#its about holding each other so tightly and physically for confirmation that they weren’t seeing things and that the other was Really There | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

chrstbll · 3 years

Text

miracles and lucky days| ben hargreeves

(gif not mine)

+tags: @lalisbitch @spaceclone-mom , @meowmeowrex23 @strangeyouthcrusade

plot: after coming back from the 60’s, instead of finding the sparrow academy, the group come face to face with a much more positive outcome of their actions.

The words of Klaus were diluted, inaudible and ringing loudly in your head. Your limbs could barely hold the weight of your body, and the nausea from jumping between timelines hitting your stomach didn’t quite put you at ease. All was blurry at first, not hearing nor seeing properly caused you to feel light-headed as well, but before your legs or your mind gave in, somebody strong arms held you up protectively.

- Are you good? – Diego’s gentle call for you brought you back to reality. He was always a little bit concerned about you. He didn’t show it in great actions, it was in the seemingly unimportant things he did for you. There wasn’t anything romantic involved between you two, instead of that it was a deep understanding of each another that made you appreciate the other significantly. You nodded to confirm that you were in fact all right, shrugging it off with a smile.

Klaus was right. After you successfully registered what he was saying, a wave of relief washed over your heart, mind, and soul. Your whole being. For once, all seven of you managed to successfully jump back to 2019 without any harm or mistake being done. It was quite unbelievable. A dreamlike scenario which proved itself to be nearly impossible to believe. Looking around the hall, everything seemed to be all right. It felt okay. The aura was intimately comforting, yet something was amiss. Different. Changed. It certainly was not a malicious ambiance that you discovered, but one new, something yet unexperienced thing. The others noticed it too, as all six of them were looking around suspiciously. Memories, feelings, and people rapidly invaded your mind, those you haven’t thought about a lot. Pogo? Grace? Are they okay now?

Luther suggested to enter the living room ahead of you, so that’s what you all mutually agreed to. Five was the one who went further on before you heroically and begged all of you to proceed with caution, because we don’t know what’s waiting for us there. The walk from the hall to the living room happened painfully slowly given that the feeling of uncertainty was sitting in one and all’s eyes and was at fault for your lack of speed. Upon realizing the academy was unnervingly noiseless, the anxiety birthed a huge lump in your throat, which you couldn’t swallow. Your heart was terrified from the possible negative outcome of this time jump. What if that moment of clarity and amenity was only a façade and was only felt because none of you faced reality in the short but drunk moment of arrival? Sometimes you thought about how nice it would be to just live without worry. To live in pure bliss, without a care in the world. Without a problem in the universe to solve. How astonishing it would be not to recall what loss, trauma, or sadness feels like. But then again, we would live in ignorance that way.

Turning towards the divans and sculptures in the living room, your attention automatically focused on the small moving figure, who was absentmindedly cleaning the shelves with dusting feathers. Recognition hit you like a truck, as the character of an ape appeared before you. Your breath hitched in your throat. Mercifully, it was a positive reaction, a sentiment you haven’t undergone in a long time.

- Pogo?! – Allison was the first one to call out their siblings’ friends’ name. Barely letting his name roll from her tongue, the sea of emotions instantly overthrew her, and tears stormed down her face. Their beloved guardian turned around in shock, he looked so puzzled, it was as he didn’t recognize the people in front of him. You feared that was the case. What if we screwed it up even more?

- Oh, children. I was waiting for you all to return – he’s spoken politely and gifted us with a kind smile, just like he always did. You almost forgot what a courteous and caring figure Pogo was. His scarce although deep voice reminded you of simpler times. A type of nostalgia which you subconsciously yearned for god knows how long. Everyone gathered around him in a matter of seconds, engulfing him in a suffocating hug. Pogo was still bewildered from the sudden act of affection, as you all were from seeing him alive and breathing, but in this instant of happiness, the questions why and how didn’t matter. What mattered was the present minute, what you currently knew as is.

And next, a voice broke the silence.

Who would dare to turn around first? Who wanted to confirm that the voice that was just heard from behind them, came from a legit source? On a serious note, was it even real? Your minds are only playing tricks on you. You were ecstatic for having Pogo back, but it would be too good to be true to turn around and see the possessor of the voice. We can’t have all the wonderful things. It never went that well for you. Your bodies turned stiff, and your feet were frozen on spot. But what made you fear to turn around? The horror of hearing something that’s not truly there or facing it bravely. Something…someone you haven’t faced in roughly two decades.

- What the hell took you guys so long? – the annoyance sounded so raw, hence genuine. You could hear and understand the words crystal clear; then why didn’t you believe your ears?

The group hug disassembled at a snail's pace and turned to face what they never expected to see ever again in their lifetime. You, on the other hand, had secretly wished for a moment like this. Your heart was aching for the chance, not caring about being rational nor delusional. It kept the faith in your soul steady.

- Please, tell me I’m not the only one who can see him – Klaus muttered.

- Ben – Diego confirmed in a hushed tone without letting out any more words as he didn’t need to. He was the bravest out of all of you to speak up.

So, there he stood in his monochrome outfit, with his black leather jacket hugging his form and a coy smile painted all over his face. The faint rosy cheeks, lively eyes and vivid emotions displayed told you everything. The Ben standing in front of you was very much real, and more importantly, alive, and well.

- All of you look like you’ve seen a ghost – he grinned from ear to ear, and his light-hearted joke legitimately freed your body from the tension which held you in your place so aggressively. Number Four didn’t hesitate one second longer, and slammed himself against his brother, who sweetly returned the embrace. Registering it, savouring it, then finally loving the physical contact, Klaus broke up in a hysterical laughter. The group succeeded to pull the strings in a way his death was luckily prevented. How the hell did we manage this? But he didn’t care. All that mattered was the present minute, what he currently knew as is.

- You’re telling me, man – his laugh slowly started to die down, but his joy only rose. Of course, a group hug was crucially needed and initiated effective immediately. Everyone surrounded him, and you held onto each other tightly, so he never slips away from your grasp again. You admitted it to yourself, that it felt heavenly, but more precisely, it felt so damn terrific. The others eventually backed away, but you stayed right in front of him.

- Hey, you – were all he needed to say for you to go flying into his arms – Where have you been? I missed you – his confession was a simple, warm, and loving anecdote, and it broke your heart in the best way possible.

You missed me?

Your loud sobbing, and ocean of tears was baffling and a mystery to him, and he looked at the others with a perplexed expression. They asked him to just let you be because they understood everything perfectly. Each tear was valid and every one of them had a reason. His arms were wrapped around your body, as he was shielding you from all the cruelty in this world. His embrace wasn’t tight, but fond and sensitive enough. You weren’t greedy at all; it was just all too marvellous. Hearing his stable beating heart as he held you close to his chest completely fulfilled you. A featherlight kiss was tenderly placed on your forehead by him, in an attempt to calm you down. It failed, as more droplets of salty water coated your apple-like cheeks. Even so, the kiss was given so compassionately, it must have come from heaven itself.

Maybe you were in Heaven. Maybe your life ended when you arrived in the hall. This isn’t real and I’m probably dead in Diego’s arms by now. But what if you accepted it as your reality now? You couldn’t believe it, even after feeling his touch and his kiss on your body. It might be because you thought you didn’t think your wish to see the person closest to your heart again would ever come true. After the horrific months you went through, it was certainly an impossibility to be gifted with something this enormous, significant, and joyous.

Maybe miracles and lucky days exist. Maybe they existed both on the same day in favour of you. I’ll accept this, I deserve this. You absolutely deserve to be happy and to drop the burden that’s been weighing on your soul for years. Nobody deserves to live their lives in inescapable guilt and grief. Having Ben back in all your lives meant the world to you. You were thinking about how you might have to fill him in on the details of the previous events, but that was a case for a later part of the day. For now, it was nice to bask in his love and warmth. You’ll care about every other issue later. This was the only feeling that mattered in that moment. Peace finally taking its rightful place back in your heart, which has been waiting for it for a long time now. He radiated pureness, an energy which was incomparable to anything else. Clutching his jacket was your anxiety making sure he doesn’t leave again. Maybe he was reading your thoughts, but at the same time he was realizing he’d never leave you even if it meant his life.

- I missed you too.

#ben hargreeves #umbrella academy #the umbrella academy #netflix tua #ben hargreeves x reader #ben hargreeves imagine #ben hargreeves fluff #ben hargreeves fanfiction #tua x reader #the umbrella academy imagine

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ohheyitsokay · 3 years

Text

slowly

Pairing: Jack Daniels (Agent Whiskey) x (f) ace!reader

Wordcount: 2.2k

Warnings: discussions of sex and related topics, maybe some angst? a lot more analogies than actual descriptions

Summary: a drive in theatre, a budding relationship, and a whole lot of mutual support

Notes: okay obviously this is a wildly personal topic - I fully understand that asexuality looks different for everyone. For full disclosure, in this story, the reader knows they are somewhere on the asexuality spectrum, but is not aromantic. They are also are on a path of self discovery and are open to learning about themselves. This IS NOT saying asexuals who are like this are growing "better" than those who are not interested. Asexuals who do know what they do and dont want are perfect and do not need to change or compromise as part of their personal growth.

There will be an optional part 2 where they have more conversations about intimacy and explore together what works for them, but again, this is not everyone's story, or the "right" way, it's just... one story.

That being said, I genuinely hope yall enjoy!

You stared at the bashful man in front of you openly, your hands stilling on the groceries you were halfway done unloading.

Even the slightest rustle of the cloth bags was painfully loud in the silence that stretched between you.

Jack had burst through your door, confident as always, but it was a thin layer over his anxious heart. With two long strides, he was pulling you into his arms, almost crushing you against his chest.

Arms winding around his middle, you held him just as tightly before you found your voice again.

“You’re back,” you said, simply amazed that he was a whole week early from the long mission. “When did you get back?”

You hadn’t realized he had picked you up until your feet were on solid ground again, and he was pulling away.

“Just a few hours ago, I had to make it back in time for opening night, right?” he grinned winningly.

You tried not to overthink, feeling a jolt of excitement that he remembered – tonight. The drive-in theatre in town was opening for the season and you had been more than excited. As one of your most consistent movie night friends, Jack had promised to take you, full of butterflies and subtext.

For as close as you’d gotten over the past few months, you weren’t sure what to make of his expression.

“If that’s okay? I should’ve double checked,” you hadn’t responded and it was apparently making him nervous.

“Yeah, Jack, that sounds great,” you reassured him, turning back to your groceries, equally nervous.

If you were being honest, you hadn’t expected him to remember because it had almost felt like an off-hand comment at the time, and you hadn’t wanted to get your hope up to much.

Something was welling in your stomach as you turned away from him fully, putting each item in its respective home in your kitchen. You liked him, of course you liked him. He was bold and kind and passionate, and more handsome than seemed reasonable for a single person. And… and when he was nearby, there was a feeling of safety, just out of reach, like water lapping at your feet at the beach.

It was more than tempting but, same as the ocean, there was also an uneasiness in the unknown. The same uneasiness was present in every relationship you’d ever had – because you had a secret.

Well, it was less of a secret and more… something you were figuring out that you hadn’t talked about much. Despite long late night talks and months of growing close and even slowly falling for each other, you hadn’t quite found the courage to talk to Jack about it yet. The more real the soft, sweet moments between you got, the more the unease filled your bones. You knew how he was with other women, and each time his hand lingered on your hip, your shoulder, your cheek, a quiet voice whispered that he deserved better.

Jack was staring at you, lost in your thoughts as you mechanically worked your way through the bags. His heart ached for you, and he wished more than anything that you trusted him with whatever you were holding back. But he was a determined man – he would do whatever he could to show you that no matter what, he wasn’t going anywhere.

After awhile, Jack coaxed you back to your normal self, telling you as much of his mission as he could and helping you cook dinner. Moving around your kitchen was wonderfully peaceful, a little bubble of intimacy. Food was great for neutralizing anxious thoughts.

The feeling continued into his truck as you excitedly packed blankets and he fought the urge to kiss your adorable face when you found the snacks he’d picked up. Even before he left, in anticipation for tonight, he cleaned the front seat thoroughly, and made sure his radio was in good condition.

The movie went well too, but as much as he wanted to pull you into his arms, press you into his side, be the warmth against the cool night air, there was a hesitation that held him at bay.

Every time he’d reach for you, cautious and gentle, your skin would twitch, almost jumping away before you’d smile at him and lean into it. You seemed happy, but part of your mind was holding you back. As friends, you two were relatively physically affectionate, so he made a mental note to tread light and watch for more cues. Jack never wanted to impose himself on anyone but with you, even less.

So he waited. He had no doubt you’d talk to him when you were ready, and heavens knows that he had plenty of things he had kept buried. It was still nice, hearing you laugh next to him - just him – and seeing the light reflecting off the movie dance across your skin. Talking with you was always easy, even more so without friends or family around and it made Jack ache with eagerness.

As he pulled up to your home, he gently took your hand.

“Darlin, it was plum delightful to take you out tonight,” he said, cursing himself internally for how nervous he sounded. You looked his, eyes catching the streetlight like magic and your gentle squeeze gave him courage.

“I really would like to take you out again, on a proper date,” he couldn’t look away from your eyes, trying to read them through the murkiness. “I really like you,” Jack added, quieter, “but you don’t have to respond right now.”

You nodded, your eyes closing tight as though you were at war with yourself.

You think you like me, but I’m not the type of girl you want to date.

“You don’t have to… tell me, if you’re not ready, but,” he offered after a long moment, his free hand flexing on the steering wheel as he forced himself to examine the bushes on the side of the parking lot. “But I’m listening.”

You felt both hot and cold at the same time. All evening you could feel it coming, knew it was going to happen, knew it had to. He deserved this conversation, and honestly, if there was anyone who made you feel like you did, too, it was Jack.

Inhale, exhale.

Inhale -

“Okay,” - exhale.

Remembering that neither of you had work the next day helped. Slowly you let go of your hand and unbuckled your seatbelt, shifting to get comfortable again, the actions thick with significance. He returned it, unbuckling too, and killing the engine.

Jack was so respectful you could cry, his obvious anxiety under control enough not to jump to conclusions – to wait for you.

“I like you, too, Jack, but I don’t think we can ever date,” you forced the words out and his heart nearly shattered, confusion barely holding it together.

Eyebrows so drawn in they almost looked like a solid line, he waited, unable to stop a small shake of his head.

Why not? His entire being screamed. With each second that passed, more and more determination seeped into the cracks of his heart, sticking it together. If you liked him as he liked you, it seemed impossible there was anything between you that couldn’t be overcome.

You saw the question in his eyes and the explanation tumbled out.

“It’s just, I know you – I know the girls you go after and the type of relationships most men want. And,” you were sucking in air, the vulnerability raking through your lungs. “And I don’t know if I can ever give you that.”

He started to protest before his hand covered his mouth, irritated movements over his mustache, his jaw working. What he wanted was you. But he needed to let you keep talking. If he interrupted you now, he might never understand what you meant.

You watched his movements, desperation to give him the explanation he deserved growing in you.

“I’ve had people break up with me because I wont sleep with them,” you shoved the words into the space, the most honest you’d maybe ever been.

Whatever he had been expecting, it wasn’t that. Your voice was trembling and so quiet only your moving lips confirmed the words as you continued.

“For me, it’s not something I need, or am particularly comfortable with. You,” you swallowed hard, unable to look at the man beside you. “You deserve someone you can be with, however you want.”

You took another deep breath, feeling light and surprisingly at peace with your honesty. Even the impending rejection felt less scary, now that you had said it all out loud. The trembles settled as you concluded, “I’m still figuring myself out and I just cant guarantee I’ll ever give you what you deserve.”

Of all the conversations with all the others before this, this moment felt the most freeing. It was wild to have such an intimate conversation before you even kissed, but… the foundation of trust that Jack had given you had not been lost on you. You found yourself smiling, looking at him, finally.

His expression had loosened, processing and connecting the dots, his deep eyes unfocused before they slid closed.

Now it was your turn to wait, to be patient, and listen.

Part of him wanted to yell that he wasn’t like the others, that he didn’t care and even that he would wait and work until you were ready. But that wasn’t right, and he knew it.

Inside him, deep, deep down, there was a small light. A candle of flame underneath a glacier: a touch of hope slowly warming its way through layers and layers and centuries of expectations, fear, confusion, and chaos. It was going strong, it just need more time.

“Darlin,” he looked at you, finally, meeting your eyes and feeling for the first time that they were a clear window into your soul. “You are… everything, to me. So… so let’s just take some time to process this. Would that be okay, sweetheart?”

That was the first time anyone had ever responded that way. It was the scariest thing, but it was perfect. You were overwhelmed with the rawness and a glance at the radio told you it was 2 am. Not a time to be making life altering decisions, anyway. Nodding, you pressed a chaste kiss to his cheek. The movement was intimate and confident – something that shouldn’t have been possible, but it was.

Jack’s large hand grasped at your neck and jaw, pulling you into him, pressing his forehead on yours. The hairs of his mustache just ticked your lip, but he made no move, respecting one final boundary for the night.

With a squeeze, he let you go, watching with longing eyes as you hopped out of his truck and ran to your front door. The smile you gave him before you slipped inside was the seal, engraving tonight into his memories forever.

And he drove home, his thoughts louder than the wind and the crickets and his pounding heart.

Jack invited you over a few days later, a Sunday afternoon. It would be the first time you’d talked, and you were surprisingly calm. For some reason, you felt like you’d be closer to him no matter what happened.

He heard your car on the long gravel driveway and greeted you with an all-encompassing hug. You held each other, like lifelines, for long moments before he pulled you inside.

“My mama sent cookies,” he said, motioning for you to sit at the tall table he had as he set down the plate. You couldn’t help but smile, knowing their Sunday lunches and her beloved baking well. He remained standing across from you, aware of the awkwardness, but eager to get his words right.

“This is all new to me,” he said, wishing suddenly that he’d made tea so his throat wouldn’t feel so dry. “If you really don’t wanna be with me, that’s your choice,” he said, knowing it was right and hating the option, “but I really – you’re just so – I can’t let you go,” his thoughts were jumbling together on his tongue.

It was grounding, when your hands found his, reaching across the table as you sat forward on your stool.

“What if we just took it slow?” you said, and his heart stopped.

“Please,” he managed, and your own chest felt like it would burst. “Would it be alright, darlin?” Jack’s hands held yours, his expression eager.

“Could – could we figure out what works for us? Figure this all out together?” You were close to crying, you wanted that so bad.

“I can’t promise I’ll change or… or what direction I’ll grow,” you said, needing to say it again, needing to be sure.

“I can’t, either, darlin,” he said, and you realized he was right and you would support each other, no matter what.

“But all I need is you. Whatever and however much you’ll give me. That’s more than enough.”

He didn’t say for now.

And you believed him.

Since he was still standing, it made it easy for you to tug him around the table, and you leaned into his chest. It felt safe, safer than you had ever thought was possible for you.

“Okay,” you told the flannel he was wearing, “Let’s figure it out together.” And even though you couldn’t see him, you knew he was smiling, too.

Taglist:

@fangirl-316 @0celestialbitch0 @scribbledghost

#agent whiskey x reader #agent whiskey x you #jack daniels x you #jack daniels x reader #ace!reader #ace reader #maybe i don't know people

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pastelsandpining · 3 years

Note

Song: "The Panic In Me" by Elton John

Pairing: post-calamity zelink

Congrats on 200!! You deserve more you lovely goddess!!

here you go! a serving of angsty fluff

The Panic in Me

words: 2349

warnings: death mention, panic attacks, nightmares, survivor's guilt if you squint

Masterlist | Song Fics

------

In a perfect world, they could leave their past behind them. They could move on with their lives, never once interrupted by the ghosts of an era that played out so long ago, neither of them should be alive to remember it. But this was not a perfect world, and too often, memories of the past taunted and pulled them so taught, it was hard to believe they hadn’t broken yet. Link did not know if it was easier to have a full memory, or if he was the lucky one out of the pair. Most of the time, he just felt lost. Where something should be, there was a blurry and vague image that made no sense to him. Gaping holes in the memory of his past life lead to many sleepless nights, and this was just another one of them.

In that life that was lost to the hands of time, he’d been a knight in service of the princess. A hero, destined to bring about the Calamity. That’s the kind way to put it, he thought. Harbinger of doom was a more fitting term, even a century later when it was done and over. It was a cruel trick that, by the time he was able to sink the sacred blade into the grotesque body of the beast, he could not remember much about those he was fighting for.

There was a collection of memories, sure. A few flickers of a face here, a voice there, a group of skilled warriors that’d come together for the sake of Hyrule--and what good did skill do them in the end? Remembering meant nothing when they weren’t around to remind him of who they were. They felt too far away for him to have any sort of connection to them, and it hurt. He felt… traitorous.

“Link?”

The hero lifted his head, tearing his gaze from the water flowing quietly beneath the bridge, and turned to look at the fallen princess he’d rescued a handful of weeks ago. She was creeping towards him from the house, hugging her arms. It was too late in the night, or early in the morning, for her to be awake. He pulled his legs from over the water and stood up to meet her, the wood cold beneath his bare feet. It reminded him that the weather was growing colder, and she must be freezing. He removed the cloak from around his shoulders and draped it around hers instead, but she caught his hands before he could withdraw.

“Are you alright?” she asked. Three simple words and the answer was anything but. He didn’t think there was a set of words he could string together that would make sense of his thoughts.

“Couldn’t sleep,” he answered instead, giving her hands a gentle squeeze in assurance that he was fine. In moments like these, he wondered if time was a blessing. A century ago, he’d have never dared to touch her in such a casual, insignificant way.

“How long have you been out here?” she asked. It was unnatural, surely enough to be a crime, how her eyes could glow even in the darkest hours of night--even when she was tired beyond belief. He thought briefly of saying not long, but he didn’t want to lie to her.

“I don’t know,” he decided instead. It was an alarmingly honest answer. He couldn’t keep track of time when he was in his head, thinking too much about things he could do nothing about.

“Do you want to come back inside?” she offered--an implication that they shared the house on the cliffside. He supposed, in a way, they did.

“It’s cold,” he answered with a nod towards the building. She’d come out barefoot as well, and he didn’t want her getting sick when she was just starting to regain her health. “Come on.”

The house was not much warmer than the air outside, but at least there was no breeze to sink the chill further into them. Zelda discarded the cloak and Link shuddered as he fetched a spare blanket from storage. He offered it to her, then wasn't entirely sure how it came to be wrapped around both of them.

“Link,” she tried again, fishing for his hand as she started towards the stairs. “Are you sure you’re alright?”

He thought about nodding, assuring her he was fine and telling her to go back to sleep, but she was too smart for that. Maybe it was a gift she had, to know when he wasn’t okay, or maybe she just knew him that well even decades later.

“I was thinking,” he admitted at last, taking a seat on the bed when she pulled him down beside her.

“Do you want to talk about it?” she asked, holding his hand between both of hers, stroking it gently with her thumb. Link never realized how fleeting physical touch was, or how badly he craved it, until he wrapped her in a hug the very day she returned. Maybe it was selfish, how he didn’t want to let her go. Some small part of him still thought that if he did, she would dissolve right in front of him the same way everyone else from his past had.

“I died,” he said simply. “Didn’t I?”

It struck a chord with her too, because she tensed and averted her gaze. He was sure it wasn’t a pleasant memory for her. He’d gotten the best of it, after all--the only thing he could see or feel was her.

“Yes,” she replied quietly. It was no louder than a whisper, but it was deafening. There was no new knowledge to be learned, but hearing the confirmation from other people was so much worse than just knowing it himself.

It was panic that filled him, thinking back on it. Panic that it wasn’t actually over at all, and that he’d find himself waking up alone with no one to touch all over again. He couldn’t speak the words aloud, so he simply sat there, letting Zelda lay him in her lap. Her hands in his hair, her quiet humming, carried him through the staggered breathing and flashes of a burning world. By the time he came around again, dawn was breaking over the horizon and he didn’t have the energy to move. It was a miracle Zelda’s fingers hadn’t put him to sleep already.

“You’re here,” she whispered, far closer to his ear than he remembered her being. It made him shiver. “We’re here. I won’t let you be alone.”

No, she wouldn’t, because she was too good for that. She was too good to have suffered the way she did. Where he was responsible for bloodshed, she was devoted and loyal. Link still couldn’t understand why the Goddess and her powers ignored her for so long.

“Zelda,” he said in return, lifting his gaze to her at last. It was all that could be said.

He didn’t remember being moved to the pillows, but her head was next to his now and he was certain their legs were tangled together under the sheets. He was holding onto her nightshirt far too tightly, so he uncurled his fingers to take her hands instead.

“Link,” she replied, giving his hands a squeeze, and the ridiculousness of the idea that he couldn’t even form a thank you caused him to laugh. It started weak and hardly more than a chuckle, but Zelda giggled softly beside him, and it grew until he was gasping for breath.

He wasn’t entirely sure what was so funny. Maybe nothing was, and his laughter was simply a result of the unbridled joy she brought him. He would never truly know the answer to that question.

~~~

Zelda did not go without her fair share of torment. Nightmares were common, but her waking up with a blood curdling screaming in the middle of the day was not. She didn’t remember falling asleep. Her hands grasped at something, anything, but all she found was the now crumpled pages of her journal and the wooden desk that bestowed upon her hands a new splinter. She could feel her heart slamming against the inside of her ribs, trying to break free from the prison its sole job was to keep alive. She just barely registered the words coming from her mouth: “no, no, no.”

The door flew open. Footsteps pounded up the wooden stairs and she flinched when he entered her periferal.

“Zelda?” he asked as he knelt by her side. She slowly looked his way, her entire body trembling, and she wanted to cry.

“Link,” she whispered back, broken and watery. “Gods, I-”

“What happened?” he demanded, taking one of her hands. She winced. It was the hand with the splinter. He flipped it to her palm. She didn’t know how he could be so precise and smooth, but the intrusive piece of wood was gone before she could think of digging it out herself.

“I had a dream,” she explained, “the night before… before the Calamity. It made no sense but it felt… foreboding, like a promise—and I think I just had another.”

“Okay,” Link answered with a nod. She watched him shift, kneel in a more comfortable position--a sign he wasn’t going anywhere until she finished speaking. Zelda gripped his hands tighter. She recalled the whispered cries for help, the mangled corpse with glowing, familiar eyes, the feeling of falling down, down, down with him being the last thing she saw. She was shaking again, on the verge of tears, because she didn’t want to lose him again. They had only just started to learn how to love each other in a way that wasn’t dependent on who they were a century ago. She didn’t think she could do it again.

“It doesn’t feel like just a dream, does it?” he asked. Always so considerate, always so understanding.

“There’s been records of prophetic dreams,” she admitted quietly. She wished that if she didn’t speak it loud enough, then it wouldn’t be real.

“Do you think it’s prophetic?”

“I don’t know.”

She didn’t want it to be. The idea that this might not be over after all was terrifying. But Link gave her hands a gentle squeeze and pulled her forwards until she was on his lap, curled up into his arms where nothing could get to her. He was there, just as he always was. He was there when she visited the supposed grave of her father, and he was there when she took her first pilgrimage to Gerudo Town without the company of Urbosa, and he was there when the expectations of the past on her shoulders felt too heavy for her to keep afoot. What had she done to deserve his good graces?

“It’s okay,” he assured, even though she didn’t feel like it. His fingers came up to thread through her hair and she held onto him a little tighter. There were still the remnants of what it felt like to be falling, and the disgust and trepidation that came after seeing the dried out remains of someone who looked too familiar to be of any comfort.

“What if it’s real?” she asked in a whisper, trying to search his blue eyes for any indication that he was lying.

“There’s no way to know that for sure, but if it is, then I won’t let you face it alone.”

He looked so sincere. There wasn’t the slightest waver behind his eyes, or any uncertainty in his voice. He was so steady, so kind, and she almost believed him. She wanted more than anything to believe him. But she didn’t like the implications of her drop into the dark chasm, or the look on his face when she fell.

“I don’t want to do it again,” she said and lowered her head. “I’m tired. I’m so tired. Haven’t we done enough?”

He didn’t answer. He probably didn’t have anything to say, because the same questions must’ve been running through his mind. He had perished to the hands of the Calamity, and now at the slightest whisper of a return, what were they supposed to do?

“Zelda,” he said softly. She always liked how her name sounded in his voice, with no titles or such attached to it. “Look at me.”

She did. He took her chin in his hand, and she could melt at how gently he touched her. In this new age, outside of the eyes of Hyrule, she’d only seen him this serious on a few occasions.

“Yes?” she managed.

“I won’t let anything happen to you if I can help it.”

But he couldn’t always help it, and expecting it of him wasn’t fair. He was still learning how to deal with that knowledge--accepting that he couldn’t always stop what was to come. Even so, it made her feel better. It filled her with warmth to know he was still so determined to stay by her side.

Zelda managed a small smile, then assured them further with a feathersoft kiss. It wasn’t the first they’d shared, and it wouldn’t be the last, but it was a comfort she indulged in whenever she could. There was no reason to be ashamed of it or want to hide it anymore. All those who might’ve cared were dead, and that, while by no means preferable, was perhaps the best part to come out of a fallen kingdom.

“You calm the panic in me too well,” she commented with a weak chuckle.

“I’m just returning the favor,” he replied with a shrug.

It took a few minutes more for them to untangle themselves and stand from the hardwood floor, but by the time they did, the nightmare that interrupted her nap was nothing more than an uneasy feeling in the back of her mind. She trusted in Link, in the bond that they’d not only repaired but regrew and strengthened from almost nothing, and if something wanted to tear them apart again, well, it would have to go through her.

#zelink #botw zelink #post calamity #post calamity zelink #hurt/comfort #let them have peace #nintendo: no #did some nifty foreshadowing

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bookwyrminspiration · 3 years

Text

Shattered Upside Down

A kotlc wings au: masterpost here

summary: Everything seems like it’s going to be okay, but they’re definitely not okay.

Chapter 2: The Shift

Word Count: 7.8k

warnings: Mentions of pulling/scratching at skin in response to unwanted physical sensations. Mental spiraling/being overwhelmed. A few medical scenes, but nothing very different than what’s in the books. And as always, swearing.

taglist: listed at the end beneath the cut, but let me know if you want to be added or removed!

Definitely curious to see what you all think, ngl...

ao3 link here

or read beneath the cut

Every single cell in their body was alive--and dying. Each one was burning, shredding itself, unmaking itself and throwing the pieces back together. Their heartbeats were a fraction too quick, each pulse of life a fraction too strong. Each inhale coated their throat in acid and singed its way through their lungs. There was no light. There was no sound. But it hurt hurt hurt so loud, so bright.

The very essence of their mind had been bruised and battered and it was fighting with everything it had but there was nothing to fight. Except itself.

Consciousness was a whirlwind of ups and downs and upside-downs and each time they tried to reach it they were thrown back. Back where? They weren’t anywhere. They were their cells, each amalgamation of their parts could be seen in the way their mind had melted into their inner being.

They could not be separated.

Not yet.

Wait.

The pain was palpable now. It was not the soothing, unending, comforting, searing pain as they watched their mind tear itself apart.

This was real.

This was pinpricks and needles and smoke and ash and scratches and bruises and blood.

Wait--

Sophie couldn’t breathe over the sound of the footsteps passing by in the halls. Eyes open, she couldn’t see, everything hazy blotches of light and dark and color. Then it wasn’t.

Strange. She must’ve blinked it away, not that she remembered blinking. Her consciousness was cotton and her brain was fuzz, the edges of her vision still uncharacteristically undefined, but that wasn’t on the forefront of her mind.

Nothing was.

Noise registered vaguely in her mind, but she couldn’t discern the sounds from each other, voices and whispers overlapping each other like shuffling cards. Static coated everything, the ringing in her ears, the ceiling lights, the sharp flashes of color darting around her field of vision.

A hand passed in front of her face and her eyes trailed after it, but she couldn’t keep up, lagging a second behind.

Breathe.

She needed to breathe. In and out. Again. Again. She forced her lungs to find their rhythm, the pain grounding her and sharpening her mind. Her blood was magma rushing beneath her skin, but each forced exhale made it slightly more bearable.

She was awake.

The noises--voices, she knew now--had fizzled out, the anxiety palpable in the air, the room waiting with bated breath. The hand passed in front of her again, and this time her eyes followed. “She seems to be doing better,” someone murmured, and it took her a long second to realize that she was the person being discussed.

Her lips parted slightly as she turned her head, eyes sliding to the figure seated next to her, eyelids unnaturally heavy. Spots of color danced in her vision--the lights fixed to the ceiling had temporarily blinded her--and the room shuttered between blurred and clear for a few seconds before she blinked it away.

“How bad,” she rasped, and the figure--Elwin--jerked, eyes snapping to meet hers. Her voice had been barely audible, but it was far too loud in this taut silence.

Someone let loose a sigh, so thick and loaded and fraught with relief she nearly winced, and then fingers laced with hers--she hadn’t even been consciously aware she had hands--squeezing tight.

Edaline’s fingers flitted against the skin of her cheek, brushing stray hairs out of her face before pressing her palm to her cheek. Sophie leaned into the touch for a moment before looking back towards Elwin. He still hadn’t answered.

He cleared his throat as he readjusted his glasses, hair frazzled as though he’d run his fingers through it. “I must say, you all are definitely fighters.” His smile cracked at that, but he quickly regained composure and continued. “I’m not sure exactly what you were exposed to, but it did some nasty damage--which I can reverse,” he quickly added, not that she’d been worried. Elwin had performed miracles before, this time didn’t have any reason to be different.

Something about what he’d said caught her attention though. She mulled it over for a brief moment before it hit her.

You all.

Her friends.

Fuck.

Hissing through her teeth, she propped herself up on both elbows, Edaline adjusting the bedsheets around her. She still hadn’t said a word.

From her new position, she could see the entire room, the Healing Bubble--Keefe’s affectionate nickname for the space had stuck. Dwarves had a tendency to build rooms as though they were bubbles, pockets of air trapped beneath the dirt, never to rise. The Healing Bubble was rounded, cots spread around the room, other adjoined rooms serving as both storage and alchemy labs--a close recreation of the Healing Center back at Foxfire. Close. But not quite.

She blinked hard. This was not what she needed to be focusing on at the moment.

Because all around the room, her friends lay unconscious in the cots. Each of their faces pallid and expressionless, none of them moving, not even restless twitching.

Alden and Della were seated between Fitz and Biana, Juline and Kesler beside Dex, bodyguards stationed throughout the room near their charges, each of them looking at her. The relief was palpable on their faces; so then she looked alright she supposed, but she certainly didn’t feel it.

The movement--sitting up--had agitated the sludge in her veins, burning as it coursed through her. Something--probably pain--must’ve shown on her face, colored orbs beginning to flash, a frown pulling at Elwin’s features; she ignored the lights.

This time she cleared her throat before speaking. “What happened?” Still rougher than she would’ve liked, but it would do.

“You nearly got yourselves fucking killed, that’s what,” Ro answered. Sophie waited for further explanation, but none came.

Slightly irritated, she tried again. “I passed out for a while and I’d like to know what happened between the time I fainted until now. Perhaps someone could start with why we’re all back underground in the Healing Bubble--my memory seems to be missing a few spots.”

Silence.

“You kids certainly have a way with words.” Sophie’s head snapped towards the doorway, watching as Mr. Forkle walked up to her, stopping a ways away from her cot. Grady was behind him.

“Hey, kiddo,” he whispered, rushing forward and wrapping his arms tightly around her, holding her as though afraid he might break her. She must’ve looked rough, then. The thought dispelled her irritation for a moment, and all she could do was grip him tightly, only letting go when she heard Mr. Forkle shifting his weight as he waited.

Turning her attention towards him, she tried not to fiddle with her bedsheets.

“What happened,” she asked again, Mr. Forkle opening his mouth to answer when another, darker voice cut him off.

“The fuck is going on.” Tam had propped himself up on his elbows, face pallid as he swayed slightly. Sophie’s shoulder’s dropped a fraction, the pressure of being the only one awake fading now that Tam was conscious with her. Which was...strange. She didn’t want to think about that right now.

Elwin was hovering over him, flashing lights around him but saying nothing, knowing they were both more interested in whatever the hell Forkle was about to say.

“Mr. Tam,” he began, seeming unperturbed by the interruption. “As I was about to explain to Ms. Foster, I think it would be best if we waited for this discussion until all of you are...capable of having it.”

“The fuck does that mean,” Tam deadpanned, words slightly slurred. Honestly, she would’ve laughed had she not been so irritated at the moment.

“It means,” she grumbled, crossing her arms, “that he’s not going to tell us because we’re the only ones awake right now.” She glanced at him for confirmation, and he nodded just once, but it was enough. A haze of anger started to cloud her mind, but she wound it into the knot in her chest with a sigh, wincing.

“Well, that’s bullshit.”

She agreed and said as much, but Mr. Forkle seemed to have been expecting this response, still entirely composed, although if she didn’t know better she could’ve sworn there was a flicker of hesitation in his expression.

There were so many people in this one room, the sounds of their breathing filling the moment of silence in a way that made her ears itch, raking claws down the column of her spine until she could no longer contain the shiver that coursed through her. Edaline squeezed her arm once, rearranging the blankets as Sophie shook off the daze.

“Are you really going to make us wait? Seriously?” Disdain dripped from her voice, disappointment pooling around her fingers as her mouth tightened, glaring at him.

“If you don’t tell them, I will,” Ro announced, examining her nails and pointedly not looking at him.

He sighed, rubbing thoughtfully at his chin for a moment before glancing around, reading the room. “While I would prefer you didn’t, I don’t think it will be necessary. It appears we won’t be waiting for the rest of you kids very long.” He gestured towards where Biana was laying, hands held in front of her as she vanished spastically in and out of view, blinking ever so slowly, head bobbing slightly as her fingers fluttered rhythmically in the air.

Sophie’s heart beat erratically for a moment, another stitch of reassurance mending her frazzled consciousness together. Tam had woken, so had Biana. Everyone would be okay. Everyone would wake up and be perfectly fine--if a little bruised--and they could regroup. This was just a minor setback.

She’d been hurt worse and come back from it, this wouldn’t be any exception. This wasn’t even that bad--just some aches and pains. This was minor.

She reminded herself of this over and over, and it became easier when a muffled groan came from Fitz’s bed as he propped himself up, as the temperature rose a degree with Marella, as the sweat danced up their backs as Linh rose, as the lights flickered for a moment with Wylie, as Dex mumbled spastically beneath his breath--completely indecipherable, but that wasn’t the point--as solid transparency coated Maruca’s fingers, and as that familiar green wave rolled through the room, Keefe the last of them to wake.

It took no more than a half-hour--excruciatingly long for Sophie and Tam, but just long enough for the others to get their bearings and for Elwin to check them over, giving them the clear.

“It’s actually...strange...how well you’re doing.” He frowned, finishing with Keefe as he snapped the final ball of light away. “All of you.” He added, seeing the immediate concern for Keefe. That...wasn’t better.

“What do you mean?” Sophie asked, examining her hands as if she could somehow see through to the cells the way Elwin did. Was there a problem? How could there be, he said they were doing well, hadn’t he?

He waved his hands about for a moment, as if trying to physically take his words back from the air. “Not that it’s a bad thing. In fact, I’m rather glad that you’re all doing so well. Your cells look...slightly traumatized, but otherwise bright. I guess I just...expected more damage considering--” he cut off, glancing at Mr. Forkle before giving them an apologetic smile. “Sorry. I don’t think I’m supposed to say.”

Keefe groaned, flopping back in his cot. “Not you too! It’s bad enough with just the Forklenator keeping us in the dark, but now you join him? Not cool.” While his phrasing left something to be desired...Sophie had to agree. She’d waited long enough to know about something she was involved in, shouldn't she have been the first to know? Shouldn’t the adults have been asking her what happened?

He shrugged, then Mr. Forkle cleared his throat, drawing their attention. “You kids have certainly waited long enough, but I insist we all reconvene down in our common space.” He raised his hands to placate them before they could protest. “You’ve all been laying in the same clothes in the same cots for a few days; I think you may want to attend to some personal care before we continue.” Sophie closed her mouth, realizing just how soaked her shirt was, how stagnant her tongue tasted.

As much as she’d love to jump right back into being productive...she’d also love a proper shower. She could see her friends thinking the same. And Elwin seemed to think they were good to go.

“One hour,” Mr. Forkle continued. “Nothing will change drastically in a single hour. Especially not after that stunt you kids pulled.” He smiled slightly, teasing them now that he knew they wouldn’t fight back.

Holy fuck she wanted a shower.

The pouring water was scalding enough that Sophie’s skin had begun to turn red, steam curling in the air and fogging the mirrors visible on the other side of the room. The smooth black rock beneath her feet seemed alive with the flickers of light from the dancing sconces adorning the ragged walls, reflected specks of color in the sheen.

It fell in a near-silent waterfall from the flat spout a foot or two above her head. It reminded her of those videos she’d seen as a child--laminar flow. The water falling so smoothly, so consistently it appeared almost solid. This was one of the moments where the dwarves' fondness for bubble-like shapes came in handy, she realized as she watched the water flow down the gentle curve of the floor towards the center of the space, guided by the room's natural curve.

The Bath Bubble--another one of Keefe’s names that had stuck--was possibly her favorite place to be nowadays. The room itself was spherical--hence the name--completely hollow except for the ragged column rising from the center of the room. The dwarves had worked alongside hydrokinetics to turn it into a functional pipeline, water flowing through the center and diverting out into the dozen waterfall-like streams her and her friends were standing beneath. And indeed it felt as though she could feel Linh’s soft charisma in the gentle flow.

Sophie tilted her head back, letting the heat pour soundlessly over her head, bubbles streaming down her back. There was a faint pitter-patter as she moved, the water droplets that diverted off her body made a faint splash. She could hear the same pattern of droplets in the stalls next to hers--a friend on either side in a stall of their own, although the dark glass panes between them kept her from seeing who, exactly, she was beside. It was a way of giving them privacy, she supposed.

A dozen stalls of the same size, same structure, with the same toiletries--although Dex always seemed to have a different soap of some kind--all spread around that center column.

It had seemed...strange at first, to say the least. She’d gotten so used to the luxury of her own amenities that she’d forgotten what it was like to share. Now they shared almost everything and had become closer than ever because of it.

The common space, bedrooms...and shower.

It wasn’t quite the same as back home, but she’d come to love it. The casual reassurance that the people she cared most about were just moments away; they were there, she could hear them.

Her fingers had begun to prune, she realized as she rubbed them together. A vague memory flickered in the back of her mind as she eyed the wrinkles, a time she’d heard that pruned fingers were just your body’s way of adapting its grip to work underwater. Curious, she stepped slightly out of the torrent and pressed her fingertips against the wet glass to her side.

Her fingers clung to the surface, a surprising strength in the grip. She could feel her eyebrows raise and then scrunch once more and her mind began whirring.

How ironic, she thought, that it all depends on the circumstances--using it the right way. She shook herself out of it, reaching for her bar of soap.

Who knew the Mysterious Miss F could get even more cryptic, Keefe teased, and she realized with chagrin that she’d accidentally spoken into the mindbubble.

Oh. Shit.

Faint laughter echoed throughout the room, not quite at her, but definitely because of her. It seemed all the blood in her body decided that it wanted to be in her face, and she turned the temperature of the water down to help cool her off. It had minimal success.

I don’t know about you guys, but whatever shit we were exposed to in that place doesn’t feel like it wants to come off. Biana’s voice rang out next, thankfully giving Sophie something to focus on that wasn’t her own mistakes. But she frowned as she realized Biana was right.

She’d been so focused on the feeling of the water, her pruning fingers, that she hadn’t bothered to pay attention to the rest of her body.

It was as though a thin film coated her body, itchy in the way your skin was after a soap bubble popped on your arm.

A film over every inch of her skin, permeating her pores and clawing its way through her cells--well, she supposed she was being a bit dramatic. But it was hard not to worry.

Elwin said we’re good, she reminded everyone, and she could almost hear them repeating it to themselves, small echoes laced with slivers of doubt and terror.

Grabbing the soap off the rack--honeydew this month--she tried to lather the film off, using her hands, then a washcloth, and finally trying to scrape off the top layer of skin with her fingernails.

When her arms were laced with angry red nail marks, she finally had to admit that it wasn’t going to come off anytime soon. Well, she transmitted, a bit perplexed. This is probably a temporary thing. Like ink. If you get it on your fingers, it lingers for a while and takes multiple washes to get out.

Everyone seemed all too eager to agree, chalking it up to something that just needed time. Sure, it was slightly unnerving, but if they just waited it out, the problem would disappear entirely.

It was foolish, she knew, but she couldn’t handle the idea that anything was seriously wrong.

“Did you fuck with the soaps again?” Ro asked, wrinkling her nose slightly. They were all gathered in the common area--or bubble, if you were Keefe--ready to get back to their...forceful inquiries. It took her a moment, but she realized the question was directed as Dex--who was equally as confused.

“The soap? Did I--uh, no. Why?” He stammered, brow furrowing. Honestly, it was kind of hilarious how confused he looked, but he shook himself out of it and repeated, “Why?”

“Your scents are off.”

There was a moment of silence--I mean, there was no proper way to react to being told you smell strange. Biana ran her fingers through her hair, bringing it close to her face and inhaling slightly. She frowned, seemingly also confused--at this point, everyone was confused about everything, which was getting to be rather annoying.

“Damn, we really can’t catch a break,” Keefe cut in, once again, and he glanced at her for a moment too long to be casual before cracking that crooked grin. “If you wanted to mess with us, couldn’t you have come up with something a bit more...I don’t know--interesting?” His tone was light, but there was an unmistakable tension in his shoulders, a hollowness in his eyes as his feet swung back and forth from his perch on a high stool.

“She’s right,” Sandor said, stepping forward with a frown. He came up right behind Sophie, sniffing like a rabbit before exhaling with force. “All of you, you smell different. And it’s not something your noses would be able to detect.” He directed the last part at Biana, whose hair was still pressed to her nose. She dropped it with a frown, absentmindedly scratching her nails over the skin of her arms--marred with red lines just like Sophie’s.

“It’s nothing bad,” Grizel quickly added, seemingly melting out of the walls. “You just smell...off. But you shouldn’t worry about that.” Her smile was almost too easy, too reassuring, but Sophie really didn’t want anything else to think about, so she found herself smiling back.

“Elwin said we were good,” Keefe said, also scratching at his skin; angry red marks covered his neck and disappeared beneath his shirt--she hadn’t been the only one to try and scrape off that film. Even now she noticed she was scratching at the exposed skin on her wrist and forearm, but she shook her hands out and forced herself to focus.

“Will someone finally tell us what happened?” she asked, calm and collected. Her eyes met Mr. Forkle’s, who’d been standing at the edge--could spheres even have edges?--of the room, watching them.

She raised her eyebrows, gesturing for him--anyone--to start talking.

He straightened, looking right back for a moment before turning to address them all. “Well, as you kids have probably figured out, the mission didn’t go according to plan--”

“No shit,” Tam mumbled, and a chorus of amused exhales sounded throughout the room.

Mr. Forkle took a breath, then continued. “You did succeed in setting off a good portion of the planted explosives. However, something went wrong and you didn’t get out in time. Luckily, Dex’s failsafe worked, so no one died or was seriously injured--because of the explosives at least.”

“There was a failsafe?” Mr. Forkle sighed as he was once again interrupted--but this time by Marella. She, too, was covered in self-inflicted scratches, and as her fingers dropped from her shoulder they left a particularly nasty trail of lines as she turned to look at Dex, who seemed slightly embarrassed.

“It was just supposed to be a backup, so I didn’t mention it,” he said, wringing his hands--covered in scratch marks--as he tried not to meet their eyes. “The trigger for the explosives was connected to my personal device, so I added another feature. If we were still within a dangerous range, then the ones within a set radius wouldn’t go off with the others. It didn’t disable all of them, only the ones that put us at risk.” He raised his hands placatingly as if worried they’d be upset with him because they hadn’t exploded.

“That would’ve been nice to know beforehand.”

“Sorry.”

Mr. Forkle cleared his throat before anyone else could speak. “Are you done? Yes? Alright. When you didn’t return by the planned time, we began the emergency retrieval.” Oh, right. They’d come up with a backup plan to get out before they’d even left. Amidst all the chaos, she’d completely forgotten about everything that wasn’t immediately in front of her. Her face heated slightly, how could she have forgotten?

“Using the temporary crystals, your bodyguards leapt in--with Grady there for the actual leap--found you, and leapt back. Of course, the process of leaping underground took a significant toll on them, and they also underwent treatment when they arrived back.” Sophie nodded along as he spoke, impatient. She’d already known all this; she’d even been the one to suggest using the unmapped stars as a backup plan.

Mr. Forkle looked towards the bodyguards, and Sandor started filling in the rest of the details. “We found you all unconscious in one of the vat-filled rooms, but the place was a mess. It seemed one of the shelving units had gotten knocked over, and multiple different vials had broken and mixed together--you all in the center of it.

“We didn’t have time to do anything but get you out of there, the place was still unstable after the blast. So we took you to Elwin immediately, where he treated you for several days until you awoke this morning.”

“Right, we could’ve guessed as much,” Marella cut in, impatience clear on her face. “What happened to the building?” she demanded. “We were knocked out right as the explosives were triggered, so we don’t know what happened and no one’s fucking told us.”

The silence in the room was palpable, and all the adults glanced between each other. Sophie huffed impatiently, her temper shortening by the second--and the itchiness wasn’t helping. What the fuck. How hard was it to give a clear report on what their team themselves had fucking done? Unbelievable.

“Why aren’t you telling us,” Sophie demanded, more statement than question.

“We understand that a lot of hope was riding on this mission--” Tiergan began from the corner, and her head whipped to face him--she hadn’t even noticed he was there, but she cut him off.

“Bullshit. This is all bullshit. Cut it out.” She was being more cross than she needed to, and she knew it, but she couldn’t think clearly through the itching. Her fingers drifted to her neck, absentmindedly shredding at the skin there as she continued, ignoring the shocked faces around her--she’d apologize later. “We want a clear answer. You obviously don’t know what happened to us in the facility, but we also don’t know what happened with the mission. You know--the reason we went into the facility.

“We know it wasn’t completely successful--we have the injuries to prove it, you had to resort to Plan B to get us out, so don’t cut around the chase. We don’t need the build-up. Not all of the explosives went off--but some did. So what’s the damage? How many of the explosives were actually triggered and what damage did they do? And give us a fucking clear answer for once, please and thanks.”

Her tone had been too sharp, too grating--she could see it on their faces; the way Grady’s hardened and he opened his mouth as if to reprimand her, remind her that they were all in the same boat; Mr. Forkle’s frown as he looked her over as if he didn’t recognize her; Edaline’s mouth fallen open in shock, eyes wide; Sandor’s crossed arms as he looked down at her--she couldn’t find it in herself to care.

“Fuck,” she whispered to herself, scratching more than just her neck now, desperately scrubbing at any accessible skin she could reach.

Why is it so...ITCHY. She didn’t know who’d transmitted it, maybe it’d been her. Maybe it’d been all of them--because they were all scratching, clawing, tearing at their skin.

Someone was talking--multiple someone’s--but she couldn’t hear much over the roaring of her skin stretched too tight against her bones, jerking and dancing and trembling beneath her fingers against her will. Her head bowed until it rested between her knees, shifting her shoulders blades as the heat in her body began to concentrate, spread, travel, like tiny rivers of lava searching against her skin.

“....Elwin….something’s…...tearing themselves apart…” was all she could discern through the scratching. Her fingertips became wet, something dripping down her skin, warm and slick--blood.

She’d drawn blood with just nails on skin.

And then she wasn’t in her own skin anymore.

Her shirt was soaked with ice, cool liquid poured over her back and sticking the bandages to her skin--ice to combat the heat. Sophie laid on her stomach in the cot, each of her friends around her, each of them back in the Healing Bubble.

Their heads were at the ends where their feet would normally be, so their faces were all closer to each other, as opposed to against the wall.

No one had anything to say, could even think of something to say, so they lay there on their stomachs, minds linked but quiet, buzzing with wordless thoughts as the heat in their backs continued to flow and ebb.

Ow, someone said dryly--Fitz, she realized a moment later.

It burns, Biana added, groaning as she shifted in her cot. Her face was coated in a sickly sheen of sweat and tears--and Sophie could see fresh scratches mingled in her scars.

Not as much as that scolding Foster whipper out earlier--I always knew you were feisty, but that was new. Keefe grinned at her as he said it, but she could see the grimace beyond it, the worry shadowing his face.

Her face burned--and not from pain--as she played over the memory in her mind. She’d lost control of herself in the pain and lashed out--and hadn’t cared.

Still didn’t care, if she was honest.

Everything she’d said was true, each quip had been her blunt opinions and desires, her frustrations. She just hadn’t meant to say it like that, but maybe it would convince the adults to stop being so avoidant and distant, to include them upfront for once.

Somehow, through all the trials and tribulation of the past few months, they’d remained secretive, stubborn, still trapped in this idea of superiority. Thinking the right approach, the right morals would get them through anything. It was bullshit--and she wanted them to know it.

Not that that had been her main priority when she’d started trying to peel her skin off with her bare hands--they all had. She’d been too in the moment to notice it, but as she’d hissed and scolded the adults and frantically scratched at herself, her friends were doing the same, only quietly, hazy, detached.

She’d taken the focus away from them, and it had taken a few moments longer for her friends' bodyguards to realize their charges were tearing themselves apart too.

Hmm. Oh. Yeah. That was an accident. She said quickly, realizing she’d never responded to Keefe’s comment, had gotten wrapped in her own mind. Dex and Marella snorted at her, all too aware of all the times she’d gotten distracted.

You were right, though, Maruca said, smiling slightly, looking just as wan as Biana--actually, no one looked good. You should yell at them more often; they listen to you.

I can’t believe we blew up a building, Linh whispered, and she buried her face into her cot as she shifted, reaching an arm behind her to scratch at the soaked fabric of her tunic. I just wish we’d gotten the whole thing at once.

Sophie nodded her agreement. Mr. Forkle had come in earlier to finally give them the report. His quiet, grave tone and his glances towards her had her looking away, embarrassed--no one would forget her little outburst anytime soon.

He’d been curt, to the point. Partly because of her, partly because Elwin was in the room, wrapping soaking cold bandages around their backs.

It had been...underwhelming. Anticlimactic. An entire outburst for one simple conversation.

Part of the facility was destroyed, buried in its own rubble beneath the ground, but not all of it. Not all the places they’d wanted to hit. Not enough to ruin the place like they’d intended. The plan had been to destroy all the “breeding”--they were man-made, so she didn’t know what to call them--parts of the facility, stop the flow of creatures from the source. Permanently damage the place in a way it couldn’t recover from.

Getting stuck in the facility threw a wrench in that.

Not only had some of the explosives remained dormant, but they’d discovered parts of the facility that were worse than they’d imagined. Sure, they’d gone in mostly blind, but they’d thought they had a general idea of the place. Turns out, nope. They’d need a thorough scouting of the inside of the building before they could bring it fully to its knees.

And none of them were in any shape to do that right now.

If it’s any consolation, at least there won’t be as many creatures coming from there now; we did do something. Fitz’s voice was soothing in her mind, and she flushed even brighter as she realized she’d subconsciously lowered her defenses and everyone had seen her replaying the memory.

You’d think being a telepath would give her better mental defenses, Marella teased. Sophie would’ve said something back, gotten them away from the conversation, but she watched Marella’s eyes flare slightly as her body tensed, teeth clenching together. Even though Marella was better at keeping private than Sophie, she still understood. She was trying to distract herself, and Sophie was an easy target--and one who wouldn’t mind.

She opened her mouth to speak, but was interrupted by a door opening off somewhere she couldn’t see, but she knew who it would be before the absurdly colorful tunic came into view.

“How are we feeling,” Elwin smiled down at them all, the light not quite reaching his eyes. “And answer out loud please,” he teased. “I can’t hear all that internal telepath stuff you guys do. I don’t even understand how you and Fitz managed to figure that out, but it’s certainly impressive.”

They didn’t quite know what to say to that.

“Oo-kay,” Elwin said, picking up on the silence. “Let’s start with Sophie then. Still hurt?”

She nodded, then realized she should probably say something out loud. “Yes. My back burns, even with the numbing and pain relief--although that did help. It’s bearable now.” He nodded, snapping his fingers a few times before realizing he hadn’t put on his glasses.

He sat down next to her cot, pushing the glasses up the bridge of his nose before snapping once again. A bright ball of neon blue came into being above her back, and Elwin frowned down at her, looking through her.

“Is something wrong,” Dex asked, though he sounded strangely muffled. Glancing at him, she saw he had his braided bracelet in his mouth, biting down on it as he spoke--to keep from gritting his teeth. So he was in pain too, she guessed. “Fuck,” he whispered a moment later, which confirmed her suspicion.

“I don’t know what I’m seeing,” Elwin admitted, looking toward Dex and seeing the same pain Sophie had. “I think I’ll need to up your pain meds, though.” He walked around the room as he said it, stopping by everyone as if confirming what he’d already suspected for each of them. “The soaked bandages aren’t doing as much as I’d hoped.”

“And? Do you know what’s causing it?” Wylie asked.

“I have some theories--but before you ask, not enough for it to be worth sharing.” He glanced back at Sophie. “And I’ve got something else I need to do with you first.”

He disappeared into the adjacent room--where his supply was kept--but she couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong wrong wrong.

Anyone else creeped out? Biana’s voice was quieter than normal, and she scrubbed a hand down her face, pulling at the skin as she tried to distract herself from the burning on her back.

Elwin is. Keefe answered. He’s so worried it started fogging up the room. I can’t feel anyone else’s emotions through the haze.

The tension in the room grew, almost palpable by the time Elwin reemerged, levitating an assortment of bottles and vials and rolls of bandages behind him.

“Who wants to go first,” he asked, cracked smile betraying the all-consuming worry she couldn’t unsee now that Keefe had pointed it out.

“For what?” multiple voices chorused.

“Taking off your shirt.”

They all blinked. He continued.

“I’d originally planned to leave the bandages for a while longer, but it seems I might’ve missed something my first time around, so I’ll need to remove them to see that. Right now you’re all wearing your shirts, so I can’t get to them. I’m only one physician, so one of you needs to go first.”

“I’ll do it.” Tam had propped himself on his elbows, but his eyes were on Linh.

Linh, whose breathing had become uneven with worry. Whose eyes were slightly too wide, lips too thin, face too pale. Too subtle to see unless you knew what you were looking for--and Tam did.

He looked to Sophie for a moment and started, not realizing how close she’d been paying attention; he scrunched his nose at her before looking to Elwin.

Elwin rolled with it. “Okay. Sit up. Shirt off.” Tam complied, swinging his legs over the edge of the cot, slowly removing his tunic and looking studiously at the ground, as if he could convince himself there was no one else there. They all looked the same, but her breath was still stolen for a moment.

His entire torso was wrapped in thick, sopping bandages, covering him completely from armpit to waist. But there was something...off...with them. They didn’t sit right against his wan skin. They seemed frumpy, almost. Digging into his skin at odd angles, stuck in other places.

Elwin frowned for a split second before continuing. “Face the wall for me,” he said, and Tam turned his back to all of them. “I’m going to remove the bandages.”

The room was silent except for the slow peeling of the wet bandages suctioned to the skin, everyone trying and miserably failing to pretend they weren’t watching. Elwin moved slow, peeling them away from the skin little by little, trying his best to be gentle. They’d stuck themselves to the skin like a bandaid.

His fingers faltered as Tam’s back was finally exposed, breath catching as he stopped all together. Sophie couldn’t stop herself from gasping, jerking upward as she saw his skin--and she wasn’t the only one; terror laced every face in the room.

At the pulsing amalgamation of black veins spread across his back.

What, Tam’s voice demanded, echoing throughout the mindbubble. He couldn’t see the horror his skin had become, the undulating black slipping in and out of the surface of his flesh, moving like some untold map inked upon his back.

No one could muster the words--but they couldn’t hide it from their thoughts either.

He inhaled sharply as he saw his own form through Sophie’s eyes, wide and frozen, fixated on that unnatural black.

“Alright,” Elwin said, shaking himself back into himself. “Clearly the bandages didn’t work as they should’ve.” There was no hint of anything in his voice, just clear determination and aloofness and he thought through the next steps. “I’m going to assume something similar if not identical has happened to the rest of you, so follow his example. Shirts off.”

Everyone complied in silence, and Elwin made his way around the room, removing their bandages. It was strange, seeing him in action. So often she was unconscious while he worked, and she decided right then and there she preferred it that way. With no tension, no anticipation as she sat there, waiting for the verdict. Then, she’d wake up and everything would be in order--or at least on track with a plan.

Not now.

Not as with each of her friends Elwin found another convergence of veins spread across their backs. Marella’s back was angry and red, scolding to the touch and letting off steam; Biana’s skin flickering in and out of view, threads of invisible flesh weaving between visible; Wylie’s glimmering and shining unnaturally, faint light emanating from his skin; each of them more and more unbearable until Sophie was closing her eyes and leaning her head between her legs, counting counting counting the seconds until this would be over. This would be done. This would be gone.

This wouldn’t last. She wouldn’t believe it. Whatever happened, this would end and everything would be better. She just had to wait it out. She would wait it out.

Finally, Elwin reached her, the last one in bandages. She couldn’t breathe as she faced the wall, his fingers pressing briefly against her skin before he began the process, already knowing what he would find.

Peel.

Rip.

Tear.

The bandages fell away, the pressure easing--but images of her back filled her mind from the perspective of her friends. Her skin was distorted, stretched and pale across her back, pulling with every minute movement as she finally had a visual on where the burning sensation originated.

Elwin said nothing for a long moment, surveying the room before speaking. “I’ll figure this out, don’t worry. It looks like the pressure on your backs from the bandages aggravated something, causing a severe reaction. For now, I think your skin needs to breathe, so we’ll leave them off for now and reassess in the morning. They were just to help with the burning sensation anyways, which we can treat differently. I don’t want to mess with anything else right now; your skin is too damaged.”

He made as if to look out a window, then remembered where they were, how deep underground, and glanced to the light fixtures instead. Dex had helped with them, lighting systems that corresponded with the time of day and brightness aboveground, a simulated sun in every room. They could be overridden, of course, if you needed light at midnight you wouldn’t just be left to flounder about in the dark, but most people just went along with the natural course of light.

The light at the top of the Healing Bubble was currently overridden, and Elwin tapped his imparter a few times before it switched back, the room becoming a deep, dusty purple-blue. He tapped one more time and faint flickers of white appeared on the walls, spattered across their faces and the ground, a projected sky full of constellations.

Linh sighed, leaning back in her cot before wincing, switching to leaning back on her hand and taking the pressure off the skin on her back.

“I know it’s pointless to ask for some of you,” Elwin began as he walked towards the door, glancing at Sophie. “But do try and get some rest. I’ll be in here if you need me--might pop out for a few minutes if I need supplies--and I’ll update your parents and bodyguards, alright?”

They all nodded, but it was Dex who said, “Can you...can we not do visits? Please. Just...not yet.” Elwin’s face softened at that and he nodded, then he was gone.

And their backs still burned.

Something was breaking--no, broken. No. Something was going to break.

She wasn’t there, but she was.

Before her spread a hall of mirrors, impossibly tall, stretching into infinity, soaring above her and cascading beneath her feet--did she have feet?

She stood in the center of the hallway, the mirrors extended to either side, no end in sight.

Was there a noise?

No. Yes.

She couldn’t tell.

But the foreboding sense, the dread, that was real. That was there, and it was growing stronger. Each moment she existed there among those mirrors was another moment that something grew closer. But what?

What was coming closer?

What was going to break?

Where did the--

Sophie jolted upright, blood rushing from her pounding head as she tried to maintain her balance--and failed, toppling back onto the blankets and pillows.

She laid there, still as stone, for longer than she’d meant to. If she didn’t move, nothing could find her, she was hidden hidden hidden. Nothing would break.

Something itched at her back, incessant and demanding as she laid there, trying to ignore the feeling. They hadn’t needed to call Elwin before they’d all fallen asleep--although it’d taken her a while. She didn’t want to need him now. She was so close to believing everything was going to be okay. So so close.

She didn’t want to let go of that.

Beside her, Marella twitched in her cot, her fingers grasping at the blankets, small sparks shimmering at her fingertips, brow furrowed, breathing heavily as though stuck in a nightmare. Sophie didn’t want to wake her, didn’t even have the mental capacity to realize maybe she could.

Her breath came too fast, her head too light as she lay there.

She sat up, trying to escape the foreboding feeling of just sitting there, waiting there. It had very suddenly become less comforting than it’d been only moments before.

Something was wrong.

Something was

wrong

wrong.

Sophie stood, grimacing as her body tried to correct itself as she tilted side to side, head still spinning. She blinked a few times, and the room came into sickeningly clear view, down to the motes of dust swirling in the air.

She blinked again and the effect was gone.

Again, and it reappeared.

Sophie spun, the forms of her friends asleep in the cots staying in focus despite the movement, searching searching searching for, she knew it was here--there.

The mirror.

Tucked to the side, covered with a bolt of fabric, she pulled it out, resting it between Keefe and Fitz’s cots, tearing down the covering.

She pressed up close to the surface, pulling at the skin of her face as she looked into her own eyes, trying to see what she knew knew knew she wasn’t imagining.

Wide, terrified eyes stared back at her, scanning and searching for something, anything, watching the flickering projected constellations move across her skin. All she saw was herself, standing before the mirror in the clothes Elwin had given her, given all of them. The tank top was the same bland cream of the shorts, courtesy of the gnomes, who had helped mass-produce different things at the expense of individuality. There was nothing...her about what stared back. She knew she knew there was something she was missing--there.

A gleam. The light caught in the whites of her eyes and she could see the glossy film coating her entire eye. She blinked, willing it to disappear, and it was gone.

She did it again.

The film came back, and with it, frightening clarity. She could see everything, down to the individual strands of hair floating about her face.

She couldn’t think, couldn’t hear over her heartbeat pulsing in her ears. She put a hand to her chest, all her skin numb except for the fire dancing its way across her flesh. She couldn’t feel anything. No sensation. She may as well have been a bottomless pit instead of a person.

Wait. That heartbeat in her mind...that wasn’t hers.

She turned to face the room of her sleeping friends, blissfully unaware of her all-encompassing panic, watching with dawning horror as she realized it was...all their pulses, ringing in her ears alongside her own.

Out of the corner of her eye, movement caught her attention, something thin and shining, and she whirled her head around to face it, face the mirror.

The world tipped itself upside down at what she saw, the two stumps poking out from her shoulder blades, exposed by that mass-produced tank top.

They sat there, moving with her as she breathed too quickly, as though they’d always been there.

Purples blended into small blue feathers, creating stability at the base, and beyond that stretched something so thin, small vein-like patterns reaching out out out, a film between the shapes it created, like a--

Wing.

Like a wing.

Sophie fell to her knees before the mirror, the air stifling.

Those were wings growing from her back.

Taglist: @loudnerdfest @rainbowtay-11 @cadence-talle @pyrokinetic-loser @ahecktonoffandomsinoneblog @itstiger720 @loverofallthingssmart @cowboypossume @jolieharkness @wings-of-hell-and-beyond @shellyseashell @blossomjenniie @akotlcblog @imaramennoodle @booknerdddddd

#thoughts anyone?#i do so love a cliffhanger #come back in two weeks for reprieve lmao #but like seriously what are you Thoughts #*your #formatting these takes so long because im too lazy to do it the easy way #anyways #kotlc #kotlc wings au #kotlc fic #shattered upside down #my writing <3 #keeper of the lost cities

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kukukape · 3 years

Text

Richard Malik x Operative: The Whistleblower

This the first time I've posted a fic in a while, but I'm excited! Let me know if you want to be added to the taglist 😊

Tags: @simping-for-sandayu-oda @luciewarrenx3

•••

Richard had to admit, he'd come up with more... enjoyable plans than this one. He grunted as the Albion thug's knee collided with his stomach, again. Wanker was enjoying this way too much.

His eyes flicked to the camera ever so subtly. Not that the bastard would've noticed, he was too busy trying to decide which way to assault Richard Malik next. But he could see it moving around a bit sporadically, as if its operator were trying to get his attention.

And even in the midst of great pain, he had to fight a smirk. Things were already going accordingly.

"U-ugh!" He grunted as the Albion guard pulled him up by his hair and punched him in the face.

Welp, time to fall back into character.

"I-I'm not who you think I am, I-I swear!"

A slap across the face. Backhanded. Richard had to admit, that hurt his pride more than it did his face.

"You're Malik! A SIRS officer and a leaky fucking twat!" Richard, with his forehead resting against the cold concrete, found himself wanting to smile at his own notoriety.

Malik. That name carried weight in SIRS. In London's infrastructure of justice and security. This scared, begging persona wasn't him. This was a choice.

He was a spy. Slippery, and willing to relinquish his true character for his mission.

His breathing quickened with faux fear as the Albion officer picked him up by the collar, bunching up his silken silver tie amidst the action. "That's not me, I s-swear to god, please- PLEASE-"

---

Angel's heart nearly stopped when Bagley cut the feed. "Fuck…" she whispered. She had half a mind to curl up on the curb and let a grey gloom consume her, but Bagley was too much of a dick to allow that.

"Fuck is right! And fucking dead is what he'll be if you don't hurry," he said in his not-so-robotic deadpan.

Dead. Murdered. Killed?

All words and possibilities that resonated with Angel. She took a deep shaky breath, squeezing the steering wheel of her Atterley. "Drop a pin please, Bags," she said.

"I already did, while you were having a little panic attack."

Instead of meeting his snark with her own, Angel kicked the car into gear, speeding towards the construction site. From first gear to third, then sixth... and she was skidding to a stop by the sidewalk before she knew it.

Her optik buzzed as someone got onto comm. It was Brian, the team's most senior hitman. "Scope the place out before you go in. This could be a trap for all we know, so-"

The soft patters of a silenced P9, followed by two separate cries cut Brian off.

"Angel! Bagley, what's she-"

"She's storming the place like the baboon cousin she is!" Bagley exclaimed, "You know for a spy, she's rather uncovert." Which only said the absolute least.

The bodies were shrouded before the spy moved on, picking off another soldier just as they were turning the corner. A bullet between his eyes before he even knew he was in danger, and cloaked to make his death even less apparent.

Pressed against a corner wall, Angel took her phone out and let the news drone above become her eyes. "Bagley, help me find him," she said urgently.

"There's a closed off room in the back. Try there," he said. Angel jumped from camera to camera, her heart squeezing a bit every time she didn't see Richard.

Just when she was about to crack her phone in her grip, she saw him. Wrists tied, on his knees, gaze trained on the floor as he tried to catch his breath.

Angel knew this picture of him. Years ago, in a dirt-floored cell where they huddled together for just an inch of warmth. The image made her shudder, so forcefully mentally that she did so physically too.

She flinched again when Brian came over the comm. "Alright, there he is. I suggest you take out the rest of the guards before you go in," he said.

From soldier, to spy, and now to soldier again. Angel nodded as she squeezed the hilt of her gun. "I'll get right on it."

---

Richard chewed the inside of his cheek as he stared at the floor. He could feel a pair of eyes on him once again, staring through that same metal lense. He didn't dare turn to look, didn't dare break character.

Until he heard the camera screech, as if it wanted him to turn. And, flinching in surprise, he did.

He looked at the camera, wondering why the DedSec operative who'd come for him wanted to make their presence so known. Richard eyed the camera for a moment, searching for something deeper beyond the blank, metallic lense.

Of course, he found nothing. But just the notion of the operative- who he was all too sure was finally here- trying to communicate you're safe, it's okay, made him want to chuckle.

He gave the camera an acknowleding smirk, and ever so slight tilt of his head.

"AHH!" A soldier just outside screamed.

Richard's head whipped around again, and he heard some indecipherable yelling, along with the heavy footsteps of Albion-approved military boots. Somebody was obviously getting their ass kicked outside, because he only heard one person grunting in pain as limbs connected with their target.

Then silence.

He never really liked the quiet. It meant that nothing was happening, and for Richard, something always had to be happening. He couldn't predict quiet. Couldn't scheme it, outsmart it.

Thank god it didn't last long, before the metal door squealed open and quiet footsteps pittered in.

Richard kept his gaze down, as would a man currently fearing for his life. He'd been that enough times to know how to imitate it.

The 'fwoop' of a knife unsheathing made him flinch genuinely. But a steady, smooth... familiar voice eased him.

"Easy. It's just me," she said. Just me, she said. As if he were supposed to know her.

And he did. Oh lord, he did. And the mixture of fear, anger, regret, and happiness in him was too genuine for somebody so used to lying in the face of everyone short of his mother and father's graves.

The fearful part of him was scared to turn around and look at her as she cut through his restraints easily. But he didn't have a choice really, as she walked around and kneeled in front of him, cupping his face with both hands and searching for any injuries to his visage.

Richard was a confident man. Strong, assured, and decorated from head to toe in awards that highlighted his ingenius.

But he looked like a dumb fish in that moment, his mouth slightly ajar and eyes wide.

"…Angel?" He asked softly as her calloused fingertips subconsciously brushed across his brow, stretching down to touch his jaw.

---

"That's my name," she said dryly as she searched his face, looking anywhere but his eyes. Her hand reached into the pocket on his shirt, where she knew he kept a handkerchief. "Hold still, you look horrible," she said. Not that a handkerchief was gonna fix that, but whatever.

She wiped blood from his jaw, and the bits that had gotten onto his cheek. She chewed on the inside of her cheek to keep more words than necessary from escaping her.

I missed you.

Are you okay?

I know this is a farce, so what are you playing?

All reasonable, but Angel couldn't utter any of them. Because Richard Malik, her friend for all of their youth, her partner in war, her lover for that one night back in college, was right in front of her.

She raked a hand through his hair, which was as close to saying I'm glad you're okay as she was gonna get. And he grabbed her wrist gently.

Brown eyes met a lighter shade. Both of them soft, affectionate, and untrusting.

"You're Dedsec," he said it firmly but quietly. Looking for confirmation. Hoping she'd say no, she just happened to be walking down the street and decided to shoot up a restricted Albion area for shits and giggles.

But she nodded. And a pride she never had while working at SIRS shined in her eyes.

Angel helped him to his feet and cleared her throat. They clearly weren't gonna do the whole "So what've you been up to the past six years?" thing, so she spoke first, "We got the call from you. What was that all about?"

A look of shock passed over Richard's eyes. And Angel could tell what he was thinking. Probably wondering where that smile she always used to greet him with had gone.

But he remembered himself quicklyc straightening his tie with a nervous hand. "I'll upload the intelligence onto an anonymous FTP. You can sort through it-"

"No, I want to hear it from you," Angel cut him off rigidly.

Richard inhaled as his whole "My name is Richard Malik, herdyderdyder," speech was thrown out the window. "I believe I've discovered who Zero-Day really is; rogue SIRS officers from the CT unit who then framed Dedsec for the TOAN bombings."

"Men working under you?" Angel raised one elegant brow. "I always got the impression the CT unit was always fiercely loyal," she commented.

And back to the games they went. This time, for the first time, against each other.

He let out a humorless laugh. "You know how good I am at making enemies," he said, reaching for the door handle.

"Wait, Richard," she said quickly. Angel's hand shot out to grab his arm. He looked down at her in surprise.

…Down at her.

Since when was he so damn tall? And handsome…

No, no, stop it, monkey brain.

"I…" Angel's jaw moved uselessly for a moment, before she simply yanked him into am embrace. Richard made a surprised sound. Way too many surprises for one day for him.

But this one, he could tolerate.

Hesitantly, he wrapped one arm around her shoulders while hers linked around his neck tightly. Her cheek was pressed against his chest, and he could smell the shampoo drifting from her hair. "It's… good to see you again, Angel," he said quietly.

Angel chuckled once, before inhaling sharply and slowly pulling away. Out of his reach once again.

"We'll, uh... check out the info," she said, nodding before moving to step by him. But she paused by the door, then reached back over to him. Richard watched dumbly as she fixed his silver tie, straightening it back up and patting his chest twice. And she smiled.

"You grew up nicely, Richard," she said, before slipping out the door.

Richard stood there dumbly for a moment, a thousand different things racing through his head.

But the one thing that stood out the most was the fact that his plans had definitely just been shaken.

~end~

#richard malik #watchdogs #watch dogs legion #wdl #give this man a GOLD STAR #for being HOT #richard malik x oc

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allandoflimbo · 4 years

Text

Take It Back (Chapter 25)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Summary: About five years ago, a one night stand with Y/N tore Bucky’s life apart. It was also the night before his wedding. Now he’s married to her sister and she needs a place to stay.

Chapter Warnings: Steve catches Bucky and Reader in the act and it gets messy. Lots of cursing, language, mentions of crude sex.

Take It Back Full Masterpage |

Chapter 24 |

New York City, New York

The Concorde Hotel

The sound of your heavy panting and a sinful zipper fills the hotel room.

You had expected Bucky to show up and for you two to finally talk out a plan, but you hadn’t expected that.

You’re momentarily stunned as you feel the quick chuckle of his breath on the break of your neck where your coral top was slowly sinking down your flushed shoulder.

“God, I’m so sorry. I’ve just wanted to do that for so long.”

It’s a low timber that could leave any woman weak at the knees.

His sexual confession makes you press your thighs together and a jot shoots from your core making you groan. The quick orgasm was still leaving small chills up and down your spine.

Had that really just happened?

You spin around slowly until you’re fallen up against the wall, its surface the only thing keeping you from falling to your knees. It was obvious how much he had worn you out with such minimal effort.

The smug face that haunted your dreams for seven years is looking back at you with no shame and not even a small trickle of regret. A devilish smirk peeks at the edges of his pretty rose lips. Your heart hammers away in your chest - the reality of what was happening not having yet sunk in completely. Your chest warmed up deliciously slow as your eyes glossed over, a feeling of love and simplicity consuming you.

You’ve felt something similar when you saw that wedding dress, the one you still couldn’t stop thinking about it. The way you had felt when you saw it was the same way you felt right now as you tried your best to keep your focusing on the figure standing in front of you.

Bucky notices the change of air between the both of you, just by that look in your eye, and soon his are mimicking yours; Love. Simplicity.

What was sexual lust and carnal need only a few minutes ago, had now transcended into something delicate and sweet.

A short breath escapes his chest as you hook both your pointer fingers into the loops of his jeans, pulling him forward until his face fell naturally against yours. You didn’t care that your pants and underwear were still pulled down and that you were vulnerably on full display.

You pressed your lips against his and kissed him as your life depended on it.

For the first time since yesterday, you finally allowed it all to sink in. You and Bucky were now in each other's arms, together. A couple? You weren’t sure. All that you were certain of was that Bucky Barnes was in your arms, and you were kissing him like you had wanted to for the last seven years that you’ve known him. He returns it eagerly.

It was a sweet kiss, mostly a peck until you had his bottom lip tugged in between both of yours. You pulled back with a moan.

Your soft eyes slowly flickered open and you were surprised to see him already staring down at you with so much admiration in his eyes, that when you decided to speak, you couldn’t help that it came out so breathlessly.

“And that’s all I ever wanted.”

His gaze drifts down to your parted lips.

A curse escapes Bucky as he closes eyes.

With a soft nudge and a twist of his head, he allows his nose to hit the side of yours, and he just stays like that - smelling your sweet perfume and the softness of your bare hips in his hands. He squeezes you there just softly enough to leave his indents on your flesh.

Carefully, he raises his left hand to the top of your head and his eyes open again as he drags his fingers over the top of your hair.

He sighs contently as he caresses your tenderly and watching your face. He couldn’t help but just look sometimes.

You were beautiful.

He continues to trail his fingers until they are down at your arms. You whimper softly as he rubs small circles onto your forearms, the little hairs grazing the tips of his prints.

You allow him to take your hand in his.

Then, you feel it.

You swallow thickly as your eyes land on his lips.

You loved him so much. But the reminder of his commitment killed you.

You hold his hand in yours and bring it chest level. He looks down as you caress his hand, as your thumb grazes the unsettling silver band on his ring finger.

It shines brightly, and it was as if you knew that the insides were branded with her and his initials with a date. The same exact date after the night you and him made love for the first time.

His eyes follow yours when he sees the smallest of tears in the whites of your gaze.

Your name escapes his mouth, almost cautiously.

Aside from the pain and the tormented reminder that he wasn’t yours yet, a sad smile plays on your mouth, “I love these hands,” a long breath escapes your lips as your eyes flicker close again still in a post-orgasmic blaze. You bring his hands up to your lips.

You kiss him there softly, “but this ring.”

Bucky swallowed hard.

“What we just did was so wrong,” You continue softly, “What we did all those years was wrong because we are doing this to her unfaithfully. We need to tell her the truth, Bucky. This can’t keep happening while she doesn’t know. I already feel like an awful person because of it. Regardless of how we might feel about her right now.”

He licks his lips.

Bucky flips his hand around so he’s now holding yours, your fingers inside of his much larger hand. He squeezed tightly.

Your eyes meet his and he’s staring at you without batting a single eyelash.

“I know. I just couldn’t help it,” He moves up until his front is against yours and the heat radiates off his body once more. You react naturally as your body moves in just as close to his, “Do you know how many times I pictured you instead of her?” You gape at him.

Because, no. You never would’ve guessed that the last five years while you were suffering, hating yourself, feeling guilty because you couldn’t be with him and yet you wanted him, that he was picturing you the entire time.

“How many dreams I had of you riding me-“ his voice drops several octaves lower and it makes your body tremble, “screaming my name?”

Your eyes bore into his now black ones and you know yours probably look the same. You swore he could feel the pulse on your wrist quicken against his fingers because you could feel it in your bloodstream.

You tilted your head at him almost comically as your body continued to hum for his, hum for a damn second round.

“Bucky.” You begged.

“Baby, you’re my perfect fit. I promise. We will tell her.”

You felt salty tears in your throat as you croaked out.

“When?”

Soon. So I can have you. You saw the wires turning in his head until he finally spoke.

“In the next few days.”

You bit your lip and nodded. You both stood there quietly in a mix of giggles and soft moans as he helped you pull your undergarments and pants back on properly.

A soft pink-tinted the edges of his cheeks as he buttoned it up for you, almost like he didn’t just take you up against a hotel room wall.

You whisper a small thank you and after one small last peck, you let him take your hand and drag you towards your bed.

He’s the first to sit down, and once you do so yourself, he’s got his hands already on you again. Although this time his hand is in your hair and he’s just holding your head tenderly.

“We have to talk about everything,” he runs that damn thumb over the back of your head, “I especially need you to talk to me about you and Steve. Before I can officially go through with any of this, I need to know the extent of it.”

You let your head fall shamefully as you tried to rack your brain for the correct words to start this conversation right.

You straighten yourself up, taking his hands in your own hand. “Look-“

A knock on the door startles the both of you and your heads both shoot up simultaneously towards the direction of the hotel door.

Both of your stares linger on it.

It comes in waves, first, you’re both shocked, then afraid, and then confused.

Bucky looks over at you and he sees a look on your face that he notices is probably the same way his own is right now.

He drops his voice down to just below a whisper.

“Are you expecting someone?” Your eyes stay on the door for a second longer before you shake your head.

“No, no one knows I’m here.” “Are you sure? Just me?” Your eyes squint together as you try to think. An unsettling feeling settles in your gut as you think about the only possible person it could be.

“I mean, I told Steve but I never gave him the room number.”

Bucky curses as a hand runs down the bridge of his nose.

You continue to shake your head, more to yourself than anything.

“He wouldn’t bribe someone downstairs would he?”

Bucky sighs. “This is Steve we’re talking about. He’s been crazy about you since the moment he met you, plus I hired him for a reason. I wouldn’t put it past him.”

You shake your head in denial, once more. Your face quickly pales.

“Or, it could be housekeeping.” You insist.

Another persistent knock rings out throughout the room.

Bucky quickly gets up and your heart jumps from zero to one thousand as you quickly seek out his hand to make him sit back down.

Bucky notices your worried stance and the fear in your eyes and he lets out a small sigh.

He bends down and takes your face in his hands, “Look, I’ll go hide in the bathroom and you go see who it is.”

You bit your bottom lip worriedly and then finally nodded. Giving his hand one last squeeze, you watched him go into the bathroom, shutting it closed behind him.

You wait for it to click.

Taking a deep breath, you make your way towards your door. You weren’t sure what to expect, and that scared you.

When you open it, your worst suspicions are confirmed.

His blue-green eyes softened as his eyes lay on your worried ones. You physically see the weight lift off his shoulder as an exasperated sigh leaves his lungs as he takes a step towards you.

He wraps his left arm around your waist and his right one goes to the back of your head as he hugs you closer towards him.

You never felt so uncomfortable, so guilty.

You allow your hands to linger on his back for just a second, its dark grey texture digging into the crooks of your fingers.

You feel him inhale your scent and that does it for you.

“Steve.” His hold tightens around you. He walks you both in all the way and shuts the door close behind him. When he pulls back he takes your face into both his hands and he searches your face for anything out of the ordinary. Almost as if you were physically hurt.

“I was so worried. You haven’t been answering your phone.”

He leans into for a kiss but you quickly pull away. It ends up being a small peck as only the tips of his lips catch yours.

Your hand goes to his chest as you stare up at him confused. “How’d you get my room number?”

“I asked at the front desk.” He shrugs, “I was goddamn worried about you.” He plays with your strand of hair on your shoulder, twirling it around his finger. The other drags across your face and then catches your hand again.

“Why are you here?”

He stares into your eyes, taken aback.

You hadn’t meant for it to come out so sharply.

“What do you mean why am I here? I’m your boyfriend.”

There’s a long silence that borderlines awkward as your eyebrows lift and your eyes look around nervously.

Steve gives you a confused look. He watches the flicker of different emotions across your face. Finally, you speak out and his hand tightens on yours.

“Steve, you kicked me out.” You whisper painfully, “What makes you think this is still a thing, after what happened?” It was like you physically slapped him. He literally recoils and you swallow hard at what you were doing to him.

So much guilt.

Steve takes in a deep breath as he shakes his head.

“I told you to go and make things right, and then for you to come back because I would be waiting for you. You told me you still wanted to try. I gave you a chance to make things easier for you, for us,” he moves in closer, eyes on your lips, “I didn’t break up with you.”

You try to make sense of what he’s saying as you back away from him.

“I told you that the reason I gave us a try is that I wanted to regardless of the past. But then that night-“ “That night we couldn’t have sex. And that’s okay. It’s because you hadn’t moved on. But now you can.”

It was like you were punched in the heart. You watched his hopeful eyes and your heart broke in pity for him. He thought that you telling Bucky how you felt would mean he could finally have you.

He takes your other hand in his and pulls you in until you are right up against him. You look away quickly trying to avoid looking at him as much as you could. You could feel his breath on your face and you could feel his heavy glare on you.

Your eyes flicker only briefly towards the bathroom door, where your lover was.

His best friend.

“Is that why you’ve been leaving me on read? Because you thought I didn’t want to be with you anymore?”

“Steve…”

“I love you.”

He says it so quickly and so passionately that for a second you forget about pushing him away. Your heart hadn’t prepared you for his declaration and you’re staring up at him with hot tears in your eyes.

No, this was your fault. You led him on. And now he loved you.

What had you done?

“So much.” He grits out. You were hurting him and it was hurting him. You physically recoiled just as he had done earlier as you tried to pull away from him.

Sharply, you turn your head to look away.

“Steve.”

Bucky was leaning against the sink as he heard everything. The position you were both currently in was a tough one and his own best friend just told you he loved you, and god knows what else he was doing to you.

Was he trying to kiss you?

Steve’s grip tightened on your hands as rejection aimed a tough blow into his stomach. He felt the pain.

“Please,” and it had him in a vice grip, “Say it back, please.”

God. What had you done?

You sniffed loudly as you continued to try and pull away from him. Your eyes flickering once more towards the bathroom door, as if you were involuntary asking for help. It was a subconscious action.

“Why do you keep looking over there?”

You stilled as your eyes slowly drifted back to his. His brows were furrowed as he darted his gaze from the bathroom door and then back to you.

He took your long silence as an answer in it itself. He stood up a bit taller and looked down at your now pale face, like a true woman caught red handed.

He took a step back from you and quickly dropped your hand. You tried to open your mouth to answer but nothing came out.

“Is someone here?” He only allowed you a few seconds to answer - to which you failed miserably - before making his way towards the bathroom door in a heavy stance.

“Steve-“ you tried to stop him, but it was too late.

He quickly swung open the door only for the both of you to be met with a pair of blues that looked nothing short of fearful.

You felt your heart’s pace quicken inside of your chest as you stared at the two men.

Steve’s hand was still tight around the doorknob as his breath quickened at the sight in front of him.

You watched as Bucky’s Adam apple bobbed heavily and as he took a step back. His eyes dart towards yours briefly.

“What the hell are you doing here?” Steve asks. The silence is long - too long. Steve takes another step towards Bucky which makes him flinch slightly, “I mean, I’m sure there’s a good reason as to why you’re in my girlfriend’s hotel room.”

Bucky took a deep breath at Steve’s choice of words.

“Steve-“ Bucky starts.

Steve looks back at you, “because she told me that things didn’t work out.”

You gulp nervously.

“You didn’t let me ex-“ you try.

“Let me explain, man-“ Bucky says at the same time.

“Don’t you fucking dare!” It’s a roar.

Steve’s exclamation startles both of you. Steve’s red now and he’s towering over Bucky, making Bucky bend against the bathroom sink almost abnormally.

“You knew- you knew how I felt about her,” Bucky’s collar is now in Steve’s fists as he’s got Bucky’s face only a few inches away from his, “You knew I liked her and you still went on and chased her. Even after I told you to stay away.” You were worried about two of the most important people in your life, but Steve’s statement sparks a deep interest in you.

What did he mean he told Bucky to stay away?

Bucky’s hands were wrapped tightly around Steves’ as he tried to pry him off of him.

“Get off of me, Steve.” Bucky was repeating calmly as Steve confined on.

“How could you? And the entire time you had your own damn girlfriend,” Steve suddenly shoves Bucky towards the side making him topple over against the wall, the sound of his head hitting against it echoing painfully around the room.

This stuns you and you wonder if Bucky is hurt, “Steve, stop!”

Steve stares down at Bucky, breathing hard.

“She told me what you did. And on your own wedding day.”

Bucky’s eyes flicker up from the floor to meet yours and you see the question in them. You hadn’t told him yet that Steve knew. One more person out of the two of you knew about that night.

Steve felt the pain in his heart and the betrayal in his blood.

“Why?!” Steve roared. It looked like he was going to pounce on Bucky again and you and him both flinch.

A soft whimper escapes Bucky.

“Please stop!” You begged.

You hated watching him in pain.

Steve’s eyes snap up to yours.

“You’re defending him? Y/N, baby, look at what he did to you for so many years of your life. How much time he wasted. And then you tell him you still love him and he sends you away to some damn hotel? Doesn’t the fact that he hasn’t even told his own wife about this make you concerned? I’m protecting you. Someone who actually loves you.” Steve looks between the both of you, “This isn't loving. This is some messed up situation that clouded your mind just because he slept with you. Please don’t this just because of one night. If he really loved you he would’ve told you back when you were still twenty-two.”

“You don’t know anything.” Bucky spats as he manages to lift himself onto one arm on the floor.

“Fuck. I love her-“ Steve tried ones more time, pointing a daunting finger down at Bucky, “You knew!”

“I know you fucking did!” Bucky hollers, “I know, man, and I’m sorry. I know you liked her, and I rooted for you, I did, but then I fell in love with her. I tried to stop, but I couldn’t. And I’m sorry. I’m sorry this entire mess happened.”

Steve took a deep breath as he started between both of you, allowing Bucky to finally stand up on his two feet.

Steve’s eyes finally landed on Bucky and Bucky swallowed thickly, wondering if he should prepare for another blow.

Maybe even a punch to the face.

But Steve’s voice is surprisingly calm.

“I used to think you were a good guy. You were my best friend.” “I’m still all those things, just let me explain it to you.” “Like hell, you are. You’re a cheater and you’re a traitor. And you stole my girl.”

Bucky’s breath hitched.

“I’m going to tell, Ashlyn! This week. We’re finally going to tell her the truth.” Bucky exclaims, “You’re right because she deserves to know. She deserves to know about all of this.”

“Let me ask you something. Before you came here, did you know that I and her were a thing?”

Steve asks slowly, looking between you and Bucky. Your eyes fall to the floor below you and, if possible, you feel even worse.

Bucky gulps as he looks between you and Steve.

“Yes, I knew.”

Steve nods.

“Steve, I’m gonna tell her. I’m tired of this hiding just as much as you are.”

Steve shrugs nonchalantly, “And then what? You’re gonna let me have my girl back?”

The fire that ignites in Bucky’s chest is severe, and a big wave of jealously washes over him. His nostrils flare as he takes in your body, your gorgeous face.

You.

The love of his life.

The answer is simple and he doesn’t have to think twice before saying it.

“No.”

“No?”

Bucky’s eyes are hard as he eyes Steve down.

“No, because she’s not your girl.”

Your breath hitched and you watched as Steve’s face fell. It was as if his angry and fierce attitude suddenly left his body and all that was left was a broken man.

You could practically see Bucky’s fingers itching to take his friend into a tight hug and apologize.

This situation - you should’ve known that no one would get out of it without getting hurt.

You felt so bad for Steve as you watched small tears fill his eyes.

He quickly blinked them away and cleared his throat.

“Please man, just stop forcing it onto her.” Bucky breathes out, tired. A small chuckle in the form of a sob escapes Steve’s lips as he looks down towards the floor.

It’s then that he sees it the far left corner of the little foyer:

The filled condom, tied off at the end;

Fresh.

He feels his heart break again as he nods his head quickly. He had never felt such pain in his life before.

And from the two most important people in his life.

With eyes brimming with tears, he looked directly at Bucky, meeting his eyes.

“You’re not my friend anymore.”

His voice cracks as he says it.

He spins around to face you and you want nothing more than to say how sorry you are for leading him on for so long.

“Don’t call me.” He tells you.

You’re left stunned as Steve walks out of the room, letting the door slam close behind him.

There’s an dark black Audi SUV with tinted windows parked right outside The Concorde.

The woman inside the car sits in the backseat and she watches the entrance cautiously, a pair of Dior sunglasses framing the top half of her face.

She asks the driver to drive up a bit as she sees a familiar figure leaving the same building where her husband had just walked into about a half-hour before. The man looked distraught, very visibly upset.

The revelation shocks her and she quickly dials a number in her contacts.

It answers after a few rings.

“Meet me at my office. Ask Wanda to come, too.”

She quickly hangs up as she pushes her sunglasses farther up the bridge of her nose.

“Jarvis, to the tower, please.”

The car starts to move out of it’s parked spot.

“Yes, Mrs. Barnes.”

Two pairs of eyes followed the woman in concern as she paced back and forth in front of her desk.

She wore a small coat and tight jeans, her red heels clicking with every step.

“Are you sure it was Steve?” Wanda asked.

Ashlyn spins around almost too quickly and narrows her eyes at Wanda.

“Do you think I’m blind, Wanda? Yes, it was Steve! Five years missing, and one day he shows up out of the blue? I just want to know why he looked so upset. Something happened in there.”

“Maybe it was work-related, Ashlyn. Maybe he’s trying to get his job back?” Natasha inquired as she crossed her legs in front of her.

“I don’t know. Something was really off about Bucky, to begin with, it’s why I followed him. And then…” she trailed out in thought.

Wanda and Nat shared a look with each other.

“I told you how my sister was back, right?” “Yes.” They both answer without a beat, but both tones lingering in slight fear.

They knew things Ashlyn didn’t.

“Apparently, she and Steve are involved now. Something is going on and I don’t think it’s a coincidence that they’ve both showed up at the same time after five years.”

“I think you’re overthinking this.” Nat quipped.

“Am I, Nat?” Ashlyn asked back. Nat knew for a fact that Ashlyn actually wasn’t far off but she was going to off her boss and a good friend like that.

Nat swallowed nervously and looked away.

“Maybe just ask Bucky, yourself?” Wanda asked innocently. She caught Nat’s eyes, “Or not, I don’t know.”

Ashlyn looked around her desk, “I could, I could. But there has to be another way.” “Honestly, Ashlyn. What is on your mind? You seem to think there’s more to this than there really is?” Nat asks shrugging, “I’m afraid to know what you’re thinking.”

Ashlyn leaned forward onto her desk as the tip of her left foot tapped on the floor. She was thinking.

“I don’t know yet. But I’m going to find out..”

Cars slowly passing right down on main street

don't keep driving, let me say something

You were sitting on the bed in a lost daze, the used condom was now thrown in the trash, and Bucky was running his hands through his hair, pulling at the strands.

“Do you think he’s gonna say anything?” You ask, staring blankly at an empty spot on the ground.

Truth was, you were still hurt by the way Steve had spoken to both of you. But you were also now afraid. If Steve had reacted that way, you could only imagine how your sister would.

Bucky shook his head back and forth.

“No, I don’t think he would do that,” a long sigh leaves his lips, “But this is still a mess.” You nod.

There’s another break of silence.

“I think we should talk now, Bucky.”

Bucky’s eyes meet yours and he nods. He sits down next to you and takes your hands into his.

You were still looking away, so damn afraid.

“Look at me.”

You take in a deep breath before tightening your hold on his hands. You look up until your eyes meet.

“I’m sorry about you and Steve.”

You rub your thumb over the back of his hand.

“I’m sorry, too.” You say.

“We’ll have a better chance to talk to him. We can make this better I promise. I know he’s so mad at us right now, and it was wrong of me to cross the line that I did, he’s not wrong. But I think he just needed to get that anger out of his system.”

You nod.

“What is it?”

“I just, he kind of has a point,” Bucky’s eyes narrow at you in confusion, “Why did you wait this long to tell me you loved me? Why not when it was easier?”

“The same reason you didn’t,” He clicks his tongue as he looks away, “Look at the situation we were both in. I was dating someone I thought I was supposed to be with, you were so much younger than me, and I thought you were way out of my league.”

A soft chuckle escapes you.

“What? Me out of your league?”

Bucky gives you a small smile and nods.

“Yes,” suddenly his little smile fades and he looks down at where your hands are clasped together, “Now let me ask you. I need to know why you think I didn’t love you when I so clearly told you I did.”

Your eyes look into each other soothingly and you can’t help but lean in and kiss him on the lips. Bucky moaned as you release your left hand from his, running it up the side of his jaw. You let your lips linger together for a second longer before you look up at him through hooded eyes.

“Come here.”

You whisper almost silently.

Bucky follows you as you climb up the bed towards the headboard. You pull him along with you with your right arm, bringing him to lay down next to you.

It’s these moments that you always longed for with him.

You feel the goosebumps on the surface of your skin as he runs his own hand now up your jaw and into the hair right behind your ear.

“Tell me.”

Your fingers linger on the tips of his nose and his lips as you start telling him. “Nat had told me something when we were first becoming friends. I think she was afraid I was catching feelings for you and she told me to be careful because you have a tendency of coming off a bit strong. She said you were like that with other girls when you and her were dating,”

“Jeez, I didn’t even know you knew about me and her.” “Anyway. I thought that I was reading the signs all wrong. I thought maybe that was just how you were - sweet. I was reading too much into our moments. But sometimes those moments became so strong, that I thought it was crazy you didn’t feel the same, but since I wasn’t your girl and because you never actually asked me to be, or let alone told me how you felt, that it was all unrequited.”

“Baby…”

“It was always her. You always gave her everything I wanted. And I don’t mean material things. Your time. You always gave her all your time, and I still loved you through it all.”

Bucky whimpered quietly as he leaned in and captured you in a toe-curling kiss. His hands dragged from your head down to your back and down the side of your arm. He tucks it underneath and grabs you by your waist, pulling you tighter into him.

You feel his tongue play at your bottom lip and your open yours to let him into your hot mouth. You groan and your wrap your left leg around his torso.

He pulls away way too soon, and he’s nudging the side of his nose against yours. He chuckles against your lips, his thumb flicking the bottom one playfully.

“Nat and all her overprotectiveness. All this time we felt this way and we did nothing. All this time wasted.”

“But we have now.” You whisper. You hook your leg even tighter around him, bringing him flush up against you.

Bucky leans his head into you and places hot kisses into your neck and your shoulder.

“I want you in every way I can take you.”

You groan, pulling back once again to kiss him again.

This kiss is more intense and gains heat quickly.

“Steve said something earlier that perked my interest,” you say between kisses, “He said that he told you to stay away from me?” You let out a moan as he sucks on a spot on your neck that makes you grind against him. “Yes. Remember that one time back before I was married when I cut you off?”

Your eyes squint together in confusion. Suddenly intrigued, you push him away just slightly so you could look at him. “Wait. Steve, told you to cut me off?” “He didn’t want me getting too close to you. Said it was getting inappropriate. I think he was afraid I was going to fall in love with you, or worst, make you fall in love with me. Or at least that’s what Sam said.”

“Wait. Sam?”

“Don’t worry, Sam doesn’t know anything. He just knew I had a crush on you, but little did he know that I was really in love with you.”

Your mind was boggled now as you threw your head back against the pillows.

“Jesus. All this was going on behind the scenes and we knew none of it.”

“I don’t know. I think it says something that all our friends saw something there before we even knew it ourselves.”

“And now they hate us." “They don’t hate us, things are just misunderstood right now. I’ll explain everything to everyone, we both will. And it will be okay again.”

“I hope you’re right. I miss everyone like crazy,” you run your hands up the sides of his face and look at his beautiful features, “But not as much as I missed you.”

Bucky pecks you softly.

“Look, I wanted to tell you. I am so sorry for all those mean things I said to you.” “Bucky-“ “Please. Just listen. I called you the worst things possible, but it’s only because I was so hurt. I don’t really think them of you, I would never in a million years. Especially when I told you that you weren’t capable of love,” you voice slightly cracked and he pecked you again for good measure, “It wasn’t true. You are the best thing I’ve ever loved.”

You feel the small burning in the back of your eyes.

“Bucky….” He shuts you up with a deep kiss. Within seconds he’s got both your legs wrapped around his waist and he’s kissing you hungrily.

Your small fingers go to waistband of his jeans and then he’s helping you by unbuttoning his pants.

“It’s so hard not being able to touch you,” you whimper when you get a chance to pull away from his mouth, “But we can’t. Not until we tell her.”

Wanda is practically skipping down the hall when Nat catches her by her arm. Wanda yelps as Nat yanks on it, causing the perky girl to spin around dramatically in a 360.

“Don’t say that hurt, because I know it didn’t,” Nat says with her hands on her hips, a sly smirk on her lips.

“What do you want, Nat?” Wanda asks shyly.

“I want to know what you know.” Nat narrows her eyes as she walks up to Wanda, like a prey.

Wanda stares up at Nat tauntingly, trying to come off dumb.

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

Nat narrows her eyes at her.

“You know exactly what I’m talking about.”

Wanda quickly looks away and spins around to go back down the hall. Maybe if she just ignored it…

Bucky trusted her.

Nat rolls her eyes.

“Look, I know you know something about Barnes, and I might know something, too. Maybe we could help him.”

Wanda stops in her footsteps at Nat’s words, but she doesn’t fully turn around.

“I know about Y/N, and I might’ve said something to set him to go after her. I know you know something too. Barnes has become a real asshole since Y/N left, but he’s only nice to three other people. Ashlyn, Sam, Me…and you.” Wanda closes her eyes tightly together.

“Nat, please." “Wanda. None of us are on Ashlyn’s side. I’ve been skeptical of her since Bucky’s father was still alive, and I know you can’t stand her either.” Wanda swallowed nervously. Was this a trap?

“What are you suggesting?”

Nat walks up closer to Wanda and continues in a whisper. “I’m thinking we find out what’s going on and we help Bucky. Maybe there’s a reason why Mr. and Mrs. Barnes never had sex on their wedding night. Maybe Bucky is the good guy and Ashlyn isn’t. Maybe its been Y/N all along.”

“And what about Steve?” “I’ll track him down. Something about all of this is just off, Ashlyn is right about that. I knew Steve always had feelings for her, but I know for a fact that Y/N never wanted anything romantic with him. Not unless she felt like she had no choice.”

Wanda narrows her eyes at this, finally interested.

“So what exactly are we doing?” “We’re going to help our friend and get him what he deserves.” Wanda blinked back at the gorgeous redhead.

“Y/N?”

Nat chuckles at Wanda’s answer and simply replies, “Redemption.”

___

@wxntersoldxer16 @void-imaginations @heykarsyn @avashroom @sarcastic-and-cool @lunaticbarnes @benhardygalileo @wildmavs @runaway-escape @stevieboyharrington @kimvmarvel @chipilerendi @hardygal69

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the-mighty-jellybean · 4 years

Text

Till The Final Bullet

Series Summary: “In a place where they won't let us feel, In a place where nothing seems real. I will hold you. In a world that’s moving too fast. In a world where nothing can last. I will hold you.”-Last Night of The World- Miss Saigon

From the age of twelve, Y/N Y/L/N, has been trained by Hydra, and used as an assailant for a number of years. She’s been taught not to feel, but when she’s put in a kill squad with the Winter Solider, their partnership is deadly, as their motivation becomes more than just keeping themselves alive.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Series Warning: Angst, Fluff, Strong Language, Eventual Smut, Dark!Bucky (I think??) (18+ Only)

Part One// Part Two// Part Three// Part Four// Part Five Part Six// Part Seven// Part Eight// Part Nine//

Part Ten:Always You

Chapter Warnings: Violence

Word Count: 3.5k

Steve turned the corner into the parking lot of the Berlin Airport, the car by now, on it’s last legs, coughed and spluttered. Waiting in the lot, was a white van; your heart pounding a little, as memories from a few nights previous, flooded your mind. You looked down, when you felt James stroking his thumb over the back of your hand. Meeting his eyes, he mustered up the most reassuring smile he could.

Steve and Sam got out first, as they did, another man and a woman, stepped out of the white van. You and James clambered out, James holding the seat back, before you stood next to him. You both stayed behind the car, for some kind of protection.

“Cap.” The man acknowledged Steve, walking towards him.

“You know I wouldn’t have called if I had any other choice.” Steve said, shaking the man’s hand.

“Hey man, you’re doing me a favour.” The man reassures Steve, “Besides, I owe a debt.”

“Thanks for having my back.” Steve nodded to the woman, who walked towards the tow of them.

“It was time to get off my ass.” The woman shrugged.

“How about our other recruit?” Steve looked towards the back of the van.

“He’s rarin’ to go,” the man turned away from Steve, reaching for the handle of the sliding door, pulling it back and opening up the back, “might need to put a little coffee in him, but he should be good.”

Once the door clicked loudly into place, it revealed a previously sleeping man, who was abruptly awoken, by the sound of the door opening.

“What time zone is this?” the guy from the backseat asked, as he climbed out.

“Come on.” The man, who had opened the door, pushed the guy towards Steve. The guy looked completely dazed by Steve’s appearance, approaching him with an open mouth, and childlike eyes.

“Captain America!” The guy announced, shaking Steve’s hand.

“Mr Lang.” Steve nodded, his body language was tense, and he seemed uncomfortable with how vigorously Mr Lang, was shaking his hand.

“It’s an honour.” Lang stated, his hand still in Steve’s, “I’m shaking your hand too long.” He finally realises, quickly detaching himself, “wow, this is awesome.” He states, looking around the parking lot, “Captain America. I know you, too. You’re great!” he says to the woman.

“Jeez.” Lang grasped Steve’s shoulders, feeling around his muscles, you and James looked to each, doubt was circling your mind, “ah, look, I wanna say, I know you know a lot of super people, so thanks for thinking of me. Hey, man!” Lang points at Sam, who’s arms had been tightly folded over his chest, for the duration of this interaction.

“What’s up, Tic Tac?” Sam greeted.

“Uh, good to see you,” Lang said a little nervous, “Look what happened last time when I…”

“It was a great audition, but it’ll never happen again.” Sam interrupted, Lang looked slightly beaten down, but nodded.

“They tell you what we’re up against?” Steve interjected, before this awkward exchange could continue.

“Something about some psycho-assassins?” Lang shrugged, and you looked to James once again, raising your eyebrows, James just shook his head, so you leant your elbows onto the roof of the car.

“We’re outside the law on this one. So,if you come with us, you’re a wanted man.” Steve announced all doom and gloom.

“Yeah, well, what else is new?” Lang responded a little darkly.

“We should get moving.” James suggested.

“We got a chopper lined up.” The man with the van, said.

“DAS IST EIN NOTFALL. ALLE PASSAGIERE MÜSSEN DEN FLUGHAFEN SOFORT EVAKUIEREN.” The sound of the speakers from inside the airport, flooded the car lot also.

“They’re evacuating the airport.” You translated, when you noticed some of the bemused faces.

“Stark.” Sam spoke, turning towards the other teammates.

“Suit up.” Steve instructed everyone.

You grabbed your combat gear from the trunk, James doing the same. You’d picked a few things up on your 17hr road trip here.

“Ready?” James asked you, shielding you from the view of the others, as you changed into your suit.

“Not really, you?” you looked at James, and he had a sad smile on his face, as he shook his head.

“No, but we’re gonna be okay. Whatever happens, we look out for each other.” James confirmed, once you had secured your final knife.

“What about Steve?” you whispered, nodding your head in the direction of the blonde supersoldier. James surprised you when he shook his head.

“If I have to choose between you or him, I will always pick you.” Your heart flutters at James words; to hear him say that he’d pick you, without a second thought, makes you fall in love with him, a little bit more.

~~~

“Wait here, I’ll approach first, then on my signal, initiate the plan.” Steve instructed you all.

You all took to your positions: you, James and Sam went to the airport, Wanda and Clint to another carpark complex. Scott turned small, which freaked all of you out a little at first; especially Sam, who seemed to be slightly shifty. The now miniscule man took his position on Steve’s shield.

All of you waited in your positions waiting for Steve to give the signal to advance.

Sam and James were on the other side of the airport, using Red-Wing to scout the hangers for your getaway aircraft. You were opposite them, facing the tarmac, that was slowly gaining a crowd. You turned briefly to check on James; Sam appeared to be shifting slightly uncomfortably, away from James.

“What’s your problem, birdy?” you sighed, fixing your knives.

“Nothing, just not overly keen on being around two highly unstable people.” He huffed, moving further away from James. You looked at James, and rolled your eyes, and then looked back to the tarmac, where Steve was talking to the metal man from Romania, and the another one who had fought with James when you were escaping. That one was Stark, the other one was called Rhodey, Steve had given you and James the rundown on who everyone was, before dispatching the team.

“You know Sam, there’s one thing you should probably never say to, two highly unstable people…” you mutter.

“And what’s that?” he sassed.

“That they’re highly unstable. It tends to hurt our feelings.” You shot back at Sam.

“Aww did I hurt your feelings, want me to say sorry?” Sam fake pouted at you, and you just narrowed your eyes.

“No what I would like, is you to be…” you trialled off when the black cat from Romania, flipped into the tarmac, he was Prince T’Challa, his father had been killed in the bombing by the doctor, that was why he was so angry with James, as he still believed it was him that was behind the explosion.

“Can you two just knock it off.” James spoke, looking between you two. You just sighed heavily once again, and looked back at the group of men, Sam looking down at his little screen, which was connected to Red-Wing’s camera.

The group of men, had grown, but now it wasn’t just men, a one woman, the redhead, stood facing Steve. Natasha Romanoff.

Apparently, you and James had, had some dealing with her in the past, but you couldn’t recall. If you were honest, you and James had tried hard to repress your memories of HYDRA, some of them physically hurt, when you thought too hard about them.

Suddenly there was a flash of blue and red, as something summersaulted it’s way into view, landing on the roof of a abandoned truck. This one hadn’t been expected, you weren’t sure of a name for this one, but he took Steve’s shield, using some kind of plasm.

“We found it. The quinjets in hanger five. North runway” Sam confirmed to Steve through coms.

Steve lifted his arms into the air, and whatever had secured his wrists shut, was ripped off, by one of Clint’s arrows.

“Alright, Lang.” Steve signalled to the Antman. Suddenly the thing that was holding Steve’s shield was knocked over backwards. Lang passed Steve his shield back.

“We need to go.” You shouted, and both the men and yourself, jumped up and began sprinting towards the hangar.

Whilst you were running, the sound of a soft thud on the windows of the airport, had all three of you looking up towards the sky.

“What the hell is that?” James asked.

“Everyone’s got a gimmick now.” Sam mumbled, speeding his pace up.

There was a brief moment, when there was a sound of shattering glass, before Sam is knocked sideways, and goes tumbling to the floor. You dive behind a large notice board, taking cover, waiting for the right time to attack.

James and the foreign alien looking thing, engage fists. He stops one of James’ punches holding it in his grip.

“You have a metal arm, that is awesome.” A youthful voice, spoke from under the mask. James seemed slightly confused by this comment, and momentarily froze. You took this as an opportunity, with the boy distracted by James’ arm, you tackle him, throwing him upwards into the air, Sam catching him mid-flight, and dragging him with him. He wriggled free of Sam’s grip, and shot another weird plasma string from his wrists flinging himself through the air.

The boy swung from beam to beam, Sam weaving out of his way.

“Jay, throw this.” You kicked the board you had been hiding behind previously, knocking it over, and snapping it from its support system underneath. James used his metal arm, to grab hold of it, and flinging it towards the boy.

He ducks just in time, you and James growling in frustration. James grabbed you by the waist, pulling you behind another pillar.

“Hey buddy, I think you lost this.” James leans out, but you pull him to the floor, just as the noticeboard comes flying back towards you.

A loud crash in front of you, has you looking back towards Sam, he was grounded, wobbling onto his feet. He didn’t have time to engage, with the boy, before he was stuck to the railing.

“Those wings, carbon-fibre?” The boy asked, once he had stopped on one of the walls.

“This stuff coming out of you?” Sam questioned, his face disgusted as he looked between his hands.

“I would explain the rigid flexibility ratio, which gotta say, that’s awesome.” The boy rambles, Sam growing increasingly bored.

“I don’t know if you’re been in a fight before, but there usually isn’t this much talking.” Sam spat.

“Alright sorry my bad.” He launched himself from the wall, but before his feet could engage into Sam, James leapt in front of Sam. James and Sam go crashing through the railings, landing hard on the floor below.

The boy shoots another white net, and it traps Sam and James to the floor.

“Look I’d love to keep this up, but I’ve only got one job here today and I got to impress Mr Stark, so I’m really sorry.” Before he can speak, you shoot your grapping hook around the boy’s wrist attaching it to Red-Wing, as he zoomed passed you, clearing being controlled by Sam.

The boy goes hurtling out the window screaming and yelling, as he is flung around, you go to where the two of them had smashed through the railing, looking over the side, you fold your arms, and jut your hip out.

“You couldn’t have done that earlier?” you chided Sam, jumping down to meet them.

“I hate you.” Sam huffed.

You began cutting James’ arm loose, the weird material strapping his arm to the floor, was like spider web. Cutting him loose, you toyed with the idea of not letting Sam free, as you twiddle your knife in your fingers, while you stood over him.

“Yo let me out.” He yelled, fighting harder against the webbing.

“Let him out, doll.” James told you, picking himself up from the floor, brushing himself off.

“Do I have to?” you sighed, giving James puppy dog eyes.

“Yes, now come on, Steve needs us.” You grumble to yourself at James’ words, but bend down and start cutting the web off of Sam.

Running through the airport, squinting slightly once you move through the doors, the sun shining in your eyes, blinding you shortly.

“Come on!” Steve waves at the three of you, sprinting you join him on the tarmac. You’re heading towards the other group, but halt when a beam of light appears in front of you, scorching the ground below.

“Captain Rogers.” A voice from the sky boomed down, you peek up at the bright sky to see a man hovering in the air. This must be the Vision, “I know you believe what you are doing is right, but for the collective good, you must surrender now.”

Emerging into a line, other side copy your stance, all of you squaring off.

“What do we do, Cap?” Sam whispered, down the line.

“We fight.”

Steve begins to stride towards them, everyone else following his lead. Steve picks up the pace, everyone else jogging behind him, before it turns into a full sprint.

Eventually you meet in a collision of noise.

You and James take on T’Challa. James gets kicked to the ground, so you take that as an opportunity to strike him in the chest, sending him flying across the lot. Claws digging into the concrete to slow him down.

Both of you re-engage, James back on his feet, moves to help you. Soon you are working together throwing punches and kicks in every direction, you pull your knife out, swinging it, in every direction.

T’Challa knocks it from your hand, it skids across the concrete, you watch it skim along the surface, but you should have been watching your opponent, as he strikes you in the temple. You back flip onto the ground, pushing yourself up and growling, James taking your place, and punches T’Challa to the ground, but he uses his arms to break his fall, levering himself up.

You look over to Clint and Natasha, who are fighting one another, you notice Clint is holding back whenever he moves to strike. You run over, and just before she can land a kick to his head, you tackle her to the ground, raining down a few punches. Pushing you off you both stand, she makes a run at you, but you catch the punch she tries to throw, using it as leeway, you swing her around and volt her into the air, sending her crashing into a nearby cargo hold.

You turn to Clint, who is panting and staring wide eyed at you.

“You were pulling your punches.” You shrug before running back to James and T’Challa.

“I didn’t kill your father.” James chocked out, when T’Challa had his grip around his throat.

“Then why did you run?” T’Challa rasped.

James doesn’t have time to answer, before the two are engaging in another one of one combat, rolling each other onto the floor. T’Challa kicks James into a van, leaving him slightly dazed. You see T’Challa flex his claws, and use this as your time to act, before he can plunge his sharpened metal into James’ chest, you grip hold of T’Challa’s hands.

Using your supersoldier strength, you pick T’Challa up, and throw him away, like he’s as light as a baseball, he crashes through one of the boarding tunnels.

Turning back to James, you crouch in front of him.

“You okay?” you caress his cheek, and he nods, still a little puffed.

“I’m good.” He takes the hand that you hold out to him, and you pull him up, before heading towards cover. It just so happens the place you use to cover is the same as Steve’s.

“We’ve got to go.” James says to Steve, “That guy is probably in Siberia by now.”

“We’ve got to draw out the flyers.” Steve said, following Rhodey and Stark with his gaze, “I’ll take Vision, you two get to the jet.”

“No, you get to the jet,” Sam’s voice breaks through of the coms, “the three of you. The rest of us aren’t getting out of here.”

“As much as I hate to admit it,” Clint’s voice jumps on the coms, “if we’re gonna win this one, some of us might have to lose it.”

“This isn’t the real fight, Steve.” Sam spurs on.

“Alright Sam, what’s the plan?” Steve asked, looking to you and James. You looked at each other, and you felt James squeeze your hand.

“We need a diversion, something big.” Sam told you.

“I got something kind of big, but I can’t hold it very long.” Scot tells you all, “On my signal, run like hell and if I tear myself in half, don’t come back for me.

You look at James, “he’s going to tear himself in half?” you look at Steve, who also has a face of disbelief.

“You sure about this Scot?” Steve asked through coms.

“I do it all the time…I mean once…in a lab…then I passed out.” You weren’t reassured by Scot’s plan.

However, you have no time to question it, soon Antman is no longer…well…Antman, he’s big man…very big man. Using his size, he easily plucks Rhodey out of the air, and throws him through the air, like a ragdoll.

“I guess that’s the signal.” Steve says, three of you, breaking into a sprint, heading straight for hangar five. You nearly make it, before one of the air-control towers, begins to collapse, it was heading towards blocking your way.

A red entity stretched across the bottom of it, you look over your shoulder to see Wanda holding the building together. For her sake, the three of you speed up.

Just before you reach it, Wanda’s control has gone, and the tower begins to crash down, you and the boys leap onto the floor, diving underneath it, just in time.

You stop once inside the hangar, as you come face to face, with Natasha.

“You’re not going to stop.” She says.

“You know I can’t.” Steve shakes his head.

“Move out of our way.” You yell, you step forward, shortening the gap between you and her.

“Don’t make me do this?” she says to you, holding her wrists up, but you scoff.

“Do what, I’m going to enjoy this.” You sprint towards her, she does the same, the two of you meeting in the middle, hurling your fists at each other. You land a punch, but so does she.

You catch the next one she tries, flipping her over your back, so she lands heavily on the floor, groaning. Once she laid on the floor, you were able to climb on top of her, but she rolls you, so she is on top. She tries to strike you in the face, but once again you hold her fist, watching her right in the eye, you slowly crush her fist in your grasp, the sound of bones grinding and cracking filling the air.

Natasha screams in displeasure and uses her head to knock you square in the forehead, it doesn’t have the desired effect that she wanted, instead it makes her a little dizzier, giving you time to flip your position. This time she is kneeling, and you have her in a tight headlock, she gasps and pulls at you. Using her wrists, she sends an electric shock up your arms, and it radiates around your skull, crying out, you let her go. Only to grab around her waist, and lift her over your head, so she goes sprawling onto the floor. Laying on her stomach, you grasp her hair, and slam her head into the concrete, knocking her clean out.

Breathing heavily, you look up to the proud smile of James and the look of deep disapproval from Steve. You look at Steve and shrug.

“What, you wanted the jet, I got you the jet.” You roll your eyes, but they snap back to normal mid-roll, when you noticed something black, moving amongst the rubble.

“Look out!” you shout, the men run towards you, glancing over their shoulder at the sight of T’Challa pulling his way through the debris, advancing towards you, “get to the jet!”

You throw your other knife at T’Challa, and he catches it mid-air, deciding that you aren’t going to try and fight this guy, you run after the two men. You jump into the jet, but almost slip from the hold, when a hand grabs your foot.

“Jay!” you yell, as you claw at the deck of the jet. James comes running over to you, kicking T’Challa in the face, and he lets go of your leg, James pulls you in, falling onto the floor in the process, pulling you into his lap, and holding you close.

The sound of the engines whirring into action, floods your body with relief, and you hold James tighter, as you climbed into the air.

A/N: Nearly finished Civil War; I’m debating whether to continue the series into Infinity War and Endgame, and instead, do the final chapter of Bucky and the Reader in Wakanda. That could leave me with some viable options, possibly a mini-pregnancy-series???? What do you guys think?

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luana-writes · 3 years

Text

chapter one

THERE WERE TWO UNSPOKEN rules Arlence Academy's fourth years abided by when dusk settled, wands cooled down and school hallways closed. Everything went, even if it usually didn't. And you never saw anything, even if you were sure you did.

Those rules did not apply to Sage.

A cool night breeze rushed past the center courtyard's trees, their leaves in orange to dark red tones twirling over the fences caging them away from the surrounding school corridors. Their edges were frayed and delicate. The type that cracked away from the rest of its body and crumbled with the slight push from Sage's shoe in an effort to clear the hallway path. Each crunch under her weight made the beat in her heart pound harder, echoing over and over again in her ears, but she kept her gaze focused. She couldn't afford to get caught today, not on her last run before winter break. She snuck past the corner, into a smaller hallway then another, turning right, left, moving past the staircase...

The girl hummed lowly to herself, dark eyes brushing past the clock hanging over the 3rd archway in her path. Its longest handle inched slightly closer to timepeace's top. 10 minutes until new guard rotations.

It'd leave ample time for her to find Auri's book and return the old one. She held the 800 page monstrosity before her as she walked, running her hand along its plain cover. "From Mana to Magic: The Art of Application '' was a supposedly complex magical theory study. The kind so long that it made her headache just at the thought of needing to remember, the strange tang of bile rising to her throat with every lingering glance at its dense page block. She turned it over to read the back. Auri liked those kinds of long, drawn out books for whatever reason. Sage herself wasn't entirely sure. The materials weren't relevant to classes, or anything incredibly new. Just regurgitated research. The same spiel on how, magic was the application of an inner spiritual force into the physical. Or how mana, the spiritual force in question, supposedly resided in all earthly elements. Emphasis on the "supposedly" part in Sage's case. Studies of that sort had never been interesting, and no matter how little personal interactions Sage had with the girl, she knew Auri wasn't reading them for fun. She didn't do fun in the first place. Just sitting in her room all-day, frowning, grunting lowly at things or spouting out orders.

Like that earlier morning, when Auri shoved the book into Sage's hands upon leaving her room. Hands that'd been holding a freshly brewed cup of dormitory cocoa milk. "Return it. I need Rituals in Magic." She'd pushed her golden spectacles over her straight, tan nose before walking off, leaving Sage standing in the hallway with a three pound packet of pages. And milk all over her uniform skirt. She smelled of cocoa beans for the rest of the day, and the worst part was that all she could do was politely smile and laugh about her "little accident". Accident her blotchy, brown-stained boot.

She raised her head from the book between her hands. The Main Library's doors were imported from some distant faraway Kingdom she wouldn't even dare try to remember, carved by renowned sculptor Elin Garnas. He was said to have spent 74 days and 75 nights bringing to life the essence of their school emblem; The Dragon. Vines wrapped around each door's frame slowly closing into the middle, encircling the mythical creature. Its mouth was held open, tongue halfway out ready to breathe fire and cause devastation to everything in his path. Dark, beady eyes casted downward, as if he were focused on his snout. Though it didn't really feel that way.

"Don't look at me like that," The girl muttered lowly as she pulled an extra pin out of her tightly coiled hair. She stuck it into the lock, twisting to the right until she heard a loud click. The door to the library opened slightly ajar.

Her eyebrows drew together the second she stepped in, the strong scent of paper invading her nostrils. She hated the smell of books, distant reminders of her childhood, simultaneously too long and too short. Yet despite it, it was where she spent the most of her time.

Sage ran her hand along shelves as she reached the center of the room, plopping the heavy book onto the librarian's desk. A small layer of dust lifted along with it causing her to scrunch her nose. She slid the volume to the other end of the table, well aware of the occasional shuffling noises outside the biggest window. She wasn't the only fourth year who profited from the 10 minute break between teacher shifts to break rules. Just to use it to trespass into old, boring libraries instead of play pranks or games with friends.

And she was completely fine with being in her own corner, really. Because unlike the rest, getting caught by classmates wouldn't end with a simple wry smile and shushing motion in the dead of night. No, it'd crumble the entire reputation she worked so hard to build. Careful years of planning, hard-work and an unsupportable amount of sucking up.

Sage hid the book under the return pile, raising to see the overhead clock. 7 more minutes. She had enough time to get Rituals in Magic, then dip out before more students passed by. There were the usual rebellious wall-artists, romantic couples, gossipers, pranksters.... or, sometimes him. The bastard with freakishly strong senses who plagued her during the day, and at night wooshed past that same window exactly 2 minutes before teachers returned to their posts. Who's eyes always lingered on her for a little too long when she lied, followed after her whenever she tried to sneak away, somehow always found her before she found him. He was the man who kept her from reaching the topmost spot in Arlence Academy. The one she deserved.

Her feet treaded up the grand staircase leading to the second storey, the area for final years. Her favorite. Though Sage hated the smell of books, she couldn't say the same for their contents. Volumes packed to the brim with information taught her everything she knew. From the art of paint, to swimming to more obscure skills such as, uh, lock picking. Her mind flashed back to brief memories of pouring over manuals in the dead of the night with only a dim oil lamp to illuminate their words. Piles of paper. Pens without ink. Bloodied needle pins. Red-stained napkins.

She stopped, almost bumping into a cartful of books. She didn't notice at first, but they littered the corridors of shelves. She picked up one that fell, narrowing her eyes. The title read something along the lines of "History of the Continent". Finals ended last week so an influx of returns wasn't uncommon but they were usually all sorted over during the weekend. She checked the shelves, the book still in hand. Wait. She was in the Economics and Trade area of the library, not history. Her eyes scoured the floor, a curse escaping from her lips.

"Smokes," she put it back into the cart. Everything was a mess. She wouldn't be able to find Auri's book. The heavy heartbeat returned as she hurried to the Magic Theory section, her worse thoughts confirmed. Even more carts were shuffled in this corner of the library, a few lining the staircase to the third storey -- restricted to teachers. At least a minute had passed since she saw the clock, meaning she only had 6 left.

Sage's heart pounded in her chest as she shuffled through piles, ignoring the small cut lining her index from a particularly sharp paperback. Everything would be over if she messed up. Auri would tell her father. The Duke would get her taken out of Arlence. She'd be without credentials. A drop-out. The beat got stronger the more seconds passed, drowning out the occasional sounds of grouped fourth years giggling as they broke curfew rules outside the window. She shifted easily past those she recalled reading, that being nearly all of them. Rituals in Magic had to be amongst them. It was one of the few books she read out of pure interest about a month back. Not because it was for a class, or skill she needed to beat everyone else in. Just because it was there. And fun.

She reached the bottom of the third cart, all books she knew she read save for one. "Runes in Magic." She turned it over. This one, at the very least, with an r and ended the same way her target did. It would be close enough. It had to be. Spending too much time searching would get her caught. By him, or the teachers. Her hands shook as she put it aside, placing all other books back. Auri always needed to get exactly what she asked for. And Sage had never disappointed before, no matter how difficult the task was. Until now.

She picked up the book, putting the cart back in its place next to the staircase. She hastened to the other end of the shelf. She just had to leave and.. God she forgot. Lekha would need a book from the romance section too. Sage dashed past the shelves, ready to turn the corner then stopped. She retracted her steps. Right at the end of the shelf, stacked neatly as if it were always there sat Rituals In Magic. Maybe it was because it was always there. The girl stood planted. Rituals In Magic was a personal read for her back then. It had nothing to do with school material, or the finals. No one had touched it. She barely had the time to register her stupidity. Or the shame from almost messing it all up. From forgetting to remember. Again.

Books held close to her chest, she rushed to the bottom of the grand staircase. Sage's head swiveled to the clock, indicating 3 minutes left then to the romance section. Auri didn't like frilly literature, but her sister did. And Lekha always needed to be brought back something.

She combed through titles, the kinds with covers that'd make even battle-torn mercenaries blush, her back against the main window. Lekha was the adventurous type. She didn't care for simple princes. Give her servant girls whisked away by rugged princesses instead, loner mages, gentle assassins, battle-torn warriors... half-wolf men. No matter how hard she tried to forget the horror of that one.

Sage's eye wandered to the clock and she cursed under her breath. She had two minutes left until teachers were due, but about 3 seconds until him. The man who always flew by the window at the exact same time. There wasn't a moment to waste as she dropped the books, immediately rushing to slide behind a bookcase knowing full well it would offer little protection against his ability. Forget getting the wrong book, being caught and exposed by him would truly ruin her. Not only would she become an outcast once more but she would need to leave Arlence. And let him win once-and-for-all.

If he found her she'd kill him. She decided. Then what? She didn't have her sword with her. Her mind combed through plans at an unimaginable rate. He wasn't the type to give into bribery. No, the greatest present one could give him would be the sight of their life crumbling before his eyes as they descended into madness and failure, to never see the light of day again. She paused. That wasn't fully right either. No, he seemed more like a type who took pleasure in getting those results himself instead of handed to him. He'd frown. Not from pity or realizing the gravity of his actions, but dissatisfaction. Dissatisfaction that he didn't contribute to mankind's descent to depravity. Her rapidly escalating thoughts were interrupted by a red flash from the window. The manifestation of nearly neon, vivid energy. Such a colour that only he could possess.

Then nothing else.

The girl raised her head, basically pounding from stress. Sage peeked from the shelf, gripping the sharp pin in her uniform pocket. Just in case. No one was there. He passed just like that. A look of puzzlement crossed her face as she stepped out fully. He was more than strong enough to sense her presence. But didn't.

This only meant one thing. Sage looked above and nodded her head in reverence. The Heavens took pity on her. And she wouldn't be dumb enough to let such a sacred opportunity pass.

She swiped the books dropped before the big window, then a short series about some runaway princess and her royal guard for Lekha, then booked it out of the library.

Her low-heels clicked against the hallway, this time ignoring the leaves littering its floors. She ducked under the staircase, praying there weren't any Fourth Years loitering in the passage. Sage avoided the secret ways around the school during her nights out like this because they were too commonly used. But the Sky seemed to have taken pity on her again, for they were empty. She wouldn't have to risk running into teachers entering patrol tonight.

Arlence Academy's secret passages dug under the school, connecting the main building with outbuildings and dormitories in a complicated labyrinth. It took her 2 years to remember them properly, and even now she was only familiar with the route to her own dorm and the training area. Usually she'd do a little detour to the swordsmens' building. Check up on her baby, Pheni, maybe organize a few other weapons to take a step back from the whole "serving Auri and Lekha" thing she had going on. Key word being usually. Tonight, her route was straight for her dorm. She couldn't waste a single other second outside her room.

The heavy humid air got lighter as she reached the dorm building, rushing up steps as quickly as possible. Her feet lightened too as she reached the trap door. Sage paused, listening for anyone above. There was occasional noise from other bedrooms, but otherwise nothing major. Not that anyone would care to check if she made any noise anyways. She took a big breath of fresh air as she pushed the door open, placing the stack of books onto the floor first before hoisting herself up with the help of a small pile of stones stacked one on top of the other. She pushed it close behind her.

The rest was basically a blur. She dropped off "Rituals In Magic" on the corner of Auri's door frame then shuffled her feet up the stairs. The steps to the top floor were winding, and creaked whenever someone walked up the left side instead of the right. The other extreme was lined with windows, who's view she practically memorized. It showcased the main building in all its wondrous splendour, built exactly how one would imagine an old castle despite not having reached a century of education yet. Towers littered each corner but the highest of them all was the only one situated in the middle of the school. Middle back to be more precise, between North and West. They nicknamed it Esoteric; the only magic tower that no student had ever entered before. Graduating classes took their final magic examination inside once a year, then left. No one ever spoke of what happened in that tower, or wanted to, which is exactly what made it catch Sage's attention more than ever.

She reached the top, a weird sense of relief invading her body at the warm sight of her bedroom door. Just a few steps away. She was almost there.

The door right next to Sage suddenly swung open, bathing the dark hall with light. Or not.

"Sage." Lekha spoke. Auri's twin sister looked vastly different from her, despite sharing the same face. For once her hair was longer, down to the small of her back. There was a small ring in her nose, and her thin lips were never without at least a tint of rouge. Same for her cheeks and neck always adjourned in jewels. Even in the dead of night, when she was supposed to sleep. The golden bangles along her wrist clinked together as leaned against her door frame. "Young Miss Nochad," Sage smiled, focusing on the girl's face in a desperate attempt to ignore a reflective diamond threatening to permanently blind her, "I went to catch some stuff for Auri and thought of you, I found a few novels."

Her eyes sparkled slightly, a smile forming at her lips, "Goodness, you didn't need to do that."

She did.

"Hand them over," She reached over to grab the books from Sage, practically snatching the entire stack from her hands. A long nail scratched against the back of the girl's palm, but she was too numb with adrenaline to even feel pain. Nevertheless, do something about it.

Sage tucked the hand behind her back instead as Lekha shuffled through 3 books. "Father will hate this." She turned the book over to look at its scandalous cover, "This'll do perfect for the break month."

"Glad you enjoy it-"

"But, I don't need this." She pulled the last book in the stack out, giving it back to Sage. The girl's lip twitched. "Runes in Magic." She'd brought that damned book back too in her rush to escape. "Ah, that must be for your sister, my mistake. I was in a bit of a rush"

"You do look quite disheveled." She replied, though she looked a lot more preoccupied with the scandalous cover in her hands than Sage's appearance, "You're really one of the good ones. No mana but not useless. Still so helpful and trustworthy."

Sage smiled tightly, but didn't answer.

"Don't forget to have some sleep."

"Of course," She kept the smile, nodding her head in reverence, "Please sleep well, Miss. Nochad."

"You too." The door shut, plunging the corridor back into the darkness. Sage contained the sigh on her lips until she fiddled open her front door handle. She closed it behind her, leaning her back against the door. Finally, she was done.

No, almost. She still had to endure tomorrow. They'd announce the leaderboard results from the finals, then everyone would get packing and leave. Leave her alone in the dormitory for the next month whilst they celebrated the winter break with family. Sage tossed the book onto her desk, stacked with scrunched up papers and capless pens. A few notes littered the surface too, papers that fell off the huge board lined over her desk full of nothing but tiny notes. They listed small useless pieces of information and dates. Reminders.

She was 90% sure something clanked somewhere amongst the mess, but she was too tired to care. She placed her shoes under the table, picking up a paper that fell from her wall along with it. Her eyes widened as she read the note. Right, she had forgotten. The girl had plans to borrow a few more books from the library this week. She changed her clothing, pulling out a hair pick and scarf. Lekha had already started to order dresses for the Finals Ball despite it being months away, meaning Sage had to brush up on her dressmaking skills. Something she hadn't touched since she was 10. Or 8. Or 13, she really couldn't remember. Either way, it was best to be prepped for anything. Whether it be fixing a seam, button pulled out of anger or making an entirely new garment last minute. She had to prove herself useful. She paused, reciting it to herself a few more items. Yeah, that was it.

The girl stepped closer to her window as she wrapped up her hair. It provided a perfect view of the outbuildings. Properties that littered her little corner of campus, housing specialized hobbies that wouldn't fit into the core magic classes of the main building. The biggest and farthest amongst them all was the sword building, her beautiful sword, Pheni's home. And hers too for the next 4 weeks when everyone would be away. She couldn't wait.

Sage narrowed her eyes. There was something entering the swords building. A faint blob of almost neon red. It was unmistakably, well him, but something was off. His friends weren't with him. He was alone. Which was weird. He was weird. There wasn't much she could see clearly considering he was hundreds of feet away, but the unmistakable blond dreads that contrasted with his skin a few shades darker than hers were still very much there. Overflowing spiritual energy and all that... as far as she could tell he didn't look weird physically. At all. But still, something ticked at the back of her mind. He entered the building and Sage shook her head as if to ignore her thoughts. She was tired. She just needed to go to sleep.

She didn't.

A few seconds later a boom echoed into the night. She jumped back, her hair scarf falling onto her shoulders. A bright red light faded into nothingness as quickly as it appeared, but its effects didn't. She rubbed her eyes, unable to believe the sight before her. Right on the far-end of the Campus, there was a hole in the earth.

Goodness. The bastard put a damned hole in the earth.

A/N ⭲ This chapter is so unbelievably long, probably the longest I've ever written in my life but we have yet to see if nearly 4k word chapters be a usually occurence or not. On the other hand, something I've just discovered came with the whole "magic academy" writing thing is that I can make the uniforms be whatever I want. And when I tell you guys I have the most genius, cutest ensemble ideas I mean it. Only issue is that I can't draw to save my life, and don't know any apps where they do it for me. If anyone's interested I might put together a pinterest moodboard or smth, then post the aesthetics on my tumblr spam. We'll see. Until then, I'll see you next chapter! Let me know your predictions x.

word count: 3.5k (3588)

date: 2021-07-20

PREVIOUS ↤ TABLE OF CONTENTS ↦ SUBSEQUENT

#writeblr #fantasy #ya #romance #original story #luanawrites #thecontractess

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albapuella · 4 years

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Breaking Point

AO3 Link

Fandom: Hiveswap Characters: Xefros Tags: Minor Spoilers for Act 1, Angst, Second Person POV Summary: “It is foolish of you to keep hoping. You know what the future holds for you.” or Xefros comes to grips with certain realities about his future. Notes: I posted this originally in January, and seeing as Hiveswap Act 2 is coming for us soon, I thought it might be worth bringing this one out again in a new post. Enjoy!

You are Xefros Tritoh, and the realization that you will never make it to the big leagues isn't something which comes to you all at once. Rather, it has been a series of smaller understandings which have finally combined together into a hot, frothing boil. The tryouts for the Thrashthrust Junior League are coming up, and you know that your Arena Stickball game is getting rusty. Between band practice with Tetrarch Dammek, revolutionary lectures with Tetrarch Dammek, and butling practice (mostly for Tetrarch Dammek), you don't have much time for anything else.

Time isn't the only problem, of course, or even the main one. Your powers of telekinesis are pitiful, too—the only thing saving you out on the field currently is your, admittedly, impressive physical strength, but you can't depend on that forever. The best Pushers don't rely on pure brute strength like you do. How can you ever hope to reach the level of your hero, Xultan Matzos, without the mental powers to match?

You can't, and it is foolish of you to keep hoping.

Besides, you know what the future holds for you.

The butler's uniform you'd ordered sweeps ago has finally arrived. You pull it out of the box, a sick feeling of finality settling in your acid tubes as you stare down at the glossy black material. These are the nicest clothes you own now. They are certainly the most expensive you own—they'd cost even more than the Arena Stickball gear you'd purchased.

You notice suddenly that you are holding the uniform too tightly, the fabric straining beneath your claws, and you loosen your grip to check the garment for damage. Luckily for you, you've only left wrinkles and not rips. You hate the sense of relief you'd felt, and you throw the uniform back into the box with a curse that would have made Dammek proud.

Hands clenching into tight fists, your ganderbulbs cast about your respite block, landing on your waregrid study scroll, and a low growl leaves your chug tube. You step towards it before stopping, shaking your head. No. No. The study scroll isn't the most expensive thing you've had to purchase to study for your assigned career, but it's expensive enough to be painful to replace. You've had this same conversation with yourself in the past, when you've had idle fantasies of taking your cuebat to the lot of your butling materials, but you've never felt this close to actually going through with it before.

You need to calm down before you do anything you'll wish you could take back, and you know just where to go.

Except, in your current mood, the Arena Stickball theme of your rumpus room is just another slap in the face: another reminder of what you can never have. There just isn't enough time, and you aren't good enough anyway. Even if you suddenly had all the time on Alternia, you'd still never be good enough. Here you are, standing in the middle of your rumpus room, about to bawl like a wiggler because you've finally been forced to face facts.

You want to call your moirail. More than anything. You need him here to keep you from falling apart. But you already know what the Tetrarch thinks of Arena Stickball—it's just a dumb game, a waste of time. And coming over to your hive to comfort you about not ever being good enough to reach the heights of your athletic fantasies out in the field would be an even greater waste of time. He has much more important work to be doing—for the band, for the rebellion, for whatever else—, and the worst part is you know it's true: he does have more important things to do than coddle you about Arena Stickball.

Even if you call him and he does come, what good will it do? There isn't anything to be done: there just isn't time to devote to Arena Stickball to remain competitive, and your telekinetic powers aren't good enough for it anyway. You're destined to be a gutterblood nobody butler no one is ever going to remember. Worthless.

You hear a faint rattling from your Bobblenug figure collection, and you turn your head towards them, realizing you'd lost control of your telekinesis. For another burgundy blood, losing control of their telekinesis could be dangerous, but for you? You have barely the impact of a gentle breeze. The figures rattle again, their heads nodding in agreement. Your lip curls over your fangs, and you're not smiling. Your claws are buried into your palms—if not for the thick callouses there, you're certain you would be bleeding by now. Your physical strength is, as mentioned previously, impressive. About the only impressive thing about you.

The Bobblenugs nod again, passing their rattling judgment on you. And they would know, being the best players who'd ever stepped onto the velvet, just how lacking you are. Just how much of an idiot you are to ever have believed you could have joined their ranks.

You don't even remember grabbing the cuebat, but it's in your hands, and you're bringing it down on the collection of nodding heads. You only swing three times, but your cuebat packs a wallop when wielded by you (even if it's not chalked up first), and the damage is done. Little bits of plastic trolls litter the floor along with large parts of a broken shelving unit.

You wedge the cuebat back into its stand, a little too roughly, but you're in a daze now. Your anger is spent, leaving nothing but emptiness behind. The splaysack is inviting, and you sink onto it, the proximal comfort of the soper enveloping you. Time passes and you don't notice. You don't think. You just stare ahead of you. When you finally come back to yourself, hours have passed.

The casualties are many. You recognize them all as you clean up the mess. Each player you look up to, each treasure you added to your collection over the sweeps. You're not looking through the mess for anything salvageable as you pick up the remains—you don't want confirmation. What you see already is enough to upset you.

However, when all is said and done, one is missing. You know you haven't picked it up yet: while you weren't looking for it, you were looking for it and hadn't seen it. You're about to give up when you notice light play off of something under the Table Arena Stickball. Bending down, you reach for the object, your blood pusher working hard in your chest.

Xultan Matzos grins up at you, proud and determined. You laugh, feeling tears in your ganderbulbs. Of course, it'd take more than a few swings with a cuebat to take him out. You feel almost foolish, how glad you are that he's in one piece. Gingerly, you set him on the TV stand along with the other survivor, Dromed Baktar. You'll have to rebuild the shelf so they can return to their proper places, but you're still feeling worn out. Tomorrow, you'll take care of this.

As for the rest... You feel Xultan Matzos behind your shoulder, believing in you. FIN Notes: CUEBAT + BOBBLENUGS "Yeah, you've, uh, gone down that road before. You used to have a lot more of these."

#Hiveswap #homestuck #Xefros #fan fic #mine

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inquartata30 · 4 years

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WIP Whenever Yet Again

tagged by @natsora so you know where the fault lies

tagging @fogsblue @joufancyhuh and @joking611 no obligations

Thaia had only been out of the bedroom for forty seconds. Forty. Forty seconds before the hiss of an object slicing through the air, a crack of impact, multiple thuds too light to be her children hitting the floor, a second of silence, and then:

“Uh-oh.”

More silence.

Thaia had just opened the pantry door in her hunt for a dinner idea. Rubbing the grit of exhaustion from her eyes—or trying to—Thaia looked over at her dad.

Sula, relaxing on the sofa with Aella in her arms, returned the look. “What you need to ask yourself right now is: do you really want to know?”

Thaia closed the pantry door. More chatter floated into the living room.

“Sucks to be you,” said Zahra.

“You were the one who spun her around,” said Anahera.

“She was the one who didn’t let go right away!”

“Personally, I would more than consider it,” Dr. Aridana said, sitting in an armchair and craning her neck to see down the hall.

Thaia briefly threw her hands in the air and went back to her bedroom.

They’d been fighting over Lexi’s pillow again, like they had every day for the past two days their truce over sharing it having lasted for a surprising total of four weeks. Anahera was sitting at the head of the bed and glaring at Zahra. There was a datapad testing on Thaia’s pillow next to her, and an empty space on her other side, where Lexi’s pillow was supposed to be. Carian stood at the far end of the room, near the closet, a hand covering her mouth and tears welled up in her eyes. On the opposite side of the room was Zahra, positioned directly in front of the right set of bookshelves, chin raised and defiant as fuck, Lexi’s pillow clutched tight against her chest. Someone was certainly pleased with her victory.

It wasn’t immediately apparent what had gone wrong, and none of them ventured an explanation of any sort.

For fuck’s sake.

“Is anyone hurt?” No one appeared to be, but she had to ask.

They all shook their heads.

Which didn’t guarantee they were free from injury. There’d been the incident when Anahera had gone two days without saying a fucking word about having whacked her forearm against a planter when she’d tripped and fell while running through a neighbor’s garden. Not until her arm’s mobility was limited did she say something, but made it absolutely clear she was still annoyed that her body hadn’t cooperated in shrugging off an injury. Even then, she had to be prompted by Lexi asking why she was using her left arm less.

On examination, Lexi had discovered a hairline fracture.

So, historically, a child of hers had broken an arm and not said shit about it. Luckily, they had a doctor around, and Thaia mentally checked the Tempest’s schedule for when she could call Lexi in case—

Lexi couldn’t.

A month and more had passed, yet waves still crashed into her without warning, salt washing through deep wounds, scrubbing them raw.

It felt like drowning.

Drowning where she couldn’t move her limbs anymore because she’d spent all her energy trying to stay above the surface, lungs heavy with water as she drifted down—no.

She couldn’t drown.

Thaia concentrated on the kids who needed her now more than ever. The kids she still had to be absolutely certain hadn’t been hurt. “You’re sure?”

More nods.

“Good.” She took a few steps into the room. “Anyone want to tell me what happened?”

“Not really, no,” said Zahra.

Thaia took another step inside and her height gave her a vantage point to see the the results of whatever battle had occurred. The model Destiny Ascension lay in scattered pieces behind Zahra. Each fin was snapped off, two of them shattered, and the main bulk of the ship had rolled to a stop against the bedside table.

Lexi had given her the Ascension, back when they were both in denial. It’d taken Thaia over a year to build because it reminded her too much about the family she’d lost. It seemed oddly appropriate it’d been their kids who’d broken it... somehow. She took a deep breath, surprised that she wasn’t upset. Well, she was annoyed that they’d been fighting again, but not at the possible the demise of the Ascension. Her daughters were more important.

Then Carian burst out, “I didn’t mean to!”

Thaia looked at her in shock, opened her mouth, and then closed it. With the exception of Aella, Carian was the last one Thaia would’ve named as the culprit. Carian loved the models. In addition, she was currently on the opposite side of the room and they hadn’t been playing skyball indoors—Thaia knew exactly what a thrown skyball sounded like, and the sound it made when it hit something other than a person. And there was literally no way it could’ve been biotics because they weren’t old enough for their nervous systems to produce enough of a charge to produce anything more than a faint corona only useful for showing when they were pissed off.

“How?” Thaia let all her incredulity show.

“You aren’t mad?” asked Zahra.

“Irritated that you were fighting again, but not mad about the Ascension. I’ve got glue.”

“I thought daddy gave that to you,” Anahera said quietly.

“She did, but she wouldn’t be...”

Fuck.

“She wouldn’t be mad,” Zahra finished for her.

“No. She’d be scanning you to make sure you were all telling the truth about not being hurt.”

Zahra and Carian both pointedly looked at Anahera.

She held up her hands, like Thaia had done earlier. “It was one time! And it was a hairline fracture!” She huffed and then retaliated by confirming the version of events given by her sisters. “They’re telling the truth. Carian technically did knock it down but Zahra’s the one who applied the physics.”

Thaia looked between Zahra and Carian again. “I’m still stuck on the how.”

Zahra sighed. “We were on the bed and fighting over who got Daddy’s pillow and she wouldn’t let go and I spun her around until she did let go. She’s fine but the omni flew off her wrist and hit the Ascension.”

“When did you get an omni?” Thaia asked Carian.

Carian‘s tears started falling.

Fuck.

Thaia looked at her two oldest. “Go find your granddad and Dr. Aridana and figure out dinner.” She pointed at Zahra. “Leave the pillow.” Anahera leapt off the bed and darted out the door. Zahra scowled, gently set the pillow on the bed, and then followed. The door closed behind them and Thaia scooped Carian up into her arms. At first, Thaia thought it’d be like at the field and Carian would want Lexi and Thaia would be useless. Instead, Carian threw her arms around her neck and buried her face in her shoulder.

“I’m sorry,” she said, muffled but intelligible.

“I’m not mad.” Thaia walked in small circles around the scant amount of open space in the room. She’d done it when Carian was a baby, the movement settling her more than the rocking her older sisters had preferred. It still did, though Thaia could feel dampness left in her shirt from Carian’s tears. She was crying hard enough that snot was a possibility. She’d never quite gotten over her kneejerk squeamishness when it happened.

“It’s just mucus. It isn’t going to hurt you.” A curl of amusement plying at the corner of her lips, Lexi hands Thaia a washcloth.

Thaia accepts it, but now that she’s out of Zahra’s sight, she makes a face. “That doesn’t mean it isn’t gross.”

The best Thaia had ever managed was not outwardly reacting for as long as a child was around to see it.

“Tell you what. If you promise not to glue yourself to anything, you can help me fix the Ascension.”

Carian’s head snapped up, eyes bright through the lingering tears. “Really?” Almost instantly, her chin began quivering again. “But I’m the one who broke it.”

“And when you break things, you’re supposed to fix them if you can. It isn’t our fault that we like to fix things.“

It almost worked. Carian looked down at her hand still firmly grasping Thaia’s shirt. “What about your omni that I took?”

“What do you mean? It’s right here on my wrist.”

She shifted in Thaia’s arms and pointed at the floor in front of the bookshelf. “Over there.”

That somewhat began to explain Zahra’s mention of an omni, though it still didn’t make a whole lot of sense.

Thaia transferred Carian to her other arm and inspected the scene of the crime.

Alerted to its presence, she immediately noticed one of her old omni-tools amongst the wreckage. Then the sequence of events became clear. The omni sized for an adult wrist had been on Carian’s wrist, where she would’ve been lucky if it hadn’t immediately fallen off the moment she moved her arm. When Zahra had let go, physics had launched the too big omni-tool right off Carian’s wrist, turning it into a missile. The Ascension had been an unfortunate bystander, nothing more.

“You’re not in trouble, I promise,” she said gently to her daughter. “However, I’m really curious about why you were wearing it.”

Afflicted by a case of the post-cry hiccups, Carian’s answer took a while to get completely out. “I wanted an omni like you have.”

Well, that was easily dealt with. “We can get you your own. You’re old enough. A children’s one that fits so it won’t accidentally turn into a torpedo.”

“No.” Another hiccup interrupted Carian and she scowled, an adorable scrunch on the bridge of her nose. “I wanted one of yours, so I could... so I could be like you.”

Thaia wasn’t drowning anymore, even with after wave crashed into her, filling her chest with the same rush of love she’d felt when Lexi had carefully passed to her the newly born Carian to hold for the first time. So small she’d hardly been bigger than Thaia’s hand. Now it was all sixteen kilograms and one hundred and five centimeters of her she held as tightly as she dared.

#tag meme #tessera au #tessera: the darkest timeline #ow ow it's a good thing fictober's right around the corner

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utopianvoices · 4 years

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lights out | j.yunho

∞ genre: friends to lovers au; fluff

∞ word count: 1.85k

∞ description: A power outage was all it took for unsaid feelings to surface.

∞ a/n: i had to redeem my heart after writing that heart breaking angst D: hope y’all like this! x

∞ warnings: slightly suggestive

What was supposed to be a fun movie night had taken a complete 180 turn.

The TV that was at full volume earlier was dead silent now, thanks to the power outage throughout the building. Flashes of lightening illuminates your apartment every few minutes, followed by the loud rumbling of thunder. It also definitely didn't help that you had been watching 'Lights Out' right before the power outage. All because of your stupid best friend.

“I'm sorry!" he exclaims, after stepping on your foot for the third time. "It's so difficult to see in here."

"Seriously, Yunho! Are you that blind?" you hiss at him, rubbing your sore foot with one hand, while the other hand grips your phone which was serving as a flashlight. "Just find the matches quickly before you amputate my foot. My phone's gonna die soon, too."

And just as those words leave your lips, the kitchen is engulfed in complete darkness, as the remaining power in your phone reaches depletion.

"Great."

You tuck your phone into your back pocket, grab your best friend's hand, and make your way back to the couch, courtesy of the light the lightening was providing. "Let's just wait it out, Jeong."

Seeing Yunho comfortable on the couch, you swing your legs over his lap, shooting him a cheeky smile when he glares at you.

But no matter how much he glares at you, you know he wasn’t really mad, because he slowly starts massaging your ankle that he had stepped on earlier, the heat of his hand felt through your sweatpants as you feel goosebumps erupt on your skin.

The way the raging storm sheds light on Yunho’s face makes him look ethereal; like someone who had just walked onto earth straight from the gates of heaven, the light hitting him perfectly, outlining his soft, but striking, features. All he was missing were a pair of wings, and you’d have confirmed your theory about your best friend being an angel. Of course then you might be able to convince yourself that the gigantic crush you had on him was not in your control.

"I’m bored," the boy beside you whines, dragging out the word 'bored' as he throws his head back onto the couch. "Shall we play a game?"

You roll your eyes at his dramatic antics, retracting your legs as you sit up straight, crossing your legs as you face him.

"Sure," you shrug, entertaining him. "What do you have in mind?"

"Twenty questions!" he chants, clapping his hands as he turns to face you, mirroring your position. It was a game you often played with him when you had first become friends, contributing a lot to the state of your current friendship.

You let out a small chuckle—heart swelling as you take in his eyes that shined bright even in the dark—and send him a nod, indicating that you wanted him to go first, as you look down at the hem of your sweater, waiting for his question. Not a second later, he delivers his question, as if he had it planned all along.

"Would you date your best friend?"

Your head shoots up at his question, heart drumming against your ribcage as you stare at him, unsure if you had heard the question correctly. His face was void of emotions, all traces of laughter from earlier erased, as you will your heart to slow down.

"W-what?"

He continues staring at you, not breaking eye contact as he repeats his question, and you’re sure his voice had gone an octave lower.

"Would. You. Date. Your. Best. Friend?" he repeats, enunciating every word clearly, which would’ve earned an eye roll from you if not for the fact that your brain was in overdrive, thinking of all the possible things you could say.

You knew for a fact that he knew he was your only best friend, which just created more chaos in your brain as you try to decipher the intention behind his question.

If you weren’t so busy battling your own emotions, you would have noticed how loud his heart was beating—still in perfect rhythm with yours—as he waited anxiously for you answer, which he knew would change the direction of your friendship, for better or for worse. He wasn’t the only one who thought the world of the other; but he was the only one who had the curage to do something about it.

Seemingly making up your mind about your answer, you clear your throat, his attention locked onto you, as you mumble some words, hoping the ground would swallow you whole.

“I-I guess so.” His heart picks up its speed in response, if even possible, having successfully heard what you had said even if you had said it softly in hopes that he wouldn’t be able to hear. It’s hard to miss out on things you’ve been waiting for.

Yunho opens his mouth to ask you another next question, but you stop him by raising your hand, earning a confused look from him.

“It’s my turn,” you tell him, realisation dawning on his face as he closes his mouth, encouraging you to continue talking. “Would you date your best friend?”

It was a childish move—you knew it was—but you had to know his response to his own question before he could ask you anymore questions that would fry your brain from all the overthinking you could foresee yourself doing.

You’re expecting some form of hesitation, but his answer, unlike yours, is laced with confidence and pride.

“I would.” He answers loud and clear, making your face heat up as you feel your body swell with love for the tall boy sitting a few inches away from you, along with a twinge of guilt stemming from how uncertain you had sounded.

You can’t stop the small smile gracing your face as your eyes avoid Yunho and dart all around the room, unable to face him directly from your indirect confession.

Seeing your shy smile, Yunho sports a smile of his own, slowly moving his body forward so that the gap between you both was now smaller than before, allowing him to take in the way your eyes crinkle at the sides when you smile, and the way your eyelashes flutter every time you blink.

Unbeknownst to himself, he blurts out the next question, caught up in the moment of admiring you. And for the third time that night, your heart stops.

“Would you kiss your best friend?”

Your eyes meet Yunho’s in a flash, as he continues to look at you like you hung the moon in the sky, and you immediately notice the lack of distance between you and him. If you leaned in slightly, you could count the number of stars he held in his eyes, or even find out how his soft lips tasted.

You decide you are more curious about the latter.

Pulse racing, you lean forward as your eyes flutter shut, pressing your lips against Yunho’s in a soft kiss, conveying your affirmative answer through that one action; something a thousand words wouldn’t be able to achieve.

Robbing him of his time to react, you pull away as quickly as you had leaned in, taking in the dazed look on his face as it finally dawns on him what you had done. Unable to stop yourself, laughter spills out of your lips as your mind replays the way he had looked like such a cute puppy when you pulled away.

But as you’re struggling to catch your breath, too busy laughing behind your hands, you don’t realise the way his eyes darkens as he stares at you, now out of his daze, as his mind replays the way your lips felt against his. Subconsciously, his tongue darts out and swipes across his lips, wanting to taste you again.

Without warning, he thrusts his hand out and grabs yours, pulling you towards him as you let out a small squeak at the sudden movement. He effortlessly carries and places you on his lap, his hands finding home on your waist as yours automatically hold onto his shoulder for support, your legs on either side of his.

You’re now breathless for a whole new reason, as you both stare into each other’s eyes. The intensity in his eyes makes you want to look away, but at the same time, entrancing you in even more, the tension in the room thick.

Finally, it’s like something snaps in him, and he’s craning his neck upwards as he connects your lips together, the kiss conveying utter desperation, and you can feel yourself weakening as his mouth moves hotly against yours.

Your hands travel to the back of his head as you play with the ends of his hair, causing him to tighten his grip on your waist, trying to pull you even closer, even if it was physically impossible with how much you were already pressed up against him.

His hands travel to the skin that was left uncovered by your shirt, triggering a sound from you that was muffled by his lips on yours. But the vibration was enough to elicit a reaction from him, resulting in him biting down softly on your bottom lip purely as a knee jerk reaction, willing to stop the sound threatening to escape him.

His lips leave yours as they travel along your jaw, leaving soft feather-like kisses against your skin, earning soft sighs from you, as you bask in the pleasure filling you up as your hands clasp tightly behind him.

Just as his hands clench around the ends of your shirt, tugging at it, the TV blares, causing you both to pull apart in shock. Your once dark apartment was now lit up by the light from the TV, as power returns to your complex.

You look around your apartment in confusion, finally meeting Yunho’s eyes, as you take in his dishevelled hair and swollen lips, dissolving into a fit of giggles as it dawns on you what you had been doing with your best friend just moments ago.

But maybe, best friends wouldn’t be the most appropriate words to describe your relationship anymore.

You place a soft, smiley kiss on Yunho’s lips before engulfing him in a warm hug, not moving from your previous position of straddling him. He returns the hug, as he buries his face into your neck, and he’s sure you can feel his smile against your neck from how wide he was smiling.

Yunho pulls away first, cupping your face and leaning his forehead against yours, and you can feel his hot breath fanning your lips. All traces of shyness erased from the both of you as you stare into each other’s eyes quietly, praying this moment never ends.

“Be mine,” he whispers, breaking the silence, and then smiling when your tinkling laugh fills his ears.

You grin at him, deciding to tease him, knowing that he knew your obvious answer. “Depends. Will you be mine?”

It was his turn to chuckle, as he leans in slowly and whispers against your lips.

“Forever.”

#ateez #ateez imagines #ateez scenarios #jeong yunho imagines #jeong yunho scenarios #jeong yunho #dee scribbles #sadlfkjskld sorry it's so rushed and short #i just wanted to write something #after going mia for so long #:(#also why did i talk about hearts so much #i can't stand myself #asldfjksd #ALSO I SINNED AT THE END OF FIC #OOPS?#>:D

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lyricalive · 4 years

Photo

A soul is an electric force, full of potential energy.

——Can we find souls in unlikely places, and set them into motion?

中古技術〜 Electric Spirit Seance

#01 Lullaby of a Deserted Hell

From a bird's-eye view, the figures of two sprightly maidens would appear like dolls amidst the surrounding range of artificial mountains, a stunning silvery wasteland.

The taller of the two small-looking girls, Maribel Hearn (Merry) planted her hands on her hips as she surveyed the junk that encircled them in all directions.

– "I can't believe you managed to convince me to go dumpster-diving. Is this a step up or down from graverobbing?"

– "We didn't rob anything from the graveyard. I definitely want to find something worth taking from here, though."

– "So this is a step down."

– "Nah, it's fine. These are all things that no one wants."

– "Or things that no one wants to be seen. Of course, that means��"

– "It's the perfect place for the Secret Sealing Club!"

The club's current president, Renko Usami, pumped her fist with plenty of good cheer. Merry smiled back, although she had mixed feelings about calling a land of literal garbage home.

– "We can't just have normal dates, can we?"

Fortunately, at least, the garbage was not excessively odorous or grimy. The site was a landfill specifically for electronic waste: frayed wires, boxy television frames, old phone models of all kinds.

The time was just around sunset -- more specifically 7:42 and 33 seconds, according to Renko's discerning eyes. The mild starlight reflected off of broken LCD screens, making them appear ever so slightly less lifeless.

#02 Rigid Paradise

– "What exactly are we looking for... Let me guess. Hoping to find some retro videogames?"

– "I won't lie. That'd be great."

– "But finding both a game and the console to go with it is going to be tough."

– "Did you know, if a company manufactures more games than it can sell, they end up buried underground to get them out of circulation?"

– "How wasteful. At least they were given a proper funeral."

– "The first time this happened was long ago in another country. Thousands of unsold cartridges... Just because they weren't popular at the time, now they'll never be played. I'd love to give them a chance."

– "Hee-hee, so much for a funeral. I suppose we're not in the business of letting the dead rest in peace."

In this unique sort of graveyard, the bodies had been piling up for countless years. Most of the material would never biodegrade, so the mounds kept accumulating, one layer buried under the next. In fact, despite the oceans rising drastically over recent years, this dumping ground remained unusually high above sea level for the sole reason that its foundation was constantly being reinforced by layers of tightly packed waste.

Renko, who had taken the precaution to wear pants and gloves on this excursion, knelt down to examine a mess of circuitry at the bottom of a looser heap. Merry meanwhile nudged the tip of her shoe against the ground, pondering how deep down was the earth.

#03 Poison Body ~ Forsaken Doll

The girl in black and white impatiently murmured the time, for the fourth time that hour, before stretching her back and turning around to check on her partner.

– "Find anything interesting yet, Merry?"

Merry, who had been spacing out for some while, quickly darted her eyes around for an improvised answer. A glint of light led her gaze to a long, flat cell phone teetering unceremoniously atop of a pile.

– "This... Haven't I seen this model in advertisements recently? How did this already become trash?"

– "Oh, you know. Technology becomes out-of-date awfully quickly these days."

– "Mm. I'd like to see it as a sign of progress, but…"

– "Yeah, it's not good at all. We're in an age of quantity over quality."

Manufacturers who design their products to poor standards, so as to improve on them soon after, are akin to the type of trickster youkai that disguises itself in beggars' clothes to take advantage of others' low expectations. In this selfishly self-deprecating society, it had become a disadvantage to show one's best.

– "Everyone knows this, but thinking about it makes me so irritated."

– "Right? Humanity is really holding itself back."

– "On top of that, don't they know that this is how vengeful tsukumogami are born?"

An object that has gone unused for 100 years is believed to develop a consciousness. Some end up harmless -- but if its short life was spent being used as nothing more than throwaway capital, naturally it would make sense for it to become unhappy.

Merry laid one hand gently on the phone, as if in a gesture of sympathy.

– "Hey, be careful not to touch more than you need to. It may look clean, but the chemicals released by e-waste can still be toxic."

– "Ah, right..."

She felt a bit sheepish for needing safety lessons from Renko, of all people. But, having thought too hard about it, it became difficult for Merry to view the objects as just physical material. A great majority of one's life was lived by virtual communication, so this material had great amounts of personal information stored in it. Of course, the information's original source was in people's minds, so it's not as if it would be instantly forgotten once the plug was pulled. But there were certainly more petabytes of raw data in a square meter of this dump than a human brain could hold.

#04 Electric Heritage

– "Come to think of it, though, have you ever actually heard a story about an electronic object becoming a tsukumogami?"

– "Well, no..."

– "I have a theory about that. I don't think e-waste is even capable of that transition."

– "How do you figure?"

– "Consider the crossover of electromagnetic fields and the detection of spirits. Electricity is a simulation of life energy, almost too spot-on. Like forces repel... so true life energy can't coexist with it. Because they're flowing with this imitation power, I don't think electronics get a chance to develop real souls."

– "I see. Then, we can't properly call this a graveyard..."

– "...if these bodies were never truly alive."

– "I can't decide whether that makes me feel relieved, or lonely."

Merry let out an audible sigh against their eerily silent backdrop. Then she braced herself to deliver the next news.

– "But, if that's so... then why can I still feel something spiritual around here?"

Renko's eyes lit up instantly.

– "Do you? I was hoping you'd say that!"

– "It just started... which is odd, since we haven't covered all that much ground since getting here. It's as if a border connecting to somewhere else just opened."

– "That supports the second part of the theory. Like forces repel, but opposite forces attract. They may not have souls themselves, but these empty vessels surely attract souls."

It felt fairly certain, now that both of their minds had helped confirm it: Some spirit, human or non-human, seemed to have decided to take up residence in the wasteland. Merry took a moment to feel proud of herself for her invaluable contribution.

– "By the way, where do robots fit into your theory?"

– "Well... I mean, there's no doubt we're getting closer every day to the A.I. revolution."

– "Oh, my. I knew I should have tipped our e-waiter last time we went to that café."

– "But that's a completely different phenomenon than what births a tsukumogami, right? It has to do with the software, not the hardware."

– "Yes. Though, it would seem to imply that there is a border of 'false' and 'true' life that can be crossed..."

#05 Entrusting This World to Idols ~ Idolatrize World

– "Now all we have to do is narrow it down, and we'll --"

As if on cue, Renko's thoughts were interrupted by a loud crashing sound from behind... music to her thrill-seeking ears. She whirled around to catch the culprit, her eyes fixating on Merry and the dark-colored object that rested a few paces away at her feet. The blonde girl threw her hands up in a display of innocence.

– "I didn't do it. It moved on its own! I just saw it fall out of nowhere."

Renko's attempt at a professional retort failed to conceal her excited, twitching grin.

– "Merry, Merry... This is the most basic of physics. An object can't move on its own! Unless..."

They approached the rectangular object and peered over it. It seemed to be a tablet PC, roughly twenty centimeters in length. It had landed face up, luckily enough to not have not shattered the screen, though there was a significant surface crack down its center.

– "Hm..."

– "We've ruled out tsukumogami. You think it could be... a poltergeist?"

– "I don't know. Rather than an outside force, the energy seems very contained in here."

– "So then... a spirit living inside?"

– "Something like that."

In response, the light of the screen flashed briefly on and back off.

– "Ahh! Electricity, a simulation of life energy..."

– "It also works the other way around!"

This was a very lucky revelation for the two investigators, as it would have been nearly impossible to find a compatible charging cable. In an age where each and every product was developed with its own unique cord design, this feature was marketed to consumers as a collectible game; the infinite variety, a controlled channel for creativity.

The device seemed to call out to them, understanding what they wanted. The power flashed again, on and off and on, in a quirky rhythmical pattern that almost evoked a personality.

– "We've definitely found something worth taking home!"

– "Wait. Isn't it wrong to remove a spirit from the place it's attached to? We can't just adopt a ghost like an abandoned baby."

– "Like you said, it's attached to the item, not the place. We're just fostering it for a bit before it moves on!"

– "All right... Just don't raise it to be wild like you."

– "And you, Merry, make sure you don't spoil it!"

#06 Nostalgic Blood of the East ~ Old World

The pair reached Renko's dorm with the haunted vessel tucked inconspicuously into their satchel, grateful that the spirit hadn't chosen to bind itself to a full desktop monitor or CPU instead. The question moving forward would be how to unlock its secrets.

– "How old do you think it is?"

– "Because it wasn't buried under anything, it seems like we should assume it to be fairly new. But it just feels so out of place."

– "Actually, I meant the spirit."

– "Oh."

Hand in hand with the phenomenon of planned obsolescence, the fashionable aesthetics of electronics changed as often as water under a bridge. Sleek designs were popular, then retro designs, then designs that mimicked the mimicry of two eras past, a vaguely deteriorating cycle. As a result, it was difficult to tell which era this piece of technology belonged to.

– "Remember that I saw a border open? Maybe not just the spirit, but the whole item came from somewhere else..."

They had been scrutinizing the home screen for quite some time, attempting to navigate the ancient interface, and hadn't made much headway. As far as they could tell, the data was heavily corrupted, and most of its history had been erased. They were able to access only the most basic types of apps, like the calculator and the keyboard.

– "Hey, Merry. I think we should use that other thing we picked up."

– "That? I don't even understand how we would use it..."

As evidenced by her smug grin, the more scientifically-minded of the pair had full confidence in the strange idea she was about to suggest.

#07 A Tiny, Tiny Clever Commander

– "I mean, really? A mouse?"

Renko had insisted that they bring home a wired peripheral mouse, which she had spent an extra half hour scavenging for. However, of course, the end of the cable did not match the outlet on the tablet.

Currently, she was back in the scavenging position, digging through the pile of unorganized junk that cluttered her closet (mostly books and occult items). Or rather, it looked unorganized, but she seemed to know exactly where everything was. ...Or rather, Merry concluded, it truly was unorganized, but her eyes were sharp at scanning through even a complete mess. She wondered if this small pile would ever become as large as the one at the dump.

– "A-ha, found it!"

Renko had managed to track down the very particular treasure she was seeking, the final piece of their forgathered puzzle. A small cube with many variously patterned notches rested in her open palm. The material's finishing was uncolored and plain, likely to have been produced independently with a 3D printer rather than as a commercial product.

– "W-Where did you get a thing like that?"

– "I have connections you don't know, Merry."

Merry thought she had heard this line before, and felt a bead of sweat roll down her neck just like the first time. The source was certainly shady. Universal adapters were not at all legal. Treating it like a Rubik's cube, and glancing back and forth for reference, Renko cleverly manipulated the block in her hand in ways that Merry was unable to understand.

Renko's partner, who had long embraced being an accomplice, appreciated her resourcefulness; she only wished to be kept more up to date when the other girl's mental plans ran ten steps ahead. But she supposed that this was how Renko felt in return when it came to supernatural sights that she couldn't see, so perhaps they were even.

– "Just like that? Like magic..."

– "Tell me, Merry. Can you see the border of magic and science?"

With all the pieces aligned, Renko ceremoniously linked the mouse to the tablet through the intermediary box. As a pop-up window indicated the drivers being registered, it was, they determined, a truly magical feat. The light on the screen dimmed a bit, as if the spirit were expressing slight disappointment that it was no longer their only option for a power supply.

– "Still... Better technology has been around for decades. These are so unwieldly. Does anyone use an optical mouse anymore?"

– "No, but no one's done this ritual in a long time either."

#08 No More Going Through Doors

Renko took Merry's hands in her own and conveyed them in a stack atop of the mouse. Holding this pose, Merry squinted at the screen in front of her, which displayed a neatly spaced virtual keyboard with a complete set of lettering. A mild shiver ran through her, either nervousness or excitement.

– "Hang on. This setup looks familiar somehow."

– "That's right. We're having a séance!"

Although Renko was very skilled with computers, hacking was not her expertise. She did, however, have the kind of mind that was able to think around the box, discovering back doors. The opportunity here was simple: If they couldn't reach the secrets, they would consult the only one who knew -- the spirit itself.

– "Huh!?"

– "This mouse is a perfect planchette to use as an interface. Sure, we have voice and touch technology. But you don't want the spirit to possess your actual body in order to touch the screen or activate your voice, do you?"

– "Definitely not. ...Wait, did I ever say I wanted to be the medium at all?"

Merry pulled her hands back from the mouse and saw the screen's light flicker weakly.

– "Oh, er... You're right. We didn't really decide that, did we?"

– "Mm..."

– "I think you'd be better suited, but I'll gladly go first. I've always wanted to try something like this."

Merry's eyes glazed over as she thought about the prospect of communicating with the spirit. They had assumed the sealed entity was harmless enough to bring home, but could there be some risk in directly channeling it?

Then again, what was the other option? To leave their investigation at a dead end?

You don't belong on this side of the unknown.

A faint voice bubbled up inside of Merry, almost like an intrusive thought. This had been happening to her increasingly often lately, though she always forgot about it after the fact. Because, at the same time, they certainly felt like her own feelings...

Maribel Hearn was sparked with a surge of curiosity that made her want to take the lead. These were precisely the club activities she had signed up for. How much more dangerous could it be than anything else, so long as one made sure to follow the protocols and say goodbye at the end?

– "No... I'd like to do it."

Renko blinked in surprise.

– "Really? ...Well, gee, make up your mind. You made me get all excited for myself. Go ahead, but I call next!"

#09 Shoutoku Legend ~ True Administrator

Having cleared the area and turned off all the lights, Merry sat with her back straight against a chair and took a deep breath. No candle was necessary, as the warm glow of the screen cast a ring of illumination around the table. They had thoroughly discussed the questions they desired to ask, though the words felt awkward to speak out loud. Nevertheless, the young medium opened her mouth.

– "What is... your name?"

...

The atmosphere of room was deathly still. Merry let all the muscles in her arm relax, preparing.

...

I...

– "It's working...!"

The spirit was conscious and listening. The planchette began to glide beneath Merry's loose grip, landing on the letter I. When it paused on the letter for several seconds, she clicked the mouse button to confirm before the involuntary movement slowly began again.

...FO RG OT.

– "Ah. So it's going to be up to us to give it a name."

– "Did you own this tablet?"

While Merry was lost in thought about a potential name, Renko chimed in with a question of her own from the opposite side of the table. However, the spirit seemed to hesitate in answering.

Suddenly, the other girl's focus returned. On an instinct, she broke the silence with an unexpected change of the question.

– "Does this tablet own you?"

...

YE S.

– "Huh... The tablet owns the spirit? How did that happen?"

Although Renko's words were more thinking out loud than a direct question, the spirit was responsive. Merry's hand immediately began to move.

...

SN AP.

– "Snap...? That sounds kind of scary."

– "What does that mean?"

The cursor then swerved dramatically past all the letters on the keypad and down to the app menu along the bottom edge of the screen. It hovered over an icon barely recognizable as an antique camera.

– "Ah..."

The app launched, reproducing a dark, blurry image of the table on which the device's lens was turned. Upon clicking the screen, a photograph was taken, and the damaged speaker emitted a distorted snapping sound.

– "Spirit photography!"

The two girls burst out in unison, solving the riddle simultaneously.

– "Right. We've all heard the old belief that getting a photograph taken of you might steal a piece of your soul."

– "It has some basis. If captured in a photograph by accident, a minor spirit's energy might become trapped."

Somewhere in the hidden files, such a photograph must exist, binding some foreign essence to this device. The spirit was likely eager to get free.

Merry minimized the camera app and returned to the keyboard.

– "Who took the picture?"

...

Unlike its own, this name seemed to be one the spirit knew. The pair observed with bated breath as the cursor navigated itself around the maze of letters. Ultimately, it came to a halt, and Merry clicked on the final letter.

– "...Eh? Merry, stop kidding around!"

Merry turned to her partner with a genuine, solemn expression.

– "I'm... not. I swear."

Renko's face went pale. In ink-black font, three familiar syllables stood on display beside a blinking cursor.

#10 Dream World Folklore

To disprove the influence of the ideomotor effect, they had asked the question several more times, using both girls as mediums, until the spirit ultimately stopped responding altogether.

– "Oh, no. We scared it away..."

– "Well, it did spook us first."

– "Renko... You weren't kidding about your connections, were you?"

Renko scratched her head with lingering bewilderment.

– "Is the spirit messing with us? Or could it be..."

Her gaze wandered over to the stream of occult paraphernalia still spilling out of the crack of her closet door, and she experienced a strange sense of longing. The adventurous scientist was heavily accustomed to investigating mysteries from an observational and objective point of view. Finding herself personally a step closer to the subject was a bizarre and almost gut-twisting feeling. She supposed that this was how Merry felt in return when the focus of investigations was on her own powers, so perhaps they were even. Almost.

After a few more sessions of séance, they managed to navigate to an encrypted folder. A full-screen photograph had flashed open... but, before they were able to make out any details, the tablet's power instantly cut off. Following this, it no longer responded to any input.

Their assumption would be that the spirit had been able to cross over, after deleting its digital ties to the physical container and unsealing the information it was attached to.

– "I suppose this is goodbye..."

– "Is the spirit free now?"

– "I think so."

– "That's good for it, at least."

– "Too bad for you. If we kept it, maybe it would have served as your personal shikigami."

– "Isn't that a bit cold-hearted? It was supposed to be our child!"

A shikigami is the perfect phantasmal servant. The owner may input commands, and it carries out orders with extraordinary speed and calculation. Of course, a normal computer already fulfills essentially the same purpose. Outside world humans of the modern era aren't in need of such a spirit under their possession.

Even so, the force of attraction that had drawn them to cross paths with this spirit would be a mystery to chase going forward. The two present members of the Sealing Club had a new story to tell, an urban legend that could be shared only amongst themselves.

Afterwords

Hello, this is someone who absolutely promised themself that they would publish at least one Hifuu fic per calendar year. The idea for this one began with a conversation with my real-life partner (as is usually the case of inspiration) about the excellent aesthetic of using a computer keyboard as a Ouija board. This subject in turn came up because of a "ghost" that haunts her keyboard by making a certain cryptic message appear on the screen at random times because the "." and "0" keys are in an easy position for us to accidentally press. So, this story is dedicated to our precious child, ".0-chan."

Then, while it was already being written, WBaWC came out and confirmed that a technology-themed fic would be totally appropriate, and my favorite song from the soundtrack had the perfect title to be used in it. (Also, its blatant dystopian themes justified playing up the similar themes of the Sealing Club's society even more than usual.) And yet, despite many things lining up, it almost didn't get finished in time. It's been such a busy and stressful year, which I hope gets better next year...

Another source of inspiration was the blog "Yukarisuggestion," whose portrayal I respect a lot. When they drop minor bits of supernatural trivia, it definitely feels like they are coming from the youkai sage herself, very natural to accept. I latched onto these posts in particular, finding the concept fascinating, and I only hope I interpreted it acceptably. ...I was really aiming sharply this time at the Sealing Club's conversational aesthetic of "casual confidence in super obscure things that outside listeners would hear as nonsense," so I'm afraid some parts may have crossed the border of B.S.

Also, I wonder if it's okay that the second half of the song choices are almost entirely bad puns?

ASA (Our ghost child's pen name would be "0.4" / "Rei-ten-shi"!)

Hifuu CD-style stories:

» [Tumblr] [AO3] 自封夢幻〜 Sentimental Reverie

» [Tumblr] [AO3] 陶然夢幻〜 Transcendental Revelry

» [Tumblr] [AO3] 羨望横断〜 Unenviable Crossroads

» [Tumblr] [AO3] 外来土産〜 Adventive Reminiscence

» [Tumblr] [AO3] 中古技術〜 Electric Spirit Seance

» [Tumblr] [AO3] 幻想惑星直列〜 Phantasmal Syzygy

#touhou #maribel hearn #renko usami #renmerry #fanfiction

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drabblesanddreams · 5 years

Note

hey, idk if you’re currently accepting requests but imma try anyway. can u do a scenario with chuuya and his fem!s/o where mori had assigned her to a mission that requires her to stay at the ADA for a while. most prolly bc a new mutual enemy showed up in yokohama. chuuya is agitated and scared bc his gf and dazai had a long history together and they havent had a closure yet and its clear that dazai still loves her. so chuuya would have to ask for assurance from his gf. make it extra angsty! 😂

omg hi!! I loved writing this request so much so tysm for sending it in! Though im not sure its the kind of angst you were thinking of i hope you enjoy it regardless! Also super sorry for finishing it super late, hope yall enjoy!

My kofi link if you wish to support!

TW: just arguing tbh

Word count: 1.5k

Summary: What happens when you are sent off to work beside a certain ex-mafia member who you share an unresolved history with but your currently with chuuya?

“Hat…check…gun…check…” you mutter to yourself as you recount each of the objects that you had packed for your latest mission. “So, what exactly am I missing, then?” you still feel like something was off however, like you forgot something important. You scrunch your eyebrows together in deep thought as you tried to pinpoint what exactly you were missing. You couldn’t afford to forget anything that might come of use, for this upcoming mission was of high importance.

A new group had recently arrived in Yokohama, threatening the dual existence of the ADA as well as the Port Mafia. This shared threat meant that both organizations had to work together, at least until the threat had been wiped out.

That was where you came in, you had a certain history with one of the members, a history that painted you in a good light which was exactly what the Port Mafia needed in order to establish a functioning alliance.

On the other hand, both you and Mori-san weren’t foolish enough to think that this history meant Dazai trusted you, per se. He was a complicated man with an even more complicated way of thinking who was smart enough to know that trusting someone was one of the most foolish things you could do.

But the fluttering feeling you felt in your stomach was a strong indication of just how nervous you were to be working alongside the handsome brunet once more. You knew how sly he could be with his words, how he could get deep under your skin and make you question things you were so sure about before. You wanted to bury your past in the deep end of your mind, to never resurface again and haunt you. Regardless, your fling with Dazai ended a long time ago and you were now with-

“Hey,” the sudden sound of another individuals voice breaks you out of your deep thought and you blink haphazardly. You straighten up from looking over your backpack to see Chuuya standing by the door, hand seemingly hesitantly placed on the frame, gripping it a little too tightly. He stares at you solemnly, a man just as caught in the spirals of his mind as you were.

“Hey,” your mouth curves into a smile, happy to see your boyfriend before you were due to head off, “What are you doing here?” Chuuya was required for a different part of this mission, and though you were confused to see him you wouldn’t say that you weren’t happy.

“Got you somethin’” You watch as he pulls a bouquet of red roses from behind his back. You smiled warmly at him before accepting the flowers and burying your face slightly in order to inhale their sweet scent.

“You didn’t have to,” you comment, though very much happy as you temporarily place the bouquet on your bed so that you can later place them in a vase. Every day without fail he presented you with a big, bouquet of red roses. The colour as rich and passionate as the foundations of your relationship with the ginger mafia member. It was sweet, really, and never failed to make your insides flutter with affection.

“But what are you doing here? Aren’t you supposed to already be gone?” you question, turning around as he pulls you into his arms, holding you tightly and burying his face in your neck.

“What?” he snorts before planting soft kisses onto your neck, “I can’t see my beautiful girlfriend before she leaves me for another man?” you roll your eyes at his comment, moving back to slap his chest lightly, “Haha, very funny Chuuya.”

He returns to your neck and you’re distracted momentarily as he continues his previous actions. Light sucking, sensual kissing, tender licking, pleasure fills you as you flutter your eyes shut and loll your head back, letting him have even more access to your neck.

“Say it to me then,” he murmurs, and you hum, still too lost with how good his mouth feels on your neck and how his hand was gripping your hip.

“Say what,” you whisper back, and he stops his mission of decorating the skin of your neck with his loving kisses.

“That you don’t still love him,”

You huff, “Love who?” wishing he would just go back to making you feel good.

“Dazai.”

This catches your attention and you open your eyes, moving your head back to look at him in his eyes. Even now up close, the blue of his eyes is breathtaking to you, though they are now set hard with something you can’t quite identify.

Anger? Frustration? You have no idea what it is but its setting you off slightly.

The two of you never mentioned his name, not when it included the context of your previous relationship with said man. Later in the day, you would wish that you did, after all, maybe it wouldn’t have led to the conversation that the two of you were having now.

“What?” you ask, forehead creasing in a state of confusion.

“C’mon (Y/n), I think we both know what’s going to happen when you leave,” he states icily and you blink, shaking your head as you move backwards, sneering ever so slightly, “And exactly what’s going to happen?”

He rolls his ocean blue eyes at you and you cross your arms as you wait for his answer, “I seriously have to spell it out of you? It’s not cute playing dumb anymore doll,” your eyes narrow at his words.

“What the hell’s your problem?” you asked, confused and a tad hurt by his passive behaviour. You had no idea why he was acting like this; you watch monetarily as he strides further into the room and turns away from you. You have the faintest clue though, “Is this seriously over him? How many times are you going to keep bringing this up?!” you ask in indignation

His nostrils flare as he spins back around to face you, “Yes,” he confirms and you throw your hands up in frustration, “We both know that you’re still in love with the suicidal basted.” You wince at his words, you never thought that he would throw the fact right in your face. But his next words shamelessly cause your heart to skip a beat.

“And we both know he’s still in love with you.”

“Jesus fucking Christ Chuuya, unresolved history doesn’t mean that I’m still fucking in love with him!” you exclaim in pure frustration throwing your hands around as you turn away from him and sit back down to your bags on the ground.

“It does though!” he claims, jaw clenching as his voice raises to a shout, “You can honestly tell me that you feel absolutely nothing?” he snarls following you so that he can meet your scowling face. You almost want to shy away from his blazing fury. Chuuya has always been a hot-headed fool, but to take it on you over some insecurity…

“Well, what the fuck do you want me to do Chuuya?!?” you yell, throwing a piece of clothing at him as you stand back up, “What, do you want me to just quit the mission? Maybe move to another city so I never have to see him?” your eyes spark with fury as you continue, “O-or no, you know what? Why don’t I just move to another fucking planet huh?!” you scream.

“I knew I it, I knew you still had feelings,” he shouts back, knocking back his hat slightly so that he can run his hands through the orange strands. You shake your head in disbelief, “But I’m with you because I love you!” you cry out and he stares at you from underneath a heated gaze.

“You seriously have no trust in me? After everything?” you ask, as you stared at him in confusion. You didn’t understand how he could react to you in that way, how he could question everything the both of you went through.

A moment of silence finally overtakes the both of you and you stare at him, breathing heavily as you try to catch your breath.

His gaze darkens, his voice dropping to a low tone, “Yes.”

You flinch at that, eyes welling up pitifully as if he physically assaulted you. You try blinking it away to no avail and instead glare at him hatefully, letting the tears well up as the hot white-anger fill you to the core. All you want is to claw at him, to see him bleed and wail as pitifully as you feel right now.

The only sign betraying the resolute anger you felt was the quiver in your bottom lip. Your breath hitches as you slightly nod in resolution, “Get out,” you whisper.

He stays put, however, and instead fixes you with a hard glare.

“Get out!” You shout furiously, reaching for the bouquet of flowers on the bed and hurling them in his direction, the tears finally spilling down your face, “And take your stupid flowers with you!”

And he did. Leaving you behind with a broken heart and a hollow feeling that you haven’t felt in a long time.

#bsd #bsd imagines #bsd chuuya #bsd x reader #Nakahara Chuuya #Chūya Nakahara #Chuuya #chuuya imagine #chuuya x reader #chuuya nakahara x reader #bungou stray dogs #bungou stray dogs x reader #bungou stray dogs imagine #bungo stray dogs #bungo stray dogs headcanons #bsd imagine #dazai osamu #dazai osamu x reader #dazai x reader

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cheemerthelizard · 4 years

Text

Crusader of Life 2: Chapter 1

200 follower special! I’m so blessed to have so many people who enjoy my works! Thank you to everyone who’s been supporting me!

Alright, now that the thank you is out of the way, I want to set up something. This is NOT a reader-insert. The reader has been replaced with Lily, who is an OC of mine and was previously the reader from the original Crusader of Life, meaning she shares the memories of going on a fifty-day trip to defeat Dio and everything else that happened during that trip.

Okay! Now that I’ve cleared that up, the year is 1999. Lily and Noriaki Kakyoin are now happily married, and are traveling to the small town of Morioh to investigate some Stand users. Of course, Jotaro is coming too, but he has some family business to attend to first...

“Ah, I love this station!” the taxi driver said cheerily as the static was replaced by some cheery music. In the car with him were four others: Jotaro Kujo, and a family of three, Noriaki, Lily, and Emily Kakyoin.

“So, remind me again, why are you four going to Morioh?” the driver asked, trying to make small talk.

“Speedwagon Foundation business,” Lily replied. “Confidential stuff.”

“Well, it’s not too confidential if you’re bringing your child, is it?” the taxi man laughed.

“Oh, Emily?” Kakyoin mentioned the two-year-old girl, holding her up. “We would leave her home, but she’s recently had some...” he looked for the word, “special requirements, so we can’t really trust a babysitter.”

“Special requirements?” Jotaro asked.

“Yes,” Lily responded. “Very special requirements. Just as confidential as the Speedwagon Foundation business. We can’t trust any sitters with the job.”

The man nodded. “And what about you, Mr...?”

“Kujo,” Jotaro answered. “Jotaro Kujo. And I’m here as a partner to them. We go way back, so our higher ups always pair the three of us on missions together.”

“Ah, I see,” the man said. “Well, this is your stop. Enjoy your time in Morioh!”

Once everyone was out of the taxi, and it was long gone from the horizon, Jotaro turned his head and looked at his two friends. “She’s a Stand user, isn’t she?”

“Yes!” Lily squealed. “She’s had it for less than two weeks, so she’s just as excited as we are.”

“What does it do?” Jotaro asked.

“Why doesn’t she show you?” Kakyoin replied, then bent down to Emily’s height. “It’s okay, Jotaro has a Stand, too. You can show him.”

Nodding her head, Emily squeezed her eyes shut, and a humanoid creature with long, golden hair, yellow skin, eyes resembling those of bugs, and a pastel purple dress appeared.When she opened her eyes again, she looked in joy at the thing beside her, then pointed at Jotaro’s hat. Obediently, the Stand used its power to lift it up and bring it to Emily.

“What?” Jotaro felt the top of his head, which was now hatless, and looked at his missing cover now floating towards the little girl. “She...”

“Yeah, it’s a sort of telekinesis,” Kakyoin explained. “We call it Walking on Sunshine.”

“Walking on Sunshine,” Jotaro repeated. “Nice name.”

“She can also just activate it around a certain radius and make everything around her float. Now, Emily, give Jotaro his hat back, please,” Lily said to her daughter, who walked up to the man and lifted the hat back to his head.

“She’s already precise with her movements,” Jotaro complimented.

“She is,” Lily sighed, “which makes it even harder for Noriaki and I to adapt to this new parenthood.”

“Yeah,” Kakyoin agreed. “Last night, she had lifted herself out of her crib, and gotten into the cookie jar. And when she starts crying, oh boy,” he lifted his hands up, “everything starts flying all over the place, and it takes forever to calm her down.”

“She’s a little stinker sometimes,” Lily said to Emily, grabbing and tickling her, which made her laugh. “But we wouldn’t trade it for anything. Well, I wouldn’t.”

“I wouldn’t, either,” Kakyoin added. “We just need to raise her a little differently.”

“Well, enough about that, we have to find Josuke,” Jotaro reminded them. “That’s what we’re here for, remember?”

“Yes, we remember,” Lily laughed, grabbing her daughter’s hand. “Come on, Emily.”

As the four of them were walking, Jotaro accidentally ran into a small boy who had a high school uniform on. The boy was knocked back, but Jotaro used Star Platinum to set him back on his feet.

“Sorry, I didn’t see you there,” Jotaro told the boy.

“It’s fine,” he answered, “but I could’ve sworn I was knocked down, and everything in my pencil bag fell out.”

“Maybe it was just your imagination,” Kakyoin approached the high schooler. “My name’s Noriaki Kakyoin. This is my friend Jotaro Kujo, and those two are my wife and kid, Lily and Emily.”

“Nice to meet you. I’m Koichi Hirose.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, too,” Lily shook Koichi’s hand. “I hate to be a bother, but do you know a Higashikata around here? Maybe a residence?”

“No, ma’am,” Koichi answered. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine,” Jotaro said. “Well, we should be on our way.”

“Hold on,” Lily growled. “What are those kids doing over there?”

From where she was pointing, there were multiple third years all closed in on a first year, shouting mean things and just being bullies to him.

“What do you think you’re doing?” one of the third years, most likely the leader of this posse, scoffed.

“Well, I noticed a turtle by the fountain,” the first year calmly explained, “and so I thought I’d get over my fear of reptiles by touching its shell.”

“That’s not what I meant, dipstick!” The third year kneed the first year’s face. “Why don’t you tell us your name, moron?”

“This is unforgivable!” Lily fumed, hands tightly clenched in fists.

“Now, Lily,” Kakyoin put a hand on his wife’s shoulder. “I know you have a strong sense of justice, but-“

“It’s Josuke,” the first year answered. “Josuke Higashikata.”

All three of the adults stopped what they were doing and stared at this first year.

“Josuke?” Jotaro gasped. “Is that what he said his name was?”

“Well, Josuke,” the third year snarled, “you better take off those clothes. Last time someone wore those, I put them in the hospital.”

“Yes, sir,” Josuke bowed.

“And make it quicker, or we’ll have to shave off that stupid hairdo, too!”

That’s when Josuke froze in his tracks, a strange glare in his eye. “I’m sorry, what did you say about my hair?”

“I said that if you didn’t hurry up and take that uniform off, that stupid hairdo would have to be sha-“

The third year didn’t have time to finish his sentence, because Josuke punched him in the face, harder than any human should be able to.

“Wait,” Kakyoin sputtered, “was that what I thought I saw?”

“It couldn’t have been,” Jotaro murmured.

“Could it have been?” Lily marveled.

“Mommy!” Emily exclaimed. “Mommy! He had a Stand!”

The child confirmed what everyone else was thinking. This boy was, indeed, a Stand user.

The most amazing part of it all was that the third year’s nose was healing itself, contorting back to where it originally was. However, it healed itself a little strange, so the boy’s nose was all messed up now.

“Josuke Higashikata,” Jotaro confronted the boy.

“This is the part where we leave,” Lily whispered to Koichi.

“What? Why?”

“Family business,” Kakyoin answered him. “Apparently, Josuke is the illegitimate son of Jotaro’s grandfather, Joseph Joestar, and that’s the reason why Jotaro came. It would be rude of us to tune in to those conversations if we weren’t a part of the family, wouldn’t it?”

“I guess so,” Koichi muttered.

“Mommy, he had a Stand!” Emily said in delight. “Can I show him mine?”

“No, not right now,” Lily laughed, picking the little girl up.

“Stand?” Koichi wondered out loud.

“Ah, she’s said too much,” Lily muttered. “Well, I guess it won’t hurt you to know what a Stand is. You see, a Stand is a special part of certain people, and it gives them an ability most people don’t have. Most Stands are manifestations of people’s fighting spirits, as well, and have a physical appearance, but only to other Stand users.”

Koichi only stared in confusion.

“Um...” Lily was looking for an example. “Like Emily! She can, well, her Stand, Walking on Sunshine can, um, why don’t you show him, sweetie?”

Emily nodded, excited to show off her Stand for the second time today. This time, she activated it around a radius and made the three others float.

“What?!” Koichi exclaimed. “I’m flying! How is this possible?”

“With Stand power!” Kakyoin said.

“And see this little bug?” Lily asked, pointing to a beetle flying in the air with them. “My Stand, Ace of Pentacles, can duplicate this, and have two copies of the exact same thing!” To prove her point, she did exactly what she said she could do, and now the bug had turned into two bugs.

“What is going on?!” Koichi shouted.

“Okay, Emily, let us down, now,” Kakyoin told the girl. “That’s what Stands can do,” he explained to Koichi. “They allow the user to do something incredible. Supernatural, even. I would show you my power, but there’s not much that non-Stand users can see. Just trust me, I have one.”

“Okay,” Koichi replied. After a couple minutes of the four walking in silence, he spoke again. “Wait, if you’re not here to deal with Josuke, then why are you here?”

Lily and Kakyoin looked at each other, silently asking the other to tell Koichi their reason for arriving. Eventually, Kakyoin sighed, and started explaining everything.

“There’s someone in your town that has a Stand,” he said, “and he’s using it for evil. We’re here, curtesy of the Speedwagon Foundation, to investigate this matter, and hopefully bring this guy to justice.”

“And you brought your child with you?”

“We had to,” Lily defended her and Kakyoin. “What would happen if the babysitter saw everything floating around?”

“You have a point,” Koichi muttered.

“Well, enough about that. You don’t want to be late for school!” Kakyoin smiled at the high schooler, and patted his back as he rushed off to the bus.

“Thank you, Mr. and Mrs. Kakyoin!” Koichi yelled as he ran. “Good luck!”

The couple waved to Koichi until he was out of sight.

“Do you think we let too much slip?” Lily asked.

“Probably,” Kakyoin answered. “Well, nothing we can do about it now. Let’s go check in at the hotel.”

When the three arrived to their hotel room, they immediately started setting up Emily’s crib. After all, she needed to have a nap soon.

“Alright,” Kakyoin began, “one of us will watch over Emily, and the other will go check up on Jotaro and hopefully find Angelo.”

“Yeah,” Lily answered. “Which one would you rather do?”

“Well, it’s not about who would rather do it, but who’s more suited for the job,” Kakyoin replied. “You could save anyone who’s being threatened if you go find Angelo, and if Emily starts crying and makes everything float about, I can save the stuff from breaking with Hierophant.”

“But I know you’ve wanted to use your Stand for more than just entertaining Emily,” Lily countered. “You deserve it. I’ll stay and watch over her.”

“I won’t let you take pity on me,” Kakyoin laughed. “I’ll be fine, just go. After all, we need a healer for the team. What’ll happen if that healer is busy?”

“Fine,” Lily purred. “I’ll go.” She gave Kakyoin a kiss on the lips, gave Emily a goodbye hug, and headed out the door.

“Don’t get in too much trouble!” Kakyoin said before she was out of range. Lily turned back, and gave Kakyoin a big smile.

“I won’t,” she giggled. “Have fun!”

#oc #crusader of life #diamond is unbreakable #jojo's bizarre adventure #fanfiction #my fanfiction

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littlebitoffanfic · 5 years

Text

Playing The Part

Fandom: The Hills Have Eyes Characters: Lizard, others mentioned Relationship: Lizard/reader Request: Hm, maybe following the typical she was kept from one of their wrecks, and being trapped. Maybe she had some sort of skill that provided something to the village, or she was one of the few to have a successful delivery and was kept alive? I'm not sure. Yes, but like full textbook Stockholm Syndrome. He would kill her if she weren't needed and convenient to him, and she starts to cling to his rare moments of tenderness thinking he loves her maybe? A.N: im have some ideas for a part two as well.

You couldn’t pinpoint the moment that you fell completely into the role you were playing. You couldn’t tell when your feelings went from pretend to real or when you genuinely started to believe that you really wanted this life. That you really wanted him. In that start, it was a game of survival. You played your part well, so well that even you began to believe it. You couldn’t remember much between standing at the gas station talking to the old owner to waking up in a dark room, your ankle tied to the bed.

---------------- flashback ----------------------

You were awaken by a pain in your head. The world around you felt like it was spinning and, for a moment, you thought you were just waking up from a bad night of drinking. But nothing felt the same. The bed was uncomfortable, the smell unpleasant and your skin felt grotty and dirty. Lulling your head to the side, you blinked, trying to focus your eyes. The room you were in was dull, with only the tattered old bed with no bedding on it which your ankles were bound to, a dresser unit and closet in the corner. You had little time to take in your surroundings as you heard heavy footsteps coming from the other side of the door. It swung open to reveal a large man who you later found out was called Pluto, followed by a skinner, smaller man, Lizard. Both were deformed, making you wince a little when you first saw them. Lizard stood at the door, waiting impatiently as Pluto unbound your legs. “C’mon.” Lizard snarled at Pluto, who huffed, pulling you to your feet and pushing you out of the room. You stumbled, barely able to comprehend what had happened as you were roughly guided through the hallway and down some stairs. At the bottom was a young looking girl, Ruby, watching you with wide eyes. Lizard pushed you down the last few steps, making you nearly fall into her. Pluto, protecting her, grabbed your arm and hauled you into the living area, where you met Jupiter. “First things first, we will kill you if you don’t do as we say, so don’t think of runnin’ or trying to fight us.” Jupitar grumbled as he, like the other two, towered over you. Nodding your head, you confirmed that you wouldn’t rebel. “Good. Look, we aint gonna hurt you if you’re useful.” Jupiter sat down on the edge of a chair, watching you carefully. Both Pluto and Lizard stood behind you, in an intimidating fashion. “How, how can I be useful?” you asked, your throat so dry that you had to start again. “Heard you’re good with cars. Got limited transport out here so we gotta keep on top of the cars we have. But the new ones are provin’ harder for us to fix. Plus, some medical knowledge would certainly be handy.” His eyes darted to Pluto, who you had noticed had a nasty infection in his eyes with a lot of puss. You assumed by the way his face and skull looked that he was deformed, but seemed to have a bit more swelling than normal. “How do…” you trailed off as you suddenly remembered the gas station owner. You had spoken to him for a bit and you told him about your medical background as well as your interest in cars. You had laughed with him, making a remark that a body is just a machine and can be fixed most of the time. Somehow, he was part of this. Somehow, he had told them about you and, somehow, that had kept you alive. “The human body is just like a car. It can be fixed if you know what you’re doing.” You nod to yourself, suddenly understanding exactly why you were here. Why you hadn’t been slaughtered. A voice whispered in the back of your mind. ‘play the part’. Keep yourself alive, play the role they want you to for now.

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

And so you had. You had played your part well. So well that you had somehow managed to fool even yourself. As you fought to earn trust from each of the family, you found a sense of joy when you realized it was working. Pluto and Ruby had been the easiest since you had spent the most time with them at the start. You cleaned up Plutos right eye, ridding the infection and allowing him to see slightly out of it. At first, his size and stature had intimidated you the most, but you quickly realized that he was a gentle giant, only looking out for his family. Ruby followed you wherever you went, with strict orders to report if you escaped. But you ended up watching out for her more often than not. Like when she had stumbled and nearly fell. You had managed to grab her arm, saving her. She thanked you but you waved it off, not knowing Goggle had seen the whole thing and reported back to the family that you had saved Ruby. That certainly helped your status. Lizard, on the other hand, had kept you at arms length when he wasn’t pushing you out the way. He would sneer at you, often leaving a room when you entered. You had seen his anger in full swing and tried to keep out of the way of it, but something else drew you to him. It was almost like a challenge. Like when you find a stray dog that barks and bites at you, but you could see something other than a deranged dog. That was Lizard. At least to you. you started small, with baked goods. Ones which you would give to everyone just to ease him into your new presence within the family. Then you moved on to more direct ways of helping him. When you were dropping off a new radio at Jupiter request, you found Lizard passed out on the sofa. You had slowly managed to remove his gloves from his hands. They were tattered and wore with massive holes in them. Taking them back to yours, you sew the holes shut and washed them, so they were clean. When you took them back, you didn’t both trying to put them back on. You left them on the table as well as pull the blanket over him. Lizard never acknowledged what you had done, nor did he ever. Not when you had mended his trousers or tops, or when you had managed to fix his spikes. But he did allow you to get… closer to him. He would stay in the same room as you, and even listen to your rambling while you were doing something rather than just cutting you off with a cruel “I don’t care”. That didn’t mean he had gone soft. Once, when you had been trying to figure out if a car was working again, you had turned it on and taken it for a drive to test it. And you hit spikes. Once you had managed to stop the car, the door swung open and you were hauled out by your hair. A hand wrapped around your throat and instantly began to cut off your air flow. You clawed at Lizards hand, thrashing as you tried to free yourself. In a moment of desperation, you threw your elbow back, swiftly jabbing him in the face and causing him to stumble back. Lizard, now with a bloody nose, managed to regain his footing. In three long, powerful strides, he walked up to you and slapped you across your face, so hard it caused you to fall to the ground with a cry. “Jupiter asked me to fix it. How else can I tell if its done?! You want Pluto taking it out and it exploding or some shit!” You cried out, adrenaline pumping through your body as you realized exactly what had happened. You placed a hand over your now burning cheek. Daringly, you look up at Lizard who was trying to wipe the blood away from his nose. But he wasn’t coming after you anymore, which meant he knew you weren’t trying to escape. Or, at least, had good enough reason to be in the car. “Tilt your head back.” You mumbled, stumbling to your feet as you rubbed your cheek. You were quite proud in some strange way. You had certainly gotten your own back, even if Lizard had landed the final blow. At least you weren’t bleeding. But you knew you had to make the next move. There was no point keeping any grudge or letting this carry on, especially after how far you had come. Pulling off the cardigan, you approached him like you were approaching a wolf. You kept a close eye on his movements as his attention was fully on yours. Gently, you used the cardigan sleeve to wipe away the blood from around his warped lip. He watched you like a hawk. Suddenly, he grabbed a hold of your wrist, squeezing it so tightly that you winced. “I’ll kill you if you ever try to escape.” Lizard suddenly growled but something felt… off. He had threatened you a thousand times before with real hatred in his voice. But this time, he sounded like he was trying to convince you, or maybe himself. “Im sure you will.” You nod, not daring to doubt him despite the change. “But, if Im not trying to, I’ll argue my case. In any way I can.” You look up at him, right into his piercing blue eyes. The bleeding had stopped, but you used the opportunity to be this close to him physically to speak to him. It felt a lot more intimate and maybe that would drive home what you said. “I might listen.” He partly sneered, but again, it was different. It felt almost as if it were a friendly joke as he let go of your wrist. A smile spread across your features as you laughed a little, but the adrenaline of the situation plus the blazing heat of the dessert plus your empty stomach seemed to have truly taken its effect as your giggles turned to full on laugher as you stepped back. “Yer insane.” Lizard remarked, but a small smile twitched at his lips, as if he found it endearing or something. “Look whos talking.” You giggle as you start to walk towards the car, throwing the bloodied cardigan in the open door. You didn’t see Lizard looking after you, or how his eyes travelled down your body, lingering in certain areas. But something snapped your attention in the distance. “Shit.” You mumbled, backing towards Lizard who followed your line of sight. A car was travelling down the road. “At least you have some bait.” You try to lift your uneasiness at the situation. You never got involved with kills. Never. “Get up tah Goggle. Don’t fuckin’ run. Yah hear me?!” Lizard demanded as he grabbed your arm, shaking you slightly. “Yes.” You nod, your eyes darting to the wrecked car before Lizard let you go, allowing you to run into the hills. Of course, Goggle had alerted everyone and within 3 hours, it was all over. The event did open a new level in terms of your relationship with Lizard. You quickly found that you actually preferred his company out of everyone elses. He had a dark sense of humour which only you seemed to be able to bring out. And you loved that. As you gained more trust in the village and, in turn, gained more responsibilities. Big Brain still hated you, but after some sharp looks from Big Mama (who had taken to you after she saw how much the children, Pluto and Ruby adored you), he became quieter. Of course, he would mumble to himself every time you entered the room, but you started responding as if he were speaking to you in normal conversations. “Breakfast.” He sneered one morning when you had been looking for Big Mamas brush. “Good morning.” You called, chirpily. “Do you want the curtains open?” “Weak, filthy.” His eyes followed you round the room. “How about just the back ones. so you don’t get the sun in your eyes when it hits 11.” You nod to yourself as you briskly walk across the room and pull open the curtain. “Crazy.” He sneered. “I slept well, thank you.” You smile and nod, using the time to pretending that you were having a conversation with anyone who would actually cared. But slowly, over time, you noticed he stopped with the truly nasty names. He started making demands like “open those curtains” or “I want water”. You always fulfilled the requests because, despite his nasty personality, you did feel sorry for him. He was trapped in this little room, unable to do much. “What if we painted this room?” you suddenly asked one morning, looking around at the faded wallpaper. “Don’t care.” He sneered, a little too quickly for you. “Well, how about florescent pink?” You asked, smirking at him, getting an immediate and resounding “NO!”. But he thought about it when you left, and when you returned that evening, he said one word to you. “Blue.” “Im sorry?” You ask, having been in a world of your own. “Blue. Like the sky.” He tried to spit the words at you, to make it sound like he was berating you for not listening to him. But when you looked at him, he couldn’t hold your gaze. “Do you want the ceiling done as well?” you ask, genuinely happy he seemed to be responding well to you. He barley tolerated his own family, so this was a big step. “Yeah.” He wheezed seeming a lot more relaxed from them on. OF course, when you walked up to Jupiter who was standing talking with Lizard and Goggle and asked for blue paint, you got some strange looks. “Why the fuck you want that?” Lizard snapped, obviously in the middle of a heated discussion with his father and brother. “To decorate Big Brains room. He didn’t like florescent pink so blue it is.” You tell them. Goggle cackled at the idea of painting the room pink, and you were honestly scared that he would get his hands on pink paint and do it just to piss Big Brain off. But he didn’t. Within the week, you had done the room. You never got a thanks, but Big Brain showed you he was grateful in other ways. Like not interrupting or snapping at you. Of course, once he was on your side, there was a change. And you started to be included in the killing. First, you joined Goggle as look out. And became fascinated with something you shouldn’t be. Watching Lizard as he killed. There was something so strong and primal about it that made your insides turn. He was violent and you noticed he was worse when you were around. As he was trying to prove something. Goggle told his brother about how your eyes never left him. Somehow, he fell into a pattern of coming up to you after a kill, where his hands are bloody, and touching you. Normally on the cheek and just in passing, leaving blood smeared on your face. What was worse was that you wanted more. You started to crave that touch which you knew would happened. The first few times, you and winced and rushed away to clean it off, but then you started getting to obsessed with Lizard to notice till he had left. He had just killed someone with his bare hands, in the most violent ways, but he was gentle when he touched your cheek. Almost affectionate. The touches started to send shiver through your body as you craved him more than you had ever know possible. Then, Jupiter made an announcement. On the next kill, you were to accompany Ruby down to the wreck. She would normally scout things out, running around and figuring out who had what but not getting her hands dirty. You could do that. It was late, nearly midnight, when Goggle called in a car coming along the road. It was a race to get ready before the others and meeting them at the edge of town. As you all raced to the road, Lizard had grabbed your arm. “Don’t do anythin’ stupid or get in the way.” He hissed in your ear, squeezing your arm a little too tightly, but you nodded anyway. “Good. Aint worth losing your head over ‘em.” As if to emphasize his point, Lizard pulled out the gun, letting the moonlight catch the silver before following Jupiter and Pluto while you were left to Ruby. She showed you the places to hid and sneak between as she gathers her information. “Wait here.” She whispered to you before disappearing into the hills, leaving you behind the bolder. You kept peeking out, keeping an eye on the situation. 5 males, mid 20s and they smelt stoned out of their heads. It should be pretty easy for Lizard and Pluto. Of course, Lizard got to one of the guys quickly, making him cry out of Lizard wrapped the spikes he had gathered back from the road around the mans neck. The friends when into panic and that allowed Pluto to get in and grab one, dragging him over to Lizard who dropped the body of the first. Shots filled the air as Lizard shot two in the leg for attempting to run. So one was dead, the second with Pluto and the third and fourth injured. But the fifth ? You had blinked and he was gone. Stepping out from behind the bolder, you looked around wildly. He had been near you, on the road. Where had he gone? Shit. Then your eyes caught the movement and saw the guy scramble behind the rock on the other side of the road just past the car. That didn’t worry you. What worried you was the knife in his hand. Shit, you had to follow him. That’s what you were there to do, right? You moved towards the road, your only motive to find out where the guy had gone. What if he snuck around the rock? What if he was watching for someone? Ducking behind the car, you didn’t think the other two had noticed you. You should have called out where you were going, but you wanted to please the family. Three more gunshots filled the air as Lizard headshot each of them remaining ones. If you bought home a kill, or at least kept tabs on a victim, that would certainly do you a favour. It would impress them. It would impress Lizard. Then you saw the man run to the next rock, and you panicked. He was making his way around. Taking off in a sprint, you knew if he got into the gap in the hills, it would be hell to find in the low light with only the headlights of the car to work by. No, you had to keep close to him. A hand grabbed you by the hair and hauled you backwards. You let out a screech of pain, your hands flying up to try and free yourself. “Where yah goin’?” Lizards voice hissed in your ear and you felt your blood run cold. No, no, no, this was going to earn trust, not break it. Panting slightly, you could hear the anger in his voice. And he wasn’t one you could reason with easily. “I-I was going to help you.” You stammered, tears starting to prick your eyes. “Liar.” The voice condemned your statement and then you felt a sharp pain in the back of your knees. Lizard kicked your legs, making you collapse to the floor as he let go of your hair. A click made your heart stop as you look up. Lizard moved in front of you and stood over you, a gun pointed right at your forehead. He had stepped in front of you, blocked your view. You had to think quick. “You’ve only got one bullet left, and I’d suggest saving it for the guy hiding behind that rock.” You tried to keep your voice from shaking, but failed half was through your sentence. The barrel of the gun pressed against your forehead, the metal cold against your heated skin. “Liar.” Lizard snarled, his voice low as he glared down at you. But movement from behind him caught your attention. Glancing past him, you saw the man. Except, instead of running away, he was running toward you with a knife in his hand. Oh god. You realised that it looked like you were a victim, just like his friends. He was going to get Lizard while he was distracted with you. Oh god. You acted quick, so quick that you didn’t get a chance to think. Your instincts kicked and took over your body. With a quick slapped, you managed to knock the gun away from your head and you moved quickly upwards onto your feet. Grabbing the knife from Lizards belt, you used all the force from your quick movement to knock Lizard to the side just as the guy got within a foot of you both. Raising the knife, you brought it down and into the side of his neck. All this took place in the space of seconds as the man starts to splutter. The knife he had was dropped to the ground as he gasped for air. As if to finish the kill, you pulled the knife out of his neck and stumbled back. The full weight of what just happened hit you. You were now a killer. There was no going back. But you had killed to save Lizard. This was all just meant to be a game, an act to try survive. But then why did you feel a genuine concern for him that went beyond just feeling it, but to the point you would kill for him. Your mind raced as you forgot where you were. Until you felt a palm on your cheek. jumping, you saw Lizard standing in front of you, his eyes trained on your face while his hand moved over your right cheek. You felt his thumb brush under your eye, making you think he was just wiping away tears, but as his hand pulled back slightly, you saw blood. Some blood must had splattered on your face during the kill. Lizard stepped closer, his other hand coming up to grasp at the back of your neck as his front pressed against you. The thumb with the blood lowered to your lips and you felt him gently brush your bottom lip as he silently commanded something of you. Opening your mouth slightly, you allowed him to push his thumb past your lips to meet your tongue. Closing your lips around his thumb, you gently sucked and licked, cleaning it. Lizards eyes never left your own, but his mouth opened slightly and something much more primal stirred in both of you. Pulling his thumb back, he ran his hand in to your hair as he grabbed a handful and crashed his lips onto your own. Rough and dominating, you allowed yourself to completely submit to him in a selfish desire for something completely fucked up and insane. You… wanted him. kissing him back, you pressed against him, raising your hands to his chest as you grabbed fistfuls of his top. A soft snarl left his throat as he pulled away from your lips, simultaneously pulled your hair to tilt your head backwards. Ducking his head, Lizard slowly licked the side of your neck, where more blood must have splattered. Looked up at the stars above, you couldn’t help the coy smile at pulled at your lips. “I don’t mind it when you pull my hair like this.” You said, playfully, like the two of you were in some nightclub or bar, not standing beside a body. A body that had been forgotten about. You felt Lizard smirk against your neck and a soft chuckle left his lip. You didn’t know what you had gotten yourself in for, but the thrill of the moment silenced any doubts or worries you had.

#lizard #the hills have eyes #lizard x reader

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