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ammstify · 15 days

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Late night thoughts but, y'know what I really love in media? Imperfect relationships.

And no I don't mean relationships where they argue a lot or don't completely click together.

One of the tropes that I happen to dislike is the idea of people in love being each others "perfect half", that "complete each other" and "fill the gaps within them" (no innuendo intended).

Sure its sweet, heart warming, and gives off a sense of hope but, realistically, nobody truly completes someone!

Which is how I came up with my own little term for my favorite relationships; Kintsugi relationships.

For those who don't know, kintsugi, also known as kintsukuro, is the Japanese art of repairing broken pottery using gold, silver, or platinum dust! This creates a rather beautiful but imperfect appearance to the pottery, showing the lines of breakage while holding it together, but never truly healing it all the way.

One of my favorite current ships, Vashwood (aka Vash the Stampede and Nicholas D. Wolfwood from the Trigun franchise) reflect this type of relationship to me!

Both Vash and Wolfwood suffer from their own individual traumas, being filled to the brim with metaphorical and physical scars that eat away at them.

Vash struggles with hundreds of years worth of trauma, reflected upon his whole body after trying to save countless lives from death and violence. Some caused by bandits, some caused by his own brother, and some... Caused by him.

He struggles with nightmares and PTSD, remembering the incidents and death that was all his own fault, mourning the unknown lives that he had taken by accident during both the fall of SEEDS, the July incident, and the destruction of the moon. He relives it, and makes it his whole purpose to avoid those incidents from ever happening again.

And he suffers in silence, hiding behind a fake smile, under a red damaged duster and protective armor, with nobody truly knowing what goes through his head as he lives day by day, trying to provide some hope to the world.

Wolfwood also struggles with quite a lot of trauma, feeling the leftover scars deep within his bones, even though nary are visible upon his flesh. He remembers each bullet wound, each knife stabbing, each bit of blood that was shed before he drank a potion, forcing him back to life to continue fighting.

He also remembers the torturous abuse he went through to become a member of the Eye of Michael, to become their Punisher, forcing his body to age and grow beyond its means and become subhuman.

And even though he denies it, he remembers all the death he has caused too. All the bandits he's fought, all the targets he's followed, all to appease a faceless man to protect his childhood home at the orphanage. He drinks and smokes the pain away, never truly opening up to people while acting like a saintly priest, knowing how much pain he's caused for a cause he didn't believe in.

At least.... Until they met, and left together to search for Knives. And slowly but surely, unlike any other person they met, began to unravel and slowly heal each others open wounds.

The two of them find comfort in each others trauma, their battle scars, their imperfectness, spending every moment as they travel No Man's Land together. The bicker, they fight, they laugh, they smile, they rest and share tears. But they never try to fix each other, only bide their time and ignore their own pain, while finding a purpose in life to live and fight.

They are each others kintsugi, the gold that holds them together, that doesn't completely heal the countless imperfections, wounds, and trauma. But they don't care, because they'd rather share each others tomorrows and feel human for once, even for but a moment in each others presence...

The same applies to a pair of ocs my friend and I have developed for quite some time, with the two ironically mirroring Vashwood in terms of relationship! They both struggle with their own individual traumas, and while they can't completely heal the metaphorical and physical scars, they can mend and soothe the leftover wounds.

They both suffer in silence in their own ways, but find comfort as they unravel each others hidden scars. They're imperfect, they're damaged, they go through highs and lows... but the fact that they have someone to fill part of those gaps with love and comfort makes it all worth it.

And that my friends, is the key to a kintsugi relationship; Embracing and loving imperfection, and healing wounds but never getting rid of them

Also another really cool and similar example that my friend brought up was the Sashiko sewing technique, which like Kintsugi, is focused upon repairing damage on a piece of fabric by creating unique stitches!

To quote from them, “Nothing is perfect nor does it last forever but there is beauty it’s the wounds and cracks that it bears. Showing them healed and not fixed brings a humanness to things that otherwise wouldn’t have it.”

And man...

If that doesn't represent Vashwood's whole relationship in their story, I don't know what does!

They also mentioned, "Something born out of necessity but bringing beauty to it anyway, really does scream Vashwood," which seeing by this quote is absolutely true!

Anyway, for anyone who reads this, thank you for taking the time to do so, and have a good night/day!! Maybe in the future I'll discuss some more fun things with Trigun, my ocs, or maybe another fandom of a certain fantastical variety? 👀

#writing #trigun #vash the stampede #nicholas d. wolfwood #vashwood #my ocs #relationship

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in-inertia · 1 year

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Gladiia: Reflect on the battle ahead.

Why do we fight?

[ Part 1 of 4 ]

[ Part 2 ] [ Part 3 ] [ Part 4 ]

For seventeen years, Gladiia believed she knew the answer. The Abyssal Hunters fought for the preservation of everything they loved—for Ægir, and for life itself. They threw themselves into a battle they knew they would not survive, all for the hope that Ægir would live to see the sunrise upon the horizon. They fought for something greater than themselves.

But life on land had given them new perspectives. The Hunters found themselves surrounded by primitive peoples, living drab lives without culture or any true understanding of just what lay beneath the ocean surface. Yet Skadi and Laurentina each found something about this land that they learned to love. Before Gladiia realized, they'd already stopped thinking of Ægir as their only home. Even Laurentina, homesick as she was, came to love life above the waves. There was a beauty to the simplicity here, a crude beauty that Ægir would have never let persist in its continual dominance over nature.

Gladiia could never do the same. Ægir was the only home she'd ever known. She couldn't turn her back on life in Ægir—not after everything she'd done for the sake of the nation. A bloody campaign that claimed countless lives laid behind her. To abandon her mission would be tantamount to betrayal to those who died. Even if Ægir had discarded her, she would continue to serve it until her last breath. Otherwise, she could never face the memory of those who never had the chance.

Yet…

Ulpianus' words never left her mind. Ægir had become something unknown to her. Ulpianus had always been critical of Ægir's shortcomings, as had she—but like her, he remained its steadfast protector. He knew the fate of the Abyssal Hunters long before anyone else did, yet kept his Hunters in the dark so that they, too, would remain faithful defenders of their nation. He wouldn't abandon Ægir so casually.

He said that Ægir chose the path to their own destruction.

Over the last year, Gladiia had been pushing back against a realization forming in her mind. She denied it as fervently as she could. She buried herself in her duty, growing more and more reactionary in her thoughts and expressions. In reaction to the doubt growing inside of her, she became a voice of unyielding allegiance.

She no longer believed in Ægir. Perhaps she never truly did. Ægir was the nation that hated her, from the moment she was born. She was a mistake, an aberration marring its perfect leadership. An unwanted child who deposed her mother and took her place as Consul, who was cast into the Abyss for daring to try and stand on her own. Ægir never wanted her, and it threw her away the moment it became convenient to.

But the land could never be her home. Unlike Skadi and Laurentina, she could never find joy and companionship among the land-dwellers. Only her own could fill that void in her life. Even if Ægir did not want her, she needed Ægir. Without it, without her company, without her battalion, she was nothing.

It took over a year for her to begin to doubt that, too. She came around more slowly than her compatriots, but even now, she couldn't deny that she'd grown closer to a few of the land-dwellers. At first, she held that Kal'tsit was unique. While that may be true, as it would turn out, in the ways that mattered, Kal'tsit was entirely typical. Hinata. Irene. Tulip. Jordi. Blue Poison. Lanota. Utage. Hellagur. Hoshiguma. They were not of her kind—but her connections to each of them, whether superficial or very personal, slowly eroded that ever-present idea that she could only ever be happy surrounded by her own.

She spent so long away from the sea that she almost forgot what that battle was like. The inland sea held her dehydration at bay. It wasn't the ocean she knew—but it was a comfort all the same. In her service to Kal'tsit, acting as her right hand, she traveled across the land. The primitive splendors she saw, the dances she learned, the music she cherished, it all ate away at the idea that she could never belong anywhere but Ægir. It took a while for her to realize the damage done.

There was no hope for these people to ever stand against the Sea. She began to understand what Laurentina saw in them—but at the same time, she became clearly aware of their fragility. If even Ægir could no longer be the bastion the world needed against the Seaborn, they hadn't a ghost of a chance. In turn, as she glimpsed the truth of their vulnerability, she began to realize her own.

If Ægir was lost, the fight was lost.

The backwards land-dwellers, in their hovels they call kingdoms, had nary a clue what they faced. Not even Iberia knew. Even the smallest fraction of Seaborn might reduced Iberia to ruins. It never recovered from the Profound Silence—and it never would. The Inquisition could not even keep their own nation from cannibalizing itself. It was unable to even root out the Church of the Deep—no, rather, the Inquisition's draconian and discriminatory policies provided the perfect spawning grounds for the Church's virulent ideology. The Ægir descendants who remained in Iberia found more kinship in the Seaborn than they did the native Liberi, who hated and feared them.

If there was no hope for victory, then why fight in the first place?

Did it truly honor the fallen to lead what remained of their compatriots towards meaningless deaths? If the Seaborn were a truly insurmountable threat, then how could she justify tearing them away from the new home they've learned to love? Was she being cruel, pulling them without end towards their inevitable demise? Would it not be kinder to let them rest, and enjoy the time they still have left?

…Would it not be kinder to allow herself some peace in the last moments of her life? Would it not be more gentle to be with them, if her presence was some comfort? Even if she was haunted by shame at every moment, she was willing to endure anything for the sake of her Hunters. She would even endure becoming a traitor to her cause, and the memories of the deceased.

For the first time in her life since she was a child, Gladiia wanted to run.

#action post

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an-army-of-nightmares · 3 years

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Porcelain Jekyll au

This is gonna be long so heres a tldr

TLDR: Jekyll gets taken to a sort of real nightmare party full of dolls, if he misbehaves they'll kill him and if he's a perfect gentleman he'll turn into a doll. There's a branch where he's rescued and two where he turns into a doll

•The au starts with Jekyll going to sleep, timeline honestly doesn't matter as long as Frankenstein, Jasper, and Jekyll are all around. Could start where tgs currently is? But Jasper doesn't accidentally wake Jekyll up in his panic

•"The Party of Dolls" is basically a supernatural nightmare? I haven't found a better explanation but basically it's a nightmare that's real and happening, while still "just" being a nightmare. It takes you to like a different dimension while you sleep basically? (The party of dolls isn't the only one but that's not relevant)

•The dolls invite specific people, they invite people who want to be perfect. People who dont want anyone to hate them or find a flaw. Jekyll fits this perfectly

•Jekyll is taken to the party. He tries to be polite despite being unnerved. There's another human at the party, he doesn't learn the man's name before the man gets ripped apart by the dolls for shouting

The dolls target specific people, but they can still take "fodder", people they know will immediately break the rules. So that their actual guests can learn what happens if they are impolite. The dolls also surround guest on all sides, and have them in the exact middle, so that the guest cannot just run out

•Jekyll is terrified, now knowing he'll die if he does something wrong, he tries his best to be perfect

•Unknown to Jekyll, if he's "perfect" he'll start turning into a doll. Ultimately it's a die or die situation

•Jekyll does start to notice the porcelain creeping up him, its be hard not to. He is very much (silently) panicking. But,, the more porcelain on him the more calm he becomes, the more he acts as if this is a simple party and nothing is wrong

•Eventually he reaches a point where he'd actively resist being taken away from the party, but still not fully covered by porcelain

A quick note, Hyde can't do anything about the situation. He wasn't invited and the dolls are suppressing him so much he can hardly even tell what's happening, or leave the mindscape. He's absolutely terrified about this because he can Feel something is wrong and everything is just becoming more and more suffocating

Now onto the branches! There are 2 and a half branches for this au!

Branch 1: Jekyll gets rescued

(Assuming this takes place at Chapter 11 Page 8)

•Jekyll is asleep on the couch, Jasper rushes in the room like his panic on the page except this time Jekyll does not wake up at Jasper's sudden entry. Jasper, noticing Jekyll is asleep, silently contemplates on if this problem is really worth waking Jekyll. Because on the one hand he's probably overreacting in his mind, but on the other Jekyll is really the only person he can panic to?

•He decides not to wake Jekyll, and wait until it's properly morning or noon?, now that the panic is a bit subdued he probably still has stuff to ask Jekyll

•He goes up to find Jekyll is still asleep, and Zosi frantically pawing at Jekyll's chest, occasionally nibbling him, and seemingly really wants to wake Jekyll up. Jasper tries to wake him up but it seems no matter how hard he tries Jekyll stays asleep

•Seeing how Lanyon probably isn't in the Society at the moment (and besides Jasper is pretty sure Robert dislikes him) and he's currently avoiding Rachel. Jasper cant ask Jekyll's friends if this is normal behavior. Why doesn't he ask the lodgers? Maybe a combination of they all seem busy and still being a bit intimidated by them? So he goes to his last best bet, Frankenstein. She's, kinda a doctor and has traveled quite a bit, so she may know whats up with Jekyll and why Zosi is panicking

Note: This whole decision happens in like a few seconds while Jasper is panicking

•Frankenstein does not ease Jasper's worries

•Ah, I guess there has to be some sort of tell, something that makes it clear someone is in one of these "supernatural nightmares" and that Jekyll is specifically in the party of dolls. Idk yet what that tell would be. But Frankenstein knows and thats all that matters

•They take Jekyll back to the attic, lock the entry, and make preparations for a rescue mission

•Frankenstein will be going in to try and distract the dolls while Jasper will be looking for Jekyll. Creature is there as plan B in case the dolls get hostile towards them (as Creature is fully capable of lifting them all up and running out of there. And the dolls are very likely to get hostile towards them)

•They get in, how? I have no clue. But they do. Probably a potion?

•Jasper quickly finds Jekyll and tries to convince him to leave. Much to Jasper's concern, Jekyll doesn't want to leave, and keeps brushing the danger off

Frankenstein and Jasper dont know much about the nightmare. Its likely all they know is that its filled with dolls and people who are "invited" are never seen again/found dead

•Frankenstein's distraction consists of pointing out flaws in how the dolls act. The dolls keep finding excuses, but eventually become agitated with her

•Japser notices the porcelain on Jekyll and loudly panics, attracting the already agitated dolls attention

•Creature picks them all up and runs towards the doors. Jekyll is greatly struggling against this rescue attempt, but once they get out of the building and onto the stretch of yard before the exit Jekyll calms down significantly

Jekyll did not actually calm down, but rather Hyde managed to weasel control after they left the building. Hyde absolutely does not want to be at this party, and Jekyll's struggling could've jeopardized the rescue

•They get back! Whatever porcelain was on Jekyll falls off him with ease. He's angry for maybe half a day or more. But when the doll's control completely leaves him, he's nothing but relieved

Sidenote: It seems reasonable that this whole experience would leave Jekyll with a fear of going to sleep. Perhaps give him something that can deter these types of nightmares? A desire for the comfort of another person, at least in the room, while he's asleep?

Branch 2: Jekyll fully turns into a doll

•Well either Jekyll went to sleep at his own home or some place where no one would think to look for him, as if he was right in the society they'd certainly take notice that something is wrong

•Jekyll fully turns to porcelain. Once he's a full doll they give him new clothes (the sand/beige colored suit I tend to draw porcelain Jekyll in)

Previously, Jekyll had been wearing the suit he wears at any formal party, like the ball in An Army Of Nightmares

•Porcelain Jekyll gets back to the real world. This is not entirely out of the ordinary for the dolls to do. If a guest was reasonably young or famous they'll be returned once a doll, to make themselves more known or respectable before they "die" and go back to the party full time

•Zosi notices something is Wrong while Jekyll is asleep and tries to wake him up to no avail, Zosi can't bark for attention and he's scared of leaving Jekyll alone, the few times he does go out to find someone he's largely ignored or avoided, or they misinterpret what the zombie pup wants. When Jekyll does wake up, Zosi immediately notices that it's not Jekyll, at least not anymore. Zosi knows he's supposed to get rid of any evil creatures, but this was once Jekyll. So the pup runs away and avoids him instead

•ooo I dont want to describe this whole branch? This has already taken way longer for me to write then I want XD, just check out this reblog chain about it bsksndks

•

Branch 2 ½: Jekyll dies

•Jekyll fully turns into a doll, however instead of entering the real world his real body simply dies. He's found rotting in bed. "Jekyll" however, is still in the party. (Fun fact, this was the original plan for the au)

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Extra notes:

▪All the dolls in the party were once people, except for maybe one or two? A handful? But it has long since been lost who's who. And it never mattered

▪Lanyon would not have ever been invited to the party. He doesn't seem to want to be a gentleman, and he knows too much about etiquette to be fodder either

▪Jasper is a proper candidate to be invited, and in branch 2 "Jekyll" is giving him alot more lessons on how to be a proper gentleman, planning to invite Jasper to the party at some point

▪The party always has a host that they cycle though, the host talks to guests a bit more than everyone else

▪Porcelain Jekyll gets to keep his new clothes when returning to the real world

#porcelain Jekyll au #the glass scientists

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kylosgenesis · 3 years

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Teardrops on fire

Synopsis:

Steve Rogers is the last Alpha of the an almost extinct Lycan pack. With only less than 100 members left. Steve must produce an heir to ensure the species survival and reduce the chance of attacks from others. Omegas are rare, and betas have a hard time producing children. Steves reality is finally setting in as his obligation of producing an heir faces a major set back.

Reader is the last suitable omega to mate with Steve, due to the fear of her daughters fate in the pack, her mother kept her hidden from the pack after her own exile. Only her mother, and Bucky's family know of her existence. Bucky is Steve's right hand man, and the packs best warrior! He and the reader developed a friendship and bond over the years, but age forced them to become distant.

What happens when she presents and her first heat cycle comes? Her body is in excruciating pain and a strong fever quickly overcomes her body. Facing the fear of her daughters possible death, her mom calls on the only person who can save her at this point, Alpha Steve! Bucky and the alphas friendship will be tested. The reader will be faced with her love for Bucky or her duty to the pack.

Warnings: Mentions of death , A/B/O dynamics

Chapter 3: Leave a light on

Bucky and Steve packed a suitcase of supplies, they both knew it was a race against time at this point. Her body would become weak without the pheromones of an alpha, her changing hormones wouldn't be able to adapt for her body's transition into her designation. Her own body would become her worst enemy right now, and if they didn't make it in time she could die in a pool of her own slick and sweat as her body struggled to accommodate the change.

That was one of the reasons omegas became so rare! Over the course of thousands of years their bodies began to change.Even with an alpha, sometimes the transition was too much on their bodies! Not many would make it. The omega’s that did were meant to be the strongest women the packs had to offer, their wombs strong , healthy, and ready to accommodate an alpha.

There was an old wives tale that would travel around the packs about a perfect mate, a bond so strong that would turn two souls and bodies into one. Soul that have been meant to be together since the beginning of time, like a puzzle piece waiting for it’s perfect match .Always calling for each other! One way or another prevailing.

People stopped believing in those kinds of stories a long time ago!

“Steve,Is that everything?” Bucky was loading up the bags into the truck. His mother and Katerina had headed back to the cabin, hoping to get a head start and try to explain to her what would be going on. I believe so! We still don't know what we're walking into… Steve furrowed his brow with his hand. His free hand on his lower back. “Hell Buck! I don't even know what i'm supposed to do! Hey I'm Steve, you don't know me but i'm here to take you away from everything you've ever known… also I kinda have to mate with you to save your life.``

“I know it doesn't sound like the best plan! But it's all we can do right now.” Bucky wanted to reassure his friend, tell him it was all going to be alright. Deep down he himself was feeling uneasy. He wanted to crawl out of his skin. Why did their nature have to be like this? He felt like they were not that evolved from animals when it came to heats. She was probably scared, he wanted to reassure his friend that she would be okay with him.

Bucky remembered leaving her all those years ago. It broke his heart! Deep down Bucky didn't even want to see her. He couldn't live with the look of disappointment she'd give him. Or worse what if she wasn't disappointed, what if it was like the years didn't go by between them. How could he handle seeing her gentle eyes, knowing he couldn't return the same look back.

It wasn't even a question anymore! Any dream involving her he's had for the past ten years had to be thrown away! He had to forget her smile, her laugh, her smell! She was never meant to be his and now more than ever he had to put his pack first.

Bucky gave Steve a reassuring smile and motioned to the truck, they were losing daylight and they both had a long night ahead of them. Both lost within their own thoughts!

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She felt like she was being torn apart!

Yes, she's had some bad cramps during her cycle, but this pain was different! If felt like she was being completely ripped apart from the inside. She felt weak and both terribly hot and freezing at the same time.

She had this strong feeling to just stay in bed at the back of her mind, but she just couldn't let herself waste away in bed waiting for her mother. Her mom had called winifred after this morning, within the hour they were both gone! They said they'd be back my sundown with some supplies and someone who might help her. As the pain intensified she readied herself to go get some things that could help alleviate her. She remembered her mom taught her this recipe with mint, nuts, and berries, back when she had first gotten her period; many years ago. Sometimes when she was out fishing or hunting and she felt her body start to feel strange, she'd look for those, and boil some water for a tea. It provided instant relief for her, and she'd go back to her day like nothing happened.

Gathering the strength and courage; she walked out of the comfort of her cabin for a quick trip to get those three things. If only she could just have that tea ready, it would make the time waiting for her mom to get back bearable.She knew the woods like the back of her hand, she'd done it countless times where she knew where everything would be.

As she trekked further and further into the woods! She remembered she'd spotted a new mint bush a few days ago, with the old one in the opposite direction she decided to just to just go with her memory and find that one.

Even though she knew these woods by heart, her pounding head and aching body made it a struggle for her focus long enough to orient herself.

She stopped to catch her breath and suddenly felt aware of the heat taking over her body. In the distance, the sounds of the running current of the creek, screamed for her to just get in to find some relief. All she wanted was just to dip her feet in and feel the water run beneath her feet.

The icy water prickled through her skin and it showed her more than the heat did, eventually her body and mind relaxed and she just closed her eyes for what felt like two seconds.

Suddenly the floor beneath was overtaken by a current, she was too weak to swim or fight .So she just let the current run its course; dragging along her weakened body.

In just an instant! She was harshly dragged away from the little bit of forest she knew!

She woke up hours later in the darkness!

The current had dumped her near the bank.

She could tell it was still territory, but it was all unknown and new to her. She definitely did not have the strength to follow the stream, so with what little strength she had, she started a fire! She laid down next to it hoping that morning would come soon, and give her the strength she needed to return home.

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When they exited the car they could smell her, but it was lingering and faded. Bucky’s senses were on fire! That smell drove him insane. It awoke every muscle in his being, he’s partially glad that it wasn’t fully her, just the lingering trace of her scent.

He couldn’t do that to Steve. He had to mask his face, pretend she didn’t smell like air after you’ve been holding your breath for ten years.

“Where is she ?” Steve was worried, not only was this his omega, but she was a part of his pack now. His Alpha nature led him to worry about her, even if he didn't fully know her or understood her yet.

All Steve knew is that he felt drawn to her! He needed to protect her and care for her! Seeing the small cabin was like a punch to his gut! He couldn't believe that there were people in his pack living like this.

The roof needed work, the inside was just enough to be considered cozy, but not comfortable!. It was all patched together! He understood that it was the best that they could do with the circumstances, but his heart was swelling with pride at the idea of bringing his omega to his home. For her to finally know comfort, and not want for anything, he'd take better care of her than his own self. Her smell told him everything he needed to know about her, it was like she was made for him, and he was made for her,

Steve looked to Katerina and back to Bucky.

He couldn't understand how this place had been here for such a long time without him knowing about it, Steve remembered his dad's cruel nature. It wasn't beneath him to cast out a pregnant woman to fend for herself, but why hasn't she tried coming back once his father had died. Steve would have let them back! He knew why she was scared and distrustful of him. He probably reminded her of the person who took her life from her.

As the sky grew darker it became impeccably evident that something had gone terribly wrong. Bucky knew it! He had a bad feeling sinking at the pit of his stomach. No experienced hunter, like herself would be out past sundown. The woods become too dangerous and unforgiving even to experienced people.

Bucky taught her to know the woods. She could track.! If she’s out there she’s probably injured and in a bad situation. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“ Clint, Nat, you guys will take the northern side of the river, there's a lot of territory there so I trust you guys will be okay as a team!,” Steve was guiding them to a spot marked on the map, he drew a circle through the section with with finger the over caressing his chin in thought.

“Tony, you will cover the west end on the river… over by this side” Bucky said over Steves planning and was pointing Tony to his designated research area.

Bucky and Steve had gone into a full missing persons mission. They had mapped out the territory and had called the strongest members of the pack. Most of them were a part of the packs defense team. They were all loyal to Steve and led by Bucky as the commander of the pack's small army.

Bucky’ s mind was not at the best place! He was slowly becoming more feral with desperation. “What if an outsider smelled her and crossed territories?” The thought was just too dangerous to entertain and Bucky kept going!

After hours of searching, the search party grew cold, hungry, and tired! Steve was called off the search party as the weather grew harsher, he was worried about his pack. They had families to tend to, and needed rest.

Steve was going in by himself, and Bucky wasn’t about to let his best friend do it alone. Going in just by themselves would be a risk, but they both knew how strong they had to be! They could rest later! She was all that mattered right now!

He wouldn’t stop searching till he had turned every rock on the territory! Every little corner if this damn reserve would be searched! He would find his ... Steve’s mega.

Bucky was the best tracker in his pack and even neighboring packs. If anyone needed anybody or anything found, Bucky was the best in the business. He was strong, determined, and could be ruthless with deserters who would try to run away from the pack after stealing or injuring a member!. Nobody had made it past the territory without Bucky catching them first.

They called him the Winter Soldier! While others found the harsh temperatures, and unforgiving terrain hard to navigate and specially survive; Bucky seemed to read the wind and knew how to use the weather to his advantage. He was the best there was.

If he could not find her he might as well never find anybody else in his entire life. He count fail her. He needed her!...She needed him!

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Her whole body ached!

She couldn’t get up from this one. She knew she’d only survive a few hours, maybe a day or two without food, and in this weather. She just placed herself inside a hollow trunk, and cradled her body to preserve as much heat as possible. She was thankful that the fever was a bit of a heat source, but cursed at the cold chills it gave her. Soon her body relaxed and she wondered what death would feel like.

She thought of her life.

Her mom.

It hurt so much when she thought of him! As she thought of him, her heart was agonizing in longing, but her body was slowly responding. Her fever had subsided, and she tried stepping out of the trunk. She stumbled and lost her footing, but just as she was about to collapse near the now extinguished fire, she felt a pair of strong arms break her fall.

She thought she was probably dead now!

Looking at her, where the most piercing blue eyes she’d ever seen! His hair now at his shoulders, and a beard forming around his face. He looked different than her mind had imagined him all these years. She allowed herself to relax in his arms, and her eyes filled with tears as she passed out; surrounded by his smell , and waiting for this delusion to be over.

They said death had a way of making people feel comfort, and happiness before the light at the end. But this seemed so real! she wasn't scared of dying anymore, she was scared he wouldn't be there if she woke up again.

Tags: @austynparksandpizza @connie326 @nerdgirljen @exposition-belongs-somewhere

#alpha bucky x omega reader #alpha steve x omega reader #alpha steve rogers #alpha bucky #alpha beta omega #omega reader #a/b/o #steve rogers #james bucky barnes #omegaverse

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wastelandcth · 3 years

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Better Love - cth

part two: the wild and us

summary: Maeve and Calum meet. The rain outside puts on a show.

author’s notes: I hope you guys enjoyed the first part of this series! This part had one of my favorite scenes I’ve ever written so I hope you enjoy!

warnings: mentions of drinking, mentions of breakups, mentions of food.

masterlist || request || join my taglist!

part one

Staring in the blackness at some distant star The thrill of knowing how alone we are, unknown we are To the wild and to the both of us

"What are you doing in my hotel?" she asked shakily, her wariness prevalent in the way her voice shook as she stared at the man in front of her.

The towel she was pulling closer to her body felt like nothing in the room with him. Maeve, who had only made it back to the cabin an hour prior, had expected to be alone. She'd hadn't expected to walk out of her shower to find a tall man sleeping in the bed she'd rented out for the week. She also hadn't expected the rainstorm to be so bad, her weather app claiming her entire week here would be sunny and perfect for hiking, so finding a man in her cabin hadn't been in her plans either.

And wow was he a sight for sore eyes.

"What are you doing in my cottage?" he asked, Maeve's eyebrow raising as she heard the trace of an accent, "Mrs. Bagby rented this place out to me, she never said there was someone already staying here," he huffed, his eyebrows furrowing as he studied Maeve's.

"Mrs. Bagby? Who the hell is Mrs. Bagby? I'm renting this from Mrs. Baird," Maeve said, "I was here first! You're the intruder!"

Maeve, who had always been prepared to debate with anyone, was not backing down no matter how exposed she was in front of a handsome man. She wasn't going to stand for a stranger barging into her space, she needed this vacation more than anything in this world and she'd be damned if she let this ruin it. She watched as the man in front of her opened and closed his mouth, looking like a fish out of the water as he tried to come up with a solution to the very obvious problem. If Maeve was honest, she had no idea how the confusion had happened or how they'd both ended up in this situation, but she didn't have much time to think about it.

The thunder outside shook the walls of the small cabin, rattling the jars and the decorations on the walls throughout, and it wasn't until Maeve heard the crack of lightning that she realized just how bad the storm outside had become. The view outside the window had been fogged, the colorful autumn trees disappearing behind the wall of water falling from the sky as the landscape blurred into a mixture of grey and orange with red splotches. Maeve, whose attention had switched from the man in the green hoodie to the raging storm outside, had grabbed the pile of clothes she'd left on the dresser. Without another word, she walked back towards the bathroom and made sure to twist the lock before she let out a breath.

The man in her bedroom for the week had been, breathtaking to say the least. His eyes, although wide and filled with confusion when Maeve had looked into them, were brown and shone even in the gloominess of the weather His hair was short, the tufts of blonde hair curling near the ends. Maeve guessed that his hair had been a darker color naturally, the roots she'd spotted proving her point. He looked like a kind person, maybe he was like Maeve as well, just another person looking for an escape.

That's all her trip to this cabin was meant to be, an escape.

Maeve's life had always been simple if you could call it that. She'd been born on a rainy afternoon, her mother liked to tell her it was because she was meant to outshine the sun itself. Her parents, who'd met in Scotland years before she ever came to take her first breath, had always told her about the magic the country had to offer. They told her stories of the forests so vast and large that even the biggest of problems could shrink down into pebbles that flowed away in the rivers. She'd grown up in a small town, dreaming of the wonders that Scotland had for her when she was old enough to see them.

Maeve had moved when her time at university peaked when her nose was stuck in books that spoke all about the history and the cultures that made up the world. It had been the first time in her life that she'd been away from her parents, from the only home she had ever known, and it had been so thrilling. She went from only traveling to big cities for concerts or when her father had needed to run errands to living right in the heart of all the commotion. The quiet nights that had been filled with only cicadas singing into the night were replaced by the sound of a city, alive and cheerful at all hours of the day. Maeve had never experienced so much at such a fast pace and her life at her university flew by before she had a chance to slow down. One day she was unpacking her bags in her dorm and the next she was accepting her diploma and applying to jobs around the country. She felt the burnout, felt the way her brain tensed whenever she read through application requirements and the thought of having to pack up her life again. She felt the way her eyes forced themself open while riding the train to interviews. She knew that she needed a break, a few days off to remember who she was and what she wanted in life. To make matters worse, her relationship had been going downhill. She'd met James at a social event the school had put on, both of them were in the same program so it wasn't hard to make conversation with him. After too many history jokes and a trip to the campus bar, Maeve found herself awake in his arms as he slept. She'd laid there that first night, looking out at the stars through his window, wondering why she'd felt a pull towards a different place, a different person.

That feeling hadn't stopped since that night, she'd stayed with James, he was a nice guy who made her laugh and kept her company as they both studied. But he wasn't someone she saw herself spending the rest of her life with. She had a feeling that James felt the same way even if they were both too afraid to admit that the spark that had been there before was fiddling out. The arguments were getting worse, the silence lasting longer as time went on. It wasn't until one night when Maeve had been studying for a final exam that it had all exploded. Words were thrown around, tears were shed, and she was left feeling like something was wrong with her. She couldn't understand why she couldn't love James as he loved her, she'd turn distant and pushed him away until all that was left between them was a broken flower vase and tears.

That's why she'd jumped on the opportunity to fly to Scotland when it arose. She'd been sitting at her desk, scrolling through an endless list of applications and teaching opportunities when the email had popped up. She'd read through it a couple of times, making sure she wasn't imagining the words on the screen. Her professor, who'd helped her in more ways than one could count, had recommended her for a teaching job abroad. She would have to visit the school, make sure that it was both a right fit for her and for the administration, but it seemed like they were more than ready to offer her a spot and helping her make Edinburgh her home.

Mrs. Baird, the lovely older woman who had driven Maeve up to the cabin and helped her unpack, had told her that she was glad she'd arrived a few days earlier after Maeve had told her all about why she was visiting Scotland at such an odd time of year. She'd been a curious soul ever since Maeve had stepped out of the taxi that had taken her from the train station out to the main residence Mrs. Baird had seemed to be the owner of. She'd asked Maeve all sorts of questions, which Maeve had taken as to her host just making sure she wasn't escaping from anyone dangerous or anything like that, it was a tough time to be a woman traveling alone.

"Oh, I'm sure you'll love the spot you'll be staying in then. It's very private, it'll be good for you to clear your head and relax before your big interview," she'd nodded as she packed up a few bags with groceries Maeve hadn't recalled reading about on the website.

"Oh, um, I don't think I paid for anything like that, Mrs. Baird," Maeve chuckled and shook her head, "I was thinking of just popping into town and picking up a few essentials."

"Oh don't you worry, darling! It's my pleasure. Plus, the cottage is quite secluded so it'd take you almost half a day to get to the shops and back," she shrugged, "Let's get going, yeah?"

The drive up to the cabin had been slow and gave Maeve a chance to take in the sights. The forest was alive with colors that Maeve's eyes had craved to see. It seemed like everything her parents had told her about the place they'd met was still the same. The trees still sway in the chilly breeze and somewhere in the distance, a river flowed with a power that only came with years of flowing and receiving rain. The drive itself had been plenty enough to get Maeve excited about her days of rest but the second her eyes saw the stone bridge that led to her home for the next couple of days, she knew her life was about to change. After helping Mrs. Baird with bringing in all the bags and thanking her for the candles she'd also brought, telling her a rainstorm was predicted to pass through the next day, Maeve was alone.

Her first day in the cabin had been spent unpacking and unwinding. Mrs. Baird had been kind enough to bring a bottle of Scottish whiskey, telling her," when in Scotland" and Maeve had sampled the liquor, letting it burn her throat as she stared out at the river flowing outside her bedroom window. Her trip had been going great so far, she'd successfully beaten jetlag, had managed not to burn the small kitchen down during her dinner, and she had taken a nice and relaxing show when the rainstorm had shown up the next day. She'd made sure to light a few candles around the place, not wanting to walk around in the dark if the power did go out. Then, of course, everything took a turn for the unexpected when Maeve walked out of the bathroom and was met by a man sleeping in her bed.

By the time she'd walked out of the bathroom again, fully dressed and a little more confident in herself, the power had gone out and the whole cabin had been illuminated with an orange glow coming from the candles. The man was no longer in the bedroom, but the storm outside the window was winding up more and more as the seconds passed. She knew she couldn't make him walk out in the forest during the storm, it was too dangerous and mean in general to kick someone out in the middle of a downpour. So she'd let the guy stay until the storm passed and then they'd both walk down to the main residence and sort out whatever the hell was happening.

"Calum," he mumbled, looking over as Maeve stepped out into the living room, "I'm Calum."

"Maeve," she replied with a nod, "You're not here to murder me, right?"

Calum chuckled and shook his head, which made Maeve warm and sent a shiver down her spine. His smile was nice, a murderer wouldn't have waited for her to get dress unless he was into that, she thought. She'd smiled at him, tugging the sleeves of her sweater down a bit as she looked around the living room. The candles gave the entire room a moody glow, the storm had stopped the sunshine from coming in through the windows and it had felt later on in the day than it actually was.

"So...tea?" she asked softly as she motioned towards the kitchen.

Maeve had found out that Calum, which was a very fitting name for the man sitting across from her watching the rain outside, had been in Scotland for a little over two weeks. He'd been traveling on his own, exploring the smaller cities and seeing what the Highlands had to offer. Maeve had told him about her interview, confessing that she wasn't the most prepared and that these few days before were to help her hopefully calm down. To her surprised, she’d learned that Calum was a professor at a university near his town, both of their widening at the confession of just how similar they were.

"That's exciting, what are you hoping to teach?” Calum asked, his eyes meeting hers in the candlelight, “I specialize in Art History.”

“History,” she nodded, a blush on her cheeks, her eyes glancing down to the cup of tea that had been warming her hands, “I’ve always loved studying it and I want to help others learn about it too.”

“Yeah? I get that. The history department at my school isn’t the best Some older man names Rainer runs it like it’s still warm times,” Calum chuckled, “He’s the worst.”

Maeve laughed, shaking her head as she thought about her fair share of professors who had yet to catch up with the times She thought about what kind of instructor Calum was. It was only his second year teaching so was he the one who made his students excited for lessons ahead? Did he use fun activities and assignments to incorporate them into his plans? Maybe he assigned cool projects, where the main point was to gain a bigger understanding of something a student has been wanting to talk about. Calum seemed like the type and from what Maeve had learned about the man in the short hours she’d known him, she knew he was kind and attentive.

“How was your hike up here?” Calum asked as he set the cup of tea down on the table, his legs stretching out as his head leaned on the back of the couch.

“Hike?” Maeve asked, furrowing her eyebrows as she looked over at him.

“Yeah, I left around like five and didn’t get here until ten,” Calum chuckled and shrugged, “And somehow you look like you just took a leisurely drive up here,” he teased, sitting up as he saw the look on Maeve’s face, “Oh my god, you drove up here, didn’t you?”

"In my defense," Maeve giggled out, holding her arms up, "Mrs. Baird offered to bring me up here"

"Oh, and she forced me to walk for five hours and fall in the mud!?" Calum whined, shaking his head as he let out a groan, "She's so not getting a good review from me, whatever her name may be."

Maeve laughed softly, watching the way Calum ran a hand down his face and pouted over at her. She was surprised at how easily they both got along, usually, Maeve had trouble getting out of her own head and talking to new people. But with Calum things just felt so carefree. She wasn't sure if it was such a good thing, opening up to a complete stranger who had been booked into the same cabin as her, but the rain outside wasn't letting up and she was more than willing to work out a compromise to share with him until the rain stopped and they could take the quad bike Mrs. Baird had told Maeve about before leaving her in the middle of nowhere.

"Do you want to go freshen up? I'm sure your five-hour hike up here more than justifies a nice warm bath," Maeve nodded, giggling as Calum glared playfully over at her, "I'll try and mix something up for lunch?"

"That sounds lovely, if the rain doesn't stop soon I'll make us dinner," Calum shrugged, standing up from the couch and walking over to the entrance of the cabin, gathering his bag and a pile of clothes that Maeve hadn't even noticed were on the floor before making his way over to the bathroom.

The rain had not stopped by the time Calum had gotten out of the bath, much to Maeve’s pleasure since she’d heard his soft voice singing along to whatever song he’d been playing. The rain hadn't stopped while the two ate their lunch, a stew that Maeve had managed to throw together in the tiny kitchen. And the rain had, surprisingly, not stopped while Calum had been bustling around the kitchen a few hours later, making dinner while Maeve read through one of the many books she’d packed with her for her trip If she hadn’t known anything about Scotland before traveling there, she would’ve assumed the Earth was flooding and that her adventure abroad would end before it even started.

It wasn’t until a crack of thunder rocked the walls of the cabin that Maeve realized just how extreme the weather has turned. The window was howling against the windows, shaking the panes with the intensity of it. The power had yet to come back and as the day had gone by, the cabin had only grown gloomier and gloomier. Their only source of light had been the many candles that their host has left them, something Maeve would be eternally grateful for. They crackled and glowed in the darkness of whatever room Maeve would get up to look out the window through. Her shadows mixed with the firelight and danced across the dark walls of the safety she’d come to know in her short stay. The river outside of the house, which was louder now that it was filled with rainwater, had grown taller as Maeve would barely see the giant rocks inside of the river which had caused the small rapids earlier in the day.

It was all terrifyingly beautiful.

Nature had put on a show for her and Calum, letting them in on the secret dance the forest and elements did for one another. The trees danced with the wind, swaying wildly from side to side and switching directions when they pleased. The river water jumped over the stone bridge above it, splashing cold water onto the top and lowering as it sprinkled back down onto itself. The woodland animals, who would be hiding in the safety of their own homes, hidden somewhere Maeve couldn’t quite see but hoped they’d be just as amazed watching the show that the world put on for them. It was all so terrifying and violent, the rain submitting to no one but itself as he disappeared into the river only to come down harder from the clouds in the night sky. It wasn’t until the thunder, which had been singing a song for the forest itself, cracked again that the stone bridge took its final bow.

Maeve watched as the bridge crumbles. It started slowly, one of two big pieces crumbling into the river below as if by accident. But the water was cruel and greedy, splashing upwards and sending more and more stone into its hands. Maeve, who could do nothing more than watch as their only way back out to civilization crumbled and washed away into the river below, gasped and leaned against the window. The glass shook underneath her hands, the wind greeting her palms from the outside and howling in excitement as the once-solid bridge was split into two pieces, never to meet again, as the final act of nature’s show came to an end.

“Did you hear that?” Calum asked as he walked into the bedroom, where Maeve had been watching the show, “Maeve?”

She turned to face the stranger, her wide eyes softening as she was met with the definition of a word she couldn’t place in her brain. Calum had changed into a pair of joggers, the grey material hanging loosely off his hips and only held up by a haphazardly tied knot. His upper half was dressed in a warm green sweater, the color reminding her of the fields of green she’d seen on the train ride to the small town, his board shoulder stretching the fabric a little bit in the candlelight, he looked breathtaking. Maeve knew he was good-looking, it was one of the first things she’d noticed when he’d jumped up from the bed with tired eyes that had been filled with fear. He was beautiful and kind and…stuck with Maeve.

“T-the bridge,” she stuttered out, her cheeks flushing as she realized Calum was still standing in front of her waiting for an answer, “The bridge fell.”

taglist: @hoodhoran @finelliine @moonlightcriess @dinosaursandsocks @mxgyver @calpops @karajaynetoday @notlukehemmo @calumrose @devilatmydoor @lyss-xo @lowkeyflop @matchacal @hemmo1996-5sosvevo @myloverboyash @2fangirl4u @multistann

#calum hood x oc #calum hood x reader #calum hood x you #calum hood imagines #calum hood fics #calum hood blurbs #calum hood #5sos x reader #5sos x oc #5sos x you #5sos imagines #5sos fics #5sos blurbs #5sos #5 seconds of summer #better love series #gemma writes

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anobscurename · 4 years

Text

ocean eyes – chris evans

previous part: PART XIV — masterlist

concept: the second night at the hamptons. you finally confess your feelings, but in the only way you know how. the slowest of slow burns. part fifteen of many.

pairing: chris evans x reader

word count: 1,2k

warnings: fluff and angst, maybe tears (i cried)

author's note: this is it. this is the singular scene and song that inspired this entire story. this one is dedicated to @efferuse and billie eilish :)

An unhealthy coping mechanism, that was what it was.

You could acknowledge that, but when you knocked back another shot – unsure of whether it was tequila or vodka anymore – and became a little bit more numb, you knew it was a necessary evil.

It was your newfound secret to loosening up and being more at ease around them, in spite of that little stab of pain in your chest every now and then when you'd spot the tiny – to innocent bystanders – yet utterly monumental – to you – signs of affection between the happy couple. The loving smiles that crinkled the corners of his eyes, the hand holding, the protective cuddle of his arm around her...

You had other people to speak to, and to hold your attention, and it didn't hurt as much. But that night...

You had been known to sing around the house sometimes, and were a little adept at the ukelele. Chris had heard you playing late at night when he'd get home from set, singing softly to Dodger. It always made him smile a little to himself, not that you'd noticed. But you knew he knew about your little hobby, seeing as on more than one occasion he'd seen you playing on the couch and – sometimes – he'd even join you and just listen, Dodger's head on his lap. You hadn't minded then, but you certainly minded now when he brought it up.

"Can we get some music going?" Sebastian groaned, rifling through the cooler box you had all managed to drag outside to the fire pit.

Chris gave you a mischievous smile, and you already knew what was about to be said.

"No. No. Christopher Robert Evans–"

"I know a little someone who–"

"–I swear to God I will–"

"–can play the uke!"

"–castrate you!"

Both of you had been a jumble of trying to talk over one another, you threatening his very possibility for future children and him outing your hidden talent. Or lack thereof. There was a reason you didn't really play for large audiences.

But they hadn't heard you, they had heard only him, and soon enough, everyone was asking – no, begging – for one song, just one song.

Maybe the alcohol had made you compliant enough to say yes, or maybe you knew they'd never let it go – whatever the reason was, you retrieved the ukelele from your room and sat down in front of the firepit once more, completing the seated circle around the soft ember glow. You had brought it with you, because what's a beach house vibe without some uke?

A song to sing... You battled your mind, trying to find one, just a single song to sate the people. Your fingers absentmindedly moved along the chords as you thought and...

One look at Chris, a soft, encouraging smile on his lips, and suddenly the perfect song came to mind. Looking down and away, you cleared your throat, and began to strum.

And then, in the gathered hush of the backyard, fire crackling and ocean waves crashing in the distance, you began to sing:

I've been watching you

For some time

You glanced up, fingers dancing over the strings. You found yourself magnetically drawn to Chris' gaze.

Can't stop staring

At those ocean eyes

He was transfixed, your voice, the music, that look you were giving him. It was like there was no one else in the universe, just you, and him, and that song. He swallowed thickly, his heart heavy and pounding dully in his chest.

Burning cities

And napalm skies

Fifteen flares inside those ocean eyes

You knew it was wrong, to be doing this. But no song was going to capture the emotion you felt, at that very moment. Not like this. This song was too perfect to let pass, unsung. A mirror to your mind.

Your ocean eyes

You finally managed to tear your own eyes away and take a quick glance at everyone else. They were watching, smiling, listening in hushed awe. Feeling like it was better to look down, you continued to play, teasing the melody from taut strings.

No fair

You really know how to make me cry

When you gimme those ocean eyes

You were staring blankly now, and although all eyes were on you, you only really cared about one pair, one pair of ocean blue eyes. But she was there, and she was kind, and beautiful, and she was who he belonged with. She was who he was with.

I'm scared

I've never fallen from quite this high

Falling into your ocean eyes

Those ocean eyes

It was almost magic, some deep impulse to look at him again. You were completely and utterly drawn to him. But he wasn't smiling anymore. He had a new look on his face, one you couldn't quite discern behind a heated gaze. But you had a song to finish, and that look could be puzzled through later.

I've been walking through

A world gone blind

You finally managed to look at her, and she was nodding along, smiling, blissfully unaware of your emotions. Of the meaning behind the words. Of why you had chosen this incredibly relevant song.

Can't stop thinking of your diamond mind

What was that look he was giving you? What did it mean? He seemed deep in thought, as if something was bothering him. His brow was creased, pensive and attentive, eyes flickering over every micro movement you made, piecing together a puzzle that he had never really thought to piece together before. A puzzle that had seemed unfathomable to him. Fuck, did he know? Well, it wasn't like you were being subtle. Not with a song all about falling for someone with ocean eyes, and his were as blue as they come. Oceanic. Ugh, why had you not just kissed him? It would've been less obvious. You hid your growing panic by continuing. Just make it through, and try not to look at him again. Simple...

Careful creature

Made friends with time

He left her lonely with a diamond mind

And those ocean eyes

Easier said than done, your eyes travelled to his, and they met, and suddenly, it was like an understanding was passing between the two of you. You weren't being dramatic. He knew. He knew, and your heart was aching, and it looked like he knew that too. He knew how you had felt. Still felt. And if you let yourself admit it... how you'd probably always feel. But not only that. One quick glance at her, and it was like she knew too. The smile was gone from her lips, and you felt a wave of nausea hit you like a ten ton truck.

The last chorus left your lips shakily, but no less beautifully, and you were quick to silence yourself when it was finally done, setting the uke aside.

Uproarious applause broke the stillness from the other guests, Chris smiling tensely and clapping softly, but she didn't move. Didn't even blink.

But in spite of all that, you couldn't help but remember the way he looked at you. That realization. That little twinkle of something deliciously mysterious and unknown in those ocean eyes.

The tears in your own eyes hadn't registered until now. But, like a dam spilling over from heavy rainfall, tears were streaming, and you couldn't stop them.

"{Your name?}" Chris said softly, leaning forward. He was barely audible over the chatter of the other guests – who, after the conclusion of the song, had gone back to their idle drunken conversations – but you heard him. Concern laced his voice, evident in his eyes, his furrowed brow. "Are you okay?"

You waved him off dismissively, disguising your sniffle with a strained chuckle. "Yeah, just some smoke from the fire got in my eye."

You quickly stood, and used the replacement of your uke in your room as an excuse to exit the sudden tensities of the situation.

From the corner of your eye you saw Chris, worried, begin to rise – to check on you, no doubt – but she shot out a quick hand, lacing her fingers with his. She shook her head ever so slightly, but the intention was clear: don't go to her, stay with me.

Your heart sank with his silhouette as you watched him sit back down beside her, welcoming her into his arms as they looked out to the beach. His choice was clear. As was your rejection.

You shut your door behind you and cursed yourself for being so stupid. In what world was that a good idea? You basically serenaded him. You had finally given yourself away – truly, madly, deadly – and for what?

A mournful sob escaped your lips, one you fought to stifle with your hand to your mouth. Back pressed against the door, you sank to the floor, too weak to keep standing. Too weak to continue the charade.

And just like that, you broke.

You finally broke, because you knew you'd lost him.

Lost him, and his ocean eyes.

#chris evans/you #chris evans fanfic #chris evans x you #chris evans x reader #dina writes #chris evans #chris evans angst #chris evans fluff

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monokrxme · 4 years

Text

obe | kim namjoon

what would you do if you woke up in someone else’s body?

••••••••••••••••••

I can say this now after finishing the promotions...I felt powerless.

But we said to ourselves, like a spell,

"We should be happy"

"We have to smile"

I said that to the members over and over again,

"If we don't, our fans will lose their drive, and their passion"

Well about the concert...

It's tough I feel powerless. We prepared a lot of things in order to focus on us. We practiced incredibly hard. We feel frustrated.

This time, I feel so sad and frustrated for not being able to see you all in person.

It was tough...

It will be tough, for the time being, but....

I love you.

I love you deeply,

I love you all so much, to the furthest extent of what I know about love and what is possible...

•••••••••••••••••••••

I sighed softly as Namjoon ended the VLIVE with a soft "I love you all" and his signature good-bye kiss to ARMYs. I exited out the app, going through my app notifications and turning off the ones from Twitter for the night since those always go off the most while I'm asleep.

Once that was finished I plugged my phone in on the charger, set it beside my pillow and rolled over onto my right side, snuggled in the blankets as I tried to go to sleep.

But that was the issue. I couldn't.

Namjoon's words kept ringing in my head and I couldn't help but let my eyes shed a few tears; they too were so upset and frustrated that they could not show ARMYs everything that they had prepared for this long-awaited comeback.

Due to the rampant spread of the COVID-19 virus, many countries have taken precautions in order to prevent the spread of the illness. Some of these precautions have included limiting travel in and outside of said countries, as well as a limit or cancellation of public events in an attempt for people to avoid large crowds.

Because of this when it came to performance shows, artists had to perform without live audiences. To know that the boys missed ARMYs as much as we missed them tore my heart apart.

They have always given their all for ARMYs and have often been much too hard on themselves if they felt they had "failed" or disappointed us in some way. We always did our best to reassure them but BTS always felt the need to try harder for us in an effort to redeem themselves. It was as if they wanted to reaffirm the strong bond that ARMYs shared with them...

If only they knew truly how much we loved and supported them. Mistakes and all.

I sighed heavily as my heart filled with discontent at the thought of the boys being unhappy, but they were human too and were entitled to their emotions and desires just as much as anyone else was.

Hell, ARMY would argue they deserved the entire world and then some, fuck, the entire damn universe. I smiled softly at that thought, me being one of the millions of our beautiful family who also believed this and allowed my eyes to close as my eyelids grew heavy and droopy, sleep washing over me slowly like an incoming tide.....

•••••••••••••••••••••••••

.......it felt lukewarm to the touch. Comfortable and inviting as it enveloped my body and slowly drew it from the shore and into the wide expanse of ocean......

......it was quiet, the nature kind of quiet, where you hear the soft lull of crickets and night bugs calling to each other, the distant hoot of an owl, prowling for its next meal, the gentle ocean breeze caressing the skin that was exposed to the air, whistling softly in my ears......

.......my nostrils tingled at the sharp, salty scent of the ocean, my body rocking to the rhythm of the baby waves that carried me further away from the shoreline.......

Y/N: 《Well this is lovely, my dreams have never looked like this before.....so calm and serene...》

My eyes flew open as I realized I had spoken this out loud to myself, though softly, as if not to disturb anyone. And by anyone I meant the delicateness of the quiet solitude that enveloped me ever so generously.

It was then I also realized that I was no longer in the comfort of my bed at home, but actually floating in the middle of the ocean, which had drawn me out several hundred yards away from the shore. My heart started to pick up speed in my chest as panic slowly set into my mind, my sense of reason and calm collectness fighting against it viciously.

Y/N: 《Don't panic Y/N. Nothing good comes from panicking...the real question is how I got here in the first place...?》

I thought this to myself as I swallowed nervously, my mouth having built up saliva quite suddenly from my anxiousness.

And yet, just as quickly as I had felt the lump of panic forming in my throat and my limbs growing rigid from fear, it was immediately washed away once my eyes glanced up at the sky.

It was a breathtaking sight; not a single cloud in the sky, the color of a deep, rich blue-black ink, splattered with millions upon millions of twinkling white stars, like dazzling jewels that shimmered in the sunlight. But what was most stunning was the moon; it was full and shining magnificently, the white gleaming starkly against the soft hues of the gray that scattered its surface, a soft moonlight cascading down gently to sparkle on the surface of the water.

I was so enamored by this astonishing nighttime scene, as if it were something out of a movie. A rom-com to be exact, where the moonlight seems to bring out the deepest, hidden desires of intimacy that the protagonists yearn to share with one another. Even though those scenes were cheesy, they were always my favorite ones and always managed to bring a tears to my eyes.

I smiled softly, allowing my eyes to languidly follow the moonlight's path, basking in its afterglow, when my eyes widened in shock and disbelief; where the light ended exposed yet another floating body in the water. This person was also still, but since they were a couple yards off, I couldn't tell if they were conscious or not.

Instinct kicked in and before I knew it, I was swimming towards them, with a purpose but not to disturb the tranquility of the atmosphere around us. For all I knew, even if this was a dream, if this person awoke in a panic they'd drown in seconds. Once I did manage to catch up to them, their body had floated out of the moon's glow, thus their face was obscured in the dark where the light couldn't reach.

Keeping my legs in motion underwater to keep me afloat, I gently grabbed this person's hand and slipped my other one under the water to firmly grip their ankle and pull them into the light to identify them.

It was as I crept closer to the light I realized I was nude. Stark naked. And so was this person, who I was able to see was a male, and you can assume why.

With a burning cheeks and a flustered state, I finally managed to pull this unknown man into the luminescence of the moon. When I looked at his face my heart stopped, literally, it was as if the wind were knocked out of me and I had forgotten how to breathe.

It was none other than Kim Namjoon, otherwise known as RM of BTS. Naked. Wet. And glimmering in the limelight of the moon, in the middle of an ocean that I wasn't even sure was real or not.

It was suddenly very cold as a wave of goosebumps crawled across my flesh, the blood roaring in my ears as I stared at him, wide-eyed and in awe, my heart thumping crazily in my chest as fast as a hummingbird's wings.

Y/N: 《T-There's no way.....I MUST be dreaming. There is no way in hell Kim Namjoon is floating in the middle of the ocean, naked at that, in front of me...》

I hugged my arms to cover my exposed chest, my body shivering as a cool breeze blew through, lifting some of Namjoon's hair up and away from his face. My heart fluttered momentarily, which I tried to deduce as being a fangirl's-heart-flutter, but I couldn't help but smile softly; he looked so peaceful. Calm. Serene. Without a concern, worry, or responsibility on his mind. His dragon's eyes now delicate slits as his eyes fluttered slightly behind his closed eyelids, his cute little button nose looking bedazzled under the moonlight, his plump, luscious lips, parted slightly as he breathed softly in his slumber, his toned chest rising and falling with each rhythmic inhale and exhale.

Without a thought I quietly took his hand that had been floating listlessly by his side; despite the water having gotten cooler, his hands were warm and inviting. His long, delicate fingers and large palms set on elegant wrists.

It was, as soon as I my fingers grazed his, that his eyelids fluttered open.

Our gazes locked and my heart stopped momentarily once more, but this time, began beating again, slowly and deeply. The sensation overwhelmed me, but in a good way. I wasn't scared, but rather tranquil, as if a huge, unknown weight had been lifted from my shoulders.

His fingers, unexpectedly, interlocked with mine once he sensed my hand in his through the water. I felt this instant shock throughout my entire body, pinpricks of electricity sparking at my fingertips and flooding throughout my body with a soft buzz. He inhaled sharply, which told me he felt it too.

When our eyes meet, something unfamiliar flashed across his gaze, as if he knew me but couldn't remember who I was.

Y/N: 《That's impossible. He's not going to know who I am. He's an international superstar a part of the biggest boyband in the world right now. I'm only a fan out of millions more, he won't----》

NJ: Y/N?

My eyes widened in shock as I heard Namjoon's voice fill my head, cutting off my thoughts.

But before I could ask him how he knew my name, I felt my body being submerged under the coolness of the water, a bright white light flooding my vision and then..........darkness.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••

My eyes shot open again as I gasped for air, my arms waving frantically in front of me as I tried to catch my breathe.

My heart was hammering in my chest as my breathe came out ragid, as if someone had just resuscitated me after drowning. I sighed heavily as I felt my hair was drenched in sweat, dripping down the back of my neck. I rubbed my face with my hands momentarily when....

Y/N: 《These.....aren't my hands....!!!》

My eyes shot open, my heart stopping momentarily as I held "my" hands in front of me.

I was right.

My hands were smaller and more pudgy/slim, not these large, palms with....with delicate fingers......on elegant wrists.......

I leapt out of my bed, feeling an.....appendage that has never been there before, hit my leg, my hand, even though it wasn't mine, flying to cover my mouth in shock and disbelief at the sensation.

Y/N: 《Was that a...I mean my.....di-?? No. There's no way. I must still be dreaming. That's right, I just need to go along with it that's all, maybe even throw some water on my face to wake the real me up....yeah, that'll do the trick....》

I straightened myself out and inhaled deeply, walking towards an open door that I only presumed was the bathroom. Luckily I was right and walked in, leaving the light off for a few minutes as I washed my face, since I had just "woken up." Then, reaching along the right-hand side of the wall to find the switch, my fingers latched onto it, flipping the notch upwards, allowing light to flood the bathroom.

I raised my eyes to look in the mirror, half expecting to either see myself or this made up person my dream turned me into while I was actually still sleeping, like I believed.

I had to cover my, well his mouth to stop myself from screaming out loud.

The person staring back at me, in all of his fine ass glory, was none other than Kim Namjoon. Tall, dimpled, long hair and all.

With shaky hands I grasped the sink countertop and leaned forward, blinking several times to see if the reflection staring back at me would change.

Nope.

I even tried pinching myself, well him, until I brought tears to my-his eyes, the pain blossoming across my-his skin......

《The fact that I could feel the pain already explains it.....I'm NOT dreaming....this is real.....yet so fucking unreal......how the FUCK did I end up becoming Kim Namjoon???? IQ 148 genius? Dance Prodigy? Talented rapper, writer, producer, and composer? Leader of the Bangtan Sonyeondan???》

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

《Could it have been---???》

Then it dawned on me. Memories of the "dream" I experienced last night flooded my mind. The ocean. The night sky. The moon. Seeing Namjoon's body, swimming to him, bringing him under the moonlight. Holding his hand. He woke up and our eyes met, electricity sparked when we touched and then I was suddenly deep under water and there was this flash of white light and-

"Now I'm here," I said out loud, but it wasn't my voice, but the deep, sultry tone of Kim Namjoon's.

I licked my- well Namjoon's lips, nervously.

"D-Did we-?"

Y/N: 《Switch bodies?》

#bts #kim namjoon #namjoon #namjoon one shot

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teratotherapist · 5 years

Text

Setting Sail, Going Home?

A young woman stands on the edge of oblivion. It was some twenty-three years ago she was first given life, so there's no need for the name based shenanigans; her name is ROSE LALONDE. She stands on jagged rim of a slab of meteoric stone, in front of a full scale replica of her childhood home reconstructed from online blueprints. She's about where her mailbox would be, she thinks.

Her lavender eyes scan the darkness of the furthest ring, seeking something. Someone. A glimmer of gilded hope in the deepest night. All that she finds is faraway glimpses of Eldritch outer gods and the light pollution of the strangers' session she's been delving. They were cool enough planets, she thinks, but... well, they weren't exactly made for her, were they? It's times like these she actually pines for the Land of Light and Rain, the whimsical planet she once found distasteful. Pandering, even condescending she thought. But really, maybe it was what she needed all along.

Times like these, she pines for LoLaR, and for its last known keeper; a certain dog-eared young woman, a lifelong friend, confidante, crush. Memories of late night movie streams with the whole friend-group, of even later-night aftermaths with just Jade, in all her frustratingly mysterious yet charming, quirky, brilliant glory. Memories of faltering façades after miserably botched school dances and bullying aggressions, of fretful reassurances from across the globe, of staring at that lovely face in the tiny chat window and wishing it was there before her instead. As irritating as her evasive flightiness could be, she adored the strange island girl, her oldest and deepest friend, her strongest crush.

It was for this girl, plus her next closest friend and the ghost of her cat, that the Seer set forth from the meteor. She left behind a lot - an ectosibling who irked her but for whom she cared, and his awkward sort-of-boyfriend; a pair of mischievous trolls whose infectious cackling gave the crew vigor and groans in competing measure; a concerning and inscrutable but largely defanged clown; a breathtaking alien woman for whom she cared deeply - loved, even. She had thought she'd come with her when she took off into the void. But Rose's rash tone, her planless haste, her stubborn, pigheaded refusal to compromise or wait before setting out gave her pause. She left behind a lot - a crowd of confused friends, a tearful lover, disappearing swiftly into the void as she set off.

She thought it would be quick - a foray out into the ruins of a few lost sessions, a skim through the infinite expanse in search of the golden Prospit ship; they'd waited at their apparently intended location for some few years, after all, with no sign of the new session nor their friends. Had they miscalculated? Had a half-blind psionic's optic blast aimed incorrectly, or been slower than they needed to be? Maybe they just needed to widen their search radius, and who better to quest for a glimmer in the darkness than the Seer of Light? But they hadn't agreed, and just watched as she departed, promising to return soon with new powers, and with friends in tow.

It took longer than expected, and to little avail. For some two years by her reckoning, she'd sought other sessions, always scanning the darkness for that glimmer of gold. Her magical prowess grew, but so did her loneliness, her desperation. When did she stop having fun tearing things apart and collecting lore? When did the solitude of puzzlecrypts and the hubbub of unknown consorts start to emphasize only her loneliness?

She knows she needs to go back. She needs the presence of at least some of her friends, if not all of them, for the sake of her sanity. She knows in her gut that Jade and John are still out there somewhere, but damn if her Sight will give her a clear answer as to where. And worst of all, despite ever attempting to reflect fearlessness and stalwart stoicism, she's afraid. She's afraid that somehow Jade - in her ever-knowing mystery - will know she's turned around. Will think she's abandoning them. That the girl she's loved since she was very young will hate her. She's afraid that upon returning to the meteor, she'll be met with only hostility, no second chances given. An unwelcome burden to her allies.

She turns her Sight to the void once more, opening her third eye, so to speak. The path "homeward" is clear. A long one, one of many months' travel, but a straightforward one. The threads of choice fray upon arrival, but she can pluck through them in time. The path towards Jade, however, is a frayed mess at the start. A thousand glowing strands, bundled and knotted and impossible to trace. There's too many ways one could go about finding her friends, and she can't quite find their destination in a satisfactory manner. Homeward it is, then.

She heads for her rooftop and deploys one of her methods of traversal - a VERDISOLAR SAIL, an alchemized contraption meant to capture the omnipresent glow of the Green Sun, that vast entity that exists, existed, will exist, before the beginning and after the end of its own birth and death. Some said it was gone, but then there was its glow, its raging heat and fiery mass far away, its solar currents. She doesn't pretend to understand it, outside of "something something, infinite timelines calling for infinite destructions and creations."

She clamps the device to her rooftop, heavy electromagnets gripping the metal in the building's framework. The sail unfurls itself, shimmering hexagons and a glimmer of stars that aren't there reflected in its depth. It looks like a radio antenna with a mystical sail at its peak. She angles it just so, catching the solar winds that she internally calls the Pumpkin Tide, in honor of her Green-Sun gardener friend's ill fated gourds. It billows briefly for a moment, then there's the faintest tug of motion, slowly mounting. She guides the meteor slab around, banking onto a new course. One that, she hopes, will lead her to her goal.

As the fragment begins to move under her guidance, Rose brings up Pesterchum and starts a message to one gardenGnostic. The interpreter finds many of these and asks for some specificity as to secondary multiverse handles. Unfortunately, Jade's handle is unknown, if she had one; so all Rose can do is broadcast and hope it reaches the right one somehow. Still, her fingers shake with nerves as she taps in a message.

tentacleTherapist{teratoTherapist} began pestering gardenGnostic {??} at {??:??}

TT: Jade, if you're out there, it's Rose. I... hope you still remember me after all this time.

TT: I don't know what went awry in our voyage, what nebulous powers conspired to keep us from our fated destination

TT: But I've been looking for you.

TT: Near and far, I've been scouring the ruins of broken timelines in search of new powers to find you, always watching out for you.

TT: ...You were right, you know. I should have listened. If I'd conveyed myself differently, been less petulant

TT: Perhaps things would have unfolded differently, perhaps I would be aboard that ship with you and John, or perhaps we'd all be together in some tertiary Earth.

TT: But who's to say? My Sight looks forward, dwelling backward only brings sorrow.

TT: Though... I'm afraid I must divert from my seeker's path, for a time. The bastion of sanity and stability that I am, even I cannot withstand solitude in the Void forever.

TT: That's not to say I'm giving up the hunt.

TT: Your likely first dose of Lalonde earnestness and candor in many moons: I would go to the very ends of time to locate you. I just... need to recuperate, then the search can continue.

TT: It's my deepest hope that maybe this will be pointless and I'll return to the meteor, just to find you and John and everyone else, living it up all in one place. But if that's not the case, well.

TT: I will find you, Lalonde's honor.

TT: If you get this message, do be in touch, okay? My multiversal handle should be included.

TT: Send John, Davesprite, and Nannasprite my regards, and scratch Jaspers under his chin for me, if you could.

TT: And Jade? Do take care of yourself. Don't... Don't forget that you're missed, and you're so, so loved. To whatever degree you want to interpret that.

TT: I hope to see you soon, Jade. With love,

The Seer sits down beside the sail and balls her fists up, rubbing them against her eyes to grind away the bittersweet tears. She's on her way "home", for better or worse, to arrive by year's end.

#long post #solo drabble #solo rp #very long post #sorry its so long

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