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buckysforeverprincess · 4 years

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New Plan of Attack Ch. 6

Dark Viking! James Barnes, Natasha Romonoff

Words: 1704

Warnings: None. This chapter is pretty tame but necessary.

A/N: Welcome back! Hope you’re enjoying this series as much as I am. This chapter is pretty mellow, but after the last few chapters, it’s needed. However, James is still dark and things are happening!!! Enjoy!

It’s mid-day when James leaves his home and begins to walk down the road and into the Viking village. He’d spent the morning trying to figure out how to unjumble the mess he made a week ago when he set the plan for Wanda’s death in motion to no avail. How did things get so complicated and what the hell was he going to do to fix his mistake? Gods, he never planned for this and the fact that he’d not is what was frustrating him more.

James waved to the people as he walked by, all of them smiling at their leader. Their failure as a leader, he thought in his head. He can’t believe his plan backfired on him. Well, it didn’t exactly go badly. Wanda was dead and that was supposed to be the result, but Steven was the one that was to take her life, not the Princess, and because of that he’d have to figure out a new way to get his plan to carry on.

Natasha is standing on the steps of her home, waiting for him as he gets closer. He can see her staring at him, most likely analyzing him, knowing his mood has been soured as of late, no signs of turning around.

“What’s with the long face?” She asks when he stands in front of her.

“Do you really need to ask?”

She chuckles and shakes her head, turning around and opens the door to her house. James follows and steps inside, the room warm and inviting from the fireplace. Natasha shuts the door and makes her way to the table and sits down, the brunette following suit and joining her.

“Why don’t you tell me what’s really bothering you.”

“Really? As if you don’t know!” He replies and Natasha rolls her eyes.

The redhead crosses her arms to her chest and shrugs. “I fail to see what the problem is. You got what you wanted, and Wanda is dead. Perhaps you'd be happier about this instead of sulking about.”

James sighs and sits silently for a moment, trying to will himself to calm down, feeling the frustration growing with each passing moment. “She wasn’t supposed to kill Wanda… It was supposed to be Steven.”

“So??!!” Natasha scrunches her face, not understanding why the who is important. “You got what you wanted. You no longer have to deal with woman you wanted nothing to do with, and her men are now loyal to you. What more could you ask for?”

James groaned, putting his head in his hands and stared at the table. Natasha was right. The plan to end Wanda’s life had worked. Once her men learned she tried to kill the Princess while she was with child, they immediately pledged their loyalty to the leader of the Viking clan, not wanting Wanda’s actions to reflect badly upon them. It was a solid victory for James.

The downside? Well the villagers immediately fell in love with the Princess. That wasn’t supposed to happen. When they heard it was self-defense, it touched their hearts and suddenly she had gained their love and trust. James was baffled by this. How could they love her when her family is the reason they lost everything? To him, it just didn’t make any sense.

James looks up and runs his fingers through his long brown locks and lets out a frustrated sigh. “It was supposed to be like this.”

“And why not?!” Natasha is quick to fire back. “So, what if it was her?! Would you rather not know she’s capable of murder?!”

He opens his mouth to speak but quickly stops before a sound can escape. Thinking back, he knows the Princess had made an attempt on his life not so long ago, but he wasn’t sure if she actually would’ve followed through. The force of the blow he’d stopped told him she might’ve killed him if he hadn’t stopped her, so maybe, somewhere deep down he knew what she was capable of when he set this plan in motion.

However, something about Wanda’s death felt different… like the Princess was playing at her own game. Was it possible she was beginning to figure out her place in his plot and if she was, how could he throw her off his scent? James couldn’t risk her putting everything into place just yet. It was too early in his plan and he’d already come too far to lose control and have everything come crashing down. There was way too much at stake now and James would have to come up with a new strategy if he was ever to succeed.

“She can’t be trusted,” James says with a sigh.

Natasha huffs. “Of course, she can’t. I think you’ve underestimated your Princess. So, what do you plan to do about that?” She sits back in her chair with a smirk.

That was a good question. He did underestimate his bride to be and that’s probably the one thing that’s got him the most bothered. If she could easily kill Wanda, then she’d have no qualms about slitting his throat in the middle of the night. He’d have to change things up if he wanted his plan to continue forward and that meant he’d have to change his tactics with the Princess.

“I’ll need to make her like me,” James tells Natasha, “she’ll have to learn to like me, maybe even love me.”

Natasha erupts in a fit of laughter, making James cringe and shift uncomfortably in his chair. “Oh… my… god!” She choked in between laughs. “Good luck with that!” She barks out and continues to laugh.

James knows it’s far-fetched after the treatment he’s given her but he’s pretty sure this is his only shot at redemption. “I think I have a new plan.”

The redhead stops laughing and quirks up her eyebrow, setting her elbows on the table and leaning in closer to James. “I’m listening.”

“The people have fallen in love with the Princess and want to see more of her. What if I give them what they want?” James grinned and sat back in his chair, waiting for Natasha to chime in.

“Hmmm…,” the woman replied, her face looking like she was in deep thought. “Okay, so you do that… allow the Princess more freedom. Then what? How’re you gonna make her fall in love with you?”

James twists his face and swallows hard, the words he’s about to say painful to think about much less vocalize. “I’m gonna give her my undying devotion and attention.”

Natasha snorts and rolls her eyes at him. “Yeah, I’m sure she’s gonna buy that. Excuse me if I don’t give you my blessing because if that’s seriously your plan, I see failure in your future.”

James lets out an exasperated sigh and lowers his head to the table, banging in into the wood for dramatic effect. “Help me, Natasha!! I’m desperate.” He looked up and found her staring at him, eyes fixated on him like she was digging deep into his soul.

“Maybe you’re onto something.” She clicks her tongue, her lips curving up into a smile. “Yes… we can work with this.”

The Viking perks up, raising his head and giving the redhead his full attention. “Go on.”

“You’ll have to change your tactics. No more cruel and mean James. It’s time to transform yourself into the Prince you’ll soon be, which means you’ll have to pretend to be utterly devoted to her and love her unconditionally. It’s time to place yourself in the game.”

James nods enthusiastically. “This I can do, but what else? There’s got to be more to this plan than me faking the perfect life.”

“Oh, there is...,” Natasha reassures him, “...you’re also gonna give her your best friend, Steven, as her protector and confidant. Insert him more into her everyday life. Let her learn to trust him, form a bond. One that you certainly won’t be able to break.”

“But why?!” James questions, not able to contemplate why Steven would be a key player in this new plan. “If I’m pretending to love and cherish the Princess, why would I want him involved? Wouldn’t that just screw with the entire dynamic?!”

Natasha smirks and raises her eyebrows. It takes James a moment but then he blinks rapidly and an “ahhh” comes from his mouth, like he finally figured it out.

“Now I think you understand. While the village sees you being the honorable, doting, loving, husband and father, the Princess will never forgive you for what you’ve done to her. By inserting Steven, there’s a very strong chance that through their time together and the bond they’ve created, they’ll fall in love with each other. Love equals betrayal and once that happens…”

James stands, grinning from ear to ear. “I can rightfully kill them both!”

“As the King to her lands, you can kill them both for betraying their King and Kingdom. No one would stand in your way.”

He begins to pace the room, his smile deepening with each turn, but then he stops and quickly sits back down in the chair across from his friend. “This is a plan that will take time. It’s not going to happen overnight.”

“You’ve got nothing but time. Besides, the more love you show her and the more kids the two of you produce, the more vile her act of betrayal becomes. You’ll have everyone sympathetic to your cause.”

James bites at his lip and nods, convinced this was the way to turn everything around and get exactly what he wanted. “She was always meant to die.”

“And this way, everyone will want her head and you will be the one to serve it on a platter.”

This new plan would work. He would pretend to love and honor the Princess and when the time came, he’d crush her and make her pay for all the vile things her and her father had done to them and he’d finally have the life he was once promised. All he had to do was play the waiting game, and it starts by pushing the Princess and his best friend together.

“Revenge and victory will be mine.”

Viking Tags:

@ellallheart @sebastianstansqueen @kaithezaftig

Forever Tags:

@jamesbarnesappreciationclub @kruscht @palaiasaurus64 @breezy1415 @sarahp879 @supernaturaldean67 @averyrogers83 @scarlettsoldier @lovely-geek @titty-teetee @geeksareunique @peaceinourtime82 @leosandbuckysgirl @the-goddess-of-mischief @mychemicalimagines @awkwardfangirl2014 @collette04 @notyourtypicalrose @onebatch--twobatch @miraclesoflove @kcd15 @xxloki81xx @death-unbecomes-you @thatfanficstuff @hotoffthepressfics @chuuulip @unlikelygalaxygiver @lancetuckershairgel @babypink224221 @mybabe-buckybarnes @shield-agent78 @the-real-kellymonster @caplanreads

#viking!bucky #viking!james barnes #dark!viking bucky #dark james barnes #james barnes #bucky barnes #james bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #james barnes x reader #james buchanan barnes #viking au #marvel au #dark fic #natasha romanoff

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emy-loves-you · 4 years

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Sanders Sides AU-gust Day 5: Post-Apocalypse

Remus gets injured while running away from a hoard. Janus tends to his wounds, and they make a new friend

Janus POV, Dukeceit, parental Moxiety and slight parental Anxceit

Day 4 | Masterlist | Day 6

“What on earth were you thinking!?!”

Remus smiled, completely ignoring the large gash in his arm. “They were after me! And I had to get back to the love of my life!” He waggled his eyebrows, and Janus barely resisted the urge to smack him.

“Why didn’t you go around the barbed wire fence? You knew where the entrance was!”

“Because it was quicker to go over the fence, duh. And so much more fun. I felt like I was in an action-horror movie!” He pumped his arms into the air, completely ignoring his injury.

Janus sighed, moving to grab the first-aid kit. “And why didn’t you wear your jacket? You know how difficult it is for zombies to bite through that thing. And you probably wouldn’t need stitches right now if you had worn it.”

Remus pouted. “Because you were sleeping with it! And if I’d woken you up you would’ve convinced me to stay.”

“Yeah, because there definitely weren’t over 300 zombies in the area!”

“You know I would do it again in a heartbeat!” Remus’ smile was completely gone (was it ever truly there in the first place?) and Janus sighed as he directed Remus to sit on the nearest tree stump. They stood in silence for several minutes as Janus tended to Remus’ injury. For the first half of the procedure, there were no sounds beyond Remus’ quiet hissing when Janus tugged too harshly on a stitch.

After most of the wound was closed, Janus spoke up. “You know he’s probably dead.” He kept his eyes trained on the stitches. He didn’t need to look up to know what expressions lied on Remus’ face. They’ve had this conversation dozens of times, after all.

Remus sighed. “I know. But if there’s even the smallest chance that Ro’s alive, I’m gonna find him.” Janus offered no sympathy. He knew that would only fuel the fire. “I can’t lose him, Jan. Not again.”

Janus remained silent as he tended to Remus’ wound. As he finished stitching and moved on the bandaging, Janus let his mind wander. It’s been almost 3 years since the outbreak started. Janus and Remus were just friends at the time. Remus and Roman (Remus’ twin brother) had gotten into an argument right before Roman moved across the country. After the outbreak started, Remus had made it his goal to find Roman. A difficult goal, especially since the zombies had multiplied overnight, making it impossible to travel on road or through cities. But Remus never gave up. So here they were, over 2,000 miles away from home, searching for any signs of life while barely surviving themselves.

Once Janus had Remus completely patched up, they packed up to leave. The scent of Remus’ blood would eventually attract zombies. It would be best to travel as far as possible before setting up camp for the night.

They walked for around 6 hours, talking about whatever topic came to mind. Well, it was more of Remus bringing up a random topic and Janus bringing up different counterarguments. They eventually made camp down by a stream in the middle of the woods. The sun was close to setting as Janus collected wood to start a fire. Remus moved deeper into the forest, likely searching for deer or rabbits. Janus quickly set up the fire, dragging a fallen tree nearby to use as a bench. Just as Janus was starting to wonder what was taking Remus so long, he heard a rustle from behind him. “Finally decide to show up, Remus? Did some sort of poisonous or toxic creature distract you?” He turned around to see someone that was decidedly not Remus.

Crouching in the thick foliage was a child, no older than 6. He had long brown hair and oversized black hoodie. His hair had multiple braids running through it, but it had obviously been several days since they were put in, judging from the multiple twigs and knots that Janus could see. Large brown eyes fearfully stared into Janus’ soul.

Janus slowly moved to sit on the log behind him. It would be better if the child believed he wouldn’t run up and grab him. “Hello, little one.” Janus’ voice was much softer now, and he noticed how the child appeared nervous but didn’t flinch. “My name is Janus. What’s yours?” The child didn’t answer, instead looking over at the decently-sized fire. “Would you like to join me? My partner should be here soon, and he’ll have food for us to cook and eat.” The child glanced between Janus and the fire, seemingly weighing his options. “If it makes you more comfortable, I promise I won’t get off of this log unless absolutely necessary. You needn’t be afraid. Neither my partner nor I would ever harm a child.”

The child weighed his options for a few more moments before stepping forwards. He slowly approached the fire, not taking his eyes off of Janus. Once he was in grabbing range and Janus hadn’t reached out for him, the child’s entire body seemed to relax. Janus watched as the child winced and pulled a stick out of his hair. “Would you like some assistance with that?” The child looked up at Janus, his shoulders tense again. “I could clean and rebraid your hair, if you want me to.” The child stared at him for a few moments before slowly approaching. After a few more minutes of coaxing, the child was soon sitting in Janus’ lap, watching the fire as Janus fixed his hair.

For once, Janus was grateful that the virus killed off kids rather than infecting them. He could bash in the face of a 30-year-old zombie any day (he usually did so daily). But if he had seen this child running after him, bloody and rotting? Janus didn’t know what he would do.

The child winced as Janus pulled out a stubborn stick. “My apologies.” Janus murmured softly. “I’m afraid it’s been many years since I last dealt with long hair.” The child seemed to relax at Janus’ tone, so Janus kept talking. “I’m surprised that you managed to find this campsite, much less approach us. You must be very brave, child.” The child muttered something under his breath. “What did you say?”

“m not brave, ‘m just Virgil.”

Janus smiled softly as he worked on braiding Virgil’s hair. “Well, Virgil. I feel like you’re not seeing what I’m seeing. I see a strong child who faced his fears and did what he had to do to survive. What do you see?”

Virgil started shaking, and it took Janus a moment to realize that he was crying. “They said I couldn’t do anythin’ ‘cause ‘m small.” Janus started to rub the child’s back as he shook more. “I thought I could do it on my own but I can’t! I miss Uncle Lo and his facts. I miss Uncle Ro and his songs. I miss my Papa!”

The child was sobbing by this point. Janus turned Virgil around so he could bury his face in Janus’ chest. Janus rubbed small circles into Virgil’s back as he cried. “There there.” He whispered. “It’s alright. We’ll find your Papa.” Janus did not like to make such claims. He never did so with Remus with his quest to find Roman, so why should he do so with Virgil?

Maybe it was because of the way Virgil relaxed after he’d said it. Maybe it was because Virgil was just a child, and will hopefully forget the promise. Maybe it was because Janus didn’t want this kid to grow up an orphan. But it didn’t matter, because he’d already said it.

Once the kid stopped crying, turned back around so that he continued facing the fire. Janus smiled as Virgil leaned back so that he was laying against Janus’ chest. They stayed like that for several minutes before they heard more rustling from the other side of the fire. Virgil seemed to see the person’s face before Janus did. Instead of burying himself into Janus, like he’d expected, Virgil instead jumped out of Janus’ lap. He quickly ran around the fire, shouting in relief. “Ro! Ro! R- oh.”

Janus kept his eyes on Remus, who was staring at the child with a carefully blank expression. Before he could potentially frighten the child, Janus spoke up. “Virgil, I would like you to meet Remus, my boyfriend. Remus, this is Virgil. I was hoping we could watch over him until he is reunited with his father.”

Remus’ face went through a myriad of emotions before sticking with happy. For once, Janus was grateful for Remus’ obsession with theatre. It made him an amazing actor, after all. “Of course! There’s always room for one more!” He reached down to poke Virgil’s belly, and Janus was surprised to hear the child giggle. Remus stood back up and offered Janus the deer carcass he’d hunted earlier. “Sorry it took so long. I spotted two giant spiders mating in the woods. The female bit off the male’s head!”

Virgil mumbled something as he made his way back to Janus. “What was that, Virgil?”

“...spiders are cool.”

Remus’ smile became less forced. “I’ll take you to see them tomorrow.”

They sat in relative silence as Janus worked to prepare the deer meat. Remus had already drained it, thankfully, so Janus mainly needed to skin it. Janus watched out of the corner of his eye as Virgil attempted to scoot closer to him. “Would you like something, Virgil?”

Virgil seemed surprised that Janus had called him out. “Nothing!”

Janus internally sighed. It would take a while for Virgil to fully come out of his metaphorical shell. “Do you know how to skin a deer, Virgil?” The child shook his head. “Would you like to learn how?”

Virgil suddenly found his shoes extremely interesting. “I’m not allowed to touch knives.”

“I didn’t ask that.” Virgil’s head shot up. “I asked if you wanted to learn how to skin a deer.” Virgil nodded frantically, and Janus barely stopped himself from smirking. “Alright, come closer and I’ll show you how.”

Virgil sat in Janus’ lap as he carefully removed the deer’s skin. After a few minutes of explanation and demonstration, he handed Virgil the knife. He kept his hands on Virgil’s the entire time, and there were luckily no injuries from the experience. They lost a little bit of meat from where Virgil cut too deep, but it wasn’t too bad for his first time with a knife. While Janus cooked the meat, Remus told Virgil whatever stories popped into his mind. Janus was glad that Remus kept the stories PG, and was surprised that Virgil preferred some of Remus’ darker tales.

After a few more hours of eating and storytelling, Virgil let out a yawn. Janus smiled. “Are you tired?” Virgil nodded, his eyes already starting to close. “Then we’ll wake you in the morning. Sleep tight, Virgil.”

Once the two of them were sure that Virgil was asleep, Remus started whispering. “Okay, what the fuck is going on!?”

Janus sighed, making sure to keep his voice down. “From what I’ve gathered, Virgil and his father travel with your brother and a third adult that goes by ‘Lo.’ A few days ago, one of them told Virgil that he couldn’t help them because he’s too young. Wanting to prove them wrong, he ran away and found our fire.”

Remus was in deep concentration. “So Roman IS alive.”

Janus nodded. “Possibly. If he is, than he is most likely nearby, searching for Virgil.”

Remus nodded before looking over at Virgil. “I don’t know why they wouldn’t let him help.”

Janus sighed. “He is rather young, Remus.”

Remus waved him off. “I know, I know. And before all of this shit happened, I would’ve agreed. He’s way too young to handle knives or fire. But we’re not living anymore. We’re surviving. And this kid needs to learn how to survive in case he’s on his own again.”

“And I perfectly agree.” They sat there for another hour as the fire started to dwindle. Remus offered to take first shift, so Janus kissed him goodnight before laying down next to Virgil. And if Janus’ heart melted a bit when Virgil grabbed the front of Janus’ shirt in his sleep?

Well, no one had to know about that, did they?

#sanders sides #AU_gust_2020 #Alternate universe post-apocalypse #dukeceit #Janus Sanders #remus sanders #virgil sanders #skinning animals #stitches #talk of spiders

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nishithunder · 4 years

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Fall (Kuroo x Reader)

He never meant to fall, and she never intended to catch him. - TW: mental health struggles, cursing - Part 2: It’ll be okay, I’m here for you - Masterlist

‘I don’t want to get up yet…’ Y/N thought to herself as she opened her eyes, locking on the ceiling fan as it spun around in front of her. Her alarm had been going off for the past five minutes, yelling angrily at her that she needed to go take a shower and actually, ya know, get the fuck up. But it was so hard...doing everything was getting so hard. A heavy sigh escaped her mouth, something that happened often because it was easy. It didn’t take effort to sigh, it might even be considered a staple of her vocabulary at this point. Toes hit the carpet, the first step to being a ‘functioning member of society’ or whatever the fuck. The alarm continued to blare from her phone, and she shut it off quickly, throwing the phone on to her bed. It was Saturday, why was she up before 2pm on a SATURDAY?

Loud knocking came from the front door, pulling Y/N from the intrusive thoughts that were beginning to spread through her brain. The knocking continued, pounding against what seemed to be her forehead and she groaned. Again, it was too early for this.

“I’m coming!” She called, shuffling from her room and towards the front door, rubbing the sleep from her eyes and a yawn shoving its way out of her mouth. The knocking stopped, whoever was on the other side seeming content with her voice calling out to them. She opened the door, her eyes meeting with Kuroo on the other side who was smiling at her widely.

“Did you forget that today was the first day of training camp or did you think I was just going to go without you after you reminded me to wait for you last night?” He asked, a smirk on his lips. Her eyes widened and she pressed the palm of her hand against her forehead, groaning.

“I forgot to be honest with you. Come in, I need to take a shower and get dressed and then we can leave.” Y/N told him, stepping to the side to let him into the house. Now it was his turn to be shocked. She was inviting him into her house now? After only having one actual conversation with her? Either way, Kuroo walked inside, slipping his shoes off at the door and watching her scurry off in the other direction, closing the door behind himself.

The house was what he expected it to be. Clean, orderly, but eerily dark inside. Not that SHE was eerily dark inside, but she didn’t exactly seem like the type to like that much light. It was quiet other than the sound of the shower being turned on, and he sat on the couch, assuming that her father was away on business again and she was here alone. He pulled his phone out again, sending a quick text to Kenma to let him know that they would be there as soon as possible, that Y/N had just woken up and was taking a shower before they left. He set his phone down on his lap, looking around the living room. There wasn’t much in there as far as decor and pictures went, nothing that really stood out at least, until his eyes locked on a single photo that was sitting next to the television in front of him. In the photo there were two adults and a small child, assumingly it was her family. The man looked to be in his mid 30’s, not very old, whereas the woman did look younger, like she may have been 5-6 years younger than the man was. The small girl, Y/N, looked like she was only 7 at the time of the photo, and he realized she never did tell him how long her mother had been gone. Since she just started going to Nekoma recently, it was safe to say that since they moved due to her mother's death and her father's new job, that her passing was also just as recent.

“Are you okay?” Y/N’s voice rang out through the room, catching Kuroo off guard and causing him to jump, eyes shooting over to her. He nodded quickly, standing up and rubbing the back of his neck, embarrassed that she had caught him mid zone out. Her hair was wet, hanging around her face as she rubbed a towel over it. She was wearing a pair of shorts and a plain red t-shirt, nothing special, but for some reason it took his breath away.

“Yeah, everythings fine, are you ready to go?” He asked her, walking towards the door to get his shoes. She nodded, following him and grabbing a set of keys off the hook and an overnight bag near the door. Kuroo quickly realized that when he had shown up, he had set his own bag near the door outside, and it was still just sitting out there on the concrete.

“Be careful, this complex isn’t the best.” Y/N informed him, closing the door as they walked out and locking it behind them. Kuroo’s ears heated up slightly and he chuckled, giving her a small smile.

“I wasn’t expecting you to invite me in.” He admitted, reaching down and grabbing his jacket off his bag and handing it to her.

“Here, just in case you get cold or something,” He told her, trying to sound as smooth as possible. Y/N looked at the jacket that was being held to her for a moment, before grabbing it and setting her bag down, slipping it over her arms and up her shoulders. It was much too big on her, his volleyball jacket obviously hanging off her loosely, but it was definitely comfortable. She grabbed her bag again, not noticing that Kuroo was now fully blushing at the sight of her in the jacket that he wore almost every day since he received it.

“Come on, we’re already late thanks to me.” Y/N said to him, shoving her keys into the pocket of the jacket and beginning to walk down the sidewalk, Kuroo catching up to her quickly.

~Time skip to at training camp~

“Could you taken any longer?” Yaku asked as Kuroo opened the doors to the practice gym, letting Y/N walk in ahead of him. Kuroo looked over at him, glaring a bit in return, Yaku now shrinking down slightly and turning back towards Lev who he had been talking to previously. Y/N looked around the gym, more than one team occupying the space around them, her chest tightening with every new face she saw. Kuroo could tell she was getting uncomfortable and he placed a hand on the small of her back, smiling down at her.

“It’ll be okay, I’m here for you. Nobody will hurt you while I’m around. I won’t let anything happen.” He assured her, feeling as she slowly relaxed against his hand and gave him a small nod. Kenma walked over to the two, looking down at his phone as he walked, only looking up once he was directly in front of them.

“Hinata just texted me that they were pulling up, they should be here in a few minutes so that we can start practicing.” Kenma informed them, Y/N’s face instantly brightening at the sound of Hinata’s name. This was why she was ready to come, this was the reason she was EXCITED to be here. She would finally get to see her friends again after months of not seeing them and barely hearing anything from. That was all she wanted, she missed her friends more than anything.

“Until then, we can do some sets just to get warmed up. I need it.” Kuroo told Kenma, beginning to stretch. He looked over at Y/N, then pointed over to some chairs so that she could sit down. Though he didn’t say a word to her, Y/N knew what he meant, and nodded to him again, smiling a little before walking over to the chairs and sitting down, pulling Kuroo’s jacket around her a little tighter. She liked it, more than she thought she would. It made her feel protected, since it was so much bigger than she was, and she felt like she could hide within it. It also smelled strongly like Kuroo, cologne and maple, somthing that she didn’t exactly expect but comforted her in a way.

Y/N felt like Kuroo was a magnet, or had some type of magnetic force, because she couldn’t seem to take her eyes off of him. His movements were so fluid, yet precise every time a volleyball came his way. It was impressive, and almost mesmerizing to watch. She still wasn’t sure what his motive was, being so nice to her and seemingly always finding his way to her. What exactly did he want? Because Y/N was afraid that she wouldn’t be able to give whatever it was to him. She couldn’t help but feel like anyone trying to befriend her had some sort of ulterior motive, though that wasn’t the case with Kuroo. He genuinely just cared about her, but she wasn’t aware of how much or why.

“THE SHOW HAS ARRIVED!” A voice boomed through the gym, Y/N’s head instantly snapping to the doorway to the owner of the loud voice. Tanaka stood, arms outreached, having just barged his way into the gym like he OWNED that bitch, and Y/N’s breath caught in her throat. Each one of the members of Kurosuno’s team walked into the gym after Tanaka’s grand entrance, all seemingly as hyped up as he was despite the long bus ride they had just taken in order to get there. They hadn’t noticed her yet, and she didn’t know whether or not she should run over to them and tackle them with hugs, or stay exactly where she was at. What if they didn’t want to see her? They hadn’t made any sort of effort to talk to her, though she had texted them numerous times to stay in contact. Y/N was scared of the abandonment, and the rejection that might come from her going over to them as if she had never left in the first place. Her eyes scanned over each of them. Daichi and Suga stood behind everyone, pointing towards a different side of the court. Hinata and Kageyama were already starting with the arguments, causing Y/N to giggle, remembering all the fights and arguments between the two when she was still with them, and how much she missed them. Yamaguchi and Tsukishima were setting down their things, talking amongst each other as usual. And then there was Tanaka and Nishinoya, always in their own world, but walking towards her. No. They weren’t walking, they were running towards her.

“Y/NNNNNN!!” They screamed in unison, knocking the chairs down around her as they both tackled her in a hug. Her breath was once again caught in her throat, as if she suddenly forgot how to breathe. “WE MISSED YOU!” They continued, tears now streaming down Y/N’s face as she wrapped her arms around the two of them. She missed them, GOD, she missed them so much. Y/N pushed her face into Noya’s shoulder, taking in the all too familiar scent of his cologne from all the times he had been the one to console her when she was having one of her panic attacks. She turned, now pushing herself into Tanaka’s shoulder, tears continuing to stream down her face as she held them tighter.

“You two don’t understand how much I missed you. I thought you both hated me.” Y/N whispered, trying to keep herself from ugly crying in front of the two boys. Noya looked at her, concern covering his face as he pushed her hair back behind her ear.

“Why would you ever think that, Y/N? I’m sorry I didn’t always text you back, we’ve been cramming school work so that we could come here.” Noya explained, rubbing her back gently. Tanaka nodded, pointing his thumb back at the others.

“Yeah, even Hinata and Kageyama studied harder for this. We were all really trying to get the extra practice in, we had been letting our grades slip for a while,” Tanaka told her sheepishly, expecting the scolding look that she normally would have given him before realizing that he was standing in front of Y/N, but how? “Wait, why are you here?” he asked in confusion, then his eyes landed on the jacket that she had wrapped around herself.

“I’m Nekoma’s team manager now. Yaku convinced me.” Y/N told him, rubbing the back of her neck and giving him a shy smile. Tanaka grinned, ruffling her hair playfully.

“We made you love the sport that much, huh, Lil Bit?” He asked her, the old nickname sounding like music to her ears coming from his mouth. She nodded her head, shoulder checking him gently in a teasing way. Kuroo watched the three, a smile on his face as he saw how happy Y/N looked, something they hadn’t seen since she started coming to Nekoma. Something about the moment seemed bitter sweet, despite the fact that this might have been what Y/N needed in order to finally come out of her shell. He just wished he could have been the one to do that. As Kurosuno’s team noticed what the commotion was all about, they began to walk over, excited faces as well.

“Isn’t that Kuroo’s jacket?” Tsukki questioned as they approached, standing behind Y/N and straightening out the writing across her back so that he could read it better. A pale blush spread over her cheeks as he looked, realizing that if Tanaka and Noya didn’t know she was her captain, neither did they, which meant they didn’t realize that she also knew Kuroo.

“Yeah, he walked with me to the camp this morning and didn’t want me getting cold. He lives down the street from me, he walks me to school every morning too, and home from practice after so that I’m not walking alone in the dark. He’s really nice to me.” She explained, seeming to ramble without realizing it. Noya smiled, placing a hand on top of her head.

“I’m glad someone is taking care of you, at least.” He said, quieter than normal, as if he only wanted her to hear it. She was always closest with Noya, the two of them being polar opposites so it was a perfect match. Tanaka too, but he was more of a big brother to her, and would always baby her. “I know you’re not our manager anymore, but I hope you’ll still cheer for us.” He added, his eyes sparkling when they met with hers. A large smile was now on Y/N’s face as she nodded eagerly.

“I’ll always cheer for you, no matter who you’re playing against or what you’re doing. You guys will always be my team.” She confirmed, barely out of earshot now from Kuroo who was walking towards the group to say hello. He stopped when he heard her words, his heart clenching tightly in his chest. That stung.

Tag list~ @yafriendlyfangirl @sokka-simp-420 @neodnyl

#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x y/n #haikyuu #kuroo x reader #kuroo tetsurō #nishithunder masterlist

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floatingpetals · 5 years

Text

Boys in Blue || Pt. 10

Pairings: cop!Stucky x F!Reader

Warnings: angst, PTSD/ Panic attacks, sad buckys sad

Word Count: 3000+

Summary: (Cop AU) There was just one crappy thing after enough that happened to her. It possibly couldn’t get any worse, or so she thought until she saw the dreaded flashes of red and blue behind her. Could things get any worse?

A/N: Posting this suppperr late at night, but I finally got this chapter how I wanted it! Huzzah! I know it’s been a hot minute since I’ve updated this, so to all you who are sticking around to see how this goes THANK YOU!!! I hope you all enjoy this part, let me know what you think! Enjoyy!

The gifs are not mine, credit to the owner.

Part Nine | Part Ten | Part Eleven | Series Masterlist

“Hey, Sarge!”

Bucky’s paused mid-type and glanced over his shoulder. He let out a sigh and nodded to the Sam before returning back to the report in front of him. The chair next to his desk scratched against the floor, causing Bucky to flinch at the harsh sound. Sam plopped himself in the vacant seat and leaned back to watch Bucky type away.

“Hey, Sam.” He mumbled. There was a snort in reply that was less than amused with Bucky’s half-assed greet.

“Oh come on. That’s all I get when you’ve been gone for six weeks?” Sam teased. Leaning his elbow against the desk, Sam rolled his eyes. “Thought we were better friends than that.”

Bucky let out a heavy sigh, willing some of the tension to slip from his shoulders. It wasn’t that he was irritated with Sam per se. His morning was off to a rough start after learning he wasn’t going to be allowed back on patrol anytime soon if he wasn’t willing to agree to the terms. Naturally, Bucky refused. Which meant none other than desk duty until he could suck it up. Steve already gave him an ear full, but Bucky wasn’t having it.

“Sorry, Sam.” He said with a heavy exhale. “Just not in the mood today.”

“When are you not?” Sam snorted. When he didn’t get a return quip, his face dropped the smirk and smoothed over with a serious expression. He could sense the shift in Bucky’s moods, catching on that this wasn’t the time. “Hey man, I know you and I joke around, but I just want you to know if you ever need to talk with anyone I’m here. I’ve never been shot before, but I know can’t be easy to go through that.”

Bucky didn’t respond right away, his jaw tensing at the thought. However, he slowly started to nod, feeling a tad lighter knowing Sam cared a little. It didn’t mean he was going to take him up on the offer, but it was a nice sentiment. It appeared enough to appease Sam; he clapped a hand on Bucky’s shoulder stopping short with Bucky’s wince.

“Still sore, huh?” He asked. Bucky grumbled and nodded, rolling his shoulder to alleviate the tension. “Welp. Don’t expect special treatment. You already got that with your girl back home.”

Now it was Bucky’s turn to snort, shaking his head at Sam as he stood. Sam started to walk away, but not with it out turning around to walk backward and point a finger directly at Bucky. Amused, Bucky watched as he almost tripped over an open box by Natasha’s desk in the process. She shot him a disgruntled look and grabbed it out of the way before he could crush the files.

“I’m serious. I’m not gonna let you get all soft because of this.”

“Alright Sam,” Bucky laughed, waving his annoying but thoughtful coworker away. Turning back to his desk, Bucky’s eyes landed on the folder with the conditions to his return. His eyes turned dark.

Snatching the folder off the desk, he shoved them into a drawn and all but slammed it shut. The simmer of irritation grew again, replaying the conversation he had with Captain Fury and then Steve right after. It just wasn’t fair. He didn’t need to have the therapy as they wanted. Why did he need to do that?

A throat cleared behind him. He tensed, feeling daggers being thrown his way. Slowly, he turned his head to look over his shoulder. Natasha stared at him with a brow raised, her lips pulled down into a disproving frown. Sheepishly, he waved over his shoulder and spun around to his desk with blazing cheeks. Alright, so mental note to keep his irritation in check. Sucking in a deep breath, Bucky started back with his reports, biting back a groan.

“So I tried to convince him it’s what he needed and that if he wanted to get back on patrol, he just needed to get it done,” Steve stated hotly, waving his beer glass around as he paced in front of the television and explained the day he had to Y/N. She sat on the couch, her legs curled up under and watched him sadly pace back and forth.

Today was the first day for Bucky to return, Steve had already gone back a week earlier after the doctor gave Bucky the all-clear. He wasn’t needed to stay around and help, so his Captain called him back in. He himself had already done the mandatory therapy session and done his tests. Just today he was given the all-clear to go back on patrol, however, he hated leaving Bucky behind.

“He just got all weird and snapped at me. He seems to think he doesn’t need and will eventually be let back on patrol, despite Fury telling him that isn’t gonna happen.” Steve sighed. Y/N patted the seat beside her, sensing his slow descent into pointing fingers at himself. Sinking into the spot beside her, Steve let out a heavy sigh and leaned against her shoulder. She wrapped her arm around him and began scratch behind his ears.

“It’s his first day back,” Y/N said quietly. “Let’s let him get settled first, and when he realizes how much desk duty sucks, he’ll do what Fury wants.”

Steve made a face, shaking his head.

“It’s not just that.” He began. “Bucky needs to go to therapy. Not just to get cleared, but the whole thing just really messed with him. I don’t think he realizes just how bad, but I see him just be so tense about every little noise. I’m worried about him.”

Y/N sighed sadly, nodding along with his answer. She had seen it too. Bucky would flinch at loud noises and his eyes would dart around wide with fear. It would only be a flash, but it was long enough for her and Steve to spot it.

“You’re right.” She agreed. “But when has he ever listened to you first time around?”

Steve scoffed and shook his head. He glared at the wall and took a long gulp from his beer.

“It used to be the other way around.” He muttered, the fond memory of their college coming back to him. Usually, it was him that ignored Bucky. Had been since he could remember. It seemed like a switch flipped overnight and suddenly Bucky was the one being unreasonable. “I just don’t understand.”

“I know,” Y/N sighed. “It’s even more frustrating when the man won’t walk with us about it. But we can only push so much.”

Steve laid his head against hers, eyes falling shut to her still scratching the skin behind his ear. He hummed in agreement, despite his instincts telling him this was wrong. Bucky needed help, but Y/N was right. They couldn’t push him into doing something he didn’t want. Just because they saw the issues, didn’t mean Bucky was willing or even remotely ready to admit he needed the help himself. For now, Steve decided to keep a close enough eye on Bucky as he could. Only time would tell how well that would go.

Clock in, sit down, sift through the countless amounts of paperwork, fill them out, hit submit, and do it all over again until 6. Three weeks he’s been doing this, and all three weeks had been pure torture. Bucky had thought if he kept up with his refusal to step foot in the therapist’s office, Fury would give in and let him back on active duty. So far, the old stubborn mad hadn’t budged once. But Bucky was just a stubborn as him.

“Yeah, Steve I can run to the store.” Bucky was walking back to his car after another groundbreaking day stuck in his desk. His phone was cradled against his ear as he fumbled for his keys in his pocket. Steve was out on his route and called him up knowing Bucky was off. The fridge was almost empty, and Steve was getting sick of take out.

“I’ll send you a list of things I need,” Steve said absently on the other end. “And don’t get that weird bread again. Just get the 9 grain.”

“Fine. I’ll text when I’m on my way back.” Bucky hummed and buckled in, turning on the engine. “Talk to you later.”

Steve said goodbye before Bucky hung up and tucked his phone in his pocket. He sat there for a moment just staring at his dash, his heart heavy and his thoughts dark. It seemed the past few weeks that’s what his whole world seemed like. True, he had two people who loved him and cared about him, but something just felt off. He was getting bored, sick of his day to day. That had to be all, he thought. It wasn’t anything more than boredom.

Sucking in a shuddering breath, Bucky threw the car in reverse and backed out. Opting to ignore the sadness, he went on about the rest of his day and headed to the store. It had been a while since he had gone someplace other than his house or work, especially alone. Y/N had been fairly busy with her clients the past few weeks and hadn’t really had nights that allowed them to take her out on a dinner. Steve would usually do the grocery shopping on his way home from work, so Bucky never really needed to leave the apartment. It still didn’t make this any less than unusual. he was a grown adult who's done this countless time before. Yet even as he wandered the aisles and filled the cart there was still something off about him and he was getting really sick of it.

A sharp cry behind him made him flinch and shot a startled look over his shoulder. A baby was fussing in it’s seat, grabbing out to it’s mom who was trying to soothe the child while she grabbed things from the shelf. Bucky exhaled loudly, ignoring the thumping in his ears. He pushed his cart out of the aisle and went to the meat section, willing his body to relax. This was ridiculous, he chastised himself. He wasn’t in danger here.

As he bent over to look over the steak options there was another clatter, a series of bangs that ricochet off the high ceilings. It made Bucky jump, the hair on the back of his neck standing on end while he spun around. Down a ways at the top of an aisle, a lady had hit a shelf with her cart that sent several of the metal cans flying against linoleum and rolling noisily away. She cursed loudly and bent to pick them up.

Bucky shakily turned back to the meat, grabbing a package before he threw it in the cart. His hands trembled as he pushed the cart towards the checkout, confused and slightly frustrated. What was going on with him today? Things like this had never bothered him before. It was just a baby and a few cans hitting the ground. Why was his mind making him react like this? Why now?

A lump started to grow in his throat, the shrill beep of the scans as the cashier did her job caused a tick with each item. The frustration grew, but so did the anxiety. He didn’t even notice when the cashier was done until she called out louder to him over the drone in his ears.

“Sir?” She asked concerned.

Blinking rapidly, Bucky looked up and stared at her for a split second.

“Card.” He muttered, the light bulb turning on. “That’s right. You need me to swipe.”

The cashier giggled and nodded, blushing lightly at the bashful grin he sent her way. He swiped the card, ignoring the way his fingers shook. The bagger set all his bag in the cart and bade him goodnight. Bucky nodded mindlessly, flashing him a hallow smile.

He hated how jumpy he had been tonight. His heart hadn’t once stopped pounding in his ears, there was an itch under his skin. While he put the bags in his car, his breathing began to pick up rapidly. Catching the side of the car, Bucky ducked his chin against his chest and tried to suck in air. A weight of terror sat on his chest, making it harder to breathe and harder to keep his wits.

Shit, he thought. Somewhere in his frantic mind, he realized he was having a panic attack. Gasping for air, he sank to the concrete, leaning against his open door. Bucky clutched his head, pulling and tugging at his locks.

Quit freaking out, quit freaking out, quit freaking out! Bucky chanted, but to no avail.

Suddenly, his phone vibrated in his pocket. He fumbled with the phone, barely glancing at the name before answering.

“Hey, Buck. Steve was wondering if you could grab-?”

“Y/N?” Bucky gasped. There was a pause.

“Bucky, what’s wrong?”

Bucky shook his head, the panic growing higher and higher. He couldn’t do this; he couldn’t stop it. The world became white noise, barely making out Y/N’s frantic pleas.

“Bucky! Where are you? Steve and I can come get you, but baby, you need to tell me where you are!”

“Grocery, grocery store.” Bucky panted. He heard her shout to someone on the other end, Steve no doubt. A flurry of noises as they rushed out the door. Then her soft soothing voice came back on the line.

“Okay, baby.” She began. “Steve and I are on the way. I need you to listen to me. Can you do that for me?”

Bucky nodded, gasping for air as tears started to fall down his cheeks.

“I need you to use your words, baby.”

“Y-yes.” He croaked.

“Okay good. Now I need you to take a deep breath with me. Can you do that?”

Bucky nodded, clutching his chest as he listened to Y/N. She took in a steady deep breath before loudly letting it go. Bucky struggled to follow, the panic still gripping tightly to his chest. Yet, Y/N never stopped. She whispered soft words of encouragement and kept repeating her breathing.

“You’re doing so good baby.” She cooed softly. Bucky’s eyes fell shut; his breathing not as bad as it once was. Now his body shook, his heart still pounded in his chest, but at least it wasn’t in his ears. “We’re right at the stoplight. Give us two minutes and we’ll be right there.”

Bucky mumbled something incoherent, his body sagging against the car. He heard a car pull up next to him. It barely made it into park before both doors were swung open and footsteps rushed to him. Soft hands framed his face, a familiar comforting smell wafting into his senses that caused his eyes to flutter open.

Y/N was kneeling between his legs, her face twisted in concern with tears threatening to spill. His gaze turned up to Steve who was standing behind Y/N, looking equally as worried and troubled. Sitting there wallowing in the outcome of his worst panic attack to date, Bucky felt helpless. He felt weak and useless. He was a cop couldn’t even make it one trip alone to the grocery store without having a full-blown panic attack. How ridiculous was that?

“How are you feeling?” Y/N asked quietly.

“Like shit.” Bucky voice cracked. Y/N twisted to look up at Steve. He let out a heavy exhale and shook his head. Y/N turned back to Bucky and gently took his hands.

“Let's get you off the ground and Steve can take you home.” Y/N instructed. She stood and helped Bucky stand on shaky legs before passing him off to Steve’s waiting arms. Bucky mumbled thanks and dug into his pocket to hand over to Y/N. Y/N pressed a gentle kiss to his chin. “We’ll get you home, get you some food and snuggle during a movie later. Okay?”

Bucky nodded sluggishly, leaning heavily on Steve. Steve didn’t seem bothered by Bucky’s added weight, but Y/N could see it on his face. This rattled him just as much as it rattled her. The two shared a knowing glance before Steve directed him to the front seat of the car. Y/N and Steve both shared a quick kiss in goodbye with Y/N saying she’d put the cart up and meet them at his apartment.

Steve pulled away, his knuckles turning white as he gripped the steering wheel. Bucky glanced over, his heart tightening in his chest. Only this time it was for a different reason. He hated seeing Steve and Y/N in pain, especially over him. He hated how distraught the two of them were when he was shot. He hated how they both looked so broken and helpless with how he was now. While he’d hate every second of it, Bucky knew what he needed to do. Turning back to the window, Bucky took in a deep cleansing breath and let out the denial with an exhale.

“I’m going to do the therapy.” He mumbled. Steve’s ears perked up, his head swiveling around to stare at Bucky.

“Really?” Steve asked uncertainly.

“Yeah,” Bucky bobbed his head. “I didn’t think I was that bad with how everything went down. Clearly, this was the wakeup call I needed.”

“That’s… That’s good.” Steve said, his voice growing excited. “This will be good for you, Buck.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Bucky grunted and stared out the window. “Don’t have to say I told you so.”

“Wasn’t gonna.”

“Lair.”

“Jerk.”

“Punk.”

Silence filled the car, the two smirking in the opposite directions. The air felt lighter between them, no longer was Steve unintentionally pressuring Bucky into this and Bucky wasn’t putting a wall to fight back. Steve reached over the center console and tenderly took Bucky’s hand in his. Bucky’s heart skipped a beat and he squeezed Steve’s hand.

“Love you, Buck.”

“Love you too, Steve.”

Boys in Blue Taglist: (CLOSED!!!)

@debgreenleaf / @thorins-queen-of-erebor / @merigoldcaroline / @urbanrights/ @taliarosej00 / @stuckysheart / @thenightkillers / @desertrose-saku / @weyheycraicey / @apocalypse-zombiie / @inspiration2001 / @impalaimages/ @reading-stan / @angelicdisgrace / @nastybuckybarnes / @mazarinqueen / @neverforget-whereyoubelong / @hayliz20 / @jessieray98 / @cs-please / @forsaken-letters / @anything–marvel / @all-fandomthings / @jbug491 / @marvelobsessedteen / @monikawhatthefuck / @myrabbitholetoneverland / @wingardiumlevidonewithlife / @darkblueeyedperson / @supernaturallover2002/ @savemesteeb / @juliet12345678 / @virtualsheepeat / @flyawaybay / @marvelous-capsicle / @fandom-addict-aesthetics / @chelzwwefan / @babygirlizz / @superhero2552 / @hermionesalvatore84 / @kianya-loves / @literalangels / @grey-stardancer / @krazyk99 / @avngrsinitiative / @bohemianrhapposts / @secretagentben / @javapeach / @mizzzpink / @capslut2014

Perma Tag: (CLOSED)

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(Let me know if I missed you, the strike means I can’t tag you for some reason.)

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the-fandom-took-over-my-life · 5 years

Text

The one where he blipped and you didn’t (Ch. 1)

Pairing: Peter Parker x Stark!Reader

Summary: Peter blipped. You didn’t. Now you’re both the same age and he’s confused by the kid he used to know and the girl you are now.

Word Count: 3k-ish

Warnings: Language, INFINITY WAR AND ENDGAME SPOILERS

A/N: Okay, this is Chapter One to this series. It’s a little long, I got carried away (sorry not sorry). Let me know what you think! Remember I also do requests, pls don’t get discouraged by my amateur profile, I’m still figuring it all out :)

Read the intro first

CHAPTER ONE

"Y/N, get your ass out of bed, you're going to be late." you heard Rhodey scold through your open door.

"Language" you mumbled sleepily.

"Goddamn- I don't have time for this." you heard him grumble under his breath and suddenly the fluorescent lights in your room switched on and you yelped in surprise, flinging the covers over your head. Rhodey chuckled and you heard your door swing shut.

"If I come back in 20 minutes and you're still in bed, I'm going to personally fly you to school." he said through the door and walked away.

You smiled sleepily. Rhodey, though he was tough on you, cared about you like his own daughter. Nearly eleven years ago your mother had died in a car crash and you were sent to live with your father, Tony. You, being so young, were excited to finally meet your father. Tony, on the other hand, was a wreck. He had just announced to the world that he was Iron Man and the last thing he wanted was to take care of and raise a child, whether it be his or not. He had all intention of sending you off to boarding school but, when he met you, he refused to make the same mistakes his father did. You instantly melted his heart with your smile and your big E/C eyes. After deciding to take you in, he asked Rhodey to be your Godfather, not that he was a very religious man, he just wanted someone else to be there for you if there came a day that he couldn't.

Deciding not to test Rhodey's threat, you rolled out of bed and stumbled into the bathroom. Your reflection in the mirror, in the such loving words of Peter, looked as if death had walked over you...twice. It wasn't a secret that, since the battle and your dad's death, you haven't been sleeping well. Thankfully, nightmares were a thing of the past ever since Bruce gave you something that evaded them. You remembered waking up screaming, tears streaming down your face, causing Rhodey to come and calm you down in the middle of the night. Every night you were forced to relive a part of the battle, and every night you were forced to see your dad die. Now, your sleep was a void that, although lacked the trauma, was a difficult place to find peace.

You scrubbed your face and brushed your teeth, avoiding your face in the mirror, and walked back into your room. Not really in the mood to dress nice, you pulled on some black tights and a big sweatshirt that was draped over your desk chair. You slipped on your converse and walked back into the bathroom to put concealer under your eyes. The last thing your need is for one of your teachers to send your to the counselors office because of your physical appearance...again.

Deciding you looked presentable, you slung your backpack over your shoulder and started downstairs before rushing back to your room to grab your phone, still charging on your nightstand. You found 6 new messages.

(1) Spider-thing: Hey are you gonna go to Flash's party tonight?

(2) Spider-thing: Don't tell me you slept in again

(3) Spider-thing: ok nvm I'll see u at school

(4) Ned: Hey Y/N u wanna go to Flash's tonight?

(5) Ned: Peter might confess his undying love for u, u never know

(6) Flash: Hope to see u at my party tonight I'll b waiting ;)

You rolled your eyes at Flash's text, and clicked the notification form Ned.

Y/N: yeah right after he confesses his undying love for Flash

He replied immediately, making you chuckle.

Ned: I'm telling u, he's got it bad 4 u

You rolled your eyes and slipped your phone in your back pocket. You found it funny; Ned's obsession with the idea of you and Peter as a couple, and sometimes you went along with it just to tease Peter, but that's all it was, teasing. Sure, he was hot and sweet and funny and, before the snap, these things nourished a major crush that bloomed in your little pre-teen heart. But things changed, you got older and, when he came back the same age as you, you had to remember that he probably still saw you as that little girl he used to babysit.

~TIME SKIP~

"Bye Happy, I'll see you after school!" you said, blowing Happy a kiss as you closed the car door. Happy rolled down his window.

"Call me if anything happens. Just call and I'll come and get you."

"I will." you said watched him drive off. Happy was, despite the fact that it's been a few months since everything happened, still worried about you. You didn't mind it though, you loved him for it.

Sighing, you walked into the building that leered over you. For the first time today, you realized how heavy your backpack was and you made a beeline for your locker. You smiled sadly and recalled how Nat would always get after you for carrying too much and you would get the lecture about how, even though you were an Avenger, you still had to take care of yourself. You stacked the books in your locker, slammed the door shut, and found yourself face to face with Peter.

"SHIT!" you shrieked as he howled with laughter.

"You shoulda- you should have seen your face" he said between breaths.

You rolled your eyes and shoved him into the lockers.

"This isn't funny you idiot, I could have attacked you" you said despite the smile growing on your lips.

"I can take you Stark" he said, regaining his breath.

"In your dreams Parker"

It was his turn to roll his eyes. It was then that you noticed the two coffee cups he held. You sighed in relief and gratefully took one from him.

"Anyway, you ignored my texts this morning. You wanna go to the party?" he said falling in step with you as you walked towards your first class.

"I don't know. Flash's parties always end with someone almost drowning in the pool or jumping off the roof."

"Oh c'mon, let's go. Maybe this time it'll be Flash jumping off the roof and it'll put us all out of our misery."

You couldn't stop the giggle that bubbled from your lips and you were about to reply when someone called you from behind.

You both turned to see Brad Davis walking briskly towards you. You smiled at him and slowed your pace so he could catch up.

"Hey Y/N, hey Peter." he said walking up beside you.

"Sup" Peter grumbled. You sent him a sideways glare and turned to up at Brad.

Despite the numerous times you questioned Peter about his silent grudge against Brad, he could never give you a straight answer on why he hated him. "I don't trust him" he would always say, but you could never figure out why. Brad, like you, survived the snap and, because you were both in the same grade, became friends.

"Are you guys going to the party tonight?" he asked.

"Jeez, is that the only thing everyone cares about?" you said jokingly.

"Well, it is the only good thing about high school" he said, making you laugh.

Over the past couple of years, Brad was the person who got to hear all the complaints you had about high school. He had always been an annoyingly upbeat guy and he took all your complaints in stride, turning them into something that you should be grateful for. The last five years gave you very few things to be grateful for, but Brad was one of them.

"You're definitely right about that. But, yeah we're planning on going" you said, slightly nudging Peter next to you.

"Awesome. I'll see you there then." Brad said and waved as he turned down a passing hallway.

"Aw, I love Brad" you said fondly as you watched him disappear in the growing crowd of students. You looked up at Peter just in time to see him roll his eyes at your comment. You frowned at him, annoyed of his attitude.

"Dude, seriously, what the hell is your problem?"

"Nothing. He just rubs me the wrong way I guess." he said with a shrug.

It was your turn to roll your eyes.

"Oh c'mon. you're just mad that he became hot while you were gone and now all the girls want him"

"It's just weird. One day he was this tiny annoying kid and the next he's huge." Peter said before bringing his coffee to his lips.

"Well it wasn't like that for all of us." you reminded him. "And how is that weird for you? You literally got bit by a spider and became hot overnight."

At your words Peter choked on his coffee and coughed furiously, trying to breathe through the hot liquid.

"Y-you think I'm hot?" he spluttered in disbelief

For about the millionth time this morning, you rolled your eyes at him.

"Dude, have you seen your abs? I had the biggest crush on you and your stupid hot spider muscles" you said with a smirk.

Peter stopped in his tracks in the middle of the hall and stared at you with huge eyes.

"You had a crush on me?"

"Yeah, when I was like 13. You don't think I actually needed so much help on my algebra homework, did you? What's the matter with you?" you said laughing

Peter was staring at you like you had just dropped from another planet.

"I-I just never knew you felt that way about me." he said, eyes still wide.

You rose your eyebrows at him.

"Yeah, well, I was a kid. I also thought the tooth fairy was real. I grew up. Anyway, let's forget that I was once a pre-teen and move on."

Peter furrowed his eyebrows at you, but let the subject go. He walked quietly beside you and barely even acknowledged you when you turned into your calculus class, telling him you'll see him later. Confused, you shot a text to Ned.

Y/N: Dude Peter's being weird

Ned: He's always weird what's ur point?

Y/N: true

Y/N: ur right, nvm I'll see u at lunch

Ned: cool

Accepting that Ned was right, you chose to forget about Peter and try to focus on the party that awaited tonight as your teacher started the lecture. 'Derivatives' you thought with a smirk, 'what child’s play”.

~TIME SKIP~

"Alright losers, we'll meet at Peter's place at 7 then, right?" you said as the three you you walked out of the school's parking lot.

"Yeah definitely. I'm thinking about bringing back my hat. Betty says it compliments my face structure, whatever that means." Ned said, earning a laugh form you.

"Earth to Peter. You are being uncharacteristically quiet" you said to Peter who was staring into space as you walked.

"Sorry, right. My place at 7." he said, jolting from his daze.

You eyed him, but, before you could question his behavior, you heard a familiar honk and turned around to see Happy waiting for you.

"I'll see you guys tonight." you said with a wave, and walked toward the car.

Peter watched the car drive away, and as soon as it disappeared down the road, he turned to Ned.

"Y/N used to have a crush on me!" he blurted out.

Ned furrowed his eyebrows. "Okay, and?"

"What do you mea- she used to like me! Like, like me like me" Peter said

Ned smirked

"And you're so freaked out about this why?"

Peter stared at him. "I don't know. It's just weird"

"Or is it because you just found out that the girl you are head over heels for used to have a crush on you?"

Peter rolled his eyes.

"I do not have a crush on Y/N, how many times to I have to tell you. And, anyway, I'm not freaked out, it's just weird."

"Sure Peter."

~TIME SKIP`

You knocked on the door to Peter's apartment and dusted yourself off, waiting for someone to answer. You were excited to get to the party and relax for the first time this week. You looked down at your outfit for about the millionth time and inspected it. You were wearing a black sheer long sleeve with a solid black stripe around your chest and a pair of distressed light wash skinny jeans and black platform doc martin boots.

You were adjusted the hem of your top when May opened the door and immediately enveloped you in a big hug.

"Y/N how are you? I feel like I haven't seen you in so long."

You had actually seen her last week, but you smiled at her comment.

"I'm good May. Are the boys here?" you asked, walking into the apartment.

"Yeah they are in Peter's room. Maybe you can help Peter find something to wear, he's more indecisive than I am." she chuckled.

"I'll see what I can do." you said with a chuckle and walked toward his closed door but stopped when you heard them talking.

"It's obvious that you like her Peter, all you have to do is tell her.” you heard Ned say through the door.

Peter had a crush on a girl? Why hasn't he told you about it? You didn't really know how to feel about this new information. Peter was your best friend and, sure he had every right to like who he pleases, but you couldn't help but feel a little hurt. You were always the only girl in his life, even when you were younger, and you couldn't imagine Peter with anyone else. I mean, you’re not dating or anything. But, it was not your decision to make, and with that final thought, you pushed your feelings aside and opened the door to reveal Peter standing in the middle of the room in just his boxers.

"Y/N!" he shouted, his face turning beet red.

"Oh relax Peter, it's not like I've never seen you like this" you said with a playful smirk.

It was true, you were always the one to patch him up after a bad patrol.

"Anyway, May told me that you couldn't figure out what to wear so I've come to the rescue." you said and walked past him to his closet.

Peter, for the first time, realized what you were wearing and his face flushed even darker. He took in you sheer top that showed your stomach and back and the skinny jeans that accented your...

"Y/N you look really nice" Ned piped up from the bed, wiggling his eyebrows at his visibly flustered friend.

"Aw thank you Ned" you said, turning from the closet with an armful of clothes which you handed to Peter who refused to meet your eyes.

"Okay, put this on" you said to Peter, and walked out of the room to chat with May in the meantime.

"May, has Peter talked to you about any girls recently?" you said as you walked into the kitchen where she was drying dishes.

She looked up and gave you a faux look of surprise.

"No, not recently. Why do you ask?" she said, handing you the plate she was holding.

She, like Ned, also had her suspicions about the relationship between you and Peter. She’d always noticed the way Peter looks at you and the way his face just lights up whenever she mentions you. She, too, thought the pair of you would make a great couple.

You went to put the plate in it's respective cabinet and shrugged. "I don't know, I was just wondering."

She smiled at you. "I don't know, I always thought he would end up with you." she said slyly, picking up another dish.

Your eyes widened, and you were about to answer when Peter appeared in the doorway. He was wearing the simple outfit you had picked for him: dark blue jeans and a black tee shirt. You couldn't help but admire how the shirt accented his abs and his toned arms.

"You look good Pete." you said and chuckled at the light blush that dusted his cheeks.

"just one more thing" you said as you walked up to him and reached for his head. He leaned back and looked down at you in confusion.

"Oh c'mon, don't you trust me? I won't bite." you said, smiling.

He narrowed his eyes at you playfully, but leaned back toward you and you carded you fingers through his hair, mussing it up.

You fixed you attention on his hair and you missed the way he closed his eyes and leaned into your relaxing touch. He was also acutely aware of how close you were to him and the intoxicating smell of your perfume.

"You guys ready?" Ned said suddenly from behind, and you pulled away, ending the moment Peter was relishing.

You stepped back and admired your work. "What do you think May?" you said without taking your eyes off of him.

"He's never looked better" she replied teasingly and Peter rolled his eyes as you laughed.

"Yeah, can we just go already?" he said, faking annoyance and smiled at you.

"Yeah, let's go!" you said and you grabbed his hand and dragged him towards the door, Ned and May trailing behind you, sharing a knowing glance.

You led him through the hallway, toward the exit and Peter tried his hardest to ignore the tingling in his hand as it held yours. He didn't want to admit it, but, recently, he couldn't remember what is was about you that reminded him of a sister. It was becoming harder to see you as the little 13 year old he used to know, but he couldn't tell Ned that yet. He didn't want to have to deal with any 'I told you so's right now, so he just relished the feeling of your hand in his and, for the first time this week, began to really look forward to the party.

#peter parker #peter x stark!reader #peter x reader #spiderman #peter parker x y/n #peter parker x reader #tom holland #peter parker fanfiction #spiderman x reader

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wonkyjaw · 5 years

Text

Traitors bleed lies from their tongues until with help they bleed elsewhere. Andrew was willing to be that unrelenting force, the brick wall this man would beat himself against until, eventually, there was nothing left. There were only so many lies a man could tell before he realized they weren’t going to be bought and they could only hope it didn’t take all night for the man to twist his tongue into too many knots. Andrew silently watched, bored, as the man winced, ropes tightening around wrists, elbows, shoulders. He hadn’t needed their help to keep him down, but Kevin had insisted.

“Who are you?” he asked, the words rebounding off concrete walls. They were alone, Andrew left in his domain. This was a game and he wasn’t used to losing.

***

“My name is Neil, I told you that,” Neil spat out some blood with his words, aiming for feet that were too far away. The room was dark enough that most of it lay in shadow. It was impossible to tell how many of the four had gone already, which one it was that was left. Based on the height of the shadow in front of him, though, he’d hazard a guess it was one of the midget twins. If he was a betting man, he’d assume it was the one they’d called Andrew. There had been a certain violence to the hollow glances he’d passed Neil’s way before they’d gotten here that threatened to shake Neil down.

Neil cursed himself again for getting caught at all. He knew it was enemy territory. He knew this was where Kevin Day had fled to when the Raven’s had turned him out into the gutter labeled useless. It’d be hard to fight with his newly broken hand, so Kevin fled. For the thousandth time Neil forced himself to not wonder and focused his attention back on Andrew who seemed unconvinced if the set of his shoulders meant anything.

“My name’s Neil Josten. This is a mistake,” he said, not having to force the dramatic quiver into his voice. He’d been bound tight, one wrong word could mean death. Neil hadn’t survived this long to go out on a stupid mistake like this. “A misunderstanding.”

Andrew stepped into the circle of light lightening fast, a knife out and against Neil’s throat before Neil knew where he’d misstepped. “I don’t like that word,” Andrew said, sounding bored - like he was announcing his mild dislike of a certain color, not threatening to slit another man’s throat.

“Then I guess I’ll avoid using it,” Neil murmured, careful to keep still. He could feel the bite of metal and was sure he was bleeding. When Andrew stepped back an inch Neil took his chances on another lie. “Who are you?”

Andrew stared at him for a moment and then backed into the shadows again. Neil watched him, but he stood stock still just slightly out of sight. Neil needed a good story and fast.

“Fine, I was seeking asylum,” he said. If they’d taken in Kevin, then it meant at least one person on the crew held maybe an ounce of decency. Neil knew it was stupid to be in such proximity to a man who with one small slip could identify him, the real him, but at this point it seemed like it was either roll the dice on Kevin having bad memory or die tied to a chair in a cement room. Neil figured one of those options would hurt less than the other.

Andrew took half a step back into the light, impassive. Neil took it as interest and closed his eyes. One deep breath later and he was giving this stranger more truth than he’d spilled in years.

“I know who you are and I know I shouldn’t have come here, but I’m desperate. The Foxes seemed like my best option, especially since you took in Kevin.” Neil wanted to choose his words carefully, but needed to come across as authentic. Authenticity required missteps. Mentioning Kevin now could mean an immediate death or it could be intriguing enough to keep him alive.

When Andrew took a step further into the light Neil saw his white knuckled grip around the knife. He waited for a verdict and realized one wasn’t coming. Andrew was waiting for more honesty and Neil would continue to feed him snippets and scraps until it was enough.

Neil bit down hard on his tongue and held back a rush of panic - just barely. “I took something that didn’t belong to me. I’ve been running, but I can’t run anymore.” Down to the barest bones, it wasn’t a lie. “You don’t have to trust me to help me,” he added when he realized Andrew was unmoved.

Andrew took slow steps until he stood beneath the single light, the grip on the knife loosening until it twirled around his fingers. “So are you a thief or a liar?” he asked, continuing to pace around the chair. From out of sight he tacked on “or both?” like he knew it was the answer.

Everything about the moment felt melodramatic, but that didn’t stop the rush of blood Neil could hardly hear over in his ears. Neil tugged at the rope binding his wrists, but it only dug in and burned. Somewhere behind him a door opened and Neil heard it swing shut, heavy and metallic.

Thinking he was alone, Neil let his head drop to his chest, struggling to piece together enough fact and fiction to satisfy Andrew or whoever it was who’d come to see him next. If he could only talk to Wymack he knew he’d be safe, at least for the night. Wymack had a notorious soft-spot for sob stories and lost causes and Neil could appeal to that easily.

When heavy boots hit cement, continuing the circuit around his chair, Neil realized he wasn’t actually alone yet. He looked up to see Andrew watching him. With only inches between them, Andrew was easier to read. The look on his face wasn’t blank so much as mildly intrigued. Very mildly. Still, Neil couldn’t help but feel that everything he did was just another puzzle piece for Andrew.

“Who are you?” he asked a third time.

Neil sighed and let his head drop again. “If you’re going to kill me, I’d appreciate you getting it over with already.” He rolled his neck as he looked back up at Andrew who looked nearly amused. Neil swore he was seeing things.

“Why would I bother killing a nobody like you?” Andrew asked, the knife catching light where it spun in his hand.

Neil couldn’t decide where to keep his eyes, both the man and the knife seemed too sharp to ignore. He tugged at the ropes a little, not trying to get loose so much as making a statement. “Tell me what I’m supposed to think, Andrew,” he said drily, “because this feels grossly reminiscent of a child playing with his food.”

Andrew cocked his head to the side, but before he could state what was on his mind the door opened again. The sound of it clanging shut almost covered the noise of heavy footfalls and nearly growled breaths. Almost.

Neil recognized the man who stomped his way to stand beside Andrew whether he wanted to or not. Wymack was probably twice the size of Andrew and looked one hundred times as pissed off. Neil clenched his hands into fists behind his back, fighting the urge to squirm, suddenly too reminded of a past he’d spent too long running from.

“Would you mind explaining what in God’s name is going on here?” Wymack asked, the words grinding out of his mouth in a way that made Neil flinch. Why had he ever thought talking with Wymack would be better?

“I’m doing my job,” Andrew said in easy explanation, a minuscule shrug crossing his shoulders. The knife flipped in his hand and Neil struggled to choose between watching it and watching Wymack.

“He’s just a kid, Minyard,” Wymack growled, stepping towards Neil.

“I’m nineteen,” Neil said, a lie, but somehow nineteen sounded leagues more impressive than eighteen.

Wymack stopped for a second to glance Neil over again with a look Neil didn’t fully comprehend, before moving behind Neil and prying at the rope tying him to the chair. “This is why we can’t have nice things,” he grumbled.

Andrew took a few steps back, the knife in his fingers moving faster. He was agitated, even though his expression still seemed empty. “If he was nice you wouldn’t want to keep him,” he stated.

When Neil’s hands were free he stayed sitting, but rubbed fingers into sore wrists. Wymack came around and crouched before him so they could see eye to eye. Neil watched the older man and thought of his father. Wymack was darker, tribal tattoos on his arms on full display due to a lack of sleeves. Wymack’s eyes looked almost kind as he considered Neil and Neil fought the urge to shudder at the thought.

“You got any useful skills?” Wymack asked.

“He’s a thief,” Andrew stated before Neil could open his mouth.

“I thought he was a liar,” Wymack said, glancing back at Andrew briefly. Andrew just shrugged in response so Wymack turned his attention back to Neil. “You a good thief?”

“I’m not a thief,” Neil said, which was mostly true. He paid for what he could, but living on the run got expensive and keeping odd hours meant sometimes the things he needed were behind locked doors. “But I’m not useless.”

Wymack seemed to be waiting for some solid answer and Neil could feel Andrew’s eyes boring into the side of his head, though he didn’t dare to look away from the older man. Neil wasted time running through a mental list of his skills, trying to decide which were the most useful and which were the most dangerous. He knew several ways to kill a man and the more efficient ways to lose a body. He knew how to lie in three different languages and how to disappear in 22 different cities in 6 different countries. He knew how to enter and exit a building like a ghost and how to lose a tail in a car and on foot. He still had a list of his mother’s connections, the ability to become a new person overnight.

When Neil spent too long debating what skills he’d be able to showcase as the mild-mannered character he’d built Neil Josten to be, Andrew apparently ran out of patience.

“I think he’s a traitor,” Andrew said.

“I know, Andrew.” Wymack’s eyes didn’t leave Neil’s face, though he seemed annoyed by Andrew’s insistence.

“You know what I do to traitors,” Andrew said.

Neil sent the flicker of a glance Andrew’s way and saw the first true emotion in the apathy of those hazel eyes. A deep, dark something was hidden there, enough to keep Neil’s attention. Wymack grabbed Neil’s collar and dragged him to his feet. Instead of standing straight, Neil winced at the memory of a bat meeting his stomach and hunched to keep the sharper of his pains from reigniting.

Wymack sighed and let go of Neil’s jacket. “What’d you do?”

Neil glanced up in time to realize Wymack was looking to Andrew for answers and kept his mouth shut. Andrew shrugged, realizing he’d lost this battle. Neil watched him walk away, the door slamming shut behind him as he went. The faint light from the world outside that door disappeared with Andrew and Neil wondered what kind of trouble he was getting himself into now.

He could run as soon as they let him out of their sight. He could get new documents, a passport. He’d been meaning to learn Spanish, maybe he could do it in Spain, thousands of miles away from here.

Wymack’s heavy hand meeting his shoulder made Neil nearly jump out of his skin. Wymack let go almost immediately, watching Neil carefully for just a moment before walking around him to follow Andrew out of the room. “You comin’?” he asked.

Neil turned off his brain and nodded. He may be stepping into danger, but no matter where he was headed now it was strides closer to freedom than he’d been before and that was more than enough.

#aftg #an au ive been playing with #if it goes anywhere ill post to ao3 #but for now i very much like parts of this and the idea of just making them gangs #maybe eventually ill figure out how to get it to work without breaking canon too much #writing #also mega sorry for how long this is im on mobile and cant add a read more link

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recklessheroism-archive-blog · 6 years

Photo

( reposted from my about page in a reblogabble form w/ formatting changes. if you find the formatted version visually difficult or irritating to read, the unformatted version is on the about page! this & the about page will be updated as i learn more things about my muse. )

for the most part, my portrayal will follow the canon of star trek: alternate original series. however, here are some things i’ve added to my version of jim.

trigger warnings: abuse, starvation, murder, death, ptsd, traumatic mutism, bipolar disorder, & eating disorder.

triggers are bolded at the beginning of each section so that you can skip over anything that may be triggering for you. if you’d like a summary of any part that you skipped over, feel free to ask me! i can change things around, to a certain extent, so that we can write together.

1. tw: abuse. jim & his stepfather, frank, were not on the best of terms. ever since frank had come into his life, jim had despised him. there was just something about the way he treated winona that jim didn’t like. he’d only given the guy a chance at his mother’s request, something which he sorely regretted after she married him. when winona went back to starfleet, sam ran away from home & jim was left with frank & his abusive tendencies. it started just bad moods & snide remarks, but the remarks got worse with time. words became stronger, louder. they were picked more carefully, picked to tear the young boy apart. & as if that wasn’t enough, frank shoved him, hit him, even made him bleed. the effects of this abuse still haunt jim, but he’s been healing with time & distance.

2. tw: starvation, murder, death. after jim had stolen & wrecked frank’s car, frank unilaterally enrolled jim in the earth colony on tarsus iv. winona had no knowledge of this decision, as she was off-world with starfleet. the distance was freeing, at first. he was glad to be out from under frank’s thumb at last. on tarsus iv, he was able to live the kind of childhood he’d wanted. for a time, he was happy. he did well in school, he played sports, he had friends — he thrived. but unfortunately, it didn’t last.

famine fell over the colony as an exotic fungus destroyed their food supply. suddenly, paradise had become hell. as colonists panicked & worried, riots began to break out. jim ran from the facility he’d been living at with the few children he knew that were now or previously orphaned, & they stuck together for as long as they could. naturally, he took charge of the small group, organizing them in a way that would benefit the group the most. he & the older children would scavenge for food while those younger would stay together & hide.

it worked for a short while, but like the rest of those who had survived the first wave of death, their group began to succumb as well. jim tried his best to care for them all. he made sure they had first pick of the food, & he only ate as much as he needed to survive another day. he did everything he could to make sure they survived. there are things he did there that he’ll never speak of.

but the worst of it all was how he killed to save them. the first time, he didn’t sleep for days. he felt so ill he could barely move, but he had to. he had to take care of the others. it got a little easier with time, but it was always a last resort. in the end, though, he lost most of them to starvation or illness or both. by the end, it was only him & kevin riley left.

they were eventually forced to rejoin a larger group out of necessity when kevin fell ill. jim refused to let the young boy die too. with help from the larger group, they were able to nurse him back to relative health. but that’s when it happened.

governor kodos, under the pretense of aid, divided the remaining colonists into two groups. unbeknownst to them, the division would cost 4,000 colonists their lives. kodos had separated the survivors based on strength & likelihood of survival. those who were stronger & more likely to survive were allowed to live. those who were weaker & less likely were executed. jim was one of nine eyewitnesses to the execution.

supply ships arrived too late to save the 4,000 sentenced to death, but when they arrived, jim & the remaining orphaned children were sent home to earth. to this day, jim still has ptsd & nightmares about life on tarsus iv & the execution of 4,000 innocent survivors.

3. tw: ptsd, traumatic mutism. following the traumatic events on tarsus iv, jim & kevin returned to earth & were placed into the care of jim’s mother, who had returned as soon as she had learned of the famine & that frank had sent jim there. at that point, she was in the process of divorcing frank, & she filed for a restraining order on her & jim’s behalf.

jim regularly saw a child psychologist to help him through his ptsd. directly following the events of the tarsus iv massacre, jim went without speaking for about a month. his psychologist assured his mother that he would speak when he was ready, & that it was his mind’s way of coping with what happened.

additionally, for years after his return from tarsus iv, jim would hide scraps of food around the house. this was both to convince his mother that he was finishing his meals & out of fear that another famine could occur at any moment.

with time & support, his symptoms have nearly disappeared, but he will occasionally have periods of ptsd related distress, specifically in the form of nightmares & anxiety, even in adulthood.

4a. tw: bipolar disorder. while at starfleet academy, jim began to act out of the ordinary. some days, he found it difficult to get out of bed. or when he did, he felt incredibly numb & unable to enjoy all the things he loved to do. some days, he couldn’t sleep at all & stayed out all night, & he could become incredibly irritible at the drop of a hat. there was no obvious reason as to why he behaved these ways, so jim hadn’t seen them as a problem at the time. but as these behaviors & others began to exhibit themselves, jim’s friends became increasingly worried about him. leonard mccoy was especially concerned.

being jim’s roommate & best friend, leonard had a hard time standing by & allowing jim to push himself into riskier & riskier situations. shortly after leonard had expressed this concerns, jim began to see that he was right. he had been denying any problems he’d been facing for far too long, & he needed to confront them instead. so, with a lot of coaxing from leonard, jim made an appointment to see one of starfleet academy’s mental health professionals.

the process of diagnosis didn’t happen overnight. in fact, it took many weeks before they reached any sort of conclusion. but when they did, it was then that jim learned he had bipolar disorder. ( this form is likely bipolar II disorder. source: here. ) at the time, he was unsure of what this meant, but he was assured by the counseling team that with some help & support, he would be able to manage his moods better.

for the rest of his time at the academy, he continued attending weekly therapy sessions & tried out different medications until he & his therapist were satisfied he’d found the right one. while friends came & went, leonard was there every step of the way.

by the time he was given command of the enterprise, he was mentally in a much healthier state. but that doesn’t mean he never struggled. currently, he does what he can to manage his symptoms, but he’s human, & he can’t always handle them as well as he would like to. but with the help & support of his close friends, his therapist, & a strict self-imposed therapy plan, he generally manages well. ( for more information on bipolar disorder, go here. many of the items in the chart of signs & symptoms apply to jim during the corresponding episodes. )

4b. tw: abuse, eating disorder, bipolar disorder. as a result of growing up with a physically, verbally, & emotionally abusive step-father, jim occasionally has trouble when it comes to taking care of himself. specifically, he has a mild form of anorexia & struggles with eating enough food. this tendency seems to stem from the traumatic events of tarsus iv & childhood self-esteem issues brought on by his step-father, who often made negative comments about his weight when he was young.

this disordered eating has gotten better with time & effort, but he is more likely to relapse during depressive & manic episodes of his bipolar disorder. during depressive episodes, his self-esteem is lowered & he begins to worry about his weight. this causes him to eat very little. during manic episodes, he can be moving so quickly & erratically that he forgets to eat.

even when he is not experiencing symptoms of an episode, he can have trouble with food. as a result of his time spent in crisis on tarsus iv, he rarely eats a full meal. he feels that there must be other people who need food more than he does, so he can go without for them. it’s a habit, a destructive thought he’s been trying to break, but it’s been years & he still has trouble. with a lot of coaxing & assurance, he can finish a meal, but he never feels truly great about it. he has, however, broken his habit of hiding large quantities of food.

5. on a lighter note, jim has a cat! her name is rosie & he adores her. he found her during one of the enterprise’s pit stops when she stowed away on the ship. he loves her so much that no one has had the heart to remind him that it’s not exactly allowed.

she is very affectionate & serves as an emotional support animal for jim as well as an unofficial therapy cat for most of the bridge crew, as those are the crewmembers closest to jim.

rosie is a special cat as well. she has the ability to walk on walls & ceilings, & she is often found hiding on one of those surfaces when she wants some alone time. additionally, her eyes & fur appear to sparkle a bit, like she was bathed in stars.

6. jim is very respectful of women. ( fuck you, j.j. abrams. ) therefore, that scene where he hid under gaila’s bed and saw nyota undressing? jim may have seen nyota, but he immediately looked away. same goes for that scene with carol marcus changing. james. tiberius. kirk. respects. women.

7. follow these links for romance & sex headcanons.

#《 ★ 》 about jim #《 ★ 》 headcanon

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expatimes · 3 years

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Parenting Through Illness Prepared Me for Parenting in a Pandemic

An unexpected breast cancer diagnosis changed my life. It also provided valuable lessons that have given me hope during a global pandemic.

Four years ago, I heard words no one ever wants to hear: “You have cancer.”

With that one sentence, my world was thrown into chaos.

A busy working mother with a demanding job and an equally demanding toddler, I didn’t have time for a serious illness. But cancer doesn’t wait for anyone’s schedule, so I had to rearrange my life to focus on my health.

Fast-forward to 2020, and suddenly I’ve found myself in a very similar position.

Seemingly overnight, COVID-19 became a global pandemic, and my busy life once again came to a screeching halt as my family and I hunkered down at home to prevent the spread of the highly contagious disease.

As I, along with so many others around the globe, began navigating this strange world of social distancing and quarantines, I couldn’t help feeling a sense of déjà vu.

Just as it had become during cancer, my schedule was no longer my own — I felt completely out of control of my own life.

And I wasn’t the only one feeling that way.

My son — who by this time was nearly 6 years old — had his world turned upside-down, as well. His preschool closed, and though we didn’t initially have to struggle to transition to virtual learning, he still had a hard time understanding why he could no longer see his teachers and friends each day.

Even harder, we made the decision to stay away from my in-laws, who’d provided childcare for our son since his infancy.

For the past 3 years that he was in half-day preschool, he spent his afternoons with his grandparents, an arrangement that both they and we loved. But we couldn’t risk their health no matter how difficult it was emotionally for them or our son.

These disruptions and difficult decisions all felt so familiar to me — as I imagine they do to so many others who’ve parented through a serious illness.

Disease — be it COVID-19, cancer, or something else — is an unseen invader, taking control of our bodies and lives often before we even know it’s there. It leaves you feeling lonely, isolated, and in a surreal state of wondering how you’ll make it to the next day.

And while these emotions are difficult enough for adults to process, they can be even more frightening for kids, who are too young to have developed coping mechanisms for managing high levels of stress.

As my family settled into our “new normal” of pandemic life, I found myself turning to lessons I learned during my bout with breast cancer to help us navigate these unsettling times.

During chemo and after my mastectomy, I was mostly home bound, and being stuck at home made me feel isolated from loved ones.

I realized the power of connection to family and friends, and how not having those daily interactions with the ones I loved made the experience of being sick even harder.

Those feelings were amplified during quarantine, so I knew the importance of making time for video calls with family, plus virtual play dates and sharing video messages with friends via apps like Marco Polo for both my son and me.

Sure, it was easier to just veg out in front of the TV, but making time for human interaction boosted our mood far more than a Netflix binge.

And that feeling of connection wasn’t only with people outside our home — I also learned how important it is to spend quality time with my husband and child.

During this pandemic, some of our most fulfilling moments have been when we put away our devices in favor of a board game or relaxing in our backyard.

Serious illness also taught me patience that has helped me navigate the difficult days of the pandemic.

After facing a life-threatening disease, I realized that sweating the small stuff does nothing but cause more worry and frustration in my life. When I feel myself getting upset over something, I stop and think, “Is this worth my emotion, in the big picture?” Usually, it’s not.

This was an invaluable tool as my son began virtual kindergarten this fall.

As we navigated the completely foreign process of logging into multiple platforms and figuring out how to stay engaged with a screen for hours — all while dealing with glitches and outages that some days made online learning impossible — we both struggled with frustration and anger.

But as I felt my temper flare, I remembered that an online glitch isn’t worth a meltdown. In the big picture, these days will be small blips in his overall school experience.

And while patience is one of my biggest takeaways from serious illness, the biggest lesson I learned from my cancer diagnosis and treatment was perspective.

During my illness, there were days I wasn’t sure I’d ever feel good again; days I wondered if life would ever return to some sense of normalcy.

When you’re in the midst of something as life-altering as serious illness or a global pandemic, it can feel as though there’s no light at the end of the proverbial tunnel.

And for my child, this feeling was just as strong, and far more frightening.

But when he shares his fears that COVID-19 will never end, and he’ll never enjoy a normal life again, I can reassure him from personal experience that this is simply a season in our lives, and it will pass.

Hand-in-hand, these lessons of patience and perspective guide me as a parent through this pandemic experience. They remind me that these days will not last, and that better times will come.

And they help me recognize that I have the power to make these days good no matter what life throws at us — all I have to do is focus on the positive and remember that if I can handle a life-threatening illness, I can handle this.

Jennifer Bringle has written for Glamour, Good Housekeeping, and Parents, among other outlets. She’s working on a memoir about her post-cancer experience. Follow her on Twitter and Instagram.

#health Read full article: https://expatimes.com/?p=14438&feed_id=18659

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oovitus · 5 years

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Daniel Hayes: Making peace with the long game.

As a devoted runner, fitness was just a way of life for Daniel Hayes. So when his health threw him a curveball and he wound up on meds that slowed his metabolism, none of his usual approaches to weight maintenance worked. Now, 35 pounds later, he’s fit again, and an inspiration to his young son.

++++

When you’re an avid marathoner, you expect your body to obey.

You run more miles each week; your body readily responds with improved conditioning and endurance.

You dial up protein and vegetables, your body snaps to attention with more muscle and less fat.

But in 2008, at the age of 38, the easy cause-and-effect, master-and-servant relationship that Daniel Hayes had with his body suddenly reversed.

While training for his fifth marathon, Daniel, of Chicago, Illinois, began experiencing a heartburn-like sensation every time his heart rate went above a certain point.

Knowing his body well enough to be concerned, he made an appointment with a cardiologist. The exam revealed a problem that would change the course of his life: One of his arteries was 90 percent blocked.

If he hadn’t caught it, Daniel’s doctors said his condition would have culminated in a fatal heart attack.

Now with stents in two coronary arteries and working his way through cardiac rehabilitation, Daniel was recovering well and started running again. But his body wasn’t the same.

“One of the unfortunate things is that I was put on a heavy dose of statins and a beta-blocker, which really slowed down my metabolism,” Daniel says.

“I gained about 30 pounds over the next 5 or 6 years just from the meds alone.”

Although he had years of experience maintaining a fit body, Daniel discovered his tried-and-true strategies no longer worked. They were simply no match for his new health realities.

What’s more, the time he could devote to figuring out a nutrition and fitness approach that would work was more limited than ever.

For one thing, Daniel was spending lots of time caring for his mother, who was struggling with dementia and, sadly, eventually passed away in 2013.

Meanwhile, the company he worked for was bought out, and Daniel found himself dealing with the pressures and commitments that come when you know your job is on the rocks.

Thankfully, there was a bright spot too: The birth of his first son. But as any new parent soon finds out, caring for a small child doesn’t usually increase the amount of time you’re able to dedicate to nutrition and fitness.

Daniel at his heaviest, the result of a slowed metabolism plus lots of competing priorities.

Though he continued to exercise, Daniel no longer felt like the fit, healthy guy he once was.

By 2015, with his weight not budging from his new high of 238, it was clear to Daniel that he needed to try something different. He couldn’t expect a quick fix; that ship had sailed.

“I just looked myself in the eye and said, ‘I’ve got do something about this. I need to be healthy. Especially for my wife and son.’”

Enter Precision Nutrition Coaching.

Daniel realized that in order to lose weight in a way that worked with his medications, health history, and demanding life, he would need some help.

So he researched nutrition coaching options online, and liked what he read about PN’s habits-based approach.

He would need to “meet himself where he was” and focus on sustainable practices rather than short-term hacks.

So he dug into the PN program’s habits and gradually changed his approach to food.

One of the biggest changes? Eating slowly to 80 percent full — a lifelong “anchor” practice that helps you reconnect with your metabolism and hunger cues.

Daniel realized he had gotten used to feeling completely stuffed after meals.

“My parents grew up during the depression and I think that’s where my habits came from,” explains Daniel. “You had to finish everything on your plate. Nothing could be wasted. I grew up with that mindset, so it was a hard one to break through.”

After a year in the program, Daniel had added muscle mass (and lots of strength), and lost about 12 pounds of body fat. Plus, by trying out activities he hadn’t done before, he learned to think of movement and exercise as enjoyable rather than an obligation.

But the biggest transformation after that first year? The depth of his self-knowledge.

A slowed metabolism paired with deep-seated clean-your-plate habits don’t resolve overnight. So six months after finishing the program, Daniel realized that he missed the support and accountability of having a nutrition coach.

Daniel knew he had more healthy-habit practicing to do, and more weight he wanted to lose. He was on a longer journey than he’d realized — and that was ok.

Daniel finished that second year feeling more grounded than ever, and couldn’t resist the urge to sign up for a third round. To date, he has lost almost 35 pounds.

Daniel preps for a workout several months into his PN journey.

The strategy that Daniel has embraced, with much success: playing the long game.

Just like marathon training, sustainable eating and fitness habits that make sense for complicated health and life circumstances often require time and repetition to take hold.

“It takes a while for someone to get into the state they’re in, so it’s going to take them a while to get out of it,” Daniel says. “It’s not going to happen overnight.”

Now, even when life throws its characteristic challenges at Daniel — these days, it’s usually in the form of a busy schedule or having to travel for work — he knows he can rely on his newly ingrained healthy habits.

“At the very least, I know I can always practice eating slowly and eating to 80 percent full. And I can usually fit in some quick body weight exercises. Those familiar practices keeps me on track even when life gets crazy.”

Another advantage of the long game: You have the resilience to understand that your health and weight can absorb life’s inevitable nutrition and fitness “missteps.”

“Be patient,” Daniel urges. “Be patient with the process and be patient with yourself. You take it day by day. It’s these small, incremental changes that get you to your goal.”

“Sometimes you’ll eat or drink too much. Instead of being really hard on yourself, you can just say, ‘You know what? Life happens. Tomorrow is a new day.'”

More importantly, Daniel knows that his new long-term habits make him a better role model for his son.

At the outset of that first year of PN Coaching, as he dreamed of somehow getting back to being the healthy guy he’d once been, Daniel envisioned taking up martial arts… to keep up with his young son, who’s been a karate enthusiast since he was 4 years old.

The moment Daniel realized he finally had enough confidence to start taking Brazilian jiu-jitsu, he know he’d “made it.”

Daniel after a jiu jitsu spar with his young son.

“Now when my son sees me doing martial arts, he wants to do it more too. I’m proud of that.”

Daniel’s son is most excited about finding a worthy sparring opponent.

Daniel laughs, “He’s small, but I’m his kicking bag. He thinks I’m indestructible.”

Want help overcoming your health and fitness barriers?

Most people know that regular movement, eating well, sleep, and stress management are important for looking and feeling better. Yet they need help applying that knowledge in the context of their busy, sometimes stressful lives.

Over the past 15 years, we’ve used the Precision Nutrition Coaching method to help over 100,000 clients lose fat, get stronger, and improve their health… for the long-term… no matter what challenges they’re dealing with.

It’s also why we work with health, fitness, and wellness professionals (through our Level 1 and Level 2 Certification programs) to teach them how to coach their own clients through the same challenges.

Interested in Precision Nutrition Coaching? Join the presale list; you’ll save up to 54% and secure a spot 24 hours early.

We’ll be opening up spots in our next Precision Nutrition Coaching on Wednesday, January 9th, 2019.

If you’re interested in coaching and want to find out more, I’d encourage you to join our presale list below. Being on the list gives you two special advantages.

You’ll pay less than everyone else. At Precision Nutrition we like to reward the most interested and motivated people because they always make the best clients. Join the presale list and you’ll save up to 54% off the general public price, which is the lowest price we’ve ever offered.

You’re more likely to get a spot. To give clients the personal care and attention they deserve, we only open up the program twice a year. Last time we opened registration, we sold out within minutes. By joining the presale list you’ll get the opportunity to register 24 hours before everyone else, increasing your chances of getting in.

If you’re ready to change your body, and your life, with help from the world’s best coaches, this is your chance.

[Note: If your health and fitness are already sorted out, but you’re interested in helping others, check out our Precision Nutrition Level 1 Certification program].

The post Daniel Hayes: Making peace with the long game. appeared first on Precision Nutrition.

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mayineverlosethewonder · 6 years

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Crazy love

Hellooooo think I have so much to update that I don’t know where to start, so let me just section it and upload slowly HAHAHA Been talking about the hair alot and yes wow. So, it happened overnight, there was a sudden hole, I panicked and went abit cray cray but I rebooted after 3 days and was pretty much okay with it, sharing about it with others.

2 weeks later, I went to conference and was actually serving on day 2 with the kids, so I was away from the main conference and was at the tentage with the kids. Suddenly, everyone was texting me ‘omg, are you here?’, ‘did you hear that?’ and I’m like ‘I’m at the kids’ area, what’s up?’ AND HERE’S THE CRAZY INSANE PART. What actually happened in the main conference was that Dennis actually said that he has words for a young girl that had sudden hair loss and God just wanna say that He loves you, you are beautiful in His eyes and that He will bring about supernatural healing. Seeing those texts from my friends got me like (’: and I was tearing slightly in the kids’ tentage cause that moment just felt so real and I felt so loved even though I wasn’t in the tent. I was so reminded that though I am serving, though I may be doing something else but God, the loving God, haven’t forgotten me?!

Went to the hospital yesterday and yup, it was alopecia areata and managed to get some injections into the scalp. The pain was quite bearable and am currently using weird shampoo and lotion to the scalp and have to get back next month for injections again. I won’t say my hair grew overnight because of God but I’m glad to say I did receive supernatural healing in the heart - am able to really really say I’m very fine with it and I’m secured in His love.

I thought through that case, God really amazed me and I’m damn in awe of His love? BUT AHAHAH THERE’S MORE TO COME. After conference, went to prayer room and wew God is super real and I really got the chills. Heard so much from God from the live worship there and did prayer with some prayer ministers and intercessors? Had certain revelations through the intercessors and wow it was damn out of the world?!?!

Intercessor: Does the number 9 means anything to you? Me: My birthday? Intercessor: January? and he proceeded to say the year too!!! Intercessor: Are you like an only child? Did you happen to ask your mum for sibling before? Intercessor: Are you from NP? Me: ?!?!?!?!?!?!?!??! (in my mind I’m just like simi lai eh!?!? siao eh) Intercessor: God is showing all these intricate details to let you know that He is there with you and He knows you

Of course there were stuff he prophesized like <Malachi 4:6> and <Isiash 43:19> but omg I was just really taken aback by everything. Like how real can God get?!?! I was so overwhelmed by God’s love!?!!? Honestly am just so thankful. Thank You for being so real?!?! Went into this season and conference being all ‘I want to experience a supernatural kind of encounter with God? Something I never experience before?’ and indeed wow God has gone beyond that. All these made me look back at the very start of me receiving Him till now, so much instances where He poured out His love and show me who He truly is and who I truly am, His child. Just so (’: and till 40years, 50 years, till the day I die, may I never lose the wonder and still remembers Your love.

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spacesaved · 6 years

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for the most part, my portrayal will follow the canon of star trek: alternate original series. however, here are some things i’ve added to my version of jim.

trigger warnings: abuse, starvation, murder, death, ptsd, traumatic mutism, bipolar disorder, & eating disorder.

with time & support, his symptoms have nearly disappeared, but he will occasionally have periods of ptsd related distress, specifically in the form of nightmares & anxiety, even in adulthood.

she is very affectionate & serves as an emotional support animal for jim as well as an unofficial therapy cat for most of the bridge crew, as those are the crewmembers closest to jim.

7. follow these links for romance & sex headcanons.

#《 ★ 》 about jim #《 ★ 》 headcanon

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araneaes-order · 6 years

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Angels We Have Heard Ch. 5

Last Herald-Mage Fanfic

Follow up to In the Bleak Mid-winter my “fix-it” rewrite of the canon ending. (’Cause, C’MON!!!) This is several months later, because no way these two aren’t gonna meet up again.

Word Count: ~4000

Rating: Mature for themes of suicide and substance abuse and stuff, I don’t know, I try to err on the side of caution, I think it’s fairly fluffy really

Tags: Canon mm, ^attempted suicide, ^substance abuse, comfort, mourning, singing

On AO3.

Chapter Synopsis: More singing. Stefen has not forgiven Van for saying he didn’t like music.

The Bard fell asleep long before Van did and he was glad. It seemed the only peaceful moments he could hope for with the young man would be when he was asleep; he was so damned prickly he kept Van on tenterhooks every second otherwise, never knowing when he’d make a misstep and get his back up, or worse, send him running.

Asleep, he curled against him, trusting as a child, still snuffling a little after all that crying.

Vanyel ran his hands through the Bard’s hair, gently combing it out. It was much longer than when they’d parted, which wasn’t a bad look for him, though the weight pulled out some of the curl, but it was still as soft, still as sweetly scented when he nuzzled against him.

He exhaled deeply and looked at the candles. Tylendel’s had extinguished itself long before and stood tall and cool and dark—an omen if ever there was one, though he couldn’t say of what, exactly—the others were almost melted down. They weren’t made to burn long; letting go was the point.

He wondered guiltily what he was supposed to do. He couldn’t stay. He honestly wasn’t well enough yet, for one thing, but even once he was, he had duties, responsibilities he’d taken on, time and again, when he’d chosen life over the easier road of following his first love.

And this? This wasn’t a place to stay, not for the Bard, any more than it was for him, but he had no doubt what the answer would be if he suggested the Bard come with him to Haven. He couldn’t blame him for not wanting to be owned again.

He shifted a little, shimmying his shoulders to fit against the wall more easily, and the Bard reflexively squeezed him, as though even in his sleep he was afraid Van was trying to leave. He squeezed back and kissed the young man’s temple, wishing Yfandes had been awake to talk to.

That one dark candle beckoned for his attention though. He hadn’t had a dream about Tylendel since he and the Bard had brought down the mountains on the dark mage and his army. Or rather, since he’d woken up after fucking the Bard in the dark mage’s castle, and realized they were lifebonded, just before they brought down the mountains.

Gods, Lendel, what must you think of me now? he wondered, not for the first time.

And what would he think of the Bard?

But—

With his sense of justice, his sense of compassion—even for the standoffish little brat Vanyel had been when they’d met—he suspected he’d have liked him. Maybe not liked him enough to approve of this, but he thought he’d have appreciated his strength, and the compassion the Bard showed, however unwillingly, however he’d deny he felt any such thing, for the people around him who weren’t really any worse off than he was.

He’d have appreciated the Bard’s hardness, his cleverness, his wit. He was quick, of mind and mouth. And his hands on even so poor as the instruments he had access to here—Van wished he could see him with the real thing. Any of the ones he had back in his room at the palace would have put that gittern, and Valdir’s tired lute, to shame.

Tylendel might not have had any particular love for music, aside from Van’s pre-Gift efforts, but he would have had to appreciate how good the Bard was with his hands.

Vanyel groaned, but it was more than half-laugh. He swore he could almost hear Lendel’s echoing amusement.

The Bard stirred in his arms and yawned. “You’re thinking too loud,” he grumbled.

“I’m sorry,” Vanyel said, before he could stop himself, but the Bard had already fallen back asleep, or perhaps hadn’t ever been fully awake.

Vanyel closed his eyes.

The Bard was already off him when he woke—though he had his wrist in an iron grip and hadn’t let him go far. He was a dangerous man to sleep so close with; he probably should have warned him, he thought, wincing as he released his arm.

The Bard didn’t say anything, or even look at him, just walking across the small shack and letting himself out for a moment, before returning, still not looking at him.

Van’s body ached as he sat himself up and ran his hands through his hair. The Bard had kept him warm enough at least but he’d pay for a night spent in such an uncomfortable bed when he was still wasn’t up to his fighting form.

Taking the hint, he excused himself from the shack for his morning ablutions, glad he was only limping a little bit of stiffness away yet as he came back in.

The Bard was packing up Valdir’s lute, and had already stowed his own gittern, when he returned. He handed his case back to him and shouldered his own.

He raised his chin stubbornly and Van cocked his head.

“Have breakfast with me.”

“I—”

“You’re leaving, yeah? You have to, I understand. I’m alive, you have a life—” He frowned. “—and need a damned sight more rest before you should be up and riding around, anyway. This isn’t your place. Have breakfast with me before you go.”

He hadn’t actually required any convincing. He nodded. “Gladly.”

The Bard blinked and then seemed to search his face in the light coming in from the open door before nodding back.

And then smiling and shaking his head. “And you left all your money with that snooty horse of yours, so I guess the meal’s on me.” His voice was rueful, but he didn’t seem upset, or Van would have pointed out that he’d fed himself often enough without his help.

The Bard spotted the children before Van did, and called them over with a wave and a grin, his door just closed behind them. Suddenly surrounded, to Van it seemed the whole mob of them, eight—no, nine— could have been siblings, for all the different colors of hair and eyes and skin. Seeing the Bard squatting to chatter quietly back and pass out coppers, subtle, palm-to-palm without ever seeing daylight, Van realized he was one of them too, a part of that kinship.

He felt a tugging at one of his legs and looked down to find Stenna there, dirty hand still fisted in his hose, but smiling shyly up at him. She bit her lip and gave a little wave and he smiled and lightly tousled her hair.

“See!” she said to a little girl next to her and suddenly none of the children were pressed as close to him—except Stenna.

Clearly she hadn’t been able to keep his secret, and clearly the news that he was a Herald made them as cautious as it had made her brother the day before. The king’s man, he’d called him, and even the children in this part of town knew to be wary around one of the king’s men, even if he was in with their good friend, ‘Stef.’

“What’s this?” the Bard asked, seeming genuinely confused, looking around the solemn faces that surrounded him.

They spoke too softly for Van to hear exactly what was said, but he did clearly make out the word Herald.

Stefen looked at him, for one moment entirely part of that crowd, considering, suspicious. Then he smiled and shook his head. “You’re worried about him?” he said, turning back to his little court. “Nah, he’s one of the good ones. You think I’d’ve had him in my place overnight, else?”

Stenna nodded at her friends and hugged his leg, though he suspected her faith had more to do with a budding romanticism and the Bard’s overly flattering song.

The rest of the children, including the girl’s brother, kept their distance, moving closer to the Bard for quick, hushed conversations in cant that was suddenly so thick it hardly sounded like the common tongue.

Stenna tugged at his leg again. “Thank you for the apple,” she said, and he understood her next tug to be a sign that she wanted him to come closer, so he crouched so she could lean in and press her lips against his ear. “And the pennies,” she added—and then she kissed his cheek and scampered away to join the rest of the children, turning a gloating look on one of the other little girls as she pushed at her shoulder.

And he—he just crouched there. He’d thought the Bard looked like a prince once, far away, surrounded by ice and snow. The prince of a singular kingdom: the brigand child he’d defended from Van’s unthinking rage, but this was the young man’s kingdom here, these little ones who had nothing else and no one else to count on.

In Valdemar itself, with wild children who didn’t trust Heralds, the sworn defenders of their kingdom, the Bard had a following of trust and support that should have made King Treven jealous. In a kingdom that had failed to protect him, he was doing his best to protect them, and it was a burden that should never have fallen to him.

Van rubbed at his chest as he stood, waiting for the Bard to finish. He understood why the priestess had been so eager to speak to him about the children. He could be a pied piper—they trusted him, and they’d follow him if he said they should start taking lessons in the temple. They’d even trust a Herald, grudgingly, if he said it was okay.

How could you have thought to leave them like that? he wanted to ask, when the Bard was finished and the little ones had scattered or been shooed away, but he knew better.

The Bard was more relaxed for that contact, if obviously also significantly poorer. There was a light to what Van could feel through their bond as he followed him through the streets, back across the river.

He balked when he finally realized where he was being led. It was called the Dawn’s Eyes Tavern, it was the best in town, and Herald-Mage Vanyel had eaten there on more than a few occasions as he’d passed along the main road.

“Wait!” he hissed, trying to catch the Bard before he could dart through the door.

He looked back and him and paused, raising a brow. “What? Afraid to be seen in public with me?”

“Afraid to be seen in public at all. I’ve been here before.”

The Bard shrugged. “Like that?” The nod of his chin encompassed the whole of Van’s disguise, as well as the raggedness that was currently no part of the disguise at all.

“No. That’s my point.”

The Bard rolled his eyes. “No one will recognize you, m’lord. Trust me. No one sees any more than they want to and why would anyone this side of the river want to see the great Herald-Mage in you? Just—” He grabbed the brim of Vanyel’s hat and tugged it down a bit. “—follow me.” With a gamine grin he disappeared into the tavern.

At least in the company of the Bard he might be less noticeable, he hoped, as he hurried after him.

Valdir was more than worse for wear. He could have slunk by closer to the river, but in a tavern situated on the high street, on the main road itself—no, this was no place for him, even trailing in his flashier companion’s wake.

He shuffled his feet even in his hurry and his fingers twisted nervously at the edges of his cloak, as though it could ever have hidden him. He almost ran into the Bard; his hat was so low and his gaze so down-cast he hadn’t noticed the other man had stopped.

“Brusi!”

“Stefen! My boy! And…you’ve brought a…friend…” The innkeeper, who’d several times greeted Vanyel at least as eagerly as he’d started to greet the Bard, trailed off as he caught sight of Valdir in his shadow. “Ah—and you are?” He held out a hand, a true publican, not quick to run off a customer, or at least the guest of one, though he didn’t see how the Bard could possibly have enough coin left after passing them out to the children.

“Va—Valdir, sir.” He pitched his voice a little higher and put a bit of quiver in it. He caught the Bard’s amused grin and he quickly and weakly clasped the tavernkeeper’s arm.

“A meal for a song,” the Bard said, getting straight to the point. He gestured at Valdir. “Two meals for a duet.”

“He’s a singer?” he sounded surprised, though Van wasn’t hiding his gittern case. “Is he as good as you?”

“Well, sir—”

The Bard scoffed noisily. “Not many are,” he said, nothing in his tone to say he was joking. “But he’s alright. To be truthful, I’d appreciate the opportunity to get him on stage with me. I promise, you’ve never met such a shy minstrel.” He grinned wider. “But he’s a bit light in the pocket today, and his stomach’s been howling at me for blocks, so I think he’ll be convinced, for some of your Arnie’s best.”

The tavernkeeper put his hands on his hips. “Well, Arnie’s best is worth more than one song, I’m sure you’d agree.”

“That I would. My friend has to go I’m afraid, don’t think I can keep him for more than a song or two—but feed us both and you’ll have me for the day. The night too, for supper and a few coins after.”

The tavernkeeper laughed and clapped the Bard’s shoulder. “And a bargain at that. You sell yourself too cheaply, my boy.” Van appreciated that the man seemed to mean it, and his affection for the Bard seemed genuine. Herald Vanyel wouldn’t feel it amiss to return when he was through this way again.

But first Minstrel Valdir had to get himself out.

They ate on the balcony that ringed the upper floor, and had it mostly to themselves at this time of day. Van had to admit, if only to himself, that he felt a little slighted. Herald Vanyel had never had reason to complain of the fare at the Dawn’s Eyes, but he’d clearly never been served Arnie’s best.

“Good, yeah?” the Bard asked, watching him with sparkling eyes as he finished his second pie.

He nodded around that last mouthful, thinking the king’s table should be so blessed, and chased it with a long swallow of good ale—at least they hadn’t been ‘cheating’ him on the ale.

“What’s this about a duet, though?” he asked quietly. The tavernkeeper had been hovering, first cheerfully bandying with the Bard and then cleaning up a spill that had been missed the night before, but he’d finally taken himself off to the first floor.

“Sing for your supper. It’s what us poor, minstrel types do, isn’t it? I heard you last night, and the kids told me you’d set out that hat on a corner all yesterday, waiting for me.” He waved a hand. “You’ll do fine.”

Van sat back in his chair, contemplating the Bard’s—unreasonably handsome—face. It was very different from how he’d been the day before and he couldn’t be sorry for that. “Is this punishment? For telling you I didn’t like music?”

The Bard’s lips twitched. “Think I’d be that petty?” He leaned forward a bit, an exaggerated crouch to get a better view under Van’s hat. “Well—you’re the mind-reader.”

And somehow, because of that cheeky, grinning Bard, Valdir soon found himself seated on a stage that Herald Vanyel had several times sat opposite, breaking all of his long-held rules for going undercover.

He gave the other man another annoyed look as he lowered himself onto the other stool that had been set up there for them, and the unrepentant grin that came in response was no more of a deterrent than any of the others had been. He’d do more than pretend to glower for the sake of a smile that joyful and genuine.

He felt Yfandes’ amusement and Sent her the mental equivalent of a rude gesture, but there wasn’t any heat behind it and she’d know that too.

There still weren’t too many patrons so early in the day but Van knew the tavernkeeper was more interested in hooking in the Bard for the long term than in what he and Valdir could do together, and he couldn’t blame him for that. Van knew, as the tavernkeeper couldn’t, that he was a good musician, and he was Gifted, suitable for the bardic collegium if he hadn’t also been a potential Herald-Mage, but Stefen was something else entirely. If Van hadn’t been in his persona he suspected he wouldn’t be so conflicted about this.

They took out their instruments and spent a moment tuning them, Van hiding behind his cloak and hat, the Bard with a bright, radiant grin and even his distinctive auburn hair pulled back in a hasty braid, a brilliant, stunning young man with nothing to hide.

This was the Bard’s show, so he let him choose the song, but he knew he was in for trouble when the young man tossed him another sly, side-eyed smile.

He should have expected it, Bards on the whole not being known for reticence or, well, mercy.

Still, it was a bitter challenge of a song the Bard started out with. It had come from the east by way of Hardorn, some even said by way of Iftel, so the fingering wasn’t even traditionally Valdemaran, and the pace would have driven Vanyel to madness trying to keep up—if he hadn’t spent a good month utterly devoted to working it out when he’d first heard it a few years before.

Valdir was sorry, scruffy, and scrawny, and down on his luck as all get out, but Vanyel knew how to make the tired old lute sing like the fine lady she’d once been. He cocked his head at the Bard, who shrugged, never dropping a note, and led off on the singing. That part had been added later, a more traditional Valdemaran arrangement, though inspired by the music it was laid over. Vanyel had learned it directly from the Bard who’d composed it, and joined on the chorus before taking over the second verse.

He’d only planned to stay for a song, maybe two.

They’d just finished the eighth when the tavernkeeper popped up, eyes aglow, two large tankards of ale held out.

“To wet your whistles, my lads,” he said, beaming. The tavern had filled up nicely since they’d started, though it was still fairly early in the day. A harried looking tavern girl was scurrying back and forth between the tables. Vanyel hadn’t even noticed any of that happening.

He drank the ale gratefully. He was breathless, exhilarated, the Bard was tireless, and he hadn’t realized how dry his throat had gotten until he had his first sip of the cooling ale.

He looked at the Bard, wishing again that he could—

The younger man shook his head, still smiling, and there wasn’t much darkness coming from his side of the lifebond. “I know,” he said. “But oi, c’mere a sec.”

Unthinking, Van slid off his stool and took a step towards the Bard, caught up in the magic of the music, voices and instruments and the appreciation of an audience he hadn’t been fully aware of. He should have expected it, he should have, when the Bard reached up and caught the back of his head, pulling him down for an already breathless kiss.

He tasted like ale, and smelled like cinnamon and green things, wild and young. Strands of his hair had pulled free from his braid and tickled Van’s face. Or maybe that was Van’s hair, falling forward as he leaned down to meet those soft, clever lips.

The Bard only held him there for a moment, and Van pulled away the instant he felt himself released, not playing at being flustered at so public a display.

The Bard laughed and a few in the audience echoed it, some perhaps not understanding how serious it had been. Bards after all, everyone knew how Bards were.

And for a moment Van just stood, flummoxed, because it was the first time they’d kissed in broad daylight, in a well-lit space. The first time he’d pulled away and been able to clearly see that face, hazel eyes, glowing but slumberous, the dimple bracketing a generous mouth that was stretched in a wicked grin. He had freckles, not all over freckles, just a few, that you mostly didn’t notice until you were right next to him: on his jaw, by his mouth, on his cheek, by his left eye… Van wanted to stay and kiss each one—

He staggered back, before he could do anything more foolish than he already had.

The Bard gestured broadly to him. “A round of applause for my friend! I’m afraid he has to leave us, but if you’ve a mind to continue indulging in my poor playing I—” The words were drowned out by the cheering and Valdir glanced timidly, nervously, at their audience. Even as close as he was he couldn’t hear the Bard over them and he would have liked to, for as long as he could.

Instead he bobbed his head in parting, to them and to him, and grabbed his lute’s case and scampered off the stage.

At the far end of the room, by the door, not daring to look back towards the stage, though intensely aware of it, he set his case down and quickly tucked his lute away, so startled when the tavernkeeper spoke at his back that he yelped. The boy would be his death one way or another, if he let himself be so distracted.

“You’re sure you must—ah, sorry lad. Easy. But you’re sure you must be heading on? If it’s money…”

Valdir forced a laugh and swung his lute up across his back. “No, it’s not just—I have an… appointment? Business south, that is. I shouldn’t—no, I shouldn’t delay any longer.”

He could see from a quick, darting glance at the tavernkeeper’s knowing expression that he thought Valdir was on the run from something, rather than running towards. Since that was absolutely what he’d been trying to imply it was a relief.

“Aye, then. Godsspeed on your ‘business.’ For the road.”

He held out a wrapped parcel. Vanyel could smell the spices, meat, cheese, and bread, wafting from it. He looked between the tavernkeeper and his offering, confused. “Sir, you’ve already—it was a…very good meal, as you promised?” he stammered.

The tavernkeeper smiled kindly. “I’ll give your regards to Arnie, then. But you played considerable more than your song, and brought me a good bit of custom for it. Fair’s fair, lad. Go on.”

Valdir took the bundle and tucked it against his chest, gratefully. “Thank you, sir!”

The other man waved his words away. “Just remember me if you come back through, aye? My stage is always open for a talented player like yourself. When your business is over.”

“I will, sir! My vow, I will!” And he would remember him, and he would be back, even if he never played that stage again.

He couldn’t keep himself from one last look at it though. The Bard was still taking a break—well deserved, the way he’d played, gods! He sat on his stool, one leg bent and caught on a lower rung of it, one stretched out in front of him on the floor, master of the world from up there. He took another sip from his tankard and laughed at something someone in the audience called up at him, tossing back an answer with a nod of his chin and a grin.

Van ducked out before he could be caught staring.

Continued in Chapter 6

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#LHM #the last herald-mage #Vanyel Ashkevron #Stefen #heralds of valdemar #my writing #fanfic

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