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father-time-and-baby-new-year · 4 years ago

Note

M-more armin vs eren drabbles please

WC: 3.2k

Title: Melted Candles

Warnings: possessive behavior, cheating, armin x reader x eren, obsession, unhealthy relationships. manipulator armin & toxic eren.

You’re fidgeting with the hem of your short dress that your loving boyfriend bought you, nursing a drink, and half-heartedly scrolling through your phone.

Sitting on the olive couch alone as the musings of a party transpire, you eye the big and colorful banner sporting the words “Happy 20th Birthday Eren!”.

“It’s like Eren to be late to his own birthday party huh?”

A smooth, gentle voice breaks you out of your trance. You turn sideways to face Armin Arlert, a pretty boy with short-cropped blond hair and wide oceanic eyes. He’s all dressed up in a deep grey turtleneck, navy dress pants, and an expensive Omega watch on his wrist.

You must have looked frightened because he chuckles as he takes a seat next to you, a respectful distance away, “Sorry. Didn’t mean to startle you. Are you having fun?”

“Uh well it’s a surprise party, it’s not like Eren knows he’s supposed to be here.” You have an immediate desire to slap a hand over your mouth after the words spillover. You wince, not entirely in love with the fact that it was your first instinct to defend Eren.

If you had been more observant, you would have noticed the corners of his lips flick upwards in amusement. But Armin is observant enough for the both of you. He notes the color of embarrassment in your cheeks and continues the subject with ease.

“Ah, yeah. That’s right. Eren hates celebrating his birthday, but they're always a good excuse to get everyone together" He pauses before grinning so wide it doesn't look genuine, "-maybe this is more for us than him.”.

There’s an underlying tension in his words you can’t make heads and tails off. It reminds you of how truly little you knew of Eren's very own best friend.

You smile brightly, channeling all the optimism you could into changing the topic: “Everyone’s trying their best today! Sasha did all the catering and managed to leave the cake perfectly alone even though it’s her favorite flavor. She has the patience of a saint today.”

As if on cue, there’s a commotion in the background. Jean yells at Sasha, “Don’t finish all the lemon-pepper wings Potato Girl!”

Armin laughs and it's a pretty sound, a sound that reminds you of a bell chime. Unconsciously, he shifts closer to you, knees knocking into yours.

“Yeah, you’re right. Connie's even hosting it, and he let us decorate his man cave."

You look at the streamers and balloons, and Armin follows your eyes.

“You did a great job decorating.”

You blush, “It was honestly a team effort. Mikasa did way more, I promise.”

“So humble”, he teased. As he smooths his slacks, your eyes can’t help but fall on the shine of the silver band on his slender finger, an engagement ring.

“Annie couldn’t make it today?” There’s a flash of a grimace on his face but he schools his features right away.

“She doesn’t really like parties,” he laughs softly, “She’s like Eren in that way.”

“Oh,” you paused. He was clearly hiding something but it wasn’t in your place to pry. You didn’t know much about Annie. In fact, you were a little intimidated by her icy demeanor and arctic eyes. It amused you at first when you learned she was Armin’s partner.

Opposites must attract, because where Annie was the cold seeping into your bones, Armin was a furnace radiating warmth.

There wasn’t much more to say with the conversation heading to a peaceful silence, until his arms lightly touch yours, “I’m really glad you came.”

His fingertips graze the sleeve of your dress.

You flush, “Well, I wouldn’t be a very good girlfriend if I didn't come to his birthday party.”

The pretty blond clicks his tongue, “I suppose.” He inhales, thumbs swiping the rim of his glass, “You’re too good for him. Do you know that?”

To say you were surprised would be an understatement. You don’t have a response ready but Armin continues, “I love Eren of course. Been friends with him since we were children but-” Deep sigh, “I feel like I barely know him anymore. No one knows him anymore.”

In a small voice, you squeak “I do.” But the unsureness of your tone made your words seem like it was a question.

Armin smiles, one that’s filled with mirth.

Boldly, he squeezes your thigh, the flesh right below where your dress ends, “You deserve better.” His oceanic eyes seem darker under the dim lighting.

Why weren’t you moving away? Were you letting his hand itch closer to roaming the softness underneath silky fabric?

You swivel your head around, praying no one is seeing anything. Thankfully everyone was too swept up in their own conversations. As if to soothe you, his hands draw circles on the soft pliant skin, “Don’t worry, no one can see us.”

The ring glints harshly. Admittedly, Eren’s soft-spoken best friend is just a little attractive. You didn’t always think to see him this way, but Armin changed, and all the general anxiety he possessed matured into a quiet confidence.

He reminds you of Eren in that way. But still, you're at crossroads here. Is Armin making a move on you? Is he warning you? Should you even be here right n-

Your internal monologue is interrupted by Mikasa clapping her hands, and then putting a finger on her lips, “We’re going to turn off the lights, ok? They’ll be here in a few minutes. When Eren starts coming in, yell surprise.” Armin hand’s leave your legs, the warmth gone.

“Oy, oy, oy. Don’t we need a signal?” Connie asks, confusion apparent on his face.

“Jesus Connie, if you can’t even figure this out, what are we going to do with you?” quips Jean.

Mikasa shakes her head.

Sasha lightly punches her best friend, “It’s okay Coomer, just follow my lead.”

“How will that work since you’re stupider than me?” The hazel eyed boy asks, voice dripping in concern. “Eh?” Sasha replies with an equally concerned tone.

Mikasa pinches the bridge of her nose, “I’m going to turn the light off now.”

Eren would be here soon. You barely register Armin putting his arm around the couch, not around you per se, but the proximity was close enough to send your heart racing.

In the switch of a light, the room was engulfed in darkness and excited giggles that Mikasa promptly hushed. And then was just the sound of breathing. You could hear yours and you could hear Armin’s.

Softly, the blond uttered, “I’m going to do something I’ve always wanted to do.” You could feel featherlight fingers tilting your jaw, and capturing your pillowy lips.

The doorknob rattled. Soon after, light from the hallway trickled in. A still moment. As soon as the kiss started, it ended. A flash of light exploded before your eyes and a cacophony of people yelling Surprise! rang out.

At the center of attention was Eren Yeager, who...did not look surprised at all. His eyes were not even adjusting to the light the way yours was. A tall redhead accompanied him, someone who you vaguely recognize as Floch.

The birthday boy was clad in a white button-up, sleeves rolled to his elbows and the top button was unfastened. His dress pants were slim-fitting and black.

The green-eyed boy’s face was devoid of expression. In comparison to his stoic nature, you thought your heart was going to explode.

Wryly Armin says, “Oh look, your boyfriend has arrived.” As if on cue, Eren’s eyes locked with yours.

At that moment, there were too many things to process.

Luckily, Eren was surrounded by a small crowd of his closest friends. You could hear Jean cackle, “Come on! You’re not even surprised.”

You turned your head to face the boy who took advantage of the darkness, a scarlet blush staining your face, “Why did you-?!”

He gazed at you with shining eyes like he had found clarity, not even bothering to feign guilt. With agility only he had, he took your palm in his, “I know you used to like me.”

Blood rushing in your ears, you tear your hands “What are you doing? Eren’s right there. Don’t touch me.” You hissed, scooting away for good measure.

“You didn’t deny what I said.” The blond pointed out calmly, “Yeager is no good for you. He keeps you in the dark about his life and he’s certainly not loyal..”

“I-I can’t deal with this. I never expected this from you Armin.” You shot up from the couch, trepidation filling your nerves, “Now if you excuse me, I’m going to greet my boyfriend.” You uttered the last word with as much hostility you could muster.

Mikasa had her arms wrapped around Eren. Which was fine. They’re best friends. They’ve known each other far longer than you knew him. He thinks of her as a sister.

He thinks of her as a sister.

You walked over, looming behind them. Most of the crowd had dispersed, with only Eren and the Ackerman girl lost in their own world.

What is wrong with you? You scold yourself. You didn’t usually think like this.

“[Y/N]”

Eren noticed you right away, and Mikasa turned around to face you.

“Sorry [y/n], didn’t mean to take so much of his time from you.” The dark-haired girl smiled apologetically.

You could feel guilt gnaw at you, how could you ever suspect her? She waved to Eren, and warmly thanked you, “You did so much of the planning. Thank you.” And before you could reply, she left.

That left you alone with the man himself. “Hi.” You said shyly. He smirked, “Hi babe. Long time no see huh.”

His viridian eyes slowly roamed your appearance, head to toe. You blushed under his stare as they paused longer than necessary on the dip of your neckline, and the expanse of legs not covered by the silk dress.

“So you did all this?” He teased, vaguely gesturing to the string lights, and hanging paper flowers.

He steps closer to you until he’s just a breath away. “Hardly. Just helped out wherever I could.” You whisper.

He hugs you, his tall frame enveloping yours. You feel so safe, pressed against his chest, as his arms compass the slight of your back.

His cologne is your favorite. Subtle, and intoxicating with thick notes of spice. You sniff something else, something overpoweringly distinct.

Still enclosed in his arms, you look up to him, “Did you drink?”

He takes a step back, still wrapping an arm to your waist, “I met up with Zeke. He offered me a drink.”

“Zeke?” You questioned, “You visited your brother?”

Eren was privy to sharing details about his life and you knew virtually next to nothing about Zeke, his half-brother he came recently in contact with.

He kisses the top of your head, and you can feel the loose strands that escaped his bun tickle your face, “It’s nothing to worry your pretty little head about.”

He keeps you in the dark about his life.

“You were cozying up with Armin on that couch, weren’t you?” His tone is light, containing a thinly veiled accusation.

You laugh it off, hoping he wouldn’t notice how tense you suddenly got, “No, no. We were just talking. I was sure I was going to kill myself out of boredom just waiting for you.”

Snuggling closer to him, you stand on your tippy-toes to kiss his jawline, trying to distract him from wavering thoughts.

“Oh?” He asked, “Armin wasn’t entertaining you well enough? Well, he does have a tendency to babble about nothing.”

As he talked, you had a feeling he wasn’t really looking at you, but rather peering straight behind you.

An uneasy feeling fills your lungs, “Um Eren, let’s head to the kitchen. I can fix you a plate. Niccolo did the catering so you know it’ll be really good-”

The tall boy waved your suggestion away, “Not hungry. In fact, why don’t we head over to my best friend? I haven’t talked to him in a while.” You didn't appreciate the mocking lilt in his tone.

Before you could dissuade him, he was already pulling your wrist so you could turn, hand placed on the small of your back, leading you somewhere you definitely did not want to go.

The charming blond was still situated on the couch but this time joined by a woman who was talking rather animatedly. You vaguely recognized her by her chin-length wavy ash-colored locks. Hitch.

“-Annie is so lucky! Jesus, I can’t believe you guys are engaged! And Marlowe still hasn’t worked up the nerve to-”

Eren coughed, asserting his presence. Two pairs of eyes flitted upwards. Hitch sighed dramatically, “Well if it isn’t the birthday boy. The big 2-0. You’re not a teen anymore Yeager. Think you’re ready for the adult world?”

Your boyfriend, who was never one for false pretenses and small talk, ignored her question entirely, “Hello Hitch. If you don’t mind, I would like to catch up with Armin here.”

The woman rolled her eyes, “Guess that’s my cue to leave.” As she stood up, she looked back and forth between the boys, noting the animosity that seemed to permeate the air as they burned holes into each other.

“Why are the vibes so tense? The energies you two are radiating...is reminiscent of a pissing contest”

Without really intending to, you let out a chuckle, attracting the attention of the three people around you.

Hitch’s eyes softened, “[Y/n], I haven’t seen you in a minute. Let’s go do shots with Mina and Hanna.”

Eren’s grip on you tightened, “She’s staying right here Hitch. Enjoy yourself though”

“Funny, I don’t recall asking you. Your girlfriend can’t speak for herself?”

“Uhm, thanks for the offer Hitch but no thank you, I’m not really in the mood to drink right now.” You chuckle nervously, flashing a big enough smile that will ascertain that everything is okay.

Hitch shrugs, “Suit yourself”, and proceeds to walk away.

“Well, I suppose I have to thank you for driving her away. She’s quite...talkative.” Armin breaks the silence. He addresses you both but his eyes are trained on you, “Back already [y/n]?” An easy smile spreads across his face.

You don't look at Eren’s face to gauge his reaction, but you notice how the hand around your waist squeezes almost painfully. The boys stand up to shake hands. Armin gestures for the two of you to sit but the dark-haired boy waves it away, “We prefer to stand.”

The blond gazes between the two of you questioningly but seemingly accept Eren’s response, “Okay then. Guess I’ll stand too.”

“Where’s Annie? Trouble brewing in paradise?”

Armin’s smile hardens, “Don’t know how you’d assume that. She’s just not here.”

Unease pinpricks at you. You could feel trepidation in the air.

“What a shame. Doesn’t Annie like me?” Eren taunts before delivering a line you didn’t expect, “I recall a time where she liked me much more than you actually.”

Surprise is an understatement for how you feel. You didn’t even want to register the implication of his statement. Did Eren and Annie have a past? You lightly touch Eren’s arm in a hint of a warning, “Eren-”

The blond shakes his head, “You’re really something else, you know? Talking about another woman so brazenly in front of your girlfriend? Are you projecting your insecurity onto me since you know” he tilts his head in your direction, “[y/n] liked me first?”

You fluster immediately, jaw-dropping slightly. It was true. You did have a rather big crush on the intelligent blond boy who sat next to you in a class that bored you to sleep. But there was nothing between you two beyond a handful of platonic study dates from when you were freshmen!

Too many moving variables. He was dating Annie and not being the homewrecker type, tried to squash the interest you had. Besides, you were planning to drop that class anyways, and in a twist of fate, it was Armin who had inadvertently introduced you to Eren.

Also, how did that damn Arlert know and why was he bringing it up today of all days?!

Your boyfriend sneers, “Does that really matter when she’s with me? When she’s dating me. And. Not. You.” He punctures the last words out.

“Uhm, I’m right here-” You finally find your voice, “And I’m not really comfortable with being discussed like this.”

Armin’s eyes find yours, “Of course. Sorry [Y/n]. It’s super disrespectful of me-”

Eren cuts in with words heavier than bullets, “Shut the fuck up. Always desperate to play the white knight in shining armor aren’t you? Your duplicity makes me sick.”

As if sensing an oncoming attack, Eren pivots away from you, creating some distance.

Armin closes the gap between himself and the dark-haired boy and bunches Eren’s collar in his fist, “You don’t know how to treat people, you know that? So full of yourself that you think basic decency has an ulterior motive.”

Eren’s eyes dance with mirth, “There’s always an ulterior motive with you, isn’t there though?”. He forcefully shoves his friend, sending Armin stumbling a few steps backward, “You really like pretending you’re one of the good guys when your hands are blood-stained like the rest of us.

You can hear the blood rushing in your ear and you attempt to get in the middle of the impending conflict but Eren grabs your arm with a painful force. He growls,“Step back”. You obey.

“Don’t touch her touch like that.” Armin snarls.

“She’s my fucking girlfriend. I’ll touch her however I want. By the way, just because your little fiance is giving you a hard time doesn’t give you the right to leer at what’s mine.”

At this point you realize you come to your senses, and you leave the area quickly to get help. You scan the area around looking for Mikasa. She’s reliable and always knows what to do. You try to calm your panicked heart.

Gaining speed, you nearly fall by running into someone in the long hallway. Thankfully, the good samaritan is able to catch you in time, holding your shoulders in a firm but comforting grip.

You look up, eager to thank the man who caught you. Mullet. Tall. Slight scruff at the chin. You recognize him right away.

“Woah y/n, what are you running for?” He asks in amusement but one look at your teary eyes has him instantly concerned, “Hey, hey. Are you okay?”

“I-uh,” You’re blubbering, “Armin and Eren are acting kinda strange--I think Mikasa should calm them down.”

Jean’s eyebrows are furrowed, “Strange how? She stepped out so she’s not here right now.” You bite your lips, wondering how you were going to explain the situation.

Jean grabs your shoulder, “Hey, don’t worry. I’ll settle this. Can you take me to them?”

You nod, supremely grateful to have Jean in your corner. As you guys take a turn to the living room, you hear the excruciating sound of glass breaking. “Shit!” Jean curses.

In the middle of the living room stood Eren and Armin like centerpieces, beating the ever-living shit out of each other. You couldn’t see much beyond the fact Armin was throwing punches left and right, landing some but Eren was able to dodge most.

As you move to run forward, Jean grabs you, “No. Stop. There’s glass everywhere. You’re going to get hurt.”

You’re incredulous, “I can’t just let them hurt each other!”

Jean merely looks at you with a look of pity,

#armin arlert fanfic #armin arlet x you #eren yeager x reader #eren yeager x you #eren jeager x reader #armin and eren fight over you #attack on titan headcanons #attack on titan fanfiction #tw manipulation #tw gaslighting #tw fighting #manipulator armin

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commonwealthoccurences · 4 years ago

Text

Companions React: Masked, Teenager Sole

Note: Deacon has a full imagine due to it being the original request, which can be found under the title “The Kids From Yesterday.” Enjoy!

Cait:

Nosy about Sole’s identity

The fact that they’re so secretive makes her extra suspicious about their motives, especially when she first becomes their companion

Will probably straight up start arguments about it, and it honestly does become a barrier in her trusting them

(Maybe it’s just an excuse she’s using not to trust them)

Eventually it settles into an unspoken agreement that they agree to disagree; Sole knows she doesn’t like their secrecy and Cait knows they don’t fully trust her either due to how guarded they have to be

Doesn’t appreciate it when other people push to find Sole’s identity, though

She can yell at them about it but no one else can, that’s her job

When she eventually has to remove Sole’s helmet due to them getting injured, she’s outwardly horrified

They remind her of herself when she was younger; young and vulnerable and put in dangerous positions no teenager should be a part of

She’s terrified for them and that shows itself as anger, considering that’s the only way she really knows how to show emotion

When they wake up they argue, but eventually she gives them her reasoning

She becomes extremely protective and is more ready than ever to spill blood over someone threatening Sole

No one was around and willing to protect her when she needed it as a teenager; Sole doesn’t have to deal with the same if she’s there, though

Curie:

Doesn’t particularly let the anonymity bother her

She notices, of course, how closely they guard their identity and the fact that they never show their face, or any part of their body, but that doesn’t hinder their efficiency so she doesn’t think much of it

Finds them to be delightful company and doesn’t need a face to know that

That’s about it. She may ask the occasional question about their background out of curiosity or ask their reasoning for hiding identifying features, but other than that she doesn’t really react to the hiding

When Sole gets injured and she finds out their identity she’s definitely surprised

She asks them what led them to taking up the mantle they have (General, Railroad recruit, etc) when they shouldn’t have to have that responsibility at such a young age

They’ve clearly proved themself capable, so she doesn’t tend to question them so much

However she does make sure to sneak in ways to let them be a teenager and not the Sole the Commonwealth knows

She asks them to join her on short walks, help her cook, etc

Makes sure to help them stay anonymous to others

Danse:

Absolutely not impressed

A security threat he doesn��t want to deal with

How is he supposed to verify they’re decent and vouch for them if he doesn’t even know who they are

Not to mention the potential for someone to pretend to be them and gain access to the Prydwen

Makes a begrudging exception if Maxson requests so or they turn out to be a fantastic asset

Doesn’t really stop prying, though (A small part of that is his own curiosity)

After they’ve known each other a while he gets defensive over other people prying into Sole’s identity

“They’re highly respected for a reason, I don’t think their appearance is any of your business, now is it?”

When he has to remove their helmet he’s shocked but doesn’t fully react

Sure, the situation’s unfortunate, however many Brotherhood recruits start young

Does have doubts as to whether or not a teenager can handle the workload and make the decisions required of Sole, but realizes eventually that they’ve already been making those choices

Is wary of them overworking themself but it isn’t a big conversation

Gage:

Struggles a bit with not being in the loop, but plenty of raiders don’t show their faces

If they get their work done and don’t fuck things up, he doesn’t particularly care what they look like or where they come from

Sure he’s curious and makes small attempts to find out what they look like but it’s not a big issue for him

Does ask about their past every now and then just to see if they’ll slip up

When he finds out their age and what they look like he finds himself more upset than he’d expected

The things he’d required them to do weren’t pretty and yet they hadn’t hesitated, even seemed to be trying to surpass his expectations

They lived in a shitty world but things like this really hit him in the gut and drive that point home

Goes a little easier on them afterwards but doesn’t make a discussion out of it and no longer pries

Also uses the respect angle as a way to get raiders to stop asking questions

Hancock:

Unashamed prier

Doesn’t hesitate to try and get them to expose their past

It’s playful teasing to him so unless Sole draws a line or seems extremely uncomfortable, he’s not gonna stop

Doesn’t really think there’s anything to their anonymity other than maybe them having a situation similar to Mac; someone hiding from raiders or the Gunners

Once they earn his respect his jokes get a little less invasive and he starts letting them have their secrets

When he sees they’re a teenager he’s pretty upset

They’ve been travelling the Commonwealth fighting things that no sane adult would go up against in their dreams and they’re just a kid in his eyes

Doesn’t really know what to do

Has a talk with them about letting him protect them a bit more

He doesn’t feel right having a teenager try and take bullets for him

He’s not upset at them he’s upset for them and all they shouldn’t’ve had to do

Haylen:

Another believer in the security risk issue

If they prove themself loyal, though, she doesn’t have too much of a problem

Does ask questions about their past but not to pry, more because she genuinely wants to get to know them

As long as they’re capable, though, she leaves anything regarding their appearance and past alone

That’s about it before they reveal their face

Afterwards she’s somewhat upset

She doesn’t often question Maxson, but he’s sending a teenager on dangerous missions that should be completed by the upper ranks of the Brotherhood

Mostly just angered by the fact that they have no one to stand up and protect them when a bunch of adults are asking them to do dangerous things for their own benefit

MacCready:

Respects the anonymity

Honestly a little jealous he didn’t think to go anon

Doesn’t ask anything in the beginning; he’s getting paid to protect them not for small talk

Does suspect they’re running from something

As they get closer he asks a few questions but doesn’t really pressure them to talk about their past

When he finds out Sole’s a teenager he’s possibly the most effected out of all the companions

He feels sick and immediately thinks of Duncan; this was somebody’s child. What if it was his kid in this position, with all these expectations on his shoulders?

Immediately activates dad mode, to the point where Sole might find it a little suffocating

“There has to be someone out there missing you, kid. Why are you out here doing all this dangerous sh- stuff?”

The dad mode thing doesn’t really switch off unless they’re in public; implying a familial connection could make things more dangerous

He does protect them in combat situations more, though, and usually has an eye on them at all times

Nick:

A little wary of their unwillingness to be identified, but can’t be too annoyed about it

There’s plenty of tactics to stay alive in the Commonwealth and theirs seems to be working for them quite well

Does wonder how they manage to avoid slipping up and revealing something about themself so well (he is a detective after all)

May make sly comments to see if they do mess up but other than that he leaves the identity situation alone

They’re respectable and they respect him, so that’s enough in his eyes

When he finds out they’re a teenager he, like Gage, is reminded of just how much the world has changed

He’s disgusted that a teenager has been put in a situation where they feel they need to make theses sacrifices for everyone

God knows the adults aren’t really doing it

Becomes a lot more defensive of them but not to the point Mac goes to

Checks up on them a lot more often, too

Makes sure they take breaks from the difficult tasks

Piper:

She’s a reporter; you really expect her to do anything other than pry?

Seriously does everything she can think of to get them to slip up and reveal something about themself

Even tries to bribe them

When it doesn’t work she sulks a little and mulls over her next plan

Eventually she isn’t so forthright with it but she never really stops trying

Makes it clear that she does respect Sole for their personality and what they do, though

When she finds out it all makes sense to her and she feels guilty for being so persistent

Becomes a bit protective over them as well; she couldn’t imagine if Nat was put in their position

Tries to make it clear through her actions that they have a home with her and Nat if they need somewhere to go or a family, since it seems like they don’t have one of their own

Preston:

Are they efficient? Do they respect the settlers? Do they have a good heart and want to help the Commonwealth? Good enough for him

He doesn’t have the time or energy to try and dig into why they don’t want to show their face

He’s admittedly a little curious but it’s none of his business and he makes sure that they know he knows that

A little more reluctant to just let it go once they become General considering there’s more at stake, but what else is he gonna do

It’s not like anyone else was willing to lead, and they seem to be doing a damn good job at it

When they get injured and he finds out why they hid their appearance, he’s somewhat upset

At himself for putting so much pressure on a teenager, at Sole for not being straightforward and allowing him to push them so much, and at the world for putting them both in a situation where there’s no other option

Moving forward he asks a little less of them and tries to step up even more to take some of their workload

Definitely helps quell the settlers asking questions about Sole and their identity

Sturges:

Pretty similar to Preston

Doesn’t ask too many questions as long as they’re a respectable leader

When he finds out he takes a minute to be frustrated with the situation and then moves on

Their armor and weapons are always priority for repair, however, and he asks them quite often if they need his assistance with something

X6-88:

Internally he’s quite unwilling to believe they’re good enough for the job the Institute’s given them, but he doesn’t express this other than with a few snide comments

They could be a major security risk but the decision has been made and he’s not in much of a place to protest

He does try to investigate them on his own, without asking them questions directly, but comes up empty handed, which irritates him further

When he finds out he’s alarmed

The fate of the Institute, and therefore the Commonwealth, as been put in the hands of a teenager

His reaction to protect them even more isn’t quite out of concern for their wellbeing, and more out of concern for the Institute if they were to die

Isn’t impressed

#fallout 4 #fo4 #fallout 4 companions react #fallout 4 headcanons #fallout 4 hcs #cait #curie #paladin danse #deacon #gage #hancock #rj maccready #scribe haylen #nick valentine #preston garvey #sturges #x6-88 #piper

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adonis-koo · 4 years ago

Note

Hey Missy! Just finished reading chapter 20 of Tease and as always, I loved it! Thought I would do a somewhat long review of the story because I have nothing better to do 😺

First of all, I am genuinely in love with this couple, they are adorable and always find myself thinking about them every one in a while /.\ In terms of both character and relationship development, they have come very far, particularly within the relationship. It's just the little things like always touching each other, looking at each other etc. My favorite part from chapter 20 was when MC slipped into little space and JK adjusted his name to 'Koo' to help her feel more comfortable, considering that he was absolutely repulsed by the nickname beforehand 😭 It just goes to show how soft he is for her 🥺

Not gonna lie though, was looking forward to the 🥵 scene just because there hasn't really been any new content surrounding that topic as of lately (which is completely fine!) ... and when he said "Just 15 minutes to worship my girl", literally fucking died right then and there, had to turn my phone off to process that information. But I think that it was good that they stopped once he realised she wasn't in the right state of mind, really emphasises the importance of respecting boundaries!!

I enjoyed finding out a little bit more into Rosé's life even if it was a bit dark. Rosé is singlehandedly one of my favorites in this story, definitely one of my comfort characters! She's also hot as hell lmao.

As for the last scene, very scary and dark, obviously not looking forward to what is coming ahead just based on what you have said about it all going downhill from there lmao (not going to stop me from reading it though)! This is probably one of my top fanfics/stories I have read, I really enjoy the premise and also the ddlg representation as there is barely any ddlg content on here! Keep doing what you're doing Missy, I appreciate your dedication to this story and I really look forward to reading the rest of the story!

Have a good day! Sorry this was so long and do you have a date for when you are going to post the next chapter? No pressure though! :)

JajskajakK pls NEVER apologize for a long review they make my heart go !!! 🥺

While this has been my longest project ever and I will always have some things I’m not 100% happy with I’m also just a perfectionist because I am VERY proud of MC and JK, they really do love each other and no matter how many obstacles they hit they will always work through it together! My envy of their relationship is especially the way they always look at one another and the soft touches they share! It’s just those little reassurances to one another that continuously prove to one another how in love they both are.

Especially for Jungkook who isn’t used to such tender touches and love, he’s practically in heaven 🥺 I was very happy with the outcome of 20 in terms of their dd/lg dynamic! Particularly when MC opens up about feeling somewhat awkward the title daddy in little space, and !!! You are totally right! Jungkook used to resent the nickname Koo but like? It coming from MC??? It’s grown on him so much and he would NEVER want MC to be uncomfortable, he would do ANYTHING for this woman 🥺

I think it’s so funny you actually enjoyed that line so much during the *slight* smut even we got! When I was proof reading and editing I had actually thought about axing that line because it almost felt a bit 50 shades-eqsue and I didn’t want anyone to cringe 😭 but the fact that everyone liked it so much has me so happy! It felt like a risky move to me but again, it’s just been me and my thoughts the last 6 months when it comes to tease! Once again, Jungkook always has MCs comfort on his mind so the moment she tried to say she was fine to continue he just immediately knew it wasn’t a good idea. Much like you said!! Boundaries are important!! It’s even more important for Jungkook because he wanted to help her understand that it was okay to say no in that moment.

Despite the last scene being heavily censored compared to the original draft it still makes me extremely uncomfortable to read!! And I was admittedly a bit nervous to put it in the story even with all the triggering warnings just because I know how jarring it can be! That being said I wanted to make it as un-descriptive and brief in terms of assault while putting more focus on the dialogue (particularly with the mention of Diego Friar), but I’m glad that it’s gone over well- as well as it could given the circumstances.

Regardless I’m so happy you and so many others are enjoying the stories return! Thank you so much for such a long review!! 🥺🥺🥺

#missy answers #tease #anon

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pandoralillith · 7 years ago

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Winter Lily - Birthday Dance

“Every year on your birthday, you get the chance to start anew”

Title: Birthday Dance Series: Winter Lily Characters: Bucky Barnes, OC Type: Fluff, slight angst A/N: I have been toying with the idea of a mutant/halfling character that I wanted to fit into the MCU universe and possibly create a love interest for Bucky with. This scenario had been plaguing my mind for forever so I decided to write this down. I suppose this would make more sense once I have the origin story written out so it’s clear who Lillith/Pandora is and how she exactly fits into the grand scheme of things. At this moment in time, this “drabble” chapter doesn’t fit in any specific moment of the original timeline, it might be rewritten in the future. Hopefully, you’ll still enjoy this story for what it is right now, feel free to leave your comments or tips if you have any.

At this time, Lillith/Pandora’s confirmed powers are Illusion Manipulation and Erebokinesis, but this might change later.

The glass windows were vibrating to the beat of the music blasting out of the stereo systems, surely they would have shattered if they weren’t build to avoid breaking upon impact after the many, many attacks on the Avengers tower in the heart of New York. The only thing louder than the volume of the music had to be the chattering and laughter of the people who entertained themselves at the party that night. One thing was sure, Tony Stark knew how to throw a party.

Lillith couldn’t remember the last time she actually celebrated her birthday. If she ever celebrated her birthday in the first place. She had been in the hands of HYDRA from a very young age, the organization treated happiness and love like it was some sort of plague and would make it their mission to break you down completely and beat out every bit of happiness out of existence. It was forbidden, in the eyes of HYDRA, there could only be pain and torture. And if her birthdate hadn’t been written down in her project file, she probably wouldn’t even have known that today was her twenty-sixth birthday.

She didn’t want to make a fuss about it, she didn’t hold any value to birthdays seeing as she never had the experience and thus held no meaning. But to her dismay, Natasha made it a point to mention her birthday coming up in casual conversation which gave Tony an excellent excuse to host another Stark-worthy bash, and before she could even protest, the invited had already been sent out.

Most of the guests were no strangers to the Avengers hideout in the first place, the entire team was present, including Thor who stuck around after their last mission to retrieve a stolen artifact from the ‘days of yore’, T’Challa and Shuri who had just returned from Wakanda to supply the team with weapons and uniforms made from Vibranium which Shuri had been working on after analysing what each member needed to enhance their abilities, and surprisingly even Bucky who Steve practically had to drag out of hiding stating that relaxing and having some fun would do him some good.

Then there were the people whom she didn’t recognize, some of them were former S.H.I.E.L.D. agents as Natasha had informed her, others were people Tony just knew and had invited because - well, Tony likes to throw big parties with loads of people around so he could boast about anything and everything.

The entire night, Lillith decided to stick around the people she knew and felt comfortable with. Mostly Wanda - who felt as much as a fish out of the water as she did - or Natasha, striking up casual conversations with Shuri and ignoring Tony’s overly excited cheers whenever she was in the neighborhood. As much as she appreciated his attempts at making her feel special on this day, she felt awkward being the center of attention. It didn’t help that Natasha and Pepper had convinced her into a beaded and lace halter top dress, the top snug fitting black with a flowing white and tulle skirt attached to it. If it were up to her she probably would have shown up in comfortable jeans or sweats and a simple shirt. But seeing as this was a party - and she was the center of said party - she had to dress up.

After losing her friends in the crowd, Lillith made her retreat to the side of the room, a familiar figure catching her eye on the balcony. Sliding through the dancing and drinking guests, she made her way to the slide doors and was immediately greeted with the soft, cool evening breeze pushing her curled mahogany locks. Another good thing about those shatter-proof windows was the fact that they contained most of the sound from inside the party, which made the balcony a perfect refuge for people searching a bit of peace and quiet.

“Well, well, well, Mister Barnes,” She spoke as she slowly approached the brooding man with arms crossed, as he slowly turned his head back to glance upon hearing his name. A playful smile danced on her lips. “Who knew you would clean up so nicely.”

A soft, amused chuckle rolled down his throat as he smiled back at her. “Look who’s talking, doll.” He teased back, letting his orbs of blue trace over her appearance for a moment as she looked about as awkward as he felt in her new outfit. “Nice dress.”

“Admittedly not my style, but I guess I pull off the girly look-” A soft giggle danced along her words as she ran one of her hands over the fabric of the skirt. She stopped next to him and leaned forward against the cool metal bars of the balustrade as her gaze traveled to the city lights below.

“So how do you feel, birthday gal?” He turned his gaze back to the view himself, enjoying the silence compared to the craziness from inside. Parties were a lot different nowadays than what he had been used to, both in terms of music, clothes, and activities. It was a lot to take in, not necessarily in a bad way. It was just different.

“Not much different than usual, really...” She grinned thoughtfully before glancing his way with a mischievous look in her eyes. “I couldn’t possibly say I feel old in the presence of two dinosaurs and an ancient God, right?” She couldn’t help but snicker at the reaction the super soldier gave her, his eyebrows raised almost in a sense of surprise as he placed his hand on his chest to feign insult.

“Low blow, doll,” He gasped playfully, though she could tell by the look in his eyes that he was just as much amused as she was. “Has no one ever told you to respect your elders?” She couldn’t suppress the laughter she was holding and broke down in a fit, shaking her head at his comment. Bucky watched her with a widened smile, almost fascinated at how cheerful and amused the young woman was at their playful banter.

He had gotten used to her sarcastic comments over the period of time they knew each other and worked together. But he had never seen the young girl genuinely smile or hear her laugh so carelessly as she did at the moment, which was a good thing. The two of them came from similar situations - both ripped out of their own environment, captured, tortured and abused by the hands of HYDRA. Both with just one mission implanted in their brains and both fearing to feel so much as a sliver of positivity or hope since those emotions were punishable by such intense torture, you’d wish you were dead instead. Seeing her genuinely happy was a nice change of pace and actually granted him with the same sense of happiness just by watching her.

“So tell me,” She continued after calming down from her laughing fit, the smile never leaving her lips. “Are you just standing out here by yourself because being mysterious, dark and brooding is your schtick?” Arching a brow curiously, she rested her emerald gaze on his facial features, he still had his scruff which she assumed was just part of his aesthetic at this point, there were a still a couple of faint scars visible on his face, but he seemed a lot less tense than she was used to seeing.

“It’s not my kind of party,” He casually shrugged it off. After all the things he had been through, all the rush and stress and violence and chaos, he had learned to enjoy and admire those precious moments of silence. He also wasn’t exactly a fan of Tony’s ego-fest which this party turned into.

“Mine neither...” She hummed thoughtfully in agreement, a soft sigh escaping her lips as she turned back to the view in front of her. “I always thought birthdays would include cake and balloons and presents-- this is just loud music and alcohol...” Scrunching her nose at her own words, a sad chuckle rolled down her throat at the depressing thought that people her age were living for those kinds of parties, hangover was their middle name. She enjoyed music and a drink from time to time, but she couldn’t imagine herself wasting all her free time living that kind of life. “How obvious is my lack of childhood?”

“Cheer up doll, cake and balloons are overrated, anyway,” Bucky replied, glancing down at the young woman’s facial expression with a melancholy smile. Collectively, both of them had been in captivity for about the same time if you only counted the years he was out of cryo-state and doing their bidding as the Winter Soldier. But he had been in his twenties when the whole deal started, while she had spent her life under their grasp. “But who said anything about no presents?”

As she rested her head on her arms in slight defeat, still leaning against the balustrade, she once more turned her gaze to the taller and muscular man next to her. Her eyebrow quirked up at the constant sound of the way he addressed her as doll, something she knew was a sweet nickname back in the ‘40s and she had to admit it had a fun ring to it. “What? Are you going to tie a bow around your head and sing me a birthday song?”

The man chuckled, shaking his head in reply as he let his left hand slide into his pocket, “You didn’t hear it from me, I overheard Steve talking about a gift they prepared at the end of the night but--” He paused for a moment, pulling out a small little box that was neatly wrapped with a little blue ribbon which he held out towards her. She perked up at the sight of the little box, staring at it with big emerald orbs filled with curiosity. “Maybe this can keep your spirit up for the time being.”

She accepted the box with both arms, still staring down feeling almost speechless. She hadn’t expected any gifts from anyone, but she had to admit that Bucky was one of the last people she would have expected anything from. Not that he seemed like an unkind person, since teaming up with the former assassin and getting to know him personally, as well as listening to Steve’s stories of back in the day, he seemed like a kindhearted man with the typical Brooklyn charm and guts. No doubt he had the personality and the manners to woo any young woman, but something as trivial as a teammate’s birthday was something she didn’t expect him to consider nor would she have been upset if he hadn’t.

“I gave you more than just a box, ya know!” He grinned, tapping his metal index finger onto the top of the box as she continued staring at it, speechless. “Open it.”

She nodded silently, carefully unwrapping the bow and taking off the lid to reveal a stunning and elegantly small silver chain necklace, to which a charm was attached. It was a simple silver crescent moon from which a star-shaped jewel was dangling down, the gem itself had an interesting colorful shine; a gradient of black, blue, pink and purple, it almost looked like a mini-universe. “Wow… Bucky...”

“I read about something called the Pandora’s Cluster and all the telescope pictures showed a pattern of those colors…” He tried to explain the odd colored gem that decorated the charm, he actually did his research on her alias and the first thing he came across was Abell 2744, also known as the Pandora’s Cluster. There were several pictures of the galaxy with an array of colors but the most prominent was the mix of black, blue and pink that came together in almost a shade of purple. He came across a small shop that custom-made jewelry and eventually found a charm that would work well with the theme he was going for, something that truly reminded him for her for as long as he had known her. He didn’t even know why he was putting so much effort and attention into the gift, he just felt like he had to for some reason. “Almost like a natural beauty that shines through all the chaos...”

“It’s beautiful, I don’t know what else to say...” She almost whispered, a strange wave of emotions washing over her as she continued to look at the piece of jewelry in her hands. She had never been gifted anything, much less anything as thoughtful and meaningful as this necklace. Her emerald orbs lifted to meet his gaze, a gentle smile pulling at the corners of her lips. “Will you help me put it on?”

“Sure thing, doll...” He nodded, taking the box back from her and lifting the silver necklace out as she turned around and brushed her hair aside. She caught herself smiling as she felt the cool silver charm touch her skin, waiting for him to clip the necklace before turning around.

Gently touching the charm with her fingers, she looked up at the taller super soldier and flashed him a wide smile. “Thank you, Bucky, I love it.”

“Not a bad pick for a brooding dinosaur, right?” He tossed in with a cheeky grin, giving the smaller female a playful nudge as he did.

“Who knew the Winter Soldier could be so sentimental?” She grinned, playing with the necklace in her hands as she leaned against the balustrade once more and released a long and content sigh. “So what did parties look like in your day?”

“Not that much different,” He shrugged thoughtfully as he tried to reminisce. “Everything that comes to mind when you think of the 1940’s, I suppose.” The way parties were hosted and attended didn’t much differ from the way they were now in the sense that all that was hip and happening would take place. The alcohol was different and not consumed as an activity but rather just added to the sociability. The clothes were more modest and people who wanted to show off wore their army uniforms decorated with medals and other rewards. The term class would definitely come to mind. It would be a cliché to say times were easier and more modest, but they were.

Lillith watched his expression change from amused to rather pensive and hesitated for a moment before daring to ask. “Do you miss it?”

“I mean, of course, I do...” He answered honestly, looking at her with a melancholy smile. As much as he was getting used to the world he woke up in and was basically forced to live in, he did miss home. His Brooklyn, his friends, his life when it was so much simpler, back when he wasn’t known as the Winter Soldier. He was glad that he had Steve by his side at least, his best friend with whom he shared the same experience of feeling lost in a world years beyond his time, his last reminder of the person he used to be. “But it’s useless to stay stuck on the past. I know I can’t go back so I just have to focus on a new life.”

There was a bittersweet truth about his words. There was no way to go back in time, much less change the past for their own sake. Lillith understood this, the lives they were living today were the result of the past, and for better or for worse they had to deal with the hand they were given. But that didn’t mean they couldn’t reminisce once in a while.

“Bucky… ” She finally spoke up, her gaze fixated on the stars above them. He looked up at her with a curious expression as she continued. “Do you trust me?”

“Do I--?” His darkened eyebrows knitted in a frown, not really understanding why trust suddenly became an issue or a part of their mindless conversation. “What do you mean?”

“Did I stutter?” She couldn’t help but sass him, turning her attention to the frowning man, her lips curling into a coy smile as she waited for his answer. Rolling her eyes slightly impatiently as he hesitated with his answer, she reached out and grabbed his arm, tugging him along. “Just come with me.”

Bucky still wasn’t quite sure what she meant when she questioned his trust, but reluctantly followed after her as she dragged him back inside. But instead of joining the other partygoers, they continued to the elevator and got inside. Without explaining her plans, Lillith told Friday to take them to the roof to which she obediently complied. She was humming a peaceful tune as the elevator took them to the top floor in no time and pulled Bucky with her as she walked out to the quiet and empty rooftop of the building. You could hardly hear the music from a few floors below them, the clearest sound was that of the wind softly pushing past them as it traveled through the clear dark sky.

Lillith let go of his hand and took a few steps forward, taking in a long, deep breath before turning around to look at him. “Don’t think too much… Do you trust me?”

Trust in his line of work - and with his history - was definitely a sensitive subject. He never knew who he could and couldn’t trust, betrayal was lurking behind every corner. The only person he blindly trusted was Steve because they shared the promise to stick by each other until the end of the line. He had grown comfortable around some of Steve’s friends, maybe because he found himself relating to the young woman so his gut feeling answered. “I suppose I have no reason not to, do I?”

“Good enough!” She grinned, somewhat content with that answer as she approached him again. Staring up at the taller male, he could see a playfulness in her eyes. “Close your eyes.”

“Why?”

“You said you trusted me, didn’t you?”

“Technically, I said I had no reason not to trust you… ” He corrected her matter of factly, though his words danced on a teasing tone, watching as her brows knitted in a slightly annoyed frown. “Calm down doll, I’m just playing with you.” She playfully hit his shoulder in as he let out a soft, rumbling chuckle before closing his eyes to comply.

“Now relax…” She hummed softly, raising her hands up as black swirls started to dance around fingers. His expression tensed slightly and she could tell he was ready to open his eyes but she continued. “Think back to the 1940’s, imagine being at a party...” He wanted to ask why but she merely hushed him, closing her own eyes as he channeled her powers into his mind at a slow and careful pace, falling into his memory as she felt his mind drifting away.

Bucky wasn’t sure what she was planning but intended on giving her the benefit of the doubt. He could feel soft stings entering his brain, almost like a tickling sensation which he almost immediately linked to her using her powers, considering how close she stood to him. He was very wary of people messing with his mind or memories after the trauma he went through as HYDRA wiped him after every mission. But again, for some reason, his gut trusted her enough to watch what happened. Thus, as she asked him to think back to one of the parties of his time. The last time he remembered was the celebration of Steve’s heroic deed as Captain America, but it was a good example of a great party and he remembered how elated and relaxed he had felt back then. A sense of nostalgia washed over his senses as he could almost vividly picture the decorations of the venue, the sound of the music ringing through his ears as a familiar scent of perfume and cigars ran through his nostrils. It was almost like he was back.

“Lillith?” He finally spoke up after what felt like a good few minutes in silence, deciding to open his eyes to see what kind of prank he had gotten himself into by blindly following her lead.

He had expected to see her standing in front of him on the rooftop of the Avengers building, but instead, he found himself in the exact venue he had just been imagining. Decorations that were very clearly from the 40’s, the familiar scent of perfume and cigars, the hustle and bustle of the people who came to party, dressed in their best outfits. The sound of jazz trumpets filling the room. It was so vivid, so real, Bucky had no idea what was going on. Glancing down at himself, his outfit was replaced by his own army uniform he remembered wearing at that particular event, complete with medals. The only thing that hadn’t changed was the length of his hair, those it was slicked back into a bun instead.

“Look at you, Mr. Barnes,” A familiar voice mused behind him, his gaze snapping around to the familiar young woman who had approached him with a sly smile on her lips. He had to blink twice to realize it was Lillith, fittingly dressed in a marine blue halter top cocktail dress as most women wore during that period of time, her hair fluffed and curled aside. She looked like she stepped right out of the era. “Looking pretty fly for an old guy.”

“How did you do this?” Bucky genuinely wondered, his eyes once more traveling around the room. It was all so real, too real like nothing had ever happened. “Is this... Is this real?”

“As real as your memory can make it,” She stepped closer to him, almost proud of what she had accomplished. While Wanda was able to alter people’s minds or give them vivid visions, Lillith was able to recreate memories and make them come to life based on how well her target focused on it. It was one of the things that had to be completely voluntarily for it to succeed and even then was a risky task. She only accomplished such a feat a few times, all of which under the influence of her captors. But never had she managed to create a situation so vividly as she had now, maybe because Bucky was almost longing for this memory. “You may not be able to go back permanently, but at least I can help you go back and enjoy yourself for a moment.”

“You are truly amazing, you know that?” His lips parted in the most genuinely happy smile she had ever seen, not a hint of sadness or awkwardness in his eyes. She could truly see how relieved he felt being able to relive a moment in time where he felt at home and she was thankful that she was able to give him that.

“Tell me about it, sugar,” He quirked a brow at her nickname, a playful grin tugging at the sides of his lips as she merely laughed at his reaction. “It was either that or sweet cheeks.”

“Sugar works fine,” Another amused chuckle rolled down his throat, truly enjoying this playfulness between them and the fact that she seemed to fully emerge herself in his era, as he held up his hand in offering. “Care to join me for a dance?”

Lillith glanced down at the hand he held out to her, noting that both of his hands were still made of flesh. It somehow surprised her that he was still able to picture himself in this setting without his hand, but it made sense since his memory took place long before he lost his arm and disappeared.

It wasn’t until he followed her gaze that Bucky figured that the Vibranium arm had disappeared as if he never lost it in the first place. He stared at his left hand, almost admiring it in a sense, before she drew his attention back as she placed her hand in his. The touch of her skin on his felt so surreal, something he had not felt for a very long time and had almost forgotten while her soft touch tickled his own. He met her emerald stare and subconsciously mimicked her soft smile. “I thought you’d never ask.”

Lillith was surprised how much of - what she assumed was - the real Bucky shone through as he lead her onto the dance floor. The way his blue orbs almost seemed to bury through her own emerald gaze and into her soul, his face carrying a soft yet crooked smile that showcased part of his charm. He seemed confident and at ease, right in his element. She was glad this part of his humanity hadn’t been destroyed by HYDRA’s tight regime, this was exactly the type of person she had imagined after hearing Steve’s stories. She was entranced with his expressions as they moved to the music, a slow song coming on as if on cue. Lillith wasn’t the type to dance, but she naturally let herself go with the flow and back in the day it was more than natural for men to take the lead in any dance.

Bucky was thankful to be able to relive a moment he longed for all this time, though the sense of disappointment still lingered at the thought that this was just temporary, it was exactly what he needed after all he had been through. She seemed to fit right into his world, the style complimenting her features and beauty in a way he had never considered before. Aside from their joint experience as weapons of HYDRA and their fight for redemption while protecting the Earth, all he knew about the young woman was that she was sassy and stubborn and - quite literally - out of this world. But the more he fought with her, spoke to her, spent time with her, the fonder he grew of her in a way he never imagined he was able since waking up out of his time. She had given her a priceless gift, however, and felt at ease being in her presence.

It was interesting how a simple dance could become so intimate, but both former assassins kept eye contact through the entire slow dance. Hands tightly held together, his other hand carefully resting on the small of his back as her hand was placed on his right shoulder. Both expressions peaceful and softened, communicating without words. It could have been an impulse of circumstance, but as they continued swaying to the music, Bucky slowly leaned in closer towards her. He hesitated and unexpectedly felt his heart race at the urge that crossed his mind. She hadn’t flinched or moved or reacted as he inched closer, she merely continued to look at him with that soft smile, her cheeks coloring a soft shade of pink. Making up his mind, he closed the distance between them and carefully pressed his lips against hers. She didn’t seem to fight it, instead, she leaned into the kiss and returned it to both their surprises. She could feel her cheeks flushing, burning as she returned the kiss and almost admired the sensation of his lips against hers, his scruff tickling her sensitive skin but she didn’t seem to mind.

For a brief moment, the two stayed connected in the kiss, her head was reeling with the sensation as their surroundings quickly fading in and out of existence like some sort of glitch in a holograph. Breaking the kiss, Bucky quickly glanced around with his brows knitted in a worried frown as the venue faded in and out of view again in just a brief second before pulling them back to the 1940’s, “What the hell was that?”

Lillith took a deep breath, it was only now that she realized how everything around her felt like it was spinning at a rapid pace, her vision slowly blurring as a soft thud was pounding in the back of her head. Keeping the mirage going took a lot of concentration and energy, but as her attention was drawn to the moment the two were having, she slowly lost her grasp on her creation and hadn’t realized how much it was actually draining her. “Sorry…” the apology almost slurred out of her mouth as it took every drop of energy just to speak. “I think my mind slipped out of it.”

His eyes dropped to her face, still carrying the worried frown. Her face was flushed from color, even the soft shade on her cheeks had disappeared, the paleness even reaching her otherwise warm colored lips with an alarming sight “You don’t have to keep this up, it’s hurting you.” She shook her head stubbornly, not wanting to ruin this moment of happiness she managed to give him, but he insisted. “It was fun while it lasted, baby doll, but I think it’s time to go back.” Carefully brushing a stubborn curled strand of hair behind her ear, he could have sworn he saw her lips curl up into a slight pout.

“N-no, I can still...” Her voice sounded both tired and disappointed as her sentence got caught off, closing her eyes for a moment as she was unable to keep her grasp on the temporary reality she created and collapsed onto the ground.

Bucky felt a shock in place, a jerking sensation like the rude awakening after falling in a dream, and in a blink of an eye the entire venue disappeared, the scent disappeared and the music died out, finding himself back in the darkness on top of the roof. The disappointment he had anticipated earlier washed over him for only a brief moment, releasing a content sigh before his focus was drawn to the young woman slumped in front of him. He immediately kneeled down in front of her, carefully brushing some strands of her hair out of her face. “Are you okay?”

She lied in reply, nodding her head carefully as she tried to ignore the throbbing in her head. The world behind her closed eyelids was still spinning beyond her control, a scary feeling which she hadn’t experienced in a very long time. Her entire body was shaking, aching as though screaming at her for starving herself from energy. She felt her mind grow fuzzy and wander off, longing to give into the fatigue.

“Lillith, stay with me...” His voice subtly cracked with concern as he noticed how her breathing became more shallow and her arms, upon which she had rested the weight of her upper body to try and keep her somewhat upright, were faltering. “Hey. Hey! Look at me!” His voice broke through the haze in her mind as she felt his strong arms supporting her shoulders, the touch of his Vibranium hand cooling against her almost burning skin, shaking her softly to try and regain her attention. “Open your eyes, baby doll. Look at me.”

She continued to fight the urge to give into the screaming fatigue and pounding sensation in the back of her head. Bucky’s commanding voice growing louder and louder as she slowly snapped out of her dizzy spell and peeled her eyes open. He gently placed his fleshed hand underneath her chin and forced her to gaze up to meet with his, finding herself almost drowning in the intensity of his steel blue stare, which only hardened at the alarming sight that her gaze had grown distant. As she focused on him and him alone, the pounding in her head slowly drifted away and the world seemed like it stopped spinning at an abnormal pace, regaining her balance once more as her heartbeat slowly but surely steadied. “There she is...” He offered her a careful smile amidst his worry as he noticed her focus returning, her body stopped shaking in his grip. There was a sense of guilt that continued to grow within him, he never asked her to use her powers to such an extent but neither did he stop her and part of him felt responsible for the state she was in. “You’re with me, right?”

“Yeah...” Her voice sounded weak, almost like a whisper as she felt her energy slowly dripping back, “I’m sorry I ruined the moment...”

“Hey... We don’t need the past to have a moment...” He softly chuckled in an attempt to make her feel at ease once again. The moment they shared was special, it might not have happened ever if she hadn’t sent them back into his memory, he wasn’t even sure what the moment meant in the first place since it all happened so suddenly. Not that he regretted it and it was comforting that she reciprocated. “Are you okay? Think you can stand up?”

She swallowed harshly, mustering up the confidence before nodding, reaching up for his hand to support her as she carefully got back to her feet. The blood in her head rushed down, obscuring her vision as she struggled to keep her balance when a strong hand rested on the small of her back to keep her steady. “Talk about a rush...” She muttered, her eyes traveling up to meet his.

His blue orbs moved over the soft features of her face, the color in her cheeks had yet to return but her skin was considerably less pale as it was just a moment ago, hints of the stray tears still lingering on her lashes as her expression still screamed exhaustion. And even in that state, she looked beautiful to him. Like he had described the cluster of stars that shared her name, he found a sense of beauty in chaos. “You keep surprising me, doll.”

“Do I?” Her eyebrow quirked up as her lips curled up into a playful grin. She wasn’t quite sure what exactly he was referring to but he took it with jest anyway. “There’s a lot more where that came from, sugar.” A teasing hum rolled down her throat as she continued to look at him, the sheer happiness that radiated from his expression made her heart leap in a way she never imagined to be capable. Bucky deserved a break, he deserved a piece of happiness and she was glad to be the one that could grant him that much. It surprised her how much she was drawn to him in what seemed to be an innocent exchange, it was a sensation she hadn’t experienced before, and the sudden kiss was just the last piece of the surprisingly amusing and soothing puzzle.

Her posture was alluring, the coy tone of her voice drawing him in once more as their eyes connected as they did before. She had immersed herself into a seductive person that knew exactly how to speak to his instincts. The kiss on the dance floor was an almost careless move he made that reminded him of the heartthrob antics he used to partake in. His senses were overcome with a feeling of enlightenment as he had not a single care in the world, or so it felt. And here she stood - back in their present day, recovering from a gift so precious to him that he forgot it affected her like a curse. Her emerald gaze burning through his own, connecting with him in a way he feared he would never be able to again. There was something about her that fascinated him, drawing out the Brooklyn charmer he thought was long gone. It felt nice not being treated like a weapon or a monster, it was comforting to connect with a person who truly understood him. He wanted to make the first move but she was just one step ahead, already leaning in to press her soft lips against his.

Lillith surprised herself at how quick she gave into the attraction that flooded her senses and took over her better judgment. It felt like a second nature to approach the tall and brooding man whose eyes for once were filled with a sliver of hope. She had never experienced this sensation, it frightened her because it was so unknown, but even more so because it felt so right at the same time. She realized the man before her, whose lips were rough but somehow seemed to comfortably fit onto her own, hadn’t done anything out of the ordinary of how people often treated each other. He was kind to her when he wanted to, curt with her when he needed to, but most importantly he gave her a sense of worth that she so desperately longed for. She had been weaponized, plagued by her past and her destiny. Cursed by her origin and unable to escape no matter how desperate - no hand could end the torture she had to bear every second she was awake. And then there was Bucky, a man with an equally complicated past and an unsure future, who treated her like any other human being and on this very evening - despite the fact that it should have been her special day - made her feel home and at ease in a situation where she felt like nothing more but a fish out of water.

Bucky gently pressed his hand against the small of her back, pushing her closer to his own body as they deepened the kiss, sending a chill down her spine. Parting their lips, their tongues intertwined in a playful dance as she carefully reached her hand up and rested it on his cheek. Again, her head was reeling but in a positive kind of way as he stole her breath away. The rugged, brooding man caressed her with such ease and kindness that one would forget how dangerous and violent he once was. It was a perfectly blissful moment that neither wanted to break, but the need to breathe reminded them that all good things would come to an end.

She slowly pulled back, smiling against his lips before completely breaking away. Eyes closed, she let the feeling linger for another moment before releasing a slow breath she didn’t realize she was holding. Her eyelids fluttered open, meeting with his warm blue gaze which colored her cheeks with another shade of pink. He smiled down on her as the same sensation had filled his heart and rushed through his veins, at this moment it was just the two of them connecting, their longing for a normal life fulfilled by the other. But another feeling lingered in the back of her mind, one that she had encountered before, one she often tried not to give into. It was an ominous feeling that almost slapped her in the face as a sort of reality check, there was a reason why she never experienced true happiness or joy - because that very sensation was often followed by something terrible.

“What’s on your mind, baby doll?” The way her expression changed so suddenly naturally didn’t go unnoticed, a frown now forming above his wondrous blue eyes. He was worried she was going to collapse on him again, dealing with the aftermath of using her powers.

She released a long sigh, stepping away from him with a guilty aftertaste. She wasn’t sure how to explain her troubles since it didn’t make any sense at this point. There was no captor that would tase her, stab her, shoot her, sedate her or torture at any moment if she were to give into the warmth that had trickled into her heart. There was nothing that would stop her from finally experiencing what normal people would, without fearing the outcome. Sure, this mutual attraction was strange, new and very exciting, it was unknown territory for the young woman who believed all her life that she was nothing but a monster.

“Did I do something wrong?” When it came to courting or romance, Bucky was just an innocent soul who meant to harm but to love unconditionally. After all he’d been through, it was something he longed for the most. He wasn’t sure if love was the proper way to describe the events between them, but he was certain that there was chemistry that he was very willing to explore and experiment with. But at least he had some experience, he had fallen in love before - or at least experienced infatuation. “I’m sorry if I--”

She snapped around almost immediately, her eyes widened as she vigorously shook her head at his implications. Bucky had done nothing wrong, there was nothing he could do wrong when all they did was kiss and she had initiated the second one. “No! No, no, no! It’s not you, it’s me!” Her nose scrunched up as the words were ringing in her own mind, realizing the only times she heard those words in movies was when they were uttered nearing a break-up. “Wait! I mean… I-I love this, this- whatever this is,” She nearly stuttered, waving her hands almost frantically, an exasperated sigh rolling off her lips at her own inability to explain herself. She didn’t want to label whatever it was that drew them together, because she honestly had no clue what to label it as. “It’s just... Every time I inch closer to that feeling of happiness, bad things happen… And that scares me...”

Bucky watched the girl wave about her arms in frustration as she tried to explain what was on her mind, an adoring smile creeping up on his lips as he understood her perfectly. “You don’t have to worry,” He assured her with a calm voice, taking careful steps towards her as he took her slowly chilling hands into his own. “I promise you, nothing bad will happen. You’re safe - we’re safe. An as for us...” The playfulness returned to his voice as he gave her hands a soft squeeze, toying with the thought of there being an us to refer to in the first place. “We are in no rush.”

She pressed her lips together, wanting nothing more than to believe his words. She wanted to explore being happy, she wanted to explore what was brewing between the two of them, she just wanted to be sure that nothing was going to happen that could jeopardize this experience - that could hurt him. “James Buchanan Barnes, brooding dinosaur and part-time poet.” She managed to rekindle her sassy demeanor as she took note of the cute little rhyme to his words, it was unrelated but managed to lift the mood.

A loving laugh rolled down his throat at her comment, shaking his head, closing the distance between them once more. “Shut up, birthday gal.”

#bucky #bucky barnes #james bucky barnes #james barnes #james buchanan barnes #avengers #bucky drabble #bucky fan fiction #bucky scenario #bucky and oc #bucky x oc #avengers drabble #avengers fan fiction #avengers scenario #bucky imagine #winter lily saga

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blackholehuman · 8 years ago

Text

Keeping Good Company

Carry On AU inspired by a post made by @snowbazmysons. Chapter 61 ends much differently because Baz figures out a spell to cast Simon safely away: “Have a safe flight.”

Summary: Don’t let the title fool you. This just might break your heart.

Word Count: 10,150

BAZ

(Can I get him away from me without breaking any of his bones? What spell will keep him away,

so he doesn’t come running back into the fire?)

Then it comes to me.

“Simon,” I say, “I’m so sorry.”

“Baz, don’t!” His hands are cradling my face, and there’s fire in his beautiful eyes. He looks at me with genuine concern and worry that is spilling over with the tears on his cheeks. It’s how I know that the fire is near enough to end me.

So I kiss him. I think it may be the most tender thing I’ve ever done, let alone to Simon Snow. My right hand is on the back of his neck, pulling him closer to me, and my left is on his chest, over his heart, where I can feel his infernal cross burning my palm, but I couldn’t care less. Simon Snow is actually kissing me back. He hasn’t gone still and isn’t as shocked as I imagined he he would be, but the setting seems pretty accurate. My world is ending, and he’s ending it with me. And I’ve always known that this would end in flames.

I have said it before, and I will say it again. I always lose. My heart to Simon, and today, my life.

He hasn’t pulled away yet, but I can feel the distinct warmth of the fire about to take us over. At this point, if I go, he’ll go with me, but even I’m not that selfish. Simon Snow is going to save the world.

I pull away, and I tell him as much. “You are going to save us all. I love you, Simon.”

Thankfully, he’s too busy trying to stammer out a sentence that died in his throat, so when my wand touches his collarbone, he doesn’t flinch away.

I close my eyes, and inhale his scent. Smoky as always, sure, but there’s a hint of the wonderful aroma one gets as they walk into a bakery. I open my eyes again, and summon all the magic I have left in me. Because I’m pathetic, and weak, and I can’t help myself, I kiss his forehead. Quickly. When his eyes refocus, when I can see a plan brewing behind his eyes, when his tears stop and motivation is writ all over his face, I know it’s now or never.

I choose now.

My wand still lying lightly on his collarbone, I lean in and say to him, “Have a safe flight, Simon.”

The last thing I see before I go up in flames and turn to ash is Simon, propelled back over the flames with the weight of the spell, his hand still reaching for me.

Twenty Years Later

SIMON

I took a week off of work this year.

My boss asked, “Expecting company?” with raised eyebrows, because she’s quirky and has always teased me about my relationships, as I’m nearing forty without any family.

I don’t think she realizes the awful truth of it. I’m an orphan, and the only people who were ever motherly or fatherly towards me were killed twenty years ago this Boxing Day. The only person I had ever considered as family moved to America and started her own, without me. That’s not saying that Penny doesn’t speak to me anymore. We talk frequently over Skype, and she visits about twice a year. I’m her children’s godfather, but no matter how wonderful they are, I could never wish any ill on Penny or Micah.

But I’m still incredibly lonely. There’s been a hole in my chest since I was young, and not until recently did I realize that not everybody feels this way. That it’s just me that’s been missing something.

Depressing, I know. But like I said, I’m used to it. This is the life I’ve grown accustomed to.

It’s not really all that bad. I volunteer at any of my old orphanages on most weekends. I may never have as good a friend as Penny again, but I still am friends with some of the Watford graduates, despite my lack of magic. I go out to the pub with Rhys and Gareth once or twice every month, and I was a groom at each of their weddings. Trixie messages me sometimes over the various sources of social media we share. She and her wife are always kind to me, and I look after their daughter on their nights out. Which are few and far between, admittedly, but nice all the same. Even though it’s not often, Dev and Niall ask me out to coffee, even if it’s only because I was there when it happened.

His death still hurts, sometimes.

The last I saw of them, they were looking forlorn at the latest magickal news predicting the days the Veil would be open this year. They both looked at me expectantly.

“What?” I asked, because they clearly thought I was going to say something.

Dev was the first to speak, even if his voice came out small and vulnerable. War and death and time can do that to a person, I've learned.“Do you think you’ll have any Visitors?”

The question put me in a right foul mood, because it made me remember the worst year of my life, instead of it staying buried (along with his name) at the bottom of the list of Things I Don’t Think About. Ever. At All. For Any Reason Whatsoever. Even though I knew from the bottom of my heart that what Dev was asking was a valid question (they were cousins, after all) I still snapped at him.

“I dunno, Dev, you’ll have to be more specific. The only people I’ve ever cared about have all died. Who are you talking about?”

Niall has never been one to take any shit. He growled out, “Pack it in, mate. You know what he meant, and you’re not being very fair. That’s his cousin you’re talking to.”

Dev, looking all but dejected, stared into his coffee cup, not meeting anyone's eyes. He took a sip, before staring at me with all the intensity that he could muster, and saying, “If you do see him, tell him he didn’t really waste our childhood.”

This just made me even more depressed, because I really can’t picture him coming back, much less to me. He had already said his final truth, right before he went. He couldn't want vengeance for anything (he offed himself, the right prat) and his mother has already been avenged (Penny and I found out about the numpties from Fiona; we went to them and figured it all out. The Mage died trying to stop me from pouring my magic into the Humdrum).

I told them I didn’t think he’d come. “Maybe he’ll go see his family. Apologise, you know, that sort of thing.”

Dev considered this, and concluded, “I don’t think he could be sorry to his family. In the end, they were every bit as toxic as the Mage, weren’t they?” Snide comments against the Mage still sting a bit, even though I don’t know why. I thought I would outgrow the Mage- I certainly don’t respect him anymore. Nevertheless, I still feel the urge to come to his defense. I don’t, this time, for his sake.

The get-together ended dismally, but it was the first time I went home and unpacked a few of my thoughts. Just the ones about the dead and the gone. Never his name. It felt too sacred and scandalous at the same time. It was the one thing on the list I never considered taking off.

I realized by then, of course, that he was not the “rosebud boy” at all. From what I could gather from his family at the time, no one had even so much as uttered those words in the same sentence around him. I figured that it must have been my Mum, whoever she was. I think of her saying “I never would have left you,” and I feel at peace. But it leaves me with little consolation, because immediately after thinking this, I reckon that whoever my dad is, he did. Leave me, that is. I don’t expect to see him anytime soon.

The Mage, I did. I honest to Merlin expect an apology, and if he gives me any other kind of Chosen One crap, I’ll leave, and he can tell his secrets to the bloody fake Picasso I have hanging on the wall in my flat.

Ebb is also someone I plan to see, or at least hear about. Not because I think she’ll have anything she desperately needs to say to me, but because I think she and I could use nice friendly chat. She’s more likely to visit her brother Nicodemus though; in which case he and Fiona (they finally got married about seven years ago; lucky me, I was a groom for them too) will have me over to dinner to discuss. And she’ll probably hope against hope (like I do) that he has visited me, too.

I tried for a while not to think about these visitations. In my effort to ignore all this, however, I only thought about how he and I became friends (or at least, not enemies): his mother, mistaking her son to be in a place where she was called to, when at the time he was really in a coffin, drinking blood through a plastic straw.

What if my Mum came to my flat and I missed her because I was working a job I wasn’t even passionate about? What if she came to my office and was disappointed that all I ever accomplished was murdering the mage and then working a desk job for the rest of my life? How would I explain her presence to a Normal with no knowledge of magic?

When I couldn’t put these questions out of my mind, I decided to take a week’s holiday that corresponded to the Veil lifting.

I was upset to find that Penny wasn’t going to come back for the occasion. Her great aunt stopped coming when her Mum found the hidden library, full of magickal research.

“Besides,” she reasoned, as her children and Micah yelled over a video game they were playing in the background, “If anyone were to come and visit me, they would expect me to be here, wouldn’t they?” The Yankee accent had begun to take over her voice long ago, but it only mattered to me when I could really feel the distance between us, like I did then.

So, I’ve taken a week off work. I’ve stocked enough ingredients to make food for the entire week, and I have money to order delivery if I’m feeling lazy. I’ve already set up a list of books I need to read, movies I need to see, and shows that I can binge watch.

My boss was still looking at me expectantly. “Something like that,” I grin. Then feel sick, because it’s the last thing he ever said to Fiona. They were talking, unbeknownst to her, about me.

“Basil. Have you met a bloke?”

She told me his smile was made of trouble. Not the sneer or smirk I was accustomed to, but a real, genuine smile, that told her he must have been happy in his plotting.

“Something like that.” ~~~~~

This is the very first night. Already, a chill has swept through my entire flat. I was prepared for this: I wore a jumper and sweatpants for the occasion. Freshly opened fuzzy-socks were on my feet, and I slid around my home as I went about making dinner.

“Simon,” came a weepy voice, “my rosebud boy.” It drifted from the kitchen where I was standing to the lounge, in a whisper, as if it were a temporary wind. I thought I was prepared, but I still shiver when I recognize my Mum’s voice. I follow it out to the open space, eyes darting across the room looking for her.

“I never would have left you,” it came again, but it reverberated off the walls and I couldn’t place where it came from. “I didn’t have enough life, in the end, you must understand. I didn’t even have enough life in me to be properly dead.”

A beautiful, albeit self depreciating, laugh came from a space somewhere in front of my fake Picasso painting. The chill in the room began to waft to the spot, accumulating into a milky white mist. My mum began to form from the mist from the ground up, until finally, I could see her face.

She beams at me, and I can feel my eyes already starting to leak. She reaches for me, and I move closer to her. She puts her hand on my cheek, and it’s cool and sloshy. It doesn’t feel exactly solid; more like crumpled gelatin. Mushy. Cold.

“Handsome,” she decides, eyeing me closely. “My wavy hair, and big blue eyes. All of my freckles, too,” she giggles.

“Mum,” I say, but that’s all I can manage. Besides, she’s here to speak to me.

She understands immediately. “Simon, I came back to tell you I loved you before I met you, and I loved you more the moment I held you. I never would have left you. Simon. I wish I could have been here with you. And now look, you’re all grown up-”

“And all alone, Mum. I miss you and I’ve never met you either-”

“Simon, my dear rosebud boy, you could never be alone even if you tried. My love follows you wherever you go. And my brother, your uncle, he lives. You could find him” she interrupted, breathlessly. She was crying too, tiny beads of crystal on her cheek, “I have spoken my truth, it won’t be long now. I need answers- do you bear the name Snow?”

“Yes,” I breathed, “My last name.”

“Simon,” she says, and it sounds exasperated, but she’s smiling. “That was supposed to be your middle name. Had I lived, I would have given you my name. Salisbury,” she added, acknowledging my wonder, “Lucy Salisbury.”

She clutched at my hands, as if trying to stay tethered to me. I let her, even as goosebumps rolled up my arms all the way to my shoulders. “Your father made many mistakes. It gave and cost you your magic. It cost me my life. I believe he is sorry.”

She was getting blurry around the edges now, and I was afraid she would melt away. I feared squeezing her hands, because I thought they might fall apart.

“Mum, I would’ve loved you both,” I say, because it was true.

The last look she gave me was pitying but full of love. “Oh Simon,” she says, sighing, and the breath she lets out leaves her with a bundle of mist, “You did love him. I hope you can find it in your heart to forgive him, You have my kindness, my rosebud boy.” Mist tumbled out of her mouth, every word costing her time on this plane of existence with me. The last words were mere whispers, and her body dissolved, leaving my hands gripping empty space.

“He’s coming…” It was her last whisper, but it echoed around the room several times. Her last truth.

She looked like I did, or so she said. Lucy Salisbury… and she had mentioned magic. Did that mean she herself was a witch? Did she go to Watford too? Do I really have an uncle? A family, perhaps? Salisbury… Hm. I knew I had some investigating to do.

And my father. He was coming...

This could all wait, though. For now, I was going to write down the entire encounter, and get some rest.

~~~~~

I’m quietly eating my chow mein on a comfortable armchair in the lounge while having a solo Star Wars marathon when a chill sweeps through me so piercing that I drop the fork. The mist in the room gathers more quickly this time, right in front of the telly. The magic of it all interferes with Darth Vader dramatically telling Luke that he is his father.

I don’t have to wait for the Mage to materialize; he does so instantly. With what Mum said about magic and death, I suppose it means that the more magic you have, the easier it is for you to cross the veil.

I jump to my feet and ball my fists. I can’t decide whether I feel angry or guilty. Maybe both, at the same time.

“Simon,” says the Mage, “I have something very important to say. You’re going to sit next to me, and you are going to listen without interrupting. You’ll have every right to be angry later. Please, let’s sit.”

The Mage moved towards the couch across from him and sat down. As I join him him, I realize that the Mage must have been at my current age when he died. The thought makes my insides boil with an emotion I rarely ever feel. To distract myself, I think of his form. The Mage is made out of very different stuff than Mum was. He was more of a heavily condensed fog, but he was solid enough to sit and leave an imprint in the couch.

“I have made many mistakes, Simon. And you were perhaps the biggest one of them all.”

I open my mouth to speak, then close it again, remembering my promise.

“I should never have immersed myself in the prophesies. I know now what is important, and what is not. I guaranteed from the beginning that you would not have a family, a most cardinal sin.

“You would’ve had magic anyway, Simon. The only reason it’s gone is because of the stupid rituals I performed when your mother was pregnant. I fear what I did brought her death, too, in the end. You see, I wanted you to be the Chosen One, more than anything in the world.”

He takes a deep breath before beginning again. “I should have started this differently. Oh, well. I assume we have time, since there is much I need to say. Simon, your last name ought to have been Salisbury, and your middle name Snow, but I was a coward. I am your father.”

My mind reels, and I think I might be sick.

“I promised Lucy I’d take care of you, but I was afraid I would be sought after. You were a superweapon right from the start, and my career as a politician would’ve been hampered with an explosive baby. I left you at an orphanage because I knew you would be safe there until I could collect you. I was so happy when I found you again. I swore to myself I would get it right this time.

“Then, of course, the Insidious Humdrum became a problem, as did the Old Families. I could not reveal you as my true son- they would have known, instantly, that there was Dark magic involved. They wouldn’t have laughed even at the notion that the magic itself was hidden in Bohemian Rhapsody.

“There is no excuse for my wild fantasy of a Chosen One. I’m afraid I’ve damaged you too much to repair, and I’ve taken everyone you loved from you. Your mum, Ebb… Penny is alive and well of course, but I will admit she would have met the same fate as the others if she had taken you away from me like I know she planned to do.

“I had no regrets at the time. I thought it was all for the greater good. Natasha Pitch was a sacrifice that had to be made, and the tortured life her son endured helped him stay self-conscious and out of my way. I truly believed everything I had done was benefiting people. The only thing I don’t regret now is that you have lived, and that anyone with the ability to do magic can be taught at Watford. Everything else, however, I realize now was wrong, awful, and very near unforgivable.”

He bowed his head, apparently done with what he was saying.

My brain felt fuzzy, and my stomach was still turning as I digested all of this information.

Some part of me wanted to latch on to his statement of him being my father, and the other part on the prophecy and magic that he bestowed on me. It was my heart, however, that broke as it won over all the other things I was thinking of saying.

“You are such an arsehole. And you could never be my father.”

The Mage deflates a bit, and says, “I hope one day you can forgive me for the damage I’ve caused.”

“Mum told me that too, said that I’d inherited her kindness.” The Mage looked at me hopefully, but I shook my head fiercely. “But apparently, I’ve also inherited your tendency to be bitter and cruel.”

The Mage’s eyes went glassy and he smiled in a sad, pathetic way, as if asking for mercy. “I’ll hold on as long as I can, Simon, if only just to appreciate the man you’ve become. I’ve said my truths, so I’ll be called away, but until then, haven’t you any questions for me?”

I jumped up, the rage in my stomach boiling over. I grit my teeth, and say, “And the numpties? Were they for the greater good as well?”

“Yes, but I regret it deeply,” he admits, and his face is so full of his pity for me I have to turn away. The image of him scared and alone in a coffin for so long seeps into my mind, unwelcome. It brings hot, angry tears to my eyes. My attempts to blink them away only make more of them come out and fall onto my cheeks.

Instead, I try to remember when Penny and I figured out I was the greatest threat of all to the World of Mages. I remember her connecting it to the prophecy, saying that I came to end it all, and brought my own fall with my sacrifice to the Humdrum.

“Was it you or me the prophecy spoke of?” I say, trying to control my voice.

“It was a combination of the two, though more so you. I may have brought you into the world, but you were the one to use up all of its magic.”

“Did I also bring my own fall, then?” I snap, but I’m still not facing him.

“No, no you didn’t. The thing that did called upon the most curious magic, if I might say.”

I turn around, and the Mage is already transparent, disappearing into a light fog. The blue couch is visible beneath him, adding to the sadness etched on his face.

“What did it, then?”

“Oh, Simon. Him, of course..”

“What do you- who do you mean? How-?” I demanded, but the Mage was already gone.

Once again, just like my Mum, the last truth whispered by the Mage echoed on the walls of my flat.

“Fell in love, didn’t you?”

~~~~~

The Mage’s Visit made me sick. Literally. I slept half a day after the encounter, and vomited as soon as I got up. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t make myself feel warm for two days.

It’s Wednesday, and today is the fourth day of the veil being open. Luckily, nothing has happened since the Mage came on Monday, because I would have been too sick to handle it.

I think the sickness came out of all the thinking the Visits of my Mum and the Mage made me do. I worry that this means I have to go back to therapy. This is upsetting because I had been doing so well without it for the past twelve years. It would be embarrassing to call her up again, just to say, “Guess what? I’m still fucked!”

I’m currently laying in my bed, considering cancelling the rest of my holiday and going back to work. After all, the only two people I had really expected to show up had already done so, and the fact that I had nothing to do was the reason I was thinking so much, and therefore the reason for my being ill. And I’ve grown so familiar with all the cracks on my ceiling!

I am too much of a softie to actually go back though. The big hole in my heart has taken me over, and it’s all I can do to wish they’d come to Visit me.

At least Ebb. She was always the one I could talk to.

“Hiya, Simon,” says Ebb’s voice, as if I had just summoned her out of thin air. I startle, and sit up. She’s sitting on the edge of my bed, laughing at my surprise. I think it’s the first time she’s ever not been so melancholy or weepy. The lines on her face indicate that her afterlife must be wrought with happiness.

I grin despite myself. “Hiya, Ebb.”

“Snake’s alive, Simon, you’re as pale as a vampire! Have you been ill?”

I try, and barely succeed, not to think of the vampire comment. “A bit. Haven’t been out of bed for a while, to be honest.” I climb out of bed.

She smiles and understands. “I’m not the first one, am I?”

“Third, actually,” I say, as she comes around the bed and links her arm in mine. Ebb’s body is still white and cold, but she’s as solid as ice. It’s comforting. She leads us out to the lounge, heading to the couch I’d talked to the Mage on. “I finally found out who my mum and dad were- Lucy Salisbury and…” I gulp, swallowing what felt like hatred. “The Mage,” I say at last.

“Oh dear,” she says, sitting down and getting comfortable. She looks relaxed and at peace, and I can’t help but feel that way too, sitting beside her. She puts her hand on my shoulder, considering something.

“You’re older than me now,” she points out at last.

It’s such an Ebb thing to say, that I laugh out loud.

“It’s not as weird as my twin being older, though.”

“You’ve seen Nicodemus?”

“Yeah. Gave him a right scare too, nearly let Fiona hex me.”

“Is that why you came back?”

“I had to tell him I didn’t blame him for anything, and that I was happy he’s turned around. Pun intended.”

“Why’d you come here then?” I ask, now smiling on the inside as well.

She looks at me, and it’s full of kindness. “I was powerful enough to- and I think we both know you needed it, Simon.”

I examine my hands in my lap, and Ebb looks around. “Nice place you’ve got here,” she muses.

“Thanks, I quite like it myself.”

Ebb gets up and walks over to my fake Picasso. “Although, it is a bit bare- except… This is lovely, what is it?”

“The salesperson told me it was violin cubism? I have no idea what means, exactly, or who actually painted it. I just call it my fake Picasso.”

She stares at it a bit more, before turning back to look at me. There’s pity in her eyes, and I wonder when people (Visitors, mostly) will stop looking at me like that. It makes me feel trapped or cornered. With Ebb, it’s even worse, because she’s so powerful I’m afraid she might try to read my mind or something.

All she says, however, is, “Simon, that’s a violin.”

I squirm under her gaze, and it’s all I can do to nod.

Ebb sighs and walks back over to me, grabbing my hand and pulling me up into a tight hug.

“Oh, Simon.”

I squeeze her, digging my face into the space between her head and neck. Her body is cool, and it calms me down, even though I know our time is running out. “Ebb, everyone’s said that to me. Everyone’s pitied me. Why?”

She grabs me by the shoulders and makes me face her. Her milky eyes bore into mine, and I know we’ve only got seconds left. She’s not melting like my mother, though, or fading like the Mage. She’s a strong, solid mass, and her fingers are digging into my shoulders.

“Because we miss you, Simon! Because we see you here, alone and unhappy, and we just want to give you the world. We may be biased, but you definitely deserve it. Whatever you may say, you saved us all.”

My eyes are watering for several reasons at this point. She’s just used his last words against me, but I don’t want her to leave me, and her hands are also digging so hard into my shoulders that it’s painful. I’m almost positive she’ll be the last one (there is still that part of me, though, hoping he’ll show up).

“Please don’t leave me,” I whisper, and her face falls into the most sincere and well meaning smile I’ve ever seen. She puts her left hand on my chest, and I’m surprised to feel that it’s warm. I look at her with shock obvious on my features. A single tear falls from her right eye, but she still smiles.

“The ones that love us never really leave us,” Ebb says at last, and I swear to Merlin and Morgana both that she says it with magic. Don’t ask me how it’s possible, but I can feel something warm seep from her hand, and it flows through my body.

Ebb vanishes without the dramatics of my Mum or the Mage. She’s just… gone.

The warmth she casted on me leaves with her in a rush. I collapse onto the couch, sobbing in earnest for the first time this week. The gaping void inside me feels like a black hole, and I would like nothing better than to disappear inside it for eternity.

If I did, maybe I would see him again.

~~~~~

The days after Ebb leaves, after I cried myself to sleep, I spend in a more relaxed peace. The loss of them still hurts, and I still can’t wait until I see them again, but Ebb reminded me that I’ll always have my memories of them. The fondest ones I keep tucked into the corners of my mind, and I decided to only use them in times of great distress.

That is to say, I spent the next few days clearing my head.

I went outside, no longer afraid to miss a Visitor. There was no one left to see. The walks I went on revealed to me areas of London I’d never even considered before, because I’ve kept myself busy over the years. I Skyped Penny, and told her everything (except for the pity and “Oh, Simon’s.” I also didn’t tell her about Ebb’s spell) and she was very interested to hear about my Mum, and pleased that I stood up to the Mage. I stopped by the orphanage I volunteer at sometimes, making sure to donate money on the way out.

It’s Saturday, and the last day before the Veil closes. My flat is on the fourth and final floor of the building, and the view from the balcony is impeccably gorgeous. I sit in the patio chairs with a glass of iced lemonade next to me ( because I never grew fond of alcohol). The day was hot, but it’s nice out as the sun sets over the city. I watch as lights flicker on in the buildings across the landscape. A warm breeze seems to curl around me, bringing with it a familiar scent that I can’t quite place. It leaves me to think about Watford, though I don’t know why.

A knock on my door jolts me out of my thoughts, and my arms flail, knocking over the lemonade, glass shattering everywhere. I swear, and think that this is one of the moments that I miss my magic the most. If I had magic, I could fix this no problem, but now I have to decide whether I should clean up the mess or check to see who could possibly be asking for me.

I clean up the pieces first, figuring that I can think about who it is while I’m at it. Penny? No, I Skyped her last night, and she would’ve told me if she was coming. Come to think of it, it couldn’t be any of my other friends, because they all would have texted first. Who would show up on my door unannounced?

Whoever they are knocks on the door again as I’m putting the broken glass into the rubbish bin.

“Coming, I’m coming,” I say, hurriedly shuffling towards the door clapping my hands together to get any dirt or whatever off them. I don’t even think about what I’m wearing (still in sweatpants, an old t-shirt, and fuzzy socks) before throwing the door wide open.

He’s dressed in a sharp dark blue suit. Dark hair is hanging loosely around his eyes. He’s still taller than me, and as fucking posh as ever.

But there are many changes to him too: gone is the pasty grey skin (one of the many tell-tale signs of a vampire), replaced by the beautiful reddish brown I saw in a photograph of him when he was younger than five. Gone is the sneer that I knew like the back of my hand, and in it’s place the most gorgeous smile I’ve ever seen. He looks like Fiona said he did, leaving her house that day- made of trouble.

At first, I thought he must be a Visitor. But then I went as pale as a Visitor, because he was definitely in color, and even more solid than Ebb. I can smell the aroma that carried on the breeze earlier, and I know he’s here.

He’s actually here.

I think I stare at him for a full minute before his grin begins to falter, and he looks worried.

He opens his mouth to say something, reaching for me. I catch a glimpse of a cross-shaped burn on his hand.

I back away. As I do so, however, I trip on the doorstep and land flat on my back, smacking my head on the hardwood in a way that tells me I’ll have a bruise there in the morning. I scramble to get up and dash inside despite the pain. Except, when I’m inside, I don’t know what to do. A bachelor’s flat doesn’t have many hiding spots, and I’m sure he’ll follow me. In my rush to get away, I hadn’t even closed the door.

So I just stand there, in the center of the lounge, with my hands balled tightly into fists and eyes screwed shut. I’m facing the door, so perhaps when I open them, he’ll be gone. I wouldn’t be surprised if it was all my imagination.

Instead, the complete opposite happens. I hear the door squeak and close, footsteps that lead right to me. I can smell him properly now- still cedar and bergamot, after all these years. He’s so close I can feel the heat from his body (this is also new- from what I remember, his skin was always icy cold).

Nothing happens for a moment.

Then, he leans over me, and his hair falls into my face a bit. One of his warm, slender-fingered hands is tilting my chin up ever so slightly.

It’s the most intimate kiss I’ve ever had, except for one in the midst of a fiery inferno twenty years ago. The image of him, at seventeen, leaning against a burning tree and pulling me towards him plays over and over behind my eyelids. The warmth of his body is almost too much- I feel like I’m there again, like he’s going to make me fly backwards any second now.

But neither of us pulls away. Neither of us even moves.

Then I break my most closely followed rule, and I remember his name.

Baz. Baz is back.

Truth be told, this should be setting alarms off in my head. But my brain is fuzzy, because Baz has just deepened the kiss, pulling me forward gently by the arm and fitting me like a puzzle piece against his body.

The hand on my chin slides to cup my cheek, and I lean into the touch, making our lips slide and come back together again. The hand on my arm snakes around and holds me tight on my lower back.

Baz, to my surprise, pulls away first. He rests his forehead against mine, and neither of us say anything. I’m trying very hard not to hyperventilate.

Nothing happens for a moment. He ducks down and places his head in the space where my neck and shoulder meet. I can feel his breath on my skin, and it’s so warm that I shiver. His lips find the skin and kiss me very softly.

Baz sighs. “Oh, Simon.”

Everything is starting to make sense…

Wait.

No it’s not.

I push him away.

I didn’t expect him to stagger backwards and almost fall, but that’s what happened. I don’t think I’ve ever been able to push him over (without magic) before. Something weird has happened to him.

“You’re dead!” I shout. His face falls and there is deep sorrow that follows the thin lines of his face.

Baz holds my gaze despite his sadness. “I was,” is all he says. Unable to look at me anymore, he turns- and is transfixed by the fake Picasso in my room. His intake of breath is sharp as a knife. My stomach tightens itself into knots.

“Past tense?” I question. “So you’re not just a Visitor?”

He scoffs. “Yeah, Snow. I’m a Visitor with dark skin, black hair, and a full on navy blue colored suit. I’m sure your mother turned up the same way?”

I like this version of Baz better right now. He’s every bit the poncy git he was when we were at school. This is the Baz I can handle.

A jab at my mother back then would have made my magic prick my skin. I relish in the fact that I’m arguing with him and can actually keep my cool. I roll my eyes, for the effect, and say, “Hardly. She, my dad, and Ebb were all white.”

Interest takes over his carefully controlled features. “Your- your dad?”

I’ve never heard him second guess a sentence. The sincerity in his voice throws me off, and also makes me remember who my dad actually is. Maybe I shouldn’t have mentioned it.

But I nod slowly anyway, and when I speak, it comes out a whisper, “The Mage.”

Baz turns back towards the painting, glaring at it as if it offended him somehow. His hands are clenched tight, and his knuckles are turning white. His jaw is working, and he’s sucking on his fangs, like he always used to when they were young-

Wait- no he wasn’t. Baz was just chewing on his lower lip. His mouth didn’t even look full like it usually did when his control slipped and anger showed.

I sputtered in my attempt to speak, and he turned around, raising an elegant eyebrow at me, all talk about the Mage forgotten.

“Are you- are you still a vampire?”

Baz held out his hands in front of him as if examining a manicure, and then turned them over, palm up. He smiled in a reminiscing way as his right thumb caresses something I can’t see in his left palm. He shows me, still smiling. “Do you still have that necklace? We can test it out.”

Of course I still have that necklace. It’s sitting in my sock drawer, right next to his wand.

I suppose it’s a bit selfish, not returning Baz’s wand to his family (I had just told them it must’ve burnt) but I kept it because it was all that was left of him. It felt right, because he gave everything to me in those last few seconds- why should his wand be any exception? I gesture for Baz to follow me into the bedroom. I desperately hope he’s not thinking that I’m going to try and seduce him. I hope that all of this is just as weird for him as it is for me. When we get to the room, I open the drawer of the dresser and hand him the cross.

There’s no reaction. It’s in his palm, and he’s just staring at it. A wide grin takes over his face, and he says, “Guess not.”

What can you say to that? I had no answer to offer, so instead I handed him his old wand. He took it, confused, and asked, “Why did you keep this?”

I shrug, “It’s yours.”

He looks at me like he’s looking at the sun; squinting, like he’s suspicious. Then he takes my hand, and bellows, “Twinkle Twinkle Little Star!”

And we’re in space again. Even without my magic flowing through him, we’re in space. Baz breaks into a delighted laugh, and I manage a half smile. He pulls me into a tight hug, dropping his wand in the process. The stars are all sucked away, vacuum-like, into the walls of my room. I watch them go; when I turn back, Baz’s attention is solely on me.

“I don’t know if I’m here to stay,” he says, and doesn’t elaborate. He casts the necklace aside. It clatters to the floor in the corner of the room.

I’m looking at him with what is possible to be my most confused look yet. He’s moving towards me with the expression he always wore when he was about to attack.

“I don’t want to waste my time.”

It slowly dawns on me what he’s trying to say, and he stops, inches from my face. I get the message: he’s asking me for permission.

I grant it. The kiss this time is more frantic, and we’re already trying to tug each other’s shirts off. My shirt is discarded easily, and Baz wastes no time in kissing my neck all the way to my chest, hitting every visible mole and freckle. This makes it hard for me to get to his several layers of clothes, so his hands leave me for a moment to get rid of of them.

I can’t help it: I open my eyes a fraction to see his bare chest. Then all the way, because he’s gorgeous. Baz notices (I’ve stopped everything just to stare at that point), and his eyes get impossibly hungrier.

It’s hard to image Baz has ever been dead. His skin is bright and hot with lust, and his chest is rising and falling as he recovers from the lack of air one experiences while having their lips attached to somebody else’s body. I look down at my own body, to find it already covered with hickeys. Baz follows my gaze, and traces the biggest one with a long finger. I groan.

“So you can remember me,” he starts softly, “If-”

But I don’t let him finish the sentence, or the thought. I collide with his mouth so hard, I cut my lip on his teeth, but it’s alright, because he’s not a vampire anymore.

He’s just as strong as one though; he picks me up as if it were nothing to him. My legs wrap around his waist of their own accord and I feel about twenty years younger as he walks over and lays me down onto the bed. Baz is predatory as he crawls over my body and presses himself against me. I feel something warm and wet trailing from the base of my neck up to my ear, and I know he’s just licked me. I shudder, and goosebumps appear all over my skin. I know he’s smiling as he nibbles on my earlobe- which, Merlin help me, makes me lose complete control. I moan and my hips buck up the at the same time Baz’s are rolling down.

He swears, loudly, then stills. I want him to keep moving, but he’s shaking his head into my neck and panting hard.

“I can’t do this to you again, Simon,” he props himself up on both elbows while his hands thread themselves into my hair. Our foreheads are almost touching. “I can’t leave you with such a heavy burden again. Last time- I know I’ve hurt you. I’m so, so sorry.”

I press our foreheads together because he’s too intense to look at right now. I’ve never seen Baz cry, and I don’t want tonight to the first time. (Neither does he, I think that’s what this is about. Although for something completely different. If I hadn’t been starved of contact for two whole decades I might agree with him a bit).

I swallow my disagreement, because the last thing I want to do is to scare him away. Instead, I mutter, “Stay.”

I feel, rather than see, Baz moving off of me. For a moment I’m worried he’s going to leave anyway, and I open my eyes just as his hands find me to pull me closer to him. We’re both laying on our sides: his face and one of his hands in my hair, muttering sweet nothings (“It’s always been you, Simon.” “My love, you are the universe.” Even cheesy things like: “Even though you aren’t the Chosen One, I choose you.”) while toying with the curls. His other hand is intertwined with mine somewhere near our hips. My nose is against his chest, and I take advantage of the situation to memorize his scent, while my other hand lays over his heart.

We fall asleep like this, tangled up in a knot that feels like infinity.

~~~~~

I wake up in the morning to find Baz still laying there next to me. The Veil has closed, and he’s right here.

I’ll admit: it freaked me out so bad I fell out of bed. I climb back up though, and touch his face, barely breathing.

He’s solid, warm, and breathing deeply. His skin is glowing bronze in the sunlight filtering in through the window, catching the morning sun. Baz doesn’t wince or yell at me to close the curtains, so I leave them, and enjoy the feeling of blood pumping through the veins in his cheeks.

Baz stirs a bit, leaning into my touch and smiling slightly.

Does he know that he’s alive?

Do I? Could I be just dreaming? Could life be so cruel…

“This is real,” Baz mutters, and he doesn’t move his lips so I question again whether this is happening. He opens his eyes, and they swirl with all the colors of London fog. And then, just to be sure, Baz lifted a hand to my face, rubbing his thumb against my cheek.

I grin as the void inside me begins to fill.

~~~~~

BAZ

As it turns out, Bunce (of course she didn’t take Micah’s last name, she hasn’t changed that much, surely) never specifically told Simon her area of study. Just that she was a professor at UCSD. She taught politics and feminism (or something) to Normals, but they were really paying her to do research on the Veil.

Imagine the Skype call Simon insisted we make on the afternoon I was decidedly alive.

“Simon, good to see you. Are you alright? Trying to put past week behind you, I’m sure,” she started, after casting a spell to have better connection. Her face went suddenly pensive, then she said in a whisper, “Did he show up?”

This was my cue. Simon grinned as I came up from behind him to plant a kiss on his forehead, and said, “I dunno, Penny, you tell me.”

I looked right into the camera, and Bunce was staring back, stiff as a board and utterly stunned. She’s certainly changed a lot since we were eighteen. Bunce is keeping it natural these days: frizzy brown hair escaping the knot she’s tied it in, sleep bags that tell me right off the bat she has children, possibly even a teenager. Even her glasses are new, trading the eccentric ones for a pair of smart, thin rimmed ones that make her look scholarly.

The most notable difference is that she’s aged. She’s got permanent lines on her face that indicate a long life of happiness and laughter and driving her kids to football (or as she calls it now, soccer) or to family picnics.

I’ve missed out on all theses experiences. When I looked at Penelope Bunce, I, too, was shocked to stillness.

She recovered first, and decided something very quickly. “I’ll be there in two days, boys. Please don’t ruin the flat in the meantime.” Bunce has never done anything by halves.

“No promises on the master, love,” Simon retorted, quick as lightning.

It broke me out of my daze, and my laugh was like thunder.

Bunce scowled, but looked amused, all the same, and ended the Skype call.

“Alright, Basilton, talk,” Bunce demands now over a bowl of curry. All three of us are standing in Simon’s kitchen, because I felt weird with the sitting. I hadn’t seen them in so long that watching their bodies fold away while sitting terrified me- like they were disappearing. Bunce was extremely confused this statement, which I voiced aloud, but Simon took it in stride and moved us here. I think he assumes I’ll be a little unknowable and fucked up for a while. It’s incredibly thoughtful of him. Bunce looks like she’s going to continue the thought, but I interrupt her anyway, for the sake of clarity.

“I can’t remember anything clearly, and I hadn’t really realized how much time had passed until Simon opened the door. What I can remember though, is not a memory, but a feeling, like thick steam all around me. Oh, and I’m not a vampire anymore either,” I add, because I was proud that I have not had even the faintest urge to drain anything of its life since I’ve been back.

She eyes me for a second, and I can’t tell whether she’s going to chastise me for interrupting or if she’s going to start anew from where I’ve left off. She chooses the latter, and says, “I think that matches one of the hypotheses my colleague came up with. Purgatory.”

Simon and I stare at her, waiting for the elaboration.

“We can’t presume to know how the afterlife works or if it even exists. Not a soul who has crossed the Veil can ‘remember’ anything beyond the Veil, and so nobody knows what it’s like. The existence of the Veil, however, suggests an afterlife, yes?” She’s checking for understanding, and Simon and I both nod.

“So when someone dies, how do they get to this afterlife? How do some of them get stuck so that they remain for when the Veil lifts? My colleague- he grew up in a very Catholic neighbourhood, and he described to us all that in that religion there is a place where souls are sometimes sent to wait before God can decide whether to send them to Heaven or Hell.”

“But there is no God,” Simon protests.

“I know, but there is an afterlife, which we proved before.”

Simon ponders this, before saying, “Yeah, okay. I see,” and gesturing for her to continue.

“If the soul is deemed worthy of Heaven, Purgatory acts as a cleanser for all sins and other mortal, earthly disaster, and the end result is a pure soul, worthy of Heaven.”

“Are you saying-” I begin, unsure whether I was offended by that or not.

“I wasn’t finished. We know that the Visitors can cross when the Veil has lifted only if they have something important that they really need to say. And that once it’s said and taken care of, they don’t return. You’re mother didn’t come back this year, Baz. I told your family to notify me, but nothing came of it.”

My mind stops for a second, because all at once I remember why I fucking killed myself in the first place. I can feel rage that’s been boiling inside me for two decades resurface. I haven’t felt like this yet- it makes me feel like I’ve been living in a dream state with Simon the past forty eight hours. I probably have.

I open myself to say something, probably very nasty, when Bunce shoots a dark look at Simon. “You haven’t told him?” she hissed.

Simon all but shrank into the counter he was leaning on. “We’ve been busy!”

“So busy you couldn’t talk about how we avenged his mother for him because he was too much of a coward to carry on?”

“Penny!”

“Bunce, you little-”

“NO!” she yells, and we both fall silent.

Now I know that I’ve been in a dream state. Simon looks as if he’s about to cry, and won’t look at me. Bunce is taking turns glaring daggers at the two of us, and I’m still seething from being called a coward.

However true it may be, it still hurts.

“It’s not my story to tell,” she decides, “I’ll forgive this little honeymoon, but now… Now it’s time to face reality again.”

Simon, whose eyes are wetter than they were mere seconds ago, swallows visibly, and I realize that Bunce and I are both watching him. Me, because I can’t help it. But Bunce looks like she’s asking for his permission to continue.

He looks away from us again, but nods slowly. Aleister Crowley, I wonder. What happened that was bad enough to take the sunshine out of his life?

I think of the fact that Simon hasn’t used magic since I’ve been here. I think about the flat’s empty surfaces where I would have expected, after twenty years, photos of family and friends to be. The furniture has color, but it’s all dull or plain. The walls are white and bare, save for the painting. The violin cubism, Simon’s fake Picasso. What made him so empty and sad?

The violin cubism sticks in my head.

Violin cubism.

Well, fuck.

I reach out to him, trying very hard to shove down my feelings of anger and guilt and regret with the contact of his arm gripped tightly in my hand. He still doesn’t look at me, though.

“Simon.” My voice is stern, but lacks the ice I so often wove into my conversations as a teenager. “Simon, feel my hand? This is real.”

Bunce is studying us closely. Simon finally turns around. He doesn’t make eye contact with either of us (merely looking down at his fuzzy-socked feet) but he shuffles closer to me.

Penelope Bunce, the wonderful woman, had already voiced her recognition of dropping the subject, and she just picked up where she had left off before.

“So, if you get the similarities, the Veil acts as the theoretical Purgatory. You move on once you’ve said your truth.”

“Or in other words, shed your sins.”

“Right.”

“What does this have to do with me, though?”

Bunce- Penny (I should really call her that, now. I owe her that much at the very least), pauses before saying, “That’s the second part of the theory. Basil, this isn’t common knowledge here in the UK because we’ve become inherently speciesist, but there’s been plenty of research done on the subject in America. Vampires are immortal.”

The room is very silent, all of a sudden. I’m not sure anyone’s breathing.

“First and foremost, though- I’m sorry I don’t have a better way to put it- vampires are unnatural creatures. Super strength and immortality, being dead without actually dying, only to be felled by fire. It goes against magical laws of nature, which- yes, Simon, those exist, much like the laws of physics,” she add, because Simon’s head had snapped up towards her about to ask something.

“They theorized that if a vampire had some final truth to tell, when the Veil pulled them back, they would be rid of everything that makes them a vampire: fangs, the want for blood, pasty skin, etcetera.

“The arithmancy behind this idea has a huge problem with the immortality portion, though, especially since the immortality aspect is due to the fact that vampires are like walking corpses.” I cringe, and Penny shoots me an apologetic look before continuing. “This could trick the Veil into spitting them back out into the real world, as they were before. Hence, why you are with us now, Basil.”

Simon is still looking at the floor. His brows are furrowed in concentration, lips moving. It’s like he’s trying really hard to remember something to question or add to Penny’s theories.

I stare at him because I’ve always loved watching him think.

Penny stares at us, because we’re acting strange.

Eventually she heaves an exasperated sigh, gathering her scattered belongings strewn about the kitchen.

“I’ll leave you two to it tonight. Simon, I expect you to contact me tomorrow. I’ll be here for a week, mostly at Watford, interviewing people who were Visited.” She walks over to him and wraps him in a great hug that he returns. Penny says something into his ear, and I can just see the corners of his mouth turning up, though most of his face is pressed along her shoulder. He pads out of the room when she releases him, looking sleepy.

It’s all I can do not to follow. Then again, Penny is staring at me with such intent that I’m pinned to the spot.

“Take care of him.” Its an order, not a question.

“Always.” It’s the truth, not just a word depicting a great expanse of time.

She gives me a curt nod, and lets herself out of the flat.

I rush off to find Simon in the master bed, curled up in a ball. His knees drawn into his chest and his arms locked in front of them. I have him memorized in this position; he used to sleep like this at Watford. His eyes are glassy and his mind is far away.

I kiss his temple before curling around him, moving my arms around his torso and getting myself as close to him as possible. Simon blinks out of his daze and slowly unfurls his body to a more relaxed position that better fits mine. He closes his eyes.

What I say next, I say it because I regret missing twenty years of what I now know could have been our lives together. I say it because I should have been saying it to him since I was fifteen. I say it because it’s important and the truth.

“I love you, Simon Snow.”

Sleep pulls me. I hold on to Simon, and let time pass in darkness once again.

~~~~~

SIMON

Once Baz was back, I realized that one week wasn’t enough to be on holiday.

He had missed twenty years of goings on: weddings (I haven’t explained Fiona and Nicodemus yet, because I know he won’t be pleased), family, friends. I can’t say that I’m caught up on current global events (once I didn’t have to care about them anymore, I didn’t) but I know those would be important to him.

Long story short, I’m quitting my job.

I didn’t hate it, exactly. It kept me busy, which is to say, distracted. I always felt numb. I know that this is because I used my job as a way to pretend the gaping hole inside me could be filled. And then Baz came back, and fucked it all up.

He reminded me that he was the heir to the House of Pitch, and that we wouldn’t have to want for money (even though we haven’t figured out how to introduce him back into society). I showed him the safe where I keep the money from book royalties (several have been written about me; they all range from historical nonfiction to speculation and mental but novel length conspiracy theories). Baz wondered out loud why in hell did I need a boring desk job when I made so much off of these, at which time I told him about the constant emptiness in my chest.

He told me that we had the rest of our lives for him to make up for it. I suppose he’s right.

When I go to my boss the Wednesday after the Veil closed, she smiles, even though I haven’t shown up in eight days. She smiles straight through the news that I was quitting immediately, too. I’m instantly suspicious, but she just looks happy for me.

“Did you find good company, then?” Her eyebrows are raised, but there is good naturedness written all over her features.

“Something like that,” I grin back.

#carry on #fanfiction #my writing #simon snow #baz pitch #snowbaz #AU #chapter 61 #angst #fluff #flangst #?#tagging sucks #simon #baz

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