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silverflame2724 · 3 years

Note

WWX decides to kill two birds with one stone and with the help of WQ reforges the Stygian Tiger Seal into a artificial golden core replacement which she implants into WWX.

WWXs eyes are now permanently red and he has the full power of the seal at his fingertips at all times because its part of him now.

Another side effect of this Stygian Core is discovered when WWX misses JZXs ambush and is instead attacked and disembowled in Carp Tower in full view of the cultivation world but then immediately regenerates without a scratch and blood ruined robes.

Watching WWX be more annoyed at the bloody robes than being disembowled because the Grandmaster of Demonic Cultivation has apparently cultivated to immortality USING RESENTMENT shakes a lot of people.

“Huh.” Wen Qing says as she observes yet another failure of Wei Wuxian’s inventions quite literally blow up in his face. “So this Seal of yours protects you?”

Wei Wuxian coughs from the smoke of his busted invention, “Well, yeah. What about it?”

“It’s sentient, correct?”

“Yeah....?”

“Hmm.” Wen Qing observed the Seal slowly bobbing up and down. “Can you circulate resentful energy through the Seal for a moment? Don’t make it do anything. Just channel resentful energy through it like you would if you channeled spiritual energy normally.”

“Okayyy??” Wei Wuxian was perplexed but nevertheless obeyed and watched as Wen Qing’s eyes brightened. “What? What is it? Wen Qing, tell meeeeee! Don’t leave me out!!!!!”

“Brat, I’m trying to concentrate.” She scolded him, but her tone was fond.

Wei Wuxian waited a few more moments before it seemed like Wen Qing had seen enough.

“I want you to calm down when I say this, but I think you can reforge the Seal into a core which I can transfer into you.”

Wei Wuxian was silent......for about two seconds. “............What?”

Wen Qing sighed. “Wei Wuxian, when you channeled resentful energy through the Seal, the Seal acted much like how it would if someone were to channel spiritual energy through their core. The Seal can be made into an artificial core is what I’m saying.”

“I.....you are sure?” Wei Wuxian asked. He knew Wen Qing wouldn’t joke about this.

“Yes. I’m about eighty percent sure this will go well. I can even knock you out when I cut you open this time.”

“I.....okay.” Wei Wuxian was at a loss for words.

“So I’ve rendered you speechless.” Wen Qing smiled. “That kinda feels good.”

Wei Wuxian pouted.

...........

It took a few days to reform the Seal into a form that would resemble a core but Wei Wuxian was a genius and having Wen Qing there to bounce ideas off of helped in giving him a clue as to how a core should look and feel like.

“Are you ready?” Wen Qing asked.

Wei Wuxian, who was one hundred percent not ready, said, “Yes.”

Wen Qing saw through this. “It will be alright.” She squeezed his hand. “This time, it will be alright.”

That was the last thing he heard before he was knocked out.

When he awoke, his eyes had burned for a little before the pain dissipated.

Wen Qing had been in the midst of declaring the operation successful when she suddenly paused, “Huh.”

“What is it?” He asked nervously. Did something go wrong?

“Oh.....it’s, hmm. A’ Ning, get me some water, will you?”

Wen Ning returned not long later and locked eyes with Wei Wuxian. He seemed quite startled and that made Wei Wuxian even more curious. Based on Wen Qing’s reaction, it wasn’t anything bad, but still.....

“Wei Wuxian.”

“Yes?”

“Look at your reflection and you’ll understand why A’ Ning and I looked startled.”

Wei Wuxian did.

And he was shocked to see that his eyes have now become a brilliant shade of red. “What the hell?”

“Mmhm.”

“Why are my eyes red???”

“Well, Wei Wuxian, I’m not sure if anyone’s told you, but you’re aware your eyes turn red everytime you use demonic cultivation, right?”

“Umm, no??”

“Well, they do. And considering what your core is, well. I’m not entirely surprised this happened. It was certainly unexpected though.” She finished cleaning up and left Wei Wuxian to just sit and admire his reflection.

...................

A week and some carefully supervised experiments later, Wei Wuxian had full control over his core. It was really just the same thing as how one would normally use a golden core, so it didn’t take long for him to get the hang of it. However, considering his core is the Seal, he also had the ability to control thousands of corpses and this time without any of the side effects.

He also spent time trying to get Suibian to respond to him using resentful energy. Considering that the sword was a spiritual sword, he was unsure of the compatibility but Suibian seemed to adapt well enough and Wei Wuxian was so glad he didn’t have to give up ever using his beloved sword again.

The next step on his agenda was to update the wards. Using the power of the Seal to strengthen it was a walk in the park and Wei Wuxian finally felt like despite how the cultivation world was always on the verge of killing him and the Wens, they’d be safe. The wards would hold out.

He then started absorbing all the deep-seated resentment in the soil to make it more fertile as well as trying to clear the Burial Mounds resentment by listening to the stories of the dead and helping them pass on. He also painstakingly dug up all the strewn about corpses, burned them and held proper funeral rites for them.

The crops flourished, the Wens and him were well-fed, and the Burial Mounds started to lighten up. Wei Wuxian no longer looked to be on the verge of death and he was able to cultivate without any problem.

Like this, time passed peacefully.

..........................

He was invited to his nephew’s one month celebration not long later and Wei Wuxian decided that this would be a good time to show the cultivation world that he truly is the grandmaster of demonic cultivation they all claim him to be. (In truth, he never considered himself to be any sort of grandmaster considering how little he knew of demonic cultivation, but it was different now.)

He told Wen Ning and the other corpses - of the resentful spirits that stayed behind saying they wanted to help him - to watch for any Jins since he trusted they’d take this chance to attack the Burial Mounds.

After he put on a concealing talisman for his eyes - since he knew that his different eye color would make a huge uproar -, he took to the skies with Suibian and nearly teared up. He’d missed flying. He’d missed this feeling. Laughing happily, he circulated the resentful energy in his core and sped up, becoming a black blur as he flew straight over Qiongqi Path.

When he landed at the foot of Koi Tower, invitation in hand, the Jin guards seemed surprised to see him there but had to let him in, not wanting to offend him.

Jiang Yanli-- no, it was Jin Yanli saw him and waved excitedly, beckoning him over. Out of his sight, Jin Guangyao and Jin Guangshan seemed surprised to see him there.

“A’ Xian!”

“Shijie!” The form of address slipped out.

Her face softened. “You made it!”

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world!”

The whispers of the people around him, wondering why he was there, surrounded him, but he ignored it. “Shijie, here’s my present!”

She looked at the bell with a little bit of wonder. “What does it do?”

“It’ll ensure that high level resentful beings and below won’t be able to move!”

“Oh, A’ Xian! This is perfect.”

“Thank you.” Jin Zixuan said, awkwardly. Wei Wuxian had forgotten he was there.

“No need! If it’s for Shijie’s son, I’d do anything!”

“He’s my son, too.”

Wei Wuxian made a face at that. “Well, yeah.”

“Wei Wuxian!” Jiang Cheng called and then stopped. “You have your sword?”

Wei Wuxian shrugged, “Yep!” He twirled around. “I started picking Suibian up again! But let’s not focus on that, Jiang Cheng!”

Jiang Cheng seemed hesitant but dropped it readily enough as they started bickering like they used to.

Suddenly--

“Wei Wuxian!” Someone yelled.

Wei Wuxian groaned. Can one day go on without someone yelling my name with hatred??? Like, please??

“Yeeeeeees?” He drawled tiredly.

And some Jin guy that vaguely looked like Jin Zixuan stomped in, looking murderous. “You, remove the curse that you put on me!!”

Murmurs started up all around them.

“Curse?” Wei Wuxian looked confused. “What curse? And who are you anyway? Am I supposed to know you from somewhere??”

“You know who I am!!”

“No, I don’t actually.” Wei Wuxian scratched his head as he walked forward to get a better look. He really didn’t know!

“That’s Jin Zixun.” His shijie said, coming up to him. “From the Phoenix Mountain hunt?” Before Wei Wuxian could say anything, she continued. “The one that was supposed to apologize to you.”

“Hmm?” Wei Wuxian thought really hard. “Oh! I remember you now!” He said to a rather red-faced Jin Zixun. “Sorry about that buddy, but uhh I didn’t curse you! I didn’t even remember you until now!”

“It must be you! It has to be you!!” He screamed and it was really grating on his nerves. “See! Look at this!” He ripped his robes open and everyone gasped at the evidence of the Hundred Holes curse on his torso.

Wei Wuxian whistled. “Well, that’s quite some curse. But I still didn’t do it.” Jin Zixun looked ready to refute so he continued, “Why would I curse you secretly when I usually make a big production of those I kill?”

People had to admit he had a point.

Jin Zixun continued to scream expletives until he finally rushed forward and in a rather bold move, drew his sword, plunging forward. However, in his anger, he completely missed his target and the direction of the blade pointed towards Jin Yanli.

“A’ Jie!!” Jiang Cheng screamed

Wei Wuxian was the closest to her and pushed her back, stepping in front of her taking the sword to his gut.

“A’ XIAN!!!” “WEI WUXIAN!!” “WEI YING!!” Jin Yanli, Jiang Cheng, and Lan Wangji, who was actually there, all screamed.

And Wei Wuxian who had just been disemboweled, grit his teeth and pulled out the sword. Which, in hindsight, was a horrible decision since blood got everywhere. Though not so much when his stomach stitched itself back together. “................Huh.” I knew I regenerated quickly considering how often I got hurt plowing the fields and digging up the corpses to put them to rest, but damn that was quick. Though..... “My robes!” He fake-cried, turning his attention to a stunned Jin Zixun. “You ruined my robes! I just managed to scrounge up enough money to buy this new pair and you ruined them!!!!” He fretted over the large rip over his abdomen. “What am I going to tell Wen Qing? She just told me not to stain them!”

The entire cultivation just stared at him in silent shock, making Wei Wuxian feel a little self-conscious.

“Uhh, what are all of you staring at me for?”

“Wei Wuxian,” Jiang Cheng said with all the patience of an exasperated brother. “Is that the only thing you can ask?!” He glared, signaling for two Jiang disciples to restrain Jin Zixun from anymore stupid ideas he’d like to enact. “When did you cultivate to immortality?”

“I didn’t??? What do you mean??”

“Wei Ying.” Lan Zhan said, checking him over. “Are you alright?”

“Hmm? I’m a little dizzy considering all the blood I’ve lost, but it’s nothing big!” He grinned. It felt nice to have Lan Zhan care for him rather than fight with him.

“Wei Wuxian, stop flirting with Hanguang-Jun and answer the damn question.”

Wei Wuxian turned his attention back to his brother and pouted at him, missing Lan Wangji’s red ears. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“A’ Xian.” Shijie said and Wei Wuxian abruptly realized her robes had his blood on them.

“Shijie, I’m sorry I got your robes dirty!”

“It’s fine.” She patted him. “But A’ Xian, I know you didn’t pay attention to those lectures, but only immortals can heal from wounds like that that quickly.”

“Really?”

“Mn.” Lan Zhan confirmed.

“Huh. So I’m immortal?”

“Yes.” Jiang Cheng deadpanned. “And you didn’t even notice it. In true Wei Wuxian fashion.”

Lan Zhan frowned then. He had still been checking Wei Wuxian’s pulse. “Wei Ying, what happened to your core?”

“Hmm? .........Oh shit.”

“Why is it covered in resentment?”

“Oh. Umm.” Wei Wuxian really was at a loss for words now. “We can discuss that later?”

“Wei Ying.”

“Aiya, how do you make my name sound like reprimand?”

“Don’t try to deflect the conversation.” Jiang Cheng said, now paying attention.

Wei Wuxian groaned. “Okay. Well, everyone would have found out sooner or later but umm. I might have cultivated to immortality accidentally via demonic cultivation? Haha, ha......”

No one laughed with him. They all looked pretty shaken and Wei Wuxian wanted to laugh at their reaction. He felt pretty detached from it all, to be honest.

“Can we all just forget about this and continue celebrating Jin Ling’s one month celebration?”

And everyone collectively said, “No.”

“Aww.”

___________________

To this day, I’m still unsure of whether it’s Carp Tower or Koi Tower.

#mdzs #wei ying #wei wuxian #wen qing #immortal wei wuxian #fluff #wei wuxian has a new core #but it's not a golden core #wen remnants #jiang cheng #jiang wanyin #jiang yanli #jin zixuan #jin zixun #humor #lan zhan #lan wangji #mild warning for blood

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maximons · 3 years

Text

Perfect

Summary: Wanda Maximoff and Y/n L/n, two kindred spirits that find themselves drawn to each other. And because of this, they knew their first date wouldn’t be anything less than perfect.

Word Count: 2,462

Genre: College AU, Fluff

Requested?: Yes

A/N: Hope ya’ll like your teeth rotting, cause that’s all this is :)

You first saw Wanda Maximoff in early October.

In hindsight, you couldn’t believe you didn’t notice her sooner. It was in your psychology class on a Friday afternoon. The class was required for your major, and it was also your last class of the day and the last one of the week, so you weren’t the most excited to be there. You leaned back in your chair, pen twirling in your hand, listening to the professor drone on about...something. You weren’t really paying attention.

You assumed she asked a question, because a few stray hands shot up in the air. One was selected, and a voice started speaking.

And, oh wow...you were paying attention now.

The beautiful voice was deeper, raspy. It held your attention, pulling you in even if you didn’t want to be, which you very much did. What intrigued you the most was the slight accent that was laced within it. You couldn’t pinpoint where it was from exactly, but you would guess European. Eastern European maybe.

Hypnotizing.

“Thank you, Miss Maximoff, that was actually very insightful.” You snapped back into reality at the sound of your professors voice. You leaned back into your seat, eyes drifting over to the owner of the voice.

You couldn’t see her face, as you were seated in the back of the lecture hall and she was closer to the front, but your gaze was met with a beautiful head of flowing red hair. You could tell that it wasn’t natural, most likely dyed, but it didn’t make it any less gorgeous. Right then and there, you made it a goal to get closer to this girl. You brought the tip of your pen to your lips, biting on it slightly. A smile grew on your face, still staring at the back of her head.

“Well, hello Miss Maximoff.”

The opportunity to talk to her arose the next week. You walked into class, few minutes earlier than you usually did, eyes scanning the room. You were happy to see the head of red hair that plagued your mind for the last few days already in her seat. This time though, you got to see her face. Your jaw dropped slightly.

She’s beautiful.

You snapped yourself out of it, not wanting to risk getting caught staring. You casually made your way through the room and up a few steps. However, instead of going to your usual seat in the back of the hall, you plopped yourself down into the seat next to hers.

You slid your bag off your shoulder, shoving it under the table in front of you, staring forward. You noticed the redhead turn her gaze towards you, wondering why you were sitting there you were sure. After a few moments, her gaze still lingered on you, so you took a chance and turned you head. You gave her a small smile.

“Hey.” You said quietly, as casual as you could. You didn’t want her to think you were some kind of stalker, sitting next to her just to get close to her.

Well, yeah that’s what you were doing, but you didn’t want her to get the wrong idea.

She simply responded with the same smile and greeting before turning her attention back towards the front of the room. Just then, your professor walked in and the lecture started.

After about a half hour of half listening, your ears perked up at the next thing out of her mouth. “Alright, get into pairs and discuss.”

Yes! This was your chance. Normally you hated group work, especially in this class since none of your friends shared it with you, but today you were excited.

You turned your head towards the redhead only to find her looking at you. You gave her a nervous chuckle. “You wanna...” You trailed off, but she caught on to what you were saying on saying and nodded. You smiled. “I don’t think we’ve met before, I’m Y/n.” You straightened yourself up, holding out your hand for her to take.

She chuckled as she took it. “I know. Dr. Logan keeps scolding you for not paying attention.” She teased, accent present as ever. You laughed nervously.

“That’s me.” She laughed a little more at that, and man you loved the sound.

“I’m Wanda.”

You smiled. Wanda Maximoff. What a name.

You started discussing the topic at hand, conversation flowing pretty easily between you two. You quickly caught on to how her accent would thicken when saying certain words. You hung onto every word that flowed out of her mouth. She was also incredibly smart and insightful, but not in a condescending or pretentious way. She was perfect.

You were a goner.

The next few weeks you would continue sitting next to her, and finding reasons to talk to her. You became each others go to partners for class activities. You even formed a friendship outside of class, slowly making your way from acquaintances to friends. You introduced her to your friend group, and she did to hers. You hung out everyday, even began to crash at each others places, it was amazing.

The end of the semester quickly approached, and you were packing your bags to go home for winter break. You and Wanda swore to keep in contact and talk as much as you could. Before you officially left campus though, you had to do something in person. You made your way to Wanda’s dorm and knocked. She answered, and before she could get a word out, you asked the question that’s been on the tip of your tongue for months.

“Do you want to go out with me?”

You knew it was a last minute request, but you didn’t want to do it over the phone. And when you got to see her smile grow as she nodded excitingly, you knew it was the right choice.

You never got around to setting a day because her twin brother, Pietro, was essentially rushing her out of the building, ready to go home. She called over her shoulder that she would call you. And she did as soon she could.

You both decided that you would wait until spring semester and go to the nice restaurant that was in town, it was a popular date sight for those in your school. It sounded like a plan.

But two weeks later, you decided you had a better one.

Wanda was a free spirit, and you were pretty unconventional yourself. Dinner dates were more for couples that didn’t know each other well and wanted to have their first meeting in a public setting. That wasn’t you two. You were great friends already, and you didn’t want to be stuck in the confines of the etiquette of the restaurant. You wanted to be 100% yourself, and you wanted her to be as well.

Wanda was very confused when you asked her where she lived and if she was free tomorrow night. She knew you were up to something, but she didn’t know what. When she asked, you simply said “Trust me.” And she did.

Wanda only lived an hour and a half from you. Perfect. Easy drive.

The next night, you grabbed the keys to the pickup truck that you shared with your dad. You packed what you think you two would need, and then you took off.

An hour and a half later, you arrived at Wanda’s place. Whoa. She practically lived in a mansion. Someone neglected to tell you that she was loaded. You laughed to yourself, thinking of the ways you could tease her about it later. You parked your truck a little ways down the street, so it wasn’t immediately noticeable to the residents inside. You got out and made your way over to the back of the truck. You leaned against it, and pulled out your phone.

“Hey, Y/n!” Wanda answered excitingly, and you couldn’t help but smile.

“Hello there, Miss. Maximoff. What are you up to this fine evening?” You said in a terribly butchered British accent, but Wanda found it amusing and laughed.

“Nothing much, I just got out of the shower.”

“Ah, perfect. Say, instead of getting ready for bed...you might wanna put something warm on.”

Wanda furrowed her brow in confusion, but smiled at your antics. You were up to something. “What did you do?”

“Me? Oh nothing, why would you think that?” You said in mock hurt, and she laughed again. “But I wouldn’t mind it if you made your way outside...” You trailed off, and before Wanda could ask why. You hung up.

A few minutes later, Wanda walked outside. She was dressed casually, jeans and a red sweater. She had her white coat pulled tightly around her, and she tugged on her black scarf as she walked down the walkway.

Absolutely beautiful.

Confusion was plastered on her face, she looked around for a moment, not understanding why she wanted you to go outside. She pulled out her phone, ready to call you again, when she heard a loud honk. She made her way down the street towards the sound, and she gasped slightly when she saw you.

“Oh my god!” She exclaimed and started running towards you. She jumped up into your arms, legs wrapping around you in a tight hug. Both of you sported wide smiles as you laughed. After a few moments, Wanda hopped off of you, smile still wide as she looked at you. “What are you doing here!?”

“Well, I know we talked about how we’d go down to the restaurant, which we can still do if you want to, but I figured...it wouldn’t be us if we didn’t go for a little adventure for our first date.”

Wanda smiled. She was also thinking something similar, but she wanted this to work with you, so she thought she’d play it safe for the first date. She should’ve known better though, because you were you. You didn’t care for societal norms, you played everything by ear, and you faced life head on and in the moment. You were perfect to her. “And where would we be going, Miss L/n?”

“Well, that’s the best part.” You started as you opened the passenger door for Wanda. “I have no idea. We’ll let the road guide us.” You made a gesture to the road, causing the redhead to laugh.

“Alright, Y/n. Show me the way.” You smiled as you helped her in the truck. You closed the door, and made your way over to the drivers seat, taking off a moment later.

About two hours later, you were still on the road. You didn’t know exactly where you were, and you didn’t care. All you cared about was the beautiful girl beside you. You’ve been engaged in various conversations throughout the night, some playful, some serious, but all of them were amazing. You could talk to this woman for the rest of your life and you would never get bored.

You were making your way through a tunnel, and since it was nearing 1am by this point, it was only you. Wanda shot you a mischievous look ad she hit the button to the truck’s sunroof. You chuckled. “Whatcha doing there?”

“You ever wonder what it would feel like to fly?”

“Who hasn’t?”

“Well this...” Wanda clicked her seatbelt off and carefully stood on the seat. “Is the closest you can get to it.” She stood up, sticking the upper half of her body out of the roof.

You panicked for a moment. You were driving pretty fast, and were sure this was unsafe. You didn’t want anything to happen to her. You were about to say something, but then Wanda let out a boisterous laugh. “This is amazing!” She let out a scream of excitement. “Y/n, turn the music up!”

You couldn’t help but smile. This woman was truly amazing. You couldn’t bring yourself to worry about the safety measures when she was enjoying herself like this. You obliged and turned the radio up, and Wanda began singing along to the words and, oh wow...

If you thought her speaking voice was captivating...her singing voice was just something else entirely. You were smiling as wide as you possibly could, enjoying this moment.

It was perfect.

Soon enough though, the end of the tunnel was approaching. There was a metal bar that hung low, so you decided now was the time to pull her back. You tugged on her pant leg. “Okay, Supergirl, get back in here before your head gets torn off.” You laughed, and Wanda soon dropped back in her seat, laughing with you.

You wanted to get a good look at the girl sitting next to you, have a conversation where you could pay attention to her entirely and not having to split your focus. “You up for one more stop?” You asked. Wanda nodded excitingly.

“Of course.”

You drove for about five more minutes when you spotted a small vacant park. You pulled over to the side of the road and park, and got out. You opened the door open for Wanda again, and helped her get out. You then made your way to the backseat and pulled out the blankets you decided to bring, before walking with Wanda to the center of the park.

You laid down one of the blankets on the grass, and when you both laid down on it, you pulled the other one on top of you.

You spent the next half hour or so in deep conversation, staring at the stars. You didn’t want this night to end, but when you saw Wanda let out a yawn, you figured it would have to soon.

“Alright, we should start heading back. We gotta get you to bed, Miss Bezos.” Wanda smacked your arm at you poking fun at her financial status. “Actually, I’m sure you have a private jet that can pick us up. where’s Alfred at?” You both laughed harder as Wanda hit you again. You two began wrestling, play fighting with each other, when eventually you let Wanda win. She rolled on top of you, pinning you down.

You continued laughing for a few more moments, before it died down. You were both then very aware of your position and blushed. You looked into each others eyes for a moment, and then Wanda began speaking.

“Tonight was just...so perfect. Thank you, Y/n.” She said softly, and you smiled.

“Of course.”

You stayed there, staring into each others eyes for another moment, before Wanda started leaning down. You picked your head up, meeting her in the middle, and your lips locked in a soft kiss. You both smiled as you deepened the kiss.

This was for sure the perfect end to a perfect evening.

#wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff imagine #wanda maximoff x you

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lunaastoir · 3 years

Note

Heyhey! May I request a childe x reader where the reader simps for him but he doesn’t know? Like what if she was online best friends with the tsaritsa but the reader doesn’t know the tsaritsa is the tsaritsa so she constantly simps for childe to her. Like “OMG HE’S SO CUTE.” AND STUFF LIKE THAT. So since she’s like besties with the tsaritsa the cry archon decides to set her up? Thank you :>>>>

AAAAA NONNIE holds your hands gently this is so cute i love it :,)

genshin doesn’t have internet/technology but for the sake of this ask shhhhhh we’re gonna pretend they do

i hope i interpreted your ask correctly, if i didn’t just lmk <3

crack, fluFF- LOTS OF IT???

the tsaritsa’s meddling

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all you wanted were groceries. that was all you wanted. you were standing in line behind the stall as you counted the items you needed to get. salt, milk, sugar, fowl, what else? you were lost in thought as you prayed that you had enough mora to buy everything - god knows how hard eating is as an adventurer. which was why, when you dropped your precious mora, your mind immediately went into panic mode. not now, not now, please don’t let the line move, you begged internally. in hindsight maybe if your mora hadn’t dropped, maybe if you weren’t at your wits end as a broke adventurer, maybe if you had just bought those damn ingredients sooner, you wouldn’t be in this position. as you breathed a sigh of relief after collecting your money and returned your gaze back to the stall, the only thing you could do was stare. where...did everyone go? instead of simply turning around and fleeing which should’ve been your first instinct considering how deserted the place was, you stood there trying to process the information. that was, until you saw a head of auburn hair peak up out of the stall. startled, you almost dropped your mora again. as the tuft of hair gave way to a very tall, handsome, blue eyed man, your brain short circuited.

oh god how you wished you had run when you had the chance. you imagined you must have looked quite comical; mouth hanging slightly open, the list of ingredients fisted in your hands while mora was hanging precariously from your fingers. after what seemed like an eternity, the man seemed to finally notice you.

“oh hey, you must not have noticed but this stall is sold out for the fatui”

the sentence accompanied with his signature smile practically brought you to your knees. that smile? aimed at you? you would be surprised if you weren’t drooling.

determined to not look like an absolute idiot you flashed him a smile of your own before saying, “sorry my bad, i must not have been paying attention” while doing what little you can to get some semblance of balance. tuck the mora here, try to balance your list more gracefully, move that piece of hair from your face.

his eyes surveyed your undoubtedly disheveled appearance, before making a quick decision.

“what items do you want, i’m sure i can spare a few ingredients for someone as pretty as you”

one blink. another blink. did he just call you pretty? oh my-

“oh no, it’s really ok, i can just get these later - it’s not that important anyway” you lied through your teeth. you needed those ingredients or you were most likely going to starve on the road but he didn’t need to know that.

“don’t worry about it, as a harbinger i’m sure my subordinates can overlook a few missing ingredients” he smoothly said before gesturing you towards him.

“i’m childe by the way, if you didn’t know” his eyes flicked up to meet yours.

“y/n” you offered while handing him the list.

as he looked over what you needed, you tried your best to keep your breathing steady while your mind raced. if you didn’t know? of course you knew who he was, who didn’t? you would know better than most considering how often you thirsted about him to your mutual. if anything, you should’ve been the one saying that line to him. as an adventurer, you tend to not spend much time in liyue harbor, chasing down ruin guards and running errands was how you would rather keep yourself busy. however, ever since you saw childe in liyue, sharing a pot of tea with zhongli of all people, you started swinging by the harbor more often. fascination was what kept you seeking him out wherever you went. you had heard about the infamous eleventh harbinger, supposedly the youngest of them, all while being quite easy on the eyes. you had brushed off all the talk you had heard to just that - talk. international affairs wasn’t something you cared for and if anything, seeing the fatui made you wary. however, your curiosity grew after seeing him whenever you were in town. you chalked up your eyes subconsciously seeking out his figure to the fact that he was just an interesting guy. nothing wrong with wondering about a peculiar fellow, right? you went through excuses upon excuses until finally, you had concluded that perhaps, maybe, you had a little crush on him. tiny, you assured yourself. just a tiny crush on a very attractive man.

that crush then trickled over to your time spent talking to your mutual. it started off with little hints of “oh there’s this guy i saw and i thought he was kinda cute” to full blown hysteria of “PLS SEND HELP HE LOOKED SO GOOD TODAY.” @cryogoddess definitely had a lot of patience putting up with your thirsts over a man she didn’t even have the name of. you felt horrible sometimes since more than half of your conversation was about the newest detail you had noticed about childe - however your protests on boring her were met with reassurances about how no, you weren’t boring her, and yes, this is the most lighthearted talk she’s had her entire day so please keep going. you weren’t exactly sure what this woman did, or even how old she was. all you knew was she was someone who was constantly stressed (maybe a fellow adventurer?) and she was quite honest (which you happened to appreciate). despite how busy she was, she seemed to always make time for your texts which made you feel like you could trust her with anything.

“is that all? do you need anything else?” childe’s voice interrupted your mental tirade as you owlishly looked at him.

“oh! yes that’s fine thank you” you smiled before taking the bag from him. grabbing the mora, you rushed to hand out the correct amount before he stopped you.

“don’t worry about it, it’s on the house” he laughed slightly before waving your mora away.

it’s on the- excuse me? did he just give you all this for free? is this what fatui hospitality is like?

rushing to close your mouth, you quickly recovered while slurring out a quick “thank you so much” before shouldering your bag. your brain was currently running on fumes and you were very sure that if you stayed there any longer you might just combust.

“well, i’ll be off then, thank you again” you shot him another smile before quickly scurrying away.

without turning back to look at his expression, you moved as fast as humanly possible while trying not to seem like you were about to jump out of your skin. you didn’t know what was more embarrassing, your thumping heart or the dopey smile on your face. there was no way you were ever going to get over this, not with the way he looked at you the entire time. sighing, you put your bag down near a bench and pulled out your phone. at least you had an update for your friend that consisted of something other than just mindless thirsts.

your mind was still reeling over from what happened as you texted her with shaking hands. the reply was immediate: “wow, you finally got up the courage to talk to him huh.” you rolled your eyes playfully at her blunt message. “bY ACCIDENT- IT HAPPENED BY ACCIDENT,,, guess he couldn’t keep himself away from this sexiness 😩” another blunt reply: “right.” smiling softly, you responded: “thanks for hyping me up bestie i really appreciate it <3 ok but maybe childe and i belong together??? is this a sign from the archons???” you stared waiting for her reply, however you were met with a read 8:45 pm. you’re lucky i love you bestie, leaving me on read during my crisis you whispered to yourself as you shouldered your bag once again to head home. at least you won’t be starving tomorrow on your commissions.

as soon as you entered your house, your phone lit up. “wait. as in childe, eleventh of the fatui harbingers, also known as tartaglia, feared by many on the battle field, currently stationed in liyue, major pain in the ass, and is currently ignoring some of his paperwork???” - @cryogoddess. your eyebrows furrowed as you read her message, “yes that’s him but why do you sound so freaked out and how do you know sm abt him?” another notification: “i can’t believe you’ve been thirsting to me abt CHILDE.” you: “KDJKSFJ YOU DIDNT ANSWER MY QUESTION - also??? i thought i told you his name did i not??? 😀” her: “no??? wow this definitely is...interesting” you: “BESTIE ANSWER MY QUESTION DO YOU KNOW HIM???” her: “i’ve gotta go, work is calling.”

you sighed in frustration as you tossed your phone on your bed. why was she so freaked out? you weren’t dumb, you knew there was something she wasn’t telling you but you trusted her enough to know she’ll let you know if it was important. you wondered as you pulled the covers over your head, if you’ll meet childe in your dreams and if you do, hopefully, in a less embarrassing scenario.

the next morning, you awoke to a barrage of texts from none other than @cryogoddess. they were all along the lines of you should go to bubu pharmacy and stock up on medication this evening (i heard they’re having a sale). you responded back with a maybe, if you had time today after your commissions and if xiangling didn’t stop by with some food. however, your mutual made you promise you would visit in the evening, even if it’s just for a few minutes. you gave in because a) you never could say no and b) she made it sound like it was urgent so maybe she was obsessed with medicine? hmmm you would have to figure out where she lived so you could send some to her.

you walked toward bubu pharmacy while tiredly sheathing your weapon, loosely taking in your surroundings. kids playing near the pond, teenagers chatting at the steps, adults keeping a watchful eye over their kids while laughing about the day’s events. your eyes studied the sign outside of bubu pharmacy. sale? what sale? there doesn’t seem to be anything regarding a sale?

“y/n?” a mildly familiar voice called your name. you whipped around looking for whoever uttered those words before your eyes fell on none other than one blue eyed harbinger. he was holding a few silk flowers in his hand as he stared at you with a sheepish smile.

“hi” you stuttered out. your mind was blank, what was happening?

“oh sorry, these are for you. i don’t mean to make you uncomfortable but i heard that you might be interested in me? you caught my eye at the stall yesterday, so i was wondering if you would want to grab lunch from the third-round knockout and then go watch the sunset at mt. tianheng? there’s this really cool trick i can do with my hydro vision where i can make the sunlight dance across the waypoint.”

you stared at him as you wordlessly took the silk flowers from his hands. the golden light of the setting sun cast his face in a beautiful sheen, softly showing off the gentle blush on his cheeks and the brilliant blue of his eyes. his auburn hair seemed to grow alive at the touch of the fiery light and all you could do was stare.

childe’s confidence seemed to wane with every passing second that you gazed at him, open mouthed, so he decided to save himself the embarrassment before hesitantly opening his own mouth.

“yes, i would love to” you quickly said. you smiled gently up at him.

“i would love to watch the sunset with you”

you felt your cheeks burning up as you looked at him with soft eyes. when he returned your expression with a dazzling smile of your own, you could feel yourself relax. yes, your heart rate was off the chart right now, but you were content. the sunset, childe, and the silk flowers was something you never knew you needed, but were glad you got. you had enough time later to worry about the oncoming mortification of how he found out you liked him.

a single notification appeared in your phone as the two of you walked laughing towards the mountain.

“you’re welcome <3″

BONUS:

“i know i’m too sexy for you to not fall in love with me” childe sighed dramatically as he leaned against you for support as the two of you went up the stairs.

you promptly rolled your eyes and pushed him down the steps as you walked ahead with his protests falling on deaf ears.

#BYE I FORGOT TAGS KAJDHDHS #genshin headcanons #genshin scenarios #genshin impact #childe x reader #genshin fluff #genshin imagines #genshin impact headcanons #genshin childe #tartaglia x reader #genshin tartagalia #tartaglia #genshin impact childe #genshin impact imagines #genshin impact tartaglia #genshin crack

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eliemo · 4 years

Text

The Worst Thing in the World

Summary: Everyone knows Virgil needs to be handled a little different. He might not like it, but that’s the way it is, and living with the light sides won’t change that. After all, it’s common sense. Right?

Notes: So this is a lot longer and sadder than I planned on but i tend to get carried away. All main 6 sides are sympathetic here.

TWs: Talk of physical violence, implied abuse (past) Sympathetic/morally gray Remus and Janus but Unsympathetic unnamed characters

Part Two: Getting There

Virgil paused outside the closed door, holding his breath and listening, ensuring everything was silent for what had to be the hundredth time.

It had taken him an embarrassingly long time to work up the courage to even make it down the hall.

But everything was quiet. Logan was with Thomas working on the schedule for the week and should be occupied for a while. It was fine. Virgil could slip in and out and no one would ever know.

He really shouldn’t be pushing his luck like this. They’d been so...so ridiculously nice to him since he’d tried to duck out, and it had been everything he’d wanted for longer than he knew how to say.

They were welcoming, understanding, and patient. And most of the time, he was able to convince himself it was genuine. That they were all trying.

And yeah, he knew it wouldn’t always be this good. He was still getting used to all of this, to being a part of things, so they were cutting him some slack. Letting him adjust. Giving him time to get comfortable.

Honestly, at times it was a bit painfully obvious how hard they were trying, especially considering how far from perfect he’d been despite his best efforts.

They’d let far too many things go in favor of getting Virgil to relax. Things that never would slide if he’d been around longer.

He’d put a clean glass in the wrong cabinet after his first dinner with the light sides, and Patton had only smiled, quickly corrected him, and moved on.

He’d accidentally spilled his drink on the table, and Roman had just shut down his string of prepared apologies with an almost odd smile before actually offering to clean it up himself.

(Virgil had, of course, shut the offer down. He knew what they were doing, pretending his mistakes could be overlooked, but it didn’t mean he was useless. He was still trying to be good)

Virgil had even bumped right into Logan the other day, moving too fast through the darkened hallway in his haste to get to his room, causing the logical side to stumble and drop some papers he’d been holding. Virgil hadn’t even gotten a chance to open his mouth before Logan had gracefully picked up the papers, gently told Virgil to slow down, and continued on his way.

It was...really kind of sweet, once he realized what they were doing. They knew he was wary, knew he wanted this so badly. So they were giving him extra chances, careful to be gentle as he settled in, not wanting him to duck out again.

But now, weeks later, things had been changing. Not in a bad way, of course. Far from it. Things were just...more comfortable. More familiar. He was actually starting to feel like a part of their family, like maybe he could actually belong, and the others seemed to actually agree, gradually relaxing in his presence.

Of course, it also meant all those extra chances wouldn’t be handed out freely anymore. He couldn’t expect to get away with things so easily now that he was settled in.

Which was why he really shouldn’t be sneaking into Logan’s room.

He was just...he needed something to do. His anxiety had been through the roof since he’d woken up, making him antsy and restless, and with the others busy all day he hadn’t had an outlet since breakfast.

He’d noticed Logan had been lost in a book for the past few days, rambling on about it a bit once he was finished that morning, and while Virgil couldn’t exactly remember any details, something about the title and general idea had piqued his interest. Or maybe he was just desperate at this point.

It had been a while since he’d been able to get into a good book, but it usually did help him calm down.

And of course he could just ask Logan but...he could all too easily picture the logical side mocking the request or turning him down without question, and while Virgil knew it was unrealistic, he couldn’t muster up the courage.

But it was fine. He knew what the cover looked like, he’d find the book, read it alone in his room, and return it when he got the chance.

Easy.

Except...well, that thought went right out the window as soon as he actually stepped inside. In hindsight, he should have seen it coming with how much Logan valued literature.

He just hadn’t expected Logan’s bookshelf to be so big.

Jesus, how many books could a guy even read? Logan barely even had any free time as it was. His library took up an entire wall, floor to ceiling, and Virgil didn’t think he’d ever seen so many books in his entire life. It was like something out of the fantasy stories Logan liked to deny enjoying.

Virgil knew he should turn back. He was still trespassing, and there was no way he’d find the specific book he was looking for in the limited time he had.

But...maybe the specific book didn’t even matter. He could find something to read, maybe even a few, just to keep him occupied until Logan was distracted in a few days and he could return them.

He carefully shut the door behind him, waiting a moment like Logan would pop up at any moment, and carefully approached the shelf.

They were all clearly meticulously organized, first by genre, then author in alphabetical order, and Virgil wondered how long it had taken Logan to do.

He scanned the genres: fiction, nonfiction, historical fiction, sci-fi, textbooks, articles…

There was a brief moment of panic as he ran his finger along some of the book’s spines, frantically wondering if he would even be able to put it back in the right place, and what Logan would do if he found out Virgil had stolen--

“Greetings, Virgil.”

Virgil jumped so hard his shoulder slammed into the edge of the shelf, fear and realization hitting full force as two books toppled over and fell to the ground, leaving behind silence louder than a gunshot.

Virgil was frozen like a deer in headlights, gaze locked on Logan who was giving the fallen books a quizzical look.

“Apologies for startling you,” he said, which was not how Virgil was expecting this to start, but it was almost worse than the anger he knew was coming. “I hadn’t expected you to be in here.”

Virgil tried not to flinch, legs feeling like jello, panicked mind running through endless possibilities of how this was going to go. He’d seen Logan angry, of course, heard him yell, seen him lose himself to frustrated rants.

It was impossible to know for sure how Logan would handle this, though. Handle him. He would want to discover the best method for a lasting impression, right? He’d probably been waiting to experiment different responses.

“Virgil?”

“Sorry,” Virgil said quickly, realizing he’d gone silent. “Sorry, I wasn’t...um, I wasn’t stealing. I-I know how it looks but I promise I was gonna bring them back I was just...I-I knew you were busy so…”

He trailed off, heart sinking when it occurred to him just how guilty he sounded. He was a thief whether he was going to return them or not, and here he was, babbling like a scared child in front of the evidence.

He swallowed, knowing there was no way out of it. He shouldn’t be trying to make excuses. “S-sorry.”

He couldn’t meet Logan’s eyes, but he saw the logical side take a cautious step forward. “You were...oh, the books. Virgil, if you were interested in borrowing some reading material you could have simply asked.”

Virgil did flinch this time, the reminder like a punch to the gut. God, why couldn’t he have just asked. A few seconds of anxiety and a bit of awkwardness would have been worth avoiding this.

What the hell was wrong with him? How could he sneak around and steal from the people he tried so hard to earn the trust of?

“I...I know,” he managed. “I just...sorry. I shouldn’t have, um, yeah. I know I shouldn’t have snuck in.”

“Oh, it’s quite alright,” Logan said, the blood rushing to Virgil’s ears as he came closer, voice nearly drowned out by his own racing heart. “It can hardly be considered sneaking- you do live here. Besides, I’ve read most of these already so you are welcome to--”

At the moment, all Virgil registered was Logan’s presence now beside him, and the hand moving forward just in the corner of his vision.

He was moving before he had the chance to even think about it, crumpling to the ground out of Logan’s reach, hands moving to protect his face, hunching his shoulders and waiting for the blow.

The blow that...that didn’t come.

“Virgil.”

Virgil flinched at his voice, biting his tongue to keep from whimpering. He could feel Logan standing above him, annoyed even more now, no doubt. What was he waiting for?

“Virgil,” he said again, softer this time. “Will you look at me, please?”

Oh. Oh, of course. Logan wouldn’t want to punish Virgil if he wasn’t sure the anxious side was even aware enough to understand. He wanted Virgil to see what he deserved.

He got that. He understood.

So he nodded, hating how hard it was, digging his nails into his palm when he felt himself growing dangerously close to hyperventilating. He wouldn’t let himself fall under a panic attack. He wouldn’t hurt Thomas because of this.

Virgil slowly raised his head, realizing idly that he was shaking. His throat felt tight, eyes burning, and Virgil kind of wished he could just hit himself.

God, what was wrong with him? He wasn’t going to cry. He couldn’t. He’d known what he was doing, knew all too well what would happen if he fucked it up, and he had (of course he had).

He deserved this. It was fine.

He was, however, mildly surprised to find Logan lowered to his level, the logical side crouched down on the balls of his feet, watching Virgil with an almost worried frown.

“Take some deep breaths, please,” he said. “I was only going to help you pick the books up off the floor. I apologize if I moved too quickly.”

Virgil shook his head, clenching his jaw to keep the teas at bay, not even sure how he was supposed to respond to that. Why the hell was Logan apologizing?

“It’s...it’s whatever,” he managed. “Sorry for, uh, you know. F-freaking out like...like that.”

“It’s quite alright.”

Virgil took a shaky breath, realizing Logan’s silence was probably him waiting to make sure he wasn’t about to send Virgil over the edge in any way that could affect Thomas.

His heart was in no way slowing, dread and apprehension rising unbearably but...but the waiting was only going to make it worse, the anticipation sickening. Best to get it over with.

“Alright,” he said, almost impressed with how steady his voice came out. “I’m ready.”

Virgil expected something to happen right then and there. He was less than prepared for the hesitation followed by...nothing?

“Ready?” Logan echoed. “Ready for...what?”

Virgil forced himself the shrug, still not able to quite reach Logan’s eyes, struggling to maintain nonchalance he didn’t feel in the slightest.

“I don’t know,” he muttered. “However, uh...however you wanted to do it, I guess. Whatever you’re gonna do.”

A beat of silence and Virgil remained tense, bracing himself, willing himself to relax and take it. But all that happened was Logan awkwardly clearing his throat, leaning back on his heels.

“Well,” he said. “I...had only planned on replacing the fallen books and assisting you in picking out some things to read.”

Virgil nodded, blinking furiously to push back tears fighting to break through. “Ok? Uh, you mean...before or-or after?”

“I’m...I’m afraid I don’t understand,” Logan admitted, incredibly out of character. “Have I missed something? What...exactly do you believe is happening?”

Virgil wasn't exactly sure why that mattered. Was this...was this part of it? Making sure he understood?

“Uhm, I-I broke into your room? I mean...I know I shouldn’t have taken your stuff without asking. I know...I know that’s not ok. I’m sorry.”

He saw Logan tilt his head slightly, frown deepening. “It really is not an issue, Virgil. My books aren’t exactly locked away. I would only prefer you ask next time so I do not end up startling you, but you’re reacting as if I--”

He stopped himself, and Virgil saw the moment realization dawned, something in Logan’s expression hardening.

Oh. Of course. Logan hadn’t been sure Virgil would know something like this was coming.

But he did, of course. He understood, as much as he hated it. He was anxiety, there wasn’t any other way to handle him. There wasn’t a choice.

“Ah,” Logan said, softer than before. “I see.”

Virgil nodded again, heart still racing so fast he thought Logan might be able to hear it, glad that now they could at least get it over with.

But Logan still wasn’t moving, still talking in that achingly gentle voice. “Virgil, I have no intention of harming you in any way. I’m not even remotely upset with you.”

And that...that didn’t make any sense. Virgil had literally just gone into someone else’s room without permission, and Logan had just said he’d prefer to be asked so why--?

Unless...unless he was being given another chance. Again. Another chance he didn’t deserve in favor of over the top friendliness.

“Don’t,” he said, before he could even consider stopping himself. “Don’t keep doing this, Logan, please I...it’s ok, you guys don’t have to keep pretending. I know you’re angry, I know--”

“I’m not angry,” Logan interrupted, firm but somehow still gentle, and Virgil shrank back. “I believe we have a larger issue to discuss as a group but for now please understand that I am not angry with you. And even if I was, I would never intentionally bring you any harm. I know for a fact the others would not either.”

Virgil shook his head, hating all of this, hating feeling small and pitied, hated delaying the inevitable like things could work any other way.

He hated the treacherous, nagging hope in his chest.

“But they will,” he insisted. “You all will, I know you're just...waiting to make sure I won’t leave again but I won’t. I know it's how it works, ok? It’s fine.”

The lie tasted like acid on his tongue. But some of it was true, at least. He wouldn’t try to leave again. He was finally feeling like a part of things. And if he was good, well...maybe that could last.

Logan was silent for a long moment, and Virgil was just beginning to think he’d finally managed to convince him to set the pity aside when he was speaking again.

“Virgil, do you think you could accompany me to the commons? I believe it is imperative to discuss this with the others.”

Virgil froze, realizing he may have just made a simple situation worse by raising his voice. Did Logan really need to get everyone? It was bad enough that just Logan was upset with him but all of them...

But he knew better than to risk any further anger by arguing. And Logan was carefully offering a hand, palm up, no sudden movements or pain when Virgil hesitantly took it and was helped to his feet, so maybe...maybe Logan wasn’t actually angry.

Not right now, at least.

Logan led them down the hallway to the living room, Virgil unable to stop his trembling the entire time, legs a bit unsteady and weak. He almost wished the short walk took longer, dread building up in his gut the closer he got like a man being led to the gallows.

He had to remind himself to breathe when he saw both Patton and Roman already there, lounging casually, all smiles amid easy conversation.

Logan cleared his throat, Virgil left to shift awkwardly beside him, the other two sides immediately glancing up with bright, welcoming smiles.

Virgil felt guilt twist in his gut at having to ruin that.

“I believe,” Logan started. “That we need to have a...family meeting, as Patton might call it. There’s been a bit of a miscommunication that needs clearing up.”

“Everything alright?” Roman asked as Patton, cheerful as ever, waved them both over. Logan didn’t answer, and Virgil was too busy staring at the ground to think of a reply.

He ended up being seated on the couch beside Roman, Patton sitting across from him and Logan standing at the arm of the couch. For a moment nobody spoke, Roman and Patton clearly at a loss.

“Virgil,” Logan prompted. “Would you mind telling the others what happened from your point of view?”

Virgil’s eyes widened, head snapping up to look at Logan with something almost like betrayal, and any hope he’d had that this was going to be forgiven without consequences suddenly vanished.

But Logan was quick to reassure him, hand moving to rest against Virgil’s clenched fist. “I assure you, nothing about my previous statements will change. I only want to ensure they have all the context.”

Virgil shakily nodded, like he had any choice in the matter, trying not to wince when his voice came out small and breathy when he finally spoke.

“I...I went into Logan’s room,” he admitted, waiting for yelling that never came. “While he was with Thomas. I-I was looking for something to read but-but I was going to give it back, I promise, I wasn’t stealing I was just too anxious to ask, so I--”

“Wait,” Roman interjected, curiosity turning to something close to amusement. “That’s all you did? I steal from Logan all the time!”

Logan blinked. “You what?”

“Kiddos,” Patton chided, unable to help the small smile on his lips. “Now we usually don’t go into people’s rooms without asking but I’m sure Logan understood. What’s this all about?”

Virgil suddenly had absolutely no idea how to respond, this entire conversation now taking a much different turn than he’d expected.

What the hell was happening? Was this...part of it? It sure felt like he was being punished, but Patton’s smile was as genuine as ever.

Logan leaned forward, furrowing his brow.

“Virgil can you tell us what you believe is going to happen to you? What you thought was happening when I found you?”

Virgil, far too lost to do anything but comply blindly, couldn’t understand why Patton and Roman suddenly looked so confused.

“I was...I was going to be punished, right?” He didn’t understand the purpose of making him explain something everyone already knew. “I mean, Logan said he wasn’t mad so I guess I’m getting another chance but any other time I would’ve--”

“Wait a minute, what?” It was Roman’s turn to sound baffled, all his attention now focused solely on Virgil. “Punished? What do you mean, like- like grounding you? You aren’t a child, Virge.”

“I do not think that’s what he meant.”

“But he...Logan, he--”

“Virgil believed,” Logan cut him off, sounding more hesitant than Virgil had ever heard him. “That some type of...physical punishment was inevitable. At least, that is what I gathered.”

“You think we’re going to hit you?” Patton’s voice, verging on frantic, easily overpowered the others. “Over this? Over anything?”

Virgil flinched back against the couch, desperately trying to figure out what he’d done wrong, how he’d managed to make this so much worse than it was just five minutes ago.

“I don’t...I'm sorry?”

“We’re not going to punish you, kiddo,” he said, the word ‘punish’ almost spat out like something sour. “We’d never do that to you! Never.”

And oh, that was Patton, trying so hard to be kind, even when he was so visibly furious. Looking out for all of them to the end. Careful not to let Virgil’s emotions affect Thomas.

“You guys don’t have to keep doing this.”

Patton blinked, trying and failing to get Virgil to meet his eyes. “Keep doing what, kiddo?”

“I’m not gonna duck out again,” he said, the smile he offered meant to be reassuring but he was certain it was wobbly and frail. “I-I like it here. With you guys. You don’t need to keep...cutting me all this slack. I know I keep messing up and I know if this is going to...work I have to be--”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

Roman’s language wasn’t even corrected, Patton hardly acknowledging the outburst at all, but the moral side looked somehow just as furious.

And there it was, genuine fear and panic returning with a vengeance, the sudden knowledge that he’d probably done irreversible damage in an effort to reassure them.

“Kiddo you...what is it that you think you’ve done wrong? You’re not...oh my god, you’re not talking about the little things, are you? Spills or- or misplacing something or...or…”

“I- yeah?” Because what else would he be talking about? “I’ve been...I’ve been trying to be good, so I-I don’t think I’ve done anything else to--”

“Is that how you think we handle things?” Roman was rigid beside him, his fury overwhelming, and Virgil hoped one of them would hurry up and just knock him unconscious. “So, what? If Logan drops something am I just supposed to hit him?”

“Roman,” Logan said, sounding oddly choked. “Please.”

And oh. Oh. The realization hit like a punch to the gut, and Virgil realized all at once why they were so upset with him. He hadn’t done anything wrong, it was just a stupid misunderstanding.

Oh, god.

“No!” He insisted, voice a little stronger in his desperation for them to understand their mistake. “No, of course not! That’s not...guys, that's not what I meant.”

The tension in the room dropped a bit, Prince relaxing just slightly, but three pairs of eyes were still watching, painfully concerned.

“Sorry, I’m so sorry I didn’t realize you thought that,” Virgil continued, a little lightheaded. “Not you guys, never you guys. Obviously not, you all wouldn’t...you shouldn’t be punished like that. Ever. I promise I was just talking about me.”

He expected relief, understanding, and hopefully to just get this whole thing over with so they could hurry up and go back to normal.

But apparently he’d only managed to make everyone even more distressed. Logan and Roman’s eyes had gone wide and Patton...Patton had tears streaming down his face.

“Why would you think that?” It was quiet, barely a whisper, but Virgil had never heard Patton sound so furious, so cold and lifeless.

“I...I don’t know why you’re--”

“Virgil why would you think that?” Patton was standing now, taking a step away from the couch with a hand moving to cover his mouth. Logan reached for his shoulder, only to be quickly shrugged off.

“Patton, please attempt to calm down.”

“But he...he said...why, Virge? Why just you?”

Virgil blinked, fighting to swallow past the lump in his throat, still hopelessly lost to what he’d managed to do wrong. Did they...not know? Even Logan? Wasn’t it just...common sense?

“It’s...because it’s me?” he offered weakly. “I-I’m anxiety. I tend to- to mess things up, guys. I have to be, you know, dealt with differently so it doesn't affect Thomas as much, right?”

He was met only with deafening silence, before Logan cleared his throat, looking for once like he wasn’t entirely sure what he should be saying.

“That hardly seems logical,” he said, no malice behind it. “How would punishing you more severely do anything but succeed in making your mental state worse?”

“I...I don’t know. But it works. It makes me more...cautious. You guys haven’t really had to deal with me and my fuck ups before but now that I’m here you’ll have to...I just uh, figured you knew this, I guess. I thought everyone did.”

“No,” Roman said, hardly audible at all. “We didn’t.”

Oh. Well...at least it was out now. Virgil may not like it, but he knew getting hurt sometimes was necessary. If it made their lives better, it was worth it in the long run.

But still…

The thought that if he’d only known, realized sooner that their willingness to let things go and love him unconditionally really was genuine, he could have maybe lived without the fear of punishment for the first time in so long.

So much for that. All he’d done now was manage to make them angry, and he honestly wasn’t even sure what he’d done to make them all so upset.

“Who told you that?” Roman asked, Virgil wincing despite himself. “Was it...if it was my brother--”

“It wasn’t,” Virgil said, not really sure if that was the answer Roman wanted, but it was the truth. Remus and Janus had never been the ones to use any sort of physical violence on him, though Virgil never had any doubt that they could. “It was the others. I...they told me...I really thought you guys knew.”

Now, looking at it from a suddenly concerning perspective, he wasn’t even sure Remus or Janus had known.

“Sorry,” Virgil said to the silence, not even sure why anymore. “It wasn’t always that bad. That’s why I asked Logan, I wasn’t sure how you guys...uh, planned on doing it but apparently you didn’t even know you had to so we can--”

And suddenly Patton was gone, stalking through the kitchen doorway, practically leaving behind a visible trail of utter fury as he went, and Logan was following with one last worried glance over his shoulder.

Oh god, they were both mad. He’d managed to upset everyone, ruin everything in one conversation, and he couldn’t even apologize properly because he still didn’t know what he’d done wrong.

He’d just been trying to tell them it was ok, that there was no other way to deal with him, that it really wasn’t that big of a deal. He hated it, sure. It terrified him. He wanted so badly for it to stop but it couldn’t, it…

It couldn’t. Could it?

He felt Roman shift on the couch, probably to hurry and follow the others into the kitchen to get away from the mess on the couch they’d accidentally welcomed into their family.

Before he could stop himself Virgil was reaching forward, grabbing Roman’s sleeve with a weak, trembling hand.

“Please.” And there was absolutely no point in trying to hide the unsteady wobble of his voice. “Will you...I-I just don’t know what I did wrong.”

“Oh, Virgil.”

When Prince moved, there was a split second of blind panic where Virgil thought he was being attacked. But it faded as soon as he registered strong arms around him, pulling him against Roman’s chest, and Virgil immediately burst into tears.

Roman was shushing him gently, holding him tight but somehow not uncomfortably confining, running his fingers through Virgil’s hair as he muttered quiet reassurances.

Virgil could only sob into his chest, overtaken by hiccuping gasps that left him dizzy and weak and unable to stop.

And yet he was distantly aware that through his tears he hadn’t stopped his string of endless apologies, the desperate words falling without his permission.

“You’re alright, darling,” Roman said, impossibly soft. “You’re alright. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“I-I ma-made him mad,” he insisted, breath catching on nearly every word as he tried in vain to calm down enough to speak properly. “Patton, I-I...h-he was mad, he’s upset and he’s...he’ll--”

“Patton isn’t angry,” Roman said. “He’s just a little upset. But not at you! You haven’t done anything.”

“But I…” he paused, aware enough to consider the words before he said them, how utterly unfair and selfish they were. But maybe…

“I don’t want you guys to hurt me.”

“We would never,” Roman said, holding tighter without hesitation. “I know you won’t believe this right away, and you’ll need to hear it from the others too, but just listen to me for now, ok?”

Roman pulled back, but only slightly. Virgil could still feel the Prince's heart beneath his own shaking fingers, and the creative side carefully cupped Virgil’s face in his hands.

“Nobody will ever hurt you again, Virgil. Nobody. I know we’ve only recently become friends, but I swear to you, for the rest of your life, you never have to be afraid of that again. Not from me, not from the others. Not from anyone.”

Virgil struggled to breathe, chest aching, lungs screaming for air, but the tears wouldn’t stop flowing. “But they...you have to th-they said--”

“They were lying,” Princey said, with so much venom Virgil had to forcibly remind himself that Roman wasn’t angry with him. “You heard Logan, it doesn’t make sense. No one should...you didn’t deserve that, Virge.”

But...but he’d...all this time he’d just…

“Patton will you please--”

“No, Logan! I can’t I- did you hear him?”

Patton and Logan were still in the next room over, and Virgil could now just make out the two of them standing at the threshold. He forced himself not to whimper at the obvious anger that came from both of them, but didn’t stop himself from clutching at Roman tighter, beyond grateful when Princey did the same.

“I did,” Logan said. “I was standing right there. But Patton--”

“How could they…god, how could they just--?”

“Patton.” Logan hadn’t yelled, not exactly, but it was loud and stern enough to quiet the other’s rant. “I know. I understand that you’re upset- we all are. But right now Virgil thinks you’re upset with him.”

Virgil’s breath hitched in the sudden silence that followed, doing his best to focus instead on Roman’s breathing, feeling the Prince move to rub along Virgil’s back, still hushing and whispering quiet reassurances.

He cringed when he heard a tiny gasp followed quickly by two pairs of footsteps making their way towards the couch, and he wondered just how far Roman would have to go to keep his promise.

“Oh, baby I’m so sorry.” That was Patton’s voice right above him, soft and sad and...and no longer quite so angry. “Honey...can you look at me please?”

Virgil tensed, reluctantly moving his head away from Roman’s chest, face burning as he let the others see his tear stained face, heart clenching when he realized Patton wasn’t much better off.

“Sorry,” Virgil whispered, guided more on frantic instinct than anything else. “Sorry, sorry, I’m sorry.”

“You have nothing to be sorry for.” Patton reached forward, slow and nonthreatening, lacing his fingers with Virgil’s. “I’m sorry. I’m not angry with you, kiddo. Nobody’s gonna hurt you. We would never do that.”

And god, Virgil wanted so badly to believe that, to hold onto every word, every sympathetic gaze, everything that was so clearly real love rather than pity and never let it go.

He wanted to feel safe with them. He wanted it more than anything.

But...but they had all been angry. He’d seen it just moments ago, heard the unmistakable fury in their voices.

And maybe he’d spoken aloud without realizing, or maybe Logan was just exceptionally good at reading him, because suddenly the logical side was crouched beside Patton, carefully meeting Virgil’s watery eyes.

“We were not angry at you,” he said slowly. “We’re only angry at whoever thought it was alright to hurt you. Who made you think you could ever deserve it.”

“But I…” he didn’t know why he was arguing, why he was frantically searching for reasons to destroy something he wanted to desperately. He settled for the only reason he’d ever really been given. “I’m anxiety.”

“You do represent Thomas’s fears, yes,” Logan said. “As well as many other fundamental functions.”

“That doesn’t make you bad, kiddo,” Patton chimed in. “We love you. All of you. We’re all gonna mess up sometimes, and that’s ok. Mistakes are part of being human.”

“Well technically we are not human,” Logan pointed out, earning an exasperated sigh from Roman. “But Patton’s point still stands. Each and every one of us will make mistakes. That is, of course, why we have each other. Not to punish, but to assist each other.”

And that...wow, that sounded good. Impossibly good. God, how did he manage to surround himself with the kindest people in the universe?

“But what if I…” he swallowed, trying to figure out how to phrase his worries. “If I do something wrong, like...like really bad--”

“Then we will discuss it as a group,” Logan said. “And work together to determine what happened and how to fix it without any lasting negative effects. Not just for Thomas, but for all of us.”

“Indeed!” Roman agreed with his usual flair, reaching around to lightly squeeze Patton and Virgil’s intertwined fingers. “And if any of the others attempt to bring you harm again, they’ll have to get through me first!”

“All of us,” Patton said, wiping his eyes with his free hand and flashing Princey a grateful smile. “We won’t let that happen to you again.”

Virgil shrugged, overwhelmed, aware the gesture did nothing to mask the emotion in his eyes. “It’s...it’s really ok, you guys. They aren’t like you, they were just...doing what they thought they had to.”

Logan frowned, averting his gaze. “Unlikely.”

“That doesn’t make it ok,” Patton said before Virgil could question exactly what that meant. He wasn’t sure he wanted to know. “And we can see it left you really afraid, kiddo.”

“I-I guess. Yeah.”

“Sometimes talking about traumatic experiences can be the first step to moving past them,” Logan said. “And we will, of course, be willing to listen and help however we can.”

Virgil... didn’t really want to talk about. He still wasn't quite able to wrap his head around the fact that it wasn’t a necessity, never actually had been, a part of him still wholly convinced this was some kind of cruel, awful trick.

But...but Logan was looking at him with such gentle earnestness, Roman and Patton both nodding and smiling in gentle encouragement, those doubts were quickly being pushed to the side. At least for now.

They all looked so eager to help, Virgil couldn’t bring himself to shut them down the way his panicked brain, so used to isolation, was screaming at him to do.

And besides, maybe it could help. Maybe talking would help him come to terms with...whatever it really was that had happened.

But not right now. He wasn't sure he could handle anything else.

“Maybe,” he said after a moment. “Just, uh...not now. I don’t...I mean, i-if that’s ok, I don’t think I’m...ready.”

“Of course, sweetie,” Patton said, not sounding disappointed in the slightest, only understanding and patient. “Whenever you’re ready. You can come to us in your own time.”

“Is there...anything we can do for you now?” Roman asked. “Anything to make you feel better?”

“I guess, uh-” he paused, wondering if it was too much, too selfish a thing to ask. “Maybe just...stay here for a bit? All of us? Only if- if you aren’t busy, obviously, it’s ok if you are, I just thought maybe--”

“I think that is an excellent suggestion, Virgil,” Logan said. “Having some company will do you good.”

Patton practically squealed, squeezing Virgil’s hand before hurrying to his feet, blinding smile on his face. “Ooh! We can make some snacks and bring some blankets over! Be right back!”

Virgil was carefully maneuvered (probably a bit overly careful, like he was glass that could shatter at any moment) so he was now comfortably pressed against Logan’s side, Roman hurrying to follow Patton with promises to return in seconds, departing with a kiss to Virgil’s forehead.

Virgil was almost surprised when Logan’s arm moved to wrap around his shoulders, keeping him close, almost as protective and warm as Roman. He’d have thought Logan would be more averse to physical content.

He’d never been so glad to be mistaken, basking in the warmth like it was a sunlit room.

Virgil took a breath, breathing a bit easier now. “I really am sorry. I probably...really freaked you out, huh?”

“No apologies necessary,” Logan said. “I believe it’s safe to say you were much more...err, freaked out, as you would say.”

Virgil smiled, relaxing into his hold, but there was still something heavy sitting in his chest, nagging at him to voice it aloud.

“I feel like an idiot.”

“You shouldn’t.”

“But I do.” He didn’t move, terrified he’d lose his nerve without the warmth at his side. “I...it was stupid. All of this. I actually thought that...I still don’t really think that this can work. Without...doing all that when I screw up. I want to but it’s...I thought there wasn’t any other way.”

“There is no reason for you to be held to a different standard than anyone else,” Logan said, slow and careful. “We plan only on treating you as an equal. As someone we care very much for.”

“I should have known,” he muttered. “You guys are r-really...really great. I shouldn’t have accused you of that.”

There was a beat of silence that stretched on just a moment too long, and any other time Virgil might have taken that as a perfectly reasonable excuse to begin panicking all over again.

But with Logan’s protective hold still firmly around him, the easy warmth in his chest that lingered from everyone’s kind words...he couldn’t find it in him to be particularly worried over Logan taking a moment to think.

“You did not accuse us of anything,” the logical side said, continuing before Virgil could argue. “You reacted to what you assumed to be normal, no one can fault you for that. You’ve been taught to have a very particular mindset. As...upsetting as it is, your reaction was perfectly logical based on the information you had.”

Logan’s arm moved, just for a moment, to reach around and squeeze Virgil’s hand, just like Patton and Roman had done, just another reminder of newfound safety.

“What we need to do now,” Logan said. “Is work on making sure you never feel that way again.”

Virgil nodded against him, finding that, at least for the moment, his want to believe, to be safe and welcomed, was enough to outweigh the storm of doubt in his racing mind.

“Ok,” he said, glancing up just in time to see Logan’s relieved smile, loosening his hold as Roman and Patton hurried back to the living room. “Thank you.”

As the four of them settled down and rearranged themselves, there was an all too familiar burning in Virgil’s eyes, a tight twisting in his chest. But this time, it wasn’t from panic or fear.

This time, if he cried from this feeling, from being content and accepted, it might not be the worst thing in the world.

#sanders sides #fanfiction #thomas sanders #virgil sanders #logan sanders #patton sanders #roman sanders #ts virgil #ts logan #ts patton #ts roman #polysanders #prinxiety #analogical #moxiety #angst #writing

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jadedxrealityw · 3 years

Text

-Second And Third Chance- Tony Stark x Female Reader

☼-☪-☼

Kody: favorite dilf- i’m sorry lmao

Movie/Show: after endgame. but no one is dead because i’m still in denial.

Summary: (Backstory included) Being the fiancee of Tony Stark was all you could dream of, but not everyone is perfect and Tony is certainly no saint. Even with Thanos being gone, Tony is still obsessing on how to keep you safe from other worldly beings, but due to his own ignorance ends up losing you all by himself.

Possible Triggers / Warnings: angst with fluff ending, cursing, Tony being Tony, F.R.I.D.A.Y and Wanda being your besties lmao,

☼-☪-☼

you wondered how you were ever came across such a man. Narcissistic, arrogant, just completely full of himself in every way possible. You had met the infamous Tony Stark at a shield ball/party so long ago. He was charming, you’ll admit, but you were fully aware of his playboy status.

you wore a long black off the shoulder dress that started skin tight at the top and flowy at the bottom, also sporting a slit down the side of the dress. Some said hi and gave you compliments on your outfit. You wanted to find Fury so you could talk to him as he was the only person you really knew.

walking along the floor a woman holding a platter of drinks offered you one and you gladly accepted it. You spotted Fury a few tables away, talking amongst Natasha Romanoff and Steve Rogers. Once you made it over, you slipped yourself into a empty seat.

Fury noticed you first and patted your shoulder “Didn’t think these parties were your scene Agent L/n” he spoke with his usual formality. You hummed into the glass of wine as you took a sip “They are not, but i needed a reason to drink” you admitted, earning a chuckle from Natasha.

you then took the time to look at both of them and smile “Natasha Steve. Still doing the whole saving the world thing?” you say. Steve cracks a smile and nods once “The world can’t seem to give us a break” he says. A chuckle bubbled in your throat “Not that you would take it though, right cap?”

you four spent a good thirty minutes talking about the usual, until Maria Hill showed up then you got to talking about new missions that he Fury only trusted you all with. You were like Fury third in command. Someone Maria had recommended if something would have ever happened to her.

not to long Natasha and Steve had left the party earlier then expected, but they were always in the rush. You, Fury, and Maria were now standing next to the table. Maria’s phone rang and she slipped it from her bag and pressed the green button “Yes?...Give me ten minutes”

she hung it up and put it back in her bag. Fury looked at her with a questioning stare “I’m going to assume Romanoff or Rogers were on the end of that line. Would the rest of us be needed?” he asked. Maria shook her head “No. Just a minor problem. I’ll call if it escalates”

Fury nods once and gestures with his head to the exit, dismissing her. They were so loyal to each other. Maria then sends you a polite smile before exiting the ballroom. You placed your cup on the table were you all resided minutes ago “Should we be concerned?” you ask.

he shakes his head “They’ll be fine. I like to come in at the end anyway, makes me alluring” he says, making you stifle a bit of laughter. “Right” you agreed not really wanting to dwell in that subject. Only seconds later is when an unfamiliar voice spoke “Nick”

both you and Fury turn around and see the nice tailored suit belonging to the less nice man of Tony Stark. Fury cracks a small grin and holds his hand out “Stark, fashionably late” he points out. Tony grabs his hand and shakes it “Well if i wasn’t i’d be stuck looking like you losers.”

did this grown man just call you both losers? Okay then. You folded your arms over your chest, not really paying much attention to there very testosterone filled conversation. Tony eyes removed themselves from Fury and looked at you “and who is this?” he asked.

you removed your eyes from the people walking past you and looked towards the billionaire “ This is Agent L/n. works alongside Agent Hill and myself” Fury explains. You give Tony a polite nod “It’s Y/n L/n” you say. Tony grins and went to say something more when Fury coughed.

“I’m going to use the bathroom. Tony don’t be weird” he spoke before leaving you both by your lonesome. Great. “May i offer you another drink?” he asked and you shook your head “I already had one and i have to be alert at all times. It’s in the job description. Very fine print”

“Sounds like you need a vacation or a xanax” he makes a face, earning a small smile from you “Maybe, but i like my job too much” you reply. Tony steps to the side and gestures with his hand for you to walk. You didn’t see much wrong with that, just a friendly stroll. Why not.

you step in forward and Tony lifts his arm up a bit for you to link yours. ‘What a charmer’ you thought before slipping your arm through his. YOu both began to walk slowly through the ballroom “So what does your significant other think about how much you work?” he asked.

‘very slick’ “I don't have a boyfriend or girlfriend at the moment. Tried dating on the job, but no one really understands how much working here changes you in a way” you explained, Tony nodding along with your answer. Being an Agent had its perks and downfalls.

“Why did you get into this line of work, if you don’t mind me asking?” Tony questions. It was strange seeing him be so genuine with his wording, the complete opposite of what Fury, Steve, Natasha, or Maria had to say about him. It was pleasant.

you gulp, a few choice memories deciding to flood your mind “I worked CIA with my sister for awhile. Our whole family was worked in some form of Government job. Then the 2012 attack happened and we were told to stand down. Me and my sister were stubborn so we didn’t”

you inhale deeply and managed to keep your formal smile upon your face despite the urge to down another glass of wine and call it a night “No one knew about aliens back then, but we wanted to help people in any way we could. In hindsight it was very stupid of us”

your mind began to wander to something else, the smile fading from your face and be replaced with a blank stare. For an expression so neutral it would be hard to tell that you were reliving a terrible memory. Crashing, a blood curdling scream, your pleas, and a then silence.

Tony looked at you once you had stopped talking abruptly and used his free hand to pat your shoulder. You broke out of whatever horrific trance you were in “Sorry, zoned out- anyway my sister ended up passing, i was charged with treason funny enough, but Fury convinced them to drop the charges”

Tony chose to ignore the brief daze you were in for your own sake and you two continued your stroll. The night ended with more talking and much needed laughter. He also offered you a ride home and you gladly took him up on that. It was really nice.

when you got to your house he asked you on a date to a very nice restaurant near your place. You accepted even though your brain was telling you not to. On the day of the date you ended up being called in and canceled. He said he understood and that you could reschedule anytime.

you never did go on that date

☼-☪-☼

just like most things it only happened once and you figured that was that. Spending a couple magical hours talking to Tony Stark would be any girls dream and just like dreams you awoke to reality. You had a job and had many other important things to do beside fantasize about a billionaire.

that was until Hydra took over Shield in 2014, you and Fury faked your deaths. Tony actually went to your funeral, wearing sunglasses and standing away from everybody. It was pretty sad, but you had a job to do. fury actually came back, but you stayed in hiding.

then in 2015 when Ultron was a the main problem and you were itchy to bash some robots skulls in- wait they don’t have skulls. Whatever, Fury wouldn’t get involved. Then Sokovia became a giant plane and Fury caved. After a year of doing grunt work you could finally fight.

all the staff, including you loaded up a helicarrier. You made your way to the command center where Fury and Maria resided “Ah Agent Y/n. Glad that you could join us. Already suited up i see?” Fury points to your all black outfit and mask.

shrugging, you walked towards the front “I’ve been ‘dead’ for a year, cut me some slack for being excited” you say. Fury nods, agreeing with your statement before facing forward. “Set a course to Sokovia and making it fast” Maria announced.

and with that, you were off

☼-☪-☼

Maria hacked into the Avengers coms and connected Fury’s, your’s, and her own. “Where else am i gonna get a view like this?” a woman said through your earpiece. You instantly recognize it as Nat. You missed her so much, god you couldn’t wait to talk to her again.

“Glad you like the view Romanoff. It’s about to get better” Fury spoke, folding his arms behind his back, interlocking his hands. The helicarrier started to raise above Sokovia. Holy shit this is high. As you ascended you were able to see Nat and Steve standing together. Nat cut her hair, it looks pretty.

rest of the staff began to enter the command room and set up “Nice right? Pulled her out of mothballs with a couple old friends. She’s dusty, but she’ll do” he spoke. “Fury you son of a bitch” Steve said right back. Did he just curse? That had to be Ultron.

“Woah, you kiss your mother with that mouth?” Fury said with a fake surprised tone. His comment made you chuckle a bit since he had a foul mouth. Hypocrisy am i right? “Altitude is 18,000 and climbing” Maria spoke, typing away on her keyboard like desk.

another guy spoke up from behind you “Lifeboats secure to deploy, disengage in three...two...take them out ” he clicked one final button and sat back. You felt the helicarrier rumble beneath you, which meant the lifeboats were being sent to the ground.

oh shit. You were supposed to be on one of those. “Shit!” you yell before running out the command room. You raced down the stairs and made your way to the deck. You watched as a lifeboat flew right below. This is such a bad idea. Your doing it anyway.

taking a couple steps back, you mentally prepare yourself before running as fast as you could. As you touch the edge you jump and launch yourself off the helicarrier. The lifeboat came closer to you until your shoulder collided with it. You hissed and slowly pushed yourself up “Damn- that’s gonna sting”

“Did you just jump off the helicarrier?” Fury says through the coms

“Who did?” Steve spoke

“Oh you know, backup-” Fury replies before Maria cut in “Sir we have multiple bogeys on our starboard flank” she spoke and indeed when you looked up you saw a bunch of Iron man suits flying above. Oh shit. “Show them what he got” he replied back.

you reach down and pull both guns out the holsters that were on both of your thighs “It feels good to be back” you said to yourself. You heard something fly above you that wasn’t a Bogey and saw War Machine- Rhodey blasting through a bunch of them. He’s pretty cool.

just as you were about to bask in the moment a Bogey landed on the lifeboat and came charging at you. It swung and you ducked just in time, lifting your foot to kick it in the chest. As it stumbled back you raised your gun and shot it straight in the head.

the literal lights behind its glass ‘eyes’ flickered until it shut off and it fell to the ground. “It better not be that easy to kill the actual Iron Man” you spoke. “And your not gonna find out” a voice spoke. You turn around and see Tony in his suit, with his arm raised, ready to attack you.

you raise your hands “Woah- What the hell Stark!” you shout. Oh shit- you had a mask. “I’m on your side” you add. Tony tilts his head “Really, prove it” he says. You slowly move your hand. as to not startle him and slowly pull the mas down from your face “Hey Tony”

he visibly tensed up. His mask retracting back into his face. Still has handsome as ever. He reaches up with both arms and takes off his helmet, dropping it to the side. “So is faking your death a Shield initiation thing or you just really didn’t want to go out with me?” he asked.

you cracked a smile and dropped your arms to your sides “I told you work gets in the way” you said. He went to say something when four Bogeys landed on the lifeboat. Damn you couldn’t let any on until you landed. Tony groaned dramatically and shot one in the chest, causing it to fall off the ship.

“No. See regular work doesn’t involve faking your death. I went to your funeral you know?” he says. You drop off and push off the seat and onto the Bogey, wrapping your thighs around its head. You push the barrel of the gun against the top of its head and shot “I know. I was there!” you shout.

“Oh that’s just great. You saw me all vulnerable and teary” he says with a scoff. what was happening right now. You drop to the ground and the Bogey grabs your leg, pulling you back. You shot it in the arm and it lets go “I actually didn’t know you cried. That’s kind of cute though”

you shoot the Bogey in the head and stand up on your feet. Just as you are about to take a step, a metal arm wraps around your neck, pulling you back. Oh yeah there was four. You went to reach behind as Tony shot through it’s head. The grip around your neck was released and you pushed it’s corpse off.

“Your welcome” Tony spoke, he still sounded snappy. “Your such a baby Tony. What can i do to make you stop moping?” you ask, putting one of your guns into the holster. You look behind you as the lifeboats pull up next to Sokovia “One date after all this. So i can show you what you missed of course”

you crack a smile, pulling your hood off your head. You raise your hand and hold up one finger “One date. That’s it” you say and he nods along “That works for me” he replies before picking up his helmet. He puts it on his head “But you’ll come back for more” he says as his face is covered by metal once more.

☼-☪-☼

present

you ended up did going on that date with Tony and he was right, there would be multiple date and girts until he finally asked you to be in a relationship. It was any big grand gesture that you expected from him, it was simple and sweet. It took him three years for him to propose in 2018.

but he was always one to wait.

the second battle with Thanos, but everyone seemed to be somewhat recovering, but Tony wasn’t himself anymore. You already knew he was a workaholic, but it had never been this bad. He’d stay up all night working on new tech. Security, suit adjustments, anything.

when it first started happening you chalked it up to his response to trauma. One night you suggested he’d go to therapist. Just one session and if he thought it would work then he could continue and vise versa. Tony ended up shooting down the idea with a couple harsh words.

it was strange to see him yell at you because he had never done before. It was like you were talking to an entirely different person. It scared you to be honest, but you loved him. A whole year after Thanos had gone by and he was just falling deeper and deeper into his work and less into you.

“Friday, is Tony awake?” you spoke, pouring coffee into a black mug. You place it on the silver tray and grab the light beige cardigan off the counter, slipping it over your white sports bra. “Yes Miss. Would you like me to inform him your coming down to the lab?” Friday asked.

“No that’s alright. I’d rather surprise him. Thank you Friday” you say and grab the tray off the counter, it had a mug of coffee and a plate of pancakes. You knew he wouldn’t have eaten already “Just doing my job Miss” she replies. You smile to yourself. You liked listening to her accent.

☼-☪-☼

you push open the door with the side of your hip since your hands were full “Tony!” you call out, looking around the lab one time. You stop as you see your lovers head pop up behind a machine you were unfamiliar of “Y/n? What’re you doing up? It’s late” he said, putting down a tablet.

you roll your eyes and walk over to the big table in the middle, placing the tray down “It’s nine in the morning, love” you reply. Was he starting to lose track of time now? This place needed more windows clearly. Tony put on a confused face as he scratched the back of his neck “Really?”

nodding, you lift up the mug of coffee from the tray and make your way over to Tony. You dodge a few tools laying on the ground and hand him the cup “Drink” you say. He takes it from you and brings it to his lips “Thanks” he says. While he drank you studied his face. He looked so exhausted.

it broke your heart

“You look terrible by the way” you comment, causing him to crack a small smile. “You said yes to this face, remember that” he retorts. Well he wasn’t wrong about that one. “That is true, seriously i want you out the lab today and into bed. Tomorrow is an important day”

Tony goes silent for a moment and you can tell he was trying really hard to think “Tony” you said, your voice sounding like a mom who was getting ready to lecture there child for forgetting to do homework. “I know i know- important day. Can’t wait for that...day”

you narrowed your eyes “Friday” you called out. “Yes Miss” she replies instantly. “Read me Tony’s schedule that he set for himself for the week” you ask. Tony steps forward, but you take a step back, moving away from him. “There is nothing on Mr. Stark’s schedule this week Miss”

wow

moving away from Tony, you walk over to the table “It’s our anniversary tomorrow you ass” you snap at him. Tony sighs and runs his hand over his face “I’ve been busy-” “You’ve never forgot it before” your tone was unusually calm, which through Tony off.

“Thanos is dead Tony”

“I know-”

“Then what are you doing?!” you shout, shocking yourself at the loudness of your own voice. “I’m trying to keep you safe!” he exclaims. Your fist clench. God you loved this man, but you wanted to punch him in the nose “You know i thought that you would get over this, but i can’t take much more”

your words seem to scare Tony a bit, but you continued to speak “It’s been a year Tony. You don’t sleep next to me, we barely talk unless it’s me making sure you don’t fucking starve to death, we haven’t been intimate in god knows how long. I’m tired of being neglected”

crying for a man was so pathetic, so you reached up and wiped any forming tears away with your thumb. Tony reached his arms out and wrapped them around you. You wanted to push him away, but he hasn't hugged you in so long, so you gave in.

he rubbed the back of your head as you let a few tears fall onto his shirt “I’ll stop okay- look i promise i’ll get some sleep and will have a whole day together okay?” he says. You were mad and you wanted to scream at him, but you also loved him and wanted to give him a second chance.

“Okay, but i swear Tony. You screw this up and-” you were cut off by him placing his lips on yours. Damn Stark. You smiled lightly into the kiss and pull away a couple seconds later “and you’ll throw me out on my ass i know.” he says.

you ended up making Tony go to sleep in your shared room while you cleaned up his lab and such.

☼-☪-☼

the anniversary, night

you were waiting outside a restaurant since Tony wanted to show up in his car to ‘swoon’ you wearing a black jumpsuit, it was his favorite color on you You looked at your phone and noticed he was about ten minutes late, but that didn’t worry you much since he liked to be fashionably late.

he’d come. He wouldn’t risk his last chance.

would he?

☼-☪-☼

after two hours Happy ended up picking you up and taking you back to your home. He apologized for Tony a couple times, but you said it was fine. Once you got home you kicked off your heels at the door. You were kind of running on autopilot just in shock and realization at the same time.

you knew what you had to do, but at the same time you didn’t want to, but it was over. You gave Tony a chance and he blew it. Nine years down the drain in a flash. You just couldn’t believe it. Walking down the hall, you wipe your face from the warm tears.

shutting the door to your shared bedroom, you go over to the closet “Miss you seem to be in distress is there anyway i can help?” Friday spoke. For an AI she was very self aware on feelings. “Is Tony awake Friday?” you ask, going over to your closet. “No Miss, he is asleep in the lab. May i call someone for you?”

you open the closet and pull out a suitcase you had in there and bring it over to the bed “Call Wanda” you say as you unzip the suitcase, opening it up and throw it on the bed. “Of course Miss, contacting Wanda Maximoff” she replies. After a couple seconds you hear her voice.

“Y/n? It’s late, are you alright?” she asked. You had confided in Wanda about your relationship problems with Tony since you were both in a long term relationship. You had also told her about the anniversary thing and Tony’s last chance. she said if it didn’t work out yo could stay at her place.

“Hey Wanda- uh. Yeah i know it’s late but-” you didn’t get to finish speaking when Wanda cut you off “Are you crying? Tony didn’t come did he? Know what? i’m on way. He better like a car through his window” she threatens, you could hear her moving around and the sound of keys. Well damn-

you began to grab your clothes from your dresser and stuff them in your suitcase “He’s sleeping, just pull in the front. I’ll send you the gate code okay?” you say, beginning to take off the jumpsuit you were wearing. “Fine, but no promises if i see him in the street. I’ll see you soon Y/n, goodbye”

Wanda hung up the phone “Friday-” “I sent Wanda the gate code. Before you leave would you like to leave a message for Mr. Stark?” Friday asked. You grab a dark green sweater and jeans from your dresser and throw them on quickly. You didn’t bother to pack the jumpsuit.

you wanted Tony to know why you had left so he could see the consequences of his actions and so that he wouldn’t tear the city apart thinking you were kidnapped. “I will, can you record a holographic message?” you ask. “Yes Miss, also Wanda will be arriving in 15 minutes”

“Okay”

☼-☪-☼

Tony awoke to the sound of his alarm blaring off into his ear “Shit. Friday shut that off!” he groans, lifting his head from the table “Yes Boss” she replies and the alarm shuts off. “Y/n has left a message for you to listen too. It is very important” she adds.

“Play it” he says going to lay his head back down on the table “It is a holographic message, Boss” Friday says. Tony begrudgingly lifts his head and leans it on his arm “Play it” he repeats. A second later you appeared sitting on the chair at the table with a blue hue around you.

“Hey Tony” you spoke a half smile on your face. tony would have found comfort in it if he doesn’t your puffy eyes and saddened expression. His head lifted on his arm “Remember our anniversary, you know your last chance and all that? Yeah.” you began. Tony sighed mumbling curses under his breath.

“I care about you, i have since you talked to me at the Shield dance, but i haven’t been your first priority in a while and i get it, but you promised when i left Shield that you would always make time for me. I know that Thanos shook you and you won’t admit it, but you need realize that something bad isn’t lurking around every corner”

Tony watched as you reached up and rubbed your eyes, the scene tugging on his heartstrings “We need a break from each other Tony, just for a little while. I’m going to stay with some friends. Please try to help yourself, get out the lab, clean yourself up, all of that.”

you pulled something off your ring finger and placed it on the table. Tony looked down and saw the silver ring with three aquamarine stones. He remembered proposing to you with it. You said the color reminded you of his reactor. Weirdly enough your hologram looked up at him and smiled.

“I’ll be waiting” you said and then flickered away “That’s the end of the message, Boss” Friday says. Tony slowly picked up the ring off the table. You had recorded the message in hear, talking to his sleeping body. He wished he had woken up.

☼-☪-☼

three months later

staying with Wanda was fun, but after a month or so you decided to get your own place. As much as you loved your big house you shared with Tony you bought small cabin well away from the city. It was quiet, it was outdoors and you loved it.

when you and Tony got engaged you ended up retiring from Shield so you could be more at home and help Tony with his work, but now even though you didn’t need a job you also didn’t like the idea of sitting on your ass. In that night of packing you put your old suit in there while on autopilot.

It took awhile, but you called up Fury and he was more than happy to let you back in “What does Stark have to say about all this?” he asked and you just sighed quietly “What Tony doesn’t know won’t hurt him” you replied and he didn’t ask any more questions after that.

getting back into your old life was pretty easy. All you needed was to get back into your regular exercise regiment that you had been lacking on and you felt more confident than ever. You didn’t feel neglected or forgotten, the complete opposite, you felt badass.

one day when you were walking out the store after picking up some groceries you felt eyes on you as you walked along the sidewalk. After years of being an Agent you knew when you were being followed. What was strange was that it felt like someone was watching you from above.

having a hunch at who it might be you quickly looked up and see a quick blur of red and blue swing away from your vision. Was this kid following you? but why? You duck into an alley way and walk slowly. You hear him drop behind you and follow your steps.

“Peter”

“Hi” he replies in nervous tone. You turn around, placing your free hand on your hip “Why have you been following me all week Peter?” yopu ask. You haven’t talked to Peter in months. Did he need something? Peter lifts his arm and grabs the top of his mask, pulling it off of his head.

he was lucky you were in a remote part of the city “Mr. Stark told me you weren’t together at the moment” he starts, looking at his feet. “I just wanted to make sure you were doing alright” he says and flashes a toothy grin. Aw- wait. “Did Tony ask you to check on me?”

Peter shook his head “No. He’s been busy with setting up the new senteries and therapy- i mean i don’t know. I just missed you and i can tell Mr. Stark is trying to change, but i hate to see you both so sad. I couldn’t imagine not being with Mj” he says. This kid was too adorable.

not only that he went out of his way to see how you were doing. Wait- what did he say about Tony “What senteries?” you asked, stepping closer to him. Peter started to fidget a bit “Uh- i really have to get going-” “Peter” you said in a demanding tone.

he exhaled deeply, knowing he wasn’t getting out of this “Mr. Stark has a whole line of senteries to sell to the senator so he can finally retire from being Iron Man. Not fully retire just on a long term vacation- that’s what he called it.” he spoke. Holy shit- you hoped he had done this for himself

and you as well- but mostly himself

a smile creeped onto your face. The most stubborn man you had ever met changed. “When does he plan on doing this?” you say to Peter “A dinner party this weekend. I wasn’t supposed to say anything until it was done. He was going to do some grand gesture to show you he’s changed”

you shook your head and placed a hand on Peter’s shoulder “Don’t be. For once i’m doing the grand gesture”

☼-☪-☼

saturday

after figuring out and planning on when and where you were going to show up you decided to tap into Friday’s systems and watch most of his speech then find Tony when the time was right, preferably when he was alone. Being with Tony for so long you figured out a way to enter your shared home, undetected.

once you were in the building you hid away in a spare room that was never used “Friday show me the room Tony’s in” you spoke, pulling out your phone “Yes Miss” she spoke and on your screen you saw Tony in the dining room. You lift your phone and flick it so its projected off the screen.

your eyes latched to Tony as soon as it turned on. He looked so different and healthy. It was pleasing to see that he was doing much better. You were also glad he took your advice. A warmth invaded your chest, it’s like you fell in love with him all over again.

gosh how you wanted to run into his arms that very moment.

“So Stark, why retire now?” the senator asked, taking a sip of wine from the glass he held. Tony seemed to tense up the question, but no one noticed other then you and Tony himself “If you asked me three months ago i would have told you to go to hell and that i don’t need to retire”

“and now?”

“Well back then i had my fiancee and thought i was the king of the world. Then i lost her because of my workaholic nature- also i’m not retiring Iron, Man will still be here for whoever needs him, but i think it’s time i put my future wife first if i want to keep her” he shrugs his shoulders casually.

most at the table were stunned into silence before the senator lifted his hand for tony to shake “I guess Tony Stark does have a heart” he spoke and Tony shook his hand. You felt something warm come down your face and reached to wipe the tears away.

god- what a charmer. Always knew just what to say.

“Well this was fun, but my finacee i’ve been talking about is actually here on the moment” he said. Wait what? You looked at the screen as Tony’s head turned towards the camera, sending you a wink. How the hell did he find out?! Tony grabbed a pen from his pocket and signed the paper.

“Happy will show you all out” Tony waved them off before walking out the room “If you step out the room you’ll be able to meet Mr. Stark in the hallway” Friday spoke. Oh so she snitched. Betrayal at it’s finest “Thanks Friday” you spoke before stepping out the room.

as you turned your head you come face to face with your husband to be, except he seemed nervous? “You look great- well you always look great” Tony says, making you form a smile “I’m proud of you” you say back. Tony reaches up, using this thumb to wipe away a stray tear.

“That means a lot coming from you. I can’t believe i let you slip away” his voice got darker, a frown forming. “I’m right here” you open your arms out. tony takes the opportunity to wrap his arms around your waist, pulling you flush against him. “But seriously Tony i will really leave you next time”

he nods “I know i know. You can have the whole house if i do” he says, making you chuckle. After a moment of staring into each other's eyes, silently making up for lost time. “Oh my god Tony Stark if you don’t kiss me right now-” you didn’t even need to finish before his lips were on yours.

the kiss was desperate and starved for a deeper feeling. Who knew one person could miss another so much? After this, you speculated you’d be stuck to his side like glue for a couple weeks before he say something stupid to piss you off.

Tony’s hands traveled lower and lower until they gripped the back of your thighs, causing a familiar feeling to bloom within you. He pulls away from your mouth and his lips attach to your neck, leaving hot open mouthed kisses. Zero to one hundred real quick.

“Tony” you breathed out. You could feel the smirk against the skin of your neck. Horny bastard “Tony seriously” you say, a laugh bubbling in your throat. He pulls away and looks at you ‘I’m trying to seduce you. Why are you interrupting?”

you shake your head and hook your arms around his neck “I love you, you idiot” you say, trying to catch your breath. A ego filling grin decorated his face as he pecked your lips “I love you too. Now let me get back to work” he says and goes back to kissing your neck and his hands worked off your belt.

yeah- you were in love

☼-☪-☼

Click here to join my Taglist! @sonbelleame @hel-viti @loudbluepancake @vmame

☼-☪-☼

Kody: Eh this kinda sucks. requests are open and my taglist. Anyways, peace

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squeeneyart · 3 years

Text

Breathe in the Salt - Chapter 23

AO3

Beta reader as always is @thesnadger!

It's harder to say it out loud.

Jon and Martin catch up.

As the seconds ticked by and Martin failed to respond, Jon adjusted a small bag slung across his shoulder. “It’s um- I understand this might come as a shock. I hadn’t meant for my entrance to be so dramatic, but this place seems to insist on a particular atmosphere.”

Martin heard the words as they slipped past on the wind, the skin drawing his full attention. It wasn’t like his mother’s, dusty and worn and so very old. No, this seemed to shine in the rain and seawater, but his chest constricted at the sight of it.

Despite Jon’s efforts to conceal it, a shiver ran through his shoulders.

“Right, sorry,” Martin croaked out, then coughed until his throat behaved itself. He found his hand still gripping the door knob and gave it a twist. “Sorry. Yeah, come on in.”

Jon’s stiff shoulders dropped, and with some eagerness he walked up the stairs to escape the rain. “Sor- Thank you. It’s not the best night to be out dressed like this.”

He wasn’t wrong. Warm light poured out from the doorway onto the front porch, illuminating Jon in his soaked-through fleece jumper and jeans, a far cry from the waterproof seal coat in his arms. It was no wonder that Jon was quick to enter the house and leave the damp, cold night behind. With one last look outward, Martin dipped inside and shut the door behind him.

Jon seemed uncertain where to go next and stood next to the coat hooks, leaning from one foot to the other.

“Do you want to...um, put it down? You can hang it up in the shower if it’s still wet,” Martin said, placing his own coat on a hook as casually as he could manage. “I don’t know if hooks would be, um, good for it?”

With a nervous glance downwards, Jon nodded and slipped his shoes off. “Right. That makes sense. I guess it is dripping everywhere.” Yet he continued to stand on the front rug.

Ah, right. “If you don’t want to lose sight of it, that’s-”

“It’s not- I’ll go hang it up now. Is it down the-”

“Second door on the right.”

“Right.” And Jon stalked down the hall into the toilet and closed the door, leaving Martin by the front entrance.

Martin wasn’t going to scream and freak Jon out right off the bat. Not that Jon worked too hard to give him the same courtesy.

Jon was a-

Shit. Martin pressed a shoulder against the wall and forced himself to breathe. It was fine. It made sense, right? Jon’s interest in selkies was bound to come from somewhere. He was knowledgeable in a way that would’ve required access to a selkie directly, and finding one couldn’t have been easy.

There was a twisting in his upper chest, but he heard the door down the hall open and straightened himself out. Jon came out in a plain t-shirt and different trousers, evidently leaving his other clothes to dry.

He rubbed his upper arms. “An explanation is probably necessary.”

Martin took a good look at him, all skinny limbs and uncertain glances. Bags much deeper than before dragged down under his eyes and without the extra layers hiding him away it was even harder for Jon to hide how much he was shivering.

“You-” Martin pushed up his glasses and rubbed his eyes. There was no helping it. He walked to the living room and motioned for Jon to follow. “I’ll make some tea.”

In spite of himself, Martin found it in him to fuss. He ushered Jon onto the couch and pulled the old blanket down from where it lay over the top just so it fell behind Jon, resisting the urge to pull it snug. At first Jon lifted a hand to wave him off, but as he sank further into the seat he let out a weary sigh and leaned forward onto his knees.

“Thanks.”

“Mhm. Be right back.”

Martin strode toward the kitchen in a way that he hoped didn’t look like bolting and escaped Jon’s line of sight.

A kettle. There was a kettle on the countertop. It was… technically not washed, not for a few days. Good. That gave him some time. He got to work, scrubbing at it much longer than necessary to settle his thoughts. As if there would ever be enough time for that.

So. Jon was on his couch after revealing himself to be one of the sea folk, looking cold and tired and very uncomfortable with the circumstances. That was all he had to work with, that and the cheap tea bags he tossed onto the countertop.

He’d gotten groceries for two. That would be the polite thing, to offer food.

If Jon intended to stay for more than an evening. This might be one rest stop on the path to elsewhere, land or sea. He certainly wasn’t packed for an overnight stay with that tiny bag he’d apparently managed to fit with him inside his coat, a train of thought Martin had no desire to follow. Maybe he’d even eaten… on the way? Hm, no, that wasn’t a great place, either. Whatever, he might not be looking for much more than a place to sit a while.

And then the tea was ready and poured out into two mugs, one with a pastoral scene of some sheep and the other a faded logo of a long-gone tackle shop. He’d run out of time.

The two mugs lent warmth to his hands as he walked back to the living room, catching himself before he tripped on his own feet. On the other side of the room, Jon had chosen to bundle himself up at one end of the couch, legs and all tucked into the blanket. It was all Martin could do to offer him the sheep mug without making eye contact and pray that the lamp light was too dim to reveal the red across his face.

Thankfully Jon didn’t seem to notice Martin’s awkward demeanor as he slipped his hands from under the blanket to curl his fingers around the mug. “Thank you, again. I’m sure you have questions.”

He would, wouldn’t he? He had several a moment ago, but unfortunately with all the heat emanating from his ears it seemed every question had risen right out of his head. Instead Martin sat on the other end of the couch. “You’d know better about where to start.”

From under the blanket Jon squared his shoulders. “Right. I don’t think there’s much to explain on this first point. I’m a selkie, or sea folk as you once said. I hope it explains the intensity of my… concern, regarding your mother.”

Martin squirmed a little. Jon's anger at the possibility of Martin holding one hostage took on a much more personal bent in hindsight. It must’ve been like a horror movie to find the skin there. “Yeah, I got that part.”

“As for my showing up here today, I…” Struggling somewhat with words, Jon took a sip of tea and gave a small noise of approval. “Okay, from the beginning. The day I’d finally finished with all of the extra work piled onto me, I’d settled on digging further into Elias’ connection with the Lukases. Possible overlap in goals, reasons for why the three of us were sent to this town, etcetera.”

He continued. “There wasn’t much. If I had to guess, it’s all largely in financial records that I have no access to, but I’d hoped that other strange happenings connected to the Lukases would explain something.”

“But they didn’t,” Martin said.

Sighing, Jon said, “No. So I changed direction and focused on Elias’ goals. If it wasn’t the lighthouse he wanted us to look at, then there were two options: either he just sent us out there to look at nothing, or he thought we would find something else of interest. Or that I might find something I’d been looking for.”

Martin’s heart could’ve stopped. “You don’t think-”

“He of course knew of my research into selkies. It’s the main reason I was eager for this position, all the resources he offered. I kept my more… personal motivation quiet, of course, stuck to how it was ‘underrepresented in our field’, which is entirely true and I could- anyway, I thought I was careful.” Quickly, he turned toward Martin as if he’d realized something. “And I was, with regards to you and your mother. I promise I never said anything about what I found. That secret isn’t going anywhere.” He rested the mug in his lap, tapping his fingertips on the white ceramic.

“But?”

“It appears I wasn’t doing a good enough job hiding myself. He always knew.” His mouth set into a grim line. “When we first got back I thought something was off about my flat, but the workload had gotten so high and there was so much to think about that I brushed it off.”

He gripped his knee through the blanket as it bounced with agitation. “I know someone came into my flat while I was gone. I know this because the day after your incident with Simon Fairchild it happened again, and this time he was sloppy.”

A tremor had crept into Jon’s voice, just enough to be heard, though it wasn’t for the cold or for fear exactly. Anger? Irritation?

“I was sent to check on something outside the city, not far but enough that I was able to get reimbursement for a night’s stay. It wasn’t the first time I’d been sent off without warning, obviously-” Jon motioned in the general direction of the town. “-but something was wrong. I could feel it, just like I could feel that someone had been in my flat.” At this point Jon stopped and leaned over to rub at his forehead, his shoulders rising and falling with long, deep breaths.

“Jon?” Martin said. He lifted his hand and then placed it on the back of the couch.

The tired man shook his head, “I’m fine. Just let me finish.”

“So I went back late that night. Didn’t tell anyone, didn’t cancel my hotel. And when I entered my flat, what did I see but a figure in the dark rifling through my things. A familiar one at that.” A sardonic edge snuck into his voice. “Never expected Elias to be the type to get his hands dirty in a work sense, let alone an illegal one.”

“There was a struggle. I rushed at him without thinking, and when pressed he eventually admitted to knowing what I was. I knew what he was looking for then, didn’t really need to ask, and so I… ran.”

Martin’s hand twitched, but he kept it in place. “That sounds… awful. I’m sorry.”

With a shaky inhale, Jon said, “I-I ended up staying with an old friend of mine for a few days, outside of town. When I initially got the job she’d agreed to keep my, um… my skin, while I was in the city. So Elias was never going to find it by looting around my things, on either attempt.” He smiled, eyes empty and humorless. “Paranoia pays off sometimes.”

“Sounds like you have a good friend, then,” Martin said, looking down at his barely-touched tea. “Why’d you leave?”

“Because three people and a cat take up a lot of space in a one-bedroom?” Jon replied with a small but genuine laugh. “My friend, Georgie, she lives with her girlfriend. Her girlfriend and I don’t get on at the best of times, and cohabitation while I’m a terrified mess is not the best of times. The cat didn’t seem to mind, though.”

“I figured the next safest place would be in the water, while traveling at least. I couldn’t take much with me, but I wouldn’t need much either. My main goal was to just stay hidden as best as I could.” He looked back at Martin sheepishly. “Which I hope is a good enough reason for my number being unavailable.”

Martin nearly dropped his tea. “What?”

“What?” Jon frowned, brows knit together in confusion. “Oh. Um, yes, I deactivated my account. Maybe a bit more precaution than necessary, but at that point I was too nervous to take any risks. Tossed my mobile as well.”

A horrid wave of guilt hit Martin right in the stomach. The number wasn’t reachable, which he’d have known if he’d just called. Stupid, of course Jon had a reason for not calling. How much more of an ass could he be, assuming things when Jon had his own worries to deal with? Not everything had to be about himself and his problems.

“Makes sense,” he said, hiding his own unhappy mouth behind the mug.

“Anyway, I left the land for… an amount of time. It was hard to keep track. And it’s still the wilderness, so it wasn’t safe. Eventually I decided being stuck surrounded by wild animals wasn’t going to help me and figured this was the best place to go next.” He leaned back. “I couldn’t exactly see Tim or Sasha for updates, though they know to pretend to trust Elias for now, thanks to Georgie. Once I see them in-person, it’ll be safer to explain why I’d disappeared on them.”

And in the meantime pretend that Jon was off to the side, too busy to bother with a group text. He might as well have been asleep the whole time with how obvious it all was. And there he’d been writing Jon off without evidence instead of feeling concern. Horrid.

Jon took a deep breath. Some of the tension slipped away from his forehead, smoothing the creases into faint lines.

“Had a harder time than expected finding this place considering the lighthouse looming over everything. I think I got turned around after losing sight of the coast and the fog certainly didn’t help. But things cleared up enough, and now I’m here.”

Martin withdrew his arm from atop the couch and leaned away into the arm rest. “And now you’re here.”

There in the present, they sat on their respective sides of the couch. Jon settled further back into the cushion, pressing both hands to his mug of tea and enjoying the warmth it brought to his skinny fingers.

The man needed to sleep. It was clear in his struggling eyes, his voice, his shoulders obscured by the blanket’s folds. How long had he been at it, swimming mile after mile until he found his way here? How much further was he planning to go?

“Are you okay?”

Martin started, ripping his eyes from Jon’s face. “Fine, yeah. Just, just taking it all in I guess.”

Jon rubbed the back of his neck. “I know it’s a lot. If you wouldn’t mind, though, I wanted to ask if anything else happened here since I left.”

Martin replied, “Not much. I delivered the letter for Simon a few weeks ago. Peter has been spotty ever since and has been on a boating trip for a few days.”

“The only way to avoid Fairchild, maybe. Until he goes out on his own yacht. Or flies there.”

Martin snorted and took another sip of tea.

“And nothing else has changed?”

In the grand scheme of things? “No. Not really.”

“Good. I’d worried about getting here- well-”

“Too late?” Martin said with a rougher edge than he’d intended, and he saw Jon flich. Quickly, he continued, “I’m fine. If anything you didn’t have to deal with weeks full of nothing like Tim and Sasha.”

It was Jon’s turn to snort. “That would’ve been preferable, I think. Being so out of the loop, not knowing what to expect when I managed to get back. It wasn’t pleasant.”

“So, what now?”

Jon chewed on the inside of his cheek. “I’m not entirely sure. There isn’t anywhere else for me to go now. But since you asked, there was something I’d been considering.”

Twisting in place, he faced Martin directly with a nervous expression. “Truth be told, I don’t know anyone else like me, not personally. The sea might as well be the woods or the mountains for all I know on how to navigate them. If anyone was going to be able to help me with my particular situation, I figured it would be-”

“My mum.” The words came out throttled.

The room shifted, the sides of his vision blurred until all he could see was the dead television. If he stared at that point long enough, he could almost see the burnt-in images of something he’d left on pause for too long.

From beside him, he heard the rustling of the blanket.

“I- yes, th-though if that’s too much trouble I understand. I would never want to make you or your mother’s lives harder by getting her involved with me. I know I’m a liability to her safety just coming here, but I’d at least wish to speak with her, ask if there’s anywhere or anyone she knows that could help if she herself is unwilling. She’s already asleep I assume, so I could wait until tomorrow-”

“She’s gone.”

His words cut through the air with a swiftness, the quiet settling in so deeply that he could almost hear tv static as his mind tried to fill the gap. With nothing to be heard and his vision so caught by the television, Jon might as well have vanished into thin air.

But he hadn’t. With something between wariness and disbelief, Jon muttered, “...Gone.”

“Four days ago.” Martin blinked away the tunnel, looking down at his own hands. “Took her skin and nothing else.”

“That’s… Did she say when she might come back?”

Without answering, Martin stood up and walked to the kitchen. When faced with Jon’s protestations he placed a hand up, signalling for the man to wait, and from the kitchen table plucked the unmoved note. Then, wordlessly, he handed it over to Jon and sat on his own end of the couch.

The note was short enough. “...That’s it?”

“Yeah. Sorry I can’t be of more help.”

“That’s- you don’t need to apologize to me. I imagine it’s been difficult.” A pause as Jon set the note on the side table, and then, “You did the right thing.”

Something pushed upwards in Martin’s throat, something bitter and harsh and awful, but he clenched his teeth and kept his tone even. “It’s for the best.”

“If there’s any… If you have any questions, I’ll do what I can to answer them.” As Jon spoke he was plainly starting to regret it. “But I suppose you would know her better.”

Martin frowned and said nothing.

“Right… right. Family business.” Jon drained the rest of his mug and then dragged his fingers down one cheek. “If you’re all right with it, I’d like to spend the night here and figure things out tomorrow, when I’m feeling more myself. I’ve sorely missed sleeping somewhere dry and horizontal.”

“You really slept that way with your face sticking out?” The image of a little seal head popping up out of the water fast asleep came to mind, a welcome distraction. He let himself smile a little and leaned a cheek into his knuckles. “You seem a bit drift-y, yeah.”

“I hope that’s not meant to be a pun. And sleeping in the water is difficult,” Jon replied, deadpan. “So I have permission to co-opt your couch?”

“Knock yourself out. I need to get to bed, anyway.” He pushed himself back up off the couch and grabbed both mugs. As he walked back to the kitchen, he looked back at Jon. “... She left her medication here. Does that mean anything?”

Jon shook his head. “She’ll be fine. She won’t need them unless she returns to a human form, according to my own, er, experimentation.”

Martin nodded and waved goodnight with one of his full hands, making his way back into the kitchen one final time to place the mugs in the sink. Every motion reminded him that he too was tired, so tired, so they would be washed another time along with the plate of whatever it was he’d made for himself. Had he offered Jon something to eat? No, but the man was capable of asking for things.

One thing had been helpful. He looked at the half-empty pill bottles that sat undisturbed on the counter and with one swift motion tossed them into the bin.

#tma #the magnus archives #breathe in the salt #martin blackwood #jonathan sims #sasha james #timothy stoker #peter lukas #jonmartin

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raviotherabbit · 3 years

Text

royal pain in the ass - chapter 7

Chapter 7: Era of Force Princess Zelda heads to the forge.

[first] - [previous] - [next] read it on ao3!

△ ▲△

“Is the peppermint tea alright?” Zelda asked her companion sitting across from her on the picnic blanket. “I thought we’d try something a bit more herbal this time.”

“It’s lovely, thank you,” Hyrule smiled at her past his cup. “In fact, I’m tempted to start growing peppermint myself.”

Ever since she found out the Hero of Hyrule liked tea, Zelda had begun setting aside certain flavors for him to taste whenever he visited. Though he was older than the two of them, he reminded her a bit of Link just a year or so ago. A bit brash, always buzzing back and forth… they both needed to be reminded when to relax.

“I’m glad to hear it,” Zelda responded. She sips at her own tea, deeply sighing as its warmth settles in her stomach.

What a beautiful day…

“Excuse me, Princess Zelda?”

Looking up from her drink, Zelda was a bit surprised to see the Hero of Warriors. He stood above the two picnickers, ignoring how Hyrule’s gaze narrowed on him.

“Why, hello hero!” Zelda happily lifted her teapot to show to the captain. “Would you like to join us? Today’s choice is peppermint.”

“Maybe some other time,” Warriors waved the pot away. “I had some questions about the castle’s security.”

Subtly, Zelda met eyes with Hyrule. His lips were pressed together tightly, and his grip on his teacup seemed almost desperate. But the moment he saw her, she swore he forced himself to act natural.

“Go ahead, Princess,” he hesitantly nodded. He brushed himself off before he started to head towards the castle gate. “I need to stock up on potions in town, anyway. We can talk more later.”

“If you’re sure,” Zelda stood, taking Warriors’ nervous hand into her own. “Come with me, brave knight.”

Wordlessly, Warriors allowed himself to be guided into the castle. Zelda looked back towards the gate one last time. Despite his words, Hyrule was still there, leaning against the stone.

Then the door closed.

One step at a time, Zelda walked Warriors through the castle’s defenses. The armory, the barracks, even the throne room. But wherever they went, it seemed the hero grew even more nervous. He eyed the knights with suspicion as they passed by, and every time Zelda looked at him, he was even more fidgety than before.

But there was no reason to suspect Warriors of any ill intent. He’d been nice on all of the Links’ previous visits. Better than nice, really. Always courteous, opening doors ahead of her, even joining in with ribbing Four a bit. So if he was a bit nervous about her safety, Zelda would do anything to assuage those fears.

“You’re kind for your concern,” Zelda told Warriors, leading him into one of the empty banquet halls. “But we’re safe here. With Vaati sealed, there’s no longer any threat to Hyrule.”

“What about threats from within Hyrule?” Warriors asked the second they were alone.

Zelda couldn’t but gasp at the accusation. “Are you speaking of traitors?”

“Soldiers can be… easily manipulated,” Warriors explained warily. “It’s happened before, hasn’t it?”

“Yes, we… we did have an issue with mind control,” Zelda admitted with a frown. “But again, Vaati is gone for good. None of our soldiers will harm us.”

“What if… what if it wasn’t just any soldier?” There was a paranoid gleam to his eyes. “What if it was someone you know?”

Warriors was taller than Zelda, that was true. But the wrath of a princess is not feared just for her height. Zelda’s hands tightened into fists, and Warriors almost seemed to cower from her rage. “Just what are you suggesting, hero?”

His shock wore off, and Warriors righted himself again with the rigid composure of a knight. “If Four turned his blade against you, what would you do?”

“Stop!” Zelda commanded, silencing him with a single pointed finger. “Don’t speak of my four that way. He… none of them would ever do that!”

“But what if he did?!” Warriors suddenly grabbed onto her arm with a vice-like grip. “Can you honestly say that you would fight against him?!”

Zelda yanked against his hand. “Let go! Let go of me!”

“Stop it!”

There, silhouetted by the hallway’s light, was Hyrule. He rushed past the doorway, shoving Warriors away from the princess.

“Wars, you need to control yourself!” Hyrule shouted. “What’s wrong with you?! Why are you all acting like this!?!”

Warriors blinked is confusion, as if waking up from a dream. He spotted Zelda, helplessly clutching to her aching arm behind Hyrule.

“I didn’t mean…” he started, but his words drifted away.

“Just go,” Hyrule sighed as he dropped his head into his hands.

Stunned into silence, Warriors left before Zelda could stop him, scattering as quickly as he could and leaving the door open.

“I’m so sorry, Princess,” Hyrule turned to her. “I knew he was acting off, but I didn’t think… Anyway, are you alright?”

“I’m fine,” she said breathlessly. The light spilling in from the door only twisted her stomach further. “I’m fine.”

△ ▲△

With her head held high and her steps confident, Princess Zelda Lucille Hyrule passes through the town gates.

“Princess!” one of the guards shouts after her. “It’s dangerous to go alone! Let us come with you!”

“I’m just going to visit Smith!” Zelda calls back, keeping up her quick pace. “I’ll be back before you know it!”

The soldier says something, probably about her father or the minister. But to be honest, Zelda couldn’t care less. A little time out of the city could never hurt, after all, and someone has to check in on the old man.

Once she’s out of hearing range of the guards, Zelda takes in a deep breath. The morning air is still fresh, a bit of a chill hanging onto it. It’s the perfect day to spend out in the world, not cooped up in the castle.

The walk to Link and Smith’s house is rather short. Zelda lightly knocks on the door, pushing it open as she does so.

“Smith? Are you home?”

But when she peeks inside, Zelda’s surprised to find she’s not Smith’s only visitor today. There are five girls seated around the room, Smith delicately balancing glasses of water as he delivers them to his guests.

“Princess!” Smith grins when he sees her at the door. All eyes turn towards Zelda, embarrassingly enough. “Come in! You’re right on time.”

“Uh, who are all these people?” Zelda asks, slowly stepping into the humble home.

“Friends of Link! They just stopped by asking about him, so I thought I’d offer the poor things some hospitality,” Smith moves behind her, guiding her to one of the chairs by her shoulders. “How’s your arm feeling, by the way?”

“I’m fine, not even sore anymore!” Zelda waves her arm up and down to demonstrate. She eyes the two ladies across from her, one in a simple pink dress and the other in a long black cloak. “So, you all know Link.”

“Well, we know the Links!” one of the girls sitting against the wall, wearing bright blue, amends, putting emphasis on the ‘s’.

“Plural,” her short friend with the bandana clarifies.

“And you,” the cloaked one leans forward, folding her hands on the table. “You’re Princess Zelda.”

“Yes, I am,” Zelda’s eyes narrow at the strangers around her. This has got to be the most suspicious way she’s ever been approached by potential crooks, that’s for sure.

“Well then,” the tallest one, wearing light pink, pushes herself up from the floor. “Welcome to the club.”

△ ▲△

Of course, once they explain the situation to Dot, she sweetens right up. Her suspicious glares and crossed arms melt away, and by the time they’ve stayed their welcome at Smith’s home, she’s walking in tandem with Tetra along that path back to town, all while Flora takes notes in her journal.

“So, you and your Link have known each other for quite a while,” Flora remarks as Dot finishes a story about the time Four lost his first tooth. He’d cried so hard that day, the whole town was complaining. But in hindsight, it’s incredibly funny.

“We’ve been friends since we were kids,” Dot explains, a fond smile on her face. “His grandfather is friends with my father, and his dad is one of the kingdom’s best knight’s. We’ve always known each other.”

“That must be nice,” Flora comments, speaking as she writes. “I didn’t meet Wild until we were twelve, and it was a bit of a rough start.”

“Yeah, well, Wind I met two years ago,” Tetra chimes in. “But unlike Four, I don’t think he grew up out of his crybaby phase.” She snickers to herself. “Still my best friend, though.”

“Oh, same here,” Flora twirls her pen.

Dot giggles. “Ditto.”

“When was the last time you saw them?” Dusk suddenly asks from the back of the group.

When Dot turns back, Dusk has stopped in her tracks. There’s something about the way she looks at her, desperation mixed with something else. Regret? Guilt?

“It’s been about two months,” Dot reveals. She looks to the one of them standing next to Dusk, Artemis, concern clear on her face. “Your hero is Warriors, right?”

Artemis startles, perhaps a bit shocked by the shift of conversation. “Y-yes,” she confirms.

“Well, he was-” Dot suddenly glances down, fidgeting with her hands. “He- Did you see him after me? Because he seemed very upset, so I was wondering if-”

“Woah, hold on,” Artemis interrupts. “He was upset?”

“Paranoid, more like,” she amends. “He wanted to know about the castle’s security, he was convinced that… that Four would turn on me.”

Artemis gasps, covering her mouth with a hand. “His paranoia came back?”

Flora gently closes her book, moving to place a hand on her fellow queen’s shoulder. “Artemis, are you alright?”

But before Artemis can respond, someone else speaks.

“Sky was also acting strange, when I saw him,” Tetra says.

Suddenly, all of the group’s attention is focused squarely on the pirate, particularly Sun, whose eyes are wide.

“What?” Sun questions. “Something’s wrong with my Link?”

Tetra snaps suddenly. “Oh, he’s yours! I’m not the best at keeping track of all these guys.”

“Tetra, now isn’t the time,” Flora reminds her.

“Right, right,” Tetra leans back on her left foot. “Well, I found him all alone, and he asked me about the flooding… About who died when it happened.” She sighs. “Called it the legacy he’d left the world, shamed the faith the people had in the Goddesses.”

“He… what?” Sun brings a hand to her forehead. “He said that?”

“Twilight was also angry, when I last saw him,” Dusk reveals abruptly. “He… he snapped at me, said that protecting Hyrule had always fallen to him when I should have… But we-we’ve talked about it before, I don’t know why he…”

A deafening silence hangs over all of them. After so long, so much work to get close to normal again, Warriors was somehow convinced once again that there was a traitor around every corner. Sky, always so brave, so dedicated, now believed that faith in the Goddesses could only bring sorrow. And Twilight, the loyal farmer, who’d always listened to his friends, used words spoken in confidence against Dusk.

What had happened to their boys?

△ ▲△

After so long on the road, being welcomed to Hyrule Castle feels like a dream. Nice soft beds, clean clothes, and the first bath Flora’s had in a week at this point. The grime of seawater and city filth washed away like nothing. Afterwards, she sat on her bed in one of the castle’s guest rooms. It’s much smaller than she expected, in fact, she and Artemis would be sharing a room. It reminds her a bit of their first night together, back in the Era of the Sky.

Idly, Flora doodles in her journal. Silent Princesses have always been her favorite, and their curled leaves and five petals are practically engrained in her mind with how much she draws them. One hundred years ago, whenever she was stressed, it was always these small sketches that helped calm her.

Flora’s stomach twists, the deep dread from before their arrival to the castle returning. So far, none of them had mentioned Wild, but if something had happened to her dear hero again…

So she writes it in her journal. Everything she knows, from what Dusk, Tetra, and Dot have shared. She may not know what’s wrong, but for Hylia’s sake, she’s a researcher. If anyone’s equipped for putting mysteries together, it’s her.

Luckily, just as she finishes her writing, the door creaks open. Artemis steps in, her hair damp from her own bath. She’s wearing a robe the castle staff so nicely provided.

“Artemis,” Flora smiles. “Thank goodness you’re here. I’m going to figure this out.”

“Oh, are you?” Artemis quips, though she’s missing some of her spark.

“I’ve just finished writing my own account of the last time I saw the Links,” she taps her journal. “And we know that you saw them next. So-” she pats the spot on the bed next to her. “Tell me everything that happened. Leave out no details.”

Artemis’s smile is weak, maybe even a bit forced. But she sits down by Flora’s side anyway.

“Alright,” she says. “Their portal appeared in the courtyard, early in the morning…”

△ ▲△

By dinnertime, Flora has managed to collect a statement from everyone she has available.

Flora (me) -Last saw the Links 3 months ago. -The Links spent an afternoon at Hyrule Castle. -Four and Legend were allowed to investigate the library, but to be careful. -Wild and Wind took a trip into town. -Twilight was concerned Wild would get into trouble, but I told him they’d be fine. I got some drinks for us, and I asked him about his time period (refer to prior notes). Same questions were asked of Warriors later. -I’m not sure where Time, Sky, and Hyrule were. -Everyone left before the evening. Wild said goodbye, promised to let me know as soon as he returned.

Artemis (Era of Warriors) -Last saw the Links 2.5 months ago. -Heroes went through a portal right into the castle courtyard. Artemis let them know they were welcome to explore Hyrule Castle and the town. -Wild wandered off with Sky and Legend, though Artemis noted he was leading that pack. -Warriors brought Wind to visit some of his fellow soldiers he hadn’t seen in a while. -Time came to her with concerns about group morale, so she suggested spending time with some of their loved ones (including the Zeldas! This bodes well for future statements). -They left the next morning. Other than Time, nothing seemed off. -Artemis wants it known that their army has had troubles with traitors in the past. This caused much paranoia for Warriors for quite some time, but she was sure he’d worked past it by the time he began travelling with the heroes.

Sun (Era of the Skies) -Last saw the Links a little more than 2 months ago. -Arrived at the Sealed Temple late in the day. Sun and others helped make them feel comfortable (classic Skyloft hospitality), they let most of them sleep in the temple that night. Sky slept in Sun’s tent. -They were all very tired from traveling, so she didn’t see a lot of them. -Sun found Legend staring up at the Goddess Statue. He was wondering what the point was of defeating evil if it always rose again. Sun told him a story about the First Hero (reminder: ask for THAT later), which seemed to calm his nerves. (Is this strange for him?)

Dusk (Era of Twilight) -Last saw the Links less than 2 months ago. -Four told her at some point before arriving, Legend said something rude and Twilight had to tackle Wild to stop him from pouncing on his fellow hero. -At the castle, Four made a comment about the armaments available to the guards. Something about this made Twilight explode, saying how they couldn’t even protect the castle. He turned on Dusk, asking why she couldn’t have stopped the Twili invasion on her own. She tried to reason with him, but he stormed off. -Dusk took Four to the armory to try and calm him down. He noted that all of them seemed to be tense. -The next day, Time went to Ordon Village (Twilight’s hometown) to look for him. The rest of the Links followed in the afternoon.

Tetra (Era of the Great Sea) -Last saw the Links 1.5 months ago. -They were staying on Outset Island (Wind’s hometown), so Tetra decided to drop anchor and spend some time with Wind. They were there for several days. -Wind was excited to see Tetra. He babbled on and on about his adventures with the heroes. She asked if he’s done any exploring, and he said he had in Wild’s time. Got very quiet. -One the second morning, she found Sky alone in the woods of the island. He asked her about the flooding that created the Great Sea and wanted to know how many lives were lost. He was dismayed by the “legacy [he] left the world”, wondering what faith brought the people.

Dot (Era of Force) -Last saw the Links about a month ago. -They were only passing through the area. Four and some of the others had stayed back at his house to talk to Smith. -Over time, Dot has made friends with Hyrule. Apparently they both like tea a lot. -While she and Hyrule were having a picnic, Warriors approached with questions about the castle’s security. Hyrule said he’d go get supplies and catch up with her later. -After Dot showed how secure the castle was, Warriors began questioning the procedures for traitors (see Artemis’s statement). He then asked what she would do if Four betrayed her. -This part, Dot has asked me not to share with Artemis: Warriors grabbed onto her arm with enough force to hurt her. The bruise lasted for quite some time. -Hyrule suddenly appeared and stopped Warriors, asking what was wrong with him. Dot thinks he implied there was something wrong with the others, too. Warriors left, seeming confused. -Four came to visit with Wind, later, to say goodbye. She didn’t mention the incident to him.

Several red flags stand out to Flora. The first being Time noticing tension amongst the group. If their issues started small and built their way up, then perhaps what he saw were the beginnings of whatever happened to him. He’s not specific, though, about where their problems were originating from, much to Flora’s dismay, but whatever happened must have been not long after they left her castle.

Sky was definitely acting strangely, but truthfully, Flora has no idea if Legend’s actions were out of character. She can only hope they’ll make it to his time soon, so she can ask his Zelda herself.

By the time they visited Dusk, though, there was clearly something wrong. Wild apparently almost physically attacked Legend at some point, which Flora can barely believe. Wild would never hurt his fellow Hylian, let alone another hero. And Twilight’s respect for his queen apparently going out the window? What was up with that?

If what Artemis says is to be believed, though, Warriors has regressed. He’s lost a lot of the progress he made towards himself after the War Across the Ages. If he’s so out of line, Flora can only imagine what’s happening to the rest of them.

Flora’s stomach grumbles loudly. Right, dinner is soon. A full stomach will definitely help her thinking, and Dot already made the rounds to let everyone know her father will be attending. Whether he knows anything or not, she has about a million questions to ask him anyway.

Closing her book, Flora carries it with her to the dining hall.

△ ▲△

The whole world, all of it, is coated in shadows. They hang from the sky like drapes, and never before has Zelda felt more alone.

“Link?” she calls out to the darkness, raising her torch just a bit higher. “Link, are you there?”

WIth her limited light, she almost runs right into a small statue. It comes up to Zelda’s hip, depicting a bird with its wings outstretched. But the top of its head is caved in, revealing a pile of kindling.

Right, it’s a torch.

Zelda lights the bird torch, which does nothing but provide a little more light. Perhaps on a whim, she decides to follow its directions, walking where its beak points.

“Link?” she shouts again. “Please, answer me!”

Again, Zelda comes upon another bird torch. And another, and another. Each time she finds one, she lights it, and she changes her path to follow its point. In the back of her mind, she remembers an old fairytale about finding your way back home.

As she travels more and more through this darkness, Zelda can see other things as well. Just on the edges of her torchlight, there are ruins. Buildings, torn apart or decayed, suffocated by the pervasive shadows. But she can’t stray from her path, not now.

Then, her light finds someone.

“Link?” Zelda asks. “Link, is that you?”

When he turns to her, Zelda is relieved. It’s Link, it really is! They can go home now, together, and-

The torch’s light gleams against the Master Sword. Blood drips from its hilt.

“Link, what did you do?” Zelda demands.

He says nothing, just takes a step closer. In fear and betrayal, Zelda steps back.

“Stop it,” Zelda says shakily. “Link, I’m warning you.”

Link still doesn’t respond. He darts towards her, raising the sword in a swift motion, and Zelda-

And Artemis wakes up in bed, gasping for air.

△ ▲△

There’s one last thing Dot wants to do before she leaves with her fellow queens and princesses. A job that’s all hers, as Princess of Hyrule, and one she wants to make sure is done before she’s away for who knows how long.

“You’ve all met my Link,” Dot explains to the group as they make their way through the woods. Her pack is already full, “And you’ve seen his sword, the Four Sword.”

“It’s a remarkable blade,” Dusk comments. “From the legends I’ve heard, it could give the Master Sword a run for its money.”

Sun humphs at that, crossing her arms and sticking her chin up.

“Not as you’ve seen it,” Dot reveals. Just then, they come across an old stone sanctuary, with pillars standing proud. Everything is covered in moss and vines, except for one item. At the center of it all is a sword, its hilt gleaming a pure white.

“The Four Sword that my Four carries is a fake,” Dot continues. “A recreation, with the power Four needed after his journey. This is the real Four Sword.”

“Oh, wow!” Flora marvels at the blade. “I can’t believe it! To see such a historical artifact up close like this…”

Dot tugs on her cloak, stopping her from running. “I’m only here to check on the seal,” she states with exasperation. “We don’t want to disturb Vaati, now, do we?”

“Oh, don’t we?”

As the Zeldas were distracted, none of them noticed the shadows behind the Four Sword twisting and gaining shape. The being behind the sword was a perfect facsimile of Link, but with pure red eyes and darkness all over his body.

“Shadow?” Dot can’t help herself but reach out. “Is that-?”

Tetra suddenly grabs onto her shoulder, pulling her back. “Whoever you think that is, Princess, you’re mistaken. He’s no friend.”

Of course, Tetra’s right. Shadow never had such malice in his eyes, and he would certainly never hover over Vaati’s seal like that.

“I’m hurt, Princess,” Dark Link fakes a pout. “I’ve always been a friend to her grace.”

He turns to Sun, a wicked grin suddenly on his face.

“Isn’t that right, Hylia?”

All eyes turn to Sun. The progenitor of their bloodline, the founder of their kingdom. The first Queen of Hyrule.

The… Goddess Hylia?

Flora is finally the first one to speak. “What?”

#linked universe #lu dot #lu flora #lu artemis #lu dusk #lu sun #lu tetra #rpita #fanfic #rav's writing

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danasabar · 2 years

Text

task two: panic nightmare cw: needles, general distress, giant disembodied hands

it was just as she had remembered it from last time, when her mother scolded her for being far too young to be out so late. in hindsight, dana would come to understand that her mother knew far more about what she got up to once her prized wedges jumped off from the window frame. at the time, dana figured lila had been ratting her out, as she often did but now dana realized it must have been the way she defended panic against criticism.

it's too dangerous good, that's how heroes are born. it's hard good, that's where strength comes in. it's sick to want to watch that and whose sicker than this county? hell, than this country? it's illegal well, they got dana with that one but for all the reasons above, the legality seemed like just another thing that had to catch up with the times.

just as she remembered, the crowd was gathered, the night was dark and the energy in the air was electric as they all just waited for the games to start. all her life a lone wolf, but suddenly dana was one of many, and they were all there to take part in a tradition that wasn't stuffy and either for children or adults, a game that was for the youth.

all falls quiet for a moment, and the anticipation has dana's cheeks aching from the wide smile. a voice booms through speakers, and dana finds herself searching to identify it, the sheriff? that's impossible. bob? it's bob. but why? hello lockhorn! welcome to the worst night of your life! dana scoffs because they already know it will be the opposite, a highlight to think about until the next panic. and tonight, we've got a fucking lockhorn worthy twist for ya...because tonight, we bring new meaning to spectator sport! just then, a huge spotlight falls on dana, but despite being dressed like their teenage self, they find it's as they are now, the occasional gray curl surfacing and all. they look around to the crowd surrounding them, but find that everyone has moved out of the spotlights glare. "um, i don't think this is right.." dana starts, keeping to their matter of fact tone but the sweat on their forehead betrays them. it's too late, a large white hand disembodied hand is moving towards them, curling their index fingers toward it's palm. as fast as dana tries to run from it, the faster it comes after them and once it's caught up, there's nothing dana can do try to punch it from where they're stuck, inside the palm. it's dark and the sound is muffled but dana can hear the cheers and wonders, if it's because it's her, did they not smile enough or was it too much? did they misuse some slang?

the hand drops dana and for a while they're falling and everything seems so slow, but against their better judgment, dana opens their eyes to the bottom, where the ends of hundreds of needles, all gather at the bottom of a pit, their sharp edges catching the light and giving an ominous glare. "no, no no, i hate needles, no!" dana yells at the hand above, the crowd around, the needles below, anyone and anything but there's no reaction. dana moves into the fetal position, assuming this will help cushion the fall but at the last second and for reasons they don't understand, they open up their body, unfold it and extend as if it's a starfish.

the first thing they feel is the rush of wind around them when they make contact that stops their fall, the second thing they feel is the stabbing of pointed needles all around them. when they look down to examine their body, it's hard to see from the blood and the chemicals in the needles, some of them shades of neon, others dark and murky, and some with flecks of things in them that dana can only begin to imagine with distress. as dana reaches up, trying to crawl out, it only seemed to move their limbs into contact with other needles. after a few attempts to climb out, dana feels themself sinking further and further into the needle pile, until it's consumed them completely.

dana awakes with a yell that sends her birds into a frenzy. she walks up to each cage and apologizes. "i am so sorry, my loves, i had a nightmare i was a weak little bitch." what a sigh of relief to be had that they aren't that person, that she could never be that weak to give up after a few tries...right?

#dphq:task

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marjansmarwani · 3 years

Text

just say you're hurt, we'll face the worst

Carlos & Owen || Tarlos || 2.9k || ao3

This is a birthday fic for actual ray of sunshine Paige - @sunshinestrand

You’re a lovely human and you deserve the world, but I hope you’ll take this instead. I hope your day is as wonderful as you are my dear 💕

Additional shoutout and thanks to both @officerrxyes and @terramous who helped me fix this when I was stuck for quite a while. I would be lost (and still staring at this fic) without you both!

One last note: if this seems familiar that’s because it was inspired by one of the parts from my tarlos week fic that’s when I knew - I just took one of the vignettes, expanded it, and told it from Carlos’s perspective.

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

In hindsight, maybe he should have called first.

Standing on the front step was probably the wrong time for that realization but here he was: on the front step of the Stand house facing the confused expression of his boyfriend’s father.

“Carlos,” Owen said in surprise as he opened the door, “TK’s not here right now.”

“I know, he had a shift.”

Owen raised an eyebrow at that, but didn’t push. They stood in silence for a few more moments before Carlos elaborated, “I’m here for you, actually.”

This got a look of surprise from the older man, “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, everything is fine. I just...wanted to know if you wanted a ride to chemo today?”

It came out rushed and Carlos couldn’t blame Owen for his bewildered look. He rushed on with his explanation: “I know TK has been taking you and he had to work today but I’m off so I figured I would take you—if you wanted.”

“Did TK ask you to do this? Because that’s very sweet of you both, but you don’t need to waste your day off on me, I’ll be fine on my own. Which is exactly what I told my son but he seems to have selective hearing on the matter.”

Carlos shook his head, “No, he didn’t ask me. But I could tell he was worried about it so I figured it would make him feel better if he knew you hadn’t been there alone.”

Owen studied him for a few moments before shrugging, “I’m not opposed to the company, as long as you are sure about wasting your limited free time with an old man.”

Carlos held up his keys, “Great, I’ll drive.”

---------

The ride there was silent. Carlos went to open his mouth a few times, to try and start some sort of conversation, but each time his mind went blank. He was fairly certain Owen was having a similar problem, if the glances he kept shooting Carlos were any indication.

He wasn’t entirely sure why he felt so nervous about this — it wasn’t as if he hadn’t spent time with the Captain before. Nights spent with TK had taught him that both he and Owen were early risers, and sharing a cup of coffee in the morning hours had become a routine for them. Those were largely silent moments though; each man taking the time to savor the coffee and the quiet of the start of the day. In all honesty, Carlos wasn’t sure what to talk to the other man about. As far as he knew they only had one common interest: TK.

Of course, there was a lot to talk about when it came to TK Strand. Carlos could easily rave about him for hours. But while talking about how easily he could drown himself in TK’s eyes, never once even thinking about coming up for air with Michelle was one thing, doing it with TK’s father was something else entirely.

Just the thought of TK’s eyes and the things they made him want to do to him pulled him in and before he knew it he was interrupted from his daydreaming by a voice from his passenger seat: “So…” Owen started, “how are things with TK?”

Carlos cleared his throat awkwardly, prying himself back to reality and turning his face so Owen couldn’t see the blush creeping up his cheek. The man did not need to know the thoughts he had just been having about his son. He kept his tone decidedly nonchalant as he answered with a simple. “Good, things are going good.”

And they were back to square one.

---------

Thankfully, the drive to the treatment center was not a long one.

They parked and Carlos hovered anxiously off to the side as Owen got signed in and followed his lead to the treatment room. He took in the surroundings with interest—he had never seen the inside of a chemo treatment center (thankfully). He couldn’t say it looked anything like what he had pictured. But then again, he wasn’t sure exactly what it was he had expected.

He watched quietly as Owen was set up with the IV and smiled at the nurse as she passed by. Then it was just the two of them and they looked at each other with uncertainty.

“So,” Owen began.

“So.” Carlos agreed. He glanced around the room awkwardly before his gaze settled on the IV in Owen’s arm.

“Does it hurt?” he couldn’t help but ask.

Owen shrugged, “it doesn’t feel great, but it’s really after that you feel it.”

Carlos nodded but Owen kept talking, “Why don’t you tell me more about yourself? I really don’t know all that much about you, Carlos.”

“Oh,” Carlos responded, surprised, “are you sure that’s what you want to talk about?”

Owen shrugged, “Sure. I’d like to know more about the person my son is so smitten with besides,” he paused to lift up the arm with the IV in it, “what else do we have to do right now?”

“What do you want to know?” Carlos asked, unable to keep all the anxiety out of his voice.

“Where did you grow up?”

“Here, or pretty close to here. We lived just outside the city.”

“Are your parents still around?”

“My mom is. My dad passed when I was a teenager.”

“I’m sorry.”

Carlos shrugged, “it’s not that I don’t miss him, but it’s been a while. It’s become normal, something I don’t really think about all that much anymore.”

He paused as he realized the territory they were treading into. Given their current location, it seemed a little bit too much like tempting fate for Carlos’s liking.

Thankfully Owen either agreed or sensed his hesitation because he selected a new topic, “Siblings?”

“Two sisters. They drive me nuts, but I love them.”

Owen chuckled, “older or younger?”

Carlos grimaced, “older, and they never let me forget I’m the youngest.”

Owen laughed outright at this, but his laughter abruptly turned into a groan. Carlos sat up, looking at him anxiously, “Are you okay? Do you need anything?”

Owen shook his head, “No, there’s just some...unwanted company headed this way.”

Carlos furrowed his brow as Owen plastered on a smile and raised a hand in greeting. He turned in his seat to see an older man waving back at him, a broad smile on his face.

Carlos gave Owen a skeptical look, “him?”

Owen nodded, “him. He may look harmless, but trust me, you will be praying for the awkward silence once he gets going.”

“It can’t be that bad.”

“It can.”

Carlos was not convinced and Owen shook his head, “Fine, don’t believe me but when it gets weird I will throw you under the bus as a distraction without hesitation.”

“I was raised here,” Carlos deadpanned, “they don’t call it southern charm for nothing. I think I can handle some small talk.”

“I knew there was a reason I liked you.”

Any response Carlos could have given was interrupted by Owen plastering the smile back on and nodding to the older man who was now approaching them, “Wayne, how’s it going?”

“Still breathing so I guess I can’t complain. How about you? How are things in the fire fighting business.”

“Busy, as usual.”

Wayne, apparently, chuckled but his expression turned curious as he noticed Carlos.

“And who’s this?” he asked as he settled down into the chair beside Owen’s. “I don’t believe we’ve had the pleasure.”

“Coach, this is my future son-in-law, Carlos Reyes.”

Carlos could feel the blush creeping up his cheeks and it took considerable effort to keep his voice even as he objected, “Owen we’re not...we haven’t even…”

But the older man waved off his protests, “Please son, don’t even bother. It’s only a matter of time. It doesn’t take an expert to figure out that you’ll be there sooner or later and I do happen to be an expert in my son.”

Carlos was saved from the trouble of trying to form an answer to that by their neighbor clearing his throat awkwardly.

“Well isn’t that something,” he noted mildly. “What do you do Carlos, are you a firefighter like the Strand boys?”

“No sir,” Carlos responded politely, “I’m an officer with the Austin Police department.”

Wayne turned to Owen, eyebrows raised, “A cop and a firefighter? I thought y’all didn’t get along?”

Owen shrugged, “We try not to hold it against him.”

The older man chuckled as he leaned back in his seat, “It’s good to see you with some more company here, regardless. Did you know this damn fool thought he could do this all on his own?”

The last part was directed at Carlos, who looked over at Owen with a raised eyebrow but Wayne barreled on, “he thought he could keep it all hidden, didn’t want to ‘worry anybody’. Complete horse shit, if you ask me.”

“We didn’t,” Carlos thought he heard Owen mutter under his breath but the coach carried on undaunted.

“I told him that was crazy talk, of course. Not even Superman could do this on his own, and you ain’t him, my friend.”

“That hurts, really.”

Wayne scoffed at him and looked about ready to go for round two when Carlos interrupted, “You’re right, but it doesn’t matter. He doesn’t have a choice anymore — he’s not alone. He has a whole team behind him. Whether he wants it or not,” he added as an afterthought.

Both of the men are looking at him now, with differing expressions. Eventually, Wayne looked back over at Owen, “I like him.”

Owen was studying Carlos, who met his look and refused to drop his gaze, “He has his moments, I guess.”

----------

Things passed roughly in the same for the remainder of the appointment. There was a steady stream of conversation between the three men and as much as Owen may claim to be annoyed by the older man, Carlos had a sneaking suspicion that it was mostly a front. As they were wrapping up and saying their goodbyes, Owen insisted that he would take Carlos to lunch. But by the time they reached the camaro, the spring had decidedly left Owen’s step and he sunk into the passenger seat in a heap, face pale and drawn.

Carlos frowned at him as he climbed into his own seat, “Are you feeling okay?”

There was silence for a moment and Carlos could see him considering — trying to determine how little of the truth he could get away with, he assumed — before he sighed and shook his head.

“I think that took a lot out of me. I’m just feeling kind of worn,” he winced as he looked over at Carlos, “rain check on lunch?”

“Of course,” Carlos assured him without hesitation. Owen gave him a thin smile as he turned on the car and pulled out of the parking lot and back towards the Strand house.

They rode in companionable silence for a few blocks until Owen spoke: “What did you mean back there, when you were saying I wouldn’t be alone?”

“I was saying that you have a family here in Austin, and that family is not going to let you go through this alone. We won’t let you.”

“We?”

Carlos swallowed nervously, but his voice was firm when he responded, “We. That family expands outside the firehouse and your crew.”

“And includes you?”

They arrived at a stop sign and Carlos took the opportunity to meet Owen’s gaze. It wasn’t accusatory or smug. It was simply curious, and maybe a bit hopeful.

“Yes,” Carlos confirmed, “I’ll be here when you need me. You’re the most important person in TK’s life and whatever is important to him is important to me. I will be here.”

There was silence again as Carlos pulled through the intersection and they continued on their way. When Owen spoke again his voice was thick with emotion, “I don’t think I am the most important person in his life. Not anymore.” Carlos looked at him sharply, but Owen just smiled; “I think you have that title now, and I couldn’t be happier about it.”

Carlos turned his attention back to the road, heat rising up in his cheeks. Owen chuckled from beside him, “I’m sorry, I don’t want to overwhelm you. I just—I just want you to know how happy I am that you make him happy. How happy I am that you two found each other.”

“Yeah,” Carlos responded softly, “me too.”

--------

Owen made it into the house on his own, though Carlos stayed close to his side, just in case. As soon as they entered he seemed to deflate. He looked sadly at the kitchen and sighed.

“I thought I would at least make lunch for us since going out didn’t happen but…”

Carlos shook his head and gently turned Owen towards the hallway containing his bedroom, “Don’t worry about it, I can scrounge something up if I get hungry. Just go lie down and rest for a bit, I’ll hang out until TK gets home in case you need anything. Then maybe the three of us can try dinner later, if you’re feeling up to it.”

“You don’t need to hang out here, you’ve already spent your entire afternoon with me.”

“My mind’s made up, you’re not going to change it. Now go, before you fall over.”

“Are you sure you’re not too good to be true?”

Carlos rolled his eyes and Owen chuckled before turning to head down the hall. He paused at the threshold of the hallway, turning back again, “Carlos?”

“Yes?”

“Thanks, for everything.”

Carlos smiled, “Don’t mention it, I’m happy to help. Besides, I can think of worse ways to spend an afternoon.”

Owen shook his head at him in exasperation, but his smile betrayed him. With a wave he disappeared down the hall and Carlos waited until he heard his bedroom door close before grabbing a glass of water and settling on the couch to wait. A glance at the clock told him that TK should be home soon so he grabbed a magazine that was sitting on the coffee table to flip through idly, killing time and trying to keep his mind from racing.

It’s not that he’s worried about TK’s reaction exactly, but it did feel like he crossed a line today. Things in his relationship with Owen had decidedly shifted. While that wasn’t a bad thing, Carlos still felt weird about it happening without TK’s knowledge. They always made an effort to communicate clearly; to avoid miscommunications, to ensure that they were always on the same page.

Any worries he had were quickly banished from his mind by the sight of TK stepping through the front door. He paused on the threshold, eyes widening as he noticed Carlos on the couch.

“Carlos?” he asked as he set down his keys, “what are you doing here? I thought we weren’t meeting until later?”

Carlos set the magazine he had been pretending to read on the couch, a bright smile spreading across his face at the sight of TK. “We were,” he confirmed, “but I wasn’t here to see you. Not that I don’t want to see you,” he added hastily, “hi - how was work?”

TK rolled his eyes but his smile betrayed his amusement as he crossed to the couch, leaning over the back to give him a kiss: “Nice save. Work was fine, have you seen my dad?”

Carlos nodded, the smile on his face from seeing TK and getting to kiss him fading with the shift in topic, “he’s resting, the chemo session took a lot out of him today.”

TK nodded solemnly. He turned in the direction of the hallway likely with the intention of checking on Owen but paused, turning back to face Carlos with a curious expression.

“Wait,” he said slowly, “why would you come to see my dad today? You knew he had an appointment…” he trailed off and Carlos smiled sheepishly.

“I knew how worried you were about him going alone and I had the afternoon off, so I went. He was surprised, but I think he appreciated the company.”

TK was giving him a strange look so he stopped and frowned, his mind slipping into overdrive, “Was that not okay? He didn’t seem to mind…”

“No,” TK said quickly, “no, it’s fine. It’s more than fine actually, I just...you spent your afternoon off sitting with my dad at his chemo appointment?”

Carlos shrugged, “I like your dad. Besides, it was important to you so it’s important to me.”

He meant every word of it.

There was silence then as Carlos looked at TK curiously, not sure what to expect. TK for his part was staring at Carlos as if seeing him in a new light. Carlos was just about to ask what was wrong when TK leaned down again, placing a deep, lingering kiss on his lips. Carlos leaned into it, savoring the feeling on TK’s lips on his own. When they pulled apart, TK’s eyes glimmered with unshed tears.

“Thank you, Carlos,” he said, voice low and sincere.

Carlos smiled at him, reaching across the back of the couch to grab his hand. He intertwined it with his own, holding TK’s gaze all the while.

“I’d do anything for you,” he said simply.

The smile he got in return filled his soul and in that moment, Carlos came to a realization. He was hopelessly in love with TK Strand and there was no going back.

Even as he thought it, he knew one more thing without a doubt: he didn’t want to. TK was it for him, and he could be happy loving him for the rest of his life.

[read on ao3]

#911 lone star #911 lone star fic #carlos reyes #owen strand #tk strand #tarlos

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melodious-madrigals · 3 years

Text

prompt: “it was the best blind date I didn’t know I was on” -wondertrev edition

***

Diana is late.

And she’s not even sure she wants to be here, which is making her even more late as she dithers just outside the bistro where her blind date is meant to be taking place.

Damn it, Etta.

Etta’s been pushing to set Diana up on a blind date since a couple of months after her break-up with Kasia, which—it had been a bad break-up. Not messy or dramatic, but still heartbreaking to come to the conclusion that they’d grown, just not together, and wanted different things out of life.

Diana is still smarting, not entirely sure if she even wants a new relationship. And then there’s the fact that she doesn’t particularly like blind dates, and that the person Etta has suggested is a man. Which is...theoretically valid; Diana can’t contest that. But men can be such pigs, and it’s one of many reasons that she’s second-guessing this whole endeavor.

In fact, she’s in the middle of round four of questioning whether she’s even going to go in (and cursing the day she absentmindedly agreed to Etta’s offer to set her up with ‘Grant’) when she realizes: it’s a person in there, wondering why they’re being stood up, and that’s not fair, no matter how much she doesn’t want to be here.

Steeling herself, she marches in. Her eyes scan the restaurant—ah, there. Tucked away in a corner, near one of the windows looking out onto the street, is the only solo diner in the establishment. And he’s already got a bowl of soup in front of him. (That’s fair; she’s now twenty-four whole minutes late.) Taking a calming breath, she heads over to the table.

“I’m so sorry for how late I am,” she says, sliding into the chair opposite of what she now realizes is an unfairly attractive man: swooping blond hair and bright blue eyes and a strong jaw—focus, Diana! “It’s truly unforgivable. I—” She could fib, blame it all on her work, but that would only account for about seven minutes of tardiness. The rest is all on her, and she’s not one for lying. “I have no excuse.” She takes a breath, allows herself to reset. Gives the man in front of her a small smile. “I’m Diana.”

“Steve,” says the man, a strange expression on his face as he reaches across the table to shake her hand. (Firm, but not the arsehole power-grip that so many men prefer.)

She blinks, because Etta had said Grant, but now that she thinks about it, Etta has a habit, left over from her days in the military, of calling people almost exclusively by their last names.

“Right, Steve,” she says, testing the name out, and his mouth quirks up into a smile. Maybe this isn’t so bad after all. She ducks her head to hide her own smile, and her eyes again fall on the half-eaten bowl of soup. The smile drops, registering that she’s kept him waiting long enough to not only order but start eating. “I really am sorry,” she apologizes, but Steve waves a hand.

“Don’t worry about it,” he says. “I’m glad for the company.”

If this is a strange thing to say to a blind date, Diana doesn’t notice, too focused on the way he hands her a menu and politely seeks the waitress’s attention. (Another point in his favor; he isn’t demanding, and makes casual, affable conversation with the woman while Diana scans the menu so she can place her food order right away with her drink.)

“So, Diana,” Steve says, after she’s ordered, “what is it that you do?”

It strikes her as odd; she would’ve thought Etta would have told him, but maybe he’s just being polite, so she launches into an explanation of her curation job, and he asks intelligent, relevant follow-up questions, and suddenly they’re talking about art and architecture and the best uses of beetroot and the innovation of the Gambian case in front of the ICJ and that Icelandic group that sang the haunting 800 year old hymn a cappella in the metro a few years back and a number of things in between.

There’s something that feels so natural about talking to him, and before she realizes it, the bistro is starting to close down for the evening.

“Can I have your number?” asks Steve, as they pay and make their way back into the cool night air.

Diana bites back a grin and nods, holding out her hand for his phone, where she adds herself as a contact.

“I had a really nice time tonight.”

“Me too.”

She kisses him on the cheek, and then they’re headed in separate directions. Almost immediately her phone buzzes, and when she pauses to look at it, she sees a message from an unknown number.

This is Steve!

She turns back to find him standing at the opposite end of the block, grinning at his phone. He looks up in time to catch her watching him and raises a hand in a sort of faux salute, making her laugh and shake her head.

There’s a lingering smile stuck on her face that she can’t seem to get rid of (and doesn’t particularly want to) as she walks home, enjoying the cool night air and the giddy feeling of a nice evening.

The next morning, there’s a frantic knock on her door. When she opens it, it’s Etta, who’s absolutely beside herself.

“I’m so sorry, Diana. I’m going to murder him!” she exclaims, hurriedly pacing the room. “I really thought he was better than that.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Grant,” she hisses. “He just—left you there. Decided not to show. Freely admitted to it via text this morning! I’m going to skin him alive when I find him in person.”

“But Etta, I—” Her brow furrows, and suddenly a couple of things that didn’t quite make sense about the evening slot into place. “Etta, it’s okay. I had an enjoyable night anyways.”

“—the audacity,” Etta is saying.

“Etta,” Diana says more forcefully, catching her by the shoulders gently. “Don’t trouble yourself. It was hardly a wasted evening. Maybe no more blind dates, though, okay?”

“Right,” agrees Etta, deflating. “Of course not.”

The moment Etta finally leaves, Diana picks up her phone, stares at the text there (“This is Steve!” stares back, bafflingly unhelpful in revealing answers to the questions she has), and hits the call button before she can overthink it. Steve picks up after just two rings.

“Diana, hi!” He sounds pleased and a little surprised, but she mostly misses it in getting straight to the point.

“Your last name isn’t Grant.”

She can almost hear the wince through the line. “Er, no. It’s not.”

“You weren’t at Bistro Papillon for a blind date last night.”

A slight pause. “I was not.”

“Steve—”

“I didn’t realize, right away, what was going on,” says Steve, rushed now, something desperate in his tone. “And when I did—I was going to tell you, I swear. But then—I wanted to keep talking,” he admits quietly, almost defeated. “And I was afraid if I told you, you’d leave, which in hindsight is stupid, because it should have been your choice—”

“My would-be date stood me up.”

“Then they’re an idiot,” says Steve, without missing a beat.

Diana huffs a laugh. “I’m the idiot,” she says, “for just sitting down when you were in the middle of your meal and assuming you were my date like a crazy person, and ruining your evening—”

“You didn’t ruin anything.” And gods, he sounds so sure.

“But when I sat down—”

“You looked like an angelic vision,” he interrupts, voice still perfectly resolute, “and I knew that even if I didn’t know you, or why you were at my table, I wanted to get to know you.”

“And—”

“And then you were brilliant and witty, and we had the best dinner conversation I’ve had in a really, really long time.”

“I ranted about the fallacies of using a hegemonic, patriarchal lens to view Hellenistic terracottas and marbles for at least eight uninterrupted minutes,” refutes Diana, somewhat sheepishly.

“Yeah,” says Steve, and she thinks, somehow, that she can hear the amusement in his voice. “As I said, brilliant, and the most interesting conversation I’ve had in ages.”

Diana shakes her head, then realizes he can’t see that through the phone. “This whole thing is ridiculous.”

“Yet here we are.”

He hasn’t hung up yet. Neither has she, for that matter.

(She finds that she doesn’t really want to.)

“So what is your last name, if you’re not the Grant with whom my friend was going to set me up?”

“Trevor,” he replies. “Steve Trevor.”

“Where does that leave us, Steve Trevor?”

“Well, what are you doing for lunch?” Steve asks, and she laughs; she can’t help it.

“I’ve got no plans, just yet.”

“I’d like to hear the whole story,” muses Steve. “Come on a date with me?”

“Yes,” says Diana automatically, before she can overthink it. Then, “This is absurd. The way we’ve started—”

“Will be an excellent story to tell, someday,” he counters.

And it is. Whenever someone asks them how they met, later, Steve inevitably grins, sharing a wink with Diana as he prepares his version of the tale. “Well,” he starts, every time, “it was the best blind date I didn’t realize I was on…”

***

#wondertrev #diana prince #steve trevor #lenci writes #lenci's tumblr ficlets #i started this fic this morning and am posting now because i have no self control #this was inspired by a fic i read in another fandom and i couldn't resist using the trope for wondertrev

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loyally-unfaithful · 4 years

Text

—; but “sentimental boy” is my nom de plume

word count: 1916

pairing: connor/gn!reader

genre: slight fluff; hurt no comfort

summary: it has been a year after the android revolution. humans and android alike settled down, an olive branch was offered as a sign of reconciliation. with newfound peace came along newfound love, and many open roads to choose from. this was no different for the rk800—connor. surprisingly or unsurprisingly, he decided to continue working at the dpd, this time as a bonafide detective. but he has also accepted the thrilling uncertainty of life that deviancy has brought; the same strings that brought his lover in his life.the same ones he hated and cursed, the same fates who ripped it all away.

a/n: everytime i convince myself i came out of my dbh hyperfixation i just look at connor and i become lovesick again.

gosh i know i should be finishing my other fic or work on the prologue script for my vn, but,,,,,,, i just had a sudden hankering for connor angst,,,,

written during a sleep deprivation induced moment of epiphany,,,,, (purple prose cuz im extra af uwu)

I’ve never written angst before so i’d love to hear your thoughts on it

maybe if you asked him one year ago whether he’d consider returning someone’s feelings, romantic feelings, he’d reply to you with a placid smile and a polite « i’m sorry, i wasn’t programmed to reciprocate romantic interest. ». he remembered that he’d sneer at them internally. now thinking about it, long before he questioned his obedience towards her, he already showed signs of deviancy.

you did what you were designed to do.

memories from his past would still torment him erratically, doubts would resurface on particularly dark days. but you were the light that cut through that haze. this wasn’t a “fake deviancy”. it couldn’t have been. not when he is holding your body so close to his, warmth radiating off of each other, two heartbeats—similar, but different—thrumming together. all the softly whispered and adoringly announced « i love you »’s; all the quick and coveted pecks and all the feverish and passionate kisses. no, he was alive, he was sure of it—alive and absolutely enamoured by you. all semblance of doubt ebbed away when you entered his life.

whenever he’s around you, he feels more alive: you make him feel everything, all the little precious things. tenderness and adoration when he shares tranquil mornings with you. he feels more alive when he’s with you, all the little habits and routines too endearing: the sweet post-it notes scattered over your shared flat; scribbled upon it are encouraging words or sweet nothings. conflicting work schedules meant that moments spent together were scarce, but that made them even more valuable and coveted. captivation, was another emotion that he felt around you. your mannerism, your dreams and interests, your physical attributes and quality of voice. logically speaking, you were just another human, insignificant in the grand scheme of things. you’d live and then one day, you’d die. as if you never really existed. but he wasn’t being logical. how could he be? when you were right there in front of him? you made him irrational, and he found that new aspect in life thrilling. confusing at first, but exciting. he was eternally grateful that you let him experience all these beautiful emotions with you. he was grateful that you allowed him in your short journey that you called life.

he was happy, absolutely content, with his shared life with you. you were both in perfect places in your respective lives: you both had a stable job, loving family backing you up, and a fulfilling love life. what seemed to be a mismatched couple at first turned to be 2 pieces of the same puzzle finally finding their place. life for the both of you couldn’t be better.

but along with the many exquisite moment that your romantic endeavours brought you, the android didn’t only taste the sweet delicacies of life; no matter how idyllic a moment may be, there were times when he had to taste the astringent and sour desserts life offered.

anger. that was an emotion that he felt. but that’s not accurate, no… it was frustration and shock and betrayal, all the unsavoury feelings in the world. perhaps it was due to his inexperience, maybe his lack of exposure to these negative sentiments, that caused him to snap the way he did. to hurt you the way he did. but it happened and there was no turning back the clock.

no matter how much he begged and cried for it.

he was proud that you got the job offer in canada, he really was. and he, like any other caring boyfriend would, offered to accompany you there, an offer which you gladly accepted. that was the plan. but plans were difficult to follow. crime waits for no man, working for the law meant that connor must always be available for duty. no excuses, he was an android. but connor wasn’t just a simple android detective, no, he had a much more important role: he was the link, the messenger, between jericho and the police force. he was the crucial communication between the two forces. so when jericho contacted him about threats of anti-android attacks, he had to make an appearance at their base. the meeting coincided with the day you were meant to travel to canada. it was a simple trip really. it only took a few hours by train, stay in canada for 2 days (it was the weekend), and then return back to detroit, probably arriving in the late afternoons to their home.

but you were looking forwards to traveling with your wonderful partner after « [we] spent so much time apart ». the day he told you the urgent change of plans, connor was tired, overwhelmed. you were frustrated and expectant. a fight was bound to have erupted. accusatory statements, along the lines of: « you don’t actually care about me! it’s all about work and work and work! » and « i can’t believe how selfish you’re being right now! » in between shouting and yelling and frustration and anger and contempt–

you both went to bed exhausted but spiteful, still not forgiving each other. in hindsight, he felt so utterly pathetic, so unbelievably childish, for being that cruel, and uncaring. he didn’t want to be like him again. so many glares and insults were thrown at each other, tears threatened to spill, LED flashed and shone a true red, doors were slammed. he felt awful, plain and simple. you both lied in the same bed, under the same cover. so close yet so excruciatingly far apart. back facing the other’s, no one said a word.

you woke up before him. bitter and unhappy. no morning kisses, no whispered « i love you » to wake your other half. you wordlessly got yourself ready, grabbed your bag and quietly snuck out. no post it notes were left. no sweet promises or encouraging words. you could do this work trip without him. you were independent. you didn’t need a tin can to chaperone you everywhere. so you left. plain and simple. gone. since you woke up and left earlier than planned, you boarded an earlier train. how lovely and convenient. the carriages were mostly filled with androids. perhaps they were trying to immigrate to canada like the others. who knows. you paid no mind and absentmindedly scrolled through your phone, obsessively checking your messages to see if connor realised. to see if he apologised. because frankly, at that point you were tired of being mad and just wanted to spend the day in his arms. but prideful and petty as you were, you weren’t willing to apologise and admit your mistakes first.

connor roused from stasis a few moments afterward, less bitter and more regretful. he wished to right his wrongs but the normally warm presence beside him was not there. his system was slowly booting back up when his audio sensor picked up an incessant ringing from the living room. he jolted up and rushed out to pick up the ringing phone call and waited for the other side to speak up.

the room was so utterly quiet, a silence so suffocating engulfed the room, that you could hear a pin drop. the voice on the other side asked whether this was indeed your house and that he was indeed connor anderson. he swallowed dryly and answered with a soft, « yes ». running a quick check in his database, he matches the caller’s voice with a certain nathaniel edwards. first responder. he allowed his HUD to display the news. if androids could get pale, have all their blood drain from their faces, his would have certainly done so. he stood, rigid and motionless, consumed by shock and horror.

the news and the first responder’s words blended into one as he gripped the phone tighter: « this morning, at 7:48 am the train from detroit to toronto was caught in a devastating turn of events: the train soon caught in fire and exploded as it made its way over the border. it has been confirmed that there has been 0 survivors. it is unclear whether this was an unfortunate accident or the result of anti-android terrorism. »

the other person’s voice poured through the speaker but he wasn’t listening. he stared blankly in front of him. no way, he thought, it couldn’t have been… the only sign that the android was registering the other man’s input was the now constant red LED.

« sir? sir. i’m sorry to bring this— – no, this isn’t right… you must have the wrong number, he interrupted. there were probably others with your name… maybe they were mistaken... – sir that’s not possible, w— – you must have gotten the wrong house… not… it-it couldn’t have been…» but he knew how improbable it was that they got the wrong number. he was built to be logical, to believe statistics. the statistics told him you were dead. long gone. he hoped and prayed that you stayed back, didn’t get on the earlier train. the statistics told him you did.

he choked out a response, quiet and defeated. you were gone. he’d never get to see you again. « i… i’m sorry… i-i don’t understand… – we tried our best to find them sir, but… the fire was too severe… if we gain any new developm— – you didn’t save them. »

still in a daze, he must have hung up on the poor man and unceremoniously dropped the phone. its clatter the only sound in this deafening silence. the reality of it all comes crashing through and he collapsed, ugly sobs escaping him as the denial faded away to make way for the pure and unfiltered grief. he felt lost. for the first time in a long while since amanda he felt so utterly and completely lost. no more shining beacon during his dark and stormy nights. no more valued affection and coveted kisses. no more notes and no more smile to come home to.

he laughed bitterly, devoid of any humour. it was funny, just how cruel the fates were: made human life so fleeting. lachesisonly gave them such a short eternity. and when he thought you both found your missing halves, bound to another by an invisible string, atropos cuts it. a small snippet that is so easily ripped away from you. he belonged with you, he felt at peace with you. he was able to be what he struggled to be for the majority of his miserable and artificial existence. with you, he was able to be happy.

but now he’ll have to get used to not coming home to a warm embrace. he’ll have to get used to going into stasis alone, in the cold bed. he’ll have to get used to his aching heart being greeted by an empty house. every cold and lonely nights. it’s ridiculous how human he felt because of you. and he was both thankful and spiteful for it.

sadness and bitter regret ripped through him when he remembered that he didn’t share goodbyes before he left. he remembered how he couldn’t have apologised to you and tenderly held you. he regretted not being able to tell you how much he loved you and how much you meant to him for the last time. ra9 only knows the things he’d do and the things he’d sacrifice, just to have you in his arms again.

instead he was faced with the bitter reminder that the last thing he’s ever said to you, your last memory of him, was a contemptuous and scornful « i wished i never met you ».

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remiwarner · 3 years

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THE BLUE MINOR MISERY

His father’s house stood, unchanged, on a somnolent, grey street of similar homes, plain and hollow-looking. The past slept there, cocooned in the evening quiet, and, walking down it, Remi felt no time had passed at all. He was seventeen, on his way back from a sweltering day on some corner, to take a shower before heading out for a night at some club, and his father was waiting for him in the living room or in the kitchen, to shove another bundle of baggies at him with that disapproving, impatient look of his. He’d already dropped out of school. His friends would be at home, having dinner with their families, doing homework, playing video games, and he was working. Day in and day fucking out. Dusk tinted everything purple: the fading paint on the walls of every residence, the flowerless clumps of oleander that in daylight were pops of green in plain flowerbeds at the end of each monochrome yard – rows and rows of stony ochre – framed by the yellow desert grass sprouting around their cobbled edges. Warm light flooded from a few of the windows, and he wondered as he passed, not for the first time, what the lives of the people inside were like. Mundane. Happy? He couldn’t imagine it. Not in Battery – nor anywhere else, for that matter.

Remi wondered, pacing slowly up the driveway to his childhood home, whether life would always be like this. Thirty-odd years of drawing breath, and he’d lived in shadows – his father’s, the Government’s, the city’s, his own; they crowded around him, untouchable, encroaching, and even the flashes of light that speckled his past – stars glimmering in the void of the black firmament of his existence – never quite chased them away. Flashes of warmth that felt illusory in hindsight, just as fake as any other kind of joy and as easily extinguished. One thing dressed up as another. He unlocked the door and slipped inside, closing it noiselessly behind him out of habit before turning the lock again, leaving the key on the side-table in the hallway. The Arellanos: pity. That poor kid, that poor kid, that poor fucking kid. Silas: necessity. He’d never had an easy time making other friends. And Charlie… A hand dipped into his pocket, a plastic case landed on the worn coffee table in the living room, and he was turning away, headed for the kitchen. He’d bound her to him; sickness and health when it was mostly the former. For better or worse when worse was all shit ever got. She deserves better. Colie deserves better.

Graying white countertops under grayer cabinets – clean, but he could see the drained bottles cluttering the empty surface. The cigarette packs, the lighters, the ashtrays, the baggies, sometimes bricks, the folds of crumpled bills. The dirty plates littered with crumbs or stained with dried sauce or grease, thrown at his head if he left them there too long. It didn’t matter if he hadn’t been home – if his father saw him in the kitchen and there were dishes in or by the sink, it was too late. He flipped the tap on and washed his hands. Fuck you. A stray, instinctual thought. Words he’d never gotten to speak to his old man; words he’d spoken to himself every day for… years. His entire adult life. A thousand times he’d pictured it, and it was never the vengeful moment it should’ve been, even in his imagination. Look at yourself. Ungrateful brat. Your ma’d be fuckin’ ashamed. Oh, y’got somethin’ to say? Speak up, kid… The fuck y’say to me? Huh? C’mere. Think you’re a man now, do ya? Y’aint shit. Stop squirmin’, I said come– Remi! Y’get your ass back– Remi! The soles of his sneakers pounding concrete, the door wide open in his wake. His father rushing out to the front yard and then stopping, silent, and Remi knew what he’d see if he turned around – a wordless promise. He wouldn’t go home that night, probably not the next, but he had to eventually, and all he could do then was hope to find his father too drunk, too high, passed out – something, so he wouldn’t remember. The promise was a grip like a vice on his arms. Screaming that made his eardrums vibrate and sent dull stabs of pain into his head. Punches that radiated heat and sent throbbing waves of hurt far beyond their point of impact, and the taste of blood in his mouth. The promise was a break in the middle of a scolding, a look that he was too slow to recognize followed by fingers suddenly encircling his wrist and yanking, his palm landing on the table with a smack, and the glowing cigarette that had been hanging between his father’s cracked lips a second earlier searing the back of his hand. The promise was plates breaking, cups, bottles – shards of glass flying, razor sharp projectiles that cut when they grazed him.

And so help him if he made a fucking sound. A shout, a yelp, a whimper, a fucking gasp. He’d been told, for as long as he could recall: he was too old to cry.

At his side, his left hand was curling in and out of a fist, slowly, forcefully – mindlessly, over and over and over. He’d gotten distracted, and he hated this fucking house. He hated the street, and he hated himself, so he supposed he belonged. Remi could feel all the shit building, expanding, consuming him, and if he didn’t move, he was going to be the one throwing something. Hitting something. Fucking caving in on himself and imploding, exhaustion and hatred decaying him from the inside out. So he moved. Step by step into the living room, where the windows were shuttered always, thin strips of yellow painted across the furniture and the pale green wallpaper from the lamps outside now that the last of the natural light was gone and the dark of night was creeping in.

Gone. That’s what he needed. Everything gone for a bit, and he could get his head straight. Just… A rectangular black case. Its contents wrapped individually, in clear plastic. Ampule of sterile water – cap off, white powder in, cap on (don’t touch the inside), shake. He pulled his hoodie over his head and left it in a pile on the threadbare cushion next to him. Wrapped the rubber tourniquet around his bicep and held it in place with his teeth, tightening it – felt the slight numbing tingle that crackled towards his fingertips. Dragged an alcohol wipe over his skin. The syringe came out of its packaging, needle breaking the seal in the cap of the ampule before he pulled the plunger back, slowly. Half? Two thirds? What a waste. All of it. He tilted the small capsule, making sure not to draw up any air, but still double-checked when he’d taken the syringe out, a couple of drops landing on the wooden surface in front of him. Angling the needle, he carefully inserted it into a vein on the inside of his forearm, near the crook of his elbow, and nudged the plunger back a little, watching with fascination as his blood seeped into the colorless liquid. Go away, go away, go away, go away… Remi lowered his head, letting the half-twist, half-knot around his arm slip loose, then spat the tourniquet onto the floor next to him and pushed down on the plunger until it touched the bottom of the barrel.

Needle out. Drop the syringe on the table. Antiseptic adhesive fucking bandage – a white square he pressed to his arm and then forgot to let go of because he was busy melting into a puddle. Indescribable, all-encompassing warmth flowed through him, sweeping every other thought from his mind in its current and dissolving every feeling that wasn’t unadulterated euphoria. He hadn’t registered sinking into the cushions, but he was looking at the ceiling now, and his arm glided slowly across his torso and then dropped, settling limply at his side. Fuck the fucking neighbors, he thought deliriously, drawing a slow, blissful breath, I know happy.

It’s this.

#remi #para: the blue minor misery #( title from nitrous gas by frightened rabbit )#tw: child abuse

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inspired-by-the-music · 4 years

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For You: Stand By Me

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Recommended Reading: For You: 4 O’Clock; these works have separate, independent, but deeply interwoven timelines.

Chapter 2: The Boy with the Keychain

Lei’s POV

2009 was a good year for me. That was the year “Sorry, Sorry,” was released, sky-rocketing Super Junior to almost unprecedented success. That was the year I met Sehun, who (along with the members of Super Junior, Taeyeon, and Amber) is among the people I have known the longest. That was the year I celebrated my golden birthday— turning ten years old on April 10.

I don’t want you to think that Sehun was ever all I lived for, but you have to understand that his was my favorite face from those days. Back then, I hadn’t yet heard the whispers about the idol who never debuted. Maybe Mom and Super Junior were shielding my ears, or maybe the rumors just hadn’t resonated with me because I was too young to empathize. Back then, because I was not an idol or even a trainee, I had no image to protect.

Of course, I didn’t understand the value of freedom until it was limited once (often judgmental) eyes fixed on me, almost anticipating a mistake. As a child, my feelings were as simple as this: I liked Sehun, and I wanted to see him. Because I was not yet in the habit of denying my urges, I gawked after him. I would have followed him to the ends of the earth.

The really pitiful part is that I didn’t ever expect him to speak to me, look at me or acknowledge me in any way, so I never asserted my presence. Always carrying a book— either educational or fictional— I would only try to sit near him or steal occasional glances. I never spoke first or even listened closely when he spoke to Suho, Chanyeol, or any of the other trainees who were later grouped in EXO. Just seeing him or hearing his voice made me happy; I was content just to be near Sehun.

Years later, for some time, I would curse this period that I was too ashamed to remember. Once I had grown into a teenager who despised (feared) dating and boys and the fake flashes of romance that so many idols wasted their lives chasing, I hated that I had ever been a lovesick child— especially toward Sehun, who had always been too old and too aware of an idol’s limitations.

Now that enough time has passed, now that some wounds have healed, I believe that willingness to be even the most insignificant character in somebody’s life is the purest form of love. I want to fondly remember when I had been so willing, so innocent, but it’s difficult because I’m not the same person I was back then.

Isn’t it sad that everything changes? Even I, who I swore could never change, have grown past those days. I don’t especially want to go back— that kind of regret is useless because it makes people wish for the impossible ability to turn back time— but I would like to remember without bias. I would like to remember without knowing the end. I would like to tell you my memories as simply as they seemed at the time, but nothing is simple in hindsight.

Please understand that these are memories that, until quite recently, I tried to silence in my mind and heart. Please understand that I am trying to untangle them and restore them because the storm has passed, and I am ready to cherish them again. Please don’t laugh at me for never quite growing out of some childish habits. Please forgive me for failing to stay the child in this story forever; I didn’t mean to grow up.

Let me try to remember things one moment at a time. Maybe that will help.

I’ll start on my tenth birthday because that was supposed to be a golden day, and maybe it was. It started where every other day started: at the S.M. building. In the corner of the dance studio, I sat with Mom. Although I was supposed to be studying note cards of Korean vocabulary words while Mom finalized Super Junior’s schedule for the month, I kept stealing glances at Sehun as he, with Chanyeol, tried to learn a dance from Donghae and Eunhyuk.

When Donghae caught me watching, he kindly asked, “Do you want to join us, Lei?” As always, he was trying to include me in his world.

However, in that moment, I decided that I would have to learn to admire Sehun more discreetly; I hated the blush that scalded my face when everybody in the room turned to look at me. It didn’t matter that the room wasn’t full; four people staring at me was enough.

Of course, I wouldn’t learn instantly how to discreetly admire Sehun. I wonder how much embarrassment I could have saved myself had such a miracle been possible, but that kind of imagination is pointless.

Shaking my head at Donghae’s question, I found my red-faced reflection in the mirror lining the walls. Ten seems too young to feel insecure, I think, but I remember that when finding myself in the glass, I thought of all the beautiful people I watched walk through the agency. I looked nothing like those people.

Maybe because I was already confident in my intellect and my sense of morality, or maybe because I was only ten, my only dream at the time was to be beautiful too. As was my habit, I forced a smile just to see the small metal brackets glued onto my teeth to remind myself that I was making progress. The braces helped, I guess. They straightened my teeth and closed the gap I never liked until years later when I looked back on old photographs. My smile would always be too big for my face, though; I would never grow into it.

“Come on, Lei,” Eunhyuk insisted. He either never picked up my embarrassment or he never cared. I don’t mean that in a negative way; I always admired that Eunhyuk wasn’t limited by nerves, and I wanted to be like that too. “If you’re gonna be a superstar someday, you have to learn how to dance!”

Because he wasn’t dumb enough to overtly ridicule me in front of Mom, Donghae, and Eunhyuk, Chanyeol didn’t say anything. He couldn’t quite stifle his laugh, though. He was always laughing at me, and never in a way that made me want to laugh along— in a way that drained the color from my already pale face and intensified each beat of my heart until it was hard to breathe.

I have always been sensitive. Back then, I didn’t know how to hide my emotions, and I didn’t understand that Chanyeol was entitled to some degree of respect as my elder, so I gripped my notecards until they bent and grumbled, “Stop laughing at me.”

Chanyeol didn’t hear me over Sehun. Despite understanding that Chanyeol was his elder, Sehun furrowed his brow. “What’s so funny, Chanyeol?” It was one of those questions that really means ‘shut up,’ so Sehun didn’t even give Chanyeol a chance to respond before saying, “I don’t mind if Lei practices with us.”

Sehun's rush to my defense, as he often did, should have made me feel better, but his brief glance at me only deepened my blush. Wanting nothing less than to embarrass myself in front of Sehun— forgetting for a moment that I was already a decent dancer owing to Eunhyuk’s occasional instruction— I pleadingly looked to Mom to bail me out of an impromptu dance lesson.

Only having to scan my expression to feel my desperation, Mom said, “Lei is studying right now,” and they returned to their practice without another word as if theywere never distracted.

If I was ten, that means that Mom was almost thirty-one; our birthdays were exactly twenty years and ten months apart. I always thought that she was the prettiest person in the world, especially then, when her long black hair was tied up in a ponytail. Sweeping her bangs out of her eyes to study my reaction, she said quietly, “You don’t have to become an idol if you don’t want to.”

I remember gaping at her because that was the first time I realized that fame was an option. That was the moment I understood that Donghae and Eunhyuk, at least, imagined that I might follow in their footsteps. Feeling for the first time that they were invested in my future— feeling for the first time that I could fail to fulfill their hopes, I asked, “Do you want me to become an idol?”

Mom smiled and said something that I couldn’t understand: “You are already my idol.” She dropped her notebook to cup my cheeks, which were forever swollen, giving me the appearance of a child well into adulthood. “You have been my ultimate idol for ten years, Lei.”

“Ten years,” I repeated because it was impossible to fathom, “is my whole entire life!”

“Exactly,” Mom nodded.

In those ten years, all I had done after birth was follow people around. First I followed Mom because she was the first person I ever saw and trusted; and then I met Yesung and followed him because he was the bravest person I had ever known and I thought he could teach me to be strong; and then I met Taeyeon and followed her because she was the prettiest person I had ever seen and I thought she could teach me to be like the sun; and then I met Amber, and we talked so easily because we both knew English, and we were both American, and she looked different from everyone else too, and I followed her because I thought she could teach me to embrace my reflection; and then I met Sehun and followed him because he was the handsomest person in the world and I didn’t care what he taught me as long as I could be near him.

Now, I try not to criticize those days too harshly, because I believe they were the steps I took to find myself. After all, I was only a child trying to navigate the world. For a while, though, I faulted myself for trying to fill the voids in my character with people. For a while, I thought that was the worst thing to do— lean too heavily on others. For a while, I thought I had done the wrong thing by looking for them to teach me what I wanted to learn. I don’t know where I got those ideas; ultimately, I think they did more harm than good.

That was my first moment of deep confusion— the first hint of loneliness— when I was ten years old, and I couldn’t understand why my mother, who spent all her days around real idols, could look at me as if I had accomplished anything that compared to their achievements.

I sat there after Mom released her hold on my cheeks, after the dance practice had dissolved, and the only thought that made sense in my mind was, “If Sehun is going to be an idol, then I want to be one too.” That’s probably the most embarrassing thought I had in my entire life, but at least I had the sense to keep it to myself.

Standing to escort Donghae and Eunhyuk to their next schedule, she asked as if I were an adult who determined my own schedule, “Are you coming, Lei? You can help me with the photo shoot!”

To tell you the truth, I think I might have been better as a manager than I was as an idol. Like Mom, from a young age, my mind could identify most risks from a mile away. A part of me wanted to leap at the chance to help with another photo shoot, but I shook my head because I already made plans. I guess I was like an adult who determined my own schedule.

“I promised Taeyeon that I would meet her down the hall before Girls’ Generation’s dance practice. Apparently,” I smiled, “she wants to give me a birthday present!”

Despite Chanyeol’s efforts to pull him outside, Sehun remained in the doorway. “It’s your birthday?”

Before I could form a blushing response, Donghae dropped an arm over my shoulder and boasted, “Yep!”

Wiping at non-existent tears, Eunhyuk sniffled, “Our little baby princess is already a decade old!”

While Eunhyuk pinched at my cheeks and I rolled my eyes at the attention, Chanyeol huffed insincerely, “Happy birthday, princess. Now Sehun—” he looked at his friend with bulging eyes— “are we going to the arcade or what?”

“I thought we were going to celebrate my birthday,” Sehun responded. And when Chanyeol insisted that they were, Sehun continued, “then stop rushing me.” At that, as if Sehun held the authority in their friendship, Chanyeol fell silent.

Turning to me with the faintest of smiles, Sehun asked, “Since we would’ve been twins if you were born two days later, do you want to celebrate our birthdays together?”

I blinked, and Sehun asked more clearly, “Do you want to go to the arcade with us?”

Under his breath so that maybe only Sehun should have heard, Chanyeol said, “You can’t be twins with a little kid.”

‘I’m not that little!’ I wanted to argue, but maybe I was.

While Sehun was only five years older than me, and Chanyeol was only two years older than him, in the world of children and teenagers, I was as good as centuries younger. Since everyone I knew was older than me, I should have been used to this feeling, but I wasn’t. While I was always the youngest in every room, nobody liked to flaunt their seniority as much as Chanyeol. That’s why we never became friends.

The sense that I didn’t belong in an arcade with a couple of teenagers overwhelmed my childish desire to always be with Sehun. Still, I didn’t quite have the heart to directly answer ‘no,’ so, staring down at my sneakered feet, I replied, “I don’t think my Mom will allow me to go.”

“Come on, Manager,” Donghae gently pleaded as if Mom had actually told me no. “Sehun is a responsible kid, and—”

Glancing back at me, Mom said, “You can go if you want." Without waiting for my answer (not that I would have said anything anyway), she asked Chanyeol and Sehun, “Are you going to the arcade at the mall down the street?”

Spurred by Sehun’s nudging, Chanyeol begrudgingly replied, “Yes, ma’am.” He glared down at his watch. “Sehun and I were going to catch the 3:00 bus, but now I guess we’ll have to wait for the 3:15 or the 3:30.”

I might have been young, but I wasn’t oblivious to the fact that Chanyeol didn’t want me to tag along. Feeling very much like a burden to their plans, I didn’t want to accept the money Mom forced into my hand despite Sehun’s polite promises to pay for everything.

“I have to go.” She pressed a kiss to the top of my head. “Ride the bus back here, and I’ll find you by the vending machine as soon as I can, and we’ll have cake when we get home, okay? Have fun!”

When I stood, motionless, even after Mom left with Eunhyuk and Donghae, Sehun beckoned me into the hall. “Don’t look so anxious,” he said. He was always kind of bossy. “I’m not going to let you ride the bus alone, so—”

It was always impossible to tell that Sehun was smiling until he started glaring again and the faint upturn of his lips faded. He cut his eyes at Chanyeol. “Would you stop tapping your foot? I’m trying to talk.” Although Sehun’s temper was a bit short, he wasn’t one to raise his voice. Were it not for the arching of his eyebrows, his annoyance wouldn’t have been obvious.

On Chanyeol’s face, however, anyone could read every emotion that passed through his mind. “You’ve talked long enough, haven’t you?” He crossed his arms, muscles taut through the short-cropped sleeves of his shirt. “You talked us right into a non-paying babysitting job, and now we’re going to miss the bus again, and—”

“Go, then.” Sehun gestured lazily toward the door. “Weren’t you listening? Lei has to meet Taeyeon to get her birthday present, so we’ll meet you at the arcade. You’re getting on my nerves anyway.”

Too stubborn to get along with me long enough to appreciate the chance to meet Girls’ Generation, Chanyeol rolled his eyes and stormed out of the building without saying another word.

. . .

“Why aren’t you smiling?” Sehun asked after we boarded the bus and sat side by side. “Even when you opened Taeyeon’s gift, you didn’t smile.”

Staring down at the gift — a dark blue coin purse that mapped out silver constellations, filled with money from Taeyeon and Mom— I shrugged. “Why should I smile?” I grumbled dramatically, tucking the purse into my small bubble gum pink backpack. “I’m about to see Chanyeol, and he can’t stand me.”

“You should smile because it’s your birthday,” Sehun said.

I fixed my gaze out the window, admired the golden sun rays peeking through the clouds, and watched the blooming trees blurring together until Sehun snapped his fingers by my ears. “Hey. Look at me and listen when I talk to you.”

Once I obeyed, looking at him with eyes filled with childish tears, I hoped that his features would soften. He disappointed me, but no wound inflicted by Sehun was ever permanent. “Who cares if Chanyeol likes you?” His voice was as calm as ever.

“I care.” I sounded (and looked) more childish than ever as I pressed my lips in a pout and crossed my arms.

Sehun’s lips twisted in obvious disapproval. “Why?”

I struggled with an answer before admitting, “Everybody likes me. Everybody except Chanyeol.”

Being much stronger and smarter than me in many ways, Sehun sighed, “Chanyeol doesn’t have any reason to dislike you. You haven’t done anything to him, so whatever his problem is— it’s just that— his problem. You’re getting older, so you have to learn one way or another that some people are gonna dislike you, sometimes for no reason. And you can’t shed tears for everyone. You can save yourself a lot of pain if you just believe me on that.”

Sehun never sugar-coated anything and, weirdly, I think that’s why I liked him. After years of being (lovingly) smothered by Super Junior, it was a relief that he never hugged me until my tears stopped like Donghae would have or screamed and threw something (probably punches) at Chanyeol like Yesung would have. I never dreamed that I would eventually crave that kind of emotional response from Sehun.

Following him off the bus, almost running so that I wouldn’t fall too far behind— always chasing after him— I hummed, “You are very wise.” His laughter filled the spring air, and I had to smile even as I wondered, “What’s so funny?”

“It’s just—” he held the mall door open for me— “nobody has ever called me wise before.”

We walked in silence that he eventually broke. “Would you still think that I’m wise if you knew that everything I just told you was based on something Junmyeon said?”

“Junmyeon?” I repeated the name before his face flooded my mind. “Oh, you mean the prince!” I nodded enthusiastically. “He’s very wise, and I think you get some points for remembering what he said well enough to repeat it.”

Sehun, as usual, didn’t appreciate my compliment. “‘The Prince?’” His eyes cut through me, and I gulped to prepare for a scolding. “I told you not to flirt with boys, didn’t I?”

Although it was a waste of breath, I defended myself. “First of all, I thought he looked like a prince before I ever met you and learned that I’m not allowed to think anything nice about any boy ever.” Sehun snorted, but he didn’t quite grin. “Plus, I’m not dumb enough to call him a prince to his face.”

Let the record read that I have only ever been open in my admiration toward one person, and I eventually learned to regret it.

“I’ll let it slide, “Sehun mercifully decided, “because it’s your birthday.” As we stood at the edge of the food court, he asked, “Are you hungry?”

I shook my head, and Sehun raised a skeptical eyebrow. “Are you lying because you don’t want me to spend my money on you?”

As a matter of fact, I was. I shook my head and bit my tongue to maintain the lie because I thought it was the proper thing to do.

“Lei,” Sehun clicked his tongue, “as your senior, I’m supposed to pay your way, so just—”

Outright, I lied, “I’m not hungry.” My stomach betrayed me by loudly growling.

As my face flushed and I tightened my grip around my backpack’s straps, Sehun eyed me suspiciously. “Fine, but you have to promise to tell me when you get hungry, okay?”

While I was mid-way through a nod Chanyeol cheered through a mouthful of blue cotton candy, “There you are! Hey, princess—” he glanced down at me— “do you like cotton candy?” Before I could respond that (obviously) I did, he chuckled, “Why am I even asking? Every kid loves sugar,” and he forced an unopened container of pink cotton candy into my hand.

That was the one kind thing Chanyeol ever did for me. When I opened my mouth to thank him with my embarrassing gappy smile, he looked over me. My stomach dropped with the realization that he hadn’t warmed up to me. My cheeks burned from some kind of humiliation; they always did around Chanyeol.

“Okay,” he told Sehun as if I were invisible, “I gave the kid her cotton candy like you asked. Can we go play that new street racer game now?”

Oh. Dropping a piece of the cherry-flavored cloud onto my tongue, I realized that Sehun must have texted Chanyeol while I was talking to Taeyeon or while we sat on the bus. The only reason why I didn’t notice was that I was always too busy admiring Sehun’s face.

To Chanyeol’s disappointment, Sehun shrugged. “I think Lei should choose what we do, you know, since it’s her birthday.”

I don’t know what Sehun expected me to say when Chanyeol looked at me like that— like he wanted to snatch my candy away to throw the hard plastic container at my head. Although I cast my eyes nowhere in particular, they fell on the Sanrio store, which was bright, colorful, and inviting from afar.

“I don’t mind what we do.” Smiling politely like Mom taught me, I promised Sehun, “I’ll be quiet and watch you play that racing game with Chanyeol.” The thing is, I would have been happy to do just that— that’s how much I liked Sehun.

The belief that I said the right thing abandoned me when Sehun bent to level his face with mine. He shook his head. “Don’t be a pushover, Lei. Don’t let people like Chanyeol—”

“Hey!” Chanyeol yelled. “What is that supposed to mean?”

Sehun didn’t break his attention from me to answer him. “Don’t let people like Chanyeol tell you what to do.”

“Sehun, don’t brainwash that little kid into being as rude, selfish, and disrespectful as you.”

The days of following Yesung had instilled in me a determination to defend those I loved (and that included Sehun), but I didn’t know how to raise my voice without sounding like a toddler throwing a tantrum. Had I trusted myself to speak, I would have screamed at Chanyeol loudly enough for everyone in the mall to hear. As it was, I could only cut my eyes at him.

Catching my glare at his insults, Chanyeol groaned, “Great! Now you have her scowling at me like some kid from a horror movie!” Matching my temper, Chanyeol scowled and thrust an antagonistic finger at me. “Don’t look at people like that! It’s freaky!”

“Hey.” Sehun grabbed my shoulders. His touch forced me to meet his dark eyes. They weren’t as intimidating as you might imagine, but I almost wanted to look away because of the blushing butterflies that fluttered through my entire body. I could never look away, though— not for long anyway. “What do you want to do?”

I didn’t know. First, Chanyeol made me too angry to think clearly. Then, Sehun stole my breath away, so I couldn’t have spoken even if I had known what to say.

Retracing where my gaze had wandered before— to the Sanrio store— Sehun asked, “Do you want to go there? You like Hello Kitty, right?” When I started to answer, he warned, “Don’t lie to me. She’s all over your backpack, so I know you like her.”t

Reddening because I had been planning to lie in a futile effort to discourage Chanyeol’s pointed stare, I mumbled, “Why do you ask questions that you know the answers to?”

Once Sehun stood upright, he towered over me. “I don’t know.” He started walking toward the Sanrio store, and (of course) I followed without hesitation.

Chanyeol refused to follow, though. Glued to his place by the food court, he bellowed, “Waste your day in a little girl store if you want, but I’m not! I’m going home!” I watched Chanyeol, perhaps outraged by Sehun’s indifference, storm away as he had at the S.M. building.

I asked Sehun, “Do you really think Chanyeol is going home?” Minutes had passed, and I was unable to admire the adorable objects lining the shelves because of the guilty writhing in my gut.

It didn’t matter that I didn’t like Chanyeol— I felt bad for ruining his day. What if he had been looking forward to playing that racing game all week? What if he hated me forever for disrupting his weekend plans? No matter what Sehun said, I wanted to be the kind of person everybody— even Chanyeol— liked. I didn’t want to believe that was such an impossible goal.

Sehun breathed, “I don’t know or care.”

Although I admired everything about Sehun, including his ability to always feel (or at least seem) calm, cool, and collected, I didn’t quite want to seem that indifferent. Couldn’t I be strong— resistant to the wind— and kind— bright like the sun? I didn’t know.

I was too young to understand that Sehun, despite seeming cold, was the kind of person I wanted to be: kind and strong. The difference between us has always been that Sehun never cared who misunderstood him. Sehun never cared who liked him. Over time, with age and experience, I would outgrow my craving for approval and admiration. To a fault, I would learn to detest being the object of infatuation; I would struggle to believe in lovesick stares.

But never— never would I stop longing for someone to understand me entirely, supernaturally, beyond words. I would never stop dreaming when I looked up at the moon that one day, someone would find me and accept me in my entirety at a single glance. That dream would haunt me forever.

A word of advice: learn to appreciate yourself. Learn to approve of yourself. Learn to admire yourself. Learn to understand yourself. There is a certain liberty in knowing that others, while they may build you up, cannot determine your worth; do not give others the power to tear you down.

I hope you find that liberty because, in my experience, no person— no collection of people— can ever be enough to fill the voids in an individual spirit. Not only will you live unsatisfied if you try to prove me wrong by searching for someone to fulfill your empty spaces — you may break somebody with the weight of your expectations.

You probably don’t need me to tell you to be careful with your heart; most people have a natural instinct to protect themselves from pain. I’ll tell you anyway, though. And I’ll tell you to be especially careful if somebody is kind enough to trust you with the pieces of the heart they have carried since birth. Nothing— nothing is indestructible. In fact, I’m developing a theory that everything, even what you swear can never break, is fragile.

I’m not encouraging you to live in fear or anything. I just think you should know that everything can break, everything can end, because maybe that will encourage you to appreciate it while it is whole. Maybe that will encourage you to appreciate the story as it unfolds without the bittersweet blessing or curse of hindsight.

Plucking from the self a My Melody plush keychain that fit into the palm of his hand, Sehun declared, “This is cute. Do you want it? I’ll buy it for you.” In his questioning, he turned to face me, and his eyes widened ever so slightly to adjust to my frown. “What’s with that face? Didn’t I tell you to smile?”

I mumbled an apology, shifting from one foot to another as I dropped my backpack at my feet, unzipped it, and packed away the cotton candy I was too nauseated to eat. “I just feel bad that Chanyeol left.”

“Well, don’t.” When his simple advice or instruction failed to lighten my frown, Sehun drew a deep breath and tried to speak softly. It didn’t quite suit him. “I think he’s in the arcade, having a blast playing whatever he wanted to play.”

Regardless of whether Sehun said what he truly thought or what he imagined I wanted to hear, I believed him wholeheartedly and, smiling a small smile, I fixed my bag onto my back.

“Now, do you want this little bunny or not?” He smiled at me. For once, when faint laugh lines formed around his mouth, there was no mistaking his smile. It didn’t quite suit the image of Sehun that I held in my mind, but it suited the image of him that I held in my heart. “If you don’t want it, I’ll just buy it for myself.”

Giggling at the mental picture of handsome Sehun walking around with a pretty pink key chain, I said “We should both get one! I’ll get My Melody because she’s my favorite, and for you I’ll buy Badtz Maru because—” I held the black plush up to Sehun’s face— “you’re twins!”

Narrowing his eyes and stuffing his hands into the pockets of his black hoodie, Sehun transformed into a human identical to the stuffed cartoon penguin. I laughed so hard at their resemblance that I forgot to mask my gap.

“You’ll buy it for me?” Sehun’s eyebrows shot up. I nodded passionately, brushing my bangs into my eyes. “Didn’t you hear me earlier? You need to let your seniors pay your way.”

I didn’t like that advice. Sehun tried to snatch Badtz Maru, but I held him protectively against my chest, arguing. “It’s a birthday present for you, Sehun! You can’t buy your own birthday present!”

Birthday gifts must have been the only exception to Sehun’s rule about always making seniors pay; he didn’t argue about Badtz Maru again.

Although Sehun didn’t seem too happy that a ten year old purchased something from the Sanrio store on his behalf, after he paid for the My Melody plush and a stack of pens, a case to carry them in, and notebooks I promised (lied) that I didn’t want, we sat on a bench outside the shop so he could a.) give me the bag containing my gifts and b.) fasten the Badtz Maru keychain onto the backpack he carried to training everyday.

Staring down into my gift bag, I mumbled, “I don’t think I gave you enough, Sehun." I liked him much more than the worth of a silly keychain.

“Gifts don’t work that way,” Sehun said flatly. “They aren’t a competition.” As if to silence me when I opened my mouth to whine, he smiled again. “Thank you.”

Because my heart jumped into my throat, I couldn’t say ‘You’re welcome,’ even though it was the right thing to say, even though it was all I wanted to say. I only nodded my head and hoped that he understood the gesture through my silence.

Now that I am remembering this, I wonder if he still has that backpack. I wonder if he ever uses it these days. If he does, I wonder how worn it must be today.

I happen to know for a fact that the Badtz Maru keychain is now attached to his key ring all these years later. It’s old and faded and not quite as cute as it once was, but he won’t let me replace it.

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