#they stopped giving him new lab coats after the first 5 times

[bcbdrums]

Grasping for the Wind - pt. 5

First Chapter | Previous Chapter Read on: AO3 FFn

A Soul Eater story. It's about Stein and Spirit.

A/N: I don't know if it's clear kinda what's...going on in Stein's head in the battle. I hope it's clear.

Part 5

As if a door had been opened, suddenly the Invisible Man became visible, and about thirty feet distant stood an older but familiar figure. Taller and broader than Spirit, but as pale as Death himself. His flame-colored hair he now wore shaved so closely to his skin it was nearly invisible, giving a strange orange cast to his head. But his red eyes were exactly the same, staring back into his with that arrogant, knowing look.

Stein's grip on the staff tightened. He knew he should strike while he had the chance. But...

"You were one of them..." Spirit said in revelation. "You're one of the students that saw it happen... You watched him kill Sachiko. Why didn't you tell me?"

Stein's hands were sweating. He adjusted his grip.

"I'll let you join me now. You still want to, I can see it. How can you not, with that boring, monotonous life they've trapped you into?"

Stein raised the scythe and took a step forward, but in an instant Griffin was gone again, invisible and silent.

Stein grit his teeth and rushed for the spot, swinging wildly, but he only cut air. He swung again behind him, the blade slicing through the space with a force that would be deadly if it made impact. But the man was gone.

"What are you doing!? This is reckless. We need to get out of here, we can't beat him like this."

"Quiet!"

Stein closed his eyes again, his teeth bared as he listened. A bead of perspiration dripped down his temple and he told himself it was the desert's heat as the sun slowly rose. Not nerves. Not old desires surfacing. Just the heat, and nothing more.

He adjusted his grip again as he nearly lost hold of Spirit as his hands continued to sweat. Since when had the scythe become so heavy?

"You know your life is a waste," Griffin said. Now he seemed to be in front of the dry slough. His voice was echoing less from there, and Stein kept his eyes closed as he took a step nearer the sound. "After graduating you obeyed Death's whims for a few years, and then what? You left to do what you wanted to do, but what do you have to show for it? Years, alone in that lab. All alone. And all for nothing. Your life is meaningless."

Stein took another step and stopped, not wanting to appear as if he was advancing.

"If I can drive him farther from the butte, then I can pinpoint his location more accurately," he said in a whisper.

"It's not going to work! Let it go, Stein. We'll get him when we have a better plan."

"Together we could have been the greatest in academy history. We could have surpassed Death himself, and installed a new order to this world. But no, you wanted to make a death scythe. Lured by the lies of the glory that would come with the feat. Well, congratulations. You did it. The DWMA's greatest meister, they call you. And what of it?"

Stein felt his fingers slipping and held onto the staff tighter. For all of Griffin's apparent spying, he had apparently missed the part where he and Spirit had parted ways for over a decade. He felt the tension in his former partner rising after Griffin had made the error, and suddenly realized it had been rising ever since their old classmate had revealed himself with the vicious attack.

And he further realized, opening his eyes with a start, that the invisible voice was approaching.

"What have you done in all those years Death gave you your freedom? Doing 'what you wanted to do.' Well, now you're back, shackled into the same, boring cycle all over again. Did you ever spend the time wondering what could have been? Knowing what you could have been, if you'd come with me?"

Stein's fingers slipped again, and he planted the base of the staff in front of him in the sand. He wiped his palms one after the other on his coat and then held onto Spirit tightly until his knuckles were white.

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

"I screwed up."

"Don't cry, Maka. Papa's here."

"If I had only listened! Soul was right. He said we should run away. He knew we couldn't beat someone that strong. If only I had listened to Soul... Then he wouldn't be...wouldn't be..."

"Don't worry, Maka. Stein will patch him up, good as new, he's good at that."

Spirit looked across the back of the ambulance at Stein, his expression unreadable as he stroked Maka's back.

"Papa promises."

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

"Stein? Stein? Hello, you in there?" Naigus said.

Stein set the needle and sutures down on the tray and took off one glove, dropping it in the waste bucket. He reached up and turned the screw in his head slowly, once...twice.

The fight against the Demon Sword had been elating. A part of himself that he'd been forced to forget for years felt alive again in those moments when he resonated with the soul that was as familiar to him as his own.

Except that it wasn't anymore. That fight had just been an echo of the past.

Stein moved his hand briefly to the scar on his face, and an involuntary shiver raced across his skin. It was tender, as if fresh, and he wondered if his old wounds hadn't bled and he had just failed to notice.

They weren't in sync, he and Spirit. Their souls were still worn and frayed at the seams due to the choices he'd made, meant for their good, but choices that ultimately drove them apart.

He'd sacrificed a gift he'd never thought possible for himself to pursue his own ambitions. And what did he have to show for it?

He craved dissection as if it were the only spring in a vast desert. He knew it was madness, and for five years he had let the tantalizing hints of something greater be his excuse to bring that madness down upon his partner. Upon someone he had allowed himself to trust, and for reasons he never understood, had reciprocated that trust.

But now, thanks to him...

'I screwed up.'

Thanks to him, the only real friend he'd ever had lie dying. Unless he could do the opposite of what every fiber of his being drove him toward.

"Stein? Stein!"

His hand had returned to the screw, turning and turning, the installation being the self-induced permanent punishment he had judged himself deserving of for his crimes.

If he had only listened to the correct voice. If he had ignored the distraction of Griffin's verbal attack upon his life, and the futile, vain promises...

The weapon had followed selfish ambition, and it had transformed the revolving door of madness into a bottomless pit. It had cost him the potential life he could have lived. And it had cost him the life of his meister.

Stein had walked in and out of that door too many times in his lonely existence. It had already cost him his partner and friend...

Had it cost him everything?

"Stein!"

Naigus had set her gloved hand on his shoulder now to snap him out of it, and he stopped turning the screw to look down at where her hand lay. Spirit's blood was once again on his shoulder.

"How ironic."

"...What is?"

Spirit was right, and he had known it at the time. The argument itself was bitter evidence that they weren't in sync anymore.

Spirit never argued with him in battle. Even when he could feel the wavering disagreement in his soul, he never argued and never questioned. He allowed Stein the lead as meister and only spoke up if he felt it was important, which would clue Stein in to listen. Likewise, Stein didn't argue with him. They kept each other in check, as it should be, and the unity of their wavelengths had at one time been the envy of all at the academy. The trust they had in one another that he failed to fully comprehend was at its utmost when they were fighting, when resonating.

But it had been absent that morning. It was his fault. In a horrifying anti-climax to everything he had worked toward— now, just like Griffin, he had killed his meister.

He turned the screw.

"I screwed up. If I had listened..."

"Stein."

Naigus released his shoulder, and he watched as she changed her glove and then offered him a clean one as well.

"He's not dead."

Stein released a trembling breath. He let the slow rhythm of the heart monitor be his new point of focus and looked down. There was no beauty here, in the deep wounds inflicted through jealousy and hate.

He broadened his focus, away from the details of the injuries and everything beneath the skin that called to him and to the knowledge that this was the body of his friend. He let his eyes rise to Spirit's face again, tight with pain even through the anesthetic.

"He needs you."

He met Naigus's hand over Spirit's body and took the glove. His own life still would not have a happy ending. But if it was within his control...at least it would not end like Griffin's.

[bakuhoes-dumbass]

Aberration - Chapter 1

MHA!Various x Fem!Reader

Thriller/Horror/Drama

Criminal!AU

Words: 2.3k

A/N: Yay, here’s the first chapter of my new AU! It might be a little slower at first but it’ll pick up the further we get into it. So I hope you like this!

Warnings: Yandere Themes, Mentions of murder, blood, felonies, bullying, swearing.

Disclaimer: I do not own the characters of MHA, just this story. In no way does this reflect the characters, writers or VAs of the show/manga. MINORS DNI.

~~~

Aberration Masterlist/Character profiles

~~~

In this world, mutations, renamed as ‘Quirks’, are abnormal. Only about 5%-8% of the world population are known to have these so called ‘Quirks’. You are a graduate of one of the most prestigious science tech schools in the country. You’ve been selected to work for a secret scientific research facility that houses some of the most notorious criminals in the nation. Besides their crimes, what makes these individuals incredibly dangerous are their mutations. After meeting these individuals, they seem to have taking a liking to you. That should make your research and search for the cure all that much easier…

Right?

~~~

Before you stands one of the largest facilities you have ever seen. You take a deep breath, attempting to calm your rapidly beating heart. Adjusting the strap on your bag, you make your way into the research center.

Upon entering, you gasp in wonder. The inside is huge, tall pure white walls that meet at a double paned glass ceiling. In front of you is a wall of security, stretching to accommodate the vast interior of the lobby. You walk up to the nearest security officer and give them your information. Thankfully, you were on a list and after checking you over, you're granted entrance to the building.

That's where you meet a man and a woman, both dressed in white lab coats and carrying clipboards. You bow your head to the two of them and they return the gesture.

"Ms. Y/N, I presume? My name is Shota Aizawa and this is my assistant, Momo Yaoyorozu." The older of the two speak.

You smile at the two. "Yes, nice to meet you. I'm Y/N, L/N, graduate of UA science tech. I am so happy to be here and look forward to working with the two of you."

The younger girl nods and smiles, gesturing behind the two of them. "If you would kindly follow us, we can get started."

~~~

"Ms. Y/N, here's the list of the inmates you will be working with from this point on."

Momo hands you a clipboard containing pictures and descriptions of each individual. Your eyes scan the information on the page in front of you, your brow raising with each word you read. "There is… quite a bit of information on these individuals."

Aizawa nods. "Considering how dangerous the subjects are, it's best to have every detail we can."

You internally cringed at the term 'subject'. These were criminals, yes, but they were still living breathing people. Noone deserves to be dehumanized, no matter the reason.

Shaking your head of those thoughts, you continue to look over the notes in your hands. One in particular catches your eye. " 'Multiple counts of 3rd degree murder by reason of insanity' and yet he's only deemed as a level 4 danger?"

The doctor looks over your shoulder at the character profile. "Ah, yes. Fumikage Tokoyami. He's an interesting one, to say the least." You wait for him to continue, but seeing as it doesn't seem like he will, you gesture for him to elaborate. "Tokoyami himself is actually fairly harmless and incredibly cooperating, which is why he gets a level 4 only. However…" Aizawa looks down the hall of the facility to a door near the end. "Dark Shadow is deemed a level 9."

Your eyes shoot up in shock. "Dark Shadow? A level 9? Explain."

"Dark Shadow is his mutation. It's a completely sentient being that he harbors inside of him. Highly dangerous, more so if there is darkness." He looks back at you. "I'll let him explain the reason why he was instituted. He always prefers to explain the story himself."

The more Aizawa explains Tokoyami's situation, the more your excitement builds up, wanting desperately to meet this man. This was such an interesting mutation and you couldn't wait to hear everything he had to tell you. You take a breath to calm your childish manner and clear your throat.

"If it's alright with you, sir, I'd like-" You look down at your clipboard once again. "'Inmate 06' to be the first one I meet with."

Aizawa nods and writes something down in his notebook. "Very well. Follow me this way please."

You follow the doctor down the long white hallway, your excitement growing with each step. Along the way, you notice each door on the facility that lines either side of the stretched hall. Each door had a narrow window towards the top and a small number engraved underneath. You don't take too much notice and keep following the doctor to your destination. However, an eerie feeling makes you freeze in your tracks.

You slowly rotate your head and look at the inmate's door you stopped next to. The color drains from your face as you see two ice blue eyes peering right into yours. It felt like your breath was stolen, a hint of fear and anxiety built up within you from this intense gaze. After what felt like hours, you snap your gaze back to Aizawa and Momo, who were standing in front of a door you were also supposed to be at.

"I would highly advise you to keep cautious while you are in this facility. While we keep all inmates in cuffs that neutralize their mutations, the technology has not been 100% perfected yet and parts of their powers may leak out. That is why we have additional precautionary measures in place for each inmate." Aizawa gives you an impartial look as you walk over. "Now. The only special precaution with Inmate 06 is the lights must stay on at all times. There are no light switches in his cell, so nothing should go wrong. But like I said, always stay cautious."

You nod your head at the doctor's words and turn to face the door. Aizawa places a hand onto the keypad next to the door, scanning his prints before buzzing and opening the door. You give the man one last nod before making your way inside the room. The room itself is bare. White floors, white walls and an equally white ceiling. Nothing was in there except a desk with a chair and a bed.

On top of that bed sat a young man with the body of a human and the head of a crow. Your eyes widen in awe at the beautiful being in front of you. Tokoyami tilts his head and gives you a curious look.

"Oh. Hello, there. I've never seen you before."

The deep voice of the man shocks you. You bow your head and give the bird man a smile. "Hello, Tokoyami. My name is Y/N. I'm the new scientist at this facility. I'm here to get to know and observe you all to help further our findings for a cure. I hope we can be friends."

Tokoyami blinks. "You want to be… friends? With us?"

"Yeah, of course. Why not?" Your smile never leaves your face.

"Well, maybe because we're all… felons? The greater majority of us being murderers?"

"I truly believe everyone deserves a second chance." You gesture to the desk chair, silently asking if you could sit. The man nods and you greatly take your seat. "Now, would you ever be so kind as to answer a few questions for me, Tokoyami? I would like to get to know you a little better." You take out your pen and notebook, opening to a fresh page.

Tokoyami nods again and you give him a smile. "Just a few standard questions first. Can you please state your full name, age and date of birth?"

"Fumikage Tokoyami, age 22, October 30th."

"What is the name of your quirk and how does it work?"

Tokoyami fiddles with the quirk-cancelling cuffs around his wrists at the mention of his quirk but answers anyway. "It's called Dark Shadow. It's a fully sentient shadow that resides inside my body. It can come out when I call call it or it can show itself on it's own. But it's always connected to me and cannot be separated. It…" Tokoyami takes a breath. "It gets stronger the darker my surroundings are. So the less light, the less control I have over it. If it gets too dark, it completely takes over me, no longer under my control."

The longer you listen to him, the wider your eyes get and the more they shine in wonder. "That is incredible! To have that kind of quirk is truly fascinating!"

Hearing your words of praise would have made Tokoyami blush, if he could. He clears his throat in embarrassment. "Why, thank you for those kind words. Though, I doubt having this...quirk, as you say, is all to be impressed about."

You shake your head. "You may not think so, but really, I've never seen anything like it." You excitedly write a few things down before making eye contact with him again. "Now onto my final question of the day. Can you please tell me the reason why you are here?"

Tokoyami stays silent for a moment, staring at nothing in particular, residing in his thoughts. You clear your throat and he looks up to you. You give him a small, comforting smile and it causes Tokoyami's heart to beat harder. For some unknown reason, he suddenly feels like he can trust you with anything.

"I've been charged with multiple counts of 3rd degree murder." He sighs, recalling that day. "I was invited to a college party on a date, by someone whom I had grown quite infatuated with. I never really was one to socialize and never really had any friends. But I really liked this person, so I went. At first it was going okay, nothing too out of the ordinary. Then, the host decided that playing truth or dare was the way to go.

 So my date dragged me to sit down and join them. Every time I was asked, I always chose truth. And everytime, their questions were about my appearance, my mutation. Laughing at all my answers, mocking my looks, talking about how unnatural I was. The more they asked, the more my anxiety and anger built up. But my stubbornness didn't want to show any weakness, so I stayed. 

Finally, I decided to just choose dare instead. At that point, I decided that nothing could be more humiliating than what they've already done." His sharp, red eyes flickered to yours. "Oh, how wrong I was. They dared me to go into the closet with my so-called 'date'. We were shut in and from then, they decided to tell me how this whole thing was a set up, just to humiliate me. That anyone with mutations like myself should just disappear because of how disgusting we are." He spits out that word like it was rotten food. "Remember how I said Dark Shadow gains control in the dark? Well, with my anger rising and the fact that it was almost pitch black in that closet, I lost control of myself and Dark Shadow took control of me. Next thing I remember, I was standing in the middle of the college dorm party, blood painting the floors, the walls, and the entirety of my class slaughtered."

You almost dropped your pen in shock but regained your composure. You give the poor young man a sad smile. He sighs and finishes off his explanation. "I was arrested and charged with multiple counts of 3rd degree murder by reason of insanity, considering I was technically not in my right state of mind at the time."

The two of you sit there in silence, basking in all this new-found information. You close your notebook and set your pen down, facing Tokoyami directly. "Listen to me. There is nothing wrong with the way you look or your quirk. Just because it isn't the societal norm, doesn't mean it's disgusting or wrong. Remember that."

Tokoyami blinks in surprise."Um, thank you." Those were the only words he could say, as how shocked he was at what you said.

You tilt your head and stare at him. "If I may ask, would I be able to feel your head? I'm very curious as to what your feathers feel like. It would greatly help my research as well."

"Oh. U-um, yeah. Sure."

You move to gently sit next to Tokoyami, so as to not startle him too much. You slowly lift your hand and place it on his head, eyes lighting up as you card your fingers through his feathers. "Oh wow, they're so soft!"

Tokoyami's heart speeds up, his feathers ruffling at your touch. He gazes at you with something akin to admiration. No one was ever gentle with him like this before. After another few seconds, you retreat your hand, Tokoyami almost whimpering at the absence.

"Well, I better get going. I have quite a few more things to do today before my shift is over." You gather up your things and bow your head at the half bird boy. "I greatly appreciate your time and look forward to our future sessions. Have a good rest of your day!" You smile at Tokoyami before heading back to the door and signaling Aizawa to open it.

"Goodbye, Ms. Y/N. I look forward to meeting with you again." Tokoyami watches you leave his room. Once you're gone, he runs his hand through his feathers, imagining they were your fingers.

As the door closes, you turn to Aizawa who gives you a disappointed look.

"What?"

"You touched the inmate. Why in the hell would you do that?"

You place your hand on your hip and give the doctor a stern look. "I was curious about his mutation and wanted to see how it felt."

He sighs and runs a hand down his face. "We try to avoid any physical contact with any of the inmates, as it may trigger something deep within them. Remember, Y/N. Every single one of these individuals are dangerous and unstable. Any abnormal behavior could result in catastrophic consequences."

You sigh and shake your head, giving him a chaste nod. "Yes, Sir. You're right. I promise to heed your warning and modify how I work."

The doctor looks satisfied as he turns on his heel and walks further down the long hallway. You quickly follow to keep up. "Now, on to your next subject. Inmate 04, Eijiro Kirishima." You flip the page of your inmate profiles to see a picture of a red-haired man. "He is of a higher danger level, so make sure to keep your guard up. And for the love of God, under any circumstances…

Do not touch him."

~~~

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[heauxplesslydevoted]

Coming Down (Ethan x MC)

Summary: They break up. Dassit

A/N: I’ve been tired of this imposter Ethan, and the back of forth nature of his romance route for the entirety of book 3, so I wrote this.

Warnings: None

Title Inspo

~v~

Naomi’s fingernails tap impatiently against her leg as the shrill ring of her cell phone rings at her ear. It rings 5 long times before she’s sent to voicemail.

“Hello, you’ve reached Dr. Ethan Ramsey. I’m sorry for not answering your phone call, but leave a message, and I’ll get back to you as soon as I can. Thank you.”

“Ethan, it’s me...again. I haven’t heard from you in,” lifting her wrist, Naomi checks the time on her watch, “wow, in over 24 hours. I’ve been calling and calling, to no avail, and you just aren’t responding.”

The news of Ethan getting hit with a malpractice lawsuit hit her like a freight train. As soon as things started to feel good again, as soon as the diagnostics team started to find its rhythm with two new physicians, this torpedoes any chance of normalcy she could ever experience.

“If you could give me a call back and let me hear the sound of your voice, that’d be great. Bye.”

There’s a lot more that she wants to say, but she’s been given a limited window of time so Naomi hangs up.

Switching tactics, Naomi opens up her messages, and scrolls to her thread with Ethan.

Naomi: Hi

Naomi: Are you okay? I haven’t heard from you in a while.

Naomi: Can you at least reply, telling me to leave you alone?

Naomi: At this point, I’d settle for at least knowing if you’re alive.

She waits a few minutes, and when she gets no response, she shoves her phone into the pocket of her white coat. Anxiousness and worry pools in the pit of her stomach, and the only thing she can think about is Ethan’s well being. And this situation doesn’t bode well because Naomi is still in the middle of her shift.

Her thoughts are interrupted by the sound of quiet chatter as the door to the diagnostics team’s office opens and in walks Tobias and Harper. Their conversation is cut short once they notice the youngest member of the team.

“Hi, Naomi,” Tobias greets, an easygoing smile adorning his face. “What’s up?”

She wishes she could feel as casual as he looks, because every part of her body is twisted inside out and turned upside down.

“Have either of you talked to Ethan today?” Naomi asks, skipping the pleasantries.

“I spoke to him yesterday just to gauge how he was handling the malpractice suit,” Tobias answers. “Obviously, the conversation didn’t last long because he and I rarely interact outside of these four walls, but he seems…” he trails off when he notices Naomi’s face fall. “What’s wrong? Is everything alright?”

Any other time, Naomi would be ecstatic to hear about Tobias extending an olive branch, and Ethan actually accepting the support, but today isn’t that day. She’s been trying to get in touch with him all day with no success, but he answers a phone call from his sworn enemy?

“I haven’t heard from Ethan today, so I’m at least glad to know he’s breathing,” Naomi says, her voice tight.

Too caught up in her own pity party, Naomi misses the way Tobias and Harper exchange worried glances. The team has been through enough the past few months, the last thing they need is romantic friction between Ethan and Naomi seeping into the office.

“Maybe he’s turned his phone off since then?” Tobias suggests. “Times like this can force you into an introspective mood, and he’s probably going technology free.”

Naomi chuckles humorlessly. She appreciates Tobias’s effort to satiate her foul mood, but she can’t think of a single excuse short of death that could justify Ethan’s behavior.

She stands, dusting off her coat and straightening it out. “Thanks. I’m going to get some lab work done on our patient, page me if you need anything.”

“Will do.”

Without another word, Naomi exits the office.

Working helps slightly. For an hour or so, Naomi is successful in turning off her brain and focusing diligently on work. She manages to not think about Ethan at all.

Until she hears his name brought up in conversation. She’s strolling towards the nurse's station when she sees Sarah and another nurse, Ronnie huddled in a corner.

“Sounds like Dr. Ramsey’s not as perfect as everyone thinks, huh?”

“Screwing up a standard tracheotomy that way? Frankly, I’m just surprised it took the patient this long to sue!”

Naomi slows her steps before she stops walking all together. The nurses are so engrossed in their conversation, they don’t even notice her.

“I heard from Marlene that the patient wouldn’t have even needed a trach if they hadn’t dosed her wrong in the first place,” Sarah adds in an excited whisper.

“Seriously? That’s next level…”

Her first instinct is to stop this, to tell them to stop talking, the urge to protect Ethan still as strong as it’s always been.

But she stops herself from doing that. Because why should she? Why should she put forth the effort to defend the honor and reputation of a man that doesn’t even have the decency to answer her phone calls?

And just like that, she’s plunged back into her flurry of conflicting emotions: worry, fear, annoyance, and most of all, anger. The emotions war inside her, all fighting for dominance, and she hasn’t felt like this since her intern year when he left to go to South America without any sort of goodbye or correspondence.

That wasn’t a good period in her life. Naomi can still feel the cold grip of anxiety that plagued her chest when she came into work one day and he was nowhere to be seen. She heard through a LVN that he left before confirming it with Naveen. She can still taste the saltiness of the tears she shed after leaving her 5th unanswered voicemail. Experiencing such a high of beating her ethics trial and getting picked for the diagnostic team,  and the low of him leaving in that short amount of time left her spiraling and isolated, and it took entirely too much time clawing herself out of that dark place.

Turning on her heel, Naomi speed walks in the other direction, her original plan long forgotten. The hospital passes her by in a blur as her legs move, the rest of her body and brain moving on autopilot.

She doesn’t stop moving until she’s in front of the residents’ lounge. She spots Aurora, Bryce, and Sienna sitting at a table.

“Naomi, come join us!” Sienna exclaims. “We’re going to make cappuccinos with this fancy machine.”

“I’ll have to take a raincheck on that,” Naomi says. She turns to Bryce. “Can I borrow your car keys please?”

“Everything okay?”

“Yeah, I just have a couple errands to run and I don’t feel like taking the train. I’ll bring it back with a full tank of gas and everything.”

“I’m not gonna nitpick you about gas, Omi.” Bryce’s warm gaze sweeps across Naomi’s face, studying her. If he notices anything wrong with her, which he probably does because Bryce is a lot more perceptive than he gives himself credit for, he thankfully doesn’t mention it. He reaches into the pocket of his mint green scrub pants and pulls out his keys. He tosses the keys to Naomi with a wink, and she catches them mid air.

“I keep a shovel in the trunk in case you need to bury a body.”

Whether he realizes what is going on with her, or if he just cracked a joke to lighten the mood, Naomi is grateful either way.

~v~

Naomi spends an hour driving around Boston, people watching and attempting to collect her thoughts before she ends up in Back Bay at Ethan’s apartment complex. She didn’t want to go to his house in her previous state, guns blazing and emotions all over her place.

Even on the ride on the elevator up to his unit, her stomach is in knots and her heart beats faster than normal. She hasn’t been this nervous about seeing Ethan in a long time, and it dawns on her just how fucked this entire situation is. Why should she be nervous to talk to the man who claims to want to be with her?

Steeling her nerves, Naomi issues three sharp knocks to Ethan’s front door. Approximately 45 seconds pass before the door opens.

“Naomi!” Ethan’s eyes widen when he sees her standing there. “What are you doing here?”

“Are you going to let me in, or should we have this conversation in the hallway?” Naomi asks. Ethan steps aside, widening the door so Naomi can enter. “Thank you.”

The apartment is stale, like Ethan hasn’t opened the windows in a few days. He looks disheveled, the bags under his eyes are extremely pronounced like he hasn’t gotten a wink of sleep.

For lack of a better word, Ethan is a mess. And she wants nothing more than to just...wrap her arms around him and make everything better. But she doesn’t. She keeps her distance.

Ethan shuts the door before turning back to her. “Can I get you something to drink?”

“No.”

“Well let’s sit down.”

“No, I think I’d rather stand because I don’t plan on being here long.”

The coldness stuns Ethan. Naomi almost seems indifferent towards him, something he’s never experienced before. It doesn’t go unnoticed that she didn’t bother greeting him warmly, no hug or kiss, no excitement in her voice, nothing.

“I needed to see with my own two eyes that you were alive and well,” Naomi starts. “Because you’ve gone radio silent on me. I know you’ve seen me calling and texting. Your phone works just fine because you picked up a call from Tobias of all people.”

He averts his gaze, ashamed of himself. “I’m sorry, I–”

She holds up a hand, stopping him mid-sentence. Naomi doesn’t believe for one second that he’s apologizing due to actual remorse. “I have spent the entire day wracked with intense worry. I feel like I’ve been turned upside down, and I could barely focus on work. Every time I thought I could be productive, something or someone was there to remind me of you. And then I’d spend more time ruminating over you and your situation, and the fact that you’re ignoring me, and then I’d feel like absolute shit. And earlier today, as I listened to the nurses gossip about you, I realized that this feels so much like your two month sabbatical to the Amazon, and our relationship hasn’t changed at all since then.”

“That’s not true,” Ethan argues.

“It is,” Naomi insists. “One step forward doesn’t mean anything if we end up taking two steps back immediately afterwards. A year and a half later, you’re still holding me at arms length, keeping yourself closed off, ignoring my calls.”

“I don’t mean to do this, to be this way.”

“But you continue to do it, so at this point you have to see it’s a pattern. You won’t even open up and talk to me about this lawsuit that’s being waged against you.”

“I just don’t want you getting needlessly involved.”

“While it’s a noble excuse, it’s complete and utter bullshit. If you think you’re doing something to save my reputation, remember nothing you do will ever top me almost losing my medical license my intern year, and then having a resident face a malpractice lawsuit a few months later. So come on, give me another excuse.”

“I’m doing this for you!”

“How? How could this possibly be for me?”

“Everything I touch becomes tainted!” Ethan snaps. “Because there is something wrong, in which everyone arounds me leaves or dies, or everything falls apart. I don’t have control or autonomy over anything, so yes, the one precious thing in my life, I’m too scared to touch.”

“But I have been right here with you! I was right here in this exact same spot when we worked on Naveen’s case. I sat by your side while we watched over Dolores’s son. I was there when they wheeled your mother into the hospital, and when you took her to rehab. Time and time again, I’ve proven to you that my loyalty is steadfast, and not once have I ever wavered, so you don’t get to stand here and punish me for some unrealized fear. You don’t get to treat me like I’m a passenger in this relationship, if you can even call it that.”

That’s what gives him pause. “Of course this is a relationship.”

“This isn’t a relationship, I am just a woman you sleep with. Occasionally you open up to me, we share a cute moment and promises, and then you clam up and up goes the barriers, and it starts all over again. And every single time, we’re a little bit deeper into this thing we’re in. I’ve shared more, I’ve let myself be more vulnerable with you, emotionally and physically, I’ve deluded myself into thinking ‘This time it’s the real thing,’. And I’m afraid that this is going to be our reality. One day I wake up, 3 years in, tentatively living with you, trying to settle into the pieces of a life I’ve scrounged up with you, and you do this again.”

“I don’t speak on it, and I don’t like to because I try to keep it all together, but you don’t understand the toll it takes on me every time we do this back and forth. I was a train wreck when you quit. I had the trial looming over my head, Landry, a guy I considered one of my closest friends betrayed me in the worst possible way, you weren’t the only person scared of losing Naveen, and I couldn’t even verbalize any of it to you because you slammed a door in my face when I tried to bring it up, and then you left me. And then you did it again, and I spent two months worried that you might not even come home because you could contract the deadly disease you were off fighting. And then you go on national television declaring your relationship status, and you made promises to me on my deathbed that led nowhere, and then finally we make some headway in Hawaii and establish what we have going on, and then I come home to this. So while you say one thing to me, time and time again, your actions say otherwise. It’s clear I’m not a priority.” 

This conversation triggers Ethan’s fight or flight response. He doesn’t know where this conversation is headed, but he’s smart enough to know it’s nowhere good.

“Naomi, what are you saying? Spell it out to me like I’m a preschooler.”

“I think we need a break,” Naomi says in one breath, afraid she’ll break if she prolongs this any further. The six words leave a sour taste in her mouth that she has to choke back.

“No,” Ethan’s tone is gruff, and the seriousness almost startled Naomi. “No, we’re not breaking up.”

“From where I’m standing, we already have,” Naomi retorts. “I’m just confirming it.”

Ethan takes one long stride towards Naomi, but she takes a step back. “Look, I am a daft asshole to put it mildly, and I know I have a lot of work to do, but this is by no means a reason for us to break up.” He takes another step forward, and now Naomi is backed up against the door. He tugs her forward, wrapping his arms around her. “I am sorry. I know the words probably sound hollow, but trust me when I say I mean it. I’ll fix this, I’ll do whatever it takes. You’re the only person I want, the only one I’ll ever want, and I’m not losing you. Not now, not ever.”

Through this right embrace, Naomi can feel just how rapidly his heart is beating. He’s scared.

A tear slips from the corner of her eye, and she’s too drained to even wipe it away. “This is reactionary. You’re saying all of this because you’re panicked, but if you meant any of what you just said, it wouldn’t take the threat of a breakup in order to want to change things.”

“It shouldn’t have taken me this long to realize what a fool I’ve been,” Ethan says. He refuses to let go of her, his arms still wrapped so tightly around her petite frame, he almost worries about crushing her.

“I agree.” What does that even mean? She gives him nothing more than that, and Ethan is left to stew in his own doubt and worry. Naomi breaks free of his embrace and presses a palm to his chest, signaling him to give her some space. “But I still think we need some space.”

“You don’t mean that.”

“Trust me, I do.”

It becomes hard to breathe. When Ethan woke up this morning, the last thing he expected was Naomi to dump him. “What can I do? Tell me how to fix this. Do you want consistency? Done, I’ll talk to you every single day, multiple times a day. Transparency? Sit down right now, and I’ll explain this entire lawsuit top to bottom. You want proof that I’m never going to up and leave again, you can take my fucking passport. Naomi, I don’t care what I have to do, I will do it, but I will not accept you walking out of that door.”

Naomi inhales deeply, trying to stop a full son from bursting out of her chest. He’s saying all the right things, but at the wrong time. It’s too late now. “I’ve warred with myself all day about this decision. You’re clearly not in the right space to sustain a healthy relationship, and that’s fine. I just need to remove myself from the situation, for my own health and well-being. And I think you need to do the same.”

“So...what? This is it? It’s over?”

“Let’s be honest Ethan, you never gave us the opportunity to begin.” She wants to touch him so badly, reach out a run her hand through his hair or stroke his beard one more time. It takes everything in her to not. “You’re a great doctor, one of the best ones I know, so I really hope you beat this entire lawsuit and I get to see you back at Edenbrook. Take care of yourself, Ethan.

Ethan shakes his head in denial. He refuses to let things end like this, and for her to give him the same cool professionalism she extends to every other coworker.

“Naomi, wait–”

She’s out of his apartment before he can convince her to stay. It doesn’t register until he hears the soft click of her door shutting that she’s actually gone. And another minute passes before the gravity of the situation finally dawns on him.

For the first time in a long time, he’s truly alone.

~v~

Tags: @mvalentine @choicesaddict5 @professorkingslay @maurine07 @aka-calliope @bluebellot @whimsicallywayward15 @blossomanarchy @takemyopenheart @jamespotterthefirst @fanmantrashcan @whatchique @ao719 @x-kyne-x @colourmeshy @paulfwesley @the-pale-goddess @writinghereandthere @ramseyandrys @perriewinklenerdie @aworldoffandoms @thatcatlady0716 @drakewalker04 @canknot @hatescapsicum @lapisreviewsstuff @senseofduties @badchoicesposts @ethandaddyramseyx @chasingrobbie @zodiacsign1 @choices-lurker @my-heart-beats-for-ya @adrian-motherfucking-raines @riverrune @edith-eggs1 @thatysn @bellcat2010 @blainehellyes @cecilecontrera @junehiratas @choices-love-affair @openheart12 @caseyvalentineramsey @desmaranj @nazario-sayeed @aestheticartsx @ruinedbypixels @nooruleman @rookie-ramsey @uneravine @choicest @schnitzelbutterfingers @missmiimiie @stateofgracious @mooons-isabelle @doilooklikeiknow

[lepusrufus]

To bargain for immortality pt.5

Another few good weeks passed before they heard from their so-called goddess, gone who knows where. Not that anyone would ever question her absences, even the lords knew better than to stick their noses in her business.

When Nicole found herself once again following Emma through blue-lit underground corridors, there was an odd determination in her strides. She wanted to figure out what the hell was going on with her and Miranda, if nothing else, was a scientist who above all loved solving an equation. And what else could her situation be described as if not an intricate equation with a bit fat X as her missing factor.

She was right in thinking that Miranda would find her issue of interest, as when she finally brought it up the woman furrowed her brows and turned to face her, a clipboard grabbed from a nearby table.

“And there was nobody else?”

“No. Just me, Cassandra, the pharmacist and some guy that came for his medicine,” Nicole answered with a barely contained huff.

“What for?” Miranda tapped her pen against the paper in anticipation, a clear sign that she may be onto something and was only putting together some puzzle pieces that nobody but her could see.

Nicole had to dig through her memories for a moment. “An infection. At least that’s what the pharmacist mentioned.”

Miranda hummed and scribbled something else. There was no point in trying to decipher what exactly, the woman had the handwriting of two drunk doctors put together. How very fitting for her.

Without another word, she was on her feet, unbuttoned lab coat flowing after her the same way her black robes did when in goddess mode. “Follow me. I want to test something.”

And what else was she supposed to do really?

Quick steps took them down the hallways, black stone walls surrounding them and taking on an odd shine under the unnatural neon lights above. At least Nicole didn’t have to jog for once, Miranda not being that much taller than her.

The journey was short and they reached their destination quickly, which seemed to be a door not unlike the one belonging to the lab they had just vacated, except this one had the number 24 engraved on a small plaque on it. Miranda pushed it open to reveal a small hospital looking room, four beds divided by grey curtains but only one seemed to be occupied, a sleeping woman hooked to a heart monitor whose rhythmic beeping caused some memories to resurface in Nicole's mind.

Those memories however were quickly pushed down by a sudden burst of nausea at the decaying smell that seemed to forcefully crawl its way down her throat. Nicole all but slapped a hand to her face and turned around in a pathetic attempt to block out the overwhelming sensation. Some blood also started to trickle down her face and past trembling fingers, although thankfully not an ungodly amount like before.

By some mercy of well… herself, Miranda didn't stop her when she decided to do a wobbly turn and hastily exit the room. She followed Nicole out and observed as she slumped against a wall, pulling a tissue from a pocket to wipe at her face.

"What… the fuck," Nicole breathed out.

"Was that the same as before?" Miranda's eyes were full of a weird kind of glee that could only belong to a mad scientist. Not that that would be an inaccurate description for the woman.

Nicole only nodded, trying to get her face on a more presentable level before speaking again. "Is she-..."

Miranda scoffed. "Are you deaf? I can assure you the woman is quite alive," she responded with an eye roll.

The soft beeping monitoring the heartbeat could be heard faintly from behind the closed door, so her words had to hold some truth to them. Though her intentions were still shrouded in mystery.

"Then why the hell does she smell like that?"

"She doesn't," came the nonchalant reply and it had Nicole almost seething.

Is your ego stuffed up your nose, is what she wished she could snap and say, but she knew better.

If Miranda noticed the daggers in her eyes, she paid them no mind. Instead she noted something down on the paper precariously attached to the clipboard she got a hold of before exiting the lab they had been in previously. When she finished, she simply motioned for Nicole to follow and continued further down the hallway, without a second glance.

She only stopped once to exchange a few words with an unfamiliar assistant on the whereabouts of certain patients. Patiens. Why would Miranda keep any sort of patients down there?

Before she had time to dwell on it, Miranda pushed another door open, this time leading to another corridor dimly lit by strategically placed torches. Apparently nobody bothered to get electricity to this particular part of the underground maze of tunnels, the warm light so pleasant on the eyes as opposed to the harsh neons of the previous area. The tunnel was also long, way too long for it to be an often used path, especially given how awfully humid the air was becoming. Nicole tried to take a mental note of where they were heading, squinting her eyes in an effort to imagine what was above them, but with how convoluted the tunnels down there were, it was fruitless.

After maybe fifteen minutes of walking, awkward silence -at least awkward on her part, Miranda didn't seem to care- only broken by the echo of steps and the soft sounds of crackling fire from the torches, the tunnel ended in what looked to be a far too modern stairwell. Nicole had to pause for a second, looking at the unnerving contrast where dark ancient stone gave way suddenly to gray concrete and steel, going up in sharp angles and blocking the view to whatever laid above. The overall architecture did look vaguely familiar though, but Miranda didn't seem to have the patience for sightseeing as she quickly started walking up the stairs.

At the top of the staircase stood a steel door that was quickly unlocked to finally reveal a place that Nicole recognized. She blinked rapidly in surprise, all but freezing in the doorway at the sight of the hospital corridor she had walked down on so many times before, complete with a handful of nurses discussing in a corner. She shook her head and slowly followed the woman, not wanting to remain behind. It didn't take long before they came across the one person Miranda was apparently searching for.

"M- Mother Miranda," Salvatore's voice came in an oddly high pitch, at least for him, when he almost crashed with her in his hurry to get somewhere.

"Moreau," Miranda greeted with a nod and unreadable expression. "I need the documents on each of your patients and where they're staying." Straight to business apparently.

He simply nodded and moved his attention to one of the nurses standing nearby, instructing him to finish whatever task he was supposed to before their arrival. The man moved rigidly, painfully aware of Miranda's presence. Then, Moreau led them to his office, starting to pull out a consistent number of files from a large bookcase.

His office was, unsurprisingly, a mess aside from the one place he held the documents keeping track of all his current patients, complete with a few books and office supplies haphazardly placed on the desk. A few spare white coats were hanging just by the door, together with a long and worn leather jacket that he often times wore when outside the building. A familiar string of bones was also peeking from one of its pockets, nowadays worn as a necklace since, after the effects of his mutation were lessened, he found the crown quite unsightly.

"Are you coming by anytime soon," his voice came from behind, snapping her out of her exploration. "We could use a hand sometimes."

Nicole turned to give him a polite smile. "I may, but I have some things to get out of the way for now."

A glance in Miranda's direction revealed the woman hunched over the documents on the desk, writing down a list with the aid of whatever she was reading. They could do some small talk for the time being.

"How have you been," Nicole asked, turning to him again.

She and Salvatore were on quite friendly terms ever since she started occasionally helping out in the hospital that he was in charge of. Not that they had much time to ever hang out, but the few times they did, it's always been a pleasant interaction among colleagues.

"Some days are better than others," he responded with half a shrug.

Judging by the deep purplish circles under his eyes, today wasn't particularly stellar. He was slightly hunched, whether it was out of habit from a time when sitting straight was quite impossible or from tiredness, she couldn't tell.

"Any news from the castle?" He asked with a chuckle. He was rarely welcomed in Alcina's home so the curiosity wasn't unwarranted.

Nicole shrugged. "Same old same old. Bleeding out prisoners, stopping Daniela from breaking vases and all that boring pseudo nobility stuff."

He let out a quiet laugh. "Nobility? Should I start calling you my lady?"

Nicole snorthed, giving his shoulder a small shove that didn't make him move in the slightest.

Their joking banter was interrupted by Miranda all but shoving her way in between them and out the door, calling for her to follow. With a small wave, Nicole was quickly after her, falling in step just slightly behind the other woman. Though it was a small building after all, so it didn't take long to reach the first door on Miranda's list.

"I want you to tell me exactly what you feel," she flatly told Nicole while pushing the door open.

She frowned, eyes slightly narrowed in confusion and glued to Miranda's back as she stepped inside the small room after the woman.

Any incredulous question died on her tongue when she seemed to be yanked back in time, to the yearly family trips her father insisted they all go on. It was to a relative, or family friend, Nicole couldn't quite recall, who owned an old cabin near a lake. Problem was, the lake was always murky and full of algae, the water gaining an unpleasant scent under the August sun. She and Alex never tried swimming.

"Well?" Mirada raised an eyebrow, impatient.

Nicole scrunched up her nose, both wanting and desperately trying not to take a deeper breath. "Pond water? The kind of water that's stagnant and muddy in summer, full of dead fish and weeds."

She tried not to fidget, her mind running a thousand miles an hour. The so-called goddess seeming completely uninterested in shedding light on what the hell they were doing was not of much help either. A frustrated sigh threatened to escape when another person spoke up.

"Doctor?" A meek voice came from the only bed in the room, from a young woman who seemed asleep when they had walked in. She looked between the two of them confused and with squinted eyes.

Miranda simply raised a hand, not even sparing the girl a glance. "Pay us no mind, we're only here to check on something. We'll be on our way in a moment."

Nicole couldn't help the confused look she threw the girl's way. Was she not recognizing the woman this whole town worshipped? An amused snort almost escaped her but she knew better. Besides, who could really blame her? Mirada was wearing an oversized lab coat, blonde hair held back in a ponytail and there was no trace of the makeup that usually accompanied her ceremonial robes and mask.

Not that Nicole had time to appreciate the odd humanity of Miranda's outfit, as the woman turned on her heels and exited the room as soon as she was done writing. She was starting to grow annoyed with the uncooperative and know-it-all attitude, but decided against voicing any opinions and settled for following along to the next door.

It kept on being a rinse and repeat of the first room, only variables being the patients inside and her answers. Sometimes the change wasn't too obvious, maybe just a more metallic undertone or a new faint smell latching onto her senses, like the sickly sweet aroma of honey. A handful of times though she had to all but slap a hand over her face to not be overwhelmed by the enveloping stench. One room in particular made her almost stumbled backwards and out the door, when a strong metallic smell contrasting the accompanying one of decomposition hit her like a slap in the face. The man inside, who was evidently not doing particularly well, didn't seem appreciative of the apparently crazy woman coming in and rudely interrupting his rest.

Nicole didn't look forward to lingering around by that point, but there was one more room to check.

They pushed open the door, and the familiar stinging scent of decay immediately overtook her senses, seeming to latch on to the very inside of her throat. A small rivulet of blood also started dripping down her face, and Nicole quickly pulled out a paper tissue from her pants pocket to press against her nostrils. It was both to stop the bleeding and to shield her senses from the smell.

Once outside, Nicole was trying to catch her breath while Miranda was simply writing something down. Another set of steps approached them, who turned out to be Moreau coming to check on their findings. Upon being given the clipboard to read -he could actually decipher her chicken scratch, really?- he let out a curious hum.

"I need to go over John Abbott's file and compare them," Miranda started, clicking her pen and putting it back into her pocket. "I'll send an assistant after it later." Then she looked her way and waved a hand dismissively. "You're free to go, I'll send Emma after you when you're needed."

Nicole blinked, dumbfounded, her voice coming out harsher than she probably should've allowed it to be. "That's all? What did you find?"

The exasperated edge in her voice did not go unnoticed nor was it appreciated. Miranda rolled her eyes slightly and gave her an answer. "You can distinguish illnesses by smell. We'll do a more comprehensive test and list, but for now we have enough to say that's how the Mold manifested with you," Miranda explained, half turned away and ready to leave.

And she did turn to leave as soon as she was finished. With a nod towards Salvatore, she made her way back down the hospital corridor and presumably towards the passageway that led back to her lab.

Nicole wasn't particularly keen on going down there again if she could help it, so she instead stuck by Salvatore's side as they walked back to his office.

That day wasn't the first time Nicole had entered that room, so the fact that it also served as some kind of archive did not go past her. The office itself was decently sized, and even had a storage room attached to it with the sole purpose of keeping old files that may be important but Miranda didn't need at hand. Although, in all honesty, Salvatore wasn't particularly skilled in keeping everything organized. That's what my secretary is for, he would say, ignoring the fact that Miranda would gut anyone who touched those documents if they weren't part of the small group of people she deemed worthy. Therefore, the files were a mess, the only saving grace being that he at least had the foresight of organizing them by decade.

With a sigh, he started looking through the binders all but stuffed on one of the many shelves. Nicole sat down at his desk, occupying herself with a crayon that she started twisting around her fingers absent mindedly. There was some semblance of relief in finally figuring out what had so cruelly changed in her body, and what an ironic twist of fate said change was. To have spent years pouring over books learning about the illnesses that now were recognizable by something as simple as an acidic smell of blood. On the other hand though, the knowledge that Miranda had a tendency to find some kind of use for all her experiments left a sensation of dread slowly making its way into the deepest crannies of her chest, where a certain parasite had burrowed and made a nest for itself.

"Mind if I call the castle, I don't really feel like walking all the way back," she asked, eyes settling on the phone pushed to the side by a couple books and scattered pens.

"Sure," he responded without moving from where he was pulling out papers, only to shove them back inside their folders when they weren't the correct ones.

Her hands hovered over the keys for a moment. She wasn't about to call Alcina's personal phone to ask for a ride, heavens no. The phone in Carolina's study, where the Constable would spend her time when not in the stables, would be the best choice if only she could remember the number from memory. Nicole decided that the one in the main hall was the best next thing, where one of the guards at the entrance would probably hear the ringing and answer.

She dialed the number and listened to the typical ringing sound once, twice, until she thought nobody was actually around, but at last, a voice came from the other end.

"Alo?"

Nicole took a moment to recognize the voice as Dalia's, the head chambermaid.

"Hey, it's Nicole," she started toying with the pencil again. "I'm at the hospital, can you send Carolina with a horse to pick me up?" She sensed the slight hesitation on the other woman's side and thought to clarify. "I'm not injured, just with Moreau."

She heard a slight exhale from the other end of the line and had to entertain the thought of whether the woman was relieved due to genuine concern for her wellbeing, or she was well aware of how irritable her wife could be. Her being injured definitely made its way on the list of things that would bring out the anger and cruelty carefully crafted over almost a century.

Before hanging up the phone, she sighed and thought better of her request. "Actually, tell Cassandra to come."

She could almost feel the slight grimace from Dalia at being asked to go talk to the most sadist of the sisters, and with a request no less. Oh well, there's to hoping that Cassandra wouldn't be too peeved at said request coming from her wife.

She hung up after hearing an of course, my lady.

With a way to get back home without having to do the trek on foot assured, she leaned back in the chair, watching Salvatore continue on his search. He was standing with his hands on his hips, eyebrows pulled into a frown that slightly wrinkled the already rough skin of his forehead. He looked almost as if he resorted to glaring at the piles of papers, hoping that enough intimidation would scare the right file into jumping into his hands.

It almost made Nicole snort, were it not for the curiosity that both acted as a distraction and pleaded to get some more answers. "So, who's this… Jack Abbott?"

"John Abbott," he corrected without tearing his eyes from the shelf in front of him. He grimaced then. "He was one of Mother Miranda's earlier experiments, and had a very similar mutation to yours."

At that Nicole's eyebrows shot up past the low line of her fringe, interest successfully piqued. She turned in her seat to fully face him, one arm thrown over the back of the chair. When he didn't continue talking, instead pulling out one of the last binders on the shelf labeled 1930's, she impatiently prodded for more information. "And?"

Moreau pulled a face, probably wondering if he was even supposed to talk about it. It didn't take long for him to let out a defeated sigh, the demand to play dumb were Miranda to ever ask about this going unspoken, but more than understood. "Same thing as you really. He could tell what illness someone had by a specific smell, down to the nasty nose bleeds whenever it got too much," he started, noticing a few drops of blood that had dried on her upper lip.

He turned back to pulling out the very last binder dedicated to that decade and relaxed his posture ever so slightly when he saw JOHN ABBOTT written in big letters and black ink on one file. Another frown tugged his cracked lips downward, the information written in such a clinical way only mudding the memory of the frail man he had briefly met so many decades ago. "His body took well to the Cadou until… well ,until it didn't. I don't know what went wrong, but his body just rejected it at one point and he died being slowly consumed by the infection."

At that Nicole's face fell, dread now overtaking her usual curiosity. He must've noticed, for his next words came the slightest bit rushed and with a strained kind of reassurance that wasn't convincing to either of them.

"It may very well not be connected."

Nicole almost scoffed, not at him but at the situation at hand. The hand holding the pencil was tense and, had she not been as weak as she was, the wood would've probably cracked by then. "Did you know him?"

With a slight shake of his head, he answered, not a negation but more a gesture of pity. "Barely. I was brought here only after he started," he narrowed his eyes at a wall somewhere behind Nicole trying to find the right word. He didn't. "...deteriorating."

That was about as much as her brain wanted to know at the moment, letting a heavy silence fill the space for endlessly too long. She was caught in her own thoughts that started to twist and turn into countless what ifs. Thoughts that crashed to a halt when a nurse knocked on the half open door to announce her presence.

"Lady Cassandra is waiting outside," she told Nicole, expression pulled in a poker face that could only belong to someone who had to deal with her wife and tried to seem unbothered. Tried and failed.

Nicole sprung to her feet, circling the desk and about to make her exit when he called out. "Take care of yourself," Moreau told her, looking up from the papers he was reading.

Her lips turned slightly upwards into a smile. "You too." And then she left, rapid pace taking her through off-white hallways and slight smells that she was now painfully aware of.

Stepping outside was a breath of fresh air in more ways than one, the orange hue of the setting sun welcoming her after the hours passed under the harsh lab lights. How ironic was her hatred for the damned neon lights, when not too long ago she would've gladly spent her life under their bluish glow.

Even better than the warm sun on her skin, was the sight of Cassandra, dressed in her usual riding attire and absent mindedly scratching the furry muzzle of one of the castle's Clydesdale horses. A big beast of a horse, black and white with its feathery legs that, Nicole realized with an eye roll, she wouldn't dream of getting on without help.

Her pace quickened until she found herself embraced by a pair of strong arms, the stable smell mixed with Cassandra's cologne filling her senses with something finally pleasant. She didn't let go until she felt a gentle kiss placed on top of her auburn hair.

"Darling," Cassandra greeted her once she pulled back, gloved hand coming to rest on a pale cheek. "How are you?"

Nicole sighed and pushed into the touch, the kind of tiredness that could only be felt after a day spent bending over backwards to every one of Miranda's whims settling into her bones. "Ready to go back home."

Cassandra simply nodded once and moved her hands on her hips, getting a good enough grip before picking Nicole up to where her foot could reach the stirrup so she could pull herself up. Her wife decided that climbing in the saddle was below her at the moment, choosing instead to turn into a swarm, only to retake her human form a mere second later, on the horse's back, her front comfortably against Nicole's back. With a few taps of her boot against the stirrup still occupied by Nicole's foot in a silent demand to let her guide the horse, she took a hold of the reins and they finally started moving down the stone paved road.

There was no complaint on Nicole's part, taking it as a good opportunity to sit back and enjoy the ride, pressed to her wife's chest.

A few eternally long minutes were spent absentmindedly scratching the horse's muscular neck, where short black fur met the mane held in a beautifully done french braid, that only their Constable could pull so seamlessly. A few long minutes spent mulling over what she had found out, thoughts twisting cruelly with every worst case scenario her mind could conjure. Had she made a mistake? Was the infection a mistake to begin with? How cruel could fate be sometimes. Back in New York she had come to terms with a meaningless life, the only truly important thing she had amounted to at that point being choosing a career path to spite her father. But now, after finding a place to call home where she ached to stay to the point of seeking eternity for it, the very thing that could allow her to remain there forever could also take her life away, miserably so.

"What's wrong?"

Cassandra's voice snapped her back to reality, so much so that she even shook her head a couple times to chase away the lingering thoughts. She gave an inquisitive hum in an attempt to play dumb. The attempt was met with an incredulous eye roll.

"You're quiet," she simply responded.

"I'd think spending decades with Daniela would make you appreciate quiet people," Nicole jokingly threw back.

"Not you," came the reply, one hand leaving the reins and coming to rest on her thigh. "I love hearing you talk, even when you're blabbering about proper medical technique."

At that Nicole let out a light gasp, turning around with mild offence written in her eyes. She couldn't find anything to retaliate with for once, setting instead for giving her wife a slight shove with her elbow, that only elicited a laugh.

She shook her head and let out a sigh. "We did figure out what's with the damned nosebleeds." At a curious hum and Cassandra's chin coming to rest on top of her head, she went on. "Apparently I can distinguish illnesses by smell. Now that would've been useful during med school," she finished with a bitter laugh.

Her wife responded with a snort. "If I were Daniela, I'd say you're joking to hide how you really feel." She shrugged. "However I'm not her, and I'm assuming you'll simply tell me without the need of an impromptu psychoanalysis," she said almost smugly, the hand that was until then lazily placed on her leg finding its place around her waist.

The times when Nicole wished to curse her wife's apparently impeccable observation skills were rare, but this was one such occasion.

She almost let out a groan, pushing further back into Cassandra's form. "There was this other man, John Abbott, with the same mutation. Except his body rejected the Cadou and he died slowly and painfully," she explained, her voice quieting halfway through, but almost flinched when the arm around her went stiff with an almost vice-like grip. The realization of how long Cassandra has really been in the Village for slowly crept its way from Nicole's memory, having been filed away and almost forgotten in a metaphorical drawer of obvious things that however were rarely brought up. "Did you know him-"

"You won't end up like that sorry bastard."

The conviction behind that one simple sentence almost had Nicole letting out another short bitter laugh. Not out of bemusement of course. Irony perhaps, at how determined her wife was to double down on cheating death, not only for herself but her too. Even when death could be brought by the very thing keeping them alive.

"Not much we could do about that," she said in a small voice, one hand toying with the black fabric of Cassandra's sleeve.

"Don't think for one moment that I'm joking," she started, an edge of a warning behind her tone. Her hand came to rest more gently on the bottom of Nicole's sternum, where the skin had healed in a dark scar that seemed to send jagged cracks all the way to her stomach. "I'll pull the wretched little thing out of your chest myself if I have to."

At that Nicole actually let out a laugh. "Way to go with something morbidly romantic."

Cassandra chuckled close to her ear, bending down slightly to leave a peck where her neck and shoulder met. "You're not going to die. I won't allow it."

A silent possessiveness accompanied her words. An implication that she now belonged there, in her arms, and frivolous things such as death had no place to come between them. She should flinch at such implications, were it not for the fact that it was mutual and Cassandra knew better than to recklessly throw herself on death's path, knowing well that soon her wife would follow in her steps.

The soft kiss was returned when Nicole bent back again, until the angle between their bodies allowed for their lips to meet tenderly, in a way that anyone would believe was so utterly uncharacteristic to the both of them, ruthless in their own ways but soft like velvet running on smooth skin with each other.

They rode in comfortable silence up until the gates to the stable, where they dismounted and handed the reins to one of the servants waiting there. The sun had set by then, purple and dark blues reigning the skies as they entered the castle through one of the secondary doors.

She parted ways with her wife, saying that she would soon join the rest of their family as she headed up the stairs. A change of clothes was due. That and a request to their seamstress.

Oh her way back down, she stopped by the open door to the woman’s studio, busy with readjusting some garments for one of the ladies. A curt knock on the wooden frame of the entrance got her attention and had her pulling a face upon realizing that she had probably lost count of whatever she was mentally keeping track of. Nonetheless, she offered a polite smile when greeting Nicole.

“My lady, what can I do for you?”

“I need a facemask,” Nicole started.

The woman��s eyebrows pulled in a confused frown. “I thought a new batch of surgical masks just arrived the other day.”

Nicole raised a hand when she went to check on the shipments list. “I meant something I can wear for longer and outside the lab, surgical masks have a tendency to clash with an elegant gown, you know,” she explained with a chuckle. “Preferably that can filter out any smells?”

“Oh. Of course, I’ll just need to take your measures to make sure it’s fitted for you.”

“I’ll come by tomorrow,” she proposed and, after the seamstress gave her an hour, she continued on her way down the hallway to where the rest of the Dimitrescus were gathered.

Being home brought some peace of mind, thoughts of dying and being forcefully ripped away from her life momentarily placated in favor of enjoying a few hours by the fireplace with her family. Leaning against Cassandra as she draped an arm around her shoulders and listening to Daniela and Bela have a hilariously heated debate over the latest book they've read felt downright blissful in its mundane aspect.

Although no matter what, the little parasite that now called the inside of her chest its home, was quietly gnawing at her worried mind.

[polaroid15]

Guy in the Chair

Summary: Having a superhero for a best friend isn’t easy. But with the help of Mr. Stark, Ned things he might just be able to swing it.

Or, 5 times Ned was there for Peter and 1 time they were there for each other.

Read on Ao3 here.

-----

Ned hates funerals.

But mostly he hates seeing Peter in so much pain.

He sits beside his friend now, silent and relieved to be hearing him breathe evenly. The service for Ben had ended less than an hour ago. Overwhelmed, Peter had let Ned guide him away from the grave. They’re close enough to see May kneeling beside the freshly upturned dirt, her head in her hands, but far enough away that Peter no longer hyperventilates.

The cement bench they sit on is freezing. Snow comes up to their ankles. Both are shivering but too numb to move.

“Peter?”

Nothing.

Expecting it, Ned looks to his friend. Peter is curled in on himself, eyes open with frozen tear tracks running all the way down to his chin. He doesn’t give off any external cues that he’s heard Ned’s prompt, his sight unseeing.

“Peter?” he tries again, and when it still doesn’t elicit a response, he reaches out cold fingers to rest on Peter’s arm. Lightly, carefully, like he’s touching something fragile. “Hey man. You with me?”

Eyebrows creasing, Ned watches as a glimmer of coherence returns to Peter’s eyes. And with it, pain. Sharp and raw. Peter sucks in a long breath that rattles in his chest- like it’s the first real breath he’s taken in hours. It blows out in a puff of air that obscures the grave ahead of them.

“Peter.”

With some confusion, Peter swivels his head. He reaches a trembling hand to his face and uses his fingertips to feel the ice on his skin. “N-Ned?” he stammers. “I- when did we... I don’t remember coming over here.”

“It’s okay man. We came after the service.”

“May?”

“Over there. She’s okay.”

Breathing deep again, Peter’s eyes shine with new moisture. He buries his head deep into his elbow and leaves it there, his knuckles white where they clutch at his coat. “Sorry,” he murmurs. “God, I’m going crazy.”

Ned’s stomach hollows out. “Don’t be sorry.”

“I am,” Peter sniffs. “It’s cold.”

“It’s not that cold.”

Peter lifts his head and offers Ned a weak smile, though it falls fast. He hopes it isn’t permanent. “I just- I can’t believe he’s really gone.”

Ned bites his lip. He hadn’t known Peter when his parents had died, but he knows well enough from their sleepovers that he wakes up in cold sweats. He also knows that Peter has a tendency to blame himself for things that aren’t his fault, that he walks as if the world is on his shoulders.

And Peter had been there. In the alley. He had tried to keep Ben alive as he bled out.

And it didn't work. God, why couldn’t it have worked?

“Me either.”

Peter chokes on his next breath. Holds it. “What- what are we going to do without him?”

“Peter-”

“May can’t…I can’t-” Peter breaks off, gasping. “He can’t be gone.”

Words are impossible. Ned reaches deep within himself and whispers, “I’m sorry Peter. I’m so sorry.”

Peter’s lip wobbles. His eyes fill until there’s nowhere for the tears to go but out. At the same time they reach for each other, and Ned holds onto Peter as if it’s his sole purpose in this life. “It’s my fault Ned,” Peter sobs into his shoulder. “I couldn’t save him. It was me. He’s d-dead because of me.”

“That’s not true and you know it.”

“We had a fight,” Peter continues, delirious in his grief. “We had a fight and he died and I should’ve been able to save him.”

“It’s not your fault, man. What happened to Ben was terrible, but it wasn’t your fault, okay? He wouldn’t have wanted you to blame yourself. You know that.”

Peter tries to speak but is crying too hard for Ned to make out the words. So instead he pats Peter’s back and hugs him as hard as he can. He holds on. He whispers ‘he loved you’ and ‘it’s not your fault’ in between Peter’s sobs. He’s not sure how long it goes on for. He feels like a skipping record, his condolences an endless loop.

Eventually, Peter’s head lolls against Ned’s cheek. He stops crying. Stops everything. “I’m sorry,” he says. Then, more sure, “you’re a good friend, Ned. Thanks- thanks for being here with me. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“Always,” Ned says. It’s a promise, a vow. “No matter what.”

And with every nerve in his body, he means it.

------

Peter is Spider-Man.

In a way, Ned still feels the aftershocks of the surprise. It hits him over and over again whenever he sees Peter with a limp or a bruise, or a cut that he can tell from it’s scar Peter had stitched himself.

But it’s nothing in comparison to Homecoming.

What’s supposed to be a fun night turns into a full out adrenaline high with life or death stakes. Instead of dancing, he fires Peter’s web shooters and works tirelessly in the computer lab. Being the guy in the chair.

And then there’s silence. An awful, consuming silence.

Ned expects Peter to come back to the party, and when he doesn’t, he tries calling. All thirteen calls go straight to voicemail.

He tries again now.

“Hey, it’s Peter. I promise I’m not ignoring you. Uh, leave a message. Thanks.”

Failing to ignore his worry, Ned drags his aching feet home. His mom is working a late shift at the hospital so he unlocks the door to his apartment and flicks on the lights, rubbing at his face in exhaustion.

He barely makes it two steps before he hears it.

A thud, like something heavy hitting hardwood.

Ned grabs the item closest to him, an umbrella propped up in the corner by the door and walks with caution towards his bedroom where the noise came from. Not for the first time that night, his heart beats viciously in his chest. Did Liz’s dad figure out he was helping Peter? Did the guy from the bus lot follow him home?

“Hello?” he calls, wincing when his voice shakes. He holds the umbrella a little tighter, the thin metal sticks digging into his palm. “Who- who’s there?”

When there’s no answer he pauses outside his door and cranes for clues. Hearing nothing, he braces himself before kicking open the door. The first thing he sees is his open window, and then-

“Oh my God! Peter!”

His friend is slumped under the glass, pale and covered in sweat and blood. Though his eyes are half lidded, he smiles at Ned when he sees him. “Why’re you holding an umbrella?” he slurs.

Ned dips his head to look at the makeshift weapon before tossing it to the side. His hands are shaking horribly. “I thought- I thought someone broke in!”

“Well technically,” Peter coughs, wincing, “I did break in.”

“It’s different,” Ned says, his legs like jelly as he stumbles forward. He kneels beside Peter and holds his hands out gingerly, sure whatever part of Peter he touches will shatter. “What the hell happened to you?”

Peter frowns. There’s too much blood. “I crashed Mr. Stark’s plane,” he says.

“What?”

“Liz’s dad was trying to steal it. I stopped him though.”

“You’re hurt.”

“I get hurt all the time.”

“Not like this,” Ned argues, and Peter���s eyes darken.

“I’m okay,” he whispers.

Grinding his nails into his knees, Ned shakes his head. Peter hasn’t moved since he found him, his arms curled tightly around his chest. “Why’d you come here?”

Gaping, Peter pales further. “Oh. I didn’t... I’m sorry-”

“No,” Ned says quickly. “Not like that. I mean, isn’t Mr. Stark supposed to help you with stuff like this?”

Peter closes his eyes, his face shadowed. “Mr. Stark doesn’t want to see me anymore. He ended things, remember?”

“But if he knew you were hurt-”

“Ned.”

“You’re bleeding really bad. I don’t know how to help you.”

Peter smiles again, but it’s sad. Broken, like the day of Ben’s funeral. It makes Ned feel sick. “Can I use your shower?”

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?”

“Definitely. I’m covered in sand and ash and concrete-” Peter shudders, eyes becoming distant for a moment. “Please?”

“Right. Of course, man. Whatever you need.”

“Thanks.”

Peter tries to stand but needs Ned’s help in the end. They limp to the bathroom together and Ned helps Peter pull the top half of his suit off because Peter can’t lift his arms above his head. Peter is quiet during the process, but Ned doesn’t miss the way he sways and bites his lip.

When the suit is finally stripped away, Ned is sure he’ll have nightmares of for the rest of his life. Impossibly dark bruising covers nearly every inch of his friend’s skin, puncture marks still leaking blood and surrounded by countless smaller cuts and scrapes. He notices that Peter doesn’t look in the mirror. He doesn’t even look down, his hands shaking as he stares in determination at the opposite wall.

It’s only now that Ned truly understands the weight of what Peter is taking on. That having superpowers comes with a cost.

I just wanted to be like you, Peter had told Mr. Stark.

And I want you to be safe, thinks Ned, aching.

“Peter,” he whispers. He feels strangely detached from his body, as if he’s viewing the massacre through someone else’s eyes. “This- this is really bad. Like, hospital bad.”

Peter doesn’t argue, which Ned knows is a bad sign. Instead, his eyes glisten as if he’s about to cry. “I heal fast.”

“But-”

“I’m going to shower now.”

“Peter.”

“Ned please. I know you mean well, but- but I can’t think about it right now, okay? I just need to shower and then I’ll be okay.”

Ned stills. Swallows. Then, with great reluctance, he nods. “Okay.”

Looking weak with relief, Peter gives him a watery smile. When he speaks, his voice cracks. “Thanks man. I- I really owe you one.”

“It’s nothing. Guy in the chair, remember?”

“Thanks Ned.”

After their handshake, Ned leaves. It takes a minute of standing by the bathroom door and breathing intently through his nose to get his heart to calm. When it does, his pocket vibrates. He pulls out his phone, expecting it to be his mom.

Instead, it’s an unknown number.

With a sinking feeling in his stomach, Ned answers, making sure to move away from the bathroom. “Hello?”

There’s staticy silence. Then, heavy breathing. “Is this Peter’s friend?”

“Who’s this?”

“I’ll take that as a yes. This is Happy Hogan. You called me earlier.”

An unexpected surge of anger makes his ears hot. Hand tightening around the phone, Ned doesn’t try to keep the annoyance from his voice. “What do you want?”

Happy sighs. “Peter. Have you seen him?”

“Yes.”

“When?”

“Now. He’s at my apartment.”

More silence. Ned paces.

“How is he?” Happy asks finally.

“Why do you care?” Ned snaps. His heart is beating fast again. He can hear it in the base of his eardrums. “I tried to warn you earlier and you hung up on me.”

“Kid, listen-”

“He’s not okay,” Ned interrupts. “He’s hurt really bad. And he wouldn’t be if you had just listened.”

Ned expects deflection, but Happy’s words surprise him with their concern. “Wait. Peter’s hurt?”

It leaches his anger. “Yeah.”

“Can I talk to him?”

Ned opens his mouth to respond but pauses at the sound of a muffled conversation on the other end of the line. There’s a short struggle and then a new voice fills his ears. One that he’s more than familiar with.

“Ted, right?” Tony Stark asks. “Put Peter on the phone. Pronto. ASAP.”

“I- I-”

“He’s with you, isn’t he?” the man urges.

“I- yes.”

“Well then?”

Ned, despite how freaking cool it is to be talking to Iron Man, can’t help but feel a streak of protectiveness for his friend. “He didn’t call you for a reason.”

Tony is quiet, which Ned doesn’t expect. He plows on. “He thinks you don’t care. And maybe you don’t. But you can’t just choose when you want to help him. He’s here and he’s hurt, and I’m just about the least qualified person to be helping him. There’s blood on my floor and my mom is going to freak out-”

“Take a breath kid,” Tony interjects, his voice pinched. “You’re right. I’m sorry. Just let me talk to him.”

“He’s in the shower.”

“We’ll come pick him up, then. What’s your address?”

Ned closes his eyes, feeling two seconds away from a breakdown. He should be excited, but instead he just feels hollow. How did this become my life?

He rattles off his address and hangs up before Tony can respond. Then he sits on his floor beside Peter’s blood and cries silently into his hands.

-------

Ned tries to talk to Peter about Homecoming, but his friend just defects. Ned tries not to let it bother him.

But it does.

Physically, Peter recovers quickly. The ugly cuts and bruises disappear after the weekend, but the weariness that accompanies them never really leaves. The dark circles under Peter’s eyes get worse everyday and it’s harder to get a genuine smile out of his friend.

It all comes to a head on Wednesday.

They’re in the hall grabbing textbooks from their lockers between classes. Peter has been especially quiet today and Ned has done his best not to say anything about it. He’s reaching for his physics binder when it happens.

A loud crash, the sound of metal hitting the floor. Heart jumping, Ned spins to see a table flipped on its side beside a group of snickering kids. He exhales, shaking his head. “Man, that scared me.” He turns to Peter to laugh it off and freezes, insides turning to ice.

“Peter?”

His friend has lost all the color in his face, his eyes wide, unblinking, and staring out at nothing. When he doesn’t respond Ned takes a step forward to nudge his arm and Peter flinches back as if burned, hitting one of their classmates who scowls and pushes him off.

Peter barely manages to catch himself, his chest heaving like he’s just finished running a marathon. More careful this time, Ned grabs Peter’s elbow and steers him away from the hall and towards the bathroom. When they get there Peter detaches himself from Ned’s grip and stumbles until he hits the wall, sliding down to curl into a ball on the dirty tile. Now that it’s quieter, Ned can hear just how strained his breathing is.

“Peter?” he asks softly, squatting down to his level. “You’re scaring me man. What’s going on?”

Peter looks up at him helplessly, clutching at his chest as he pales further. “S-sorry. Just- ah. Gimme a minute.”

Ned opens his mouth to argue but closes it decidedly. The door to the bathroom swings open behind them and Ned shoos the freshman who appears away with his hands.

Peter’s upbeat ringtone cuts through the tension. Obviously not coordinated enough to answer, Ned helps Peter pull it out of his pocket and stills at the contact.

“It’s Mr. Stark,” Ned says in awe. “What- what do I do?”

“Don’ answer it-”

But his thumb is already on the green. He gives Peter a panicked look of apology before yanking the device up to his ear. “Hello?”

“Ted? Why do you have Peter’s phone?”

“It’s Ned. And he- he can’t really talk right now.”

Tony curses. “Is he with you? His watch sent me a spike in his vitals. Don’t tell me he’s actively bleeding out.”

Peter must hear what he’s saying because he groans, his breathing becoming increasingly laboured. He sticks his head between his knees and digs his knuckles into the tile until tiny cracks appear under the pressure.

“He’s not bleeding out,” Ned assures. “He’s- well, I don’t really know what’s happening. He said he can’t breathe.”

“Damn it. Damn it. Okay. He’s having a panic attack. Put me on speaker.”

“But-”

“Now, Ned!”

Gulping, Ned obliges. He holds out the phone between himself and Peter like some sort of offering and feels some distant part of him relax as Tony takes control.

“Pete?” Tony asks, his voice sharp and clear. “Focus on my voice kiddo. Alright? Imagine that I’m there with you.”

“Mr. St-Stark-’

“Shh, kiddo. It’s okay. I’m going to help you breathe. I need you to tell me five things you can see. Can you do that?”

Eyes gaining some clarity, Ned watches them wander. “Uh, Ned. The phone. The- the sinks. A mirror. And- and, uh. Paper towel.”

“Bathroom. Classy. Alright, now four things you can touch.”

“Ground. Wall. C-clothes. Backpack.”

“Good, kiddo. You’re doing so well. Keep breathing. Three things you can hear?”

“You. Ned. Kids outside.”

With every answer, the tension in Tony’s own voice seems to ease. For some reason, it softens some of the resentment Ned’s been holding against the man ever since the ferry incident. He continues with urgency. “Two things you can smell?”

“Soap. Sweat.”

“Good. And one thing you can taste?”

Peter exhales, long and slow. He closes his eyes. “Spearmint.”

“That’s great,” Tony encourages. “Feeling any better?”

At this, Peter’s face scrunches up as if he’s about to start crying. Instead, he relaxes more fully against the wall and reaches up to wipe his eyes. “Yeah, Mr. Stark. That’s better. I’m really sorry-”

“Nope,” Tony interrupts. “Gonna stop you right there kid. We’ll talk in person. I can be there in twenty.”

“What?” Peter stalls, eyebrows drawing together. “I have class.”

“Not anymore. See you soon. Ned, can I talk to you real quick?”

Another shot of adrenaline spiking through him, Ned fumbles with the phone until it’s off speaker and pushes it up against his face, though he knows full well Peter will still be able to hear. “Yeah Mr. Stark?”

A short pause. “Has this happened before?”

“Not at school.”

“And not at school?”

Peter looks down at his shoes. Ned frowns. “I don’t know.”

Tony sighs. “Thanks for watching out for him. Do you know what triggered it?”

“Um. A table got flipped over. It was really loud.”

“Yeah, that’ll do it. Damn it. Can you stay with him until I get there? Give him water and make sure he doesn’t fall asleep. You got that?”

“Yeah. Yes. Of course.”

He doesn’t get a response, the line going dead. He pulls it away in disbelief and sets it on the floor. Peter smirks weakly at him from where he’s slumped against the wall. “It’s okay,” he mumbles. “He hangs up on everyone.”

------

For a while, it gets better.

“Ned! Oh my God- MJ said yes! I’m freaking out man!”

Stomach dropping with excitement, Ned spins a full 360 in his room, hands reaching up to his hair. “No freaking way! I told you!”

Peter’s excited rambling continues through his phone. It makes Ned’s heart soar. “What do I do? Where do I take her? The movies? The park?”

“Swinging through New York,” Ned offers with a smile, and Peter laughs.

“No, seriously. It needs to be perfect.”

“Laser tag?”

“Don’t forget that I’m broke, man.”

“How about the Pride Parade? That’s happening this weekend. Seems like her kind of thing.”

Peter pauses, warmth filling the other end of the line. “That’s perfect! God, you’re a genius. Thanks man!”

“You owe me,” he teases.

“I so do. We still on for the death star 2.0 tonight?”

“Wise is Yoda the most?”

Peter laughs again. It’s nice. “Right. See you soon.”

“See you.”

When Ned hangs up, tears bite at his eyes.

He doesn’t remember the last time he’s heard Peter so happy.

--------

Of course, it doesn’t last long.

Ned gets the text during band practice.

It’s from Peter and the empty seat next to him feels more pronounced. He almost ignores it, feeling, despite reason, a deep bitterness for his loneliness. But the message is short.

Help.

Ned nearly tilts out of his chair, his mouth adopting a strange metallic quality and his stomach dropping down to his toes. Before he can even get his shaking hands to cooperate another message lights his screen.

Bleachers.

Ned stands before he can process how strange it must look. His teacher, Miss Gregerson, raises her pencil thin eyebrows. “Ned? What is it?”

“Bathroom,” he blurts, and parts the music stands blocking his exit before she can say another word. He hears laughter follow him but can’t find it within himself to care, his heart beating loud in his ears as he jogs through the empty hallways. Peter needs you. Something is wrong.

He had thought having a best friend for a superhero would be cool. But the longer the time stretches, the more Ned realizes how much sleep he’s been losing over his friend’s safety.

Please don’t be dying.

Ned bursts through the back doors and trips his way down the hill to the track. The yard is empty, filtered with pink and orange light from the sinking sun. It’s warm and the air is still, but the deep sense of foreboding doesn’t leave him.

“Peter?” he calls, even though the bleachers are distant and his throat is closing with fear. He walks faster and it’s only when his feet hit the red dirt of the track that he sees Peter’s hunched form. He’s sitting on the lowest step of the bleacher, his face pinched and the edges of his suit showing from his open backpack. He’s pale and covered in sweat, and when he sees Ned, he sags, his eyes fluttering with what can only be a mixture of relief and exhaustion.

“Peter,” Ned repeats, skidding to his friend’s side. His hands hover, unsure again what to do or how to help. Assess the problem, his mind supplies. Find out what’s hurt.

It doesn’t take long. He follows Peter’s tense posture to his hand, which is clamped down hard over his side. His skin is painted red underneath, the material of his dark shirt shining in the fading light. There’s a cut on his temple that bleeds too, and Ned notices how hard Peter is trying to concentrate on his form, his eyes seeming incapable of adjusting.

“Hey man,” he croaks.

“Oh my God,” Ned breathes. His whole body is shaking now. Weak. Because he’s not equipped for this. “What happened?”

Peter struggles to process his question, blinking heavy and biting hard on his bottom lip. Then he swallows, sways, and musters a weak smile. “Stabbed. Long knife.”

When Peter falls to the side, Ned has to lunge to catch him, supporting his entire weight against his body. The new position allows him to see the blood that’s been pooling on the metal where Peter’s been sitting. A distant part of his brain wonders if the stain it’ll leave will be permanent.

“You need to go to a hospital,” Ned says. Peter’s head is pressed hard into his rib cage. They’re both shaking, their breaths uneven and loud.

“No,” Peter says. “You can help.”

“I can’t.”

“Please.”

It’s desperate. More desperate than Ned’s ever heard his friend. Even after Homecoming. “Peter-” he starts, but there’s no words to convey the weight in his chest.

“We can fix this,” Peter says. “We can fix it.”

“You’re bleeding too much.”

“I just need some help.” Peter lifts himself away with Ned with trembling arms. He’s even more pale, his skin close to translucent. He struggles with the side pocket on his backpack before revealing a small sewing kit. He transfers it into Ned’s palm where it leaves a thick smudge of red. He stares at it for a long time and won’t realize until much later that he’s in shock.

“What?” he stutters, transfixed by how much blood is on the sewing kit.

“My hands... my hands are shaking too much to thread the needle.”

Ned stares. He’s numb.

“Ned?” Peter prompts. He reaches out a hand and bracelets Ned’s wrist in his blood. “Can you- can you thread the needle for me?” he pauses, and almost sheepishly, he smiles. “I need my guy in the chair.”

It’s like a damn breaking. Ned snaps back into awareness, sad, angry, and unable to fully comprehend why. Guy in the chair.

“I’ll help you,” he says, “but not in the way you want.”

Before Peter can protest, Ned pulls out his phone. He dials in the number and tries to ignore the way Peter’s chest falls, or how a tear cuts a line through the grime on his face.

“Mr. Stark?” he asks when the line connects. “I need your help.”

In the background, Ned can already hear the mechanical thrum of what can only be a suit being activated. Mr. Stark doesn’t question it. He doesn’t waste time. “I’ll be there in three minutes,” he says, and then the line disconnects.

Peter blinks slow. His lip trembles. “I wish you didn’t do that,” he says.

And then he collapses.

Ned cries out as he catches him. His shirt will be ruined. Peter’s head lolls sickeningly against his neck, his arms going limp at his sides. Acting on instinct alone, Ned reaches to put pressure over the still bleeding wound in Peter’s side. It’s warm and he gags. His eyes burn with tears.

“P-Peter?” he cries, but Peter remains still against him. He wonders if this is how Peter had felt when Ben had died, and for the first time understands the guilt Peter had pinned on himself. “Wake up, man. Mr. Stark is coming. He’s going to- he’s going to help.”

But Peter doesn’t wake up. He doesn’t even twitch until Mr. Stark hits the dirt hard beside them, his suit retracting from his face to reveal a look of complete terror. It catches Ned off guard, but not as much as the way Mr. Stark gently maneuvers Peter out of Ned’s arms and into his own lap.

“Hey Underoos,” Mr. Stark says. His voice is soft but urgent. He taps on Peter’s face and brushes back his hair. “This isn’t a good look, kiddo.”

Ned is frozen. Stuck. He feels the tacky wetness of blood on his hands and is unable to look at them.

“Pete,” Mr. Stark continues, louder this time. “Wake up. That’s an order.”

Ned holds his breath as Peter’s eyes open to slits. They’re hazy, confused, but his lips manage to quirk up into a smile that betrays the pain in his eyes. “Tony,” he whispers.

Mr. Stark sags and Ned can practically see the relief leak out of him. He plays with Peter’s hair, his free hand pressed down hard against the worst of the bleeding. “You never do things halfway, do you kid?” he asks with a smile that even Ned can tell is for Peter’s benefit alone. “If it weren’t for Ned, you’d be six feet under right about now.”

Peter’s eyes drift to find Ned. His smile widens when they connect. “He’s my guy in the chair,” he slurs.

Tony hugs Peter tighter and Ned is struck just how paternal the hero is acting. Like Peter is the most important thing in the world. A lot has changed since Homecoming, he realizes. “Let’s get you some help, buddy. You up for a flight?”

But Peter doesn’t seem to hear. His eyes are still glued to Ned. He doesn’t speak, but Ned understands anyway.

Tony stands, bringing Peter up with him, and Peter goes limp once more. Ned doesn’t miss the way Tony’s breath hitches or the urgency in his movements. He stops before he takes off, regarding Ned with a look of gratitude. “Happy is on his way to pick you up. Wait here for him, okay?”

Ned can only nod, and when they both disappear into the air, he sinks to the ground. It takes hours for the blood on his hands to wash off, and when he finally makes it to Peter’s room in medbay, he finds Tony Stark with his head pillowed on Peter’s thigh. They’re both sleeping, their arms linked.

And for the first time, it all makes sense.

------

It’s been two weeks since the blip’s reversal.

They’re back at school. Ned shuffles awkwardly at his locker, uncomfortable, like his skin is on too tight. Graduation pictures of his classmates hang on the wall.

Five years.

A deep, unrelenting sadness pulls at his heart. He should be happy to be back, but he’s not. Not really. His little sister, who what seems like yesterday was half his height, now reaches his chin. The calendar in his room is useless.

So much time.

Across the hall, he sees Peter. It calms the sharp edges of his anxiety and as if mirroring his own relief, he sees his friend’s shoulders lose their tension. Ned begins walking towards him and Peter drifts too. It’s slow, cautious, like everything will vaporize in a moment if they move too fast.

But at last, they meet. And in the middle of the hall, surrounded by faces Ned no longer recognizes, they hug. Peter’s grip is strong. Almost bruising. It reminds Ned of Ben’s funeral and the heaviness in his chest doubles.

Peter sniffs. He trembles like he’s cold.

“Are you okay?” Ned whispers in his ear.

Peter is quiet. Ned can hear his measured breathing, an exercise taught to him by Mr. Stark shortly after the incident in the school bathroom.

Mr. Stark, who had died to save them all.

“Not yet,” Peter says after some time. They still haven’t pulled apart. “I just- I really miss him, Ned.”

“I know. I’m sorry.”

Peter’s fingers curl into his hoodie. People are staring at them, and for the first time in his life, Ned can’t bring himself to care.

“I don’t know what I’d do without you,” Peter says, and Ned feels his eyes sting.

Five long years.

“I don’t know what I’d do without you either.”

Finally, Peter pulls away. He wipes his sleeve across his cheekbones and takes in a rattling breath. “Wanna help me with my web shooters after school? May’s making lasagna. Pepper and Morgan are coming over, too.”

Ned smiles. Because after all the injuries he’s seen Peter sustain over the years, he’s seen them all heal too.

He’ll heal.

They both will.

“That sounds great, man.”

After a particularly sloppy handshakes, they walk to class with their shoulders bumping.

And though it may just be a trick of the light, Ned swears he sees Mr. Stark standing in the crowd of students, a wide smile on his face as he looks at them.

And just like Ben, Ned knows that Peter has Tony forever.

[yong-bokk]

all in²

pairing: special agent ! lee felix x medical examiner ! reader

genre: f for fluff and felix

warnings: mentions of dead bodies and a ghost.. or a murderer... or a ghost murderer

welcome back to skz criminal investigation division !!

today

i’d like to introduce you to special agent lee felix yongbok ( ⁎ᵕᴗᵕ⁎ ）

he’s one of the two agents with the prettiest long blond hair in the division in the whole wide world

also has the prettiest !! freckles !! that looks like stardust sprinkled all over his cheeks

to conclude: felix looks like a tiny ball of sunshine,

especially when he smiles ,,

BUT he can kick ass real hard ᕙ(⇀‸↼‶)ᕗ

very good with weapons and combat in general

he also has the deepest voice which comes in handy during interrogations

“stand up and show your skills you know the drill”

+12983742 points for intimidation >:

don’t u worry though

bc he’s nothing but a cuddle bug and the sweetest ball of fluff to his loved ones ‧⁺✧(⁙´ワ`⁙)⁺

and that will include u

ESPECIALLY u

but first ! u’ll have to meet him

so u, my precious reader, are the new medical examiner in the office yay!!!

it has only been a week since u started ur new job and u’re still trying to adjust

but thankfully u have seungmin, the senior medical examiner and also ur new partner, who has been so so helpful and friendly

u’ve been so busy during ur first week with work and all the transfer administrations that u haven’t got the chance to formally meet everyone

so far u’ve only met, well, seungmin

and the unit chief, bang chan, who is very friendly too

but one day !!

an unfamiliar face showed up at the medical examiner’s office |ω・)

GUESS WHO

i’m going to give u a clue

long blond hair, prettiest freckles, and a BLINDING smile

YES

FELIX (♡ > ◡ < )

he came to ur office to fetch a report from seungmin

and that’s when he saw u for the first time

u were bagging up a few articles of clothing to send to forensics

felix never thought anyone could make a lab coat look so pretty

but THERE U WERE LOOKING LIKE AN ANGEL

u: exist

felix’s lovestruck braincells: (⸝⸝⸝ᵒ̴̶̷ ｡ ᵒ̴̶̷⸝⸝⸝)(⸝⸝⸝ᵒ̴̶̷ ｡ ᵒ̴̶̷⸝⸝⸝)(⸝⸝⸝ᵒ̴̶̷ ｡ ᵒ̴̶̷⸝⸝⸝)

cue: felix embarrassing himself in front of u

“hi, i’m here to r-report”

?????????

u are ??????(・ ・ ? confused

bc the most beautiful person u’ve ever seen just popped out of nowhere and says he’s here to report?

what does he even have to reportksljflkasdf

“hi! uhm i’m sorry, report what?”

“the medical report….?”

????????????????what????????

“OHH u mean u’re here for the medical report? hold on”

……

out of his entire lifetime

his brain choses to be dysfunctional right there in front of u

felix, deep down inside: i want to. (」｡≧□≦)」 D I S SIPATE. (」｡≧□≦)」

“oh right y-yeah, for the burn victim”

u hand him a copy of the report u had prepared and walked him through some of the findings

“we found something in the victim’s ear but i think we haven’t heard back from the lab-“

“hey yn they ran out of the cookies u wanted- oh! (｡･o･｡)ﾉ hey felix!”

“h-hi seungmin”

seungmin looks at him weirdly bc ??? what was that

who is this and what have they done with felix, his giggly cuddlebug of a friend

ANYWAYS

after u finished going through everything, felix said thank u and bolted out of ur office so quick

chan: “u okay there, buddy? u look.. uh”

“……that’s exactly how i feel too”

since then on

he never stops thinking about u

also keeps reminding himself of how embarrassing he was and gets sad over it again • ʖ̯ • )

not that he knows but !! u keep thinking of him too

u’re a little sad that all u know about him is that his name is felix (he didn’t even tell u himself :c ) and that he’s one of the special agents in chan’s division

but u two don’t see each other again after that for awhile

the next time u saw him was when u got back to ur office after lunch break

felix was fetching another report from seungmin

and he was all smiley and giggly (❁´▽`❁)*✲ﾟ* with seungmin but the moment u walked into the room

he just smiles awkwardly at u and rushes out

u figured that he’s uncomfortable whenever u’re around

:(

and it was like that for a very long time

he’d come in with chan sometimes for the reports

and he’d be like buddy-buddy with seungmin but whenever u’re there he’s just hhshdfhshfgotta go

u wanted to be his friend too because he looks so lovely to be around :(

little did u know that he’s just shy because he likes u like A LOT and his brain just short circuits whenever u’re within his eyesight :(

u got felix going dumb da da dumb (sorry)

but stop being sad bc

here comes !! the twist to the plot !! (｡✧ᴗ✧｡)

one day

u were working late and we’re talking like LATE late because

(1) seungmin was out of office for a hearing, and

(2) suddenly 4 new bodies came into the office in a span of 2 hours?!@?!?!@# and u were currently in the brink of breaking down ；—；

but seungmin didn’t raise no quitter

with the power of coffee and anime by ur side, u started working through the bodies one by one

it’s a little past midnight now and u were quite sure the last light outside ur office turned off a couple hours ago and

u see

u could just leave and have seungmin work at it in the morning

but the caffeine in ur bloodstream said u wouldn’t be able to sleep once u get home anyway so

(๑•̀ㅂ•́)و back to work (๑•̀ㅂ•́)و

u were scraping something from the last victim’s nails when suddenly ??? the lights went off

ok let’s be real

u are ⁿᵒᵗ afraid

u work with dead bodies every. day. but it’s god knows what o’clock in the morning AND NOW it’s pitch black and u just hhhhSHDFHS

ur hand went into ur pocket to fish out ur phone but then u remembered that u left it to charge on ur table AT THE OTHER SIDE OF THE ROOM

reader u dummy

u didn’t know how long u froze in that same spot bc ???u’re kinda afraid and u couldn’t see anything

but suddenly u heard the sound of glass shattering and someone’s groan and u thought

this is it this is ur END

seungmin is going to walk into this office tomorrow and find 5 bodies instead of 4

u crouched as a horrible attempt to hide from the ghost……….. or potential murderer…………. honestly u don’t know which one’s better (maybe bc the answer is NOT BOTH??!)

u were internally cursing about how u could’ve had a scalpel in hand for self protection but instead all u had with u was a goddamn TOOTHPICK when u felt something? or someone?touch ur shoulder

“hey-“

“p leasedon’t kill me i’m new here i really don’t know anything pleaseiwon’t sayanything to anyone”

“YN IT’S ME”

“THEY EVEN KNOW MY NAME ALREADYSDKFJSK I REALLY DON’T WANT TO D-“ Σ(ﾟДﾟ；≡；ﾟдﾟ)

“i’m not here to kill usdfskdfjs it’s me!! felix”

,,,,,,,,

felix? (･Θ･)

well

that was

,,,,,,,,embarrassing

“w-what are u doing here?”

“the electricity got cut off and i heard hyunjin say u’re working late and probably still down here so… (´ . .̫ . `) i came here to check on u”

u could barely make out his face in the dark but he was close enough u could see him smiling at u

the two of u just stayed there crouching on the ground and u were just about to say something when suddenly the lights flickered on again

( 〃．．) ohsldkfjs he’s so close and if he keeps smiling that lovely u swear u’ll combust

“are u gonna go home yet?”

“i-i’m not done yet”

“oh ! i’ll wait for u”

“WHAT no it’s late go home”

!!!!

“exactly! it’s late!! i’m not letting u go home at 3 in the morning by urself”

so u quickly finish and when u’re done u found felix nearly dozing off on ur table </3

how can a person be so CUTE ◕︿◕

he walked u home and offered u his jacket along the way

(wouldn’t take no for an answer)

it was a little awkward bc the two of u are just very very Shy

but u enjoyed his company

when u finally arrived at ur apartment,

the two of u just stood there for a little while, u fiddling with ur bag and him with his earring

“i-“ “hey-“

“sorry, u go first”

“i apologize for scaring u earlier…. whenever we meet i just always embarrass myself”

he mumbled the second half of his sentence and ur sleep-deprived brain couldn’t make out what he said but !! he looked so disappointed (っ◞‸◟c)

so u gave him a tiny hug

“no, thank you for checking up on me earlier and for walking me home”

:o

felix was bright red

shy shy felix shy

“no worries..” ⁄(⁄ ⁄•⁄ ⁄•⁄ ⁄)⁄ “i guess.. i uh- i’ll get going, yeah? see u tomorrow?”

“see u tomorrow, be safe”

felix waited until u went inside and then let out a giggle

u hugged him

this is the BEST day of his life

it doesn't even matter if his house is on the other side of the city

he’d walk u home every day if it means u would hug him again

bonus:

“thanks for walking me home again” (⌒⌣⌒ )

lix looked like he was about to ask u something

but all he could say is his usual “no worries”

u see

felix has been meaning to ask u for ur number for a WEEK now but he just couldn’t seem to get the words out of his head >:

he was just about to chicken out once again when u fished out ur phone and gave it to him

“u know… i’d say text me when u get home but i don’t have ur number”

smooth reader very smooth (＾⌒＾*)

he thanked the heavens he didn’t drop ur phone when typing in his number because boy was he SHAKING

the two of u stayed up all night texting and neither could stop smiling that day

[marshmallow-phd]

Healing Touch

Part of The Untamed - EXO Wolf Universe

Genre: Wolf!AU

Pairing: Yixing x Reader

Summary: Medical school abroad was the last line on your to-do list before starting the rest of your life. Everything was going according to plan. Everything, that is, until tragedy strikes your campus. In the wake of a professor’s untimely death, you’re partnered with the cute boy with a breathtaking smile in the newly combined labs. You find yourself unable to resist the dimples and shy glances, but his life is here with no plans of leaving. Will you continue on as planned or will you accept the hand that Fate had dealt you?

Part: 1 I 2 I 3 I 4 I 5 I 6 I 7 I 8 I 9 I 10 I Final

**

Yixing sat at the kitchen table as the others finished up their breakfast. Minseok took the now empty plate that had belonged to Ji Yeon and rinsed it off in the sink, scrubbing away at the bits that had caked onto the white porcelain. Yixing continued to stare at the newspaper article. He’d read it so many times in the last fifteen minutes that surely he had it memorized by now. Worry pounded in his ears and not simply because of the rise in wolf-related deaths in the area. It had been his professor that was killed this time.

The same splitting headache that had been plaguing him for weeks now came back in full force. Dropping the paper, Yixing rubbed his eyes with his thumb and index finger. It didn’t do any good.

“You okay?”

Yixing looked up at Baekhyun, who stood on the other side of the table. He smiled. “Of course. Given the circumstances. I’m just hoping I can catch up in this new class.”

“It sucks that it had to be one of your pre-med classes,” Baekhyun said, shaking his head.

“It’s terrible that it had to happen at all.”

“You know what I meant. We’re already worried enough about these attacks, but now you’re connected to one of the deaths. We’ll have to be extra careful.”

“I’m always careful.”

“Yixing isn’t the one we have to worry about.” Junmyeon said pointedly. Baekhyun feigned a wounded look. Snickers echoed around the room, except from Minseok’s mate, Ji Yeon. Her eyebrows were pinched tight with concern. And she had every right to be. Perhaps she should even be more worried than she already was.

The headache still throbbed behind Yixing’s eyes. Relief didn’t seem to be coming soon. He stood up from the table, excusing himself quietly as he left the kitchen for his bedroom to be alone.

“Yixing?”

He stopped a few steps up.

Ji Yeon stood just inside the short hallway, arms folded in front of her with the fingers tucked underneath. Yixing thought of her as a strong person, someone who stood as a good foundation for Minseok. He didn’t know her that well yet, but he already say her as the strong type, the sturdy kind.

“Yes?”

“You guys will catch this omega, right?” She glanced off to side, probably to check that Minseok hadn’t overheard her question. The eldest wolf was more than aware, Yixing was sure of it. The connection between a mate and their wolf was strong, indescribably so from the stories he’d heard. If he was honest, he was a bit jealous that Minseok was the first to be mated. The hope he had, however, was that she would not be the last. Once a pack started finding their other halves, it was a domino effect. His time would come, sooner or later.

Yixing mustered up a smile that he hoped came off as reassuring. “There’s nine of us and one of him. Eventually, we’ll find him.” Accepting that answer for the time being, Ji Yeon nodded and walked back into the kitchen. As soon as she was out of sight, Yixing dropped the smile and swallowed thickly. He headed up the rest of the way to bedroom and shut the door.

Tense energy tingled through his feet as he sat on the edge of his bed. They were aching to move, to pace in hopes to work out the nerves, but he didn’t want to concern his brothers who would certainly hear it from the floor below. A run was out as well. As soon as any of the others got a whiff of someone shifting to wander through the woods, they jumped in to join. Only Minseok had the talent to get away clean.

Honestly, that was the least of his worries if he were to go running.

He wasn’t a killer. He wanted to help people. That was why he was studying medicine, why he wanted to be a doctor. But lately… These headaches were never ending, plaguing him over the last several weeks. And then there were the blackouts. Moments of time where he couldn’t remember what had happened. No one saw him during those times. Though he didn’t have to ask when he saw the pack after an episode. He was usually questioned where he had been himself. And he never had an answer. Not a truthful one.

No. This couldn’t have been him. There was another explanation for what was happening, both with the killings and with himself. It would just take time to figure it out.

**

Your fingers clenched tightly to the textbook against your chest. All morning you had been spending time at the library, reviewing last week’s vocabulary in an effort to distract yourself. Unfortunately, in a place like this with a wild animal running around killing people, escaping the whispers and rumors was not an option. It seemed that everyone was discussing the latest tragedy. And it made sense with how close it hit to the university.

“I hear her body was found in pieces.”

“I’m surprised they even found a body with all the animals that live in the woods.”

“Some of the hunters are talking about going out to kill the animal before it kills someone else.”

“No way. Did you see the pictures someone took of the paw prints in the dirt? That thing has to be huge. Like a bear.”

“There’s no way its as big as a bear.”

“I didn’t even know there were wolves in the forest.”

“What? Did you think it was all bunnies and squirrels?”

Unable to take it anymore, you’d slammed the textbook shut (gaining annoyed glares from those around you as if they weren’t the cause of your inability to utilize the library in the way it was meant to be used) and headed out. It was mystifying to you, the way others would talk about what was happening, like it was sports game or a thriller on TV.

Professor Xui was strict and stern, but she was also admired by the students. The “tough love” type. Though you personally had never been in any of her classes, you did know who she was, and you’d cried when you’d heard the news. Naturally, the university was on top of how to move forward. You’d groaned audibly when you’d read the email that the classes would be combining. Your human physiology class was already close to capacity. They had moved your session into one of the larger science rooms where freshman chemistry classes typically took place. Goodbye uncomfortable wooden desks, hello overly tall lab tables and bar stools with no back support.

You were one of the first to arrive at the lab, giving you the pick of the lot. One of the front tables was free so you settled there. You continued to clutch to the textbook that should have been opened to the page written on the white board in front of you. It was hard to let go. This thick, overpriced book wasn’t going to protect you from anything. And besides, you had no reason to be afraid. You didn’t go into the woods. You weren’t the kind to hike or camp or go near the trees for any reason. The flannel shirt you wore was simply because it was comfortable. You were absolutely fine.

Rolling your eyes at yourself and the silliness that was the track of your mind, you let go of the book and flipped to page thirty-four. Other students filed in as the seconds ticked closer to the allotted time. Professor Jiang, a short, salt and pepper-haired man with wired-framed glasses and a dad-level sense of humor, walked into the room with his old school briefcase, corners wearing thin and the metal on the push latches showing the brass base until the silver coating. The duet of the latches still made you jump even after fully expecting it.

“Good morning, everyone.” Professor Jiang adjusted his glasses. A nervous twitch he completed at the beginning of every class. All it took was five minutes into his lecture and he developed the steel nerves of an alligator wrestler. Pulling a pencil out from your bag, you barely paid attention to the rest of Jiang’s announcement. “I know it's difficult to process, but we’ll all get through this together. For the new students, I will be available for anyone who needs help adjusting to the new teaching style. And I- Oh. Hello.”

You looked up to see what the interruption was.

A late comer had entered the classroom, the door slowly closing behind him. Slim yet athletic, the newest student wasn’t overbearing or imposing, but he still captivated your attention, holding on to it as if his life depended on it. And he was staring right back at you with an intensity that matched your own. Mouth hanging open by the slightest of centimeters, he didn’t move or pay any attention to the professor or the other students staring at him. The muscles in his hand strongly gripped the strap of his backpack that hung off one shoulder. He was going to misalign his back if he kept doing that.

Professor Jiang cleared his throat pointedly, ending the staring contest. “New student?”

The new student blinked rapidly as he turned to the teacher. “Yes. Sorry. I got lost with the new room assignment.”

“One of Xui’s students?”

He nodded.

“That’s alright. We all need an adjustment period. Please, take a seat.”

You stiffened as Professor Jiang held his hand out in the direction of the empty seat right next to you. And that’s exactly where the new student sat. You forced yourself to keep your eyes straight ahead, concentrating a little too hard as Professor Jiang started his lecture of the circulatory system. But his words were drowned out by the shuffling beside you as the new student took out his textbook and other necessities for notes. You leaned forward, holding your neck up by your palm as you mentally repeated the highlights of the pulmonary circuit in order to be productive. The scratch of the pen against your notebook seemed louder today. Your heart seemed to be working in overtime as well. Was everything louder today? Or were you being overly sensitive to noise due to the current circumstances?

“Alright. Please, take a few minutes to go over the review questions located at the end of the section,” Professor Jiang said. It was almost a relief for his short lecture to be over. “Feel free to check with your partner at the table. To make things easier for all of us, the seats you chose today with be permanent for the rest of the semester and who you are seated with will be your constant collaborator.”

Oh, joy.

You were not the best at getting to know new people. It wasn’t your fault, you didn’t think. The other person always wanted to start off with the weather or their job or some other subject that you found difficult to bounce off of to continue the conversation. It was like your mind wasn’t built for small talk. Somehow, you’d missed the installation of pre-programmed responses that everyone else carried around. You had a tendency to go a little too deep a little too quickly. Those were the conversations you wanted to have. Those were the kind that you found easy responses for. But people tended to find your passion about Rosalind Franklin and her forgotten contribution to science a little much.

“Hi.”

The cool voice that broke through your scrambled thoughts made you jump. You hit your knee against the lab table. Careful to hide it from view, you rubbed the sore spot to make the throbbing go away. Your new lab partner must have heard it given the shy smile that pushed up left corner of his mouth, revealing a deep dimple in his cheek. As much as you wished it wasn’t, your heart beating rapidly against your ribs.

For several seconds, you said nothing. No greeting back, no “I’m trying to focus on my work”, not anything. You were silent, staring back at him like he was walking around with a windmill on his head.

“I’m Yixing,” he continued in an effort to get you to speak.

Right. Conversations were two-way streets. “(y/n).”

His smile spread even wider. “It’s nice to meet you, (y/n).”

Words had apparently abandoned you today. All you could do was nod. He didn’t take it offensively. A small chuckle pushed passed the silence.  

“Do you want to do the questions together?” he asked. “Or maybe when we’re both finished, we could compare what we got?” he suggested when you still didn’t answer.

“Compare,” you finally spat out. “I think it would be better if we compared. Afterwards, that is.” Not that you were usually the most articulate person, but this was becoming painful.

Yixing nodded. “Okay.” And with that he turned to his book, numbered the lines down on his paper and read over the questions. Taking a deep breath, you turned to your own station to do the same. Big mistake.

His natural scent hit you like a gust of wind on a previously calm day. You weren’t expecting the soft pine smell that he radiated. It wasn’t an overly musty, too-much-cologne type smell. It was subtle; the reason you didn’t catch on to it until this moment. Glancing over at you, Yixing frowned.

“You smell nice.” Oh, gosh, someone kidnap you now. Get you out of here in a fashion that would give reason as to why you didn’t come back. Did those words actually just leave your lips? Turning away from him, you reprimanded yourself for the slip up. Yixing laughed softly, making you turn to face him again.

“Thank you,” he said sweetly. “I appreciate the compliment. Especially since this building has a tendency to smell bad between the chemicals and dissections. I’m always worried that I’ll leave with some of it on me.”

You smiled at his joke. And that was where your thought train stopped. Instinct told you that an additional response was appropriate, but none came to you. You tried to rifle through the possibilities. Before you could find one, though, Yixing had turned his back down to his work.

With the awkward exchange over, you were able to make it through the five questions, writing down the answers with confidence.

“Do you want to compare?” Yixing asked as soon as you wrote the last word.

“Sure.” You slid your paper closer to the middle and shifted your body so you were partially facing him. One by one, you went over what each of you had gotten. Physiology of the human body was a strong suit of yours, more so than of your other science classes. That little bit of pride you had was perking up. It was ready to show off its penchant for knowledge. Unfortunately, this was not going to be one of those times for showing off. For the most part, you were evenly matched. Your answers were close, nearly identical in some parts.

“Professor Jiang might think we cheated,” Yixing teased.

“Well, he did say to collaborate with each other.” Good response. Appropriate response. You nearly patted yourself on the shoulder with that one. You even gave it the kind of tone that said you were merely teasing back.

“Yes, that’s true.”

“That concludes today’s class,” Professor Jiang announced. “As you leave, please stack your answer papers on the corner of the desk up here.” He patted the black top for emphasis. “Have a good day, everyone.”

Standing up, the sounds of stool legs scraping against the scuffed tile echoed through the large room behind you. Once your textbook was zipped up safely in your bag, you reached for the paper. Yixing swiped it up first.

“I’ll take it up there for you.”

“Oh, no, that’s okay. You don’t have to.”

“I want to.”

You might not have been the only one blurting out thoughts before you stop them. A slight pink hue bloomed on Yixing’s cheeks. You were left there speechless as he hurried to the front, dropped off the papers, and left the classroom.

Dazed was an understatement. You didn’t know what to make of what had just happened. So, you ignored it. It was probably nothing anyway. Checking your watch, you calculated the amount of time you had until your afternoon sessions. There was a long break in between. The smart decision would be to hang out somewhere on campus to ensure that you actually went to your afternoon classes. But you needed quiet. Somewhere with no whispers about the woods or comments about the college’s new schedules. The only place you were guaranteed to find that was in your apartment. The building was a couple blocks away, a short walk no more than five minutes. You would have plenty of time to head there and back.

The front door was unlocked when you arrived. A bad habit from your roommate. She didn’t see the need to lock it if she was home and awake. You, on the other hand, clicked it tight and double checked it before stepping in deeper to the apartment.

Ran was sitting at the table, eating noodles and scrolling through a site on her laptop while her phone played a soft melody led by a pipa. It was a dreamy song, soft and comforting, like what your parents used to play for you after a nightmare.

Sighing to yourself, you sat down across from Ran and let your bag fall off your shoulder and to the floor. You hadn’t taken your computer with you, so the loud clump wasn’t one to panic over.

“How was class this morning with the new students?” Ran asked over the music.

The two of you weren’t extremely close. Friends, but not blood sisters. Ran had been your roommate freshman year and when you started talking about moving off campus, you’d offered her the other room to cut down on cost. She’d taken it rather than risk getting a new roommate that she didn’t like. You were similar some ways and vastly different in others. It balanced out, though, and you got along to the point where neither of you kicked up a fuss about cleaning the rooms or washing the dishes. You simply cleaned up after yourself. It was a co-habitation of convenience.

You shrugged. “It was fine. We’re all partnered up now, which is a little awkward, but I’ll survive, I guess.”

“Are they cute, at least?” Ran said with a smirk.

Yes. “I don’t know. I wasn’t paying that much attention.”

“You’re a terrible liar.” Reaching over to the stack of envelopes, Ran plucked the one off the top and handed it to you. “I picked up the mail this morning. Thought you might want to see what came for you.”

Your stomach whirled like it was in a tumble dryer. The envelope had a familiar red emblem of a brick clocktower stamped in the top left corner. With a shaky hand, you took the envelope and ripped open the top. The nicely folded letter slipped out easily. Your eyes scanned the black letters. When they finally sunk in, you slumped back in your chair with a sigh.

“Oh, no.” Ran frowned. “They didn’t reject you, did they?”

You shook your head. “No, not out right. They want to see how well I do this semester before giving a final decision.”

“Well, that’s not too bad. It’s not a no.”

“It’s not a guaranteed yes either.”

Closing her laptop, Ran crossed her arms. Her lips were pursed, eyes down on the table. “You could just stay here. I mean, they have a pretty good medical program and you said that this was where your parents had met-”

“I don’t want to stay here,” you stated firmly. “There’s no reason to.”

“Your aunt is close by.”

“She wants me to do what I want. If that means going to medical school far away, then so be it. I’ll stay in touch with her. Visit when I can.”

“Well, I hope you get in.” Ran stood up and stretched. “On a brighter note, Hae In and I are going out tonight if you want to join us.”

You shook your head. “I’m good. Thanks for the invite, though. I appreciate it.” Whenever Ran and Hae In went out, things tended to get a little crazy. You were sure they had fun and they always came home safe. You just didn’t think that it would your kind of scene. She left a few minutes later and you were finally granted that peace and quite you had been searching for. Well, the quiet, at least.

Peace was nowhere to be found. Stress was rearing its ugly head as you stared at the letter. Ran was right, it was wasn’t a flat rejection. They were, at minimum, interested in giving you a chance. As one of the most prestigious medical universities in the country, you were eager to walk their halls.

The fact that it was far away from any reminders of your life was the bigger incentive. Releasing all the air your lungs were holding on to, you folded the letter back up and tucked it away in the front pocket of your bag. All you had to do was make it through this semester with no hiccups and you would be fine.

Shouldn’t be too hard. There was no reason for any of your plans to be derailed or for you to change your mind.

As long as you survived the next few months, that is.

[twistedapple]

On Pomefiore

[Note: Tumblr being Tumblr, I’ll put the links and due credits in a reblog; also, partially under the cut because it’s a bit long]

This post is something that has been brewing for a while now – my more observant followers will know when it started based on a certain tag. To preface this write up, I’d like to precise that I have been motivated in working on it because of the way Pomefiore was being received when I joined the fandom. Since then it has been followed by certain beliefs that – while being qualified as headcanons, which is perfectly fair and fine in itself – tend to be treated as actual gospel. It’s not a thing specific to the Twst fandom mind you, it happens in most fandoms – heck I still keep an eye on the KHR fandom and there are still people regularly making posts about mischaracterisation, and that fandom has been around for at least ten years. So I’m not here to preach, but to clarify a few things regarding what Pomefiore represents as a dorm, as well as provide a comprehensive commentary on its associated characters.

First belief: Pomefiore is the shallow dorm of pretty people.

But is it? The very first thing we learn about Pomefiore is that it’s the dorm of Hard Workers and other Overachievers, right in the prologue. This dorm is presented as built on the hard work of the Fair Queen, and she’s regularly taken as an example of how one should conduct oneself – especially by Vil, who expresses a lot of admiration and respect in his lesson chats, and clearly treats her as a model to follow in order to reach perfection.

Now you may think “but Crow, the very first thing we learn about the students is that they look impeccable and polish their appearance”. And you would be right; it is indeed how the students of that dorm are presented. However, let me expand a bit on this thought by making something clear: there’s what the dorm is defined as, and then there’s the path each dorm leader decides to follow. To give a few examples, we see Riddle follow the rules of the Queen of Heart to the letter, and dole out punishment whenever these rules are broken – to the point it impedes the students, who can’t use their magic in an environment where it is required. We see Leona applying the Might is Right type of thinking, which leads to Savanaclaw students being often depicted as bullies (and let’s not talk about the Magift tournament...). Azul, under the pretence of benevolence, is actually ruthless in the way he binds people to his contracts – it’s also shown that the Leech brothers act as his enforcers, either by forcing people into deals (during exam periods, as shown at the start of Episode 3) or by reclaiming the due payment of the contract in more or less pleasant ways (Jade being the local master manipulator, while Floyd canonically states that he finds the breaking of bones a more efficient method). Are you seeing where this is going? As a dorm leader, Vil applies his own views on his fellow Pomefiore students; his views happen to include appearances because he aims to be perfect in every way and has a professional background that justifies it. Is it fair to go as far as he is going when it comes to pressuring other students? Of course it isn’t, it’s the whole point of showing him slapping Epel for what he deems an inappropriate behaviour (see Epel’s Ceremonial Card). It sets the conflict of the dorm – and I personally dig how this major narrative bit is hidden in a story... Which brings us to the other point, the meta aspect of Pomefiore. It’s based on Snow White, a story that relies heavily... On appearances. Now let me ask you: is it really surprising to have a dorm based on such story have a focus on appearances as well? And we even get to see different aspects of it: Vil focuses on the tiniest details to be as polished as possible, Rook has a deep love for change and fleeting moments, Epel can turn something nobody wants into something highly desirable (carving damaged apples to sell them better). Pomefiore is the dorm of transformations – both literal and metaphorical -, a fascinating concept in my opinion and a brilliant idea for a solid narrative arc.

Second belief: Vil is a horrible, narcissistic person, but he will also play dress-up/makeup

Let’s sit for a second there, because there are many things to unpack. Now, what do we know about the fairest of all dorm leaders? Well, quite a lot, for someone who has yet to properly appear in the main story! The very first thing we learn about him is that he has a whooping 5 million followers on Magicam – which is massive and not a number you reach while sitting on your hands and waiting for something to happen. This is such an impressive number that we even get to see various reactions to it, from being very impressed to trying to use that fame for personal purposes. Through reading the stories in which he appears, we get to learn some interesting things about Vil: generally speaking, he fits perfectly the image of the consummate professional. In Jade’s SSR story, we get a solid peek into his life and the man has a busy schedule. He juggles daily with his duties as a student, a dorm leader, an influencer and a professional model – these things take time and he manages to go from one duty to the other with both the ease of someone who’s used to it and the precise organisation of someone with a solid head on his shoulders as well as an incredibly strong work ethic and drive. Speaking from personal experience with the modelling part and an informed opinion on the influencer part, these two fields alone aren’t easy to handle at all. Being an influencer can be very cutthroat (as a certain beauty community has been demonstrating since last year...), and being a professional model requires a lot of drive and dedication, as well as major self-care in regard to both your body and your mental health, because those are the tools of your trade as a model. In consequence, Vil as a dorm leader focuses on appearances as a result of heavy intellectual work to honour the Fair Queen he so highly respects (he says so in his voicelines: “True beauty is determined by strong intellect. You can always doctor your looks, but your true colors will still shine through right away.”), but Vil as a person is also extremely focused on his appearance because he’s doing his job. It’s not narcissism, it’s professionalism. And with his Ceremonial Robes story, we even get to learn that he was ostracised in his hometown for being a performer, yet he kept going and working to reach his goals. For someone who’s only 18 years old, this is an exceptional display of drive, discipline and maturity.

Vil has the highest standards for himself, but because he comes from pretty damn far, he also expects other people to be capable of showing the same degree of determination to achieve their goals. He expresses that in various ways, from being openly displeased with Leona’s general negligence (with Ruggie doing all the work in the background – see Leona’s school uniform story and Ruggie’s lab coat story), to being unimpressed by the new Pomefiore students and getting ready to whip them in a shape he’ll deem desirable as soon as he lays his eyes on them. He’s also highly critical of people going for the easy way out: in his school uniform story, he not only criticises Cater for trying to use him for his own five seconds of fame by buttering him up, but he also emphasises the fact that his services aren’t free. Emphasis on that: Vil isn’t a charity. He isn’t the sort of person with whom you’ll mutually brush your hair while sharing smoothie recipes. Rook is more likely to be the one up to that sort of thing, because Rook is nice and a good senior (see: Rook’s ceremonial robes story). Vil, on the other hand, encourages a lot to try and learn on your own, to use your own head in order to create your own brand (see his lab coat voicelines). He’ll be more enclined to help only after you started doing a part of the job independently and showed you can think and act for yourself. And even then, he’ll likely kick your ass to push you to keep up, because behind all the sparkles and lustre Vil is very much depicted as an overbearing Drill Sergeant. Like I pointed out earlier, it’s heavily hinted that he didn’t get where he is by waiting for good fortune to come by. He works for his success daily and expects other people to do the same. Does it seem like a rather unfair treatment? Sure, but at the same time it provides a great learning opportunity for those willing to put up with it, and Vil offers it in a surprisingly selfless manner: there is an open concern about the way people present themselves, and how they can do it to be their best self at all time.

Interestingly, it creates a peculiar dynamic with his vice dorm leader, Rook. There’s a constant sway between them, with Vil bluntly telling him he can be easily replaced if he fails in his duties, while still relying on him more than Rook relies on him in return – in fact, Rook pretty much follows his own path, and Vil happens to be a very nice view along that path so Rook decided to stop and hang out for a bit, but he still checks his surroundings for other nice views. So while Rook puts up with Vil’s tight requirements (see Rook’s ceremonial robes story, where Floyd cleverly observes that he doesn’t seem that fond of the perfume Vil created for him and forces him to wear during ceremonies), he’s also the one taking actual charge of the new students (see when he checks on Epel in his ceremonial robes story, or when he offers his support during the Ghost Marriage event) and trying to smooth things out when Vil is being too rough (see Vil’s ceremonial robes story). Interestingly, it leads to a communication issue between these two, fueled by what looks very much like a unilateral dependant relationship on Vil’s part, no matter how much he denies it. He rejects Rook through threats of replacing him, yet fully trusts his eyes and sincerity, yet this very sincerity is the reason why Vil doesn’t fully open up to Rook (see Vil’s lab coat story, he goes to Trey to vent about Rook’s lack of consideration) and uses a Harsh Commanding Queen attitude to hide his own insecurities from the eyes of the person who can see them best. It’s likely not helped by the fact that Vil is aware that he needs Rook more than Rook needs him – it’s obvious when reading the latter’s profile: Rook likes his privacy, and while he keeps putting his nose in other people’s business (not out of malice, but genuine curiosity), he’s notoriously deemed annoying by characters like Leona and Malleus because of his overly curious yet inconsiderate nature. There’s a selfishness in Rook which protects him from getting fully controlled by Vil, I’ll repeat myself here but I’d rather insist on that: Rook willingly decided to follow Vil, it means he has the power to refuse him as well (which is very much like... Oh, the Huntsman in Snow White – though in his case specifically, there’s also variations in which his family is held hostage and all, while Rook makes his own decisions).

This entire situation is heavily fueled by Vil’s need for control. As aforementioned, he focuses on the tiniest details and holds complete control over everything that makes his life what it is: from the type of makeup he picks to every single component used in the meals he prepares himself, Vil has a clear need for full control, and it’s reflected in the way he interacts with other students, as well as in the way he handles even his club activities. Vil isn’t just a model, influencer and even actor, in the film study club he works as a director and in one of his stories (lab coat), he’s even shown to create the special effects himself, because only he can provide for his own desires in the most exact fashion. This is where his little “I can replace you easily” becomes funny, because it translates his need for control without really holding since Rook is the one with the most agency in the relationship. In comparison, in Silver’s PE uniform story, Silver is treated like a pawn and Vil even berates Malleus in front of him because Silver dares deny him (how dare he have his own agency instead of being a nice prop who should feel honoured to be selected). Interestingly, Silver also compares Vil’s way of doing things to something martial. AhemDrillSergeantVilahem. In this story, the interesting point is that things finally start working well when Vil stops considering his own vision and decides to look beyond it a bit: taking Silver’s actual abilities into consideration, he finally has a scene that works. It works because he loosened the control a bit – while Silver went along with it but remained vocal the whole time about where his own skills lie.

While the relationship between Vil and Rook, as well as Vil and the rest of the Pomefiore dorm, have been holding through a quietly tense status quo, there is one pebble - dare I say, one potato - who is more than willing to challenge the whole situation through open defiance and a strong will: Epel. He has been set by the narration to be the catalyst to an incoming breaking point, because he wants to live his life to the beat of his own drum, yet remains a teen still in need of a journey of self-discovery. It’s illustrated in how he misunderstands the point of Pomefiore by only looking at the surface - something Vil reproaches, which is why he even talks about his need for more self-awareness in the lesson chats. Of course, Vil uses his own language (beauty) to get his point across, but the underlying point is that Epel has yet to reach a certain degree of self-realisation - such as the fact he is free to try and work hard to become beefier (Vil wouldn’t object as long as he puts in the necessary efforts), or that he is a good fit in Pomefiore because he has the drive to reach his goals and gives himself the means to do so (high awareness, anyone?). Basically, he’s the example of Vil’s communication issues: Vil’s martial nature tends to drown the actual meaning of his motivational speeches. Paradoxically, when dealing with someone like Epel, it actually fuels the teen through spite, which is both comical and quite impressive given Epel’s results (reminder of his own lab coat story, in which he manages to impress Crewel, a man made from the same fabric as Vil, with his formidable results through hard work). However, this form of motivation isn’t healthy, and just like with Rook, a good, long talk is needed to create a better understanding - instead of forcing his Tyranny of Beauty on others.

Bonus point, because I really want to address it

For some time now, I’ve been vocal about my personal feelings regarding the reception of Pomefiore and its characters. While it became more positive since June, it still tends to miss the point for a reason I’d like to address: the Not Like The Other Girls mentality and how it specifically affects the way Vil and his own femininity are perceived.

While I am not invalidating this thinking as part of a larger growth process, I think it has been unfairly used against Pomefiore. In a way, it’s very much the way Epel reacts: it’s just a Pretty People Dorm led by an Annoying Pretty Boy, and Savanaclaw is cooler. However, this is not only superficial, it puts a judgement of value that means that one has to be put down for the other to shine. In other words, Vil as a character is undervalued because his way of life - which matches traditionally feminine occupations, hell he’s even using a feminine pronoun - has been associated with vanity, narcissism, and superficiality by the fandom. To get my point across, let me provide you with quotes from some of our most brilliant minds:

“Woman wants to be independent […] this is one of the worst developments in the general uglification of Europe. Woman has so much reason for shame; in woman there is concealed so much superficiality, petty presumption and petty immodesty – one needs only to study her behaviour with children!” - Nietzsche

“What is truth to a woman? From the very first nothing has been more alien, repugnant, inimical to woman than truth - her great art is the lie, her supreme concern is appearance and beauty” - Nietzsche (again)

“A man’s face is his autobiography. A woman’s face is her work of fiction.” - Oscar Wilde 

“All the pursuits of men are the pursuits of women also, but in all of them a woman is inferior to a man.” - Plato

“As regards the sexes, the male is by nature superior and the female inferior, the male ruler and the female subject” - Aristotle

Do you see where I’m going with that? Because he has an occupation focused on appearance, something historically associated with women, Vil should be… Less? Should be negative? Even though he is quite vocal about it being a mere result of a much deeper work on himself, throughout his voicelines, lesson chats and personal stories? It’s not vanity, it’s not narcissism. It’s Vil expressing himself through the age old art forms of fashion, skincare and makeup. How, and why it being focused on something external should be less? It’s especially obvious when you stop and consider Vil’s own testimony: he has been ostracized by his own community for being a performer. His appearance is as much a mask as it is a proof of everything that preceded it – him saving himself with his own means and work. It’s both a protection and a result that he proudly brandishes – and he absolutely can afford the arrogance to do so, considering his achievements at such a young age (reminder, again, that he’s 18 years old, despite being very disillusioned with life already). Why should it be less that? Vil’s inclination towards appearances is both his truth and his fiction, that’s what the narrative tells us - and there’s nothing bad about that.

I guess I’m especially tired of this point because I’ve had to deal with that thinking pattern myself irl, for evolving in similar fields/similar hobbies, and it’s frustrating to see that sort of close mindedness. It’s infuriating. So, that’s a more personal aspect of my rant... But here we are.

[hikarimiyanaga]

I'll Always Be Yours (Part 6)

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Sixth Song : Back To Love

Natasha remembers her fond memories of you. She then finds you once and for all.

A/N : It’s the first full-on English song on this playlist!! YES!

No warning this time but if you think I should put one. Just say so and I'll edit as soon as I can

Can this be consider Fluff? If it is then there.

Fluff.

Late night she watches the moon from the shoreline

Waiting there where hope is found

Talks through me inside, she's not holding back

Where can love be found?

-

Natasha watches the moon as Clint gives them the information about the new threat. She doesn’t listen but tries to make it seems like she is. She missed you again. She knows you were avoiding her during your latest art exhibition because she just kept waiting in front of her own portrait but you never approached her.

-

“Y/N.” She calls out and you hum. You just snuggle into her more. “Baby, come on.” She whines and you chuckle.

“What is it?”

“I want food.” You laugh and you untangle yourself from her. She whines again but you just shake your head as you wear your clothes.

“Anything you want?”

“Peanut Butter Pancakes?” You nod and kiss her forehead before throwing on your shirt.

“Give me at least five minutes, baby.” You leave your room and Natasha puts on her own clothes. After five minutes, she goes to the kitchen and sees you flip a pancake to a plate.

“Y/N?” You hum and smile at her.

“Morning.”

“It’s 1pm.” You laugh and turn off the stove and get the last one to the plate. You then sit down and pat the chair next to you.

“It’s morning somewhere.” She laughs and sits besides you.

-

She loves mornings with you. How you always cared for her.

“Nat?” She hums and look at Clint. “You’re thinking about her.” She nods. “After this mission, we’ll find her again.” She smiles at him.

“I know.”

-

If you can see words deep inside of this

Then at least try to fill your heart with bliss

Cause I will find you, to where you're going now

And I will find a way to live by through your heart and through your mind

-

Natasha quickly strides to Tony’s lab, she wanted to find you as soon as possible so she hasn’t even bothered changing.

“Tony-“ Her words get caught up in her throat when she sees the painting on his wall. It was yours. “Wha-“

“Bought everything on that exhibition. Except your portrait and that one painting. She said that it was reserved.”

“How much did you-?”

“125 million. It was worth it though, Pepper says my décor is not shit anymore.” Nat was still admiring your painting. “She said to give you something.” That got her attention. “It’s in your room and covered.”

“I need-“

“I’m already on it. I’ll tell you when I find her.” Natasha nods and goes to her room. She immediately notices the canvas sitting on her bed. She uncovers it and gasps. It was them, the Avengers in all of their glory. She realizes that you must’ve watched videos of them in the Battle of New York. She tears up and sobs.

-

“Y/N.” She calls out and you hum. “What are you doing, baby?” She hugs you from behind and you smile.

“Painting.”

“Oh wow.” You turn to her.

“Is it good?”

“Good? It’s amazing.” You laugh and kiss her. “Is it supposed to be me?” You gasp and she chuckles.

“Natalia! It is you! The resemblance is uncanny!” She laughs and you revel in the sound.

“I’m just joking, baby.” You hum and kiss her again.

“I’ll paint more.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. It’s really fun to do.”

“Says you. I love kicking ass more.” You laugh.

“Not all of us know how to take down people that are bigger than us, Nat.” She hums.

“I should teach you.”

“What?”

“How to take down people.” You scrunch up your face at her.

“Why?”

“Self-defense.”

“Or you just really want to throw me like a ragdoll.” She laughs and kisses you.

“One of the reasons.” You gasp and push her away.

“Oh my god, my girlfriend likes to punch me! You abuser!” She jumps on you and you catch her. You slip on the floor and you both end up on the floor. You both laugh and Natasha straddles you.

“I love you.” She says softly and you sit. You cup her face and smile.

“I love you too.”

-

She calms herself down and hangs your painting on her wall. She smiles at your signature at the bottom right. She touches the letter carefully.

‘Y/N Y/LN. I’ll find you and I’ll love you again.’ Tears fall down her face. ‘So please don’t say that’s it’s too late. Please. I want you to be mine again.’

-

Even though I'm never there

You never have to fear

I can see you up from here

With a little mist of tear

So I spread my wings and fly above the skies I see so clear

You can feel the love my dear, do you hear me now?

Then I'll sing it back for love

-

“Natasha. Found her.” Natasha stands up from the dinner table and gets the paper that Tony holds out.

“Where is she?” Clint asks and drinks.

“Philippines. A mansion in Batanes Islands.”

“Nat.” Natasha hums as she gets to a laptop. “Need help?”

“For what?”

“I don’t know? Explaining?”

“Explaining what?”

“Why you couldn’t contact her? Why you thought she was better off?”

“Seriously? That’s a lame reason.” Clint glares at Tony. “Just saying. Y/N doesn’t look weak.”

“So what? Natasha was chased by the remnants of the Red Room for years. Not to mention, KGB agents.” Tony hold up his hands in surrender.

“Okay, Barton. I get it.”

“It’s okay, Clint. I’ll go alone.” She gets her jacket and the duffel bag full of clothes and essentials. “Tony, I need to borrow the smaller quinjet.”

“Sure.” Natasha gets into the quinjet and pilots it to Batanes.

“Jarvis. Switch to Auto Pilot.”

“Confirmed. Confirmed destination. ETA : 2 hours.” Natasha nods and steps back. She sits down on the corner and close her eyes.

-

“Hi, Mrs. Y/LN.” Natasha greets and you try to stop your laughter but give out. Natasha’s eyes widen and your mother swats your arm.

“Sorry. Sorry. I told her not to nervous and she’s still stiff as a board.”

“And you are not helping her.”

“Ma. I saw her take at least 10 people that’s three times her size.”

“So what? I am your mother.” You scrunch up your face.

“Whom she already met.”

“When she was a kid.” You shrug and your mother shakes her head at you. “Don’t mind that one, Natalia. Come inside.”

“T-thank you.” She stutters and you get her coat.

“Don’t be nervous.” You whisper and she gulps.

“Easier said than done.”

“Nat. Mom already loves you.”

“Really?”

“It’s the truth. You’re the only one who can make my stubborn daughter listen, Nat.” You gasp.

“I listen to you, mom!” Your mother raises an eyebrow at you.

“Your laundry?” You blush and groan. “Your cooking?”

“One time! I messed up one time!”

“Your art supplies?”

“Okay! Fine! Make me seem messy, mom.” You push Natasha to the dinner table. You squeal in delight. “You cooked lumpia and palabok! You’re the best, Mom.” You hug her and she shakes her head at your antics.

“This is what you have to deal with, Natalia.” You sit and pull Natasha besides you. You ignore your mom and begin getting food. You get your mom’s, Natasha’s and your own.

You all bond and after the visit, Natasha feels more comfortable with your mother.

As you both go home. You hum a song and Natasha smiles.

“What song is that?”

“Forever. It’s by December Avenue.”

“Oh. That band that you listen to all the time.”

“Yep. Their lyrics are pretty angsty but I like them.”

“It’s in Filipino.”

“They have English songs too.” You smile at her and she laughs. She takes your hand.

“I love your mom.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah. She’s really nice and comforting.” You hum.

“That she is.”

“Do you think she’ll give me her blessing?” You tilt your head at her.

“For what?”

“When I ask for your hand in marriage.” She casually drops and you stop. She hums as she looks at your frozen face. You blush as seconds pass by and Natasha laughs. You clear your throat and trudge after her.

“Ask her yourself.” You mumble and Natasha nods. She plans to.

-

“Miss Romanoff, we’re going to arrive in 15 minutes.” Nat gets woken up by Jarvis’s voice. She took a nap without meaning to.

“Okay.” She changes her clothes into more comfortable ones.

-

I'm coming back, I'm coming back for your love

I'm coming right back to love again

And I'll spread my wings and I'll take you high in love

I'm coming back, I'm coming back

I'm coming back, I'm coming back to love

-

You were sketching with headphones on so you don’t hear the quinjet’s soft landing in your yard. Silvia and Miyuki did though and they were glaring at it. Natasha steps out with her duffel bag and sees your bodyguards.

“What do you want from Y/N?” Silvia growls and Natasha sighs.

“That’s none of your business.” Miyuki steps forward and stops Silvia from advancing on her.

“It is when you make our boss and friend cry at night.” Natasha sighs.

“And I plan to rectify that.” She glares at them.

“NO WAY. Go back to your boyfriend.” Natasha’s eye twitches.

“Okay, first of all, Steve is not my boyfriend. Second, it was a mission. And third, I have Y/N! I love her!”

“Still no, Miss Romanoff. Please leave.”

“Let me see Y/N before you two regret it.”

“Try us.” Natasha runs straight at them. And the two tries their best to beat her.

-

You hum as you sketch your mom. You’ve been sketching Natasha for the past few days on end so you wanted a different person. You were oblivious while the three duke it out on your yard.

“Jusmiyo! Silvia! Miyuki!” Your house’s caretaker, Patricia, shouts as she sees them. They all stop and pant. Natasha sighs. The two were good, they managed to get some punches in but their teamwork needs some work… specially since Silvia seems adamant to take all of her punches on her own. “Anong ginagawa niyo!? At sino ka!?” Silvia and Miyuki clam up. While Silvia knows some Tagalog words, her Tagalog could use more leveling up and Miyuki is just starting to learn it.

“Pasensya na po.” Natasha says and they all look at her. “Ako po si Natalia.” She introduces herself and Patricia nods.

“Ah. Yung nobya ni Y/N. Andoon siya sa loob, pumasok ka na.” Natasha sighs in relief.

“Salamat po.” She walks by Silvia and Miyuki who glares at her. She walks inside and sees you sitting on the sofa. You were sketching and she gets teary-eyed. “Y/N?” She calls out then notices that you have your earphones again. She sighs and drops her duffel bag besides the sofa. She slowly sits so she won’t alert you. She takes off your earphone. You look at the sudden interruption and freeze.

“Nat?” You call out softly and you drop your sketchpad and pencil. She nods. “Is this a dream?” She shakes her head and tears fall down your face. “You’re really here?” You cup her face, and she leans into your touch.

“I am, baby. I am.” You cry more.

“Why?”

“I told you, моя любовь. I’ll come back for you.” You chuckle.

“Don’t you have Steve?” She cups your face, and you gulp.

“Listen, Y/N. I know you saw us kiss but that meant nothing to me.” You frown. “You’re still the one.”

“How do I-“ She cuts you off with a kiss, you try to fight it back at first but the desire that you've always had just can't be stopped. You kiss her back. Tears fall down her face and you break the kiss off. “What’s wrong?” She shakes her head.

“You kissed me back.” You nod. “I’m not too late yet.” She kisses you again and you smile against her lips. You agree, she isn’t too late yet. - Translations: Jusmiyo - Oh my God Anong ginagawa niyo!? At sino ka!? - What are you all doing!? And who are you!? Pasensya na po. - I'm sorry Ako po si Natalia. - I am Natalia. Yung nobya ni Y/N. Andoon siya sa loob, pumasok ka na. - Y/N's Girlfriend. She's there inside, go inside now. Salamat po. - Thank you моя любовь - Moya lyubov - My love Because imagining Natasha speaking my mother tongue does things to me. Also, we only have two more songs to go and this series is finished. Seriously though, this is the fastest that I've ever written? I only wrote this in like five days when I got the inspiration. Turns out doing nothing does wonders for me and my writing.

Also, accidentally posted this on my other Tumblr so if you saw it for a second, it was that, my clumsiness plus my cats combined.

[cherripeach]

Chapter 10

Little Match Maker

Summary: Your life motto is “I have the power of god and anime on my side, don’t mess with me,” and you stand by that with your life. No human, magician, or random creature could ever stop your firm belief in it.

However, getting transported to this world that seemed to turn your already bad luck worse was not what you wanted to be in your life story, but you made the most of it. Making friends, enemies, and disasters, you were in your prime in this world, and so you decided to help as many people as you could flourish, at least what you believed to be.

Chapter 1:5 i’m jared 19 and i never learned how to read

Warnings: Curse words, implied sex jokes

Words: 3.4k

Relationships: developing but future twstxreader

You three made it to homeroom right before the final bell rang, meaning none of you were late which was boring in your opinion. Being fashionably late especially on the first day just shows character. 

The classroom was full of caldrons like from Harry Potter but also full of lab coats like a science lab. There were also just shelves with glass covering them full of plants that you have never seen before and ones you hoped to never touch because you are 100.69% sure they can kill you. Then, there were just shelves of bottles of potions like in the movies which you also did not want to touch not for fear of death but because they could turn you into a frog or something which sounded kinda cool now that you thought about it. Still, you were not going to do it.

Your teacher, however: a hottie. He obviously knows about style and fashion if his dual colored hair and his fur coat are anything to go by. He also had a perfectly shaped face with sharp eyes that you just couldn’t look away from. The whip in his hand told you enough about his life outside of school, and the collar at the end of it also told you enough. This man was def not someone to disrespect, and ngl he could yell at you. That’s for another time; you just hoped you could stare at the man for the entire class. 

Once you and your three friends put the lab coats and goggles on and went to your seats (you assumed because Ace and Deuce dragged you there), the gorgeous man started to lecture, “I see you’re the fresh new faces who will be joining my class today.” He walked around the classroom and gazed at everyone’s figure. “Hm~ What an unusual hair color. Not bad at all, I say. Be careful not to take too long to finish, understood?” He made it to your group of seats near the back and stopped, “My name is Divus Crewel.” His gaze was caught on you for a couple of seconds until he returned to walking around the classroom, “You shall refer to me as Master Crewel, if you please.” He had the most miniscule smirk when he turned back to meet your eyes. 

You turned to Ace with your wide eyes and muttered, “Please tell me he gets you hot and bothered too.” 

Ace just glared and spat back at you, “Only you are dealing with those feelings.” 

Master Crewel clapped his hands twice, “Come, settle down. It’s time for class to begin. First off, a few disclaimers.” 

The entire class ceased the side conversations, and you even placed the weight of your chin on your hands with your elbows on the desk so you could balance your newfound crush for him.

The magnificent man just lightly placed the edge of the whip on his desk, “I shall have your tiny brains remember hundreds of names of medicinal herbs and poisonous plants. And mushrooms are a whole different topic. I’ll have you remember them so that you don’t accidentally poison yourself if you eat some when you go for a walk. Dogs love to eat anything they see, after all.I don’t want to see anyone getting a failing mark during the exam, so I shall be as strict as I can.”

You don’t even remember what he was saying, but you just nodded the entire time. This was a class you knew you were going to stay awake in. Your eyes were still stuck on his figure, and you knew just from looking at him that you may not have a failing grade because you bet you were going to ask for help. 

Your three idiots were seemingly having a conversation next to you while your brain was stuck in your fantasies of after school tutoring. 

Your mind was stuck in your fantasy until the end of class when someone had to use his textbook to smack the back of your head, “Ouch!” You spun around only to find Grim and Ace behind you with a textbook in Ace’s hand. 

 Grim snickered out behind you, “You deserved that, Prefect. Even I, the Great Grim, was paying more attention in this boring class.” By the end of the sentence he sighed all of it out. 

“Come on. Let’s not be late.” Deuce grabbed his stuff and motioned to your group to leave. 

You lightly and neatly put up your lab coat and goggles because male Cruella De Vil was still situated at the front of the class, and you had to look good in front of him. 

“Have a great day!” You gushed out while frantically waving at the man to give him a proper farewell. 

Ace slapped your hand down once you exited the room, “Can you please stop? It’s getting real disgusting.” 

You blew a raspberry at him while the four of you were on your way to your next class, “Oh, shut up and let me be a simp.”

“A what? You know what I’m ignoring you.” Ace shook his head and sighed at your comments. 

The conversation stopped after that when you began to make your way up stairs to get to your next class. You had to go up two flights of stairs which ended with you leaning along a wall, red-faces, and out of breath by the middle of it. 

“Hurry up, supervisor,” Deuce advised. 

You hissed, “Shut up.”

The three of you arrived at your next class which Decue said was “something-something history.” And you were actually kind of excited because you have no clue what has happened in this world, and it is gonna be so different with magic and everything.  

You three took seats near the middle of class, so all of you could still concentrate but still talk some. This class room was structured much more like a lecture hall than the past one with a chalk board at the front behind a teacher desk and desks being on different platforms going up, and so your group had to go up a couple of stairs to get to where you claimed were your seats. 

The class all took their seats and shut their mouths once an older man without a uniform came into the classroom carrying a cat. 

The cat had your full attention for this class because you now have the human desire to pet and love the cat as one should. 

Once the professor sat down with the cat on his lap, he introduced himself, “I am Trein, the professor in charge of Magical History. And this is my familiar, Lucius. I shall have you learn the history behind the magic that you are using now.”

Lucis, the cute little black cat who had a hint of white on his front right under his head, confirmed Professor Trein’s previous statements with a “Meow.”

It took a couple of seconds for you to process the Professor’s words, but once you did you turned to Deuce who was located to the left of you and blurted out, “Wait, is Lucius a real cat? What's a familiar? Can I not pet him? OMG, what if he can understand what I’m saying. That cannot be it-”

Professor Trein cut you off midway with another Lecture (Deuce was just gazing at you with disappointment in his eyes), “I do not only grade by your reports, but also by how you behave in my classroom. I will not tolerate sleeping in class. Now then, please turn to page 5 of your textbooks. This is related to the magic stone that was discovered inside the Dwarf Mines.”

You were taken aback by everything, but you also realized that you did not have a text book. You didn’t even have a book bag or pens, so you turned to Deuce to only flutter your lashes and pout at him until he shared his textbook with you and gave you lose leaf and a pen. 

Lucis decided to bring his voice into the conversation, “Meow.”

“The discovery of this jewel led to magical energy being able to spread worldwide. It could also be considered as the 1st year magic was made possible.” Professor Trein continued his lecture, and you were actually actively taking notes because this was like some wack anime and you had to know the full plot line.

“Meow.”

Ace yawned into his hand when you gazed at him. 

And Deuce was taking notes but his eyes were also beginning to close, “Oh…! The Dwarf Mines, huh… Oh…! Magical energy, huh…” You had to kick him to keep him awake.

Grim rested his head on the desk, “Ugh… I want a more explosive and flashier magic class!”

You could only sigh at the three idiots not paying attention while your pen kept on writing. 

By the end of the class and the lecture was over, all three of the spots next to you were occupied with asleep idiots. You put your stuff into your pockets and got up to nug Grim on his shoulder for him to wake up. His head slowly lifted up with his eyes still closed, so you decided to just carry him to the next class. He was in your arms by the time you got everything together and moved onto the other two idiots asleep. 

You kicked Deuce in the calf who jumped up immediately and rushed to get everything together, and then moved onto Ace to pull his hair. Ace stayed still until you found a certain spot of hair closest to his neck and pinched it and tugged on it. That had him reaching for your hand to stop your actions and had him awake and ready to move. 

“Get up, class already ended.” You let go of his hair to move to the walkway of the classroom. 

Ace shook his head to wake himself further up, “Okay.. but why did you have to pinch me so hard?”

“Were you gonna wake up by yourself?”

“No.”

“I think you see my thought process, then.” You shrugged your shoulders while the two remaining boys got their things together. After that all three of you were off to your next class, causing you to walk down stairs and through hallways until the three of you made it to a field outside.

The boys made you drop off your stuff, which wasn’t much anyway, and Grim in order to go and change into a P.E. uniform. Apparently, in the locker room, there were some extra uniforms for you to change into. 

The locker room stunk of mold and fungus from somewhere in the corners of the room, but Deuce led you to a bin of uniforms. He just pulled the first one from the pile and gave it to you. It was a bright green shirt with a dragon or lizard on it. Then, he gave you a black jacket with yellow stripes on the sleeves and a pair of pants with a faded royal purple stripes on parts of the pants. Seems were also ripped out of certain parts of the uniform with most of the colors being lightly faded. Looking at the uniform as a whole, it was definitely going to be too large on you. 

You thanked Deuce while he was walking away to the right side of the locker room, and then, you got moving. You observed the locker room to see if there were any bathrooms and to your luck, toward the back there was another door which led into the bathroom. You entered the next room to find no line and no one in the last stall. On your way to the stall, you passed up a bulky male with silver-white animal ears on his head in a yellow uniform who was washing his hands. You set foot in the final stall to only find the toilet flooded and writings all over the wall, causing you to let out a sigh and shut and lock the door just happy you did not have to use the restroom. 

Once dressed, you took your cloak and other clothes and walked out of the stall to wash your hands. Looking in the mirror was not on your to-do list, so you kept your eyes stuck on the faucet and your hands because the headache from the rat’s nest on your head and the slight pain from parts of your face gave you all the information you needed. You left the restrooms and found a deserted area where many lockers were empty. You threw your clothes in one of the middle lockers, closed it, and took account of the number of the locker. 

You left the locker room to see that you were one of the final people to get dressed and get out of the locker room. Grim, Ace, and Deuce were seated on the ground near the back of the group, and you made your way to them with many different eyes on you. 

The hulking man blew his whistle to get everyone in the class and started a speech, “I’m Vargas and I’m in charge of watching over your physical education.Excellent magic starts with excellent bodies! Behold…! These muscles that I train every day! A magician with no stamina is unspeakable! First, do 20 laps around the field! And then, 100 sit-ups!” He blew the whistle again and threw his pointer finger out the motion for you all to start your laps.

The three of you jumped up from your spot on the ground and slowly walked over to the track. 

Ace grimaced at the teacher, “Eh… I don’t hate exercise, but I can’t handle teachers like him.”

“I have confidence in my physical abilities,” Deuce had his hands on his hips and was twisting his torso around to stretch it. 

Grim shook his head, “What's so fun about running around? I’m not a hamster, yanno?”

You just sighed and joined the group of students starting to run. Ace, Deuce, Grim, and you slowly joined the middle of the group in a jog around the field. 

You were left pondering for a second about everything and anything and your mind went straight to how you could get out of the stuffy cloak because even if you did look like an adventurer you could not stand to wear it in the heat all the time. So you started up a conversation:

“Yo, Deuce,” You bumped arms with him, making Deuce’s eyes slowly drifted to your figure, “Do you know where I could get a school uniform? Is there like a store or something nearby?” 

Deuce contemplated your question for a couple of seconds until he snapped his fingers, “There is a shop on campus that has everything. We could stop there after school today.” 

���Well, that’s one thing covered,” Your feet were still in a constant jog, but they started to cramp in some areas, “I hope they have a clearance section.” 

The rest of PE was much more strenuous than you expected. This teacher thought that all of you were Olympic Athletes with all the work he is making you do, but looking at some of the students here (the green shirt-green haired fellow who is racing down the track whenever possible and the furry male who you saw in the bathroom earlier). Everyone was doing better than you. Even Grim. 

However, the exercises were soon over and you were all allowed to go back to the locker rooms and change. You were for now stuck lying on the ground wheezing from the physical activities you just completed in the past hour. Ace and Deuce went back to get changed and Grim is asleep on the grass behind you. 

“You okay?” A male’s voice could be heard from somewhere above you, but you were too drained to even move your eyes to see who it was. 

You groaned, “Don’t mind me. I’m just slowly decaying.” 

The male was speechless for a second and did not respond until your eyes fluttered open the slightest bit, “Do you want water? Or the nurse?” 

“No, oh gracious savior, but I’d rather you leave me here to be eaten by the birds.” You shut your eyes, listening to Grim groan besides you.

“Um...okay. Please get better,” The male’s footsteps could be heard walking away. 

You stayed there for about another hour in your head just trying to breathe in and out and maybe even fall asleep until a kick was landed on your side. 

“Get up, you lazy ass.” Ace was blessing you with his presence and his torment.

You hurled your body forward and up to grip Ace’s foot which was making its way to your side again, “Don’t you have a sense of common courtesy to not kick someone when they are dying?” 

“You aren’t dying, but you are wasting our break time.” Ace groaned and pulled his foot out of your grip, “So go get dressed.”

Rolling your eyes, you gathered yourself and stood up to make your way back to the changing rooms. You left Grim to be with Ace, so you hoped those two would not cause problems. The rest was a lack of oxygen and lack of water blur until you found your three idiots out in the hallway and began your track to your next class. You decided to take your time a little because you had a ten minute break before the next class. 

Deuce was looking around the hallways for the next class, “Let’s see, the next class is..”

Ace was pouting next to you, “For a magic school, it doesn’t really feel that much different from a normal school, huh… It’s a lot more… ordinary than I thought… Guess I don’t have to worry much even without magic.” His body shifted to turn to your side, “Dontcha think so, too, Grim? Hm…” 

You gazed at where Grim last was which was to the left of you and let your eyes focus and blink for a couple of seconds, “Are you fucking kiddin me?”

A gasp was heard from Deuce in front of you, “Look outside the window! That fluffball running in the Courtyard…” He pointed out Grim’s exact spot in the middle of the large area. 

Once you began your sprint to him, you could hear him cackling about how he did not deserve to listen to boring lectures all day. 

You stopped your run when you realized that you would never be able to make it farther due to PE kicking your butt, “If I have to go to school, then, so does he.”

Deuce and Ace were arriving right behind you.

Deuce crossed his arms, “Running away on the first day…” He shook his head, “That guy just doesn’t learn, huh.” 

“Being negligent on the first day, are we? So, d’ya want us to help you catch Grim?” A smirk bloomed on Ace’s face. 

You scrunched your nose, “If I have to be here, then so does he.”  threaded your hands together and squeezed your eyes shut and bowed, “Please, please help me.”

“I want some chocolate croissants from the canteen!” 

Deuce blurted in agreement, “Then, I shall have some café latte from the cafeteria.”

You rose from your bow, “Perfect, perfect. Thank yooou!!” not even thinking about how you were going to afford that. 

Ace and Deuce pulled their magic pens out of their pockets and joined each other in front of you to start their hunt for Grim. 

Ace smirked at Deuce, “And that’s a deal! Alright, shall we go help out our helpless prefect, Deuce-kun?”

Deuce narrowed his eyes and rolled back his sleeves of his jacket, “Sure thing, Ace-kun. I’m most looking forward to lunchtime.”

“I’ll be in the classroom once you catch him.” You waved the two off while they began their hunt for the cat. 

By the time you made it to your next class, the three showed up with sweat dripping from their faces, their clothes in disarray, and the teacher right behind them. 

This would surely be a great year.

[badwolf-winchester]

Ancient Bloodlines

Pairing: Loki x Emy Nightstar (OC)

OC Summary: Emy is the newest Avenger. She specializes in Magic and close range attacks/ weapons. Her heritage is unknown to her as she was left at an orphanage door step when she was a young girl with only the memory of her name. She goes by her nickname Emy but has never told anyone her full name as its a reminder of her being abandoned. Emy can see through any illusion and Magic no matter how powerful they are or how strong the magic is and is unaware of this. Her powers include Telekinesis, Elemental Control, True Sight (as stated above) Enhanced healing and Shifting (she wont discover this till much later in the story). She loves to read, listen to music, play violin, sing, and draw.

Story Info: Takes place after infinity wars. Tony and Natasha are alive Steven comes back from the future after giving back the infinity stones. Vision is alive and living with Wanda in the tower. Thor and Loki live in the tower with the rest of the Avengers and for the sake of the story Himedall is alive and living with the rest of the Asgardians on earth in New Asgard (you will find out why later)

One last thing: Please do not repost my work on any other site or social media, however reblogging on here is fine. I work hard on all of my fanfics and it’s disappointing when people take my work as their own. I am the creater of all my OCs such as Sora Nightstar, Emy Nightstar, and Lithium Nightstar. My inbox is open for any and all requests as i am a multi fandom writer. Let me know how you like the story and i will do my best to answer any and all questions. As always i encourage any and all feedback as it helps with my writing. I hope you all like it!

The Beginning

They say that your parents are there to teach you the rules of the world, but what happens when you have no parents? Who will teach you then? The world is cruel but people are crueler. Ive learned this first hand when the person i trusted most in this world left me on the door step of the St. Trinity’s Orphanage. I was 9 when my mother told me she didn’t want me anymore and i guess I couldn’t really blame her. I mean who could love someone who couldn’t control the powers that grew with each passing year. Someone who started fires out of thin air when they had nightmares, conjured whirlwinds when startled, unfurled earthquakes when angered, spring forth rain showers when sad, and levitate objects when riddled with anxiety. I will never forget that day for its seared into my mind like its own person brand echoing with every beat of my heart. A monster thats what she called me, her own flesh and blood was a monster in her eyes, and i could see the relief when she ran from the solid oak door finally rid of the burden she had to put up with throughout the years. An abomination she cried as she reached the cobblestone sidewalk eager to be rid of me and by the pace she was going at i could tell she had more spring in her step than on the walk over from the bus we exited from. Unnatural she bellowed as she disappeared around the corner a ghost of a smile springing from her lips as she disappeared. These where the last words i would ever hear from my mother, if thats what you would call her.

Emy’s POV

Tonight was just like any other. Crisp cold air submerged the city in a blanket of dark and silence while it settled into your bones. I never minded the cold in fact I welcomed it, it reminded me of the cabin i found one year after running away from one of the many abusive foster homes i was forced to stay with. I’ll admit it was one of the times I was able to avoid the social workers for longer than a week and the happiest I had ever been in my life up until i was captured by Hydra. When I had a flair up with my powers, which usually ended up being fire, i would immediately get sent back to St. Trinity’s but this time i ran before they had the chance to toss me aside. The staff there used to place bets on how long i would stay with a family, they would joke saying i was cursed or jinxed but i knew the truth, no one wanted me. Once the parents found out about my abilities I was sent packing. I was labeled as a flight risk and a danger to others which only deepened my anti socialism.

Walking through the streets of New York i pull my dark purple jacket on and my dark brown hair in a pony tail as I get closer to my destination. Because i don’t feel the effects of the cold weather Tony, being such the dad figure he is, has made it his priority to make sure i still wear one just incase so here i was walking home in black ripped up jeans, a black v neck T-shirt, black and purple checkered vans and a light weight dark purple jacket. With my headphones in my ears and “I like it heavy” by Halestorm blasting I make my way to the place i call home, Stark Tower. Walking through the front doors i make my way past the receptionist who always greets me with a bright smile. As I walk towards the elevator I give her a small smile back and a head nod. After entering the elevator and pressing the button for the penthouse I start to reflect on how i got here.

By the time i was 15 Hydra found me in that cabin and took me away. I went from hopping from family to family to being used as a science experiment, constantly being poked and prodded just so they could get a reaction out of me. As a child my powers where very unstable mostly flaring up with my emotions, its no wonder that Hydra caught wind of me its not like i was hiding it very well or more so that i couldn’t hide it. They tried to wipe my memory to gain control of me “a blank slate” is what they wanted, but for some reason, they failed as I wasn’t susceptible to their conditioning methods no matter how much time i spent in the chair. However, I could tell they were scared of me I could see it in their eyes. This didn’t last long though as they used what they called their perfect weapon code name Winter Soldier to beat me into submission. After that first meeting that left me with a broken arm and a fractured ankle i started to obey, since then Ive met the Soldier a couple of times but if he remembers me he dosent let on and I dont blame him, he has been in that chair so many times Im genuinely surprised he can even remember how to walk. He is stronger than the others as most of the other test subjects had turned to vegetables after the 4th mind wipe, he was on his 10th the last time i saw him with Hydra.

Another test was done on me and this one was different. They used a teseract? If thats what they called it I can’t be sure nor did I care all I could feel was pain like as if someone injected lava in my veins. After they injected me I started screaming after a while I couldn’t even hear myself anymore, my throat was so sore and horse from the constant roar of my agony I just wanted it to end. How long was I out for? Seconds? Minutes? Hours? Days? Years? They didn’t keep clocks there or at least not in the dungeon like cell they had me in. When the fire faded i was left with this numbness and after further tests I realized that I was immune to fire. I can literally stick my hand in fire and i will be left untouched and unscorched. They did the same test with freezing temperatures to see if they could subdue me at least in some way. I must have been out longer than just a couple of days as during the tests i didn’t recognize any of the Doctors. In that moment I realized something, if they were trying to contain me then something must have happened to the soldier. It was time to plan my escape.

Back in my cell i could hear footsteps approaching me and then stop short. One of the scientists frantically trying to talk some sense into someone just out of my line of sight. “She is immune to anything we throw at her sir. We have done every test we could there is nothing left for us to do.” One of the goons in a lab coat stated to what i assumed is a higher up. “Bolden If her powers keep growing at the rate they are it could be days in which she will be unstoppable and with the soldier gone we dont have anything that can keep her in line. She broke Mandy and Rays arms the last time we tested her. She is getting too strong.” Brining a hand up to his chin the higher up Bolden stepped out of the shadows and looked at me with deep interest before he turned to looked at the man and scoffed. As he walked away i felt a cold chill ran down my back as I anticipated what was to become of me; I knew it was nothing good i had already broken their rules. His next words only confirmed what I feared. “ Its simple. Break her spirit or kill her Doctor. And when i say break her i mean in anyway means necessary.” His sadistic laugh is the last thing i remember before everything went black.

Its been 2 years since i have escaped and now I’m living in the avengers tower. I don’t remember what happened after that night in my cell its all a blur of red, screams, and gunshots. When i woke up next i was in a 6ft crater where I was being held captive without a scratch on me. Trees were uprooted and fallen over as if a bomb went off. Luckily the Avengers showed up not long after me waking up and took me to their base where i met Directer Fury. With his permission and 24/7 surveillance provided by Tony Stark via FRIDAY and training sessions to get my powers under control i was allowed to join the Avengers and fight for good. Little did i know that by agreeing to this I would end up in the path of a certain God or Gods who were also taking residence at the tower.

With the sound of a *ding* the elevator shook me out of my mind and back to the present. As i exited the elevator I pulled my head phones out of my ears and was instantly met with the sound of Tony losing his mind. “Where did she go? She knows she can’t be out this late. She could be taken again! Its 5 minutes past her curfew!” Rolling my eyes I roll my headphones up and shove them in my pocket and round the corner. “Tony it takes 5 minutes to get from the lobby to the penthouse calm down. I bet she will walk through that door anytime now.” Came the sweet voice of reason of none other than Pepper Potts. “I’m Home.” I said in a deadpan voice as i walked by the couple only for Tony to stand up and intercept me by placing a hand on my upper arm. “Where did you go and why didn’t you tell me you were leaving?” I looked at him and raised an eyebrow pushing his hand off me. “Tony its Wednesday. I have training with Strange on Wednesdays and I had Friday alert you as I was leaving but you were in the lab with Bruce.” Not sure what to say next Tony mumbled a small apology. “Sorry I was just worried about you. I know you are grown enough to make your own choices as you are 25 but I just want to make sure you are safe. How was the training with The Wizard?” Sighing and shaking my head just wanting to go the library and read I decided to just let it go. “Strange is a hard ass that much you already know. It wasnt bad actually I think I’m warming up to him. I didn’t spontaneously throw him to the wall when he snuck up behind me as i was going over the ancient texts so i call that improvement.” I said sheepishly while side stepping around him. “I’m gonna go to the library now and grab some light reading before bed you guys have a good night.” With out waiting for a response I quickly made my way towards my new destination only to have Tony saying something about guests in the house but I ignored him.

Pushing open the library door I make my way to the poetry section to grab my usual copy of Edgar Allen Poe that I read before bed. As my had reached for the spot i knew i put the book in i find that its not there. “Wait what? Where is my book? I know I put it back here before I left for training so where did it go?” Frustrated I stomp back over to the entrance and rip open the door ready to go on a murder spree while shouting down the hallway. “CLINT! You better give me back my night time book or I’m breaking all your arrows again! No one reads in this tower but me! How stupid do you think I am!?” Straining my ears I listen for any type of movement but was met with dead silence. After a minute I finally hear movement through the vents coming from the west part of the tower and I take off sprinting. Sliding around a corner I barely miss colliding with Steve and Bucky who look like they were on their way back from a mission. Offering a quick apology before I continue my pursuit I hear Steve yell “Hey! No running in the tower!” Not faltering in my hot pursuit of the Hawk thief I continue to zip through the tower ignoring the Captains words until i was almost to the vent that lead to the 2 level family room. Using the railing for the steps leading down to the family area to give me more height i jumped as close to the vent as possible and conjured my signature Scythe to slice through it while twisting in the air kicking the vent free and off its track. A shocked and terrified scream resonates from the vent as the culprit falls to the ground with a thud and a grunt. I landed in a crouched position and slowly straightened to my full hight. “What the hell Emy?! When did you learn to do that?!” Clint yells as he sits up rubbing his left shoulder that he landed on. I started stalking towards him with the blade of my scythe scrapping across the ground as i went while giving him a death glare. “Give me back my book Barton.” At the mention of his last name his head snapped up to me fear replacing the pain from his fall. “Oh shit last name not good.” Scrambling up on his feet he turns and runs towards the common room that connects to the elevator with me hot on his tail and my scythe trailing behind me in my right hand.

“Shit shit shit shit shit shit SHIT!!” He yells as he makes it fully to the room only to fling forward as i jump and kick his back tired of all the running. Twirling my weapon around I place it at his neck sneering at him. “I will not ask you again.” I said placing pressure on his neck with my blade. Sensing a fast moving object coming from my left from the kitchen I move my head back 3 inches as what looked like a hammer flew by me embedding itself in the wall. Turning my head slowly in the direction of the flying object, I confirmed it was indeed a hammer that was thrown at me. Irritation flared through me as i released Clint from the end of my scythe and turned fully to the kitchen to face my attacker. There stood 2 men that i did not recognize, one tall oak of a man with blond short hair, blue eyes and tan skin in blue jeans, a red T-shirt ,and grey jacket. the other shorter man made me stare at him and faultier for a second as he was so different from anyone i have ever seen, dark blue skin covered his entire body with darker almost black symbols and piercing red eyes, long black hair with black jeans, a green dress shirt and black jacket. Tearing my gaze away from his own curious one i looked between both men before i clenched my jaw letting my irritation settle back in. “Which one of you threw that hammer.” I said venom dripping with every word. “Whoa its ok Emy thats just Thor and Loki they are the asgardian Gods that live here in the tower part time when they are not in Norway.” Clint said standing up quickly. Not moving from my position i narrowed my eyes and flicked them over in Clint’s direction. The ground started to shake as my irritation and annoyance grew to anger remembering what i was doing before being interrupted by the Gods. Throwing his hands up in surrender he then quickly reached into his back pocket and retrieved my book. “Ok ok dont blow a fuse Em.” He said while tossing me my possession stopping me from causing an earthquake. Catching it in the air with my left had I inspected the book to make sure it wasn’t damaged before I let go of my scythe, with a wave of my hand it disappeared back to the pocket dimension I keep it in then looked back at Clint as the tremors stopped. “Touch my things again and i will be wearing your guts like my mom’s pashmina.” I said to the thief before walking out of the room and disappeared down the hallway not giving the Gods a second glance. As I entered my room i could hear a silky voice ring out from the kitchen. “Well isnt she interesting.”

Part 2 coming soon

@nickkie1129

[rkived]

drabble #5: the highlight of the day for pediatricsurgeon!jungkook is when generalsurgeon!reader stops by his office with his daily iced americano. except today, someone else has delivered it for him.

or, in which you should be a little more careful to who you tell jungkook’s coffee preferences. (hospitalplaylist!au)

↩ previous | 📍drabbles masterlist

Jungkook likes iced americano. 

He’s not really an avid coffee drinker. Definitely not one of those ‘don’t talk to me until I’ve had my coffee’ sort of people, but he does like to drink an iced americano once a day. 

Not because he needs it to survive, but because it’s become part of his daily routine ever since he started working at the hospital. 

A routine you had started for him and that still to this day you continued to feed. 

He can’t complain. 

One of his highlights of the day is when you pop by into his office, whether it be announced or out of the blue, with an iced americano for him. 

He doesn’t even have to ask for one, you just always bring it to him. 

And on the days you can’t bring him his coffee, he just doesn’t drink it. As if there’s no purpose to go down to the hospital’s coffee shop and buy one for himself, because where’s the fun in that if it doesn’t come from you?

But today, surprisingly enough, Jungkook is drinking an iced americano that was not given by you. 

Instead, first year intern Lee Heeyoung was the provider this time. 

And it’s not unusual for interns and residents to give out small gifts to their superiors. Actually, when Jungkook used to be the favorite doctor around, it wasn’t a surprise when someone would shyly knock on his office door and bring a pastry or a drink from the coffee shop, a token of admiration and sometimes as a way to ask a small favor from the pediatrician.

Thing is, no one had ever brought him an iced americano before. 

Maybe because the pediatrician doesn’t seem like the type to drink one or because he always had his in the privacy of his office away from curious eyes, usually the only witnesses around for that were you and Taehyung.

First year intern Heeyoung had come into his office, a shy look on her face and Jungkook had to practically beg her to come in and his eyes widened slightly at the iced americano she was holding on her trembling hand, which Jungkook figured out was due to the coldness of the drink. 

She apologized for interrupting his free time and he assured her it was alright, then she took a deep breath and said:

‘‘Dr. Jeon, I don’t want to cross boundaries but I was wondering if, maybe, you could give me the opportunity to go into the O.R next time you have an operation. I know that interns usually don’t get to go in, but I just wanted to see if you would allow me to─’’

Then, Jungkook interrupted her.

‘‘Of course you can, Heeyoung.’’ 

And after she thanked him a dozen times with the biggest smile, she placed the cup of iced americano over his desk as she explained it was a way of thanking him, whether or not he complied to her request. 

She left shortly after, apologizing for the interruption once again and leaving before Jungkook could tell her there was no problem. 

The pediatrician stared at the drink in his desk and wondered what a coincidence it was that this is the one she decided to give him. 

He shrugged his shoulders and sipped the coffee anyway. 

Jungkook’s just about done with the drink when his office’s door opens suddenly, almost making him choke with the liquid in his throat. 

This is how he can tell the difference between an intern or resident with his friends. 

‘‘Oh! Kook, I’m so sorr─’’ 

Your apology at the notice of your coughing friend with an almost done iced americano on his hand makes you stop abruptly. 

Why is he holding an iced americano when you are holding his on your hand? 

Jungkook quickly recovers from his coughing fit and pouts at you ‘‘I’m going to have to start asking you guys to knock before coming in.’’ 

You completely ignore his comment and focus on the cup in his hand. The coffee cup holder you’re carrying feels heavy and…awkward. 

‘‘I didn’t know you went down for coffee,’’ you say with the softest voice possible, concealing whatever confusion you felt ‘‘you could’ve told me.’’

Your coffee cup felt lonely. Usually, you only bought Jungkook’s, but today you decided that you’d make him some company, buying yourself an iced americano as well. 

You didn’t even like the drink, but since Jungkook enjoys it you’d make a small sacrifice. 

Now you have two iced americanos and they don’t look appealing enough to force yourself to drink them. 

‘‘Oh, I didn’t buy this,’’ he clarifies and you look back at him with a raised eyebrow ‘‘one of the interns gave it to me. Lee Heeyoung, you’ve seen her?’’.

There’s a glint of annoyance in your eyes, but you quickly turn to look somewhere else before Jungkook can notice. 

Oh, you’ve seen Lee Heeyoung. 

More importantly, you saw Lee Heeyoung earlier that day when she casually asked you during the waiting line at the hospital’s cafeteria what was your favorite drink to order at the coffee shop.

‘‘Well, I usually go for a latte.’’ you answer with a small smile, it was hard to decide what your favorite drink was, but lattes were your go-to most of the time. 

‘‘Oh, I like that too!’’ she commented and you nodded, turning back around figuring the conversation was over. ‘‘And doctor, do you know what Dr. Jeon’s favorite drink is?’’ she shyly asked, making you turn around again. 

You gave her a quizzical look, but her face displayed nothing but innocence. 

‘‘He likes iced americano.’’ you answered and she nodded as if she had correctly grasped the information you had given her. 

‘‘Thank you, Dr. I won’t bother you any further.’’ she smiled.

You know you shouldn’t feel bothered by this because it’s not strange to receive stuff like that from interns and residents alike. You had gotten plenty of drinks and pastries given to you by the younger interns before.

But it just doesn’t sit right with you that your best friend had practically finished the drink you, and no else but you, have always brought him. 

‘‘Y/N?’’ he calls you over, noticing how you hadn’t answered his question about whether or not you knew Heeyoung. He notices the two drinks sitting on the table ‘‘I can still drink one of those─’’

‘‘No.’’ 

Jungkook is taken aback by your stern tone, he usually only hears it when he’s being scolded by something he did. But Jungkook’s sure he hasn’t done anything wrong. 

Right?

You instantly notice how angry that simple answer came out and you clear your throat ‘‘I mean─no. I bought this for, uhm,’’ you quickly try to think of any of your friends ‘‘Taehyung! Yeah, Taehyung.’’

You’re trying to convince yourself here because the neurosurgeon hates iced americano. He’s more of a cappuccino guy. Also, you’ve never bought Taehyung a drink before. 

‘‘Taehyung?’’ Jungkook asks, surprise hinting in his tone because he can’t believe that. ‘‘Taehyung is scheduled for surgery all night,’’ Jungkook informs you ‘‘and he doesn’t like iced americano, he always makes fun of me for drinking it.’’ 

Oh, right. 

You fake a cough ‘‘Really?’’

Jungkook nods and his gaze is entirely focused on you, waiting to see if you show any signs of this being a total prank. You’re never this oblivious. 

‘‘I didn’t know.’’ you fake chuckle and Jungkook’s head tilts.

If Jungkook knows you as well as he usually tells his other friends he does, he’d realize you’re lying and your facade is slowly fading away. And you’re hoping he does call you out because you’re definitely not bringing it up first. 

But instead, he shrugs his shoulders and decides that he won’t prod any further. 

“Did I tell you that Jin came by a few hours ago?” 

Jungkook changed the topic, retelling how your plastic surgeon friend had come down from his office for what felt like forever. And it was big news, considering Jin rarely leaves his office to exchange pleasantries, but you’re too focused on that damn cup now placed in his desk.

Mocking you with its emptiness, reminding you that Jungkook had drinked it without any second thought.

“He kept shifting in his seat, it was so funny,” Jungkook laughs “I told him not all of us had the privilege of having a leather couch imported from—”

The pediatrician is interrupted by you suddenly grabbing the plastic cup and throwing it in the garbage bin beside his desk. He’s rendered speechless by your action as you heaved with anger. 

“I was gonna throw that out later.” Jungkook mutters as you dust your hands in your lab coat. 

“Your welcome.” you mumble

A silence follows after and it’s not like the ones you usually both have. It’s not comfortable or peaceful, but filled with tension instead. 

“Is everything okay?” he asks carefully, not wanting to push any buttons since it seems you’re a moment away from yelling in frustration.

You don’t do that, however, you do look at him like you’re about to give him a piece of your mind and poor Jungkook is not ready for that at all. 

But you sigh. You close your eyes momentarily as you breathe in again. 

“Nothing.” you answer back with a smile that doesn’t quite reach your eyes “Everything’s peachy.” 

Please call me out, please call me out on my bullshit.

“Alright, Y/N.” he sighs, hand scratching the side of his head “But can I—”

He’s not allowed to finish his request because you dump the two drinks you had bought inside his garbage bin without any further announcement. 

Jungkook is left with his mouth hanging open as he looks at the wasted coffee probably making a mess inside the bin. 

“I gotta go, I’m needed in the E.R.”

You’re not. Your phone didn’t ring with the usual tone you have set it up as whenever you have emergency calls. 

Jungkook is about to tell you that, but the shock of the drinks dies down by the time the door closes and he’s realized you’ve left.

— 

“Ah, fuck, not you again.” 

Taehyung has just finished his six hour surgery. Fresh off of telling the patient’s family members that everything had gone according to plan, but that the patient was to be kept in the I.C.U for further checkups. 

His neck hurts and he’s wishing he could have Yoonah come over to give him a massage. Instead, he’s greeted by the sight of his youngest friend waiting for him at his desk’s chair.

“Why haven’t you gone home? It’s late.” Taehyung asks him, laying down on his couch as he closes his eyes.

Due to his patient being in the intensive care unit, he chooses not to go home and stay in case anything happens. He knows this because of prior experience.

“I want to ask you something.” Jungkook quietly asks, ignoring his friend’s question.  

Taehyung hums “If this is about that boneless wings or regular wings discourse then I don’t wanna hear it.” his friend warns him.

If this wasn’t a serious matter Jungkook would have argued that regular wings are better than boneless ones, unlike what Yoongi had said on the groupchat last night. But he has more important topics to ask about right now.

“No, it’s not that,” he clarifies “I just—I want to know, since you’re the only one who’s dating in the group…” 

“Yeah?” Taehyung encourages him to continue.

“How—uhm, how do you tell when Yoonah’s jealous?”

Jungkook’s question is not one Taehyung had expected, it makes him abruptly switch from laying down to a sitting position. This is actually serious for once.

“Jealous, how? Like, when she’s jealous of other girls?” Taehyung asks, just to make sure this is what his younger friend is referring to. 

Jungkook nods with a stoic expression.

“Well, Yoonah is slightly different in the way she approaches jealousy. Like, with the other girls I dated they would never tell me they were jealous.” Taehyung begins to explain “But Yoonah, on the other hand, she’s up-front about it and like, aggressively so.” 

“Could you explain?” Jungkook shyly asks and Taehyung nods.

“Let’s say that Yoonah sees me talking to—I don’t know, a nurse? I might be having a normal conversation regarding a patient or something, but Yoonah sees it as if I’m telling the girl that I want to move in with her, have five kids and live on a farm.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah,” Taehyung chuckles “and she tells me straight away that she doesn’t like the girl, that she doesn’t trust them and that I shouldn’t be talking to her.” Jungkook’s eyes widen slightly “I don’t know, she says she has a sixth sense or something.”

“But she tells you she’s jealous?” 

“Oh, hell no,” Taehyung replies “Yoonah would rather eat glass shards than ever admitting she’s jealous.” 

That must hurt.

“But I just know, y’know?” 

Jungkook looks at him like he’s lost and Taehyung sighs. Sometimes the youngest could be a little too slow for his liking.

“It’s clear when a girl is jealous, dude. Whether they try to make it obvious or not. They get defensive, evade your questions, get a little more irritable.” 

Jungkook gasps slightly and Taehyung cocks an eyebrow at him, wondering what is the matter. But the pediatrician is not telling him anything, especially knowing Taehyung’s a fifth placer who isn’t worthy of knowing information as important as this.

Plus he’s tired of hearing the neurosurgeon bother him with the fact that after all those hypotheticals that Jungkook was sure were never going to happen, they ended up becoming a reality. 

A reality that Jungkook had to put up with because his older friend could not shut up about it.

“I gotta go, thanks.” The youngest quickly excuses himself from Taehyung’s office, leaving the neurosurgeon with a puzzled expression and a few unanswered questions.

There’s a slight bounce to Jungkook’s step as he walks through the hospital’s hallways. 

He’s trying hard not to break into a grin, but he can’t help the slight smirk that appears on his face because now he knows.

a/n: let’s play a fun lil game in where u take a shot every time i mentioned iced americano n yes u should take another one now !! lol i don’t rlly have much to say besides jk n reader r both idiots but we’re making some progress :P hope u enjoyed <3

[excelsi-or]

your type (pt. 5)

Hello friends! It's been a while. Personally, so much has been going on, but I'm back with a new part of this story. This one is a bit longer.

I hope you're all well and staying safe and wearing your masks.

w.c. 2.2k

pairing: jihoon x OC/reader

pt. 1; pt. 2; pt. 3; pt. 4

The day Jihoon gets her number is unexpected. Jihoon has accepted that she won’t give it to him, so with every goodbye, he arranges new plans to see her. She seems surprised each time, but she agrees. However, with the semester coming to an end, she’s become more elusive.

“I have to be in lab all this week. We have final presentations coming up,” she tells him on their last date.

Jihoon has been at it for two months and the boys are surprised at how slow it’s going. He’s told them multiple times that she’s forcing him to go slow. She refuses to let herself even like him a little more than she already did. Every time he makes a move, she ducks around it. He’s stopped trying to kiss her, mostly because every time she gets away from him hurts his ego a little.

This text surprises him.

Jihyo (17:34)

0XX-XXXX-XXXX

Can you just make sure she eats? She’s not answering any of my messages to come home.

Jihoon (17:34)

Why me?

Jihyo (17:34)

I think she might listen to you.

Jihoon hesitates for a moment before calling. It rings, once, twice, three times.

“Hello?”

“Hey.”

He can hear the confusion in her voice. “Who is this?”

“Jihoon.”

“Annnnnnd I’m hanging up now.”

The line goes dead. Jihoon stares at his phone in disbelief.

Jihoon (17:37)

Jihyo sent me your number.

Apparently you’re not responding to her.

What do you want to eat? I’ll bring it to you.

He doesn’t get any response. So, he tucks his hair under his hat and leaves the studio. There isn’t much food choice on campus, but he heads to the cafeteria to pick up something for both of them. Takeout bag in hand, he heads towards the science buildings. It’s a lot bigger than his building, and as soon as he’s in it, the white walls are intimidating.

Seulgi, a girl he’d slept with once, tilts her head when she sees him. “What are you doing here?”

Jihoon ignores the accusatory tone. “Do you know where the chemistry research lab is?”

Her brow furrows. “Third floor. Room 380 or something.”

“Thanks.”

Jihoon ducks into the stairwell and climbs up to the third floor. When he steps out, he recognizes Kihyun from a few parties walking by. “Do you know where the chemistry research lab is?”

Kihyun looks over at him and recognition crosses his features. “Yeah.” He points down the hallway. “It’s right before the skywalk that connects to the biology building.”

“Biology has whole building?” Jihoon asks in disbelief.

Kihyun laughs. “Yeah, man. Every science department does. Do you need me to walk you there?”

“It’d be helpful.”

Kihyun turns around from wherever he was originally going. He glances at the bag of food. “You got a new girlfriend?”

“Let’s say I’m trying.”

“Who?”

Jihoon offers her name.

Kihyun’s brow furrows. “Sejeong’s friend?”

“That’s her.”

“You better be careful with her,” Kihyun warns. “Those girls are protective of her. Haven’t you heard about Jo Byunggyu?”

Jihoon shakes his head. “Who’s that?”

“Her boyfriend after Jungkook.”

Jihoon assumes that that’s the guy she refuses to talk about. He’s brought it up a few more times, but she won’t even tell him the guy’s name. Apparently, it’s news.

“There are so many rumours about what her friends did to him. Castrated, murdered, hit and run, trashed his apartment, threatened him. Whatever they actually did to him,” Kihyun shakes his head in dismay, “he stopped going here.”

Jihoon frowns. “What?”

“So, tread carefully. Those girls can make you disappear.” They slow in front of two doors. Music drifts out of one of them. “Here you go.” He points to his right. “Inorganic chemistry research.” And to the door across the way. “Analytical chem.” He motions further down towards a few more doors. “All of those are the organic chemistry research labs.”

Jihoon has no idea which one she’s in. “Thanks.”

Kihyun backs away the way they’d come. “See you at Chanyeol’s tomorrow night?”

Jihoon nods. “Yeah. Should be there.”

“Man’s finally graduating and he’s throwing the biggest party ever,” Kihyun sings.

Jihoon peers through the glass window of the lab closest to him. He remembers her saying something about hydrogen when he’d asked about her research. And there was something about catalysts.

He manages to catch the attention of someone in the lab; a girl he recognizes but can’t place.

The girl opens the door. “Yeah?”

He explains why he’s there.

“Oh.” The girl gives him a once over. “Yeah, I’ll get her.”

“Hey, Lee Jihoon is standing outside asking about you,” Chaeyoung says.

She stops what she’s doing for only a second. “Okay, thanks.” She finishes swirling the vial in front of her eyes, only growing more frustrated when the stuff still doesn’t dissolve. She nudges her glasses a bit higher on her face and then glances over at Chaeyoung who hasn’t moved. “Something else?”

“Are you dating Jihoon?”

“Dating?” She shakes her head. “Jihyo’s been seeing Seungcheol, so we’ve been hanging out more.” She’s about to get back to work but pauses. “Why?”

“Just…” Chaeyoung seems like she’s going to stop herself and decides against it. “I’d just be careful around him.”

“Jihoon?” She scoffs. “I’m well aware.

Chaeyoung continues. “He’s good at being nice, but he’ll 180 you just as quickly. He really embodies that saying ‘Treat them mean, keep them keen’.”

She puts the vial down and leans her hip against her workbench. “When did you date him?”

Chaeyoung sighs. “Last year. We met at a party and dated for a few months. Then he suddenly ghosted me.” She looks up to the ceiling as if asking for strength. “He didn’t even ghost me. I went up to him one day to ask him something and he said, ‘I’m ignoring you now. Please go away.’”

That surprises her. She’d heard about Jihoon’s tsundere vibe, but never to what extent. “Wow. Thanks for the warning.”

Chaeyoung nods. “I just… I know we didn’t date for that long, but that last encounter really stung. I don’t want to see someone else getting hurt because of him.”

“Seriously. Thank you.”

Chaeyoung pats the bench twice before walking off.

She thinks a moment before taking her gloves off and checking her phone. She sees the messages from Jihoon and Jihyo. She also notices the time and realizes she’s been in the lab for 8 hours. After cleaning up her station, she heads to the door and slips out of her lab coat.

Jihoon is standing in the hallway on his phone with a bag of food in his hand.

“Hey.” She pulls her hair out of its bun. “So… food?”

Jihoon holds the paper bag up and finishes whatever he’s doing on his phone. He pockets it. “You got time to eat?”

“Give me a second?”

Jihoon nods. “Sure. Not like the food’s getting cold or anything.”

She knows he’s joking, but after what Chaeyoung said, it hurts a little. She heads into the student office and collects her things. She also changes back into the dress she’d worn to school, shrugging her cardigan on as she steps back out.

Jihoon gives her a once over. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you in a dress before.”

She hums. “Too easy to flip at a party.” She eyes his hands. “You better keep your hands away from me.”

Jihoon holds his free hand up. “I wouldn’t dare.”

They wander down the hallway towards the skywalk. There are a few couches that look out on the green rather than the parking lot on the other side. She sits first, setting her backpack on the side table, and tucks one leg underneath her so she can turn towards him. Jihoon distributes the food, handing her a burger and putting the fries between them. There’s a Coke bottle inside the bag, which he puts on the floor near their feet.

“You okay?” he asks as he opens the box of his burger.

“Okay?” She’s already taken a bite.

“You had a look on your face.”

“Ah.” She shakes her head. “Spent 8 hours trying to dissolve my compound in every solvent in the lab. Still won’t dissolve.” She tries a smile. “Guess I’m just frustrated.” It’s only half a lie.

Jihoon thinks he understands what she’s saying. “So… now what?”

She picks up a fry. “There’s one solvent I’ve been avoiding because it makes me want to gag, but it might work. I’ll have to try it tomorrow.”

“When’s your presentation?”

“Next week, so I’m hoping that I can finish up as much as I can this week.”

“Do you just forget to eat when you’re in lab?”

She chuckles. “Normally, no. But with a deadline, I guess time just got away from me. When the music’s playing and I can’t really see any windows from my bench,” she shrugs, “it’s easy to lose track of time.”

“Sounds like me in the studio.”

“Were you in the studio? I hope you didn’t come all the way from your place to bring me food.”

Jihoon snorts. “I would not have brought you cafeteria food if I had come from home. I have a final project to finish before the end of exam week.”

She hasn’t asked to visit him in the studio. One of the things girls seem to find appealing is his ability to make music. Most of them ask if they can listen or visit him. If they’re really brazen, they ask if he’s written songs about them.

Jihoon can’t help but wonder what she thinks.

“Do you want to see it?”

“See what?” She digs around for a ketchup packet in the bag.

“The studio.”

She glances up at him before going back to her task. “To see what exactly?” A smile breaks out when she comes up with three ketchup packs. She breaks open two of them and squeezes them into the lid of her burger box.

“I don’t know.”

She chuckles. “Is that one of your moves? Bring a girl to the studio? Have sex in the studio?”

Jihoon throws his head back with a laugh. “I can’t say I’ve ever had sex in there.” He tips his head and chews thoughtfully. “If the doors locked, I would. The soundproof walls would be perfect.” He catches her eye. “But no, it’s not one of my moves. Girls just seem to like to visit me there. Or want to hear the music or something.”

She dips a fry in the ketchup. “That makes it sound as if you don’t invite them there.”

“They usually ask.”

“Should I have asked?”

“I get this vibe that you only ask questions you want to know the answers to. So I’m assuming that applies to asking if you can visit me in the studio.”

This makes her laugh. “What do you even have to show me? It’s not as if you’d show me works in progress.”

Jihoon’s head snaps in her direction at that. “How do you know?”

Her eyebrows rise in surprise at his reaction. “Well… when I paint, I don’t want people to see things until they’re finished. Then I can gauge if it’s good enough to show.” She pops a fry into her mouth. “I’d assume that you’re the same, right?”

Jihoon lightly pushes her and then points. “Exactly!”

Grinning, she continues, “So, I would’ve been surprised if you even wanted me in your studio.”

Jihoon throws his free hand up in the air. “Wow. Yes. I rescind my invite.”

She nudges him with her arm. “Totally fine. Means I can go home early.”

“I’ll walk you home.”

She waves her hand over him. “You don’t have your bag or your coat.”

“You can come to the studio with me and then I’ll walk you home.”

She shakes her head. “Completely unnecessary. The sun’s only just started setting. It’ll be up until I get home.”

Jihoon looks her directly in the eye and takes a bite of his burger. She rolls her eyes. “Right, you don’t take no for an answer.”

“I’m glad you’re learning.”

There’s a pause in the conversation. In that time, three professors walk by and greet her. Someone who must be her supervisor stops to ask her about research. They talk chemicals and compounds that Jihoon only vaguely understands. There’s something about electrons and withdrawing. Nitro groups?

Jihoon stops listening after a while. He doesn’t say anything until her supervisor walks away.

“People know you in the science department.”

She picks up the napkin that she’d been folding in her lap and drops it into the bag. “I’m a fourth year. Don’t a lot of professors know their students by fourth year?”

“Mine do, but the science department is a lot bigger than my tiny music department.”

She rolls her eyes. “The chemistry department here is pretty small. The ecology professors know who I am.” She gauges his expression and shakes her head. “Boring science stuff.”

Jihoon used to agree. “How long have you liked science?”

There’s a pause before she admits, “I can’t say I really like it that much anymore.”

“What do you mean?”

She hums as she sips on the Coke he offers. “I didn’t really know what I wanted to do, but decided on science because ‘that’s where the money is’.” She rolls her eyes. She’s quoting someone; he wonders who. “Now, it’s just kinda too late to switch degrees.”

“What would you rather be doing?”

“Well… if we’re being honest, just not in school. But here we are.”

“Here we are,” he echoes. He can’t imagine being in school for something he didn’t love to do. If he weren’t into music, he probably wouldn’t have done university at all.

“But ecology is interesting. Plants and fungi are great. I’d love to do something in conservation.”

“Yet you do chemistry research?”

“Chemistry is just more for fun,” she laughs. She licks her bottom lip. “What about you? Why music?”

“I’m bad at expressing myself like this,” he waves his hand back and forth between them, “but I can put everything I want to say in song. And hide meanings in the lyrics.”

She studies him. “You know I’m going to ask.”

Jihoon juts his chin in her direction to encourage her to continue.

“Have you written a song about any girls you’ve dated?”

Jihoon snorts. “No. I haven’t.”

“Women you’ve slept with?”

He laughs harder. “Maybe not any of them specifically, but definitely the experiences.”

“So… how many women have you slept with?”

“Why… would you want to know that?”

“I’m under the assumption that you’re seeing other girls besides me,” she explains. “So, what are your numbers like?”

Jihoon does typically see multiple girls at a time, but the amount of effort he’s had to put in with her means he hasn’t had time to meet anyone else. “Well… I can’t count how many girls it is, but at the moment, you’re the only one I’m seeing.”

She tips her head. “You’ve been with so many girls that you can’t even count them?”

“Last year, I was seeing 5-6 different girls a month, 12 months a year…”

“60 minimum last year,” she answers. “And how many this year?”

“Well, January, and then we met halfway through February.” Jihoon shrugs. “4.”

“Me included?”

“Including you is 5.” He reads her expression, the question of why she’s the only one all over her face. “We’re being honest, right?”

“Yes…”

“I’ve had to put a lot of time into you.” He sucks some of the sauce off his thumb. “Maybe I’m intrigued by what your idea of love is.”

She chuckles and motions between them as she bends over to drop her burger box into the paper bag. “This is not what I think it should feel like.”

“So, what should it feel like then?”

“If you’ve never loved someone, Jihoon, I really can’t explain.”

“What about your relationship with Jungkook was so good that you guys can still be friends?”

She snorts. “Oh god. Jungkookie and I couldn’t be friends for a year after we broke up. But,” she shrugs, “his existence was just good for me. Complimented the life I was living, didn’t make it difficult to know what he was thinking. We were honest with our feelings, honest right until the end about where we stood in the relationship.”

Jihoon wonders if all relationships feel like that. “And your relationship after him?”

She rolls her eyes and turns away from him. She digs around for her water bottle and takes a swig. “Yeah, right. You won’t get that out of me.”

“I heard that your friends castrated him.”

Her laugh is hard and sharp, nothing like the other laughs he’s gotten out of her before. “I don’t know what happened to him, honestly. The girls never told me. I heard everything through the grapevine.”

“So… he’s not… dead?”

She shrugs.

Jihoon’s stomach clenches.

“If you’re insistent on walking me home, should we grab your stuff?” she asks, changing the subject entirely.

Jihoon packs up his garbage and picks up the Coke. He opens the cap, hears the fizz, and then takes a few sips. “Why do you not like to talk about him? You won’t even tell me his name.”

“He was important to me, but I… underestimated him. Let’s leave it at that.” Her back is to him, as she bends over to grab her bag. “Please stop asking about him.”

Now that he knows that other people know about Byunggyu, he doesn’t have to pry as much. Someone else must know what actually happened to the man. So, Jihoon agrees not to ask anymore.

[ravenforce]

Stark Legacy 6

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Carol Danvers x Wanda Maximoff x Maria Hill x Reader but Natasha Romanoff x Reader centric for this chapter.

Summary: I have no words to summarize this one. I feel like this is a whole story on it’s own. Nat x Reader, with a few flashbacks.

Word Count: 4207

A/N: Please, let me know what you guys think. I poured my heart into this, Idk why I tend to do that whenever I write for Natasha. HAHA. Also, I deviated a little bit on the coma/death arc for the reader, sorry.

Previously: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5

***

Natasha walks inside the gym a little later than she normally would and fully expecting her blonde girlfriend to be there since she didn’t wake up with her on the bed either. To her surprise, Carol’s not there too. She shrugged and went on her gym routine with a furrowed brow. The next day, without even meaning to, Nat woke up to Carol trying (unsuccessfully) to silently slip off Wanda’s embrace and off their massive bed. Nat gave her girlfriend a good fifteen minutes head start before tailing her. 

Nat tried not to think ahead but Nat being Nat, she was still prepared for all possible outcomes but out of all the scenarios she thought Carol would drive to, she never - not even once - thought that she’s driving to SHIELD Headquarters. Nat’s eyebrows furrowed while waiting a few blocks away for Carol to be cleared to enter the premises. She knows for a fact that Carol’s not due for her weekly meeting with Fury because they all maintain a synchronized calendar to keep track of everyone’s schedule. 

“What are you up to, Danvers?” she whispered to herself. 

Nat sat on the parking lot for another ten minutes before following Carol inside. Nobody in their right mind would ever question why she was there even without an appointment. Natasha went through the command center to see if Deputy Director Hill is on her station but, she too wasn’t anywhere to be found. 

What is going on? Where is everyone? She thought to herself while walking along a deserted hallway. When she rounded the corner, she roughly bumped into someone. The deep frown on her face was immediately erased when she saw who she bumped into. 

“There you are!”

“You’re here too?”

They spoke at the same time. Nat chuckled for a second before registering what Maria had said. Before she can ask, Maria spoke first. 

“Does the Earth mightiest heroes have nothing better to do on their free days than loiter around here?” Maria teased before pulling Nat for a quick hug. 

“I don’t loiter -” Nat grumbled on her girlfriend’s shoulder. When they pulled apart, Maria’s sporting a teasing smile. Nat rolled her eyes playfully. “I am not loitering. I’m looking for Carol.”

“Yeah, she’s here,” Maria confirmed while tucking a stray red hair out of Nat’s face. Nat bit her lip in an attempt to keep herself from blushing at the softness her girlfriend’s showing. 

”Didn’t she just met with Nick yesterday? What’s her business here today?”

At the mention of Fury’s name, Maria stiffened as she remembered that she’s already running late to her meeting with the man himself. She cursed under her breath, hurriedly plants a soft kiss on Nat’s cheeks before sidestepping the redhead and practically running out of there. 

“Carol’s in the gym with Agent Stark,” Maria said loud enough for Nat to hear from the other end of the empty hallway before she disappeared. 

Nat stood there frozen for a minute before she turned on her heels to see what you and Carol are up to. “Y/N Stark -” she whispered to herself as she walks towards the gym. Nat can’t deny the fact that her heart started beating wildly on her chest at the mere mention of your name.

It felt like an eternity has passed since Nat ever heard your name at all. So much has happened between then and now including your supposed death and the world literally ended, Nat didn’t really have time to dwell on all of her unanswered what-ifs. What if you didn’t die? Would she have had enough courage to feel she deserve you if you both were given more time?

***

Nat was enamored the moment she met you while she was undercover as Tony’s assistant. You were unlike no other she’s ever met before. A genius in your own merit was yet content to live peacefully behind your brother’s dark and long shadow. Funny without being obnoxious. She was sure she’s in love with you when you fought side by side while infiltrating Hammer Tech. 

“I didn’t know you could fight, princess,” she teased while trying to catch her breath after taking down most of Hammer’s security. 

You rolled your eyes at her, pretending to hate that stupid pet name. “There’s a lot of things you don’t know about me, Natasha Romanoff -” you fired back. Enunciating her name indicating that her cover was blown with you for a while now. 

“Let’s change that after we’re through with this -”

A new batch of security emerges that forced you to go back to kicking ass. “Are you asking me out right now?” You punched one man on the throat, knocking him out effectively. 

Nat’s chocking another on her side of the hallway. “No better time than the present, Stark. So what do you say?” She squeezes the guy a little harder, making him go slack on her arms. Nat was just catching her breath when another man appeared behind her. She almost doubled down when you threw a knife that you procured from your knee-high boots behind her. 

“Nice -” she said a little breathless, partially from being tired and also a little turned on. 

You walked up to her to give her a hand from the floor. She took the help gratefully. “Yes.” 

Nat understood immediately. “Let’s wrap this up quickly then,” she said with a smirk. 

***

A few days after sparring with Captain Danvers at SHIELD, you visited the compound one morning to make a quick delivery. The compound was eerily quiet for eight in the morning, making you wonder if you came in too early. Your wandering stopped when you heard the hopeless clanking of pans in the kitchen. You smiled, hoping that it is who you want to see that’s making all the noise. You leaned against the doorway, watching wild red hair rummaging through the cupboards. 

“After all this time, you’re still hopeless in the kitchen,” you said to announce your presence. 

Natasha stood abruptly, bumping her head on one of the open cabinets. She turned around with a frown while clutching the top of her head. “What the hell! You scared me!” 

Her frown only deepened when you won’t stop laughing. It’s not that you didn’t want to stop, you just couldn’t. She looks so adorable with her scowl and wild bed hair bathed in the early morning sunlight streaming through the massive windows in the room. You walked towards her. 

“I’m sorry but, this isn’t my fault -” you stopped two feet away from her. “ - no one’s supposed to sneak up on the Black Widow, right?” You teased while rubbing the top of her head. 

“No Black Widow business until I have my second cup of coffee, you know the rules.”

Of course, you do. You can’t forget anything about Natasha even if you want to. 

“I’m sorry,” you said sincerely. You didn’t really mean to startle her - that badly. 

Nat looked at you from under her lashes, and had your knees been human they would surely buckle under that look. “Kiss it better,” she demanded.

“What are you, five?” you teased to diffuse your nervousness but, Nat can see right through you. 

“Coward.” 

You huffed before pulling her towards you and kissed the spot where she hurt herself. “There! Happy now?” 

Nat smiled. “I am now.” 

***

Before you can say anything else, the rest of the inhabitants of the compound trudges in the kitchen including Maria, Carol, and Wanda. 

“Hey.” Everyone greeted monotonously indicating that none of them are fully awake yet. You just smiled politely to everyone to give them time to fully shake the sleep off their systems. 

Sam strode in last. He was sweaty and looking alert, probably from doing his morning jog. “Y/N!” he exclaimed when he noticed you. Everyone bristled at his volume, which probably won’t be acceptable regardless of the time of the day. “What brings you around? Not that we don’t want you here. Did you finally realize that you’d like to join our team now?”

“What?” Maria asked after registering Sam’s line of questioning. 

“No offense -” 

You decided to cut Sam off there. Any sentence that starts with no offense is often kind of offensive. “No, Sam, I’m not joining the Avengers.” Maria visibly relaxes at that while Sam deflated. “I just came here today to deliver you guys this -” You fished out an envelope from the inside pocket of your brown trench coat. 

Nat who was still standing next to you reached out and took the envelope. “It’s an invitation,” she mused. Everyone’s looking at you expectantly. 

“Yes. Pepper’s throwing me a homecoming party, and I don’t have the heart to tell her no,” you smiled. “Pun not intended.” 

The kitchen erupted in excitement while freshly brewed coffee was being passed around. “This is so cool, it’s been so long since we had a Stark party,” Bruce commented, earning a soft elbow from Bucky and poorly concealed side-eyes from the girls. Bruce opened and closed his mouth, unable to form an apology. 

“It’s okay Bruce but don’t expect it to be as grand as Tony’s parties,” you said smiling. “So?”

“Count as in!” Sam jumped at the opportunity to change the topic fast. Bucky sighed, resigning to his fate. “For you, I will be there, doll.” 

“Thanks, Buck.” 

While everyone was distracted about talks of the party and what to wear, you turned towards Natasha. “You’re coming too, right, Tasha?” 

Nat smiled at the use of her nickname. You’re the only one who likes to call her that. “I wouldn’t miss it for the world, princess.” 

***

The party was in full swing when the Avengers arrived at the Tower. Aside from the team, Pepper invited a select few Stark Industries people, from investors as well as your old lab team. Nat didn’t expect anyone else aside from Maria to be invited. So she was surprised to see you standing amongst Agent Colson’s team. Nat’s sure that you saw them arrive but, you made no move to excuse yourself from listening to Agent Simmon’s surely interesting story. 

Pepper did excuse herself and greeted the Avengers. “Hey!” She gave everyone a quick hug. “Traffic? Come on, let’s get you guys some refreshments.” 

“Yes! Let’s get hammered!” Sam cheered too enthusiastically. 

A couple of steps though, Pepper turned back to see the girls still rooted in their place at the doorway. “Coming, ladies?” 

“Ah, I think we would say hello to Y/N first,” Maria and Carol answered at the same time without taking their eyes off of you.

Pepper followed their love-struck gaze and chuckled. She assumed it’s a pack thing, so she didn’t bother asking Nat and Wanda anymore and just followed the boys to the catering table. Nat watched Maria and Carol strode confidently towards you, and efficiently inserting themselves into the conversation. Nat watched her girlfriends, subtly inserting their bodies on both your sides, creating a barrier between you and Agent Johnson and Agent Simmons.

***

Natasha can deal with the fact that all her girlfriends have a crush on you. She doesn’t see herself having trouble sharing you with her pack if it came to that. It’s the others she’s worried about. You’re too bright that everyone’s gravitating towards you like moths to a fire, like Icarus to the sun. All night, Nat tried to get you alone but, every time she thinks she finally does, someone else would come over and make conversations with you. 

Nat thinks you’re too polite to tell them off. So she excused herself when Agent Simmons came over to talk to you again (for the nth time that night). You smiled at her before turning back to Jenna. The bartender put four tequila shots in front of her the moment she sat on the bar. Bucky then turned to her. 

“Thought you might need a stiff drink,” Bucky grumbled over the rim of his beer bottle. Nat downed one shot before glancing in your direction. Bucky didn’t miss how the redhead’s frown dipped a little deeper. “Didn’t think you’re one to walk away when vultures are trying to snatch your girl.” 

Nat downed her second shot and slammed the glass down the counter. She’s not my girl, she thought bitterly. She knows full well that you’re not hers to hate Agent Johnson for simply wanting to be near you or for laughing at something you said and her hand landing casually on your biceps. You’re not hers for her to be jealous, she knows that painfully. 

She couldn’t watch any longer. She downed the last two shots before turning towards Bucky. “I think I’ll get some fresh air,” she whispered, eyes downcast. “Thanks, Buck.” 

Bucky only nodded before Nat hopped off her stool and walked out of the party venue. Nat didn’t turn back to see you watching her leave. 

***

Nat snugged a bottle of expensive wine from a passing staff on her way to God knows where. All she knew was that she needed to step away to clear her head or drown her feelings and her regret.

You and Nat have been casually dating for a couple of months, even with your brother’s utter disapproval of the relationship. For the first time in a long time, you were standing against your brother on a matter but that was Nat you were talking about. You weren’t going to give her up without a fight. Eventually, Tony relented but without threatening Nat that if she ever breaks your heart, she’ll be the first person on his non-existent hit list. 

Everything was fine. You both were happy until Nat suddenly decided she’s not ready. You didn’t know what happened. All you know was one day, she came back from a mission and decided she’s not ready to be tied down to one person.

“I’m sorry, Y/N, but I’m not built for this -” she waved her hand. Indicating not only the domesticity of sharing the same living space but also everything that comes with it like building a home with another and shedding walls to letting people in. “I’m sorry.”

You didn’t cry, and Nat knew you were letting her go gracefully. Even when she was breaking your heart, you were still thinking of her. “It’s okay, Tasha. I understand,” you said simply. You gave her a small smile before kissing her one last time.

Nat took a long swig of the wine before acknowledging your presence behind her. “What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be at your party?” she spoke without taking her eyes off of the city skyline. The view from the rooftop of the tower was spectacular.

You chuckled nervously. Nat only goes to the rooftop when she needed to think and breathe. You wonder if you’ve done something through the night that might set her off. “I saw you leave the party, I was looking for you.”

“Why?” She took another long swig, making her head spin a little bit.

“Why not? I’ll always look for you when you’re gone.”

Nat suppressed the urged to groan, opting to chug the wine, but you were lightning fast. You caught her wrist before her lips could touch the bottle. You fished the wine out of her grasp. “What’s wrong, Tasha?”

“Nothing,” she answered automatically. Her eyes are darting back and forth from your eyes and your lips. There’s a sad, hungry look on her face you couldn’t understand. You decided to ignore it for the time being and just confront her about it when she’s not one shot away from being drunk.

“Okay, if you say so. Let’s go back inside, it’s cold out here.”

You started to walk back towards the only door to the rooftop when Nat tugged you back roughly to her. “Tasha!” you exclaimed in your surprise when she pinned you between her and the deck railing.

Nat held your eyes for a second before she laid her forehead on your shoulder. “Do you enjoy it? Having everyone wrapped around your fingers?”

You can hear the hurt in her voice. You wanted to question her about it. You want to understand what she’s talking about, but the words wouldn’t come. Especially, when you felt her turn her head slightly, and her left hand caressed your cheeks.

“I can’t get you alone all night,” she whispered as she noses her way from your jaw through your neck.

“Tasha -” God knows you tried not to make it sound like a moan, but it came out exactly like that.

The rest of the words died in your throat as you felt Nat plant the softest of kisses on your neck and her right hand found your leg through the long slit of your dress. Suddenly, it wasn’t so cold anymore. The fire that is Natasha Romanoff warmed you immensely, and you were ready to burn for her again, still.

“You were mine first,” you heard her whisper before she pulled her head away from your neck and smashed her lips against yours for a minute. Then she’s running away, again.

***

MH: Meet me at SHIELD.

WM: What’s wrong, Mar?

Nat frowned at the demanding chat from Maria. She waited patiently for an explanation; she tried not to jump to a conclusion. But at the back of her head, she prayed it’s not another alien threat. She can deal with Hydra, but she doesn’t think she has enough to give to fight and lose people to another Thanos level problem. 

MH: Y/N’s down. Otw to the lab with Happy to get started with repairs. 

Nat paled, and for a minute, she couldn’t move. Fear gripped her, the past flooding back to her.

She rushed into the hospital when she heard about the accident. Relief flooded her senses when she saw Tony and Pepper alert and awake on their hospital bed. Steve and Rhodey were already there. When the group noticed her, Tony immediately averted his eyes while Pepper started bawling. 

“Is the baby okay?” Nat asked, worried that something happened to the baby.

Silence. Nat turned to Steve and Rhodey. Rhodey just frowned, lost for words too. Steve looked like he was trying to string a sentence in his head. “I’m sorry, Nat -” 

Nat became even more confused. “For what?” she asked. “Guys, you’re scaring me.”

Tony took an audible, deep breath, catching Nat’s attention back to him. This time, he held her gaze. “Y/N’s home, Nat,” he said. “When we found out that Pepper’s pregnant, we told her, and she came home.” 

Nat didn’t know that. No one told her that you’re home, which was understandable after she broke your heart. “Okay,” she nodded. Still, a tad confused as to where this conversation was going. “Do you need me to call her for you?” 

“She’s gone, Nat -” 

“Wha -”

“She’s dead.” Tony decided it’s better to rip off the bandage clean. Pepper started sobbing again. “She was with us tonight.”

Her phone vibrated on her hand again. She looked at the message from Wanda. 

WM: Breath, Nat. She’s inhuman now. 

And at that moment, Nat was so thankful that Wanda’s an empath. She released a breath she didn’t know she was holding and closed her eyes for a second to center herself. When she opened her forest-green eyes, she fired a quick text to the group chat before nearly running out of the compound. 

NR: I’m on my way.

***

Nat was cursing in Russian under her breath as she power walk through the hallway of SHIELD towards the labs. She made a mistake of jumping on the first available vehicle in the compound’s parking lot, instead of using her MV Augusta F4 RR 312 motorcycle. It would have taken her to the HQ in no time. 

She was rounding the last corner before she arrived at the lab when she bumped into Happy. 

“Hey.” The man looked exhausted even though the machines in the lab did all the work, but Nat understood it completely. The idea that you got injured affects those who knew you before you were inhuman than those who knew you post-human. “I’m beat. I’m going to crash upstairs.” 

Nat nodded with a smile before adding, “thank you, Happy.” She hopes the simple words convey how much she appreciates the man for taking care of you after all this time. 

“Anything for Y/N,” Happy answered, smiling. He was almost on the other end of the hallway when he called for Nat again. Nat stopped in her tracks and look at him quizzically. “Be quiet when you get there.” 

Then he disappeared. Nat just shrugged and continued to the lab. When she got inside, she floated to the room where she knows you would be and found you sandwiched between Carol and Maria. 

“Shouldn’t you be the one sleeping?” she teased softly. You looked up when you heard her voice from the door and smiled. 

“I would if I needed one, but I don’t. You, on other hand, look like you can use a nap too.” You tried to speak as softly as you could as not to disturb your sleeping friends(?), but they still manage to stir and look at Natasha. Together they patted the only space available in the bed for her. 

Your lap. Nat quirked an eyebrow at the two before looking back at you. You smiled before raising your hand to beckon her to you. Nat decided to throw all her inhibitions to the window and gracefully climbed on the bed with you. It took a bit of squirming around to accommodate her on top of you, but you managed. Nat laid her head on where your heart should be. 

Suddenly, Nat felt exhausted. Like all the stress and emotions - the confusion, the disbelief, the longing - she desperately tried to run away from ever since she found out that you’re alive caught up to her then. Her eyes started to close as you run your fingers through her soft red hair. 

“I’m still yours,” you whispered, confident that Natasha has joined her softly snoring girlfriends in dreamland. It was quiet for a minute. The only sound in the room is the whirring of machines from the lab outside.

“I’m ready now,” Nat mumbled loud enough for you to hear before she completely went under.

[tramaqueen]

@damagedsmile​​ || 🖤‘d for a starter.

It was a long night of running from nightmares spilling over into reality. Literal mounds different types of nose candy kept her up for the most part, but there was an inevitable crash that there was no way to pinpoint just yet. She woke up in what seemed like a hospital, hooked up to an IV dripping into her veins and tubes invading her airways. Unrooting herself the machines was excruciating; her body was sore and freezing cold, but it didn’t stop her from trying to make an exit. Soon as her toes touch the icy floor, a nurse walked in tossing the immediate escape out the window. After being under Doctor Satan’s control at Weeping Willows, nothing the nurse said was new it was like they all studied the same RN instruction manual. Everything came from her mouth went in one ear and flowed out the other until the reveal to where she was, Arkham Asylum. “Jane” the nurse calls her, asking her real name, Faora insists that Jane was it. The nurse gave her a soft nod before writing something on her clipboard. She soon after informed Fae that a psychiatrist would see her in 10 minutes, then vanished. And the moment the nurse left the room, the loose cannon of a woman was quick to take the needle from the IV, tucking it in the only place she could.

The 10 minutes really felt like 5, by time she knew it, two guards showed up to escort her to the room where the doctor waited for her. Thanks to the reputation she had no recollection of setting, they let her speak to the psychiatrist bound free. This was the first of many mistakes. Once she made it in the office she sat, giving her a relatively jaded expression. The doctor gave the guards a nod and they proceeded to leave the room. “Hello, I’m Dr. Wendi Maga and we’re just going to go over a few things to get through this together. Nail down the issues so we can start the healing process so we can get back to society as healthy as possible. Let’s start with the basics: Do you know your name? And what’s your date of birth?” Retrieving the needle between her frail fingers she gave the doctor a sadistic grin, spitting out a few ridiculous answers. Waiting for the right moment as Dr. Wendi went to write her notes Faora leaped over the table, tackling her out of the chair. They tussle and she’s instantly reminded her how weak her limbs still were, nearly losing this battle. Wendi crawls over to press the Emergency button but to no avail, Faora jammed the IV in her eye before she could lay a finger on it. Forcing her onto her back Fae wraps her fingers over her new victim’s screaming. The psychiatrist was mustering up her last bit of fight, reaching for the sedative in her pocket a little too late. Faora pushed her head back to minimize the amount of blood that got on her new disguise, stabbing the doctor’s pen into her eye socket, sprinkling in a few extra jabs just to be sure.

Even with her timing it best she could there was a knock at the door right as she finished tucking the body from immediate view, she fixes her hair to cover the bits of blood spattered on her white lab coat a.k.a. her ticket out of here. Assuming it was the same guards ready to take her back to her room after a completed session she had the syringe filled with sedative hidden behind her back in one hand, the other went for the handle to open the door. Pleasantly relieved the charade continued as it was a fresh pair of guards, but there with the dilemma of another unhinged patient. One that obviously had a violent reputation being delivered to Dr. Wendi wrapped tight. “Oh, you’re not Dr. Maga, sorry wrong office.” Says one of the armed men. “No, you got it right.” Faora corrected. “She had to split for a family emergency. I’m just her cover for today.” “He’s a dangerous one Miss, we can just save him for when she’s ba-” Reaching for his sleeve already, if he built such a high profile here, he had to know the halls that lead to her escape like the back of his hand. “Hey!” She interrupts, turning him into a game of tug-of-war between her and the security. “Dr. Wendi wouldn’t have me cover her if she wanted any of them to miss treatment. You guys got him all tucked and tied to himself. I’m a big girl. I can handle him, thank you.” The brunette gave the patient another ‘I mean it’ tug toward her, followed by a shoo motion at the guards. They finally back away, hesitantly. Quickly shutting the door behind her, it would only be a matter of time before things stopped adding up and the place would lock down, starting the search for the two. “Look,” the chaotic woman drags him over to seat him in the chair. “You’ve got two options...you lead us the best way out of here and I can get you out of this stupid jacket, orrr I’m gunna lodge this sleepy juice so fucking far into your brain...you’ll get the best rest all bound up like this...forever.” A sick grin curls into her lips, tickling the needle over his temple before tapping his nose. “Better choose wisely...and quickly.”

[optimistic-dinosaur-nacho]

The Door

Dark!Steve Rogers x Reader

Warnings: Sleep Paralysis, Dark, non-consent touch, Somnophilia (Non-Smut you’ll know why) Summary: As an apprentice scientist at the Avengers Tower, you’ve became friends with one of the Avengers who knows you more than you know yourself. With a sleeping condition, you were too tired to close your door. And left it opened for an unwanted guest.

A/N: Okay, for those who may be freaking out, I’m not doing 18+. This is completely clean but it is dark. I suggest you don’t do this or not read if this triggers you. 

Being up this early in a big city, it wasn’t your favorite thing in the world for you. Having a well-paid job, it was such a huge dedication to you. After years of engineering and building technology, you wanted to be like your boss. Him and his team always walked around the building most of the time. A couple months, you don’t see them a lot. This was technically their home. Their rooms were built in here while you rent at an apartment in downtown Brooklyn. 

It was small and the landlord never bothered you a lot unless you ran into him in the halls. 

You met a couple of the team in the building. Dr. Banner, you met him everyday, he was your assistance to becoming less of  an apprentice. He always thought you were smart with your work. Every idea came from you and Banner liked when you came up with new tech. 

Tony was your boss but for someone like him, you meet him once a month. You thought today you were more tired than before. It reminded you that it was getting worse.

“Morning, Miss L/N,” You hear a friend call to you.

Other than being around Banner, the first avenger was the one to walk up to you at a party that Tony arranged for his co-workers. His gentle smile and blue crystal eyes looking at you.

It was like looking at your school crush years ago.

“Captain,” You respond, holding your clipboard closer to your chest and adjusted your white coat. He pulls the corner of his lips into a grin, “I see you’re early up.” You followed his gaze to see the clock that was 6 in the morning. You nod, “Yeah. I just realized I had unfinished business.”

Steve’s brows twitched into concern. The concern that made you realize you might’ve said too much of yourself to him. During that party, you might’ve too a couple drinks and your mind just makes you admit a lot of things no one knows about you.

You knew what you said to him. You were lucky to have him not bother you too much, he never pushed things too far with you. He always kept his distance. You sighed, “I guess I didn’t get enough sleep last night,” You let out a laugh. Steve looks up and down at you. Out of concern he did.

“Have you spoken to your docto-”

You cut him off before he could finish, “Captain, I’m okay, really.” Steve’s lips close firmly and he breathes out through his nose. His fingers curling slightly to reach for your hair, skin. Some sign of reassurance. “Is there anything I could do?” He asked, you shook your head and turned away from him. 

“I should go. It was really nice to see you, Captain. Say hi to the others for me?” You say, Steve couldn’t help but nod and grin softly.

After that you made your way to the lab. Bruce made you do some research, test some things over the monitors and checked in with Tony on the comm. Friday gave out the results every once in a while. You made some successful projects, some may have blown in your face a couple times but it was all good.

You hadn’t seen Steve since that morning, you went to the large room with the couches and kitchen, making yourself some coffee since you never gotten one on your way over.

Steve knew a lot about you since that party, well, after that party, you two just started to talk more. It was usually when you meet in the hall or in the morning like you did this morning. He knew about your conditions at home. The insomnia was a problem because you had sleep paralysis since you were a kid. It gotten worse over the time. It usually could last for several minutes that felt like an hour. 

You start to panic. Words couldn’t come out like someone had ripped your tongue out. As a kid, you couldn’t see anything. Your eyes felt like they were taped shut, but you could feel something around you. You could move your head, toes, fingers, but you couldn’t move your body off the bed. No twists or turns, no jerks or anything. You’re frozen on the spot like rocks holding you down, thinking you’re going to eventually suffocate in your mattress. 

You hear Bruce come in with his board and his glasses on the bridge of his nose.

“Okay, we have a change of plans,” He says.

You turn to him and furrowed your brows. He peers up at you, “You mind if I keep you another 5 hours? You’ll be home by nine.” You were tired enough already. Especially drinking coffee that had way too many shots. But you were in it for more money. This is why you loved your job but hated to get home late.

“Yeah, sure.”

Banner nods, “I’ll give you another 10 minutes. Meet me down at the lab.” With a nod, Banner heads back to the elevator as you enjoyed your cup of coffee. Feeling a bit worried, you took another cup of coffee to-go. You met up with Banner once again and you both went back to work. Doing the same things since you got there, you burned your finger, but you managed to bandage it up.

Bruce eventually led you off and you were off at 10.

Jesus Christ. It felt like you hadn’t slept in a week, your eyes are burning, urging to blind your vision of driving. Luckily your home wasn’t far from the Tower and you parked your car, jumping out tiredly as you made your way to the door and up the stairs. The elevators in the building were broken due to one of the fire breakouts in one of the rooms. They shut them down and suggested to rebuild them again.

You weakly reached in for your key and unlocked your apartment. Greeted by your welcome home scent of candles. Dropping your keys on the table along with your bag and coat. You stolen a small snack from the fridge and ate that toward your room. 

Kicking your shoes off, you tossed your clothes off. Your window facing out toward the city, your faint light of your lamp lit only half of your room as you undressed and threw on a shirt and plopped onto your bed. You reached for the switch of your lamp and looked over to see your bedroom door open.

Your eyes and legs began to disagree with you so you turned off your lamp and laid down on your bed.

And just like that, you went out.

His hands gently slid the window up, opening it wide enough for his broad shoulders to squeeze in through your apartment room. His heavy footing hit the wooden floor. In uniform, he wanted to be stealth as possible. His thoughts wandered farther than he could’ve questioned himself. 

He watched you from afar. Seeing you limp into your bedroom like a zombie. Your back turned toward the window, he could imagine every curve. His eyes gotten dark the second he saw your room lights on. Your kitchen light was on, your music that was a classic jazz, gently played on the speaker. 

With a gentle touch, he turns off the speaker and hears what might’ve been the shuffle from your bedroom. 

He froze on the spot, thinking the fastest and quiet way to dart for the window but he never heard footsteps. Instead he heard what sounded like faint whimpering. The sound of struggles, he then realized you were awake. 

You were woken up from a bad dream. Once you did, your eyes went heavy and your brain began to function the surroundings. The car sounds and sirens filling your ears, you could hear your air condition whir in the other room. You were awake, but you were stuck.

Your sleep paralysis had begun. 

Your finger tips barely moved, your eyes frantically looking around even though you saw darkness. You whimpered and moved your toes. Then you froze. You stopped moving your fingers and eyes. Knowing where your door was, you could sense someone staring. You breathed out slowly.

“I know you can sense me.”

You stopped breathing to the sound of a deep voice. Your fingers began to twitch more to wake your body up and run from whoever was there. You hear their footsteps come towards you. 

You couldn’t scream, all what came out was groans and whimpers. The intruder shushes you, his hand touches your arm and you shook. “You don’t know how long I’ve waited to see you. So... vulnerable.”

You felt their fingers drag against your arm like some animal they were petting. “You don’t know who I am, do you?” He asked, you shook your head and whimpered. Not answering to his question, you were begging to have him leave. You then felt a heat against your ear, “Take a wild guess, sweetheart.” The familiar words of sweetheart falling from his lips, you realized who called you that during the whole party at the tower.

Steve.

You only turned your head and whimpered. You needed to move your body. Steve grins, darkly, “I know your paralysis could last for several minutes. Even if you woke up now, you’d be scared to even get away from me.” You could  sense that his face was closer to yours. His fingers dragging over your stomach, almost riding up the shirt. 

You then felt his fingers touch your cheek. “You’re so beautiful...” You turned your face away from his hand and whined. You felt tears that you didn’t know you were making, they slid down your cheeks. “So soft...” His hand drags down your thighs and stops at your knees. 

You began to start moving your feet. Your head shook and you let out a whine. You feel the hands pull away and you kept moving your fingertips. Your eyes finally opened and you jumped up from your bed with a huge gasp. You choked out strangle sobs and saw that no one was in your room. Steve was no longer there or someone.

Your brain only made up the things in your sleep paralysis, but it felt too real. That night you tried to sleep on your side instead on your back. Keeping your lamp on, you figured to call in sick for tomorrow.

You then made sure...

You closed the door that night.

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