Always be sure not to finish your spell too quick. Let it sink in, sit there and feel it’s effect. Let it sink into the ground and travel through dirt and rocks and crystals charged with her power. Let the wind take it through the air; breathe your power into the wind. Allow it to flow through river and lake with the element of water. And finally, let fire root it into the heart of all it is meant to effect. Man, beast, plant, or anything else. Never finish too fast, don’t rush. Be patient. It will happen.
Every day he saw her waiting there at the bench. Sometimes she would be standing. Her sun dress flowing in the wind, as if the lace or fabric had been lighter than air, catching even the smallest breeze. Her hair dancing about her face. His eye sight was poor, but he could see her tangled hair dancing. He could smell the perfume of her shampoo carried in the wind as he approached her. Other times she would be huddled together on the bench as she sat. Her knees clenched closely as she held her heavy coat to her frame in the cold wind.
It was the same as when he first met her. The droplets of rain fell hard, each splash on the pavement demanded your hearing. V could hardly believe someone had been caught so off guard by the storm. Her hands went from wiping her ever-dampening hair to her arms, to her soaked cloth clinging to her frame. He remembered thinking how beautiful and natural she looked. How helpless. How, in that moment, he saw someone in need of his help, even if his sight was less than superb. Her bangs and hair clung to her face and she smiled to him. The smile that he had grown to look forward to for weeks to come.
“Please, share my umbrella?” he asked of her as he held it above her shivering frame.
It was the first thing he ever said to her. The first words ever spoken between them as they stood there at the bus stop. Her careful nod and slight smile pierced through him in that instant. Her gratitude. Had he ever been so thankful for his eyesight before?
In his mind he could remember every detail of her. Her face. Her makeup and the way the strands of hair clung messily to her face from the rain like thin vines on a beautiful sculpture. The sound of the droplets on the umbrella and the feel of wetness as the bottoms of his jeans began to soak water and creep up his shins. It didn’t matter, as long as she was dry and comfortable.
“Thank you,” she spoke in soft syllables through the heavy rain.
Her voice had been like a symphony to the backdrop of the rain pattering. Her smile the beams of sunlight in the clouds of rain. It was a gift to see her before him.
When the bus approached and she nodded in gratitude before entering, he felt a heaviness in his chest. Such grace and beauty lost to him now because he hadn’t the courage, nor the strength, to ask her for any more than she had already bestowed upon him. Only a warm smile and a slight giggle from her as he sheltered her from the rain.
The next day it was drizzling lightly as he approached the bench. His sight limited to the bus. And…as if a sign from above, he saw her looking back to him with that same sweet smile. It would insight the tightness in his chest once more. She recognized him? Even with his blurry vision he could never mistake her for another.
“Hello, V!” she would smile and exclaim every time.
Always the same cheerful greeting. It always elicited his heart to work overtime in his chest. He wanted to know more about her. Wanted her to know more about him.
“Call me Jihyun, remember,” he laughed and smiled.
“Oh! Of course, I’m so sorry,” she would laugh and cover her face in embarrassment.
He loved that about her. And without another thought his umbrella would be covering her and sheltering her from the spring rain.
“You don’t take the same route as I do, yet you’re always here at the same time,” she says casually, “why do you take the bus? Your clothes….ah! I’m sorry, is that rude?”
The way she gets flustered turns his cheeks red. He didn’t think he was dressed so richly? Maybe only compared to Jumin…
“It’s not rude,” he chuckled, “my eye sight…” he let his voice trail off.
“I know,” she replied.
Delicate fingertips pressed against his cheeks and shocked him more than he had anticipated. The feeling of her warm fingertips on his skin made his heart leap and his body feel warmth in the growing cold.
“Is that why you…ride public transport?” she had asked.
“Mostly, yes,” he found himself admitting.
It is true. He can still see alright, enough to get around daily life. But he can not drive. Public transport is his means of traveling. He doesn’t wish to be like his friend Jumin, spending money on personal drivers and cars. Figures from afar appear as blurs, but not her.
Perhaps it was the way she smelled. Or sounded.
He could hear her rustling and know it was her. Her delicate hands moving through her bag to find her chapstick. Or her sunglasses. Or phone. He could tell her apart from anyone else in the world. it would start off as if she had forgotten the thing completely. Frantic and manic were her hands in the pockets and crevices of her bag. Eventually, the all-too-familiar sigh would escape her when she found what she was looking for. Maybe others could not pick it up, but he could. He heard and watched her pop the cap from her chapstick in the summer and rub it against her full lips. She wasn’t aware of how bad his sight had been. But she was more aware than most.
Most good days, when he met her at the bench, they would talk about themselves. If she was carrying bags, she would explain what she purchased for him. Even if it was trivial, he found himself enthralled in her explanations.
“Shoes for the beach. You know my old ones always gave me trouble,” she laughed and he agreed since he had known as well, “and this new dress. I don’t know how well it will look. Maybe for a lunch with friends…”
She held the dress up to herself and he felt almost bad for imagining her in it. Perhaps on a moonlit night. She would be waiting as he approached from a street corner. She would be smiling, only for him, in that dress. He’d buy her dinner and wine. They would share her favorite dessert and she would tell him all about her day. He would listen intently. He cared. For a moment he had to remind himself of where he was.
“It’s a beautiful dress for you,” he remarked.
“Why, thank you,” she replied and stuffed the items back in her bag with red cheeks.
One day she was showing him what she had purchased, when she noticed how aloof he seemed, though he was trying his hardest not to show it.
“Your eyesight,” she spoke softly, “it’s getting worse…isn’t it…”
Why was he choking back his words? Was it the slight drizzling rain clouding his eyes, or his own tears as he held his umbrella over what he hoped was her frame. If he could do anything in this world, it was to keep her from being cold…and wet. Somehow, she knew. Just by the way he had acted, for he hadn’t said a word about how he was doing.
He felt a soft hand on his own free one. It was hers. Without thinking twice he smiled and let her lead him. He could even hear her smile in her voice.
“Sunglasses…not that I’ll be needing them anytime soon, don’t you agree? I feel like a fool for believing the weatherman,” she laughed and held her forehead against his own as she did so, while still guiding his hand around her bag.
Was she not put off by his ailment? It was one of the first times he could say he hadn’t felt like an outsider. Someone who needed to be asked to be accepted. She had grabbed his hand…
She had grabbed his hand…and from then on, she continued to do so.
Some days, he didn’t need it. Some days, the sun shone bright and still would be out-shined by her radiance. Her smile and aura as he approached the bench would radiate his core. Whether she was heading to work, meeting friends or shopping, she looked beautiful and full of hope to him. She filled him with her warmth even on the coldest of days.
It wasn’t since Rika that he had felt this way about another human being. And even thinking about her inner beauty, could he say he even felt this way about Rika? No. This person who had accepted him as who he was, even with his sight as it happened to be. This person who asked nothing from him other than conversation as they waited for the bus to take them to their destinations.
When he had fallen in love with her, who could say? But he was sure she felt the same way. Her subtle touches to his hands and arm when they met. The way she leaned in close to explain things to him.
“It is cold…but I do appreciate the rain,” she said one day to him after he had placed his jacket over her. “It gives life to the flowers around us, the plants…Life would cease to exist without the rain. I think we should appreciate it. Don’t you agree?” she asked him.
Of course he did. His hands held her shoulders tightly as he explained so. How badly he wanted to ask her to dinner in that moment. Maybe just to a cup of coffee. To ask her everything about herself. Did she garden? What was her favorite film? Did she enjoy music?
He could sense a lot about her just in the time they spent together. She was selfless. She only went shopping when it meant it was needed. If it was for meeting friends, or perhaps something she didn’t have before. He liked that about her. She was observant.
“The bus has been a little late…fourth time this week…I hope the driver isn’t feeling ill,” she had mentioned one day.
“What’s so funny?” she smiled and put her hand on his forearm playfully, “ I really am worried!”
“Only you would be worried about the driver when your ride is late…I just…find it charming,” he admitted to her.
When he was late, or struggling to make it to the bench, he found her at his side, helping carry his things and hold him steady.
One particularly rainy day, her bus arrived on schedule. It was the familiar slosh of the flowing gutters as it pulled close to the curb for her. The all-too-familar squeak of the door hinges as it swung opened for her. But she did not move. She did not enter. Her hand lay wrapped on his forearm, which held his umbrella sturdy to protect her the best he could from the elements.
“I’m not going in today,” she spoke coyly as the door shut and the sound of the bus driving down the road faded once again in the distance.
He couldn’t hold back his smile much longer. Her touch soothed him. Her delicate hands he had grown to fall in love with. And the sweetness in her voice like warm honey coating his soul.
“We can’t waste the day,” he found himself replying, “how about I take you to lunch…and then maybe dinner?”
“Nothing could make me happier, Jihyun,” she pulled her body in close to his as she spoke.
He could feel her steps in sync with his own. This wasn’t the first time he had taken her out. Not even the twentieth time…her feet and hands, her voice, her steps and the pitter patter they made next to his own feet…the way she walked was all too familiar.
Yes…this day was like many others he had come to share with her. And yet…he felt in his pocket, that hardness in the shape of a box. The velvet case with a ring inside.
It may have come to be a familiar day for them. But today, he would ask her to be his wife.
Climb the mountains and get their good tidings. Nature’s peace will flow into you as sunshine flows into trees. The winds will blow their own freshness into you, and the storms their energy, while cares will drop away from you like the leaves of Autumn.
Light is born of darkness. Darkness sails north to become water. Light sails south to give birth to fire. Wind flows in between light and darkness. Light sinks into darkness and returns to earth. The chosen one who holds great power, reveal your true powers.
Gemini and Virgo is the story of two sisters. And Mercury rules Gemini and Virgo, the great story teller, so he wrote his most amusing tale for his winged children. Gemini is the drunk Virgo. Virgo is the focused Gemini. Gemini is the animated Virgo. And Virgo is the sensual Gemini. Both sisters were born during the mutable season, so they flow with the winds of change and adaptable dynamism. But the Gemini sister’s eye colour changes a little, and the way she speaks, she styles her hair in braids then curls then bows then sleek, she dresses like a New Ager in the week following a rocker. She is experimental and playful. She enjoys playing with different personalities and modes of expression. The Virgo sister is self analytical and conscious, she stores away personalities like files, opens the draw for the right moment, and hides parts of herself away. Like Mercury, the two sisters are neither feminine nor masculine, but dual and androgynous, handsome and youthful, with eyes of light and the curiosity of the young. They share a cupboard, and the Gemini’s side is full of colours and bright shades, while the Virgo sister adorns in the aloe green and sublime neutrality, reflecting the earth child inside. They both make for brilliant conversationalists and communicators. But the Gemini sister seems to radiate centrepiece at a party, wine in hand, seducing all through their engaging and stimulating conversation. She is confident, free, and wild when she is releasing the butterflies from her throat. Though her tongue always seems to slip, and words tumble out that make mistakes. And it’s up to the calculative and strategic Virgo sister to save her. With her incredible skills of observation, psychological probing, and ability to strategize the correct words, a Virgo knows how to charm with the ingredients of language. The Gemini sister strews magazines and books around, consuming wikipedia and all the wi fi to satiate her love of learning and mental amusement. The Virgo sister keeps her textbooks, and files, and documents, and novels in neat piles, alphabetically listed and colour co ordinated, seeking to apply the information she has acquired in service oriented and practical formats. The Gemini sister is more concerned with ideas and pockets of trivia, while the Virgo sister reigns in on fact and logic, ensuring that her information is correct. This is what makes for great conversation between the pair, and they often stay up long into the night, with their hyperactivity and sleeplessness, lost in discussion and reverie. With her room a mess, the bills piled up, and her diaries strewn with different handwriting, the Gemini sister seems quite more scattered, mischievous, and distracted than her formulaic, reflective, refined Virgo sister. The Gemini sister enjoys bringing two worlds together and fusing oppositions. The Virgo sister breaks down information into digestible components.
The Gemini sister’s wings flitter from cloud to cloud, stitched with the pages of books, impractical and in a daze, blowing message bubbles into the ether. The Virgo sister’s wings are sewn with leaves and eucalyptus trees, searching for curatives in her mind and earth like a medical box. The two sisters are primary school teachers and express the labor of Mercury, the ruler of early academics. The Gemini sister enjoys teaching through anecdotes, audio, and group conversation. The Virgo sister utilizes hands on activity, technology, and concentrated pre planning. They herald the messenger in every day life. They can change in the blink of an eye. They are both brilliant and witty, loquacious and flirtatious, active in their expression and talking with their dancing hands.
I really enjoy seeing everyone’s Ryder’s and the differences between them all, but I can’t stand it when I see hair styles/colors that are unnatural or flowing free. I’m enlisted in the US, and being held to listed and extremely specific appearance standards, I internally cringe when I see Ryder’s with multi colored hair that’s flowing in the wind. SO out of regs and so impractical, haha. Very pretty/handsome though.
Every time you walk into the room it seems as if time slows down. Whenever you walk towards Natasha, to her, it seems as if you’re walking in slow motion, hips swaying back and forth, your hair flawlessly flowing in the wind… god was she in love with you. Honestly Nat was, to put it like the teenagers would, so “shook.” She has never been this smitten with someone, the stone cold assassin has always taught herself to be distanced, she could never let someone she loved get hurt. Seeing how absolutely badass you were made her change her mind, you didn’t need protecting however she did whenever she was around you.
Back to reality, you were waving your hand in front of her face to get her attention.
“Earth to Nat?”
She shakes herself out of her mind, “Uh yea w-whats up?”
You laugh and point to the cloth next to her. Making the connection Natasha nodded as handed it to you. She watched as with a detailed eye, you clean your guns. In Nat’s peripheral she could see the rest of the avengers watching this exchange. She turned her head and silenced any potential laughter with a death glare. She got up, brushed her hands off on her pants and walked over to the super group.
“Gosh, Nat.. you’re obviously crushing so hard, it’s almost as if you’re a teenager again.” Clint patted the Black Widow’s back.
“You’re a trained and might I add, highly deadly assassin, why don’t you just go talk to her?”
Natasha glared at Tony and he backed away with his hands raised in surrender. She walked away from them and went to the training room that was thankfully empty. The only thing she could think to do to get out her anger was to punch something, so she did. The assassin in was so immersed in what she was doing that she didn’t notice you come into the room in your tight black shorts and crop top.
“Nat?” you tried to yell over the sound of angsty punching.
“Oh.. OH, Hey [y/n],” she stopped punching and tried to look you in the eye.
“Yea, yea.. I’m good, great even.” She kept on repeating things as to reassure herself.
“Ok…. did you wanna train together? Finally try to beat me?” you teased.
“of course, just you wait..”
You were the only one that could beat the Black Widow in a sparring match. If Nat had her head clear she could probably beat you but holding her in choke hold with your legs wasn’t the best for her mental health.. if ya know what I mean.
“Steve, get in here so you can be the referee!”
Walking in Steve was smirking, he was so glad he would finally get to witness this train wreck. He stepped into the ring.
“Alright ladies, I want a clean fight,” He sends a wink over to Nat and steps out, signaling for the start of the match.
You sent the first punch. Natasha barely dodged it because she realized how beautiful you were, even if you were trying to beat her up.
Before she knew it she was on the ground under your smirking face.
“And the win goes to [Y/N]” Steve said.
Still sitting on Natasha you said “I think that was our quickest match yet, huh Steve?” He looks at the timing feature on his knew technologically advanced watch, thanks to Tony.
“Yup,” he smiled at you.
“This was so much fun, thanks Nat,” you look down at her with what seemed like the brightest most purest grin on the planet.
“Anytime [Y/N], Anytime.” Natasha put her head back on the ground as you got off of her. Oh Boy was Black Widow head over heels in love.
((A/N: THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR THIS REQUEST, I TOO AM IN LOVE WITH OUT FIERY LADY, I HOPE YOU ENJOYED IT!!!))
What does water want?
It does so much in nature
and our world,
but what does water want?
It simply flows
blown by wind,
flows wherever, however,
a shape in a vessel
without form as it streams
absorbed as it returns to the soil,
following the path
of least resistance
I promised to write a little one-shot for my mermaid AU, so here it is! :D
Hope you all enjoy! ^w^
Goth - @nekophy
Palette - @angexci
AU - mine
The stars shine luminously, dark grey clouds shrouding the rest of night sky. The soft light makes the beach sand glitter as the waves rise and roll calmly.
Sitting on the sand, A boy stares off into the distance. His blonde hair flows along with the light breeze of the wind, his bright yellow eyes twinkle like the stars. He wears a light blue blouse and some gray shorts, which match his hat.
“Gosh, it’s such a quiet night.” The boy, Palette says, smiling slightly.
He’s very used to the loud clamoring of tour crowds that come and go at the local aquarium his family owns, so Palette welcomes the peaceful night as good change of pace.
He closes his eyes, sighing dreamily. Nothing can ruin this moment, not while everyone is either asleep or working indoors. It’s just himself and nothing but the ocean to keep him company.
Suddenly he hears distant crying. Palette opens his eyes and looks around. From not too far away, a boy with light lavender hair was crying. Palette wonders why the boy could be crying when he notices his bottom half. His eyes widened.
‘No way..’ He thought.
Instead of legs, a long purple fish tail replaced them, wiggling slightly. On it were scratches and cuts, some looked very deep and serious.
Palette shoved all his thoughts aside, got up, and rushed over to him.
“Hey buddy, what’s your name? You need help?” Palette smiles kindly.
Startled from his sudden approach, the mermaid desperately tries to move away from him, whimpering.
“Wait no no! I’m not going to hurt you!” Palette says quickly, not wanting to scare him off.
The mermaid had a hand up to defend himself, watching him with caution. It might have been the moonlight, but it seemed like his eyes were glowing as well.
Palette tries again.
“I just want to help you.”
The lavender-haired boy’s breathing seemed to calm down a bit from that as he lowers his arm. Still, that didn’t mean that he trusted the blonde boy infront of him so easily. The light in his eyes dim slightly.
Palette blinks in surprise.
So the mermaid can talk.
Palette shakes off his surprise.
“I know somewhere I can take you. They’ll know how to help.” He replies with certainty.
His family has dealt with alot of injured aquatic mammals, surely a mermaid wouldn’t be too difficult to help.
The mermaid narrows his eyes.
“What makes you think I need your help?” He retorted.
“Well, it seemed obvious with your crying.” Palette patiently answers back.
The mermaid blushes a bright red. “I-I did not cry!”
“Your red eyes say otherwise.”
“I just got sand in my eyes!”
“Sure, whatever you say.” Palette says, trying to hold in his laughther.
No matter what the mermaid says, it’s evident that he did cry. Palette finds it hilarious how stubborn the mermaid is.
The lavender-haired boy growled in annoyace, cheeks puffed.
“Pff-ahahaha!” That’s when Palette couldn’t contain it anymore and starts laughing.
Surprised, the mermaid just stares at him.
What a strange person the human infront of him is. Seriously, the blonde is in the presence of a mermaid and he doesn’t looked to be awed or even fazed!
In contrary, it’s quite the opposite. The lavender-haired boy continues to stare, mystified. Palette’s smile seems to be infectious, because the mermaid could feel the corners of his mouth tug in an upward curve. Palette notices this, finally able to catch his breath.
“Heh, hey, you’re smiling!” He points out.
Quickly, the mermaid flushes and covers his mouth with his hands.
Palette chuckles lightly at this. “No need to do that, I think your smile’s cute actually.”
This just worsens the poor boy’s blush, who turns away for a moment, trying to shrug off the oblivious blonde’s comment.
A moment of silence.
“Goth.” The mermaid’s first to break the silence.
“Pardon me?” Palette asks, a bit confused by his response.
The mermaid rolls his eyes, a smile daring to appear again.
“You asked for my name right? It’s Goth.” He explains to the blonde.
“Oh! I see! Well, nice to meet you Goth! I’m Palette!” Palette replies, smiling.
“Nice to meet you too, Palette. So, you said you could help me? With my, er, prediciment?” Goth asks, gesturing to his slightly mangled up tail.
Most of the cuts have stopped bleeding, but it’s obvious Goth couldn’t swim with his tail as it was now. Palette nods, kneeling on one leg.
“Yeah! My family and I own an aquarium luckily! We help alot of aquatic animals there, so I’m positive we can help you too!” He explains to the mermaid.
“Ok, so how am I going to get there exactly? I don’t have legs like you.” Goth asks, raising an eyebrow.
“Yeah, you might wanna brace yourself for this next step.” Palette warns.
“What are you talking abou-” The mermaid yelped slightly as Palette picked him up, bridal-style.
Goth winces a bit, but the pain doesn’t distract him from the bright flush on his face.
“Hey, you OK? I didn’t hurt you did I?” Palette questions, looking worriedly at Goth.
He shakes his head 'no’ and holds onto Palette tightly. “I-I’m fine!”
The blonde sighs in relief. “That’s good! I’ll be taking you to the aquarium, it’s not far from here so the trip shouldn’t be long!”
Goth nods aimlessly, staring at Palette in a daze. His blush has yet to dissapate and a faint smile is plastered on his face. He sighs contently as he rests his head on Palette, unintentionally dozing off.
They reach their destination in no time as Palette opens the doors to both the entrance and infirmary. He lays the sleeping mermaid onto a thick, fluffy towel, making sure not to wake him.
Palette’s eyes shine brightly as he watches Goth sleep. He feels a beat in his heart, but it’s soft enough for him to ignore. He smiles softy, moving a strand of lavendar hair away from the mermaid’s face.
“Cute..” He says to himself as he picks up his phone to text his parents. Palette tells them that he’ll be staying in the aquarium’s infirmary room and closes his phone again. He finds an empty bed and lays there, near Goth, falling asleep almost instantly.
The aquarium is quiet and peaceful, with the only sound you could hear being the rolling of waves and the beating of two young hearts.
Who knows what their story will tell, now that their paths have crossed? And, whether they know this or not, both human and mermaid have started to fall in love with each other.
Warnings: none, really. Some fluff, some dark Steve
All credit goes to Marvel
Steve flipped the picture in his hands over and over,
looking at the picture itself, then the date on the back of it. September 29th,
2016. The date seemed so long ago. He stared at the picture a little longer. He
committed every small detail of it to memory; the way her hair flowed with the
wind, her radiant smile, her eyes. Oh
god, her eyes, he thought. He bit his lip, carefully folding the picture
back into his wallet. How was he supposed to live on like this? Without her?
“Dad, I don’t know if this is a good idea. At least
not yet.” You pleaded with your father. Nick Fury sat at the table across from
you, elbows up on the table.
“You are the only option right now, Y/N. Everyone on
the team is down and we need you.” Nick said affirmatively. You knew that tone
of voice. That tone of voice meant you weren’t getting out of this. “All you
have to do is make sure that James Buchanan Barnes is stable and true to the
Avengers Initiative. We don’t need any more HYDRA in this world and he has some
pretty strong ties to them.” You looked at your dad, Agent Phil Coulson of
“It’ll take two weeks tops. Maybe one depending on
what you see. I promise you won’t be in there for longer than you have to.” He
put his hand over yours reassuringly and you took a deep breath. Fury slid over
the steel briefcase and you opened it, surveying the photostatic veil in front
of you. “Wearing this at all times is necessary. The Avengers already know you
as a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent. If they suspect that one of us is spying on one of
them, the mission is compromised and there’s no telling what will happen. As we
all know, Steve Rogers is a bit of a loose cannon when it comes to Bucky
Barnes. We can’t risk him hurting you if he finds out what you’re up to.”
“Right, so who am I, again?” You asked. Your nerves
were on fire with anxiety, whether it was good anxiety or bad anxiety, you
weren’t sure. You squeezed your dad’s hand a little tighter.
“You’re Marie Laveau, Stark’s new assistant. He knows
why you’re there, but he doesn’t know who you really are. He doesn’t trust
Barnes either. He’ll show you everything and give you the inside briefing.
You’re from San Antonio, moved here when you were nine years old to live with
your aunt after your parents were killed in a deadly gambling ring. You won’t
be there long, so you don’t need much more information, and if they ask, I
trust you won’t blow your cover. Now come on, I’ll bring you to the tower. You
can put your face on in the car.” Nick stood up, gesturing for you to follow.
You and your dad stood up, too. You gave him a hug and grabbed the briefcase
before following Fury.
“Tell May I bought more celery for her breakfast
shakes!” You called. Your dad smiled and nodded as you sat down in the
passenger seat of Nick’s car.
“You know, you didn’t have to cut and dye your hair.”
He said, pulling out of the restaurant parking lot.
“Oh, I didn’t,” you pulled off your jet black wig,
exposing your natural hair underneath it. “You’re not the only one who thought
disguise.” You saw him crack a (rare) smile.
“So I guess spending the entirety of your life
training you to be a spy didn’t go to waste, huh?”
“Well, I had some pretty good teachers.”
“You’re doing this at the right time,” Tony began. “Barnes
is just starting to warm up to everyone, but he’s still slightly reserved. I
feel like he’s keeping something from us, something from Steve. Oh, here’s
Diana’s room. You’ll be staying here.” He gestured to the room you would be
staying and you felt instantly relaxed by looking around.
“Thanks, Tony.” you said sincerely. You gave him a
grateful smile and he nodded, putting your luggage on the queen-sized bed.
“No, thank you. I need to keep my team together. But I
need to trust Barnes before I do that,” You nodded understandingly. “Dinner’s
at five, so you have time to wash up or get situated or whatever you needed to
do.” With that, he gave you a tight smile before leaving, shutting your door
behind him. You pressed your hands against your mattress, welcoming the
familiar softness of it, and you hung your head. It’s gonna be a long two weeks, you thought.
When you came down for dinner that night, you sat at
the long bar table with a piece of pizza in front of you and a knife and fork
in hand. “You’re the only person I know, besides Diana, that eats pizza like
that.” Nat remarked. Steve’s head popped up to look at you and then your hands,
still holding the silverware. He looked at you skeptically in a way that made
your skin crawl.
“I don’t like getting pizza grease on my fingers.” You
shrugged and crinkled your nose. Nat nodded and went back to eating her slice,
but Steve’s eyes lingered on you for just a bit longer and you averted your
gaze back to your pizza, busying yourself with cutting into it and taking a
Bucky came over and plopped down next to Steve,
grabbing himself a slice of buffalo chicken pizza and nearly shoving the entire
thing in his mouth. Steve whispered something in Bucky’s ears and you saw Bucky
glance at you in the corner of your eyes. You picked at your lip and felt your cheeks
heat up, and you were thankful that the photo-static veil wouldn’t show it. Steve
stood up, throwing his now-empty plate away before excusing himself. You
watched as he stalked out of the room. Bucky came over and sat down by you.
“Don’t take it personal, you just remind him a lot about
Diana. Everybody here’s still upset that she’s gone and they don’t like to talk
about it, but I know a lot about her from her file and what Steve’s told me.
Walk with me, I’ll tell you everything you need to know.” Bucky looked into
your eyes and you could tell he was serious. You finished your piece and threw
your plate away, instantly going to follow the brunet who was already halfway
out the door.
“Diana was great. She was sweet, but wouldn’t hesitate
to bring one of us to the floor if she didn’t like what someone was doing. She
was incredibly intelligent, easily beating out Clint and Natasha in almost any
subject. She was a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent, but they called her an ‘Honorary Avenger’
because she went on a lot of missions with them. That’s how her and Steve got
close and how they started dating. They were never public about their
relationship though, they thought people would use them against each other,
making them vulnerable. They loved each other too much that they’d pick each
other’s lives to save over their own.”
“Sounds dangerous, to say the least. What happened to
her?” You kicked at a rock as you and Bucky walked back to the tower, now with
two cups of hot chocolate.
“She was presumed dead after an Extremis blew up in a
bar. She was trying to save this kid, Harley, I think. He was real special to
Tony, but Tony was down for the count when Harley ran into the bar, trying to
save some file. Tony begged and yelled after Harley not to go in, but it was
too late. The building burst into flames and Diana ran in, diving under beams
and structures that had fallen over. She pushed Harley out, but one of the
rafters fell on top of her, and they couldn’t get to her in time. They never
found her, all the bodies were too charred to be recognizable. Not even dental
records could help.”
“Steve hasn’t been the same since?”
“No, but can you blame him? Captain America losing the
love of his life? He was almost mad when Pepper was the one to kill Aldrich
Killian, the guy who created it. Steve wanted to do it himself.” You guys
stopped walking when you reached the steps to the common room. “I guess I
credit her with being why I joined the Avengers. The punk’s lost so much in
life that he needs someone who understands. I just want him to be happy, that’s
what we all want. So it makes more sense for me to be on his side instead of an
enemy, doing the right thing for once instead of being some brainwashed
You threw your empty hot chocolate cup into the
trashcan and shoved your hands in your pockets. “I appreciate you telling me
all of this now so I don’t make an ignorant remark later. I don’t want to upset
him.” You said. Bucky nodded, pressing his lips together. He opened the door
for you and you stepped inside. Your eyes instantly landed on Steve, sitting on
the couch and reading the newspaper.
He glanced up at you before focusing back on his
paper. You frowned a little at how distant he was with you, but you couldn’t
blame him. He probably felt bothered that you were staying in Diana’s old room.
You shrugged it off and went to your new room anyways. You had to text your dad
and Fury, and then take a hot shower to make up for the cold night air.
Had some one-on-one time with Barnes. His intentions look good, but I’ll stay
the full week to be sure.
Remember your cover, stay safe.
Dig up any dirt you can. I want a thorough report of him.
You turned your phone’s screen off and placed it on
the counter of the bathroom, making sure to lock the door before pulling your
wig off as well and stepping into the hot, inviting water of your shower.
“Hey, Steve, Tony wants to know when you’re ready to
try out the new suit.” You popped your head through his door. He was sitting on
the edge of his bed, staring intently at a picture. He coughed and folded it
back into his pocket before nodding and standing up to follow you to the lab.
When he reached the door where you were standing, he did a once-over of you.
Not in a ‘checking you out’ sort of way, but another skeptical glance. You
froze momentarily, fearing that Steve was way too smart and could probably see
right past your cover.
“Yeah, let’s go.”
I want you to take a shot at Steve. Anywhere you want. Preferably not in the
nether regions. Or the chest. The legs and stomach are fair game though.” Tony
said. He tossed you a gun and you caught the trigger on your ring finger. They
braced for the bullet that they assumed would be shot, but it never came.
Instead, the gun balanced delicately off your finger.
“What?” You asked. Tony and Steve stood up from their
crouched positions and stared at you in shock.
“Uh, nothing. Diana just used to do that a lot, kinda
her thing, I guess.” Tony said. You frowned.
“Oh, I’m sorry. Must’ve just been a lucky catch.” You
shrugged the comment off. “Steve, are you ready?” He nodded, and braced his
body. Tony had been working on the new 100% vibranium suit for weeks now, he
told you, and he was excited to test it out. Steve, however, was a bit nervous
to be shot at for experimental purposes.
You fired off one shot, one at his thigh. Then you
fired another at his stomach. One at his shoulder, and one at his arm. Tony watched
as the bullets bounced off Steve’s uniform. Steve’s face was contorted in pain,
but nothing went past his armor. When he opened his eyes and stared down at
himself, he grinned at his bullet-less body and looked at Tony, who was
beaming. You used this moment to excuse yourself. “Well, if that’s all you
need, sir, Bucky asked me to dinner and I should get going.” Tony waved you
off, too excited by his success to pay much attention. You slipped out of the
You walked back into your bedroom after dinner with
Bucky, whom you had a surprisingly good time with. You had decided that further
investigation to him wasn’t needed. In fact, he spent nearly the entire time
raving over the Avengers and his missions with them. He told you about growing
up with Steve and how happy he was when he was pulled out of cryostasis and
found out Steve Rogers was still alive. He was even happier when he found out
that Steve was still around his age, non-biologically. You dropped your keys
onto the table by your door and looked into the little mirror above it, taking
out your earrings. You jumped out of your shoes when you heard Steve’s voice. “Diana
Locke was a great spy, amazing even. She was an expert marksman. But she also
had her ticks. She picked at her lip when she was nervous. She ate her pizza
with a knife and fork,” you froze, still turned away from him. “In fact, she’s
even your exact height.”
“Steve, I’m sorry. Bucky told me about Diana, but she’s
dead, and I-“, he cut you off.
“Oh, yeah. Diana’s dead. Diana was a cover though.
Everybody believes that she died in that Extremis fire, but only I know that
she used that fire and belief that she was dead to run off and find a new alias,
a new cover, because she had blown hers while saving Harley.” He stalked up
behind you, but you still didn’t move aside from letting him shove a picture
into your hand. You brought it up in front of you and studied it. It was a
photo of him and Diana. They smiled brightly at the camera with Diana lifted
high onto his shoulders. She held up an American flag as her hair blew in the
wind behind her. “I was the only one lucky enough to know her real name. Her
true self. I know her better than herself sometimes. I’m the only one who can
keep up with her.” You turned to face him and he hovered his hand over your
photo-static veil, pulling it off of your face. You helped him by reaching
behind you and sliding off the wig, letting your natural hair fall back onto
your shoulders, framing your face. He stared at you, a smile taking over his
Anon: What if Claire was more aware that Jamie was in love with her at Leoch ?
Thanks for the ask, Anon. I hope this floats your boat. You’re all legends and thanks for all the lovely messages of support and love over the last few weeks. I’ve had some epic wee messages.
Closing her eyes, Claire laid her head in the long grass, letting the distant sound of the children’s laughter wash over her.
The colour flashed before her eyes; a vast ocean of vibrant surf that surged over her, towing her along with the ever flowing tide.
The wind ripped through the field, sending the blades of grass fluttering against the bare skin of her legs as the vision dissipated as quickly as it had risen.
Rolling herself over, Claire laid her ears to the ground, tracking the slight pulse of the ground as the horses nearby rattled the earth.
It was serene; peaceful in the rush of highland life and it was just what Claire needed.
That she’d seen the colour blue was no accident and that thought brought her mind straight back to Mr. MacTavish. Jamie. If his massacred back told one story, his endless sea-blue eyes told another.
She’d noticed him, of course. The way his eyes followed her around the room. The previous evening he’d gotten himself beaten in the great hall and Claire had the distinct feeling it wasn’t wholly to save Laoghaire from the shame of being flogged –as he had told her.
Butterflies soared and flopped in her belly, making her skin prickle with goosebumps at the distant wonderings that spiked in her mind at this new revelation.
As much as he had captivated her, making her seek him out randomly for reasons she hadn’t fully admitted yet, she had enchanted him much more deeply.
“Mistress…?” Rupert called, breaking her train of thought as the broad Scot kicked at the dry ground with the toe of his boot. “It’s about time ye got back now, aye?” he said, no room for argument in his statement.
Pushing herself up, Claire brushed stray pieces of detritus from her skirts and she righted herself. Marching down, she studiously ignored her guard, eager not to have him –or Dougal– rule her every move. Part of her felt rebellious. Throwing her head backwards, she fanned out her loose hair in the breeze as she made it under the portcullis, its large spikes hovering over head as she passed under it.
The scent of the stables, the straw that lay along the path leading up towards the entrance to her rooms holding the scent of the fillies, brought back the image of Jamie to her subconscious and she smiled automatically, his under-appreciated innocence buoying her dulled spirits.
Forgetting herself for just a moment, she allowed herself to bask in the past glances he’d bestowed upon her.
The term brought her up short as she pushed the door to the surgery open and began to make her way down the steep staircase, ever aware of Rupert following closely behind her.
Could he possibly, in such a short time, have developed such deep feeling for her?
It was plausible, of course. She’d seen instances of it during the war. Those couples who’d –in the midst of such painful tragedy and horror– taken one look at the other and fallen under a spell to which they’d gladly succumbed.
Claire knew lust. That *feeling* certainly didn’t elicit the kind of baleful stare that Jamie had given her at the news of her leaving.
Just for a instance, he had seemed despondent. His smile had slipped as she’d cleared away and checked his face for any lasting damage. At the time she hadn’t given it much thought. But now, upon processing every interaction from meeting under the stones at Craigh Na Dunn, the pieces all clicked into place.
Jamie had been the one to track her and bring her back to the Mackenzie party. He had held her close through the ride, ensuring her safety as well as her captivity.
On arrival at Leoch, he had put himself forward as her protector, revealing much more of his history to her than he had to others within the castle walls.
If this was to be believed then even his closeness as she’d nursed his immediate wounds was to be analysed. He *had* come close to kissing her. She hadn’t just imagined that.
Claire’s heart skipped a beat as she tapped her fingers against the small wooden table by the fire, the jagged rhythm of her nails against the coarse wood echoing through the small chamber.
“Jesus…H. Roosevelt Christ!” she muttered under her breath as the full picture immersed before her eyes like a completed puzzle.
He loved her.
Rupert busied himself in the background, perplexed by Claire’s odd behaviour but not brave enough to pester her about it. She was where she was supposed to be and that’s all that mattered to him.
Swallowing back the warmth that crept through her body at the thought of young Mr. Mactavish (whom she knew a lot about, but not his real name) falling in love with her, Claire steadied herself.
No matter what, she concluded, he must not be allowed any opportunity to act upon his feelings.
Placing an apple to one side, Claire gazed into the blazing fire, her mind made up.
She had to escape. Returning to the stones wasn’t simply now just for her benefit, but for Jamie’s too.
Unable to reconcile herself, Claire batted the thoughts away.
He must not be allowed to fall any deeper, she realised, far far too late.
At the back of her mind, buried deep enough for Claire to ignore for the time being, a spark began to burn, its tiny orange pulse expanding outwards.
Whether or not she wanted it, the part of her that had finally succumbed to the knowledge of Jamie’s situation had inadvertently and inextricably linked them together.
As Claire curled under her blankets that night, dedicated to acquiring her freedom once and for all – her heart beating slowly, quietly beneath her rib cage – her unconscious mind reached forward into the not-too-distant future and penetrated her dreams.
Soft hands tugged at her laces, pulling the intricately sewn stomacher from the front of her bodice. As the material dropped, freeing her breasts and exposing them to the cool air of the room, his lips ran damp patterns over her needy skin.
Keening, Claire thrust her chest forward, her fingers tangling in his long red locks.
Taking her nipple into his mouth, Jamie obeyed her lascivious –silent– request, arching his body closer to hers.
“I love you…” she whispered into the dark, her legs falling open as the invisible weight of him slipped between her thighs, his spectre pinning her to the lumpy mattress.
Pretend I'm your brother, speak to me. What would you say?
I can't do this!
Of course you can! Alright, here we go
Zen (in a whiny voice):
"I don't want to come with you!! I want to stay in the dark hacking room and let my jacket flow in the wind as I sulk around Mint Eye's Base, destroying things in my random rage fits!!!!"
I don’t want to be human. I want to see gamma rays, I want to hear x-rays, and I want to smell dark matter. Do you see the absurdity of what I am? I can’t even express these things properly, because I have to - I have to conceptualize complex ideas in this stupid, limiting language, but I know I want to reach out with something other than these prehensile paws, and feel the solar wind of a supernova flowing over me. I’m a machine, and I can know much more. I could be much more, but I’m trapped in this absurd body!