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marie-swriting · 10 months

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He'll Be Here - Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw [1/2]

Masterlist

Part two

Part one - two (French version)

Summary : It's your birthday party and you're waiting for Bradley, hoping his fight with Pete, your father, won't damage your relationship as well.

Warnings : Maverick!daughter!reader, reader is 23 and Bradley is 25, angst, mention of Goose and Carol's death, sad ending, maybe some grammatical mistakes as English is not my first language, tell me if you see some or if I missed any warnings.

Word count : 2.8k

Song inspiration : The Moment I Knew (Taylor's Version) by Taylor Swift

Your eyes are set on the table filled with candies as you count carefully how many chairs are around it. After counting three times, you come to the conclusion there’s one missing. You go find Pete, your father, in the kitchen where he’s putting small cakes on a plate.

“Dad, you only put fourteen chairs, we’re fifteen.”

“Oh, I thought, maybe, Bradley-”

“He’ll come.” you cut him off a bit harshly. “He told me he’ll be here.” you rephrase with a softer tone.

“Sorry, sweetheart. I should have asked you to confirm it again.”

“It’s okay.” you assure him with a smile, “I’m gonna take my desk chair.”

Pete nods before going back to what he was doing while you’re leaving the room. You go take your chair and you can’t stop thinking back to Bradley and your relationship. His mother’s death a few months ago broke him down and your relationship has gone a bit downhill but since your father pulled his paper, it’s even worse. Now, there is a lot of tension between the two of them, sometimes creating some arguments between you and him. However, despite your last argument three days ago, he assured you he’ll be at your birthday party. He even confirmed it again the day before.

“He’ll be here. He promised.” you can’t stop telling yourself like a mantra.

With your father, you finish setting everything up in the living room when the first guests arrive. Before opening your door, you put your dress right back and check if your red lipstick is applied correctly in the mirror next to the door. You paid attention to every single little detail of your appearance, wanting to impress Bradley. If during that night, you both can let your fight behind and if Bradley can spend a whole night with your father without an altercation then maybe it can still work. You want it to work still. You can’t lose Bradley too.

Upon opening the door, you don’t find Bradley but your high school friends, Sarah and Luke, you hadn’t seen for several months. You catch up on each other’s life whilst a part of your mind is distracted by Bradley. You have a knot in your stomach, in spite of yourself, nonetheless you try not to think too much about it. Your first guests have just arrived and it’s not even 2:30 P.M yet. It’s normal he’s not the first one to show. You have no reason to stress.

As the time goes by, other friends from school and University as well show up. You keep a smile on your face and chat with them but you can’t help and look toward the front door. Everytime someone knocks, you run to open and try not to show your disappointment when you see friends and not Bradley. Yet, it becomes harder when Bradley’s friends arrive without him. You do everything to put your mind at ease by telling yourself he might come later. He’s twenty minutes late, it’s true, however so is your friend Anne. There’s no reason to worry. Not yet.

When he is officially thirty minutes late, you take your phone, hoping you missed a text but nothing. You open your conversation with Bradley and write a message.

Text from you to Bradley, 3:11 P.M. :

Hey, is there traffic on the road ? Do you know when you’ll be here ? ❤️

You keep your cell in your hand - your dress doesn’t have pockets - and you join the conversation between your dad and Sarah. You don’t talk a lot, too focused on checking the door and your messages. Pete sees on your face you’re preoccupied. He doesn’t need to think too much to know Bradley is the reason. He knows he did the good thing by pulling Bradley’s paper, like Carol wanted to, but he can’t help and feels bad when he started to notice his action has consequences on your relationship with Bradley. The last thing he wants is to see you lose the bond you two share, especially if he’s the reason behind it. When Sarah goes to find Hannah to do Karaoke, your father gets closer to you.

“He’ll come, don’t worry about it.” he whispers in your ear, “It’s supposed to be fun, turning twenty-three so enjoy your party with your friends.”

You quickly nod to your dad and do what he told you. You’re finally having a good time by singing some songs from your teenagehood with your friends, even if you keep looking at your phone which still doesn’t have a new notification.

While you’re in the middle of a third song, someone knocks on the front door. Your head snaps in an instant toward the sound. Your dad doesn’t have the time to react that you’ve already opened the door. The big smile that was on your face a second ago vanishes when you see Anne. She takes you in her arms rapidly.

“Happy birthday !” Anne exclaims, breaking the embrace, “I’m sorry, I’m so freaking late, but someone’s car broke down in the middle of the road and I’ve been having some struggle with my phone recently.”

“Don’t worry about it. I’m glad you could make it.”

“I’m probably the last one.”

“No, Bradley isn’t here yet.” you inform with a small wince, “He’s probably stuck on the road as well.”

You take her gift and put it next to the other ones whilst she joins the guests. Your eyes get filled with tears, ready to fall, yet you hold them back. You take your phone and the lack of new messages is starting to really frustrate you. You even think something is wrong with your cell. You turn it off and on, hoping it’ll change something. It didn’t. You open your conversation with Bradley again and tap something, trying not to shed a tear.

Text from you to Bradley, 4:57 P.M. :

So, you’re officially the last one haha. You’re gonna be late a lot ? I’m waiting for you impatiently ❤️

Your friend Luke grabs you by the arm and brings you back to the others who are laughing. You try your best to laugh with them but your gloominess prevents you from it. While some of your friends are having fun, others are asking you when or if Bradley is coming. You do your best acting performance and answer them, smiling, that he’s on his way. When they go back to what they were doing, you watch the front door again and then your phone, both of them without a trace of Bradley.

Your party officially started three hours ago, you’re about to eat your birthday cake. All your guests are looking forward to eating it whereas you only want to send them back home and be alone, under your covers. You keep your fake smile and go at the end of the table and your dad is going to take the cake with your candles. Sarah turns off the light and your closed ones are singing Happy Birthday To You. Awkwardly, your eyes go from one friend to the other until they fall on the empty chair at the opposite side of you. At that moment, you feel like it’s slow motion when you watch the door again, hoping Bradley would burst through the door with a big smile on his face and apologise for being late. Unfortunately, only your candles in the shape of a two and a three appear in front of you. The voices finishing singing seem far away from you whilst your father kisses your temple and invites you to blow your candles. Once they’re extinguished, your friends and your father applaud you and you take the knife for the cake. At the same time you’re eating, your guests offer you your gifts. You open them and thank the person, however between each present, your eyes find their way on the door then the empty chair. You have one last gift left to open. According to Sarah, it’s a present from all of your friends. You open the letter and read “coupon for a week-end for two persons at New-York.”

“We thought it could be a cool thing to do for you and Bradley.” Hannah informs you.

“Or someone else !” Sarah adds quickly. “The booking hasn’t been done yet so you can decide who you want to take with you.”

“Thank you very much. All of your gifts are perfect.” you state, pinching your red lips together as a way to smile.

Luke starts a conversation and the voices start mixing. You take your phone next to your cake and check your messages with Bradley. This time, you decide to not send a text. You know it’s too late. Bradley’s absence is starting to stand out more and more to the point where your friends notice your uneasiness. Sarah’s little specification made you realise that. Even if she doesn’t know everything, you told her about your relationship problems. Everytime you told her about it, she tried to soothe you by saying over and over again that your bond is strong and it’s just a difficult time. However, with her comment, you think she’s now changed her mind because what you’re going through is clearly more serious.

When you finish eating, some of your friends go to do something you don’t care about whereas the others chat together and your dad grabs the plate and brings them back to the kitchen. As for you, you stay on your chair, staring blankly at the door. Your eyes get more and more teary and you know, this time, you won’t be able to hold them back. You stand up and start leaving the room. You’re about to reach the bathroom’s door when Josh and Julia, Bradley’s close friends - they always seem to know when there’s something going wrong between you and Bradley - catch you before you can lock yourself in.

“Is everything okay ?” Julia asks you with a worried look.

“He said he’d be here.” you say, hopelessly. “He’s not answering my texts and we all know he’s not late.”

“There must be an explanation.”

“Why hasn’t he told me then ? He promised.”

“It’s going to be okay.” Josh reassures you, stroking your arm. “Come on, it’s your party, you should be having fun.”

“I’m just gonna go to the bathroom before.”

Julia and Josh go back to the living room and you lock yourself in the bathroom. You put your hands on both sides of the sink, your head down while the first tears are streaming down your face. Remembering you have mascara on, you raise your head toward the ceiling and try to breath slowly. Yet, your cries are only getting stronger. You end up setting your eyes on your reflection in the mirror in front of you and you think you’re pathetic. You watch the contrast between your party dress and your red lipstick that were to impress Bradley and your tears mixed with your mascara that are to deplore him.

Bradley’s silence hurts you more than his absence. He’s been your best friend since your birth, your boyfriend since you’re fifteen and him seventeen and he’s ignoring you on purpose. At that moment your heart breaks into a billion little pieces in your chest, knowing what that absence and silence mean for both of you. You wish things were different, but you’ve been feeling like things were changing between you for quite some time, your party only confirmed your doubts. You try your best to hold back your sobs facing this realisation, though you let go of a sound. You mentally hope no one has heard you. You force yourself to calm your cries, knowing you can’t stay any longer, not wanting to worry your father and your guests.

When you’re finally calming down, you take a tissue and dry your tears. You fix your make up, take a deep breath and leave the bathroom. Before going to the others, you prepare your smile and enter the room. As soon as he sees you, your dad knows you’re sad. He doesn’t need to take a better look at you to see the pain you’re hiding being this artificial smile.

For the remaining time of your party, you become the shadow of your former self. You feel like you’re too much, you’re ridiculous. Your friends are having fun whilst you can’t stop but adjust your dress which seems to burn every centimetre of your skin. You’re numb, unable to force a laugh at your friends' shenanigans. You’re just waiting for them to leave. Your father is looking at you from afar and he can’t help but feel his heart tightens in his chest. Indirectly, he’s the reason for your pain and he hates it. He hates himself for it.

When your guests finally leave, you close the door hurriedly. You sigh in relief before joining your dad who has already started to put things away. You grab some glasses and plates and bring them to the kitchen, lost in your thoughts.

“I’m gonna do it, don’t worry. You can go to bed.” he informs you with a compassionate smile.

“I can help.”

“It won’t take long, I’ve got this.”

You don’t have the strength to argue so you nod silently and walk to your bedroom, dragging your feet. After taking your stuff, you go to the bathroom. There, you take your makeup off, brush your teeth, put your pyjamas on without thinking. You should feel lighter, not having on you what weighed so much on you, except that the problem wasn’t your dress or your makeup, on the contrary, it’s the pain in your chest. Worse, getting rid of these artifice makes you ache even more because there’s no chance of going back to the start of the day.

When you go back to your room, you settle down on your bed. You only have time to take a pillow in your arms when your phone rings. You throw yourself on it and discover Bradley’s name. You wait a second before picking it up. You don’t say a word, too scared to break down.

“Hey, I’m sorry I couldn’t make it. I’ll make it up to you.” Bradley apologises with a soft voice.

Hearing his voice creates a knot in your throat and your eyes start to sting. You take a deep breath before talking.

“I’m sorry too.”

“What do you mean ? I promise I have a good explanation.” he assures you, but you know he’s lying.

“Really and what is it ?” you let your anger win over. “I waited for you all night, Bradley. You’re the only one who didn’t show up. You should have been there.”

“You need to understand with your dad that-”

“‘That’ What ?” you cut him off, “You told me you’d make an effort for tonight.”

“I know…”, he starts, sighing, “but I can’t help and feel mad when I think back to what he did.”

“So you’re ruining our relationship ? Since it happened, everything has changed between us. You’re coming less and less to my place, you cancel dates at the last minute, we talk less and if we do talk, we argue. You know very well I have nothing to do with what he did so why do you act like it is ?” you question with a trembling voice.

“I… I don’t know.”

“I can’t handle this anymore, Bradley. Tonight was the last straw.”

“You’re not gonna break up with me just because I didn’t come tonight ? I told you I’ll make it up to you.” Bradley retorts, panicked.

“It’s not just the birthday. It’s been two months since things have been going south between us. You're always messing up and yet everytime I forgive you just for us to argue again. It's too late, there's nothing we can't do anymore.”

“Y/N, please. I can’t lose you too.” he begs with a small voice, making you tear up again.

“I can’t either. You mean the most to me, but it’s not working anymore. We have to face the truth. Goodbye, Bradley.”

You don’t give him a chance to answer and hang up. Your eyes on your phone, you start crying again. If you thought your heart was already broken, you have now the impression someone is ripping the pieces from your chest. You try to wipe your tears away when your dad opens the door. You turn your head in his direction and hold back a sob. Pete sees your trembling lips and he doesn’t need to know you were on the phone to understand what just happened. He takes big steps and takes you in his arms. You hang to him as if he was your safety net while you burst into tears.

“Why did you have to do that ? We already lost Uncle Goose and Aunt Carol and now, we lost him too.” you reproach him with a broken voice.

“I’m so sorry, sweetheart.”

You don’t have the courage to blame your dad a bit longer so you keep shedding all the tears of your body in the comfort of his arms whilst he’s holding his cries back, trying to soothe you.

Part two

Masterlist

{This is my side blog so I'll be answering comments under the username @marie-sworld}

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thistaleisabloodyone · 6 months

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Gif Making, the Broke Bitch Way

I've been considering making this tutorial for awhile, because not all of us can afford PhotoShop and doing it the way I do it does take some finagling.

For this tutorial, you will need:

A video you want to gif - I usually find them off of YouTube

Paint.net - the free version, I emphasize the free version. The paid for version doesn't play as nicely with plugins

midora's 'GIF Animations and Images' FileType Plugin (.GIF, .AGIF) plugin - have a tutorial on installing plugins for Paint.net)

ffmpeg - have a tutorial on installing ffmpeg because I struggled hardcore with that

VLC - for clipping larger videos down into smaller clips

Tutorial continues under the cut because it's fucking long and I ramble.

For this video, I will be breaking down SHOCK THE WORLD into frames.

Here, I already have it downloaded.

I have a special folder for breaking things down into frames and I've copied the file over into that folder.

Now, I'm gonna change the name of the file because that's motherfucking atrocious and I'm not fucking typing that out in ffmpeg.

Much better.

Now type in cmd in the address bar and hit enter. That'll bring up the command screen, where you type in

ffmpeg -i [nameoffile].mp4 %04d.png

Notably, I actually wrote ffmpeg -i shocktheworld.mp4 %05d.png because this video is 7 minutes long, so I wanted 5 digits in the file name instead of 4 just in case. You would be amazed at how many frames a video breaks down into when every second of footage is 23.99 frames.

And good thing I did. The text in the red box says 'frame=10707', which means it broke the video down into 10,707 frames.

You don't have to do this, but I go through and delete the frames that say RhythmZone at the beginning and the ones at the end, because I don't need them and these files are huge.

Now I move the images out of the Frames folder and into their new home.

Now that the frames are in their proper folder, it's time to find what we want to gif. I like this shot of Leiya, he looks pretty.

Now we have to decide how many frames we want our gif to be. Most of my gifs are between 25 and 35 frames - like the birthday gif sets are 28 frames, the Ray of Light second outfits are 37, and the MV gif sets are 30 frames of moving gif (45 frames w/promo pic).

In this case, I think we're gonna for for 30 frames. That's a decent amount. So first open up the first image - I just drag it into Paint.net from File Explorer because it's easier that way.

You can drag each frame you want in individually like that, too, just hit 'add as layer' every time. What I prefer to do is select all of the ones I want and drag them in at once. Just hit the 'Add as layer' button and magic happens.

Sometime when doing this, Paint.net drops the layers in in the wrong order, so it's always a good idea to go through and check that all of the numbers are in the right order. From this one, you can see that 2133 and 2134 ended up at the bottom, so I had to drag them back up to the top.

One way that I check that my frames are in the right order is I resize the file down to a much smaller size - 600x338 is what they tend to end up becoming when I do the previews - and then I go to Save As -> Save as AGIF format and preview the gif.

Technically, we could just call it quits here. You have the frames, you have them in the right order, you can truly just hit Save and move on with your life. This is the gif, saved just as it is, using the default settings for making a gif.

It's not as much a problem here, but sometimes the default settings move a little slower when you have all the frames. This is currently set at 1 frame per 100ms. I default to 1 frame per 80ms instead. The difference is slightly more obvious in these two gifs, I think, because there's more movement.

Gif on the left is 100ms per frame, gif on the right is 80ms per frame. It's a little faster and, in my opinion, truer to the actual music video.

But! Since I am a Picky Bitch, as well as a Broke Bitch, I don't usually leave my gifs at this point. I do two extra steps on every gif.

Step 1. Sharpen all the frames.

Unless it looks bad, I just take the default sharpening settings. Ctrl+F repeats the most recent effect you've applied. Considering each frame needs adjusted individually, I suggest you memorize that command. 😂

No sharpening left; sharpened right. The difference is subtle, but I prefer to sharpen my gifs to reduce chances of the gif looking blurry later.

Step 2. Brightness and contrast!

This step is a lot more finagling - I often do multiple tries and I'll compare the frame I've edited with the frame above it to see if I like the difference. The reason why I always do Brightness/Contrast - especially Contrast - is because I feel like it unifies the colors and takes off the sort - grey edge the gifs sometimes have if I don't do Brightness/Contrast.

Once you're happy with the Brightness/Contrast you have, you get to apply it to every single frame 😂 Ctrl+Sht+T is the shortcut.

So... Difference isn't as strong as I'd like it here. 😅 The one I modified is on the right.

I think the difference is more obvious with these two. On the left, is the one that hasn't been Sharpened or had the Brightness/Contrast affected. On the right is the finished version I actually posted. The left one just feels - greyer, to me, the colors aren't as vibrant or sharp.

#thistale makes things #thistale rambles #tw flashing gif #gif making the broke bitch way #thistale gifs

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sincerely-sofie · 6 months

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Check-in for October 24, 2023

I'm planning on doing regular check-ins that peeps can read or skip as much as they please. If you want to see behind the scenes of my projects or get to know me a bit better, feel free to peek below the cut! If not, just look at this color palette I made for my web dev class and admire it:

I know green and pink are my favorite colors, so I may be just a tad biased, but look!!! Look at how pretty it is!!!

I plan to use the palette for a website that is basically a guided tour of a fictional town that's populated by bug people, and while the colors used in the initial character sketches are still my preference, I don't think they look too bad in this proof of concept image! They definitely need some tweaking, and some details in the art itself need correcting, but all around it's not too shabby :>

I also made the logo for the website which, while uninspired, doesn't look that bad. I'm not in a logo design course, so I can't be too upset about that. I made two versions--- a light and dark one--- so that I could have it appear on most colors of background.

Also, I've printed off tons of art and stuck it on my walls over the past few days to inspire me. The art wall has been very successful in beautifying my space, but I've been a bit too worn out to draw much other than the start of a project where I draw individual generations of pokemon by memory. Venusaur looks exactly like I remembered it, but also nothing like that at all. Charizard's line only looks halfway decent by virtue of Twig existing.

I must say, though, that I am charmed by these drawings' doofy lil grins. Just look at Bulbasaur. He is raring to go! Charmander is ready to shake your hand! Look at these lads!!

I've been trying to learn Clip Studio Paint by drawing a new The Present is a Gift comic in it, but I cannot begin to explain to you all how intimidating of a program it is for me. I'm a Procreate gal, y'all. I have a conniption whenever I look at the Photoshop interface. When I look at this:

I am desperate for the cozy white space of this:

I spent over an hour struggling to draw a simple piece for Instagram, admittedly while desperately trying to get OBS to not give out on me while I recorded my screen, but I think that I'm slowly learning how to not faint whenever the Paint window boots up.

youtube

Anyhoo--- enjoy the WIP teaser for the upcoming comic featuring a chat between Dusknoir (piloting a KO'd Twig) and Darkrai amidst a cave-in. If I am found dead, know that said comic worked alongside Clip Studio Paint to kill me.

As an update for The Present is a Gift in terms of the fanfic, I recently broke 6,000 words for the first draft. I haven't been writing too regularly--- when I do, it's usually to just sit down for 30 minutes max to try and get a little bit of a head start on NaNoWriMo coming up--- but whenever I do, the words come in batches of 400-700+ at a time. My dudes, I used to take a week to reach the lower end of that amount. I've been beating perfectionism back with a stick while sobbing "Quantity begets quality! Quantity begets quality!", but since I've set myself a challenge to write as many garbage words as possible without editing them until the first draft is done, I've been writing--- and enjoying the process of writing--- more than I have in my entire life.

I've been trying to win NaNoWriMo, a challenge where you write 50k words in November, for the last 7 years. I resigned myself to being a NaNo rebel and trying to write just 15k words next month. But if I keep cranking out 1,500 words in under two writing sprints per day--- without properly trying to eliminate distractions--- I think I could actually win for once??? I didn't think Pokemon Mystery Dungeon fanfiction would be what gave me a fighting chance at winning NaNoWriMo, but here I am. PMD brainrot truly is a miraculous thing, but I'll have to see exactly miraculous it is on the 1st of November.

So... yep! I probably should have figured out a way to sign off on check-in posts before deciding to publish this. Oops. Welp. Um. Thanks for reading?

Sincerely, Sofie

#sofie checks in #web development #web dev #web design #fanfiction writer #nanowrimo #Youtube #pngtuber #The Present is a Gift AU Update

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satanicchristiancult · 8 months

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Heartstopper 7-30, and why it is that representation matters

Or: the perspective from a queer and mentally ill teen about figuring out your future and moving forward from the past, through an analysis of a singular chapter of Heartstopper

Alternatively: a queer, mentally ill teen projecting their issues and analyzing life itself through a comic about queer, mentally ill teens

Warnings: spoilers for all of the comic version of Heartstopper up until the most recent update (September 11, 2023), past self-harm, issues with self-image, and unspecified eating disorders (all of them both in fiction and in real life). (The last one isn’t really spoken about, but the topic lingers around this essay, keep that in mind).

It’s the second time I’m writing this. Bear with me. It’s long. You’ve been warned. Also, as you can see, this was written over the course of two days, and took multiple days for me to clean up and post. It’s no longer Monday 11th, so there are inconsistencies.

Today I woke up like any other Monday morning. Grabbed my phone at 5 am before getting ready for class. Today is update day for Heartstopper, as is every 1st, 11th, and 21st of each month. I looked up the chapter on Tumblr, read half of it, got ready for the day, read the rest of the update, and kept going with my day.

Usually, I wouldn’t think much about it throughout the day. I would think about it and re-read the chapter during the time between classes, or during lunch. Today was different. We’re in the middle of exam season. Today’s exam had to be done in a very small amount of time, only an hour. All of it was writing and analyzing. It’s 20% of the grade for the class. I spent 15 minutes of said exam just thinking about Heartstopper.

Here’s the thing about me. I have the tendency to fall in love with fiction. I will find something new, a book, a series, whatever, and consume all of it, engage with the fandom, consume all of it again, and repeat the whole thing until I find something new.

I engaged with Heartstopper a while after it had first been presented to me. Just like right now, it was the middle of exam season and I needed to get my mind off of things. I opened Tapas, which I often use to read things, mostly fan comics. I saw that Heartstopper was in there for free. I thought it was odd, but I was bored and tired, so I began reading.

I read the whole thing in two days, only three hours or something like that. At first, it became something like a comfort for me. A world that resembled the real world but made it its ideal version. Heartstopper presented me with a dream-like gay relationship, filled with self-discovery, varied characters, and, once again, an idealized version of the world.

It was so liberating at first. What if the world was like that? What if we didn’t have to fear people that much? What if life could be so filled with love?

Then it got dark.

Holy- then it got dark. It broke me, but I loved it. Gosh, I really did. I love stories about mental health. I love reading about how life can break a human being, but at the same time, how it can slowly and carefully put them back together. Sure, life is not perfect, and therefore, a person will never be fixed, and they will never be “how they used to be”, but life can persevere through darkness and pain. Life can get better. That’s what I chose to believe.

I’ve always related more to Charlie than to any other Heartstopper character, (aside from Tori, but she doesn’t really count as a Heartstopper character). We both struggle with similar issues, and we both deal with them in similar ways. Unhealthy coping mechanisms, baby~!

This arc of Nick trying to choose a university is significant to me, mostly because I’m having the same issues as him. I’m supposed to have figured out what I’m going to do, and I’m supposed to know where that’s going to be. I don’t know anything. I know what area I’m interested in, but that’s still not enough.

Currently, Nick is touring universities with his friends, trying to make plans for the future, while figuring out whether or not he’s willing to leave behind the people he loves for the sake of his education and personal growth.

That struck a nerve in me. I’m also terrified of leaving behind my friends, who are essentially my family. I want to be the best version possible of me. I want to have these new, meaningful, and life-altering experiences.

When I was younger, I used to think that I wouldn’t make it far. I thought that I would die young and I would be at fault for that. I found hope and comfort whenever I thought about college. I always thought/dreamed about leaving everything behind, going to the US, and living the “American Dream”. I never cared whether or not it was doable, it was my dream and it was going to happen one way or another.

Now I’m older. Somehow still alive. More bitter than before. Sadly enough, I don’t allow myself to dream about those things anymore and still believe that they can and will happen. Now, my perception of the US has been broken and I’m truly afraid of even going there.

Back to Heartstopper 7-30, Nick and the gang visit the University of Leeds. Nothing seems to particularly catch their eye, but they speak with a student, and things change.

Nick gets asked the question. That haunting question that almost seems to chase you down. “What are you thinking of studying?” Then comes the dreaded answer, “I’m still undecided.” Lucky for him, he doesn’t seem to take it in a bad way or overanalyze the situation.

How the social life is described to Nick attracts him to the university. He’s interested in the sports facilities, because he’s our rugby boy, so of course he would be. The person he’s talking to tells him that their partner is in the team, and that they are really enjoying it.

That’s the moment in which, even if isn’t consciously, Nick makes his decision. He turns around and sees a group of students playing rugby. One of them turns around and waves at them, signifying that they are the other one’s partner. The rest of the group just looks at them and smile.

They just seem to accept each other no matter what. They show affection between them and don’t even question it. That means the world to Nick. That’s everything he wants. A community. To be accepted. To be able to engage in one of his favorite activities, rugby, and not have to hide who he truly is. He sees himself as one of them. Straight up, imagines himself in their shoes, and he finally finds what he’s looking for.

A year ago, I started telling myself that I should figure things out. I went to a fair with multiple international universities that offered different programs for students from my country. At the end of the day, the dream never fully dies, I guess. I still want that god-forsaken college experience that appears in books and movies. That feeling of community. Anything.

I found this public university in the middle of nowhere, but it truly did captivate me. I don’t even remember why. Cool mascot, a nice ambiance. Good enough. I looked them up on Instagram and fell in love. Their posts were truly everything I had ever dreamed of. Community, acceptance, fun, pure joy, and happiness on that campus.

Then, what meant the most to me: an LGBTQIA2S+ organization. Queer-friendly spaces. Monthly meeting just to talk. I can’t stress enough how relevant this one was for me at first, a bingo game night with drag queens.

Where I come from, people know that you’re queer and you’re dead, honestly. You will never hear the end of it. We isolate ourselves because we know that otherwise, we’d have to fight daily just to be tolerated, to be heard. We’d have to argue why our existence is okay.

This idea of being out, the whole concept to me is wild. I genuinely never considered it a possibility. Being openly queer, alongside other openly queer people is something revolutionary in my head. I do mean it.

I understand Nick. Finally finding a place where you think that you could actually belong is such a liberating experience. The idea of “I could be there”, “I could be one of them”, “I could be myself and not have to worry”. It changes everything. It genuinely does.

I truly do hope that Nick finds himself at home in Leeds. I wish him only the best. May he figure out what he wants to do, and may he be happy doing it.

Now, time for. Charlie.

He barely even appears on this update, yet, his actions are incredibly relevant, both to his character development and to all of the people reading.

Charlie’s mental health has been all over the place, that’s something everyone who has ever interacted with Heartstopper knows. Most fans can also say that they relate to this. A pretty big amount of the fans of this saga would say that they consider themselves LGBTQIA2S+ and/or people who are currently or in the past have struggled with their mental health.

The beauty of Heartstopper is that we get to see these characters grow, not only grow older, but also grow emotionally. They get to learn about themselves. They get to battle their internal conflicts and win them.

Charlie means a lot to a lot of people. He means a lot to me. He is, in some way or another, a reflection of myself. My issues. My life. Which is really worrying, actually, but it does mean something. People relate to him. He is a good enough representation of mental health issues for people to be able to identify with him.

In this update, Charlie wants Nick to see him without his shirt on for the first time ever. This is such a big step for him. For his recovery. Charlie has many self-image issues, especially around his arms and torso. All of us readers know how hard this was for him, therefore, we know how much this moment means.

I love that it wasn’t like a gigantic revelation that was reacted to in an exaggerated manner. Nick, being Nick, just blushed heavily. He truly is the personification of ‘bi crisis’. Good for him.

Some of Charlie’s biggest insecurities, as seen in 7-13, are the fact that he’s skinny and has scars. The entirety of chapter 7 has focused on how hard this is on him, and how much it affects his daily life.

Him taking off his shirt doesn’t mean that he overcame this issues. Recovery isn’t linear. This action only means that he’s finally comfortable enough to try. That’s all that recovery really is. Trying, hoping, to get better.

As the audience, an outsider looking in, we have seen Charlie shirtless before. Something new happened this time. We saw something that we didn’t need to see, but some of us, me included, are glad we saw. We saw Charlie’s self-harm scars.

It could be stupid. It could be worthless, but it meant a lot to many of us. It meant a lot to Charlie.

Charlie finally feels confident enough with himself to show this part of him to his boyfriend. Sure, he trusts him with all of his very being. Charlie is well aware that Nick will never judge him for it, but his mind doesn’t see it that way. Charlie is in a fight of will against himself. He wants this, he truly does, but there’s a voice in his head telling him that everything could go wrong. Even if it’s illogical. Even if he knows that it is.

I love how Alice just subtly writes onto the story small details that will later on become important for the plot. They don’t even have to be really important. Them being there is enough. Every single time in which he holds onto his arm, or anyone touches that specific area, there’s always a reaction from him. Every time he feels insecure, he holds onto that specific area.

It could be because I’m an angst-loving fanfic reader/writer, but I always wanted to see those scars. It might be a morbid thought, but I really did want to. We didn’t need it, sure, but seeing them shows that they aren’t just a plot devise. We know that they aren’t only that, but it’s just one of those illogical thoughts that one might have.

Seeing them shows their severity. Seeing them shows how far Charlie has come.

To me, seeing them meant seeing someone like me in a book. On a published book. In the future, on a TV show.

It is one thing to read about it in fan fiction, in people’s blogs, on YouTube videos of people who are getting better, or anything like that. Anyone can post that. It being on something published in that way, something edited and checked by so many people, something that could be professionally translated onto other languages, something that at some point we may find in a library. It means a lot to me.

Alice Oseman’s book Loveless caused the same impact on me. My first time reading a book where there were asexual and/or aromantic characters, non-binary characters. There are people like me in media. In books. In my home country, as oddly homophobic and transphobic as it is, I can go to a bookstore and buy myself a copy of this book. It is real. I am, in fact, not faking all of this. Other people are like me.

Six years I’ve been hiding my arms from the world. I’ve spent my whole life hiding my legs, but three or four years ago I began hiding them for other reasons as well.

Six years ago someone finally asked me, in a worried tone, what happened to my arms. People had asked before, but no one ever asked as if they were concerned. Six years ago it happened for the first and only time. I haven’t worn a sleeveless shirt outside of my room in all that time. I don’t know if I ever will.

Charlie gives me hope. Maybe, one day I will. Who knows. I don’t really want to do that now, but if I ever do, I know that I could.

It is nice to see oneself represented in media. Small representation means something. A more relevant role means even more though.

As a child from a pretty ignored country, I found myself represented in Elena of Avalor, in Marco Díaz from Star vs. the Forces of Evil. Neither one of them was from my country, not even close, but it was as close as I could get.

Representation to me meant the beginning and sometimes end of the Jurassic Park movies, “Isla Nublar, 120 miles west of Costa Rica.” That island doesn’t even exist.

Nowadays, there’s an NCIS character who at some point talks about wanting to move to a beach in Costa Rica. I thought that was going to be it. She would retire, never be seen again on screen, but would still call every once in a while. I don’t regularly watch NCIS, but I pick it up randomly at times. Recently I saw that she didn’t even move to Costa Rica, so that’s that for my “representation.” I don’t know what has happened since, I mean it when I say that I don’t really know what happens on NCIS.

Representation can come in many different forms, in this case, it comes in the shape of a boy who only wants to belong somewhere, and another one finding his place, and finding comfort in his own body after struggling with it for so long.

Representation shows people that they aren’t alone. It shows how important it is to see someone like you on any type of media.

The mere acknowledgment of one’s identity or existence is an indescribable feeling. Seeing oneself in any type of media genuinely causes a great impact.

Representation is necessary, and it not only helps people feel seen, but it also teaches others about different aspects of life that they might not think about. People’s lives are different. Representation helps to put it into perspective.

-Mori (They/Xem)

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lullabyes22-blog · 1 year

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Forward, but Never Forget/XOXO - Ch: 2 - A Disloyal MotherF*cker

Summary: Zaun is free—and must grow into its unfamiliar new dimensions. So must Silco and Jinx. A what-if that diverges midway through the events of episode 8. Found family and fluff, politics and power, smut and slice-of-life, villainy and vengeance.

AO3 - Forward, But Never Forget/XOXO

FFnet - Forward, But Never Forget (XOXO)

Playlist on Youtube

Chapters: 1| 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20 | 21 | 22 | 23 | 24 | 25 | 26 | 27 | 28 | 29 | 30 | 31 | 32 | 33 | 34 | 35 | 36 | 37 | 38 | 39 | 40 | 41 | 42 | 43 | 44 | 45 | 46 | 47 | 48

CH 2: Silco calls for an assembly with the chem-barons. A troublemaker is put in his place. Sevika moves up.

Tw: Depictions of violence and strong language

I broke so many bones But none of them were ever my own

~ "Bad" – Royal Deluxe

The gloom of Zaun's history is brightened by colorful aphorisms.

Each one is a testament to the city's spirit, one of dysfunctional pride and dogged defiance. There are sayings common to the fishermen—a mummeling mudskipper—to refer to a man who talks a big game, but never hauls in a big catch. The miners have their own versions—cracking a vein into a vug—to describe a braggart who overstates his talents and gets buried alive for his troubles.

The Sumps are privy to the wickedest witticisms. A dribble short of a stained sheet—meaning an alleyside knee-trembler when you can't afford lodgings with a whore. Cunted up like a cuttlefish—meaning someone drugged and mugged in broad daylight. From the chumbox to the cumbox—meaning a petty con who is framed for murder.

Silco's favorite is the most straightforward. It has spawned from the Undercity's depths: smoke and salt and shadow. It is hissed in the bars between empty shot-glasses and satchels clinking with coin. It is hollered in the clubs, blood-red spotlights striking off fists roped in muscles or pocked with needle tracks. It is spoken tenderly, as during late-morning lovemaking; it is whistled sharply, as one bids a dog to heel.

A disloyal motherfucker is born dead every minute.

Zaunites have a talent for poetry.

His motorcar swoops up the Lanes—a monstrous blur of shellacked metal. Inside, Silco sits in darkness and silence. The passenger room is emptied save for himself. Sevika rides in front with the chauffeur. She knows better than to engage him in small-talk.

Outside, it is almost completely dark. The bomb-shattered streets hold an eerie emptiness. The curfew is still in effect. The shelling has collapsed entire city blocks; poor workmanship has taken care of the rest. It is too dangerous to be outdoors. Plenty of things goin' bump in the night, as Jinx sometimes says.

Strangely, nobody has left town. Oh, there was the odd cold-footer here and there, sneaking past the city limits and into Piltover. Silco had ordered them shot on sight. Their bodies still dangle from Zaun's subterranean battlements, pecked clean by the crows.

But the locals have all stayed. Zooming down the streets, Silco spots faces hovering behind the windows, ghostly and candle-lit. Haunted, like huge portions of the Undercity. The rest of the streets are patrolled by his chem-suited blackguards. Those who can knock on any door, flout any law, break any neck, to keep the peace.

Idly, Silco traces the folding knife tucked into his boot.

Better blackguards than corpses.

Distantly, gunfire echoes through the desolation. Old scores are being settled. All else is black.

Silco sinks against the leather seat. The space beside him burns emptily. He wants Jinx here. He wants to show her the coal-heaps of devastation, then pour them into the furnace of their shared ingenuity. Plans to overhaul the infrastructure; plans to purify the air; plans to commercialize and privatize.

He remembers all those heady late-evening chats with his girl, sitting together in this motorcar. Once a month, they'd go on long neon-lit drives through the Undercity. Just the two of them, the chauffeur shut off behind the privacy screen. Moments that seemed to Silco like carnival-colored bliss—the half-open opera window a film-reel of breweries, shipyards, emporiums and casinos, the air scented with smoke and coffee and gunpowder and booze.

And Jinx.

Silco's mind drifts in itself. Six years, and she was always by his side: the shot in his eye and the song in his heart. Six years, and she'd helped him transform the Undercity from a black-and-white snapshot of dead-ends into a portrait in dazzling Technicolor, aglow with potential.

Just like her.

(We had good innings, didn't we, child?)

Six years, and Silco had risen as the Fissures' most prominent industrialist, a fixture even in Piltover's society magazines. Their acceptance was begrudging, the path riven with crimps and clogs. Undercity businesses were levied with taxes; its entrepreneurs were spurned. Silco's own steel mills made a fraction of the profits his Topside counterparts raked in. Fortunately, shortcuts belowground supplemented his income. Like any Zaunite worth his salt, he'd had brushes with Piltover's courts. Thrice, he was indicted for tax evasion; each trial resulted in a hung jury, and insufficient evidence. Nothing could scratch his reputation.

In Piltovan society, he'd established himself as a figure of humble beginnings. A self-made man who'd succeeded on the straight-and-narrow. He was never admitted to their more genteel sanctums, but he never aspired to them, either.

In a world of old money, he'd made his own.

Belowground, he and Jinx had relished the good life. Nothing flashy :a low-key pragmatism served the long-game. But he'd indulged Jinx after the privations of their past. Noxian cigars and single-malt whiskeys for him; imported glowpaints and handcrafted toolkits for her. They'd kept the Drop as their headquarters. But he'd bought properties at all three Undercity levels. Some were fronts. Others were legitimate.

Naturally, Jinx had her favorites. An augmentation parlor at Bridgewaltz called Inqued (She'd gotten her trademark tattoos there, a sixteenth-birthday gift he'd permitted despite his private distaste for body-art as the self-aggrandizement of poseurs and peons, unable to refuse her anything.) A boxing gym at Factorywood called The Grindstone (She'd gone there for nightly combat lessons, a grueling rigor designed to fine-tune her mind and muscles until she'd snapped blows at targets so fast you couldn't hit her with a puff of smoke). A Jazz club at the Skylight Commercia called Blue Note (She'd loved dragging him to the dancefloor to foxtrot, playfully lip-synching lyrics that are now branded into his memory along with the yearly ascent of Jinx's head to elevated portions of his three-piece suit: her forehead resting on the spot under his ribs, then between them, then right against his black heart as she'd croon, The stars get red and oh! The night's so bluuuuuuue.)

Afterward, she and Silco would tour the streets in his gleaming motorcar. And talk of Zaun.

(This 'thing of ours'—isn't that what you called it?)

Silco rubs his left temple with two fingertips.

Gods, all the years they'd spent, spinning webs and sowing chaos—what triumph it would be to share it now. To have Jinx tucked against his side as always, his arm around her, her blue head nestled under his chin. Hearing her mad little laugh and her peppy prattle. Seeing the glow in her eyes as he heaped those coal-lumps of hard labor into diamonds at her feet.

Instead, they are both robbed: Silco of the joy of Jinx's presence, and Jinx of the closure that she'd always coveted—proof that her bombs and brains and bloodthirst were the perfect chemical ingredients to catalyze Zaun's freedom.

She has freed Zaun. A fair one-to-one transaction; blood for blood.

Yet the cost is too high for one girl to shoulder.

(Let me share it, Jinx.)

(As we shared everything else.)

The motorcar rolls up to the fantastical façade of a six-story cathedral. It once served as a congregation for the Veiled Lady—a burnished honeycomb with hundreds of purple-stained windows. Once, amid the extravaganza of neighboring architecture—turrets, steeples, obelisks—it was obsequious. Now the nearby buildings have been razed by bombs. In the brutalized emptiness, the cathedral is all that remains.

To superstitious Zaunites, it is a miracle. To Silco, it is a passing convenience. The territory is a neutral zone for the Undercity's core crime families. The Big Five. When Silco first rose to prominence in the Lane's shadowy backwaters, they vied for control over much of its territories, with borders drawn in blood.

The list was a Who's Who of chem-royalty: swaggering bigwigs, criminal masterminds and bloodthirsty dons. Chross, a Piltovan-bred information broker and the leader of The Hush Company—an umbrous plugboard for illicit backstreet dealings. Margot, a former parole official from Stillwater prison, who had expanded her talents into literal human bondage, and now presides as the luminary procuress of the Vyx, her finger in every pie from flesh-peddling to fashion. Petrock, a veteran from the tail-end of the Noxus-Ionia wars, who rose in the ranks thanks to a bluntly ruthless streak and a propensity to shoot from the hip—literally. Crimson, one of the flashiest entrepreneurs in the Undercity, with a venerable Oshra Va'Zaun bloodline and a fortune invested in real estate and stock trading. Volkage, a third-generation steel mogul whose family had built their dynastic fortune in the ore mines, where his grandfather and Silco once drudged shoulder-to-shoulder.

Silco had ascended to the zenith by merging the Big Five into a core nucleus—a juggernaut that crushed any hint of rebellion. He'd structured them into a commission, like a board of directors. Each member was a head from the Big Five's families; they would periodically assemble to make decisions on the Undercity's goings-on. Territories were divided among each representative gang, cutting the turf out so there was no overlap—or potential for conflict.

All told? A workable arrangement.

The Big Five were ubiquitous in Zaun's public life: social butterflies at decadent soirees, their insignias as well-known as their faces, whether splattered in graffiti across the alleyside billboard of a moldering tenement at Sump-level, or staring from a gilded portrait frame at an air-conditioned saloon at the Promenade. Meanwhile Silco—the man who controlled the Undercity—remained a shadowy myth. Few knew him by sight. Rather, he was an object of feverish speculation. The all-seeing Eye. To some, he was a sinister string-puller and a mystical sorcerer rolled into one. To others, he embodied the Undercity's zeitgeist at its most corrupt and infernal: the Devil in a three-piece suit.

Yet it was on the streets that Silco's grip was most evident. At a moment's notice, he could call an assembly of chem-barons, and bring the Undercity to a grinding halt. Factories would shudder to stillness; shopkeepers would whip down their shutters; clerks would scurry out from their offices like rats abandoning a sinking ship.

Tonight is no different.

In the cathedral's courtyard, five luxury motorcars are arrayed like gleaming cockroaches. Giant diesel-powered generators rumble in the shadows to combat the power shortage. Armed blackguards stand at the stained-glass gates. As one, they snap to attention when Silco ascends the stairs, Sevika on his heels. Two men open the doors with smart salutes.

Sevika winks at the bigger one, and follows Silco into the cathedral.

The interior exudes a musty stillness. The rose-windows at the top floor are soot-speckled. Moonlight slants inside to pick up a violet patina of dust. The chem-barons sit at an oak conference table. In the unearthly radiance, they resemble a motley of waxwork figures. Their faces and finery are reflected in the mirrored alcoves lining the walls. Stylized poses of self-satisfaction replaced by dour moues of displeasure.

For three months, they've coasted on revelries a mile high. Now Silco has dragged them down to earth.

His footsteps barely echo through the darkened corridors. Yet the first glimpse of him sends a muted ripple through the room. Sevika pulls out a chair; Silco sits at the table's head with the slinky, unnerving grace that characterizes all his movements. For a moment, silence. The softer sounds of the cathedral envelop them. The chem-barons seem to be holding their breath.

Without preamble, Silco says, "You failed to convene at headquarters."

The chem-barons exchange low-key looks.

The dapper yet dithering Crimson says, "We were getting nervous."

"'We' who?"

"All of us. The atmosphere's too volatile. Better to meet on neutral territory."

"Wish granted." Silco gestures with a pale splay of fingers. "Provided you had the sense not to descend en masse."

A scattering of nods.

"Good."

Too many shockwaves passing through the Undercity. Too much paranoia. For security, Silco had ordered the five chem-barons—the core coterie of Zaun's wealth—to arrive one by one at each rendezvous spot, with intervals in between, and to always be accompanied by his blackguards.

History is crowded with coups. Especially belowground. The hierarchy here is one of viper against viper. A whiff of blood, and they all come slithering out. Silco has commanded them for years, and understands their natures. For three months, he's turned a would-be blind eye. He's watched them glut themselves on the spoils of war. Grow surfeited rather than sharp.

Easiest to catch off-guard.

"Well," he says, legs crossing as he leans back in slow appraisal, "Why the long faces?"

More glances, synced less by conspiracy than cowardice.

Margot, in a sleek black leather ensemble that lacks only a bullwhip, says, "We saw your latest decree to the Cabinet."

"Which one?"

"The taxes." She bites her lip. "Are you truly passing a tariff on imports?"

"Zaun must raise revenue."

Petrock scrubs mechanized fingers through his ashy beard, a series of matchstick rasps. "What about the duties on foreign vessels? That's fuckin' crazy. You expect my trading partners to honor it?"

"Make them honor it. Zaun's shipments must take precedence."

"What about—" Volkage, black hair curling down his cheekbone like a stylized oil-slick, scoffs, "—this Charter of Zaunite Rights. You jerking us around? Equal opportunity for education and ownership. Right to trade. You expect us to rub shoulders with the coal-heavers, now?"

Volkage's grandfather was a coal-heaver. A tough old bastard; he'd fought alongside Silco to unionize the mines.

Evidently, memory is not his grandson's métier.

"We must strengthen loyalty for the fledgling government," Silco says. "Zaunites have lent tremendous support to our cause. Right now, they are hungry and hurting. They need something to rally behind. A Charter of Rights is a good focal point. A new faith to follow. It's equivocal enough to make everyone feel included. But it also gives them a part to play. In bettering Zaun, they better themselves."

Chross peers owlishly at Silco over his miniature eyeglasses. "That's all capitally done, Silco. But our biggest concern is this, urm. Overseership of War and Treasury."

"What of it?"

"Is it legitimate? Full authority over us and all that?"

"Absolutely."

Chross' gray-mottled complexion turns inside-out. "That, urm. Complicates matters."

"Throws a wrench in our fuckin' spokes more like!" Petrock explodes. "Silco—why?"

"As a safeguard."

"Ours, or yours?" Margot says delicately. "As the Eye of Zaun, you've always turned a blind eye to our dealings. A sweet arrangement. For us, and for you. Overseership would sour it. You understand?"

"Of course."

Silco understands. The air was already pungent with their self-interest. Now it stinks with a fresh layer of fear. They entered the revolution on the same page as him. Now they are discerning brand-new paragraphs of fine print.

There is a lot about Zaun's long-term goals that Silco hadn't disclosed yet. They haven't questioned his reticence. Why would they? To them, Silco's needs are tantamount to theirs: pillage and plunder. They style themselves as predators. But at their core, they are parasites. They view the world in binaries of cash and carnage—a balance sheet with no human element. In doing so, they alienate the common people as potential pawns. They antagonize allies. Worse, they leave themselves exposed to the lures of bigger predators; ones who exploit their greed—hook, line and sinker—before devouring them.

Predators like Silco.

In a tone of soft insinuation, he says, "Are you concerned I'll seize your holdings?"

Their hasty glances are eloquent.

"Tell me candidly. Have I given you reason, thus far, to distrust my decisions?"

More looks are swapped. Chross, the most ancient and artful of the lot, takes the stand. "You're a visionary, Silco. You've always thrived in risk. The rest of us? We're cut from the same mold as any Undercity entrepreneur. We like smoothness. We love money. We hate unpredictability."

"Revolution is unpredictable," Silco says with deceptive gentleness. "For you, I've also made it profitable."

"Oh, indeed." Chross lets off a tiny cough. "You've been mighty generous. We trust your future kindness will extend to our assets, not—"

"Not an Overseership halfway up our arses," Volkage cuts in, lip curling in a sneer. "Zaun's not Piltover. It doesn't need interference. It sure as hell doesn't need delusions of democracy."

Silco nods, as if considering. "Piltover was all about checks and balances. But we've seen what a first-rate job they did in checking and balancing us. That's why the Undercity is based on workarounds. Why Zaun exists at all."

"So you agree?"

"With what?"

"That Zaun should stay an oligarchy."

"Were we ever anything else?"

The We is a seductive lure. The chem-barons snap it up. A few of them crack smiles—Ah, Silco, such a joker. Then their smiles fade. Silco's expression is reminiscent of something that has crawled out of the abyss: his good eye gone as inky as the bad one, the edges of his lips curled to show teeth like a row of jagged tombstones.

"Piltover loves to sell the illusion of equality," Silco says. "Except we've already encountered its limitations. Those born Topside are more equal than those belowground. Worse, in treating everyone 'equally,' they elevate the incompetent and bury the accomplished. Oligarchies are spared that conundrum. Their aim is to empower those capable of making the best decisions—without delay. There is no efficiency in a structure where every ruffian has a say in rulership."

"Then why the edicts?" Crimson stomps his boot like a belligerent child. "A handful would be fine. But why bell by bell?"

"Because things are broken," Silco says. "They were broken under Piltover. The Council never lifted a finger in times of crisis. Under Zaun, there will be a system—at bare minimum—to respond to the crisis."

"What crisis are you talking about?"

Silco nearly pinches the bridge of his nose. Must he putrefy the room with Fissure gas again?

"The crisis," he says, in a voice unexpectedly honed to slit jugulars, "of cowardice."

Silence descends with sharpness. The chem-barons sense the mood shift; they sink uncomfortably in their seats.

Good.

Uncomfortable targets are untalkative targets.

"You want an oligarchy?" Silco says. "Then remember what oligarchies are for. Enforcing lifelong power. You cannot do that unless you rule through a semblance of foresight."

His eyes rake inexorably across the room.

"You've had three months," he says, "to do the bare minimum. Restore power to the blackout zones. Rebuild the shelled streets. Get rid of the rotten corpses. That was the bargain, wasn't it? Post-separation, your forces would plunder Piltover's leftovers to their heart's content. But afterward, you'd show incentive. Clean up the mess Piltover created."

The chem-barons say nothing. They resemble chastised schoolchildren. Except their silence isn't shame. It's self-preservation. Silco knows them too well for their own damned good.

"There are already riots in the Sumps," he says. "Unless the embers are stamped out, revolt will run rampant. The Zaunites feel abandoned in their hour of pain. People in pain seek refuge in nostalgia. In the past—Piltover. Edicts alone won't erase their memory. They need gas and electricity. Food. You were ordered to ration surplus for a reason. Not to line your pockets, or lavish on your parties."

"Why's it even matter?" Volkage glowers. "If those rats get feisty, smack 'em down."

"Smack 'em down, hmm?"

"Down and hard." Volkage slams his knuckles on the table in emphasis. Needless emphasis; a flourish of cheap demagoguery. "Sic the blackguards on them. That's what I'd do."

"How many blackguards?" The mockery in Silco's tone verges on mildness. "Fifty? A hundred? Five hundred?"

"I—"

"And do you know how many will be in the mobs? Or what they'll use for weapons? Half the able-bodied in Zaun served as our militia. The other half are raving mad with hunger. Tell us how to best them, so we can plan ahead. Oh, and the Firelights. We'll need to nip their antics in the bud, too. Can you arrange for that? That's assuming you aren't the first to die, at the hands of your own houseboy. But maybe you can avoid it. Same way you could probably whip your prick out and win blindfolded in a knife fight, right?"

Silco seldom descends to profanity. When it happens, it's a sign that the other side of him—the side nobody dares to reckon with—is stirring to life.

Volkage's face curdles into whiteness. But he is too proud or too stupid to back down.

"The riots aren't our doing," he says. "You're the First Chancellor. You deal with it. Better yet—make Jinx do it! Not like she's been good for much else lately!"

The room shrinks and the shadows lengthen.

The chem-barons begin perspiring. Silco tastes their buried fear. At his left shoulder, Sevika swallows minimally. Her fear is tangible too, but different from the others.

They know Jinx as she was before the bloodbath at Bridgeside: buoyantly bratty. Quick to flash a smile or fling an incendiary. They don't know Jinx as she's been the past three months: wreathed in an inertia that verges on bottomless. A girl who barely eats, who perpetually sleeps, and who spends bells staring trancelike at empty walls, her blue hair unbound and spilling like riverwater across the bed, her eyes wet as a drowner's.

Absently, Silco slips a hand into his waistcoat. He withdraws—not a weapon—but a sterling silver cigar case. Its engraved surface holds a mirrorlike gleam. It reflects the hundreds of stained-glass windows in the interior, their multitudes like an insect's compound eyes. Snapping open the case, he lights up a cigarette. Fragrant brightleaf fills the air; twin red pinpricks glow in his bad eye and the cherry's tip. Taking a drag, he says nothing for a moment. The chem-barons say nothing too, for different reasons.

After a handful of heartbeats, Silco murmurs, "A child to do a man's job."

The chem-barons brace themselves with a palpable tension.

"Pardon?" Chross says.

"A child to do a man's job.” His fingertips caress the cigarette. “Apt summation of your incompetence. A child won the war for you. Thanks to her bombs, Zaun broke free. Thanks to her knowledge of Hextech, we vaporized Piltover's forces. Thanks to her bravery, you sit here, in this room, wasting my time with your whingeing."

The chem-barons are silent. Margot opens her plush pink mouth, then closes it with a little pop. Chross rubs his creased forehead with a withered fingertip. Crimson pretends to be absorbed by his varnished fingernails. Petrock shoves his mechanical arms into his greatcoat. Only Volkage makes himself stay still, although he eyes Silco from a few yards of safe distance.

"If you don't like our whingeing," he says, "you sure as hell won't like what comes next."

It's a threat, and not a subtle one. Cute. Threats are a tool of the streets—effective in the short-term. But behind closed doors, they are sparingly used. Silco deploys them as a rare shock tactic to whip slackers into shape. But on the whole, he prefers finessed fins to flashing fangs.

Finesse clearly isn't Volkage's métier either.

"Zaun's free from Uppside's grip," he says to Silco. "It's ours now. We'll drag it from the muck on our time, at our speed."

"So far, I've seen only the muck."

"I'll happily show you worse, you one-eyed sack of shit."

From the chem-barons: a collective wince. Silco makes a sound of morbid curiosity in his throat.

"Will you?"

Volkage, trapped in the live target of himself, struggles to match Silco's stare. "You've gone too far. First the trade edicts. Then the taxes. Then the bloody Overseership. None of this is why we hitched our star to your wagon."

"Indeed not."

"We expected more influence, once Zaun was ours. Not less! You're trying to reduce our holdings. Trying, with double-edged tactics, to take what's ours. And what for? To share with the commoners? What right do they have to our riches? Hell, what right do you?"

"Think carefully. You'll remember."

"You remember! Your past and your place! You won the war with our backing as much as Jinx's bombs. You'd be nothing without us. You are nothing, once the Undercity's in our hands." His eyes beseech the other barons, a desperate pitch to turn the tables. "Why spread ourselves thin? Better to spread our wings. Leave him in the dirt—and fly to greater heights!"

"Show me," Silco says.

Volkage stares.

"Go on." Silco smiles, a tepid reflex turned terrifying. "Fly."

"What—?"

Volkage is not allowed to finish.

From her spot behind Silco's seat, Sevika charges across the room, a purple-hazed blur wielding a steel-tipped blade. It whistles as it slices the air—right through Volkage's left arm. Sinew separates like butter under a hot knife. Blood splatters. Shrieking, Volkage staggers backward. His bicep dangles from his shoulder by the barest twist of tendons. The right arm lifts to ward off the blade. Sevika grabs his wrist with her human hand, snapping it sideways. Bones crunch. Volkage lashes back and forth in her grip like a skewered eel.

"No!" he howls. "No!"

Sevika drags him toward the largest window. Diffuse moonlight strikes off its purple-stained scrollwork. Volkage howls again—an ear-splitting pitch—before she tosses him out with tremendous force.

Glass explodes into a hundred blazing pinwheels. Voklage swandives through empty air. Splinters glint madly in his wake. He crashes into the wilderness of barbwire encircling the cathedral's gate. His body dangles spreadeagled in the thorny bier. Tiny trickles of blood run down his skin. His eyes hang lifelessly open.

Death by a cracked neck, or a million papercuts.

Dustmotes swirl in the silence. Humid wind pours through the shattered window. In the fogged sky, crows circle.

"Huh," Sevika muses. "Couldn't fly after all."

Silco's lips twitch at the corners. The remaining chem-barons stay welded to their seats. Their mouths are soldered shut; their eyes are glued to Volkage's far-flung corpse.

There is a scrape of chair legs across tiles. Silco rises, half-languid, half-looming. The cigarette drops; he grinds the butt under his boot heel.

"Run the mouth," he says, "ruin the mood."

There is an excruciating silence, in which the chem-barons appear to quantify their own lives with internal clock ticks. Then Chross—bless his survivalist's soul—offers a tight-lipped smile.

"Chem-whelps do get fresh, don't they?"

"Insufferably so."

Crimson fiddles with his cufflinks, "I'm glad that's done. Been wanting to shut him up myself."

"Is that right?"

Margot hastens to nod. "We'd never tolerate such disrespect."

"A third-rate pillock." Petrock tugs the bristly scrim of his beard. "Shoulda taken him out sooner."

"Or later," says Silco neutrally, "I'd rather not make a habit of this."

The chem-barons sneak glances at him. There is no humor in Silco's expression. But his body-language is easygoing. No explicit threat necessary; the subtext is enough.

Don't try this again.

Chross pastes on a big smile, and Crimson manages a nod. Margot titters and Petrock grunts under his breath. Somewhere in purgatory, Volkage's spirit takes posthumous notes.

Moonlight winks off the dead man's chair. Silco runs a spindly, sharp-tipped finger along the arm.

"I'm reminded," he says, "of an old phrase."

"Don't skeet where you eat?" Margot suggests.

"The other one."

"Even trigger fingers get the hiccups?" Petrock says.

"Older than that."

At the window, Sevika's lighter sparks. She's withdrawn one of Silco's brightleaf tobacco rolls from her inside pocket. The cherry reflects two orange dots in her dark eyes.

Exhaling smoke, she says, "A disloyal motherfucker is born dead every minute."

Silco crooks a finger. "That one."

The chem-barons sit in burgeoning silence. Their eyes follow Silco as he cuts a lazy circuit around Volkage's empty chair.

"Zaun," he says, "cannot abide by disloyalty. Not from Volkage—or anyone else. You've enjoyed three months of debauchery, while the city burned. You'll get three months more, to douse the fires of your own laziness. Rebuild the ruins. Rehabilitate the people. No more, no less. Petrock—" he turns to the weapons dealer, his features hardening to brimstone, "Gather new recruits. I want them cracking down on the weak-spots in our territory. Find any compromised perimeters where the Firelights are hiding. Smoke them out, and kill them."

Petrock gives him a clipped soldier's nod. His orders have been issued; he's pleased to rejoin the fray.

"Margot—" Silco's good eyelid shades as if they are alone with the door dead-bolted behind them. "Start opening the gates of your establishments. Convert them into shelters and women's clinics. The sufferers will need them in the coming months. If a girl's belly is big with an Enforcer's baby, get rid of it. If it's too late, drown the brat in the Pilt. We'll take neither their leavings nor raise their bastards."

Margot lowers her eyelashes obligingly.

"Chross—" Silco turns with a flicker of bitter amusement, "You've been busy gathering intel. On myself, and everyone in our orbit. Don't deny it. Do me a favor instead. Summon your experts in politics, film, and espionage. The ones with bright minds and brighter ideas. I want a directorate sent to my office next week. Thereafter, every week. We'll go over current affairs and plan statewide coverage. A nation is as great as its media machine, and those who run it must be loyal."

Chross thumbs his sunglasses up the bridge of his nose and cheerfully smacks his lips.

"Crimson—" Silco wields his steel-tipped glower like a headmaster's cane. "Get your damned cronies in line. Send me every entrepreneur with deep pockets and a head for real estate development. I want them to rip apart the system Piltover's left behind. Redistribute the resources. We've succeeded thus far in privatizing much of our enterprise. Now I want the biggest privatized companies tricked out and made competitive."

Crimson fiddles with his waistcoat before mumbling assent.

"Volkage—oh." Silco pulls a face of farcical regret. "Already flew the coop." He traces the empty chair again. "I meant to discuss our brand-new bank with him. I had good news. The Bank of Zaun will lend any and all new businesses loans, so they can finance themselves on competitive terms. We'll even throw in a modest liquidity injection here and there."

They chem-barons exchange looks. Silco marvels at how brightly greed makes their eyes shine.

"That is capital news," Chross says.

"Hear, hear!" Crimson cheers.

Silco smiles thinly.

There is no sweeter siren's call than the melody of money. He's never forgotten it as a sumpsnipe; he's never forgotten it as a kingpin. Just as he's never forgotten what a persistent thorn the chem-barons have been in his side, throughout his struggle to drag Zaun from Piltover's stranglehold. Now they expect tribute. Give them too little; they'll seethe and scheme. Give them too much; they'll suck the treasury dry. Better to trap them in a limbo of their own languishing. Grant them high-flying lifestyles on enormous credit. Then, bit by bit, impoverish them in their efforts to maintain it.

Once dependent on Zaun's largesse, they will be locked inside his jaws.

"Pity," Margot says. "If you'd opened with this juicy tidbit, Volkage might've lived."

Silco cants his head. "We shall overcome."

"Fuckin' right!" Petrock claps Silco on the back. "For Zaun!"

"For Zaun."

Sevika has found a handful of golden chalices in storage. She sets them on the table and drains her flask into their cups. Silco lifts his own in a toast to the chem-barons. The other arm folds behind his back, easier to conceal the pale-fingered flash of deuces. An old hand-signal used among the deaf—and recognizable only to Sevika. She smiles, unseen.

Silco's own lip twists sideways. "I've a final bit of good news."

"By all means," Chross says. "Share."

"It concerns the Overseership of War and Treasury."

"Oh?"

"Specifically the newcomer at its helm."

This catches the chem-barons off-guard. Still, they endeavor to seem relaxed.

"Anyone we know?" Margot asks.

Translation: Anyone we can threaten or bribe?

"Somewhat."

"Ooh. A dark horse?"

"Hardly." Silco smiles, and aims his smile beyond their shoulders. "One of our own."

Volkage's empty chair is scraped back. There is the sound of someone sitting heavily down, and laying their boots across the table.

As one, the chem-barons turn.

Sevika sits in Volkage's spot, a half-full cup laid across her outstretched knees. She scratches her cheekbone with the other hand, plucks the rolled cigarillo from her mouth, and exhales smoke through a white arc of teeth. Beneath her casualness, there is a disciplined stolidity to her body that signals that she is ready to sit there a long, long time.

"Loyal Zaunites," Silco says, "meet our official second-in-command."

The chem-barons stare speechlessly. Sevika tips them a wink.

"Sevika has served our cause since the beginning," Silco says. "She has shown diligence and daring. Above all—loyalty. I can think of no one better suited to serve you in turn. She will bring a steady head and a strong arm to her role. From here on in, you will answer to her as to me. Is that understood?"

Four heads nod as one, struck to silence. They eye Sevika like a dragon circling over their castles.

An apt comparison. Silco cannot completely curb the chem-barons' influence. Doing so curbs his own. Better to give them liberty within limits. It affords him the opportunity to study them, gathering dirt and gauging deceptions. Sevika is best suited for the task. She speaks the language of the Lanes; compromise without corruption. She will grant them leeway in their short-term goals. Meanwhile, Silco will lock them down in the long game. Her aerie of control, versus his perpetuity of power.

Power.

He need no longer wrest it from Piltover. He will solidify it right here.

Sevika's dark eyes meet his. Whatever passes between them is devoid of the sedative of sentimentality. Theirs is a transaction of blood debt squaring blood debt, the signatures set in stone. A tombstone, inked with old names. The coldest, hardest print of them all.

Sevika lifts her cup, and says, "To Zaun."

The chem-barons follow her lead. They toast each other and drink. Inevitably, adrenalized alcohol has its way with reticence. One by one they approach Sevika. Taking her measure, as she takes theirs. In five minutes, they are lapping at the shores of conversation. Five minutes more, and they are submerged in waves of shared laughter.

Bargains will be struck tonight. The status quo, precariously balanced, will teeter into a new state of equilibrium.

(So will you, Jinx.)

(In time.)

Silco tips his own cup back, swallowing. He stares out the broken window, wet with blood, to a darkly glowing Zaun.

***

The motorcar drives back through slickly humid streets.

The curfew is still in effect. But the power grid has been restored. A ramshackle row of neon signs reflect off tainted puddles; the road is mottled with pools of green, pink, purple.

Their fitful radiance shows up the shelling damage in detail.

Silco stares out through the milky glaze of his opera window. His reflection in the glow of passing gas-lamps is halved by scar and shadow: the sharp-cut smoothness hidden away, the cicatrices on morbid display. His bad eye, ringed in red, resembles impure blood.

Unblinking, it takes in the burnt-out exoskeletons of buildings. Here and there, entire chunks of concrete have been blasted away. The iron piping shines like bare bones, poulticed in spots, in others dripping into the streets like pus. Silco fixates on the black divots across the roads and the tangled electrical wires on the walls: burst blisters and collapsed arteries.

The Undercity is like a plague victim. Yet he senses its breathing. The surface is disfigured, yet beneath that, life thrums hot and implacable. Fresh green saplings spring from scorched-over soil, don't they? Zaun is no different. Eventually, it will disgorge a new version of itself into existence.

(Soon, my lovely.)

Up front, Sevika says, "Sir."

"Hm?"

"We've got company."

Silco elbows forward to stare between hers and the chauffeur's heads. Sure enough—a commotion at Bridgeside. High-intensity spotlights blaze down the river's harbor, making the dirty water iridescent with chemical rainbows. A troop of blackguards on armored hoverboards float above the basin, the blades of their rotors whirring in double-time. The spotlights break into spears off a ship docked at the port, glinting off its polished hull and spotless gangplank.

A ship with Piltover's crest at the masthead.

"…the fuck," Sevika mutters. "Why's Uppside here?"

"It's their envoy."

"What?"

"I told you. There were negotiations in the works."

"They came to us? Used to be the opposite."

"Used to be."

But no longer.

Once the ceasefire commenced, Piltover and Zaun had locked diplomatic horns. A fruitless state of affairs for both parties; they found themselves mired in arguments for weeks. Zaun was smaller, more vulnerable; the delay would weaken its resolve and drain its reserves, before wearing Silco down into making concessions. Had he sent emissaries to Piltover, it would've been worse. Zaun would be trapped by the Council's favorite tactic: delay. They would make promises, waste time, and enervate his emissaries into getting their own way.

Silco has no patience for that.

He'd moved against Piltover with the riskiest ace up the sleeve. Silence. Ignored their decrees, sent back their missives. In doing so, he dealt a blow to their pride. No response meant no access. No access meant no information. Topside was already paranoid. They suspected that Zaun would renew its attacks. His silence left them frustrated—the frustration a fine veneer over fear.

Played sparingly, the move had benefits. But Silco couldn't let the Topsiders flounder in the grey-zone forever. Sooner or later, their trigger finger—to quote Petrock—would get the hiccups. Zaun is still wounded. So are its people. They can't afford a reprise of the war. The odds may be less kind this time.

So, at the eleventh hour, Silco answered Piltover's missive. He'd determined the conditions of the negotiations. On his terms. On his turf.

The new order of things.

His mood, at a mordant baseline, soars a degree higher. The sight of Piltover's ship in Zaun. Their immaculate metal in his blackened waters. It is bloody spectacular. It is the stuff of Topside's nightmares. A promise of more nightmares to come.

Softly, he says, "Ready the entourage."

"Casuals, or formals?" Sevika asks.

She means—Armed to kill, or armed to guard?

"Mix it up."

"You expecting trouble?"

Silco unleashes a slow smile.

"We'll see."

#arcane #arcane league of legends #arcane fanfic #arcane silco #arcane sevika #arcane jinx #arcane vander #arcane vi #silco #sevika #jinx #silco fanfic #silco x sevika #fanfic #forward but never forget/xoxo #forward (never forget)/xoxo #zaun #piltover

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blazehedgehog · 2 years

Note

I know you covered the Panzer Dragoon Remake a couple years back now, but have you played the original games? If so, what do you think of them? (I just beat Orta on the Xbox, which is a wicked good time, and it's made me curious to revisit the Saturn trilogy)

Playing the Remake is the most I've ever played a lot of these games. I never owned any of the original Panzer Dragoon games (I never saw them on shelves, and even when I did, I was just a broke kid).

And with emulation, that's often something where you "poke" at games but only ever maybe finish 0.5% of everything you touch. So I'd played Panzer Dragoon and Zwei, but never gave them my full, undivided attention, and never saw the credits roll. It's the difference between "testing out a Saturn emulator" and "sitting down to play Panzer Dragoon."

So, before Remake, I'd played maybe 30 minutes of either game. Now, since Remake, I've played the original Saturn version to completion (knowing how how short it is). Still haven't put much time in to Zwei, though. I streamed maybe 45 minutes or an hour to a friend on Discord earlier this year.

Never touched Saga. Never even looked at it. I don't want that to be a game I "poke at." When I play Panzer Dragoon Saga, I want it to be the sort of thing where I sit down and intend to finish it.

About a year, maybe two before Remake came out, a digital copy of Panzer Dragoon Orta was on sale on 360 for like $3, so I picked it up, and played an hour or two of it to contrast with Remake.

I think the thing about at least the first Panzer Dragoon game is that when you're only really sampling it, it feels incredibly simple. The game doesn't openly track score, there isn't dialog during play (like, say, Star Fox), and the game isn't especially difficult. So you're just kind of vibing and it's kind of boring. Like Rez, without the rhythm element.

I don't know if that ever really goes away, but I do know that Zwei is definitely more challenging and engaging, and Orta has all kinds of mechanics with switching dragon modes.

Anyway, I like it. I think I said this in my review for Panzer Dragoon Remake, but, I get the same vibe from that as I do, like, a Team Ico game. It's got that same kind of otherworldly melancholy of, like Ico, or The Last Guardian, or Shadow of the Colossus. It's not your typical fantasy world.

I still don't think the Forever Entertainment guys are very good at their remakes. House of the Dead was at least slightly more polished than Panzer Dragoon, but they still have kind of a sloppy, rough, devil-may-care attitude to how they handle these remakes. They've vowed to remake all of the Panzer Dragoon games, and frankly, I'm dreading what they'd do to Saga, assuming they ever get there.

#questions #Anonymous #panzer dragoon #sega #saturn #team andromeda #forever entertainment

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fiveisnumber1 · 3 years

Text

Blast to the Past - A Timeless Side Piece

Here’s like a somewhat short little piece, my brain just decided to come up with this concept after a conversation with @oceanspray5 so I wrote it down. If you read it, let me know your thoughts, I’d love to hear them! Thanks ❤️

August 6th, 2043

Like most mornings, you sat around the kitchen table having breakfast with your family. Typically all of the Hargreeves siblings would be present but they had gone out for their own breakfast this morning to celebrate Vanya’s promotion as conductor of the local orchestra, leaving you, Five and your children to have breakfast without them. Your darling husband, Five, sat to your right and held your hand as he drank his morning coffee. And across the table sat your two beautiful children. You smiled as you listened to your daughter Lia detail how she and some of her cousins were going to go shopping for first day of school outfits this coming weekend. On the other hand your son, Penn, was quiet. He pushed around the meal on his plate as he looked between his food and his father. You couldn’t tell exactly what was going on in his head but you knew that it had to deal with Five. Giving Five’s hand a squeeze he looked towards you. With a slight tilt of your head you gestured towards your son just at the right time for Five to catch his eye.

“Is something wrong buddy? You’ve barely touched your breakfast.” Five questioned

Penn stayed silent as he looked at his dad. Something was wrong and it had been weighing on his mind for a while. Straightening his posture he put down his fork as he took a deep breath. The rest of the family looked on quietly as Penn turned to Five and asked,

“Hey dad, you think I can try traveling back in time a few minutes?”

Five knew this topic would come up at some point when he started trying to teach him to time travel. He was his son, so of course he’d want to do more than what were in his capabilities. It just wasn’t feasible to move up to minutes given that he barely had control of traveling for seconds. Regretfully, Five looked at his son as he answered,

“Not yet, we’ve only hit going back in time 30 seconds.”

Penn’s face dropped as disappointment spread across his face. Seeing the change in demeanor Five tried to brighten things up by adding,

“Y’know what though, I’ll let us shoot for 45 seconds today. How about that?”

“Dad, I’ve been practicing seconds for the past 6 months, I want to do more.” Penn complained

Five looked at you and saw the concerned look on your face. Five was trying to be reasonable in terms of his son’s feelings. He knew that getting to start learning to time travel was exciting to him given that he was only able to start learning those six months ago, but excitement did not equal experience.

“Penn, I appreciate your enthusiasm but your mom and I have explained on multiple occasions how dangerous time travel can be.” Five elaborates

“It’s taken your dad years to get to the level of control he has now.” You added

Penn could feel frustration build up inside him. He wanted to time travel in the same way his dad could. It wasn’t fair that he couldn’t move up to minutes. He definitely had mastered seconds so what was the hesitation with bringing up the amount of time? Standing up from his seat he gave a pointed look as he exclaimed,

“I’m ready to make that jump! I’m not asking for years just a few minutes!”

Five was shocked at his son’s outburst. He had never seen his son this upset and even in times where it came close he still had never shown this much. He knew it would upset him, but Five was doing this for his own son’s good. Sitting up straighter, Five looked at his son.

“Penn, I’m sorry but the answer is no.” Five firmly replied “We need to start small so there are no large consequences.”

The beginnings of sparks started to fly off of Penn as a blue glow whirred around his hands. You and Lia winced at the minor disturbance Penn was causing due to his anger. Instead of saying anything more though, he jumped away from the kitchen and with a flash of blue he was gone. Wanting to help her obviously distraught brother Lia quickly stated,

“I uh...need to make a phone call...”

“Who do you need to call at 10 am?” You questioned

“Oh y’know...uh...Spiderman?” Lia replied confused before quickly adding “Anyway bye.”

And just like that your daughter had also flashed away to follow her brother. With both your children gone from the table you and Five sat in a silence. Pulling his hand from yours, Five dropped his head into his hands.

“Ugh, I feel like my father right now.” He lamented

Your heart broke at his statement. You knew that Five was nothing like his father and constantly loved and cherished your children. He would give the entire world to them if he could. Having him compare himself to that shitty excuse of a man was so saddening because you knew he was only trying to keep Penn safe. Placing a hand on his back you leaned in closer as you tried to comfort him,

“Hey, you know you’re not your father. You didn’t say no to him, just not yet.”

Five looked up from his hands and over at you, the pain in his eyes was on full display.

“I know but it’s like staring myself in the face. I got mad I couldn’t time travel like I wanted during a meal with my family and here he is doing the same.” Five elaborates

“Darling, he has wanted to time travel just like you ever since he could comprehend the subject. He wants to be just like his dad.” You try to affirm

“I just don’t want him to make the same mistakes as his dad.” Five commented looking away from you

He knew the decision was the right one but nevertheless he felt so awful not being able to make his son happy. Placing a gentle hand on his cheek you bring his gaze back to yours. Giving him a slight smile you reply,

“I know. Maybe if we just give him a few minutes to cool off everything will be okay.”

“I hope so. I hate saying no to our kids.” Five stated

Your smile widened as you brought your face closer to your husband’s. Taking on a less serious tone you commented,

“You hate saying no to anyone in this family,”

You could see a smile start to reappear on his face. Oh how he loved you so dearly. Closing the space between you two, he placed a soft kiss to your lips. Pulling back he smiled as he responded,

“Especially you, ma chérie,”

Quietly, the two of you sat back in your chairs sipping you coffee as you patiently waited for your children to come back to the table. Upstairs though Penn flashed into the living room as he paced back and forth talking to himself,

“Ugh, it’s no fair. I wan’t to time travel more than just seconds. I’m ready for minutes!”

Flashing in a second later, Lia leaned against the living room door frame as she listened to her brothers rant. Crossing her arms over her chest she commented to him,

“You know you’re lucky you even get seconds. I can’t learn time travel for another two years.”

“Thats’s because you’re 13. you’re too young.” Penn retorts “Me on the other hand, I’m 15 which means I’m old enough to learn,”

Flashing away from the door frame Lia reappears closer to her brother floating upside down in the air.

“Just because you’re old enough to learn doesn’t mean you’re smart enough to do it.” Lia remarks before sticking her tongue out

“This is none of your business you car floor french fry.” Penn replies pushing her face back

Walking away from her, Penn makes his way towards the side of the room the piano was one. Transporting herself from her molecules from her position in the air Lia appears sitting criss-cross on top of the piano.

“It totally is my business,” Lia explains catching her brother’s attention, “You had this conversation in front of me dumbass,”

Penn rolled his eyes at his younger sister before using his powers to knock her off the piano top.

“Hey! You can’t just do that!” Lia complains

Standing up from the floor, Lia looks towards her brother who hard turned away from her again. Watching him she had noticed that Penn had taken up a position as if he was about to take off running.

“What are you doing?” She asked

“Just leave me alone, so I can jump back in time a minute.” Penn huffed

“But dad said no.” Lia reminds

“Lia, I can do a minute. It’s just 30 seconds more, I can’t fuck up 30 extra seconds.” Penn states still not looking back

“But dad-” Lia tries to say again

Penn was done with this. Whipping around he narrowed his eyes on her as he exclaimed,

“Forget what dad said alright! I’m doing it!”

Quickly he whipped back around as he took off on a running start, blue energy starting to form around him. Trying to stop her brother, Lia flashed to him attempting to tackle him to the ground. The two of them felt as the whirring of energy stopped. Both children stood up from the ground as they brushed themselves off. Annoyed that Lia had ruined his time travel practice he angrily scolded,

“Why did you do that? Something could’ve gone wrong.”

Lia didn’t reply. All she could manage to do was stare with wide eyes and mouth agape at something behind him.

“What’s with the stupid expression?” Penn questioned

Instead of saying any words she slowly raised her hand as she just pointed to whatever she was looking at behind him. Turning around, he looked in the direction of what his sister was seeing and was met with a sight he never expected to see. A depressing portrait of a younger version of his father staring down at him from over a fireplace. With the sudden realization of what had happened slipping in all Penn could manage to say was,

“Oh fuck.”

#the umbrella academy #tua #umbrella academy #umbrella acedmy #five hargreeves #tua five hargreeves #tua five #five #five hargreeves x you

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meimae · 3 years

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01/07/21

I'm finally on time for my June Immersion Overview! ...Well, at least in a different timezone I am! (๑•̀ㅂ•́)و✧

June was a weird month I suppose. I knew what I wanted to immerse in in terms of listening, but I was so indicisive for reading material. Everything seemed either too hard or too boring, so I just ended up dipping my toes in a variety of stuff until I ended falling back into the stuff I put on hold and have been dilly-dallying with.

It's really not for a lack of media, which makes immersion learning really good for Japanese since there's tons of it to consume all the time, I've just been kind of all over the place, not knowing if I like something enough to continue. Ahh, I miss the days when I could finish entire books and manga series in a month.

Anyway, overview time!

ANIME

Not feeling too good about anime. Maybe I'm not looking into seasonals enough, but I also dislike waiting for new episodes, because the immersion method really requires you to binge media to get better at comprehending the language faster.

HUNTERXHUNTER S2

I'm sorry, but that season was boring. The issues weren't even issues to begin with. I know that there are particularly outstanding arcs in HXH, but I'm not about to skip seasons because every minute counts as immersion.

GREAT PRETENDER

Club pick. I only ended up watching a few episodes. Wasn't really into it. I thought I'd like it because people were really into the animation and art style, but it's kind of meh.

DRAMAS

JDramas saved my entire immersion this month! I know a lot of people feel that the quality falls flat compared to what Korea has been producing, but there really are some gems here that I feel like people keep missing out on because they won't give it a chance.

恋はつづくよどこまでも

Unsubbed rewatch. Okay, I was dumb and included this last month, but I actually watched it very early in June. Anyway, this was 70% romance/drama, 30% medical drama so anything that I missed were mostly related to medical stuff that I wouldn't understand well in English either, so it didn't feel too bad of a watch.

ミス・シャーロック

Excuse me, there's a female Sherlock Holmes? Yes, please! I looove Sherlock Holmes, it's one of my favorite books and characters of all time, and the fact that Japan made a genderbent remake is giving me life. Love that they took inspiration from BBC Sherlock, too, which is one of my most favorite tv adaptations.

The portrayal of fem!Sherlock was very interesting and made perfect sense, really classy and very snooty and almost condencending, but now with realistic female perspective emotions. Ah, so good!

Watson or Wato, however, felt a little flat unfortunately. It did take a good look into the effects of PTSD, and mental health is always good for people to discuss, but it almost seemed that was all that Watson is, which s/he is not. The original Watson is brave and clever in a more human aspect, and would put a lot on the line to help Sherlock, regardless of his physical or mental state. It just didn't translate well, which is unfortunate. I guess the TV Drama Elementary version of Watson was what I was looking for, but it didn't end up that way.

5時から9時まで

Unsubbed rewatch. Kind of a filler drama, and just wanted to watch it to count as active immersion. The three guys in this show are cringe tbh: protag is a guy who can't take no for an answer, friend is a "nice guy" who thinks he's entitled to her because they've been friends for a while, and boss guy thinks it's fine to withhold the truth of him once being married. Female protagonist's personality started okay, but kinda broke down towards the end, and I'm not sure if the ending was to make up for that.

私たちはどうかしている

Uh, hello? New favorite drama! ヽ(^v^)ノ

Between the spicy family drama, beautiful garments and traditional 和菓子屋 in a modern setting, and the electric chemistry between the two main characters, which I'm not gonna lie was kinda toxic too, but for some reason I could not put this down and watched it in two days.

It's a combination of genres I love: "historical" fiction, romance, drama, mystery, and suspense. I'm not even going to discuss it anymore. Just go watch this show!

リコカツ

Interesting concept: two people meet, had a whirlwind wedding with many guests, and almost immediately after decide to divorce, but is too embarrased to admit it to everyone who wished their marriage the best, so they try to work things out while dancing around their feelings even though they are still married. Pretty cute, kind of frustrating at times, but you can't help but root for them anyway.

MOVIES

Why are these movies an 8 on MDL? lmao

君と100回目の恋

Interesting concept that got flushed down the drain in the first 20 minutes. Nobody even explained why the recording can do what it does, and the male protagonist also just gave up on his research just like that. It's implied that he redid things a hundred times, but bro, did you even try as hard as you think you did?

カノジョは嘘を愛しすぎてる

Another one of those standard template romance movies but now with a band as a costume. It's fine, not the greatest.

NOVELS

君の膵臓をたべたい

Finally finished! See stats and 感想 here!

本好きの下剋上司書になるためには手段を選んでいられません

Was able to wrap up 第一部兵士の娘I along with the audiobook! Stats and 感想 here!

Also started 第一部兵士の娘II, but got both distracted and indecisive with my reading material. Also this thing is close to 200k 文字 what the heck. That's a chunky light novel, and if it's going to be like the first one, it's going to talk a lot about the process of making stuff - both interesting and tedious to read about.

三日間の幸福

This is turning out to be another "I Want to Eat Your Pancreas" moment where I just inch forward everytime but never finish, but I'll get there. I'm starting to form an opinion about this protagonist and it's turning out pretty sour, so it's kinda hard to read with that in the back of my mind.

コンビニ人間

Started towards the end of the month, so I haven't actually made a dent in it, but I heard that people in the immersion community usually pick this up as one of their first reads. It's actually really short (60k 文字), so if it's as good as people say, I hope I can sit down and finish it in a few days. Wishful thinking maybe.

VISUAL NOVELS

ファタモルガーナの館

Look man, I'm halfway through this, and between that and the fact that this is an unvoiced 敬語 filled VN which is interesting to read in, makes this really hard to drop even though every door so far has been the standard historical fiction tragedy. And yes, even the "big secret" about the white haired girl is nothing surprising given how heavily hinted it was. Even Morgana's story is what you would expect to happen given the setting and timeline.

Anyway, I'm gonna trudge on because again, it's not like I'm not gaining any language skill from reading this. It's just painfully predictable, which makes it really disappointing coming from a huge historical fiction fan.

白昼夢の青写真

Just trying this out because I'm tired of being held back by unintresting reads, and although the first case feels like it's gonna turn out cringey, I'm keeping my hopes up for the rest. Also, the art for this is really cute?

-☆-

That's it for June!

I also technically read a few chapters of 名探偵コナン, but didn't include it in my overview, because I felt kind of detached from reading it. Like, was I really about to reread something I read (English fan translated) 900+ chapters of for most of my life, well, because I now can read it in Japanese? So I put it on hold only because I don't know if I should reread all of it, because you know, Japanese gains, or just pick up where I left off even though this manga is my childhood favorite and my heart was already crying just rereading the very first case.

Honestly, I didn't know what I was expecting from June. I thought I would have been able to read more, but I just played catchup with some stuff and drowned in the JDrama pit. No regrets though, I ended up loving a lot of my picks this month.

Still hoping to balance out my reading and listening though, as I really feel quite behind with my reading skill. It's just so hard to find something I like so I keep dawdling about. Eh, I'll figure it out.

Thanks for reading! Updates in the future as always.

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atinydise · 3 years

Text

Ateez leaving their s/o for their exes

❦ Genre: Angst (yes it’s the mood these days! 😈)

❦ Pairing: OT8.

❦ Word count: 4k4.

❦ Background music: BlackPink - Lovesick Girls (Kdrama OST Version)

HONGJOONG

Once again, Hongjoong's voicemail asked you to leave a message. This week, he has been really busy. You couldn't see him at all. You tried to come to the studio, but he wasn't there, so you just gave up and waited for him to come. He didn't. For almost 2 weeks, you didn't receive a call or a text. The only way to see that everything was good for him, was his post on Ateez' social media. You were curious to know if he missed you, even a bit.

While you were scrolling on your Instagram Feed as a boring Friday night, you heard your entrance door opening. Your heart made a jump in your chest, he was finally free enough to come. "Hongjoong?" You asked, not moving a bit from the couch. In a short time, he appeared at the door frame. And honestly, you hated the look he had on his face. It was a mix of sadness and coldness. Something you never saw before. "Oh wow, are you okay? Because you look terrible." "Just tired." He replied, sitting on the seat, next to you but not really close as usual. "Do you want to go to sleep now? The bed is ready in any case-" "Y/N, I came here to break up with you."

A long and awkward silence settled in the room. Your brain wasn't processing the actual situation. It was so sudden. "Wait." You stopped him to say something else. "You can't come here after 2 whole weeks without talking to me, and just say 'let's break up'." "Y/N this is really not easy to do... can you please be more considering?" he sighed, running his hands through his blue hair. "Considerate? You don't even give me a reason. So, no, I won't be more considering." You said angrily. "It's just that I saw Jin at the bakery 1 month ago." He started. "We talked for 30 minutes or something and just with this short chat... I miss her. Like I can't stop thinking about her." You scoffed, not believing that he could do this to you. You stood up from the couch and went to the hallway to open the entrance door. "Where are you going?" He asked. "I'm staying there, but you... Get out." "Y/N, I don't want to-" "Hongjoong, get out. I can't even see you anymore." You stomped, pointing at the hallway. "You ghosted me for 2 weeks, not even asking me if I was okay or even alive. You should have told me that you were doubting about our relationship. But you decided to be selfish and to-" your voice crackhead. You knew sobs would come in a matter of time. "To ignore my feelings." Hongjoong was staring at you. He felt really ashamed of himself. "So, leave now. Please." You were practically begging him to go out of your apartment and obviously of your life. Hongjoong nodded and grabbed his jacket back. He stopped one last time in front of you. "I'm so sorry Y/N." He tried to grab your arm, but you stepped back, disgusted. You just pointed at the corridor once again and waited for him to leave. When he stepped out and that you closed the door, you couldn't hold your tears anymore. They stormed one by one on your face. You fell on your knees, your hand still holding the knob. For a second you freaked out because you couldn’t feel air going in your lung because of the emotion surrounding you. But it was not the worse pain today. You couldn't believe he chose her.

SEONGHWA

You were cooking for your boyfriend. He had a stressful week and you wanted him to relax a bit. Even with his ethic schedule, Seonghwa managed to spend some time with you. The only thing strange thing is that he was physically there but mentally, he was totally absent. It's like he wasn't listening to you anymore or that you needed to repeat every time the same question. "He might really be stressed," you concluded. So, as a good and kind girlfriend, you prepared him a good dish made with love.

The moment you heard the bell rings, you rushed to the door. "Hello beautiful soul," you greeted him. "Hi Y/N," he smiled at you. His smile was a bit sad, but you didn't mind, he was tired for sure. "I cooked a really good meal for you!" You said, entering back in the kitchen. He was following you, his big coat still covering his body. "Are you cold here?" You giggled, "I can turn on the heater if you-" "Y/N, can we talk a bit?" He asked, pointing at the table in the middle of the kitchen. "Sure." You sat down on the chair in front of him, glancing at your lasagna in the oven at the same time. "What's happening?" "You know how I hate lying to you or even hide something." He held your hand on the table. You just nodded, waiting for him to continue his speech. But you secretly enjoyed the warmness of his hands. "So, I will be frank." "You are making me anxious." You said, raising a brow. "I met my ex-girlfriend at the mall last week." He started. "I was about to ditch her, but a part of me wanted to talk to her." You puffed at his face, "you have really bad acting skills babe. I can't believe you." "I'm totally serious Y/N. I still have feelings for her." He finally said. "I'm not believing you." "I was distant a bit these days and I think you noticed it. I was constantly thinking about her." More and more Seonghwa was confessing his love for someone else, more he felt your hands removing the grip on his. "I don't think I stopped loving her honestly. I'm really sorry." You were speechless. You never thought that your night would end so badly. "Y/N, I really tried to convince myself that you were the one and only. But I just can't. I can't lie to myself. And I don't want to hurt you with a one-sided love. You deserve way more than that." He explained, trying to find the right way to make you understand the situation without hurting you. "I wish I didn't see her again, so we wouldn't be in this situ-" "I think I need some time alone," you said before going to the bedroom. Seonghwa was really tormented, he hated seeing you this way, but none of you will stay happy in this relationship, knowing that his heart was somewhere else.

YUNHO

"Oh, I didn't know you like black mushrooms! Hyena loved it too!" Giggled Yunho. You put down the pack of mushrooms you had in your hand. "Finally… I think I don't need it this week." "Hyena was indecisive too," he tickled your chin playfully. You smiled at him but inside of you, your whole soul was boiling. It's been almost a week that Yunho was non-stop talking, praising or even comparing you to his ex-girlfriend, Hyena. They dated for almost 2 years before you. Okay, it was one of his most important relationships, but why does he need to talk about her all the time? Everything started when they met at the supermarket. You saw the scene with your own eyes. You spotted the little sparkles in your boyfriend’s eyes when he was talking to her. You never thought she would be a danger since they broke up on bad terms. Seems like that you were wrong. She was a good threat for your couple. "What else do you need?" He asked, looking at the list. "I think I'm done for today to be honest." You replied, annoyed. "Really? Hyena is so stressed when she goes to the supermarket. She's like thinking she won't find anything anymore." He added. You turned around, to face him. "Can you stop talking about her?" Yunho blinked at you, looking like a puppy. "What do you mean?" "Hyena. You are nonstop talking about her! Hyena this, Hyena that!" "Ah really? I'm sorry, I didn't notice..." he apologized, biting his lip. "You kidding right? From the morning to the night, you have only her name in your mouth." "I'll stop talking about her, sorry." You were about to go back to your course list, but something was wrong. You faced your boyfriend again. "Why are you thinking about her so much? Do you miss being with her?" You asked, praying for him to say no. "I-I, no, of course no." He stuttered. "It's just because we saw her last week." "A part of me wants to believe the lie you just said." He bit his lip once again. He was definitely anxious. "Do you miss her? Yes or no?" You resumed, simply asking him to choose an answer. "This is complicated," he started. "I don't know." You scoffed, annoyed by this answer. You were usually comprehensive, but today it wasn't the case. You wanted to know if you were the only idiot since the beginning of this relationship. "This is not complicated Yunho. I think that you are in love with her." "I wouldn't say that, this is too strong." "Then tell me that you won't talk to her anymore and that I'm the only one you love." The long silence who settled between both of you was the best and shorter answer you could have. "I knew it." You whispered. "Y/N, it's just that we spent so many good memories together. I can't forget her like that." "I heard enough." You said, almost throwing back all of your vegetables in his arms. "Y/N wait, don't go." "I don't want to see you anymore. You obviously used me to forget your ex, but you failed." You said, before turning back again, but for the last time.

YEOSANG

You were in the subway, waiting for the train to stop at the right station. You needed to look at the board more than usual because your mind was somewhere else. You couldn't stop thinking of your boyfriend and his ex. He was meeting his ex-girlfriend every day for a whole week now. They needed to work together. They were the daily MC of a new idol program. At first, it didn't bother you. Yeosang was professional and they weren't even talking backstage. Until she starts to engage the conversation with him. When you went there to just say hi, you noticed a strong alchemy between these two. Useless to say that you didn't like it at all. Today, you went there with him again. You wanted to see their whole interactions. You were the first one to be there. Only a few staff were present to prepare the set. The first thing your boyfriend asked was "is Kira there?" He didn't even greet the staff. "No, she will be a little bit late today." "You want to see her so bad huh?" you asked. "Oh, come on don't start." He rolled his eyes. "Don't start what?" You asked, even if you knew exactly what he meant. "Your jealousy and stuff like that. We don't have enough time to argue right now." He said, before going to the hair stylist. "Well, that was cold." You muttered to yourself. You sat on the couch on the corner of the room. You were patiently waiting for Kira to arrive. You were about to fall asleep when, she entered, her hands full of chicken packs. "Yeosaaang! I got a surprise for you!" She yelled. "Oh, you scared me idiot!" He giggled at her. "Hello," you greeted her. "Oh hi, you are?" She smiled at you. "Yeosang's g-" "Friend! She's my friend." He cut you straight. You looked at him, completely horrified. Why was he lying on something so important? "Oh, nice to meet you," she handed her hand to you. You didn't care about her, you wanted to know why he acted this way. "Why did you tell her that I was your friend?" you asked Yeosang. "Y/N, it's not the moment." "I don't care if it's not the moment!" you replied back. "I'm your girlfriend. If you are ashamed of me then whatever I did, I'm sorry!" "Your girlfriend? I thought you were single Yeo." Added Kira. Your heart clenched, he literally told that he was single. "You told her that you were single?" Your voice cracked. "You are the worst person I know." "I wanted to tell you I swear. I would never do something like this." "Please give me a favor and erase me from your life. Because I'll do it." You said harshly before leaving, bumping into Kira which caused the packs of chicken to fall. You were sorry for not being polite enough, but the heartache you got right now was completely insane.

SAN

Your relationship with San was completely disastrous these days. He was barely talking to you and was completely out of mind. When you asked him what was going on, he was denying everything. Just saying that he was tired or even exhausted. You even asked his closest friend Wooyoung, but he couldn't help you. After a few days, you just gave up. You tried to cheer him as many times as you could, but it went worse day by day. When he was talking to you, he always had this sad smile on his face. You couldn't see this warm and kind presence in him anymore.

Tonight, you stayed at the dorm for the night. You had a movie night with the boys, and everything seemed pretty fine. San was laughing and talking like usual. He was just still a little bit distant with you, but it wasn't a matter anymore. At the end of the movie, everyone went to sleep. Only you and San were remaining in the living-room. "Should we go to sleep?" you yawned. "You can go if you want. I'll stay here for a bit." "You are not tired?" "Not really." "Then I will stay awake a bit too," you smiled at him. Touched by your actions, he smiled back at you. But you notice this sad look on his eyes again. "San," you called him quietly, "come and sit here." You patted the seat next to you. He nodded and executed. You didn't try to touch him in any kind of way, he seemed really tense. "What about you tell me what is going on babe?" You nicely asked. "What do you mean? Everything is fine." "I know you well, so I can spot when you're lying or not." You declared to dissuade him. Your boyfriend didn't reply. He simply stared at his feet. "Tell me." You insisted softly. "I won't judge you." "I think you will," he added. "I won't. Come on... I don't like seeing you like this." He hesitated again. But, seeing your face so worried about him made his heart clench. "Okay... It took at least a few weeks for me to consider the situation and try to find a solution." He glanced at you, looking if your attention was still on him. "I saw my ex-girlfriend 1 month ago." He gulped. "I know it's not a good thing at all. It was a coincidence. She was behind me at the queue." "And what's the matter?" You asked. San struggled to find his words. He knew that it would be hard no matter what he says. The whole situation was a torture for him. He kept this secret for so long that he was overwhelmed by it. "Babe, why are you crying?" you asked, terribly worried now. You tried to comfort him with a hug, but he moved back. "San, I just wanted to-" "I'm in love with her Y/N." He said, looking right at your eyes. He hated himself for doing this to you. The look on your face made his heart break in a dozen of pieces. "W-What do you mean by you love her?" You stuttered. "I can't stop thinking about her. I want to be with her again. No matter how hard I'm convinced you are my soulmate." He sobbed, wiping his tears. "San..." "I'm really sorry. I want to erase her from my mind, but I can't." He held your hands, keeping them on his cheek. "I don't want to lose you." "I need to go." You claimed, grabbing your shoes as fast as possible to leave the dorm. San tried to hold you back, but a part of him just convinced him to let you go. He wasn't sure about his final feelings for his ex-girlfriend. But he couldn't stay cold and distant with you.

MINGI

Yesterday, you talked about going to the amusement park together and he was so excited about this that you couldn't help but to buy 2 tickets the same night. Lucky for you, he had a whole day off. That's why you were surprised when he declined your offer. You didn't tell him that you bought tickets, it was supposed to be a surprise. And you were sure that today, your boyfriend and you, will have a really good day.

It didn't last long since you got to the dorm. You exited the taxi as fast as possible, your tickets right in your hand. You were holding them like if they would disappear. "Yes sure, I'll be glad to go there with you." You heard your boyfriend's voice in the hallway. You didn't focus too much on what he just said because you were glancing too much at the girl figure in front of him. He was smiling so much that it could hurt his jaw. "Mingi?" You called him with a quiet and shy voice. He stopped looking at this girl and focused on you. The smile on his face faded a little bit. But too much for your liking. "What are you doing here Y/N?" He asked, walking towards you. You shyly showed him the tickets for the amusement park that you were tightly holding since you hopped off the taxi. "You were so happy yesterday when he talked about that so I thought it would be a good idea to go today." You smiled at him. "Let's talk a second, please." He grabbed you by the shoulders to bring you in the staircase. "What's going on? And who's she?" "I can't come with you today. I'm sorry but Hyejin needs me for something." You raised a brow, "Hyejin? Like Hyejin, your ex-girlfriend?" He simply nodded, not daring to say 'yes' out loud. "You are seeing each other again? I mean it looks like you planned your day." "We saw each other last week and it was already planned." He said, biting his lip because he knows you will be upset. "Ah. So, you see each other a lot?" you asked. "These times yes, but strictly as a friend." "As a friend? Are you sure?" He was avoiding your stare. Since their first meeting after their break-up, he couldn't stop thinking about her. "Should I take this long silence for a no?" "I'm not sure." He finally replied. "Not sure?" you looked right at his eyes. "How is it possible to not be sure?" "I love you. But I love her too." His words felt like a ton of hammers hitting you right in your chest. Never you thought that these little words would be so painful. "How do you know you love her?" "I-I don't know, I just want to see-" "No wait. How do you know you loved me?" "Y/N, I love you. You should know that of course." "Then you should have been loving me and only me." You claimed, your mouth shaking a bit. "It's complicated..." he sighed. "It's not Mingi! You broke up with her because she cheated on you. Do you hear me? She cheated on you!" You talked enough louder for her to hear you. "I know that." "Are you really considering going back with someone who broke your heart?" You asked, completely disgusted. "She changed, she told-" "I can't." You cut him straight, bumping into him so you could exit this creepy staircase and stop seeing his face. Just before opening the entrance door, you saw her. With this arrogant smile on her face. You wanted to insult her, to punch her on this cold floor and yell that Mingi didn't deserve someone like her. But you just walked out and jumped in the first taxi. You were so disoriented that you couldn't even breathe anymore. The taxi driver didn’t have enough time to ask you where you were going, that you busted in tears on the back seat.

WOOYOUNG

“Hi guys”, you greeted the boys. “Hello Y/N,” said San, waving at you. “If you are looking for your boy, he’s choking at the cafeteria.” “What is he doing here? I thought he wanted to keep his diet.” “We don’t know but he seems pretty confused these days.” Added Yunho. “Alright... I go check on him.” You said, leaving the backstage room. As fast as you could remember, you went straight to the cafeteria. Exactly as the guys said, Wooyoung was there. He was bent over the balcony, his gaze lost on the city under him. His back was facing you, but you could feel a strange aura coming out from him. You opened the door slowly and joined him. “I think you are going to hurt yourself if you jump this high.” Wooyoung giggled lightly. “Even if my body is going to crush away, that wouldn’t be the painful thing right now.” “That’s not ready a mindset you should have before going up on stage.” You stated. “What’s going on?” Your boyfriend sighed once again. He was still looking right at the crown under the balcony. “Do you think you are going to forgive me?” “For what?” “For falling in love with someone else.” You looked straight at him. You could easily say when your boyfriend is joking but now, you saw that it wasn’t the case at all. “Are you...?” “Serious? Yeah. Sadly I am.” He ran his hands through his black hair. “I’ve met Soojin backstage and my dumb heart fell for her again.” Even if you were disappointed and sad about this unexpected confession, you couldn’t be mad at him. “It’s okay. We can’t control our feelings.” You tried to comfort him. “You are not mad at me?” You shook your head, “it’s better that you told me before doing stupid or regret it for the rest of your life. Right?” “You are so... perfect! Why I am so stupid!” He punched his forehead. You held his hand before he could hurt himself. “Don’t. Feel. Mad.” “If only I could turn off a button to erase these feelings about her!” “Maybe it’s just because you saw her...” Before Wooyoung could explain, Seonghwa interrupted both of you. “Lovebirds stop flirting! Wooyoung we need to go.” You were not lovebirds anymore. “I’m coming!” He yelled back. “Let’s go.” “I think it’s better if I don’t come with you.” “Y/N...” “Don’t worry about me! I’m a strong and grown girl!” You flexed your arm. “I really need to go but I don’t think I’m done with you.” He patted your back. You nodded enthusiastically just to make him leave. No way, he could be here to see the “strong and grown girl” busting in tears.

JONGHO

You had a day off today and decided to spend it by your own since Jongho was too busy to hang out with you. Despite the disappointment, you didn’t give up and motivated yourself to enjoy a solo shopping day. You bought everything you found cute. Your only thought was to wear it for your boyfriend. All the compliments he told about your look since the first day you met, gave you a big head.

When you claimed that you were done for today (or better to say when you receive a message from your bank account asking you if your credit card was stolen), you went back home. On the way, you heard your boyfriend’s laugh not far away from you. Even if you thought that it was impossible, you followed your instincts and turned around. You were absolutely right; he was there at the terrasse of this cafe. Laughing with this girl who was smiling widely at him. Instinctively, you hid behind the nearest bus stop. A bunch of people were looking at you weirdly, but your attention was right on the scene in front of you. This girl’s face was familiar to you. “Is she a staff member?” You whispered. Instinctively, you took your phone off your bag and texted Jongho. [“Where are you?”] [“Practice room. Busy.”] “Sure...” you grunted. He was lying to you and seemed to be perfectly fine with it. Before sending him another text, you kept listening to their conversation. You didn’t know what to expect from Jongho. He seemed so different. So fake. Exactly how the boys described him when this girl is around. [“Hope you are having fun because Sienna looks like she is.”] Sienna. His ex. You saw an old photo of both of them on Jongho social media before you started to date. When the boy read your message, you saw his facial expression being confused. [“Where are you? I can explain.”] You didn’t want to confront him by message. You got out of your hiding place and walked just in front of the table. “Hello lovebirds.” You greeted them sarcastically. “Y/N...” “Who is she?” “I’m Y/N. His current girlfriend.” You replied before he could. “But I don’t think I will stay it for long because I heard your conversation. Seems like he really wants to go back with you. Congratulations.” You clapped arrogantly. Jongho stood up, gripping your wrist, “Y/N stop. We will talk about that.” “I don’t want to talk about it with you. Wait.” You paused, pointing at him. “I don’t want to talk with you anymore.” “Y/N.” “If I didn’t cross the street randomly, I would never hear you saying that you missed to be with her and that you never stopped to love her.” “I can explain.” He repeated. Angrily, you grabbed the lemonade glass on the table and poured it on Jongho. “Too late for your miserable explanations Choi Jongho.” You throw the glass on the floor right between both of you and left them there. People would probably think that you did it to be dramatic, but no it was only to show Jongho how you felt. Broken inside.

#ateez scenarios #ateez reactions #ateez scenario #ateez reaction #ateez angst #ateez x you #ateez x atiny #ateez x reader #ateez #ateez kpop #ateez sad #ateez reader insert #ateez imagine #ateez imagines #ateez writings #ateez writing

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capsironunderoos · 3 years

Text

December

DINCEMBER - December 2 - December (Ariana Grande Version)

Din Djarin (The Mandalorian) X Female!Reader

Summary: A little thievery, a little marketplace, a little mysterious allusions to past lives, and a little green baby.

Word Count: 2.3k

Warnings: None that I can think of! (Possibly my writing because this one is... something else)

Author’s Note: Ah okay so I know this is a day or so late, but I still wanted to keep up with @dindjarindiaries Dincember! This prompt was December by Ariana Grande and I can’t lie I’d never heard the song before! It’s really good though (and I definitely added it to my “baking Christmas cookies with matthew gray gubler” playlist). I was inspired by the lines “I’m just tryna keep my baby warm through the wintertime” and “whatever is on your list I’ll do it,” but probably not in the way you’d expect... Anyways! I hope you guys enjoy this one, I have a love hate relationship with how it turned out... Also, I do make some allusions to the readers past, but you can fill those in however you like! Was she an Imperial spy? A Rebel spy? Maybe she flew alongside Luke Skywalker, or learned how to beat Lando at sabacc! Who knows! That’s completely up to you. Anywho, this was a really long author’s note sheesh... Enjoy!

Here’s the previous prompt:

DINCEMBER - November 30 - Snow

And the link to my masterlist: capsironunderoos masterlist

It’s almost cold today, you find yourself thinking as a slight breeze picks up the fabric sitting on your sale table.

You’re carefully folding your newest line of fabrics onto the table before you, making sure they’re arranged in a way that will draw people in, and will get you enough credits to at least try out the new caf they’re selling at the cantina.

You smile at the thought and smooth out a wrinkle in the bright red fabric before turning to look around you.

The marketplace seems almost empty. Normally you have to elbow a few Jawa to get through the crowd and set up your table, but today was unnaturally easy.

It’s almost unsettling how quiet the town is, normally on market days patrons all the way from Mos Eisley find their way to the multi-colored booths. Your booth tends to be pretty popular, as it’s rare to find a seamstress on a dust ball like Tatooine.

It doesn’t hurt that you’re easy on the eyes either, and that you know how to work an unsuspecting husband into buying something new for his wife, or a new mother into buying a cloth sling to carry her crying baby in.

It also doesn’t hurt that there don’t seem to be enough rumors about you.

Some point and whisper as they walk by, saying you once sewed the robes worn by Jedi and Sith alike. Others stare in the cantina as they place bets on which royal you sewed for and if you ever got to live on a core planet.

Of course none of them are true, and most of them were started by you to thrum up good business.

What can you say? The caf at the cantina is really good.

It’s been a few minutes now, well past the opening hour of the market, and the number of booths is still few and far between.

You hum in disappointment, accepting that you won’t be making many, if any sales today. You begin to sit down on the stool you bring along for days like this when you see a scrap of your best-selling silver cloth suspiciously fly off of the table.

It takes a second, but you note that there’s no wind blowing, so there’s no way it was carried off by a sudden strong breeze.

You grab the small stun gun you keep tucked away in your belt, slowly moving around the table, already knowing you’re about to have another run in with a Jawa.

Your footsteps are measured, and if anyone were to pay enough attention, they’d notice that a seamstress wouldn’t know how to move the way you are.

As you creep around the table, you notice that another scrap of fabric, this time green, is swept away as if by an invisible being.

Your steps pick up then, and you round the table just in time to see a small creature waddling away from your booth, fabric dragging the ground as it struggles to carry a stolen bounty almost as large as the creature is.

“Hey! Not so fast, little one!” You call out, and the creature turns to look at you.

He squeaks in alarm and begins… running?

You think it’s possibly running, or trying to at least.

You note how large its clothes are, and how they seem to be tripping it up as it tries to escape.

If it hadn’t been stealing from you, you’d almost have felt bad for it.

Three more lunging steps later and you’ve managed to put your stun gun away and scoop the small being into your arms. It wails in disapproval and struggles against you in a feeble attempt to get away, but your grip is tight enough to keep it tucked into the crook of your arm.

“Now where do you think you’re going with that?” You ask as you grab the fabric from its hands.

As cute as you suddenly realize it is, it’s hard to miss how stubbornly it holds onto the fabric.

You begin to walk back to your booth, scanning the area for anyone who might be searching for it.

It’s calmed down now, and you turn to see it’s big brown eyes staring up at you.

“Oh don’t give me that look. Doesn’t matter how cute you are, you still gotta pay like everyone else.”

The little one coos in response, as if understanding and responding to your statement.

“Uh huh,” you nonchalantly agree to its babbling as you do your best to fold the fabrics back into their places with one hand, your left arm currently supporting the child in it.

“Is there someone you’re supposed to be with right now? A leash you broke off or, um, maybe a cage you got out of? Or are you somebody’s kid?” You question, and it looks up at you, blinking quietly and deciding that now it’ll be quiet.

“Well, I doubt you’re anybody’s kid, ‘cause I’ve never seen anything like you around here. But I also doubt that you’re anybody’s pet, ‘cause I know good and well no one would be able to keep you on a leash, especially not in a cage. You’re too cute for all that. Besides, I think you might be able to escape too easily anyways.”

The child laughs at that, and you find yourself smiling in response.

“Hey I’m still trying to figure out how you managed to pull that fabric off of my table. You’re not exactly the same height.” You wonder aloud, and the child moves to sit up as best it can in your arms.

You apologize to it before sitting it on the table and pulling your stool up.

It doesn’t really matter if it tries to run off, you already know you could catch the poor thing in two steps.

The creature watches you intently, tilting its head as if inspecting you, or searching you for something.

You furrow your eyebrows at its actions, leaning up to get a little bit closer to it.

You notice movement out of the corner of your eye and sit back again, watching as the little one begins to raise one of his hands.

You can feel your heart rate pick up as your mind races to put together what the child is trying to show you, but before the connection can be made a set of quick and heavy footsteps are striding up to your table.

“There you are,” you hear through the crackle of a modulator, which cues you to turn and see a Mandalorian taking long strides to your booth.

Dread instantly fills your chest, and you quickly stand up, glancing down at your stun gun sticking out of your boot and back to the Mandalorian.

Was he talking to you or the kid? Regardless of whichever one he was talking to, you have a feeling you’re both about to be in some trouble.

Last you knew you didn’t have an active bounty on your head, but that had been too many rotations ago to remember. Surely the small child beside you wouldn’t have an active bounty, it hardly knew how to speak, much less commit a serious crime against the New Republic, or the remaining Imps for that matter.

Your wandering thoughts are quickly answered as the Mandalorian scoops the little green being in its arms.

“I told you to stay put kid,” his tone is meant to come off as scolding, but you can hear the worry in his voice.

The child is grinning from ear to ear, obviously happy to see the man before you.

“You know,” you start, and the Mandalorian turns to you as if noticing you for the first time.

“I can sew you something to wear that he can ride in. Can match the color to that fancy beskar and everything.”

At the mention of his armor, you notice the Mandalorian stand a bit straighter.

“No, thank you. I hope that he wasn’t too much of a bother.”

The child laughs at the mention of himself, and you find yourself fighting a grin.

“Well, other than trying to make off with two of my best-selling fabrics,” you shrug and the Mandalorian returns his gaze to the kid, who has gone suspiciously silent.

“Did you give them back?” He chastises the child again, but before it has a chance to answer you step in.

“I got them back. He tried to make a run for it, but he’s not very fast.”

A beat of silence passes between the three of you before you continue.

“I could fix that too. Those clothes are obviously too big for him.”

The Mandalorian sighs, but it comes out as a crackle. How had you managed to finally meet the first customer you’d ever had that was able to resist your persuading?

“I said no thank you earlier, and the same applies now.”

You raise your hands in defense, feigning innocence.

“Alright Mando, alright,” you taunt him and he shifts his weight from one foot to the other.

“I’m just trying to keep that baby warm through the winter time.”

At the reference to him, the kid squirms in the Mandalorians arms, turning to look at you with big eyes, full of want.

“Whatever’s on your list, I’ll do it. I’m the best around. Actually, I’m the only around.”

You decide to try one last time, and even if he doesn’t respond or buy, at least you’ll know what to work on when the next Mandalorian shows up at your table.

He’s quiet for too long, and you turn your attention back to the kid.

“I see why you wanted that silver, little one. It’d match ole tin can man perfectly.”

You taunt him again, and the Mandalorian continues to stand still.

After another beat of silence, you hear the scramble of feet behind him, and you move to glance over his shoulder.

“Peli!” You exclaim, and she smiles as she sees you, but you notice her smile growing even bigger when she sees the kid peeking through the Mandalorians arms to see her.

“Hey kiddo! And… kiddo,” she jokes as she moves to stand beside Mando.

The kid makes grabby-arms towards her and she laughs, accepting him into her arms.

“This that Mando you were telling me about over caf the other week?” You question and she nods.

“As he lives and breathes. At least, I think he’s living and breathing.”

You nod in agreement.

“Come on Mando,” she prompts, gesturing for him to follow her.

“Your ship has some… problems, to say the least, and I need an opinion that isn't a pit droids.”

You wave to the child as Peli retreats back in the direction she came before turning to face the Mandalorian once more.

“Offer still stands,” you start, and his helmet moves ever so slightly to look at you.

“Response is still the same,” he combats, and you laugh.

---

Three days later and Din is ready to get off of this sand pit.

He normally doesn’t mind coming and visiting Peli, having the Crest regularly serviced while taking a few days to visit old friends or to simply sit with the feisty mechanic and his kid.

But he’s got stuff to do now, and Life Day is just around the corner.

He didn’t remember too much of his childhood, but he remembered celebrating Life Day with his parents when they were still alive. Therefore, he wants to give the kid a good Life Day this year, as Din was almost certain he’d never experienced one before.

This meant gathering gifts specifically for the little creature, and that meant trekking across the galaxy before settling onto Nevarro to celebrate Life Day with Cara and Greef.

He watches from afar as the pit droids finish up their final touches, making sure the Crest has a full tank before he’s cleared to go.

“Hey Mando!”

He hears from behind him, and he turns to see Peli marching towards him.

“Looks like you made an impression a few days ago. I’ve never known her to do anything for free, much less as a gift.”

Din immediately knows that Peli is talking about you, and he wishes that he didn’t.

You’ve been all he can think about, and he hates himself for literally just standing there as you tried to talk to him.

Peli pulls him from his thoughts as she extends her hands to him, offering a gift wrapped in dark brown paper.

Din takes it from her and mutters a thank you.

“You’re welcome,” Peli replies dramatically before stomping off to find the kid.

Din can read the basic scrawled on top that reads “For the tin can man and his green kid,” and he feels himself smiling at the scrawl of your handwriting.

He quickly opens the box, not surprised to see a small dark brown robe, almost the color of the fabric he wears, sitting atop a silver pile of fabric.

He pulls the robe out first, noticing how well it has been sewn together, already knowing that the child’s going to never want to wear anything else now.

He then pulls out the silver fabric, noticing that it looks to be something for him.

“Oh yeah new moms put their kids in that at the market! You just strap ‘em right to your chest and they never cry again,” Peli calls from her spot beside the ship where she’s been holding the kid and watching Din.

Din finds his smile growing even more, and he’s almost surprised to see another note in the box, written on what looks like handmade paper.

The basic is even more scrawled in this note, as if you’d decided to put it in at the last minute.

Din pulls it from the box and can't help but to smile from ear to ear as he reads it.

Just trying to keep that baby warm through the wintertime. Anything else on your list I can do, but you’re gonna have to actually pay this time. Happy Life Day.

Here’s the next prompt for Dincember:

DINCEMBER - December 4 - Hot Chocolate

#underooswrites #din djarin #din djarin x reader #the child #grogu #baby yoda #peli motto #peli #ah yes Star Wars coffee #star wars #star wars x reader #the mandalorian #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian x y/n #din djarin x y/n #dincember

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wiypt-writes · 3 years

Text

Stark Spangled Banner

Ch31: We Fight

Summary: As Bucky comes round he reveals some shocking news to Steve, Katie and Sam which leaves the Captain with no alternative but to take the fight to Siberia in an attempt to prevent the mysterious Doctor from unleashing more Winter Soldiers. But that isn’t the only bombshell he drops and Katie is left grappling internally as she comes to terms with the news.

The 4 rogue operatives enlist the help of some familiar faces, but encounter their old friends who are charged with their own mission- to apprehend Steve’s team. The Avengers are pitted into a Civil War, and the gulf between Steve and Tony grows even wider.

Warnings: Bad language, Smut! (NSFW, Under 18s) Bad Language words.

Pairing: Steve Rogers x OFC Katie Stark

A/N: Wonderful edits again 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 30

Stark Spangled Banner Masterlist // Main Masterlist

“It’s strange,” Katie looked over to where Steve was stood next to her, his arms folded. “It’s like he just flipped a switch turning him right back into the Winter Soldier.”

“HYDRA perfected mind control.” Steve sighed as he looked at Bucky who was restrained, his metal arm locked in a vice in the middle of the warehouse.

“Question is, who the hell is he gonna be when he wakes up?” Sam asked, hands in his pockets.

At that point Bucky groaned and all three of them turned their heads to look at him.

“Looks like we’re about to find out” Katie muttered, as the two men instantly closed ranks on either side of her, automatically adopting more defensive stances.

"Steve?” Bucky questioned in a hoarse voice, wincing a little as he tried to straighten up from the stiff sitting position he’d been slumped in. Everything hurt.

“Which Bucky am I talking to?” Steve asked suspiciously and Bucky glanced at him, blinking slowly.

“Your mom’s name is Sarah.” He said slowly. Then he realised that anyone could know that so he searched for a fact he knew would be more personal, and then laughed a little at the memory “You used to wear newspapers in your shoes.” Then Bucky’s eyes turned to Katie and he smiled softly at his friend’s wife. “You had lilies as your wedding flowers. Lilies were Steve’s ma’s favourite. You looked beautiful by the way.” “How do you…” she frowned, before her mouth dropped open and her and Steve exchanged astounded glances.

“You were there?” Steve looked at him.

Bucky smiled again. “Couldn’t miss your punk ass getting married.”

Steve raised a brow, and his face relaxed, “You can’t read about all that in a museum.” He said lightly.

“Just like that, we’re supposed to be cool?” Sam asked, sceptically.

“What did I do?” Bucky interrupted picking up on Sam’s anger easily.

“Enough.” Katie answered flatly.

Bucky sighed, breathing out in horror and disbelief, “Oh, God, I knew this would happen. Everything Hydra put inside me is still there. All he had to do is say the god damn words.” He muttered miserably.

“Who was he?” Steve asked.

“I don’t know.” Bucky admitted shrugging as best he could.

“People are dead.” Steve continued in a no nonsense tone. “The bombing. The set up. The doctor did all that just to get ten minutes with you. You need to do better than ‘I don’t know’.”

Bucky’s frown deepened, clearly trying to remember.

“He wanted to know about Siberia.” He recalled after a short pause. “Where I was kept. He wanted to know exactly where.”

“Why would he need to know that?” Katie asked, frowning, and Bucky paused.

“Because I’m not the only Winter Soldier.” He answered darkly.

“There’s more of you,” Katie blurted out and Bucky nodded glumly. “How many?”

“Five.” He confessed.

Katie looked at Steve who sighed, before looking at Sam and nodding. Sam moved to undo the clamp from Bucky’s metal arm where the pieces of the vice fell to the floor with a clang. The soldier nodded his thanks, shifting his body to a more comfortable position resting both arms on his knees. Katie stepped forward and handed him a bottle of water, before squeezing his shoulder. He smiled and twisted off the top, taking a large gulp as Steve continued.

“How? How did they make more?”

Bucky looked at Steve sadly before he turned to Katie. “Your dad.” He said gently, before he continued “He managed to back engineer the serum or at least a version of it.”

“So that’s why they were killed.” Katie whispered, looking at Steve. “HYDRA couldn’t steal it from under his nose, it would have been too obvious so they set up the crash and-”

She trailed off as a movement in her peripheral caught her attention. She turned slowly to Bucky who had shifted a little, almost drawing in on himself and she watched him until, after a moment or so, he raised his head to meet her gaze, his eyes full of tears and remorse.

Katie felt herself grow cold as realisation flooded her stomach. “It was you, wasn’t it?” She stated rather than asked, swallowing thickly.

“I’m sorry.” Bucky sniffed gently, eyes cast to the floor.

Steve let out a soft groan as Katie scrunched her eyes shut taking a deep breath, turning away from Bucky. Steve stepped toward her but she shook her head, stopping him as she took a step away, swallowing, trying to remain logical.

It wasn’t Bucky, it was the Winter Soldier. It wasn’t Bucky, it was the Winter Soldier…

“So you got the serum.” Steve spoke softly, his hands dropping to his belt as he turned from Katie to his friend “Then what?”

“Four men and a woman from were taken for transformation. They formed the most elite death squad in the world.” Bucky answered quietly. This was amongst the last things he ever wanted to talk about but he knew he had to. "More kills than anyone in HYDRA history. And that was before the serum.”

“They all turned out like you?” Sam asked curiously with a hint of sarcasm.

“Worse.” Bucky answered flatly.

“The doctor.” Steve asked next, as Katie turned around, her teary eyes focussing back on Bucky, her expression unreadable. “He could control them?”

Bucky glanced at Katie, then Steve before lowering his head, saying softly. “Enough.”

“He said he wanted to see an empire fall.” Katie cleared her throat as she repeated what the doctor had said.

“With these guys he can do it.” Bucky warned softly “They speak thirty languages, can hide in plain sight, they can infiltrate,assassinate, destabilize. They can take a whole country down in one night and you’d never see them coming.”

Katie pinched the bridge of her nose and looked up as Sam walked closer to her and Steve, speaking lowly.

“This would’ve been a lot easier a week ago.” He sighed.

“If we call Tony-” Steve began in the same hushed tone.

“He won’t believe us.” Katie cut in. “He’s blinded by all this at the moment, and even if he did-“

"Who knows if the Accords will let him.” Sam finished with a straight look.

“We’re on our own.” Steve pointed out the obvious.

Sam nodded then paused before saying slowly. “Maybe not.” Katie looked at him in a mix of surprise and expectancy, and he shrugged. “I know a guy.”

“Who?” she asked.

“Remember that dude that broke our perimeter a few weeks back?” Sam looked at her.

“Ant Man?” she frowned.

Sam nodded. “Worth a shot.”

“We also all know a girl.” Steve suggested. He didn’t need to explain he was talking about Wanda.

“But how we gonna do this?” Sam frowned “We can’t just fly back and go on a recruitment drive?”

“No, but,” Katie spoke as a sudden thought hit her, smiling at the two men who turned to face her. She looked at Steve and locked eyes with him. “There is someone that can.”

*****

After retrieving their gear from Sharon, with many thanks, they headed to a motel for the night. It was old, non-descript, but decent enough for a night’s rest, and more important was far enough away from the CIA base, and within reasonable distance of the airport which was their rendezvous point for tomorrow. If she was honest, Katie was just pleased to be getting away Bucky. She understood, and could reason with herself that Bucky wasn’t in control when he was the Winter Soldier but knowing that he’d killed her parents was a hard thing to simply push out of her mind. And more so because she should have suspected the moment she’d found out they were killed. Who else would HYDRA have sent to do it?

As soon as her and Steve got to their room, she’d withdrawn and retreated to the bathroom. Steve had respected her request that he leave her alone. She’d gently kissed his cheek, her way of assuring him that he wasn’t the issue and then shut the door behind her. She took her time, gathering her emotions, wiping her eyes before she leaned over the sink and splashed cold water on her face. She glanced at the mirror, taking in how tired she looked. Her fingers gently traced the scar to the corner of her mouth, and the other one which trailed her left temple and the tears sprung into her eyes. She knew as well as anyone what being stripped of your dignity, being tortured by HYDRA was like.

Fuck, Bucky deserved her sympathy, not her hate.

But Tony….he didn’t even know her parents had been murdered. If he found out about this, then here was no way on Earth he would be as understanding as she was. No way.

What a mess.

Wiping her face with a towel, she took a deep breath and then headed back into the main room. Steve, who was sat on the bed, looked up at her and flashed her a soft smile.

“You alright?” He asked.

“Not really.”

“Wanna talk about it?”

“Talk about the fact your best friend killed my parents?”

Steve sighed and looked down at his hands. “I’m sorry.”

“No I’m sorry, I shouldn’t take it out on you.” She sighed, stepping into the space between his legs where he was perched on the edge of the bed. Steve looked up as his hands slid up the outside of her thighs and gently stopped on her hips. “Not like you did it is it?”

“Doesn’t mean I’m not sorry about it.” He shrugged, squeezing her hips. “Sorry it happened, sorry that you found out like this, sorry about this whole damned situation.”

“Did you suspect?” She asked softly. “That he might have done it?”

Steve took a deep breath. Unlike Katie, he wasn’t surprised that Bucky had been the one to execute her parents. He’d pieced it together a while ago. Bucky was HYDRA’s number One asset, it made sense that they would send him in for such an important assassination. Still, the fact Katie had managed to remain civil and friendly to Bucky was a temperament to how strong she was. Faced with the same knowledge, Steve wasn’t sure he’d have the ability to do the same.

“Yeah, I did.” He answered honestly. “Since the time we learned it was HYDRA who killed your parents.”

“And you didn’t tell me?”

“Would it have made a difference?” He blinked and she took a deep breath.

“Suppose not.”

“I’m sorry, baby.” He hung his head. “I really am. I never thought in a million years we’d be here like this.”

“Yeah, it’s a bit of a mess isn’t it?”

“One way of putting it.” Steve let out a soft chuckle and gently moved his hands so they were round her back, pulling her closer to him. Her hands strayed to his hair as she ran her fingers through it. He smelt like the water of the river that had dried into his blonde spikes and clothes. Before she could tell him to go shower, they heard a noise from the room next door which Bucky and Sam were sharing. As they listened, it became apparent the two men were in the middle of some kind of heated argument.

“They’ll be best friends by morning.” Steve arched his eyebrow.

“You think?”

“No.” He shook his head and Katie laughed again, her hands continuing to brush through his hair.

“Why did you get all pissy before because I was impressed with how Bucky got that bike?” She asked, her hand stopping, before it moved gently down the back of his neck.

Steve dropped his head forward, where it rest just below the line of her breasts as he let out a noise that was half way between a groan and a laugh. “I did not get pissy.”

“Yes, you did” She pulled gently on his hair, tipping his head back so he was looking up at her. In a flash Steve used his arms that were round her waist, and she let out a small shriek as he quickly whipped her round so she was let on the bed underneath him.

“Alright, so maybe just a little. You forget I know what he’s like. And you’re mine.” Steve looked at her as she reached up to brush his hair back slightly. He was still covered in dirt from the day’s activities and once more she got a whiff of dirty river water.

“You need to take a shower.”

“Oh, that’s me?” Steve teased, giving a sniff, and she scoffed, hitting him on his chest.

“Yes, you stink.”

Steve chuckled and gave her a quick kiss before he moved and stood up, heading into the bathroom. Katie watched him go, his broad shoulders rippling through the back of his shirt, and the more she watched, the more she was reminded of him emerging from a lift shaft, grubbily, and wrestling with a helicopter with his bare arms.

It was totally inappropriate, all things considered. But right there and then, she didn’t give a shit. Whilst she was here, in this room, with him, she could lose herself, pretend that nothing else bar them existed.

Steve had barely reached over to turn on the shower before he heard Katie enter the room behind him. He spun to face her, and no sooner had he done so, her hand was behind his neck and she pulled his face down to her, pressing her lips to his. Steve grinned into the kiss as his wife went to work on removing his dirty clothes, as he did the same for her, kneeling down to pull her jeans and underwear all the way down her legs. His eyes scanned her naked body, taking in the various bruises she’d sustained, a particularly nasty on along her right ribcage. He gently kissed her skin, taking care not to place too much pressure where she was hurt, all the time her hands tangling in his hair before he rose to his feet, gently taking her face in his hands and kissed her as he manoeuvred her into the shower.

Neither of them paid the least bit of attention to actually getting cleaned up, instead they kissed and held each other under the spray of the water, tongues dancing together, hands sliding along slippery skin, squeezing and kneading where they saw fit. Eventually the teasing touches weren’t enough and Katie’s hands dropped down in between them to stroke him. Steve let out a choked hiss at her touch, he was more than ready, solid as a rock. Spinning her round so her back was to the wall, one hand lifted her leg and hooked it over his arm and he pushed inside of her, making her groan loudly.

“Oh God, Sweetheart…” Steve breathed out shakily against her lips, hand grasping on the steamy shower wall as he began pumping in and out. He felt her sliding a little, her foot struggling for grip on the slippy bath tub so he lifted her easily onto his hips so that she could wrap her other leg around him and her arms around his neck. She kissed, bit, sucked at any of the skin on his shoulder she could get to, lips skirting over the various bruises that she knew would be faded in a day or so, while he buried his face in her neck, his mouth gently sucking on that spot that drove her mad, as he continued to rut upwards, slowing his trusts and concentrating on driving deeper, harder. At the change of pace, Katie let out a groan and dropped her head back against the tiles.

"Stevie.” She moaned and he slid a hand around into her hair to keep her eyes locked on his.

He wanted to see her, needed to see her.

“You feel so good.” He muttered, groaning as she pushed downwards with her hips, taking him as deep as he could go. “I love you so fucking much.”

"I love you too.” She whimpered, her green eyes shone as he looked straight into them, the pair of them continuing to pant and moan and Steve shuddered as he felt her tighten around him, a sign she was close.

“You’re mine.” He demanded hoarsely into her ear, his thrusts speeding up again. “Say it, please, say it.”

Katie knew where his dumb little insecurity was coming from, and it wasn’t simply about Bucky’s bike trick. He was worried, worried that this whole situation was going to tear them apart because they both understood that a big enough quake could shake even the strongest foundations. But she wasn’t going to let that happen. They’d made vows, promised to love each other for the rest of their lives, and she wasn’t about to let this come between them. She couldn’t.

“TIl the end of the line.” She managed to stutter, her eyes boring deep into his ocean blues which were blown with desire as his hips began to falter their rhythm. “I’ll always be yours, Stevie.”

“Oh, Doll.” His voice was choked as he whispered into her ear and with that she was gone and Steve began to lose his battle against his self-control, shuddering hard as his abs tightened. Her heat gripped him as she groaned loudly, her orgasm leaving her utterly wrecked. He came with a cry of her name, and his thrusts slowed before he stopped, and buried his face into the crook of her neck, his body supporting her against the wall. After a moment he gently moved his head to offer her a kiss, this one soft, as she smiled at him, that satiated, satisfied smile only he ever got to see.

“We’ll be okay.” She whispered again, feeling the need to reassure him.

He kissed her again before setting her gently on her feet. She leaned into his hold as his arms gently wrapped around her. “I know.” He sighed softly, kissing her head. “I know.”

***** Dressing the next day in the same dirty clothes they had discarded the night before grossed Katie out, but to her surprise, Steve not so much. He informed her that he’d often worn the same clothes for days on end when in operations during the war, and she took the opportunity to tease him a great deal, asking him how on earth they managed as many stealth missions as they did when HYDRA could have smelt them coming a mile off.

It was good natured banter, Steve was happy to entertain it, but the moment they all climbed into the stolen, no, borrowed, car to head to the airport parking garage where it was agreed that they’d meet up with the rest of the team, the mood grew sombre once more as the realisation of what they were about to do descended on them.

Steve parked the car a few spaces down from the non-descript van that their man had described and as they climbed out two familiar faces exited the van.

“Hey Nova.” Clint beamed and Katie threw herself at him, Steve smiling at the reunion between the friends. Clint chuckled, lifting her up slightly into his arms before he set her down and she stepped back to look at him.

“Man it’s good to see you!” She smiled. “It��s been far too long! How are the kids, and Laura?”

“Ah, they’re great!” he beamed “Cooper’s starting sixth grade this time round, Lila is giving me back chat at every opportunity and Nathaniel’s walking now.”

Katie smiled releasing him from her hold and as he walked over to greet Steve. She then turned to Wanda wrapping her up in a warm hug.

“You alright?” She pulled back slightly to look the younger woman in the eye. “We’d never have left you if we’d known it would turn out like this, I’m so sorry.”

Wanda merely shrugged as Katie wrapped an arm around her shoulders.

“You know I wouldn’t have called if I had any other choice.” Steve looked at Clint as he shook his hand.

“Hey man, you’re doing me a favour. Besides,” Clint answered lightly shrugging, before he turned serious as he added nodding over his shoulder slightly, “I owe a debt.” Steve nodded gratefully, looking over at Wanda, Katie’s arm still round her, “Thanks for having my back.”

“It was time to get off my ass.” Wanda answered casually, sharing a meaningful look with Clint.

“How about our new recruit?” Katie nodded towards the van.

“He’s rarin’ to go.” Clint answered moving back over to the van to grab the door handle. “I had to put a little coffee in him, but,” he slid open the van’s side door hard, startling the occupant who was led across the middle seat causing him to give a sudden start, blinking. “He should be good.” Clint finished.

The brown-haired man groaned as he rolled out of his seat stepping down from the van while complaining to Clint. “What timezone is this?”

“Come on.” Clint answered, urging the man to get up, “Come on.” He repeated pushing him towards Steve. Scott stumbled a little before his mouth fell open and he blinked at the super-soldier a few times to make sure that what he was seeing was real. Katie grinned as she stood to the side, watching as he continued to stare at Steve in amazement.

Finally Scott closed his gaping mouth, then opened it up only enough to breathe out. “Captain America.”

“Mr. Lang.” Steve professionally offered his hand to the other man, which he took without hesitation.

“It’s an honour.” Scott answered, as he shook Steve’s hand enthusiastically which continued for quite some time. “I’m shaking your hand too long.”

Steve smiled a little in amusement as Scott finally let go of his hand, but continued staring at Steve in awe, “Wow. This is awesome.”

He turned back to Clint, pointing at Steve. “Captain America,” his words trailed off and his jaw dropped yet again when he caught sight of Katie and Wanda. Katie raised her eyebrows slightly as he looked her up and down

“Hey! Mrs America, again!” He grinned lamely and she smiled at him before catching Clint’s eye as he smirked at her, mouthing Mrs America…whilst saluting. She flipped him off as the Archer laughed.

“I know you too,” Scott pointed to Wanda, “You’re great.” He added making her smile.

Lang turned back around to Steve and reached out and grabbed both his shoulders and felt the muscles there

“Jeez.” He muttered before letting go. Even Steve couldn’t stop the small smile forming on his face as he glanced back at Sam and Bucky who were both watching the exchange stony faced. “Look, I wanted to say. I know you know a lot of super people, so, thanks for thinking of me.” Scott looked to Steve’s side and spotted Sam. His face faltered a little, clearly remembering the last time they encountered one another. “Hey, man.” Scott greeted pointing at him.

“What’s up tic-tac?” Sam replied flatly nodding to him in greeting.

“Good to see you, uh…” Scott answered hesitantly then looked a bit sheepish as he went on, looking from me to Sam “Look. You guys…what happened last time was-”

“It was a great audition, but it’ll never happen again.” Sam cut him off with a chuckle and a shrug.

“Did they tell you what we’re up against?” Steve asked Scott steering the conversation back towards the matter at hand.

“Something about some psycho assassins.” Scott answered unsurely having obviously gotten the abridged version from Clint.

“That’s one way of putting it.” Katie mumbled to Wanda getting a smile out of the younger girl before looking at Scott.

“We’re outside the law on this one.” Steve warned. “So, if you come with us, you’re a wanted man.”

“Yeah, well,” Scott muttered with a light shrug, “what else is new?”

“We should get moving.” Bucky suddenly chimed in from his spot where he had remained silent on the other side of the bug keeping himself separated from everyone else.

“I got a chopper lined up.” Clint informed them standing from where he had been seated just inside the van.

Steve nodded, and opened his mouth to say something but suddenly, an alarm began to blare, and an intercom began to speak in rapid German.

"They’re evacuating the airport.” Bucky informed as the rest of them glanced around uneasily.

“Tony.” Katie sighed when Steve caught her eye.

“Tony… Tony Stark?” Scott repeated in shock.

Steve didn’t answer as he looked round issuing a simple instruction. “Suit up.” Once they were all ready, Katie back in her cat-suit as Clint hadn’t been able to override the system to get her Nova suit, she turned to Steve and looked at him.

“There is one plus to Tony being here. He’ll have brought a Quinjet. That can get us to Siberia faster than any chopper.”

"She’s right,” Clint chimed in with a nod as he flexed his bow, “But Stark’s not stupid he knows that’ll be the first place we’ll go.”

“He’ll be waiting for us.” Sam concluded “And we don’t know who he’s brought with him”

“No, but I can make a fairly educated guess.” Clint crossed his arms.

Steve had been listening to their points intently and nodded a plan formulating in his head. “Alright. Listen up, here’s how we play this…” He explained and gave everyone their positions and they all nodded, except Katie, who shook her head when he told her to stick with Bucky and Sam.

“I’m going to talk to Tony.”

Steve frowned and looked at her. “I think he’s past reasoning with, Sweetheart, and besides, I don’t want you ending up in a position where you have to…” Steve trailed off before sighing unable to bring himself to finish the sentence, adding feebly instead. “He’s your brother.”

“Exactly.” Katie said softly, fully understanding what Steve was saying. If this ended in a fight, he didn’t want her feeling like she had to choose between them. Which was why she had to try to talk Tony round, “If I can’t get through to him, no one will. Let me try, please. ”

Steve looked at her. Whilst he knew that there was no point trying to talk to Tony, he knew that from her point of view she had to try. So with that in mind he nodded. “Alright.”

Once everyone was in position, Steve and Katie strode slowly towards the airport landing area, hidden in the shadows for now, until they spotted the helicopter that Clint had mentioned sitting out in the open just waiting for them. They both broke out into a run, leaving the cover of the airport, Steve keeping pace with Katie, but they were stopped short immediately as a small gadget hit the chopper’s wings, sending up an electric current short-circuiting the entire helicopter.

Just as they had predicted.

They both stopped as Tony flew down towards them, Rhodey by his side before they landed between them and the now useless helicopter.

"Wow.” Tony said sarcastically. “It’s so weird how you run into people at the airport.” His helmet slid back, revealing a black eye which he’d probably received from Bucky at the CIA base, turning to his best friend as he asked lightly. “Isn’t it weird?”

“Definitely weird.” Rhodey replied.

“Hear us out, Tony.” Katie stepped forward.“That doctor, the psychiatrist, he’s behind all of this.”

Steve tensed slightly as someone else landed gently to his side. He turned to see a very familiar black covered figure.

“Captain.” King T'Challa greeted politely. “Mrs Rogers”

“Your highness.” Steve returned in kind nodding. Katie did the same.

“Anyway.” Tony cut in, and Steve turned his attention back to him. “Ross gave me thirty six hours to bring you in. That was twenty four hours ago. Can you help your brother out?”

“Fuck Ross!” Katie shook her head, “Tony, you’re after the wrong guy.”

Tony’s expression hardened. “Your judgment is askew.” He accused quietly looking at her, he then turned to Steve. “Your war buddy killed innocent people yesterday-”

“And there are five more super soldiers just like him.” Steve tried to get Tony to understand.

“That’s a far bigger threat that we’re trying to stop.” Katie pressed

“We can’t let the doctor find them first, Tony.” Steve finished with a sigh “We can’t.”

“Steve, Nova…”

Steve and Katie both stiffened as they heard a familiar woman’s voice. Steve knew he should have expected that Natasha would be here as well, but still, hearing her made his gut twist a little. They both turned to face her, Katie’s eyes narrowing slightly.

“You know, what’s about to happen.” Nat warned with her eyes trained steadily on Steve, then she levelled a look at Katie. “Do you really want to punch your way out of this one?”

Katie turned back to Tony, shaking her head. “You’re not going to listen to us at all, are you?”

“I’ll do you a deal, come in and then I’ll listen” He offered

“It will be too late by then!” Katie’s voice growing urgent “This isn’t about the damned accords or Ross or anything else now. If he gets to those other soldiers first then…”

“Look, I’m tired of listening to your supposition.” Tony’s eyes were cold “So stand down and get out of the way.”

Katie felt her jaw drop slightly before she composed herself, and stared back at him. He was past all reasoning with, Steve had been right.

“No.” She shook her head slightly.

“I mean it Katie, get out of-”

“You forget, I’m a Stark as well.” She interrupted with a hiss. “And I can be equally as obnoxious, pig headed and stubborn as you so no. I won’t move.”

“All right, I’ve run out of patience.” Tony snapped. “Underoos!”

Steve frowned at the seemingly random call, before blinking in shock as something whipped through the air and caught his shield, pulling it out of his grip. At the same time as the shield was pulled up, something came down to bind his wrists together, and then Katie’s. They both glanced down in surprise at the sticky, web-like material before they looked at each other and then both lifted their heads back up to see the figure that had stolen Steve’s shield landing crouched on a nearby truck. He was dressed in a red and blue suit, and Katie recognised him as the enhanced being that had been taking the world by storm recently on the internet.

“Nice job, kid.” Tony called approvingly as Steve and Katie continued to somewhat gawk as the kid and Tony exchanged banter before he looked at Steve and gave him a shy salute

“Cap. Captain.” Steve nodded at him, the amusement of the situation rising on his face despite the circumstances. “Big fan, I’m Spider-Man.”

“Yeah,” Tony interrupted again, looking frustrated, “we’ll talk about it later. Just…good job.” He finished with a sigh.

“You’ve been busy.” Steve commented not bothering to hide his amusement.

“And you’ve been a complete idiot.” Tony snapped the anger in his voice evident “Dragging in Clint. “

“We didn’t drag in anyone-“ Katie started

'Rescuing Wanda’ from a place she doesn’t even want to leave. A safe place. I’m trying to keep-” “Did you even ask her if she wanted to be there before you locked her up?” Katie cut him off.

Tony glared at his sister, taking a deep breath to calm down. “I’m trying to keep you from tearing the Avengers apart.”

All traces of humour from the situation evaporated as Steve answered steadily, unable to bite back the dig that had been bubbling away at him for ages. “You did that when you signed.”

Tony’s eyes turned cold, "Alright, we’re done.” He said quietly before raising his voice sharply once again. "You’re gonna turn Barnes over and you’re gonna come with us. Now! Because it’s us!“ He tossed his hands wildly indicating to his team. "Or a squad of J-SOC, guys with no compunction about being impolite.”

Katie said nothing, instead she moved so that she was stood slightly in front of Steve and levelled her brother with a look. “We’re not going anywhere.”

“Well then, I guess you’ve made your choice.” Tony shot back, somewhat childishly.

“For fucks sake Tony!” She exclaimed as she looked skywards with a groan. “This isn’t about choices, it’s about stopping a bunch of soldiers far more dangerous than anyone can comprehend…”

“We found it.” Sam’s voice rang in their ears as Katie continued to hold eye contact with Tony, watching him intently as she waited for the right moment. “The quinjet’s in hanger five, north runway.”

Quickly Katie and Steve both held their bound hands high above their heads, catching Tony by surprise, as an arrow came flying from out of nowhere and cut through Steve’s bonds, then Katie’s, in single swoop without a problem.

And then it was game on. Lang managed to get Steve his shield back and the two groups began to tussle slightly- one team’s intention focussed solely on getting to the jet and the other’s focussed solely on stopping them.

And they were so close to getting there too. There had been no casualties, neither side fighting to hurt the other, but as Katie and Steve regrouped with Wanda, Scott, Clint, Sam and Bucky, and sprinted across the tarmac, they were all forced to come to a quick stop as a laser fired on the floor right before them.

“Captain Rogers.” Vision called as he began to float down in front of them. “I know you believe what you’re doing is right.”

Steve tensed as his group stood in a loose line on either side of him, staring at Vision. The android was joined by Tony and Natasha, and then Rhodey and T'Challa, and finally Spider-Man as they all stood still on the other side of the jagged line Vision’s beam had created.

“But, for the collective good,” Vision finished as he landed, “you must surrender now.”

“What do we do Cap?” Sam was the one to ask breaking the silence, only it wasn’t Steve that answered, it was Katie.

“We fight.” She answered simply, swallowing, her eyes fixed on her brother.

Steve glanced down at her, he really didn’t want to do this, but he knew there was no choice. They had to get to those soldiers. His hand briefly entwined round hers and she looked at him, giving him a short nod, before he let go and the pair of them started to walk forward, the rest of their team following as they picked up the pace and broke into a run.

Tony and Steve were the first to collide, Tony brining down his metal encased fist onto Steve’s shield which he brought up just in time to deflect the hit. Natasha and Ant-Man went at it for the second time, whilst King T'Challa had eyes for no one else but Bucky pouncing on him immediately and tackling him down to the ground.

Katie felt something hit her back and turned, just in time for her to be launched off the floor and sent flying across the tarmac as Spiderman had caught her in his webbing, dragging her out of the fray.

“Man.” She mumbled, getting up “I hate spiders”

“Heads up!” Clint shouted and Katie ducked as he fired an arrow up at Spiderman, who dodged it easily once more. “This kid is startin’ to piss me off.” Clint muttered, aiming another arrow. This one cut right through the webbing Spider Man had been using to propel himself around and he fell to the floor, a loud crash as he collided with one of the upturned cars.

Clint jogged off towards where he had fallen, and behind Katie something exploded sending her flying into the air, fast and then she began to fall, hard. She braced herself for the impact, as the ground rose to meet her, this was going to hurt. Suddenly a metal arm curved round her waist and Bucky turned them both in mid-air, before crashing into a pile of crates. He took the brunt of the impact, Katie landing on him, back to his chest. She moved to stand up and spotted that T’Challa was leaping through the air but Sam swooped in using both feet to kick him back before flying back up into the sky.

“You alright?” Bucky asked as he got up.

“Yeah, I had a soft landing.” She smiled. “Thanks Buck.”

He gave her a quick nod before he dodged off to his left again, and it was then that Katie saw in the space he had left to her left a flash of red-hair making a sprint to the hangar.

“Damned it Nat.” Katie mumbled as she set off at after her.

Steve found a slight reprieve in the fight and ended up pressed against the side of a set of the airport steps, looking at Bucky who was a few feet away from him.

“We got to go.” Bucky spoke earnestly “That guy’s probably in Siberia by now.”

“We’ve gotta draw out the fliers.” Steve replied, looking up before he glanced back at Bucky “I’ll take Vision, you get to the jet.”

“No, you get to the jet, I’ll take Vision.” Sam countered over the coms “The rest aren’t getting out of here.”

"As much as I hate to admit it,” Clint chimed in, “if we’re gonna win this one, some of us might have to lose it.”

“Clint’s right, this isn’t the real fight, Steve.” Katie shot urgently, sounding a little out of breath. Instinctively, Steve glanced around for his wife, but couldn’t see her. With a bit of luck she’d found somewhere to hide. He hated this, hated that she was fighting her brother. Hell, he hated that he was fighting her brother, or any of the other Avengers for that matter. But they HAD to get to Siberia. Nothing else mattered but stopping those soldiers being unleashed.

“Alright, Sam, what’s the plan?” Steve asking, looking up.

“We need a diversion. Something big.“

"I got something kind of big,” Scott joined in suddenly. “But I can’t hold it very long. On my signal, run like hell. And if I tear myself in half, don’t come back for me.”

“He’s tearing himself in half?” Bucky frowned as he looked at Steve who shrugged.

“You’re sure about this, Scott?” Steve asked.

“I do it all the time. I mean once, in a lab. And I passed out.” Scott confirmed doing absolutely nothing to ease the Captain’s worries.

And then suddenly Steve felt something huge behind him and he spun round, stopping momentarily, his mouth dropping open. Scott had appeared out of nowhere, only now he was at least a hundred feet tall and he grabbed Rhodes in mid-air as the War Machine flew by after Sam.

“I guess that’s the signal.” Steve looked at Bucky.

“Way to go, tic-tac!” Sam chuckled while Scott laughed.

Across the field, Katie reached the hangar and stepped inside, looking around. It was silent.

“I know you’re here Nat. I saw you come in.” With that Nat stepped out from the shadows at the side of the jet and Katie sighed. “Just listen to me. Please.”

“I never thought Steve would let you all fight us like this.” The red head looked at her. “Not for him.”

“It’s not like that. Tony is wrong.”

“I’ve seen first-hand what the Winter Soldier can do.” And with that Nat aimed a blow at Katie. She dodged it and grabbed Natasha’s arm, using it to flip her over her head. Nat landed on her feet behind Katie, who spun round in time to see her discharge a stinger at her which she narrowly managed to avoid.

The two friends then began to fight. They grappled, dodged, punched, kicked and then by some fluke of fortune, Katie managed to get behind Natasha, wrapping her in a headlock, forearm over her throat.

“I taught you well, too well it seems.” Natasha chuckled and Katie tightened her hold a little.

“Just listen!” She pleaded “The Winter Soldier is every bit as dangerous as you say…”

“Then why are you defending him!?” Natasha yelled, twisting from underneath Katie and pinning her arm up behind her back before kicking her hard, sending her flying forward and to the floor.

“I’m not, I’m defending Bucky, but that isn’t what this is about!” Katie shook her head, as she lay on the floor. “It’s about stopping them!”

“Stopping who- what do you mean them?” Natasha asked, momentarily faltering.

“There are more.” Katie looked at her, earnestly “More Winter Soldiers. At least five.”

“I don’t believe you.” Nat shook her head, eyes wide.

“Oh come on Nat, look at what it’s caused, why would I lie?” Katie groaned. “Bucky was framed by the Doctor that the UN let in to question him. He needed Bucky to tell him where he could find the others. And now he knows where they are, he has the power to control them. We have to stop him.”

Suddenly there was a loud crash, something had hit the metal tower outside the hangar. Nat turned towards it which was all the distraction Katie needed. She jumped up, and aimed a kick at Natasha’s right knee causing her to stumble forward. At that point Steve and Bucky burst into the hangar, and could do nothing but watch as Natasha spun round, right leg raised but Katie was ready. She grabbed Nat’s foot stopping her, so Natasha then pushed off with her left, swinging it at Katie’s head. But Katie had seen that move thousands of times and was ready. She ducked down and used the foot she had hold of to flip Nat back over. As Nat landed on her feet, Katie leapt into the air and used every inch of momentum she could muster to aim a hard double kick into Nat’s chest which sent her crashing into side of the jet. Katie landed on her back, slightly winded.

“Impressive.” Bucky had a smirk on his face as they crossed towards the women and Steve glared at him, causing Bucky to frown. “What?” “Nothing.” Steve replied, gruffly, not wanting to voice the fact that his mind had, once again, taken him back to being a jealous little punk at the most inopportune moments it could ever have chosen. He strode forward, offering his wife a hand as he pulled her up.

“You ok?” He asked, his hand falling to the side of her neck tenderly. Katie nodded, before she spotted Natasha in the corner of her eye scrambling to her feet, arm raised, stinger aimed.

“Damned it Nat!” Katie yelled, looking at her, pleading with her eyes. “Just trust us on this one, please!”

“You’re not gonna stop are you?”

“You know I can’t Nat.” Steve shook his head..

“I’m gonna regret this.”

She fired a stinger, but not at any of them. Instead it sailed over Katie’s shoulder causing them to spin round and see T’Challa stumbling over.

“Go.” Nat instructed, not looking at them.

Steve glanced around at Bucky, then to Katie and opened his mouth to tell Katie to stay where she was but she cut him off before he could even start. With a shake of her head she looked at him. “I’m not staying here.”

“She’s right.” Nat shot another stinger. “If she does she’s going to jail, you need to go now.”

Steve didn’t argue again, they were going to need all the help they could get, but he wasn’t completely happy about Katie facing off against another five Super Soldiers without her suit. But he’d worry about that when they got there, hopefully he could convince her to stay on the jet.

Without so much as a glance back, they ran up the ramp onto the jet and soon they were airborne and after a tense chase involving Rhodey, Vision and Sam, they were clear, and cruising their way to Siberia.

******

Tony had made a mistake. He knew that as soon as FRIDAY had patched through the update from the Berlin police. Barnes had been telling the truth. Which meant that his sister and brother-in-law were now about to face off with five super assassins. And the thought terrified him, not so much for the two super soldier, but for Kiddo, especially she had no suit.

He had to try and make this right.

Once the helicopter was landed, he climbed out, the rough sea wind whipping his suit jacket up slightly as Ross walked out to meet him.

“So?” Tony looked at him, shifting to try and make himself a little more comfortable, the sling on his arm was already pissing him off. “Did you get the files? Let’s re-route the satellites, and start face scanning for this Zemo guy.”

“You seriously think I’m gonna listen to you after that fiasco in Leipzig?” Ross shook his head as he looked at Tony. “You’re luck you’re not in one of these cells.” He added, making Tony raise his eyebrow. He stayed quiet and followed Ross into the depth of the prison. Ross stopped outside a door which was flanked by two guards, before he turned to face him. “Now, let me make one thing clear, Stark. You’re only here because I need you to find out where Rogers has gone. And I don’t give a shit that your sister is with him.” Tony took a deep breath and held Ross’ gaze as the man continued. “But I know that you will, so it’s in your interest to find out and tell us.”

“And then what?”

“Well I got a cell waiting for them too.” Ross shrugged. “Although we might be able to come to some arrangement if they sign the Accords.”

Tony bit back the snort that was threatening to erupt from his throat, as he knew there was more chance of hell freezing over. But, instead, he took a deep breath and nodded.

“I want to know where they are too. I couldn’t give a shit about Rogers or Barnes, but Kiddo….” He trailed off and shrugged.

Ross eyed him suspiciously, before he nodded to the guards who moved to key in the code at the side of the room. “Oh, and just so you don’t get any funny ideas, I’ll be watching and listening.”

Tony saluted him, causing Ross to give a roll of his eyes before he turned and left. Tony watched him go before he nodded to the guard and entered the room, letting out sigh as he looked at each of the cells that lined the round walls. As he glanced up at the cameras, taking in their location, a slow clapping echoed across the room.

“The futurist ladies and gentlemen.” Clint called loudly and Tony turned towards the archer. Clint didn’t even look at him as he continued sarcastically, “The futurist is here! He sees all! He knows what’s best for you, whether you like it or not.”

“Give me a break, Barton.” Tony stood in front of Clint’s cell, staring at him “I had no idea they’d put you in here.”

Clint’s spat on the floor "Yeah, well, you knew they’d put us somewhere, Tony.”

“Yeah, but, not some super max floating ocean pokey.” Tony shook his head. “You know, this place is for maniacs. This is a place for…” He trailed off.

“Criminals?” Clint bit out as he stood and faced Tony. “Criminals, Tony. I think that’s the word you’re looking for. Right? It ain’t used to mean me, or Sam, or Wanda. Yet here we are.”

“'Cause you broke the law.”

Clint snorted turning away from the bars, “Yeah.”

“I didn’t make you.” Tony pressed, even as Clint turned to walk around his small cell while muttering “Blah, blah, blah.”

“You read it,” Tony went on speaking. “You broke it.”

“Blah blah blah.” Clint continued to mutter as he turned his back on Tony

“Alright, you’re a grown up.” Tony bit back. “You’ve got a wife and kids. I don’t understand. Why didn’t you think about them before you chose the wrong side?”

Clint’s shoulders tensed in anger and he stood up but Tony had already left continuing down the cells, “You better watch your back with this guy.” He slammed his hands on the plexiglass covering the front of his cell as he shouted angrily “There’s a chance is he’s going to break it.”

Tony’s jaw ticked as he shot a glare back but he carried on walking past Scott Lang’s cell.

“Hank Pym always said you never can trust a Stark.”

“Who are you?” Tony shrugged as he continued.

“Come on, man.” Scott sighed

“How’s Rhodes?” Sam asked when Tony stopped in front of his cell, not turning around from where he was facing towards the back.

“We’re flying him to Columbia Medical tomorrow.” Tony replied. “So, fingers crossed. What do you need? They feed you yet?”

Sam turned to him revealing his black eye. “You’re the good cop now?” He asked, smirking sarcastically

“I’m just a guy who needs to know where Steve went.”

“Yeah well you’re gonna have to go Mark Fuhrman on my ass.” Sam crossed his arms over his chest defiantly.

“I figured as much.” Tony mumbled as he lifted his wrist in front of his sling and pressed a button on his watch. Sam arched an eyebrow questioningly.

“Oh, I just knocked the 'A’ out of their 'AV’.” He looked at Sam. “We got about thirty seconds before they realise it’s not their equipment.”

Sam glanced up at the camera before Tony spoke again, pressing another button on his watch flashing him her an image of the dead psychiatrist lying in a bathtub,

“Just look…because that is the fellow who was supposed to interrogate Barnes. Clearly I made a mistake. I was wrong.”

“That’s a first.” Sam muttered

“Look, Cap is definitely off the reservation and he’s about to face off against fuck knows what with my sister by his side. They’re gonna need all the help they can get.” Tony sighed “I messed up alright, I can fix this if you just-”

“Okay.” Sam sighed, “I’ll tell you, but you have to go alone, and as a friend.”

"Easy.” Tony shrugged and Sam quickly gave him the location.

With a nod, Tony headed to the room of the door, banged on it, and it swung open and he strode purposefully back towards his chopper.

“Stark, did they give you anything on Rogers?” Ross followed him.

“Nope, told me to go to hell.” Tony climbed casually into his helicopter as he added, “I’m going back to the compound instead. But, you can call me anytime. I’ll put you on hold, I like to watch the light blink.”

As soon as the prison was out of sight, Tony removed the brace off his arm and loosened his tie and then, with a short moment to contemplate what was about to happen, he took a deep breath and pressed a button on the helicopter controls, laying back as the seat collapsed beneath him while the Iron Man suit unfolded itself and attached onto him.

Chapter 32 Part 1

**Original Posting**

#stark spangled banner #steve rogers #steve rogers x ofc #Katie Stark #steve rogers x original female character #steve rogers fic #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers smut #the avengers #mcu #mcu fanfic #chris evans #chris evans characters

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readerinpastelblue · 3 years

Text

ACE OF HEARTS SERIES

FIRST MEETING

pairing: Chishiya x reader

word count: 1.5k

tw: mentions of death

a/n: I’m sorry it took a while, but I finally did it~ my first x reader fanfic because i got desperate. Please enjoy!

Your first meeting was not the most ideal of circumstances. Chishiya was a new member of the Beach and was undergoing what seems to be the Borderland version of a hazing, while you were abandoned by the friends you recently made after a Two of Clubs game. You can't find it in yourself to blame them. This is a Spades game; joining a large group of people will only get you killed easily. This doesn’t stop you from hoping they survive this game though, even if you are on the verge of passing out yourself. You remember forcing yourself to take one step after the other until you ended up stumbling into the room that started whatever this is you seem to have with him.

You and Chishiya coincidently ended up in the same floor, and the same room despite the vastness of this game's arena. Or maybe the two of you just shared the same vague idea on how to exit the school building without setting off too many traps. You let out a breath of relief when you realized it was another participant instead of a tagger. There were three taggers in total and they were restricted to their respective floors. You already passed by two taggers and you preferred it that way. Anything else is better than the taggers if you’re being honest. At that time, Chishiya had his back towards you, white hoodie and all. You practically dragged yourself towards him and before you could take a peek at the piece of paper in his hands that probably contained some idea on what will happen on this floor, he crumpled it in his hands and merely said, "Run."

You heard a resounding click behind you and you started sprinting. You didn’t even look back to see what was potentially chasing you both. Run now, questions later, you thought. Chishiya already had a head start but you managed to keep up with him. Joining the track and field club back in high school was probably the best decision you've even made in your life.

Both of you ran towards the direction where the elevator should be. You are betting on the off chance that none of the participants are currently using it. Chishiya reaches the elevator first and gets the doors to open. He gets in and you joined him just in time for it to close. The both of you collapsed on the floor out of exhaustion. The half-baked plan worked. Not only did you set yourself as bait to trap half of the rabid dogs in some of the rooms, you also had to trust a complete stranger to not abandon you in the middle of it all. The only gripe you had with him is that he insisted in keeping the other half to roam the floor. This plan of his would have most likely killed you. Luckily, you only lost a shoe. But it still took you longer than necessary to reach your exit.

"I was honestly ready to jump off the window if your plan failed." You joked.

Jumping out the windows will result to being lasered and you have no intention of dying that way tonight. Nor do you have any intention of losing this game. You would have run down the stairs to the 2nd floor and risk finding a tagger there instead. The taggers are only human and they would have been distracted by the pack of rabid dogs running after this poor and exhausted player.

You heard him snort beside you, clearly not believing a word you said.

"Get up, we still need to clear the second floor," he replied instead.

You pushed yourself off the floor before getting thrown back towards it by a force from a blast that shook the elevator. This terrified you a lot that you ended up grabbing the closest thing to you—Chishiya’s arm. Embarrassingly, you unconsciously pressed your body to his side and buried your face right in his shoulder. It didn’t help that he pushed you away, but at least he held out his hand to help you stand up. Another rule of the game is that for every 10 minutes that pass, one floor starting from the 10th floor will be incinerated. That blast must have been from the 4th floor.

After assessing your current situation, you made the conclusion that you went straight to the first floor. Last time you checked, this building didn’t have any basements. The rules of the game also said that the first floor is the end goal so there shouldn’t be any traps in this floor. You only need to get out of this metal death trap to officially get on the first floor. You checked the phone that was provided by the game masters and saw you still have over 30 minutes before the remaining floors are burned down.

The elevator doors were already a few inches open so you took a peek and found that the floor was devoid of any furniture or other ornament except for the standard table you often see at the end of each game that contains the card they were playing.

“I think this is it. We’re almost there,” you said as you excitedly pushed the door further open. Since you clearly could not open it by yourself, Chishiya decided to lend you a hand. As soon as it was wide enough to fit a person, Chishiya let himself out first while you followed behind him.

You headed for the exit immediately while he grabbed the card from the table. The sound of a notification bell emanated from both of your pockets. This indicates the added days to your visa. This means you have a total of 7 days before your visa ends. This was good, it gives you more time to prepare for your next game. You recently started training your body seriously again. You even found people who were kind enough to teach and offer you some advice to survive Borderland. This reminds you that you actually prepared for tonight. You grabbed your water bottle from the fanny pack you brought with you and took a couple of sips.

Now that you felt refreshed, you shifted your attention to your new found companion who was just casually walking out of the building like they didn’t just play a death game a few moments ago.

He actually looks…. good? Cute? Handsome? My type? You couldn’t believe how you managed to survive a Diamonds game but still short circuits at the sight of a handsome man.

In this moment, you failed to realize that you have been staring at this stranger for a full minute.

“Water?” you offered all of a sudden, dangling your half empty water bottle in front of him.

He stared at you for a few seconds before finally accepting it.

“It’s not much but it’s better than nothing,” you said just to fill the awkward silence as he drinks.

“Thanks,” he replied, handing you back the bottle

This time, another explosion broke the awkwardness between the two of you. This time, it was at the third floor. You heard someone scream and you pretended it was someone you did not recognize. Reality finally sinks in with you. Now is not the time get distracted. You needed to keep your head in the game and gather as much intel as you can so that you can get back to your world as soon as possible. You sat on the steps outside of the building and kicked off the shoe you were wearing. It makes no sense to wear it since you already lost the other pair. You threw it as far as you can that it went past the gates. Chishiya noticed this and began to leave. While you were inwardly disappointed to see him leave, you were more concerned with other things.

“Aren’t you going to wait for your friends?” you asked, raising you voice to make sure he hears you.

You half expected him to ignore you completely, but he surprised you when he paused and replied, “I don’t have friends. But I think you should leave yours instead,”

Tempting.

“No thanks.” You didn’t bother raising your voice anymore. He probably knows the answer. It was not in your blood to abandon people, especially this small company you made. You just can’t.

You continue to watch his back until it disappeared from your view. Even then, you simply stared into the empty space he left behind. You didn’t even get his name, not that he asked yours. You weren’t even sure if you’ll ever meet him again. One of these games will surely end him, or maybe it gets you first. Or maybe you both survive and see each other in your old lives. In a café, or a park, or maybe at a party during the weekend.

You allow your train of thought to go on and on in that direction. Even if it’s only for a few minutes, you let yourself fall into a fantasy of your own making until you finally heard the last explosion.

Ah. Time’s up.

#chishiya x reader #chishiya shuntaro #alice in borderland #aib #chishiya #aceofheartseries #aohs:first meeting

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thewayshedreamed · 4 years

Text

Open Secrets— Nessian AU

Prompt submission by Nonnie— Reverse fake dating au where everyone thinks you’re dating and you’re keeping it a secret, but you’re not.

Thanks to whoever submitted this prompt! I’d originally completed this prompt for Feysand, but I struggled between that one and this one! Thanks to @awesomelena555 and @bookstantrash for encouraging me to post the Nessian version too!

——————————————————————————

Nesta pulled up to Rhysand and Feyre’s new home about 30 minutes after their house-warming party had begun. It was certainly a little out of character of her, being that she was someone who considered five minutes early as “on time”. It wasn’t really her fault. Elain had called her right before she pulled into their neighborhood to let her know they had drastically underestimated the amount of alcohol they would need for all the guests. Nesta had driven a little past the neighborhood to make the supplemental booze run, and she was about to walk into this party a hero.

She slipped into the party, aiming to keep a low profile. She absolutely hated arriving somewhere and being the sudden center of attention, so she was hoping to avoid that. The party was split; half indoors and half outdoors, making it all the easier for her.

She took inventory of her surroundings as she made her way toward the kitchen. There were several small groups sprinkled around in conversation, and some were outside playing yard games or drinking games. She already felt hungover just watching them.

Her eyes landed on Rhys, Azriel, and Cassian. They were off to the side, all sipping on drinks, and talking enthusiastically with each other. She noticed Cassian seemed to be on the receiving end of whatever hell they were giving, if his rigid posture and frequent eye rolling was any indication. She chuckled a little at that; he probably had that coming.

He excused himself abruptly from the conversation, tossing his beer bottle into a trash can a few feet away. He walked toward the house, and Nesta quickly directed her attention back to unloading the beer and liquor to wherever it needed to be stored in the kitchen. She heard the sliding glass door open, then close, followed by heavy footsteps walking through the kitchen.

“Hey, Nes! When did you get here?” He threw an arm around her shoulders, giving her a side-hug while she worked.

It seemed like such a small thing to most, but the fact that she and Cassian had made it to this point impressed her. With the way things had started when they’d originally met, things looked bleak for them on the friendship front. She wasn’t sure when his snark and cocky demeanor shifted from infuriating to endearing, but she had come to learn that those traits were such a tiny part of who he was. All of that considered, she leaned in to the casual side-hug, not wanting to take their progress for granted.

“Just now, actually. I haven’t even finished unloading the car.”

”Damn, sweetheart. How much booze did you bring?!” He grabbed a beer from the fridge and opened it as he leaned back on the counter.

”Probably not enough if we’re sharing with the likes of you,” she teased. She felt a small tap between her shoulder blades, followed by a ping sound. She turned around to see Cassian’s beer cap sliding across the floor. That little shit actually threw his beer cap at her.

She glared at him and was met with a sideways smirk on his face. He broke into a laugh when she didn’t back down and rocked forward to push himself off the counter.

“Sorry, sweetheart. I’ll make it up to you by helping you unload the car. Keep me company?” he requested.

”Fine. On the way you can tell me what your friends were giving you shit about outside. I’m starting to think maybe you earned it,” she taunted.

The cadence of his steps was interrupted just a fraction by her question, but he recovered quickly enough.

”Actually, I don’t know that I did this time.”

”Well now I’m definitely intrigued.”

He hesitated for several seconds, his jaw working as he thought through what to say next.

“I’m not sure I should tell you,” he stated, as he opened the backseat of her car. He grabbed the rest of the drinks before shutting her car door firmly.

“That makes me want to know even more, Cassian.”

”Okay, fine. But just remember that you wanted this. And you can’t be mad or get weird about it.”

His disclaimer gave her pause, but she nodded her head anyway. Curiosity won this round.

“For whatever reason, they have their minds made up that you and I are seeing each other and are trying to keep it on the down low. I’m still not entirely sure why they think we would keep it under wraps if we were involved, but that’s their theory right now.” His words came out in a rush as if he was trying to get it over with and pretend they never had the conversation.

Nesta merely blinked several times before replying, “Hm. Okay. So I get that they didn’t tell you why they think we’d hide it, but did they at least say why they think we’re a thing in the first place?”

Cassian rolled his eyes as he unloaded the remaining drinks into the refrigerator.

“Who the fuck knows with those two? All I remember them saying was something about how we have way too much tension between us and how we went from hating each other to being friendly overnight.” He took a swig of his beer.

”So, since we’re nice to each other now, we’re fucking?” There was no frustration in her tone. She was actually a little amused at how faulty the logic was.

Cassian choked on his beer; the result of not being prepared for that question coming from Nesta, of all people. He coughed into his elbow several times before he recovered.

“Caught me off guard, sorry. Yes, apparently, but I told them to knock it off.”

She was lost in thought for several seconds. “This could be fun,” she mused.

”What could be fun?” His confusion was obvious all over his face.

“The more we try to prove them wrong, the more they’re going to think they’re right. So why not just lean into it and have a little fun messing with them.”

”Oo. I like this. Get them all riled up about it and let them down later. I can’t say I’d hate to watch them squirm a little,” he replied.

”Exactly. But if we do this, we have to commit. We can’t question each other in front of anyone else, or the whole thing is shot,” she warned. “If we feel like we’re not on the same page, we reconvene here and make our way back out there once we figure it out.”

He smiled at her, a true broad smile, with the gleam of mischief in his hazel eyes. “You’re a wicked little woman, Archeron. I love it.”

——————————————————————————

They walked from the kitchen together, breaking apart once Nesta started making her rounds to greet everyone. Cassian walked back over to his friends, who were both clearly amused with themselves even still. He wanted to throttle both of them.

“What took you so long, Cass?” Rhys asked, a cocky little half smile on his face.

”Helped Nesta unload all the booze out of her car.” He took a long swig of his beer. “Don’t you say a fucking word, you prick.”

”Wouldn’t dream of it,” Rhys replied, earning a laugh from Azriel.

Both of them looked over his shoulder just as he felt someone approach him from behind. He felt a small hand rest on his bicep, turning him slightly toward them.

“Hey, Cass,” Nesta beamed up at him, and he swore his heart stopped. “I never said thank you for helping me.” She glanced down at her hand, and quickly drew it away to put it in her back pocket. She looked down at the ground and cleared her throat before looking at him again. “So, thank you. I owe you one.”

Wow, she was good. She looked every bit the part of someone who lost her bearings and was caught being affectionate. His returning smile was genuine.

“Of course. Happy to do it,” he replied, as she turned her attention to greet Rhysand and Azriel.

She walked away to make her next stop in greetings, and he made sure to watch her go for just a second longer than necessary. When he turned his attention back to the guys, they were smirking at each other like the smug bastards they were. This was going to be too easy.

——————————————————————————

The next couple of hours progressed in a similar fashion. Surprisingly, they stayed on the same page without much effort, playing off of each other from one scenario to the next. They gravitated to each other when their paths happened to cross, but they kept their interactions short. If someone walked up on them, they slipped away somewhat awkwardly as if they were guilty of something they shouldn’t be doing. They easily slipped small, seemingly intimate actions into each interaction whenever they knew Rhys or Azriel was nearby. Nesta would rest her hand on Cassian’s forearm briefly as they laughed. Cassian would shove her with his shoulder in passing, earning a playful scolding from Nesta. A couple of times when they were standing in a small group, Nesta would subtly grab Cassian’s drink to take a sip and hand it back as if it were second nature. In response, Cassian would rub his thumb absent-mindedly over where her lips had touched the rim. By this point, Rhys and Azriel were nearly bursting with their desire to call them out on their behavior.

They partnered up for a couple of games, making it a point to stand an arm’s length apart. However, occasionally when things would go their way, they would engage in a celebratory hug and simultaneously spring apart to their original places like they forgot themselves. Nesta decided they worked incredibly well together despite being such an unlikely alliance. They won the second game and celebrated with loud cheers and a high five. Nesta caught Cassian’s eye briefly, muttering “Kitchen, in 5” through her smile.

She made her way there and busied herself with refilling her drink. Right on time, she heard Cassian’s heavy footfall entering the kitchen. She turned around, meeting his amused expression with one of her own.

”Hey! Everything okay? Am I not reading this right?” he asked.

“No, no, no. You’re great. I just wanted to talk without eyes on us for a second to see how you think things are going. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve caught Rhys and Azriel glancing over at us,” she said through a chuckle. His shoulders seemed to relax at her reassurance.

He responded with a laugh of his own. “Oh, they’re crawling out of their skin. Especially Rhys. It kills him when he thinks he’s right but can’t say anything.”

”That’s definitely like him,” Nesta joked.

Around Cassian’s shoulder, she saw Azriel through the glass door approaching the house. She glanced up at her partner-in-crime with a conspiratorial grin across her face.

“Hug me. Hurry— make it good.” He did as he was told, looping an arm around her waist and cradling her head to his chest. “When you hear the door open, back up.”

A few more seconds passed before they heard the long slide of the glass door as Azriel pulled it open. Cassian made a show of tensing and pulling away quickly, clearing his throat. Nesta shoved her hands into her back pockets as she had done several times over the course of the day when she was “caught” touching her rumored lover.

“Well, hey guys. How’s it going?” Azriel asked with a cocky, sideways smile.

Cassian mumbled something about needing the restroom and quickly fled the premises, leaving Nesta to brave Azriel alone. He’d definitely be paying for that one.

“Good. I needed a little break from outside. Got a little overwhelmed with all the hustle and bustle.”

”Mm. Understandable,” he replied, grabbing another beer from the fridge and turning toward her. “What was all that about? With Cass?”

”What was what?”

“Nesta. All the hugging I had the misfortune of walking in on. What’s going on with you two?” He leaned back onto the counter, crossing one ankle over the other and putting his free hand in his front pocket.

It took her a second to gather her thoughts before she decided she didn’t particularly care for being the only flustered one around here. Additionally, she was annoyed that Azriel seemed so cocksure about his position, as if Nesta were totally oblivious to all the questioning he and Rhys had done earlier. Granted, as far as they knew, she was, but that was neither here nor there.

It was time for the tables to start turning, even if she hadn’t had the chance to discuss it with Cassian yet. However, if he were that concerned about it, he wouldn’t have completely abandoned her to deal with Azriel. He was along for the ride now and would have to go with the flow.

Azriel wasn’t one to be easily flustered, that much Nesta knew. She knew she wouldn’t be able to be incredibly subtle because he would see right through it. She also knew he wasn’t above continuing to point on the flaws in her logic if she were to get caught in that web. She had to be decisive, creative, and she had to commit.

She walked over a little closer to him, facing him and propping her hip on the counter next to where he was leaning. She looked up into his face, and he eyed her suspiciously, an apprehensive look dawning over his features. Perfect.

“So, that’s in then. You’ve cracked our code?” she asked quietly.

”I wouldn’t call what you two have a ‘code’, Nes.” Arrogant bastard. Any doubt or guilt she’d felt for deceiving her friends had officially dwindled to zero. Azriel’s response had served her in that way, at least. She inched slightly closer to him, running her fingertips from his forearm down to his wrist, where his hand met his pocket.

“Then you knew we were going to talk to you? What gave it away?” she whispered, looping her fingers around the sensitive underside of his wrist.

Azriel’s eyes widened, glancing to her hand and back up to her face quickly. She watched his throat bob as he swallowed.

”You hardly need my permission, Nesta,” he responded.

She brought her other hand to cup his shoulder, leaning into him a little more. She could feel his entire body tense as if moving too quickly would provoke her to attack. He took an extra long pull from his beer.

“I disagree. Cassian and I both insisted that we talk to you together.”

It was at that moment that her co-conspirator returned from his bathroom trip. She watched as he scanned the situation, noting her hands on Azriel’s arm and shoulder. He pulled his lips into a curious smile.

“The two of you look cozy. I thought we were talking to him together, sweetheart,” he said, playing off of the comment he’d overheard.

He moved to the spot on the other side of Azriel, shooting her a questioning look when Azriel’s attention was turned away from him. Nesta’s face gave nothing away as she let out a soft laugh, shaking her head at Cassian with affectionate exasperation.

“You took a little while, and I wasn’t sure when we would be able to get him alone again. I hadn’t said anything to him yet. Not without you.”

”Well, don’t let me stop you. By all means, love, carry on,” he said, using a flat palm gesture forward. He gave her a full smile in return, and she noted how much it softened his features. He truly was quite beautiful, in a rough, raw sort of way.

She peered up at Azriel, waiting until he looked down at her.

“You mentioned me and Cassian, but it’s not what you think. At least, not exactly.” He gave her a confused look. She decided to continue before she lost her nerve with this last-minute plan. She turned her gaze to Cassian for the briefest of seconds before looking back at Azriel.

“I don’t really know how to ask this properly, so I’m just going to go for it, I guess. I know you think we’re sleeping together and it’s some kind of secret. But honestly, we wouldn’t care to be secretive about just us. We’re adults. But, we wanted to be respectful of you in the event you were okay with this.”

She could see Cassian hanging on her every word beside Azriel, just as naive to what she was going to suggest. She took a breath before finishing in a low rasp, sounding way more confident than she felt. It was all for the mission, she told herself.

“We wanted to know if you’d join us, Az.” She watched as his eyes nearly popped out of his head, hurrying to finish. “I know, I know. Probably out of nowhere, but we agreed we would give you some time to think. And it doesn’t have to be an ongoing thing if you want to try and see how it goes. No hard feelings either way, seriously.”

She moved her gaze to meet Cassian’s, whose hazel eyes were also threatening to launch from their sockets. He mastered himself quickly, his timing perfect, since Azriel was snapping his head toward him.

”What the fuck is happening? What the fuck is this?” He was looking back and forth between them, begging for an explanation or an escape route.

Nesta feared that maybe she had made an executive call that Cassian wasn’t good with carrying through. To her surprise, he lifted one of his large hands to cup Azriel’s cheek, keeping his face turned toward him.

”Az, it’s okay.” He subtly rubbed his thumb over Azriel’s cheek, and Nesta had to bite her cheek to keep from giggling. “You don’t have to say anything now. It’s just... I trust you. And if I’m going to do this, it makes the most sense for it to be with someone who knows me like you do. Plus, you were first on Nesta’s list.”

She shot him a heated glare, knowing he was throwing her under the bus as revenge for keeping him out of the loop. She supposed she had earned that.

Azriel shot from his position, walking to the other side of the kitchen. He set his beer down and braced both of his large hands on the countertop. His head was hanging forward as he took deep breaths, and they heard him mutter a low, “What the fuck?”

Nesta and Cassian had both oriented toward him, their backs now toward the counter. They were standing shoulder to shoulder, Cassian with his hands in his pockets and Nesta with her arms crossed. She grabbed her drink she’d refilled earlier to take a sip before offering some to Cassian.

Ariel’s head lifted slightly as he fixed his gaze on the wall in front of him.

“Why do people always ask me to be part of their threesomes?” he whispered to no one in particular. Nesta and Cassian turned their heads toward each other, both of their brows raised in question. How often was this happening to Azriel?

He turned around to face them again, his brown furrowed in concentration.

“Az, don’t overextend yourself for our benefit,” Cassian joked. “I didn’t realize we were two of many.”

”Fuck off, Cass.” He rubbed his temples in impatience. “Can I ask, why me?”

Nesta didn’t miss a beat. They’d tortured him enough, and she was ready to reveal the truth.

“Well, seeing as you and Rhysand feel so comfortable as to insert yourselves into other’s affairs, we figured you may appreciate a front-row seat,” she replied dryly.

Cassian snorted a laugh and looked down at her with something like admiration. He bumped her shoulder with his for good measure.

“You’re messing with me?” Azriel demanded incredulously. Cassian broke out into a full laugh at that.

“Indeed. Nothing gets by you, Az,” he responded.

”We have been all day,” Nesta interjected. “You two were quick to lean in to your theory.” She couldn’t hide her laugh this time.

Azriel stood there, dumbfounded and speechless. His eyes scanned both of their faces and darkened as he noted their amusement.

“What the hell is wrong with you? You can’t just go around asking people to join you in threesomes!”

”Don’t be upset, man. You’ll always be my first choice,” Cassian teased.

Azriel’s eyes locked onto his, showing a strong promise of violence if this conversation didn’t change direction.

“Oh, stop it. Both of you. Cassian, stop antagonizing Azriel. And you.” She pointed her finger to where Azriel stood. “You think I didn’t know about you and Rhysand’s little theories about me and Cassian? All because we dared be nice to each other?”

She gave him a chance to respond. He didn’t.

“I’ve seen every single smirk you two have exchanged anytime we were within 10 feet of each other, so sure that you were right about us. We fed every bit of it to you on a platter, and you were too quick to believe what you wanted. Well, let this,” she gestured with her finger in a circle, “be a reminder that things aren’t always as they seem. And stop theorizing on your friend’s sex life. You know better than anyone that his arrogance would have him giving you the details for less than this.”

“Hey!” Cassian complained. “I’m on your side.”

Azriel lifted both of his hands in surrender, breathing a low chuckle before he spoke.

“I don’t know whether I’m more relieved by the truth or pissed off that you two did this to us all damn day. But either way, you’re right, Nesta. It’s really not our business, and we’ve been know-it-all little pricks all day long. I’m sorry. Truly.” He moved forward, holding out his arms in offer of a group hug. They accepted, Nesta gripping each of them around the waist and Cassian wrapping around both of their shoulders.

Just before they let go, Cassian nuzzled his face into Azriel’s neck, earning a curse from Azriel as he playfully pushed him away. Nesta threw her head back in a laugh, relieved, yet disappointed, that their game had come to an end.

——————————————————————————

Later that evening, what remained of their little gathering had moved inside to continue the festivities. Someone had suggested Twister, and Cassian had offered to referee and work the spinner. He was way too fucking big for this game.

“Right hand, blue!” he called.

He watched as his friends scrambled to find the closest blue space, bickering as if it were life or death. He laughed as he watched Rhysand and Nesta battle over the same blue space. The latter ended up sprawled on her ass by the time the turn was over. She huffed her frustration and landed a firm poke to Rhysand’s ribs before stalking over to the couch by Cassian.

“Cheap shot, demon witch,” Rhysand called after her. The masked affection in his tone was obvious, but she shot him a vulgar gesture all the same.

“Don’t be a sore loser, sweetheart,” he teased, as she plopped down on the couch next to him. “You got yours earlier tonight when Azriel filled him in on our ruse.”

“That’s totally different,” she insisted.

He called out the next position, watching intently for any foul play. He heard her quiet voice from next to him and had to fight the urge to turn to her.

“You know, I had a lot of fun with you today,” she said.

“I did, too. We made a good team,” he replied.

He rested a hand above her knee absent-mindedly, pulling it away just as quickly to flick the spinner for the next turn. Apparently, their day of shenanigans had lowered any reservations he had about making physical contact with her. His palm seemed to burn slightly where he’d touched her.

“Right foot, green!” he called.

She dropped her voice just a bit lower so that only he could hear over the mixed sounds in the room.

“Did it make you even a little curious? I guess all that pretending had me thinking of what it would be like if we...” she trailed off.

He couldn’t fight his glance at her this time. He took note of her bottom lip between her teeth and the slight blush across her cheeks. That was the second time tonight that he had been struck dumb by how beautiful she was.

He fought to turn his face away from hers to initiate the next turn. He called out the next position before answering her as nonchalantly as possible.

“Curiosity hit me well before tonight, sweetheart.” His heart thundered slightly at the admission.

Out of the corner of his eye, he watched as she reached for his phone on the cushion between them. She handed it to him when she was prompted with the lock screen, and he mindlessly typed in his code. She worked for a second, locked his phone, and placed it back into its original position before reaching for her own.

He had to settle a disagreement between Mor and Feyre about hand placement before he was able to turn his attention back to Nesta. Why the fuck had he ever volunteered for this?

He unlocked his phone to see that his messaging app was open. There was an outgoing message to a number he didn’t recognize. Upon opening it, all the message said was, “Cassian.”

He glanced over at Nesta, watching as she stopped typing and locked her own phone. Within seconds, his phone vibrated with an incoming message from that unknown number. Nesta’s number.

He scanned the message, realization dawning on him within seconds. She’d sent him her home address followed by four simple words. “No pressure. No expectations.”

Before he could say anything at all, Nesta stood from the couch, reaching her arms over her head in a long stretch. His mouth went dry looking at the lines her body made as she did so.

“Alright, guys. It’s past my bedtime. I’m out,” she called as she blew kisses to her sisters.

She grabbed her things, slid her feet into her shoes, and made her way toward the door. She lingered for half a second to give Cassian a small smile. Just like that, she was gone, leaving Cassian to finish what seemed like it could be the longest Twister game in all of eternity.

——————————————————————————

Kind of already have a part 2 swimming around in my head for this one, so that may be a thing soon!

Feel free to keep the prompts coming, and let me know if you have a particular pairing or mood in mind ☺️

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#nessian #nessian au #nessian fanfic #nesta #cassian #acotar #acomaf #acowar

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