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beyondspaceandstars · 3 years

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While You Sleep

Chapter 10

Relationship: Bucky Barnes x Reader Warnings: SMUT, NSFW penetrative sex, dirty talk, fingering - 18+, minors dni Summary: Soulmate!AU - Throughout life, you’re given glimpses of your soulmate through dreams. As you sleep, memories flash in your mind showing you the life your soulmate has lived. Everyone around you raves about how their soulmate reads great books or volunteers in their spare time. But you can’t relate as your dreams end up being more like nightmares. Through initial images of death and violence, you come to learn your soulmate is the Winter Soldier.

(a/n: if smut is not your cup of tea please skip to the page break [denoted by the ***] b/c the little pillow talk afterwards relates to the overall story!)

Masterlist | Series Masterlist

Your head was absolutely spinning as you returned the kiss as passionately and strongly as Bucky had started it. Your lips molded together as if made for one another - but that’s right, they technically were, and suddenly it felt like everything had aligned. Like Fate herself had succeeded.

Your hand came up to Bucky’s jaw, caressing gently as he hummed into the kiss. His arms were locked securely around your waist. He pulled you into him as if you two could get any closer.

But then he broke the kiss suddenly, letting you two gasp for air. Although, there wasn’t really a moment to compose yourself. Just as fast as he kissed you, his lips now found their place on your neck. He nipped and sucked at your soft skin.

“You know,” you gasped as his lips continued their pleasant assault on your neck, “I don’t normally sleep with people after only the second date.”

Bucky chuckled, lowly. Dangerously. “You can’t make an exception for your soulmate?”

You couldn’t help but moan from the way the word tumbled off his lips so perfectly. “Say that again.”

“What?” He chuckled, playing dumb. “Soulmate?” You shyly nodded.

“Come one, make an exception for me, doll,” he whispered as his hand traveled to the back of your thigh. “Let your soulmate make you feel good.”

That, for some reason, was just right for you. “Bucky…” you sighed as his hand began making its way higher, just skimming the bottom of your dress. Instinctively, you ground your hips into his, already feeling his hard-on forming.

You thought you were getting somewhere as his hand was now gripping your thigh, sure enough to leave bruises, but then all his actions stopped. His lips left your neck, letting the cool air hit the now raw and damp skin. Your jaw dropped, ready to protest, but he spoke before you had the chance.

“Our first time is not going to be in the kitchen,” Bucky said.

“Then point me to the bedroom because I don’t know how much longer I can stand here before I combust.”

Bucky just playfully rolled his eyes before doing something even more unexpected: he picked you up like you were the weight of paper and threw you over his shoulder. You squealed in surprise while he just laughed and began walking down to an off-shoot room from the main area. Next thing you know, you’re being draped gently across his bed.

Bucky hovered, hands on either side of you. His lust-filled eyes raked over you, taking in the sight of your ruffled dress and braided hair. Both would be severely messed up in a short amount of time but for now, he just seemed to be enjoying seeing you in his bed. A soulmate in their soulmate’s bed. It didn’t feel real.

“Are you okay?” You whispered, placing your hand on his bicep, trying to coax him out of whatever thoughts were bombarding his brain. His sudden silence had made you a bit nervous thinking everything was going to dissolve.

But Bucky nodded and said, “I can’t get over how gorgeous you look here, in my bed. Like this is where you belong.”

Everything was suddenly on fire for you. From the desire pooling with you to the heat of his words… You didn’t know what else to do but throw your arms around his neck and pull him in for another kiss. While your first kiss was hot and heavy, this was slow and passionate. You had never touched like this nor had you been touched like this. Everything was so raw and significant.

As your lips work, so did Bucky’s hands. You felt fingers gliding up your dress, slowly pushing it up until your panties were exposed. You didn’t even have time to worry about the fact they weren’t the fanciest piece you owned before Bucky was pushing them to the side and inserting one finger. He groaned against your lips at the wetness now coating his hand.

“You’re soaking, sweetheart,” Bucky broke the kiss to moan, his finger pumping in a steady rhythm. “Feel so good already. Can’t wait to feel you around my cock.”

His words went straight to your core, surprising you slightly that this bold Bucky was hiding under that timid man you just met a week ago.

“Bucky, please,” you groaned, bucking your hips for him to speed up. He just chuckled and gripped your hip with his metal arm, forcing you down. You gasped at the feeling of the cool material on your hot skin.

Bucky suddenly added a second finger, picking up his motions as his thumb came up to rub your clit. “Just a second, doll. Be a good girl and cum on my fingers first.”

You couldn’t verbally respond. All you could do was nod your head, your eyes fluttering as your orgasm built and built in you. Bucky’s motions picked up and the pressure on your clit intensified. His lips found their way to your neck again and for some reason, this entire combination was the hottest thing. You let go, squirming and whimpering as your orgasm engulfed you. Bucky worked you through it, his fingers not faltering. You whispered his name over and over before you even began coming down from the high.

When your breathing got back to normal, Bucky removed his fingers, making you whimper just slightly at the loss of contact. He chuckled, feeling his hot breath hitting your neck. “You sound so pretty when you come.” A kiss. “I can’t wait to hear it again.”

Without much warning, realizing Bucky is quite the spontaneous man when he wanted to be, he pulled your panties down and undid the front of his dress pants. You felt his hard cock spring free against your thigh. You moaned at the feeling and bucked your hips again, silently begging for him to hurry along. The strength of his metal arm came into play again, as he forced your hips back down. A bruise was sure to form but that was the last of your worries. You just needed to feel him.

“So impatient,” Bucky tsked. He began pumping his cock a few times then lined up with your entrance. He didn’t push it yet as if wanting to torture you again.

You rolled your eyes, “I’m impatient? You couldn’t even wait until we were undressed.”

“Next time,” he said and entered you in one swift motion. The connection was felt in every inch of you, the sensation and passion of it all. Your back arched as he filled you gloriously. Head thrown back, eyes shut, you let out a loud moan.

Bucky let out a low chuckle before reconnecting your lips. He moved in and out of you in such a wonderful rhythm. You had never felt so full.

“Bucky…” His name was all you could muster up anymore but that seemed to please him just well.

“That’s it, doll,” he whispered. “Let this whole apartment building know who’s making you feel good.” He pulled up then slammed back into you. “Let them know it’s me, your soulmate, making you go all dumb from pleasure.”

You groaned at his dirty talk, the words sinking to your core in just the right ways. Your hands found their way to his neck and back, gripping and tugging at the skin and material. He kept his motions as your mind went dizzy from the feeling.

“B-Bucky-,” you moaned, quite loudly. He felt you begin to tighten around him.

Bucky chuckled again, “You gonna cum, doll? Gonna cum again for me?”

You nodded, unable to form many words anymore. Bucky didn’t mind, still pulling all the way out then rushing back in.

“S-So deep…” you sighed, tightening his grip on you.

He hummed, quite pleased with himself. “Almost there, doll, right?” You nodded and it was the truth. You were one second away from erupting in his arms. “That’s right, sweetheart. Cum for your soulmate.”

The word was too much for you and you were almost — just almost — ashamed at how it made you cum right then and there. Your second orgasm ran through you making you twist and turn, hips bucking up to Bucky’s, as you let the sensation flow through you. Bucky didn’t stop his movement, just faltered them slightly, working you through it and chasing his own. He wasn’t too far behind you, almost immediately filling you up gloriously with his seed. He groaned deeply in your ear as he released making you squeal.

Bucky sighed contently, looking down at your fucked out state. Your eyes were just barely still opened, brain overwhelmed and spinning by the intensity of your lover. He moved his hips one last time just to hear your little squeals of protests in overstimulation before chuckling and pulling out. Warmness leaked out of you and onto the sheets but you were too wrapped up in the previous events to really care.

Bucky now laid on his side next to you, arm propped up watching you. He had a silly, goofy smile on his face. You gave a small smile in return, feeling warm again under his dreamy gaze.

***

“You okay, doll?” Bucky chuckled.

You rolled your eyes, moving up more towards his pillows and finding a discarded blanket to pull around you. Despite the prior actions, a bit of nervousness was coming over you again. “I’m just fine.”

“Just fine?”

“More than fine,” you sighed. “Complete.”

“Complete?” He asked. You hadn’t expected his pillow talk to be a round of twenty questions.

You shrugged. “I don’t know how else to describe it.”

Bucky studied you for a moment before nodding. “I understand.”

And you knew he did. You had felt it in the movements and passion that seeped through both of you as you finally gave yourselves to one another. Fate played such tricky games, you thought.

But a new thought suddenly came over you as the excitement of your orgasm drifted away. While you felt you knew so much about the man who had just been inside you, you were worried you also knew too little. It was only the second date, your anxiety reminded you. And now you were looking at each other like this was your entire world.

“Bucky,” you broke the silence, “what do you do for a living?”

He looked at you, quite stunned at the sudden shift in tone. Whatever it was, you knew he felt some movement with you, thanks to the soulmate attachment.

“I work with Steve on the... team.”

“So, you are an Avenger?” Internet searches had been all over that place on that, you remembered from your first virtual hunt.

Bucky’s lip formed a tight line as if confirming or denying would be a curse. “I don’t consider myself that.”

You frowned, “Why not?” Maybe this was suddenly going off the rails. You were going for light get-to-know-one-another conversation, like, a date, but somewhere a nerve was struck.

He sighed, then looked away from you. “You know, doll,” he let out a humorless chuckle, “this is some heavy pillow talk.”

A master of sidestepping. Your heart began pounding at the words. “I-I’m sorry,” you said. “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable, I just…. I just wanted to get to know you better.”

“Do you feel like we’re strangers?”

You signed, defeated. “I-I guess yes and no. You’ve been a part of me for so long but it’s also been... I don’t think I can describe it, but what’s new, right? I think this bond and our… our actions tonight are going to my head.”

Bucky didn’t say anything as he threw his arm around you, pulling you tightly into him. His hand rubbed your back soothingly. You melted into his touch, face pressed into the crook of his neck.

“Look,” Bucky began, “I get it, trust me, I know it’s a lot.” He sighed. “But I also believe if we do what feels right to us, we’ll be on the right path. You gotta remember, doll, in some ways, we’re it for each other. This has to make sense on some level.”

You didn’t know what to make of Bucky’s words. You felt them, you understood them, but you also were just reeling in from tonight. You didn’t want him to think you were having post-sex regrets but you also felt drunk on the sensations. And you couldn’t turn it off.

But you didn’t say any of this, you just nodded. “I understand, Bucky.”

He rubbed your back in acknowledgment. Master of trying to change subjects, he said next, “So, do I get to ask you now about your career?”

You let out a weak giggle. “I guess so.”

“Did you always dream of serving coffee?”

“No,” you shook your head. “It just landed in my lap after a not-so-successful college stunt. But I’ve made it work and, really, if I hadn’t kept it, I never would’ve met Steve.” A light bulb went off. “Then I never would’ve found you.”

Bucky’s grip on you tightened at your words. You could practically hear his heart pounding out of his chest. His hold on you felt so right, so at home, you realized as a little tug fell on your heart after your admission.

“Never thought I’d be genuinely thankful for coffee.”

You gave a small laugh at that and got comfier in Bucky’s arms. Eventually, you two drifted off to sleep, totally engrossed in the feeling of one another. A feeling much more innocent, but just as strong.

That night, as Bucky held you like you were his last lifeline in this world, you had no nightmares. It was like they didn’t even dare to come back. This gave you just the bloom of hope that everything was indeed falling into place as all makers of fate had intended.

The dream was like a soothing lullaby. You were treated to a scene of Bucky shopping. He seemed to be at some fruit stand, picking out produce. The feelings were a bit odd, more like he was lost yet focused in the moment. But they were much milder, much more welcoming, than anything else from the past images. You accepted it. Took it in greatly. As you slept, you felt you two got closer. You heard Bucky at one point sigh in content.

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes fluff #the winter soldier #smut #mcu #mcu fic #marvel fanfiction #marvel #fanfiction #fanfic #avengers #writing*#soulmate au

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soobmint · 3 years

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when the ice begins to thaw | kang taehyun [f] ice prince! au, 10.4k words

s u m m a r y : The rumors of the Ice Prince, Kang Taehyun, that run throughout the kingdom of Glacies are nothing short of terrifying. Known as a spoiled boy who does nothing but take advantage of the horrors bestowed upon the kingdom by his grandfather, the late king, Taehyun is feared and despised by nearly all of his subjects. When you decide to take matters into your own hands as the kingdom’s greatest thief by plotting to steal the crown that harnesses the prince’s unjustly earned powers, you are surprised to find out that perhaps the Ice Prince is not exactly who everyone fears him to be.

c o n t e n t s : kang taehyun x fem reader, ice prince! taehyun, thief! reader, lots and lots of fluff, very mild angst, features enhypen’s 02 line!!

t a g l i s t : @honeyju @chanluster @tyonfs @magicalstellar

n o t e : this oneshot is my contribution to the five princes collaboration! you can find the masterlist for the collab here. check out the other participants’ blogs too! [ @bffsoobin, @juunnies, @honeyju, @gyuluster ]. this was a lot of fun to write and i hope you guys enjoy it!

FOR SOMEONE WHO WAS THOUGHT TO BE THE GREATEST THIEF AROUND, YOU WEREN’T VERY QUICK ON YOUR FEET.

It had been nearly half an hour since you had set your way across the icy bridge that led to the palace, nothing but the cloak of night to conceal you and your companions. You had studied the palace’s floor plan for months leading up to your mission, but for some reason, during all that time you hadn’t really thought of how difficult it would be to cross this god forsaken bridge. Your feet nearly came out from under you with every step you took, and it was so narrow that the four of you had to walk in a single file line.

Speaking of your companions, the three boys that accompanied you were proving to be an obstacle to your success all on their own.

“Jake, you have to keep up.”

You turned to see Jay, your self-proclaimed “second-in-command,” pulling Jake along by the wrist. The former liked to brag and say that he was among the most elite group in the village, boasting a great air of bravery and courage. However, now that he was actually in the face of danger, he seemed to be the most cowardly out of them all. Sunghoon, the brains of the operation, held up the rear of the group, shaking his head in exasperation at his companions.

You sighed, bringing the group to a halt as you turned to face them, arms crossed over your chest. “I don’t feel as though I should have to remind you, boys, but we’re not here to play,” You said, giving Jake and Jay the heat of your glare. “Jake, if you’re too scared to help out, I suggest you back out now before it’s too late. Oh, and Jay, leave the leading to me, would you?”

While Jay mimicked your voice in the most obnoxious way possible, no doubt completely disregarding what you had just asked of him, Jake ripped his arm free of Jay’s grasp and puffed up his chest. “Me, scared? Oh please, Y/N. I’m flattered that you think about me enough to care, but you’re looking at one of Glacies’ greatest rising legends! The future generations will tell stories about me, no doubt.” He threw you a careless wink, and you had to fight back the impulse to cackle out loud at how ridiculous he looked. “And you’ll get to say you had the pleasure of knowing me. Or perhaps even the pleasure of having courted me as well?”

From where he stood behind him, Sunghoon smacked the back of Jake’s head. That seemed to be enough to shut him up nicely.

“Anyways,” You continued, “We’re losing moonlight. I needn’t remind you of the fact that if we don’t make it out of here with the crown tonight, we’ll likely never get to see justice restored to our kingdom. Understood?”

“Perfectly,” Jay said, his voice strained in forced submission to your authority. You merely rolled your eyes—you were quite used to him and his attitude after spending nearly your entire life with him and the other two that accompanied you.

“She’s right, you know.” Sunghoon spoke for the first time since the four of you had set out on your assignment. You began to move forward again, the rest of the group following close behind. “The palace security is weaker tonight because the crown prince sent an assembly of guards to accompany the prince of Regna Terrae back to his home. The odds of us finding another gap in security like this are—”

“Incredibly slim, yes, we know,” Jake said. “You’ve only told us about twelve dozen times.”

“Maybe if I thought you were actually listening to me, I wouldn’t feel the need to repeat myself so often.”

“Well maybe if you weren’t such a pain in my—”

“Shh.” You held up your hand as you came to a stop again, after having finally set foot off the slippery bridge and onto the snow-covered walkway that led to the huge gates made of solid ice. Some might have tried to simply break through the ice to earn entry to the palace, but you knew better.

This was no regular formation of ice—it was ice forged by the crown’s magic.

You looked around for any sign of stray guards. If your team’s predictions had been correct, the guards would have been switching their stations at this time. You had approximately four minutes and fifty-three seconds to get through the gates before the rotation was settled, so there was no time to lose.

You glanced behind you, noticing that the boys had all replaced their teasing and playful mannerisms with serious gazes hardened by determination. With a single nod from you, everything was set into motion. Jay handed you the rope and hook from his bag, and you wasted no time in tossing it over the gate, pulling it tightly until you were certain that it had successfully latched onto the top. Jake knelt in front of you, folding his hands before extending them towards you. You placed your foot in his hands, waiting for him to give you a boost.

“Are you sure you can do this by yourself?” He asked.

“Yes, I’m positive,” You assured him. “You guys need to head to the far side of the wall and wait for me there. Sunghoon knows what to do if I’m in danger, but everything will be fine. Now hurry up and boost me.”

After a moment longer of hesitation, Jake thrusted his hands up while you jumped up at the same time, reaching out to grab the rope while you planted your feet against the icy gate. You let out a tiny sigh of relief when your feet didn’t slide off or cause you to fall—the boots that Sunghoon had designed to grip the ice were proving to be just as effective as he had claimed. You pulled yourself up the rope, moving as quickly as possible without letting your feet slip.

You soon found yourself perched at the top of the gate, your huff of relief turning into a cloud in the cold air. The view was nothing short of magnificent; fountains with frozen displays of various animals and flora, a grove of trees painted blue with ice and frost, and the castle. If you had the leisure to simply stop and observe the spiraling towers made of crystal ice, the beautiful clouds of eternal snow that remained stationary above the palace, the giant snowflake patterns that were imprinted along each outer wall, you would have stayed there just looking for ages.

But you knew that sightseeing was not on your agenda. When you glanced over your shoulder, you were happy to see that the boys had already left for their station, leaving you on your own. It took you no time to spring into action. You jumped down from the top of the gate, the impact of hitting the ground sending an echo of pain up your legs and to your core, but you quickly shook it off and sprinted towards the outer wall of one of the towers. Your informant from within the palace had sent word that the window you were about to climb into was the best place of entry. It was in a distant hallway that was close enough to the throne room for you to have easy access to the crown, but far enough away from where the guards were stationed that the chance of them being alerted to your entry was small.

You threw your grappling hook up again, this time latching it on the sill of the open window. Without Jake’s boost, it took you a bit longer to climb the rope, but you were no amateur when it came to breaking and entering. Soon enough, you had dropped down into the stairway that lied beyond the window, thanking your lucky stars yet again for Sunghoon and his slip-proof boots.

Your footsteps echoed throughout the walls of ice, and you bit the inside of your cheek, taking care to make your steps as soft as possible. The past months, you had done practically nothing aside from memorize the floorplan of the palace, but you couldn’t help how nervous you were beginning to feel. This was nothing like when you snuck into the kitchen at the local tavern to snatch some food for the hungry kids, or when you broke into the overstock building for the tailors to grab a few winter coats for those who needed them.

This was the castle, and you were there to steal the crown. Not just for your own good, but for the good of everyone else in the Kingdom of Glacies.

When you finally reached the throne room, your heart was practically in your throat. Typically the cool headed one of your band of thieves, this feeling of pure anxiety was something new to you. With a shaky breath to calm your nerves, you peeked around the corner to take a look at what awaited you in the throne room.

There were two thrones at the far end of the room, made of spiraling ice spires and decorated with intricately detailed snowflakes that would never melt. One was a bit taller than the other—the King’s throne, no doubt—while the other didn’t reach quite as high in the air, but that didn’t make it any less marvelous of a sight to behold. The real piece of beauty in the dimly lit room of ice, however, was the pedestal that sat just between the two thrones which held the giant, sparkling crown made of ice and snow.

It was the King’s crown; the bane of every Glacian’s existence. And it just so happened to be what you planned to walk out of the palace with that night.

Stationed right in front of the crown, two guards stood, frozen just like the pillars of ice throughout the room. You bit your lip, growing increasingly worried as you waited for your cue to move in towards the crown.

“Argh! You’ll never catch me, you scum!”

Never before had you wanted to sock Jake in the face so badly as you did in that moment. He had been instructed to create a diversion, but it sounded more like he was a pirate from the Kingdom of Nymphe. His shouts spilled in through the open window right behind the thrones, filling the otherwise silent palace with his voice. If you could have trusted that Sunghoon would have been loud enough to even be heard, you would have asked him to do it instead. He was the only one who even pretended to listen to you.

“What’s that? You think you can chase me down? With those skinny legs? Ha!”

There was a loud bang, and you decided in that moment that when you got back to your village, you would kick Jake out of your team and encourage him to join the theatrics group instead of pursuing this line of work. Not because he was a good or compelling actor, but because he was so outlandishly obnoxious that he would fit right in.

The guards glanced at one another, but neither of them moved from their stations. They probably assumed—or hoped—that someone else would be taking care of the lunatic outside.

Until they heard Jake shout, “Take that!” which was followed by a large crash, and another slew of empty threats. The guards quickly ran out one of the back entrances of the throne room, finally giving you your chance to move forward.

You were light on your feet, not even making a sound as you dashed across the iced floor. With one leap, you skipped up the few steps that led to the crown. It was even more stunning close up, just as alluring as all the stories surrounding it had claimed. Blue jewels frosted over were embedded in the crown, which was made of solid ice, just like the palace that it sat in. The most mesmerizing part about it, however, was the flurry of never-ending snow that surrounded it, as though it were a part of its own atmosphere, separate from the rest of the world.

Your heart stormed within your chest, and you thought it might burst right out of you. Everything you had prepared for had led to this moment, but now that it was finally here, you were beyond terrified. But you were ready.

You stretched your hands out towards the crown, but before you could even feel its icy surface beneath your gloved hands, you felt someone’s body press flush against yours from behind, one arm holding you around your shoulders, and the other pressing the edge of an ice dagger against your throat.

Heart in your stomach, you were silent for a few moments. Someone had caught you. It was over. It was all over. You prayed that Jake, Jay, and Sunghoon had gotten away safely, that only you would have to pay the price for trying to seek justice for your kingdom.

You had practically written your own eulogy in your head when you heard the person speak, their breath tickling the back of your neck as they tightened the ice cold grip they had on you.

“You know, it is wrong to take something that isn’t yours.”

A man’s voice. You could tell right away, and his words made your blood boil. Perhaps you should have bitten your tongue, but you couldn’t keep the venomous words from leaving your mouth.

“It’s not wrong to take back something that was yours to begin with, is it?”

“I’m afraid I’m a bit lost. Does this crown belong to you?”

“It doesn’t just belong to me,” You seethed, “It belongs to every single Glacian, those alive and those who have passed, and I’m here to take it back.”

With that, you quickly snatched the knife from the man’s hand and spun around, pressing the blade against his throat this time, grabbing onto the front of his shirt to hold him in place.

When you saw his face, you knew you were a goner for sure.

Piercing blue eyes, a sharp jawline, blonde hair so light, it was almost white. His skin seemed to be made of ice, and his lips were set in an amused grin, one of his perfectly shaped brows arched upward.

You were holding the edge of a dagger against the neck of Kang Taehyun, the Ice Prince himself.

With the simple flick of his wrist, the dagger in your hand dissolved into snow, falling from your grasp in an instant.

His eyes drew you in and he held you with his gaze; frozen, unable to move, a fistful of his white sleepshirt still held within your fist. Your imagination began to run wild as you tried to predict what would happen next. Based off of what you had heard about the prince, you expected him to turn you to ice right then and there, perhaps preserving you in his room full of iced prisoners that he was rumored to have, or maybe he would just shatter you to bits and pieces right away, like a glass smashed against a stone floor.

You decided to take your last shot at doing what you had gone there to do.

You quickly shook yourself from the prince’s grip, pushing him back onto the icy floor. When he no longer had a hold on you, you lunged towards the crown, hearing Taehyun shout, “Wait!” before the tips of your fingers barely touched one of the crown’s jewels. When you made contact with the crown, you felt a sharp pain in your neck, and with great force, you were thrown back onto the ice, landing right next to the prince himself.

The pain was spreading from your neck to the rest of your body, like frost creeping up blades of grass. You pressed your hand against your neck and couldn’t hold back a gasp when you saw blood covering your palm.

Before you knew it, Taehyun was leaning over you, gently cupping your neck in his hands. You closed your eyes, certain that he was about to strangle you for your vain attempt at destroying the crown. His fingers were like icicles against your skin; smooth, strong, and deathly cold.

But he didn’t strangle you. He didn’t even squeeze your neck or try to block your airways at all. Instead, he lightly brushed his cold fingers over your skin. As he did so, you could feel the pain melt from your body.

“There you go,” He said softly. He helped you back to your feet, and you opened your eyes, pressing your hand against the place where your wound had been just moments before. There was not a trace of blood left in sight.

“What was that?” You whispered, holding Taehyun’s gaze.

Before he could answer, you heard three familiar voices fill the chilly throne room. With eyes round as saucers, you peeked over the Prince’s shoulder to see Sunghoon, Jake, and Jay being dragged in by not one, two, or even three—but five palace guards. Where said guards had even come from, you had not a clue.

There was, however, one thing you knew for sure: your plan had failed, and the price of failure was going to be your life.

Or at least, you thought it would be, before the prince saved you.

You swallowed, wishing that you could have at least seen your companions walk free. This whole mission was your idea, after all. You alone should have been held responsible for the failure. Heart racing, you grasped at endless threads of half-strung ideas that wove in and out of your mind, trying desperately to figure out some way to save the boys.

“Please,” you said, your eyes meeting Taehyun’s, “Let them go. I drug them here; they have nothing to do with this. You can turn me to ice, kill me, do whatever it is that you desire. Just let them go, please.”

“Y/N, don’t,” Sunghoon said firmly, but you ignored him, keeping your eyes fixated on the prince.

Taehyun’s eyes softened, his brows knitting together, almost as if he were hurt by your pleas. He was being just as cautious as you were—perhaps even more so. “I have no intentions of harming you or your friends, my lady. In fact, the desires of my heart are quite the opposite of what you assume them to be.”

You raised a brow. “Please, enlighten me of your true intentions then, Ice Prince.”

“I want to help you.”

“Oh, come on,” Jay groaned. You shot a glare that would freeze any normal man, but alas, Jay was far from normal, so he continued to speak. “Y/N, don’t listen to a word this prick says. If he wanted to help his people, he would have done so by now.”

Although you wanted to cut out his tongue from how annoyed you were by Jay’s habit to speak up during the most inappropriate times, you knew that your friend had a point. The people of Glacies had been driven to desolation and poverty by the late king’s actions, while in your eyes, the rest of the royal family did nothing but sit idly by and watch it all happen.

But you had just seen a side of the prince that was entirely different from every story you had ever been told about him. When your life was on the line, he didn’t kill you or laugh mercilessly as he watched the life leave your body. He had saved you.

Taehyun turned to face your friends, and you felt your heart leap into your throat. The prince motioned for the guards to release their holds on your friends. They did as they were told, and the three boys were much too shocked by Taehyun’s instructions to do anything but stand there, frozen, keeping their eyes glued to the prince as he spoke once more.

“I understand why you’re here,” He said, glancing over his shoulder at the crown. He locked eyes with you for a split second before he looked back at the boys. “I want the same thing you do. But I’m afraid that there’s no way for you to achieve your goal by simply taking the crown. It’s far more complicated.”

“What do you mean you ‘want the same thing’ we do?” Jake finally spoke after regaining some sensibility—though he never had all that much to begin with, in your opinion. “Do you even truly know what we are here for?”

“You want to destroy the crown and restore the kingdom to its former state of balance,” Taehyun said. “Am I correct?”

“It’s not just that,” Sunghoon finally spoke up, his cool, calculating eyes drifting between you and Taehyun, as if he expected the prince to turn around and attack you at any given moment. “We want to undo all the pain and suffering your family has caused us. Do you even know how desolate your people have become while you’ve wasted away in your palace for the past two decades, Your Highness?”

Taehyun frowned, casting his eyes down to his feet. “I’m well aware. I know it may not look like it, but I’ve been doing everything I can to help reverse the pain my family has caused our kingdom. But I realized that I can’t do it alone.”

He turned to face you then, and you were surprised to find yourself drawn to his piercing eyes rather than being struck down by fear. His gaze was urgent, but it was gentle.

“I need you to help me.”

“No. Absolutely not.” You tore your eyes from Taehyun to glare at Jake, who had decided once again to speak out of turn. “Y/N, you can’t trust him! Don’t do it.”

You knew where Jake was coming from, but you couldn’t help but feel as though Taehyun was telling the truth. And even if the prince were lying, you would probably never have the chance to get this close to the crown again. Even then, it was clearly impossible for you to touch the crown, as you had nearly died trying to do so just moments before.

You had no choice. You were going to stay with Taehyun.

“I just have one condition,” You said, ignoring the objections that flew from the lips of your friends. “You let them go. Now.”

“Of course,” Taehyun said without a moment’s hesitation. “I have no intentions of keeping anyone here against their will. Yourself included. But if you truly want to destroy the crown, I need you to stay with me. Just for a few days.”

You nodded, keeping your eyes trained on his. “Alright. But the moment I sense that you’re lying to me, Your Highness, not even the four princes of the surrounding kingdoms will be able to save you from my wrath. Understood?”

Perhaps you were just seeing things, but you could have sworn that you saw the prince smile when he said, “Perfectly.”

WHEN YOU WOKE UP THE NEXT MORNING, THERE WAS A NOTE ON YOUR BEDSIDE TABLE.

Well, it wasn’t your bedside table, but rather the one in the bedroom Taehyun had lent to you for the duration of your stay. The night before, against all their complaints, you had sent Jake, Jay, and Sunghoon back to the village with instructions to search for you if you didn’t return in a week’s time. After they had left, you wanted to talk to Taehyun right away, but he had disappeared from your sight, leaving you with a guard who said that the Prince had gone to bed, and that you were encouraged to do so as well.

You stretched your arms above your head, squinting in the morning sunlight that slipped through the curtains, and picked up the note from the table.

I hope you found the room suitable for resting. When you wake, put something on from the closet in your room then come to the dining hall for breakfast, if you’d like. One of the maids will escort you there.

—Taehyun

You sighed, folding the note up and setting it back on the table. After another good stretch, your feet met the cold floor and you slumped over to the large closet, throwing the doors open. Your eyes were met with dresses in varying lengths and shades of blues and periwinkles, and shoes to match them all. A great sigh left you at the sight—you did not wear dresses. But the pants and shirt you had come to the palace in were caked with mud and sweat, so you had no choice but to change, and it wasn’t like you had many options.

Begrudgingly, you searched through all the hanging gowns, finally settling on a long sleeved, ankle-length frosty blue dress made of lace that held subtle snowflake patterns throughout the skirt. It was the most practical looking one amidst all the others, but you still found yourself already growing annoyed at the lack of freedom you felt in the skirt. You put on the pair of shoes that went along with the gown and stopped by the mirror, running your hands through your tangled hair before you finally stepped out of the bedroom.

A maid was waiting outside the door, just as Taehyun had said she would be. You followed her down the stairs of ice, hugging your arms across your chest as you shivered from the cold.

“I know this is the Ice Prince’s palace, but does it have to be so cold?” You asked, your teeth chattering. There was no response from the maid as you went down the last flight of stairs and found yourself walking into a large dining room, with a glass table in the center of the room and a dozen chairs surrounding it. The floor was frosted over, and snowflakes fell from the ceiling, though they melted away as soon as they hit the floor. Only the seat at the head of the table was occupied—Taehyun sat there, dressed nicely in a dark blue suit, his hair parted neatly to the side. He smiled when he saw you, motioning for you to take the seat beside of him.

You sat down slowly, taking great care to cross your legs so you didn’t accidentally expose too much of yourself. Taehyun eyed you curiously as you reached for the cup of tea that a servant had sat down for you.

“Correct me if I’m wrong, but you seem to be a little bit uncomfortable,” He said, sliding a plate of fruits and breakfast pastries towards you. You accepted them gratefully, noticing just how hungry you were now that you could smell food. “Is it because of the dress?”

You nodded, swallowing the grape you had tossed into your mouth before responding. “Dresses were not meant to be worn by thieves, Your Highness.”

He hummed, leaning back in his chair. “I’m not sure if I would classify you as a thief, my lady. I personally find the term ‘vigilante’ more suitable.”

You paused, the piece of chocolate bread that you had pinched off frozen halfway to your mouth. You set it down, narrowing your eyes at Taehyun. “What do you know about me?”

He smiled, taking a sip from his own teacup. “I know what I’ve heard. You are Y/N, the greatest thief throughout all of Glacies—some would even say throughout all the Five Kingdoms. You know this kingdom like the palm of your hand, and you’re extremely good at not getting caught. Unless, of course, you find yourself in my home.”

You scowled, looking away from him as your cheeks grew warm.

He laughed for a moment, but his tone grew quieter when he spoke again. “I also know that you almost never steal for self-gain. You take for yourself what is necessary for survival, but the rest of your plunders go to the starving and impoverished people of our kingdom. You take from those who have more than enough and give to those who having nothing at all.”

To say you were speechless would have been an understatement. You were under the impression that the prince despised his people, just as his father and grandfather had before him. But now you were to believe that he knew of your existence, long before you had even made an attempt to steal the crown?

You poked at the food on your plate, your appetite suddenly gone as your mind churned with questions.

“Well, since you seem to know so much about me, allow me to inquire about yourself, Your Highness,” you said, setting your fork down and folding your hands in your lap.

He nodded with unabashed enthusiasm, scooting forward in his seat. “Of course. Ask me anything.”

You held up three fingers. “I have three questions. One—what happened when I tried to touch the crown last night?”

“Ah,” he said, tapping his fingers against the table. “Well, as you’re well aware, my grandfather channeled all of the kingdom’s magic into that crown. It’s the most powerful object throughout all the kingdom.”

“Yes, that’s why I’m here.”

He nodded, pressing his lips together. “Well, when my grandfather had the great spell cast upon the crown, it also came with a protective curse. Only those with royal blood flowing through their veins are able to touch the crown, and anyone else who attempts to do so . . . well.” He gestured to your neck, where the magic cut had sliced through your skin. “You saw what happens.”

“And you have healing powers, apparently,” you said, running your hands against the smooth skin of your neck, double checking just to make sure that no trace of the injury was left there.

“Not exactly. Because all of the kingdom’s magic is held within the crown, I have access to all the ice magic in the kingdom,” Taehyun explained. “Healing just happens to be one of those powers, among ice manipulation, the ability to turn things into ice, control of the snowstorms, the power to generate snowstorms, the power to plant things in frozen ground. . . you get the picture, I assume. Because of the overwhelming amount of capabilities I’ve been granted due to my grandfather’s spell, I’m not sure what my actual ability is.”

You nodded once, slowly, trying to keep up with the influx of information. You put one of your fingers down, then said, “Question two. I know you’re the Ice Prince, but why in all the five kingdoms is it absolutely freezing in here? Can’t we start a fire or something for a bit of warmth?”

Taehyun laughed, although you struggled to see what was so funny as a shiver went up your spine. “Another lovely perk of the crown’s magic; because my entire being is so reliant upon its powers, I’m quite weak on my own. My body temperature can’t go above a certain degree, or I’ll perish. So I’m afraid we must keep it quite cold in here for the time being.”

“It seems like this crown is doing you more harm than good,” You muttered, slightly disappointed by his answer as you were hoping to garner a bit of extra warmth. You shook it off, putting another finger down and leaving only one remaining up in the air. “Last question. Why do you want to help us, and why am I the right person to help you?”

“That’s two questions in one, isn’t it?”

You rolled your eyes, and Taehyun quickly wiped the teasing smirk off his face, his expression growing grim as he prepared to answer your final question—or questions, as the prince had been so kind to point out.

“I know it doesn’t compare to the pain that the rest of our people have gone through—yourself included—but the crown’s spell has done more harm than good for my family as well,” Taehyun said.

“How so?” You asked.

“As I explained before, those of us with royal blood are incredibly reliant upon the crown,” he began. “Because of this, we aren’t able to be far from it, or we become incredibly weak, and eventually, we will die.”

Your eyes went wide at that, your mind racing. You hadn’t thought of the possibility that the crown could be harming the royal family at all, especially not in such a deadly way. “So, have you never left the palace?”

He shook his head, looking down at his hands. “Not even once.” He sighed, bringing his eyes back up to yours. “My sister left us, a few years after my grandfather died and a few years before my father passed. She fell in love with the stable boy, and they decided to run away. At the time, we knew that we would become weak without the crown. But we didn’t know how weak we would be. Two weeks after their great escape, the stable boy returned. And my sister. . . she was dead. My father had the stable boy put to death immediately upon his return.”

You covered your mouth with your hand, stifling the gasp that threatened to slip past your lips. The royal family was so isolated from the rest of the kingdom, that none of you had even heard of the princess’ passing.

“So then, you’ve been alone all this time, since your father passed?” You asked, your voice quiet and careful.

He nodded, his eyes shining with tears that never fell. “Correct. And that is why, now more than ever, I want to reconnect with the people my family has driven to desolation. I know how harmful it has been for our kingdom since we have kept all of the magic to ourselves. You haven’t been able to farm, to use the magic for yourselves, or even turn the ice into water for necessary use. By hoarding all the magic to ourselves, we have forced our people into poverty. I want to right what we have done wrong. And that is where you come in, my lady.”

“That’s the second part of my last question,” You said, pushing your plate back so you could lean forward against the table. “Why do you need my help?”

He smiled, wiping the back of his hand across his eyes, the action so rushed you had barely registered its occurrence. “I’ve spent the past two years studying the origins of the spell on the crown. There’s supposedly a cave near the border between Glacies and Terrae where my grandfather traveled to have the spell cast, and in order to break the spell, I have to take it back there. And, according to my sources, nobody in the land knows their way around the caves quite as well as you do.”

“I’m flattered, although I am quite curious to know who’s been saying such kind words about me behind my back,” you said, wishing you knew who Taehyun had been in communication with that would know of your occupation and skillsets. “So, what I am gathering is this; you want me to guide you to this cave and help you break the spell in order to finally have the magic distributed back into the kingdom?”

“Precisely. Only if you are willing to do so, of course.”

It was your turn to smile then as you stood to your feet, extending your hand towards him for a shake. “You needn’t ask me twice, Your Highness. When do we leave?”

He stood as well, his smile mirroring your own as he took your hand in his and shook it. “We head out first thing tomorrow morning, my lady. Until then, let us prepare. Together.”

YOU AWOKE THE NEXT MORNING TO THE SOUND OF A CRACKLING FIRE.

Beneath your face was something warm and soft, but not quite as soft as the pillow you had slept upon the night before. When your eyes fluttered open, you were surprised to see that you had fallen asleep in the drawing room, the map you and Taehyun had spent all day studying spread out on the table before you, and your head resting upon his shoulder.

You quickly sat up, brushing your hands through your hair in an attempt to fix the wild strands. Taehyun was already awake, smiling at you as you looked away, cheeks growing warm.

“Did you sleep well?” He asked. It was still early in the morning—so early that the sun had not even risen yet, leaving the room bathed in the predawn darkness.

You shrugged, daring to look back at him only to see him smirking at you in the dark. “Well enough, I suppose,” you mumbled, your eyes finally landing on the source of the sound you had awoken to. In the corner of the room, Taehyun had gathered a pile of logs and started a small fire atop them, casting a soft orange glow upon the room made of ice. You gasped, turning back towards the prince. Beads of sweat were rolling down his forehead and cheeks, and you noticed that his breaths were much more labored than they had been before.

“Taehyun, what are you thinking?” You asked, grabbing his arm firmly. “Go put that out. Now.”

“You were shivering,” He said, refusing to let his eyes meet yours. “I didn’t want to see you suffer. It’s the least I could do after all you have been through because of us—if I can suffer in your place, I will do so gladly.”

You sighed in exasperation, grasping his hand in your own. He looked at you then, eyes wide from the unexpected contact. “Your Highness, you have been doing everything within your power so far to right what has been wrong for so long. I refuse to let you blame yourself and cause yourself any form of pain for something that has always been out of your control. In order for us to finish this, we must do so together. Now, go put that fire out or I will be forced to find a way to do it myself. And I will have you know that my methods are not usually the safest.”

He sighed, finally giving in as he raised his hand, a gust of icy wind blowing past your face and killing the fire on the far side of the room. You sighed in relief, giving his hand a squeeze before you let it go.

“Thank you,” he whispered. “I do not feel as though I deserve your kindness nor your understanding, but I am grateful to be receiving it regardless.”

“Everyone deserves kindness and understanding, Your Highness. Especially you.”

After that, the two of you grabbed a quick breakfast from the dining hall and gathered all your supplies from the drawing room before you threw on a thick cloak, allowing Taehyun to lead you out into the snow and to the stables. He introduced you to the reindeer named Atlas that would be pulling your sled, and then led you into the stable where the sled was stored in order for the two of you to finish gathering a few last-minute supplies before you were to head out on your quest.

While Taehyun began throwing things into the back of the sled, you became distracted by a wall strung with weaponry. A quiver of arrows caught your eye, and you reached up to pull a single arrow out, observing it closely.

“This looks like something Jake would be interested in,” you mused, twirling the arrow between your fingertips before you set it back in its place. “He’s been trying to improve his archery.”

Perhaps it was your imagination, but when you looked back at Taehyun, you could have sworn you saw his smile falter, at least for a moment. He shook it off though, throwing a sack of food into the back of the sled before he asked, “So, you and this Jake guy. How long have you been courting?”

You nearly choked on the stable’s air, throwing your hand against your chest in shock. “I’m sorry, what?”

He raised a brow, turning to face you fully. “You are courting him, aren’t you? He seemed to be concerned for you in a way that went deeper than friendship, from what I was able to observe.”

“Oh, please. Jake flirts with anyone who even bats an eye in his direction. We are not in a relationship.” You couldn’t help but laugh at the mere thought. “The only time I ever touch that man is when I’m trying to slap some sense into him—and I mean that quite literally.”

Taehyun laughed, almost as though he were relieved, while he began to tighten the reins that kept Atlas anchored to the sled. “Would you ever consider courting him? If he asked you to, of course.”

“He has asked, and I’ve never considered saying anything other than no.” You picked up the pile of blankets one of the servants had left by the sled and lifted it over the edge, making sure they landed right in the middle of the bench where the two of you were to be seated. “He is not my type.”

Taehyun leaned back against the sled, the slight smirk you had grown accustomed to seeing taking over his features once again. “Well, what exactly is your type, my lady?”

You went still, not sure why his question made your stomach flutter like a disturbed nest of bluebirds. You had never really given this much thought before, but now that he had asked you, your mind was instantly flooded with thoughts of cold hands and warm smiles, icy eyes and flushed cheeks, strong arms and gentle words.

You turned away from him before you spoke, trying your best to be nonchalant. “I think I’d like to find someone that I understand more than anyone else. Somebody that the rest of world may see as cold and brittle, but someone I know to be warm and soft on the inside.”

When there was nothing but silence after your words, you dared to glance back over your shoulder at the prince. Upon doing so, you were more than a little bit happy to see that you had made him just as flustered as he had made you, with his cheeks and nose painted cherry red—and not just from the cold.

He cleared his throat, biting his lip to keep his smile from being too obvious. “Good to know. If I ever meet someone who I think would meet those standards, I’ll be sure to send them your way.”

“Oh, please do,” You said, glad that the tense silence was thawing. “And quickly if you don’t mind. The elders in my community remind me at every passing chance that my childbearing years will be over before I know it, since that’s apparently all that matters.”

That earned an even bigger laugh from him, which caused to you giggle in return. When he smiled at you again, you couldn’t help but lose yourself in his eyes. But who could blame you when they sparkled like freshly fallen snow beneath the morning sunlight?

“I’ll keep that in mind, my lady.” He hoisted himself into the sled and extended his hand out towards you, his brilliant smile never once falling from his face as he said, “Now, what do you say we go and restore this kingdom to its former glory? I believe it’s long overdue.”

THE SLEIGH RIDE THROUGH THE KINGDOM HAD BEEN FAIRLY PEACEFUL, FOR THE MOST PART. Taehyun had the reins and was guiding Atlas through the snow-capped mountains while you held the map and directed him, although you could practically navigate your way throughout the kingdom with your eyes closed, no doubt.

The scenery was beautiful in some ways. Trees weighed down by ice coated branches, casting rainbows across the ground as the sunshine reflected through them. The deep snow covered the ground, coating the entire landscape in a blanket of endless white. You sighed, perhaps a bit too loudly as you gained Taehyun’s attention.

“What could possibly be weighing so heavy on your mind to earn such a heavy sigh, my lady?”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help the smile that took over your lips at his jest. “I’m just tired of all the ice, I suppose. It’s so suffocating. It kills all the beautiful things and leaves us with nothing in return but cold.”

“That’s not how I see it though,” Taehyun said, holding onto the reins with one hand so he could keep the other around your shoulders, making sure you didn’t fall out of the sled as you crossed over a particularly bumpy patch of ground.

“What do you mean?” You asked, willing your expression to remain steadfast lest you reveal how flustered you were by Taehyun’s physical contact.

He smirked, and you cursed yourself internally, knowing that perhaps the faint flush in your cheeks had given you away after all.

“I mean, I see the ice as more of a new beginning than an ending,” He explained. “Of course, it does freeze everything over for a while, but it thaws eventually. And when it does, everything starts all over again. The rivers start running, the flowers begin to bloom, the animals come out of their sleep. Everything begins again, until it is time to freeze once more.”

“Well, that sounds nice in theory, my dear prince, but I am afraid there’s something you are forgetting,” You said.

“And what is that?”

“This is the Kingdom of Glacies. Well, the version your grandfather created, that is.” The smile fell from your lips. “The ice here never thaws.”

“Maybe the kingdom is still waiting for its new beginning,” He said. Gently, he grabbed your chin and turned your face towards his. He smiled then, the action alone so bright and warm, you were surprised the snow didn’t melt right off the trees.

“The kingdom may still be waiting for its new beginning,” He whispered, “But I think I have found mine.”

You were speechless. Never in a million different lifetimes would you have even dared to imagine the Prince of Glacies saying such sweet words to you. Unsure of how to respond, you cleared your throat and looked away, afraid your face would melt right off at this rate. You heard the sound of rushing water not too far off, and you glanced over to see a small spring beneath a gentle waterfall.

“We should stop there to let Atlas drink,” you suggested, leaning forward to pet the back of the reindeer. “It would be nice for us to stretch our legs too.”

Taehyun obliged, leading Atlas over towards the spring. You were more than happy to jump out from the back of the sled and stretch your legs, and the view was nothing short of spectacular. As you drew closer to the border between Glacies and Terrae, there were a few patches of green grass peeking through the snow, and some bodies of water—like this spring—were unfrozen. Seeing the rushing body of water made you think of what Taehyun had said to you just moments ago, and you felt your heart flutter once again.

You nearly flinched in shock when you felt him slip his fingers between yours, gripping your hand tightly.

He smiled, running his thumb along the back of your hand. “Care to go for a stroll?”

You nodded, deciding to push past your nervous feelings by taking the lead and pulling him along behind you. You were both quiet as you walked, taking careful steps over the snowy grass and onto the rocks that led up towards the waterfall. When you reached the fall, you stuck your hand beneath it. It was cold, of course, but you were mesmerized by how it sparkled, dots of the afternoon sun shining through the beads of water. The pressure of the waterfall was fairly low—no stronger than a drizzle of rain. The water first hit the slab of stone that the two of you were standing on before it cascaded down into another, smaller waterfall, which led into the spring that Atlas was drinking from.

“Do you like it here?” Taehyun asked, watching the way your eyes glowed as you let the water fall between your fingers.

You looked back at him, smiling brightly. “I love it. Don’t you?”

He nodded, glancing up at the falls then back at you. “It’s beautiful.”

He looked down at your hand in his for a moment, and then he gently tugged on it, causing to stumble a few steps closer to him. You raised a brow, clearly confused, but didn’t pull away.

“How about here?” He asked.

You nodded slowly, narrowing your eyes. “Sure. I like it here as well.”

He swallowed, gathering all the courage from every corner of his soul before he took a step forward, closing the gap between the two of you, his free hand coming up to cradle your jaw while he kept the other tightly intertwined with your own.

Your eyes were wide, lips parted in shock, but you made no moves to distance yourself from him. Slowly, he brushed his thumb along your bottom lip, lowering his face towards yours so that he could feel your breath against his own mouth.

“And here?” He whispered, his eyes meeting yours. “Do you like it here?”

When you nodded once again in answer to his hushed question, he wasted no time in diminishing the space left between the two of you to gently press his lips against your own.

His lips worked against yours perfectly as you allowed your eyes to fall shut, letting your hand fall from his grasp so you could hold his neck in your palms, your fingers slipping into the hair at the nape of his neck. He wrapped his arm around your waist and pulled you into him as his kiss grew deeper and you followed along, tilting your head to better match your lips with the pace of his.

When he pulled away from you abruptly and rested his forehead against your shoulder, you knew right away that something was wrong. He was breathing deeply, his hands clutching the fabric of your dress. You cupped his cheeks in your hands and lifted his face to yours, seeing how red his cheeks, nose, and ears had gotten.

“Taehyun? What’s wrong?”

He let out a shaky breath, his eyes still closed, his chest still heaving. “I’m—I’m sorry. I can’t kiss you, it’s too—I’m getting too warm.”

Your heart sank as you continued to hold his face in your hands, racking your brain for ideas. The sound of the waterfall rushing behind you filled your ears, and you glanced over your shoulder, biting your lip as an idea popped into your head.

Grabbing him by the collar of his shirt, you carefully walked backwards until you felt the ice cold water cascade over your head and down your back, stopping once you and Taehyun were both standing fully beneath the waterfall.

His eyes were wide, and he was slowly beginning to stand up straighter, his face growing less and less warm beneath your skin as the moments passed by.

“What are you doing?” He asked, nearly shouting to be heard above the light rush of water.

You smiled, pushing back pieces of his hair that the water had plastered to his forehead, only for them to fall right back into place.

“Why would you ask a question with such an obvious answer, Your Highness? I’m about to kiss you.”

He seemed to be in shock, but before he could utter out a single word in reply, you threw your arms around his neck and kissed him once more beneath the cascade of icy water, the feeling of his lips against your own giving you more than enough warmth in the core of your soul.

IT DIDN’T TAKE YOU LONG TO REACH THE CAVE WHERE THE LATE KING HAD FIRST CAST THE SPELL THAT RUINED THE LAND OF GLACIES. You had set back out on the road shortly after your somewhat extended rest stop, and by following the map closely, you arrived at the mouth of a cave with icicles hanging from the top and also sticking up from the ground. It looked much like the mouth of a great beast. It was too dangerous to try and bring Atlas inside with you, so Taehyun tied him and the sled to a nearby tree. He grabbed the bag that held the crown inside of it in one hand and then made his way to your side.

“Are you ready?” Whether his question was directed towards you or himself, you couldn’t be sure. Regardless, you took his hand in yours and gave it a squeeze.

“I am ready when you are, Your Highness.”

He smiled before he took the first step into the cave, carefully sliding between two spires of ice and gently pulling you along behind him. The cave didn’t go on for very long, and there was no need for you to bring a lantern along with you, as the daylight that spilled in through the entrance was more than enough to light your way.

When you reached the end of the shallow cave, a large pedestal made of stone was waiting for you. It was surrounded by a perfectly round back wall, with ancient texts inscribed on the walls. You weren’t able to decipher them, but you made your way towards the pedestal, your hand still locked with Taehyun’s.

A large black scorch mark in the shape of a sharp snowflake tainted the surface of the pedestal. Atop it rested a tattered and torn piece of tan paper, also written in a language you were unable to read. You slowly picked it up and handed it to Taehyun. “Can you read this?”

He nodded, squinting his eyes a bit before he read the words written on the page.

“To seize the power given to all, you must first destroy the treasure within. To restore the treasure within your soul, you must then destroy your everything.”

As soon as the words had left Taehyun’s lift, a violent, howling wind burst through the room. It blew with so much force that your hand was ripped from Taehyun’s, and you were thrown back against the stone wall of the cave. Taehyun was blown to the side opposite of you, and the crown fell from his grasp, landing near your feet. For some reason, the crown didn’t seem to be affected by the wind, as it remained stationary.

“What’s going on?” You shouted, gripping at a spire of ice nearby to keep from being blown right out of the cave. Bits of sleet and snow were pricking at your skin, the chilling air feeling sharper than the blade of ice Taehyun had held against your neck just days before.

“I don’t know,” He shouted back, gripping a rock that protruded from his side of the cave. “We need to decipher what was written down on that paper—that must be how we are to break the spell!”

The words scribbled onto the page flashed through your mind.

To seize the power given to all, you must first destroy the treasure within. This was obviously referring to the spell itself—the one cast by Taehyun’s grandfather. In order to steal the magic from the rest of his subjects, he had to sacrifice the most valuable power of all—his humanity.

To restore the treasure within your soul, you must then destroy your everything.

What had been everything to the late king?

His power.

His crown.

“Taehyun!” You shouted, daring to hold on to the spire with one hand in order to point at the crown by your feet, which still remained unmoving amidst the magical storm. “The crown—you must destroy it!”

He tried to stand, but was instantly knocked back on his rear, desperately grasping back onto the rock that kept him anchored. “I cannot make it over there to retrieve it!”

You bit your lip, glancing between Taehyun and the crown only for a moment before you made up your mind. You knew what you had to do.

“Y/N,” Taehyun warned, catching on to what you were about to do. “Y/N, don’t—!”

It was too late. You used your boot to pull the crown towards you before you grasped it in your fist. Pain shot through every inch of your being—beginning in your neck, then spreading through your chest and your legs, to the tips of your fingers and the bottoms of your toes, piercing through you like the sharpest bite of frost. You cried out in pain, over the noise of Taehyun screaming for you to put it down, before you mustered up every last bit of strength within you to lurch the crown towards the prince.

He caught it with one hand, his heart racing as he saw you fall limp to the ground, the wind battering and blowing your unconscious form around like a lone leaf in the winter’s wind. Tears stung at the back of his eyes, and he glared at the crown in his fist, all the anger and resentment he had felt towards his grandfather over all the years combined with the fear of losing you coming to a peak within him. He channeled every bit of these hostile and fearful emotions into the palm of his hand, where a burst of ice so strong was emitted that it covered the room in a blanket of white, the crown first cracking in his hand before it burst into a million shards, scattering all over the cave floor like pieces of glass.

The storm died out immediately, and Taehyun felt a rush of energy enter into his body. He felt stronger, healthier, warmer. But none of that mattered to him. Not when you were nearly lifeless on the other side of the cave.

“Y/N!” He shouted, tripping over his own feet as he sprinted towards you. He collapsed to the ground beside of you, gasping at the sight of blood dripping down your neck and seeping through your clothes.

“No, no, no,” he whimpered, the tears finally slipping down his cheeks as his hands pressed against your wounds, but there were too many of them for him to cover.

Desperate, he let out a shaky breath and closed his eyes. He knew that he no longer had access to all the powers he once did now that the spell was broken. There was no way for him to know if his healing magic was his true form of magic.

But he had to try.

At first, when he tried to omit the soft glow of icy power from his palms, nothing happened. But then, he felt a familiar tickling sensation on the surface of his skin. He opened one eye, then the other, nearly breaking down in sobs of relief as he watched gentle trails of frost travel down your skin, closing all your wounds and erasing any traces of them that would normally be left behind.

When the last cut had disappeared, your eyes fluttered open, and you smiled at him.

“Well done, your highness. You’ve broken the curse.”

He grabbed you by the shoulders and pulled you upright, crushing you against him in a hug.

“Never do anything like that ever again,” He muttered against your ear, squeezing you even tighter. “I thought I lost you.”

“You cannot get rid of me that easily, Your Highness,” you teased, pulling away just enough so you could look into his eyes. “Besides, I knew that healing magic was your true gift. I knew you would save me.”

“And how exactly did you know that, my lady?”

You pecked him on the nose, giggling at how red it turned afterwards. “Because you are a kind and good prince, Taehyun. And you will make a wonderful, healing king.”

“What about you?” He asked. “We should see what ice power you have been gifted.”

You hesitated, gently holding one of your hands out in front of you. Your brows knit together, and Taehyun laughed at the expression before he placed his hand beneath yours.

“Feel the energy running through your veins,” He said. “Let the magic guide you.”

Nothing happened for the first few moments. But then, one by one, snowflakes began to fall, seemingly from out of nowhere. Soon, you held a tiny snowstorm in the palm of your hand. You gasped, eyes glowing with excitement.

“It worked,” You said, staring at what you had created in awe before you allowed it to die down. You then cupped his cheeks in your hands, leaning closer towards him.

“How does it feel to finally be free? What is the first thing you would like to do now?” You asked.

He couldn’t take his eyes from your face, his thumbs tracing invisible lines across your cheeks and your jaw, occasionally slipping over your lips. “The first thing? Simple; I want to make you my queen.”

You coughed, but remained fairly unphased by his forwardness as you responded with, “Although that is something you could have done without breaking the spell, I am quite fond of the idea. Yet, I have one even better than that—how about we instead dissolve the monarchy together?”

He laughed at that, brushing his hands through your hair before cradling your jaw once more. “One step at a time, princess. We can talk about that later. But what about you? What are you most excited about now that the kingdom has been restored?”

You smiled then, not having to take long at all to think of your answer. “As wonderful as having newfound magical abilities may be, my prince, the most wonderful thing about breaking this spell is that I am now able to kiss you wherever I please—without having to stand beneath a freezing waterfall.”

This time, when you leaned forward to capture his lips with yours, Taehyun gladly welcomed the warmth that rushed to his cheeks. And as he kissed you, he was sure that all the warmth that spread throughout him was enough to heat the entire kingdom, so much so that he dared to imagine that the eternal ice of the Kingdom of Glacies would finally begin to thaw.

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studyingmoominvalley · 3 years

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my analysis of Moominvalley (2019)'s season one soundtrack

(yeah I may not be great at this and I may be missing a lot, but bare in mind this is my analysis, not anyone else's. Please be nice to me ;-;)

I'm Far Away:

Snufkin has travelled for the Winter. The first verse is like Moomin leaving letters in Snufkin's bag, wishing him with good travels and a safe return hope. Snufkin is longing for something to change, or maybe something in him to change... The second verse is more talking about his travels and how he longs to return no matter what happens.

Starlight:

I don't know, reading this and thinking of Snufmin makes me concerned. It's SO obvious that it's from Moomin's perspective that it gives me a cavaty. "Please say you'll never leave 'cause it's in your hands" If that wasn't obvious enough, idk what is. This is him just... wanting to be with Snufkin. He knows deep down that Snufkin has to travel, yes it's in his hands but not completely. It's a part of him. This is obviously his mind in a point of time where he hasn't gotten used to Snufkin being away from him, possibly what is reflected in Teety-Woo.

Summer Day:

Moomin doesn't like the Winter because it feels wrong without Snufkin. But he has Snorkmaiden with him at least, and that's good enough right? Snorkmaiden loves Moomin, almost in a similar way Moomin loves Snufkin, but Moomin just feels tied down in the relationship. He thinks he's just thinking like an adult, like a moody teenager or something. But then again, he feels Snufkin is the only one who understands him ("But when you put your hands in my hands/You speak a language only us can understand"). It feels like Summer with Snufkin, but not with Snorkmaiden. He reassures himself that Spring is coming and that he'll see the one who knows him best soon.

Back To The Cave:

We get to look into Snufkin's brain, ooo! This is mainly about Snufkin's feelings about himself and how he hides his true emotions from Moomin and the others. "They can't see behind the camouflage" this is him hiding behind a wise and carefree persona, when deep down he is conflicted about almost everything. It seems when he runs out of things to say or when he fears that he'll show his emotions, he finds time to be alone, shown by the lines "We're running out of punchlines/So watch us crawl/We're crawling back to the cave". But his feelings are getting too much, his fears of being forgotten most likely because he doesn't express himself in the way he should "There's a storm/It's rising". So basically he doesn't know what to do anymore. And I guess the "you can't be truly free if you admire somebody too much" quote can link to "There's no time/There's no place for idles", showing more that this is about Snufkin's emotions.

Love Me With All Your Heart:

now this song choice was intentional. This is mutual pining, their emotions mixing into the same song. They've loved each other for a long time, be it platonic turning to romance or be it always romantic. They both want each other, they both long for each other. But they don't wish for their relationship to change, they want it to stay the same ("When we're far apart or when you're near me", "Love me always as you've loved me from the start").

Home Again:

Snufkin is back home, and he could not be happier. Yeah he likes to travel and be with his thoughts, but nothing is better than being with Moomin, shown by the lines "Nothing could be better/Than when I hold you close to me" and "Who I was back then and who I am now/Makes no difference when I'm by your side".

There Is Something In The Forest:

One day, Moomin and Snufkin are just adventuring as they usually do. But something feels different. Something new. Moomin realises it that night, when sitting hand in hand with Snufkin. He finds himself losing track of time, only paying attention to his friend. When he goes home, all he can think of is Snufkin. He thinks of it as he walks, embracing his new emotions as love, a deep love, for Snufkin. And he never wants to let it go. Ever.

Home:

Moomin has noticed how off Snufkin has been acting, and one day he decides to comfort him. He tells him that if he ever feels like he needs to hide ("Sometimes you only want to hide") or that nobody is there for him, that Moomin will always be there for him. This song can also link to Snufkin's own saying "You must go on a long journey before you find out how wonderful home is", and seems like Snufkin has found his home in Moomintroll.

All Small Beasts:

nah this is crime anthem. Little My is cheering Snufkin up, telling him that people with lots of dreams, emotions and all that should just let it out in a huge show! Commit crime! Burn some signs! Fuck Hemulens, who's to say what they can or can't do? The first verses are her making fun of people being neat and telling Snufkin that bottling up your emotions is just going to tease at you and bite you in the tail one day. But this can also be seen in another way, brought to my attention by my friend Bloom. It can be a song about owning up to your mistakes instead of keeping them away.

Free Spirit:

must I say anything? Snufkin likes being alone and free. The second verse is what I want to focus on however. He knows it's good to be alone and not worry about anything, but his avoiding of responsibility is doing him worse than he knows (much like the "owning up to mistakes" analysis by my friend Bloom).

Country Air:

This is what Snufkin wishes he could say to Moomin. They're relaxing together in Summer, Moomin asleep. Snufkin is thinking in his brain about how much he loves him and just wishes he could say SOMETHING. Winter is coming soon, almost time for them to part. Maybe he can ponder more on his emotions then?

By Your Side:

it seems Snufkin is accepting and returning Moomin's offering of comfort, showing that he cares for Moomin and that he doesn't even need to ask for help, he'll do anything to make him happy.

In Blue:

oh boy

Snufkin fears he made a mistake already. He let out his emotions. Even when reassured that it was okay to do so, he feels utterly guilty, shown by the lines "I built a house from sticks and twine/And you said it would serve me fine/But then the rain could soak me through". He begins to fear that he's being put up with, like he doesn't matter anymore ("Anything to keep me quiet"). But he can't help but feel a strong admiration for Moomin. Snufkin has made so many mistakes, and has so many bad feelings ("I caught a fever like I always do"), yet Moomin is still his friend ("And still you let me stand with you, in blue"). He feels his emotions are his fault, and wonders if he should just stay in the valley and own up to his mistakes and allow others to show their true emotions for him, shown by the lines "I bet next year I'll see you all the time/The fault is all deserved as mine", "Was it all on purpose?/Was this true?" and "Tell me and be honest, was this you?". The phrase "In Blue" could refer to the saying "into the blue", which refers to the unknown. Snufkin is "In Blue" because he is in a stage where he is unsure of what he is hearing and wants to know if it's true or not.

Nothern Lights:

Snufkin's feelings for Moomin are increasing to what is obvious to him as love. "Will you find peace in your heart?" this line could be Snufkin talking to himself. Will be ever come to peace with his emotions and open up?

Ready Now:

Moomin has been there for Snufkin all this time. Through all his doubts, through all his sadness. Snufkin has no idea how to express himself, so Moomin helps him. They take it in turns to just talk about things, and "To my surprise we found my words". All this time, Snufkin believed himself to be free. But now he knows that opening up and embracing how you feel is true freedom. He is ready now.

The Author:

This is more about Moomin. He feels like his future will be like his father's, he already met Snorkmaiden during a big childhood adventure after all, just like Pappa. But he finds his story is changing. He's fallen in love with Snufkin. He slowly realises that his future is his own and that he is in charge of his story. And his story begins with being there for his best friend.

#moomins #moominvalley #snufkin #moomin #moomintroll #snufmin #analysis #soundtrack

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redwinterroses · 3 years

Text

RIIIIIIIIIGHT SO.

I just finished chapter 13 of Dog At The Door and holy hot cross buns batman if you're not reading this fic you NEED to. It's literally one of the best written fics I have ever read in my life and I've been reading fanfiction for over 15 years, lol.

I went back and reread the entire fic to lead up to chapter 13 and I decided to treat it like I used to treat things I had to read in college so I took notes as I went and please I am warning you this post is incredibly long. Almost 3k words. PLEASE do not hit that "read more" button unless you're good with having to scroll past it all and also spoilers ahead. Proceed with caution.

~*~

Rereading Dog at the Door reactions (spoilers, obviously):

· Doc finding Ren’s body to be cold and for a second thinking he’s actually dead—my heart

· “That’s Ren, alive and kicking.” Oh…no, Doc. No it’s not.

· The first “Where is my hand?” hits different the second time through

· Gah the ice and winter imagery ALL over the place—my English degree brain wants to watch and see if that shifts to warmth at any point as we go? Thoughts for future Red to think.

· It’s fascinating to me to see Doc constantly thrust into the prey role. This is a guy who is very much not that person normally, but something about the Red King is beyond anything he’s really encountered before—or at least not since Dinnerbone—and it pushes him into an entirely new role that he clearly chafes in

· “I should get back to work on your new arm soon,” he says, making a mental note to add claws to the fingertips. Honestly Doc why tho. XD

· “It feels like something Ren would want him to do.” </3

· Side note: I just watched Doc’s freaking hour long shulker farm vid, and that’s making it a lot easier to hear his voice in this fic

· I’m more curious about the hand.” New Ren laughs a bit at his own words, as though there’s something funny about that phrasing. I MISSED THIS LINE THE FIRST TIME THROUGH

· The bead curtain being cursed hippie treasure XD

· The fact that Doc just so quickly accepts that Ren is gone—maybe not permanently, but at least for now—is kind of heartbreaking. Because you know he hasn’t really accepted it, he’s just… deciding not to feel anything about it. Just nod and move on and pretend you don’t need to stop and cope with the possible/probable death of your best friend and the fact that Someone Else is wearing his skin. That’s so sad.

· “high-fiving the finished hand with his own metal hand.” Aww… Doccy.

· “He shoos away the images of New Ren holding him up by the throat supervillain-style and turns around.” Hmmmmmmm want that fanart. Scary New Ren/RK is good stuff. (post-chapter-13 Red popping in with a WHAT THE HECK)

· “that makes him seem like a ghost in Ren’s body.” YA KNOW. LIKE HE IS.

· Okay side note time: why is the Red King here? Ya know? Like – in 3rdLife the idea of a possessing spirit of bloodlust makes some sense. But why stick around? Was RK trying to escape the 3L server, or was this not deliberate? At what point did he take over from Ren—at Black Heart Altar? In which case, was the whole idea Ren’s to begin with, or was he influenced? Maybe it happened the first time Ren died? The Red King took over then—or at least started to? Thoughts, thoughts, thoughts, thoughts…

· Wait more theories—what if RK is connected to the ????? entity that spoke to Martyn when he died? In which case, cMartyn said he was considering making that canonically a Watcher (he ended up not doing it, but he also didn’t do anything that contradicted it either). I’m not saying RK is a Watcher… but boy he sure does stare a lot, don’t he.

· Holding the screwdriver like a dagger—mmmm

· Okay funny thought: all this frost, RK’s gonna need to be real careful about rust lol. And straining the metal, tbh, all that freezing and thawing is going to have an effect but the rust idea is making me laugh

· Until I realized it would look like blood and it’s not funny anymore

· “Renbob is in the beanbag stuffed next to the driver’s seat” right so is this where Renbob sleeps because I have been wondering—

· “something about having two people look like Ren when neither of them are makes Doc stop to take a shaky breath” *sob*

· “Renbob clears his throat, looking up at Doc with a smile that is so obviously fake that it hurts.” Ugh the LOT of you stop repressing everything you’ll give yourselves a collective hernia

· “he’ll probably have to break the news to the other hermits, too, Iskall and False and all the others.” All these painful lines I somehow missed the first time through

· Awww warm air comes in when Renbob opens the door—with the flowers and everything, Renbob is so easily associated with spring, I love this contrast.

· Aaand there it is, yup, RK is shocked to see his face on Renbob, and Renbob is shocked to see that this is so clearly Not Ren.

· They both recover pretty quickly, though. Survivors, both of them.

· RK calls Renbob their “ferryman” and I’m not sure if I was supposed to get “crossing the river Styx” vibes from that But I Did. (does RK think he’s dead? That they’re all dead?) (post-chapter-13 Red here with a little bit of wordless screaming.) (and also a bit of pride that I picked up on this.)

· “And what a help you’ve been! Fixing me up, replacing my hand.” Hi yes, 911? there’s a dagger stabbed into my feels.

· “he’d rather remember rage than see another person’s heart break.” Dang that’s such a raw line. Oof.

· ”the Red King says, his voice hoarse with tears.” Really interesting that this blood deity can feel such emotions—like, anger or even fear, I can get. But to see this entity upset to the point of tears is fascinating.

· “There is a crown on Doc’s workbench.” Right, yeah so like—is RK unwillingly manifesting these artifacts? Because that’s wild, man. …how long before he manifests an “enchanter”?

· “I’ve never seen it [the crown] clean before.” Okay that definitely implies that maybe RK didn’t come around until after Black Heart Altar?

· “The Red King has the crown in his lap when Doc turns back around, claws gently tracing over the engravings, leaving frost patterns behind.” I really wish I had art skills because there’s this image in my head of a drawing of the crown held in RK’s hands, with his face (one eye glowing, one in shadow) reflected in the surface, and frost patterns following behind a claw that’s daintily tracing the surface. But I can’t draw so—

· RK asks for a change of clothes. What was he wearing when they rescued him, I wonder? The Red King outfit with the fur capelet? Or Ren’s Stargazer outfit? Which begs the question: where does Stargazer fit into all this? Was Ren’s return to Hermitcraft RK free, but when he came so close to dying to Sith, RK found that as a gateway to take over? (Post-13 Red here, Looking Intently at this note.)

· Awww… the image of a one-legged RK clutching new clothes to his chest and hopping down to change in the bathroom… That’s weirdly endearing. He’s less menacing when he stands up somehow. Less lurking, maybe.

· Oooohhhhh he messed up his back sleeping on the floor. Gotcha.

· Doc keeps telling himself (and RK) that saving him and working on these parts is “the right thing to do” and while he’s not WRONG I just want to see him realize that it’s not only the right thing, it’s realistically the only thing, because if he didn’t, then he’d have to deal with the fact that he’s lost his best friend and we can’t have that.

· “I don’t need to eat” ummmmmm no hold on this definitely implies that RK is possessing a dead body and I’m not okay with that where is Ren

· LOLOL “I can’t stand to see [you do] this” is such a raw line to be about watching Doc eat cereal with his hands

· “The voice doesn’t belong to who he thinks it does.” Ugh, Doc. This isn’t the first time he’s lost a close friend to Something Else, something otherworldly.

· “All of them are waiting for him, waiting for him to do something more, something better—” aaand there it is. Doc’s characterization in this fic in a single sentence.

· Doc waking up and thinking he’s seeing Ren and RK’s hesitation and the gentle “I’m not Ren”—OH MY HEART

· RK’s coffee = Renbob’s friendship bracelets

· Randomly can I just say that I love how RK’s dialog is all in italics? It concerned me at first because I thought it was going to keep pulling me out of the narrative, but instead it really just feels right. Also I’m looking forward to the moment when he says something and it’s not in italics because it’s REN and oh my lands please give this to me I beg you (post-13 Red here with a bit more mindless screaming)

· “watch your tongue with me, Atlas, because I’m the one person you can pass the sky to.” Okay okay okay—English studies brain coming out. This suggests that there is a burden RK and Doc can share: something Doc is currently struggling against that only RK can help him with. In the moment, I don’t know if this is really fair of RK to say—after all, Doc does technically have Renbob too, if we’re just talking about Doc’s unhealthy coping mechanisms. In fact, if that’s the context, then Renbob is a much better fellow-Atlas because he and Doc have known each other much longer and they’re both dealing with the loss of Ren. BUT, knowing about the upcoming conversation where Doc and RK both realize that they’ve lost someone (Ren for Doc, Martyn for RK) this line suddenly has a lot more weight. Again, I don’t think that in that moment RK quite has the right to pull this zinger. But in later context, it turns out to be true after all. They are the only two with this particular shared pain.

· Doc upset with himself because he can’t get over his “stupid hang-ups” DOC MY LAD. “I’ve lost my best friend, you’re in his body, and I don’t know how to process any of these emotions” is not a “stupid hang-up” PLEASE stop blaming yourself for everything!?

· “I’m so tired” in the middle of his nightmare—oh my gosh. That hurts so much for some reason.

· I also very much wish I had the ability to draw the image of Doc with tears on his face, staring dead-eyed down at his workbench while RK looms over from behind, pinning his wrists to the table with one metal arm and one frost-bitten one, a look of exasperation and concern on his face. Why can’t I draw the things

· “How do you know Etho” “I watched him die.” OW ow ow ow ow

· Doc takes this as calmly as only someone used to living in a world where death has low consequences can. Oh. Oh—that means… huh. Doc isn’t used to losing people permanently on any basis, especially not death. So no wonder he doesn’t know how to process Ren being gone (I can’t bear to write “dead” there). He literally doesn’t have context for it… and what context he DOES have is like—I mean, Etho and Bdubs came back. Ouch.

· “Twenty-five.” The Red King makes the number sound like a threat. Yet another banger line I missed the first time through. Imagine waking up and thinking you’re in 3rd Life again but instead of 14 players there’s almost twice that many and you think you don’t know any of them.

· I still don’t quite understand the “when was etho added/should have known there was something different” bit or why RK is so emotional about it… but I have trust that it’ll make sense at some point. (post-13 Red: ...is this something about the fact that he thinks he's dead...so he thinks Etho has died before? Like, that 3rd Life wasn't Etho's first hardcore? ...I feel like I'm almost grasping this but I'm missing an element somewhere.)

· And now a sword. RK. My man. You need to stop manifesting things—especially when they scare the ever-living daylights out of you.

· I absolutely adore the in-universe lore that Fire Aspect is a PvP enchantment because it threatens dropped loot, and yeah I very well might steal that. (Along with something I read at one point who-even-knows-where that Knockback is a coward’s enchantment, because I love that too.)

· He really shouldn’t. / Doc picks up the sword by the scabbard and hands it to him, hilt extended. Doc you already trust this guy so much and you don’t even know it—but is it just because you still subconsciously trust the face he wears? Or is it something deeper?

· Ugh, the “I was supposed to kill someone for him” conversation/scene is SO FREAKING GOOD

· “I don’t want it. Not like the crown.” Why, though? Why doesn’t he want it? Because it’s more to do with death than kingship? OH. Oh, I hadn’t even considered that. I’ve been thinking of RK as this like, god of blood and vengeance but maybe he’s not. Maybe he hates the bloodshed (“the blood! It’s drippin’ in me eyes… I’ve been blinded by the violence…”) just as much—more?—than Ren did/would have. Huh. That’s a new facet.

· Oh my heart the “have you ever lost someone and it was your fault” line. Dagger to the feels. Dagger to the feels.

· This like… “I’m on a roll and even though I know I should stop I really don’t want to” mode? Man. That’s relatable. Especially when you’re working to avoid dealing with something else.

· “Not making it for you—it’s for Ren” oh ouch ouch ouch the denial suddenly breaks through it’s okay, Doc I’m with you on this

· The second time reading through it’s far clearer that Doc has a blind panic attack here—when he starts rambling that Ren’s coming back, he’ll be there for season eight and RK goes to…do whatever he was going to do and Doc just blanks out. The manic productivity should have been a warning sign, the poor guy is crumbling.

· “Doctor” and “he’s not sure he deserves that title right now” UGH Doc needs a hug someone please hug him and tell him it’s all going to be okay. Someone please hug me and tell me it’s all going to be okay.

· “his hand on his throat” over the scar from the Red Winter axe? </3

· “I did do that. I have done that.” RK admitting to it actually having been him in Doc’s nightmares?

· Okay sorry the conversation about beating Dinnerbone will never not be funny to me

· RK mentions that people used to call him m’lord or Ren, and then mere minutes later you have “Ren. You couldn’t save him because of me, could you?” He knows exactly what’s going on here. Not maliciously, but he’s no dense-head, he’s put the pieces together. (post-13 Red: MOST of the pieces. Most of them.)

· Watching Doc slowly stop fighting his nightmares—like, the first time, he fights. The second time, he accepts it but still struggles. And this time… this time he gives up before it even starts. That hurts, man.

· Good grief the whole “get my head chopped off” / “you really don’t want that” bit. O.O I’m not sure what emotion I’m feeling but I’m Feeling An Emotion.

· “Snow’s new. Dream’s not.” </3

· …Doc’s not gonna be a fan of snowier-snow after this trip…

· "Dr. M77" Actually he’s Doc Monster, RK, but we’ll let it go. XD

· OKAY BUT THIS EXCHANGE? The “how are you feeling” / “better” / “you’re a bad liar” / “I said better not great” that’s such a good exchange and I don’t know why every other time I’ve ever seen it used they stop at the lying accusation? Doc with the snappy comebacks, man.

· Aaah, Doc and RK, two establishment bros bonding over a shared disdain for hippies.

· The bit about the fella who wore an iron helmet and called it a powdered wig—fear is in my heart. *shoves Scar into an obsidian box and blocks it closed*

· “Who was Ren to you?” </3

· Doc is more than willing to spread the flames, to sear his loss into RK’s bones. / The king’s face stops him. Ren’s face stops him. Holy CRAP is that a good set of lines. So much going on there, and ALL of it good.

· Again. I wish I could draw. I would draw RK sitting on the edge of the bed, gently hugging a collapsed-in-on-himself Doc. </3

· “And I hate the devil that forced us apart, that mixed my blood with his.” *adds another layer to Scar’s obsidian fort*

· OKAY STARTING CHAPTER THIRTEEN I made the mistake of logging into Tumblr earlier and saw people screaming so I’m sure I’m not ready for this but here we go

· Oh no RK has been hippie-ified

· “You started a paramilitary organization because you have hay fever?” *dies laughing*

· Ugh I need to go back and watch s6 I’ve only seen the tail end of Mumbo’s side of things and there’s so much I don’t know.

· HAHAHAHAH I do know the trident bit though—

· Wait he said Scar

· PANIC

· “Kingslayer. bloodthirsty. Time King. The coward. And the mastermind behind it all, the loyal soldier to the very end, the whole damn reason either of us are in this mess.”

· HOLY CRAP HOLY CRAP HOLY—

· “Is this the afterlife I deserve? After everything, this is the hell I’m going to endure?” I AM SCREAMING

· Doc pinned to the wall with ice, struggling to breathe—I CAN’T WHAT IS HAPPENING

· ((You know I’d get through this a lot faster if I stopped pausing to write reactions—))

· “A break in the ice. A whisper of spring.” Symbolism. Symbolism.

· “Ren was dead when I found him again,” NO I REFUSE TO READ THIS

· “don’t use the hand I built you to hurt yourself” DOC. SIR. MY HEART.

· RK don't run, RK get back here—what are you—

· I

· JUST

· ACTUALLY

· SCREAMED

· AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

· *several long moments of just breathing*

· *rereads*

· Holy crap on a garbage cracker with an extra serving of what-the-heck sauce

· REN

· Okay lol okay hahaha calming down

· I literally threw myself back in my chair away from the computer reading that last paragraph. I don't usually... physically react to things I read. LOL. Heh. I’m. Ah. I’m not emotionally invested in this or anything.

· Holy crap.

· Okay. Okay. Okay.

· Um.

· Great chapter, guys. Awesome stuff. Really good. I’m absolutely okay right now and it’s all totally fine.

· …please enjoy your break and get lots of rest and I very much look forward to the return of this fic you have no idea.

· I need to go breathe for a little bit.

EDIT: no, you know what--I'm not going to be a nice polite fangirl over here and quietly hope y'all see this I'm straight up tagging you, @fluffy-papaya and @betweenlands. THANK YOU but also how dare.

#The only reason I'm even posting this is for my own remembering later #and i guess if fluffy or solar want to see my mindless ramblings -- go nuts #long post #redwinterreacts #redwintertalks #dog at the door

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foilfreak · 3 years

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Beauty and Her Beast: Summary and Ch.1

A Salvatore Moreau x Female!FishMutant!oc fic based on this idea I had the other day that a very specific subset of the fanfom went absolutely apeshit for, which I'm here for and decided to act on. I can't make any promises for consistent uploading or even a finishes product by the end of this, but so long as im still interested in working on it, I'll keep working on it, and if im not, then I wont, plain and simple. Anyways, here's the summary and chapter 1, please let me know what you think of the story so far, i hope you all enjoy (you'd better all enjoy), and I can't wait to see you all again for chapter 2. Bye! <333 (Link to ao3 posting will be in comments so check there if you want to read it there instead)

Warning: This fic is rated NSFW and contains graphic depictions of things some people may find disturbing or alarming, including, but not limited to: violence, gore, unhealthy family relationships, Oedipus complexes, gratuitous amount of pornographic literature, ableist language, physical, mental, and emotional abuse, etc. If you are someone who does not enjoy fiction with these elements in them, then I suggest you refrain from reading this, because this fic will have all that, and probably a lot more. So, this is your first and final warning to turn around and go somewhere else if stuff like this just isn't your vibe, because from this point forward, your emotional wellbeing is in your own hands, and I will not be accepting blame if you disregarded my warnings and ended up reading something you didn't like. Idk why I feel compelled to write one of these despite this being Resident Evil fanfic, but I figured I'd cover my ass just in case.

Summary:

Now, I’m sure everyone already knows the ancient tales that tell of a beautiful young woman slowly falling in love with a horrific monstrosity of a man. The pure and true love this innocent beauty comes to feel for him, despite his terrifying appearance, is the key that breaks the cruel and twisted curse under which he’d been kept prisoner. This allows the man behind the monster to not only return to his true human form, but then go on to live his Happily Ever After with the beauty who saved him. Everyone already knows of these tales, as well as the messages behind them, however that is not quite the way this particular tale plays out.

The tale I am about to tell bears many similarities to the one above, however there are also quite a few important differences. For while the original detailed a beauty falling for a monster because of the kind and loving man he was behind his hideous exterior, this is a tale of a beauty, with a few monstrous qualities of her own, falling in love with a kind and loving monster, not at all despite his grotesque appearance, but rather, in part, because of it.

This is a tale, where the Beast still falls for his Beauty first, but the Beauty is the one who will be pursuing her Beast.

Chapter 1: Mother's Gift

Few of those who lived isolated from the outer world, high up in the mountains of Romania, would expect anyone of reasonable sanity to be out traveling in this hellish sort of weather. The wind howling a demonic high pitched tune; snow, sleet, and hail pounding into the ground like an endless shower of bullets from the heavens; and hungry lycans still roaming the area, tirelessly looking for their next meal, would be enough to incentivize even the strongest of mortal men to seek shelter away from the deadly conditions of the outside.

A man by the name of Salvatore Moreau however, one of the 4 lords of this mountain region who lived in the reservoir just past the windmills, did not appear terribly concerned with what other people thought of the traveling conditions. Completely unbothered by the horrifying weather and threat of suddenly being ground into doggy food, the hooded man trudged his way through the dark and barely maintained snow paths. Starting at the reservoir and making his way toward the village, Salvatore moved as quickly as his deformed body would permit, an unusually chipper spring added to his lumbering hobble of a walk.

Mother had a gift for him.

Yes, a truly joyous day it was whenever Mother Miranda called upon him to join her and the other lords for a meeting. Miranda was usually so busy with her experiments that she rarely had time to visit her children outside of these ‘family meetings’ they’d been having recently. However, it would appear as though Mother has come up with a solution of some kind to this problem and wishes to share it with them in person. Whatever this solution is, the mutated man has no idea, as Mother Miranda had been quite vague in her message, however the fact that Salvatore was being given the chance to see his radiant mother AND receive a gift from her, all in one day, was more than enough to make up for how agonizingly lonely he’s been these last few months since winter set in, as well as how agonizing it was for him to walk in this weather.

Salvatore arrived at the usual meeting site just as the clock struck 8pm, precisely as Mother had instructed. However, much to the hooded man’s confusion, when he turned the handle on the large wooden door to enter the room, he quickly realized that he was currently the only one present. This was especially strange considering that, usually, at least one of his siblings was always present a little earlier than necessary, usually Alcina or Karl, but occasionally Donna with Angie in tow.

Mother had clearly said in her message that she wanted to start the meeting at 8pm sharply, so where on earth is everyone?

“Moreau” Mother Miranda’s voice called out, immediately pushing all thoughts from Salvatore’s brain as her powerful, yet lucious voice echoed against the halls of the room like a choir of angels.

“Y-yes! W-what… is it… M-mother Miranda? I-i-i came to you… j-just like you asked” Salvatore responds, bowing his head in reverence as he slowly crosses the room and approaches the otherworldly woman.

“So you did, though I suppose you coming exactly when I call makes the most sense. You always were the most obedient of my children” the woman remarks with casual disdain, her voice devoid of any sort of motherly affection or tenderness. Despite the clear disgust and disregard with which Miranda regards the hooded man standing before her, her words light Salvatore’s soul ablaze, filling his mangled body with intense feelings of heat and desire that melt his heart of the cold, icy frost that had frozen it over the course of the long winter.

“Y-y-yes, y-yes of c-course, Mother M-Miranda! I-i would… I would do any-anything... for y-you. A-anything you s-say... anything y-you n-need… I’d d-do it... f-for you. W-without question!” The deformed man says, practically getting on his hands and knees and crawling as he neared closer and closer to Miranda, stopping only when he’d arrived just in front of the steps the raven mother stood upon, his gaze trained at the ground as he knelt at her feet, awaiting his fate at his mother’s hands.

“I know you would, Moreau,” Miranda says cooly, gently brushing the palm of her hand against the black fabric that covers the top of Salvatore’s head, “which is why I’ve called you here today; to reward you for your loyalty and service to me thus far.”

Salvatore sinks sharp and jagged teeth into the flesh of his bottom lip, nearly drawing blood as he desperately tries to silence the needy whine that wanted to tear its way from the back of his throat. His body shivered and twitched in unimaginable delight from the sudden tender caress to his sensitive skin. How long had it been since someone had touched him so gently? How long since someone had spoken to him with such kind and soft words. Took the time to gather presents as a reward for years of faithful servitude? How long since someone had loved him like this?

‘Too long’ the disfigured man sighed to himself, reveling in the soft, gentle contact for as long as he is able.

“Moreau. Look at me” Miranda commanded firmly, and despite not wanting his beloved Mother to be forced to bear witness to his hideous face, he complied, lifting his head up and back to allow his gaze to lift from the floor and up at the glowing figure that was his Mother, his beautiful, incredible, intelligent, majestic mother.

The light shining down from above illuminates Miranda from behind. From Salvatore’s perspective on the floor, the light darkens her face and most of her torso and waist, giving a softened, almost ethereal glow around Miranda’s figure. This, along with the rest of her garb, makes Mother Miranda appear even more like the holy woman that Salvatore naively believes she still is. Despite her less than affectionate treatment of him thus far, Salvatore still stared up at the darkened face of Mother Miranda, his eyes shining with reverence, love, desire, and unending devotion.

“Y-yes... Mother?” Salvatore breathed, barely able to speak above a whisper as Miranda stepped away, gesturing for him to follow.

“Are you ready to collect your gift now?” The raven mother asks, speaking more softly than before and even holding her hand out to Salvatore, her pose and appearance mirroring that of a powerful god taking mercy upon her wretched follower, reaching out to reward the years of faithful servitude and worship.

Salvatore, barely able to keep himself calm as he stumbled to his feet, did not grace Mother Miranda’s question with a proper response, instead practically racing to take the woman’s outstretched hand in his own.

“I’m ready Mother… I-I’m ready for... my g-gift now… can I… c-can I have it n-now… p-please?” Salvatore begs, pulling at Miranda’s hand like an overly excited child, seemingly unaware of the disgusted twist of her face when the hooded man’s cold, slimy fingers firmly latched onto hers.

“Of course, my child” Mother Miranda says, pulling her hand back from Salvatore’s and instead placing it along the man’s hunched back, beginning to guide him to wherever it was the raven mother had hidden his gift.

As Salvatore limped next to Mother Miranda, the deformed man couldn’t help but wonder what exactly it was that Mother had gotten for him. Was it a new cloak, to replace the worn one he was currently wearing? Perhaps a new set of romance films so he didn’t have to rewatch the ones he already owned over and over again anymore? Or maybe it was something to help with his digestion?

It would be nice to get his chronic acid reflux under control again.

Regardless of what the gift actually turned out to be however, Salvatore was merely pleased that he was finally getting a chance to spend time with Mother Miranda all by himself for a change.

Maybe, if he was lucky, she’d even agree to hold him, just like she always did back when he was still undergoing cadou treatment.

Oh how wonderful that would be!

#salvatore moreau #resident evil #resident evil 8 #resident evil 8 village #resident evil 8: village #mother miranda #beauty and her beast #fic #mine #chapter 1 #re8 #re8 village #re village #salvatore moreau x reader #moreau x reader #moreau x oc #salvatore moreau x oc

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wangxianficrecs · 3 years

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Follower Recs

Stories I haven’t read yet, but clearly need to put on my ever-expanding List.

~*~

Welcome back queen [Thank you, it’s so lovely to be back!] if ur still doing follower recs I gotta recommend I would wait for a thousand years by bleuett it’s soooooooo good

[This one was actually recced to me by two different people, the other of whom said, “ Maybe I'm crying a little so I feel like a should recommend ‘I would wait for a thousand years’ by bleuett on ao3.”]... it’s def. on my List!

I would wait for a thousand years

by bleuett (T, 10k, wangxian)

Summary: During the worst of winter, a traveler comes to stay at Lan Wangji's inn. He wears a red ribbon in his hair.

“Do you see the rabbit?” Wei Ying asks and points at the moon. “That’s the moon rabbit, he helps make Chang’e more immortality elixir. He keeps Chang’e company.”

“I do not wish the rabbit for company,” Lan Wangji says tightly. “You are the one I want by my side.”

“And I’m here, Lan Zhan. If you go to the moon, I’ll follow you, I’ll always be here now.”

~*~

I just read a great fic by aisthuu "every love story is a ghost story", didn't see it in your recs so wanted to recommend it! LWJ is a guqin composer and teacher, buys a cheap guqin off eBay which ends up being attached to WWX's spirit from canon era. It's bittersweet, LWJ deals with Lan's homophobia (implicit in a Lan way) and his feelings towards the ghost. This is author's only ao3 fic and honestly I don't remember how I stumbled upon it, but I'm happy I did and hope you will enjoy it too! [I’ve recently read this one, and loved it!]

every love story is a ghost story

by aisthuu (M, 59k, wangxian, my bookmark)

Summary: The man is in Lan Zhan’s bed. Did they—he begins to wonder, eyes trailing to where the man’s body lies under the blanket. Had Lan Zhan—?

Then the sleep-fog clears and Lan Zhan realizes that the young man isn’t quite opaque around the edges.

“You’re a spirit.”

The spirit narrows its eyes. “I’m so much more than that.”

(Lan Zhan buys a guqin off eBay for a suspiciously low price, only to find that it’s haunted. And now there’s a ghost in his bed.)

~*~

Ok so I absolutely have to rec "see you yesterday" by glyphic. It's a wip, but it's currently at 101k so there's a whole lot there, and it's terrible and wonderful and beautiful all at once. The way the backstory of canon events is adapted to the modern-with-cultivation setting is brilliant, and then there's the amnesia, and then there's the time loop. This fic lives permanently rent-free in my brain.

see you yesterday

by glyphic (M, 101k, wangxian, WIP)

Summary:

Wei Ying 21:09 hey lan zhan what’s the weirdest way youve died

Lan Zhan 21:11 Falling encyclopedias.

Wei Ying 21:12 omg no way that’s so rude turning books against you???

Lan Zhan 21:13 A betrayal I will never forget.

On Halloween night, an exiled demonic cultivator and a Lan disciple get stuck in a time-loop, find each other, and try to figure it all out.

~*~

If you are looking for recs for yourself I absolutely love (the complete!) story Just as the Snow Melts by draechali on AO3. It's a canon divergence where everyone lives, even WWX! ~ @airmidcelt

Just as the Snow Melts

by draechaeli (T, 67k, wangxian)

Summary: Like a snowy mountain top in spring the residents of the Burial Mounds trickled down the mountain and joined the flow of society.

“I went to the Burial Mounds,” Lan WangJi said.

“Ah, yeah… I’m sorry Lan Zhan,” replied Wei WuXian, “I hadn’t thought anyone would come to visit. I am still not sure how it happened; I brought A-Yuan to Yiling to play by the river and then ended up somehow teaching a bunch of children swimming and writing along with him.”

~*~

Hello! It's come to my attention that you have not as yet read Grandmaster of Meme-onic Cultivation! Please do! It's the only thing that gave me joy during 2020 😆 like proper belly laughs and disney villain style cackling. It is a wip, and it is long but so so worth it!! The author has reworked the entire canon through these message crystals and still conveys complex characters despite the tricky format. It's just so good!! Highly highly recommend it! ❤ ~ @theladypeartree [Oh! I’ve been subscribed to this one, and know that @swaglexander-the-great is a reliable provider of Hilarity, so I’m excited for it to be finished!]

Grandmaster of Meme-onic Cultivation

by Hades_the_Blingking (T, 49k, wangxian, WIP)

Summary: The Untamed universe is exactly the same, except everybody has magical crystals that have a suspiciously familiar messaging system. The story is pretty much the same as the show, except everyone lives!! (so minor changes).

or in which Wei WuXian tries his darndest to date Lan Zhan, Jiang Cheng possibly has a aneurysm, Jin ZiXuan is still the most awkward human alive, and Xue Yang makes me write some VERY cursed things. Written in chatfic format! :3

~*~

Chomrafy on AO3 deserves love and encouragement; she’s written a body of compact, poetic, and eloquent shortfics each of which can stand alone, but that comprise an intricately cross-referential and mostly internally-consistent universe. They’re grouped as chapters in works according to theme; for example, “in cupped hands” focuses upon Jin Ling and his second-generation baggage; “Departure in Autumn” portrays the last years of WWX’s first life. Follow the tag “Chomrafy’s MDZS shortfics.” [I don’t see this tag?]

in cupped hands

by chomrafy (G, 2k, wangxian)

Summary: Of secrets, of futures, of love. A Jin Ling-centric collection of 200-word fics.

Ch.1: Jin Ling repays a debt (JL, JC, & WWX). Ch.2: Jin Ling and a ghost in the mirror. (JL & JYL) Ch.3: A matter of friends (JL & the other kids) Ch.4: In this house we don't keep dogs (JC & WWX) Ch.5: In the end, he remains silent (JL & uncles) Ch.6: A first night hunt, of sorts (JL & the other kids) Ch.7: Jin Ling, forgiving, forgetting (JL & LXC & JGY) Ch.8: Jiang Cheng and Jin Ling argue (JL, JC, & WWX) Ch.9: Jin Ling and his father (JL & JC) Ch.10: Jin Ling speaks up (JL, JC, & WWX) Ch.11: Jin Ling and a piece of home (JL, JC, & WWX)

Departure in Autumn

by chomrafy (not rated, 6k)

Summary: Four perspectives. A steady march to the end.

Ch.1: Because if anything happens to them, Wen Qing would never be able to heal with these hands again. Ch.2: As long as this is still home, Jiang Yanli will wait as long as she needs to. Ch.3: Five times Jiang Cheng reaches for Wei Wuxian, one time he turns away. Ch.4: Whether the road is broad or narrow, bright or dark, they would have to keep walking. Wei Wuxian digs Wen Qing's grave.

~*~

Hello, hope all is going well. I don't have an ask, by I do have a recommendation. I read this fic a while ago and found it again. I just wanted to recommend this for everyone. Let me know what you think please. Thank you. [Oh! This one’s in my To Read list, but I’d forgotten about it. Mmmm, fox!wwx and dragon!lwj.]

Ten miles of Lotus Flowers

by Yukirin_Snow

M, 274k, wangxian

Summary: He was a mischievous fox spirit, wreaking havoc where he went, about to depart on a journey that would span centuries.

He was a heavenly prince, a proud dragon destined to ascend the throne to become emperor.

Neither expected their paths to collide over the span of three lives.

~*~

I forgot if it was your blog 😥 that recommended “Bestseller” (when Wei Wuxian writes the Xianxia cut-sleeve equivalent of Fifty Shades of Grey, based entirely on his experiences with Lan Wangji, he doesn’t expect it to become the next big hit) (https://archiveofourown.org/works/21528316/chapters/51318766)

But OMG IT WAS HILARIOUS!!! I LOVED IT!! And if it wasn’t your blog, I’m so sorry for how weird this sounds 😭😭😭😭 I just loved this fic so much that I have to tell it to someone 😢 [It’s on my List, but I haven’t read it yet!]

Bestseller

by pupeez4eva

M, 8k, wangxian

Summary: He had written the book to prove a point. It was never supposed to be a big thing, and he certainly never intended for everyone — Jiang Cheng, Zewu-Jun, the Juniors, literally everyone— to be reading about his sex life.

Oh God, he definitely needed to make sure Lan Zhan didn’t find out about this.

(Or, when Wei Wuxian writes the Xianxia cut-sleeve equivalent of Fifty Shades of Grey, based entirely on his experiences with Lan Wangji, he doesn’t expect it to become the next big hit).

~*~

I’d like to rec On Your Marks, Get Set, Bake! by @blackwiresgrowonherhead

It’s one of my absolute favorites and I laughed out loud so many times when reading it

on your marks, get set, bake!

by BlackWiresOnHerHead

G, 41k, wei wuxian & juniors

Summary: Jin Ling resumes thumping on the door to room 721, and the small collection of freshmen starts chanting “Senior Wei! Senior Wei! Senior Wei!” with increasing volume until finally Wei Wuxian opens the door.

“Yes?” he says with his widest, most innocent eyes.

“Senior Wei!” demands Lan Jingyi, shoving himself to the front of the group. “Why didn’t you tell us you’re a contestant on this year’s season of The Great Gusu Bake Off?!?”

Several months ago, college student Wei Wuxian secretly competed in the most popular reality show in the country. The show starts airing in the fall. The freshmen in his dorm collectively lose their minds.

~*~

If you're in the mood for v. short ridiculous fun fic, may I suggest My chain hits my chest/When I'm bangin' on the radio by x_los It's 2k modern cultivators AU, featuring WWX calling LWJ's sword Bitchin' [omg I’m laughing so hard] and I think it's more fun going in blind?

My chain hits my chest/When I'm bangin' on the radio

by x_los

T, 2k, wangxian

Summary: Lan Wangji finds he doesn't even need to call for help for Wei Wuxian to come running.

#follower rec #wangxian fic rec #I HAVEN'T READ THESE YET #wangxian #mdzs

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hotdogct · 3 years

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blooms in adversity ||| n.jm

pairing: na jaemin x reader genre: angst-ish, fluff. words: 1.8k a/n: you ever get rejected from a job and have a complete meltdown over your future hahahahahhaaa just asking for a friend :) title is an obvious nod to ‘mulan’, i listened to way too much hippo campus while writing this. enjoy!!!

network tags: @czennienet

At this time we have decided to move forward with other candidates in the hiring process. Thank you for your interest and we wish you the best of luck in the future.

The rejection email might’ve landed in your inbox late in the afternoon, but you had been anticipating its arrival all day long - the thought of it lingering, stagnant, weighing heavily on your brain like a storm cloud that refused to pass.

Jaemin knew this, anticipated it. It’s why the two of you were outside, taking full advantage of the warmth the sun was providing this late spring day. After noticing the neglected planter on your balcony in the early days of your relationship, Jaemin wouldn’t stop nagging you about his ‘legendary’ green thumb. As soon as winter began to fade to spring he began to wax poetic, explaining the overwhelming benefits plant ownership has on a person and pretty please can-he-take-you-to-the-nursery and-

It’s not that you didn’t appreciate flowers. Some of your fondest memories of the early stages of your relationship were the bouquets Jaemin would spoil you with at each date - how you used to keep them on display prominently in the kitchen, a silent reminder of his newly blooming affection towards you. Even after they wilted, lost their petals, there was seldom time to mourn. A new bouquet would always take its place, and the absentminded cycle could continue.

Absentminded. That was your whole problem, the reason for the sad remains of dead flowers residing in the neglected planter. You had started off with the brightest of intentions when moving into your first apartment - wanting to establish routine and create the perfect place to unwind at the end of the day.

Nervously you had browsed the outdoor section of the nearest hardware store, shaky hands brushing over begonias and marigolds, before settling on a flat of dusty pink petunias to take home. None of these names meant anything to you, no terms familiar. Equipped with extra gardening tools courtesy of your mother, you spent that afternoon carefully digging into the soil. Gently sitting each starter petunia into place and covering their roots as if tucking in a child for the night. For the next few days, you’d make sure to have your daily nightcap of wine out on the balcony, watch the sunset and water the planter.

But one day you forgot. The next you were tired. Then you went out of town for the weekend. And at that point, shame left you frozen. Rather than attempting to salvage your petunias, you passively let the entire idea and label of “plant mom” slip from your brain. A pattern that followed you your entire life - never quite being able to follow through, see something to completion. Sometimes you almost feel as wilted as the abandoned petunias themselves.

This was why Jaemin, with his prince-like features, his romantic gestures and bouquets, swept you off your feet almost instantly. Rather than nagging you about a drawer being left open in the kitchen, a light left on in the living room, the messy dining room table after a night of arts and crafts, he would simply take care of whatever chaos you had left in your wake. You might’ve been a storm, tremendous and unpredictable. Yet Jaemin thought there was nothing more beautiful, and decided he was up for the thrill of the chase.

So it was only fair to humor him, to try again at the “plant mom” thing. After his consistent nagging reached a crescendo that rivaled only the oncoming cicada brood in terms of volume, you found yourselves strolling through the nearby nursery bright and early on a weekend morning.

“You’ve put this off all Spring long,” Jaemin lamented, gesturing wildly with his hand at the expanse of greenhouses before the two of you. “And look! Now there’s nothing pretty left!”

“What are you talking about, Na?” You could easily spot at least three to four different flats of colorful starters that had already caught your eye, and started to walk tentatively over in their direction. Before you could get too far, Jaemin’s firm grasp on your wrist prevented you from moving much further, a pout apparent upon his features. Instead he pivoted you both in the opposite direction, towards the more complex greenery and shrubs. You shot Jaemin a confused glance, which only led to a small laugh escaping his lips, followed by words that left your cheeks as crimson as the nearby roses:

“Those flowers weren’t nearly pretty enough for the balcony, let alone pretty enough for you.”

It had been Jaemin who had pushed you to apply for this job. You were blinded by the familiarity of the stressful retail gig you held long before the two of you even met. The ever changing schedule, along with the grueling work and constant understaffing was your unshifting reality. But you had health benefits and a small, but earnest 401K started - what could you really complain about?

Turns out, quite a bit. It wasn’t until one late night in bed, where Jaemin was massaging your back and shoulders wordlessly after a brutal shift - doing his best to water and tend to you, his most beautiful flower. Silently pressing his hands firmly on, around, all over your shoulder blades in a busy pattern, he tried his best to keep his anger contained to the intensity of his movements. How could they neglect you so? A flower of your caliber needed full sun - and Jaemin didn’t need to feel the tight knots your muscles had twisted themselves into to know that you were wilted. While he was especially gifted at keeping his mouth shut, a brief look at your pained, exhausted expression was all it took for him to slip, speak up.

“You deserve better than this.”

Immediately wide eyed despite how tired you were seconds before, Jaemin realized the vagueness of the previous thought, and clarified, pulling away from your body so that you could roll over, sit up. “N-not like that. This job is going to kill you.”

Your face softened. While stubborn to a fault, even you could admit Jaemin’s argument was sound. When was enough enough?

And then, doubt. Before you could even begin to imagine the possibilities, the blue sky ideas that could await you. Instead, you immediately hone in on the skills you don’t possess, requirements you don’t meet. The idea of not running on automatic, the thought of having to try, of doing something new. The overwhelming fear of rejection. Pulse racing now, each shallow breath in only made the thorns that had grown around your ego constrict themselves further, pressing in uncomfortably.

Jaemin’s arms find their way around your trembling body seconds later, his added weight bringing you back down to earth. You periodically feel his lips leaving gentle kisses, pressed with the utmost care along the back of your neck, the curve of your shoulder. In between, ghost whispers of comfort land reassuringly in your ear.

“You have so much to offer the world.”

“You deserve to be somewhere where you can shine.”

“Let's get you blooming again, yeah?”

The smile that graced Jaemin’s face when you told him you had a second interview scheduled was so bright it could probably be seen from outer space. True to his word, over the last month he helped revise your resume, hunt for job listings, prepare for interviews late into the night. There was gradually less and less tension in your muscles when Jaemin would massage almost nightly. Buds slowly began to appear on your stems, where rot had once been.

The second interview went great - or so you had thought. Then the hours after turned into a day, then two, then the week passed without hearing back. Your expectations had plummeted like a sagging helium balloon, days past its prime. The subject went unmentioned by both you and Jaemin, the silence instead speaking volumes.

The two of you were out on the balcony, music blaring. You’re sitting on an uncomfortable stool watching Jaemin below you, donned in a gardening visor and bright pink gloves. He was planting the flowers you were absolutely frightened to take care of, when the rejection email arrived, unceremoniously.

You blink once, twice, comprehending the words on your phone screen individually. Move forward - are you now set back? Other candidates - no, that’s you, you feel like the “other”, luck - you’ll need it, alright-

Deep breath.

You look over and down. Jaemin is so heavily invested in covering a starter daisy just right with soil that he missed your initial reaction, your brief show of raw emotion. Sensing your eyes on him, he looks up at you, squinting into the sun, smiles bright. If autopilot didn’t fail you now, the small smile on your face would convince him you’re fine, everything was fine.

But Jaemin was intuitive, he was smart, and he knew better. The speaker was playing some cheerful pop song, the weather was cooperating and tolerable. His nail beds were caked with dirt and soil, a favorite feeling of his from childhood that comes with the satisfaction of gardening. His wide eyes were still studying you. There you were, his radiant flower, sitting in the fullest and brightest of sun, and he had nurtured you back to growth.

So why weren’t you blooming?

“Are you okay?”

A small chuckle leaves your lips, knowing the truth and the inevitability of it all. This time when you blink once, twice, in an attempt to avoid Jaemin’s overwhelming gaze, you can feel hot liquid streaming down your cheeks, taste the saltiness of the tears once they hit your lips. You can hear the clatter of gardening tools being abandoned, plastic flats of flowers being shoved aside, and you can feel Jaemin’s broad frame envelop you seconds later, almost knocking both of you off the stool.

You lose track of the time, sobbing into Jaemin’s chest. An exaltation of the saddest manner, but necessary when coming from someone as normally stoic as you. His tight grip around you never wavered, the softest of rocking motions to settle you down, his familiar hands massaging at your weary frame. Loving words on loop from his lips.

“This is just a minor setback...it’s alright...”

“They don’t know what they’re missing.”

“We’ll get you back out there tomorrow.”

Eventually your brain stops screaming, though a headache remains. Your breath steadies into a slow rhythm. As quickly as it had arrived, the overwhelming anxiety courtesy of the rejection email disappeared. The once raging storm had subsided.

And still, Jaemin thought, there was nothing more beautiful.

#na jaemin #nct fanfic #nct dream fanfic #nct fluff #jaemin #nct scenarios #na jaemin fluff #na jaemin fic #jaemin fic #jaemin fluff #nct x reader #jaemin x reader #nct dream fluff

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whatareyousearchingfordean · 3 years

Text

Happiness Continues

Part 11: The Delivery

Summary: Jensen and Y/n welcome their newest addition to this world.

Pairing: Jensen Ackles x Plus Size Reader

Word Count: 7.2K+

Warnings: Language, angst, descriptions of labor and birth

Author’s Note: Baby Ackles is finally ready to make their first appearance. If you have been following this story since the beginning, you may want to grab a tissue, there just might be some tears (happy tears tho). Also, I will preface this chapter by saying I have never been pregnant nor given birth so please don’t @ me with any inaccuracies, I tried my dudes. Special thanks to my loves for the constant undeserved support and my devoted beta @emoryhemsworth xoxo Alex

Catch up with the series masterlist and then check out Alexandra’s Library for more by yours truly!

The winter sun had long ago dipped underneath the horizon, the night bringing a new level of quiet to the residential corner where the birthing center was located. Inside birthing suite two, the only soft light came from the LED strips that followed the length of the walls at the base and ceiling. Currently, they were tuned low and blue, the light mixing with the neutral decor in a way that made her feel like she was underwater.

Curled on her side in the queen-sized bed, Y/n watched out the window on the opposite wall. Through the sheer curtain, the center’s garden could be visualized. It expanded a few hundred yards until the treeline of the nearby forest began. In silence, she watched the water trickle from the stone fountain in the center. It had been turned off for the season, but the rain that had fallen earlier in the evening still clung to the piece, each drop falling in a slow rhythmic pattern.

Y/n found it more soothing than what the fountain had looked like last summer when they had first toured the place. She assumed if she was laboring in spring or summer, walking the trails in the garden would be something she found herself doing, even late in the evening as it was currently. But that was a dream she had let go of as the temperature dropped. All she had now was the counting of each drop in between contractions.

The instinct to hold her breath took over as the next contraction washed over her, the sharp inhale of breath alerting the dozing man next to her. Y/n closed her eyes and focused on taking deep breaths, trying to ground herself to the moment. Fingers pressed into her lower back, one on either side of her spine, applying counter-pressure to the contraction.

“Harder,” her word was weak, even in the quiet room. The pressure increased instantly, helping her to focus back on breathing through the contraction. It felt like a lifetime later when the pain began to subside before eventually tapering off. The sheets shuffled in the dark behind her before she felt an arm wrap around her abdomen.

“Where are you at?” Jensen’s voice broke into the room as he pulled her tight against his chest.

“I don’t know,” she admitted, her gaze back on the fountain outside. “Trying to be anywhere but here.”

“Is there anything I can do for you?”

“Birth our child?” she tried, unable to stop the smile from creeping up on her face. If there was one thing Y/n didn’t handle well, it was being in pain. She would put back up every wall that anyone had become successful in tearing down, choosing to stew in silence. It was a defense mechanism she had perfected long ago. Never let them see you sweat. Unfortunately, that also meant that she tended to get mean, keeping it all bottled up until she exploded like a shaken can of soda. She truly wished right then that she had a catheter in her back delivering the good meds to her lower body, but she had committed long ago to do this as naturally as possible, her comfort be damned.

“As soon as they figure out how to do that, I’ve got you, babe,” Jensen chuckled behind her, close enough for her to feel his breath on her neck. She nodded in unfortunate understanding, her hand coming to rest atop her husband’s where it lay on her belly.

“Actually, could you top off my water bottle?” Y/n spoke back up after a moment of content silence.

“Of course. Ice?” He questioned, already climbing from the bed to grab her bottle on the nightstand near her.

“Please,” she confirmed.

“Be back in a flash,” Jensen pressed a quick kiss to her forehead before leaving the room to get ice from the main kitchen in the birthing center. A sigh left her mouth as she pulled herself into a semi-sitting position on the bed and grabbed her phone from where it lay charging. There was a mix of messages in her notifications, all from friends and family with varying messages of encouragement. She appreciated the gesture but to be honest, what Y/n wanted more than anything was to not have all the attention on her. It was yet another symptom of being uncomfortable. Her solace lay in the simple fact that she was not expected to answer any of the messages she received, considering she was in labor and all. Forgetting why she even grabbed the device in the first place, Y/n noted the time and tossed it back on the nightstand.

It was officially after midnight. Well, technically it was almost twelve-thirty which meant it was Jensen’s birthday. Y/n had found it funny when he had called his mother earlier to let her know that the baby was coming, Jensen had made his stupid joke only to have his face fall when Donna had laughed a little too hard. Her husband was caught up thinking about his mother and teasing the older woman that it didn’t even cross his brain what Y/n going to labor meant for him. Now, as she found herself nearly seven centimeters dilated as the clock turned into the new day, it seemed their baby would share its birthday with their father.

Jensen came back then, breaking her out of her thoughts but unable to knock the warm smile from her face. He walked around to her side and perched on the edge of the bed, one leg tucked under him as he faced her. Y/n took a drink of the cool liquid, relishing in the calm it brought her.

“What is that smile about?” He had an equally bright smile of his own, unable to contain it as he watched his wife.

“Nothing just… happy birthday,” the pregnant woman shrugged in her seat, her eyes casting down to wear her hands now cradled her bump.

“Yeah, it is,” he agreed, his heart feeling so whole when he thought about it that it felt as though it might burst from his ribcage. There was so much love for the woman in front of him, he didn’t know what to do with it. It scared him sometimes. It didn’t matter what was happening at the moment, but he could look at her and he would forget for a second that the world existed outside them and all he knew was that she made everything okay. His heart would skip a beat so fast he barely noticed and the urge to cry became overwhelming. Only this time, he refused to fight it, allowing a few tears to well up in his eyes.

“What’s this about?” Y/n sat up, concern now etched into her features as she brought herself close enough to her husband that she could wipe away the single tear that had escaped down his cheek with her thumb. She had caught sight of it, of course, even in the low light of the room. In the few silent seconds that he sat there smiling, she felt warm under his stoic gaze, unsure of what was going on in that head of his. Jensen shook his head, his smile still not faltering.

“I love you,” he said simply.

“I love you, too,” Y/n agreed, her concern melting away and taking with it the crease in her brow. Her husband cradled her face in his hands, pulling her face up to press his lips to hers. He poured every emotion that was currently making him dizzy into that kiss, afraid that if he didn’t, she would never know. But she did know, and though Y/n didn’t need more than those three words, she couldn’t deny him the release he so evidently needed. The desperation seeped from his every pore as his lips brushed against hers, unwilling to part until the need for air overtook everything else.

A gentle knock on the door snapped his brain back down to Earth. Jensen released his hold on her face, watching as it took her a second longer to open her eyes once they parted. He cleared his throat before calling out.

“Come in.”

Their midwife, Melek, snuck into the room, not making a sound as she closed the door behind her. She turned the lights up just a touch, giving the couple a warning beforehand.

“Hey, I’m just back to check your progress,” she snatched a pair of gloves from their place in one of the drawers and came to the side of the bed Jensen was still perched on. He moved out of her way as Y/n scooted down the bed slightly. Melek asked Y/n how she was feeling as she went about her work. The midwife listened and nodded along to everything she explained.

“Well, we are getting very close. Based on how you’ve progressed so far, this baby could be here in the next couple of hours. You are going to start feeling the urge to push soon, might feel like you have to poop, don’t ignore that or any other changes you notice.” Melek stood from the bed and tossed her gloves before washing her hands. She made a note on the whiteboard in the room before coming back over to the couple.

“You are welcome to continue relaxing, whatever feels best. However, if you feel up to it, I would suggest taking a walk in the garden. I know it’s cold and late, but it will help to energize you before the big work starts.”

“Thank you. Is that safe?” Y/n was adjusting her nightgown back into place as she talked.

“Yes, if you choose to take a walk, I would go now. No longer than twenty minutes outside and I will be back in another hour,” Their midwife confirmed. The couple nodded in acknowledgment of her words, offering her more words of ‘thanks’ as she exited the suite.

“Well, what do you think, momma?” Jensen put his hands on his hips as he looked down at her.

“Couldn’t hurt,” Y/n shrugged. She offered him an innocent smile. “Help me put on my shoes?”

“Deal.”

****

A low groan emanated from her chest as she battled through her current contraction. Her hands were locked around Jensen’s neck as she rested her head on his shoulder. The actor was rocking her back and forth, once again applying counterpressure to her lower back.

“Oh god, I feel nauseous,” Y/n breathed out as the contraction subsided. She let up on the weight she had been putting on her husband.

“That’s normal though, right?”

“Yeah, I was just venting,” she let the air out of her lungs rush past her lips. “I don’t expect you to do anything about it.” Her words were clipped as they tumbled from her mouth before she could stop them. The laboring woman cringed as she felt her husband stiffen underneath her. The soda had popped. Her movements were hesitant as she raised her head to look at him, regret written across her face.

“I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay, you are allowed to do whatever you want to me today.” The smile that graced his lips was tight, but she suspected it was more from the exhaustion than anything. She could see the heaviness in his eyes.

“No, it’s not. Come on, yell at me. Tell me you don’t need that shit because you were just trying to be helpful,” she pleaded with him, the guilt heavy in her chest.

“You want me to pick a fight with you while you are in labor?” Amusement was heavy in his words.

“Yeah, please? I deserve it. You are being far too nice to me.”

“It’s not happening. Sorry, babe.” Y/n growled in frustration, causing her husband to throw his head back and laugh.

The sound of yet another knock had her releasing her grip on her husband as she called the midwife in. It was time for the hourly check of her labor progression, a task that Y/n had grown a distinct distaste for. As the hours came and went and it felt like nothing was happening, it all just felt pointless. At this point, she was begging this kid to come out.

Melek made quick work of the check, a smile on her face after when she pulled off her gloves. “Seems as though it’s time, momma. You are fully dilated. How are you feeling?”

“Uh,” Y/n shared a look with her husband as their midwife headed over to the tub on the opposite side of the room and started the water. She gave a quick synopsis of what had happened in the last hour before asking, “Are we pushing now?”

“We can start. Sounds like you’ve already had some urges to. Right now it’s about listening to your body and what it’s telling you. I’m going to grab the nurse while you get in the water.” Melek left the water running and the couple dumbstruck.

“Okay, I guess this is happening,” Y/n scoffed, allowing her husband to help her from the bed. He stripped down to his boxer briefs while she slipped off the gown she was wearing, leaving her as naked as the day she was born. Jensen helped her into the tub and down to sit between his legs. As the water reached its max level, he stopped the tap and urged her to sit back against his chest.

True to her word, Melek was back in no time with a nurse and everything else they would need. They flourished around the room, getting ready as yet another contraction hit. Y/n’s grip on her husband tightened, her mind focused on one thing now. Jensen was whispering in her ear, helping to guide her breaths. Y/n gave in to the urge to push, more than ready now to have this over with. The pattern was quick and repeated itself again, and then again, and again.

The time clicked away on the clock on the far wall, each passing minute mocking the laboring woman as it turned over the hour. If she had thought she was exhausted before, it was nothing compared to how she felt now. Sweat dripped from her forehead, small tendrils of hair that had fallen from the bun on top of her head stuck to her flushed skin. She dropped her head onto her husband’s shoulder, soft pants passing her lips as she tried to relax before the next contraction hit.

Only it didn’t take long, the pain returning before she even had time to think. The contraction had her doubling in on herself, concentrating on bearing down. Her scream originated low in her chest, the sound of it low as it echoed out in the room. Y/n knew that Melek was coaching her, but she couldn’t hear the words anymore, her body too far spent.

“I can’t,” As the contraction dissipated, she threw her head back and hid her face in the crook of Jensen’s neck.

“You can, Y/n. Your body was made to do this,” Melek encouraged, a hand on the poor woman’s shoulder. Y/n swatted it away as she let out another sob.

“No, I can’t. I’m too tired,” her shoulders shook as she let it all out. Jensen turned and placed a kiss on her temple.

“Honey, if anyone can do this it’s you,” he whispered in her ear. “I know you’re tired and that means you are ready to quit, but you can’t, not yet. Just think about holding our baby in your arms, you are so close.”

Another sob shook through her as she indicated her disagreement with his words. She wanted to believe him, she wanted to believe him so badly it hurt but Y/n had never felt so defeated in her life. This was finally it and she couldn’t do it.

“Look at me, Y/n.” He waited for her eyes to open and focus on him. “You can and you will. I’m right here, I’ve got you. You are gonna push this baby out and we are gonna love it so much all this will be a distant memory. Nothing else will matter but the life we created.”

“You drive a hard bargain,” she hiccuped out with a laugh. Jensen chuckled along with her, offering another kiss to her temple. They nodded at each other, silent words being passed between them just before the next contraction hit. This time she put all her energy behind it, refusing now to be defeated. It was far from easy, but only she could do it now.

She couldn’t be sure how many contractions later it happened, the only thing she was sure of was the instant relief that washed over her body. Her eyes snapped open as Melek pulled her gook covered baby from the warm water of the tub, holding up its long body so both her and Jensen could see.

“It’s a boy!” Melek announced, placing the infant against Y/n’s bare chest. It all happened in a second and Y/n was holding her son in her arms. Jensen was peppering her face with kisses and muttering soft praises, his arms wrapped around her and helping the nurse wipe the baby clean. More sobs racked her body as soft cries came from the tiny body in her arms. Everything felt like too much like her whole being was vibrating on some new frequency she didn’t yet understand. It was invigorating and terrifying at the same time.

“I told you!” Y/n turned to look at her husband, the sobs that had been shaking through her now intermixed with soft laughter.

“Yeah, you did, babe. I’ll promise to never question you again,” the smile on his face grew as soon as he realized what she was talking about. The giggles coming from his wife seemed to seep into him and soon he was laughing along with her.

Y/n feigned a scoff, chuckles still seeping past her lips and a beautiful smile on her lips. “Don’t make promises you can’t keep, Ackles.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

****

It took a while before anyone was able to pry her son from her arms and even then, she refused to give up to anyone besides Jensen. It wasn’t that she didn’t trust the nurse or midwife, she just felt that if she gave him up, the feeling in her chest would go with him. Only the soft voice of her husband was able to coax her out of the bubble she had wrapped herself into. Reluctantly, she handed the infant off to her husband who passed him on to be weighed and measured.

The nurse was then able to help her out of the tub and into the shower, washing away the remnants of her son’s birth from her body. In that short amount of time, she ached to hold her son again. Her mind couldn’t focus on anything besides him, and it pissed her off. She didn’t feel in control of herself, consumed by the maternal instincts now flooding her neurons.

When she emerged from the bathroom, Jensen was propped up against the headboard, his legs casually crossed at the ankle in front of him. Discarded still at the foot of the bed was his shirt he had peeled away before they had gotten into the tub, but he had slipped his Nike joggers back on his tall frame. His large hands dwarfed their son, who was only in a diaper, where Jensen held him against his chest. The couple shared a smile before she made her way over to him, climbing gingerly into the bed next to her husband and son. Y/n curled herself into his side as the nurse left them to be alone.

“Nine pounds and seven ounces, twenty-one inches long,” Jensen smirked down at the sleeping infant. Y/n choked out a breath, her jaw dropping open in the process.

“Jesus, I’m never gonna be the same,” she blew out a breath. The tired woman laid her head against her husband’s shoulder, her eyes never leaving her sleeping child. She could feel her husband shaking softly with laughter. Mostly, she was just as amused as him, but on the other hand, she wasn’t kidding.

As she settled into her spot, their son began to stir, his face scrunching into a frown. Jensen moved quickly, pulling the kid away and offering him to his mother.

“What, the first time he even indicates he might cry and you immediately hand him over to me?” Y/n leans away from her husband, a confused frown etched into her features.

“Uh, yeah, I don’t have the goods,” the Texan flicked his eyes down at her chest before looking back at her face. He had one eyebrow raised and a smirk on his face.

“Okay, how do you even know he’s hungry? Maybe he needs to be changed?”

“He’s fresh out of the womb and hasn’t eaten anything, you do the math,” Jensen held him out again. Y/n rolled her eyes for effect when the truth was she couldn’t wait to get her hands on that baby again.

“Well go get the midwife, I don’t know what I’m doing here,” Y/n tilted her head towards the door. She had one hand cradling the infant and her other was working to pull her gown away from her chest.

“Right,” he bounded from the bed, grabbing his shirt as he went and pulling it over his head. The door barely had time to shut behind him before he was returning, Melek in tow. The midwife was more than helpful, guiding Y/n and her baby through their first feeding. It took them a few tries before it seemed like they finally got the hang of it. Melek left them again to the peace of the early morning.

The sun had yet to breach the horizon but that didn’t stop the birds from putting on a show outside. Jensen had climbed back into bed with his family, situating himself as close as possible to his wife. It gave him the best vantage to watch the miracle they had created. He rested his hand on the baby’s head, rubbing his thumb across the infant’s hair.

Y/n didn’t even bother averting her gaze as her husband nestled into her side. She was far too transfixed on her son. Every emotion felt magnified a thousand times since she gave birth, to the point where she felt like she might burst. It was hard to sort through them, the exhaustion of her body not helping at all. Now, as she stared down at the precious life she and Jensen had created, the only thing she felt was calm. His eyes were closed as he fed, the soft gurgles and breaths he let out the only noise in the suite.

“He’s perfect,” she mumbled to no one in particular, she just felt it needed to be said.

“He really is,” Jensen agreed. “I had no doubt, which is why I got you this.” Y/n tore her eyes away then as Jensen procured a long velvet case from behind him. He offered the object to Y/n who took it with her free hand.

“What is this? It’s your birthday today, not mine,” she tried arguing.

“Just open it, you dork. Besides, you’ve already given me the best gift I could ever have,” Jensen urged her to open it. His eagerness washed off him as he smiled at her, his hand back on his son’s head.

Being careful to not jostle the child eating in her arms, Y/n used both hands to flip open the case. Laying against a dark cushion inside was a gold bracelet with a row of seven round stones in the center. She caught the card that was placed inside when it tried to fall away, reading the small paragraph.

‘Customised with seven beautifully crafted semi-precious stones amidst a string of shimmering beads. Each stone is traditionally associated with various characteristics that also typify those born in that particular month – The March birthstone is Aquamarine, which has a pale blue appearance and symbolizes honesty, loyalty, and happiness.’

The tears fell from her eyes as she read, threatening to turn into full-blown sobs. Y/n sniffed as her emotions continued to get the better of her, using the end of the blanket to wipe the wetness from her cheeks. Happiness. There wasn’t anything she could think of better to describe how she was feeling. It was indescribable happiness that had begun on that New Year’s Eve two years ago and continues through the life she now held in her arms. It was happiness she feared she would never get to experience, and yet, here she was.

“Jay, this is beautiful. But how-”

“I ordered one for February too, can’t be too careful,” he answered before she could ask, earning a giggle from his wife. “You really like it?”

“Honey, I love it. I can’t imagine a more perfect gift.”

“Here,” Jensen pushed away from the headboard and offered his hand to take the case from her. She handed it back to him, allowing him to take the delicate bracelet from its setting. He urged her to raise her arm, making quick work of clasping the piece of jewelry around her right wrist. “There, perfect.”

“Perfect,” she agreed.

****

The midwife cleared Y/n and the baby to go home just before noon that day. They had spent less than twenty-four hours in the birthing center, but as she dressed her son to go home she couldn’t help but feel like she was going to miss it. That stupid little room now held so much meaning to her, and she hated it. The exhaustion and hormones were making her stupidly sentimental.

As they turned into their driveway, Jensen was forced to pull their SUV into the yard since the entirety of their driveway was filled with cars. He hopped out of the driver’s seat to help Y/n from the car before grabbing the car seat with their son inside. Her husband allowed her to waddle along in front of him, a smirk on his lips when she looked over her shoulder before opening the gate to their home.

Across the stone courtyard, she could see their family all huddled in front of the expansive window that saw into their living room. Everyone waved excitedly as the new family made their way towards the house. Y/n took in the faces of her and Jensen’s parents, along with her brothers and their families. Jensen’s siblings were too far out to make it right now, but even still Y/n was surprised to see her brothers. Donna and Alan had come down as soon as they called to let them know Y/n was in labor, staying in their guestroom for the coming week to help the new parents adjust. She expected her parents too, even though they couldn’t stay longer than the night, rooming in Jared’s guesthouse and leaving in the morning. But yeah, her brothers were a surprise.

The family was greeted and the door, an array of excited faces welcoming them home. Someone had hung a ‘congratulations’ banner, with a matching ‘happy birthday’ one just below it. Everyone wrapped the new mother up in a tight embrace before passing her along to the next family member while the kids swarmed Jensen and the baby. It took quite some convincing from the parents to quiet down the little ones, all excited to meet their new cousin and forgetting that they needed to chill out as he was sleeping currently.

“Alright,” Jared’s voice broke above the commotion of multiple conversations. “As the godfather and the whole reason this child even exists, I call dibs on holding him first!” He looked to his sister, his brows high on his forehead as he waited for her answer.

“You all are going to get a turn, I don’t care who goes first. But stop saying you are the reason he exists, it’s weird… ” She waved him on before adding, “and don’t forget the sanitizer.”

Jensen lifted the car seat to the island as Jared bounced over to him. He literally was bouncing on the balls of his feet, his sister rolling her eyes as she followed behind him. The giant of a man moved delicately as he pulled the sleeping infant from the car seat. If she had thought her son looked small in her husband’s arms, it had nothing on how he looked compared to Jared. He took the newborn over to sit on the couch, all the cousin’s swarming him in no time.

“You need anything?” Jensen put his hand on her lower back to bring her attention from their family to him.

“A water?” She suggested as she looked over to him, knowing she would need it sooner rather than later. He nodded and turned to grab a water bottle for her. A soft ‘oh’ had her turning her head back towards her husband. Jensen stepped out of the way to show her their freezer full of Tupperware of different foods.

“We all made a few things for the freezer. I know Donna is staying with you for a little while, but once she is gone, you’ll thank me,” Y/n’s mother appeared next to her.

“Thanks, mom,” Once again she found herself fighting back the tears as she pulled her mother into a tight embrace. Sharon ran her hands up and down her daughter’s back as the younger woman refused to let go. Half of it was not wanting to let go, the other half was hiding her tears in the black sweater her mother wore. When she finally relented, Jensen was standing there with a tissue. He offered it to his wife who took it with a sheepish smile before he also hugged his mother-in-law.

The group in the kitchen returned to the living room where the rest of the family was, fussing over the baby. Jensen sat down in his chair near the fireplace that was angled to where the rest of the family was on or near the couch. He grabbed his wife’s wrist and pulled down along with him, situating her into his lap. The new mother fidgeted in her seat, struggling to get comfortable.

“Would you stop that?” Jensen’s voice was low in her ear as he squeezed her legs in a vain attempt to hold her still.

“I-,” She shifted again with a soft sigh before turning to whisper in his ear. “I’m very sore down there, and your legs are not the most comfortable right now.” His lips formed a thin line as he nodded. Before she could say anything else, he lifted and moved them both so she was situated in between him and the side of the chair, effectively taking the pressure off of her sensitive area.

“Better?”

“God yes,” she huffed before snuggling into his side. The couple watched content as their family traded their son around. The looks of amazement from the kids and the near tears from the adults filled her heart more than she imagined it could have ever been before. Just when she thought it was full, it somehow found room for more love and happiness.

“So, have you two decided on a name yet?” Sharon spoke up as he was passed to her. The older woman was gently bouncing on her feet, her husband peering over her shoulder.

The new parents shared a look, unsure which of them should answer the question to the information they had filled out in his birth certificate just before leaving for home. Everyone had been asking since they got the news he was officially here, though the couple didn’t have an answer as they struggled to come up with something. Jensen tilted his head to her, signaling that she should answer.

“Yes, after an agonizing two hours of staring at him and willing him to tell us what his name should be, we finally picked one,” Y/n explained, her husband chuckling next to her at the memory of her talking to him as he slept. “His name is Ezra Jay Ackles.”

There were murmured compliments and agreements that the name more than fit the little bundle of joy they had just welcomed into their family. Sharon passed Ezra on to his other grandmother, the woman giddy as she took over baby holding duty. Ezra had woken up by now, his dark eyes searching and unsure of the commotion around him, but he had yet to fuss.

“Did you go with Jay because he looks just like Jensen?” she questioned, not taking her eyes off the infant in her arms.

“Ugh don’t remind me,” Y/n huffed, her face scrunched up at her mother-in-law’s words.

“Hey, I thought you liked the way I looked,” Jensen pouted next to her, but she could see the twinkle in his eye.

“That’s not the point. It would be just my luck that I carried him for nine months, was in labor for over eighteen hours while also needing to feed him every two hours, for him to look just like his dad. Where’s the justice in that?” Y/n frowned as her family laughed at her confession.

“Welcome to my world,” Gen piped up. “All of them, little clones of their dad.” The Padalecki women all nodded in agreement to that sentiment, much to the annoyance of their husbands.

“Hey, the Padalecki genes are strong, we can’t help it,” Jared protested, making Jensen throw his head back in laughter.

“If that’s true then I guess the Ackles genes are even stronger,” the new father countered, earning a shove from his wife.

“Alright you two, put the rulers away,” her joke got the rest of the room cackling at the boys’ expense. That satisfied the woman more than she would ever admit.

Not long after the reveal of their baby’s name, the family began to pack things up and head out. It had been a busy and tiring twenty-four hours for the new little family, and their loved ones headed out to give them some peace. Once everyone was gone, Alan offered to go to the store and grab something to whip up for dinner, leaving just Donna with the new parents.

“Y/n, honey, why don’t you go lay down. I know you haven’t really slept since yesterday,” Donna piped up, noting how the woman’s eyes were getting heavy. She was curled up on the couch next to her husband who was holding their son once again. Donna was picking up the mess left by the family.

“Mmm that sounds good but he will have to feed soon, I should just stay here,” Y/n answered with a hum. She couldn’t deny, a nap sounded wonderful but everything was about Ezra and his needs now.

“Couldn’t we just give him a bottle?” Jensen asked, earning a shake of the head from both of the women in the room.

“No, if you guys are committed to breastfeeding, she’s got to get her milk supply in and the best way to do that is for him to feed. Also, there is nipple confusion,” Donna stated matter of fact with Y/n nodding along the whole time.

“Nipple confusion?” Jensen looked to his wife, confusion written all over his face. The term sounded familiar to the actor, but he couldn’t for the life of him come up with a definition.

“It means that Ezra could get confused between the bottle and the breast, and the concern is that he would prefer the bottle,” Y/n explained, her hand absentmindedly running along her son’s cheek.

Jensen nodded in understanding and shrugged, “Not if he’s my son.”

The new mother reared back in confusion. “Why?” was the only thing Y/n could say after she and Donna looked at him with equal disgust and disappointment. Jensen grimaced under their looks before she continued. “Your mother is in the room.”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, Mom, I don’t know why I said it,” the look of shame on his face morphed into fear as he prepared for a scolding, but that moment never came. Instead, Donna stood and walked over to where they were seated.

“Alright, give me the kid,” the older Mrs. Ackles reached out for her grandson. Jensen gave him up without question. “Both of you need to sleep. Don’t worry, I will come and get you if he gets hungry.”

“It’s best not to argue with her when she makes that face,” Jensen muttered under his breath, but not so quiet that his mother didn’t hear him. She raised her brow at him, an action that was remarkably similar to the one Jensen often emulated.

“I’ll take your word for it,” Y/n agreed, allowing her husband to help her to her feet. Jensen gave his mom a quick peck on the cheek in passing as he pulled his wife along with him to their bedroom.

Inside the curtains were still drawn from when they had left yesterday, only a small sliver of light peeking into the room from its edges. Neither of them bothered with changing, knowing it was too much work for now. Instead, Jensen just turned down the bed, allowing them to slip under the cool covers. He settled into the pillows, lifting his arm to invite her back to his side. Of course, she obliged, snuggling into his chest with one hand placed where she could feel the steady beat of his heart under her fingertips.

Jensen wrapped his arm around her, his hand resting against her arm, rubbing soft circles against her skin. He stared up at the ceiling in the semi-dark room, watching the spinning blades of their ceiling fan make countless revolutions. His mind was racing, all the emotions of the last day starting to get to him now that he had nothing else to focus on.

Y/n was silent as well, but he knew she hadn’t fallen asleep yet, her body still too tense to have fully succumbed to the exhaustion. If he wanted to ever get some shut-eye, he knew he had to get some things off his chest. He needed to let go.

“You know what this reminds me of?” There was a gruff undertone to his voice, yet it still managed to be soft as he sought to not startle his wife. She hummed in response, letting him know she was listening. “Our first night together. Well, after… everything.”

“How so?” Y/n shifted so she could have a better view of her husband who now had her full attention.

“I couldn’t sleep then either. Too much going on in my head,” Jensen took a deep breath, his eyes still on the ceiling as he continued. “I kind of have this tendency to push all my emotions to the side to deal with them another time, even if that other time never comes, but that night, I just… I couldn’t get myself to do it. As I stared down at you, sleeping against my chest with that stupid little content smile on your face, I realized that you were worth all of it, every emotion: the fear, the anxiety, and even the guilt; they were all worth feeling for you.”

The crease in her brow deepened as her husband confessed to her what he went through that night. Jensen looked down at her then, a smile on his face and tears once again pooling in his eyes. He brought up his hand to caress her cheek before continuing.

“I never believed in love at first sight, hell, I still don’t, because even through all of that fear and anxiety what I felt most of all was love, and that didn’t happen overnight. It happened in the weeks we had spent in the makeup trailer, in the way you trusted me with the things you wouldn’t even tell your brother, and in your sarcastic comebacks that never failed to surprise me. I spent weeks falling in love with you and didn’t even realize it.”

“The only thing I could do was watch you sleep, so irrevocably in love with you that I was scared if I pushed away those bad feelings… if I didn’t consider every possible thing that could wrong from that moment on, that I would lose the best thing in my life now, so that’s what I did, just watched you sleep and go over every possible scenario my mind could come up with of how us being together could go wrong. I know...” He had to stop again, needing a moment to take a shuddering breath. “I know that day when I told you we needed a break hurt you and made you question everything I ever said to you and sure we’re past it now, but I really need you to know that when I came to you that next morning and asked you to go on one date with me, I didn’t make that decision lightly. I had decided before you even tried to sneak out of the guesthouse that you were worth everything.”

“Why are you telling me this now?” After he was silent for a moment, she couldn’t bear it any longer.

“Because I… I feel so much right now that I can’t shut it out. The love I feel for you and our son right now, I want to stay in that feeling forever. Even if it means facing every fear or anxiety over making sure you both are safe and happy and thriving. I just had to let you know that you two are my whole world now and I will spend the rest of my life never letting you forget it,” Jensen confessed, allowing the tears that he had been biting back now flow freely. Deep down he knew it was what he needed, that release of every emotion before he could truly relax. Just like she also knew that the time for words was over.

“Thank you for telling me that,” she nuzzled back into his side, pressing her cheek against his chest to listen to his heart again. Y/n knew it wasn’t easy for her husband to admit all of that to her. Those true moments where he exposed himself fully to her were rare. Not that she minded, Y/n didn’t need him to cut out his heart and serve it on a silver platter. Her husband was a man of action. He showed her all she needed to know in every first cup of coffee he brings her in the mornings or running her a bath when she needs time alone. Marriage is as much about the little things as it is about any grand declaration. If you asked Y/n, she would take the soft smiles and lingering touches over a grand speech any day, but this was nice too.

Part 12: Home

Forevers: @22sarah08 @akshi8278 @anathewierdo @atc74 @awesome-badass-cafeteria-sauce @briagallen @callmekda @dawnie1988 @deandreamernp @deanwanddamons @ellewritesfix05 @emoryhemsworth @foxyjwls007 @hobby27 @janicho88 @jensengirl83 @katehuntington @lyarr24 @malfoysqueen14 @miss-nerd95 @mrsjenniferwinchester @msmarvelouswinchester @polina-93 @sleepylunarwolf @stiles-stilinski-24-dylan @smol-and-grumpy @suckmyapplejacks @superfanficnatural @supraveng @talesmaniac89 @thoughts-and-funnies @tranquility-or-chaos @waywardbeanie @winchest09

Happiness Continues: @afangirlreacts @anaelsbrunette @ashleyrose0117 @austin-winchester67 @cno92 @deanbowlegsackles @deangirl93 @deans-baby-momma @death-unbecomes-you @dvnmbabe @fangirl199813 @spndestiellover @hoboal87 @itsdesiree86 @jbsgirl4eber11 @let-me-luve-you @linki-locks11 @lunarmoon8 @neverland14353 @onethirstyunicorn @parinarain @rebeccathefangirl @rebelemilu @smoothdogsgirl @spnfamily-j2 @squirrelnotsam @stoneyggirl @supernatural3002 @traceyaudette @winchestergirl82 @winqhster @zpandaqueen

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kiyoominous · 3 years

Text

wishes (sakusa kiyoomi)

synopsis: sakusa doesn’t like making wishes, apparently they’re too childish. but he finds himself wishing that he never met you.

pairing: sakusa kiyoomi/reader

warnings: major character death, mention of hospitals

genre: angst, fluff if you squint, established relationship

a/n: i was listening to a lot of mitski when i wrote this :D click here for a youtube playlist to possibly listen to while you read!!!!! cross posted to ao3!

Sakusa wishes he never met you.

He’s never been one to invest in wishes. It makes sense with someone as no-nonsense, as practical, as logical as him. But life tends to push your boundaries and opinions and now he’s a believer, to his dismay.

He wishes he never said hello. He wishes his eyes never found yours. He wishes that he never sat next to you in high school and he definitely wishes he never asked to borrow a pencil.

“Of course!” you beamed brightly at him. Somehow, in amongst the sunny day, the smile on your face blinded him more than the light spilling into the classroom. But he didn’t mind.

Perhaps he got lost in the radiance of your face because he didn’t see the pastel pink mechanical pencil that was waving in front of him. He nervously snatched it from your hands and muttered a ‘thank you’ before quickly returning to his workbook.

He returned home that day, the gleaming image of you embossed in his mind. Reaching into his book bag, he found the mechanical pencil sitting right at the bottom of it. Oops.

The next day, he ran to your desk to dutifully hand your pencil back. It was slightly embarrassing to think that he was so consumed by your glow that he forgot to return what he borrowed. He had never felt himself stand more uprightly as he loomed over your seated form, graphite stick in hand.

“You can keep it, Sakusa. We’re friends now, right?”

Friends? The most he’d let himself call you was his classmate but sure, being friends sounded nice too.

He wishes he never let you speak to him, your intelligent words spilling like a fountain. He wishes he never heard you muse about language, culture, volleyball, anything really. He wishes he never heard the sound of your voice.

You were rambling on about something, Sakusa didn’t exactly remember what. Of course he was listening, it’d be rude of him not to. But he found himself tuning into the melodious noise of your voice rather than the words spill from your lips. He couldn’t help it, you had a way with his ears.

“Sakusa, are you listening to me?” you teased. The aforementioned boy nodded fervently but the sudden spring from his slouched form into a more poised position told you otherwise.

“You were talking about Latin or something.” he drawled lazily. You eyes widen in mock disbelief.

“Is that all you remember? Are you that bad of a listener?”

“Maybe you’re just boring.”

A moment of stunned silence and then a gasp.

“You are going to regret that, Mister Top Three in Japan.”

Sakusa felt a fist push into his arm. The sensation of the punch was so feather light so he thought that there was nothing to regret. Maybe he could get used to this. But not yet. It was too soon to think about a relationship. Or even holding hands.

He wishes he never looped his arms around your waist. He wishes he never soaked in the warmth of your embrace. He wishes he’d never been so close to you that the smell of your laundry detergent lingered in his nose.

First dates were nerve wracking. Sakusa thought it was ridiculous to feel so high-strung about dating, to feel nervous and shy and anxious. It’s just an outing, how bad could it really be? It’s a shame that he started to understand now instead of before all of this.

His hands were sweaty, his chest was pounding and his knees were wobbling. Really, his damn knees? All of this because the thought of having to touch you once in his life was sprinting through the back of his mind.

He knew you weren’t expecting him to kiss you at the end of the date. You were aware — and respectful — of his boundaries. That didn’t mean that he wasn’t feeling peer pressured by every romcom he had reluctantly watched with Komori to let his fingers brush against yours while you walked side by side.

It didn’t help that he wanted to do that either.

A gentle tap on his shoulder and you were staring up at him with puppy eyes he couldn’t resist. He hesitated before daintily wrapped his fingers around yours, pulling your intertwined hands into his pocket. It felt warm. You were warm. And now his body was warm. But it wasn’t warm enough, he wanted to hug you.

Wait, what? Pardon?!

With that, Sakusa felt his hand slip out of yours in favour of wrapping his strong arms around your figure, engulfing himself in your heat. Even with the biting cold, he thought that he didn’t need the jacket over his shoulders to keep him cozy. You were enough to set his heart ablaze, to let that fire warm up his entire body.

“Sakusa…” you gasped. Guess you were both just as surprised. He muttered something under his breath and you begged to hear it again.

“Call me Kiyoomi, please.” he repeated.

He inhaled the winter air and felt the bitter cold fly into his nose. He also noted the scent of fresh laundry detergent wafting amongst the chilly wind. Was he really letting himself be this close to you, so close that he knew the brand of detergent your mother used?

His agenda against physical contact nagged him but he didn’t care. Your touch was something he’d sacrifice his comfort for.

He wishes you never occupied his mind, he wishes you never meant so much to him, he wishes that he never loved you. He wishes that he never loved you because loving you brought him here, in his bed alone.

You were supposed to be there with him.

It was a shame that he loved loving you. He loved everything that you brought into his life. Your laugh, your smile, your terrible jokes. But he wishes he never let himself feel so comfortable with you that you knew him like the back on your hand. If he had just kept his damn mouth shut, then maybe it wouldn’t hurt so much when you weren’t around anymore.

It hurt so much to see you writhing in pain when he got home from practice. The second he saw you collapsed on the floor, his mind hyper focused on you and you alone. His usual shower session was ignored in favour of you.

It hurt so much to drive you to the hospital, to even think about your body lying on a stretcher or in an operating room. Sakusa ran through one too many red lights but he didn’t notice. He didn’t care. All that was running through his head was to step on the pedal, steer the wheel and make sure you came out of there alive.

Five torturous hours later and he learnt that you weren’t going to be breathing he saw you next.

It hurt so much to lower your casket into the ground, you face to never see the world again. His family, your family and all of your friends passed by, long hugs and pitiful apologies in tow. Everyone thinks that performative sympathy is going to help with the grief. It doesn’t.

Now you aren’t around to massage his back after a long day of practice, to listen to him whine about his teammates, to be the shoulder he leans on when he cries. Now Sakusa lies in bed alone, the bed you used to share with him, tightly grasping onto a pillow that he wishes could be you instead. He misses you.

He misses you.

The first few months were agonising. He couldn’t bring himself to do anything. Not even cleaning the house or playing volleyball or eating his comfort foods. You brightened even the dullest tasks in the world and now everything felt so bleak. It still does. The world around Sakusa felt so boring that he swore his vision lost its colour.

It took a miracle and the combined efforts of Komori and the Black Jackals to even get him out of his room.

He got better. After six months of a depressive episode, he pulled himself back into volleyball again. He had to, it was at least one thing he could do in your memory. Days and weeks and months passed and Sakusa saw his beloved sport as a distraction, as a safe haven from the absence of you. If he could, he’d distract himself with the real you instead.

The eventual push back into society didn’t mean that Sakusa was okay by any means. Some nights were easier, practice would tire him out so much that he’d be knocked out the second his body hit the mattress. Some nights proved to be not-as-easy, the sting of your passing pressed down on him like a weighted blanket. An unwanted weighted blanket.

Tonight is not one of those easier nights.

There’s an ache in his chest that he can’t shake off and there’s a rock in his heart that’s sinking it to the floor and there’s just so much pain coursing though his body. He’s never felt so sore before.

He hates feeling this sore.

A tingle rises in his chest and eyes and he knows he wants to cry but the water doesn’t fall. All he can do is heave heavy breaths and weep. Why does he have to live without you? Why? Breaking up with you would’ve been a breeze compared to your death, he thinks.

It’s been a year since his loss. He knows that he’s allowed to grieve for however long he needs but some voice in his brain whispers that he should be over it by now. Sakusa wishes that he’s not in so much pain, that his suffering wasn’t there to begin with, that you weren’t in his life to make him feel this tortured. But perhaps instead of wishing to rewrite the past, he should wish to be okay. He should wish that the memory of you doesn’t pain him anymore. He should wish that he can power through this without you because that’s what you’d want.

And so he does. He sits upright in his bed, closing his eyes in meditative thought.

I wish that this’ll be over soon.

I wish that I can return back to my life.

I wish that I’ll be okay.

So there’s not much of a likelihood that his wishes will be granted. So what? At the very least, he can finally feel the ache in his limbs and the tension in his shoulders and the tug of his heart slowly beginning to vanish.

He’s going to be okay.

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philliamwrites · 3 years

Text

The Dawn Will Come [Chpt.2]

Fandom: Fire Emblem Three Houses

Pairing: Dimitri x Reader, Claude x Reader, Edelgard x Reader, Yuri x Reader, Edelgard x Byleth, lots of minor pairings

Tags: #gn reader, # platonic love byleth & reader, #reader is a tactical unit, #angst, #slow burn, #subplots, #unreliable narrator, #pining, #remporary amnesia, #reluctant herp, #canon divergence, #lost twin au, #many chapters, #original content

Words: 6.7k

Summary: Waking up in a forest without any knowledge of your past and who you are, you join the house leaders of the Officers Academy to search for a way to return your memories. Unfortunately, the church has different plans for you, and Fate places you in the centre of a cruel game with deadly stakes. It certainly doesn’t help to fall in love with a house leader who is doomed to be your demise.

Notes: Chapter 1 | Chapter 3

Chapter 02: The Herald of Dawn

Hold me, O Night, with motherly affection, While the wan earth wakes with a misty yawn. By my blood will be born the Dawn and from my fleeting dream—the undying sun!

[Gabriele D’Annunzio]

Hushed whispers wake you from the dark. The crackling of fire sweeps away the last remains of weary unconsciousness, and you blink at a tent's ceiling. Someone draped heavy blankets over you, and with every breath you exhale, puffy white clouds rise up. The shadows of a fire dance across the walls, their blurry movements flush another wave of dizziness over you, and as you sit up, you notice a tight feeling around your head. When you raise a hand to your forehead, there is a bandage sitting tightly wrapped around your head, covering your right eye. The pain has finally stopped, but it still feels dully raw, like an injury that hasn’t healed properly and serves now as a reminder of anguish.

The memories from the battle rush back to you, the sound of metal hitting metal and heavy bodies dropping to the ground echo in your mind. Death was nothing new to the soldiers and mercenaries, so how come you don’t feel particularly sorry for the fallen? You’re no soldier, at least that’s what every fibre of your body tells you, so normalising killing isn’t right. You rebuild your surety of that, one shaky brick at a time.

Once on your feet, you make your way outside, drawn in by the smell of cooked meat and quiet chatter. The sight of a small camp greets you: more tents build a row on this side of the camp, and in the centre, solders sit around a small fire, their voices barely audible. They lean over a steaming kettle, their weapons at their feet or beside tree trunks—laid down for the night but still within reach.

“Heey, you’re finally back with us!” Claude’s voice rings through the camp, and several heads turn in your direction. As he waves for you to join him, you duck your head and move quickly to his side, wishing you could just merge with the ground and disappear from everyone’s attention. “Little one, you got us worried there,” he says. On his knees, he’s balancing a steaming wooden bowl, and the sight and smell reminds you how hungry you are. Your stomach agrees by providing a low growl.

“How long have I been out?” You barely recognise your own voice, the sound rough from exhaustion. Claude hums in thought and gestures with one hand to a soldier to bring you food, while his other pats the ground beside him for you to sit down. “We managed to march a couple of hours after cleaning up the mess from the battle. Right now we’re near the edge of the forest. There should be only one more day of marching until we reach the monastery.”

“And you guys are sure they can help me up there?” you wonder, watching the first group of soldiers get ready for the night watch. They’re frighteningly young, jostling and bumping into each other, laughing and stamping their feet against the cold snap that still lingers, the last gasp of winter before spring begins in earnest.

“If not there, I’m not sure there’s anyone out there who can help you.”

You glare at Claude. “Surely you must be the voice of confidence in this merry bunch, right?”

He laughs. “I’m the closest you’ll get to an optimist around here.”

“That’s reassuring.”

“Reassuring is my second name.”

“No, you said it’s von,” you mumble. Claude stares at you for a long minute, then bursts out laughing, the sound dark and rich. “No, that’s a noble prefix. You don’t even remember that?”

You open your mouth, and close it like a fish, feeling your cheeks raise in temperature. He shouldn’t make you feel guilty for forgetting something like that, and yet the shame settles in your bones and you want to smack your head against something to help your brain remember.

“Ah, but pardon my rudeness,” Claude purrs and gives you a mock bow. “I can tell you everything you want to know about nobility and how overrated it is. In fact, I might as well convince you to join the Alliance before Their Highnesses steal you to their side.”

“I’m not going to be on anyone’s side,” you mumble, and steal Claude’s blanket as payback, relishing in his offended expression. “It has nothing to do with me.”

Claude raises an eyebrow. “Ehh, I’m not so sure it’s that easy.”

“It is,” you insist, unable to hide the sulk from your voice. “Because I say so.”

Claude raises both eyebrows. “That’s not how it works.”

“Watch me.”

Something like a shadow flashes across his emerald eyes, but it disappears quickly enough for you to think it’s only the light from the campfire playing a trick on you. “We’ll see about that.” He scrapes the remaining contents from his bowl and lets out a satisfying yawn when he’s finished, stretching his long limbs like a cat getting comfortable. “Sooo,” he starts, unnecessarily dragging out the vowel and the sound of it locks up your shoulders into one tense muscle in preparation of what he’s going to say next. “Care to explain what happened back there?”

You take a deep breath. “You mean when it felt like my eye was going to fall out of its socket?”

“Actually I meant when you tripped over that one root after we found you.” He gives you a crooked grin. “But that’s interesting too, please go on.”

“I thought no one saw that,” you mumble, and avoid his gaze as you remember that stupid root that nearly broke your neck. Well, Claude surely knows a thing or two about tricking someone into talking about exactly what he wants to hear.

You thank the mercenary that brings you food, and notice it’s the one from the battle with the crooked nose. He gives you a just as crooked grin and limps back to his comrades. The stew warms your chilled bones, the rich flavour of meat and vegetables lifting your spirits and filling you with energy. As you eat, you drag out the minutes but Claude doesn’t even squirm as you let him wait, and starts whistling an off-key tune until you start to feel uncomfortable.

“Well, if I knew, I wouldn’t be afraid that it might happen again,” you admit begrudgingly. “Because that was scary.”

“Yeah, it didn’t really look like fun,” Claude agrees. “But what was it in the first place?”

“I don’t know.” You start to become weary of those words. “But it hurt.”

Claude gives you a sympathetic look, and goes silent, allowing you to eat, but you can’t shake off the feeling his mind is still trying to figure out what’s the deal with you. He can, for all you care. And once he’s done, he can write a report and hand it right to you so you’ll understand as well.

Out of the corner of your eye you notice someone moving towards you. Dimitri approaches you with caution like you’re a small animal he might scare off with hasty movements. But the look he gives Claude is that of a disappointed father, and he shakes his head once he’s standing in front of him. “Claude, we were supposed to not disturb our guest,” Dimitri says sternly, then bows his head in your direction. “Apologies. We should let you rest.”

“No, it’s okay,” you admit, and shuffle a little to the side to make room. “Please stay.”

Both boys exchange a quick look, but then Dimitri sits down, minding a polite distance unlike Claude who only needs to stretch his legs for his feet touch your knee.

“We were worried,” Dimitri starts. Just like Claude, he’s taken off most of his armour, and nothing about him stands out as a member of the royalty. He looks just like any other boy, and you’d never admit it out loud, but you already miss the blue tones on his uniform, the colour making his remarkably ice-blue eye stand out even more. “Luckily we could dispose of all bandits and return to a safe area. Byleth carried you here all by herself.”

“Yeah, remind me not get on her bad side, okay?” Claude laughs, but you think you hear a slight nervous tremble in his voice. “She looks like she can decapitate me with a butter knife.”

“She doesn’t look like it. She very certainly will behead you with a butter knife,” Dimitri provides with a pleasant smile as if he’s talking about the weather.

“See, and that’s why she fits best in the Alliance,” Claude says, winking at you. “We’re always full of surprises.”

Dimitri rolls his eyes and crosses his arms in front of his broad chest. “You might try it. I personally plan to convince her to join the Kingdom.”

“I think you’re both too late for that,” you say as you look to the other side of the camp where Byleth and Edelgard are currently engaged in a deep conversation, their heads leaning close to each other. Claude groans miserably, but quickly recovers as he turns to you, his eyes brightening up with excitement. “It’s okay, because once my disarming charm has wrapped you around my little finger, I’ll have an impressive tactician on my side.”

You almost choke on your next spoon of stew. “Tactician? I wouldn’t go that far.”

Beside you, Dimitri clears his throat. “Though I have to question Claude’s way of persuasion, I must admit he isn’t wrong about the latter. What you did back there was impressive.”

“I really didn’t do anything special,” you mumble at the same time Claude raises both hands leisurely and says, “Hey, it’s not my problem you think you’re immune to it, Your Princeliness.”

Dimitri grumbles something in a foreign language under his breath. Grinning smugly, Claude turns to you, and nudges your side. “Have confidence, little one. They’ll teach you everything you need to know up there.” He points up towards a mountain where you’ll apparently be heading tomorrow. If you squint, you think you can make out lights in the horizon brightening the night sky.

“That monastery,” you say, trying to ignore how Claude’s body radiates heat. “What exactly is that place? I’ve never heard of a monastery that holds a school. I think,” you quickly add, unsure what thoughts provided by your hazy mind are facts.

“The Officers Academy is a facility where students learn the arts of warfare, magic, and leadership,” Dimitri explains. He’s very obviously trying not to look at Claude, which in return has Claude’s grin widening even more. “The lessons provide us with everything we need as upcoming heads of our families. Swordsmanship, sorcery, authority, the history of our continent. There is much to learn for everyone attending the classes.”

“So it’s a death factory,” you translate, the sudden bitter taste in your mouth overshadowing the taste of the stew. “How can they just teach that stuff like it’s normal?”

“You saw it yourself, didn’t you.” Claude stretches his long limbs and leans back until he props his body up on his elbows. “Bandits and thieves everywhere.”

“And most students come from a noble house,” Dimitri adds. “They need to be taught how to take command, and about the responsibilities coming with leadership.”

You blow a strand of hair away from your face, mood dropped now that you know where you’ll be from tomorrow on. “This doesn’t sound right.” Though you can’t really say how a school is supposed to be instead. This is a world with different rules, and you aren’t sure if it’ll be easy to accommodate to them.

While the boys bicker how good the plot of the tale mentioned earlier really is, you see Byleth approaching. A bruise is forming on her left cheek, and she holds her arm as if bearing the pain from a wound. But nothing of that is portrayed on her face, as if her brain hasn’t registered she’s wounded yet and hence doesn’t need to express it.

“How are you?” she asks, sending the boys a quick look. Dimitri and Claude climb to their feet and wish their good nights with a quick bow. They hurry to Edelgard and gang up on heir, probably interrogating her about the conversation she's had with Byleth.

“I’m better,” you say, a little surprised you actually mean it. You feel refreshed and nourished, ready for another day of walking. Byleth sits down and watches the camp for a moment in silence. The chaos from before has settled into a quiet hum. Men and women sit together in little circles and tell their glorious battle stories with boisterous laughter, selling the illusion of a victorious life. But that might easily end the next day because of a hasty recklessness. No one thinks of that. Everyone is just celebrating, reaching for flasks and living in the moment. It’s a beautiful sight.

As the buzzing sound of people chatting subsides and the first turn in for the night, Byleth turns towards you, her voice lowered. “What you did back there,” she starts, and for whatever reason remains silent as if she decided talking about it isn’t a good idea. Shadows from the weakened fire dance across her face, and again you’re flooded with the unfathomable feeling of familiarity. It’s in the sharp lines of her face, the way her eyes move and settle on something as she observes her surroundings. It’s almost a painful sense of nostalgia. Something about this woman just brings you an unusual amount of ease, like it doesn’t really matter who you are, and rather that you’re here that makes the difference.

Before you can stop your brain, you’re already asking, “Do we know each other by chance?”

Byleth looks at you for a long minute, then slowly shakes her head, and you try not to show your disappointment too much. “I’ve travelled a lot with my father,” she says. “We’ve come through many lands and villages. You may have seen me at some point, but we’ve never exchanged a word until yesterday.”

You nod at the plausible explanation, but the feeling that this isn’t the right answer curls like a hook into your heart. “And your father hasn’t said anything about me as well?”

“No.” Byleth’s eyes follow your hands as they set down the empty bowl. Seeing that you’ve finished everything, she nods in approval. “And he doesn’t forget a face.”

“How do you all just … trust me,” you wonder, looking to where Jeralt is miserably leaning against a tree trunk as Alois keeps talking and talking. He looks like he wishes someone would take him down with an arrow.

“He doesn’t,” Byleth says. “And he calls me a little whippersnapper for that. He hasn’t called me that in the five years.” At the sound of the smile in her voice you snap your head in Byleth’s direction, but when you look, she wears the same bland expression like before.

“But you do,” you start carefully, not trusting your ears again, so you settle on staring at her until she gives another emotion. “Care to explain why?”

“For now, you haven’t given me any reason not to,” she states as if it really were that simple. It couldn’t be. Up until now Byleth has been your only anchor that your meeting wasn’t purely coincidental—that the reason shrouding your memories would dissipate like the night once dawn breaks if you just stick to her side, and everything will be revealed in time. But now without anything to hold on to, you feel like you’re slipping deeper and deeper into an abyss from which you can’t ascend. This feeling is terror fizzing in your blood like poison, and you shudder at the thought that you’ll forever remain adrift.

“Your powers,” Byleth continues, unaware of your mental breakdown right next to her. “They’re unusual, and if you learn to use them right, very dangerous.” Spoken by everyone else, this might sound like a threat, but Byleth says it like a simple statement, a fact, unaware how much she tilts your world with it. “What do you plan to do with them?”

You don’t have to think long about it. “I won’t do anything. Whatever it was, it’s over,” you say and gesture at your bandaged eye. It’s true. Since you woke up, your eye has remained calm, no red veil or eery proclamation someone might step into the campfire and burn alive. The pounding has stopped, and the normalcy of it is like a soothing balm.

Byleth studies you. You really wish she could give you more than her vacant expression. “You don’t know yet … your eye.” She takes your spoon and with the end of it, she draws a symbol on the ground. “Do you know what that is?”

You look at it, but nothing comes to your mind. It’s just a four pointed star with two lines crossing the right and left tips. “No, I’ve never seen it.”

Byleth holds your gaze as if she hopes to find a lie written between your eyes, and this time you don’t look away until she relents with a barely audible sigh.

“Why do you ask?”

“Because before you passed out, it appeared here.” She taps a finger against her closed, right eye, then points at you. Your body goes rigid. Immediately, your hands fly up to tear off the bandage, but Byleth catches your wrists and holds them down. “Not yet.”

“I want to see it.” Your breath catches in your lungs. It sounds like you need air because you’re drowning. “I want it off. Take it off!”

“I can’t show you, there are no mirrors,” Byleth says quietly, and throws a quick glance around the camp to see if your panic has alarmed anyone. You want to point out that you could use the reflection of her sword, but maybe Byleth has considered the same and thought it a bad idea, because she doesn’t know what else you might do with a weapon in your current state. Seeing that fighting against the vice grip she has on your hands is futile, you slump down, your arms falling slack back to your side. “Just what… what is happening. What is that?”

“Edelgard said it might be a Crest, but none she or the others have seen before,” Byleth explains. “They told me there is a teacher at the monastery who studies Crests.” She gives your arms a barely noticeable squeeze before she lets go. “So it’s going to be okay.”

“How can you say that?” you nearly sob, and wish you could hold onto her longer as she stands up and brushes dirt off her uniform. “How can you be so sure?”

“I’m not,” Byleth says, giving you one last look. You want to tell yourself it’s something like worry you see in her eyes, but her expression remains blank, like a board that’s been wiped clean. “I can only hope.”

The next morning, Jeralt and Alois set an unforgiving pace, determined to reach the monastery shortly after dawn broke. While everyone else couldn’t wait to reach their home as fast as possible, you feel worry grow with every step up the hill towards the walls and towers. The monastery looms like a stronghold, a building so tall and intimidating, built to make people feel small.

You were allowed to take off the bandage, and there was nothing worse than knowing something was on your eye but you couldn’t see it. Unlike everyone else. They kept staring at you, mumbling to each other in quiet whispers, and more than once you considered telling them that just because your eye was different it didn’t mean you were blind. It was reason enough for you to put the bandage back on and stay away from the soldiers and mercenaries, leaving them to their superstitious rumours. Who could have thought that you’d grab someone else’s attention entirely with that revelation.

Even before the first sunbeams broke through the budding branches, the wind carrying the smell of spring and new life, Edelgard stuck to you like a tick. It wasn’t hard to find out she was more interested in your Crest than you as a person, and every question you couldn’t answer fuelled her irritation. Still she was nothing but determined to squeeze the tiniest information out of you, and even though you tried to avoid her by either marching way too fast or way too slow, Edelgard didn’t relent and remained by your side. Fear is a little exaggerated to describe what you feel towards her, but it's close. Whenever her sharp eyes focus on you, unease takes hold of your brain and the words leave your mouth as nervous stammers. It certainly doesn’t help that you know she can easily hack off a grown man’s arm without so much as blinking. Or that the corners of her mouth curl up into the sweetest, rare smile.

Once you’re on the trade road up to the monastery, pebble makes way to smooth cobblestone. Giant iron doors stand wide open, and as your group enters, a merchant’s cart rolls past you and greets the returning knights. After the first entrance point, the second waits in the form of a portcullis and more knights standing on guard. Past the second ring of walls, you enter a small forecourt. On both sides are stalls and booths with merchants screaming their prices and the sound of metal hammered into the right shape at the blacksmith’s. At the foot of wide stairs leading up into the first building, a man dressed in dark blue robes awaits you, his strong arms crossed behind his back.

“Welcome back,” he greets Alois and the students. “Your messenger bird has reached us yesterday late into the evening, and preparations have been made.” To Jeralt, he says, “My name is Seteth. I am an adviser to the archbishop. Lady Rhea awaits you.” Jeralt nods but he looks a lot more cautious since you’ve entered the monastery grounds. At the mention of that name, his posture visibly tenses, but he gestures to Byleth and you to follow him nonetheless.

“We shall return to our respectable classes for now and make known we are unscathed,” Dimitri says. “Please, Byleth, and you too, if things have calmed down, meet the other students as well, won’t you?”

“Ohh, good idea. You have to go around and introduce yourself as our great saviours.” Claude winks at you with both thumbs up. Edelgard slaps his hands back down.

“We’ll be standing here until evening if we don’t get going," she says. "Please give Lady Rhea our regards. We’ll report to her once everything is sorted out about you.” She eyes you sideways, then ushers the boys down another hall like a mother hen. You exchange a quick look with Byleth who already looks very exasperated with the student’s antics.

�� Seteth leads you into the Audience Chamber, a rectangular room with statues decorating the walls, and asks for you to wait. The moment he leaves the room, you turn towards Jeralt and Byleth and ask, “Who is this Lady Rhea?”

“I’m aware Byleth doesn’t know much about her, I haven’t taught her he teachings of Seiros, but you—” He stops mid sentence seeing the way you look at him, and clears his throat. “Lady Rhea is the archbishop of the Church of Seiros. She’s commanding the knights and sees that the people don’t do anything stupid in the name of Seiros.”

“Seiros?” you ask, turning the name in your head. Nope, nothing.

“You know, the one who defeated the King of Liberation and founded the Church of Seiros?” When you just shrug, Jeralt scratches his beard and hums in thought. “Well, I sure won’t be the one preaching what you should know or not. But maybe don’t make it all too obvious you aren’t a follower.”

Or what, you want to ask, but Seteth returns and he isn’t alone. The woman walking ahead of him looks like she belongs on the portrait of a saint. It isn’t much that she walks towards you, but rather strides in grateful steps to the middle of the room, her chin raised high and shoulders squared. And yet when she looks at your little assembly, her eyes are soft and kind, her expression open and friendly.

“I welcome you into these sacred halls,” she says, her voice like soothing velvet on your skin. “Alois informed me of what happened, and I thank every one of you for saving the students.” Lady Rhea smiles at you all separately. Her eyes linger on you, and she titles her head slightly. “I've also heard about the wondrous things that happened to you. Please, be so kind and remove the bandage. Let me take a look at this Crest.”

You hesitate, your fingers playing with the hem of your shirt. But Rhea waits patiently and raises a delicate hand when her advisor Seteth flinches to repeat her request. Slowly, you take the bandage off, barely able to imagine how the symbol or Crest as they call it looks upon your eye. When you meet Rhea's gaze again, her smile freezes, and her eyes widen in surprise. Her lips part slightly, then stretch into an ecstatic smile. Beside her, Seteth inhales sharply. “This is impossible,” he breathes, growing pale. You start to panic.

“Why, what's wrong with me? What is impossible?”

“Nothing, nothing is wrong,” Rhea quickly reassures you, but it's hard to believe when Seteth looks like he's seen a ghost. “A fortunate day indeed. Not only does one of the strongest knights to have ever walked these halls return, but it also seems that a new chapter of history dawns upon us.”

All eyes land on her, one more puzzled than the other. Even Seteth doesn’t look like he fully comprehends what’s happening. “Lady Rhea?” he asks cautiously at the same time as Jeralt demands, “What are you talking about?”

The archbishop ignores them both, and the longer she gives you that pleasant smile, the more unsettled you feel. “When Alois wrote about a Crest appearing on your body, I was not sure what to think of it. But now, I cannot hide my joy at the return of a Crest that we thought was lost to history.”

“I—I don’t know why I have it,” you quickly say, feeling you have to defend yourself before they accuse you of stealing it. Can Crests be stolen in the first place? “I don’t remember why I have it.”

Lady Rhea nods, her solemn expression making way to worry. “Of that Alois informed me as well. You may stay here until your memories return. Allow me for now to tell you about the Crest. Maybe that will dissipate some of the darkness shrouding your mind.”

You nod, and brace yourself for whatever she’ll reveal. It certainly helps that Byleth stands close to you, her mere presence a standing stone you can hold onto for now without drifting away.

“It is a Crest most uncommon,” Lady Rhea explains, her hands gracefully crossed in front of her. “For there was only one person who bore it. This Crest belonged to the very one who served our Lady Seiros against the evil powers that threatened Fódlan thousands of years ago. He was known as Seiros’ Champion. The Herald of Dawn.”

She allows those words to sink into you, and how deep they sink. Now that they’re out here, you feel like they pull you down, deeper down into a dark sea from which you can’t surface. The only result is drowning.

“Herald of … you don’t think. You can’t think—” Your thoughts move way too fast, you can’t grasp any to sort them.

“What I think means nothing in light of what has transpired and therefore is reality. You are chosen by the Goddess herself to bring hope to the people of Fódlan. You are the Herald of Dawn.”

You feel sick. It may be phantom pain, but you could swear your right eye starts hurting again, as if the Crest is reacting to the revelation, the call of its true nature. You dig your trembling fingers into the fabric of your jacket, considering for the tiniest second to gouge your eye out. Can’t be anyone’s champion or Herald without the Crest, right? “So, you’re saying … am I the one from back then? This Champion?” If you were really the same person, how were you still alive after a thousands of years? The prospect of finally having an identity is great, but you aren’t sure you’re ready to pay the price that comes with it. And this one seems to carry a very heavy price.

“That seems quite impossible.” This time Seteth speaks up. He looks just as unnerved by this revelation as you feel. “The Herald appeared when Saint Seiros was in dire need, and once his duty was fulfilled, he vanished. ”

“But now, another Herald has come, and with you the promise of suffering and hardships,” Rhea explains, her expression now strict and foreboding. “The task of giving hope is the most difficult to ask of a person. But that is the path the Goddess has chosen for you.”

“No, no, you’re wrong. I’m no Herald … and certainly no Champion of anyone. I can’t give people hope, I don’t even know what to give them hope for!” Your voice borders on hysteric, but you’ve never been more determined to plead your case. “I’m not the right person. I’m really not.”

“Then how come you bear the Crest of Seiros’ Champion, my child?” Lady Rhea asks, and you notice the tiny shift in her voice. The kindness grows thiner and thiner, and in its place austerity and even coldness settle—the voice of authority and undeniable command. “It is Our Goddess’ will. The Church of Seiros needs you. The people of Fódlan need you. You cannot turn away from your Fate.”

You want to argue that yes, you can; you’ll turn around and leave this place filled with crazy people and their fanatic beliefs. One look from Byleth stops your thoughts. Lady Rhea interprets this silence as compliance, and nods, visibly pleased. “We have waited for this opportunity for so long,” she continues, now smiling again. “There shall be festivities today. As a welcome to our Herald, and the return of Blade Breaker Jeralt. For you, his daughter, we have also thought of a task that will greatly help Garreg Mach.”

Jeralt grunts, clearly unhappy, but Byleth only cocks her head to one side. You’re astonished that after everything, she’s still awfully calm and collected.

“A teaching position has become free as of yesterday,” Lady Rhea explains to Byleth. “By Alois' recommendation, you are to take that position and teach one of the Houses here at the Officers Academy. Your colleagues will provide you with further information. As for you,” and you flinch when she turns to you, afraid what else she has in store, “you too shall teach the students the course of leadership and command. Seiros’ Champion was a great tactician. He honed Saint Macuil’s abilities. I would not be surprised if you too show an unparallelled gift for strategy.”

“Well,” you start, but the hesitation is clear, and Lady Rhea smiles like she knows what you can do once the Crest is activated. “Whereas you are to choose one house,” she tells Byleth, “the Herald will hold seminars. As a servant of the Church, you cannot call in favourites.”

“I don’t even know what to teach,” you mumble weakly. “How to teach.”

“Me neither,” Byleth says, the first time she’s spoken since entering the Audience Chamber. The amusement glinting in Lady Rhea’s eyes is like the sun reflected on a purling river. “Do not worry,” she says. “You will learn in time. And we are here to help you as well.”

On your lips lie the words that they certainly didn’t help you. You came here so they could help to search for a way to return your memory.

Instead, they made everything worse.

The ceremonial robes hang heavy over your shoulders. The feast hasn’t started yet, but you’re already sweating and panting with the weight of the golden embroidery and the head piece decorating your forehead. When Seteth brought everything in a couple of hours ago, he was grumbling something unintelligible under his breath, at his side a little girl who, unlike him, was happy to meet you and to see that you’d take on the role as the Herald. You wanted to tell Flayn there was a difference between want and have to, but she was already focused on helping you dress and prepare for the festivities. Servants handled the remaining tasks of making you presentable, and now you’re standing in front of a giant mirror, observing yourself.

It was scary how things changed so fast. Not even 24 hours ago, you were a nobody, a nameless figure roaming the woods, and now there is a name that isn’t your own—no, not a name. A title. A title that will all but replace your name. History won’t remember you as a person, they will remember the deeds that you’ve done, the mistakes that you’ll commit. Lady Rhea spoke of honour like it’s a crown on your head, but you see the noose that it really is around your throat. The head piece feels too heavy, and the golden necklace sitting on your neck reminds you more of a dog collar.

There’s a knock on your door. Seteth said that someone would get you before everything starts, and you don’t even try to hide the relieved sob when Byleth enters the room. She examines you from head to toes, and leans her head to the side, one finger on her chin. “You look … different,” she says.

“You mean ridiculous.” You move your arms, demonstrating how the wide sleeves flap uselessly at your side. “I wish we could do this all without me looking like a sack of potatoes.”

“I had to think of cabbages, but you aren’t wrong either.” She crosses the room and looks outside the window. You can already hear the masses as they enter the Cathedral, and it does nothing to calm your haywire nerves. Byleth seems to notice as much. She turns to you, and asks, “How are you holding up?”

“Do you want the real answer or the one I prepared for Lady Rhea?”

Byleth raises a brow.

“Not good. I’m just … how could this happen?” You throw up your hands in frustration, and the robes give a dangerous tearing sound. Your arms fall immediately down, the thought of damaging a hundreds of years old ceremonial robe the last thing you need today. “Of all the things, how could I suddenly become some figure of the Church.”

“Is it so hard to believe that the Goddess of Fódlan has lead you to this path?” Byleth crosses her ams and leans against the wall next to the window, eyeing you curiously.

“I don’t even believe in this Goddess,” you groan, flopping on your bed. The chambers chosen for you overlook the bridge leading to the Cathedral where people swarm inside like little ants returning to their anthill. It was a small room equipped with all necessities for comfort but no additional expenses on luxury. A bed, a dresser, a simple table and chair, a mirror, and a shelf take up all the space. Not that you could have brought anything with you.

You look up at Byleth and dread the next question. “Do you believe in it?” you ask. “That I’m someone chosen?”

“Hmm.” Byleth casts one last glance outside, then pushes off the wall, gesturing you to follow her. You sigh, and mentally prepare yourself for what will happen in the Cathedral. Before you leave the room, Byleth rests her hand on the door handle and looks back at you over her shoulder. “I don’t know. Where I’m from, belief doesn’t save you from the sword of a thief. Only deeds and actions. It’s the reason my father and I are still alive.” She considers you for a moment, and when you blink you imagine you see the tiniest smile on her face. “What you did yesterday was very much real to me. Maybe a Goddess guided you, maybe it was just lucky instinct. But you saved my life, and that certainly is something I can rely on.”

She doesn’t wait for an answer, and swings the door open. You quickly follow, your steps feeling a lot lighter than before. “I guess I’m just frustrated,” you admit, carefully paying attention your voice isn’t too loud. “That they think there’s someone who can just decide how my life is going to be. Like this herald business suddenly defies who I am.”

“As long as you don’t forget who you are, does it matter?” Byleth wonders aloud, turning down another corridor that ends in stairs leading down. “As long as there is just one person who doesn’t forget, does it really matter?”

Maybe not to her, but for some inexplicable reason, it means a great deal to you. So you answer with a grumble, and Byleth hums like she knows she’s right. To change the subject, you ask, “What about you? How can you just follow along with being a teacher here?”

“Truth be told, I’m not happy,” Byleth says, nodding to the knights standing on guard in the first floor that leads outside. “But at the same time I can see Lady Rhea’s reasoning. Those students need someone who teaches them not to be stupid on the real battlefield. Especially when they are to be future rulers of Fódlan. If I’m the one shaping those little whippersnappers, I can rest at ease.”

You follow her down the hallways, staying silent until, “Whippersnapper is such a weird word,” you say.

Byleth gives a huff of air that barely passes as a chuckle. “It is.”

Together you leave the living quarters and enter the Cathedral at the backside where everything is closed off for the rest of the people. Lady Rhea and Seteth are already waiting for you, both dressed in equally complicated robes as you.

“Thank you, Professor.” Lady Rhea nods towards Byleth, who nods back and joins the other teachers. “And now, Herald, it is time to meet the sheep you shall shepherd from today on. Please, follow me.”

She doesn’t give you time to prepare for the crowd waiting for you, and glancing at Seteth for help doesn’t do anything either as he just crudely nods towards Lady Rhea, telling you to go along. You square your shoulders and hope for the best.

The Cathedral has been decorated with candles and tapestry showing the banner of the Church of Seiros and above it the Crest of the Herald. A platform has been built for your entrance, and stepping on it, your gaze roams over all the assembled students, clergy, and knights. Seeing them, you feel terror seize your body, locking up all muscles. The masses look at you with hunger in their eyes, ready to devour you like you’re the last piece of bread on the table. “Herald, Herald! ” they cry, and each time they open their mouths, the noose tightens around your neck. Saint and Martyr vaguely dance at the edges of your mind, beyond your grasp, mocking how you know them but don’t understand their very being. This is bigger than you. This is far bigger than you can manage, and you want to run away and hide from their greedy eyes.

Scanning the crowd, you notice the house leaders in the far back. Edelgard looks unpleased, her mouth set into a grim line, while Dimitri claps politely with the rest, and Claude raises a golden cup in mocking salute. You really want to break down and cry. The only solid point is Byleth, has always been Byleth up until now, at the other end of the room, holding your gaze steadfast like a pillow of strength in troubled waters.

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wiypt-writes · 3 years

Text

Stark Spangled Banner

Ch:17 I’m Not Going Anywhere

Summary: Katie keeps vigil at Steve’s bedside and in full protective ‘dad’ mode, Tony engages the Stark Industry lawyers when the UN Senate comes calling. But the Winter Soldier has gone back into the shadows, taking one of Steve’s only living ties to his past with him. And no one has a clue where he’s gone.

Pairing: Steve Rogers x OFC Katie Stark

Warnings: Violence, bad language words, angst and smut (NSFW) NO UNDER 18s thanks.

A/N: I LOVE LOVE LOVE these edits once more from @angrybirdcr

Disclaimer: This is a pure work of fiction and classified as 18+. Please respect this and do not read if you are underage. I do not own any characters in this series bar Katie Stark and the other OCs. By reading beyond this point you understand and accept the terms of this disclaimer.

Chapter 16

Stark Spangled Banner Masterlist // Main Masterlist

“He’s panicking…let me talk to him.” Her voice was soft but full of authority.

Then, a familiar hand closed over the one that he held over the mask on his face and she gently spoke this time directly to him.

“Shhhh…” He felt her other hand gently run over his forehead. “Baby, you’re in an ambulance. Try and stay calm, okay?”

And then his eyes focused, just for a second. The panic that had hit him dissipated as Katie’s face filled his vision and he gripped her hand, not wanting her to leave him.

“I’m not going anywhere…” She assured him. “I promise.”

And he believed her. He felt himself relax and fell back against the bed and his eyes closed again, the last thing he heard and felt was her…

Steve’s hand was still tight around Katie’s when they arrived in the emergency room. She went in with the paramedics who took Steve in charge and, as they escorted Steve into the operating room, the realization that she finally had to let go of him crushed her. The same Doctor who had taken care of Fury and her in the warehouse approached her with a nod, and she was suddenly extremely thankful that the Director had as many fingers in as many pies as he did. It was an overwhelming relief to see a face she knew she could trust.

“Miss. Stark, I need you to leave the room, please. I’ll take care of him from here.” The Doctor put his hand on her shoulder to support his point and dropped his voice. “I promise. Fury’s orders”

Ignoring the urge to argue she let go and took a step back, her eyes still focused on the Steve as he lay on the stretcher.

“Heart’s rate climbing, doctor!” Announced one of the nurses. Katie could still see her soldier’s face disfiguring and the slight raising of his eyebrow and clench of his hand if he were trying to hold on to something. She let out a sob as she realised he was looking for her because she had left him, after promising she wouldn’t, and then the double doors of the operating room closed. Finding herself now alone and completely helpless, her limbs began to clench and she was suddenly very aware she was trembling. Then, it was as if someone had tightened a band around her chest, leaving her panting for air as her vision became more and more obscured by tears of panic.

She caught herself against the nearest wall before feeling her legs give way. She managed to lift them into a bent position, before bringing her arms around them so she could hide her head behind her knees as her throat felt like it had completely closed. She concentrated on Steve’s images floating around her brain, his touch, his kisses, how he held her, made love to her, the feeling of his laughter, his eyes, all their moments together.

We could get married if you want…

His face as he had spoken those words, the look she hadn’t been able to place suddenly registered in her brain. He had been hopeful. She closed her eyes trying to hold on to that memory. Eventually, after what felt like a life-time, she felt her throat begin to open again allowing her to take a deep breath, then the tightness in her chest and lungs eased and finally her brain. The hiss of silence in her ears was replaced by the usual murmur of a hospital and she could once again feel the sensations coming back along her limbs. She loosened her arms around her legs, stretching them out in front of her, and lifted her head to lean against the wall.

She had no idea how long she sat there. Minutes, hours…it all blurred into one as she focussed her attention on the doors he had been taken through. Eventually, her little bubble was invaded by a familiar figure hovering over her before Natasha slid to the floor, legs lying in front of her, her arm wrapping round Katie’s shoulder.

“Any news on how he is?” She asked.

"They’re still treating him, as far as I know.” Katie sighed, her head resting gently against Nat’s.

Natasha nodded briefly in acknowledgment before turning to look at her friend. “And you? How are you holding up?”

Katie looked at her, but didn’t answer as Sam’s familiar voice cut across the corridor.

“Katie! Natasha!” He hastened to join them, letting Katie take in his civilian change of clothes. He was bruised too, but overall, he looked okay. “How is he doing? Any news?”

Natasha took it upon herself to answer Sam. Meanwhile, Katie finally decided to get up from her position against the wall. The sudden movement and the long time spent in an identical position made her stagger a little. Sam hastily raised his hands to catch her.

“I brought you a change of clothes.” Nat spoke gently as she too stood up. “I’m so sorry, but I can’t stay. I’m already being summonsed for questioning, but Hill and I are going to do our best to keep your names out of it, both of you.”

“Frankly Nat, at this moment I couldn’t give a fuck about what my name is dragged into.” Katie snapped, her ton a little harsher than she had intended. She sighed. “Sorry…”

“It’s okay.” Nat shook her head, her green eyes catching Katie’s “Look, call me as soon as there’s news.”

She nodded. “Can you call Tony for me? He’s already tried ringing but I can’t bring myself to try and explain.”

“Sure.” Nat nodded. She pulled Katie into a hug, before she headed off up the corridor.

“Katie.” Sam spoke gently. “There’s a waiting room down there.”

“No, I’m staying here.”

“You need to get a proper rest. You got shot yourself yesterday, remember?” Sam reasoned, his tone patient/ “Come on, you’re no good to Cap if you aint in top fighting form.”

Katie gave in and let Sam escort her to the waiting room where the two of them sat in silence. It was around four o'clock in the afternoon, some three hours after they had arrived, when the SHIELD doctor made an appearance. Katie was half-lying with her head against Sam’s shoulder as he was changing the annoying channels of the hospital TV every ten seconds.

“Miss. Stark?”

Sam turned off the television almost immediately while Katie was already on her feet in impatience.

"Yeah?”

“Sorry it’s taken so long but there was a few complications.”

“Complications?” Katie frowned “He’s got fucking super serum coursing through his DNA, it’s supposed to help him heal”” “And it did, meaning the wounds had started to close over which caused us a bit of an issue but he’s out of theatre and the surgery was a success.”

“So he’s gonna be okay?” Sam asked and the Doctor nodded.

“He lost a lot of blood but we’ve given him a transfusion and his vitals are stable. He’s gonna be fine.”

Katie let out a sob and covered her face with her hands, relief flooding every cell in her body as Sam wrapped an arm round her.

“We’ve moved him into his own room and it will be a while before he regains consciousness, how long we can’t say.” The doctor continued gently, before looking round and then back to her, his voice lowering “We have an armed guard on his door, Fury’s orders, but you two can stay with him.”

He beckoned for them to follow him through the corridors of the hospital. "He’s doing very well, all things considered.” He said stopping in front of a door. “But, just so you’re aware, he is heavily sedated to ensure he rests as he was quite agitated. Now, it’s just a case of letting him rest whilst the serum work its magic.”

“Thank you.” Katie choked out before she turned to the door and a hand gently touched her arm. She looked up and did a double take as she saw Evans stood there.

“Hey Nova.”

“Evans.” Her voice was a whisper, as he pulled her into a hug. “You…”

“No, I’m not HYDRA, probably the only one in STRIKE who wasn’t.” He swallowed as she stepped back to look at him noticing the shiny bruise adorning his right cheek and the split in his upper lip. “I swear I had no idea. It all started smelling a bit funky when they told us Cap was public enemy number one, and then when I heard his voice on that PA…” He shook his head, sadly. “I’m sorry I didn’t try to find you, help sooner…”

Katie shook her head as the ginger Texan man wiped at his eyes with the heel of his palm.

“None of us knew Paul.” The use of his first name made him look at her, and she was swept back into his arms again.

“How is he?” He asked as she stepped back, nodding to the room.

“I don’t know yet.”

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to keep ya.” He smiled and she gently squeezed his arm. “I’ll be right her if ya’ll need anything.”

“I don’t want anyone in here without my say so.” She instructed. Evans jerked his head to show he understood and she gave him a tight smile as she pushed the door open and stepped into the room, Sam following.

The sight in front of her made fresh tears spring into her eyes and she swallowed as she silently took in Steve’s condition. He was lying, asleep, in his bed with whilst IV’s and monitors recorded his vitals. He had stitches in several places on his face, nasty bruises around his left eye and jawline, and a huge swelling along the same eye that was likely to prevent him from seeing properly for a while. Overall, he was a mess.

“Katie-”

“I’m fine.” She interrupted Sam quickly in a hoarse voice, slightly tinged with her desire to cry. She took a shaky breath as she could hear Steve’s steady heartbeat reaching her ears. “I just need a minute.”

She slowly made her way to one of the chairs by the bed, settling down without looking away from Steve as she reached up to take one of his hands. It was colder than she could ever remember him being.

“Hey, Soldier.” She breathed in a shaking voice before pressing her lips to his bruised knuckles as she held his large hand in both of hers. For a moment, she thought she felt his hand contract in recognition but when she looked down he showed no signs of being awake. “I don’t know if you can hear me but I’m here, like I promised.”

******

The next few hours Sam and Katie stayed in the room with him and eventually Katie had to concede she really needed to clean up. She looked around for the bag which Nat had brought her some clothes in and stood up, grabbing it from where it sat by the door.

“I’m need the bathroom.” She looked at Sam and he nodded. “I won’t be long.”

She headed down the corridor and entered the ladies restroom, leaning over the sink. She glanced at the mirror, her eyes were red, face was dirty, hands still full of Steve’s blood and she looked all in all like a right mess. She set about washing her hands, her face and anything else that she could before she stepped into a cubicle and peeled off her lycra leggings and compression top. Dressing in the jeans and black sweater that Nat had packed, she was also touched to the point of more tears to see her friend had packed her some deodorant, a set of face wipes, dry shampoo, toothbrush, toothpaste and a hairbrush. By the time Katie had finished she looked almost normal.

Katie pinged Nat a message to thank her and fill her in on the news that Steve was going to be okay and one came back almost immediately

Thank God, and you’re welcome. I just spoke to Tony. He’s on his way back from Australia as we speak, he’d already set off after seeing the news. He told me to tell you to call him, ASAP.

So she did.

“Jesus Kiddo!” Her brother exclaimed when he answered, “I’ve been so worried…how are you? How’s Cap?”

“He’s stable. Still out of it but…” Fresh tears sprung into her eyes at hearing her brother’s voice.

“I’ve had Pepper call the hospital, anything you or he needs…anything…” He stressed, gently “and she’s working to keep the press off your back.”

“Thanks. Where abouts are you?”

“Approaching Singapore airspace. I’ll be there as soon as I can, I promise.”

“’kay…”

“Love you Kiddo, he’s strong. He’ll be fine.”

“So everyone keeps saying.” She whispered, the sob catching in her throat.

Tony sighed “Look, this is Rogers we’re talking about. He’s as stubborn as you are.”

“I know.”

“I’ll see you soon. Call me if there’s any news, ok?”

But there wasn’t. Katie sent Sam home in the early hours of the morning but her vigil never wavered. Doctors and nurses bustled in throughout the night. Steve’s vitals were improving but he still didn’t wake up. She managed a few hours sleep, on and off, spreading herself across two of the chairs, waking at around five am. She gratefully accepted the offer of a coffee from a nurse who arrived to explain that they were about to move Steve into a bigger, nicer room, courtesy of Pepper’s discussions with the hospital.

It was around 10 am when Sam returned. The new guard who had relieved Evans for a shift stopped him immediately until Katie popped her head out of the door and told him it was okay. After he had frisked Sam he walked in, holding out a bag containing a breakfast sandwich.

“You’re an angel.” Katie smiled as she tore into it, unaware how long it was since she had eaten something.

The two of them ate as they watched the news reports on the TV in the corner of the bright room. They spoke of the Helicarriers, HYDRA’s plot having integrated the governmental organization as well as the impending investigation. Katie watched the footage of her and Sam whizzing around the sky, and listened as they had even rebuffed Steve’s message for more effect. The attack was all the world was talking about and all the news was focused on Steve’s recovery and the repercussions of his actions.

“The identity of the Avenger Supernova has until today remained a mystery but the rumours are beginning to amass than it is none other than Katie Stark…” One of the news readers was saying,“the sister of Iron Man and girlfriend of Captain America…”

Katie didn’t even flinch. It wasn’t like they wouldn’t find out anyway, as soon as those files they had dumped on the internet became common knowledge it was going to blow up, plus, it was pretty obvious now. What was annoying her however, was that it was as if they blamed them, in particular Steve, for doing what was right.

A few hours later just as Sam had left again, Katie heard a commotion outside the doors to the room and she stood up.

“You know me right? Tony Stark, my sister is in there.”

“Sir, I’m under instructions not to…”

“It’s okay, Davies.” Katie stepped out of the room and spoke to the guard. “He’s good.”

Davies sighed “Mr Stark, I’m gonna have to search you then.” He relented.

Tony shrugged and held his arms out, once he’d been patted down he shot Davies a contemptuous look and he entered the room. No sooner had he done that, Katie was in his arms, sobbing, the Doctor who had been checking Steve shot them both a look as he sidled out of the room quickly.

“Shhhhh Kiddo.” Tony gently stroked her hair as she pressed her face into his chest, his familiar aftershave and touch reminding her of all the times he’d soothed her before when she was upset.

“I’m so glad you’re here.”

Tony stepped back to look at her. “Red said you got shot.”

“I did, but I’m okay, see.” Katie shifted her top to show him the patch that was over her wound, which was healing well.

“Sounds like you’ve been having a bit of fun without me.” Tony sniffed, “It’s okay, I’m not really hurt. Well, maybe just a little. JARVIS is in a whole heap of trouble for not telling me by the way…”

“I told him not to, you were in Australia, Tones.” Katie shook her head gently “Besides, this was all a bit crazy. There wasn’t really time, if we had waited for you to get back it would have been too late…and you could have been in danger and…” She looked over at Steve, his face was still a mess. “Look at him Tony…”

Her brother placed his arm around her and squeezed. “He’s gonna be fine.”

Katie lay her head on Tony’s shoulder as they sat down, his hand gently stroking over her hair, not once trying to get her to leave as he knew she wouldn’t. She’d burst randomly into tears again when she’d told him her car was now buried in the wreck of the Triskelion. It was a lump of metal, not something that mattered, but Tony understood. She was letting everything out, and he simply sat with her and soothed her, informing her that the car was ready for being changed anyway.

“But I like my car.” She sniffed.

“Kiddo, it’s almost nine years old. I got you that for your Twenty-First.”

“And that’s why I like it.”

Tony had to chuckle, that’s what she was like. Sentimental. It was the gesture behind gifts that mattered to her, not the value. He’d brought her up that way to value money, even though they had it in abundance, and he was fiercely proud of the woman she had grown to be. Humble in many ways that he wasn’t.

“You know he asked me to move in with him.” Katie spoke again, breaking the silence after a minute or so.

“Before marriage?” He teased. “Well, well, well.”

She snorted a laugh “That’s what I said. And then he turned round and told me we could get married if I wanted.”

Tony stiffened slightly before he looked down at her. “And do you want?”

She nodded. “Of course I do. Only I told him to ask me again with a big diamond.” She sniffed again before sobbing. “We both laughed but why did I say that? I don’t need a fucking ring, or-”

“Hey, hey.” Tony gently took her face in both his hands. “You just said it yourself. You both laughed. He won’t have taken it as anything but what it was, a joke. Steve knows you love him. Everyone does. Frankly it’s hard not to, it’s sickening”

She gave a wet laugh and Tony wiped at her cheeks with his thumbs.

“He’s gonna move into mine.” She smiled, as they both settled down again, her head returning to his shoulder. “His place is too small and full of bullet holes and…blood.”

“Sensible” Tony agreed, pulling her closer.

At one point during the night Pepper called, filling Tony in on the fact that Natasha was to be summonsed to the UN for a hearing and that they wanted Katie there too, her secret identity as an Avenger was well and truly busted.

“Get the lawyers onto it.” Tony replied simply, glancing at Katie who was now asleep, across a makeshift bed consisting of four plastic chairs from around the room, head laying on his lap As his hand gently smoothed her hair, his need to protect her boiled fiercely within him. “She’s not going anywhere, certainly not yet. Oh, and I need you to get hold of Happy. I have a couple of jobs for him.”

*****

Every single inch of Steve’s body hurt. His mouth felt like sandpaper, his head was full of cotton wool, his eyes hurt as the colours flashed in front of them. He screwed his eyes further shut against the painful light that still assaulted him through his closed eyelids. He took a moment to breathe, steadying himself as soft music flooded his ears. It wasn’t something he had heard before but it was pleasant, soulful, jazz-like. His head stopped spinning and he felt brave enough to crack an eye open. He glanced round the room, puzzled slightly. He was in a hospital. Then he remembered. The Hellicarriers, Bucky, and the last thing he had seen before blacking out, his girl. He had been cold, and wet, but she had been there. And she still was, at the side of his bed, head laying against Sam’s shoulder.

“On your left.” He managed to croak out. Katie’s head jerked up from its resting place and they both glanced over at the bed where Steve was led. He smiled groggily before his head rolled to the side, flush back against the pillow and he closed his eyes once more.

At the sound of his voice, Katie instantly jumped up and settled on the side of his bed, gently stroking his face.

“Hey.” Her voice cracked. “Welcome back.”

“’M so tired, Sweetheart.” He mumbled as she dropped a kiss to his forehead, his eyes remaining closed as he managed a small smile.

“Then sleep.” She instructed softly, the relief flooding her system that he was with them, albeit not totally, but he was with them. She gently smoothed his hair, and kept that up until she could tell he was back asleep.

She turned to Sam who gave her a smile. “Lazy bastard.”

A few minutes later a nurse popped her head round the door. Katie smiled and told her about him waking up briefly and she nodded, checking the readings. “That’s a good sign.” she beamed, “His body will be drained, serum or no serum so him resting is part of the natural recovery process. When he comes round fully, come find me and we’ll get the doctor back.”

An hour or so later, the mood in Steve’s room was considerably lighter given his waking up before. Katie, Sam and Evans, who was leaning in the open doorway, were mid a playful discussion as to whether or not Voldemort could take Darth Vader in a fight. (Katie had started this whole thing after calling Evans “Ron Weasley with a rifle” on her way back from the bathroom) and were just about to dive into the whole schematics on Magic vs The Force when a voice spoke from the bed.

“What the hell are you three talking about?” Steve grumbled playfully and Katie’s head jerked up to see his eyes watching her and she was beyond happy to see they were full of their usual warmth, the warmth he had whenever he looked at her.

“Hi!” Katie breathed in relief as she stood up and moved closer to him, settling on the edge of his bed.

“Hey, Doll.” He smiled as she took his hand, her fingers snaking into his. His eyes flickered to Evans, taking in the man’s various bruises and he frowned.

“Got in a bit of a fight with Rollins.” Evans drawled with a nod, and Steve let out the breath he hadn’t realised he had been holding. The man wasn’t HYDRA. “He didn’t take kindly to me threatening to test out the whole ‘cut one head off, two more shall take its place’ theory on him.”

Steve gave a small huff of a laugh before he winced slightly at the movement and Evans nodded to him once more, before allowing the door to shut, returning to his post. Steve’s eyes fell on Sam who raised an eyebrow at him.

“You know, having a building dropped on my head wasn’t part of the job description”

Steve’s smile spread a bit further before he gently lifted his head up off the pillow, looking around before grimacing at the throbbing that filled each bone in his body “How long was I out?”

“Forty-Three hours and Thirty Seven minutes if you don’t count the last hour you’ve been resting.” Katie smiled gently, glancing up at the clock on the wall as she settled on the side of the bed. Ah, yes, Steve’s brain vaguely registered he’d woken up before, made some quip of some sorts. “Not that I’ve been counting…” She finished and he smiled again, giving her hand a squeeze.

“Have you been here that whole time?”

“Yeah.” She nodded. “Sam’s been here too, a lot. As has Tony. He’s just nipped back to my place to change and make a few calls.”

“Trust me, two days aint that bad considering how you looked when you got here.” Sam added jokingly.

“Sam.” Katie reprimanded gently, looking at him.

“Alright,” He relented standing from his chair and holding his hands up, with a smirk. “I’ll go get that hot nurse, give you guys a minute.”

“Utter dog.” She snorted, the pair of them watching as he left the room and she turned to face Steve, tears in her eyes.

“You scared me.”

“Sorry.” He looked at her, and he was. He hated seeing her upset. There was a moment’s pause before he decided he had to know. “What happened after… did we?”

“SHIELD’s gone, Alexander Pierce is dead. Fury shot him. And as far as HYDRA, everyone major that was involved at the Treskellion is either captured or dead.” she paused, not sure if she should be telling him the full scale of what had gone down. Not whilst he was still recovering.

“What is it?” he frowned and she knew she wouldn’t be able to fob him off.

“Nat dumping the files on the internet means my identity as Nova is probably blown wide open. There goes our quiet life.”

“Nothing about our life is quiet.” he said a soft chuckle rising in his chest.

She grinned “True. Gonna be a lot of other shit to mop up though, The Treskellion was the tip of the iceberg. All the main SHIELD bases fell. America, Canada, Europe.”

Steve nodded along then asked the question he was almost afraid to hear the answer to. “Any news on Bucky?

"He’s gone.” Katie told him sadly. “I’m sorry Steve. I know how much he meant to you. But, I think he remembered you. He pulled you out of the river, told me to get help.” She continued to explain about their short exchange on the river bank and Steve listened, unable to stop the hopeful feeling spreading in his chest. Maybe there was a chance for Bucky after all, they just needed to find him. Katie watched him, and he smiled at her.

“I’m glad you spoke to him.” He nodded, and then a cheeky glint flashed in his eyes “Still think all the girls in Brooklyn were dumbasses for hanging off his arm and not mine?”

She gave a bark of a laugh and leaned down towards his face, rubbing her nose against his “Always.” She whispered, before giving him a soft quick peck on the lips.

******

Tony arrived back an hour or so later. He was genuinely pleased to see Steve awake and after gently grasping the soldier’s hand between both of his in a friendly, brotherly, gesture he sat down and delivered some interesting news.

“So the Goth Pirate called me.” He said, leaning back in his seat “He sounded amazingly well for a dead guy.”

“Fury called you?” Steve frowned

“Yeah. He’s laying low, you know, on account of being dead, and he wants to hand control of the Avengers over to us, Cap.”

Steve frowned, before he lay his head back on his pillow. He knew the Avengers would be needed again, especially now with SHIELD gone. He turned to Tony who continued.

“I think that’s the right thing to do, for us to take control” The billionaire spoke and Steve nodded.

“I suppose, but there’s something I gotta do first.”

“Yeah, recover.” Sam shot, drawing a faint smile from Steve but Katie knew full well he didn’t mean that. He was intending to go after Bucky.

They spent the rest of the afternoon making idle chit chat with Tony, who was already planning on further renovating the tower to house the Avengers full time in the wake of Fury’s news. Steve, Katie was pleased to see, was enthusiastic about the plans and listened, looking at the various ideas Tony showed him on the tablet. However, now that Steve was awake, the nurses seemed to be a little more reluctant to allow everyone to stay and at about six pm one of them politely suggested that Sam and Tony should be making their way home.

“You do know I’m paying for this, right?” Tony quipped at her. She shot him a look which made him visibly recoil and he turned to Katie pulling a face as he stood up.

“I’ve gotta get back to New York anyway.” He shrugged, pulling his sister into a hug. “Lawyers to speak to…new suits to build seeing as you blew yours up.”

“You blew it up?” Steve looked at her.

“I needed to send up a signal so everyone could find us.” She shrugged as Tony looked at her reproachfully.

“Yeah, I should be going too. I gotta tidy my place.” Sam groaned. “Someone trashed it.”

“You’re welcome to stay at mine if you want, for as long as you need.” Katie offered, as Steve let out a sigh and began to mumble an apology which Sam waved away.

“It’s fine man, it won’t take me long to reorganise it all.”

“Speaking of which…” Tony looked at Steve then Katie as he fished in his pockets for something. “I’ve had Happy organise to clear your apartment Cap, now you two are shacking up together. He’s gonna have all your stuff sent Kiddo’s, save you a job. Oh and I figured you might need this.” He tossed Katie a set of keys. She glanced down at them, her eyebrow raised.

“It’s a Q5, rought over from my personal collection.” He looked at her and she smiled at her brother. “Try not to bury this one under a sky-scraper.”

“Thank you.” She whispered, giving him another hug, slipping the keys into her pocket. “I love you, Tone.”

“Obviously, because I’m the best big brother in the world.” He hugged her tight, and Steve nodded to him, thanking him with a look which Tony acknowledged with a sharp incline of his head in the soldier’s direction.

As the two men left, Steve raised his right arm to bid them goodbye and the pair of them headed off down the corridor, chatting away animatedly. Katie watched them go before turning to Steve, who was yawning like a lion.

“You okay?”

“I just don’t remember the last time I was this tired…or in as much pain”

"Do you want me to get the Nurse, up your pain relief?”

“No.” He yawned again, he hated how it made the room spin.“Think I’m gonna sleep.”

She teased gently. “Again?”

He smiled and looked at her, swallowing. “Will…will you stay?” He asked, tentatively “Until I fall asleep, that is?”

“I’m not leaving you.” She cut him off and dropped a kiss to his forehead as she climbed onto the bed next to him “I’ll be here when you go to sleep, and here when you wake up.”

“You don’t need to stay all night. You must be exhausted, you should go home and get some sleep.”

“I’m fine…” She looked at him, before her body betrayed her and she too let out a huge yawn which she tried to stifle. He raised an eyebrow.

“Please honey, you need some rest too.”

“I’m not going anywhere.”

Steve shook his head. She really was obtuse at times.

“What?”

“Nothing.” He lay his head back on the pillow a grin flashing across his face. “Just remembering what a stubborn, pain in the-“

“If you wanna get out of here any time soon, then I wouldn’t finish that sentence…”

“Miss Stark is that a threat?” Steve looked at her, a smile curling further across his face

“It’s a promise…” She grinned, leaning over to kiss him gently. “Now go to sleep.”

*******

Steve was discharged from the hospital the next afternoon, the doctors having no reason to keep him any longer since he healed so quickly, though a cheeky nurse did warn that it wouldn’t be wise for him to engage in any strenuous activity, with a pointed look in Katie’s direction who merely rolled her eyes, a small smirk playing on her face.

They arrived back to Katie’s, no theirs, a little after 4 in the afternoon. Steve was dying for a hot shower, and a shave, despite Katie’s protests that she liked the stubble he had sprouted, and whilst he was under the scalding hot waterfall, Katie headed into the kitchen to grab a drink. As she opened the fridge for a bottle of water she wasn’t surprised it was fully stocked including a few bottles of expensive pinot grigio and some beer. There was a note stuck to one of the bottles, in Tony’s handwriting.

Couldn’t have you both coming home to an empty fridge now, could I?

Whatever it is he’s ‘got to do’, I know you’ll follow. So keep safe, stay in touch, and if you need help…you know where to find a good team.

T xxx

She read the note over again and smiled to herself. It was times like this that her brother always came through for her. She fired him a quick text message to thank him before she headed up to the bedroom to see if Steve was hungry.

“Hey love, just wanted to know…” the words died in her mouth at the sight of him, his upper body was flecked with droplets of water from the shower. The knife wound on his shoulder had faded to nothing but a fresh, pink scar and the bruises he sported were all starting to turn yellow now apart from one stubborn one on the right side of his ribcage that was still a mass of purple. But it was the round circle of scar tissue that stood out, on the left side of his lower abdomen, angry and red, where the bullet that had done the most damage had exited that caught her attention. Her mouth went dry and suddenly her eyes were misting over as it hit her exactly how close she had come to losing him. Quite simply, she wasn’t sure she could cope without him now, which scared her as she’d always been fiercely independent.

“Hey…” he said, swiftly stepping forward, his hands cupping her face as he saw her face crumple “Sweetheart, I’m fine…”

“I know, I know but…” she sniffed. “I almost lost you and I couldn’t bear it if that happened…”

“Well you didn’t.” He said, gently, “Gonna take more than that to get rid of me.”

His lips brushed hers, the lightest of touches but it set every single nerve end she had into over drive with desire. As her breath hitched she felt him grin against her mouth before he kissed her, slightly harder this time, parting her lips with his tongue. He pulled her close, moving his hands up to the small of her back, pressing her into him. She wrapped her arms around his neck, running the fingers of one hand through his hair while the others lingered at the base of his skull, holding him to her. They stayed like that for what felt like forever, the kiss growing in intensity, hunger, until Katie felt him hard against her stomach and her face was raw from the stubble that he hadn’t shaved yet.

“The doctor said you had to take it easy…” she whispered into the space between them as they each worked to steady our breathing

“Yeah…” he said, slowly moving her backwards, “But, what do they know?”

“Ermm a lot.” she snorted.

“You need proof that I’m all healed?”

“Depends on what proof you’re talking about…” she grinned as he dropped his hands to her ass, reaching down as if to lift her but she stopped him, hands on his wrists.

“Steve, your ribs…”

“For once in your life will you shut up and just do as you’re told…” He looked down at her. She was about to argue, about to tell him no, but as he looked at her, his eyes alive with desire she knew it was pointless.

“Yes, Captain…” she murmured as his lips crashed onto hers, but he didn’t try and lift her again, instead he backed her up the short few strides, before the back of her knees hit the side of the bed and she dropped back onto it.

“I’ll take it easy…” He whispered as he crawled over the top of her, sliding his hand up her jersey dress and into the waistband of her leggings and knickers, slowly sinking two fingers into her warm, wet depth. She let out a soft moan, open mouth grazing his neck as he felt her clench around him. “Easy,” he repeated before her mouth hungrily claimed his again. He moved his hands to reach down and they parted just long enough so he could pull her dress up over her head. His eyes automatically darted to the bullet wound on her left shoulder, that hadn’t healed half as fast as his, the stitches weren’t due out for another week

“I hate that you got hurt…” he muttered, slipping one bra strap down, then the other, before she arched her back allowing him to reach round and undo the clasp before he discarded it to the floor. His lips travelled across her collar bone and up her neck, drawing a soft groan from her lips as his stubble scraped her skin and once more his fingers claimed her. She writhed with pleasure at his strokes and he groaned gently, his lips working on the spot under her ear. He moved away for a second, to rid himself of the towel and crawled over her so that she was led flat, his hands pulling at the side of her black leggings, removing them along with her panties easily. He positioned himself over her, his tongue dipping into her mouth before he pushed into her, making her shudder slightly. His hands were on either side of her face, caressing her cheek and jaw as he kissed her again, rocking his hips as opposed to thrusting, the contact not breaking for a second. He dropped his head to her neck, his lips gently brushing her ear as he let out a groan, his hips grinding against hers.

It was soft, it was gentle, it was intimate, not rushed and Katie cried out his name loudly when her orgasm took her, her thighs closing around him. He was consumed completely by her, and he followed her over the edge, a loud moan rumbling in his throat. God he loved this woman with every single inch of his body.

“One day,” he mumbled, his lips brushing her ear, “I’m going to ask you properly.”

She understood what he meant. Smiling she looked at him, not a shred of hesitation on her face as her lips met his and she whispered into the kiss, “One day, I’m going to say yes.”

He couldn’t help the huge grin that spread across his face as he kissed her again, noses sliding carefully against one another to avoid aggravating any bruises before he rolled over pulling her to him, her words reverberating around his head.

I’m going to say yes.

His hand gently carded through her hair as he felt her relax into him and he dropped a kiss to the top of her head.

I’m going to say yes.

*****

The flashes of the photographers and the hustle and bustle of the audience were invasive. 4 days had passed since they had taken down SHIELD/Hydra and despite the best attempts of the lawyers that Tony had instructed on both hers and Natasha’s behalf, they had been summonsed to Capitol Hill.

What pissed Katie off the most wasn’t the attention, it was the fact they were being held accountable when they had done the right thing. Natasha felt the same, but the pair of them remained professional and unaffected by the staging of the conference before them. They both moved to the fingerprint reader before returning to their appointed places to answer their questions. Nat’s hair was as usual smoothed and perfectly capped on her shoulders, Katie’s was twisted back in a bun. Katie’s face still bore the bruises she had gotten from Rumlow, which were turning and fading and she probably could have covered them better but she’d chosen not to, simply to make a point.

“Miss Stark, you know Captain Rogers the best out of anyone in this room. Why do you believe he felt the need to take down our intelligence service?”

Katie wanted to laugh; it was such a stupid question to open with. But the serious look on his face told her he was serious.

"Taking down SHIELD was the morally right thing to do. If we hadn’t stopped that launch over twenty million people would be dead.” she said seriously. The congressman eyed her before jotting down something on his notepad.

The questioning continued from there. Not many people in the room were sympathetic to all that they had been through. In fact, Katie would go as far as to suggest that most were trying to find a weak spot or a way for them to trip them up. An hour in and it felt like they were going round in circles. Katie was getting pissed off. Besides her Nat shifted slightly, crossing her arms over her chest, the two women resisting the urge to look at one another.

“Why is there no news from Captain Rogers?” asked one of the men of the congress.

That was when Katie lost it. She turned to the front taking a deep breath as she looked up at the ceiling with annoyance, the eye roll she had been fighting came fully as she glanced back at the moron who had been speaking “I don’t know what else to say.” she spoke, her tone laced with sarcasm. “Maybe the fact he almost died might have something to do with it. That said, I think the new rock in the middle of the Potomac speaks for him in this case.”

"Perhaps he can explain to us how he hopes this country will ensure its national security because you have dismantled our intelligence services.” The Congressman insisted reproachfully.

This time it was Natasha that spoke, her attitude ringing across the room, she was pissed as well.

“What information?” She asked angrily. “HYDRA sold you lies.”

“Lies that you took care to spread.” The Congressman reminded, pointing at her with a knowing look. Natasha narrowed her lips to his allusion but it was Katie that answered, the final threads of her self-control finally snapping.

“Ste- Captain Rogers, sacrificed everything to save the lives of millions of people when he took that airship down into the ice over 70 years ago.” she leant forward “Not to mention the fact that my dad, Howard Stark, the co-founder of SHIELD also worked against Hydra in the war.” she took a breath and looked at Natasha “Agent Romanoff was almost killed by Hydra’s most deadly assassin on a mission 5 years ago. And more to the fact, 2 years ago we fought, side by side as part of the Avengers to keep the world and its people safe. And you’re seriously suggesting now that we would knowingly put those same people in danger?”

“Passionate speech Miss Stark, or should we call you Nova…” he said, making her snort and look away “And perhaps you’re right, maybe you didn’t know…but Agent Romanoff…” he turned to Natasha “It happens that a few in the commission have the feeling that, given your state of service for our country and against it, your place is more in a penitentiary than in a senatorial commission.”

Katie looked at Nat who took a deep breath, clearly collecting her thoughts before answering with confidence. "You’re not gonna put me in jail.” She paused for the dramatic effect before letting a small smirk curl the corner of her pink lips as she glanced at a Katie before looking at the front again “You’re not gonna put any of us in jail.” She arched a mocking eyebrow as she kept eye contact with the congressman. “You know why?”

“Please enlighten us.” He replied snidely.

“Because you need us.” Katie answered for her. “With SHIELD gone, the world needs the Avengers more than ever.”

Natasha smiled gently and continued “Miss Stark is right. Yes, the world is vulnerable. And we’re partly responsible, but we’re also the most qualified to defend it. So you want to throw us in prison? Go ahead” she shrugged “You know where to find us.”

With that she gently touched Katie’s shoulder and she rose gracefully from her seat, Katie following her. The pair of them turned to face the hordes of press, all of them were shoving microphones and cameras into their faces whilst they moved to the doors and pushed their way through the throng of people.

“Move aside please…” Happy was in his element, arm round Katie as he cleared a path to the SUV, where he opened the door to allow them to slide in. He pulled away from the kerb and sped off.

“We’ll head to Miss Romanoff’s first, then I’ll drop you home Kiddo.”

“Happy, what would I do without you?” Katie smiled at him. She turned to Nat who was looking out of the window.

“You ok?”

She shrugged “Could be worse.”

“So, what’s next for you?” she asked.

“Gonna take a bit of time out.” she said vaguely, shrugging “You?”

“Steve wants to track Bucky down.” Katie sighed “Although I’m not so sure it’s a good idea.”

She didn’t reply. They rode in silence until they reached her condo and Katie turned to her.

“Nat.”

She looked at Katie, her green eyes locking onto her friend’s.

“Don’t be a stranger. Come over this week, we can get takeout and make fun out of Steve, just like normal.”

She smiled and reached across the seats, giving her a hug. “I’d like that.”

****

The days following the hearing were peaceful as Steve and Katie mostly lounged at home, unpacking some of his things that Happy had sent over. They binge watched shows, cooked, went for walks and then one night Sam and Natasha dropped in for take-out and a few beers. Sam made sure he congratulated Katie and Natasha on them both basically telling the Government to kiss their asses.

“It was the best thing I’ve seen on TV in years!” he gleefully said, as Steve dropped a kiss to the side of Katie’s head. In contrast, Steve had hated seeing both her and Nat getting grilled. He’d offered to go himself but both girls had insisted they could handle it, and he should keep his head down for the foreseeable. It was the one thing that Katie knew she could do to protect him.

It was as Natasha was leaving that Steve pulled her to one side and asked her if she could get any of her old contacts to dig up any information on Bucky. Katie pretended she wasn’t listening to the conversation, but she heard every word as Natasha tried to warn him that it wasn’t a good idea, but, stubborn as ever, Steve insisted so she nodded, and promised to do what she could.

And now, almost two weeks later, they were stood in a graveyard. Katie supposed there were stranger places to meet up with your dead-not-dead ex-boss…

“Funny, most people need a Medium or a Ouija board to speak to dead people.” Sam quipped as Fury approached them.

“I see dead people…” Katie replied in an almost perfect impression of the Kid from The Sixth Sense, causing Sam to snort and Steve to chastise the pair of them for acting like a pair of school children in a graveyard.

“Sorry Dad.” Katie rolled her eyes and he shot her a disapproving look which she met with an equally sassy one of her own, and Steve looked away before he laughed at her.

"So, you’ve experienced this sort of thing before?” Fury asked, drawing up behind the three.

“You get used to it,” said Steve, looking down at the grave stone with Fury’s name on it, placed over an empty, buried coffin.

Katie slipped her hand into his, gently squeezing it.

“We’ve been data mining Hydra’s files. Looks like a lot of rats didn’t go down with the ship,” said Fury, He was standing by Katie’s side, staring down at his own tombstone, with sunglasses on and a hoodie over his head and he looked up at Steve “I’m headed to Europe tonight. Wanted to ask if you’d come.”

“There’s something I gotta do first,” Steve responded, simply.

“I assume you gotta do it too?” Fury looked at Katie. She shrugged.

“How about you, Wilson? Could use a man with your ability,” said Fury, turning his gaze to Sam.

“I’m more of a soldier than a spy,” responded Sam.

“Alright then,” Fury shrugged, shaking Sam’s hand before going over to shake Steve’s. “If anybody asks for me, tell them they can find me right here.” He said shaking Katie’s hand last as he nodded to the grave.

“You should be honoured.” Natasha’s voice drifted across from behind the three of them, making them turn around to see her walking up to them while Fury himself was already strolling away in the opposite direction. “That’s about as close as he gets to saying ‘thank you’.”

“Not going with him?” Katie asked.

“No,” she sang coming to a stop, keeping her hands behind her back.

“Not staying here,” Steve concluded.

“Nah…” she drew out the reply. “I blew all my covers, I gotta go figure out a new one.”

“That could take some time,” Katie raised an eyebrow.

“I’m counting on it.” She smirked, turning to Steve. “That thing you asked for; called in a few favours from Kiev.”

As she removed her hands from behind her back, she revealed a brown folder, which Steve took staring down at it with a contemplative expression.

“Be careful Steve,” she added, repeating her warning and he looked at her, nodding. “You may not want to pull on that thread.”

“Take care of yourself.” Katie said, looking at her, before giving her a quick hug. “I think I’m going to miss you, just a little bit."

"Only a little?” Natasha teased right back. “I’ll miss you too.”

She turned to leave and Katie gently reached over to tilt the file down so she could see it, wincing at the photo of Bucky in some kind of cryo-stasis. Steve looked at her, his eyes giving away his sadness and she gently ran her hand up his arm.

“I’m not sure I want you involved in this.” he looked down at her and she rolled her eyes.

“We live together you ass.” She looked at him, sternly “And we’re in this now, the both of us. I’m not going anywhere.”

She felt like she had been saying that a lot recently, and she had. But she wanted him to understand, nothing that happened could and would ever tear them apart.

As Sam approached Steve closed the folder, but the man had already seen it. He shot a look up to the sky, his eyes locking on Katie’s and she gave him a quick look which was almost sympathetic as she registered Sam’s frustration. It didn’t go unnoticed by Steve either, he knew this could be opening a whole can of worms, or a ‘bucket of vipers’ as Katie had said the other night, but he had to try. He owed it to Bucky.

“You’re going after him aren’t you?” Sam asked.

“You don’t have to come with us.” Steve responded

“I know.” Sam remarked, before a smirk crossed his face. “When do we start?”

**** Chapter 18

**Original Posting**

#stark spangled banner #steve rogers #Katie Stark #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers x ofc #steve rogers x original female character #mcu fanfic #mcu #captain america #chris evans #chris evans characters

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teruthecreator · 4 years

Note

poorly summarize everything that’s happened in grad so far for me, the clown who has only listened to 2 episodes (totally for goofs please don’t stress kbdjdjssk)

nah nah nah okay dont even sweat it i GOT YOU. okay so, the basics:

we got three whores to focus on. ignore all other npcs only two of them are mentioned regularly. the whores being:

sniveling little bitch who’s imposter syndrome is almost as fat as his ass

pirates of the caribbean in scotland

mossy rock w funny accent

now you think the main setting would be the school theyre at, right? wrong. this is also barely mentioned, save for the scattered Actual Class Scenes

currently (as of ep 16) they’re on spring semester freshman year. yknow, the semester of college where u suddenly decide to change ur major and start trying to join a sorority.

now we got that all covered, we talk Plot (as much plot as i remember):

think of Sky High. remember the dynamics there? that’s here too. in the beginning eps, all three whores are lame little lackeys just getting through gen eds. imposter syndrome bitch also got a superiority complex over his gifted-kid-related trauma about this

(once again, important to note the classes have No Meaning to the plot.)

pirates of the caribbean also learns from Mysterious Bird Man that his mother belonged to The Masons: But Make It Fantasy.

sentient mossy rock also sometimes does things without knowing why. is he dissociating?? no. you’ll find out why in a second.

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

FIRST MISSION: they issue a subpoena to a rock monster. mossy rock man pick up cool crystal. the whores learn there are some lil holy-holes torn into spacetime that weren’t there before! neat!

OH YEAH ALSO IMPORTANT. IMPOSTER SYNDROME GETS A SON HIS NAME IS SNIPPERS HE IS ACTUALLY THE MOST IMPORTANT CHARACTER IN THE SHOW CONVINCE ME OTHERWISE

anyway, scottish jack sparrow joins the masons and is assigned his first solid snake mission: find out all the hot goss on imposter syndrome.

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

THEN ITS WINTER BREAK. they fight some imps. travis was way too proud of this bit. imposter syndrome and scot sparrow are a little homoerotic.

and also a random npc is written out of the story which makes imposter syndrome paranoid.

somewhere around winter break imposter syndrome gets promoted to Disney Villain by the Main Headmaster. this will be important Kind Of.

imposter syndrome and sentient moss have a convo and decide they cant trust Disney’s Pirates Of the Caribbean Ride In Scotland bc he sneaks out too much to get schwasty w the masons.

mossman admits he doesn’t know what he’s doing sometimes (me too buddy) and imposter syndrome clocks his vibe and finds out he’s been brainwashed! swag

because of the removed npc, the government sends Random Woman With A Nice Name to watch over class proceedings. remember when sometimes the principal would sit in on classes for teacher’s performance reviews?? like that but more Law & Order.

moss admits to nice woman that he’s afraid bc his brain got yoinked. she gives him a listening device to help. this literally becomes useless within the next episode.

imposter syndrome talks abt his paranoia w nice woman bc he thinks he’s gonna die. pirate boy talks abt his insecurity complex bc he thinks the hot himbo he lives w doesnt like him.

these conversations happen in succession.

also pirates of the caribbean finds out imposter syndrome is....an imposter! sends a nicely written, lightly homoerotic letter home to his imposter’s mom to get the facts.

those facts being he’s actually a country bumpkin himbo.

mossy cobblestone gets mindwiped to run to the Other Headmaster, and imposter and pirate follow. they learn that green top actually gave the headmaster permission to wipe his mind clean bc he has a rlly low deception roll, and also the real Main Headmaster is a dog bc travis runs this game. which makes Main Headmaster That Promoted Imposter Syndrome...An Imposter!!!

Other Headmaster explains in order to un-dog this man (and un-bird the npc who got removed from the plot but is suddenly back) he needs the apple from Snow White. currently two herds of centaurs are fighting over it, so they gotta Nab It.

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

SECOND MISSION. i can summarize this real quick:

they talk to the horsepeople and find out the leaders are stubborn exes

they talk to a forest god who basically gives them the Wonderland Treatment

they talk to a shitty wizard

said shitty wizard curses imposter syndrome

Pirates of the Caribbean 4: The Scotland Story is homoerotic at imposter syndrome’s comatosed body while Minecraft Steve finds out the apple was a lie (haha get it portal joke hahaha--)

imposter syndrome finds out his magic was given to him by Sexy Deity Person Who My Girlfriend Really Likes Talking About

a single dirt block learns shitty wizard basically framed them for stealing and trying to incite a war between the herds

imposter syndrome wakes up next to pirate man and its gay, but then theyre both arrested for treason

Imposter Syndrome Rips A Man’s Hand Off

they get the apple

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

THE END :) <3

#taz graduation #taz fitzroy #taz argo #taz firbolg #taz grad spoilers #(sort of)#ignorance cloud on #this actually took time and is probably incoherent but u said u wanted a shitty explanation so #thanks josh!!

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curly-bangtan · 4 years

Text

Heatwave Drabble #6: lovesick

(sorry i had to insert these gifs. if this isn’t the taehyung you’re imagining for heatwave, you’re unfortunately wrong.)

[Heatwave // Godless // Heatwave Drabbles] <- read first! :)

Pairing: Taehyung x reader

Summary: You fall feverishly ill one morning, and the responsibility of looking after you falls onto Taehyung’s lap. Of course, there wouldn’t be a problem with that at all if the both of you weren’t so confused about your feelings for each other.

Genre: drabble, fluff, crack, little angst, fwb au, roommate au, f2l

Warnings: tsundere!y/n being bratty as usual, boyfriend but not ur boyfriend!taehyung who all our hearts belong to, “I love you so much” (I feel like that should be a warning lol), maybe confession who knows

Word count: 6.5k

A/N: It’s been over a month holy shit. But VOILA! Enjoy the calm before the storm and try not to bust a lung from all these feelings running wild. (requested by my bb @taexxxiiaa.)

Taehyung should have known something was wrong with you when you didn’t protests against him slipping into your room last night and crawling beneath your covers.

Usually, you would at least act like you don’t want him there, complain about his invasion with that trademark eye roll of yours, before snuggling back to his warmth, ass conveniently wiggling onto his poorly-hidden boner. His hands would quickly find your hips, one of them creeping under your shirt to cup your breast, lips latched onto the cradle of your neck. And before either of you knew it, he would be inches deep inside you, both still dressed because impatience and neediness gave way, and shedding of clothing isn’t necessary during copulation anyway.

But last night, all you did was hum a pleasant sigh at his arrival, eyes not even opening as you pull his arm tighter around your waist. Taehyung fell asleep beside you within minutes.

You have been feeling slightly under the weather lately, sniffly nose and funky throat. Most do in the harsh winds of January where winter has still yet to defrost into the floral bloom of spring. But when Taehyung had so much as mentioned the possibility of you maybe having a wee bit of a cold, you had been passionately adamant that you - you - are not one of those commonfolk who catches colds from a slight breeze.

“Do I look like a peasant to you?” You had scoffed in utter dismay at his proposition. The audacity! “I don’t get sick this easily, certainly not before you do. My immune system is superior and that’s a fact.”

However, you are soon to be haunted by your own words because what is a fact is that you are currently shivering in bed beside Taehyung despite your immense radiation of heat, skin scalding to touch, groggy even after ample hours of sleep.

Taehyung is a lazy riser, but your state has spurred his eyes to fly open, springing upright and instantly wide awake. The sheets around you are absolutely drenched in your sweat. As you’re still in the foetal position you had fallen asleep in, he carefully turns you on your back, you hardly rousing from such commotion that would usually wake you up. You would look rather peaceful in your slumber if it weren’t for the perspiration coated all over, damp hair matted to your face, and brows occasionally drawing almost as if in pain. When he places his palm against your forehead, he curses. “Fucking shit.”

You have a fever. That’s just grand, isn’t it? You should have listened when he told you to wear more layers but no, apparently fashion matters so much more than your own health. Superior immune system his ass.

“Hey…” Taehyung nudges your shoulders gently. No response, still shivering in your sleep. “Y/N, wake up.” He prods a little harder this time but, again, to no avail. This isn’t looking good. You’re not even stirring, and he knows you’re much lighter sleeper than he is. Taking your face in his hand, he shakes your face side to side, your heat almost burning his fingers. “Baby, please…”

Nothing.

Cue the panic unleashing in his head.

You have a fucking fever, and you’re unconscious, and you’re shivering like you’re hypothermic, and your forehead feels like a fucking kettle. What the hell is Taehyung supposed to do? He doesn’t know. Of course he doesn’t fucking know. You’ve always been the one to look after him. What does he do now? Should he call the police? Wait no, the ambulance. Yes! The ambulance! This is a medical emergency for sure, it has to be!

He reaches for his phone on the bedside table.

But wait.

As his thumbs hover over his screen, he realises that he doesn’t know the number for the ambulance. Is it just the same number as the police? Holy fuck, what does he do? Why is he so incompetent, what the fuck?

“Taehug…” At the sound of your voice, soft and nasal from your blocked nose, he spins around to you, heart leaping out his chest in relief. With one eye barely open, you’ve lifted your head as much as you can, clammy hand reaching for his jumper to tug him to you.

“Oh my god, are you okay? What the fuck, you scared the shit out of me.” Wasting not a second, he dives back to your side, fingers interlocking yours in a motion that’s like second nature to him. Jeez, you’re sweaty. “How are you feeling?”

The pale absence of tint in your lips speaks for itself. Your eyes are still not fully open, or more like they can’t be. You regard Taehyung with a slightly confused expression. “Burning. My head is killing me.” It’s barely even a whisper. Taehyung’s heart aches. It aches more knowing just how much pain you must be in to forget your pride and admit your vulnerability out loud. You never do that. Not even that time you fell over on the ice-skating rink and broke your wrist, yet insisted it had hurt no more than a bruise, even though Taehyung had seen how much you were wincing when you thought he wasn’t looking.

“Ah, okay, fuck. I don’t know what to do, Y/N. What do you need? Water? Ice packs? Ibuprofen? Are you hungry? Do you want some cereal?” Taehyung is duly aware of how much he currently resembles a concerned mother fussing over her sick child, but he doesn’t care. He’ll be mother hen if he has to.

“Shh… Too loud, Taehub…” Laboriously lifting your arm as if it weighs two tonnes, you silence him with a finger to his mouth. And he shuts up immediately. He shouldn’t, given the circumstances, but he savours your touch as your finger slides down his bottom lip when your arm drops. “Water, please.”

And like that, Taehyung is sprinting to the kitchen for a cool glass of water for you, ignoring the cold that slaps at his bare feet. He has never looked after a sick person before, this is all very nerve-wracking and stressful for him. He is so fast that he arrives back to you with only half the contents of the glass still contained, the rest spilled during his hurried journey.

Taehyung finds you sat up, looking a little more awake than half a minute ago but no more alive. Your hair is tangled the way it always is in the morning, and your face is puffy the way fluffy pancakes rise - the same way that makes Taehyung want to kiss you all over and tell you how much he likes pancakes and he likes you. But god bless, you’re just sat there, spaced out, staring off at the sloth drawings of your bed sheets, you poor thing.

Something clenches in Taehyung from how you kind of light up when you notice his approach, eyes twinkling and corners of your mouth turning up ever so subtly.

“Here.” He breathes, now especially weary of his volume so not to disrupt you. You jump at the cold that’s pressed on your lips, and take the glass from him as he perches by the bed next to you. Not that there was much to begin with, but you down the water like you do with vodka shots during happy hour. “Better?”

With a great sigh, you shut your eyes and shake your head. “No. I feel like we’re in a furnace, and someone is hammering my head.” There is something very gentle about your voice that Taehyung does not recognise at all. It’s soft, shy even, the completely opposite from the way you normally speak. And from the babyish way your lips are jutted out…

Taehyung doesn’t for a second doubt that the fever is frying your brain. Because your mannerism would never be this mild and soft-spoken in your right mind. You haven’t even sworn once despite the condition you’re in; that’s how he knows with absolute certainty that you’re not yourself.

Just as he is about to suggest taking you to the doctor, you pinch the material of your top and begin peeling it off. It rides up your damp skin to reveal your glistening waist. Higher. Over your ribcage. Higher. The underside swells of your breasts peeking through.

All sensible thought vacates him.

Nowadays, not much can fluster Taehyung anymore, so the attack of heat rushing to his face feels rather foreign, strangely tickling his chest. The female body is a frequent sight for him, especially yours, so this really shouldn’t faze him at all. It’s perhaps the context of this situation, how you are hardly conscious, completely vulnerable and beside yourself.

“Stop.” He catches the material of your rising shirt in your hand. You look at him with a cocked head when you notice his prevention, cheeks red from the fever, confusion worn so genuinely that he chokes. “Fuck- Don’t look at me like that while taking your shirt off. Stop taking your shirt off, even.”

“Look at you like what?” Your voice is soft, its usual cockiness absent. Just pure innocence. It shouldn’t suit you given your typical boisterous character, but it strangely does.

“Lookingatmelikesomeinnocentfuckingkittengoddammit.” He mutters under his breath, staring at the wall to avoid that heart-ruining expression of yours as he tugs your top back down. It takes everything in him not to dwell on those perversions. God, what is wrong with him? This is so completely inappropriate.

“But it’s hot…”

At a moment of weakness, Taehyung takes a glimpse at your face and, lo and behold, immediately gets shot in the heart by your beseeching pout. Not to mention the way you’re whining…

Fuck. Taehyung is going to fucking melt.

“Okay, but don’t take off your shirt just like that. Warn me next time.” He grips onto your shirt as tightly as it takes to ground himself, fist rested on your hip. You’re his friend right now. Nothing more. Stop being a sopping melt.

“Okay, sorry. But can I at least change into new jammies? These are too stuffy.” Disgruntled, you plead, eyes wishfully wide.

Jammies? Jammies? Are you kidding him? Taehyung is this close to banging his head against the wall. Who is this person sitting in front of him right now? Because he has never, never, in his two and a half+ years of knowing you, witnessed you like this. Literally who are you?

“Um, er, okay, so- How about, I’ll let you change into some lighter clothes, then we’ll get you to the doctor. How does that sound?” He tucks your hair neatly behind your ears and pluck on your lobe endearingly.

“What? No, please, no!” You throw your hands up and groan, narrowly missing whacking him on the chin. Now, you’re infamous for your stubbornness against medical care, steadfast to your belief that one’s body is sufficient in recovering itself in most cases. No pain killers, no cough drops, no flu medicine. Taehyung theorises that you like to suffer, gives you a good boost of self esteem knowing that you can endure the pain. He knows what you’re like with your pride and ego.

But now is not the time. “Why not? You’re burning up. Don’t be so headstrong.”

“I don’t want to move.” Sniff.

“I’ll carry you.” That makes you pause.

“Taehyung, no! I don’t wanna go.” Tantrum on the brink of bubbling, as you bang your fists against the mattress and cross your arms, frowning in displeasure at him. Ah, there’s the Y/N he knows. “And you better keep your distance too, or else you’ll catch whatever I have.” Sniff.

“I’ll keep my distance if you let me take you to the doctor.” Two can play this game. Taehyung’s stubbornness isn’t to shabby himself. And though in your past arguments, he has usually always been the one to be lenient and back down, he won’t budge this time.

“Stop being fussy, or I won’t drink any water or take any medicine and-”

“Stop being a brat, or I’ll kiss you right now.”

You shut up right away. It’s hard to suppress the smirk of triumph that overcomes Taehyung. “W-What?” You stammer, visibly shying away from you.

“Did I stutter?” He dares to provoke, before swiftly leaning his face into yours.

“Dude!” Even in your sickly state, your reflexes are quick, hand immediately catching over his mouth before he could kiss you. His face stops, inches away from yours, the only barrier between you being your hand. In such proximity, he can feel the heat melting off you, radiating into his bones. Your eyes, wide and panicked. “Are you crazy? You’re going to get ill too.” Taehyung swears the heavy tint in your cheeks is only partially due to the fever. He smiles against your warm palm, making sure to pucker his lips for emphasis of his intention. You are so fun to fluster.

“Then go to the doctor.” His voice his muffled by your hand.

“You’re so stubborn, god!” Oh, the hypocrisy. “Look. The doctor can’t do anything except give me some medicine to decrease my temperature. But fever is good for the body anyway. It’s optimising the temperature for my immune cells to fight off the bugs. This is gonna pass. Stop worrying.”

Lightly, you shove his face away and slide down the bed until you’re buried neck-deep by the covers, mouth pursed in a tight, irritated pout that Taehyung finds adorable.

“Then you shouldn’t have a problem with me kissing you then, if it’s nothing to worry about.” Taehyung hovers over you, dangerously close, and you quickly cover your own mouth this time. This is a fun game, one that he knows he will win. If there is one thing that can overcome your stubbornness, it’s his own health in jeopardy. And Taehyung doesn’t even feel remotely bad for taking advantage of that.

It’s not that he wants to catch this sickness from you… But if that’s what it takes to threaten you to seek medical help, then he’ll do it a hundred times.

Plus, he misses your lips, okay? It’s a win-win situation for him: either he gets to kiss you, or you let him take you to the doctor. Genius.

For a moment, you just stare back at him, fury brewing in those eyes that are no longer hazy from the fever but ablaze with annoyance and displeasure. But he already knows what your answer will be.

“You’re a bully, Kim Taehyung, you’re a fucking bully. I’m not going to speak to you ever again.”

Taehyung chuckles and hauls you out of bed.

You sulk at the way to the hospital, not uttering a single word to Taehyung as you swore you would. He’s kind of impressed, actually. Anything he asks you, you would reply with a nod, shake, or shrug. He guesses it’s a combination of your anger and genuine fatigue and light-headedness.

When he tries to loop his arm around yours in the Uber, you let him, but look out the window as if he isn’t right beside you. Hmpf, so this is what he gets for looking after you. Fine, he can handle it.

“Are you just going to ignore my presence, baby?” The pet name is intentional, to tease you further and see if you would break your silence to tell him off.

You don’t fall for it.

Instead, you briefly turn to him, give him a daggered look that says I’ll never suck you off again, and turn back around, pretending to find the empty streets wildly interesting.

“Fine, baby girl. Suit yourself.” Taehyung catches the driver’s amused eyes in the rearview mirror. Something along the lines of: women, am I right? He smiles and rests his head on yours for the rest of the ride.

Upon arrival to the hospital, you silently storm out of the car and register at the reception. Taehyung doesn’t quite understand why you’re so mad, and what exactly you have against doctors that appears to be so personal, but he is finding this rather entertaining.

The two of you are ushered to the waiting room by a kind-looking nurse roughly of his mother’s age, the type of kind that makes you want to pour your heart out and entrust her with all your secrets.

Still not a peep from you. Though many sniffs.

“How are you feeling right now?” He asks as he sits himself down on the seat next to you. It could be wishful thinking but your eyes soften when you look at him. You throw him a thumbs down before returning to the form you are intently filling out.

You are startled when Taehyung takes your chin in his long fingers, pulls you slightly closer to him and plants his lips on your fever-heated cheek. “I’ll get you some water then.” He gets up before he can dwell too long on your reaction, the way you are completely frozen, pen nib pressed so hard on the paper that a blodge of ink has oozed out of the ballpoint. If he dwells too long, he thinks his heart might do a funny thing.

As he walks towards the water dispenser in the corner of the room, he passes the nurse again, who smiles knowingly at him as she heads towards where you are sitting, no doubt to check up on you. God, he wants to spill all his feelings to this nurse. She reminds him of his grandmother when he was young.

Taehyung returns with a cup of cool water, this one more full than the one he’d poured for you this morning. He finds you chatting quietly to the nurse, the face mask she had just handed you resting around your chin, oblivious to his approach.

“You are lucky to have such a great boyfriend, young lady. Trust me, he’s a keeper.” The nurse muses at her.

Taehyung fully expects you to scoff or choke on your own spit, stand up and yell at the clueless woman: WHAT THE FUCK, HE IS NOT MY BOYFRIEND. EW. WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU? Because that has totally happened before; people tend to mistaken you two as a couple everywhere you go.

Except... You just blink at the nurse, rather blankly as if trying to comprehend her words. Then you nod.

Just nod.

The paper cup almost slips out of Taehyung’s hand.

“Love, the way he looks at you? Anyone would die to be looked at like that.” The nurse continues.

Taehyung rushes to your side before she can say more.

“Here. Water.” Clearing his throat, he hands you the cup without making any eye contact. He hopes he’s not blushing but the heat rushing to his face says otherwise. When he glances up at the nurse, she is smiling at him as if she knows exactly what is going on in his mind.

“Thanks.” You whisper.

Oh, so you’re back to speaking to him now. Is it because of what she said? When your eyes meet, something clicks. An emotional click that tells him that your annoyance towards him had been a mask for your genuine gratitude. Taehyung’s chest is fuzzy with relief.

Not long later, you are called to the doctor’s room. Taehyung sits waiting for you outside, silently pondering the nurse’s words and your lack of protest.

“Come on, Y/N, what’s the point of going to the doctors if you aren’t going to take the medicine they prescribe you?” Taehyung lets out a rumble of frustration. A bottle of water and a packet of pills clutched in one hand, he is this close to plucking his hair out.

“The point of going to the doctors was to get you not to kiss me and catch the same flu. The doctor said this virus is contagious, and could still be at this stage.” Your voice, nasal from your blocked nose, is stifled further by the face mask. Changed into a t-shirt and shorts so you don’t sweat through your clothes again - yes, the shorts, the heatwave shorts - you cross your arms and roll to the other side of the bed. Taehyung’s hand is itching to spank your ass pink.

“That means I’ll probably get ill anyway in the next few days. We literally kissed yesterday.” He points out, and it might be psychological but his head is beginning to hurt a little. Of course, he wouldn’t dare tell you or else you’d turn this around and be the one fussing over him. “Come here.”

Taehyung locks his fingers around your ankles and drags you back towards him, ignoring your feeble squeak. He gives in and smacks your butt lightly.

“Oi!” You twist around and kick the shackles of his grip off. “You dare hit the sick?! My head is killing me as it is.” Sniff.

“Oh, so you admit that you’re sick? Why don’t you take the medicine then?” Forcing you onto his lap, he wrestles your battling arms and hold them in place behind your body. In any other situation, he would be awfully turned on right now. Something about your brattiness is a kink to him.

With the rest of your face covered by the mask, your eyes are fiercely emanating your obstinate defiance. It should be a scary look, your death glare, but after this long, anything you do in Taehyung’s eyes has been reduced to animated cuteness. He feels like he’s the only one who could go up against you like this without cowering. You’ve stopped struggling against his grip now, rather sulking as you’re perched on his thighs. He doesn’t hesitate that you’re unconsciously pouting behind that mask.

“Because I promise I’m going to feel better. Medicine is for the weak. The doctor said herself that the fever will subside tomorrow! Then what’s the point of administering these extra chemicals into my body if I’m recovering on my own?” You whine.

“To help you recover better!”

“Flu medicine is a scam. You’re too gullible-”

“Do you love or care about me at all?”

You tense at his abrupt question that appears out of the blue. “Well... yeah. You-You’re my best friend. Which is why I don’t want you falling sick too, so just shoo.” You’re squirming, trying to brush off your initial surprise at his question which is all the more accentuating your bashfulness. Taehyung just wants to kiss, god dammit.

“Then don’t you know that it’s killing me to see you in pain like this? To see my best friend burning up with a fever and refusing to let me look after her? Are you seriously that cold-hearted to let me suffer like this if you claim to love and care about me?”

Yes, Taehyung is playing this game. Emotional manipulation? Yes. Probably a little bit of a dick move? Yes. But does he care as long as it does the trick? No.

“Bro, you can’t use this against me. Just let me suffer, I like to suffer, this fever feels fucking fantastic.” When he lets your wrists go, you punch his arm lightly, frowning, though he can see the tiniest spark of amusement in your pupils. Not to mention the rise in your cheeks that indicates your attempt in hiding a smile.

“Shut up and be a good girl, or I’ll kiss you right now.” Hands running up your bare legs, he tugs you closer by the hip before resting his arms around your waist. Though you’re arching away, he sees your cheeks rise even higher.

“Stop trying to kiss me.” You groan overdramatically and try to wriggle away; you would think he’s the one with the illness from how much you’re trying to get away from him. When you proceed to clamp both hands over your masked mouth, Taehyung knows he’d sooner receive the ball of your foot to his temple than be able to feel your lips at this rate.

Okay fine, different approach. “I’ll cut my hair off.”

“What? No-nO. Dude that’s not fair, what the fuck?” Your whole body falls limp in defeat in his arms as you wail. Taehyung can’t help but laugh. “Okay I will take the stupid medicine. Please don’t cut your hair.”

“Okay, good girl.” Humming against your neck, he tries to hide the smug grin of his victory. “On one more condition though.”

“Wow, you’re literally using my love for your hair as blackmail, you dick. Spit it out.” He feels your fingers sink through his long untamed curls, tips massaging his scalp like your lover. Taehyung sometimes feels like you love his hair as if it is a completely separate entity from him, like if you could marry his hair, you would.

“Let me kiss your mouth.” He looks up at you, craned neck and sheepish smile. He knows he’s being unfairly demanding, especially of someone who is ill. But it’s been over 12 hours since you have last kissed. 12 hours. Come on. He’s only human.

“Taehyung, I swear to G-” If your legs weren’t straddled around him, he knows his chest would be met with your foot.

“And I swear to God I’ll get a buzz cut.” Not even bluffing. Every other guy goes through a crisis at some point in their life and gets a god awful buzz cut. Nothing special.

“OH MY GOD- NO. BUZZCUT? NO. Okay, okay, quickly kiss me over the mask, then I’ll take the fucking meds.” The utter horror and mortification that detonates across your face has Taehyung cackling. In the back of his mind, he wonders if you’d still like him with no hair. He’s sometimes afraid that you wouldn’t. But then again, he has vomited on your face before, yet you still like him. So there’s that.

“Wait over the mask?” It just registers with him what you said.

“I’m all gross. You don’t want to kiss me on the lips anyway.” Your gaze falls as you sniffle for probably the thousandth time today, hand reaching to scratch the back of your neck but dropping it right away when you realise that it’s a nervous tick.

Taehyung sighs. “Over the mask is better than no kiss. I’ll take it.”

As his face approaches yours, he is keenly aware that you’re unwilling to meet his eyes. Cute. Soon, your eyes are level with each other, yet you only dare peer at his nose. He boops his nose to yours, breath separated only by the thin material of the mask, waiting for you to lean in.

But when you make no move to initiate it, Taehyung smiles. God, since when did you become so shy. He knows he tends to have this effect on people but since when did he turn you into a blushing, eye-avoiding mess?

He doesn’t expect much when he places his mouth over yours. The gauzy material of the mask grazes his lips, smelling like the overly-sanitised stench of hospital. So he is surprised to find something in him tingle slightly, even despite such physical obstruction of intimacy. The white fabric folds over the curve of your lips to mould with his. He feels a rush of cool from the sharp inhale through your nose.

He pulls away sooner than you want. Your expression is confused by the short duration of the kiss, so not what you expected and is used to.

“I’m sorry, that’s not going to do it for me.” Taehyung rasps. And with that, he pinches the mask down and presses fully onto your lips.

Your heat that greets him sends a surge down his spine. Jeez, you are burning. But he’s pretty sure he is too, from the way he can hear his blood pounding in his ear. You are completely static at first, frozen in place from shock of his boldness. He can wager what exactly is going on in your head. This boy. This boy has some fucking nerve.

And that is correct, he does have some fucking nerve.

But soon, you are kissing him back, probably not out of your own free will but simply from the natural instinct that overrides you when met with his lips. Nowadays, kissing each other feels like sinking into your bed after a long day at college. Comfortable, heart-warming. Kissing other people doesn’t feel half as nice, just like how no bed ever feels like your bed.

Taehyung can sense how much you’ve been longing for this as well from the low gentle vibrations of your throat as you purr. Your entire face is a few degrees hotter than it normally is, and worry is gnawing at the back of his brain almost irrationally. Because he knows that as much as you are bickering with him and acting playful, your head must be hammering. The last time he’d checked, your temperature was still 39˚C.

He has to be the one to pull away again. “You’re burning.” He watches your eyes linger on his glistening lips before glancing up. “How are you feeling?”

“I’m fine…” You whisper, leaning up to peck his lips several more times. There are moments where Taehyung’s heart completely clenches, like seizes. You say you don’t want to kiss him for his own good, yet here you are savouring his taste like you can’t get enough. Fuck. Taehyung is feeling things.

“Are you sure? Here, take this.” He passes you the bottle of water and packet of medication that were carelessly tossed to the side when he was busy holding you. Without protest, out of fear for the fate of Taehyung’s hair no doubt, you pop a pill out of its foil bubble. “Two pills at once, three times a day.”

“Yes, dad.” You roll your eyes and put them in your mouth, swallowing without so much of a gag.

Taehyung sucks in. “Don’t say the d-word.”

“Wh- I purposely said dad, not daddy.” Flabbergasted by his implication, you scoff and remove yourself from his lap, rolling back under the covers until no more than a burrito with your face peeking out. “I can’t believe you are even thinking about that, nympho.” Sniff again, though you make no effort to put your mask back up.

“Hey, I’ve been so good, I was just warning you! That’s a triggering word for me.” Taehyung joins you under the cool duvet. “You have absolutely zero right to call me a nympho. Do I have to remind you of the time you called me out of my lecture so we could fuck in the toilets in the middle of a school day? Or that time in the library-”

“Shhh. I’m ill, my memory is a little hazy.” You smile, rather wholesomely, at him.

Sometimes, when he looks at you, he can look through the narrow windows of your ego and view the persona that lie within. Just a girl who loves kisses and cuddles and making bad decisions at 3am.

And maybe a girl who loves him.

You fall asleep fairly quickly after the medication. One would have thought that would give Taehyung plenty of time to make use of his day, maybe start an abstract painting or finish his coursework due in a week and a half. But nope.

Taehyung has discovered that he has an extremely irrational fear of you being sick. He simply couldn’t stop himself from going into your room every 15 minutes, making sure that you’re still breathing and placing cold towels on your sweat-beaded forehead to help your temperature drop. You are in deep sleep, shallow breaths, no eye movement. He may have snuck in a few cheek kisses just to check if you’re really asleep, and you were. He still kissed you a bit more anyway.

After a whole evening of restlessness, he finally decides to give up and go to bed. He debates sleeping with you, just for his own peace of mind, but you probably want your own space anyway.

So, after brushing his teeth and changing into his so-called jammies - he will give you shit for that once you feel better - he quietly creeps into your room one last time with a fresh towel. With soundless steps, he perches lightly on the edge of your bed, eyes adjusting to the pitch darkness.

This time, you wince slightly at the cold wetness of the towel, rousing, but not completely conscious.

“Taehyung?” Your voice is incredibly hoarse, barely a croak, so he scrambles for your bottle of water and feeds it to you.

“Hey, it’s me.” He murmurs softly, and resumes wiping your forehead gently.

“Wh… are you do..g here?” Incoherent syllables indicate how you’re mostly still asleep.

“Looking after my baby. I’ll go to bed and leave you to rest soon.”

When your hand abruptly flies up and clamps around his, Taehyung jumps. You’re freezing. “No. Don’t go, please.”

His mind doesn’t know what to respond to first, your sudden cold sweats, or your request for him to stay. His chest squeezes. “I- H- You’re freezing, Y/N.”

“I know, but please stay.” In the dark, Taehyung can only barely make out the shape of your face and see that your eyes are still shut. Maybe you’re dreaming.

Please stay.

“Okay, don’t worry, of course I’ll stay. But just please tell me how you’re feeling?” He climbs in at the other side of the bed and presses his palm on your neck. Your temperature regulation is fucked up by this fever. Seeing you like this makes something in him crack.

“Finenowthatyou’rehere.” You snuggle up to his chest and mumble into his hoodie, already beginning to fall back into heavy slumber.

Chest squeeze, again.

Taehyung feels his own heart pounding. These words of endearment are rare from you; he’s going to hold on to them for as long as he can. He plants a kiss on your forehead. “Of course I’m here. I’m always here.”

He is such a sap, he knows, a hopeless fool. But you’re his missing part, he feels it in his bones. He hopes that he’s yours too.

Then you mutter something inaudible into his chest. The iciness of your touch flails his back as your hands reach beneath his hoodie to hold him tighter. There’s something about the way the scene is set, how you’re delirious from your fever, clinging onto him in complete darkness of your room. Taehyung’s emotions are flooding.

“What was that?”

“I love you so much, Taehyung.”

His brain short-circuits entirely. It just switches off.

Love

You

Much,

Taehyung.

Words that he’d never expected to hear from you, not tonight, not any time in the near future, and certainly not unprovoked like this, utterly at your own accord.

Then his brain turns itself back on again, and is instantly swept away by the chaos that breaks out. “W... What do you mean by that?” He needs to know that he’s interpreting this correctly and rather than hearing what he wants to hear.

“Mmmm...” You groan sleepily. Taehyung shouldn’t take this too seriously right? You’re not even in your right mind. Your head is still buried in him, inhaling his scent like he is your oxygen. “You know what I mean. I just mean I love you a lot more than I love myself.” Sniff. “I love you big and tall and wide. I love you and only you, that’s it.”

I love you a lot more than I love myself. I love you big and tall and wide. I love you and only you, that’s it.

Taehyung feels a sting in his eye, what the fuck.

He isn’t moving. He doesn’t think he can. And so you just lay there in each other’s arms, in complete silence, but also not silence because you had just declared your love for him and all his thoughts are screaming.

What the fuck is ‘I love you big and tall and wide’? He fucking loves you big and tall and wide too.

Okay. Okay. Let’s stay calm.

No. He loves you.

He has loved you for a very long time, and a part of him has always known. It’s you. It’s always you. The way you met. The way you found each other. The way everything fell in place in his life after you. It’s fate. It’s all fate. And it’s all you. Because Taehyung is not a violent person by any means, but he would kill for you, he would do anything for you. It scares him.

And that’s just the funny way that love works. A lot of the times, it is standing right there in front of you, waving its hands and shouting for you attention. And you dismiss it at first because you mistake it for friendship, even though there’s an inkling in you that has considered the possibility that it’s more than that. So you go about your life, day by day with this person who you love but don’t know you love yet, collecting your little moments together into a heart-shaped glass jar without realising it. Until one day you look at the jar and see that it’s completely full.

His heart is full. His heart is full of you.

He doesn’t know what to do or what that means. He isn’t even sure of his own feelings, whether it is a heat of the moment confusion, or a cauldron of bubbling emotions at the brim of spillage.

But no, he is sure.

He knows that he loves you. He knows it.

Because why else would nothing boil his blood more than the sight of you in the arms of someone else? Why else would nothing hurt more than seeing you in pain like this? Why else would nothing bring him more joy than simply sitting next to you, being able to touch you, making you laugh? And why else would it feel like he can spend the rest of forever just looking at you, memorising your details while you play with his hair that you love so much?

He loves you.

It is perhaps the darkness that gives him such courage, because he gathers himself and says, “I love you. So fucking much, I love you, Y/N. I thought I knew what love was before you, I thought I was happy and content with my life. But now, I can’t even remember what I was like without you. Because that guy wasn’t me. I’m not me without you. And I love you. I entirely belong to you. And I love you.

“I love you a lot more than I love myself. I love you big and tall and wide. I love you and only you, that’s it.”

And it’s like a weight has been lifted off his chest. His insides aren’t twisted into knots anymore. Suddenly, he can see with such clarity. In the dark, he only sees you.

He sees you fast asleep against his chest. Arms looped around his waist in a way that makes him never want to leave his bed.

Taehyung takes a deep breath and exhales. Maybe from relief.

You are asleep. You hadn’t heard.

Yes, he is definitely relieved. He doesn’t think he’s ready to face the consequences of his feelings yet if he had really just poured his heart out to you. You probably didn’t mean it that way anyway; he is overthinking.

But the ‘I love you so much, Taehyung.’ The heartfelt passion in your voice could not have been his imagination.

So, with a great sigh, he makes use of the fact that you’re asleep to rehearse it a few more times.

“I love you. I love you. I love you.”

02/02/19

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