#one house was generated with blocks directly on top of path blocks
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what the
#WHY ARE THEY#FLOATING#how does a minecraft village manage to generate houses without a foundation? it it because it’s a snowy plains village?????#another note#one house was generated with blocks directly on top of path blocks#so that there was like a sliver of space between wood and path block
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Photos of Hugh Hayden's Exhibition Home Work, as seen at the Rose Art Museum (Brandeis University), 2024. Throughout this post, text present in the gallery (written by museum curators, not me) is intended in block quotes.
Through his prodigious studio practice, Hugh Hayden (b. 1983, Dallas, TX) has become one of the leading artists of his generation. His meticulously crafted sculptures, hybrid forms, and poignant installations evoke profound reflections on the human condition within a complex, volatile, and often threatening world. hayden combines a probing analysis of serious and often painful topics with humor, visual puns, and wordplay, provoking a unique blend of visceral and critical responses.
I was captivated by Hayden's work from the moment I stepped into the gallery. Really stunning stuff. Names of all pieces in this post (left to right, top to bottom), as well as excerpts from gallery text, can be found below the Read More. I highly encourage you to check it out in more detail!
American Gothic (2024)
Hayden merges two skeletal figures with agricultural and domestic tools, examining aspects pertaining to labor and the dignity of work. The artist deliberately positions himself as part of a genealogy of American artists, referencing Grant Wood's 1930 painting American Gothic and Gordon Parks's 1942 photograph, American Gothic.
Eden (2022)
Eden presents two ribcages locked together in an intimate embrace. Hanging on a clothes rack, the ribcages are meticulously crafted from cedar wood, a material often used where clothes are stored to repel moths. The fact that the skeletal lovers are closeted suggests that this embrace needs to be kept a secret. The title references the bliss associated with the biblical Garden of Eden.
Hangers (2018)
High Cotton (2015-2020)
High Cotton, emulating and arcade claw machine, is clad in lustrous, Chippendale-inspired Honduran mahogany, carved to the recall the eighteenth- and nineteenth-century furnishings of high society. Sharp-edged cotton balls (replacing the game's expected toys) force a player to "pick cotton," a task directly associated with slavery. The work highlights the raw material used to produce the fine cotton clothing found around the world--and once neatly folded inside the mahogany armoires of slave owners.
Fairy Tale (2023)
Fairy Tale features a pair of interlocking Tiffany rings, with HIV-prevention medication replacing the expected diamonds or gems. The title suggests a "happily-ever-after" gay love story for those who once lived in the shadow of AIDS. The word "fairy" in the title, sometimes used as a slur, is here reclaimed with pride.
The Kiss (2020)
In The Kiss, two football helmets are caught together like stags whose horns are locked in battle. Their interlocking forms and the title of the piece suggest a range of relationships, from homosocial camaraderie to same-sex intimacy. Many of Hayden's sports-related sculptures expose the fact that the very devices supposed to protect may also wound. The Kiss recalls the high number of brain injuries suffered by football players.
Positives (2019-2024)
Hedges (2019)
This installation features a model of an archetypal suburban home. Rather than associating the domestic with security, Hayden transforms the familiar abode into an unsettling place where menacing branches sprout from and overpower the structure's walls, window, and roof. Hedges is experienced within a mirrored chamber that situates the viewer amid an endless row of uncanny houses. Hayden often notes that home ownership is considered one of the key goals of achieving the American dream. Yet this path is hardly assured for many people, given the inequities in society and the financial precarity that so many endure. As shown here and throughout the exhibition, Hayden's visceral sculptures reveal the disquieting contradictions of the American dream.
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Big question. I need your opinion on something. If Mipha was never saved, and Vah Ruta was never calmed, what effect would it have on Hyrule. We know that it will flood, however I doubt the Shiekah would have the ability to create water from nothing (like to gods) so I just assume they are teleporting so the ocean won't rise. With this in mind, none of the major settlements would really be affected. Gerudo Town is far enough out of the path that the river would take through lake Hylia, Riti Village is also out of the way, and not only does it have a natural moat (if you could call it that) but also a canyon in the way. Korok Forest has magic and a moat and is also out of the way, Goron City is also to high up and out of the way, Tarrey Town is really highup and out of tge way, Zoras domain has pretty good drainage and it will probably go through the several other exits to not cause that muc damage, Kakariko Village is safe in the mountains, Hateno Town is safe and out of the way, and Lurelin Village is also out of the way and won't be damaged unless the ocean floods.
WOO LET’S FLOOD A CIVILIZATION AND SEE WHAT HAPPENS!
**Zelda meter is the meter system of objmap.zeldamods.org, but in accordance with previous posts I'm gonna convert it later to "actual" meters that I think is more realistic. You’ll see why later.
ALRIGHTY, SO LET’S START WITH MEASURING TIME!
So, East Reservoir Lake is 545 zelda meters long (light blue) and 340 zelda meters wide (blue)
Or if we want to see it as more of a circle, it has a radius of 239 zelda meters
Rutala Dam itself is 30 zelda meters wide and 140 zelda meters across. (see purple)
Taking a picture and using an online ruler, I found that the damn is roughly 123 zelda meters tall. (1 cm equal to 17.5 zelda meters by using the 140zm measurement)
Technically speaking, the dam's depth is infinite in the game, so we'll just use this damn's height as the depth.
And before you tell me that I should count the height of the rocks that the damn sits on top of as part of the depth, I'm gonna say not because dams typically block preexisting waterfalls, and given the rounded erosion of the rocks here, I would say that is also the case. Therefore, this was a waterfall that fed into the Rutala River and is not counted for the reservoir's depth.
So, in summary:
Reservoir Length: 545zm
Reservoir Width: 340zm
LW Reservoir Surface Area: 185,300zm (That is only 0.1 zelda kilometer. For comparison, the 45th largest reservoir in the world, Capivera Dam [last place on Wikipedia list] is still 515 square kilometers. The largest ones being in the 60k areas. I’ll come back to this point later.)
Reservoir Radius: 239zm
(pi)r^2 Reservoir Surface Area: 179,451zm2 (179zkm2) [Just got these numbers of surface areas to demonstrate they're practically the same whether you see it as circular or rectangular. I think the circle will be more accurate so going forward I will be using it as my basis for calculations]
Dam Length: 140zm
Dam Height: 123zm
Dam Width: 30zm
The Total Water Rutala Dam Holds Back: 22,072,473zm3 [Instead of just using the sphere volume formula or the LWH formula, I used my more accurate surface area made with the the radius and multiplied by the dam height(is that the,,,cylinder formula? I think so)]
Rutala Dam is supposed to be the largest reservoir in Hyrule, shown very prominently on the map. The largest reservoir(by surface area) in our world is Lake Winnipeg, with a surface area of 24,514 km2, (but only has a depth of 12 meters.)
But here it is on a map of Canada:
To reiterate, Lake Winnipeg has an area of 24,514km, and with zelda meters, East Reservoir Lake has an area of 179.
“BUT KIP! MAYBE EAST RESEVOIR LAKE IS JUST REALLY REALLY SMALL, HYRULE IS PRETTY SMALL ISN’T IT?”
Ok, so comparing the reservoir to one of the the largest, if not THE largest, settlements in the game, Zora’s Domain, we can see that the reservoir is several times it’s size.
But you’ll also note that Zora’s Domain has a diameter of 234zm. That, the entire city, the entire DOMAIN of Zora. 234 zelda meters. Manhattan is 21,100 meters long. Manhattan, by the way, is a fifth fraction of the New York County, which is the smallest county in the United States of America.
234 zelda meters, that’s an area of 43,005zm2. Do you know what else is aobut 40k meters squared in real life? Your nearest Walmart. Just a bit bigger than your local Tesco. Supposedly the entire Zora population, that has been untouched by the 100 year apocalypse and arguably had room to GROW over this time, is living in a Trader Joes.
So I hope this illustrates why I’m converting the zelda meters used on the website to something that I think would be more realistic in the realm of Hyrule. You can find my very loud and kinda embarrassing but factual! and old post about the conversion here, same link as at the top, but essentially just trust me on the conversation that 1zm is equal to 30 real-life meters.
New Realistic Measurements:
Reservoir Length: 16,350m or 16.35km
Reservoir Width: 10,200m or 10.2km
LW Reservoir Surface Area: 166,770km2
Reservoir Radius: 7170m or 7.17km
(pi)r^2 Reservoir Surface Area: 5,383,530m2 or 5382.53km2
Dam Length: 4200m
Dam Height: 3690m
Dam Width: 900m
The Total Water Rutala Dam Holds Back: 19,865,225,700m3 or 19.8 million cubic kilometers of water AKA 19.8 billion kiloliters AKA 5.2 trillion gallons o’ agua
Now THAT sounds more like the biggest dam in all of Hyrule. In fact, it adds up with the stats of the largest dam in our world(by gallons held), that is, the Three Gorges Dam.
The Three Gorges Dam, located in China, ALSO holds back 5 trillion gallons of water/19 billion cubic meters. Although it is a lot shorter than Rutala’s measurements--I think the amount of water that it holds back will be a perfect guide to see the devastation that Rutala’s potential breakage could cause on Hyrule.
There actually is a simulation online about what would happen if the Three Gorges Dam collapsed but I’m not gonna link it cause it might be a bit too distressing, but just know that I based this on that simulation.
Firstly, the biggest sigh of relief comes from the Samasa Plain.
The plain is very very low and slopes down into the Lanayru Bay, so a lot of the water would empty into there. However, the plain would then be totally submerged, so RIP to the shrines and ruins around there. Areas in red as submerged and areas in green would become islands or marshes.
And with that, the water level of Lanayru Bay would rise drastically. Blue is the new water level, dark green are islands, and light green are potential wetlandish areas that would form as time passed.
But basically, Rutala river would have a new branch that spills directly into the Lanayru Bay.
So now you may be thinking,
“HEY KIP THAT’S NOT SO BAD! MOST OF IT SPILLS OUT INTO THE BAY SO IT’S NOT A LOT OS DESTRUCTION! YAY!”
And you’d be half right.
Yes, a lot of the water is going to spill out over Samasa Plain and yes, Lanayru Bay will house a lot of it. But here’s the kicker.
It’s a bay.
Not an ocean.
It would take 1.25zkm or 30km for the water to make it’s way to the ocean, and the water will be traveling SUPER fast--about 100 kilometers per hour.
And that water wants to move, it wants to flow, and Lanayru Bay cannot help all that water flower because: It’s shallow as fuck.
This chest shows the deepest point in all of Lanayru Bay.
I dropped a windcleaver down in the water: and using a generous GENEROUS estimate of 2 feet per second given the conditions of the still water in the bay--It took 5 seconds for it to float to the bottom. 10 feet. 3 meters. That’s just barely deeper than the deep end of a backyard swimming pool.
But even being extra EXTRA generous and using a real world estimate: Bays would be around 14 feet deep, roughly 4 meter. And we can be even more generous and say the sounding mountains can accommodate 30 feet of height. 9 meters. 9 + 4 = 14 meter height times 30km by 10km(width) = That’s 4.2 cubic kilometers, or 4.2 billion kiloliters of the 19.8 billion kiloliters in total.
uh oh. wheres the other 15.6 billion kiloliters of water gonna go?
It’s like taking a firehose, and filling up a bathtub. Yeah, the tub’s gonna catch a lot of that water, but that firehose has way, way, way, more water than that tub can hold, and when the tub can have a leak or hole on it, but the rate that that hose is going is astronomically faster than the rate the tub can expel water, so it’s just gonna overflow and water will still spill everywhere
[And this isn’t even taking into the account that Rutala Dam is SIGNIFICANTLY higher that it’s surrounding landscape, and would pour into the river with such a force that it could cause a giant tidal wave and break through the rocky boundaries of the pre-existing Rutala River causing even more water to flow into the bay]
Lanayru Bay would be occupied with a lot of water, and since the other 15.6 billion kiloliters of water can’t immediately flow into it, it’s gonna take the scenic route through Rutala River. It’s high mountains on either side basically just make it a death funnel.
Here’s how that would look:
This is the new water level for the Lanayru Wetlands. MAn they weren’t lying, those lands do be wet.
so yeah everything is submerged in between 10 to 20 meters of water and you might be thinking
“WELL KIP, I THINK THAT’S NOT SO BAD AFTER ALL! AT LEAST NO MAJOR LANDMARKS WERE DESTROYED AND NO ONE WAS HURT!”
Well, bestie, here’s the thing. This length of land is 3 zelda kilometers long. AKA 90 kilometers long. And you might recall, I said, that this, 3000 meter tall wall of water was traveler at 100km per hour. Well the good news is, my calculations are a lot easier for this as this large stretch of flat Lanayru Wetlands land lines up perfectly with the flat areas of Yichange, (which was actually traveling at twice the speed compared to Rutala because it didn’t have Lanayru Bay to open up into)
But the bad news is, the video is five minutes long, and this is just the first 50 seconds. This water is destined to travel 400 kilometers. That’s about half of the country of Wales, by the way. The entire length of the state of Virginia.
Here’s the rough path of the total flooding that other 16 billion kiloliters from Rutala Dam
Oh, and what’s worse is that the rivers in central Hyrule? Yeah they’re like HALF the depth of Lanayru Bay so the flooding will be even WORSE :D
So here’s the new waterlevel map!
Overtime, a lot of the water is gonna spill onto the paths through Central Hyrule, new swamplands, creeks, etc. etc. The path to the Gerudo Desert will be fin initially, as the water as slowed to the point where it won’t put immediate damage since the bridge is so high. But that new water level plus the influx of water from the River of the Dead is definetly gonna erode that over time and maybe possibly will just collapse and prevent anyone from leaving or entering the desert.
Hyrule Castle will be even more of an island, as the two islands to the left and right of it will be moslty submerged. Also the entire path through Eldin is just fucking done. Everyone in Akkala and Eldin? You’re trapped there. It’s basically a new Lake Hylia but no bridge. Sorry Robbie.
Oh, and also these rapid waters are carrying the debris of it’s destruction, whether the corpses of travelers or giant rocks that it broke off from the side of mountains. So everything is a mess, and depending on the amount of debris, it could completly alter water paths to go even more in land. The rivers are shallow enough, so just pilling in more rocks and dam metal and dirt just makes things shallower
Lake Hylia will be fine, the mini islands are gone, but as a whole, the bridge and the height of the surrounding ridges will keep the water in there. Although a lot of Necluda is basically a goner, and the bridge on either end of Dueling Peaks is totally decimated.
So what did we learn?
All of Hyrule’s economy is fucked. Every major trading path--gone. It’s basically gonna breed even more ethnocentricism, and a bunch of wildlife and sources for food are gone. And not to mention the climate, that’s gonna be fucked too as years pass. Rito and Zora will probably be the most fine? Hylians are fucked though, we destroyed like five stables and basically every river setllement there is. Oh and that influx of water is gonna fuck with the fishes so Hateno and Lurelin aren’t totally out of it either!
Gerudo? Well good thing they’re all lesbians because they sure aren’t going out to woe anybody once those stone pillars holding the bridge give way to the new water levels. Gorons will actually not even know anything’s wrong if I’m being honest. Sheikah? Well that point by Eagus Bridge and Sarhasra slope is gonna connect into a river at some point so I guess they can be a fishing village now.
Oh an RAIN I didn’t even think about that, yeah people are totally gonna die. And if Ruta CONTINUES to pump water into Hyrule (because again, this is only from an INITIAL burst of the damn. Well...
Zora’s Domain will be gone within the year. Water levels will just continue to rise, probably take on Central Hyrule first, but then after that the Gerudo Canyon. Also if flooding in Zora’s Domain REALLY continue it would probably spill over and destroy Tarrey Town. So not good all around!
But I think the main takeaway that we can all settle with is that the Flower Lady and her garden are absolutely, positively, dead.
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The Planets, Elevated
Sun
As the Most Elevated indicates a drive to express one’s creative essence and core ego values before the world. This individual will shine amongst their circle of peers. This person’s 15 minutes of fame can extend to a lifetime of fame in one area of life or another. The world is a stage they play on. They were put here on earth to display their creative gifts and talents. They tend to be leaders. Tend to be worshipped. Popular. If the elevated planet is conjunct the Midheaven, this is a strong indicator of celebrity. Martin Luther King had his Sun in Capricorn as the Zenith of his chart. Albert Einstein’s Sun was his most elevated as well.
Moon
As the Most Elevated is more inverted than the Sun. Whereas those born with the Sun highest in the chart can feel an urge toward leadership or expressing their egoic and creative impulses in a public way, those with the Moon highest are more often drawn to project their personality or their emotions into the spotlight. Many actors and musicians have this placement. Individuals with the Moon at the Zenith of their chart can become well-known for their nurturing talents. Their emotions. Their moods and the creativity surrounding them. Their temperament and what they create with them/ expressing their emotions to the public can gain them notoriety. The late John Lennon of Beatles fame had his Moon as his most elevated. Academy Award winner, Meryl Streep’s most elevated planet is the moon as well.
Mercury
As the Most Elevated indicates a native with an urge to project one’s ideas or verbal skills before the world. They will find many ways to get their voices out there or “broadcasted to the public”. The sign the Planet is in indicates how this will be done. This individual will be renowned for their linguistic, mental, and/or intellectual talents. Could become well known for their teaching abilities, writing abilities, communications abilities, or public relation abilities. Writer Sylvia Plath had Mercury in intense Scorpio as the highest planet in her chart.
Venus
As the most elevated indicates a desire to project beauty and/or harmony in some way before the public. Widely desired/admired. Marilyn Monroe was born with Venus as her highest planet, and she became virtually synonymous with mainstream ideals of beauty. They will be the Models, the creatives, The fashionistas, the person with a “nice girl or nice guy” persona. This placement often leads to occupations directly or indirectly involved with aesthetics and design. Tom Hanks, widely considered as Hollywood’s nicest leading man [A Beautiful Day in the Neighborhood, anyone?] has Venus as his most elevated. Marilyn Monroe and David Bowie both did as well.
Mars
As the most elevated Indicates a drive to project energy and strength before the world. Muhammed Ali had Mars as his most elevated planet. Ruthless ambition. Renowned undefeated heavyweight champion in boxing. Martial arts ruled his life and where he received the most notoriety. Definitely a feisty placement as well as one that will make the native hard to ignore. This placement indicates a leader. The types to set shit off. The type to be the “boss” in whatever field of work they choose. Spearhead some sort of militant movement. The ‘Gangster” placement. Very often seen in the charts of those who take part in sports. Franklin D. Roosevelt had Mars as his most elevated planet and he was the driving for behind America’s decision to partake in WWII. Founding father of the Mafia Lucky Luciano also had Mars at the zenith of his chart.
Jupiter
As the most elevated Indicates there is confidence about matters of career or dealings with the public. As a result, this is one of the leading chart indicators of popularity and success, as well as general “good luck,”. Global awareness, travel, teaching, and philosophical/spiritual matters will be their forte. The “prophet” or “guru” aspect. Someone who’s calling in life may involve lots of travel or they can be a “citizen of the world”. Angelina Jolie has Jupiter at the highest point in her chart and not only was her film career a huge success, but she also became a bit of a 2nd Mother Teresa, traveling internationally to adopt children, and doing humanitarian work worldwide. There is also an interest in different spiritual teachings [i.e the Cambodian prayer tattoo on her left shoulder blade.] This is one of the hardest-hitting horoscopic indicators of popularity and success, as well as general “fortune/luck” in life. Basketball heavyweight Michael Jordan has Jupiter at the Zenith of his chart as does Kim Kardashian. This is also an indicator of one who can become famous or well known for their ideas/thoughts on spirituality. If Jupiter is in Virgo, the native can become renowned for their writings on esoteric or spiritual matters.
Saturn
As the most elevated Like Jupiter, Saturn near the top of one’s chart can show considerable success and prominence in one’s life. But unlike Jupiter, this usually involves far more work and a few tough building blocks along the way. There’s a “late bloomer” quality to the lives of these natives. Many instances, they can experience great struggle in building their career and reputation — that constant ‘between a rock and a hard place”. Yet these people often live to see great rewards and prestige as a result of said hard work. The types to be in inevitable positions of authority in whatever they do but also the types to hold themselves to impossible standards. They must be the best. They will often become well known/ be in positions that involve structure. For example, Queen Elizabeth has this placement, I don’t know a life more structured than the life of a monarch. Spanish artist Picasso was born with Saturn in Taurus as his highest planet; he was subject to enormous criticism regarding his art early on, but eventually found prosperity and fame as a result of his discipline and productivity. Bill Clinton has Saturn at his Zenith and became the leader of the free world. Jazz musician Louis Armstrong rose from an intensely difficult childhood in Louisiana to become a pioneering artist admired by audiences all over the world.
Uranus
As the most elevated indicates a native who possesses a fiercely independent streak and a desire to pursue uniquely personal or unconventional life paths. The weirdo who becomes famous for being.. well, a weirdo. Needless to say, this generally makes it difficult for these people to adapt to rigid routines and structured environments, and in terms of career, they like to have/need as long a leash as possible. They think outside the box and as a result, can gain prestige for doing just that. The “fuck it I do what I want” aspect. This attitude may make them famous and even admired. Geniuses. Actor Steve McQueen had Uranus in Aries as his highest planet, and virtually became Hollywood’s poster boy for the ‘Rebel’ archetype. He also spent time in reform school as an adolescent. The late great Nipsey Hussle had Uranus at the Zenith of his chart and he lived his life in unapologetic opposition to the law being part of the Rolling 60′s Crip gang. You can see this rebel spirit in many of his songs that went platinum. Many Astronauts including Edgar Mitchell have this placement. Those with Uranus as their most elevated see “beyond”. This also indicates the maverick spirit of innovation. This placement is often connected to technology or the media [remember, Uranus has an ‘electric’ energy to it]. A prime example is Apple computer founder Steve Jobs who had Jupiter and Uranus in conjunction as his highest point.
Neptune
As the most elevated indicates a spirit of “reaching for the stars”. I see this planet most elevated in the charts of those renowned for their artistic talents. ESPECIALLY in music and the arts. Many actors have this placement, which is fitting considering Neptune is the planet of dreams/fantasy, and actors are paid to pretend to be someone else. Famous for the mask they wear. Powerful spiritual impulses. An inspiring individual. Can become famous/well known for their idealism or the spiritual messages they send out to the world. When well aspected or unafflicted it can indicate an individual who can become revered for their fantastical ideas. Walt Disney’s most elevated planet was Neptune and I feel many of us can agree that his classic works of fantasy shaped our childhoods. His billion-dollar empire still stands today decades after his death. Elevated Neptunian Bruce Lee not only brought martial arts to the attention of thousands but also expounded on its spiritual philosophy in writings and interviews. He even created Jeet Kune Do, a martial art deeply rooted in spirituality, wrote a book about it, too. 44th President Barack Obama has Neptune as his most elevated planet and his campaign slogan “hope” gave many just that during the 2008 election. An affliction to this most elevated planet can still make one very well known but not necessarily for the best reasons. When afflicted it can be a dangerous placement and one can suffer or make others suffer from fanatical or delusional teachings. Cult leader Jim Jones had Neptune has his most elevated and his spiritual teachings resulted in the death of hundreds of naive and innocent people due to drugged [Neptune] kool-aid.
Pluto
As the most elevated indicates that an individual’s career or sense of “calling” will be involved with any or all 8th house dealings. Sexuality, death, transformation, secrets, the occult. Megan Fox has Pluto at the highest degree in her chart, though she is a Taurus, her MC is in Scorpio and conjunct her Pluto which is the most elevated. She comes off an undeniable Sex [Plutonic/8th house] symbol. Same for the late great musician Prince, who was very public about sexuality. Vladimir Putin, President of Russia has his Pluto closest to his MC and he was a KGB spy. This is definitely a placement of someone with considerable power. Not one to be underestimated. Capable of covert manipulation and may/can become famous for it. They may also become well known for dealing with dark matters. Jack Kerouac, who celebrated the bohemian “underworld” had his Pluto elevated. Mary Shelly, author of Frankenstein became renowned for a book that had to do with a monster made of dead bodies transformed through supernatural means. It is now one of the first books parents will read to their children on Halloween.
Honorable Mentions
There’s been an ongoing discourse about Asteroids/Hypothetical Points being considered “elevated.” It’s a topic of debate within the astrological community. However, if we are to entertain them, this is what they can mean:
Chiron
As the most elevated indicates a calling in life dealing with healing. Dealing with the pain of others and making things better for them. A teacher that is known for helping others find their way.
Lilith
As the most elevated indicates an individual feared and admired for their rebellious sexual spirit. The seductress/seducer. The individual can become loved or hated for their ability to put their wily charms on both men and women. Audrey Hepburn had Lilith at the zenith of her chart, quite close to Saturn near the MC.
Juno
As the most elevated planet may become famous for their marriages or whom they are married to.
Vesta
Famous for their devotion or well known for becoming homemakers.
Pallas
As the most elevated can indicate someone known for their wisdom. How they temper their instincts with discretion.
#For the multitude in my inbox inquiring#Hope this helps ❤#Elevated planet#astrology tips#astrology#bruja tips#sun elevated planet#Moon elevated planet#mercury elevated planet#venus elevated planet#mars elevated planet#jupiter elevated planet#saturn elevated planet#uranus elevated planet#Neptune elevated planet#pluto elevated planet#Chiron#lilith#juno#vesta#pallas#my writing#witchblr
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Subtitles: Episode 3, Now in Color
Subtitles Masterlist
Summary: Things are going well between [Y/N] and their new partners but what shenanigans will ensue as the Maximoff baby’s arrival quickly approaches and they’re pulled into the throughs of building a nursery and… child delivery?
Word count: 10,640
Warnings: Cotton candy fluff, chaos, baby. So the usual, plus babies.
Tag list: @madamevirgo @ravennight41 @multifandomgirl16 (It won’t tage you for some reason, I’m sorry ;-; ) @cyanide-mustard @badasspolygenderfriend
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You huffed and sat back on your heels, slipping a sore finger into your mouth. “Stupid bird.”
The bird in question, a pink flamingo made of plastic and wire, seemed to sneer at you from its position sticking a few inches farther out of the grass than it should be. Because of this, you could still see the main stake sticking out of the bottom of the bird’s standing foot, which, much to your distaste, made the pink plastic-feathered creature look like it was trapped on a piece of wood impaled in its foot rather than lounging on one foot in the lush green grass of your yard.
You had spent a good portion of today working on your yard and garden and waiting for a member of the household across the street to step outside and beckon you over. Dressed in overalls stained by grass and dirt, a brightly colored T-shirt, a sun hat, and working shoes, you forced yourself to keep busy by planting new flora and putting down new garden fences and decor while Vision and Wanda were tucked away indoors, preparing for a baby. You were the only one so far to know about the Maximoff bun in the oven outside of the parents and although it seemed like just last week that Wanda had gotten pregnant, the baby had finally big enough that the couple had to involve a doctor to make sure all was going well.
It also felt like not long ago that the couple had asked you out for the first time. Both of them. At the same time. It was news to you that they had felt even remotely felt the same way about you as you had about them but the rest of that conversation had gone swimmingly with you being too nervous and dumbstruck to do much more than blubber questions. The first date and then the second went a similar way, with you not being completely sure that you were on a three-person date or even awake. Luckily, your new partners were just as unnerved as you were and the three of you agreed to simply play it by ear and communicate a lot.
Some time and a few sporadic dates later and things were going smoothly. Almost every bit of free time was spent at either their place or yours; if it wasn’t free time, you were giving Vision rides to work and leaving cute messages in the files you left at his desk—you always hoped they were cute, anyway, and not annoying, only to be reassured when you got a smiley back or your favorite treat from the breakroom left with the file when it was returned—or trying to help Wanda clean or cook or take a break despite her stubborn fussing against it. Vision was the first to give you a pet name, Wanda was the first to hold you in place when you attempted to pull away from a normally quick handhold or hug, and you were the first to press kisses to both their cheeks after walking them home from dinner. Wanda fell asleep on your couch first, you on theirs second, and Vision went ahead and turned cheek pecks into lip kisses. You weren’t quite ready to initiate them yourself yet but you hadn’t been complaining when Vision caught you on your porch steps and kissed you on the mouth; the rain that had just started had either been just a bonus or his initial inspiration.
As nice as everything has been, though, you were still worried about overstepping boundaries with the married couple so when Vision invited you over to be a part of the doctor visit, you politely declined. Instead, after the doctor left, you were to head over and bring your tools to help set up the nursery; it was also your joint job with Vision, who was now a baby book reading master but also increasingly bugged out about Wanda and the baby’s health, to try and convince said woman to relax for once in her life—a task difficult enough to be on the list of Hercules’ Twelve Labors, you were convinced at this point.
For now, though, you were sitting with your feet beginning to cramp and your knees getting damp and most likely more grass-stained, glaring at the devil in pink whose foot-stake had left your finger with a prick from a splinter and whose one visible dark eye stared at you with sadistic mirth.
“Oh, you wanna go, Bernard?” you scoffed at the bird-shaped plastic, dropping your hand from your mouth and pushing yourself up into a squat. “I’ll call you out. Let’s go!” You raised your hands in a fighting stance and bounced on the balls of your feet as you prepared to strike.
The sound of a chainsaw starting up caught you off guard mid-bounce and you lost your balance but what caught your eye when you twisted around while rubbing your now-bruised tailbone was Vision walking outside his front door with an older gentleman, presumably the doctor. However, you paid very little attention to said other man as you laid in the middle of your yard, twisted into what was probably a partial yoga pose, resting your chin on your arm and making lovey-dovey eyes at the former.
Not that it was surprising at all, Vision looked very nice today. He was wearing dark blue pants and a similarly colored sweater over a collared shirt and tie, with a honey-brown jacket topping everything off; you couldn’t imagine wearing a shirt plus two outerwear items in the heat of the day but you certainly didn’t mind seeing him all dressed up. His hair was somewhere between jaw and shoulder length and wavy as ever and while you weren’t a fan of the popular 70s cut, he not only pulled it off but made it look incredibly attractive. He greeted his next-door neighbor Herb, who started up the chainsaw, then spoke animatedly, as he always did, to the doctor. Talking about keeping the baby news to themselves, no doubt.
Vision watched as the doctor walked off down the sidewalk and as he happened to pass in your direction, Vision’s gaze refocused to settle on you instead. The expression on his face changed from purely friendly to something deeper and you felt the familiar flutter of butterflies in your stomach as he waved over to you.
“Hello, perfectly platonic neighbor!” he hollered, to which you responded in kind after snorting and then disentangling yourself from your strange position.
No response from Herb about the odd greeting. The cul-de-sac, and in Westview in general, people didn’t seem concerned with your trio’s out-of-place shenanigans as long as it didn’t directly affect them, you had noticed over time. You could have probably walked over and planted a brazen smooch on Vision’s perfect mouth while out in the open, with other neighbors milling about, and no one would bat an eye.
But that’s exactly what we’re not going to do, you thought stubbornly as you stood and brushed yourself off. Not yet, anyway. I want to make sure they’re both comfortable with it first.
Vision seemed to grasp what your plan was because he waited for you as you gave Bernard the flamingo a fight postpone notice and then a light kick before walking across your yard and heading across the street. If you had been more rational, you would have grabbed your tools so you could have just come inside when you reached the Maximoff house but your brain, muddled with the pink mist of freshly requited affections, could only think of getting closer to the man, maybe even holding hands or nuzzling noses.
A sound that was equal parts loud and awful caught both your and Vision’s attention as you reached the sidewalk on the other side of the street. Looking over, you both saw Herb cutting away with his chainsaw, only now he wasn’t cutting through bushes but the stone wall separating his and Wanda and Vision’s homes. The stone blocks of the wall weren’t super heavy-duty, you supposed, but the sound made you cringe, and the sight was a little jarring. Herb didn’t seem to realize was he was doing despite the lack of hedges in his path.
“Hey Herb,” Vision yelled over the noise, “think you might’ve taken the hedge trimming a little too far there, old chum!” As he spoke, he glanced over at you and, seeing you nearby, instinctively shifted in your direction; you moved to meet him halfway and you each gave the other’s hand a quick affectionate squeeze, though both pairs of eyes were trained on Herb.
Herb, who looked up, smiled, and responded, “So I have! Thanks, buddy.” Despite saying this, he continued to cut through the bordering wall and stare glassily ahead as if none the wiser.
The expression gave you an unnerving sense of familiarity but you couldn’t quite put a name to the vague memory of a person you’d seen wearing it. Acquiring a migraine medication and forcing yourself to not look too hard into every strange thing that happened in this town helped but your headaches appeared to never quite go away. This was proven by the muted throb across one side of your head that came with looking at the bizarre scene.
“Yeah,” Vision said a little quieter, “don’t mention it.”
The action only happened briefly but when you caught him chewing his lower lip, you felt your innards tie themselves in knots and had a particularly hard time tearing your gaze away. Now that you were closer, you also noticed that the blue and brown ensemble he wore perfectly matched his hair and eyes. That hair that you always desperately wanted to brush your fingers through.
Fingers carefully slipping around your hand, like if they held you any tighter your own would break, managed to catch your attention as Vision turned to lead you inside.
“Oh,” you chirped, tugging your hand back to point a thumb over your shoulder, “I forgot my tools. Meet you in a minute?”
Vision seemed persistent to bring you inside, even going so far as to catch both your arms and doing a playful series of shimmies and sways to dance the two of you closer to the front door. Now that you were out of Herb’s frozen line of sight, the two of your found yourselves standing so close together that there wasn’t a single pocket of space between your bodies. When you inhaled, you smell cologne that wasn’t too light or too heavy and a scent that you could only describe as the heat of a warm, sunny day. Thinking as he would only smell sweat and dirt and grass if he did the same, you blushed and made a note to change before you came back over.
Whatever Vision thought about how you smelled or the clothes you wore, he didn’t seem to care enough, if at all. He took advantage of being out of sight to move his hands from your hours to your waist—a much more convincing position indeed—and nuzzled his nose to your hairline, now exposed as your hat rested farther back on your head.
“You know very well that you can use ours,” he said.
You felt his warm breath on your forehead. If you weren’t standing up and didn’t have the nagging feeling that you were getting dirt on his nice sweater, you would have been perfectly comfortable simply hugging him and dozing off in the cozy embrace right there.
Vision continued in a lilting voice and with an added shimmy that brought the two of you directly to the front door. “They’d love to see you, you know.”
They? Your brows furrowed a bit, then rolled your eyes. Oh, Wanda plus baby.
Still, you steeled your resolve and leaned away from him. He looked at you like he was a puppy that had been kicked, to which you responded with a faux scowl. “Mr. Vision Maximoff, I said I was going bring my tools, and [Y/N] is no flake. Besides,” you paused as your scowl melted into a smile, “I don’t want to get dirt and grime all over the new room. It’ll only take a minute; you act like we can’t see each other through our living room windows if we wanted to.”
Making his last attempt, Vision leaned into your arms, which were now around his own, and pressed his cheek against your temple. Still pouting, he muttered, “It only took Wanda and I going around a few times before we moved in together.”
The idea of you living under the same roof as your couple and their new baby made you giddy as much as it made you feel like you wanted to throw yourself into a lit fire pit to save yourself from embarrassment.
“Ah, yes, a spectacle to behold,” you said as you leaned away again, “A new baby and a new roommate!” You saw Vision open his mouth to speak, no doubt to respond with a quip, and quickly continued, disentangling yourself from him as you did, “Gotta skitty, I’ll be back momentarily!”
“Well,” Vision replied, dragging out the last consonant as if you were going to change your mind if he did so long enough; when you didn’t, he huffed a bit. “Alright then. Hurry back!”
You gave him a smile and two-fingered salute then bounded down the steps and back across the street. You only stopped once on the quick trip back home and that was to give Bernard another swift kick, which somehow lodged the bird the rest of the way into the ground, and a “Fuck you, Bernard!” You heard sputtering laughter from across the street that made you grin as you marched inside to change and grab your toolkit.
The tools were the easy part; they had been sitting out on the table in your dining area since last night when you’d originally suggested the idea so you were sure to not forget them. It took a bit longer to struggle your way out of your clothes, especially while simultaneously trotting to the bathroom to wash your hands and splash water on your face. It took longer still to jog back to your bedroom without slamming yourself into an end table or plant along the way and then also go through every piece of clothes you owned; when bright colors and eccentric outfits came into style, you were, for once, ahead of the fashion game with your regular closet, and your wardrobe only continued to grow as the rest of the country’s interest in the style did. You were particularly interested in peacock fashion and it showed in your array of ruffled, brightly colored, and loudly patterned shirts and blouses.
Of these blouses, you threw on one in a burnt orange and yellow paisley pattern, choosing one without ruffles in fear of ripping them while working. You paired the shirt with matching yellow walk-shorts that ended just above your knees and a pair of honey-brown clog sandals whose color made you think of Vision’s outfit. Thinking about this further, you decided to accent your ensemble with a touch of blue, wrapping your hair that was still damp with sweat back with a satin scarf that was a vibrant blue and some handmade jewelry pieces in the same color to match. Finally, you added a woven belt and, after looking in the mirror for a moment, decided to tie your blouse off an inch above the waist of your shorts instead of tucking it in before booking it back across the street.
Standing at the door of your couple’s house, you took a final glance at yourself in the reflection of one of their windows before knocking. You let yourself in after Wanda invited you with a holler through the door and you were greeted with the interesting sight of Wanda, in all her stunning, colorful, mother-to-be glory standing by the long dark-wood dining table; Vision, half-hidden behind her belly that seemed significantly larger than the last time you saw her, was taking an awkward knee while holding up a variety of fruits.
“I’m never not uniquely surprised when I walk into this house,” you said mostly to yourself and you made your way over. Reaching Wanda, you sat your bag of tools on the floor by her feet and gave her a gentle hug. “Hey, sunshine, you’re looking foxy.”
You certainly had gotten a lot more comfortable with them recently.
Wanda visibly blushed, giving you one of her signature fake irritated looks—a tilted head with tight-knit brows and tight lips that broke into a smile less than a second later—and lightly swatted your arm before carefully returning the hug. “Hey sunshine yourself. Look at you, you’re glowing! And those threads, you’re a regular Casanova.”
She made a point of eyeing your partially exposed midriff and you almost blushed—but not quite.
“Glowing,” you repeated, playfully patting your face, “I’m not even the pregnant one! Thank you, though. Some of the colors were inspired.” You took your turn eyeing her, particularly the bright red of her striped dress that was a common color in her palette, then you caught Vision’s bright blue gaze as he stood and placed a couple of fruits back in their rightful place in the basket on the table. You moved to Wanda’s other side to help him. “Why the fruit?”
“Oh, well, the doctor said it helps the mothers keep track of the baby’s progress.” Vision explained. He added another fruit to the basket’s tower, although he was giving the last one in his hand an odd look.
“What he actually said was,” Wanda added, grasping your shoulder and tugging you over two put an arm around your waist and give you mildly strained look, “it helps make things ‘simple’ for us ‘little ladies.’”
You recognized the glint in her eye and nodded understandingly. “Well that’s mildly condescending, must’ve been just groovy.”
“Out of sight,” Wanda agreed in the same tone. She then looked in Vision’s direction with raised brows; you followed her gaze and saw the man toying with the large green fruit in his hand. “Hey, honey? What’cha doin’?”
Vision met both of your equally puzzled gazes with barely contained glee. Voice tight from holding back a giggle, he raised the fruit and pointed at it. “I can’t wait… to be… a proud… papa-ya.”
Wanda looked amused at the future father’s pun and Vision grinned, clearly happy with the reaction. You actually laughed before quickly throwing up a hand to cover the titter.
“Well, that just proves it,” you said after composing yourself even though your company seemed perfectly pleased with your reaction to the joke, “you’re going to be a wonderful one. Look at you, turning into a proper one already.”
Vision went from smiling to flusteredly chewing at his lip quite quickly; he would always get easily flustered but never enough to blush. Instead, he’d twist his head a certain way and rub his neck and shoulder, maybe even avoid eye contact if he was embarrassed enough. He’d always tug his bottom lip between his teeth too, something you couldn’t help finding just a touch more endearing than the other mannerisms; at least it gave you a much more rational reason to stare at his lips for longer than generally accepted.
“You really think so?” he asked.
You scoffed as you moved to pick up your tools again. “Of course, you and Wanda will make absolutely stellar parents. The two of you are more prepared now than I’ve seen some people after they’ve already had the kids. Now,” you paused as you stood up straight and looked at your couple with a cheerful smile, “shall we head to the nursery?”
You were partially convinced that you had been invited solely to help Vision wrangle his wife. You certainly hadn’t been invited to help decorate; even pregnant, Wanda made faster work of your tools than you did. You were huffing while maneuvering a rocking chair in the room and by the time you got it settled in the corner, Wanda had already pieced together the changing stand that was to sit next to it. You turned to grab a tool to open the cans of paint only to turn back around and see all of them opened and Wanda with a brush in hand, painting away. You managed to get the crib up before she could get her hands on it but when you looked around for the yellow mattress and bumper cushions, you looked up to find Wanda already putting on the finishing touches.
Now, you were kneeling on the ground by the crib and painting a delicately rendered stork while Vision was getting to his feet after reading all the reasons Wanda should be resting instead of doing what she was doing, which was pulling a mobile of colorful plastic butterflies out of a box and shifting ever so closer to a stool so she could hang it.
“Darling,” Vision tried, shifting ever so closer to her, “you should probably sit down.”
“You really should,” you offered your help, almost half-heartedly because you already knew the outcome before she said it.
“Don’t be silly,” Wanda assured him, “all I feel is excitement, happiness, and— huhnf! Oh!”
You were on your feet and spun around to give her a wide-eyed stare before her gasp even finished, but instead of pain or worry, Wanda’s face was lit up with wonder as the hand not grasping a plate fluttered around her stomach. Vision also moved quickly, to step forward and pressed his hand on her stomach.
He breathed, “Kicking already?” and they shared an excited stare.
You stared awkwardly from the side with a paintbrush in hand, feeling more out of place you’ve ever had in your life.
Until Wanda, without missing a single beat, turned her head in your direction and grinned. “[Y/N], you have to feel this!” Then she spoke to Vision, “Oh, it’s such a strange sensation, it’s kinda fluttery!”
She was breathtaking. Then her nose scrunched up and she giggled in a way that could also be described as fluttery, and you were wondering in which states polygamy was legal and where was the best jeweler to get a ring.
Still, you were trying to refrain from overstepping boundaries.
“Oh, I don’t know…” you mumbled, shifting your weight from foot to foot and glancing around the room. You noticed the mobile she had been retrieving the last time you’d looked at her was already hung up above the crib; of course, it was.
Wanda scoffed and made a gesture at Vision, then he was walking over and coaxing you to her side with an encouraging nuzzle to your temple.
“I just don’t want—” you started.
“To overstep, we know,” Wanda finished, the giddy look on her face replaced with a scowl. “Trust me, this is probably the one and only time I’ll ask for someone to feel my stomach while everyone else in the town just does it willy-nilly and besides, you are a part of— Oh!”
Her gasp and glance over your shoulder, combined with the sound of movement behind you was enough to make you turn your head, only for Vision to catch your attention in the opposite direction.
“Another kick!” he exclaimed, just a little too loud. You thought you caught his gaze flitting over in the same direction as Wanda’s but then he was grasping your wrist and placing your hand against Wanda’s stomach. At the same time, his arm that was hovering politely around your back pressed against the naked small of your back as he pulled you closer into the little triangle of space you, Wanda, and he made; the sudden heat there made your blood boil in the best way and when his hand accidentally caught on the hem of your shorts and dipped a little lower over the fabric, you choked while sucking in a breath.
Vision’s hands flew up to the sky and he scrambled away, apologizing profusely. Out of the corner of your eye, you could see his hands fluttering around, could imagine his eyes doing the same, and you were vaguely aware of Wanda moving at your other side, the fabric of her sleeve brushing against yours as she waved her arm. You also heard a sound that you chalked up to being a breeze coming from the open window and rustling the drawn curtains. You, usually the final piece of the chaotic puzzle, were instead staring down and softly gasping as the sudden tap against your palm.
“I felt it,” you whispered and the chaos that was happening around you seemed to still in the same moment as Wanda and Vision settled back around you to feel themselves. You repeated the phrase, brushing your thumb across the patch of clothed skin, and the baby responded with another kick a moment later. You couldn’t help looking up at Wanda a face frozen in almost childish wonder, and state the obvious, “You’re gonna have a baby.”
Wanda nodded at you with shining eyes and a wet smile. She wrapped her free arm around her midsection and looked back down on her belly. The expression on her face radiated an intense, loving tenderness and you felt a billion non-plastic butterflies make a comfortable home in your chest.
You followed her gaze and felt your face break into a grin so wide that your cheeks started to hurt almost immediately. Your hand, along with Wanda’s own and Vision’s, created a loose but ever so protective triangular shield over the place where you had felt your first baby kick, promising to move the universe for them should it ever be required. Despite the overlapping mess of fingers, you noticed how Vision’s hand was the perfect size to envelop your own and that even with a ring on one of them, Wanda’s fingers fit perfectly in the spaces between yours.
The nervousness and insecurities that seemed to bounce around your head whenever you observed your couple, in their perfect world with their perfect dynamics, melted away in the comfortable warmth that came from your trio’s cozy huddle. This wasn’t a story about you or them separately but the three of you together and it was a wonderful one in the making.
Then, “Oh.”
Wanda looked up at her husband and echoed, “Oh.”
You looked up second, adding your own questioning “Oh?” before your gaze settled on the butterfly lightly perched on the tip of Vision’s nose. “Oh!” Watching the monarch’s delicate wings fluttering, you were surprised he hadn’t already sneezed.
“Hello, little fella,” Vision softly said. He was the first to separate your group, stepping away and leaning down a bit for your and Wanda’s better viewing. His smile was blinding for the brief moment you caught it, before tilting your head away to snicker at the way his eyes were crossing to view his insect passenger.
Wanda gently coaxed the butterfly onto her fingertip and walked over to the window to release it. That’s when you noticed a group of the bug type coalesced around the same area; the sudden visit from Mother Nature must have been what she had seen earlier.
“Oh, my,” you said, “that’s something you don’t see every day.”
The smile on Wanda’s face tightened for just a moment as her gaze jumped around the baby room, then relaxed as she maneuvered the various colorful butterflies outside. “Bringing good vibes, hopefully. They must have been enticed by the mobile; why, they even tried to free their plastic friends!”
You looked towards the crib curiously and saw that the mobile hanging above it was only a series of transparent hanging strings. Walking over, you found the butterflies that had once been attached to it scattered around the mattress. You picked a couple of them up and carefully pinched the thin material between your fingers. “Hm, strong butterflies.”
“Clearly,” Vision agreed. He walked over to the rocking chair he had been sitting and reading baby books earlier and picked up his most recent read.
Meanwhile, you began gathering up the scattered butterflies, then climbed up the nearby stool to retrieve the rest of the mobile. “You wouldn’t happen to have a good adhesive laying around, would you? I can have this fixed up and rehung lickity-split.”
“Not laying around but I’m sure there’s one in the cabinet under the sink.” Vision seemed to find the page he was looking for. He glanced over the words, tensed up immediately after, and paced over to Wanda’s side as she shut the window. “If that was first kick, that puts you at about six months! Why I can’t keep up!”
Has it been that long already? You silently wondered as you made your way over to the exit, careful not to crush any of the delicate pieces you were holding. While Vision was thinking in terms of babies, you were surprised that you had already been dating him and his wife for almost half of a year.
In a signature dad-to-be fashion, Vision waggled his head down to give Wanda and the baby a kiss. Then he said in an equally identifiable dad’s voice, “Please don’t misinterpret. I can’t wait you meet you, little Billy!”
You leaned against the doorframe as you offered Wanda an amused look; you had been previously graced with the conversation of baby names and Billy wasn’t exactly on her roster.
“Billy?” she questioned, to which Vision gave a smile and an affirming noise. Wanda continued, “Well I was thinking Tommy. Just a nice, classic American name.”
Vision gave an exaggerated, head tilting nod that suggested a mild disagreement. Then the higher-pitched tone he took when he replied confirmed it. “Hm, Tommy! Hm, mm… then there’s Billy, isn’t there? Named after William Shakespeare, all the world’s a stage, all the men and women many players!”
Wanda went to speak but you beat her to it. “You’re sure it’s a boy, then?”
Your partner seemed mildly embarrassed as she turned her attention to you. “Strong intuition?”
You offered casually, not thinking about your lack of say in the matter, “What about Victor? Vin? Little Vinny’s certainly a cute nickname.” Almost immediately after you finished, it was your turn to be the embarrassed one. You stumbled over your words a bit as you started to apologize, only to falter when you saw both Vision and Wanda’s gleeful stares.
“Well, those are wonderful names too,” Wanda assured you, clearly pleased you had chimed in, “but I’m not hoping for quadruplets. I guess we’ll need the next best thing— A girl.”
Your shoulders relaxed from their hunched places that you hadn’t noticed they took. You chuckled and strolled out the door, throwing a couple more ideas over your shoulder, “Vivian! Virginia! Nadia!”
Vision’s voice floated after you as you walked to the kitchen. “Ooh, Vivian’s quite good…”
When you returned to the bedroom with good-as-new mobile in hand, only final touches needed to be added to the nursery, and Wanda and Vision’s excitement over the baby’s coming was suddenly amped up to eleven. The two were pacing around and frantically listing off the all things that they had left to do or buy. It was a very drastic change from the casual playfulness that you had experienced between them earlier, as the new parents were keeping themselves—and you—busy with a thousand new tasks. Eventually, Vision had a list about as long as he was tall of every bottle, diaper, blanky, binky, children’s book, and stuffed animal that they had yet to get.
Deciding you were now the more sane member of the group, you decided to take the list and go shopping for them; if you didn’t, Vision may have been swept up in the baby section of a clothing store and never return. That’s how you ended up where you were now, at the front of an ever-growing line of department store customers, waiting anxiously as the workers tried to get the lights back on and the cash register back in working order.
You rapped your fingernails on the countertop—not intentionally, just out of worry about how your parents-to-be were managing at home—and glanced from your bloated shopping cart to the cashier, who was talking quietly with a manager then back several times. You were antsy about being stuck in a store when you were much useful elsewhere and being concerned about whether you were making the cashier uncomfortable with your mannerisms, for they were probably three times as unsettled as you were, wasn’t doing anything but adding on to the stress.
Finally, the cashier turned back to you and the rest of the shoppers and announced, “Good news, everybody! The register is still down but it’s a quick switch to manual; we’ll have each and every one of you checked out and on your ways home soon!”
A cheer erupted around you but you were too frazzled to join in.
“Unfortunately,” the cashier continued as the noise died down, “we’re not the only store experiencing this. It’s the whole town.”
While the crowd’s disappointed “Aww” only appeared mildly disgruntled, you went rigid and your mind began racing, all thoughts revolving around a particular household.
One random thought of wondering What if Wanda went into labor right now? had the hair on your arms sticking straight up.
You slammed your hand down on the counter, spooking both the cashier and yourself.
“Ma’am,” you started, then paused to quickly apologize for your rudeness before continuing, “I need you to check me out as fast as humanly possible; I think my—” Wife seemed way out of line but girlfriend felt too out of place. “��pah-art-ner’s having a baby.”
You were struggling to your car with a small mountain of baby items in the arms in a matter of minutes, mentally kicking yourself for being bad at talking the entire way there. You threw your bags in the back, scrambled into the driver’s seat, and were getting ready to pull away from the curb when a ringing from your mobile phone sounded.
“Goddammit,” you huffed. One hand was pulling up an antenna and pressing the technological brick to your ear while the other gripped your steering wheel so hard that your knuckles turned three skin tones lighter. “Yeah, hello?”
“[Y/N]?” Agnes’s voice was a welcome surprise but her worried tone wasn’t.
“No, it’s your husband, I’m on my way home now, dear,” you snarked, then mentally kicked yourself again. “Sorry, that was rude, I’m in a rush. What’s crackin’? Besides the town going into blackout, that is.”
“The neighborhood’s flooded,” Agnes said simply.
You blanched. “I’m sorry?”
“The cul-de-sac? Something’s happened and all the pipes have burst. Mine, Herb’s, Dotty’s, everyone’s!”
How on earth the day’s mood has changed so quickly, you had no idea. What you did know is that you desperately had to get back to Wanda’s side, your house be damned.
“Thanks, ‘Nes, good to know,” you hissed through clenched teeth. You rested your phone between your ear and shoulder as you put both hands on the wheel and started driving.
“Do you want me to do anything?” Agnes asked; her voice sounded as frazzled as you and the rest of Westview looked. “Go over to your place, grab anything important?”
You huffed out a sigh as your car flew around a corner. “Agnes, you know I adore you, but I really, really have to go.”
“[Y/N]—”
You hung up and tossed the shoe-sized device in the passenger’s seat.
Vision met you on the curb as you were parking your car and he had the doctor from earlier that day in tow, now dressed in vacationing attire and very seeming very underprepared. Within a few words and as if you had accidentally wished it into existence back at the department store, you were informed that Wanda was in fact about to have little Billy or Tommy or who-have-you. Of course, this messy day would come to a peak in such a way.
The taller man was half-escorting, half-hauling both you and the doctor to the door, and the bags in the backseat of your car were completely forgotten as concern chewed away at your insides. Loud, strained sounds coming from inside only added onto it.
As the three of you reached the front door, Vision flung it open and pressed the doctor inside. Then he grabbed your wrist and began tugging you in after himself.
You couldn’t help your feet freezing to the concrete. “Vis, are you sure?”
The distress on his face softened just slightly and he pressed the back of your hand to his lips. “Of course we are.” Then he wrapped an arm around you and properly, albeit quickly, brought you into his and Wanda’s home—
—where Wanda was laying on the floor, panting and shimmering with sweat and holding a baby wrapped in a blue and white dishtowel while Geraldine perched awkwardly over her.
You and Vision shared a bug-eyed look before Vision’s turned into one of sadness. You wanted so badly to hug him and tell him it was alright but he was already releasing you and slowly walking over; you trailed a couple of steps after him.
“Oh no,” he murmured, “I missed it?” However, when he took a look at Wanda’s softly smiling face and their happily cooing baby, whatever brief grief he was experiencing was replaced by a proud smile and new fatherly glow.
“Hey, doc,” Geraldine spoke suddenly, “why don’t you help me out in the kitchen there?” She nodded in your direction as well.
You wondered why she was there, in Wanda’s home or Westview, at all. The idea made your stomach flip but you just couldn’t place why.
The only response the doctor gave was blubbering about speeding as she took his arm and led him away. You began to follow when Vision stopped you with a gentle tug on your arm.
“No, [Y/N],” he said, “it’s alright. Stay and come see.”
You didn’t even think as you smiled and took his hand. You took a glance towards the kitchen to make sure the other company was occupied, then kissed the back of his hand as he had done only a moment earlier. Squeezing it and letting it drop, you responded, “Go say hello to your baby. I’ll always be here.”
Given the current situation, Vision wasn’t up for arguing much. He gave you a quick peck on the temple before gingerly making his way over to where Wanda rested happily on the living room floor.
You made your way to the kitchen, where you slumped against the kitchen counter as exhaustion overtook you. You were close enough to both parties to hear Geraldine’s blatant attempts at distracting the doctor to your left and Vision and Wanda’s cozy rumblings to your right, but too out of sorts to make out anything tangible. You didn’t realize until now how badly your feet ached from the combination of gardening, decorating, and running around and how your outfit had lost its cute playfulness in place of wrinkles and feeling slightly damp from sweat. You were sure you were looking more worse for wear than Wanda, despite Wanda having had a baby, but when you thought about it for more than a second or two, you felt like you wouldn’t trade the day for any other in the world.
Especially when thinking about that cutie patootie, you thought with a tired smile. He’s gonna have such good parents. Such a good life.
Suddenly, your train of thought was stopped by the sound of Wanda yelling and your whole body jerked in her direction, energetic as ever.
Wanda was going into labor a second time, you could see easily see. Something somehow more surprising was going on in the living area, though, and that something was Vision’s skin. While he still wore his regular clothes, that was the only normal thing about him. Instead of light skin, his flesh was a deep red and you weren’t even sure it could be called skin; it looked more… mechanical than that, with symmetrical lines etched into some places and silver plating covering others. Instead of a full head of wavy hair, he had none, and his ears and parts of his bald skull were also covered in silver. Silver came to a peak at the top of his forehead and at the end of it was a golden gem.
Vision was holding his baby and yelling along with Wanda as she began pushing a second time. He happened to glance up and catch your bewildered eye and then he started yelling because of you.
You stood frozen in place, not sure what to do until you heard a commotion behind you.
“Well, what’s going on now?” Geraldine started.
Your brain kicked back into full gear and thinking quickly and somewhat stupidly, you yelled and pointed in the opposite direction, “Jeepers creepers, is that a stork?” You couldn’t imagine why your poor attempt at a distraction worked but you considered it a success as Geraldine and the still-disoriented doctor’s attention settled elsewhere. Not missing a beat, you grabbed another cloth from the kitchen and raced to Wanda and Vision’s aid, skidding to a halt on your knees.
“[Y/N],” Vision said, though nothing else followed. He stared at you in pure shock, mouth flapping and the bright blue irises of his eyes twisting and shifting like a camera lens as he looked at you. Still, his body worked despite his befuddled mind as he took the cloth you handed him and offered you a newborn baby to hold instead.
“[Y/N],” Wanda gasped through her current endeavor. When you dragged your head to look at her, she was staring at you with a clenched jaw and equally wide eyes, which were filled with a mixture of surprise, horror, and… relief? Then she was screaming and pushing again, eyes squeezed shut, and her hand flew to your own.
You grabbed it and held on tight, even when her fingernails dug in enough to leave marks for days. While a red and silver-skinned Vision handled the delivery like a champ—a bugged out, stammering, robotic champ who couldn’t figure out whether he should be looking at you, his wife, or the baby he was helping into the world but a champ nonetheless—you switched between offering encouraging words to the tiring new mother and cooing calmly at the newborn swaddled and resting cozily in the crook of your arm. Soon enough, Wanda was slumping back into the pillow behind her head and Vision was sitting back on his haunches with another quiet baby snuggled against his chest; your taut muscles sagged and the exhaustion you hit in the kitchen came rushing back.
You made sure Wanda was lucid enough to take her baby back and carefully transferred from your arms to hers. It was only after he was safely in his mother’s grasp that you were able to fully relax, tossing an arm around Vision’s shoulders and leaning heavily against him while you shook out your other hand, which was red and covered in deep, crescent moon-shaped marks.
“So,” you puffed, “Billy and Tommy?”
Wanda’s tired face lit up as she nodded her head towards her baby. “Tommy.”
Vision, who was leaning on you as much as you were on him—something in the back of your head noted that the two of you held each other very well and that something sent a little pang of affection straight to your pounding heart—used his turn to nuzzle the forehead of the baby he held and grumble in a half British, half baby-talk accent, “Billy.”
You hummed while stretching a hand down to give Billy a very ginger boop on the nose; he didn’t seem to mind. Then you said, “Vinny and Vivian will just have to be next time.”
Your group shuddered with a mess of tired, soft laughter. Then you began to relax further but as the excitement of childbirth began to wear off, you a new variation of tension settling into your couple. The new parents were sharing increasingly worried looks and if they were communicating telepathically, and it was then that you remembered that the man sitting next to you was for less human than you’d previously made him out to be.
The realization seemed to hit him at almost the same time because his head swung to look at you just as you had turned to observe his new appearance. On his robotic face—was robotic even the word; was he a robot?—was an expression of outright fear but also something that looked like he was mentally being torn in two different directions. He went to speak several times—his mouth and teeth looked the same, perfect and familiar—only to verbally scramble and backtrack, shaking his head and shrugging his shoulders since his hands were too occupied to scratch his neck. Finally, he appeared to get himself in order and he started, “[Y/N], I can— we can explain—”
You ran your hand over his scalp and down to rest at the base of his neck; the silver plating felt like metal, while the thick red epidermis was warm and softer to the touch. Not only warm but damp from exertion, and pulsing softly to some form of a heartbeat where you ran a finger over a common pulse point.
While your mental energy was rapidly declining, you still managed to quip at the man, “As much as loved the idea of running my fingers through your hair, I think I prefer this over that awful cut that’s in style right now.”
That left Vision dumbfounded and silent, his mouth flopping open and closed like a fish out of water. On your other side, who had been otherwise quiet and already snoozing as far as you were concerned, broke into a burst of loud laughter that was music to your ears.
You grinned in response but your muscles were too tired to make it reach your eyes. You shifted over slightly to be closer to Wanda now and brushed your thumb over little Tommy’s cheek before resting doing a similar action to his mother’s. Wanda relaxed her head against your palm and the way she looked up at you from under her lashes made you do mental gymnastics about the ethics of blurting out the L-word then and there.
Unfortunately, the moment didn’t last much longer because then Geraldine’s voice floated over from the kitchen, getting louder as she and the doctor made their way back from the wild stork chase you sent them on. You quickly looked to Vision, only to see him looking as human as the day you first met him, and noted the sad little string you got from seeing simple blue irises instead of the intricately shifting blue ones that swirled mechanically as he focused on something. It only lasted a moment, though, before you and your trio were busy readjusting yourselves into what you considered normal poses but in reality, probably made the three of you look much more awkward than you previously had.
You’d just finished settling as Geraldine and her companion walked into the living room and, thinking tiredly and definitely stupidly, you blurted, “Jeepers creepers, another baby!”
“Twenty fingers and twenty toes, you’ve got two healthy baby boys on your hands.”
“Thank you, doctor,” Wanda responded as the man handed Billy back to her. Vision stood watchfully next to her, holding Tommy.
You poked your head up from behind the second crib you were finishing assembling and as the doctor turned to thank Geraldine for her delivery help, you said to the Maximoff couple, “And a second crib all ready to go. If they’re not fans of sleeping separately, let me know and we can exchange the ones you have for one big one.”
Wanda held out her hand to you as you stood and you walked over to hold it only briefly as she thanked you before leaning over and crooning at Billy and Tommy in turn. You were in the company of others, after all, and there had been enough excitement for one day without revealing your polyamorous relationship to a neighbor and a random doctor.
It was weird how different the energy felt standing with them now than it had earlier just that day alone. Things still felt new and strange but you no longer felt like a separate unit from the household you were standing in or the people standing and smiling oh so sweetly at you. Then again, maybe that’s just what being involved in the arrival of an unexpected set of twins and making a superhuman discovery about one of your partners did to all blossoming romantic triads in the seventies.
Speaking of the doctor, as he began to finish up chatting with Geraldine, Vision beckoned you closer, and after getting an okay to do so, he carefully laid the baby he held in your arms. He gave Tommy a nuzzle and a light tap on the nose, then straightened up and headed towards the door.
He said to the other man, “Allow me to walk you out, doctor.”
“Oh, alright,” the doctor responded with an odd quiver in his voice. Said quiver was confirmed to be restlessness, which you had no doubt was attached to some sort of superhuman business Vision had involved him in when picking him up, when he continued, “As long as we actually walk this time?”
You would definitely have to delve into the mystery of Vision’s sometimes inhuman appearance at a later date but at that moment you were remembering how the entire neighborhood’s pipes had burst. The neighborhood of which your house was a part of and an event you were sure you hadn’t been lucky enough to avoid.
“Oh, shi—oot,” you stammered, “I should probably get back to my own pad and save what I can from getting water damage. I haven’t even been home to see how bad everything is.” You provided Tommy with a very important explanation in very serious baby babble terms before placing him in his crib. “I’ll just leave my car on this side of the street and bring the other stuff in sometime later this evening if that’s alright with you, Wanda?”
When you looked at her, she was giving you a confused head tilt. She blinked, then her eyes shot wide open. “Oh, the pipes!” She paused and turned her gaze to the far wall of the living room as if she could see your house through it, then looked back at you with a smile. “Your house should be fine. In fact, I think the entire neighborhood is back intact!”
Something about the way she looked at you assured you that she was right. You wondered whether Vision wasn’t the only one with a unique secret under this roof and if all the strange happenings that had gone on today couldn’t be traced back to Wanda herself.
Not that any of that really mattered in the grand scheme of things.
“I should still go,” you insisted, “You should really rest for a while, and I am a mess for the second time today. Maybe I can pop back over in a little bit?”
Wanda pursed her lips in a subtle doubt before giving in. She nodded and after taking a glance around to make sure the company was occupied, she grasped your hand and leaned in closer. “Come over for dinner tonight. Stay and help us get the babies settled in? We can talk about today.”
“Wanda, you need rest—”
The woman interrupted, a teasing look making her eyes glitter. “Which is why either you or Vision will be doing the cooking! And you know how much I love the man but there’s a reason the only thing he handles in the kitchen is water from the faucet.”
You had to nod in somber agreement at that statement, then sighed and gave Wanda a pout of your own. “Fine. Now, is anyone looking?”
Wanda was smiling triumphantly. She took another quick look around, then shook her head; her silky hair fanned out slightly from its position perfectly framing her head as she did.
You shuffled a little closer and slipped an arm around her waist in an intimate hug. Leaning in, you gave her one quick smooch on the cheek and another on the forehead then mumbled against her skin, “You did amazing.” Another kiss. “And you’re going to be a wonderful mother. Please, though, promise me that you’ll rest, at least for a little bit. The world will not crumble around you if you take one break.”
Wanda, who had immediately leaned into your embrace and giggled as you kissed her, scoffed slightly. She gave you a tight squeeze and murmured back, “I suppose you’re right. Fine, but only because you promised to cook.”
“Well, technically,” you said as you broke away from her, “I only said I’d come over. I can’t wait for Vision to make us burnt water and boiled bacon!”
Wanda stared after you, frozen in a mock gasp. “[Y/N]!”
You grinned and waved before spinning on your heels and trotting over to where Vision was perched, holding the door. “Bye!”
When you got to the door, Vision’s hand played lightly down your back as he followed you outside after the doctor.
“Well, Dr. Nielson,” Vision said, “I hope you’re still able to make your trip.”
The doctor, apparently Dr. Nielson, slowed as he stepped off the porch and onto the sidewalk. He turned towards Vision with a glassy look in his eye that he hadn’t had before but you’ve been seeing more and more often in Westview residents these days. When he talked, his speech became slower as well.
“Ah, yes, about my trip,” he drawled, “I don’t think we’ll get away after all. Small towns, you know. So hard to… escape.”
You frowned, suddenly uneasy. Glancing at Vision, the man just looked confused.
Dr. Nielson’s glassy gaze shifted from Vision to you. He spoke deliberately to you, “Don’t you think, [Y/N]?” Then he blinked, turned, and walked off down the sidewalk.
You weren’t sure exactly why, but you flinched and reeled back. You would have tripped and fallen up the porch if it weren’t for Vision catching you. Then the two of you stood gripping each other and staring as the doctor disappeared around the corner.
You didn’t even realize that your ears had started ringing until the sound began to fade. You started, “Well, that was…”
“Yeah,” Vision said with a slow nod. “Very. Are you alright?”
“Fine, I think.”
“No migraines?”
“No migraines.”
The two of you stood holding each other for a moment longer before you forced your fingers to loosen their death grip on Vision’s jacket. As the two of you relaxed slightly and readjusted yourselves, several questions rushed through your head, like why was that so unnerving and why did the doctor speak directly to you.
How had he known your name?
A particularly sharp pain made your vision swim temporarily but it was gone as soon as it came. Before you think any further on the subject, other voices floated into your range of hearing.
“What is she doing in there?”
“I don’t know.”
You followed the voices with your eyes and found Agnes and Herb talking quietly by the wall Herb had been cutting into earlier; actually, Herb looked like he’d barely moved an inch, still standing in the gap between his wall of shrubs. At least he appeared more lucid, but now he and Agnes were huddled together like they were having a secret meeting. Neither of them noticed you yet.
Vision decided to change that by throwing up a hand and hollering, “Howdy neighbors!”
Agnes spun around so quickly you were wonder if she’d given herself whiplash, but the strained greetings and even more strained expressions that both she and Herb gave were what really piqued your interest.
Well, not so much piqued your interest than their actions gave you a second dose of uneasiness that made your head spin and filled you with a sense of somewhat morbid curiosity.
Then they stuck their heads back together and continued muttering.
“Did you see her go inside?” Agnes questioned.
Herb responded, “She went right in.”
Vision leaned his head closer to yours; he didn’t seem to catch what they were saying. “Do they seem… a little off to you?”
“Just a tad.”
You silently deliberated with each other before casually strolling over.
“Remarkable day we’re having, no?” Vision tried again.
Agnes and Herb looked up again, also trying to look casual but there was something definitely worrisome about their equally strained smiles.
Vision continued, “Did you lose power too?”
You snapped your fingers, joining in. “That’s right! Agnes, you called me about the pipes bursting. I hope nothing got too damaged?”
“Oh, sure did,” Agnes said to Vision, “but Ralph looks better in the dark, so I’m not complaining. And you’re right, I did, [Y/N]! Luckily, everything’s just fine.”
There was an awkward pause and even though you were out in open air, you felt like you were struggling to breathe in a sauna.
Vision said, “Hi, Herb.”
Herb responded, “Heya, buddy.”
More awkward silence.
“Well,” Vision said slowly, lightly clapping his hands together, “I’ll get back to Wanda. [Y/N], you’re heading home?”
“Right,” you affirmed, a little too quickly.
What is going on?
Vision placing his hand on your back brought back some sense of normalcy as he began escorting you to the curb.
“Vision,” Agnes abruptly said halting your exit. You and your partner turned back to her and Herb and she continued after a long-winded pause and adjusting her awkward stance leaning against the low wall, “Is Geraldine inside with Wanda?”
“Yes. Why?”
Herb piped up, “She’s new to town. Brand new.”
Wait, that’s not right. Your brows furrowed and you felt the sting of your own bite as you chewed your bottom lip. You felt pressure in your skull as you tried to recall where you’d previously met the woman, because you knew you had, but trying to do so had a similar feeling to trying to grip water as it rushed through your fingers.
Agnes went on, “There’s no family. No husband.”
You would have scowled, said something in defense of your circumstances of moving to Westview without a family or marriage, but you were too busy trying to clear away the fog that quickly encroaching your headspace. Vision, on the other hand, was able to say something, “Well there’s nothing wrong with that.”
Agnes hummed, gave a half-hearted nod, then steadily met his gaze. “No home.”
Come to think of it, you knew very little about Geraldine. While you were positive that you’d met her before today, you couldn’t for the life of you place what she did for work, when she first appeared in Westview, what house in the cul-de-sac she lived in—
You could list off the names of everyone who lived in your neighborhood. Geraldine wasn’t one of them.
Your brain felt like it could expand and explode from the intense pressure at any moment but the dread pooling in the pit of your stomach from the idea of not being able to retrieve memories bothered you far more. You couldn’t bring yourself to push the thoughts away and instead mentally leaned into the pain. The harder you pushed, the more pressure pushed back, as if you were fighting against an invisible barrier that was barring you from your own memories.
At the same time, you attempted to keep yourself grounded by staying tuned into the conversation at hand. Vision asked Agnes what she meant by Geraldine having no home and Herb kept stumbling over the same beginning of a sentence—She came here because… She came here because… She came here because we’re all…—like he was a record on a broken player that just wouldn’t let him get out what he wanted to say.
Vision tried to urge him on. “She came here because what? What are trying to tell me?”
With Agnes and Herb bickering briefly about whether or not to tell Vision whatever it was they had been speaking about, Vision completely tuned into them, and you fighting to remember things without succumbing to your migraines, you had an underlying feeling of being out of place. You’ve felt out of place before, of course, but this was something different and weird and wrong. Your entire perfect—but not so much, you were gradually learning—little town suddenly seemed like it was out of place in its state, its country, its world, its reality. Out of nowhere, Westview felt like it was trapped in a claustrophobic little bubble that wouldn’t let anyone escape and the longer anyone was here, the warped things would become—
A memory came rushing back of a black and white talent show and a smashed mirror and an arm oozing blood and color and Geraldine was there but she was an eerie Geraldine, out of place and time and reality and asking if you knew who she was or who you were and you didn’t know the answer and then Wanda and Vision appeared and everything was okay again, and now the name Monica throbbed against the base of your neck and the air around you radiated electricity and it was itchy and no one around you was noticing anything and instead of darkness, a weird bright light was tinging the edges of your vision white and—
There was a crash coming from the house and none of the people standing next to you were any the wiser but even though you felt like you were swimming through honey while doing it, you turned just in time to see a portion of a nearby wall explode as something shot out from inside and continued flying until it disappeared into the distance. Then there was a sound similar to a sonic boom that followed and a wave of nausea crashed over you as the electric air rippled and distorted right before your eyes, and then you could see the dome of TV static-looking energy that encapsulated your town and the dome seemed to peak directly above the Maximoff house.
Your ears rang. Your mouth flapped open closed but you couldn’t force a single word out. You looked around and everyone else in your group seemed trapped in a strained conversation that they couldn’t escape from if they wanted to.
You didn’t so much walk as you floated over to the gaping hole in the side of your couple’s house, or at least, that’s what it felt like as the ground grew soft and wobbly under your feet and you swayed as you moved. You reached the hole and peered through it, then waved aimlessly when you saw Wanda staring wide-eyed at you from a couple of demolished rooms away. She said or mouthed something—she’s sorry? Why?—but you couldn’t tell which it was over the thrumming of your own pulse in your ears. You cocked your head, more out of curiosity than confusion, then blinked and stared glassy-eyed as the hole in the house reversed itself.
“Huh,” you said dumbly as the last brick fell back into place. “Cool.”
Then your body felt as if it were slammed back onto very hard, solid ground and that’s because it was. You weren’t sure if you whined or groaned or screamed as you collapsed to the ground, succumbing to your worst migraine yet.
#marvel#marvel x reader#marvel headcanons#marvel imagines#mcu#mcu x reader#mcu imagines#mcu headcanons#wandavision#wandavision x reader#wandavision imagines#wandavision headcanons#poly!wandavision#poly wandavision#gender neutral reader#reader insert#fanfiction#scarlet witch#vision#marvel vision#wanda maximoff#scarlet witch x reader#scarlet witch imagines#scarlet witch headcanons#wands maximoff x reader#wanda maximoff imagines#wanda maximoff headcanons#vision x reader#vision imagines#vision headcanons
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Tracing Constellations, pt.2
The moment you’ve all been waiting for
Chapter Two: A Clarity
By the early evening, they had made it. Their journey was long and rough, leaving their muscles aching and in desperate need of rest. Ahead was a rather large shack nearly hidden by the towering elms all around it. Jean wasn’t really well versed in architecture, but he remembered one of Armin’s late night ramblings about an ancient style of housing that the cabin-like building resembled. It was a nice, homey looking place. Though it seemed long abandoned with ivy spreading up the walls and leaves camouflaging the roof and scattering the ground. To the east came a loud shushing sound, easily identifiable as a clogged up creek. Bingo.
“Yeah, tell me about it. We’re definitely going to have to stay the night here.” Marco chimed, trying to conceal the excitement that the sentiment brought.
They set the rest of their stuff by the rock-lined fire pit before making their way to the waterside. Water was building up rapidly, overflowing to the sides. Blocking it’s path was a massive oak tree, water only barely trickling over the top.
“Oh shit,” Jean began, rolling up his trousers and stepping in for a closer inspection.
Marco followed suit, yards of thick rope in his grasp. “Luckily it’s fairly hollow.” he called from behind Jean over the sound of water forcibly hitting the log. “The tree itself won’t be too heavy, it’s just stuck. Look there,” he gestured to the base of the tree trapped in the thick walls of the compacted mud. “It’s just trapped. If we attach rope to either side and pull at an angle, perhaps we can free it and get it to the surface.” he concluded with a small, self-satisfied smile, clearly proud of his little assessment. Marco always seemed to take joy in the simplest things, and Jean would be lying if he said it wasn’t endearing.
Jean smiled devilishly. “Well done my brilliant friend. Let’s get this started.” Marco gave a dramatic salute before getting to work, tying the rope tightly to one end of the tree. Jean took a nearby stick to dig at the tough mud, aiming to loosen its grip on the tree. Marco noticed and began to do the same. Soon enough, they felt a thudded movement of the tree as water poured in from the sides.
“It’s coming loose!” Marco leapt. “Jean, I’ll drag the rope up my end, you meet me with your end, ok?”
Jean lifted the rope. “Ok, aye aye captain!” he yelped.
With just enough force from Marco’s end and Jean coming to meet him on the same edge of the creek, the water ferociously gushed in, releasing all the built up tension behind the log.
“Alright ready to flip it?!” Jean called out over the rushing water, and was met with a swift, “Yep, heave!” With one last bout of labor, they had gotten the bulky tree over the edge of the water, the makeshift dam no longer able to wreak havoc on their water supply.
And with that, Jean dramatically flung himself into the semi shallow water, the flowing tide steadying to a more constant trickle as it evened out. Marco starred in bafflement before howling with a poorly contained laughter.
“Jean! What on earth are you doing!” he cried between laughs. Jean had that devilish grin on his face again, and Marco knew exactly what was coming - he was next. “Jean, Jean no. Splash me and I will have no choice but to go in and defeat you myself.” he pleaded, threatened, warned, but despite his desperate cries and admonishing face, Jean got closer, arms in position to fire water directly at him.
“I’d like to see you try.” he said menacingly, before pushing a massive wave of water to the surface, full on drenching Marco on the spot.
Oh. This was war.
Marco hurdled into the deepest part of the creek, a battle cry leaving his lips as he shoved a tall wall of water onto the other. Managing to side step his first attack, Jean beamed as his eyebrows furrowed, face contorting to that of a jester.
“Jean, oh my God.” he chuckled, a standoff between the two men putting them at a pause. Jean bent low in the water, soaking his chest.
“Well? Gonna come and get me?” he taunted, smirking his most devilish smile. Marco eagerly leapt at him, arms wrapping around the bulkier man in a wrestle. The two danced in and out of the embrace with Jean finally gaining the upper hand, slamming Marco backwards into the water. Marco let out a small cry, soon to be muffled by the incoming water enveloping the pair.
The two quickly resurfaced, Jean looking more than pleased with his second consecutive win, and Marco coughing and hacking up stream water.
“Oh shit. Marco, I'm sorry, are you ok?”
“I'm-” Marco proceeded to nearly cough up an entire lung, obviously not having been prepared to be body-slammed mercilessly into a deepish body of water.
Jean sloshed his way over to his choking friend patting him on the back hard as if that would somehow help the situation.
“Jea-” cough “It’s fin-” couch “Just sto-”
“It’s not fine, I almost drowned you! Here um I know the Heimlich maneuver!” Jean said in a panic, rushing to stand behind Marco. Of course the Heimlich maneuver wouldn’t do a damned thing to help, but Jean didn’t need to know that, as for Marco’s master plan to work he needed to lull the other into his trap. Now directly behind him, Jean couldn’t see the absolutely devious grin on Marco’s face.
Jean hurriedly wrapped his arms around the other’s torso and before he could start the first compression Marco turned to face him at the speed of light. Confused and a bit startled, Jean froze in place, finally realizing the deep shit he was in once he saw Marco’s lopsided and evil grin.
Fuck. He was tricked. That cheeky little bastard.
“Wait, Marco-”
Before Jean could plead for his life, Marco's hands were already steadfast onto each of his shoulders.
“Now, accept your defeat!” Marco dramatically yelled as he forcefully dunked a yelping Jean under the rushing current. He let out a downright maniacal laugh, still reaching Jean’s ears over the rumbling sound of being dunked into the water.
He grabbed blindly in Marco’s direction, finding what felt to be his shirt and hoisting himself up with a gasp. The quick movement and general unsteadiness of the creek caused him to lose his balance, Marco catching him by the waist before he capsized again. Marco looked at Jean with a satisfied grin, and Jean could only sigh exasperatedly after finally catching his breath.
“Why do people think you're the nice one?”
“What? You started it. All I did was finish it.”
“You’re a demon.”
“Only for you~”
Jean promptly shook the remaining water from his hair, making damn sure it got on the smirking devil in front of him. Marco chuckled at his petty revenge, turning his head to avoid most of the incoming droplets, though not retreating his arms holding Jean upright.
Their impulsive little duel in the water had them both utterly soaked, Marco’s white shirt practically useless as it clung tight and sheer on his body. Of course, Jean had seen his bare arms and chest before but never this close up. Never with said arms still wrapped around his damn waist. They were really no further than a foot away from each other and Jean felt his face heating up as he looked everywhere but Marco’s face. His sun kissed shoulders were speckled with freckles that matched his cheeks and it made Jean want to know just how much of Marco was covered with them.
Whoa.
What?
Back the fuck up.
He did not just think about Marco’s naked body while being held this close in his arms and shit shit shit abort mission. NOW.
Jean rather abruptly shook himself out of Marco’s gentle hold, looking absolutely everywhere but at the man himself. His face was probably bright red with the embarrassing amount of heat radiating off it. He could practically feel the questioning look on Marco’s face but Jean was absolutely not going to let him voice it.
“Hey, you hungry? Let’s uh... get dressed and get some grub, shall we?”
Though it was technically a question, Jean didn’t wait for an answer. He was up and out of the water before Marco could so much as say “polo”.
Jean didn’t walk towards the shed so much as run to it.
The embarrassment and guilt ate at his psyche and all Jean could do to stop it was just pretend it wasn’t there. He wasn’t going to make things awkward for the rest of the night because he was… Imaging his best friend naked? In a not so dude-bro way? No. No, he hadn’t assured that yet. He was only thinking about his friend’s freckles… And there was nothing inherently inappropriate about that. Right. Jean was fine. Marco was fine. Everything was fine.
He decided to go with that explanation for now.
Jean dressed in the shed first, putting on what sort of resembled sleepwear before hanging his soaked clothes to dry over a tree limb. Marco did so next, coming out of the shed dressed in plain brown pants and a thick white tunic that hung low, exposing a part of his dotted chest. Jean tried not to notice, really, he did, but it was hard. For some inexplicable reason, he was drawn to it.
Seeing the sun begin to set, Marco took initiative and got a head start on a fire in the pit yards away from the shed. Jean dug through the bags to grab food, sheepishly bringing it over to Marco at the fire pit.
“It’s uh just wrapped rations, nothing special.” Jean explained, handing the sitting man a packet.
“Thanks Je-” Marco began before a scream escaped Jean’s lips,
“But I snuck BOOOOOOZE!” he exclaimed, holding out a bottle of hard liquor. Marco’s mouth flew open.
“You sneaky bastard!” Marco teased, causing Jean to stick his tongue out playfully.
“I know, you love it” Jean said, sitting cross legged not but a palms length away from Marco.
The sun quickly fell behind the mountainside, leaving a distant dim glow as the crackling fire took its place as the center source of light. The smell of wood burning and the trickling sound of fresh water reminded Jean of how much he missed simply just enjoying the outdoors.
“Yknow,” Marco began as Jean opened the bottle and took a swig. “I’ve never been camping before.” Jean raised his eyebrows in disbelief, handing him the bottle.
“This is news to me, you sure know how to navigate in the wilderness!” Marco chuckled, taking a swig.
“Guess you can teach me a thing or two more,” he winked. Jean stirred, his hands finding stability only when the bottle was passed back to him. Jeez Marco had no right looking so-
“Well then, a toast!” he exclaimed perhaps a bit too loudly.
Marco looked at him quizzically. “Hah, to what?” Us he wanted to say, almost feeling the word slip off his tongue before correcting it.
“To Marco’s first night outdoors!” He held the bottle up in triumph, taking a large swig before handing it back to Marco, who did the same. They laughed heartily at the sentiment before settling to let the booze make its effect on their minds and bodies.
The moon’s soft white luster shone down onto the pair, reflecting off the fracturing water of the now ever-flowing stream. Broken images of adjacent trees appeared as inky veins dancing upon the water’s surface, nearly as mesmerizing of a sight as were the blinking flames in front of them. For a short while, there was a tranquil sort of silence. The soft sounds of a forested night; a lullaby, as Jean and Marco simply sat there, existing together under the dull shine of the stars.
The crackling heat of the fire provided ample warmth and light, allowing Jean an inviting gaze toward his companion's calmed face, eyelids shut softly as he enjoyed the slight chilly breeze. Jean let his eyes scan down the expanse of Marco’s figure, stopping at his toned, freckle-peppered arms. For reasons he could not decipher, Marco’s freckles enveloped his mind. Unbeknownst to Jean, he reached out to touch them, tracing shapes and constellations into the dots adorning Marco’s arm.
Marco startled a bit at the sudden touch, though upon seeing Jean’s peaceful, zoned out state, made no turn to move. His heart stammered in his chest, the light tracing of Jean's thumb on his arm spreading chills throughout his entire body. His mind abandoned any rational thought as he watched, rather felt Jean’s pointer finger and thumb gingerly dance across his skin. It was such a gentle gesture, one Marco hadn’t seen Jean ever perform. As his feather-light touch ran ever so slightly higher, Marco couldn’t hold back a twitch, halting Jean in his place. What on earth was he doing? Jean yanked his hand back close to his chest and averted his gaze back to the trees, the creek, the shack, hell anything but Marco.
“Uh, sorry,” he mumbled under his breath, just barely audible over the steady whooshing of running water. For the second time that night Jean’s face felt hotter than hell itself.
“It’s okay,” Marco whispered back, looking over at his now abashed friend. “I… don’t mind.” he finished and Jean glanced up, dilated eyes looking up through his lashes, not knowing what that response meant.
“Listen, Jean, I-” Marco began, liquid courage pushing him almost as hard as Ymir’s words the previous night. Jean crossed his arms in front of his chest, uncomfortable and otherwise unmoving as he took in Marco’s increasingly anxious behavior. “Fuck it, I just- Gah.” he swore, bringing his hands to grab nervously at his reddening face. Jean shivered, though he doubted it was due to the chilling air. What was the matter? Was it him? Did he make him uncomfortable?
Assuming that was certainly the case, Jean tugged in his legs close to his chest, demeanor physically decreasing. “I’m sorry, shouldn’t have.... Was weird. I-” he was silenced by Marco’s fingertips resting on his knee in an action of reassurance.
“I liked it.” he hurriedly quipped, before his eyes widened and his cheeks grew a more prominent crimson. Marco turned away and looked off into the fire, seeming to contemplate something, though his hand stayed placed atop his knee. If Jean was being completely honest with himself, he was terrified. Terrified of himself, of fucking everything up, of how nice it felt to be touched like this…
Despite being a self-proclaimed womanizer, Jean was often untouched, making the sensation of Marco’s fingers upon his knee amplified and probably more intimate than was intended. But still, he longed for more, so much more. His mind went foggy as he tried to decipher what this all meant, what this entire night had ment. His skin felt hot as he took a deep breath, looking at Marco with equal amounts of concern and desire.
The want to always be close by to him, the walls of confidence and arrogance that seemed to falter and collapse when with him, the unjustifiable jealousy towards Ymir who had only just became close-ish to him, his obsession with seeing him laugh, seeing him happy, seeing him prattle on about his childish feather collection and seeing those freckles and that damned smile: it was all leading towards the same answer, an answer Jean didn’t know he was ready to fully confront.
Marco was still facing the dwindling fire, a heavy look weighing his features down. Unsure of what to do, but knowing he ought to do something, he rested a hand atop Marcos. He turned away from the smoldering coals to look Jean in the eyes, features flashing a whole myriad of emotions Jean couldn’t even begin to decipher. The tension between them grew as they both stared at one another, neither of them knowing how to proceed.
As if God Herself had had enough of the two’s back and forth antics, a downpour of rain started to fall from the darkened sky. Feeling the icy drops of water on his skin, Marco instinctively let Jean go, making his way up and off the now dampening ground.
“Ah shit, looks like the storm followed us here.” Marco awkwardly blurted, the contrast of the casual line with the previously tense staredown like chalk against a blackboard, finally breaking the impenetrable silence. Marco turned to start towards the shed, though when Jean didn’t follow, he threw him a worried glance. Jean knew he had to go in - this type of rain only meant bad news to come and it wasn’t like he wanted to ruin another pair of clothes... But something was stopping him. He was nervous. Nervous of the fire in Marcos eyes yet realizing he wanted it more than anything.
Seeing Jean unmoving as rain drenched his body, Marco bit his lips nervously, swimming with his own uncertainties and nerves from it all.
“Jean…?” he re-approached calmly, voice cautious as if approaching some sort of wild animal. The air grew colder and wetter as the winds picked up, Jean’s mumbled response rendered inaudible as he shook in the frigid air. He slowly stood, still fixating on the ground as the two made their way inside.
…
It seemed like this untouchable silence was to follow them inside as well.
The two men stood face to face in that rustic styled living room, Marco leaning against the east most wall and Jean standing limp by the door, neither sure if they had the courage to initiate what they both so desperately wanted. Marco looked at him with practically every traceable emotion etched onto his features. Jean could feel his remaining walls starting to chip away, a long running crack threatening to crumble the blockade into an unidentifiable nothing. Fine. He knows what he’s got to do.
A second of contemplation later and finally, it crumbles.
Jean makes his way over to the other, wordlessly and with his brain running damn miles a minute. Marco let out a shaky breath as Jean continued to step towards the other, stopping just a footstep in front of him. He looked a bit startled, though not afraid. If anything, Jean would say Marco looked… hopeful? Relieved? He reached out, hand grazing Marco’s hair as he settled it onto the wall behind him, leaning closer still. Marco was essentially trapped between the wood wall flush against his back and Jean, enclosing arm, yet he still did not look uncomfortable.
He had already made it this far… It was too late to chicken out right? Last minute thoughts raced in Jean’s mind as Marco's eyes looked up into his from wherever they were set before. His gaze was intense, his eyes aflame with a fire Jean had never seen in the other before. Now he wasn’t necessarily great with feelings and general social awareness, but looking into those fire orbs Jean saw nothing that said ‘Stop’
And so Jean said ‘Fuck it’
Jean finally closed the remaining space between them, lips meeting lips and- oh. OH. Jean’s body ignited with a sense of overwhelming intensity and desperation, the long awaited action of this sending his mind into overdrive. He was kissing Marco. Marco was kissing him. Marco didn’t hesitate to cup his jaw, Jean leaning into the touch before grabbing onto his arm. His other hand slid down from the base of the wall to slink around his waist, pulling the goddamned beautiful man closer.
Marco took initiative in deepening the kiss, eliciting unexpected hum from Jean’s lips. He let his other hand fall to meet Marcos waist, wanting nothing more than to graze his heated skin underneath the damp cloth, though Jean pulled back for a second, allowing room for retaliation or, possibly, resentment.
“Is this okay?” he whispered.
Marco nodded, fingers toying with the man's wet hair. “It’s more than okay.” he replied before Jean resumed his actions, lips meeting his with urgency. If it didn’t feel real at first, it sure as hell felt real now, and Jean was soaring.
It was sudden when Marco pulled back, hands moving to graze up and down Jean’s chest. Jean looked at him with nothing but fondness and ease, all his barriers down for him and him alone in this moment. Marco looked in his arms, skin burning with heat and eyes flaring with longing.
“Well…” Marco chuckled nervously, and Jean grinned. “This is unexpected,” Marco finished his sentence in a hush whisper.
Jean bit his tongue, more worried about this reaction than he had expected. “In a… good way?” he asked as anxiety crept its way into his slightly shaking hands. Marco put his forehead to his, getting a better look into his eyes. “You tell me,” he taunted.
Jean’s features took a turn for the serious, as he softly rocked his forehead against Marco’s. “Marco…” he began, the tone of his voice causing the said man to tremble slightly. “You have no idea how long I've wanted to do this... with you.” As Marco peered through the darkened wet strands of Jean’s hair, he saw his eyes were glistening. Tears. Jean was crying. Unable to spit even a syllable out in return, Marco simply brushed his lips against his in a kiss. This time, it was Jean who returned the action with haste. Marco cupped his cheeks and felt their fresh tears mixed with warm flesh as they kissed once again, this time, with mutual cognizance.
Jean began laughing between kisses, almost unable to comprehend what was happening. He hadn’t realized how damaging it had been trying to ignore his feelings for Marco, nor how euphoric it would feel to finally acknowledge them. Marco pushed him back impishly and Jean caught his near-fall before grabbing Marco’s hand and holding it in his own.
“Is this real…?” Marco asked mindlessly, focusing entirely on their hands entangling as Jean rubbed his thumb over his forefinger.
“It better fucking be,” Jean half-joked. “'Cus if it’s a dream, please don’t ever wake me up” he concluded, studying Marco’s lightly speckled skin in the little light the shack provided.
“Hug me, please” Marco hushed, embarrassed at the question despite having kissed the man already. Jean flushed, the demand sending chills down his spine and making something in the pit of his stomach flip. Without a word, Jean snaked his arms around him, Marco hesitantly leaning his head on Jean’s broad shoulder. It was an apprehensive embrace at first, as if they still were somewhat afraid this was some kind of prank. He held him, too, and Marco’s hands were tangled around his neck. After a moment of comforting solace, it seemed Marco had finally realized that yes, this was in fact real. “Thank you.” he muffled into the crook of his neck.
Jean smiled, placing a small kiss to the top of his head. “No, thank you,” he said.
“Why?” Marco chuckled. Jean stroked his back, stepping somehow even closer in the embrace.
“Because you’re the most beautiful fuckin’ man I’ve ever laid eyes on…” he worded earnestly. Marco giggled cutely and placed a gentle kiss to his neck, nearly eliciting an embarrassing gasp from Jean.
“Says Jean fucking Kirstein.” he emphasized, kissing his neck again. Jean flushed furiously. He was seriously going to die.
“Mhph- don’t tease me, Bodt” he bit, forcing Marco’s head up as he collided with his lips again. Marco’s eyes widened as their bodies hit the wall, hands once more exploring and teasing through clothes.
Jean hiked his hands up Marco’s shirt, feeling his hot torso beneath as he thumbed the outline of his toned chest. Marco rutted against him, his hands moving to his hips in an attempt to bring him closer. “Ah-“ Jean hitched, his breath wavering as their clothed bodies rubbed against each other. Kisses deepened and tongues grazed curiously. All that could be heard in the little shack made for two were breathy moans and wanton grasps as the night took a physically fervent direction.
__________
Jean woke up in a daze, last night barely able to find its way back into his mind as his eyesight adjusted to the morning light. He shifted slightly before noticing Marco lying naked on his chest, hand snaked behind his head.
A smile easily spread over his tired face as the shining sun was proof the evening they shared wasn’t a dream or another figment of his imagination. It was real, and he treasured the feeling of Marco’s soft skin touching his. Careful to not wake him, he shyly traced false patterns on his speckled shoulder, elated at the prospect that he could just do that now.
A slight gust of cool wind slithered under the door and into the room, making Marco shiver slightly in his sleep. Jean pulled the fleece blanket to better cover the both of them as he continued to swipe his fingers across his skin. But it was too late, as Marco had already opened his pretty brown eyes.
Not being near awake enough to communicate, he entangled himself with Jean’s body as he reveled in the feeling of his skin being touched. Jean took this as full confidence there was no regret concerning what had happened and he kissed his forehead, hand ever so softly tickling his back.
Marco hummed, smiling into his touch as he slowly eased awake. He moved his head further into Jean’s chest, peppering him with small kisses as both of their quickening heart beats thumped against one another. Jean’s comforting touch faltered slightly, not being able to focus on much of anything other than the soft lips against his chest. Noticing this, Marco lifted his head up to be eye-level with him.
“Hi,” he grumbled cutely, voice deep and ridden with sleep.
“Hi,” Jean grumbled back, reaching slightly to place a quick kiss on Marco’s nose. They admired each other's sweat-lined skin before Jean spoke up again. “So,” he gulped, and Marco let out a low, grovely chuckle.
“We fucked and now you can barely look me in the eyes?” Jean went bright red. Hearing Marco’s joking tone and following chuckle didn’t lessen the effect this sentence had on him.
“I- sorry. Just never-” he began, and Marco placed his fingers on the man's chin.
“Me neither.” he confirmed, letting out a shaky breath.
Jean swung his thigh over Marco’s in a desperate attempt to get even closer - a clear sign to Marco that he was content with their situation. He snuggled closer, the blanket enveloping the both of them from the cool winds.
“Can I kiss you?” he breathed.
Marco’s sun-kissed cheeks went pink, those words being uttered to him by Jean only ever being a part of his late night fantasies.
“Of course,” he managed, and Jean obliged, leathery lips kissing him in a delicate action of reverence.
“Jean,” Marco began, breaking the kiss. “Before anything… y'know. I have to know your feelings on, this, I guess. I’m not- I can’t just leave until I have absolute clarification. Listen, if this was just a one-off, I understand, but-”
Marco was silenced by Jean using his thigh to maneuver himself on top, resting atop the man before answering his plea. “I don’t want this to be a one-off, Marco. Believe me, last night was a blast, but you need to understand it’s you that has me smitten - you who has me wanting to stay in this stupid shack forever. And for some goddamn reason, you fuckin like me just as much as I like you.” he answered wholeheartedly. Marco opened his mouth to speak but was cut off as Jean continued on. “Fuck, what I’m trying to say is it wasn’t the alcohol or anything that led to last night. Marco, I kissed you because for a long time now, I knew I didn’t want to be friends. And… being alone with you it just - it opened that up for me and-”
His words caught in his throat as Marco used his same technique to hoister himself on top. He smiled from ear to ear, a sight Jean couldn’t get enough of. “If at any point in time you would’ve made a move, I’d’ve been yours. That talk I had with Ymir? It was about you. Jean, if you’re serious, I need a definitive-”
“Yes.”
“Yeah?”
“Sorry, let me rephrase: fuck yes”
Marco could’ve squealed, elation running through his veins as he watched Jean’s equally giddy reaction. He adored Jean, his bluntness, sarcasm, and tender heart. Not everyone knew of Jean’s warm heart, they hadn’t given the jock the chance. But Marco did, and to Jean, that’s all that mattered. They kissed for the thousandth time before laying back down in a fervent embrace, both knowing they had to get up and head back to camp soon but neither making the move to do so.
Eventually, and begrudgingly, they got up. A little cleanup and packing was done before they got fully dressed, ready to make the trip back. “We still have several hours,” Marco pointed out as he slipped his backpack on.
Jean grinned. “Yeah?”
Marco nodded. “We could… if you wanted to, hold hands?” he finished. Jean blushed despite how juvenile it may have seemed as he took Marco’s hand in his, giving a light squeeze of assurance.
“You never have to ask to hold my hand,” he chuckled.
A few hours had passed as the overcast sky seemed somehow even brighter than usual, their spirits beyond content with themselves and the world around them. Jean looked at Marco as their hands stuck like glue, neither daring to let go. Overwhelmed with adoration of the man next to him, Jean snaked his hand behind his waist, pulling him close. Marco stopped out of surprise, returning the action and turning his head to kiss him.
“Fuck you,” he snipped as he smiled. Jean played with his hair.
“You already did.” he quipped, causing Marco’s face to glow a bright red.
“I- ah-” he stammered as Jean kissed him again.
“I don’t ever want to go back,” Jean whispered, resting his head on the man's shoulder as they slowly began to pick up the pace again. Marco rubbed Jean’s back lovingly as they stayed conjoined at the hip.
“It’ll be okay. We’ll find time to sneak around. Especially at night”. Jean closed his eyes for a moment, imagining several nights of being close to him before waking up the next day to have it be their own little secret. That was okay by him, and by Marco too.
It was nearly nightfall when the pair had finally made it back, the sleeping quarters seen just ahead in the distance, lit by the torches lining the paths. They sighed, letting go of each other as they attempted to keep some semblance of normality of who they were before.
A hacking noise was heard, and Marco whipped his head to the side to see Ymir chopping wood. “Ymir?! What are you doing out so late?” Marco gasped. Ymir got up, striding toward them as she spoke. “Dumbasses back there are bickering. I’d rather be out here in order to avoid a headache.” she said flatly. Jean could only nod, as he had no idea what to say in reply.
“Fair enough,” Marco said nervously, watching as she crept closer to Jean. She pulled down the collar of his shirt and smirked.
“Ah Marco, it seems you finally learned how to ride horses.” she quipped. Jean nearly died right there on the campground and Marco let a hand shoot up to cover his mouth in surprise.
“Ymir!” he exclaimed before laughing out of embarrassment and defeat. She cackled before resting an arm on his shoulder, eyeing Jean’s absolutely horrified expression. “I’m proud of you, really. It was about time something was done about you two.”
Jean straightened out, a hand covering half of his face.”You… oh shit. You won't-”
“Tell anyone?” She finished, cutting through the bullshit. “No, ‘course not. That’s up to the two of you.” she smiled, calming the boys down.
Marco looked at her with a gentle gratitude. “Ymir, thank you. But… How do we keep this from everyone else? I just- I’m not ready. Jean isn’t ready.” he suggested before looking to Jean who was nodding furiously in confirmation. Ymir put her hand to her chin in momentary contemplation.
“Look, I’m not telling you all my secrets. But I can give a few. For now though I’ll just say this: if Christa and I can get away with it, so can you two knuckleheads.”
Jean’s eyes widened. So many bombshells in one evening. Ymir and Christa? Together? Thinking of it now, he wasn’t that surprised, but the sudden admittance of it caught him off guard. “Wow” is all he could muster before Marco tenderly put his head on his shoulder, making his face flush a light pink.
Seeing this, Ymir couldn’t help but grin. They were cute, and she unfortunately had to concede to that. “Well, I’m turning in for the night-” she began as Marco brought her in for a hug, interrupting her goodbyes.
“Thank you Ymir, really” he whispered. She patted his back. “Anytime man.” she concluded before breaking the hug to turn back. “Sleep tight!” she winked, and Marco looked back at a flushing Jean.
“How do you feel?” he questioned, unable to read Jean’s expression.
He ruffled Marco’s hair. “Good,” he said. “Really good”. He cupped Marco’s cheek and leaned in to meet his forehead. They breathed in the warmth of each other before pulling back, knowing they had to actually go back this time. “Meet me in my room, twenty minutes.” Jean hushed, and Marco bit his cheek.
“Fifteen” he quipped, jogging off to report their mission.
“Deal.”
#JeanMarco#jean kirschtein fanfiction#jean x marco#marco x jean#fluff#spicy#our second fic ever#please be nice#im scared#kissing#making out#hot n heavy#this went way longer than we thought#not the end lol
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[CN] victor’s double seventh/qixi date (eng)
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this translation was a whole trip mythological aus are the best 😭 for this date, because his name is important to the plot, I decided to keep it as his CN name, Li Zeyan!
all of the qixi translations this year were divided up by a small group of translators, and you can find them on their blogs: @cheri-translates did Gavin’s, @redqueenschoice did Shaw’s and Lucien’s (though they’re available on Cheri’s blog), @skyholders did Kiro’s, and of course, I did Victor’s!
—
Soldier A: Where did you go?
Soldier B: There is no other way, they must have run into the woods!
Officer A: Chase them!
The voices of the officers and soldiers faded away. I slowly rose from the riverbank and made sure there was no one around. Finally, after a while passed, I stood up straight and took a few deep breaths.
Gripping the peach wood sword in one hand, I carefully picked up my skirt and prepared to step ashore.
??: who are you?
MC: !
As soon as I was about to act, my arm was suddenly pulled tightly, and the sword in my hand almost fell.
I turned my head to see a man behind me squinting at me, and his expression became even more gloomy when he saw my sword. With horns on top of his head, and a tail behind him trailing up to my legs, he seemed to want to impede my actions…
??: This sword…
MC: D-Demon!
I yelled desperately to avoid him, but he was too strong, my attempts ultimately having no effect.
Soldier B: I heard her voice! Over there!
Hearing the voices of officers and soldiers coming from the fork of the mountain road, me and the “Youkai” in front of me were both stunned.
[youkai (妖怪) are a class of supernatural monsters in japanese folklore, and the term doesn’t translate to anything directly, but traditionally means demon or spirit]
I was suddenly reminded of the importance of keeping the peach sword. I didn’t know where I borrowed the strength from, but I broke free of his shackles and forced him back into the water.
MC: Demon, since you haven’t had time to eat me, I won't involve you… so, you hide here, I have to go first!
I picked up my skirt to run once again, but the soaked clothes had since become heavier, and I almost couldn’t even stand firm when I left the river. A very light sigh seemed to be heard behind me, and I was pulled back into the water by force, my back pressing against a warm chest.
MC: you--
“Youkai” ignored me, just casually glancing at the soldiers and officers passing by. I followed his gaze and saw that the vines on the edge of the cliff moved by themselves, entangling the ankles of the officers and soldiers and throwing them back onto the mountain road.
MC: You… be merciful. They are annoying, but not deserving of death.
??: They are not qualified to be killed by me.
As soon as the voice fell, the several officers and soldiers got up and stumbled away. I had just breathed a sigh of relief when the “Youkai” behind me refocused on me.
??: What crime did you commit?
MC: I didn’t commit any crime! I only got my belonging back, it’s those people who are wrong.
I hugged the sword in my arms angrily, and noticing his gaze on me, I immediately regained my bearings.
MC: well… thank you for helping me just now, but can you please not eat me?
??: Didn’t you dare to push me into the water?
He pointed to the peach wood sword in my arms.
??: Is that what opens the barrier?
Barrier?
I looked down thoughtfully. I once heard my father say that there is a kind of barrier that can seal away monsters, and only a peach wood sword stained with one’s blood can break open the entrance. Since more than ten years ago, outside the barrier is no longer home to monsters, but--
MC: could it be that you are… the Guardian Saint Black Dragon?
MC: it’s really a dragon horn… the scales on your tail are so shiny! And wow.. Your clothes are satin. Did you make it yourself?
[stop it mc you’re embarrassing the both of us ;;]
Black Dragon: …
I didn’t expect that I would meet the Guardian saint, and my curiosity was overwhelming, so I forgot how fierce he was just now. Just when I wanted to study his hair again, he suddenly grabbed my hand and pressed me firmly into the shore.
Black Dragon: Have you touched enough?
MC: um…
Black Dragon: You are also a criminal..
I caught his dangerous gaze and swallowed nervously. His gaze moved down my face and finally stopped on the peach wood sword.
Black Dragon: Open the barrier again.
MC: What?
Black Dragon: Open it, and I can count it as you making up for just now.
I don’t know what the consequences of letting the Guardian saint leave without authorisation is, but I still obey what I feel in my heart and nod in agreement. The Black Dragon released his hold on me, but he kept his eyes on me as I walked away, as if he didn’t trust me to honour my promise.
MC: Lord Guardian, do you dislike humans?
Black Dragon: I just don’t trust them.
MC: hmm…. Humans can be very cunning. Someone did you a favour today, and you may be asked to return the favour later.
Black Dragon: ...What do you want to say?
I watched his expression and carefully considered my words.
MC: Now that I’ve promised to open the barrier, I will not break that promise. But, you’ve also seen the situation just now. If I go back like this, I definitely will not be able to keep this sword.
Black Dragon: Is it important to you?
MC: Yeah… My family has been slaying monsters for generations, and this sword is our heirloom. A while ago, the owner of the Jianzhu Workshop stole it. I took it back, but it seems that I’ll have to hide in the future.
Black Dragon: You come from a family that eliminates monsters, so why are you still afraid of them?
I recalled the exaggerated reaction just now, and chuckled embarrassedly.
MC: Because in the ten years since you were locked away, the world has been very peaceful. We have become accustomed to a world without monsters.
MC: Suddenly seeing someone that’s so different from me, of course I’ll be shocked…
The Black Dragon raised his eyebrows without further comment.
MC: Why don’t we make an exchange! I will help you open the barrier, and you will help me settle the situation. This must not be difficult for you.
Black Dragon: This is the “favour” you want me to pay back?
MC: Yes. I will set the conditions right now as to raise the value in the future. This is an exchange where you can make profit without losing anything.
The Black Dragon was silent for a while, and finally nodded gently
Black Dragon: I can help you, but you must protect important things in the future. Additionally, I won’t help you a second time.
MC: I will! Thank you, Guardian Lord!
I took him down the path and into the city, brainstorming how to have him move around the city without obstacles.
MC: By the way, when we go into town, is it possible that you can hide the horns and tail?
Black Dragon: I can.
He lowered his eyes and blinked, and the dragon horns and tails disappeared.
MC: Ok…. I still need to know your name.
Black Dragon: You do not need to know.
MC: Then, how do you expect me to call you in the city? Are you still called the Guardian Saint?
Black Dragon: That’s not possible.
MC: Lord Black Dragon? Lord?
He frowned and stared at me, not seeming to like my options. I racked my brain to think of more titles, and he sighed, seeming to have come to a decision.
Black Dragon: My surname is Li.
--
In order to avoid the officers and soldiers who might reappear at any time, we were cautious all the way before finally returning home along the right path. However, just as I opened the door, the voice I didn’t want to hear sounded from behind me.
??: Yo, isn’t this that little robber? I didn’t expect to run into people not yet caught by the government today.
The owner of Jianzhu Workshop actually had a group of people wait by my house! I hurriedly hid the peach wood sword behind my back, and stepped forward to block the Black Dragon.
MC: You stole my things, and are so embarrassed that you want the government to arrest me?
Boss: No one saw me steal your things, but many people saw you steal things from my store. What are you going to do?
Most of the people behind him responded and began to surround me. I’m suddenly nervous and at a loss. But, then I see the Black Dragon standing beside me with his arms lifted slightly.
Those who came close seemed to hit an invisible wall, bumping one by one and falling backwards. No matter how many times they tried, they didn’t make any ground.
Boss: T-This is magic! You are monsters!
The group of people looked on at us in horror and kept backing away. The boss ushered them away disdainfully and drew his sword.
Boss: You turned out to have a monster as a helper, but don’t think that this will scare me!
After speaking, he flew forward and leaped, with the sharp tip of his sword barreling straight towards my face. I subconsciously closed my eyes, but the coolness of metal breaking through air did not come as expected.
I hesitated for a moment before slowly opening my eyes, and saw that the boss’s figure was stagnated in the air, and the tip of his sword had stopped less than three inches from my face. In the next second, he also bounced far away like his men had before him, and the sword fell on the ground with a crisp clang.
Boss: What kind of monster is this… cough cough… it’s so powerful.
I secretly glanced at the Black Dragon next to me. He still stood there quietly, as if he hadn’t paid attention to the scene just now.
The boss reluctantly stood up with his sword and walked towards us, but stopped halfway obediently under the gaze of the Black Dragon.
Boss: I can’t beat you anyway, so let’s be honest with each other. I want that sword to conquer the Black Dragon. You should have heard that legend, right? The peach wood sword that has eliminated a demon -- as long as it’s stained with the blood of the Guardian Saint, he will surrender to me.
Boss: Now that the sword is in your hands, as long as you agree to cooperate with me, I can give you a share of the reward as compensation.
MC: It’s too vain to do that!
Boss: Mankind has been eliminating demons for many years, isn’t this point of return justified?
The surrounding temperature seemed to drop suddenly, and I held my sword tighter.
MC: Don’t even think about it. Xiao Li, don’t listen to his nonsense. Let’s tie him up and send him to the government!
I yelled this with a strong momentum, but the fingers hidden under my sleeve secretly hooked onto the Black Dragon’s hand and shook, hoping that he would not mind the disrespectful name. He glanced at me unhappily, but still moved his fingers, making the owner unable to escape.
Seeing some onlookers appeared nearby, I pulled the Black Dragon back, wanting to end this farce as soon as possible.
MC: Everyone is watching. If you still want to keep the Jianzhu Workshop in business, you should move on quickly and forget the ideas you shouldn’t have.
Boss: ….
MC: If you don’t speak, I’ll assume that you agree.
Black Dragon: He is speechless now.
I was stunned for a moment, looking at the flushing boss. But I looked at the Black Dragon and suddenly understood. So, I cleared my throat and deliberately amplified the sound.
MC: Now that you’ve realised your mistakes, go to the government and confess your guilt honestly. As long as you are willing to tell the truth this time, I will not care too much. I believe that the government will give us a fair verdict.
--
After testifying with the government, I locked the door of my house and lit a fire in the corner of the yard. Since the Black Dragon was trapped behind the barrier here, many legends that do not tell the truth have emerged, gradually ranging from spreading his divine power to how to conquer him.
Many seniors believed that the peach wood sword would be abused by people with ulterior motives, so they wanted to destroy the sword. But, it used to be a glory in the family and it was a relic of my father’s. I have always cherished it very much and am not willing to destroy it.
Until now, I have not really realised how disturbing its existence is.
The wooden sword was thrown into the flame, and the flame seemed to have received my worry, and quickly rose to swallow it. I waited until the flame went out and I doused the embers before returning to the house.
The Black Dragon was not there, and the window facing the black dragon was open. I hurried to the window and heard a little noise coming from the pond.
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/2b9c6bade71d54d262aba07b4e4d0341/e4df3053d068144f-50/s540x810/8d2ae23a2f683ecb19c749321ae9a864fbbad6e5.jpg)
As soon as I slipped out, I saw the Black Dragon immersed in the pond water, seeming to be examining his own strength. The water around him seemed to diverge and gather, but only for a moment before it suddenly fell back into the pool, revealing his figure. He leaned casually on the bank, his slender fingers outstretched slightly.
The falling flowers on the water floated back onto the shore, embossed under the roots of the trees. The hanging water curtain not far away turned into layers of mist with his simple instruction, and fell onto the other branches with a crisp rustling noise.
For a while, I so surprised that I could hear nothing but the beating of my own heart in my chest.
This is… the strength that has always protected us.
In some kind of broad tenderness, this casual moment silenced the whole world.
He has a small wound on his body that is slowly bleeding, but he doesn’t seem to care. At this time, he had long faded away from his initial vigilance and suspicion, as if he had just found a comfortable place to nurse his fatigue.
Looking at this scene, I suddenly thought that if I had looked at his eyes more when we first met, I definitely wouldn’t have misunderstood his identity. Such a clear and quiet gaze could only belong to a truly powerful being.
Black Dragon: Don’t hide, come out.
MC: Sorry, I didn’t mean to peek on purpose… I thought you were gone.
Black Dragon: I am indeed ready to leave.
Hearing him say this, I felt a little reluctant.
Black Dragon: But I still have a question for you.
MC: What’s the problem?
Black Dragon: Why did you reject that person just now?
I was stunned for a moment, and then realised what he was referring to.
MC: ...The person stealing other people’s things is not credible, and I’m not interested in the conditions he offered. What’s more, is that the sword in my family has been used for generations to eliminate evil, and it cannot hurt a Guardian Saint who brings peace.
I couldn’t help but glance at his wound, and found a handkerchief in my pocket and handed it over.
MC: Why are you hurt?
He turned away slightly, his expression a little unnatural.
Black Dragon: The yard is too small and there are too many trees.
I looked at the small branches scattered around the pond and smirked internally. Naturally, this place can’t be compared with the vast forest. He obviously hasn’t adapted to the new area yet.
MC: Your blood seems to be very important, so wait for me to help you bandage it.
The Black Dragon looked at me, smiled lightly, and grabbed my wrist.
Black Dragon: The legend of the peach sword is false.
MC: What?
Black Dragon: Do you really want to hear more about it?
Looking into his smiling eyes, I almost lost my consciousness and nodded subconsciously. With a little force in his hand, he drew me closer, and the low voice sounded through my ears.
Black Dragon: The conditions that make me surrender never come from other things.
Black Dragon: You asked my name before. Do you know its true meaning?
--
Black Dragon: No way.
MC: I’m really fine!
Black Dragon: If I say no, it means no.
MC: But there is no other way. You’re a guest and a noble Guardian saint, I can't possibly let you sleep on the ground, right?
Black Dragon: …
Considering that the Guardian Saint was injured in my home, I warmly invited him to stay overnight, and he gave me the chance “to make up for the past”. I had taken the initiative to bandage the wound and make dinner for him, but after a smooth night, I suddenly hit a wall in sleeping.
I forgot that my cabin has limited space and only one bed. So, I was going to sleep on the floor, but he didn’t allow it. I had forgotten about the possibility of sleeping in the same bed, so, after thinking about it, I carried the quilt on the ground onto the bed.
Ignoring his surprised gaze, I first climbed into the innermost side of the bed, turned my back to him and patted the empty space behind me.
MC: If nothing else, I sleep very soundly!
I eavesdropped on the man behind me, and after a long silence, I finally heard the sound of the quilt being lifted once again.
The night was still deep, but we laid still for a long time. I still couldn’t sleep. Though, I still remember what he said to me by the pond--
Black Dragon: Names are a curse.
MC: Lord Guardian, are you asleep?
Black Dragon: ...Not yet.
MC: I have a question. Since the name is a kind of curse, many people usually call me, so why didn’t I feel it?
Black Dragon: Because you are all ordinary people.
MC: Is that right…
My curiosity flared up again.
MC: Lord Guardian, my name is ___. Since I am called ordinary, can I ask the unusual Guardian saint to recite it?
I waited for a long time, and the person behind me didn’t respond, as if he didn’t want to acknowledge my whim. I was beginning to grow restless, so I tightened the quilt corner and leaned against the bed.
Black Dragon: Li Zeyan.
MC: ...What?
Li Zeyan: My name. Go to bed now and you’ll still remember it.
MC: !
MC: Did you really just tell me that? Is it okay to?
Li Zeyan: ...If you dare not accept it, I can make you forget now.
MC: Wait, wait! I accept! But, if this isn’t a mantra, does it matter if i recite it?
Li Zeyan: You can give it a try.
MC: ..Li Zeyan
Li Zeyan: Good.
Li Zeyan responded reluctantly and put out the candle. I waited for a while, and it was quiet behind me, as if nothing happened. I’ve been so overwhelmed by the excitement of knowing his name that even in the dark, I'm not willing to close my eyes.
MC: Li Zeyan?
My answer was another stretch of silence.
I grabbed the quilt, and an uncontrollable impulse that could no longer be subdued was relieved through the curling of my lips. So, my brain began whirring and three words suddenly came out.
[she says three words because Victor’s chinese name, Li Zeyan, is characterised like this: 李泽言]
MC: Li Zeyan.
As soon as I was finished speaking, I felt that the bed next to me suddenly sank, my shoulder was caught, and I was pulled over. Before I could even utter an exclamation, I met Li Zeyan’s close face.
Li Zeyan: What are you trying to do?
It seems that every time I get close to him, I can’t think, I can only let the thoughts in my head slip to my lips.
MC: I just think your name sounds nice. I wanted to say again.
Li Zeyan seemed to be taken aback, and his hand holding me loosened.
Li Zeyan: Have you said it enough now? Shut up and sleep when you’ve had enough.
MC: But, I still want to hear you say my name. You know, everything must be exchanged in the human world, and I will sleep only when you say it.
Li Zeyan had probably never heard of such a request before and stopped talking, seeming to be judging if I was joking or not. Seeing that I still met his gaze firmly, he spoke word from word after all.
Li Zeyan: ___.
MC: !
I immediately covered my face, detached from his arm, and retreated to the other side of the bed.
MC: I-I promise to stop talking! I’ll sleep now!
Li Zeyan: ……
However, even when the room was quiet again, my noisy heartbeat did not calm down. Is this the so-called “curse”? This curse is really powerful. No no, it’s the “unusual” Guardian saint that is the most powerful.
I sigh quietly. It seems that I won’t be able to sleep tonight.
The next day, I woke up amidst a strange noise. I opened the window and looked out at the situation on the street. After recalling the day, I remembered that the Qixi festival has arrived.
I turned my head and looked at the other side of the bed: it was empty.
I quickly cleaned myself up and opened the door. I saw Li Zeyan leaning against the door and looking in the direction of the main street.
MC: Good morning.... Li Zeyan.
Li Zeyan glanced at me, and nodded stiffly to communicate a response.
Li Zeyan: Why is it so noisy outside?
I looked at the hint of curiosity in his eyes and suggested with a smile.
MC: If you’re interested, do you wanna go out with me?
The Qixi Festival has always been the most lively summer festival. Stalls have been set up early on the main street to sell all kinds of novel and interesting gadgets. I chose a booth at random and took him over to see it.
MC: Look, it’s a black dragon puppet!
The puppet was dressed in a colorful cloak, and the dragon’s horns and tail were swollen with cotton. I snuck a look at Li Zeyan, and he immediately frowned in disgust.
Li Zeyan: Too exaggerated. There’s no need to look like that.
MC: But it looks so cute!
Li Zeyan: ...Do you like it?
I was thinking about how to respond to the Guardian saint’s question, when the stall owner leaned over with a smile.
Stall Owner: The girl has a good eye! I bought this black dragon puppet from a temple of incense. Buying it back will surely protect both of you. For today’s holiday, if you each buy one, the price is discounted! Son, what do you think?
Li Zeyan: I don’t need it.
I took a peek at him, smiled and put down the puppet, then raised my arm and shook it indifferently.
MC: I don’t need it either.
I have been favoured by fate, so I can at least leave the puppets to others.
I don’t know if it’s my illusion, but Li Zeyan seemed to slow down and walk with me patiently. I guess he must have rarely had such a talkative moment during the long years he spent in the forest.
I secretly made up my mind to take him today to experience the “world fireworks”.
[it was never explicitly stated, but I’m guessing that this refers to the tradition of kongming lanterns mentioned soon.]
In the long main streets, through countless shops and stalls, we stop and try our best to spend this special day seriously. I imagined the Guardian saint who was aloof, but I was so entranced that I didn’t even dare blink my eyes, and together we studied the mysteries of the street performers
He still occasionally resents helplessness, but unexpectedly does not refuse assistance. Perhaps because of the smoke and fire, I almost forgot his original identity.
Time passed by, and the end of the main street was already in front of me. A small river transverses, and there are already many people piercing Kongming lanterns on both sides of the river
Li Zeyan: What’s the purpose of this?
MC: It’s a paper lantern to make wishes on. It rises into the sky after you light the inside of it. People write their wishes on the lamps, and the gods in sky will see it and may even help realise it.
Li Zeyan: How can there be such a thing?
MC: Today is the Qixi Festival, you can’t say such things! If it’s heard by the seventh sister in the sky, it will be bad.
Li Zeyan: ...what wishes do you generally make?
MC: On the Qixi Festival, everyone will wish for a good hand or a good marriage.
Li Zeyan: what about you?
MC: I…
I looked at a few pairs of lovers not too far away, and silently lowered my head. If you desire too much, than what’s the difference between me and those who want to imprison the Guardian saint?
But, perceiving Li Zeyan’s gaze on me, I cheered up and decided to answer the question in another way.
MC: Right, tonight, I want to see the stars, so I’ll take you to a good place to see them!
The pavilion at the foot of the mountain is part of a summer resort that I accidentally discovered when I was young. Now that the area is kept dense, the water is as clear as a mirror. The mountain breeze in the evening is very cool, blowing away all the heat of the day.
Li Zeyan leaned in the pavilion, looking at the distance with a relaxed expression.
MC: Is the Guardian Saint satisfied with this place?
Li Zeyan: well, it’s not bad.
MC: No one else will come here, so you can relax.
Li Zeyan seemed to have seen through the words as I was expecting, and showed a pair of beautiful dragon horns and a tail.
MC: I wanted to say it the first time I saw you, but, you’re really good looking.
Li Zeyan: In your imagination, was I ugly?
MC: Um… I was only expecting you to be more fierce.
Li Zeyan: And i did not expect that the one to open the barrier would be a reckless “bandit”.
I turned my head angrily, but I saw the smile at the corner of his mouth at a glance, and the feeling of dissatisfaction disappeared immediately.
I handed Li Zeyan a small purse I'd been holding in my arms.
MC: Just in case, I decided to prepare you something.
Li Zeyan took it and opened it, holding up a small peach wood sword pendant.
MC: Even though it’s small, it has the same effect as the original sword!
Li Zeyan: ...Didn’t you burn the sword?
MC: I secretly broke off a piece of the hilt of the sword, I think my father would not mind. But, if you ever encounter the barrier in the future, you can walk out by yourself.
Li Zeyan: “Self?” Where are you going?
MC: You definitely don’t want to stay in this world, do you? I couldn’t even go to heaven with you.
Li Zeyan: You don’t have to go so far. The freedom I want has nothing to do with where I am.
MC: But, you said yesterday that you were ready to leave… Are you going to another town?
Li Zeyan looked at the pendant and pondered a moment before speaking.
Li Zeyan: The forest is very large… but it’s not as good as a small yard.
Li Zeyan: No matter whether it is man or a god, there are no taboos, but it depends on whether that restriction is actively being accepted by itself. The spell of that name is a lock, and only those who know it can open it.
Li Zeyan: Just now, I've put the lock and key into your hands. So, I must keep you by my side.
I stared at him with a serious look, and it took a long time to find my voice.
MC: My home is so small... You will either get hurt or you will not sleep well...
MC: I can’t accompany you to heaven, but I can go with you anywhere else in the world. Because you know my name, I also want to keep you by my side.
He laughed at me, hooked his finger at me, and I leaned in faintly.
Li Zeyan: In this case, I’ll leave this on you.
With warm fingertips around my neck, he put the pendant on me. I stretched out my hand to caress the small pendant, and my heart was filled with wonder. I have no supernatural power, nor have I learned to kill demons and eliminate evil. Only this little peach wood sword and myself, who keeps the secret, will become his keys together.
I pulled out a comb from the side drawer and handed it to him.
MC: According to human rules, to make such an important agreement, you have to help me comb my hair.
Li Zeyan hesitated and took the comb suspiciously.
Li Zeyan: I have never brushed anyone’s hair before…
MC: You will live in this world in the future, so you can learn more.
Li Zeyan: Why are there so many rules?
MC: This is how humans are.
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/8c74b6b04df84b52082c060e8cc51b5e/e4df3053d068144f-40/s540x810/b14bd4145737593878e1e2b2cd7fc3ae5b20fba1.jpg)
In order to reduce the difficulty, I took the initiative to lift up a strand of hair
MC: Comb this strand, and it will be done after three times.
Li Zeyan: Why?
I held back my smile and tried to find excuses for my careful thinking.
MC: Hmm… Because this way, the agreement will last longer.
A helpless sigh was heard from behind me, but he still continued. The movements were very slow and light, and he took care to not hurt me at all. Time seemed to stop in this moment, and at the same time, lovers of heaven and earth meet.
I leaned on his lap and peaked at the reflection in the water: he’s clearly smiling.
As the night darkened, a Kongming lantern suddenly floated in the distance. Orange lights gradually revealed themselves in the night sky, like stars symbolising wishes.
MC: What a nice view...
Li Zeyan retracted his eyes from the sky and looked at me.
Li Zeyan: I remember that you haven’t said your wish.
I stroked his hand holding the comb and combed the hair to the bottom with him.
“Three combs to the end, will tie two hearts together forever.”
The night breeze is cool, bringing the wishes of the world to the sky. And there is still a wish, turning into a quiet whisper before falling into someone’s ear. The person who receives this wish is my destination.
#mlqc#mr love queen’s choice#mlqc cn#mlqc spoilers#mlqc victor#spoilers#mr love queen’s choice victor#otome#it won’t let me edit this post on mobile and I can’t fix the cg placing on my laptop :-;
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See The Fire In Your Eyes (Chapter 4)
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Summary: Catherine Hays grew up in a picture-perfect, high society family in Virginia. She had her whole life planned out for her and was about to get married to a man she could not stand. When her brother uncovers a murder plot and has to pay with his own life, Catherine decides she can’t continue playing along. She takes control of her own destiny and goes south to a pretty little town called Blackwater.
Warnings: Swearing, Canon-typical violence, Kidnapping
Chapter 4 - Misadventures In Mail Delivery
It had been about two weeks or so since the incident with the stagecoach, and Catherine had definitely been keeping busy around camp. Mrs. Grimshaw quickly put her to work with the laundry, dishes, and assisting Pearson with the stew preparation. Adjusting to the life of an outlaw was a slow and strange process, especially after never having to do regular chores prior her entire life, but it was starting to feel normal. She even picked up new skills and hobbies that she enjoyed, like sewing, despite how many times she pricked herself while Tilly taught her the basics.
Catherine awoke to a particularly chilly morning and quickly got dressed in an effort to block out the cold air. A simple long-sleeved maroon shirt and a pair of black jeans, that she actually preferred over skirts after wearing them so often, accompanied her riding boots. She ran a brush through her tangled hair, taking time to pay special attention to a stubborn knot in the back, before putting it in a simple plait.
As she exited her small tent she raised her arms up and stretched, groaning a bit when her lower back popped a bit. Like every morning, she made a beeline to the fire and grabbed a cup of coffee.
Hosea called her over to the table he was currently sat at. “Would you mind taking a ride into town to pick up the mail?”
She gave a quick nod at him before downing the rest of her coffee. “Of course! What do we need?”
“Mrs. Grimshaw ordered some clothes and there are probably some letters for Dutch and myself.”
“Sounds good. I’ll get a move on now.” They shared a smile before Hosea returned his attention to the book in his lap and Catherine headed back to her tent. She grabbed the dark blue jacket that was slung on top of her clothing trunk before walking over to where Arthur, John, and Lenny were standing and enjoying their coffee. “Morning fellas,” she said with a warm smile as she pulled the jacket on.
The group replied with their own nods and small ‘morning’s of acknowledgement before she spoke up again. “Well I’m heading into town to grab the mail, any of you need me to pick up somethin’ from the store?”
Arthur spoke up first. “A pack of cigarettes would be nice.”
~~~~~
She looked between the other two as they just shook their heads. “Can do, Mr. Morgan. I should be back in an hour or so.”
The ride into town went smoothly as always. Catherine passed only a few people on the road, as the sun was still just over the horizon, and stopped at the post office first. She collected everything they needed, a stack of letters addressed to the ringleaders of the gang and a package for Miss Grimshaw. She securely strapped the package to the back of her horse before slipping the letters into the saddlebags and walking to the general store.
Catherine made a quick lap around the store, picking up Arthur’s request as well as a can of peaches for herself and some candies for Jack. As she stood at the counter to pay she felt someone staring at her and quickly looked around the store before taking note of the man paying a little too much attention to the box of biscuits in his hand. She passed the clerk a few bills before gathering her things and returning to her horse.
As she was putting the things into the saddlebags, that same looming presence of someone watching made itself known once again. Catherine quickly slipped the cigarettes and chocolate bar into the inner pocket of her jacket before she mounted and spurred her horse into a gallop to get out of town as fast as possible. When she was barely half a mile out of town the sound of steady hooves following her seemed to grow louder with each passing moment. She spared them a quick glance over her shoulder before turning off of the road and into the thick forest of Tall Trees.
Her mare protested every time she was spurred on to keep up her pace, but the stead never once slowed down. Catherine ducked and weaved through low hanging branches, keeping a hand held out in front of her face to avoid any collisions.
The sound of hooves only faded for a moment as she ducked into the forest before reappearing almost twice as loud. A small “shit!” escaped her lips as the sound of hooves and the edge of Tall Trees grew closer.
Catherine failed to realize that she was nearing a small cliff and, before she could slow down, her horse slid down the slope uncontrollably. Her mare began to freak out, frantically trying to regain its footing on the loose dirt and rocks, and bucked her off in the process. She fell to the ground with a hard thud, pain in her chest and the air fully gone from her lungs.
Between ragged breaths as she lay on the ground, trying to regain her breathing, she noticed the sounds of hooves had stopped and steady footsteps crunching leaves began to approach her. She tried to reach for her pistol but one of the men shot a bullet next to her head, obviously missing on purpose.
“The boss is gonna be very happy about this,” the other man chucked. The last thing she saw was her mare sprinting off in the direction of camp before the butt of a rifle knocked her out cold.
~~~~~
“Hey, Lenny!” Arthur called to the man on guard duty as he walked towards his horse. “Has Miss Hays gotten back yet?”
He adjusted the rifle in his hand as he turned to look back at the man behind him. “No, I haven’t seen her.”
“Damn, I could use that pack of cigarettes she promised.” No sooner than the words left his mouth did the steady gallop of hooves start to approach the camp. The two men looked towards the sound expecting to see the woman they were just discussing, but were met with her dark brown mare barreling down the path. Arthur, wasting no time at all, instinctively put his hands up to slow the horse and grab the reins. He calmed her down enough that she stopped moving, though she was still shaking her head and huffing from the unfamiliar contact.
The two men shared a glance before Lenny spoke up. “Well,” he exhaled. “This ain’t good.”
~~~~~
The world was a haze around Catherine as she started to come to her senses. The room she was in was mostly dark, with a small stream of light peeking in from the torn curtain. She blinked a few times to get her eyes adjusted to the space around her. It was a small room, with a mattress pushed against the opposite corner of the room and a table covered in playing cards and empty cigarette cartons next to her.
Her mouth was dry and tasted like metal. Her vision was still blurry from the darkness, but she could still tell her eyes were very swollen. Despite her whole body screaming and protesting against her, she tried to move. Her muscles ached against the rope tied around her hands and legs.
She stopped struggling when a male voice spoke up outside. “How much longer do we have to be in this shithole?”
Another man replied, “Another day or two, probably. Just waiting on Calvin to send word for us to send her back.”
She felt her stomach churn. Of course he was behind this.
The door to the cabin swung open and she could vaguely make out the shape of a man walking towards her. “Look who’s awake, boys!” As he walked closer she recognized the figure to be the man that shot at her earlier.
“I’d rather die than go back to that rat,” she spat, struggling against the ropes.
The man laughed and crouched down next to her. “As much as I would love to make that happen,” he said with a smile. “I’m afraid Mr. Foster specifically requested you be returned alive so he could decide exactly what to do with you.” He lifted up a hand to her cheek, stroking the soft skin with his thumb. God , she wanted to throw up. Or punch him in the face. “Pity though, that he gets to have all the fun with you. I bet you’d make a very-”
Before he could continue she moved her face to the right towards his hand and bit down hand, directly at the base of his thumb. He yanked his hand back and grabbed it, making sure that he wasn’t bleeding. Catherine looked at him with fire in her eyes and he returned the gaze with pure anger. “You bitch!!” he yelled, using his opposite hand to slap her across the face. Her head went back and hit off the hardwood of the wall behind her, a yelp of pain escaping her lips. The world started to spin around her and her vision started to get hazy. She vaguely heard the man spew some string of curse words at her before she blacked out.
~~~~~
The second time she woke was to gunfire outside of the small cabin. The men that captured her were not only yelling a lot between each other, but she had a feeling that they were losing the fight as well.
“Check inside, we’ll keep watch out here,” a distant voice said. It sounded hazy and muffled as it broke through the ringing of her ears.
The door to the house opened and she tightly shut her eyes from the heavy moonlight. After a moment she opened them to see a figure approaching her, to which she instinctively curled her bruised body further into a ball. Her figure shook violently from fear and the cold air surrounding her.
“Hey, s’okay. I ain’t gon’ hurt ya.” the figure spoke up in a soft tone. The voice was deep and gravelly but also gentle. One that felt familiar and safe.
She looked up with tears in her half-lidded eyes and said, “Arthur?” Her voice was weak and sounded almost like a wheeze.
“Shhh, it’s alright. We’re gon’ getcha outta here.” He carefully cut the ropes on her arms and hands. “Can ya walk?” When Catherine slowly shook her head Arthur bent down to slide his arms under her legs and behind her back. He hoisted her body up- to which she let out a loud cry of pain- and walked back out of the small cabin, careful to not hit her against the doorframe. She rested her head against his chest as they walked to try and stop the world from spinning around her.
For the first time in what was probably days she felt safe.
“Take her back to camp,” another voice spoke up. “We’ll stay back for a bit and make sure no one is left.” Arthur sat her on the front of his horse’s saddle and carefully got in behind her to assure she wouldn’t fall during the ride.
As they rode off back towards camp Catherine kept her head propped up against Arthur’s chest with her eyes closed, desperately trying to ignore the aching pain her body felt as the horse galloped. Her right hand clutched the front of his shirt, her legs dangling over the side of the horse, and a few stray tears leaked out of her eyes.
“Well be back soon, just stay with me.” She felt his chest rumble against her head as he spoke and groaned out in pain, to which he instinctively wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “I know it hurts but we’ll be back soon.”
She started to feel lightheaded and groggy. Using the last of her strength, Catherine opened her puffy eyes and looked up at Arthur. “Wasn’t.. O’Driscolls,” she murmured, voice nearly giving out at the end.
The last thing she heard was Arthur’s confused “What?” before her field of view was swallowed into blackness and she slipped out of consciousness again.
~~~~~
Catherine didn’t remember much of what happened after that. She remembered a lot of yelling, people rushing around, and what she thinks was Arthur and Lenny talking. When she was finally fully conscious she woke up to a very dry mouth and almost every part of her body in pain. She looked at her surroundings and realized she was back at camp, in her tent, with Hosea reading a book beside her cot. Upon noticing her awake he smiled and shut the book, and reaching for a cup of water he had resting on the crate next to her.
“Good to see you awake, Catherine.” He helped her lean up and drink, reminding her to go slow and breathe so she didn’t choke. “You gave us all quite the scare.”
Before she could reply the flap to her tent was opened and Arthur’s familiar hat peaked in. “Glad to see you’re up.”
She felt the corner of her mouth turn up in a light smile at his voice. Hosea waved Arthur in and stood before saying, “I’ll let you catch her up on everything, but make sure she eats something and gets a lot of rest.” He gave Arthur a pat on the arm before leaving and closing the tent’s canvas.
“How..” she started, struggling to speak as her throat was still sore and voice was almost gone. “How long was I out?”
Arthur sat down in the chair next to her and leaned back. “A few days. You’ve been in and out a couple times, but never as aware as ya’ are now. Hell, Reverend was considerin’ reading you yer last rights last time you were conscious.” They shared a chuckle at the thought before Arthur continued. “Took a hell of a beating back there but at least Miss Grimshaw will go easy on you for a while.”
Arthur looked at her for a second and took in her features. “Do you have any idea who those men were? ‘Cause you said they ain’t O’Driscolls when we were coming back to camp.”
She let out a sigh. “Yeah, I do.” Her gaze shifted from him to the canvas covering the top of the tent. “Calvin sent them. The man I was supposed to marry.”
He looked down at his feet and nodded, before looking back up at her a moment later. “I’m guessing he’s not too happy you left your old life?”
Catherine’s eyes returned to the man next to her. “Not at all.” She swallowed the lump in her throat and looked down at her hands, her thumbs fidgeting together in her lap. “I’m sorry you have to deal with this. I didn’t want to get you all wrapped into more problems than you already have.”
Arthur leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees. “Catherine,” he said with a sincere tone, “You’re a part of this gang now, which makes you family. And as a family one person’s problems become a concern for all of us. If this son of a bitch shows his face again we’ll take care of it.”
She smiled at the sincerity of his words, tears threatening her eyes. The two sat in silence for a moment, enjoying each other’s company before a thought popped into her head. “Oh!” she said suddenly. “Is my horse alright?”
Arthur chuckled at her concern. “She’s perfectly fine. An hour or two after you left she showed back up at camp without you, so me and Lenny figured you were in trouble. Real smart girl you got there, seeing as she was able to bring herself all the way back to camp on her own.”
Catherine smiled at the good news. “Thank god she’s alright.” Her eyes drifted to the trunk on the floor next to Arthur’s chair and she spotted her jacket laying on top of it. “Arthur, could you grab my jacket for me?” She gestured with her right hand to where it lay and he picked it up before gently laying it on the bed next to her. “Before I forget,” she said with a smirk as she reached into the pocket on the inner lining. “You might be wanting these.” She handed over the, now slightly squashed, pack of cigarettes to him.
He laughed as he accepted the gift, having nearly forgotten that he even asked for them. “Thank you very much, Miss Hays.”
“Consider it payment for rescuing me from my captors.”
#myworks#writing#text#stfiye#my posts#red dead#rdr2#arthur morgan#catherine hays#arthur morgan x reader#arthur morgan x you#arthur morgan x original character#arthur morgan imagine#arthur morgan imagines#arthur morgan x female reader#red dead redemption#red dead redemption 2#red dead redemption fan fiction#games#red dead online#arthur morgan reader insert
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@cinn-a-mom here’s my part of the trade!! I hope you enjoy it!! (And thank you again for that beautiful Letter to the Refuge animatic!)
Broken Pieces
“Hairstripe! Hurry up, you slow poke!”
Hugo runs through Old Corona village, Varian trailing behind him carrying as much glassware as he possible can.
He tediously walks, one step at a time, trying his hardest not to drop any.
“Well...may-maybe you could give me a hand instead of, you know, yelling at me!” The glassware pile says from behind Hugo.
Oh wait, that’s Varian.
The beakers and vials begin to teeter over in the alchemist’s hands and almost hit the ground before Hugo swoops in and grabs half of the pile.
“Oh. There you are Hairstripe! You’re so short I couldn’t even see you behind all this stuff!” Hugo jokes with a smug smile.
Varian rolls his eyes, “Shut up, heh.”
He looks at the situation they had gotten themselves into with a small frown.
“Heh. Note to self...next-next time we definitely have to bring dad’s wheelbarrow when we buy glassware, heh.”
He almost drops a vial but steadies himself and continues walking.
“Yeah, no kidding. Though we wouldn’t need so much if someone didn’t blow everything up every two minutes,” Hugo remarks snidely.
“Hey! The last time was with your compound!” Varian fires back.
Hugo opens his mouth briefly, but remembers Varian is indeed correct.
“Touché...” he grumbles.
The two continue walking until they finally pass the marketplace. It’s only a couple more blocks to their house. They can make it without breaking any beakers, right?
Suddenly, a loud crash resulting from a broken flask causes Varian to whip his head around to face Hugo.
“Heh, now who’s-“
The alchemist immediately cuts himself off when he sees the boys’ biggest nemeses walking towards them: Hunter and Curtis.
Hunter is taller than Varian, but a lot shorter than Hugo. His brunette bangs swoop in front of his eyes on the left side of his face, covering one of his hazel eyes. Hunter’s father is a close friend of Quirin, and Varian has known the boy since they were kids. Only recently did he team up with Curtis when Varian exploded the town yet again. Curtis, a fiery red-head with a temper to match acts as the brains of the team while Hunter acts as the brawn. The two have been tormenting the brothers for about a month now, practically every time they leave the house.
“Right on cue...” Hugo whispers as he kicks away the glass.
Hunter is the cause of broken flask, and he stands there blocking the Hugo’s path along with his partner in crime.
“If it isn’t the Old Corona Menace and his assistant...” Curtis mocks, moving to block Varian’s path directly.
Hugo isn’t one for conflict, but he doesn’t like anyone insulting Varian either. And he especially hates that nickname that the village generously bestowed on his brother. He’d gladly take the fall for that one. He shakily delivers a snide comment.
“Oh, come-come on, fellas! You really need to step up your game on the insulting nicknames! I mean, Hairstripe may not look like much at first glance but he’s no assistant-“
Hunter laughs cynically and steps closer to Hugo. The brunette boy is significantly shorter than the blond, but he still intimidates Hugo enough to make him back up.
“You’re the assistant.”
Hugo stiffens slightly and gulps as Hunter gives him a shove, shaking him up and causing another test tube to crash to the ground.
Varian narrows his eyes at Hunter and grits his teeth. He’s heard the “Old Corona Menace” nickname multiple times before. He deserves it, but Hugo? Hugo should be allowed to have a better reputation.
“Sorry, what-what did you say to him?” Varian asks slowly.
Hunter starts to walk away from Hugo but Curtis stops him, enclosing in further on Varian.
“You heard him. That weakling orphan you call a ‘brother’ is just adding to our problem.”
“Yeah and that’s you Vari-jerk!” Hunter speaks up.
Hugo rolls his eyes and scoffs.
“Oh come on, that’s not even clever,” he voices under his breath.
“Shut it, Huge-o!” Hunter yells, trying to regain his ego.
Hugo resists the urge to roll his eyes again in fear of being beat up. Hunter may be shorter than him, but he and Curtis together can do a lot of damage. Especially considering the heaps of fragile and dangerous glassware that the alchemists were carrying.
“Listen, guys, we have a lot on our hands right now, literally,” Hugo puns. “So, maybe we can move our weekly bullying session over a day?”
He starts sweating nervously and backs up more when Hunter smirks at him, drawing even closer than before.
“Uh, or-or a month?”
A cynical laugh on Varian’s side causes Hugo to shift his focus away from Hunter.
“No this is a great time,” Curtis replies mockingly as he snatches up one of the flasks on top of Varian’s pile.
“Heh, uh, please don’t touch that...” Varian asks, trying to bottle up and distract from the anger he feels.
Curtis looks it over and tosses it back in forth in his hands.
“What is this anyway? Some kind of jar for your magical spells?”
Varian corrects him, just like he does everyone else. Even if this time it’s a little more strained.
“Heh..technically it’s not magic, it’s alchemy, and-and that’s actually a-“
Curtis drops the flask on the ground before Varian can finish, and it shatters into a million pieces.
“Ugh you’re such a nerd. Both of you. Let me let you in on something: no one cares about your sorcery-“
“Alchemy.” Hugo speaks up under his breath, but unfortunately Hunter hears him. He rolls up his sleeve, jumps up, and punches Hugo straight in the face.
The blow is so unexpected and so forceful that it causes him to stagger back. He drops all the glassware and it shatters around his feet. Hugo holds his injured cheek which most likely contains a bruise.
“Just another one for the collection...” he whispers, trying to stay strong.
“Maybe that’ll teach you to keep your mouth shut, Huge-o. You should have just stayed an orphan. You’re more of a nothing now than you were before.”
Hugo tries to keep in his tears, but Curtis’s words cut deep. He simply looks up at the boy with hurt and angry eyes.
“Awe. You gonna cry?” Hunter taunts, glancing kicking some of the glass in Hugo’s direction.
Varian stays silent through this whole exchange...but livid. His eye begins to twitch as his grip on the glassware tightens, causing some of the beakers he’s holding start to crack from the pressure.
“Whatever you call it, we’re tired of you morons blowing up our town! And if we get all your magic stuff out of the way...” Hunter moves over to Varian and grabs two test tubes from his pile, smashing them both to the ground.
Curtis crosses over to Hugo who’s still holding his injured cheek. The red-head threateningly stalks closer and hits the inside of his hand with his fist.
Varian can’t hold it in anymore and he throws down all of the glassware he’s holding. The sound of the glass shattering causes both bullies to stare straight at him.
“Don’t you dare touch my brother again,” he warns between gritted teeth.
Curtis and Hunter glance at each other nervously for a moment. After all, this is the kid who blew up their entire village only a month prior. Both of their houses were damaged in the explosion. There’s no telling what the “dangerous wizard” could do to them.
“Hairstripe, don’t-“
The desperation in Hugo’s voice seems to push Curtis on, even though he’s still wary of Varian.
“Wha-what are you gonna do? Explode us?” Curtis asks with a nervous laugh.
His comment gives Varian an idea and he readies a smoke bomb from his pocket.
He glances to Hugo behind him and backs up.
“Come on, Vari-jerk! Show us what you got!” Hunter chimes in.
Curtis shoots him a look. As far as they knew, Varian could kill them if they weren’t careful. However, this doesn’t stop the bullies from cornering the alchemy brothers anyway, their fists dangerously close to the alchemists’ faces.
At the last second, Varian gives Hugo a short nod and throws his purple smoke bomb on the ground. Before it hits, the brothers sprint away as fast as they can, leaving their attackers coughing and surrounded in smoke.
The two run all the way back to their house, stopping right outside of the farm to catch their breaths.
“Varian...the glassware-“
The alchemist cuts him off, still angry at the bullies.
“Hugo, I could care less about the glassware. We can buy more...eventually...”
He trails off, knowing it won’t be any time soon. They were in danger every time they left their house. He sighs and continues voicing his grievances.
“But Curtis and Hunter have-have been tormenting us for too long. I couldn’t just stand there and do nothing!”
Hugo rubs his cheek, his fingers hitting an old bruise next to his fresh one. Varian sees him wince in pain, and furrows his own eyebrows.
“We-we’re telling dad what happened.” He states matter-of-factly as he marches towards the house. “He’s the village leader, for Demanitus sake! He-he can do something-“
Hugo catches up with Varian and stands in front of him. The last thing he wants right now is to cause more problems for his family...
“No, Hairstripe. I’ll just say it was another acid burn...if he asks.”
“But Hugo-“
The blond calmly cuts him off again.
“There’s no reason to get them into more trouble. I mean we already destroyed their houses, which they won’t let us live down...”
Varian starts to raise his voice, not understanding why Hugo doesn’t agree with him on this.
“Hugo, that-that was my invention. You had nothing to do with it. But Hunter hit you! Twice in the last week! And the things Curtis said were...were inexcusable! Don’t-don’t you think they deserve some form of punishment?”
Hugo notes Varian’s tone; he sounds actually...angry. And when Varian was angry, the only smart thing to do is to listen. Hugo carefully considers his brother’s words. Even though Quirin adopted him years ago, it still feels weird to have people standing up for him. Almost as if he didn’t deserve it.
“Maybe...” he trails off.
But what would happen after the boys were punished? The bullying wouldn’t stop, that’s for sure. Everyone in the town already hates them. If Curtis and Hunter were taken down, there would surely be others to take their place, most likely targeting Varian. Hugo couldn’t take that chance. He could deal with a couple dumb bullies for his brother’s sake.
Hugo takes a breath and shrugs, standing up straighter to show he’s okay.
“But it’s just a bruise! Plus Hunter’s punches are wimpy anyway. Same with his nicknames,” the blond jokes.
Varian’s intense glare softens and he chuckles slightly.
“Yeah those nicknames are pretty dumb, heh. I mean ‘Huge-o?’ Really?”
Hugo smiles, glad that he successfully changed the subject.
“And ‘Vari-jerk?’ That’s Vari-insulting to many other Vari-interesting words that flow seamlessly with your name.”
Varian rolls his eyes but ends up laughing. He can always count on Hugo to cheer him up. Even if it’s with dumb puns. But that doesn’t erase that matter at hand.
“Are you sure, though? About keeping it a secret again?” The alchemist asks, hoping for a different response.
Hugo’s face falls, Varian isn’t going to let this go so easily, but he can still try to avoid the subject as long as possible.
“Yeah. I’m sure.” Hugo stays serious for a moment before his tone flips back to joking.
“Plus I’m sure you already scared them silly with that smoke bomb stunt.” He elbows Varian in camaraderie and the alchemist returns the gesture.
“Well they literally asked for it! And you can’t say they didn’t deserve it, heh.”
Hugo shrugs in agreement and the two walk a bit further to the door. Varian starts to walk in when Hugo stops him by putting a hand on his shoulder.
“Hairstripe...Varian. I don’t say this enough but...thank you for sticking up for me. It means a lot,” he tells his brother sincerely with a slight smile between the pain of his bruise.
Varian is slightly surprised at this out of the blue gratitude from Hugo, but smiles back and shrugs nonchalantly.
“Of course, Hugo. That’s what brothers are for, you know? We stick together,” he tells him, bumping him on the arm.
Hugo rolls his eyes but still maintains his smile. This is getting a bit too sappy for him, even though he secretly enjoys the affection. He tries to change the subject again.
“Ha, yeah. So much so that I’m apparently your ‘assistant.’”
He smirks, elbowing Varian again.
“I thought that was Cassie’s job!”
Varian immediately turns red and elbows Hugo.
“GAH! H-hey-shut up!” He retorts.
Their little episode at the expo is not one to forget. And Hugo will never let him live down the “Cassandrium” incident. Luckily, they both know he’s joking. Hugo’s comments aren’t painful or cutting like Curtis’s, just mildly annoying. But Varian wouldn’t change it for the world.
The two stand in an awkward silence for a while in front of the door, when Varian decides to go for it. He suddenly wraps Hugo in a hug, causing the taller boy to tense.
After the initial shock, Hugo’s wary at first, but he hugs him back. Like it or not, he really needs this.
“I-I just wanted to say, even though you’re adopted, I still love you as my real brother, Hugo,” Varian tells him genuinely. “Nothing is ever going to change that.”
Hugo blushes nervously, but the corners of his mouth start to turn up in a smile.
“I...uh...”
He sighs, and finally gives in to the “sappy” moment.
“I love you too, Hairstripe.”
And he means it. Their glassware might be broken, and even their reputation is shattered into pieces, but they have each other and that’s all that really matters.
———————————————————————
I hope you all enjoyed this one! It hurt me to write those bullies...haha, but I actually loved writing the story!! Thank you so much Mom for asking for this!!! 💙
#it’s soft until i mention that this is in the same au as ‘I Promise...’#varian and the seven kingdoms#hugo seven kingdoms#alchemy bros#best friends au#varian#tts fics#platonic i love you’s amiright?
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hey! so ive been missing streams 😭 and i was wondering wtf has been happening in the dream smp since the election results were revealed? i'm so lost and i really dont wanna watch all the streams 😔😔😔
oh god a loooot has happened; i personally recommend watching wilburs edited vids on his channel if u rlly want to understand everything but ill give a basic summary!!
major MAJOR spoilers for the dream smp (obviously) so if u don't want to hear about it then don't continue on (also its kinda long bcause all i think about is the dream smp-)
SO schlatt and quackity won the election, schlatt banished wilbur & tommy from l’manberg & renamed l’manberg to manberg. wilbur and tommy created a new place called pogtopia which is a bit away from the manberg / main area. quackity is schlatts vice president, tubbo is secretary of state (i believe?)
tubbo is a spy and is secretly working for pogtopia. technoblade joins the server and joins pogtopia to help take down schlatt. all he did for the most part was farm potatoes...and breed horses....
dream reveals he doesnt support schlatt out of fear that schlatt will begin to take over the entierty of the dream smp, but he cant show his support of pogtopia publicly. niki doesnt like schlatt, schlatt taxes her, they just hate each other in general. fundy is also secretly a spy, but hes not directly giving info to anyone, he just keeps a journal about what he has learned. fundy begins to question what side he supports, and begins to lean more in favor of schlatt because schlatt has been cleaning up the area and basically has been making everything look nice.
tommy and tubbo make a giant tunnel under manberg that leads to pogtopia (which is also connect to the prime path for, well, obvious reasons). technoblade has mostly just been trying to get the best gear for himself & has been trying to breed the best horse (he gets a trident at one point).
wilbur goes insane and believes he and tommy are on the bad side of history, that they’re the villians. wilbur gives up on getting l’manberg back and has settled on just blowing it all to shit so no one can have it. dream backs wilburs plan and supplies him with TNT and wilbur rigs the entire underground of manberg with TNT (much like dream did in l’manberg during the dream smp war) tommy doesnt support wilburs decision to blow everything up.
(this isnt exactly really story-related but sapnap killed tommys cow, henry, and dream, techno, and tommy teamed up to fight sapnap and a few others. idk it isnt rlly important to the plot but i enjoyed it so :D)
schlatt announces there will be a manberg festival, in celebration of democracy and everything. wilbur decides thats the day hes going to blow everything up. tommy still doesnt support wilburs plan. tubbo and fundy (and i think quackity?? idk) set up for the festival. tubbo has a speech written for the festival and one of the lines is the cue for wilbur to press the button to blow everything up.
the day of the festival comes along, schlatt gives a few speeches, wilbur and tommy watch from the top of one of the buildings. everyone is invited (even technoblade) to the festival, except wilbur and tommy. technoblade brings and OP rocket launcher crossbow and tries to get info on manberg. they play games and stuff.
wilbur starts to question if he really wants to go through with blowing everything up (because he will be blowing up all his friends in the process) and tommy continues to try to talk him down. wilbur ends up asking tubbo what he should do, and tubbo doesnt know. wilbur tells tubbo that if he says the cue in the speech, he’ll do it, and if he doesn’t, he wont. tubbos speech comes along eventually, and at the end he hesitates saying the cue, and schlatt begins to ask if he had anything more to say. tubbo eventually does say the cue, and wilbur goes and runs off to find the button to blow everything up.
schlatt starts encasing tubbo in a box and wilbur gets distracted and goes back to see what is going on. schlatt announces infront of everyone that tubbo is a traitor. schlatt calls technoblade up to the stage and tells technoblade to “take him out”. technoblade tries to stall, wilbur and tommy assure tubbo that techno is on their side and wont hurt him. techno gives in to peer pressure and kills tubbo with the rocket launcher crossbow, killing schlatt and quackity in the process (because they were on stage as well and just vacinity stuff yknow).
tommy and wilbur panic. wilbur goes and rushes to find the button, but cant find it. tommy reveals his position and goes in to kill techno, claiming techno has betrayed them. techno just starts shooting his rocket launcher into the crowd, killing basically everyone. tommy and tubbo meet up in the manberg-pogtopia tunnel. wilbur, tommy, tubbo, and techno all go back to pogtopia. wilbur and tommy are the most mad at techno, but wilbur forgives him. tommy doesnt and still believes hes a traitor. wilbur manipulates tommy and tells him to use that anger and to kill techno, so they fight in a pit that wilbur made. tommy dies, and everything is basically settled (though tommy is still mad at techno). niki also joins pogtopia. niki, tubbo, and tommy meet up just outside pogtopia and discuss whats going on. they all agree that wilbur has lost his mind and that they can only trust each other, and they begin to discuss plans of building up pogtopia so they can fight back to reclaim l’manberg. sentimental bit of them three looking off into the sunset as tommy plays the original blocks disc.
schlatt doesnt really care what happened, him, quackity, fundy, and a few others continue to play games after the whole techno thing. (i believe something with antfrost, bbh, and awesamdude happened? i dont quite know because i havent watched their pov yet but i believe they formed some kind of alliance to fight against schlatt? correct me if im wrong-) schlatt starts talking about his plans for manberg. he plans to replace the hto dog van with an apartment complex. fundy, quackity, bbh, antfrost, and awesamdude try to talk him down from it. they eventually come to an agreement that the appartment building will be built around it, so you cant see it. schlatt kills a few cats for no real reason. schlatt talks about how he wants to remove the white house (the one quackity built with wilbur and such), quackity gets defensive and tells him not to destroy it as it is a symbol of peace and he worked hard on it. schlatt still wants it to be removed but they plan to discuss it at a later time. fundy is left alone, he questions which side he supports. he is now more in favor of wilburs side because of the public execution of tubbo and the fact he killed cats.
day after the festival quackity and schlatt are on, tommy eventually joins as well. tommy plans to JFK schlatt and goes over to manberg to do so. he watches quackity and schlatt from a far, who are both at the white house. theyre both arguing over whether the white house should stay or go. schlatt wants it gone, quackity doesnt. tommy doesnt make a move and continues to watch. schlatt begins to insult the white house and starts to take it down. quackity gets pissed and kills schlatt and claims that he is no longer a part of manberg and proceeds to run off into the forest. schlatt then continues to demolish the rest of the white house.
tommy goes after quackity; quackity joins pogtopia and they head off to pogtopia. wilbur gets on and claims he has found where the button is and that he doesnt care if no one else is on, all he wants to do is kill schlatt and blow everything up. tommy tells wilbur quackity has now joined them. quackity and tommy then proceed to build a giant dick infront of the manberg flag.
wilbur then goes and shows quackity and tommy the button, quackity finds out about wilburs plan as a result. wilbur tries to push the button multiple times and quackity and tommy try to talk him down from pressing it. quackity says the only reason he ran against wilbur was to prevent dictatorship. they continue to attempt to stop wilbur from pressing the button. tommy at one point stands infront of the button and wilbur tells him to move to the side if he trusts him. tommy hesitates, but then moved. wilbur then destroys the button. wilbur says that now tommy will be leading them and making the next move. before returning to pogtopia to discuss the new plan, wilbur asks for quackity and tommy to wait outside. theres a sad moment and wilbur sings the l’manberg anthem and places the button back and says its just incase, as a backup, just so he knows that if something goes wrong, he can always rely on the button.
the three head back to pogtopia and discuss a plan. im going to be honest i was v lost on what they were saying when discussing the plans because they were all talking at once basically but the first plan, named plan a, is to use quackity to get to schlatt (its named plan a because ass...), then the second plan, plan 1, is yet to be determined, and the last plan, if those two fail, is plan b, which is to go with wilburs original plan of blowing everything to shit (b because bomb haha)
YEA thats the basic summary i think? theres a lot of other details like the fact that fundy, tubbo, and sapnap are now dreamon hunters but !! yea. sorry for this being so long aaaaaaa
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Not Deer
(This was inspired by that post that was circulating about the Not Deer in Appalachia and the town that I currently live in. @leftturnat4thandbananas I especially thought you would enjoy this little bit of quarantine-induced madness. You’ll probably recognize some of the things I’m describing.)
“Alexa, stop!,” Macey yelled at the black cylinder sitting on her night stand. The alarm shut off, and I started packing up my stuff. I caught her frown as she watched me.
“What?,” I asked, “It’s almost curfew. You know how my mom is about curfew.”
“It’s snowing outside, and it’s dark,” she swung around so she was sitting on the edge of her bed and flipped her long, dark braid back over her shoulder.
I finished packing my homework into my backpack and stood, “It’s always dark and cold when I go home in the winter. I’ll be fine.”
Both the argument and the concern in her brown eyes was familiar. She was definitely the mom friend in our group, “It’s not always snowing. People aren’t careful in the snow.”
“They’re never careful on that road,” we both lived along a back road that wound through farms and woods. It had a lot of curves, hills, and blind spots - and no sidewalk. But it was the only way to get home, so it’s the way I went. She stood up too, following me as I left her room and started down the steps.
“You can stay the night, you know. My mom won’t mind.”
“I know, Mace, but I will. You know I don’t like getting ready for school here. All my stuff is at home. I’ve either got to get up at the ass crack of dawn,” which never happened because we always stayed up late talking, “Or do a walk of shame.”
I let my backpack down in the hallway with a thunk, and retrieved my coat from their closet. I’d brought gloves, a scarf, and a hat, too even though I normally don’t. I was glad I’d grabbed them. She stood on the bottom step, chewing her bottom lip. Her parents were out to dinner, so she couldn’t bug her dad to drive me, but I know she would have if they’d been here. She tried one more tactic to get me to give up on my walk home, “What about your mom? Can she come get you?”
I shook my head, “Dad has the car. Listen, I’ve walked home in the snow before. It’ll be totally fine.”
She sighed and dropped her arms, “This is what you were talking about earlier, isn’t it. The worrying.”
“Yeah, but it’s ok. I get why you do it,” I gave her a quick hug and hefted my backpack onto my shoulders, “I’ll see you at school tomorrow.”
“Text me when you get home?”
“Of course! Later!”
“Later, Apple,” I smiled at her nickname for me and left. After I closed the door behind me, I heard the lock click into place. Her parents’ rules: if you’re home alone, you lock the door. I shifted the weight of my books on my back, and looked around.
Macey lived on a small farm, and so she had a long driveway between her house and the road. I started walking, and the sand and rocks of the unpaved drive crunched under the soles of my shit-kickers. Macey’s dad had salted the drive before they’d left, and the stones glimmered wetly in the moonlight. It turned out that the snowing had stopped while we’d been hanging out, and the clouds had gone. The ground was blanketed in a couple of inches of unblemished white. Just enough to cover the grass, but not enough to get school canceled.
The moon was out, bright and full, and it illuminated the flat, white expanse of the land that stretched out on either side. The air smelled like ice and cold, like icicles and sleeping forest. There was only a little wind, and it blew up swirls of loosely packed snowflakes from the ground. Everything had that cushioned silence that follows a new snowfall.
It took a few minutes for me to reach the actual road, and unlike the Romero family’s driveway, it hadn’t been touched by salt, sand, or plow. Typical. It probably would be covered until tomorrow morning. Our little town wasn’t exactly proactive about things like that. They preferred to suffer, I guess. I gave an annoyed snort to the empty night,
I was careful as I turned left onto the empty road, watching for the glow of headlights to give me some forewarning of a car. None came, and I kept walking.
Soon, the flat land of the farms gave way to the woods. Houses, none of them of the new construction that made up the subdivisions further up the road, were set back from the road or behind a screen of trees. This road had hills, and further along it the side of the road would give way to steep ditches and gullies. Our here, there were plenty of animals. My parents have hit deer especially a number of times; my dad even bought these weird things for his hood that are supposed to whistle and chase the deer away.
As the landscape transitioned into woods, there was an old, broken barn. Not even a barn, really, more like a two sheds stuck together. Half of it was beaten, lilting boards and a slice for a door. The other half was a rusting tin can of a structure, the metal walls little more than rust and the vines that held it together, and a set of open doors that led into gloom. A barely-there metal roof was slanted over the rested half and pitched over the wooden half, and it was only slightly less rusted than the shed itself. A useless decaying horse gate was off to the side, slanting drunkenly to the right, and a path into the woods was behind it.
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(picture to break up the wall o text.)
I hated that barn.
It creeped me out. The hairs on the back of my neck rose every time I got close. Even as a little kid I hadn’t been curious enough to overcome that particular fear, and it hadn’t gotten better over the years. Every time I walked home I crossed the street to avoid walking too closed to it and sprinted passed it. But tonight, the snow and slickness made it dangerous for me to do either of those things. My heart rate ticked up and I took my hands out of my pocket. When it came to fight or flight, I was very much in the fight category. It seemed like the wind blew a little harder, and suddenly I thought I could hear all kinds of noises that I hadn’t heard before.
The cracking of a stick somewhere in the woods, almost like a gunshot in the dark.
The fump has a pile of snow was pushed off of a branch somewhere.
The flap and tumble of some unlucky bird.
A barking dog menacing me from one of the homes nearby.
These sounds were normal, but as I was walking in front of the sad, lonely little structure, they all seemed sinister. They were living things, pulsing in the darkness when I wanted to be alone. The sounds of my steps in the snow answered. Shit kickers aren’t stealthy.
I walked past that structure as fast as I could, the fear tightening my shoulders more with every step. I clenched my teeth and my fists, and walked. The stillness was oppressive now, where moments before it had been soothing. Fear makes you see things in shadows.
Which is why, when the winter-bared bones of the bush in front of the shed clacked and scraped together in a gust of wind, I screamed and ran. Damn the snow, damn fight or flight, I was not looking to fight some supernatural entity tonight.
Apparently, though, the laws of physics still applied to me. I ran, but I didn’t get very far before I tripped have a big branch on the side of the road. My feet slipped in the snow, and I went down face-first onto my hands and knees.
In case you have ever wondered: snow does very little to cushion a fall onto rocks and rough pavement. It only makes your clothes wet on top of giving you road rash. And that ish hurts.
“Great, Alisha, juuuust great. Skinning your damned knees like a five year old because of some wind,” I grumbled aloud to myself as I stood and started brushing debris off the now-wet knees of my jeans. I checked under my gloves, and while my hands stung, the gloves had saved me from the words of the skinning. In fact, the worst was the throbbing on the back of my head where my backpack had slid up my back and smacked my head. Well, that and the knowledge that whatever goblin lived in that shed was probably having a laugh at my expense.
The fall did do one good thing, though. It broke through the worst of my fear, and I laughed to myself as the adrenaline started wearing off. I started down the road again, stomping in protest, my cold hands jammed back in my pockets.
From here, the road got darker as the trees reached overhead. Even in the winter they blocked most of the light from the moon, and out here in the country they didn’t bother with street lights. The embankments on the side of the road rose and forced me to walk directly on the road instead of off to the side. This was the most dangerous part, because this was also where the tight curves started. I felt my adrenaline spike again, but this time there was nothing supernatural about it; I was alert for headlights bouncing off of the tree branches.
As I walked, I listened to the world around me, my caution making my senses stretch further. I heard the same things as before: the cracking of sticks in the forest as some creature shuffled around them, the huffing of a dog that probably just wanted to play, the whispered hush of snow rearranging itself in the trees, and the occasional noise of some small creatures settling in for the night. They were the same noises I always heard around here at this time of year, familiar as the nose on my face. It’s funny how the mind plays tricks.
I found a good walking speed that wasn’t so fast it was dangerous, but wasn’t so slow that I’d be frozen before I got home, and the time passed quickly. Before I knew it, I was almost at the little bridge before the turn off for my house. Really, bridge was a generous word for the small overpass that took the road over the little creek. It was just a flat stretch of road with a thin shoulder and a low concrete guardrail. On the other side, the road curved out of view.
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(another pic to break up the wall o text. Both images are screenshots of Google street view edited in PS.)
Here, the trees pulled back some and the moon was able to shine clearly on the flat surface of the bridge. There, standing in the middle of the road, was a huge buck. I’ve seen a lot of deer living out in the stix, but this was easily the biggest one I’d ever seen. I’m 5′2, and this thing looked like its shoulder would be somewhere around my head. I didn’t even know they could get that big. The moon painted its orange-brown coat with silver, and threw the shadows created by its twisting antlers into sharp relief. They were as big as him - thick and heavy, and wickedly sharp. I couldn’t count the points from here, but it had to be at least twelve.
Wait...antlers? It was February. My dad liked to hunt, and even though I’d never gotten into he, he’d taught me a few things about deer. One of those things was that the bucks dropped their antlers earlier than this, and it was a good time to go hunting for the shed racks in the woods. This deer shouldn’t have any antlers this late in the season.
I stopped in my tracks, and as I did, it whipped its head around to look at me. There moonlight was a sharp little blade in the dark eyes of this thing as it stared at me from the other side of the river. It stared, and stared, and as it did, the same fear grabbed hold of my guts and scratched its way across the nerves of my skin. My heart was pounding, my muscles clamped tight. This was nothing like the fear I’d felt while passing the shed. It seemed like a cozy little refuge, now, as I started down this deer.
I couldn’t understand why I felt this way - it had done nothing but be big and not shed its antlers yet. That logic didn’t matter. I wasn’t getting a single step closer to that thing. I ground my teeth as I stared at it. I wanted to look away, but I couldn’t. Right now, my actions were being guided by a part of my brain that kept my ancestors alive.
Predator, it screamed, that is a predator!
It made no sense. It was a deer. Sure, they’d eat meat sometimes if it was around. They looked at gut piles like they were treats this time of year, but they didn’t kill and eat humans. That was another thing my instincts were saying - hungry. This thing was hungry. I still couldn’t say why or how I knew any of this, but I knew it down to the red marrow of my bones.
It was strange - the longer I stared down that deer, the more of a tug I felt to keep walking. To cross the river. But the terror was useful; it kept me from following that impulse. The deer huffed, and its breath didn’t fog in the cold. My brain filed that detail away automatically with the height and the antlers. The animal sounded frustrated, although it shouldn’t have been possible for me to identify that emotion so clearly.
Then it started pacing. I watched in fascination horror as it moved with an awkward, stuttering gate. It didn’t seem to know how to place its hooves, and it swayed back and forth, all while not taking its too-intelligent eyes off of its prey. It didn’t know how to move properly, and I remembered that my dad had told me of an illness. Chronic Wasting Disease - mad cow for deer. He told me how to spot one, and to steer clear of it. He told me it was neurological; that it made it hard for them to move.
But this wasn’t that. No, this deer moved like it was something else wearing the skin of a deer. Like it was new to that body and didn’t know how to use it. Its fumbling reminded me of the way a toddler moved - wobbling and unsure of what its muscles should do, but enthusiastic about being up and walking instead of crawling. It was like that, but with far less innocence and far more jerks and twitches in its movement. It almost looked like it was adjusting its deer suit as it paced on its side of the river.
It huffed again and then growled. Not like a tiger or a dog would growl, more like a cat growling if that cat had the vocal cords of a high-pitched cow. I screamed in surprise and covered my ears at the sound.
Come. Here. I could feel its anger and frustration pressing in on me, looking for purchase, looking for a crack in my terror.
There was none. It was all-encompassing. It was terror of the sort that fueled strength. Terror that sharpened your mind, that made time slow so you could think faster and survive. It was the same kind of terror that had saved the earliest of my kind on the savannahs in Africa. It was terror that whispered to me with a small, comforting voice, do not cross the moving water.
Of course - it hadn’t even attempted to cross the stream, pacing back and forth over where the edge of the stream was rather than where the edge of the bridge was. It couldn’t cross the moving water.
As soon as I had the thought the creature’s growling was honed into a scream. It stood on two legs, making it tower over me. It was trying to be more threatening, but I knew now. I knew as long as I stayed over here I was ok.
“No,” I said, my voice stead and calm. I wasn’t loud, but my voice carried in the snowy stillness and into the moon-bright night, “I won’t cross. You can’t have me.”
It screamed at me again, eyes narrowing in an almost human expression of incredulity. Inside my clothes, my skin was hot from the anger coming from the not-deer, sweat trickling down my spine, but I planted my boots and fisted my hands and would not move. I could taste ice on my tongue, and I took a deep breath through my mouth, letting the cold soothe me.
Then, there was a sound. High pitched and clear, it came from somewhere in the woods or fields around us. It was sweet, and some of the heat of the not-deer’s anger seeped away from my skin. Its had flung around awkwardly towards the sound and it went back on all fours with a loud thud. It snorted and pawed the ground, but it hesitated. Then, the call came again, louder this time. With a final, angry look at me, it took off into the forest away from me and the road home.
I stood there on that road waiting, too afraid to cross, until I was sure that I couldn’t hear it crashing through the bushes anymore. Then I took off like a shot, snow be damned. I ran across the creek, my feet sliding as I took a sharp right onto the road that led to my house, down that road and up to my house. I ran straight in the front door, locked it behind me, and pounded up the steps to my room.
I texted Macey when I got my backpack off, but I knew it was going to be a long, sleepless night.
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He // Chapter 7
Prompt II Chapter 1 II Chapter 2 II Chapter 3 II Chapter 4 II Chapter 5 II Chapter 6 II
Pairing: Rami Malek x OC (Beth)
Warnings: Angst, Smoking, and Swearing
Word Count: 1.5k
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I could feel the tears beginning to ripple out from my eyelids, but I quickly wiped them away and off of my skin, both due to frustration towards myself and because I heard a small rustling of dishes coming from the kitchen. It must’ve been one of the boys going to grab a cup of water or a midnight snack of some sort and the shock of finding me outside in combination with me crying was something i didn’t want either of them to see.
I cowered further backwards, hiding myself from the bright outdoor light so that I was now pulled back into the blackness of the natural light of the moon. I thought I was safe as I continued to puff away on my ‘cancer sticks’ as my New York acclimated body temperature basked in the warmth of California during the winter months, that is until the glass door of the patio began to quietly and slowly move until it was partially open.
I immediately fell into a panic as I tapped the burning end of my cigarette against the stonewall of the outside of the house; as if that would somehow evade the air of my existence.
“Jesus fucking Christ!”
Rami’s voice was half grumbled, half exasperated as his body visibly jumped an inch off the ground.
“I’m--i’m sorry.”
Rami rolled his eyes at my nervous words and I couldn’t blame him. I must’ve sounded like a teenage girl who had just gotten caught by a parental figure when I was a fully capable and free willing adult woman.
I thought Rami would immediately retreat inside, but he did the exact opposite, though he did it very reluctantly, but nothing seemed to come between him and his nicotine-it seemed that much hadn’t changed from the old and new rami.
As much as he could, he pretended my existence was obsolete as he walked over to the pool set in the back yard and sat his body down so his legs were dangling in the water. Though California still got pretty warm during the winter months, it was still much too cold to even fathom the thought of coming near a pool that was anything but temperature controlled, but Rami didn’t seemed to mind as he dipped his bare feet into the pool, letting his legs freely hang as he took a puff of smoke in and out of his lungs.
It was really quiet for quite some time and I wasn’t wholly upset with that. The silence couldn’t have been worse than if we both had tried to talk to one another which I could only imagine would be short, snarky replies or just pure awkward tension and us trying to work out some normality to a conversation when, we both knew, that wasn’t what we wanted to talk about.
I could feel the burn from the partially lit stick in my hand begin to press closer to my fingers as I tapped the remaining ash onto the cement ground. After I took the last drag of smoke I placed the cigarette in a nearby ash tray that was nearly full to the brim with cigarettes that didn’t look far off from being fresh. Of course, this made my heart feel cold for the boys, but mainly for the one who I used to think was my soulmate. He always did smoke more when he was stressed, sad, or mad and I knew he was probably taking in a pack a day, at the very least--Sami probably wasn’t faltering too far away from him either i’m sure.
Now that my cigarette was absent, there wasn’t much of a purpose for me to be lingering outside so I began heading for the patio door, doing my very best to not look at or bother Rami.
“Is this how it’s going to be?”
I paused with my hand pressed slightly firmer than before as his soft, yet graveled voice rang through my ears.
I turned my body so that I was facing him, but only slightly as my one hip resting against the door and my other hip seemed to be pointing directly in Rami’s direction.
“What do you mean?”
Though I didn’t see it, I knew Rami was rolling his eyes just based off of the tone of the groan that left his chest as he let his hand fall to the ground and tap out the butt of his cigarette against the pavement lining the pool.
“You know what I mean,” he said with his back still facing me which only seemed to get the blood in my lips boiling some more as I coated them with a swipe from my tongue.
“Oh, I'm sorry! Am I the one who was completely ignoring you basically all day? Am I the one who has barely said a word to you even though you are the very reason I am here.”
“I did speak first.”
I rolled my eyes heavily in response just hoping that it was convince both him and me that I wasn’t feeling tears beginning to fill up the very tips of my eyes.
I was frustrated and angry and my body always thought it best to release those emotions with a prickling of water droplets landing on my cheeks--it was always something I hated because I wasn’t able to hide my emotions well because my body wouldn’t allow me that sort of satisfaction. As I prepared for my emotions to show through, I turned my face back towards the door, ensuring that he wouldn’t get the satisfaction of seeing what resulted from him pushing my buttons.
I grasped the silver handle and thought it best if I just went inside, back to the unfamiliar room and left to wither away on a bed that consistently had me tossing and turning. The latch had nearly made contact with the door until Rami came up, running nearly at top speed, and caught the metal door just before it was able to properly shut all the way. To say I was surprised was not an understatement, but what I felt was a bit more thorough than shock. For the first time ever, I couldn’t pinpoint why he was doing what he was doing and I didn’t just mean blocking me from shutting the door--not that that didn’t also leave me very puzzled. In general, I just couldn’t figure out who this Rami was and that’s what scared me the most.
I stood with eyes that I'm sure spoke louder for me than my voice could’ve ever done in this situation as Rami just peered down at me with the softest expression that i’d seen from him since my arrival. Without fragmenting his eyes away from mine, he moved just the slightest bit forward and closed the door behind him--I responded my moving backwards, allowing himself more room, but it seemed as though he wasn’t quite fond of my action.
“Please, can we just be civil.”
“Civil”, I scoffed as my arms instinctively wrapped themselves around my middle. “You expect me to be civil when you call me at an absolutely ridiculous hour with no reason to give, fly me out here, against, with no reason given, and then I get here and we act like this!”
“Like what?” Rami looked at my annoyed expression with one that couldn’t have been more opposite as he lowered his head so his gaze was stuck to the floor.
I couldn’t stop myself as my legs began to walk back and forth in a pacing motion.
“Rami..” I started then paused as to allow myself a brief moment of breath. “You didn’t even have the balls to come see me yourself. Your fucking brother had to come inside the fucking coffee shop and bring me to the car where you were nothing but uninviting to me.”
Rami didn’t so much mumble a response; all he could manage to do was thumb away at the button placed at the very tip of his flannel sleeve.
“How on earth do you expect me to want to talk to you when you clearly don’t want anything to do with me.. You’re just--god, you’re confusing me so much right now.”
My eyes hadn’t crossed there way over to Rami ever since I started pacing, but as soon as the subdued, soft sounds of sniffling began to sway through the air, I halted my uneasy pace. Though his eyes were not visible to me, the repetitive nature of these sniffles were easy to give him and his emotions away and I could feel nothing but great dejection as my feet stopped in their tracks.
Contrary to the vigorous energy and anger I was both thinking and speaking verbally, I wanted nothing more than for him to be happy. My intentions were never to send him spirally down into some sort of pit filled with despair and regret (though, that didn’t sound too awful..but��) I simply just wanted to be up front, or better yet, be honest!
Rami still had his face tilted parallel to the floor, but now these were just the thinnest paths leaking down from his eyes, cheeks, and chin.
He was crying.
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Tag: @lovelymalekk @mezzomercury @amcquivey @sherlollydramoine @rami-malek-trash @hazeleyedbeth @sassystrawberryk @cleopatra-knowles @xmxisxforxmaybe @soothysayer @moon-stars-soul @ramimedley @rawmemalek @hah0106
#rami malek#rami malek fic#rami malek fluff#rami malek angst#rami malek x reader#rami malek x oc#rami malek writing
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The Option II
A/N: This is a Dark!Bucky x Naïve!Reader story. It contains questionable consent.
Warnings: This is a Dark/rape/noncon story. (Please do NOT read if this offends you). There’s just dark things in here. I’m not going to tag additional warnings unless they’re scene specific (smut, type of said smut). There is a blink and miss it violence in this chapter.
Words: 6k
Summary: You arrive at Bucky’s home and are still in denial over your situation. (Remember, you’re naïve!/innocent! Because I’m sure you could read this and be like no way, I’m not that obtuse).
A/N 2: This is a plot chapter. Next chapter we’re going to get down to the smut! And many thanks to YoungMoneyMilla and Hopeless-Writings for answers some questions for me!
The bike took a hard left and you squeezed around the man’s stomach. The cold mixed with the wind made your hands so numb you weren’t sure if you were holding on tight enough. The paved road turned into dirt making you bounce hard against the seat.
Soon the trees formed a canopy, blocking out the grey skies. Some of the brush was overgrown and you weren’t certain that the dirt was wide enough for a car to even fit down. It was more like a trail than a road.
The driver started to slow as you went up a steep hill. You imagined he was gripping on to the handle bars hard in order to avoid both of you sliding off.
When he reached the top you barely had time to lessen your grip before the terrain became bumpy once more, at least the tree coverage spread and the skies appeared again. You tried to move yourself so you could see in front, but his body was too large and you did not want to stick your head out and get smacked by a branch.
He started down a hill and your cheek slammed into his back as you slid forward this time. He took a sharp right and now you were definitely on a path, the road long gone. The bike zigged and zagged through the wooded area making you completely lose any semblance of direction.
The turbulence of the ride mixed with your sour stomach was too much and you had to shut your eyes or risk dry heaving.
Finally, the bike started to slow. When you raised your lids you were back on a dirt road, thought you didn’t see the point if the directions here left no room for a car.
Most of the trees gave way to grasslands, but in the distance you still saw sprawling forests along a mountainous landscape. If you had taken in the view under other circumstance you might have considered it beautiful since snow-covered peaks decorated the panoramic view.
The bike came to a stop in front of a small two story house. It was at least a hundred years old, made out of brick. To the back left there was a wooden barn that was at least the same size of the home, with a cow and some chickens roaming around a fenced in area.
The man killed the engine, but your ears still rang with the sounds as you let go of his midsection.
“You have to get off before I do.” He didn’t turn his head when he spoke.
“Oh. Right.” Your arms were shaking uncontrollably as you swung your aching thigh over the bike.
Your legs had a twitch from clenching against the seat and you still had on the heavy backpack. It was too much and your body collapsed before you could stand up straight.
“Woah!” He jumped off the bike and crouched down in front of you. “Are you alright?”
It was the first time you really got a good look at him. He was gorgeous, with his blue eyes and chin length dark hair. But what did that matter? Right now there was more at stake.
“Sorry. That was a stupid question to ask.” He offered you a hand as you sat up on the ground.
He helped you take off the backpack and threw one strap over his own shoulder as he stood, pulling you with him. Your legs still shook, but you had a better sense of balance.
“Where am I?” You looked around, seeing nothing but the house and the barn.
“You’re freezing.” He positioned himself so he was behind you, your hand still in his. “Let’s get inside.”
You didn’t object as you walked to the front door. There was a small step up and the man reached around and put a key in a deadbolt. It looked like a serious lock for such an isolated homestead.
He pushed open the front door and you walked into a kitchen. To your right was a small fridge, sink, stove and oven, with a table in the center. Given the outside of the house you guessed this room took up half the square footage of the first floor.
“Come on.” He gave you a nudge directly to your left. Through a small doorway there was room with hard wood floors. The windows that faced the front of the house were shuttered, letting very little light in.
The man reached over and turned on a floor lamp, giving the space a dim glow. It was a long, thin room that ran the length of the kitchen. There was one couch and a coffee table, but at the very end was a large fireplace, with stacks of wood next to it.
He disappeared from behind you as you walked towards the stone structure. His footsteps creaked across the floor as he returned with two large cushions in either hand. He plopped them down and then went to the wood stack.
You dropped down onto one of the cushions as he built the fire, taking less than a minute to spark it up. The heat felt amazing and you moved closer, leaving the pillow on the floor. You held your hands up to the flames, hoping they could melt your frozen blood.
“Thank you.” You didn’t look at the man, but even in your confusion it felt necessary to express gratitude.
You felt his eyes on you as he grumbled something, but you were too interested in the fire to really pay attention as he stalked off.
There was too much fear, too many questions, but you drowned them out and just enjoyed the warmth your body had missed. Something draped over your shoulders, snapping you back to reality. You looked away from the flames to see the man standing behind you, having just placed a red and black plaid blanket over your shoulders.
“Are you hungry?” He tilted his head to the side without looking away.
His gaze was intense and it felt like he was studying you. Under normal circumstances it would’ve made you uncomfortable, but right now you needed help and if he was giving you warmth and food you would deal with stares.
You nodded your head. He paused before stomping away on the wooden floor. You heard the tick tick of a stove igniting and the shake to your body started to calm.
Leaving your hands in front of the fire you turned your head to look at the rest of the room. Cracks of grey light from the shutters behind you showed some dust in the air. Outside of the couch, coffee table, and floor lamp the only other piece of furniture was a high backed leather chair. All of the furnishing looked old.
The room was long and had room for much more furniture. There weren’t any electronic devices: no tv, no modem, no WiFi lights blinking anywhere. If it weren’t for the floor lamp you wouldn’t have been certain the place had electricity.
Where were you? Who were you with? What happened last night? You shut your eyes and tried to remember, but all you got were flashes that made your head ache.
You pulled one hand back and placed it on your forehead, allowing the heat from you palm to seep into your face. There were so many questions.
“Are you warm enough? Can you walk?” He stood in the doorframe that went into the kitchen.
“Yes.” You pushed yourself back onto your feet.
Everything hurt, but not enough to immobilize you again. The man did not come to help as you pulled the blanket tighter around your shoulders and walked toward him.
“I don’t eat anywhere but the kitchen.” He spun and walked away.
When you made it to the door the faint scent of oatmeal hit your nose. It wasn’t your favorite, but your stomach gurgled at any food.
The man pulled out a chair and you walked over, taking a seat. The kitchen was at least double the width of the other room. You noticed a closed door in the corner next to the stove and a small hallway to the back. He took a seat opposite you.
“Eat.” He folded his arms across his chest.
Even if you weren’t starving his order carried a note that would’ve made you comply. You picked up the spoon and shoveled the bland oats down your mouth. There was a glass of water too and when you noticed it you grabbed it without hesitation and chugged. If you were a plant you were watering yourself.
The man didn’t say anything. He just watched you eat. When you looked up at him there was a hint of a smile on his face, as if he approved. You looked back at your food and decided to focus on that instead.
“Do you want more?” He picked up your empty glass of water and walked to the sink.
“Please.” You were at the point where you would lick the bowl clean.
“Alright.” He brought the glass back filled to the brim and took your bowl back to a pot on the stove.
“What’s your name?” You took another chug of water.
He didn’t respond and you worried you shouldn’t have asked. The table was in the middle of the kitchen, the door and fridge behind you, to your right was the sink and all the cabinets and in front of you the stove, hall and closed door. The floor was black and white checked. You figured the kitchen was updated in the 1950s, looking much more modern than the rest of the home.
“Bucky.” He turned back around with a refilled bowl.
You pulled your chin back. It was the first question he had answered and you didn’t expect to hear such an odd name.
“What’s yours?” He set the food in front of you.
“Y/N. Y/N Y/L/N.” You picked up the spoon again and took another bite. “Bucky is an unusual name. What is it short for?”
“Why don’t you tell me how you ended up at that market?” He put his arms on the table and leaned forward. “Or in Eastern Europe?”
“I flew into Paris and was taking a train to Turkey. I’m supposed to meet my uncle in Istanbul.” At least you knew what general part of the world you were in. “I was drinking with my friend on the train, I must have had too much. Next thing I know I’m waking up on the streets in some little town.”
“Your friend?” Bucky barely blinked while he stared at you. “Was she traveling with you?”
“No, actually I just met her on the train.” You picked up another spoonful of food. “See my uncle, he showed up at my parents’ funeral and offered to have me move with him, he’s the last family I have left. I didn’t know if I wanted to move to Istanbul, but I figured I’d check it out for a few months. He has to be worried sick about me.”
Bucky rolled his lips between his teeth as he nodded his head.
“Do you have a phone? I didn’t memorize his phone number, but I’m sure I can find him. Maybe contact a consulate?” You paused to take a sip of water.
Bucky took a deep breath and glanced toward the sink.
“Thank you.” You didn’t want him to think you weren’t grateful. “I don’t know how I fell off the train. Is there a stop nearby? Maybe I drank too much and wondered off? I left my passport, my phone, all my clothes, my money.”
You let out a sigh and stared at the ceiling, blinking away the tears. You didn’t want to cry in front of the man who just saved you from wondering the streets for hours.
“Y/N. I need you to listen very carefully to me.” Bucky annunciated every word. You dropped your gaze to look at him.
His tight features relaxed while his eyes glazed over. You knew he was struggling with what to say.
“You’ve been…unlucky.” He moved his jaw from side-to-side. “This is a bad place.”
“What do you mean?” His house? It was a little unloved, but with a few pictures on the wall it would be fine.
“You are in a small, lawless, country. Most people don’t even know the name or that it exists.” Bucky folded his arms again.
“Oh?” He let out a small chuckle. An undiscovered country in the middle of Europe? You found that hard to believe. “This is a mistake. Even if I get in touch with the train company, I can figure this out.”
You saw the townspeople today. They looked like normal people. Why would anyone even live in a lawless place? Images of the Wild West came to your mind. That was not what you saw this morning.
The oatmeal in your stomach was expanding and a wave of sleepiness washed over you. You brought your hand to your mouth to cover a yawn.
“You should get some rest.” Bucky stood up from the table. “I’ll figure something out.”
“My uncle will be worried. I need to contact him.” That was the right thing. When you didn’t show up tomorrow he would probably send out the national guard for you.
The realization changed the guilt you were feeling to relief. Maybe the train already figured out you were missing too. People would be looking for you.
Bucky walked over to the closed door next to the stove, he pulled it open and you saw a claw foot tub with a shower.
“This is the bathroom. There isn’t one upstairs.”
“Thanks.” You stood up from the table. “But right now I just want to lay down.”
Bucky nodded before closing the door. He walked around the stove to the back hallway. You followed and saw it led to a back door and two sets of stairs to your left, one down one up. He started up.
The steps were thin, narrow, and steep. Even though the walk wasn’t that long you imagined tumbling down the things would be easy and painful. They were some old form of tile and faded rose wallpaper covered the walls.
The steepness made it so his ass was right in front of your face as you trailed him. A warmth come over you and you tried not to look straight ahead as you walked upstairs.
The hallway at the top was very thin. The entire upstairs sat on top of the room with the fireplace. Whoever built this house had the idea of very few people who loved to cook living here.
“That’s my room.” At the end of the hall was a shut door. “You can stay here.”
Bucky opened a door right at the top of the stairs. The room was probably nine feet by five feet. A very odd design. There was an old wardrobe and then a deflated twin size bed you knew would be lumpy, but right now looked so comfy with a quilt and a pillow.
The cloud of dust from the tiny window in the corner didn’t bother you. The aches working their way through your body came back. All you wanted in the entire world was that bed.
“I’ll be around when you wake up.” Bucky moved to the side so you could walk into the room.
“Thank you.” You weren’t sure you got the entire sentiment out before you collapsed on the bed.
You still wore the throw he gave you and pulled it tighter around you as you started to drift off to sleep. Your uncle would notice you were missing soon enough. People would be looking for you. Everything would be alright.
“You’re welcome.” Bucky’s voice almost jarred you from drifting off, you’d forgotten he was there.
But then the door shut and the sleepiness returning. It would be okay. It had to be.
~~~
CHOP! Bucky brought down the axe, splitting the wood in two. That innocent look on her face. So trusting, completely oblivious to what was going on. CHOP! He split another log.
He couldn’t bring himself to tell her the truth. That she had been sold like an animal. Drugged, tossed off the train on purpose. Would she even believe him? All the facts lined up.
CHOP! That friend was no friend at all. But given the fact Y/N told Bucky her entire life story unprompted in less than two minutes it was impossible to tell if the uncle was in on it or not. CHOP!
Bucky assumed he was, but he always thought the worst of people. SPLIT! If she went to any type of official figure here they would return her to the traffickers.
He would have to smuggle her out of the country. The Romanian boarder wasn’t far distance wise, but it would mean scaling mountains to cross it and that was next to impossible this time of year.
The Ukraine was out too for the same reasons. That left Hungary or Slovakia. Both were clear on the other side of the country and had heavily protected borders.
Odds were some of the guards were heavily paid by the traffickers and would be looking for her. Besides that, he didn’t have a car at that moment.
This was a mess. CHOP! She was going to have to stay here, for at least the winter. Bucky didn’t see any other option. SPLIT!
“Hi.” Bucky went rigid at the sound of her voice. “Um, I found a spare toothbrush in your bathroom. I hope you don’t mind that I opened it.”
“It’s yours.” Bucky set the axe down and turned.
She still had the blanket wrapped around her. Her lips did a slight turn upward.
“I was scared you were going to be mad.” She stuck a hand out and smoothed her hair back. “I know I’m only going to be here for a little bit, I don’t want to overstep my bounds.”
So naïve. Most people in her position would be bawling, terrified. She was a victim in a strange place with a stranger and was worried about taking a toothbrush. It was surreal.
“I don’t have a car, or a phone, or a way to reach anyone.” Bucky needed to come clean with her, let her know what was happening.
“Tomorrow morning, my uncle will notice I’m missing.” She let out a small laugh. “I thought maybe you could take me back to that town again? Do you speak their language? Maybe be a translator and we can make a phone call. By that point I’m sure he will have alerted everyone, the consulate, the train company, the police, probably anyone who will listen.”
“Right.” Coward.
The town and the surrounding area had to be crawling with a team searching for her. Bucky guessed a woman like her was worth at least 500,000 Euros, maybe even a million. That was an investment nobody was going to let slip away.
He assumed that several townspeople already reported him leaving with her. That was going to be a problem for him. The next time he needed supplies he was going to have to travel double the distance to the next city.
At least the country house was safe. He took a strange way back in case they were being followed and was already passing two closer cities. They wouldn’t search this far out.
“So you don’t mind if I stay the night?” She shrugged her shoulders.
Endearingly awkward, too trusting, and ripe for picking. Y/N was like finding a peach in a desert.
“It’s fine.” Bucky lied.
She would be staying a lot longer than a night, but at least he bought himself some time for her to figure that out on her own.
“Thanks.” She rocked back on her heels. “Is there anything I can do for you in the meantime? I mean, I don’t think I can chop wood, but I could carry some of it inside? Make a stack for you?”
“You don’t have a jacket and its near freezing out.” Bucky picked up several pieces of wood. “Go back inside.”
“Oh.” Her eyes dropped to the ground as she spun and started walking.
She was certainly good at following orders. There were never any follow up questions. Obviously the girl was scared. Bucky felt a pang of guilt sending her away with nothing to occupy her thoughts.
“Wait.” It took Bucky two steps to catch up with her. “Upstairs in my bedroom, go into the closet and see if there is anything that will fit you. Take a shower and then wash your clothes.”
“Alright.” She nodded her head.
“There’s a sink and a clothesline in the basement. You have to do it by hand.” Hopefully she took her time.
Bucky was used to staying self-sufficient. One of the reasons he liked this place was running it kept him busy. If he sat down for a few minutes he feared, he would fall into his own dark memories.
He knew he was going to have to explain the situation to her and when the reality set in that innocence in her eyes was going to die. He was not looking forward to being the cause.
~~~ Everything would be okay. You kept repeating that to yourself. When you got to the top of the stairs you went straight for Bucky’s bedroom. You expected another tiny room but to your surprise it was pretty big.
The floors were the same strange tile, and the bed looked as old as yours but it was much larger. Not quite a king, but probably Europe’s version. It was tall too. You could see rolling out and smacking the floor hurting.
There was a chest of drawers and an upholstered chair too. The chair caught your eye. It was white with blue flowers. You noticed the wallpaper in the room matched. The bed was covered in at least ten pillows and there was a blue quilt with three thin blankets underneath. Either Bucky inherited this place from his grandmother or it came furnished and he didn’t change a thing.
Closet. You remembered the reason you were in here. To your left there was another fireplace with a stack of wood overflowing next to it. Maybe the entire home was heated by those things.
Next to the fireplace you spotted the closet. It jutted out, someone had built it. Probably because the original architect didn’t see a use for a closet, or maybe it was a one bedroom and your room was the closet originally. That actually made some sense given the size difference.
You went to the plywood box and pulled it open. Everything was perfectly organized by garment type and color. You looked over your shoulder at the flawless bed. Military. Bucky had to have served at some point.
That made you feel safer. It dawned on you that you’d never felt unsafe with him. Why? He was a stranger. You shook off the question. You wouldn’t break down. Everything would be okay.
You grabbed a long sleeved black shirt and a pair of black work-out pants. You could make these work.
The last thing you wanted was to end up alone with your thoughts. So even though you chose the clothing quickly you planned on taking the longest shower of your life, scrubbing yourself into oblivion.
It was no secret that you had become a pro at distracting yourself the past month. You didn’t want to think about your parents’ deaths and as long as you kept busy you wouldn’t. This was no different than that situation.
Bucky told you to shower and do laundry and that was exactly what you were going to do. So you shut the door to the closet and his room before heading back downstairs. Other thoughts tried to force their way into your brain but you pushed them out with your mantra: everything would be okay.
~~~ The basement was short. You almost had to bend over. The stairs down were as dangerous as the stairs up, except for if you fell it would mean a hard landing on concrete.
A wall of painted bricks divided the basement in half, but it was so creepy and dark you didn’t even want to explore the other side.
It didn’t stop you from washing though. Luckily the basin sink was at the bottom of the stairs and the clothes line started right above. You scrubbed your jeans, shirt, bra, and panties ten times before adding them to the clothes line and using the pull system to send them deeper into the basement.
You adjusted Bucky’s pants. It felt so dirty wearing his clothes without any undergarments, but you didn’t have any other choice. A heat hit your cheeks when you thought about searching his underwear drawer.
Even though you never expected his clothing to fit you right, they seemed to hang in the exact right place where it wasn’t too tight or loose. You still worried a little about getting too cold, but the black and red blanket was against the stairs, when you went back up you would wrap yourself again.
There was a basket of warn clothes at the bottom of the stairs and when you finished yours you were happy for more work and eagerly started washing Bucky’s with the exact amount of care and concern.
“You don’t have to wash those.” Bucky’s voice made you snap your head to the stairs. “Come on. I made dinner.”
Had that much time passed? You yawned and your stomach ached again. You had skipped lunch after all. Your feet felt so heavy as you walked up the stairs. A yawn escaped your mouth but it quickly turned into a cough and you covered your mouth with your fist.
“Are you alright?” Bucky didn’t stop walking.
“I’m fine.” You picked up the blanket and tried to wrap it around yourself like a shawl.
The table had two plates set out on it. Even before you saw the food the smell told you it was eggs. You saw an omelettes with glasses of water.
“I eat eggs a lot.” Bucky pulled out your chair, but didn’t wait for you to sit before walking to the other side and sitting down himself. “The chickens make it easy.”
“I like eggs.” You picked up your fork and started eating.
He took a bite and suddenly the house felt too quiet. You looked at the window behind him and saw the sky was turning dark blue. It was later than you expected. You sighed in relief, at least the time went by fast. Tomorrow everything would be alright again. Your uncle would sound the alarm and you would respond. But in the meantime you didn’t want to come off as rude to your host, you decided to start the small talk.
“Is the barn heated?” You took another bite. “What will you do with them when it gets sub zero?”
“The winters hover around the freezing point. It won’t ever get that cold, but the snow can be brutal. Meters deep.” He ate more.
“How long have you lived here?” You thought back to his comment about this being a lawless area. “A month.” Bucky’s fork hit the plate with a scratching sound. Did you ask the wrong question? Another yawn escaped your mouth and again it turned into a cough. You turned to your side and bent down as the coughing continued this time. The last thing you wanted was to shun his food.
“Is the omelette okay?” The sound of his chair scratching against the floor carried across the kitchen.
He was walking toward you. It was enough to make you sit back up again and try to manage your throat. You picked up the glass of water and tried to muffle your cough.
“It’s fine, I’m just not that hungry.” You took another sip and stood up from the chair. “I think I need sleep. I’ll be fine in the morning.”
Your body felt so heavy. Nothing you had said was a lie. Bucky was right in front of you. His brow scrunched and you turned your head to look over your right shoulder as your started toward the stairs.
“I can’t thank you enough.” He really was your savior. “It’s been a long day. Tomorrow I’ll be out of your hair.”
He didn’t speak, but he gave you a slight nod as he followed you to the stairs. You’d slept most of the day, but you were still exhausted. This wasn’t like you. At least the stairs were vertical enough you got away with using your hands to fake crawl while he waited at the bottom.
When you got to the top you pushed open the door to your room and weren’t sure you could make it the six inches to your bed.
You collapsed on top of it immediately and another coughing fit came. Your chest started to burn. It annoyed you because it was blocking your sleep. That was all you needed. Then everything would be okay. ~~~ “AHHHH!!!” A blood curdling scream made your eyes open. “RRRRRAAAAHHHH!!!” You coughed as you sat up in bed, your body felt like jelly. The screaming continued. It carried such pain. What was happening? You stood up and went to the hallway.
The noises were coming from Bucky’s bedroom. With heavy feet you leaned against the wall as you walked. Was he okay? Was someone hurting him?
You didn’t hesitate when you opened the door. His shrieks were so loud you almost covered your ears, but in the dark you could see him thrashing around. Night terror.
Without thinking you went to the bed and touched his shoulder. It was cold and hard, not what you were expecting.
“Bucky wake up.” You started to shake him. “You’re having a nightm…”
You didn’t have a chance to finish the sentence before you were slammed down on the floor. Fingers were on your throat squeezing your breath away. That was the last thing you felt before your head bounced back against the hard tile and everything went black. ~~ A whimper broke Bucky from his trance. His breathing was ragged as he let go of Y/N’s neck.
“Shit.” He went to flip on the lamp. “I’m so sorry, you scared me.”
Why did she come in here? When light flooded the room Bucky’s heart sank.
“No no no no no…” He dropped to the floor, sliding next to her.
She was dead. The first person he tried to help he murdered. He was evil. Then he felt a hot breath on his hand. He noticed her chest rising and falling. She was alive.
He closed his eyes and dropped his neck, never expecting to be happy about knocking an innocent girl out. He moved her head to the side and ran his hand over her hair. There was no blood.
He pulled her close to him and lifted her up so she was in his arms.
“Y/N can you hear me?” He snapped his fingers in front of her face.
No response. He hoped she wasn’t concussed. He tried to give her a gentle shake.
“Y/N. I need you to wake up.” He snapped next to her ear.
“Mmmmm.” She let out a groan and wiggled closer to him, so her head fell against his chest. “Where awweroirjsh.”
He couldn’t make out what she was saying. She was so delicate in his arms, he didn’t want to hurt her again and she wasn’t safe with him. She was also hot. Ridiculously hot. Bucky brought his hand to her forehead.
“Fuck, you’re burning up.” He stood up with her in his arms and laid her down in his bed.
Maybe it wasn’t him throwing her to the ground that caused the black out. He shook his head in disappointment. The girl spent the entire night on the street in the cold last night and then the chilly motorcycle ride after. He should have known she was going to get sick.
“I’ll be right back.” He didn’t know if she could hear him as she cuddled into the bed.
He jumped down the entire flight of stairs and did the same into the basement. He rounded the cement wall to the other side and went to his supply shelf. Then he flipped on the lantern and grabbed the medical bag.
Most of what he had was for pain management and battle wounds. But he knew there were antibiotics in there somewhere. He had almost tossed them last time he loaded up, but for some strange reason decided to hold on to them, not like he was capable of getting sick, but he never knew if a wound could get infected.
He found the bottle and grabbed it. Then he took a bottle of pain pills too. He didn’t think mixing them would be a problem.
Bucky went back upstairs and grabbed water from the kitchen before going back to his bedroom.
“Y/N. I need you to wake up.” He sat next to her on the bed.
“No.” There were tear stains on her face, at least she wasn’t dehydrated.
“Now.” Bucky snapped.
Y/N’s eyes opened a crack as she positioned herself on her elbow.
“Take these.” He held his hand out.
To his surprise she just dipped her head and ate them out of his palm. He put the water to her lips and tilted the glass.
“Good girl.” He wasn’t an expert, but figured her fever was in the 103-104 range.
He was surprised she had enough strength to walk into his room earlier. When he took the water away she collapsed on the bed.
Maybe he should have left her. He wasn’t capable of taking care of anyone. How did he not notice she was sick? He felt like a failure. No. He was right to have saved her, and he would make sure she got better.
He walked over to the corner of the room and dragged the ugly chair over to the bed. Even if that meant watching her all night.
“I’m sorry.” He sat in the chair as he took in her face. “I’m so sorry Peach.”
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FIC: Biting Off More Than You Can Chew; part 9
Summary: Rus knew a confrontation was coming. He just didn't expect it like this.
Note: Wow, I am really sorry it took me so long to update this one.
Tags: heatfic, dubious consent, NSFW, frenemies to lovers, mates, first time, more if I think of them
PLEASE READ THE TAGS: This is a Heat story, so there are going to be issues of consent. I don’t do partner rape, nope, but hey, I want to be straight with y’all. I like heatfics personally, but I understand how they can be troubling for some people. So there it is.
Read Chapter 1
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Read it here!
~~*~~
So it turned out Edge did deserve some credit. Despite being dumped on his own in Underswap where to him all the paths would seem backwards and wrongways, he didn’t do too bad getting back to Snowdin.
Not that Rus let him get too far out of sight. Better to not leave any of the Underfell crowd alone in his ‘verse, right? Edge probably wasn’t going to start any weekend massacres or anything, but it was always good to make sure nothing happened to make Monday morning coffee a little awkward at Muffet’s.
So instead of taking a direct shortcut home, instead he took shorter ones, keeping just ahead of Edge. Besides, even if Edge didn’t know the path, the hints of cigarette smoke that Rus left behind were probably as good as a map, anyway. Not the most conventional puzzle clue, but hey. Rus was a unique guy, gotta love it.
Rus was leaning against the garage, finishing up a last cigarette when Edge finally stalked back into town. He looked irritated, but if the last few hours taught Rus anything, it was that his expression didn’t always jive with what Edge was feeling.
"not bad, edgelord,” Rus called, “you made it back without—" killing anyone, Rus bit off. If they were stuck being bonded together, toning it down on being a complete dick was probably a good starting move, "—getting lost," Rus finished, lamely.
Somehow, he didn't think Edge was completely fooled by the bait and switch. "Thank you, I live for your middling approval. Knowing that I have your respect makes all the effort worthwhile.”
“i’m good for all kinds of middle-ing,” Rus gave him a wink and an upraised middle finger, softening it with a grin. The glare he got in return was no birthday surprise but—
Okay, Edge’s brick wall metaphor worked pretty well for keeping their emotions from butting together, but it was obvious they weren't entirely pros at this whole blocking off the bond thing. A ghostly brush of amusement that wasn’t his own slithered over Rus before vanishing.
Oh.
Edge thought he was funny. In spite of that face of his that always seemed stuck in constipated disapproval, beneath it, Edge actually thought he was funny. It was an uncomfortable realization, made Rus play back a dozen other interactions where he took Edge's remarks as sarcasm and yeah, they were, but not the sarcasm he thought, tainted with dislike and irritation. It was playful sarcasm, the funtimes sarcasm that Sans and Rus both wielded like weapons experts and Red—
Nope, Red was banned from the physical and mental today.
That faint pulse of amusement was turning Rus’s world on its head and Edge was staring at him with narrowed sockets. What was he feeling, Rus wondered, wildly, what emotions was Rus sending his way, because Edge told him the morning after over pancakes that he’d never hated Rus. Somehow, that hadn't gotten around to translating into Rus’s head that maybe Edge liked him, a little, and fuck, fuck, did he know that Rus was trying not to think about kissing him? That he was remembering the heat of Edge’s mouth when he’d fitted his teeth into the healing bite mark on Rus’s collarbone, which suddenly decided now was its chance to start throbbing. The temptation was growing despite Rus trying desperately to plant a mental brick on top of it.
Did he take a step closer or did Edge? Rus wasn't even sure. His cigarette dropped from his hand into the snow and Rus barely heard the hiss as it extinguished.
He was looking at Edge’s mouth and was certainly not thinking at all of the way he’d used it in their shared shower, the unexpected skill of his tongue, he wasn’t, he fucking wasn’t, and Rus didn’t even comprehend the soft ‘ting’ of Edge’s soul turning blue until he was yanked backwards and thrown to the ground. He whipped his head around to see Blue standing with his hand outstretched, his starry eyes blazing with blue-yellow flames. “What the hell did you do to my brother!”
Rus didn’t think. Everything was on automatic as he called on his own magic, flooding with more power than he normally accessed for simple shortcuts as he extended his control hand and pushed. His brother flew back, bouncing off the porch steps with enough force to knock a couple points off his HP.
Snow fell off him in clumps as Blue sat up, his expression twisting between hurt and shock. "Papy?"
Oh, fuck. What had he done, he’d never, never hurt his brother, oh, god, oh, fuck, he--
"okay, that's enough!"
He felt the hard rush of magic enveloping his own soul, the ridiculously cheery chime of it changing blue. It was the only warning he got before Rus was sent sprawling in the snow, cold wetness seeping into his sweatshirt and pants. With an effort, Rus lifted his head from the ground to see Blue and Edge both equally pinned.
To his shock, it was Sans holding them down, one eye socket blazing yellow-blue. His brother stood anxiously next to him, wringing his hands as Sans made his slow way down the stairs, uncaring at the slush dampening his slippers as he walked over to Rus.
"you all right?" Sans asked Rus bluntly.
"me?” Rus sputtered, “of course i’m all right, why the hell--“
Sans interrupted him, his normal laconic speech crisped into sharp syllables. It reminded Rus of…of someone, he wasn’t sure who— “because the three of us just got a hellava treat listening through a locked door while you begged him not to touch you, and when we broke in, you were both gone. no offense, edgelord, but that didn't seem like the world’s friendliest chat going on."
"None taken," Edge said calmly, for all the world like they were having a debate over the dining room table and he wasn't pinned down in the wet snow. "We can explain."
Rus flinched, because they could, but he didn't want to, he didn't, fuck, it was no one else's business. To his relief, he and Sans were in agreement.
"don't need an explanation,” Sans said. The sharpness in his words faded with the strobing light in his socket. “whatever is between you two is on you. just wanted to make sure no one was hurt." He let his hand drop and the pressure on Rus’s soul eased. “now, i wanna watch a movie. you all can come along when you’re ready. c’mon, pap.”
He shuffled his way into the house, Papyrus at his heels and whatever furious, too-loud whispers he was directing at his brother were drowned out by the dull roar in Rus’s head as he looked over to where Blue was laying.
Rus scrambled up and stumbled over to his brother who was slowly sitting up. His baby brother whom he’d never hurt, never, spent years putting band aids on his scraped knees, worked three jobs until he’d been able to get them a house. Those starry eyes always looked at him trustingly, always, and Rus fell to his knees next to him, reaching out and afraid to touch. “blue," Rus started brokenly, "i’m so--"
He broke off when Blue flung himself into his arms, holding him tightly enough to make his breath whoosh out. "Papy! I was so worried!"
"i'm sorry, bro," Rus wheezed, hugged him just as tightly even as his ribs groaned a protest.
He heard the crunch of snow next to them and ducked his head lower, burying his face into Blue’s scarf. Not even a week bonded, and it was already fucking with his head enough that he’d hurt his brother. He needed to get a handle on this, now, and it was pretty obvious that Edge being in his general vicinity wasn’t helping.
A raw little sound escaped from Rus as Blue let go, trying to squirm free and reluctantly, Rus let him. Standing, his brother was barely taller than Rus was kneeling down, but he looked up over Rus’s head with uncommon solemnness.
"I'm sorry, Edge," Blue said quietly.
"No apologies are necessary.” That rough voice, directly behind him, and Rus viciously suppressed a shiver that had nothing to do with the cold snow he was kneeling in. "You were worried for your brother, of course you'd want to protect him.”
Despite his sincere attempts not to think of Red, a pang went through Rus, mostly his, but maybe not all. Protecting his brother, yeah, and Red was a fucker and a half, but—
More snow crunching, moving away and Rus heard the click of the front door, leaving him alone with his brother.
Lifting his head to look at Blue was the hardest thing Rus had ever done. But his eye lights were as starry as ever, filled with that same trust. Not that Rus deserved it, never had, but even less so now. “bro, i’m so sorry.”
Blue only waved it off, unconcerned that his older brother just fucking attacked him like some New Home street thug. “Don’t be silly, Alphys does worse than that when she tells me good morning.”
Too forgiving, by far, always, but damn if Rus wasn’t selfish enough to take it. He nodded, letting out a shaky sigh, “i'm sorry if we worried you.”
Now that he wasn’t all torn up by his feeble attempt at fratricide, what Sans said was starting to come in a little clearer. No wonder Edge let them all off so easy; if Rus had been on the other side of the door listening to Blue begging someone not to touch him, they’d be picking splinters out of the kitchen cupboards for a month.
A gloved hand cupped the side of Rus’s face he leaned into it, shamelessly basking in his brother’s affection. “Papy, what’s going on?”
“i—" Rus hesitated, swallowing hard. How could he explain any part of this to his brother? He’d never hidden his sexual proclivities, neither proud nor ashamed of them, and Blue never judged. The worst he’d ever gotten was exasperated when Rus was late because he’d accidentally slept over. But how could he look into his brother’s trusting, starry eyes and explain this clusterfuck? But he couldn’t say nothing, either.
Okay, then, evasive maneuvers. “can we talk about it later?”
Gentle as his brother was, there was some steel in his spine and right now it was working as a poker in his ass. That expression was pure determination, even as Blue nodded. He was getting a pass, for now, but it wouldn’t last forever, and Rus was going to have to either come clean or work out a new bedtime story that Blue might buy.
Welp, that was a problem for Tomorrow Rus. Today Rus pulled his brother in for another hug, one that Blue happily returned…for a moment.
"Phew!" Blue pushed him away, and his expression was one of almost comical dismay. "You stink, brother, when was the last time you took shower?"
Wow, rude. “i took a shower this morning! i’m clean as a freshly washed bar of soap.” Rus tugged up the front of his sweatshirt and gave it a good sniff. Didn’t smell weird to him, but then, he spent all day stewing in his odors, so he probably wouldn’t notice. "probably my hoodie, must've picked it from the wrong laundry pile."
“Go change,” Blue scolded, giving him a gentle shove even as he waved a hand in front of his face. “Do you want to finish the movie? You can go take a nap if you’d rather, I can tell the others you’re tired.”
“bro, you are a bonafide living angel,” Rus said, and that was nothing but frank honesty.
Blue huffed out a laugh and gave him another playful shove. “Go on, then, I’ll bring you up a plate later.”
“thanks, bro,” Rus scrambled to his feet, dripping snow as he dropped a kiss on top of Blue’s skull and stepped back, shortcutting up to his room. He stripped off his wet clothes and left them in a pile, not bothering to replace them as he collapsed bare bones onto the mattress, already halfway to an exhausted dreamland.
The blanket stayed in a crumpled ball at his feet, unused. Maybe he needed to check on their thermostat, Rus decided, already more asleep than not. Cheap fucking thing might be broken again, because it felt like it was set too high. The house seemed kinda hot.
~~*~~
tbc
#spicyhoney#papcest#keelywolfe#underfell#underswap#underfell papyrus#underswap papyrus#biting off more than you can chew
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A simple retrofit transforms electron microscopes into high-speed atom-scale cameras
https://sciencespies.com/physics/a-simple-retrofit-transforms-electron-microscopes-into-high-speed-atom-scale-cameras/
A simple retrofit transforms electron microscopes into high-speed atom-scale cameras
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/88d8a4ae2305ae18e27278d9ab244b69/3bafa0ea85d96e19-b1/s540x810/1c7b239b6898c01539bc8ccede098d49a6e97eea.jpg)
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/71fe8a5315a578cc082ce038153c7b56/3bafa0ea85d96e19-99/s540x810/d98c03291e80fa860afd4f2215ff4f9dff58ee32.jpg)
NIST researcher June Lau with a transmission electron microscope (TEM) that she and her colleagues retrofitted in order to make high-quality atom-scale movies. Credit: N. Hanacek/NIST
Researchers at the National Institute of Standards and Technology (NIST) and their collaborators have developed a way to retrofit the transmission electron microscope—a long-standing scientific workhorse for making crisp microscopic images—so that it can also create high-quality movies of super-fast processes at the atomic and molecular scale. Compatible with electron microscopes old and new, the retrofit promises to enable fresh insights into everything from microscopic machines to next-generation computer chips and biological tissue by making this moviemaking capability more widely available to laboratories everywhere.
“We want to be able to look at things in materials science that happen really quickly,” said NIST scientist June Lau. She reports the first proof-of-concept operation of this retrofitted design with her colleagues in the journal Review of Scientific Instruments. The team designed the retrofit to be a cost-effective add-on to existing instruments. “It’s expected to be a fraction of the cost of a new electron microscope,” she said.
A nearly 100-year-old invention, the electron microscope remains an essential tool in many scientific laboratories. A popular version is known as the transmission electron microscope (TEM), which fires electrons through a target sample to produce an image. Modern versions of the microscope can magnify objects by as much as 50 million times. Electron microscopes have helped to determine the structure of viruses, test the operation of computer circuits, and reveal the effectiveness of new drugs.
“Electron microscopes can look at very tiny things on the atomic scale,” Lau said. “They are great. But historically, they look at things that are fixed in time. They’re not good at viewing moving targets,” she said.
In the last 15 years, laser-assisted electron microscopes made videos possible, but such systems have been complex and expensive. While these setups can capture events that last from nanoseconds (billionths of a second) to femtoseconds (quadrillionths of a second), a laboratory must often buy a newer microscope to accommodate this capability as well as a specialized laser, with a total investment that can run into the millions of dollars. A lab also needs in-house laser-physics expertise to help set up and operate such a system.
“Frankly, not everyone has that capacity,” Lau said.
In contrast, the retrofit enables TEMs of any age to make high-quality movies on the scale of picoseconds (trillionths of a second) by using a relatively simple “beam chopper.” In principle, the beam chopper can be used in any manufacturer’s TEM. To install it, NIST researchers open the microscope column directly under the electron source, insert the beam chopper and close up the microscope again. Lau and her colleagues have successfully retrofitted three TEMs of different capabilities and vintage.
Like a stroboscope, this beam chopper releases precisely timed pulses of electrons that can capture frames of important repeating or cyclic processes.
“Imagine a Ferris wheel, which moves in a cyclical and repeatable way,” Lau said. “If we’re recording it with a pinhole camera, it will look blurry. But we want to see individual cars. I can put a shutter in front of the pinhole camera so that the shutter speed matches the movement of the wheel. We can time the shutter to open whenever a designated car goes to the top. In this way I can make a stack of images that shows each car at the top of the Ferris wheel,” she said.
Like the light shutter, the beam chopper interrupts a continuous electron beam. But unlike the shutter, which has an aperture that opens and closes, this beam aperture stays open all the time, eliminating the need for a complex mechanical part.
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/243b543b06f1d3190522a0642a40b563/3bafa0ea85d96e19-1a/s540x810/9a47ce24f8145e4c37469fdbf84f799b02764697.jpg)
A transmission electron microscope (TEM) image of gold (Au) nanoparticles magnified 200,000 times with a continuous electron beam (left) and a pulsed beam (right). The scale is 5 nanometers (nm). Credit: NIST
Instead, the beam chopper generates a radio frequency (RF) electromagnetic wave in the direction of the electron beam. The wave causes the traveling electrons to behave “like corks bobbing up and down on the surface of a water wave,” Lau said.
Riding this wave, the electrons follow an undulating path as they approach the aperture. Most electrons are blocked except for the ones that are perfectly aligned with the aperture. The frequency of the RF wave is tunable, so that electrons hit the sample anywhere from 40 million to 12 billion times per second. As a result, researchers can capture important processes in the sample at time intervals from about a nanosecond to 10 picoseconds.
In this way, the NIST-retrofitted microscope can capture atom-scale details of the back-and-forth movements in tiny machines such as microelectromechanical systems (MEMS) and nanoelectromechanical systems (NEMS). It can potentially study the regularly repeating signals in antennas used for high-speed communications and probe the movement of electric currents in next-generation computer processors.
In one demo, the researchers wanted to prove that a retrofitted microscope functioned as it did before the retrofit. They imaged gold nanoparticles in both the traditional “continuous” mode and the pulsed beam mode. The images in the pulsed mode had comparable clarity and resolution to the still images.
“We designed it so it should be the same,” Lau said.
The beam chopper can also do double duty, pumping RF energy into the material sample and then taking pictures of the results. The researchers demonstrated this ability by injecting microwaves (a form of radio wave) into a metallic, comb-shaped MEMS device. The microwaves create electric fields within the MEMS device and cause the incoming pulses of electrons to deflect. These electron deflections enable researchers to build movies of the microwaves propagating through the MEMS comb.
Lau and her colleagues hope their invention can soon make new scientific discoveries. For example, it could investigate the behavior of quickly changing magnetic fields in molecular-scale memory devices that promise to store more information than before.
The researchers spent six years inventing and developing their beam chopper and have received several patents and an R&D 100 Award for their work. Co-authors in the work included Brookhaven National Laboratory in Upton, New York, and Euclid Techlabs in Bolingbrook, Illinois.
One of the things that makes Lau most proud is that their design can breathe new life into any TEM, including the 25-year-old unit that performed the latest demonstration. The NIST design gives labs everywhere the potential to use their microscopes to capture important fast-moving processes in tomorrow’s materials.
“Democratizing science was the whole motivation,” Lau said.
Explore further
Small high-voltage transmission electron microscope built in Japan
More information: June W. Lau et al, Laser-free GHz stroboscopic transmission electron microscope: Components, system integration, and practical considerations for pump–probe measurements, Review of Scientific Instruments (2020). DOI: 10.1063/1.5131758
Provided by National Institute of Standards and Technology
Citation: A simple retrofit transforms electron microscopes into high-speed atom-scale cameras (2020, February 24) retrieved 24 February 2020 from https://phys.org/news/2020-02-simple-retrofit-electron-microscopes-high-speed.html
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#Physics
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Congress Wants to Force Trump’s Hand on Human Rights in China and Beyond https://nyti.ms/3630SdZ
Congress Wants to Force Trump’s Hand on Human Rights in China and Beyond(This speaks volumes about the current occupant of the White House when you have to force his hand on human rights and basic human decency!!)
Lawmakers aim to pass veto-proof legislation in 2020 that would punish China over its treatment of ethnic Uighur Muslims.
By Edward Wong and Catie Edmondson | Published Dec. 27, 2019 Updated 3:54 PM ET | New York Times | Posted December 27, 2019 |
WASHINGTON — In a rare show of bipartisan unity, Republicans and Democrats are planning to try to force President Trump to take a more active stand on human rights in China, preparing veto-proof legislation that would punish top Chinese officials for detaining more than one million Muslims in internment camps.
The effort comes amid growing congressional frustration with Mr. Trump’s unwillingness to challenge China over human rights abuses, despite vivid news reports this year outlining atrocities, or to confront such issues globally.
To press Mr. Trump into action on China, lawmakers plan to move ahead with legislation that would punish Beijing for its repression of ethnic Uighur Muslims, with enough supporters to compel the president to sign or risk being overruled by Congress ahead of the 2020 election. A version of the legislation, known as the Uighur Human Rights Policy Act, passed both the House and Senate this year, but its path to the White House was stalled this month by a procedural process.
Human rights causes draw rare bipartisan support in Congress, and many Republican lawmakers have broken from Mr. Trump on the matter, even as they move in lock step with the president on nearly every other issue, including defending him against impeachment.
“There’s been a sense by some that the administration hasn’t prioritized human rights in its broader foreign policy,” said Senator Marco Rubio, Republican of Florida. “I don’t think that’s necessarily accurate — but that sense has grown. There’s been a sense that Congress needs to step up.”
Last month, Congress passed legislation by unanimous consent supporting the Hong Kong protests, forcing Mr. Trump to sign the bill. Mr. Trump, who had previously said he was “standing with” Xi Jinping, the Chinese leader, risked being overruled by Congress and criticized as weak on China if he vetoed the measure. Still, when Mr. Trump signed the bill the night before Thanksgiving, he issued a statement saying he would “exercise executive discretion” in enforcing its provisions.
Lawmakers this year also passed legislation recognizing the 1915 killings of an estimated 1.5 million Armenians as a genocide over the objections of Mr. Trump. And they approved a resolution calling for the end of American military support of the war in Yemen, in which a Saudi Arabia-led coalition is bombing civilians. Mr. Trump vetoed the measure.
In October, after Mr. Trump withdrew American forces just inside Syria’s border, paving the way for a Turkish military operation against Kurdish forces, lawmakers voted to rebuke the administration for the decision and show support for the Kurds, a persecuted group in the Middle East that has fought with American troops against the Islamic State.
In the coming months, Congress is expected to try to pass legislation that would punish Turkey and Saudi Arabia for human rights abuses, though it is unclear whether those efforts would have a veto-proof majority. The effort includes a package of Turkey sanctions sponsored by Senator Robert Menendez, Democrat of New Jersey, and Senator Lindsey Graham, Republican of South Carolina. The legislation, which would penalize those who commit human rights abuses in Syria, was approved by the Senate Foreign Relations Committee in December.
Some human rights issues draw greater bipartisan support than others. China hawks have become ascendant across Congress and in the administration, and many Americans increasingly see China as a threat.
Although Vice President Mike Pence and Secretary of State Mike Pompeo have criticized China on the persecution of Muslims, Mr. Trump has said nothing. In July, Jewher Ilham, the daughter of Ilham Tohti, a Uighur professor whom China sentenced to life in prison in 2014, joined other victims of religious persecution to meet with Mr. Trump in the Oval Office. When she tried to explain the camps to Mr. Trump, he appeared ignorant of the situation and simply said, “That’s tough stuff.”
“It’s hard to find evidence of genuine personal interest,” said Sophie Richardson, China director at Human Rights Watch. “On China, at a minimum, President Trump should stop describing an authoritarian, abusive leader as a ‘terrific guy’; doing so gives Chinese authorities the opportunity to choose between that characterization and the far tougher ones offered up by other senior U.S. officials.”
Mr. Trump, who has criticized China over its economic practices, has refrained from imposing sanctions on Chinese officials responsible for the camps for fear of jeopardizing the chances of reaching a trade deal. Many top aides and lawmakers from both parties have pushed for sanctions, but the Treasury Department has opposed the penalties. The Uighur act, which had Mr. Rubio and Representative Christopher H. Smith, Republican of New Jersey, as sponsors, would compel Mr. Trump to impose sanctions on Chen Quanguo, the top Communist Party official in Xinjiang, where the camps are.
In October, the Trump administration placed a few Chinese businesses and security organizations on a commercial blacklist because of their suspected roles in Muslim abuses, but many analysts considered that a weak punishment.
Other countries are more complicated. Saudi Arabia has been a traditional American ally, and Iran hawks in Congress, who are generally Republican, argue Riyadh is a regional bulwark against Tehran. And Mr. Trump’s positive declarations about President Vladimir V. Putin of Russia have spurred a gradual shift from the anti-Russia views previously held by Republican politicians, conservative voters and right-wing news organizations.
Mr. Trump expresses open admiration for many authoritarian leaders, even those condemned by senior officials in his own administration for some of the world’s worst atrocities. They include Mr. Xi, Mr. Putin, Kim Jong-un, the leader of North Korea, Mohammed bin Salman, the crown prince of Saudi Arabia, President Recep Tayyip Erdogan of Turkey, President Abdel Fattah el-Sisi of Egypt, Prime Minister Viktor Orban of Hungary, and President Jair Bolsonaro of Brazil.
“He’s celebrating the leaders who are the worst human rights abusers,” Senator Christopher S. Murphy, Democrat of Connecticut, said in an interview. “It almost seems like the president’s support for you is directly proportional to how brutal you are to your citizenry.”
This month, the Trump administration blocked a move by members of the United Nations Security Council to discuss the human rights situation in North Korea for the second year in a row. Mr. Trump has expressed warmth for Mr. Kim of North Korea and has engaged in personal diplomacy, meeting him at two summits to try, without success, to end North Korea’s nuclear weapons program.
“The Trump administration has sent a clear message to Pyongyang and to the rest of the world that this administration doesn’t consider starvation, torture, summary executions and a host of other crimes to be a priority,” said Louis Charbonneau, United Nations director at Human Rights Watch.
On other prominent issues this year, Mr. Trump used his executive power to reject measures that would have either punished countries for human rights abuses or simply affirmed the abuses were happening.
Mr. Trump vetoed a bipartisan resolution that would have punished Saudi Arabia for its air war in Yemen and the killing of Jamal Khashoggi, a Washington Post columnist and permanent resident of the United States. Mr. Khashoggi’s death last year — a grisly killing that American intelligence officials have said was ordered by Prince Mohammed — reignited a long-simmering effort among a small group of lawmakers to cut off American support for the Saudi-led bombings in Yemen that have helped create the world’s worst man-made humanitarian crisis.
Four of the six vetoes Mr. Trump has issued in his presidency overturned legislative attempts to penalize the kingdom. In May, Mr. Trump and Mr. Pompeo sparked bipartisan fury by declaring an emergency over Iran that allowed the United States to sell weapons to Saudi Arabia, the United Arab Emirates and Jordan, bypassing a congressional hold on the sales. This fall, in closed door negotiations, the White House blocked similar language from making it into the final version of the annual defense policy bill, a must-pass package of legislation.
“I’m a big fan of the president on many fronts, but on this, someone has to stand up,” Senator Rand Paul, Republican of Kentucky and a proponent of withdrawing the United States from wars, said in a floor speech in June before voting to cut off arms sales to the kingdom.
In another recent instance that privately confounded Republican lawmakers, the White House recruited multiple Republican senators to block attempts to pass legislation formally recognizing the Armenian genocide. The administration argued the timing of the bill would upend diplomatic relations with Turkey, including when Mr. Trump received Mr. Erdogan at the White House in November. Mr. Trump insisted on holding that meeting over the objections of some Republicans who have criticized Turkey, a NATO ally, for attacking the Kurds in Syria.
The legislation finally passed this month, days after the Senate advanced a package of sanctions related to Mr. Erdogan’s invasion of northern Syria and his purchase of a sophisticated Russian surface-to-air missile system.
#trumpism#trump scandals#trump administration#president donald trump#donald trump jr#ivanka trump#trump news#trump#crimes against humanity#human rights#humanrights#no china extradition#china news#china#uighur#uighurs#detention#internment camps#u.s. news#politics#us politics#politics and government#republican politics
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