#then I have a question for you: blue mountains or fair waters?

[randomgurustuffs]

TMI Tuesday

[Insert cool graphic here] Ask away!

[throneofsmut]

Bound In Flames - Part 9

Eris Vanserra × Archeron-Sister-Reader || WC: 3.4k || Warnings: Mentions of Death and Trauma

Summary: Feyre and her younger sister go hunting in the forest behind their family's cottage and go through life changing experiences.

****

You didn’t realize you had fallen asleep, but it couldn’t have been for long because from the window in Eris’s cabin—your cabin—you could still see the night sky and lit bonfires in the distance. You were still in the same position you were in when you had finished fucking.

You on top of him with him still inside of you.

Eris still had a hand on your hip while the other rubbed lazily across your back.

Slowly pushing up, your hands braced against his muscular chest, “How long was I asleep?” you whispered, your voice still thick with sleep.

He didn’t respond, he only gave you a small smile and continued to rub his hands along your thighs.

“How long was I asleep?” You asked again, and noticed a hint of red in his cheeks. “You were asleep too?”

Eris let out a small laugh, “Until you started squirming trying to get more comfortable.”

You let out a small laugh of your own, “Sorry.”

“Don’t be. You can go back to sleep if you want. I’ll wake you up before I go back.” Something like anger and pain seemed to flash across his face, his eyes, at the last four words he spoke.

“Before you go back. . . Under the Mountain?”

He nods. Once. Tightly.

Your hands cupped his face, making him meet your gaze, “I don’t want to sleep then. Let’s spend our last night together.”

Those amber eyes, his eyes, searched your face, for what you don’t know, but then he was kissing you. Wordlessly he pulled away and then he was carrying you to the bathroom and sat you atop the counter.

Watching him as he filled the tub with water, added soaps and oils to it. Then he grabbed bottles of hair products and towels before setting them on the chair near the tub then carried you to the tub and placed you in it. He followed in right after and silently washed your hair and skin. Placing soft kisses as he went and you did the same for him. When you were done he dried you both off and then you dressed.

You were waiting for him to finish lacing up his boots when he caught you yawning, “Are you sure you don’t want to sleep, little flame?”

“I’m sure,” you nod. “Do you have any food here? I’m starving.”

“No, but, there is an orange grove and grape vineyard a mile back.”

You arch a brow, “What kind of grapes?”

“Green.”

“Autumn or Spring?”

“Autumn,” he smirks, “why?”

“I haven’t had Autumn grapes in years and they’re my favorite.”

He laughs softly, “So, no, oranges?”

“I mean, I love oranges too, but I don’t want to peel them. I hate how my hands feel after. And Autumn grapes are always crispy.”

He walks up to you, placing his hands on your hips, “I’ll peel them for you.”

But before you get a chance to respond he leads you out of the cabin and the crisp autumn night breeze hits your face. Eris puts his arm over your shoulders, tucking you into him and one of your hand fists the back of his tunic as if he’ll vanish. As he leads you down a trail, towards the vineyard and grove.

“So your favorite color is blue and autumn green grapes are your favorite, you love oranges. . . What else?” Eris asks.

“What do you want to know?”

“Anything. Everything.”

“I don’t know anything about you. So how about a question for a question ?” You offer.

“All right, fair enough.”

“What’s your favorite color?” you ask.

“Red.”

You snort, “That’s not surprising.”

“Family?” He asks.

“My mother died when I was young and my father doesn’t know about me. . . at least he acts like he doesn’t.”

Your mate leans down and places another kiss atop your head, “I’m sorry, little flame.”

“Me too,” you whisper. “Anyways, what about you?”

“My mother and father are both still alive. No sisters. Six younger brothers, but two died years ago.”

“Lucien told me about that. Where you. . . one of the ones—“

“One of the ones holding him down while his lover was executed? No.” He looks over his shoulder, “Who do you think got word to Tamlin and slowed down my other brothers?”

“Does Lucien know?” you ask softly.

“If he does, he doesn’t show it.” He answers. “What about you, any siblings?”

“No,” you breathe. “But, after my mother died, another family took me in and they already had three daughters. They became my family or the closest thing I had to one. The three of them were like my sisters—they are my sisters.”

“Older or younger?”

“All older.”

“Are you close with them?”

“Uh, no, not really. Just with the youngest one out of the three. The two oldest ones were closer to each other and the third one and I were closer.” You confess and some part of you wishes you had tried more to get along with Nesta and Elain. To get closer. Since you might not have the chance to later. “What about you and your brothers? Are you close with them?”

Eris lets out a bitter laugh, “Gods, no. When we were younger I tried to protect them from our father, before he could turn them into cruel, sick bastards—“

“Like him?” You finish for him.

“Like him,” he nods. “Then when we got older, I had to keep them in check,” another bitter laugh, “while playing the cold, cruel and calculating heir of autumn.” He stops. Then moves to stand in front of you and struggles to meet your eyes. “You’re going to hear things about me, if you haven’t already and—“

“I’ve done things too,” you tell him. “And I’m going to do more.”

You’ve already made your peace with doing whatever you have to do to kill Amarantha and those who get in your way. For your mother, for the summer court faerie, for Lucien and anyone else she’s hurt. And for you.

“What are you talking about. . . what have you done ?” His large hands cup your face, tilting your head up, making you look at him. “Talk to me. . . please,” he says. Softly. Gently.

“We become monsters, to survive monsters.” You say deathly soft and Eris’s brows furrow as he searches your face for more answers, but it’s too late. You’ve already put on the cold mask you’ve worn for years.

“What happened? What have you d— What are you going to do?”

You shook your head, “I won’t ask you what you’ve done or what you’ll do and neither should you.” You hardly recognize your own voice. Except for the coldness of it. The sharpness of it.

Eris let go of your face and took one, two, three steps back. Away from you. Then he runs his right hand through his hair before covering his mouth with the back of it. He lets out a shaky breath, “Do you not trust me—did I do something?”

As soon as the words leave his mouth, you look at him. Really look at him and realize that his hands are shaking, his heart is racing and his breathing is uneven.

He’s nervous. Scared.

Scared of what you’ll say and the fact that you haven’t said anything is only making it worse. You blink once and you can see yourself through his eyes. Your head is cocked in a way that is more animalistic than anything. Like a predator sizing up its prey. You blinked again and now you’re looking at him through your own eyes again.

Shaking your head, “No, Eris, you haven’t done anything.” You tell him, hoping to soothe his nerves.

He lets out a sharp breath. His hands have stopped shaking and his heart isn’t racing anymore. “So you don’t trust me.” He’s says it more to himself than to you.

“I never said that.”

“Then what is it?” He says feigning nonchalance, but you can still hear the doubt lacing his words.

“There’s no point in me telling you, when you’ll see it,” you admit.

He prowled closer to you until you were chest to chest, needing to crane your neck back to look him in the eyes because of your height difference. You forgot how tall he was—how powerfully built he was.

A muscle in his jaw feathered before he spoke, “If you’re not going to tell me what you’re talking about, then tell me something real.” Not a request, a command.

“I’m scared,” you whisper. His brows furrow and his eyes widen, that wasn’t at all what he had expected you to say. “I’m scared of how you’ll feel when you find out about the real me. . . When you see the real me. Who I am.”

It’s no secret that none of the seven courts are really friends, but your mother used to tell you about how feared she and her brother were. Her twin. He is the most powerful High Lord in history and she is—was—the most powerful female in history. And how feared their inner circle is.

Your mother was second in command to her brother. His third in command is more powerful than them but her power is different. Otherworldly. Their cousin is his fourth and she has the power of truth. The general of his armies and his spymaster are the most powerful Illyrian’s in history. Each needing seven siphons to hold the raw killing power they possess. And his spymaster is also a shadowsinger.

You inherited your mother and her brother’s magic and then some from your father, but you had also been born with the power of fire. You used to ask her why you had fire and she didn’t, if she was from Night and my father wasn’t from Autumn or the Day Court. And she would simply kiss the palms of your hands and say, “Is the sun not a star.”

She always told you, you were blessed by the Mother and the Cauldron for having so much power. But, as you got older you realized she said that because you’d been born with a target on your back. Which was why she trained you the way she did.

You let out a few sharp breaths, trying to will away the tears pooling in your eyes, to no avail. “When you find out what I did and. . . what I’m going to do. What I can do. What I will do.” Your throat working as you spoke your last fear, eyes squeezing shut, “I’m scared that you’ll die because of me. Just for being my mate. . . and I won’t be able to do anything about.”

Your eyes are still squeezed shut as you feel Eris gently, so gently, tuck your hair behind your now rounded ears. His fingers tracing the rounded curve of them so softly. And it’s all you can do to not flinch beneath his touch.

You hadn’t realized you were holding your breath until he whispered, “The real you. . . the real you, that has pointed ears.”

Not exactly a question, but you nodded your head anyways.

“Can you show me?” His voice was gentle like his touch had been moments ago.

You shake your head, “Even if I wanted to, I can’t.”

“Can you tell me, why?”

“It’s a blood spell.” Your voice was barely audible, you only knew he heard you because of how close we were. “My mother made it so that only someone on her side of the family could undo it. I can’t do it.” You left out the part that there’s only one person alive in the entire world that could do it and you don’t even know if he would do it. “I can show you my true form for a couple seconds, but the. . .“ Your voice trailed off as you remembered how much pain you felt when you showed yourself to Raihn. How it intensified until it was all you knew. Until it nearly killed you.

“But, what?”

Eris’s voice brought you back to the present and you shook your head, “But, the pain I’d feel, would be all consuming. Searing. So hot that it felt impossibly cold, until it killed me. . . I’ve only done it once before and was surprised I survived. I doubt I would survive it a second time.”

The only reason you survived then was because Raihn had channeled some of his power into you. And continued throughout the next couple days. Since the blood spell suppresses your powers. You can only feel that you still have your magic—barely—but you can’t access it. Except for one, but it’s not much. It feels like a drop instead of a vast ocean like it used to.

“Why are you scared of how I’ll feel when I see you? Did the blood spell affect your physical appearance?” Eris asked.

You nodded your head, “I still look the same, but my coloring is different. This isn’t my true hair or eye color.”

“Do your sisters know?”

“No,” you breathed, “and they’d probably hate me. For lying and being fae.”

“Look at me.”

You shook your head.

“Little flame, look at me.” His voice a plea and prayer.

So you did.

“Because you told me something real, I’ll tell you something real,” his throat bobbing, “You're capable of hurting me in ways I'm not sure you've even begun to fathom. I might be skilled enough to land a death blow, but you alone have the power to fucking destroy me. And I would let you because you are everything to me. Do you understand that ?” His voice raw with emotion.

“Yes,” you said softly.

You didn’t even realize you had started crying again until Eris was wiping them away. “I don’t care who you are or what you’ve done, you’re my mate. Mine.”

You had no more words for him—your eyes saying what you couldn’t put into words. A new sort of vulnerability as you laid yourself bare for him. Eris. My mate. Mine. A challenge thrown down. Waiting to see how he would react.

Eris Pov:

How many others had run from this part of her, not being able to handle all that she is? I hated them all merely for putting the question in her eyes.

I love her as she is. All that she is.

I wouldn’t run from her. No, I only met her stare as I let her see all of me too. Her throat bobbed before her lips curved up into a smirk. My eyes falling to her lips, tracking the movement and then back up to her eyes. Without even thinking my hands settled on her hips, her cheeks flushing from my touch, her pupils flaring.

I see you, I silently conveyed to her. And I like all of it.

Likewise, her smirk seemed to say.

Dragging my eyes from the smirk that made the floor a little uneven. I gripped her hips a little tighter with hands that were surprisingly shaky. Then my mouth was on hers. Claiming her.

I begrudgingly pulled away from her when my stomach growled, quietly cursing myself while she laughed at me. “Come on, let’s get the grapes and oranges.”

****

Reader POV:

Eris winnowed you back to the cabin, his arms full of grapes and oranges along two plates piled with meat and sauce and bread, and a bottle of red sparkling wine—he said he would hold it all.

Eris was hesitant to take it, but Bayne—the owner of the vineyard and orange grove—insisted. You were the one that had knocked on his door. The last time you saw him you were eight years old, yet something like recognition flared in his eyes when he took you in. It took him a moment to respond when you asked if you could pick some grapes and oranges, but he said yes and went back into his home. So Eris and you went about picking them when he came out with two plates in hand. Startling when he saw you were with Eris.

It didn’t help that, Eris immediately stood between you. Walking around him, to hand Bayne a few gold coins—more than what was needed—but he had always been kind to you and your mother. He politely declined and insisted you take the plates. Bowing your head in thanks and took them, Eris’s voice cut between your silent interaction. “Why?” he asked.

Bayne never took his eyes off you as he said sadly, “She reminds me of someone. . . of an old friend who passed a few years ago.” An old friend—your mother.

Eris didn’t say anything else as you handed him the two plates you were holding and placed the gold coins in his hand and thanked him again. Then Eris winnowed you back to the cabin. And you both ate your plates in comfortable silence. You sat atop the kitchen counter and he remained standing, next to you.

He finished his plate before you did and kept true to his word. He silently went about rinsing the grapes and peeling oranges before plating them between you. And once you finished your plate, he took it and washed it, before pushing the plate of fruit closer to you. Moaning at the taste of them and he laughed softly. “Good?”

“So fucking good.” You said around a mouthful of orange, which earned you another mirthy laugh from him.

****

You had moved back to the bedroom, your head settled on his chest, his hand playing with your hair as the other rested on the small of your back.

Huffing as you looked out the window.

“What’s wrong, little flame,” he asked.

“It’s almost dawn,” you grumbled. Which meant it was almost time for him to go back Under the Mountain.

He kissed the top of your head, “We’ll see each other again. Soon.” He promised.

And he had no idea how true that was.

But, right now, you wanted him. No, needed him. You needed him. To feel him, incase you wouldn’t have the chance to again.

He didn’t stop you as you moved to straddle him. Not as you pulled at his tunic—a silent request for him to take it off, and he did. He didn’t say anything as you leaned down, kissing his lips, his neck, his chest. The only thing you heard was his heart pounding, when your fingers lightly skimmed where his skin and his pants met. You weren’t sure he was breathing and just to see what he’d do, you palmed him through his pants.

Eris barked a curse.

You laughed quietly, kissing his chest again, and then swirled your tongue around his nipple, teasingly, letting him know what was to come.

And when you laid your palm flat on him again, “You’re mine,” you breathed.

Eris’s breathing started again, jagged and savage. Feral. You flicked open the top button of his pants. “I’m yours,” he ground out.

Another button popped free. Then the third, but then you felt him before you heard him.

Raihn.

It’s nearly dawn, his deep gruff voice sounded in your head. He was pissed and now so were you.

You growled and Eris just stared at you confused. Shaking your head at him and before you could tell Raihn to go back to the Manor, his growl shook the entire cabin and seconds later he had broke down the door and was in the bedroom. Snarling and baring his teeth.

It was all Eris could do to put you between him and the wall. His body a solid wall between you and the white wolf. Raihn’s eyes fell to the dagger Eris was clutching, his knuckles white from the grip. Then the wolf’s eyes tracked the hand Eris had placed on you protectively. Raihn cocked his head, his snout twitching once, twice, scenting us. Scenting Eris and he growled, baring his teeth in a snarl.

Eris readied himself for the massive wolf’s attack, but before he could do anything you snarled at Raihn, “I’m gonna kill you!” Raihn only growled in response.

Trying to make your way to him, but Eris was holding you back, Raihn noticed and took a step forward. He snapped at Eris in warning and Eris to his credit didn’t falter, he only readjusted his grip on his dagger. You rolled your eyes, pushing past Eris, standing right in front of Raihn, “I’m gonna kill you!” Pinching the bridge of your nose, “I told you to stay in my room, you know it’s not safe out here for you. They’re hunting you!”

He let out an annoyed huff.

“And you can’t just barge in like that, where are your manners ?” You said scolding him like a mother would a child—your hands now on your hips—and he whined. You turned back to look at Eris, still shaking your head at Raihn, and he—Eris— was just gaping at you.

For other parts: Bound In Flames Series Masterlist

part 1 part 2 part 3 part 4 part 5 part 6 part 7 part 8 part 10 part 11 part 12

Taglist: @historygeekqueen @cat-or-kitten @yeeyeebabe @khaleesihavilliard @impossibelle @sleepylunarwolf @cutie232 @meepmeep-318 @belledawnidk @fandomrejects @wasntpriscilla @brandywineeeee @consultinghuntresshasthetardis @thescooby-gang @annblvd @poetryinshadows @isa1b2h3 @tele86 @esposadomd @fabulouslyflamboyant5 @glaciuswduo @laceandsuch @hnyclover @spookyboogyuniverse @kennedy-brooke @minaethrym @lili-flower03

*If you would like to be added to the taglist for this story or to my general taglist, please either reply to this post or send me a message.

[a1sh1teruu]

— STUCK IN SUMMER

— oh, how we love it when the warm sun finally peaks over the clouds, how it warms our skin and has the meadows blooming. how the waters sparkle and shine, the blues, the yellows, all these different colors embracing each other. some of us like a relaxing time in the mountains, getting carried away by the cold, rippling rivers. some of us like it at the coast, near the sea, listening to the waves and the smell of sea salt just wafting through the air. but what happens if those same waves pull us down into a different world, into a more complex world than ours?

welcome to my summer collaboration! now that summer stands on our doorstep, i've decided to host a collaboration to all our fanfiction writers.

what is this collab about?

this collab is all about fantasy and summer! we dive deeper into our fantasies we have in the summertime.

what are the requirements for our writing?

the fic you are writing has to be over one thousand words long and it has to be a fantasy au set in summer.

what fandoms can join?

everyone who writes fanfiction can join!

nsfw or sfw?

as long as you tag everything and put a “read more” divider, than you should be good with darker content too!

the rules:

i do not want to see anything racist, homophobic, islamophobic, xenophobic, ableist, or anything offening towards the people that join! as soon as i see something offending towards someone or a group of people, you will be terminated from this collaboration.

do you have any questions?

for any type of questions, you can dm me! i’ll make a discord server if enough people decide to join, though.

timetable

status : closed

closes : 30.06.2023

deadline : 21.09.2023

application

masterlist

K-POP

— ATEEZ

j.wy — in the heart of the sky by @a1sh1teruu synopsis: the lands of utopia, gifted by the light of mother, were a well balanced realm. undisturbed by the curse of the children of adam and eve. but what happens if the son of adam is born into those precious lands, throwing off the balance mother has created and gifted her children with?

p.sh — utopia by @jaehunnyy synopsis: when the aurora kingdom is in need of help regarding the princess’ fate, all they can do is wait for the chosen one. when seonghwa falls in an abandoned well and wakes up in aurora kingdom, he is intrigued by what he finds out there. can he help the princess, is he the one they were all waiting for, or is it too late for the girl?

c.sn — all's fair in love and war by @justhere4kpop synopsis: your parents left you their beach house when they moved out of the country. you and the neighbor boy always had a strange friendship growing up from the pranks to him standing up for you against beach bullies. it always felt like something was missing while you were away. maybe this is the year for a budding summer romance with the hot neighbor... or maybe this is just a burnt out brain hoping for something more.

k.hj — dreamers by @nebulousbrainsoup synopsis: since infancy, every night has been a gamble for both you and your family. plagued by nightmares that leave you unresponsive for their duration, your only solace is the boy you share them with.

c.sn — precious by @pocketjoong synopsis: as a nature witch, you always wanted your own familiar ever since you were a kid, however, fate seemed to have different plans for you.

c.jh — blue summer by @woosluv synopsis: none yet

k.ys — like a dream by @i-luvsang synopsis: to be whisked away to your estranged grandmother’s house is no where near what you could have hoped for this summer. but you find the countryside beautiful, and the boy in the forest more entrancing than anything at all. instead of the nightmare you expected, you find yourself in a wondrous dream that’s made up of a magical romance, far more literal than you could have ever imagined.

s.mg — cromer by @star1117-archives synopsis: not all imaginary friends let you leave as you grow up. Some refuse to be left in the past, and won’t take being forgotten as lightly as expected.

multi — ocean's envy by @neoteezrenyoung synopsis: after several years, young witch y/n finally goes back to her small coastal town with her license to practice in hand. when she comes back, nothing has changed. except for her two best friends’ attitudes.

— ZEROBASEONE

zhanghao — unbreakable love by @bobariki synopsis: within the parameters of a society where the stars align for only a select few to find their twin flame, your plan for a month-long summer vacation visit to your best friend suddenly veers off course. what unfolds when unmistakable signs hint that you might just be one of the fortunate few?

— TOMMOROW BY TOGETHER

c.bg — the boy behind the blue windows by @impuritywritings synopsis: none yet

h.k — eternal sunshine by @gyumibear synopsis: while on a school trip, the reader accidentally comes across a secret race of merpeople. they want to force her to stay quiet, but one boy helps her get away. he's also her soulmate?

k.th — untitled by @choistick synopsis: none yet

— STRAY KIDS

h.hj — untitled by @svngcore synopsis: none yet

ANIME

— HAIKYU!!

iwaizumi hajime — conjuring romance by @valeriwa synopsis: you were pretty sure the first lesson you learnt in hogwarts was that you couldn't conjure people. so why is it that an incredibly handsome man is standing in front of you when all you wanted was some innocent snow? the sweltering summer heat and feeling like victor frankenstein has got all your plans in a twist.

[ultramagicalternate]

ULTRAMagic Chaos Chapter 7

Previous | First | Next

Master Post - Patreon

Ealdhelm gathered everyone the next day to explain his plan of action. His idea was to address each god one by one. An all out attack was a fool’s errand and the arbiters needed to maintain the appearance that they were continuing the stalemate. Teams would be sent out to confront each god in question. Up first was Kelitos, the god of knowledge, learning, research, organization, and philosophy. He was the least likely to start a fight and most open to diplomacy.

The first team to be sent out was Tusk, Razor, Mizuki, and Maxima. Dragutin and Mayhem would keep watch from the skies. Kleitos’ realm was rocky and mountainous, darted with rain and flowing rivers. Many archives, libraries, and museums were all over the place. Despite them being reasonably spaced out, a simple day’s walk would allow them to be reached with ease. Moving past a rather large library, the group observed the intricate architecture and eerie lighting that invoked Kleitos himself.

“Kleitos seems to be pretty proud of himself” Razor pointed out as the rain fell on the group.

“Wouldn’t you do the same if you were a Discordant God?” Maxima asked.

Razor steadily nodded. “Fair enough.”

“While certainly impressive, we need to get to his castle” Tusk pointed out, unphased by the rain.

“I admire your fortitude, Tusk,” Mizuki complimented. “I was never big on rain.”

He chuckled, as the nuance of being a tree was lost on her. “While I’m intent on completing this task, I’m used to rain. As an aside, I think being a tree for so long made me prefer ground water to regular water.”

Pressing on, the group temporarily entered an archive to dry off. It was fairly busy, with archivists moving all over the place. Some looked like regular humans while others were old and decrepit. They all wore blue and gold robes, befitting of their roles. The archivist at the entrance went to greet the group. He looked incredibly ancient, but seemed just as lively as the others.

“Welcome, travelers. Have you come to partake in the vast wealth of knowledge bestowed upon us by Lord Kleitos?” The archivist’s voice was well aged, almost sounding like he was wheezing his words.

“Don’t mind us, we just needed to get out of the rain for a moment” Maxima replied.

The archivist quickly realized who he was talking to. “Ah, I see. Then you may rest before your audience with our lord.”

Tusk tapped Razor’s arm. “So much for the element of surprise, ha.”

“I must ask if that mage over there is with you by any chance?” The archivist pointed to the extravagantly dressed mage, who was at a table, reading and laughing in a slightly unhinged manner.

“While he did heed Ealdhelm’s call, he’s not with us” Tusk answered. “Hey, where’s all of the women that were following him?”

“We sent them off to Delphine’s realm as they were fairly vain and narcissistic. They had no place here, save for one who desired to study.”

An attractive yet modest, blonde haired woman walked over, carrying a rather old book. “Master Aeron? I couldn’t find where this book on swordsmanship should go.”

Aeron inspected the tome. “Fret not, Helga. It appears we have something foreign to our vast collection.”

Helga then noticed the guests. “Hi there, welcome to the Northwind Archive!”

Tusk shook her hand. “Nice to meet you. How’s glitter cape doing?”

She sighed. “I think he may have lost his mind a bit. I was hoping to get some insight from him, but I guess not. After learning who he truly was, Master Aeron and I agreed he should just stay there and read. I’ve been giving him a steady supply of books to keep him occupied.”

“Well one less Milosh lackey the better” Tusk remarked. “Sorry for the trouble, Master Aeron.”

He raised his hand to quell the treeman’s worry. “It’s better that he’s in here reading rather than causing trouble outside. It may take a long time, but he’ll reach enlightenment eventually.”

“This place is a lot more orderly than I figured it would be,” Mizuki observed.

Aeron laughed. “It is the irony of the Cosmos, my dear. The Realm of Chaos is content with itself and needs order to define its existence. Purgatory, on the other hand, obsesses with order to such an extreme degree that it becomes the antithesis of itself.”

Helga took the group to a lounge where they could sit until the rain passed. As she gathered some food and drink for them, she mentioned how a part of her wanted to go with the other women to Delphine’s realm. The newly appointed archivist had a wild side that wanted to do nothing but pleasure herself. Ultimately her quest for knowledge won out in the end.

“I still want to be sealed in one of those sleek bodysuits Delphine dresses some of her servants in…” Helga noticed she was getting distracted. “For the looks and duty, not anything else.”

Maxima chuckled. “I can relate. I was full of untamed energy before I became a Spiritus Magni. I heard Vita was the same way too. My advice? Study first, then have fun.”

“I take it you’re single, aren’t you, Helga?” Tusk asked.

“Well, yes…”

“That’s all I needed to hear.”

“Tusk, how do you know this stuff?” Razor wondered.

He ate some of his food and cleared his throat. “Everyone has specific behaviors that give away their nature. You just have to pay attention. People who are single or unfulfilled have a dash of desperation in their lives. They look for satisfaction wherever they can get it and are not picky. Me? I don’t need to do that as I have Donia and she has me.”

Helga then had a realization. “I mean, I’ve always wanted a man of my own, but I was too much of a nerd to get one…”

“Nonsense!” Tusk immediately replied. “Men love smart, pretty women. Not to toot Donia’s horn…”

She blushed a little. “Oh, why thank you…”

“Helga, your best bet is to be true to yourself. You choose to stay and study and I think that says a lot about you. The fact that you didn’t go off with the other’s to Delphine’s realm means you were meant to be here. Find that special someone and you’ll be vastly more happy in life.” That last part stuck with Mizuki without Tusk even realizing it.

Helga paused for a second. “Well, there is a really cute archivist named Cadogan who works with alchemical manuscripts and occult artifacts…”

“Then go up and talk to him,” Maxima encouraged. “What’s the worst that could happen?”

After taking another second to think about it, Helga slapped her fist into her hand. “You know what? You’re right! Albeit I need to tend to all of you first.”

The group took a moment to discuss what they were up to to Helga. She was not sure how to handle it, but Tusk and his cohorts seemed like nice people. Helga explained that she was actually Helga Gerturde Arlotti, a descendant of Sir Gideon Arlotti. Her Great Aunt Gratiana had asked her to go to the Realm of Chaos somewhat recently to see if she could find something that could help knock Milosh off of his high horse, if not get rid of him outright. Suffice it to say that Helga was having trouble with that task.

“Don’t worry, Helga,” Tusk assured. “Barna and Dunja are on the case. They’ll be heading to Shadowland soon enough.”

She was quite surprised by this. “Goodness, Dunja has changed sides?”

Tusk nodded. “She’s back where she belongs. Truthfully I was wondering when she’d say screw Milosh. Occasionally she sat under me back when I was in my tree phase. I couldn’t sense a single bad bone in her, despite the disaster and a half that was the shadow orb.”

There was a pause, so Mizuki spoke. “Helga, how do you feel about us going to confront your lord? I just figured I’d ask since we’ve been so open about it?”

She took a breath and thought about it. “Well, you four aren’t rampaging through the realm, so that’s a good start. Lord Kleitos has been incredibly gracious so far, but I am curious to see where this goes.”

“I’d imagine he’s not looking for a fight, given his nature. We probably can’t say the same for Wulfric if what Eladhelm told us holds true.”

“Master Aeron has informed me about the current conflict. He doesn’t think it’s worth it and feels the Discordant Gods should be working with the arbiters.”

Tusk tapped Razor’s arm again. “Just as a heads up, I think Driskoll is going to be the only other one in the same probable boat as Kleitos.”

“Duly noted, Tusk. I was kind of hoping for some action, but I don’t mind something easy, like this.”

Helga looked a little nervous. “I wouldn’t be so sure of that. Magus Percival is undoubtedly looking for all of you.”

“Percival?”

“Kleitos’ champion, Remember?” Maxima reminded him.

“Oops, right, sorry” said Razor. “This realm has my mind all over the place.”

As much as Tusk and Maxima would have liked to keep talking, they needed to get going. Helga went and acquired a map for the four, with the hopes that they could avoid Percival. Master Aeron saw them off. As thanks for their excellent manners, he gave Mizuki the swordsmanship book. She accepted it with a respectful bow and the group was on their way again.

The rain had cleared up and the sun was shining off the puddles and drops, causing them to glisten. A rainbow could even be seen, despite the lack of rain. Tusk was a bit skeptical of this sudden peace. It was almost like they were being expected and invited. Kleitos most likely knew they were there, so it was Percival that held Tusk’s concern.

“It’s too quiet…”

“You think so, Tusk?” Razor questioned.

Tusk frowned at him, disappointed. “Boy, aren't you supposed to be a wolf?”

“Right! On it!” Razor assumed his wolf form and sniffed about. He quickly whined and returned to his humanoid form. “You’re right, something’s off…”

“Well let’s not panic, we’re nearly there” Maxima said as she pointed ahead.

Tusk snapped his fingers a few times. “How does the line go? Let’s figure out what we’re dealing with, then we’ll panic?”

Mizuki laughed. “Well that’s an interesting way to look at it, but I agree. If we back away now, we won’t accomplish anything.”

Kleitos’ castle was a marvelous sight to behold. It was an immense keep castle that was made out of the finest stone and bricks possible. The architecture was immaculate, carved with the finest attention to detail. All of it appeared to be well maintained and looked as if it had just been put together. An interesting quirk of the castle was that parts of it appeared to be shifting. This was the most notable when the towers moved in a counterclockwise rotation. The great grinding and rumbling of the movement made it truly awe inspiring to witness.

Tusk cracked his knuckles. “Well, here we are. Let’s head in…”

“Not so fast!” a proud voice declared as magical barriers stopped the group from moving forward.

The man in question wore magnificent blue and gold robes that bordered on being armor. His dark, brown hair was well kept, light gleamed from his cerulean eyes, and he stood tall and mighty. The group was a bit intimidated by his awesome presence, but they were not going to back down. Maxima approached him as he stood in front of the moat.

“Magus Percival, I trust?” she inquired.

“Indeed I am, fair madam. Magus Percival Clair Dan Beuamont, champion of Lord Kleitos and keeper of the crystal archives.” He picked up his foot and planted it in the ground again. “I am well aware of who you four are. You cannot just waltz your way into the castle of his lordship without proving yourselves to me first.”

Tusk nudged Razor and whispered. “Psst, I think he’s a little bored.” Razor chuckled.

“Very well, what task shall we complete?” Maxima asked. Whatever it was, she was sure they could handle it.

“You must face me in combat. Win and I will let you pass.” Percival cast a spell that summoned a beautiful, jewel-encrusted longsword.

Maxima smiled, pulling out a rapier from a portal. “Very well, may the best combatant win. En garde!” She proclaimed as she elegantly swished her sword around.

Mizuki readied her sword, grabbing the hilt. “Honki de iku ze.”

Razor could feel his blood pumping as his body bulked up, causing him to appear more muscular. “Now this is what I’m talking about!”

Tusk took a calming breath as his stone arm lit up with arcing electricity. He pulled a large, stone greatsword from the ground and transmuted it to steel. “Alright, let’s do this. You want to call for help, Percival? 4 on 1 is a little…”

“Do not patronize me, Mr. Willfort!” He cut off, pointing his sword at the treeman. “I am more than capable of handling the four of you.”

He shrugged. “Alright then. Just as a warning: The last one I fought like this was The Lich of Old.”

Next: Chapter 8

ULTRAMagic Alternate © 2022 William Ford II (ChaoticTempleKnight)

[justmanic03]

Amethyst - Chapter Five

"That was incredible! I can't believe you beat me so easily!" Blade marvelled as we both exited the gym.

"Was I quicker than Danny?" I questioned.

"Are you KIDDING ME? I mean, he wasn't slow, but that's almost record time, Y/N! I haven't been taken down at that speed ever since Flossi and Kossi came to challenge me all those years back," Blade patted me on the back, but since he was so strong, he almost knocked me over.

"Oops, sorry, I forget I have muscles sometimes," Blade chuckled, and I smiled along with him. "Anyways, you have more than earned this!"

He reached into the pockets of his tracksuit, and presented me with a shiny trinket that looked exactly like what Danny had been waving in my face earlier.

The grass badge.

"And now, a selfie to commemorate my defeat!" Blade announced, wiping a fake tear from his eyes. He grabbed his Rotom phone. "Strike a pose!" He broke out in a cheesy white grin and a peace sign. Before I realised what was going on, he had snapped a picture of the two of us with the caption "Got rekt by this future champ".

We then proceeded to exchange victorious high-fives, however my celebrations were quickly interrupted when I felt Gladillum's Pokeball begin to quiver. She jumped out of her Pokeball and squealed out, before becoming shrouded in a bright cloud.

"What's happening to her?" I frantically asked Blade.

"She's... she's.... could it be?"

When the cloud disappeared, Gladillum's body was visibly larger. Her green body now sported a dark crimson mosaic-like Sash, and a matching flower crown christened her head. She still had very sharp, pointy ears, yet they seemed to have doubled in length (and sharpness).

Congratulations! Your Gladillum evolved into Gladlily!

"Oh my gosh, she evolved! How adorable!" Blade gushed. I just stood there, stunned that I finally had the opportunity to watch an actual Pokemon evolve!

Gladlily wants to learn Magical Leaf. Forget Quick Attack?

I quickly nodded my head.

Gladlily forgot Quick Attack and it learned Magical Leaf!

"Come on Lily, we've got a Water Gym to challenge!"

She squealed out in delight before jumping back into her Pokeball.

"Good luck! Grass is strong against water, but I guess you already knew that. You'll do just fine!" Blade called as he waved me goodbye.

***

I realised that in order to get to Route 2, I had to make my way past the waterfalls and through a very dark cavern. There were many creepy Pokemon lurking in there, however, I didn't want to climb all the way up a mountain in order to get to Acuada City. And so, I braced myself, bit my lip and stepped from the ledge to the first giant stone. The small series of stepping stones provided a pathway into the cavern that avoided the momentous waterfalls, however, I had to hop and leap between stones to avoid falling in the water. "LOOK OUT!" A voice shrieked.

"Huh?!"

SPLASH!!!

And the next thing I knew, I was submerged in freezing water. I flailed my arms frantically, and grabbed the nearest stone I could find to haul myself back to. I scrambled up onto the ledge, dripping wet and half frozen, only to hear maniacal laughter in my ears. I looked up, and no more than fifty yards away, there was Danny, clutching his stomach, red-faced from his fit of uncontrollable laughter. "Hey Y/N, how's life swimming with the Magikarps?" I immediately growled in anger. "Did you just push me into a freezing cold body of water?!" My angry voice boomed throughout the echoey cavern.

"Well I did tell you to look out, to be fair!" Danny sputtered, still unable to control his laughter. However, I did not find it funny in the slightest. "You little son of a-,"

"And I'm going to stop you right there!" Danny said, as he yanked me over the final pond stone and onto the ledge. "Here, call this a peace offering." He grabbed my hand and placed a shiny, pale blue stone in it. It was an ice stone.

"Where did you get that from?!" I asked.

"I got a bunch of them from Pollux. I got an electric stone, an ice stone, a water stone and a leaf stone. Already gave the water and leaf stones to those two emo nerds we met back in Arrowell. I thought maybe we could have an Eeveelution battle!"

"Oh thank Arceus, I thought you had evolved your Pikachu for a second with your electric stone."

Both Pikachu and Danny's eyes widened in horror.

"I would NEVER! He's too iconic!" Danny petted his Pikachu on the head, reassuring him. (Sorry to all the Raichu fans out there)

"Yeah, I'd have to disown you as a rival if you did that. But then again, I might just do that anyway after that little stunt!" I shoved him.

"Hey! Hey! I said the ice stone was a PEACE OFFERING! It wasn't exactly cheap, you know!"

"Evaaaaa!" Eevee exclaimed as he jumped out of his Pokeball. I placed the ice stone on the ground, and he walked towards it before becoming shrouded in the same mist that Gladlily had when she evolved.

Congratulations! Your Eevee evolved into Glaceon!

Glaceon howled out in delight with that adorable whistle. I smiled instantly. "Okay Danny, you've officially redeemed yourself. He's adorable."

"He sure is! What are you going to name him?"

I shrugged my shoulders. "I'll stick with Glaceon for now until I get an inspiration."

"Hey, check out my Jolteon!" Danny pulled out Jolteon's Great Ball and she came out. I reached down and scratched her on the ears. She scrunched up her eyes in delight, and nuzzled my hand with her spiky fur.

"She's so cute!"

"Isn't she just? I named her Zana because it sounds... zappy! Plus my favourite type of Pokemon is electric, if that wasn't obvious," Danny laughed.

"Hey, where did Glaceon go?" I suddenly realised he was missing. Danny, Zana and I started looking around before spotting Glaceon trying to play with the stalagmites that stuck up from the cave ground.

"Glaceon! Stay away from those! They're sharp!" I ran over to him and pulled him away, yet he squealed in protest.

"Damn, he loves Stalagmites so much!" Danny laughed as he hurried after me with Zana in tow. "You should name him Stalagus."

Glaceon's ears perked up in delight and he began jumping up and down upon hearing this name.

"I think he likes that name!" I chuckled in amusement. I never knew that certain names could make Pokemon so happy. "That settles it, his name is Stalagus!"

"Hey! Let's battle right now!" Danny suggested. "We need to build up our strength if we're going to get to Acuada Gym to face Veronica!"

"Gotcha! Places now!"

We turned and walked away from each other, before turning back around again. Danny pulled out his first Pokeball, and I responded by pulling out Gladlily's Pokeball.

You are challenged by Pokemon Trainer Danny!

Pokemon trainer Danny sent out Pikachu!

"Go! Gladlily!"

The two had both grown significantly stronger since their last battle. Yet they approached this battle with the same fierce determination in their eyes as their first encounter.

Pikachu used thunder!

Gladlily is paralysed! It may be unable to move!

"Haha! I've been working hard on boosting his speed!" Danny punched the air with his fist, proud of Pikachu's first attack.

I whipped out a paralyse heal, and cured Gladlily of her paralysis.

"Pikachu! Use Double Team!"

Pikachu's evasiveness rose!

"Gladlily! Use magical leaf!" I exclaimed.

Gladlily used magical leaf! Pikachu's HP was halved.

"Haha! That's why I only ever use moves with 100% accuracy!"

Danny scratched his head. "Pikachu! Use Volt Switch!"

The sound of thunder permeated my ears, and the ground beneath me rattled slightly as sparks flew from Pikachu and Gladlily. The move wasn't very effective, causing Danny to wince at the prospect of losing to me yet again.

I decided to repeat Magical Leaf, and Pikachu fainted immediately, with Gladlily still retaining about 70% of her HP. "Thank God grass is a bad conductor!" I grinned mischievously.

Danny sent out Sylveon!

(A/N: Yes I'm a sucker for the Eeveelutions. I don't care if that makes me basic)

I decided to go with the combo Focus Energy then Leaf Blade, yet Danny's Sylveon used Baby Doll Eyes and got the first hit in.

By the time Sylveon took down Gladlily, it had around 50% of its HP left. I then remembered that Fairies are weak against Poison types, so I sent out Skrelp.

By the end of the battle, I was once again victorious and threw my fist up in the air! Stalagus and I danced victoriously, whereas Danny's head sank in defeat. "Truth be told, I feel bad about pushing you off the stepping stone so I went easy on you."

"Haha, some things never change," I chuckled as we shook hands.

"Well, I'm off into the cavern to collect some rock and ground types. See ya, Slowbro," Danny raced into the cavern, and I shook my head.

"I've beaten you twice and you're STILL calling me Slowbro?!" I called after him, only to receive no response. I looked down. Stalagus was eyeing me curiously. I petted his soft furry head, which made him hum in delight. "Come on then, Stalagus. It's getting dark. We should probably make camp for the night."

[doyouremem8erme]

I'm not sure how to answer your question on your reblog (thank you!!) any other way so I hope this is okay, haha! You are correct — "and a yellow moon glowed bright" is taken directly from Fleet Foxes' song "Blue Ridge Mountains," which happens to be one of my early favorites from them — my very first being "Mykonos" — both of which I adore to this day.

Other flash warriors fic titles on my tumblr that come from Fleet Foxes are "all weather, you walk with me," "just as the sand made everything round," "the sound of ancient voices ringing soft upon your ear," "water on the concrete," "you will lift his body from the shore," "all is behind you, all is sea," "held within the line that they have drawn," and "all the evidence of your vacant life."

Of my AO3 fics, "through the forest, down to your grave" and "i've met the myth hanging heavy over you" are both Fleet Foxes as well!

...Can you tell I have a favorite band? Lolol

Thank you so much for reading and taking the time to reblog and ask a question! I really appreciate it! <3

I LOVE FLEET FOXES ALSO what a funny coincidence cause i also

fleet foxes + helplessness blues are my fave of their albums but fleet foxes is probably still my fave,, havent had a chance to listen to absolutely everything theyve done but just from those couple i think its fair for me to put them in my faves

[verbo-s-e]

july 13, 2023

if they really wanted to, they fucking would.

we both toed that line — that, fine line — between friendship and more. i was ready at a moments notice to cross it. ready to hear the word go, i would’ve gone to the four corners of the cosmos with you. but you were too afraid weren’t you? too afraid to ruin a friendship built on cracked pavement, huh? go figure, seems pretty on brand.

so instead. you strung me along like a delicately beaded necklace. it reminds me of the string lights hung in your house. i see then glowing when i leave mine. reminds me in a way of what we’ll never be. our friendship couldn’t ever last, could it? not when we play with this fine line delicately woven between us the way we do. it’s worse than playing with fire.

you told me over and over again it was never anything more. to the point i almost believed it myself, and sometimes maybe i do. but it’s a lie you’ve repeated to help yourself believe. no one else, because no else does. i’ll sit in the wings of the echoes of words spoken just to make some fucking sense of it all. as if the reverberations will finally penetrate my thick skull.

it never works though. just enough to make me question everything. muddies up waters i thought impenetrable and crystal blue forever. and i hate you so much for that. you’ve got my devotion, but man i can hate you sometimes.

right now as you’re the man up on the hell in your tower, living your life with no consequence or grief addled bones of the ending and undoing of something neither of us can ever explain, i’m crying in my car replaying the tape over and over and over and over again trying to dissect what went wrong. why it went wrong. and all that. i’m sleeping more and more these days and barely have energy to function. i hâte to admit it, but my house is starting to take the brunt of it. how do i redirect? how do i zoom out? half a decade of loving you is a long time.

in my efforts to process this fucking insurmountable grief — and no, it’s no longer a mole hill anymore — i’m underneath the mountain and having a hard time finding an escape route. what’s my strategy? where’s the exit sign? like my decision to write the letter ending it all, the only thing i keep coming to is moving away. it’s the only thing that makes any sort of fucking sense. and it’s so FUCKED. it’s just not fair. even if you were here first.

another thing to add to the list of things to be angry about. i don’t actually want to leave. i can barely even whisper it. but it’s true. i’ve worked so hard to even exist. fought tooth and nail to take up space, to create a life i’ve always wanted to live, to be fucking proud of. but you’re my fucking neighbor and i just can’t not see that. not feel that.

i’m tired of feeling everything and shouldering the emotional bandwidth between us. god, i’m so fucking resentful.

all this to say that if you really wanted to, you would’ve. i don’t want to hear on a loop in my mind, ��i didn’t know if i was hurting or helping you by being in your life’. yes you did. you always fucking did.

whatever.

[adviserbabycom]

BOB Gear Revolution Flex 3.0 Duallie Double Jogging Stroller Review

https://youtu.be/XgPfwI-nzWY Hey guys, it's Kelly The_Car_Mom in today. I am very excited to bring you a very special tour. Um, it only has three wheels instead of four, and it is my brand new Double Bob Stroller. So this video is in no way sponsored. In fact, I didn't even email me back at Bob Strollers.  So I did a lot of research about which double stroller I wanted to go to. The first question I had to ask myself was side by side or front and back. So I actually have a Vista stroller. So I knew I had the option to convert that to a forwarder back if I wanted to, but I still felt like I was going to need the side-by-side because it's a lot better for jogging walking and just some rougher terrain. I definitely think the benefit to a front and back is it's easier to fit through a doorway if you're going to different stores. But honestly, taking both my kids to any store sounds miserable So I will be avoiding it at all costs. The other thing, when I was kind of testing the different stores out, I felt like the front and back, I felt like it made the child in the front so much further away from me that like, I couldn't even age what was going on. So I just didn't feel as comfortable with it. It wasn't for me. So I knew I wanted to do them side by side. It came down to really two main ones I was looking at, and that was the City Mini and The Double Bob.  I ultimately went with the Double Bob because I liked how big the tires were. And I felt like it was more of like an offroading stroller. The way that I'm going to use the stroller is honestly offroading. We go to the farm a lot. We go to country fairs a lot, and I needed something that I thought could handle gravel roads. I also wanted something that was going to be compact and could hold my kids for a very long time. And I think those are kinda my main selling points.  So today I'm going to do a full review of this Double Bob Stroller All right. So, so much to break down, love the body lines real like catching your eye on the sidewalk. No, in all seriousness, it's a double stroller. I want the black on black, honestly, not my first choice color. There was a glacier blue color that I wanted so bad, but it was sold out everywhere. If anyone on here has a glacier blue and wants, to try for a black one comment below because it's carbon blue. And I really wanted that one, but we want the black, we kept it simple.  So the first thing I wanted to talk about was the tire. So these tires space to be filled with air. And I really liked that because I felt that it would be easier for me to like, um, maintain. I don't know, that was a selling point to me. I like that the tires were big and they filled with, they're kind of like a bike tire. Also, guys, we'll do a little, uh, drive test. This thing has a built-in suspension, better than some cars I've seen. So I’m liking that. Okay.  So let's start with my passenger comfort because that is one of the most important things.  So when you look at the seats of the Double Bob, there is some actually really comfortable padding. The straps can be adjusted in all sorts of different ways. So you can adjust the height that they come out, kinda like you could on a car seat, which I think is really nice. And then they also have their own little side cubbies right here, which is like, I really like that to hold like some emergency toys. Like in the meantime, like I could put George's water cup there, um, until like I get the snack tray. So I really liked that. So just to show you guys how exactly you would buckle it in.  So one, this crotch buckle is completely adjustable as well. These straps and these straps appear too. So there are a lot of different ways to do it. It's very easy to buckle in. We've got the beautiful Bob logo right there, which is like them, I guess, jogging on a mountain. So that's kind of an idea of how this, the buckling happens, but then there's a couple of other adjustments that you can make as well on the back of the stroller. So back here, you can actually recline this stroller, like all the way back, for an optimal napping position. And then you can also raise it up just by doing that. So I really like that. And I even like when I was taking George on a walk the other day, I noticed he was getting sleepy slow. I slowly started to lower it because I went all the way back. He would've been upset, but just that slight little recline, I really liked, you can also be up to 70 pounds in these feet. So that's pretty, that's a lot. And then just, you know, pockets galore people like here's two pockets. I like that. They're separated too. So you could fit like things for these kids, a zipper pocket, um, a good place for a phone. Maybe this is the perfect size to fit an iPhone, which is really nice. I really like that. So you can also roll this little part up and then you could attach it. So there's like so much flexibility  I think that's just really helpful. Let's talk about this cubby down here, because this part is not my fame. I'm gonna be, be honest with you. Okay. So this is my current diaper bag. It's an a-la co-diaper bag. Um, I will leave a link in the description box below, but like, it's an, I mean, right. Like it's not huge. I know it could fit here, but I'm having a really hard time getting it because of this strap. So I understand why this strap is here, but like, it's, it's difficult for me to put my diaper bag in here, tried to come from over here and like shove it in and like, I'm gonna say, well, I, I, I could get it. I mean, I can get it in there. There we go. There we go. And then I would like to put it like this.  So then I could like access things. But to me, that was just a little more difficult. I kind of wish this could snap off easily, but it screwed in. So I wasn't able to like snap that off. So that's one thing I'm just not obsessed with. I like the size of this basket. I like a lot of things about this basket. I just wish it was easier to get really large items in and out of there.  Okay. So some other things about these like sunshades, sun canopy, first of all, it's up F 50+ don't totally know what that means because isn't it UV protect. I'm not really sure. U PF 50+, we love to hear it. I like that this part exists. This is magnetic.  So I could lift this up and actually see into the kids to like, see if they're napping without totally like parking the stroll and turning around. So I think that's a really great feature. And then also you can pull this sunshine down So far to where like, they're, they're completely shaded underneath there. So I definitely like all those different, I mean, look how far those come down, but I like it because like they still get a lot of sunshine on their legs, especially like to kind like keep 'em a little bit more or warmed up, but they wouldn't have any sun on their eyes and you can really just like bend these every which way.  So like, however, you needed to keep the sun off their eyes. So I think that's a pretty cool feature. I really like the shades on here. That was one of the main selling points for me.  We have some nice Bob badging in a nice little silver color, one aftermarket access three, I did go ahead and purchase these cup holders because your girl needs a cup holder. Obviously, I'm starting with two with love four because I'm dramatic like that. Um, this is just a standard water bottle. So this one fits great in here. This one I knew was a stretch. This is like a giant Mason jar wide mouth. I mean, let me be clear. I would walk like this, but I wouldn't say I would jog with this. Um, cuz it doesn't quite fit, but this is one of the biggest cup holders I can find, but it will fit a coffee check-in afternoon stroll. Like it would it'll fit the things that we need. So I really like these.  They're really easy to screw on and off as well. So I'll link in the description below to purchase this cuz I'm a huge fan. Now one of my other favorite features about this stroller is this bar mostly gonna take my drinks out for this tutorial. I'm really tall. I'm about six feet tall. My UppaBaby Vista Stroller. I felt like the bar came up high enough, but I always would've come up higher. What I love about this stroller isn't mean I could walk like this. I could be like just marching around like this or I could go down here and have it more like chest height or I could like, I mean literally just walk around like this.  I love it. I love how adjustable this bar is. Especially for tall people like myself and then super easy to adjust. So I'm really enjoying that.  Let's talk a little bit about like just how smooth the stroller is Let's find some terrain really is nice. Look it at me. Just trekking through grass, tall grass on a diagonal. Let me pop up here. This is not recommended. I mean guys, the thing it drives itself, let's check out this turning radius. I mean on a dime, seeing the diamond one is really exciting stuff. Very maneuverable. Let me give you a little jogging demonstration. I'm not a runner. Oh yeah. Really nice. You put her in the park kind of fun. It's a little foot pedal right here and then she's in the park. So it's actually a pretty intense break. I feel pretty good about the emergency brake. Okay.  Let's talk a little bit about folding her up. So it's a two-step process, but it's honestly pretty easy. Now I'm gonna put these up. We're gonna do is take these handles and this folds it forward. Perfect. Then I come over here and take this little grab. It's honestly kind of a dramatic it's a little dramatic and then I have it secured.  There are a couple of different ways that you can clip it just so you can ensure that it doesn't unlock on you. So I would just clip that together. So here is what it looks like completely folded. Now you can pop off the wheels. Um, if you had to compact it even more, but honestly this is pretty compact for a double stroller, putting it up is also very easy. You just unbuckle that part. That is going to wrap up my Double Bob Stroller torn. I've only used this a handful of times, so I will definitely be talking more about it, and how I'm using it on my Instagram. So definitely make sure you head there. But my first impressions are I'm happy. I went with it. I really like it. I think the weight distribution on it is awesome. I have no problem pushing both my kids up a steep hill. I, if I had a front-to-back, it would be a little bit harder. I'm still probably going to turn step into a front and back just so I have both options, but I really like it.  Read the full article

[fictive-fodder]

|| Steven Grant vs. You : III ||

A tiny story where you discover that your sweet, handsome coworker is just as much into Egyptology as you are into ancient Greece- and the playful battle that ensues.

PART I - PART II - PART III

Word Count: 2.9K

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Read this on A03!

Referenced works- Hesiod. Theogony and Works and Days (Oxford World's Classics) OUP Oxford. Richard Mayde. Ancient Egypt, Dodd, Mead Gerald D. Waxman, Astronomical Tidbits: A Layperson's Guide to Astronomy

Let us begin our singing. It will haunt this great and holy mountain, and we will dance on our soft feet round the violet-dark spring and the altar of the mighty son of Kronos. We will bathe our gentle skin in Permessos. Then, on the highest slope we will make our dances, fair and lovely, stepping lively in time. From there we go forth, veiled in thick mist, and walk by night, uttering beautiful voice. 

So said mighty Zeus’ daughters, they breathed into me wondrous voice, so that I should celebrate things of the future and things that were aforetime. Come now, from the Muses let us begin, as they tell of what is and what shall be and what was aforetime, voices in unison. The words flow untiring from their mouths, and sweet. 

“I mean… just wow…” Steven sighed, eyes twinkling at you from across your desk. 

“I know.” You nodded with deep satisfaction. 

“You’re right, too.” he continued, “You really do get this sense that they were there.” 

“It feels like it, huh?” you agreed, “With ancient Egypt, you have Pharaoh as the representative of higher power, but there isn’t this deep and messy interaction with the gods that I’ve come to love so much out of Greek myth. Especially when historical artists made work where they themselves interacted with gods, or were at least in conversation with them, like this or like Sappho.” 

Lately, when Steven worked mornings, he had taken to peering into your cubicle on his breaks to see if you weren’t too busy for him to visit. It was quickly becoming your favorite ritual, and you found yourself often looking past your cubicle’s entrance as if you could will his curly head of hair to appear. 

“I think the closest equivalent I can come to is the temple of Philae…” Steven thought aloud, he leaned over your desk excitedly. You smiled, nodding as you thought of the description of it in the book Steven lent you. 

Close by this temple of Osiris at Philae was a small one, dedicated to his queen and sister, Isis. A later writer speaks of it as “the most strangely wild and beautiful spot he ever beheld. Here spreads a deep drift of silvery sand, fringed by rich verdure and purple blossoms; there, a grove of palms, intermingled with flowering acacia; and there, through vistas of craggy cliffs and gloomy foliage, gleams a calm blue lake, with the sacred island in the midst, green to the water’s edge, except where the walls of the old temple city are reflected.”  

“From the little I’ve glimpsed so far, it seems like Osirus and Isis’ marriage is a very popular story?”

“Oh, yea, super.” Steven nodded significantly. “And for good reason too- I mean sewing your husband’s body back from fourteen pieces is quite a testimony to your love, I think.” There was a quiet pause as you took a moment to make sure the two of you were still being ignored, before Steven continued, “Is there a love story you like from Greek mythology?” 

“Oh-” you took in a deep breath, overwhelmed by the question. “There are so many… I mean so, so many. You have the big ones, you know- like Odysseus and Penelope, Patroclus and Achilles, Hades and Persephone, the love triangle of Aphrodite, Ares and Hephaestus… the Greeks adored a good love story. They had 8 different kinds of Love, after all.” 

“Eight, really?” Steven asked, leaning even further over your desk, his smile unfading. 

“Yes! You have Storge, familial love. Philautia, self love. Agape, which I quite like, that’s love for everyone.”

“Ooh that’s very grand.” Steven chuckled. 

“It is! Philia is also lovely- that’s deep friendship.” 

“Alright, that was four.”  he counted, tilting his head as he looked into your eyes. If there were any emails or phone calls incoming you would have never known. You met Steven’s gaze, smiling back at him and feeling, strangely, as if you couldn’t inhale as much air as you would like to.

“Mhm… then we have Mania, which is obsessive love. You know, when you can’t stop thinking about someone and you’re just-” you shook your head, grinning, “kinda like when you first fall in love for someone, really hard, and you can’t think about anything else, you’re just tortured?” 

A change passed over Steven’s face that was initially hard for you to read. At first, you thought the brightness of his eyes dimmed at your last words, but as you searched his face you realized that his eyes weren’t less bright due to dismay or boredom, they were less bright because his pupils were dilating as he watched you. Steven was so close to you that you could even see your own silhouette in his widening gaze. 

“Um…” you continued on, swallowing dryly, “A..Another favorite of mine, Ludus… which is playful love, or like- young love. Eros, probably the best known, as it’s the spicy one. And lastly you have the love I’m certain Osirus and Isis shared…”

“What’s that one called?” Steven asked, eyes widening. 

“Pragma, longstanding love… kind of the end goal, really.” 

You jumped with a start as your desk phone began to ring loudly. Steven cleared his throat, pulling himself off of your desk and back into his chair, rubbing the side of his face with one hand as you twisted to pick up your phone. You frowned as you recognized the number on caller i.d. to be the gift shop’s extension. “Ut oh Steven…” you mumbled, picking up the phone. “Reception- how can I help you?” you answered as neutrally as possible, but you almost lost your professional composure as you glanced nervously at Steven, and found him staring at you like a child caught with their hand in the proverbial cookie jar. 

“Hello- could you please tell me if there is a gift shop employee in the office? His name is Stevie?”

“Stevie?” you repeated, confused. Steven rolled his eyes, exasperated. “No, there is definitely no Stevie here I’m sorry to say… office is pretty empty. Is there something I can help you wi-” the phone clicked in your ear. Frowning, you pulled the receiver away from you to look at it, before hanging up the line and looking at Steven.

“Did Donna just hang up on you?” he asked, startled. 

“I think she did?” you replied laughing, aghast. 

“Oi- I hate that, I’m sorry.” Steven grimaced, standing up. “I don’t want you getting into trouble.” 

“I’m not concerned, we work in two totally separate departments.” you shrugged. This seemed to reassure Steven as he patted down his pants pockets and made sure he had everything.

“Time to go sell some plastic ankhs?” you teased, grinning. 

“Oh yes.” Steven replied lamely. “Some Nike of Samothrace snow globes as well.” 

“Ouch- you got me.” you laughed, standing up too. You opened your mouth to ask about seeing him for lunch before you stopped yourself- what if you were being too demanding of his attention? With these new visits, any free time Steven had was being claimed by you. It felt presumptive to assume he wouldn’t like some time for himself. “Um… do you have any plans you're looking forward to, today?” 

“Finishing the Theogony, that’s about it.” Steven replied, stepping out of your cubicle. “Talk about it over lunch, yea?” 

You felt yourself blush. “If you want to!” 

“Cheers!” Steven exclaimed, before darting away. 

You sat back in your office chair and swiveled to face your computer, smiling to yourself. Steven was good. He was so, so good. Sighing dreamily, you refreshed your email and watched your screen filled with messages. 

As you clicked through your emails you couldn’t help but to keep thinking about Steven, how lucky you were to become friends after only a few weeks of working at the museum. Even though Donna and Steven’s relationship didn’t seem great, part of you envied the amount they got to interact as a team. Your role was mostly emails between curators, accountants, marketing agents, and the Liaison Department. 

You straightened in your chair as something occurred to you, hadn’t Steven said that he wanted to be a tour guide? You opened an email from Marketing briefing the Liaison Department on a new collection of work that would be showcased soon, asking the liaisons to study up on the attached pdf’s of art history so they could speak about the collection. You still hadn’t figured out why you seemed to be CC’d on every single email from any department under the museum roof, but now that didn’t seem so bad. They were all there- any branch manager you needed was available to you… even the curation team for the ancient Egyptian collection.

“What have you got today?” you asked as you sat down beside Steven in the break room. 

“I think what you mean is, what have I got us today!”’ Steven said triumphantly, as he pulled from his bag not one, but two lunches. 

“What!” you exclaimed, eyebrows raised. 

“Yea dove I made you lunch!” Steven grinned, all the more satisfied by your surprise. “It’s not bad either, we’ve got apples, some crisps, and avocado sandwiches! They’re quite good really, they’ve got lettuce and tomato in, and this spicy mustard.” 

Steven set your lunch before you with a level of excitement equal to a conductor beginning a symphony. All you could do was stare, and make some strange smile with your mouth partly open, as you looked between him and the slightly crumpled, but still appetizing sandwich before you. 

“I wanted to try and make this vegan caramel for the apples but I rather bungled that…” he continued, reminiscing on his caramel attempt with a cringe. 

“I’m-“ you started to say, but you didn’t actually know what you were. Aside from the obvious attributes: deeply flattered, touched, and surprised. There was a tightness in your throat that you’d only usually felt when you were about to cry, but there were no tears forming in your eyes. You stared at the sandwich as if it held monumental power. 

With a crunch, Steven bit into his apple. He nudged your arm with his elbow as he took another bite. You jumped a little and picked up your own. 

“Cheers!” Steven said, tapping his apple against yours. Chucking, you took a bite. 

You couldn’t have known how strange it was for Steven to be eating a lunch he made with a friend. He was nearly as surprised as you, that he was able to sit down with you today and provide this meal. Steven had never been very good about remembering to make himself up a lunch to take to work, but the idea of also making one for you, however modest it may be, was so exciting that it stuck in his mind. Instead of only remembering he should have packed food by the time he was clocking out for lunch, he had stopped at the market on the way home last night, imagining how this very moment would play out. As was usual, he had been hesitant to fall asleep, but the thought of having time in the morning to carefully assemble sandwiches gripped him with excitement and so he’d done his best, making sure his ankle restraint was tightly fastened to his leg no later than midnight, and stared up at his dark ceiling, silently begging it to let him sleep peacefully. 

When Steven woke up it was nearly dawn. He was so bewildered by the unique light of early morning that for a moment he thought he’d only slept for a few minutes. His ankle was still securely fastened to its brace, and even more profoundly, he felt rested. Steven felt like he had won, but there was also a bitter sweetness to realizing his night had gone exactly as intended- that it was unlikely to happen again, or consistently.

He tried to brush off that anxiety though, as he watched you take the first bite of the sandwich he made. Whether you were just being angelically polite or genuinely enjoying it, he appreciated your attention nevertheless. What was better? To try and have some plans, some gifts, some special moments never materialize- or to never meet the opportunity to surprise you and make you smile? 

That was an easy answer. 

“You failed to mention earlier,” Steven started, chewing through a large bite of bread, “what your favorite ancient Greek love story is?” 

“Oh right! Well that’s so difficult!” you groaned, grinning. “The reason may be nuanced, but I love Selene and Endymion’s story.” 

“What is it?” 

“Selene is the Moon goddess in the ancient Greek pantheon, and Endymion was a mortal shepherd Prince that would take his flock over hills and mountains at night. They fell in love, but because she was immortal and Endymion was not, Zeus extended his life by casting an eternal sleep upon Endymion.” 

“Alright?” Steven responded, gesturing for you to keep explaining. 

“That’s pretty much the whole story.” you laughed.

“Why is that your favorite then?” Steven asked, more spellbound than anything. 

“Because! Okay this might sound a little cheesy but-”

“Sorry, I can’t do cheese. I’m vegan, remember?” Steven said with mock severity. 

“Wow.” you replied flatly. You leaned back a little to watch Steven have a very hard time not laughing at his own joke. “Proud of yourself?” 

“Go on, keep telling me why-” he choked out, bringing his hands to cover his mouth. 

“No, no…” you replied, you resisted the twitch of a smile on your own face. “I don’t think I can after being eviscerated by your lactose free wit.” 

“Please-” Steven wheezed faintly, nodding encouragingly, “Please, tell me.” 

“Well-” you sighed haggardly, “What I was going to say is that I like it, because to me it feels metaphorical? No one should really ‘see’ the moon because it is at its best when we should be asleep, and yet we have and we do- and we have done for hundreds of years? Cultures with no connection all over the world have fallen in love with the Moon, which appears in its highest glory when our eyes should be closed? And I just think of that when thinking of Endymion. I think of how the night sky infatuates us, how humankind has always been so rhapsodic about it, even though as creatures we are useless in the dark and the night does little for anyone in a practical sense.

“Endymion is in this eternal sleep, induced by his love for the Moon… again, metaphorically, he’s fed by his affection for something so lovely? It just so simply encapsulates this understanding that people had way back then that even in a time of hardship, beauty was longed for and nourished humankind?” 

Steven had stopped eating. He was simply staring at you, eyebrows raised. 

“I know it sounds like I’ve thought about it too much- it’s because I do.” you qualified, embarrassed. 

“No-” Steven replied, voice soft, brow furrowed. “You’re alright… that was, that’s good.” 

You were not convinced that Steven was genuine in his reassurance. You cast your eyes downward, mind racing. This was an overstep on your part- you got a little too romantic, waxed a little too poetic about your favorite topic. You wanted to try to ground your thoughts. “Um… there’s an… there’s a quote from this book.” you offered weakly, pulling your phone out of your pocket for reference. 

You read aloud, “There is a fundamental reason why we look at the sky with wonder and longing—for the same reason that we stand, hour after hour, gazing at the distant swell of the open ocean. There is something like an ancient wisdom, encoded and tucked away in our DNA, that knows its point of origin as surely as a salmon knows its creek. Intellectually, we may not want to return there, but the genes know, and long for their origins—their home in the salty depths. But if the seas are our immediate source, the penultimate source is certainly the heavens… The spectacular truth is—and this is something that your DNA has known all along—the very atoms of your body—the iron, calcium, phosphorus, carbon, nitrogen, oxygen, and on and on—were initially forged in long-dead stars. This is why, when you stand outside under a moonless, country sky, you feel some ineffable tugging at your innards. We are star stuff.“ The quiet you were greeted with felt unbearable. Quickly tucking your phone back in your pocket, you smiled, and sighed. “I mean those are the words of an astronomer, but the ancient Greeks were saying the same thing- We can’t help ourselves. We’re all in love with the moon.”

Mania.  Steven thought.

“I…” Steven started, before stopping himself with a shake of his head. He still hadn’t touched any food. Sighing your name, Steven glanced into your eyes, head still shaking. “You… um, you think- You think very beautifully.” 

“Hah-” you breathed, it was a sound of deepest regret. Why? Why had you been so open. You could have probably cooked an egg on your cheek, it felt so warm. You were desperate for some way out of being the talkative one. “You know, I don’t actually know if there was a Moon god in the Egyptian pantheon?” 

“Oh-” Steven’s tone changed to something significantly less enchanted. “Yea. His name is Khonshu, god of the Moon, protector of those who travel at night.” 

“...not a fan?” you asked, unable to help smiling at how personally offended Steven seemed by invoking Khonshu. 

“Not really.” he replied, shrugging. 

“Aha!” you grinned, taking a triumphant bite of your apple. “And there it is.”

“What?” Steven asked.

“The beginning of the end, Steven.” you hummed, “Greek god versus Egyptian God, Selene beats Khonshu.” 

“HAH!” Steven laughed so loudly the rest of your coworkers in the break room glanced over. Why did this always happen to you two? Steven grasped at his chest, his eyes closed by the strength of his giggles. “Alright dove, that one you can have.”

TAG LIST:

@oliviagreenaway​  @then-he-was-wrong-about-me​  @b0xerdancer

[whirlybirbs]

         (  chapter 6′s gif by @buckysbarnes​​ from this lovely set !  )

✪   —   VACANT MIRRORS  ;  B.B.  |  6/?

summary: gunshot wounds, panic attacks, and evil next door neighbors.

pairing: bucky barnes / f!reader

tags: set before & during tfatws, friends to lovers, therapy positive, trauma healing techniques, ptsd mentions, the normalization of anxiety disorders, and a good ol’ slow burn

word count: 5.3k, a filler before the real sexual tension.

a/n: be warned, this chapter has a diy medical procedure where bucky removes the slug from rabbit’s shoulder. it’s nothing too graphic, but keep that in mind! also, i wanted to say thank you to everyone who has rec’d, reblogged, commented, kudos, liked, looked at this fic. the response to every chapter has been so overwhelmingly kind and i’m so thankful that i have the oppurtunity to share this fic with you all. that being said, i broke this chapter up. next week has some spice. ;-)

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Bucky wakes up with a headache that feels like someone’s tapped an icepick between his eyes. A fire-bright burn radiates under his ribs.

It’s a slow creep back to reality — he just lays there and stares at the peeling wallpaper that meets the corner of the ceiling for a while, knowing deep in the back of his muddled, confused thoughts that he most likely has a nasty concussion, maybe a few broken ribs.

How? Hm. Fighting. Music? The club.

Rabbit.

He sits up fast and Bucky’s blue eyes struggle to adjust in the low-light of the scarcely furnished apartment. The searing pang of his headache is enough to make his stomach churn, but he’s had worse. So much worse. This is manageable. So, he swallows down the nausea and looks around the room like a wounded animal — and almost immediately, relief greets him at the sight of you in the armchair across from the couch.

Your hair is a mess, falling from it’s previous style that you’d proudly worn to The Glass Cannon. Your lipstick is smeared, there’s glitter on your cheeks, and your make-up has transitioned from starlet beauty to broken-hearted bombshell. Bucky notices, with a bit of dismay, that you’re even missing an earring. There’s a nasty bruise forming along the peak of your cheekbone and a gash there from when Alexei had cracked you across the face with the pistol — and even despite all this, Bucky can feel his heart clench at the sight of you. A good clench. The sort that makes his heart kick into a stutter step.

You look… well, you look like someone who’d had the shit choked out of them and then was shot.

Shot.

Your jacket, punched clean through with the single bullet hole, is hanging over the back of the chair and there’s gauze taped to your shoulder. You’re leaning your good cheek in your hand, attention turned totally to Bucky, where you’ve fallen asleep. From here, you’re a picture of exhaustion.

Anxiety flashes in his heart and he swings his legs over the edge of the couch.

Suddenly, there’s a hand on his shoulder.

“Take it easy.”

It’s the woman from before, Kiwi, and she’s got an ice pack in her hands. It’s wrapped in a ratty, green dish towel, and she hands it off to Bucky with a pitiful little look. Rounding the couch, Bucky finally gets a better look at her.

She’s older than you, maybe by a handful of years, but sharp and beautiful nonetheless. Her hair is dark as night and the tips are drenched in a lime colored dye. Her eyes are dark, too, ringed by kohl and glitter, and Bucky wonders if he’s ever seen her before.

“You heal quick,” she says quietly as she plops down into the chair across the room. On a makeshift desk, there’s a laptop, “Care to explain how you know our dear friend Rabbit here?”

Bucky shifts uncomfortably. Again, his eyes fall on your sleeping form.

He maneuvers the ice pack in his hands, then gently presses it to his ribs. He melts a bit, ignoring the evident tears in the silk shirt. He feels bad — he’d busted some of the seams in the midst of the brutal scuffle and it seems like this artifact of Jaimie’s was most likely beyond salvation.

His dog tags jingle against his chest.

“Therapy,” Bucky croaks, “We, uh, we met in therapy.”

A new voice comes into the picture now, one that’s muffled by a mouthful of food.

“That’s cute.”

It’s the other one, Climber. He’s traded in his all-black, all-polyurethane outfit for an expensive looking t-shirt. Without the strobes, without the tunnel vision, Bucky can now see the intricate buzz cut that sits beneath the mountain of blue curls on his head. There are patterns buzzed into his tight-shave. He’s got a smile, too, the glimmers a little too artificially. Bucky spies crystals inset on his incisors between bites of what looks like a bowl of cereal with no milk. Spoon and all.

“I don’t think we’ve properly met,” Climber says as he plops down next to Bucky on the couch, “What’d you say your name was?”

A hand is jutted his way. Bucky blinks. He shakes it with his vibranium hand.

“I’m Bucky.”

“Well, I’m gay and you’re gorgeous,” he says candidly, giving it a good shake, “So, if that’s of any interest—”

“Can you please shut up, Climber?” comes an irritated rasp from you in your armchair. Bucky turns to watch as you raise your head and rub your eyes, “Christ, I just fell asleep.”

“And your little supersoldier just woke up,” Kiwi chirps from her preoccupation with the laptop and contents on it, “So why don’t you stop being a little baby and let him look at that gunshot wound.”

Bucky’s face falls flat. He drops the ice pack to the coffee table with a thwunk.

You sit up, gingerly trying to maneuver yourself so as to not bother both your ribs and your shoulder. It takes a moment, but finally you’re sitting up with only a dull ache of pain throbbing beneath your skin. Now, the real sting comes from the bitter look Bucky has pinned you with.

“You haven’t cleaned it yet?”

“The shits in the kitchen,” Kiwi waves at Bucky, as if to say told you so, “She fuckin’ refused to let me take care of it.”

“You’re going to get an infection if it stays in you any longer,” he snaps, standing to his feet, “Get up.”

“Kiwi isn’t exactly the most gentle person I know,” you manage to supply as an excuse as you move through the room, “And I know that thing isn’t coming out without a fight.”

He can feel the grey hairs coming in already.

You stand slowly, and Bucky looms behind you as you weave into the small apartment’s kitchen.

It’s barely lived in, but a few years ago it most definitely had life. Now, it’s mostly abandoned save for a few necessities. Kiwi had told you, a long time ago, about this spot — it was her parent’s place before the Snap. After the Blip, they ended up moving back to Massachusetts. Now abandoned by anyone seeking to really live in the one bedroom, it sits collecting dust until Kiwi inevitably needs it.

Like now.

“Up on the counter.”

You wince at his tone, but still thankful to be away from Kiwi and Climber’s prying eyes.

For the entire time Bucky had been out, you’d been subjected to a myriad of questions — all were fair, really, since Bucky did just bust out the Avenger-level super-moves on some Russian mafiosos for your sake, vibranium arm and all. The arm was really the biggest stuck point in the conversation as you tried your best to explain the nature of your relationship with the unconscious supersoldier on the couch. It was met with plenty of looks, both curious and skeptical.

You’re slow to hop up on the dusty marble countertop. From there, you watch Bucky poke through the kit that Kiwi had pulled from under the sink.

Then, with the calculated process of a man who has pulled one too many bullets from himself, Bucky slams the kit shut and wanders into the bathroom.

He returns with a pair of large tweezers. He’s silent as the dead as he rummages for a pan, fills it with water, and sets the gas burner on. He stares, watching the pot boil, as his foot taps against the floor.

You swallow down any comments.

There’s a clean towel beside you, and Bucky casually reached into the boiling water with his vibranium hand to retrieve the tweezers — whether or not he purposely ignored the pain is lost on you. You’re too busy anxiously spiraling into silence.

(He’s trying to ground himself, to feel something other than panic. It’s a mild spike, but it’s still panic. Because you’re hurt. Because you still have a fucking casing lodged in your shoulder and he doesn’t want anything bad to happen to you. Ever. Because he saw it happen and then it was black, and now that anxiousness is creeping in.)

Rubbing alcohol, tweezers, gauze, tape, and… Jack Daniel’s.

It’s from the top of the fridge. It’s got a layer of dust on it — and it’s unopened.

Bucky unceremoniously pops the cap and hands the open bottle to you.

You take it and pause.

Bucky’s gaze is cold.

“You’re gonna want to take a few swigs, Doll.”

You almost snarl. You take a long drink then, ignoring the burn of the whiskey down your throat. It’s only when you’ve had enough to nearly gag that you hand the bottle back and then hiss:

“Don’t call me Doll.”

He takes the bottle and unceremoniously slams it down on the counter.

His movements are rough as he washes his hands — and if Bucky was a better person, maybe he’d take a second and parse through why he was feeling so damn irritable. But, no, no, he could figure out that he was angry at himself and you and Alexei Gardzov and Innessa Sidrova and fucking… everyone because he can’t have any normal relationships in his life without there being bloodshed or pain or suffering. That was enough, and he didn’t want to dig deeper into the nipping fear of losing you, not now, not when he had a job to do—

You suck in a sharp breath when his fingers brush your collarbone. He gently moves the delicate strap of your bodysuit, ignoring the soft skin beneath, and pulls the gauze away from your shoulder.

Your jacket had taken most of the impact it seems. Bucky frowns deeply at the pink fibers clinging to the entry wound. It’s a nasty puckered bit of flesh, smeared with blood, right in the soft muscle of your left shoulder. The hole is a little smaller than a quarter — Bucky recognizes it as shot from a 9mm almost immediately. He’s taken a few of these in his days. He’s glad it wasn’t close range. The burns from the muzzle flash make for nasty scars. He’d know. He has one on his back, right above his hip.

Bucky’s jaw is tight. He’s gritting his back teeth. His headache throbs angrily behind his eyes.

Bucky leans, eyeing the wound carefully. His limited reaction is enough to spark a little light of bravery in your gut, and you move to look at the hole — only to find a vibranium hand rooting your jaw in place. It’s gentle enough as it recorrects the line of your gaze straight ahead. His thumb rests on the curve of your chin as his index climbs your jaw, and the vibranium is warm and cold all at once. It’s an odd sensation. Not bad, but not flesh.

You like it.

(You find your mind quickly flashing with the thought of what that hand would feel like in other places. You ignore it.)

Your eyes are stuck on Bucky.

He’s clearly upset — the pinch between his brows and the evident scowl on his lips is enough of an indication. The bridge of his nose is busted and there’s a bruise crawling under his left eye. The shirt you’d given him is a wreck, and as he bends to snatch up a rubbing alcohol soaked pad, the feeling of shame creeps up on you. The anxiousness that’s settled in the pit of your stomach doesn’t help.

Arguably, it exacerbates the symptom.

The whiskey is slow to make an impact.

But, when Bucky finally swipes the gauze across the wound, your ankles have begun to tingle and it isn’t blinding white pain you feel — not yet. It’s sharp and it feels like he’s touching your shoulder blade when he presses his fingers into the holes to clean the immediate area. That has you grimacing tightly.

His obsidian-hued hand holds your face still through it.

So, you opt to stare.

His arm reminds you of some pottery you’d seen back at the Museum of Modern Art once, on a school trip. In a dimly lit room, spotlights lit up a row of vases that had been gilded back together with gold-dusted sap. You’d sat there for nearly an hour, staring at those things. You can’t remember the name now, not while Bucky does one more pass across the wound. It started with a ‘k’. It was beautiful. You loved that exhibit. Why can’t you — fuck — remember the name? Kinsi… kinsigumi? Gumi. Kintsi —

You grit your teeth and grip the counter tightly. He pauses. You exhale.

You inhale.

Kintsugi.

The seams of his arm remind you of Kintsugi.

It’s beautiful.

Bucky’s eyes flit to yours. He sees your stare.

Maybe it’s the pain, or the half-cocked daze, but the look in your eyes is enough to spur an immediate reaction. Bucky scowls. He yanks his hand back, retreating to the supplies on the counter. He’s pulled, hard and fast, and now he seems miles away.

Quietly, and with a bit more chill than he intended, he speaks. “If it was making you nervous, you should have said something.”

It.

Your head snaps to him.

“What?” you ask, nearly incredulously.

He’s silent. He has the tweezers in his hand now.

Your eyes narrow critically — and instead of shame and anxiety, it’s hurt that flies off your tongue. It’s drenched in enough pain that Bucky hears it in the waver of your voice.

“You think I’m afraid of you?”

It’s nearly a whisper.

He swallows.

He ignores it. He has to. He doesn’t want to know the answer. Either way that conversation goes is enough to drag him into territory he can’t handle right now. Not when he needs to do this without his hands shaking.

“This is going to hurt.”

Your mouth is open — be it shock or anger, he’s not sure. Bucky, however, makes a point of ignoring your expression and your reaction by handing over the whiskey once more. You snatch it from his hands quickly. There’s a look on your face that makes his chest ache. With one last pass over him with your eyes, you take a long swig.

You feel like crying.

You won’t, though. Not now. Not while he does this.

You deserve this.

And holy fucking hell does it hurt. It’s like someone’s taken a hot poker and punctured your skin, then rotated it around and around and around. You can feel every time the tweezers touch the bullet because the metallic little click echoes in your chest. It’s enough to make your head spin, and you grit your teeth and close your eyes and try to breathe — but even after a handful of minutes, when Bucky finally retrieves the slug, there’s no relief. Just a desperate throb.

Your hands are shaking when you reach for the whiskey once more.

You do cry, finally, when Bucky packs the hole.

He rolls the gauze up tightly into a cylinder and, as gently as he can, pushes it in.

It’s a horrible choke of pain that you smother into your palm and pant through. It reminds you to breathe, and while you stare up at the water damage on the kitchen ceiling, Bucky tapes a square piece of gauze over the bruised wound and wraps your shoulder tightly. He takes his time, but there’s a curtness to his actions.

Finally, when he begins to clean up the mess of bloodied gauze, you speak.

“If you’re mad at me, then just say it.”

He snaps almost immediately, like a kicked dog. “And say what, Rabbit? That I almost lost you?”

Your mouth slips shut.

Bucky pauses what he’s doing. He drops the gauze onto the towel and he bares both hands against the counter top. He leans and exhales and drops his own head back — then, you can see his own waves of anxiety knocking him against the shore of composure. His eyes move back and forth, he inhales, and then after a long while he speaks.

It’s calmer. Not so horribly mean.

“You should have told me about Alexei.”

You go to speak — but he stops you.

“I mean really, really told me,” he explains, “Had I known he wanted your fucking head mounted on a spike, I would have kept you far away from that place.”

“We had to—”

“No,” he says sternly, standing up full height, “No, we didn’t. We never have to do anything that’s going to put you in danger. Never. I won’t do it again. You should have fuckin’ told me.”

You’re quiet.

“A few more inches to the right,” he says, gesturing to your throat with his finger. His eyes are expressive and he’s speaking like he’s lived this experience, “You’d be dead. Cold and dead and I’d be here, carrying the fucking guilt around with me because I wouldn’t have been able to do anything.”

His voice splinters at the end — but he’s moved to throw away the gauze and dump the tweezers in the sink. He can’t look at you as he says it, and you know that. Because, just like before, people like you and him have a hard time looking the truth in the eyes.

You slide off the counter.

Your heart is sad. It’s heavy and mournful and weighed down with guilt.

“Bucky.”

It’s soft. He’s scrubbing your blood from his hands.

He doesn’t turn around. He can’t. He can feel the prick of an anxious breakdown beginning to climb into his eyes. Instead, he scrubs and scrubs and scrubs and your blood is stuck in the plating of his hand and it’s not going to come out—

Think of what could have happened if it had been a few inches to the right. The arched spray. Blood everywhere. She can’t speak through the gargle, she’s going cold, she’s gone. And, like always, you’re alone again, Bucky.

Then, your hands are on his.

The touch is enough to stop him. It’s enough for him to move aside at the large, inset kitchen sink. You exhale slowly as you run the water a little warmer and gingerly run his hands under the tap. Your hands are smaller than his, a bit more delicate, and he’s stunned into a sharp silence at the feeling of your fingertips gently washing away the crimson blood.

You grab another dish towel from a drawer beside the stove.

Then, in the dim light of the kitchen, you take both his hands and dry them.

It’s the vibranium hand that you pay special attention to, though. And Bucky feels like a fucking idiot — just standing there, just watching as you run the rag between the gilded plating and use gentle pressure to get into the harder to reach spots. You turn it over, and you dry his knuckles.

You take your time.

You don’t look up when you speak. You’re focused. Almost reverent.

He doesn’t deserve this.

“I’m not afraid of you,” you say sternly.

His mouth is dry. “Rabbit…”

Bucky shifts on his feet and takes a deep inhale. He feels lightheaded.

The whiskey, and the closeness of the two of you, makes your skin warm. His whole nervous system feels like it’s on fire.

“I didn’t mean to stare, I don’t ever mean to,” you apologize as your hands still over his arm. He watches your irises trace the plating above his wrist. The rag is forgotten, its purpose null. Your words are heavy, and Bucky can hear a little shake in them as you swallow, “I just… think it’s beautiful.”

You’re beautiful.

Even now, blood-soaked and sweat-stained. With makeup running down your cheeks and your composure in shambles. Even now, on the run and apparently wanted, you’re incredibly beautiful. Bucky hates how easy it is to admit and how hard it is to keep off his tongue. It nearly gets the better of him. He watches your eyelashes flutter. When you look up at him, the world is suddenly drowned in honey.

“I’m sorry.”

You mean it.

Your bottom lip wobbles.

Bucky, immediately, regrets being so goddamn cold.

You were just trying to help — you were just trying to do the right thing.

“Stop it. Come here.”

The hug is the first time you can remember touching him like this. You think you’ll always remember it, too. It’s sturdy and warm and gentle and honest and you bury your face into the shoulder as his arms come up around your neck. He’s careful of your own injured shoulder, and his fingers find the base of your neck. Around his waist, your fingers dig into the back of his shirt. Both of you ground yourselves in the other’s arms, and for the first time in a handful of hours, you both find peace.

Quiet, sturdy, lovely peace.

And the two of you stay like that for a while in the quiet little kitchen.

It’s not until Climber’s voice rises from the living room that you’re pulled away from Bucky — and even then, your face linger inches from one another for a moment too long. Neither of you say a word, only swallow down confessions that could have been, and move on.

“Oh, girlie, you’re gonna wanna see this.”

Bucky frowns. With your brows knotted tightly together, you weave through the kitchen and back into the living room.

Kiwi has sat up and both her and Climber have their eyes on the bulky flat screen on the dust-covered entertainment center. It’s cable news, and as Climber leans to turn the television up, a picture of you flashes across the screen.

It’s a photo from your arrest six months ago.

“Local authorities are asking that anyone with information on the whereabouts of this young woman call the FBI’s anonymous tip line—”

“Is there a reward?” Climber whispers almost excitedly, eyes on the screen.

“—Authorities are offering $100,000 dollars to the person who provides enough information to lead up to this dangerous fugitive’s capture.”

“Dangerous fugitive?” hisses Bucky.

“A hundred thousand dollars?” cries Kiwi, “Who the fuck did you piss off?”

You inhale deeply as you wave your hands. “The bigger question is who the fuck knew I was going to The Glass Cannon last night. Because they’re looking for me — not you.”

You point at Bucky and the gears are turning in your head.

The pacing is almost immediate, and Bucky crosses his arms tightly as you begin to walk back and forth behind the full length couch that Climber is currently spread out on.

It’s cut short, though, by Kiwi’s laptop chiming successfully.

“Well,” she stands quickly, “I have a feeling that someone knows you’re onto them. And the facial recognition software just got a match. A three point one, too.”

Your eyes brighten.

You’d given Kiwi the photo of the young Innessa, with all her decorated furs and blonde curls. She’s laughing and she’s young and she’s in love and it’s hard for you to imagine a woman like her to be dangerous. While you’d made sure Bucky was propped up comfortably on the couch and then finally calmed down from the adrenaline high enough to get comfortable yourself, Kiwi had dug out the hard-drive she kept on her at all times and began pulling data from the Alexandria Library files.

It had been a handful of hours, so it was clear that Innessa had hid herself well in the vast, expansive database SHIELD kept for all those years while it was in operation.

Bucky is quick to gather behind Kiwi, eyes scanning the screen.

Sure enough, when you come to look at the photos pulled up on Kiwi’s screen, there’s a hit. There’s an identification card photo of an older woman, maybe in her forties, pulled up alongside the photo Bucky had given you. Her hair is no longer blonde, but deep auburn color. She’s marked as having worked with Rumlow — a supervisor of some sort. Makes sense. You didn’t need to see a picture of Crossbones to remember Brock. Even when you’d interned, he’d been infamous.

And that was when he was one of the good guys.

There’s a handful of other photos of her — candids, professional photos, and even one where she is shaking Tony Stark’s hand.

And in all of them, you see your next door neighbor Bonnie McLayne.

“Fuck.”

Bucky blinks. Kiwi turns to look at you over her shoulder.

Again, you speak. Your eyes are wide. You can’t look away from the screen.

“Fuck, fuck. Fuck. Fuck.”

“Rabbit…?”

“Fuck.”

Bucky’s face narrows considerably, confusion melting to make room for realization.

His voice is quiet.

“Do you know her?”

“Oh my god,” you say loudly, shaking your head and blinking, “Oh my fucking god, that’s my neighbor.”

Bucky can feel his whole face go clammy.

“The neighbor who—”

“—Who I showed your fucking picture to,” you nearly shriek, “Like it was some cute little matchmaking game!”

Immediately both hands are over your face as you throw your head back. Now, the pacing has begun, and like you’re being carried on autopilot, you begin to move back and forth and back and forth and—

“You don’t think she’d hurt Poke, do you?”

“Rabbit.”

“Oh god, oh god—”

Oh.

Oh, you’re having a panic attack.

Oh, that was quick. Brutally fast. Nearly immediate.

After all, she knows where your family lives. She gets Holiday cards from mom to give to you. She’s been your closest friend for nearly six years. But she’s not Bonnie, she’s Innessa fucking Sidrova. She’s seen you with Bucky. She knows — she knows a lot and you don’t know anything and you’re miles from home, from Poke, from Mom, from Ana… Oh, god, the baby. The baby.

“The baby.”

Bucky’s voice is level. “Rabbit, you gotta calm down.”

“I have to call my mom.”

“No,” Kiwi snaps immediately, “They’re going to be watching for your cell phone pings. No calls, no texting, none of it. And god forbid this woman is one step ahead of the FBI—”

“Oh, god.”

You gasp like a fish out of water, paralyzing fear sending you to lean against the back of the couch.

You claw at your chest and try to remember what Dr. Hart said about these sorts of moments. Square breathing. In and hold and out and hold. Again and again.  

“Sit down,” Bucky says as he returns to your side, nearly sweeping you up long enough to plop you down into the armchair from before, “And do me a favor and breathe.”

The whiskey isn’t helping right now.

“I’m trying.”

Another gasped breath.

Climber and Kiwi watch.

Bucky shakes his head sternly, kneeling on one knee and snagging your hands. “Don’t try. Just do it. You can do it. Just follow my lead — you’re the sidekick, after all. Remember? C’mon. There’s the smile. Breathe.”

So you do.

In, hold. Out, hold. You draw a square with one hand on your jeans and hold onto Bucky’s with the other.

Again, in and hold. Out and hold.

And again.

And then, you just listen to Bucky’s breathing.

You’re not sure how long it takes — half an hour, ten minutes, who knows — but finally you’re able to calm the spiraling thoughts in your head. Finally, the loudness quiets down, you catch your breath, and the world isn’t falling apart. The bite of anxiety still remains in the hollow of your chest and Bucky can see that when you finally open your eyes and squeeze his hand.

There’s that look again between the two of you. The one from before, in the kitchen.

“Good?” he asks quietly, blue eyes swimming with some sort of emotion you can’t really pin down. Not now. Maybe, if you’d been a bit more collected, you would have seen it as infatuation. But, no. It’s just… nice.

You swallow and nod.

“Damn, girl,” says Climber from his spot on the couch, “Now I’m starting to get the whole therapy thing.”

“Thanks, dickhead.”

“That’s recent, isn’t it?” he asks, genuine worry crossing his face as he stands to gently pass a hand over your back, “I don’t remember it ever being this bad.”

Your face is sad. “I was just partying through it back then. Distraction was always the best method and then… When I had no more distractions and it was just me? Alone? And, psh, the accident with Jaimie? It got worse. So much worse.”

Climber’s eyes soften. “I’m sorry, bunny.”

You try to put on a brave face.

Bucky stands from in front of you and begins his own pacing. This one isn’t so much born out of anxious nature — but more of a tactical logic born out of keeping you safe.

This wasn’t exactly the turn he was expecting.

“You didn’t recognize her?” he asks after a moment, voice high and tight.

“I’m sorry,” you wave a hand, exasperated, “She doesn’t exactly look the same as she did in the 70s.”

Kiwi frowns at the screen. “Definitely botox.”

Bucky squints. He looks to you for an explanation.

You vaguely gesture to your face.

His brow lifts, he closes his eyes, and he sighs.

Kiwi is next to pipe up. “It explains why the feds are looking for you, especially if she saw you with the one man she knows is looking to hunt her down — so, I think it’s best the both of you lay low for a couple of days.”

“Not to mention,” Climber wags a finger, “Bucky the Babe over here did just piss off one the smaller Russian crime families in New York. So, there’s always that ontop of the evil Nazi-HYDRA-woman-next-door.”

You groan.

“Poke has enough food for a week,” Bucky says nearly reading your mind, “He’ll be fine.”

“So, what? We just wait here? Until something happens?”

“Sidrova is going to try and bait us out,” Bucky mutters, “She knows she can’t just disappear. She’s been settled for too long and we know too much. Engaging us in an altercation is how she’ll do it. Plus, I have a feeling she wouldn’t pass up an opportunity to shoot me in the knees after a few decades. So, we wait.”

“Few decades?” Kiwi whispers.

“How old are you?” Climber asks.

“Hundred and six.”

Both of them just blink at an unphased Bucky.

You sigh, finally standing on wobbly legs. “This feels like a bad idea. I’m just stating that for the record.”

“Better than her hunting the both of you down,” Kiwi supplies, “You can stay here. There’s cable, there’s booze, and there’s plenty of instant ramen to last you until winter.”

“Stale cereal, too.”

“Wait— where are you two going?” you ask, narrowing your eyes, “You’re leaving?”

“Keeping our hands clean,” Kiwi says, closing her laptop, “And letting you be the sidekick, bunny.”

The sadness in your heart grows a little heavier at those words, but there’s a little bit of pride in Kiwi’s tone. As she stands, she moves to wrap her arms around you in a gentle hug. Quietly, she murmurs into your hair.

“Your dad would be proud of you, y’know.”

Bucky watches.

Climber is next, and that hug is bigger, more brotherly, more like sunshine and less like autumn.

“Don’t be a stranger, Rabbit.”

“I’m sorry,” you blurt out as the two of them gather their belongings, “For dragging you both into this. But, thank you. You didn’t have to help me—”

“Yeah, we did,” Kiwi chirps as she knocks Bucky on the arm three times, “Keep her safe, aakarshak purush.”

The Hindi rolls off her tongue with ease.

Bucky laughs. “Bahut lamba.”

Kiwi pauses mid-step. She narrows her eyes. There’s a smile on her lips. “Your pronunciation isn’t bad.”

He shrugs plainly. “I get lunch almost everyday at the Indian place below my apartment, so. The owner has been teaching me some stuff on the side.”

An approving nod.

Kiwi hucks you the keys across the room.

She points at Bucky.

“I like him. Try not to fuck that up, eh?”

And then, the two of them are gone.

And it’s just you and Bucky in the empty apartment.

[bubblegumbi0tch]

The Vacation

Warrings: Creampie and public sex 

"Ladies and gentlemen, please clip on your seat belts and get ready for the time of your lives. The safety precautions are as follows on the screen. Thank you for flying with Peach Aviation, where every journey is exciting. The flight attendant's voice echoed throughout the airplane. After clipping on your seat belt for the landing to Brazil where Oikawa was taking you, you turned towards him. "You seriously want me to believe that this was spontaneous and not a planned vacation." Yup!" He stated, popping the p. "You seem thrilled today." You reported. "Obviously, you have put up with me for four years, and you are still here. "He smiled softly up at you. "Plus... There's the fact that I am about to get some." "Who said that? What makes you sure you are going to get some?" You unclipped the belt and got up, taking hold of your handbag next to you.

"What?! Seriously Y/N…princess?" He followed you out of the plane. What you saw in the open-air took your breath away. All around you, there are lush green mountains, sounds of seagulls, and the waves crashing entered your ears. The beautiful architecture is all around you. You turned around to face Oikawa, only to bump into his chest. His muscular arms wrapped around you stable. "Took your breath away, didn't it?" He questioned. "Happened to me too, just like the very first time I saw you, in that little black dress and heels during one of my first games, I knew I had to have you." He smiled down at you. It's beautiful, Tooru. I don't have words to explain, but it really is." You stated. "I know. When I talked to Hinata about a good place to take you, he recommended a nice beach. We visit him before we go. He stated. "Happy Anniversary, princess. "He whispered you. "Tooru, I don't know what to say. You really didn't have to do this." "You could express your gratitude by giving me a Thank-you kiss for one! "He smirked. You kissed him with all the emotions inside you. At that moment, it was just you two, two lovers kissing without any care, as their lips tangoed perfectly together. 

"You want to spend all your weekend here at the airport or actually go down to the hotel?" He pulled away. "It's a  five-minute walk from here." "Let's go!" You exclaimed excitedly and then dragged him down the out of the airport you're rolling luggage in hand and to the pathway, half cemented and half not. You marveled at the beauty of the scenery. It was stunning. The birds chirped, and the wind blew perfectly. He clasped his hand into yours. According to Oikawa, you were the prettiest girl he's ever seen. As the two of you walk both near the hotel's main doors, Oikawa checks in, and the bellhop gets your bags. As you open the door to your room, Oikawa suddenly stopped and turned to you, only to pick you up by the knees and the shoulder, bridal style. 

You squealed in surprise. "What in the heavens are you doing, Tooru?" You threw your head back in laughter. Carrying you inside our room, what else?" And then he spun around, with you in his arms. 

"Tooru !" You squealed again. 

"Keep practicing princess, you are going to need it tonight." This caused your checks to heat up. 

As Oikawa walked in further inside the room, your eyes slipped onto the glass wall on the opposite side, which gave you a perfect view of the ocean. 

"You know only married couples do this?" You questioned as you walked over to the wall. 

You heard him shuffling but paid no heed; you were far more invested in the view. "I know, but you have to admit you like it. Imagine being Mrs. Oikawa … Oikawa (y/n) has a nice ring to it, don't you think" he smiles. You nod at him. "Now, love, why don't we head over to the beach? We can watch the sunset together. As the both of you get changes, Oikawa's jaw drops the second you walk out of the bathroom wearing a bathing suit that hugs you in all the right places. Accentuating the best parts of your body. "Wow (y/n), you look amazing." You see his eyes sparkle a light blush cover his cheeks. You smile at him as he holds your hand, leading you down to the beach. 

As you walk down to the beach, you hear the gentle washing of the waves sings a lullaby to your ears. You have always loved the sound of the ocean, so serene yet holding so much power. 'Thank you again for bringing me here, love.' You tell Oikawa as he sets up a towel. "Anything for you princess you how much I like to spoil you." The two of you are sat on a towel by the beach, watching the sun paint its oranges and yellows in the sky. You were distracted by the sky that you didn't see Oikawa get up on one knee; he holds your face in his palm, gently Turing you to him. "Y/N L/N, my girlfriend, my love, and my heart. I know I am not the most deserving man on this planet. I have made my fair share of mistakes. But you have changed that. You have been a source of light in one of the darkest periods of my life, so today, I am asking you will you let me be your light? Will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?" By the time his speech ended, tears were streaming down your face.

"Yes! Yes! Thousand times, yes." You nodded. 

Oikawa got up from his position, grabbing your hand and slipping on the diamond on your finger. 

"You have made me the happiest man alive on this planet, Y/N." He stated. "I love you, Mrs. Oikawa."

"And I love you, Mr. Oikawa." He pulled you into a deep passionate kiss, your saliva mixing. When you pull apart, a string connects the two of you. You look around and notice that you two are the only ones left on the beach. That "Let's go swimming princess" he starts running towards the water. You feel your feet sinking into the soft sand. You pad after him towards the calm, beckoning water. Oikawa smirks at you. You screech into the quiet beach when he all of a sudden picks you up and carries you bridal-style into the sea. Bringing you further into the sea and complaining about the cold water. A droplet of water is trickling along the edge of his jaw; your focus is transfixed at its smooth descent to his chin. Your bodies are bobbing with the calm waves, up, down, up, down. 

Then your eyes lock, you feel a heat building up inside you. Oikawa looks at you and sears a mark in you, and it's burning like the flames of hell all the way down to your core. With the side of his finger, he doesn't need to so much as touch you to tip your head up his way because that's how willing you are. One tilt, that's all it takes to kiss him right now. His fingers are sinking into your tender waist, and immediately you need to feel inside you. "I love you, princess" He slides his cheek against yours and traces the bridge of your nose with the tip of his. He dips his face in closer to your lips, nearing one another. You taste the sea on his lips, salt, and cold. It feels like diving into the ocean, plunging into the deep blue, and simply allowing your body to be swept away. His kiss is greedy, hungry, willing you to submit to him and follow his lead. 

Legs wrapping around his torso in the water, his hands caress up your thighs to your ass, digging into your plump flesh with an ardor that releases damp arousal from your slit. Your own fingers grope down his chest and toy with his hair, scratching and tugging. When he nibbles on your bottom lip, and you know that you're done for. You melt like putty in his control, meeting his tongue with soft obedience you don't usually exert. Tooru .' You gasp into his mouth. 'I told you that you were gonna be screaming my name tonight, (y/n).' he says before diving back into you. Those words send the possessive animal in your mind wild with satisfaction. 

Because yes, he's all yours tonight. When you feel his stiff length poke underneath you, your cunt is set ablaze with desire. Desire to sink down onto him this instant and have him pound into you amidst the ocean until you both feel faint. The desire for him to break you in half with all his might, make your eyes water with from the pleasure he stabs into you. He holds you as the both of you walk to shore together. Lips never leaving one another's. His mouth travels down to your breasts, and he doesn't hesitate to devour them from your bathing suit, suckling angry red/ purple marks down your cleavage and around your nipples. Though clothed, the prominence of his big cock burrows between your wide-open entrance, rubbing against your bikini-clad clit and making you thrust your hips further into him. 

Enjoying the euphoria from his touch, you don't realize you're on land until he gently falls onto his knees and carefully places you on the towels below him. You pull him by the neck onto you. As he kisses a torching trail down your wet body, your mind is somewhere else in heaven that worships your fiancé Oikawa. His large hands kneading your exposed breasts, the wisp of his breath tingles down your stomach, tying a knot in your core. His teeth, he obscenely tugs lose the string that ties your bikini bottom together. The fabric falls loose lifelessly, revealing your soaking cunt, shimmering with want for him.

‘So wet (y/n) .’ He muses as he kisses your pelvis, finger stroking up your slick to gather the liquid of your arousal. Then he prods his finger into your mouth, your tongue compliantly lapping up your own taste, salty from the sea. 'Who made you this wet, mmm?'

'You.' You're practically pleading as he sucks viciously at your inner thigh, so close to your weeping pussy. I want you to scream my name by the time we're done." When he first links his lips to your clit, your hips buckle upwards, and fingers fly to entangle his chestnut hair. Sucking harshly on your sensitive bud, all you're capable of is squirming and writhing underneath him. The sensation of his mouth sucking on your succulence sends a shot of ecstasy down your quaking legs. Your head feels dizzy.

'"Fuck!' You whine. "You like that, princess ?' When he looks up at you, a wet smirk on his lips breathing hot air into your cunt, a coil winds in your stomach. T-Tooru.' Your grip on his hair tightens.

Then he's gorging you like a feast, tongue fluttering on your swollen bundle of nerves, your kryptonite, teeth scraping along your folds seductively. After several licks of your entrance, he pushes two digits into your gummy cunt. The ease in, lubricated by your moist walls that welcome the pressure of his intrusion into you like the open sea. He draws wide circles inside you, and it feels like your innards are being stirred to perfection by a metal rod. In the meantime, his assault on your clit doesn't falter, rhythmically hitting his tongue against you. Allowing the vibrations of his humming to penetrate your core. Looking down, this is simply the most beautiful sight you've ever witnessed. Oikawa's brown eyes glimpsing up at you hungrily, face buried nose-deep in your pussy. Hands gripping under your thighs that are rested on his shoulders, the beautiful scenery of the sunset, its glow onto you, and the ocean in the background play a symphony to your moans and his filthy slurps.

Suddenly, an explosion of pleasure arrives at your clit. 'Oh, fuck yes!' You screech, throat raw from the pure elation that washes over you. The throbbing in your cunt releases at his continuous friction, pulsating so wildly you think you will burst. His fingers pump out your high as he sucks one last time, long and hard, on your beating clit. 'Ah… Oh my god… Tooru…' he emerges from between your legs to breathe. You watch as your fluid dribble down his chin lewdly, your thumb swipes to catch the wetness.

'How was that?' Untangling his arms from your legs, he walks up on his elbows to meet your lips in a tender kiss.

'Wow.' You utter against his mouth, eyes rolling to the back of your head for dramatic effect. 'Let's continue back in our room.' Quickly you do up your bikini, impatient for more.

Without needing another word, Oikawa sweeps you into his arms, gathers all your belongings, and hastily carries you back to your hotel located just a minute away from the beach. Although, it takes much longer than a minute for you to arrive, seeing as multiple detours are made along the way, fondling behind a tree, kissing in the elevator, and missing your floor. 

And when you're finally in the confines of your shared room, he pins you to the closed door, not even bothering to switch on the lights, lips latched onto your magnetizing neck. Your wrists trapped in his grip against the hardwood, you ache to touch him as his teeth find your earlobe. Nipping at your soft round flesh, a pleasant shock is sent down your spine at the twinge of pain. 'Tooru…' You sigh. He pulls away to stare into your beseeching eyes. 'What do you want me to do to you, princess?' His voice is a low grumble of dominance, digging its talons into your brain.

'I want… I want you to fuck me until I cry.' In the dark of the room, your attention flickers to the sunset terrace outside. 'Right on that balcony over there.'

Something in his eyes ignites at your suggestion. Filled with lust, he brings you through the glass door that opens to the fresh setting night. 'You want me to fuck you right here, princess? For everyone to see?' Danger lurking one kiss away, you sense the precarious position his mind is at. So you reach down and grab his hard cock over his shorts and tip his mind to a carnal desire. 

'P-please, Tooru.' The name is the last straw for him. His breath hitches as you tug down his pants and allow his enormous cock to spring free. Spinning you around roughly, he bends you over onto the rail of the balcony and strips off your swimsuit in one deft gesture. From here, you have an unobstructed view of the coast, lined by bustling bars and closing restaurants. The neighboring terraces are a meters away; if anyone walks out now, they would horrifically witness Oikawa about to pound into you from behind. Your heart is beating in the excitement of the risk as well as the anticipation of his cock. Not being able to see him, he can thrust into you any moment now; he must be reveling in such control he holds. Then you feel it, his large thick round tip pressing against your entrance curiously. Your legs shake expectantly while fresh arousal leaks out of you, mixing with his precum he's plowing into you. 'Begone more time for me (y/n). Please, Tooru.' Allowing the words to drag out on your tongue, you twist your neck to look at him with large pleading eyes. He looks like a king, towering over you with this much assertion, relishing in the power he holds above you in this very moment. 

Hands holding your hips in place, he slams his thick member into your gaping tight pussy in one forceful plunge. You can't help but cry out at the sheer stretch of your walls he's spanning. fuck, he's so big he makes it feels like your first time together all over again. All you think at first is an incredible cinching of your core, the ache of him impaling his rigid shaft through the resisting pressure of your tight pussy. He's fucking massive. He seems to know it as well because he gives you a second to adjust to his size, palm scaling smoothly up the hill of your back to gather your hair in his hand. Then he is pummelling into you, hips slapping against your bottom, ringing such vulgar sounds in your ears. His cock, hard as if carved from marble, piercing through the pain and molding a thing of sweet, sweet pleasure inside you. You grip the rail so tight its edge gouges marks into your skin, your head hung low between your tense arms.

'Fu-uckk princess, you ohhh feel so good around me," he groans. At this angle, his cock is curving up the wrong way into you, jabbing in places that make you go crazy. A part of your soul is no longer with you, propelled elsewhere by his ceaseless merciless attack on your pussy. You feel a sting on your butt. He spanks a searing hot mark into your ass cheek. The sharp pain is refreshing alongside the dull ache behind the euphoric throb he is penetrating into you. "Princess, I love hearing your whimpers their so cute" Another slap echoes in your ears, and you welcome it by curving your back more to tip your tush higher for him.

'Tooru, you fuck me so good.' you egg him on further, stroking his ego as your tight squishy walls are clenching his dick. Pounding into you with such vigor and violence that your folds are beginning to sting. 

Moans that fall from his lips tingle at your clit, which you start to play with to add to your stimulation. Another smack on your ass, this time so surprising that you scream out. 'Yes, be loud for me. Let everyone hear how good I make you feel.' He coaxes. Oikawa begins to slow, which you know is a sign that he's close but doesn't cum yet. He bends over you, your hair still tied around his wrist, and nips at the shell of your ear. You've never known your ear to be such a sensitive area, for when his tongue flickers at your inner shell, a shudder convulses through you. Leaving slobbery kisses down the curve of your shoulder. 

You wanna Finish on the bed, princess ?' You nod, and Oikawa embraces you from behind; his strong arm comes under your cold lonely breasts that perk up at his attention, his wet cock sitting between your red ass cheeks. The hum of his deep rasp on your neck sends your head lolling back onto his sweat-covered chest. His lips seal yours as he walks you back into the room, leaving the glass door open for the night breeze to grace you. Amidst the rough sex, you treasure such a soft, delicate moment on your tongue, delighting in the way the tips of his fingers trace up your side. When his hand slithers up to your face, you melt into the warm flesh of his palm, mouth opening up for him to unfurl into.

Then the back of your knees hit the bed, and you know it's about to begin again. Without breaking the union of your lips, you clamber onto the sheets with his frame hovering over you. Grappling on his neck, you drag Oikawa on top of you as your head sinks down onto the plush of the pillow.

He sucks on your plump bottom lip one last time before pulling away. Fluid still profusely oozing out of the slit of his tip, he perches between your legs. 'How do you want it, my future wife?' His tone is endearing, yet eyes his eyes are hungry.

Impatient for him to fill you to the brim again, you lift both your legs up for him to grab and place onto his shoulders. 'Like this please, husband.' That's all you have to say for him to grunt okay and push deep into you, knees digging into the mattress. In this position, his cock reaches your cervix without hindrance, his swollen head slamming into your end every thrust he gives. It's a different type of ache this time, more targeted at the one sensitive spot inside you. As he continues, you thrust into you, balls swinging at your ass, a build-up of sensitivity gathers at your core.

You feel it approaching, that imminent contortion of your cunt, looming over you, on the brink of toppling your senses.

'Keep going.' You whimper the filthy feeling of his prick hammering so fast into you enough to bring tears to your eyes. You try to keep them open, watch his tongue poke out in concentration as he watches your body quiver under his. But the intensity of his fucking is truly too overwhelming that a single droplet leaks out and flows down your temple. 'I'm so close.' Oikawa moans, pecking the bone of your ankle. Something ruptures within him; with an even more arduous determination, he drives into your walls like a crazed beast. The sole purpose now is to reach the climax awaiting him; he spreads your legs open wide before him and rabidly plunges his twitching cock.

And for the second and third time this night, your orgasm hits you, one immediately followed by the other. 'Tooru, I'm-' You're a crying thrashing mess beneath him, drool dribbling out of your mouth and teary eyes, the ecstatic pleasure obliterating your mind into ruins as your cunt erupts. The string of profanities that leave you sound incoherent to your own hearing.

You won't be able to walk straight tomorrow; you're sure of it.

Oikawa watches you break on his cock, walls tightening impossibly around him. "(Y/n) I'm gonna cum. Can I cum inside you?" His thrusts start to get sloppy than what they were from the beginning. He starts to pound into and with one final thrust, he shoots his cum in spurts deep inside you. He pulls himself out a string of cum attached to his tip. He sees you haven't moved in your original position, still dazed out from what just happened. He spreads your puffy lips apart. He sees his cum seeping out of you and onto the bed. Oikawa leans down and touches your cheek; you snap out of your trance. "amazing, Tooru." You were too tired to finish your sentence. Oikawa smiles "you were fantastic; I'm so lucky to have you as my future wife." He kissed your temple and carried you off to the bath. 

Requests are open ᡕᠵ᠊ᡃ່࡚ࠢ࠘ ⸝່ࠡࠣ᠊߯᠆ࠣ࠘ᡁࠣ࠘᠊᠊ࠢ࠘𐡏⊹ ♥︎

[missjaystone]

“Don’t Wake Up”

Pairing(s): Steve Rogers x Reader | Bucky Barnes x Reader Summary: Work keeps you busy. That's why as long as Steve's gentle and doesn't wake you up, he's free to do what he wants while you sleep, but what he wants is his best friend to feel what he feels. Word Count: 1,800

Trigger Warning(s): Somnophilia, NonCon/DubCon, Drugging Please DO NOT ignore trigger warnings and read at your own discretion.

Life was unpredictable, anybody who knew exactly how their life would go was either omnipotent or the most boring being alive. Early on you learned to roll with life's punches and that's how you were where you were right now. A top SHIELD agent trusted with a great deal of knowledge and an almost insane amount of clearance, working closing with the Avengers. You rose thru SHIELD's ranks fairly quickly, especially for someone of your age. You were mid-level when they unfroze Captain America. You were one of the people entrusted with the task of helping Steve warm up to this new 21st-century society, pun not intended.

Once the initial shock of being thrust into this world had worn off, you and Steve developed a comfortable and vital friendship. You two spoke multiple times a day and saw each other frequently. The two of you were together so often, people used to joke that if one of you was around, the other wasn't far behind and they usually weren't wrong. It was no secret nobody was surprised when Tony loudly made a scene when he saw you two sharing a New Year's kiss. Tony shouting "I knew they'd end up together! I fucking knew it!" to everyone on the Avengers team and a handful of SHIELD agents wasn't how you two intended on exposing your relationship, but life is unpredictable.

Things around you gradually became more complex but that wasn't a surprise, you just kept rolling with the punches. The battle of New York happened, Ultron happened, Hydra's infiltration of SHIELD happened, the team grew, the entire situation with the Sokovia Accords happened, the complexities already on your plates multiplied. Of course, you stuck with Steve thru everything, you never stopped having faith in him. There were a handful of times where you could've turned and stopped fighting but how could you abandon your Captain? You loved him. Over the years all the fights, all the curveballs, everything wore on you both and the two of you had to change with the times and adapt to your surroundings. You were both changing before each other. There were times where you didn't see each other for weeks at a time; Steve would get busy with his missions around the globe and you had a mountain of SHIELD files to deal with; drives that had to be decrypted and stored properly, reports that had to go to a dozen different people, agents to recruit and review, clips to scour with minute details.

Things got a little bumpy when Bucky came to stay at the tower; Steve trying to help his oldest friend get accustomed to everything and you helping any way you could. You couldn't bear the thought of telling Steve when you started to feel uncomfortable around the brunette. The lingering stares, the prolonged hugs, the borderline-peculiar conversations; you brushed it all off. This was a man who spent 70 years as a mind-controlled assassin, he had everything ripped from him and now he had to readjust to modern society. He had to learn how to form relationships again, he had to relearn everything so there were bound to be moments of discomfort as he navigated his way. In all of that, however, you missed the small frowns and brooding moments he had whenever you and Steve were being overly affectionate together. He'd never do anything about it though, you were Steve's. He'd had his fair share of ladies back in their time but you were Steve's girl, you made Steve happy and Bucky couldn't-wouldn't take that from him.

When your workload multiplied again, you weren't as available as you used to be and it wore on Steve a bit. He and his super-soldier stamina had gotten used to a certain level of intimacy that wasn't happening anymore. It came to a head one night when Steve was in the mood but you were too tired to even pretend. Your words were mumbled as you snuggled against your pillow but Steve heard them loud and clear "do whatever you need to get off, baby, just don't wake me up." He asked if you were sure and got a hum in response but that didn't entirely suffice. He gave your shoulders a small shake until you turned to look at him. You looked tired and were so close to kicking him out of bed "Stevie, do whatever you want just please let me sleep."

You two still had sex other times, they were more intimate and personal though. In a mildly humorous way, that seemed to boost your relationship some. You'd wake up the morning feeling surprisingly peaceful for a few minutes before your work to-do list came to mind and Steve found out he enjoyed the idea of doing something he wasn't supposed to. He'd made it into his own little game; how much could he do without waking you up?

Tonight, you had your nose buried in your computer screen and papers were strewn across the bed; you were already exhausted but you still had a number of things to finish. You were pulled out of your hype focused state when the bed dipped beside you. The blue-eyed man offered you a cup of water with a sweet smile "come on, I haven't seen you drink anything in over an hour." You thanked him with a quick peck before taking a long and much-needed drink, thanking him when you set the nearly-empty cup back down.

Time felt like it began to drag on slowly, heavy tiredness slowly enveloping you throughout the next hour. You didn't even realize you'd dozed off until Steve was gently laying you down, pulling the blankets over you. "Steve, I still have work to do," you forced yourself to mumble, everything just felt heavy. "You can't even keep your eyes open, finish it in the morning," he said softly. He hushed you when you tried to object "Captain's orders, doll." You couldn't argue with that. Literally, there wasn't an ounce of strength or a grain of energy to fuel a disagreement. You were out like a light in a manner of seconds.

The blond stayed snuggled up beside you, stroking your hair soothingly to lull you into a deep sleep. No more than ten minutes had passed before the door opened and closed without a sound. An unsure Bucky stood by the dresser with his hands in his pockets and spoke quietly "are you sure about this Steve?" He nodded "I'm positive, Buck. I wouldn't have suggested it if I wasn't sure about it. I see the way you look at her, you deserve happiness too y'know." Bucky started to question him but Steve stopped him "she'll love you as much as she does me, Buck, it'll take some time and subliminal messages but she will."

Bucky looked at your sleeping form in thought, you were a nice person; you were smart, helpful, genuine, charming, you made him feel normal. He'd never be normal but if having you made him feel that way, who was he to pass up the opportunity? He quickly shed his pajamas while Steve moved your bottoms down. They'd been planning this for what felt like ages and they knew there'd be no going back, but it gave them a chance at a future they got to actually choose.

A thick silence filled the room as Bucky moved slowly to hover above you, lining himself up at your entrance with a slightly-shaking hand. With one last confirmation look from Steve, he slowly eased himself into you. He bit his lip roughly to keep from groaning and wake you up. The crushed-up Valium in your water should've kept you from waking up at anything but he wasn't taking a chance and getting too caught up in the moment. He finally broke the silence with a mumbled groan after finally bottoming out. Bucky's eyes fell closed and he stilled to savor the feeling, almost cumming right then.

Very slowly, he started to pull his hips back before pushing back in just as slowly. He continued like this for what he thought was ages and when the only response from you was a mumble here or a moan there, he slowly picked up his pace. Steve was in heaven watching the scene unfold in front of him. There was a slight pang in his chest for betraying your trust and not only letting but encouraging his friend to use you but he had a plan, a plan he was confident in. He started off palming his throbbing erection over his sweatpants before eventually pulling them down and fisting his member. There were a few moments where both stilled in fear when you stirred before settling. Bucky finished first, his hips jerking briefly before they stilled, a satisfied groan leaving his lips as he moved some hair out of your face. Steve finished when he watched him slowly pull out and came with a muttered 'fuck'. Steve quickly grabbed a few tissues, handing some to Bucky to clean you up while he took care of himself. Once the evidence was removed, the men shared a tight hug. Bucky actually looked a little more like himself now, he looked the slightest bit happier and more at peace.

In your unconscious and drugged state, all that you really felt was a sort of tugging pressure but you couldn't open your eyes. You heard voices conversing quietly after the pressure was completely gone and you felt the bed move as somebody got up. Despite your best efforts to listen, you couldn't make out the words. It took all of your strength to open your eyes even slightly but you could've sworn you saw a brunette figure leaving the room. There was no time to process it before your eyes fell shut again and you were entirely asleep.

You still felt a bit groggy when you woke up in the morning but nothing seemed out of place. Steve was quick to appear with a couple of mugs of coffee, handing you yours before he took a seat. He planted a sweet kiss on your temple. When you didn't say anything after taking your mug, Steve looked you over "are you feeling okay, doll? Are you coming down with something?" He asked, some concern in his eyes as he placed the back of his hand to your forehead for a temperature check. You finally took his hand and kissed his palm, sending him a smile "I'm fine, baby, just a little groggy is all. Crazy dream is all." Steve smiled sweetly at you “wanna talk about it?" An image of Bucky on top of you flashed across your mind and you shook your head “I don’t even remember what it was about.” You kissed his cheek softly and smiled. After all, it was only a dream.

[samstree]

and the wolf was nowhere to be found (2/3)

Jaskier pays the price of his lies. With blood and tears and a few broken hearts.

(4.3k, lying spell/potion, cursed jaskier, blood and injury, miscommunication, mutual pining)

Previous | Read on AO3

The reverse trope series: [1] [2] [3] [4]. 

Jaskier wakes with a crick in his neck and an aching heart.

He goes through the motion of packing, their morning routine too familiar to distract him from the heavy guilt in his chest. Jaskier wonders if Geralt is actively avoiding him—the way his back is turned at every chance can’t be a coincidence.

The only time he so much as spares a glance is when Jaskier puts the lemon cake in their rations bag, wrapped perfectly and untouched. Geralt stills for a split second, his jaw clenched.

Jaskier wants to brush it off.

Finding an excuse is the first instinct he has, thinking of a lie as to why he didn’t eat something he’s been drooling over for ages, and erase that crestfallen look on Geralt’s face, the one that is breaking his heart.

Because he can’t exactly tell the truth, which is that he’s more likely to be sick if he ate it. Another lie, however, would turn his stomach even more.

Jaskier remains silent.

Even Roach is judging him as they walk out of the stable. Jaskier bears her side eyes and annoyed headbutt without putting up a fight. The mare is too perceptive to miss the tension in the air, and her protectiveness is more than justified. She’s a smart girl. Of course, she knows Jaskier is one making her broody witcher brood even harder.

She tries to bite his doublet again, and it’s Geralt who stops her with a soothing hand down his mane, murmuring confused questions into her ear. Sweet, kind Geralt, who has been rejected by Jaskier so many times for no reason in the past few days, is still trying to defend him.

Jaskier needs to make it right.

“Geralt, look—”

“Master Jaskier!”

Someone in the distance rudely interrupts Jaskier’s nervous attempt. He turns by instinct and watches a boy in lilac doublet jog up to them. He’s so young, no older than twenty, still with that joviality and naïvety in his features. The way his matching doublet and trousers could catch the eyes of any crowd reminds Jaskier of himself in his early years.

“Sweet Melitele, I’m your biggest fan! Oh my…” the boy proclaims, awestruck. “I’ve been following your ballads for years, and now I get to meet you in person!”

Jaskier looks to Geralt and then back at the man.

“Ah, I’m flattered. It’s always nice to meet a fan, but you see—” Jaskier gestures to the horse and the man behind him. “—I’m in a hurry to leave town.”

Besides, he’s in no mood to converse right now. The quicker he can get Geralt alone, the better. With this weight on his chest, Jaskier feels so drained just talking to anyone but his witcher, let alone dealing with an enthusiastic fan.

“Oh but you must listen to my set first!” The boy looks at him expectantly. “I dream of writing a hit song just like Toss a Coin. I could be just as big—”

“I’d love to, but the circumstances won’t allow it.” With the biggest smile plastered on his face, Jaskier dismisses the guy. “I’m sure there’s promise in you, especially now you’ve chosen the correct role model—”

“You can go, Jaskier.”

Jaskier snaps his head to Geralt, confused as to what he just heard.

“We need to leave this morning, my dear. That’s the plan.” Jaskier frowns. “Remember?”

He excuses himself to the young man and drags Geralt away too quickly, too rudely—on another day he’d feel contrite ignoring a fan like this, but today he’s mind is occupied by something much more important.

Once out on the street and alone, Geralt’s befuddled frown deepens. “Why did you—”

“I need to tell you something,” Jaskier interrupts. “Before I say it, I know you will get mad at me, but you have to understand that the past year has been hard on me, Geralt. When you showed up in Oxenfurt out of the blue, I didn’t have enough time to process everything or what it would mean for us to travel together again. That’s why everything is so wrong now and I need to make it right.”

“I know what you want to say.”

The world stops.

All he can see is that pained look on Geralt’s face, the one that’s breaking his heart and making his blood run cold. Of course, he knows, witcher senses and all. As if Jaskier has ever gotten away with lying to Geralt’s face in the past.

“You do?” he breathes, the crack in his voice unmistakable.

Geralt lets out a sigh. He’s not mad. At least, he doesn’t look like he’s angry with Jaskier. “It’s been obvious in the past few days, and I… I do understand.”

“Oh.”

There’s still hope then. Jaskier just needs to come clean and apologize, and, definitely, throw whatever game he’s been playing out the window. They will be fine. The two of them, the bard and the witcher on the path, just like the old days—

“I can leave now,” Geralt starts. “With me gone, you’d be free to stay here for longer. You have so many things to see and so many people to meet. You can go back and talk to the boy. Finally, there’s someone who can wax lyrical with you. It’ll be for the best.”

“What?”

“You don’t need to say it, Jaskier. I can see now that it’s better if we part ways. Let’s not make things more difficult.”

Jaskier stares, gaping like a fish out of water. He can’t believe what he’s hearing, after all this time, after the mountain. Geralt wouldn’t do it.

He wouldn’t.

“You are leaving me here?”

Geralt looks as if he’s stricken. His shoulders tense like every time he wants to appear smaller.

“It’s for the best,” he repeats.

Jaskier shakes his head. “Wait, I thought you understood. I’m sorry, Geralt, for the past few days. I didn’t mean to… I wanted to apologize, so you know I didn’t mean it.”

The smile at the corners of Geralt’s lips is too sad.

“You don’t need to apologize. It wasn’t fair of me to ask it of you to begin with—”

“Ask me what?”

“—Us traveling together again… It was only wishful thinking. There was never a second chance and I never should have gone to find you.”

Jaskier takes a step back, swallowing the lump in his throat. Suddenly the collar of his doublet is too tight and the lute on his back is too heavy. He has to look away from Geralt’s resolute face just to stop the stinging in his eyes.

“You promised…” he mumbles. “You promised not to leave again.”

Geralt falters for a second, his hand resting on Roach’s saddle as if to steady himself. When he answers, his tone is cold, colder than Jaskier can take.

“How can I keep you when everything catches your eye, Jask? You are not made to stay... Not with me. Not after everything that happened.”

Disbelievingly, Jaskier retreats. His hand fists around the strap of his lute case, digging into his palm. “Not made to stay? Seriously?”

“It’s for the—”

“If you tell me it’s for the best one more time, I swear, Geralt…”

“Jaskier.”

Geralt calls out his name without heat like he’s placating an unreasonable child. Jaskier exhales in exasperation.

“Maybe you are right that it was only wishful thinking.” he forces the words out, his heart sinking. “For once it was actually my fault, and you can’t wait to ask for life’s one blessing again.”

“I—”

“Fine. Have at it,” Jaskier hisses. “I don’t care.”

The silence that follows is deafening.

Jaskier lands the biggest lie he’s ever told in this mess. He drags his feet to cooperate, to take him away and put some distance between him and the worst disaster that’s ever descended upon his life.

Roach neighs, but the sound is far-away. Jaskier grabs at the doublet at his chest and wonders if the witcher-shaped hole within can ever be filled.

 ~~

Jaskier doesn’t stop.

He walks into the bustling crowd of the market, heedless of cheery townspeople going about their day, and he keeps walking until the noise dies down.

Jaskier stops at the riverbank with nowhere to go, so he sits down on the ground and finally lets the dam break.

Crying does very little to ease the ache, and yet when the tears bring a release for the pent-up pressure in his chest. It’s hard to feel justified in letting the pain be cried away when he’s so aware of his own faults in the once-again ending of their companionship.

After all, Geralt couldn’t wait to throw him aside on top of that mountain when he’d done nothing wrong. What makes him think Geralt will tolerate him when he intentionally fucks things up.

Jaskier gasps for air, but only a whimper chokes out. How pathetic, to regret the most precious second chance destiny has ever granted him.

Now he knows for sure that he doesn’t deserve to cry, to let himself feel even just slightly better in the wake of his destruction.

Jaskier tries to stifle the tears with a hand at his mouth, and breathes. In and out, one breath after another. It’s like trying to contain a storm threatening to wreck through his entire being.

But he manages, after an eternity.

Jaskier sniffles one last time and wipes away the tear tracks. There’s a tremor in his hands but he pays no mind. The lute case is laying carelessly in the grass where he dropped it. He slings it onto his back and realizes that in a frenzy, he’s left everything else he owns in Roach’s saddlebags.

He could laugh at the idea of going back there, tail between his legs, as if being kicked out of Geralt’s life—for good this time—isn’t humiliating enough. His only hope hangs on the possibility that Geralt may have left his packs at the inn so they don’t have to face each other. Why would Geralt want to see him anyway? The witcher should be long gone.

Jaskier doesn’t make it too far when a streak of lilac pops out of nowhere.

“Oh! Here you are, Master Jaskier. You are a hard man to track down.”

The boy still looks too chirpy for Jaskier’s liking, too bright and too carefree. His mood is soured even further.

“Look, I’m not fit for company today.” Jaskier walks right past the young man, heedless of his insistence. “Mister—what is your name? Maybe you’ll catch me at the next festival if fate allows.”

The boy ignores his deflection and stops right in front of Jaskier’s face, which successfully draws his full attention and pisses him off completely. “I said—”

“Why are you in such a hurry?” The kid doesn’t relent. “I thought the witcher is determined to abandon you for the second time. Don’t you think he’ll stick to it this time?”

Strangely, the other man doesn’t look nearly as young up close. His face is youthful for sure, smooth and unblemished, and yet there’s an inexplicable weariness in his blue eyes. Now that Jaskier notices, these blue eyes look eerily similar to his own. With just the eyes, he could be looking into a mirror.

Jaskier wants to squirm.

“Did no one teach you that eavesdropping is rude?” He pauses, startled. “Wait, a second time… You knew—”

“Oh.” The man looks sheepish. “Can’t blame a fan for keeping tabs on you, can we?”

An overly zealous fan is nothing new, but somehow, this one sends a shiver down Jaskier’s spine.

“If you’ll excuse me,” Jaskier says, trying to back away. “I need to get back to town. You know, where the inspirations are, so I’ll find it in me to… um, compose more of those pieces you love so much.”

“Oh, don’t kid yourself! You are not going back to him, are you? Twenty years! All the sweat and blood and singing his praises and this is what you get after all this time!”

The guy grabs at Jaskier’s arm, which he shakes off in horror.

“You know nothing about me. Or Geralt.”

“That witcher will never see you!” he exclaims. “I was there when your first ballad swept the continent off its feet, Jaskier. From that moment on, I knew you were special. What appreciation has that mutant shown you? Only insults and scorn.”

“Geralt is not like that, he—”

Jaskier freezes to the spot.

He forces his attention back to the boy’s face. His eyes are still startlingly blue, even more so in anger. There’s not a single trace of age at his temples, and yet…

“My first song was twenty-two years ago,” Jaskier states, something akin to fear creeping into his voice. “What did you say your name was again?”

At those words, the man’s face shifts. It’s like watching someone shed a layer of skin, a façade, and another being emerges. A much more powerful one.

“Does it matter?” When he answers, there's magic in the air, sizzling with power. The blue of his eyes shimmers under the surface, ever so slightly. Jaskier’s heart clenches.

Not human.

Definitely not human.

“We never got to know each other, well,” Jaskier stalls. “I think now it’s not too late.”

He has an inkling that getting away will not be an easy feat. He can hope to distract this… this creature long enough for a chance to run. His hand tightens around the strap nervously, and the man’s eyes follow the movement without a beat.

Shit.

Jaskier turns to run, to take the lute case in his hands as a weapon, but it’s too late. The next thing he knows, the case is thrown against the ground and he’s backed against a tree. The other man’s grip around Jaskier’s wrists is like a vice, securing his hands right above him.

Jaskier wants to scream, but no sound escapes his throat. His body shakes all over, out of control.

“The fae never reveal our name easily,” the creature hisses.

Those blue eyes are too sharp and there’s a scent growing overwhelmingly strong. Fae, as it turns out, smell like newly cut grass and wildflowers, like the forest.

If only Jaskier can live long enough to share the trivia.

And then, with both their hands occupied, the fae presses his forehead to Jaskier. He struggles but to no avail.

The touch is cold and something is slipping into Jaskier’s mind like an icy stream in the spring. It trickles probs at every corner of his memories.

“Oh, even now you are loyal to the witcher. You still believe he’ll save you, little songbird.”

Jaskier’s vision turns fuzzy. His soundless whimpering breaks into breathless gasps, like a wounded animal waiting for a mercy kill. At the back of his mind, he’s achingly aware of Geralt’s absence. His witcher in shining armor won’t come this time, not after all the—

“All the pretty little lies. Every single one of them, born out of love, misguided.”

However true that statement is, Jaskier doesn’t want to hear it. His love for Geralt shouldn’t be spoken with malice. He fights against the fae’s iron hold with everything he can muster.

There’s a crack of bones before the pain hits him, exploding from his wrists all the way down his arms. Jaskier sobs, the edges of his vision darkening, the shock threatening to pull him under. He still can’t make a sound.

“What can we do?” The fae’s voice comes from a distant realm. “How can we have your loyalty as the witcher does? Oh, how fierce you are, songbird. To have your voice at our court… Perhaps, more lies will do. Yes, it was your choice, what your heart desired. A gift from us.”

Jaskier can’t process anything he’s hearing. He’s too tired from the searing pain in his wrists.

“Just a few lies. They’ll be easy to roll off the tongue, and yet, such powerful weapons.” The fae retreats. “A gift of lies. Thank you for the inspiration, Jaskier the bard. We hope you enjoy it as much as we will.”

Without the brute force holding up his body, Jaskier sagas against the tree, his legs unable to support his weight. His lungs burn and his mind turns fuzzy, bereft of the fae’s presence.

Jaskier needs to move, needs to scramble away from this place. But before the sweet relief of freedom even hits him, magic seizes him again and, finally, finally, a world-ending scream explodes from his lungs.

The world goes to black soon after.

 ~~

Jaskier wakes to someone shaking his shoulder, someone gentle.

His body pulses like a bruised nerve. The back of his head feels like it’s been trampled by a whole army and his neck creaks at the barest move. Jaskier’s nose is buried in damp grass and he chokes, which jostles his neck even more.

He groans miserably and tries to touch, only to be stopped by the burning in his wrists. He lets out a hiss.

Right, broken bones. Blue eyes that look the same as his. Fae.

“Careful… Fuck, Jaskier, what happened?”

A gravelly voice comes through the fog.

Geralt.

Oh, Jaskier can sob with relief. He arches his back, slowly propping himself up on his elbows. His eyes are so sore from lying on the ground face down, but the sight of his witcher is unmistakable.

Jaskier wants to call out for his witcher, but a sob is the only thing that gets out. He cradles his hands and finds his right wrist is swollen red and sensitive to the touch, but the left looks more or less the same. Only a throbbing pain tugging at his fingertips.

He reaches to the back of his head with his left hand, where the crick is prickling at his nerves, only to find a gash at his nape and hair caked with blood. He doesn’t remember hitting his head while falling. He doesn’t remember falling at all.

So, one wrist sprained, the other broken, plus a gaping hole in his head. Jaskier can cope.

If he doesn’t die from the embarrassment, that is. He whines pathetically, already exhausted.

“I told you not to move.” Geralt catches Jaskier’s tilting body. Amber gold flows with concern. “What happened to you, Jask?”

The question comes out soft, more of a whisper to the witcher himself than demanding answers. Jaskier’s lips wobble at the endearment. He needs to tell Geralt everything. Fuck his injured pride. Geralt came for him. This wonderful, beautiful, sweet man came to him after the disaster that is this morning and he’s still trying to help Jaskier.

All because Geralt is safety. He’s safety and home, and Jaskier needs to tell him—

“None of your business, witcher.”

It takes a moment for Jaskier to register what left his lips, the venom that drips from these words so foreign. He’s never aimed at Geralt before. From the looks of it, Geralt is equally startled if the tiny crease by his lips is any indication.

“You hit your head,” Geralt says patiently, hovering close to Jaskier’s face in an attempt to check the wound on his neck. “It’s bad. Here, let me see—”

“Get your filthy hands away from me!”

The words fly out on their own volition. Jaskier flinches, the same time as Geralt takes back his hand as if burned. He closes his mouth with a pop and the feeling of something severely wrong weighs down on his stomach. That’s not what he meant, not at all. The only thing he wants to do is lean into Geralt’s touch and melt into a puddle. Whyever did his mouth betray his heart? Why did he…

Why did he…

…Lie?

His mind focuses on a sing-songy voice.

A gift from us.

A gift of lies.

It’s like a bucket of ice water thrown over Jaskier’s head. He sobers up immediately. The inspiration they took from him. The fae’s gift.

The fae’s curse.

Geralt’s brows are knitted together, amber eyes imbued with hurt. He is still crouched in front of Jaskier, hands fisted at his side and shoulders taut. He’s got the look now, that lost look that only appears when a mob drives him out of town with pitchforks and stones. Jaskier has seen that look one too many times.

And now he's the one causing it.

“Jaskier?” Geralt asks, shocked, unsure.

Jaskier breathes hard and tastes the bile rising in his throat. Geralt doesn’t deserve this. He doesn’t deserve to have that hopeless look on his face or to be shunned by the world, by anyone, and least of all, by someone he’s let stay beside him for so many years. By the Gods, Jaskier needs to let Geralt know he’s the kindest person on earth and more human than any human. He’s Jaskier’s friend and protector, his dream, his heart—

“You are a mutant, a freak,” Jaskier feels the words slip out, too late to realize the mistake of opening his mouth. “No better than the monsters you slay.” The magic compels his tongue. He bites down on it but it’s only futile. “You feel nothing and give nothing but death to those around you.”

Jaskier recoils, tasting blood. In front of him, Geralt mirrors his movement. The entire time, the wolf medallion rests against his chest plate, Jaskier’s last hope, sitting still and unresponsive.

And Geralt…

He doesn’t defend himself.

Of course not. Geralt never defends himself against the stoning even when he can easily defeat most humans with his bare hands. There’s a faded scar near his hairline, a solid proof of men’s capacity for prejudice and violence.

Now Jaskier has joined their ranks.

Geralt looks like he’s been suck-punched in the gut, his eyes wide and crestfallen. And yet, wide amber eyes gaze upon Jaskier without accusation, only quiet acceptance. Jaskier shudders with disgust and fear, which must be the reason Geralt is backing away further.

“I’ll leave… If you—” he pauses, before standing up. “I see. This is goodbye, Jaskier.”

Don’t go!

“Get away then!”

Jaskier shakes his head, putting all the force he can muster into biting into his lips, scared of what may come out. His wrists burn but he has to force his mouth shut by pressing his palms over it.

Why can’t Geralt see that something’s wrong? Why can’t he see Jaskier?

See me! Jaskier pleads silently through the tears.

Geralt’s face falters as he spares one last glance at Jaskier.

Look what you’ve done to him, the sing-songy voice returns. This is your choice. You chose to lie, little poet. Be careful what you wish for.

Jaskier crumbles like a puppet with his strings cut. He barely contains the choked-out whimpers. The burning in his lungs is nothing compared to the anguish. He could die at this moment and it would be a sweet release. Hurting Geralt like this, it’s worse than a thousand broken bones and a million cuts on his skin. In the darkest corners of his mind, he wants Geralt to walk away from him. If Jaskier has to spew any more venom towards the man he’s loved for more than half of his life, he’d surely want to walk into the ocean and never come out.

He presses his ears to the grass and remembers the cold wind on the mountain. He was a fool to hope Geralt could come to him then. He is a fool now.

The witcher drags his feet away, one step after another, trampling the soft flora under him, and then—

And then, by some miracle, he stops.

Jaskier watches as his witcher turns around and rushes back to his side, his jaw clenched and eyes determined. His heart bursts with hope, but his fists press against his mouth harder. There’s more blood coating his tongue.

“I can’t,” Geralt states as he kneels next to Jaskier’s curled body. The betrayal in his eyes ebbs away and in its place is something…tortured.

Jaskier shakes his head, or is he trembling again? His vision swims with blood loss. He won’t be able to stay awake for long.

“I can’t leave you here, Jaskier,” he muses to himself, frowning deep. “Shit. You are bleeding again.”

Jaskier scoffs into his fist, almost hysterical.

“You are in shock, and you are about to pass out. I don’t know what happened, but your wrists are a mess. Jaskier…” The name comes out like a prayer. “I heard your wishes. Loud and clear, this time. I know you loathe my presence in your life, but… I have to make sure you’ll get better. Please, forgive me.”

Geralt tries to gently pry Jaskeir’s hands away, but he struggles blindly. Through the haze of his mind, Jaskier’s last thought reminds him to keep his mouth closed.

“Forgive me,” Geralt mutters in anguish, “I can’t let you hurt yourself because of me. Forgive me, just one more time.”

His hand makes the familiar sign of Axii, and everything turns…soft.

The pain is gone, the magical hold on his tongue too. Jaskier loses himself in the mellow sensation of giving up control. The ground disappears under his body and his head lolls against Geralt’s chest.

“I was wrong.” Regret rumbles deep in Geralt’s chest. “I was the curse that befell you. After all the hurt you’ve received by my side, Gods, and I still can’t keep myself away from you. I will not make the mistake of forcing myself into your life again, Jask. Allow me a few days to see you safe, and then... Never again.”

The vow is so wrong, but Jaskeir is powerless to protest. He catches a broken whisper before darkness claims him for the second time on the same day.

“I’m sorry, Jaskier. For my heart.”

Jaskier welcomes the oblivion that drags him under, as well as the nightmares that follow.

~~

I'm...sorry. 

One more chapter to go. Hopefully this time I won't have to up the chapter count. Some real communication and comfort are on the way! <3

Tagging: @wanderlust-t @a-kind-of-merry-war @rockysstupidity @flowercrown-bard @alllthequeenshorses @mothmanismyuncle @percy-jackson-is-sexy- @constantlytiredpigeon @behonesthowsmysinging @kitcatkim3 @endless-whump @rey-a-nonbinary-bisexual @llamasdumpsterfire @dapandapod

Please feel free to tell me if you want to be removed or added to the list <3

[ouvertyr]

Prelude

Celestic town. A settlement nestled against Sinnoh’s vast mountain range that separated the region – as well as people – in two. Fauve grew up with her father living on the other side of Mt. Coronet, a miner like so many other men. He worked tirelessly for the sake of his family, even though he couldn’t be them near, and whenever she got to see him; it was only for a short time, until the mines were ready again.  She was the sole daughter of a family that worked, and hoped, for more. On the southern coast, a boy was raised by both mother, father and silver spoon. Noboru Akagi knew from a young age that he was meant for something greater – that in a name, there was power, and that his held much. The opportunities set before him were as rich and vast as the shores of his home metropolis; even beyond, should he be clever enough to see them.

But with opportunities, expectations follow. A weight too heavy for a young boy to bear alone.

They were two people who couldn’t have begun life any more differently, yet they would come together by chance and cause a ripple effect of adoration. But, as they would learn; ripples disappear and fade. Leaving nothing behind but cold, quiet waters.

Their story began under a curtain of rain.

Sinnoh, spring – 19xx

On her 17th birthday, Fauve had been crouched before a shrine carved through the earth. Little more than a grate over a hole, hidden off a lonesome dirt road. The staff of her umbrella cradled against the juncture between her shoulder and neck to keep the downpour at bay; as well as her hands free. They fingered upon a gift her father had sent through the mail on her special day. A chain of gold which daintily fell around her left wrist, created from ‘scrap ore’ (as the letter had said) that he had surely hidden away in his coat when no one had been there to see. Something that certainly wasn’t allowed, and she wished that she could’ve scolded him for it – because no gift was greater than he.  She didn’t wish for him to fare ill because of a silly present. Still, Fauve tapped upon the chain with her fine fingertips – creating a subtle rhythm that she accompanied with a gentle hum. Though not a songstress and hardly one capable of staying on note; Fauve often took to humming when alone. Songs from her childhood, the radio at work or ones that she made up on her own. On that particular afternoon, she hummed to the tune of hymns.

The clang of church bells from a metropolis far, far away.  

“… Oración?”

A song which faded into the sound of the wispy downpour once disturbed. To her right, she caught sight of unstained cap-toe oxfords and fitted pants that disappeared past the brim of her umbrella. They reminded her of the many city folk who fancied themselves a stay in her quiet home. Men who came from wealth and wished for even more and who never much cared to buy a trinket or two.

After a pause, Fauve asked. “How do you know?”

“I’ve traveled to Hearthome a fair amount. The bells are hard to miss, given how they bellow through the whole main town.”

She chose to amend her query. "It’s not the most common thing to know by name.”

“Maybe not.” Out of the corner of her eye, she saw him turn. To where he now stood facing her. “But I have been known to care for unimportant things. Though… Perhaps the miss wouldn’t consider it so?”

Fauve imagined he stared down at her. Through her canopy of deep navy blue. Like Arceus watching her from above, questioning when her song were to begin anew. She felt quite flustered at the thought. “I suppose it would depend… Are you a faithful man?”  

“I would regret to say that, no. I am not. Though I have found myself fearing judgement now and again.”

“… Then I think the knowledge isn’t all that useless.”

“Perhaps not.”

Quiet fell between the two after that, only disturbed by the whisk of rain. Before her, gated by parallel iron, the pitter-patter of droplets hitting silver and gold echoed within the shrines hollow depths. Fauve shifted her feet where she knelt, to test the limits of said gate. Slightly raised, yet level enough to not cause her to topple over onto her bottom.  Falling through them was impossible, yet the thought had crossed her mind once or twice before. To be trapped within its hold forever, in this town hidden away by the mountains.

(How tragic wouldn’t it be?)

The weight of her umbrella shifted. His finger disturbed the curved edge of her dome, forcing it upwards so that she no longer could hide herself beneath it. Fauve found herself to be captivated by his hand – so different from the boys and men of Celestic who labored tirelessly within agriculture and carpentry. When he crouched to meet her where she sat, she got to see his face for the very first time. The sharp lines of his cheek and jawbone. The fact that his hair was wispy blue – almost white – and his eyes, a stark black. Deep enough to get lost within.  When he spoke, his voice sounded warmer than before. Quieter, too. “Say… What is the name of this little songbird?”

Fauve’s hands felt clammy upon her wrist. “Songbird?” She laughed quietly. “Hardly so…”

There was a quirk to his lips. A showing of pearly white teeth. “Well?”

“Fauve,” she said.

“Fauve,” he said, then rose. He extended his hand towards her. “May I walk you home before the sun sets, Fauve?”

Before her mind was fully in it, her heart spoke for her. She laid her palm within his.

“You may.”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

On their walk home, Fauve got to learn that his name was Noboru Akagi while, during their next, she got to know much more. That she’d previously likened him to the business men who festered within Celestic like pests turned out to not be so bad of a guess – for when asked about his profession, Noboru’s eyes lit up.  “My father began laying the foundations for it when he was just shy of his 30s. He’d worked one of the mines along ‘triple two’* during it all, laboring much like your own father to the west. He and his work mates had always had something like it in sight, they just hadn’t gotten the partners to attach themselves to until recently.” Noboru had explained, his hand laid over hers where it rested at the crook of his arm. “We may have investors in Celestic, and so I’m here to see to it.”

“Your father must trust you, sending you off with such a task.”

That proposition caused a moment of silence, Noboru’s demeanor coming to a still. When he returned to her, from wherever it was that he had gone, it was with a smile.  That he carried a dimple upon his left cheek was something that Fauve hadn’t noticed until just then. “He has no real choice but to trust me. A busted knee and back from miners work makes long trips difficult. The rattling of the trains don’t lend themselves well to someone like him.” He patted her knuckles. “Celestic is quite a ways away.”

Fauve averted her gaze at that. “I suppose you are right…”  A bird of her own nest, she was. Never had she traveled beyond her town’s markers and she’d never thought herself to do so either. Noboru was a worldly man in her eyes, and he’d seen more than she though she ever would. What little she knew of the rest of Sinnoh were what glimpses she’d caught on the tele in the evenings – or the words spoken over the radio for the nation to hear. When she looked to where Noboru’s hand claimed hers, she noted that it was a few shades darker, too.

“Celestic must seem awfully dreary compared to your home city. I can’t imagine you find much enjoyment in the simple life.”

“Well,” he began, their pace slowing to that of slugs. “My travels here wasn’t a particularly pleasant one. Nor are the meetings I take in my father’s steed. However… One thing has made it all quite bearable.”  The pad of his thumb gently brushed upon her knuckles, and Fauve felt her heart flutter. “You heal a tired heart, Fauve Novelovna.”

“You flatter,” she denied, leaning against him to hide against his shoulder. “All I have ever done is bring you on walks.”

“And I am ever thankful for it.”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

When Noboru’s stay within Celestic were to come to an end, Fauve never did ask. For to know was worse than not. When their last day did come, however, it came with worse heartache than she’d ever imagined one thing could.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

The day began with the faint sound of the radio broadcast. A promise of good weather suggested a day for laundry, something Fauve knew her mother would find delight in.  Working the family business of watchmaking, most days were uneventful. More often than not the rare customer would come by for repairs rather than purchases – something that Fauve held no qualification for. What she did was to simply take a note with the clientele’s information, their payment depending on what needed to be mended before moving the item into the back workshop so that her uncle could busy himself with at a later date.

Slow, quiet day’s with little excitement. Yet Fauve found something tranquil about the mundane life she led.  With the broadcast turning to that of a fire down south, within a small community of residential housing near Oreburgh city, the shops entry bell rang. Fauve did little other than glance away from the morning paper laid before herself, idly fingering at the coarse pages of stained ink and almost went back to her pastime before something within her clicked.

“… Noboru?”

The distinct shade of baby blue traveled alongside the tall shelves, quickly moving towards her. Before she knew it, he was before her – his usual put together self disheveled and wrong. The arms of his white dress shirt were pushed past his elbows, a few too many buttons undone while his tie slung loosely around his throat. Fauve would’ve found the sight amusing had it not been equally concerning. He looked as though he hadn’t changed out of his wear since the night before.  Carefully, she slid off her high seat and rounded the counter to see to him. Before she could do anything else, however, Noboru forewent all pleasantries and manners he’d so sensibly displayed all throughout their time together and swept her off her feet. His arms settled around her waist and under her bum, hoisting her against himself in a tight embrace. Fauve, helplessly, palmed upon his shoulder and kicked her feet in the air as she wished to scold him for his deeds – but his laughter, rich and deep, left her wordless.

He wetly kissed upon her throat. “Fauve,” he sighed, his voice muffled against her bare skin. “Fauve, I have done it. I’ve sealed the deal.”

“The deal?” She asked, bewildered and flustered all at once. Her vision swam and the desire to have another feel of his lips occupied her mind. “The… You got the partnership?”

“Aye.” Tired arms gave out, and gently; Noboru set her back onto her own two feet. But near him, he kept her, his brow laying to rest against hers. “My contact saw fit to lay claim to my father’s model, thinking it fair he be given a grander deal as composition for having had a spoiled brat to negotiate with rather than the man himself… I could’ve left there with nothing to my name, Fauve.”

Fauve raised her hands to lay them upon his cheeks. The pads of her thumbs, soothing over the height of his cheekbones. She’d once thought herself capable of drowning in the depths of his dark eyes but, when so near… She felt it was a fate worth suffering.

“But you didn’t.” She said.

“… But I didn’t.”

Their lips met in the most innocent of manners possible. Soft, tender – chaste and unreasonably light given the heat of which filled their guts. Fauve wished for more and she could feel, by the hardness pressing against her stomach, that he did too.  But more did not come. He parted from her with a grim look, and had she not already felt weak to her knees, then his next words would’ve been her downfall.

“I leave within the hour.”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Sinnoh, winter – 19xx

“Dearest Fauve,”

“Sunyshore appears more inert and dreary with each passing day. Nothing compares to the life you brought me during my time in humble Celestic. I may not miss its cold morning or its poor weather – but I do miss you. With each beat of my heart I miss you all the more.  Have your tears dried since my last letter? I sincerely hope so, despite me not being there to wipe them off your rosy cheeks. Someone like you should never have to weep or experience sorrow, and I do hope that in your next moment of doubt or worry that you will find solace in Oración once more. Sing for us both, my songbird.”

Noboru had promised to stay in contact the day that he left her. She’d carried that promise as company on her lonesome walk back home, no longer having had an arm to cling to as she treaded upon the familiar dirt roads. Upon arrival, she’d bypassed her mother without a word shared and locked herself within her bedroom to weep into her sheets. Just as she had done the day her father left for Eterna.

“Work has been busy these past few months and many changes are happening quickly. Almost too quickly, if I may be so crass as to confide in you… It’s difficult to work towards the future when its promises are so uncertain. Though I am proud to have brought my father’s work into the world, I fear we won’t be able to live up to the promises we have made. It’s strenuous work, Fauve. Especially for my old man.”

Her routines before she met him returned to what they had been. A mundane existence with little excitement to speak of. She took up cooking, cleaning and took a more active part in the caring of her childhood home to lessen her mother’s workload. She tended to her father when he returned home, the cold far too much to continue miners work.  She would hum for her him every night, like she had when she was a little girl. And when she sang, she imagined that Noboru could hear her too.

There, across the region that had separated one heart in two.

“I worry that his health is declining, and rapidly. He has reached the age where his own father, my grandfather, lost is life due to ailments. One’s that runs like a vice within the men of my family. The worst that could happen, now, would be for his body to give out just as his dreams are coming true. What sort of son would I be if I let that happen? How could he put his faith in me and I not return it tenfold?  Nothing in this world feels definite, Fauve. Not my father, nor his work. Nor us.

Fauve. I have one question for you that could bring me greater peace than any other during these tumultuous times.”

Her father was there when Noboru’s final letter arrived and gave his blessings, despite never having met the man.

“Come to Sunyshore and let me take your hand in marriage.”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

She said yes, of course. There truly wasn’t more to it than that. With the blessings of her family and his, a date was set and she traveled by train towards the south. Soon enough, Fauve was in the arms of Noboru once more.  As she was always meant to be. A year after Fauve settled down with her new husband, Noboru’s father passed. It marked not only a shift of power within The Akagi Foundation, but also an end to the fairytale life she’d thought herself to have gotten. Slowly, but surely, their love seemingly dwindled into that of nothingness…

Still, Oración could be heard in the halls of their quiet home. Fauve hummed it at any given moment, whenever she could. She hummed it to their son after she gave birth that very same winter.

They named him Cyrus Toumaich Akagi, and he looked just like his father.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

*Triple two – Route 222

[lubdubsworld]

Change of Heart

Pairing : Taehyung x OC

[ Summary :

Times are changing.

After years of being oppressed, werewolves are taking a stand against humans , demanding equal rights and fair treatment. Heading the movement is Kim Taehyung, the breathtaking heir to the Kim fortune and one of the few remaining Alpha werewolves in the country. His disdain for the human race is well known and well warranted. They killed his family after all…..

He wants to change the world , to put humans in their place but when his five year old daughter takes a shine to their very human neighbor , maybe he has to start with a change of heart , first.  ]

Pairing : Taehyung x OC

Genre : Romance, Explicit Content.

Warnings : None. ( Some mild violence but mostly off screen )

Chapter 1 / Chapter 2 / Chapter 3

Chapter 4

The Preserve had originally been an isolated island about 50 miles off the coast of the mainland.  Over the decades, the land had been expanded with man made floats serving to support the extra buildings and complexes that cropped up to cater to the small human population that stuck around to help out. 

The wolves still kept to the interiors, most of them having built huge cottage-villas which could house the entire pack, territories marked out clearly to avoid disputes. A few of the very traditional ones lived on the huge mountains that lined the northern end, opting to stay in their wolf-forms most of the time. 

The island itself was beautiful, rich vegetation , a thriving fauna and a landscape that was lined with beautifully stark cliffs up high and private little coves and beaches scattered below. 

Taehyung and his daughter lived on a beautiful beach side villa, which had its own vegetable garden , a staff of over 8 to take care of everything, a private jetty for trips to the mainland and a helipad/ airstrip. 

True to his word, Taehyung did not stay around most days. He was busy with his campaign and I spent the first week recovering. The doctor visited everyday and by the end of the week, most of the internal injuries were healing well, the pain well managed with meds.

Luna had moved into my room, pretty much and I spent the days with her curled into my side, reading from her favorite books, stopping when she encountered a particularly difficult word, ebony eyes turning to mine for help. We read countless books, and she introduced me to all her best friends : Mr. Ted the bear, Kihyun the bunny and Momo the panda. The stuffed animals had a small baby carrier of their own and she liked carting them all around the house. 

“She was really pretty. Mama....” Luna whispered one night, as we lay curled on the window seat in my room, a fur throw covering us up as we stared out into the rocky beach far below. 

I felt my heart lurch in shared grief. 

“Was she? What else do you remember about her....?” I asked softly.

“Her scent. “ Luna said quickly. “ She smelled just like you. Like home and fresh cookies with sugar sprinkles. And rainy puddles you can jump in.” 

I bit my lips, mindful that Luna was just listing her favorite things. I didn’t know much about how weres scented other weres or humans. But i supposed it made sense that her mother’s scent should remind her of things that offered her comfort and joy. 

But her next words threw me for a loop. 

“Daddy didn’t like her much....” She said suddenly and I felt my throat close up . 

“Oh-Oh?” I was genuinely shocked. Taehyung had looked devastated when he had told me about his wife’s passing.... 

Luna shook her head. 

“My friend from school, Mina? Her mommy’s still alive and her daddy likes her. They kiss and stay in the same room. Mommy and Daddy never kissed. Mommy lived on the east wing.... That’s on the other side. Near the rose gardens.”

I bit my lips, feeling incredibly guilty for some reason. This information felt somehow private and not for stranger’s ears. I didn’t want Luna to get into trouble for saying this to me . 

“I miss her sometimes. I’m glad you’re here.” She sniffled and i felt my heart crack in two. The girl was replacing her mom with me, I thought miserably. I couldn’t in good conscience let this happen. 

But as the days stretched into weeks, with Taehyung out and busy most of the time, i couldn’t bring myself to leave. Luna did appear to be calmer, more grounded and happier with me around. She liked staying close to me, at touching distance and she often buried her nose into my neck, sniffing till I had to gently pry her off. 

Although, absent physically, Taehyung called every day. He facetimed his daughter twice at least and I got a call every night at exactly nine. It was usually curt and formal but he did tell me what he was upto.

“The elections are coming up soon.... I need to work a bit more on the immediate reforms we’re planning to launch...I won’t be available this week, Luna’s keeping well?” 

“Yes, she is. We made a modern recreation of red riding hood and the wolf today with play dough.” 

Silence.

“Interesting choice of fairy tale, Mi Rae ssi...” He drawled. 

I flushed at how my name sounded in that voice.

“It’s a bit different plot wise. In this case, the granny is just a meanie who likes to order Red about and the wolf is the one who rescues her.” I grinned.

He chuckled amicably.

“Bit of a stretch , that. But I’m glad you’re happy. I didn’t want to pressure you too much and i know its asking way too much of you . But Ms. Lee says that Luna is happier than she’s ever been and I do believe you’re the one I have to thank for that. “

I bit my lips. I wanted to tell him that Luna was getting way too attached. That I was afraid of what would happen when it was time for me to leave, but already i could hear voices in the background, people calling for his attention and I remembered that he was doing something important.

 He was trying to build a better world for his little girl. 

In the long run, all of this would be for Luna’s benefit only. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~

it had been nearly a month since I’d last seen Taehyung . A whole three months since I’d moved into his villa. My paycheck as a nanny was three times what I was paid as a lab tech. But I hadn’t stopped working at the research facility either. I spent the days there, when Luna was busy with her school work . The vaccine had been successful but somehow, my father’s company had pulled some sort of nonsense with the patenting and not everyone had got the shorts. 

I stared out into the murky blue waters as they crashed into the jagged black rocks that lined the private beach. The huge bay windows in the living space offered an unfettered view of the rocky beach. 

Next to me, Luna was pretty much bouncing around, trying to find all her beach day toys. I watched her fondly, feeling something squeeze my heart when I thought about not seeing her again. The elections were done, the results were due any day now and Taehyung had already told me that he was looking to end this arrangement soon. 

Luna had a mind like no other. A vibrantly curious child with the most incredible questions, it was clear that she adored her father more than anything else in the world. In the evenings, she liked to play near the small water inlet that fed into the Ocean. The water was shallow, barely an inch or so deep, the terrain covered in small smooth pebbles in every shade of brown of grey.  

Luna and I  spent most of the weekends exploring the small beach around the villa, foraging around in the coves while her caregiver watched me covertly from a distance. She clearly didn’t trust me much, but I tried not to let it get to me.

I wasn’t here to stay. Taehyung had sent me a mail the previous week, letting me know that I was no longer had to babysit, because he was planning to move to Seoul himself. He would be renting out a condominium there and hiring a full time nanny. 

And that was fine. it wasn’t like i hadn’t seen that coming. I had a life of my own and i had to get back to it. My cottage near the research facility was fixed now and I was looking forward to getting back to my life, no matter how much it hurt to leave Luna behind. 

 I was a little upset that he had sent an impersonal mail to me instead of talking to me in person. Or maybe spoken about it over the phone at least. But I knew that he was just trying to make it easier for me to cut all ties. 

Okay, fine, maybe I was a little bit bitter that Taehyung hadn’t even offered to hire me to take care of Luna .  I wasn’t qualified , yes, but so far Luna had been a dream to stay with. She was so inquisitive and bright, so full of sunshine and happiness. 

After three months of her unconditional love for me,  the idea of not coming home to her vibrant laugh and endless giggles, it just felt so painful. 

“Rae Rae, let’s gooooo....” Her voice broke me out of my thoughts . Despite endless protests from Ms. Lee, Luna insisted on calling me Rae Rae and I found it adorable. 

I jumped a little, hastily moving to grab the sunscreen, the hat and gloves. While Luna did heal quickly courtesy her wolf-y genes, she was also incredibly prone to sunburn. The first few times, she had promptly shifted into her wolf form when i tried to put it on her, snipping my fingers angrily. The chemical was supposed to be unscented but her sensitive nose had clearly picked it up anyway. 

It took a lot of bribing with delicious meat patties and steak bites, for the girl to shift back and let me apply it on her.

But now she was comfortable with letting me apply it on her when we went to the beach. 

She picked up her backpack, a baby blue fur lined affair with twin bunny ears near the handle , and the small tote bag full of her collection of seashells and skipped out of the room happily. I finished packing the rest of her beach stuff : towels, napkins, hair pins and a change of clothes just in case. 

We were just climbing down the huge stairwell, when Taehyung’s voice rang through the foyer, startling me badly. i hadn’t seen him in a long time and against my better judgement I almost half ran back to put some make up on at least. I probably looked like an ogre with smeared sunscreen and my hair uncombed and in a bun. 

“Lu - Lu? Baby???” He called out, his deep voice pretty much reverberating off the walls .

“DAAAADAAAAAA” 

I watched her almost tumble headlong the stairs in her rush to get into her father’s arms and I hung back, letting them have their reunion. 

I waited till Taehyung called out for me, before moving to greet him as well. 

The first thing that stuck me was how incredibly handsome he looked, hair now fully black, swept straight back from his forehead. He was dressed in skinny jeans and a loose black shirt, buttons undone to show the lines of his pecs and a pair of dangly earrings caught the light as he turned to stare at me. 

“Mi Rae ssi....i see you’re all ready for Beach day?” He grinned softly.

There was something radiant about him, a definite lack of anxiety. He looked relaxed almost.

“You won?” i blurted out. “ You won didn’t you?”

Taehyung’s eyes glinted .

“Its not officially announced yet, but yes, the Commission called me today . They think I’ve won by a landslide.

Before I could rethink my impulse, I flung myself into his arms, genuinely thrilled beyond belief.

“RThat’s so incredible, Taehyung ssi...i’m so happy for you and-”

“Tae? Should I get the other suitcase?” 

The female voice made me jolt, and I pulled away, arm still arapped around his neck, intensely aware of his hands on my waist.

Three feet away from us , stood an incredibly beautiful young woman. She was almost as tall as Tae, probably the same age as him and her eyes flashed red when she looked at me. 

I flinched, stepping back like i’d been scalded.

“Just leave it sweetheart, one of my men will get it. Come meet my little girl.” Taehyung said casually, shooting me one brief intense look of.....anger? annoyance? I couldn’t figure it out.

 Sweetheart? did he just call her-

Luna had shuffled to hide behind my legs now, her fingers gripping my waist as she refused to greet the newcomer.

“Luna, this is Ms Jihyun. She’s a very good friend of mine.”

Jihyun dropped to her knees, eyes flashing red again as she smiled a tight lipped smile.

“Hello, Luna. How are you doing?” She said seriously. Luna’s grip on me tightened.

“She’s a little shy.” I choked out, trying to tamp down the rising sense of heartbreak. No. i had actively fought against feeling this way. Every night here, I had told myself that I would not think about Kim Taehyung. Admiring him for what he did , for how hard he worked for his kind....that was one thing ....but this. This was madness. 

Taehyung reached out around me to lift Luna up into her arms. 

“How about we go to the beach with Jihyun and Ms Lee today?” He said casually, holding his hand out to me.

I almost did something stupid, like press my hand into his before realizing that he was asking for the bag i had over my shoulders. Wordlessly, I handed it over. 

“I want to go with Rae Rae....” Luna said sharply, lips jutting out in a petulant little pout.  

“Well, Appa and Ms. Rae need to talk about something and once we’re done, I’ll join you there okay?” He ruffled her hair softly and then gently placed her back down. 

Luna gave me an imploring look.

“Are you leaving me?” Her lips wobbled.

I shook my head instinctively.

“Of course not baby, I’ll be right there. Just a few minutes, okay? Don't forget your sunscreen.” I smiled and Luna pouted again but moved to Ms. Lee’s side hesitantly. 

Taehyung waited till the three of them began leaving before turning to me. 

“Thank you.” He said quietly , gaze moving to me with the same intensity, and this time I knew what he was doing. He was trying to gauge what I was thinking and I remembered, weakly that Alpha wolves could sometimes sense moods, changes in a person’s body temperatures and things like that. It wasn’t like mind reading or anything but a perceptive enough werewolf could definitely guess what kind of mood someone was in.

I fought to keep my face neutral. There wasn’t much I could do about how clammy and cold my entire body had gone after meeting Jihyun. It wouldn’t take a rocket scientist to guess why I didn’t l;ike Jihyun there.

“It’s not you.” He said gently.

I swallowed.

“Sorry?”

“You’re beautiful. If we were.... the same kind of people.....I wouldn’t be saying this. But because of who we are.... I’m going to say it. It’s not a good idea.” He whispered.

I flushed, feeling like my entire body had been dipped in ice cold water.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” I said evenly.

He hummed.

“If you leave today, there’s a job waiting for you in the Research Center. It’s a level up from what you’re doing right now. I’ve asked them to put up extra security around your cabin and I’ve talked with the wolves here. No one will come anywhere near you. “ 

I nodded bleakly.

“Thank you.” I said quietly. 

“You’re going to forget me and Luna in a few weeks. And I would rather that things end now, before Luna becomes more attached.”

I nodded.

“Can i talk to her before I leave?” I asked softly.

He hesitated. 

“I don’t.... I mean, I would rather not have Jihyun be present for that. She’s.... well she’s someone I’m getting to know and she may feel -”

I wanted to kick myself in the face for ever having agreed to this whole thing.

“I understand. I’ll be back tomorrow morning to get the rest of my stuff and to say goodbye to Luna.” I said shortly. 

Before he could reply, I brushed past him and ran up to my room. I had to get out of here as soon as I could.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Luna cried inconsolably and I was eternally grateful that no one else was there when I carefully unpacked the huge carton of snacks and toys , I’d packed for her. Taehyung had made things a little easier, by telling Luna that it wasn’t me who was leaving but it would be them. They were going to a new place so they would be leaving me behind because I had stuff to do here. 

“I’m not going to be gone completely. I’m going to come visit you as often as I can alright and look....” I pulled out the small phone I’d brought her.

She stopped sniffling and held her hand out. I placed the flip phone in her hands.

“Theres just two numbers there. See the picture of the wolf? Thats daddy..... And see the one with the flower.....that’s me. If you want to talk to either of us, all you need to do is press this button.”

Luna hesitated.

“Daddy said, I can’t have any phones.” She said hesitantly. What a wonderful child, i thought fondly.

“Yes, but this isn’t the kind of phone that could hurt your eyes. It’s just a talking phone. Besides, your daddy already knows and he’s okay with it.” I smiled. 

She nodded, turning the little device over and over in her hands.

“Daddy say’s we’re going to the city. Why don’t you want to come?” She said angrily and i sighed.

“Its not that I don’t want to come, baby. It’s just that my home is here. I help take care of the little pups here remember? Some of them get sick and I help make them better....” I smiled, ruffling her hair. 

She nodded.

“Good girl...Now how about we go see the sandcastle you built yesterday...? See if it’s still there?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Life went on and I found myself busy enough to not dwell on Taehyung too much. The vaccines were rolling out much faster now and most of the cases were milder . i spent the days in the research center and went home to my cozy cabin. Taehyung had been true to his word an an electric fence ran around the perimeter , twelve feet tall . A security guard stayed near the gate at all times, a beta werewolf named Minjun. 

Two weeks after Taehyung had moved out of the island, a distraction arrived in the form of one Jeon Jungkook . He was a year younger than me and finishing his internship before becoming a radiologist. He was smart , handsome and an alpha wolf with a deceptively cute bunny like smile.

Jungkook liked following me around when we had free time and I found his incessant noona , noona...endearing. But I was also not an idiot. 

Jungkook was looking for a fuck buddy and I was convenient. The only female in the research center. Werewolves didn’t do one night stands with each other, because being intimate always left a scent and it would make things messy. So weres  generally went to humans for no strings attached sex. 

It wasn’t that I minded , but a part of me was terrified i would do something stupid. Like call him Taehyung in the middle of us fucking. 

But of course, stupid decisions were my forte. 

So I did end up sleeping with him. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Well, you look miserable.” Jimin commented mildly, as I stumbled forward to the counter. I hadn’t slept much the previous night and had nearly missed the ferry to the mainland in the morning.

“I’m fine oppa. Just frazzled. Give me something strong but sweet...” I begged, riffling through my bag for my wallet. Outside, the rain poured in torrents. I was still dripping water from my hair and my jacket, although I’d been out of the rain for a whole five minutes. 

“Taehyung’s been asking about you....Why don’t you pick his calls?” Jimin said casually and I flinched. 

“I did pick his calls. a couple of times....” I muttered . 

That had been a whole experience. Taehyung had called me two weeks back, frothing at the mouth about something. 

Apparently, Ji Hyun the lovely girlfriend that Kim Taehyung like flaunting all over town, was also the older sister on one Jeon Jungkook. And because we had had sex the previous night, Jungkook had smelled like me when he visited Taehyung and Ji hyun. Even Luna had picked up on the scent.

How on earth was i supposed to know? 

Taehyung had been so furious that I’d hung up the phone midway through. 

“And, what happened?”

I shrugged.

“And then I got busy. Why? I’ve been talking to Luna... I even met her a couple of times. It’s not like I have any other reason to talk to him.... “ I protested.

Jimin hummed.

“He’s still seeing that model. Jeon Ji hyun? I heard her brother works in the Research center?” Jimin raised an eyebrow, sliding my drink across the counter. I stepped out of the line but stayed near the counter, staring at him. Damn it. Had Taehyung actually told Jimin about it? 

“Jungkook? Yeah. He’s a doctor... He’s doing his MD , radiology and he’s here for exposure , apparently...”

“Alpha?” Jimin continued flitting about, making orders but his tone held a note of sympathy. 

I shrugged.

“Yeah, he is. But we don’t talk much. We went out one night but then he’s been aloof ever since.” I shrugged again hoping that Jimin was buying my nonchalant act. i still didn’t know how much he knew. 

Jungkook was a nice guy and I was a little peeved that he didn’t seem to want anything more than a friends with benefits thing. But that had less to do with him and more to do with the fact that men, in general, never seemed to consider me as a potential girlfriend. 

But then, the poor guy was in probably the most crucial part of his education. Relationships were probably the farthest thing from his mind. 

Jimin stopped when the last customer in the line left. He stared at me. 

“Taehyung told me Luna called you one morning and Jungkook picked the phone.” 

I froze.

“What?!” I hissed, completely thrown. This, I hadn’t known. 

“You went out? With Jungkook?  And he stayed over , I’m guessing....I’m going to go out on a limb and say that you guys did not play Jenga all night?” He glared at me. I flushed.

“Fine. We slept together. We are sleeping together....its just consensual sex between two willing parties,  . It’s no big deal.” I said flippantly.

“You don’t think that’s why Taehyung has been calling you? That’s his potential brother in law right there. It’s too messy. I think you should stop. ” He frowned. 

I rolled my eyes.

“Listen it has nothing to do with me. I’m not going to marry Jungkook okay? I’m not going to be calling Taehyung my brother in law either. Its not going to happen. i just had this...stupid king of crush on him and he knew about it. He turned me down too, did he tell you that. He told me him and I were too different.... meaning I wasn’t a were so he wouldn’t consider being with someone like me. ”

Jimin groaned. 

“you know why he feels that way. Don’t make this about you. It’s not personal.”

“Then why is it spilling into my personal life? I have no obligation to him. I can sleep with who I want.....”

Jimin rolled his eyes.

“Taehyung’s a were. He’s not going to see it that way.” 

“Well, I don’t give a damn how he sees it, I’m having sex with a handsome young man who is attracted to me. That’s a good time, right there and I’m not going to stop having a good time just because it offends Taehyung’s delicate sensibilities.” I snapped. 

Jimin shrugged.

“Just don’t say I didn’t warn you.” 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When I went back to my cabin that evening, I found Minjun missing from his usual place near the gate. The gate was still locked so I didn’t think too much about it, merely slotting the rusty old key into the huge lock and prying it open. 

I made my way to the door, opening it carefully. 

i nearly jumped out of my skin when I saw who was there. 

“what the- Seo Joon?” I said in disbelief, stumbling back when the tall alpha stumbled to his feet from where he was lounging on the couch. 

“Well, look who’s here....if it isn’t the slutty little bitch who wants to sleep her way through every were on the island....First Taehyung and now Jungkook.....you sure know who to pick, huh.....? All powerful, influential wolves..... “ He slurred.

I stared at him. This wasn’t good. I turned on my heel, ready to run back out but he was faster than me. I groaned when he slammed into my back pinning me to the door with so much force that the wood splintered,. 

While my bruised ribs had healed, they still hurt a bit. And the force of his actions left my mind reeling from the pain. 

“Get off me!! “ I screamed, “ MINJUN!!!!! MINJUN HELP!!!” 

“SHUT THE FUCK UP YOU WHORING BITCH!!!”

He slapped me right across the face, the strength of it sending me crashing into the side table. I whimpered as I tried to get on my feet, fingers fumbling for my phone .

“it was you wasn’t it? I was supposed to be the deputy minister.... Taehyung’s supposed to be my fucking friend. instead i got fired like some lowly runt ...... It was you wasn’t it? you convinced him that humans are our fucking friends....” 

I shook my head, frantic.

“No...i swear I’ve not spoken to Taehyung...i didn’t say anything... Seo Joon please don’t...” I screamed when he reached down and grabbed my hair, yanking me to my feet till my scalp felt like it was on fire.

“Maybe I should fuck you too....since that's the thing people seem to be doing these days....Its because of your father isn’t it? That bastard has been all over the news,  talking these past few weeks about how his precious daughter is doing a lot of work for the welfare of wolves....Maybe I should fuck his daughter too....  ” He began, reaching for my blouse. 

I barely registered the nonsense about my father before a loud sound broke through the din. 

The door swung open and the sound of gunfire made me scream.

 I stared at the door only to see the security guard staring at us with wide eyes. 

Minjun , panicked and completely overwhelmed , had blindly opened fire on both of us. 

I felt the touch of the bullet to my shoulder, before the blinding explosion of pain.

 But he seemed to have hit Seo Joon as well, enough times for the were to let go of me and I crashed to floor, clutching my shoulder in agony. 

The sound of gunfire had attracted more people and through the throng I heard Jungkook’s voice.

“Noona.... Mirae noona is that you----???”

“Kookie!!” I croaked out desperately. Jungkook’s eyes went wide when he saw, me, pushing his way past the other wolves before letting out a snarl. The sound seemed to make the others cower and I remembered that he was an alpha too. 

I gripped his arms when he reached me. 

“Don’t tell Taehyung...” I gasped out, still clutching  my shoulder. 

“God, what the fuck.... We need to get you out of here...” He was already dialing for the ambulance. I waited for him to finish, gasping from the pain. Fuck, it hurt like hell. 

“We’re going to get you to the research center first.” Jungkook said frantically.  

I nodded, stumbling to my feet when he tried to lift me up. 

“It’s okay...just...get me something to …” But he was already peeling off his shirt, wadding up to press against the bleeding bullet hole .

“Hyung is going to kill Seo Joon.” He said grimly. 

For once, I didn’t particularly care. 

My mind raced because I hadn’t thought about my father in years. 

What did that tyrant want with me now??

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Author’s Note : Me trying to finish all my fics and not lose my mind in the process :’( 

[verdant-green-games]

The Bright Brigade

    The city block lay in ruins, and to Jen, it was a perfect day. As the smoke faded away from the wreckage, she stood, a lone figure standing atop a mountain of mechanical mess, a monument to the metal martyrs who had fruitlessly thrown their automated bodies onto the sword of this great hero. Bright Red! She thought to herself, imagining the praise and cheer she’d receive for this victory, you’ve done it again! Here’s another key to the city, and even more fame and adoration!

    “Don’t mind if I do,” she dreamily mumbled to herself.

    “Do what?” a golden voice called from behind her.

    She sighed and turned to face the voice, her crimson cape billowing in the wind. Standing below the mountain (well, more of a pile) were three other battered technicolored champions, Brights Gold, Blue and Green. Her partners. Her Bright Brigade. She’d never really wanted sidekicks, but her sponsors at Blitz Cola insisted it tested better with the under-eighteens, and the Bright Brigade was founded. Still, she’d made the best of the situation, and they made for good distractions anyhow.

    Bright Gold panted, his canary armor stained with blood and oil, his golden spear battered and worn. Whose blood was that? “Jen, were you daydreaming again?” He looked exhausted, which to be fair, he probably was. Again, whose blood was that?

    “That’s Bright Red to you while we’re in the field, Brian,” she retorted, “and no, I was completely focused on the situation.”     “Sure.”

    “Hey, Captain,” piped up Blue, clutching his dented shield to his chest, “did we win?” Garbed in navy, Bright Blue (she forgot his name; James?) was their youngest member, and the most eager to assist.

    She laughed a hearty chuckle. “Of course, Blue! When the Bright Brigade is together, evildoers don’t stand a chance!”

    “Except for when they-” muttered Bright Green as she fiddled with her longbow before immediately getting elbowed by Gold.

    “Excellent!” piped up Gold, using his spear to prop himself up. “That’s great! Good for us! Can we go home now?”

    Jen nodded in the affirmative and the team began trekking back to their corporate-mandated hovercraft. Bright Blue jogged up behind Jen, attempting to keep up. “Miss Red, I have a question.”

    “What is it… Blue?” Crap, what was his name? Dave?

    Blue smiled, an endearing grin. “Do you think I have what it takes to stick with the Brigade? I want to see this through to the end!”

Jen laughed and patted the kid on the back. “Of course, and you’d better be prepared to stick with us for a while -- after all, the Bright Brigade will never die!”

###

    The Bright Brigade was dead. Had been for years. This here? This was just the wake.

    At least, that’s what Jen was telling herself. She’d been sitting in this wobbly metal folding chair in an ill-forgotten corner of the convention center for what felt like ages. Above her hung a cheaply-printed banner: Meet the Light Brigade! Sponsored by Blitz Cola®.  If she ever figured out who had misspelled the name of their team on that banner she’d run them through with her Sword Scarlet. Well, she would, if she hadn’t pawned that thing ten years prior.

    Next to her, sitting as far away as possible without sitting completely at another booth, was Evelyn, the artist formerly known as Bright Green. The two of them sat in complete silence for what seemed like days. Finally, Jen spoke.

    “So, Evelyn, how’s your wife?” Jen was trying to be polite, mostly out of sheer boredom.

    Evelyn took a sip from her disposable water bottle and replied, not looking at her. “Dunno. Still divorced, I guess.”

    “Oh, Evelyn, I’m so sorry.” She wasn’t. Evelyn was a jerk and she deserved it.

    “Don’t be. We’re happier this way.” Evelyn didn’t look particularly happy, but that was a-okay to Jen.

    “How are the kids taking it?” Did Evelyn have kids? Jen couldn’t remember.

    Evelyn snorted. “Jason and Steph moved out two years ago to go to college. They don’t care.”

    Jen doubted that, but decided not to press the issue. She looked around the hall, seeing the few passersby wandering around their area. There was a slight commotion coming towards them, and when Jen saw what was causing it she gasped. “Wait… is that?”

    Evelyn laughed derisively. “That moron! What does he think he’s doing?”

    Confidently striding towards the two of them, dressed in his full, now ill-fitting uniform and clutching his spear like a baton, was Brian: the former Bright Gold. His thinning hair was styled with enough hair gel to permanently ruin the Amazon’s ecosystem, his gut was barely contained by the buttons of his jacket, and his face was tight with Botox. Despite these issues, various fans were still vying for a photo of him. Smiling a movie-star grin, Brian waved to the crowd and took a seat between the two of them.

    “Jen! Evelyn! It’s so good to see you two!” he laughed, clearly hamming it up for the cameras.

    “Nice to see you too, Brian,” Jen lied.

    “How’re the kids, Evelyn?” Brian smiled widely for the cameras and patted Evelyn on the shoulder.

    Evelyn looked at Brian coldly before methodically removing Brian’s hand from his shoulder. “Fine.”

    An awkward pause fell over Brian, his smile cracking for a split second, but in a moment it was over and he had recovered. “Jen! How’s life?”

    “Oh, it’s fine,” said Jen. “Y’know, just the feeling of peaking in my twenties and having nowhere to go from here. The usual.” She decided to change the subject. “How’s your hairline doing, Brian?”

    “O-kay, I think that’s enough camera time for now,” Brian laughed awkwardly, shooing away the few fans still gathered around the table. “We’ll do autographs later. Give us some time to catch up!”

    “Catch up about what?” Evelyn looked steamed. “There’s nothing to say. We’re not friends. We haven’t even seen each other in what, ten years?”

    “Eleven,” Brian and Jen said simultaneously.

    “We broke up for a reason. Let’s keep it that way,” Evelyn said in a low voice.

    “You’re right. We just need to get through a panel, and then autographs, and then we can collect our paychecks and never have to see each other again,” stated Jen forcefully. “Let’s do this.”

###

    The three members of the Bright Brigade, once saviors of the city, champions of light, were now seated on rickety bar-stools in front of a few standing microphones. The stage was empty besides a moderator sitting on a similarly-shakey stool. The audience pit, conversely, was not empty; about half of the room’s chairs were filled with fans, cheering and whooping upon seeing their former heroes.

    The moderator stood up and hushed the crowd. “Ladies, gentlemen, and anybody else, welcome to HeroCon!”

    The crowd cheered.

    “We know you’re all excited for the Q&A with the Bright Brigade, but first, let’s give a warm welcome to our panelists!” The moderator began pointing to each of them in turn. “First up, the crimson hero and master of the Sword Scarlet, Jennifer Harris, BRIGHT RED!”

    Jen waved awkwardly at the screaming fans. Years prior, she would have loved this. Now, she just wanted it to be over.

“Next up, the canary conqueror, he who mastered the Spear Gilded, Brian Mitchell, BRIGHT GOLD!”

Brian stood up and bowed melodramatically to the audience, a massive grin on his lips. The crowd went wild. Jen and Evelyn rolled their eyes.

“And last but not least, the archer in emerald, the wielder of the Bow Verdant, Evelyn Ramirez, BRIGHT GREEN!”

The crowd cheered, quieter than they had for Red and Gold. Evelyn barely reacted, sipping from her water bottle.

“We’ll now open up the floor for questions. Yes! You in the cosplay.”

A microphone was handed to a man in the audience wearing a cardboard recreation of the Bright Red costume, tall boots and all. Jen sighed. It was going to be one of those days.

“Question for the group,” he said, clearly nervous, “what prompted you to retire and reveal your identities to the public?”

The three looked at each other. The reason why their identities were revealed to the public wasn’t their own decision; it was Blitz Cola’s. After a particularly rough battle years prior, Blitz decided they didn’t want to be responsible for a superhero team anymore. The team was disbanded, and the remaining members unmasked.

Evelyn was the first to answer. “Lawsuit.”

Brian took his own mic. “What Evelyn means is, we decided we could do more good from the civilian level than we could operating as the Bright Brigade.”

    The man looked confused. “But didn’t Jen fight as Bright Red for some time afterwards-”

    The moderator interrupted. “Sorry, one question per guest. Next question!”

    The audience was scoured again, and a small child, no older than maybe five, was chosen and handed a mic.

    “That is probably the youngest fan we’ve got,” muttered Brian to the others. “Let’s not blow this one.”

    The kid clutched the microphone too close to his germy lips and breathed heavily into it. “Bright Red, I have a question.”

    Jen smiled. “What is it, champ?”

    The child’s mother prodded him onward, and he continued, his chubby hands too small to properly hold the microphone. “Were you scared when you fought Garganit?”

    She hadn’t thought about Garganit in years. That alien menace might have wanted to take over the world, but he’d been a poor excuse for a tyrant. Jen laughed. “Garganit the Conqueror? No, of course not. Why would I have been scared to fight that chump?”

    A hush fell over the crowd. That was odd. She had expected cheers and whoops. She felt a tug at her elbow; it was Evelyn. “Hey, maybe you should stop talking about Garganit,” she whispered.

    “Why? Did I forget something about Garganit?”

    “He’s the guy who killed Shane, Jen.” Brian looked pained.

    “Who’s Shane?”

    The crowd’s silence evaporated into boos; Jen had forgotten that her mic was still on. The kid burst into tears. Jen looked around, confused and desperate. “Bright Blue, Jen. You never bothered to learn his name?!” Evelyn hissed.

    “Oh, crap.” Jen started to apologize, but it was too late; the mob of public opinion had already turned against her. The moderator stood up and frantically tried to calm the crowd.

    Evelyn looked furious. “I can’t believe this, Jen. Actually, yes I can. You never gave a crap about any of us!”

    “That’s not true-” Jen stammered, but was interrupted by Brian.

    “No, Evelyn’s right. We were just a backdrop for your antics. You’re the one that wanted to play the hero. We just wanted to help people.”

    “I-” Jen’s apology was interrupted by the moderator, who beckoned the three to remain quiet. The crowd had finally been hushed to a dull murmur. “We’ll discuss this later,” Jen said, and they turned back to the crowd.

    “Alright, next question!” called out the moderator to the audience. A few dozen hands were raised. An usher handed a megaphone to one, a nerdy-looking woman with thick tortoiseshell glasses, which she readjusted as she stood. 

“My question goes out to all of you,” the woman asked. “What are your thoughts on the upcoming reboot of the Bright Brigade?”

    Now it was the panel’s turn to fall silent. Jen turned to the others. Did you know about this? She mouthed. They shook their heads. Jen faced the nerd again. “This is the first I’m hearing about a Bright Brigade reboot.”

    “Blitz Cola announced they were sponsoring a new team on their socials about thirty minutes ago.” The nerd looked smug.

    “She’s right,” said the moderator, checking her phone. “it just got announced. There’s an all-new lineup of Brights -- Brights White, Silver, Orange, and Black!!”

    The crowd erupted into cheers as a look of horror settled onto Jen’s face, any slim hopes of a return to fame dashed. Brian looked crestfallen as well; Evelyn, to her credit, merely took another sip from her water bottle. They’d been forgotten yet again.

###

    The three of them sat in bitter silence at their booth. A sizable line of fans trailed back some ways, each clutching some piece of memorabilia: a glossy photo, a prop, an action figure. They were here for one thing, and one thing only.

    Autographs.

    With the tick of a clock behind them, the three uncapped their Sharpies and began making short messages out to the masses. Jen noted that her line was much shorter than the others’, probably because of her slip-up at the Q&A. Amid the cries of “I’m such a fan!” and the jeers of “you seriously didn’t remember Bright Blue?” Jen attempted to make amends with her former associates.

    “Hey, guys, I’m really sorry about everything,” she began, but Evelyn hushed her with a wave of his free hand.

    “That’s enough, Jen.” Evelyn sipped from her bottle again. Jen sincerely hoped that that was water in there, but knowing Evelyn it could very well be vodka. Or vinegar, actually, to help top off that sour disposition of hers. “Let’s just get this over with.”

    “Yeah,” said Brian, no longer smiling as he signed a mint-condition action figure of himself (with karate-chop action!). “I think you’ve said enough.”

    The man from the audience that was dressed like Bright Red came to the front of the line and set down a replica of Jen’s sword on the table with a thunk. “Make it out to Steve Garrett, your biggest fan,” he said proudly. 

Jen absently picked up the sword and began signing it. “I’m just saying, guys, I think there’s room for us to commiserate here. I mean, this is worse than being forgotten -- we’re being replaced! That’s gotta be something for us to talk about, right?”

“Jen, it’s not like you really cared about us back in the glory days anyway,” said Brian harshly as he signed a commemorative plate. “Why would you care now?”

    “Because- wait,” said Jen, distracted, examining the prop Sword Scarlet in front of her. “What’s this replica made of?”

    Steve Garrett’s smile widened. “That’s no replica -- that’s the real deal! I bought it off eBay a couple of years ago. I’m a really big fan!” he added, as if that explained things.

    “You bought my actual sword… to get it autographed?!”

    “Sure did! Best $300 I ever spent!”     Jen could hardly contain her rage. “This sword has slain demons and knighted demigods. It was forged in the heart of an inverted volcano and tempered in the corona of a dwarf star -- and you’re saying you bought it for less than the cost of an XBOX?!”

    Steve’s smile was so wide it was like his face was about to split. “Isn’t that a steal?”

    “Settle down, Jen.” Brian was also grinning now, his Spear Gilded propped up against the table like a walking stick. Jen quickly and furiously signed the sword and sat down with a huff. Brian leaned over. “That’s what you get for selling it to a pawn shop,” he mocked.

    “Shut up.”

    They continued signing autographs for the masses in silence, Jen’s desires to make amends left in the dust. Eventually, the crowd drained to a trickle, and the trickle evaporated into a few stragglers coming to the booth every now and then. Forgotten again.

    Jen turned to the others. “Look, I’m sorry, okay. Is there anything I can do to make this right?”

    “Yeah,” suggested Evelyn. “You could shut up.”

    Jen scoffed. “Quit being childish. I’m serious.”

    The other two sat, stone-faced. A barely-audible rumble erupted from the other side of the convention center; probably a more popular hero had made an entrance.

    “Jen-” Brian began.

    “Quiet,” interrupted Evelyn. “Do you hear that?”

    The rumble had grown louder, and the trio could now hear more screams than usual echoing throughout the hall. A large swarm of people clad in blue and purple containment suits had begun flooding through the hall, toting comically-large plasticine guns.

    “Are those-” began Brian.

    Jen’s eyes narrowed. “Henchmen.”

    The containment suit goons began barking orders to the passerby, herding them towards the center of the hall with gestures of their large weaponry.

    “Henchmen? Here?” Evelyn said, her quavering voice unusual for her. “But that would mean-”

    “They must have a boss somewhere nearby.”

    Sure enough, a skull-faced figure had taken the stand in the middle of the convention and had begun shouting something to the herded masses; a monologue, probably, though Jen couldn’t tell because they were really far away, and the villain had failed to bring a megaphone (classic rookie villain mistake). Still, whoever they were, they looked at least somewhat threatening. Jen’s fists clenched, but Brian put his hand on her shoulder, his voice panicked. “Jen, we can’t take them! We’re unarmed and outgunned.”

    “You have your spear,” Jen pointed out.

    “I’ve been using it as a hat stand for a decade now! We should just run.”

    Evelyn flipped their table over with a thud and crouched behind it.

    “Evelyn, what the heck are you doing?” hissed Jen.

    “Taking cover.”

    “Behind a plastic table?!”

    Evelyn looked sheepish. “It works in the movies.”

    Brian was also huddled behind the table now, clutching his spear like a security blanket. “I’m with Evelyn. Let’s bunker down until this blows over.”

    “Seriously?” Jen looked out at the swarming henchmen in the crowd. Nobody had been hurt yet, but if someone didn’t do something fast there could be serious repercussions. Crouching behind the overturned table, she turned to the other former Brights. “I think it’s time for us to go back into action.”

    The two looked at her blankly. Evelyn spoke up first. “I mean, it’s not like we’re the only heroes here. Someone like Angelman can handle this. Or Agent Alchemy!”

    “We can’t just stand aside and do nothing while people are in danger!”

“Jen, we’re retired for a reason. Maybe Blitz is right to reboot us; we’ve lost our touch.” Brian looked teary-eyed, and he hugged his spear like a beloved stuffed animal. “We’re failures.”

    “Hey.” Jen put her left hand on Brian’s shoulder, and her right on Evelyn’s. “We’re a team. I know I was a terrible leader, and an even worse friend, and there’s nothing I can do now that can change that. But right now innocent people are going to get hurt, and I can’t stand by and allow that.”

    Brian sniffled and wiped his nose on his cape. Evelyn nodded. “Right, let’s go do this.”

    “Alright, first of all, we’ll need weapons. Evelyn, where’s the Bow Verdant?”

    Evelyn inhaled sharply. “Probably my ex-wife’s house.”

    “...why?”

    “...she got it in the divorce.”

    “...HOW?!”

    “I don’t know, man, she had a really good lawyer!”

    “Fine, whatever!” Jen stood up. “Brian, Evelyn, flank me. Let’s do what we do best.”

“What’s that?” asked the two.

Jen smiled, a cocky look she hadn’t used in years. “Save the day.”

    The three of them rushed out through the crowd of huddled civilians, panting and huffing as they struggled to move their middle-aged bodies quickly. As they ran, Jen spotted the geek with the poor cosplay; he was huddled beneath a table of Lego figures, her precious sword abandoned nearby. Dashing by, Jen scooped up the weapon and continued running. As they arrived at the edge of the crowd, they saw a horde of masked henchmen scuffling with the various heroes and security of the convention. Some of the goons began to look at them. Jen let loose her most confident-sounding laugh.

    “Evildoers, beware - for you face the Bright Brigade!” She leveled her sword at them. “And when we’re together, you don’t stand a chance.”

    For a brief, shining moment, they looked and felt like a team again. Then her sword’s blade fell off with a clatter; in her rush, Jen must have mixed up the nerds, and had accidentally grabbed a plasticine prop instead of the real deal.

     The henchmen shared a look and aimed their weaponry at the brigadiers. “Aw, screw it,” Jen declared, tossing the hilt aside and putting up her fists; by her side, Evelyn did the same, and Brian gripped his spear like a gladiator.  “Let’s do this.” And together the three former heroes plunged into battle for the very last time.