#if it came down to it I’d honestly let myself freeze to death instead of her

[psychoticwillgraham]

now all the weather channels/youtubers aren’t even giving a snowfall accumulation number anymore bc of the wind blows just slightly different, then it’ll push it up from STL and we’ll get close to a foot of snow. oh and now we’re getting A LOT of ice so. wonderful :))

#just a few days ago they were saying that this storm would be a concern but not like the one in two weeks #which would be the absolute worst case scenario which looks very likely it’ll happen #like a blizzard AND a deep deep freeze #but now this one is probably gonna end up getting us a blizzard warning bc of the 50mph+ winds 😬 #and after the storm next week we get a system EVERY 2-3 DAYS UNTIL FEBRUARY #that’ll dump 5 inches ish IN EACH STORM #so two feet of snow is NOT out of the question rn #Chloe already survived the great Texas deep freeze of 2021 #but that wasn’t snow #so this will be her first major snowstorm and I’ll have to do everything i can #to keep her warm #if it came down to it I’d honestly let myself freeze to death instead of her

[sunmoonandeddie]

‘cause you are, you are

pairing: lumberjack!bucky barnes x reader

word count: 8,436

summary: Bucky’s found someone out on his front lawn during a snowstorm.  Well, Alpine found her.  If only he knew what he was getting into.

warnings: Bad words!  Violence!  Mention of kidnapping!  Mention of military violence/injury!  Mention of suicidal thoughts!

a/n:  So the song I listened to that kinda really inspired this is ‘Get You the Moon’ by Kina.  Also, this was commissioned by @buckysbunny​ and I really hope you love it, babe!

“Come on, Al,” Bucky said as he led his dog up the front steps of his cabin, carrying all the grocery bags inside.  He had a cigarette between his teeth, keeping it steady as he unlocked the door and let the gorgeous samoyed inside.  “Atta girl.”

The cabin was just as he left it three hours ago when he left to go grocery shopping.  As it should.

And Alpine was already standing at her bowl, wagging her tail.  She knew what time it was.

“You hungry, baby girl?” He asked with a grin as he grabbed the beef he’d been thawing in the sink and opened it up.  “Today’s a beef day.  We both know how much you love cows, yeah?”  He put a cup of beef in her bowl, powdering in her supplements.  “The best girl deserves the best food, yeah?” He asked as he cracked two eggs on top of it, before setting it on the ground.  Bucky couldn’t help but grin at the way that Alpine sat there in front of the bowl, waiting for the go ahead as her tail wagged aggressively.  “Eat.  Good girl.”

Kicking off his boots, he started up a fire in the fireplace.  The clouds were rolling in, the sun already setting.  He’d lived on the mountain long enough to know when the first real snow of the season was setting in.  They’d already had flurries, sure, but…  The first real snow was the first one that had everyone locked inside, unable to go anywhere for weeks.  He could smell it on the air.

Thankfully he was all stocked up on wood, so they’d be warm.  He’d already moved up Alpine’s dinner time so it would still be light outside when she needed to go outside to use the bathroom.  And they had more than enough food in the fridge and in the deep freeze to last them the entire winter, if they needed.  They’d be okay.

Honestly, his biggest worry was losing Alpine in the snow.  She was a big floof of white fur.  She always came when he called, but still.  It was the principle of it.

After she went to the bathroom, the two of them curled up on the couch while he ate and they watched whatever DVD he popped in.  He’d probably binge watch the box set of nature documentaries he’d gotten.

They were… relaxing.  After spending a few tours in Afghanistan, he needed relaxing.

It had been ten years, but… some things don’t fade with time.  Some things stick like gummy bears on a car seat in July.

It was past midnight when Alpine raised her head from his lap, a low whine in the back of her throat.  By then, he’d cracked open a beer and been fully ready to fall asleep there.

“Al?  Come on, baby girl, there’s nothing out there,” he said reassuringly.  It was snowing heavily, and he’d estimate there was already about seven inches deep with no sign of stopping.

But Alpine gets off the couch and runs for the door, barking sharply.

“What the hell has gotten into you?” He asked as he watched her.  “Alpine, come.”

For the first time in the four years since he’d gotten her, she didn’t listen.

Instead, she let out another bark as she clawed at the door.

“Al,” he groaned as he forced himself up.  He left the beer on the coffee table before heading to the door.  “There’s nothing out there.  Just snow.  You’re just gonna get cold and get the floors all wet.”

But, alas, he’s a slave to the desires of his puppy.

It’s kinda pathetic, really.  Not that he cared.

He opened up the door to let her out, frigid air blasting him.  The snow crept up onto the porch, and there was so much coming down it looked almost like a curtain.  “See, Al?  Nothing.”

But she ran out into the snow, nudging at what just looked like another pile of fluffy white snow.  She let out a whine, the only parts clearly visible of her being her dark nose and eyes.

And that’s when a head appeared, and his heart stopped.  What the fuck was a woman doing out in the middle of a snow storm?

Despite the fact that he wasn’t wearing shoes and he’d just changed into a fresh pair of sweats, he ran out to where Alpine was still trying to nudge her awake.  The snow was freezing his toes as he reached down and scooped up the girl, woman, whatever, and carried her inside.

“Come on,” he called out to the samoyed, who was following quickly after him, her tail tucked between her legs.  “You’re such a smart puppy,” he cooed as he laid the girl on the couch.  “You knew she was out there and made sure I got to her.  Good puppy.”

From the color of her lips, there was no doubt in his mind that hypothermia was starting to set in.  And from what she was wearing?  Come on.  She didn’t even have shoes on.  Just two pairs of socks.

Fuck.  He’d have to strip her down.  He needed to get her warm, and the clothes she wore weren’t doing anything to help her since they were thin and soaking wet. “You better not kill me when you wake up,” he grumbled as he pulled her clothes off of her, keeping his eyes averted.  She didn’t even have underwear or a bra on.

It wasn’t that he was some kind of creep.  He just felt awkward.  He didn’t know this woman and he wasn’t some kind of life saver.

Bucky was alarmed by the amount of bruises that covered her body, though it looked as though there was a purposeful lack of them on her face.  There were also what looked like fresh scrapes along her hips.

He wrapped her in every blanket he could find after grabbing fresh clothes from the laundry room and redressing her, cocooning her before shoving the couch closer to the fire so that it may warm her easier.  But she still seemed so cold.  He moved to the kitchen, taking a few hot water bottles from the first aid cabinet and warming them up before gently dabbing one at her face, the only part of her still exposed.

Bucky knew that the only thing he could do now was wait for her to wake up.  Pressing two fingers to her neck, he let out a sigh of relief when he felt her pulse.  “You’re not out of the woods yet,” he said as he grabbed his beer and took a swig.  It was going to be a long night.

Alpine was more than happy with the addition of a new person in their home, if not still a little worried.  She climbed up onto the couch and curled up against her, sniffing at her face and giving her a lick before lying her head down beside her.

“She’ll be okay, Al,” Bucky said quietly as he reached out to give her scritches right above her tail.  He wasn’t sure if he believed it, but…  Maybe Alpine would understand and calm down a little.

My first thought when I woke up was that I was warm.  Really warm.

I hadn’t been warm in such a long time.

My eyelids were so heavy, and I had no desire to open them just yet.

What would I find when I woke up?  If I was back in His possession, in his house, I…  I would need to resort to Plan B.

Technically, Plan B had been Plan A a few times, when things had gotten… especially hard.  But He had caught me before I could succeed.

The last thing I could remember was stumbling through the snow.  I’d managed to finally get out after planning it for months.  I waited until He’d gone out for his nightly trip to the bars before pulling on my two pairs of socks and slipping out through the broken basement window.

The broken glass that I had thought would cause me to freeze to death had become my salvation.

I had been going down the mountain, following the road.  But it had started to snow.  I’m not sure how long I had been walking when I could see the path anymore, or when I saw the light.

The first light I had seen in the stifling white.  It had been coming from a window, cutting through the storm like a beacon of hope.

The wave of relief I had felt at the cabin slowly taking shape in front of my very eyes had been euphoric.  I had started to think that if I was going to die, at least I wasn’t going to die in captivity.

But I hadn’t even made it to the porch steps.

Which brought me to where I am now.  Wrapped up in what I was pretty sure was several blankets.  But I could smell… dog?  He didn’t have a dog.  No pets allowed.

He also didn’t have a crackling fireplace, from what I remember of the few times I’d been allowed upstairs.

Yeah.  Definitely no fireplace.

I made sure to stay completely still as I felt two calloused fingertips press against the pulse point in my neck.

“Well, Al, her heart rate has increased…”

So it was definitely a man.

I’d gotten really good at pretending to be asleep over the years.  Like, really, really good.  It wasn’t often that He’d been able to tell that I was awake if I didn’t want him to know.

There was a whimper, and then a rough tongue licked across my face.  The dog.  Which was (hopefully) this ‘Al.’  I didn’t want to deal with more than one man.

The man sighed and walked away.  “You gonna keep watch over her, baby girl?  I gotta go get a shower.”

Did he think the dog was going to answer him?

As soon as I heard his footsteps going up a set of stairs, I took in a deep breath before slowly letting it out.  I needed to get out of there.  Immediately.

I just had to slip out without him hearing me or the dog making a scene.

I slowly opened my eyes, even though it still felt like I had washers glued to my lashes.

And there was the fireplace.  It was so nice and warm…  I hadn’t felt this toasty in years.  The basement was always so frigid, and with the lack of blankets provided to me, I was always at least a little cold.

Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to stay for a little while…

No.  I shook my head as I forced myself to sit up.  I couldn’t stay.  I had to get out and get down the mountain to civilization.

I gasped as I felt the rough tough on my cheek again, turning to see a huge white dog that looked more like a cloud than an animal.  “Shh…”  I had to work to get my arms out of the blankets to pet it, but it was then that I realized I was not in my original clothing underneath all the swaddling.  My heart sank to my stomach as I felt a wave of panic.

Had he touched me?  Was he no better than Him?

I got most of the blankets off and frowned as I looked down at sweatpants and the long sleeved shirt I was wearing.  They were far too big for me, but they’d have to do.

I kept my steps feather light as I looked around the space I had found myself in.  It was a living room, and rather cozy.  Rustic looking.  I could see the kitchen to my left, and a silent debate with myself started over whether or not I’d have time to grab food for myself before running.  From the way my stomach growled, I knew that I’d have to.

I hadn’t eaten since yesterday, since today was not my scheduled day to eat.

The cloud dog followed me to the fridge, its tail wagging as I grabbed what I could reasonably carry.  It took everything within me to not stop and play with her.  I hadn’t seen a dog in so long, especially not one so sweet.  Its tail kept wagging even as it watched me stealing food.

I was reaching for the jar of pickles when I heard the cocking of a gun, and I turned around to see a large, burly man pointing a handgun at me.  The food in my hands dropped to the ground as I threw my hands up, my heart racing.  The jar of pickles shattered, the glass flying all over the floor.  “I-I’m sorry!  I’m sorry!” I gushed, feeling sweaty under the pressure of the barrel being pointed at me.  “I don’t know where I am.  I j-just woke up and I’m s-so hungry.”

Bucky’s heart pounded as he got out of the shower, hearing a commotion downstairs.

His instincts took over, and he didn’t have time to even think things through before pulling on a pair of briefs and grabbing his handgun from his bedside table before slipping down the stairs.

He had the gun in both hands as he peeked around the corner, seeing a girl digging through his fridge.  It was the cocking of the gun that alerted her to his presence, and she whirled around.

She was pretty, he could acknowledge that much.

It was when she was rambling that suddenly he remembered.  The girl in the snow.  But he’d been certain that she wouldn’t wake up for at least a few more hours.

His startling blue eyes stayed locked on her as he flipped the safety back on.  But he still kept it raised.  “Who are you?” He demanded, his voice gruff, deep.

She gave her name, and he frowned.  Just a first name?  No last?

“Where did you come from?”

“U-Up the mountain,” she said quietly, a few tears rolling down her pretty cheeks.  “Please, I…  I mean no h-harm.  Please.  I’ll go.  I swear.”

He shook his head, slowly lowering the gun.  It wasn’t like she was much of a threat.  She clearly had no idea what she was doing.  “Don’t be stupid.  You already almost froze to death once out in the storm.  Leaving would just mean that you wasted my efforts to save your life.”

“Thank you,” she said stiffly, still not moving from where she was.  It sounded more like a question than a statement.

She was skinny.  Scary skinny.  Of course, he’d seen that when he’d undressed her, but it was even more alarming seeing her in his clothes, seeing how they draped from her frail, bird-like shoulders.

He nodded to the mess around her.  “Stay still.  I don’t want you cutting your feet on the glass.”  Luckily she had the sense to listen as he swept up the glass and pickles, picking up everything around her before mopping.

He didn’t like being close to her, and she clearly didn’t like being close to him either.  Good.  It meant they would be less likely to step on each other’s toes.

Bucky was already very aware that she was going to have to stay until the snow let up enough for her to leave.

“I’m assuming you’re hungry?” He said as he put the mop away.  “You can have food.  I’m not going to starve you after rescuing you.”

She nodded, her stomach grumbling.  “Yes.  Hungry…”

Pointing to the fridge, he leaned back against the kitchen island.  “You can get whatever you want.”  He watched curiously as she reached into the door and grabbed the container of cottage cheese.  “Did you want some warm food?”

“This is fine.”

“You sure?”

“Mhm.”

She was weird.  But he couldn’t really judge considering the fact that he had no idea who she was or where she had come from.

Maybe she was a Russian spy or something.

No, that’s stupid, he reminded himself.  Your military days are over.  No one is looking for you anymore.

He showed her to one of the guest rooms once she finished eating the entire container of cottage cheese, eyeing her in case she vomited.  He had no idea how the hell she did that.  He liked cottage cheese as much as the next person, but still.

“Um…  There’s a shower through there.  And I can… get you some more clothes and stuff,” he said softly.  He stayed far away, out of her reach, and he noticed her doing the same.

She nodded, chewing on her lower lip as she looked around.  “Okay.  Thank you.”

“I’ll let you… get to it then,” he said awkwardly.  A frown settled across his face as he watched Alpine jump up onto the bed as the girl looked into the bathroom.  “Traitor.”

“Can you show me how the shower works?” She asked, poking her head back out.  “And…  What are the… shower rules here?”

A wave of confusion spread over him.  Shower rules?  “Uh…  Just… let me know if you’re gonna shower soon so I know not to use all the hot water?”

“That’s it?”

“Uh… yeah.”

“Oh.  Okay.”  She glanced over at Alpine, who was lying on her bed.  “Are you…  Are you showering soon?”

Bucky’s head tilted to the side, his brows furrowed.  His dark hair was still wet, and he was still in his briefs.

The girl nodded, letting out a weak laugh as her face flushed.  “Right.  Sorry.”  She pointed to the bathroom.  “The… shower?”

“Right!”  He slipped past her into the bathroom, making sure he didn’t touch her, before showing her how to work the knob and change the temperature.  “There we go…  Uh…  Have a good shower.  And I’m James… by the way…”  He let out a huff of air as he stood there with his hands on his hips.  “Right, um…”  He felt a bit awkward as he left quickly then.

I waited until after James had left to lock the bedroom door, swallowing as I shoved the desk chair under the handle.

There was a low whine, and I turned to see the cloud dog still on the bed.  I had thought it had left with him.  “Hi.  I thought you left.”  I reached out and scratched behind its ear, the fur soft under my fingers.

After taking a few minutes to just pet the puppy, I headed to the bathroom where the shower was still running, the mirror fogged up.

It had been so long since I’d had a hot shower.

After locking the bathroom door, I stripped off the clothes I’d been given and folded them nicely, laying them on the counter.  I could see the scrapes along my hips and cursed, wiping off the mirror so I could attempt to see them better.  I was covered in bruises, and the scrapes were clearly fresh.

But I had no idea what James thought of them or where he thought I got them.  Fuck.

I’d have to come up with some kind of excuse unless I was ready to tell him just where I’d come from.

Which just felt like it’d be so much work.  I wasn’t ready for that yet.

I didn’t come out of my room for the rest of the night.  It was the first time I’d ever been truly alone in years.

Even when He was gone, I was never truly alone.  Not when cameras captured every square inch of the basement.

When I crawled into bed, the cloud dog curled up against me and rested its head on my back.

I slept better than I had in years.  Even if I did end up vomiting up the cottage cheese.

Bucky was still confused by the girl three weeks later.  The snow hadn’t let up, which he was kinda upset about because she’d eaten one of the two containers of cottage cheese her first night.

He liked his cottage cheese.  And she ate it.

Which, okay.  He had been able to tell she was hungry and she clearly needed the food more than he did, but still.  She couldn’t have chosen something else?

Now they were having to ration the cottage cheese.  They had about half a cup left and they were both waiting for the other one to finish it off.

He was about ready to just tell her to take it.

He also didn’t understand how she’d stolen his dog from him.  Alpine had transferred her love and loyalty over to the strange girl within thirty seconds of meeting her, and it appeared that there would be no changing that anytime soon.  The dog was always at her side and wouldn’t even go outside to use the bathroom unless she sat on the porch, bundled in one of Bucky’s coats and wrapped in a blanket, and watched her.  Al didn’t even sleep with Bucky anymore.  She slept with the girl, her head on her back as if she was ensuring that she was still breathing.

On one hand, it was absolutely precious.

On the other, Bucky had lost his cuddle buddy.

But they gave each other a wide berth.  They never touched, which he was grateful for.  He didn’t… like touch.  And he got the implication that she didn’t either.

“You know, you living here kinda reminds me of the 2020 pandemic,” he said nonchalantly as they sat in the living room watching tv.  He was on the recliner, and she was curled up on the couch with Alpine in her lap.

Her head tilted to the side as she tore her attention from the movie playing on the tv.  “The what?”

Bucky blinked.  And then he blinked again.  “The…  The 2020 pandemic?  The pandemic three years ago?” He said slowly, his brows furrowed.  “Covid-19?  Everyone had to wear masks?  America was literally a cesspool of selfish assholes who were so stupid they believed Trump?”

“Trump…  Isn’t he that celebrity show host?  He was on Home Alone?  The Lost in New York one?” She asked.

He was going crazy.  He was sure of it.

“What?” She asked, sitting up a little straighter as she crossed her legs applesauce style, causing Alpine to whine before settling back down in her lap.  “Did I say something wrong?”

Bucky leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees.  “Donald Trump became president in the 2016 election.  Then Biden won in 2020.”

Her eyes were wide, her cheeks flushed.  “Oh.”

“How did you not know?” He asked.

She shrugged, wrapping her arms around Alpine.  “I… haven’t watched the news… in a while…”

The man could understand that, but the whole ‘not watched the news’ in a bit really only worked when it came to things like… like a celebrity doing something stupid or a law being passed.  Two whole presidential elections?  That was…  That was Amish levels of ignorance.  Even if she didn’t watch tv, there were billboards and signs and merchandise like those stupid Make America Great Again hats.

As if America had ever been great.  And he had a double right to say that, since he’d been a stupid eighteen year old kid that the military had preyed on, getting him to join up and head overseas when America had no reason to be there.

He’d lost his arm because of it.

“How long has it been since you watched the news?” He questioned, his heart racing.  He had a bad feeling about it.  A really, really bad feeling that settled in his gut.

She buried her face in Alpine’s fur, her shoulders rising and falling as she huffed.

She’d put on some weight since getting there, thankfully.  He’d been making sure she got all her protein and started her on vitamins supplements he had.

“Eleven years…”

He paused, blinking slowly.  “Eleven years?  What the hell do you mean ‘eleven years?’”  He took a moment when he saw the way she flinched away from him.  He’d figured out pretty quick that she couldn’t handle any raising of the voice.  She’d shut down.  “I’m sorry.  I’m sorry.  But…  I still don’t know anything about you except your name.  Not even your last name.  I don’t know where you came from.  I still don’t know how the hell you ended up in my front lawn, half frozen to death.  I…”  He sighed.  “What happened?”

She was quiet for so long that he was sure she wasn’t going to reply.  He started to get ready to stand up, letting out a huff.

“I was thirteen,” I said quietly, my voice barely audible.  Alpine’s fur was so soft in my fingers and against my cheek.  It kept me grounded, kept me tied down to the Earth so I didn’t float away in the cloudy memories that covered the sky in my head.

Bucky was watching me closely, clearly surprised that I’d actually spoken.

My throat felt so dry.  “Um…  It was a few months after my birthday…  And I had just gotten a new phone.  It was… It was one of those sliding phones with a full keyboard?  It had a touch screen, and it was cherry red.”  I couldn’t help but let out a weak laugh as I remembered that stupid phone.  I’d been utterly obsessed with it, like any thirteen year old would be.  “I was in eighth grade and even though most people I went to school with already had an iPhone, that phone was the coolest thing ever.”

He was watching me in a way that was so intense, so focused.  I hadn’t ever had someone look at me like that.  Like he was actually listening.

“And, uh…  I used to walk to the river in the woods by my house,” I said, my voice growing soft again.  “I would go and sit and read on nice days…  I didn’t really have… friends.  I was a bit of a loner, and new.  We’d just moved there that April.”  My heart ached.  I missed that river.  I missed my parents.  More than anything.  “There was a man that I’d see sometimes at the river fishing…”

Bucky’s breath audibly hitched, and I could see his hands gripping his knees tightly.

“I was lonely,” I said, my voice cracking as I clutched onto Alpine that much tighter.  The puppy let out a whine as my eyes water.  “I didn’t have any friends yet.  I was an o-only child…  So, yeah, I’d talk t-to him.  I didn’t think it was wrong.  I f-figured if he was going to do something, he would’ve done it the f-first eighty times I s-saw him.”

“He took you, didn’t he?” He asked quietly, his voice gravelly.

Avoiding his eyes, I gave a short nod.  “Yeah.”

He stood up, his jaw set as he reached for his phone.  “We have to call the police.  If you were being held in a house on this mountain, then that means whoever took you lives close enough for you to have gotten here in a snowstorm.”

“NO!” I said as I scrambled up.  Alpine flopped to the side with a bark as she watched me scramble to knock his cell phone out of his hand.  “No cops!” I breathed out, eyes feral.

“Okay,” he said quietly, his voice soothing as he held up his hands in surrender.  “Okay.  No cops.  I won’t call the cops…”

I could see the confusion on his face, but a wave of relief washed over me as he agreed to not call the cops without asking too many questions.  I’d already shared so much.

“Do you want to watch a movie?” He asked, casually switching the subject as he sat back down.  He didn’t even grab his phone.

“Yeah.  Yeah, that sounds good,” I said as I took my seat again, swallowing thickly.  “Can we watch that one you were telling me about?” I asked as Alpine licked my face before settling in my lap once again.  “The…  The one about the Day of the Dead?”

An easy smile spread across his lips.  “Coco?  Yeah.  We can watch whatever you want.”

There was a shift in the air after she told Bucky about where she’d come from.  They still kept a generally wide berth, but… they were closer.  He was definitely in no hurry for her to leave.  Not when he could keep her safe in his cabin.

He felt a wave of protectiveness every time he thought of her.  He had someone to take care of now.  Other than Alpine and Steve when they were kids, he’d never had that.  Even Rebecca had been so independent growing up.

He liked having someone to protect, to take care of.  He liked checking in on her when he woke up in the morning and when he went to bed.

Which he’d started doing once she’d stopped locking her door at night.

Bucky liked preparing her breakfast and coffee for her in the morning, slowly helping her increase her food intake without hurting her tummy.  He liked checking in on her and making her laugh with his stupid jokes.

He liked… her.  She was easily the prettiest gal he’d seen, even if it was unassuming at first.

But he wasn’t a creep like the man who took her, whoever he was.  He wasn’t going to pressure her into being with him just because he was providing her shelter and food.

He wouldn’t use her like that.

And besides, it wasn’t as though she would want him.  She had just turned twenty-four that year, and he was forty-one.  There was a good seventeen year age gap, and it felt even wider once he’d realized that her education had effectively stopped at thirteen years old.

Of course, he’d started to remedy that.  He’d found some kind of online learning platform that he’d remembered from the pandemic.  Parents had started the free service in order to make sure that kids were still getting their education as schools shut down and they were pushed into Zoom classes in the autumn of 2020, after America failed and sent them back to school.

She was a lot smarter than she realized, and he made sure to tell her as often as possible.

They had a camaraderie that he hadn’t ever expected to find after he’d pushed Steve away.

Steve had been lucky.  He’d been good enough at drawing that he’d gotten a full ride to art school.  He didn’t have to enlist in order to have a future.

It wasn’t that Bucky was bitter about that.  Steve deserved it.  And now Bucky’s job was taking pictures of the mountains he lived on, and he got paid so much that he really only had to work a few months a year.

“You always talk about Steve,” she said softly one night as they ate dinner in the living room, as per their routine.  “Do you still talk to him?”

“Uh…  No,” he said quietly.  “Lately I’ve been thinking about reaching out, though…  I miss him.”

Her head tilted to the side as she looked at him, her spoon halfway to her mouth.  He’d made chicken tortilla soup, since that had apparently become her favorite.  “What happened?  If you don’t mind me asking…”

Bucky smiled weakly down at his own half empty bowl.  “Well…”  His spoon clinked against the side.  “It was hard after I came home… from overseas…  I’d lost my arm…  I wasn’t the same guy I was…”  He took a deep breath.  “I was angry… at everything… and I took it out on him, even when it wasn’t his fault…  And then one day I just packed up and left.  Found my way here.  I bought this place with the money I had and fixed it up…  It was a real dump.  Basically foreclosed.  But I spent an entire summer fixing it.  Had to get it done before the first snow.  And it also got me to figure out how to use my prosthetic.  It’s some… fancy experimental thing.”

There was a flicker of the lights, and then nothing.  It went completely dark.  The heater stopped, the clock on the top of the stove went off.

“Bucky?” She whimpered, the fear evident in her voice.

“Hey, it’s okay.  It’s okay.  I’m here,” he said as he used his phone flashlight to illuminate the situation a little bit.  “I’m gonna find some flashlights, okay?  You stay right there with Alpine.”

She nodded, setting her bowl to the side and wrapping her arms around the puppy.  “Okay…  H-Hurry back.”

Oh, he definitely would.  He didn’t wanna leave his bear cub alone for too long.

He found two flashlights in the basement before coming back.  “Okay, let’s get all the blankets and stuff together,” he said as he handed her one of them.  “It’s gonna get cold real quick without the heating working.”  There was no way he was gonna be able to get out to look at the generator with how heavy the snow was falling.

They piled all the blankets up on his bed before she crawled under the mountain of them, Alpine curling up next to her like always.

She watched as Bucky sat on the edge of the bed, watching the slow rise and fall of his back.  She could practically see the steam coming from his ears from how much he was overthinking.  “You can take your arm off, you know,” she said quietly, sitting up on her elbows.  “I’m…  I’m not gonna think it’s weird.”

Bucky let out a weak laugh.  “You sure, bear cub?” He asked, his voice wavering.  “I don’t want to freak you out…”

“Something that’s a part of you could never be bad,” she said quietly.

His heart stuttered inside his chest.  He didn’t know what to say in reply.  He’d never had someone say something like that.  His hand was shaking as he reached up and undid his prosthetic.  It was a whole thing he went through every night and every morning, since it was attached to his nerves.  He hissed as it finally came off, setting it in the open case on the ground as he rolled his shoulders a few times to get the tension out.

“See?” She said as she watched him, her eyes running over his back muscles and the scars that covered his shoulder.  “There’s nothing bad about you.”

Bucky slowly crawled under the blankets, staying on the other side of the bed.  He didn’t want to make her uncomfortable.

“You gonna stay over there all night?’

He blinked, and then he blinked again, his eyes staring up at the ceiling.  “I…  What?”

She was still sitting up on her elbows, her lower lip caught between her teeth.  Her eyes were flickering between the blankets and him.  “You don’t have to stay over there…  I’m not… gonna break if we cuddle, you know…”

Bucky’s heart stopped inside his chest as his mind went blank.  He suddenly wasn’t thinking anymore about how he might hurt her.  She wanted him.  Or at least… wanted him to cuddle with her.

Which he was more than happy to comply.

I scooted over a little closer to Bucky when I realized he was frozen staring at me.  He seemed to be in shock over the fact that I wanted to cuddle.

“Jamie?” I said softly, my fingers grabbing onto his arm and tugging him closer.  “Please?”

I watched as he swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he nodded.

“I mean…  You don’t have to,” I added quickly, feeling a flash of anxiety.  What if I had imagined everything?  The flirting?  The calling me bear cub?  “Not if…  Not if you don’t want to.”

Maybe my emotional growth was just as stunted as my educational growth.

But then moved closer to the center of the bed, his strong arm wrapping around my waist and pulling me close.  So close that I was lying on top of his chest.  He was so nice and warm.

And so strong.  He wasn’t like one of those guys in Hollywood or the bodybuilders that were all dehydrated in order to look like they had a twenty pack of abs or something.  He was the real kind of strong.

It was sexy as hell.

And it had been so long since I’d had a gentle touch…  Or had someone hold me just for the sake of holding me.

I hadn’t realized just how badly I needed it until Bucky was holding me close, his lips pressing to my forehead.

“James?  If you don’t mind me asking…  How did you lose your arm?”

I could feel the rise and fall of his chest as he took in my question.

“You don’t have to tell me.”

“No, I…  I want to,” he insisted as he brought me that much closer.  His chin rested on top of my head.  “I was on break…  And these little local kids loved playing hopscotch with us.  We’d draw out the hopscotch on the ground and we would use a little rock and all that…  Then one day, there was a truck out by the road.  One of ours.  We didn’t think anything of it even though it wasn’t where it was supposed to be.  We figured that out later.”  He pressed his lips to my head.  He was trembling, even if he was trying to hide it.  “We were searching for a good rock to use… and when I got close to grab a rock under the wheel… someone set off a bomb.  Blew my arm clean off.  It was all in… all in slow motion.”  Bucky sighed, shaking his head.  “I’d rather it be me then one of those little kids though.”

I sighed, squeezing him tight.  “You’re a good man, James.”  He clearly didn’t wanna think about it anymore, so I quickly changed the subject.  “Have you ever had someone braid your hair?” I asked as I reached up, running my fingers through his long hair.

“Can’t say I have,” he said, a chuckle reverberating through his chest.  “Why?  You wanna braid my hair for me, bear cub?”

I hummed, twirling a strand of his hair around my fingers.  “Mm…  I think it’d look real pretty braided…”

“Pretty?  You calling me pretty?” He snorted.

“Mmhm.”

“Why’s that?”

“‘Cause you’re pretty.”

By the blush on his cheeks, I could tell that he hadn’t ever been called pretty again.

And I knew I’d have to start calling him pretty a lot more.

Bucky had a shy smile on his face as he squeezed me closer to him, burying his face in my hair.  “You’re prettier, bear cub.”  He kissed my forehead again, humming.  “Get some sleep.  I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Promise?”

“I promise.”

It was another two months before there was a break in the snow long enough for them to be able to head to town for more groceries.  Plus, they needed to stop and get her some clothing that actually fit her.

Not that Bucky didn’t mind her wearing his clothes.  He liked it a lot, actually.  His little bear cub in his sweaters and such.

But she did want some pants that fit her proper and some underwear, at least.

And she was excited, but clearly anxious.  “Come on, Alpine,” she said happily as they ran out to the truck, Bucky following quickly behind.

“You’re adorable,” he said softly as he climbed in the driver’s seat.

“Shut it,” she said, covering her face in Alpine’s white fur.

He was falling for her.  Hard.  Even after the electric came back on, they hadn’t stopped staying in the same bed.  It just felt natural.  They hadn’t done anything more than cuddle, but he wasn’t exactly in a rush.  Bucky was very happily letting her take the reins when it came to how quick they moved.

But he did wanna talk to her about being together officially at some point.

The one thing he was really worried about was the fact that she still wouldn’t let him call the police.

He just wanted to find the man who had hurt her and wring his neck with his bare hands.

Or at least have him thrown in jail.  At the very least.

The first thing they did was get her some clothes and shoes so she could change into them, even though he was pleased to note that she did keep on his sweater.

She looked really, really good in green.

Like, really good.

“We need at least two containers of cottage cheese,” she said as she grabbed them, grinning.

“Oh, yeah?” He asked, coming up to her and wrapping his arms around her waist.  He couldn’t help it.  He loved touching her.  Preferred to have at least one hand on her at all times.  “Better make that three containers, bear cub.  From what I remember, someone ate an entire container in one sitting and then promptly threw all of it up.”

“I don’t know who you’re talking about.”  Her cheeks flushed as she nuzzled into him.  “And I only have two hands, James.”

A slow smirk spread over his lips as he looked at her pretty face.  He loved getting her all flustered.  “I didn’t say you had to grab it all at once.”  As if to make a point, he reached over and grabbed a third container, moving to set it in the cart.

It was when he had turned his head away for less than thirty seconds that he heard the sound of plastic hitting the ground, and saw cottage cheese splattered across the marble tiles.

“Bear cub?” He said in confusion as he looked around.  But she’d disappeared.  His brows furrowed as his eyes met Brock Rumlow’s, who was glowering at him for some fucking reason.  His eyes flickered down to his outfit, his heart stopping inside his chest when he saw the badge.

Brock Rumlow was a police officer.

His bear cub hated cops and refused to let him call the cops.

She’d disappeared when she saw him.

Fuck.

He didn’t like the thoughts that were running in his head.

Bucky had to find her before Brock did.

He didn’t even attempt to act nonchalant as he ran through the store, leaving the cart there.  His heart was absolutely racing.

Alpine wasn’t sitting outside the front door where they’d left her.

He rushed to the parking lot, breathing out a sigh of relief when he found her and Alpine in the truck, huddled down on the floor.  “Oh, thank fuck,” he breathed out as he got in the driver’s seat.  He didn’t even buckle before he was peeling out of the parking lot.  “He’s not gonna touch you, baby.  I promise.”

She looked up at him with glassy eyes, tears staining down her soft cheeks.  “H-He…  He’s the one who…”

“I know,” he said quietly as he reached over to take her hand, intertwining their fingers and squeezing.  He was flying up the mountain as fast as he could without spinning out, heading for the cabin.  “I know that it’s him.  But he’s not going to touch you, okay?  I’m not gonna let him.  I’m gonna protect you.”  He handed her his phone out of his pocket.  “Bear cub, can you go to my contacts and call Sam?  Tell him we need him as soon as possible.”

She nodded, her hands trembling as she found the name and called.  “H-Hello?  This is Bucky’s friend and w-we need someone at Bucky’s immediately.  Please.”

When they got back to the cabin, he rushed her inside.  “Go upstairs to our bedroom, lock the door, and then go to the bathroom and lock the door,” he said.  “Take the handgun in my bedside table with you.”

“J-Jamie, I’m scared,” she whimpered, her hands shaking.

He rushed forward, his hands holding her face as he pulled her into a kiss.  “It’s all gonna be okay.  But don’t come out for anyone that isn’t me, alright?” He said softly, caressing her cheeks.  “Take Alpine with you.”

She nodded, and he let out a sigh of relief as she went.

He grabbed the gun he had hidden in the living room, quickly loading it.  He knew that Rumlow would be coming up after them, especially if he was the one who had kept his precious girl kidnapped for over a decade.

He had a lot to lose.

But so did Bucky.  He’d just gotten his girl, and he wasn’t losing her anytime soon.

Bucky Barnes would not be losing the one person that made him feel human again.

And if it came down to it, and he died protecting her, he’d be okay with that as long as she was safe.  He’d just have to bring down Brock with him.

He stiffened as he heard the car pull into the drive with a roar and then the slamming of the door.  He knew it wasn’t Sam.  It would take him longer than that to get up there considering when they’d called.

Brock didn’t even bother knocking.  He shot through the lock and threw the door open.

It was all a blur.  Bucky shot at him and managed to catch him in the thigh, but Brock just kept coming.  He was pretty sure he had a bulletproof vest on, too.

“So this is where the little brat’s been?” Brock snarled, glaring as he pointed the gun at him.  “I figured she’d died out in the snow.  Would’ve been better if she had.”

Bucky wasn’t going to dignify it with a response.  He knew Brock was just trying to rile him up to get him to fuck up.  And he couldn’t let that happen when his girl’s life was on the line.

What he did do was aim at Brock’s hand and get him to drop the gun before he rushed forward and pinned him to the ground to wait for Sam.  He shoved him to the ground, glaring at him harshly.  “You will never touch her again,” he hissed, emphasizing each word as his hand wrapped around his throat and squeezed threateningly.  “And I’d fucking kill you now, but you don’t deserve a quick death.”  He spit in his face.  “I want you to get put in prison for life, and I want to hear about how your ass is getting kicked everyday for kidnapping and raping a little girl, and holding her hostage for over a decade.  I’m gonna personally make sure you never see the light of day again.”

As soon as the door opened and Sam came in with two other officers, he lifted his hands in surrender, getting off him once he knew that Brock wouldn’t be able to get out.

Before anyone could stop to question him, he ran upstairs.  “BABY?” He called out as he knocked on the bedroom door.

It took less than thirty seconds for his girl to open the door and throw herself into his arms, Alpine barking excitedly behind her.

“Hey, Alpine,” he said with a laugh as he scooped her up, wrapping her legs around his waist as she buried her face in his neck.  “Did you protect your mama?  Yeah?”

She let out a weak laugh as she nuzzled in further.  “Are you okay?” She asked, her voice cracking as she pulled back to look at him, holding his face as she checked him for injuries.

“Bear cub, he didn’t even touch me,” he said softly, holding her close.  “He’s in cuffs now, being put in the back of a cop car to go to prison…”  He kissed her forehead.  “He can’t ever get near you again.  They’re gonna search his place and it’ll all be over.  You never have to go back there ever again.”

I jerked awake, letting out a broken scream.  Sweat dripped down my back, tears rolling down my cheeks.

Alpine let out a worried whine from where she laid on my feet, keeping them toasty.

“Hey…  Hey, I’m here,” Bucky whispered sleepily as he brought me into his chest with his one arm.  His prosthetic had been taken off earlier.  “I’ve got you, bear cub…  I’m right here…”

I crumbled into tears as I was pulled onto his lap, my nose brushing against his neck.  “J-Jamie…”

“Was it the dream again?”

I nodded, my hands grasping at him to hold him close.  “I wa-was back in that basement…  W-With Him.”

He had gotten to see the basement first hand.  The concrete walls.  The dirty mattress that rested on the ground without any sheets.  The bugs and the rats that I had shared that space with.  The broken window that Brock had covered with a trash bag.  The cameras.

He’d seen me through the whole trial.

It didn’t take long for Brock to be put on trial and found guilty.  Hell, the jury only deliberated for an hour before coming back and giving their verdict.

With all the evidence from his cabin and his own poor defense, I didn’t even have to testify, which was a relief.

The piece of shit actually thought he’d get off easy.  But he got fifty years, and considering he was already over forty, it wasn’t likely that he’d ever get to leave prison again.

There was a bit of… question about what would happen to me after.  Where I would go.

My parents came to see me at Bucky’s, and they started talking about me going home with them and how they still had my room all set up.

But I just couldn’t leave Bucky and Alpine.  Not after everything.

And as much as I knew that me being taken wasn’t their fault, I didn’t feel safe with them like I did with him.

I thought Bucky was going to cry when I said that I wanted to stay with him.  He’d rushed to reassure them that he was going to take care of me and he was already working on helping me get my GED.

They seemed to like him, which was good.

And yeah.  The nightmares still came back sometimes.  I would always be haunted, even with my therapists’ help.

“I’ve got you…  He’s never gonna touch you again.  You’re safe,” Bucky whispered as he kissed my cheek.  He pulled back, his hand cupping my face.  “I love you.  And I’ll never let anyone hurt you ever again.  And you know Alpine won’t.”

“I know,” I said softly as I rested my head against his chest as he laid us down again.  “I love you, too.”

No, the nightmares didn’t go away.  But that didn’t matter when I had Bucky.

#bucky x reader #bucky x you #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n

[soggy-platee]

Doubt

Rating: M

Pairing: Din Djarin x gn!reader

Summary: You get hurt doing something stupid, Din has to confront his feelings for you.

Crossposted on ao3 here!

This was bad. Like, bad bad. You had gotten into fights before, of course, been roughed up more times than you could count. But previously, you had always been able to make it back to the Crest and hide the evidence before Mando got back. This time, however, you weren’t even sure if you would make it back to the Crest alone, much less heal yourself.

Tatooine, of all places, was where you were currently limping through, Mos Eisley to be more exact. Mando had stopped for repairs and you had made the usual excuse to get yourself out of mechanic-assistant duty, yelling something about supplies over your shoulder before hustling to the nearest cantina. Mando and you had been on countless missions over the years, sometimes staying and working together for months at a time. This current run was one of the longer ones, being on your third month-long job with the Mandalorian. Honestly, you had no idea why the hell he kept working with you. You were his total and utter opposite. All talkative and friendly, and a total ass most of the time. Your skills didn’t exactly make up for your personality either, you were a half-decent hunter at best. You liked to think it was because you always filled the silence of the old ass ship he insisted on using.

You had a feeling that if he found out the stupid shit you were always getting into, it might be your last time with him. It was some fucking dumb wager you made, betting on a brawl you knew nothing about. Somehow you won, and that seemed to piss a lot of people off. You had managed to fight most of them off, everyone underestimated you at first because of your small stature. But that element of surprise only lasts so long, and there were just too many of them this time. A slash to your thigh with a rusty knife took you to one knee before a first connected with your temple, sending you sprawling on the dusty floor. After that, it had been a flurry of hits and kicks before the owner chased them off. You had lain there for a while, trying to regain some sense of up and down through your obvious concussion. When you finally lifted yourself to your knees, the only thing that was clear in your mind was the idea of Mando seeing you like this, realizing how reckless and useless you really were. That’s why you were so desperate to get back and cover the evidence. As much as you hated to admit it, you liked working with him, loved it really. It had nothing to do with the little crush you had been harboring on the metal man, you often told yourself.

The port coming into view shook you from your thoughts. No sign of the Mandalorian yet. You tried to hurry, but the deep cut on your thigh stung in protest. You tried to walk as smoothly as possible, the last thing you needed was some other low-life on this dump planet to try to rob you in your weakened state. The high walls of the building loomed over you, casting you in shadow as you moved through the entrance. You moved as silently as you could, listening for the slightest movement to indicate the presence of your partner. The place was silent besides the small tinkering of the pit droids in some corner. You grimaced to yourself, at least this was working out for you .

You limped up the ramp into the dark hold. Making your way to your bunk, you fumbled around in the darkness for your own little stash of medical supplies. You only ever took from your personal stuff; the last thing you needed was being caught because Mando noticed his shit was missing. He had enough of his own wounds to worry about. You precariously gathered all your things into one hand, the other holding your upright. A bacta shot slipped, clinking loudly on the floor as a wave of dizziness came over you. Your hand immediately shot to the wound on your thigh.

Fuck , that was way more blood than you thought. You dipped down to grab the shot, the same dizziness doubling with the movement. Finally, after a few seconds of fumbling, your bloody hand found the cold tube. At the same time your fingers closed around the object, the cockpit door slide open with a metallic hiss. Your head shot up to the sound only to find the large outline of Mando hovering over you in the doorway. He was silent as were you, caught in a contest in the near-darkness of the hold. You swallowed hard. He was usually quiet, but this time, you could feel the anger radiating off him in waves.

Finally, he moved, hitting the first rung and the second before leaping down with a resounding thud . The moment he landed you shot up as fast as your injured state could allow. You both rose straight in tandem. He was directly in front of you, making your height difference more than noticeable. It made you feel even worse, even more, insignificant compared to the warrior in front of you. It was still too dark to make out his features, or lack thereof, but you could hear the creak of his leather gloves as his gloves clenched and unclenched.

Holy shit, he was pissed.

Your mind was racing, maybe you could still get out of this. Apologize like crazy, get out of his sight before he could realize just how bad you had fucked up, how hurt you were. You just hoped to God that he wasn’t using any special settings in his helmet to see you in the dark.

Finally, the damn broke.

“What the fuck did you think you were doing?”

Your brain went into overdrive, getting ready every half-assed excuse you could. Before you could get a word out, he trampled over you nearly shouting, “You were gone for an hour , and now the whole fucking town is talking about the brawl that you were at the center of? Over a fucking bet ? How reckless can you -”

Your anger grew as he grew louder, words getting harsher. Who the hell did he think he was? Yeah, yeah you fucked up, but he wasn’t your fucking dad. W hy did he get a say in what you did anyway?

“Sorry, we can’t all be as fucking upstanding as you, okay? I was blowing off a little steam, Jesus , it’s not that big of a deal…”

You could hear his surprised grunt under your tirade, actually physically moving away an inch at your verble assault. He recovered quickly though, leaning back toward you, leaving only inches between you as he growled, “ Not a big deal ? You know what kind of people are on this fucking planet, how much trouble you could get into?”

You paused, confused. Wait, was he mad at you because you got into trouble or because you could get into more?

Your pause made him continue, lecturing you firmly about how reckless and stupid your actions were. You just took it, hoping he would give up soon and leave you alone. He would have to quit soon if there was any hope of still hiding your injuries from him, you were growing fainter by the second, all previous anger seeping out along with your strength. The blood from your leg had to be pooling onto the floor by now.

There was a break in his speech, so you interjected in a feeble attempt to end the conversation. “ I’m sorry... I get it. I was wrong.” you practically whispered.

“You’re sorry ? I don’t-”

Suddenly, the ship was filled with an overwhelming light. You lifted a hand to shield your eyes, shoulders hunching as the light hit your face. Mando spun in comparison, stance low as he searched for an assault. After a moment, you both realized that the floodlights of the hanger had come on, compensating for the now-low light of sunset outside. In the same second, you realized what Mando would turn to see. You tried to hide, pulling your injured thigh as far back as you could without falling over. But it was no fucking use, bruises smattered your face and arm, dried blood leaving a trail from your brow-

He turned, freezing once his visor met your pained expression. He stood still for a moment and you started with your excuse, “Listen, it’s not as bad as it looks. I can do it myself if you just-”

He was on you a second, grabbing you by the shoulders and pushing you back to sit on the lip of your bunk. You were shocked as you were sat down, he hardly ever touched you, let alone with the firmness and caring that he was using now. His hands moved to cup your face, turning it back and forth, taking in the damage. You braced for a lashing.

Instead, his voice was deadly low when he asked, “Who did this?”

You jerked in his grip, “What?”

He gripped your face tighter, thumb brushing over your cheek before repeating, “ Who did this ? Just give me a name and they’re fucking dead.”

Your dumbfounded expression was reflected in his visor. Wasn’t he just mad at you?

“I’m- I’m sorry. I shouldn't have reacted like that. I didn’t know you were...hurt.”

Whoops, you didn’t mean to say that out loud.

His hands probed their way from your temples down your body, noting every bruise and mark. Finally, he reached the cut on your leg, hissing through his modulator as he felt the sticky fabric around the opening.

He sighed your name as he took in the extent of the damage, “God this is- Why didn’t you tell me ?”

You shifted nervously on your bunk, you couldn’t tell him the truth. It was lame, it was weird . It would freak him out, how much you wanted to stay with him.

I’m so desperate to stay with you I’d rather bleed out than tell you I fucked up.

Yeah, that would go over well.

So you simply acted aloof, hoping to God that he would buy it. As he continued to inspect you leg, you plastered a fake grin on your face and spoke down to him, “Come on Mando, you don’t think that I can handle some cuts myself?

His helmet shot up to your face so fast your expression faltered, giving way to wide eyes and parted lips. He seemed pleased with himself at breaking your facade, grunting in approval as he returned his attention downward.

The both of you were silent as he dug his hand through the medical supplies you had retrieved initially. He started at the cut, snipping away the fabric with careful precision. You had a death grip on his shoulder while he cleaned and cauterized the ugly thing. He kept checking with you, breaking every few minutes with “Are you okay?” , “You’re doing great” , and “Almost done, just hang on.”

What the hell did you do to deserve this, all his devastating kindness?

When he moved to the cuts on your head, you were totally unable to keep your face neutral. Your eyes were saucers, desperately trying to burn this image into your memory. His soft gloves brushing your hair away, helmet titled in concentration. As he cleaned the various areas, one hand soon came to rest on your hip lightly, helping him maintain his crouched position. You couldn’t help the soft smile that overtook your features. You doubted he even knew what he was doing, doubt he knew just what the hand was doing to you.

The pain was getting to you now. Through the bliss of Mando’s hands on you and the numbness of the blood loss, each breath shot stabbing pains through your body. You tried your best to be quiet, accept his treatment without any fuss, but as he reached on a particularly bad cut just above your brow, a whimper of pain slipped from your pursed lips. He pulled back instantly, visor pointing to your eyes. You gave him a tight smile in return, grunting, “I’m good. Keep going.”

He sighed, weighing your words, then slowly returned to his task. God, it felt like molten lava on you, every brush of the cloth made you impossibly tense. No doubt Mando felt you tighten under his grip as he spoke, “What can I do?”

You didn’t even think before you responded through clenched teeth, “ Just talk ...please.”

To his credit, he didn’t laugh at your request. Didn’t even hesitate in fact. He just started talking, to your amazement.

“You know, I was fucking pissed when I was in town and heard you had gotten into that fight... God , I was fucking angry with you…”

You winced at his words, even though you knew the sentiment was well deserved.

“But then I was scared. You could’ve...I was scared you were hurt. I started toward the cantina to find you before, before-I just kept picturing you hurt and it scared the shit out of me.”

You didn’t know what to say, silence falling over the hull once more as you fell short. He had to be kidding, just something to keep you occupied.

You knew that was wrong, as his hand had fallen from your face long ago. It wasn’t a distraction, it was a confession. You should be overjoyed, it was absolutely everything you ever wanted to hear from him. So why weren’t you?

Your brain couldn’t process why, so your mouth took charge, words tumbling from your mouth in a desperate attempt to understand.

“But I didn’t-that was all my fault . I was stupid, reckless , you said it yourself. You shouldn’t- I don’t want you worrying about me over that shit. I fucked up, I fucked up big and -”

He cut you off with a squeeze of your hip, skating his helmet back and forth to your confusion.

“I was just scared and I took it out on you...I’m sorry for that. I don’t like that you think that way. I don’t want- ” he took a breath, collecting himself by ducking his helmet down before returning to face you.

“What I am trying to say is that I don’t care what you did, I just want you safe.”

Tears pooled in the corner of your eyes, all the stress of the say leaving you all at once as you sagged forward, head dropping. You were overwhelmed, but happy. So fucking happy. Everything had just fallen into place and you just couldn’t hold it in.

Mando, unfortunately, took your actions to be ones of injury, as he quickly moved one hand to your jaw, fingers wrapping around your chin tightly forcing you to face him. A tear fell off your nose onto his glove, making a pleasant plopping noise.

He spoke hurriedly, “Hey-hey look at me. What is it? Something hurt?”

You grinned in his grip and grabbed him by his ammo sling. Pulling him close, you leaned forward and rested your forehead against the cool metal of his helmet as he let out a grunt of surprise.

You were both silent for a moment, breathing in tandem before his hand left your chin and came to rest in your hair.

“Not hurt, then?” he guesses. You can hear the smile in his voice.

“No, not hurt.” you choke out around your tears.

Another beat of silence, then, “Wanna tell me why you’re crying?”

You let out a quick laugh at his tone, it was interesting to hear the Mandalorian so hesitant.

You sighed, then said, “I was so worried when I got back here. I thought that, if you saw what I got myself into, you- well, that you wouldn’t... want me anymore.”

His hand gripped tighter in your hair, pressing his helmet more firmly into you. “ Nothing could make that happen. You hear me? Nothing .”

You brought your hand to his still on your hip, gripping it softly. “ I hear you .”

#the mandalorian x you #the mandalorian #fanfic #ao3 fanfic #ao3 #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #mando x you #pedro pascal #din djarin

[courtofcravings]

Another you (2)

Warning: Some blood, needles, minor injuries.

Completed. 

“Also, Y/N, you should call me Jim… Jim or Kirk.” 

“But, Sir? Is that appropriate?” You asked him. You’ve never worked with a captain who was okay with being familiar around their inferior officers. “I think after today, it would be weird if you didn’t,” He said, looking down at you, smiling softly.

“Alright, Jim… Jim or Kirk,” You said, not as a question, but more to mock him like a dad joke. To which he laughed at, “Perfect,” He looked down at the phaser and back at the area you two were walking towards. “So what is this I hear about you not knowing how to use a phaser? Seems pretty standard for anyone going into the field,”

“That’s just it; I know the standard, and that phaser is anything but.” You two walked for a decent amount of time, as he explained to you what the different buttons do, even quizzing you on the important ones to ensure you can protect yourself.

“You know, Bones thinks that I should ask you out.” Your head whipped at him, of all things to come out of his mouth. “Does he?” You asked back, hiding a creeping blush. You refused to look at him, staring ahead. “He’s known I’ve had a crush on you for a while, although, after this morning when we tag-teamed him, he might have changed his opinion.”

“Might never want to see us together in the same room, let alone in a relationship.” You added. With a burst of courage, you asked, “How long have you had this crush, Jim?”

“Since the day Bones introduced us. You’ve had to see that I’ve been showing up at your lab way more often,”

“I thought you were just coming to bug Doctor McCoy in the lab while we worked on the research. Anytime you and I talked, it was always short conversations about the work.” You’ve always liked the captain, but you never believed he’d actually return those feelings.

“I was intimidated.” You stopped walking, “Why are you telling me this now?” You inquired. Does he think you won’t make it out? Off this planet?

“When you face a life or death situation, these confessions seem so pointless to hold back.” You stopped walking and turned to face him; you reached up and planted a small peck on his cheek. “Well, I’d have to agree with Bones; you should ask me out.”

Eventually, you two came across the nest, a large caved in whole in the ground, with small tents inside of it. “I thought this was a diplomatic mission; what did you guys do to piss off the natives?” You asked him, looking at all the different guards walking around.

“They aren’t the natives of this planet that we came to see; these new species killed or enslaved the natives of this planet.” You shivered, not from the icy air this planet had, but from the amount of death that must have occurred here. Jim gave you a reassuring squeeze.

He was freezing to touch, but you knew it wasn’t from the air; it was from the blood loss he’d suffered. He needed real medical attention and fast.

“Why did they take our crew?” You had a sinking feeling in your stomach, made even worse at the fact that you couldn’t see your missing crew. “Trophies of conquering, they will be slaves.”

Near the camp’s left side was a small metal rod hooked to a large box. “Jim,” You pointed at it, recognizing what it was immediately, “That is what is blocking our comms, our transporters. If I can get to it I c-” He scoffed, interrupting me. “Absolutely not, that area is surrounded by them, and you can’t even use a phaser,” He said, his blue eyes staring intensely into yours.

“Okay, and what is your grand plan? To run in guns blazing? You can’t even move without me supporting you, and don’t try to tell me you’re fine.” You returned using the same tone he had with you and the same look he was giving you. “I am well aware of the trauma your body is undergoing due to blood loss right now, so stop telling me you are fine because you aren’t.”

This morning you couldn’t imagine not addressing him by captain, and now you are snapping back at him. What a development. But you know you are still right, so you are not going to apologize.

“I have no idea what Bones was saying; you are much more like him than me.”

“What!? think first, do next?” You scoffed.

“Exactly, but with a bit more pessimism.”

“Your definition of realism and pessimism are confused. If I were pessimistic, there would have been no way I’d almost die trying to help you when you were tied up. With all that blood loss, there is no point in saving a dead man.”

“Come on, Y/N, we both know you only did that because you couldn’t handle this handsome face going to waste.” He said in your ear, making heat creep up to your cheeks.

“Maybe, I am more like Bones; I am starting to learn his bitterness for you,” You bit back. He smiled, looking pale. He needed medical help, and your arm wasn’t doing so well either. You had pushed back the pain while walking in the forest, but It was throbbing—pain radiating up your arm.

“Jim, let me. If I can take it down, you can use the comms. The ship can lock onto the crew and get them out,” You reasoned with him.

“Fine. But if it is too dicey Y/N, I want you to run; you haven’t trained in combat,” He was right; there wouldn’t be much you can do if they confronted you.

“Stay here,” You said, leaning him against a tree. “I really can’t go anywhere,” He replied. Right, at least it’s reassuring to know he can’t get into any trouble. “Be careful,” He said and placed a small kiss on your forehead. “I said it last time, and you didn’t listen, so I’ll repeat it as your captain, don’t do anything stupid.”

You snuck around the nest, hoping not to fall into any of the guard’s eye view. The grey antenna was sitting there waiting to be turned off by you.

Tiptoeing between the tents, you stopped dead in your tracks. You heard that woman’s voice from before talking, having a conversation with two other voices. In the tent to your right, they must have been in there. You took your phaser out and looked under the tight, lifting to see inside it. They were alone.

“You,” The woman said, “Y/N, the scientist.” You ran to her first, untying her, handing her a phaser, then moving to the next two, “The captain?” Sulu asked solemnly. “He is alive, barley. He lost a lot of blood. There is a device blocking the comms I need to take down so we can get out of here.” You informed them. It was mutually decided they should sit still since they were wounded and could possibly attract more attention by being in a larger group.

Making it to the box, you realized it was locked. As much as you wanted to do this quietly, it was out of your hands. This is extremely stupid. You lined up the phaser and shot it a few times until there was a thick hole in the box. You were, hopefully, powering it down so the comms will work.

You stepped back slightly, hitting a hard surface. No, not a surface; it was a body. In an instant, you were picked up and thrown into a wall, hitting your head and back. You couldn’t move but braced for a second impact.

It never came.

“Y/N!” You heard Jim say. Opening your eyes at the sound of his voice, you saw that you were on the ground, safe, in the transport bay. “I can’t believe we actually survived that,” There was blood dripping down your head, and your arm was throbbing, but you were alive.

“Always so pessimistic, Y/N; I knew the whole time we’d be fine.”

“Depends on your definition of fine; you have a hole in your leg, I personally would not call that fine,”

“There is no point in arguing with him, Y/N,” Bones said, walking in with a wheelchair for Jim. “Hey, what happened to don’t do anything stupid? I watched you get tossed.”

“Just thought to myself… hmm, what would Jim do? And as it turns out, it was stupid and dangerous.”

Jim went to make some snarky comeback but instead started to faint. You and bones both supported him and lowered him into the chair. “Sorry, guys, I guess I’m falling too hard for Y/N,”

“Only you would try to be a flirt went fainting from blood loss,” Bones responded. You couldn’t even look at him with your face so heated; you just stayed silent all the way down to Med bay.

Bones took Jim into a private room and began working on his leg. You didn’t know what to do, shower and rest or wait to make sure Jim is alright. “Excuse me, miss?” An older gentleman placed a hand on your shoulder, introducing himself as Dr. Jean. “Dr. McCoy told me to look at your head.”

“I’m really, okay,” Dr. Jean insisted, so you caved; you didn’t mind sitting down for a second. He cleaned up your head wound and did a concussion exam. It came back normal, so he cleared you. Honestly, you were tuckered out from today; you decided to sit and wait outside for Dr. McCoy and Jim. Being too tired to walk upstairs, you chose to close your eyes while waiting.

You felt someone gently shaking your shoulder, but you could barely move. You tried to open your eyes, but they felt too heavy. “What do you mean you cleared her!? Does she look okay to you?” You heard someone yell, no, not someone. “Doc..Doctor McCoy?” Someone beside you cupped your cheek. “Hey, Bones, she’s talking.” You knew that voice, but your felt brain so foggy. “Jim, tell me her heart rate,”

“Jim?” You felt a hand on your neck, “Ouch.” It was still bruised from today. “Bones, I can barely feel one,”

“Nurse Chapel, help me lift her,” You heard her ask more questions, but she was talking so fast, it was hard for your head to digest them. “Foggy” You felt out of breath from just those few words, making it harder to talk, “Doctor, my head,” The doctor and nurse laid you down.  

“I’m Telling You, McCoy! She did not have a concussion.” Someone growled, “Pulse is thready and weak, not fully alert,” You were able to open your eyes slowly; everything around you much too bright.

You felt a comforting warmth touch your hand. “Vitals are not holding,” You looked at your hand; it was Jim. “You were,” You kept running out of breath “Jim, I think she’s talking to you, try to ask her-,” He looked between you and the doctor, “You were so cold when we,” You took a couple of rapid breaths, “But now you’re very warm.”

“Start her on an IV and 92% oxygen.” You noticed you couldn’t feel anything on your one arm, where the scratch is. “Doctor,” You spoke so much already, you felt so out of breath, “My arm,” Dr. McCoy stepped to the side to look at it. “Dammit,” He finished lifting your sleeve, “Jim, you said she scratched it? That looks infected, and her symptoms would suggest venom… maybe the plant was venomous?” He turned to order Nurse Chapel to do something.

You felt an oxygen mask go over your face; Jim was holding it. Finally, feeling like you can breathe and fill your lungs again, “You stayed with me?” Jim looked down at you, “Of course, couldn’t let Bones have all the glory,” He replied while glancing at bones, who was cleaning the wound.

“And here, I thought it was because you couldn’t let my beautiful face go to waste.”

“That contributed to it.” He gave you a small chaste kill on your forehead, brushing your hair out of the way of your face. “Y/N, Your wound has been thoroughly cleaned. Nurse Chapel is going to administer a remedy; it may make you drowsy” You reached your other hand to grab the doctor’s arm and gave a squeeze. “Your welcome, Darlin,” He said, dismissing himself.

“So when am I getting this date?”

“This doesn’t count!?” He asked, feigning surprise. “As much as I think it’s romantic that you almost bled out, and I almost died in a chair, I feel like others may disagree,”

“When you wake up,”

The doctor was right. You slept for about 16 hours while the anti-venom worked through your body. Besides your achy muscles, you were feeling great, energetic even.

“Y/N, you’re finally awake,” Bones walked in to greet you. I know someone will be happy to hear that. He will not stop bugging me about you. “Jim?” The doctor took some quick vitals on you before he felt okay to discharge you. “He has some trouble walking right now, so I sent him to rest. That, of course, has not stopped him from calling to check-in.”

“Can you do me a favor and not tell him I’m awake yet?” Bones gave you a curious look but agreed.

After showering and stopping by the cafeteria, you made it to his door—Ready for a real date. You heard the familiar chime that let him know someone was at the door, and you waited for the swoosh of the door.

It opened, and he was standing there, leaning on his crutch.

“I thought we could have our date, I was promised,” Holding up a bottle of whiskey and some warm fresh food in containers. “You’re awake!?” He signaled with his arm for you to walk in. “Bones didn’t tell me you were awake. Did he check you up before you left?” You set down the food and drinks, turning to face him. “Yes, of course,” He took a few steps over to you, a smile on his face.

“I thought it would be nicer as a surprise.” You wrapped your arms around his neck. “I brought food and drinks because I know your leg is still recovering; I hope that’s okay.” He cupped your cheek with one hand while tilting his head slightly and kissing you softly. He was bracing himself with his other hand against the wall, “Very much okay with me.”  

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

#star trek imagine #star trek imagines #star trek x reader #star trek #james kirk imagine #james kirk imagines #james kirk x reader #jim kirk imagine #james kirk #jim kirk imagines #jim kirk x reader #kirk x reader

[thiswasinevitableid]

98. I’ve been hired to kill you, but you don’t seem that concerned???

Super/vigilante/mercenary au? I feel like it would be really cool if one of them has known the other’s secret identity for a while but doesn’t have anything against them. The two have also been becoming /close/ friends with mutual pining, so the hit is actually just a good excuse to reveal their identity before asking them out. Indruck, nsfw, please!

Here you go! I tried to work in as much of this as I could

Content warning for mentions of guns and mentions of death

It’s a dark and stormy night, because of course it fucking is.

Indrid steers the borrowed car down the street, rain hammering the car while his heart tries chiseling it’s way from his chest. He doesn’t want to be here, circling the block like a shark on a reef, the light from the top floor, left corner of the apartment building telling him there’s no pretending his prey isn’t home. He doesn’t want to think about the instructions he burned, the lethal object hidden in his clothes.

He doesn’t want to kill Duck Newton.

“Excuse me, but I have a rather odd question; which of these trails is the least traveled?”

The ranger looks up from the map between them, grin friendly and a little lopsided, “Lookin to do some birdwatchin or somethin?”

“I like to draw but I, ah, I also get easily overwhelmed by crowds.”

“Try this one” The man circles a trailhead, “not super popular this time of year. Watch out for mud.”

“I shall, thank you.”

He didn’t.

Which is why he’s back in the visitor center, trying to get enough of the mud off so that driving home isn’t miserable. Worse, the ranger from earlier walks in, takes one look at him, and snickers.

“I tried! Truly, I was careful, but there was this-”

“Patch of stones in the trail?”

“...Yes. How did you know?”

“Fell flat on my ass two days ago thanks to them. Wait here a sec.” The door swings shut, then opens again while Indrid is rinsing mud from his glasses. The ranger holds out a packet of body wipes, “this’ll get the worst of it.”

“Thank you ranger...Newton.”

That same smile, reaching a pair of mismatched eyes, “Just call me Duck. It’s a nickname.”

Indrid parks in a spot far from any streetlights or cameras, pulls the hood of his sweatshirt over his head and starts towards the apartment complex.

“These are fascinating.” Indrid peers over the edge of the dock at the early blooming bulbs.

“Glad you like ‘em, thought they might be alley after you showed me those drawings of the marsh.”

He imagines Duck seeing the flowers on his rounds and thinking not of the seasons, the weather, the way their petals look near the water, but of him. It’s the sweetest thought anyone’s ever spared for him.

The lobby door opens easily, courtesy of the copy of the keycard left in his mailbox. He knows he should take the stairs; fewer people use them.

He calls the elevator.

“Duck? The sign on the door is, that’s just temporary right?”

“Nope.” Duck sets his hat on the counter, runs a hand right through the grey streak in his hair, “they’re closin the whole park until further notice, which is probably gonna be never. Laid all of us off.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“S’okay.”

Even Indrid could tell it wasn’t. That from their occasional conversations, Duck’s work was akin to his heart, kept life flowing through him on even the roughest days. The assignment had told him not to worry, that he was almost doing his target a favor, ending a life he wanted over anyway.

Indrid knocks on the door, tossing his options about in his mind as slow footsteps approach. He could do what he was sent here for. Or he could offer Duck Newton something to brighten his days.

The door opens, Duck standing there in boxers, a plain white t-shirt, and a confused expression.

“Indrid? Jesus, come in, you're fuckin soaked. This is some storm.”

“At least it will help with the drought.” Indrid closes the door, slips off his shoes, lets Duck take his sweatshirt to hang near the heater, angling his body so he won’t see or feel the handgun tucked in his waistband.

“Yeah. Assumin it don’t just mudslide all the hills that lost their cover durin fire season.” Duck sighs, plops down on the couch, “sorry, ain’t exactly in a chipper mood.”

“That’s sort of why I came to see you. I, ah, I wanted to see how you were getting on after the park closing.”

Duck gestures to the messy apartment, then at himself.

“Is there anything I can do to help?”

“Not unless you got enough money to reopen the park indefinitely.”

He chuckles, “I wish I did.” He picks up a small, wooden ship, “goodness, did you make this?”

“Yep. Know it’s an old man hobby but, uh, I dunno. I just like makin stuff. Putting things into the world, even if it’s just a model ship on the shelf or a mint plant on the windowsill.” His smile is tired, but there’s a determination to it that makes up Indrid’s mind for him. He’s about to make his offer when Duck adds, “mind grabbin me some water since you’re closer to the kitchen? Cups are in the middle cabinet.”

“Of course.” Indrid crosses into the small kitchen, mind wandering to what their first date will entail as he sets his hands on two glasses.

The cold metal at the base of his neck hurtles him back to earth.

“Someone set you up, slim.”

“I, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Duck’s hand goes instantly to Indrid’s gun, pulling it free and tossing it away before roughly patting him up and down. The barrel on his skin never wavers.

“Duck, please, I, I can explain.”

“No need to. Thought you seemed familiar, went diggin and found out who you work for. Bet you thought I hadn’t seen your nine mil, but I ain’t lived this long by bein careless.”

“I don’t understand. The file they gave me didn’t say anything about this.”

A bitter chuckle, “Wasn’t always a ranger, slim. The fact they didn’t tell you that makes me think they’re hopin I off you, not the other way around.”

“But, but I didn’t do anything.” The crack in his voice is why he was never cut out for this, he told them that, over and over again.

“And you ain’t gonna.”

“Duck please I, I wasn’t going to do what they told me.”

“If your bosses are who I think, then helpin me would be a goddamn death wish on your part.”

“It would have been worth it. One date with you would have been worth whatever they did to me if they caught me after I ran.”

“That’s mighty funny” the barrel disappears, and the ghost of a kiss takes it’s place, “I was busy weighing whether askin you out was worth the risk of gettin shot.”

Duck sets the Glock on the counter as Indrid slumps against it, turning to find the ranger watching him carefully.

“What do we do now?” He sort of wants him to kiss him, sort of wants to storm out and find whoever thought he could be gotten rid of so easily.

“I say we-” Duck freezes as three, sharp knocks come from the door. He crouches to the floor, Indrid following him. The ranger grabs Indrid’s gun from the floor, whispers, “stay put, follow my lead.” Then he calls, “who is it?”

“I have a package for you to sign for, Mr. Newton.”

“Be right there. Actually” he lowers his voice slightly, “uh, Indrid, you’re right by the door, could you-”

The shot breaks the wood right where Indrid’s head would be. Duck fires two shots, both of them sighing when there’s a tell-tale thump of body meeting carpet.

“Glad yours had the silencer. Buys us some time, but someone is bound to come outta their apartment eventually and find the fucker.”

“Our hitmen also have to report completion within a certain time frame or back-up is sent. And no, I can’t do it for him, it has to be voice contact.” Indrid stands, calmer than a moment ago; this part he knows.

“Good to know. In that case, slim,” he raises an eyebrow, “think it’s time you and I take a vacation.”

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

“You really got no clue what they’re after you for?” Duck winds them along highway 50 as the sun peers anxiously over the horizon.

“None.” Indrid fishes out the roll of mini doughnuts he bought near Donner Lake, the first place Duck had deemed safe to stop since they left the coast. They’re in his car, Indrid knowing full well the one he borrowed has a tracking device installed, “I’m mostly a numbers man; they give me scenarios and I give them likely outcomes. I, ah, I also helped with clean up, but I suspect they did that when they were annoyed I’d given them what they thought was an inaccurate prediction. I don’t like the aftermath of disasters, even if they’re small. And I was never, ever assigned a hit until last night” He worries a hangnail, “I thought they were satisfied with my work. Even if they weren’t, they could easily do away with me. There was no point in sending me on a fake mission and hoping you’d kill me instead.”

“Unless they got something against me too, which they could.” Duck drums on the wheel, “I, uh, I joined a, uh, guess you’d call ‘em a vigilante group when I was younger. I was eighteen and they recruited me, sayin how there were certain folks who were chosen to protect the world from evil. I avoided it for a few years, but they were persistent, and honestly I thought I could make a difference. That we were just protectin folks who the system didn’t. And we did. Kinda.”

Indrid offers him a doughnut, which he takes and chews before continuing

“Trouble was, not everyone agreed on who needed protectin. It got so convoluted and so goddamn dangerous that I decided I wanted out. Wanted to spend the rest of my life makin things grow, lookin out for the woods, that kinda thing. It almost worked. But if I could go back in time to talk to that kid, I’d tell ‘im there are enemies you can’t unmake, things you can’t undo.”

“Very true.” Indrid murmurs, “I suppose I’d tell myself I did not blame him for throwing in with who he had to in order to survive.”

“Pretty sure that’s what you’re doin’ now, too.”

“No.” Indrid shakes his head, “right now I am on the run with someone I like a great deal.”

Duck flashes him a smile, flips the blinker to turn them into the only sign of civilization for miles; a cluster of buildings calling itself Cold Springs Station. The groggy teen at the counter gives them the key to a cramped cabin.

Indrid tosses his bag--the one he hid in the trunk of the borrowed car, knowing the likely outcome of his visit would involve flight of some kind--down on the right side of the bed, Duck doing the same on the left. It’s only when they’re under the covers, both half-asleep, that he notices he forgot something.

“Drat. I meant to stick something plush in my bag. I, ah” he blushes, “I sleep much better with something to cuddle.”

A strong arm drapes over his waist while Duck tucks his head under Indrid’s head, “how’s that?”

Indrid winds his limbs around him, feeling like a little kid who’s just had his favorite teddy bear returned to him after hours of tearful searching, “perfect.”

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

The plan is to weave through the Southwest like a drunk bee before turning North; they need to put off visiting any places with friends or family for as long as they can. They spent a morning on the floor of a run down motel with a map and some pens, marking off the safest routes and places they’d like to visit. Duck picks state parks, Indrid any place likely to have lots of sweet food.

Whenever they stop for the night, they never bother asking for two beds. While they’ve yet to go further, Indrid delights in waking Duck with a kiss on the cheek each morning.

On the Nevada border Indrid spends two hours playing Blackjack, counting cards enough to win several thousand dollars but not enough to get caught. In a pizza place outside of Salt Lake, Duck wins Indrid a stuffed mothman from a claw machine (“just in case you gotta sleep alone some time”).

And fifty miles from Alamogordo, they get into trouble.

Indrid carries his weapon near constantly, but he really didn’t think he needed it at the Motel 6 Breakfast Buffet. When the man waiting for the waffle maker next to him says “outside, Cold, let’s get this over with” he goes still, wishing they’d at least given him time to eat.

Then he hurls his scalding mocha into the man’s face, striking him in the ribs and breaking his nose before he even hits the floor. Orange and red liquid splashes his face, two shots hitting the juice dispenser behind him. The other two assassins don’t get a second chance to fire; Duck takes out one with a chair, jabs the other with the splintered leg, and gathers both their guns with an ease that Indrid admires.

As they’re sprinting for the parking lot, Indrid slapping an extra two hundred dollars on the lobby desk in apology, he realizes admiration doesn’t quite capture his feelings. Duck is so calm in the face of danger, so commanding, and so very, very...hot.

The moment he allows himself that thought is the moment he dooms his focus for the remainder of the day. He contributes to the planning of their next stop, to driving and watching the mirror for cars that follow for too long, but his mind is back in the dining room, hoping Duck will turn the fire in his eyes onto Indrid, bend him over the beige table and take him while the people who tried to hurt them whimper and bleed on the floor.

“‘Drid? I’m gonna go shower, didn’t get a chance this mornin. You wanna scope out dinner?”

“Of course, but I fear it might be the vending machine special again.”

“Eh, I can live with that, especially if they got those Oreo packets.” Duck blows him a kiss and shuts the bathroom door.

Duck’s showers are between five and six minutes in length; Indrid’s certain he can get himself off in that time. He slips his pajama pants down, spits in his hand, and pretends the fingers pressing on his neck are not his own. That Duck’s voice is in his ear the same way it was that first night, low and so firm Indrid has no choice but to bend.

“You droppin hints, slim?” Duck leans in the bathroom doorway, towel around his waist.

He bolts upright, pants tangled around his knees, “Nono, I’m, I’m so sorry, I thought you were going to be a few minutes more.”

“Wanted to shave and forgot my dop kit. Now I’m kinda disappointed that I was gonna miss the show.”

“I, ah, I, it doesn’t bother you?”

“Thought we established we were into each other.” Duck’s smile falters, “wait, fuck, if you decided you ain’t I’ll back the fuck off.”

“No!” Indrid crawls to the edge of the bed nearest Duck, not caring how silly he must look, “it’s the opposite, I want you even more now than I did when we started this trip. After this morning I--ah, never mind. The point is, I would very much like to get you into bed sooner rather than later.”

“How about now?”

“Only if you…” Indrid’s brain screeches to a stop as Duck drops his towel. Now he understands where the urge to create phallic sculptures comes from; he wants to preserve this sight for all time.

“Glad you approve.” Duck chuckles, joins him on the bed, “gotta say the, uh, feelin’s mutual.” He slides a hand along Indrid’s dick, gone soft from his alarm, and lets out an approving groan as it hardens against his palm, “that’s it, sugar, get excited for me.”

“If I get any more excited I will explode.”

“Can’t have that, it’s a pain to clean blood off of walls by yourself” a kiss finds his cheek, “you got a preference for how we do this?”

“I, I’d like to, ah, receive. At least for tonight. Is that alright?”

“Hell yeah.” Duck growls, abandoning him on the bed and laughing when he whines, “gimme two seconds, slim, then I’ll take care of you.” Two condoms and a small bottle of lube bonk into Indrid’s foot, “packed those just in case. You’re gonna get one of ‘em out and open yourself up for me while tellin me just what got you so riled up. Shirt off, c’mon, get to it.”

The gruff tone means Indrid is blushing on every inch of skin by the time he’s fully naked. As Duck’s gaze moves over him, all traces of dominance wash away, leaving expression tender when their eyes finally meet.

“Christ, ‘Drid, you look better than ever coulda pictured. Shoulda been bookin more places with pools just to get you shirtless.”

“It’s January, dear.”

“Hot tubs, then.” Duck nudges him onto his back by kissing his shoulder, and the sight of the ranger above him reminds Indrid’s fingers what they should be doing. He fumbles the condom open, gasps when one digit feels like a massive intrusion.

“Easy slim, easy, you’re probably still tense from this mornin.”

“I thought that much was obvious.” Indrid grins as Duck bends to kiss his collarbone.

“It is, so start tellin me what got you so horny you jerked off the first free second you had.”

“It’s a, a bit embarrassing OH, ohthat'snice” he sighs as Duck kisses a slow trail towards his hips, “but I find the moments when you demonstrate a certain...ruthlessness in-incredibly arousing.” He wiggles his hips happily as Duck drags his lips across his belly.

“Keep goin.”

“You’re brave, and calm even when things are awful, and that makes me feel so very safe with you. But then there are those times when I remember how dangerous you could be, AHnnn” the second finger goes in easier than the first, “that when it, it comes down to it you are more seasoned in lethal matters than I am and I, you could render me utterly helpless, have me, use me, hurt me, but instead you offer me more tenderness than I deserve.” He glances down to where Duck’s chin rests on his chest, the ranger’s eyes overflowing with affection.

“You want the gentle me or the rough one tonight?” Duck tucks a strand of Indrid’s silver hair behind his ear.

“Rough.” It’s so quiet he’s amazed Duck hears it.

“Okay. In that case-”

“AHgod!” Indrid’s hand is pulled free as Duck first flips him over and then hauls him onto his knees.

“Hands on the wall. Now.”

Indrid sets his palms on peeling grey paint as foil crinkles behind him. When the head of Duck’s cock rubs his entrance he whimpers, hoping the prep was enough.

“Here’s how this is gonna go; I’m gonna use this cute little ass however long and however hard I want, and you;re gonna keep your hands there the whole fuckin time. You move, or you mouth off, and I shove some fingers in along with my dick just to remind you who’s boss.”

“Ohhhhhyes” Indrid rests his forehead on the wall.

“It gets to be too much, say stop.” A kiss to his neck, “much as I wanna ruin you, wanna be good to you even more.”

“Understood. Now please, please fuck meEEEh, ohgoodnessAH, ahhhgod.” He scratches the wall as Duck stretches him open, the prep proving enough but only just and tears pricking his eyes by the time Duck bottoms out.

One hand stays on his hip while Duck’s right arm wraps around his chest, keeping them close, “Fuuuck, now I see what your job was; ass this nice, you were the fuckin cocksleeve for the entire Organization, weren’t you?”

“Not at all” Indrid rolls his hips at the taunt in Duck’s voice, “I was a very valuable asset.”

“Yeah, I’ll say you’re an asset.” A sharp thrust, the menace of which is broken by Duck giggling at his own joke, Indrid hiding his face in his arm to do the same.

“I say in, ahgod, an office all day, no one saw me, I was not h-hired for my looks, I promise you.”

“If you say so. I say it’s their. Fuckin. Loss.” Three thrusts and Indrid’s cock is dripping onto the pillows, and he moans as Duck settles into a demanding rhythm.

“Got another theory for you, slim.”

“D-do tell.” Whether the stammering is from his teeth clacking together or his thoughts being bounced around his brain from the force of Duck pounding into him, he can’t say.

“I think you stuck around as long as you did because you get off on it danger.”

Indrid sucks in a breath, whimpers, “No. I, I was there because I was apprenticed out and, as you knowOH it’s, it’s hard to leave such places.”

Fingers on his throat, pressing but not squeezing, “Liar. Bet you got off at least once a day, let everyone from the hired hits to higher ups cum in you as long as they made you think they could off someone. Oh fuck, heh, you like that?” Duck smirks as Indrid tries to fuck himself in time with the pumps of his hips.

“Yes, goodness, I’d never want it, only want you, but, but the idea is divine.”

“Too bad, because now you’re all mine and anyone who tries to take you is gonna be in for a world of hurt.”

His climax curls in his stomach, begging him to touch himself and free it, but he’s determined to be good.

“Duck, please let me cum, please, it’s so good but I can’t-”

“I’ll help you out sugar, don’t worry. But you gotta do one thing first.” Duck nips his ear, “say you’re my personal toy from now on. C’mon” the fingers on his throat tighten, “say i-”

“I’m yours, I’m your toy, only you can have me, you can do whatever you wish to me and I’ll take it with a smile, anything, sweetheart, please, pleasepleasepleaseAHhhhn.” His cum splatters on the wall, Duck’s hand leaving his dick the instant it does to dig his fingers into both hips and fuck up into him with ecstatic groans.

“That’s it sugar, take it, be good for me and lemme fuck you until you can’t move, ohfuck, fuck, ‘Drid, yes, fuckyes.” He holds him tight as he cums, breath warm against his back. Then he’s pulling out and slumping forward as Indrid falls back into his arms.

“Ooops” he snickers, spotting the cum, “still easier to clean than blood.”

“Indeed.” Indrid bites his lip, “I, that was wonderful but there’s one thing more I would like. Will you kiss me.” He looks over his shoulder to say it. Duck cups his face, turns it so he can bring their lips together. It’s far slower and twice as tender as anything else they’ve done together.

“Can’t believe I forgot to do that until now. Gonna kiss you silly.” Duck kisses him again as Indrid turns in his lap. When he pulls back, his face is serious, “Y’know, it’s easy to be brave and calm when I’m doin’ it for you. You make me feel like I can face any goddamn thing, long as it’s for your sake. That make sense?”

Indrid studies his face in the half-shaded light from the bedside lamp, sees the curves and colors, sees the man he was willing to run away for.

“Yes, sweetheart, it does.”

#indruck #indrid cold/duck newton #meet ugly #hitman au #I guess? #assassin au

[reidgraygubler]

not just a ghost hunter (raymond wadsworth/reader)

Title: Not Just A Ghost Hunter

Request: no

Pairing: Raymond/Gender-Neutral!Reader

Category: Fluff/Angst

Content Warning: seance, talks of demons and ghosts, swearing, bloody nose, mentions of dying and death, use of a Oujia board, mentions of the death of a parent

Word Count: 4,194

Summary: A ghost is haunting Reader’s home, so they get in contact with a close-by Ghost Hunter, Raymond Wadsworth. 

A/N: the final day of my 7days7fics!!! I had a lot of fun writing these this could be read as platonic, could be read as romantic, depends on how you want to read it :). Also I'm sorry if there’s ANY inaccuracies with this one, I just went off the knowledge that I knew… which is basically from buzzfeed unsolved… not a super trustworthy source… anyways… and lastly, my sister read this and she said she got spooked at some parts, so just… proceed with caution. thank you all so much for the support! i really do appreciate it. check out my masterlist!

My house isn’t haunted. It can’t be haunted. Right? I mean, all my life I’ve lived in houses that were normal. I’ve never lived in a haunted house. And if they were, I’m sure I’d remember that. Though, I did have an imaginary friend when I was a kid, and now that I think about it, I don’t think it was imaginary.

So, if my house isn’t haunted, can someone tell me why my reflection wasn’t my reflection… And was instead the face of a little girl…? She was pale and translucent and looked… lost. 

She looked lost until she jumped at me, causing me to fall back in my chair.

“What the fuck!” I jumped off the ground and looked back at the mirror. The little girl was gone now, and I was left staring at my own reflection. It was like nothing happened. Everything was… normal. 

I was quick as I finished getting ready for the day, trying hard to ignore anything… out of the ordinary. But it felt so hard when the room went from comfortable temperature to freezing cold. A shiver went down my spine, causing me to squeal.  

My house seriously can’t be haunted…. I just moved in! Maybe that was why the house was for sale. The previous owners were sick and tired of a creepy little girl wreaking havoc in their lives. Aren’t realtors supposed to disclose whether a house is haunted or not? Or was that just a myth?

I did what any other sane person would do: I ignored my problems and hoped they would go away on their own. That’s the right thing to do, right? I mean, I’ve done it before and those issues went away. 

It was hard. At first, it was the lights flickering on and off, then came the clattering from the attic, then I would find the chairs in weird spots or pulled out from the table… And then what it was… was waking up with scratches on my arms, legs, and torso. That was what got me worried and scared. 

I decided to stop being a normal and sane person. I couldn’t live like that anymore. So, I called someone. I was half expecting them to laugh at me and hang up. But, instead, they were very understanding. 

“Ghost Hunting and Psychic Medium,” a woman spoke cooly into the phone. I pulled the blanket tighter around my body as I looked around my home.

“Yeah... Hey, hi, I was just wondering how much your services are?” my voice was soft as I spoke. It was hardly a whisper. I wasn’t afraid that the ghosts could hear me. I was… Yeah, no, I was afraid the ghost could hear me. 

“Well, that depends on what you’re looking for. If your house is haunted and you need help putting the ghost to rest. Or, if you want to reach out to a loved one…” she continued, her voice droning on as she talked. I wondered if she actually liked her job. 

“Uh… I think my house… is haunted.” I wrinkled my nose as I looked at the coffee table, watching as a magazine dragged off the edge of the table by seemingly nothing. “I definitely think my house is haunted,” I nodded and spoke quickly.

“Do you know by what?” 

“What? What the fuck does that even mean?” 

“What kind of spirit is it? Like, is it a poltergeist, because if it’s that we don’t do that. Is it a normal spirit? A ghost? Do you know what type of spirit? And have you seen any orbs?”

“What the fuck are you talking about? I just… I don’t know! I need help. That’s all. I just need help.” I spoke quickly, “The fucking magazine just fell off the table! I woke up with scratches on my body from nowhere! I just need help." 

“I’ll send Raymond to your place, right away. What’s your name and address?” she asked, her tone suddenly calming as she spoke. I took a deep breath before giving her my address. “He’ll be over when he’s done with this client.” 

“Thank you.”

“Oh! Real quick! Do you have any pets? Cats, dogs…?”

“No?” I raised an eyebrow, trying to not think about how weird of a question it was, “Is… Is that important?”

“Mmm, a little bit. Raymond will ask you more questions when he gets there. But, I can tell that you need our help with the urgency in your voice.” 

“Thanks, I… I think…” I furrowed my eyebrows as my eyes shifted across the room. 

“He should be over soon!” 

“Thanks, again,”  I swallowed roughly before hanging up the call. I held my phone in a tight grip as I stared at the front door, waiting for the bell to ring or there to be a knock with the knocker. 

‘Stupid old house,’ I thought to myself as I slowly nodded off.

However I wasn’t asleep for very long because 20 minutes later, there was a knock on the door, causing me to jump awake and fall to the ground. 

“Coming!” I shouted, pulling the blanket tighter around my body as I shuffled to the front door. 

When I unlocked the door and pulled it open, I was met with a tall, scrawny-looking guy who looked nothing like a ghost hunter or psychic or medium. He just looked like a normal-looking dude. 

“Are you…?” he asked my name, looking at me with a friendly smile on his lips. I stared at him and nodded, forgetting that I gave his secretary my name earlier. “Perfect! Nice meeting you, I’m Raymond Wadsworth,” he stuck a hand out with his introduction.

“It’s… It’s nice meeting you too,” I stared at him before stepping to the side, “Thanks for helping me, by the way. I just moved in and I swear my house isn’t haunted,” I lied as he entered my home. My lie was foiled as a loud clatter followed by a bang came from up the stairs. “That’s the cat,” I lied, again, although I wasn’t sure why I was lying to begin with. I’m the one who called for help. I think my nervousness is making me lie. I’m pretending that I don’t need help when I really do need it; it was just a defense mechanism. 

“You said you didn’t have a cat,” Raymond looked down at me with a raised eyebrow. I swallowed roughly before shrugging.

“I… I don’t,” I widened my eyes before stepping into my house a bit more. “Roommate?” I glanced over my shoulder and at Raymond. He didn’t seem too convinced by my lie. And to be honest, neither was I. “I thought I lived by myself,”

“When did you say this house was built?” he asked, looking around at the old crown molding before looking down at the original hardwood floors that creaked with every step.

“Uh… 1901… I think. I don’t remember. I just know it’s very old.” I stepped so I was beside him, making the floor creak with my step. Raymond jumped slightly at the sound, forcing me to hold back my snicker. 

“People definitely died in this house then.” Swallowing roughly, he looked towards the staircase. Another clattering came from somewhere upstairs, causing me to jump behind him. It wasn’t like that’d do much help, honestly. I mean, standing behind a ghost hunter… while we’re both looking for ghosts… doesn’t really make sense. 

“Sorry,” I looked over at him as I felt the terror grow in my stomach, “I can’t move out either… I just moved here two months ago…” I spoke as I gave him the tour of my haunted house. I really wished I didn’t move into a haunted house. 

“You definitely do have some angry spirits here,” he looked around my home. I froze as we walked through a cold spot. “Dining room?” he looked over at me. I swallowed roughly and nodded before taking the lead back to the dining room. 

“Do you need anything? Like, uh, water? I don’t know. I’ve never thought I needed to do this before,” I looked up at him as he placed his bag on the table.

“Do you have any offerings to give the spirit?” Raymond asked as I sat across from at the table. I looked at him as my hands folded on the tabletop. 

“Uh… Er… An offering? I thought you were the ghost hunter here! Not me!” I watched as he set up a Ouija board and candles. 

“Not a ghost hunter,” he looked up from the candles as he lit them. I furrowed my eyebrows before standing back up. “Do you have anything?” he didn’t exactly clarify what sort of offering I would need. So, I went in blind.

“Yeah, yeah, let me… Let me check,” I tapped my fingers on the table before walking away. I slowly walked back to the kitchen, my phone flashlight safely guiding the way in the dark, spooky halls and rooms of my home.

“Stupid offering,” I scoffed, rummaging through the cabinets for something, anything that would work as some sort of “offering” for this stupid ass ghost. 

It was near impossible to find anything for this ghost. Granted, my food situation was a little on the lower side, seeing as I needed to grocery shop. Maybe this dumb thing would like.…

“Rice Krispies!” I exclaimed as I spotted the blue boxed cereal treat. I grabbed a few Rice Krispies before running back to the dining  room. But, before I made it, I seemingly tripped over nothing. 

“Fuck!” I shouted, landing hard face-first into the floor. My hand found its way to my nose, feeling blood trickling down my lips. “Shit, shit shit,” I muttered as I scrambled to my feet. 

“Did you find something?” Raymond looked back at me. I smiled, ignoring the blood coming from my nose, as I held up the 3 Rice Krispie treats I had. “What happened to your nose?” his shoulders dropped and worry took over his face as he looked at me.

“Oh! Uh, I tripped over the rug,” I lied, looking at him as I approached the table. I have one rug in the whole house, and it’s in the dining room. It was obvious that I had lied. He’s picked up on my lies covering for my fears.“I have… I have Rice Krispies! Will these work?” I looked down at the snack before placing them on the table.

“No-Well, yeah, they’ll work,” he shook his head as he picked up the treats. I nodded before rushing back to the kitchen, grabbing paper towels to hold to my nose. I returned to the dining room to find Raymond sitting at the table. The candles he had set up on either side of the Ouija board were lit, and the lights were turned off. 

“Do you do this with your girlfriend?” I laughed, looking at him as I slowly approached the table. Raymond looked up from his book and right at me. 

“I… I don’t have a girlfriend,” he furrowed his eyebrows. I swallowed roughly before sitting across from him. “Now, we have to summon the spirit,” he looked at me, watching as I nervously tugged my finger tips. 

“You… You want to summon the spirit… H-here? Are you sure that’s a good idea,” I could feel my body shaking with fear with his words. I was already dreading this. But I knew something had to happen because I couldn’t live in a haunted house. Something had to go, and it wasn’t going to be me. 

“We need to figure out why it’s here, where it came from, what it wants, and how to get it to leave.” Raymond looked at me as he placed his hands, face up, on the table. I stared at them for a moment before carefully resting my fingertips in his hands. 

“Are… Are you sure you need me for this? I could wait outside if you don’t really need me,” I stared at him. The way the small flames glowed off his face only mildly scared me. The intensity of his eyes told me I should stay here. “Okay, I’ll stay,” I whispered. 

Raymond started talking, bringing the ghost to the dining room with us instead of where it lived upstairs. I jumped out of my skin the second a loud bang came from my room. Raymond looked back at me, his grip around my hands tightening slightly. I couldn't tell if he was doing it to keep me still, or he was doing it to reassure me. I hoped for the latter. 

“Everything will be okay. I’m scared too,” he whispered as he looked at me. I swallowed roughly and nodded. 

“Don’t you do this for a living? And you’re scared?” 

“Everytime I do this, I’m scared. Because, if it’s a vengeful spirit… I’m fucked. I just started this business with my partner last year. I’m in no way equipped to deal with a vengeful spirit or poltergeist. I just do pissed off ghosts who need help crossing over.” The way he spoke was almost sad. I couldn't exactly put my tongue on it, but there was a certain sadness in his words. “They get a little lost and get stuck in the homes of their former lives.”

“That’s… That's really sad actually,” I whispered, looking down at the Ouija board in front of me. “Don’t make me feel bad for ghosts. This thing has been tormenting me since I’ve moved here.” I looked back at Raymond and scolded. He only smiled and shrugged.

“Ready?” he asked as he removed his hands from mine and placed them on the planchette. I swallowed roughly, resting my fingers opposite his. “Are you here?” his voice was low as he looked down at the tiny window on the board. 

I watched as the planchette moved across the board, slowly moving towards ‘Yes’. My heart was in my throat as I stared at the yes. I had to convince myself that this was real, and it wasn’t just Raymond messing with me. I mean, this whole thing could be a total scam and this guy I invited over is a total scam artist. 

“Can you tell us your name?” Raymond asked, causing me to look up at him. He had a crease in his brow as he looked down at the board. 

I looked back down at the board as my hands were moving with the planchette. It moved between letters, giving us the name Marjorie. 

“That… that’s the name of the little girl I dream about,” I looked up at Raymond. He looked back at me with a raised eyebrow. “I only have dreams about every so often, like once a week.” 

“She must be trying to get a message to you,” he looked back down at the board.

“Hello Marjorie, I’m Raymond,” he introduced himself to the spirit that was with us. “Can you tell us how old you are, Marjorie?”

My eyes dropped back down to the board, watching the planchette move to the number 1 twice. 

“She was 11 when she died,” I whispered, staring at where our hands sat. My heart slowed as I stared. Swallowing roughly, I looked back up at him. “She’s just lost…” I blinked as my eyes began welling up. 

“We’re here to help her,” Raymond reminded me. I nodded, feeling as a tear rolled down my cheek. “Marjorie, are you lost? Do you need help finding your way home?” 

I was too distracted to see the answer. And the reason why I was distracted was because there was a laughter of a little girl coming from behind me. 

“R-raymond,” my voice shook as my body froze. Raymond slowly looked up from the board and right behind me. “Please tell me you heard that too,”

“I need you to stay very still,” he whispered before he stood up. I watched as he walked beside me and knelt to the ground. “You must be Marjorie,” he looked behind me as he spoke. 

“C-can I move?” I asked, swallowing roughly. And, before he even got the chance to answer, the candles were blown out and the room got very cold. 

“Fuck,” Raymond muttered as he stood up straight. I looked up at him with wide eyes.

“Fuck as in “fuck she’s gone for good” or Fuck as in “Fuck she's fucking gone”? Because I don’t like the way you said that,” 

“The latter,” he paused when more clatter came from upstairs. I swallowed roughly before turning in my chair to look at the stairs. “She must’ve gone up there. I’m willing to bet her bedroom is your current room,” he looked down at me. 

“I-I’m guessing you want us to… go up there?” I stared at him. He dropped his head before nodding. I looked back at the table, looking at the Ouija board.

“I’m never sleeping ever again,” I muttered as I stood.

“It’ll be that way for a long time. But then someday you’ll have the best rest of your life, and you won’t even realize it,” he looked down at me. “Trust me, I speak from experience.” 

“I mean, I suppose I have to trust you. I’m paying for you to get rid of this ghost… Which I feel bad about now… Now that I know it’s a little girl,” I sighed as I slumped my shoulders.

“C’mon, we should go see if she’s up there,” Raymond nodded, taking the lead from me and brought us towards the stairs. And just as we made it to the top of the stairs, his hand brushed with mine. I looked over at him with wide eyes. “You don’t have to hold my hand… I’m not that scared,” I laughed as his fingers interlocked with mine. 

“I don’t know how to tell you this…” his voice was low, and he audibly swallowed. 

“Tell me what?” I shivered as a cool shock went down my spine.

“I’m… I’m not holding your hand,” he looked over at me as he slowly lifted his hands. Swallowing roughly, I very slowly looked down at the space between Raymond and I. The ghostly figure of Marjorie standing between us, her hand encased with mine. 

“Fuck!” Raymond and I both screamed at the same time before we both ran towards my bedroom. I slammed the door shut before locking it and pressing my back to it.

“Offering!” Raymond looked at me with wide eyes. I stared at him, feeling my heart jump to my throat from the fear. 

“I-I gave you something,” I stuttered over my words as I vaguely gestured towards the kitchen. 

“Do you have, like, something important to you?” he placed his hands on my shoulders. I swallowed roughly as I looked around my room. A tattered stuffed rabbit sat on my bed. It was something I’ve had since I was little. My dad had given it to me for my 11th birthday. It was the last birthday I had with him before he died. “Something that isn’t a lunch snack.”

“Why do you need something important?” whispering as I asked. My eyes went back to him.

“Marjorie is lost. She’s a disturbed spirit in your home and she needs help crossing over. Giving her something of great importance will help her cross over,” he explained as he kept his eyes on me. I swallowed roughly before nodding.

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll have to look." I stepped away from him as I went deeper into my room. 

“Okay, I need… a mirror,” he turned as he watched me look in my closet. I turned to look at him, my eyebrows raising in confusion. 

“A mirror?” 

 “I need to leave a simple message for her to figure out what she wants or needs. She can give us a message to help us… help her,” he looked over at the mirror by my dresser. My raised eyebrows slowly became furrowed the longer I stared at him. 

“A message?” 

“That’s what I said,” he looked over at me as he went up to the mirror. “Stay here, keep looking for that offering. I’ll be right back,” he pointed at me before exiting my room. 

I was going to have to  pretend that I didn’t have anything of great importance. I wasn’t willing to give up that stuffed rabbit. Not now, not ever. Marjorie was going to have to want something else.  Or she was going to have to become like Casper the Friendly Ghost if she was going to stay here longer. 

The door opened and closed with a soft slam.

“Hey, I have… this,” I held up a book that I got a few years ago from an old friend. It had no real importance to me anymore, but what Raymond and Marjorie won’t know won’t hurt them…. 

I turned around to show Raymond the object, my eyes looking at the cover of the book. When I looked up, I didn’t see Raymond. It was Marjorie that I saw. 

“H-hi Marjorie,” I whispered, lowering the book. She stared at me as she slowly lifted her finger, pointing right at me. “R-Raymond!” I shouted, taking a step back. Marjorie copied my step, except she moved closer to me. “Raymond!” I shouted again, this time a little bit louder. 

Raymond came crashing into the bedroom, looking at me with panic on his face. 

“Oh, I-I see,” he caught himself before he could crash into me or Marjorie. He looked between me and the ghost as he slowly walked towards us. Marjorie’s head turned, her body staying put, to face Raymond before screaming and vanishing. 

“Something tells me this book won’t work,” I lifted the book back up and looked at it. I wrinkled my nose as I looked back at Raymond. He was looking at me, watching me carefully. 

“Do you have anything else? Something more important to you, maybe?” Raymond stepped up to me, his arm extending out to take the book from me. I looked at the book before looking over at the stuffed rabbit. 

“Y-yeah, I do…” I sighed deeply, my shoulders slumping as I walked over to the rabbit. I picked it up and looked down at it. “It’ll be gone forever if I give it to her,” I pushed the ears back before resting my hand on its stomach.

Raymond looked at me, a certain sorrow on his face. “It’s the only way,” he whispered softly. I looked up at him and sighed deeply. 

“How do you know?” 

“When I went down stairs… On the bathroom mirror, she had written stuffed animal,” he stepped up to me, looking down at the rabbit in my hand, “She must’ve left hers behind… and she can’t leave without it,” 

“I…” I stopped, cutting myself off with a deep sigh, “I guess… I guess if it’ll help her, she can… she can have it,” I swallowed roughly and looked back up at Raymond. 

“I’m sorry it has to be this way.” 

I shrugged before looking at the rabbit. “She can have it,” my voice cracked. I wiped my cheek on my shoulder and shook my head. 

“Come on, the quicker we give this to Marjorie, the quicker you can have your home back,” he looked at me with sad eyes. I looked up at him and nodded. Raymond took the lead back down to the dining room, his set up with the ouija board cleaned up and my room was back to normal. 

“Do I just-” I stopped talking when the little girl appeared beside Raymond and I. I looked down at her, watching as she was looking between me and the tattered bear in my hands. 

“She’s waiting for you,” Raymond nodded at the bear. I swallowed roughly before lowering to the ground. 

“H-hi Marjorie,” I smiled at her before holding up the rabbit, “This… This rabbit is super important to me… You take care of him… O-okay?” I held the rabbit closer to her and blinked. 

Marjorie looked at me and nodded lightly before grabbing the rabbit from my hands. I smiled softly as she cuddled the rabbit before vanishing on last time. With a deep sigh, I stood up and looked at Raymond.

“Thank you so much for your services, Raymond,” I smiled sadly at him and nodded, “I’ll uh… You’ll send me a bill?” 

“Don’t worry about it.” Raymond smiled and shook his head. “Happy to help you get rid of your problem,” he spoke as he collected his belongings. 

“Are you sure?” 

“Yeah, really… It’s no problem,” he held his bag over his shoulder, “Hope you finally get a good night’s rest,” he smiled before leaving. I smiled, standing alone in the dark dining room. It took me a long time before I finally moved to get ready for bed. But, when I did get to bed, it was the best night of sleep I’ve had in a very long time.

And, when I woke up the next morning, sitting at the foot of my bed was the rabbit I had given Marjorie the night before.

if you want to be a part of a taglist or have any comments about this one shot, let me know here

#shadow posts stuff #shadow writes stuff #masterlist #raymond wadsworth #raymond wadsworth x reader #raymond wadsworth fanfic #raymond wadsworth fan fic #raymond wadsworth fanfiction #raymond wadsworth fan fiction #suburban gothic fanfic

[slytherinbarnes]

Sub Rosa [71]

xiii. damocles, pt 2 

Pairing: Bellamy Blake x reader

Word Count: 8.9k

Warnings: descriptions of blood, injuries, and killing. death, angst, and sad things. it's still a war, my friends. language.

Summary: Everything comes to a head for a final time as the War for Shallow Valley finally ends, one side coming out victorious once and for all...

a/n: BELIEVE IT OR NOT, THE END OF S5 IS HERE!!! PLEASE LET ME KNOW WHAT YOU GUYS THINK, BECAUSE I LOVE TO HEAR YOUR THOUGHTS!!! the taglist for this series is open! I hope you enjoy, please let me know what you think!!!

previous chapter // season masterlist  // series masterlist

Halfway back to the base camp, Gaia grows even weaker.

Luckily for her, there’s a medkit in the rover, courtesy of Clarke, and you’re able to stitch her up at the very least. You refuse to look at your shoulder until you can sit down with some light, hoping whatever is lodged there isn’t actually making things worse. Everyone else in the rover has minor wounds, but you check them and clean them anyways, keeping yourself busy as you are taken from the frontline of an unwinnable war. 

As soon as Madi pulls up to the edge of camp, you’re surrounded by guns. But given Gaia’s condition, no one cares. Instead, you jump out and swing the door open, and Murphy and Bellamy lift Gaia and run from the rover as you yell, “Little help, little help, we've got wounded!”

You can hear Harper yelling in the distance for people to stand down, preventing all of you from catching another bullet, as Bellamy and Murphy pass off Gaia to those who came to help. You’re about to jog after them to tell Jackson what first aid she’s received in the last few hours, but you hear the front doors of the rover open and Echo and Madi jump out. Madi comes running towards you, and you catch her in a hug, squeezing tight and ignoring the pain in your shoulder, relieved that she’s okay. You pull away to look at her, checking her over, and whisper, “Did she take out the Flame?”

“She threatened to, but no. I’m still the Commander.”

“That’s why you’re here?” Madi nods, and you look at her in disbelief. “Then where’s Clarke? There’s no way she let you come alone.”

“I’m not alone, she sent me to be with you.”

“But she said-”

“Clarke says a lot of things when she’s upset, but she didn't mean them. She regretted leaving you the second we drove out of Polis, but she was so worried about me that she wouldn't turn back. She’s not here now because she’s trying to make sure McCreary doesn't send missiles into our people.”

You nod and as you’re about to ask another question, you realize that all around you, people are whispering. Madi hears it too, because she starts to look around, noticing that a large group has gathered around you, and they’re all staring at your niece. You can see Madi freeze in fear, and you grab her hand and squeeze it as she whispers, “What do I do?”

“Honestly, I don't know, but I’ll be with you the whole time.”

She nods, and you both turn to face Bellamy and Echo, who are walking towards both of you. Before any of you can say anything, Octavia starts to cut through the crowd, and someone yells, “Blodreina is coming! Protect your Commander!”

All around you guns rise in Madi’s defense, and you pull her behind you as you grab your knife from your holster, ready to protect her. Octavia may be your sister, but Madi is your niece, your little sun, and you won’t allow Octavia to hurt her. Bellamy and Echo stand side by side in front of you, blocking Octavia’s path to you, both of them protecting you and Madi. Octavia finally comes to a stop in front of her brother, sword in hand. “Out of my way.”

Bellamy stares his sister down. “O, she saved us.”

From behind you, Madi calls out, “Let her pass!”

You turn and start to argue, but Echo beats you to it, “Heda, that is not a good-”

Madi cuts her off before she can finish. “I said, let her pass.”

You look down at Madi in worry, but she squeezes your hand in reassurance, nodding at you that she’s okay. So you drop her hand and step slightly to the side. As soon as Echo and Bellamy see you move, they do too, allowing Octavia access to the Commander. Madi and Octavia stare at each other for a long moment, and your hand tenses around the handle of your knife, ready to protect Madi no matter what. But then, Octavia surprises all of you by stabbing her sword into the sand, and dropping to her knees in front of Madi. Madi looks over at you in surprise, and you smile at her before dropping to your knees, bowing to the Commander.

All around you, guns are lowered and people sink to the ground, paying their respects to the one true Commander, all of you ready for her to lead you into victory and take you home.

-

As soon as everyone is in agreement to follow Madi, the next phase of the war begins.

You, Bellamy, and Echo put your awkwardness aside and work to help Madi with the army. Miller steps up and fills her in on Wonkru’s surviving numbers and who is situated where, and within a few hours, plans are in place and everyone goes off to get everything ready. You, Bellamy, and Madi go to the medial tent so that Madi can be with her Flamekeeper, while you decide to finally address the object in your shoulder. Jackson sees you staring at it as soon as you step in the tent, and walks over and offers to help you, which you graciously accept. With a little bit of light and the proper medical supplies, Jackson removes the object from your shoulder, and stares at it in horror as soon as it’s free. You’re blinking against the pain, missing Jackson’s expression, but Bellamy alerts you to it when he worriedly asks, “What? What is it?”

“It’s a piece of bone.”

Your eyes fly open. “Bone? From me?”

“I don't think so. You have full mobility of your arm, so I don't think you broke anything. I’d have to feel around to be sure, since we don’t have any machines here.”

You nod, “Do it.”

It hurts like hell, but he pokes and prods every inch of your arm from your collarbone to the ends of your fingers, finding nothing cracked or broken. Which gives you the sickening realization that the bone is someone else’s, lodged into your shoulder. When you think back to the explosion, you can remember a group of people nearby, who took the brunt of the force from the explosion, and you’re almost sure it came from one of them. Though it doesn't make you feel any better to know that. Still, there is nothing you can do about it now. Jackson stitches you up and sends you on your way, but you end up falling asleep in the medical tent, keeping an eye on Madi. 

When you wake, she’s still there, though Bellamy is now gone, likely double checking any preparations that you weren't awake to check on. Sure that he has it handled, you pull up a chair beside Madi and sit with her and Gaia until Bellamy and Indra come into the medical tent sometime later, looking for you both. Bellamy comes to a stop beside you, and Indra walks to Gaia’s other side, both looking your way. Bellamy whispers, “It’s time, Madi. Everyone will follow you, but you have to lead them.”

Madi acknowledges his words and looks at you in fear. “I don't want to lead them into a massacre.”

Indra tries to reassure her by saying, “We have the numbers, Heda. As long as we press forward, we'll make it through.”

You reach out for her hand and whisper, “We’ll be right beside you.”

“I'm not worried about myself. There has to be a better way than rushing back into those guns.”

“If there is, we would've thought of it.”

You give her a look, unsure what to say, not nearly as good at reassuring her as Clarke is. But it turns out your help isn't needed, because Gaia whispers, “Ask the Commanders.”

You all look at Gaia in shock, given that these are the first words she’s spoken in hours. Madi asks, “How, Seda? They only talk to me in my dreams and show me what they want me to see.”

Gaia lifts her hand and rests it on Madi’s cheek. “Close your eyes.”

Beside you, Bellamy shifts and mutters, “Gaia, we don't have time-”

But you look at him and shake your head. “We’ll make time. Everyone can wait.”

He nods and Gaia continues, “Breathe. In and out. Let this world peel away. And repeat after me: mens mea fiat mens tua.”

My mind is your mind. Madi repeats the phrase, lurching slightly in place as the Commanders begin speaking to her. You can see her eyes moving rapidly beneath her closed lids, until she pulls them open abruptly, and turns to you. “I have a plan.”

Gaia reaches into her pocket and grabs something, holding it out to Madi as she whispers, “Of course you do.”

As soon as Madi takes it, you realize it’s the Heda headpiece, the same one that Lexa used to wear before her death. Madi puts it on her head and then turns to look at the rest of you. “Gather the delegates.”

You do as she says, meeting with her in the makeshift war room as she explains the plan to all of you. A small team will go ahead of the army, you included, and take out the sonic cannons, making it easier for the rest of Wonkru to get into the gorge. Then the plan moves back to the original plan; everyone will come together and surround the village, diverging upon it from all sides and forcing the prisoners to surrender. As soon as the delegates understand the plan, they assimilate into their groups, passing along the information and getting their warpaint ready. Everyone has a line of black in the middle of their foreheads, reminiscent of the line of Nightblood drawn on Commanders during their Ascension, reminding everyone they’re part of the Commander’s Army now. 

As you put your warpaint on, you turn to look at Madi. “Are you sure you want me on that team to take out the cannons? I can stay with you instead.”

“I’m sure. You’re one of the best shooters we have and everything hinges on you taking those cannons out.”

You nod, understanding her reasoning, before you pull her into a hug. “I’m so proud of you, little sun.”

“Thank you for everything, ani.” You nod and smile, pulling away to look at her. And then you stand and nod at her, “It’s time for you to take us home.”

-

Emori drives the rover through the gorge as Murphy rides shotgun. You and Bellamy are in the back, rifles in hands, riding your way into the heart of danger. Murphy peeks out the windshield and looks up to the sky, muttering, “I don't see any missiles. Thank you, Clarke.”

Bellamy gives you a serious look and then nods once. “Now it's our turn.”

You nod in return, as ready as you’ll ever be, waiting as Emori gets you closer and closer to the cannons. And as if you cross an invisible barrier, the gunshot begins, hammering the rover from all sides, pinging off the armor and leaving all of you inside unscathed. Murphy turns to look at you and Bellamy, “Someone explain to me why I'm not shooting this gatling gun.”

“This is Madi's plan, we have to draw out the cannons.”

He looks at you like you’re crazy. “By giving them a big target? Yeah, that's a great plan.”

You think of what Monty said to you before magically picking a lock with a magnet and you pass that onto to Murphy. “Ye of little faith.”

Nearly as soon as the words leave your mouth, the rover lurches and slides, and then abruptly comes to a stop. Murphy turns to you with a raised eyebrow. “You were saying?”

“What's wrong? We're not close enough. Why are we stopping?”

“They got the engine. Damn it!” Emori climbs from the driver’s seat into the back beside Bellamy, calling out, “John, get away from the windshield!”

Murphy looks out the window and turns to look between you and Bellamy. “Big gun! Go! Now! Be heroes.”

You and Bellamy look at each other, nodding that you’re ready, and you have enough time to take one deep breath before he kicks open the door and you both peek out. You turn your attention to the cannon in the right pillbox, the one currently being charged to blast you all to pieces, and Bellamy swings out to take a shot before immediately ducking back inside the rover again. “I don't have a shot!”

You peek from your side, peering down your rifle scope to the cannon, very few bullets coming your way and you call back, “I do!”

You take a breath to control your heart rate, pulling air in through your nose and out through your mouth as you aim. On the second breath you squeeze the trigger, sending your bullet right into the mouth of the cannon, causing an instant explosion. You duck back behind the rover, smiling at Bellamy, and he gives you a look of pride before yelling to Murphy, “I need to get closer!” 

“Go, I'll cover you!”

Murphy climbs back into the front, preparing to shoot the gun on the rover, and you can hear Emori worry and try to stop him. But he pushes on and starts to shoot, laying down covering fire for you and Bellamy to cross the gorge to a stack of rocks nearby. He looks at you and you yell over the sound of the gunfire, “I'll be right behind you!”

He takes off running and you follow close on his heels, both of you dropping down behind the stack of rocks and taking cover. Bellamy props his gun up, aiming at the second cannon, and you joke, “If you miss, I'll never let you live it down.”

Bellamy turns to you with a smirk that leaves you feeling breathless. “I won't miss.”

And then he turns back to his rifle, aims, takes a breath, and shoots. His bullet follows the same journey yours did, flying into the mouth of the cannon and blowing it up instantly. You and Bellamy turn to each other, laughing with relief, the hardest part of the plan finished. You both turn and peer through your scopes, watching as the prisoners run away, retreating into the village, as the sound of Wonkru grows closer. You can hear them yelling as they run towards you, a stampede of angry warriors, and you and Bellamy stand and watch them come around the corner. You jump into the group, running beside Madi and Octavia, the four of you leading the charge into the woods, surrounding the village.

Everyone splits off into their respective groups, surrounding from all sides, and you and Bellamy stick close to Madi as she leads the main group straight through the front door. A low cloud of smoke and fog hangs around, concealing all of you from the prisoners until you burst through it, heading straight into the village. The prisoners are all cowered in the center, holding up weapons, and as soon as they come into view, Bellamy yells, “Weapons down! Put your weapons down now!”

All the prisoners begin to toss their weapons and drop to their knees, lifting their hands in surrender, and you feel a wave of relief that this is all over, until Madi yells, “Teik emo au!”

Kill them all! You look at Bellamy in shock and he yells, “Halt! Hold your fire.”

At the same time, you step in front of Madi, blocking her view of the prisoners, but she peers around you to glare at them. “They surrendered, Madi, it's over.”

“They killed hundreds of our people in that gorge.”

You shake your head at her, her eyes never leaving the people behind you. “This can't be what the Flame is telling you to do!”

“I don't need the Flame to tell me what to do with a bunch of criminals who invaded our home!”

“We've been here before, Madi.” Finally, her gaze shifts to you, and you can see her start to soften almost immediately, remembering the stories you and Clarke used to tell her. Though, they aren't stories, they’re your history. Your life story. “We were the criminals, the 100. We landed in someone else's home, and we went to war. You can execute them because they're the enemy or you can break the cycle. You can be better than them, you can be better than us. The choice is yours, Heda.”

Madi looks at you, about to answer, until sirens start to echo throughout the valley. All of you look around in confusion, and you turn towards the prisoners, aware that they’re the ones that set up the warning system. “What is that?”

A man near the front answers, “The evac signal! It means conditions are unsafe, we're supposed to bug out!”

Raven’s voice comes through the speakers a second later, “Everyone, listen up. Life as we know it is about to end, again. Get your asses to the transport ship now for immediate evacuation, you have nine minutes!”

You turn to look at Madi, still waiting for her decision, and she nods. You pass along her message and yell, “Everyone, evacuate now! Eligius, leave your weapons behind! Wonkru, follow Eligius to the transport now!”

Everyone immediately jumps into action, and you grab Octavia, who is standing nearby. “Take a team and go door to door, make sure no one gets left behind.”

She grabs a few people and takes off running, and you turn to Madi, about to tell her that you’re ready to follow her to the ship. As your gaze swings towards her, it lands on your house, the one you planned to share with Bellamy, and you suddenly remember that you left something inside, something as important to you as the necklace around your neck and the people beside you. You turn to Madi and smile at her. “It’s time to lead your people. Take Bellamy with you, I’ll be right behind you.”

Both Bellamy and Madi look at you in alarm, instantly arguing, “Ani, no-”

“...not leaving you behind-”

You cut them both off, looking at Madi first. “Your people need you, Madi. You’re their Commander, you need to go.”

And then you turn to Bellamy, “I’ll be right behind you, I promise. Just take Madi, make sure she makes it to the ship.”

You can see him open his mouth to argue again, and you cut him off, voice begging, “Please.”

And finally, he nods. He presses a kiss to your lips and turns to Madi, “Come on, Heda.”

Their gazes linger on you for a moment before they turn and run out of the village, pulling ahead to lead the others to the transport ship. As soon as you’re sure they’re going to make it, you turn and head towards the small house, hand reaching out to push the door open when shouting from the church makes you pause and listen, sure that you’re hearing Octavia’s voice battling with your mother’s. Your brows pull together and you turn away from your door, running deeper into the village and straight into the church. When you burst inside, you see your mother and Octavia facing off, standing only a few feet apart, glaring at each other.

Your mom has blood streaked all over her face, and when you get a look at the scene behind her, you can see why. Someone is stretched out onto the operating table, surrounded by blood. You can see large red stains covering their shirt, the table, the floor around them. Only when you get closer do you realize you know the person on the table. 

Kane.

Your stomach drops, and you run past the arguing pair straight to his side. “Mom, what the hell happened?”

“Vinson happened.”

You see her motion to a body in the corner, and your stomach flips when you glance down at it. She cooked him alive using the shock collar at his neck, eerily similar to the nightmare you had after getting knocked out yesterday. You turn away from the body and look back to Kane, fear and sadness gripping your chest when you realize just how bad he is. He’s clearly lost a lot of blood, and it’s not hard to see why. There is a collection of stab wounds on his abdomen, freshly stitched, along with a stitched wound on the side of his neck. You turn to your mother, trying to calculate if there’s enough time to carry him to the transport, when you hear the P.A. system outside announce, “Six minutes to impact.”

You run the numbers in your head, and decide that Kane is worth the risk. You look between Octavia and your mother and start giving them instructions. “Mom, get him ready to move. You can save his life on the transport ship. Octavia, find a stretcher, you’re going to help carry him back. I’ll grab a few prisoners to help you both.”

They both look at you in shock for a second, and you feel a rush of anxiety, thinking of the ticking clock, before you yell, “Now!”

They both jump into action, and you run out of the church and into the village, grabbing two prisoners and leading them back with you. By the time you arrive, the two women have gotten Kane on the stretcher and ready to go, and you motion for the men to carry him. They lift him up and head towards the door, your mom following closely as she carries an IV bag at Kane’s side, and you squeeze her shoulder as she walks past. “I’ll be right behind you.”

“Wait!” The men stop, and your mom turns to look at you in a panic. “You’re not coming with us?”

“Not yet, I have something I need to do first, now go!” She looks like she wants to argue, but then Kane groans in pain, reminding her of the danger he’s in, and she tells the men to keep moving, leaving you behind. Octavia lingers, and you shake your head and point at their retreating figures. “I need you to make sure they make it back, I’m not sure I trust the prisoners yet.”

Octavia nods, and surprises you by pulling you into a quick hug, whispering in your ear, “Run fast, sister.”

You nod, thankful that she understands and is not going to argue with you, and she gives you a brief smile before running out the door and following your mother. The system outside announces, “Five minutes to impact.”

The words push you into motion again, aware that it’s a two to three minute run to the transport ship from here. You run out of the church and back towards your home, pushing open the door and moving through the house to the bedroom, smiling when you see The Iliad laying on the bed waiting for you. You reach out and grab it, turning and preparing to head out the door again when you see a prisoner looming in the doorway to the bedroom, staring at you. You look at him in confusion and point towards the door, “Didn’t you hear the evac signal? We have to go!”

You walk towards him, intending to push past him and get out the door, but he grabs you by the hair and yanks you back, tossing you onto the ground. You drop your book upon impact, looking up at the man in shock. He starts to lumber towards you, and you reach for your rifle, secured around your chest by a strap, but just as you get it up, ready to shoot, he reaches out and grabs it, yanking it hard from your grasp, breaking the clasp that connects the gun to the strap. He tosses the gun into the other room, and you jump up and try to run past him, but he grabs the strap that is still hanging around your torso and pulls, forcing you back towards him. He slides the strap up until it hangs around your neck, and you feel a brief wave of panic before he pulls it taut, choking the life out of you quickly. You claw at the strap, trying to free yourself, struggling to breathe as you gasp out, “We aren’t enemies anymore!”

“Wrong.” He pulls the strap tighter, stars erupting at the edge of your vision. “You and I are enemies. You killed my brother. You left him to die in your savage trap and his wounds were too severe to survive. I had to end his suffering myself.”

You remember the blonde man in the trap, and you do feel a flash of remorse for getting him killed, until your survival instinct takes over, reminding you how close to death you truly are. You pull your knife from your holster and quickly plunge it into his side, and the man cries out in pain before tossing you to the ground, your head hitting the floor as you land again. You can feel your head wound from earlier reopen, warm, black blood dripping down your face, and the man looks down at you, laughing as he pulls your knife from his side and tosses it into the other room, alongside your rifle. You eye the doorway, trying to figure out if you can make it to your gun before he can reach you, but the P.A. system outside calls out, letting you know you have four minutes left. You think of the time it will take you to make it back to the transport ship, and you take a chance and start running to the door, hoping you make it to one of your weapons. 

As you make it through the doorway, the man reaches out for you, grabbing you briefly before losing his grip, but the movement is enough to knock you off balance. You fall to the ground hard, teeth clacking together, but you ignore the pain in your body, scrambling towards your weapons. Just as your hand closes around your knife, you feel a blade plunge into your calf, and you let out a cry of pain. He uses the knife in your leg to drag you closer to him, the weapon cutting down your calf painfully, and you scream in pain as you’re dragged backwards. His hand clamps down onto your ankle and he yanks you back towards him, flipping you over quickly before reaching his hands up to your neck. This time you don’t wait for the stars of unconsciousness to get close to you. You lift the knife that’s still in your grip and you plunge it into the man’s chest, pushing it into him as hard and deep as you can. 

His eyes go wide and he releases you instantly, blood rapidly spreading across his chest, letting you know you hit his heart. He’s dead within seconds, and you divert your attention away from him and to the injury on your leg. It’s deep and gushing blood, and you desperately need stitches, but the P.A. system lets you know you have three minutes until impact, so you waste no time thinking about your odds of survival. You use your knife to cut a strip of fabric from the dead prisoner’s pants, and you use the rifle strap to secure it tightly over the wound, hoping it’s enough to get you to the ship. Then you run into the bedroom and grab your book, determined not to leave it behind at this point, before hobbling out of the room and past the dead man. You look down at him for a second before you kick him with your good leg, screaming with rage as you do, pissed at the position he has just put you in.

At the last second you grab the knife he cut you with and tuck it into your pocket, and then without another thought you head out the door of your house, running as fast as you can and as hard as you can towards the transport ship. You count the seconds in your head, trying to keep track of your dwindling time, ignoring the blood that drips down your face and tries to fall in your eyes. You ignore the pain radiating from multiple places on your body, and you ignore the exhaustion that threatens to creep up and take you out. You just focus on counting, letting your anxiety push you faster than you thought possible, guiding you back towards the transport ship, to your love, your twin, and your family. 

As you get closer to the edge of the woods, you hear a sonic boom, and you look up at the sky, anxiety growing exponentially. You start praying to the Universe, the gods, the stars, your father, anyone that will listen to you. “Just let me make it, god damn it! Get me back on that ship with my family, and I’ll make things right. I’ll do better, be better! I’ll forgive Clarke, and Octavia, and anyone who’s wronged me! I’ll leave Wanlida behind, just please get me to that ship!”

The Universe answers your prayer with a flash of light, and you look up to see the end of the world drawing closer as it streaks across the sky. You start to think that maybe the Universe is laughing at your expense, playing a cruel joke, when you suddenly burst through the trees and see the transport ship looming into view. Bellamy and Clarke are both standing at the edge of the ramp, eyes searching the horizon for you, and you scream their names at the top of your lungs as you run towards them, letting your adrenaline carry you closer. They run to you, panic and worry all over their faces, as you look exponentially worse than the last time either of them saw you. But with the end of the world flying towards you, neither of them question it. They each hook and arm around you and take off running, practically dragging you up the ramp and into the ship. 

Clarke releases you to turn and close the door to the ship, and your body finally collapses, no energy left within you. You feel Bellamy catch you and lower you down beside Murphy, who looks just as awful as you do, both of you glancing at each other as you groan in pain. You feel unconsciousness rush towards you, just as you hear the roar of the thrusters as the ship prepares to leave. Suddenly, you’re back on a satellite tower, staring at a death wave that's set to destroy you in seconds, watching a rocket fly into the sky. Except this time, instead of being left on the ground, you fly with them.

-

You wake up a few hours after passing out, stitched up and lying in a hospital bed on the Eligius IV mothership. Bellamy and Clarke are both at your side, and all of you start to cry as soon as you wake up. You hug them both, thankful for their survival, and you and Clarke exchange a myriad of whispered apologies as you cry and hold each other. The Universe got you on the transport ship, so as promised, you make your amends, all of your anger gone as soon as you hug. Clarke eventually leaves you and Bellamy alone, and he gives you a scolding look as he holds up a book in his hand. “You went back for this?”

You feel a little embarrassed now as you look at the book in his hands, the cover now streaked with some of your black blood, aware of how insane it must seem to risk death for a book. But it’s important to you, as important as the moon around your neck, which you brush your fingers across as you answer, “Yes. But that book helped get me through the last 6 years without you. It was the only thing I had from you, and I couldn’t leave it behind.”

His expression softens, remembering the note that he wrote to you in the cover. When he wrote it, he had no way of knowing what was coming, no way of knowing the importance it would have to you. He can recognize that now, though you know that he’ll never truly understand why you’d risk death for it. Because for Bellamy, he would much rather have you alive and without the book, then dead with the book. And considering the state that you returned to him in, you know he’s more than a little pissed. If you hadn’t come across that prisoner and got back with plenty of time, you don’t think he’d really mind. Still, you are here and you’re mostly okay. And if he still thinks it was a stupid thing to do, he doesn’t argue with it, too thankful that you’re here with him and alive. 

You smile at him, patting the bed beside you, urging him to climb in with you. Unlike the last time, he complies immediately, squeezing into the bed beside you, listening to the story of how you nearly died in Shallow Valley. You pull the prisoner’s knife from your pocket, getting a good look at it for the first time. It’s small and silver, nicer than your Grounder knife, clearly from the days before the first Praimfaya. At the end of the handle is a skull, angry and grinning, and fire is etched into the handle, wrapping up towards the blade. You add it to your collection of ‘confiscated knives that nearly got you killed’, hoping that this is the last knife you’ll ever add to the collection, growing tired of all your near death experiences. 

At some point you fall asleep again, exhausted, and when you wake, Bellamy is gone, your twin now at your side. She smiles at you and you sit up and smile back. “Hey.”

“Hey.”

You remember Murphy bleeding out beside you as you passed out, and you ask, “How's Murphy?”

“Jackson got both bullets. He'll be okay, cockroaches are hard to kill.” You smile and she adds, “And Gaia's gonna keep her leg.”

“Good.” Your mind flashes to the father figure you found clinging to life in the church, fear squeezing your chest. “What about Kane?”

“They put him in a drug induced coma. I'm not sure why, but Jackson says there's not enough of the drug to keep him that way for long. It doesn't look good.”

“What if he didn't need the drug?” She looks at you in confusion as you remember the cryosleep pods Bellamy told you about earlier. “I don't know much about cryosleep, but at least it would keep him alive, right?”

“That's brilliant, I'll tell mom.” Her eyes lift to the door briefly before she looks back to you. “We're about to decide the fate of the human race. Again. You should be there.”

You nod, already pulling yourself out of your bed, and Clarke helps you, handing you a crutch as you get to your feet. Normally you’d hate to use it, but the pain in your calf screams at you each time you shift your weight to your right leg. The two of you head down the hall, past the groups of prisoners and Wonkru that lay sleeping, exhausted from the events of the last few days. Clarke grabs your free hand, turning to look at you as she apologizes again. “I’m sorry, la lune, for everything.”

“I’m sorry too, shining star.”

She smiles at you, tears in her eyes, and you’re reminded of the strength of the bond you share. You may make mistakes, you may hurt each other, and fight, but at the end of the day, you’re sisters, twins, and Clarke will always be your other half. You know she feels the same way about you, because she squeezes your hand, conveying the silent message, and you both exchange a smile as she leads you through the ship to the bridge, preparing to decide the fate of the human race once again.

-

When you and Clarke get there, everyone else is already in the room. Harper, Monty, Bellamy, Madi, Raven, Shaw, Echo, Emori, and Murphy. 

They all turn to you as you enter, and you see Bellamy smile at your conjoined hands, glad that one of you has reconciled with their sibling. He walks over to you and keeps close, ready to offer you assistance if you need it. Both you and Clarke look at the large window in the room, opened up to see Earth, the explosion taking over the planet and scorching it to nothing. Sadness grips your heart as you think of the home that’s lost to you, the valley, wiped from the planet. Your house with the window to the sky destroyed. 

You and Clarke settle beside Bellamy, and you shift most of your weight to your crutch as Shaw pushes a button to close the window, hiding the destroyed Earth from view. Bellamy turns to address the room, his hand resting on the small of your back, reminding you of his support. “Like our ancestors on the Ark, we're the last of the human race.”

You add, “Our ancestors were wrong. We're not.”

Bellamy nods and lays out the situation for everyone. “412 people on this ship. Thanks to Madi, we saved who could be saved. Now it's our job to keep them alive. How do we do that?”

“Algae?”

Murphy instantly balks at Raven’s suggestion, “Oh, float me now.”

You can’t help but agree, dreading the idea of living off algae for however long it takes. Shaw seems to be on the same page, because he looks to Bellamy and points to the control center in front of him. “Can I?”

Bellamy nods, and Shaw begins, “From what we know about the half life of hythylodium, it'll be at least 10 years before that valley comes back. This ship does have a small water recycler and a few weeks' worth of rations, but that's it. Cryo is the only option. There are 500 pods, which is more than enough for what we need.”

Raven instantly agrees, placing her hand on Shaw’s shoulder. You eye them, noting their closeness, smiling as you realize there must be something between them. “I agree with Shaw. The tech is amazing. We go to sleep, we don't age, we wake the next morning, It's 10 years later. And Bob's your uncle.”

Monty laughs, “I thought you hated that phrase.”

“It's growing on me.”

You turn to Madi, the leader of your group, and shrug. “It's up to you, Madi.”

She looks at you, then Clarke, who nods her agreement with the plan. Madi thinks for a long minute, considering her answer before she decides, “Okay, I guess it's time for bed.”

-

With the decision made, the mass bedtime begins. 

You send the prisoners back to cryo first, all of their pods already programmed and ready for them. Next, it takes a while, but you work on Wonkru, programming the pods for each person and then putting them to sleep. Before you know it, you’re down to a handful of people, everyone saying their goodnights to their loved ones before getting put to bed. Clarke stands next to Madi’s pod, and you stand on the other side, looking down at your niece. She’s dressed down in her Eligius clothes, all of you are, and her hair is out of her signature braids, flowing long and sweeping across her back. You pull Madi into a hug, leaning back to smile at her. “You’re a good Heda, little sun. I’ll see you on the other side.”

“I love you, ani.”

“I love you too.” 

And then you look at Clarke, nodding at her, stepping away to give her a moment with Madi. You work on preparing your pod, situated between Bellamy and Clarke’s, leaning against the outstretched bed to keep the weight off your injured leg. You glance to your left, where Bellamy stands near Octavia’s pod, saying his goodnights to her. You program your name into your pod before checking the cubby beside your bed, double checking that your belongings are still inside. Your clothes and shoes, two knives, and one yellow book with blue binding. You smile at everything and close the cubby door, as Bellamy closes the pod on Octavia and Clarke closes the pod on Madi. You turn to face your twin first as she walks over to you. Both of you hug, and when you pull away you whisper, “I love you, Clarke.”

“And I love you.” You feel worry creep into you, wondering if this will actually work. Clarke senses this and smiles, “It’ll feel like no time at all. There’s nothing to worry about.”

You nod and she glances over your shoulder, eyes landing on someone, and you're sure it’s Bellamy. She smiles at you and steps away, giving you two space, just as Bellamy wraps his arms around you from behind, tucking his chin into the crook of your neck. “I hope we dream.”

“If we do, I’ll dream of you.”

Bellamy spins you in his arms, careful of your injuries, until you’re facing him, a goofy smile on his face. “Really?”

“Really.”

He pulls you in for a kiss, soft and sweet, and your body lights up at his touch. Everything about Bellamy makes you feel alive, his love for you making you feel immortal, swimming amongst the stars, spreading light in your wake. Bellamy pulls away and looks down at you, and you can see a flash of worry pass over his face, similar to the one you just had, and you reach up to put your hand on his cheek. “We’ll be okay.”

“Will you still be here when I wake up?”

You nod, smiling at him as you remember the fear you both share. A fear that you likely didn’t help when you almost didn’t make it to the transport ship in time. “Of course I will.”

“I love you.”

“I love you more than the stars.”

He smiles at you, the words making him feel light, as if he’s weightless, carried by your love for him. “In this lifetime and in the next.”

You finish, “Forever.”

The two of you look at each other, mapping your features, memorizing every line and freckle of his face as he memorizes yours. And only when you’re finished, when you feel like you could draw Bellamy from memory, do the two of you pull apart and head to your cryo chambers. Clarke sets the controls for you, vowing to be the last one awake, and you smile at her before turning to look at Bellamy, both of your eyes locked on each other as you are pulled inside the chamber and the glass closes down on you. The last thing you see before you fall into a deep sleep, are Bellamy’s eyes on you, and a grin across his face, lulling you into a sense of security before you slip under.

-

Your first breath out of cryo feels like the best one you've ever taken. 

You blink your eyes open, your gaze falling on a figure beside you. 

Clarke.

She stands at our side, smiling down at you, and you sit up, looking around. “Why are we the only ones awake?”

“We aren’t, there’s one more.”

You look at her in confusion, and she points to Bellamy’s pod as it slides out and opens. You hop out of your pod and hobble over to him, still injured, and you smile down at him, your face the first thing he sees when he wakes. He immediately smiles back at you, stretching as he sits up, and kisses you softly, careful of your lingering injuries, frozen in time by cryo. When he pulls away, you watch his eyes move from you to Clarke, his expression pulling into one of contusion. “Why is it just us?”

A voice from behind answers, “That's the way Mom and Dad wanted it.”

The three of you turn to look towards the voice in shock, eyes landing on a boy about your age. You don't recognize him, which is strange, because he looks familiar. “Can I just say, wow. I mean, I can't tell you how good it is to finally meet you. Weird but good. Great, actually.”

The three of you walk towards the boy, and Bellamy asks, “Who are you?

“My name. Right. I didn't tell you my name. Sorry. I've never met anyone before, so, I clearly suck at it.” You all give him a strange look, not understanding his rambling, and he finally says, “I'm Jordan, Monty and Harper's son.”

The information hits you like a train, and you exchange a look with Bellamy and Clarke, the realization hitting you first. “They didn't go to sleep.”

Jordan confirms, “They talked about their time on the ring a lot. Too much, actually. How happy they were there. I guess they wanted to get back to that. Get dressed and come to the bridge. Dad left explicit instructions, wake the trio first, play them the message.”

He starts to walk away, but Clarke calls out, “Hey, wait. How long were we asleep?”

“125 years.”

You all exchange a shocked look, none of you expecting that to be his answer. As soon as he turns to leave the room, the three of you head to the drawers that hold your belongings and change obscenely fast, none of you even bothering to change in different rooms for some semblance of privacy. Once you’re dressed, you all practically run to the bridge, Bellamy and Clarke helping you along, all of you eager to find out what the hell is going on. As soon as Jordan sees the three of you and knows you’re ready, he walks over to a control panel and presses play, and a video pops up on the screen in front of you.

There sits Monty, looking the same as when you saw him last. “Hey, guys, it's been about a year since you all went to bed. Not much to report, really. My algae farm is awesome, no surprise there. I'm able to monitor conditions on the ground using the ship's geologic equipment, so, I'll know when it's safe for us to go back down. Gets a little lonely sometimes without the rest of you, but the peace and quiet is what-”

He gets cut off by Harper stepping into frame, scantily dressed, “Monty, I've been waiting.”

“Harper, wait. I'm in the middle of-”

She cuts him off, leaning in to kiss his neck. “You promised me. We have another 40 staterooms that-”

She turns and finally notices that Monty is recording a message, and she dives off screen, laughing, “Why didn't you tell me?”

Monty looks embarrassed as he shrugs, “Uh...not a lot to do in space.”

And then he ends the transmission as Jordan quips, “I so didn't need to see that.”

The next transmission begins with Monty blocking the camera, but when he steps back, you can see Harper, clearly pregnant, a huge grin on her face. Monty comes to stand beside her and put his arm around her. “Hey, again. Today's the two year anniversary of the long nap, and Harper's been eating a little too much algae.”

“Hilarious.” She turns her adoring gaze away from Monty to address the three of you with a smile. “Hey, guys, um, surprise. We picked a name today. Boy or girl: Jordan.”

You feel emotion reach up and grab your chest, sitting heavy, as you think of the boy with the goggles, a smile always on his face. You glance at Bellamy, and you can see the emotion on his face too, and one look at Clarke confirms that all three of you are affected by the news. On screen, Monty continues, “I think Jasper would like that. Anyway, still no sign the ground is coming back. I wouldn't expect it this soon, so, I'm not worried. We'll check back in next time there's news.”

The screen cuts out for just a second, and the next time it comes back on, a baby is held up to the camera, held in his grinning dad’s arms. The three of you glance at Jordan as Monty announces, “Meet Jordan Jasper Green.”

He cuddles his son close and smiles down at him before looking at the camera. “That's all for now. Harper's resting. We're both good, though. He'll be eight when you meet him, I can't wait to see your faces.”

At the announcement of Jordan's age when you’re supposed to meet him, all of you look towards him again, clearly much older than 8. Sensing this, he turns to look at you and nods. “Things didn't go as planned.”

The next transmission begins, and Monty is back on the screen, looking older, this time alone. “Happy wake up day, 10 years. And since you're watching this sometime in the future, you know now that...that I didn't wake you up. That's because there's still nothing down there. I'm working on the problem. I've told Harper it's to be expected, but, well, that's a lie. This is gonna take a while. Jordan is doing great, though. He's a happy kid. I took a page from Clarke and la lune’s parenting book. He knows all about you guys. Believe it or not, Murphy's his favorite.”

You laugh a little, and Jordan defends himself, “It was a rebellious phase.”

You all turn your attention back to Monty, who finishes, “Anyway, It's gonna be a while. I'll let you know if things change.”

The next transmission begins with Monty and Harper both on screen. They’re much older now, Monty’s hair long and going gray, Harper’s hair is shorter and turning the same light color. Monty’s arms are around her, and they’re both looking into the camera, heartbroken. “Hey, guys. It's been a long time since we recorded one of these. We just put Jordan in cryo. He's a good boy.”

Harper glances at Monty. “Smart like his father.”

Monty counters, “And kind like his mom.” He takes a deep breath and continues, “We chose this life, he didn't. If you're watching this, kiddo, we love you so much. Did you follow my instructions?”

Jordan nods, tears welling up in his eyes, as his dad says, “Assuming he did. Hey you three. We wanted him to wake you first so we could talk. Earth...isn't coming back. You've been asleep for over 28 years and it's as dead as the day we left. I'm working on a plan B, though. If you're awake, that means I found it. I'll see you again when I do.”

Monty reaches for the camera, about to turn it off, but Harper stops him. “Wait, not yet.” And then she looks right into the camera, right at you, Bellamy, and Clarke. “Take care of our boy.”

You all nod, despite the fact they can't see you, but the heartbreak of the transmissions only gets worse. The next time Monty appears on screen, all of his hair is white, and he’s much older than before. His appearance is a shock, and you see Bellamy and Clarke both look at your friend in surprise. “Jordan...your mother died today. She was pretty sick the last few years. Clarke, you were right, her dad's genetic condition finally got her.”

At this point, all three of you are crying, tears falling down your faces as you mourn the loss of Harper. You see Clarke shift beside you, and you reach out to take her hand, knowing she finds no comfort in being right about Harper’s condition. On screen, Monty continues, “We had a good life. Sometimes...I know she wanted to be with you guys. Maybe I did too, but if we did that, I wouldn't be able to show you this. Son.”

Jordan takes the direction, hitting a button to slide open the viewing screen, Earth coming into view. The sun lights it up from the left, and as you all stare down at it, the swirls of blue and green, Monty continues in the background. “It took me 30 years, but I finally cracked the Eligius III mission file. Turns out it wasn't a mining mission. After sucking the Earth dry of oil, they went looking for another planet to tap.”

Just then, the planet rotates, and a second sun appears, revealing to you that what you’re looking at isn't Earth at all. Your jaw drops in shock, and you remember something Shaw said when he first saw the color of your blood in Shallow Valley. “Two suns, no sunscreen needed.”

Bellamy and Clarke look at you in confusion, but they don't get to ask what you’re talking about because Monty's message continues. “I set the coordinates a week ago. If I'm right, you should get there in 75 years. I'm tempted to put myself in cryo to see it, but without Harper…”

He trails off, heartbroken at the loss of his love. “Anyway, it's in the Goldilocks Zone of a binary star system. But that's all I know. Eligius III never radioed back or, if they did, it was after apocalypse one, so, no one heard it. Can you see it? Is it beautiful?” 

All three of you nod, looking down at the lush planet, and you feel a pang of heartbreak that he isn't here to see it. “It is in my dreams. I hope we do better there. I hope Jasper was wrong and we aren't the problem. I hope your lives there will be as happy as mine has been. Be the good guys. May we meet again.”

And as he says the words, tears fall down your face again. You, Bellamy, and Clarke all whisper back, “May we meet again.”

Bellamy wraps his arm around you and you wrap yours around Clarke, sandwiched between the two most important people in your life, staring down at a planet that isn't Earth. You drop your head onto Bellamy’s chest, and Clarke wraps her arms around you, the three of you linked as you watch the planet rotate, a rush of hope surging through all of you. 

A new planet, a new place to start over, a new life, a new future. 

A place to do better. 

Home. 

-

END BOOK ONE

-

next chapter

#the 100 #the 100 rewrite #bellamy blake #bellamy blake x reader #bellamy blake fanfiction

[bonjour-rainycity]

The Long Way Around ~ Chapter 6

Link to previous part: https://bonjour-rainycity.tumblr.com/post/623283543296049154/the-long-way-around-chapter-5

Pairing: Jasper x Reader

Word count: 1954

Warnings: None

Jasper’s POV

I sigh, trying to concentrate on the papers before me. Once Y/n came into our lives, I had decided to halt my studies at school. She arrived during the summer so it wasn’t like anyone would notice my sudden, and perhaps suspicious, disappearance from class, but my family agreed that we could really only afford for one or two of us to deviate from our cover story. So once classes resumed in the fall, all but I continued attendance at the local university. Once she found out, Y/n had lamented at my loss of education and insisted I continue studying at least something of interest. She didn’t seem to understand how little a year or two out of school would affect me, given how many times I’ve gone through both high school and varying post-graduate degrees. But still, the gesture was kind so I agreed and have sent spent a few hours every day since that conversation brushing up on my world history. Right now I’m camped in the basement where we keep our extensive library (excluding the volumes found in Carlisle’s office and our individual rooms) digging through first-hand accounts of Otto von Bismarck’s rise to influence. It’s interesting enough, but still, my attention is elsewhere. At least half of my focus is upstairs, carefully monitoring Y/n’s moods. She’s become much more even as time passes, but still, not keeping tabs on her makes me nervous. Newborns are so unpredictable and so reliant on their emotions that at any moment, she could react badly and cause herself or someone else harm. It’s not that I don’t trust her, it’s just that I know how this goes. And I would hate myself if anything happened to my family or Y/n, especially if I could have done something to prevent it.

She’s been struggling recently with missing her family and friends, and that’s always difficult. For most of us, we had been immediately taken away from our loved ones plus had been changed during a time when news recordings and social media didn’t exist. Y/n does not have that luxury. At least once a week, she’ll find some news source with reports from her parents or come across a social media page of one of her friends. It breaks her heart. Secretly, I had gone to Carlisle and discussed the benefits of moving. It only adds to Y/n’s pain being only a handful of miles from the people she loves, and perhaps moving away would aid in her healing. But Carlisle shot the idea down, citing our advantageous location and the dangers of moving cross-country with a volatile newborn. So, instead, I sought to distract her. One of the reasons she felt bad about stopping my schooling is because her own had been paused suddenly due to her untimely death. So, I loaned her a few of my old textbooks, which she has been studying relentlessly. Carlisle also offered his services, and it’s not uncommon to find Y/n perched in one of the chairs in his office grilling him about everything under the medical sun. All in all, she’s adjusting well. Still, I worry. At the drop of a dime, her control could slip or her emotions could get the best of her. That’s why, when I feel her switch from a relaxed, curious state to one of annoyance, I take notice, and listen.

“You really need to let your human life go, Y/n. At this point, you’re only dragging out your own pain. There’s nothing you can do about it anyway. That life is as lost to you as your soul.”

Now I feel annoyance at my brother’s predictable morose attitude. Even to this day, Edward grapples with losing humanity and, according to him, his soul, and often pushes those feelings onto others. As far as I can tell, Y/n doesn’t believe vampirism has damned her, and I would like to keep Edward from putting those thoughts in her head. They simply aren’t true.

Y/n responds with a biting tone. “They’re my loved ones, Edward, not yours. Please don’t tell me how to deal with losing them. If you don’t like my thoughts, stay out of my head.”

Rosalie chimes in, always interested in fighting with Edward. “Really, Edward, back off. You’re the one who helped Bella keep her precious humans in our life and risked our exposure, so you’ve no room to talk here.” It was the wrong thing to say. Y/n’s anger flares.

“Hypocrite! That is such a double standard!”

I feel Edward’s anger increase too, and I know they’re filling a keg with powder and readying their matches. I hurry upstairs.

“It’s different. Bella was going through a lot and-”

“And I’m not?” Y/n’s incredulity is plain.

Rosalie scoffs.“What precious Bella wants, she gets. The rest of us are expected to live by a different set of rules.”

“Okay guys, let’s take this down a notch.” Emmett intervenes as I get to the top of the stairs.

“I agree.”

Y/n’s eyes flicker to mine, and I register her guilt. Why?

Whatever’s in her mind causes Edward to scoff. “You’re not bothering him with your emotions, he lives for this stuff. It makes him feel like he has some kind of purpose.”

“You are so pessimistic,” Y/n groans, putting her head in her hands. “Whatever. I am not doing this anymore. I’m going for a walk. Jasper?”

Immediately, I’m at her side, not even needing to think about joining her. It’s just natural, at this point, to be with her.

She smiles tightly as we walk out the back door, and I can tell she’s trying to calm herself down. “Sorry I interrupted your studying.”

I shrug, honestly not bothered at all. “Don’t worry about it. It’s nice to get outside….The leaves are just starting to change.”

Now, her smile becomes much more natural. “Aren’t they gorgeous? It’s even better now that I can see them with these new eyes. And I can hear the crunch when I step on them and the smell of fall is just,” she sighs, a dreamy look in her eye. But then I feel the sadness creep back in.

I’m hesitant to ask, not wanting to upset her further. “Are you alright?”

She bites the inside of her cheek and looks away. When she finally speaks again, her voice is unsteady. “I just really, really miss my family. It’s hard to leave them and come to terms with…what I am. And of course I’m so grateful that I have all of you,—well,” she chuckles darkly, “today I could do without Edward but that’s beside the point.” She trails off, lost in her thoughts.

I look into the horizon, enjoying the light of the setting sun but regretting the added sadness she’s suffered on behalf of my brother. “I’m sorry he upset you. I can talk to him tomorrow-”

“Oh, that’s alright,” she waves a hand, smiling softly. “Isn’t that what you’re supposed to do with your siblings? Argue?”

I chuckle, nodding. We certainly do argue.

She turns to face me then, stopping her walking. “Thank you though.”

The sunlight filters through the trees, hitting our skin and illuminating us. She gasps softly, and I sense her wonderment. She’s seen what the sun does to our skin many times, but it never ceases to amaze her. It’s really sweet. Slowly, she reaches up and lightly trails her fingers over the side of my face where the sun hits. I freeze, not wanting to make any movement that would cause her to stop. I enjoy her touch much more than I would like to admit. It feels so nice to be handled so softly, compared to the harshness I’d become accustomed to in my past. I close my eyes.

“Beautiful,” she breathes, letting her hand fall.

I smile, enjoying this moment. “It is one of the more mesmerizing attributes of this life.”

Now, I feel her playfulness. “You know what else is great? The speed.”

My mood soon matches hers. “Wanna race?”

She frowns, turning in the direction of the house. “Oh, no I think we should-”

And then she’s off, laughing wildly. I shake my head, realizing I’ve just been tricked and, with a laugh of my own, take off at a sprint after her.

{***}

“Jasper,” she starts, sitting down on the rock next to me. “Where are all the other vampires?”

“All over, really, though most tend to avoid especially sunny cities.” I shake water from the river off my hands. A few seconds prior, I’d reached in to grab some pebbles to skip. “We’re the largest coven in the area. Anyone else around here is likely a loner or part of a nomad coven.”

She pauses, thinking. “Doesn’t anyone ever come to visit?”

“Very rarely, and Alice can sometimes give us some warning, though not always. But the nomads that visit usually leave very quickly. We don’t allow them to hunt in this area, as it could raise suspicion and cause problems for us. That tends to make extended stays unappealing.”

“Well, what about friends?”

I smirk. “Vampires don’t really have friends.”

This confuses her. “Then what are you and your family? You’re certainly not just acquaintances.”

I smile, thinking of the best way to explain the complicated relationships between vampires. “Let me rephrase: most vampires don’t have friends. Carlisle theorizes that, because we don’t drink human blood, we’re less animalistic, a little less reliant on our instincts. Instincts that, under normal circumstances, would keep us from forming bonds because other vampires generally pose a threat to getting a meal.” She nods, understanding. “Because we are slightly more, human, for a lack of a better word, we do enjoy friendships and closer relationships, like I have with my adopted siblings. Realistically, though, that’s not how it works at all. For normal vampires, the only type of close relationship they experience is between mates. Those relationships last forever though, so I guess it’s enough to satisfy the need for connection.”

Y/n raises her eyebrows, disbelieving. “You’re telling me immortal vampires are monogamous for life?”

I chuckle. “Apparently, once you find the right one it’s just natural. I’ve seen it happen, felt the feelings they feel. It’s intense.”

She considers this, but says nothing further. Until, “have you ever felt that way?”

Subconsciously, I study the scars on my hands. “I thought I did.”

“With Maria,” she guesses. Y/n knows most of my history, so it’s no surprise that she’s able to put the pieces together of my involvement with Maria. Strangely, I find myself wishing that I could say no, that I’ve never been with with anyone like that. Or, at least, that I’d never been involved with Maria like that.

“Have you,” I counter to distract from my sudden regret.

She shakes her head, a soft smile playing on her lips. “My human memories are fading by the day, but I’m pretty sure the answer is no. My twenty years of life were nothing to write home about.”

Now it’s my turn to smile, somewhat ruefully. “You’ve got millennia ahead of you. I’m sure at least something notable will occur.”

She chuckles, shrugging. “Perhaps. For now, I should just focus on making it through the rest of this year.”

“We’ll get you through it,” I answer, confident.

She hugs her knees into her chest, feeling peaceful. “I believe you.” Then, her playfulness returns. “But step one should be feeding me, because I’m starving.”

I chuckle, stand, and offer her a hand. She grabs it, allowing me to pull her up. “Lead the way.”

A/n Let me know what you thought of this chapter/the characters and if you would like to be added to the tag list! I hope you all have a good day/night <3

xx, 

Bjr

Link to next part: https://bonjour-rainycity.tumblr.com/post/623476978292555776/the-long-way-around-chapter-7

Tag list: @puer-de-infinitate @charliestuff @hindustani-diaspora @one-thread-can-save-a-life @salsameter @enchantedcruelsummer @meashy-moo

#jasper #jasper hale #jasper cullen x yn #jasper whitlock #jasper whitlock hale #jasper twilight #jasper hale fanfiction #jasper twilight fanfiction #jasper hale imagine #japser whitlcok fanficiton #jasper cullen fanfiction #jasper x reader #jasper xx y/n #jasper hale x reader #jasper hale x y/n #jasper cullen x reader #jasper hale slow burn #jasper cullen x you #jasper hale x you #jasper whitlock x you #jasper twilight x you #twilight fanfiction #twilight reader-insert #twilight renaissance

[msmarvelwrites]

The Winter Ghost - Part 16

Info: A Devastating car crash causes you to lose your memory and start over. The only thing left in the wreckage was the horrific nightmares which plagued your mind. If you knew what today would entail you would have just stayed in bed. But you didn’t and because of that, everything you knew was about to change.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

Warnings: swearing, violence, mentions of death, fluff. 

W/c: 2.3 k  

A/n: Welcome back, and Happy Labour Day! We’re winding down here folks, but I’ve got some spicy chapters coming up... Thats all I’m going to say about that. But honestly, the biggest of thank you’s to @cutie1365​ for editing those parts because they were rough. I embarassed myself quite afew times. Anyways, enjoy babes! 

The sun burned into the cabin windows causing the dust that hovered stagnant in the dull room to sparkle. Bucky had tossed and turned for the past few hours, trying to rest his eyes, but it was to no avail. Instead of torturing himself further by counting ceiling planks, he groaned out of bed and shuffled into the kitchen. It appeared he wasn't the only one having trouble sleeping. 

Steve and Wanda hovered over Vision as he sat at the kitchen table, typing into the laptop. 

“Sergeant Barnes, I’ve located Agent L/n” The android spoke, freezing Bucky in his tracks. 

“You found Y/n?” He stumbled over his feet, joining the three of them as he watched the small red dot on the screen blink slowly. There you were. 

“Okay, that's not too far from here. Maybe a half hour right. Keep your comms on, I’ll get packed and head out now-”

“Alone?” Wanda spoke surprised. 

“I can handle a couple of Hydra picks. And I’m not risking what happened to Nat to happen again.” 

“That's not really up to you, jerk.” Steve sighed. “I’m with ya… Till the end of the line, remember?” 

Bucky’s eyes softened at that, watching as a small smile pulled at the corner of Steve's mouth. His relationship with his best friend had been a little rocky these past few weeks to say the least. But for the first time in a long time, he trusted him. Completely and fully. Bucky wasn't alone, not any more. 

“Alright, punk. Let's go get her back.” 

………………………………………………………………………………………………………………..

You squeezed the trigger, wincing as the machine in your hand clicked. 

Silence. 

You pulled it again, but same as before nothing happened. 

“Oh, baby. You're even more ruthless than I remember.” Tommy taunted, holding up the clip in his hands before springing from the floor, charging at you. You quickly dodged him, sending him into the wall behind you. 

“You’d really shoot me? After everything we’ve been through. Bucky Barnes must have some pretty good moves. Remind me to ask him when Hydra gets their little pet back.” 

You growled, “Take his name out of your mouth.” 

“And what about you, baby. Has it been in yours?” He cooed, lunging at you and hammering a stiff punch to your jaw. You stumbled back a few pases, but ultimately regained your balance. 

“I trusted you. I loved you!” You screamed, rocketing your leg forward and sweeping it under Tommy’s legs, knocking him down. He gasped on impact, clutching his chest for air. 

“Tell me,” He wheezed. “When he touches you, do you think of me?” The small smirk on his thin lips disappeared as you brought your boot down on his throat. He choked and gasped for air, but none came. For a moment you wondered if this was really who you were. A killer, nothing but a numb shell of a woman he had left behind. 

You watched as his face turned a deep shade of purple. He furiously clawed at your leg begging for air. It would be so easy. With your strength and a little more added pressure you could completely crush his windpipe. Hell, you're sure you could rip his head clean off, but you didn't want blood on your new combat boots. It’s funny, all this time you were thinking Bucky was the monster. Yet here you stood, Tommy’s life in your hands and there was nothing you'd enjoy more than watching his eyes roll back into his skull. Just like before, only this time there would be no second chances. 

The commotion outside the small room had your head snapping up and away from your prey. Gunfire echoed through the hallways, causing you to freeze. As the footsteps neared your room, you made your decision. Tommy would get his one way or another, but not if you died first. 

Reluctantly you lifted your boot off his now bruised and raw throat. He drew a jagged breath as the air rushed back into his swollen lungs. You grabbed the mag from across the room and reloaded the gun with a deep click. 

“Not a word.” You threatened Tommy, pressing the pistol into his head behind him. If you were going out, it was going to be a bloodbath, starting with his.

The metal door was torn from its hinges in an explosion of dust and concrete.

“I’d pull the trigger if I were you, doll.” His familiar husky voice boomed. 

“Bucky?” You all but whispered. 

“We’re not killing anyone.” Steve spoke from beside him as he and Wanda walked through the dust filled room. 

“You came.” You swallowed down your exhaustion you only now realised was there.

“Of course we came. Couldn't leave my best girl. All though, now I see you can take care of yourself just fine.” Bucky chuckled. You couldn't help the smile that spread across your lips as relief filled your lungs. 

“They're gunna’ to kill you.” Tommy coughed out. Bucky’s eyes shot to his, and as if it was the first time he had really realised he was in the room. 

“Oh, you must be Tommy. You know, heard great things, but now that we're meeting - officially- I have to say, I’m disappointed.” He took two wide pases to the quivering man, looking down on him. “You're shorter than I thought you'd be.” Bucky half joked. 

“Go on Winter Soldier. Do what you do best. Show her who you are.” He breathed, more confidence in his small voice now. He truly had a death wish.

“With pleasure.” Bucky seethed. You prepared yourself for the gruesome image that was about to unfold but the next thing you felt was Bucky’s hands on either side of your arms. When you opened your eyes, his were soft. 

This time, you knew who initiated it. You wrapped your hands around the back of his neck and pulled him down to you, crashing your lips onto his. They were soft and rough all at once as he drank you in. His flesh hand quickly lost itself in your hair as he pulled you in deeper. He kissed you softly, but you urged for more, desperate and craving to make up for lost time. He chuckled darkly at your attempt, holding you tight to his chest. He wanted nothing more than to hold you like that and never let go, but there were bigger things at play. Reluctantly, he pulled away as you gasped for breath. 

“Wanna get out of here?” Bucky breathed, taking your hands in his. You nodded, completely lost in thought. 

“Please.” He signed, following Steve and Wanda out of the room. 

“You can't just leave me here!” Tommy shouted. 

“Don’t worry, darling. Hydra’s going to take care of you. I mean, you let me get away, but I’m sure they’ll understand. After all, historically Natzi’s have been known for their forgiveness...” You grinned, turning on your heel and coming face to face with him.

“Y/n, please. Baby, you gotta’ help me. I'm sorry. I’m so, so sorry.” Tommy begged. His meak words caused you to grit your teeth. 

“I want you to remember this when they’re torturing you… I could have killed you. Easily- without regret. But you deserve so, so much worse.” You signed, slapping his face mockingly. You turned on your heel, as his words hit your back like a threat. 

“You're a slut, you know that. No one will ever love you like I did. You'll always be a sad, broken, pathetic bitch. Lucky your family fucked off when they did before they could see you grow up to be such whore.”

You stopped dead in your tracks. Bucky watched you carefully as you gnawed on your bottom lip, pleading with your eyes. He met your silent question with a shrug of his shoulders. Swiftly you turned and before Tommy could understand what was happening you took a fistful of his polo shirt and instantaneously collided your fist with his cheek, knocking him out instantly. 

“God damn, you're beautiful.” Bucky breathed, causing you to giggle. 

“Lets get the fuck out of here.” You spat, watching Tommys limp body crumpled on the floor. It took everything in you not to finish the job right there. Luckily Bucky was there to pull you away. 

You were quickly rushed through the hallways, avoiding the Hydra agents who writhed in half conscious pain on the floor. A nice touch by Wanda, who most likely sent them to their personal hell on earth. A few of them had bullet holes in their appendages but nothing fatel. 

“Why aren't we killing them again?” You asked under your breath to Bucky. 

“Steve thinks if a bunch of Hydra agents wind up dead ittl’ alert his friends back in New York. We’re trying to keep a low profile.” He explained, clenching his jaw. “Doesn't mean I’m not tempted to rain down fire on these sons of bitches. But he’s right.” 

“But they know how to replicate my serum now. What do we-”

“We’ll keep close tabs on them. Right now we need to get you out of here. We’ll come back when we regroup.” He resaured you, pulling you close. “You're my mission. You've always been my mission. Can you just let me save you?” He chuckled. 

You shook your head, a smile spreading on your lips. “I don't need a knight.” 

Bucky flashed that lopsided grin you missed so much, “How bout’ a Sergeant?” He asked deeply, sending a chill to blossom through your body. 

“I’ll get back to you.” You spoke sheepishly. 

“Sam says the jets fired up. He and Vision are on the tarmac just out front.” Steve spoke, leaning you out the doors and into the burning sunlight. The four of you ran across the pathment as Steve helped Wanda into the aircraft. Wanda wrapped her hand around yours and pulled you up, but before you could climb in, the sound of gunfire exploded through the air. 

In the time it took you to turn around, it was too late. Bucky had taken the blow of two bullets fired from the disheveled Hydra agent across the tarmac. Your heart stopped as another round of bullets sprayed through the air. Wanda screamed your name as you pulled away from her and threw yourself in front of Bucky, absorbing the impact. In a flash of red, you disintegrated the bullets, turning them to dust before you. 

“Get him out of here.” You ordered, turning for a moment to assess his injuries. Steve and Sam reluctantly pulled Bucky onto the jet leaving you to face your demon. The agent smiled wickedly. 

“Leaving so soon, Y/n. Family reunion not all you thought it was going to be?” He snearned. 

“Family. Is that even a word you understand?” You spat, closing in on him. He was only a few yards away. The man shrugged and tucked his gun away. 

“Maybe not. How about some words you'll understand?” He spoke coolly. 

“Выхлоп.” Exhaust. The word echoed around your mind, a memory pulling at your heart. 

“Отражение...тоска...забытый...горящий...призрак...пять...замороженный...мост…  чувство вины.” 

Reflection...Longing… Forgotten… Burning… Ghost… Five… Frozen… Bridge… Blame.

Images flashed through your mind. The inferno of your childhood home. Tommy’s lifeless body tipping over the bridge… Your mom and dad, the way they smiled. You're sisters giggle. Your mission… Finally, numbness washed over you as you hung your head in exhaustion. 

You took two steps closer to the man, your heart pounding in your chest. 

“Are you ready to comply?” He questioned curley. 

“Yeah, that doesn’t work anymore.” You breathed, snapping your head up to meet the man's horrified face. Crimson flames erupted out of your hands as you lifted him off the ground. With the flick of your fingers, the bones in his legs snapped, an ungodly sound of crunching willing the air. He screamed in pain as you threw him like a ragdoll into the side of the building. 

You shook your head, physically trying to rid yourself of the daze Hydras trigger words had sent you into. Bucky calling your name from behind knocking you back to reality. You ran towards the jet, climbing in and trying to steady your breathing. 

“Are you okay?” Steve asked, astonished. 

“I think so.” You replied, just as shocked as he was. 

“Those were trigger words. Just like Bucky had. How did you fight it?” He spoke. 

You looked to Bucky who only blinked at you. You had your answer before you even spoke. 

“Bucky. I just remembered Bucky.” You breathed, squatting down beside him and holding your hand over his wounds to relieve his pain. 

“I knew it.” He groaned, feeling the ache slowly dissipate into thin air. 

“What?” You chuckled, taking a seat beside him and pressing your lips to his temple. He signed into your touch and leaned his head onto your shoulder.  

“Knew you couldn't leave me for dead. You’ve got my six.” He explained, repeating his words from the other day. You smiled into your lap and rolled your eyes. 

“Yeah, yeah. I thought it might be a dick move. But we’re even now.” You sighed, nudging him a little.  His eyes fluttered closed as he began to doze off. His wounds surely repairing themselves while he slept. You wondered if he could hear how fast your heart was beating as you watched him nuzzle into you. 

Of course, he did. He smiled softly, knowing he made you feel the same as you did him. Though he wondered if he was pushing his luck to imagine he could take that thought one step further.

.......................................................................................................................

A/N: So, #fuck tommy. Telling him off in this was honestly therapeutic lol. I really hoped you guys enjoyed this one. As always, please like and reblog of you’ve read it. And feel free so leave some feedback, its alwasy welcome! 

@projectcampbell​

@kalesrebellion​

@calwitch​

#msmarvelwrites #marvel #marvel fanfiction #marvel fanfic idea #marvel smut #bucky x reader #bucky barns imagine #bucky barns x reader #bucky barnes #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes reader insert #bucky #bucky barnes smut #bucky barns x y/n #bucky barns fanfiction #bucky x steve #bucky x you #bucky x female reader #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes x reader smut #bucky barnes reader #marvel civil war #wintersoldier #winter solider fanfiction #thewinterghost #winter soldier x y/n #the winter solider x reader #bucky imagine

[the-dimitrescu-seamstress]

Twelve Yards of Floral Damask - One Shot

(Mun here. I was quiet for the most part of last night, but after Nicole Tompkins stream, a fire was lit under me and I finished a drabble I had been working on ever since I saw that one portrait of Lady Dimitrescu. 

Below is a one-shot I wrote, one of many I have planned. Magdalena Petran is my OC, while Lady Alcina Dimitrescu belongs to Capcom. I hope you enjoy it.)

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

The castle was immense and, if Magda had to admit it, a bit intimidating. It was rather easy to get yourself turned around in the hallways, or initially forget which door led to where off of the interior courtyard. The servants that were around, and willing to speak to her, advised the seamstress that, in order to make life in the castle easier for her, she had better learn the layout as best she could and as quickly as she could.

That was a task easier said than done. She felt safe in her part of the castle, even if safe was only a relative term. If she took a wrong turn or opened the wrong door, she could easily end up in a place where she would not return from. She was well aware of the screams that would echo throughout the castle. Sometimes they came from the direction of the family’s private chambers, but more often they would crawl up from the castle depths. Either way, Magda never wanted her voice to join them.

But, if she was so afraid, why was she quietly walking the halls this late at night? The simple answer was that the servants were right. She needed to learn how to navigate this world; both the physical and the social aspects. That meant she needed to learn all she could about the castle and its inhabitants. Repairing garments they were used to could only get you so far. Anyone could mend a seam or stitch a button, but Magda needed to make sure she was invaluable. The Countess seemed pleased with her work so far, but she had yet to entrust her with creating anything new. She needed to change that.

The other reason Magda was using the late hour to do her self-guided tour was that there were less people around. Most of the servants were already in bed, and she had picked a night that the girls were out on a hunt. The last thing Magda needed was for them to stalk her through the castle for fun. Their laughter in the dark was unsettling.

The lack of individuals also allowed her to take her time on examining the various portraits, busts, and ceramics that were thoroughly scattered throughout the place. She tried to piece together how old Lady Dimitrescu was by the decor, but there were items from across many time periods, keeping Magda from placing an exact age on the woman. The daughters could have been from the mid-1800’s, if the portrait in the Entrance Hall was any indication, but all she knew of the Countess was that she either had lived for many centuries or she was a collector of fine antiques and enjoyed living in great opulence.

The seamstress stood at the top of the stairs in the Main Hall, mentally mapping out the areas through the doorways around her. “That way to the Hall of the Four… Left and to the left again for the Entrance Hall, Carriage Gate, and the decrepit elevator of death. Though all this is a circle as well. Door to the right in the Hall of the Four leads to…” Magda didn’t complete that sentence, but through that door was the receiving room where she… where she became an employee of the castle. That would be a place to avoid for a while. Taking a breath and ignoring the brief ache of her left wrist, she continued.

“Dining Room below, and through to the left is the kitchen, while straight ahead is the courtyard. Once in the courtyard, to the right is the private chambers of Lady Dimitrescu. To the left is the Opera House, and my workspace.” To think that this castle had its own opera house. Yes, it was small, but still incredible to be in. With the bottom floor mostly mapped in her head, Magda began to walk the second floor. Here were the doors to the dressing and sitting rooms, as well as the Wine Room. Knowing that, she turned away from the dressing rooms and quietly went through the doors opposite.

The statue in front of her was large, unexpected, and the subject matter was really almost clichéd. Magda thought vampires were only supposed to have decadent art pieces of the sacrificial sort in works of fiction, and yet here was one being displayed before her. Perhaps it was a family heirloom or a macabre wedding gift. Either way, she decidedly turn her attention from it and continued on her exploration.

Light bled into the hallway from the room to the left, its door partially closed, and there were slight sounds of movement coming from within. Curiosity overcame self-preservation as Magda slowly crept forward, barely breathing in order to be as quiet as possible. Naturally, her careful steps found the one floorboard that squeaked under her weight, causing her to freeze in place and wait.

“To whomever is lingering in the hall, your eavesdropping presence has been noticed and it is not appreciated. Announce yourself before I lose my patience.” Magda closed her eyes and mouthed a silent curse as the voice of Alcina Dimitrescu sounded from within the room.

“It’s… It’s Magdalena Petran, ma’am. Your seamstress?” she replied nervously, before realizing how stupid she sounded. As if there was another Magdalena working here. There was a tense silence before it was broken by a simple command.

“Enter.”

Knowing better than to make her wait, Magda obeyed and quickly entered the room.

She had expected it to be a private study, but instead she found the room to be a simple art studio. No, simple wasn’t the right word. While it lacked the gilded decor of the rest of the castle, the ceiling was high and vaulted, complete with a skylight to let plenty of natural sunlight in during the day. Its simplistic appearance was only due to how older looking, more worn, and used everything was. The darker woodwork and wallpaper contributed to the effect as well. The floor lacked polish and uniformity in board shape and coloring. The few pieces of furniture and large quantities of books were all pushed against the walls, leaving plenty of room for a canvas and easel to sit in the center of the room. This was a place of work. Lady Dimitrescu, clad in an artist’s smock and with brush and palette in hand, gazed down at Magda in her usual authoritative fashion.

“What is your reason for wandering the halls of my castle at such a late hour, Miss Petran? I doubt that you are looking for clothing to repair.”

“I was looking...” she stopped and quickly corrected herself. “I was learning to find my way around the castle. It’s a large estate and I’d rather not get lost or open the wrong door.” Or get eaten, she thought.

“Could you not do this during the day?”

“I didn’t want to get in anyone’s way, mistress. I thought if I did it at night, most of the servants would be asleep, your daughters would be out hunting or otherwise occupied, and you would be…” Magda’s voice died in her throat as she looked down, not quite sure of what to say next.

“You thought I would be secreted away in my private chambers, busying myself with whatever womanly duties a lady of the house tended to do late at night. Is that it? Look at me when I am talking to you.” Magda’s head immediately snapped upward, fear likely showing in her eyes since an amused little smile, one with an edge to it, crept across Lady Dimitrescu’s deep red lips.

“Ma’am, I would never do something like that or presume anything about your nightly activities. I was not prowling or sneaking around. I was just exploring and figuring things out and I saw the light, so I came to look and then… I’m sorry, Mistress. I honestly didn’t mean to intrude.” The taller woman watched Magda for a long while, yellow eyes boring into her unwaveringly, before turning her attention back on the unfinished painting.

“Which is it?” she asked in a clipped manner, adding a few minute details to the wings of the angel depicted on her canvas.

“I beg your pardon?” Magda replied, confused.

“Throughout this entire conversation, you have used both ‘ma’am’ and ‘mistress’ when addressing me. Are you unable to make up your mind, child? Pick one or the other.” A few more brush strokes. “Now, which is it?” Magda was a bit lost. She didn’t know if this was a test or if she was simply making a mistake that needed to be corrected. Not knowing which was the better option, she went for a third choice.

“…Countess?” At that, the other woman paused and slowly turned to look at Magda once more, yellow eyes once again locked onto her, but this time her gaze was one of appraisal rather than judgement. This time her smile was one of satisfaction, as if saying ‘well, the mortal can be taught’. She then returned to her painting, the tension in the room having dissipated. However, Magda did note that she had not dismissed her. Whether this was another test, or the woman just enjoyed toying with her, she couldn’t say.

Rather than run the risk of spoiling the mood or the Countess’ artist moment, Magda took the time to quietly look around the room, taking in details she had previously missed; the large stuffed snapping turtles, the bell tower gears seen through the windows, and the immense portrait hanging in a ornate wood frame on the far wall.

You would think missing something like that upon entering would have been impossible, but then again, the subject in the painting was initially blocked by a living being of the exact same size. Now Magda could see it clearly, and it was gorgeous. It was the Countess, but perhaps a little younger. She still had a pink flush to her skin, still had life in her. No, that was wrong. Lady Dimitrescu ate, drank, and breathed like everyone else, but there was a difference that Magda couldn’t quite place.

The dress she wore was exquisite, and Magda took an unintended step forward before stopping herself. The Countess didn’t seem to have noticed, but she still decided to play it safe.

“Countess? That portrait… it’s you, isn’t it?”

“It is,” she replied with an amused half chuckle. “Unless you are aware of another woman of my stature.” She was clearly enjoying this. Good. Better an amused Countess than a wrathful one.

“May I take a closer look?” A gentle, almost absentminded, shooing motion with one hand was all the response that was given, but Magda took it as a yes, quickly walking over.

Up close, it was even more impressive that she originally thought. She had always been impressed by how artists managed to convey fabric and textures with simple strokes from a paintbrush. There were even minute wrinkles in the skirt. It was beautiful, absolutely stunning. Magda’s gaze hungrily devoured every detail she saw of this garment. At first she thought the fabric was a brocade, and from her initial distance, the mistake could be understood. The print was the proper size and detail for the material, but brocade would have been too heavy or stiff to have the folds of the skirt lay as they did.

“Floral damask?” she asked eagerly, not even thinking that she had just blurted out something in an otherwise quiet room.

“What?” came the terse response.

“The fabric, it’s a floral damask, isn’t it? Sterling gray and white.” Not even waiting for a confirmation, she went back to her examination. Too low a neckline for Victorian, also wrong hairstyle for the time. Late Victorian perhaps? Edwardian? That would make sense. At least she had a decade to work with, but Edwardian fashion changed every year of that decade. Either way, her mind was already clicking, and the desire to make or even see this garment had nestled itself thoroughly into her psyche, digging its damned little claws into her. Magda was like this when she saw a piece of clothing that intrigued her, flaming an odd passion inside of her. There was no way she would let this go so easily.

“Does the gown still exist?” she asked, turning around and looking unexpectedly at the Countess, who was now standing directly behind her. For a woman her size, it was unnerving how quietly she could move if she wished to.

“It intrigues you, doesn’t it?”

“I… If I can… I would love to make this. It’s twelve yards, at least, if that was when… if you were…” The Countess’ eyebrow quirked a little, and Magda immediately changed her wording, knowing it was a very bad idea to mention sizes, especially to her. “Historically, at least twelve yards of fabric would be needed for a Late Victorian or Edwardian dress like that. If… Countess, I know you think I’m babbling, but I believe I can recreate this gown for you. Please. I know I can.”

“Whether you can or cannot is not the issue, Miss Petran. The hour is late and I would rather not hear you prattle on about fabric or garments that have not been worn in quite some time. I believe I have indulged you for long enough. I suggest you retire back to your quarters for the night before you find yourself anywhere else in this castle.” It wasn’t quite a threat, but there was an edge to it, and the seamstress knew better than to test that edge.

“Yes, Countess,” she replied, giving her a bow before heading for the door, her mind still processing the gown.

“And Magdalena?” Magda froze upon hearing her first name spoken, a chill running down her spine. Why the sudden name change? Had she done something wrong? She was at the door, she could have simply continued on, feigning ignorance. But instead, she turned around, ready to face whatever faux pas she had unwittingly done. Alcina was still at the portrait, back to her.

“Yes, Countess?”

“Three days from now, I would like a tailoring session. Mid-afternoon. That is all.” It was good that she could not see Magda’s face, as her jaw went slack and she stared. Three days. She had three days to  ready and prove herself. The workshop wasn’t a mess, per se, but she knew she could make it better for her visit.

“Yes, Countess. Absolutely.” Another bow, and she was gone. Magda may have just made herself useful.

#drabble #one shot #alcina dimitrescu

[iliumheightnights]

Hide and Sneak | Will Stonghold x Male Reader

Fandom: Sky High

Pairing: Will Stronghold x Male!Reader

Summary: Reader is Warren’s twin but holds no ill will to Will’s dad. And so they have to sneak around. Luckily (Y/N)’s powers let him sneak around easily.

A/N: What’s this? ANOTHER sky high insert? Yeth. I watched it again recently and just...I love this movie. 

When Will started going to school at sky high he was nervous to say the least. He had yet to get powers and was put in hero support. He couldn’t let his parents find out, if they found out he didn’t have powers they’d be disappointed. They’d be even more disappointed if they found out his other secret.

Will had known he had like other boys since he was little. He knew it when he wanted to hold his friends hand and he wanted to be saved by the princes in those princess movies. He never admitted to it though, from what he heard from people it wouldn’t end well for him. It wasn’t natural, they told him. Thankfully his best friend Layla told him differently. She was the only one who knew and supported him fully.

Freshman year of high school came around and he wasn’t ready for everyone to know he was powerless. When lunch time came around he looked over and saw a boy staring at him with a death glare. “Who’s that?” Ethan was the one who answered. “Dude that’s Warren peace. You’re dad put his dad in prison.” So that’s why he was glaring at him, great another bully/enemy already. “And who’s that going to sit across from him?” Layla asked. “Oh that’s (Y/N), Warren’s brother. Same dad, different mom.” Unlike Warren, (Y/N) was bright smiles and looked rather chipper for it being the first day of school. Eventually he turned and his eye’s met Will’s. Expecting another death glare, he was pleasantly surprised when instead (Y/N) smiled and waved at him. He blushed and feebly waved back before looking down at his tray. Layla playfully punched his arm. “Looks like someone likes you.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” 

“Sure you don’t.”

…

After waving to Will, (Y/N) turned back to his food. “You know it’s rude to stare. Even ruder when you’re actually glaring at them.” Warren let out a huff. “Why did you wave to him? His dad put our dad in prison.” (Y/N) rolled his eyes at his brother. “Warren. Our dad is a villain, he should have known it was going to happen when he did what he did. Besides why would you blame him? It was his dad that did it, not him.” Now it was Warren’s turn to roll his eyes at his brother. “So are you going to become friends with him?” (Y/N) smirked. “Well I was just going to introduce myself, but seeing as you really don’t want me to be friends with him...I think I will.” His brother groaned and he laughed at his misery.

After lunch (Y/N) went to find Will. He did end up finding him...being pushed around by Speed and Lash. Casually walking up to the group of boys, he crossed his arms and fake coughed. They all looked at him. “What? Couldn’t swindle the freshmen into giving you their money so now you have to man handle them? Man you guys really are losing your touch.”  Lash and Speed had let go of Will and laughed at him. “Come on (Y/N) you know we still have our mojo.” Speed started. “Yeah, We just wanted Stronghold to know he isn’t all that. Don’t you agree?” Lash smirked at him. (Y/N) chuckled before shaking his head. “Come on Lash, you know me. I give them the benefit of the doubt. Which is what I’m giving you two right now. So why don’t you guys get out of here.” Speed was about to argue but Lash stopped him and pulled him along. Watching the two turn a corner he turned back to Will. “You okay?”

“U-Um y-yeah.”

(Y/N) laughed lifting a hand. “I’m (Y/N).”

“Will. Will Stronghold.”  He shook the other boy's hand.

“Nice to meet you. What’s your next class? Need me to show you how to get there?”

“I actually have to go back to power placement. It’s my turn.”

“Ah, well let me walk you to the gym.”

(Y/N) began walking towards the gym, Will following close to him. 

“So, what’s your power?”

“Will stronghold, you can’t just ask people what their powers are!”  Will began stuttering but stopped when (Y/N) began laughing. “I’m just fucking with you. But I also don’t kiss and tell on the first date. I’d rather it be a surprise.” The two made it to the gym. “Alright, here you go. Don’t let that boomer in there get you down. Whether you’re a hero or side kick it doesn’t matter, it’s what you do that matters. See ya later Will.”

Will watched as (Y/N) left and headed towards his class. He felt his heart beating faster in his chest. He was falling for (Y/N), that wasn’t going to go over well with his parents.

…

After a couple weeks of attending sky high, (Y/N) and Will eventually began a relationship, in secret. They didn’t want people to know first off because Will still wasn’t comfortable with people knowing he liked guys and second off because their families practically hated each other.

When Will had been put in hero support it was no surprise to him, but that didn’t mean he was exactly happy about it. Thankfully (Y/N) had talked with him about it and made him feel better about it. “You do realize sidekicks end up saving their heroes a bunch of times right? Like they’re basically the backbone of any hero team. You should be proud of being such an important person, I know I’d want you by my side fighting crime.” That made him happy so the two decided then and there that when it was time they would become each other’s partners in crime fighting.

Will was also happy that when the news of him not having powers travelled around school, (Y/N) didn’t treat him any different. In fact he didn’t treat Will like anyone else had. Everyone else treated him like the son of the Commander and Jetstream's son, who had to live up to them. (Y/N) treated him like Will Stronghold, a person who chose their own way in life. In that time Will had discovered that (Y/N) had the power to change his size..which was perfect for sneaking.

…

Will was sitting on his bed working on some homework when he heard a knock on his window. Turning he saw (Y/N) standing outside on his roof. Quickly, he stood up and opened the window for him. “About time. It was freezing out there.” He entered the room and looked around.

“What are you doing here? What if my parents see you?”

“Can’t I come and visit my boyfriend? And don’t worry if anything happens I’ll hide.”

“Where will you hide. There’s like nowhere to hide in here.” 

He was interrupted as (Y/N) engulfed him in a hug. “Relax. Everything will be fine. I just wanted to see you okay. We never get to have any alone time because we only ever see each other at school.”

Will hugged him back and let out a sigh. “I know. I just..I worry that they’ll find out. My dad would probably actually kill you if he saw you.”

“Does he even know who I am? If he saw me couldn’t I just say I’m someone else.”

“I honestly have no idea. My dad can either be the smartest guy or the dumbest person. There is no inbetween.”

(Y/N) laughed at that. “Well then. I guess we better be careful.”

“So what-”

“Will!” The sound of his dad interrupted them.

“Crap. You have to-.” When Will turned back, (Y/N) was gone. “Hide.”

Then the door opened and Steve Stronghold entered. 

“Hey dad. What’s up?”

“I was just wanting to let you know that your mother and I have some business that needs to be handled so we’ll be gone for a couple days. There’s some money for food on the fridge, just make sure to get your work done and get to school on time.”

“Got it dad. When are you guys leaving?’

“Now. We have to go all the way to Australia to talk with some people about the last criminal we fought there. Don’t worry, nothing too serious. Be good.”

“I will. Bye dad.”

Once Steve left. Will didn’t move until he was sure his parents were gone. “Okay you can come out now.” There was no moving or shuffling. “Come on Stronghold, that's no fun. You gotta find me.” (Y/N)’s voice was a higher pitch than it normally was. Looking around his room, Will’s eyes landed on a shelf holding his action figures. The normal group of collectible and non-collectible were there but so was another thing. “There you are.” Will quickly grabbed the now action figure sized (Y/N). “That was actually a pretty smart place to hide.” (Y/N) was trying to wrestle out of Will’s grasp. “Thanks. Now let me go.”

Will smirked at him. “But you’re so cute like this.”

“Will!”

“I’m just kidding.” He sat (Y/N) on his bed, who quickly returned to normal size. “See. All good again.”

“Ha ha. Now…” He stood up and walked over to Will. Wrapping his arms around his neck. “What was this I heard about you having the house to yourself for a couple days?” Will smirked before kissing (Y/N). “Would you like to stay over for a couple days?”

“I thought you’d never ask. Also now that I’ve actually seen your dad, he’s definitely homophobic so we better keep hiding this from him.”

Will laughed at that. “Yeah probably for the best.”

#sky high #skyhigh #sky high insert #sky high male insert #will stronghold #will stronghold x male reader #will stronghold x male!reader #will stronghold x reader

[bandaged-writer]

swan song || dazai

➤ Pairing: PM! Dazai x Contemporary Dancer! Reader

➤ Genre: fluff, romance, angst 

➤ Warnings: mention of minor character death, mentions of suicide, alcohol consumption, innuendos, murder in the form of a nightmare, violence, language, blood, mental breakdown 

➤ Summary: Not even Dazai could predict that a certain calico cat would lead him to his serendipity made of bruised knees and angelic smiles. 

➤ Word count: 10k

➤ Note: This fic is very important to me since it’s partially based on events I went through as a dancer myself; therefore, I’d be really happy to hear what you think of it. Have fun reading. <3

It was rare for Yokohama's streets to be completely empty, especially when the moon illuminated even the darkest alleys and offered to lead the way home for many lost souls. Ever since November arrived and the trees' leaves had already fallen, the temperatures had dropped considerably. Snow began to fall and wrapped the port city in a gentle blanket of white; even in the dark of the night, branches shimmered in the moon's light, streets became as clear as day as the artificial light of street lamps was reflected from the snow's surface. 

For once, it was a tranquil night in which blood didn't stain the innocence of Yokohama. 

Dull footsteps filled the silence as Dazai followed the calico cat - Sensei - out of the bar Lupin. The cat had been pawing at the brunette's pants, meowing at him to finally leave the empty bar and catch some fresh air. Truth be told, Dazai didn't know why he listened to a cat of all creatures which graced the surface of this planet. Maybe it was the tiny voice in his head which wanted him to go home, rest his sore limbs and hopefully find some peace and quiet in the form of sleep. 

"Where are you leading me to, Sensei?" Dazai's tongue still tickled with the taste of whiskey, but his head was very much sober. Chocolate orbs watched how the cat left tiny prints of his paws in the snow and merely meowed at him in response as if telling the mafioso to trust him. Who was Dazai to deny the request of a lucky charm on four legs? "Yeah, yeah, got it." Odd, how the mafia executive found comfort in talking to a cat. 

Dazai's breath came out in white puffs of air which dissolved into nothing, the cold nipped at his cheeks and would hug him like the familiar arms of death if it weren't for the black coat wrapped around his slim form. As much as Dazai craved to die, freezing to death wasn't his favorite way to leave this world; he had standards, after all. 

Streets had long since blurred into one another when Sensei suddenly meowed out loud and pawed at the spinning door made of glass which was rimmed by a golden color. Raising his gaze, Dazai recognized the building immediately. It was an expensive theater which was often rented by the mafia to celebrate the success of bigger missions. Famous actors, singers and even dancers held their performances in the vast venue, but it was nothing but another building at night. 

"Are you sure, buddy?" A small smile decorated Dazai's usually unreadable face, a curious shimmer flashed in his eyes as he heard the soft bass of music being played from within. Another proof that Sensei certainly wasn't an average cat. Intrigued by what - or rather who - was awaiting him, Dazai entered and let a sigh of relief slip his chapped lips, Sensei always right by his side. 

Warmth greeted the mafioso, the red carpet below his feet silenced any sound his shoes could cause and possibly startle whoever was at the very heart of the theater. Cash registers were unoccupied, snack bars were filled with various treats, but they seemed to be untouched as well as the alcohol on display. Everything that was of value was still in place, unscathed. 

Every step Dazai took was in sync with the rhythm which faintly caressed his ears and he found himself enjoying the calm beat. Before the brunette knew it, he stood in the middle of rows upon rows of chairs, the cushions cold and unused as his eyes were focused on the dancer, clad in black, on the wooden stage. Dazai only registered how Sensei leapt on one of the chairs, everything else was unimportant. 

Bare feet floated across the floor from left to right, arms moved gracefully like the stretching wings of a swan. Eyes were closed in concentration as your heels turned to the right and your arms rested across your torso. Your left hand went around your head once, traced the line of your right arm and ended up intertwined with your other hand. Stretching your leg out in front of you, you swiftly kicked the limb to your side and let your torso follow the movement by dipping it low and coming to a standing position. 

The song Dazai didn't know came to an end, your heavy breathing filled the room along with the soft sound of your feet padding along the stage. 

"You know that staring at a woman is rude, don't you?" Your voice was rough around the edges as your lungs grasped for some much needed air. A thin layer of sweat made your face shine in the dim light and a smile settled down on your lips. Ripped out of his mesmerized state, Dazai chuckled at your reaction - he had expected you to yell at him, scream, threaten him, but instead, you called him out. "True beauty even makes a gentleman stare," he said. 

A rosy blush bloomed on your cheeks as you suddenly laughed, the sound bouncing off the walls which were decorated with rich designs and several paintings you couldn't name. "You sure know how to flatter a woman. I'll give you that," you sat down on the edge of the stage, right in front of Dazai and reached for your half empty water bottle. Honestly, you couldn't quite believe the stranger's words; who found a sweating person beautiful? Either way, you didn't bother to ask and simply let him have his fun. The mafioso sat down on one of the many chairs, took off his coat and let Sensei cuddle himself into the fabric. 

"Can you do that again?" 

"Huh?" 

"Dancing. Can you dance once more?" It was an innocent request from Dazai's point of view. He wanted to understand what you danced to, what made your body move and how you moved it. He wanted to understand the story behind it. With a soft gaze, you leaned forward, chin resting on your palm. "In exchange for your name, I will consider dancing, again," the smile on your face was pure, there were no hidden intentions behind your persona, just the innocence of curiosity. You were far from being a threat. "My name is Dazai. Dazai Osamu."

"Well, it's nice to meet you, Dazai. I'm [Name] and not someone to deny the audience a wish," grabbing the hem of your black button down shirt, you wiped some sweat off your forehead and made your way to the bluetooth speakers which stood somewhere in the shadows. 

Dazai found himself drawn to the mere way you walked. Yes, he had seen many confident women, especially in the mafia - Kouyou was the best example for that, but no one carried themselves like you. There was an air of elegant confidence surrounding your being like a halo, every step was memorized by your legs, every turn you took was sharp. Dazai had never interacted with a dancer before, but he could tell you were one. An experienced dancer, too. 

His train of thought was interrupted by the soft sound of a plucking instrument being played and he saw the way you fell into a completely different persona. The air around you seemed to change into a melancholic one, your face reflecting emotions he saw daily: fear, anguish, melancholy. Gone was the friendly you. It was replaced by someone who looked like you. 

Naked feet glided across the stage with ease as you seemed to become the beat yourself. Muscles smoothly tensed up to hit a sharp beat and immediately slid into a more relaxed state like it was the only thing you knew how to do, like it was breathing. 

The closer Dazai looked, the more he noticed the calloused parts of your feet and for a moment, he wondered how much it had to hurt, but your face showed no signs of discomfort - if anything, you were at peace, in the middle of your very essence. 

Much like paintings, Dazai didn't quite understand the story behind it, couldn't put together the pieces you showed him. He only finished the edge of the puzzle you performed which gave the mafioso a slight idea of the bigger picture you were trying to show him and maybe if Dazai asked, you would tell him the story behind the dance. For some reason, he sensed that it was an intimate question to which the answer was the moves you generously provided. 

A slow jazz beat filled the empty bar named Lupin at nearly 00:00 o'clock, the faint smell of alcohol and cigarettes lingered pleasantly in the air. Only two seats were occupied at such a late hour; one by Dazai and the other seat was taken by Odasaku, the brunette's best friend. 

"You've been looking at the clock quite a few times now. You still got plans?" Odasaku took a sip of his glass of whiskey with a large ice cube in it. The liquor pleasantly burned his throat and warmed the older man up from within - very welcoming considering the minus temperatures waiting outside of the bar. A single finger traced the edge of Dazai's own glass, his mind occupied with something - no, someone - else. "I can't hide anything from you, can I, Odasaku?" A tranquil smile found home on Dazai's slightly chapped lips. Something about Oda figuring him out like any other person made Dazai feel normal instead of an oh-so-called demonic prodigy with an unmatched intellect. 

The mafia executive rested his cheek on his palm as he recalled the recent events. Sensei leading him to the theater, the soft thumping of a bass caressing his ears and his eyes landing on someone who bloomed on stage like a flower which was about to wither. "I was wondering if she was still up." At that, Odasaku's interest was piqued. It wasn't unusual for his suicidal friend to woo a woman, but it was unusual for him to wonder what his latest encounter was up to. "She?" The man was fairly curious, given that he usually witnessed how Dazai took a pretty lady home, but this time, Oda couldn't recall someone catching his friend's interest. 

"Last night, Sensei lead me to the theater which the boss often rents for celebrations. I thought that maybe Sensei just needed a place to sleep at, but when I got there, I met [Name]." Slowly, Dazai twirled his glass and watched the liquid moving around while Oda was attentively listening. It certainly wasn't a common story to meet someone. "She's a dancer. Ah, what was that style called?" The brunette looked up at the ceiling in thought, eyebrows furrowed ever so slightly. "Temporary? No, contemporary! She's a contemporary dancer." 

"Let me guess. You want to see her, again." Oda spoke, finished his glass and looked at his dear friend in wonder. He didn't know who you were, probably never even saw your face, but the fact that you somehow managed to charm Dazai was quite a feat. After all, Dazai rarely thought of anything or anyone interesting enough unless it challenged his mind. "I do. But I don't know why." Dazai admitted, his lips pulled into a soft frown as he stared at his still full glass. For some reason, he had lost interest in getting pleasantly buzzed with Odasaku. "There's nothing special about her nor am I interested in dance and yet.." Dazai trailed off for a second and sighed. You confused him, although you were so easy to read and figure out. The blush on your cheeks gave away that you liked having Dazai's attention, you were easy to please. "She's pretty. I guess I enjoy being near her."

If anyone else had told Oda about Dazai's encounter with a dancer, he probably would've thought of it as a joke, but hearing such words from Dazai himself changed the situation. He could tell the younger man meant what he said and wasn't only trying to woo you for as long as you'd please the executive. 

"Well? Is there any more to the story?" 

"I only watched her dance, Odasaku."

"That's it?" 

"That's it." Dazai confirmed with a tender nod of his head, brown locks going with the motion. 

Odasaku looked at the clock - 00:30. For once, he felt like Dazai might see something more in a person than mere profit for one of his plans and he was looking forward to the day that epiphany would reach his friend. Hopefully sooner than later. If someone like Dazai was interested in someone simple like you then you could positively influence the man who had experienced nothing but violence, death and bloodshed for a majority of his life. "You should go, then. It's painfully obvious you want to see her."

"Are you sure?" Dazai asked, eyebrows pulled up in slight surprise. It didn't happen too often that he got to talk to Odasaku so freely without any prying eyes and judgment whispered behind their backs. In this bar, they were only Dazai and Odasaku. Not an executive of the mafia and a mafia member with the possibly lowest rank in the organization. "Why wouldn't I be sure? I can handle going home alone just fine."

There was no point in trying to argue with Odasaku. The man was awfully perceptive and aware of those around him and would probably drag Dazai out of the bar if it was in Oda's nature to do such things. Besides, Odasaku was always correct, right? 

"Then I guess I'll see you around, Odasaku." Dazai wrapped his pitch black coat around his slender form and left with a gentle wave of his bandaged hand. Oda merely made a noise of acknowledgement. 

He knew that one positive influence couldn't fix the trauma that Dazai had gone through, but love made man better, right? Deep down, Odasaku hoped that you would leave some kind of impact on his misguided friend, hoped that at least you could show him a bit of the light Dazai was so severely lacking. 

He hoped that life would be kind to Dazai for once. 

This time, Dazai was greeted by orchestral instruments put over a simple, consistent beat. No vocals accompanied the song, only the repeated words "save me, save me" echoing throughout the very lonely and cold hall. Yet, your mere presence seemed to fill the theater just fine. 

He noticed you wore shoes unlike last night. Your dancing style was also slightly different. It lacked the element of ballet, yet he found himself watching you all the same. 

How you kicked your leg out to the side, wiped your lips and for a moment, it seemed like you were getting ready to run only to pretend to slip. Skillfully, your hands caught your body before you rested on your back, hand reaching up in the air as if begging someone to save you from misery. The notes gently faded into nothing and found their end. 

"And here I thought this was a one time meeting, Dazai." You teased from your position on the ground, rolled your body up into a sitting position and gave the man a teasing yet welcoming smile. A few strands of hair stuck to your face, some stood in weird directions, yet Dazai would still describe you as lovely. Sitting down on the chair he occupied the last time, Dazai returned the friendly teasing. "I like to make sure I see pretty things several times."

Damn smooth talker. Oh, how you'd love to wipe that cocky smirk off Dazai's stupidly handsome face. Damn him for making you blush so easily when his words weren't even that special. "Whatever you say." You dusted off your pants, let a few joints crack and tilted your head to the side as you took in Dazai's form. 

The cold had bitten his cheeks red, a trail of goosebumps between the bandages around his neck and his jawline revealed itself to your eyes, he was shivering ever so slightly despite the coat clinging to his body. You couldn't blame Dazai - it was probably -10 degrees Celsius outside, some snow had frozen and the theater wasn't known to get heated up at night. Truth be told, you had also been shivering when you came in, but then.. 

Suddenly, your eyes widened in curiosity. "You're cold aren't you?" Dazai nodded his head slightly, not quite knowing where you were going with this. Of course, he was cold. What kind of question was that? Going to the very edge of the stage, you offered Dazai your hand and grinned from ear to ear with that silly blush still on your cheeks. "May I ask for this dance, dear sir?" 

Warily, Dazai's gaze flickered from your palm to your face, his reaction hesitant. "Oh, belladonna, you do know that I'm not the dancer here, do you?" He just wasn't the type to dance, wasn't interested in the art either. Dazai only knew a few basic steps that Kouyou taught him years ago, but he barely ever had to use his non-existent dancing skills. "Aw, come on~" A cute pout adorned your lips as you tried persuading the mafia executive with puppy eyes and hopefully arguments that would convince him. "I'll teach you something really easy. I promise it'll be fun!" 

Dramatically, Dazai threw his head back and covered his eyes with his palm, his loud voice easily filling the vast space. "How did you know that your mere beauty was my weakness? Truly, my only weak spot is standing right in front of me! How could I say no to a beautiful lady such as yourself?" At his antics, you couldn't help but roll your eyes, grab Dazai's hands and pull him on the stage with you. You noticed how calloused his hands were and wondered what his profession was since the rest of him seemed nearly dreamy. The more you thought about it, the more you could feel a headache approaching, though. 

"First, off with that coat. You're gonna get warm real quick." Contrary to what your words implied, you took the coat off for Dazai and tossed the article of clothing in a corner where it wouldn't get in the way. Another thing Dazai learned about you was that you were touchy - not that he mined. He loved touchy, pretty ladies. But you..you nearly made his heart skip a beat with how eager you were to dance with him. "I didn't know you were so keen on getting me out of my clothes, belladonna."

Maybe the day you'd smack Dazai's face would come sooner than you thought. "Pfft, you wish, don't you?" Laughing, you shook your head a few times and picked your phone up from the ground to choose a song. What song would suit the situation or even Dazai's persona? He sure liked to joke around, yet his attire told you that he worked in a serious field. "I wouldn't mind~" Dazai spoke in a sing-song voice, hell bent on teasing your for whatever reason. However, it was part of his charm, you concluded for yourself. 

In the end, you settled for a song played by only a piano. The mood was neither too sad nor too upbeat - it was a perfect mix of a tinge of sadness and the beauty of emotional clarity. 

Dazai let you hold one of his hands while the other rested on your back, your free hand placed on his shoulder as you gave him instructions. "Take one step forward. Then I'll follow by taking a step backwards." His foot was quick to be placed between yours, chocolate eyes finding the two pairs of feet rather interesting. Dazai simply didn't want to step on your feet. Yet. "Good. Now one step to the right and a step backwards."

Dazai did as he was told and came back to center with you in his arms, leading him around the stage. Moving like this with the peaceful music in the background and your laughter right in his ear, some sort of warmth started spreading from Dazai's core and filled every fiber of his being with each step he took. Or maybe it was just the happiness swimming in your eyes. "See? It's not that hard. Do it again, but a bit faster." You encouraged the inexperienced brunette, grasping his hand tightly in yours. Dazai, on the other hand, felt oddly vulnerable as you lead him, taught him something he usually never used. It was a skill Dazai didn't possess, yet he found comfort in the fact that it was you taking the lead, dancing him through the steps his body had long since forgotten. 

As time passed, Dazai gained security and picked up the speed until you told him that this was the perfect pace. At some point, your palm slid down his chest, the man's own palm coming to rest in the dip of your waist. Neither of you seemed to notice nor to care. Possibly, Dazai even dared to pull you closer, although he knew he shouldn't. Getting attached was a dangerous game, especially in his case. If Mori was to find out who Dazai found himself gravitating toward, he'd lose you. If the enemy was to know of your existence, he'd lose you. 

Everything he'd never want to lose, would eventually slip through his fingers like water. 

But there you were, in the blood-stained hands of a mafia executive, a content smile on your face and your heart beating in sync with Dazai's. The act of dancing with you was pure, probably the most common and innocent thing he had ever done, yet Dazai felt like it was wrong. 

You were an angel, giving herself to the demon himself. 

Yet, why did it feel so right? 

"See? You're much warmer now." You beamed up at Dazai, eyes closed and he knew that this view would haunt him in his sleep. He should've stayed at the bar with Odasaku, drank a bit and then call it a night, but no, Dazai had to be selfish, greedy even, to come see you again when you were nothing but a stranger. Why the hell did you make him feel welcomed like he belonged right here with you? Dazai wasn't part of your blissfully mundane life and if you knew how many crimes he had committed, you'd let go of him like you had just burned yourself. And maybe, you actually would end up scorching yourself if you kept touching him, being near him. 

"Yeah. It's your hard work though." Despite the emotional conflict raging on in Dazai's heart, he returned the smile you gave him, but it never quite reached his eyes. If you noticed, you didn't bother asking which the brunette was thankful for. How was he supposed to explain something he didn't quite understand himself just yet? "I argue we both worked hard." You gave his hand a squeeze. A gentle reminder that you were indeed there and not anywhere else. 

Eventually, hours blurred into one another and Dazai was back in his seat with you sitting next to him, talking about the one time you thought your toaster was broken, but you only forgot to plug the device into the socket. You were silly and clumsy, too, Dazai learned. 

"Oh, time flies, huh.." You looked at the watch wrapped around your wrist and sighed, the hint of a frown settling down on your face. The time read 4:53 am, the sky was still pitch black - definitely a downside to winter. A groan of annoyance rumbled deep within your chest, your head leaned back and eyes closed shut as you voiced out your frustration. "Why can't time go by a bit slower? I was really enjoying myself, too. Being here with you is better than going home."

"Oh? How so?" Dazai didn't expect you to be so open about your way of living, considering that he had met you not too long ago. But he did hear about some people who overshare personal feelings and issues, so were you a part of those people? Or did your trust already run so deep? "You see, I live on my own and it just gets..very lonely. It's almost depressing when there's no one to greet you, nothing to take care of. Agh, I said too much didn't I?" Maybe this was why your friends sometimes told you to shut up at a certain point. You rubbed the back of your head sheepishly, chuckling. "It's okay, don't worry."

But maybe that piece of information was what caused Dazai to offer to walk you home even though you only lived a 8-minute-walk away from the theater. 

Or maybe it was the fact that the sun wouldn't rise until 8 am. 

Whatever reason it was, you felt less lonely when you stepped foot into your home. 

The meetings continued.

Dazai would occasionally pop up during your practice in the dead of night, after a drink with Odasaku or because he was simply straying throughout Yokohama's streets like a lost dog. You had quickly learned of Dazai's suicidal tendencies, even scolded him whenever the brunette enthusiastically told you about a new suicide technique he had read about. Usually, those around Dazai didn't care about that, because it was normal and he would always show up the next day in one piece, overdramatically devastated that he was still very much alive. 

"Why are you so worried about a stranger's life?" Dazai had asked with a teasing tone lingering on the edge of his voice. He didn't expect a serious answer, didn't expect a response which he couldn't decode right off the bat. "Then who would I be dancing for?" A tinge of blue had colored your words; the color of the ocean. Beautiful to look at, but so unbelievably deep that one could drown in them if they weren't careful. It had left Dazai a tad bit confused; apparently, you had danced just fine without him as well, so why were you so worried about something as trivial as an audience now? Nevertheless, he had smiled - it was a gentle one. 

"I'm sure you would find another audience."

"But none of them are you."

He had felt special and maybe it was delusional of him, but the more time Dazai spent with you, the more he wanted you for himself. No one else should hear your laugh for they might ruin the sound. No one else should be on the receiving end of your teasing for they might corrupt you. No one else should see you dance for Dazai liked to pretend that you only moved for him and his selfish eyes. 

But that was wishful thinking. Just like writers needed readers, just like musicians needed listeners, a dancer needed an audience to gain energy from, an audience to perform for. Dazai knew he couldn't remain your only crowd forever. 

The worst of it all that Dazai did get attached to you. Attached to your clumsiness when you tripped on stage and lied that it was part of the choreography. Attached to the way you'd grin from ear to ear once your eyes spotted him sitting in his usual seat. But most of all, he got attached to your kindness. You always offered him something to drink or some of your snacks, offered to distract him from whatever was bothering Dazai some nights.

You offered him some peace and quiet, physically, mentally and emotionally. 

However, the more time Dazai spent with you, the more his premonition proved to be true. 

You ended up haunting his dreams like a ghost and twisted them into nightmares that he often had, but it was even worse now that you had stepped into his life. It was your fault for ruining his already morbid nightmares by popping up in them out of the blue. Each time Dazai dreamed about shooting someone, your hand would hold his wrist to stop him. Each time he dreamed about a new suicide technique, you'd cry out his name in the ugliest way with tears streaming down your cheeks and a painful strain tearing your vocal chords. 

But this night was so much worse.

"Dazai, we need your help in our current interrogation. The prisoner won't spill, no matter what." A buff man in a suit and shades resting on his nose deadpanned. With a sigh, Dazai put both of his hands on his desk and got up from the comfortable chair, silently wondering if his men were capable of fulfilling a simple mission, at all. He didn't know the details, busy with his own case and trying to come up with a new way to finally get rid of this life he never wanted. 

Empty footsteps echoed right through the cold hallways of the mafia, no word was spoken, no breath could be heard. It was a heartless place which had witnessed the deaths of so many souls that it could be the equivalent of a graveyard. The amount of bloodshed was gross, but necessary in order for the mafia to survive. 

As the heavy door made of pure metal opened, Dazai's eyes widened. He would recognize the person anywhere, no matter how big the crowd was. Cautiously, he approached your shaking form and kneeled down in front of your broken body. Deep bruises in various shades ruined your skin, no doubt you were suffering from a couple of broken bones as well. Upon a closer look, Dazai could see that you definitely lost weight as well. 

Dead eyes met his own, the withering shimmer of recognition floated in your orbs before it rotted away. "Please, kill me, Dazai." Your voice was weak, hoarse from the lack of hydration and screams you let out as the men in black tried to get information out of you. "What the hell are you talking about?" Grabbing your shoulders, Dazai put you into a sitting position and let your chin rest on his shoulders. You were broken beyond repair and it was his fault that you got caught in this mess, in his mess.

"Everything hurts. I'm in nothing but pain, anymore. Please, I'm begging you to take my life." Tears streamed down your cheeks at the mere thought of leaving this world behind. Death terrified you, you didn't know if anything was waiting for you on the other side or if your existence would simply vanish like someone had pressed the delete button. "Don't be stupid, I can get you out of here, I can-" Dazai was rambling and it was the first time you saw him lose his composure. "It would be an honor to die by your hands, Osamu."

Somewhere deep down, Dazai knew he couldn't get you out of this alive. The mafia would kill you. You'd seen their faces, knew where these creatures of the night operated from. Too high was the possibility of you running to the government and spilling all that valuable information. 

Too high was the possibility of his men letting you die a painful death when Dazai could give you a fast, painless way out. 

"I'm sorry." Dazai whispered in your ear, his lips tickled the shell of it and you basked in the gentle feeling for a moment. It was a luxury you wouldn't get to experience, again. A wistful smile settled down on your lips, your eyes closed. You were at peace. "It's okay, Osamu. I'll watch over you from the other side. But for now, this is goodbye."

Dazai's hands shook as he placed the muzzle of his gun right against your chest where your heart was peacefully beating. Why did he have to kill the one person he was attached to? One of the very little good things he ever had in life would slip through his fingers, no matter how desperately he'd reach out for you. Dazai took a deep breath - a futile attempt to keep his composure - and pulled the trigger. 

You immediately went limp in his arms, blood staining the white dress you wore and his own clothes too. The executive dropped the gun, held your corpse tightly in his arms and buried his face in the crook of your neck. He was glad no one was there to see him cry and sob into your hair. No one would ever see the way he held you for an hour, the way he grew terrified of how your body temperature dropped. 

No one would ever see the pure feelings he had towards you. 

"Goodbye, [Name]."

Dazai woke up in a cold sweat, spine as straight as a candle while his mind was slowly realizing that this was nothing but a nightmare. A bad one, too. "Crap.." The executive rubbed the side of his head, his heart still pounding in his rib cage from the vision that had just haunted him. He hated how you tormented his mind and occupied it like it was your own pretty place. You should at least pay some rent.

Checking the time on his phone, the numbers 02:13 am greeted him. At that time, you were normally still practicing, pushing yourself past your limits until you were so worn out that all you could do was lie on the cool ground, panting. Dazai threw the blanket away a little harder than needed, grabbed a pair of pants and a button down shirt. He needed to make sure you were still alive, he seeked your presence. 

Maybe you could tend to the foreign panic he felt. 

A strong wave of relief and comfort washed over Dazai as he saw you on the stage and the song found its end. His heart no longer beat erratically in his chest, but gradually calmed down. Slumping down in his usual seat, Dazai realized one thing. 

He was scared of losing you. 

And judging by the way you stopped everything and ran off the stage to sit down right next to him, you were worried about him, too. Ah, how nice it was to feel your hand cup his cold cheek, the pad of your caressing the skin right underneath Dazai's eyes. He had grown used to your touchy-ness and right now, it was very welcomed. A confirmation that you were very much real and alive unlike in the nightmare you'd unknowingly put him through. 

"Everything okay?" Carefully, you asked as Dazai didn't mumble a single word and let himself being touched without much of a comment that served the mere purpose to make you blush. The suicidal brunette you grew fond of snapped out of whatever thought he was stuck in, his head whipping towards you. Worry was laced in your eyes and while Dazai definitely expected the devastating look you gave him, it pierced right through a sensitive spot of his. It was weird. 

"Do you think there's a difference between good and evil?" It was an unusually deep question which Dazai had never asked you before. Normally, he asked you for silly favors like choking him to death or using your high kick to break his neck. You blinked once, twice.

Then you realized that this was Dazai being in a vulnerable state. 

A heavy moment of silence filled the air around you and weighed heavily on your slim shoulders, words got stuck in your throat. School, family and society would say yes to that question, but the more you thought about it, the more you realized that maybe it was a matter of circumstances, interpretation and one's own morals. 

With a huff escaping your lips, you sat back in your seat and stared at the empty stage. The one you wanted to perform on with the hall being sold out, one day. "Maybe there isn't that much of a difference, depending on how you look at it," you started and caught Dazai's attention. He had long since figured that you were capable of thinking and feeling for your own, but he wasn't sure if he expected such a response from a citizen. "If two nations are at war and a man kills someone from the opposing country to protect someone close to him and the same happens vice versa, then who is good and who is evil?" Eyes fluttering shut, you tapped your temple with your index and middle finger, Dazai's own eyes always set on you. 

"Then there's also Yin and Yang. A bad seed lies in every good thing, a good seed lies in every bad thing," your gaze flew to the wall high above you, the dim lighting of the theater emphasized the tender structure of your jaw, the light in your eyes and the delicate curve of your neck. "So maybe good and bad are a curious mix of one another and aren't that different from one another."

Gradually, the light returned to Dazai's eyes and dipped them into the rich, chocolate brown color you liked so much. The curve on his lips was tender, the ghost of a smile but it was genuine and came from somewhere deep within his heart. You didn't know where this sudden, fond look came from, but you knew you never wanted it to disappear. "Do you have a camera with you?" Thrown off by his sudden question, you could only nod. "Uh yeah, why?" 

"I want to take a picture of us." Because he feared he might lose you for real. 

Without prodding any more, you dug around in your bag for the black device and came back with the camera in your hands, a smile on your face. "Well then, let's take a fancy picture." You positioned the camera on one of the empty seats. Dazai casually leaned his weight against the stage while you sat on the edge, feet dangling in the air and your arms wrapped around his shoulders to pull the man closer. A tranquil expression was on Dazai's face as you did so and said "cheese!".

The picture ended up in the pocket of his trench coat, reminding him that he had a bit of light in his life. 

Lady luck certainly wasn't on your side this snowy day since she thought it was really funny to let your tyre drive over some sharp shards of glass. Swerving ever so slightly, you pulled up at a parking lot at an unfamiliar restaurant which was close to the frozen pier. "At least I didn't strand in the middle of nowhere." You huffed and tightly wrapped a scarf around your neck until the warm fabric covered about half of your face. It was a short walk from your car to the restaurant, but there was no way in hell you'd let the cold sink deeper into your bones than necessary. 

Once the engine died down, you got out of your car and entered the small restaurant which was visited by only one man. Red hair, blue eyes and a pleasant voice as he chatted away with who you assumed was the cook and boss of this place. Tugging off your gloves, the scarf soon followed and was placed on the empty stool next to you; at least it was comfortable. 

"Excuse me?" You politely interrupted the conversation between the two men and caught their attention. "My car died and I wondered if I could use someone's phone to get it towed away." The chubby cook was quick to respond as he handed you his old Nokia which was safely stored in the back pocket of his jeans. You thanked the man, glad that someone was willing to help and called the nearest auto repair shop. Ultimately, you didn't have any tyres in your trunk since you rarely drove. Oh, what a stupid decision that was. 

After a small phone call and receiving the information that it would certainly take some time to get to your car, you decided to at least order some food and a glass of water. It was the least you could do after the owner was kind enough to lend you his phone for approximately five minutes. 

While you were obviously enjoying your food, Odasaku couldn't help but wonder how high the probability of meeting you was. 

At first, he thought his eyes were deceiving him, but there you were, sitting a few stools away to keep a decent distance from the stranger who was Dazai's best and only friend. The description Dazai had given Oda was definitely more than accurate and not an exaggeration on his friend's part: the hair, eyes, height and way of dressing up matched Dazai's words all too well. Ah, what did the brunette say about you once? Right, it was like you demanded everyone's attention as soon as you stepped in the room, but in a very positive way. It was simply the aura you gave off. 

Odasaku had seen the picture, too. You were definitely the woman who had hugged Dazai in the picture, beaming into the lens like no one else was watching. 

"It's pretty cold, isn't it?" To Oda's surprise, it was you who actually struck up a conversation out of the blue. You wiped the small heap of snowflakes from your head, some of the melted snow had already dampened your hair and clothes. "You know Dazai, don't you?" Odasaku changed the topic, curious about what you thought of his dear friend, what your feelings were and if you had any concealed intentions. Admittedly, it was impudent of him to question your aim when Odasaku only knew you from words. 

Eyes wide, you blinked in slight confusion before it clicked. "Yes, I do. Are you..by any chance Odasaku?" You had heard about Dazai's friends from some of his stories that either included a bar named Lupin or his job which the brunette still hadn't revealed. Well, it wasn't like it was any of your business, anyway. "I see he has already talked about me, huh? Only good things, I hope." Oda pretty much deadpanned and you couldn't help the laugh bubbling in the back of your throat at how serious he sounded - just like Dazai said. "Of course I heard only good things about you! Don't worry about it."

In-between a quick introduction and a few bites of the pasta you had ordered, you heard the question:"What do you think about Dazai?" Warmth was quick to dip the apple of your cheeks in a reddish color as your brain thought of an appropriate answer and how far you could go. Sure, this man was Dazai's best friend, but in the end, Odasaku was still a stranger to you. "What I think of him?" You repeated more to yourself than to Oda and suddenly got..shy. Odasaku nodded wordlessly. 

"Dazai is an interesting person. It's hard to tell what he's thinking or feeling, yet being with him is fairly easy. Strikes me as someone who's definitely popular with the ladies and knows it, but he seems like a good guy, regardless. Pretty funny, too." For a moment your pursed your lips, fork poking around in your beloved pasta as you possibly shared too much, yet again. "I really like him, I guess.." Oda found no lie in your body language, in the way you talked or reacted when he asked you about the suicidal brunette. However, maybe you liked the mafia executive more than you realized or wanted to admit, Oda silently thought to himself. 

"I might be sticking my nose into things where it's not wanted, but you definitely caught Dazai's interest." Oda paid for his own food, the cook mumbling something about him not having to do it, but accepting the money, nevertheless. "Huh?" Did your ears betray you or did Dazai's best friend, the infamous Odasaku who the younger man looked up to so much, tell you that Dazai was indeed intrigued? Maybe, you should get your ears checked, soon. Just to be sure.

"If you weren't interesting, Dazai wouldn't visit you. He's not much of a dancer and even less interested in it. But you seem to have caught him in a way."

With those words being said, Odasaku bid his farewell to the cook and you who was still processing his words and contemplating how much weight to give that revelation. Sure, Dazai had told you several days ago that he wasn't a dancer, but you couldn't really figure out why he insisted on still visiting you. 

For the rest of the day, your heart beat a little bit faster than it was supposed to and this time, you were aware of the reason why. 

Your encounter with Oda should've kept your spirits high, but that wasn't the case unfortunately. This night was void of any stars, thick, dark clouds even hid the moon that was usually watching you akin to a certain brunette. 

But just like the moon, he didn't show up. 

As always, just like every night, you stretched and practiced in the empty theater. The more time progressed, the more you seemed to mess up and feed into your own disappointment which quickly turned into impatience mixed with frustration. It seemed like your legs had a mind of their own and refused to listen to you while your muscles were getting sore from the strenuous training you forced them through. 

You kept tripping over your own feet, painfully fell to your knees and sometimes managed to cushion the fall by dropping on your arms rather than your ribs. The soles of your feet ached, screaming at you to rest while a stifling soreness stretched itself throughout your muscles. But no, you couldn't stop. Not yet. Not when you were so close to perfecting the choreography, not when you were so close to feeling satisfied with the outcome. All you needed was more practice.

Sweat drenched your shirt and made your feet stick to the wooden floor in a disgusting way. But it would be worth it. The pain would pain off. You hoped. 

Stretching your arm out, you felt the pain in your shoulder, but you gave it your all nevertheless. As soon as you stood on one leg, the limb gave out below you and ruthlessly let another bruise bloom on your kneecaps. Red, blue, purple, green and yellow stained your knees. A pained groan strained your throat as you picked yourself back up again, palms red from the amount of times you had done so. It was a painful process, but you needed it. Feeling that pain was so much better than feeling the distress of the impending death as a dancer, again. 

Why couldn't you get that one move right? It was supposed to be easy and yet, you always failed over and over again. "Fuck.." You cussed underneath your heavy breath and wiped a few tears away. This was no time to cry over trivial things. The only reason why you picked up dancing again was to feel something. You had already died once and gosh was that painful. Oh, how you vowed to never die, again. 

Once more. Taking a deep breath to keep your composure under control, you kept your arms straight by your side and put your weight on your dominant leg. You were in the middle of pivoting with your chest nearly touching your upper thighs when you lost your balance and fell to your knees and elbows. This time, tears flowed, the music kept going without you. 

"To hell with it!" You yelled, threw your shoes against the wall in anger, frustration even and slid down the length of the wall. Heavy sobs rocked your body and you forgot that the vast space left an ugly echo of the disappointment you let out freely. At least, you were alone with no one to see you in such a weak moment. No one would see your tears and attempt to wipe them away. No one would tell you to cheer up and whisper sweet encouragements into your ear. 

All you needed was to let it out. 

It took you a while to calm down and find the bathroom of the theater. As you looked into the mirror, you were met with bloodshot eyes, messy hair and sticky clothes. Gazing downwards, you saw just how red your palms were and spotted a few cuts from mean splinters. Worn out, you rolled up the sleeves of your shirt and cringed at your bloody elbows, the red liquid was nearly dry and crusted around more severe bits. Just what you needed, really. 

A sigh slipped your dry lips as cold water hit your hands, the temperature somewhat soothed the ache and calmed you down until you saw how the water turned red. "No, no, no, no!" You called out, eyes brimming with new tears you didn't know you still possessed as you scrubbed your hands, forearms and elbows furiously. The minor wounds reopened, causing fresh blood to leak from the broken skin and stain the sink in an hideous crimson. 

That night, you scrubbed until it hurt. 

No song resonated with you. 

A few nights had passed when Dazai stepped foot into the theater once again and was welcomed by the sophisticated shadow your silhouette painted on the vast wall like the finest of paintings. Compared to the shadow, you were so bright and oh-so-short. He liked the contrast. 

Silently to not disturb the flow you seemed to be in, Dazai took his seat as always and let his eyes drink in of the passionate smooth image that was you. The executive wondered just how much strength you had to possess in order to quickly switch from sleek moves to sharp ones that made your legs and chest pop. He wondered how many restless nights you had spent dancing in your room, on your own with no one to watch. He wondered why you still danced, although it seemed to be such an exhausting process. 

All these questions were answered as Dazai merely watched you. The way you got lost in the lovely melody of the piano which was akin to a day in spring and spun on stage with your hands resting right above your heart, a happy grin on your face - that was the answer. Dance was something you were good at and found joy in.

Dazai was drawn to the way your shoes squeaked against the wooden floor, how your ripped jeans hugged your legs and the adorably oversized sweater. Everything was so you that Dazai found familiarity in your presence, peace and a bit of warmth which every human so selfishly craved for. 

"It's good to see you, again." You squatted on the stage, arms hugging your shins closer to your body and as the holes in your jeans stretched, Dazai immediately noticed the nasty bruises on your knees. Seeing these stains for the first time, he wondered how hard how hard you had pushed yourself to look like you had fallen into a bucket of paint. How often had you fallen and still continued although it hurt? No doubt that the bruises still hurt at this moment, but when Dazai's eyes fell on your face, he saw nothing of the hell you had put yourself through. The smile on your reddish lips was tender, your eyes twinkled in the dim lighting and you welcomed him like he was your dear friend. 

You never complained about the bruises on your knees. 

"This sounds like you missed me, [Name]." In all honesty, a small, soft part within the brunette hoped you had missed him just like you had occupied his thoughts during his own work. For once, Dazai wanted to be missed by you, even though he had been gone for less five days. Your legs dangled off the edge of the stage, palms behind your back and supporting your weight as you nodded your head slightly. "Honestly? I did. It's not the same when you're absent, Dazai."

The mafia executive came to stand between your legs, bandaged hands resting on your hips and your doe eyes looking up at him in anticipation. His heart was so easily swayed by you and lord punish him if he would ever do anything to hurt you. "You meant what you said, didn't you? About not being able to find another audience." Ah, how were you supposed to respond? This was the first time Dazai got so close to you, touched you and it felt oddly intimate how he spoke, how he looked at you. Your heart pounded in your ribcage. "I always mean what I say, Osamu. None of them would be you." 

Dazai was nearly cautious when he tucked a few strands of your hair behind your ear as if you were to break if he was too rough with you. He so badly wanted to deny himself of you, of your presence and the mere thought of you, but humans were sinful beings who always wanted the one thing they could break, taint and corrupt. When had you made Dazai so weak for you? A foreign emotion which Dazai experienced for the possibly very first time in his lonely life and he didn't want to let go of it. Rather, he wanted to protect and treasure it in fear it'd break. But what if Dazai himself was the one to shatter whatever was going on between you and him? 

Unconsciously, Dazai cupped your cheek in his hand and caressed the skin underneath your eye - much like you had done when the man had searched for you after the nightmare he surely wouldn't forget so easily. Maybe, Dazai wanted to caress all your bruises and wounds away. "Really? I reckon you'd find an audience of much greater size." His voice was barely above a whisper while you leaned into his touch, blushing. Slender fingers tugged on Dazai's tie until the tip of your nose poked his own, your warm breath fanning over his cheeks. "If I could choose between a crowd and you, I'd always choose you, Osamu."

Dazai's lips hesitantly brushed over yours, it was like the touch of a ghost to see how you'd react and you never shied away. Instead, you took matters into your own hands and pressed your lips to Dazai's, gently at first. 

After getting over his initial shock, the executive let his eyes flutter shut while his hand now cupped the nape of your neck, thumb still on your cheek as Dazai let his lips melt into yours. It was a sweet kiss shared between two people who weren't familiar with the concept of loving someone else, but the act felt so awfully right; like one had finally found a long lost piece of a puzzle and could finally finish the picture. 

You smiled once the kiss was broken, but Dazai was quick to chase your lips and engage you in another lip lock. This time, it was firm and you let your lips melt into Dazai's with your palms on his chest to feel his heartbeat. Ah, it was just starting to calm down, you noted and smiled into the innocent kiss. 

You felt warm all over. 

"Let me watch you dance one more time."

Your response came in the form of a simple nod. 

And so, Dazai sat on down on the stage and watched you spin or fall into a half-split to your heart's content. He had no interest in dance, but he was interested in you. 

Hopefully, he would get the chance to see you during the day, as well. 

But that wish wouldn't be granted until four years later, because Odasaku died.

Spring rolled around and cherry blossoms bloomed throughout the lively streets of Yokohama. Children's laughter filled the playgrounds with some much needed life, the sun smiled down at the city while the salty breeze of the shore cooled everyone down once in a while.

But the most important thing: The agency was as energetic as ever with Kunikida scolding Dazai for having tried to woo the waitress at Uzumaki's in an inappropriate manner. Something about needing her hands around his neck or something like that. Atsushi watched his superiors in shock and mild confusion as the scene continued. "Ah, right, I can't waste any more time on you. A client is on the way." The blonde detective brushed his palms off on his pants as though Dazai had dirtied them just by breathing. 

"Whaaat? But that means more work and even more reports!" Dazai complained and dramatically palmed his face, head leaned back to the ceiling as he dreaded the new amount of work a new client brought. Despite the brunette's constant complaints, Dazai still finished whatever was expected of him; it was Odasaku's wish he was currently living. "Quit complaining and make yourself look acceptable. You look like you just got choked." Kunikida scolded after having choked Dazai himself. 

The opening of a door went unheard as the two detectives kept arguing back and forth and was only interrupted by Atsushi greeting the client as politely as he could. He was told not to ruin the Agency's name and Atsushi was sure that Kunikida would drag him through hell and back himself if he was to mess up. "Welcome! You must be Ms. [Name], right?" Atsushi hoped you'd ignore the mess happening in the background. 

"Exactly. There's an issue and.." Gradually, you trailed off as you raised your gaze, let yourself take in the office until they landed on him. The man you thought had died due to his suicidal tendencies stood right in front of you among his colleagues. The man you had grown so deeply attached to was very much alive and still looked the same, though he had grown and matured a bit. Overall, his entire energy seemed to be a tad bit brighter. 

Your muscles froze, hands shaking as your eyes widened and silent tears rolled down your cheeks. Dazai seemed just as shocked; his gaze was deeply locked with your teary one as he too recognized you. How couldn't he recognize you? You were the first person to soothe the pain he felt even if it was only for a couple of hours. Dazai still carried the picture around. 

"U-uhm.." Atsushi was about to ask what was going on, but Kunikida stopped the rookie by putting a hand on his shoulder and leading him away from the scene. Kunikida didn't know the deal between Dazai and you, but he did know that you two obviously needed to talk about it without anyone interrupting. "Don't. You can ask him later."

"It's you Osamu, isn't it?" Hastily, you wiped your tears away once the shock wore off. How often did you wait for Dazai to come through the doors of the theater with an unreadable expression on his face? How often had you simply sat in the vast hall with Sensei in your lap instead of dancing? How often had you cried thinking that Dazai succeeded in taking his own life? "It's been a while, hasn't it, [Name]?" Dazai's expression softened upon seeing you again, although he was also scared. He never thought anyone from his past would see him ever again, and yet there you were. 

"Would you let me explain?" 

You should be angry at Dazai for leaving you behind just like that, but a bigger part of you was so relieved to see the brunette still breathing, standing in front of you with that same damn look lingering in the depths of his eyes. "You'd better." Dazai offered you his hand to take, hoping to take some of your anxiety and maybe some of his own fears, too. 

Luckily, Dazai found out you were still dancing. 

That night, he watched you once again and never stopped watching you.

#bungou stray dogs #bsd #dazai osamu #dazai x reader #dazai osamu x reader #bsd x reader #fic: swan song

[mikauzoran]

Lukadrien: Among the Wild Things: Chapter Two

Read it on AO3: Among the Wild Things: Chapter Two: Bond

“I’ve never seen you like this before,” Anarka noted as she wrangled her thick, blue-grey mane of hair into a braid.

“Like what?” Luka sighed, strumming aimlessly on his lyre.

“Moping like a lovesick fool,” Juleka supplied, swimming over to the kitchen of their home at the bottom of the lake that Anarka presided over deep in the enchanted forest. “Just ask him—her?—to go out with you. It’s not so hard.”

Luka snorted, grumbling, “Like it wasn’t hard for you to tell Rose about your feelings?”

Juleka bristled at the reminder of her disastrous confession to the naiad, salvaged only by Rose intuiting what Juleka was trying to say, returning Juleka’s feelings, and taking the initiative to confess to Juleka instead, saving Juleka the trouble.

“Who is the lucky person?” Anarka pressed, coming to sit on the couch with Luka.

Luka shook his head with another sigh. “It’s…not like that. I don’t know what’s wrong with me, honestly. There was just this mortal guy who came to my clearing last week, and I should have just eaten him, but…I didn’t.”

Anarka’s eyes narrowed as Juleka’s widened.

“I just watched him for an hour or two, and then he went away,” Luka continued. “But he came back the next day and the one after that, and on the third day I talked to him, and he was so close, I could have just pulled him into the river…but I didn’t.” Luka shook his head again, still mystified at his own actions. “I didn’t. I let him go. I changed in front of him, scared him off, told him to stay out of the woods, and now he hasn’t been back in almost a week, and I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I should have just eaten him,” Luka grumbled, plucking a sour note on his lyre in frustration.

Juleka winced, letting out a sympathetic hiss. “Yeah. That sounds pretty complicated. Sorry. Not touching that one. Maman?” She looked to their mother to field Luka’s dilemma.

Anarka frowned deeply, pursing her lips as she studied her boy. “Getting entangled with a mortal is never good, Luc. Trust me, I’ve had enough mortal lovers to know that it never ends well. They get old and sick, and they die on you, or else they want you to become mortal, and they get really huffy when you tell them no. It’s better if you just forget all about this boy and move on, Ma Baleine.”

Luka nodded listlessly. “It’s not like I’m ever going to see him again. He’s not coming back, and I’m not stupid enough to go looking for him.”

Though, the thought had occurred to Luka. He didn’t think the castle guards would let him waltz right in to see the crown prince, and Adrien would probably be upset if Luka took out all of Adrien’s servants just because Luka had the strong urge to gaze into those sylvan green eyes once more.

Luka cursed under his breath as he remembered the salty-sweet taste of Adrien’s skin. “I shouldn’t have licked him.”

Juleka broke out into giggles at her brother’s expense. “Oh my gosh, Luc. You licked him?”

The furrows in Anarka’s brow multiplied. “What exactly happened between you and this boy?”

“Nothing,” Luka groaned, getting to his feet. “I’m going to my bend in the river. I’ll be back later tonight.”

“You didn’t eat anything,” Anarka called after him in concern.

“I’m not hungry,” Luka informed without breaking stride, swimming for the exit out of their sunken ship and heading for his tributary.

 Luka had never expected to see Adrien again, so to find the prince sitting on the riverbank, staring down into the water when Luka arrived was more than a little surprising.

He hesitated, trying to wrap his head around the immense joy he was feeling before deciding what course of action to take.

Perhaps it would be best to stay silent and just watch Adrien as he had done the first two days, but what if Adrien had come back specifically to see Luka? What if Luka didn’t show himself and Adrien gave up and never came back again?

He couldn’t risk it. He had to say something, make his presence known.

Not wanting to startle Adrien, Luka lightly cleared his throat to get his attention.

Adrien jumped, gaze flying around the clear in search of the source of the noise. “Orpheus?” he called apprehensively.

“I thought I told you these woods were dangerous, Little Prince,” Luka scolded with a playful lilt to his voice.

Adrien smiled sheepishly, rubbing at the back of his neck and shrugging. “Well, you didn’t drown me the first three times I was here, so I thought I’d press my luck.”

Gradually, Luka coalesced into human form from the waist up, silently rising out of the water to rest his elbows on the bank, only an arm’s reach away from Adrien.

“I’m not the only thing you need to be worried about,” Luka sighed.

Adrien gave a start, whipping around and freezing when he realized how close Luka had gotten without Adrien noticing.

He gulped, not daring to move. “What else do I need to be worried about?”

Luka shook his head slowly. “These woods are filled with my kind, and there are any number of beings who would hurt you, eat you, or worse. You shouldn’t have come back.”

“…And yet I did,” Adrien sighed, posture relaxing. “…Are you going to drown me today?”

Luka hummed thoughtfully, pillowing his arms on the riverbank and resting his chin on top. “Not sure yet.”

Adrien nodded, accepting Luka’s answer. “Okay.”

After a beat of silence during which they studied one another with open curiosity, Luka noted, “You’ve got tear stains on your cheeks. Why were you crying?”

“Because I was sad,” Adrien answered readily.

Luka frowned. “Why were you sad?”

Adrien shrugged. “A lot of little reasons. Mostly it’s stupid things that my father did or said. Like, today he was supposed to eat breakfast with me, but he didn’t show up, so I was just sitting in the empty banquet hall all by myself missing my mother and thinking about how my father thinks I’m useless, so…” Adrien shrugged again, trying to play it off as unimportant, but his eyes had begun to leak fresh tears.

Luka rose up to take Adrien’s face in his hands and wipe at the tears dutifully until they stopped falling. “I don’t think I like your father.”

“He’s…not the easiest man to like,” Adrien admitted. “But I love him, and I want him to love me, so…I keep trying to make him happy, to make him proud of me.”

Luka pursed his lips, reconsidering paying Adrien’s castle a visit. “Is he the reason why you were crying those other days you came here too?”

Adrien frowned in thought, trying to recall. “I honestly don’t remember what I was upset about last week. He was probably a part of it.”

“He doesn’t sound like a good parent,” Luka grumbled, sinking back down up to his chest in the river. “My mother can be harsh sometimes, but I can’t remember an instance where she’s made me cry.”

Adrien looked away with a shrug. “My father makes most people cry. He made my mother cry a lot.”

Luka let out a contemplative hum. “…I’m sorry. That must be very hard for you.”

“Thanks,” Adrien replied with a weak yet genuine smile.

“…So why did you come back here? I thought I was pretty clear about the risk…even if I did want to see you again,” Luka added, curious as to what effect his words would have, if any.

Adrien’s cheeks coloured, and his smile gained strength as he looked off to the side. “I don’t know. I just…feel at peace here. These woods, this clearing…they make me feel safe, so…” He chewed on his lip, hesitating before adding in a rush, “and I couldn’t stop thinking about you.”

Luka arched an eyebrow, trying not to give away how pleased he was that he had been driving Adrien every bit as crazy as Adrien had been making Luka. “So you were able to overlook the possibility that I might pull you into the river and drown you? Do you have a death wish?”

Adrien looked away again, his expression going cloudy. “No. I don’t want to die,” he replied sedately, without the vehemence or conviction that Luka would have liked to have heard. “I just…sometimes being in danger doesn’t feel like a big deal. I don’t want to be dead, though.”

“You worry me,” Luka announced with a tired sigh, transforming the rest of the way and climbing out onto the bank beside Adrien.

Adrien watched him questioningly. “Uh…thanks?”

“Mmhm,” Luka replied, pulling his lyre out of the river. “You need to take better care of yourself. Lie down.”

Tentatively, Adrien did so, rolling over onto his side and gazing at Luka curiously.

“Take a nap,” Luka instructed, beginning to strum a calming melody. “I’ll keep watch and wake you in an hour.”

“…Thank you,” Adrien responded cautiously, not sure if he really trusted the kelpie, even if he did possess otherworldly beauty and made Adrien feel all kinds of things he’d never experienced before.

But then Luka started to sing, and all doubt and resistance fell away.

Peace and warmth washed over Adrien like gently lapping waves rising as the tide came in. His eyes slowly slipped closed, and he drifted off in minutes.

Luka kept playing for a while even after Adrien fell asleep.

He watched the young man completely helpless beside him, so tranquil and trusting. It would be so easy to drag him into the river and be done with it…but even though Luka had skipped breakfast, he didn’t really feel hungry as he gazed at Adrien.

He set his lyre aside and moved in closer, studying the contours of Adrien’s face, mentally tracing the lines of his eyes, his mouth, his nose, his cheek, and his jaw. He listened to the sound of Adrien breathing, took deep inhales of Adrien’s intoxicating scent.

When he was sure that Adrien was deep under the spell of slumber, he lay down next to the mortal and slowly inched forward until Adrien’s back pressed up against Luka’s front. Luka carefully wrapped his arm around Adrien and lightly rested his nose in Adrien’s messy blonde hair.

The combination of Adrien’s warmth, weight, and scent was indescribable, and Luka could easily see himself getting lost in this boy. He could barely contain a whinny of pleasure as Adrien shifted in his sleep, rolling over in Luka’s arms and pressing himself closer into Luka’s loose embrace.

Adrien sleepily blinked himself awake on his own about half an hour later, and Luka froze, fearing he’d overstepped his bounds. But Adrien smiled lazily, closing his eyes and setting his head back down on Luka’s chest, giving it a tired nuzzle.

“Are you going to drown me today?” he mumbled, the warmth of his breath sending shivers down Luka’s spine.

“Not today, Little Prince,” he somehow managed to find the presence of mind to reply.

“Okay. Good,” Adrien hummed, wrapping an arm around Luka and pulling him in tighter.

 Adrien kept coming back.

Not every day (not at first, anyway), but at least half of them.

They talked about various things: little, inconsequential tidbits from their days, the small moments that made up their lives. Over two months, it slowly added up until Luka was pretty sure that Adrien knew him about as well as anyone.

Adrien still asked every time if Luka planned on drowning him, and every time Luka gave a coy, evasive answer.

Adrien didn’t need to know that the thought of anything happening to Adrien made Luka feel physically ill and that the prospect of eating Adrien had long ago started to make Luka’s stomach roil.

#Lukadrien #Miraculous Ladybug #Miraculous Ladybug Fanfiction #Adrien Agreste #Luka Couffaine #Anarka Couffaine #Juleka Couffaine #Fae AU #Fae Luka #Kelpie #Kelpie Luka #Fairy AU #Fluff #Slight Angst #Mikau's Writings #Among the Wild Things

[carmenxjulia]

do you ever just think about how carmen's first reaction after hearing julia's voice in the fashion caper went from mild surprise to a smile? or how after she quickly disarmed julia, she gently put her gun back in her coat. or how carmen grabbed julia's hand? or how she made julia iin charge of her group despite barely knowing her? im still thinking about it and i cant fully explain why these small moments are so good? can you, please?

Absolutely. You’re talking to a person who created a 20,000 word fanfic based on a 45 second interaction. You want a Carmen and Julia analysis? I’d say you’ve come to the right place.

Yes, I do think about that scene a lot.

Let us begin.

Last season, Carmen and Julia interacted for less than a single minute. In that time, Carmen came to know and trust her enough to pass off the Magna Carta to her for safekeeping. And Julia got to have a real conversation with someone who was an international criminal and by some, might have even been branded as dangerous.

But Julia had always believed in her innocence and clung to the idea that there was more to each theft that most people didn’t see. Carmen leaving the Magna Carta was solid proof towards her theory that Carmen was one of the good guys. And it was a show of goodwill, a symbol of trust, that Carmen was banking on Julia doing the right thing and not taking full credit for its safe return (at least among her colleagues).

Then we get to season 2. Julia has, almost inexplicably, doubled down on her insistence that Carmen Sandiego is doing good in the world and is not actually a criminal at all. From the very first moment that we see her, she is trying prove her innocence. She asks Chase to wake up so that he can clear her name. She tries everything she can to wake him, and we as the audience are made to think it’s because she is concerned for his well-being… until the scene ends with, “we need you to tell us that she did not do this to you.”

Now, while I’m sure Julia would never wish death or permanent damage to Chase, she’s not trying to wake him because she particularly cares about him. He was rude and selfish and constantly dismissed her and yeah, Julia is the type of person who would still care after all that (refer to the first sentence of this paragraph), but it’s really really important to recognize that she’s not there for him. She’s there on behalf of Carmen.

So, what does that have to do with “The Fashionista Caper”?

We, the audience, are privy to Julia’s private conversations with Chief and other members of A.C.M.E. We get to see her defending Carmen, over and over, in the episodes leading up to episode 4. It’s not just speculation anymore! In Season 1, Julia had her theories, but was actively open to being proven wrong when provided with evidence to the contrary of her hunches. In Season 2, she is certain she’s right, and she stands by her belief that Carmen is good.

Carmen doesn’t see/hear any of that. She has literally no idea Julia has been defending her behind her back. No idea just how hard Julia has been fighting to clear her name with A.C.M.E. Not a single clue how conflicted Julia actually is, with having a job to do versus wanting to stand by the facts right in front of her.

She doesn’t see Julia again after the train incident (“The Chasing Paper Caper”) until they meet in Italy (”The Fashionista Caper”). All Carmen knows is that Julia is not as hellbent on catching her as Chase was, and that the Magna Carta were returned safely.

We, the audience, have a front row seat to watch Julia go from shaky theories to boldly proclaiming Carmen Sandiego is not who everyone thinks she is, despite seeming to be the only person who actually believes that.

Legitimately, Carmen has very little reason to trust Julia other than a gut feeling. There is no explanation for not only roping her into the caper, but immediately giving Julia her gun back and fully trusting she wouldn’t use it. Any other agent would have ignored Carmen’s request for help and gassed her right then and there. Carmen just inherently knows Julia is different.

We actually see an example of this just a few moments earlier. When Agent Zari tells Carmen to freeze, Carmen sets the gun off and turns it on her right away. When Julia shows up and demands more or less the same thing, the two have a little back and fourth banter. Carmen, no doubt, notes Agent Argent’s hesitation.

Carmen’s surprise no doubt came from her not expecting another agent, or at least, not expecting an agent to give her a chance to respond. Whereas Zari wasn’t afraid to get up close and point the gun directly at her face, Julia is standing quite far off. It probably took Carmen a moment to register who was speaking to her, and once she realized it was Julia, she relaxed, and smiled.

Julia helped her before, with the Magna Carta. So, why not seek her help more directly? Test the waters with the one agent who was willing to give her the time of day.

Not only that, but undoubtedly Carmen was re-formulating her plan to include Julia in it, right at that very moment. Honestly, the whole thing went far better with 4 people instead of the initial 3 (Carmen, Ivy, and Zack). So Carmen was probably like ‘oh hey that very reasonable agent from the train that I can probably count on to help me out if I also present myself as a sane and reasonable person.’ And then it actually worked.

But we can dissect this small change in her expression even further. Carmen is genuinely happy to see her/hear her voice. Not just because she knows Julia is raw and untrained and easily disarmed, no. Upon their first meeting, Carmen gave her the nickname “Jules”. In fact, Carmen has literally never spoken her full name, “Julia”. Even when passing off leadership in front of Ivy and Zack, Carmen still sticks to the Jules nickname. She doesn’t do this with anyone else. (Sure, Player is “Player”, but that’s purely upon his own request.) Maybe this is a reach, but, it feels like this indicates a completely different type of relationship and level of intimacy that Carmen shares with Julia and no one else.

Getting back on track.

Carmen probably took her hand as an extra precaution to prevent Julia from deciding to whip out her gun again. I mean, sure, it was also faster and easier to lead her by holding her hand. But also consider that the gun was holstered against her left hip, making it awkward to try to maneuver around her jacket with her left hand to try and grab it. With her right hand occupied, it would have taken too long for her to pull it out again, even if she’d tried. Honestly, taking her hand was the most practical action in this scenario, even if it was a bit intimate. It doesn’t have to mean anything, but it can.

It is also worth noting that although Julia believes Carmen is on the same side as A.C.M.E., she is probably rightfully confused starting from the moment Carmen takes her gun and then doesn’t gas her.

Julia’s orders from A.C.M.E. were to capture Carmen Sandiego in order to protect the Medici gowns. So when it turned out Carmen wasn’t planning to take the gowns, Julia had to decide that saving the dresses overruled the order to capture Carmen. The original mission she was given changed in a matter of seconds, making her have to pick a priority (Carmen or dresses). It also gave her an opportunity to work with Carmen and show A.C.M.E. she’d been right all along. But Julia, much like Carmen, had to trust her gut about this woman she barely knew, but had the utmost faith in.

As far as putting Julia in charge of getting the gowns to safety, that was probably the easiest decision of the evening for either of them. Carmen already knows Julia is one of the good guys. She doesn’t need to question her motives, at all. Not only that, but as mentioned above, Julia had already proven she could be trusted by ensuring the safe return of the Magna Carta.

Carmen knew V.I.L.E. wouldn’t be far behind, and dividing her attention could have been disastrous for the mission overall. I mean, she’s Carmen Sandiego, so, she could have probably handled it. But it was a much smarter move to put Julia in charge. She knew that Ivy and Zack were better at taking orders than giving them. She knew Player wouldn’t be able to coordinate well enough from his location. Carmen needed someone on the ground, right there, right then. Julia was available.

One final piece of this scene, that although it was not mentioned in the original ask, I feel is worth noting. Julia is actively worried about Carmen Sandiego’s safety. She outright asks, “what about you?” when Carmen instructs the others to get the gowns to safety. Why should she care? Her mission, saving the  Medici’s, is about to be complete. She’s about to really and truly prove herself to A.C.M.E. by being the agent responsible for saving the gowns. And yet she pauses, wanting to ensure Carmen is safe before she goes anywhere. A person that is supposed to be her enemy, although Julia has never truly believed that.

This is followed by Carmen pushing Julia back, not only urging her to leave with the gowns and Carmen’s own team, but moving her further away from danger as well as physically putting her body between Julia and potential harm. There are smashing sounds coming from the ceiling; clearly something bad is on its way. As usual, Carmen puts the safety of her friends before her own, which is a completely new experience for Julia. She is getting to see a caring and protective side of the super thief, one she was previously unaware of. Even for someone she barely knows, she’s willing to put her life on the line to save that of someone else.

And finally, even after Julia runs after Ivy and Zack, she turns back one last time to see how Carmen is doing. She doesn’t want to leave her behind, but ultimately realizes she has no choice. She certainly wouldn’t be any use in a fight. Plus, her number one objective is to save the gowns. Carmen Sandiego is probably going to get away. But the items she was sent to protect are now in A.C.M.E. hands. Job well done.

But Julia is left with the knowledge that Carmen Sandiego played an integral part in the success of the mission. She and Zari could not have saved the gowns alone (especially with the knowledge that Carmen was being attacked). Carmen Sandiego did in fact steal things- but it was to get the jump on another person or organization before they could do so themselves, smuggling the valuables away and returning them at a later date. Just as was the pattern Carmen laid out in Season 1.

Julia not only had her long-standing theory validated, but she got to see just how self-sacrificing Carmen could be. Putting herself in harms way while everyone else was encouraged to find somewhere safer. For someone labeled as a criminal, that was probably completely unexpected. Among a multitude of other unexpected things that had just happened. But that one may have been the most surprising.

All in all, there is a lot to say about this scene, and I could honestly go through it frame by frame and write a comprehensive essay. But hopefully this will sufficiently answer your query, and if not, feel free to send another ask.

#Carmen Sandiego #asks #anonymous #text #Carmen X Julia #Carmelia #Carmen #Julia Argent #Carulia #JuleThief #Carjules

[hamiltalian-creates]

Brothers Will Be Brothers 2

Summary: Virgil and Dee meet Remus and Roman at the mall and learn something not so shocking about them. Remus wants to play matchmaker, but Dee isn’t so sure about it.

Pairings: Brotherly Anxceit, Creativitwins, queerplatonic Dukeceit, implied Prinxiety

Words: 2,633

Warnings: Remus is Remus

[Virgil: Hey, Roman, u free?]

[Roman: Unfortunately so. Patton and Logan are binge watching Harry Potter again and they kicked me out for criticizing it as much as I did :(]

Virgil chuckled to himself. Roman never did know when to shut up.

[Virgil: My brother and I are going to hang out at the mall with his bf and I don’t want to just third wheel it, so he’s making me ask you to join.] [Virgil: want to come?]

[Roman: Of course! I finally get to meet this mystery brother of yours]

It wasn’t that Virgil purposefully hid Dee from his friends. It was just easier to distract himself from his worries outside of the house.

[Virgil: Great, I’ll text you in a bit w the time]

Virgil sighed and put up his phone before heading to the shower to rinse out his hair. He hoped Dee wouldn’t embarrass him to death.

[D: Hey, Rem, Virgil wants to officially meet you. Meet at the mall in a few hours?]

[Remus: OF COURSE?!?!?!! IS THAT A QUESTION?!?!?!?!?!]

Dee smiled to himself.

[D: It might be a bit awkward, he’s convinced that we’re boyfriends.]

[Remus: romance... barf.] [Remus: I’ll just explain when I see him! Easy peezy, lemon squeezy!]

Oh, simple minded Remus. When were things ever that simple?

An hour plus a hair wash and conditioning later, the two brothers were off to the mall, their respective “dates” on the way to join them.

“Promise you won’t go full dad-brother and humiliate me?” Virgil asked as he slumped in the front seat.

“Oh, I promise nothing,” Dee corrected. “If he doesn’t love me at my dad-brother, he doesn’t deserve me at my cool brother.”

Virgil groaned. “Stop trying to meme! You’re, like, 30.”

“I’m not even 21 yet!”

“Yeah, but mom and dad would’ve been a little over 40 and since you’re taking their roles, it averages out. So, that actually puts you at mid thirties.”

Dee smiled and shook his head. “Faulty math, but okay.”

Virgil smiled to himself and scrolled through Instagram as Dee drove, feeling relaxed for once.

When they got there, the two headed into the Barnes and Noble and waited, Virgil taking the liberty to wander through the aisles while Dee sat at the cafe and ordered himself a drink.

While he waited, he felt two familiar hands on him, one covering his eyes and one on his neck.

“Guess who? Guess wrong and off comes your head!”

Dee smiled to himself. “Is it Virgil?”

“Nope! You know who it is, Dee-Dee!” Remus pulled Dee into a tight hug and kissed his cheek. “Where is that little emo brother of yours?”

Dee shrugged. “Probably browsing the horror section.”

“I knew I’d find you in the horror section!”

Virgil jumped as Roman appeared behind him, putting away the book he’d began thumbing through. “And I’d find you in the kids section if you were here. What else is new?”

“Uh, I am meeting this brother of yours and, apparently, his boyfriend! That’s new!”

Virgil couldn’t fight back his smile. Roman was always so excitable, like a child on Christmas Day. “Yeah, whatever. We can all meet outside, unless you wanted something from the cafe?”

Roman shook his head. “Me and caffeine in public? Honey, that is a recipe for disaster.” Instead, he grabbed Virgil by the hoodie sleeve and pulled him out of the store. “What’s with the hood? First, we can’t see your hair at school, now not even at the mall, where nobody knows us?”

“I just did something to it.. No big deal.” He pulled down his hood, revealing his new, purple hair, and felt himself get kicked into freeze mode as Roman let him go. “If it looks stupid, blame Dee. He was being all sentimental and wanted to dye it for me.”

“No!” Roman exclaimed, a bit too loudly for Virgil’s liking. “I mean.. No, it looks really nice, Virgil. It fits this edgy thing you have going on.” He vaguely waved at him, gesturing mainly at the patched hoodie and combat boots.

Virgil tutted. “Alright, princey, don’t be weird because I found a look you couldn’t pull off,” he said, a clear joking edge in his voice.

Roman rolled his eyes and laughed a bit. “Fine. Where is this brother?”

Virgil checked his phone. Dee saw his text, so where was-

“You?!” Roman called out as he turned around, mortified.

“You!” Remus called back as he came out with Dee, clearly excited. He went over and pulled Roman into a bone-crushing, not-exactly-reciprotated hug.

“Woah, what’s going on here?” Virgil asked, trying to pry his friend away.

Remus let go and smiled. “Oh! Sorry, I guess I should introduce myself. The name is Remus Duke, half brother to this little drama queen!” He patted Roman’s head, who didn’t seem to quite hate the affection, but he clearly wasn’t a fan.

Virgil felt his mental jaw drop. This was the dumpster fire brother that Roman had described on multiple occasions?

“Oh, you did mention you had a brother, didn’t you?” Dee commented as he joined the three, pulling Remus away from poor Roman.

“Yep!”

“Half brother,” Roman corrected. “Same birth giver-”

“Different sperm giver,” Remus finished.

Virgil nodded. “Remus has his mom’s last name, Duke, and Roman has his second mom’s name, Prince.”

“Well, don’t say it like she’s any less my mama,” Roman added. “Mom and his dad broke up and mom found mama and they had me.”

Dee nodded, trying to keep up. “Well, isn’t this one hell of a coincidence?”

Roman nodded. “Yep.. Remus, I thought you were aro.”

“Still am! Dee’s my bestie, not my boyfriend, Virgil.”

Virgil hid an embarrassed blush behind his pale foundation. Okay, that explained that.

“Queer platonic partner! I finally found a name for what Dee is to me,” Remus hummed as he pulled said partner into a tight hug.

Roman smiled a bit. He and Remus were so different that they didn’t get along well most of the time, but he was still glad to see him this happy. “Well, why don’t we actually walk and talk instead of crowding the path?”

Virgil nodded. “Yeah, come on, you two are making a scene.”

Dee rolled his eyes. “Well, lead the way, then.”

Roman smiled and grabbed Virgil by his hoodie sleeve. “Hot Topic?”

“Hot Topic.”

Dee grabbed Remus’s hand and followed the two younger teens through the mall, stopping at Virgil’s favorite store. He preferred to wait outside, but Remus ran right on in to browse.

“What about that nerd store you like?” Virgil asked as he walked with his friend.

Roman shrugged. “Eh, I can go there later. You invited me, I figured I should ask you first.”

Virgil nodded and looked through a few t-shirts. “Thanks, Princey..”

Roman nodded and watched his friend. He wouldn’t say it out loud, but he’d developed a certain fondness for the emo boy. He wasn’t sure if it was a crush, but it definitely wasn’t what he felt for Logan or Patton, not at all. But he wasn’t sure Virgil would appreciate being put on the spot like that, so he didn’t say anything for now.

“I think I’m going to wait outside. I’m not really interested, but you keep looking,” Roman said after a few minutes, leaving as Virgil gave him a nod.

Remus saw his brother leave and slid right on in beside Virgil. “Hey there, Virgil. I heard you wanted to give me the boyfriend talk?”

Virgil was still mildly mortified by how wrong he’d been. “I didn’t know you weren’t into him like that, you guys just do a lot of couple stuff. I know when he goes over to your place at night, he makes it totally obvious when he comes home in the morning.”

Remus shrugged. “What can I say? I know how to work with what I have.”

Virgil’s nose scrunched up. “That’s so gross.. That is my brother, you know.”

“I know, but what’s the point in hiding it when you basically know everything?” Remus asked, grabbing the shirt that Virgil had been eyeing. “Nightmare Before Christmas? Seems right up your alley.”

Virgil rolled his eyes and stared at the ground. “Yeah, whatever, I’m a dark teenager. It’s just technically still a Disney movie and that’s Roman’s thing. It’s not like I want to accidentally match him, that would look stupid.”

“Aw, I think it’d be cute!” He glanced around a bit before leaning in. “Don’t tell him I told you, but I think he’s got a little crush on you.”

Virgil felt his face heat up as he snatched the shirt from Remus’s hands. “Whatever, that’s so stupid, you’re probably just picking on me, Dee probably put you up to it, I’m just going to go,” he rushed out before starting to leave, only stopping as Remus grabbed his arm.

“Wait, I didn't to embarrass you or anything. I may be aromantic, but I can spy a couple of pining teenager when I see them. Roman’s too much of a geek to ask you outright, so do you like him?”

Virgil hesitated for a second before shrugging. “I mean.. He’s not completely gross or anything. He’s just such a weirdo, I don’t know if I’d ever-”

“So that’s a yes, then?”

Virgil grumbled and sighed. “Yeah, whatever, fine, but if you’re just picking on me, I’ll kick your ass.”

Remus bit back a laugh at that. “Sure you will.”

Outside of the store, Roman nodded at Dee as he sat beside him, only glancing over as the other began speaking.

“So, you’re no good at hiding your crush on Virgil.”

Roman scoffed and laughed overdramatically. “Crush on Virgil? Wow, he’s just a friend. As if I really-”

Dee raised an eyebrow.

“... Yeah, fine, I like him.. But it’s just a crush, I’m not trying to do anything to hurt him.”

“You realize that Virgil’s in a fragile place? That if you were to hurt him, I’d legally have to hunt you down?”

And, honestly, Roman didn’t doubt that he would. “Well... Of course, I’d never even think about hurting him, but Virgil isn’t fragile.. He’s a really tough guy..” And, for the scrawny emo of the group, it was surprisingly true. The two of them bickered like crazy and while Patton always rushed to Virgil’s aid, thinking he’d be unable to handle it since the death of his parents, Roman knew the truth. Sure, maybe some of those comments got annoying, but he could tell that they didn’t hurt him too bad, no doubt due to the fact that he had an older brother.

Dee nodded. Good answer. So this Roman wasn’t just looking to treat Virgil as a damsel in distress. “But he does do very poor in the spotlight, something I feel is quite different from yourself.”

Roman let out the tiniest laugh. “Okay, that is true. But it’s not like I’d force him into drama with me or anything. He can do what he wants and I actually enjoy quiet time with him and our friends. Of course, I’d adore the chance to act with him on stage or to tell the whole school how great I think he is, but I’d keep it toned down, if the idea freaked him out too badly.”

Roman also wasn’t planning on forcing Virgil out of his comfort zone. “One more question: What makes you think I’m going to approve of you as his boyfriend?”

And that one kind of stumped Roman for a second. After all, he has an older brother of his own, but Remus seemed so much less strict than Dee about his little brother. This wasn’t a question he’d ever really thought of, especially since Virgil had been so adamant about keeping his friends and his home life separate. “I don’t know... Honestly, I don’t expect you to, but that doesn’t make me like him any less. If I have to bend over backwards to get your approval, so be it, but I really like him.. Not only that, Virgil is my best friend, I’d never dream of hurting him.”

Dee couldn’t help but smile a bit. Roman was still an awkward teenager, but at least his heart was in the right place. “Alright, fine.. You do seem like a good guy, and you are Virgil’s friend. I guess I wouldn’t have to kill you if you asked him out.”

Roman beamed and let out an awkward laugh. “Thank you.. I promise, I’ll do my best to be a good boyfriend..”

“With your life on the line, I’d hope so,” Dee shrugged.

Roman let out another awkward laugh. “Right... I’d expect nothing less than for a big brother to keep making that joke..”

“Who said I was joking?”

“Dee, are you tormenting my brother? That’s my job,” Remus said as he came out from the store, Virgil trailing behind him.

“This is why I don’t go anywhere with you, you’re more embarrassing than mom and dad ever were,” Virgil grumbled, pulling his jacket hood down over his face with his free hand, the other preoccupied with his Hot Topic bag. “I only have three friends, could you not drive them away?”

“We were just talking,” Dee replied in a far-too-innocent voice. “If he felt threatened by my words, that’s not completely my fault, is it?”

“You are the worst..” Virgil stood beside him and sighed, pushing his hood back down. “Are you done embarrassing me or can we move on to another store?”

Roman smiled and stood up. “It’s fine, Virgil. I have Remus, I get it.”

Virgil nodded. “Right.. Let’s go to that nerd store you like so much.”

“Yes!” Roman cheered, grabbing Virgil by his sleeve and pulling him through the mall, Remus yanking Dee behind them.

Despite the chaos that just came with a friend like Roman, Virgil couldn’t help but have the time of his life. He loved Patton and Logan, but it was great to not have them treating him like he needed to be protected and Remus was there to make sure Dee couldn’t do the same, though he couldn’t be blamed, being an older brother. It was nice to be with someone who didn’t let Virgil’s anxiety define him, even if it meant that Virgil occasionally got overwhelmed. It was nice to have Dee there to help when that did happen. It was just... It was a nice day. A great day, even.

“You’ve been smiling since we got in the car. What happened back there?” Dee asked as the two pulled up at the house.

Virgil tried to shrug it off, but there was no hiding his tiny grin. “Roman asked me out.. And I said yeah.”

Naturally, Dee couldn’t stop himself from feeling at least a little bit of anger, but he hid it. That smile on Virgil’s face said it all, he didn’t need a parent right then, he needed his brother. So, Dee pushed back his protective nature. “I knew he liked you. When’s the wedding?”

Virgil scoffed and pushed him a bit. “You’re such a weirdo. It’s just a date, a first date. We’re talking about it later, though...”

Dee nodded and let them both inside. “Just let me know when so I can clear my schedule.”

“I’d rather date Remus than let you chaperone us, I’m too old for that kind of thing,” Virgil grumbled as he walked towards his room.

Dee chuckled and locked the door behind them, sighing. He didn’t know if it was being a brother or acting as a parent, but either way, Virgil was growing up too fast. And, as much as he hated it, Dee was just going to have to deal with it.

#fanfic #fan fic #fanfiction #sanders sides #deceit sanders #virgil sanders #roman sanders #remus sanders #ts anxiety #ts roman #ts virgil #ts deceit #ts duke #ts remus #duke sanders #anxiety sanders #platonic anxceit #brotherly anxceit #prinxiety #dukeceit #queerplatonic dukeceit #creativitwins

[zi-i-think]

13 | Shame and Guilt

Pairing: Zuko x Ama (OC)

Word Count: 4600+

.☽☼☾.

~ Ama ☾ ~

         "We're pushing back the wedding." Katara firmly said. After calming down and letting everything process from last night, she went from being quiet and frightened, to loud and furious.

         "Is that really the best way to go about this?" Aang tried to rationalize with his fiancé. He was definitely angry at Azula, but he still kept a cool head.

         "Azula just interrupted my bachelorette party and threatened Ama." She motioned her hand at me.

         "She threatened you." I corrected her. I'd been silent the entire conversation and let the others tell the story of how Azula crashed the party. But I couldn't let Katara pin me as the only victim here.

         I looked around the meeting room, since the living room was still being cleaned up. Seeing the faces of my longest friends and family. "She's threatening all of you to get to me." I tore my eyes away and got up. "It's best I just leave. You all can just enjoy the wedding without worrying about Azula and be safe without me here." The others immediately started to protest against my suggestion, but I ignored them all. Allowing for my feat to take to wherever it chose.

         My breathing was getting more rapid. Each time I closed my eyes, I'd picture Mulan's lifeless eyes. Then I'd blink again and see the cold eyes of her murderer. I just needed a moment. A moment to understand everything. A moment to let out my frustrations.

         Their killers was in my house. He looked right at me. And somehow, they were working with Azula, who also claimed responsibility for Mulan's death. And in some way, that I'm not understanding, was connected with Suh, who might not even be the real Suh and was instead her insane sister Leiza. And Azula's motive was that I beat her in a fight that happened roughly 7 years ago?! None of it made sense.

         I had absentmindedly brought myself to the training yard. My body knew better than my brain what I needed. There was still a line of human shaped dummies left out from the warriors training earlier.

         Perfect.

         I went over the the opposite side of the yard, shaking my arms to prepare to let out all of my frustrations. Widening my stance and holding my arms out next to me, I began to bend the water in the snow.

        I turned it into an ice spear and flung it at one of the dummies, hitting it in the chest. But it wasn't enough for me. I sent another ice spear to the next dummy. And then another. It turned into an endless stream of ice spears, one after the other sticking roughly into the hay-filled figures.

         In one final move, I bent an entire row of spears beside me. My hands were up to my chest, palms facing the targets. With a rough skip forward and pushing my arms out in front of me, and the ice spears flew forward, sticking into the fake heads. The poor dummies were pierced with multiple ice spears. Some in the chest, arms, neck. There wasn't a single body part left untouched.

         My breathing was fast as I tried to catch my breath and I felt beads of sweat dripping down my forehead, despite the freezing temperatures.

         "I was always told that I was the one with anger issues." Zuko's voice came from behind me.

         I sighed and turned my body to see him standing by one of the blue pillars. He still wore his more casual, warm attire, and his long hair fell perfectly on his shoulders. He looked a little unsure whether he should come over to me or if I should go over to him. I decided to make it easier for Zuko and walked over to him.

         My arms were crossed over my chest and I avoided any eye contact. "Did the others send you here to talk to me?" I grumbled the question and sat down on the wooden bench.

        Zuko took a seat next to me, leaning his elbows on his knees. "No, I just thought you could use a friend." He said sincerely. "You're picking at you nails again." I looked down, seeing that I was indeed picking at the dirt – that wasn't even there  – underneath my nails. A nervous habit I've had since a little girl. I immediately stopped and dropped my hands on my lap. "You know you can talk to me about anything."

         I nodded, moving aside some of my hair from my face and tucked it behind my ear. I figured the two of us would be here for a while and got comfortable, leaning on the backside of the bench and bringing one leg up, hugging it to keep it in place."Last night wasn't the first time I've seen the two men who attacked us."

         Zuko furrowed his eyebrows and glanced down, somewhat taken aback but that new piece of information. "Why didn't you tell anyone?"

         "Because..." My shoulders raised and I shook my head. "It's a... sensitive subject." Zuko stayed silent, leaving me room to either continue speaking or for anything else I needed. "Mulan didn't die because she was sick. She and three other friends were murdered by the same men who just broke in."

         My friend sat up, leaning back and crossed his arms. He looked puzzled, obviously. Not only did I tell a lie about Mulan's death, but I also failed to tell anyone about the rest of the Miraculous Bastards. "Why did you lie?"

         "Because I'm ashamed of myself." I answered truthfully, keeping my eyes focused into the distance to avoid seeing his reaction. "After they murdered them, I held so much anger and pain I didn't know what to do with it all. I eventually tracked them down... and I bloodbent them. I almost killed them." I paused, recalling that horrid night was not something I liked to think about, much less talk about. "I would have been a monster, just like them."

         "But you didn't." Zuko slid closer to me, our shoulders just barely grazed against each other.

         "No, Zuko." I said in frustration, letting my leg fall off the bench and shut my eyes tightly, a lame attempt to hold it tears of shame. "It's not that I almost did it. It's that I wanted to. I loved the feeling of being able to kill them right then and there." I clenched my jaw, my anger being direct to myself. "Even today, I wish I did it. And I hate myself for it."

         "Don't do that to yourself." Zuko's warm hand grabbed mine, and kept it on my thigh. I swear my heart skipped a beat when that happened. "The grief of losing someone can make people feel and do things they never thought they could. It's how you choose to better yourself that matters. Speaking from personal experience."

         A light smile tugged at my lips and I rested my head on his shoulder. "I was at the Eastern Air Temple for eight months trying to, I don't know, be more in touch with myself? Achieve peace? I just couldn't move on like nothing happened or come back to the South."

         "Did it work?"

         Did it? Being at the temple helped me come to terms with the deaths of my friends. But the guilt hadn't exactly all gone away. And then with the murderers coming back to haunt me, all of the negative feelings that I've been working of getting rid of were just coming right back.

         "In some ways more than others." I came to the conclusion out loud. "I think knowing that Azula is also involved, it's a little more aggravating."

         Zuko let out a long sigh, like he wasn't expecting for our little investigation to get this messy. Well, neither of us really expected for this to happen. "Don't forget about Suh. She's been a little more on edge lately." He reminded me.

         "Do you think it might be time that we told the others about Suh?" I asked. It was a valid question. There'd be more eyes on the woman, especially since there were threats made. The others deserved to know that there was a [possible] mole in our mists.

         "Pretty sure we have to at this point." He replied. I took my head off his shoulder and nodded slowly. It was a quiet for a moment. I don't think either of us wanted to go back inside yet. The cold air was tolerable, but Zuko's hand was still on mine, and I didn't really want to move.

         "You know, Zuko, I think you've gotten easier to talk to." I stated turning my head to look at him.

         Zuko chuckled with that damn smile that was as bright as the sun. "Well I hope so. I've been told my social skills have improved a lot over the last couple years." I nodded in agreement. He spoke more naturally than years ago when there was a slight hesitation in each action or choice of words. "I have to say, it seems easier to talk to you also."

         "Shit, is this what getting older is like?" I quipped, an intrigued smile on my face as I moved my body to face Zuko better. I tucked one leg under the other and my side leaned on the backside of the bench. "Aang and Katara are getting married. Soon it might be Sokka and Suki."

         "Mai and Kei Lo have also been going strong." Zuko added, pointing at me like he was reminding me. "I wouldn't be surprised if there was an engagement sometime soon." I smiled fondly and placed a hand over my heart.

         My nose scrunched up at a new thought. "And not long after kids." I giggled while Zuko shook his head with a chuckle.

         "One adventure after another." He was right there. "But if all kids are like Kiyi I'd be incredibly grateful." Wow. It honestly didn't feel like it's been years since Zuko found the other half of his family. I mean, Kiyi was 6 when we met her. Now she was 12.

         "I think you're forgetting about the baby part." I raised an eyebrow at him, getting a huff of a laugh. "Like the diapers and waking up in the middle of the night. You know, the nightmare parts."

         Zuko groaned and threw his head back. "That sounds like a wife problem." He joked.

         I scoffed and punched his shoulder. "I pity the woman who marries you."

         "Yeah, me too." He responded with a dismal and sort of sarcastic tone.

         My jaw dropped and I shook my head. "Oh-uh. I thought you were done with the self-depreciation."

         "I was just joking. I think I'd make a great husband." He cockily raised an eyebrow, like he was teasing me. "And the lucky woman would ideally be beautiful, smart, maybe a little bit competitive." Is he? Flirting? I wasn't really sure, after all. It's been a few years. Not to mention, Zuko's my ex. We had a sort of teasing relationship because of it. But the way he said that. It was kind of like he was directing it at me.

         "I hate you." I rolled my eyes and scoffed.

         "No you don't." Why does he do that?

         How did we even get to this point in the conversation? Marriage and babies? Now he's teasing me. He knows that he was making me flustered. He has to. I wasn't exactly good at hiding my emotions all that well. There must have been a light blush on my cheeks at the least.

         Zuko and I were looking right at each other. The silence was comfortable. I found myself looking over his golden eyes and then my eyes flickered to his pink, smirking lips. I gulped. On Tui, I hope I don't regret this.

         I leaned in quickly, placing my lips of Zuko's. And for a moment, I thought he was kissing me back. But he pulled away a moment later. "Ama..."

         I sucked in a breath and covered my mouth with my hand. "Spirits. I am so sorry." I'm most definitely blushing deeply at this point.

         "It's okay..."

         "I read the signs all wrong. I'm an idiot. I'm sorry." I completely ignored him and stood up from my seat. I was so ready to leave in embarrassment. "Let's just forget that I even did that-"

         I felt Zuko's hand grip my wrist and turning me around, but I covered my eyes with my other hand so that I wouldn't have to look at him. "You can uncover your eyes, Ama."

         "I'd prefer not to." My voice was small, one that I don't recognize all that much. It only came out when I was embarrassed or sad. And at the moment, I was probably both. Just mix in some self-hate.

         I heard his fruity voice chuckled lightly at me. "Then just listen when I say that I want to kiss you. It just doesn't feel right if I'm still with Suh."

         I removed my hand and gave him a puzzled look. "But you don't even like her."

         "That is true, but she's still under the impression that I do." He said matter-of-factly. "No matter how bad she might be, I can't do that to her."

         I was sort of taken aback. A small part of me didn't really care. Suh was so rude that it didn't matter to me how she would feel. Except this wasn't as much about Suh as it was about Zuko. He had his principles and morals; and he'd be damned if he strayed from them. "I can respect that." I nodded, but kept my gaze away from him.

         Zuko's hand reached to the side of my neck, his thumb skimmed on the curved of my jaw tenderly. He made me look up at him, instead of being fixated on a pillar in the distance. "But I promise you that once this is all taken care of, I will kiss you one hundred times to make up for it." His forehead leaned on mine. It was such a small gesture, but it left me longing for more of him.

         I bit my bottom lip lightly in a mixture of delight, nervousness, excitement, probably a few other emotions. I just felt like things were starting to fall into place. It's kind of funny considering only thirty minutes ago things felt completely opposite of that. "I'm going to have to remember that."

         Zuko grinned and then glanced at the palace entrance. "We should probably get back to the others." I nodded in agreement. "And maybe keep this between us." He motioned between the two of us.

         "Sounds boring, but alright."

         "I just think it might be a bit overwhelming to tell them that Suh is a spy and then that we'd be getting back together." Again, he had a point. But I knew that he was probably just trying to refrain from any teasing or feeling flustered.

         We headed back inside together, just standing a few feet apart to avoid any suspicions. The meeting room was much quieter than when I left, but still as tense. Everyone perked up once seeing the two of us enter the room.

         Katara muttered something to herself and stood from her seat to heartily walk over to me. "Spirits, Ama. You can't just walk away from us like that." She groaned, wrapping her arms around my shoulders to hug me.

         I hugged her back and rubbed her back soothingly. "Okay, sis. I appreciate the concern." Katara pulled away from me when I said that and gave me a weird, skeptical look. Probably because my mood had changed since I left.

         "Where's Suh?" Zuko wondered and I perked up. I turned, scanning the room. Everyone was seated at the rectangular table, except for Suh.

         "She left shortly after you did." Sokka half-cared, shrugging his crossed arms. "I think it was something about how all of this stress was going to make her breakout and needed to go on a walk."

         Zuko and I gave each other a side glance and then looked back at the group. Zuko sighed loudly and the two of us went over to our seats from earlier. "Yeah, we need to talk about Suh." he started.

         "I was right about her this entire time and she's a huge fucking bitch." I couldn't help but spill, lightly slamming my hands on the table. Katara groaned and rolled her eyes, tired of hearing me voice my opinions of her. And I could hear Ty Lee and Suki giggle from a few seats away.

         "Ama, how many times are we going to have to tell you. Suh is not evil." Katara sighed, shaking her head disappointedly.

         I sucked in breath out of frustration. "Okay, listen. Suh is a spy who has been working with Azula for years. And Suh probably isn't even her name. She killed her family and took her sister's identity. She's a master manipulator and liar."

         "Do you have any proof of this?" Aang asked with an unbelieving tone and a concerned look for me.

         I huffed and fell back into my seat before motion towards my –technically still– ex. "Zuko, you explain cause they all think I'm a liar." Everyone's eyes turned to the Fire Lord who was faintly shaking his head at me.

         Zuko leaned his arms on the table, prepared to explain the deal with Suh. "I have a theory that Suh has been working with Azula since the kemurikage incident. I've been keeping her close for the past couple months to try and find Azula." He turned to give Katara and Aang an apologetic look. "I never thought that it would lead Azula here. I'm sorry."

         "But the kemurikage incident was years ago." Aang pointed out. "Would they really work together for so long?"

         "Suh is a determined person. Whatever she wants she gets." Zuko informed. "There's a possibility that Suh's took her sister's identity, making her Leiza. Leiza was taken to the same mental institution as Azula with a severe obsessive personality. She's controlling, manipulative, calculating. She and Azula needed each other to each their goals."

         "So if Azula's goal was too get to Ama, what's Suh's?" Katara wondered.

         Zuko shook his head and shrugged. "My guess is to be Fire Queen. After all, I met her through the Council's matchmaking attempt."

         "Her obsession might be with you also." Mai added in her usual dry tone.

         "I don't think a person would go through that much trouble just to marry a guy they've never met." Suki disagreed with a questioning undertone.

         "Right, what would I know. It's not like I've been around the two for the past six months." Mai shot back sarcastically and then gave Zuko a deadpanned look. "She's been hanging off your shoulder since you two met and you said she's clinically diagnosed as obsessive. It's not that hard to piece together."

         "Or a mixture of both wanting to be Fire Queen and to be with Zuko." Ty Lee proposed the thought, her finger rested on her chin investigatively. "Either way, I can believe the theory of her working with Azula. Suh kept looking out the window before the attack and was quick to get us out of the way from the crash. I can't explain it, but it felt like Suh was trying to protect me last night."

         "There's one more thing." I sighed. "The attackers who were working with Azula were the same ones who killed Mulan and some of my other friends."

         "What!?" Sokka gave a shocked reaction. "Sis, how much have you been hiding from us."

         "Look, there's a lot to unpack! Okay! I'll explain later. But now we know that there's a connection between Azula, Suh and the guys who killed the people closest to me a years ago! They're pulling strings on me and I want to stop them. So can we please gloss over that for now?" I snapped. Already regretting it because of the silence in the room.

         "So what now?" Haru spoke up. Damn it, Haru's so quiet I always forget he's here.

         "We confront Suh and force her to tell us everything she knows." Toph slammed her fist on the table. She was fuming, and honestly, it scared me. It was probably over the fact that Suh had been able to lie and Toph couldn't detect it. But Suh didn't just lie. She knew how to word things so strategically, that she didn't even need to lie half the time.

         "We can't do that." Zuko refused.

         "Why not?" Toph raised her voice. "We can force her to tell us what Azula is planning and be one step ahead of her."

         "She won't spill anything." The firebender said more firmly. "She's been able to avoid any questions directed to her about her personal life. She was able to lie to you. Are you forgetting the part where I said that she's manipulative and calculating?"

         "So we just wait for Azula to crash in again?" Katara tensed, running her hand through her hair and pacing the floor. I hated seeing my sister so stressed. She should be nervous for her wedding next week. Not worrying about some deranged women who could crash it and hurt people.

         Aang stood from his seat, the wooden chair scraped the floor loudly, getting some attention towards him while he walked over to my sister. He took her hands into his and made him look at her. "Inhale." He directed to breath in deeply and she followed his example. "Exhale." He let out a long breath after a moment.

         Katara turned to look at everyone with a more composed demeanor. Walking back to the table, she and Aang took a seat. "The wedding is still happening as planned." She gave her decisive decision. "But we need more guards around the palace and at the wedding until this is dealt with."

         "Sound's like a job for me." Sokka pridefully pointed at himself with his thumbs.

         "You don't think." I gasped sarcastically, letting my arm fall on the table. "Didn't know that was the kind of thing a commander of the tribe could do." There was a few faint giggles at my remark while Sokka gave me an unamused frown. I couldn't help giggling at myself either.

         "Haha. Very funny, sis." He rolled his eyes and only sat up in his seat straighter to give off some sort of authoritative attitude.

         Katara's hand shook her head disappointingly at us. "And I want at least one person to keep an eye on Suh at all times." She requested, or more like demanded.

         "I think Zuko's already got that part covered." Sokka firmly hit Zuko's back and gave him a thin, amused smile. Zuko just rolled his eyes at him and turned his head away. Our eyes locked and I lightly shrugged, communicating that I didn't know what Sokka was hinting at.

         "So, should we be worried about where Suh is right now?" Haru reminded everyone that while we were hear talking about the obsessive woman, who had excused herself a while ago. We all shared a concerned look. Because the answer was probably yes. We should be concerned.

.☽☼☾.

~ Azula ϟ ~

         "Azula!" I heard the obnoxious voice of Suh shout at me. I didn't flinch, though. Even if I was surprised that she was here; disturbing my meditation. "Azula, you were right." I could hear her step beside me and plop down on the floor.

         I sighed irritatedly and keeping my eyes closed to keep a semi-meditate state. "You're going to have to be more specific, Suh. I'm right about a lot of things."

         "Ama still has feelings for Zuko. She kissed him." She informed me with her angered and distressed tone. The news was interesting to me. Interesting enough to urge me out of my meditation and open my eyes.

         "Oh did she?" I cocked an eyebrow up and gave Suh an interested look. I couldn't say I was surprised. Ex or not, those two were eventually going to end up with their tongues down each other's throats.

         "Zuko didn't kiss back. Obviously." Suh rolled her eyes with disgust for Ama but confidence for herself.

        I found that hard to believe, but didn't want sit through Suh's confident rants that Zuko loved her. "And what happened after the kiss."

         "I didn't stay long after." Suh shrugged like it didn't matter. "Zuko pulled away from her and that was enough proof for me that he's way over her."

          My eyebrows raised and I scoffed at her. "You're joking, right?"

         "No, I'm not." Suh tilted her head and leaned back on her arms as she sat, like she was challenging me. "I trust Zuko. It's Ama that I don't trust."

         I couldn't believe what I was hearing. Suh was a smart girl. How could she not stay and get more information. But not only that. This wasn't the first time that I'd been put second because of Zuko. I wanted to shout at Suh. Knock some sense into her even. She was too self-assured for her own good.

         I didn't think for a second that Zuko would have any emotional attachment to Suh. She was just a pawn in my game. I would be the last person to admit that even Zuko had half a brain. He'd keep Suh around to get to me, thinking I wasn't on to him. Ha! I'd always be one step ahead of him. Suh was only needed to get me inside information that would get me to Ama. To get a peak at what could break her.

         I took in a deep breath and avoided looking at Suh. "Did you at least hear what they were talking about before you so idiotically left?"

         "Ama recognized one of your goons." Suh half-cared, primarily focusing on her nails. "She also expressed that she liked bloodbending. She still want to kill them for killing Munal."

         "Good to hear not all of your poor eavesdropping went to waste." I sneered. The information was good. It meant that things were going to plan. All of the information was probably sinking into the winey waterbender's head right now. It was finally settling that I was behind her friend's and girlfriend's death.

         Well, to be fair, that was an accident. How was I to know that Bohan and Puha were two bloodthirsty criminals who were more than angry to have a heist ruing by Ama and her group? I thought they were just regular criminals. Not that it matters. It's not like I had any guilt about it or that the guilt from a lifelong of fear mongering was getting into my head.

         I was stable, clear-headed, and perfectly fine. I've accepted that I'm a nuisance. I took pride in it even. I'd planted the seed of doubt into Zuko's brain years ago. Now it was Ama's turn.

         She had the chance years ago to kill me, but she chose the more honorable path. She could have given in to those desires that she's feeling now. Turns out I just wasn't pushing the right buttons. The waterbender had the potential to be cruel and ruthless. To be a killer. She just needed to give in. Then she'll live a life of misery, just like me.

          The weight of all her wrong doings. Of taking a life. That's what she was missing. I was almost there. Of achieving my goal. And once that happens. I'll be done here. For good.

.☽☼☾.

Okay so I’ve finally caught up on updating everything to tumblr. I’m still in the process of writing the next chapter so stay tuned!

Hang loose, amigos 🤙🏼

#fire lord zuko #zuko fanfic #zuko x oc #avatar fanfiction