#I’m blaming this on mild sleep deprivation | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

hallowxiu · 3 years

Text

A Chance Meeting

pairing: human!mammon/demon!gn!mc

word count: 5.6k

summary: Never one for fate, you run into Mammon for a second time, albeit in a less than ideal scenario.

a/n: tw: there are mentions of pocket knives and mugging in this one shot.

part two of the demon!mc and human!mammon series.

part one

“Wow,” Satan comments as he steps into the kitchen, looking around at the disarray of all the dishes on the counters and in the sink. “This is the eighth day in a row you’ve been on cooking duty. And for all meals too, what did you do to piss off Lucifer so bad?” A sheepish smile formed on your lips and you can hear more footsteps coming towards the kitchen.

“You’re on cooking duty again? I miss Lucifer’s cooking!” Asmodeus stomps his foot and there’s a pout on his lips. You roll your eyes in response, but you didn’t exactly blame your younger brother. Your cooking wasn’t… the best. It certainly wasn’t the worst by any means, but it also wasn’t something you’d want for a week straight.

“Ah, well, you better get used to my cooking for the next several months. It’s my punishment.” You felt like crying on the spot. Too much cooking, way too much cooking. And to keep Beelzebub fed for so many days? That within itself was a punishment. Satan quirked an eyebrow at your news.

“What in the Devildom did you possibly do?”

“I uh, well, you see…” You didn’t want to explain this to your brothers, especially the two of them. They were quite ruthless when it came to gossip.

“Aren’t you supposed to be our role model? No wonder he’s stricter with the punishments.” There’s a cheeky grin on Asmodeus’ face and his eyes twinkle with amusement as he tries to piece together what you must’ve done.

“Then again, he favors you most, so your punishments aren’t that bad in comparison to ours.” Satan chimes in where Asmodeus left off. With a sigh, you decide to tell them. You knew they’d never leave you alone if you didn’t.

“I snuck off to the human realm.”

Silence.

Yeah, you should have expected that. In fact, you were. “Oh, well, yeah, that’ll do it.” Is all Asmodeus says before leaving the room. “Make something good tonight! I’m hungry, but don’t make it so oily this time! My skin is starting to suffer because of you!” You shake your head at Asmodeus, though you make the mental note anyway. One less person angry with you would be ideal, after all. You pause when you notice Satan still lingering by the entryway of the kitchen.

“What’s up?” You ask while you open the fridge, your eyes scanning for potential ingredients. You had no idea what to make; you exhausted your options after the second day. It’s a miracle you’ve managed to make it this long already.

“Why do you want to go to the human realm? To my understanding, you were never the type before that showed any particular interest in humans. I was told that it was Lilith and Belphegor’s route of interest.” Leave it to Satan to be the most curious. You were hardly surprised, after all, Satan was the only one who was never an angel, the only one who never met Lilith, and the only one who never experienced first hand the shit show that went down the day leading to everyone falling. You knew the other brothers rarely talked to him about their previous life, and you wondered if that ever upset him. However, being the doting older sibling, you didn’t like the idea of Satan feeling left out. If anything, he got all the details from you.

“I wanted to know what Lilith liked about humans so much, why she was willing to put everything on the line for one.” You answer your brother honestly. “Belphegor as well, I was hoping maybe that’d help me get closer with him. I know you don’t know from experience, but he wasn’t always this hostile and bitter. I’m not sure if the others told you, but he also adored humans just as much as Lilith. The two of them frequented the human realm together all the time.”

Satan seems to be soaking in the information like a sponge. You’re sure he’s grateful for the new information and while you knew he’d never tell you, he hated feeling left out with everyone. Maybe this would help him feel closer with the others. “I did not know that, although I suppose that would make sense. Beelzebub tells me a bit about Lilith and Belphegor every now and then. He always looks a little depressed when talking about them, so I assumed Belphegor changed compared to before.” You nod your head to Satan’s conclusion. “Did you find what you were looking for?” Images of the white-haired man suddenly flood your brain and you fight off a creeping blush that threatens to spread on your face. Did you find what you were looking for? You found something, but that doesn’t exactly answer the question.

“I don’t know.” You answer honestly once again. “I had only been down twice when Lucifer busted my ass. You know how he can be.” You sigh while putting containers of various ingredients on the counter. “Honestly, this is a pretty mild punishment for what I did.” Satan scoffs in response. You knew he’d disagree with anything having to do with the eldest brother. “That being said, I would like to go back.” Satan’s green eyes look at you in curiosity. You? The second eldest going against Lucifer? Now that’s something you don’t see every day. “I met a human there,” you try to tread carefully, “and we didn’t get off on the best foot.”

“So?” The blond looks at you with a head tilt. “Why would you care whether or not you got off on the wrong foot with a human?” You supposed it was hard for a demon to understand why this would matter. Then again, you were a demon and you didn’t even understand why this mattered to you. “Please don’t tell me you don’t know again.” He groans from your silence. “This is hardly interesting at this point. If you’re going to get in trouble with Lucifer, you might as well make it something good.”

“Sorry my life is too boring for your standards.” You snort while prying off a lid. “But it’s the truth. He was nice enough for a human.” Cute too, but Satan didn’t need to know that.

“Well.” a sigh leaves your brother, “keep me updated if you end up going back. Not that I find this interesting or anything. I just like pissing off Lucifer.” You chuckle to yourself once the other leaves. You thought his thinly veiled attempts of keeping track of your personal life was cute, even if he’d rather die than admit it. A sigh leaves you once you bring your attention back to the dilemma in front of you. Right, you’d have to get through this first.

You’re on your bed, fingers drumming along the back of your D.D.D case. You were bored out of your mind and done with cooking duty for the day. It was late into the night and most of your brothers would be asleep by now, so why weren’t you? An annoyed breath of air escapes you and you turn on your side. You can’t get that damned kid out of your head. Had he put some kind of curse on you? You thought the thought was nothing but that at first, a silly thought, but now that you can’t even sleep because of this mere human, your sleep-deprived state thinks it might be a little more serious than a passing thought.

You push yourself to sit up. You rub at your eyes groggily and you internally debate whether or not you should return to the human realm. The odds of Mammon being out and about were extremely slim, especially since the hour over there would also be ungodly. You were anxious for some reason, your body wanting to get up and start the day despite it being only a quarter past three in the morning. You were never one to believe in fate or get worked up over it, but your body was in panic mode and you had little to no idea why. You weren’t the type to get anxious over nothing either, and you thought you knew your body well enough as it was, but it seems you were mistaken. With a sigh, you close your eyes and prepare yourself for the future lecture you’d be sure to get. You already knew where you planned to go.

The air was cold, biting at your skin as you found yourself standing in the middle of the empty streets. You were back in the city you had visited the last two times, though something seemed… off. You couldn’t place as to what, but it was enough to send alarms throughout your body. You walked down the streets, for once regretting that you didn’t bring a jacket. Did demons tend to become more sensitive with each time they traveled to the human realm? You never remembered being this cold before.

Your eyes scanned over the closed stores, not a single soul out on the streets. You didn’t realize that even the city got this empty at night; you were expecting at least a few people here and there. It’s when you’d been walking for about ten minutes that you heard a commotion from one of the back alleys. Your eyebrow quirked and you paused in place. Should you get involved? As a demon, you didn’t want to meddle with humans too much, not if they weren’t Mammon or if you weren’t needed. Besides, what would your reputation turn to if you were caught helping humans in need whenever they were in trouble? Just keep going, that’s what you ended up telling yourself.

“Oi, whaddya think you’re doin’? Get your dirty hands off me!”

Okay, fuck that. Scratch every single thought that was previously in your head; it’s up in flames now. You found yourself rushing towards the source of the noise with your eyes blown wide as you frantically searched for the human you hoped wasn’t the one in trouble. “Mammon?” You shouted into the night. Every nerve was going off and you were just barely keeping your demon form back. You heard Mammon calling out for you and it kicked you into overdrive. You’re by his side in a second, pulling him away from a group of three men. “What the hell is going on here?”

“These annoyin’ assholes are tryna steal my money! A man can’t even walk home in peace without gettin’ mugged! Can ya believe that shit?” Still, you didn’t miss the way he inched closer to you as he anxiously glanced between the three of them.

“I thought your job closed in the evening?” You asked incredulously as you managed to put space between Mammon and the strangers.

“I have two jobs! Ya ever tried livin’ in a city? Do we even need to be discussin’ this right now?” Your eyes caught a glimpse of something shining and you abruptly moved in front of Mammon when noticing it was a pocket knife.

“We only planned on roughing him up a bit.” The man with the weapon explained, a smirk on his lips as he took a step closer. “But since he got his friend involved to make things more complicated, I think we’ll have to do a bit more than that.” You weren’t the least bit scared, but you needed to keep in mind that Mammon was a human and that the boy could easily get hurt if things went wrong.

“Get a job like him and you won’t need to mug people for the holidays.” You deadpan, Mammon gasping behind you.

“Are ya tryna get us killed? God, ya shoulda just kept walkin’!” Your eyebrow twitched in annoyance but you choose to ignore him for the time being. Did humans always have to be so ungrateful when they were in the middle of being aided?

Realistically, there were a few ways to go about this. The obvious and easiest one involved you shifting into your demon form, but then you’d have to kill three humans and scar Mammon. The cons were outweighing the pros, no matter how fast the situation would be resolved. The second option would be to fight them in your current form, which wouldn’t be too much of a problem as your strength wasn’t in question, but you’d still more than likely end up killing the three humans and traumatizing Mammon. He’d also probably want to call the police. Too much of a hassle for you.

Finally, you could just… scare them. They’d run away, Mammon would be safe, and no one would end up dead. The only con would be if Mammon ended up seeing how you planned on scaring them, but that was your last option and you didn’t have a ton of time to come up with any others on the spot. “Mammon,” you turned your head slightly so that you could see him, “stay where you are, okay? Don’t move and don’t get in front of me.” If you could do this with him standing behind you, that would be the ideal situation. When he nodded his head in confirmation, you closed your eyes and let out a sigh. The three men were advancing slowly, thrown off by your calm demeanor. It’s when you opened your eyes again that you could feel your face begin to shift and transform into something else, a form a demon only takes when their aim was, to put it bluntly, to scare the shit out of humans.

Naturally, when seeing your face, the three men dropped their weapons and ran, yelling and screaming the entire way until you were sure they were gone. Just as fast as you had transformed your face, you averted it back to its original form, turning around to face Mammon. “Are you alright? They didn’t hurt you, did they?” Now that you could properly analyze him, you had noticed he was covered with dirt and scratches, but other than that he seemed to be free of any major injuries. The man’s dazed as you looked him over, your hands pulling at his clothes and running through his hair to make sure you didn’t accidentally miss anything fatal.

“They just roughed me up a little, that’s all. Ya know, grabbin’ my hair and shit and throwin’ me on the ground. All that fun stuff.” You could tell he was shaken up, but other than that your human seemed to be in good health.

Wait. Your human? Why did you think that? It’s fine, just ignore it, it was probably just a slip-up. You’re panicked, after all, there’s no need to worry-

“How’d ya scare them off like that anyway?”

“Uh, I showed them a bigger pocket knife.” It was a lame excuse, but it’s what you had to work with.

“Oh, okay.” You’re thanking everything in the universe that he didn’t question you further on that. At the same time though…

“You really should question things more. Who knows what could gobble you up out here. How’d you even end up in this situation? Did they tell you to follow them?” You couldn’t help but mother hen him. Even though he admitted to being alright, and that it checked out, you were still worried over this fragile little human that needed your help and protection at all costs. Yes, that’s it. You were being generous with your time and helping a human out, that was all it was. He would owe you, that was for sure.

“What-- are you seriously grillin’ me right now? What happened to not victim blamin’ and shit, huh? They didn’t say shit to me! They just came up on me like I was a plate of steak and they were all starved dogs!” Interesting comparison, you note duly. “Next thing I know, I’m gettin’ dragged into some shady ass alley and they’re tryna steal all my shit! The joke’s on them, I’m flat broke anyway. They would have killed me and still walked away with jackshit.” That did little to ease your concerns. It amplified them.

“How are you still alive?” It was a question for yourself, but based on Mammon’s facial expression, you said it out loud.

“I’ll have ya know I’m great at self-defense! I didn’t need ya runnin’ to my aid like I was some damsel in distress or somethin’.” There was a red tint to his cheeks, but you weren’t sure if that was because of what just happened.

“Right.” You sighed and crossed your arms over your chest. You glanced at the time on your D.D.D, ignoring the fact that Mammon was sending your phone a glare. Right, probably because I made up that lie the other day. You needed to get back home; should Lucifer find out you left yet again, he would have your head on a stick. At the same time, however, you didn’t feel comfortable leaving Mammon alone after he nearly got mugged. “Where do you live?” Consequences be damned, you weren’t letting anything else happen to this human.

“Huh?”

“Where do you live?” You repeated yourself as if it were a normal question to ask someone outside in an alley past three in the morning. “You don’t think I’m letting you walk home alone after all that, do you?” There’s a sly grin on your lips when Mammon begins to practically have a temper tantrum over your words. “Why are you so upset? I’m trying to make sure you don’t get mugged again. You could at least thank me.” Why were humans so ungrateful and complicated? “The quicker you stop throwing a complete fit, the sooner we get you back home.”

“I am not a child!”

“I never said you were.”

“You’re implyin’ it!”

“I’m doing no such thing.”

You decided to dial back the teasing in case he pops a blood vessel. With a sigh, you turned around on your heels. “Alright, alright. I’ll leave you alone now. Just be careful and keep your guard up.” There was no way in hell you were going to leave him alone. If anything you’d just follow him in the shadows until you knew he was safe and sound. Stalkerish? Yes, possibly, but the right intentions were there.

As you began to walk away, a timid hand reached out and grabbed at your wrist. “Alright, fine. You can come with me, but don’t misunderstand. I’m not scared or nothin’, I’m just doin’ this simply so you’ll leave me alone.” A lopsided grin forms on your face when you look at his cute expression. Yeah, you were in trouble.

The walk was mostly filled with silence, the two of you strolling along side-by-side as you kept an eye out for any more potential threats. Mammon seemed less anxious now that you were with him, and that put a part of you at ease. The walking came to an abrupt stop and you looked up from the ground to view an apartment complex that you assumed Mammon lived in. “This your place?” It looked like you’d be able to get home before Lucifer found anything out after all.

“Yeah.” He’s rubbing at his arms awkwardly as he lingers outside. “Uh, thanks for, uh, helpin’ me out and whatnot.”

“Of course.” You knew there was something he was holding back based on his posture. “What’s wrong? Did someone follow us?” You turned around to quickly scan the area, though nothing came up.

“What? No! I just, I was wonderin’, if-- look, it’s late out, yeah? And it’s cold as fuck and ya don’t have a jacket on, so, I don’t know, did ya maybe want to, possibly spend the night?” You froze in place, a look of pure shock on your face as you stared at the human. “It’s nothin’ sexual!” He practically cried out in embarrassment. “It’s just to repay ya for helpin’ me out! I swear!”

You rub at the back of your neck shyly as you glanced around. “Yeah, sure, I don’t mind if you don’t mind.” So much for getting back home early.

You slip your shoes off once you walked inside before awkwardly standing in the middle of his living room. What were you supposed to do now? You swore in all of your life you’ve never been so awkward before, and not around a human either. “Feel free to sit on the couch if you’d like.” Mammon offers as he quickly grabbed the trash from the coffee table. “I’ll get ya some blankets from the closet, pillows too.” You do as you're told and you sit down to avoid feeling awkward. You look around the room once he’s gone. It wasn’t… bad. Sure, it was nowhere near the size of the House of Lamentation, but it wasn’t awful, either. Pictures of him and his friends were framed on the walls, empty pizza boxes were stacked on the kitchen counter, and empty water bottles filled the recycling bin to the rim. He was a little messy, but then again he wasn’t expecting company, so you decided not to judge him for it. Not too much, anyway. There was a small television held up by a cardboard box across from the coffee table. You had to give him credit for creativity.

“Sorry that the place is a dump.” Mammon reenters the room with blankets piled up in his arms, as well as a change of clothes for you. “I usually clean up when company comes over, but obviously…” His voice trails off as you take the blankets and clothes from him.

“Thank you.” You smiled up at him and the red tint to his cheeks return.

“You’re welcome.” He huffed under his breath before disappearing once again. “Let me find ya some pillows. I have a few extra ones around here somewhere.” He calls out from down the hall. You look down at the clothes he gave you. A baggy plain shirt and a pair of sweatpants. It was better than sleeping in your clothes you supposed. You began to pull your shirt over your head so that you could properly change before Mammon came stumbling back into the room. “I found some- oh god! Oh god, I’m so sorry. I didn’t know you’d be changin’-- I have a bathroom, ya know. What the fuck am I even apologizin’ for? Who changes in the middle of someone’s livin’ room anyway?” You blink and looked over at a beet red Mammon who’s gripping onto the pillows for dear life, his eyes looking anywhere but at you. You didn’t understand the big deal, but then again, humans tended to react strangely to others who were naked or in the process of changing.

You slowly pulled your shirt back down and looked over at him again. “Sorry.” Is all you have to offer him.

“I,” it took him a second to recollect his bearings, “ya really aren’t from here, are ya?”

“No, I’m really not.”

“Right then…” He shifts on his feet uncomfortably before stuffing his hands into the pockets of his pants. “I brought you some pillows.” He dumps them into your lap before storming down the hall. “I’m goin’ to bed; don’t steal anythin’ or I’ll kick ya to the curb!” You rolled your eyes at his empty threat before grabbing your clothes and pillows. This would count as one of the strangest nights of your life.

You woke up to the sun shining in your face, something you weren’t accustomed to. You rubbed at your eyes sleepily before pausing. No, as odd as it may be to you, the sun was not the thing that woke you up. A sharp poke to your side makes you look over.

Yes, that’s what woke you up.

You look over from where you were lying on the couch to see Mammon’s foot more or less kicking your side. He wasn’t putting any force behind the kick, but it nonetheless made you raise an eyebrow. “Are you kicking me?” The man paused his ministrations when realizing you were awake.

“I thought you were dead.”

“What?”

“I don’t know; sometimes people die in their sleep. Was makin’ sure ya weren’t one of them? How would I explain that to the police?” You stared at Mammon in disbelief, the white-haired man growing red in response to your judgmental glare.

“Ya don’t need to be so rude.” He finally huffs out in response and turned around with his arms crossed over his chest. “Listen, I was just wakin’ ya up because I need to get goin’ to work soon and I can’t have ya stayin’ around unsupervised in case ya steal all of my shit and I come back to a cleaned out apartment.” Well, he was certainly blunt with what he was thinking.

You slowly sit up and grab your D.D.D. You figured it was still early in the morning since Mammon had once mentioned that he worked at the crack of dawn. If you were lucky, you could make it back home before Lucifer would notice.

And that’s when you remembered that you saw sunshine when you woke up.

With immediate panic, you unlock your phone to look at the time. To your horror, it was nearly eleven in the morning. Lucifer was awake and speaking of the devil himself, you had several missed calls and messages from your brothers, specifically from Lucifer. You bolted from where you were previously resting as Mammon watched before he stumbled back from your sudden movements. “What’s goin’ on?”

“I gotta go.” You quickly said as you scooped up your clothes and rushed towards the door. Clumsily slipping on your shoes, you turned back to him. “I’ll return your clothes to you another day. Make sure you don’t get mugged again on your way home. If you need to, buy some mace or pepper spray or something.” Before he could respond to your advice, you’re out his front door and running down the hall. You were so so screwed.

Screwed hadn’t even begun to cover it. You showed up in the clothes a human lent you, reeking of a human, still drowsy as you had just woken up not long ago, and just overall completely disheveled. On top of that, you knew Lucifer was awake, but you had hoped to arrive home at a time where he was out with Diavolo and you’d be able to shower and change before your inevitable lecture, which might have gotten you off a little easier.

Except that’s not what happened, as before you even unlocked the front door Lucifer swung it open. Now you were sitting in his office as Lucifer silently paced around his room. This had been going on for thirty minutes. You could tell your brothers were waiting on the other side of the door, trying to see if they could hear anything. You wanted to tell them not to hold their breath, but you were too nervous to move and unable to take your eyes off your eldest brother.

“I thought I told you not to go back to the human realm.” You quickly looked away when Lucifer locked on to your gaze. “Look at me when I’m talking to you; I will not repeat myself.” Hesitantly, you found yourself looking back over at him. “Answer me.” His tone was that of a warning, and you knew at that moment you were on thin ice.

“You did.”

“And yet I found your room empty last night, and your D.D.D nearly unreachable.” You opened your mouth to speak, but Lucifer raises a hand to keep you silent. “And then I found myself thinking, that out of all my siblings, you couldn’t have been that stupid to return to the human realm after I told you to stop.” You shifted uncomfortably under his gaze, and you lean back against the couch you were sitting on. You tried to shrink yourself, but that didn’t make Lucifer any less intimidating. “And then I thought, ‘Lucifer, don’t be so hard on them, maybe they needed a fresh breath of air. You can’t accuse your siblings of being up to something whenever they’re out of your sight. Surely they aren’t that bad.’” He quickened his pace as he circled the room. “But then after two hours you didn’t return, and something told me you yet again disobeyed me and returned to the very place I warned you not to go. Tell me, was watching Lilith and Belphegor suffer because humans not good enough for you? You were never a sibling I had to worry about before. You always listened to me and you helped me keep everyone in line. Why is it that now I have to keep my eye on you?” He stopped abruptly and rubbed at his temples.

You felt irritation stir deep inside you, though you bit back what you wanted to say. You knew Lucifer was getting worked up, and if you started an argument now, it wouldn’t end well for anyone involved. “I’m sorry.” Keeping the peace seemed like a better option for you at the moment. You knew what battles to pick, and this was not one of them. “I shouldn’t have lied to you and snuck out--”

“You came back in the clothes of a human.” Lucifer seethed. “You smelled like a human. Do you have a human lover? Are you seeing a human?” He looks at you with wide eyes, the demon looking like he was on the brink of insanity. “I will not watch someone I love fall because of humans. Not again. If you’re seeing a human then forget about it. It’s over.”

“I’m not involved with a human, Lucifer.”

“Then why are you wearing their clothes? Why do you smell more human than a demon? You were gone for an entire night!” You flinch when he raised his voice and he noticed, the demon then trying to dial it back somewhat. He never liked arguing with you even when you were the one in the wrong. Perhaps it was one of the perks of being the favorite? “If you were hunting humans you wouldn’t be gone all night. If you were just looking around you wouldn’t be gone all night! Tell me, what were you doing? Who were you with?” You swallow nervously and averted your gaze. Getting Mammon in trouble, and with Lucifer of all people, was not what you wanted to do. “I will not repeat myself. Who--”

“I’m not telling you who I was with.” This wasn’t usual for you. You didn’t talk back to Lucifer, you didn’t tell him no, and you certainly didn’t argue with him. But you knew if you gave him Mammon’s information, the human that you tried so desperately to save last night might be put in danger once again, but this time by your brother. It wasn’t a situation you wanted to get involved in, so you’d try and prevent it as best as possible.

“Pardon?” There’s a look of shock on his face, and you could almost hear one of your brother’s gasps from outside the door.

“I’m not going to tell you who I was with last night. Why would I? So you can kill him?” If looks could kill, you’d be dead right now.

“So it’s a man.”

You groaned at your brother’s response. Typical Lucifer. “Lucifer, I already apologized for going without your permission, but I’m an adult, and I’m not going to give you every little detail of what I did when I was in the human realm.”

“It’s the way you think that that suffices as an apology.” He states in disbelief. “You need to learn to stay in your place.”

“And where’s my place?”

“If you were smart, you’d learn quickly.” He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “I’m not going to ask again. Who is he?”

“I’m still not going to tell you.” You knew Lucifer would go to any length to protect those closest to him, and if he deemed Mammon as a threat it would most likely end with the human getting wiped from existence. You could see the anger just barely restrained behind his eyes, the demon shifting into his demon form without even realizing it.

“If that’s how you want to play, then we will play it your way. You are forbidden from ever attending the human realm again.” You blink several times before rising from your seat.

“And who are you to make that decision?”

“Along with that, you are to stay in my sight until I decide you can be trusted on your own again. Lord Diavolo doesn’t approve of random trips to the human realm, and when he finds out that you’ve been making day trips there, you’ll suddenly find yourself with lots of free time on your hands.” You paused. You hadn’t thought of that. You knew, although Diavolo was pushing for realms to reach peace with one another, that he wouldn’t approve of a demon taking unauthorized trips to the human realm.

“But--”

“No. We’re finished here; there’s nothing further to discuss.” You knew his words held truth by the expression on his face. You watch wordlessly as Lucifer leaves his study, leaving you alone in the room with just your thoughts.

181 notes · View notes

wanderingchocolateeclair · 3 years

Text

Late night worries.

Hey! It’s been a while, but here I am with some edgejeanist fluff!!! I’ve been in a really big motivational flunk right now but am trying to work my way out of it!!

It’s a little shorter than my usual, but I am pretty happy with how it turned out!!

No warnings! Just fluff!

Tagging: @uncharted-darkness @kiriderp @cxssiopeiia and @theshisthings (it’s been a while so please let me know if you are still happy to be tagged in my works ❤️)

——————————————

Tsunagu grumbled as he stood in the dark and unfamiliar kitchen, waiting for the kettle to finish boiling...It was rumbling rather loudly.

“Stupid brain. Overthinking again, this time when I actually need to sleep...” he complained, listening as the kitchen appliance clicked and turned quiet again.

They were all staying at some big fancy hotel, along with many other heroes, as they had been asked to attend a rather big celebrity gala. Usually, they’d be more than happy to do so, but this time they were not attending as the celebrities, but as the heavy security, due to many rumours and threats of an attack that could possibly happen the next evening.

So they were all there.

By ‘they’, I am referring to Endeavour, Hawks, Miruko, Ryukyu, Edgeshot, many others, and of course, our lovely Tsunagu over here...who was now pouring himself a hot cup of tea...

At 3 o’ clock in the morning....

Standing in the kitchen that sat in the middle of the massive hotel room that the top 5 were staying in together....

“That is quite a loud kettle...” he muttered to himself as he stirred his drink, “I hope I didn’t wake anyone-”

“Oh I don’t think you have to worry, most of them are awake anyway.”

Tsunagu jolted out of his deep train of thought at the sudden sound of somebody else’s voice and fumbled for the spoon that went flying across the counter, clattering as it fell onto the floor. He then proceeded to spill some of his freshly poured tea over himself, exclaiming rather loudly as he did so. “Wah- shoot!!! Shinya?!!!”

The ninja hero sat cross-legged on the kitchen counter, watching calmly at the commotion that unfolded from the other side of the spacious room. “Yes, it’s me. We live together, yet you are still always surprised that I notice when you’re awake.”

Tsunagu blinked at his partner’s comment before trying to come up with a reply. “Well- you’re quiet, and you know, I just- I was deep in thought, okay? You can’t blame me for being surprised!”

“Yeah, yeah, okay.” Shinya simply laughed at the other’s attempt at an excuse, sliding off of the counter and gently plodding over to where the taller figure was standing.

He reached his arms out to Tsunagu and smiled as the other man leant into his warm embrace.

“Couldn’t sleep?” The silver haired hero asked quietly into Tsunagu’s shoulder, his arms gently clasped around the other hero’s waist.

“Hmm...” Tsunagu hummed in response to his question, lifting his cup to his lips and wincing at the rather hot temperature of the drink that he had made for himself.

“Something on your mind, love?” Shinya whispered, looking up to question the tired man with a reassuring smile, before resting his head back on Tsunagu’s chest. “Do you wanna talk about it?”

“It’s not much....just worried...” the taller man bit his lip, trying not to show the other how hesitant he felt. “I don’t want anything to happen...”

Shinya’s eyes darted up to take in the concerned look on his partner’s face.

“Tsunagu...”

“Well. You know how I am, it’s fine, I’m okay! I know that everyone is surely feeling the same! I just...needed to distract myself, that’s all.”

“Yes, well of course. I feel incredibly worried too. I’m worried that something might happen...to.......well, I just- are you sure you’re okay?” Shinya reached up to place his hand on Tsunagu’s cheek, sweeping his long fringe away from his eyes and sharing a worried gaze, before bringing his arm back down to rest around Tsunagu’s waist once again.

The blond hero chuckled lightly and placed his cup down on the counter, using his other hand to gently stroke through Shinya’s hair. “You make it sound as if it’s something serious...”

“Yeah, well it could be! Knowing you, there’s always a chance it’s something serious and you just don’t think it’s anything to worry about!!” The smaller man huffed, stepping back slightly to look back up at the ever-so-slightly smug look on the fiber hero’s face.

“Oh? Is someone mad at me~”

“...what did you say?” Shinya glared at the taller man. Luckily for him, his hands were already in the perfect place for a surprise tickle attack...and Tsunagu realised this a tad bit too late.

“You seem mad...oh dear....poor me~”

No response came from the other man, he simply squinted and pouted even harder than he already was, edging closer as he waited for him to speak again.

“Hey, don’t pout....or do! It’s your choice, you look adorable either waAAH!”

Tsunagu was cut off by two small hands jabbing him in the sides rather gently, but with enough force to send him into a fit of laughter.

“AhaHahaHAHA!!!”

“What was that, you were saying?” Shinya enquired with a seemingly innocent look on his face.

“I- ahaha- I’m sorry, wai- hahahaa! I- I was jok- ahaha-”

“Hm? I didn’t quite catch that~”

“Ahah- okay, okay- I’m sorry, I- hahaha!! Stop- stop tickling me!”

“As you wish!” Shinya released his wriggling partner and laughed to himself at the chaos he’d caused.

Tsunagu leant on the counter to catch his breath and glared back at his tiny fiancé with mild vengeance in his eyes. “You are a menace...”

The silver haired man smiled and stretched his arms out in front of him. “Hm....maybe~”

Tsunagu straightened himself out and walked over to where Shinya was now standing, pulling the other man into another big hug.

“Did it work, though?”

The blond man tilted his head in a confused manner in response to the smaller man’s question. “What?”

“Well, you said you had something on your mind....and asked for a distraction, so....”

“Ah...” Tsunagu chuckled and rested their foreheads against each other. “Maybe just a little...”

“Oh?” Shinya smiled curiously, tilting his head up slightly so that he could gaze straight into the other man’s beautiful green eyes. “Only a little?”

The taller man hummed in response and brought his hands up to cup Shinya’s face gently, watching as his eyes happily scrunched up in a rather cute manner.

“So the tickling wasn’t enough of a distraction...” the smaller man teased lightly, leaning into the other man’s hands as he felt the familiar warmth comfort him.

“Well....” Tsunagu trailed off, pretending to think for a while before placing a small kiss on the tip of Shinya’s nose, smiling as he heard the other man giggle.

“Ah!” The silver haired hero gasped in an over exaggerated manner, raising both of his hands to cover his mouth in a classic ‘shocked’ pose. “Wait a second! What if I’m the distraction!!”

Tsunagu laughed and attacked his partner with a wave of unstoppable face smooches, causing the other to laugh loudly, his whole face lighting up in happiness and slight bashfulness.

“Well then, you’re the best distraction ever~” the blond man cooed, leaning in to press a soft kiss against Shinya’s lips and feeling even happier as he felt the other’s lips curl into a small smile against his own.

Shinya leant back and chuckled slightly. Pressing their lips together gently a second time, he leant further into the other’s comforting arms before burying his face into the taller man’s neck.

“Tsunagu?”

The aforementioned man looked down lovingly at the figure that fit so perfectly in his own embrace and smiled sweetly. “Yes, love?”

“I won’t let anything happen to you, I promise.” Shinya muttered quietly, his voice becoming less bold and more clearly worried again.

Tsunagu hesitated at the sudden shift in Shinya’s tone, but continued smiling nonetheless.

“As long as you don’t get yourself hurt along the way.”

“I’ll try my best.”

They both paused to share a soft and understanding gaze, the two of them knowing exactly how easy it was to become overly worried about a mission that could either go perfectly, or sometimes horribly wrong.

“Love you...” Tsunagu whispered, pressing their foreheads together and watching as Shinya closed his eyes in a reassured way.

“Mm....I love you t-”

“Ahem! Sorry, I seem to be interrupting something!”

The two sleep deprived lovers were snapped out of their conversation by the sound of a particular winged hero’s voice.

Looking like two children that had just been caught trying to steal the cookies out of a cookie jar, they fumbled out of each other’s arms and stuttered, trying to comprehend how silently the younger man must’ve been moving to get there without them noticing.

“Do you two wanna go get a room and flirt somewhere else? Or should I just stand here and wait until I can go and get a snack? I mean, this kitchen is perfectly big enough! To be honest, I wouldn’t even need to switch rooms I could just walk to the other side and I wouldn’t see ya-”

Hawks yawned loudly and raised an eyebrow at the two that were still stood there, their expressions showing more shock than you could possibly imagine.

“H-how....how long have you....” Shinya started to question, slightly afraid of what the answer could be.

“Oh long enough, don’t you worry. You both just seemed way too happy, I didn’t want to interrupt you...” the winged man chirped, knowing deep down that comfort and company was what they all needed at a time like this.

“Oh.....thank you...?”

“Yeah. You’re welcome...”

Hawks watched as the two other heroes glanced at each other sheepishly, before making his way closer to them.

“Y’know with all the noise you were making, you’re lucky that none of us can sleep! Or else you’d have woken us up and we’d all be in here!”

Tsunagu looked down at the floor in embarrassment and rubbed the back of his neck. “Ah....sorry....”

“Doesn’t matter. Now move! I’m hungry and you are in the way!”

The smaller blond man pushed his way between the two ‘lovebirds’ and made his way towards the kitchen fridge, humming and appearing to be in his own little world as he did so.

“Hey-” Tsunagu started, but was interrupted by a hand being placed gently on his arm.

“Leave him be.” Shinya smiled fondly.

“Okay...”

“Also, love?”

“Hm?”

“Your tea has gone cold.”

Tsunagu looked over at the cup that was sitting patiently on the side of the counter, and sure enough, it had gone pretty cold at this point. “Ah.”

“Want another one?” Shinya asked, reaching out for the taller man to grab his hand as he made his way towards the kitchen counter.

“No it’s okay,” Tsunagu said with a smile, squeezing his partners hand in his own and pulling him into another warm embrace.

“I feel much better now.”

17 notes · View notes

missorgana · 3 years

Text

everything has changed

pairing: darcy lewis/monica rambeau

fandom: marvel cinematic universe

rating: general

word count: 2612

summary: Monica pines, Jimmy gives her Darcy's number, and they meet again. (post wv finale reunion)

(once again crossposting late but hello!! i’ve been wanting to write these dorky girlfriends for ages but alas life! distractions! this doesn’t have much of a plot as much as just... darmonica being soft and jimmy getting them together cus 💞 hope u still enjoy!)

read on ao3

“Debriefs are for the weak.”

Monica mulls over Darcy’s parting words for her with a repressed chuckle, realising just how many hours the task is going to take her. And paperwork has only just begun.

It’s no surprise, of course.

In a short time, she’s dealt with a wide range of emotions. Monica’s done her job the way she knows how to, but this was no ordinary job.

Confusion, frustration, anger, shock, revelation. A strange force sparkling inside her, a power Wanda gave her without even realising it, and one she has to adjust to, like she’s adjusted to so much else in her existence after the return of the population post-blip.

She’s got most of those feelings pinned down, but one. One she suspects got a whole lot to do with a certain Doctor Darcy Lewis.

That must be why the shorter woman’s immediate leave left a certain pull in her chest, but really, how could she convince her to stay? For what reason? Monica felt ridiculous just considering it, if she could go back in time, mere hours ago, and yet it would probably be no different.

Darcy got a lift out of Westview, to where, she has no idea, of course. And she’s left bent over a desk with her fellow S.W.O.R.D colleges swarming around her, as well as Jimmy’s FBI unit.

Speaking of Jimmy, he knocks her out of her head on the non-existent door (the whiteboard, that is) and holds up the tray of coffees with a grin. She returns it, despite the lack of sleep making her eyes burn.

“Mind if I interrupt?” he says, and she’s already reaching for the cup, so the question is merely out of politeness, anyway. But she doesn’t mind, obviously.

“Thank you,” Monica answers, scooting over to allow him to sit, and he protests against it because he’s just too damn nice, so she insists, “I could honestly use a break, don’t worry about it. Seriously.”

And so they sip their beverages, revelling in the relative silence there could be in a space full of government officials and sounds of wheels and choppers and constant phone calls. She’s used to it. It’s just a little too much right now. Can you blame her?

“Looks to be a long night, huh,” Jimmy starts again, a chuckle that sounds as tired as she’s feeling.

Monica smiles again and rubs a hand over her face, “Several of them, I fear.”

He nods, “You think Wanda’s gonna be okay?”

She takes a minute with it, and really, Monica knows all these Avengers… superheroes , deal with unspoken shit and the fate of the world on their shoulders. Doesn’t mean they’ll be able to handle it, though. In fact, it makes her wonder if she’d be okay, herself.

And she wonders if Carol’s okay. She hasn’t thought about her in a long time.

It’s not much of an answer, but she figures she ought to say something, “I hope so.”

The silence between them settles again, and Monica flips a page before taking another sip, Jimmy seeming somewhat satisfied with the answer. It’s a guess, at the most. But a qualified guess, perhaps? It’s something .

When he picks up the conversation for the third time, it surprises her, “Are you okay?”

“Sorry?”

“I was just-” he stops himself mid-sentence, chuckling at the thing awkwardly and fidgeting with the paper cup, “Forgive me, I talk too much for my own good, sometimes.”

Monica shakes her head, sighs, rests her chin on one hand, sort of in an attempt to stay awake, “It’s fine. Just thinking.”

When he nods and downs the last gulp of coffee, looking like he’s about to leave her to the tedious work once more, her brain surprises herself, this time, pronouncing the words before even registering what she’s saying, “You think Darcy’s gonna be fine? I mean, uh, on her own.”

Jimmy’s face showcases mild confusion. Nevertheless, he sits down again, and before answering her question, turns the page for her. She feels overwhelmingly grateful.

“She doesn’t take any bullshit, excuse the language,” and they both share a laugh, because it’s too true, “Definitely. You worried about her, though?”

Well. The tight knot in her gut signals a definite yes. Yet Monica feels like an idiot for it, because they’ve known each other for, what, two weeks? She tries to lie. Somehow, she senses that the man doesn’t believe it.

“Nah.”

Pause. “No?”

She pauses herself. Chews the inside of her cheek, “I mean, I am. But it’s stupid. Should I?”

Jimmy’s confusion seems to fade in an instant, which Monica finds rather peculiar. Maybe she’d comment on it, if she could figure out how.

Sleep deprivation hangs over her being like a dark cloud, while the image of the doctor rests permanently at the very front of her mind. Gosh, it’s so obvious.

“I don’t think it’s stupid,” he assures her, flipping the next page, and the next, a kind of routine being developed, “I’ve got her number, though, if you want.”

Monica feels her hands freeze up, then.

It’s almost like her new friend can read her mind, and it’s a little bit scary. She resumes the work, the faster they do, the faster they’ll get the fuck out of here. But the look in Jimmy’s eyes is like a hilarious know-it-all sort of thing, minus the smug demeanor, because he’s incapable of that, she thinks.

“You have?”

“Yes, I mean, we got the information of all the specialists, heh,” he says, because obviously they do, and nods again in a funny sort of way, “But thought you might want it.”

“Oh.”

“Just, uh, you asked.”

“I did! I did, I…” Monica doesn’t really know where she’s going, now. Her voice gets rather its own life, and she has to return to the top of the paragraph to understand what it’s saying, “Thank you. Not sure she’d wanna hear from me, though.”

Jimmy frowns. “What happened to the boss lady I met two weeks ago?”

“Oh, shut it.” she snorts. He scribbles down the number on a scrap of paper and hands it to her with a satisfied grin. If a warmth spreads to replace the knot in her stomach, then sue her.

“You doing anything Friday?”

This is the question that repeats itself in Monica’s head as she comes to stand in front of Darcy Lewis’ front door, contemplating whether to knock, ring the bell, or chicken out and leave what those feelings in her chest are doing unresolved.

Of course, she won’t step down, not when she’s come this far.

Despite playing it relatively cool when Jimmy handed her the contact information, she did a lot of overthinking before picking up the phone.

Considering and planning every word, then, when the woman’s sunny voice rings in her ears, considering every word she receives. Monica never thought talking to someone she liked - or, well, more than liked, could be quite so terrifying.

“What up, sucker,” the voice had said, Darcy never failing to make her laugh, even without knowing, it seems. “Darcy? It’s Monica.”

She convinced herself the minimal pause wasn’t just in her own head, “Monica! I- I’m glad to hear from you.”

“Sorry, I hope I’m not interrupting-”

“Never.”

If the phone call made Monica horribly flustered, she couldn’t imagine what being in the same room as the shorter woman again could entail. Honestly still unbelievable that the doctor invited her over. It’s like she read her mind. And somehow, she does it again when the door opens at the same second as Monica convinces herself to finally raise her hand to the bell, and there she stands. She’d shush the butterflies in her gut to quiet down, but it’s quite a difficult task when Darcy stands in front of her, wearing a red cable knit sweater two times too big on her frame, raven hair lacking the beanie and eyes lacking glasses.

Monica finds herself swallowing around a lump in her throat she wasn’t even aware of till now.

The doctor’s instant smile and deep dimples don’t exactly help. She’s got a somewhat mischievous glint in her eye, and is already pulling on her wrist for a hug before saying anything, “You came!”

Her smile transfers to Monica’s own lips with ease. She doesn’t really know what to do with her hands. Not very used to this hugging thing.

“You sound surprised,” she replies, attempting a chuckle, but feeling painfully awkward in the process.

And when Darcy draws back, she does one of those funny faces that isn’t a frown, but rather a sign that she’s thinking of a joke, tilting her head to the side and her tongue poking out in the corner of her mouth.

Monica also doesn’t know why it makes her feel even warmer. Like the sun’s breathing in and out right above her, but never so far to scorch a burn. Never.

But of course, deep down, she does know. That is why she’s here in the first place, isn’t it?

She doesn’t know if the doctor considers her a friend. She didn’t assume so, she’d hoped, and also not, because judging by how her cheeks are already heating up, Monica’s beyond friendly feelings for the other woman already.

Darcy must consider her a friend. People don’t invite people they’ve known for all but two weeks home, usually… do they?

“Just thought you’d have important things to do, you know,” the shorter woman explains, already stepping aside in a silent invitation for Monica to enter, “Too busy for silly little me.” The doctor has a tendency to screw up her voice, too, she’s noticed. Last time, it was to relieve a room filled with tension, now, it pokes at the multiple knots in her chest, unwinding just a tiny bit.

Breathing in, breathing out. Come on, Monica, what are you so stressed for?

“You hungry?” Darcy interrupts her clogged brain again, “I’m not much of a chef, but uh- I’ve got coffee, too! Please ignore the mess.”

The shorter woman’s fumbling with her hands, making herself busy cleaning up after what she assumes is her own dinner. It’s just way, way too adorable.

She almost worries Darcy will fall and break something with the way she’s nearly sprinting to the kitchen, and so assures her she’s fine, really. Monica feels too anxious to sit, so she remains standing, for now.

The doctor starts up the coffee machine regardless.

Stacks of papers and folders on the side of the dining table, oh, she’s been there plenty of times herself. Monica doesn’t even realise she’s fixating on it when Darcy grins sheepishly, and after what feels like an eternity, they both sit.

She folds her hands on the tabletop. Tries desperately fighting her subconscious to not pick at her nails, because it’s a stupidly bad habit that’s got to be left behind. Hasn’t felt this nervous in ages, she realises.

“Debrief went okay?” Darcy asks, gesturing for the milk, an offer Monica takes. This seems easy. Should be easy. She’s making up all the tension in her own head, surely. And to ignore it, she smiles fondly at the thought of their last moment back in Westview, “Yeah. Long. You definitely didn’t miss out.”

The doctor snorts, nods, perhaps just confirming her own theory on the subject.

Then a smirk surfaces on her features, “Hayward getting his ass kicked in jail, I hope?”

And Monica allows herself to laugh, ease taking over her little by little. Coffee was more needed than she realised. So was Darcy’s half-lit flat, muted television going in the background and several open folders scattering the living room rug.

Feels like the doctor’s own little bubble, of sorts. Their little bubble. Hm.

“A girl can dream.”

“Goddamn right.”

So much to her own surprise, the shorter woman pretty much takes all nerves about this reunion right out of her, as simple as popping a balloon.

They’re making small talk, not boring or superficial like any two people who barely know each other, because, somehow, it just feels like they know. Monica can’t understand why. It’s easy for them to be personal, when her thoughts shift to her mom. And she knew Darcy knew Thor, the woman insists she should meet Jane too, and it just makes the butterflies flutter faster and stubbornly.

In fact, Monica doesn’t realise how long they sit there, talking about everything and nothing, until she glances at the clock on the wall and it tells her it’s almost 11PM. Oh, shit.

There goes the nerves again. She doesn’t know what to do with herself with that information in mind, because, ugh, well.

A part of her really, really likes the thought of this as a date. But it’s not a date, that has to be explicit. You know, talked about. Then, what is it, then?

She catches herself itching her fingers, and when she pushes her chair out, something in Darcy’s face shifts. It’s like she instantly understands. But also, a hand lands on her thigh, and Monica can’t exactly process that.

“Ah, shit! I always do this, me and my big mouth…” she grumbles, which is also too adorable, like everything else about the doctor, until her wide eyes gleam in excitement all over again, “Wait, just a moment. Almost forgot.”

The shorter woman retreats to another room in a hurry, leaving Monica strangely lost without her hand and downing the last bit of coffee. She grimaces at the cold liquid. Only encourages the butterflies more.

And then, Darcy returns, but with a bouquet of blue roses looking comically giant in her grasp.

Not what she expected, that’s for sure. But those butterflies in her gut are now having a rave. The doctor scrunches her nose, Monica’s quick to stand up and take the flowers handed to her, and then she’s staring at the baby blue petals in her arms, feeling like she’s in a daydream.

Looking back at Darcy, she’s shifting her weight back and forth on each foot, clearly as nervous as she herself feels when her heart jumps in somersaults. Does this mean what she thinks it means?

“These… are these for me?” Monica finds herself asking.

The shorter woman tilts her head again, but grinning, “Duh.”

She has no idea what to say. All she can think about is the doctor and the flowers and the smile meant for her and how she surely, definitely must be blushing. It’s a little relieving that the woman in front of her is doing the same.

And then Monica feels like an idiot for making sure this reality really is happening, “Why?” and it strains her chest, then, fearing that Darcy might take this back. Instead, the doctor steps a little closer and touches some of the flower heads, straightening some, nodding, satisfied with the arrangement.

She stays in Monica’s space, “I wanted to give flowers to a pretty girl. I mean, uh, if this is… I can totally take it back if this is weird. Ugh, I’m such a bad romantic.”

Talking to herself, Darcy’s so adorable it almost hurts.

The flat also feels a lot warmer than when she arrived, but in an overwhelmingly good way. Their tiny bubble.

Monica tightens her hold on the flowers even more and shakes her head to the flustered doctor, pushing a coil of hair behind her ear. Her reminder to herself, thank Jimmy next time they see each other. How did he read them so easily?

“I like getting flowers from pretty girls, so…”

Darcy’s eyes turn hopeful again, “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

18 notes · View notes

babylooneytoonz · 4 years

Text

Warnings: Just fluff, and implied confessions, a lot of baby stuff, mighty heroes being softies at heart with a baby on the way

Link to the Masterlist.

Bucky kept glancing at you, shielded from your direct gaze as you were facing the side. You didn’t know he was standing there by the entrance to the recreation room, watching you from the corner of his eyes, as Wanda leaned over you, giggling to herself, running her palm over your stomach.

“Why’d you hide this from us, Y/N?” Wanda asked you, but you kept mull, because the truth was, you didn’t have the answer to it yourself. It was many things; the fact that you didn’t want to burden Bucky, knowing very well that he wasn’t ready for this, and maybe he never will. You didn’t blame him though, it wasn’t his fault. Maybe in a parallel world, if this was the man that he used to be in 1940s, he would have been happy. Also, you were scared of this; you had lost a child once, and you were scared of losing this one too, and this time, you didn’t want to break down in front of these Mighty Heroes. Then there was the fact that you wanted to hunt them all down, one by one, that HYDRA scum and you had thought you would be able to do it since you were a freaking avenger, but this baby, with the super serum of its father running through its veins, was proving to be more difficult than you had imagined. This child kept you on your toes, and hardly let you get any sleep, it was always kicking around and squirming inside you and you were tired, sleep deprived and so exhausted, you couldn’t even tell them.

Bucky didn’t know what he was feeling; was it anxiety, fear, paranoia or elation? Perhaps it was a mix of it all. He had lost hope of living a normal life; of starting his own family, watching them grow up and have grandchildren one day. Maybe this was the beginning of it. But there was a deep rooted fear inside him. He wasn’t the same man he was; he had been a cold blooded killing machine. A monster. He was scared for the first time ever since Winter Soldier was linked to him. He was scared of the kind of life this child was going to have when they grew up. How safe would they be? And would they hate him for the things he did? Worse of all, will he even be able to be a father? It was a different thing to father a child, but an entirely different thing to be a father to a child. Worst of all, he was scared of the effect his serum would have on that child.

Bucky kept watching, his index finger resting on his chin, his hair messily falling over the side of his face. He noticed how beautiful you looked; how divine, and you were glowing. Your face looked ten shades brighter, although he did notice that for some reason, you looked exhausted, and your eyes looked strained and droopy. Bucky’s eyes trailed over your body, moving along your curves and your tresses until it landed on your stomach. He loved the way you looked, especially right now, and the fact that it was his child in there, it marveled him beyond imagination, and somehow, it pumped blood into his body, his pants already growing tight at your sight.

“You still haven’t spoken to her yet, have you?” His thoughts were broken when Steve stepped next to him, fixing himself where he was standing and the super soldiers stared at the tiny little homely scene in front of them. Who could say that the mighty Avengers could not be softies? Sam was sitting on a stool, painting your toenails, and you were laughing at a joke that Natasha had cracked. If it was any other scenario, Bucky would have wanted to smack Sam Wilson on the back of his head, but watching that soft smile draped over your lips, he didn’t want to.

“Spoken to her about what?” He asked dryly, turning towards his best friend.

Steve almost deadpanned, giving him the look, his eyes narrowed almost in disapproval, “About what this means for the two of you.”

“Punk, I don’t see how this changes anything,” Bucky mumbled, his voice cold.

“This changes everything, Buck. If this was 1940s, you would have been over the moon– "

“that’s the problem, Stevie. This ain’t 1940. And that man died that day when he fell off that fucking train.”

Steve Rogers' eyes looked like they might pop out second, and it was rare when he got angry. However right now , he was fuming. He was tired of Bucky running away from things, things that could give him a normal life. His fists clenched, his hard staring eyes glaring at the other super soldier.

“This is your problem, James. You don’t even want to try. And guess what? It’s not her fault she got dragged into this with you. Now, if you’re not going to be a man, and take responsibility for what you’ve done, then I am.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“We are going to be uncles to that kid, be there for Y/N even if you refuse to.”

“Fuck, Steve. When did I say anything about not being there for her? I brought her here, so she could be cared for.”

“And that exactly is the problem here. Only, you don’t see it,” Steve walked off, before Bucky could even ask him what he was supposed to understand from that little Captain America outburst.

╞═════𖠁𐂃𖠁═════╡

It wasn’t easy growing a freaking super soldier baby inside you.

You huffed in annoyance, propping yourself up in bed, wiping the mild layer of sweat that had formed on your forehead. You had tolerated brutal punches and kicks to your ribs, and walked off with a smile on your face. You had gotten your nose broken, and you had cackled like a lunatic at the person who had broken it, but for some annoying reason, the way your back was throbbing relentlessly, you were finding it hard to find a comfortable position to sleep in.

So you slid out of bed, wrapping a robe around your swollen body, pushing your glasses over the bridge of your nose. You crept out of your apartment, making sure to close the door as quietly as you could so you didn’t wake up Bucky or Sam, who had apartments on the either side of yours. You tiptoed up to the kitchen, turning on the lights, throwing open the fridge.

You growled in frustration, pulling out items from the fridge and randomly tossing them away, on the slab, trying to look for what you were craving – Pretzels.

Annoyed, you slammed the fridge door shut, ignoring the fact that you weren’t exactly being discreet enough and dragged yourself out into the recreation room. It didn’t look like this little spawn of his father was going to let you sleep much tonight. Like father, like baby. The both of them were messing with you and your mind; the father because he was a dick, and the kid because they weren’t even here yet and they were already keeping you on your toes. You slumped in front of the TV, grabbing the remote when a drowsy figure emerged out of the shadows, her hair standing like mohawk on top of her head.

“I woke you up, didn’t I?” You asked, only to get a groan in form of a reply as Natasha propped herself next to you.

“Not really, I just woke up, thought I’d raid the kitchen but saw that the lights were on. What’s up?” She eyed you.

“Don’t even ask. That bed is uncomfortable, my back hurts like a bitch. I thought I’d satisfy these really annoying Pretzel cravings but we have none. I don’t know why this kid even likes pretzels. His dad likes pancakes and I like tortillas,” you muttered, while aimlessly flipping through the channels.

“Barnes likes pancakes? You seem to know a lot about him, well.”

You shrugged, feeling a sudden heat creep into your cheeks for no reason.

“Its nothing like that, it’s just something I’ve seen him munch on.”

“Whatever, Y/N. He’s your man, I don’t even want to comment on it. Anyway, I’m off. You carry on, I’ll see if I can ask Tony to get you pretzels tomorrow,” she hopped off the couch, stretching her arms once before she started walking away when you called out, “Nat?”

She stopped walking, turned around partly, and glanced at you.

“What was he like when the two of you were, you know – “

“You mean the Red Room.” She froze, and her arms came to cross against her chest. You saw her lips part and she was trying to find the right words, but none came out.

“He was much more colder than he is with you. You are good for him, Y/N. I was just someone that he felt solitude with. Because he was alone. But now he isn’t alone and yet, he looks at you like you’re the only one for him.”

“His words say otherwise though.” You only chuckled, and watched Natasha Romanoff leave, and your attention went back to watching the TV and you couldn’t help but wonder if Bucky still felt the same way about her, given the fact that they had history.

╞═════𖠁𐂃𖠁═════╡

You slept almost all day the next day, making up for the sleepless night you had, and it was almost midday when you woke up, stretching your arms in the air. When your eyes adjusted to the lights, you noticed a maternity pillow laying on your bed. It was a bright yellow in colour, and it looked comfy as hell. You hurriedly reached out, clutching it in your palm until you had it pulled towards you. You curled up against it, nuzzling your face against its soft fabric and relaxing into the comfort that it gave you. Natasha might be a cold hearted spy for the rest of the world, but she was a softie at heart, and you loved her dearly.

You straightened your loose fitting frock, pulling it down against your thighs as you got off the bed, stroking your bump in a slow, soft motion.

The recreation room was buzzing with energy today, and the minute you stepped in, you were greeted by Natasha, and Bucky, already dressed in their uniforms, speaking to Steve. You squinted your eyes in confusion, watching the two of them, trying to listen to what they were taking about when Bucky turned towards you, meeting your gaze. You didn’t look away, and instead, gave him just the tiniest of the smiles, and much to your amazement, he reciprocated it, although it wasn’t much. You walked up to Sam, grabbing his arm and pulling him up.

“What’s going on?”

“The two of them are going on an undercover mission. Afghanistan.” Sam informed, biting into what looked like a pretzel.

“Okay, is that a fucking pretzel in your mouth?” You reached for his plate that still had one pretzel left, grabbing it before Sam could protest, and flung it into your mouth, munching on it, savoring it against your taste buds. Suddenly, you sat straighter, and again turned towards him, “Are the two of them going on the mission? Alone?”

“Whoa, hey. That’s the freaking Winter Soldier and the Black Widow. They don’t need anyone else if they’re together.”

“Really Sam?”

“Oh, I didn’t mean it that way of course.” He winked, and you turned back to watch Bucky smile slightly at something that Natasha had probably said to him, which was funny. When you looked over at Natasha, you got a jab in the arm from Sam and he chuckled, “Jealousy ain’t pretty,”. He stood up and bending down to grab the empty plate, started walking off. “More pretzels?” He called out; but you weren’t listening anymore. You were walking towards Bucky and Natasha, and you didn’t know why.

“Hey, Nat? You’ve got a minute?” You chimed in, the minute you were close to the two of them.

She stopped speaking to Bucky, and her head, and his too, snapped in your direction, and she nodded, “All cool?”

“Yep.” You grabbed her arm, and pulled her away from Bucky, rather rudely and pulling her aside, you motioned towards Sam, “You got me that pillow and those pretzels, I wanted to thank you. At least there’s someone who understands.”

“Uh, Y/N, what pillow and wait, are there pretzels in the kitchen? Hey, Sam, don’t you finish them all alone – “ She left you standing there, startled, and in a daze as she scampered off, running after Sam, and you didn’t notice Steve watching you with a smile on his face, until he cleared his throat.

“Ah, Cap, I didn’t see you there.” You smiled, awkwardly.

“the lot can be a handful, especially when you get Sam and Natasha and Buck under the same room.”

Again, Natasha and Bucky.

“It was you, wasn’t it? That pillow in my bedroom, the pretzels in the kitchen.” You raised an eyebrow, waiting for him to reply, your hands resting on your back.

“I did have a part to play in that, but it was all him. The poor fellow didn’t have any clue so he dragged me through a lot of pillows. Until he settled on the one in your bedroom.”

“Who?” You asked.

Steve just pointed towards the door, and you turned around, noticing Bucky standing by the exit, his foot resting against the wall, as he scrolled through his phone.

“He did this? How?” You swallowed the lump forming in your throat, trying to blink away the tears bubbling in your eyes. Fucking pregnancy hormones.

“Probably heard you and Natasha talk about this. He’s been dragging me out ever since he woke up.”

“Steve, you know what.. I think I need to talk to him.” Steve only smiled, his smile reaching the crook of his twinkling eyes and nodded. You turned your tail, waddling all the way to where Bucky was standing, and when he looked up at who was approaching, he slid his phone away, nodding at you.

“I, uh, Buck, I – Thank you? For the pillow? And the pretzels and –“ You were blabbering, ignoring the smirk that had paved its way to his lips, the smirk that was tugging at your heartstrings.

“Its alright, doll. It’s my fault this happened.”

“Is the mission important? Can’t no one else go ?” you blurted out, and it was too late to take your words back.

Bucky dramatically tilted his head to one side, shuffling the weight of his foot from one side to another as he blinked, “Sort of. Don’t know. Clint can go. Why?”

You averted your gaze, and if it was easier for you to look down at your hands without having your tummy blocking your view , you would have noticed the way your fingers were nervously toying with each other.

“Its nothing. I just, well best of luck.” You gave him a fake, half hearted smile, and started turning away when Bucky reached for your arm, grabbing it, and pulled you to him. Your eyes closed for a split second, and when you opened them again, his face was dangerously close to yours, and your heart was strumming mindlessly against your chest. You didn’t know what to call this feeling; and the nearest that you could name it as were butterflies. Or maybe it was just your baby doing a somersault inside your tummy.

“Is everything alright with you?” He asked you, his palm flying up to your face so that he was cupping your chin, his thumb stroking your cheek.

Your tear betrayed you, and you mentally cursed yourself because James Buchanan Barnes had caught you crying, for your tear had rolled down against his thumb, “you’re worrying me now, doll. Is the baby okay?” His eyes fell to your stomach, and then back on your face.

You nodded, wiping your tear away.

“You’re going on a fucking mission with the Black Widow. And you two would be alone, I– “

You braced yourself for him to snap at you, and find words to insult you. You were so foolish. What the fuck were you thinking that you said that to him? Only he didn’t. Instead, a wide grin formed on his face and he just pulled your cheek. Wait, did he just fucking pull your cheek? You had killed people, point blank, looking them in the eye. And this man right here had just pulled your cheek like you were a fucking two year old. But then again, you should have been angry, yet you weren’t.

“Is that what’s gotten you like this? You think there’s something left between me and Natasha?” He only smiled, shaking his head.

“Natasha is beautiful, she is amazing, but.. “ he took a step away from you when he saw Natasha emerge from inside and tossed a gun in the air that Bucky managed to catch while taking backwards steps away from you, “There’s someone else for me and although she can be a pain in the ass, I can’t stop thinking about her.”

You suppressed your smile. He could tell from your blush that you felt the same way for him, and your actions, your little display of jealousy had just proved it for him. He didn’t want to admit to himself; he found the rosiness in your cheeks cute, and he definitely didn’t want to admit that he was head over heels in love with you, and you coming back into his life had only made the feeling stronger. Although it wasn’t in the most conventional way for the two of you, for people usually fell in love, got married and had babies, for the two of you it had been hate, one time sex, an unplanned pregnancy and now love. He didn’t mind it.

"Do me a favour Barnes," you smirked, as he stepped into the elevator, with Natasha, who was smirking too, her eyes flying from you to him, and then back, "And get your ass back in one piece, yeah?" Before he could reply, the elevator doors closed, but not without you having seen that nod of his head.

Now all he wanted to do was get on that fucking quinjet, get done with the fucking mission, and get back to you.

Permanent Bucky Barnes Taglist :

@really-dont-forget-it @thepeakygurl @all-art-is-quite-useless @baumarvel @janajjj @chipilerendi @nyotamalfoy @skittychat @allidoiswritewritewrite

Want to be added to my taglist? Please fill up a form on this link. 💗

#james buchanan bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes x reader #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #winter soldier #james buchanan barnes #winter soldier x reader

57 notes · View notes

hellowkatey · 3 years

Text

Febuwhump Day 6

Prompt: Insomnia

Summary: The Disaster Lineage™ has a long history of being horrible at getting the sleep they need.

Read on AO3

Good Sleep is Hard to Find

"It's called insomnia, Obi-Wan," the Twilek healer looks unamused as she sits across from him. "And no, it's not normal."

Obi-Wan Kenobi doesn't particularly like going to the healers. In fact, he avoids them as much as he can. Unfortunately, in this case, Master Che cornered him as he left the training sala and practically dragged him by the ear to her office.

"It really is not too bad. I've grown accustomed to-"

"To what? Four hours of sleep? On a good night?" Master Che rolls her eyes. "You Jedi Knights are going to give me an aneurysm one day."

"I do hope not, Master. Then all of us would be walking around with untreated concussions and scantily wrapped blaster wounds."

She leans back in her chair, her bright blue eyes softening. "Yes, likely. Listen, I brought you here because your little late-night training sessions have found their way down the rumor mill. People are concerned for you."

Obi-Wan glances out the window at the darkened megapolis. He didn't think anyone knew he would go to the training rooms when he couldn't sleep. Though, nothing can really happen in this temple without every other knight and padawan hearing about it.

"I figured it was a good way to tire myself out."

"Well lucky for you, you won't have to do katas at three in the morning anymore," she reaches into her desk and slides two pill bottles across the table. Obi-Wan gingerly picks them up, looking up at her inquisitively. "One is a natural supplement. Think of it as your first line of defense. If you're not feeling tired at bedtime, take this first. It's the natural hormone your body produces to make you fall asleep. Very safe."

"Right. And this one?" he shakes the other. A flicker of a smirk appears on her lips.

"That's the good stuff. It should knock you right out, but only take one pill a night, max."

Seems easy enough. Obi-Wan looks between the two bottles, internally a little glad Master Che corralled him into here. He is not keen on drugs usually, but his current situation has become quite distressing... Maybe he'll finally get a decent sleep.

"And if neither work?" he asks, a little fearful of her answer.

"I'll be impressed if the second doesn't work, but I suppose I can teach your padawan how to do a proper sleep suggestion."

He points an accusatory finger at her. "You wouldn't dare!" The healer smiles fully now, shaking her head. As she looks at him longer, her smile fades again into sympathy.

"Obi-Wan, I do hope you plan on using these medicines. Insomnia is very common, and you are certainly not the only Jedi Knight on this regimen."

He sighs, clutching the bottles in his fist. "I just don't understand why I can't sleep, I suppose. Anakin tires me out his fair share, and I feel exhausted, I just can't seem to actually sleep."

"Well," she shifts in her seat. "It tends to get worse in times of stress-- like having a teenage padawan... or when processing trauma."

Red. So much red, and the sight of a lightsaber through Qui-Gon's abdomen flashes through his mind. He blinks away the image, though he knows it will be there in his dreams anyway. It always is. But he isn't here to discuss that, even if Master Che seems insistent on doing a full exam on him while she has him trapped in the halls.

"Right, well," he stands. "I should let you get your own sleep and try to get some of my own."

She looks a little disappointed as he pines for the door but she stands and they bow goodbye. "I don't want to hear about any more nighttime training sessions, Knight Kenobi. I have eyes and ears everywhere, you know."

He smiles. "Yes, Master Che, I understand."

Yet somewhere between the Halls of Healing and Obi-Wan's apartment, he seems to forget their understanding. He sits on his bed, staring at the bottles in either hand. The morning will be upon Coruscant in a short few hours, and he can't risk being knocked out and missing morning meditation and training with Anakin. He sets the bottle of sleeping pills on his side table and looks at the supplements. She claimed these were natural, only a mild aid... perhaps he can at least try these for his few hours of sleep.

They go down easy with water, and he lays on his back, staring up at the ceiling. His muscles are still buzzing from hours of repeating kata after kata, honing his acrobatics, and dueling with the training droids. It baffles him how his body can feel so exhausted but he doesn't find a wink of sleep. The reality of his sleeplessness is a number barely present in the back of his mind. He tries not to think about it as the hours tick up. Twenty-four hours. Thirty-six hours. Forty. Fifty. Sixty.

The worst part is he is trying to sleep. Truly. He wants nothing more than for his head to hit the pillow and to blink out of consciousness for a good six hours or so. But to no avail. He envies the other knights who have taught themselves to sleep whenever they can, wherever they can. In the deep wells of the Temple windows, pilot chairs of ships, standing up in some cases. Sometimes he is tempted to ask them their secret, but he suspects that just like he is wired to be awake forevermore, they are made to find their rest.

Everything is the will of the Force, isn't it? Qui-Gon always told him there was a reason for everything. A plan that he may not be able to see now, but later he will. His greatest comfort has always been that there will one day be a purpose for the agony he goes through. One day it will all make sense.

He closes his eyes. Maybe that will help. He doesn't feel drowsy but he isn't sure if he is supposed to with this supplement.

Obi-Wan can feel the edges of sleep nearby. He tries to grab them, hang onto the feeling of spiraling into blissful unconsciousness, but it's like a switch he can't reach. He rolls to his side, squeezing his eyes shut again. Tries to push out every thought from his mind, but somehow thinking about how he needs to think about nothing is more occupying to his mind than actually thinking about anything else.

So he lies there. Switches to his other side. Back to his back. Experiments with lying on his stomach, and decides it cranes his neck too much. And when he finds himself on his back for the third time he realizes the light has slowly crept into his room and Anakin's alarm is blaring on the other side of their apartment.

He sighs. Sits up and rubs his eyes. Fifty-five hours.

Obi-Wan struggles his way through their meditation. His heavy intake of caff made him jittery and his lack of sleep made getting a good grasp on the Force difficult. Even Anakin seemed to notice his lack of propriety, which only made Obi-Wan feel worse. After lunchtime, Obi-Wan goes to one of his knight elective courses. It's saber training concentrating on Form III, which he usually enjoys, but today he lingers near the back of the group. His vision is starting to get hazy, and things look as though they are moving when he knows they aren't. After getting hit by three training bolts that he should have been able to deflect, he decides to bench himself for the remainder of the class.

He has a feeling this will get back to Master Che, but he doesn't care anymore.

Anakin is back from his own classes when he gets back to his apartment. The padawan is lounging on the couch with a datapad balanced on his knees. When he sees Obi-Wan come through the door, he jumps up.

"Master you're back!" he says with more enthusiasm than Obi-Wan is used to from his teenage apprentice.

"Anakin, hello," he says, raising an eyebrow and glancing around the apartment. "What did you break?"

Anakin crosses his arms. "Why do you think I broke something?"

Obi-Wan sets down his training bag by the door. "Just a feeling, I suppose."

"Well a wrong feeling, Master," he says, walking with long strides into the kitchen. Yes, he is definitely up to something.

Anakin pulls out two plates, each with sandwiches stacked tall with meat. Obi-Wan also suddenly realizes the kettle is on the stove and two mugs are sitting out, prepped with tea bags.

"I asked one of the Masters what kinds of food help people go to sleep. They said turkey and chamomile tea are good," Anakin looks up at him hesitantly. "I thought maybe some turkey sandwiches and tea for dinner may help you... you know. Sleep better."

Obi-Wan feels like he might cry. He blames it on the sleep deprivation but seeing the effort Anakin put into a problem he had no idea his padawan even picked up on touches him. The boy can be a terror sometimes, but Qui-Gon was right about his kindness. Obi-Wan smiles, walking up to the fourteen-year-old and squeezing his shoulder.

"This looks wonderful, Anakin. I have been having some sleep troubles, and I'm sorry if I worried you."

"When I can't sleep I like to try to tire myself out. Have you tried that, Master?"

He smiles softly. More than you know, young one. "Unfortunately, Master Che was not too happy with that method. She gave me some medication to help, instead."

Anakin takes a big bite of his sandwich, making a face. "That's not as fun."

Obi-Wan takes his own bite of the sandwich that is quite literally stacked with turkey. It might be half a bird here alone. "That's what I told her, too."

Anakin laughs, jumping up to grab the screeching kettle and finish preparing the tea. Sixty-four hours now, but this time he has a good feeling about resetting the clock for tomorrow. The master and apprentice enjoy the rest of their meal, and then Obi-Wan retires to his room. With his belly full of comfort food and tea, he actually feels the long-lost tug of drowsiness enticing him to bed. Even with such a feeling, he picks up the medication that Master Che prescribed him.

Without adequate sleep, he can't be the Master Anakin needs him to be. The boy deserves all that and more. Obi-Wan swallows the sleeping pill without another thought and lies back in bed. It takes only a few minutes for him to drift into a blissful, dreamless sleep.

__________

A scream is caught in his throat as Anakin is forcibly thrown out of his nightmare. He chokes on it, coughing a few times to clear his throat and then wiping the cold sweat off his brow and upper lip. It's pitch black in the room, but he waits a moment to turn on the light. Sometimes, when he just lets his eyes adjust naturally he can pretend for a few moments that he's anywhere other than the cold quarters of a star destroyer. He can be back on Coruscant, in Padmé's comfortable bed with the weight of her comforters pressing him into the mattress. Or in their lake country villa on Naboo, her body wrapped around him with the sound of running water nearby. Sometimes he is back with his mother, her fingers rifling through his hair soothingly as she lulls him back to sleep.

Anywhere where he isn't alone on a bunk harder than durasteel. Sometimes he thinks he'd rather sleep on the dunes of Tatooine than his bunk. (Obi-Wan usually tells him to stop being dramatic when he goes that far.)

But these little divergences are enough to lull him out of the panic of his dreams and into a better state of mind. By the time his eyes do adjust to the blank walls and regulation furniture he can decide whether or not he will be returning to sleep for the night.

They've been getting worse lately. The dreams. They happen nearly every night now. Not always the same thing, like before his mother's death, but always intense and horrific. Always making him wake up close to tears or worry that he's been screaming and Ahsoka or Obi-Wan will come bursting in at any moment. Sometimes he is calm enough to put going back to sleep to chance. Other times he prefers to just accept a day without sleep.

Obi-Wan would kill him if he knew. Ahsoka gives him enough trouble when he yawns his way through briefing meetings, so he's surprised she hasn't tattled on him yet. Or maybe she has, and the old man has decided it would be hypocritical to nag him about it. Obi-Wan isn't exactly known for his healthy sleep schedules either.

He doesn't have good feelings about sleep tonight. His heart is still racing and he can still see a horrific scene of Ahsoka sobbing with a lifeless Obi-Wan in her arms, blood is trickling out of his nose and ears, and eyes glossy and set. It's a moment he's seen a few times. Sometimes Obi-Wan is already dead and other times he's falling and Anakin is running frantically to save him.

He never makes it.

Tonight was no different.

Anakin turns on the light and slips on a pair of trousers. His hair is a mess, per usual, but running his fingers through it a few times seems to do the trick. He still has to squint as he steps out into the hallway. The fluorescent lights of the ship are about as harsh as staring straight into a star, but it wakes him up as good as a cup of caff. It's the middle of the nightshift, but the halls are still just as busy as usual. Since there is no distinct day or night in the middle of deep space, they are just suggestions to ensure people actually sleep.

It's not as comforting as taking walks around the sleeping Temple when he can't sleep. There is a blissfulness to being awake when the rest of the planet isn't that Anakin finds refreshing from the usual bustle of the day. The best he can find is the mess, where only a few troopers sit around at the tables with cups of caff or snacks.

Anakin helps himself to his own cup, pouring a decent amount of sugar in for good measure. He settles down at a table with his datapad. Maybe this time he'll actually get his council report in on time, at least. He spends the next hour or so filling out his paperwork and working up a decent collection of caff cups and snack wrappers. By the time he reaches his last assigned task, the dinner rush has begun for the night-shifters.

"General Skywalker?" he looks up to see Rex standing with his own cup of caff in hand. Anakin gives him a friendly smile.

"Oh hey, Rex, what are you doing up?"

"Could ask you the same, sir," he sits down on the bench, eyeing the four other empty cups strewn about.

"Paperwork. Couldn't sleep."

The corner of Rex's mouth upturns in a half-smile. "More and more like General Kenobi, every day."

"Don't even joke like that, Rex, I would never hear the end of it," he says, though a small part of his mind curses that the captain is actually right. Using paperwork as an excuse to avoid sleep? He might as well grow a beard and have a Core accent.

"Only joking, of course, sir."

"So what's your excuse?"

"My excuse?"

"Our first call isn't for another few hours, and I've never seen you up and about at this time."

Rex takes a long sip from his drink. Stalling, it seems.

"To be frank, sir, ever since Umbara I tend to... wake up earlier."

Anakin searches the clone captain's face, and suddenly he recognizes it. The dark circles and bloodshot eyes are faint, but definitely there.

"The dreams keep you up?" he asks casually. Anakin has always liked Rex because he isn't afraid to be more candid around him. He has the respect of a leader, but he isn't so uptight about his rank. Through their time working closely together, they have actually begun to be somewhat of friends. At least, Anakin considers Rex to be a friend.

The clone looks up at him with surprise. "Well, sometimes, yes. How did you--"

"Like I said, I'm not Obi-Wan. Paperwork doesn't keep me up at night."

It feels good to actually admit it aloud to someone. To be able to say he's having bad dreams without getting a lecture from his master or getting watched like a hawk by his padawan. Especially if Rex is having the same issue.

They let this revelation blanket around them as they continue to sip on their caff. Even with six cups in his system, Anakin's body feels heavy and fatigued. It takes much longer to complete the last form with the amount of time he has to read and reread things to make sure he is understanding it right. His vision keeps blurring as though he is on the verge of falling asleep.

That's something Anakin has never had a problem with-- falling asleep. It takes him mere minutes to close his eyes and fall into a deep sleep. It's just the damned dreams that wake him up and ruin his rest.

"Uh, sir?" he hears through a clearing throat. Anakin opens his eyes and realizes he has dozed off with his forehead on the datapad. He smiles away the embarrassment, shaking his head.

"This caff sucks."

"You know they have decaf out after lunch right?"

He blinks. "Decaff?" Anakin says it as though it's a word in a foreign language.

"Yes, you have to request for a pot of regular. New health initiative started in the last month or so to improve... sleep."

The Jedi general crosses his arms over his chest. "And nobody told me?"

"I suppose they thought the label on the pot sufficed."

He glances over at the caff machine and, in fact, there is a label reading DECAF. Fair enough. He looks back at Rex, who is passively amused by all of this.

"Kix has too much power. It's going to go to his head."

Rex smiles, shaking his head but not disagreeing. Now disgusted by his caff, the knight casts aside the half-empty cup. The lack of caffeine definitely explains why he is still so tired.

"I should be going to prep for the morning briefing, then," Rex says, standing up and grabbing his bucket from the bench. He downs the remainder of his coffee and tucks his helmet under his arms. "Thanks for the company, though, general."

"Anytime. I suppose I will see you at the update."

"Oh right," Rex says, pausing and looking back down at him. "I have messages for you. General Kenobi commed to let you know they have postponed the update meeting to tomorrow. And we will be in hyperspace another full day before arriving at our check-in point."

He does the mental gymnastics of cycling through his schedule and realizes his entire day is clear of meetings. A day off? That is about as rare as Ahsoka not being snippy. He even has his paperwork done now so...

"Well in that case, maybe I will take the decaf as a sign and... take a nap." He can feel his mind more clear now. Usually, that means he can manage a few good hours without another nightmare if he has any at all. Though he was adamant about not wanting to go back to bed a few hours ago, suddenly laying down sounds amazing.

Rex smiles. "Very good, sir. I will be sure to comm you if we need anything, of course."

The clone captain walks off, and Anakin looks around at his little collection of trash, tired and a little dumbfounded.

He has a sudden suspicious feeling Ahsoka hasn't been tattling to Obi-Wan, but to Rex. Anakin smiles to himself, shakes his head, and gathers up his things to go back for some extra shut-eye.

__________

When Ahsoka can't sleep, she pulls her old Jedi cloak out of her closet. It's not something she wears anymore-- not for a long time at this point-- but it is something she has kept close to her ever since going on the run from the Empire.

There is just something about that thick, wooly fabric that is like a security blanket when she encases herself in it. It still smells like a mix of the standard-issue laundry detergent and engine oil. She can run her fingers along the hem, recognizing the familiar fray on the right sleeve that she used to pick at when she was nervous, or the hole that Master Kenobi had to patch three separate times in the pocket. There is a burnt edge on the hood where Anakin managed to nick it with his saber, and sometimes the tip of her montral would peek out.

Today she can't sleep, and she isn't sure why. Sometimes, she has these periods of time where falling asleep and staying asleep are more difficult than they should be. She suspects it has something to do with stress, which she has plenty of, all the time. The cloak always seems to help, so she grabs it. It always reminds her of Master Obi-Wan and his habit of losing his own cloaks. When she pulls it around herself it feels like a hug from Anakin. And when she closes her eyes she pretends she is in another time and another place. A time when her mentors watched over her and protected her and she wasn't so alone.

A part of her thinks that somewhere in the Force they are still looking over her. It is a Jedi teaching that she still holds a belief in that in death all are returned to the Force... Which means the same energy field that surrounds her and binds her is Anakin Skywalker. Obi-Wan Kenobi. Plo Koon. Every other Jedi that didn't make it through Order 66. Though the thought of their deaths brings a deep sadness she still cannot quite process, it also reminds her that when she wraps the Force around herself she isn't as alone as she feels. Sleep comes easier.

#febuwhump #febuwhumpday6 #insomnia #obi-wan kenobi #anakin skywalker #rex #ahsoka tano #it is 5am and i am posting this #because i too have insomnia #and i told myself i would post day 5 and 6 today #and well #before the sun comes up counts as today for me #this has been one of my WIPs for forever #so im glad to finally post it #but it needs some work #so let me know what you think!

19 notes · View notes

abused-sides · 4 years

Text

As A Reward [Whumptober 2020]

Note: I’m doing whumptober as a series. Check out the tag #whumptober 2020 v on my blog to read in order. Also on ao3.

Prompt: No. 14: Is Something Burning? [Branding]

Synopsis: Bates rewards Janus and Virgil

Trigger warnings: Cults, gaslighting/manipulation, restraints, kidnapped, non-con, humiliation, treating people like property, blood, knives, violence/beatings, a person in a cage, guns, body horror/gore, reference to murder/hate crimes/child death/minor character death, vomiting, non-consensual drugging, burn scar mentions and brief descriptions, off-screen dumpster diving, major characters talking about potentially dying (but I don’t write major character death so no worries there), branding/burning, let me know if I missed anything

Word count: 1475

October 15th. 7:33 pm.

Virgil shuffled forward with Bates in front of them and Styx behind, the end of Virgil’s leash wrapped around his wrist. Virgil’s and Janus’ fingers laced, gripping tightly. It hurt, but neither of them made a move to let go.

Virgil grimaced as they were led down the auditorium. Hands reached through the black from the audience, grabbing and touching as they passed. Styx smacked away anything that got too close to Virgil. Remus stood on the stage, behind a metal table with wheels. Two chairs sat in the centre.

Heart pounding, the two followed Bates up the steps and sat when directed. Styx forced their hands apart and tied their arms to the arms of the chair.

Bates stood in front of them, back to the audience, and smiled. “Do you two know why you’re here?”

Virgil glared. “Remus.”

“Yes, that’s right.” He cupped Virgil’s face and pressed their foreheads together. “I knew you’d come around,” he sighed.

Virgil’s grimace faded into a frown of confusion. Bates pulled away and strolled over to the table behind them. Virgil tried looking over his shoulders, but the large back of his chair and bound arms blinded him.

“You two have earned yourselves a reward.”

Janus and Virgil looked at Styx, who grinned at them.

“For passing my test.” Bates stepped back into their view, a kitchen torch in one hand and two cattle brands leaned over his shoulder.

Virgil was going to throw up. Judging by his face, Janus was, too.

“If you two wanted to leave yesterday, you would have. But Remus told me you didn’t even try.” He handed the torch to Styx.

“Remus… Knew about this test?” Virgil asked haltingly.

Bates shook his head. “No. I didn’t tell him. Though he knows me very well, I doubt he was surprised.” He looked to Styx. “We’re going to reward Janus first, if you don’t mind.”

He grinned. “Of course.”

Bates came closer and held the edge of the brand up to Janus’ face. Janus stiffened. “Where do you want it?”

It was the same symbol that marked each corner of Bates’ home and the family’s base, that was stitched on the hip of everyone’s pants. The design was simple, a lock inside a box, but it made Janus nauseous.

“I- I…”

Bates smiled hopefully. Janus knew the right answer— Somewhere proud, somewhere hard to cover up. As desperately as he wanted to say his stomach, his chest, his back, his thigh, that wasn’t an option.

He swallowed. “The back of my hand.”

He was sweating, itching to struggle and run. He wanted to scream at Bates and do whatever it took not to let that thing near him. He barely managed not to flinch as Styx lit the torch and the brand burned scarlet.

Janus gasped for breath, dizzy with panic. Bates shushed him. His hand turned to jelly as Bates flattened it out, his touch cold and plasticky on Janus’ wrist.

“You ready, love?”

Just fucking get it over with! “Yes.”

Janus hissed in pain as the brand sizzled his skin. His hand flexed hard, his toes curling, black spots floating in his vision. A musky, metallic smell filled the air, making Janus’ eyes water. It was only a few seconds, then Bates pulled the brand back, ripping some skin off with it. The screaming pain quickly subsided to a mild burning.

“It wasn’t that bad,” he promised Virgil, panting. “It wasn’t that bad.”

“Such a good boy, aren’t you?” Bates petted the smooth side of his face, smiling. “Keep being good and you’ll get your free-roam benefits back.”

“What about me?”

Bates glanced at Virgil. “That’s up to Styx. Ready, Styx?”

He picked up the other brand with a grin. “Absolutely.”

He handed Bates the torch and stepped close to Virgil.

“I want it on my stomach,” Virgil said flatly.

“Sorry, pet. You don’t get to pick yours.”

He pushed Virgil’s chin up and to the side, exposing his neck. Bates lit up the torch and Styx warmed the brand, Virgil’s chest rapidly rising and falling as his breaths came out shallow.

“Wait, wait, stop- FUCK!”

Virgil snapped out a stream of curses and Styx pressed the brand to his neck. Styx pulled the brand away, revealing his name burned into Virgil’s pale skin.

The audience applauded and cheered as Styx disappeared with the brands and Remus rushed forward with his backpack. He cut the rope from one of Virgil’s arms and pulled two clothes out.

“Hold that,” he murmured, resting one cloth against Virgil’s brand. Virgil held it as Remus hurried to Janus and covered his as well.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Virgil panted as Remus produced a tube of cream and kitchen plastic wrap.

Bates spoke as Remus worked. “You two have made so much progress lately. Everyone is so proud of you, especially you, Janus. You’re so close to this nightmare being over. I’m sure you’re both wanting to nap, huh?” He looked at Janus expectantly.

Janus nodded hesitantly.

“You should know what to do to finish up your day. Be a good example for Virgil.”

He swallowed. His brand-mark burned as Remus dabbed the cream over it, making him wince. “Thank you.” He cleared his throat and raised his trembling voice. “Thank you. This is a gift, I know that. Virgil does, too.”

“And who do you belong to? Who did you sell yourself to?”

“You, Bates. Only you.”

“And you, Virgil?”

He stayed silent for a moment, teeth buried in his split lip, jaw set. “Styx,” he finally spat out.

Bates drifted closer and cupped his face. “That’s right. Styx is your master. And you will keep being a good boy for him, won’t you? When I gave you to him, it was as a reward for bringing Janus back to us. And you will reward him… Won’t you?”

Virgil spoke through gritted teeth. “I will.”

“Helpless little angels,” he sighed. “Remus? Will you take them home, please?”

“Of course.”

He undid their binds and helped them to their feet. Bates held out Virgil’s leash, and Remus took it, clipping it on.

“I’ll follow,” he said, gentling Janus forward by the small of his back.

They stood awkwardly in the middle of the storage room. Virgil’s leash was rolled up and put in Remus’ bag. They stared.

After a few minutes, Remus started, “Are you feeling-”

“Did you know it was a test?” Virgil gripped Janus’ hand, staring at Remus with an unreadable expression.

He hesitated. “I had a hunch,” he admitted. “But I didn’t know for sure. Like he said… I know him pretty well.”

“Why didn’t you just tell us it was a test?” Janus whispered.

Remus looked between them with watery eyes. “Because I didn’t know. Not really. It was just a guess, and… And you wouldn’t have believed me anyway.”

He’d barely finished talking when Janus dropped Virgil’s hand to throw himself into Remus’ arms. Remus hugged him back hesitantly.

“I’m sorry,” Janus managed. “I’m sorry I didn’t trust you, I- I- Everything’s just so confusing, and-”

“You’re malnourished, dehydrated,” Remus murmured, “sleep deprived. And that didn’t really… Look great for me. I don’t blame you. I’m not upset.”

Janus looked up to meet his eyes. “I love you. I wish you came with us.”

Remus hesitantly tucked Janus’ hair behind his ear. “I’m glad I didn’t.”

They watched each other for a moment, silent, before Janus leaned up on his tip-toes and kissed Remus softly. Remus sighed and tangled his fingers in Janus’ knotted hair. They pulled away after a moment and Janus fell into step with Virgil.

“I’m, uh…” Virgil laughed weakly, “I’m sorry I punched you.”

Remus held his hands out uselessly. “I’m sorry I… Do everything I do to you on a daily basis. Tip of the iceberg.” He lowered his voice. “Just keep doing what you’re doing, okay? They’re starting to trust you. If it keeps going well, my plan will work.”

“About that…” Janus sat back in his spot and let Remus cuff him. Virgil curled up at the front of his cage, hesitating to go inside. “Do we have a timeline on that?”

Remus pursed his lips. “You won’t like it.”

“Never mind-”

“Tell us.”

He sighed. “A month.”

Janus flinched. Virgil buried his face in his hands.

“That can’t be sped up at all?” Janus begged.

“I- I don’t know,” Remus admitted, face contorted in worry. “Maybe? A bit? If you want to get out, and survive, we have to do it right. We can’t be sloppy, like last time.”

Janus looked away guiltily.

Remus bit his lip. “Just be patient, okay? And listen to me. Please.”

They both nodded. Virgil reluctantly crawled into his cage and Remus locked it up.

“Get some sleep,” he said softly, and left.

Kofi and commissions, 1 coffee = 300 words of your prompt

28 notes · View notes

imposterellie · 3 years

Text

“I can’t take this anymore.” Febuwhump Day 2

Have a little bit of something from my sleep deprived brain! I thought a slight continuation from day 1 was in order so enjoy some more Bucky whump!

**TW - swearing, slight violence, mild intentional harm**

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

The compound was filled with laughter and loud voices when Bucky and Steve arrived back from a mission. It hadn’t been a difficult one and was over within a couple of days. They’d managed to sort things out with the FBI and SHIELD and be debriefed too, and they were both looking forward to a few days off with the rest of the team.

“Hey guys!” Steve said when they entered the communal area where most of the avengers were sat. Many of them waved or said hi in response, not really looking at them until Bucky walked more into the room. They then fell silent, turning to look at him. Wanda grew pale and excused herself, leaving the room in a hurry. The rest of the team not daring to meet his eyes. He huffed and headed straight to his room for a shower.

Bucky asked Friday to lock his door then began to peel off his suit, he hadn’t taken it off since they’d left two days ago so it was a huge relief when he finally got to remove it. He spent a moment looking at his reflection in the mirror. He looked tired, and there was a set to his jaw that hadn’t been there before he got off the Quinjet. He made a point to unclench his teeth and stretch his aching muscles before turning the shower on to as hot as he could stand it, then got into the shower to wash the grime off his body.

Bucky was partway through shampooing his hair when Friday alerted him that there was someone at his door.

“Tell them I’ll be out in a minute; I’ll just finish off in here.” He said to the AI.

“Of course, sir” Friday responded. Bucky made no effort to speed up the end of his shower. His visitor could wait whilst he scorched himself under the burning water to try and rid himself of the funny feeling crawling up his spine. It had been doing that every time he was in the compound since the training mission catastrophe. He’d forgiven Wanda immediately, making sure that he found her as soon as he was discharged by Dr Cho to tell her as such. Tony had taken a little longer, and he was still quite pissed with him for suggesting cheating in the first place, but even Bucky couldn’t deny that no one knew how Wanda’s powers would have affected him.

The problem was that everyone had begun to treat him like glass. It was a though they thought one wrong move would send him dropping to the floor again. He couldn’t get it across to them, that it was a one-time thing, so they continued to avoid him as best they could. All of them except Steve of course, Steve knew that Bucky was fine but even reassurances from his best friend didn’t stop him from feeling like an outcast; especially after he had put so much effort into building the Avengers’ trust. He sighed heavily and turned off the shower, grabbing a towel to wrap around his waist.

Upon opening the door, he was greeted with the presence of Peter Parker, Tony Stark’s protégée, who looked like he was going to be sick with nerves.

“Hello Mr… um Mr Bucky Sir.” Peter mumbled. Bucky moved to walk past him and begin to dry off and get dressed.

“Hey kid, is everything okay?” He didn’t look over at Peter as he talked, trying to make the boy as comfortable around him as possible, make him see that he was just as normal as he had been before the accident. Peter swallowed.

“Um yeah- yeah, Mr Stark got takeout and wondered if you wanted to join us? He got shawarma.” Peter was fidgeting, clearly feeling very awkward. His eyes grew wide as he suddenly had a realisation. “But- but if you don’t like shawarma, we can get something else! You don’t have to have that! Just tell me what you want instead, and I’ll get it for you.”

Bucky sighed again, feeling anger rise up in his chest, but he reigned it in, the kid was just trying to be nice.

“Shawarma sounds great Peter! Tell Tony I’ll be out in 5 minutes.” Peter nodded quickly and then turned to leave. “Oh, and Peter?” Peter stopped short at his name, practically holding his breath. “Tell those guys to save me some, we both know what they’re like!” Bucky watched as Peter nodded again and hurried out of the door, closing it behind him.

Bucky sighed heavily and finished off getting dressed. He tried his best to remove the bad mood he was currently in from his facial expression, but it didn’t seem to be working. He was just so mad at his friends, and at himself, for changing everything. For treating him like he was something to be scared of or careful about. He was a super soldier for Christ’s sake! He collected himself and exited his room, dressed casually in a pair of jeans and a nice shirt, with the top 3 buttons undone as he was too hot from his shower.

The room went silent as he entered, for the second time that day. Bucky plastered a smile onto his face and sat down at the large table. Steve pushed a box towards him, and conversation tentatively resumed. It was very clear that they were all avoiding having to engage with him in both nervousness and something else – something that he couldn’t quite put his finger on. The hushed conversations continued whilst he ate, and he felt anger begin to build up in him. His food started to taste a bit like carboard, his metal hand clenching involuntarily.

“That’s enough!” he yelled, slamming his fist onto the table. He noticed that Peter jumped at the noise, but he didn’t have the capacity to feel guilty in that moment. Everyone’s eyes were on him, staring in shock. “I’m damn sick of you all treating me like a piece of glass! I’m not just gonna fucking shatter in front of you.” He took a deep shaking breath, staring down at the table.

“I can’t take this anymore. I feel like an outcast all over again, and I didn’t even do anything!”

Steve reached over and grasped his hand, shooting him a small smile as he did so. A hint of pride was visible on his face, which meant that Steve had been waiting for this outburst for quite a while. There was a beat of silence whilst the group processed what had just happened. Surprisingly, Peter was the first to speak up.

“I’m sorry we made you feel like that Mr Buck- sorry, Bucky,” he corrected himself quickly, “I promise not to get nervous talking to you anymore. I actually really like you.” Bucky smiled gently at him, grateful for the vote of confidence.

Tony then spoke up.

“I take full blame for all of this. I called a meeting whilst you were knocked out in the medbay, and I told everyone to be careful around you. I just felt so guilty for being the cause of the Wanda-“ Wanda shot him a dark look, “I mean – the training incident – that I didn’t want to risk it happening again.” He stood slowly and looked directly at Bucky, outstretching an arm as an offering for a handshake. “If I promise not to make decisions like that without your consent again, will you promise not to scare the shit out of my kid again?”

A peace offering. Bucky hesitated.

“I promise everything will go back to normal.” Tony looked thoughtful, “we can even rent one of those shitty 80’s action movies you like for movie night and I’ll force everyone to watch the whole damn thing.”

“Promise?”

Tony chuckled, “Yeah, I promise.”

Bucky nodded and stood, grasping Tony’s outstretched arm in his flesh one, shaking it firmly. The glint of humour had returned to his eye and he looked contemplative as he sat back down.

“I think I’ll go for Terminator for movie night, I don’t think we’ve watched it enough.” Bucky joked. There was a collective round of groans and chuckles from the group as the avengers softened around him once more. The conversations restarted with a renewed vigour and Bucky smiled, pleased that things could finally go back to the way they were. Steve grinned at him.

“I knew you’d do that sooner rather than later.”

“What do you mean?”

“Sam and I had a bet on how long it would take you to lose your cool. He said a week, I said 3 days.” Steve paused, smiling, “Sam owes me 10 bucks.” He began laughing as Bucky whacked him in the chest, and Sam grumbled on his other side, discreetly passing over the money from his losing bet.

#bucky barnes #febuwhump2021 #febuwhumpday2 #captain america #steve rogers #tony stark #bucky whump #bucky barnes needs a hug #protective Steve rogers #irondad

12 notes · View notes

my-happy-little-bean · 4 years

Text

Constellation Observations

pairing: logince (woah bean isn’t writing logicality what’s this–) warnings: mild swearing, insecurity, talks of burn out, allusions to a depressive episode words: 3456

summary: Logan begins to write a series of observations to learn more about Roman; and as he does, he grows to understand his universe (and perhaps falls in love with it too).

a/n - somehow, reading stuff by @sign-from-god-complex inspired me to go out of my comfort zone and write some logince fluff. it’s not the most revolutionary logince content out there, but it out here :p plus i wrote this whilst lying down in my backyard again so consider this my way of giving you a piece of my good day :”) also i am still trying to figure out the next golden slumbers chapter so i needed to give my brain a break :pp

enjoy!

[read on ao3~]

---

Observation #1: Roman always picks at the grass in the Imagination, even if he is the one who grows it. Reasons for the needless destruction of his own creation remain unclear at the moment.

Perhaps it was because he was exhausted beyond belief, but Logan just couldn’t stop staring at Roman.

Logan had his notebook in his lap like he always did; though this time, he was sitting on the grass of the Imagination, not in his desk chair. It was late at night as well, maybe 2:30 AM. However, the stars in the sky flickered in a way that made Logan believe in the possibility of a timeless day.

It did not surprise Logan that he was still awake, given all the work that had to be completed. Thomas’ work schedule for the week was impacted by a rather unwelcome last-minute change, so Logan, of course, had to take a figurative evening shift.

What surprised Logan was that Roman was awake too.

It seemed as though it was going to be a sleepless night for both of them. Roman brushed off his presence in front of the coffee machine as nothing; a mere necessity in light of the new change. Though in hindsight, Logan knew more. The shift in schedule was a result of a production issue, which meant that the idea had to be re-worked. So of course Roman would be awake.

Roman, ever so kind of him, hence decided that Logan’s presence in the kitchen was a ‘sign from the heavens’ that he needed company (when really, it was just the result of Logan needing a refill). He then brewed coffee for the both of them and invited Logan to spend the night in the Imagination.

Logan would never admit it, but he was always intrigued by the Imagination. It was almost like Roman’s secluded workplace, separate from the Mind Palace and the rest of the sides. Not many of them ever really thought it was worth the visit; after all, they all had their own responsibilities, and the Imagination was simply Roman’s. However, Logan’s curiosity couldn’t help but lunge at any opportunity to visit; and while he knew none of it was real, he always left feeling rather awakened and alive.

So that was how he found himself sitting on a grassy hill in the Imagination, with Roman beside him, lying down on his stomach with his elbows propping him up slightly. Logan hadn’t touched his notebook in what felt like hours, only lifting it to mask a yawn. Roman, however, appeared to be busy picking at the grass below him.

“Do you have nothing productive to be doing right now?” Logan said, breaking the silence between the two. “Thomas needs a new idea before his friends arrive in the afternoon for shooting the revised takes of his video.” A pause. Logan added hesitantly, “I believe I cannot continue without your final verdict.”

“Aww, you can just say you need me, Erlenmeyer trash!” Roman said in a pouty voice; one that made Logan tear his eyes away from the dramatic sight. Determined to be seen, he rolled over onto Logan’s lap, flinging his hand onto his forehead. “Just say that you need me like one needs the air above – that you need me like one needs the ocean and all that it bears– Logan! Just tell me you can’t live without me!”

A beat of, quite frankly, unapproved silence. Logan just scoffed.

“That is obviously not the case.”

Roman rolled his eyes, but kept his energy steady.

“Anyway, I’m workin’ on it!” he exclaimed defensively, yet Logan couldn’t find it in himself to believe him. After all, Roman wasn’t even looking at him.

Instead, he rolled over to a patch of grass further away from Logan, landing in the same position as before. He then lowered himself ever-so-slightly, the grass nearly grazing his nose, before slowly plucking an individual piece of grass from the ground.

Logan sighed. “Roman, I do not see how your inefficient gardening tactics reflect that you are ‘working on it’.”

Roman looked up at him dramatically, his eyes narrowing at him.

“I’m rewiring his brain, Logan.”

Logan placed the blame for what happened next entirely on his sleep-deprivation. He blinked, the words registering in his mind. Roman, not breaking eye contact with Logan, then placed the single strand of grass in a patch not too far away from where it originally grew. Logan watched in some kind of twisted horror as the grass straightened in its new place, then moved in the same way the rest of the grass did.

“Are we–” He stood up frantically, grabbing his tie. His next words come out as a hushed whisper. “Is this Thomas’...”

A wide, pearly grin. “Figuratively, Specs.”

His eyes widened, staring at the grass he once sat on. If the grass—and hence, the Imagination—was a mere representation of Thomas’ brain, that meant– well that meant he was sitting on Thomas’ mind. The breakthrough, no matter how revolutionary, was utterly horrifying. What if he had stepped on an important synapse, damaging it permanently? What if that rock he idly kicked on the way to this hill represented a part of Thomas so essential to his development? What if–

Suddenly, Roman broke into loud, hyena-esque laughter. Logan stared at him, his eyes blown wide with fear when it suddenly hit him.

Logan took a deep breath and resumed his place on the grass slowly, adjusting his glasses.

“Now is not the time for falsehoods.”

Roman wiped a tear that was probably just for show. “Oh come on, Oscar the Protractor-Pouch; it was really funny.”

“Not in the slightest.”

(Logan would never admit it, but he found it a little amusing. An infinitesimal amount, some might say. At least, in its execution; not its purpose. It was because he was tired though, nothing more.)

“Besides, we needed something to wake both of us up,” Roman said, swiftly rolling back to Logan’s side. He softly bumped against Logan’s knee.

It was flawed logic, but Logan could appreciate that the logic was at least there.

Logan lifted his pencil from his ear to resume writing—or at least, to resume his attempts at writing—then paused.

“What were you doing, then?” he asked, looking down at Roman. He shrugged.

“I noticed some grass that was out of place.”

He said that as if it were obvious.

Logan continued to stare at Roman, who was still picking at grass absentmindedly. He stared at Roman while he bouncing some possible ideas off of him. And while Logan contributed a great deal to their conversation, he couldn’t quite focus on anything else other than the clear image of Roman.

Roman, whose creation was so vast yet so meticulous; whose attention to detail was almost too impressive to be true. Roman, his companion with a work attitude and ethic that bewildered Logan to great extents. Roman, who worked so hard for so long on a job Logan dismissed as something that could be done in one’s sleep. Roman who, Logan suddenly realized, didn’t sleep much at all.

And that was when Logan truly saw Roman for the first time, under the stars and on the carefully-crafted grass of the Imagination.

So, naturally, he wrote the observation down in his notebook to possibly revisit later.

---

Observation #12: When Roman is upset, he runs his hand through his hair; and he does so as if no one else could notice.

“You are not listening to me, Roman.”

“Uh, I don’t think I like what you’re saying, which means I’m probably wasting some brain cells listening to you, Sir-Nerds-A-Lot!”

“That is not my name. And that is not how brain cells work. You would know that if you were actually listening to me.”

Roman huffed, running a hand through his hair. He threw his head back, as if motioning at the ceiling to come watch yet another one of their disagreements unfold.

As much as he didn’t bother himself with feeling, Logan couldn’t help but feel bad for Thomas, who was standing helplessly in between their quarrel. It was always like this when it was just the two of them; Virgil nor Patton being present to mediate the situation.

He could possibly stretch this illogical guilt to Roman as well. He had not meant to anger the other side, but he just couldn’t help it. He was frustrated with his behaviour, how he was talking as if he– and hence, Thomas– were invincible. It was reckless, it was foolish, it was...well, stupid.

Still, Logan knew now where the figurative line had to be drawn. It didn’t take many arguments with Roman for him to recognize when his anger reached a point that was impossible to work with.

Logan took a deep breath, adjusting his tie.

“Okay. I see now that we are at a figurative crossroad with this discussion,” he said as cooly as he could. “Perhaps we should take a break.”

Thomas blew out a sigh of relief, throwing his hands up in the air.

“Thank you!” he cried out, already moving past Logan and towards the kitchen. “I’m gonna get a glass of water.”

“Yes, yes.” Logan noted the way Roman scrambled to pick up his own sanity as he spoke. “Let’s all take five.” He eyed Logan. “Even dunces need breaks between their...their dunce-ing.”

Logan pinched the bridge of his nose, letting a bit of his own frustration slip.

“You are one to talk.”

Roman tilted his head at him. “Oh really?”

Shit. Logan pushed his glasses up, trying to maintain his composure.

“You are burned out, Roman,” Logan carefully said. “That is to say, you have overworked yourself not only in this conversation, but in your work in general. Therefore, it is not illogical to conclude that your burn-out is one possible reason why you are lashing out at me.”

Roman’s eyes went wide. “What are you–”

“Which is why we can resume talking about this matter at a later date. After all, you are not thinking logically. You are dismissing Thomas’ well-being for the sake of work, you are stressing him out to immeasurable extents — this isn’t you.”

“What do you know about me?!”

Logan blinked. Roman looked as if he was frozen in time, still lunged forward at him. Despite the distance, Logan could see the darkened rings under his eyes.

He didn’t answer Roman’s question for a while. It was most likely rhetorical, but even if it wasn’t, he didn’t know how to respond. After all, twelve recorded observations and a whole lifetime with Roman didn’t help Logan truly understand him.

But as he stared at Roman, who was surely close to tears, he couldn’t shake the familiar pang in his chest.

Through the glassy space between them was a reflection.

“I know myself,” Logan responded quietly. “It’s...it’s not good for anyone, Roman.”

It was quiet between them for a while. Roman drew himself back slowly, as if burnt by his words; and for a split second, Logan feared he had said the wrong thing.

Then, Roman wordlessly nodded at him. His stare burrowing through him like a bullet through a mirror. Before Logan could say anything else, he sunk out before Thomas returned, leaving Logan to conclude their discussion alone. His fear faded into a slight buzz in his chest.

(His tripedations were later reassured when he found Roman sleeping in front of the TV in the Mind Palace, Moana playing hazily in the background.

Logan sat beside him, stared at him for a bit, and then pulled out his notebook. He wrote something about the way Roman slept—peaceful, despite the storm behind his eyelids—before slowly nodding off as well.)

---

Observation #56: When Roman sings to Virgil, he does so by changing the song to fit a minor key. To Patton, he mostly sings him songs in C major. To himself, it varies. Perhaps he’s just practicing.

It was a hard day for Logan, and it was a long day for anyone else. When logic ran itself thin, there wasn’t much for Thomas to do other than wallow alone in his bed.

Logan felt Virgil and Patton on his skin all day, clouding his logical reasoning until it was barely there. It made Logan feel stupid and helpless; like he was some kind of joke.

On days like this, Roman was surprisingly the figurative glue of the group. He would visit Virgil’s room first and listen to his worries, helping him channel his emotions into poetry and songs. Then, he’d bring Patton cookies and watch home-videos with him until Patton felt comfortable moving on.

And Logan wasn’t sure why Roman bothered to visit him, but he did.

They couldn’t say much in Logan’s room, so they played along with the unspoken laws of his space and thought quietly to themselves instead. Roman was the only other side who understood why Logan’s room was mostly quiet; or at least was the only one to accept it. When no one talked, there was the smallest amount of room for subjectivity of any sorts.

Logan liked to think Roman found the idea clever; but judging by the way Roman looked at him with those eyes resembling that of a small puppy, Logan realized that he just found it sad.

Still, Logan’s room seemed to accept Roman’s classical music.

(So did Logan.)

At one point, Roman nudged his head to the bookshelf in Logan’s room, seemingly asking for a recommendation. The two leave his room with a few books in hand and smiles bigger than they initially were; Roman’s brighter, and Logan’s now there.

They make their way to the Imagination where Logan now spent a lot of his free time. Roman didn’t even need to extend an invitation anymore; all he had to do was stand in Logan’s doorway and nod at him. Then, Logan would conjure up a new notebook and follow suit.

(Logan found it strange how Roman didn’t notice the piles of notebooks labelled ‘Observations of the Imagination’. Or if he did, he made an effort not to pay attention to that corner of the room.)

(Logan was also relieved he kept his own personal notebook close, yet out of sight.)

It was halfway through Roman’s dramatic reading of “A Brief History of Time” when Logan broke into sobs. It was spontaneous and cruel that the tears couldn’t will themselves out of existence– that they even existed in the first place– but Roman didn’t seem to mind.

He didn’t mind how Logan ranted about how illogical it was that he was crying, or how illogical it was that Thomas felt like he had nothing when he had everything. He didn’t mind how Logan cursed at himself for two minutes straight in an indecipherable mess of the English language. He didn’t mind that Logan called himself ‘faulty’ and ‘broken’ (but he did frown sadly).

And he didn’t mind when Logan laid his head on his shoulder, so drained from the sudden burst of emotion that he couldn’t lift himself up anymore.

“You need to do that more, Specs,” he murmured when enough silence had passed. He took Logan’s hand into his own and rubbed it gently with his thumb.

“Do what more?” Logan scoffed, his voice hoarse from the strain. “Talk illogically?”

Roman laughed, pressing a kiss to Logan’s hair.

“Please.” Logan’s breath hitched at the sincerity. “I promise I’ll try to listen.”

Neither of them mentioned the kiss for the rest of the night because Roman started singing before Logan even had the chance to question its occurrence.

And when Roman sang to Logan, the key didn’t matter at all.

What mattered more was the sound. It couldn’t be contained by terminology, but rather by how it danced in the air that hung above them before it was carried off by the wind. His voice ran across his skin through goosebumps, as if someone wrapped Logan in velvet sheets. It sifted seamlessly through each verse, smooth as caramel and filled with its sweet, sugary taste.

Roman cared for the song just as much as he cared for his creation. He picked at each note like a strand of grass, as if carefully pressing them into imaginary sheet music in the dirt.

Logan would never be able to find the words because he kept going back to the same one:

Beautiful, beautiful, beautiful.

And for a split second, the clouds in his mind parted, and the conclusion he reached seemed crystal clear.

Roman was beautiful.

---

Observation #92: It has been decided that these observations no longer apply to a person, but rather to a constellation. Evidence for this conclusion can be found in the freckles around his nose; or in his bright, shiny smile; or in the fact that his spirit, if those were to exist, simply housed a million, trillion stars – an entire universe, one might say.

At least, that is what it feels like nowadays.

Logan only understood love once he understood Roman.

Roman was fire, burning and warm. At one point, Logan had no problem describing Roman as his own personal hell – though at this point, that conclusion wasn’t even that far off.

Because it hurt sometimes to look at Roman; to see him laugh with the others in a dazzling display of light and sound. It hurt to see him surrounded by love Logan wasn’t able to pick apart and understand, let alone reflect.

He wasn’t broken. Roman made him understand that all too well.

But he was incomplete; and it didn’t take long for Logan to realize what he was missing.

There was a hypothetical theory called space dementia; where astronauts in orbit become so entranced by the immense vastness of space that they grow obsessed with its beauty.

And while there wasn’t much research done on the subject, Logan knew that his heart pulled towards the sight of Roman.

Roman was unlike anything Logan had ever seen or felt before. He was a million stars all wrapped up in a cluster in his chest, a vessel for something far more beautiful than this world deserved.

Perhaps that was why he held himself so tightly on the nights they would spend sleeping in the Imagination together (Observation #45). Perhaps it was because he was holding onto that cluster so tight; tight enough that no stars would escape. After all, the tiniest of disturbances would cause the whole universe to fall apart. He was as delicate as the velvet skies they laid under, yet burned so brightly when given the chance.

And when Roman showed him even a glimpse of his creation, Logan was, for lack of a better word, star-struck.

The piece Logan was missing took the form of a star, its edges worn and old as time itself. And it shot itself across the sky every night, as if flinging itself in their direction.

There was no set definition for what it was because Roman changed it every day. However, the idea remained the same.

Logan was missing Roman’s love.

“How long have you known?” Roman whispered as they stood on their hill, the Imagination stretching far beyond them.

“I do not know,” Logan replied, though the word ‘forever’ rests on his tongue. He took a step forward and grabbed Roman’s hands. “But I came to my realizations not too long ago. I decided that it would be illogical for me to hide this information from you, so I have decided to tell you now. I hope this does not change things.” A pause. “At least, changes them negatively.”

“Logan…” Roman’s eyes looked so soft. It made Logan’s heart ache and made him vow to love Roman as passionately as he could, if given the chance.

“I know it does not make much sense that I can harbour such a feeling but I...I do.” He mustered up a smile. “I love you.”

“You can feel, nerd,” Roman giggled, taking a step closer towards Logan as well. His forehead pressed against his, and the tips of their noses grazed each other’s.

He was so close. Logan’s skin caught on fire as Roman cupped his cheek, his other arm holding him tightly around his waist.

“I love how you feel,” Roman murmured. Logan’s breath hitched at the words. “And I love you too.”

Observation #93: There will never truly be enough words capable of describing the feeling of kissing Roman. But one thing is for certain.

He is air and he is light, and he is the missing piece.

After all, his lips fit almost perfectly.

(Though further experimentation is necessary in order to reach a solid conclusion.)

---

click here for a new and improved masterlist of all my writing if you’re interested ^v^

#sanders sides #sanders sides fanfic #sanders sides fic #thomas sanders #thomas sanders fanfic #thomas sanders fic #logan sanders #roman sanders #logince #logince fic #logince fanfic #logan/roman #logic/creativity #gabbie writes things

68 notes · View notes

werevulvi · 3 years

Note

Hi, could you tell me more about your autism and diagnosis and how you deal with it, how old you were diagnosed

I don't know a lot about my autism, tbh, as I never bothered to read up on it and I was never properly informed on it. But what I do know is that I learned slowly as a kid, learned to walk at age 3, was very clumsy (like medically abnormally clumsy physically, could barely run at all and couldn't climb, etc) required special treatment to learn how to eat as a toddler because I hated the sensory experience of solid food and chewing, I was incapable of understanding sarcasm, interpreted everything literally, I was stimming a lot, had monotone body language and speech, etc. I was very obviously "different" according to my parents already from around age 1 or 2, and required literally constant attention for the first 4 years of my life. Started daycare at age 4, in small groups.

Then as I started school at age 6, apparently the school nurse had told my parents that I'm probably autistic, so I consider that my "inofficial diagnosis" but they decided to ignore that and didn't tell me (until 10 years later.) I was bullied in school for being "the weird kid" by both classmates and teachers who thought I was a retard and annoying, basically, I guess. I was called a freak and weirdo a lot. But like I was proudly a weirdo, and resented normativity.

As I got up into ages 10-12 my depression and DID symptoms (alter) kinda took over and became more prominent than my autism symptoms, as I wasn't as physically clumsy anymore and started learning social cues. My mental health continued to decline over the next few years, until I sought out therapy on my own at age 16. It led me to doing my first few suicide attempts, which led me to ending up at a closed psychiatric ward.

While staying there for a few weeks, I got evaluated for autism (without knowing that's what I was tested for) as well as a few physical things, such as my hearing impairment and chronic headache. And those tests led to an official Asperger Syndrome diagnosis, when I was 16, by the very end of year 2005. I also got diagnosed with borderline psychosis and mild depression, and got pumped full of anti-depressants and anti-psychotic (neuroleptic) drugs. Then my mom finally told me that she basically always knew about my autism, and I was really pissed at her for not having told me before. I resented my autism diagnosis right from the start, and the older I got, the more I resented it. Never identified with it, only ever saw it as a huge burden.

Then throughout the rest of my teens, I went to a school for neurodivergent people (basically upper high school) but still flunked it. I was a complete and utter mess, and got little to no actual therapy. They just kept shoving me around from one psychiatric department to another, due to my comorbid issues, no one could help me, it seemed. Every once in a while I'd make another half assed suicide attempt to make them take me seriously, which only worked for a few months at a time. In total, I've made 19 suicide attemps over 12 years. Oh lord, psychiatry was so bad!

Adulthood came along and I got benefitted with sickness compensation, and got my first apartment at age 20. It didn't go great. I accidentally flooded it and had to move out, and didn't manage to keep it clean or anything while I lived there. I was barely functional and alcoholic, constantly self-harming, just to try to manage attending school. Despite getting help from caretakers offered by the state (?) weekly, I was really dysfunctional. I switched apartments several times, and kept flunking school while trying to live my miserable life, always hanging by a thread. Until I moved back to my parents at age 23. They had moved to a miserable island far away from all my friends. Got an apartment on that island close to my parents, but my issues continued being the same level of awful, up until about age 27.

What this has to do with my autism is that... uh, I basically understand it as that it impedes on my executive function really dramatically, and like although I can physically do pretty much anything, mentally I just somehow can't. Especially repeatedly, and often enough. Like I can't keep any routine for the life of me, not even simple shit like sleep cycle, eating habits, brushing my teeth, etc. Let alone school or a job, or even hobbies. Everything is infrequent and too seldom, if at all. So everything in my life keeps falling apart as I basically have no foundation to stand on, and I get sensory overload suuuuper easily. So like just going shopping/cleaning/laundry/hobbies/school/anything for half an hour can drain me significantly and make me incapable of managing doing anything else for the rest of that entire day. It's very hard for me to explain, but it's like I only ever have 3 spoons per day, but most things requitre 10+ spoons, so I go backwards on my energy resources a lot and end up having to rest for DAYS after just one hour's activity.

At age 27 I ditched the social service caretakers, as they were seriously depriving me of my privacy while being largely unhelpful, and I began to finally try to pull myself together. I still get a lot of help from my mom, with anything from paying my bills and grocery shopping, to driving me places and dealing with soul-sucking authorities for me. This takes off a lot of the burden and allows me to manage doing at least a few things on my own, like working out, cleaning (yay I manage keeping my apartment clean nowadays!), laundry, occasional shopping, art projects, online socialising, etc. I still go to therapy biweekly but it's still largely unhelpful. At least I managed to make them stop tossing me around between departments like a football though, and I'm still gonna try to get some proper trauma therapy, and maybe also look into that adhd group I was promised last year, if it'll ever resume again post-corona...

I've still never had a job in my life and still have incomplete grades. But I got permanent sickness compensation now, so that's neat. At least I don't have to worry financially. I'm also trying to get started with some "work training" stuff which is basically "pretend work" for people who can't work, just to have something to do. I'll most likely be granted acces to that. However, it seems irony is that most of those are located out in the middle of nowhere where no buses go, and I can't afford a fucking car or driver's licence because I can't work. Mom probably won't drive me several times a week for that. Fucking fantastic. Makes me almost wanna kill someone... argh! Those little things really piss me off.

Life is absolutely not going the way I want and I blame my autism for it, mostly. I am drowning in frustration, and my anger issues making me scream my lungs out in pure despair, shows that. I'm considered offically disabled due to my autism, and it just fucking sucks ass. How lonely, under-stimulated yet easily over-stimulated, bored, meaningless and unfulfilled my life is. There are far more severely autistic people out there who somehow manage to live far more functional lives, and I'm jealous of that. I dunno how to break free from this misery. It feels like the only thing I've ever managed to accomplish in life is transitioning genders, and making art that I don't wanna sell. I wanna have a "normal" job, a car and driver's licence, I wanna have cats and a social life, I want parties at night clubs again, I want hobbies outside of my home; hookups, friends and lovers; I want to be able to have a functional romantic life with someone I can marry and start a family with.

But is any of that ever gonna happen? I hope so, but it feels bleak. Because my autism feels like such a huge burden on my life, and a huge hindrence to my dreams and goals... like I'm over 30 already and still a disabled and having my mom living half my life for me, miserable mess and not given any useful therapy, I'm left to my own vices to figure out how to adult... Because of all that, I hate my autism and I wish there was a cure, I swear to fuck. So for your question, how I deal with it: not fantastically. Not sure if you wanted a relay of my entire life, but I hope that’s okay! Didn’t know how else to answer your questions.

3 notes · View notes

ao3feed-stucky · 4 years

Link

by rox_fanfics

Sitting down by a lake in what he assumed was France, based on the current world maps, Steve felt a presence behind him. It was a man, as far a he could tell, and he was alone.

“I’m not a soldier, if you’re wondering,” Steve said, dipping his fingers into the water and feeling it warm up as touched it. The man behind him seemed, startled that Steve had sensed him, and he couldn’t be blamed for that. Steve had always been able to sense these things.

“How can I be sure?” The man asked, walking closer to Steve with light footsteps.

Steve chuckled, “I know better than to get tied up in this nonsense, it will all be considered ancient history in two centuries,” he dipped his feet into the lake, humming happily as the water adjusted to his preferred temperature.

Steve is basically an immortal being who falls in love with Bucky during WW2 only to find him in the modern world again

Words: 1137, Chapters: 1/?, Language: English

Fandoms: The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Captain America (Movies)

Rating: Mature

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Categories: M/M

Characters: Steve Rogers, James "Bucky" Barnes, Other Character Tags to Be Added

Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers

Additional Tags: Immortality, Immortals, Immortal Steve Rogers, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers, Bisexual Steve Rogers, Steve Feels, Protective Steve, POV Steve Rogers, Bucky Barnes Feels, Bucky Barnes Needs a Hug, Bucky Barnes Recovering, Winter Soldier Bucky Barnes, Non-Serum Steve Rogers/Winter Soldier Bucky Barnes | Shrinkyclinks, Cute, Mild Hurt/Comfort, immortal beings, steve is kind of a god, i guess, idk - Freeform, Quote: I'm with you 'til the end of the line, Author Is Sleep Deprived, Author Is Not Religious

#Bucky #AO3 works tagged 'James Barnes/Steve Rogers'#ao3feed #stucky #steve rogers #bucky barnes #c

15 notes · View notes

queenwenqing · 4 years

Text

Day 2: Blossom

lil entry for the Untamed Spring Fest 2020

Pairing: Wen Qing/Jiang Yanli

Words: ~1.7k

Summary: The first warmth of spring usually brought Jiang Yanli with it. This year it brought a message, one of love, and regret: This would be the first year in quite some time that Jiang Yanli wouldn’t be able to visit Wen Qing at Dafan Mountain.

The first warmth of spring usually brought Jiang Yanli with it. This year it brought a message, one of love, and regret: This would be the first year in quite some time that Jiang Yanli wouldn’t be able to visit Wen Qing at Dafan Mountain.

Wen Qing understood, as Sect Leader of the Yunmeng Jiang Sect Yanli was always busy, and it was a miracle, really, that their tradition of annual early-spring visits had remained uninterrupted for so long. Setting a tray of pastries aside, Wen Qing began heating up some water for tea instead of doing her best to arrange the pastries on her nicest tableware.

Sipping on her tea a minute later, Wen Qing considered her plans for the next few days. She suddenly had a lot more time on her hands. A crack sounded through the otherwise quiet cabin, and Wen Qing loosened her grip on the teacup, setting it down. Right. Maybe it was time to get out of the house, she decided, get some fresh air. Tend to the gardens, maybe?

Winters were mild on Dafan Mountain but some herbs didn’t make it through regardless. Surveying the state of the herb gardens, Wen Qing decided she’d go for a walk and gather some fresh herbs to plant instead of sowing the seeds she kept in jars in her cabin. She wouldn’t have to wait for them to sprout and, more importantly, she’d have something to do for the day that would take her mind off. Things.

♡

The meadows of Dafan Mountain were already blooming, bright yellows and oranges standing out between dark tree trunks and earthy green grass and leaves. Wen Qing passed them by, stopping sometimes to pick a few flowers to bring Granny Wen later. A low breeze rustled through the trees, the sun sending gentle rays. Wen Qing faced the sun, but found it lacking in warmth. She’d already found most of the herbs she was looking for and decided to slowly head back. A couple hours had passed at this point, the basket on her back half full, and if she spent the rest of the day re-planting the herbs she had collected and maybe having a cup of tea with Granny Wen when she delivered the small bouquet of flowers Wen Qing wouldn’t have too much time to think about the absence of Yanli in Wen Qing’s house (and her arms).

Wen Qing kept walking for a little while longer, heading back up the mountain to reach the village when something caught her eye: A meadow, but instead of bright yellow and orange flowers it was dotted with delicate purple flowers. Wen Qing must have wandered further down the mountain than she realised, as these flowers were generally found in lower altitudes. They were lovely, barely taller than Wen Qing’s hand was long, stems a healthy green with narrow leaves, the blossoms starting out a dark purple and fading to a pale lavender colour closer to the stems. These flowers were brought by the first warmth of spring, just as Jiang Yanli usually was, and their colour was very similar to the Yunmeng Jiang colours. The petals’ pale purple towards the stems was exactly the shade of Yanli’s favourite robes.

Without thinking much about it, Wen Qing knelt down and collected around a dozen or so flowers, roots and all, and then picked some more for a small bouquet to keep in her cabin. One of them she placed in her hair just behind her left ear. Then Wen Qing continued back towards the Wen village, letting her thoughts run free for the first time that day. She didn’t think of Jiang Yanli immediately, focusing on her surroundings at first. The sun was barely shining through the trees, the shadows of the leaves painting patterns on the ground. Wen Qing walked along a gentle stream that lead her back to the Wen village, where she greeted the people she met before continuing up the path to her cabin. It was only barely removed from the village, a minute or so further up the mountain than the other houses, surrounded by small herb gardens as some of the other villagers’ cabins were. The demand for Wen medicine had increased significantly over the past few years, as had the demand for their teachings.

Wen Qing left the basket with herbs and flowers by her door, only gathering the loose flowers to take them inside with her. Leaving a pot of water over her small fireplace, Wen Qing began to tie together a bouquet of yellow and orange flowers for Granny Wen, then also tied the purple flowers together, placing both in small water-filled phials to keep them fresh. Next, she made a small pot of tea and took it and a cup outside, setting them down on the table there, and began to work.

♡

Wen Qing arrived at Granny Wen’s house a couple hours later, bouquet and a cloth with pastries in hand. And some soil on her cheeks, it turned out, as Granny Wen shook her head smiling and rubbed her sleeves over Wen Qing’s face to clean it. “You’ve been working in the gardens, I see,” Granny Wen commented, and Wen Qing smiled sheepishly. They sat down on the bench outside Granny Wen’s house, sharing pastries and a pot of tea.

“Did you enjoy your walk?” Granny Wen asked, a small smile playing around her lips.

“I did. Some of the herbs in my garden didn’t make it through the winter, and with the cold that’s going around the village at the moment I figured it would be best to stock up on fresh ones so we don’t have to wait for anything to sprout to make medicine, should we need to.”

“That’s very thoughtful of you. Did you find anything else interesting on your walk?” Wen Qing blushed at Granny Wen’s knowing look, and thought of the newly planted purple flowers in her gardens and the small bouquet on her bedside table.

“I did indeed. How did you know?” Wen Qing replied, sipping on her tea. It was a bit too hot, but she could blame the heat in her cheeks on it, at least.

“Where have you left your head today, my dear?” Granny Wen reached out and gently tapped the side of Wen Qing’s head, just above her left ear. Startled, Wen Qing remembered the flower she had tucked there barely a few hours ago.

“Oh.”

Granny Wen chuckled, then reached for Wen Qing’s hand on the table. “You should go and visit her next month. It’s a pity Sect Leader Jiang couldn’t make it this year, spring suits Dafan Mountain. But that shouldn’t deprive you two of spending time together.”

“But what about the-“ Wen Qing began, only to be interrupted by Granny Wen.

“We will take care of the new students. A-Ning will be back by then, and A-Yuan said he would be here for the seminars again this year. You don’t need to worry.” Granny Wen squeezed Wen Qing’s hand, then let go of her and sipped her tea.

Wen Qing took the flower from her hair. She had genuinely forgotten about it. Gliding her thumb across the delicate petals, Wen Qing considered Granny Wen’s suggestion. It would be the first year Wen Qing wasn’t there for all lectures on Wen medicine since they started the programme a few years back. She trusted everyone in the village to do fine without her there, she wasn’t so conceited as to think the village wouldn’t do well without her. While Wen Qing was usually asked to decide on important matters, their Sect was too small to need a Sect Leader.

It would just be strange to miss the seminars for the first time. Then again, this year didn’t seem to follow tradition well. Wen Qing focused back on the flower in her hands and was reminded of Jiang Yanli, smiling at Wen Qing in light purple robes, gently taking Wen Qing’s hands in hers in public and embracing Wen Qing closely in private. Their whispers barely more than puffs of air against skin and their laughter echoing off the walls in Lotus Pier.

Wen Qing didn’t think much longer. “Granny Wen,” she began, and the older lady looked at her. “I am going to visit the Yunmeng Jiang Sect next month, should Sect Leader Jiang allow. Thank you.”

“Nothing to thank me for. And I doubt Sect Leader Jiang could ever refuse you.” Granny Wen poured herself another cup of tea, but not Wen Qing. “You should send your love a message to let her know. I’m sure she will be thrilled.” Granny Wen motioned for Wen Qing to be on her way, and Wen Qing couldn’t find it in herself to resist. She bowed, face a dark shade of red, then she was on her way, but not without waving to Granny Wen.

Before Wen Qing sent her message off to Jiang Yanli, she quickly plucked one of the purple flowers from the bouquet on her bedside table, pressing it between her palms and treating it with small amounts of energy until she had completely dehydrated the flower. Wen Qing added the dried, flattened flower to her message, then sent it off.

Her day had ended a lot more optimistic than it had begun, though Wen Qing tried to remind herself not to get her hopes up too high as Jiang Yanli might already have arrangements for next month. Still, Wen Qing couldn’t stop a smile from spreading on her face when she was laying in bed waiting for sleep that night.

♡

Wen Qing’s days only became happier from then on as Wen Ning and A-Yuan arrived in the village the next day. They both stayed with her, filling the cabin with warmth and laughter and stories that Wen Qing hadn’t expected so soon. It was a nice surprise. A-Yuan spent a lot of his time in Gusu with his family there, so it had been a good few months since Wen Qing had last seen him. Wen Ning had left a little over two months ago to meet A-Yuan and travel with him before coming back to Dafan Mountain.

Wen Ning had seemed a little confused at the new colourful addition to the gardens but didn’t mention anything, while A-Yuan simply commented on the flowers’ beauty. Wen Qing had merely smiled in response, thinking of another beauty, and then fed Wen Ning and A-Yuan too many pastries before their actual dinner.

crossposted to AO3

#untamed spring fest #Rach schreibt #just some good ol wlw yearning #The Untamed #Wen Qing #Jiang Yanli #do they have a shipname?#im gonna try tow rite some more wlw content this month #bc. theres so little wlw content and. that has to be fixed #i legit havent written fic in almost a year tho btw so like. i apologize for this lmao #i also didnt expect this to get this long #i was expecting like. 1k at most? and here we are with 1.7k #which is quite long for me ngl i write rlly slow

13 notes · View notes

reddieao3feed · 4 years

Text

I Heard Sailors Do It Deeper

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/2LnJNTn

by Anon_nom_nom95

Richie was hundred percent sure his Captain hated him. No, scratch that...he was thousand percent sure of it.

He honestly can't say he blamed him though, because what came out of his mouth about the high ranking officer after a night of heavy drinking, completely justified any loathsome feelings Capt. Kaspbrak harbored towards him.

Or an AU where Richie is in the Navy and Eddie is the Captain of the boat he's on.

****Trigger Warning: This fics features homophobic slurs and mild violence please read at your own risk****

Words: 6282, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Fandoms: IT - Stephen King, IT (Movies - Muschietti)

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply

Categories: M/M

Characters: Eddie Kaspbrak, Richie Tozier, Bill Denbrough, Ben Hanscom, Stanley Uris, Mike Hanlon, Beverly Marsh, Maggie Tozier, Wentworth Tozier, Abigail Tozier, Original Tozier Character(s), Original Characters, Myra Kaspbrak

Relationships: Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier

Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Military, Military Backstory, Military Uniforms, Military Ranks, Military Homophobia, Military Background, Homophobic Language, Homophobia, Internalized Homophobia, Male Homosexuality, Period-Typical Homophobia, Bad Parents Maggie Tozier & Wentworth Tozier, Neglectful Maggie Tozier & Wentworth Tozier, Richie Tozier Has a Sister, Richie has a twin sister, Mentioned Maggie Tozier & Wentworth Tozier, Eddie Kaspbrak Cheats on Myra Kaspbrak, Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier-centric, Eddie is a Captain in the Navy, Navy, Alternate Universe - Navy, Alternate Universe - No Pennywise (IT), Oral Sex, Throat Fucking, Face-Fucking, Facials, Coming Untouched, Coming In Pants, Rough Oral Sex, Rough Kissing, Richie Tozier Has a Crush, Eddie Kaspbrak Has a Big Dick, Eddie Kaspbrak Has a Crush, Richie Tozier & Stanley Uris Are Best Friends, Gay Richie Tozier, Gay Eddie Kaspbrak, Bill Denbrough & Richie Tozier Are Best Friends, Ben Hanscom & Richie Tozier Are Best Friends, Eddie Kaspbrak is Bad at Feelings, I Will Go Down With This Ship, LITERALLY, Inspired by Music, Song: Dive (Victoria Monét), Submarines, Dom/sub Undertones, Dominant Eddie Kaspbrak, Submissive Richie Tozier, Adult Eddie Kaspbrak, Adult Losers Club (IT), Adult Richie Tozier, Adult Content, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Implied/Referenced Cheating, Adultery, Military Kink, Aged-Up Character(s), POV Richie Tozier, Oops, Oops and Hi, Most of these characters are outta character lol, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Sleep Deprivation, Captain Eddie Kaspbrak, Denial of Feelings, Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Two horny bros...bro..., Protective Richie Tozier, Don't Talk Shit About Capt. Kaspbrak..., Or Richie will cut off your balls, Deepthroating, Masturbation, Public Masturbation, Help, Sloppy toppy, Blow Jobs, The Author Regrets Nothing, Cute Ending, they care about each other, Made For Each Other, I'm Sorry, I'm Not Ashamed, Shameless Smut, Porn With Plot, Divorce, mentions of divorce, I love a good smut, Don't you?

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/2LnJNTn

#IFTTT #ao3feed #fanfic #reddie #it (2017)#richie tozier #eddie kaspbrak

6 notes · View notes

mezzomercury · 5 years

Text

Bohemian Rhapsody in Blue: Chapter Eight- Good Company

A/N: Here it is, after working on it on and off for almost for six(!!!) months. Apologies for the delay and I hope my readers are just as excited about reading this as I am about posting it. FYI, this is a picture that was in Eliza’s nursery.

Warnings: Mentions of food, vomit (that’s about it I think)

Word Count: 2.7k

*************************

January 22, 1986

The Garden Lodge

London, United Kingdom

Circa 3:00pm

It had only been two days since Freddie and Jim brought their daughter Eliza home to the Garden Lodge, but it was evident that they had more than their hands full with being new fathers. Although Nadia was staying with them for the next couple weeks, she could only do so much to help them, as her doctor put her on strict bed rest for the time being. Sleep deprived and with barely any time for themselves, Freddie and Jim still couldn’t be happier with this new chapter in their lives.

Now, it was time for little Eliza to meet her uncles. Brian, Roger, and Deaky had eagerly awaited this day for nine months, and were beyond ecstatic upon hearing the news that their friend and lead singer along with his husband had welcomed a beautiful and healthy baby girl. Since they were all parents themselves, Freddie had already been seeking their advice almost constantly. They would normally be bothered or annoyed by his incessant badgering, but they all remembered what it was like having their first baby and how the first couple of months were rather difficult and nerve-wracking to say the least. Brian, Roger, and Deaky had never expected Freddie to become a family man, but Jim brought about a change in him that they never thought was possible, and now the addition of a child settled him down even more. For once, they weren’t worried about their friend’s well-being, as he was now positively in love, and, as Freddie himself stated, “no fucker in the world is going to change that.”

The three visiting members of Queen piled into Roger’s car, along with a mountain of gifts for both Eliza and her mother. Freddie and Jim had planned a small get together for them at the Garden Lodge. Afternoon tea would be served, in addition to champagne and cigars wrapped in pink ribbons, all graciously prepared by Phoebe and Joe. It would be a rather small affair, but it had no probability of being dull, as long as the four members of Queen were together in an event hosted by their lead singer.

As Brian, Roger, and Deaky parked at the Garden Lodge and rang the bell at the front door, they were greeted by Phoebe, who assisted them in hauling gifts inside. Upon walking into the drawing room, the first thing they saw was Freddie, dressed in an old, yellow sleeveless jersey that was covered in spit-up, and white running pants that they had never seen him dawn before. In addition, he was carrying little Eliza in a sling strapped to his chest as he was bottle feeding and talking to her in a very cutesy voice, all while rocking her and pacing around slowly. Of course, his bandmates found it adorable, and even a gasp of awe couldn’t help but escape Deaky’s mouth, but it was strange to see Freddie already taking fatherhood so seriously.

“Hey, Mary Poppins! We finally made it!” Roger quipped in order to get the new father’s attention.

Freddie promptly halted his baby talk and turned his head to see his three bandmates standing right in front of him, which made a huge toothy smile spread across his face, though it was met with a hint of blush in his cheeks.

“Oh bugger, I was hoping you didn’t hear any of that. Did you?” he asked, waiting to hear the response he was fearing.

“We did, unfortunately.” Brian answered him, to which Freddie sighed, but had a feeling that he would be saved from any further embarrassment as he watched his husband Jim waltz into the room, greeting everyone with a hug.

“Welcome, lads! We’re glad you all could make it.” Jim addressed the three guests, “Did you all remember to wash your hands?” stating his concern of spreading any germs to his newborn daughter.

He earned three nods in response and he couldn’t help but sigh in relief.

“Say, where’s the woman of the hour?” Deaky asked, referring to Nadia, “She’s the one who we should be celebrating here. She did all the hard work while you two just watched.” This earned a playful scoff from Freddie.

“She’ll be here shortly. She’s resting in her room at the moment.” Jim responded, earning a nod of understanding from the bassist.

Once Phoebe brought in several teapots, cups, as well as an assortment of sandwiches and cakes, everyone sat down and tried to make themselves comfortable. Freddie, who was still holding Eliza in the sling, showed no signs of giving her up easily.

“Alright, Fred, let’s see our new niece. She was nearly born in my car, after all, so I should be the first to hold her, shouldn’t I?” Roger stated, eagerly awaiting to meet baby Eliza.

Much to his dismay, Freddie was extremely reluctant to pass the baby to anyone, so Jim had to silently coax his husband in to passing her to him, to which he then carefully deposited her into Roger’s awaiting arms. Everyone gasped in amazement as they finally got a glimpse of Eliza’s tiny face.

“Goodness, she’s absolutely beautiful. Well done, you two.” Brian remarked, silently adoring her tiny, delicate features.

“Yeah, you didn’t do too bad. She’s quite an adorable little potato, isn’t she?” Roger gushed as he adjusted his hold on the baby.

Seemingly discontent from being mildly jostled, Eliza began to fuss in Roger’s arms, to which her uncle cooed and shifted her so that her head was on his shoulder.

“There there, dear. It’s alright. It’s just your Uncle Rog. No need to fuss, dear.”

As he slowly pat the baby’s back he noticed her fussing subdued once he felt her hiccup, but he was unpleasantly surprised when this was followed by her vomiting on his shoulder. Everyone in the room couldn’t help but laugh at the situation, especially Freddie, who burst into a fit of laughter as he nearly collapsed into Jim’s lap from hysterics. When he collected himself a bit after a minute or so, he noticed Roger’s unamused expression and chortled,

“That’s my girl. Very good.”

As Roger noticed the vomit that was running down his back and destroying his shirt, he began to panic while simultaneously regretting that he chose to wear one of his favorite shirts for this occasion. Luckily, Deaky came to his rescue and suggested to him,

“How about you pass her along so you can go ahead and clean off? Your time’s up to hold her anyways.”

Roger obliged and quickly handed Eliza to Deaky, who took her into his arms like the professional father that he was. As the baby was still fussing a bit, she calmed down and fell asleep as soon as her godfather held her.

“That’s a bit better, dear. I don’t blame you for doing that to Roger.” Deaky whispered to her, causing everyone to chuckle.

“You’re quite the baby whisperer there, aren’t you, John?” Jim mused.

“He’d ought to be, darling. He’s had four of them.” Freddie retorted, “You’re not planning on having any more, are you, Deaks?”

Deaky shrugged as he rocked Eliza in his arms, to which everyone groaned jokingly.

“You and Veronica are breeding like rabbits at this rate.” Roger teased, “But I don’t blame you, honestly. You do make very cute little hobbit children.”

“I think the amount we have is fine for now, but who knows, this little one might change our minds, especially when the missus meets her.” Deaky remarked, gently cradling Eliza.

“I’m sure Freddie and Jim will let you borrow her whenever you want,” Brian responded, still unable to believe how the Deacons managed to raise that many children and make it look as simple as could be, “But in any case, I’d like to see my niece now, Deaky, if you don’t mind.” He tried to be as polite as possible without sounding too impatient.

Eliza, who wasn’t too thrilled to be passed around like a hot potato, began to fuss again, causing Deaky to smirk as he decided to let Brian deal with it.

“I know, you don’t like being tossed about like this, do you, dear?” Brian startled cradling the baby who seemed to be quite overwhelmed with everything going on, “Stick with me for a bit and it’ll all be fine.”

As tea was being served, Brian continued to hold Eliza and walk around the room with her, insisting that he wasn’t really hungry anyway. The others in the room engaged in mild, business-related conversation, all while Brian was softly singing ‘39 to his niece. Brian’s soothing voice seemed to have a positive effect on the infant, as she sighed contently while studying his face, trying as hard as she could to commit it to her memory. As he was singing the famous refrain of his song, all eyes were on him when he interrupted himself with an unexpected yelp as he felt a strong tug at a strand of his curly mane. Trying not to react too harshly, he looked down to see little Eliza holding onto his hair for dear life, making tiny cooing noises while doing so. The sight of it all would have made him soft, except her surprisingly strong grip prevented him from adoring it too much.

“She’s not going to let go anytime soon, I can tell you that.” Freddie interjected while he and the rest of the boys were laughing at the scene before them.

“It’s quite alright. I should be used to this by now, anyways.” Brian replied, trying to get Eliza’s grip off of his lock of hair, but to no avail.

Jim promptly rose from his chair to provide some assistance, gently coaxing his daughter’s chubby hand to free her uncle from her grasp by getting her to latch onto his own finger, then moving her hand to grip onto Brian’s shirt.

“That’s better now, love.” Jim whispered to the infant as he bent to her level to kiss her pudgy cheek.

Now with his hair free from her chubby but surprisingly strong grasp, Brian resumed walking around the room with Eliza, stopping at the pile of gifts and quietly showing and explaining her new toys. Overhearing this soft, one-sided conversation, Freddie turned around and asked the guitarist,

“Bri, you’re not trying to brainwash her with astrophysics yet, are you?”

“Not quite, Fred. You see, newborns just like to be stimulated both aurally and visually. It helps with their development.”

Freddie playfully rolled his eyes and let Brian continue “stimulating” his daughter, but before he could one-up his friend, Nadia quietly appeared into the drawing room and was immediately showered with attention and friendly affection from everyone occupying the space. As Freddie caught her out of the corner of his eye, he nearly dropped his cup of tea in a panic,

“Nadia, darling, what did the doctor tell you about standing up for too long? Please come sit at once!”

As he whisked away the poor woman and helped her sit on the sofa next to Jim, he was met with light chuckles and playful eye rolls from his friends. Before anyone could make a joke about Freddie’s new mother hen behavior, Deaky chimed in as he got up and presented his children’s former nanny with a bouquet of flowers accompanied by four handmade cards which were obviously done by the younger members of his family,

“Freddie and Jim told us about your new ‘updated’ agreement and we couldn’t be happier that you’re here to stay.”

“Thanks Deaky. I’m so glad to be here. It’s safe to say that I’ve grown attached to all of you.”

”You’re an incredibly strong woman for putting up with these two for the past nine months” Roger joked, referring to Freddie and Jim, “Are you sure you want to keep dealing with them? They’re quite the handful.” Freddie playfully smacked him, as was common for him to. Rubbing his head, the blonde drummer followed up.

”Actually, it’s better if you stay. I don’t want Freddie corrupting that poor girl too much. God knows what would happen without you.” Another smack, this time a little bit harder, or so the victim claimed.

”Rog, you’re almost asking to be puked on again at this point.” Freddie smirked, acting as if he had done nothing wrong.

Somehow, in the middle of all of the riveting conversation, baby Eliza, who had been carefully placed in her bassinet a few minutes ago by Brian, started to cry, almost as if she noticed everyone’s attention was on her mother and not her. Deaky, being the first to notice, made an effort to point it out as much as he could over the infant’s high-pitched near shrieking.

“Someone is quite the attention seeker already. I wonder who she could’ve gotten that from.”

Almost comically, everyone turned their gaze to Freddie, who merely scoffed and waved it off.

Nadia, who knew immediately the reason for her daughter’s fussiness, picked her up and walked into the other room to nurse her in private. Once she left, the living room became incredibly silent, before Roger tried his best at whisper,

“So, have you two shown her the house yet?”

This question was met with both Freddie and Jim violently shushing him, but Brian and Deaky were quick to inquire about this to their hosts. Jim made sure again that the coast was clear and that Nadia wasn’t in earshot before replying,

”Oh, did Freddie not tell all of you?”

The two clueless guests shook their heads, still utterly puzzled.

“We bought Nadia a house a few blocks away from here. We figured she’d want to live closer now that she’s a part of the family, and also as sort of a thank you gift. It was all Freddie’s idea really, as you could imagine.”

Everyone cooed in awe, but still trying to keep quiet so Nadia wouldn’t hear. Freddie was quick to answer Roger’s underlying question,

“No, we haven’t, but we’ll take her there once she’s fully recovered. I’m honestly quite surprised that she hasn’t figured it out yet.”

”Well, you know, she’s been pretty busy lately, you know, creating a new life and all.” Brian quipped as he took a generous sip of his tea.

“I wish I could see the look on her face when she sees it. Knowing you two she’ll probably love it.” Deaky muttered before quickly trying to signal everyone else that Nadia is heading back into the room.

Everyone became suspiciously quiet once again, but now they were met with Nadia raising her brow, trying to find the reason for it, all while burping Eliza over her shoulder.

“”What were you boys talking about? The room is never usually this quiet when you all are here.”

Freddie was quick to respond, even though he didn’t have a carefully thought out alibi.

“Oh, um...nothing darling. Just about………..how we’re going to try to finish the record now with the baby here and all.”

This caused Nadia’s curiosity to peak, but before she could say anything, Jim was quick to have her sit down again, taking Eliza from her and rocking her gently.

”Do you like your uncles, dear? They certainly are an odd bunch, but they love you all so much.”

Jim took a moment to reflect once he referred to all the men in the room as his daughter’s “uncles.” It went without mentioning that none of them were at all true blood relatives, but the bond as a nontraditional, chosen family was even stronger that he and his husband had with their actual family members. Little Eliza would grow up to have at least three surrogate uncles always by her side, and that was enough to provide relief to either of her parents. This wild and crazy group would prove to be the biggest support system she would have in the years to come, and for that Freddie and Jim were forever thankful.

As Jim was suddenly pulled away from his thoughts by his approaching him and kissing him gently on the cheek, then bending down to do the same for their daughter, the Irishman sighed in pure content.

After all these years, after all this time, I am finally where I was meant to be.

**************

Permanent Tag List: @found-wonderland, @r-ahh-mi, @yousaycoke-isaycaine, @sherlollydramoine, @rami-malek-trash, @britishmoonchild, @unknownauthor, @onexlittlespark, @rami-hoe, @xtrashmammalstefx, @wanderlustnightwanderer, @mrhoemazzello

#bohemian rhapsody in blue #freddie mercury imagine #freddie mercury x jim hutton #freddie mercury fic #freddie mercury #jim hutton #bohemian rhapsody imagine #queen imagine #queen fic #classic rock fandom #my stuff #micaela's fics #original content #roger taylor #brian may #john deacon #peter freestone

22 notes · View notes

starlightinhumanform · 5 years

Text

The Art of Love: Chapter 10

Fandom: She Ra (2018)

Ship: Glimadora

Summary: It’s chemistry again and Adora is missing, leaving Glimmer to wonder where she is. Glimmer has to face Weaver, Cat, and her feelings by herself.

Warnings (for this chapter): Some descriptions of mild emotional distress/anxiety, Mild language (please tell me if anything needs to be added)

Genre: High School AU, Angst with a Happy Ending, Rivals/Enemies to Lovers, Eventual Fluff

A/N: As always, all notes mean so much to me (especially reblogs). I always love getting feedback and questions so feel free to drop a comment, send an ask, or add something in the tags! Hope you enjoy my dears~ Love you all 🖤✨

Ao3 The Art of Love Masterpost Fic Masterpost Fic Request Info

Glimmer’s feet shuffled on the laminate tiles as she dragged herself to fourth period. She could tell by the quickly thinning crowd that the passing period was almost over. She couldn’t bring herself to move faster- or to actually care. She had fallen asleep in her last period and had been forced to scribble down the half an hour of notes she had missed in the last three minutes of class- and then a minute or two of passing after that.

Her mind was a fog and the only lamp that occasionally shone through the dense clouds was a grumble of frustration. Glimmer couldn’t decide if she should blame her sleep deprivation on Ms Weaver or if it was better to somehow twist the situation onto Adora. Her brain suggested the third option of it being her damn fault for being so distracted the whole night and spending so much time on being a drama queen instead of actually doing work.

Glimmer let out a huff as the bell screeched. She glared at the door down the hall, behind which Weaver was almost surely cackling out some Disney villain laugh as she marked Glimmer late.

A large part of her was highly tempted to turn around and spend the entire period lurking in a corner of the art studio. She had dropped off the model that morning (By some miracle, Weaver hadn’t been there) so Adora could still present it and get points for them.

She stopped walking and tapped her fingers against her thigh. It was only a ten foot walk to the class but, god, at what cost?

She was jarred into movement by a security guard speeding past her on a bicycle. He was shouting at the empty hallway- something about, “COME ON PEOPLE, KEEP MOVING,”- as if he were policing Times Square and not just Glimmer as she slouched her way past the empty row of monotonous doors.

Glimmer huffed and sludged forward, pausing to glare at the disappearing guard before wrenching the door open.

“Glimmer you’re-“

“Late, I know,” she grumbled the inevitable end of Weaver’s sentence.

Glimmer could feel Weaver’s raised eyebrow without even looking up.

“Keep doing this and you’ll get-“

“Detention. I know.”

The other students were watching the exchange like they were waiting for a bomb to go off- tick tock tick tock. Glimmer was sure that if it were just her and Weaver, the woman may have actually lost it and begun screaming at her.

She settled into her seat, resolved not to let Weaver bother her today. She was too tired to give a shit.

Weaver paused before conceding to simply shake her head and move towards the middle of the room.

Glimmer hazarded a glance upward only to see Weaver surveying the room with a wicked grin, hands pressed together like a praying mans’; as if she was showing off the wicked red claws of her nails. It made Glimmer sick.

“So class, I have a surprise for you,” Smug, purred, smooth with jagged edges; Weaver reminded Glimmer of obsidian as the woman soaked in the sounds of hopelessness coming from her students, “I’ll be checking your projects today to see what you have done!”

The class groaned in unison and the girl in front of Glimmer began whisper yelling at her partner across the room- as if that could do them any good now. Glimmer would have rolled her eyes if they didn’t feel so heavy.

“I know, it isn’t wonderful?!” Weaver’s shark-toothed grin widened as she acknowledged her doomed class.

Glimmer felt bad for the kids in the room who didn’t have a hyperactive, annoyingly insistent partner who had in on Weaver’s evil plans- so basically everyone else.

Now that Glimmer was thinking about it, she hadn’t seen said ball of energy when she had walked in. She turned and was surprised to see Adora’s seat glaringly empty. Glimmer fought back against the wave of disappointment that hit her. It’s not like this was a completely bad thing- it meant that Glimmer would actually be able to concentrate. And Weaver would be more likely to give Glimmer credit for her work instead of immediately assuming Adora had done all of it. So yeah, it was all good. Except... She said she’d see me at school...

Glimmer internally sighed at her own pathetic foolishness; she was getting way too soft.

She allowed herself another glance back, as if Adora would’ve suddenly appeared there in the three second break between her stares.

Another wave hit her, this time a cascade of apprehension. Adora was not the type to skip class and Glimmer’s mind was quick to fill the fog in her head with worries. What if something happened to her? What if she passed out? What if she passed out because I kept her up all night? What if she got hit by a car? What if I hit her my car?? Wait no... I don’t have a car. But what if she’s trying to avoid me?

Glimmer’s mind slapped its hand down on a proverbial bell- Yep! She’s try to avoid you!

Glimmer could feel the sensation of sickness growing in her stomach and rising to her chest. She wanted to bury her had in her hand as a stupid emotional groan began clawing its way up her vocal cords.

“Hey, Glimmer,” A snarky voice purred above her.

Glimmer growled as she looked up into Cat’s smirk, “What do you want?”

Cat gave an over the top pout, complete with big eyes and crinkled forehead, “Why, I just wanted to make sure you were ok.”

“I’m fine; leave me the hell alone,” Glimmer spat.

“All right, all right. You just looked a little,” Cat waggled her fingers, which only added to the insult of her airy, pretentious voice, “dazed-out there.”

Glimmer was suddenly aware of the movement around her- nearly everyone was already sat down with their partners or were at least taking a seat as she looked around.

“Also, I kinda need that seat,” Cat wrinkled her nose at Glimmer and pointed at the chair she was in.

Glimmer turned her head and to the side to see Cat’s partner Scylar beaming at her. Scy was a tall-ass wrestler with a loud punk style; if Glimmer’s brain was dazed enough to somehow skip over Scy throwing herself in the seat next to her (the girl never did anything without enthusiasm), then Glimmer had to be really out of it.

She stumbled out of her chair to move out of the way, “Oh right... I’ll just- move to the back then, I guess.”

Cat waggled her fingers in a wave as she slipped gracefully into Glimmer’s chair, “See ya later.”

Glimmer blinked at the girl for a second before realizing she had froze again. She took a step back, just trying to remember how to move. See ya later... see ya. See ya.

The words bounced around in her head like the little metal ball in a pinball machine- dink, dink, dink. Every time they hit the walls of her skull, I knew conspiracy dawned upon her. What if she knows that Adora was with me last night? Dink. What if she’s trying to get revenge? Dink. What if she told Adora not to come to class? Dink. What if Cat knows I, well that I, you know, abut, you know, Adora. The thought made a little ding! sound this time before ricocheting back even stronger.

“Uh, Glimmer?” The arch in Weaver’s eyebrow was sharp enough to cut a steak with.

She blinked again, bringing her eyes into focus. She had made her way to the back of the classroom but had failed to actually take a seat. Looking around, the seemingly the entire room had eyes on her. Her face burned and she lowered herself into the nearest seat. Adora’s seat.

Adora should have been there; Glimmer needed Adora to be there. Glimmer felt pathetic in every sense of the word. Only a few days ago, she had wanted to keep as much distance between her and Adora as possible. And now she was useless without her. It was strange and it was wrong and it shouldn’t have been happening but there she was, simmering within herself as the class moved forward without her. She needed the assurance that letting Adora in was the right thing to do, that she hadn’t scared Adora off. She needed the simple hope that Adora didn’t hate her. Why shouldn’t she? You hated her for months; you called her a lair and a fake. Why shouldn’t she hate you?

Glimmer resisted the urge to grumble at herself to shut up. Sometimes her brain really did deserve to be yelled at, though.

The class was moving again, sifting through the maze of chairs to grab their projects. Glimmer followed suit as best as she could to meld into the crowd this time after the embarrassing space-out that had happened only a couple minutes before.

Ok but consider this. Glimmer rolled her eyes internally as her mind began rambling again. What if she does hate you- so what? You thought that she hated you for a long-ass time; why does it matter so much if she actually does now? It honestly might be a good thing. It’ll help you get over that stupid crush.

She kept moving forward, trying to ignore the words floating around in her head but it was so much easier just to argue back. Was she just adding to the noise? Yes. Was it satisfying to tell the devil in her ear that it was an idiot? Oh definitely. Consider this- you’re the one that’s so obsessed with Adora and maybe if you stopped worrying about her for a second, I could find something else for you to yell at me about for no good reason.

It struck Glimmer just how much Adora had taken over her life; she had spent the whole day thinking and worrying about the girl. She was just a crush after all; it was ridiculous. Ok so Glimmer thought she was gorgeous and funny and smart and definitely the weirdest person she had ever met but in the best way possible? It was crazy to get this obsessed. Glimmer took a deep breath as she lifted her model off the counter, resolved to relax and go about this whole situation like a “normal” person. One problem. She had never crushed this hard on someone before. She had no idea how to act.

She settled back into her seat- Yes, it was her seat; Adora wasn’t here right now and that meant her seat rights were revoked. Glimmer snorted at her sleep-deprived mind as it continued to crack into smaller and increasingly hysterical pieces.

Glancing around, it was clear that the rest of the room was occupied. Weaver was stalking from partner to partner, leering over each of her victims with the sadistic joy that only a high school science teacher could possibly possess. The groups that weren’t being judged were either trying to throw together styrofoam balls or were praying. Glimmer was pretty sure that neither of those would help at that point.

Glimmer decided to take advantage of the surrounding chaos and grabbed her phone from the pocket of her backpack. She opened her conversation to Bow, ready to dump all her problems in her messages and hope she wasn’t blowing up his phone in middle of a test. Oh well, that’s a problem she could deal with later-

Hey hey hey. Ok so I’ve a problem

Well more like a question. But it’s questions about a problem

...hi? What’s going on lmao

You haven’t texted me since you sent me that weirdass text at like two in the morning

What were you even doing up then??

Oh good you are here ;)

What do you mean?? You were up too loser??

Oh my god just tell me what your ~problem~ is

Ok um sooooo

Yes?

SOOOOO

YES

WHAT

Glimmer moved a hand over her mouth to muffle the giggles that were escaping. Bow’s dramatics always made her laugh and she happened to be uncharacteristically bashful about this certain topic.

So I kinda have a big fat crush

The giggles disappeared very suddenly and Glimmer dug her teeth into her bottom lip as she watched the little blinking dots march in their message bubble, waiting for Bow’s response. Fortunately, he didn’t take long to reply. Unfortunately, Glimmer didn’t quite like his answer.

Is it Adora?

Dfydfgdgthkl how??

Look no one hates someone for no reason as much as you hated adora UNLESS you actually love them

Ok so Bow had a point and maybe he was right and she should have realized it earlier, but “love” was taking it several steps too far.

Also that text you sent last night was so lovestruck I could practically see the hearts in your eyes

I literally just said it turned out ok that you gave her my number?? Because YOU were freaking out??

Yes but you said it with love <3 <3 <3

I hate you

And it’s NOT love. I just like her

Sure...

Glimmer very nearly put her phone away with a huff before remembering that she accidentally had a reason for texting Bow to begin with.

Shut up, anyways do you know where Adora is?

Ooo you missing your girlfriend?

Glimmer’s face would burned red even if Bow hadn’t taken the low dig and called Adora her girlfriend. Because that was the dream, right? Because that’s exactly what she wanted but what she could never have. Because Bow didn’t know the ache in her chest, the pain he was causing. Because he was her best friend so he should know what was going on and how much everything had changed. Because she just wanted to tell him everything and ask him what the hell she should do, but there was something keeping her from telling him and maybe if she could just ask for help, she would know how to solve all her problems. And because yes, she missed Adora and the feeling was so much stronger than it should’ve been.

She glanced around herself, positive that someone had seen her face glowing as bright as a stop light. Everyone was preoccupied with their various crises, leaving Glimmer to her own in peace. Unfortunately Weaver was only two rows away and was drawing closer and closer to where Glimmer sat slumped. She would have to finish up her conversation quickly then.

I’m just wondering why she isn’t in class ok? Nothing more

If you don’t know then I’ll find someone else to ask

Jeez ok

Glim I’m sorry for teasing you

But no I don’t know where she is. Sorry :/

Yeah ok. Ttyl my dude

Glimmer let a puff of air escape slowly from her nose as she zipped her phone into its pocket. Her head felt like a bag of bricks tied to the end of her neck, her eyes just as heavy. She was slumped severely in the chair, so low that her shoulder blades were pressing into the middle of the seat and if she scooted forward a couple more inches, she’d probably slip off entirely; the idea of how much her mother would disapprove of her posture almost drew a laugh from Glimmer.

She debated whether or not it was worth it was worth it to fall asleep. Weaver would be standing over her, glaring with disgust in only two minutes or so, and she would therefore be risking whatever humiliation that would come with Weaver’s disgust. But, mmmm, two minutes of sleep? That might be worth it.

Glimmer was just shifting to plant her head on the desk when the classroom door exploded open. In the doorway stood a slightly sweaty Adora beaming, as always, as if she herself were the sun.

All eyes flickered over to her simultaneously, staring with confused and maybe amused expressions. Adora just grinned wider, apparently in response, “Hey everyone!”

Weaver stood up straight, freezing to look Adora up and down. She seemed confused as to what to do next. The girl continued to stand in the doorway for a moment, seemingly completely comfortable in the situation. The edges of her ponytail were frayed with baby hairs sticking up at odd angles that framed her reddened face. Her breathing was heavier than usual and the blades of glass plastered up her legs combined to give the impression that she had come directly from running.

Adora strode forward, “Sorry I was late! Soccer event with all the captains!”

So Cat did know where she was.

“Oh, I guess that’s ok then,” Weaver unfroze but still seemed somewhat unsure as she turned back to what she had been doing before Adora had burst in.

Adora made her way to the back, stopping only to give Cat a small wave, and sat down next to Glimmer. Her eyes were sparkling and the only signs of any sort of sleep deprivation were the dark circles that contrasted sharply with her pale skin tone. Her energy level was no reflection the amount of sleep Glimmer knew she hadn’t gotten

“Hi!”

“...hi?” Glimmer really wasn’t sure what she was supposed to say. That was usual. What was unusual was that Adora seemed to be expecting her to say something.

Adora was sitting next to her and just a minute ago, Glimmer would have sworn that’s exactly what she wanted but now she had doubts. Adora was just so loud. Her energy made white noise roar in Glimmer’s head and her voice thundered in the empty space between Glimmer’s thoughts. And her smile, god her smile, it was the brightest thing Glimmer had seen all day and it made her eye smart; it felt like a hand had gripped the bottom of her heart and was pulling it down, stretching out of shape and digging crescent nail marks into the flesh. That smile was all that she wanted and all that couldn’t live up to.

Adora cocked her head to the side and let the smile drop slightly, looking more like a puppy than ever, “Is something wrong?”

Glimmer shook her head and took the easy option, “Nah I’m just tired.”

“Oh ok,” Adora seemed to debate on something for a second before regaining her grin, “Me too honestly.”

It managed to draw a snort from Glimmer, “Really? I could not tell by the way you came bouncing in here.”

“I had like, way too much sugar. Anyways, what’s going on?” She turned her head from side to side to look around the room and causing her long ponytail to whip in either direction with the momentum.

Glimmer sat up from where she had ducked down to avoid Adora’s weaponized hair, “You were right. Weaver’s going around checking all our projects.”

Adora pumped her fist, moving her elbow towards her body and dramatically sweeping her head forward, eyes closed, as she did. It was undeniably dorky and it was undeniably cute.

“And our project is great,” Adora stared down at the pile of wire and clay that was beginning to look to Glimmer more and more like some strange “aesthetic” torture tool used by a Pinterest girl the 15th century. Of course, Adora was looking at it with the same starry-eyed expression that she always wore when looking at Glimmer’s art.

Glimmer shrugged, “It’s ok, I guess.”

Adora feigned offense, “Excuse me, I put my heart and soul into that clay.”

Glimmer couldn’t help but break down into giggles. She was so tired and Adora was so dumb and Glimmer couldn’t exactly explain why but every joke Adora cracked became the funniest thing she had ever heard.

Adora grinned back at her, “But really, you should give yourself more credit. It turned out great and I know that it’s not thanks to me.”

Ugh, of course she had to go and make it all “wholesome.” Glimmer debated if it was worth it to say something back. It would be so much easier just to brush it off; so much safer. She had already crossed too many lines last night, the only solution was to go back to normal today. But she couldn’t even remember what normal was.

Glimmer glanced down at her hands. She had been unconsciously worrying at her nails and now her cuticles were beginning to turn red. She looked back up at Adora, “Look though... I wouldn’t have been able to get it done without you and I’m actually really glad you insisted on coming over.”

Adora smiled with the brightness and warmth of the sun, “I am too.”

Glimmer was in the process of absolutely melting under Adora’s affections when Weaver stalked to a halt in front of them, effectively freezing her back together, “So, Adora how did it turn out?”

Glimmer turned to Adora, watching her eyebrows scrunch together as confusion slowly drew across her face, “Well Glimmer did most of the work...”

Glimmer was beginning to wonder if this ‘innocent curiosity’ was something Adora put on just for Weaver. She wasn’t stupid, she certainly didn’t actually like Weaver and she had to know that there was something going on between her and Glimmer.

“...so why don’t you talk to her about it?”

The end of Adora’s sentence snapped Glimmer sputtering out of her thoughts, “Wait what? No, sorry?”

Weaver pivoted on her heels to face Glimmer, “Well then, what do you have to say?”

Glimmer glanced at Adora with wide eyes trying to convey the message of What the hell? Why would you do this??

Adora gave an encouraging smile and nodded. Very helpful.

“Um well,” Glimmer dragged her eyes from Adora (who was still giving that somewhat infuriating smile) to Weaver, “It’s a model of bismuth. The particles or painted to look like a sample of bismuth. That’s about it.”

“Very well then,” Weaver sniffed and began leering over the mess of purples and grays.

Glimmer could have sworn Weaver hadn’t been that critically focused on other groups but, then again, she hadn’t really paid much attention to what Weaver had been doing until moments ago.

Weaver continued to glare over the project as Glimmer continued to hold her breath. After far too long, Weaver moved away with nothing more than a “humph.”

As the click click of Weaver’s heels moved to the other side of the room, Glimmer deflated into her normal slump, “I swear she hates me.”

Adora squinted in the direction of their teacher, “I still don’t see why she’s such a bitch to you.”

Glimmer’s eyebrows shot up without her consultation, “I was not expecting you to say anything that... strong.”

Adora shrugged without giving a response, still grimacing towards Weaver- whatever that meant. If it meant anything at all. Maybe it didn’t. Maybe Glimmer was just taking a simple stare to mean way too much. After all, Adora was sleep deprived and apparently coming down from a sugar high. It would make perfect sense for her to space out. So that settled it; Glimmer was reading into too much, that’s all-

“I swear one of these days she’s going to say something shitty to you, and I’m just going to lose it.”

Oh. Glimmer could feel her heart rate spike like it was trying to reach the sky. That sounded nice, that sounded like maybe- just maybe- Glimmer wasn’t reading into it too much. It sounded almost protective and normally that would make Glimmer gag, but somehow this wasn’t normal.

But of course her only reply was to let out a nervous wheeze, “Why on Earth would you do that??”

Adora shrugged again, “I don’t like the way she treats you.”

Glimmer didn’t like the strength in Adora’s eyes. It wasn’t the level of contempt that led to bloodshed, but it was certainly more emotion than Glimmer deserved or would ever ask for. It made her uncomfortable; she didn’t understand why Adora would be so angry about something which, in the long run, probably wouldn’t matter.

She gave another awkward giggle, “It really isn’t a big deal.”

Adora opened her mouth to respond and Glimmer was almost grateful when Weaver began speaking from in front of her desk. Something seemed to switch off in Adora, her expression relaxing as she turned to face the front of the room.

“I can’t say I’m surprised but a lot of you really need to get to work,” Weaver hissed out a tsk noise between her teeth, “You only have a few days left to get this project done. You have about fifteen minutes left in this period and I expect you all to be focused that entire time. All right get to work.”

The class dissolved into noise as chairs were scrapped across the floor and notebooks were grabbed with the fevered terror that can only be inspired by a looming due date.

Adora reached across the desk to open one of the class-set laptops. She brought up the presentation she had been working on yesterday, the same pastel rainbows and soft pink theme. It sparked a strange sort of déjà vu in Glimmer, the exact same situation as yesterday but with so much less hostility. The dissonance was enough to make her head spin, but she couldn’t help but enjoy the difference.

Adora turned her head, mirth poorly concealed in her smirk, “Can I help you?”

Glimmer blinked quickly, suddenly aware that she had spaced out staring at at Adora, “Oh, um, sorry, no. I was just- no I’m fine.”

“You sure?” Adora was very obviously struggling to keep her smirk from dissolving into a full smile. People talk a lot about feeling butterflies in their stomachs but to Glimmer it felt more like a hundred tiny grasshoppers jumping out of time with one another.

She swallowed but her mouth had gone dry and she wasn’t sure when that happened. She tried to piece together a sentence that a normal human would say, “Yeah, um, I’m good. But what about you? Ya know, do you need help with the project or, uh, something?”

Adora seemed to pause for a moment, once again having to switch to a different setting. She looked almost disappointed and Glimmer still didn’t have any idea what was going on.

Then Adora’s face did something else Glimmer was not at all expecting. Her expression lost all of the playful cockiness it had held only a second before, shifting into what Glimmer could only describe as timid- maybe even embarrassed, “Um, yeah, actually. Could you draw some more things for me to use in the presentation?”

Glimmer didn’t understand Adora’s apparent discomfort. She flipped open a sketch book and grabbed a pencil, “Sure; what do you need?”

“Just another a sketch of it unprocessed or something like that would be great!”

Glimmer was beginning to learn that Adora’s stupid sunshine smile was somehow even warmer when you knew you were the one that had caused it.

The next few minutes went by quickly. They sat mostly in silence, both content in their own work. Sometimes Glimmer would glance over, catching Adora staring at what she had been drawing. Every time she did, Adora would give her a tiny sheepish grin before ducking her head away. Every time she did, something unfamiliarly soft would fill her up from her toes to her cheeks that she could tell were turning pink.

When the bell rang, Glimmer argued that the main reason she didn’t want to move was because she was just too tired, but she could tell it was a flimsy excuse of a lie and she hardly even cared.

Adora stood up, looking down once she had grabbed her backpack, “See ya!”

Glimmer sighed as she watched Adora bounce away from her. See ya.

30 notes · View notes