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dumbikawa · 3 years

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Fighting /W HQ Boys And Being Comforted By Their Teammate

GN!Reader | Angst to Fluff | Warnings: None

Characters: Oikawa, Akaashi

A/n: I tried to edit the format on mobile so I hope everything is in the right place lmao

OIKAWA

- Oikawa had been training much more than usual, which was already an ungodly amount as it is, leaving the two of you barely any time to talk let alone hang out.

- You understood, though, to some degree. Volleyball was his passion and Nationals was his last chance, in his mind, to prove he was good enough. Winning this was everything to him.

- You tried to bring him snacks every day either in-between classes, before practice, or after practice because it was obvious he wasn’t taking care of himself the way he should, and it pained you.

- The night before they left for Nationals, you waited for him to get out of practice so you could wish him luck in person since they’d be leaving early the following day. Your planned speech was forgotten, though, when you noticed a slight limp in his step.

- Not being able to hold back your concerns anymore, you asked him about it, and he snapped at you before heading off in the opposite direction.

- That night you walked home alone. Well, almost. Iwaizumi found you, knowing the route since often all three of you often walked together.

- He allowed you to rant about his sometimes idiotic best friend, explaining how you had been desperately trying to keep the relationship afloat, how understanding you were when he couldn’t spend any time with you, and the various ways you tried to take care of him since apparently he wasn’t capable of doing it himself. Yet, he showed his appreciation by yelling at you?

- Iwa laid a gentle hand on your shoulder, his attempt at comfort. You leaned forward and gave him a quick hug, thanking him for allowing you to just complain and blow off steam.

- What neither of you noticed, though, was an apologetic, guilty Oikawa watching as his best friend did the job he had ran here to do, and, honestly, probably doing a better job then he would’ve. It was only natural for you to gravitate to somebody who could actually be there for you, he thought. He should’ve known it would happen sooner rather than later, so he turned and walked away.

You feel slightly idiotic as you step out of your car and follow the crowd towards the packed stadium. After not returning any of your calls or texts from last night or this morning, and the last exchange you had with him being less than stellar, you’d still made the drive to watch him at Nationals because, despite all that happened, you loved him much more than he even knew, and you wouldn’t miss this for the world. Whether it ended in celebrations or tears, you wanted to be by his side through it all.

And, as heartbreaking as it was to watch their final match, you realized there would be no celebrating.

It hadn’t sunk in yet. He refused to believe the pain, the dedication, the putting everything else on hold had only led him to defeat. It wasn’t possible. He needed to stay strong, though. He couldn’t allow himself to cry afterwards with the rest of his team.

He trailed behind as they walked out of the gym, his eyes betraying him as they watered while he tried to scan the stands for a face he wasn't even sure would be there. You were another thing he had sacrificed to be here. The best thing he had in his life next to volleyball. Why would you want to see him after he was so awful? Especially when he had nothing to show for it.

Yet, there you were. The sadness he couldn’t yet express was written on your face. His eyes trailed down and noticed you were wearing one of his sweatshirts. That’s when it all came crashing down on him, and there you were to catch him.

“I-I wasn’t...I wasn’t good enough,” he stammers, his muscular body colliding with your sturdy figure. He buries his face in the crook of your neck, finding comfort in the way his sweatshirt now smelled like your perfume. “Not for my team, not for you--”

“Tooru,” you hum, his name feeling like home coming from your lips, “what are you talking about ‘for you’?” You place your hands on either side of his face, pulling him back just enough so you can look into his teary eyes.

“I saw you with Iwa after I--” His face contorts in pain as he thinks back to his words from last night and more tears spill past his lashes. “You turned to someone else because of me.”

Your heart breaks at the thought of him seeing that and thinking that you’d begun to move on from him, as if that were even a possibility.

“No, no, baby. I was upset, yes, but Iwa was just making sure I was okay. He could never replace the love I feel being in your arms or the butterflies I get when kissing you. Nobody could.” Oikawa feels his rigid body softening at your words, allowing himself to believe that’s the truth.. “I wish you would take care of yourself, or, at least, let me help pick up the slack. I’m so proud of you, your team is proud of you, and, most importantly, you are good enough, okay?” He wasn’t sure there were any tears left for him to cry, but another wave of sobs rack through his body. You pull him closer, whispering reassurances and sweet nothings for only him to hear while tracing soft circles on his back.

He felt a weight lifting off his shoulders as he allowed himself to relax in your arms. He wasn’t sure if it was from knowing you were still there for him, or if it was because, regardless of how it ended, it was all over and that provided a confusing relief in itself.

All he focused on, though, was the thought that there was no one else he wanted by his side for the rest of his life.

AKAASHI

- Akaashi felt the self-doubt creeping up on him. It seemed like he’d been on a steady decline in nearly every aspect of his life lately; volleyball, school, and even his relationship with you.

- His sets felt messy and it was only a matter of time before his team would take notice of it. And with practice nearly every night after school, he wasn’t finding the time to get the work done that he needed for classes. Then there was you. He never thought he was good enough for you and with everything else weighing his mood down, he didn’t want to make you feel bad, too.

- That’s when he’d put up a wall between him and everybody else, including you.

- You knew the moment he pulled back and decided to give him some space for a week or two, hoping that’s what he needed.

- When that didn’t work, you decided to ask him about it. Even if he didn’t want to talk about it, perhaps just knowing you were still there would be enough to make him feel a little better.

- Safe to say, it didn’t go as you’d planned.

- “I have to get these assignments done, y/n, I don’t have time to talk.” Keiji, I just want to-- “Y/n! I can’t right now, can’t you see? I can’t deal with this at the moment.”

- You didn’t feel like fighting, so you left, letting the door slam shut behind you.

For the first time since you and Keiji started dating, you wore your own hoodie to school. There was no inherent statement behind it, but if he wanted to take it as some sort of low blow you didn’t care. It had been a couple days since you left his house with tears pooling in your eyes and it felt like your heart was hurting more and more each day the two of you didn’t talk.

Bokuto could tell there was something off between the two of you. He’d observed it weeks before, but figured it wasn’t his place to necessarily say anything. At this point, though, it had been going on for too long and he didn’t like seeing two of his closest friends hurting.

“Hey y/n!” Bokuto’s cheery call cut through your miserable mood. You hadn’t been swinging by to watch practice and avoided the dining hall, so you weren’t seeing him as much as you’re used to. You found it easy to return his ear to ear grin and began walking with him in the direction of the gym.

“It might not be my place to ask, but what happened?” The smile slipped right off your face and you had to physically turn away to avoid meeting his puppy dog eyes that would have you telling him everything.

Your eyes begin to water as your mind walks back through that night. A scoff leaves your lips as you begin to dab away the escaping tears. Bokuto, alarmed and guilty that he made you cry, envelops you in a bone-crushing hug. It felt...incredible, though. In trying to get Akaashi to open up, you forgot to follow your own advice.

Everything spilled out as you let the tears fall on Bokuto’s blazer. How Akaashi had pulled away so you tried to give him space. That when you attempted to talk to him about it he lashed out at you. Bokuto listened thoughtfully, recognizing times he’d seen his friend put up these same walls before. There wasn’t much he could offer in the way of advice, but all you needed was for him to listen.

Akaashi watched you pull away from Bokuto’s arms and laugh at something he’d said, a genuine smile gracing your lips. It hadn’t occurred to him how long it’d been since he saw you smile like that. He felt awful for what he said the other day and regretted it all the moment he saw the hurt on your face. Letting you go seemed like the best thing to do because maybe then you could find somebody to make you smile instead of cry. And, perhaps, you already had.

He closes his eyes with a sigh, letting himself slide down to the floor, thinking about the way you were smiling and imagining a scenario where it was because of him.

“Keiji?” Your soft voice pulls him from his thoughts as he looks up to see you standing a little bit away from him, an unsure look on your face.

“Y/n.” Everything he wants to say is stuck in his throat, so he settles for a simple, “I’m so sorry.” It wasn’t enough, he knows, but you still sit down next to him.

“What’s going on in your head?” You hug your knees close to your body and turn to look at him. He wants so badly to reach out and hold your face, watching your eyes drift close when you lean into his touch.

“You deserve better. Someone happier like Bo. I’m not a good boyfriend--”

“When did you become a liar?” You cut him off, wanting to stop his harmful train of thinking immediately. He’s taken aback, not sure what to say, so you continue. “Do you remember when you brought me my favorite food because my favorite character died? Or how whenever we’re in a crowd you put your hand behind your back for me to hold so we don’t get separated?” He wants to smile, thinking back to those moments, but remembering the things he said the other day stops him.

“But I’ve been so horrible to you recently.”

“You haven’t been horrible, Keiji. You’ve just got a lot going on up there. There’s no pressure to tell me about it, but I’m here and I’m not leaving unless you really want me to.”

Nothing else had to be said. He leans forward and rests his head on your shoulder. Your arm goes around him, a physical affirmation that your words are true. One talk wasn’t going to solve everything. The self-doubt would still be there, and they might always be. But he felt comfort in the fact that he could share more with you without that fear of bringing you down with him.

#haikyuu!!#haikyuu headcanons #haikyuu!! x reader #haikyuu x reader #oikawa x reader #akaashi x reader #oikawa fluff #akaashi fluff #oikawa angst #akaashi angst #oikawa headcanons #akaashi headcanons #oikawa torū #akaashi keiji #haikyuu #akaashi keji x reader #oikawa toru x reader

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shingia · 3 years

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𝐒/𝐎 𝐆𝐄𝐓𝐒 𝐈𝐍𝐉𝐔𝐑𝐄𝐃

stay safe and warm up conscientiously my dudes <3

⤷ hinata, tsukishima, yamaguchi, suga, oikawa, akaashi

warnings : knee, ankle, shoulder injuries

↳ hinata (basketball)

▻ there were only five minutes left and karasuno was two points behind. now was the time to give your all as you went in for the jump that would hopefully block your opponent’s attack

▻ when you felt the familiar texture of the ball against your fingertips, you focused all your strength in your arm and smashed it to the ground with an unbreakable determination

▻ it worked. it worked ! a loud roaring from the stands reached your ears, stirring up the wild fire that was burning in you

▻ but sadly, this wild fire vanished in a matter of seconds when your foot twisted to the right and your ankle hit the floor full force

▻ you let out a piercing scream as a sharp pain was radiating from your ankle to your whole leg

▻ “that’s it. it’s over for me” you thought as tears sprinkled the corner of your eyes

▻ you had no idea how much time it took the first aiders to come to you, but it did not matter. right now you couldn’t think about anything else than your sheer disappointment in yourself. your mind was numb. it was all your fault.

▻ the first tear you let out was when you were laying on the observation table of the infirmary, an ice pack on your elevated ankle as the first aider was out calling your parents

▻ you hadn’t been alone for long when the door suddenly burst open. you immediately recognized your boyfriend’s ginger locks

▻ but when your eyes fixed upon his face, you realized that he looked nothing like the shōyō you knew

▻ his everlasting spark seemed gone and he was looking at you with worried and sorry eyes for the first time ever

▻ he was about to say something when you suddenly broke down in tears right in front of him

▻ seeing you like this truly broke his heart. he couldn’t even imagine how you felt, although he really wanted to. he wanted you to give him your pain

▻ however, he knew exactly what to say to make you feel better. he ran to your bed and wrapped his arms around you, holding your sobbing body tightly before saying as happily as he could : “karasuno won, y/n ! they won for you !”

▻ you looked at him with red and swollen eyes. his bright face that you knew so well was back, and the colossal weight of guilt that was crushing you was slowly starting to disappear

▻ “they’ll be here in a few minutes. and you’ll see that nobody’s mad at you... except yourself. but absolutely none of this is your fault, alright ? don’t let these bad thoughts get to you, please... or i’ll fight you myself”

▻ you let out a faint laugh, still wrapped in the tenderness of his embrace and not ready to let go just yet

▻ for the months that followed your injury, shōyō was more than happy to help you with rehabilitation. he also made you write down every single progress you made, so that you could read it whenever you felt down

▻ he insisted on accompanying you to every match your team played without you, because he knew how hard it could be for you to watch from this side of the gym

▻ also, he definitely tried your crutches and did tricks with them

↳ tsukishima (tennis)

▻ tsukki was not even supposed to attend your match. but daichi knew that the first and second years had to study for their exams next week and decided to end their practice early, which is why he thought it’d be a good idea to come see you play

▻ you were really good at tennis, but you tended to overwork yourself and always tried to push your limits. physically or mentally

▻ he had already told you that this behavior would lead you to an injury, but you were too stubborn to listen to him

▻ so obviously, he was not very surprised when he saw you fall to the ground while painfully holding your shoulder as you let out harrowing sobs

▻ he might not have been surprised, but that didn't mean he was not concerned. he was actually pretty worried

▻ however, he was sensible and knew better than to run to you impulsively and bother the medics ; so he kept his distance until your were taken in hand

▻ you were laying on the floor, still painfully sobbing from both pain and frustration when you felt a hand on your leg

▻ you wiped away the tears that were troubled your sight and recognized your boyfriend’s face who was looking at you from above with his brows furrowed

▻ “go ahead, say it” you sniffled “« i told you »”

▻ tsukki shook his head no with a scoff “i won’t. not now at least. what did the medics say ?”

▻ “i have to go for an x-ray and ultrasound to make sure nothing’s fractured” you answered after swallowing the lump in your throat

▻ he sat more comfortably next to you and kept rubbing circles on your thigh, telling you that he’d stay with you for as long as he’s allowed to

▻ he knew very well that you were going to be hard enough on yourself so, for once, he put aside his salty comments and focused on taking your mind off of the pain

▻ so he thought he’d explain to you why he had finally been able to come. he also told you that from the little he had seen, you had played better than ever, hoping that this would make you feel at least a bit better

▻ emotional support might not be tsukki’s forte, but during your convalescence, he helped in his own way by thinking about how you could still play a role in your sport while being immobilized

▻ he encouraged you to ask your coach if you could help train the younger players, which you started doing a week after the accident - and it was one of the best idea tsukki had ever had

▻ even if he couldn’t go with you to all your doctor’s appointments, he knew all the dates by heart and always called you afterwards

↳ yamaguchi (gymnastics)

▻ yamaguchi loved to see you perform your routines and was always amazed at how you made everything look so effortless. and you loved knowing that he was there for you in the stands

▻ however, when you lost balance during a jump over the bar and dislocated your shoulder while trying to grab hold of it, you thought that for once it would have been better for him not to come and witness that

▻ the pain was sharp, like your joint was trying to pop out of your skin at any moment. although your coach tried to be as reassuring as she could, you couldn’t help but imagine the worst

▻ and that’s when you saw him. deathly pale, tadashi was standing next to the stairs that connected the stands to the competition hall, visibly weighing whether or not he should come and see you

▻ three medics came in no time and carefully put you on a stretcher before taking you to a quieter room where you’d have to wait for the ambulance. your coach was still with you, but you knew she had to deal with the rest of your teammates

▻ “go back there, they still need you” you told her “but before you leave, my boyfriend is in the competition hall, could you-”

▻ you weren’t even done talking that yamaguchi burst in the room, looking absolutely terrified. he rushed to you and your coach decided to leave, you were in good hands now

▻ “i’m alright, tadashi, i’m alright” you lied with a forced smile

▻ he squeezed your hand, his jaw clenched. “stop preserving me, it’s my turn to reassure you for once. it’s okay if you’re not alright, i’m here”

▻ at his words, a single tear ran down your cheek which he stopped by softly brushing your skin with his finger. you smiled gratefully at his angelic face, which was still tensed with worry

▻ “w-will you come to the hospital with me ?” you asked, finally letting your fear show through your voice

▻ tadashi obviously accepted to accompany you. actually, he was there every step of the way, until your parents took over

▻ for quite some time after your injury, tadashi stopped talking about volleyball. he thought it was unfair to talk to you about it when you were immobilized for at least a month

▻ but hearing him talk about his sport was one of the things you enjoyed most so you asked him not to refrain himself. if there was something he wanted to tell you, you were more than happy to listen

▻ however, it did not mean that you didn’t have moments when your sadness and anger were too much to handle

▻ at first, you were reluctant to call him when it happened. but nobody could comfort you the way tadashi did and he often stayed on the phone with you until you fell asleep

↳ suga (track)

▻ it was the first time. the first time suga wasn’t there to cheer for you from the stands. and of course you had to get your first injury in seven years of practice during that time

▻ he had a practice match the day of your competition, but you assured him that you’d be alright without him. which was now a lie, obviously

▻ you were on your way to the hospital to have an ultrasound, which would let you know how much of your hamstring had torn, and you still hadn’t told anything to suga

▻ a call seemed like the easiest way to warn him, but you feared that it might interrupt him during his match so you opted for a text, trying to make it sound the less worrisome as possible

▻ but based on suga’s panicked tone when he called you right after his match, your definition of “not worrisome” was definitely not the same as his

▻ he told you he’d come to the hospital right away but you refused and told him to meet you at your house in about an hour

▻ he was at your front door twenty minutes later. just to be sure

▻ when you finally got back, he wanted nothing more than to run to you for the tightest hug of his life. but just as he was about to wrap his arms around you, he froze and took a step back

▻ “no. no touching. i’m not taking any risk” he stated

▻ you chuckled and told him that except for your left leg, the rest of your body was more than disposed to be hug. but seeing that he was still reluctant, you pulled him in for a hug yourself

▻ although he didn’t want to tell you about it, he felt extremely guilty that he had not been there for you. he knew that he would not have been able to change the outcome, but he could have provided moral support ; that was one of the things he was the best at

▻ so he made you promise that if you were to be in trouble again, you’d call him no matter what. and you had no other choice but to promise him (he could be dreadfully convincing)

▻ he made up for his absence by pampering you ten times more than before, which was no small thing to say since he was already very devoted to your every needs

▻ and his pampering included hours of cheering you up every time the fear of never getting back to the same level as before seized you

▻ however, he knew better than to just your sadness to the back of your mind, so if you ever needed a good cry, his shoulder was there for you

▻ “let it all out, it’s alright, pumpkin. i didn’t care about this shirt anyways”

▻ as soon as you were allowed to go for short runs again, you can be sure that suga went with you every single time in case something was to happen again

↳ oikawa (ice skating)

▻ tōru had the reputation of being rather confident and proud of who he was, and you loved that about him

▻ after dating for about a year, you were now one of the fortunate ones that tōru was as proud of as he was of himself. and this was especially evident during your figure skating performances

▻ your body was so graceful when it moved on the ice, he considered you a true piece of art

▻ as for you, you were proud to be loved by such an amazing athlete, and seeing him in the front row when you entered the skating rink never failed to boost your confidence

▻ today was the day of the qualifications for the nationals, and you were one of the favorites of the competition. the pressure was on and you had to give everything you had during the four minutes and thirty seconds you spent on the rink

▻ unfortunately, you gave more than you had. which was too much for your body

▻ as soon as you heard a crack in your knee, you knew it was over. and when your body hit the ice full force after your failed landing, everyone around knew too

▻ the pain, the frustration, the anger, the distress, tōru was familiar with those

▻ he grabbed his bag and your jacket that he had kept with him before running out of the stands and try to meet with you as soon as he could

▻ but sadly, the staff did not let him enter the room you were kept in while waiting for the ambulance. he was furious and this close to make a scandal. but luckily, he reconsidered it and decided to use his head instead

▻ and thirty seconds later, he was standing next to your bed, holding your trembling hand in his

▻ “if anyone asks, i’m your brother” he whispered while placing a reassuring kiss on your forehead

▻ tears sprinkled the corner of his eyes and he did not even bother to wipe them away. it broke his heart to see you go through something even worse than what he had to endure with his ankle

▻ but on the other hand, he knew what words you needed to hear right now and he wanted to be the support he did not have

▻ “i know... i know this seems like a nightmare. but it’s not over, you’ll make it through, honey. and you’re not alone, nobody here is stupid enough to give up on you.”

▻ you did not realize it yet, but his hand in yours was the only thing that kept you going through both physical and mental pain

▻ and even when his hand left yours, even once you were out of the hospital, he was the one that kept you going. he would not have allowed that his prodigious s/o gave in to despair and sadness

▻ “when you come to think about it, this was just your way of letting a chance to the others. how nice of you, sweetie” he told you one day as you were walking home from his practice

▻ but he could see that you were not sharing his opinion as you kept walking with your eyes looking down

▻ he immediately stopped and turned around to face you. both his hands were your shoulders and he looked at you dead in the eyes

▻ “i know you’re strong enough to overcome this. and you know i’m never wrong ! sure, it will be long and difficult, but also i know you’re not afraid of that. just think about how ecstatic the crowd will be when you’ll win the selections next year ! you’ll get so much more credit than all these wannabes losers ! so don’t you dare chicken out now, alright, love ?”

▻ after a quick wink, he pulled you in one of the tender hugs that only he had the secret to. and as you let his familiar smell calm your nerves, it appeared that there was still a bit of hope after all

↳ akaashi (rhythmic gymnastics)

▻ akaashi did not understand. he did not want to believe it. ten seconds ago, you were majestically drawing spirals in the air with your ribbon while grabbing your leg from behind your neck ; it was beautiful, you were delivering the best routine he had ever seen. so why ? why did your ankle give up ?

▻ on his team, he was the quickest to make decisions, he was used to thinking fast. but right now ? he had absolutely no idea what to do and he hated to admit it that he didn’t dare to move from the stands for a few minutes

▻ but seeing your cheeks covered in tears as you were being taken out of the competition carpet was an electroshock. he stood up and ran as fast as he could to the corridor in which he last saw you

▻ he did not know the gym at all and had to ask many people before a woman was finally able to tell you where you had been taken. he thanked her about three times

▻ when he entered your team’s locker room, he was surprised and also a bit irritated to see that you had been left alone. but when you told him that it was actually you who had asked to be alone, he second-guessed everything

▻ “i don’t mind it if it’s you” you assured him as you tried to sit up straight

▻ when you winced in pain, he immediately grabbed your sides as gently as he could to help you sit against the wall. his eyes lingered on the ice pack on your ankle for a little while he softly replaced a few hairs behind your ear

▻ when he looked back at your face, you noticed a surprising amount of emotions visibly battling in his eyes. he was usually very good at looking calm and composed, seeing you getting hurt must have really shaken him

▻ after a few seconds spent staring at you, akaashi couldn’t hold on any longer and threw his arms around your shoulders before heaving a sigh of relief. you were taken aback and it took you a few seconds to hug him back

▻ “you scared me a lot. really” he said, his voice muffled against your shoulder. “it just... everything went so fast”

▻ “i scared myself too” you chuckled “but hey, we’re lucky it’s just the ankle. the medic said i’ll be up and about in less than a month”

▻ he broke the hug rather abruptly and sat back on the floor. his cheeks were starting to blush as he cleared his throat, looking away from you :

▻ “you’re right. sorry, i got a bit overwhelmed”

▻ there he was, the akaashi you were used to. you caressed his arm and his eyes finally darted towards you. when he saw you were smiling, he loosened up and a grin started spreading on his face as well

▻ the next monday was your first day of school with your splint and crutches and akaashi was extremely protective of you, especially in the hallways where he feared someone might bump into you

▻ he was also very protective when bokuto was around. he knew his friend was kind of an oaf and you had stopped counting how many times akaashi had to pull him by the collar when he got too close

▻ “he’s like a bull in a china shop, so no, he’s not allowed to come closer than six feet”

#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu #headcanons #hinata #shoyo #tsukishima kei #sugawara #hcs #hq headcanons #oikawa #akaashi #yamaguchi #hq hinata

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soulmate-game · 4 years

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Part 1

After the Discovery, things didn’t change as much as everyone thought they might. “Everyone” being just Marinette, of course.

She got a lecture from Lois about worrying her, and then a joke from the older woman about no longer having another non-hero in the house to team up with.

“Wait, Dad,” Jon spoke up after that comment from his mom, bobbing up and down on his heels. Both him and Clark had long since changed out of their costumes, which didn’t take long considering both of them having super speed. “Does this mean Mari can meet Damian? And is she going to join a hero team—“

“I already have a team, Jon,” Marinette interrupted, soft but firm at the same time. Two months was more than long enough to know that Jon could talk forever if he was allowed to. “Chat Noir, Viperion, Bunnyx, and Ryuuko are all Miraculous users like me,” she had already sat down and explained the bare basics of her abilities and the Paris situation. Lois had known better than to scold her, no matter how gentle the scolding was, before Marinette had a chance to say anything.

Clark blinked, looking between both of his kids. And yes, Marinette was well and truly one of his kids already. He couldn’t hold back a soft chuckle. “She can meet Damian when school starts back up again, Jon. We don’t want to rush anything,” he started out by telling his son. Marinette was still very jittery. Two months was nowhere near enough time to recover from the trauma of watching your parents die, after all.

(In fact, Clark thought, for some people not even a lifetime was long enough. Batman briefly came to mind as an example.)

The girl still had nightmares almost daily, and panic attacks that resulted in brief spans of mutism at least once a week. Those, at least, had severely decreased in frequency, but it was clear that she was far from ready to meet very many new people. Especially people like Damian Wayne, who was hard enough for someone in perfect mental health to handle even on a good day.

“And Marinette,” Clark switched over to his pseudo-daughter. “If you have that many teammates, surely they would understand that you need a break,” when Marinette didn’t meet his eyes, Clark felt dread build up in his stomach. “Marinette, they know about your parents, right?”

The girl fidgeted. Clark closed his eyes.

“Nobody knows my identity,” She admitted after a tense silence. “I know everyone else’s, even though I only found out Chat’s by accident. But they don’t know mine, and I can’t ask them to give me time off anyway.”

“Why not, honey?” Lois asked as gently as she could, picking up on the beginning signs of Marinette closing herself off. Unfortunately, there wasn’t anything any of them could do to stop it. Marinette refused to meet any of their eyes, and even before she spoke her new family knew that they wouldn’t get anything else meaningful out of her about the Paris situation, at least for the day.

“They need me.”

Clark and Jon traded a look. That statement felt a bit too familiar for them. It was something they heard from a lot of heroes who tried to justify overworking themselves. It was something both of them had said before.

But they let the topic rest for the night. Pushing Marinette wouldn’t do any good for anybody.

—*—*—*—*—*

A week passed. Lois and Clark were sitting on the couch watching TV when Lois caught her husband’s eyes darting up to the ceiling. Sighing, she turned the volume down a few notches.

“Did she leave for Paris again?” She asked even though she already knew the answer. Clark nodded grimly.

“Yesterday she didn’t get back in until almost four in the morning,” he admitted, running a hand over his face. “And now, it’s already eleven and she’s just now heading out. I know she doesn’t want me or Jon going to Paris because of Hawkmoth’s magic, but…” he trailed off with his mouth set in a deep frown. Lois could only sigh and lean against his arm comfortingly.

“I know,” she breathed quietly.

“She can’t keep working herself to the bone like this, Lois. Sometimes she’ll head right over to Paris after a nightmare, like she needs to remind herself of something, but she always comes back in less than an hour in that case. But this— when she leaves to fight HawkMoth or patrol Paris before ever going to sleep in the first place— it’s like she’s trying to avoid the nightmares by overworking herself too much to even dream.”

“I know,” Lois rubbed a hand on Clark’s back in gentle circles.

“It reminds me of Batman sometimes,” Clark said, his voice filled with uncharacteristic defeat. “Marinette doesn’t get violent like Bruce, but… never sleeping, throwing herself into heroism, she even refers to Ladybug as if they are different people, Lois. I can’t always help Bruce since he’s a grown adult and more than capable of shutting me out when he wants to, but Marinette is our kid now. I’m just not sure how to help her.”

Lois took a deep breath. “Well, she’s not Bruce so you can’t just bait her into a spar to sort out her feelings,” she mused with faint humor. “But how about we start with sending Jon to Paris the next time you guys hear her leave? The sooner we figure out exactly what the situation and her relationship with her team is like, then maybe the sooner we can find some answers.”

Clark nodded, and looked back up to the ceiling. “I know you heard that, Jon. Don’t get in the way, and come back if Marinette finds you and tells you to. We don’t want her to think we don’t trust her.”

A beat passed, and Clark rolled his eyes fondly.

“Don’t forget to go to bed as soon as she gets back, Jon. I don’t want to deal with two overly exhausted children.”

A thump.

“I’m sixteen!” Jon yelled back, clearly for Lois’s benefit as his mom let out a short burst of laughter.

—*—*—*—*—*

“Ladybug!”

“Look, it’s Ladybug!” “Woo! Go ladybug!” “Could you beat this guy extra fast, Ladybug? I’m late for a meeting!”

People in the streets were shouting in French happily, pointing up at their resident spotted heroine. Some people groused at her in mild or fond annoyance, asking her to beat the Akuma-of-the-day a bit faster for various reasons or jokingly calling her a slow poke. Most people just got pictures or videos on their phones of her as best as they could, watching her swing by in awe and admiration.

It was familiar. Too, too familiar, and Jon made sure to get it all on camera. His parents would want to see this. The pair of contacts he was wearing, a gift from Red Robin, translated everything that was being said for him into helpful little English subtitles.

And there was his sister. Marinette had been tough to pin down, and this was Jon’s third time trying to follow her in Paris. The first time, the day after that late night discussion between his parents, ended in less than five minutes. Marinette caught him and sent him home firmly, which was followed by a heart-to-heart with all four of them when she got home.

She still refused to tell them anything more than the basics about Paris’s situation. For some reason, she seemed extremely reluctant to talk about it. She had no problem comparing experiences and hero jokes with him and his dad, but the moment they tried to talk about Paris-specifics, Marinette clammed up.

It was the second of Jon’s attempts to follow Marinette, just a week after the first, that brought up a possible reason. Because Jon had watched a civilian that he hadn’t been able to get to in time get pinned under a thrown car and killed—only for Ladybug’s powers to reverse all the damage and bring the man back to life.

Jon had raced back home right after that, not even giving Marinette the chance to see him. After relaying what had happened to his parents, they all agreed to one last tail. The pieces were already falling together, and none of them liked the picture they were painting. They wanted to confront Marinette as soon as possible. So here he was, another week later.

Jon kept recording throughout the fight, watching as Marinette clearly led her team. There was no mistaking that all her teammates respected her and treated her word as law. Even Chat Noir, who was Ladybug’s deputy, always referred to Ladybug’s opinion before issuing any orders. Civilians didn’t always flee the scene, taking their time as they tried to record the fight. And when the Akuma was beaten and only Ladybug made a move to catch the corrupted butterfly, the final pieces clicked into place. Jon managed to stay still long enough to catch the crowd of fans running forward, trying to mob Ladybug with pleas for autographs or statements or interviews, before he left. Ladybug’s team had acted as a buffer between her and the crowd anyway, so Jon was able to leave with a clear conscience.

When he walked into his house, already changed back into normal clothes, he waved his phone with a serious look on his face as both his parents waited anxiously.

“Yeah. This is pretty bad,” Jon warned them as he hooked his phone up to his laptop, and played the footage for them.

—*—*—*—*—*

When Marinette got home, it was to a clear intervention. Nervously detransforming, she looked to Tikki and back to her new family. The Kwami, who had previously just been explained away as the source of her powers, gently nudged the girl forward. She knew her holder needed this.

Clark and Lois gently explained why they asked Jon to follow her, explaining that they were all concerned about how badly she was overworking herself.

“You’re getting only three hours of sleep, and that’s on the days that you wake up with nightmares,” Clark’s

voice was quiet, begging her to listen. “Every other day, you teleport to what I can only hope is Paris every time, and you don’t come back for hours. Even if you spend that whole time fighting Akumas, you still only get an hour’s worth of sleep maximum when you get back. Sometimes you don’t even sleep at all until you collapse of exhaustion,” he leaned forward over the table, worry etched in every line on his face. “Marinette, we’re worried. We wanted Jon to see what the situation in Paris was like, because we thought that maybe it would explain why you seem to care about it more than your health. We didn’t know if it was just you needing to keep busy, or something else.”

“And you’re gone during the day too,” Lois added. “And we get that. HawkMoth attacks whenever he feels like, and we all understand if you have to disappear at odd times to fight his Akumas. But this is more than that, isn’t it?”

Marinette’s hands were clenched into fists, and tears were starting to bubble up in her eyes, but she didn’t say anything. Jon slowly approached her, waiting for her small nod before laying one of his larger hands over her fists and gently prying them open before she hurt herself. He kept his hands there, holding hers for both of their comfort.

“I took a video, today,” he admitted gently. “Dad already erased it from the laptop and my phone, don’t worry. But they— we all— needed to see it. The way Paris treats you, Marinette—“

“It’s like how Metropolis used to treat Superman. How they sometimes still do,” Lois interrupted, trying to get Marinette to meet her eyes. “We all thought that Superman showing up was the end of our problems. That as soon as he showed up, the villain or criminal or whatever that was causing us problems was done for. That he could save everyone,” Lois’s eyes grew melancholy. “But we had to learn the hard way that he’s not invincible, no matter how much he might seem like he is. We had to learn the hard way that nobody, no matter how strong or how many powers they have, can save everyone. The kind of trust we had in him before is toxic, Marinette. It’s toxic to us, because we stop being as careful as we should be if we think he’s always going to catch us. And it’s toxic to him, too.”

“How?” Marinette asked, her voice impossibly tiny and her eyes glittering with unshed tears as she darted her eyes between them. “They need someone to believe in. They— I make them feel safe. I— isn’t that good?”

“You feel like it’s your job to be there no matter what, right?” Clark asked, meeting her gaze with a warm, but firm one of his own. “That you have to do whatever it takes to win every battle, no matter what it costs you, because they believe you will. You start feeling like everyone you don’t save is your fault. And that’s not okay,” he stood up and Jon slowly backed away, allowing their father to kneel by Marinette and clasp one of her shoulders. “It always hurts. You might never forget the faces of the people you can’t save, but it isn’t your fault. You told me and Jon that you don’t blame us for what happened to your parents, that it’s stupid to blame the hero for something that wouldn’t have happened if the villain didn’t attack in the first place,” his grip tightened slightly, trying to offer comfort when Marinette tended at the mention of her parents. “If you don’t blame us, even though we were the ones in costume and fighting that day, then you need to stop blaming yourself too.”

The tears finally overflowed, salty water trickling down Marinette’s cheeks and sloppy sobs ripping themselves from her throat even as she threw herself into Clark’s chest. He hugged her tightly, letting her cry.

“B-b-But,” Marinette stuttered in between hiccuping sobs. “My powers reverse damage, m-my powers bring people back,” she sniffed, burying her face deeper into Clark’s chest. “I wanted t-to help. I-I was. S-s-So close to tr-transforming and fighting with y-you, but I didn’t. I d-didn’t, so I c-couldn’t bring them b-back. I should have been tr-transformed, th-that way they would be—“

“Shh,” Clark whispered gently, rocking her in his arms. “It’s not your fault. Metropolis wasn’t your city. You were protecting your identity, and that was the right choice.”

“But—!”

“No, Marinette,” Clark interrupted, holding her just a little tighter as she continued to tremble and sob. “If you had transformed, someone would have figured it out. A French class comes to Metropolis, and one of their students mysteriously disappears at the same time that a French hero shows up in America for the first time? Maybe you could have brought them back, but none of you would have been safe. Our villains, the villains of Metropolis, of the League, they would have suddenly known about you and might have researched Paris. Maybe HawkMoth would have gained a new ally, or maybe a villain would attack you just because you’re a new hero to target,” Clark sighed, rubbing his hand gently over Marinette’s back as her sobs quieted into a few hiccups and sniffles. She was listening. That was a good sign. “So yes, maybe you would have been able to save them that once, but you could also have opened up a new can of worms that you might not have been able to handle. Things could have gotten worse, and Jon and I wouldn’t have even known to help you. You would have continued to shoulder everything on your own, but you don’t have to. You did your best, and your parent’s deaths aren’t your fault. And you have Jon and I now, and your team even if they don’t know who you are. You can rely on us a little. If you keep going on like this, though, you’re going to kill yourself Marinette,” this time his grip tightened for a whole different reason and Clark buried his face in Marinette’s loose hair. Even after only almost three months, the thought of losing her made him breathless. She was his daughter, even if not by blood, and he couldn’t stand the thought of her hurting herself like this.

“Please, Mari,” That was Jon, who had knelt down by their side and joined the hug. “Let us help you. I promise we’re not incompetent heroes.”

Marinette’s laugh was watery, and hysteric. She accepted a tissue from Lois, who was suddenly sitting down only a foot away from the three’s group hug. After a good nose-blow, Marinette took a deep breath.

“Maybe now’s a good time to give them a proper explanation, Marinette,” Tikki said as she floated down to land on her wielder’s head, giving her the best hug she could. Marinette gave another wet chuckle.

“Yeah, I agree,” she took a deep breath. “But it’s a long story.”

“Not a problem,” Lois assured the girl as she forced herself up and stretched her arms out. “I’ll get the extra pillows and blankets. We can relax on the floor and have story time, and then binge watch movies and have a sleepover in the living room. Clark, could you be a dear and move the couch out of the way?”

—*—*—*—*—*

“You have a rule against killing, dear,” Lois whispered groggily from where she was laying against Clark’s side. Marinette was sprawled in between him and Jon, safely in their cuddle-cocoon. Both of their kids were deep asleep. Clark grunted.

“Yeah, but he put so much responsibility on kids, Lo. Kids,” he whispered back, turning his head to try and lessen the chance of waking up Jon. “And he didn’t offer them any support for almost a year, made them figure out the whole hero thing and their powers on their own,” the clearing of a tiny throat made Clark stifle a snort. “With their Kwami,” he whispered, quietly appeasing the eavesdropping Tikki who was laying on Marinette’s chest pretending to sleep. “But a god isn’t exactly a replacement for an actual hero mentor, you know,” he shot at her, making the tiny goddess shrug in acquiescence. “And making her Guardian— he basically threw all his responsibilities onto kids, and ran away. And now Marinette has to heal from all the unrealistic expectations she gave herself. So forgive me if I’m entertaining a few more violent daydreams than usual.”

Lois patted his arm and kissed his cheek. “I’m sure they will be just as violent and gratifying to imagine in the morning. Go to sleep, Smallville.”

—*—*—*—*—*

It was another two and a half weeks before Marinette met Damian Wayne for the first time. She looked from the fellow teenager in a perfectly-pressed uniform and then over to her brother with a raised eyebrow.

“Does he fly in on a helicopter every day?” She asked him incredulously, making Jon grin and nod. She looked back over at Damian, who was clearly annoyed at her for speaking about him when he was right there. “I will never understand rich people.”

Damian scoffed, rolling his eyes. “And I will never understand simpletons. Kent, who is your friend?” He practically spat the last word, making the inner bully-detector in Marinette go off. Her interactions with Chloe and Lila kicked in, and sparked her old habits. Marinette flashed a bright smile, stepping in front of Jon before he could say a word and holding out her hand to Damian. Clark, who was talking to Bruce nearby, out his hand over his mouth to hide a snort. Bruce raised his eyebrows, paying close attention to the interaction now.

“Hi! I’m Marinette Dupain-Cheng. Clark and Lois took me in a few months ago, and they said I’m already family. That means that I’m Jon’s sister now, which means that it’s my job to keep him away from bad influences. My hobbies include annoying bullies and not being a welcome mat. How are you?”

Damian blinked once. Twice, and then took her hand and shook it firmly even as a smirk spread itself over his lips.

“Damian Wayne,” he replied easily. “And I apologize for assuming you were a simpleton. I think we can tolerate each other just fine.”

As Marinette and Damian kept trading sarcastic quips with one another that got steadily less passive-aggressive as time went on (with Jon watching in dismay as somehow Marinette seemed to get along? With Damian? And they were scheming? This couldn’t end well.), Clark and Bruce watched the kids walk into their school building.

A moment of silence stretched, before Bruce finally caved and asked; “Took her in?”

Clark grinned slightly, knowing Bruce never would have been able to resist sating his curiosity over the new girl in his care.

“Lois and I practically adopted her. Technically her paternal grandmother has custody and only gave her to us to take care of while she recovers from her grief in a different country, but that’s only because trying to adopt her without being French citizens would have been almost impossible.”

“Grief?” Bruce’s eyebrows pulled down, and Clark’s smile grew somber.

“Remember the attack in late May, back in Metropolis? The one that actually had the first fatalities in months?” Bruce’s face went slack in realization, followed closely by his eyes snapping to the school’s doors. Clark nodded. “Looks like your penchant for adopting black-haired, blue-eyed orphans is contagious. She was scraping the skin off her hands and giving herself burns trying to dig them out of the rubble. When Jon and I realized that they were both of her parents, I had Lois look into her to make sure she had family to take care of her,” Clark sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “The options were a grandmother who never stops traveling or a great uncle she barely knows who only speaks Mandarin when she doesn’t. So we pulled a few strings, and now she’s a Kent in all but name.”

“I hope Damian can avoid saying the wrong thing for at least a day before I talk to him later,” Bruce said with a sigh as he stuffed his hands in his pockets. “At least she seems to have won his respect pretty quickly.”

Clark laughed. “Oh yeah, she tends to do that. No offense or anything Bruce, but I think it’s a good thing we were the ones that adopted her before you got the chance,” he turned and smiled at his old friend. “You wouldn’t be able to handle Marinette. She’s closer to a Super than a Bat.”

—*—*—*—*—*

@fantasiame @thestressmademedoit @amayakans @resignedcatservant @too0bsessedformyowngood @chocolatecatstheron

Part 3

This. Was. Supposed. To be. Fluffy. Damn it. But oh well, natural story progression calls for more hurt and comfort I guess? Maybe one part left in this story I think.

#marinette joins the kent family #jon kent and marinette #mlb x dc #ml x dc #platonic jonette #daminette #if you squint #pre daminette #Marinette Kent

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puckinghell · 4 years

Text

All Over You | Elias Pettersson

Summary: Elias had his chance with you, and he messed it up. But the idea that you might be over him? That’s more than he can handle. Words: 3.8k Note: I wrote this in a drunken haze of sleep deprived creativity brought on by a country song. Please ignore any errors, I couldn’t be bothered to proofread.

---

Elias’ eyes are following you across the room.

The beer in his hands is still full and lukewarm, by now. He hadn’t really even wanted it, but Brock had pressed it into his hands.

“Get that scowl off your face, bud,” he’d grinned, and then scurried off. Maybe he’d noticed that his typical, happy go lucky Brock demeanor was too much for Elias to deal with tonight.

This bar, the bar that his teammates dragged him to, is the same place you and him used to go all the time. He likes the lowkey vibe, the fact that there rarely seemed to be any hockey fans there - or at least none that would disturb him - and you like the music that gets played there and the fact that they have your favorite cider brand.

You were never much of a beer fan, and Elias watches with heavy eyes as you take a sip of your cider, now, and laugh at something the guy says.

Something ugly curls in the pit of his stomach.

The thing is, Elias knows he has no right to be jealous right now, but as he watches you laugh and talk to this random guy, jealousy is definitely what he’s feeling.

He spotted you the moment he walked in. You were already at the bar, and Elias made sure to stick himself in a corner, not going anywhere near you.

He thinks it worked; it doesn’t seem like you’ve seen him, yet, and he’s planning on keeping it that way.

He lost the right to your attention.

It’s Bo, unsurprisingly, that sits down next to Elias. He puts a glass of coke on the table.

“Go home,” he says softly. There’s a tinge of worry in his voice, and Elias hates it, because he knows he doesn’t deserve to be worried about. But Bo has grown into his captain role beautifully, so Elias should’ve expected him to notice.

“I’m fine here,” he says, but his voice sounds flat. He tries again. “It’s just, you know...”

“Y/N is here,” Bo finishes for him. “And you don’t want her to see you.” Elias supposes he’s easier to read than he thought. That, or Bo knows him better than he thought.

“I don’t want to see her, with him, either.” Elias grits his teeth. It’s not the kind of truth he would normally blurt out like that; normally it’s only Brock and Quinn that he confides in like that.

Brock because he makes everything seem less catastrophic with his everlasting optimism and his easy grin, and Quinn because he usually doesn’t really say anything at all, except maybe “sucks, bro” and sometimes that’s nice to hear, because some things really do suck.

But Bo is here, and Elias is not in the best place, so the words just kinda tumble out.

“It’s funny, how these things happen,” he says. “Joke’s on me, I guess.”

“Nobody is laughing, Petey.” Bo gives him a sympathetic look. “You look like you want to punch something, and it’s scaring Tuna.”

Elias dares to look away from your figure, for one second, to find Jake. Jake is staring back at him with big eyes, but averts his gaze when Elias catches him looking.

He sighs. “I don’t hate her, you know.”

“I didn’t think you did.” Bo’s statement is bland but full of all the things he’s not saying. Elias has a distinct feeling Bo knows exactly what Elias hates.

Hates that he’s basically a stranger to you, now, that he can’t go up to you and wrap his arms around your waist, that he can’t say something to make you laugh. He hates that you’re dancing with him, with that guy, and not with Elias.

He never liked dancing, but he usually let you drag him along anyway, just to see the way your face would light up when he did.

“You could go over there,” Bo tries, carefully. “Say hi.”

I wouldn’t survive the look of disdain in her eyes, is what Elias thinks.

“I don’t wanna make it weird for her,” is what he says.

“Why would it be weird?”

Elias laughs, but it’s bitter, with not even a hint of humor in his eyes. He takes a swig of the coke, then slams it down on the table hard enough that a little bit slushes over the edge. The bubbles pop once they hit the wood.

“Because I might say something I regret.”

“Like?” Bo prompts.

Like I miss you. I’m sorry. I wish I’d never left.

“I’m gonna go home,” Elias says, and he doesn’t wait to see the look of pity on Bo’s face before storming out of the bar and ordering an Uber.

He also doesn’t see you watching him leave.

6 weeks earlier, you’d been sitting on a chair on Elias’ balcony, a blanket over your legs and a glass of wine in your hands.

It was late enough at night that the streets of Vancouver had gone quiet, and Elias’ eyes were half closed as he leaned his head against the wall.

It was peaceful, everything about it. The silence wasn’t uncomfortable; you’d just spent the night with Jake and his girlfriend, so you both needed some quiet.

It wasn’t warm, per se, not this time of year, but you always loved the fresh air and it wasn’t too cold either.

Elias’ cheeks were red from the fresh outside air, and he seemed perfectly content, like that.

It wasn’t the first time you looked at your best friend a different way, but you couldn’t remember it ever being this intense before. Like, you looked at him sometimes and thought; wow, he’s really hot, or, wow, he always makes me laugh, or even wow, I want to kiss him right now.

But up until that night, you’d never thought: wow, I love him.

Strangely enough, the thought didn’t scare you as much as it, in hindsight, definitely should’ve. Maybe because you’d known Elias for almost a year, and you liked to believe you knew him quite well.

There had been moments, you thought, where you could’ve sworn he felt it too. That undeniable, invisible cord between you, pulling you towards each other. The way the air got charged with something, when your eyes met.

It sounded cliche, you knew that, but in some ways you thought you’d always known it would end up like this.

Which is why it was such a shock that it ended the way it did.

You can barely remember, now, how exactly it happened. You think your mind blocked out the memory, somewhere between crying your eyes out into your pillow and crying your eyes out on the phone to your sister. Some kind of protective mechanism, probably.

You remember something, though. You don’t think you’re ever going to be able to forget the look on Elias’ face, when you told him you loved him as more than a friend.

No neurologic protective power big enough in the world to get that memory out of your mind.

He’d looked... Shocked, kinda. Like he’d never thought of you that way. But there had been something else there. Something that hit you way harder, hurt so much more.

Disbelief.

How could you dare to love him.

Not to get you wrong; you know Elias isn’t arrogant. He doesn’t think he’s the Canucks’ savior, he doesn’t belief he’s better than anyone. You’ve not been able to put your finger on why he looked like that, although not for lack of trying - you’ve lost nights and nights of sleep over it, but still, you don’t understand.

He looked shocked, upset, and he looked unhappy.

And that’s something you don’t think you’re ever going to get over.

He left, after that, ran away from the balcony like the devil himself was chasing him, hid in his bedroom, and then you never heard from him again.

No texts, no calls, no house visits. Not even an Instagram DM saying, “hey there, it was fun to be friends until you decided to be a creep, see ya never".

Nothing.

And you’d been too ashamed to reach out, so that meant there had just been silence.

Before this, you never thought silence could be quite this loud.

Elias can’t sleep.

That shouldn’t be surprising, after tonight. His body is still reeled up with adrenaline.

He would never fight the guy you were with, cause he could see that he made you happy, and there’s not a scenario in which he would choose to ruin that for you.

But God, would he have loved to just. Do something. Make him disappear, and preferably, put his own body in that place.

The place of the guy that makes you happy.

Tonight just really drove the point home that you’re over him. Elias had his chance, messed it up, and you moved on. He can’t blame you for that, he just wishes he could do the same.

He doesn’t think he’s ever going to be over you.

The thing is, when you told Elias you loved him, he was mostly just in shock. You’d been one of his closest friends, and he would trust you with his life. He told you everything and he knew you did the same.

He knew he loved making you laugh, he loved being there for you when you needed something, he loved talking to you so much he stayed up all night even after a game, he loved seeing you in his jersey, he loved...

He loved being around you.

He just hadn’t really noticed he had started to love you.

When you said it, he hadn’t known what to say. A thousand words had entered his brain and then left within a split second. None of them seemed to make it to his mouth; not in English, not in Swedish, not in any language.

He remembers the way your face fell, and you turned your gaze to the ground. How you’d looked so uncomfortable, so upset.

He thought the best thing to do would be to leave, until he got himself together enough to speak to you, to make actual words and force them out of his throat.

He hid in his bedroom, paced around in circles for ten minutes; all that time, it was like he was looking through a kaleidoscope of memories, of you and him.

He knew, when he left that room, that he loved you too, and he was planning on telling you that.

But you were gone.

He didn’t know, and doesn’t know, still, whether you left because he reacted like a jerk and didn’t say anything, or because you changed your mind.

He waited, for you to call, or text him. To call him out or to act like nothing ever happened.

You didn’t call.

And he didn’t call, either, figured it wasn’t welcome. Still wasn’t even really sure what to say, maybe. He didn’t call, but every time he didn’t, he almost did, and now he’s sitting on his couch staring at his phone and wondering if that guy that made you smile and laugh in the bar calls you every day.

He feels sick to his stomach, and he didn’t even drink anything.

At 3am at night, Elias really isn’t expecting a knock on his door, but when there is one, he figures it’s Brock, or Jake, maybe even Quinn, who got drunk and got lost.

It wouldn’t be the first time Brock showed up at his door drunk because he was lonely and wanted to cuddle.

At 3am at night - and really any time - Elias would not expect a knock on his door and upon opening it, to be faced with you.

“How dare you,” you snarl, pushing past him without giving him a chance to say anything.

Elias raises an eyebrow; he would ask you what you’re doing here, but that feels too normal; like the type of thing he would ask before you were no longer friends.

“I saw you, you know,” you continue. You’re not yelling, but it’s a close thing; Elias hears the anger in your voice, can’t quite decide whether he’s happy you’re talking to him or unhappy because you’re looking at him the same way one might look at a dead snail.

“Saw me?” he repeats, a little dumbly.

“At the bar, Elias!” You step away from him, throw your hands up in the air. “I fucking saw you at the bar! And if I hadn’t seen you, I would’ve seen all of your other teammates! 10 hockey players don’t walk into a bar unnoticed, you idiot. So what am I supposed to do?”

A silence falls, like you’re actually expecting Elias to answer that.

He would, he would do anything you wanted him to, but he has no idea what you’re wanting to hear.

“What are you doing with what?” he tries, carefully.

You laugh, but it’s clear that you don’t find anything funny. “What am I supposed to do when we see each other in public? Am I ignoring you? Saying hi and moving on? Running away?” You pause. “Or is running away something only you are allowed to do?”

“That’s not fair,” Elias says, a little quietly. It probably is fair, but it still stings. “I left to make it better for you. I didn’t want to ruin your night. Besides,” he adds, and now he sounds a little resentful, “you were all over that guy, and I didn’t wanna watch.”

“All over that guy?” you repeat incredulous. “I wasn’t all over anything, Elias, I’m not even over you!”

The words that Elias was meaning to say die on his lips, and suddenly there’s a distinct ringing sound in his ears, like he just took a puck to the head.

Did you just say...

“All over... me?” he says softly, and something in your demeanor shifts at the quietness of his voice; the tension leaves your body and all your willingness to fight is just gone, sucked out of you like someone switched a light switch.

You sink down onto his couch and put your head in your hands.

“Fuck,” you breathe out. “I didn’t come here to say that.”

I’m not usually this pathetic, is what you mean, but you don’t say that, because the truth is, you usually are this pathetic, at least when it comes to Elias.

“What did you come here for?” Elias asks. The words could sound harsh, but they don’t. It’s only genuine curiosity that you hear in his voice.

Maybe, if you were being honest to yourself, you would even hear something like hope. But you wouldn’t dare believe that.

“I don’t even know,” you tell him, and it’s the truth. “I just, my friend took me to that bar because she said I had to get over you at some point, and that guy was kinda nice and he reminded me of you because he has the same dry humor, and then I saw you and I thought...” You pause. “I thought I was dreaming.”

You feel the couch dip under Elias’ weight as he sits down. He’s not sitting close enough that you can feel him, but somehow you can still feel his presence.

Something settles, within your stomach. Something that hasn’t been settled since that night on his balcony.

“But then you ran away like you couldn’t stand the sight of me, and it hurts, Elias, it hurts to know you feel like that, and suddenly I got so mad and...”

You cut yourself off.

This is not the time, or the place, to put yourself through this, to lay it all out in the open like this. After all, Elias has made it clear he doesn’t want this from you, and you should accept that.

If you want even an ounce of dignity intact, you need to leave now, lick your wounds in peace, and get the fuck over it.

All over it.

You stand up.

“Nevermind,” you tell him. “I’m sorry for coming here.”

But before you can take a step towards the front door, to leave and never come back, Elias’ hand catches your wrist, slender fingers wrapped around you so tightly it nearly hurts.

It doesn’t, really. Not in comparison to how much your soul is hurting.

“Elias,” you say, and you’re pleading, now, “please don’t.”

It’s not a full sentence, but you think it covers the bases: please don’t make me say it, please don’t let me embarrass myself like this, please don’t break my heart again.

Please don’t let me go.

“I’m sorry,” Elias says, and his voice is a little gruff, like it’s hard for him to speak. “I’m so sorry I left. Today, and last time. I know I don’t deserve it, but please... don’t leave.”

You inhale sharply; these are words you hoped, but never expected to hear, and now that you’re hearing them, you don’t really know what to do with them.

“Let me just say some things,” Elias continues, soft and careful, like he’s trying not to spook you. “Just sit, listen to me, and then if you want, you can leave and I’ll never bother you again.”

That’s, like, kinda the opposite of what you want, but you suppose you never really had a chance. Because you look back at Elias and his blue eyes are honest and pleading, so you nod curtly and sit back down on the couch.

You sit on the opposite end to Elias, and his hand falls away from your wrist, ends up on his own knee.

Elias is looking at you intently, his blue eyes bright and focused. Under his gaze, it seems a little harder to breathe.

You don’t know what you’re expecting him to say, but it’s not what comes out of his mouth next.

“You’re my best friend.”

His voice is quiet, but firm.

You frown. “Brock is your best friend.”

Elias smiles a little sadly. He twists the string of his hoodie around his finger, then lets it fall again.

It’s a sure tell that he’s nervous, which really sucks to notice, because you don’t think Elias has ever been nervous around you before.

“Maybe,” he says, “but so are you. In a different way, I think.” He pauses. “I didn’t realize that before. That it’s different with you.”

“Elias, you’re not making a lot of sense right now,” you tell him, confused, and the sigh that escapes his lips is heavy.

“I know,” he says, frustration lacing his voice, “I’m not good at talking. I don’t know... what to say, how to say. That’s why I didn’t say anything, that night.”

He doesn’t have to explain which night he’s talking about.

You feel your cheeks flush at the mention of that night, and avert your gaze to stare at your hands, that are linked together laying limply in your lap.

“Y/N,” Elias says softly, and there’s something vulnerable in his voice, “our friendship is different because yes, you’re one of my best friends, but that isn’t all I feel for you.”

You risk it; you look up at him, and his eyes are big and sad when they lock with yours.

“I didn’t realize it, when you said...” He doesn’t finish his sentence, but he doesn’t have to. You know what he means. “I didn’t realize it until I thought about it and suddenly it all made so much sense, it was all so clear... But then I came out and you were gone and I worried you changed your mind.”

He inhales, then very slowly, oh so carefully, reaches out and puts one hand on yours, his hand warm and soft.

You don’t really know what to say; you think Elias is trying to tell you he has feelings for you too, but after last time, you’re too scared to make any assumptions without him literally spelling it out for you.

There’s something circling in your mind, one thought that means nothing else really matters.

“You left.”

The silence is almost deafening, but you don’t fill it. You can see the wheels turning in Elias’ head, can see the shame on his face.

“I’m really, really sorry,” he says, finally. “I think I freaked out. Like I said, I didn’t really realize what we had... Until I didn’t have you any more.” He sighs again. His fingers have tightened around yours, but you don’t know if he means to do it, or if it’s something subconscious, trying to keep you close to him.

“These past weeks have really sucked,” he continues. “I thought you were over me, and I didn’t know what to do.” He smiles a bit wryly. “Words are not my strong point.”

Your heart is beating in your chest, so loudly you can almost feel it in your ears. You think if Elias is quiet for a while, he might be able to hear it, too.

There’s really no way you could misinterpret this, probably. But you’re not gonna be the one to make the first move.

That didn’t work out so well for you last time.

Instead, you ask; “Show me?”

Something flashes across Elias’ face, something heated and determined, and then suddenly he’s close enough that you can feel his body heat radiating off him.

His lips are soft at first, almost hesitant, but when he notices you’re not pulling away, Elias’ kisses you more intently, swipes his tongue across your bottom lip and moves his hands to your hips, tugging softly.

You let him pull you against him. You don’t think you really ever had a chance to say no.

The kiss makes you dizzy, but there’s still a voice nagging at you, somewhere in the back of your brain. And when Elias pulls back from you long enough to breathe, the thought somehow makes its way out of your mouth.

“Please don’t do this if you’re gonna run away again.” Your intake of breath is a little shaky. “I’m never going to get over you after this.”

Elias laughs, and for the first time, it’s a genuine laugh, one that lights up something inside of you.

“I don’t want you to get over me,” he mumbles against your lips. “I was an idiot for giving you the chance to do that once. I won’t make the same mistake twice.”

His hands move to your back, caressing the skin there.

“I love you,” he says, easily as ever. “I love you, and I’m never going to run away anywhere except if it’s after you.”

You don’t think you could smile any wider if you tried.

“I love you, too,” you say. The words feel a bit foreign on your lips, after six weeks of telling yourself to not think them.

“Thank God,” Elias breathes, and then he’s kissing you again, and his hands seem to be everywhere at once, touching your skin and your face and your hair.

His hands are all over you, and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

#elias pettersson #vancouver canucks #nhl fic #nhl imagine #nhl one shot #elias pettersson imagine

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chicgeekgirl89 · 4 years

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Mercy is Out of Your Reach: Chap. 2

Fandom: SEAL Team

Characters: Sonny Quinn, Clay Spenser, Jason Hayes, Lisa Davis, and the rest of the team

Read Chapter 1 Here

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

“I want to know where they are now,” Jason demanded, hands on his hips as he paced the room in agitation.

“We lost ISR because the drone hit a bird,” Davis said, fingers flying over her keyboard. “I’m contacting our allies to see if anybody eyes in the sky that we can take a look at.”

“Well do it faster,” Jason snapped.

“Jay.” Ray was leaning against the wall, calm as ever and it just pissed Jason off more.

“Don’t!” he said, holding up a hand in warning. “They were right there and we didn’t get to them in time and now they’re gone.”

“We’re all doing everything we can,” Ray said. “It doesn’t help anything to go flying off the handle.”

“Well it makes me feel better.” He ran a hand over his face. “I want to know why they were taken.”

“Might not be connected to the op,” Blackburn said. “Maybe they saw two Americans and thought it would be a good ransom grab.”

Jason fixed him with a look. “You really believe that?”

“I’m just trying to cover all our bases Jason.”

Things had gone to hell so unbelievably fast. One second they were listening in on a conversation, the next there had been screaming and banging and by the time Jason, Trent, and Brock had gotten into the café it had been emptied out. Clay and Sonny’s comms had both gone offline immediately and Sonny’s button cam shorted out shortly thereafter. They’d circled the whole town for nearly two hours, searching for any sign of their brothers before Blackburn had called them back to base.

It felt like they’d abandoned Clay and Sonny and it was eating at Jason’s gut. You didn’t leave your brothers behind. Not for anything. “You all should take a break,” Blackburn said.

God damn the man and his indefatigable calm in times like these. All Jason wanted to do was rip a room apart, while guys like Blackburn and Ray could just stand around like it was any other day; like having teammates in mortal danger was no big deal. “No. We’re not leaving until we find them,” he said.

“Nobody’s putting you on a plane home Jason. You all need a break,” Mandy said. “Go. We’ll call you when we find something.”

Not if; when. Leave it to Mandy to be so sure. But Jason knew that finding them was only half the battle. For all they knew their boys were already dead. And every moment they stayed missing would only make that more likely.

“C’mon Jay,” Ray said as the other guys moved slowly out of the room.

The team settled at a table in the makeshift mess, everybody eating out of duty rather than actual hunger. “You gotta eat Jason,” Trent said quietly as Jason stared moodily at his dinner.

“Yeah well they’re probably not eating.” Jason’s leg was jumping under the table and he ran a hand up and down his thigh, anxiety crawling inside him. There were two of them, they could support each other. Unless they weren’t together. And either way, with Sonny sick…

“Which is all the more reason you should,” Ray said. “Need to be on top of our game if we’re going to get them back.”

They were right so he swallowed something down, but his mind was still in overdrive. “Let’s go over it again.”

“We’ve been over it Jason, nothing’s going to change,” Full Metal said.

“We’re going over it again,” Jason ground out.

They all shot looks at one another but nobody protested further so he pushed ahead. “Ray and Full Metal were on overwatch. What did you see?”

Ray sighed. “Everything was going according to plan. We went high, rooftop across the street. View of the front of the café. I got on the scope, Metal was there with back up.”

“Clay and Sonny entered the café. Thirty-two minutes later some of Farhad’s guys entered. At forty-three minutes there was a bang and we saw smoke coming out of the front of the café,” Metal continued. “Nobody came out the front but civilians. The targets did not reappear and neither did Clay or Sonny.”

“And we were down the block in the van,” Brock said. “Eyes on the back door the whole time. Nobody came out there either.”

“Then how the hell did they get out of there?” Jason asked. “If they’d been taken on foot we would’ve caught up with them. Why didn’t we see them get thrown in a truck or a van?”

“Could have been an alley door,” Trent said. “Space between the buildings is so narrow, Davis said they couldn’t get a good look on ISR.”

“You’re telling me they took out two Tier One operators and managed to drag them down an alley?”

“They weren’t heavily armed,” Brock said. “Sonny was off his game. If they surprised them and there were enough guys…”

Jason worked his jaw. “We need another look at that café.”

He stood, intent on heading out immediately but Blackburn appeared as if he sensed his team leader about to fly off the handle. “Not tonight you’re not. Nobody outside the wire.”

“They don’t have—“

“Time. I realize that,” Eric said. “But you can’t go back in the dead of the night and start snooping around. If anybody sees you they could tip off the captors and then we’ll never find them. Not to mention it could compromise the op we came here for in the first place. Let us work the problem overnight and you can head back out in the morning.” He looked at the rest of the team. “Get some sleep. All of you. You’re going to need it.”

Jason felt the team watching him, waiting for the okay. He gave a short nod. “Go.”

His eyes stayed on Blackburn. “I want an answer Eric.”

“We all do,” Blackburn assured him. “Get some sleep. If we find anything I’ll come get you myself.”

Jason took his time heading back to their temporary bunk room, unable to stop his mind from turning over and over. All of this for some chatter that might not even be anything. They’d come here to find out when Farhad Mahmoudi was planning to arrive and who else might be meeting with him. Instead they’d ended up down two brothers.

The tightness in his chest was creeping back in and he took a few deep breaths trying to keep it at bay. He couldn’t lose it. Not now. Not with Sonny and Clay’s lives on the line.

Everyone was up before sunrise and when Blackburn saw them coming through the door he didn’t seem surprised. Davis and Mandy were both still there, Mandy looking at a map of the area while Davis had her ear glued to the phone.

“Anything?” Jason asked.

“We would have gotten you if there was,” Blackburn said.

Judging from the many empty coffee cups littering the table none of the support staff had slept. Jason felt a rush of gratitude toward them and also a smidge of guilt. Yes, Bravo needed sleep to be ready for a rescue op, but it stung to leave the work up to the rest of the group.

Davis hung up the phone, defeat all over her face. “I’ve called everyone I can think of. No one else had eyes on this area during the time Clay and Sonny were taken. France has a team in country, they said they’ll help if we need a rescue op, and everyone has promised to let us know if they hear chatter, but we have no additional visuals.”

It was clear from the silence of the group that they were disheartened. Hours of work and they were no closer to finding their brothers. Jason looked to Eric. “We good to go take another look?”

“I’ll authorize it,” Blackburn said. “But I don’t need to remind you to keep things quiet.”

“It’ll be like we’re not even there,” Jason told him, already halfway to the door.

They all piled into a trucks, choosing to leave Cerberus behind rather than attract attention with a domesticated dog on a leash. “Ray and Brock are going into the café,” Jason said as they drove. “Metal, Trent and I will scout the outside. Be on the alert. They took our boys once, let’s not give them anybody else.”

Ray met his eyes. “We’re going to find something.”

Jason nodded. They had to. There was no other choice.

Ray and Brock headed inside cafe while Trent, Metal, and Jason began casually scanning the street. Jason immediately walked to the back of the café and then around the side. Sure enough there was an alley. It was narrow, but just big enough for a man to walk through. Further inspection in the dirt showed him drag marks, making his chest feel tight all over again.

“Jase!”

He looked up to find Metal and Trent beckoning him further down the alley. “There’s a door here,” Metal said, nodding toward it.

“The drag marks go right up to it,” Trent said. “If they took them into this building and came out further down the block or around the corner, could explain why we didn’t see anything.”

Jason nodded. “Let’s take a walk.”

They left the alley and continued their walk up the street. Crisscrossing tire tracks covered the road making it impossible to tell which might have belonged to a vehicle carrying two Navy SEALs. He was just about to suggest they move on when a shop on the other side of the street caught his eye. “Hey,” he nodded toward it.

“That a camera?” Metal asked.

“Looks like.” Jason thought for a moment. “Let’s get Ray and Brock over here.”

It didn’t take long for Bravo Two and Bravo Five to rejoin them. “Anything?” Jason asked.

“Lot of the same faces we saw yesterday,” Ray said. “Definitely a spot for locals. D’you find something?”

“There’s a shop across the street that looks like it might have a camera,” Trent said. “If we could get a look at that footage…”

One hastily constructed plan later, Ray and Brock wandered into the store, making sure to go as far from the door as possible before Brock “accidentally” smashed something very expensive looking. Jason snuck in the front door and slipped behind the counter unnoticed as the owner went back to yell at the two tourists who were destroying his merchandise. He felt a wave of relief when he immediately found the connections for the camera and an even more relief when it turned out to be an extremely old model with a tape. Hopefully the owner wouldn’t notice it was missing for a while. He pulled it and hustled back the truck, waiting anxiously for Ray and Brock to settle up and head on back.

“Did you get it?” Brock asked when he and Ray slid into the back.

Jason nodded as Metal floored it and took them back to base.

God bless Davis who had somehow managed to procure an appropriate player for the tape by the time they returned. “What did you have to do to get this so fast?” Ray asked as she inserted the tape.

She smiled. “A magician never reveals her secrets.”

“Listen, it’s going to take time for us to go through this,” Mandy said. “And it doesn’t help to have you breathing down our necks. Go take a break. We’ll get back to you.”

“We’re not leaving,” Jason said. Why did everyone keep trying to kick them out of this?

“Mandy’s right,” Lisa said. “Having all of ya’ll standing around watching isn’t going to help. Get outta here.” She locked eyes with Jason. “You’ll be my first call.”

He nodded. He didn’t like it. But he trusted Lisa and Mandy. If anybody was going to find their boys, it would be them.

#SEAL Team #Mercy is Out of Your Reach #Chapter 2 #Sonny Quinn #Clay Spenser #Jason Hayes #Lisa Davis #Savis #Whump #Clay Spenser Whump #Sonny Quinn Whump

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goodnessmarygrace · 4 years

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Hi, my name is Mary Grace and I’m new to Tumblr. I made this blog because nobody I know has Tumblr, so it feels like I can be more open about my struggles without drawing attention to myself. Anyways, here goes nothing. This is my story thus far. It’s a long one, so buckle up!

I was diagnosed with POTS last month after two increasingly difficult and perplexing years. You could think of me as being sorta athletic and very ambitious normally if you like. I’m a perfectionist and I have anxiety. I began really feeling and noticing the POTS symptoms about two years ago. For a year, I just always assumed I was out of shape or everybody felt the same way and I was just being a wimp. I was super tired all the time and would get very dizzy with standing up and running. I would get spotty vision and feel the familiar “hot ice” feeling you get when you might faint. These symptoms were not incredibly severe or anything, so I just always hid them so that people wouldn’t label me as “dramatic” or “lazy.” I played basketball, softball, ran track, did marching band, football cheer-leading, scholar bowl, FCA, and FCCLA at the time of the onset of symptoms. I always assumed that I was just stressed out or had a really bad cold and it was nothing to give a second thought about. If anything, hiding my symptoms made me feel like I was in control or tough.

Another thing you must know about me to understand my story is I am a Christian and Jesus plays a big part in my life each and every day. Come summer 2019, I was a helper/counselor at the 5th and 6th grade week at the local Church Camp. That’s when some things really clicked for me spiritually. I realized that my life had been fairly easy. I have a loving family, live in an awesome community, have been blessed with friends and talents all my life, and for the most part, I’d been healthy and hadn’t had to deal with many terrible things. Most of all, I’m free to live for and worship my LORD and Savior.

It’s a life that many crave and would give anything to have. But that week at Church Camp initiated a thought process in me. I realized I had never really depended on GOD because everything in my life had seemed so... easy I guess. I was incredibly thankful for my life, but there came a time when I realized that I didn’t really live by faith or trust or hope. I didn’t completely even understand what they mean! How can you live for GOD without knowing what it is like to completely trust Him with every aspect of your life? My life story was (yes, comfortable and safe) but also a bit empty. It was shallow where it could be deep. And after lots of prayer and some soul searching, I realized my story was shallow because I had hardly ever struggled. So then I began praying dangerously. I asked (or begged) GOD to break me if He had to.

And oh my, He sure answered that one. The symptoms got worse, but I didn’t think much of them considering I had quit (or retired (; ) from softball. (There’s a whole separate story to why I quit softball that I just can’t possibly fit in this post. It was a big developmental step in my life and something that I still am learning from.) I assumed I was just getting out of shape and I should exercise and live healthier. More water, more sleep, better food, etc. Running was getting harder and harder. I was always exhausted, which I blamed on stress and lack of good sleep. Basketball season is what really did it in for me. The first real “attack” or “episode” happened during conditioning week. I almost fainted. I got a migraine and was so dizzy that I couldn’t walk straight. My vision was seriously messed up and that “hot ice” feeling you get before passing out kept washing over me. (I had passed out/ almost passed out before this but always blamed it on being squeamish or something else unconcerning.) I eventually sucked up my pride and told my coach, “I gotta lie down!” It was humiliating. I used to be able to run like nobody’s business. I mean, some people were jealous of my exercising capabilities. It seemed like my fault since I had quit softball and seemingly was so out of shape that I almost passed out. I felt like a quitter. There was so much shame and guilt. I must have forgotten it was actually an answer to my prayers.

The season progressed and I repeatedly had to lie down when it came to conditioning and running. It didn’t help that I got mono for the second time in my life that winter (no, not from kissing) and was so stubborn that I refused to stay home or go to the doctor. I had mono, pharyngitis, and a double ear infection for months, but I didn’t want to rest because I thought people would think I was lazy. We began trying to figure out why I would get the POTS symptoms as well, because my mom started to think that something really was going on. In the end, we decided to blame it on blood sugar. I told people I was hypoglycemia. I brought juice to basketball practice, and when I would drink it, I would trick myself into thinking that I felt better because I was sick of having no idea what was going on.

Finally, when basketball season was wrapping up and track season was beginning, I began believing that maybe I wasn’t “just out of shape.” I had been running and exercising for months, but I still had my POTS symptoms. I was praying and trying really really hard to get past the shame and be grateful for my struggles. The thing is, I LOVE track (and was pretty good at it too.) Running and racing has always been, dare I say, fun for me. I was really looking forward to the first practice of the season. My dreams were crushed to say the least. After running the first 400 meters of a mile, I nearly fainted again. I finished the mile, but was not doing so hot. I remember all my teammates and coaches staring at me with worry and surprise. I was so embarrassed. The headache from it didn’t go away until I went to bed that night. What made things worse, was I still didn’t know what was wrong with me. Doctors said “blood sugar?”, “asthma?”, “hormones?”, “anxiety?”, “arrhythmia?”, “stress?”. When people asked, I didn’t have a definite answer, so just I listed all of my symptoms and the possible diagnoses. I got tired of that real quick.

Now that my track season was in jeopardy, I decided that we really needed to figure out what was happening to me. My mom said to take it easy at practice, but I didn’t want to look “lazy.” (You can tell that my mind runs in a useless circle around the concepts of weak and lazy.) I told my coaches that I needed to take it easy, but then just continued to go hard as I could. I mentally could not get past the mindset I had adopted. I didn’t want anyone to think I wasn’t trying and I was making things up, so without really noticing it, I told myself that it was in fact all in my head and I was weak. Then came the pandemic.

This is becoming way too long, so I’m going to continue it in a part 2. It sounds crazy, but I’m actually pretty thankful for the mess I’ve been through. More explanation later, but I know there is some growth happening in me that never would have begun if I hadn’t gotten these struggles. GOD has shown me so much through these experiences and He’s made room in my busy schedule for the things that actually matter in life. I don’t chase people’s opinions or expectations so much anymore and have learned to be kinder to myself. Again, this blog is kind of going to be like a way to figure some things out and hopefully become part of the community of people who’ve gone or are going through similar experiences. Maybe then I’ll even be able to help someone else in return.

-Mary Grace

June 4, 2020

#potsie #postural orthostatic tachycardia syndrome #my story #jesus is the answer #christianity #a written testimony #break me #savedbygrace #POTS

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rivaltierno · 4 years

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Power Failure [Chapter 1]

A mishap during a fight with Katarou results in the team getting their powers swapped. Now, in an attempt to get their proper powers back, they have to get Katarou to cooperate with them, all while dealing with new abilities they don’t know how to use - and two teammates currently out of commission due to that. A retelling of Teen Titans Go! Issue #24 with Honorary Titans.

Written for Honorary Titan Fan Week 2020, Day 4: “With the Honoraries”

Word Count: 1,560

It didn’t seem like that serious of a fight. Katarou came up to the newly-formed team after a press conference and demanded they fight him. None of them had heard of him, but Titans East had told them stories of civilians not trusting them to be “real Titans” at first and wanting to see “proof” of their skills, so the team agreed that must be what the man wanted.

With the rest of their team ushering away any remaining civilians, Herald held out a hand towards Katarou. “What kind of fight are you hopin’ for?”

Katarou clutched onto their hand, not even shaking it. “Three turns. You may strike first.”

Herald pulled away, unnerved by his actions. They briefly considered turning down his offer, but decided against it. They had a feeling he would fight him anyway, or worse, take his rage out on another civilian. “Right.”

Fortunately enough, the press conference had taken place at the local park, so they had enough empty space to battle in. It even gave the rest of the team a place to sit down and watch the fun.

“Make your move, Titan!” Kataoru taunted, opposite of the group. “I’m waiting.”

As much as they wanted to, Herald knew they couldn't just kick him in the face and be done with it - superheroes don’t beat up civilians. So they decided to just knock him off his feet instead.

They darted forward, and then dropped down and swung their legs towards Kataoru’s ankles.

Kataoru jumped over their attack, and grinned as he watched them go immediately into another spin to try again. Too easy. His reflexes were faster, and with just one hand, he grabbed their ankle to stop them in their tracks.

Before Herald could fully realize what was happening, they had been hoisted into the air upright, like a twisted cheerleading routine. Unable to break free from Kataoru’s grip, they instead focused their energy on staying balanced as possible, knowing that something would break if their body went one way and their leg the other.

Kataoru kept grinning. “My turn.” He clamped his other hand on Herald’s ankle and began spinning them around. It was much smaller circle than Herald had been in earlier, just to increase the likelihood of giving them whiplash.

Their teammates decided to get involved at that point. While the other four stayed behind to come up with a plan, Gnarrk dashed towards the fight, planning to free Herald from Kataoru’s grasp.

Unfortunately for him, Kataoru was faster. He flung Herald towards him, and laughed when Gnarrk, clearly not prepared to catch them, was unable to bear the momentum and was also flung back a few feet.

This caused Kole to abandon the group discussion and rush over to see if the two of them were hurt. She was relieved to see that Gnarrk barely had any scratches, and Herald could sit up with minimal dizziness. She still had to help them fully get up, though.

“Clearly a direct attack isn’t going to work,” Jinx hissed, internally berating herself for not taking the fight more seriously in the first place. “But-”

“I’m waiting for your next move!” Kataoru began taunting again. “Unless you want to admit defeat.” “But,” she started again, “I wonder if he can hit someone that isn't directly in front of him. I’m going to attack from behind while you two distract him. Just, don’t run up and punch him.” With that, Jinx went off, not sticking around to see if either of her remaining teammates had disagreements.

Jericho did have disagreements, however, for je had the same plan as Jinx. Je wasn’t going to stick around and be a distraction, but did sign jems plan to Hot Spot before also running off, albeit in the opposite direction. “I’m sneaking up on him. Good luck.”

This left Hot Spot to be the one to distract Kataoru. He grumbled slightly, but still marched forward to the man. He supposed he should have expected this to happen, given that he and Jinx were the only ones on the team that didn’t need to be up-close-and-personal to fight.

“Your teammates ran like cowards,” Kataoru sneered. “You think you alone can defeat me?”

“Depends if you have other tricks up your sleeve,” Hot Spot replied. “You’ll find that you can’t throw me around.” He began to form a small fireball - easier to aim than full fire blasts, and could be dragged out for however long it took his teammates to enact their plans. He hoped it would be soon, whoever it was.

Kataoru wasn’t a patient man, and did not appreicate Hot Spot taking his time to take his turn. “If you insist on standing there, then I will take my turn first. Be prepared.” He jumped into the air and landed back down in the same spot, the ground shaking on impact. Part of it cracked underneath him, and he placed a foot on one particular crack.

Hot Spot stumbled slightly, but easily balanced himself again, the fire ball he was creating not affected in the slightest. Out of the side of his eye, he could see Jinx nearby, ready to strike. A smug look spread across his face. “Is that all you got?”

“Nope.” Kataoru stomped down on the crack, and a large chunk of earth flew upwards, accompanied by a shriek.

Jinx’s hexes went flying as she was thrown into the air. The first few crashed in front of her, so when she landed back on the ground, she fell into a dust ball. She coughed and began trying to get dirt out of her eyes.

The rest of her hexes hit Hot Spot. The magic made him recoil back, his fire ball flying out to the side.

Jericho had snuck up on the fight just in time to narrowly avoid a fire ball scorching jem. Je twirled on jems heels, only to bump into Kataoru while doing so. In the first lucky moment of the fight, it seemed that he was content to just laugh at jem, giving jem the opportunity to keeping going past him towards Jinx.

“Friendly fire,” Kataoru continued laughing. “A waste of a turn.” He then turned and ran towards one of the hills in the park. He wanted to see all six of his opponents at once for is next move, and being above them would do the trick.

“Hey!” Hot Spot shouted, running after him. “Get back here!” It didn’t take long for him to catch up, but it did bother him that he now had to look up to see the man. “Hiding up there, huh? Who’s the coward now, Kataoru?”

Kataoru didn’t respond verbally, and instead simply pulled out the necklace from under his shirt. He held it up so it gleamed in the sunlight, in hopes of showing off just how powerful of a tool it was. And lucky for him, he was showing it to the one Titan on the team who actually knew what it was.

Hot Spot instinctively took a step back from it. “How did you...?”

“How did he what?” Jinx asked as she and Jericho came up behind him.

“That necklace,” he responded, more concerned with warning his teammates than replying, “It can trap people inside of it and steal their powers. That must be why-”

“I’m so powerful?” Kataoru finished, his menacing grin returning to his face. “And with all of your powers, I’ll be even stronger. I was hoping you all would be more impressive, but power is power. Now if the rest of your little group would arrive...”

“Hold on, Kataoru!” Kole shouted, she and Herald finally rejoining the team. Gnarrk was not with them. “We still have our final turn!”

With that statement, Herald opened up a portal above Kataoru’s head. And then nothing else happened.

The rest of the team first eyed the empty portal, then nervously looked over at Herald and Kole, wondering what they had been planning this entire time.

Kataoru, for his part, again laughed at them. “Now that your little performance is over, I’ll take my final turn.” He lifted the necklace even higher into the air, and his lips began to move.

Nobody could hear what he was saying, because it was drowned out by Gnarrk dropping out of the portal, screaming the whole way down.

Gnarrk grabbed onto Kataoru and pulled him down the hill, away from the rest of the Titans, not realizing that the necklace slipped out of his hand. However, he did realize that the man was significantly weaker once he hit the ground, easily crumpling under Gnarrk’s metahuman strength.

“My necklace...!” Kataoru choked out. There was no way he could win a fight, now. But that wasn’t his only plan. “You’ll want to check on your friends, caveman.” His sneer was less prominent with a hand pressing on his chest, but it was still there. “Who knows what happened to them since you interrupted my chant?”

Gnarrk snarled and swiftly punched him across the face, knocking him out. He watched him for a second to make sure he didn't move, then looked over to the hill separating him and the rest of his team. Anxiety washed over him as he started climbing it, not knowing what he was going to see on the other side.

#honorarytitanfanweek2020 #Teen Titans #mod's fics

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brieflygorgeouss · 6 years

Text

as if it’s your last

Neil is five years older than he ever thought he’d be.

Nothing prompts this, really. It’s just realization. He’s in bed, heavy-limbed and tired but still aware of Andrew’s frame inches away from him, weight dipping the mattress, and he’s watching the shadows shift in the square of the window and the thought just comes. It sinks in fast and then stays beneath the surface like a stone thrown into water, a weird feeling that he’s not sure how he should approach. It curls and twists in his mind like smoke.

Neil doesn’t think about his mother, or father, or anyone, really. Everything he thinks is that five years is a long time. Everything he thinks is that he never thought he’d get so much of it.

And yet. There he is.

Neil shifts on the bed, then shifts his gaze from the window, shifts his thoughts, from this to nothing, then back, because here’s one of the things he’s learned during those five years of extended stay: there is no need to count the escape routes from buildings anymore. He falls asleep with his back to the door every night now, lets other people get close, lets himself get lulled into the sense of security that sometimes tastes bitter and like a lie, but sometimes doesn’t.

That’s not something Neil thinks he’ll ever really get used to.

———

There are two minutes of the game left on the clock, and they’re winning. The crowd is a bustling thing around them, moving in tandem like waves of the sea, and Neil breathes through his exhaustion and looks at the fluorescent lights high up by the ceiling and his blood screams at him, run, so he does, counts his steps, throws the ball. The goal lights up red.

Neil feels completely, utterly alive.

———

Here is the thing — his name is Neil Abram Josten, he is five years older than he’d ever thought he would be, and he is scared. Not of knives or the sound of gunfire, not anymore, and not of the truth, but of this — back when his name was Alex, he did not like tea, and Neil Josten prefers coffee as well. Chris’ favorite fruit was strawberries and Neil thinks about it whenever he sees Andrew get into another pint of strawberry ice cream. Nathaniel could load a gun as quickly as he could throw a knife and Neil still remembers the motions in his own muscles.

His mother used to take him to shitty diners near highways where no one would pay attention to the two of them, get them rooms in shitty motels, and she used to grip his hand so hard he was sure she wanted it to hurt, and she used to say, never let them know who you are. Always be someone else, anyone else. The moment they know you, you’re dead.

If you mix enough colors together, you will get nothing at all and everything at once. That’s Neil.

———

Neil never asks Andrew what it is that keeps him close, here, by Neil’s side five years down the road. He doesn’t think he would get an answer to the question — or not an easy one anyway. It is both equally ridiculous as it is extraordinary that Andrew Minyard decided to settle down with the mess of a person that is Neil Josten.

Neil likes to think that he knows what Andrew’s reason is.

Because Andrew makes Neil coffee on early mornings and texts him after the games, and tells him to breathe in the hazy moments after nightmares and kisses him outside their apartment building like he wants to prove something and pins his hips to the bed with heavy hands and with purpose, and Neil likes to think that Andrew’s reason is the same as his own.

They don’t need confessions.

———

Here’s another thing Neil’s learned during those five years — to try and wear his scars like trophies. He looks in the mirror and thinks about knives and cold days and unbearable heat, and then he thinks about Andrew tracing the scars with careful fingers and unwavering attention, and he does not shiver like he used to. Those are his reminders of pain, tokens of the battles he fought and lost, of the battles he fought and won in the end. People call him reckless, the press calls him the fastest player on the court, and a danger, an invincible boy, let’s see when he realizes he’s wrong.

Neil doesn’t say he knew that from the start.

———

Neil wakes up at 5:30 every morning, slips out of bed, goes for a run. Even if he is every color at once mixed together, or nothing at all — patchwork body, Andrew says occasionally — this is the one thing that has always been there. Running. Getting away. Neil clings onto it.

Andrew is usually still asleep, but today, when Neil walks out of the bathroom ready to head out the door into the cold morning outside, he finds Andrew already looking, blond hair messy and eyes just on the side of unfocused.

Neil leans over the bed, leans down, presses a kiss to the corner of Andrew’s mouth before muttering, ”Go back to sleep.”

Andrew blinks at him, then lifts one hand and curls his palm around the side of Neil’s neck, fingers pressing against his pressure point, briefly, and then the touch is gone and so is Andrew’s hazy attention when he closes his eyes. A good morning.

Here’s the difference between them, one of many — Neil treats time like it’s golden. Andrew lets the days slip through his fingers, sleeps late, treats the importance of it like it’s not there at all, because it’s really not there, for him. For Neil, time is something he had to earn, one way or another, something he scraped for until his hands bled and muscles were shaking with effort, something he stole from others like he did with so many different things. A week he begged off. An hour he pickpocketed like change at train stations.

There used to be a time when he had his own death planned out. Marked in the non-existent calendar in the back of his mind, circled like other people might circle anniversaries or birthdays, in screaming color that no one else but Neil would ever know about.

That’s why — Neil will take all the time he can get, and use it.

———

The first time Neil goes to a therapy session in a flimsy thing, ill-fitting and uncomfortable. His coach had been suggesting it for a while, and two of his new teammates. Andrew, occasionally. It’s not like it matters, but Neil finally agrees after a particularly bad night when he wakes up shaking and then Andrew has to talk him through it in an emotionless voice as they sit on the cold bathroom floor, and it still takes Neil another two hours to pull himself together enough to go back to bed.

Andrew kisses him before Neil gets out of the car.

It helps.

———

Neil doesn’t think he’s all that stupid. Andrew might call him an idiot, but that serves a different purpose and they both know that. Neil can speak four languages and mimic twice as many accents. The deal he signed right after college with his first professional Exy team rests safely in one of the folders on the shelf in his bedroom. He knows his way around a gun, and around a knife, too. He can treat almost any wound.

That’s who he is. That’s what he feels like, sometimes — a sum of random factors, things he made up or learned because he was forced to. His mother said always be someone else and that’s what he did.

He first says that to Andrew as they’re sitting on their living room windowsill, smoking. Neil looks at the smoke curling in the air as he talks. When he’s finished, Andrew takes what’s left of the cigarette from him and puts it out. His touch on Neil’s fingers lingers just a second longer than necessary.

”You got it wrong,” Andrew says, taking another cigarette out from the package but not lighting it, just looking. He shifts his gaze to Neil’s eyes after a second. ”You are not all of them at once. It’s the other way around.”

———

Neil is five years older than he ever thought he would be and here’s the thing — it doesn’t feel wrong. Whether it is stolen time or extended stay or a golden gift he had to earn himself, it hardly matters, because he’s still here. He doesn’t make backup plans anymore. Puts the razor to his throat while shaving and doesn’t flinch. Locks the door at the end of the day and checks twice, but then leaves it be. Surprise visits from Dan and Matt are fine, now.

People say this is called healing. Neil likes to think of it as living.

The light of the afternoon reflects in Andrew’s hair, then in his eyes as he turns and catches Neil looking. They do that a lot — watching each other even though they know nobody isn’t going anywhere, not really.

Neil smiles.

”What’s so funny,” Andrew asks at that, a flat question that barely sounds like one at all, and he doesn’t protest when Neil tips his head forward and cautiously rests it on Andrew’s shoulder. Andrew’s frame is loose and relaxed, still. They are past asking for permission with words, at this point. Five years down the road, where Neil never thought they would be, they are past many things.

”Nothing,” Neil says, letting his smile widen a fraction. ”I’m just happy.”

It feels good.

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lunaraen · 6 years

Note

may I request this? >:) like a were-ocelot River happening in s1 or s2? Sort of the "run away before I hurt you" prompt? I'm fine with either season :>

There are benefits to staying quiet, to always being one of thesilent ones.

It helps that being frightened only makes Mo want to shrink inmore on themselves, hide under their hat and wait for the monsters todisappear. They’re safe here, underground and blocked off from the agitatedlivestock, and it’s easier to be outwardly calm while the others calm down andfind their place in the basement.

That doesn’t mean Mo isn’t still unsettled, and while Kate seemscontent to let them hide for the night while the monstrous animals roamabove, it almost seems too convenient.

Granted, given what they’ve all been through already thanks toher, Kate might just be happy to let them rest until blowing up this shelter assoon as it’s light out.

It’s more comfortable, at least, right now. It’s more like home,dark and quiet, and there’s something inherently relaxing about knowing there’sno way for any monsters to get at them in here. It makes it easier to smile,especially after making sure that Slugger and the others are okay. They canbusy themselves by checking the bookshelves, filled with books so old and fadedthey aren’t legible, and the chest, carrying nothing with the wood on thebottom rotting, and by knowing that they’re safe.

(But one of the benefits to silence, comfortable or not, ishaving the time to just focus on other people.

And notice when things are weird.

Even when the sun was setting, before the animals decided toturn on them and attack, they might have had stuff to do, but working withsupplies wasn’t enough to keep Mo from noticing when things were off.

If they were being honest, maybe Mo and Slugger knew Toby andQuinn better than the rest of the others and maybe even that wasn’t much, buteven from what little they did know, River was too twitchy for somebody whoseteam was doing well.

Maybe River was just homesick, and Mo could understand the wantto go back home after they’d all been kidnapped, but Mo at least had Slugger.They’d known each other for a long time; Durango and River didn’t really seemto know each other at all, but even that just didn’t seem to explain the wayRiver seemed so uneasy even when it came to decorating and helping with theirshelter, why she jolted so much and kept glancing everywhere but at the peopleshe was talking to.

Or why she focused so much on Durango’s axe as soon as he madeit and flinched when he swung it while talking about dinner.

Granted, it wasn’t Mo’s place and River, an obvious animal loverwho was probably just worried about the cows Durango wanted to kill, insistedshe was fine, and Mo isn’t River’s teammate.)

But Durango hardly seemed to notice, and even now, he’s too busyjoking about something with Rudi to seem to notice how twitchy River is or theway she’s shifting further from their little circle, back already almostagainst the moss covered, cracked stones that make up a wall as she stares atthe floor.

It might not be Mo’s business, but even just practicallyspeaking, they’re going to be stuck here all night with almost no supplies andnowhere to go until Kate decides they will. There’s only so long they can juststare at the moonlight filtering between the holes in the trap door or theshifting reds and oranges of torchlight without having it come to a head, andbesides that, River deserves better than to be ignored.

Mo and Slugger have made decent contestants, even if they’re notwinning, in part because this all feels like a dangerous game.

They didn’t get anymore of a say for the others, but Slugger’salways been interested in punching things for sport, not survival, and Mo’sposition for dealing with monsters has always been to hide. Mushroom islandsdon’t have monsters, or much of anything besides mooshrooms.

But River doesn’t seem used to running or hiding or punching,and Mo won’t and can’t blame her for that. It’s admirable that she stood up forthe monsters the way she did even when she’s obviously not feeling her best andMo can definitely respect her standing up for the (possibly) innocent.

Still, the twitching is distracting and worrying, and the wayRiver pulls her knees to her chest before burying her head in them, handsclutching at her hair, is beyond concerning.

Mo nudges Slugger’s elbow, gently, before nodding her headtowards River, Quinn also looking over.

Mo’s grateful that Quinn looks ready to say something, becauseQuinn seems better at groups than Mo, even though Quinn’s been twitchy herselfin the crowded basement and that means she’s paying more attention toeverybody, but in the end it doesn’t really matter.

Because River’s half scream might be strangled and muffled, herhead still buried between her legs and arms, but it’s more than enough to geteverybody’s attention, her whimpers just as effective as her arms tremble andall conversation grinds to a dead halt while they stare. Mo can’t help the waythey flinch; they know something’s wrong, but the scream seems like anexcessive step up from the anxious behavior and it proves that something’sdefinitely not right.

“River?” Toby’s the first one to ask, voice shakingeven as he shifts closer from where he was sitting. “What’s wrong?”

“I’m not supposed to be here– I wasn't–” River’swords are muffled, River not lifting her head as she mumbles. She’s stilltrembling, fingers curling into her hair and tugging at her pigtails. “Nottonight.”

Nobody seems to know what to say to that at first, all of themglancing at each other before Quinn smiles weakly, pulling herself to her feetand moving closer to River.

“Hey, it’s okay to be homesick–” Her outstretchedhand doesn’t make it close enough to even brush against River’s shoulder beforeRiver flinches, curling in tighter on herself as she shakes her head.

“No, no, I– I’m not, that’s not–” She attempts toshove herself away from Quinn and the rest of them, shoes pushing against theground as her back stays firmly pressed against moss and stone, River’s voicebecoming even more strained as she seems to realize she can’t move any furtherback. “J-just stay away from me.”

“River, we can’t help if you don’t tell us what’swrong.”

Durango seems as confused, but his dry tone doesn’t help what’seither a poor joke or a drawled observation.

“Besides, there ain’t really anywhere to go.”

He’s not wrong, though. Even a comfortable sized circle has themnearly taking up all available room, and even if most of them were moresqueezed together on this side, there wouldn’t be much room to even scoot backin.

“Up the ladder– go.”

Slugger moves from Mo’s side towards River, smile sympathetic ifopenly bewildered.

“What about the demon animals? You don’t want us to hurtthem.”

“They don’t know they’re monsters. Get away from me beforeI– before I hurt you.”

There’s nothing to say to that, nothing that isn’t puredisbelief because there’s no way River could hurt any of them, never mind anyway she would want to.

Because there’s hardly a beat between when River warns them andwhen she screams.

It’s clear and strained, and it gets that much more startling byhow it shifts into a yowl, and River’s motions shift from twitches to spasms.

In a very quick turn of events that has them all yelping andscrambling, there’s a loud series of cracks that probably come from bones asRiver continues yowling, back arching as her fingers curl and she beginsthrashing about.

It’s in a matter of moments that feel like too many hours thatRiver’s hair darkens and shortens, almost vanishing before the rest of her iscovered in thick fur of the same length, her now visible mouth gaining muchlarger and more jagged teeth before her hands twist, fingers and hands quicklyreplaced by thick paws with larger claws. Her ears shift to the top of herhead, pointed and covered in extra thick fur, and when she lifts her head, hereyes are entirely a deep brown, save for the black slit-like pupils, and nearlyas distracting as the long white and black whiskers that adorn what’sundeniably a muzzle.

(She’s a huge wolf but not, and seems far too big to be anythinglike the cats Mo’s heard of.

The long tail curling behind her and the seemingly retractableclaws that scratch even more at the floor hardly seem dog-like, though, andwhat it is doesn’t matter because the yowl it gives before it begins hissingmakes it clear that it’s unhappy and dangerous.)

Mo finds their idea of everyone being to one side becoming areality as they dart away, Slugger nearly dragging Mo as she bolts to the wallopposite of River.

It’s not exactly a far distance, Slugger to their left with Tobyclutching to their right arm as everybody huddles together and pushesthemselves as far from River as they can.

Whatever shame there might be in trying to shrink so that thecan’t see beyond their hat is smothered by terror because Mo’s as aware aseveryone else that they’re trapped between the monsters tearing through theirshelter and the one right in front of them.

Because whatever’s in front of them right now isn’t River, notany more.

Its golden furry pelt is spotted, heaving as it snarls andhisses at them, and Mo quickly realizes that they’re all roughly huddled aroundDurango because he’s the one who’s pulled an axe out.

(He’s the only one who held onto his weapon; the rest of theirsare in a pile in a corner of the room on the creature’s half of the room, andwhile picks and shovels are good potential weapons, they do about as much assticks when they’re on the ground and out of reach.

Durango had been stubborn about keeping his, probably in partbecause Quinn had asked if he wanted to put in the pile and they seem to likebutting heads if they can.

He seems to like spiting Quinn, at least, and that’s notnecessarily a bad thing right now if it’s what gives them some kind ofprotection.)

“Holy–”

Durango holds the axe up, knuckles white as he clutches itshandle and stares.

(Mo doesn’t blame him, but he is the one with a weapon.)

Mo glances up, which is hard to do right now thanks to theheaving, furry creature hissing at them, as Quinn raises her voice. Quinn’sglaring at the trap door, the moonlight bright and fierce in comparison to thetorches.

“This isn’t funny, Kate!”

Mo doesn’t realize they’re clinging to Slugger the same way Tobyis to them, or that they’re suddenly crouched so close to the ground, untilSlugger speaks up. Her voice is quiet, probably because of a few things, namelythe large white bared fangs and the pitch black claws that are digging into thegrout between the bricks of the floor, but she doesn’t sound terrified.

“I don’t think Kate has anything to do with this.”

The terrors ebbs for Mo the same way it likely does for everyoneelse, the group still huddled and tense even as the panic is replaced by confusion.

It might be jinxing too many things to wonder why they aren’tdead yet, but the monster hasn’t moved, ears angled back.

Well, actually, while its gaze stays on them, flicking quicklybetween all of them in a way that’s oddly familiar, it seems closer to the wallthan when it had first started hissing, its side leaning heavily into the stonebricks even as it hisses at them.

What becomes even more clear after a moment is how she’sshaking.

Her breathing’s heavy and her ears flatten back even more as shehisses again, long tail striking the wall as it lashes behind her, and hershoulders are hunched. She seems almost as frustrated at not being able to meltinto the wall as she is at them.

(Even if Mo hadn’t just seen the transformation, it wouldn’t behard to believe that the creature in front of them is River.)

“…she’s not attacking.”

More importantly, she’s no longer focusing on all of them. For amoment it seems like she’s just targeting Durango, but River’s not watching hisface or even the way his hands tremble. Her gaze, and hisses, are directed atthe glinting blade of the axe.

Quinn’s the one to speak up about it first, nearly whispering,and maybe it’s because she’s tired and they’re all confused, but Mo appreciatessomeone else noticing it.

“…Durango, drop the stupid axe.”

Durango doesn’t seem to like the idea as much, but that makessome sense, given that he’s the one closest to River and that she’s at leastfocusing more on him by extension than the rest.

“Seriously? You want me to drop the only thing that’sbetween us and that?”

The next hiss is the sharpest and loudest yet, her breathinggrowing more heavy and her tail moving even faster, and there’s barely asecond’s pause before everyone’s hissing at Durango.

“Drop it.”

River’s attention moves back to all of him, body tensing as hemoves, but the same tension that makes her seem ready to pounce vanishes as hedrops the weapon, slowly nudging it away from his body with his boot.

(The others on that side of the group follow suit, because itbeats doing nothing and it’s better to slowly move it away than have that samewary gaze stuck on them.)

“She’s just like an ocelot.” Mo becomes aware thatRudi’s behind them as he leans over their shoulder, swallowing as River slowlypeels herself away from the wall to sniff at the now discarded axe. “Abig, freaky, scary, flesh eating ocelot.”

Personally, Mo’s impressed he managed to keep his sunglasses on,but they didn’t exactly ditch their hat either; maybe it’s something similarfor him, comfort-wise.

(Not the best detail to be focusing on right now, but Mo’salways been better at details than terror, and now that the terror’s mostlygone, they’ll gladly take noticing and wondering over small things.)

“We don’t know if she eats flesh.”

Slugger sounds braver than Mo feels, but that’s not saying alot, and Sacha’s tone is between unconvinced and incredulous.

“With teeth like those, what else do you eat?”

“Still an ocelot.” Toby’s grip on Mo’s arm relaxesjust enough for Mo to realize that they can’t feel their fingers. “Maybe awereocelot. She looks scared.”

No longer holding onto any means of defense, Durango seems morethan happy to try and shift back as far as them.

“And what are we supposed to do about it?”

It’s as much of a whisper, technically, as anyone else’s hasbeen so far, but it’s harsh enough to get River to still, one of her earstwitching before she shifts back to the wall, ears still flattened even if she’sno longer hissing.

It doesn’t stop how much she’s shaking or that her breathing isstill ragged and heavy.

“Don’t you have animals in a mesa?”

Mo shifts closer to the corner as Durango glares at Quinn. Nowreally isn’t the time for a fight, but neither of them seem happy with any ofthis.

“Cattle and horses. Maybe some chickens, and there arealways coyotes to look out for.” He snorts, tilting his hat back as heeyes River. “I don’t know nothing about cats, ‘specially not ocelots. Ialways wanted a dog.”

“Well, you’re a lot of help.”

“Don’t see you doing any better. What, you’re telling meyou never ran across one of these out in the wild?”

Their words get louder, fiercer, as they continue, and River’stail begins lashing faster as she crouches, pressing herself to both the floorand the wall. She would look ready to attack if she wasn’t trembling and if herears weren’t more to the side.

(Maybe Mo’s wrong, because there’s not a lot they know aboutcats and they’ve never really heard of ocelots, but there’s not much aboutRiver’s stance now that makes her look fierce, and she hasn’t started hissingagain.)

“Hey, you lived in the same town as her and didn’t know, sodon’t start picking on me.”

The general closeness of them all being shoved to one part ofthe room makes it easy for both Durango and Quinn to be quietly nudged andshushed.

“Guys, not now.”

Quinn’s gaze softens as she looks at Sacha before glancing atRiver, and the sigh Quinn gives is as soft as she pinches the bridge of her noseand looks up at the trapdoor.

“…Kate wouldn’t just leave us all here if she thought Riverwould kill all of us. It would ruin her game.”

The thought that this is still River is sobering, if onlybecause the idea of River hurting anyone, let alone killing them, is laughable.It works as well as the logic of the statement, because while Kate lives fordrama, all of them suddenly being slaughtered and/or eaten right here and nowbefore one of her games would defeat the purpose of any challenges or points.

Mo thinks someone opens their mouth to say something, butwhatever it is gets cut off by how aware they all become of Durango takes astep forward to the front again.

And another.

And another. By this point, the chances of him running for theladder disappear as he takes another shaky step towards River.

There’s probably a lot that people want to do and want to say,but Mo doesn’t glance at the others, probably focusing just as much as they areon how River shrinks back more before Durango holds out his hand.

“Good kitty…?”

The following silence is thick and uncertain in the worst ways,and Mo isn’t aware that they were holding their breath until River leans intoDurango’s touch, at which point everyone in the group relaxes in the samemoment, sighs of relief coinciding with slumping shoulders.

Mo lets go of Slugger’s arm to rub at their own as Toby lets go,their fingers shaking slightly as blood and feeling returns to their righthand.

“D-do we go back to what we were doing now?”

There’s a bit more glancing at each other before Slugger shrugsagain.

“Why not?”

It’s actually easier than expected for them all to shift backinto their circle and get comfortable again, even if more space is given forDurango while he gives River attention.

River herself sounds the happiest she has all night.

It’s a deep rumble of a purr, steady as River rubs his knee withthe side of her face, eyes tightly closed before she settles her muzzle in hislap.

Mo’s better at stifling their giggle than Sacha and Slugger areat hiding their snickers, but that’s okay. It’s better than cowering andwondering what giant claws and powerful jaws could do to them.

“Looks like somebody has a favorite.” Durango’s frownshifts just enough to turn into a pout as Rudi’s elbow nudges between his ribs.

“Shaddup.”

The response is more grumbled than spoken, but one of Durango’shands begins to scratch behind River’s ears even as he rolls his eyes.

It’s unusual, but Mo almost feels safer this way. Even if any ofthe monsters wanted to try and come down here to get at them, they wouldn’t getfar. They doubt even a monster would want to fight with a giant ocelot, nevermind a wereocelot.

#My Stuff #fanfiction #cotsi #challenge of the spooky isles #motgi #mystery of the greek isles #anon

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17cafe · 7 years

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Camp Teammate

↠ Asked: ❝Can I request a Jun scenario where your class goes camping? First, you hate him because you find him arrogant and you end up being in the same team with him. You and him have a fight and get lost in the forest and have no phone signal. You start to get sick because it’s getting cold and dark, he is worried and takes care of you ( like carry you on his back and find the way to the camp)? You wake up seing him next to you holding your hand, maybe with a confession? Thanks :-))❞

↠ Members: Jun x reader

↠ Genre: angst?? and fluff

↠ Word count: 2100+

You found out about the camping trip only a few hours ago, and yet you were already putting your last bag into the bus, along with all your other classmates.

It wasn’t like you necessarily had a choice in going; you were taking a mandatory gym class, and this was a mandatory field trip. Your teacher claimed that anyone who didn’t go would be given a failing mark, and although it was probably a lie, you didn’t want to risk anything. Besides, this could be kind of fun.

So there you were, on the bus now, literally packed - some people had to sit on their friend’s laps because of too few seats - with students of many different sorts. Everyone from the quiet bookworms to the people in the seats behind you who seemed as though they wouldn’t stop talking for the whole ride.

You were seated beside the one good friend you had made in that class, them joining in on the conversation with the people behind you as you looked out the window, watching the school pass by as the bus started moving. Just like that you were off to the campsite, and stuck with these people for the next twenty-four hours.

It was evening when the teachers called for everyone to change into “gym clothes” and meet at the main cabin. After the short time everyone had to get settled and just run around doing whatever they wanted, it was time to get organized again; after all, this was still a school trip. The teachers thought the best way to do that would be playing a big game of Capture the Flag.

Both you and your friend weren’t nearly as excited as the kids who started shouting and jumping around, but were still glad it wasn’t anything more intense. Or, so you thought.

As the teachers went on explaining the rules for anyone who didn’t know them, they explained the setup too. One team’s base was right where all the cabins are, the other being way up through the forest and on top of the hill that looked more like a mountain from everyone’s point of view down at the base.

Sure this meant better coverage by the trees for people trying to sneak around, but it also meant a better chance of falling and getting injured if someone were to fall. It was kind of steep, and most of the ground on the hill was mossy but there were the occasional rocks, and not everyone in your class played nice.

Jun, or the “teacher’s pet” as everyone calls him, was called forward to be used in an example of what was allowed and what wasn’t, in terms of physical contact. One of the teachers exclaimed that no tackling was allowed before tackling Jun to the ground, earning a laugh from most people. You simply rolled your eyes.

After everyone knew what to do, the same teacher started dividing everyone off by saying either “one” or “two” in order to divide teams evenly. Jun joined as well, starting at the other end of the group.

You were clinging onto your friend’s arm in the middle as a kind of way to show you both were a “two-for-one deal”, and once your classmate got to you both he paused.

“…Two, one, and I guess that makes me two, too~” he laughs at his own lame attempt at a joke and winks at you. “And we are on the same team.. come on!”

He grabs your arm, pulling you away from your friend and shouting for all the twos to gather in a circle as the ones start heading up the hill. You scoff and pull your arm away harshly and he doesn’t even glance at you again.

“Now, our team starts down here, and we have to head up that hill, right?” Everyone nods and some girl you don’t know the name of chimes in, “it looks scary.”

A few people agree, and Jun looks up at it again before continuing. “It is really steep, I suggest we partner up and stick with someone in case of any injuries, sound good? Partner up~” he doesn’t wait for a reply before grabbing onto your arm again, earning another pull away from you.

“Why would I want to be your partner? I have-” he cuts you off with no hesitation.

“What, your friend on the other team? Yeah, bummer that she’s gone. Everyone on our team sucks, I would probably be your best bet.” You look at him in disbelief and turn around to see if anyone else heard that, but all you see is people divided into pairs. You let out a sigh before shaking your head and walking over to your team’s flag, just waiting for the game to start.

Over a megaphone you hear a different teacher warning people to be careful and be fast; they wanted the game finished before nighttime. There was a countdown and the sound of simultaneously blown whistles, and the game began.

Just as you lurched forward to get a start on finding the other team, someone pulled you back. Big surprise.

“What are you doing? Everyone else ran forward, you saw that. Someone needs to stay back here and guard the flag.”

As controlling as he was of other people sometimes, you knew he was right. You just nodded and hung your head down to avoid looking at him, and walked back to stand in front of the flag, waiting for someone to show up.

It was on the verge of becoming night; the sun was no longer visible from the campsite, but still, nobody has shown up to try and take your flag.

You thought the game was over when you saw one of your teammates running out of the forest with a flag in their hand, but shortly after that, you saw them tackled by your friend and she waved and smiled before running her flag back up the hill.

At least that lightened your mood a little.

You were still there, standing with Jun, doing nothing but waiting with the occasional words of small talk. He was growing agitated at the game not progressing and decided for you that you both would take matters into your own hands. You were prepared on giving him a speech about how he didn’t have control over everyone like he seemingly thought he did, but chose to let it be.

Luckily enough, a pair of people from your team came back, out of breath and empty handed. They took the spot of being on guard and you and Jun started heading off, of course, your partner not forgetting to give a remark.

“See? Useless, like I said. I don’t just see why we didn’t head off as soon as the game started like everyone else, it would have been done already.” You scoff. “Jun, that’s what I did, and you-”

He starts running ahead and you give up on talking to him, catching up and running along beside him. The teachers were handing out small flashlights now, considering it’s getting darker. As you were handed one, you were informed the game would be called off soon if nobody won. You nodded and continued running, entering the forest with Jun.

After a while of running around and panting, you both decided on taking a break. You both were headed to where you thought voices were coming from, but because of all the trees, sound was maneuvered to come from everywhere, only confusing the two of you.

“Hey-” he scolded you, slapping the flashlight out of your hands when you turned it on. “If they see us, we lose.”

“If we can’t see, we lose too. Pick it up.” You sit down on a boulder you happened to see before the light went out, and he steps over the flashlight and sits beside you. “What did I say?”

You were no longer in a mood to let him get away with what he wanted. You were tired, and pretty sure you were lost, too. You couldn’t find where the other team’s flag was, and had no way of knowing the route to get back. And on top of it all now, the flashlight was a necessity, as it was officially night.

Jun opened his mouth to talk back but was cut off with the sound of a siren coming from the megaphone. Catching your breath still, you shut your eyes and listened, only to groan when you couldn’t tell the direction it came from.

The boy heard your sound of distress and something clicked inside of him; he knew exactly how you felt, and although being sorry for himself foremost, he became sorry for you.

He stretched out his leg, finding the flashlight beneath his foot and dragging it over until he could reach down and grasp it. He picked it up and shone it onto the forest floor. “Come on, we should get back-” “Ah, why didn’t I think of that?”

You sigh and put your face in your hands. He crouches down in front of you and pulls your wrists down, exposing your tired face. “I’m not in the mood to argue any more, and I can tell neither are you. Let’s just get going okay?”

He keeps hold of one of your wrists, pulling you up onto your feet. You shuffle alongside him with another groan, but your mouth stays open as it turns into a yawn. The sound for some reason is unfamiliar to him and he looks over, snickering when he sees you.

He passes the flashlight into his other hand, letting go of your wrist. Your eyes stay shut after the yawn and you cross your arms in front of you, walking slowly and feeling cold. He’s still rushing ahead of you, and only when he no longer hears your footsteps, he turns around to see you tiredly leaning against a tree.

Sighing, he comes back over to you, shining the light in your face. “Hello? Anyone there?”

You take this as your turn to grab his wrist and push it down. You both manage to let out a chuckle before hearing the siren again, somehow hearing it a lot closer. He perks up but you yawn once more. “That’s it.”

He turns and crouches, pulling your legs forward. Your eyes shoot open as you stumble. He stands up and you hold on to what you can - his shoulders. He has you on his back, and starts heading the same way as before.

“Wha- what are you doing? Let me down..” you say weakly as you wrap his arms around him, scared of falling, but honestly too tired to fully care. He can tell that in your voice and doesn’t respond, just wanting to find the way back and get a good sleep himself. “Just relax, we’ll get back.”

The whole way back - and yes, he did find the way back - you were half asleep. If it weren’t for the minor slips and stumbles here and there, you probably would have actually drifted off.

Everyone was inside their cabins already, and there was a sign taped to the main cabin’s front door: “When Jun and Y/N return, please check in with Mr. Choi”

So, he knocked on the door before entering, and the teachers inside sighed relieved when they saw the both of you. “We’re fine, thanks for looking for us,” he says with a roll of his eyes before heading right out again.

You giggle right beside his ear and he blushes slightly at that.

He asks where your cabin is and you point, and he follows your direction. Passing by your team’s flag still standing he smirks, before reaching the door of your cabin and kneeling, placing you down in front of it. He laughs slightly when he sees you, your hair somehow messy.

He reaches out and strokes it, messing it up even more before fixing it for you. He stares in your eyes almost intensely when you open them again. “Even when you don’t do anything, you mess something up~” he says and gestures to your hair, keeping his front.

You just grin to yourself and look down. “Thanks for finding the way back for us.”

He blushes again, although you don’t see. “It- it was nothing, really, you-” he pauses and remembers to stay tough. “What do you mean ‘us?’ There’s no us any more, the game’s over.”

He bites his lip, waiting for your response. Your heart sinks the slightest, but you just nod in agreement. “Yeah. Good night then, I guess.” You reach out, opening the door to go inside, looking at him once more. “Thanks again.”

The slight smile previously on his face is gone and replaced with a look of no emotion. “Good night,” he waves.

He stays there until you’re safely inside, then hesitates before simply turning and heading down the steps to go back to his own cabin, starting to repeat the day in his head.

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marvelous-imagining · 7 years

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The New Winter Soldier

Request: I love love love your writing! could I have a Steve or Bucky imagine where the reader is an avenger who is captured by hydra and turned into a female winter soldier to get back at the avengers? the team doesn't know Steve/Bucky likes the reader until they see how distraught he is. Can it have a happy ending?💖

A/N: Decided to go with Steve since I haven’t done a Steve imagine since Halloween... At first I thought I could maybe write the imagine with both Bucky and Steve in it with two different endings, but... chickened out. Also, I need to get these imagines done soon, I’m stressing over having them in my drafts for too long. Sorry for taking so long, I hope you all understand. So, the reader is not as shaken up as you’d probably expect her to be but the thing is I wrote this one three part series called Captured a while back and the reader’s going through a lot and I just didn’t feel like repeating that and just wanted to get this done asap. It ended up being so long and I hope this one is good enough. (Also, I’ve got to stop it with these long A/N’s) No requests for second part, please.

Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader

Words: 5,557

Warning: some angst

Looking at your empty and unmade bed, Steve tried to hold back the tears and the urge to punch a hole into the wall. He wondered how he could have let HYDRA capture you. He was beating himself up over it, blaming himself for what had happened to you although it really wasn't his fault. You had sacrificed yourself on a mission to save a teammate, that teammate being Bucky, your and Steve's very good friend.

HYDRA wanted the Winter Soldier back and had tried to take him in many times but hadn't succeeded. A few days before, they had been close to getting him in, they tried to wipe him by using the trigger words but you rushed to Bucky's aid. You had ran over to him and covered his ears, even gave him some earmuffs which led to you getting shot since you were mostly protecting Bucky, not yourself.

Bucky of course had tried to help you but you told him to go away, get the hell out of there. It had taken some convincing, but you succeeded in getting Bucky out of there and unfortunately leaving you behind for HYDRA to take in.

Getting back to the team had been nerve-racking for Bucky. He also felt like it had been his fault that you were left behind. You had helped him get away, Bucky felt like he could have helped you.

The team didn't blame Bucky for what he had done. You were the one who sacrificed themselves to spare a teammate from getting captured. You did a heroic thing, Bucky just did as you told him to do.

So, why was Steve blaming himself? Because he was supposed to be there with you and Bucky, fighting the enemy but instead he had been helping his other teammates since there were a lot more enemies than they had expected. Unfortunately at that same time more enemies had made their way to you and Bucky.

Steve and Bucky, along with everyone else, were very bummed out about the situation but the one who it really took a toll on was Steve.

Steve had feelings for you and had had for a while. Nobody else knew about his feelings although Steve usually was very easy to read. It surprised even himself how he could keep it as a secret from you and the others.

Steve spent a lot of time in your room, just because he missed you so much. Seeing all of your stuff around, even a few clothes on the bed. You had to leave for the mission in a rush and had no time to clean up. You had some files scattered on your desk. He walked over to the desk and sat down on the chair, looking at the desk, seeing a bag of your favorite snacks in the corner. A small smile made its way to his lips as he reached his hand in and took one.

"You know if she knew you were eating her snacks, she'd freak out." Bucky said from the door, making Steve jump slightly, surprised he didn't hear Bucky come in.

"Yeah," Steve sighed and turned the chair so he could face Bucky. "She probably would."

"Although you might be one of the few people she'd actually share them with."

Steve sent a small smile Bucky's way and made a move to stand up from the chair but Bucky held his hand up, telling Steve to stay put as he made his way to your bed, sitting down on it. Bucky placed his elbows on his knees and crossed his hands, looking at Steve. Bucky's brows furrowed and he opened his mouth to say something only to close it again. He did that a couple of times more before Steve lost patience.

"What is it?" The blonde asked, making sure not to sound too annoyed.

Bucky pursed his lips and straightened his posture, placing his palms on his knees before heaving a sigh. "Steve, I know you miss her, I really do." Bucky started, making Steve's gaze fall to the floor. "You've just been cramped up in her room for... hours. We're all starting to get worried."

Steve sighed and was about to reply but Natasha burst through the door. "There's something you gotta see." She said and went over to the TV you had in your room, turning it on.

The news were reporting a terrorist attack, all caused by one person, described to have a mask, hiding their face and black clothes, only one of the sleeves on their jacket was silver with a red star painted on it.

Steve and Bucky both shot up from their seats and shared a look before nearing the television. They looked at the TV, listening to the reporter intently and watched footage of the person fighting, shooting people.

"Oh, my God." Steve said quietly as he recognized the moves of the person fighting other people.

Bucky picked up on the moves too and his eyes widened as he realized who it was. "But... That's..." Bucky couldn't form a proper sentence in his shocked state.

"Y/N." Natasha finished for you. "She's the new Winter Soldier." She said before turning off the television.

Steve continued to stare at the black screen of the television, not able to believe what he had just heard and seen.

Bucky sat back down on the bed and buried his face in his hands, knowing what you were going through because he had gone through the same things, only for a longer period of time. He turned to look at Steve who was still staring at the turned of TV.

"Steve—" Natasha started only to have Steve storm out of the room. Natasha and Bucky shared a quick look before following after him.

Steve's fists were clenched as he walked around the halls, resisting the growing urge to punch a hole in the wall.

"Steve, wait!" Natasha called out. "Stop, we can—"

"No." Steve turned around. "I just need some time alone." He muttered and continued his way, leaving Bucky and Natasha behind.

Steve was in the training room, punching a bag, his third one to be exact. Steve wasn't the type of guy to let out all his anger or frustration on other people, he bottled it up and instead took it out on workout equipment.

Steve was frustrated and angry for what HYDRA had done to you. He was angry because they had done the same thing to you as they had done to Bucky. He hated the fact that two of the most important people in his life had to go through that but he also hated the fact that he too had to deal with that situation twice.

First, he lost Bucky only to see him 70 years later as the Winter Soldier, HYDRA's own killing machine. Another few years later Steve had Bucky in his life again but then the same evil organisation took you, the woman he had feelings for, and made you into a similar killing machine as well.

He had lost two of the most important people in his life to the same organisation and it enraged him. He had to get all that frustration out before he'd lash out on someone. He just needed to calm down before the team started to think of a rescue plan to get you back.

The more he thought about you and all the problems HYDRA had caused, he got angrier and angrier. He was fuming mad, hitting the punching back with much strength. Soon his strikes became so strong that the bag flew across the room, landing on the floor many feet away.

"How many bags have you gone through?"

Steve turned to look at the door, seeing Wanda leaning against the door with her arms crossed. Her gaze wandered around the room, shrugging as she got the answer to her question without having Steve actually say anything. "So... four." She said quietly and pushed herself off of the door.

"Why'd you come here?" Steve asked as he unwrapped his hands from the white thin band.

"I could practically hear your thoughts from upstairs." Wanda sighed as she made her way towards Steve. "I wasn't even trying to read your mind. There's chaos inside your head."

Steve sighed and sat down on a bench, resting his head in his hands. He didn't say anything, just shook his head slightly.

"Nat told me to keep an eye on you while they're away. She told me you how you reacted earlier."

"So now you're my babysitter?"

"No." She shook her head. "I'm your friend."

Steve lifted his gaze from the ground and looked at Wanda, seeing her send a sad smile in his direction.

"We're all worried about her, Steve." She said. "But we're also worried about you."

Steve's brows furrowed slightly as he looked at Wanda, expecting her to explain her statement further.

"You've been acting very... distraught." She said. "More than anyone else."

Steve sighed in defeat and stood up from the bench. "I'm going to take a shower." He mumbled and walked past Wanda.

Everyone, except for Steve, were gathered in the meeting room, waiting for the Captain to join them. They were talking to each other, chatting this and that until the door opened and Steve stepped inside. Everyone fell quiet and just looked at Steve who frowned at the silent stares of his teammates. Steve just ignored them and sat down at the table.

Tony placed a tablet with a file of the mission in it in front of Vision who looked through it before giving it to the person sitting next to her. The tablet circled the table as Tony talked about the plan for the mission, showing exits and entries of the base they were going to from a map, telling the time and all other necessary information of the mission.

The tablet was finally passed to Steve and he looked through it, reading everything, even the people included in the mission. He was surprised not to see his name listed there. He checked it again, a few times. "Why am I not a part of this mission?" He asked, turning to look at Tony who then turned to Natasha, clearing his throat. "What's going on?"

Tony walked over to Steve and took the tablet in hand, placing it between his arm and rib, holding it there securely as he walked back to the other side of the table. "Steve... You're not in this mission because you've been acting a little... unsteady."

"What?" Steve asked.

"Unstable."

"Excuse me?"

"Imbalanced?"

"Stop listing adjectives!" Steve raised his voice slightly, looking annoyed. "Why am I not in this mission?"

"He just told you, Steve." Natasha said. "You're not fit for work right now."

"Yes, I am." Steve fought back. "I'm perfectly capable of going on this mission. I need to save her, get her back!"

"Captain, you are letting your emotions control you." Thor chimed in. "I hate to say this but—"

"Then don't say it." Steve said through gritted teeth. "I need to go! I have to save Y/N."

"You keep saying 'I'," Clint pointed out. "You know, we're here too, right? You're not alone in this."

Steve sighed and leaned back on his chair, making the backrest tilt backwards slightly. "I just... I have to help her." He said quietly, adverting his gaze to the table. "I just can't stand the thought of her—"

"Oh, my God." Bucky said quietly, making Steve look at him in confusion. "You love her."

Steve's eyes widened and he shook his head, "N-No... I wouldn't say lov—"

"I can't believe I didn't notice that before, it's painfully obvious."

"It's not painfully obvious." Steve fought back and turned back to the team, seeing everyone already looking at him. "I just want to save her, that's all."

Tony nodded, taking the tablet and tapping his fingers on the screen. "You're on the mission now." He said and gave the tablet to Steve who then checked the participants again, seeing his name added.

"Thank you." Steve said quietly and slid the tablet back to Tony.

Tony gave Steve a small smile before shaking his head slightly. "Okay, well... We'll see bright and early tomorrow." Tony said and went over to the door. "Let's get Cap's girl back." He said before walking out of the room.

Steve decided not to say anything and just ignored Tony's comment before he got up and neared the door as well.

"Steve?" He heard Natasha call out for him as the others made their way out of the room. He turned around with an arched brow, seeing Natasha waving her hand, telling him to wait for a while.

So Steve stepped away from the door, waiting until the others had exited the room until he turned his attention to the redhead who circled the table, sitting on it so she was facing Steve. "So... you have feelings for Y/N?"

Steve sighed, crossing his arms as he leaned back against the wall. "I'm a bit surprised nobody noticed." He said with a shrug. "I wasn't trying hard to hide it."

Natasha shook her head slightly as she smiled at Steve. She hopped off the table and walked to the door. "Act all nonchalant if you want," she started as she walked to the doorway. "All I wanted was to help you."

Steve just nodded and watched Natasha walk out of the room. He pushed himself off of the wall and turned to the door only to have Natasha rush back in, making him jump slightly. "When did you start having feelings for her?" She asked, holding her hand on the wall, blocking Steve's way. "When and why?"

"Nat, please..." Steve muttered, looking away from her. "I really don't want to talk about it."

Natasha nodded, muttering a quiet apology before she took a small step away from the wall. She gestured to the door, showing Steve that she wasn't going to stop him.

Steve was quick to leave the room. He rushed past Bucky who was waiting for him outside the meeting room. Bucky was about to ask Steve how he was doing but Steve didn't give his friend the chance. He just walked past him, not looking back.

A small frown formed on Bucky's face as he watched his friend walk away. He sighed and turned to the door, seeing Natasha walking out of the meeting room, closing the door behind him. "Anything?" He asked, referring to if she got any information out of Steve.

She shook her head, her long red hair bouncing slightly. "I didn't want to push him. This really took a toll on him."

Bucky nodded, agreeing. He was about to open his mouth but they were interrupted by the sound of someone hitting a punching bag in the gym that was on the same floor.

"Again?" Natasha asked with a raised brow.

"He just needs to let out some steam." Bucky shrugged, brows furrowing in worry.

Steve sat in the corner of the quinjet with his elbows on his knees, looking down at the floor in front of him. He hadn't properly talked to anyone in days, he had been so lost in thought. All he could think about was you. Whenever someone had got him to talk, the subject turned to your situation. Steve really was having a rough time with all that was going on.

He could hear his teammates whispering on the other side of the quinjet. By the way he'd sometimes catch some of them watching him, he knew they were talking about him.

"FRIDAY, how long until we land?" He asked, trying to drown out the whispers.

"Ten minutes, Captain Rogers."

He nodded, standing up and grabbing his shield, going over to the team who quickly quieted down after seeing him nearing them. "So," Steve started, stopping beside them. "Everyone knows their part in this mission, right?" He asked, looking each individual member in the eye. "Where to go, what to do..."

"Yes, Cap, we know." Clint sighed. "I get that you're worried but—"

"Good." Steve interrupted Clint. "Get ready, we're about to land."

It soon became quiet in the quinjet as the team got ready to fight. When the quinjet landed, everyone ran out, fighting off the people outside. While the others stayed behind, Tony, Steve and Bucky made their way to the entry of the base. Bucky and Steve stayed behind as Tony took a shot at the door, sending it down after three shots.

There were HYDRA soldiers right behind the door and Tony took a few shots again, now joined by Steve and Bucky who made their way inside the base, shooting and knocking out enemies as they made their way further into the base.

"Go, I'll keep them at bay." Tony told the two super soldiers and they continued their way as Tony stayed behind, slowing the enemies down.

Steve and Bucky ran through the corridors, searching for you. Steve was afraid they'd have to fight you and knowing what the Winter Soldier can be like, he really wished he wouldn't have to.

Bucky busted in through a door, cocking his gun, ready to shoot if someone came in the way. The two walked around the lab, looking around to make sure nobody was around. Unfortunately, there was.

A man with a lab coat was hiding under the table and held a gun in hand, pointing it at Steve but Bucky was quick to pull the man out of hiding and hitting him in the face, making him fall to the ground, unconscious.

"What's behind that door?" Steve asked as they made their way to the back of the lab, seeing tall and heavy looking dark grey doors. Bucky shrugged and they made their way to the doors, opening them before stepping inside.

Steve was immediately met with a sight of another man with a lab coat and you, frozen in a cryo freezer. Steve was quick to wield his shield at the man in the lab coat, knocking him out before he got to do anything. Bucky cursed under his breath and they both rushed over to you. "We found her." Bucky said to the comm. "She's frozen. Gonna need a while for her to wake up."

Steve was quick to turn off the cryo and open it up, picking your cold body and placing you on a table. He sat down next to the table and looked at you, tears brimming his eyes. He grabbed your cold hand in his and ran his other hand along your forearm, blinking away the tears forming in his eyes.

"Steve," Bucky called out quietly. "She might not remember—"

"I know." Steve muttered and turned towards Bucky, "I know." He repeated, sending his friend a small smile which was returned.

"We should probably take her to the quinjet, to get checked if everything's alright."

Steve nodded and lifted you up only to hear you let out a whine. His eyes widened and he looked down at you, seeing your eyes slowly opening, then closing.

"Y/N?"

"Huh?" He heard you ask as you lifted your head up and laid it on his chest, falling asleep again.

"She's still pretty out of it." Steve said. "Let's go." He said, seeing Bucky nod in agreement. The two started running out of the base.

"We're coming out, we've got Y/N. Keep the enemies busy." Bucky called out to the other members of the team and they picked their base, running as fast as they could until they were outside.

The fight was still going on and they tried to pick up their pace even more, getting to the quinjet safely.

Steve laid you down and Bruce rushed over, checking up on you with the equipment he had taken with him. Steve stayed beside you the whole time, not ridding his gaze from you even when the other members of the team came inside the vehicle and when they took off.

"She's fine, just needs time to wake up." Bruce told Steve, waiting for him to react in any way. "I'm still going to check on her better back at the compound."

"Thank you, Bruce." Steve said, glancing up at him quickly before looking down at you again, running the back of his hand over your cheek. "I'm so sorry." He whispered, still feeling guilty for what happened to you. "So sorry."

Waking up, feeling lightheaded, you lifted your head off of the soft pillow and opened your eyes. The bright lights made you squint your eyes and you covered them for a while, letting your eyes get used to the brightness and you looked around, seeing that you were in a room with a doctor facing away from you.

The doctor turned around and you recognized his face along with the dark curls on his head. "Bruce?" You asked.

He sent you a small smile. "Seems like you don't have much problem with your memory." He said and walked over to you. "Everything is fine physically too, although..." He frowned and looked at a blood sample in his hand. "Seems like you have been injected with the super soldier serum."

You sighed, closing your eyes as you let your head fall back against the pillow. "Yeah, that happened." You said with a small chuckle. "They couldn't have a Winter Soldier without the serum."

"Do you remember much about being under their control?"

You shook your head. "It's weird... Maybe it's going to take some time." You said, frowning. "All I really remember is the pain of getting my memories wiped, a few explosions caused by me—" You stopped, gasping. "How much damage did I cause?"

Bruce looked away from you and you saw his jaw clench. You groaned, lifting your hand to your forehead. "Did I hurt anyone from the team?"

"No." He answered quickly. "You were iced when we got to the base."

You sighed in relief, "Well, that's good." You muttered and sat up. "Can I leave?"

Bruce nodded and stepped away from bed, letting you leave.

You made your way to the common room first, seeing if anyone was around. You took quiet steps towards the room, seeing Bucky, Steve and Sam sitting on the couches, just hanging around.

"Hey." You called out quietly, making all three men turn towards you.

Sam shot up from his seat and turned to you, taking in your appearance. "Man, you buffed up." He said with a small smile.

"Yeah, I'm a super soldier now." You chuckled, flexing your bicep. You frowned at how unimpressed he looked. "You still think you can win me in a fight, don't you?" You asked, seeing him shrug. "You wanna spar?" You challenged him, making him laugh. "Come on I'll fight you—what time is it?"

"12:42." He said and you glanced out of the window, seeing the sun still up.

"I'll meet you after dinner." You said, patting his shoulder.

"It's great to have you back." He said and opened his arms to hug you. You let out a hum in agreement, hugging him briefly before turning to Bucky.

You saw the sad look in his eyes and went straight for the hug, wrapping your arms around his neck. "You're blaming yourself, aren't you?" You asked, not letting him respond before you continued. "It wasn't your fault, Bucky. I was the one who made the call." You said and pulled away, resting your hands on his shoulders.

Bucky nodded, glancing back at Steve who was still sitting on the couch. "Uhm..." Bucky started, turning to you again. "Any memories from—"

You shook your head. "Not right now, at least." You said with a sigh.

"Well, if anything comes up, you can come to me." He offers with a small smile. "I owe you a lot, you saved me."

You gave him another quick hug and then turned to Steve who quickly stood up from his seat, looking at you for a good few seconds, making you give him a questioning look. "Hey, Steve. What—" You were interrupted by him enveloping you in a warm, tight hug.

You were so caught off guard by his sudden actions but you slowly wrapped your arms around him as well. You turned to look at Bucky and Sam, sending them a confused look but got nothing but a shrug back. You turned your head back, running your hands up and down Steve's back. "Steve what's going on?" You asked carefully. "You're freaking me out."

Steve only tightened his hold on you and you decided to shut up for the mean time and just hugged him back. You heard footsteps behind you, realizing Bucky and Sam were leaving the room to leave you and Steve alone.

When he finally pulled away, you placed your hands on his shoulders and looked him in the eye, still confused as ever. "What's going on?"

Steve gulped visibly and looked at you with guilt in his eyes. "I'm sorry."

"What?"

"I'm sorry." He repeated.

"Steve, none of this was your fault and you know that." You said quite harshly. "You're not the person to take the blame for this. I caused this upon myself." You said, pulling your hands back. "I get why Bucky would feel guilty, although he is not, but I don't understand why you would."

Steve shook his head. He was about to speak up but you interrupted him again.

"I would have done it even if you were there."

Steve's jaw clenched and he turned his head to the side, looking away from you.

"Why do you feel guilty for what happened to me? You don't need to apologize, you couldn't have done anything to prevent that from happening. You should just be happy that—"

"Happy?" He asked, brows furrowed. "Happy for what? Happy that you had to go through torture? Happy that you had to go through exactly what Bucky did?"

"Well, not exactly—"

"You know how long it took for him to get over it." Steve interrupted you.

"Yes, I know. I was there." You said, the tone in your voice coming off harsher than you intended. "God, Steve, I'm fine!" You insisted. "Didn't you see how I interacted with Sam and Bucky? I even joked around with Sam—"

"And that's supposed to make everything alright? If you crack jokes, that means nothing bad ever happened, right?"

"No, Steve. I—"

Steve interrupted you once again and began ranting about how you should take the situation more seriously.

"Steve!" You yelled out, stopping him from going on with his speech. "I did what I had to do to save a teammate. I risked myself for someone else, that's what we do! We do this to keep others safe from people like HYDRA. Why are you so mad at me for doing my job?" You asked, feeling slightly hurt by his words. "If anybody else had done it, you wouldn't be yelling at them like this. Why do you treat me differently?"

"Because he loves you."

Your eyes widened as you looked behind Steve, seeing Natasha standing there, rolling her eyes. "What?" You asked, turning back to Steve.

"I never said love." Steve muttered as a blush crept onto his cheeks. "Can we talk in private?"

You nodded, still surprised by what Natasha had said. Steve turned around, sending Natasha a glare as he walked past him.

"Somebody had to tell her." Natasha shrugged. "It's not like you were planning to do it."

You followed Steve but stopped as you got in front of Natasha. "H-he... Uhh—" You stuttered, pointing at Steve who was walking away.

"I'm sorry to drop that kind of a bomb on you." She said quietly. "I think you should talk to him." She said, making you nod. "Oh, it's great to have you back, by the way." She added as you began walking away, towards where Steve went.

You walked along the halls, seeing the door to his room open and you stepped in. You saw him on his desk, just sitting on the chair waiting for you. You shut the door quietly and went over to sit on his desk. You waited for him to start talking or at least look at you but he didn't. You reached your hand out to him, nudging his arm which finally made him look up at you. "What's up?"

Steve sighed, leaning back on his chair. "You heard what Natasha said."

You shrugged, swinging your feet under the table as you held your hands on the corner of the table. "So it's true?"

"Well... I never said... I'm not—"

"Basically the love part was exaggerated?" He nodded. "But you do have feelings for me?"

Steve nodded, pursing his lips.

You let out a breath you hadn't realized you were holding and rested your chin on your hand. "How long?"

Steve huffed, thinking about his answer for a second. "I don't even know. A long time ago."

"Why didn't you tell me?" You asked with a gentle tone.

He scratched the back of his neck, letting out a breathy laugh. "We're friends, teammates... Didn't want to complicate things or make you feel uncomfortable."

Your heart swelled at his confession. The fact that he was ready to find his feelings in the fear of making you feel uneasy showed you just how much he cared about you. "You still had the right to tell me." You muttered, lowering your gaze to your lap. "Is there any other reason?"

"Fear of rejection, I guess."

You couldn't help but smile. You lifted your gaze to his, seeing him looking right at you. "Well that fear is just ridiculous."

With furrowed brows, he asked, "What do you mean?"

You placed your foot under the armrest of his chair and pulled him right in front of you, making his brows rise in surprise. You smiled down at him, ruffling his hair a bit. "Who in their right mind would ever reject you?" You asked quietly, running your hand to his cheek, letting your hand linger there for a few seconds before pulling it back.

Steve looked at you, his mouth slightly agape as the realization hit him. He tilted his head slightly, narrowing his eyes as he comprehended what you had just said. "You... You feel the same way?"

You threw your hands up, letting them fall on your thighs. "For your information I had a huge crush on you when we first met."

"Really?"

"Yes! The crush never went away but it did get easier to be around you without blushing profusely and stuttering like crazy." You said, taken aback by how surprised he was. "You didn't notice? I thought you did."

He just shook his head, blushing himself.

"Are you going to ask me out now?" You asked. "I mean we did both just confess our feelings for one another... Why not go on a date?"

"Okay, I have to ask." Steve said and leaned forward on his chair, looking up at you through his lashes. "How are you so fine with all this? You haven't shown a sign of distress or anxiety from what you went through. What's going on?"

"I don't remember much about it." You sighed, brushing your swinging foot against his leg. "Am I shaken up? Yeah, I am." You admitted, feeling Steve place a hand on your knee in a comforting way. "Does the thought of hurting innocent people against my will bother me? Absolutely." You admitted, shaking your head. "Maybe it's just better I don't remember."

"You know Bucky started to remember after a while." Steve pointed out.

You nodded, "I know. When or if that happens, I expect you guys to be there for me." You said with a small smile. "You'll be there for me, right?"

"Of course." Steve said, giving you a smile as well.

"Good." You said and hopped off the table. You set your hand on his shoulder and gave it a small squeeze. "I think I should go meet the rest of the team, maybe have a little talk with Bucky about... all this, just to talk this through." You asked, seeing him nod along. "But... About that date." You said, seeing him lift his head from the back rest, tilting his head. "You interested?"

He nodded, "Yes, of course." He said, clearing his throat, suddenly feeling nervous.

You bit your lip, preventing yourself from smiling as you noticed his nervousness as well. "How's tomorrow? I think I'll just go easy tonight, you know?"

"Of course," he nodded harder. "Yeah."

Now you couldn't help but let out a quiet laugh. You leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss on his cheek before walking out the door. Before you could close it, Bucky stopped you. "Oh, Bucky. Can we talk later?" You asked, seeing him give you a confused look. "Just to talk some things through."

Bucky nodded, "Yeah, sure. Just come by my room whenever."

"Okay, thanks. I'll see you." You said and turned to Steve once more, waving goodbye. "Bye, Steve."

Steve waved back, letting out a breath as you left and Bucky stepped in the room. "I'm so glad you came, I need help." Steve said, standing up from his seat.

"Help with what?"

"What's a good place to take a girl on a date here?" Steve asked.

Bucky's brows knitted together before they shot up. "Y/N?" He asked with a ghost of a smile on his lips. "Way to go, Steve!" He said, nudging his friend's shoulder. "Sure, I'll help you out."

"Thanks, man." Steve sighed in relief.

"Okay, so let's start planning." Bucky said excitedly, clasping his hands together.

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