#we out here fighting in the trenches for truth & respect

[idk-bruh-20]

so glad I found another person that's just. Refusing to acknowledge endgame. Lovely music, the scenes were cool. the ending? don't remember. there was a rush to the hospital I think? Everyone lived, if i'm remembering correctly? I'm delulu and i'm free (I will never forgive marvel) take care of yourself !! <3

Yayayay yes exactly!!! There is no endgame in ba sing se y'all!!!

#glad to be arm in arm with all you smart & like-minded individuals! #much MUCH smarter than canon mcu & all the weirdos somehow accepting Tony's death #pffffft as if my guy would just go and DIE??? on his CHILDREN??? and leave them to SUFFER?????? #be real be serious #irondad and spiderson #iron dad and spider son #tony stark #anti endgame #we out here fighting in the trenches for truth & respect #even when I'm not online so much know I'm out there with u in spirit

[cheemscakecat]

Emesis Blue Soldier’s Nightmare

So I’ve theorized that Emesis Blue was a shared nightmare, but I’ve neglected to talk about poor Solly in detail until now. I’ve mentioned what I think his nightmare was about, but not with evidence and important details.

TW: Angst, death, Soldier’s hypothetical trauma. [War is Hell for a reason]

So here’s what I think Soldier was afraid of, and why.

#1: Bad leadership

Unlike our boy RED Soldier, who was never allowed to join the military, BLU served in WWII. He’s an actual veteran that served in the army, not the Navy.

The American army that stormed Omaha beach had to make their way across Europe, and trench warfare was employed.

So we know Solly wasn’t lying/implanted with a false memory about military service.

That being said, a soldier is right to be afraid of bad leadership. If you have someone who cares more about the end goal than the men under him, or is too incompetent to come up with a good strategy, soldiers die. More than needed to, and the worst is when the leader is convinced he’s smarter than the people who have to follow his command.

He got chewed out in the sewer via grown man tantrum and blamed for literally everything that went wrong to that point. Even though Spy is arguably the one at fault for 85% of the bad plays.

And every time Solly does something really competent, that should show Spy that he’s a valuable, loyal teammate? It doesn’t matter. It falls on deaf ears and he’s still considered stupid, useless, and cowardly.

It never mattered how well Soldier did, Spy wasn’t going to respect it. And you never want a person like that leading other people to their deaths.

That being said, if Spy is afraid of becoming the worst version of himself like I theorize, then that would mean he was left open to serving the role of bad leader in Solly’s nightmare. They amplified each others fears and didn’t know it.

#2: America was never “the good guy”

The Tf2 comic takes place in 1972, and I place the shared nightmare after the unknown resolution to the 7th issue. That means the Vietnam war is still going on and being televised.

WWII was an anomaly of a war: there was a clear good side and bad side. In a lot of conflicts, both sides do terrible things at a pretty much equal rate, and the whole thing started over power or land disputes. WWII Germany was an anomaly in that it was clearly an evil power, and everyone could root for the other side.

And then it was followed up by the Cold War, and smaller proxy wars like Vietnam. It was televised, and the people of the USA saw in real time that the government was lying to them, that they weren’t “the good guys”. The grisly footage did not add up with the lies spread by the US government. The American soldiers of that war returned defeated and hated by their own civilian population.

It’s three years before the end of the war. BLU Scout may well have joined the mercenary team to avoid service in Vietnam instead of going to Canada.

Maybe Soldier didn’t feel ready to hang up his helmet, and wanted to at least know what he was getting himself into. BLU and RED don’t pretend to be fighting for a good cause, you get money for fighting some other guys so you can respawn and do it all over again.

It’s better to use a rocket launcher on a random RED merc who’ll be alive in an hour than to do what the American army was commanded to do in Vietnam. To civilians. Which was then televised and wised up the public about the truth. To this day, Americans don’t trust the government like they did pre-Cold War. You’re telling me Soldier wasn’t one of them?

Solly is a WWII veteran. He’s pretty likely to try to keep up with what’s happening in the Cold War. Watching that footage made him doubt that America was ever “the good guy”. That he and his fallen friends were ever really heroes.

This other soldier could be one of the fallen WWII friends from Doe’s Platoon, but I thought of another possibility. He’s a German soldier that our guy killed, wearing the American uniform. Because that death would be permanent, and if America was never really good, they’d have a lot more in common than Solly used to think.

Either explanation would explain why Jane keeps freezing up every time he sees the guy. But the fact that he befriended an enemy Demoman and the elongated Scout situation could both give credit to the German theory.

Demoman represented the fact that sometimes the enemy is not really an enemy, and you could have been friends under different circumstances. Elongated Scout represented the fact that war is kill or be killed, and sometimes you have to trade an enemy’s life for your own. Even if you really don’t want to. Everything was warped and staticky when the Elongated Scout was alive and chasing Soldier, and went clear again the second he was gone.

He also died twice to head wounds. The other soldier in American uniform had empty bleeding eye sockets. Soldier might have shot the German in both of his eyes during the war, and now he can’t forget the man’s face. Because at the end of the day, that guy was still a person, and they might have even gotten along if they’d been on the same side. [An actual story from a WWII veteran along the same lines of what I think Em Blue Soldier is dealing with]

#3: Russian Red Army

Stalingrad coming back over and over, scarier and colder each time could be the manifestation of Soldier’s feelings about Russians. In WWII, they were allies and in the Cold War both countries were using bloody proxy wars to try and avoid the nuclear option. But the Red army was brutal, and Soldier would know that from his time on the warfront.

The Germans tried to push their way into Russia to conquer it, committing unspeakable crimes on the way. The Red army pushed back and committed revenge crimes on their way to take Berlin. You can see why an American would be scared of what Russians are capable of.

That’s why by the end of the movie, Stalingrad is burnt and still trying to get revenge on Soldier. RED Heavy is anti-communist, but we have no idea what BLU Heavy believes. If he is a pro-Russia Communist, it would explain why Spy and Soldier planted him as a traitor in the early scenes of Emesis.

I think Soldier knowing firsthand how the Russian troops act would explain why he distrusts them while still questioning America’s honor. He got to see more of them because they weren’t shooting at each other during his war, unlike the German soldiers he had to kill. I think he also knows why America was the country that German POWs wanted to be sent to, and Russia was the absolute worst option for them.

#tf2 #emesis blue #character analysis #sad lad hours #Historical context #Heavy angst #angst #emesis blue soldier #Youtube

[evanthenerd83]

“Ceasing Begins”

The Ceasing began elsewhere. This was perfect, as it prevented many from spotting the signs. A majority of news media and medical experts had moved into the City, where there were more potential clients.

And it was perfect how the earliest cases started in isolated communities; farming villages, river settlements, places of low population. Nobody paid any attention to uneducated country bumpkins who cried out miracles. Why would they print warnings if some religious sheep had been the one to spout it?

Stories were shared amongst bar mates and congregations. People had suffered injuries from car crashes, falling down staircases, being shot, stabbed, poisoned, the whole cabal. They found themselves facing their own mortality.

Yet they would always survive. Even when their heads were punched clean through, hearts popped, brains caved in. It didn’t matter how far their flesh had been mangled. They could have been bled dry.

But they would live.

Medical experts in such places related these developments to their comrades. They sought reconcilement or refutation, a way to resolve this error. All they got was ignorance born from privileged knowledge.

They were ignored. Some pressed the issue, demanded that the professors and biologists came and witness this phenomenon. A majority of these would receive brief notices from the higher circles of academia. Credentials were revoked. Positions became vacant.

Evidence was suppressed by powers whose concern laid in maintaining their respectability.

Then the Ceasing came to the City. Slowly at first, with a cautious step here and a reluctant step there. Calls to emergency numbers dropped a staggering ninety-nine percent within the month of November. Politicians easily turned a blind eye towards the phenomenon. Public concern was taken hold by other matters, which were much more believable than the death of Death.

And the news media, ever the puppet of the City, aided in obscuring the problem. Hosts smiling and unblinking would nod along with pre-selected “experts” during interviews. Questions had been approved beforehand, as had the answers.

The threat was minimized within a single breath. Recent developments were repeated, including rising prices, eminent invasion by neighbors, crime rates skyrocketing across the entire nation. It did not matter if victims of those same crimes were still in the hospital; alive yet not alive, dead yet still screaming in agony.

Agony is a generous term to describe what they experienced. There are no names for those affected by the Ceasing, for they defy classification. Many may eagerly ascribe to them the moniker of zombies.

But they do not shamble, like the living dead. And due to their eternal state of pain, they do not hunger for human flesh, or anything. One could destroy their brains, if their brains are still intact, and this will not end their continued animation. Nothing on God's green earth could provide them with relief.

Shadows congratulated themselves behind closed doors, money exchanging hands. The truth was once again buried. No-one cared that hospitals were overflowing with patients whose conditions would never improve. That nurses and doctors—those on the ground floor, in the trenches—were constantly fighting against their own bodily limitations, battling fatigue and frustration. Why would they?

The Ceasing itself would not cease. Cosmic irony.

Months went by. Then years. Lives went on. Agony went on.

We are currently in our fifth year.

Our fifth year.

Want More? 👇🏻

#evanthenerd83's storytime #surreal horror #november 2022 #microfiction #creative writing #original writing #creepy stories

[the-broken-truth]

I loved what you did with the Donna ask. Could I request a part 2 where Donna's son starts interacting with the other lords and Angie? Maybe include Donna getting more possessive if her son since he's finally back on his feet and other people and taking him away from her, not used to him being away from the house?

Broken Truth: Well, she did make sure her son was strong now she has to protect him from her greedy family! Let the words weave together and see what Donna shall do to keep her son!

[Beneviento Estate]

"Which do you think is better, Angie? The Blue One or The Black One?" [Y/N] asked the doll as he put both the ribbons up to the collar of his dress shirt. He had a mirror to his left but he couldn't make the choice himself and asked the Wedding Dressed Doll that sat on his dresser this question.

"Why does it matter? You look good in both of them." Angie said.

"Thanks for the compliment, Angie, but I want this to be perfect. Mother gave me her father's Beneviento Tie Brooch and I want to look as sophisticated as he did." [Y/N] said with a smile at the thought of himself being honor to the Benevienot Name.

"Alright...Um...The Black One." Angie said.

With a smile, The Young Master looked at the black ribbon as he placed the blue ribbon back on his dresser and grabbed the Beneviento Insignia Tie Brooch from the dresser, and weaved the black ribbon in the back before bringing the dangling brooch to his shirt - the wings of his collar upward - and tied the brooch around his neck before lowering the wings. He reached and got his House Jacket off the vest of the coatrack in his room and wore it. He looked at himself in the mirror with a smile - he was distracted with his appearance that he didn't hear the door open until his mother spoke to him.

"You look like a truth Beneviento, [Y/N]." He looked at his mother who smiled at him as Angie ran over to her mother.

"Thank you, Mom. Are you ready to go?" The son asked as he walked over to his mother.

"Yes. I'm unsure why Mother Miranda wanted to have dinner at Alcina's Castle but...as her daughter and servant, I must listen to what she says." Donna looked to the ground, she was not looking forward to this dinner.

Mother Miranda said this dinner was going to be about integrating [Y/N] as the Offical Heir of House Beneviento and Future Lord of the Village should anything happen to Donna. Donna made sure Miranda knew about this arrangement when [Y/N] was born but she never took interest in him while he was sick but now that he was better...now that he could move around on his own...

Donna didn't like it.

She saw the way her siblings looked at her son - he was no longer the weakling that couldn't do anything for himself. He was grand. He was powerful. And most importantly, he was hers.

He was her son.

Her pride and joy.

And the fact that other people were taking interest in him now that he was better...it angered the Lady of Beneviento. But Donna was a woman of calming mist, not raging fires - that was Heisenberg's Department; however, she was a mother and she would not let anyone take her son from. She just...had to be careful of what she said and how she did things.

The Mother and Son got their coats - [Y/N] actually wore his grandfather's long trench coat that bore the Beneviento Crest over his chest, it was a perfect fit for the future Lord Beneviento. The two of them walked out of the house with Angie riding on [Y/N]'s shoulder and they headed to Castle Dimitrescu.

[Upon Arrival To Dimitrescu Castle]

"Ah, Donna. I was wondering when you would arrive." Alcina said as she met her 2 new guests at the door. She looked at the tall male beside her sister and smiled. "And this must be Little [Y/N]; he doesn't seem so little to me anymore."

"Greetings, Lady Dimitrescu." He said in a respectful bow but Alcina just laughed and waved her hand in dismissal.

"No need for formalities, my boy; we're family. You can call me 'Aunt Alcina'." She smiled - Donna didn't like that same.

"Um...Okay, Aunt Alcina." He smiled nervously - he never really interacted with the other lords so he wasn't sure what to call them.

"Well, come, My Little Nephew!" Alcina placed her hand on his shoulder and led him away from Donna, "Your Cousins, Uncles, and Grandmother are waiting to get to know you." Alcina said - leaving Donna there...NOT!

Donna marched over to her son and grabbed his hand and pulled him away from Alcina, who looked at her with confused eyes.

"He is my son, Alcina; I can bring him to the dining hall myself." Donna said as she pulled her son along to the dining hall where the other Lords, Alcina's Daughters, and Mother Miranda were waiting for them.

[Y/N] and Donna walked over to their chairs but the son pulled out his mother's chair before he pushed her in and took a seat himself.

"A Gentleman. We don't see much of that anymore." Alcina said as she took her seat.

"I raised my son well, Alcina." Donna said.

"And I'm grateful for having her as my mother." [Y/N] smiled at his mother.

The maids came out with dinner and everyone ate in silence.

[After Dinner]

"Now, unto the matter we are here for." Miranda said as she wiped her mouth of wine. "Donna, why haven't you given any reports on how the Cadou has affected [Y/N]?" She asked.

"What would be the need to do that, Mother Miranda? [Y/N] isn't an experiment, he's my son." Donna said.

"While that may be the case - anything relating to the Cadou must be run by me." Miranda said as she looked at her daughter who just stared at her.

"Mother, I gave you the information of the Cadou I used in [Y/N] but that wasn't the thing that healed him - it was medicine from a recipe I happened to come across." Donna said.

"It doesn't matter if the medicine made him better - I want to know how the Cadou affected him but you didn't tell me in your notes." Miranda said.

"It shouldn't matter since my son is not an experiment, Mother. I don't feel comfortable talking this, Mother." Donna said as she rose from her seat and her son followed her as she left the castle with her son in tow. There were many displeased faces at the dinner table.

[A Few Days Later]

The phone rang and [Y/N] roses from his seat where he was with his mother and answered the phone.

"Beneviento Residence." He said.

"Aunt Alcina?" He questioned; that made Donna look up from her tea and look at her son - why was Alcina calling them?

"No, I don't have anything to do at the moment; I was drinking tea with mother." He said.

"You want me to come over to tea? I'll ask mother to see..." He stopped for a moment, "You want me to come alone?"

'What?!' Donna questioned in her mind.

"Um...Okay. I'll be there in a moment." He hung up the phone after a moment and looked at his mother, "Um...Aunt Alcina invited me for tea with her and her daughters. I'll be back in an hour, Mom." He said as he walked out the door after putting on his coat.

"What was that about?" Angie asked as she jumped on the table.

"Alcina invited him for tea." Donna said with displeasure on her face.

"Don't worry, Donna; he can take care of himself." Angie said.

"I know he can...it's just...I'm used to him not being home; he's been here for years and now that he's better and moving around...I just have this strange feeling that someone might try something." Donna said as she looked at her tea.

[Timeskip]

The next few weeks weren't any better - every one of the lords called Beneviento Manor for [Y/N] asking him to spend time with them or spending nights at their places. Alcina had Heisenberg even set up rooms at their places for him when he came over. Whenever there was a lord meeting, the other lords would ask Mother Miranda if [Y/N] could attend but Donna would say no - her son would be at home doing what he wanted without the lords bothering him.

"We don't bother him, he loves hanging out with us; more than you, Donna." Karl would say.

Today - it was a Lord Meeting and Donna was ordered to come. [Y/N] said he was going to rearrange and plant some new flowers in the garden - the flower girl gave him some new seeds and a discount, Donna was sure she was flirting with her son.

Donna arrived at the meeting and took her seat and it was...quiet.

Karl and Alcina would usually argue about something but they were quiet at the moment. Everyone waited for Mother Miranda to speak.

"Now - the purpose of this meeting isn't about the village or even the ceremony." She started.

"Then what is it about?" Donna asked.

"It's about [Y/N], Donna Dear." Alcina said with a smile across her red-painted lips.

"What about him?" She asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Listen, we get he's your kid and all but he needs something more so we think it's best if he came to live with one of us for now on." Karl said.

Donna...was...pissed.

"What did you just say?" Donna hissed.

"Listen, Donna - you did a perfect job raising him but I think it would be best if [Y/N] came to live with me at the castle. The girls love him and see him as a brother; they are always wanting him to move over and him living there would be better for him and my girls." Alcina said.

"Like hell you'll get him, Lady Super-Sized Bitch. The kid is a boy and we men need to stick together. He's a fast learner and I need that in my factory. I'll be a better father for him." Karl said.

"NEITHER ONE OF YOU ARE GETTING HIM!" Donna yelled as she rose from her seat with a glare.

"Donna, calm yourself." Mother Miranda tried to say but was cut off.

"NO! YOU DON'T SAY ANYTHING, MOTHER!" She looked at her Sister and Brother, "LET ME TELL YOU TWO SOMETHING: HE IS MY SON! YOU HEAR ME?! MINE! I RAISED HIM! I WAS THERE FOR HIM WHILE HE WAS FIGHTING FOR HIS LIFE! ALCINA, YOU WILL NEVER BE HIS MOTHER AND HE WILL NEVER BE THE GIRLS' BROTHER! KARL, YOU WILL NEVER BE HIS FATHER; HE HAD A FATHER AND HIS FATHER DIED! I DON'T GIVE A DAMN HOW MUCH YOU THINK HE SHOULD BE WITH YOU; IT'S NEVER GONNA HAPPEN! HE'S MY SON AND YOU ALL CAN FUCK OFF!" Donna roared.

Everyone was silent.

You could hear a cotton ball drop.

Donna rose from her chair and walked out the door and went back home to her son.

HER SON.

She was quiet about her son visiting them but the moment they fixed their lips about taking him away from her...they are on Donna Beneviento's Shit List.

#donna beneviento #alcina dimitrescu #karl heisenberg #mother miranda #resident evil 8

[falcor-thee-luck-dragon]

Love Cuts Deep

Chapter 2- Together We Stay

Bucky Barnes x (f)reader Series Rewrite (Civil War, Infinity War/Endgame, TFATWS) 

Summary: After learning that you’re on a national watchlist from the exposure of Hydra, and seeking the only other person who’s lived a life like you have. Now you and Bucky adjust to being around one another in Romania.

Warning: big fluff, SMUT, more fluff i promised

Masterlist

5 weeks.

That’s how long it’s been since you’ve been allowed to stay with Bucky in his little one bedroom apartment in Bucharest, Romania. Fortunately for you, he’s kind enough to let you take the shit excuse for a bed while he claims the hardwood floor on the opposite side of the room, just about every single night. That’s just how its been, through true at it is, either one of you could handle sleeping on stone, but this bed is admittedly nicer, and you’ve got someplace to stay for the time being.

And Bucky.

He’s a quiet type for sure, keeps to himself, only really speaks when spoken to or when asking if you want something from the marketplace. But you’ve begun to witness first hand how he’s kind, funny in his own right, and respectful of your space and body within the time that you’ve had the chance to really know him. Which is more then most could say while you’ve been on the run in the past, from authorities and the Winter Soldier alike. 

Most days the two of you wander the various streets of this large pleasant bustling city, watching for any signs of danger or an odd person out of place as you go about your day. Other times the two of you would go hiking to the outskirts of Bucharest where no one could be of a bother, there, the two of you would spar each other for hours. Gotta keep alert, he’d always say. 

When he did speak.

But the nights when the city was sleepy with brightly beaming stars blanketing overhead, now those became your absolute favorite. You and your new found companion would spend those hours playing cards against one another, lasting deep into the wee hours of the morning when the sun was just barely rising into the sky.

Although as of late, Bucky has begun to speak more and more to you, even just yesterday when you shit talked some cheap vendor who was being very persistent as he wanted you to buy his ugly scarves, Bucky cracked a smile. Maybe even stifled a laugh. If you weren’t so invested in messing with the annoying little man, you would have seen the way Bucky’s eyes trailed adoringly over your mischievous face.

Maybe you would have seen how the corners of his eyes crinkled with amusement as you flipped the guy off and practically swaggered away like the coolest person he’s ever met. Too bad you didn’t, but you would have loved to have seen it. Even for just a moment.

That’s what it’s been like recently between the two of you, small fleeting glances here and there, friendly nudges when you’re walking out in the park, and more time spent laying side by side with one another after an excessively intense workout session. Granted you’re sprawled out in the dirt and grass, sweaty and appearing like you just ran through a dust storm, but next to Bucky, things feel pleasantly different.

It’s strange, you can’t remember the last time you’ve actually felt comfortable around anyone since your mother, but that was a very long time ago. And she’s dead, and you’re not.

Unlocking the apartment door, you quickly turn the faded golden knob and walk into the dull sunlit room. The windows are covered in thin faded newspapers for the dying sunlight to struggle through, as this appears to be the only real source of efficient lightning since all lights are currently turned off. Though you can see well enough due to your body’s enhanced vision, small perks of the serums mutation that made you.

It’s almost 7pm on this cool breezy evening as you walk into Bucky’s apartment, shutting the door just as swiftly; letting your black cotton trench coat slip gracefully from off of your shoulders, you kick your boots off next before walking over to the kitchen and setting the coat on the back of the old wooden chair.

A tired sigh escapes from your parted lips as a sudden smirk begins to break out upon your sleepy face, “James.” You muse with a genuine smile as you turn to face your mattress for a bed, and the man sitting on it, “Nice to be greeted when I come back.”

He hands you an apologetic look before swiftly rising to his feet, “Just making sure you’re paying attention.” He quips with the flash of a grin, “You passed.”

“Alright smartass I brought you a sub from that little coffee place.” His cheeks dust pink as you hand him the sandwich from out of your bag, God he loves your accent, Bucky hands you a pursed lipped grin as you wink, “Just how you like it, old wet lettuce, a chunk of rat, and a moldy bun. Your favorite.”

He lets out a breathy snort as you practically swagger over to the fridge, opening it up to grab two beers before finding yourself a chair right across from him. “Here.” He quickly accepts your thoughtfully brewed offer of friendship, “Drink up Barnes it’s a new day tomorrow and we’re still kicking.”

He watches as you laugh before popping open the glass and taking a hearty chug, a small yet joyous grin pulling at the corner of your lips after you set it down again.

“To another day.” States Bucky before doing just the same.

Soon enough the two of you find yourselves seated comfortably on opposite sides of the old mattress with cards in each of your hands. A solid look of determination and fake suspicion on either of your faces as you stare each other down.

“Got any fives?” Asks Bucky with a raised brow as you simply roll your eyes, then biting your lip while you watch as he tucks a stray tuff of dark hair behind his ear.

“Fuck you.” Slips from your mouth as he bursts with the sweet sounds of laughter, his cards fall from his hands as you throw yours at his stupidly attractive yet winning face. Dammit you could have won.

“I can’t help that you’re a sore loser Y/N, I’m just that good.” Brags Bucky as you throw him a deadly glare.

“Whatever. It’s nearly 4am I’m off my game tonight.” You retort, shrugging as a yawn approaches right on cue.

Bucky glances at the wall clock before looking back at you, an tinge of disappointment lacing his soft voice, “Right. I’ll just head over to my spot then...”

Rolling your eyes yet again, you gently slap his folded thigh before he can attempt at leaving, “Awh come on Buck, you’re back has got to be shit by now. Let me sleep there tonight okay, it’s only fair.”

“Y/N I’m fine, seriously.” Admits Bucky kindly as he shows the flash of a smile, “Don’t worry about me. I’m good.”

Your teeth press firmly against your bottom lip as you think of how to thwart his stubborn mind, soon you look down to pick up some cards, “No, we gotta take turns. And don’t say “I’m good” because if you go over there I will have no choice but to fight you.” Words wrapped in sarcasm, you lay it on him, yet your face appears to flash with something different. 

“Fight me? You’d fight me for the shitty hard wooden floor?” Asks Bucky in bewilderment as you simply nod, agreeing to your last stated truth.

“See! You even admit it’s shitty.” You exclaim with a humored laugh while shaking the cards in his beautiful face. Y/N don’t you dare think about it, stop flirting idiot.

“Well...yeah.” Mutters Bucky as you both suddenly sit in an awkward silence, nothing heard except for the wind as it rattles against the old windowpane. You both are breathing a tad more heavily from the teasing argument a couple seconds ago, but now, some unseen yet intrusively felt emotion shifts the air. Is this what you think it is, or does your underlying feelings for him just like fucking with your better intuition.

Something is afoot, however your mind still doubts it. God he can be so hard to read sometimes.

Bucky’s blue irises flicker from you, to the floor-like-bed across the room and then back to you again, conflict clear in the way that his face shifts apprehensively, suddenly he moves to stand, “Wait.” You command with urgency, causing the man to stop dead in his tracks, curious eyes on you in a second.

Letting out a nervous breath, you decide to make sure he gets some proper rest for once, “Just sleep on the goddamn bed.” You deadpan as his face keeps unusually stoic, his body as still as a statue before without so much as a warning does he swiftly lean over and immediately crash his lips to yours.

Within seconds the cards are left for tomorrows cleanup as they flutter to the hard ground, completely forgotten as he presses a metal hand onto the bed for some stability while his lips move sweetly against your own, his flesh one positioned comfortably against your left jaw and partial cheek.

The shock you feel quickly gets shoved to the back of your mind as your hands immediately begin there exploration as they sift through his long dark hair. He tastes impeccably more delicious then you could have ever even imagined, not that you fantasized about tasting the Winter Soldier or anything, though maybe it popped into your mind as a harmless curiosity. Now however, you’re pleasantly satisfied to find out by the way his soft plush lips dance across your own; it’s enough to send your heart fluttering into a thousand excited butterflies, more like an avalanche for Bucky.

All too soon does be abruptly pull away to seat himself next to you while you begrudgingly retract your hands from exploring him further. His eyes quickly find the floor in embarrassment as you smile adoringly at him, “Sorry that was...”

“Fucking hot?” You muse as his flustered face immediately snaps over to yours, hope clear in his shimmering gaze and a tad bit of puzzlement. Guess he didn’t expect his little move of bravery to produce such an apparent positive reaction.

“Uh, well...that’s uh, good..” He mumbles while rubbing the back of his neck, eyeing shifting across the bare mattress before they slowly glance up to find yours once more. This time he hands you a shy nervous smile,”...can I kiss you again?” Wonders Bucky with the sweetest puppy dog eyes you have ever seen in your entire life.

Smirking mischievously, you gently caress the side of his cheek while he happily leans into it, “Bucky Barnes....you can do a lot more then just kiss me.” And with that said does your sweet man press his lips against yours, admittedly more hungry then the first.

He kisses you with such vigor and passion this time, becoming more bolder by the second as he gently tugs at the bottom of your shirt. Smiling against him, you quickly break from his charm to give him your approval, “Shirt comes off if yours does first.” You tease as he plants a chaste kiss to your cheek, then jaw.

Rolling his eyes while continuing to plant love marks around your neck, you take that as a positive sign to reach over and hastily remove his top, he then wastes no time in carefully slipping yours off as well, taking a second longer to unclasp your bra and fling it to the side. Problems for finding later. After the introductions are had, you both immediately take a long heavy moment to trail your eyes over every curve and blemish of each other’s body. You’ve never done this with him before, never even witnessed him without a shirt on, God is he ever more divine then you could have ever even imagined.

Trailing your eyes over ever muscle and crevice in the dull shadowed lighting of the room, your heart begins to sink with sadness and anger while you study the scarring on his left shoulder, the area between where metal meets flesh. Bucky watches as you frown before he takes your left hand in his, eyes softening while he holds it gently, “They hurt you like they hurt me.” He whispers.

Your eyes quickly flicker over to see his shadowed face, and the dark hair that frames it so perfectly, “They hurt everyone.” You whisper back as he brings your wrist up to his mouth, a second later be places the softest of kisses against your weathered skin, right where your tattoo is. The one you’ve had since you were eleven, the one Hydra gave you.

“Did they do this too?” He wonders, already knowing your answer as you slowly nod in silent reply; the black inked marking shows 00X13 as it sits horizontally against your wrist from where those bastards essentially branded you.

Frowning deeply at the black ink on your wrist, you take a slow breath as Bucky watches your every move, “I’ve tried to cut it off of me a couple times long ago.....but they did this to me before the second serum altered my body so that I could heal faster. I guess my body registers it as part of the skin now, but I’ve grown to live with it. It’s a reminder of my past and survival, I cannot stay angry with the dead forever.” You mutter thoughtfully, referencing to the former doctors and scientists who did this to you, understanding that those people are all dead now or incredibly old.

Bucky bows his head, dark hair tickling your hand and wrist as he holds it close to his stubbled face, brows furrowing you wonder what internal turmoil he may be processing, soon he rises his stormy ocean of blue to find your gaze, “I hate them. All of them.” He grumbles lowly, the icy dark storm clouding over in hidden rage that flashes within his eyes.

Not wanting to darken the blessed moment a second more, you push a piece of hair out of his eyes before placing a gentle kiss against his lips, pulling away he slightly follows, “It doesn’t matter now. We’re two lonely souls together in this fucked up world and I want you to make love to me.” A small grin replaces the once bitter frown as he leans in closer.

“Then I will.” Answers Bucky, his voice as soft and velvety as the most precious flowers, he soon moves forward to gently push you on to your back, stealing another kiss along the way while he hovers over your heated body.

His form is much broader then your own as he pins your vessel to the bed, hands drag lazily through his increasingly messy hair as you slowly part your legs for him to rest his clothed nether regions against your own equally as kept queen jewels. Now he lays flush against your clothed bodies, fitting perfectly like two golden pieces of a Kings prized puzzle.

The growing friction of his hardening member against your sensitive nerves is enough to make you growl in frustration from lack of satisfying contact. Tugging his head back from your lips, you smirk as he pouts, “I’m enjoying this Buck, I really am, but our pants gotta go.” He promptly breaks out into a knowing grin.

“I was thinking the exact same thing.” Muses Bucky in agreement as he leans back to give you some space for safely kicking off your pants and undies as he fumbles with his own from the spot next to your left. Naked and shining in all your magnificent glory, you watch in amusement as he struggles to shove down his jeans before a small giggle escapes your lips when he frustratingly throws them across the floor.

Knees guarding your hidden treasure below, you smirk while resting your arms against the bed, eyes flashing in entertained contentment as they glance up at him, “I’m not going anywhere, Buck.” You quip as he shakes his head in embarrassment.

“Yeah. Well...” He’s quickly interrupted as you pull him back down against your naked form, “oh, hi.” Whispers Bucky as his face keeps mere inches from your own, pieces of black hair tickling the sides of your face.

“Hi.” You mutter back with a shy smile before raising a brow and glancing downward for a brief moment, “Care to take those off?” You ask in referral to his underwear that’s still keeping it all in, his poor manhood that looks just about ready to rip through his boxers any second now.

Glancing down as well, he quickly smiles as a dust of pink coats his stubbled cheeks, “oh, right......just a moment.” His body leaves yours once again to kneel on the mattress as he almost trips out of them, you stare on in anticipated excitement as he swiftly pulls down his undies to reveal a very hard member indeed. He was packing this whole time!

Cheeks flushing pink once more, he gives you a shy nervous grin before placing his hands on either side of your closed legs. With pleading eyes of dashing cobalt, they flash a stormy sky of hunger and lust. Bucky draws his lips closer to your knee before suddenly placing a gentle kiss against your naked skin. “Is this okay?” He asks cautiously incase you might have changed your mind about everything, still completely uncertain if this is all some cruel dream and he’s about to wake up at any moment.

Parting your legs on your own accord, you smile fondly at him, “Of course. Now come here.” You beckon with a confident nod of your head, openly inviting him to join you now in the most intimate of ways.

Heeding to your pleasing command, the super soldier hovers over your naked body once again as you part your legs even wider for his wanting hardness that just barley brushes past your inner upper thigh, so close to your entrance. You could just about melt into a puddle of goo.

Your breaths are more heavy now as you both anticipate the sweet moment to come; both flesh and metal arm fall to either side of your face as his lips ghost over yours, breath hot against your smiling face, “I haven’t done this in awhile, I’ll admit. Sorry if I don’t do grea...”

Kissing him roughly, you shut him up real quick, “It’s fine. No judgment here, I promise.” You add honestly with another sweet kiss as you feel downward for his hardened cock, finding it rather quickly he hums in surprised delight as you grasp it before leading him to your slick entrance.

Once close enough to get there on his own will, do you smirk up at him with a face more valuable then all the diamonds in the whole entire world; your hands grasp either side of his biceps, as he studies your nodding face, “I’m ready.” And with that does his tip touch your fiery skin, slowly he pushes into you with a pleasurable groan escaping from his parted lips. 

Immediately do you gasp in surprise at his fullness graciously stretching your walls, “Did I hurt you?!” Worries your new lover as you wrap your legs around his hips before sending him a confident wink and a kiss for good measure.

“Nothing can hurt me.” You confirm with another heated kiss to his lips, soon you begin grinding into him the best you can manage as he starts moving pleasantly against your core. His strong hips pushing you back into the mattress in the absolutely best way possible.

Bucky soon finds an effective pace and with that begins thrusting into you harder now as he gains more and more confidence with your wanting body of pure flame and desire; only the delicious sounds of skin on skin contact making itself present in the tiny apartment, besides your labored breaths of intense love making.

Your mind is nothing but foggy mush as he pushes himself deeper and deeper into your slick entrance with each beautifully graceful stroke of his godlike hips. Soft moans and muffled grunts continue to leave his throat as he pumps in and out of you over and over again. Ugh, you could just about die happy.

Causing you to whimper in pleasure as the tiny growing coil inside you gets tighter and tighter with every new thrust to your center walls. His hard cock twitches against your sensitive nerves as his own orgasm begins reaching its inevitable climax, he’s so fucking close.

With a couple more powerful thrusts does he finally succumb to your glorious body and cum hard inside you, his voice gravely and deeply enthralling as he moans in pleasure of the golden release. Feeling his member twitch angrily from within is enough to send you over the edge with ecstasy, causing your walls to clench instinctively against his dexterously slick cock. Fuck he feels good.

More whimpers and moans fall helplessly off of your tongue as your fingers trail pink fiery lines across his glowing skin, he’s without a doubt just as sweaty as you are by this point, and all the more beautiful.

Kissing your lips hungrily, Bucky pounds relentlessly harder into you now as the two of you silently decide to continue on for a swiftly approaching round two. In no time he has the both of you cumming even harder and messier then the first, with moans and groans of plenty reverberating off the aged old walls of his tiny apartment.

Leaving your body a shaking and sweaty mess as he thrusts a couple last pumps into you for good measure, pink swollen lips not once leaving yours until at long last does he gently pull out for the first time in what seems like hours. Though you definitely weren’t complaining, both of you have a plethora of stamina to spare, though you did wear him out.

Falling into an exhausted heap of Bucky next to you on the messy bed, his chest quickly rises and falls with heavy breaths as your does the same. For a few long moments do the two of you keep silent, just the sounds of your heavy breathing the only thing of any significance in the darkly room lit room.

After giving yourself a couple minutes to cool down, Bucky blissfully chuckles, causing you to turn your head towards his beaming face as he stares up at the ceiling, “Something funny Barnes?” You muse in that gloriously prominent accent of yours that drives him wild. He turns his sweat covered head over to you, pieces of long hair sticking to the sides of his handsomely beaming face.

“Are we dead? This feels like a dream and I’m going to wake up alone any second now.” Mutters Bucky, eyes blinking in hopes this is real and true as life itself.

Laughing, you move from your back to lay flush against his left side while watching your every move, kissing his chest you hum, “Well, you’d have a real mess in the morning.”

Bucky immediately scrunches his nose up in slight disgust as you sling an arm over his bare chest, “Thank you for that image Y/N.” He retorts with a short burst of air leaving from his nostrils, indicating he did indeed find it rather amusing.

Kissing his cheek you shrug, “It’s not like your load isn’t still....in places, it’s sex Buck. It’s messy and beautiful and I’m glad I could do this with you. Seriously, I thought we’d never get here.”

Bucky’s face appears rather thoughtful for a long moment before he finally speaks, “I didn’t think you liked me like that.”

“What!?” You exclaim in bewilderment, causing him to snicker as you continue with your explanation, “Was I not obvious enough with the stolen glances and whatever else I could get away with? I was trying actually if you wanted to know....in my own way, but still.”

“I did try to kill you once.” Confirms Bucky as you lay comfortably against his metal arm, head resting on his upper chest while his eyes flicker back up to the ceiling.

Scoffing, you flick a piece of his hair, “I didn’t take it personally.”

Thinking for a moment, he finally looks down at you, “I’m glad you didn’t. And I’m glad that you found me.” Whispers your lover as he reveals the most dashing smile you’ve ever seen, while his flesh arm gently caresses down your shoulder in a blissfully comforting manner.

“Me too.” You add, pressing another soft kiss to his lips as you trail a finger down his side, “Now let’s take a shower......and probably change the sheets.”

“We don’t have sheets.”

——

An annoying ray of golden sunlight shines brightly in your closed eyelids from a small tear in the middle of the window newspaper, as your senses slowly come back to the world. You squint before taking a deep breath and shifting your gaze to make a full circle of the room, since you do happen to be facing away from the wall.

Your eyes trail over to Bucky’s usual spot only to reveal absolutely nothing, your heart suddenly jumps in your chest as the pleasurable memories of last night come flooding into your head once again, and some of the leftover smells, you can thank those fucking scientist for that. 

That’s right, you think, you slept with Bucky, and he’s literally snoozing away right behind you.

Smiling into the morning sun, you quietly sit up before turning your head to look down at Bucky, his hair is an absolute adorable mess as it lays across his face in various dark strands. He’s currently shirtless with the exception of some sweatpants and the thin blanket he owns that’s positioned across his torso.

You’re clothed as well, deciding it best to be dressed and comfy after the heated shower session you two shared; oh to be back in that moment for another minute longer, how nice that would be.

Slipping away from your daydreaming of Bucky, your heart skips a beat as he stirs, soon enough does his beautiful blues open up to the world. Finding your adoring gaze, he rests a hand on your folded leg, “Mornin’ Y/N.” Mutters Bucky in that raspy early morning voice of his, the actual greeting sounding more like a toddler learning to speak for the fist time then anything truly coherent. Or like a drunken man.

Rubbing a hand through his dark locks, you smile lovingly down at his stubbly morning face as he closes his eyes yet again, showing pure bliss while your fingers run through his scalp. “Touch starved much?” You quip as he opens his eyes and yawns like that of a sleepy old bear, metal arm flashing a quick stray beam of light when he shifts.

“Maybe.” Teases Bucky as he silently beckons for you to lay down with him, heeding to this hopeful inquisition, you scoot yourself onto your side and graciously welcome as his flesh arm reaches over your torso to pull you in closer.

Noses mere inches from one another, you raise a brow as he stares lovingly into your eyes, “Cozy?”

Gently kissing your lips in reply, he pulls back to reveal a positive lazy grin, “I think so.” Jests Bucky as he pushes you onto your back so that he can sling an arm over your rib cage, essentially pinning you to the bed with no real intention of letting you go any time soon.

The both of you stay like that for a good couple of minutes, just enjoying each other’s company in the late morning sun before he finally decides to speak, “Was last night....uh, good?” Wonders Bucky in nervous apprehension as his head rests comfortably against yours.

Giving him a light peck, you grin, “The best I’ve ever had.” And you mean every single word.

He gently squeezes your side in reply before muttering, “You were great too.”

Lightly chuckling, your eyes squint as you smile brightly at him, “Well that’s good to know. Glad I hadn’t lost my incredible seduction skills.”

“Yeah, I was thoroughly seduced.” Quips Bucky as you snicker.

-

Tagged: @minigranger @bibliophilewednesday @holyhumorliteraturelight @diegos-butt​

#bucky barnes series #the winter soldier x y/n #the winter soldier x reader #the winter soldier x you #the winter soldier #Bucky Barnes #tfatws x reader #Bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n

[avengers-age-of-fanfics]

just for you, honeybee (5/?)

pairing: steve rogers x reader (platonic), bucky barnes x reader

warnings: grief, sadness, CA:TFA

words: 2,074

authors note: I am so sorry for posting this late, been a crazy few days! anywho, part 5! slowly working our way into The Avengers & The Winter Soldier. not sure how i'll write the avengers yet but i'll figure something out! thank u for being patient!

Your whole body felt so heavy.

Everything hurt and even with your soft breathing, it was as if all the muscles in your body were screaming at you to stop. Sounds of people cheering were heard but you tried to tune it out, your brain barely able to comprehend why your body hurt so much.

After telling yourself to try to at least open your eyes, you did, and it was so bright. Your eyes fluttered closed once more as you groaned at the light, trying to adjust. Listening to the sound once more, you heard a specific tune – Harry James’ Maria Elena – play on a radio.

You groaned, opening your eyes again as the song continued, hearing Harry’s voice, “Maria Elena, you’re the answer to a prayer…”

God, James loved this song.

Becoming used to the light, you tensed your toes, your legs, your arms, all the way up to your teeth, then untensing. It felt weird, being alive. Wait…were you alive? Maybe?

Before you decided to lay in your cot any longer, you sat up, glancing at your clothes – a plain, white t-shirt with an Eagle in the middle, along with some nice fitting tan pants and some shoes. ‘Odd,’ you thought to yourself, ‘definitely don’t remember changing clothes.’

The room you laid in was relatively plain, nothing was out of the ordinary as Maria Elena continued to play on repeat. “Okay,” you said aloud, “that’s a bit weird.”

With a grumble, you placed your feet on the ground as you held your head in your hands, “ugh, Steve, where the hell are you? ‘Could really use one of Howard’s hangover cures.”

Before you could talk any more nonsense to yourself, the door opened, revealing a beautiful young woman dressed in a nurse’s outfit, “good morning.” She took a quick glance at her watch, “or should I say afternoon.

You eyed her suspiciously as one of your favorite songs quickly grew to be very annoying, “where am I? Where is Steve?”

She seemed a bit nervous as she answered you, “you’re in a recovery room in New York City. Captain Rogers is right beside you, the next room over. He has been informed that you’ve woken up.”

Harry James’ “All or Nothing At All” came on the radio and you felt the urge to roll your eyes, “where am I really?”

The woman chuckled, “I’m afraid I don’t understand.”

Your eyes narrowed, “the songs. Listen, any person with a stable head on their shoulders loves Harry James, but there is no way in hell Blue Ribbon Town is playin’ his songs all the damn time. Now, where am I – and tell Steve I want him here.”

The ‘nurse’ – well, you didn’t know if you could call her that cause you seemingly caught her bluff – grew worried as you stood up, the bed creaking below you, “just tell me where I am and where Steve is and I’ll-“

You stilled for a moment, recognizing the sounds of two people arguing, and of course, Steve’s voice. He sounded agitated and on edge, but at least you knew he was safe. Now, you just wanted to get the hell out of here. The woman, nurse, whoever she was, grabbed a walkie-talkie and began talking into it, but you paid no mind to her.

The door opened behind her, revealing a man, you guessed an Agent, in a suit, “who the hell are you? I want to get out of this room.”

The man held out his hands, “Agent Y/N, my name is Phil Coulson, we work with S.H.I.E.L.D. There’s no need to stress, you are alright and safe.”

You squinted your eyes at him, “well, Agent Coulson, I’m sure you can tell why I am even remotely hesitant to trust you, so with all due respect, I’m breaking out of here.”

And with that, you sprinted towards the wall opposite you, ramming shoulder first and knocking it down, revealing bright lights and metal flooring – almost like they were keeping something on the inside.

An alarm sounded above you as you stopped in a hallway, people looking at your figure before gasping. “All agents, code 13” echoed above you as you dragged yourself along, unable to take a second and look. You cursed Steve for leaving you alone, for not hearing you fighting with that woman and Coulson guy. Shoving some men down onto the floor, you continued to run until you pushed open the doors, the outside becoming cold very quickly.

You spun in a circle, trying to take in everything around you as you ran into oncoming traffic, the sounds of horns blaring causing more confusion than anything. Running seemed to be the only thing you knew how to do, the rain drizzling down upon you, doing nothing to slow your speed. The more you ran, the more you realized how unfamiliar everything looked. Neon signs, tall buildings, cars you’ve never seen before – if that woman was telling the truth, when the hell did everything change?

You slowed to a stop, huge moving-picture signs changed above you and the unfamiliarity was daunting. You needed someone’s hand to grab, to hold onto something, so you reached towards your chest, holding tightly onto Bucky’s dog tags.

Black cars pulled in front of you and from behind you, a tall, sort-of menacing man stood before you, “at ease, Agent.”

Your eyebrows furrowed as Steve stepped out of the backseat of the car, looking uneasy; the man continued, hands at the side of his black trench coat and eyepatch adding more questions as to who this man was, “look, I’m sorry about that little show back there, but…we thought it best to break it to you slowly.”

Your grip on Bucky’s dog tags tightened as your breathing quickened, “Steve? Break what?”

The somewhat terrifying man took a breath, “you’ve been asleep, L/N. For almost 70 years – same with your friend Captain here.”

Your heart ached and it hurt to breathe all of a sudden. Tears welled up in your eyes as you tried to steady your breathing, looking around at everything around you. Steve stepped forward, hands quickly grabbing yours even as you tried to move away, “honeybee, I know it’s a lot to take in but you gotta breathe. You got this, you got this…”

You nodded, trying to listen as ringing took over your ears.

Steve turned, trying to catch his breath as the man in front of you looked to you both, “you going to be okay?”

Steve nodded, “she’ll be okay, she’s fine.

The man looked to you, “Miss L/N?”

You tried to steady your breathing, “I need…where is…”

The man held out his hands, “we’ll answer all of your questions, starting with who I am – my name is Director Nick Fury of S.H.I.E.L.D. We’ve been taking care of you both since your discovery and anything you need, you let us know. Now, can we get you situated?”

Steve continued to look confused as you glared at Fury, “how do I know I can trust you?”

Fury gestured to the world surrounding you, “you see anyone else trying to make friends, Miss L/N?”

You grumbled, “y/n is fine, really…Cap, what’s going on?”

Steve gripped your hands, “you can trust him, y/n, I promise. He’ll make sense of everything, he’s a good guy.”

With a glare, you looked towards the Director, “where…where would I be headed with you?”

Nick Fury leaned back on the balls of his feet, “Washington D.C, Triskelion, S.H.I.E.L.D, HQ, specifically.”

With a glance to Steve, you knew that broken look too well – a place to rest, to fully digest this news, would be nice. It seems he has somewhat fit in with this new world that you now have to adjust to. You turned to Fury, “I’ll go with you. But will I be staying there permanently?”

Fury shrugged, “you are in charge of your own life. Once we get you settled, you’re free to do what you wish.”

Steve nodded towards you as he recognized your hesitance – you can trust Nick Fury. You’ll be in charge of your own life once you become accustomed to this new world.

The trip to Washington D.C. was not too troublesome, but coming to terms with what era you were living in sure was. You and Steve were silent the entire ride, making sense of what had happened during your final mission. Once you arrived, Nick Fury had no qualms about telling you what had happened; you had completed the mission, saving millions of lives, and you had won the war.

But it just did not feel right.

You knew why; you shouldn’t be here. At this point, you and Bucky, your Jamie, should be in your late 80s, kids, and grandkids living their lives to the fullest. Yet here you were, living in an unknown world without your James, and the worst part – you had no idea if his body was recovered, if he had a funeral, if Becca had something for him.

That was what the first few months of your new life consisted of: doing research on these high-tech computers about Bucky, Rebecca, catching up on the history you missed out on. Unconsciously, you found yourself researching ‘Colonel Chester Phillips’ and found that your broody Colonel lived the rest of his life to the fullest, becoming one of the founders of S.H.I.E.L.D. – you just knew that man was meant for greatness. Next, ‘Howard Stark’ added to your search and your heart ached.

Howard, your Howie Stark, was murdered.

They had known it was murder, or some kind of setup, once the feds realized much of his equipment was stolen from his car. Howard and his beautiful wife Maria were murdered.

You cried that night.

The next day, you brought yourself to visit Colonel Phillips’ grave and laid a bouquet of flowers on his grave; you knew he’d call you ridiculous, that he didn’t need any flowers, but you did it anyway. Shockingly, Howard and Maria’s gravesite weren’t too far and you had laid flowers on their graves as well.

Steve hadn’t joined you.

You weren’t upset with him, no, just…you weren’t sure. You wished he came along, but he figured giving you space was what you needed when in reality, you needed him – you needed your Steve Rogers from Brooklyn. At least when you two went down, Peggy was still alive; your James wasn’t. A part of you hated Steve for that, but it also grieved with him.

Nothing more was done of your research on Jamie; you’d seen the same thing about him over and over, yet you knew all that was said. However, you loved seeing moving pictures of him and Steve, ones you hadn’t seen before that day. He was just as beautiful as the day he left you for war. His smile made your heart race and his nose scrunch, his eyes squinting during his smile…he was breathtaking.

Reaching below the collar of your shirt, you grasped the dog tags around your neck, thankful S.H.I.E.L.D. hadn’t taken them off. Laying a kiss on them, you let them go, hitting your chest before your fingers met the keyboard: “Grover, Newspaper vendor, Brooklyn.”

That man had continued selling newspapers until his final years and right away, you saw an article titled, “LOCAL NEWS VENDOR SHARES PERSONAL EXPERIENCE WITH CAPTAIN AMERICA’S PARTNER, Y/N L/N, AFTER LOSS OF CONTACT.” Of course, that old man had to talk about you.

Reading the article, you realized this was right after Steve and you crashed; you felt Grover’s grief and pain through his words. “That kid was a pain in my side, but y/n l/n is – was, one of the lights in my life. She was like the daughter I’ve always wanted an’ while I wish she coulda stayed here, she always told me she needed ta’ do somethin’ with her life,” Grover had said, the author keeping his Brooklyn accent. “Her relationship with James Barnes meant so much to that girl and if there was any way she’d avenge his death, she’d be doin’ it, and I know she did,” he said, “and even though I gotta live the rest of my life without that girl, I know I couldn’t have kept her from doin’ what she thought was best. I love her and…I’ll miss her.”

Visiting his grave was the most emotionally draining day since you’ve been back.

-

honeybee taglist: @clownerlyluv

@ginger-swag-rapunzel

@starkleila

#bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes series #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes/reader #bucky barnes/you #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes fic #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers series #avengers series #steve rogers x you #steve rogers platonic #platonic steve rogers #avengers x reader #avengers x you #phil coulson #nick fury #nicholas fury #avengers insert #reader insert #y/n #avengers x y/n #x reader insert #marvel #bucky x female reader #honeybee #captain america the first avenger #the first avenger #captain america

[extremelyblackandwhite]

champagne problems

pairing: mob!bucky barnes x reader

warnings: smut

a/n: oooo smut. the next chapter is the last and i’m depressed about it already

TOLERATE IT - TIS THE DAMN SEASON

Bustling crowds or silent sleepers, you’re not sure which is worse ...

Her shift dragged; it seemed as if the clock was stuck and moving only a minute after three hours had passed and even though there was the same sea of people coming through the doors of the club, the shift felt slow. Everything was in slow motion and her eyes daren’t move from the bar. Bobby was still on holiday and as such it as merely her, ignoring everyone and every word which came her way and ignoring Edward who kept nagging her about Mr. Barnes, a person who she didn’t want to look at.

She didn’t understand how one could just pretend to be entranced by another one and just turn it on yet she would also not debate her mind about what her feelings were for her boss, the same boss she was supposed to betray. She was supposed to betray him and yet she didn’t know how or even if she wanted to. Why should she? They clearly had sent Edward in and him being the spineless vermin he was, she was sure he’d quickly join his group by quickly sleeping with the woman who surrounded the mob boss. The women ... the women were always so beautiful, beautiful enough to make Y/N want to make herself up before she came up to the bar, feeling too bland next to the gorgeous women who paraded around him. Beautiful dresses, spotless faces, beautiful makeup, beautiful hair and here she was, in her old cardigan cleaning the bar with dirty rags stinking of a mix between bleach, peanuts and booze. 

Once the lights were up and every single glass was washed and placed on their due shelf for tomorrow she was out. Bag hanging from her shoulder and books against her chest, she took the backdoor. The front door always had freshly drunk or high people whom she wanted no problems with. As she pushed the door open, she saw him, smoking in front of him car looking so effortlessly cool, chic even. It was pouring, raining so harshly it would drench anyone who dared step foot in yet he just stood there unbothered, cigarette still somehow burning, water drops rolling of his trench coat. Usually she would’ve entered the car and allow herself to be driven home; instead she turned her head to the side, pretending she hadn’t seen him. He, however, had seen her. 

      - Wanda picking you up today, petal? - he said in a mocking tone, throwing the butt onto the bin.

      - No, sir. - she stopped, still not daring to look at him. - I thought about walking home alone. 

      - At night? When it’s pouring? Sometimes I think you like to get hurt, petal. 

      - With all due respect, Mr. Barnes, I think I should go by myself.

      - Please. - he sighed, hands on his hips. - Get in the car, I’ll drive you the fastest I can. You don’t even need to look my way. 

Her lips tightened. It was pouring rain, her clothes were already as drenched as they could be and she had been less than 10 minutes. She sighed, walking through puddles of water towards and away from him and inside his car, setting against the leathered seats. Bucky chuckled, watching from the side of his eye as she crossed her arms across her chest like a kid, avoiding his gaze as if he were the devil. Maybe he was, but he would never act like it in front of her.

She watched the rain fall down the window like waterfalls. It was bad, bad enough she could start seeing the water almost pool on the asphalt of the road. As they kept driving through the darkness, only the headlights giving light to the dark road until blinding lights came into their front view. Police came into view with their lights but all she could see was the bar barring the only way into her road. Bucky pulled the window down, charming smile as the cop realised who he was speaking with. She looked at her knees, perfectly knowing who it was, perfectly knowing if he discovered who she was so would James and she was locked in a car with him. Not a good combination.

     - Evening, officer. What seems to be the problem?

     - Mr. Barnes, sir. - she tipped his cap at him. - The road is flooded. We feared this and warned all residents to be at home before 5PM. 

     - I understand, officer but you see my employee here lives just down the road. Can’t I walk her in? Come on, you know I always pay you back, double even.

     - It’s up to your knees, sir. You’re better off in a hotel for the night, m’am. Safety protocol. 

James turned around his car making her look his way as he started driving away from her home. What was he doing? How was she supposed to go back home and how was she supposed to calm down when he was driving her away from her home. Was he going to drop her at a hotel? Was he going going to drop her, she didn’t know. She opened her mouth, waiting for words to come out but nothing came out. She didn’t know what to ask, what to say other than yell at him to let her out yet she didn’t. Y/N didn’t want to yell at him. 

He noticed this, slowing down the normal fast pace at which he liked to drive, only now hearing to both of them breathing and the water drops of rain hit the windows. He could see her, through the mirror, her face leaning against the window, eyes reflection a sort of fight he was sure never to completely understand, only partially knowing. His eyes returned to the road ahead, the lights of each house dimming as everyone prepared to hold each other tight, hold their loved ones as the storm continued. He could only look at himself, almost as his vision refused to notice she was right there but she was. Both locked in the same car. 

     - You can stay at my place tonight. - he mumbled. - You’ve been there before. I’ll drive you back first thing in the morning. 

She didn’t replied, instead letting her own eyes close momentarily, head laying against the water stained glass. She listened to the rain, considering all her life choices or what she was even doing. Was she okay with becoming this close to the mob boss? Becoming part of the inner group of females who followed him, just another name in a big list. Was that the question she should be asking? No. Did she really want to ask herself the question she had to? Also no. It was much easier to tell herself it was business. It was much easier to lie than tell the truth.

Y/N opened her eyes once again as the car slowed down and the sounds of rain drops were no longer around heard. They were parked inside his garage, one which she had seen before. He was the first one out the car, opening the door before walking away. She made haste to get off the car, almost power walking after him as he pressed the lift’s button to open the doors. The doors slide open and he stepped in, her following behind.

    - I’ll be sleeping in a hotel down the street so you can calm down. 

    - You can stay if you want. I mean, it’s your house. 

    - Why should I? So you can freak out about the possibility of me killing you?

    - That’s not it. 

    - Afraid I’m going to force myself on you? - he scoffed. - You know what, Y/N? I’m just not gonna be there and you can do whatever you want without blaming me for whatever theories you have. 

    - Why are you so mad suddenly? 

    - I’m not mad.

    - Yes, you are. - she crossed her arms. - Excuse me if I don’t feel comfortable around you when you have more than two hundred kills blamed on you, when you’re constantly surrounded by girls and the rumours and the guns you always carry. 

   - I’ve killed two people in my whole life. Two. - he pointed his finger at her, making her take a step back. - They deserved it and I’m so tired of trying to make you feel safe. I get you a job and you’re upset, I get you a job waitressing so idiots won’t treat you like shit and you think I’m being the bad guy. I drive you home every single time and you still look at me as if I’m going to kill you. You can think whatever you want, I’m done. 

She was going to rebuff him, tell him he was wrong but that wasn’t true. She couldn’t say he was wrong out of principle and because once the doors slide open, he disappeared into his big apartment. Y/N stayed behind, heart heavy as she threw her soaked bag onto the couch, sitting on it with a huff. Like a kid she put her hand under her chin, she knew he was right. Of course she knew. But she was the captain’s daughter, she was the one who’d heard tales and seen photos of terrible crimes on the kitchen table when she came in to show her dad her drawings. She knew it, she just didn’t exactly knew what he did. It was all very hush hush, mostly rumours, which ran from people to people and like the game of the broken phone, things got distorted.

She was the captain’s daughter but this wasn’t her. It wasn’t her identity. She knew better not to judge someone by rumours and gossip, her mother had taught her better than that yet she wanted to have her little walls. She wanted to be surrounded by that wall, that wall which said she felt absolutely nothing and that she was doing a good job. Y/N knew, she knew way too well what having those walls crumbling would mean. It would mean she was a woman infatuated with a man. Plain and simple, except it wasn’t and it wasn’t just a woman and just a man, it was the captain’s daughter and the mob boss. She knew not to slap labels on things but this is what it was, this was what she had been her whole life, not Y/N, not the nurse student, not her last name but the Captain’s daughter and him, him it was the same. She could count the number of people who knew his full name or even his first name in one hand. He was the boss. The mob boss, Barnes. Never James Buchanan Barnes. 

She sighed, looking to the chess board in the table in front of her. However, unlike everything else in the room which was absolutely spotless, organised and unseeingly unlived in, the chess board was still in the same position they had left it. Her fingers grazed the black chess king, holding it up to her eyes. The piece she had won.

His shoes hit the linoleum floor making her look his way. He had a small leather carry on, something quite stylish and refused to make eye contact with her instead walking straight to the elevator.

     - Mr. Barnes. - she perked up from the couch, getting his attention instantly. If she only knew. - Can you entertain me for a second?

     - I’m leaving, Y/N. What do you need?

     - Sit down. - she pointed at the couch in front of her. Bucky scoffed, for someone who was afraid of him killing her, she sure didn’t mind ordering him around. Her. The bartender. - Play with me. 

      - Play with you? - he dropped the suitcase to the floor, walking slowly to the chair in front of her. She sat against her own chair like a throne and so did he, standing in front of her. - You should be careful with your word choice.

      - You should be careful with me winning again.

      - I’ve learned all your moves, petal. I’m an observant player. 

      - I doubt that.

Bucky leaned over, setting his pieces as she did the same. Soon enough they were back to playing. Bucky observed her, watching as every play was so calculated, never by chance, lip in the middle of her teeth as she smoothly moved her pieces around almost like a ballet dance. Bucky remembered playing against more experienced players. “Chess is the game of the mind, James. You need to almost control and predict them to win” his teacher would tell him. She was impossible to read, always looking deep in thought yet so calm and collected, he guessed she needed that for the field she was in.

His pieces were dropped on her side, her taking what was his without any doubt until she stole his queen. Now, James’ knew not to play anymore. It was a courtesy of chess, yet she still didn’t look or carried the air of someone who had just won her game. Instead she looked at him, waiting for his move. Bucky leaned against his chair. 

      - You won. I should be leaving, it’s late. 

      - Wait, just .... why don’t you stay for a bit? We could talk, I’m not that tired yet. 

      - Petal, it’s late.

      - I’ll fix you a drink.

      - You can’t fix a scotch if your live depended on it. - he chuckled. - How about I fix you a drink? What’s your poison?

      - Can I get some tea? 

      - Sure. - he shrugged. - Which one do you want?

     - You have more than one type of tea? - she smirked, legs crossed over one another, the old wool dress still clinging to her skin due to the soaking wet fabric. James tried not to eye her, instead turning his back before he could be blamed of checking her out. - You don’t strike me as the type of person to like tea.

     - Maybe I’m just trying to impress you. 

     - Then in that case you should have biscuits. - she turned around on the couch, knees of the cushioned seat as she stared at him in the kitchen. He looked exactly like the type of man on the cover of an IKEA magazine, those ones were a shirtless man is holding a coffee cup like every morning after sex fantasy of every woman. 

     - I do have biscuits, petal. Which ones do you want?

     - Which ones do you have?

     - Try me.

     - Chocolate covered digestives. Only one side chocolate. 

     - An educated choice. - he opened one of the many drawers of his kitchen, pulling an acrylic container fulled to the brim with the same biscuits she had described. A man of taste indeed. He handed them a plate with three biscuits followed by the one tea cups he had which were his coffee mugs, always spotless white. She envied how pristine everything was in his home. In her flat, half the cutlery was hers, the other half Wanda’s and none matched with one being bright blue and the other one bright red. 

As for him, she knew what he drank, always the same, always the same old scotch. At this point she wondered if he liked it or if it was a power symbol. Big powerful man drinking the most expensive scotch in the world. At least it was the most expensive scotch when she researched it on her laptop on a particularly boring lecture. Yet, it somehow wasn’t the drink which gave him that untouchable appearance. It was him. 

    - I have a question. - he moved the glass away from his lips, pinkie finger pointing at her. - How come you ended up dating my cleaning boy?

    - We didn’t date. - she snorted, completely forgetting who she was speaking with. - His mother and my father dated for a long time after my mum died .. to be honest, I think it started before my mum died. Anyway, she had this awfully annoying kid, first time he came in he broke the head of my doll.

    - Oh no, petal. Should I break his head? - James joked, downing whatever was left of his scotch.

    - I would take you up on that. - Y/N rolled her eyes. - Dad always liked him, he once told me he was the child he never had.

    - Ouch. 

    - Well, he wanted a boy. - she leaned against the cushioned coach. - I don’t know why he said we dated, I would never.

    - Good.

    - Why do you ask? - she leaned her head against her shoulder

    - You have potential, petal. I thought maybe being around him would make him want to get back together ... I mean, you’re going to be a nurse.

    - Don’t trust him. - she held the mug against both her hands. 

    - Pardon?

    - Don’t trust him. Edward, I mean. Don’t tell him anything, don’t say anything, just don’t trust him.

    - You know something I don’t? - he put both his hands on either side of the couch’s handles. 

    - Promise me.

    - Petal ...

    - Promise me. - she cupped his face, looking him deep into those baby blue eyes she had gotten so used to see every day. - Promise me, okay? Just ... you don’t need to know. Promise me.

    - Petal, I’d do everything for you. - he rested his hand against her warm cheek. She reacted to his touch, leaning against his rough palm. Her eyes travelled towards his, looking at him like someone she’d knew from. Like an old friend. He leaned towards her, nose against hers. 

Her eyes flustered, cheeks warm and she no longer knew if it was due to the apartment’s heating or because he was looking at her that way. She closed her eyes, listening to the small sounds of the environment surrounding her. Bucky kissed her forehead as her eyes opened and the world seemed to stop for a while as if she was living her own version of a 1950′s romantic movie. Her finger caressed his cheek.

    - Well, you shouldn’t do everything for me. I’ll break your heart.

    - Already broken.

Y/N’s lip quivered at those words. It was if he had been meaning to say them but had held them in for so long, forceful forbidding himself to even think it and it broke her heart to hear it. She leaned her forehead against his, looking at him with a look Bucky didn’t remember seeing. God, he was so used to seeing fear in other’s faces that he almost forgot what ... it didn’t mind anymore. He’d done that mistake once early this day and he wasn’t going to do it again. She didn’t want him and he wasn’t going to try and convince her. She doesn’t belong in his world and she doesn’t belong in his. 

     - Kiss me. - Bucky didn’t think twice, immediately kissing her as if his life depended on it.

He pulled her away from the couch’s rest, pulling her towards him and caging her in his hold as her hands fell from his face and rested upon his shoulders. His jacket was discarded to the corner of the room, leaving the mob boss only in his soft black dress up shirt. His hands pulled at the hem of her dress which peeled off her body almost perfectly, the sheen on the water on her beautiful skin which made him want to run his lips over it. Her fingers grazed over the dark buttons of his shirt, pulling them off their own fabric rips to open his shirt which slide down his perfect physic. Her dress hanged by her hips as he raised her to lay atop his lap, throwing the chess board to the floor as his hands roamed her back. The pieces fell to the ground, some breaking, some rolling but none of them really cared too lost on each other.

Bucky turned her around, laying her atop the coffee table before sitting in the same couch she had been sitting. He could just look at her forever - warm damp skin, lips half open, irregular breathing, innocent knowing eyes. He could look at that forever and be happy yet all he wanted was to feel her, kiss her skin, sense the faint smell of the Daisy perfume she would reapply behind the bar every once in a while. He smirked, leaning over her body, one hand gathering both her hands above her head while the other held her waist, lips leaning from her jaw to her neck. She whined, fingers moving and wrists turning as she tried to free herself from his grip, wanting to hold him but he didn’t allow her. Instead, Bucky started sucking on her pressure point, wanting to leave a mark for others to see before moving to her collarbones, down her perfect swells and to her belly button.

He smirked as he reached where her dress was hanging. He pulled it slowly out of her legs coming face to face with her beige underwear with a little bow up top. A little present for him to open. 

Y/N could feel his finger grazing her skin, dragging teasingly. He was so close, so close to her core and yet so far. All she wanted to do was push him to do it but he had her hands tightly caged in his hand. She looked at him with pleading eyes, almost pouting making him chuckle at how needy she was. He would’ve toy with her had he not want to feel her for so long.

He dragged her underwear down her legs, throwing it across his living room before setting himself on his knees in front of her. There he was, the most powerful man in the town kneeled in front of her, kissing her leg from her ankle to the apex of her thigh. All she could feel was his soft lips contrasting with the rough stubble he had which made the mix of emotions much more interesting. It was slow yet hungry at the same time and she expected him to keep at it until his lips moved to her core abruptly. She held it a moan on her throat, oxygen punched out of her lungs as she moved her head to the side. 

Bucky hooked both her legs over her shoulders, getting the access he so wanted, getting her where he’d always wanter her. She moaned uncontrollably as his tongue teased her entrance, lips suckling her bud. Y/N wanted to hold onto his head, pull on his hair and her fingers kept contracting as she fought his handle of her hands. It was too much, so much she could feel herself start to cry, not remembering the last time someone had paid this much attention to her. She tried not to focus on him eating her out, feeling like if she did she’d come down from her high as fast as she had gotten there. Once he started moaning against her core, the vibration drove her over the edge yet he remained there licking and lapping at whatever she had to offer as she regained her breathe. 

    - You okay there, petal? - he rose, leaning over to kiss her, releasing her hands. As if they were magnetic, she cupped his face, feeling his skin against her fingers. He pulled his lips away from her, expecting an answer but she only nodded, hands leaving his face to travel to his trousers to try and push them down. Bucky aided her with that, pushing his trousers down and pulling her closer.

He could see his eyes look into his, so beautiful yet so lustful at the same time. God this woman, he thought to himself, this woman is gonna end me. His hand searched for hers, intertwining his fingers with hers as he slowly started to enter her, her walls accommodating him like they were made for each other. She forcefully shut her eyes, the sting being the first thing she felt, not used to being stretched out like that.

   - It’s okay, petal. - he kissed her forehead. - We can stop, do you wanna stop?

   - No. - she moaned, the sting started to fade as pleasure gave way. He got her signal and started to slowly rock in and out of her, eyes glued to were they were both connected. Dear God. He couldn’t help but pick up the pace at the sound of her lustful moans, leaning down to kiss her as he lost control over what pace they were at, instead going by instinct. 

She could feel and hear everything; her walls tightening around him, milking him for what he was worth it, the groans that sounded like moans that he would let out, his lips never leaving hers no matter how messy the kiss became, the slapping sound of their skin meeting.  The room was hot, filled with sighs and groans and moans, something pornographic. 

    - Come on, petal. You’re gonna come undone for me, yeah? Just for me. - he tried to get a grip on himself as she started to clench on him more often. His hands came up behind her back, slowly raising it from the coffee table as he quickened his pace, still panting but not stopping as if he had been possessed by an incubus. How could he stop? How could he stop when she looked like that, head thrown back, lips swollen and open, fucking perfect. 

A high pitched moan made the room go completely new, it was almost as if she were high, white spots crowding her view as she let her muscles relax and fall back. James held her, throwing himself to the couch behind him, her on top of him as ropes of white spurted inside of her and spilled onto the couch. Fuck, he wanted to keep those stains so he could remember. Her head rested against his shoulder, breathing returning to normal as he kissed her hair. 

      - If you wanted me to stay so badly, you could’ve just asked. - he grinned, kissing her head once more.

      - Shut up. - she giggled, turning her head to look at him. - Hi.

      - Hi. - he smiled. His hand blindly searched for one of the many useless blankets that adorned his couches to wrap her in. Once he found one, he drapped it over her back, managing to get up and walk to her room.

She wanted to stay awake, she wanted to stay awake and spend the night talking to him but once the blanket draped over her back, she was good as gone. 

The morning rose with its cloudy skies, the dim lighting awaking her up as she rose her head from the bed, hair made into a tangled mess. He had an arm over her, face to her back, softly sleeping. She wondered why it was so surprising to see him like that, even mob bosses sleep but he just looked so peaceful, so ... so normal. Almost as if they could be a regular couple just like everyone else. She shifted in bed, to look at him, her slight moves immediately awaking him but he chose to keep his eyes close, not wanting her to worry about waking him up. 

   - I know you’re awake. - she said, voice laced with sleep as she noticed his breathe pattern change as well as his eyelids twitching. - James. 

   - Bucky. - he corrected. - You can call me James when I’m fucking you but I prefer Bucky. 

   - Bucky. - she repeated. - I like that.

   - Do you wanna have breakfast? - he opened his eyes. - Anything you want. 

   - You’re gonna cook me breakfast or are you gonna force the shops to open at ... - she looked at her watch, colour draining from her face. - 10AM. Holy shit, I’m late.

   - Y/N ... - he laughed as she got out of the bed, bed sheet wrapped around her body as she searched his room for her clothing. - It’s drying in the bathroom, petal. 

   - I’M LATE. I’M LATE TO THE ONLY CLASS I LIKE. - she rushed over to the bathroom, almost tripping on the large sheet. Bucky stood on his side, watching her with a silly grin as she pulled the dress over her body along with her underwear. - STOP STARING, YOU’RE DRIVING. 

   - You’re calling the shots now? - he cocked an eyebrow at her. 

   - I’m late. - she kneeled on his bed, trying to push him out of it. - Bucky, c’mon.

   - No, petal. You’re already late, just stay the day with me. I’ll even give you the day off. 

   - I have to graduate first. - she crossed her arms.

   - Okay. 

Bucky was quick to get dressed, grabbing his car keys from the hook on the door before taking her down to the garage and into the car. Y/N pushed down the mirror, trying to fix whatever mess he had done to her. There was not much she could do but try and comb her hair and push her dress’ neckline up to try and hide the hickeys. She kept looking at her watch, wondering if she’d make it and as he parked in front of her department’s building, she only had 5 minutes to go. It felt more like a one night stand but desperate times called for desperate measures and besides she was working this night so she could explain to him that she wasn’t trying to bail.

   - I can’t drive you home tonight, petal. Gotta receive a shipping by the docks. Sam will probably drive you, I’ll speak with him at the club and I’ll let you know before I leave.

   - It’s okay I can ask Pietro or Wanda. 

   - Go on before you’re actually late for it. - he opened her door and she sprinted like a mad woman.

As she walked into the lecture hall, most of her colleagues, including Wanda, were already sat on. She shamefully hide her head, climbing up the stairs to the middle row where Wanda had kindly saved her a seat and was probably wondering where she had been and why she hadn’t called. Once she sat, down, the questions ran down on her. 

   - You look like hell, Y/N. God, why do you even have a phone if you don’t call me or Pietro? 

   - I’m sorry, they had blocked the road.

   - Did they block your phone signal?

   - No. - she sighed. - Hey, you think Pietro or you can pick me up today? Mr. Barnes is receiving a shipment tonight.

   - He’s receiving a shipment? Do you know where?

   - Uhm ... yes.

   - Good, that means you can tell your father and you can finally quit that god awful job and behave like regular Y/N.

She had forgotten. She knew where the shipment was, she had the smoking gun, she was done, right? Why did it felt so heavy? That was what she was put into his life for, to get information yet she couldn’t find herself to send the text to her father. The rest of the day she stared at her phone, at her father’s number, her fingers hovering over the keypad. She knew the answer, docks. Five letters, one word. There was only that place yet writing those five letters seemed to be the hardest thing in the world. She had time, she told herself. She had time to send her father the message so she spent the day ignoring it.

As she walked on the cobblestones that led to the bar, her resolve only broke looser. She didn’t want to send that text, he didn’t deserve that, he didn’t deserve to have her stab him in the back. She didn’t want to stab him in the back, that was not her. Maybe that was what they wanted of her but it wasn’t her and it was not going to be her. As she stepped inside the already half full bar, she turned off her phone. Nobody needs to know, nobody will know. As she told herself those words, someone pushed her arm, throwing her onto the supply cupboard. She looked up to see Edward locking the door behind them.

  - What the fuck? I have a job to do. - she tried to push past him but he stood there. - What do you want?

  - The waiters said they saw you get in the car with Barnes.

  - So? - she crossed her arms. - He drives me home.

  - I knew you shouldn’t be in the case. I mean, you’re a wannabe nurse and you think you’re in the big league.

  - What is that supposed to mean? I was put up to this way before you were.

  - Wonder why? You’re doing a shit job and now you’re fucking sleeping with Barnes? I always knew you got what you wanted but I never knew you were a mob boss’ whore now. 

  - Oh fuck off, Edward. - she tried to push him once again but he pushed her back and further into the cupboard.

  - Where’s the shipment, Y/N? Do the right thing and you can go back to sucking him off. 

  - You can go to hell.

  - WHERE IS IT? - he pushed her against the wall but she spat on his face. - Fine, you know what fine. Guys like him are never gonna go to prison, he’s just gonna buy his way out. If you want things done, do them yourself.

   - Don’t do anything stupid, Edward. - she pleading, following him as he walked to the door. - You’re not gonna win. Just give up.

   - I hope you fucked him goodbye. - his hand went into the hem of his pants, she knew damn well what he was about to grab and about to do. She rushed to the door but he locked it on her face. Her heart raced as she started to punch and kick the door, screaming at him to open the door. 

    - Bastard! - she mumbled, looking over the cupboard and at the small window up the top. There was a series of creaky shelves under them. Hopefully it was open. Carefully, she moved the stuff out the shelves and started to climb them until the last one which gave her enough room to push the window open. As she reached for the latch, the window didn’t move. Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

She looked around, looking for anything to break the window with but everything was merely brooms and old rags. She wrapped an old vodka smelling rag around her hand and sighed. It’s okay, you’ve seen it done in the movies besides it’s an old cupboard, old window. It’s gonna be easy. She bite her lip and swung her hand towards the glass which shattered into her hand, a few pieces lodging into her palm. It was a hole small enough for her to put her hand in and open the latch from outside. As she done it, the window creaked open and she jumped into the small space, wiggling out of it and falling onto the ground.

Once she found herself in the alleyway she ran over to the employees door, opening it and rushing into the dance floor. Her eyes scanned the room, his usual table was empty and he wasn’t either at the bar. Her best option was to try and find him before Edward did. Although she harboured a grudge against him, she could not overpower it. She mixed with the rest of the club goers trying to look for Bucky until she spotted him moving through the crowd. She pushed a few people away, trying to reach him by yelling out his name but the music was too loud. Luckily for her, the crowds were easy enough to overcome and she finally reached him, tugging onto his jacket before he could leave.

  - Hey petal. You’re on your break? - he asked, smiling down at her.

  - Bucky, I need to tell you something.

  - What happened to you hand? - he noticed her bleeding hand. - Did you drop a bottle? Did someone hurt you?

  - Bucky, wait, I ...

  - BARNES! - a voice interrupted her. The crowd screamed and stepped away as Edward held a gun up. Bucky put his arm over her shoulder to push her behind him but she stepped in front of him. 

The sound of the gunshot went off, everyone was screaming and running out of the club but all she could hear was a beep. Her breath seemed to falter once to quicken again as her muscles lost force and she felt herself falling. She awaited to hit the ground but someone held her.

  - FUCKING KILL HIM! - she could hear Bucky’s voice in slow motion almost as everything went darker than the club she was in.

She would’ve made such a lovely bride, what a shame she’s fucked in the head

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[swiftl0ck]

taylor swift x characters

john and sherlock x peace

bbc sherlock

folklore - taylor swift

i think this song works so perfectly for john and sherlock, the beautiful relationship they have and how they fit together like puzzle pieces, they are truly the best team and totally lost without each other.

Our coming-of-age has come and gone Suddenly the summer, it's clear

sherlock and john meet at a time in their lives where they have grown up. they have lived separate lives and have both assumed that they are fine on their own. then 'summer comes', they meet and it becomes clear that they have more growing up to do, they push each other to change and be better.

I never had the courage of my convictions As long as danger is near

this line is john speaking, sherlock has never had a lack of courage in his convictions, he speaks his mind and john respects him for it. john has been away from civilian life for some time, he has less experience in standing up for his values when it really counts, but sherlock pushes him to.

And it's just around the corner, darling 'Cause it lives in me

sherlock thinks he is dangerous, he believes he is unfeeling and logical and he hurts people when he is trying to help. he has been told this so much he accepts it as truth. sherlock thinks he is inherently dangerous to know, because, despite his deep understanding of how humans work, he doesn't know where he fits into that. he keeps causing people pain when he doesn't mean to, so he warns them against him.

no, I could never give you peace

this is the truly beautiful message of the song. sherlock needs danger, he thrives off cases and mystery, without it he loses the will to live and spirals. John loves to investigate with him, this has been made clear as he comes back to work alongside sherlock time and time again, however, he does not NEED it as sherlock does. in the chorus, it truly shows how sherlock is telling john that a life with him, can never be peaceful.

but I'm a fire and I'll keep your brittle heart warm

what better metaphor to describe sherlock holmes than a fire. he blazes around london, bright and powerful, once set off there is little point controlling him but he channels his energy towards burning out all evil he can find. john is struggling until he meets sherlock holmes, the fire to make him feel alive again and warm his brittle heart, toughened by years in a war.

if your cascade ocean wave blues come

all these people think love's for show but I would die for you in secret

sherlock ruined his whole reputation, died a fraud and a traitor, to save john, lestrade and mrs hudson. the man who once scoffed at the weaknesses of human emotion finally understands how powerful it is and truly dies for them in secret.

the devil's in the details, but you got a friend in me would it be enough if I could never give you peace?

the devil really is in the details for sherlock holmes. his head runs round with theories and deductions and observations. "it's always you john watson, you keep me right". with the swirling mess inside his head, it's watson's constant presence that keeps him from losing his sanity to the devil of unending thought.

your integrity makes me seem small

despite his intelligence and incredible abilities, sherlock often loses sight of what matters to normal people. i believe there is no time that sherlock feels smaller than when john is yelling at him for being unfeeling. especially as sherlock often does not know what he has done wrong, he feels superior to john in every way apart from emotions. in that he feels inferior.

you paint dreamscapes on the wall

a dreamscape is "a landscape or scene with the characteristic of dreams". both sherlock and john have dreams of what life could be like, but, as the show goes on, they each become happier with their reality, raising rosie in 221b, even if it isn't perfect.

however, the dreamscapes could also be about sherlock's mind palace, because what better way to describe a mind palace than a dreamscape of information.

I talk shit with my friends it's like I'm wasting your honour

john perpetuates his friends' general opinion that sherlock is cold and has no feelings when he knows that isn't true. he makes jokes at sherlock's expense when it is clear that sherlock is not emotionless, he just doesn't show emotions in the same way.

and you know that I'd swing with you for the fences sit with you in the trenches.

sherlock and john are with each other in the highs and lows in life, when they solve cases and save lives or when they lose the ones they love most. they may drift apart but they will always come back to each other. the wartime imagery of trenches could also reference john's army history.

give you my wild, give you a child

this line is so perfect, in the last scenes of the final problem, john and sherlock are seen raising rosie together. she may not be sherlock's child but john is entrusting him with her care as they raise her together. i think this is a really beautiful conclusion to their story, especially because of how much john struggles to trust sherlock after the six thatchers. it clearly depicts that the trust there is stronger than ever as john allows sherlock to be such a big part of rosie's life.

give you the silence that only comes when two people understand each other

the understanding between john and sherlock is unmatched. the amount of communication that goes unsaid throughout the whole show is so intricate and detailed and yet they both understand the other one very clearly. a level of connection that allows them to be so incredible at what they do.

family that I chose now that I see your brother as my brother

Is it enough? But there's robbers to the east, clowns to the west

sherlock and john can never relax, they have made too many enemies over the years, there are people everywhere who are angry at them and nothing can change that. but they don't let that come between them, they fight their robbers and clowns together.

I'd give you my sunshine, give you my best

sherlock wants to be his best self for john, so many times we see him trying to change something in his life when john asks him to. sherlock truly values his opinions. however, sherlock also always attempts to only show john and those around him his 'sunshine', he struggles to be vulnerable and open with others.

but the rain is always gonna come if you're standing with me

john and sherlock both know that life would be easier for john if he didn't stand with sherlock, but he does anyway, and I think that is such a powerful thing.

Thank you so much for reading!

written by iona

listen to peace here:

#bbc sherlock #sherlock #sherlock holmes #john watson #jim moriarty #benedict cumberbatch #martin freeman #mycroft holmes #johnlock #taylor swift #peace

[wiypt-writes]

Stark Spangled Banner

Ch24: Like The Old Man Said…Together Part 1- I Wouldn’t Call It A Comfort

Summary: The Avengers track Ultron and it’s a race against time before the AI can put his plan into action.

Pairing: Steve Rogers x OFC Katie Stark

Warnings: Bad language, Smut (NSFW) violence and crazy assed robots. Oh and “Something dramatic, I hope!”

A/N: This chapter now contains additional content which is why It has been split into two parts.

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.

A/N: Another massive big up for @angrybirdcr​ for her edits xx

Chapter 23 Part 2

Stark Spangled Banner Masterlist // Main Masterlist

“I’ve put the boys to work.” Laura gestured out of the window as Katie chewed on her grilled cheese. She’d had a good four hours sleep and was feeling much better after a scalding hot shower. She glanced across the lawn area to where Steve and Tony were positioned at the side of the house, both holding an axe, stood by a stack of large logs and two piles of smaller logs.

“You got Tony doing manual labour?” Katie grinned at her. “Well played.”

Laura chuckled and then began to chat to about her plans for dinner. “Clint suggested comfort food. fried chicken and Mac and Cheese to be specific”

“You’ll win Steve over instantly.” Katie leaned against the counter. “I’m happy to help, lot of people to feed, not to mention Stevie eats enough for three.”  

“You wanna take her up on that.” Clint walked into the kitchen and opened a drawer near the door.“She’s a damned good cook is Nova. Obviously, not as good as you, babe.” He added as a quick afterthought. “Smooth Barton…” Katie laughed as Laura threw a tea towel at his head. Easily catching it ant tossing it back, he pulled a tape measure from the drawer and left through the backdoor, still laughing, the kids trailing behind him.

Katie stared at the back door as it shut, the normality of the scene suddenly hitting her. He had a wife, two children, and still managed to hold down the ridiculous lifestyle the Avengers and SHIELD demanded.

“How do you do it?” She blurted out. The woman placed the last plate on the sink to drain and straightened up. “I mean this, it’s so ordinary.” she turned, once more looking out of the window. She watched Steve swing his axe, his light blue Under Armour skin top clinging to every part of his torso.

“It’s possible…” Laura mused, standing behind her as she followed the younger woman’s gaze. You know, to have a domestic life…well, a variation on one, away from the mess.”

“Problem is the pair of us are tangled in the mess.” Katie muttered, not taking her eyes off Steve.

“Well then, you should understand each other more.” Laura pointed out, before she changed the subject. “Here, they could probably use a drink. You wanna take ‘em that jug of ice tea for me?”

“Sure.”

A minute or so later Katie crossed the lawn with a tray sporting a full jug and two glasses towards where both men where stood by the decreasing mound of large logs and the two increasing mounds of smaller ones.  Steve’s pile of cut logs was significantly bigger than Tony’s, which was hardly surprising.

And the pair of them were bickering which was also not surprising.

“Is that a problem?” Steve asked, picking the two halves he had just cut up and throwing them onto his pile, bristling slightly at the fact Tony was digging into why he wasn’t as affected by the Maximoff’s visions as everyone else. Truth be told he had been affected, big time, but since he and Katie had talked it through he felt better. But he wasn’t about to tell anyone that, frankly it was no ones’ business what any of them had seen bar their own.

“I don’t trust a guy without a dark side. Call me old fashioned.” Tony shrugged

“Well let’s just say you haven’t seen it yet.” Steve glowered at him, his temper starting to rise. He couldn’t help but feel pissed at Tony, because if it wasn’t for him they wouldn’t even be in this mess.

“You know this is what he’s trying to do right?” A soft voice spoke and Steve turned to see Katie setting a tray of drinks down behind them. They both turned to look at her “Ultron is trying to tear us apart.”

“Well I guess he’d know.” Steve jerked his head in Tony’s direction “Whether he tells us is a bit of a question”

“Banner and I were doing research-”

“That would affect the team” Steve picked up another log. His voice was gaining momentum, and Katie let out a groan, she knew he was getting angry.

“That would end the team” Tony said simply, “Isn’t that the mission? Isn’t that the “why” we fight, so we can end the fight, so we get to go home?”

Without so much as a huff of noise, Steve ripped the log he was holding apart with his bare hands in a fit of temper that aroused Katie far more than it should have done. Tony raised his eyebrows slightly and Steve’s chest heaved as he regained his composure. He turned to look at Tony and spoke, his voice calm and measured.

“Every time someone tries to win a war before it starts, innocent people die. Every time.” He spoke softly but sternly, trying to make his point. Loki, Hydra, SHIELD with Insight.. now this.

“I’m sorry. Mr. Stark,” Laura headed across the lawn towards them all. “Uh, Clint said you wouldn’t mind, but, our tractor, it doesn’t seem to want to start at all. I thought maybe you might…

“Yeah, I’ll give her a kick.” Tony smiled at Laura then as he turned to leave he looked back at Steve delivering his next line with the air of a petulant child “Don’t take from my pile.”

“You know if he wasn’t your bother…” Steve reached for a glass of tea, draining it in one and leaving his sentence hanging. Katie took a deep breath and stood up.

“Cut him a bit of slack yeah?” Her eyes flashed. “The Maximoff girl. She got to him too.”

Steve looked down at her and frowned, that was news to him. “But I thought…”

“It was the day we found the sceptre.” Katie said. “She got to him in Strucker’s lab only he didn’t know what it was at the time. And you wanna know what he saw?” her voice wasn’t angry but she levelled Steve with a look that left him with no uncertain terms she was defending her brother “He saw us all dead because he hadn’t tried hard enough.” Steve inwardly groaned as she finished. “That’s what Ultron is about, that’s why he started it again.”

“Sorry, I didn’t know.” Steve shook his head, gently

“Well now you do.” Katie shrugged and decided to change the subject, “Oh, and by the way, what you did with that log back then-” she mimed pulling something apart. “-kinda turned me on a hell of a lot more than it should.”

He grinned and stepped towards her, closing the short distance they were apart “Well, if we go back inside I can…”

“Nice try, you have wood.” Katie pointed the logs

“Yes and I’d kinda like to do something about it!”

“Steve!” Katie spluttered out through her laugh, as she hit him in the chest, mentally making a note toe have words with Sam for teaching him innuendoes and street slang

He stepped back, laughing and rubbing at the spot where her hand had connected with him. He cocked his head playfully to the right, and was about to say something else about the fact he was feeling pretty horny on account of it being a few days since they’d last enjoyed one another seeing as his plans for her and that tight blue dress had been interrupted post the party, but Katie’s attention was taken by something else.

“Lucky!” She grinned crouching down to pet the dog who was jumping all over her, giving out little barks. “Man you got big!” Steve looked down at his girl and the sandy coloured dog, frowning as he noticed it only had one eye.

“Is this the pizza eating puppy you talked about?” he asked, bending down to pet the dog. “Sure is.” Katie grinned standing up as the dog ran off back to Barton after he whistled. “Not so much of a puppy now though.”

She smiled and made her way back over to the house. Steve looked at the pile of logs, then her, then back and picked up his axe again.

Inside, Katie started to help Laura with the dinner, the pair of them working together easily. Steve and Clint joined them in the kitchen not long after, both men sitting at the table with a beer as Lila scrambled up onto Steve’s knee, Steve waving away Clint’s instruction for her to leave him alone, he didn’t mind one bit. Katie had noticed the small girl sat there, talking to Steve and she’d smiled and turned back to her cooking. She was just rinsing off the salad when she looked up out of the window, seeing something that she really wasn’t expecting.

“I don’t believe it.” She whispered as she watched Tony and the tall, bald headed man with the trench coat and the eye patch walking up the path towards them. She turned to Clint and Steve “We got company, boys.” Both men stood up as the door opened, Lila jumping of Steve’s knee. The soldier’s hands went to his hips, his mouth forming a thin line as his eyes fell onto the man in front of him.

“At ease Soldier…” Fury said, a smile creeping across his face as Tony walked into the room behind him muttering about traitors, Maria Hill and ‘Goth Pirates’

****

“Ultron took you folks out of play to buy himself time.” Fury said glass of water in his hand as he leaned against the kitchen counter. “My contacts all say he’s building something. The amount of Vibranium he made off with, I don’t think it’s just one thing.”

“What about Ultron himself?” Steve asked, he was stood in the doorway to the kitchen, leaning against the door frame, arms folded.

“Ah. He’s easy to track, he’s everywhere. Guy’s multiplying faster than a Catholic rabbit. Still doesn’t help us get an angle on any of his plans though.”

Tony shoved the last piece of the chicken he had been eating in his mouth and walked to the sink to pick up a towel to wipe his hands. “He still going after launch codes? “

“Yes, he is, but he’s not making any headway.”

Katie frowned from her seat at the table, opposite Natasha. “Well that doesn’t make sense. Tony cracked the Pentagon’s firewall in high school for a dare”.

Tony smiled fondly at the memory. That had earned him an ass whooping and a half from his dad.

“Yeah, well, I contacted our friends at the NEXUS about that”. Fury continued

“NEXUS?” Steve questioned.

“It’s the world internet hub in Oslo” Banner explained, he was stood behind Natasha leaning against the sideboard. “Every byte of data flows through there, fastest access on earth.”

At that point Lila ran into the room, a piece of paper in her hand.

“So what’d they say?” Clint asked, turning 3 darts over in his hand from his stance a few feet away from Fury.

Lila handed the piece of paper to Natasha, who looked at her, then the paper, grinning and gave the little girl a one armed hug. She placed the paper down on the table and Katie noticed that it was a watercolour paint picture of a butterfly.

“He’s fixated on the missiles.” Fury drained his glass of water. “But the codes are constantly being changed.

“By whom?” Tony questioned. At that point Clint threw the darts straight past Tony, about an inch or so away from his ear straight into the bullseye of the dart board. Tony spun round to glare at him, Clint shrugged apologetically, grinning at the same time. Hawkeye by name, Hawkeye by nature.

“Parties unknown.” Fury said, a puzzled tone to his voice

“Do we have an ally?” Katie asked.

“Ultron’s got an enemy, that’s not the same thing.” Fury looked at her “Still, I’d pay folding money to know who it is”

“I might need to visit Oslo, find our unknown.” Tony pondered, to no one in particular.

“Well, this is good times, boss, but I was kind of hoping when I saw you, you’d have more than that.” Natasha sighed, leaning back in her chair.

“I do.” Nick looked round the room. “I have you.”

Everyone shared a look round the room at one another. None of them were feeling particularly useful if truth be told.

“Back in the day, I had eyes everywhere, ears everywhere else.” Fury continued “Yet here we all are, back on Earth, with nothing but our wit, and our will to save the world. So stand. Outwit the platinum bastard.”

“Steve doesn’t like that kind of talk.” Natasha looked at him.

“You know what, Romanoff? “ Steve’s tone was dead pan. She smiled mischievously.

“So what does he want? “ Fury continued.

“To become better. Better than us.” Katie looked around.

“Right, he keeps building bodies.” Steve agreed

“Person bodies. The human form is inefficient, biologically speaking, we’re outmoded.” Tony mused “But he keeps coming back to it” 

“Yeah, when you two programmed him to protect the human race, you amazingly failed” Katie sighed, looking over at Tony then to Bruce, who was looking at Lila’s drawing over Nat’s shoulder, his arms folded, a thoughtful look on his face.

“They don’t need to be protected, they need to evolve.” The Doctor said, not looking up. “Ultron’s going to evolve.”

“How?” Fury asked.

“Has anyone been in contact with Helen Cho?” Bruce glanced around the room.

There was a pause, and then all at once there was a flurry of activity. Tony whipped his phone out and began to dial, Nat and Katie both stood up, Clint hurried out of the kitchen and Fury was also talking to someone as Steve and Bruce began discussing the intricacies of what Ultron was likely to want Helen for, which centred around the regeneration cradle, a larger version of the technology that had healed Clint after he had been shot when retrieving the sceptre.  

“If Ultron is really building a body…” Steve trailed off as they all prepared to leave,  his voice dropping

“He’ll be more powerful than any of us. Maybe all of us.” Katie sighed.

“An android designed by a robot” Tony finished.

“You know I really miss the days when the weirdest thing science ever created was me.” Steve raised his eyebrows. Katie and Tony both smiled gently.

“I’ll drop Banner off at the tower. Do you mind if I borrow Ms. Hill?” Fury said, pulling on his trench coat.

“She’s all yours, apparently.” Tony shrugged “What are you gonna do? “

“I don’t know. Something dramatic, I hope.”

Katie found herself slightly concerned that the threat of Fury doing something dramatic didn’t worry her half as much as facing Ultron.

*****

Clint expertly piloted the Quinn Jet low enough for Steve to drop onto the roof of the U-GU-Gin Genetic Research Lab roof.

“Two minutes. Stay close.” Steve instructed as the jet roe again to hover above the building away from any eyes.

A few moments passed and then the crew on the jet heard Steve shout “Dr Cho…are you hurt?”  There was a bit of a conversation which they didn’t hear, but then Helen’s voice came over the comms loud and clear, if a little strained.

“The gem, its power is uncontainable. You can’t just blow it up. You have to get the Cradle to Stark.”

There was another pause before Steve’s voice spoke clearly ”Did you guys copy that?

“We did.” Clint said.

“I got a private jet taking off, across town, no manifest.” Katie read the details on the computer screen in front of her. “That could be him.”

“There!” Clint said loudly, pointing out of the front window of the jet. Both Natasha and Katie moved so they could follow his gaze. “It’s the truck from the lab. Right above you, Cap. On the loop by the bridge.”

The jet scanned the truck, confirming their suspicions with the imaging that they all saw on the monitor.

“It’s them.” Clint continued. “I got three with the Cradle, one in the cab. I could take out the driver”

“No.” Katie instructed. “If what Helen is saying is right, that truck crashes, the gem could level the city.”

“We need to draw out Ultron” Steve spoke on the coms. They all waited for a further update and, thirty seconds or so later, there was a loud bang and he followed up his commentary. ”Well, he’s definitely unhappy! I’m gonna try and keep him that way.”

Katie looked down to see Steve was clinging onto the back of the truck and her heart skipped a beat. Making a decision she strode to wing space of the jet and pressed her palm to the pad besides the large locker that contained her suit.

“You’re not a match for him Cap…” Clint said

“Thanks Barton!” Steve replied, sarcastically.

“We need to get down there, give him some back up…”  Katie called, turning round to look at Nat as she stepped backwards, allowing her suit to form around her.

“Ok.” Clint said, nodding “I’ll give you the cover up top.”

Nat took off her headset and joined Katie in the equipment store, pushing a small coms piece into her ear. She headed to the back of the ship, straddling the motorbike that was propped up at the side.

“He’s lost his shield. I’m gonna drop you as close to it as I can.” Clint advised as he flipped a few controls.

“Roger.” Katie continued with the final checks to her suit, without JARVIS she was flying this thing herself, just as she had been at Klaus’ base so she needed to make sure everything was right. Clint steered them down towards the road.

“We got a window. Four, three…give ‘em hell.” Clint said, pushing the button for the ramp. Natasha sped the bike off and dropped down with a squeal of tyres before taking the jet higher.

“Us girls are always picking up after you boys.” She said gently and Katie headed to the back of the ramp, her scans watching as Natasha picked up Steve’s shield, following Clint’s commentary.

“They’re heading under the overpass, I’ve got no shot”

“Which way? “ Nat asked.

“Hard right… Now.” Clint instructed. Natasha did as she was told. As Clint hovered over the top of them Katie shot out from the back of the jet and swooped down just as Natasha threw the shield up to Steve. Steve caught it and instantly flung it, sent the AI flying backwards. Ultron wasn’t down for long, jumping up and resuming the fight as Katie landed behind the Robot as he sent a blast of power at Steve, who instantly held his shield up as he was catapulted backwards onto the bonnet of the car behind. She fired a repulsor at the AI, causing him to turn his attention to her as he wheeled round and shot back. She flew out of the way as the shot hit the car behind, the screeches of brakes and grinding of metal hit her ears as cars collided on the road.

“You Starks are like insects.” Ultron hissed out. “Annoying and irritating.”

“Yeah well, some insects pact a bit of a sting.” Katie shot out a static pulse from the shoulder of her suit. It immobilised Ultron for a good few seconds, which was long enough for Steve to climb back onto the top of the truck, hitting him once more with his shield. As Ultron fell forward towards Katie she jumped up, kicking out with her boot, pushing him down into the metal of the truck before landing.  Ultron regained control of his functions and the three of them began to fight, Steve and Katie dodging the rays of power as they flew at them, Ultron easily deflecting the beams the Supernova suit sent his way.

“Clint can you draw out the guards?”  Nat’s voice came over the comms.

“Let’s find out.”  Clint replied simply.

Katie fired another static pulse towards Ultron, but he easily deflected it and shot once more at her as she spiralled away.

“You think I’d let you get me with that again?” he growled.

“No but, made you look.”  She grinned, and at that point Clint shot the jet downwards and it fired off a few shots at Ultron, deliberately missing the delicate package the truck contained. It worked and as Katie watched 4 Ultron Sentries fly out and follow the jet upwards. Ultron turned and flew at Steve who spun, slamming him into a concrete pillar by the side of the road. Katie swooped in, firing again but Ultron was ready and caught her with a beam causing her to spin blindly through the air.  With no JAVIS to help, it took her a while to regain control but eventually she righted herself just in time to see Ultron spear at Steve, the two of them crashing into a nearby moving train. She shot forward, putting all her power into her thrusters, speeding up to catch it.

"Heading back towards you, whatever you’re gonna’ do. Do it now.” Clint informed over the coms as Katie dropped down so I was level with the train, looking into the windows.

“I’m going in, guys can you keep him occupied?” Natasha questioned as Katie finally caught up with the right carriage to see Ultron sending Steve flying again, landing hard against a metal door.

“What do you think we’ve been doing!”  Steve grit out, shaking his head, as once again he stood up, and resumed his fight with the AI as Katie shot a beam through the window, catching the robot unawares and causing him to fly out of the side of the train.

As she flew in through the window, the AI came crashing through one a bit further up and the two of them shot at one another, the beams hitting in mid-air and deflecting off one another, blowing a hole in the roof of the train.

“The package is airborne.” Clint informed us, “I have a clean shot.”

“Negative I am still in the truck.” Natasha said.

“What the hell are you doing?” Katie yelled, as Ultron sent a bench of seats towards her, which she blasted out of the way.

“Just be ready, I’m sending the package to you, Clint!”

“How do you want me to take it?” Clint asked sarcastically as Katie looked up through the hole in the roof to see the truck way above them.

“Uh, you might wish you hadn’t asked that.”

At that point Katie was floored as Steve landed heavily on top of her, having been blasted off his feet by Ultron.

“Ow…” he muttered, rolling over and off the top of her. Katie groaned as her head bounced off the inside of her metal helmet and hadn’t even had chance to right herself when suddenly she was lifted off her feet as Ultron’s hand crushed at the neck of her suit.

“Like I said, insect.”  He growled, his grip tightening as she raised both her palms to fire, blasting them both backwards, in opposite directions as Katie crashed into the carriage behind. She sat up and shifted the debris and shot forward, as Ultron came again but he was sent backwards as a blur knocked him off balance- the male Maximoff twin. Ultron took a menacing step forwards and the metal guards shifted red and bent in front of us in a protective manor. The female, Wanda, stood behind Ultron, hands outstretched and glowing red. Ultron turned towards her.

"Please, don’t do this.” Ultron pleaded with her.

“What choice do we have?” Wanda countered.

Ultron turned back around and fired in Steve’s direction. Katie was quicker though, pulling him out of the way as the front of the train blew out. The AI then blasted out the side door and escaped.

“We lost him!” Katie said into her coms, face plate sliding back as Steve made his way to the front of the train, reaching over the driver. “Clint, Nat He’s headed back towards you.”

“Nat we gotta go!”  Clint said.

Steve turned back to Katie, shaking his head, he could find no pulse. The driver was dead and the train was out of control heading straight for the end of the line.

“Nat… NAT? Cap you guys see Nat?” Clint questioned worriedly.

"If you have the package, get it to Stark! Go!” Steve commanded, looking up instinctively as Katie reached his side.

“Do you have eyes on Nat?" Clint questioned once again.

"Go!” Steve ordered once again and it seemed Clint obeyed because there was silence on the other side of the coms. Katie looked at him, both of them worried about our friend but equally knowing they had to tackle the problem in hand. The train crashed through the stoppers at the end of the line and carried on, heading straight through the narrow streets.

“There are civilians in our path.” Steve turned to Pietro, once more resuming command. He nodded and sped off in a blur.

“Can you stop this thing?” Katie asked Wanda. She looked unsure but nodded and blasted red tendrils down into the underlining of the train.

It began to slow, but nowhere near enough for them to avoid the building they were heading straight at. Katie slid her face plate back and Steve held his shield out in front of them, protecting them from the impact, and they felt the train starting to slow down, before it eventually came to a steady stop a moment or so later in a street lined with small trading stalls and shops.

As the passengers scrambled to get off the train Steve and Katie remained where they were for a second, Katie’s face plate once more retracting.

“You’re bleeding.” Steve said gently, wiping at her brow.

“Least I’m still here.” She shook her head. “What about Nat?”

“We’ll find her.” He took a deep breath, looking her in the eyes. “I promise.”

He slung his shield onto his back and the pair of them exited the train. Katie spotted Wanda stood next to her brother who was resting against a wall breathing heavily, hunched over with his hands on his knees. As they approached he looked up at Wanda, waving her away

“I’m fine, I just need a minute.” He assured her.

“I’m very tempted not to give you one.” Steve snapped, giving the twins a hard look. The two Maximoffs shared an uneasy glance

“The cradle? Did you get it?” Wanda asked.

“Stark will take care of it.” Steve told her, his tone still clipped.

“No he won’t.” Wanda said incredulously.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.” Katie glared at the girl

“He will do anything to make things right.” Wanda implored.

Steve turned and gave Katie a questioning look before he spoke into the coms.

“Stark come in. Stark? Anyone on coms?” The only response Steve got was silence. He looked at Katie who tried as well, getting nothing but static. She then tried to route through her phone, but there was nothing there either.

“Ultron can’t tell the difference between saving the world and destroying it.” Wanda pressed “Where do you think he got that from?”

Katie took a moment to look around, squinting against the sunlight. People were gathering, chattering in Korean and pointing at the train stretched down the middle of the road.

“I saw into his head.” Wanda implored. “I saw what he has planned. It’s not what he said, not what he told us he wanted.”

“Oh and what did he say he wanted?” Katie asked, turning back to her, her arms folding across her chest.

“He said he wanted peace” the boy, Pietro spoke.

“Oh, well…” Katie snapped, looking round nodding and clapping her gauntlet clad hands together sarcastically “Good job”

“Look…” Steve stepped forward a little before his girl lost her temper, his hands grasping the buckle on his utility belt. “This isn’t about sides, or what’s happened before. It’s about how we shut Ultron down.”

“So, what happens now?” Pietro asked.

“That depends on you.” Steve answered, putting his shield on his back, keeping his stance non-confrontational. “You’ve worked with Ultron; you know how he thinks. We could use the help stopping him.”

Wanda snarled, lips curling back over her teeth. “We won’t work with Stark.”

“Well, you kinda have two options.” Steve retorted immediately, before Katie had chance to. The authority emanating from him was immense, his eyes steady. “You work with us, or work with Ultron. Your choice.”

Katie looked up at Steve as the twins both exchanged glances. Eventually she got fed up and sighed.

“I’m going back to check on Dr Cho.” she looked at Steve “And then I’m going home to figure out how we find Nat…”

“Katie… wait…” He started towards her as she turned, making to walk off up the narrow street

“I’m done waiting Steve.” She snapped, turning to look at him. “And seeing as you don’t seem to want to give things a second’s thought, why should I?” “What’s that supposed to mean?” He frowned, running to catch up with her.

“You work with us?” She imitated his voice. “How do you know that she isn’t in our minds, right now, and this isn’t some elaborate scam to get us right where Ultron wants?”

A breeze whipped her hair slightly, and Pietro stood at Steve’s side, Wanda in his arms.

“You move too slow.” the young man taunted looking at them. “We’ll meet you at Cho’s office.”

Katie let out a loud groan of annoyance and walked and out onto the main road, looking around. Steve took a deep breath, she was angry, he knew that. His girl held a grudge, far better than he ever could and he had a feeling that Wanda Maximoff wasn’t going to get round her with a simple apology. But they didn’t have time for that, they needed to get home, find Nat and figure out Ultron’s next steps. And the Maximoffs would be helpful.

Sirens were now flooding his ears and the Emergency services were all over the place, freeing people from the cars, crashed buses, you name it.

“Could use a ride.” Steve turned to her, raising an eyebrow. She glared at him for a moment, before sliding her face plate back down. Without saying a word she gripped his harness at the top above where it held his shield and propelled them both into the air.

Dr Cho was going to be ok. Thankfully. The Scientist kindly offered them the use of her QuinJet, which technically belonged to Tony anyway, but they were grateful nonetheless. As Katie thanked the man who had led them to it, Steve turned to the Maximoff twins.

“Go on.”

Katie felt her mouth drop open as Wanda hesitated and looked to her brother who simply nodded and the two of them boarded.  Katie watched them incredulously before she rounded on Steve and he winced, awaiting the barrage which hit him full pelt.

“I can’t believe you seriously want to take them back to base.” She hissed at him.

“I told you before, they can help.” He replied calmly.

“You’re out of your mind!” Katie shook her head, the petulant child in her well and truly rearing its head “You know what actually, if they’re going, then I’m staying here.”

“For God’s sake Katie…” Steve groaned exasperatedly, running his hand through his hair, his helmet hanging in his left hand “You’re being unreasonable…”  

“I’m being unreasonable?” She rounded on him, her cheeks flushing with anger. “You’re the one who wants to take them right into the middle of our base, give them access to all our technology, when we don’t know if they’re still working for Ultron or not!”

“Katie, just get on the fucking jet now.” Steve’s voice was low, but he was angry.  He didn’t have time for this shit, he was tired, worried, and just wanted to get them all together so they could find Nat and end this and she was behaving like a total brat.

Katie looked at him, his eyes were flashing and he had a look on his face she couldn’t ever recall him using on her before. It was enough to shock her into compliance, but only after she shot him the dirtiest glare she could, before she stormed onto the jet.

Two hours later and Katie still hadn’t spoken a word to Steve or anyone else for that matter, she was fuming. Pietro and Wanda had been mostly silent up until that point, exchanging the odd bit of chatter between themselves in Sokovian, but neither approaching either of the other two until Pietro came to the cockpit.

“Miss Stark, I’m sorry, but please, do you have a spare jacket? My sister is cold.”

Katie glared at him, then looked to the back of the jet where Wanda was sat on one of the chairs, her knees pulled up to her chin. Damned it, despite everything Katie felt a small pang of pity for her.

“Sure, just give me a second.” She answered, a little gruffly but less angrily as she stood up out of her seat.

Steve had to smile, despite everything she wasn’t callous, and she knew what it was like to be cold and frightened. Katie glanced down and caught the look he was giving her and she glared at him.

“I will slap that smirk right off your face.” She threatened. Immediately he held his hands up, palms facing her in an “I’m sorry” motion and she walked over to the back of the jet and started looking in a few of the cupboards. Eventually she found a black fleece jacket, emblazoned with U-Gen logo, along with a blanket. In one of the other cupboards she found bottles of water supplies along with some snack bars and bags of chips.

“Here.” She walked over to Wanda and handed her the jacket and fleece.

“Thank you.” The teenager pulled the fleece around her.

“You hungry or need a drink?” Katie offered.

They looked at one another.

“I’m not going to poison you.” She rolled her eyes.

Wanda nodded and Katie handed her a bottle of water and Pietro took a granola bar from her and a bag of chips. Katie glanced at the twins and then suddenly had to ask the question that was on the tip of her tongue.

“Why do you hate us so much, the Avengers?” She blurted out. Steve turned his head slightly so he could listen in.

“I don’t hate the avengers. I hate you and your brother. Well I did. I don’t know maybe I still do.”

“But why?” Katie said, puzzled “You don’t know us?”

“Our home was bombed.” Wanda said, looking at her hands “It hit 2 floors below and blew a hole in our floor. Our parents fell but Pietro grabbed me and we rolled under the bed.” “The second one hits.” Pietro continued gently “But it doesn’t explode. It just sits there, three feet from our faces. And on the side of the shell is painted two words…” “Stark Industries” Katie swallowed, suddenly understanding. “You know we shut the arms side of the business down once we both realised the damage it was doing. I know that doesn’t absolve us of any guilt but…my brother is a good man, maybe he doesn’t always get it right but he tries.”

“But that is my point.” Wanda pressed “Ultron…he wants world peace, but he thinks the way to do that is to kill people, innocent people.”

“That’s not what Tony wants” Katie pressed

“But he created Ultron.” Pietro joined the conversation

“Yes, because of you!” Katie implored.

“Sorry, because of us?” “You made him see something, in Strucker’s lab. A vision, a vision that showed all of the Avengers dead, the world ending and Tony was left alone because he didn’t try hard enough to stop it.” At that point Wanda and Pietro exchanged glances as she continued “You made him believe he needed to do something, something more and Ultron was the result. He was supposed to be the thing that Tony thinks we need, something to bring peace…”

“You know, maybe we aren’t that different to Stark after all.” Pietro broke the moment or so silence that had descended. “I mean, we volunteered for HYDRA.”

“They said that they would make us super-human, like your Captain America over there.” Wanda sipped her water and Steve’s eyes flickered over the back of the jet for a moment before he turned back to the front. “Then we could fight…”

“They didn’t say what it would cost.” Pietro spat. “The experiments. The constant pain.”

“Guess we all made bad decisions for what we thought were the right reasons.” Katie shrugged “What matters now is how we fix this mess.”

With that she left them to it, taking her drink and one for Steve to the front of the jet.

“Thanks.” he said gently

“I assume you heard all that.”

“Super sensitive hearing, Doll, what can I say?” He smiled. She rolled her eyes. “You still pissed at me?” She raised her eyebrow at him, and with a teasing note chastised him. “Language.”

Steve smiled, reached over for her hand and drew it up to his face, pressing a soft kiss to her knuckles before he let go and took a drink of water, before he glanced back out of the front window of the jet.

An hour or so later they managed to get through to Clint on the coms.

“Any news on Nat?” Katie asked him.

“I’m trying the old fashioned way. That should avoid Ultron. I’ll find her”

“I don’t doubt it Hawkeye.” She smiled.

“What about Stark and the cradle?” Steve asked.

“In the lab with Banner, why you ask?”

Katie glanced at Steve, his jaw set tightly but that was the sum total of the reaction from him. He didn’t want to voice what was on his mind and risk pissing her off even more. Instead he chose his words carefully.

“Just… well, the twins told us what’s in that Cradle and Ultron’s plans for it. I’m worried Tony could start something he doesn’t understand.”  “Twins? The Maximoffs?” Clint asked and then he let out a groan “You’re bringing them here aren’t you?”

“You gotta trust me on this one, Clint.” Steve sighed “They’ve seen Ultron’s end game. They want to help us fight him.” “Yeah well I’ll make my own mind up on that one, I’ll see you when you get back.” “Great…” Katie sighed “Now he’s pissed as well.”

**** “I’m gonna say this once!” Steve’s voice was loud

“How about "nonce”?” Tony shot back.

“Shut it down!” Steve pointed at the cradle.

“Nope, not gonna happen.”  Tony shook his head.

There had been a bit of a fight in the lab, shields being flung, repulsors fired, and then Thor had turned up, supercharged the cradle, and it had gotten even stranger when a red man, an android had emerged.

“I’m sorry,” he said sincerely, in JARVIS’ voice “That was, odd. Thank you.” He added nodding respectfully to Thor, before his unnervingly human-looking eyes trailed over Thor thoughtfully. Then he rolled his shoulders and a cape of his own appeared and flowed down his back.

“Thor, you helped create this?” Steve asked

“I’ve had a vision, the world, where it starts, all hope and life and at its centre, is that.” Thor responded pointing to the gold stone in the middle of the man’s forehead.

“What the gem?” Banner asked in confusion. Thor nodded.

“It’s the mindstone,” He explained. “One of the six infinity stones, the greatest power in the universe and it is unparalleled in its destructive capabilities.”

“Then why would you bring it to life?” Katie asked, taking a deep breath, folding her arms.

“Because Stark is right.” Thor said.

“Oh, it’s definitely the end of times.” Bruce sarcastically to Tony’s shocked but proud expression.

“The Avengers cannot defeat Ultron.” Thor continued and the red man politely cut in.

“Not alone.”

“Why does your vision sound like JARVIS?” Katie questioned still cautious of this new being.

“We reconfigured Jarvis’ matrix, to create something new.” Tony walked up towards his masterpiece and examined him.

“I think I’ve had my fill of new.” Steve replied sarcastically.

“You think I am a child of Ultron.” The red man stated rather than asked.

“You’re not?” Steve replied suspiciously still glaring.

“I am not Ultron.” He answered simply. “I am not JARVIS. I am…” He looked down at his hands as if they would hold the answer.

“I looked in your head,” Wanda stated stepping towards him. “I saw annihilation.”

“Look again.” Vision responded in the same simple tone.

“Ha, her seal of approval means jack to me.” Clint snorted, Katie found herself inclined to agree.

“Their powers, the horrors in our heads, Ultron himself, they all came from the mindstone.” Thor said, looking round “And that is nothing compared to what it could unleash, but with it on our side-”

“Is it?” Steve cut Thor off then turned aiming his next question at him towards the red man, needing to hear confirmation “Are you, on our side?”

“I don’t think it’s that simple.” Vision answered truthfully.

“Well it better get real simple real soon.” Clint said seriously.

“I am on the side of life,” Vision continued, “Ultron isn’t, he will end it all.”

“What’s he waiting for?” Tony asked.

“You.” He stated easily, looking around at us all.

“Where?” Katie pressed.

“Sokovia.” Clint supplied helpfully. “Yeah, he’s got Nat there too.”

Katie looked at Clint who raised his eyebrow slightly and he shrugged. He’d found her, just like he said.

“If we’re wrong about you,” Bruce said approaching the man. “If you’re the monster Ultron created you to be…”

“What will you do?” The red man asked and Bruce stayed silent.

“I don’t want to kill Ultron, he is unique, and he’s in pain,” Vision paced slowly around the room, “but that pain will roll over the earth, so he must be destroyed. Every form he’s built, every trace and presence of him. We have to act now. And not one of us can do it without the other.”

He turned back to look at everyone in the room individually, then he did something completely unexpected as he picked up Thor’s hammer from the table. Steve felt his eyebrows raise in shock whereas Katie was looking at Thor, her mouth open, the god was wearing a look of utter confusion.

“There may be no way to make you trust me, but we need to go.” Vision finished holding out the hammer for Thor to take. Thor took his weapon back and the man walked away.

There was a moment of silence before Thor coughed.

“Right, well done.” he said awkwardly patting Tony on the shoulder and followed the red man out of the room.

“Three minutes, get what you need.” Steve announced.

**** Chapter 24 Part 2

#stark spangled banner #steve rogers #steve rogers x ofc #steve rogers x original female character #steve rogers fic #Katie Stark #mcu #mcu fanfic #the avengers #chris evans #chris evans characters

[krabmeat]

𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚝𝚗𝚎𝚛𝚜 𝚒𝚗 𝚌𝚛𝚒𝚖𝚎?

𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚊𝚌𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚜: c!Quackity, c!Techno, c!Tommy, c!Tubbo, c!Schlatt 𝚝𝚛𝚒𝚐𝚐𝚎𝚛 𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜: violence, fighting, threats, weapons, panic attack, manipulation, yelling

𝚊𝚞𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚛𝚜 𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚎:

another lore fic for my dsmp persona, this wasnt a request just something i wanted to post! enjoy! :]

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

CLANG! CLANG! CLANG!

The molten and glowing netherite dented into the ideal shape that Krabs had in mind. Currently she was in her smithy at home working on a dozen netherite tipped arrows. She hadn’t tried making arrows before but when Techno asked her for a commission for it, how hard could it be, right? By the looks of it, it seems to be turning out well. She managed to make a strong, dense metal fit the characteristic requirements of an arrow that should be light and steady.

On about her 5th one, 4 steady knocks come from her door. 

‘I’m not expecting anyone today…?’

The same knocks rumble from the spruce wood. Krabs puts down her welding tools and goes to put on her worn and ripped navy trench coat. 

“Yeah, hold up! I’ll be there real quick!”

Grabbing Axe My Beloved and heading for the door, she places her weapon next to the door out of view in case she needs to use it at all. Opening the door, she realizes she needs her weapon in her hands once she sees the man on the other side.

“Ah, Krabs! Just the lady I wanted to see!”

Krabs furrows her brow and gets in a defensive position, grabbing Axe My Beloved and holding it in front of her.

“Why are you here? How the hell did you get past the forest and what do you want?”

Her words are like venom, the hostility practically oozing out of her body. Quackity takes a casual step back and holds his hands up in surrender.

“Relax, relax! I’m not here to hurt you, maybe- just here to discuss some…business.”

He can see the confusion on Krabs’ face along with how dumb she thinks he’s being. Deciding to humor his request, she pretends to think about what he said and acts like she’s taking it into consideration before dropping her expressions that made Quackity hopeful.

“I don’t think you see how much of a contradicting dumba$$ you sound like right now. We have nothing to discuss so get off my property, you’ll lower the property value.”

She walks away and waits for the door to slam shut after swinging it closed, but it never happens. Instead the door is met with Quackity’s foot as he opens it and lets himself in without warning. Krabs turns around and he’s already right behind her.

“What the- QUACKITY WHAT THE F*CK?! GET OUT!”

Krabs swings her axe at Quackity, making them easily dodgeable as to not hurt him but more so to scare him away. 

“Well you let other people talk to you about what’s on their mind! Cmonnn, how is this any different?”

“Man, I have no clue! It couldn’t possibly be because you always want me dead whenever I see you! You tell me Quackity, why is it any different?” Krabs says.

He then gets a small smirk grazed across his lips. He knows that she’s being sarcastic, but pretends to play dumb.

“I have no idea what you're talking about! You're really just gonna ignore someone who needs to talk to you? Wow...I thought you were better than this.”

Krabs stops and rolls her eyes, sighing as she walks to a door expecting Quackity to keep up, which he does.

“Leave all your weapons outside the room. I’m keeping mine next to my chair because I still don’t trust you but other than that I won’t have any weapons either. This is the best you’ll get from me.”

The room contains 2 small navy couches across from each other, 3 black leather stools along the wall and a small coffee table between the 2 couches. A big window with open, white shutters is on the right wall and the rest of the walls are a plain grey tone. Sure enough, Krabs grabs a stool and sits down after leaning Axe My Beloved against it while instructing Quackity to sit wherever he wants after he places his weapons outside the door. They are both seated when Krabs nods at Quackity, signaling him to start speaking.

“Well it looks like you’ve got a nice place here! I have to say, I saw some of the weapons you’ve made in your workshop and your work is amazing!”

He’s seated on the couch, looking around at the small room and taking it all in. He can sense the uneasiness from Krabs and it makes him smile.

“Yeah...I was working on a new commission before you came knocking at my door. Some netherite tipped arrows for Techno.”

Krabs starts fidgeting with her hands, scratching her thumb against her index finger. She’s reluctant to make eye contact with the scarred man in front of her. She knows he’s staring her down and it makes her wanna shrink down into her seat, but she won’t. Looking vulnerable isn't exactly up her alley, so she takes on a more casual look but still avoids eye contact.

“Hm...look, we’re both busy people so I’ll cut to the chase. I’m sure you've heard of the new country I’m starting up, Las Nevadas. Everything’s built, there’s a bunch of casinos and it’ll be one of the most economically prosperous places you’ll ever see. I’m asking you to join my country Krabs. Join me.”

“Um...excuse me, what? Out of all people, you’re asking me to join your country? Man, how desperate are you? Of course I’m not joining! Let alone a country led by you, Quackity.”

Quackity tilts his head to the side in amusement as if he was expecting this response. Which he was. He’s not surprised that she reacted that way. I mean, one of your worst enemies who’s always out for your throat asking to stand side by side with you? That’s practically asking to be labeled as suspicious!

“You’re still holding onto the past, I see. Krabs, you need to stop looking back. L’manburg is f*cking gone and there’s nothing we can do about it. I don’t care anymore that you helped blow it up because I moved on. You should too.”

Krabs lets out a long, aggravated sigh and tightly clenches her hands together to relieve pressure.

“Maybe if you would take the f*cking time to listen for once, our sh*t could have been resolved a long time ago! I tried telling you why I had to help build the detonator but YOU decided to not let me speak and instead shoved me to the damn ground and made stupid false accusations. Why the hell do you think Tommy isn’t mad at me for helping? Or Tubbo? Because they had the common sense to let me EXPLAIN, QUACKITY! Our issues with each other are all on you, so quit trying to shove it all down my throat. Either way, I’m not gonna join you. I’m not Techno, Quackity. I don’t team with my enemies, you’ll just stab me in the back later.”

“Your ‘reasoning’ for why you helped is for another chat. It’s funny how you bring up Technoblade, though. You guys seem to work with each other a lot, right? I mean, he trusts you enough to let you live in the same area as him! But...what else is there to you?”

“Hm, well as you know I’m a welder, builder, blacksmith, redstone intelligent, pretty good at PVP and the general therapist of the Dream SMP. I also have my fair share in historical events, so there’s quite a bit to me actually.”

A long sigh and a slow head shake of disapproval comes from Quackity. 

“And yet, you’re still as significant as a grain of sand.”

Krabs doesn’t get offended or angry, but rather curious and suspicious. Her eyes squint at him, tilting her head slightly to the side waiting for him to continue.

“Krabs, what word have you built for yourself? What title? ‘The Laborer’? ‘The Therapist’? You block out everyone from yourself, you’ve made yourself dull and boring. You have nothing to hide if you join me, Krabs. You’ll be someone!”

“Did you just completely ignore everything I just said?”

She finally looks up at Quackity, squinting at him. Accepting his request to chat is something she regrets now.

“I’m not ignoring anything, I’m telling you the cold hard truth. All of the sh*t you’ve been a part of was never you. All you are is an asset to peoples victory, and since you jump around so much your help isn’t as respected anymore as it used to be! You’re just Technoblades assistant. You’re just Tommy’s assistant. You’re just your ‘fathers’ assistant. And sooner or later they’ll realize your worth and drop you. They’re going to leave you, Krabs.”

The last phrase sends chills of anxiety and paranoia down Krabs’ spine. Was that really true? I mean, she had always known that she was less than her friends but pushing those kinds of thoughts away were a normally practiced thing for her. Her vicious shaking proved why she always tried to shove away the thought. Tears threatened to dump from her eyes as she downcasted her gaze to try and hide her sorrow, her breaths shallow and shaky. 

“Shut the f*ck up…”

Quackity is a bit taken aback by her current state, but quickly tries to recover and recoil with an answer.

“It’s not my fault you’re too much of a p*ssy to-“

“I SAID SHUT THE F*CK UP! SO F*CKING HELP ME QUACKITY IF YOU SAY ANOTHER WORD I WILL NOT HESITATE TO SLICE YOUR TORSO IN HALF-“

Krabs’ yells, sobs, and threats choke to a stop as her neck is held at knife point with her axe kicked away from her reach by Quackity.

“Try to kill me and I’ll slit your throat right here with your own f*cking finger, Krabs.”

Both of them know what he means by that. He snuck in the knife he made after chopping one of Krabs’ iron fingers a while ago. She welded a new one back, but he got it made into a pocket knife just to spite her. And now here she is, being threatened with her own material. Her head is tilted upwards exposing her neck more but not wanting the knife to be in more contact with her skin. It feels like time stands still for a couple of seconds. With Krabs trying to fully process the situation while also trying to not look as weak and shattered as she does, and Quackity feeling both prideful yet slightly shocked that he has one of his longtime enemies finally backed up into a corner. Tears are running down Krabs’ cheeks but she can't wipe them away in fear of the blade being pushed further into her skin. But the silence gives her time to calm down and recoil.

“So, you're gonna take a life? Go ahead. Attack when your opponent is at their weakest, like always. Pathetic. Killing me wouldn't do anything, it would be a dishonorable kill and you would lose a precious member of Las Nevadas.”

His thoughts linger on the first part of what she said, when he realizes the last part. The knife hesitates and releases pressure from Krabs’ skin, giving her the chance to slowly back away from the knife. Once she's leaned back into the stool enough, Krabs dives for her axe but Quackity reacts before she can get to it and slams her stomach into the wall harshly with his shoulder. He crouches down in front of her aching body as she hisses in pain, cradling her stomach with her right arm.

“This is a dangerous f*cking game you're playing here, Krabs. Repeat that last thing you said.”

But no words come out of her mouth. They're all stuck in her mind. Her eyes are squeezed shut and hard breaths are escaping her nose. The words in her mind are ping-ponging all over the place and it feels like everything is both in and out of her grasp. Both her thoughts and her body are shaking- she's having a panic attack. An event that Quackity is all too familiar with from his Manburg days. The way Schlatt was like during their partnership in running Manburg, the abuse was both mental and physical so panic attacks aren't a foreign thing for Quackity. After he realizes this, he waits. Obviously he's not the person to help Krabs with this, and he doesn't think she would want help from him after what he did, so he lets her calm down on her own before engaging in a preferably more calm conversation.

“Are you able to listen to me now?”

A genuine question, no sarcasm, annoyance or malice laced in between. Krabs nods her head while keeping her gaze on the spruce floor in front of her. Quackity takes on a less menacing tone and instead speaks casually to not bring attention to Krabs’ current state, as well as to make things easier and less tense.

“Look, I heard you say something that hinted you were joining me. Were you telling the truth?”

Krabs takes a deep breath. Her voice is quiet and raspy, but she manages to mumble out a response.

“Admittedly, I said that to throw you off guard…”

Quackity chuckles quietly. Of course she would do that, how did he not realize? Still though, he's gotta admit it was pretty clever. 

“You’re really hard to convince, aren't you?”

“Considering I'm your enemy, of course I'm gonna be difficult.”

“Well, then how about we make a bet for it then? It is a casino dependent nation, after all.”

Krabs looks up at Quackity, her eyes bloodshot but still wanting to know more of this bet Quackity has in mind. Her right eyebrow raises in wonder.

“We duel. If I win, you join me in Las Nevadas and capitalize off of the plot of land I'll be giving you. As well as pledging loyalty to the nation, following our laws, etc etc.”

“And if I win?”

“Straight to the point I see! If you win...not only will you not have to join Las Nevadas, you will also have immediate connections to me- the owner of the nation- if you ever get into any sh*t and you won’t need to owe anything in return, and I'll also keep the little episode you just had completely under wraps. Deal?”

Quackity holds out his hand to Krabs, waiting for her to seal the deal. She stares at his hand, thinking about the offer.

‘Seems fair enough…wouldn't want news spilling out anyways.’

“Hm, deal. When is this duel of yours taking place, and where? What are the rules?”

She shakes his hand then lets go, listening closely.

“It'll be in The Needle in Las Nevadas in about an hour or so. Bring as many weapons or materials as you wish, but no armor to make things more interesting. The first one to put down their weapon and surrender loses the bet,”

He gets up from his crouched position and heads for the door. 

“See ya in about an hour, Krabs. Start preparing! I know I will.

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

Krabs looks down at the small piece of paper with the coordinates sloppily written on it. Quackity had placed it on her workbench before leaving, so she followed it after packing everything she thought she needed. A huge red and white sign stood proudly next to the concrete walkway.

Las Nevadas

read the sign. This was the place, she knew it. Not only from the obnoxiously bright sign, but also because of the golden winged man sitting just below the sign. Krabs whistles at Quackity, causing him to spot her walking towards him.

“Alright then, let's make this quick. Follow me, we're going to The Needle.”

To say the country was impressive was an understatement. Casinos, food joints, gathering places scattered all across the roads. The sun started to slowly set about a minute ago, making everything a beautiful golden orange hue. Krabs keeps her comments to herself, but looks around in wonder. She hadn't seen such a beautiful place ever since before the detonation of L’manburg. Krabs didn't say anything, but Quackity could see the look of amazement on her face and felt his ego boost a bit.

“Yknow, we don't even have to fight if you already like it here-!”

“Now who said anything about that?”

The elevator dings, and the two exit the small glass room into the highest and most spacious level of The Needle. The view is like nothing Krabs has ever seen before. The sky started taking on a darker hue, meaning that lights were being turned on throughout the country. And man, what a sight it was. 

“So, are you ready?”

She snaps out of her trance, only to be met with Quackity standing in a fighting position on the other side of the room, sword in hand with potion effects floating around him. Krabs nods and proceeds to take out Axe My Beloved and eats a gapple. 

And with that, the duel starts. Quackity is first to react, lunging at Krabs and slicing his sword at her. A swift move to the left and she evaded the attack and hacks her axe into Quackity’s torso. Dislodging it, blood drips from her weapon, yet he hasn't dropped. Instead, his skin has woven back together leaving not a scar behind, only a tear in his shirt. Time feels slow but is moving fast when their weapons strike each other, they both reposition their weapons to a flatter angle to try and shove the other away. 5 distinct seconds are gone, Quackity takes a potion from his inventory and quickly down the bottle, smashing the empty glass to the side while overpowering Krabs with one hand on his sword. 

‘Regeneration and strength potions…’

Quackity managed to push her to the ground on her back, his sword striking against her axe she's using to block. His strength potion hasn't worn out yet so his sword is getting closer and closer to Krabs’ neck before she swipes her foot at his legs, making him fall over but getting a light cut on her arm.

Both of them are breathing heavily. Quackity’s regeneration potion has worn off but his strength potion hasn't. It's become clear to Krabs that he's relying on potions to win, which is perfect for what she's been saving. Clang after clang from blocked attacks, they've been going at each other for a good 10 minutes now when suddenly Quackity disappears after downing another bottle.

‘That f-cker had an invisibility potion!!’

His steps are quiet and he's making no noise, making things almost impossible to locate him. Krabs orbits around the center of the room, being cautious of any noise she hears or any potion effects she spots. Her eyes catch the familiar colorful potion effects rushing for her, she takes out a splash potion bottle filled with milk and smashes it in the general area of the potion effects. She wasn't sure if this experiment was gonna work, so she was surprised when all of the potion effects Quackity had wore off immediately, making him both visible and weaker. His sword gets a few inches stuck in Krabs’ metal arm that she had used to block herself with. It's wedged in enough that Krabs can yank the sword away from his grasp, dislodge the sword from her arm and throw it out the window. Glittering, clear shards scatter everywhere, and Quackity has been disarmed. The perfect opportunity open to her, Krabs rushes Quackity, holding her axe to his chest. The only thing behind him is the velvety sky, a cool breeze dancing through the few hairs exposed from under his beanie. 

“Well, this has been a good fight! But you should have been more precautious, after all-”

For what seems to be the millionth time, he downs a potion from his inventory and tosses the bottle out of the already shattered window.

“-I am a gambler!”

He leans back into the night sky. Krabs expected an immediate death until she saw him slowly float down from the top of the building, laughing in overwhelming pride and satisfaction- he got away.

“HAH! GOOD FIGHT KRABS, BUT I HAVE A COUNTRY TO RUN AND I CAN’T RUN IT IF I’M DEAD! THE OFFERS STILL OPEN THOUGH, HIT ME UP IF YOU WANT THAT PLOT OF LAND!”

Quackity’s feet softly hit the ground, picking up his sword and walking away from the building with his own little victory. Krabs scoffs as he walks away, but not in pure hatred or anger. More so amused. Maybe she would just take the plot of land. What could go wrong, right?

[tlatollotl]

As told to Scientific American

When a family member dies, we the Diné, whom Spanish conquistadors named the Navajo, send a notice to our local radio station so that everyone in the community can know. Usually the reading of the death notices—the names of those who have passed on, their ages, where they lived and the names of their matrilineal and patrilineal clans—takes no more than five minutes. It used to be very rare to hear about young people dying. But this past week, I listened to 45 minutes of death notices on KGAK Radio AM 1330. The ages ranged from 26 to 89, with most of the dead having been in their 30s, 40s or 50s.

I am in shock. The virus entered our community in March, through a Nazarene Christian revival in Arizona. They brought in vanloads and busloads of people from across the Navajo Nation for the gathering; then all those vans and buses returned them to their respective communities, along with the virus. There were immediate deaths because the medical facilities were not ready for it. More than 300 Navajos have already died of COVID-19, and the disease is still spreading.

I am a Diné storyteller and keeper of traditions. I live alone in a hogan, a traditional octagonal log house, in Chi Chil Tah, meaning “Where the Oaks Grow,” after the Gambel oaks indigenous to this region. Officially known as Vanderwagen, the community lies 23 miles south of Gallup, N.M.. The pandemic reached the area in late April. On May 1, the governor of New Mexico evoked the riot act to block off all exits into Gallup to stop the spread of the virus, and only residents could get in. The lockdown extended to May 11. It was not so bad the first week, but then we started to run out of food and water.

The groundwater in parts of Vanderwagen is naturally contaminated with arsenic and uranium; in any case, few of us have the money to drill a well. Normally, my brothers and my nephew haul water in 250-gallon tanks that are in the back of a pickup truck. At Gallup they have a high-powered well; you pay $5 in coins, put the hose in your tank and fill it up. You haul that home, dump that into your cistern, and you have water in your house. Without access to Gallup, people began to run out of water—even as we were being told to wash our hands frequently.

My hogan has electricity but no running water. My brothers bring me water, and they put it in a 75-gallon barrel. I drink that water, and I wash with it, but I also buy five gallons of water for $5, in case I need extra. I typically use a gallon of water a day, for everything—cooking, drinking and washing up. My great-grandmother used to say, “Don’t get used to drinking water, because one of these days you’re going to be fighting for it.” I have learned to live on very little.

We have a lot of cancers in our community, perhaps because of the uranium. And we have many other health issues that I think makes this virus so viable among us. We have a lot of diabetes, because we do not eat well, and a lot of heart disease. We have alcoholism. We have high rates of suicide. We have every social ill you can think of, and COVID has made these vulnerabilities more apparent. I look at it as a monster that is feasting on us—because we have built the perfect human for it to invade.

Days after Gallup reopened, I drove there to mail a letter. Every fast-food establishment—McDonald’s, Kentucky Fried Chicken, Wendy’s, Burger King, Panda Express, Taco Bell, they’re all located on one strip—had long, long lines of cars waiting at their drive-throughs. This in a community with such high rates of diabetes. Perhaps there wasn’t any food available in the very small stores located in their communities, but I also think this pandemic has triggered a lot of emotional responses that are normally hidden. On the highway to Vanderwagen, there is a convenience store where they sell liquor. And the parking lot was completely full, everybody was just buying and buying liquor. There is a sense of anxiety and panic, but I also think that a lot of Navajo people don’t know how to be with themselves, because there isn’t a really good, rounded, spiritual practice of any sort to anchor them.

COVID is revealing what happens when you displace a people from their roots. Take a Diné teenager. She can dress Navajo, but she has no language or culture or belief system that tells her what it means to be Diné. Her grandmother was taken away at the age of five to a BIA (Bureau of Indian Affairs) boarding school and kept there until she was 18. At school, they taught her that her culture and her spiritual practice were of the devil and that she needed to completely deny them. Her language was not valid: “You have a Navajo accent; you must speak English more perfectly.” Same happened to her mother. Our languages were lost, the culture and traditional practices were gone. That was also when spankings and beatings entered Diné culture. Those kids endured those horrible ways of being disciplined in the BIA schools, and that became how they disciplined their own children.

I meet kids like this all the time—who don’t know who they are. For 35 years I have been trying to tell them, you come from a beautiful culture. You come from one of hundreds of tribes who were thriving in the Americas when Columbus arrived; we had a viable political and economic system that was based on spiritual practices tied to the land. Some 500 years ago, Spanish conquistadors came up the Rio Grande into North America in search of gold. They were armed with the Doctrine of Discovery, a fearful legal document issued by the Pope that sanctioned the colonization of non-Christian territories. Then in the mid-1800s, the pioneers came from the East Coast with their belief in Manifest Destiny, their moral right to colonize the land. As their wagons moved west, the Plains Indians were moved out and put on reservations. When your spiritual practice is based on the land you’re living on, and you’re being herded away from what somebody else would call her temple, or mosque, or church, or cathedral—that’s the first place your spirituality is attacked.

My great-great-great-great-grandfather on my father’s side was captured and taken on what we call the Long Walk to Fort Sumner. Initially about 10,000 Diné were rounded up, and many died on that walk, which took weeks or months, depending on the route on which they were taken. They were imprisoned for four years at Fort Sumner, and released in 1868, because of the Civil War. At about the same time, my great-great-great-great-grandfather on my mother’s side escaped from Colonel Kit Carson at Canyon de Chelly and traveled north with his goats. He came back down to this area at just about the time my great-great-great-great-grandmother escaped Spanish slavery. Slavery was introduced here by the Spanish—that’s never talked about. The children born at Fort Sumner were taken into Spanish families, to be slaves.

We had the Spanish flu in the 1920s, one of many viruses to invade our community. Then in the 1930s there was the Great Depression. We didn’t know that was happening: we did not have money, but we had wealth in the form of sheep. And the government came in and killed our sheep in the Stock Reduction Program. They said the sheep were eroding the land, but I think they did it because the sheep made us self-sufficient, and they couldn’t allow that. We had spiritual practices around our sheep. Every time we developed self-sufficiency and a viable spiritual practice, they destroyed it. My mother said they dug deep trenches, herded the sheep and massacred them.

A tuberculosis epidemic in the 1940s took away my mother's parents. My great-grandmother, a healer and herbalist, had hidden my mother from the government agents who snatched Diné kids to put them into BIA boarding schools. My mother became a rancher, a prolific weaver, a beautiful woman who spoke the language. She did not speak much English. She died at 96; my great-grandmother died at 104. Now, in our community in Chi Chil Tah, there are no more traditional healers; the oldest person is my great-grand-aunt, who is 78. I am the only traditional Diné storyteller.  

Now that we are talking about issues of race in America, we need to also talk about the Native American tribes that were displaced. There is a reservation in upstate New York of the Iroquois people—all of 21 square miles. How much land were the Iroquois originally living on? Who was living in what is now Massachusetts? What about Pennsylvania? What about all the states under the umbrella of the United States? Whose land are you occupying? Abraham Lincoln ordered the massacre of 38 Dakota men the day after Christmas, the same week he signed the Emancipation Proclamation; they call him Honest Abe. They don’t talk about the dark side of things, and I think that is what COVID has revealed—the dark side. We see a police officer putting his full body weight on the neck of a black man. And suddenly everybody goes, Wow! What have we evolved to?

It seems to me that COVID has revealed a lot of truths, everywhere in the world. If we were ignorant of the truth, it is now revealed; if we were ignoring the truth, it is now revealed. This truth is the disparity: of health, wellbeing and human value. And now that the truth has been revealed, what are we going to do about it?

#native american #Diné #new mexico #navajo #covid-19 #coronavirus

[evabellasworld]

Storm of the Republic

Chapter 9

AO3 Link | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9

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Summary:  When Tup murdered General Tiplar during a battle, Anakin Skywalker and Captain Rex dispatched Ahsoka, Fives, and Yara to solve the mystery that was plaguing the Clone Army. Meanwhile, Senator Padme Amidala contacted Commander Fox, Commander Tori, Riyo Chuchi, and Dipper to help her continue investigating the death of Palpatine, suspecting that Dooku was behind the evil plot. But when Dooku send an ISB agent to stop them, the team had to race against time to search for the truth, which could alter the course of the galaxy.

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Jumping out of hyperspace, the 212th Attack Battalion and Coruscant Guards have arrived at the planet Horuca. Led by General Obi-Wan Kenobi and Commander Thire, respectively, both the battalions were armed to the teeth, prepared to take down their enemies.

Horuca was a planet which was surrounded with colourful plants and mountains on the surface. Similar to a tropical jungle, the rainforest was thick and was surrounded with fog, showing that it was raining cats and dogs.

The ocean surrounding the planet was pastel pink, but thanks to the dark purple clouds in the sky, the water looked rough to swim or catch some fishes in the sea. But Marshal Commander Cody doesn’t let it stop them from fighting.

To him, the heavy rain gave an advantage for them to hide themselves from the Imperial battle droids, which weren’t equipped for this kind of weather. Still, that doesn’t mean the Empire wouldn’t send aqua droids after them.

“Alright men,” he spoke, catching the attention of his troops. “In a few minutes, we will land in the shallow part of the beach. Make sure you get into position. We don’t want to leave anyone behind.”

“Yes, sir,” the 212th answered in unison. Faven put on her helmet as she took a deep breath, hoping she would die in this battle.

“You seemed down,” Boil pointed out, making her face him with her unimpressed stare. “Is everything alright?”

“Who wouldn’t be down, Boil? For all we know, this could be my last mission in the war.”

“Hey, come on. Aren’t you supposed to be cheerful right now?”

“How can I, when Amala is not here anymore?”

Boil was speechless. He knows who Faven was referring to. Both of them were close since the Second Battle of Geonosis. They didn’t know each other on Kamino, but it didn’t matter to her.

Faven blamed herself when she watched Amala killed in the trenches. It happened so fast. One moment, she was firing against the battle droids. The next thing she knew, her best friend was lying on the ground, blood spilling from her helmet.

I miss her so much; she thought about her. I wish I could see her again.

“I’m really sorry, Fav,” Boil sympathised with her. “It’s difficult coping with someone’s death, especially when they’re close to you.”

She bobbed her head and turned to her brother. “I’m sorry about Waxer too. He was a great guy.”

“Yeah, Waxer,” his voice quivered, before clearing his throat. “Well, at least he’s in a better place now. Somewhere peaceful, where there are flowers everywhere.”

Faven smiled. “Waxer always loved flowers, especially the yellow ones. And I’m sure Amala is there with him too, carrying a bunch of rabbits in her arms.”

Boil chuckled as he put on his helmet, agreeing with every word she said. “We should get moving. We don’t want to be left behind.”

“Right beside you,” she gave a small salute, as she stood in front of Obi-Wan, who gave her a warm smile.

“Good luck, all of you,” he wished them. “May the Force be with all of us.”

The trap door opened below them, with the icy wind blowing towards them. Taking a deep breath, Faven and Boil exchanged a look of determination with each other and jumped towards the pink ocean.

Holding her breath, she quickly swam towards the surface and exhaled, wiping the surface of her helmet. Glancing at the rings in the rainy lavender sky, Faven stared at the beauty above her. Amala would have loved this place.

Commander Cody and Obi-Wan were the last ones to join them, along with the Corrie Guards, with Commander Thire and Commander Stone leading them. “Is everyone accounted for?” Cody asked, counting all of his troops present.

“We’re all here, Commander,” Crys reported.

“Thire, Stone, are all your troops present?”

“They’re all here, Cody,” Thire informed him. “Though I wish Fox and Thorn were here with us right now.”

“We can’t all have everything. Now come on, Team B is counting on us.”

“Yes, sir,” Hyewon saluted respectfully, marching beside her brothers and sisters.

Since she survived the Battle of Coruscant, the Corrie Guard is determined to prove her worth on the battlefield, where she had no experiences at all. Hyewon may have trained in a simulation, but when she was shipped off to Coruscant, she didn’t get the chance to fight battle droids like the rest of them.

Instead, she had to deal with prisoners who caused nothing but stress. There are prisoners who were decent with her, and there are prisoners who made a mess for her to clean up.

Hyewon pitied the ones who were in jail for something they’ve never done, and she also felt sorry for prisoners who were only there for self-defence. She thought they deserved better, and the Republic had failed them. I hope they’re okay.

As they approached closer to the island, Obi-Wan sensed something unusual in his surroundings, prompting the troops to stop in their tracks. “Be on guard,” he advised them, gesturing towards the rocks. “We may be watched.”

“You heard the general,” Cody barked. “Stay hidden behind those rocks. Our enemy might be closer than you think.”

Hyewon nodded as she hid beside Boil and Faven, who she never interacted with till today. “I hope you don’t mind me joining you both. All my friends died on Coruscant.”

“Don’t mind at all,” Faven offered her hand. “I’m Faven, by the way. This is Boil. We went all the way back to Kamino.”

“Pleasure to meet you,” she shook her hands. “I’m Hyewon, from the Coruscant Guard. I was discharged from a coma a few days ago, so this is my first time on the battlefield.”

“I have faith that you’ll survive this,” Boil encouraged her. “Trust me, you’ll do great out there.”

Thire saw the three of them having an animated conversation with each other and tossed her a binoculars, making her attentive. “I understand you want to catch up with what you’ve missed, but please pay attention. We’re at war right now.”

“Sorry, sir,” apologised Hyewon, as she scanned the entire area, which was suspiciously empty. “But where are our enemies, anyway? I don’t see anybody in my scope. Not even a single soul, Commander.”

“It’s strange for the Empire to sneak around, but we’ll have to be patient,” Stone said. “It’s one of our best options right now.”

“That sounds boring,” Harley expressed her opinion, expecting more fun for her. “I came here for some action, not to wait the entire day long.”

Cody couldn’t agree more with his subordinates. The wait made him more anxious, aware that this wasn’t what the Empire was like. Out of countless battles he fought against them, the droids aren’t like this. Something is up. I can feel it in my gut.

“General, what do we do?” he asked the Jedi Master. “We can’t go on like this. Team B is waiting for us.”

“I have an idea.”

Stroking his beard, Obi-Wan stood up and climbed on the rock, crossing his legs in meditation. As he closed his eyes, he reached through the Force and levitated the rock towards the mangrove, causing the battle droids to pop out from their hiding spot.

“There they are,” Obi-Wan pointed out, activating his lightsaber. “Everyone, get into position.”

“Sir, yes, sir,” Thire responded, turning towards his troops. “Come on, blast those clankers.”

”I’m happy to do that,” Stone laughed as he opened fire. “Eat that, you fucking clankers.”

Hyewon’s eyes widened as she saw Boil and Faven blasting the droids with their blasters, listening to the sound of blasters firing against each other for the first time. She wasn’t used to all of this, but luckily, she can adapt to a new environment. Well, this seems more fun than babysitting a bunch of prisoners.

Gripping on her weapon, she shot down a SBD in front of her, making her pulse run. She had training in shooting, but she hardly had the chance to utilise her skills, until today. Shooting another droid, Hyewon couldn’t contain her excitement as she repeated her actions again and again. “Okay, is anyone going to tell me that this feels good, or am I the only one?”

“You’re not the only one,” Boil shared his feeling. “Wait until you have to deal with the bigger droids. That one is an immense challenge, even for me.”

“I can’t wait for that.”

If only she knew the genuine horror that comes with it, Faven sighed.

Stone stepped forwards and gunned down the B1 units with his twin pistols, not missing a single aim at all. Jek continuously fired with his favourite weapon, the rotary blaster, destroying every droid single handedly. He never had this much fun since accompanying Master Yoda on the moon of Rugosa.

As the B1 were cleared from the field, Cody spotted the Super Battle Droids heading towards their position, making him signal towards Boil, Faven, and Hyewon. “You three, get over here.”

Hyewon let out a soft gasp. “Are we in trouble?”

“No, we’re not,” Boil calmed her down, dragging her towards her commanding officer. “What do you need, commander?”

“Take these to the other side of the line,” Cody passed them a box full of ammunition and supplies. “These are important for all of us here. Understood?”

“Yes, sir,” Faven acknowledged. “We won’t let you down.”

“Good luck out there. You’re gonna need it.”

Together, the trio took a deep breath together and counted to three, lifting the long box with their bare hands. They had their armour on, but Hyewon wasn’t sure whether they were going to last this long. She didn’t think it would be this intense.

Watching her comrades getting shot to the ground, she was horrified at the sight of blood soaked on the soft sand beneath her. Some of their helmets were separated from their heads, revealing a horrifying face that stood out. Hyewon noticed one of her sisters was coughing out blood, desperately fighting for the will to breathe.

Is this what war is like? Hyewon questioned herself, realizing the truth. I don’t want to die like this.

Thire shifted his attention to Harley, who was killing the droids with her sniper. Trained as an assassin clone, she could kill without hesitation, which was hardly utilised until they fled to Raxus. She was stuck as a call operator for three years, dealing with obnoxious citizens that abused their services. Harley’s grateful she doesn’t have to do that anymore.

“Harley, I need your help,” the commander requested for her assistance, much to her satisfaction.

“What is it, boss?” she jumped in excitement.

“I need you to go rogue right now. It’s what you’re good at.”

“Easy-peasy lemon greasy,” Harley squealed loudly as she grabbed a couple of explosives and sprinted towards the excitement, releasing a war cry. The rest of the troopers who observed her crazy act did the same as well by joining her antics.

Cody could only blink in confusion as one of the Corrie Guards bombed the barbed wires that shielded the Imperial army without getting shot. The rest of them followed suit by infiltrating through the trench, ambushing the droid army. “I have a bad feeling about this.”

“Doesn’t matter,” Thire assured him. “We’re doing what we can to divert their attention towards our scouts. They’re the ones carrying our supplies.”

“Speaking of Team B,” Obi-Wan joined in their conversations, deflecting the blasts. “Once we’re through, we need to let them know when they can land.”

“I hope they’re doing much better than us,” Stone maintained his positivity despite hearing one of his brothers screaming in pure agony. “We’ve lost a lot of lives today.”

#star wars #star wars ocs #star wars original characters #star wars fics #star wars fanfics #star wars fanfictions #anakin skywalker #ahsoka tano #obi wan kenobi #arc trooper fives #arc trooper yara #clone troopers #clone trooper ocs #clone ocs #commander fox #riyo chuchi #commander tori #lenora doherty #clone trooper tup #palps is dead #star wars au #star wars alternate universe #count dooku #galactic empire

[eerythingisshaka]

The Coffee Prince Pt. XV

[T’Challa x Reader]

Word Count: 4.2k

*Part 1* *Part 2* *Part 3*  *Part 4* *Part 5*  *Part 6* *Part 7* *Part 8* *Part 9*  *Part 10* *Part 11* *Part 12* *Part 13* *Part 14*

Your vision is blurry and your surroundings sound like you are underwater.  A brightness keeps your attention steady but your mind is clear of any coherent thought.  The nothingness should be peaceful, but your heart beats sluggishly, heavy with each thunk in your chest and you feel yourself get nauseous.  Then a nagging tone reverberates in your head over and over until you’re forced out of the vacuum in your mind.

“(Y/N)?”  you hear.  The haze in your eyes clears to reveal the coffeeshop and eventually the individual sitting in front of you.

“Are you ok?  You are just staring.”  T’Challa says.  He takes your hand in his and uses his napkin to dry your coffee dampened hand.

You snatch your hand back quickly, knocking into your cup as it tips in your direction.  T’Challa snatches it back as quickly as he can but it doesn’t take much for a hot liquid to make its presence known.   The splash hits your white sweater dress, heat hits your stomach as the coffee soaks thru and ruins the fabric.

“Oh!  Fuck!”  you yell out, pulling the offending area away from your skin and getting up to leave.

T’Challa follows you out, apologizing.  “I am so sorry!  I didn’t mean to startle you.”

You burst outside, trotting to create some distance.  You have to go home at this point.  There is no way you can work with this mess on you.

Your wrist is grabbed as you are pulled around by T’Challa, but you whip your hand back.

“What the hell was that back there?”  you ask.

T’Challa looks at you in confusion.  “I was trying to help-”

“Yeah no, I know what you were doing, but why?  What are you here for?”

T’Challa keeps a cool head, maintaining his signature royal calm.  “I decided it would be nice to talk to you, since I saw you there.”

“You decided?”  You cackle into the air, white puffs from the cool weather give you a poetic feature of your anger.  “So you were just waiting for the right moment to come up to me?  Because why?  You were scared?  You were busy?”

T’Challa looks less sure of himself as he responds.  “No, not at all.  But I thought we agreed on space.”

“How long do you take space from someone?  Five, six months from a person you claimed to love?  I-”  you take a minute to gather yourself.  “I am going to clean this shit off of me.  You go and do whatever the fuck you were planning to do after your 5 minute check in.  Thanks Doc.”

You make your way as fast as you can to your car to get back home.  Feeling your anger fester inside is exhilarating as you speed down the street.  You stop at a red light and hype yourself up turning up the radio to some Flo Milli shit, ready to catch a body.

A horn honks behind you beginning you back to your original task of driving.  Assuming you missed the light change you look to still find it red.  As you check your rearview, you recognize the driver, T’Challa, urging you to pull over with some finger pointing.  

You can’t believe he is even following you.  This is the worst time to talk out of all the months you waited for him.  He will have to follow your lead.

Soon as the green light comes up, you put the pedal to the floor.  Zooming down the road, you try your best to whip around corners and maneuver around cars to shake T’Challa off your path.  Checking your mirror again once you were less than 5 minutes from your place, you can’t see him.  You sigh with relief, honking your horn once happily that you prevailed.  

“Take that!  Thinking you can just slide back like nothing happened, bitch please!”  you felt your boss energy hit a high as you turned onto your neighborhood. 

Once you’re parked, you head up the stairs to your floor, keys jingling as you search for your door key.

“I am glad you made it.”

At the top of your steps, T’Challa is waiting at the door, hands folded in front of him, in his black heavy trench coat.  You wouldn’t have guessed he followed you home at all, since he looked like you kept him waiting.

“T’Challa!  I seriously didn’t ask you to come here!”

“You shouldn’t have to,” he says.

You sigh, stepping to the door and pushing him aside.  “I am on the clock still, I just don’t have the time to even get into it with you.”

Stepping inside your apartment, you look around at the mess you have been too out of it to clean.  You turn to the door to close it behind you, but T’Challa holds the door open.

“Are you just going to follow me around the whole damn day?”  you exclaim.

“We have had enough space.  I can talk while you change.”

“I won’t be listening,”  you say, stepping away and heading for your bedroom.  You dig around your closet for something to replace your outfit feeling yourself get more upset with each flick of a hanger.

T’Challa closes the door behind him, picking up trash and wine bottles.  “I was hoping I would find you well.”

“I’m in a rush!” you shout from your room.

“When we left each other, it took everything for me to not come to you and check on you everyday.  I wanted to respect your wishes so I kept myself busy and distracted my thoughts.”

You pick out a brown sweater with navy blue stripes and some black slacks.  Not nearly as cute as the white sweater dress but you had little time left.

T’Challa continues, “And what helped me is that I knew you were happy and safe.  I did not have to worry about someone trying to take you from me, as long as I stayed back.  But I  didn’t like the man I became when you were out of my life and it became harder to not at least check on you, so I did frequent the shop more in order to catch a glimpse of you and when I had, I felt the wave of disappointment.”

You step out into the doorway of your bedroom.  “Why?  Because I looked like I hadn’t slept soundly for weeks?  Like I had a cloud of anxiety over my head, wondering when you might pop up?”

“Why would you be anxious to see me?”  T’Challa asks.  “I feel nothing but calm when I am around you.”

You laugh.  “I can’t believe that.  It’s awkward running into an ex in any situation so that alone makes it stressful.”

He nods, looking slightly relieved.  “As long as there are not other reasons, I am glad.”

“So why say you were disappointed to see me?  Your plan of liberating me didn’t work and you felt bad for me?”

T’Challa shakes his head.  “I was disappointed because my selfish nature became apparent.  You look well, and I didn’t notice any of the conditions you are saying.  It was like the day we first met, when you came to me and I was glad.  I wanted to come to you in the same nature and see you smile back, but I knew I couldn’t achieve that same effect.”

“So why come up to me today?  If you already knew I wouldn’t be happy to see you, why do all this?”

You see his eyes fall.  Similar to the way he looked when you left him in Wakanda, T’Challa looks hurt by your words.

“I was hoping I was wrong,”  T’Challa says quietly.  

You can’t think of words to say next, although that is only a half truth.  Your mind filled with words to say but your jaw locked itself tightly.  

“All I’ve done is ask you to leave me be.  You say I am fine, and I agree.  It’s been great not having you around.”  You felt a sting in your mouth saying that.  Why were you lying?

You walk across to your front door to open it, but he lays his hand on the door.

“You didn’t deserve to go through that alone,”  he says.

“I feel like we agreed on that already.”

“I mean after.  The break was a mistake.”

“No, it’s what I wanted and you’re ruining it.”

“Umhle…”

“No!”  you push him in his chest, making him step back.  “Don’t call me that!”

“Listen,” he says.

You push him again, hoping he feels the weight on his heart that you have had to go through for months.

“I won’t!  You have nothing left to say that I wanna hear.  You talk so damn much!”

Your hands fly up to knock his chest again, but he catches them by the wrist, pushing them above your head and back against the front door.

He looks at you fiercely but not with anger.  He looks like he is on the brink of crying as he pins you there, protecting himself from your mania.

You lay your head back, closing your eyes.  “I don’t want to fight you.”

“Then stop.”

“I know, I know.”  

He let’s your arms go, and you feel your heartbeat in your ears.  Seeing him there in front of you felt like a dream but nt like the ones you’ve been having.  You put a hand up to his cheek just to ensure that he is real.  He leans his head into your hand gently, allowing your touch and breaking his steadfast stoicism.

What you don’t see coming is your lips finding his.  It’s a small peck, but a crack in the cold war between you two.  T’Challa looks at you in doe eyed observance, but doesn’t step away.  

“Are you ok?” he asks quietly.

You kissed him hard, ripping at his coat to get to his solid body underneath.  Your blood pumped with adrenaline as you pushed him toward your couch, pulling up at his shirt.

T’Challa holds your forearms tightly, holding your progress back.  “What are you doing?”

“It’s not obvious?”  You free your hands to grab the hem of your dress, pulling it over your head, standing before him in nothing but your undergarments and knee high boots.  

T’Challa loses this battle, bringing his hands perpendicular to the width of your hips.  You wrap your arms around his neck as his lips meet his shoulder, planting delicate kisses that make your insides curl up.

You don’t want this right now, you wanted to get down to business.  You take his shirt off swiftly.

“Fall back,”  you tell him, shoving him to the couch before jumping onto his lap.  Your hands travel his body, retracing those familiar hills and valleys that make up his muscular form.   You feel his heart race as your hands lay under his jaw, tickling your palm.  You go to unfasten his pants when he stops you again.  

“Wait,” he whispers.  

“What?  You have a condom don’t you?  The right kind?”

T’Challa nods wordlessy.  But he takes your hand, reaching it toward his forehead to run your finger along his widows peak.

You feel the softness of his curls through each pass along his hairline.  T’Challa keeps a steady gaze on you, taking your hand to his lips to kiss your fingertips.

“I always liked it when you did that.  How something so small about myself could make you so content,”  T’Challa says.  

You sit there feeling a wave of guilt wash over you.  You didn’t feel that at this moment, you just wanted to feel something other than your sadness, your loneliness, your stress.  

“And you haven’t called me by your special name for me yet.  Can you remind me?”  T’Challa says with a wide grin.  

You ignore his growing happiness, thinking things are back to normal or even on the road to being.  You get up from his lap, picking up your dress.  

“You can leave now,” you say solemnly.

T’Challa stands up, “Something is wrong, I knew.  Umhle, we can talk-”

“Please, if you respect anything that I ask you for, when I say leave just leave!”  you shout.  You run to your bedroom, shutting the door behind you.  Putting on your replacement outfit, you hear T’Challa shutting the apartment door.  

You weren’t ready for those sweet moments with T’Challa, calling him ChaCha and admiring his features lovingly.  It is still tough to believe that he is even with you.  Was he being truthful with his words?  Had the separation been hard on him as much as it had been for her?  No, it could never be.  He has family and a country that loves him, what did you have?  And to think he would even have a chance at your body again further shows his delusions of grandeur, you thought.

--

A couple weeks later, you are packing your desk up as your last day at work has finally come upon you.  This job was one of your first ones you got with benefits as an adult and you were so proud to have accomplished earning that income.  But it was a stale position with no means of working up so you knew at some point you would have to cut loose for something better.  You get a few polite goodbye messages from coworkers on your way out.  It’s more than you expected, because your social meter was forever low there.  

As the spirit of unemployment takes you to the elevator, your phone beeps with a message from an unknown number.  

Hey!  Would you like to hang out today?  This is Shuri!

You feel a smile come on your face as your favorite little Wakandan texts you, though you do wonder how she acquired your phone number.  You instantly agree and set up a time and place right as the elevator doors open.  As you ride down, you begin to question why T’Challa couldn’t be more like Shuri?  She is so open and fun and light, while he is so serious and guarded.  When he looks at you, it’s like he is reading your every expression and trying to read your mind.  You know he will not miss a single twitch of your lip, so you have to be as cool with him as you possibly can or he will ask what’s wrong and be concerned.  Like the last time you were together, you just wanted him to take you but then he had to get all sentimental and killed it.  Why did he have to do that when that’s obviously not what you were asking for? Then the embarrassment fills you; why did you have to jump on him like some thirsty bird?  One minute alone and you couldn’t just talk?

As you drive off from your workplace for the last time, you pass the coffee shop once again, feeling more sad than you have all day.  Would you have any reason to come by there anymore now that you don’t work down the street from it?  Is he going to be there any time now?  You assume there’s no chance of that as you turn down the road to head home, mind wandering hopelessly on the chance meetings you both had there, up until your last time seeing each other on your couch.  

A few days later, you and Shuri are sitting in a warm bistro in a nice part of town where they serve drinks in mason jars and greet you with the fact that all their furniture is repurposed wood.

“I’m glad you could come here,”  Shuri says between bites of bread nestled on top of her tomato bisque soup.  She looks amazing in a sheer jumpsuit with red and cream colored ruffles, with a nude colored bralette and matching biker shorts underneath with a heather grey wool coat to cover the ensemble/  

“Thanks for inviting me!  And happy birthday girl, you’re growing up before my eyes!”

Shuri rolls her eyes.  “Aye, stop.  I’ve been carrying a country on my back ever since I became a teenager.  Nothing has changed since I am now an adult.”

You poke your lip out at her.  “Just look at her.  Thinking she’s grown already.”

Shuri chuckles, tossing one of her stray braids back behind her shoulder.  “Anyway!  I just wanted to come see you because you are amazing and I should see amazing people in my life more often.”

You place a hand to your chest.  “You really are too generous with your words, Shuri.  I should thank you, no matter what I owe you so much.  And you didn’t have to make a special meeting with us at all, I know you want to be with family and all.”

Shuri nods.  “Of course, I have a flight later to spend the evening at home with Mama and T’Challa and the country is throwing a party in my honor which is going to be so tiring!  I tell you I would rather be here in a quiet space wearing comfortable clothes.”

“It does suck to have a whole country praise you for existing,”  you say in a bored tone, faking death with your eyes crossed and your tongue hanging half out of your mouth.

“Ok, ok, I get it.  Royal child problems.  But it’s still not my style.  A birthday always turns into an event for others other than yourself.  If I did what I wanted, they would think I was kidnapped for ransom, but I am just home doing video games.”

“OH I love playing video games!”  

Shuri shakes her head.  “No, like making them.  I work with developers at Nintendo, XBOX, Sony, and even some mobile games to help them tweak their software.  Pokemon has been trying to get my attention for a while.”

You sit there in amazement.  “Oh....and that’s all for fun?”

Shuri laughs.  “Of course!  I thought you said you like video games!”

You laugh with her unsure why her evidence of her intelligence still amazes you so but you can’t help it.  This young girl is a literal genius and the world barely knows of her, richer than any white man that flexes their wealth and yet she is here at a bistro on a block she could buy tomorrow if she wanted.

“So have you still decided on moving out of your place?”  Shuri asks, sipping her tea.

“I have, yeah.  It’s just the right thing to do since I can’t afford to be there anymore.”

“Because you didn’t want it being paid for anymore,”  Shuri says matter-of-factly.

“Right.  I couldn’t keep accepting that kind of help from you all-”

Shuri raises her hands.  “That was all T’Challa.”

“...and that makes it even worse.  We weren’t together anymore so why should he pay for me to live.  It didn’t sit right with me.  And then Tavia not being there makes it sad and lonely and then I am angry and moody, so the apartment is cursed as far as I am concerned!”

“Sure, that’s fair.  Well when it is time to start packing and moving things, you know who to call,”  Shuri offers.

“Thanks, I probably will have to cash that in.  And how is Tavia by the way?  Is she settled somewhere or back in Wakanda?”

“She is in the States, yes.  We relocated her, she is getting basic needs met by us until she finds a job and is able to sustain herself.”

“She has family in Kentucky, is she there with them?”

Shuri nods.  “If you tell anyone I told you…”

“I won’t!  That was supposed to be secret?”

“Some worried, if you knew, you might try to find her or consider moving there,”  Shuri fidgets with the silver rings on her fingers as she says this.

“I know,”  you say.  T’Challa probably thinks you will pull something like you did in Wakanda when you snuck to see Erik and Tavia.  “I wouldn’t do that.”

“I’m sure, especially after the last meeting you all had.  I knew an amicable departure was low probability but I hoped.”

“If she had any humility, I would’ve grown to trust her.  But she is more angry with T’Challa than Erik.  Even more angry at me for some reason!  I won’t get into that though, she is who she is and I will keep my distance.”

“Perfect.  To  distance!”  Shuri picks up her ceramic cup and clinks it with yours.  “So I take it you haven’t seen T’Challa still, right?”

You choke on your drink when she asks this.  “I mean, what chance do I have?  I completely cut him from my life.” “Of course, right.”

You think in silence a moment.  “So he hasn’t brought me up has he?”

She shakes her head, “No, not in ages.”

You feel a piece of your heart break off.  How long is ‘ages’?  Not since Wakanda or…

“Huh,”  you say.  

“Yes, he has been very busy, but that reminds me.  I have a business proposition for you.”

“Go on…”  you drag out cautiously.

“If you are looking for either a quick side gig of supplemental income or a full time career change, why not consider being at the center with me!”   We have an opening and although the talent manager is a bit tough, she is sure to enjoy interviewing someone like you.”  Shuri winks at this, while you know full and well that she is the hiring manager.

You bite your lip thinking hard about this.  “I mean...what would I do there?”

Shuri sits back and thinks.  “Well, you could supervise the games we host at the center, basketball mostly right now.  You could help serve lunches, we would just need to get you a food handlers card.  There’s tutoring positions if you have strength in certain subjects.  We also have a dance group that practices, the coach would like an assistant.  And then we have a nursery area as well.”

“Wow, that’s a lot of spots to choose from!’

“You don’t have to make a decision today.  Take some time to think about it and what position would serve you best.”

You nod, looking off into your cloud of thought.  “You know what, fuck it.  I think I wanna help with the dance group.”

“Really?  Have you danced before?”

“I used to be in a dance group in high school and like halfway through college.  I had to stop because of expenses and I had no time to study anymore so I had to stop.  But I can still get down and I feel more comfortable being an assistant, you know.  Routine is set, just help through the steps and stretching and stuff.   All good.”

Shuri claps her hands together once.  “I am so pleased.  It really is my birthday now!  I’ll have you fill out an application just on an obligatory basis and then I’ll let you know when you start.  Can’t wait to see you girl!”

At the end of the meal you hug Shuri and part ways, wishing her a happy birthday once again.  Your body feels lighter than air as you think about the new adventure ahead.  You also remind yourself to look clear some space in the living room and get a music video playlist going so that you don’t look foolish in front of these young girls.  People don’t do the dougie like they used to.

--

Pulling up to the community center parking lot for your first day, you do a mental checklist to make sure you have all that you need.  Water bottle, towel, gym bag with spare outfit, and you’re dressed for movement in your black and pink leggings, oversized tshirt and lightweight tennis shoes.  You fluff your puff ball  of hair on top of your head and go inside the building.  

You hear a cacophony of voices that echo in the hallway as you walk toward a staircase.  Bottom floor housed the basketball courts and swimming pool.  The first and second has classrooms, daycare and the administrative offices.

As you get off on the first floor, the cutesy decor let you know this is the daycare area.  Rainbows and cartoonish animal pictures and alphabet letters pepper the walls as you walk by.  Past a door there is a long window that allows you to look inside and see an army of children playing in a toy filled wonderland.  A fake fairytale woodsy vibe seems to be a theme with 5 -6 children sitting under a faux tree that is masterfully crafted in one corner of the room.  Your standard rubber puzzle piece flooring is jumped on by 2 year old polka dot socked feet.  A whole restaurant is set up in the middle that would probably pass health code standards as some girls pretend to serve each other dinner.  A fence separates another side of the room that has the little newborn babies, barely doing much else than opening their eyes and going to sleep.  A caretaker holds a cute chunky chocolate drop of a baby in her arms, couldn’t have been more than 2 months old.  

“Poor mama.  Probably has to go back to work and leave her precious child here by themself.” you mutter, knees softening as you fawn over the baby.  You feel a tear creep up and spill from your eye but you wipe it quickly, catching your gym bag strap as you collect yourself.  

“God, stop crying over babies already,”  you scold yourself.

“You should’ve seen her mother the first day she brought her,”  T’Challa says behind you.  “It was like we were kidnapping her, it was heartbreaking.”

“Dammit,” you curse under your breath.  He keeps time better than a watch.

Masterlist

RagTag

@sweetpeachjones​​ @scrumptiouslytenaciouscrusade​​ @universalbri​​@therevolution-willbelive @you-like-this-chain​ @sarcastic-sunshines​​@airis-paris14 ​@afraiddreamingandloving​@kreolemami​@lalapalooza718​@syreanne​@thiccdaddy-mbaku​@she-is-golden @wakanda-inspired​​@90sinspiredgirl​@bidibidibombaclaat​ @sithlordslut​@brujademente​@chaneajoyyy​@slimmiyagi @lewatigress​​ @shesakillerkween @queentearra @fiercedeception@yaachtynoboat711​ @yofavcocoa @katasstrophey​​ @zxddy-panther​​@babygirlofwakanda​@destinio1​ @heyauntieeee​​ @ambthegamer​​ @savageiz​​@klaine15689​ @nickidub718​​ @dramaqueenamby

#shakafic #coffee prince #tchalla fic

[ladyartemisia28]

Loop of Despair: Chapter 2

Chapter 2: What is Love?

Summary: Dean Winchester could not believe that his best friend, Castiel was confessing his feelings of love towards him.But the message does settle in by the 4th or so time that he hears it.

Word Count: 2515

Warnings: Major Character Death (repeatedly), Language, Suicide/Sacrifice, Blood, Bleeding out.

~

Chapter Title in reference to the Jaymes Young version of ‘What is Love?‘

~

He found himself coming back to consciousness standing hunched over near the entrance to the room. Dean blinked as he looked over to see Castiel finishing up painting a protective sigil.

The grip on his heart eased.

'This is going to kill me. This is too much...'

Dean fell down on his knees palms on the cool concrete floor.

“Dean ” Cas says with concern. He offers him a hand to get up off the ground.

Dean smacks it away in a frustrated motion with causes Cas to furrows his brow.

“I think I'm gonna stay here.” Dean muttered hunched over tears forming. He whispered to himself “I can't watch you die again.”

“Dean we are going to fight this.”

“We're going to lose” Dean replies with a certain tone in his voice.

“I know one thing that she is afraid of.”

'There it is'

Cas's words buzzed in his ears.

He was tired. He couldn't remember the last time that he had felt like this. He somehow felt like he could fall unconscious due to exhaustion. And that he was too wired from all of the fighting of this never-ending nightmare to ever sleep again.

He continued to think up a plan as Castiel spoke.

'Maybe a rejection would work?'

“The one thing I wanted is something I know I can't have.”

“Is this a love confession?” Dean interrupts as he raises himself off of the ground.

“Yes.” Cas says with a smile and a crinkle of his blue eyes. “Yes it is.”

'Showtime.'

Dean takes a breathe as if this was the first time he had those words said to him from his angel.

“I'm so sorry Man, I think you are just barking up the wrong tree.” Dean says looking at the ground quickly. He has his hands clenched into fists.  Lie.

“Buddy I gotta tell you, I couldn't have expected this from you.”  Not a lie.

“You are still best friend and...”  Not a lie.

He swallowed a lump in his throat as he turned his whole body from Castiel to face the wall that he had been thrown against in many many of the previous loops.

“... brother” Lie

He had conned and lied before. Dean had practiced until he was an expert at shoving his feelings and wants inside small boxes.

But these actions were much easier when he believed that Cas did not have the capability for Romantic feelings towards him.

When Cas was beating him to a bloody pulp due to Naomi's brainwashing, he chickened out by saying that he “needed him”.

When Sammy did his younger sibling teasing of the “Destiel” shipping, he deflected instead of broaching the sensitive subject.

When Charlie commented that Cas sounded dreamy. Dean wasn't obvious knew what the she was hinting at. She was gay, she probably could tell that Dean was not as straight as he had attempted to be since he was 17.

“I care about you.” Truth.

“I did not think you would feel the same way Dean, it's fine with me that you see me as a friend and family.” Cas replies was a pure open smile showed that he was not lying.

“I love you,”

The Empty arrived on schedule

“No no! You can't be happy!” Dean cried in frustration as he approached him and took a hold of his trench coat. “I just turned you down!”

He knew if he himself were to receive a rejection from Cas he would have been devastated. But also that would have required a level of vulnerability that Dean was afraid of.

Cas was always braver than he was.

“Dammit Cas, have some more self respect, you deserve better!” he says releasing his grip from the coat.

“Goodbye Dean.” he says as he applies the bloody hand print in what has become almost comforting at this point.

He still does not care for the shoving.

Somehow he finds more and more hatred in his heart for The Empty each time.

~

Dean momentarily blacked out as his heart began to physically fail him. He found himself coming back to consciousnesses standing hunched over near the entrance to the room. Dean blinked as he looked over to see Castiel finishing up painting a protective sigil on the door with his angelic blood.

Dean could feel the literal death grip on his heart ease.

He took a determined step to the door and gently shoved Cas to the side.

He opens the door and waves the white flag. Billie looks shocked at him with a raised eyebrow.

“What is this Winchester?”

“Billie I surrender but don't take Cas, please.” he holds his hands up.

“Dean no, stop!” Cas demands as he takes a strong hold of Dean's green jacket. It's not quick enough though.

Last thing Dean sees is a scythe and the shocked face of Castiel.

~

Dean momentarily blacked out as his heart began to physically fail him. He found himself coming back to consciousnesses standing hunched in his usual spot. Dean blinked in aggravation as he looked over to see Castiel finishing up painting a protective sigil on the door with his angelic blood.

Dean could feel the literal death grip on his heart ease.

'Fuck I thought that was the answer!'

“Before you even think of summoning the Empty I'm telling you to STOP!” He pointed an accusatory finger the the other man's surprised face.

“The Empty? Cas exclaimed like the idea was brilliant. “That's it! When Jack was dying I made a deal....wait how did you know Dean?”

“It's not important, But I know you need a moment of happiness. And I refuse to give you that!”

“Dean, I...”

“NO! No nononono! Shut up you Sonvabitch!” Dean growls as he covers his ears “I can't hear you!”

“Dean don't behave like a child” Cas reprimands as he gently pries Dean's hands from his ears rather easily.

“I don't want to hear what you have to say Cas!” he yells at him.

“I don't know what has gotten into you but you are being Winchester Stubborn.”

“Yeah I'm being childish and stubborn and stupid!” Dean nodded along to his statements as walks circles around the chair in the middle of the demon circle.

“While that is true sometimes, you are also caring...the most caring, selfless human begin I will ever know.”

“Cas I'm telling you have to keep your yap shut.” Dean pleads. “I'm begging you Man!”

“Dean I need to be honest with you. Ever since I pulled you out of hell” a tear rolls slowly down Cas's right eye “Knowing you has changed me. Because you cared I cared. I cared about you, I cared about Sam, I cared about Jack, I cared about the whole world because of you”

Dean tries to keep himself together but a sob escapes his body.

“You changed me Dean”

'I fucking hate this.'

“I love you”

“How dare you tell me this as a goodbye you fucking feathered coward!” Dean replies as he angrily wipes the tears from his eyes as Cas applies the mark to his jacket once more.

“Goodbye Dean”

Shove

The Empty

~

Dean wordlessly screams himself hoarse when he began the next loop and is only able to numbly nod along to Cas's words.

“I love you”

When it came for the moment for the Empty to make it's arrival Dean shoves Castiel to Dean's usual spot on the ground.

He attempts to block the primordial being's pursuit of Cas.

It easily flows around him and takes Castiel away.

~

He calls Sam

'Hello you have reached the phone of Sam Winchester'

He calls Jack

''Hello I am Jack....Castiel?! do I say Kline or Kline Winchester???'

He throws the phone against the wall.

“I love you”

“Goodbye Dean”

Hand print

Shove

The Empty

~

“I Love you.”

“Goodbye Dean”

Handprint

Shove

The Empty

Again

~

And again

~

AND AGAIN

~

Dean momentarily blacked out as his heart began to physically fail him. He found himself coming back to consciousnesses standing hunched over near the entrance to the room. Dean blinked as he looked over to see Castiel finishing up painting a protective sigil on the door with his angelic blood.

“Did it work?” Cas asks and receives a nod in return.

He was unsure how many times that he had endured the loop at this point. He desperately gripped at his hair.

“Cas... Cas, shit...shut up and listen to me.” Dean says tired but unflinching as he moves to place his hands on Cas's shoulders in a reverse of the usual actions. “I have an idea!”

“Yes Dean?”

“The...the Empty...

“the empty?” Cas whispers seemly to himself as Dean sees realization bloom on his face. “Dean...that...that's brilliant....I can”

“I told you SHUT UP!” Dean shouted before covering Cas's month with his hand.

They both stilled for a moment Cas's eyes widen with shock. Dean was pretty shocked at his actions himself.

Feeling Cas's ever present scruff beneath the palm of his hand was jarring. It seemed unnatural and confusing.

“Cas, it only takes demons and angels and non humans right?” he choked out with a nod of Cas's head as a response.

“So what we gotta do is summon it to gank Billie”  Dean smiles and removes his hand from Cas's face. “And then we remove your grace to send The Empty packing.”

“I...how do you know about the deal??” Cas asks with a narrowing of his eyes and his signature head tilt of confusion. “Did Jack say something to you?”

Dean lets Cas assume what he will. He makes a mental note to apologize to the kid for letting him take the blame. He'd explain it to everyone when both him and Cas are safe.

“I am unsure of this plan Dean...” Cas says “Extracting my own grace it would be immensely painful. I'm unsure....”

“Then I'll do it! It's gotta be better than you committing suicide via Hexxus! Come on..” Dean requests as he reaches into Cas's sleeve where he knew he kept his angel blade.

“I know you have to make some emotional speech to be happy. Blah Blah...I'm not a killer...Blah...I'm motivated by love and whatever bullcrap your delusional brain has made up.”

“Dean...how?” Cas's face was the picture of confusion. “It's not bull excrement. You are not a killer you are not how our enemies see you.”

He continues speaking waving the angel blade around impatiently.

“Yeah yeah...get on with it...” Dean muttered with the uncomfortable shift of his shoulders. He retreats from the feeling by using sarcasm and humor. He imitated Cas's deep voice “You are the most caring man on earth”

“Dean do not mock me.” the angel commands gruffly as he catches Dean's gaze and holds it with intense emotion.

Over the years he had grown accustomed to gazing into the clear sky blue eyes. They were always so vivid and at first Dean wondered if that was the grace shinning through. When he met other angels he found it was not the case. When he saw his vessel's original owner, Jimmy, his eyes were not as blue either.

It was just uniquely Cas.

“You feel more acutely than most and it's truly and deeply moving. You have been through more than most and you have not succumbed to apathy it's a testament to the strength of your heart that it keeps caring.”  Cas continued.

He already felt uncomfortable with casual compliments. This heartfelt confession was just too much, it really made him feel like he needed to deflect and run.

“Cas...”

“No it's your turn to shut up.” Cas interrupts sternly, Dean nervously licked his lip and stayed silent.

“You told me to speak and I am now doing so. I need to let you know that knowing you has changed me. I care because you care. I care about Sam, Jack, I care about the whole world because of you.”

Dean bit his lip as he heard the more familiar collective of words.

“You've changed me.”

“I love you.” Cas says with a small chuckle.

Dean gave a small nod and sad smile in return. He then nervously clears his throat with a cough  as the Empty materializes.

Dean remembered what the next sentence would be an he preemptively spoke.

“Don't say goodbye, Cas this has to work.” Dean says with doubt coloring his words.

“Ok here we go.” Dean says moving the angel blade in his hand as he watched The Empty whisk Billie away.

“I just get the grace from your throat right?!” Dean says before he raises the points the tip of the blade to Castiel's neck.

“Dean it will be right here.” Cas says as he swipes a hand across his neck to show Dean where precisely to cut.

He gently takes a hold of the back on his head with his free hand. His hands shakes as he carefully slices into Castiel's throat at the instructed point.

A bit of the bluish white radiance trickles out of the laceration.

Dean tries to keep an eye on the rapidly advancing black goo.

And back to Cas.

And back to the goo in quick succession

He hears a noise a haunting horrible gurgle.

His green eyes meet wide blue ones.

Cas clutches at his throat with both hands and Dean drops the blade with a deafening clang

“NO!!! CAS NO!!!!!” Dean shouts while Cas weakly descents to the floor.

He quickly catches Castiel before he hits the ground as his own knees to the concrete.

The grace pours out of Cas's bloody wound and a gush of dark scarlet liquid comes out of Cas's mouth. Dean feels time slow down in the gruesome moment as he watched the man in his arms struggle to breath, to speak, blood filling his lungs.

Dean pulls Cas's head into his lap, now Castiel staring up at the hunter. One hand reaches for Dean's face tenderly. Dean quickly replaces his hand at the hemorrhage. It does little to stop the flow of red.

“NO Cas...Cas I”M SORRY NO! PLEASE CAS!!!!!” Dean feels his voice breaking more than he hears it. The only thing he hears is his own blood rushing loudly in his ears.

Cas's face settles into a resolute sort of peace, it reads to Dean as clearly as if he were speaking 'I don't blame you Dean. You tried everything you could.'

As the last of the grace flows way his eyes lose that ever present light.

He grief-stricken cries and sobs rack his body as he hugs Castiel's limp and heavy body close. Blood literally covering Dean's hands.

~

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#supernatural #supernatural fanfic #destiel #destiel fanfic #deancas #deancas fanfic #supernatural fix it fic #destiel fanfiction #dean x cas #Dean x Castiel

[laora-inn]

Supernatural - Destiel and Crowley, seasons 6-12

Hi, guys. 

I’ve re-watched some episodes from Supernatural season 6 and that made me think about Destiel and Crowley - from season 6 to season 12 strictly.  

I love Crowley and think he is one of the main characters which helped Destiel to become closest to canon, though in a hard way. 

Destiel positive, one-sided Crowley/Cas, Crowley/Dean and Balthazar/Cas in subtext mentioned, don’t like - don’t read.

In the season 6, Cas’s working with Crowley was the reason of Dean and Cas’s fight, that literally almost ruined the world. From that point, Cas and Crowley have their own dynamics which Dean is far well acquainted with, though for us viewers it could be not so easy to follow.

Basically, Crowley stayed in the plot in season 6 just for these dynamics and Dean’s further frustration = jealousy. ‘Cause, if we’ll take a look at season 6, all the thing about Cas’s dealing with Crowley wasn’t so bad. Cas really had good purposes, Dean really could talk to him in a supportive way, and I strongly believe that in this case there will be NO Leviathans at all. As well as Cas’s “death”, they were a metaphorical result of Dean’s jealousy and bitter words, which also almost cost Sam his life.

Season 6 is a very interesting piece. For the first time, it’s not Sam who is the main character of the show. It’s more Dean’s story, and Cas is also “Dean’s“. He came mostly when Dean calls, they share “more profound“ bond.

Cas raises Sam from perdition, as he raised Dean, heals Sam, as he healed Dean, answers Sam’s prayers, when Dean doesn’t want to pray first, and is referred to as Sam’s “boyfriend” in 6x11 by Balthazar. But all these prompts to make Sam and Dean’s relationships with Cas equal fail.

Cas saves Sam from Hell FOR DEAN (and yet he can’t save THE WHOLE Sam, it’s Dean who manages to bring Sam’s soul back + Sam restores his memory himself, in time), heals Sam when Dean tells him to do it and THE OTHER WAY, just by touching his forehead, not by cupping his face intimately, as it was with Dean in 5x22. In 6x03 soulless Sam mentions that Cas doesn’t answer his prayers, then Dean prays to Cas, and Cas comes immediately, with the line about his and Dean’s more profound bond on his lips. In 6x10 soulless Sam tricks Cas with his prayer and even threats to kill him if Cas won’t help. In 6x12 Sam, not soulless anymore, tricks Cas with his prayer to know about his past and doesn’t want to hug him.

It’s all outlined. Why?

As for Balthazar’s referring in 6x11: he, of course, could have spoken about both Sam and Dean back there. “You” in “go ask your boyfriend” can be plural, but I rather suppose Balthazar meant Cas as Sam’s boyfriend specifically, and that’s as right as the fact that his words in 6x17, about “the other angel in a dirty trench coat who’s in love with you”, were specifically about Dean. And I’m sure, that in 6x17 Balthazar understands Cas’s intentions better - it’s the same episode where he saves Titanic because Cas told so. I suggest Cas and Balthazar’s reunion took place right before 6x15, ‘cause by the end of 6x15 we know that they are a new-formed team and all this episode has one purpose - to help Cas get the Heaven weapon from Balthazar. Misha’s cameo from 6x15 even tells some things about Balthazar while acting Cas - that Balthazar isn’t a hero and couldn’t beat Rafael, who isn’t definitely going to forgive him.

So, Balthazar’s words about Cas who is in love with Dean are more significant than his assumption about Cas as Sam’s boyfriend. We have enough evidences for the fact that Cas in this season is “Dean’s”, though he cares about Sam a lot.

First of all - ‘cause Sam is crucial for Dean.

No wonder that in 6x22 Cas knocks Sam down to crush Dean. He knows how it works.

So in this season Sam is a victim of Dean and Cas’s love quarrel, someone who is fostered by both of them. And this is the part of a plot structure, as well as Cas and Crowley’s and Cas and Balthazar’s little moments, which are not crucial for the whole Winchesters’ story, but are absolutely necessary to understand Cas in this season and his and Dean’s “hidden” plot.

‘Cause this “hidden” plot is the thing on which the main plot is grounded.

Balthazar and Cas had relationship before Dean was even born. Crowley and Cas had their relationship after Dean decided to have a peaceful life with Lisa and Ben, and this relationship matters from season 6 till the end of season 12. I think it’s basically the reason why Crowley helps Winchesters so much.

You see, for starters, Sam and Dean were just no one to Crowley. They were humans, not even his equals. But Cas - he was higher. As Dean in 5x22, in 6x20 Crowley sees a new “God” in Cas, the Heaven ruler. And he isn’t telling the whole truth about it for sure, but also he isn’t lying. I think in some way he respects Cas, even admires. And it’s not subtle in the plot logic, it’s the part of it.

Let’s check.

Season 6 - Cas and Crowley are working together all the way, Crowley doesn’t want Winchesters to intervene, he tries to kill them and is threatened by Cas. He said that Cas doesn’t know what he is. He is tricked by Cas twice, double-crossed, but not killed - opposite to Raphael. God!Cas needs Crowley.

Season 7 - In 7x01 God!Cas finds Crowley, but, again, doesn’t kill him. He makes authoritarian demands, which have weird subtext (“you take whatever I give you”) and really scare Crowley. He help the Winchesters to enslave Death, but has never did or even said something against God!Cas. In 7x23 Crowley reveals Cas is alive, but, unlike the angels, he isn’t mad. He wants explanations, receives some honey from Cas instead and says in philosophical manner: “karma is a bitch”. Later, he doesn’t try to kill Cas and even leaves Meg with the boys not to disappoint his “business partner”.  

Season 8 - Crowley is a Big Bad this season. Also, this season is the first time than Destiel becomes a real thing textually, for both Dean and Cas. And Crowley is a BIG BAD in the middle of that finally hopeful love story. Coincidence? Hell no! Also, the first question that Crowley asks when he sees Dean alive is “Where is your angel?”. 

In 8x02 Dean tries to kill Crowley who is possessing Kevin’s mum. Why? The same reason Kevin has: Crowley made him fight for his life for year and killed his girlfriend. That’s also relevant for Dean: Crowley is one of the main reasons why Dean must fight for his life for year in Purgatory and lost Cas there.

In 8x07 during their encounter Crowley doesn’t try to attack Cas. He also says, that Cas could call him when he was out the Purgatory. But Cas doesn’t want to make things right with Crowley, he tries to kill him and manages to have Kevin and the half of the demons’ tablet back. Without Cas it will be impossible: the text shows us that Cas doesn’t like Crowley. Not even a little, not anymore.  

In 8x17 Crowley understands that Cas tricked Naomi and is kinda fond of that. Also, he kills Meg here, whom he was torturing for a year and who definitely was Cas’s crash in 7x21-7x23. We also saw that Crowley knew about it - and about the fact that in 8x17 all Meg did was helping Cas and protecting him from Crowley, even if this would cost her her life.

Strange, but this will be also Crowley’s future.  

In 8x21 Crowley rescues Cas from Naomi. He also gets the angels’ tablet FROM THE CAS’S BODY, but lets Cas escape by leaving another angel with him and angel-killing bullet IN HIM.

Season 9 - in 9x10 Crowley is flirting with Cas as much as possible. Just re-watch it and pay attention to all of these “What are you, a pimp?”, “Oh, Cas, such a flirt”, “Hey. Watch the leg”, “I'll be listening to every word you say. - Promise?”, “Without the tie, he's barely recognizable” and “The three amigos ride again”. For some reason, it was more urgent for Crowley to talk about Cas’s being a human first and about Hell later. There was also deleted scene in 9x10, where Cas and Crowley waited for Dean in the motel. They were sitting on the same bed, Crowley called Cas “sunshine” and tried to talk with him about being human, then Dean showed up, and he was very concerned about how they are doing. Destiel shippers consider this scene as an approving one, and I’m totally agree, ‘cause it shows us that Dean is still jealous when it comes to Cas’s relationship with Crowley, and he actually HAS A POINT HERE - if we’ll look at Crowley. ‘Cause Crowley wasn’t interested in Dean back then, he was interested in Cas, who, in his own turn, was absolutely uninterested. He was against releasing Crowley from the start.  

It’s 9x11 where Dean and Crowley begin to develop their own relationship, and I suppose it’s grounded on the mirroring each other. Back in season 8, it’s no wonder why Crowley wanted “to play Dean” for Kevin. He felt something common with Dean, and part of this “common” was Cas.

In 9x11 Crowley says that he tried to hate Dean more than Dean himself but failed. Here he puts Dean in danger by leading him to Cain, who gives Dean his Mark. After that Dean’s way down begins. But this is also true for Crowley! He becomes human blood junkie and in 9x16 needs help. Also, he helps Dean in the end of the season, brings him back - something that Cas and Sam couldn’t do.

Season 10 - here in 10x02 Crowley and Dean’s (b)romance ends, and Crowley helps Dean to return to his normal life... by saving Cas with stealing angel’s grace for him in 10x03. I simply don’t understand WHY Crowley helped Cas here if we’ll ignore their relationship and Destiel. Crowley didn’t know Sam can’t help Dean himself and needs help for surviving. And how the hell did Crowley know that Cas can save Dean, that it will work? Why was he so sure? His words “you owe me” to Cas mean nothing, he’ll never remember them. They sound just like an excuse!

I think here Crowley: 1) wants to save Cas because of their relationship; 2) knows that Cas could “fix the problem” with Dean because of Dean and Cas’s relationship; 3) has sentimental feelings for Dean despite of their break-up one episode earlier.

Crowley couldn’t control Dean. But he thinks Cas can. And he is no wrong!

In this episode Cas says to healed Dean that Crowley stole some grace for him and this is the story for the other time ‘cause he has a female waiting for him in his car. Dean is very unhappy to hear that, and not because of “female” alone, but also because of Crowley. Crowley and some woman are the reason of Cas’s leaving again. As usual.

In 10x14 there was also one deleted scene with Cas and Crowley, where Crowley called Dean Cas’s boyfriend. Cas reacted with: “Maybe, he is your boyfriend?” and Crowley responded: “He is not my type”.

True - ‘cause here Dean gives the First Blade to Cas, not Crowley, and says that he tricked Crowley about Cain’s going to kill him. But they don’t kill Crowley. It’s just Crowley being rejected by both of them.

Still, in 10x23, after Destiel fight, Cas summons Crowley and asks him for help. And Crowley helps! His only demand to Cas is TO BEG for help. To say “King” and “please”. Well, kinky.

Also, Crowley proposes Cas to call him. Not to summon. And by the end of this episode Cas is cursed by Rowena and almost manages to kill Crowley.

Season 11 - it begins with Cas’s acknowledging that he didn’t kill Crowley (and that’s good, Crowley was a big help to save Dean from the Mark). Also, Crowley here has an orgy in some woman’s body. It was more urgent to him than anything else. Hmm.  

Some episodes later Crowley tries to be a foster parent for Amara. He is ready to kill Dean to protect her and fails. Amara becomes free, she wants to see God, the Winchesters want to stop her and call Crowley to see Lucifer. He guides them to Hell, where Cas becomes possessed by Lucifer. After saying good-bye to Sam and Dean Lucifer in Cas’s body returns to Hell, and Crowley isn’t hostile to him. He’s just surprised. 

Then comes a long BDSM story for Lucifer in Cas’s body and Crowley, and Lucifer do all the things God!Cas might do to Crowley but didn’t. When Crowley is free, he is desperate to expel Lucifer from Cas and return him to the Cage. That’s his plan, not Sam’s or Dean’s. Dean wants to expel Lucifer from Cas and give him a new vessel to fight Amara. Sam even didn’t see a point here - Cas and Cas’s vessel are two different things for him. 

Dean fails to expel Lucifer. So does Crowley - he tries in his own way, by possessing Cas’s vessel, like it was with Sam in 9x10. He says to Cas that Dean wants him to expel Lucifer, but Cas is depressed, so it doesn’t work. Also, Sam didn’t know, that he was possessed, and saw the point in fighting back, but Cas doesn’t see. So both Dean and Crowley fail. 

Season 12 - here Cas and Crowley start to look for Lucifer together and this is a horrible piece of news to Dean. Cas left him in 12x03 to work with Crowley again! Cas and Crowley are playing FBI agents together - it was Dean’s only role-play with Cas from 5x03! 

Cas isn’t happy either, but Crowley is. And that’s just amazing, ‘cause without Crowley Cas could be dead in 12x07. Lucifer just saw Crowley and wanted to punch him instead of Cas. No wonder that Dean thanked Crowley for helping Cas here. In 12x08 Crowley helps with Lucifer again. In 12x09 he is uninterested in looking for the Winchester boys, though in 12x12 he helps again - and not just with Ramiel. He rescues Cas from dying. Dean thanks him for that for the second time in 12x15.

In 12x21 Crowley knows about Cas’s bailing off with Kelly. He tells Lucifer about it and calls Cas “Winchesters’ love slave”. He thinks that Cas wants to kill Kelly’s baby. Then Lucifer gets free, and Crowley sacrifices himself to stop him. To save the world, the Winchesters... and Cas - for the third time. 

So Cas was important for Crowley from season 6. He is one of the main reasons Crowley acknowledged Winchesters at all, saw something in them. 

And Crowley, in his own turn, is one of the main characters to expose nature of Destiel. He was always somewhere in the middle of their relationship, mostly as Dean’s mirror. 

Well, from season 13 the nature of Destiel changed. 

#Destiel #destiel meta #destiel-meta #castiel #dean winchester #crowley #supernatural #SPN #dean/castiel #dean/cas #DEANCAS #CasDean #balthazar #spn balthazar

[5lazarus]

Hey Laz! I'm very curious a about Fire in the Empire and Josephine, Leliana, the panties 👀🔥

And also Hilda if you feel like it because I love the name ❤️

hey!! thanks for the ask :) Fire in the Empire is the next chapter of Fen’Harel’s Teeth, based off this song. I like it because I think it describes every character’s state of mind as they tear through the Exalted Plains--Briala, Lavellan, Hawen, Solas, Blackwall, and Iron Bull. Especially Solas, Blackwall, and Iron Bull. here’s a snippet. I’ve always been fascinated with how you find the Soul Canto in the trenches, so I opened the chapter with it:

The girl is bleeding out all over the table, but under her is a leatherbound book that remains dry. Imladris tugs it out from under her, gently pushing the still-warm corpse aside. She can see the girl’s eyes through the grill of her armor. “What was she reading?” Iron Bull asks. Imladris examines the title. “The Tome of Koslun. Is she viddathari?” “Nah,” Bull says. “We moved all our spies out when the demons came.” The book is battered and the pages are thin and cracker-hard; it’s been left out in the rain before, and carefully dried. Carefully Imladris turns the pages, staining them with the grime and blood of her gloves. She reads aloud, “You have seen the greatest kings build monuments to their glory, only to have them crumble and fade. How much greater is the world than their glory? The purpose of the world renews itself with each season. Each change only marks a part of the greater whole. The sea and the sky themselves: nothing special. Only pieces.” She snaps it shut, thinking-not-thinking where she has heard it before, a Qunari woman in prison once, intoning those four words like a prayer to an atheist god, nothing special only pieces nothing special only pieces. The sounds of the fighting stops abruptly, and Blackwall comes crashing into the barracks. “That’s the last of them,” he says, panting. “The last of the demons. And the fucking Orlesians. Are you alright?” Imladris glances at the corpse, who turns its sightlesss eyes to gape at her. She blasts it with fire, leaping back towards the stairs as Iron Bull cleaves it with his huge greataxe. When they are done the girl is eviscerated, but whatever took her has returned in tatters to the Fade. They leave the room behind, but Imladris takes the Soul Canto with her.

For the Josephine/Leliana story, I signed up for Sapphic Solstice and my girlfriend ended up getting assigned me. This is the story she’s not writing, because I decided I wanted to do it. I decided I wanted to write more femslash in DA after she told me it accounts for less than 10% of fanfic, and why not them? I have only one line: “The food was bad and the shoes were worse.” Hilda, though, is a short story I’m working on, loosely based off my own grandmother. It’s about a whole host of things--how Eastern Europeans assimilated into USA whiteness & thus respectability, the rage of older women who have cut themselves into pieces for an ideal that has always lied to them, the sex work of bad marriages. I’ll put the rest under a cut. My original work tends to be very, very intense, though I've written some sillier stuff ("Nice Try, FBI" is the fucking funniest thing I've ever written, and I'm very proud of it). This one, though, is very much serious. Probably one of the nastier things I've written about, though I hope the fact that I'm writing it with compassion comes through. (but that's another conversation--I don't believe in writing with dislike!)

My grandmother was a Czech and Russian Jewish woman whose first language was not English, who told everyone she was Irish Catholic like her first husband, my grandfather, who died when my mother was a child. She kept having children to try and get that boy, put kept pushing out daughters, even as the family fell more and more into poverty. They’d move every month to avoid avoid getting evicted by the landlord when the rent was due, for example. And then my grandfather died, and my grandmother put herself to work as a secretary to explicitly seduce and marry her bosses, and netted three of them. She once told my mother, “Some women are meant to be secretaries. Others are meant to be married. I’m meant to be married.” That was the only two options she presented, and the only two options she still considers acceptable.

So it’s about those angry, hateful old women who never had any chance to be anything besides a helpmate for a man, who refused any chance to be anything besides a wife, who actively sabotaged her daughters and granddaughters who tried to be anything besides wives. There’s been this tendency in recent family epics I’ve seen from other white Americans writing about their ancestors’ “immigrant & assimilation experience” in very romantic terms, though the Seven or Eight Deaths of Stella Fortuna pushes back against that for the Italian-American experience, and was what made me think that maybe it’s time to tell these stories that before, only get whispered after a few drinks while the women are cleaning up after Easter dinner in the kitchen. It’s experimental, and I suppose it's a very USA story! I want it to be fully drenched in its time--a small town half an hour outside of New York City, from the perspective of a woman who was born a bastard in 1938, raised by drunks and who married drunks. I’m writing it in the 2nd person and in stream-of-consciousness, and I took a break before I get to the climax. Here’s a snippet, content warning for the protagonist’s memory of antisemitism:

You do the dishes and run the water too hot, and you think about how you want a new kitchen, with enamel finishings, and little hens to pretend you have the comfort of a country life. Your mother was from the country, in the old country, and she hated New York. Too dirty, too loud, too prying. The neighbors would listen when she cried, and the whole neighborhood knew about the traveling salesman, and that he was a Jew, too. She’d cry over your curls; she herself was a perfect blonde, just like Jayne Mansfield, with the swoop of hair and a birthmark too. You hated it, you hated your hair, and so did your mother and she burned you and the kitchen too when you were a girl, trying to iron it out. The fire department all came and they laughed and they were rude to your mother, and the neighbors heard, and all the girls at school did too, and even after the birth of your third daughter, the women would smirk when you’d go by. You’re angry, you’re angry that you bleached your hair and you’re losing it, you’re angry that Shirley Temple had those curls and she never straightened them, everyone loved them and you had the same exact curls and nobody loved you, did they? Except those men. They loved something. At least you kept them away from your girls. Better than your mother, that’s the truth.

#ask #writing #wip #inquisitoracorn