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flutteringphalanges · 2 years

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Summary: The sound of footsteps drew nearer as Hopper and Joyce stared intensely at one another in their holding cell, almost as if trying to burn the image of one other’s face in their mind. His bruised hand found hers and though the mere movement caused him great pain, he squeezed it. “No matter what happens, we’re gonna get out of this. You and me, we’re gonna make it.” She nodded her head, thumb brushing his knuckles. “I know.” But as the door began to open, both secretly wondered if those words would be true.

(In which both Hopper and Joyce find themselves captured by the Russians after the Starcourt incident and trials they must face and endure before finding freedom together).

Rating: M

Relationship: Joyce/Hopper

Read on FFN and Ao3

CHAPTER ONE

A/N: First off, HUGE thanks to @whats-a-terrarium for letting me bounce ideas off of you! You’re a big help haha! Second, thank you all for showing me so much support! It means the world! Okay, here’s the next chapter! Hope you enjoy! -Jen

Chapter Two: Hopper

Hopper had only been sixteen when he'd taken his father's red Cadillac for a joyride and crashed it straight into a tree. Even three decades later he could still recall the smell of smoke and the insistent, blaring car horn. Remembered how much it hurt to breathe through cracked ribs. A broken arm, one dislocated shoulder, and a severe concussion had left him unable to do much for days. During that time, he couldn't fathom the idea of ever being in worse shape. The likelihood seemed impossible. How very wrong he'd been.

The hard floor offered no relief to his aching back as Hopper laid there in the dark. Everything hurt. If he were to describe it, it felt as if he'd been struck by a train before being flung into oncoming traffic during rush hour. Not at all pleasant to say the least. He let out a shallow breath, fading in and out of consciousness as every part of him seemed to throb from the beating he went through.

There was only one comfort in this place, a comfort that was equally as miserable. Joyce. Maybe his plan hadn't been the most ideal. But in that plan, Joyce wouldn't have been there. Joyce would've been safe. Joyce wouldn't have been captured and stuck in here with him. Joyce… Pulled from his sleep, he could feel her fingers gently coming through his hair. Smoothing down the mess that it had become. She was humming softly, a tune he didn't recognize. But it was nice. She was nice. His Joyce. Jesus, how could he have let this happen?

"...They're safe…" He mumbled into the quiet softly. Hopper could only hope Joyce could piece his words together and know who he was talking about. The kids. "I promise." There was no proof on his front to offer that. Maybe, he hoped, it was all she needed to hear. "They'll be okay."

Her hand stopped, he really wished it hadn't. "I know."

Joyce's answer was short. Hopper knew she was afraid of who might be listening. He worried too. The KGB were known for their impeccable security-well excluding his, Joyce's, and Murray's success with the destruction of the Key. After that slip up, the Soviets would no doubt be watching them like hawks on prey, taking their every breath as a possible sign of a threat. Hopper turned his head slightly in the direction he thought might hold the door. Even if he wasn't disoriented from the darkness, the likelihood he could've forced himself up and tried to break out was low.

Hopper found himself drifting in and out of consciousness. The air was hot and felt as if a heavy blanket had been laid over him. Suffocating. Feeling Joyce was the only constant reminder that he hadn't died and gone to Hell. Because if he had, she for damn sure wouldn't have been there too. He tried to focus on his breathing and not the agony that his broken body was in. His throat burned for water he wondered if would ever come. One wrong move caused a shock wave of pain skyrocketing up his spine rendering him unable to hold in the moan that came with it. Life was a real shit show right now.

"Hop…"

Joyce's voice sounded distant. Soft. Worried. And Hopper knew her anxiety about his condition was rising. Maybe she feared he'd fall asleep on her and not wake up. Or worse, that he'd just straight up and die now. He inhaled, struggling to pull himself out of the depths of going under.

"Pancakes or waffles?"

His tongue was like sandpaper as he spoke. Such a stupid thing to bring up, but it was the first thing that came to his mind. An easy thought he pulled out without much hesitation. Something lighthearted. Something that made him think of El. What he'd give to hold her in his arms again.

"What?" Joyce asked, sounding confused.

"Pancakes or waffles?" He tried again, trying not to slur. "Pick one."

She paused and Hopper wondered if she thought he'd lost it. "...Pancakes."

Hopper snorted lightly. "Should've guessed."

"Why? What's wrong with pancakes?" And even though he couldn't see her, Hopper knew she was smiling. "Who stepped in and made you the breakfast king?"

"All I'm saying is you are missing out." He closed his eyes for a moment, riding off a dizzy spell. "Waffles are better, just the truth."

It was Joyce's turn to snort. "Hop, I'm not sure if those waffle sundaes you make count."

"Don't knock 'em till you try 'em…" Hopper murmured with a weary smile. "I'll make you some one day. You'll be Team Waffle in the end."

"I'll hold you to that." Joyce replied, her voice beginning to sound far off again. "It's a date."

A date. Enzo's. That thought hadn't crossed his mind until she'd said those words. Twice now their plans had been thwarted. And though he'd been looking forward to some alone time with Joyce, this wasn't what he had pictured. Breadsticks, not beatings. Chianti, not chains. Italian, not Russian. Hopper sighed softly, letting the haze of exhaustion blanket him once more.

"Stay with me, okay?" He heard Joyce say, feeling her hands against him once more. "Promise?"

"Okay." He mumbled quietly, unsure if she had even heard him. "Okay…"

The answer seemed to satisfy Joyce because she let him sleep again after that. Or rather, as best as he could. Maybe if he could just rest for a bit longer, his mind would begin to function enough for him to hatch some sort of idea. Some sort of strategy to get the two of them out of there. Hopper despised this feeling of weakness. Especially in front of her. He was supposed to be protecting her and yet, here he was, a prisoner to his own body. Make her feel safe. That's what he'd told her back at that shithole of a lab. What a fucking joke.

Time passed, however long he was unsure. It was like a fever dream. It was like he was sinking in the quarry back in Hawkins, but no matter how hard he tried to tread through the water, he kept going down. Joyce would tense up at random times leaving Hopper to wonder if it was her way of fighting back sleep. He felt guilty. Ashamed. But as he finally managed to grasp the invisible line of faint consciousness, hoping to muster up the strength to convince her to let him take over so she could rest, the door flew open.

Joyce let out a yelp as four men stormed through the brightly lit entrance and made a beeline straight for him. Hopper felt her fingernails rake against the side of his neck as she was pulled abruptly from his side. His head hit the ground with a thunk as he reached out, weakly gripping onto her ankle as if that would keep her in place. Someone kicked his hand back and he felt something pop in his wrist.

"Hey!" His voice sounded gravelly, strained as he called out to them. "Let her go!"

With every ounce of energy he had left, Hopper forced himself upright. Joyce was struggling in the grip of two guards, both having taken the arm on their respective side. When she looked back at him, he could see the fear beginning to shadow over her brave features. Hopper saw red. As if on instinct, Hopper found a sudden rush of adrenaline and launched himself towards one of the men, knocking off of Joyce and back against the wall. The victory was short lived as the two other men not with her charged forward and forced him back onto the ground. Hopper felt the first boot slam into his rib cage before he had a moment to even register what was happening.

"Stop! Stop it!" But Joyce's desperate cries for mercy were left unheard as they continued to kick him. "Please! You'll kill him! PLEASE!"

There was blood in his mouth. Where it came from, he wasn't sure, but it wasn't good. Through the pain, Hopper tried to focus on Joyce who'd grown blurry in his vision. His ears were ringing and every time he tried to get a good breath in, another kick struck him full force knocking the wind out. At this point, he wasn't sure how much more his body couldn't take. Hell, at this point, maybe he was as good as dead after taking that guard. But he wasn't about to wish himself dead. Not if it meant Joyce would be alone.

"Ostanovka!"

The command cut through the air like a knife. Suddenly, the assault on Hopper ceased. He lay there, heaving as he locked eyes with Joyce. She mouthed something, but he couldn't quite make out what. Before she looked afraid, now she looked terrified. Hopper looked towards where the voice had come from and noticed a fifth man enter.

"Both." The guard said, gesturing with his head to the hall. "Kaptian Barinov's request."

Hopper tried to bite back a grunt as he was hoisted onto his two feet. He stumbled, struggling to hold himself up as his own pair of guards made sure their hold on him was strong. This time, he didn't put up a fight as he found himself being dragged behind Joyce out of the darkness and to whatever hell awaited them next.

Two heavy wooden chairs bolted to the floor each with their own set of arm and leg restraints greeted Hopper and Joyce like old friends. When the guards forced him down into one, he remained stoic even as the metal cuff caused his already swelling wrist great agony. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Joyce receiving the similar treatment. Whatever shit happened to him, he could care less about. It was her his heart had begun to pound for.

"Ah, it feels like it has been a lifetime since we last saw each other and yet, it has not."

Barinov. The name was sour on his tongue. Hopper watched as the captain-or whatever the hell he was, entered the room followed by the warden. Melnikov. He noticed Joyce slightly stiffen at the sight of him. His blood began to boil. Whatever the hell he'd done to her, once he figured out how to get them both free, he'd make the asshole wish he was dead.

"I applaud your restraint, Comrade." Milnikov commented, walking closer to get a better look at Hopper. "I was expecting him dead."

"I considered it." Barinov admitted casually. "But there are many ways he can still be of use."

Of use. As if he were multi-purpose. Hopper knew it was a scare tactic. That they were trying to instill fear in him. Whatever they wanted with him, they could have. Joyce was different. He stared forward, not blinking as Milnikov got right in his face. He could've spit. If his body would've let him, lean forward just enough to bang his head right square into the bastard's nose. But he didn't. He waited.

"And such a use would be…" Milnikov questioned, turning to face the captain.

"One that would benefit you the most, Comrade." Barinov said with a genuine smile, making Hopper's skin crawl. "Kamchatka."

The furthest Hopper had ever been from the States was Vietnam. Other than that, he wasn't well traveled. And sure as hell knew nothing about Russia. But even with that lack of knowledge, he knew well enough that this Kamchatka place wasn't some five star resort. Even though he really wanted to, Hopper kept himself from looking over at Joyce. He knew what she was thinking, he didn't need to see it in her eyes.

"He has strength, it would be a shame not to use it up," Barinov continued. "Let him serve the Motherland. Pay for his crimes."

Minikov nodded his head thoughtfully. "And the woman?"

"That I have thought long and hard about." The captain said, turning to Joyce. "Kamchatka is no place for her kind, which is why I have a proposition." His smile, though small, returned. "Allow the American woman to stay with me. Give me the responsibility of handling her."

"NO!" Hopper roared, everyone's eyes suddenly on him. "Over my cold, dead body she goes with you anywhere!"

No. No, no, no…this couldn't be happening. This couldn't be real. Hopper felt sick, sick like he consumed a carton of milk that expired two months ago. Sick like he'd been on a roller-coaster and his brain had been so rattled it made him nauseated. They couldn't do this. This psychotic asshole couldn't take Joyce-his Joyce away. Not from where he could protect her.

"The decision isn't yours to make." Barinov replied, clearly pleased by Hopper's reaction to the news. "At least you can find some comfort in knowing her life will not at all compare to the hardships you will face. Find good in that."

"I won't let you do this! I won't let you get away with this!" Hopper hissed through clenched teeth, struggling in his restraints. "I'll kill you!"

Barinov cocked his head curiously to one said. "Is that what you want, American? Do you wish to die now? In front of your woman?"

"No!" It was Joyce's turn to cry out. "No! No, please! I'll go with you, I'll do anything! Please, spare him!" Her voice broke as she spoke and the range of emotions Hopper currently felt was indescribable. "I'll go with you…"

The captain clasped his hands together in approval. Hopper could only watch as Joyce was freed from his restraints. She looked at him, so hard it was as if she was trying to burn the memory of him in her mind. All he wanted to do was just grab her. Grab her and hold her tight and never let her go. Hopper pulled at his cuffs as Joyce gave him a watery smile.

"I'll be okay." She promised softly.

"Joyce…" His hoarse voice cracked as he spoke. "Don't…"

"It's okay."

But it wasn't okay. It was Hell. His Hell. And there was absolutely nothing he could do about it. Broken, Hopper could only watch as Barinov's hand settled on the small of Joyce's back, leading her towards the door. Hopper bit down on the inside of his cheek, fighting back the fury and sorrow that swirled around in him. She was gone. She was lost and he couldn't get to her. He didn't even care when Minikov stepped forward with the other guards. Nor when he clenched a fist in the air, ready to strike.

"Welcome to Hell, American."

The blow sent Hopper spirally down into a deep, dark ravine, lost and swallowed by unconsciousness.

A/N: Ostanovka means "stop" in Russian. So now our favorite pairing has been separated from one another. But fret not, they will be in contact...but how and why, you will just have to wait and see. I still haven't decided if chapters will alternate between Hopper's POV and Joyce's, or I will have both in one chapter. Whatever I do, I promise it will not be confusing and will make sense. Feedback is greatly loved and appreciated! It's always amazing to hear your thoughts! Until next chapter! -Jen

#Jopper #Jim Hopper #Joyce Byers #Stranger Things #Hopper x Joyce #Jopper fic #The Light That Breaks Through The Darkness

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rexscyarika · 3 years

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Ner Jetii

An angsty one shot between Rex and gender neutral Jedi reader. The reader is a Padawan but of age. It’s not stated who the reader’s master is or what battalion they serve with but, they talk of rescue and relief so Plo Koon and the 104th could be implied if you so please.

⚠️Mature audiences recommended⚠️

Warnings: Established romantic relationship between Rex and reader, so much angst, heavy survivor’s guilt and reader blaming themselves, reader losing their company in a seppie trap, descriptions of blood and death, dying words, past torture, ptsd flashbacks, hallucinations, mention of post Umbara trauma, mention of nightmares, reader self-harming in a way (using pain to drive their will and unconsciously punish themselves, self-destructing/over exertion, simile of falling through ice/drowning, implied capture and torture of reader, mention of capture and slavery in the beginning, fluff at the end, reader is so traumatized and paranoid, no y/n just pet names, small kiss at the end, reader needs a hug, reader gets that hug from Rex, comforting! Rex, Rex sings to you in Mando’a cause I’m a slut for that language. I hope that’s all 😭

Mando’a translations:

Cyare/cyar’ika: Darling/beloved/sweetheart

Mesh’la: Beautiful

Mando’ad: Mandalorian (lit “child of Mandalore”)

Vod/vode: brother/sister/comrade

Jetii: Jedi

Ner: My

Ret’urcye mhi: Goodbye (lit “maybe we’ll meet again)

Bal kote, durasuum kote: For glory, eternal glory

The lullaby lines are made up from a phrase of remembrance (translations are included by them)

It was just a relief mission. You were supposed to bring food and medical supplies to a remote outer rim system that had been effected by separatist blockades. An easy and simple mission, one to introduce shinies to life off Kamino. At least that’s what it was supposed to be. That was until you had led your company straight into a Seperatist trap. It turns out there were no citizens to help out, no citizens at all for that matter, those that were there had been captured and sold. It hadn’t been much of a fight, you were severely lacking in firepower and experienced soldiers. Sure as a Jedi you are worth a couple hundred battle droids but you can’t help your men when you’re engaging a highly dangerous Sith Lord. At least they had died fairly quickly with minimal suffering. That’s what you get when you have 10 battle droids for every trooper. They keep firing even after all are down. They don’t take prisoners, well not troopers anyway. Maybe it’s for the best for some of them, though. The shinies won’t have to see firsthand the effects of the war that has plagued the galaxy, or wake up trembling with the sound of blaster fire ringing through their ears at night. They will have died knowing nothing more than training exercises and stories from their vode. The others won’t have to mourn for lost vode anymore, they won’t have to worry about their place in the galaxy after the war. Not gone, merely marching away as the Mando’ad say. Marching away from endless battles and no choices for how they live their lives.

Yeah, it was for the best.

But, if that was the case why do their voices haunt you at night? Cry’s of “You could have saved us.” “We were so young.” “Please General I didn’t want to die this young.” and of course the one that nips at your brain 24/7, like a headache that won’t go away “You led us straight to them.”

You didn’t mean to. You’re loyal to the republic and your men. But you’re a Jedi right? You should’ve sensed it, the fact their was a handful of force signatures on a planet said to have billions of citizens and the presence of a Sith Lord for kriff’s sake. You could’ve sensed it. If only you had been been paying attention instead of laughing at stupid jokes with your men, those men same might still be alive.

The Jedi council had tried to reassure you

“A Padawan you still are and an experienced Sith Lord Dooku is. A fair fight it was not.”

“Dooku can mask his force signature, young one. It wasn’t your fault.”

“We cannot save everyone. We are Jedi not gods.”

But that didn’t stop the nagging at your heart. Nor did it stop the knowledge of why the separatists developed such a complex trap to eliminate such a small number of troopers. It was because of you. You had important separatist codes locked in your head, gathered from previous missions. They knew you would be easiest to get at because you were still a Padawan and worked primarily on rescue and relief missions. Missions with low firepower and minimal expectance for combat. Master Windu knew the same codes, but he is far too experienced for them to go after. If only you had trained more, longer, better. You think back to every night you snuck out to have some fun. If you had stayed and went over your studies maybe you could’ve saved them. You wouldn’t have had to hear the dying words of your Captain. Oh your sweet Captain. So loyal and eager since he was shiny right up until his last choked out battle cry of “Bal kote, darasuum kote. Ret’urcye mhi, vod.”.

Forever glory? Where was the glory in being led to a massacre by your Commanding Officer?

He had called you vod. A title reserved for their brothers and those they respected. You didn’t deserve that respect. You weren’t a comrade that had fought valiantly by their side, you were the person that was supposed to protect them, and you let them down. The Mando’a farewell directly translates to “maybe we’ll meet again.”. If there is an afterlife and if you did, you don’t think you could look them in the eyes.

The trauma supporters the council had directed you to talk to when you got back had told you these thoughts were normal. “Survivors guilt” they had called it. As the only survivor your brain tries to tell you it was your fault. But, you weren’t a trooper that had managed to survive. You were the commanding officer. They told you that didn’t matter, it wasn’t your fault.

You wish everyone would stop telling you that, as far as you’re concerned, it was. So you tried to do everything you could to never let that happen again. You brought experienced men on relief missions, ignoring their complaints of this being a shinies job and a waste of their experience. You spent your time either sleeping, eating, training or researching new strategies. Not that your sleeping actually involved much sleeping. It mostly consisted of tossing and turning, flashes of dead troopers and... him. His sickly grin as you writhed in pain under his tortures, the blood curdling laugh as you tried to escape. You’d heard stories of how sick the former Jedi was, but experiencing it was something else. Not just the torture but his presence. Dark, looming and cold. Like falling through ice into cold water. Trapped and desperate to escape.

Every slightly negative feeling that leaked from your fellow Jedi made you freeze. He’s here, you’d think, or that Jedi has turned. So you walked around on eggshells, constantly wary and vigilant of any potential threats. Even now as you focused on the punching bag in front of you were scanning, reaching out with the force to sense any threats. It was becoming exhausting, so you opted to let pain drive your will. Not even bothering to wrap your hands as you threw punches at the bag. Your fists began to slide off the bag on account of your blood staining it red. But you didn’t stop, truthfully you didn’t even feel the pain at this point. You couldn’t tell if the red on your hands was your own or the memories of fallen troopers’.

“I should’ve fought harder.”

You hit the bag with a powerful right hook.

“They’d still be alive if I had”

You opted for a jab.

“I led them straight into that trap.”

Your cross didn’t consist of much technique, just rage and power.

The same time you heard the door to the training room being opened you felt an icy breath near your ear. “The pain will end if you just give me the codes.”

“Never!” You snarled, whirling around and summoning your lightsaber from your belt. Immediately igniting it and pointing it to face the Sith Lord. I look of poor malice fell across your face, a mask to hide the fear.

You were met by a startled trooper, his wraps falling from his hands and his body moving into an instinctive defensive stance.

It took you a second to realize there was no danger, your eyes raking behind him to ensure of such. You disengaged your lightsaber and dropped to your knees with shaky breaths.

“I thought your were him, Rex, I thought he’d found me.” You sobbed into your hands, flinching as you felt a hand on your back.

“It’s okay Cyare, you’re safe, I’ve got you.”

You let him pull you into his lap. He gently grabbed your hand with his, careful to avoid the raw patches that were still oozing blood. His other hand stayed on your back to rub soothing circles and pull you tight to him. He held you as sobs wracked your body, his lips by your hairline, whispered assurances coming from them.

He started to hum softly before they turned to words. It was a Mando’a lullaby, one sung to grieving vod after a loss. You didn’t know many of the words, your knowledge of the language not extending much past the nicknames Rex would call you. It was still comforting though, his voice soft as he ran a hand through your hair.

“Ni su’cuyi, gar kyr’adyc.”

You realized you recognized what he was singing. You heard it whispered from the lips of troopers as their vode mourned. Rex had told you the meanings of some of the lines. (“I’m still alive, but you are dead.”)

“Ni partayli, gar darasuum” he continued humming. (“I remember you so you are eternal.”)

Your sobs slowly turned to sniffles as you sat there with him. Feeling a small sense of comfort and security for the first time in weeks. Relishing in the feeling of being in his arms.

“Cyar’ika.” He had whispered when you had finally gone silent, your breaths coming even and deep now. He brought the hand from your hair to your cheek, gently encouraging you to look at him. “Are you with me, little one?”

You nodded and blinked up at him with swollen eyes. You whispered a thank you as you searched his face. It was soft yet slightly taught with worry. His eyes were sparkling with held back tears, and his mouth was turned up into a small, comforting smile. He looked so young yet so old at the same time. His soft features having been hardened from war and loss, scars from injuries his helmet couldn’t protect from laying here and there. Yet, even after years as a soldier in a war he had no say in he was still so compassionate. He wasn’t cold and unforgiving like some had become. He sat there with care and worry in his eyes, looking at you like you were his whole world. Even broken and bleeding he stayed with you. If you crumbled then he would pick up the pieces and put you back together, just as you have with him. You had been there for him, calming him down from nightmares of Umbara. You had taken his broken heart and sewed it back together with care.

So, he would do the same for you.

“I’m sorry.” You mumbled towards him.

“You have nothing to be sorry for, Mesh’la.”

“But I do-“

He cut you off by bringing his lips gently to yours and sealing them in a gentle kiss.

He pulled away to rest his forehead in yours.

“No you don’t, ner jetii. Not to me, not to anyone.”

He moved to stand up, still holding onto you to support you as you stood on shaky legs.

“Let’s get you to the medbay.” He gestured to your hands once he deemed you stable enough to be able to walk.

You nodded to him and accepted his arm around your waist, your own moving to seek support on his shoulder. You made your way to the medbay, averting your eyes from curious glances at your state. You knew no one would question or mock you. Not with Rex there, his gaze flaming with warning at anyone that looked your way. You still had a lot to get through. You knew more blood and tears would be shed. That voice would continue nagging in your head and you’d still see your fallen company in your dreams. But, it would get better, you had Rex to talk you down and hold you during those times. You had done that for him and you knew he would do the same for you.

His Jetii.

#Rex x reader #gender neutral reader #no y/n #Rex x reader angst #Rex x reader fluff #I just wanna give that man a hug #also the reader cuase they need it omg #this was gonna be slight angst that led to smut to help reader forget but I got carried away #I’m not projecting ur projecting

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vs-redemption · 3 years

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This is the second piece out of seven written for the one year anniversary collaboration event for the @konoblog-simps discord. I encourage everyone to check out the masterlist for today's prompt and support the other creators. Some content is not suitable for minors so please pay attention to the warnings.

Prompt: Angst (Armin Arlert x GN!Reader)

Word count: 1.7K Warnings: None?

Armin hadn’t seemed like much when you first met him during cadet training, at least not to most people. He was smaller and scrawnier than all the other aspiring soldiers, falling dangerously behind during endurance tests and getting overpowered by everyone in the one on one sparring sessions. It was no secret that people questioned his decision to keep pushing himself through, but you saw the potential in him that others failed to.

It was the subtle things you noticed at first. When everyone else complained about the brutal conditions of the training, threatening half-heartedly about giving up, Armin never seemed to waver. Even when he seemed like he might pass out from exhaustion at any moment, sweat pouring down his face and breath coming in labored pants, his eyes remained sharp and determined. Even when he’d been knocked roughly to the ground a hundred times, there was never even a hint that he might be thinking of giving up or running away. It was a little scary actually, but also admirable. Somehow, watching him struggle and endure gave you the strength to carry on as well.

“I… think I have a crush on you.”

You wished for the ground to swallow you up as soon as the confession slipped past your lips. It was so embarrassing to admit it out loud, but after joining the scouting regiment you knew that time was no longer a luxury for you. Nobody was guaranteed a tomorrow once you accepted a position in the scouts, so keeping your feelings inside seemed like a waste. All humiliation from the situation was worth it anyway when you saw the blush creep into Armin’s cheeks.

“Uh…oh.” His response wasn’t exactly awe inspiring, but at least you’d gotten it off your chest. For a moment you wondered if he was even going to respond. Surely he respected you enough to give you an answer either way instead of ignoring the situation completely. He’d never run away from anything before. Thankfully, he didn’t disappoint, and after a pause asks you to sit with him at dinner that night.

The concept of dating in the survey corps didn’t really exist. It was hard enough to try and find a moment just to be by yourself let alone create any type of romantic situation that could be considered a date. It was nice to have that feeling of companionship though. Armin always made sure to spend time with you each day, laughing at your jokes and slowly opening up enough to tell you about the world he imagined was waiting out beyond the walls.

Perhaps there were beautiful landscapes like the ones Armin described to you during meals when he held your hand in his, blue eyes shining with wonder and excitement, but what you encountered during scouting expeditions was the complete opposite of the pictures he’d painted inside your mind. The higher ups had explained exactly what to expect before your first mission, but nothing could’ve prepared you for the actual size of the titans and the amount of death and carnage you’d been forced to witness. Each time you and Armin managed to come out alive seemed like a miracle.

“How much longer do you think we can outrun death before it finally catches one of us?” You ask him sadly. The thought of losing him was unbearable to you, but somehow he still held that spark of resolve.

“We aren’t just outrunning it,” He assures you, pulling you into his arms and pressing a kiss to your forehead. “We’re outsmarting it. The scouts are creating new advantages all the time. Commander Erwin is always coming up with new strategies, and I really think the new thunder spears will make a huge difference for us.”

“But there’s so much we still don’t know,” you remind him. The mysteries of the titans had continued to unfold during your time in the scouts, revealing that there were people who could actually control the monsters from the inside, and that some of them had been traitors the entire time. It was hard sometimes to hold onto the hope that things could get better.

“I can’t make any promises about the future,” Armin admits, his voice calm and soothing despite what he was saying. “But I do know that our chances of seeing the wonders of the world are higher if we keep fighting than if we give up.”

It was just like him to say something like that, and it brought you comfort knowing that he was still the same brave boy you knew from back in the cadet corps, before everything had gotten so horribly confusing. What you hadn’t realized though, was that those traits of his that you admired so much, should’ve been the ones you’d feared.

Your heart had gone cold inside your chest when you heard that he’d tried to sacrifice himself during what everyone was calling the Battle of Shiganshina. However, calling it a battle was laughable. It had been more like a slaughter. Almost the entire scouting regiment had been completely wiped out, including Commander Erwin. You had no idea how you’d even made it out alive, and the only reason you still had Armin was due to the merciful intervention of Captain Levi and the precious titan serum that had been entrusted to him.

Armin wasn’t the same for a while after everything that had happened, and you couldn’t blame him. People were not shy about criticizing him for getting a second chance at life when so many others had died, including the brilliant commander who’d secured so many victories for humanity in the past. He kept to himself a lot, looking miserable at best. As the scouts pushed forward and began to make plans for what would come next, you thought things would get better, but Armin remained distant. He avoided you at meal times and always had an excuse not to be in the same room as you. It hurt you to see him act this way, so you bided your time until you found the chance to confront him.

“I thought it was obvious that we can’t be together anymore,” his voice was dead as if pushing you away didn’t have an effect on him at all.

“What?” tears had already sprung into your eyes, “That makes no sense at all, Armin. Why would you think that?”

“I’ve inherited the colossal titan,” he explains after a sigh. “My life has an expiration date now. Thirteen years… and then I’ll die.” Of course that had been a hard tidbit of information to swallow at first, and your heart still panged with sadness when you thought about it.

“That means we should make the most of the time we still have together, doesn’t it?” You ask weakly. “I know having the colossal titan is a heavy burden to bear, but I’m more than willing to stay by your side and help lighten the load.”

Something in Armin suddenly snaps and he gets a wild look on his face as tears spring into his eyes. “You don’t understand!” His voice was louder now and you flinch away as he points both his hands at himself frantically. “It should be Commander Erwin standing here right now! Not me! It’s not just the burden of carrying the colossal titan. I also have to try and prove that my life was worth saving over his! Somehow, I have to live up to the standards and expectations he left behind!”

“Armin…” You weren’t sure what to say. You’d never seen him look so distressed and unhinged. “Don’t listen to what everyone else has been saying. They weren’t there. They don’t know…”

“What they’re saying is right!” Armin insists, dragging a hand over his face as his thoughts continued to spiral into turmoil. “We just found out that there’s humanity outside the walls… whole nations that want to destroy us! And the greatest commander we’ve ever known is dead…”

“You’re just as great as him,” you pause for a moment before looking down in embarrassment. “That’s why I fell in love with you.”

“And that’s why I have to let you go,” the comment comes out sounding strangled and you look back up at him wearily.

“I don’t understand,” you admit, his rejection hitting you hard and sending waves of sadness and embarrassment through you.

“I heard someone say that Erwin was only such a great leader because he was able to turn himself into a devil, able to make unbelievable sacrifices for the good of the people as a whole,” Armin explains, his voice back to the flat emotionless tone from before. “If I ever hope to be even a fraction of the man he was, I’ll have to give up my humanity too. I can’t make decisions based on who I care about or what my own personal dreams are for the future. I just… can’t be with you.”

You stare at him in disbelief for a moment, letting it all sink in. That spark you’d always seen in his eyes was still there, but darker somehow. Standing before you was the same brave and determined boy you’d met all those years ago, just a different version. He’d never run away from anything in his life, and it was clear that he wasn’t going to run away from the duties that had been placed upon him now. It was just painful knowing the things you loved most about Armin, were the exact traits that ended up breaking your heart.

“I see,” you swallow back your sadness and force a smile. “Well, I know that if victory is possible for us on this little island, it’ll be you who leads us there.”

“Thank you,” Armin nods his head solemnly. “I hope you’re right.”

As he turns and walks away, you try to console yourself as best you can. In truth, Armin’s selflessness only made you love and respect him all the more. And even if he talked about throwing away his humanity, you knew there was no way he’d ever truly harden his heart to the people he cared about. Perhaps if you both made it out of this alive, you’d be able to help him find himself again, and explore all the beautiful places he’d always dreamed of seeing.

#Armin Arlert x Reader #snk x reader #aot x reader #Armin Arlert #snk #aot #discord collab #Cindy's Writing

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petroltogo · 3 years

Note

Pls

Tsuna gets angry-kun out bcs his minions love him.

Pls.

Wanna see it

*cracks knuckles* Alright, Varia handler! Tsuna and the Kokuyo Gang planning a heist for the sake of the Varia’s greater good. Here we go:

Chikusa hadn’t expected Tsunayoshi to contact him. He definitely hadn’t expected Tsunayoshi to want his help in infiltrating Vongola Inc. to release one of their most valuable prisoners. But fucking with Vongola isn’t a job, it’s a damn pleasure. Besides Ken’s been getting twitchy lately. [There’s also the matter that there’s very little Tsuna-kun could ask for that Chikusa wouldn’t grant. But it’s not like Mukuro-sama doesn’t know that so there’s no point in bringing it up.]

The plan is simple and bloodless which is a damn shame, though not unexpected considering it’s Tsunayoshi who’s come up with it.

Vongola Inc.’s HQ looks like an impenetrable fortress -- and they come close, Chikusa will give them that. Their security is impressive and even the most talented hackers can’t infiltrate a system that doesn’t have any entry points. However, Vongola Inc. is a company. Is made up of humans who come and go every damn day. One of those humans is Tsunayoshi. And it doesn’t matter how great the security system is when someone pulls the door open for you.

[continues under the cut]

Not for Chikusa, mind. He and Ken get the fun part because they get to blow Vongola Inc.’ entrance up [taking care not to kill the security that Tsunayoshi greets by name because of course he does] and make a great show of being far more trouble than two supers against an entire organization could ever be.

That’s not to say no one dies. That would be a lie. Sure, they could’ve avoided the bloodshed entirely, maybe, but would Vongola Inc. have taken them seriously? Would them holding back have endangered their own lives? They leave the bystanders and the unarmed be and that’s more than Tsunayoshi dared to ask of them.

[Mukuro never forgot his origin. Chikusa doesn’t remember before but the sight of the Vongola Inc. logo brings long, too-bright hallways to mind and Ken has killed his first three Vongola operatives before the memories fully settle within their consciousness and Chikusa follows him like he always does.]

In the meantime, Mukuro ghosts through the chaotic hallways on the lower levels in Tsunayoshi’s shadow, unseen. They’ve entered the Rubbish Bin before the attack even started and the moment the first -- and unknown to Vongola last -- explosion shakes the building, one of his darling puppets [little Tsu-kun’s knowledge of which employees are responsible for what is proving so very useful] cuts the camera feeds on the five lower floors. It wouldn’t do to give their true target away after all.

Inside the Rubbish Bin, Tsunayoshi points out the sculpture in question and with an order from Mukuro to one of his favorite puppets, it disappears.

[Mukuro doesn’t normally keep his puppets around long enough to pick favorites. Most of the time they’re too broken for him not to lose his patience but teleporters rarely run out of usefulness. And sure, Vongola Inc. has defences against them -- every organization worth their power does. But bringing those shields down from the inside isn’t as hard as people think it is.]

For a long moment, Tsunayoshi and Mukuro both stare at the empty space where the sculpture used to be. “You sure about this, Tsu-kun?” Mukuro asks after a moment, ignores the flinch in response to the nickname. He’s not sure why he asks -- he already knows what the response will be. [Knows it’s far too late for Tsunayoshi to change his mind.] But. It doesn’t have to be him. Mukuro’s hands are covered in blood and for all that it seems like such a negligible difference, saying ‘blow it up’ and pushing the trigger isn’t the same thing. It’s something that Mukuro could shoulder, for he wouldn’t even notice the added weight. And that thought, that desire is-- odd. Mukuro has never wished to shelter anyone else. How curious that Tsunayoshi still hasn’t lost that hold over him, even after all these years.

[Ah, sentiments. They will be the death of him one day.]

Tsunayoshi grits his teeth. His hands are trembling faintly as they reach for the explosives he carries in his unremarkable backpack that no security personal has given a second look, but that doesn’t stop him from walking further down the narrow aisle between the shelves. “Let’s get to work.”

Ten minutes after Chikusa’s and Ken’s frontal assault starts, they get the hell out of dodge. Two minutes after that the Rubbish Bin in the heart of the Vongola Inc. HQ is blown up, taking a good third of the first floor with it.

Everything that was stored within is lost in the explosion.

[Here’s the thing: They don’t need to attack Vongola to rescue Xanxus. They don’t need to destroy countless of unidentified and identified objects and material that ranges from worthless to priceless, don’t need to blow up all those records. The most valuable information is kept elsewhere anyway. But then, isn’t all information valuable. If it was just about getting Xanxus out, all Tsuna would’ve needed was to borrow the services of Mukuro’s teleporter. It would’ve taken ten seconds, if that.

But. It’s not just about getting Xanxus out. Tsuna has to think longterm. Has to consider that he doesn’t know yet how to get Xanxus out of the ice, what kind of damage he’s dealing with. Has to cover the Varia because they will fall under suspicion immediately, reasonable or not, the second Xanxus disappears. Has to buy time. As much as possible. And there’s no way to make Xanxus disappear subtly.

So Tsuna does the opposite. Because an attack by some villain brazen enough to openly move against Vongola, to be crazy enough to set up explosives right in the heart of their HQ -- that’s a statement and a powerful one at that. That Xanxus di Vongola is among the collateral damage, well. That’s just too bad, isn’t it?]

aka the one where Tsuna decides there’s no half-hearted way to move against Vongola. If you aren’t with them, then you’re blowing them up, there is no middle ground.

[Mukuro, Chikusa & Ken in the background: Well, actually you could just...

Tsuna: No. middle. ground.]

Is this me shamelessly poking fun at Vongola for failing to notice Xanxus’ disappearance in the main fic? No, why ever would I do that

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janetbrown711 · 3 years

Note

“ there’s nothing I wouldn’t do to keep you safe” yakko dot Wakko

“What do you mean we can’t stay here anymore Yakko?” Wakko asked his older brother. Yakko sighed heavily. Wakko was six years old now, and Yakko had originally hoped that meant he’d be able to get a grip on things and make his life easier, but his hopes were in vain.

“I mean the orphanage is being shut down by King Salazar, so we have to go somewhere else,” Yakko rubbed his forehead as he folded blankets and put them into bags.

“Why? He isn’t really king, dadoo was,” Wakko frowned, and Yakko shot him a look.

“Wakko- how many times have I told you not to say things like that,” He said in a harsh whisper. Wakko lowered his head and muttered an apology. Yakko sighed. “King William and Queen Angelina the Second died two years ago, and King Salazar took his place.”

“Why does he want to shut down an orphanage? Doesn’t he have important things to do?” He asked.

“You’d think that, wouldn’t you?” Yakko scoffed. He looked at his younger siblings and sighed again.

“King Salazar isn’t a good man. He’s very greedy, and wants to put up a different shop here because he doesn’t want to fund the orphanage anymore,” Yakko explained.

“But we don’t have anywhere else to go, doesn’t he know that?” Wakko huffed and crossed his arms. Yakko tried to think of a response as his eyes went to Dot, who was running around chasing a butterfly that had gotten inside somehow.

“I know that Wak... but there isn’t anything we can do,” He shrugged and continued packing.

“There has to be something,” Wakko kicked the ground and thought.

“Wakko, there just... isn’t. Not everything can be stopped,” Yakko touched his younger brother’s shoulder. Wakko didn’t respond, looking at the ground intensely as he thought.

“C’mon Wak, we have to go,” Yakko said, tying up the blankets and what little clothes they had into one blanket that he slung around his shoulder. He called to Dot, and she ran on over, beaming up to him with the confidence and joyfulness that only a naive two-year-old could possess.

“Wak.” Yakko said, becoming impatient. Wakko sighed and kicked the ground, muttering, but Yakko didn’t particularly care, and the warners left the now empty orphanage.

“Where we go?” Dot asked her eldest brother.

“Somewhere else, but not too far, Acme Falls is home,” Yakko said, bluffing his confidence. At least he knew some of it was true; no matter what, he was never going to leave Acme Falls. His mom told him to stay there, that was where he was going to stay. He couldn’t risk him and his sibs getting recognized, he couldn’t afford to lose them too...

“I want to go back,” Wakko huffed again. Yakko groaned internally, getting very tired of the wave of moodiness that had overcome his brother.

“We can’t go back Wak, I just explained that to you,” He stated, avoiding looking at a few of the townsfolk who were shooting them looks of pity.

“I want to go home,” Wakko stomped. Yakko stepped back.

“Wakko, we don’t have a home. We don’t have anywhere to go,” Yakko said for what felt like the millionth time in two years.

“Why can’t we go back and fight for our home?!” Wakko shouted, angrier than before. Yakko’s eyes widened, and he quickly scanned to see who was watching before he pulled his brother by the collar of his shirt into an ally, and Dot followed closely behind.

“Wakko, where on earth are you getting these ideas?” Yakko harshly whispered.

“Those stupid stories you tell Dot-”

“Hey!” Dot protested but was ignored.

“-talk about brave princes who fight evil. Why can’t we? King Saladbar-”

“King Salazar is a grown-up, and very, very powerful. We couldn’t fight him if we tried.” Yakko put his foot down.

“C’mon, in Dot’s stories it’s always the little guy. We could fight him,” Wakko said proudly

“Yeah!” Dot agreed with his enthusiasm, not really grasping what he was saying.

“Not ‘yeah’ Dot, that’s a very dumb idea,” He told her.

“You said good people always fight for what's right and to protect what they love,” Wakko scowled.

“Of course they do Wakko, it’s just-”

“Then why don’t we fight?!” Wakko seemed outraged now and Yakko really, really hoped no one was listening in to any of this.

“Because you’re just a kid Wakko. You can’t fight,” Yakko said.

“Not true- I fight Dot and I win,” Wakko crossed his arms.

“She’s two, she doesn’t count,” Yakko rolled his eyes. “And besides, I am protecting you two.”

“Faboo job so far,” Wakko muttered under his breath, but Yakko heard it clear as day.

“Watch your tone Wakko or so help me-”

“Or what? You aren’t Mum or Dad,” Wakko stomped, which made Dot jump and scurry behind Yakko.

“Wakkorotti Alan Warner so help me-” Yakko felt his temperature rise with anger, but he swallowed it best as possible, bringing his fist to his mouth and attempting to take calming breaths.

“Look, I know you’re confused. I’m sorry that the orphanage closed, there’s nothing we can do about it,” He said, looking down when he saw Dot hold his hand. “Just... know that there’s nothing I wouldn’t do to keep you- either of you safe, okay? I love you guys more than anything,” Yakko said.

“If you’d do anything to protect us, then why won’t you fight Salazar, huh??? Why did you let him take away our home???”

“Why did you let Mum and Dad die?!”

Wakko’s words felt like a giant bat hit him right in the chest and left him feeling utterly speechless. He looked at Wakko and saw that tears were streaming down his face, and he covered his mouth with his hands. Yakko couldn’t look at him, and he turned around to face the back of the alley.

“Yakko?” Dot asked quietly. She was likely confused from all of the shouting, but Yakko didn’t have it in him to comfort her. He was done.

He could still see his mother in his mind, all bruised and bloodied. He remembered what her soft velvet gloves felt like against his cheek, her soft and tender kisses on his forehead, and he could still hear her cries of agony right before the gunshot that silenced her.

Guilt had wracked his mind ever since that night. At first, he hadn’t been able to sleep, he stayed up for weeks at a time, before exhaustion got to him and he was forced to sleep. He was slowly able to regain control of his guilt, with the help of the local doctor, but it still rested in the back of his mind, like a sleeping dragon.

A dragon that Wakko had just woken up.

“Y-yakko I’m sorry- I-i didn’t mean it,” Wakko was quick to apologize, but Yakko couldn’t look back at him.

He hadn’t gotten to say goodbye to his dad, but he had seen his mother. He could’ve done something, but he froze, he froze, like some idiot and he had gotten caught, and because they saw him they killed her.

It was his fault. He froze, and because of that his mother was killed.

“Y-yakko please, I’m s-so s-so sorry. I didn’t mean it- You did what you could,” Wakko was practically sobbing at his point. Yakko glanced back at him, and that confirmed his suspicion. Wakko took his glance back as an invitation to hug him, and soon Yakko was almost crushed by the strong embrace of his little brother and little sister. Yakko swallowed painfully as he felt a sob of his own get caught in his throat.

“I’m so so so s-so sor-sorry Ya-Yakko, I-i love you,” Wakko squeezed tighter. “

“I-i-” Yakko started, but he couldn’t speak. He knew his siblings didn’t understand, how could they? They were trying their darndest to comfort him, but they didn’t understand. Whether or not Wakko meant it wasn’t relevant, he was right, and the weight of that fact would rest on Yakko’s shoulders for the rest of time. Yakko began to cry.

“You're the best big brother I would ever wish for! I didn’t mean any of that! You love us a whole lot a-and we love you too, right Dot?” Wakko sniffled and looked to his two-year-old sister, who nodded enthusiastically.

“Yeah! Dot loves Yakko!” She said. Yakko couldn’t help but chuckle a little at that. Dot’s way of speaking did that to him.

“Yeah! A-and I love you too! You’re the best big brother and a good prince and a good protector,” Wakko let go of him only to wipe his tears off of his own face. Yakko did the same and took in a deep breath.

“I love you two too,” Yakko said shakily. Wakko bit his lip.

“I didn’t mean it really- It’s Saladbar’s fault, not yours. He’s evil and mean and he decided to attack our home. It isn’t your fault mum and dad gone, I was being stupid,” Wakko said. Yakko nodded slowly, doing his best to take in the words. They almost sounded to elegant to be Wakko’s, but Wakko had a knack for expressing his emotions, something even he, the quote-on-quote “talkative” sibling, struggled with.

“Thank you Wak... just... don’t ever say anything like that again, okay?” Yakko asked him. Wakko nodded his head a thousand and one times.

“I promise, Yakko. I didn’t mean it. Saladbar is the one to blame, I hate him,” Wakko stated affirmatively. Yakko couldn’t help but snicker had his mispronunciation of Salazar, which made Wakko happier.

“While I usually don’t condone hatred... I’ll let it slide this one time. We can hate Salazar,” He said. Dot and Wakko beamed.

“Good, because I really, really hate him,” He said.

“Yeah! Dot hates Saladbar!” Dot shouted, raising a tiny fist in the air and giggling.

“Good,” Yakko smiled at her and took her hand. “I’m glad we all can agree on that.” He went to pick up the bag of their stuff, but Wakko took it instead, and held his brother’s other hand.

“Now, let’s go find us some shelter. There’s got to be something around here somewhere...” Yakko said, and together the little family walked out of the alleyway and began to look for somewhere where they would start the next chapter of their lives, secure in the knowledge that while they couldn’t change the past they did have each other, and that’s all that mattered.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11

#animaniacs #yakko wakko and dot #wakko warner #wakkos wish #yakko warner #my fics #dot warner #angst

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prettybiching · 3 years

Note

jon ossoff + celebratory sex after he's sworn in?

Home To You

Pairing: Jon Ossoff x Senator!fem!reader

Read Part One HERE

Warning: 18+ mature scenes, oral (male receiving), unprotected sex, swallowing cum, slight rough sex, angst, mentions of death, insurrection and angry mob. Let Me know if I missed something!

Word Count: 4,325 words

Note: There’s probably so many typos in this because I wrote this on a shitty laptop, sorry about that. Hope you guys enjoy teehee xoxo.

It's strange how quickly life moves. One moment you were in bed, with a man you were head over heels infatuated with, tucked in safely beneath his arms and the next, you were running for your life, ducking behind pillars, holding onto your breathe inside the United States Capitol.

Jon had almost begged to take an earlier flight out to DC to be there with you as you tried to process the horrors of the day you had experienced. You, however, insisted he stayed back and continue with his original schedule.

Yes, you did want him beside you during these difficult times. When you'd wake up in the middle of the night in cold sweat because your mind had replayed the events of the insurrection, the gunshot you'd heard, a narrow miss from the mob, all the moments that would be embedded in you forever. You wanted nothing more than to be in his arms, safe and secure, far away from the horrors of what you had experienced. You craved to tell him just about everything you had come to realise while in your moment of terror.

You knew Jon would not hesitate to fly down to DC for you, but you knew you couldn't be selfish, not when the country's government was already in a fragile state, divided to its core. Jon already had a storm waiting for him when he'd take office, and you weren't about to give the Republicans any more ammunition. You weren't going to allow Jon to suffer as you had done when you came into office.

The two of you remained in close contact throughout Jon's transition period, mostly because the insurrection had invoked a new burning flame for the both of you.

Jon had grown worried sick, knowing that you were inside the building, knowing that the violent mob wanted to kill you and they wouldn't hesitate if they spotted you. Every time the media reported an injury, a gunshot, he held onto his breath, praying it wasn't you. Unlike other lawmakers who were able to stay in contact with their families throughout the lockdown, your phone had died, merely minutes after you texted Jon and your family.

In case I don't make it, I need you to know you've meant the world to me.

You hadn't told him, so as not to encourage his bid to fly out to you but you'd thought about Jon, for so long when a Capitol police officer escorted you and Senator Booker to the safety bunker. When your brain had finally received enough oxygen to think, your mind could only form images of the moments you had spent with Jon.

Never in a million years had you expected to be so infatuated with him when you flew down to Georgia for the runoff elections. You'd told yourself not to bat an eye every time he smiled at you, made a charming comment or made you laugh. However, he had a way of making everyone fall in love with him. You were no exception.

Your heart clenched at the thought of never seeing him ever again. What if you died before telling him just how much he meant to you? You had to, at the least, tell him how proud you were of him and how bright the future ahead of him was.

Life seemed so vulnerable at that moment. You wished you had hugged Jon a little longer, memorised his face a little closer, savoured the taste of his lips a bit more. You shouldn't have taken so long to act on your feelings. If you were to die today, the only memory you'd have would be of the night before.

Jon, he was all you could think about, his name calming your frantic heart just a little. God, you wanted to hear his voice, you wanted to hear him say your name, reassure you that you'd meet him once again that you'd get to love him just a little longer.

As much as you wanted to spill your heart out to him, you knew you couldn't and would never do it over the phone. You needed him to be in front of you, free to feel and touch when you told him just how much you loved him.

When Jon arrived in DC, the night before his swearing-in and the inauguration of Joe Biden, he knew it would be impossible for the two of you to meet as you both had crucial tasks at hand. You two would see one another in the Capitol on the morning of the inauguration.

You felt jittery as you walked down the halls of the Capitol once again. The sound of your heels hitting the tiles echoed throughout the empty floor, your eyes were focused on the plaques hanging on the walls, carefully scanning them to find the name you were searching for. A proud smile tugged onto your lips as you spotted the shiny new golden plaque hanging by the mahogany door.

Your heart began to hammer against your ribcage as you racked your knuckles against the hardwood door. When the door was opened, you were met with Jon's astonished face, his brows at first knitting together in confusion before his eyes grew wide, his mouth hanging wide open.

You are unable to get a word out before he's pulling you into a bone-crushing hug, his hands wrapped tightly around your waist as if scared that you'd fade away from existence. A giggle escapes your lips as sink into his embrace. You couldn't help but nuzzle your face into the crook of his neck, taking in the scent of his aftershave, enjoying the feeling of the short curly strands above his neck and the way he held onto you.

You swore you could've cried then and there.

"Jon?" you called out after a few moments, your voice muffled by the fabric of his shirt. He hums, making not attempt of pulling away. "I think we should move."

You don't mean to laugh, but you do as he makes a noise of protest, only to tighten his arms around you, swaying your conjoined bodies sideways. You don't want to let go either, but there are so many other things you wanted to be doing with him as well. Not to forget his limited number of staffers were also inside his office, undoubtedly staring at the two of you in bewilderment.

"Okay..." you lift your head from his neck, tapping your hands on his back to make him move as well. "Jon?" you poked, the movements of your hands getting more frantic. "Jon, Jon, Jon, Jon, Jon, Jonnnnnnn----"

"Okay, okay, I'm pulling away," he finally lets go of your waist, the action instantly filling you with coldness from the removal of his body heat. He feigns annoyance towards you, and you can't help but giggle. You'd missed his silly antics, but more importantly, you'd missed him.

You don't waste another second, grasping onto his freshly pressed baby blue shirt and pulling him down into a tender kiss. He's quick to respond, his hands finding their way to your cheeks, holding you in place as he moved his lips against you with fervour. You could feel the desperation in his movements. What had started as an innocent longing kiss was turning into a heated reminder of the two of you had been missing.

You part your lips for a second, long enough for him to push his tongue into your mouth, eliciting a moan from you.

As if a bell had rung in your head, you instantly pull away, your cheeks feeling as if they were on fire, your eyes blown as you attempted to catch your breath.

"Did-did I do something wrong?" he tilts his head in confusion, swiping his tongue over his bottom lip. He's looking at you with those puppy eyes that you'd come to adore and you swear you're about to faint.

"No!" you're quick to retort, extending both of your hands in front of you, shaking your head frantically. "We just--your staff is right there," you point inside the office where his young staffers pretended as if they weren't there.

"Oh," is all he says, rubbing the back of his neck in realisation, his head hanging low, his cheeks flushing bright red. "Right."

Your lips split into a toothy grin, enjoying his flustered state. You want to continue this, but you know the two of you don't have much time. You would be required on the Capitol Hill balcony for the inauguration, and there you would have to act as if you aren't head over heels in love with Senator-elect of Georgia.

"What? You're not going to introduce me to your team?" you tease, poking his side. When he finally looks up, he's still blushing deep red, and the sight makes your heart flutter just a little more, to see the effect you have on him.

"Right, come on in."

You greeted the young staffers, some only a few years younger than you with a smile on your face, hoping to encourage them in their new venture. These people would help shape policies and pieces of legislation that would go on to shape the future of your nation.

They took notice of the thick atmosphere, having witnessed you and Jon cross the boundary of being just colleagues. They were quick to move out of your way, leaving you both alone in his office.

Wordlessly, you strolled through the room, running a hand along with his desk, taking in your surrounding. His office was structured almost identical to yours and the only thing making it seem different was the interior. "Nice office you got here," you smirked, tilting your head towards Jon who watched you with his hands stuffed inside his pockets.

"Thanks, I got it with the job," he laughed, taking a seat behind the desk. His suit jacket was left hanging on the coat stand by the door, and your eyes caught the navy blue patterned tie he was wearing.

You strut towards him, towering over his figure and instinctively his hands reached forward to thread his fingers onto yours. "I like your tie."

"What can I say? My girlfriend has good taste," he shrugs, pretending as if his words didn't just ignite a fire in you.

"Since when did I become your girlfriend?" you laugh, a stark contrast to the frantic beating of your heart. He squeezed your hands, and you liked how easily his palm fitted against yours.

"W-would you like to be?" you have to bit your bottom lip to keep yourself from smiling, he looked at you with those big puppy eyes, a hint of nervousness underlying beneath.

Untangling your hands, you lowered yourself onto his lap, careful not to crease your pantsuit and overcoat too much. His hands settled on your hips, holding you in place. You lean forward until both of your foreheads are touching, his warm breath fanning over your face, your eyes fluttering shut.'

"It's going to be very complicated," you murmured after a few seconds, your eyes still closed.

"I'm willing to work for it."

You have no doubt about that. You'd walk through hell and back to experience your future with him, just like envisioned it during the insurrection. However, things weren't as straightforward.

"It could sabotage both of our careers," you retorted, lifting your head just slightly to meet his eyes. His eyes were looking at you with such delicacy, you didn't want to talk--talk about the consequences of your actions but just kiss him and keep kissing him until the world around you both disappeared.

"It won't," he answered firmly, squeezing your hips, your hands caressed his jawline, brows knitting together. "We will be okay. We can make it work--"

"We can't be selfish, Jon," you said, no matter how painful it was to say it. "We have a duty to our people, and if we do this we'll have to hide our relationship from the world, we would have to lie---"

"Do you want this?" He cut off your rambling with a simple question that had the gears in your mind turning.

You did, of course, you did. You wanted nothing more than to be with Jon. He was all you could think about when you thought you were going to die, when you heard those gunshots and when you were stuck in that bunker with all those Republicans.

"Yes, yes I do," you answered firmly.

"Then let's just do this, for us. Forget about everyone else for now. It's only you and me. Okay?"

"Okay."

Then he's smiling at you in a way he had never done before, so bright, he could blind the sun itself, and it makes you giggle. You liked seeing him in this way, so unlike the public political demeanour, he carried with himself all the time. This Jon was reserved only for you.

He leans forward, closing the short gap between the two of you, pulling you into a kiss.

That spell is broken when your phone begins to ring in the pocket of your coat, making you pull away from him, both of you breathless and panting.

"Yeah, okay, I'll be out in a second."

"It's time to go," you tell Jon, helping yourself out of his lap before he pushes himself off his chair.

The two of you don't have time to utter another word as Beverly is waiting outside the door with two security agents. You're about to go your way when Jon calls out your name, making you turn towards him.

"I never got to tell you just how gorgeous you look today."

With that, he turns away, leaving you in a puddle.

You enter the balcony first, with Beverly right behind you. Ignoring the cameras panning on you, you scan the area for some of your more favourable colleagues. You meet the eyes of Elizabeth Warren who beckons you towards her and just as you're about to move, you feel a hand slip into yours.

You knew just who it was by the way his hands fit into yours, his touch so familiar.

Your head snaps to the side, staring at Jon in bewilderment. Did he really just out the both of you in front of everyone. He's not even sworn in yet, and he's already gone crazy, you think.

"What the fuck?"

Jon dares to wink at you, walking alongside you with a smugness that you had come to familiarise yourself with over the past few months. "How can I not tell the world that I'm lucky enough to be with you?"

If it were any other time, you would've found yourself flustered at his comment, but now, you could only roll your eyes. He could really be one cocky motherfucker when he wants to be.

He takes note of your tensed shoulders and squeezes your hand, reassuring you. "Just relax. It's only you and me, remember?"

Sucking in a deep breath, you nod in agreement. At least there is one less thing to worry about now.

-----

With your relationship now out in the open, there was no reason for you miss his swearing-in ceremony. You joined your dear friend and colleague, Cory Booker as he escorted Jon into the Senate Chamber with Reverend Raphael Warnock and Alex Padilla beside him.

"I can't believe you didn't tell me about Ossoff, Y/L/N," Cory said in disbelief. "I mean yeah, you two looked adorable during his campaign, but damn, I thought we were friends."

You roll your eyes, knowing he was going to bring it up every chance he got from now on. "It kind of just happened."

"Hmm. You're still not forgiven."

You're by the gallery with the two other spouses, a proud beaming smile on your lips---hidden by the mask. You have to stop the joyful tears from spilling, but you're just so goddamn happy as he's called in by Vice President Harris.

He catches your eye as he's walking towards the podium, sending a wink at your way, making you erupt into giggles. He knew you were a blubbering mess underneath and he was going to make the most out of your reaction later on.

You have to stop yourself from jumping on your feet when he's done taking his oath, and Kamala Harris congratulating him.

You run down from the gallery as fast as your heels allow you to move and you leap into Jon, him catching you in his arms with ease. He's laughing against you, his laugh resonating through his chest.

You pull back slightly, bringing your mouth near his ear and in a low, sultry tone you whisper, "Congratulations, Senator."

His grip around your waist tightens, squeezing your side as if warning you to behave. Ignoring him, you pull down your mask to plant a kiss on his cheek.

"Just wait till I get you alone."

Oh, but you can't wait.

-------

Despite Jon telling you to be on your best behaviour, he's the first one to break. As soon as the two of you are out of the public eye, his hands are all over you, his mouth trailing sloppy kisses onto your neck, attempting to push down the fabric of your crisp white shirt beneath.

"Have I told you just how sexy you look when you're acting all bossy and shit?" he murmurs between kisses, a slight moan escaping your lips. Your fingers tangle themselves into his hair, ruffling his styled locks back to its original form, just the way you liked them.

"Mhmm," your eyes are fluttered shit, your body supported only by Jon's hold on you. If he were to remove his arms, you'd drop down onto the floor in no time.

"You better get used to it," you manage to word out, overwhelmed by the feeling of his lips all over you. He moves his mouth from your neck, up your throat, feeling your pulse against his lips. You notice as he places on longing kiss over that spot.

"I can't wait."

The two of you were in the lobby of your apartment complex, your humble abode just a few doors away. If anyone was to walk out of one of those doors, the sight greeting them would be anything but appropriate. You knew the right thing to do would be to pull away from Jon and wait until both of you are inside before continuing with your rendezvous.

But he is insatiable, the spell he has you under in unbreakable, and the last thing you want is to be away from his touch, not when you'd thought you could never experience it again.

Your mind is foggy, his mouth still exploring every inch of your skin he's able to find when you're trying to unlock the door to your apartment. "God fucking damn it," you mutter in frustrating, making Jon chuckle against your skin.

As soon as you get the door open, presses you against the door, your head hitting the doorframe with a soft thud. His head falls back to your neck, planting sloppy wet kisses, between small bites. Meanwhile, your hands grip onto his suit jacket, attempting to pull it off of him.

"Take it off," you order as he kisses his way up your neck.

He detaches himself for a second, following your command. You take the time to rid yourself of your overcoat, throwing it across the room.

When the two of you meet once again, he finds your lips, pushing his tongue in your mouth, groaning your name. When he pulls back for air, your lipstick is smudged, staining his mouth and both of your lips swollen. His eyes are darkened with lust, the view giving you an idea.

In a fluid motion, you drop down onto your knees, your eyes landing on his hardened bulge restrained by his pants.

You bit your lips, your mouth water and you look up at him with big doe eyes. "You deserve a congratulatory gift."

His hands find themselves into your hair, gripping onto your locks enough to guide your movements. "I'm all yours, sweetheart."

With that, your hands dart to the zipper, undoing it in one swift motion, pulling his pants down along with his boxers.

Your hands wrap themselves around his shaft, you dip your head down, licking off his precum with kitten licks while looking at him through hooded eyes.

He lets out a groan, throwing his head back the moment your tongue met his tip, sending a shiver down his spine. "God...you know just how to work your mouth don't you?"

He reaches his hands forward to cup your jaw as you wrap your lips around his head, his thumb caressing your cheeks while you sucked swirled your tongue around his shaft.

Your mouth left his cock, your hands still pumping and twisting him, keeping him in a state of euphoria while you turned your head to the side, kissing the palm of his hand.

"Did you miss me, did you think about my hands wrapped around your cock like this?" he moaned at your words, watching you intensely, his lustful eyes worshipping you as you licked up his pointer and index finger before sliding them into your mouth. You sucked on his fingers, tongue licking the pads of his fingertips before swallowing his digits until your lips grazed his knuckles.

Jon watched intently, his fingers going in and out between your lips and glistening with your saliva. He could feel the blood rushing downwards, making his cock twitch as if he wasn't already aroused.

You felt him shift against you, making you smirk. You let go of his fingers with a sloppy pop and dive your mouth back onto his swollen length. You sucked and slurped around his girth with quick bobs of your head, hand stroking and twisting the rest, matching the rhythm.

"Fuck...don't stop," he groans, the grip of his hands on your hair tightening, giving you light pushes down onto his cock.

You moaned, swallowing him deeper with each push, letting his tip kiss the back of your throat repeatedly, going in deeper and deeper until your gag reflex kicked in and pushed him out.

With your hand still rubbing and squeezing him up and down, you take a deep breath when you have the chance, gulping and swallowing the mixture of your drool and his salty precum all the while staring at him with large innocent eyes. He lets out a growl at the sight of your swollen lips.

Lewd sounds filled the room as you squeeze and jerk his wet length tighter with each pump. He bucked his hips towards your face, you could feel his muscles tense up as he was getting closer to his release. His hand held you in place while he fucked you into his mouth with erratic thrusts.

He lets out a groan before hissing at the feel of your mouth, "Open up for me, sweetheart---oh, fuck."

Pulling out a couple seconds before he cums, he pumps himself his tip on your tongue, his body shivering and twitching slightly as he shot his load into your mouth.

His chest heaved as he watched you stand back on your heels while playing with cum on your tongue and lips.

"God, you're just perfect, aren't you?" he lets out a breath, staring at you with adoration.

Swallowing everything in your mouth, you smirk, leaning forward to wrap your arms around his neck, planting a chaste kiss on his Adam's apple.

"Fuck me, Ossoff."

He doesn't need another word before he lifts you from the ground, carrying you to your bedroom and almost throwing you onto the bed.

He kneels in front of you as you unbutton your pants and he pulls them down, leaving you only in your white shirt. He parts your legs open, finding your soaking wet panties. In a swift motion, he rips them of you, making you gasp.

He slides his fingers over your clit a few times, spreading the wetness before he lays above you before holding his growing erection near your entrance. Without a warning, he shoves himself in, feeling your warm and wet walls clenching around him immediately. Your fingernails dig into the fabric of his shirt as he entered you.

"Fuck, sweetheart, you're so tight..."

He doesn't give you much time to adjust, ramming his cock deep into you while holding you down on the mattress at your shoulders. With each quick, rhythmic thrust, a loud moan escapes your mouth.

"You like this, huh? you like the feeling of me deep inside of you?"

"Yesss, oh my god, yes," you whimper, your pelvic muscles tightening, making him groan animalistically.

"Turn around on all fours."

You turned around, crawling on all fours. Jon plunged back into you from behind, grabbing your hips against him, hitting your cervix. You keep on chanting his name in gasps. Meanwhile, his eyes never looked away from where the two of you met. The noise of your moans, the clapping of flesh and wet folds filled the silence.

He pounds into you, his movements sloppy as you feel his cock pulsate. The two of you are moaning loudly, your breaths coming out ragged and the coil tightened in your stomach, ready to snap any time.

'Fuck--Jon. I'm-I'm gonna cum," you cried out in pleasure.

Jon began playing with your clit, rubbing quick circles and that additional action along with his rough thrusts was enough for you to reach your climax. You screamed into the mattress tightening around his cock, while he still pushed in and out of you, only to spill himself inside you a few moments later.

A few hours later when the two of you are tangled between the bedsheets, free of any clothing, you trace patterns onto his cheeks, a warm smile tugged on your lips as he watched you with endearing eyes.

"What's that smile for?"

You shook your head, your grin growing wider. "I'm just happy to be home to you."

#jon ossoff fic #jon ossoff #jon ossoff x reader #jon ossoff smut #smut #jon ossoff fanfiction #jonossoff

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problematicfavesareproblematic · 3 years

Text

Hiding From the War We Claim to Fight For

Dick Winters x Reader

Chapter 2- Like Darkness Drawn to the Night

Summary: Dick considers how to make ammends while you are reminded of your position in the Airborne

Warnings: ANGST AGAIN, some backstory, more internal monologue than any of you crazy cats asked or signed up for, nix being a smug little bitch, some wildly inaccurate and made up military rules, my usual nonsense

Title and Chapter name taken from The Hollow in Retrospect by Corey Kilgannon

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Dick’s fingers hovered over the keys of the typewriter, fingers starting to shake from inaction as he stared at the row of blank paper waiting to be filled.

How anyone could write reports all day was beyond him.

He’d rather relive each and every scorching run up and down Currahee while under enemy fire than compose another sentence, let alone an entire document. More than anything, he wished he could just write in the straightforward, bullet point style that SInk and Nix’s intelligence reports came in.

Briefly, Dick wondered if it was this difficult for everyone else in the military, or if he was just uniquely inept.

Whenever he saw you writing reports, your fingers danced over the keys like a concert pianist. You made it look easy.

The thought of you brings back the sour feeling in his stomach, an anxious nausea rolling over him like a rogue wave. His blood was both too hot and too cold in his veins, the sight of your heartbroken face carved into the inside of his eyelids.

“You made me part of it…. You stood there and did nothing to stop it.”

He couldn't deny your accusations of negligence, even though every fiber in his body ached to reject such claims. When had he lost that part of his humanity? Where had it gone? He’d had it in England, he knew he had still felt it in Normandy….maybe it was after Hall died?

Had he left it on that hillside in Sainte Marie du Mont, as he watched the city down the way exploding in fire and fury?

It scared him- to think that he hadn’t even felt the man he’d been slipping away.

Had it been obvious to anyone else?

Had it been obvious to you?

Forcing himself to refocus on his report, he reread the last part he’d written and frowned. He’d reached the part in his report of the October 5th report that he’d been dreading: the part where you got hurt….

When the men had brought Alley back from the Crossroads, Dick had thought them lucky that only Moe had sustained injuries- serious ones but non-life threatening.

It hadn’t been until Joe Liebgott suddenly looked around in fear and asked if anyone had seen you that Dick realized that this wasn’t just a matter of re-securing a border anymore.

It was a body retrieval.

He hadn’t even had time to get angry or scared or confused as to why you were out so close to the frontlines before he’d gotten whatever men he could together to retake the Crossroads, his sense of duty and obligation taking over his more emotional mind and giving it a purpose by way of distraction.

You weren’t in the dike where Liebgott had assumed you’d fallen, something that provided little comfort for both Dick and the men who’d grown to love you like a sister. While no body usually meant that there was still hope of life, the fact that you could’ve very well been taken squandered any such optimism.

No body, no answers.

When Dick had thrown himself off of the dirt road and slid into the dike for cover, it had been your whimper of pain that had brought life back into his body. Somehow, he’d managed to get his hand over your mouth before you could make much of a sound, your eyes wide and bright in the dark as he stared down at you in relieved wonder.

You must’ve been laying out in the cold for at least an hour, your calf bleeding steadily as you shivered in the damp muck of the grassy slope. As carefully as he could, he’d rolled his body over yours in a desperate hope to offer you some warmth, his heart going a thousand miles a minute as he processed the fact that you weren’t dead- that there was still a chance of you making it out of this alive.

“Are you hit?” he asked as quietly as he could, watching as his breath moved the hairs that had fallen loose around your face like some gentle breeze.

You nodded, knocking your left knee against his leg to indicate where you had been injured. He realized he still had his hand clamped over your mouth and lifted it up slowly, worried that you might make another pained sound and give away your position.

“Not bad,” you hissed, your jaw tight as you tried to keep your voice quiet. “Bad ricochet…. Moe? The guys—?”

“Safe.”

You’d let out a sigh of relief, swallowing a few times before seeming to refocus and process what Dick’s being there probably meant.

“A truck with three men passed about six minutes ago,” you sighed, and Dick could feel your hands move from your sides to slide between both of your stomachs to start pulling at your belt. His face went red and he quickly rolled off of you, eyes wide at the insinuation of the act before realizing that you were trying to give him something to make a tourniquet out of.

He knocked your lethargic hands out of the way and helped you slide it from your belt loops, wrapping an arm around your waist to unclip your holster that was inhibiting the belt’s release.

“Just you?” you had asked, exhaustion from blood loss beginning to stain your voice.

Dick sighed a ‘no’, looking back the way he’d come from before looking back down at you.

“I’ll be back,” he had promised, looping the belt around your leg and securing it just below your knee. “I’ll come back, okay?”

Your hands took the tail of the belt from his and pulled, your face drawing in pain as you nodded.

“Go, go!”

He stops typing, his mouth feeling dry and his hands feeling clammy.

It made him uncomfortable to think that you’d been angry with him even then, that you’d been angry with him for a long time and he hadn’t even realized it. You’d been so brave, squeezing your eyes shut as he and Tab poured sulfa powder on the wound and muffling your cries of discomfort into the palm of his hand as you held it to your mouth.

Dick wondered briefly if you’d ever let him touch you again, even if it were only to save your life.

You meant more to him than he cared to admit or think about. You hating him hadn’t changed that.

When you’d brought up the kiss you two had shared in England, you’d used the past tense- ‘the feelings I had for you’.

Selfishly, Dick supposed that he’d automatically assumed that you were still harboring your affections for him- that you would wait until he felt comfortable enough to share his own feelings of mutual admiration and that things would easily fall into place.

It made him feel stupid. It made him feel foolish.

He wondered if this was how you’d been made to feel after Alderborne.

If so, he had more to apologize than he thought.

Make amends the voice in his head whispered. Do your job and make it better.

He didn’t know what that meant, not really. He didn’t know how to even start.

What he did know? He couldn’t do anything until he finished this report.

So, leaning on his sense of duty, he brought his fingers to the keys and began to clack away.

Dick’s report felt heavy in your hand as you waited for his orderly to alert him to your presence, anxiety churning your stomach like a storming sea. It took far too much effort on your part to maintain your professional facade these days, and judging by the noticeable tremble of the papers in your hand, your mask was starting to crack. Even Sink had made a remark about how on edge you seemed, doubt clear on his face when you tried to brush his concern off as nothing more than homesickness.

You should’ve known better than to try and lie to Robert Sink, he’d known you too well and too long for you to get much past him. It didn’t happen often, but you could swear that there were moments where he looked at you like you were still the messy-haired little girl who played war in the woods with his children after holiday meals- his eager-eyed niece who would climb into his lap and beg for him to recount the far off adventures he’d just returned from.

Now that you’d had a chance to share one of these adventures with him, you wondered if he regretted indulging your fascinations. You doubted he’d ever tell you either way.

That was just the sort of man he was.

Those were the sort of men you now surrounded yourself with.

When you tried to imagine one of your future nieces or nephews crawling into your lap and asking you for stories, you were alarmed by the fact that you had unintentionally imagined Dick sitting by your side.

Before you fully process why that had been where your mind went, Zielinski returned and gave you the go-ahead to enter the office.

You felt an instant shot of relief when you saw that Dick wasn’t alone, the presence of Lewis and Harry calming your frayed nerves significantly. While you knew in your heart that Dick was not a bad person, that he hadn’t done what he did maliciously, you still weren’t sure what to make of your anger towards him.

The moment you step in the doorway, Dick shoots to his feet and for a moment you think he’s about to stand at attention. Briefly, you wonder if Zielinski had accidentally told him to expect Sink coming in- and if the way Harry and Lewis start to confusedly copy his formality, they are just as confused as you are.

But you knew Zielinski hadn’t mentioned Sink. You’d been right next to him when he’d said your name.

That made your face feel hot for a reason you didn’t dare explore right now.

Everyone in the room stands awkwardly and stares at each other for a second, and with a confidence you didn’t truly have you attempt to break the tension.

“Uh- at ease, gentlemen?”

Harry snorts a laugh at that, plopping back down with Nixon following suit. You don't miss the look Nix shoots Dick’s way, but you aren’t able to decipher it. Maybe that was for the best.

“Well, would you look at that?” Harry says with a beaming smile. “Look who’s decided to grace us with her presence this morning.”

You roll your eyes at that, giving Nix a quick nod in greeting before fixing Harry with a look as you walk further into the room.

“Oh Harry, when I decide to grace you with anything you’ll know it.”

He shoots you a wink as Nix huffs a laugh at the interaction.

You can feel Dick’s eyes on you, and when you turn to face him you feel your easy smile tighten and you give him a nod.

“Sir.”

“Y/L/N.”

The air between the two of you is thick with unspoken tension, stained with guilt and frustration and the remnants of affection that made the feeling all the more painful. You could see a similar trepidation on his face, your throat feeling tight as you choke back all of the things you wish you could say.

Lewis, clearly feeling the awkwardness as well but kindly not letting it linger, quickly breaks the silence.

“You want to sit, Y/N? Heard you got shot at the crossroads….”

Dick’s eyes flicker to your leg and then he’s quick to reach over and rip his coat off of the wooden chair to the left of his desk. You sigh a laugh, mumbling a quick ‘thanks’ before carefully lowering yourself into the seat.

“I think I fall somewhere in between shot and grazed, but yes you heard right—”

“Oh yeah!” Harry adds, leaning into the sill of the window as he crosses his arms across his chest. “Lucky you weren’t at CP. heard they got hit pretty bad….”

You feel your mood darken slightly at the reminder of Holly’s death. He was a good man. All of the men who had died that day were good men.

“Yeah,“ you mutter as brightly as you can. “All things considered.”

You clear your throat and look hesitantly at Dick.

“That’s uh, actually what I wanted to talk to you about.”

You hand him the file in your hand and give him a nod of thanks when he comes closer so you don’t have to get up.

“Sink’s hoping he can get you to rewrite the report on that—”

“Oh?” Dick’s pale brows furrow as he looks at the paper to see that it is indeed his report on the crossroads. “Was something wrong with it? Did I miss a signature? Was it too vague—?”

“No, no!” you interrupt, having heard through the grapevine how hard he’d worked on it. “Nothing like that! It’s um, the opposite, actually.....”

Dick frowns at that, and you hesitate for a moment while you try to find the right words to express what Sink needed fixed.

“Sink, um, was hoping you could rewrite some of it. Specifically….” You look down to pick at an imaginary thread on your pant leg. “he needs a report that doesn’t include the fact that I was there—”

You feel his eyes on you, and the room is unbearably quiet as you clear your throat and continue to look anywhere but Dick’s direction. You catch Nix’s gaze, and you can tell he knows what you’re getting at.

“I…” Dick begins, his voice quiet. When you see Harry’s head turn to look in his direction you do the same and catch him looking at Nixon as well. “I’m not sure I understand…”

Harry, never one to stay still for long, chooses this moment to pop to his feet and announce that he’s getting himself some coffee. You all mumble your own acknowledgments to his intention, and he saunters off like a kid who was just told he didn’t have to stay for detention.

When Dick’s eyes fall on you again, you begin to tap your fingers on your thigh nervously.

“Well, I’m still technically just an orderly, at least on paper, so—”

“—So having you injured in the line of duty is a direct violation of your service agreement.” Lewis interrupts, saving you from your tongue-tied stupor. Dick’s frown deepens, and when he looks back at you you nod in confirmation.

“What he said,” you say with a bitter taste in your mouth. “It’s just a minor adjustment, otherwise it’s a perfect report, Dick—”

He holds up a hand, narrowing his eyes as he processes what you and Nixon have just said. Once upon a time, you would’ve found the look on his face endearing and it would’ve made you smile.

But not right now.

“That doesn’t seem right.” he finally settles on, smoothing a hand over his already perfectly combed hair before setting his hands on his narrow hips.

You couldn’t agree more. It wasn’t right.

You’d implied as much to Sink when he’d tasked you with getting Dick to amend the report earlier than morning, a strange embarrassment bringing tears to your eyes at the notion that the simple mention of you ruined an entire report.

Were you such an intolerable figure that by simply being referred to in an official document brought into question the credibility of a successful engagement?

Sink, giving you a look that you recognized from your childhood moments of petulance, had clapped a hand on your shoulder and given it a familiar squeeze.

“It isn’t fair, you’re right about that. I wish I could tell you otherwise, but the powers that be just ain’t ready for someone like you- not yet. Don’t take it to heart. You’re smarter than the lot of ‘em.”

“The terms of my service are pretty clear that I in no way should be anywhere near combat,” you heard yourself parrot hollowly. “Colonel Sink is just trying to keep me from getting sent home—”

“But you were shot.”

The ferocity in his tone surprises you, and when you see him angrily shaking his head from side to side you send Lewis a pleading look.

Taking the cue perfectly, Nix stands up again and clears his throat as he elaborates on your behalf.

“If she’s shot back at CP, that’s one thing. It’s where she’s supposed to be as an orderly. But If she’s shot ‘in the line of duty’, she’s considered an active servicemember- and active service members who get wounded are eligible for a Purple Heart, which would make her a soldier—”

“—and then you’d have the right to a soldier’s pension.” Dick finishes Nixon’s sentence, his jaw working as he looks ruefully at the report in his hands.

Nix snaps and points a finger at him. “Bingo.”

Your frustration from earlier has begun to boil your blood again, and your feet nearly itch with the need to leave the conversation and the suffocating feeling of the office.

As you push yourself up to stand, Dick and Nix move to help you- only stopping at your assurance that you’d got it under control.

Looking back at Dick, you fix him with a look that you hope conveys the importance of what you’re asking.

“I was able to buy you an extra two days, but the sooner Sink gets it the sooner he gets off of your back about it.”

Dick nods, tossing the pages down atop all of the other paperwork on top of the desk.

“Yeah, understood.”

“Hey, Dick—?”

Something in the set of his shoulders gave you pause, and you realize you aren't really sure what else you wanted to say to him.

Sorry I called you a monster? I think I was angrier at myself than anything else? I don’t think you’re a bad person at all, and I am sorry if I made you think that I did?

But you can’t say any of those things- not yet and not with Nix here.

So you settle on another tight smile and a nod.

“Thank you. I know it’s….you’ve got a lot going—”

The strained smile he gives you back tells you that he feels it too, that he knows there is still an ocean of unresolved conflict between the two of you. That he is just as sorry about it as you are.

“Don’t give it another thought. I’ll take care of it.”

With a final nod, you murmur a goodbye to Lewis and leave the office

The moment you are out of earshot Nix smirks like the cat that ate the canary.

“Told you she still liked you.”

“Shut up, Lewis.”

Dick hoped his friend was right.

~ ~ ~

HELLO MY SPECTACULAR STARFISH HERE’S SOME MORE NONSENSE AND FEELINGS FOR YOU TO DIGEST! I TOTALLY MADE UP THE RULES AS TO WHY READER CAN’T BE IN LE REPORT SO PLZ DONT YELL AT ME I’M SENSITIVE OK I LOVE YOU BYYEEE!!!

Taglist: @mrseasycompany @itswormtrain @mrsalwayswrite @happyveday @sunsetmando @teenmagazines @liebgotttme

#band of brothers imagines #band of brothers x reader #dick winters x reader #dick winters imagines

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bookwyrminspiration · 3 years

Text

Shattered Upside Down

A kotlc wings au: masterpost here

Chapter 9: The Little Reminders

word count: 7.1k

chapter summary: Sophie and her friends are in the Lost Cities. The broken down, monster-infested Lost Cities. And they only have a certain amount of time to do everything they need to before something bad shows up. But monsters aren't all that comes to try and get them.

warnings: monsters, blood, implied death (of a character never met or mentioned again, who died a long time ago, it's not as bad as it sounds), arguing with parents, fighting, buildings collapsing, brief medical mention, swearing

taglist: I’ll reblog with it. let me know if you want to be added or removed!

Y'all ready? We're tying in some little details from earlier, so that's fun! Enjoy the chapter! Apologies if formatting is a little weird. Tumblr did a thing so I don't know what it'll look like when I post it!

ao3 link here or read below

It was so quiet a pin drop could’ve shattered the world.

Not that it would’ve made a difference. Colored glass and cracked gems littered the ground, an entire city brought to its knees. Mold and mushrooms crawled painstaking through the cracks, condensation crying down the sides, water marks left in their wake. Building after building as far as one could see was destroyed, damaged, some even reduced entirely to rubble.

Sophie didn’t even want to breathe as they moved, the stench of monsters and rotting flesh and decay permeating the area.

They hadn’t seen anything, not yet. But she knew they were there. Somewhere. Watching. Gauging. They’d entered the monsters’ territory, and now they could only try to do what they needed before those things decided to respond.

Their scent was thick enough Sophie wished she’d remembered to bring that mask she’d had before she’d run away, the same one they’d worn on that damning mission. It was supposed to be the end. They’d bring down the facility and clean up the aftermath and everything would get better.

A bright pink hair ribbon fluttered in a breeze, stuck beneath a cluster of broken crystal on the side of the path. A hand print beside it, frozen in the mud. A small hand print. It was gouged through with claw marks. She didn’t want to know what had happened. She knew.

Where do you think they are? Fitz asked, just to her. She gave him a mental shrug in response. She didn’t want to know. No amount of preparing would be enough for whatever happened.

Part of her, a surprisingly large part, didn’t want her parents to show up. She didn’t want to confront them and explain herself and lie her way through the conversation. And she knew she’d be at the center of it. The Moonlark. Sophie Foster. Always in the middle of things. Not that they were wrong, it was just tiring.

Yet another part of her remained horrified she’d even presented this ultimatum. She could risk herself; she’d had more experience with monsters in the past week than she’d had since everything started. Sure, it wasn’t much. But it was something. One of them even saw her as a...friend.

This group, she didn’t want to risk. But they wouldn’t let her do it alone and they’d planned this out beforehand. They weren't going in with their hands tied. And they could all easily escape, rely on those wings if it came to an emergency.

Maybe they’d even leave them alone again, like that creature in the tree the night they ran.

But their parents? They’d been stuck underground for the last several months. And they weren’t even fighters in the first place. They were painfully elven and she loved them to death. She couldn’t stand being responsible for anything that happened here today.

It was so horribly cruel of Sophie to have picked this place, to have given them so little choice. The place was infested. The stench made her eyes water, rips and tears marks littered the buildings everywhere you looked.

Something darted through her peripheral and she flinched. The creatures knew they were here. They just hadn’t attacked. Maybe they’d gotten lucky, were in a part of the city with some of the more docile ones, although all of them were threatening.

Let's get a head start. So they don’t catch us off guard. It seemed forbidden, intrusive to speak aloud. Like there was this careful illusion held together by the silence. None of them were willing to break it.

The others nodded, breaking into two groups.

Sophie, Linh, Biana, and Wylie in one; Dex, Tam, Maruca, Marella, Fitz, and Keefe in the other. Those that could hide the wings, and those that couldn’t. And Dex, who was going to grab some supplies.

Sophie pulled her cloak closer, checking it was secured as a breeze passed by. The wings buzzed in response, the open sky beckoning her. She’d have to be extra careful they didn’t make a noise if their parents showed up.

Wylie nudged her, raising his brows in question.

Right. She was supposed to find them. Track them. She was the telepath of their group.

Everyone reeked of anxiety, muscles tensed as she leaned back against a nearby building for stability, raising her fingers to her temples.

Starting with a blanket sweep, she scanned the nearby area, searching for any presence she could find. The wave spread from her like an explosion, rocketing outwith her at the center. She could feel Fitz stumble, perking up as the wave washed over him, faintly hearing someone ask him what happened. She didn’t bother to hear the reply.

There were pockmarks scattered throughout, empty holes moving within the web she wove. Monsters. Since that day in the facility she’d learned what they felt like, the hollow space they left behind. Like looking for a blind spot. They were...everywhere. But none attacked.

Reaching further, she kept scanning, about to give up.

Someone smelling of cherry blossoms placed their hand down on her shoulder, shaking her slightly. Sophie jerked, inhaling deeply, keeling forward and nearly toppling over if it weren’t for that hand.

Not here yet, she whispered, trying to reorient herself. The sudden change from concentration back to reality had been jarring--unintentional on Biana’s part, but a large stressor nonetheless.

Move!! Biana hissed in her mind, pulling Sophie along.

Oh.

Her mind lagged a moment behind as she was dragged, shaking her head to try and comprehend the enormous, gaping shadow that had fallen over their group.

She covered her mouth to try and slow her breathing as they ducked around a corner.

Biana hadn’t shaken her awake out of impatience or question. She’d jarred her into reality to escape.

Now that she was aware of it, the pungent odor of breath and smoke coated her tongue. Just how distracted had she been? How far out had her mind been reaching that she didn’t even notice the thing right beside her?

It’s claws made a horrid screeching sound against the crystal as it moved, talons sinking into the wall several feet above where they’d just been, its enormous barbed tail swinging lazily, thwacking into that very spot she’d been leaning against, leaving cracks and scratches all down the side.

C’mon, Linh called, gesturing from where she was tucked away on the other side of the road. Let’s get away from here.

There was no way they could get past that tail, sporadically swinging around and blocking that path to the rest of their group. Goddamnit. How had they gotten separated so quickly?

“There’s no way we’re getting through there,” Biana groaned oh so quietly, speaking Sophie’s thoughts aloud, shaking out her hands, trying to dispel the nerves.

Sophie absentmindedly nodded in agreement, surveying the area, looking for the least dangerous, quickest path. She didn’t even need a destination, just away. Biana’s fingers closed around her wrist, drawing energy from her skin as they both sporadically faded in and out of view. Huh. When had Biana grown so powerful?

The thing shifted its weight, tail thunking around and sinking into the wall, using it as leverage to crawl further up the building, staining it red wherever its skin grated against the crystal.

Wait.

Now, Sophie urged, pulling them both back. Use this moment. Take advantage of every single second you’re granted and wring every inch of progress you can from it. With the tail momentarily occupied, you’d think she’d go forward. Dart through the danger and emerge victorious.

No. Sophie Foster didn’t like to do things the way people expected her to. It made her eyelashes itch.

She whirled around, Biana attached to her wrist. They’d backed themselves into a corner, but just how far back would this corner go? What would it give them if only they had the keen insight to ask?

Its eyes made contact with hers and its mouth dropped open just as they turned their backs, the sound of the ground trembling behind them as it dropped itself down, starting the hunt.

Rock slammed against the soles of their shoes as they stumbled through the rubble, tripping over colored pebbles and ducking under collapsed pillars, buildings rising on either side of them like they were trapped in a maze with no end. No solution.

Growls and screeching claws echoed around them, and she knew they were surrounded. She couldn’t see them but she knew.

They’d caused a commotion and now everyone was coming to see what all the fuss was about.

Cursing, they rounded a corner only to come to a screeching stop, a mound of crystal pieces blocking their path. Turning, they looked over their shoulders.

Something skidded down the side of the building, the narrow gap between walls, claws scratching as it descended, something unpleasant in its eye. It’s mouth gaped, no teeth in sight but a hissing noise emerged nonetheless. It was large enough it nearly didn't fit in the space, but it contorted and slithered and narrowed its gaze onto her, mouth falling open with a mechanical click.

Well, fuck. It’s too early for that. The morning chill hadn’t even dispersed yet.

Both their heartbeats hammered in their chest, adrenaline surging as she realized this one was very much not friendly, it wouldn’t even try to be. Leave leave leave leave leave she needed to get out. They needed to go somewhere anywhere else.

Where are you going? Linh asked, somewhere from beside Wylie. It seemed Biana and Sophie were the only ones in danger. Great. The others didn’t even know they were being hunted, stalked, tracked, assessed.

Um. Good question, she responded. I’ll let you know when we figure that out. Biana glanced at her sidelong, seeming to realize Sophie actually didn’t have a plan and groaning. Then grinned, laughing with her hand over her mouth to stifle the sound as she threw herself into their escape.

They turned on their heels, putting their backs to this new monster once more, and ran. On hands and knees, rocks and pebbles shifting uneasily beneath them as they climbed over the pile.

Their cloaks with the chaotic movement and Sophie caught a single glimpse of the vibrant orange against Biana’s back before she was bumping into a corner and moving again.

It crashed into something behind them, the haphazard destruction providing a dangerous terrain it couldn’t quite navigate. Good. Good. This was good.

Run. Jump. Avoid. Disappear.

It roared behind them, screeching in pain as something heavy crashed down. Maybe it’d gotten caught on a building. Good. That was good, right?

Sunlight shone through the gaps between buildings, spastic as they channeled extra power into their legs, dashing darting dancing through the destruction until she saw an opening, looked up and remembered that flash of orange and realized she was not burdened to the ground and she grabbed Biana’s hand.

“JUMP,” she screamed, her voice echoing through the walls and reverberating back to her against the crystal.

They jumped, pushing all that channeled strength into their legs and leaping higher higher higher until they crested the walls and could see for miles for everywhere for eternity.

And they caught themselves.

Those wings snapped out, flinging themselves from beneath the cloaks and smoothing their descent. She blinked and that film dropped over her eyes.

Biana moved jerkily yet somehow smooth in the sky, letting go of Sophie’s hand as she flitted to and fro, movements that would’ve made Sophie undeniably nauseous.

It took her only a moment to locate the others, to find Wylie’s exasperation and Linh’s concern. To change course and point Biana in the right direction and swan dive down, curving around crumbling spires and rods.

Risking a glance backwards, she couldn’t locate that creature, it seemingly lost within that maze of buildings and halls and paths that would’ve trapped them too had the sky not beckoned so loud.

Clear. They were in the clear. It was behind them. They were fine.

Vaguely, she could see the other group in the distance, the rest of their friends pointing and waving as they watched them soar in slowly descending circles, growing ever closer to the ground. They’d gone off to find Dex’s supplies, just perusing through the city. It’d take several people to get everything he needed, maybe even more than one trip.

Biana began lowering herself, but Sophie couldn’t help but linger in the sky just a few moments longer, taking in the destruction. Reminding herself of everything they were fighting for, why she needed to step out of her own skin and remember all the people she’d left behind.

She shouldn’t have.

Something glimmered off in the distance, only visible with this new eyesight from this vantage point, but she dropped like a stone.

The void let her through, jumping between places and glitching through the air like she had when she’d grabbed Marella, falling atop Biana in the sky and wrapping her arms around her, jerking them through the void and onto the ground, sprawling a few feet away from the rest of their group.

Shit.

Biana sat up, shaking herself off and covering her wings, drawing that cloak close. Everyone’s hearts were hammering, echoing in her ears as her throat went dry.

Sophie got to her feet, bracing her hands on the back of her neck. She couldn’t dare speak it out loud, didn’t know what was still listening. If that creature had truly gotten itself caught or if it was just waiting to continue the chase. She didn't want to bother with it, just thinking it a minor nuisance as the real shit came to fruition.

Huh. Her world had devolved into such chaos that a monster chase was just a brief interruption, nothing to be thought over.

She shook her hands out, Wylie reaching down to help Biana to her feet.

There was no use putting it off any longer, so she spoke into the entire mindbubble. They’re here.

Sophie couldn’t pull her wings close enough; they were so conformed to the shape of her body she worried they’d bend that way permanently. But still, she wanted them closer. She’d buttoned up the front of her cloak, prepared her lies, but it wasn’t enough. Nothing would ever be enough.

She scratched at her arms to try and distract herself, but that just pulled at her damaged skin, leaving lacerations and blood stains behind. She really should’ve wrapped them. Why hadn’t she wrapped herself up? That’s what she’d gone with Tam to get.

Linh's skin was covered in bandages, her legs and arms tightly bound. It hid some of the incandescence, and in the morning light she almost looked completely normal. Sophie should’ve done the same to herself. She’d gotten so distracted she hadn’t even thought to, and none of the others had remembered to remind her.

Strange. Usually they were so on top of her injuries. It was...unsettling to imagine why they weren’t this time. Not that--not that she wanted them to focus on her. She just--

“Is everyone prepared?” Wylie’s voice was so loud in this silence it made her physically jump, taking all of her energy to keep the wings from shooting out in fear, giving herself away. She did get some impressive height, though.

“Nope. Let’s do this anyway.” If they didn’t do this now, didn't confront their parents and convince them to stop trying to find them, they’d just have to do it again later.

They were fine for now. They were relatively safe and unharmed. Their injuries were from themselves, not the forest. The forest. The forest only she had access to.

If you can, grab the stuff to make a temporary crystal or find a pathfinder of some kind, she sent out to everyone. So you don’t have to rely on me.

Nice try, Foster. I like relying on you. But yeah we’ll look.

She rolled her eyes. Of course he was joking. He knew she was anxious and the little fucker was trying to make her feel better. And it was fucking working. She scowled.

Alright. Now or never. Do or die.

Live with it.

Sophie couldn’t see through the tears falling from her lashes, the wet getting caught up in those films. The world was made of fragments and smears and it was all she could do to hold herself together as she saw her father climbing over a mound of rubble.

Grady. Dad.

There were others beside him, an entire group who had come out to try and get them back, but she couldn’t stop herself from desperately reaching out one last time. She saw him and her legs were moving moving moving and she just had to get to him to let him hold her to feel him alive beneath her fingertips.

He was moving too, eyes widening as he sprinted forward and then he was right there and his arms wrapped around her and held on so so tight and his chin rested on her head and her face was buried in his chest and he smelled like soap and feathers and warmth and home.

She’d missed this so much.

“Hey, kiddo,” he whispered against her hair, the braids she’d woven them into on the walk over, trying to tame the mess. She’d have to do that when flying. They rocked back and forth, just holding holding holding each other.

She’d missed this.

Eventually, he stepped back a bit, holding her out by the shoulders and looking her over, gnawing at his lip as he saw all the blisters, the lacerations, the burns. The scratches.

It’d been a rough couple of days.

“Are you okay?” he asked, bringing her in close again, this time oh so gentle. Like he was afraid one wrong move would tear her apart.

She just shrugged; she couldn’t get her throat to work. She exhaled, the breath shaky and uncontrolled, wiping at her eyes to try and compose herself. She didn’t even know who else was here. Did she care?

Sophie stepped back, but Grady reached up to pat the top of her head, smoothing down her hair. She leaned into the touch. She’d missed this.

He stepped to the side when he saw her leaning to try and see around him, glancing around the area now that she was here and there was something to protect.

There were so many people. Any number was many. She didn’t know why she thought she could do this. She could do this.

Taking a deep breath, she counted who’d come.

Ro and Sandor--Sandor--stood on either side of the group, weapons out and noses lifted to the wind. Protection. Della was wrapped around Biana, fussing over her and feeling the bandages on her arm. A pang of guilt hit her, but she pressed it aside. Mr. Forkle stood beside Wylie, the two of them in some sort of discussion she hadn’t expected. Elwin had rushed to Linh just beside Wylie, and was now carefully lowering her to the ground, Juline giving a helping hand.

Juline. She looked up, making eye-contact with Sophie, holding it.

“Everyone else is in a different part of the city,” she said, clearing her throat. “But they’re fine. They’re okay. Well--” she cut off, eyes glazing over as she reached out to Fitz.

Grady’s hand tightened on her shoulder, but the sensation faded as her mind reached away from her body.

I’ve...they’re here. She said, unsure how else to put it. Are you all doing alright?

It took him a moment to respond. Yup. Just a little--shit. Just a lot of unwieldy things. I just dropped something. Dex seems to be having the time of his life, though. None of it makes sense to me.

Okay. Reach out if you need anything. Or just to interrupt...because this conversation isn't going to be fun.

He laughed slightly, hollow. Yeah. I definitely don't envy you right now.

Wait, have you envied me before?

Good question.

She waited for him to answer it, but it was silent on his end. Well you can’t just--

Take care, Sophie. I love you.

He severed their connection.

“--Sophie?” Someone was shaking her--Grady. That was Grady. His hand was on her shoulder and he was shaking her back into her body.

“Mmm. Yup. That’s me,” she slurred, shaking her head slightly to regain her stability, to ground herself. She rubbed at her eyes, Fitz’s words echoing in her mind. I love you.

She wanted to say it back. Why hadn’t he given her the chance to say it back?

Sophie found Juline once more, directing her words in that general area but addressing the whole group. “Yeah, they’re all fine.”

“Tell them to come here, please.” Ah. Okay. Right into it, then.

She shook her head. “They’re busy.”

Sandor stepped forward, fist tightening on the hilt of his blade. “They can un-busy themselves for this.”

Wylie took it for her, and she nearly leapt forward to hug him right there and then, but it didn’t seem like the right time. She didn’t want to be the only one they addressed.

“Unfortunately, they cannot. But anything you need to tell them you can tell us and we’ll relay the information.” He crossed his arms, glancing towards her as if in question.

She inclined her head slightly. Yes, it was okay that he stepped in.

“We’ll need all of you in one place for this,” Sandor said, and Sophie’s stomach dropped.

“We’re not going back.”

Grady’s hand tightened on her shoulder, flexing as if he wanted to pull her closer and just leap away with her. But they were separated. If they stole the four of them away now, they’d never find the other six.

She hated that they had to strategize like this.

“Look,” Ro began, pointing a dagger at her to emphasize her point. “I don’t know what kind of idiocy has infected your group, but you can’t be up here. You and your little fucked up elf brains have to come back with us, to the underground. And we’ll take you by force if necessary.” Everyone flinched, Juline frowning at her like they’d had an agreement beforehand, a plan, and Ro had gone completely off the rails.

Sophie just shook her head. “No. We’re here to see you. To let you know everyone’s okay, and that you don’t need to worry.” Ro rolled her eyes, and Sophie was tempted to flip her off. “But we are not going back, and that is final.”

“This absolutely is not final, kiddo.” Grady contradicted, turning her around slightly to face him. The movement sent her cape swirling and for a moment she thought the wings would become visible, but they remained hidden. Thank fuck.

This would never end. They’d only go round and round and round in circles and neither would ever concede and their parents would never understand why. They’d just sit here until--

“While we’re...discussing that, how about you sit down and let me look over you, that sound good?” Elwin waved her over from where he sat beside Linh, whose bandages had been peeled back. Biana sat by Linh’s side, looking over fresh, better wrapped bandages over her cuts. He must’ve gotten to work on the two of them while Sophie had been talking with Fitz. Right. His little farewell would haunt her the moment she had time to think...which didn’t seem to be anytime soon.

She nodded, walking over and placing herself beside Linh, bumping her arm with her elbow in greeting. Linh bumped right back into her, smiling as she winced. Something about this light made her look almost normal. She wondered why no one else had commented or asked about the patterns on her skin. Could they even see them?

He inhaled, sucking the air in through clenched teeth. “I bet you two were exposed to the same thing, huh?” He asked, gently pulling Sophie’s arm and inspecting the peeling skin.

“Yep,” she answered, unsure how much Linh had already said.

He doesn’t know it was Marella, she whispered into Sophie’s mind.

What did you tell him?

Run in with a weird creature and a stray explosive? Sorry, I was thinking on the spot.

Sophie nodded. She could work with that story.

“I’d tell you to be more careful around fires and those kinds of things, but I don’t think you know how,” he teased, but his frown didn’t fade as he gently observed the visible skin, pulling serums and creams and bandages from his bag. “I guess that’s why you specifically requested I come.” Sophie nodded, then realized she should probably say something.

She cleared her throat. “You don’t know that. Maybe we just missed you.”

He laughed, gently rubbing a thin layer of something over her arm before covering it with a light gauze. She sighed with relief, leaning against Linh. She hadn’t realized how much pain she’d been in until she felt the cooling effect of the balm.

Both Sophie and Linh were given several elixirs, luckily none too soured or rotten. Biana;s injuries were light enough that she only took a pain reliever.

Unfortunately, the brief peace couldn’t last. The adults seemed content to just keep watch, the scent of sweat and anxiety overwhelming as they surveyed the area, eyed the tree line, the mounds of rubble, just long enough for Elwin to do the basics of what he needed.

Probably because they expected him to be able to continue the treatment once they’d gotten to the underground.

They didn’t seem to understand that they were not coming back.

She wanted to. She didn’t want to leave.

Mr. Forkle approached her on the ground, offering her a hand to help her stand. The gauze across her palm rubbed strangely as he hoisted her to her feet, the sensation off-putting enough that she shook it out slightly as she found her balance.

Linh tugged at her cloak as she stood, readjusting it so it sat against the wings properly, hiding them. Elwin had tried to get her to take it off, but she’d refused. Told him to just do what he could see right now and worry about the rest later.

He’d also told them all he’d want to look at their backs, see what had happened after he’d left them for a short time and returned to find them gone.

He’d told them he’d forgive them if they apologized for scaring the shit out of him, that they didn’t have to do it now. They could deal with all of that later.

There wouldn’t be a later. She just had to convince them to let them all go.

They’d never agree to let them all go. This was an impossible task, doomed to fail from the start.

“You kids just love getting in trouble, don’t you?” He asked, stepping back to let the others come forward. The groups condensed, kids (and Wylie) across from the adults, the line seemingly already drawn.

She shrugged. “That tends to happen when you give children the responsibility of fixing a broken world.”

Linh winced, but this time it wasn’t from her injuries.

“That responsibility was meant to be shared and eased with the help of the Black Swan, help we cannot provide with you as runaways.”

Sophie rolled her eyes. “No. You’re still part of the problem. You weren’t helping anyone, certainly not us.” Oh. Okay. She was doing this now.

“We know you think our ways are too traditional, that we’re not making progress--”

“No. Let me talk.” She held up a hand, silencing them. She’d let them silence her into submission when she’d burned down that storehouse; she wouldn’t let them do it again. “The first time the Neverseen were defeated, how did that happen? Us. We--my friends and I--took the fight to them. We didn’t sit at home waiting for approval from the council, waiting to fight ‘legally.’ There was a problem. A problem that got people killed. And you’d been fighting for decades and got nowhere until I tracked Gisela across the globe and found her myself. Until Dex hacked their trackers and trailed them. Until Biana infiltrated their base on her own to plant bugs and get us intel.”

They looked like they wanted to stop her, but she pressed on. “Your complacency has gotten you nowhere, and I am not at all sorry to be fighting to get results. The Neverseen were gone. My friends brought them to their knees, and you said you’d support us, take it from there and pick up the pieces. Well, guess what? Those pieces scattered in the wind because they weren’t properly disposed of and now they're out in the world, causing even more trouble than we ever could have imagined. You didn’t do your part, so I don’t trust you to support us now. You’ll have to earn that back, and if this”--she gestured to their little group, the people they’d sent to try and convince them all to come back, to tug at their hearts and play into their guilt--”is any indication, you are only getting further and further away from that.”

She crossed her arms, trying to keep herself in check. She hadn’t even known she’d had all that bubbling beneath her skin, but now that she’d open that part of herself she could feel it frothing, foaming to escape. There were so many ways she’d been disappointed, so many mistakes people had consciously made, it felt like her veins would burst.

Ro’s mouth had fallen open, torn between anger at her stubbornness to come back and loving Sophie’s disregard for those in charge, the disobedience.

Biana glanced at her out of the corner of her eye, raising a brow in question. Sophie nodded, imperceptible. They needed someone to cool the situation down, someone good in social situations.

Juline opened her mouth to respond but Biana cut her off, stepping forward. She was never afraid to be blunt and Sophie loved that about her.

She smoothed out her clothes, her scars on full display. “You seem to misunderstand why we’re here. We left abruptly, we know. It was necessary. Now that things have calmed down, we agreed to see you again--to give you some peace of mind. To let you know we’re okay in person. Not just the four of us, all ten.

“We didn’t come here to debate returning. We’re not coming back, not right now. So stop trying to convince us, and don’t try to justify your actions against valid criticism.”

There was silence for a moment, then Della spoke.

“You’re not safe out here,” she said. Smart. Begin the conversation with an indisputable fact in their favor. But Sophie could do that too.

“We’re not safe anywhere.”

Sandor sighed, but it sounded more like a growl, not even looking at her, still scanning the perimeter. They were fairly out in the open; for some reason, they hadn’t moved to better ground.

“You’ll be much safer where we, your bodyguards”--he gestured to himself and Ro--”can see you and protect you. That’s what we’re here for. This is a massive nest of monsters; we’re lucky we haven’t been attacked yet. This is a mess.” He gestured around the area, the cracked crystal and claw marks.

He was right. Which was why they needed to end this quickly. Get them out before they were hurt. She needed to go somewhere else, to cool off. She could feel Linh and Wylie’s eyes on her, wondering if she’d explode at their parents like she’d done with Biana.

Sophie nodded in agreement. She was nodding a lot during this conversation. “You’re very good bodyguards, but we’re staying up here. Besides, our location isn’t here.”

“Then tell us where you are,” Juline cut in, a hint of panic in her voice. Glad to see the four of them safe, but none of them the person she’d specifically come for. And she didn’t know it, but that one person’s body wasn’t working the way it should.

Combined with her outburst, the realization that they were completely out of power in this situation was settling in. She could read it in their widening eyes, the shifts in their stances, like they were rearranging themselves.

“We can’t. We literally can’t.”

“Please, Sophie--” Grady began, running his hands through his hair in frustration, looking like he wanted to grab her and shake some sense into her, but he froze.

They all did.

Because they all heard it.

A horrendous screeching noise, like metal grating against metal. Or claws against the ground.

SOPHIE. GET OUT OF THERE. Fitz’s voice pounded into her mind, panic and terror following.

What? Why?

MONSTER!

“Move,” she hissed, shoving Linh to the side, noting Biana dragging Wylie the other way. Away. They had to get away.

She looked over her shoulder, seeing their group scramble, glancing around frantically, trying to find where the noise had come from. Sophie hadn’t bothered to figure it out, just moving away.

Something crashed to the ground, a great plume of smoke and dust arising from the area, whipped around by a sudden wind, like something was beating its wings. It must’ve been a tower, building, the sound so horrendous she stumbled, hands pressed to her ears as it ripped through her.

Wylie was panting on the ground across from her, eyes closed as his hands covered his ears.

The building took eternity to fall, seconds of time dripping past like a deluge, one after another until she couldn’t tell the difference and someone was screaming her name or maybe that was just the ringing in her ears but something was coming coming coming it was after them they’d overstayed their welcome and everything was crashing apart around her.

Think, Foster, she reminded herself.

Next step. Find the others. Find everyone.

The few precious seconds it took her to gather herself enough to reach for her temples were too many. She was out of time.

“I said MOVE!” Fitz was yelling at her, sprinting from a nearby alley, a pathway through the mess. He was moving lopsided, his limp aggravated by whatever the physical labor had done to his knee. Oh.

That’s why he’d warned her.

His group was heading their way, a monster in tow, screaming at them to get out.

The other six were close behind, Keefe darting around corners, Dex leaping into the air with channelling. Marella’s hands were glowing, Tam’s fingernails stained black.

Their cloaks fastened tight but something something something still looked off if you were focusing. No one was focusing on them.

They were occupied with something else.

It screamed.

Sophie stood there, frozen, as it crawled over a mound of rubble, jerking and frantic, several eyes littered over its body, claws digging into the crystal as all its sight narrowed in.

On the other group.

Where her father was.

“NO!” She didn’t know who said it, who screamed. But her throat stung and her body was trying to move without her permission.

“Dex,” Juline yelled, a strange relief washing over her face as she saw him, quickly vanishing as the creature tumbled forward. It moved so inhumanly quick, limbs upon limbs emerging and cycling as it danced uncontrolled toward their vulnerable parents.

Ro had drawn her sword, a maniacal grin slicing her face as she laughed, widening her stance.

No no no nonono. She couldn’t kill it. She didn’t stand a chance and she’d go down trying and it would be all Sophie’s fault because she’d frozen and wasn’t doing anything when if anyone deserved to pay it was her.

Grady’s face had hardened, a weapon in his hand she didn’t recognize pulled from somewhere as he stood back, eyes on that charging creature when his face went slack and he whirled, another one emerging from behind.

She couldn’t get to him, an eternity between them, rocks and debris and a wall of hurt throwing them further and further apart with each step she took forward. Linh was tugging at her arm, Maruca at her other. Trying to get her away.

It was impossible to fix this. They’d doomed themselves from the start.

He was still wildly searching the area, searching for her.

They made eye contact, his face softening as he saw her, saw how far she was. That she could still get away, wasn’t being directly attacked.

“No,” she whispered, watching him turn away, steel settling over his skin. A calm acceptance

No.

She wouldn’t do this, wouldn’t watch him die.

Sophie lunged forward, breaking from her friends’ grasps with that new ease,

and

she

glitched.

She was dancing through time and space, here and there and everywhere in a single instant. There was no distance too far, nothing she couldn’t be in this one moment in time. This one moment that she’d make last an eternity. This world was hers to command.

She appeared, just at his side, shoving him away, letting that prowling creature descend on her instead, sinking its teeth into the skin of her shoulder, ripping through fabric and darting away.

She didn’t care. She didn’t care at all. Because Grady was fine just a few feet away. He was fine. That’s all that mattered.

His eyes widened as he watched her, trying to stand amongst all this chaos and rubble, and she didn’t understand didn't understand the fear, the pain in his eyes. The screams and gasps echoing behind her, the way the world seemed to pause for a moment.

Not until she saw the tattered remains of her cloak fall to the ground.

“Go home,” she whispered, backing away from him. “Go back. It’s not safe up here.”

He wasn’t moving, he wasn’t talking; no one was.

But the creatures were still screaming, eyes condensing and coalescing, observing her and the people around her.

“Get them out of here, Sophie” Maruca screamed, force-fields flickering into place around the creatures, caging them in. But she wasn’t steady on her feet. Why hadn’t she raised the shields earlier? Maruca nearly fell, her hold flickering. She was buying Sophie a few seconds, but that was all she could give. Who knew what she'd given already.

Sohie steeled her nerves, letting the wings buzz behind her, keeping the attention. Let them see her, let them focus on her and not notice the things on her friends backs too.

“I’m sorry,” was all she said, darting forward faster than Grady’s eyes could understand, glitching the two of them just a little bit away, beside Della. She grabbed the two of them, and vanished.

The clearing was just as she remembered it. The crystal grate sat crooked on the ground, the trees around as menacing and uninviting as ever. Last time she’d been here it was raining.

It was supposed to be the last time.

She let go of the two of them, ripping through the void back to the Lost Cities. Another two. Juline and Elwin. She brought them back.

Went back and forth until they were all back, all away, all safe. Safer, at least.

“Sophie, wait--” Grady was reaching for her. He scrambled for his pocket, telling her they'd just come back. She couldn’t leave, she had to stay. Let the adults go back and handle it.

She twirled the pathfinder through her fingers, listened as he fell silent.

It’d been right there in easy reach when she’d grabbed him. So she’d taken it. They’d needed one, and taking it from him kept them from coming back. At least for a little bit.

He was reaching for her.

She didn’t look back.

She vanished.

The shields fell just as Sophie arrived. There were monsters loose in the Lost Cities, chasing her and her friends. She didn’t care.

The world had ended years ago.

Nothing. That’s what she felt.

Everything was numb. The echoing screams of the creatures, the grating of their claws against the ground, the sweat and fear of her friends. None of it registered. It would hit her later, she knew, but not now. Not yet.

Sophie dug her nails into her scalp, watching the creatures explode out of their containment, finally set free. They laughed, animalistic, bodies thrashing rhythmically as they slithered forward.

Apparently physics didn’t matter anymore.

Thoughts and plans filtered through her mind, the mindbubble alight with chaos. She tuned it out, just watching from the center of it all. The eye of the storm.

Someone was in the sky, unused to flying but moving with enough precision she knew they’d done it before.

One of the creatures locked eyes with her, maw falling open with a haphazard grin. A mechanical creak came from it’s neck as it twitched.

It scrambled forward, close to the ground, crossing the clearing in just a few short moments.

She didn’t care.

It was going to tear her to pieces.

She didn’t care.

The ground rumbled, trembling and bucking and weaving into new positions, throwing them all the ground, the scent of thunder and terror rolling over her, knees buckling beneath her.

The stench hit her first, the watered down rot, a dying perfume of withered roses and rotten fruit. Cloyingly sweet, deceptively undead. Her eyes began to water, like she’d been physically hit. She couldn’t see through the tears, but she didn’t need to.

It made itself known.

Dark and decay seemed to slip through the cracks of the stone, falling upwards like unnatural rain.

It crushed that creature beneath its gargantuan paw, cracked and molten.

It was right in front of her.

She looked at it and it looked back, nearly four times the size of the thing it’d just killed like it was nothing.

Monsters vs monster. It’s eyes glowed a deep gold, dripping down the midnight blue of its face, its body vaguely bear shaped.

It looked away, charging towards those other monsters, the movement accompanied by a jingle.

There was a collar around its neck, tags clanging against each other as it moved, killing--destroying--each of those creatures her friends ran from one by one.

An intelligence lingered behind its eyes, its movements. This was...even more unsettling than the creatures, than the destruction littered around her.

It blinked at her like it knew her.

Sophie forced herself to her feet, to take in absolutely everything she could about this thing before it vanished. It could be the difference between life and death.

It lowered it’s head to the ground, and

her

heart

stopped.

Behind it’s head, hidden by the whorls of curls decorating its stocky body, was a little girl sat atop it.

A little girl in a chaotic, elaborate gown, something human’s thought princesses would wear, frizzy red hair tangled around her face.

The little girl she’d seen in the facility.

#thank you to pyro for inspiring part of where this chapter went #he's incredible and I love him lots /p #anyways...how we feeing?#that was a lot #i'm not sorry though :)#come back in two weeks to figure out what the hell happens next #okay but thoughts?#this one was a lot of fun for me so I'm curious if it was for you too #kotlc #keeper of the lost cities #kotlc fic #kotlc fanfic #kotlc chaptered fic #shattered upside down #shattered upside down chapter #kotlc wings au #quil's quill

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wiypt-writes · 3 years

Text

Stark Spangled Banner

Ch 14: Nothing Personal

Summary: Steve confronts Fury about the Lemurian Star mission and the Director reveals just exactly what it is he’s been working on. However, when Fury is later gunned down in Steve’s apartment right in front of the Captain and Katie, the two are forced to run from the very people they’ve called colleagues and friends for years.

Pairing: Steve Rogers x OFC Katie Stark

Warnings: Language! Violence.

A/N: I love this edit from @angrybirdcr

Disclaimer: This is a pure work of fiction and classified as 18+. Please respect this and do not read if you are underage. I do not own any characters in this series bar Katie Stark and the other OCs. By reading beyond this point you understand and accept the terms of this disclaimer.

Chapter 13

Stark Spangled Banner Masterlist // Main Masterlist

“You just can’t stop yourself from lying, can you?” Steve seethed as he crossed the floor of Fury’s office.

Nick didn’t even need to ask him what he was talking about. Without turning round the Director spoke calmly. “I didn’t lie. Agent Romanoff had a different mission than yours.”

“Which you didn’t feel obliged to share” Steve pressed, raising an eyebrow as the Director spun in his chair to face him.

“I’m not obliged to do anything” Fury replied simply, looking at him.

“Those hostages could’ve died, Nick.” Steve pressed, holding the man’s gaze.

“I sent the greatest soldier in history to make sure that didn’t happen.” Fury stated, and Steve could feel his temper rising even more. He hated the blasé attitude the Director was discussing the issue with, like it was simply something he wasn’t all that bothered about.

“Soldiers trust each other, that’s what makes it an army.” He said after a short pause. “Not a bunch of guys running around and shooting guns.”

He wasn’t expecting the response he got. Fury leaned forward, frowning as he levelled Steve with a look.

“The last time I trusted someone, I lost an eye.” Fury spoke, his tone steely. Steve cocked his head to one side, crossing his arms but maintaining his silence. “Look, I didn’t want you doing anything you weren’t comfortable with. Agent Romanoff is comfortable with everything.”

“I can’t lead a mission when the people I’m leading have missions of their own.” Steve pointed down at Fury’s desk, stressing his point.

“It’s called compartmentalization” Fury eyed him. “Nobody spills the secrets because nobody knows them all.” Steve snorted silently and gestured at Fury. “Except you.” Fury took a deep breath and levelled Steve with a look. “You’re wrong about me. I do share. I’m nice like that.” Steve frowned as Fury stood up and motioned for him to follow.

“Where are we going?” Steve’s frustration was evident on his tone.

“You’ll see.” Fury stepped inside the elevator. Steve followed. “Insight bay.”

A photo of Nick’s SHIELD ID flashed up on the screen, surrounded by a green light. Then Steve noticed his, but the light was red as the SHIELD computer spoke. “Captain Rogers does not have clearance for Project Insight.”

“Director override, Fury, Nicholas J.” Fury spoke, without missing a beat.

“Confirmed.”

The elevator started to moved downwards. Steve leaned against the rail which ran round the middle of the glass box and clasped his hands in front of him by his belt. Despite his initial annoyance, he had found himself beginning to understand what the Director was saying. SHIELD had so many secrets, many a matter of national security. It made no sense for everyone to know everything, it was a security risk, he got that. But it still irked him.

“You know, they used to play music.” Steve said, his tone softer as he broke the silence, making a joke at his own expense.

“Yeah. My grandfather operated one of these things for forty years.” Fury mused, somewhat nostalgic. “My granddad worked in a nice building, he got good tips. He’d walk home every night, roll of ones stuffed in his lunch bag. He’d say ‘hi’, people would say hi back. Time went on, neighbourhood got rougher. He’d say ‘hi’ they’d say, ‘Keep on steppin’. Granddad got to grippin’ that lunch bag a little tighter.”

The flash into Fury’s personal life surprised Steve somewhat. He cocked his head to one side and looked at the man. “Did he ever get mugged?”

“Every week some punk would say, “What’s in the bag?”

“What did he do?”

“He’d show ‘em. Bunch of crumpled ones and loaded point twenty-two Magnum.” Fury smirked “Granddad loved people. But he didn’t trust them very much.”

Steve had to smirk slightly, thinking that Fury sounded a hell of a lot like his grandpa. He looked down for a second, and when he looked up he was aware that they had now travelled down the side of the Triskellion and were descending further, underground even. As Steve looked around he realised he was in some sort of below building hangar, and he looked out of the glass, spotting three giant Helicarriers. His mouth fell open in surprise, his brow furrowing.

“Yeah, I know. They’re a little bit bigger than a point twenty-two.” Fury remarked.

Eventually the elevator stopped and Fury stepped out, Steve hot on his tail as he watched people bustling around the hangar shouting, carrying things, fixing things. The helicarriers were bigger than the one they’d used during the Chitauri invasion, each being able to house at least twenty Quinjets.

“This is Project Insight.” Fury explained as he led Steve across the floor of the hangar. “Three next generation Helicarriers synced to a network of targeting satellites.”

And then Steve understood. “Launched from the Lemurian Star.”

“Once we get them in the air they never need to come down. Continuous suborbital flight courtesy of our new repulsor engines.” Fury stopped underneath one.

“Stark?” Steve asked, frowning.

“Well, he had a few suggestions once he got an up close look at our old turbines.” Fury nodded, as they continued. “But don’t worry, that’s not something Nova is keeping from you.”

“I wasn’t” Steve said honestly, as he looked up and around the hangar. “I trust my girl.”

Fury looked at him before he turned his attention back to the matter in hand and pointed up again “These new long range precision guns can eliminate a thousand hostiles a minute. The satellites can read a terrorist’s DNA before he steps outside his spidy hole. We gonna neutralize a lot of threats before they even happen.”

Steve crossed his arms. “I thought the punishment usually came after the crime.”

“We can’t afford to wait that long.”

Steve could feel the nerve twitching in his jaw. “Who’s ‘we’?”

“After New York, I convinced the World Security Council we needed a quantum surge in threat analysis. For once we’re way ahead of the curve”

“By holding a gun at everyone on Earth and calling it protection?” Steve looked at the director, frowning. He didn’t like this. It smacked of something HYDRA would do.

Fury picked up on his tone and he looked at Steve, arching an eyebrow. “You know, I read those SSR files. Greatest generation? You guys did some nasty stuff.”

Don’t I know it? Steve thought to himself as he took a deep breath. “Yeah, we compromised. Sometimes in ways that made us not sleep so well. But we did it so the people could be free.” He turned and pointed at the helicarriers before looking at Fury “This isn’t freedom, this is fear.”

“SHIELD takes the world as it is, not as we’d like it to be.” Fury stated simply. “It’s getting damn near past time for you to get with that program, Cap”

Steve shook his head. “Don’t hold your breath.” And with that he left.

He changed quickly, eager to put as much distance between him and SHIELD as possible for the rest of the day. After a short conversation with Rumlow about a mission report, he was on his bike and heading for Katie’s apartment, his mind whirling. What was Fury playing at? This wasn’t what he signed up for, at all. It felt so far removed from what he had joined the army to do, to keep people safe, free. Had he really changed that much? He felt a sudden pang for his Howling Commandoes, for Bucky, for Peggy, for Colonel Philips, for all those damned missions which had been simple- destroy HYDRA before they destroyed you.

Despite the fact he had woken up that morning and felt so happy with his girl being there, he couldn’t help but wish life was as simple as it had been back then.

*****

Katie’s morning had been far more productive. She had looked at a couple of transcript extracts her editor had selected. She had to admit, the guy had a good eye for a future blockbuster, and this one she particularly liked. After discussions, they settled on an initial run of two hundred hard copy of the books to be sold online, along with a downloadable kindle version, and if they went they would review how many more we needed.

Pleased with her mornings work and having cleared her diary for the afternoon, she had lunch in the kitchen and had just finished when she heard the elevator door open. She headed into the main area of her apartment to greet Steve, taking a deep breath as she noticed how drained he looked.

“Dare I ask how it went?”

His response was a sigh as he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her in for a hug, simply wanting to feel her close.

“That good huh?” She squeezed him back gently before she pulled away and headed towards the kitchen, him following behind her.

“Debrief was fine. Fury, however, went on about compartmentalisation, the usual crap.” Steve sighed, running his hand over his face, smiling softly to himself when he saw she was gathering stuff out of the fridge to make him a sandwich “And then shared something I really wish he hadn’t.”

“Like what?” she asked, throwing some turkey and mayo onto a sub. “Ever heard of Operation Insight?” Steve looked at her, even though he knew the answer. There’s no way she would have and not told him.

“No?” She handed him the plate containing his sandwich.

“Well apparently your brother has. Thanks.” He took the plate from her sat at the breakfast bar taking a bite of his food. He swallowed and then continued “Three huge hellicarriers that are basically designed to go up in the air and never come down based on Tony’s arc reactor tech. Programmed to monitor potential threats and wipe them out before they get chance to do anything.” She frowned, settling on the stool next to him. “And Fury has sanctioned this?”

Steve nodded, taking another bite of his food. “I don’t like it. Like I said to him, punishment normally comes after the crime.”

Katie could see he was really struggling with this and that his faith in SHIELD was running very, very thin. A lot of what the Agency did was political, not just about keeping people safe. She’d tried to explain that the lines were a lot more blurred than back in the 40s, but still had to admit she was kind of with him. As she pondered for a moment, Steve could see the cogs whirring in her brain, the slight v shape crease that always formed in the middle of her eyes when she was thinking was present. Steve didn’t blame her, it had thrown him too and he’d had the full explanation. The hangar had been huge, and there were enough people in there to make him realise that a LOT of people knew about it. What he didn’t know was who on his immediate team knew about it.

“I just wanna know who I can trust” He sighed, looking at Katie as she reached out gently, touching his cheek.

“I know, Soldier.” she said, softly before she shook her head. “Okay, no more talk about SHIELD or hellicarriers, or whatever.” She moved to pick up her soda. “What do you want to for the rest of the afternoon?”

Steve wanted to go to the Smithsonian. He’d been thinking about it since they had emailed him to invite him to open the exhibit on him, which he had politely declined. But he was curious to see what it was like, curious and also eager, after today, to be reminded of a time when he worked with people he knew inside out, people that he would trust with his life. And he was keen to share that with his girl, the woman who had months ago before they even started dating, been the one to help him pick what the museum would display.

“You know, we’ve still not been to the Smithsonian since they opened the exhibit.” He shruged, hoping his tone was casual enough to make it sound like he hadn’t been thinking about it enough. He failed though, smiling as Katie looked at him, arching an eyebrow.

Busted.

“Call it curiosity.” He shrugged.

“You know what curiosity did don’t you?” Katie quipped back, her eyes flashing playfully.

“What?”

She grinned as she delivered the punchline “Killed the Cap.”

*****

“A symbol to the nation. A hero to the world. The story of Captain America is one of honour, bravery and sacrifice,” the narrator at the Smithsonian museum said as we entered the exhibit.

Steve paused to pull the collar of his blue jacket up a little further, a gesture that, along with the cap that was pulled down over his face, he hoped would prevent him from being recognised as they made their way to the start of the pieces.

"Denied enlistment due to poor health, Steven Rogers was chosen for a program unique in the annals of American warfare. One that would transform him into the world’s first super soldier,” the Narrator continued. Steve paused to look at the display to his right when Katie gently nudged him.

“Think you’ve been rumbled.”

Steve looked down at her, and then followed her gaze as she looked to her left at a small boy dressed in a light blue T-shirt adorned with the design of his shield who was watching the pair of them, his eyes growing wide. Steve smiled, put a finger against his mouth to indicate for him to keep quiet. The boy nodded and then turned, running back off to find his mum.

Without speaking Steve took her hand and led her over to the part of the exhibit that had an older looking motorcycle on a platform and some black and white footage playing beside it. The footage was of him in his older Captain America uniform, also currently on display, running through a battlefield.

“In this rare footage, everyone’s favourite war hero, Captain America…”

He didn’t stop to hear the rest, he could remember that mission by heart. It had been on the outskirts of Toulouse, liberating another HYDRA prison camp. Katie allowed herself to be led by him, this was his moment after all. They slowly walked to a display of mannequins dressed in his original suit, plus those of the Howling Commandos, which had been donated by their families. His eyes lingered on Bucky’s for a second and he took a deep breath.

“Battle tested, Captain America and his Howling Commandos quickly earned their stripes. Their mission, taking down HYDRA, the Nazi rogue science division,”

Katie looked at the uniforms, a smile on her face. She had only seen photos of Steve’s war suit, never seen it in person and it intrigued her. More so because this was something that her dad had made, something physical he had touched. She felt a tug on her hand again, and she looked up to see that she was being led to a section dedicated to Bucky. The familiar (albeit again, only from photos), handsome face of his best friend looked back at them as they wandered over to read what it said in more detail.

“Best friends since childhood, Bucky Barnes and Steve Rogers were inseparable on both school yard and battlefield. Barnes is the only Howling Commando to give his life in service of his country…”

The narration didn’t cover half the text on the black, glass screen and in Katie’s opinion it wasn’t a particularly good tribute to a man who had lost his life in such tragic circumstances. She read the rest of the text as Steve’s eyes skated over it, reading, despite the fact he knew it all. He wished he could have saved him, he really did. He’d loved him to have been able to meet Katie. But then, he wouldn’t have anyway. As he would have most likely been dead now. Or what’s to say things may or may not have ended up differently. Would Buck have been on the Valkyrie with him?

He watched the black and white footage playing, where the two of them were talking and then laughing about something and he felt the sadness hit his chest again. And as if she sensed it too, Katie gripped his hand a little bit tighter and lay her head against his arm, her weight giving him something to anchor himself too, and he was grateful for it.

They carried on walking and then they found there was a small cinema area a bit further round the corner playing footage and interviews. Steve paused for a second and then looked at Katie, the question stayed silent. She nodded and together they walked in, taking a seat on one of the benches. There was a bit of introduction footage, and then a familiar face appeared on the screen.

Besides him Katie took a deep breath and whispered a single word “Dad…” and he automatically dropped a hand to her knee, where she placed hers on top of his as the two of them watched her father an animatedly talking to the camera.

“Rogers was different” Howard spoke, smiling, the caption on the screen telling him the footage had been filmed in 1953. “He was constantly striving to do the right thing, with no fear or care for how it would affect him. He, err, when we dropped him behind enemy lines we had no idea if we would see him again. I narrowly escaped myself, the machine guns nearly took our aircraft down but without thought to how he would get back, he told us to leave him behind. When they declared him missing in action the entire company was devastated but, lo and behold… well they can’t keep a good man down.” Howard paused and then looked down and back up at the camera “I can only hope that if I’m graced with Children, they grow up to be half as driven as he was to do the right thing…”

As Katie looked down at her feet, a stray tear fell down her cheek. Seeing her dad there like that was raw. She knew that Tony felt the loss of their parents far more than she did, she had only been seven after all when they had died and Tony had been her father, if you will, for far longer than her actual dad had. But still, seeing him in front of her so candidly, talking about his hopes for his future children, made something in her chest tighten and she couldn’t help but feel sadness at the fact she never got the chance to really know him. Steve gently squeezed her knee, but then as they looked back up at the screen it was his turn to still as someone he recognised extremely well, her face painted into his memory for life, entered the screen and began speaking, also in 1953.

"That was a difficult winter. A blizzard had trapped half our battalion behind the German line. Steve, Captain Rogers, he fought his way through a HYDRA blockade that had pinned our allies down for months.” Peggy Carter stumbled slightly through the interview. “He saved over a thousand men, including the man who would become my husband as it turned out. Even after he died, Steve was still changing my life,” And despite the fact that she smiles slightly at the end of this line, it’s clear to see that talking about Steve affected her a lot.

Katie leaned against him and with a breath he lay his head on top of hers. “We haven’t seen her for a while…” she whispered as the video finished. “Shall we go on the way home?” He gave a soft chuckle and dropped a kiss to the crown of her head.

“You read my mind.”

*******

Peggy was pleased to see them, as always when she was having a good day. They both greeted her and after a few pleasantries they told her about their trip to the Smithsonian. Peggy smiled, informing them that she remembered the interview, like it was yesterday, apparently the man interviewing her had been an “utter rogue”, but she didn’t elaborate on what that meant further than saying he was worse than Barnes, which made Steve laugh. They chatted a little about her time as Director at SHIELD before she trailed off with a sigh as she noticed that Steve was uncharacteristically quiet. After a little gentle coaxing from her and Katie he told her what was on his mind.

“My whole life I’ve just wanted to do what was right, I guess I’m not sure what that is anymore.” He paused for a moment, thinking of how to voice his worries about SHIELD “And I thought I could just throw myself back in and follow orders, it’s just not the same.”

Peggy chuckled as she rolled her eyes and looked at Katie. “He’s always so dramatic.”

Katie let out a small laugh, nodding her agreement. “Tell me about it!”

Steve shook his head, a smile on his face as he raised his eyebrows slightly and looked away as Peggy continued to speak.

“Look you saved the world, we rather mucked it up.”

“No you didn’t. You know, knowing that you helped found SHIELD is half the reason I stay.”

“And the other half being?” Her eyes strayed to Katie who smiled, looking down and then up at Steve as he caught her eye, his hand resting on her knee.

“I quit remember?” Katie reminded her.

Peggy smiled “Indeed, a woman with principles. That I can get on board with. ”Katie gave a little smile as Peggy continued. “Look, the world has changed and none of us can go back.” She spoke softly. “All we can do is our best, and sometimes the best that we can do is to start over.“

At that she started to cough. Steve quickly picked up a glass of water from the table and rounded the back of the chair Katie was sitting in to try and hand her the glass.

"Peg?” He held the glass out as her coughing subsided and she took a sip. Once she had finished she looked up and stared at Steve as if she was seeing a ghost

“Steve?” Peggy breathed out in an amazed yet broken voice.

“Yeah,” Steve whispered, his heart sinking as he recognised the look in her face. Her memory had gone, again.

“You’re alive! You, you came, you came back,” Peggy whimpered. Tears were gathering in her eyes at this point as she tried to hold them back and Steve was struggling to do the same with his own. One of the smartest, nicest, bravest women he had ever met was being betrayed by an illness that was literally rotting her brain. It was cruel, and every time she did this, they went through the same routine.

“Yeah, Peggy.” Steve responded forcing a smile onto his face as Katie squeezed his hand gently, standing up so he could take the chair next to Peggy.

“It’s been so long. So long,” Peggy started to cry, giving up on holding back her tears.

“I’ll leave you with her.” Katie spoke softly as she gently touched Steve’s shoulder. His hand briefly reached up to lay over hers before he leaned over to take Peggy’s.

“Well, I couldn’t leave you.” He forced himself to smile. “Not when you still owe me a dance.”

Normally that calmed the old lady down, but not today. She was becoming more and more confused and in the end he had to press the call button.

“Again?” The nurse who attended asked softly, and Steve simply nodded.

“I’ll fetch the doctor.”

Outside Katie took a deep breath and headed towards her car. Ex partners could always be an issue in relationships but this was something else, something completely different. She opened the passenger side to the car and sat side on in the seat, door open, legs dangling out. She felt sorry for Peggy, she really did, and her heart ached for Steve. It can’t be easy seeing the woman he once loved, and probably still did in some way, fading like that in front of your eyes.

She ran her hand over her face, rubbing at her eyes slightly and waited as she watched various people coming and going out of the main doors of the hospital. It wasn’t that long before a familiar figure appeared, a flash of white T-shirt standing out against his dark navy jacket and equally dark jeans as he walked towards her, hands in his pockets. She stood up, not saying a word as she wrapped her arms around him and he buried his face into the nook of her shoulder and neck, his safe place, his hands gently resting on her hips as he breathed out a sigh.

“Is she okay?” she asked gently. “Yeah they sedated her.” He said as he pulled away.

“I’m so sorry Steve.”

“What for?” “Peggy…it’s so unfair.” “Yeah…” He replied simply. And it was. He wished things could be different, that Peggy wasn’t ill. That she could be home, with her family, living out the last years of her life with the dignity she had lived the rest of it. She deserved more. He looked over the car roof across the street and watched for a second, everyone milling about their business, getting on with their lives. Like he was, and whilst he wished things had been different for Peggy, he suddenly found himself thinking and wondering if he would change anything if he could.

He felt Katie still in front of him, reacting to the fact he himself had changed posture, and as he looked down at her he was suddenly struck with the answer to his question. Despite everything, despite his sudden feelings of nostalgia sparked by the events of the last twenty hours or so, no he wouldn’t. Because whatever had happened, every action, every decision, it had led him to the girl now in his arms, and he loved her so fucking much it hurt. Yeah he had loved Peggy, he still did in some ways, but it was nothing compared to this. Nothing.

He reached out and took Katie’s hands, pulling up her arms so they were round his neck, pulling her closer to him as his own hands joined at the bottom of her back

“I love you.” He said gently, needing her to understand, to believe him. “My best girl.”

“I hope I’m your only girl, Rogers.” She sassed back with a sniff, and he smiled softly, happy that she understood.

“How about we head back to mine and not leave the flat for the entire day tomorrow?” Steve looked down at her, the idea suddenly coming to him and her face lit up. Katie loved lazy days. It was rare Steve was in the mood for them, his incessant energy normally meant he had to be doing something. But on the odd time he agreed, it usually involved them staying in bed till about midday, then watching old movies on the TV under a blanket on the couch, maybe a bit of fooling around and then calling a take out before retreating back to bed. Right now that sounded like a damned fine idea. “Can you clear your diary?”

“Consider it cleared.”

“I just wanna make one quick stop on the way home” He suggested, his journey of contemplation was leading him to one more place. He glanced at his watch before planting a kiss on her lips as she looked at him questioningly. “Thought we could pay our jogging friend a visit.”

********

“Look who it is. The running man and his pretty girl.” Sam joked slightly as he came over to the doorway where Katie and Steve were stood.

“Hey.” Katie smiled as he dropped a kiss onto her cheek.

“Caught the last few minutes. It’s pretty intense,” Steve commented as Sam shook his hand.

“Yeah, brother, we all got the same problems. Guilt, regret,” Sam shrugged. As his sentence went on his voice got more serious and softer.

“Have you lost someone?” Steve asked, perceptive as ever. Katie mentally cursed herself for not filling him in fully, but Sam didn’t seem too bothered to talk about it. He nodded gently.

“My wingman, Riley. Fly in the night mission. A standard PJ rescue op, nothing we hadn’t done a thousand times before, till an RPG knock Riley’s dumb ass out of the sky. Nothing I could do. It’s like I was up there just to watch,” Sam paused to cross his arms over his chest, his posture slightly tense. “After that, I had really hard time finding a reason for being over there, you know?”

“But you’re happy now, back in the world?” Steve asked

“Hey, the number of people giving me orders is down to about zero. So, hell, yeah,” Sam joked, loosening up slightly, before getting a bit serious, “You thinking about getting out?”

“No.” Steve replied quickly before he took a breath. “I don’t know. To be honest, I don’t know what I would do with myself if I did.”

“Ultimate fighting?” Sam shrugged and Steve laughed as Katie snorted. “It’s just a great idea off the top of my head. But seriously, you could do whatever you want to do. What makes you happy?”

Steve turned his head to look at Katie, an unconscious movement, smiling gently as he shrugged. “I dunno…”

“Oh I think you do.” Sam said, smirking slightly as Steve placed his hand on the small of his girl’s back.

“Oh, stop by the front desk on your way out,” Katie turned to Sam, smirking, and he raised an eyebrow in question,

“We asked for you by name.” Steve clarified.

“She seemed thoroughly impressed.” Katie finished. Both of Sam’s eyebrows rose at that and he looked down the hallway towards where the front desk was.

“You two are the best.” A smile stretching across his face as he began to turn to head down the hall. “Stop by anytime.”

“No problem.” Steve grinned in amusement as Sam jogged his way down the hall.

It was gone eight by the time they got home, having made a pit stop for a beer on the way. Steve held the door open for Katie, and she stepped into the apartment building and started to climb the stairs in front of him, giving him a quite pleasing view of her ass as her hips swayed side to side in front of him.

“Sam’s right you know.” She continued their discussion from the bar. “And so is Peggy.”

“What about?”

“If you wanted to get out you could do, start over.”

He took a deep breath. “I don’t know what I want, but spending the rest of my life playing janitor for Fury is not it.”

“I can write you a resignation note.” She grinned and Steve chuckled slightly and then took a deep breath.

“You know, it’s funny when I think about it. Us, stuff, what we’ve done and how far we’ve come in a year.”

“You’re saying it like it’s a bad thing.” She teased as she stepped onto his landing.

“No, that’s not what I mean at all.” He took a deep breath as she headed towards his door and turned to face him “You know, I’ve never really talked to anyone or shown them about my past in detail or introduced anyone to Peggy bar you.”

“Well I am your girlfriend.” She shrugged, holding onto the hand that wasn’t digging into his jeans pocket to fish out his keys. “Your best girl.” At that he smiled. “So you should be able to talk to me about anything.”

“I know, I’m not explaining myself very well.” He remarked, finally succeeding in obtaining his keys. And he wasn’t. He was trying to tell her that he couldn’t imagine his life without her, that he wanted her to share his everything, including his home.

“Spit it out Rogers.” She teased as he slid the key into the lock.

He took a deep breath. “Coming home last night and you being there…and then this morning…it was perfect, Doll, and I want that all the time.” He turned to face her leaving his key hanging from the door. “How would you feel about us maybe moving in together?”

She paused for a moment, looking at him, realising he was deadly serious. She raised her eyebrow.

“I thought you came from a time where man and woman didn’t live together until they were married?”

“We could get married if you want.” He blurted out. That made Katie raise both eyebrows as she studied him again, her mouth dropping into a small ‘o’. Steve looked back at her, trying to keep his face passive, as if it had been a joke, even though he knew it wasn’t. He’d known for months she was the one.

But to blurt it out like that? Outside his apartment door, in such a dumbass way?

Way to go, Rogers.

Katie cocked her head to one side, there was a funny look on Steve’s face that she couldn’t place. But whatever it was, even if Steve was serious about them getting married, she knew him well enough to understand that was not how he would want to propose, and that he was probably kicking himself about stumbling it out the way he had done. So she broke the nervous tension, as she always did, with a slight joke.

“You know, that’s not much of a proposal.” She slid her arms up around his neck. “But its one step up from you’d make a great housewife, I suppose.”

“Should I try again?” A cheeky grin spread across his face, glad the tone was playful, his arms circling her waist “Yeah, with a big, fuck off Tiffany diamond.”

“I didn’t think you were so materialistic?”

“Well, you know what they say? Diamonds are a girls’ best friend.”

“And there I was, thinking it was me.” He muttered, his lips pressing onto hers.

“That’s so sweet!” A voice interrupted and they both turned to look at Kate, his neighbour from over the hall. For a split second Steve thought she was talking to them but it soon became apparent she was on the phone. “That’s so nice…but hey, I gotta go…okay bye…”

She dropped the phone into the basket of laundry she was carrying before grinning at us both “My aunt, she’s kind of an insomniac”

Steve smile before looking at the basket of washing in her arms as he dropped his arm round Katie’s shoulder “you know if you want…if you want, you can use my machine. Might be easier and cheaper than the one in the basement.” “Thank you, but I already have a load in downstairs actually, and you really don’t want my scrubs in your machine.” She grinned. “I just finished a rotation on the infectious diseases ward, so,”

“Ah, well, we’ll keep our distance,” Steve grinned, holding his hands up, palms out.

“Hopefully not too far.” She chuckled. “Don’t want to lose my best neighbour. Okay, well I better be off.” She turned to go before she stopped and spun back round to look at Steve. “Oh, by the way, I think you left your stereo on.”

“Right, thank you.” Steve watched her go, frowning. He looked at Katie as they both pressed their ears to the door. The record player was certainly on but…

“We definitely didn’t leave that on before.” Katie looked at him, as the gentle tones of Kitty Kallen Long Long Time hit their ears.

Steve held his finger up to his lips and gestured to the window, before leaving Katie where he was. He ran off, down the stairs as fast as he could and then he scaled the gate on the fire escape easily. Once he reached the steps which were parallel to his window he took a running jump, easily pulling himself up over the sill and into the kitchen area. Quickly and quietly he moved along the wall, picking up his shield which was leaning against the shelving unit. Holding it up, he cautiously peered round the corner of the room into the living area and instantly relaxed when he saw Fury lounging in a chair.

“I don’t remember giving you a key.” He said, somewhat sardonically.

“What, you really think I’d need one?” Nick replied. Steve shook his head and headed to the front door of the flat, pulling it open.

“Fury.” He said with a roll of his eyes, turning and walking back into the apartment.

“Huh?” Katie asked as she followed him into the living room, where the music was coming from, to see Fury sitting on the couch in the dark.

“What are you doing here?” She demanded.

"Nice to see you too, Nova. And in answer to your question my wife kicked me out.”

“I didn’t know you were married,” She continued, frowning. And she didn’t. And she wasn’t sure that he was.

“There are a lot of things you don’t about me,” Fury replied casually.

“I know, Nick. That’s the problem,” Steve grumbled walking forward as Katie remained where she was, eyes narrowed at her old boss. Steve flipped on the light switch, instantly recoiling in surprise when he noticed Fury’s injuries. Besides him Katie gasped slightly and moved to get closer to help but Fury indicated for her to stop and the both of them to stay quiet. He turned off the light again and typed something on his phone.

'EARS EVERYWHERE’.

Bugs? His apartment was bugged? By who? They both exchanged a glance and instantly Katie looked up and around the room, as if she expected to see a microphone glaring at them.

“I’m sorry to have to do this but I had nowhere else to crash,” Fury looked around a bit before he typed something else up on his phone:

'SHIELD COMPROMISED’.

Steve and Katie shared another glance, the pair of them wide eyed. This was bad.

“Who else knows about your wife?” Steve asked, keeping his voice even.

Fury showed them another text;

'YOU TWO AND ME’.

“Just my friends,” Fury grunted in pain while getting up and walking closer to them.

“Is that what we are?” Katie blinked at him. She still hadn’t completely forgiven the man for lying to them all about Coulson.

“That’s up to you.” Fury replied, his eyes darting from Katie to Steve.

Then out of nowhere came a rapid succession of gunshots. Steve quickly pushed Katie out of the way, the pair of them taking cover behind the kitchen wall as Fury groaned before he collapsed down to the floor. Steve scooted forward, keeping as low as he could, pulling him into the kitchen. Katie knelt next to him and tried to check his injuries through his black clothing when he reached up and handed something to Steve.

“Don’t, trust anyone,” he coughed before passing out. Katie and Steve both looked at what he had been handed and saw that it was a flash drive. Steve curled his hand around it and looked at Katie, but before either of them could say anything else there was the sound of someone breaking into the apartment. Steve quickly moved into a defensive position, in front of Katie and Fury, raising his shield.

“Captain Rogers?” a familiar voice suddenly called out and they watched as Kate, his neighbour, cautiously walked in with a gun pointed. “I’m Agent Thirteen of SHIELD’s Special Service.”

“Kate?” Steve frowned, shaking his head. He’d just about had his fill of surprises.

“I’m assigned to protect you.” She continued

“On whose orders?” Katie snapped.

Kate stopped as she spotted Fury lying on the floor. “His,” she dropped besides Katie, checking Fury for a pulse and then spoke into her radio

“Foxtrot is down, he’s unresponsive. I need EMTs.”

“Do you have a twenty on the shooter?” A SHIELD agent questioned through the radio.

Then there was a movement on the other side of the window, on the roof adjacent to the building. Steve instantly glanced up and saw a flash of silver and the shadow of a figure running across the rooftop.

“Tell them I’m in pursuit.” He said and with that he took a running jump and smashed straight through his window, and through into the office building opposite. Steve ran, keeping his eye on the man, smashing through walls, windows, anything in his way. Eventually he caught up with him on the roof and flung his shield at the assassin who, to Steve’s shock, caught it with one swift move in the hand of his metal arm. There was a pause as Steve could do nothing but eye the man with surprise before the shield came flying back. Steve caught it, with both hands on its rim but the force pushed him back a few yards along the gravel surface of the roof. By the time he had stopped the momentum moving him, the assassin had jumped. Steve ran to the edge of the building and looked down.

He was gone.

*****

“What happened?” Hill asked as they all looked through the glass window at the hustle and bustle of the operating room. Steve moved his arm from around Katie and took her hand in his, squeezing her fingers gently.

"He was at my apartment when we got home.” Steve started. “I hadn’t even had chance to ask why when there were two blasts, then another. Someone shot him through the window- three times. I tried to go after the shooter, but I lost him on the roof of the building across the street.”

Steve had no doubt in his mind that if there was anyone else in SHIELD they could trust right now it was Hill, but both he and Katie kept quiet. He had taken Fury’s warning of trusting nobody seriously and had told Katie as much as they had strode through the ED of the hospital. Both were aware that Hill was studying them, side on, her face stony.

“What aren’t you telling me?” She asked quietly.

“Nothing.” Katie answered for them.

Before Hill could drill either of them anymore, the door to the observation room flung open and heavy footsteps crossed the room, stopping at the other side of Katie.

“Is he gonna make it?” Natasha asked, almost inaudibly, staring through the window.

“We don’t know,” Hill mumbled.

“Tell me about the shooter,” Natasha whispered

“He’s fast and strong. And he had a metal arm,” Steve said, letting go of Katie’s hand to fold his arms across his chest and as he did, they both caught the look of recognition and slight fear on Natasha’s face reflected in the window.

“Ballistics?” She swallowed heavily.

“Three slugs. No rifling and completely untraceable,” Maria answered softly.

“Soviet made?”

“Yeah,” Maria looked at Natasha in shock. Steve turned to face her, as did Katie, but she didn’t look back. She stared straight through to the operating theatre but before Katie could ask what it was that she wasn’t saying, the operation room went into overdrive. Machines started beeping erratically, the doctors and nurses were rushing around the room and the panic was palpable even behind the glass. But they couldn’t save him.

“Time of death, 1:03 A.M.”

A few moments passed as the four of them stood completely in shock. Katie reached up to wipe a tear that had trickled down her cheek away, before Natasha turned and almost sprinted out of the room.

Steve pulled his hand out of his pocket, turning the flash drive that Nick had given him over in his hand. Nick had been killed because he knew whatever it was that was on that drive. What could possibly be so bad, so secret, so dangerous that the Director of SHIELD was deemed a threat for knowing? He glanced up at Katie who was watching him, tears in her eyes. She might have had her issues with Fury, but he was a good man and would never have wished him dead. With a sigh Steve placed the item back into his pocket and pulled her in for a hug.

******

A little later, they were all in the same room as Nick’s body. Natasha was by him, hardly having moved a muscle, almost like she was in shock. And it unnerved Katie. Nat wasn’t one to really show emotion but then again, Fury had meant a lot to her. The door opened and a doctor entered, speaking to Hill. She nodded and then walked over to Katie and Steve, coughing to clear her throat.

“They need to take him.” She said, her voice cracking slightly. Steve nodded and stepped forwards.

“Nat. Natasha…” But at that she turned away from them all and made her way quickly into the corridor of the Hospital. Katie and Steve looked at one another, before they hastily followed her.

“Why was Fury in your apartment?” Natasha span around to ask Steve. Her eyes were filled with sadness, but Katie could also see suspicion etched on her pretty features.

“I don’t know,” Steve sighed shrugging his shoulders, and before the conversation could go on further they were interrupted by Rumlow.

“Cap, they want you back at Shield,” He informed them, gently touching Katie’s shoulder. “You too Nova.”

“Alright, give us a second,” Steve nodded dismissing Rumlow, perhaps a little more harshly than he intended, as he turned back to Natasha but Rumlow was insistent

“They want you now,”

“Alright” Katie spoke firmly but calmly. Rumlow nodded and then moved back down the hallway.

“You’re a terrible liar.” Natasha shook her head at Steve with her trademark smirk that didn’t reach her eyes before she turned and left.

“What the hell is on that drive?” Katie asked Steve after a moment of silence.

“I don’t know, but it’s what Natasha was saving data to on our mission the other day.” He replied before he looked up staring very focused into a vending machine to his right, which was open as a janitor filled it up. He didn’t want to take the drive back to the Triskellion, just in case. He knew that something wasn’t quite right.

Katie caught his eye before glancing around the hallway that was mostly full of SHIELD agents, luckily they were all congregated on the other end.

“Do it.” She nodded, figuring out his intention to hide the item “I’ll distract them.”

Without another look back at him, she began to stride forwards towards Rumlow.

“Its almost four am.” she glanced at her watch. “What do they want us for Brock? We already told Sitwell what we know and I don’t work for SHIELD anymore, remember?”

Rumlow shrugged “Honestly, I don’t know Nova. I’m just under instructions to get you both back to base.”

At that point Steve reached them, but he wasn’t stopping. Taking Katie’s hand he nodded to the STRIKE leader

“Let’s go.”

“Yeah,” Rumlow fell into step with them, fixing his earpiece. “Strike! Move it out.”

Steve drove to the Triskellion, Katie’s car flanked by the Armoured SUVs as they sped through the streets of DC. Katie dozed off for ten minutes and Steve let her sleep, lost in his own thoughts. He had expected her to be called in alongside him, especially after she had been, along with him, the last people Fury had spoken to him before he died. But he wasn’t happy about it, he wanted her as far away from whatever the hell was going on as possible. Once they arrived he gently shook her awake and the two of them were given an hour or so to grab something to eat. Neither were hungry, but they forced down their sandwiches, Katie’s brain working in overdrive as she did so. Something was nagging at her, and she was trying to make the connections, figure it out, but her head simply kept replaying Fury getting shot over and over.

“Foxtrot is down, he’s unresponsive. I need EMTs.”

“Do you have a twenty on the shooter?”

She frowned.

“What is?” Steve asked, coffee in his hand as he sat back on one of the large chairs in one of the common rooms by the kitchen area.

“Before…when Kate…Agent thirteen, whatever the hell her name is called back to base…she said Fury was down and needed EMTs…”

She paused and Steve waited, knowing how her analytical brain worked. She had to follow threads, talk them over or write them out, letting them weave together as she did. A look of comprehension crossed her face as the threads connected.

“Sitwell…” She whispered.

“What about him?” Steve asked. “He was the one that replied, at least it sounded like him.” She bit her lip, but not in the seductive way that made his crotch twitch, the way she did when she was thinking “And he asked…do you have a twenty on the shooter.”

Steve frowned, not quite sure where this was going. “Okay…” “Well, how did he know Fury had been shot? How could anyone know he had been shot?”

Now he understood. He understood completely. Damned it she was clever. “They couldn’t.” He sat up and leaned towards her, his voice dropping. “Not unless they were there or Kate…whoever, told them.”

“And she didn’t. She just said he was down and unresponsive.” “Which means…” Steve began, but Katie finished for him. “Sitwell knew about the hit. Because he was in on it.”

The both looked at one another, their faces wearing similar looks of shock. Fury was right, SHIELD was compromised. But how far, they had no idea.

Before Steve had chance to say anything else, the door opened and Rumlow stepped in

“Secretary Pierce is ready now guys.” “Thanks.” Katie nodded, shooting Steve another glance as they both stood up.

“Not a word.” He mumbled as they got into the elevator “We say nothing, not until we figure out who we can trust.”

“If we can trust anyone.” She mumbled back.

*****

“Captain, why was Nick in your apartment last night?” Secretary Pierce looked at Steve as he sat on the couch next to Katie in the large office.

“I don’t know.” He answered in a soft voice.

“Did you know it was bugged?” Pierce pressed on.

“We did.” Katie nodded meeting the secretary’s eye. “Because Nick told us.”

“Did he tell you he was the one who bugged it?”

Steve took a breath and glanced at Katie, his expression stony but the two of them shared the understanding.

No, no he had not.

“I want you to see something.” Pierce continued, and gestured to a monitor just behind the couches we were sitting on. On the screen was a man tied down to a chair, he looked to be currently being interrogated. Katie didn’t recognise the man, but Steve did. It was Batroc, the lead merc from the hijacking of the Lemurian Star.

“Is that live?” Steve asked.

“Yeah, they picked him up last night in a not so safe house in Algiers.”

“Are you saying he’s a suspect?” Steve didn’t take his eyes off the screen “Assassination isn’t Batroc’s line.”

“It’s more complicated than that. Batroc was hired anonymously to hijack the Lemurian Star. He was contacted by email and paid by wire transfer, and then the money was run through seventeen fictitious accounts. The last going to a holding company that was registered to a Jacob Veech.” Pierce said handing Steve a folder.

“Am I supposed to know who that is?” Steve skimmed through the file offered to him in curiosity and confusion.

“Not likely. Veech died six years ago. His last address was 1435 Elmhurst Drive. When I first met Nick, his mother lived at 1437.”

“Wait,” Katie frowned as she gathered what Pierce was suggesting. “Are you saying Fury hired the pirates? Why?”

“The prevailing theory?” Pierce shrugged. “The hijacking was a cover for the acquisition and sale of classified intelligence. The sale went sour and that led to Nick’s death.”

“If you really knew Nick Fury you’d know that’s not true.” Steve replied strongly, and he believed it. Fury was a lot of things, but a traitor he was not.

Pierce nodded in agreement. “Why do you think we’re here talking?” He then got to his feet and began to walk towards the window. “See, I took a seat on the council not because I wanted to, but because Nick asked me to because we were both realists. We knew that despite all the diplomacy, and the hand shaking and the rhetoric, to build a really better world sometimes means having to tear the old one down. And that makes enemies.”

Steve didn’t like the way this was going. He looked at Katie and gestured for her to stand as he did. Pierce turned back around and looked at them both.

“Those people that call you dirty because you’ve got the guts to stick your hands in the mud and try to build something better. And the idea that those people could be happy today,” Pierce shoved his hands in his pockets. “Makes me really, really angry. Captain, you and Miss Stark were the last ones to see Nick Fury alive. I don’t think that’s an accident.” Pierce said matter-of-factly. “And I don’t think you do, either. So, I’m going to ask again was he there?”

“He told us not to trust anyone.” Steve said honestly.

Pierce made a humming sound. “I wonder, if that included him.”

There was a tense moment of silence before Steve spoke again. “I’m sorry. Those were his last words. Excuse us,” He turned to leave, picking up his shield that he sent down upon our arrival and attaching it to the harness on his back, before ushering Katie out of the room slightly ahead of him.

“Captain,” Pierce’s voice halted him mid step and he turned to look at him. “Someone murdered my friend. I’m going to find out why. Anyone who gets in my way is going to regret it.” Pierce’s voice rang out again, a pointed look in their direction.

Steve wasn’t a stupid man, and he knew that was a veiled threat. He took a deep breath, considering his response, before he decided appearing un-rattled was the best option.

“Understood.” He nodded, holding the door open for Katie to step through keeping himself between her and Pierce as he followed, anchoring his hand on her back to keep her moving.

“You should have lied.” She whispered.

“Huh?” “Back then, said we didn’t know why Fury was there. By telling him that he told us not to trust anyone he knows we know and that we’re hiding something.” Her tone was a little panicked and Steve simply took a deep breath.

“We need to get to the hospital and get that stick.” He looked at her, remaining adamant that whatever it was that was on there would hold the answers. He looked up and down the corridor before they stepped into the elevator.

“Operations Control” Steve spoke as the elevator scanned his face and Katie’s Guest ID.

“Confirmed”

Just as the doors were about to close, Rumlow stepped in with two other STRIKE agents.

“Keep all STRIKE personnel on site” He was saying. Both the agents nodded and voiced their acknowledgement of his order. “Forensics.”

“Confirmed.”

“Cap, Nova…” Rumlow nodded to them both.

“Rumlow.” Steve acknowledged him as the doors closed and they started to descend.

“Evidence Response found some fibres on the roof they want us to see.” Rumlow turned his head to look at Steve. “You want me to get the tac-team ready?”

“No, let’s wait and see what it is first.”

“Right.” Rumlow turned back and Steve looked out of the side of the elevator, pondering what his next move was. Chase down the man responsible? The drive? The elevator stopped at the next floor and Rollins plus a few more SHIELD and Strike agents entered, Steve moving over slightly to allow them in.

“What’s the status so far?” Rollins was saying.

“Administrations level” another one asked, before they continued whatever it was they were talking about, moving round to find a space behind Steve and Katie.

He noticed Katie look round, a frown on her face, but before he could say anything Rumlow spoke, looking over his shoulder at Steve.

“I’m sorry about what happened with Fury. Messed up, what happened to him”

“Thank you.” Steve nodded.

Katie could sense something was off. Years of training as an Agent didn’t just leave you when you quit, and those years of training had taught her very well to read body language. Rumlow was alert, too alert, and it was more than just a nervousness because Fury had been killed. There was an atmosphere in the lift, and she glanced at one of the agents that had joined them at the last floor. He was still talking, normally, but he there was a bead of sweat dripping down his cheek from his temple.

Steve could sense it too. He watched as Rumlow and Rollins exchanged a glance and looked down at Katie who was watching him, nervous expression on her face. He shook his head gently, instructing her to keep calm.

The elevator stopped and another agent entered.

“Records”

This one stood in front of them, facing the elevator doors and it was then with a slight air of exasperation at allowing it to happen, Steve realised they were surrounded. Whilst he wasn’t too concerned, he knew he could more than likely fight his way out, it was his girl he was bothered for. It had been months since she had been in active combat, and this was going to be brutal. Besides him Katie stiffened, feeling very underprepared for what was about to go down. She had no weapons, nothing. Instinctively Steve gripped her hand and pulled her forward so she was stood next to him instead of behind and moved his feet apart slightly, hands on the buckle of his belt, adopting his Captain stance, preparing for what was coming.

“Before we get started,” he sighed, looking down before he stared straight ahead, “does anyone want to get out?”

His eyes flicked to the back of Rumlow’s head. There was a moment’s pause before all hell broke loose. They both put up a good fight, ducking, diving, punching. Steve was then shocked with a baton, but he simply grit his teeth, absorbing the electricity into his body. It hurt, but it wasn’t unbearable. And then, three of them managed to snap one of his arms to the wall of the elevator using some kind of metallic clamp, before five of them piled on him at once, attempting to pin his other arm in too. He kicked out, taking down as many as he could.

Just as Katie had floored the second of the agents who had launched at her, she was grabbed from behind by her hair and hauled to the edge of the elevator, being wrestled roughly to the floor by Rumlow who was instantly on top of her, trying to get her wrists from where she had positioned them underneath her body in an attempt to stop them restraining her.

"Brock…” She spoke gently, looking at him as she swallowed. “What’s going on?” “I’m sorry Stark.” He shook his head. “Just following orders.”

“Yeah well follow this.” She snarled, the anger brewing in her as she jerked her head forwards as hard as she could, feeling it connect with his nose. He yelled, and then her head snapped painfully to the right as he back handed her straight across the face. She felt her lip split and the warm, metallic taste of blood hit her taste buds, stars flashing in front of her eyes as her ears began to ring from the harsh knock.

Steve saw Rumlow land the blow to Katie’s face and let out a growl of anger and aimed another kick at the final agent standing, causing them man to collide with the side of the elevator before slumping down. He turned, pulled on his arm as hard as he could, wrenching the cuff off the side of the elevator and looked up in time to see Katie, who was now pinned against the wall by another set of those damned cuffs, take a blow to the ribs from Rumlow causing her to cry out in pain.

“Rumlow!” Steve yelled causing the man to whip his head round, surprise on his face. Katie, using her arms as leverage, swung her legs upwards, kicking Rumlow with both feet. The STRIKE leader stumbled slightly as Steve snarled at him, his entire body and face alight with rage “Touch my girl again and I’ll fucking kill you.”

Rumlow got to his feet, holding one of his arms out, electric rod in his hand “Whoa, big guy. I just want you both to know, this ain’t personal.”

He then lunged at Steve with his electric rod but one on one Steve was easily able to defend himself, he moved to the right, dodged and grabbed Rumlow, throwing him harshly upwards where he crashed into the ceiling of the elevator, before falling to the floor, unconscious.

“Yeah well, it kind of feels personal” Steve said, his breath slightly ragged from the exertion. He used his foot to flip his shield over like a Frisbee, catching it perfectly.

“You alright?” Steve asked, stepping over the bodies that littered the floor of the elevator to get to Katie.

“Yeah.” She assured him. Steve cut the cuffs that were restraining her into two pieces with his shield and she bent over, his hands gently on her back as she rubbed at her side before straightening up and stalking over to where Rumlow was beginning to stir slightly. She kicked him hard in the face, causing him to flip backwards and he was out, unconscious.

“Nothing personal.” She spat, then looked up at Steve. There was a moment during which they both looked around, trying to make sense of what had happened, before the elevator doors opened and Steve pulled Katie sharply behind him. They both stared at a team of STRIKE agents pointing their weapons into the elevator. Steve raised his shield.

“Drop the shield! Put your hands in the air!”

Steve looked round, and spotted the elevator wires to the left of Katie’s head

“DUCK!” he yelled at her, and as she did, he swiped with his shield over her head sending them plummeting. Eventually the emergency brake systems kicked in and the elevator stopped, slightly misaligned with the doors by a few feet. As Katie bent down to retrieve a gun and some ammo off one of the Agents, Steve forced the door open, intending to climb out but more STRIKE agents were approaching. He closed the door again and looked at Katie, then around the glass walls, looking down below us at the glass roof of the main Triskelion atrium.

It was a long way but they could make it.

“You’re fucking kidding, right?” Katie exclaimed, realising exactly what he was thinking.

“Give it up, Rogers! Get that door open! You have nowhere to go!” came the yell from the floor outside the elevator door.

“Do you trust me?” Steve asked, both his hands cupping Katie’s face.

“Of course I do, but…”

“Then hang on…”

She sighed and jumped onto his back, swinging her legs round his waist and her arms round his neck. Steve raised his shield in front of him, before he propelled them forward and broke through the glass in the elevator, spreading his arms out wide as he fell to prevent them from tumbling through the air before tucking his body as tightly in to his shield as he could. Katie did the same, burying her head into his back as they crashed through the glass ceiling and hit the floor with a loud clang, to screams and shouts from people all around the atrium.

Katie gave a soft groan, rolling off Steve who moaned and stretched out, having been winded from the impact. But Steve knew they had to keep moving. With a monumental effort, he pushed himself up onto his knees, took a deep breath and offered his hand to Katie to help her stand. They both took a quick glance around before he started to run, pulling her with him. She stumbled slightly, but Steve kept hold of her, not letting her fall until her legs seemed to be working again.

And then they ran.

**** Chapter 15

**Original Posting**

#stark spangled banner #steve rogers #Katie Stark #steve rogers x ofc #steve rogers x original female character #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers fic #mcu #mcu fanfic #captain america #chris evans #chris evans characters

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twoidiotwriters1 · 3 years

Text

Written In The Stars CIII (Harry Potter xF!Oc)

A/N: I know last book ended horribly but I promise this one won’t be entirely sad, just a bit frustrating– Enjoy and please leave feedback! -Danny

Words: 3,888

Series’ Masterlist

Book IV // Next Chapter

Listen to: Then -by Anne-Marie

Chapter One: A Lousy Summer.

1974

Emily wasn't going to cry where the girls would be able to hear.

She could've used a spell to quiet her own sobs, but she just needed to be in a place where there was no need to hide.

So she went to the common room, drowning her cries on a blanket and wondering how was she going to crawl her way out of this one. She thought it was unfair, she'd never experienced something so embarrassing prior this moment. Wasn't love supposed to be beautiful?

"Mily?"

The girl gave a start and cleaned her face hastily.

"Padfoot," She tried to sound casual. "What's wrong? Had a nightmare about cats chasing your tail?"

"Are you okay?" He walked up to her, ignoring the teasing. "I'm sure that if you were to talk to them..."

"I think it's clear enough," Emily averted her gaze. "All of us want things we can't have."

"That's not true."

"What exactly should I do after the humiliation I went through?" She sniffed. "He kissed me in front of everyone! I can't be near him and I refuse to be around Lily, I don't want to see any of them!"

"Mily, when I tell you Matt got the worse deal..." Sirius frowned. "The look on his face–"

"You don't need to remind me," Emily lamented. "Why can't I like him back?"

"You can't force things to happen," He shrugged. "If I could make all of you forget I would, but you'd find a way to do whatever you want anyway."

"This is not the time for jokes..."

"Talk to Moony then," Sirius complained. "I'm not good at comforting people..."

"I don't want to talk! Can we just... sit in silence?"

The girl curled up and got closer, he wrapped an arm around her awkwardly.

Really –Sirius thought with exasperation– What was she expecting? This was bound to happen, one of them would eventually develop a crush on her...

Well, more than one... but Sirius was going to take that secret to the grave. It was out of place, Matthew was way better than him– Hell, anyone was a better choice! But tonight it was just the two of them... and Emily had asked him to stay.

"It'll get better, right?" She asked quietly. "I'll get over my stupid crush and so will Matthew... we'll be back to normal in no time..."

"You were never normal," He joked.

"You know what I mean..."

"Yeah," He fixed his gaze on the dying fire, a hint of bitterness in his voice. "If you ask me, James doesn't know what he's missing..."

1995

It was the driest and hottest month of the year back in Private Drive, but Mel was freezing at the front door of Grimmauld Place.

Her mother led her in as she closed the door behind them, Mel hugged Grey's basket closer, thinking a ghost would walk out of the hall. Instead, Sirius walked in with a bright smile.

"You're here!"

Mel looked around dubiously.

"This is your house?"

"Mel! Don't be rude!"

"That's okay," Sirius made a face. "This place is hot rubbish. Your room's clean though. I made sure you'd be comfortable. I know it's hard to be away from home, stuck in such a... place."

"Well, at least you're here," She smiled. "I'm sure I'll get used to it."

"Hand me those," Sirius grabbed her trunk and walked ahead of them. "Let me take you to your rooms... Try to be quiet, my mother's portrait is mental. I tried to take it down but she glued it there. It's bloody torture."

"Language, Padfoot," Emily said, though she was far more interested in the house-elves on the shelves. "Love the decor..."

"Don't mention it," The man growled. "The house-elf that kept the house clean while I was young used to be here, I have no idea where he is, but I haven't found him. I can't wait to throw all those heads out."

"You think he died?"

"I'll find him eventually."

"So this will be the headquarters for the Order?" The girl asked, choosing to ignore his vague answer.

She'd read her mother's letters in secret until Emily found her snooping around, by then it was too late, so Emily didn't see the point on hiding it anymore.

"That's right," Sirius opened the first door of the second landing. "I figured, if I can't be of use out there, the least I can do is give a safe place where to have our meetings. It's secured with a Fidelious charm, Dumbledore did it last Saturday when he heard you were coming."

"Interesting..." Mel looked around. "Who used to sleep in this room?"

"Guests, that's why it's so plain. I thought you'd like it that way, my family wasn't keen on jolly decorations."

"I noticed," Mel grinned.

"You must be hungry, coming all this way from Remus' place. Why don't we go to the kitchen and have lunch? We can unpack later..."

Mel was helping her mother set the table when she heard a strange noise coming from the corner of the kitchen.

"What's in there?"

"It's where the elf used to keep his appliances... there might be rats in there, be careful."

When she opened the door something fell swiftly on her feet and she screamed, jumping on the table.

"What happened?" Emily circled the table. "Oh–! Sirius! I believe Mel found your elf..."

"Is he alive?" The girl asked in terror.

The creature looked ancient and dirty, with a sneer that she'd never seen in an elf before; usually, they were all smiles and compliments. This one started to insult them as soon as he lifted himself from the ground.

"Rats! Thieves! Traitors of the blood had come to rob my masters' treasures!"

"Kreacher," Sirius said. "Shut up."

The elf closed his mouth tightly but sent Sirius a deathly glare.

"He listens to me because I'm the last member of my family that still lives. Be of use, Kreacher, go clean my mother's room."

The elf's eyes shone with anger but he turned away and vanished.

"He always liked to throw tantrums," Sirius added, pulling Mel down from the table. "You're okay?"

"Yeah– it took me by surprise..."

"You jumped so high!" Her mother laughed.

"Laugh at your daughter, will you?" Mel scoffed. "Not like you're the adult or anything..."

"No one here is allowed to be an adult," Sirius crossed his arms. "Not unless we're holding a meeting. In which case we're adults. Today there won't be any, though."

"Don't listen to her, she's just upset about spending summer away from Harry," Emily mentioned.

"I'm not," She replied tensely.

"It's okay, I was beyond sad the first time I had to leave Matt for–"

"I don't feel that way about Harry," Mel retorted roughly.

"What?" Her mother's smile fell. "What happened?"

She bent down to pick up the things that fell when she'd jumped on the table.

"I'd rather not talk about it..."

"Am I missing something?" Sirius raised a brow.

"Last summer Mel told us she was having feelings for Harry..." Her mum began carefully, "I thought it was still a thing..."

"I'll tell you what it was. Stupid..." The lump in her throat formed at a remarkable speed. "I should've known better..."

"Did you talk to him?"

"He doesn't like me, Mum."

Sirius and Emily shared a look, the woman moved to hug her.

"We can talk about it if you want? Once you're ready..."

"Can we have lunch?" Mel asked quietly.

"Sure thing, little Em," Sirius nodded. "I'm a brilliant cook. Your mother's skills will be put to shame."

"How're you so sure?" Emily grinned.

"Because I remember your cooking."

Mel was spending some quality time with Buckbeak when Sirius walked in. It was almost midnight and her mother had gone out on a mission.

"Is it okay if I join you?"

Mel shrugged.

"I know you said you didn't want to talk about it, but maybe you'd like to talk to me now?"

The girl remained silent.

"C'mon, Mel! We'll live under the same roof for a while, let's practise our social skills!"

"My social skills are fine, thanks."

"I heard from a reliable source that you're still scared of speaking to large crowds..."

"I simply don't find it exciting," She lied.

"Well then, I'm not a thousand people, but I have a nice pair of ears that would love to listen to fifteen-year-olds' problems."

"I'm sure your godson will have plenty once he's back."

"He's been demoted to my godson?" Sirius taunted.

"I don't want to talk about it."

"All right, we won't talk about him... What about your father?"

"What about him?"

"Well, when he was about your age–"

"He kissed my mum and she turned him down?" She replied tiredly. "So what? They married anyway..."

Sirius frowned.

"They didn't know they were going to marry each other, that's what! Matt didn't look like himself for weeks! Your mother'd been rejected, that's why your dad kissed her. He thought it would help... to this day I don't know why he thought that, but alas, it worked!"

"Did you know the other?" Mel asked. "That kid mum used to like?"

"A fool," Sirius shrugged. "A nice fool, but an idiot nonetheless... your parents were lucky, Mel. They found a way to fall in love, but even if that hadn't been the case, your father would've found someone– your mother would've found someone... It's not that we're meant to find just one person and stick to it. Most times it's just finding an equal that understands you and suits your needs, and there are plenty of those."

"I don't want anyone," Mel pouted. "I hate this, and I wish there was a way I could avoid liking people. It's hideous."

Sirius laughed.

"Trust me, you'll regret it if you don't give someone a chance. Though I'll tell you this, no person in this world will ever be fully worthy of you, little Em. And even if it's true and you don't find one, your life will still be full of adventures."

Mel didn't think she was that great, but whatever had happened between Harry and she felt right, it felt natural, she'd been able to see a future with the boy. Then again, that could've been her childish and gullible self thinking that her first love was going to last forever. Maybe, if she were to try hard enough, she'd be able to see someone taking Harry's place.

"Have you ever been in love?" Then she added rather bashfully. "I mean, not that I have, but you know..."

Sirius cleared his throat.

"It was a long time ago. Long before leaving Hogwarts... It wasn't meant to be, nor my place."

They fell in comfortable silence, watching Buckbead nibble some bones.

"If you really want to help me," Mel started. "You can teach me how to avoid detention..."

"Nice try," Sirius laughed. "Emily warned me about you... My official answer is no."

"What about your off-the-record answer?" She inquired, standing up at the same time as him.

"Only the days Mily's not in the house."

Kreacher kept insisting on following her around as if she were a criminal, making sure she wasn't touching any of his old trinkets. She didn't have any interest in doing so; everything had dark magic, she'd sense it without even having to touch them.

On a normal day, she'd go to the attic to spend time with Buckbeak, sometimes Sirius would make tea and they'd sit there talking about his adventures in Hogwarts. He'd tried several times to ask her about Harry, but she would ignore him every time.

Dumbledore visited one morning to ask her to keep it all a secret, what they were doing there, meaning that if she was planning on sending letters to Harry, she wasn't allowed to talk about the Order. But Mel wasn't writing to him at all, and her letters to Hermione and Ron were always vague. Both of them were under the impression that Mel, true to her nature, was keeping an updated knowledge on Harry's whereabouts, that she didn't confirm nor denied.

Erick wrote to her a week after she'd moved to Grimmauld Place. Anne went completely unmentioned, but that was expected. He was busy looking for young supporters, things got a bit complicated when Eliot Flint got sick again and Erick had to look after him. He seemed to be having just as a dreadful summer as she was.

It wasn't that her mother, Lupin, and Sirius would leave her to rot inside this huge house, but they were adults who had their minds set on important matters, and she had nothing to do but overthink about him.

She still had feelings, but she was doing her best to bury them. Mel was hoping that once in Hogwarts she'd find a way to be okay with his existence. She didn't want to get rid of him altogether, that was impossible.

"I take that you're having a rough morning?" Sirius spoke from the doorway.

Mel gave a start, looking up from her seat at the kitchen table.

"I had a nightmare," She said drowsily.

"Same as before?" Sirius knew about her dreams, but that day she didn't want to talk about them. Today all she wanted to do was to sit in silence and drink her coffee.

"Have you had breakfast already?"

"No. I came here so Kreacher would stop nagging about me trying to steal the rubbish he keeps in the living room."

Sirius chuckled, walking up to the stove.

"Maybe if you praise my mother's portrait he'll stop..."

"Would love to, but I'm not a good liar."

"I can help you with that," He turned around for a moment. "Don't laugh when you speak, don't smile– if someone accuses you of causing mischief, act like it was the most insulting thing you've ever heard."

"What if they don't buy it?"

"Confidence is key, Mel. If you believe it, then it's done."

"Sirius, you're not giving my daughter bad advice, are you?" Emily walked in.

"Not at all," Sirius said, feigning surprise. "It shocks me that you think so, the only thing I want for Mel is her well being!"

"He's good..." Mel snickered.

"You have to pick your battles wisely, Paddie. A fifteen-year-old, or an experienced witch that's old enough to hex you," Emily warned him.

"I'll trust my luck," Sirius smirked.

"I got Molly's answer by the way," She ignored him, "The Weasleys will be here next Tuesday."

"Hang on... where will everyone sleep? I know the place is big, but..."

"Ginny can sleep with you," Emily started, "Ron can sleep in Phineas' room, the twins can sleep in the room next door to yours– Molly and Arthur can stay in Walburga's room..."

"But Sirius is in that room," Mel tilted her head.

"Yeah..." Emily glanced anxiously towards the man. "Sirius will take my room. I spend the night outside anyway, remember? Like uncle Lupin."

"But sometimes you don't."

"Little Em," Sirius told her. "Don't worry, your mother and I will make sure everyone's comfortable. As much as this bloody house can be..."

Mel knew Sirius was less than happy about spending his days locked up in the house where he'd lived the worse years of his life, but he was glad to have her, or at least he'd said as much. According to him, Mel was a lovely housemate.

She also knew there was something going on between the two adults. She could see it in the way Sirius would stare at her mother when she wasn't paying attention, and the way her mother would look more cheerful than usual after talking to him. The nights where she had to eat with the two blatantly flirting felt like personal karma from all those months she'd spent recklessly ogling at Harry in front of her friends.

"Can Hermione come too?" Mel asked.

"D'you think she'll want to come to this musty old place?"

"Please?"

Sirius sighed.

"Look at those eyes, Mily. I can't say no to those eyes!"

"Those are my eyes," The woman crossed her arms. "I can."

"I got my father's smile though," She said cheekily. "Please? It could be my first birthday surrounded by friends!"

"You heard that, Mily? Her birthday," Sirius said without missing a beat. "Are you going to deny such a simple request to your only daughter?"

"Oh, you two are unbelievable!"

"Is that a yes?"

"You have five minutes to write that letter and send it– Wipe that smirk off your face, Black. You're washing the dishes tonight."

Mel and Sirius high-fived, laughing at Emily's annoyance.

"And here's where we'll be sleeping!" Mel dragged Hermione into the room.

The house was definitely more fun now that the Weasleys and Hermione were there, from time to time some members of the order would visit as well as her uncle. The place almost felt like home.

"You're not sleeping with your mum?"

"My mum and Sirius share–" She stopped abruptly. "Mum goes out a lot, sometimes when she's here Sirius will give her his room so she can take the bed and he sleeps on the couch."

"Ginny sleeps here too?" Hermione examined the jumpers laying around on the other bed.

"Yeah!"

"How is she? She's over Harry now?" Hermione smiled. "She's okay with him liking you and all?"

Mel groaned internally. This was going to be a long month if people kept asking her about Harry.

"Harry doesn't like me."

"Please, Mel–"

"No," The girl interrupted. "I actually talked to him this time. Don't ask. It's better if we just forget it."

Hermione stared at her in shock.

"I–I could've sworn he... that he..."

"'Mione," Mel stared at her. "Forget it."

Hermione nodded, sitting down at the edge of the bed.

"Careful with the twins, by the way," She continued calmly. "They're free to do magic now, and they're out of control."

"I'll keep that in mind."

Ginny and Hermione were acting oddly ever since they found out she wasn't talking to Harry. They had the right to be, it was strange to see how unfeeling she was about being so far away from her former best friend. The twins and Ron, on the other hand, weren't that worried. They thought it was her way of coping and, in a way, it was.

They kept asking a lot of questions about Erick though, whether if he was to be trusted and exactly how much could they get away with. Mel thought it was funny, so she answered as many questions as she could.

Her birthday passed without much of a fuss, suddenly she was fifteen and just as quickly, Harry was too, but he wasn't there to celebrate. For the first time in weeks, she wished he could be there with them, she didn't dislike him as much as to wish him a bad birthday.

Hermione and Ron started to write to him. She tried to write a Happy Birthday note but it sounded stupid, she knew it'd be far from happy, all alone in Privet Drive. That night he would open his window only to see hers completely shut.

Erick's present had been one of those old radios his Grandad used to make with a note that said 'So you can practice your dancing' signed with two E's. She and the twins used it a lot while working on their products, that way it would drown the noise and their mothers wouldn't suspect as much. Mrs Weasley was on edge lately, Percy and his father had gotten into a real nasty fight and now the boy was gone, it had the poor woman in a terrible state.

One night after dinner, Fred walked into her room.

"Hey," She said without looking up. "Erick told me there's a station where they do these radio novels? I'm trying to find them, bet they're hilarious..." She said while toying with the buttons of the object.

"You're all right?" He asked, sitting next to her.

"Brilliant."

It was a lie. She'd been having a terrible headache for the past twenty minutes, probably because of the lack of sleep and the white noise.

"I'm not the best talker, and you don't have to say anything, but–"

"Not you too, Fred," Mel rolled her eyes, turning off the radio. "I told you I'm fine–"

"Exactly. I'd never seen you so calm about leaving Harry before, there must be something," He raised a brow.

"It's called growing up," She scoffed. "He's capable of looking after himself. You know it, I know it..."

"A real grown-up wouldn't avoid confrontation."

"That's rich coming from you, considering you keep hiding your products away from mummy."

"That's not fair, you know it's a safety measure!"

"Okay then," Mel stood up. "This is my safety measure. I don't talk about things that don't concern others..."

Fred caught her wrist and stopped her from leaving.

"Lady..."

"Using my nickname in that aching voice won't change my mind," She raised a brow. "Let go."

"Don't be grumpy, you're starting to sound real' bossy and you haven't gotten the Prefect badge yet!"

"Fred..." She tried to move. "Please, my head is killing me..."

"Did you guys fight?" He tilted his head, finally letting go. "I don't get why you fancy him if you're always bickering..."

"I don't like Harry."

"Yeah, right," Fred laughed.

"I don't," She tried to follow Sirius' advice and kept a neutral expression. "We went to the ball as friends. He saved me during the second task because I was his friend. What Skeeter wrote was rubbish, I don't fancy him."

"If you insist," Fred shrugged, but she could see he wasn't buying it.

He stood up as well and she realized, with a strange sense of accomplishment, that she was tall enough to reach his chin. She was about to point that out when something completely different came out.

"Why did you ask me to the ball?"

"What?"

"You said it was because you thought it'd be fun. Was that it?"

"Why does it matter?"

That was a good question.

Why did it matter?

But also, why not Fred? He was handsome, funny, smart...

It wasn't that she didn't like him, it was that she hadn't picked him. Sirius said there was more than one person for her, she just had to find them. Mel wasn't ready, but she would eventually, and if she could pick...

"It doesn't," Mel sighed. "I was curious, that's all. Ron used to think you fancied me, you know? I told them it was stupid..."

"Well, not stupid," Fred was quick to correct. "Just... I don't know, unlikely."

"Am I unworthy of your affection?" She joked.

He eyed her intently, like pondering the idea she had put out there. Suddenly, her mother stormed into the room.

"Harry was attacked," The woman blurted out.

"What?" Mel snapped, walking away from Fred.

"He's all right, but he used magic. The ministry has been looking for an excuse to get him– I'm afraid he just gave them one."

"Get him?"

"If we don't do something, he'll be expelled from Hogwarts."

"How– we're not– Do what?" She stammered.

"They're bringing him here," Her mother replied. "Harry's coming."

Next Chapter —>

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#twoidiots writing #hp fanfic #Harry Potter #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter xoc #WITT fic

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nerdypanda3126 · 4 years

Note

congrant on 100 followers! can i have 23 + ladrien? *chanting* pillowfort ladrien pillowfort ladrien pillowfort ladr

23. “Let’s make a pillow fort. It’ll be great.”

Ladrien! Ladrien! I’m so happy someone requested Ladrien! ^^ Hope you like it Poppy!

Pillow Fort Comfort

Read on Ao3

Adrien sighed as he fell into his desk chair. What a day. He’d sent the video to his friends to thank them for their kind thoughts. He’d apologized to Plagg and the kwami had subsequently locked himself in his cheese cabinet. His father was in his study, as per usual. Everything was back to normal.

He laid his cheek on the desk and wiggled his mouse to dispel his screensaver so he could see the picture of his mom on his desktop. Normal. Or at least what had been normal for the past year. He sat back up to look over the picture, trying to find the similarities between him and his mom. Ladybug had told him once that he had his mom’s eyes. He touched his fingertips to the screen.

The fact that his friends had wanted to cheer him up was a small pinprick of light in the day. And the akuma battle and getting to see Ladybug was at least a distraction. Still. He wished he could’ve seen the messages they had tried sending.

He sighed and let his fingers slide down the screen. Missing. It was worse somehow than if she had died. There was always the lingering hope that maybe someday. Someday she’d miraculously return. He knew his father still held onto that hope. It was hard not to. They couldn’t even have a proper funeral; his father had put up the statue in the garden and said they mustn’t forget her. In a way, he was jealous of Félix. At least he knew for sure his father was gone.

Now that he was alone, he laid his forehead on the cool metal of his desk and let the tears he’d been holding start to seep down his cheeks.

There was a soft knock on his window. His ears perked at the sound, but he didn’t think it would be what he hoped it was. It was probably just a stray pigeon tapping against the glass. But when the knock was repeated, louder and more insistent, he raised his eyes to look.

Ladybug was hanging from her yoyo secured somewhere on the roof. She waved when she caught his eye. He scrambled off his desk chair to the window he always kept open. She swung over easily and perched on the ledge.

“Ladybug? What are you doing here? Is there an akuma?”

“Well, no…” she started cautiously, “but your friends… um, they asked me to check on you. In case.”

Her eyes scanned over his face and she reached out to touch a gloved hand to his cheek, but she pulled away at the last second, blushing shyly.

He touched his own fingers to his cheek and they came away wet. He wiped his tears away with the heel of his hand hurriedly. That seemed to settle her resolve and she stepped down from the ledge to be next to him.

“That boy today that looked like you. He was your cousin?” she asked after a pause.

“Félix. Yeah.” Adrien grimaced.

She nodded thoughtfully. “It’s awful, what he did. Your friends told me about their videos.”

He couldn’t agree with her that it was awful. Félix was grieving. It wasn’t his fault he was acting out. “I would’ve really liked to see them,” he said instead. “Especially Marinette’s.”

Her eyes went as wide as dinner plates. “M-Marinette’s? Why?”

He waved her over to sit on the couch instead of standing by the window, but she seemed embarrassed for some reason. He sat anyway. “She always seems a bit uncomfortable around me. But she’s the nicest person I know. I’m sure whatever she said would’ve been amazing.”

For some reason, Ladybug blushed a deep crimson. She stepped into his room and started looking around curiously, but it seemed like it was a distraction of some sort. A way to turn away from him to get her bearings back.

“This place is huge,” she said with a touch of wonder. “I bet you could make the best pillow forts with all this space.”

He shrugged. “I wouldn’t know. I’ve—I mean, I’ve never really tried.”

“You’ve never…?” She turned back to look at him incredulously.

Another shrug and he looked away. He didn’t really want to explain that Chloé had been his closest childhood friend and she’d been more interested in playing house or dress up at the hotel.

A pillow hit the side of his head and slumped to his side. Ladybug was grinning by his bed, having lobbed one of his pillows at him like a softball. He hadn’t even heard her move.

“Let’s make a pillow fort! It’ll be great.”

“I don’t… I mean… don’t you have superhero things to do?” He blushed as soon as the words were out of his mouth. Ladybug was in his room offering to spend time with him and he was trying to shoo her out the window?

She waved her hand at him dismissively, but she was still smiling. “Pillow fort first, superhero things later. Now. We need materials.” She scanned his room like she would for her Lucky Charm, her eyes flicking from point to point before they settled on him again. “Couch cushions.” She pointed and he stood to follow her direction.

“Um... are those the only pillows and blankets you have? On your bed?” Underneath her authority there was a shy hesitance to her question.

“I’m sure I have some more stashed away somewhere around here.”

“Do you mind if I look?”

His eyes were on his task as he disassembled the couch, but he hummed his assent. He heard her opening cabinets and bolted upright, remembering at the last second to tell her that there was one she shouldn’t-

And that was the one she was holding open. Plagg’s cheese cabinet. He could almost picture Plagg’s sheepish grin as he was discovered. Ladybug’s bluebell eyes met Adrien’s, shocked.

He froze in place and held his breath as he waited. Maybe Plagg had had enough sense to phase into the cabinet. Maybe she just thought he was a cheese hoarder. He winced. That wasn’t much better.

Whether she had or hadn’t found a little black cat kwami gorging himself on smelly cheese, she shut the cabinet doors resolutely and sat back on her heels. She opened her mouth once, then closed it again. She bit the inside of her cheek as she thought and her nose wrinkled adorably. When her eyes met his again, they were cautious—hesitant, even.

“Adrien?”

He swallowed thickly. “Yes?”

She let her breath out as she seemed to come to a conclusion or a decision, he couldn’t tell which.

“I can’t find any other blankets.”

“That’s okay.” He let out a nervous chuckle and started putting the couch cushions back. “It’s not a big deal.”

She huffed and stood. “I said we’re making a pillow fort. We’re making a pillow fort.” She tapped her foot impatiently as she looked around again.

“Hang on. I’ve got it.” She ran over to the window and paused as she pulled her yoyo off her hip. “I’ll be back, okay?”

He couldn’t help the dreamy grin that spread across his face as he nodded. Her answering blush pinked her cheeks before she slung her yoyo out the window and was gone.

***

She came back about an hour later. He had started practicing his piano, more out of force of habit and to dispel his nervous energy than anything else. He heard her light step as she came in, but kept playing to try to focus. Did she know? Did she suspect? She’d at least seen the pile of cheese, right? Ladybug was smart; that might be enough for her to connect the dots. He missed a few notes while he was preoccupied and stopped abruptly.

Ladybug had crept up to the piano to watch. When he turned to face her, she blushed as red as her suit.

“That was really pretty, what you were playing?”

“Thanks.” His hand found the nape of his neck and he rubbed at it self-consciously. “It was my mom’s favorite.”

She didn’t answer, but she offered him her hand. “I have a surprise for you.”

He accepted her hand and stood up. She blushed before she tugged him over to the window and then he was pressed close to her side. His hand fell around her waist on instinct as she slung her yoyo and zipped away.

She dropped to what seemed like a random rooftop and led the way over to an alcove that was hidden by one blanket draped across the entrance and another over the top. She pulled the blanket aside and showed him the mound of pillows waiting to be jumped into. She had also strung colored lights inside, which cast a warm glow over everything. He ducked under her arm to sit down and she followed, dropping the blanket behind her and cutting out the world.

She was painfully close when she sat, and he couldn’t tell if it was just a really warm night or if he’d started blushing. She reached around him and pulled out a thermos she’d set aside and two mugs.

“It’s more fun to make them together,” she explained quietly, “but I had to get some of this stuff… well… you know. Secret identity and all that.” She handed him a steaming mug of what smelled like hot chocolate. He glanced around again. The lights he recognized from Marinette’s balcony, and the cat pillow they were leaning back against was hers, too.

With a sideways glance at Ladybug, he decided not to ruin her surprise. It was maybe a conversation for another time.

He sipped his hot chocolate carefully. She leaned back into the pillow and tapped at her yoyo screen until quiet music filled their little space.

“I thought to get a projector up here, and we could watch a movie, but I didn’t want to keep you waiting too long.”

He held the mug between his hands and Marinette’s warmth was emanating from it. The entire space smelled like her, like the bakery, like warm sugar. He smiled even as tears started to slip down his cheeks again. “Next time, maybe.” He sniffed and wiped his eyes with his thumbs. “Thank you, Ladybug. This is... “ he looked around, smiling like an idiot. “This is amazing.”

#miraculous ladybug #mlb fic #ml fic #ladrien #adrien agreste #marinette dupain cheng #luck of the draw

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redrobinhoods · 3 years

Text

Sticks and Stones | Chapter 3, cut to pieces

AO3 Link | 2,500 words (approx) | Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 4

A/N: I have moved on from naming clones after the NATO phonetic alphabet to names inspired by those of the International phonetic alphabet. Character growth.

For Fox and Riyo’s POVs, 'Whumptober 2020' No 3 [X] and No 10 [X]

Chapter Summary: Bounty hunters have broken into the Senate with Senator Chuchi on their list of demands.

Stone blinked sleepily at the display before him as he barked orders at the surrounding men. “You four, lieutenants, I want each of you to escort our targeted senators to saferooms. Commander Fox will check in with you shortly.” It was too damn early for this. Eight bounty hunters in the Senate, two in the getaway vehicle on the docks, and too many incompetent Senate Guards to count. He leaned further over Bravo’s shoulder at the security terminals as he let scenarios play out in his head. “You three, you’ll be going with Fox to check on the senators. Bravo, tell two of your squads to be ready to engage when the Senate Guard fails.”

“Sir.” Bravo acknowledged as he reached for his comm.

“The Chancellor calls.” Thire said as he strode out from his office. “I’m sorry, Stone.”

“Keep him safe, Thire.” Stone clapped Thire on the shoulder as he walked past.

“I’ll have my comm on.” Thire assured him.

“Kilo, get Commander Fox in here.” Fox would have seen the alarm by now. He’d had enough time to mentally prepare. Stone watched as Kilo crossed the room to Fox’s office, barely able to hear their conversation but still listening.

“Bounty hunters in the auditorium.”

“Demands?”

“The Senators from Kuat, Lorrd, Humbarine, and Pantora.”

There was a clatter that could only be Fox shooting to his feet and scrambling for his helmet. “Senator Chuchi?”

“Yes. Isn’t that your girl, sir?”

“Shut up.” Kilo was close enough to the doorway that Stone could watch as Fox shouldered the other man out of the way, much to Kilo’s amusement.

Stone turned back to the terminals. “Already sent some lieutenants to escort the senators to saferooms. I’ve got three of the boys ready for you. I want you four checking in on the senators over the course of the ordeal. The Senate Guard will be engaging the bounty hunters, but I have a squad at the ready for when they ultimately fail. Thire’s with the Chancellor.”

“What would I do without you?” Fox shook his head as he donned his helmet and nodded to the three men waiting behind Stone.

Stone waved them off. “More paperwork.” He didn’t want to truly think of what Fox would do if he died. He only hoped that when the day came, Fox still had Thire and Senator Chuchi to fall back on.

He watched on the terminals as Fox and their men found Senator Danu, then Alavar, then Breemu, working from the saferoom closest to the Guard offices to the one further, where Senator Chuchi had gone. At each saferoom, Fox left one of the men Stone had given him until it was just him approaching the saferoom where Chuchi was. Or wasn’t. Stone bit the inside of his lip as he watched the Mirialan bounty hunter overpower the Coruscant Guard lieutenant and grab Senator Chuchi by the wrist. Stone leaned forward, trying not to breath down Bravo’s neck, as he watched the bounty hunter drag Senator Chuchi away. They rounded a corner seconds before Fox ran into the frame, shoulders bristling when he realized what had happened.

Stone pressed down on his comm button. “Go down the hall, take the third right. You’ll see them. Want backup?”

“If you can spare the men.” Fox growled as he drew one of his blasters and set off after them.

Stone would have never considered himself a sadist, but he felt a small rise of satisfaction knowing what was about to befall the bounty hunter. He nearly switched the screens to another area of interest before he caught Kilo’s eye as the man waited for more orders. Kilo shook his head slowly, his eyes pleading.

“Kilo, get your men and move in on Fox’s position.” Stone wished he could have encouraged the betting ring’s behavior, but not at the risk of the life of the woman Fox loved.

“Yes, sir.” Kilo didn’t protest.

“Wait.” A flash of movement on the screen had caught Stone’s eye. Fox had engaged, and the bounty hunter had reacted in turn, leveling his blaster at Senator Chuchi’s head. Stone wished that the security feeds had audio as Fox tried to reason with the bounty hunter. The Mirialan’s gun lowered, and Fox fired as Senator Chuchi doubled over in pain, clutching a wounded arm as the bounty hunter fell to the floor.

Fox was at Senator Chuchi’s side in a heartbeat. “Belay backup, Stone. It’s over.” He had the senator leaning against him as he fumbled for his medical kit. Stone knew that he shouldn’t be watching this, that he should turn off the monitor and grant them a moment of privacy, but he couldn’t help watching as Fox began to gently apply a bacta patch to both the entrance and exit wound on Senator Chuchi’s arm. They were talking, or at least Senator Chuchi was. Her face beamed up at Fox and when she placed her hand into his, her smile shone just as bright. When she reached up to remove Fox’s helmet, Stone could feel Kilo at his shoulder, and when she leaned up towards Fox, Stone could’ve sworn all the breathing in the room around him stopped. Fox leaned down to meet her and all the tension in the room melted away as the men released their breath. Then there were a few cheers and whoops as Fox raised a hand to the nape of Senator Chuchi’s neck, giving in entirely to what he must know his fate to be. Stone chuckled as Kilo walked away, muttering something about cashing in a bet.

“How long have you known, sir?” Bravo asked, leaning back in his chair.

“Since he took two shots of blasterfire for her.” Stone answered matter-of-factly. “And you should’ve seen her when he was in bacta. She was distraught.”

“Wish I had a woman like that, sir!”

Stone didn’t turn around. “And you’ll keep wishing that, Sergeant. Soap is a luxury that you can more than afford.” When a chuckle rose in the office around them, taking the attention off of the terminals, Stone signaled to Bravo to change channels. “Thanks, Captain.”

“Fox saved my life on Geonosis, sir. It’s the least I can do.”

“Mm, I beg to differ.” Stone leaned back over Bravo’s shoulder to point to one of the feeds that had just been pulled up. “I thought the Senate Guard created a chokepoint here.”

“Must’ve retreated and not called for backup.” As if he could read Stone’s mind, Bravo reached for his helmet.

“Take Kilo and three of his men with you.” Stone squeezed Bravo’s shoulder as he rose from the chair. “I’ll be right behind you.”

---

Stone’s footsteps clattered off the walls of the empty Senate halls as he ran ahead of the men he had assembled to where the senators were sheltered, protected by the Senate Guard.

“Commander Stone.” One of the men standing before the doors greeted him.

“Captain Taggart. Glad to see one bastion of the Blue Guard still stands.”

“Glad to see that the Red Guard is running to their deaths as always.”

“Oh, no, the rest of us are walking.” Stone pulled out the datapad he had tucked under his arm and held it out to the captain. “Our comms are being jammed across certain hallways so we couldn’t reach you. Files on the bounty hunters. Fox neutralized one, but there’s still seven more in the building.”

“Six. One of your boys neutralized another, he’s with Alavar now if you want to talk to him.” Taggart inclined his helmet towards the saferoom. “Fox isn’t here. He dropped off Chuchi and ran off to Maker knows where while comming Thire.”

“Taggart, you’re my favorite Defender.”

“Wish I could say you were my favorite Corrie.” Taggart smirked. “But I really like that trooper that mooned my boys the other week.”

Stone cringed though he knew Taggart wouldn’t see it. “Let’s talk about that later. My boys are almost here. I have one of my best squads engaging the bounty hunters now. I’ll comm you when it’s over.”

“What if they’re still jamming the comms?”

“Twenty minutes. We’re dragging the shields in for you. If there’s any hostiles still running around these halls after twenty minutes, the senators can cower while our boys take them. Corries don’t lose chokepoints.”

Now it was Taggart’s turn to cringe. “Did another blue squad retreat?”

“If Fox hadn’t gone for Danu first, I’d rather not think of the consequences.” Stone could hear the footsteps of his men and the clash of shields against calf plates echoing down the halls now. Shieldsmen and Stone’s personal squad of riot troopers could always be picked out amongst the Guard from the marks on their armor that the shields left behind when they bumped against the easily scoured plastoid. “I’m taking my three lieutenants. The senators will be fine without them.” He tapped out a quick message on his comm and turned on his heel, leaving Taggart behind. His men would be right behind him.

The three lieutenants caught up before they reached the Senate Auditorium. If they bounty hunters wanted to escape, they would have to come through here. And it seems they did. Stone gritted his teeth together as a cry of pain from one of his brothers reached him as they reached the doorway. His grip tightened on his blaster as he peeked around the doorway.

“Do we kill them now, boss?” One of the bounty hunter’s voices carried over. Of the six, there were two left, one of which held a bloody knife.

Stone allowed his training to take over rather than wonder which of his brothers’ blood coated the blade. “Let’s take them.”

“No, just leave th-.” The bounty hunter was stopped midsentence by a shot from Stone’s blaster. Ash similarly felled the other bounty hunter, and the four men moved into the room. Six bounty hunters and six clones lay on the plush carpet where they fell. Stone heard the click of a comm as one of the lieutenants called for a medic. He knelt by the first of his men he reached.

“Commander.” Kilo relaxed under his touch. “We failed you, sir.”

“You could never fail me.” Stone titled his helmet to scan Kilo’s body for injuries. He found the sear of blasterfire he was looking for on Kilo’s thigh.

“I’m fine, sir. Just need a bit of bacta.”

“We have medics on the way.” Stone raised his head to look around. Barr was kneeling over the other wounded trooper from Kilo’s squad. The other two were dead, one laying in a still-growing pool of blood. Stone slowly rose to see over Barr to where Fox and Bravo lay. Ash and Faryn were at Fox’s side, one holding Fox’s heaving shoulders down as the other pinned Fox with his leg as he held the torn skin of Fox’s stomach together. Fox’s blood coated the three of them. Past them, Bravo lay still with one hand laying over another bloody stomach wound. Stone hurried over to his side to assess the injury.

“Stone.” Bravo murmured as he knelt by his side.

“Ssh, save your strength.” Stone reached down to press his own hands to the wound before he stopped, realizing what Bravo already knew. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.” Bravo paused as Stone gently removed his helmet. “I lasted longer than Fox.”

Stone removed his own helmet and gathered Bravo into his arms. “I’ll tell everyone that. They’ll want to hear all about how my captain outlasted our red-painted commander.”

In the silence that followed, Stone could hear Faryn talking to Fox. “Just hang in there, Commander, so we can discuss the bill later.”

When Bravo’s eyes closed, Stone lowered his head to press their foreheads together as he listened to Bravo breathe his last breaths. “Rest easy, my brother.” He whispered when Bravo stilled, pressing a light kiss to his brother’s forehead before replacing his helmet and lowering his body to the floor. He would mourn later.

“Commander Stone!” Faryn called out. “We’re losing Commander Fox.”

“No, we’re not.” Stone growled as he made his way to Fox’s side with Faryn. “He’s got a woman to return home to.”

“He does?” Barr exclaimed from Kilo’s side.

“Ask the boys in the office later.” Stone looked down into the blank gaze of Fox’s visor. “Where are those medics?” This would not be Fox’s end. Stone would will him to stay alive if he had to.

None of the men answered him.

Stone continued to look down upon Fox, watching the shallow rise and fall of his chest. He raised his comm to call Taggart and only found static. It had nearly been twenty minutes. The Senate Guard wouldn’t be so competent enough to route the senators around the auditorium. Senator Chuchi was there, and she would have to walk out to find the man she loved bleeding out. Stone lowered his head to Fox’s helmet, resting his forehead in the area over Fox’s visor. He didn’t want to imagine his brother’s face under the helmet, whether or not his skin was as pale as Bravo’s had been. “Stay with me.”

“Sir!” Ash called out. Stone raised his head to see a team of medics running into the room with stretchers and breathed a sigh of relief.

He stood, pointing the medics to the three men who still lived and taking the sheets they had brought with them to cover the bodies. Those would be recovered later. Everything blurred together until he found himself standing with his lieutenants as their wounded were carted away, just in time for the mass of senators to enter the room, escorted by Red and Blue guardsmen and desperate to return back to their offices. Though he was looking for the small, blue Pantoran in the throng of beings, he didn’t see her until she broke from the crowd to run after the medics. With a sigh, he followed after her until he found himself standing in the doorway watching her stare after the medical transport as it disappeared into the trafficked skies of Coruscant. When it was gone, she raised her hands and Stone felt his stomach twist when he saw that they were stained with Fox’s blood.

“Senator Chuchi?”

She whirled around to face him with a look of alarm on her face. “Commander Stone, are you okay?”

Stone looked down at himself to see his armor stained with Bravo’s blood. “I’m uninjured. It’s not my-.” It was his blood. “It didn’t come from me.”

Riyo nodded slowly before walking over to him and wrapping her arms around him, pulling herself to his chest. Stone hesitated for a moment before hesitantly wrapping his arms around her. This was Senator Chuchi, but she was also the woman that his brother loved. He could play at humanity for her, for Fox.

#commander stone #commander fox #riyo chuchi #foxiyo #my fics #sticks and stones fic

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guessimjoiningthespidermanfandom · 3 years

Text

The Zone

Peter Parker x bisexual!reader

Peter Parker x fem!reader

Peter Parker x black!reader

Peter Parker x villain!reader

Warnings: Mentions of violence, bruising, allusions to corrupt government, drug use, underage drinking, knives, mentions of neo-nazis, bad eating and sleeping habits, a mention of sex, mentions of death and the dead.

Word Count: 3.7k

Songs: Changes- Charles Bradley, 4 Morant- Doja Cat, Prey- The Neighborhood, Stay Together- Noah Cyrus, Without me- Eminem, Colors- Halsey, Where’s My Juul??-Full Tac, Pork Soda-Glass Animals, Everyday- A$AP Rocky, Facts- Kanye West, Why’d You Only Call Me When You’re High?, Immortal- J.Cole, High Enough- K,Flay, Drugs- UPSAHL.

A/N: This is pretty short but it’s also the fasest I’ve released a chapter after the other was released.

Series Masterlist Previous Part Next Part

I smashed the keypad multiple times with the handle of a knife before the metal finally fell. I pulled all the wires out before hearing the words ‘System Malfunction’.

If I hadn’t disarmed the alarm system already. I’d probably be worried right about now. I manually slid open the cell door.

That’s when she glanced up at me.

“Took you look enough,” She smirked.

“I could’ve gotten you out sooner if you didn’t get your ass locked up in solitary,” I tossed her the Black Cat suit.

“You know I still don’t know your name or what you look like,” She stated pulling the suit up “and I don’t think that's fair seeing as you know those things about me,” She cooed.

I pulled my mask over my face “It’s Y/N. Happy now?”

“Wow I always knew your voice sounded attractive, matches the face,”

“Okay, we can kiss my ass later but now we have about 2 minutes to get out before the guards come and get us,”

Leaving the building the same way I came in through the vent. You’d think they’d have better security. I was thankful they didn’t when we finally reached the car.

“Who’s car is this?” Felicia asked hopping in the passenger seat.

“Dunno,” I said, putting the car in the drive.

“Hold on tight,” I warned before ramming into the fence at full speed successfully knocking it down.

I was definitely not holding my breath that whole time. And I definitely was not doubting myself. Okay maybe I was, a little.

“I’m surprised that actually worked, none of this was planned at all,” I laughed in relief.

She laughed along with me

“Plans are for the ‘good guys’, if you’re smart enough you don’t need plans,”

“If that’s not the truth,” I replied turning onto a deserted road “You owe me again, I’m not counting, but I believe the score’s 3:1,”

She was right, you never need a plan. Second moral to the story is that even “villains” never work alone. I know I always talk that “every man for themselves” mess but everyone needs a support team. And for people who supposedly have no morals they haven’t betrayed me yet.

There are the bad guys and then there are the bad guys. The heroes didn’t seem to care which you were, they just wanted you locked up or dead and to get all the glory for it. I think it’s time one of us gets the glory.

“Ow!” I exclaimed, pulling myself out of my thoughts.

“Sorry,” Olivia muttered, “You need to be still,” She said, dabbing a cloth on my leg.

“Well it’s hard to be still when your leg is burning,”

I was expecting some jab or joke like normal but it was silent. She looked up at me and I could see the tears forming in her eyes.

“Y/N…” Her eyes drifted over my bruised and cut up body, her voice breaking.

“You don’t have to worry about me, I promise I’m fine,”

“How am I supposed to believe that when you won’t tell me anything?”

“I don’t tell you anything cause then you’d worry,”

“Well I’m already worried!”

The next day of school was very ordinary. Well as ordinary as it got when you were a kid who was wanted in multiple cities. My body wasn’t as sore as it was the day before, the bruises were clearing up, but honestly these new weapons were no joke. I’d seen them burn straight through buildings and a ferry now. Anyways like I was saying before today was ordinary, nothing exciting unfortunately.

Rich kids in Queens take homecoming a little too seriously. For the most part, I’m not complaining penthouse parties were fun. Rich white kids love their molly.

Harry Osborn was one of those rich kids. If we’re being honest I feel like he does coke on occasion. I don’t think he actually liked homecoming all that much seeing as he’s pretty new to our school. I just think he likes being able to brag about his parties and get wasted at parties.

One of those parties would be the one I was getting ready for right now.

Olivia walked into the bathroom and stood in the doorway. This bathroom was very modern as well as the whole house. Like an art gallery.

“Hey kitten,” I said since she wasn’t going to say anything.

“Hey,”

“Are you sure you don’t want to come?” I asked.

“You know how I feel about Harry’s parties,”

That I did, her dad and Harry’s dad seemed to have some sort of beef. That I didn’t care enough to get into. But Olivia's family took it pretty seriously. I guess I could say Felicia and Olivia’s family. It’s still weird to see them as siblings. It’s not surprising, just weird. Just a weird family of kleptomaniacs.

This isn’t something I say often but I looked really hot. Like really fucking hot. I had even winged eyeliner. A nice black tube top. A pastel pink tennis skirt. I had black thong type thing on, you could see the thin straps resting on my waist from above the skirt. It wasn’t like I was trying to get fucked or anything because I was not planning on being the slightest bit of sober.

I also had thigh high socks on but only because they could conceal a knife and I’d been on high alert lately. Just because I wasn’t going to be sober didn’t mean I couldn’t protect myself. It's a sort of muscle memory when it comes to knives, at least with me

If I wore this anywhere near the kids at my old school they’d probably call me a wannabe white girl, but those kids aren’t there and they have no part of my life anymore.

I just wanted to get so fucked up that I couldn’t think at all.

I couldn’t help but think. That’s all I could do lately. My brain wouldn’t slow down to let me breathe for even one second. I just wanted to breathe and go to bed. I still can’t sleep. At least now I have a valid reason. I don’t like talking about it because it’s not a big deal or anything, but today is the anniversary of-. It’s the day Rose died. No use sugarcoating it. It passes every year, no use being in my feels about it. Couldn’t help it though, every year I’d get sad about it for about 5 minutes until I did so many drugs that I couldn’t blink.

As soon I stepped into the house. I was hit with the buzz I hadn’t felt in a while. I missed it too. It wasn’t like Liz’s “party” her thing could’ve been fun but the whole headache, Vulture thing and lack of drugs made it suck.

Anyways who cares about that. I’d been at this school long enough to know who had molly. I’d either have to flirt with them or pay which I was down for either.

See I knew the chewlery gem rod I had attached to a necklace would come in handy one of these days. Now I wouldn’t bite my mouth.

Only problem is I could still think. Which wasn’t good. There was some sort of jungle juice on the table but I just went straight for a bottle of beer sitting on the counter, because I was shaking too much to pour anything.

Beer has to be the nastiest form of alcohol out there. It looks like pee, tastes like pee, it’s like they didn’t bother trying to mask the taste of yeast in it.

My body was vibrating in a good way as I started talking to people. By the time I’d made small talk with the third person around me. I’d finished the beer and I went back to the kitchen to fill a cup with some form of alcohol and soda I wasn’t picky. Harry must’ve had the same idea.

“Hey,” He said.

“Hey, where’s your groupie,” I said referring to the blonde that’d I seen around him earlier.

“You mean Gwen?” He said, bringing a solo cup to his lips.

“Probably,” I moved over grabbing the orange soda next to me.

“Why’re you wondering, jealous?” He asked being his signature flirtatious self. There was this one time that we… you know. But we were both drunk so it doesn’t count.

“You wish I was jealous,” I rolled my eyes “We both know you're the one obsessed with me,” I laughed.

“Yep, dream about you every night,” He joked back.

I took a sip from my drink squinting as it slightly burned my throat.

“I’m sure you do,” I headed out of the kitchen.

I could feel my brain slowing down as I started to calm. That was until Facts by Kanye came on. Then suddenly it felt like my blood was boiling in my veins and I couldn’t breathe and not in the good way. I made my way to the nearest bathroom and hoped no one was making out in there.

I opened the door and the coast was clear.

I splashed water on my face. When I looked in the mirror my pupils were dilated and my face was flush. Normally my skin tone masked the effects of blushing but not this time.

I wasn’t drunk. Maybe I was but I wasn’t enough. I was still laying on the bathroom floor because it was cold and felt good in contrast against my hot skin. I was going through my phone and landed on Peter’s number. I texted him because I was bored and I can text whoever I want.

you: helo

About thirty seconds later he responded, guess he was already on his phone.

P 😜🤚: Hey

you: do yuo like pengwings

pengns

fck

penguns

penguins

He read the messages and responded rather quickly

P 😜🤚: ?

You okay?

you: yesh im fine d you like penfuins

P 😜🤚: Are you drunk

you: no im nt drunk i m jst hPpy

P 😜🤚: yeah sure, where are you.

Before I could think, I clicked the option to send location. Even if I did think it wouldn’t have done much help. None of my thoughts were coherent. I was actually happy, like really really happy.

I was still laying on the ground when I felt the floor vibrate with the knock at the door.

“Who is it?” I asked.

“Peter,” The voice called out

“Come in!” I said in a sing-songy voice.

He opened the door slowly and looked around before looking down at me.

“Hiii,”

“Hey, what are you doing on the floor,”

I shrugged after slowly pushing off the floor so I wouldn’t lose balance.

“How’d you get here?” Since I know he couldn’t drive.

“I got an Uber,”

“That’s adorable,”

“What’s adorable,”

“You, you spent money on a ride just to come see me,” I pointed out, voice cracking halfway through the sentence as tears started to well in my eyes.

“Wait don’t cry, I’m sorry, did I do something? If I did sorry for whatever it was-”

“No you didn’t do anything, it’s just me,” I moved a hand off the counter I was holding onto for balance before wiping my face. I don’t cry, at least not willingly and definitely not in front of anyone else.

“Well I was going to…” He fiddled with his hands before continuing “I was going to ask if you needed a ride because I didn’t know if you drove here or not and you’re clearly drunk-“

“I’m not drunk!” I said. “I don’t drink how could I be drunk,”

“Okay, but like I was saying do you need a ride?”

I was going to say I didn’t want to leave yet but it’s not like I was doing anything but being pathetic and hanging out in the bathroom.

“Fine, yeah”

Peter opened his mouth like he was about to say something but a knock on the door interrupted. I immediately opened the door and grabbed Peter’s wrist running, for no reason except I felt like it. I bumped into a couple doorways

By the time we’d made it out by the pool Peter was hunched over trying to catch his breath.

I started running toward the water and I could hear a faint

“Y/N don't!” As I was running but it was too late seeing as I was already in the water. I laughed as I broke the surface as I floated on my back.

Peter came over to the edge of the water and squatted down.

“Y/N”

“And nothing hurts anymore I feel kinda free!” I sang splashing around in the pool.

“Y/N”

“We're still the kids we used to be,”

“Y/N!” Peter yelled, snapping my attention back to him.

“Hmm?” I asked.

“You need to get out the pool,”

“I don’t wanna,” I whined.

“Yeah I know but don’t you wanna go home?” He asked.

The last place I’d ever want to go is “home”

“No, get in the pool,”

“Y/N,” He said sternly.

“Pleaseee,”

“Get out the pool it’s cold you’re gonna get sick,”

“Fine…” I made my way begrudgingly to the steps of the pool.

Peter gave me the hoodie he was wearing so I was able to take my skirt and socks off. I put the knife I had in the hoodie pocket.

The last thing I remember is getting in some car.

Oh shit

I woke up in a room that I did not recognize. I swear to God if I got kidnapped again. I sat up quickly and hit my head on something. It was dark but there was a nightlight. Thank God if we’re being honest I’m scared of the dark. Long story I don’t wanna get into it.

I was definitely hungover, headache prominent. It only worsened when I stepped out the room and the light from the TV hit my eyes. I glanced over to Peter laying on the couch.

Oh yeah I forgot about that.

“Hey…” I whispered. He shifted a bit “You awake?”

He sat up and looked at me rubbing his eyes before bombarding me with questions.

“Did you- Are you okay? Does your head hurt? Do you need painkillers? Sorry that I brought you here and didn’t ask. That's really creepy but you were asleep and I didn’t want to wake you because you seemed tired. Again sorry it’s just I didn’t really even know where you lived and I was-“

“Oh my God, shut up!” I interrupted.

He looked stunned, blinking a few times.

“Sorry,” I held my hand to my forehead in exasperation. “Sorry, it’s just you- you were making my head hurt.”

“Oh I’m sorry,”

“No, I promise it’s not you, if it’s okay with you can I go back to sleep? I don’t really feel like going home right now,”

“Yes of course you can!” He sat up and pushed the blanket off of him before standing. “Wait I’ll be right back,” He said. I nodded before hesitantly sitting down on the couch.

He came back rather quickly with a glass of water and some painkillers. I mumbled a quick thank you before taking them.

I yawned, surprised that I was able to actually feel tired. Normally it took at least a few hours before I could sleep if I even got the chance.

“You can take the bed,” Peter informed.

“I just wanna stay right here,” I said lazily.

He tried to scoot over but I already had my arms wrapped around him so I squeezed him tighter. I looked up and his face was tinted red, smiling before I drifted off.

I felt light hit my face and I heard the squeak of a door. I sat up and slowly unwrapped my arms from around Peter. Walking over towards May.

“I’m sorry I didn’t know if it was okay for me to stay here I should’ve called and asked,”

“No, no it’s perfectly fine,”

“Okay…”

“He talks about you all the time you know,”

I smiled at her and she smiled back.

“Thanks for not killing me for being in your house,” I joked. “But I should probably get home anyway,”

I didn’t go home. Mostly because I don’t have an actual home. I didn’t go to any of the almost 13 places I’ve stayed at, at some point either. I went to some shitty hotel. I had enough money to stay for about a week. Which was great I could stay for all of homecoming week then I’d have to find somewhere else to stay before I got more money at least.

The last step for this day was go to Olivia’s house and get my stuff back. I made my way into the house through the back door, and sure enough she was sitting on the couch like parents in movies when they catch you sneaking out.

She eyed the bag in my hand.

“So you’re leaving?”

“I-“ I didn’t get the chance to speak.

“And you weren’t going to tell me, oh okay,”

“Olivia…”

“Where are you gonna stay?”

“I’m going back to my grandma's house,”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, again I’m sorry that I tried to leave without telling you I just-“

“Didn’t want to be interrogated?”

“Yeah…”

”It’s okay, I get it, come give me a hug,”

I moved giving her a hug and she mumbled

“You smell like booze,”

As soon as I got back to the hotel I turned on the movie Frozen. Which I knew was a bad idea because the movie always made me cry.

I ended up crying myself to sleep and by the time I woke up I was late for school. I slept for 18 hours straight.

If I was going to be late might as well have had a reason. So, I got smoothies.

“I love smoothies a lot, but banana is so so strong. Which like makes it pointless to put anything else in it. People should stop saying strawberry and banana smoothie because in reality it’s a BANANA and strawberry smoothie,” I took another sip of my smoothie.

“Damn bitch, you’re saying a lot and fast what’d they put in that smoothie,” Bri said examining the cup before turning to me again “And can I have some?” I laughed before lighty shoving her shoulder.

“Noo! Continue talking you were my reference for my excitement portrait,” MJ said flipping her sketchbook towards me “I’ve missed my one and only chance to see you happy,”

“Now I know you’re not talking, I don’t think anyone has seen you smile ever,”

I slid down the bench of the lunch table

“Whatcha watching Phineas?” I asked Peter. He quickly swiped out the app. “Was it porn?”

“No! Wha- What?”

I patted his shoulder “Relax dude, I was just messing with you,”

That was the last I’d spoken to any of my friends. In all actuality that was the last time I’d spoken to anyone besides the hotel staff. I hadn’t been to school since...what’s today? Wednesday. Well then I hadn’t been to school since 3 days ago. Which also means I haven’t eaten since a week ago?

Okay I know how bad that sounds but it’s not like I’ve been eating nothing. I just haven’t been hungry lately, I have had snacks though like goldfish and chips. I’ve just been too lazy to cook and don’t have the funds to cook. I’ve also been too lazy to fake a smile or whatever so I just haven’t been going to school.

However what I have been and haven’t been eating is the issue of concern here. It’s that alien shit from the Avengers a few years ago is so much deeper than anyone could have ever thought. I’d been in research mode for a while now. I call it the zone, anything you say to me will go unheard, I mean business when I’m in the zone. If I want something to happen it will.

“Okay so, I’ll start with the government flash drive. So the aliens that attacked a while back in 2012 were called Chitauri. So Loki had control of them and was using them as an army. Loki being Thor’s brother and the God of mischief,” I clarified.

''And Loki was attacking because he wanted to be king but his brother was king instead. I mean I think, I don’t really get that part. So there was this thing called the tesseract and it’s supposedly like super powerful. This branch of government called Shield doesn’t want Loki to have this so they keep, then the invasion ensues. This tesseract however is some space stone and Loki used it to bring in the aliens. It’s some sort of infinity stone whatever that means. Howard Stark found the stone in the ocean, because a Stark is always gonna be the one to fuck the world up when they think they’re helping. Then he and someone else founded Project Pegasus-”

“What’s project Pegasus?”

“I don’t really know but I know it stands for potential energy group alternate sources,”

“Oh, so it’s Shield that’s over this… Tesseract?”

“Exactly!” I clapped and the papers with all the information I printed from the flash drive rustled underneath me.

“What are you going on about?” Carmen asked. “Like what’s the bigger picture?”

“That’s the thing! I don’t know, this is like so covered up and coded that I can’t figure it out with information that I have,” I turned towards her “But I will, and that’s where your help comes in,”

“Y/N, when’s the last time you slept?” She tilted her head like those dogs in Minecraft when you have food.

“Last night,” I waved her off.

I looked down at the information I was able to find out about Kingpin since he was mentioned in the video my mom made for me. Apparently she worked for him for a while. So did Felicia but all she’d ever tell me was “He was an ass he did give me a gift I’m grateful for though,”. He had affiliations with everyone.

From what Black Widow released out unto the world he had connections with a Neo Nazi group called HYDRA which brainwashed people from what’ve heard.

Before I’d just wanted to take down the Vulture out of pettiness if we’re being honest, but now. Oh now? I knew I’d have to.

Another paper I’d printed from Kingpin’s affiliations caught my eye.

“Hey Carmen,”

“Hm?”

“Ever been to Vegas?”

Taglist:

@tomdiddlyumptious

#peter parker #peter parker fanfiction #peter parker x reader #mcu x reader #reader x peter parker #Peter Parker x Vigilante!Reader #peter parker x you #peter parker x fem!reader #peter parker x poc reader #peter parker x black!reader #peter parker x bi!reader #peter parker x bisexual!reader #peter parker x thorn #Thorn Series #spiderman x thorn #thorns prick

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redrobinhoood · 4 years

Text

catch me i'm falling | one-shot

A/N: There’s not enough angst in the Foxiyo fandom and I’m here to fix that. Full work posted here, optional AO3 link.

AO3 Link | 1,800 words (approx)

Summary: Riyo regrets the view from her window. All it has ever done is give her a look at her world as it falls apart. [Unrated, Major Character Death]

For the second time in her life, Riyo regretted the view out of her window. The first time, Fox had been called on with the highest priority and run to his command. She had been preparing for bed by herself when she noticed a new light from her bedroom window. Opening the blinds, she had beheld the Jedi Temple in flames. That night, she had sat in her living room until dawn, clutching a cup of tea as she watched the Temple burn. She hadn’t seen Fox again for a week, until he’d appeared at her office with empty eyes and very little to say. Then, he had held her as she cried for all they had lost.

Now, she had been preparing for bed, alone once again, when she heard the muffled explosion. She ran to the living room to watch as a plume of smoke rose from the side of the Jedi Temple. She could’ve sworn she saw a green blade dancing with a red one amongst the smoke. But that was impossible, the Jedi were gone. She saw the patrol transport move towards the blast site and wondered what was going on. She wondered if Fox was there. He had been ordered to secure the Jedi Temple for reasons unknown. Surely he was still on-site. She swallowed the panic rising in her throat, returning to the bathroom to brush out the unnatural curls that her senatorial hairstyling had left behind. Seconds later, the second explosion shook her mirror and she ran back to the window to see smoke rising from a neighborhood bordering the Temple. The holonews held no answers for her. Now, once again, she couldn’t sleep. She slipped on a loose pair of pants over the romper she had been wearing and sat down on the couch to watch the smoke billow into the night.

A knock on the door disturbed her. She glanced towards the clock to check the late hour, then rose and walked to the door. She brought up the image of a white and red clone on her doorstep and pressed the button to speak.

“Hello?”

“Senator Chuchi, it’s Jek.”

Of course it was, she could see very clearly his distinctive marks from wear and tear across his armor. She couldn’t shake the feeling of unease that the late visit had brought to her. Still, it was Jek. She opened the door. “What brings you here at this hour, Jek?” She hadn’t seen him, nor any of the clones besides Fox, in weeks. They had been overwhelmed by the formation of their new Empire and the government was in chaos.

Jek sighed and took off his helmet so that she could see his face. He wasn’t crying, nor had he been crying, but he looked like he was on the verge of bursting into tears. “Thire sent me. Commander Fox is dead.”

For a moment, she wondered who Commander Fox was and why she would want to know if he was dead. Then it hit her that it was her Fox, her beloved commander, and she felt something inside her break. Jek reached out for her as she swayed, steadying her in his arms. She wrapped her arms around his neck for support, focusing her gaze on the looping tattoo on his neck as she tried to remember how to balance on her legs, how to stand. She’d known that this day may come, that every time she said goodbye to Fox it could be for the last time, but nothing could’ve prepared her for the sheer numbness that was filling her.

“I want to see his body.” The words spilled out before she could think of them in her mind. She almost hoped that he would refuse her, allow her last memory of Fox to be of him leaning down over her on the couch, afternoon sunlight streaming across his features, to kiss her before departing to his station. Was that really only hours ago?

Jek took a deep breath, pulling her closer into a proper hug. “Okay.”

---

He brought her to the wreckage of the patrol transport she had heard crash earlier. Small fires still burnt amongst the twisted remains and the smell of burning metal filled the area. Jek refused to leave the speeder, but pointed her to the white and red armor of Commander Thire, who was talking with the fire suppression team. She made her way over to him, wishing she’d grabbed something with sleeves so that she could’ve covered her nose. He noticed her before she was upon them and stepped back to greet her.

“Riyo.” He sounded tired. The blatant use of her name threw her off for a moment, but she pushed on to stand beside him.

“Thire.” How long had it been since she’d seen him? She knew that he had been involved with the hunt for the Jedi who had attempted to assassinate the then Chancellor, taking perhaps the most proactive role in the Coruscant Guard in the Jedi Purge besides Commander Stone, who had been killed at the Jedi Temple on the night it burned. She wondered how he could sleep at night. Maybe he couldn’t.

She turned her attention from the commander into the wreckage beside them. There were scattered bits of burnt plastoid littering the ground and a few shapes which she recognized as burnt bodies. She bit her tongue as she continued to scan the site. Peeking out from underneath part of the wreckage she could see a pair of familiar boots. Rys. How many times had she seen those boots next to her? She’d know them almost as well she knew her own shoes. She understood why Jek had elected to stay in the speeder. Beside him, a little way away from the wreckage, she saw a set of red armor. She stepped forward but Thire grabbed her and pulled her back. The numbness inside her lifted, making room for crushing despair.

“Please. Please, let me see him. Please. Please. Please!” She fought against his grip as she sobbed, screaming at him to let her go. He didn’t say a thing, just held her until her voice was hoarse and her struggles had stilled. When Thire’s grip on her loosened she nearly fell to the ground. She would have fallen if he had not caught her and pulled her close to him. She didn’t notice the fleeting glances that some of the clones on-site sent her way. None of them approached.

“Riyo, you won’t be able to unsee this. Are you sure?” Thire finally said as he steadied her.

“Please, Thire. I owe him this much.” She wished he’d take off his helmet so that she could plead her case to a man and not a suit of armor. Yet, she couldn’t bear to see Fox’s face staring back at her; or Rys’, or any of the clones that had been on the gunship.

Thire nodded and helped her to her feet. He walked over with her to the red armor- she refused to think of it as Fox- and stood behind her as she fell to her knees beside the body. She reached for the stretch of black between Fox’s chest plate and helmet, slipping her hand under his neck. She was horrified when it bent unnaturally under her touch and she realized how he must have died. Swallowing her fear, she reached instead for his helmet, trying not to jostle his head as she removed it. Thire had knelt down behind her and he now lay his hands on her shoulders. She took Fox’s face in her hands and ran her thumbs numbly across his cheeks. How many times had she done this while he was alive; taken off his helmet and ran her hands across his face as if it belonged to her. She was thankful that his eyes were closed, though a look of sadness was still etched into his brow and lips. She realized that he must’ve begged to be spared in his final moments. She could never picture her proud Fox begging for his life, but maybe he did, for her. She continued to run her thumbs across his face as she took in his features for the last time. She almost missed Thire reaching out from behind her to prod at Fox’s throat.

“The crash didn’t kill him.” He’d taken off his helmet. His voice was level, detached, as if he was going through his thought processes out loud for her benefit. “Neither did our men, there would be bruising. But he was dead long before this ship hit the ground.” He brought his hand back to her shoulder. “It was a nearly instantaneous death, Riyo. He would’ve barely felt it.”

“You know who killed him then.” She didn’t turn around and Thire didn’t answer. “Please, tell me.”

“I did. I was the one who found him, on Mustafar. I brought the medical capsule. I saved his life. This is all my fault.”

Riyo finally turned to look at Thire. He wasn’t crying, but the blank look on his face was worse. She’d been afraid to see Fox in Thire’s face, but felt more afraid when she realized that she couldn’t. “Thire, please.”

“Vader.” He looked out at the debris around them and Riyo felt a chill run down her spine despite the heat. She let out a shaky breath and buried her face in the crook of Fox‘s neck. She almost hoped that she would feel his arms wrap around her as they always had before. But she was too late.

---

Her apartment felt empty. It had always felt empty without Fox there, ever since the first night he had stayed in her bed. She kept waiting for him to walk in the door and tell her how he had faked his death so that they could run away together. But that would never happen. She knew that it had been Fox that she’d buried that day. Not that she’d buried him. His body had been taken by the Republic.

She sat as she usually did now, alone in her chair with her datapad and Fox’s helmet in her lap. She had been permitted to take that much, and Thire, the new commanding officer of the Coruscant Guard, had later brought her his bracers. As she reviewed her notes, she ran her fingers across the plastoid, tracing the painted stripes or the exaggerated features.

A message chimed across the top of her datapad from Senator Organa. She opened it.

‘Are you with us?’

Maybe it was inappropriate for him to take advantage of her grief. When Bail had asked for her thoughts on the Empire before, she had turned him down- fearing retaliation. She wasn’t afraid anymore. Riyo clutched the helmet to her so hard as to dig the plastoid into her skin as she responded.

‘Yes’

Vader would pay.

#foxiyo #commander fox #cc-1010 #riyo chuchi #my fics #oneshot

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inspirationdivine · 4 years

Text

Take My Hand || Remmy and Lydia

Timing: Current Parties: @whatsin-yourhead @inspirationdivine Summary: Lydia and Remmy take time to talk wounds and fears. Remmy comes home Triggers: Mention of food poisoning, head trauma

Lydia’s phone buzzed with a picture of Remmy at the front gate. She was lying on a recliner in her garden, with a glass of lemonade. She had a large evening gown on, covering the brown thick chitinous layer that had covered her back. She was settled on her front with a parasol and very dark shades. It was a step up from a few days ago, certainly, but the pain that raked her body was still unbearable. She looked up at one of her security guards standing just enough feet away to not be looming, but close enough to feel secure. Unfortunately, he was The Mime, and wasn’t a great conversationalist. “Can you go and get Remmy and invite them into the garden, please?”

Remmy had let Morgan drop them off halfway down the block and walked-- well, walked at first, then broke into a paranoid sprint a few seconds later-- up to Lydia’s place. They needed to learn to be okay being outside again, that they were safe. That, yes, something could happen, but they would be okay. Everything would be okay. Remmy rung the bell, flowers tight in their hands-- Nell had given them a nice assortment, some white, some gold, a few purple-- and waited, looking up at the camera she’d had installed. Gave a little wave. After a moment, a stoic, silent man opened the door and ushered them in. They followed slowly at first, before their eyes caught the staircase-- and remembered nail marks and bloody footprints-- and the hallway-- where there had been a pool of blood large enough to slip on-- and the doorway-- that had sagged with its broken frame-- and they scurried faster, past it all, and out into the garden where the man pointed them. Lydia was on a recliner, seemingly basking in the warm sun. She looked relaxed, if a bit tired, but Remmy knew better. “I um--” they looked over at her gadren, where flowers were sprouting, then down at the ones in their hands, “--brought you flowers.”

Lydia pushed herself up onto her elbows to look at Remmy with a soft smile. The blackened bruising had turned yellow on her face, at least. Dr. Oakfield was happy with the healing of her hand, ankle, and the fracture along her jawline. Seeing Remmy in the flesh was different than seeing them as icons in the screen. She knew they weren’t going out much at the moment, that they weren’t leaving Deirdre’s house often at all. To see them here, at the site of two of their recent traumas? It was astounding, and a tragedy, and a reminder of how much she’d failed them. “Thank you darling. Mime, could you possibly pull out the other recliner?Wonderful.” Why was his uniform the only one that was striped? How was he supposed to blend in like that? Lydia had no idea, and no desire to ask. He was the easiest to ask to do errant chores, that was for certain. “How have you been, Remmy?”

Remmy felt their eyes scan Lydia’s face before they managed to look away. It pained them to see her like that. If they’d just stayed with her, this wouldn’t have happened. If they’d just been able to get over themself, they couldn’t been there to stop whoever did this. Their hand tightened momentarily on the flowers, before the Mime dragged a chair over to them and they sat in it. He took the flowers and put them in a vase. Remmy didn’t like looking at him. They turned to focus back on Lydia. She was smiling, but they knew she was in pain. After all the kindness she’d given them, they’d failed her in her one time of need, and now they had no idea what they were supposed to do. “Um...better, I guess?” they shrugged, looked down at their stomach, swallowed. “No one’s tried to gut me recently, so that’s nice.”

“No one has drowned me this week, so things must be on the up,” Lydia replied with a blasé smile she didn’t quite feel. She held out her hand, which was almost entirely healed by now, for them to take. “I love you, you know. I hope you’re finding what you need at Deirdre and Morgan’s.” Lydia hadn’t, but that was because in those five days at the doctor’s, a new pain had grown, radiating out from her chest. It had started dull, and had grown sharply with each passing day. To be away from the humans she had attached herself to was as painful for her as it was for them, and when she’d returned, she’d held them close until that pain had healed. She felt no safer here than she did at Deirdre’s, but this was the place she could keep her secrets.

Remmy took Lydia’s hand and fought back the urge to squeeze it. It looked like it still might hurt, even if it was healing alright. They looked over at her, not all too surprised by her nonchalance about being attacked, although they knew the fear was still there. They knew because it was still there for them, too. In their gut. Their chest. Their fingertips. They shifted in their spot. “I know, Lydia,” they said quietly, “I love you, too.” They didn’t know how to answer the second part, because they didn’t know what they were looking for over at Morgan and Deirdre’s. Safety, they supposed, but if they could’ve been poisoned inside Lydia’s home by someone they trusted, what was stopping anyone from doing that over there, too? “I’m...trying.” They glanced sideways. “I’m sorry I wasn’t here for you.”

In a single breath, Remmy reminded Lydia just why she loved them so much, and why at the same time she wanted to shake them. THey really did have a truly pure heart, and it was a terrible thing that that was killing them. “I don’t think that was an accident, Remmy. I think a night was chosen where you weren’t there deliberately, so that I was alone and helpless. Which is why I’m paying multiple people to ensure that isn’t the case ever again. Even if one of them is, well, a mime. Turns out they’re much more frightening than I had given them credit for.” Lydia squeezed Remmy’s hand tightly. “It’s not your job nor your duty to be everywhere to protect everyone. Don’t apologise for having a life, Remmy. I’m sorry that this has made things worse for you.”

Remmy was silent. They watched Lydia as she talked, but their brain hadn’t come up with anything to say yet. She always had a way with words, always knew what to say to them. And even if it didn’t immediately make them feel better, they knew they were true. They squeezed her hand back. “You know I did used to work security,” they teased quietly, shifting a little closer. They almost wished they could lay down next to Lydia and just feel the warmth of another person beside them. “If I can’t apologize then neither can you. This wasn’t your fault, either. It was just...shit timing, I guess.” And shit circumstance. If Remmy ever saw whoever did this to Lydia, they weren’t sure they’d be able to hold back the anger and pain this had caused. They stiffened a moment before letting their muscles relax. “But we’re both okay. We both survived. And Morgan found out who tried to--” they stopped mid-sentence, shook their head. “Who did that to me and is making sure it’ll never happen again.” Whatever that meant.

“Mm, but I’d enjoy your company much more as a friend than as someone towering behind me.” Lydia replied with a soft laugh, shifting her weight slightly on the recliner, so that she was almost resting on her side rather than her front, elbow propping her up. She nodded, conceding their point. “Fine, I won’t apologise anymore,” Lydia said with a small smile. “Shit timing sums it all up. But with the fence being installed and all the extra security, we’ll keep this place safe as can be.” Just not safe enough by either of their standards, not anymore. “Morgan found out who it was? Who was it, Remmy?”

Remmy quieted. How were they supposed to tell Lydia they didn’t feel safe in her home anymore? How were they supposed to believe she did? How had people so easily ruined that for them both? They squeezed her hand subconsciously and glanced away. “Yeah, it does. It will. Be safe again…” they rubbed at their face with their free hand and felt the patch still on their eye. How many months had it been? Since Morgan died. When would any of them get a break? “It was-- “ they started, then stopped, “someone I thought was a friend. It’s...it’s okay, though. It won’t happen again.” The thought of it stung their chest and Remmy thought of Nadia and her smile and her motorcycle and the betrayal that had seated itself in their heart from her actions. “I just wanna...move on.”

For all their many virtues, Remmy wasn’t a convincing person when they weren’t convinced. How could they be, when Lydia barely was. “We’ll figure it out. In time. There’s always a home for you here, Remmy. You don’t have to use it, but it is always here for you.” But in her gaze, even through the sunglasses, it was apparent that Lydia would understand why Remmy wanted to stay away. They’d seemed so light when the collar had come off, but even then, the poisonous vines of their PTSD had lingered, and it had only been exacerbated now. They needed help, and Lydia was no longer the best person to give it. “I’m so sorry, my love. But that’s alright. We can move on.”

“I hope so,” Remmy said under a whisper, hoping Lydia’s words would sink in further and actually take root. They hadn’t yet, but maybe soon. Maybe soon. They sat a little closer, held her hand just a little tighter. “How do you do it?” they asked after a long silence, chancing a look over at her. They couldn’t quite see her eyes behind her sunglasses, and if this was pushing her too much, but they needed an answer. They needed to know what to do next. “Stay here? Isn’t it-- don’t you--” see him everywhere? Did his shadow not exist inside her mind, everywhere she looked? Remmy’s shadow never left them alone. They were everywhere and everything and everyone. “Will it get easier, you think? Staying here?”

Lydia took a deep breath, that rattled through her chest, trying to think of an answer that might satisfy the truth, and satisfy Remmy. “I see him everywhere,” Lyda agreed. “I can’t use the bathroom in which he drowned me anymore. I can’t-” Lydia paused, “I can’t stand the sound of Chopin, which has a certain ring of irony.” She laughed weakly. “But it hurts more to be away than it does to be here. He took my wing, I can’t let him take my home.” She rubbed her temples, her smile wavering into grief. “I hope it does. It has to. I will do anything in my power to make this place feel safe for me.”

Something ached deep down inside of Remmy and they curled their knees up to the chest, holding onto their legs tight with their free hand. “Why do people do things like that?” they asked absentmindedly. It wasn’t really directed at Lydia, a thought that just drifted from their mind into the ether. “Why do people hurt other people?” They remembered the first time they’d been asked to hurt someone. It was a gun and a quick pull trigger and it was to protect someone else. It had still felt violent and wrong. Every shot after hurt more. Sometimes their bones still ached at the thought. “Would it feel safer if I came back?”

“I think it made him feel powerful,” Lydia quietly, although she wasn’t convinced Remmy had been looking for an answer. It wasn’t as if Lydia wasn’t asking herself that constantly, from the moment she’d realised he was following her. Sure, the first meeting had been chance, but what had she done to draw so much of his attention? It was more than the promise, more than her faeness. Something about her screamed target of a serial killer Russian vampire, and Lydia had no idea how to even begin to work out what. Remmy’s question gave her pause, as she stared into the far distance, trying to work out what the true answer was, and what the answer Remmy needed was. Whether she could make them overlap. Did Remmy want to feel useful? Or were they just offering to feel better themselves? “I don’t want you to come back to make me feel safer. You’re not my shield, Remmy, you’re my friend. You’re like family.”

That was true of a lot of people, wasn’t it? The need to feel powerful. It was why Remmy had fought in the Ring, wasn’t it? Why they’d kept going back to that place? It gave them power. It gave them purpose. As much as they hated the thought now, it had been true at one point. It grated their insides to know that. “I just want to feel like I’m good for something,” they finally said, not looking over at her, “that I’m not just wasted space.” That they kept surviving these things for a reason. There had to be a reason they were the one that got bit, right? That they were the one who woke up. That they were the one who Jax chose to save when he could have let that gargoyle tear them apart and be none the worse for it. That they were the one who had survived being poisoned. There had to be a reason for it all. “You’re my family, too, Lydia. I’d be so lost without you.”

“Why do you think you’re wasted space?” Lydia asked softly, squeezing Remmy’s hand as much as she could. “I don’t mean that to tell you you shouldn’t feel like that, I want to understand why.” They had been through so many things, and Lydia had seen as each one had torn them apart a little more. For someone supposedly so indestructible, they had been so close to destroyed so many times. “Don’t worry, you won’t lose me.”

“Because I’m not--” Remmy started, unsure of how to explain. “I’m not the best at anything, or like...the smartest. I can’t do magic like Cece to help and I’m not good at talking like Morgan. Everyone has these qualities that make them better and good people, and I’m just--” useless, as their father had said. A waste of space. Underachieving, below average grades, no extra cirriculars. Remmy had never been extraordinary, had never stood out. So why did they keep getting these chances? “--I don’t know why it was me that woke up that day. I don’t know why I got to live and everyone else had to die when I can’t do anything to help anyone.”

“Is Morgan good at talking?” Lydia scoffed slightly. The woman was excellent at projecting her assumptions on other people, and if that was what some considered empathy, well. That was concerning. Lydia didn’t see it that way at all. Despite that small interjection, she was listening to Remmy, trying to piece it all together. It was so very human of them. Everything had to have order and reason. Everything had to have a purpose, even them. Lydia wouldn’t say it, but it was a truth about Fae, they saw the world as it was. Chaotic, unpredictable. There didn’t have to be rhyme or reason to random perturbations. “Can I ask you something?” Lydia said softly. “Is it not enough to bring joy and comfort to other people’s lives?”

Lydia was being oddly quiet and Remmy could feel the anxiety buzzing under their skin, like little bugs. They worried they’d said too much or said something wrong. They were so used to putting themself in a little box and tucking in the corner. They had to always live such a contained life. Make themself small so they didn’t take up space and disturb the people around them. Being invisible was better than being hurt. Taking up space without having a purpose meant they should be punished. So when Lydia asked her question, they didn’t have an answer. Not one that they liked and not one that they wanted to tell her. “It doesn’t feel like enough. How-- I--” they looked over at her. “I wish I was like you. I wish I’d known about this world earlier. I want-- I want so bad to help people, but I don’t know how. And no one ever let’s me. They all look at me with those sad eyes, like I’m too fragile.”

Lydia smiled softly. "So what I hear is that you're being unkind to yourself for circumstances outside your control." There was a delectable irony to her commenting on that, she knew, as her friends had made clear many times. The attack wasn't her fault, they had explained, over and over. Similarly, Remmy not knowing until recently that this world even existed was not their fault. "Remmy, you have so much time to learn and change. You'll get there, one day. But the truth is that you're new to this, and you are still struggling with the recent terrible things that happened to you. Both of those things are okay. Both take time. It's important for you to help yourself too, right?"

“I--” Remmy started, but paused mid word when the thought hit them and they realized-- Lydia was right. She kind of always was. They knew she was, but convincing themself was a whole other thing. They wanted to try though. For Lydia, they wanted to try. They scooted over closer to her, turning to look at her, this time square in the eyes. They weren’t often good at that, meeting others’ eyes, but they knew this was important to say to her, face to face. “I want to move back in with you. You’re-- you feel like home. And I-- want all those things you said. To help myself, to be...to get better.”

Lydia held Remmy’s gaze for as long as they were comfortable. Eye contact was easy for her, but she knew it wasn’t for them, so she tried to keep her look mild and welcoming here. “I want you here.” Lydia replied, squeezing Remmy’s hand. “You have all the time you want in the world. We’ll heal together, hm?” One step at a time. They deserved someone they could trust unconditionally.

#wickedswriting #para #chatzy #remmy

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