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idga-buck · 3 years

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Some and Others, 1/?

Bucky wasn’t looking for a relationship, he was looking for a good night’s sleep, but when he found you he got more than he bargained for.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Word Count: 5,758

Content: swearing, soft smut (18+ only), Bucky being clueless, IW and EG just didn’t happen? idk, everyone’s alive and living in the compound #classic, also me fitting in a bunch of information that probably wasn’t necessary for the first chapter but what’s a story without a sturdy foundation?

After a mission, Bucky is some kind of way. Steve is too careful with him, but he doesn’t exactly blame the captain. Plus as an uncommissioned officer, 70 years without promotion, who is he to disagree. Maybe he isn’t ready for a life of avenging. Certainly isn’t ready for the questions that will follow another sleepless night, so Bucky didn’t stay in. He went out.

His memory wasn’t what it used to be, but Bucky recognized your street the second he’d stepped onto it. He’d parked his bike in the grassy alley on his right, gotten coffee at the Caribbean supermarket across the street when he finally left that afternoon. Technology wasn’t his strong suit, despite his depth of interest in it. There was etiquette and a way to do things that were as nuanced as they were mysterious. Bucky often wondered if people just lived by their own set of rules, leaving everyone else in the dark and only interacting with the persistent few who engaged correctly. He didn’t have the patience for that sort of thing. Shuri reminded him of that more than he cared for, but in terms of debts owed, he could smile through her jokes for a lifetime after the second chance she’d given him.

Bucky Barnes was a ladies man… at some point in his life, but more accurately, his life had been colored with women stronger than him since the day he was born. His mother was the first to hold him, followed shortly after by the older sister who tried to sell him to the milkman. Luckily Mr. Spenser wasn't in the market for a throw away babe and Bucky got to grow up in a house dominated by women. His sister, his mother, his grandmother with the accent that was just gibberish outside of their living room, the two more sisters that were welcomed in after him, though he’d never dream of bartering them away for bubble gum. They were all loud, but kind and could always bring a smile to his face. Even still. Rebecca, the most distant in age, but the closest in spirit, was still living. His baby sister was all grown up to the point of growing back down, shrinking in on herself the way old women do. Bucky made regular trips to the Alzheimer’s care center, sitting with her and loving her as only a brother could. Though her recollection of recent history was gone, Rebecca Barnes could still pinpoint the exact moment that all her girlfriends fell in love with her brother, which made Bucky shake his head and laugh. Her CNAs were worried for her mind when Rebecca introduced them to her big brother, looking closer to a man in his 30s than a man from the 30s, but he assured them that she was correct. He hadn’t changed a bit, she told him with two wrinkled hands on his cheeks. In appearance, not as much as he should have, but in all the other ways people usually mean, Bucky couldn’t feel more disconnected from the man he was when Rebecca was all bright eyes and secret kisses under the corner store awning. Bucky had no problem leveling those boys with a stare back then, but now most of them wouldn’t think twice before using their canes as a switch across his shins just for cocking an eyebrow in their direction. Talking to his mother wasn’t possible anymore and his sister wasn’t in a state to give out girl advice. Shuri was on another continent. Natasha… was Natasha and he would never ask for her help with something like this. Wanda was usually awake late at night when he was, but she was still so young.

Bucky looked up from the street, noting your second floor windows were dimly lit. Golden squares stood out against the bricks, blackened by the late hour, and through the gauzy curtains he spotted movement. Without his mother to advise against it or Shuri to give him something better to do, Bucky reached for his phone and scrolled through the recent calls. You’d called yourself before he left, but thinking that he wouldn’t see you again, Bucky hadn’t actually saved the number. Something of a bad habit, he noted, scrolling through lines and lines of unrecognized and unsaved phone numbers, hoping he’d just know it when he saw it. He didn’t.

Until one appeared on its own, presenting him a choice. Answer or reject. A simple question with unknown consequences. Rejecting the call seemed safer, so Bucky pressed the red circle and resumed his search.

“Weren’t you a spy or something?” Your voice drew Bucky’s eyes up from his phone screen to the now open window above his head. You were leaning out a bit, the posture helping your voice to carry over the surprisingly still busy street.

“Somethin’,” he grinned, pocketing the useless device. Both hands secured in his jacket, Bucky tipped back on his heels to get a better look at you. “Gonna invite me up?”

You shrugged and planted your palms against the window sill to lift yourself up. Even from that angle, Bucky was transfixed by your cleavage. Subtle under the tank top you wore, but he remembered it fondly. As if you could hear his thoughts, your arms snapped closed over your chest, bringing the colorful wings of a kimono with them, shielding yourself with floral patterns and defensive body language that made him take a step backwards. “You didn’t call…” you said and though accurate, your accusation made Bucky regret what he was about to do. After waking from the best night’s sleep of his life, he said he’d call you. No amount of self love could bring that much refreshment into his life and the feeling of waking up after a deep and dreamless sleep was enticing enough. The sex was good for a one off sort of thing, Bucky would even say great, but the sleep that came after… he hadn’t been able to replicate it yet. The lure of a good night's sleep and the softness of your body against all of his rough edges were too strong to stop him now. He was committed to this indiscretion, but before he could defend himself, you’d moved on, already smiling again. “And you just ignored my call.”

Bucky’s eyebrows furrowed and lifted in quick succession before he pulled the phone from his pocket again. Saved. And for good measure, he pulled it up to his ear again. You frowned, turning away from the window, presumably to look for your phone. The glass slid shut behind you and Bucky bounced on the balls of his feet while he waited for the metallic purr in his ear to be replaced by something even better.

“What are you doing?” You said over the line.

“Hey, it’s Bucky-“ he heard you stifle your own laughter with a choked ‘oh my god’ in the background. “Remember me?” You hummed and Bucky waited with his eyes on your window. When you didn’t return, he kept talking. “I know it’s late, but I was just in the neighborhood-“ another quiet giggle made him smile as he spoke. “You up?”

“Is this Bucky Barnes’ first booty call?” You asked.

“I guess it is…” he said, half his mouth curving up even though you couldn’t see it. “How’m I doin’ so far?” There was a pause and Bucky started moving toward your door on instinct. It was illogical to think something had happened in those few seconds, but after the day he’d had Bucky didn’t feel confident ruling it out. “Making me nervous out here, doll.”

“You’re doing just fine,” you assured him and Bucky leaned back against the door in relief. “I was about to go to bed… but since you came all this way-“ the end of your sentence was cut off by the loud buzzing in his ear as the lock on the door disengaged from above. Bucky stepped into the first hall, street lamp making the small row of Golden mailbox fronts glitter, and leisurely took the first few steps up. “Better hurry,” you sighed and Bucky stopped, foot hovering over the next step. “Door’s unlocked and I’m already naked.” Bucky was in your apartment and snapping all three locks into their closed position before you’d had the chance to hang up from his impromptu phone call.

You fucked him slowly that night. The rush he felt taking your stairs two at a time dissipated once he was in your bedroom. It wasn’t as frantic or fumbling as it had been the first time and Bucky was happy for the change. When he’d followed you home from the bar, it seemed that both of you had an understanding. One night only, so make it count. It was hard and fast, but so so good. Even the next morning’s repeat and the finale in your shower before he finally pulled away sated had been more like back to back sprints than whatever this gentle marathon was. As if you could feel the stress that Bucky needed to let go of, you moved carefully around him. Totally bare in the bluish glow of the bathroom plug in that lit the scene before him, you took your time undressing Bucky and placing his hands back at his sides whenever he tried to help move things along. When you dropped to your knees, leaving him open and vulnerable standing naked in the middle of your bedroom, he made a sort of wounded noise that made him want to bolt, but didn’t seem to bother you. If anything it spurred you on, drawing more whispers from his rosebud lips until he couldn’t take it anymore. For the first time in his life, Bucky begged for more attention. Not the teasing he did on street corners- come on, baby, you’re breaking my heart here- when a dame tried extra hard to resist his charm. This was real pleading as if he thought he’d die frozen in place without your heat to revive him.

He’d made the right choice. Bucky decided while lying across your bed, one hand twisted up in your pillow case while the other was splayed across your bare thigh, that he’d done the right thing coming to you for this. He could have gone back to that bar or a different one and gone home with another girl just like he had with you, but then he’d be missing the view from under you. Having a new girl everytime Bucky found himself feeling restless sounded exhausting. He’d also determined that his mother would be incredibly disappointed in him if he had rows and rows of unsaved phone numbers from girls that didn’t know they were being used. Finally and maybe most importantly in that moment, Bucky didn’t want to start over with someone brand new. He liked your crumpled linen sheets, liked the smell of ink from the printing studio beneath your apartment. While you rode him to mutual satisfaction, he liked the way your hips rolled sensually over his, liked the slick grind and the dull bite of your nails against his stomach. He liked that after your first, when he asked you to slow down again and extended his hands to you, you took each of them without hesitation. Supporting your weight on outstretched arms, Bucky got to enjoy your hands in his while you gasped out a second. If it had been your first time sleeping together, you’d probably be too prideful or embarrassed to admit that you were tired. He wouldn’t have gotten to hear that whine when you asked if he was close and he replied -smugly- not at all. If it had been your first time together, he’d probably be too prideful or embarrassed to ask you how you wanted him. He wouldn’t know how sweet it felt to have your back pressed up against his chest and he wouldn’t have known to turn you onto your side so he could slip in from behind you. Bucky was so comfortable in your bed with your knee hitched up over his hip, body totally open to his roaming hands. He made the right choice coming back to you and as he finished with a grunt, both arms wrapped around you tight while your arm was bent over his head, gripping his hair with the perfect amount of tension, he’d already decided to make it again.

The next morning, Bucky was refreshed, feeling like a brand new man. That was the feeling he’d been chasing last night or rather very early that morning, but the tightening in his lower body followed by ultimate release was a fine way to get there. Just like last time, he’d woken up alone only to find you in the bathroom, washing sleep from your eyes and fixing your face. His enhanced hearing meant he could listen to the tap running and the echoing “puh” of you spitting into the sink without having to open his eyes. Comfortable and naked against your pillows letting the familiar sounds tell the story of your morning routine. He didn’t mind waiting as long as you crawled back in beside him like last time. Bucky only peeked twice before he heard the zipper of your makeup bag close and the magnet on your medicine cabinet snap shut behind the mirror. You were back with him in a moment and he turned toward your scent, aloe fresh deodorant and sharp minty breath beckoned him closer and he hummed against your lips. If he cared to move, he’d swallow down the remainder of your mouthwash then swap cool kisses until his tongue tingled against yours, but he was so comfortable. Even more so once you’d laid across his chest, bumping your nose and chin against his until he opened his eyes. Bucky dropped his arms heavily across your back, keeping you planted against him, though you hadn’t struggled or made any moves to leave him. He couldn’t have that with someone new. If he swapped your number for someone else’s, he’d have to flirt and wade through the post sex awkwardness again. He’d have to go out more and hope his charm would work on another. He’d have to perform for them the way he had for you the first two times. The third, in your shower, was messy and wet and fun despite the soap in his eyes, which you wiped away for him while his hands were occupied by holding you up. He wouldn’t have that with someone new until he made it happen and frankly he didn’t want to make it happen. Not yet. Not when you were still cute and still into him and still happy to hear from him even at 2 in the morning when he looked like a creep under your window. Why trade all that just to say he could have another then another? Sex was good. That morning stuff was good too. If it was the orgasm that made him feel alive again, then the warmth of your bed and your lips drifting lazily down his chest was what made life worth living. One gal was enough for him. You were enough.

Bucky hadn’t even noticed that he was drifting off again until you spoke. He didn’t hear you, but he sure it didn’t matter and responded with some ta sentiment of his own. “Thanks. For this.”

“Thank you,” you corrected and he smirked at that, eyes still blissfully closed. “Hey, uh— Bucky…” You sounded nervous and he had to force his eyes open at the sound of your voice shaking around his name. You must have noticed his sudden concern and placed a hand soothingly over his chest. “I just…” you bit your lip and Bucky watched the wheels churn behind downturned eyes. It was sweet, the way you could flip from bold and sexy to this. An errant curl fell out of its place and he felt the desire to pull that twisty rebel between two fingers before moving it back to follow the part you’d intended all the up to his second knuckle. Your hair was the kind he wanted to touch over and over. Not because it was your hair per se, but rather because it didn't have that acrid home perm smell or a hundred little pins holding it in place like his sisters and the other girls he ran around with. They spent hours on their waves and rolls, but you flipped a fist full to one side, fluffing it with your fingers when you wanted his attention and damn if it didn’t work everytime. Before he knew it, a vibranium finger against your temple, following the curve of your ear. Your stunned look made Bucky chuckle. He even patted your cheek in encouragement. After a beat, you were gathered again. Another breath and you spoke. “I just wanted to say, I don’t really do this sort of thing.” His eyebrow shot up at that and you scrambled to correct yourself. “Not this,” you half laughed then gestured to his naked body and yours, hardly clothed. “The bringing strangers home from bars thing. I definitely wasn’t expecting to see you again- not that I didn’t love it- I just didn’t want you to think-“

“I think you’re amazing,” he said quickly to assure you he didn’t think anything else. He wouldn’t either. Couldn’t even imagine anything else after making an ass of himself at your first meeting. He’s felt so out of place and vulnerable and ridiculous trying to take you home the night you’d met, but you hadn’t made him feel wrong or silly for it. For that alone he was grateful. For the sex that followed, even more so. You’d met him with just enough teasing to keep him engaged, but not so much that he felt like he was an unwanted addition to your night and whenever his eyes drifted away like he wanted to run and forget the whole stupid idea, you gently guided him back, eyes and words making it clear that you wanted him too. It was a mutual feeling of desire, as simple as it was complicated. Bucky wanted to keep it simple though, if for no other reason than to keep seeing your awkward smile duck into his neck at the eagerness in his voice. He touched your face again and repeated himself. “I don’t think anything… just that I’m glad I met you… and I’d like to keep seeing you.”

You smiled at him and whatever silliness he felt in his confession evaporated. It was the right thing to say. You sighed and leaned in again like you were going to kiss him, before stopping short and looking up at him through your lashes. “I don’t think I can say no to you.”

“Then don’t,” he said, but it felt like begging again as he hoisted you higher up on his chest to kiss you again. The conversation was over and if you weren’t going to say no to him, then he wanted to start his morning with as many breathy yeses as he could get.

Random serendipitous encounters became less random and serendipitous with every passing week. Bucky was feeling lighter, yet somehow more whole. Boy, did he need that. A woman’s lovin’ will do that for you. He vaguely recalls one soldier or another making similar remarks while he was in Italy. Bucky’s blue eyes belonged to the nurses back then, as his own innocence slowly died with each body dropped by his own marksmanship. This new world, new century he now had to navigate was so different. His enemies weren’t always flesh and blood, even the ones that did bleed bled out in black and blue not Nazi red. Aliens, other worldsmen, some very human psychos with eerily familiar ideologies about who was of value and who was not. Bucky fought next to his friend, spilling blood of all colors when necessary, bearing the stains that Captain America couldn’t as a paragon of justice and honor. Then when the ringing in his ears got too loud, he sought you out. Over and over again. He never showed up unannounced and you always answered his call, even when you shouldn’t. You truly didn’t know how to say no to him and he truly didn’t want you to.

Somewhere in the back of his mind, Bucky knew it wasn’t love, but he didn’t care. It felt good and it felt right and against his better judgment it helped him sleep at night, knowing you were only a half turn away, hugging your pillow, but content to wrap your arms around him instead as long as he asked. And he asked. When he wasn’t in your bed, it helped him stay sane, knowing that someone in the world was waiting on him, caring from a distance, maybe praying for his return. In the Big War, his mother prayed for him. His sisters too. In these mini wars, fought stealthily around the globe, he had you.

Rebecca was still blessedly alive, but his baby sister only remembered him when she saw his face. He would bet that you remembered him even as he schlepped through the mountains of Siberia for the last time. Always Siberia. Evil men must be allergic to sunlight. Sam had jokingly asked him why he always went back and Bucky had jokingly thrown the Falcon’s coffee away, leaving Sam’s hand empty and his mouth full of indignant teeth sucking. That briefing was blessedly brief and Sam didn’t need the rest of his coffee anyways. The flight via jet was longer, but not as horrible as it could have been. Steve’s sympathetic glances were unbearable. It’s the last time, Buck. Yeah, OK. The mission was a success, if you could call it a mission. Sam spun magnificently through the mouth of a cave while Bucky fired back into it, detonating the whole mountainside and leaving this particular Cold War remnant under an avalanche of snow and well kept secrets, never to be reborn. Steve dealt with the press. He had the face for it. Reputation too. Sam soaked up the due praise that came along with it, the next Captain America with his wings and his wit to carry avenging into the 21st century. Bucky, however, peeled off his heavily armed get up and peeled out of the compound without any formal announcement.

When Bucky left for long periods, most assumed he was doing what Steve Rogers would do. Ride around in his bike, traipse through the old neighborhood noting how much it changed. Captain America was the old man, the icon. He had the luxury of wandering. Bucky hadn’t gone anywhere without a mission in mind since the 40’s. He was a soldier, a weapon and while his mind could no longer be weaponized against him, Bucky was still the guy taking care of things that just wouldn’t wash out of Captain America’s shiny cowl. So when he left the compound, no one asked questions. At least not directly to him, something he was thankful for on the hour or so ride to your place. The Bronx apartment was considerably closer than a nostalgic walk through Brooklyn and he got a lot more out of it. He had no mission in Brooklyn, but you were waiting for him and that was enough.

This particular mission was no different. Steve asked him to stay on site and he declined politely as he could without actually stopping to talk to his friend. Natasha called out his hurried steps and followed him halfway to the garage before giving up at his request. It was glaringly obvious to Bucky how they got along so well. Steve and Natasha were quite the pair. Tenacious friends, like the kind of friends that never give up and definitely won’t let you give up on yourself. He saw it in her fierce allegiance and protectiveness over Clint. Now that Steve was huge and well connected in the Avenging community, Bucky supposed that made him the Barton to Steve’s Romanoff. They were insufferable do gooders too. Sure, Natasha had her fair share of red in her ledger, but once she was with the good guys, she was the best of them. Neither one would hesitate to throw themselves on a grenade or over a cliff if it meant someone else’s chance to live. They were do it or die trying people. Sam was… Sam was Sam. And when he spotted Bucky making a beeline to the exit, he just waved and shouted “have a good ride.” The wink was uncalled for and made Bucky question how much Sam really knew. He was a deadly intuitive little shit and despite Bucky’s best attempts not to even think it… one of the best people he’d ever known. Not that he felt the need to tell Sam that. He probably already knew it. Blessedly, Bucky ran into no other superheroes on his way through the compound. The garage, more like a hangar, was empty. Only the most expensive toys in Tony Stark’s arsenal and a high tech key coded workshop that Bucky felt so out of place in he kept a small tool box of his own so he wouldn’t have to wander through it. God forbid he go digging for a socket wrench and laser one of his fingers off. Anything was possible on Stark property.

Bucky zipped across the Hudson and sped toward the zoo, stopping at the deli on the corner and looking up two floors at the flat corner window. You weren’t waiting for him like usual. He’d pulled off the road once he got away from the compound and called you like he always did, giving you plenty of advance warning. It would be more gentlemanly to ask your permission before leaving home, but you hadn’t turned him down yet and if you ever did, he figured he’d keep driving anyways just to be away from everyone else for a while. Most times, when Bucky rounded the corner, slipping his bike into the space between your building and the overgrown lot next door, you found your way to that window, waving him up and putting a little something extra in his steps. You weren’t there, but you knew he was coming, so he made his way to the building’s entrance. A call, a buzz, a knock and Bucky was in your space again, taking a deep breath and inhaling the sweetness from your kitchen.

Your back was turned to him, having opened the door for him before rushing back to your place at the counter without a formal greeting, and Bucky watched curiously as you dropped little chocolate chip cookies onto a paper plate. You waved your fingers around after using your bare hands to pull them off the parchment paper and sucked your thumb between your lips to rid it of a rogue chocolate dripping. Bucky eyed the plate presented to him then looked up into your eyes.

“I googled you,” you said proudly. Bucky nodded and said okay, like he knew what that meant. It sounded sexual, but he hadn’t seen you in a week and frankly, he was more interested in googling than cookies. “It’s your birthday, Bucky! Why didn’t you say anything?” You looked delightfully scandalized and held out two cookies for him, which he accepted with a half smile. They were warm and started to fall apart between his fingers, so he shoved both into his mouth before making a gooey mess of himself. While his mouth was full, you cleaned up your tiny kitchen and dropped the plate onto the coffee table in the living area, talking about how embarrassing it was that you hadn’t thought to look him up sooner, but how lucky you felt that you’d thought about it after he called. You wished you’d had time to make a cake, but wanted to be home when he arrived, so freezer cookies were the best you could do after work.

You weren’t dating. Not really. That was why Bucky hadn’t mentioned it. Steve and Natasha wanted to make a big stink out of it, but he wanted no part of that. He just wanted to see you and get some of that good sleep he only got in your apartment after wearing you out two or three times. Sitting on the couch next to you, he took another cookie from the plate. They were better than they looked and he planned to clear the whole dang thing before taking you to bed. Maybe he’d save a few for the refractory period. You’d need sustenance too. So Bucky took his fourth cookie, which made you smile even wider and pledge to leave the rest for later.

The truth was, Bucky hadn’t celebrated a birthday in decades. The last one he could remember being awake for was in the seventies. He waited outside the governor's mansion in Bermuda for hours, watching a dinner party eventually lull and disperse. The Winter Soldier had no clue of the cruel irony watching another man’s party on one’s birthday, the asset’s only focus was quickly killing the governor and his companion once they stepped out of the house for a walk. He’d spared the dog though, a massive and beautiful beast without a single aggressive bone in its body who loped away from the scene whining. You hated that story when Bucky confessed it. He hadn’t felt the need to go into much detail regarding his time as the fist of Hydra. At first because he didn’t care for you to know. It was a fling. Fun. What pieces he did remember from those days were anything but fun. After determining that he liked you, really liked you, Bucky kept his trap shut for fear of scaring you. You knew who he was in theory, but as long as he wasn’t relaying his bloodiest days to you like he was now, maybe you wouldn’t look at him like the monster he didn’t want to be anymore. To his surprise, you hated that he sat in a tree watching people eat and drink and laugh the night away on his birthday, regardless of whether he knew it at the time. However, you zeroed in on his attempts to spare the dog, filling in the blanks that somewhere deep within the Asset, he had maintained some of his humanity. Some of his Buckyness.

“I don’t know if that helps… or if it makes everything worse…” you said, hesitating to go on, but he caught your meaning. Was it better to think that Hydra succeed in wiping him clean, using only his body and latent memories, discarding his mind all together? Or was it somehow hopeful, to think that in all their trying to eliminate Bucky Barnes in order to free their Asset, some piece of him had remained intact? Bucky wasn’t sure he could stomach the idea that any part of him had been present during grizzly assassinations, nor could he ever fully shake the idea that he wasn’t. Either way, these conversations weren’t what he came to you for.

While you were still looking shy, wondering if you should have stopped him from telling his story, Bucky kissed you. It was sweet, not just from the chocolate on his breath. “Thank you,” he said softly, thumbing a brown smudge at the corner of your mouth. “For the cookies. For listening.” His eyes passed over each of yours in turn. “Thanks for being here.”

“Of course,” you smiled. It wasn’t as obvious as you made it sound, but he liked that you felt it was. “I could be around more, you know.” Bucky didn’t know what you meant, but that became clear in a matter of moments. You sucked in your lips and started again. “I know we haven’t talked about...uh, well, what this is, but you’ve been coming over for a while now and I guess…”

“You guess?” Bucky prompted you to continue, when you trailed off.

“I didn’t expect you to still be calling me, so I guess I’m asking,” you said. “Asking what we are now?”

“Oh.” Bucky hadn’t meant to say it like that, but it came out like that and your eyes widened immediately. He scrambled, grabbing your hands quickly and holding them both in a firm pile against your thigh. “Oh, meaning, I didn’t think that’s what we were doing here, so this is unexpected.”

“Oh,” you respond and Bucky imagines you meant it exactly how it sounded. Disappointed and the single syllable precursor to his being disinvited from your apartment. And your bed. And your everything.

“But, I like the idea,” he supplies quickly, but he can see your look is hesitantly hopeful. “Of more, I mean. Seeing where… ya know.”

“Yeah,” you smile and Bucky breathed out his relief. “So we’re together…?”

“As together as we can be,” he said, having no clue what he meant by it, but it seemed to be the right thing considering how you kissed him. You pulled your hands from his to wrap behind his neck and fit yourself into his lap. Bucky’s hands went to your thighs, spread wide over his hips, and he squeezed his way up the backs to your jean pockets, slipping his hands inside to squeeze again. “Here or…” Bucky pulled away to catch his breath and nod in the direction of your bedroom.

“Take your girlfriend to bed, Bucky,” you laughed, kissing him again and he stood with you still in his arms, legs clinging to his lower back. Girlfriend. Okay, Bucky decided in a snap. He could work with that. Especially if it meant chocolate chip cookies and birthday sex. Which reminded him and you giggled as he turned back around, hoisting you higher up on his torso with the vibranium arm below your butt and stooped carefully to grab the plate of cookies with the other before taking you and your cookies to bed.

His first relationship in the 21st century had surprised him. Come out of nowhere and nothing. One moment he was standing at a bar, nursing a beer that wouldn’t affect him at all while he listened to talk about your job before not so subtly asking about his, the next it was his birthday and he had a mouthful of chocolate chip cookies while you had a mouthful of him. It’s funny how fast life changes. If only he’d known just how quickly his new relationship would fall apart.

A/N: I’ve been cooking up this series for a while now and I thought, why not post the first bit and see what happens. First time writing for this fandom, so we’re diving in head first with a feckin’ long series and some foolin’ around. I do welcome tags if you’re interested.

Masterlist

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky x reader #bucky fanfic #Bucky Barnes fanfic #idga fic #some and others

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thevindicativevordan · 3 years

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Metallo

I wanted to talk about one of my favorite DC villains, a guy who I’ve always thought was incredibly cool. A guy who I’ve thought makes a really awesome contrast for Superman. A guy who has never been in stories that have utilized his potential in my eyes:

Let’s talk about Metallo.

Metallo’s Background

He’s one of Superman’s oldest Rogues, and also one of the Rogues who has gone through the most revamps. The Golden Age Superman fought a guy called Metalo aka George Grant who created a suit of armor made out of the strongest metal on Earth (something that would resurface in the Grant Morrison revamp during the New 52) and a super strength serum that made him Superman’s physical equal. In an odd way he was an evil proto-Iron Man/Post Crisis Lex Luthor:

The John Corben take wouldn’t show up until the 1950s, created by Robert Bernstein and Al Plastino. This was the foundation for the modern conception of Metallo:

Right off the bat Corben was positioned as an Anti-Superman, predating Bizarro who wouldn’t show up until later. Corben worked as a journalist to cover up his real activities as a murderer and thief. An accident that nearly killed him and crippled his human body, forced him to accept a deal with a scientist to transfer his mind to a new artificial body. The scientist transferred his mind into an android body covered in synthetic bulletproof skin, gifting Corben with super strength. The synthetic skin idea would be used in Byrne’s revamp and the DCAU incarnation. He was initially powered by uranium, but was told he would need Kryptonite to fuel himself permanently. Corben would also act as a romantic rival for Clark via wooing Lois with his pretense of being Superman’s secret identity.

Ultimately John Corben would die in his debut issue, after mistaking a museum prop for the actual Kryptonite he needed to power himself. I often wonder if the character might have been better off if he had not been killed off in his debut, similarly to how the Joker was saved from dying in his debut by editorial. There were many intriguing ideas present in Corben’s creation: He was a romantic rival for Clark Kent, he used his journalism in a similar if villainous way as Superman did, and he was powered by the very thing that could kill Superman while still possessing enough raw strength to stand on equal terms with the Man of Steel. If they had kept him around, fleshed him out more, might Metallo have enjoyed more long term respect?

Regardless, Corben’s death paved the way for the third Metallo: His brother Roger Corben.

Roger likewise had a lot of interesting ideas that would eventually get folded into the modern Metallo. He was not a petty thief, but had a personal vendetta with Superman over the death of his brother. Superman accidentally caused the very accident that crippled Roger, adding to the man’s feud. Roger was also a leader within the Skull organization, rather than the small time criminal his brother was. This Metallo’s design would form the basis for the Geoff Johns/Gary Frank revamp during Secret Origin, and I suspect the Johns conception of Metallo as a member of a wider organization and whose transformation was caused by Superman has it’s roots here.

Sadly the take on a more fleshed out Metallo would not last. The Roger Corben version of Metallo would meet his end with the rest of the Pre-Crisis Superman Rogues Gallery in the seminal Alan Moore story Whatever Happened to the Man of Tomorrow?

Enter John Byrne:

During his Post-Crisis revamp of the Supermythos, Byrne returned to the John Corben take of a petty thief injured in an accident, who is rebuilt by a mad scientist Professor Vale. Byrne added his own twist though, with the scientist believing Superman to be the first scout in a full blown Kryptonian takeover of Earth, and specifically crafted Metallo to be an Anti-Superman weapon powered by Kryptonite. Metallo was to be humanity’s defense against the threat of Superman, an idea that would be revisited in Johns’ and Morrison’s revamps. Unfortunately petty thieves don’t make for great heroes, and Metallo killed Vale, ultimately coming into conflict with Superman not over any desire to protect humanity, but to simply eliminate a thorn in his side.

This incarnation of Metallo has basically served as the basis for his appearance in outside media, with a design that blatantly draws on the popular Terminator films.

This version of Metallo would also acquire a variety of powers thanks to making a deal with Neron that included the ability to transform parts of his body into weapons, transfer his consciousness into any technological or mechanical device, and manipulate his size:

Personally I’ve always loved that powerset upgrade, and think it’s crucial it sticks. It let him kick the shit out of Superman AND Batman in Loeb Superman/Batman, which basically solidified for me that this dude was a badass you didn’t want to mess with. Shame he’s never come close to matching that initial impression since.

The DCAU mostly used the Byrne revamp’s take, but they did change a few aspects which would end up carrying over to the mainline version. Most important was the replacing of Vale with Lex Luthor as the mind behind Metallo’s creation, something that would be incorporated in both Johns and Morrison’s later revamps.

One aspect that they introduced that didn’t carry over, that was still utilized to great effectiveness in the show, was that Corbyn’s transformation had robbed him of most physical sensation. He couldn’t taste, smell, touch, all the little things that made us human, and that drove him nuts. Ultimately he would learn that Lex was responsible for what happened to him, and he would swear a grudge against both Lex and Superman. Malcom McDowell was a fantastic choice to play Metallo, and is still the guy I “hear” when I read Metallo’s dialogue.

Now we come to the guy who crafted the next big revamp of Metallo: Geoff Johns.

This version of Metallo incorporated a ton of aspects from the multiple revamps that had preceded it, in much the same way Secret Origin did to Superman as a whole, while also adding a few new twists that I consider essential to the character now.

Like the DCAU, Luthor was the one who transformed Corben into Metallo. Like the Roger Corben take, this John Corben was accidentally crippled in a fight with Superman that gave him a personal vendetta against the Man of Steel. Similar to Byrne, this Metallo was created to be an Anti-Superman weapon. Corben and Lois had had a brief romantic relationship, similar to the original debut of Corben. Johns even incorporated some of the Golden Age Metallo by having Corben suit up in a mech suit made of “Metallo”, the strongest metal on Earth to fight Superman before the accident. Johns also added a key bit of lore that I love, that Corben served as a soldier under General Sam Lane, and became the man’s surrogate son, the child he always wanted as opposed to Lois and Lucy. Here Corben is motivated to fight Kal-El by a mix of xenophobia, need to impress his father figure, desire to impress Lois, and a simple dose of blood lust.

The last major revamp came from Grant Morrison during the New 52:

Morrison kept a lot of the Johns revamp: Corben was a soldier serving under Sam Lane, he had a brief romantic relationship with Lois, he was distrustful of Superman’s heroics, and his transformation into Metallo was connected to Lex. However Corben was a much more sympathetic figure under Morrison than under Johns, genuinely believing Superman to be a threat, he volunteered to be merged with the Metal-0 superweapon (another callback to the original Metalo) to defend humanity, but Brainiac hijacked his cybernetics and turned him into a weapon.

While Metallo would get another visual revamp for Rebirth, posted in the first image, Corben has more or less stayed within the confines that Byrne/Johns/Morrison established.

How I would use Metallo

I said earlier that Metallo is a guy I loved that I’ve never thought has lived up to his potential. He’s a villain with a lot of cool ideas, he’s a villain who has been continuously used by a lot of my favorite writers, but he’s never lived up to the Anti-Superman characterization that’s baked into him. Too often he’s just been a glorified henchman, or a petty thug, rarely if ever challenging Superman except in the most basic physical sense. I think that’s a great disservice to the ability of the character to be a much more important Rogue. That writers so often refuse to focus on him or any of the Rogues beyond Lex also hasn’t done him any favors. Instead of creating countless new OCs that are tossed aside by the next writer, someone needs to come on board with a passion for revamping the classics.

A lot of Superman’s Rogues suck not because they aren’t cool or don’t bring any interesting ideas, but because the ideas don’t do a good job in contrasting with Superman’s attributes. Metallo is a great example of this, look at all the interesting ideas creators have crafted around him, yet none of them have really been able to push those ideas as a way to explore and contrast Superman, so we get basic “Metallo tries to kill Superman, fails, Superman sends him back to jail” stories. That’s a failure of creativity in my eyes. I think that by choosing from some of the revamps listed above, a better, cooler, more interesting Metallo can be crafted.

The basics as established by Byrne/Johns/Morrison are great! The essential ideas that should be incorporated from all of the revamps listed above are:

1. Corben needs to have a military background as in Johns/Morrison. The petty thief origin is too dull, there’s nothing really to be mined there from a characterization standpoint. As a soldier Corben can serve as an interesting critique and contrast of Superman as an icon of America. The “American Way” has always been a dicey add-on to the original “Truth and Justice” motto. Often it’s been used to cast Superman as an obedient stooge of the government, as he was in The Dark Knight Returns, a characterization that has dogged him ever since. I think Corben can serve as an interesting character to explore Superman’s relationship with the American military-industrial complex. I would have Corben be what said complex wants Superman to be, at least in the beginning: A human WMD they can aim and fire, who will always follow orders no matter how reprehensible they are, who has a firm “America First” mindset. That way you can contrast the mainline Superman, and show that Superman is not that while also establishing what “The American Way” means in his eyes. Or you can have Superman drop that aspect of his motto in-universe, out of disgust for how his government perverts it. Either option is fine with me, I didn’t mind when Superman renounced his American citizenship.

2. If Lois often has to end up working with Clark’s exes, whether it’s Lana, Diana, or whoever, I think it’s only fair that Clark has to end up facing down an ex from Lois’ past. It’s important to show that Lois had a life before Clark showed up, and I think Corben is a good way to explore some of that. He’s the possessive ex-boyfriend who doesn’t respect Lois’ personal space and is convinced he can “win her back” via sheer determination. You can also compare and contrast the way Clark courted Lois, did Clark occasionally make the same pigheaded assumptions as Corben did? Corben debuted as a romantic rival for Superman, and I think that aspect still has merit. I also like his status as Sam’s surrogate son, it adds for some nice tension with Clark’s father-in-law that the guy he actually wanted to marry Lois was transformed into a weapon to kill the guy who ended up being his son-in-law.

3. Corben is a true believer in the threat Superman poses, and is willing to take on the transformation into Metallo to protect humanity. It’s xenophobia yes, but with all the Evil Superman stories going around, it’s hard not to sympathize at least a little bit with Corben’s viewpoint, which tie into a deeper attribute of Corben’s I think needs to be brought up: Corben should be a sympathetic villain. I wouldn’t make him a bloodthirsty psycho, Superman has plenty of those. Corben should have villainous valor, willing to tackle on whatever threats to humanity are out there, whether Superman or others. I would make Corben instead someone who has the genuine desire to protect humanity, but lacks Superman’s concern for collateral damage. In that way you could contrast the two’s brand of “heroics”, Superman’s loyalty to humanity as a whole over one nation, and concern with protecting lives first and foremost, Corben’s desire to protect humanity’s future for the “greater good” even if it costs a few lives in the here and now and loyalty to America above all else.

4. I like the idea of Superman being inadvertently responsible for the accident that cripples Corben and mandates his transformation. It adds to his sympathy, helps justify why Superman might continue to believe Corben could find redemption (he wants Corben to change and also wants to find a way to earn Corben’s forgiveness one day), and provides a good personal reason for why Corben would hate Superman, blaming Supes for his current state. I would also have him blame Sam and Lex as well, but he would subdue those resentments for as long as he remained working for the military. Only after he finally snaps would he target those two.

5. Finally I would keep the ability to shapeshift his body into weapons, and to manipulate technology. I would have Corben emulating Adam Jensen from Deus Ex, able to “hack” tech around him for his own purpose, armed with a variety of weapons that make him a huge threat not just to Superman but to everyone. Finally I would get rid of the Kryptonite heart. I’m tired of every battle with Metallo going the same way: He shows up, blasts Superman with kryptonite radiation, Superman lies on the ground gasping in pain, Metallo stands around gloating like a moron instead of finishing Supes off, Supes beats him by tricking him or by someone else intervening. I want to see Metallo as an Anti-Superman weapon realized beyond jus the Kryptonite. How about incorporating the DCAU version’s lack of feeling, so that Metallo doesn’t feel pain from Superman’s blows or his powers? How about giving him an internal temperature controller, so he can’t be melted by heat vision or frozen by arctic breath? How about an invisibility cloak that hides him from Superman’s vision, sound mufflers that let him sneak up on Supes even with his hearing, basically go WILD with his Anti-Superman status, let us see a real fight between someone who can counter each of Superman’s powers! You have Kryptonite Man and Lex for the villains who mainly make use of Kryptonite against Superman, I think Metallo should go in a different direction. Morrison making it so that “Metal-0″ was already powerful enough to hurt Superman is all the justification you need as to why he still poses a threat in my opinion.

I’ll go over the basic arc I’d want to see him undergo and the kinds of stories I think he’s positioned to tell in another post.

#superman #metallo #Lois Lane #sam lane #lex luthor #kryptonite #revamp

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kyber-crystal · 4 years

Text

An Accidental Confession

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader

Words: ~3.1k

Summary: In which you decided to a record a message explaining your feelings for Steve in case you didn't make it out of your mission alive. You don’t have any intention of it actually being heard by him, but you have no other choice to face your fear when it’s accidentally broadcasted across the entire compound.

Warnings: none, this is pure fluff haha with hints of a cocky steve hehe.

A/N: Some dialogue credits go to Descendants of the Sun! (yes, this is a oneshot of a scene from it, bc I love that drama with my whole heart)

Tags: Dedicating this to @sylvie-writes because she’s an absolute SWEETHEART. I LOVE YOU BB. go follow her!

"Hey, Y/N, check this out!"

You glanced up from where you were furiously typing away at the computer to see Peter with a wide grin on his face. "Hm?"

"Look what I found! Mr. Stark's old speaker set!" The teenager went around to behind the table and rolled out the speaker in front of you. "It was a bit souped up, but all it really needed was some TLC and here it is, good as new!"

"Found this old thing while he was cleaning up," Tony explained, "you wanna hook your phone up and give it a go?"

"Uh...sure, why not," you shrugged, standing up and pushing your seat in, making your way over to the two of them. You took your phone out of your pocket and plugged it in.

"Check, one, two," Peter spoke into the small microphone. "Check one, two, three. Hey! It's working!"

You couldn't help but grin at his enthusiasm. "How old is this thing, anyway?"

"Older than me, that's for sure. Now play something!"

"Alright, alright. Let's see..." you scrolled through your playlists until you found the one you wanted, pressing 'play' and putting it on shuffle. "There."

"Fly Me To The Moon! May played it for me all the time when I was little," Peter exclaimed. "She always insisted I educate myself on older music. Now I'm glad she did."

Bucky and Sam stopped screaming at each other as they battled it out in Mario Kart, quieting down and humming to the beat as they held their controllers tightly. Wanda smiled to herself as she stirred the pot of soup on the stove, Bruce on the verge of falling asleep as he sipped his coffee at the kitchen island and read a news article on his phone. The energy within the compound seemed to lighten significantly as Frank Sinatra's soothing voice echoed off the walls.

You went out to the patio to relax, crossing your arms and closing your eyes as the sounds of chirping crickets and music mixed together in one soothing melody, the moonlight reflecting over the water. For a brief moment in time, you were at peace - and you relished in the temporary feeling of serenity. The 'city that never slept' was sleepy, for once. It wasn't all that late, but you were already beginning to succumb to fatigue's temptations.

But then, the song came to an end and switched off to something else.

"Hey, Steve. I hope this message never finds you because if it does...it means I'm most likely dead-" your all-too familiar voice came over the phone, thick with tears as you struggled to contain your sobs. "God, what am I even doing here? I have a gunshot wound that most likely pierced a vital organ so I'm just gonna bleed out here alone- why am I even doing this? I don't even know how much longer it'll be before you arrive with the evac team...so I just want to apologize in advance for not coming back to you like I promised. If I'd known I'd die in a foreign country, I would've lived a more carefree life instead of constantly worrying, like you always told me to just relax sometimes, I'm so, so sorry-"

Your eyes widened in realization and you rushed across the facility as fast as you could possibly go to the labs.

"Leaving words like this before dying is so uncultured- please, Steve...are you on your way? Please tell me you're on your way. If I'm really dying here I don't wanna die alone. Please hurry...I don't think I can last until you get here. Even so, you'll be the first to find me if I die, that is, if my corpse isn't dragged away or some shit like that - God, this hurts- I almost forgot how much it hurt to get shot...damn...I really underestimated the power of a bullet, huh?

Steve's bandaged fists fell to his sides, the punching bag swinging back and forth so wildly that it would've knocked him over if it weren't for his muscular figure. His brow furrowed in concern and he felt a small ache his chest upon hearing your voice crack - you never cried, and even if you did, which was extremely rare, you were good at hiding it from others.

But then a small smile tugged at the corners of his lips - you did ramble sometimes, and he found it rather adorable. It was, in fact, one of the main reasons why he admired you so much.

"FRIDAY? Where's the source of this audio?"

"It's playing from Mr. Stark's speaker in the lab, Captain," the AI responded.

"Thank you."

He unwrapped the tape from around his hands and exited the training facility, going into a light jog as he headed up to the lounge.

"If I knew that I'd die like this, then I would've told you my true feelings. That I'm in love with you and I really wished you'd kissed me when we were watching that movie together- it was Die Hard, wasn't it? I really wished you'd done something. We were sitting so close, and...I couldn't stop thinking about it. I was tempted to just run my hands through your hair and kiss you. And I almost did. I'm so in love with you, hopelessly in love with you...and if there's anything that scares me more than dying alone, it's probably thinking of a way to tell you, and the fear of being rejected by my best friend, my partner in crime-"

A small smile tugged at the corners of his lips. You were in love with him? He felt his heartbeat pick up speed at the thought. He always held that small bit of hope in his heart that you'd feel the same way.

Just as Steve arrived at the labs, you came bursting through the doors with a look of sheer panic in your eyes, your face drained of all color. You quickly unplugged your phone from the speaker as he watched on in amusement.

"Want some, Mr. Stark?" Peter offered through a mouthful of popcorn, holding the bag out to his mentor. "Seems like we're in for a treat here."

"Where'd you get these, kid?" Tony questioned as he reached over and popped several kernels into his mouth. "Mm. Caramel, a classic."

"I always keep some with me. Never know when drama will break out."

Steve laughed and shook his head as you quickly turned around on your heel and sprinted out of the room. It was so unlike you to act like this - normally you were rather guarded and stoic. To see you as anything but was not only amusing, but adorable in his eyes - it was one of the many things he loved about you, in fact.

"Music...really changes a lot of things," Peter cleared his throat awkwardly.

The super-soldier cracked a smile. "I seem to be in the center of that change."

He said a few quick goodbyes went to find you, as Peter and Tony continued enjoying their popcorn together.

"Oh my god, I'm so stupid, oh my god, why did I even record that damn message," you muttered, finding yourself going back outside again. You needed to clear your head and get away from Steve. The secondhand embarrassment you just knew was waiting for you was almost too much to even think about - what would he think of you now? What would everyone else think of you?

Steve had beaten you to it and was already out there, leaning against the glass railing with his arms crossed over his chest, wearing an amused expression on his face.

"Oh my god! You scared me!" your voice heightened to a shriek. "What the hell, Rogers? How are you here? Why are you here?"

"I know you like the back of my hand, sweetheart," he chuckled lightly. "You always come out here whenever you're restless or stressed out. Figured you'd try to flee as soon as you heard," he gestured back inside, "all that."

"That was none of your business!" you squeaked. "It was a private message, not meant for you to actually hear! It wasn't for you!"

"Well, you did announce it, publicly," he defended himself, pushing himself away from the railing and raising his hands in surrender. "And it sounded like it was for me. You said my name."

"It wasn't for you!"

"Then why'd you say Steve?"

"It's a different Steve?"

"A different Steve with a stealth suit, Quinjet, and evac team?"

"Y-yeah! B-but it's really funny. Why are you listening to other people's recordings?'

"Like I said, doll," your face flushed at the nickname, "it was broadcasted publicly. I didn't listen, I heard."

"Because you heard it, you carelessly hear it all the way through?"

He smirked. "You know, you're really cute when you're upset." He smirked, taking several steps towards you. You instinctively stepped back. "But why are you running away? When you were about to die you wanted to confess." With each step he took, you took another backwards. "But since you lived, you changed your mind?"

"Confess? That wasn't a confession. That wasn't me."

"This cell phone is yours," he held up your hand that tightly gripped your phone.

"This isn't a phone- Y/N, what the hell are you saying? Stop talking," you cursed yourself under your breath.

"It's an honor knowing I'm in your will," he said kindly.

"If you know then that's enough," you exhaled, stepping around him to leave. Steve stopped you by placing a hand out in front, before moving it to grip your wrist. You felt your skin heat up rapidly under his touch.

You gasped. "Look! Thor set the toaster on fire!"

"I'm not fooled, sweetheart."

You moved to try and leave again, but he only tightened his grip. "Whether or not it was a confession, I'm going to listen to it, so let's not run away, shall we?"

You were silent for several moments before responding, swallowing hard. "Okay. I got it. I'll answer you so let go of me and let's talk. Really."

"Really, right?"

He obeyed, releasing his hand from your wrist. You quickly moved around him and ran back inside. Steve just laughed to himself, shaking his head in disbelief.

"She finally did it," Sam nodded in approval as he and Bucky finished their Rainbow Road deathmatch. "Good game, man."

"Yeah, good game," they shook hands, "but if I'm being honest...I didn't expect things to go down like that. If anything, Steve seems like he'd be the first to confess. The way they're dancing around each other like oblivious monkeys...damn."

"Couldn't have described it better."

...

You flopped onto your bed, panting heavily as you stared up at the ceiling. Your heart was beating so fast that you felt like passing out. Maybe I'll just die like this and I won't ever have to confess for real, you thought. That sounds much better than death by blood loss from a gunshot wound.

"Hey, darling."

You sat up and let out a short scream as you saw Steve leaning against your doorframe, that damn smirk still on his face. "What the hell? You can't just ambush me like that! How long have you been standing there for?"

"Long enough," he chuckled, sliding his hands in his pockets and stepping inside. This time, you were too lazy to push him away, and just allowed him to sit down next to you at the edge of your bed. Steve propped his hand on his chin as he gazed at you, smiling.

You sighed and let your head fall into your hands. "This is all your fault."

"My fault?" Steve tilted his head in confusion. "How is this my fault?"

"Becau- never mind. I'm busy. I gotta go check up on the new lab I'm working on with Bruce."

You stood up abruptly, but he reached out and grabbed your wrist again. "I'm going to go to the labs, too. He asked me to help with a few things. I think you just found yourself an escort."

"I can go by myself, Rogers. I'm an adult," you gave him a pointed look.

"Ouch. That stung," he pretended to look hurt. "Last name calling? I thought we agreed on sappy pet names. And besides, you know what happened last time you went somewhere alone. You got shot."

"Whatever."

"Hold on," he tugged you back so that you had to sit down again. "Why do you keep running away from me? You confess your feelings in your will and then you run."

"It wasn't my will."

"You said you were scared to die alone."

"It wasn't me. Where is your bout of confidence even coming from?"

"I'm not asking how you feel about me at the moment. Don't feel bad that I found out how you feel about me. Because I'm in love with you too, and nothing can change the fact that I like you even more now."

You swallowed hard.

He smiled again. "And you look beautiful today, doll."

"Stop with the pet names," you mumbled. You couldn't stop the tremor in your tone as you spoke

"Hey hey hey, what's wrong? Why are you crying?" Steve brought a hand up to your face, lightly skimming the tip of his thumb across your cheekbone to wipe away the tears that had fallen. "Hey. Tell me what's wrong, darling."

As soon as that last word left his lips, you lost it. A broken sob escaped from your mouth before you broke down, and he felt guilt settle in the pit of his stomach. Sure, he was lightly teasing you - but he didn't intend for his jabs to hurt you in any way. That was the last thing he wanted to do - to see you cry. He hated seeing you cry.

"Oh, God, I'm so sorry," he whispered, carefully wrapping his arms around you and pulling you to him, rubbing circles onto your back. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have taken the teasing so far. I'm so sorry, Y/N-"

It took nearly twenty minutes for your sniffles to die down and another ten for your crying to stop completely, but he patiently held you until you did. And when it finally stopped, it still took you several moments before you could bring yourself to meet his eyes.

"I look like a mess," you muttered, quickly ducking your head down to wipe at your nose. "I'm sorry you had to see me like this-"

"You look lovely, regardless," Steve murmured, kissing your forehead. "You'll always look beautiful in my eyes."

"You're such a sap," you mumbled, closing your eyes. "I hate you."

"You know you love me, Y/N."

"No I don't."

"That message told me otherwise. You sounded like you were pretty in love, judging by the desperate tone in your voice-"

"Shut up!"

"Make me," he challenged, a smirk appearing on his face.

You huffed and stood up, crossing your arms. "You're a pain in the ass, you know that, Rogers?"

"Watch your language-"

"Make me."

"Using my own words against me, are you?" Steve raised a brow as he stood up as well, walking towards you. You kept walking backwards until you felt your back hit the wall and internally panicked when you realized there was nowhere else to go.

"Shit," you whispered. "I'm not escaping this one, am I?"

"Not a chance," he chuckled wistfully. You felt your heart do somersaults and your stomach twist itself into knots as he met your eyes, a softened look to them that you'd never seen before - what was it? Just a few minutes earlier you'd find yourself squirming beneath his intense gaze but for some reason, you stayed put.

When his lips pressed against yours, you felt a crackle of electricity across your skin and the world fell away. It seemed as if time stopped and held its breath as it watched the two of you, his arm curving around your waist as his free hand rested at the back of your neck, pulling you flush against him. Though you were taken aback by the sudden gesture and terrified you wasted no time in reacting, sinking deeper into the kiss. You could feel him smile against your lips and fireworks exploded inside your chest - if there was a way to describe pure magic, this would definitely be it. And he felt it too - and he swore to himself that he'd never felt a bigger rush of adrenaline before until now.

You looked absolutely stunning to him in that moment as you pulled apart - with your half-closed eyes, reddened cheeks, and swollen lips - his doing, no doubt. Your gaze slipped down to his equally swollen lips and you felt your face flush at the sight. Steve was quick to catch what you were doing and pulled you back in for more.

This time, it wasn't as innocent and quick. It was more needy, passionate - months, no, years of pent-up frustration he didn't even know he had seeping into it. Years of not being able to tell you finally being poured out into one grand gesture - years of finally getting closure because he now knew the girl he'd loved for as long as he could remember felt the same way.

"Oh my fucking shit."

The two of you were practically gasping for air as you broke apart a second time to see a smug-looking Sam.

"You just- I didn't interrupted something between y'all, did I?" Sam cocked a brow. "Looked like you were this close to-"

"No," you exhaled, "we weren't."

"I'm a GENIUS for fixing that speaker! If I hadn't done so you guys never would've gotten together!" Peter squealed as he appeared by the Falcon's side. "I believe a thank you is in order!"

"I hope my timing isn't bad, but I have to ask," Steve cleared his throat and looked you straight in the eye. "that was a confession, right? And you didn't do it just because you felt compelled to. Be honest with me."

You let out a sigh of defeat. "Yeah...it was."

He broke into a gorgeous, million-dollar grin that made you weak at the knees. He leaned down, lips ghosting over yours as if he was going to kiss you again - but pulled back, much to your disappointment.

"I guess I'm the victor of this battle, huh," he whispered before releasing his hold on you and walking out, leaving you to stand there utterly shell-shocked and speechless as Peter and Sam began teasing you.

#avengers imagine #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers imagine #avengers x reader #captain america imagine #captain america x reader #marvel fic #avengers fanfiction #captain america one shot #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers one shot #captain america fanfiction #steve rogers fic #captain america fic #chris evans x reader #chris evans imagine #chris evans fic #chris evans one shot

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kaleidoscopek9 · 3 years

Text

ALRIGHT-

I've had this list of headcannons just sitting in my notes app of my phone and I wanna put it somewhere so 👀

(These are heavily inspired by what I could gather from the skele boys in @bonelyheartsclub! I just threw in a few of my own.)

-----------*

Sans

- Does a LOT of stargazing and has quite a few space-themed knicknacks and clothes in his room. He's got a telescope too!

- Dad jokes. Any time is prime dad joke time. He's never let an opportunity slip past him.

- He's an absolute prank master. You're considered lucky if you happen to avoid the ones he's planted around the house like bombs waiting to go off.

- He's cryptic as fuck. Always giving half-true answers to every question. Occasionally he may slip up and give you a brutally honest response, but that's only with the people he trusts most, and he finds being open to be very difficult.

- He's constantly referencing memes and vine quotes from days of yore. He practically has a database of every meme ever in his head, and he doesnt let it go to waste.

- Cuddling with him is basically a one way ticket to nap-town, and you constantly find yourself waking up to him smooshed against you on the couch after dozing off. For being a skeleton, he is a surprisingly comfortable snuggler.

-----------*

Papyrus

-So much baking and cooking. It's his favorite past time, and the kitchen never smells the same when he's done making whatever he's making in there (it's 12 times out of 10 pasta) And while his cooking may be sub-par, you never say no when he asks you to try his latest dish.

- He's always up to go shopping with you. It never matters where. Malls are his favorite, especially the big grand ones with fountains and huge windows. He makes it a point to bring spare cash because you KNOW he's going to ride the mini marry-go-round even if he can barely fit in the seats.

- You two love to binge watch cooking channels. Always discussing which foods would be the most fun to make, writing down recipies, and having a hell of a time trying to pause the show at the right points to get all the information down.

- Papyrus is notorious for game nights. He's always pulling out boards and cards that you've never heard of before and never starts a game until he's absolutely certain you know the rules. Winning of course, is always his prime goal when it comes to games, but if he senses you're on a particularly rough losing streak, he MAY slip up. Occasionally. Just enough so you can win a game or two. Or five.

-----------*

Blue

- Hyper as all hell. You give him a reasonable dose of sugar or caffeine and he could power an entire city for a few hours without breaking a sweat.

- If he had been in high school, Blue would have been a theater kid. He's always humming a tune from a Broadway show or Disney movie, and he's got a pretty good collection of songs on his brother's Spotify playlist.

- This guy will blast Steven Universe music at full volume he has no shame.

- If you are ever driving somewhere with him, an aux cord is a MUST. Singing in the car is a very frequent thing with you two, and you'll only get out after the song is over.

- He likes cryptids! Mothman is his favorite and he firmly believes he exists somewhere.

- He's your workout buddy. If he manages to drag you to the gym with him, that is.

- Blue hates seeing you down in the dumps, and is always trying to cheer you up with his quirky puns and jokes to get you smiling again.

- He'd be the best motivational poster ever. Whenever he picks up that you're going through a rough spot and falling behind on self-care, he knows just what to say to put the spark back in you again.

-----------*

Stretch

- Radiates goblin energy.

- A goddamn meme lord.

- He's made two or three widely known viral videos and nobody knows it was him.

- You need someone to go to an anime convention with? Stretch is your guy. He's god awful at planning stuff out, but he'll make sure you both have a good time, no matter what happens.

- He's really big into nerd culture, and he DMs for a dungeons and dragons game every week.

- He'll occasionally smoke, but he doesnt have lungs, so he does it more for shits and giggles than anything else.

- As lazy as he seems, he is very reliable. If he knows it's something important to you, he'll get it done. Chores though, he's a lot more iffy with.

- He really likes bees.

-----------*

Red

- Talks big talk, but he's actually a huge softie.

- He's basically a big pillow with sharp teeth that can curse.

- A nervous wreck.

- His brother shops at Hot Topic. He shops at Spencer's. Very convenient.

- He's a pretty big flirt and throws out little compliments and things to butter you up from time to time.

- If you take Red into a Dave and Busters he will win the most expensive prize at the booth in about 2 hours. (He knows how to cheat at every single game)

- He's a competitive gamer, and has a pretty impressive following on Twitch.

- He can go from loud and brash to quiet and insecure in a matter of moments, depending on the situation.

- He loves to bake, although it's something he will never be caught dead doing.

- Comfort is not his strong suit, but he will defend you without a second thought.

- He can be a little clingy and will text you now and again to ask what you're up to, just to ease his mind.

-----------*

Boss

- Professionalism is his game.

- The walking embodiment of Hot Topic.

- He loves to listen to rock and screamo music. He's also got a thing for Disney villain songs.

- You need some punk biker or vampiric goth fashion advice? Boss got ya.

- Skellator Man.

- Out of all the skeletons, Boss has the biggest ego.

- He hates admitting he's wrong. He would rather DIE than admit he's fucked up something.

- "I am not nice-"

- He could kill a man with his high heels.

- If it's got spikes he'll probably wear it.

- Tsundere. Tsundere. Tsundere. Tsundere. Tsu

- Did I mention he's a cold blooded tsundere.

-----------*

Nox

- Small angery man.

- He listens to a lot of classic and instrumental music. He finds it very sophisticated.

- Wakes up obscenely early in the morning. Always followed by a cup of the most bitter coffee on the planet.

- Comes up with the best insults. He could roast someone so hard that they'd dissolve into a pile of soot. He could glare at you and you'd cease to exist. He's that good.

- WILL step on you without remorse.

- Threatens to kill someone on a daily basis.

- Very rarely has spare time for himself. He's always keeping busy doing something.

- Loves dark, dry humor. A child falling off a swing will have him laughing for a good five minutes.

- Has a stone cold poker face.

- He might have a softer side to him. You may never know because of the walls he's built up around him.

-----------*

Rus

- He absolutely adores animals. He volunteers at the local animal shelter and plans on adopting every single dog there.

- Rus has a massive sweet tooth. Donuts are his favorite, and you can easily bribe him with anything sugar coated.

- A road trip master. You put him in a camper and he knows exactly where he's going and what he's doing.

- "Going off grid, fuck yeah- I pull out my credit cards and shred 'em."

- Hiking, camping and geocaching are some of his favorite things to do. He loves to explore the wilderness and it's like he has a built-in compass for finding his way.

- His ideal date is going to a Wal-Mart and causing absolute chaos by riding bikes around and tossing all of the inflatable balls from their displays.

- Cryptidcore energy.

- Rus loves watching Buzzfeed Unsolved and ghost huntings. He's a big fan of Supernatural and Stranger Things, too.

- Stutters and slurs his words a lot. He's got some speech impediments from the gold canines in his mouth.

- A bit lacking when it comes to social skills, but he can be extremely caring and sweet.

-----------*

Ash

- Very soft-spoken and awkward. He doesn't get much social interaction and is still figuring some things out.

- He's very self-aware of the wound in his head. Whenever he has to leave the house he wears some sort of hat to cover it up.

- Practically lives in his garden. He understands plants more than he does human beings, and he spends time daily tending to whatever he's growing.

- Him and his brother are both vegetarians, and the smell or sight of meat makes them both feel sick to themselves.

- Has trouble sleeping due to his reoccurring nightmares. He will often sit in his garden late at night to help calm himself.

- Radiates soft energy. He would absolutely give the best hugs out of all the skeletons.

- Very touch-starved. Physical affection is something he rarely recieves, and he probably lingers with touches a lot longer than he should.

- Unintentionally makes God-teir jokes without realizing it.

----------*

Poplar

- Very well-educated in a lot of things. He really likes stocking up on useless factoids and making up his own just to mess with people.

- He answers Jeopardy questions with concerning accuracy.

- He enjoys going out to eat, and he's always up to try fancy foods.

- He likes photography and reading. He is well into the Harry Potter series.

- Poplar is prepared for anything at any time. A lot of stuff doesnt phase him at all, and it's difficult to catch him off-guard.

- He's willing to try anything new, once.

- Always willing to help out with schoolwork if he thinks you're seriously struggling with it.

- He's always carrying around small planners and notebooks to write in so he can keep track of things.

#long post #headcannons #hc #bhc #bhc headcannons #bonely hearts club #like i said #most of these are from the game #i just have a very specific image of these guys in my head and i wanted to put it down somewhere

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baobaojng · 4 years

Text

secrets of the hill (jung jaehyun) - fourth

secrets of the hill (jung jaehyun) - first, second, third, fourth, fifth

jung yoonoh (jaehyun) x reader - 1800’s jaehyun!au , arranged marriage! au , supernatural-ish?!au , victorian? i think? !au

themes: angst, fluff, (just some implied smut along the way, i’m far too soft)

reminders: i’m half lazy, so i might not be able to drown myself in as much 1800’s facts as i’m supposed to as a responsible author — SO, yes, this will purely rely on fiction

note: detail explosion....?,,,..,????

summary: in the present day you are confused; you do not know who you are and you find yourself on an impossible quest to find out— until you wake up in the 1800’s, engaged to a hauntingly beautiful and uptight man who tries to figure out why the girl he’s been betrothed to has drastically changed.

wordcount: 5,480

After two or three dozen more pairs joined the opening dance, Jaehyun could no longer locate you. You were suddenly out of his line of sight even when the dance was over.

“Are you alright?” Alice asks him, discretely laying her fingertips on the bare parts of his hands. This does not calm him, not like it used to. The man can only shrug her off. He doesn’t think he can handle you disappearing again— not when it felt like this.

Truth be told, Taeil expertly whisked you away in between the dances to be able to talk in private. But you were not going to have this conversation with him alone, or else you would completely go out of your mind, so you also quickly grabbed Yuta and let Donghyuck socialize with all the young ladies who seemed to be interested in him anyway. The younger lord needed some social interaction, very very much needed social interaction.

“Yuta.” Taeil acknowledges your very specific choice in companion as the three of you make your way through the overly decorated hallways.

“Taeil.” Yuta responds with no title attached to your cousin’s name, and you begin to wonder why they are casual.

“How are you? I see you have intervened with my work.” Taeil asks the butler.

“Not your work to begin with. But I am managing things, like we usually do.” Yuta answers vaguely, wary of your presence. Maybe it was a coincidental mistake to choose Yuta as a companion. “How’s Sicheng?”

“I suppose China is treating him much better now,” Taeil says, “he prefers his title of ‘prince’ in modern day Beijing than in these times.” Sicheng as in one of the largest stock investors in your sister companies in China (in the future), Sicheng. Sicheng the traditional dancer.

“How are the two of you still keeping secrets from me?” You interrupt, but Taeil laughs. Yuta can only smile, but he was just as in on this as Taeil was.

Yuta still addresses Taeil though, “it was never my intention to bring her into the loop of our mess!” He hits Taeil at the back of the head, and the entertainment of this is the only thing that’s keeping you calm. “You’re responsible, you’re telling her.”

“Fine.” Taeil complains as he suddenly slides a hand on what seemed to be an empty wall, and then an opening appeared out of nowhere. You weren’t sure how that could ever be possible, but nothing should faze you by now.

When you enter the room, you are surprised to see that you are in the house you shared with Taeil. Walking through the place, examining if the details were consistent with your own memory - it all seems about right. The cars speeding in the street outside, the flatscreen television, the centerpiece of art displayed where you knew it hung. This was the right place, definitely.

Although you should have felt some relief of being somewhere supposedly familiar to you, you cannot help but feel like it isn’t at all right.

“How is this possible?” You look behind you to see if the entry way was still there, but it wasn’t anymore.

“Time passes by a quarter faster here because of the continuum interruptions,” Taeil comments and he finds himself in his usual seating position on his favorite chair, “but that is because I brought you here. So your timeline is moving a quarter slowly than normal. That means we have twenty minutes to speak here, keeping you more than five minutes away from your husband would be too suspicious. So twenty minutes here is five minutes there, quick math.”

“Her fiancée.” Yuta corrects, as he leans on the wall. Unbothered.

“One of you answer my questions directly, please!” You demand, but they are only calm.

Taeil puts on the ugliest smile you’ve ever seen in your life. “Where do I begin...?” He prolongs his words. “My dearest cousin, have I been lying to you.”

“Biggest understatement of the century, Taeil.” Yuta comments, but your eyes shoot daggers to his interruption. It was a really lame attempt at a joke, especially coming from Yuta.

“Makes two of you the biggest liars.” You say, but both of them throw hands as if it’s the most offensive thing you could ever say.

“For starters, we really are cousins.” Taeil says in defense, but you pick up a random object an threaten to throw it to his face. “Okay, okay. You should know that you aren’t from this timeline.” He gestures around the room to make sure you understand. “You are from where we just came from.”

“Taeil and I are from the same timeline,” Yuta speaks up, “but we are tasked to see through that the timelines are correct. That’s why Taeil can skip back and forth, and so can I, and so can Sicheng - wherever he may be. Doesn’t matter what walk of life: whether billionaire, butler, or dancer extraordinaire.”

“But the lying? Is that some responsibility you two have as well?” You ask the two of them.

“Yes and no,” Yuta explains, “we should not intervene a soul’s quest, but if we have to - we have to lie to our best extent to not make it seem like we are imposing. Sort of like, trying to stay out of it as much as we can.”

“Huh.” You maintain, trying to put pieces together.

“I was just supposed to look after you, and Yuta to Jaehyun and Donghyuck - but you were in trouble those many moons ago, so I had to bring you here.” Taeil says, referring to the future— or present setting, whatever. “But your purpose is not the same as ours, so you physically are not capable of jumping through the timeline perfectly. When I brought you here a year, or four months, ago - you forgot all your memories because the transition was too abrupt for you to handle.”

“But what about all the details you told me about my life?” You ask him, trying to make sense of the life you made in the 21st century. How it was so easy for you to adjust if you came from Victorian England.

“They weren’t completely lies. You are an engineer, and you do like classical music.” You know when Taeil likes to play it off as innocent, but you don’t buy it. There’s more to what he’s trying to say and he’s only buttering you up.

“What else, Taeil?”

“Your parents did die in a fire, and we did grow up together in some sense.” Then that memory you had of Jaehyun confronting you in your workspace is complete, you walked out because the Yang sisters had called you names regarding your parents. Orphan.

“Then what about that letter invitation you sent me?” Taeil nods, whipping the same letter out of his pocket. To which you also recover the same exact letter from your pocket, giving him a look that says ‘how?’

“We have to go to another room before I can really explain this technical time travel stuff,” he rises off the couch and the three of you are off to go to Taeil’s room. Unimpressed by the change in setting, you want to protest, but he slides his hands over the wall and the next thing you know you’re stepping into another familiar place.

The antique shop.

“No, no. Not antique shop.” Taeil explains as if he’s some television host and this is some terrifying nightmare reality show of your life, and you can hear Yuta snicker behind him. “There are two timelines you’re bordering, Y/N. The 1800’s and well, present time. My house, our house in the future, and this antique shop - might I also add, Yuta and Sichengs other wormholes - are all void of the concept of time unless subjected to outsiders. So that means you and my party guests, really.”

It makes the most sense at the moment. “Okay, but what about the letters?”

“Objects that pass through timelines, no matter how rare, are copied and stored here in this infinitely growing place cleverly disguised as a antique shop,” he points at everything in the place. “Think of it like a computer constantly copying a file when it passes through the limbo of code or something.”

“I don’t quite understand?” You realize you suck as trying to understand computers that well, but now that you know you aren’t even really from the future - it makes sense how you’ve been such a grandmother about asking Taeil how to use simple objects.

“Oh Taeil, you’re a hopeless time guide.” Yuta complains from the back, so all of you settle your attention to the shaggy haired man. Suddenly you understood why he was so willing to be patient to teach you around and about the Jeong manor, maybe this was his thing. “Okay, Y/N. Pay good attention at my demonstration.”

You nod, allowing him to continue as you follow his steps around the shop.

Yuta pinches at his suit, and points to your dress. “What we’re both wearing exist in the timeline of the past,” you respond with an ‘okay,’ “but we did travel through time by skipping to your own home in the future, so that would mean that here in the void of time - it should have made a copy for itself. It kind of safeguards the events of time, that’s why.” You are brought to an endless array of mannequin stands, and the most recent are your gown and his suit.

“Which also explains my collection of art, the book I gave you.” Taeil comments, and that’s when you really really want to get to the point of all of this.

“He kind of stole them.” Yuta sneers jokingly.

“Borrowed them, borrowed.” Taeil defends, and you still cannot find it in yourself to join in with the jokes.

“Why did you give me that book in the first place?”

“Taeil was never meant to interrupt,” Yuta silences Taeil before there was anything to say, “but he did anyway.”

“Hey it isn’t like she would be better off here! It would have messed with the entire timeline!” Taeil defends, but you don’t really understand what this all means.

“Souls have purposes that fulfill a timeline,” Yuta huffs, “timekeepers are never meant to interrupt those purposes, and since you lost your memory due to an interruption in your jump in time - he had to give you the book so you could find your way back to your old life. Or else, well, more or less half of the really important contents in this room would cease to exist.”

Taeil finishes it all off, “and I know you’re going to kill us both, but since I’ve done enough meddling, I can’t tell you why I gave you the book specifically. Aside from it getting you back into the loop, I can’t say much more.”

“The two of you are being impossible.” You complain, but you know that they mean it when they say they can’t really do much. The looks on their faces aren’t up for any argumentation.

“You ran away from the manor when Taeil helped you.” Yuta sighs allowing you to see how they didn’t know how to deal with the situation either, “I tried to tell him not to, but we really had no choice. You could have died right then and there, and that would go way beyond unforgivable on both our parts. You have to forgive both of us. Besides, even then, I think it all works in favor for you since you’re getting some of your memories back.” They both wear a sour face, ready to hear a mouth full from you.

“Then if you two can’t interfere, the two of you should give me some clues here and there. I still don’t get how I’m from the 1800’s when my brain is all wired to think in the twenty-first century.” It’s an unexpected reaction, but you know that even if you get mad at the two of them nothing can really be reversed now.

“Time warp, man.” Taeil says, and Yuta has no better explanation.

Technical stuff - you weren’t a fan of the technical stuff; Taeil being a nerd about all the timekeeper things was really just boring. Yuta’s change in demeanor and personality was your definite saving grace. If you weren’t lucky enough to have another timekeeper than your cousin, you were going to rip his hair out to shreds.

Although you could really lay off on the dilemma of time jumping right now; you had a party to attend to. All three of you.

Sliding back into the party, you really believe that it’s only been five minutes. Donghyuck looks absolutely terrified with all the girls who are trying to start a conversation with him, and you arrive just in time to the poor soul.

Before you could come up with a lie to tell the young lord, someone wraps a hand around your wrist.

“The waltz is to start, and I believe I haven’t had a dance with the lady.” You just know it’s Jaehyun when he says it loud enough for everyone else to hear his invitation, the air near your neck changes: you can feel him breathing.

He just loves making it hard for you to say no.

“Now that all eyes are on us, we have to keep up appearances.” You say in a smile so that all the crows watching would believe it was an innocent gesture. As you made your way to join the dance, the first few swings of the violin bows hitting some chords, you can feel the heat from the palm of his hands.

Then it starts.

His feet go sideways first, leaving spaces for your own to follow. “Where did you run off to?” Jaehyun asks simply, as you find a way for your body to adjust to the movements of the dance. It dawns on you that he noticed your short absence, which you hardly expected of him.

“Caught up with my cousin, and some old friends.” His suspicions were incorrect then; he assumed Taeil hid you for the four months you were gone, and since you needed to catch up on things then it would not make sense that his suspicions were true. What he did not know was that he was correct in some sense.

But you turn the tables back around again to him, realizing that neither of you should care about who you were talking to and why were you talking to them. “What about you? You seem to be quite the busy man.”

He tries his best to pretend like he doesn’t get what you mean, but he does - and it’s the beautiful friend he has waiting by the sidelines for him to stop dancing with his fiancée and with her. “Whatever do you mean by that?”

“I won’t overlook the glint in your eyes, my lord. It isn’t like I’ve been overlooking your actions this evening.” It’s bold how you know, and how you don’t have it in you to lie for his sake. The both of you are aware that there was no consistency to how you treated each other. One day you decided you disliked him, and he was only so cold to you. The other times he would side with you (against the Yang sisters’ interests), and you’d think that maybe you would consider being at least friends with him. Some instances where you swear you could feel your heart try to break out of your chest, and you swear it’s not only you who feels that way. But then he could easily blow you off for someone like Alice, and you did not know what to make of that.

“Allow me the permission to catch up with mine own friends as I do with yours.” Jaehyun becomes defensive, but only under the intent to try and not hurt your feelings.

“Allow me the permission to be painfully honest with you.” You offer, but he will not concede.

Retaliation through words is no longer an option, so he wraps his palm against the back of your hand and rests it on top of the midsection of your torso. If small actions were to be relayed the way they were, then you could perfectly understand what this was.

He found himself jealous of your inability to act possessive of him, but not as much as he was guilty.

“We can’t be anything more than this if you act upon your own contrition,” you warn him, “and not because we are different people, in front of many different people. It’s simply not right for us to pretend to all the time for the sake of other people.” Under your best assumption, the looks other people were giving you were that of shock. Maybe because the way you danced was already obscene as it was.

It feels like a growl into your ear when he answers. “Maybe because you’re all that everyone wants tonight, and to that I am of no exception.” You decide that it is not fair for him to be like this, not understanding his character. But you think that he could go and ask Alice for a dance if he wanted.

Quickly letting go of yourself on his grip, you find yourself in the same dancing position as earlier. Playing with the ends of the sleeves of his dress shirt, you let your fingertips glide on his wrist - traveling to his palms.

It takes more than a lot for him not to do anything to you right now, his still cold hands are melting under your touch.

“Maybe is an awfully vague word, my lord.”

Who was this girl, this awfully enticing being? It was you, well in fact, but you were so unfamiliar to him.

“Spare me from the confusion I’m in,” he seems to beg, “but have you ever considered us being anymore than this?”

“Maybe I haven’t been clear enough for you to comprehend.” You look into his eyes, even if you have bended knees - the difference in height makes you challenge him even further. “You know what I said when I said that I knew my place, you should very much know where your own lies. You confuse your heart, when you know it belongs to somebody else already. Do not allow me to intrude.” Taeil, Yuta, and Donghyuck are visible when you dance over to one side - the two older ones are both fanboying, thinking that this is definitely their ship of the century, while the youngest if thinking the same but on a different understanding of the span of the times. Johnny is still uninterestedly speaking with Alice, who looks like she rejected several men who offered their hands to dance with the lady.

The rasp in his voice doesn’t do you anymore justice but he looks back at you like he’s seen you for the first time (considering that you think his attention is not on you) - and to you it feels like he’s really looking at you, “My heart is in no place, and I am afraid I have to know who you are.” Without any doubt he finally says it, he just knows you’ve changed— and it’s changed a lot in him too. It’s only been more than a week since your return.

Nervous laughter escapes your lips. “Don’t be ridiculous, you know who I am.”

“From the moment you defied my chances at knowing where you have been all those months, I knew you were a different person.” It is like he is controlling your breathing and not just your movements, but you gulp - looking at his pale hands and how they redden at the knuckles. “I want to know who this lady is.”

You hold his sleeves, slowly bringing them up to his hands to intertwine your fingers. The cello sounds are even more intense, your head throbs. Jaehyun sees your expression change, your hands hold even tighter to his own.

“My head.” It comes off as a croak, and you are lucky he comprehends this as fast as he can. His hand is delicately placed at the back of your head, pulling you flush against his chest. To everyone else who was looking, it looked like too much of an affectionate gesture.

You were definitely the talk of the town.

For many nights now you haven’t gotten any sleep— but what was worse about the situation, as if it was not bad already, was that you physically felt as if you were breaking down. You were growing weaker.

Getting up from bed the joints at your knees are stiff and brittle, but they feel as if they are going to bend at any moment. It was like you were being punished for staying here.

Ignoring the way you looked: still dressed in your garments from the night before, hair astray, and dark circles enclosing your puffy and worn out eyes - you walked down to the dining hall to greet everybody a good morning. Alice and Jaehyun are there, talking about some old friend from their childhood. You think that because they have always been so caught up in each other’s company, it was to your advantage that they never paid attention to you. It brought up less scrutiny from Jaehyun, for what it was worth.

“Miss, you have not eaten a thing.” Yuta is concerned, but you decide to drink a glass of water and get it over with. Somehow your appetite has also died down.

“I’m alright.” You say, faking a smile. Hopefully they do not notice that you’ve also tried crying your way out of frustration.

“But miss Y/N, excuse me if I am being offensive, you look quite unwell.” He says with a frown.

Despite the butler’s pleas, you go on to start working on the contraption in your workspace. Distracting yourself from your fatigue seemed to be the only thing that kept you sane.

There was a responsibility you had here, an obligation to finish the project you promised Jeong Jaehyun’s father upon your arrival to the estate. The thing about the mines was, despite it doing very well in terms of the ores it yielded, the Jeongs just knew that there was more to it. A conspiracy you never understood because nobody had ever gotten around to explaining it, but you did not mind the truth of the matter - thinking that you were only to build this machine and be done with it.

Overtime it became an obsession than it was a responsibility; back then it was just pieces of metal screwed and bolted together with your hands. That is, until it became a configuration that you couldn’t solve yourself.

Running back and forth from your workspace to the kitchens to refill your pitcher of water, Jaehyun observes just how much you’ve been tiring yourself.

Although he would have loved listening to Alice’s stories about visiting France with her cousins, the sight of you entering the dining hall looking restless was a bit alarming. There was a distance the two of you established, but he wasn’t a monster - which meant that he wouldn’t stomach you looking like this. Not when it was clearly part of the matrimonial arrangement to make sure you were in good health.

“Lady Y/N?” He asks you, and you jump a little bit not expecting the sudden intrusion in thought. You decide you don’t like the look of concern, if you were reading it correctly.

Just when he was going to speak to you about your own health you divert the conversation because it was something you needed to talk to him about anyway. “Ah, lord Jaehyun, I’ve been meaning to show you progress on the mean looking thing I’m working on.”

It is not easy for you to divert your gaze away from him, but you do it successfully. The metal pitcher cold and the water splashing around, but not enough for it to spill.

He tensely wants to help you, stop you because he thinks you will trip over yourself. You do not look any good now that he was seeing you through the different kinds of light passing through all the windows and the chandeliers of the hallways. But he knew better than to try and impose; you always were the kind to lie for everybody else not to worry. A wicked sense of martyrdom, if you asked him, but who could blame you when all there was between you were disagreements? He could very much guiltily say that it was his fault there was quagmire among the two of you - as he was mostly the one meticulous and with temper.

It was often that he wondered why you preferred to keep everything to yourself if it meant avoiding even more conflict. Jaehyun wouldn’t say he hated you, no. In fact he respected your ethic, he thought you were beautiful to say the least, and you were just admirable. Something that blossomed an unexplainable fondness ever since he met you.

Hate would mean he had the intention to resent you and to be angry at you. Instead he found himself actively being aggressive toward you, trying to divert his disdain about being engaged to someone he could not hate. That was the problem, he wanted for you to be somebody so execrable to justify his desire not be betrothed— but you were all but wretched, not even dislikable.

Surprisingly, Jeong Jaehyun was an avid believer of love. Even if it was not an idea fit for the ages and fit for a person of his social status, it was something he held on to very critically.

It was because he knew he loves somebody else, since he was young. Alice Yang was always the perfect candidate to be his wife, and for the longest time he was convinced that part of his life had already been cut out for him in the stars. But for reasons of honor, and the up keep of the name of family - love was far from priority.

At times like this when you purposefully drag yourself over the mud to protect yourself from feeling any less and allowing them to see that you were as vulnerable as any human, Jaehyun always had a question in his mind. A question that scared him, but he could not control his mind off of asking.

What would be so wrong to allow himself to fall in love with you?

Before he can see how you open the workspace, you already have. The room as clean as you always kept it, and the walls painted in the deep shade of red you wanted.

“Here,” you gesture, bending your knees to be at eye level with the controls of the machine, “I figured I never gave you much of an idea about what I’ve been working on, and I’ve been living here for months now. I think the idea is morphed up enough to be clear.”

“What does it do?” He wonders with genuine curiosity.

With the pull of a lever, he sees the parts move. But then a few pieces in the room start mildly shaking, and he can feel his own necklace do the same. You pull the lever back into place and everything in place stops shaking. “I’ve been meaning to propose that the mines use something of magnetism, I know your lineage has always been so convinced that there’s more to the mines - and this could just be of help. After all, you do rely on what is seen by the naked eye and this does not.” It’s a fairly simple explanation, but he is impressed.

Just a few straggles of time, and it’s another reason for him to doubt himself.

Another thing about you was that you were astonishingly brilliant. He knew that ladies from the Capital were different, which lead him to believe that at first all ladies hailing from there were educated. But upon listening to people who knew of you and of your family (his friend group was also inclusive of count Taeil, although they were not that close), it surprised him to know that your own parents encouraged your education. Even after their death, you pursued it.

He wants to feel only amazement in this moment, but his heart falls at the constant realization that he is not giving you a chance, and his eyes fall to your appearance. Beautiful, undoubtedly, but painfully unwell.

The pitcher is still between your palms and your fingers, until your wobbly legs tip over a bit too much and you cannot regain balance quickly. It almost falls to the ground, but Jaehyun is quick to recover the object - but not quick enough to catch you.

There’s a wince to your face that shows you feel pain, and if it were possible he could say that he felt the pain too.

“I’m fine.” You announce even before he can ask you, and it frustrates him. Although he offers a hand, you hastily get up by pushing your palms up to stand.

“You cannot keep acting this way.” He says, meaning to say it for more than just rejecting his recent offer at help, but for everything else you’ve been burdening yourself with.

It is to his dismay that you do not catch the latter intention. “I said I am fine.” You release a broken exhale, jagged - giving away for the fact that you were not fine at all, not in the slightest.

Today he did not have it in him to try to convince you otherwise. “I think that’s enough working for you today. You shall accompany me for the rest of the day.” He knows you are about to protest, “it is compulsory.” Now you can’t.

There is really not much to do especially when he restricts you from doing anything physically taxing.

His entire idea of accompaniment was for you to simply ‘wait’ for him in his study until the male help of the house would move onto their chores for the afternoon, where his supervision was needed. It was true that he did not have to do anything until the afternoon, but it was also a ploy to get you to take even a nap on one of the soft leather cushioned couches he allowed you to sit in, and he had some matters to attend to before you would wake. Jaehyun sat there in his desk, reading through documents.

The lack of conversation was uncomfortable, you think. And the only real reason why he was spending his time with you was probably because the lady Alice was taking a carriage to town to get some roses - for reasons you still don’t understand. The manor was beautiful enough with the greenery it maintained, it did not need roses, but Jaehyun was going to allow her anyway.

You do end up taking a short nap, not noticing Jaehyun slip away from his study to attend to somewhere else for a while, only to be woken up when it was already the afternoon.

“I have to bring you along somewhere,” Jaehyun says and you look very much disappointed that your slumber was intruded so he tries to find a way to compensate, “don’t worry, it’s not that far a walk.”

It is only to the foyer that you go, but all the help were moving about the furniture and the decorative pieces that hung on the walls or sat in the corners. You forgot, lest you lose your sanity over the past few days, that everybody in the manor had been speaking of redecorating to adjust for the arrival of winter soon.

The illusion was to capture the warmth of summer, something that you would be missing when the snow would eventually fall. Albeit Jaehyun was a man, a very virtuously and physically virile one, some of his decisions still made it clear that there was a child underneath it.

A large frame was being carried by four workers, Jaehyun offering to help them carry the thing but they politely refused. He finally decided to put up something that would cover the boring blank space on the wall.

Jaehyun looks for your reaction when the thing is finally put up - the painting.

“It’s wonderful,” you muse, dazed at the large piece of art, “there are like a million of them.” You refer to the people in the painting, never seeing art quite like this in your life.

He can only smile, he doesn’t feel it but you see that he is quiet, nervously clasping his hands together.

“It no longer feels lonely here.” Another thing you say, until you notice the paint stains along the ends of the poorly folded sleeves of his dress shirt.

end of fourth part.

next: fifth part.

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adultswim2021 · 3 years

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Space Ghost Coast to Coast #85: “In Memory of Elizabeth Reed” | December 7, 2003 - 11:30 PM | S08E04

Happy 20th anniversary, Adult Swim. And, boy, what a momentous episode of Ghost do we have here to celebrate. There are a number of episodes where the guest is an event unto itself and this is truly one of them. Frequent punchline William Shatner is an absolute cunt... and a proper legend. His cuntiness and legendary status are two things that seem to be at odds with one another, and the Space Ghost crew have managed to come up with an artfully idiosyncratic episode to match Shatner’s weird-guy-ness. It’s a classic for sure, and important. But (making a “smug dipshit” face) is it funny?

YES! It’s FUNNY! I will admit though, the first time I saw this episode I didn’t quite know what to make of it. This is partially because I’m very much a Star Trek agnostic. I’ve never been into Star Trek. In the last few years I’ve watched most of the pre-Next Gen motion pictures for inane list-making reasons, and I enjoyed them to varying degrees, but Star Trek is truly not for me. I’m more of a... well, I’m not a Star Wars guy either. What’s the other one? Uh... Spaceballs. That’s it. I’m more of a Spaceballs guy.

But I feel like I’ve absorbed a lot of Star Trek lore through cultural osmosis. I vaguely understand that William Shatner has had some deliberately-paced choreographed fight scene on those rocks from Bill & Ted’s Bogus Journey. When I hear music similar to the the music that Jim Carrey hums in The Cable Guy, I’m pretty sure whatever it is I’m watching is doing a Star Trek thing. And yes, I’ve watched every single Red Letter Media “Mike and Rich talk about Star Trek for 4 hours” video. But even today, after having picked up more Star Trek knowledge on my journey to the grave, I still have this nagging feeling of “I only sort of get this”.

Still, this episode has a handful of screamingly funny lines, and the episode ends wonderfully, with Space Ghost in his death throes, suffering the ultimate indignity of dying in front of William Shatner. There’s also the part where Zorak asks why everyone in Star Trek is black, and a part where Moltar nervously reads from his fan fiction (from a book labeled TARD WARS, hahaha). Shatner, who has a reputation for being arrogant and difficult, is as good a sport as one could hope. The show makes good use of his hammier moments, and only shits on him slightly in the process. The most notable moment is when Shatner says to Zorak “didn't you and I fight to the death?” to which Zorak replies “That sounds pretty dumb, man”. I’ve actually quoted this line many times. It’s one of the best.

Also, for those of you who like to track these things: the show features callbacks to other episodes and shows; the handimen at Zorak’s apartment are clearly extras from Sealab 2020/2021, one of the Leprechauns from Aqua Teen Hunger Force shows up, and there’s a poignant callback to classic Space Ghost episode “Banjo”.

The title motif of this season is naming the episodes after Allman Brothers songs, and I always wondered about this one. Maybe I’m reaching, and it’s probably too disrespectful to be true, but I always thought that it was somehow a veiled reference to Shatner’s wife, whom he supposedly killed or let die. It’s simply too dark to be true, but it’s the first thought that immediately jumped to my mind when I first heard the title of this episode. Am I stupid for thinking this? Am I stupid because it OBVIOUSLY is a reference to that?? I simply do not know. I would like to know.

MAIL BAG

The big anniversary is upon us. What are your 20 favorite things about adult swim for 20 years going. Don't sleep on this question!

I gotta do SOMETHING special, so I might as well do this. More thought could have gone into this, but I spent about an hour trying to come up with episodes or moments from 20 different shows and putting them in rough chronological order. I limited myself to one episode/scene/moment/joke/whatever per show so it’s not all Space Ghost jokes. So, here we go:

Sealab 2021: “I, Robot”. Adult Swim proved it could be brilliant right out of the gate with the stealth premiere of “I, Robot”, but for Sealab it’s all downhill from here. (2000)

Space Ghost Coast to Coast: Space Ghost stops in his tracks to reminisce about the time Bobcat Goldthwait said "crack a window". The entire episode “Kentucky Nightmare” is brilliant, but this moment in particular so uniquely captures my sense of humor that it’s inexplicable. The dumb look on Space Ghost’s face when he stops in his tracks. Goddamn. (2001)

Aqua Teen Hunger Force: “Mayhem of the Mooninites” I tried very hard to make this all be individual jokes or scenes or whatever, but this is another episode where the entire thing is just line after line and I can’t really pick. This, “I Robot”, and “Kentucky Nightmare” is like a perfect trio illustrating how good Adult Swim really was right out of the gate. (2001)

Home Movies: Jason casually reveals that his parents have no idea who Brendon and Melissa are and that he spends most of his free-time making movies with them. This is the episode “Storm Warning” which is overall one of the best episodes of Home Movies, but this scene is probably my favorite. Illustrates how simple and hilarious the comedy is on this show. (2002)

Tom Goes to the Mayor: the end scene in “Undercover”, where they’ve shoddily reversed Tom’s various unnecessary surgeries and called him “Taumpy Tears” to boot. Positively sublime. (2006)

Metalocalypse: Dr. Rockso’s music video. From the episode “Dethclown”. I was never in love with this show as much as the true fans were, but there were a handful of incredible episodes. This episode basically tells one joke over and over and it’s very funny. It really ends with a bang showcasing Dr. Rockso’s shitty music video that celebrates cocaine use. His singing voice is hilarious. (2006)

Assy McGee: I am the only person in the world that defends Assy McGee as being “actually pretty good” and it’s all entirely due to this one line: Assy McGee (a pair of naked buttocks with legs, whose ass functions as his head) is forced to attend a black tie event and is just milling around wearing nothing but a black bow tie. Through clenched anus he delivers the line “I can barely breathe in this penguin suit”. The whole show is worth it for that joke. I don’t even know what episode it is except that it’s from one of the first few. I might not even have the line exactly right. But, I remember laughing so hard. I may not have laughed at Assy McGee again. (2006)

Saul of the Mole Men: The opening theme song. And nothing else. (2007)

Tim & Eric Awesome Show, Great Job!: Jim and Derrick. I should pick something more user-friendly maybe, since this episode almost entirely relies on being familiar with Tim & Eric’s previous episodes. But goddamn, this episode is such a funny concept (which is basically Tim & Eric doing an alternate MTV-ified version of Awesome Show) (2008)

Moral Orel: “Numb”. When Moral Orel suddenly stopped being a quirky Adult Swim comedy and suddenly started doing episodes that resembled art films. This episode is a fucking masterpiece. I remember sobbing the first time I saw it. There are a few in season 3 that are like that, but this one is my favorite. (2008)

Check it Out! with Dr. Steve Brule: Terry Bruge-Hiplo reviews “Dumpster’s Children”. Another bit of comedy that I’d describe as “inexplicable” and “sublime”, and it all hinges on an old man’s mouth. Holy fuck. I don’t think I’ve laughed harder than this at a TV show since. (2010)

Delocated: The ending of “Mole”, an extended Face/Off riff where Jon goes undercover as the scary mobster Sergei. In the final moments of the episode he marries a woman, fathers multiple children with her, and only then is pulled out of the mission. The episode is a tour-de-force of comic acting by Steve Cirbus, who is graciously allowed to shine for most of the episode. But man, that ending is fucking wonderful. (2010)

Venture Bros.: The ending of “Operation P.R.O.M.” a flurry of emotions hit me when “Like a Friend” by Pulp starts playing. The scene is so well done and weirdly touching. Brock realizes that deep down he gives a shit about the Venture family and is genuinely terrified something might happen to them. And then he gets to slaughter a bunch of Zorak monsters, which is also weirdly sweet. It’s even touching on a meta-level knowing that Jackson and Doc tried many times and failed to include licensed music in the show. I love Venture Bros, but I think we’d all be better off if this were the series finale. Sorry. I had to say it. (2010)

The Heart She Holler: The first scene with Patton being taught the way of the world posthumously by his father on a VHS tape. The first season of this show is amazing, but that scene, especially where Patton does a little Japanese bow and says “oh, hot dog!” is just hysterical. Literally every time a hot dog comes up in conversation my wife and I quote it. Please, do not scorn her, it’s not racist when SHE does it. (2011)

Eagleheart: The All That Jazz inspired finale. “Paradise Rising” is mostly a masterpiece, and how it ends is so fucking incredible. Easily the most under-rated show on Adult Swim and I’m not just saying that because... you know (mimes dick-sucking) (2014)

Rick and Morty: I watched the first two episodes of Rick and Morty, thought it was good, but for some reason didn’t become a devotee until my wife made me watch the Mr. Poopybutthole episode. It’s still my favorite episode, I think. (2015)

Brett Gelman’s Dinner in America: The “Dinner with” specials are all really good, but goddamn, this one hits. Should be shown in schools. I am going to go to every grade school in my county with an AR-15 (to get past the guards, of course) and I won’t leave until they call an assembly and they let me fumble around trying to find it on vimeo and play it for the students. (2016)

The Eric Andre Show: Eric interviews Steve Schirripa. The bit where he has an intern dip his balls in Steve’s spaghetti sauce is hilarious, naturally, but I’m here to showcase the running gag where every time Steve complains how hot the studio is, Eric just wordlessly hands him an ice cube until Steve explodes. It’s one of the most childishly hilarious things I’ve ever seen. It’s perfect. (2016)

Million Dollar Extreme Presents: World Peace: The Pick-Up artist sketch. I’m mostly unimpressed with MDE, and all but a few Sam Hyde bits leave me cold. But this sketch is a crowning achievement. I mean, I think these guys suck politically and are more mean than funny, but their sensibilities yielded one really incredible piece of comedy. Okay, I laughed at the blackface sketch too. There. You dragged it out of me. (2016) Joe Pera Talks With You: This show is beautiful and I love every episode. But the episode “Joe Pera Reads You The Church Announcements” Wherein Joe discovers a new-to-him song and can’t stop listening to it, is one of the most joyous episodes of television I’ve ever seen. A gateway episode. I tell everyone to please watch this one first. (2018)

#adult swim #space ghost coast to coast #adultswim2021

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ephyla · 3 years

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March of Dragons ‘21 : Fan content prompt: Flying Free

Flying Free

WARNING: Violence

So, this prompt gave me the idea of how Astrid met Axewing. He’s a dragon that appears in the Rise of Berk game. I find this dragon absolutely beautiful and who doesn’t like a dragon with wings that act like axes? That dragon suits Astrid perfectly, after Stormfly of course.

I couldn’t help myself, I had to add a pinch of Hiccstrid at the end because I love them so much.

Enjoy!

oOo

Astrid was on night patrol duty tonight. It was supposed to be the twins’ turn but Tuffnut has gotten himself injured during their last raid against the dragon hunters. She volunteered to take their place. Unlike Snotlout or Fishlegs, she enjoyed patrols to have some time to herself and would take any opportunity to fly with Stormfly. They were a match made in Valhalla; a pair of warriors with a sense of duty to match.

She scouted all the areas and ticked them off her map, completing her round. Normally, she would be flying back to her hut and get a good night's sleep so she can wake up early and train her stealth skills with Stormfly. Tonight, however, she felt the need to remain in the sky a little while longer. She patted her dragon’s head, gaining her attention. She seemed to be happy gliding through the sky. They were blessed with a warm night, a clear sky, and a full moon; one would be a fool to remain indoors.

“What do you say we take a small detour and enjoy this beautiful night a bit more girl?” Her Nadder squawked in reply, as in to say yes.

Stormfly changed the course of her direction and headed north, opposite from where the Edge was. The gang rarely ventured north, they would’ve but the war against the hunters was most often waging south, not letting them have too much time on their hands to explore much anymore. Saving the dragons and getting rid of the hunters were their main priorities. Occasionally, to save themselves from being overworked and from the constant fear of a new attack, they would go into small groups to explore the nearby islands close to the edge; unless they have a breakthrough with the Dragon Eye, revealing a new species.

The pair were flying over a couple of islands they’ve already discovered before. They practiced some tricks that could be used in battle, but they were also having fun. They started to let their guards down a bit, fully aware that the hunters rarely treaded those waters...Rarely...

Stormfly stiffened, her quills stood upright. Astrid observed the area, fully trusting in her dragon’s instincts. She sensed danger in one of the two islands in proximity.

“What is it, girl?” Before Stormfly could react, a loud roar resounded at the large island to their left. The Nadder waited for her friend’s orders, ready to defend her at a moment’s notice.

Astrid took out her spyglass to observe the island and frowned. She spotted two ships with the hunters’ insignia. She looked back and knew she was too far from the Edge for a distress call. Not only that, but it would also alert the hunters of a rider’s presence. Right now, she had to assess the situation and only had the element of surprise as an advantage.

“Let’s go Stormfly. We need to be as stealthy as possible for now.” She said as she patted her dragon’s shoulder. She made a noise of acknowledgment and flew in the direction of the distressed dragon.

They made sure they weren’t spotted as they landed close to the source of the sound. They moved within the bushes as Astrid counted the number of hunters. The roars were getting louder but were followed by the hunters’ yells, tormenting the poor dragon. Astrid couldn’t identify it by the sound it made, meaning it was either an undiscovered dragon or a dragon she rarely saw. Curiosity took over and signalled Stormfly to stay still and lay low, to which she complied, eyeing her trainer’s surroundings.

Astrid got closer to the last bush coverage and delicately separated the leaves to spy on the little clearing within the thick forest. Her eyes widened at the sight. The dragon wasn’t just an ordinary dragon. It was a titanwing Timberjack. It donned the radiant red and yellow colours of autumn. The moonlight reflecting on those vibrant scales. She couldn’t imagine how mesmerising would that dragon be under the sunlight, flying high above the clouds. It was beautiful.

A whipping sound resonated followed by the Timberjack’s agonising cries. Astrid frowned at the hunters’ cruelty. The dragon had chains wrapped around his snout, neck, and tail, keeping him grounded. She noticed a couple of dragonroot arrows stuck in his side, but it seemed that being a titanwing helped him not succumb completely to its effects in one shot. She reached behind her back and grab her axe’s handle, ready to attack.

Before she was able to do anything, the Timberjack frenziedly struggled, his razor-sharp wings cutting all the trees in proximity, some falling on the hunters. She saw in the corner of her eye Stormfly dashing towards her, projecting her in the clearing. Astrid landed ungraciously in front of the Timberjack, who suddenly stopped to look at the peculiar Viking.

Astrid got up and looked back at Stormfly and saw her crushed under a large tree. The same tree that was going to land on her. Her heart wrenched. Stormfly just saved her life.

“Stormfly!” She ran towards her dragon but was surrounded by some of the hunters. She took a battle stance and gripped her axe as if her life depended on it.

“Kill ‘er!” She heard.

An arrow flew towards her but she managed to parry it with her blade. She launched an attack, slicing her axe across one of the hunter’s chest. A couple of arrows flew towards her again, and used the injured hunter as a shield, killing him. When the hunters at the back had to reload their crossbows, Astrid saw an opportunity to launch herself towards the sword-wielding hunters with a battle cry that made them look at her in fear.

She was trained her whole life to kill dragons, she was always first in her class until Hiccup showed the tribe a brighter future. A couple of hunters wasn’t going to faze her. She was a fearless warrior, while she depended on the rest of the riders to watch her back during their many raids, she was very capable of fighting on her own.

She parried the many swords coming for her, never letting them have the upper hand, and slashed through the mass with ferocious dedication.

The riders did their best to not directly kill unless necessary. They didn’t enjoy having their hands soiled in blood, especially Hiccup and Fishlegs. They were too soft-hearted, always trying to find another solution to their problems. Astrid, however, doesn’t hesitate. If a loved one was in danger, she will not back down from an enemy and isn’t afraid to slice them down with her trusty axe. She is fiercely loyal like that. It doesn’t mean she enjoys it, but she will handle the guilt and nightmares without any qualms if it meant that she doesn’t get to see the people she loves die because of her hesitance.

With some of the hunters out of her way, she managed to create a passage towards Stormfly. She tried to lift the tree, but it was obvious from the start that she needed the strength of ten Vikings to be able to do so.

“Yer not goin’ anywhere little girl.” One of the hunters sneered at her as another wave approached her. “Nice of ye to bring us another dragon though, Viggo will surely be pleased.” He said as he looked at Stormfly.

Astrid wiped some blood off her forehead and stood in front of Stormfly, ready to defend her with her life. She was covered in blood, mostly from those scums, but she could feel the stinging from a couple of shallow cuts. It wasn’t enough to deter her as she glared at the approaching enemy. She quickly stole a glance at the Timberjack, who laid still as a rock. It was observing her with curiosity. It looked like it didn’t associate her with his tormenters. Clever boy. Her eyes went back to the hunters. Some of them released the chains to provide backup as they seemingly couldn’t bring one Viking warrior down.

“Bring it on.” She jeered at them.

They all charged at her. Astrid managed to avoid their attacks and sent a coupled of them to the ground, ending them with an accurate slice to the throat or a classic chop to the skull. The hunters were heavy on their feet and attacked clumsily. While she was alone, Astrid was quick on her feet, all her moves were calculated; she looked like she was dancing on the battlefield, avoiding a sword here and parrying a rogue arrow there. She never let the hunters land a fatal blow. Her focus was impeccable.

It wasn’t until she heard Stormfly’s distressed cried that she lost her focus. She turned around to look at her and saw a hunter approaching the vulnerable Nadder. Astrid was knocked to the ground, dropping her axe in the process. A heavy boot on her chest held her to the ground. She squirmed and tried to pry the leg off, but she wasn’t strong enough. She looked at the hunter and glared at him with all her might. If she was going to die, she will not die with fear written on her face. She was a warrior through and through and stared at Death in the eye, challenging it.

A strident cry distracted her and the hunter above her. Astrid suddenly felt the weight being lifted from her chest, letting her breathe properly again. The Timberjack managed to partially free himself from the chains since less hunters were holding him down. With a quick swipe of his tail, he knocked the men down as well as the large trunk that crushed Stormfly.

Astrid rushed towards her dragon and looked for injuries. Unfortunately, the Nadder seemed to have a broken leg from the impact and she sported a couple of scratches all over her body. Astrid lovingly caressed her beak.

“I’m so sorry girl, I should’ve paid attention.” Stormfly nuzzled her as if to say it wasn’t her fault.

“Thank you for saving my life, I owe you one.” She hugged her tightly, rubbing her nose against her warm scales. The Nadder purred.

A series of yelling brought Astrid back to reality. She looked at the source of the noise and her eyes widened. The hunters have grown in numbers, probably back up from the ships. She desperately looked at the Timberjack struggling to set himself free from the new invasion back to her injured dragon.

“Stormfly, you need to go back to the Edge, get back up.” Stormfly croaked and nuzzled her. She didn’t want to leave her friend here. “Please Stormfly. This is our only chance for all of us to survive. Do you trust me?” Astrid asked as she raised her hand towards her dragon, she felt the gentle touch of her beak. The rider smiled at her Nadder, giving her a quick hug, silently thanking her.

“Go.” Stormfly took off with difficulty, flying back as fast as she could. Astrid thanked the Gods that her dragon didn’t get her wings or tail too injured.

She turned around and dashed towards her axe, avoiding more arrows. She looked at the Timberjack, hoping it would look at her. To get out of here alive, she needed his complete trust. To her luck, his eyes landed back on her. She nodded at him, almost trying to signal him something before dashing towards the hunters holding the chains. She knocked them down one by one, they were easier to kill as their hands were holding the chains.

The Timberjack felt the grip loosen up and checked the Viking warrior’s surroundings. He spotted a line of archers aiming at her. He swiftly swiped his wings at the tree behind the archers, cutting them down in one fell swoop, sending the large trees tumbling down on the helpless archers.

Astrid ran closer to the dragon and beckoned him to lower his head, which he did, trusting the girl to help him. She pried the chains off his snout, hoping he had enough firepower to get rid of the remaining hunters. The dragon noticed some men rushing towards them, he did not hesitate to finally use his fire to burn them and deter the ones reimaging on the side-line. They didn’t look so tough anymore. Losing to a chained dragon and a girl with an axe was a major hit to their egos. They had all the advantages on their side and yet they were helpless. Viggo was not going to be happy.

The Timberjack nudged Astrid with its snout. She looked at him, he didn’t seem to have an aggressive personality, which is probably one of the reasons he was captured in the first place. She raised her hand towards him and let him close the gap between them. She heard him purr.

“You’re absolutely extraordinary.” She said, her eyes filled with wonder. The dragon seemed to like her from the start and hoped he liked her enough to let her climb onto his back.

“Yer not getting away with our prize, girl.” She heard an annoying voice sneer. She rolled her eyes and turned around. The remaining hunters regrouped and were ready for another round. Astrid was already tired after fighting alone and she assumed the Titanwing was too. She glanced back at him and then at his flank where two arrows were sticking out. She hastily grabbed the arrows, looking at the dragon for confirmation. He just stared at her, not doing anything. She considered this enough and pulled. The dragon roared in pain but didn’t attack her. She was surprised at how fast he trusted her despite having a bad time with humans. She just hoped he trusted her enough for her to climb on his back. They were tired and outnumbered and their best option is to fly away from this wretched place.

Astrid placed her hands on his shoulders, ready to jump on, but the Timberjack was a smart one and lowered himself enough for her to climb on with ease. He spread his wings and took off with a bit of difficulty, probably due to his injuries. Astrid held on tight as he cut through the surrounding trees, falling on some unfortunate hunters. With a mighty beat of his broad wings, they flew towards the sky, finally free.

While they enjoyed nesting in forests, Timberjacks were known for flying at a considerably high altitude, to which Astrid wasn’t accustomed to with Stormfly. She felt a colder wind blow through her hair, her cheeks reddened, but she didn’t feel the cold. The dragon produced great heat underneath her as compensation and she felt completely at ease sitting on a wild dragon. It wasn’t often that she rode a dragon that wasn’t her Nadder, it felt strange. While she had to constantly lean forward and keep ahold of her saddle as a Nadder’s back curves downwards, the Timberjack didn’t have legs pulling itself down, keeping a straight back in flight. Astrid had more stability and his gigantic wings, bare of spines provided more room for her to sit. She felt the powerful beat of his wings as they soared majestically through the air. She felt so light. She felt free.

Astrid spread her arms, savouring the cool air, and let out a laugh as the dragon playfully cut through the clouds for fun.

“Oh my Gods, this is amazing! You’re amazing!” She blissfully shouted, giving the dragon a pat. “What I wouldn’t give to have wings acting as axes.” She joked. Her eyes widened, “Hey, that’s what I’ll call you. Axewing! How about that?” Axewing let out a shrill roar, expressing his approval. Astrid laughed again. “A fitting name for a warrior. Gods, for a moment I thought we were done for.” She admitted.

They soared for a while, enjoying their newly found freedom. Despite not knowing each other for very long, Astrid knew that she found a connection with this dragon. Of course, Stormfly will always be her dragon soulmate, her best friend, but she saw a fighting spirit in him that reminded her of Stormfly. She was sure they would get along great.

Suddenly, she heard the familiar strident whistling sound of a fast-approaching Night Fury. Toothless blended with the dark sky, so she was thankful that Hookfang was accompanying him, he was easier to spot thanks to his fire-coated scales illuminating the sky. Astrid beckoned Axewing to fly down and join them as the riders haven’t spotted her from up high.

They blocked their paths, forcing them to abruptly stop. The riders’ eyes widened as they saw who was riding the Titanwing Timberjack.

“What took you so long?” Astrid mused.

“Astrid! You’re okay!” Hiccup exclaimed; relief evident in his voice. “We were so worried something bad happened to you when Stormfly came back without you and a broken leg.”

“How is she?” She asked, a worried look etched on her face.

“Fishlegs is tending to her. He said she’ll be fine as long as we keep an eye on her recovery.” Hiccup answered. Astrid let out a relieved sigh.

“Ugh, by the way, who’s this and why are you covered in blood?” Snotlout pointed at the Timberjack and then back at the bloodstained Viking warrior.

Astrid patted her new friend, “That’s Axewing, and long story short we ran into a large group of hunters capturing this poor fella, I’ll explain more to you once we’re back at the Edge.” She nudged Axewing to resume their flight back home, Hiccup and Snotlout following on their tail.

Astrid turned around and asked, “By the way, how did you find me without Stormfly?”

“I saw you flying north while I was on a flight with Toothless. We’ve flown there a couple of times in the past and there aren’t a lot of islands nearby, so our best bet to find you was to check them all.” Her betrothed responded. Astrid nodded, facing forward again.

“Hey, Astrid?” She saw Hiccup guide Toothless next to her in the corner of her eye. She looked at him with a raised eyebrow. “I’m glad you’re safe.” She smiled at him and nodded, still gazing at his beautiful green eyes.

“Ugh, enough eye-fucking already. I’m still here, do you have no sense of decency? Gods!” Snotlout’s voice resonated from behind the couple, who simply ignored him.

oOo

I don’t know if it completely fits the prompt, but that’s the idea I had. Hope you liked it!

#marchofdragons21 #Astrid Hofferson #httyd #rtte #fanfic #hiccstrid #stormfly #axewing #badasstrid #Hiccup Haddock #snotlout #fandom prompts

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snkpolls · 3 years

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SnK Episode 65 Poll Results (for Anime Only Watchers)

The poll closed with 98 responses. Thank you to everyone who participated!

Please note that these are the results for the Anime Only Watchers’ poll. If you wish to see the results for the Manga Readers’ poll, click here.

Anime only watchers, beware of spoilers if you venture over to the manga readers’ poll results.

RATE THE EPISODE 94 Responses

Although a bit muted compared to last week, the response to this episode was still overwhelmingly positive, with 96.8% of people giving it a rating of 3 and higher. MAPPA’s on a roll!

Amazing!!!!

i just wanna see more!! 20 minutes is not enough. its too good

Awesome episode! Great pacing and the cgi was not too noticeable.

WAAAAYYYYY TOO HYPE

WHICH OF THE FOLLOWING MOMENTS WAS YOUR FAVORITE? 93 Responses

Mikasa and Levi took the spotlight this week! 30.1% of viewers felt most hyped up by Mikasa’s “explosive” reintroduction to the anime, while 22.6% were stoked to see Levi take on Porco to save Eren. 18.3% were most hyped by the Survey Corps taking on the Jaw Titan and the subsequent cliffhanger.

THE CGI CONTINUES TO BE A POINT OF CONTENTION. BE HONEST, HOW DO YOU FEEL ABOUT THE EXECUTION OF CGI SO FAR THIS SEASON? 93 Responses

Just under 50% of responses seemed to indicate that they thought MAPPA was doing very well with the CGI utilized. A little over 15% stated that although it was not their favorite, they understood that it could be a lot worse. Other responses (in order) were being neutral about the CGI, not liking it, but understanding the need for its usage and folks who adamantly rejected 3D animation.

I actually prefer CGI titans because of the way their movements looks, it looks almost slower, to me it fits very well with how the big titans are. Im not an anime guy at all so ive never seen cgi in other anime but i really like the way Mappa's CGI looks, it blends in very well. I dont like CGI people though, the shot with Jean throwing the marly soldier off the rooftop i didn't like very much.

I feel horrible saying this believe me... but I really vibed with the CGI up until this episode. I think maybe because it's the first time its been used on humans (OPM) rather then titans. I'm not massively put off though, I really apreciate the efforts this episode must have taken. TY Mappa

The episode is great no doubt, my only concern is the CG personally, as a 3D artist myself, I think I would prefer an all 2D medium like the battle at Stohess. Using 3D is fine as long as it blends seamlessly to the background, like kengan ashura, it's not perfect but bearable.

I honestly think that 2D will always 100% be better than cgi but I can understand why mappa is using cgi

It was fine in the other episodes, but in this episode, it looked overused and bit bad

HOW WAS EREN’S ROOFTOP SWAN DIVE? 94 Responses

When it came down to Eren’s swan rooftop dive (“Like a fallennn angel…”), the majority seemed to be impressed, with 68% giving it a score of 4 or higher. It was not a monolithic opinion however and many seemed also rated it poorly. Do better, Eren!

WHICH RETURNING CHARACTER’S ENTRANCE WAS YOUR FAVORITE IN THIS EPISODE? 94 Responses

The Survey Corps has returned! Of these reappearances, viewers most enjoyed Mikasa’s (48.9%), Levi’s (31.9%) and Sasha’s (14.9%) the most. Jean and Connie got a little less love, though we’re sure people were still happy to see them!

WHICH RETURNING CHARACTERS HAS THE BEST GLOW UP? 93 Responses

It would appear that the slight plurality sees Mikasa as having the best glow up out of the cast, followed by (in order) Eren, Sasha, Connie, Jean, Floch and Levi. The Old Captain doesn’t like to change up his style, we suppose.

Eren didn't have a glow up- he had a glow down.

Mikasa can stomp on me please god

OF ALL THE ORIGINAL CAST, WE STILL HAVE NOT SEEM ARMIN, HANGE OR HISTORIA YET. WHICH OF THE THREE ARE YOU MOST LOOKING FORWARD TO SEEING NEXT? 93 Responses

In relation to the previous question, we still haven’t seen 3 major members of the cast. Armin, Hange and Historia. When we asked which of the three you were most looking forward to seeing next, the slight majority (52.7%) expressed their excitement for seeing Armin again, followed by 11.8% wanting to see Hange most. Some others have also expressed their desire to see Historia again. 17.2% simply could not choose and 10.8% stated that they simply didn’t care about the 3 characters.

WHAT DID YOU THINK ABOUT THE WARHAMMER TITAN? 90 Responses

The Warhammer received an overwhelmingly positive response, with the majority expressing much excitement over both its design and powers. 15.6% noted that the design was a bit too creepy for their liking, but the powers were awesome. And on the flip side, 10% noted the Titan’s design was rather cool, in contrast to its rather OP ability. A select few did not enjoy either aspect.

Would probably enjoy it more if it belonged to someone that likely is not going to be just cannon fodder

HOW DO YOU FEEL ABOUT THE NEW UNIFORMS? 92 Responses

The Survey Corps returned sporting new uniforms to much fanfare. 30.4% of respondents really enjoy the upgrade, finding the suits to be badass. 23.9% couldn’t find the words and just settled for pure hype. 20.7% enjoy the new uniforms just as much as they enjoy the classic uniforms. 12% felt it was a much needed upgrade, though 10.9% don’t care at all about the uniform change.

I like both but I prefer the old design

EREN SAYS TO MIKASA, “YOU GUYS ACTUALLY CAME.” THIS IS FOLLOWED UP BY MIKASA ASKING EREN TO COME HOME. DOES THIS INSINUATE THAT EREN WENT TO THE MAINLAND ON HIS OWN? 90 Responses

The circumstances of the Survey Corps’ presence on the mainland continues to be a mystery. When we asked about whether Eren was there alone or not a few episodes ago, the majority believed that he was either there alongside the Survey Corps or was sent there by them. Overall, the feelings seem to be the same (that Eren came alongside the Survey Corps). 45.6% think that Mikasa’s words may have some other meaning and that things are way too planned out to be coincidence. 18.9% believe that Eren did go rogue, while 15.6% think that Eren didn’t necessarily go rogue, but wasn’t working with them for a while either. The remaining 20% have already been spoiled on this particular plot point.

THE ATTACK ON LIBERIO SEEMS TO PARALLEL THE BREACH OF SHIGANSHINA. HOW DO YOU FEEL ABOUT THIS EVENT IN COMPARISON? 92 Responses

Now that both sides of the conflict have had their rude awakening, we asked how you guys felt about the two events comparatively. 33.7% feel that both attacks were tragic, but still feel more empathy toward the Eldians on Paradis than they do toward those who were raised on Marley. At a tie, 22.8% of respondents felt that the victims of the Liberio attack got what was coming with them, while another 22.8% felt about the same amount of sympathy for the victims on both sides. 10.9% feel this is way worse than what happened in Shiganshina and feel more sympathy for the victims in Liberio.

I am yet to know the goals behind this attack.

Marley did this countless times so I don’t feel bad for them. I kind of feel for eldians tho bc they are brainwashed from a young age to give up their lives for a country who doesn’t give a shit about them.

Honestly they deserve what Eren is doing to them. Excluding Falco, no one outside of Paradis has earned my sympathy, even with the additional context.

SADLY, UDO AND ZOFIA DID NOT SURVIVE THE ATTACK ON LIBERIO. HOW DO YOU FEEL ABOUT THEIR DEATHS? 91 Responses

Udo and Zofia have joined the ranks of characters who tagged along with the main cast for a while only to be killed off for character development. 25.3% anticipated at least one of them to die, but not both. Another tie on this poll, 24.2% stated that they were disappointed and was hoping to see more of them, while another 24.2% didn’t care about them at all. 14.3% are happy to ditch the focus on them in favor of more familiar characters, and 8.8% feel pure and utter devastation.

Good riddance Warrior scum

Sad but allows for Gabi’s development

sad but okay. death is common in this anime.

EREN AND FLOCH’S LAST INTERACTION IN S3 WAS A VERY TENSE ARGUMENT. NOW IT SEEMS FLOCH IS DEDICATED TO EREN’S CALL TO ACTION, SHIFTING THE “NECESSARY DEVIL” STATUS FROM ERWIN ONTO HIM. WHAT DO YOU THINK THEIR RELATIONSHIP IS LIKE NOW? 91 Responses

Eren and Floch were anything but BFF’s at the closing of season 3. Now Floch seems to be wholly devoted to Eren’s cause… What changed? 28.6% believe that nothing has actually changed in terms of their relationship, but that Floch simply just latched onto Eren’s fight in need of a new devil. 23.1% feel that they still aren’t friends, but are in more comfortable “ally” territory. 15.4% aren’t sure what to make of it. Smaller handfuls feel that they either grew to become friends and/or co-conspired to attack Liberio together. 22% are already spoiled on the details.

Floch is easily persuaded...and annoying 🤷‍♀️

WE SEE GABI GRAB THE GUARD’S FUN AFTER WITNESSING SASHA KILL HIM. WHAT DO YOU THINK MIGHT HAPPEN? 90 Responses

Gabi moves headstrong into the fight, wanting to play her part in defending her hometown. A large chunk of anime only viewers have been spoiled on future developments for her character. But for those still in the dark - 24.4% feel that she will successfully kill a member of the Survey Corps. 21.1% aren’t sure what to expect, while 10% think she will only manage to injure someone in the Survey Corps. Smaller amounts feel she won’t be successful in any capacity or may even die herself.

ADDITIONAL THOUGHTS ON THE EPISODE?

Epic episode, survey corps come back, OH YEAH, but I wished they didn’t use CGI on humans and bettered the CGI on Titans.

It really makes me sad how Eren is continuing the cycle of revenge by killing innocent Marleyan civilians, but it makes sense for his character.

Real cool ep but w h e r e a r m i n

It sucks that I like the warriors and the Corp bc both of them are victims in different way so seeing them have to go head to head sucks. They all deserve better

SO great I loved it! However, I missed Reiner, Falco, and Zeke. I hope they're okay :-) RIP Udo and Zofia :-(

I think I need more dialogue between the old crew to really settle back in with them. I kinda believe that Mappa's still trying to 'click', they obviously can't just get it right immediately. Other then that I loved the titan scenes, more than ODM scenes 😔

This was a great episode and I was literally vibrating in my seat from excitement! I think MAPPA is doing a great job with the animation and the music works really well with the action. Can’t wait for the rest of the season!

I miss wit studio

Willy seems to have his first daughter really early, he looks like 30 !

I’d say the episode as a whole is a solid 8-9/10, the cgi in some parts really ruins the moment for me

WHERE DO YOU PRIMARILY DISCUSS THE SERIES? 88 Responses

Thanks again to everyone who participated!

#snk poll #snk polls #shingeki no kyojin #attack on titan #snk #aot #snk s4

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bxllafanficc · 3 years

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What lies within our voice

Part one.

Summary: The hottest current singing competition in your country; Beyond The Voice, is taking contestants for this years new season. And you’re competing, something you’ve dreamed of since you were a little kid. Your best friend Natasha joins you on your audition day with the assurance that everything’s going to go just as planned. As in; you preform, get all the standing ovations from the jury and then you go out to celebrate. But it doesn’t quite work like that, does it? Especially not when a handsome blue eyed singer with angelic pipes (and dare I say, jackass?) enters the competition and gives you some serious problems; both on a competitive and on a personal level.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

Warnings: implied smut, smut later on as the story progresses, Bucky’s kind of a prick at first glance, Natasha being cringeworthy,

Anyone will have to believe you when you say that you’re meant for this.

“Girl, you’re going to kill this! You’re the best singer here. The judges will find you irresistible!”

The stage and the cheer of a crowd is where you feel at home. Like you could do anything you put your mind to. If you only got the chance to show the world what you got to offer. That you belong on stage, to please a crowd.

That’s why you’re here. At the large entrance hall of the largest arena in your country, ready to perform your heart out at this years season of the hottest contest currently in the making; Beyond The Voice. The competition that will be your awakening as the artist you’ve dreamed to be for so long. Because already as a little girl, you used to sit in front of the tv with your best friend since diapers; Natasha. And oh, how you loved B.T.V. From the first season ever all the way to where you’re standing now. Here, ready to be a part of something you’ve set as a goal since years back. And so you have come here and along with you, brought your best friend so that you can live the dream together now all grown up.

“I have a hard time believing that, Nat. There are so many talented and attractive people here who want this too. And I don’t doubt for a second that there will be a lot of people putting on their best efforts here tonight.”

You scan the large groups of people in the hall, some pacing around nervously, others sitting down on benches and some awkwardly attempting to put on their best sides of themselves as the camera team sneaks through the crowds to shoot some interviews with the contestants.

The camera team has already been filming their interview with you, and if you should say it yourself, you had done the best possible out of the situation. To be yourself. No faces and no strained jokes, just plain you, unlike some of the other contestants you had seen earlier who seemingly failed to acknowledge the fabric of their shirt hiding their cleavage noticeably sliding down their shoulders until the producers felt the urge to cut because they ‘would need to censor that out’ somehow.

“Puh-lease! No one wants this as much as you do. And sure, there may be great singers here today, but no one has the pure and raw talent like you. Most of the people we’ve seen so far is clearly showing in their voices that they’ve taken dozens of singing lessons, and some not at all. Everyone here started out as a rookie but not you. You were born with it. I can confirm since I’ve known you so long. See, the only other people here skilled enough to put you up for a challenge is that guy performing for the jury right now. Look! He’s like the hunkier more brooding version of Josh Groban!”

You look towards the big screen displaying everything that’s going on in the auditions room. Right now there’s a guy in a deep blue suit performing “Being alive” originally sung by Stephen Sondheim from the musical Company; a classic and and a regularity when it comes to audition songs. Not a choice you would’ve gone with because of everyone before this man who’s chosen the song on previous seasons of Behind The Voice. But maybe his choice might just make this performance a success. That voice is unlike any other contestant you’ve seen today and those blue eyes are definitely moneymakers on their own. A handsome man to be sure, Nat wasn’t joking around with her comparison. And the look on the female judges faces reveals that the sexy mysterious persona he’s putting on is working its magic on them.

“Make me confused, mock me with praise. Let me be used, vary me days.”

“Goodness, that vibrato is to die for! There’s no effort displayed on his face what so ever and completely free from strained vocals or any muffled sounds from accidentally switching back to using his nose as support!”

“Right?! Maybe he’s good enough for my best gal right here? Why don’t you give it a try?” Nat elbows you and makes a rather inappropriate finger motion with her hands as her eyebrow raises and sinks in a provocative manner.

You quickly squeal with disapproval at her and slap her hands away, afraid that someone in the hall, or worse, the camera crew, had caught her little message.

“You know I’m too busy with focusing on my career for that kind of stuff. And he’s most likely to be my most skilled rival so far!”

“Somebody crowd me with love, somebody force me to care. Somebody let me come through, I’ll always be there, as frightened as you, to help us survive...”

The song finishes and the crowd in the hall is overwhelming with cheers and blowing whistles. It’s four yes out of four possible from the jury; a crystal clear win.

The man who just performed and the jury can clearly hear the crowd’s chanting from inside the studio, because everyone is glancing at the door with a low snicker.

“Next up, contestant #70!” One of the managers shouts from an opened door in the hall.

Your number is #71, which means your up after the shocked young girl beside you who were too caught up in the man singing just now that she completely forgot to prepare herself.

You stand up as well and make your way towards the door leading into the corridors of the audition’s studio, just to prepare yourself a little extra. Nat follows along and whispers encouraging nothings into your ear. She pats your shoulder and bumps into your crimson colored les paul hanging strapped inside its case on your back.

Right, you failed to mention your own audition song in the interview (and the genre you’ll be singing.)

You like to label yourself as a rock singer who also plays the electric guitar in the songs you perform. So you’ve carefully chosen the song “Anastasia” made by Slash, Myles Kennedy and The Conspirators. You’ve requested the assigned go-to band for this song because it simply can’t be done by just a guitar and a voice. Your song of choice is also going to give the judges the full feeling of how a concert later on with you as their star would look like. The vocals are great, showing off a lot of control but not too complicated so there’s room enough to blow the crowd and judge’s minds later on in the competition. The guitar isn’t essential for a singing competition like this but to aggregate with playing the guitar and singing at the time always gain some extra points since the judges will understand that your multitasking abilities will come in handy if and when a casual error or scene malfunction occurs in the life as an artist.

Of course you sing other genres as expected from you in this competition, but rock will forever be your go-to genre if you’re out to bedazzle the crowd or just want to dance your heart out in the living room (aggressive head banging is included).

But in your current situation, you had been so caught up in your own plans and preparation that you failed to acknowledge the man standing in front of you until it’s too late and you bump into something broad and rock hard.

The stranger gets pushed forwards and his friend catches him before he tumbles too far. A pair of blue eyes turns around to glare at you with a raised eyebrow.

“I’m so sorry! I was just-“ You stop and silence yourself. It’s the previous contestant with the angelic voice; and he does not look pleased.

“Shouldn’t a person competing in such a high prestige competition be aware of their surroundings always and watch where they’re going?” The man speaks up and turns to face you entirely, his blonde friend standing right beside him. Nat comes to join your side when she senses the tension going on.

“I... excuse me, I was just so caught up in my on thoughts that I didn’t notice you. People make mistakes and I’m sorry. It’s not that big of a deal.”

You fold your arms and try to flash a genuine smile at the stranger but he doesn’t seem affected by your words.

“So you’re a little self absorbed, you say? That’s not a personality trait I would go with in a competitive area like this but you do you, I guess.”

Is this man for real? He seemed like such a genuine and open guy when he sang but now when he’s in front of you, he’s just an asshole. Guess that’s what they call on point stage presence then.

“Hey now handsome, Aren’t you being a little rude to my friend? It was actually nothing more than a simple mistake. There’s nothing to feel personal about if your feelings got hurt. Happens to anybody.” Nat joins in and defends you, but she’s not paying attention to the blue eyed prick in front of her, but she’s eying the tall blondie beside him with careful eyes.

“Yeah, whatever.” The man answers with a huff and leaves, his friend following right behind him. As you watch them go, Blondie seemingly scolds his friend about something, though you never catch the response of your now-rival.

“Well that’s a waste. A beautiful brunette with magical eyes but on the inside he’s just a bastard with low-dick-energy.” Nat mumbles and snorts, pushing you towards the corridors you originally planned to make your way to. You giggle in response and bite your lip.

“With an attitude like that to a lady, he couldn’t possibly afford having a small dick, Nat. It must be pretty huge if it’s gonna make up for his frame of mind.”

Well, at least it’s not a must to befriend the other contestants, because then you would be forced into some kind of team building exercise with Mr. Jackass. The last thing you needed right now was excessive negativity in your life.

“Yeah, you go (Y/n)! Dab on them haters!” Nat yells and proceeds to do the dabbing motion with a cheerful expression.

The crowds standing near the two of you suddenly fall silent and eyes you with a judgements stare.

“Don’t you ever do that in public again or I will-“

“Contestant #71, you’re up!

The crowd stops glaring at you and shifts to clap their hands with encouragement, some even shouts stuff like ‘You can do this!’ Or ‘Go inside and kick some ass!’

You’re heart immediately takes two turns and beats like crazy in your chest; something it always does right before when you’re about to preform. Much to your gratitude, it always rolls off of you like a waterfall the second you start to sing.

‘This is your chance, (Y/n). You have to prove to everyone in the hall, to Nat, to yourself, to Jackass Ocean eyes, and most importantly the judges, that you’ve earned your right to be on this program and on television. Tonight we focus on getting the judges’ approval, tomorrow, a new goal will be set.’ The internal speech you go through with yourself echoes through your eardrums as you step into the audition’s studio and into the camera’s view.

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balledjely · 4 years

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Weight of the World

Part 3 - Desperate

A bakugou x reader fic where you’re an apprentice of Ragdoll, from the famous Wild, Wild Pussycats (Part 1)

When you come to, you can feel straps on your arms and legs. Your roll you head back, a wave of dizziness hitting as soon as you open your eyes. You can’t help but mutter a curse as you try to adjust to the fucked up state of your body. A few deep breaths later, you try to open your eyes again.

You’re in a small, dimly lit room. The walls are lined with brick, and there’s a small bar towards the back. Then, you notice the small line up of villains, the one who attacked you is among them.

There’s another villain who catches your attention. He’s got blue hair, and he’s watching you with some sick sort of interest. When your gazes lock, you narrow your eyes. He smiles.

“So you’re awake?” His voice is gravely and sick sounding. It’s as if he’d been smoking cigarettes since he was five. “Sorry to keep you out for so long, your friend here wouldn’t give us any information on you. We couldn’t wake you until we had some sort of idea of who you were.”

Your heart stops at the mention of ‘your friend’. When you follow his gaze you notice Bakugou glaring daggers from the opposite end of the room. Automatically you rake your eyes over him, searching for any kind of injury.

“Bakugou? Are you okay?” When you speak, your voice is strained. How long had you been out? The other villains perk up when they hear you.

“Like hell I’d let these losers injure me.” He’s angry as always. You take comfort in the fact that the villains hadn’t done anything to break his spirit. Though, his loud voice does make your head hurt. Apparently, you’d been out for at least a day because you could feel how little water was left in your body. If you don't get some water in your body soon, you’re going to be down for the count.

The blue haired villain looks slightly annoyed at the fact you ignored him, but he brushes it off quickly. “We were just telling him why we brought the two of you here. We thought you’d want to hear.”

You don’t answer him. Either you could tell them to go fuck themselves, or you could see how far you could bargain with them. You could play along, at least for a little while. Maybe you could convince them to let Bakugou go

“This society that the heroes created is shameful.” He goes on a little rant, talking about how people are cast out from society. You resist the urge to wrinkle your nose in disgust. You had to play this right. He finishes his speech by asking the two of you to join him.

“Like hell!” Bakugou barks out, but you take a moment before you respond. You sigh. Bakugou definitely wouldn’t play along, even if it kept him alive. That meant you’d have to get him out of here before these villains start to lose their temper.

These villains are smart. They know you won’t switch to their side this easily. You had to be honest, otherwise they’d know exactly what you’re doing. You glance over at Bakugou and then back to the villains. You lower your eyes, doing your best to make it seem like you’re mulling it over.

“Bakugou won’t do what you want,” you say with a sigh. “No matter what you do. But, if you let him go I’ll join you.”

“Are you fucking stupid? I can handle myself, dipshit!” He screams from his side of the room. You don’t look at him. Can’t he tell you’re trying to save his life?

“That was a pretty quick switch…” the villain that’s body is a weird form of black gas mutters. You look away, “I only became a hero to protect the people I love.” That wasn’t quite a lie, but it wasn’t entirely true either. “I don’t really care what happens as long as they're safe.”

The blue haired villain is quiet for a moment before nodding to the villain in the black and white skin-tight suit. “Twice, undo her restraints.”

You watch quietly as the villain approaches you, kneeling take the cuffs off your wrists. Once everything is removed, you stand up. The world sways and you try desperately to keep your cool. You couldn’t let on to how sick you were. At that point, your threats would mean nothing.

Luckily for you, they don’t seem to pick up on just how messed up you are. “Him too.” You look over at Bakugou, praying that he behaves himself. “If you hurt him, I’ll fight too. I’m sure the two of us could do some damage to your little team.”

The blue haired villain doesn’t think for very long before nodding to Twice to remove Bakugou’s restraints. Once he does, explosions immediately erupt from that side of the

room. From the looks of it, the villains already expected this.

One of them, the one who attacked you earlier takes a step towards him. Immediately you stick your hand out to stop him. “Don’t you touch him. I’ll get him to calm down-”

You’re cut off by Bakugou’s yelling. “Don’t just talk about me like I’m not here!” His eyes sweep over the room, searching for a way out. “I don’t need protection.” He growls.

Internally, you want to apologize. You didn’t know Bakugou all that well, but it still hurt to act like you didn’t care. This wasn’t his normal anger. This was different. It was a sort of calm, which made it all the more terrifying.

All of a sudden, he grabs the collar of your shirt, yanking you backwards harshly. You stumble back into his chest, where he brings his hand down around your stomach to keep you steady. Your head spins at the sudden movements.

“Don’t try to do that self-sacrificial bullshit with me. I’m not so weak that you have to die for me.” You expect him to be yelling, but his voice is softer. Lower, so that villains can’t hear him.

“They wouldn’t-” You go to defend yourself, but he cuts you off with a huff. You don’t try to talk anymore. At this point, your vision has settled enough for you to stand without his help.

The blue haired villain goes to say something, but before he can there’s a knock on the door. Everyone freezes, and a moment later the wall to your right is caving in.

You try to blink the dirt out of your eyes, and when you do you see the towering form of All Might. No one gets the chance to react as another pro uses his quirk to restrain the villains. You let out a deep sigh of relief.

After threatening the villains with a classic All Might Speech, he turns his attention to Bakugou. “You must’ve been scared. I’m sorry, but I am here now.” He’s kind with his words, but you can see Bakugou’s face twist with anger.

“I wasn’t scared! I was calm the whole time.” He’s back to yelling, but there’s much less seriousness in his tone. That gives you comfort. His anger towards you was practically forgotten.

All Might just gives Bakugou a smile, and then turns to you. “I’m sorry that you got caught up in all this, young (y/n).” It takes you a moment to respond, as your mind is only filled with the thought of ‘he knows my name!’

“Don’t worry about me, I’m fine.” You respond automatically, though you really weren’t. The sound of the wall caving was making your head pound so much you could hardly see straight, but you didn’t want to worry him. You could get that taken care of later.

Your attention is drawn to that same villain, the one All Might called Tomura. He’s muttering something, and as his voice gets louder you can just make out what he’s saying.

“Justice, peace…” His voice gets louder, until he’s almost yelling. “You created such a garbage society by holding up such ideals. Your kid there agrees.” His gaze lands on you, as do the rest of the gazes in the room.

“Oh please,” you snarl, “Like hell I’d believe shit like that. I only planned on waiting til the heroes got here. Looks like I stalled long enough.”

Even though you’re not looking at him, you can feel All Might’s surprise to hear you speak so harshly. Even in the few minutes you spent with the group, you still had an endless supply of pent up anger toward them. Unlike Bakugou you had to bottle it up to try and keep yourself safe. But not that that was over, you didn’t have to hold back.

All of a sudden you’re choking. For a moment you think that your nasua has gotten the best of you, but whatever was coming up your throat was not vomit. It was thick, and slimy. Your body automatically begins to wrench it up, and beside you you can hear Bakugou coughing too. Your panicked eyes meet All Might’s as the substance envelopes your body.

And then, your feet hit cracked concrete. The bar is gone, replaced with the cold night air. Wherever you are is covered in debris, but Bakugou is there with you. As well as all of the other villains.

“What the hell?” Bakugou chokes out, voice rough. He glances at you, taking a moment to check you over. You give him a small smile to show that you’re doing alright.

“I’m sorry about that,” This time it’s a new villain speaking. He’s got some sort of life support machine strapped to him. You don’t know what it is, but you feel the need to be as far from him as possible. He seemed like he wouldn’t hesitate to kill you.

The villain turns his attention to Tomura, the blue haired villain. As he speaks, you tune him out slightly. You take this as a chance to try and find a way out while now one's focused on you. You look for a busted pipe, a puddle, anything at all. But there’s nothing.

You see something in the distance, and as it rapidly gets closer you can make out the colors of All Might’s hero costume. Before you can blink he’s crashing against the main villain. The force of the wind knocks you back, scraping your skin against the concrete.

Your vision gets blurry again, and another wave of nausea hits you. It takes you a couple moments to recover. When you push yourself up, you're pleased to find that you don’t have any major cuts. Nothing besides the constant headaches that have been plaguing you since you awoke.

You try to locate Bakugou through all the dust in the air. Once you do, you stumble towards him. When you look back towards All Might and the villain he called All For One, All Might is blasted backwards through a line of buildings.

Fuck, you think to yourself. He knocked All Might back that far with just his bare hands. You were right, this guy was beyond dangerous.

One for All turns to Tomura. “Get off the battlefield,” he says, his ice cold eyes landing on your form in the dirt. “Take the children with you.”

At that, you tense. In your current state you couldn’t fend off all six villains. And to Bakugou, you’d just be dead weight. You turn to him, and thankfully you’re close enough that the villains won’t hear you talk.

“I can’t do much in my state, I’ll let them take me.” You speak fast, knowing there isn’t much time. This was the best plan you had at the moment. He looks furious that you’d even suggest something like that.

“Are you stupid? That’s not happening.”

Panic swells inside you. Why can’t he just listen? This is the best way to keep him safe. “I’ll only weigh you down. You can get yourself out of here!” You plead with him, but he only seems to get angrier. “They won’t kill me!”

“Shut up! I’m not leaving you here, dumbass. What, you think I can’t-” he cuts himself off as his eyes focus on something behind you. You don’t get to question him, because he grabs you before you get the chance.

He uses his other palm to propel the two of you backwards. At the sudden force, you instinctively clutch onto him. Through your spinning vision, you can see two of the villains approaching from behind.

You rip water out of your body through your palm, sending a few shards of ice to knock them away. Blood runs down your arm, a shallow, but large hole left where you forced water out of your body.

At the loss of more water, your dehydration gets worse. The world spins, and you tuck your head into Bakugou’s shoulder. You don’t even care that you’re doing something so intimate, at this point you’re just trying so keep yourself steady.

“Don’t kill yourself, I got this.” His voice is much softer now. He’s calm. You didn’t know he was capable of that. He wraps an arm around you to keep him from dropping you as he fires out another blast.

Across the clearing, you can make out All Might’s voice. He’s calling out to the two of you, but his voice is strained. He’s struggling. The thought makes your heart pound. You’ve never seen All Might like this - afraid. Even though he was hiding it you could sense it in his tone. All Might was scared. If All Might was scared, that meant the two of you were in real trouble.

When you look up, the world is blurry. You try again and again to focus your vision but you can’t. At this point, you know that you’re not going to last much longer.

“Bakugou just go, it’s better if only one of us is captured. They can get me at a different time.” Although you try, you can’t hide the desperation in your voice. He doesn’t even react to your pleas, he just ignores you.

“You need water for you quirk, right?”

You look up, vision swirling. “Yeah-” you’re cut off by him sending off another explosion. He brings you to a corner of the battlefield, gently placing you on your feet.

You smile, to your right is a busted pipe with water leaking out. Just what you need. With a glance behind you, you see that the villains are getting close. This is your chance. You could use the water to cut the villains off from Bakugou.

“Get yourself somewhere safe!.” When you say this, his eyes go wide. But, before he can react, you rip water from the pipe. It tears through the metal from how hard you force it out. There’s a lot of it, so you can make the wall fairly tall. You freeze the water as quickly as you can, leaving the form jagged and messy.

You can hear Bakugou yelling from the other side, but you’re too distracted by the villains who're getting too close for comfort. When you turn around, you see Tomura, with his group close behind. They’re closing in.

“Does our deal still stand?” You try to keep your fear from leaking out into your voice, but you can’t. Tomura gets closer, and you press your back against the ice wall. At this point you can nearly focus on him.

You know you can’t fight right now. And if you were to try and use water to defend yourself, you wouldn’t be able to move. In the short time it would take for you to do something, he’d already have you. You couldn’t use your quirk, you had to move and you had to move now.

“We don’t need liars in our group.” He’s too close. Much too close. He reaches a hand out towards your neck. You don’t know what his quirk is, but you know that you don’t want him to touch you. The ice digs into your back as you try as hard as you can to stay away from him.

Your legs shake and your vision goes blurry as you dart to the side. “I don’t think you want a dead kid...on your reputation…” You can hardly get the words out, but it’s the best you can do.

“Actually, it’d be pretty helpful.”

And then, Bakugou blasts his way through the wall. The blast sends shards of ice flying, forcing the villain to jump back. “Why the hell did you make that so thick?” He yells as he grabs you and drags you to him.

The action makes your vision spin, but you respond. “To try and save you! What are you doing?”

He doesn’t answer, and instead looks up. You follow his gaze, only to see a streak of green light. When it gets closer you see Izuku, Kirishima, and Iida flying across the sky. All of a sudden, Bakugou wraps an arm around you and launches the two of you up into the air.

You tip your leg back so it rakes over the ice wall. While the two of you blast into the sky, you use shards of ice to keep the villains from following. Bakugou grabs onto Kirishima’s arm and your grip onto him tighter.

When you’re in the air, you roll your head back. Muttering cursed as more and more nausea washes over you. Bakugou shifts you in his arms and gently pushes your head into his chest to keep you from having to watch the whirlwind of colors go by.

As you try to block out the feeling of all this motion, you can hear Izuku’s concerned voice from above you. “Is she alright?”

“Yeah dude, what did they do to her?”

“I didn’t let them do shit to her! It’s from her quirk.” You can feel Bakugou’s voice rumble in his chest. You’re surprised that he gathered that much, seeing as you didn’t tell him anything.

“Should we get her to a hospital?” This time it’s Iida who’s talking. You really want to have some input, to at least explain, but you’re too focused on trying to stay conscious.

“Are you fucking stupid? Yes, we need to get her to a damn hospital!” The yelling makes his chest rumble even more, which brings you at least a little entertainment. Once the three of them stop talking, you can hear Bakugou’s heartbeat. It makes you feel safe, like maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to just let go for a bit. So you do.

#bnha x you #bnha x oc #bnha x reader #katsuki bakugo imagine #bakugo x reader #katsuki x y/n #bakugou katsuki #bakugo x y/n #bakugo x you

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savysavannah · 3 years

Text

Practice Challenge one: Part One

Beginnings:

“Fuck!” I yelled and slammed my hands against the steering wheel. This wasn’t the first time I’d had a total mental breakdown in the dim lighting of the courthouse parking lot, and it sure wasn’t gonna be the last. This case was rigged from the get-go, Mr. Dean esquire was always there against me, swaying the jury with his charismatic personality and his masculine gender. Not to mention it was a jury which he decided to leave fully as white men, his fellow groupies against my defendant, a woman of color who defended herself against her abuser who came at her with a gun.

I took a deep breath and closed my eyes. Opening them I saw Dean sashaying to his car. I considered putting my own in reverse and waiting until he just walked by, then bye bye Dean. Deciding that it wouldn’t be worth the cost of defending myself I waited until after he’d passed to pull out and start to drive to Illean Private University. I was an attorney coach for a Mock Trial team and of course, had to encourage these kiddos that law was the best career and it would really be fulfilling to help people. Driving past the Greek life houses I couldn’t help but smile thinking of happier times. Chugging shitty beer, dressed like a total slut and not giving one single fuck.

After an hour or two of bullshitting some kids and reminding them to object when someone playing a witness says “well I heard the defendant say he was mad at the victim so he must have killed her.” I drove on my way home.

“Incoming call from Uncle Dipshit'' said my car, continuing the never ending day that is my life.

“What?”

“Hey little Savy-Hannah, I’m in a bit of a bind and need some help.”

“What was it? Cocaine? Meth? Or did you finally snap and get caught with heroin.”

“Come on, Savannah, why would you just assume that, can’t I call my one and only niece because I wanna talk to her?”

“At 11pm? Friday night? Bullshit.”

“.......fine Sav-”

“Fuck you, I’m not doing probono work for you anymore. Get your shit together or get the fuck out of our lives.”

Taking a turn away from my apartment I started to head for Lux, my old usual club. I hadn’t gone in awhile but right now I needed to get absolutely shitfaced. 8 shots and 2 waters later I was grinding up against some strangers to Kesha’s “Die Young”, a classic. Suddenly I heard an all too familiar voice, “Savannah!”

My brother. Specifically, my oldest brother, Dan. He danced his way over to me of course being in this scene and grabbed my wrist. “Wha-u wan dan?” I slurred and kept jumping to the song.

“I was worried about you, Ricky called and said you were acting weird.”

“Weird!" I laughed throwing my head back "Because I wouldn’t clean up his shit for once!” I screamed over the music before he pulled me out of the club by the wrist. As soon as the cool air hit my cheeks I leaned my head back and looked up at the sky.

“I wish I was a star." I mumbled seeing the shimmering lights above us before suddenly leaning forward and hurling all over the cement. Probably a usual occurrence for Lux but I still felt bad. Dan rolled down the windows of my car as he drove me home, I stuck my head out of it for the breeze to feel the air in my lungs.

“How’d you find me?” I mumbled, still not fully back to myself.

“We all have eachothers phone locations, remember? You insisted on it like a year ago after you interned on that kidnapping case.” He sighed as we drove up the familiar road home.

“You’re really a mess you know that?” He asked. It's not like he was much better….well, he was but it's not like I'm our brother Danny. At least I made something of myself. Didn't get handed my career and a wife on a silver platter. Or like Daniel who was still so far back into the closet that we really aren't sure if he'll ever come out, even though our family would be more than accepting of him.

I was tempted to defend myself but stopped, “I know, I just need a win."

The next morning Dan was sleeping on my couch and I was on the living room floor. “You couldn’t have carried me to bed?” I mumbled through a yawn.

“You’re the dumbass who got white girl wasted and said you were too tired to walk to your room.”

“What time is it?” I mumbled and went to find my phone despite the world swaying as I crawled to my purse.

He lifted his arm up to look at his watch, “Like 8:00am chill out.” He groaned.

“HOLY FUCK 8?” I flinched at the loudness of my own voice. I was normally up at six, two hours slept in, what’s today it’s a wednesday. ‘What was I supposed to do today? No clients in court today, so that’s good. Okay so I suppose I have to? Paperwork?’

I sighed, “You’re fucking lucky I didn’t have court today.” Stumbling up I ran to my room to change out of yesterday's clothes, splash some water on my face and get on the move.

"Lucky? I'm the one who got your ass home at all!" He yelled back from the living room as I slipped into a different skirt. Shirt could stay the same, just a plain white shell no one would notice. But skirt absolutely not. I grabbed a pair of earrings and a bag of makeup wipes and rushed past Dan.

"Fine sorry love ya. Family dinner on saturday right?" I hurried as I slung a purse over my shoulder.

"You got it." He replied.

"Uh, stay awhile have breakfast if you want. I've got bagels and eggs. Just lock up when you leave." I remembered finally to be polite as he stretched getting up from the sofa.

The office was busy and loud as usual. I tried to smile and act like I wasn't hungover as holy hell while I walked to my desk.

There was someone new taking a desk near me too. Lanky guy probably straight out of law school too. I sized him up for a moment before nearly catching his eye but going back to my work.

It wasn't till lunch that I had to actually deal with another human when I ran into Mr. Asshole-dean.

"Ms. Mars?" He said as he tapped my shoulder in line at the starbucks near the courthouse.

I turned but knew his voice right away, "Mr. Dean?" I replied wondering why he was bothering me. He seemed to catch my cold tone.

"What, rough night? Does suck the night you lose the case but don't worry. You'll get better at losing, can't win em all."

I would like to get an extra extra hot- you know what make it just a cup of fucking lava to poor on this jackass. I smiled, "Thanks! I'm sure it didn't take you long to get used to it." I gave a passive aggressive smile and looked down to my watch.

"Listen, Mars, I know we're opposing counsel but I don't mean any harm by it. I think we could be great friends if you'd give it a shot. I mean I'm sure we both hate our jo-"

"Hi I'd like a venti mocha!" I ordered cutting him off the scurried back to my car.

I had a few hours before I actually had a meeting. It was just to speak with a judge over a custody case between a homophobic mother and two "really good friends" one of who was the father of the child in question. There was a chance it could turn into a serious case, the mom was wealthy and if she got too displeased she could probably turn it into a civil suit on the grounds of the father being gay. But it wasn't likely she'd take the time. She was only really fighting for custody to use their kid as a weapon in the divorce.

I drove home with my coffee deciding I wanted to Pad Thai leftovers I had as comfort/hangover/please-god-dont-make-me-live-another-day food.

Daniel was sitting on my couch when I walked in. "Can you not just walk into my house? Dan may have forgotten to lock it but that's no reason for you to just waltz in here!" I yelled as I dropped my purse and walked up to him.

"Is that my mail?" I huffed and snatched my letters from him. It was just junk mail but he still had no right to be so intrusive.

He looked up at me with a slight glare, "I know what you did and I'm gonna get you back for it." And as quickly as he came he scurried out.

Ringing up Dan I tapped my foot on the ground, "You forgot to lock the door!" I yelled into the phone.

"Oh shit my bad. You okay?" He asked.

"Yes, but Daniel was just here. All pissed over something." I grumbled and walked to the fridge to get out my leftovers.

"Any idea of what?" He asked.

"No clue." I answered.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“No, don’t call anyone. Listen, they record everything but our conversations for confidentiality, if you call someone it’s possible that they might somehow be involved and we don’t want prosecution to get that- understand?” I hated explaining the basics to my clients, but those dumbassses would sign their own sentences if they didn’t know any better.

I walked up to the courthouse, in one hand I had my phone, the other a black coffee from the starbucks across the street, my work back slung over my shoulder and threatened to slide lower onto my arm. As I turned the corner I was suddenly burning with hot coffee against my chest and a stranger staring down at me as I had run right into him,

“FUCK!” I yelled as I stepped back. My heel slipped in a crack on the sidewalk, the top of it snapping it too causing me to fall back, my head hitting the hard concrete.

When I opened my eyes again he was standing over me. It was the new guy who sat across from me. "Don't worry I called an ambulance." He assured. I was going to sit up but as I pieced the situation together I realized I was no longer wearing a shirt. Instead I had his blazer placed over my top. I assume because of the burning coffee which would have been sitting on my torso had he not.

He rode in the ambulance to the hospital. We sat in awkward silence as I tried to figure out his angle. Was he afraid I'd sue. I was the one who bumped into him. Did he wanna ask me questions about our workplace. It'd been a month or so since he'd arrived though so that wouldn't make sense.

He sat next to me at the hospital and was still there when the doctor told me it was a light concussion and a small burn. He sighed, finally not seeming like a stiff board for a moment. Maybe he was scared I'd sue. I turned to him in the hospital bed when we had a moment alone.

"Why are you here?" I asked.

He blushed and looked down mumbling a bit as he said "I just wanted to make sure you were okay. I wouldn't be able to work anyways till I knew." My eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

"Why? I'm the one that bumped into you?" I asked.

He was about to respond when the brigade of brothers came in. He seemed startled at all the sudden male energy in the room. "Ah, these are my brothers Dan, Danny, and Daniel. Daniel is a family name." I added the common addition when introducing them to anyone.

He stood up and shook Dan's hand firmly "Nicholas Lamia." He said. I realized then that I also didn't know his name. Danny started to get suspicious as he looked at him with antagonizing eyes.

"How do you know our sister?" He asked. Nicholas flushed again and tried to find words for a moment.

"We work together. He's the one who called the ambulance." Daniel set a balloon down next to me that he'd gotten at the gift shop.

We hadn't really spoken since his home break in. I still don't know what that was about. But he's been suspicious since. Once they released me Nicholas went on his way and the Mars siblings stood on the sidewalk and considered where to go.

"Should we get sushi? It's been a moment since we hung out without mom and dad." Dan suggested leading the conversation.

"Hmm, works for me. Samantha's out of town for work." Danny chimed in.

I sighed thinking about all the work I still had to do. But it had been a minute since we hung out for fun, and cucumber rolls wouldn't be too bad right about now. "Sure I'm in." I replied.

"You?" Danny asked Daniel.

He mumbled for a moment with the same guilty look, "no, I don't th-"

Suddenly Danny got him in a headlock, "come on even Savy agreed and she'd rather eat shit than waste time." He joked. I rolled my eyes and we all piled into Dan's car.

The waitress led us up to a small booth towards the back. At first I was going to sit next to Daniel but the blaring TV would send me down a spiral. There was a government program on and as soon as that shit for an heir came on I'd be fuming about how we're leaving the lives of multiple disadvantaged people to a boy who did body shots off a Delta Nu on a thursday night. I wasn’t exactly sure if that story was true, but it wouldn’t surprise me based off of what I’d seen from more credible sources than Lucy in the room down that hall at the sorority house who was gushing about how she wished it could be her. Prince Eaton went to the University of Labrador with us and she was hopeful that he would do it but sadly, no.

Dan saw my eyes lingering on the TV and switched sides of the booth with me. We were just about finished and considering desert when I began to notice the glances and smirks. I wiped with a napkin thinking maybe I had some rice on my face, but they continued nonetheless. It wasn’t like creepy guys smirking either, it was everyone. The air felt different and Daniel looked like he was going to be sick. “What?” I asked as he opened his mouth.

It looked like he was about to say something but couldn’t find the words. Dan opened to speak too, “Savannah, we didn’t think you’d ge-”

“Oh my gosh congratulations on being selected! Would you like a desert? Everything is on the house of course!” The waitress smiled.

I looked up at her as if she were speaking German. “Congratulations on what?” I asked.

“On being selected! They were just announced, are you so excited? Could I also get a photo by any chance! The next queen of Illea could be sitting at my booth!” She cheered.

The world slowed as my mind raced selected? Like The selection selected? I didn’t apply? I didn’t want to apply? How did I even get entered? What did Daniel want to tell me? Did Daniel do this? Was this his revenge for what?

I snapped out of it as Dan called my name. “I’m sorry. I have to step out for a moment.” I said and grabbed my purse running out of the restaurant, feeling everyone watching me. I walked to the side of the building and pressed my back against the cold brick panting. I crumbled inwards as my brothers ran over to me. I took a deep breath in,

“I don’t”

another breath

“understand.”

Suddenly a man with a long lens camera appeared. How did that happen so fast? How did he know what she looked like? Stupid your Savannah Mars it’s not like you’re a nobody your grandpa runs the largest candy company in the world.

“Can you back off?” I heard Dan ask him.

He kept ignoring Dan entirely, that is till Dan pushed his camera out of focus. “What the fuck man? Chill.” The creep said and went to shove Dan. Level headed Dan of course responded by punching him in the face.

We all piled into his car and drove to my house. I sat in the car ride silent and waited for someone to speak. No one did but Daniel still looked like he was going to throw up. We all sat on the sofa in continued silence. Only Dan spoke to offer everyone water.

No one said yes to it but a cup appeared in front of each of us anyways, always the responsible older brother.

I inhaled then finally said, “I’m not mad. I just want to know why?” and looked at Daniel. It was clear by now that he was the culprit.

He sat there in silence, his lip whimpering like he wanted to cry. Like he wanted to cry? If anyone’s going to cry it should be me. Suddenly I lunged at him to get in a hit. Only Danny’s arm stopped mine from smashing into his face.

“Why?” I yelled.

“I thought you made a gay dating profile for me.” He whimpered.

“What?” I asked, even more confused than before.

Dan spoke up, “Danny made a gay dating profile for him to try and give him a little push. When he got mad he said it was you who did it.”

“I just saw the letter sitting there and it seemed like the perfect way to get back at you for meddling in my love life. I was just gonna taunt you with submitting it, then Dan told me it was Danny but he said you wouldn’t get in and you’d just never know.” Daniel explained.

“Well, statistically speaking you shouldn’t have.” He defended. My anger shifted to the brother holding me back. If Danny had teased Daniel about his sexuality none of this would have happened. But I couldn’t do anything with him still holding my wrist.

I stood from the sofa and the brothers stood as well. “I’m going to go get changed.” The second they relaxed I turned and charged at Danny. “You fucking bitch!” I yelled and started to pull at his hair. He didn’t fight back but Daniel panicked and Dan rushed over. I was yanked off of him before I could make any real damage but he did look hurt enough.

“How could you! Just minding your own fucking business could have avoided this whole thing! And Daniel!” I yelled and turned. “Don’t fucking get vengeance especially not without communicating!”

The phone started to ring. It was probably about the selection. I huffed over ready to say, “Hi, yes this is Savannah Mars. No, I would not like to participate, please pull someone else.” But as I picked up the phone I realized something. Daniel would have had to forge my signature. In order to apply for me he had to sign a contract. If I say I want out I would have to prove I didn’t agree to begin with. That would mean proving the false signature. Which is by the way, illegal.

I sighed, held the phone to my ear. “Yes this is she. I’m so excited to be selected and am more than happy to discuss a time for you to send your people over.”

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winchesterbrotherstan · 4 years

Text

Supernatural- Bloody Mary (1.05)

Pairing: N/A, Olive Winchester (OC)

Summary: An old classic rears its ugly head, Dean kicks into big brother overdrive mode, Sam and Olive each deal with hard truths

Warnings: Mentions of death, cursing, crying, blood, very brief mention of like kidnap/non-con or whatever you interpret it as. not specific but could definitely be seen at that, etc

Word Count: 6696

“Sams, wake up.” I shook the writhing boy.

He shot out of his sleep. He sat up and looked around before sighing. We had been in the hospital parking lot for the last fifteen minutes, and Sam’s nightmare persisted.

“I take it I was having a nightmare.”

Dean nodded. “Yeah, another one.”

Sam shrugged. “Hey, at least I got some sleep.”

Dean and I shared a look and I turned to face Sam. “You know, sooner or later we're gonna have to talk about this.”

Sam ignored me. “Are we here?”

“Yup.” Dean popped the ‘p’ “Welcome to Toledo, Ohio.”

Sam picked the newspaper out of my lap and read over the obituary of Steven Shoemaker.

“So what do you think really happened to this guy?”

I grinned. “That's what we're gonna find out. Let's go.”

I pushed Dean, and he grunted, pulling himself out of the car. I followed, and Sam got out too. We smiled at each other before heading into the hospital.

***

“Alright, room 114.” Dean shoved his hands in his pockets.

I pointed to the door labeled MORGUE. Dean grinned proudly and Sam ruffled my hair as he passed by, leading us in. There were two desks, the empty one with a name plate labeled Dr. D. Feiklowicz. There was a man at the other desk. He was bald and his eyes were creepily settled on us, eyebrow quirked as we walked in.

“Can I help you?” He asked.

Dean nodded. “Yeah. We're the, uh… med students.” He bullshitted through a smile.

“Sorry?”

“Oh, Doctor… Figlavitch didn't tell you? We talked to him on the phone. He, uh, we're from Ohio State. He's supposed to show us the Shoemaker corpse. It's for our paper.” He gestured to Sam and I.

“Well, I'm sorry, he's at lunch.”

“Oh well he said, uh… oh, well, you know, it doesn't matter. You don't mind just showing us the body, do you?” Dean grinned.

The tech shook his head. “Sorry, I can't. Doc will be back in an hour. You can wait for him if you want.” He shrugged.

“An hour? Ooh.” Dean sucked in air through his teeth. “We gotta be heading back to Columbus by then.”

“Yeah.” Sam added.

“Uh, this paper’s worth over half my grade, so if you wouldn’t mind just helping us out?” I smiled.

“Uh, no.” The guy mocked my tone, tilting his head at me.

Dean laughed a bit, then turned around, grabbing me by the shoulder and pulling me with.

“I'm gonna hit him in his face, I swear.” He was still smiling, and his tone was kind.

I shot Sam my version of a puppy look, and he sighed, hitting Dean’s arm. He fished his wallet out of his pocket, and stepped ahead of us, laying down at least five twenties on the tech’s desk. The tech eyed the money, then pocketed it, getting up and plastering on a smile.

“Follow me.”

I followed, arms crossed over my chest. Sam and Dean didn’t follow, and I let out a long sigh.

“You sure you’re a college student?” The tech stopped in his tracks.

“Yeah. I graduated high school early. I’m seventeen.”

“You must be smart.” His gaze became predatory and he took a step closer, eyes at my chest. “A little more skin would’ve gotten you what you wanted. Didn’t need a hundred bucks. And what are they? Your boyfriends?”

“She’s my little sister.” Sam appeared, stepping in front of me.

I had never felt so thankful for the boy’s towering height until now. The tech only swallowed and walked us back into the morgue.

“Now the newspaper said his daughter found him. She said his eyes were bleeding.” Dean shook as at my other side.

The tech pulled the sheet over Shoemaker’s face. I grimaced as the stench of death reached my nose. Sam noticed, and pulled me into his side.

“More than that. They practically liquefied.”

“Any sign of a struggle? Maybe somebody did it to him?” Dean suggested.

The tech shook his head. “Nope. Besides the daughter, he was all alone.”

“What's the official cause of death?” Sam asked, arm locked around my shoulders.

“Ah, Doc's not sure. He's thinking massive stroke, maybe an aneurysm? Something burst up in there, that's for sure.”

Sam and I looked at each other, and he spoke for me.

“What do you mean?”

“Intense cerebral bleeding. This guy had more blood in his skull than anyone I've ever seen.” He seemed gleeful.

“The… the eyes. What could’ve caused something like that?” I asked.

“Capillaries can burst. See a lot of bloodshot eyes with stroke victims.” He shrugged again.

Dean snorted. “Yeah? You ever see exploding eyeballs?”

The tech squirmed. “That's a first for me, but hey, I'm not a doctor.”

Dean and I looked at each other, and he nodded. I wanted the police report. He would be able to get it.

“Hey, think we could take a look at that police report? You know, for uh… our paper.” Dean inched forward.

“I'm not really supposed to show you that.” The tech grinned, and it was disgusting.

Sam scoffed and began to pull out his wallet, but I tapped his arm. I popped to my toes and grabbed the tech by the shoulders, pulling him closer.

“Pretty please or your boss can find out how you tried to get into a seventeen year old��s pants and then my tall ass brother can beat the shit out of you.” I whispered with a smile.

I could feel Dean’s obnoxious, again prideful, smile. Sam pulled me back by the shoulders and tucked me under his arms. He smiled, hand on his hip. Dean grinned, and it was endearing. The tech’s shoulders fell.

***

“Might not be one of ours. Might just be some freak medical thing.” Sam offered as we walked down the stairs.

“How many times in Dad's long and varied career has it actually been a freak medical thing and not some sign of an awful supernatural death?” Dean arched an eyebrow.

Sam was defeated. “Uh, almost never.”

Dean grinned. “Exactly.”

“Alright, let's go talk to the daughter.” I tugged Sam’s arm.

***

“Feel like we're underdressed.” Dean whispered.

Everyone was wearing black suits and dresses, and the three of us stood in a canvas jacket, a leather jacket, and a flannel. Sam rolled his eyes and forced us to keep moving. We walked through the house, into the backyard.

“I’m sorry, have you seen Donna?” Sam asked a man who was taking a sip of his drink.

The man only pointed to a group of four girls. Two looked alike, and sort of like Shoemaker. Dean took the lead as we walked toward them.

“You must be Donna, right?”

“Yeah.” She looked up, eyeing us.

“Hi, uh… we’re really sorry.” Sam offered a polite smile.

“Thank you.”

“I'm Sam, this is Olive, and that’s Dean. We worked with your dad.”

Donna looked to her friend, then back to Sam, and then to me.

“I’m an intern.” I piped up.

“You really worked with my dad?” She asked.

Dean stepped in with a nod. “Yeah. This whole thing…” Dean shook his head. “I mean, a stroke.”

“I don't think she really wants to talk about this right now.” Her friend cut in, trying to defend her.

Donna shook her head, hand on her friend’s arm. “It's okay. I'm okay.”

Dean’s demeanor softened. “Were there any symptoms? Dizziness? Migraines?”

Donna shook her head. “No.”

The younger girl turned around, pouting. “That's because it wasn't a stroke.”

Sam and I perked up.

“Lily, don’t say that.” Donna chided.

“What?” Sam tilted his head.

“I'm sorry, she's just upset.” Donna tried to brush it off, but Lily persisted.

“No, it happened because of me.”

“Sweetie, it didn't.” Donna shook her head again.

“Lily?” Sam came down on one knee, now eye level with the girl. “Why would you say something like that?”

“Right before he died, I said it.” She whimpered.

Sam looked at me and I bent by his side.

“You said what?”

She looked up at me. She couldn’t have been any older than twelve, and I felt a sense of panic spark in me. Is this what I would be like if we didn’t find Dad? Sitting with my brothers and blaming myself?

“Bloody Mary, three times in the bathroom mirror.” She paused, then looked back to Sam, desperate for belief. “She took his eyes, that's what she does.”

Donna dismissed it once more. “That's not why Dad died. This isn't your fault.”

“I think your sister's right, Lily. There's no way it could have been Bloody Mary. Your dad didn't say it, did he?” Dean came to our side and squatted too.

Lily shook her head. “No, I don't think so.”

***

My hand went for the door handle, and Sam stopped me, pushing me back into Dean as he opened the door instead. I peered under his shoulder to see dried blood on the floor. I grimaced.

“The Bloody Mary legend...Dad ever find any evidence that it was a real thing?” Sam called back over his shoulder.

Dean and I looked at each other, and I shook my head. “Not that we know of.”

We followed Sam into the bathroom, and he stooped down, touching the blood.

“I mean, everywhere else all over the country, kids will play Bloody Mary, and as far as we know, nobody dies from it.” I shrugged.

“Yeah, well, maybe everywhere it's just a story, but here it's actually happening.” Dean opened the medicine cabinet and fiddled with the things inside.

“The place where the legend began?” I pushed myself up to sit on the sink.

Sam stood up. “But according to the legend, the person who says B-” He cut himself off, realizing he was facing the mirror. He shut it, then turned around, leaning against the sink, by my side.

“The person who says you know what gets it. But here…”

Dean nodded. “Shoemaker gets it instead, yeah.”

I nodded too. “Right. De?”

Dean shook his head. “Never heard anything like that before.”

“Still, the guy did die right in front of the mirror, and the daughter's right. The way the legend goes, you know who scratches your eyes out.” I mimicked the motion, fingers going for Dean’s face.

He smacked my hand away with a playful roll of the eyes, and Sam laughed before becoming serious once more.

“It's worth checking in to. Come on, down.” Sam held a hand out and I grabbed it, squirming off the counter and onto my feet.

Dean led the way out of the bathroom and down the hall.

“What are you doing up here?” The girl from earlier was in front of us, and Dean tucked me between himself and Sam.

“We… we uh, had to go to the bathroom.” Dean stumbled on his words.

“Who are you?” Her eyes narrowed, and Sam’s hand came to my shoulder.

“Like we said downstairs, we worked with Donna's dad.”

She shook her head. “He was a day trader or something. He worked by himself.”

“No, I know, we meant-”

“And he didn’t have interns.” She looked at me. “And all those weird questions downstairs, what was that? So you tell me what's going on, or I start screaming.” She crossed her arms over her chest.

“Alright, alright. We think something happened to Donna's dad.” I broke.

“Yeah, a stroke.”

I shook my head. “That's not what a stroke looks like. We think it might be something else.”

She was taken aback. “Like what?”

Sam shrugged. “Honestly? We don't know yet. But we don't want it to happen to anyone else. That's the truth.”

“So, if you're gonna scream, go right ahead.” Dean wasn’t impressed.

“Who are you, cops?”

Sam and I looked up at Dean.

“Something like that.”

“I'll tell you what. Here.” I picked a paper out of Sam’s pocket, and he handed me a pen.

I scribbled my phone number down, followed by Dean’s and gave it to her.

“If you think of anything, you or your friends notice anything strange, out of the ordinary… just give us a call.” I offered a polite smile before Dean walked us down the hall, Sam’s hand never leaving my shoulder.

***

“Alright, say Bloody Mary really is haunting this town. There's gonna be some sort of proof. Like a local woman who died nasty.” Dean spoke as we walked through the library doors.

“Yeah but a legend this widespread it's hard. I mean, there's like 50 versions of who she actually is. One story says she's a witch, another says she's a mutilated bride, there's a lot more.” Sam smiled at a librarian as he spoke.

“Alright, so what are we supposed to be looking for?” Dean asked.

“Well every version's got a few things in common. It's always a woman named Mary, and she always dies right in front of a mirror. So we've gotta search local newspapers, public records as far back as they go. See if we can find a Mary who fits the bill.” I explained.

Dean’s lips curled back into a snarl. “Well that sounds annoying.”

Sam and I smiled. “Nah, it won't be so bad, as long as we-” Sam cut himself off I followed his line of sight, met with computers stamped with Out of Order signs on them. I sighed, and Sam let out a chuckle.

“He takes it back. This is gonna be super fucking annoying.”

***

“Why’d you let me fall asleep?” Sam’s voice was weak and crackly, and his eyes were still half shut.

I ran a hand through his hair. I had my legs propped up on the library table, which was cluttered with public records. Sam had slumped into my lap a few hours earlier, and Dean wouldn’t let me wake him.

“‘Cause I’m an awesome brother and Olive can’t stop me. So, what’d you dream about?”

Sam looked up at me and smiled as I ruffled his hair. “Lollipops and candy canes.”

Dean rolled his eyes. “Yeah, sure.”

I picked up a pen and flung it at Dean, glaring at him. Sam scoffed from his spot on my lap and looked back up at me.

“You guys find anything, bug?”

I shook my head, and Dean spoke.

“Besides a whole new level of frustration?”

Sam went to sit up and I pouted. He dropped his head back against my lap as Dean flipped through papers.

“No. We’ve looked at everything. A Laura and a Catherine committed suicide in front of a mirror, uh-”

“A giant mirror fell on a guy named Dave.” I shrugged. “But no Mary.”

Sam groaned. “Maybe we just haven’t found it yet.”

“I’ve got Dean searching for strange deaths in the area. Ya know, eyeball bleeding, that sorta shit. There’s nothing.”

Dean shook his head. “Whatever’s happening here… maybe it just ain’t Mary.”

Sam’s phone rang before anybody could say anything else, and he fished it out of his pocket before putting it up to his ear.

“Hello?”

I couldn’t hear who was calling, but Sam sat up, a look of concern painted across his gentle face.

***

“And they found her on the bathroom floor. And her… her eyes. They were gone.” Charlie sobbed, and I reached for her hand, feeling awful.

She took it as I looked over my shoulder at Dean. His eyebrow was arched, but he said nothing, balancing on the back of the bench. I shifted my attention to Sam, who looked pitiful.

“I’m sorry.” He offered, hands in his pockets as he stood in front of us.

“And she said it.” Charlie looked to me, and I maintained eye contact, feeling the boys look at each other. “I heard her say it. But it couldn't be because of that. I'm insane, right?” She cried again.

“No.” I shook my head and squeezed her hand. “Charlie, no, you’re not insane.”

“Oh God, that makes me feel so much worse.” She whimpered.

“Look.” Sam was, as always, gentle but firm. “We think something's happening here. Something that can't be explained.”

“We’re gonna stop it. But we could use your help.” I looked at her.

***

Charlie opened the window, and I jumped in before Sam and Dean, taking the duffle bag and dropping it on the floor. Sam crawled in after me, and Dean came last.

“What did you tell Jill's mom?” Sam asked as I began to pull out the gear we needed.

“Just that I needed some time alone with Jill's pictures and things.”

I handed Sam the camera as Dean shut the curtains. Charlie shivered.

“I hate lying to her.”

“Trust us, this is for the greater good. Hit the lights.” Dean’s tone was, again, kind.

Charlie turned the lights off. “What are you guys looking for?”

“We’ll let you know as soon as we find it.”

Sam continued to fumble with the camera and sighed before tossing it to Dean. “Hey, night vision.”

Dean clicked a button and handed it back to Sam.

“Perfect, thanks.” The taller boy mumbled as he aimed the camera.

Dean pursed his lips and puffed himself up, turning his back to the camera and looking over his shoulder. “Do I look like Paris Hilton?”

I giggled as Sam rolled his eyes, moving to Jill’s closet door. Dean pulled out his EMF meter and paced around the room. I crept into the bathroom, trying to stay within Sam’s reach just in case.

“So… I don't get it.”

Dean looked at me and I rolled my eyes. Whenever I said that, he thought I meant I didn’t understand what was happening.

“What I mean is the first victim didn't summon Mary, and the second victim did. How's she choosing them?”

Dean turned away. “Beats me. I wanna know why Jill said it in the first place.” Dean scoffed.

“It’s just a joke.” Charlie defended, and Sam moved my way as Dean continued.

“Anything, bug?” He asked.

I shrugged. “Nothing obvious.” When I hunted with Dean, I was in Sam’s place, but now I didn’t know what to do.

“Alright, c’mere and help me.” Sam pulled me under his arm as he shuffled into the bathroom, camera up. He ran it around the mirror, and I saw a trickle down the wall.

“Look.” I pointed.

He squinted. “Hey.” He called to Dean. “There’s a blacklight in the trunk, right?”

Dean scrambled out the window as I took the camera from Sam. He pulled the mirror off, setting it face down on the bed. Dean came back in and threw the blacklight our way. I caught it with fumbling hands and held it as Dean closed the curtains again. Sam peeled the brown paper off the back of the mirror, and I clicked the blacklight on before handing it to him.

There was a handprint, and bloody letters spelled out Gary Bryman.

“Gary Bryman?” Charlie read, confused.

“You know who that is?” I asked.

She looked up at me and shook her head. “No.”

She sighed and Sam and I looked at each other, then to Dean, eyes wide.

***

“So, Gary Bryman was an eight year old. Killed two years ago in a hit and run.” I spoke to Dean and Charlie as Sam and I came up from behind.

“The car was described as a black Toyota Camry. But nobody got the plates or saw the driver.” Sam sat down and I leaned against him.

“Oh my god.” Charlie’s eyes widened.

Sam and I looked at each other. “What?”

“Jill drove that car.”

Dean seemed exasperated. “We need to get back to your friend Donna's house.”

***

“Linda Shoemaker.” I read, sighing as the handprint lit up next to the name.

Sam looked up at me, and we looked at Dean. He sighed.

“Shoemaker killed his wife.”

I shrugged. “Or knew something about her death.”

“Either way.” Sam shrugged and got up.

We followed him downstairs.

“Donna, do you know a Linda Shoemaker by chance?” Sam asked.

“Why are you asking me this?” She squinted.

“Look, we're sorry, but it's important.” Sam pressed.

Donna sighed, but spoke as Charlie nodded at her. “Yeah. Linda's my mom okay? She overdosed on sleeping pills, it was an accident, and that's it.” Charlie’s eyes widened, and the boys and I looked at each other. “I think you should leave.”

Dean put a hand out. “Now Donna, just listen.”

“Just get out of my house!” She pushed past Dean and around the stairs.

“Oh my God. Do you really think her dad could've killed her mom?” Charlie crossed her arms over her chest.

“Maybe.” Sam tilted his head.

“I think I should stick around.” Charlie winced.

Sam nodded, and Dean sighed. “Alright. Just whatever you do, don’t…” Dean made a face.

“Believe me, I won’t say it.” She shook her head.

***

I was running through the records again, sitting next to Dean, slumped against his arm as he stared at the laptop, mouth set into a pout and eyes wide and focused.

“Wait, wait, wait, you're doing a nationwide search?” Sam turned from the papers tacked onto the wall to us.

“Yep. The NCIC, the FBI database. At this point any Mary who died in front of a mirror is good enough for me.” Dean’s eyes remained strangely wide.

“But, De, if she’s haunting the town, she should’ve died in the town.” I looked up from the papers in my lap.

“I'm telling you, sweetie, there's nothing local, we’ve checked. So unless you two got a better idea…”

“The way Mary’s choosing her victims, it seems like there’s a pattern.” Sam scratched his head.

“I know, I was thinking the same thing.” Dean looked to him.

“With Shoemaker, and Jill’s hit and run,” I started

“Both had secrets where people died.” Dean caught on with a nod.

“Yeah. I mean, there’s a lot of folklore about mirrors. That, that they reveal all your lies, your secrets, that they’re a true reflection of your soul, which is why it’s bad luck to break them.” I rubbed my eyes.

Dean took his arm back and threw it around me. “Right, right. So maybe if you've got a secret, I mean like a really nasty one where someone died, then Mary sees it, and punishes you for it.”

“Whether you're the one that summoned her or not.” Sam concluded.

Dean turned back to the computer. “Take a look at this.”

There was a picture of a woman lying in front of a mirror, in a puddle of blood. I wrinkled my nose and sighed through my nose.

Dean printed two pictures, and Sam took the first one. I grabbed the second, sighing. It was a handprint, the letters Tre by the side. I got out of my seat and pushed at Sam’s arm. He moved it and let me drop into his lap, putting the picture side-by-side with the ones we had taken of Jill’s and the Shoemaker’s mirror.

“Looks like the same handprint.” He nodded.

“Yeah, her name was Mary Worthington. An unsolved murder in Fort Wayne, Indiana.” Dean looked at us with lips pursed and eyebrows raised.

***

“Why do I have to stay?” I pouted.

“Because you still have to go to school. We’ll be back before school lets out, promise.” Dean patted my head.

I scowled and ducked away from his hand, glaring at Sam. “This isn’t fair.”

“Bug, come on. We all grew up like this.”

“Yeah, but before I had at least one of you! Now you’re just gonna leave me here in Toledo while you guys drive all the way to Indiana?” I gestured with my hands.

“Sweetpea, it’s only two hours. You’ll be okay.” Dean put his arms in his pockets and I stomped my foot, feeling like a child.

“Sammy, what if something happens?” I turned to him.

“Sweetheart, you can handle yourself. It’ll be okay.” Dean reassured.

I groaned, then looked over my shoulder at the high school. I turned back to my brothers and sighed. “Can’t believe you guys.”

“Alright, hey, bug, look at me. We’ll be back before you know it. I promise.” Sam held his pinky finger out for mine. I sighed before hooking them together.

“Anything happens, you call me. Okay? We’ll turn right around. Dean’s driving, so we’ll be back, quick.” He kissed the top of my head.

I closed my eyes and sighed again. I wasn’t keen on being separate from my brothers. Elementary school had been the worst, because Dean was in high school, and Sam was in middle school. When I got up to middle school, Dean was already out, and he was the one to drop me off and pick me up, and if he couldn’t, Sam could sneak out of high school to come get me. But now, in high school, alone? It was like being five all over again.

“We promise. Everything’s gonna be okay. Alright? We love you. Be good.” Dean kissed my forehead.

I hugged him, then kissed his cheek. He winked at me and I hugged Sam, sighing.

“It’s gonna be alright, bug. I promise.” He stressed.

I rolled my eyes and kissed his cheek. “Love you guys.”

“We love you too.”

***

I sighed as the bell rang. I had skipped out on my art class, because Donna was in it and she gave me a lethal glare the moment I walked in. I was hiding in the bathroom, propped up on the toilet, balanced on my feet. I had my head in my hands. Being apart from the boys was stressing me out more than I had anticipated, especially with Dad being gone. I was beginning to think that Dean and I, and after Jessica’s death, maybe Sam too, were dangerously codependent. Not that any of us had addictions or an awful mental health, but we literally could not stand to be apart, and without each other, we all fell apart.

“I mean, you bring these strangers into my house and they ask me things like that?” I heard Donna, and I winced.

“They were only trying to help. Please, Donna, you have to believe me.” Charlie followed.

“What? About Bloody Mary?” Donna hissed.

“Please, I know it sounds crazy-”

“Crazy doesn’t even begin to cover it! I mean, it’s one thing for Lily to believe this shit, she’s twelve. But you?”

“Think about the way your dad died, okay? And the way Jill died.” Charlie pleaded.

“Okay, so. Bloody Mary.”

I dug my face into my hands and tried to stifle a groan. Chances were, that if I stepped out to stop Donna, she would sock me in the face.

“No!” Charlie tried.

“Bloody Mary. Bloody Mary.” She finished, and another pause followed. “See? Nothing happened.”

“Oh my God.” Charlie whimpered. “Why would you do that?”

“Jesus Christ. There really is something wrong with you.” Donna scoffed before storming out.

I bounded out of the stall, running straight into Charlie.

“What’s gonna happen now?”

“She’s gonna kill someone with a secret.” I panted, looking anywhere but the mirror. “Just have to make sure we don’t look at anything with a reflection.”

“You’re scared. Oh my God, you have a secret!” She shouted.

“Charlie, please!” I shushed her, dragging her out of the bathroom.

“What the fuck are you not telling me?”

I sighed, closing my eyes as we stood against the lockers.

“When I was twelve… Sam was at school, Dean and my dad were at work.” I swallowed. “There was a guy. H-he-he was probably in his thirties. I was walking back from the laundromat, and…” I whimpered.

“I’m sorry.”

“I fought back before he could do anything, and I kicked him in the head. I didn’t mean to kick as hard as I did, and… he died. I ran home, and I never said anything to anyone until now.” I shuddered.

“I’m so sorry, Olive.” She frowned.

I shook my head to clear it, then grabbed her by the arm again. “It’s fine. I’m fine. We just have to wait for my brothers to come back. They’ll stop this.”

***

“Elements that lose electrons become positive ions, which are smaller than other atoms of the same element.”

I rolled my eyes. Chemistry was the worst science class I had ever taken. The teacher kept going, and I took off my glasses, cleaning them. I rubbed my eyes before putting the glasses back on. They were now clean, and the reflections were clear. May was standing behind me, covered in blood. I ripped the glasses off, letting them slam onto the desk. Charlie screamed from the row beside me, and she threw a compac at the ground.

“Shit.” I hissed, getting up as she sprang from her seat.

The other students backed away from her, and the teacher shouted her name. She stopped in front of the window, and I caught Mary’s reflection, albeit a tad fuzzy, along with everything else. Charlie stood, frozen. I picked up her stool and threw it through the window, breaking Mary’s reflection.

“Miss Winchester!” The teacher shouted at me now.

Charlie ran, and he grabbed her. I ran to my desk, grabbing my phone, my glasses, and my journal.

“Charlie, stop it! What’s wrong? Just calm down!” He ordered, but she looked at his glasses and screamed again.

“Let me go!” She tried to escape his grip.

“Fuck.” I growled, hitting his wrists until his grip loosened.

I grabbed her by the wrist and pulled her along with me as she continued to scream.

***

“Sam!” I shouted, crying.

“Bug? Babes, what’s wrong?”

“She said it. Donna said it.” My eyes were burning.

“Shit. Are you okay? Where are you?”

There was a rush of air, and my breathing evened a bit when I heard Dean’s gruff voice.

“Sweetpea, what happened?”

“Donna said it, and Mary came after me and Charlie.”

“Son of a bitch. Where are you?”

“Motel room. Broke all the mirrors I could find, shoved my glasses under a pillow. Don’t know if I got them all. De, I’m scared.” I whimpered.

“Alright, sweetheart. I’m giving you back to Sam. We’re almost home, promise. Just keep your eyes closed.”

“Okay.”

“Bug, we’ll be there in ten, okay? Make sure Charlie keeps her eyes closed too.”

I nodded. “She’s right next to me.” I squeezed her hand. We hadn’t let go of each other since we ran out of school.

“Okay. It’s gonna be okay, ug. I swear.”

“Sams, I’m scared.”

“I know, honey. But it’s gonna be okay. I promise you.”

“Sammy?”

“What is it, bug?”

“Can you stay?”

“Of course I can, baby girl.”

***

“Ollie, we’re coming in.” I heard Sam and I let out a strangled cry.

The door clicked open, and I was pulled up. I wrapped myself around Sam and cried, burying my head into his shoulder.

“It’s okay. We’re here now, bug. It’s okay. I promise.”

“Sammy, help me out here.” Dean called him.

“No! Sams, please.” I tightened my arms.

“Bug, he can’t reach the last mirror. Here, he’ll take you.”

Before I could protest, I was shifted off and sat in Dean’s lap.

“S’okay. Promise.” Dean whispered.

“Hey, hey. It’s okay. Hey. You guys can open your eyes now.” Sam whispered, kneeling by the side of the bed.

I slowly opened my eyes and pulled back. Dean’s freckled face was visible in the dark. Sam’s hand came to my back and I squirmed away from Dean, throwing myself at Sam. He caught me against his side with a grunt. He pulled me up and sat on the other side of the bed.

“Now, listen. You two are gonna stay right here on this bed. And you’re not gonna look at glass, or anything else that has a reflection, okay?” Sam instructed, rubbing my back. “As long as you do that, she can not get to you.”

There was a long pause, and I buried my head into Sam’s neck, again closing my eyes.

“But I can’t keep that up forever.” Charlie broke the silence. “I’m going to die, aren’t I?”

“No. No. Not anytime soon.” Sam shook his head.

“Alright, Charlie. We need to know what happened.” Dean’s voice was gentle, and I couldn’t help but look up at him.

“It’s like Olive told you. We were in the bathroom. Donna said it.” She whimpered.

Sam sighed, arms tightening around me.

“That’s not what we’re talking about. Something happened, didn’t it? In your life… a secret. Where someone got hurt. Can you tell us about it?” Dean coaxed.

Charlie began to cry, and the boys looked at each other. “I had this boyfriend. I loved him. But he kind of scared me too, you know?” Her breaths were shuddered. “And one night, at his house, we got in this fight. Then I broke up with him, and he got upset, and he said he needed me and he loved me, and he said ‘Charlie, if you walk out that door right now, I'm gonna kill myself.’” Her voice cracked, and Dean looked to Sam. “And you know what I said? I said ‘Go ahead.’ And I left.” She whimpered. “How could I say that? How could I leave him like that?” She looked to Dean, and then Sam. “ I just...I didn't believe him, you know? I should have.” She buried her face back into her knees and began to cry once more.

There was a long pause, and then Sam looked down at me. I began to cry, and I ducked my head back into his shoulder.

“Bug.” He whispered.

“No.” I whined.

“Bug, look at me.”

“No, Sams. Your eyes always have a reflection in them.” I whispered.

He sighed, then stuck his mouth by my ear. “Okay. Then talk to me.”

I shook my head, crying.

“Bug, please.”

“No, Sams.” I repeated.

“Baby girl, please. Whatever you did, I’m not upset with you. Dean won’t be upset either. Right?”

“Of course not.” I felt the bed dip as Dean moved next to me.

I cried, shaking my head.

“Bug. Please.” Sam whispered.

“Promise.” I whispered.

“Swear on my mother’s grave.” Dean’s voice was soft.

I looked up at him, then put my head back down, again crying.

“Babes. Please.” Sam cooed.

I sighed, letting my breathing even out. “It was the year after you left.” I whimpered.

“Shh, shh. It’s okay. Just tell us what happened.”

“De, y-you and Dad w-w-w-were on a hunt.”

“Shh shh shh.” Sam rubbed my back.

“And I went to do laundry. And when I went back to the motel, this guy trapped me in an alleyway.” I sniveled.

“Oh, sweetheart.” Dean’s hand came to the back of my head and I could feel the anger in his blood.

I shook my head. “I fought back, De. I fought as hard as I could, b-but…”

“Bug. It’s okay. Keep going.” Sam cooed again.

“I kicked him in the head, and I didn’t mean to, Sams, but I-I killed him.” I bawled. “I’m sorry!”

I felt the boys looking at each other, and Dean pressed a kiss to the side of my head. “It’s okay. We’re not upset.”

“Babes, we’re gonna go stop her. Okay?” Sam whispered, and Dean gave my head another kiss before getting up.

“No.” I shook my head, clinging to Sam. “No, Sams, please, please, please don’t leave me, not again.” I whined.

He shushed me again. “Baby girl, I have to. I have to stop her, so we can save you.”

“Sams, please.” I cried.

“It’s okay. It’s gonna be okay.”

“Hey, hey, okay.” I felt Dean pull me off and sit me down. “Listen to me.”

I sniffled and tried to stop crying. Dean cradled my face in his hands, wiping my tears away. Sam smoothed my hair back, and Dean’s calloused thumb ran over my cheek. I calmed down, breathing through my mouth.

“We’re gonna save you. We’ll be back before you know it. I promise. You’re gonna be okay. Okay?”

I sighed before nodding. “Okay.”

“Okay. Stay here. Anything happens, you call. Alright?” Dean murmured.

I nodded again. “I love you guys.”

A kiss to the forehead and another to the top of my head.

“We love you too, Ol.”

***

“Sam, how the fuck are you gonna get her to come out?” I asked.

I had called them as soon as I noticed the flaw in their plan.

“Don’t worry about it, bug.” I heard him lower his voice. “Come on. Come into this one.”

“Oh my fucking god, Sam! You summoned her, didn’t you?”

“It’s your fault. You killed her. You killed Jessica.” The second voice, almost Sam’s voice, but not quite, came.

“Sam?”

The phone thudded, and he grunted. I heard a metallic crash, and I panicked.

“Sam!”

“You never told her the truth! Who you really were!” A loud crash followed, and Sam was gasping.

“Sams.” I whimpered.

“But it’s more than that, isn’t it? Those nightmares you’ve been having of Jessica dying. Screaming! Burning! You had them for days before she died! Didn’t you?”

I whimpered, throwing my head back against the headboard. “Sammy, please.”

“You were so desperate to ignore them, to believe they were just dreams. How could you ignore them like that? How could you leave her alone to die! You dreamt it would happen!”

There was a smashing of glass, and the voice disappeared.

“Sam! Sammy!” Dean was on the other side now.

“It’s Sam.”

“God, are you okay?”

I sighed. “Boys!”

“Ol. Jesus, you really can’t be apart from us, can you?” Dean picked up the phone and chuckled.

“I just wanted to make sure you knew how to get her. Is Sam okay?”

“Yeah, he’s fine. Come on, come on.”

There was another thud, and Dean hissed.

“Boys!”

There was no response.

“You killed them! All those people! You killed them!” It was a girl’s voice, and there was choking and another shatter of glass.

“Boys?”

“We’re okay. Hey Sam?”

“Yeah?”

“This has gotta be like… what? Six hundred years of bad luck?”

I could hear Sam’s laugh. “Yeah, probably. It’s over, bug. We’re coming home, alright?”

“Can I take the blankets off now? I think I look like total shit.”

Sam snorted. “Sure, babes. Just… be careful. Just in case.”

I rolled my eyes, yanking the blanket off the big mirror, scowling at my tear-stained face.

“Oh gross.”

***

“So this is really over?” Charlie asked as Dean parked in front of her house.

“Yeah,” Dean nodded. “It’s over.”

She smiled. “Thank you.”

Dean reached over the back to shake her hand. She hugged me quickly before getting out of the car.

“Charlie?” Sam called.

She turned around, head tilted.

“Your boyfriend's death… you really should try to forgive yourself. No matter what you did, you probably couldn't have stopped it. Sometimes bad things just happen.” Sam shrugged.

Charlie smiled at him. “Bye, Winchesters.” She turned and disappeared into the house.

“Hey.” Dean leaned over to hit Sam’s arm. “That’s good advice.”

He drove off, and I sighed between my brothers. I had buried my secret deep in the back of my brain, horrified my brothers would be upset with me. But now it was out, and although I felt relieved, I couldn’t help but replay what I had heard over the phone.

“Hey, Sam?” Dean broke the silence.

“Yeah?” Sam turned.

“Now that this is all over, I want you to tell me what that secret is.” Dean’s eyes went from the road to Sam, and back.

“Look, Dean… you're my brother and I'd die for you… but there are some things I need to keep to myself.” Sam looked out the window.

I looked up at him and felt my heart shatter. I had loved Jess too. She became the mother I never had. It was a type of love that, no matter how hard my brothers tried, they couldn’t give me. I bit my lip and threw my arms around Sam. He tensed, taken aback. I whimpered against him and he softened, wrapping his arms back around me with a sigh.

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the-blind-assassin-12 · 4 years

Text

Let Your Heart Be Light

A/N: On the 3rd Day of Christmas Fics you get... Logan Delos! This one goes along with The Bottom AU, and was inspired by the classic Christmas song “Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas”. Shouting out a Happy Birthday to @thesumofmychoices, lover of angst. Hope you had a badass day, Lisa!

Warning: drug use, death

Word Count: 2,091

Prompt from: @something-tofightfor

“So...do you still hate Christmas?”

“It’s not weird, it’s tradition.”

“I didn’t know what to get you. You’re not exactly easy to shop for.”

You stood back and admired your work in the facility’s main lounge, one hand on your hip and the other arm draped around Juliet’s shoulders. It's perfect. “Little to the left, Tony,” she called to her husband, nothing but a pair of legs sticking out from under the enormous evergreen. With a wiggle of his hips and a muffled grunt, the tree twisted a few degrees. “Right... there!” She turned to you, sliding her arm under yours and around your waist as Tony crawled out from under the boughs, brushing needles from his shoulders. “He’s going to love this you know. It’s,” she paused as Tony came to wrap his arm around her other side, pressing a kiss to her cheek. “I mean, it’s beautiful. Everyone’s going to love it. But Logan?” She looked around the room, at the lights and bows, the roping over the fireplace, and then back at the tree. “He needs this.” She smiled and you watched her pluck a few stray needles from Tony’s dark curls.

“Thanks, Jules,” you let your arm fall free of her shoulders. “And thank you for helping me set this all up. You too, Tone.” You leaned around to wink at Tony who saluted you in response.

Juliet took your hand and squeezed it. “Of course. Now,” she turned back to her husband. “We have to get home and play Santa for Em.” You nodded, grinning as you imagined Logan’s niece wide eyed and beaming at the mountain of gifts there was sure to be. You knew how much Emily meant to Logan, and you’d be lying if the girl didn’t hold a special place in your heart, too. She was the sweetest little thing you’d met in this wild world, and though you never knew her biological father, you’d heard enough about him to know that there was none of him in her. “You should go up to the office and get Logan,” Juliet suggested. “Otherwise he’ll work all night. Don’t let him do that.” She hugged you goodnight, Tony following suit, and then the two of them left you alone in the large room, the only light coming from the tiny bulbs that you’d wrapped around the tree and bordered the windows with, glowing a warm golden color against the green pine boughs and red velvet ribbons.

Your watch vibrated, letting you know that it was 8pm, and you knew that Juliet was right about Logan working through the night if you didn’t drag him away from his desk. You bent down to touch the lone white orb that had yet to be hung on the tree, brushing your fingertips lightly over its smooth surface before heading for the staircase and the only office with a light still on.

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

“So…” she panted, wiping her mouth and collapsing into the sheets beside him, bony hips colliding with his. “Do you still hate Christmas?” She trailed her fingers through the coarse hair below his navel and gazed up at him through foggy eyes that she could barely hold open.

Logan rolled his own heavily lidded eyes downward at the paper thin woman draped over his skeletal frame. Yes. Thoroughly and completely, and if that piss poor excuse for good head was supposed to change my mind, you’re more fucked up than I thought you were… he tried to think of her name but drew a complete blank. Not that it mattered, none of those thoughts made it out of his mind, nor would her name if he could remember it. “Yeah,” he slurred drowsily. “Still fuckin’…still hate it.”

What’s-her-name continued dragging her fingertips up over his abdomen before circling his nipple. He felt nothing from the contact, hardly aware that she was even touching him. She raised her head from his shoulder, her sweaty cheeks drawn, hollow and pale. “Should I…I dunno, you wanna fuck me or somethin’?” She leaned on her elbow to look at him from behind the remains of her smeared mascara.

No. That would only be more depressing. Logan lifted his upper half enough to dislodge her from his body and lean against the pillows. He reached for the small wooden box on the bedside table, nearly knocking over a mostly empty bottle of bourbon. She watched his knobby knuckled hands open the lid, her eyes shining and widening as an involuntary reaction to the black magic contents.

He shook his head, clearing it of the dimly lit memories before they could continue to play out. I was there when it happened, I know how the rest goes. But he knew that wasn’t entirely true. For a good portion of his twenties and early thirties, the fact was that he made it a point not to be there, snorting things up quickly collapsing nasal passages, swallowing them down a sore, irritated throat, shooting and chasing and filling up on whatever poison would be enough to feel an abundance of nothing. I spent six Christmases in the hospital wanting to fucking die. Tearing the top page off of the notepad he’d been working with, he crumpled it in his palm, closing his first so tightly his knuckles strained at his skin. Who the fuck am I to give a goddamn speech tomorrow? Who am I to give anyone hope? Tossing the paper grenade he slammed his other hand against the desktop, the sudden motion rattling the few items that sat there. “Shit,” he mumbled, reaching for the frame that had fallen and righting it. He sighed, pressing his fingertips to the glass as you grinned at him from behind it. “What do I do?” He asked your picture. “How do I..?” He released another heavy breath, his long hair falling in his eyes as he hung his head between his hands.

“How do you what, Logan?” He hadn’t heard you enter his office, but he looked up at the sound of your voice, already feeling lighter just from your presence. He let go of the picture frame and opened his arms, turning his chair away from his desk. Wordlessly, you crossed the space and sat on his thigh, fitting yourself against his chest. His arms closed around you, lips finding your temple as yours pressed to his jaw.

“How do I give them hope for Christmas?” He spoke quietly against your hair, one hand cradling the back of your head and the other running slowly up and down your back, over the soft cable knit of your sweater. “You know what I was just thinkin’ about? Before you came in here- you know what I was thinkin’?” He closed his eyes then, squeezing them shut against the memory nameless woman who had died right next to him in bed later that night. I can’t do this.

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

You sat up, pulling away from his chest to look up at his face, his eyes pleading with you, looking to you for answers. “Yeah, Logan,” you gently raked your fingers through his hair, the tips grazing the tops of his ears. “I have a pretty good idea about what you were thinking.” It’s still part of you, Logan, but it’s behind you now.

“You know why I didn’t do this last year? Why Jules made the speech and not me?” He blinked his long lashes. “Why I wasn’t here to be with you for Christmas?”

“Logan,” you knew where he was going, knew he was trying to heap blame and guilt on himself. You don't deserve that, Logan. You shook your head, fingers still skimming over his ear. It calmed him, you knew. “You had business meetings abroad for Delos. Everyone understands that-“

“I coulda set those meetings anytime. I made ’em around Christmas so I wouldn’t have to…” he trailed off, gesturing at the pile of torn and crumpled speeches that he’d started and abandoned, trying and failing to figure out how to address the group of addiction survivors that lived at The Door. “I don't wanna be a hypocrite. I don’t wanna-“

“Logan.” He was working himself into a tailspin, and you knew you needed to pull the chord on the parachute. You pressed your lips to his to get him to stop talking. “First of all,” you rose from his lap but kept your hands on him, making sure he knew you were right there. “You could never be a hypocrite. You live your truth more thoroughly than anyone I know.” Taking his hands in yours, you tugged him upwards into a standing position. “Secondly, you know these people, Logan. You’re here with them twice, sometimes three times a week. You know their stories, and they know yours, too.” You shook your head slowly, keeping your eyes on his. “They’re not looking at you for absolute answers, Logan. Just support. That’s all. And you’ve been doing that everyday. It’s no different tomorrow just because the calendar says so.”

“I know, I just-“

“You can do this, Logan Delos. I know you can.” Lifting yourself onto your toes, you kissed him again, not breaking it until you felt his lips turn upwards under yours. “Now, Jules told me I shouldn’t let you stew up here all night.”

“Oh… shit,” he looked out the window, realizing how late it had gotten. “Did she-“

“Yeah, she and Tony went home to do their Santa Sneak with Em.”

Logan scoffed. “One gift on Christmas Eve. I always thought that was weird, even when we were kids.”

“It’s not weird,” you defended his sister’s sentimentality. “It’s tradition.” you pulled him by the hand, taking a few steps backwards toward the hallway. “Speaking of traditions, I’m thinking about starting a new one.” Lacing your fingers through his, you brought your free hand up to his cheek, neatly trimmed beard soft beneath your palm as he leaned into your touch. “I know Christmas is hard for you, Logan.” You cringed, recalling the ghosts of Christmases come and gone; both those that he’d told you about, and those that you’d squandered together in your former lives. “But I have a surprise for you that I hope will help this year.”

The darkness in his eyes melted, giving way to a warm toasted chestnut. “I thought we said no gifts,” he reached for your hip and pulled you closer, fingers sliding beneath your sweater.

“We did.” You rolled your eyes and he rewarded you with the small lift of his lips into a smile. “But we both knew that wasn’t gonna happen, didn’t we?” His grin widened, flashing a glimpse of the dazzling smile that you’d been missing. “Besides, it’s nothing… it’s not,” You furrowed your brow trying to find the right words. “It’s just something that I did that I hope you’ll like. I didn’t know what to get you. You’re not exactly easy to shop for.” He rolled his eyes. “So I didn’t shop.” You winked. “Come on, follow me.”

You lead him downstairs, stopping just in front of the door to the main common area. “One day, you’re gonna have more happy memories of Christmas than good ones, Logan.” He tightened his grip on your hand as you opened the door and followed him inside. His eyes grew twice their size as he took in all the lights, their glow dancing across his cheeks.

“You did all this?” He waved his arm vaguely at the room.

You nodded. “I had help from Juliet and Tony, but,” you shrugged. “Yeah, it was my idea.” You stepped up next to him. “What do you think of the tree?”

He moved closer to the massive pine, noticing the ornaments. “Cathy Marks, 4 months” He touched a white orb dangling from a red ribbon. Moving to a green one, he read “Jeremiah West, 1 year”. When he turned back to you, you were holding another one but you were covering the inscription. When he spoke your name it was full of wonder. “It’s… it’s everyone…”

“Yeah, Logan, it is. Everyone. We’re all in it together. We give each other hope.” You held the ornament out to him. “Just one more to hang.”

Logan Delos, 5 years. He slid his fingers under the green satin ribbon and lifted the glittery white bauble from your grasp. “This is…” he shifted his gaze from the glass ball in his hand up to your your eyes. “This is the best gift anyone’s ever…”

“I love you, Logan.” You circled your arms around his torso, slipping them under his jacket to press your palms against the thin material of his shirt. “Merry Christmas.”

@something-tofightfor @its-my-little-dumpster-fire @suchatinyinfinity @gollyderek @thesumofmychoices @obscurilicious @nananananananananananabatman @ @lexxierave @belladonnarey @ymariejp @songtoyou @traeumerinwitzhelden @breanime @drinix

#12 days of christmas fics #logan delos #logan delos x you #logan delos x reader #the bottom au #logan westworld #have yourself a merry little christmas logan #logan delos deserved better #logan delos christmas

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