#As the next chapters play in winter will they try to release them before march?

[angstsfordays]

Beautiful Pain (3)

Chapter Three- Found You

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Enhanced! Reader

Summary: Post-Blip, you started to feel lost when most of the Avengers team are gone. Coping with your loss, you still find hope in the connection with your remaining friends. However, it is not easy as everyone is trying to figure their lives after the Blip.

Having a long history with Bucky ever since you both saved each other from Hydra, you were still glad you had Bucky after all this time. However, as you try to give Bucky space to find himself after being pardoned for his past, you start to wonder if you should ever cross the line of friendship before it’s too late.

That thought might have to be put on hold though, when you, Sam and Bucky find yourselves having to deal with threats that continue to rise in a post-Blip world.

Chapter synopsis: The three of you decide to take matters into your own hands which lead to the most unexpected alliance.

Warnings: None.

Word count: 4.3k

Notes: Hey everyone! This chapter covers the second half of episode 2 and the beginning of ep 3. Subtle hints of Bucky x reader here and there, but more importantly I want to cover how the reader plays into the dynamics of relationships in the series.

More Bucky x reader interactions in the next chapter, I promise!

The tag list is still open! Let me know if you want to join in with a message or comment in the chapters!

Leave a comment to let me know what you think! 🥰

I really appreciate it! 🙏🏼

Previous: Prologue | Chapter One | Chapter Two

Next: Chapter Four

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The three of you changed back to more comfortable clothes before meeting up to find the man that Bucky wanted you and Sam to meet.

Walking on the streets of a neighbour in Baltimore, you were curious to know who the mysterious man was. As Bucky continued to lead the way, a kid on the street called out to Sam calling him the Black Falcon.

You beamed widely at the innocence of the kid who was excited to see a hero he had known. Sam went on to correct the kid and ended up engaging in funny banter with the kid.

You couldn’t help but grin at how effortless Sam was with people. He was different from Steve but you knew that Sam embodied his spirit with his own character. He would be such as good captain in your heart.

Soon, the three of you arrived at the house and Bucky went to knock on the door. When someone came to answer the door, you tried to put on your friendliest face to greet them.

Bucky asked for someone named Isaiah to which the young boy in front of you claimed that there was no one of that name.

Bucky didn’t give up and continue pressing on, claiming that you all just wanted to talk. It wasn’t very obvious but you could tell the boy was starting to get defensive and reiterated his point.

He was hiding something and didn’t want the three of you to inquire further. As a last resort, Bucky asked the boy to pass on a message that he was sure to able to reach out to the person you were supposed to meet.

The boy told us to wait while he closed the door. Sam questioned about how Bucky had met this person to which he replied that they met back during the Korean war. If your calculations, that was almost 70 years ago which only meant this person must at least be in his nineties.

Your deduction was confirmed when you were all let into the house and you came face to face with an aged man. The man looked less than friendly and was looking over the three of you with a hardened expression.

Gingerly walking closer, you saw how the man known as Isaiah looked fit for someone of his age. Bucky started off by introducing both you and Sam to Isaiah and vice versa. You tried to put on a polite smile despite the tense atmosphere.

Bucky went on to explain how Isaiah was a hero and was once feared most by HYDRA, just like how Steve was and that they met in 1951.

Isaiah took over the conversation and that was when you learnt that Isaiah was with the U.S military and they had sent him to go after Bucky when he was still the Winter Soldier. You could the small smile forming as he retold of how he managed to take out Bucky’s metal arm in Goyang.

You thought that Isaiah was starting to warm up but as he continued speaking, you knew he was still reserved.

“I’m not a killer anymore,” Bucky emphasized to Isaiah but the aged man wasn’t pleased.

“You think you can wake up one day and decide who you wanna be? It doesn’t work like that. Well, maybe it does for folks like you.” Isaiah responded as he stared back straight into Bucky’s eyes.

Bucky took a deep breath to steady himself before continuing on. He explained the situation that there were possibly more super soldiers like him and Isaiah. When you heard that, your eyes widened in shock at the revelation.

“I’m not going to talk about it anymore.” Isaiah was seething with anger and threw a metal box into the wall. The non-blunt object that impaled into the wooden wall only serves to exemplify how Isaiah was enhanced like Steve and Bucky.

You winced at his action and looked over to see the young boy who you presumed to be Isaiah’s grandson looking down in silence.

Isaiah stepped closer towards Bucky and spoke once more. This time, instead of lashing out, his voice was shaking.

“You know what they did to me for being a hero?” Isaiah paused shortly before speaking his next sentence. “They put my ass in jail for 30 years.”

Once you heard his words, you immediately looked down with indescribable emotions. Isaiah continue to tell of how he was treated like nothing more than an object, having people run tests on him, taking his blood and going into his cells.

“Even your people weren’t done with me.” Isaiah directed his words at Bucky once more.

Sam tried to calm Isaiah down but the man was livid. He shouted for all three of you to leave his home and everyone retreated without a question. As Sam and Bucky filed out of the door, you turned your back to throw a last look at Isaiah who was still fuming silently.

You gave a slight bow to show a sign of respect and apology.

“A warning, miss.” Surprised to hear Isaiah speak to you directly, you looked up to meet his eyes.

“My grandson spoke of you before. You and I are the same even if we were made differently.”

“What? I don’t understand.” Blinking your eyes in confusion, you waited to hear Isaiah’s explanation.

“I don’t know how you have gotten your abilities. But if you don’t stay low and keep your head down, they will come for you and do the same things to you that they did to me.” You took a sharp intake of breath at Isaiah’s warning. It only heightened the fears you already had, making it more real.

You thanked Isaiah quietly before making a move to catch up with your friends. When you reached the steps, Bucky and Sam were already walking ahead of you.

You proceeded to follow them before glancing back to see Isaiah’s grandson giving you a nod of acknowledgement before he closed the door. You could already the argument as Sam confronted Bucky on why he only let you two know about Isaiah only now.

Sam continued to question why there was a Black super soldier decades ago and why nobody knew about it?

“Guys, let’s not do this here-” You tried to intervene when you noticed a police car driving around the corner to where you all were.

The car stopped at where you all stood and the officers stepped out to inquire about what was going on. Sam replied that everyone was just talking and it was nothing to worry about. When the officers started asking for identification, Sam remarked that he didn’t have any.

Bucky tried to pacify the officers who insisted to engage in the situation. It was not a pleasant exchange of words as it seemed like it was going nowhere with the officers trying to probe and Sam trying to deflect.

“There’s nothing going on. We are all just friends talking things out.” You tried to give a brief but succinct explanation to get the officers to back off.

The officer clearly ignored your words before continuing to ask Bucky if Sam was bothering him. Bucky had it and went ahead to ask if the officer actually knew who Sam was.

Another officer came up to whisper into his partner’s ear and you could hear him telling him of your identities. The officer quickly retracted his initial behaviour and apologised to Sam.

“Mam.” You see the officer now acknowledging your presence only when he knew of your title.

You just grimly stared back in response before looking around to see that you have gained the attention of onlookers in the neighbourhood. The officers went back to the vehicle while Bucky continued from where you all left off on the conversation.

Bucky explained that he didn’t let anyone know about Isaiah since the man had been through so much. You had to agree on his reasoning and you knew Sam did too.

The officer came out again to let Bucky know that there was a warrant out for his arrest.

“Look, the president pardoned him for all that,” Sam interjected but the officer claimed it was not for that reason. Instead, Bucky had missed his court-mandated therapy and that was akin to missing a check-in with a parole officer.

He apologised before having to call for Bucky’s arrest. As Bucky walked over to the car, the officer took out the handcuffs. That set you off as you marched forward.

“Hey, don’t treat him like a criminal. He’s not going to do anything.” You tried intervening to which the officers telling you that it was standard protocol.

“Don’t worry, doll. It’s fine.” Bucky gave you a brief smile before getting into the back of the car. He gave Sam a last look before giving you one that tried to reassure you once more. As the police car drove off, Sam approached you and you two made your way to the police station together.

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Once you arrived at the station, you sat with Sam as you waited for Bucky’s release. From the corner of your eye, you could see Dr Raynor, Bucky’s therapist coming to approach the two of you.

“Sam, I’ve heard a lot about you.” Dr Raynor extended a hand to Sam before continuing to introduce herself. As you met eyes with her next, she moved her hand to you and you returned the gesture.

“It’s good to see you again, Y/N.”

“Likewise, doctor”. You exchanged pleasantries with her before Sam gave his thanks to her for getting Bucky out. Dr Raynor denied the credits for it and the two of you exchanged a confused look before you heard a familiar voice.

“Christina!”

You and Sam managed to mirror the exact same expression before he inquired how Dr Raynor knew John Walker. Apparently, they worked together back in their military days.

What a small world.

With a smug look, John claimed that Bucky would not need to follow a strict schedule which raised your brows in question. Dr Raynor asked whose authorization was this on to which John pointed to himself with a pleased smile.

You wished you could wipe it off his face.

“He’s too valuable of an asset to be tied up. Just do whatever you go to do with him, then send him off to me.” That word was a trigger for you. Knowing Bucky’s past and how that word only reduced him to some sort of objectification. You couldn’t help the need to say your piece to him.

“Don’t talk about him like that.” You shot back to Walker and he gave you a quizzed look. “Like what?”

“Like his only value boils down to how well he can fight for your task force. You talk about him like he’s some object for your use when he’s a person.” You tried defending Bucky’s honour.

Sensing your enmity, John raised two hands to show that he meant no harm.

“A little bit too much here, Y/N. You’re his girlfriend or something?” John’s casual remark took you aback especially for what he implied in the second sentence. A sudden sense of shyness overcame you as you did not what to say in response.

You struggled for the right words to say and looked over to Sam who gave you an inquisitive look before you saw Bucky coming out. You made no indication to give John Walker an answer as you made your way towards your friend.

You could hear John saying that he had unfinished business with Bucky, Sam and you before indicating he will be waiting outside.

“Hey, you okay?” You spoke softly to Bucky who nodded in response. “They didn’t do anything to you, right?” You added on. Your worry for Bucky only made him grinned at how you were so concerned over him.

Bucky placed his hand at the back of your head and stroked your hair to calm you down.

“I’m fine. Really.” Bucky tried to convince you as you pouted. His hand mover over to your cheeks as he went on to hold your face gently. Bucky gave you a small pinch on your cheeks to tease how you could look cute while being worried at the same time.

“James, condition of your release, a session now. You too, Sam.” Dr Raynor instructed. Sam tried to excuse himself but Dr Raynor was not having it, saying it wasn’t a request. As she looked over at you, she gave you a reassuring smile.

“Would just need these two boys. You’re fine, dear.” Nodding politely to her, you tried to tell the boys to behave with a faked stern expression as they turned back to give you the last look before they walked off with Dr Raynor.

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Turned out the session didn’t really go well when you saw both men walked out with hardened expressions on their faces. As the three of you stepped out of the precinct, you saw a flash of red and blue lights accompanied by the sound of a siren.

You looked over to see John and Lemar leaning against a police car and reluctantly approached them.

John once again tried to propose that it was better to work together. Sam considered it for a moment and decided to inquire further. Apparently, the leader of the Flag Smashers is Karli Morgenthau. Civilians have been helping this group to hide safely from the authorities and move to new locations discreetly.

Her rough location was predicted to be in displaced communities across central and eastern Europe. Bucky being the cynic he was towards John Walker tried to get John Walker to give an exact location.

The two of them gave heated exchanges before Bucky decided to taunt John Walker. You could see the latter’s patience wearing thin. He was trying to be patient and nice with all of you all this while but you were all hard on him.

You almost started to feel a little bad.

Sam stepped in before it felt like things were going to escalate and reiterated the most important point- which was that the Flag Smashers had to be stopped at all costs.

They were too dangerous to be roaming out freely on their own. Shoot, it sounded hypocritical coming from you when you were experiencing the same thing. They weren’t killing anyone, they were just trying to deliver medicines and vaccines to vulnerable communities.

Was that really a bad thing? You thought.

You turned your attention back to the conversation and picked up from how Sam said that it was better that you all were separately from John and Lemar. After all, you were all free agents versus them working under an establishment.

It would be challenging for you three to have to conform and work with stipulated regulations and authorizations. That was your cue to walk away but John spoke up once again, stopping you in your tracks.

“A word of advice then. Stay the hell out of my way.” It sounded more like a threat than advice.

“Y/N, last chance. The offer still stands.” John Walker shoots his last shot towards you. You peered over to see Bucky and Sam staring at you intently.

You shook your head before you spoke. “Sorry, I’m with my boys till the end.”

“You will regret it.” John tried to make you feel bad but you knew it wouldn’t work on you.

“We’ll see, Walker.” You just threw a smirk and a mock salute his way before turning back.

Sam clapped you on the back and rested his hands on your shoulder as you all walked off. Bucky placed his arms around your waist and gave you a gentle pat on your side.

For once, they were on the page on something and that was being proud of you.

As the three of you contemplated on what to do next, Bucky insinuated something in his words. Sam knew what he was implying immediately tried to refute the idea.

When the gears started shifted in your brain, you grabbed onto Bucky’s arms to stop him in his tracks. You shook your head before the words even came out.

Letting out a sigh, he tried to talk reason to you. “Doll, you know he is the only one to know all of HYDRA’s secrets. Don’t you remember Siberia?”

“Yes, which exactly why it is a bad idea! Do you remember what he did to you back then? To us? He’s scheming and manipulative, you can’t trust him.” You argued back.

“Y/N, he has a point if we want a start.” Sam chimed in to convince you. You begrudgingly gave in as Sam continued.

“So you’re just going to go up and sit in a room with this guy?” Bucky gave a hesitant yes.

Sam gave it a few more thoughts before affirming that it’s time to pay Zemo a visit.

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The trip to pay Zemo a visit required you to pack up and head over to Germany. Standing outside the prison, your gut still told you that this was a bad idea.

Who knows if Zemo might try to get into Bucky’s head again?

Once you were led through the corridors nearing Zemo’s cell, the officer left you, Sam and Bucky. “I’m going in alone,” Bucky stated citing that considering Sam and you were both technically associated with the Avengers.

Sam refuted his reason as Zemo was still viewed as dangerous, given that a man like him could have broken up the Avengers.

Bucky emphasized that Zemo was obsessed with HYDRA and they had a history together. Your rolled your eyes at the comment and still showed your disapproval.

“Trust me, I got it.” He told Sam before looking back at you. Bucky knew you had reasonable doubts but he had to do this on his own. He placed his hand on your cheek, his thumb caressed it affectionately for a short moment before letting go and walking off.

As you waited outside with Sam, the two of you kept quiet for a minute before Sam spoke up first.

“You know, I’m not the biggest fan of cyborg in there but he’s really lucky to have you.” Looking over to Sam who gave you an endearing gaze like a big brother would, you muttered a quiet thanks, not knowing what else to say.

“Tell me, how do you stand that grumpy old ass? Seems like he’s not a great company with his brooding all day.” Sam tried to quip to make the conversation light-hearted. You chuckled at hearing his usual snide remarks about Bucky and then took a moment to think about his question.

“He does not brood all day. You just need to know how to make him smile and laugh.” You answered thoughtfully, unbeknown to you Sam was quietly observing the expression on your face.

Your bashful grin did not go unnoticed by him but you didn’t know you were even making such an expression when you continued to talk about Bucky.

“Bucky is a cynic at times, but he’s such a softie. You know he always has lunch with his 70-year-old neighbour on Wednesday to keep him company. The man’s son passed away many years ago and he had no one left. Bucky is the only one he interacts with on most days. ” You painted a different side of Bucky, one that you were familiar with and you hope Sam could learn to know.

“After all he’s been through, I believe Bucky can overcome anything that comes his way. I hope that I can help to find himself and find peace with himself again. He deserves to be happy.” You got so engrossed in singing Bucky’s praises that you didn’t notice Sam observing you with a gleeful look.

When you realised that you have been rambling, you paused yourself to look over to see Sam with a weird expression.

“What?” He chuckled and shook his head.

“Besides Steve, I can’t see anyone who likes him as much as you do.” His words got you flustered as you felt him implying it in a different meaning.

“Well, as friends of course-” You tried to correct the context before he stopped you from finishing your sentence.

“Sure, sure. Keep telling yourself that, sis.” Sam placed his arms around your neck and ruffled your hair playfully.

“Hey!” You countered back playfully before the two of you continued to play around light-heartedly.

Your lively banter reminded you of the lighter moments from your Avenger days with your friends and you suddenly paused in our actions to give Sam a hug.

“I missed you, Sam.” Before you knew it, the tears started welling up as you started to think about old friends.

Sam returned the hug and he knew by your words what you had meant. Before Wanda, you were the youngest in the team and everyone doted on you like a baby. Even with new additions to the team, everyone still regarded you as a darling. Losing half of the team in the fight with Thanos would have the most impact on you.

Looking down at you quietly sobbing in his arms, Sam thought that even though he had seen you grown up over the years, you were always still the little sister figure in the team.

Even though you were given such extraordinary abilities and viewed as a powerful fighter, he thought that you were no different from any ordinary woman trying to live her best life.

You once confided in him that you hoped to quickly retire from fighting and live a life that would truly make you happy. The guilt started seeping in as he knew he had unknowingly dragged you back to another fight.

Once this was all over, he hoped that you can be free to live that life you wanted.

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Once the visit was over, Bucky led you and Sam to a garage. He suggested the idea of breaking Zemo out of jail and both of you immediately threw up arms.

Sam thought Bucky lost his mind and you did too. Sam started listing off the reasons why getting Zemo out was a bad idea and you added in your piece. Bucky still seemed to be insistent on the idea and you literally grabbed your head in frustration.

When Bucky tried to reason and come up with a hypothetical, you already knew he was up to no good. Bucky continued talking about how a plan could be formulated to break Zemo and it sounded way too well thought out.

Sam felt uneasy just like you and exclaimed to ask Bucky where exactly you all were. When Bucky didn’t answer, Sam already turned his head to see movement from across everyone. You turned your head too to see someone entering the scene and you had a hunch you knew who it was and that you weren’t going to like it.

As Zemo stepped forward in prison warden’s uniform, you were stunned for words but more importantly, you were outraged.

“Bucky! I can’t believe you-” You exclaimed.

“Doll, let me explain.” He tried to pacify you.

“I didn’t want to tell you two because I knew you two wouldn’t let this happen.” Bucky tried to justify his actions and held Sam back from moving onto Zemo.

“You’re going back to prison.” Sam directed at Zemo before turning back to Bucky.

Zemo, for the first time, tried to speak up in the chaos.

“If I may-”

“NO!” Sam and Bucky shut him down immediately. You skipped ahead to go up to the man and grabbed him by the collars. Your hands were threatening to light up with your bright energy flames and Zemo showed a fearful look beside his usual demeanour.

“You’re gonna get it from me, you punk!” Your teeth clenched as the words came out and Zemo held his hands up in surrender.

“Apologies, miss. I mean no harm.” You felt Bucky holding you back and untangling your fingers from Zemo’s collars.

“Y/N, please listen to me first.” You unwillingly gave in once you saw Bucky give you a puppy-eyed pleading look. You gritted your teeth and clenched your fists before giving him a look that said you were willing to listen.

Bucky looked over to you and Sam, trying to appeal for your co-operation. “The two of you backed Steve when he refused to sign the Sokovia Accords. You both broke the law and stuck your neck out for me. I’m asking you to do it for me again, please.”

“I really think I’m invaluable-” Zemo tried to appeal himself but he was met with Sam’s telling of him to shut up. You turned to glare at Zemo and he backed off once more.

You and Sam looked at each other, subsequently both coming to agree on the plan. Sam then turned to Zemo and warned him to play any games. Zemo was not to even move without permission and he agreed that it was fair.

You later learnt that you were in Zemo’s personal garage and while you were amazed by his car collections, you made sure to not get distracted while you were around the man.

Zemo made clear that his intentions were to end the Winter Soldier program and thus your goals were aligned in stopping the Flag Smashers. He was even confident in knowing where to start as he gathered up his things and continued to lead the way.

You still couldn’t believe that you had to work with the man that framed Bucky and caused the lives of many innocent people to be taken away.

You could never trust him entirely and you made sure that if it counts down to the worst-case scenario, you would be willing to go further than you usually did in handling people like him.

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Tag list:

@tanyaherondale @spookycereal-s @cataves

[chaoticpuff17]

Suga, We’re Going Down

part 3

Masterlist

Alright my darlings! Sorry this chapter isn’t more exciting after a long wait, but school is kicking my ass. Hopefully this still has some surprises for you though!---chaotic puff

Y/N sat on the bus wondering to herself how she had gotten herself into this mess. The weight of the coat settled around her shoulders and the scent of his cologne wafting up from the thick fabric was a firm reminder that the night had not been a dream. Yoongi had insisted she needed a coat. It was too cold for her to be out without one. Nina had insisted that she couldn’t show up at the club in her old tan coat and the heavy knitted scarf that Halmeoni had made for her so many years before, so she’d been without any protection from the cold. Yoongi had given her his, draping the maroon material across her shoulders and wishing her goodnight when she realized that he realized that she didn’t have a coat of her own. He’d grinned waving off her concerns telling her he had plenty of other coats. She didn’t doubt it. The man was willing to pay her four million won per meeting. Of course he could afford more than one coat. It was probably nothing to him.

The man was oddly attentive to her. The whole thing was odd. What kind of man in his position was interested in a little mouse like her? She certainly wasn’t the prettiest woman in the world, and he had to have beautiful women swarming around him, models, actresses, idols. What had made him choose her? What made a man willing to pay so much money for a woman when he had so many other options before him?

It didn’t make sense, but who was she to question it? He was literally paying for her life, and they desperately needed the money. All she wanted to do was go home and curl up in her bed, see Eun Jae sleeping safe and sound. She would feel better after seeing him. She would feel like herself again, because she certainly didn’t feel like herself right now.

She felt, in part, like she was making a mistake, but she didn’t have many other options. And every single option she had would break her grandmother’s heart. There wasn’t an option that wouldn’t break her heart, but that didn’t matter. What mattered was her family.

Her father had sent them spiraling into a pit of debt they’d been trying to climb out of for years. Her music lessons hadn’t helped that burden, neither had her college tuition, but her grandfather had seen something in her from a young age. He had seen how much his granddaughter loved music, how the little girl looked at the keys of a piano in wonder. Her parents hadn’t cared. They hadn’t noticed, but her grandparents had, and they insisted on nurturing that spark.

The old man had bundled her up when she was just four years old, on a cold winter morning, and shuttled her off to her first piano lesson. There had been no looking back after that. When her grandfather died three years later, her grandmother took her to lessons.

At the age of seven, she’d discovered the cello, just after her grandfather’s passing. Her piano teacher had had a friend, who taught lessons, and had helped to negotiate a price that would be manageable for them. So from then on every Saturday of her childhood, she’d been marched first to her piano lesson as usual and then to her cello lesson. A year after her cello lessons started, her mother left, and from there, her father had only sunk them further and further into debt. Eventually, they could no longer support lessons for both instruments. One of them had to go, and so at the age of thirteen, there were no more piano lessons. She still played of course, but her main focus had become the cello.

Ha Jin had never showed any particular interest in anything like music, not sports, or language, or her studies, not the restaurant either. She wanted to be anything, but what they were, poor and insignificant. She was always getting into trouble. She had a reputation in their neighborhood for being a shoplifter, a poor student, and generally just a bad kid. She wasn’t someone parents wanted their children hanging around.

And then came the summer she turned seventeen. Y/N would never know how she did it, but Ha Jin had managed to force herself into a circle of people she never should have crossed paths with in the first place. It could never be said that Ha Jin wasn’t smart. She was in fact, very intelligent. She just wasn’t using that intelligence for academics. Instead she used it to weasel her way into a group of upper class, wealthy kids. She wanted more than their little restaurant, and in her eyes, those kids were her ticket to something better, her ticket out. That’s where she had met Eun Jae’s dad.

Kim Taehyung was the son of a well to do family. He was handsome, charismatic, and a little older than Y/N. Before anyone could talk some sense into her, Ha Jin had gotten swept up in the lies she had weaved around herself. She’d lied about so many things, her age, her family, her circumstances. It had gotten so bad she’d begun to see herself as being one of them. She thought they had accepted her, that she was one of them, but she was wrong. She was a pet, a project, an amusement. Specifically, she’d been Taehyung’s amusement, the silly little girl who hung off his every word, a summer fling that would quickly be forgotten. Once Ha Jin had gotten pregnant, there was no hiding her lies anymore. She was just seventeen, but she had a baby to think of. She was going to be a mother, and there would be no father to help.

Taehyung and his family wanted nothing to do with the pregnancy. It was a youthful indiscretion that wouldn’t ruin their son’s life. He was in college, the heir to a good family. They weren’t going to allow an illegitimate child to ruin that for him, let alone an illegitimate child from a youthful dalliance with a gold digger.

Ha Jin had been inconsolable. She was convinced that he was going to come for her that he was going to take her away and make her a great lady, claiming that he wouldn’t abandon his child. But everyone else knew that that would never be the case. The farther into her pregnancy she got, the more bitter Ha Jin became. It was a struggle for Y/N and her grandmother to get the younger girl to take care of herself. She didn’t want to see the doctor. She didn’t want to go to school. She didn’t want to take the vitamins she was supposed to take. She didn’t want to set up a nursery. She wanted the baby gone, blaming a child that hadn’t even been born yet for ruining her life.

It wasn’t even a week after Eun Jae was born that she took off. They hadn’t seen her since. She hadn’t even named the child. She remembered waking up in the middle of the night to Eun Jae’s screams. The poor little boy had been inconsolable. He was hungry, he was tired, and his diaper was uncomfortably full. She’d scooped up him up holding him close as she put together a bottle for him gently rocking him and cooing softly trying to settle the poor child. Ha Jin was nowhere to be found. She hadn’t left so much as a note behind.

From that point on, Eun Jae was her son. She and Halmeoni had named him after her grandfather, hoping the name would bring him the same happiness in life that her grandfather had had. They took him to all hid doctor’s appointments. He was a beautiful healthy baby, and the sweetest little one that there ever was, but they might have been biased.

Y/N was immensely relieved to arrive home, to get herself out of those heels and to see her baby. The house was quiet, indicating that Nina had successfully gotten the little one to bed. She was a good friend and a good aunt for Eun Jae, but she was notorious for being a push over when it came to him. But that hadn’t been the case on that night. She found them both curled up fast asleep on the bed. Eun Jae was tucked up under the blankets sprawled like a little starfish and clutching his favorite dinosaur. Bambam the dinosaur had been a gift right after he’d first been born. He never slept without it. Nina was curled up next to him on top of the blankets, equally as lost to sleep as the toddler.

Y/N couldn’t help but smile at the sight. Quietly she fished out some extra blankets. One she draped over Nina so she wouldn’t catch cold. The other she threw on the sofa. She’d make her bed there tonight so she wouldn’t disturb the pair that were already fast asleep. Talking to Nina about everything could wait. They all needed some sleep.

She woke up the next morning to Eun Jae bouncing on top of her screaming something about breakfast and cartoons. She groggily sat up rubbing the sleep from her eyes and smiling tiredly at her son.

“Okay, buddy. Just give eomma a minute, okay?” She asked smiling at him. She glanced over at the bed to see Nina turned over with her head under a pillow. Clearly she hadn’t been as ready to let go of sleep for the sake of the toddler.

She got up moving to the little kitchenette to make breakfast, all the while the little guy was hanging off her leg eagerly chattering about all the things he wanted them to do that day. Mostly it consisted of cartoons. As much as she loved him, she did not have the energy to deal with children’s cartoons and their horribly annoying theme songs without a strong cup of tea.

“Okay, buddy. You go take a seat, and I’ll start on breakfast.” She smiled, an evil glint in her eye. “You can wake up Auntie Nina if you want.”

The little boy perked up at that. He sped over to the bed, climbing up on the platform before throwing himself on top of the groggy woman.

“Wake up, Nini!” He screamed jumping up and down on the other woman. “It’s time for bweakfast!”

Nina rolled over shooting a glare at Y/N who was very innocently putting together the meal for them all. “If you get up now, I’ll make you coffee.” Y/N threw the offer over her shoulder smiling as she saw Nina tackle the little boy attacking him with tickles as revenge for his waking her up.

“Come on, Nini.” Eun Jae whined tugging at his aunt as soon as she released him. “We gotta watch cawtoons!”

“I’m up. I’m up.” She groaned pulling herself out of bed to join Y/N in the kitchen only stopping to turn on some cartoons to keep Eun Jae busy while the two women talked.

“So how did it go last night?”

“It was…” She paused trying to think of the words. “It was, Agust d.”

Nina froze turning to look at her friend with wide eyes. “It was who now?”

“It was Agust d.”

“Shut up!” Nina’s eyes widened even further. “You’re joking! It wasn’t!” Nina was an avid fan of Agust d. He was her favorite musician. She lived and breathed Agust d. “Was it?”

“That’s his coat.” She nudged her head in the direction of the table where the coat from last night was draped over a chair.

Nina rushed over seizing the item inspecting it. “This is his coat!” She shrieked eyes wild. “I’ve seen him wearing this in pictures! Why do you have Agust d’s coat?”

“You didn’t let me bring mine, and he didn’t want me to catch cold, and for god’s sake use your inside voice. Do you want the neighbor’s to hear?” She scolded.

“But it’s August d! You have to tell me everything.” She rushed into the kitchen hanging off her friend’s arm as she whined. “Why do you have all the luck? I should have made a profile too. You’ll introduce me right?” She stared at her making her eyes wide and pleading, trying to mimic the look Eun Jae had whenever he wanted something. It didn’t work.

“You want me to introduce you to my sugar daddy?” Y/N asked confusion coloring her tone.

“It’s Agust d!” Nina looked at her as though she was stupid. Agust d was her world. How could she not want to meet him? “You have to introduce me!”

Y/N couldn’t help but stare at her incredulously. Was this the same girl who had been worried about her safety just a few days ago? Wasn’t this the same girl who had tried to make sure this was what she really wanted? Now everything was okay because her sugar daddy was someone famous. Well, she had to admire Nina’s loyalty, even if it was to the idol and not to her.

“Nina.” She sighed leaning against the counter tiredly. “I don’t think that’s up to me. I haven’t even signed the contracts yet.”

“Eomma!” Eun Jae’s voice called out before he came crashing into her legs looking up at her with big dark eyes. “Juice?”

“What do we say?”

“Juice pwease!”

“Okay, buddy.” She smiled gently ruffling his hair before she moved to fulfill his request.

She handed the cup over to the toddler and watched him as he went to go settle himself in front of his cartoons again happily sipping at his juice. She couldn’t help the fond, if not tired, look that took over her features as she watched him.

“When do you sign the contracts?” Nina asked impatiently, eager to know everything about her friend’s encounter with the famous rapper.

“He said that they should be ready by Monday.”

“This is so exciting!” Nina squealed practically vibrating with excitement. “You’re going to be on Agust d’s arm!” She paused a dawning realization making her mouth drop open in shock. “You’ll get to fuck Agust d!”

Immediately, Y/N slapped her friend’s arm glaring at her before throwing a worried glance over at the little boy. “Little ears.” She hissed grateful that Eun Jae wasn’t paying them any attention. “We do not swear in front of the baby.”

“Sorry, Y/N.” Nina at least had the decency to look sheepish. “But Monday is only the day after tomorrow. Aren’t you nervous?”

“Petrified.”

part 4

[16woodsequ]

The Alternative Timeline; A Journey

If you don't know, I have spent the last two years writing a 2012-alternate timeline AU Marvel fanfic. (You can find it here).

It has grown way past anything that I could have ever imagined. In celebration of completing the final chapter of the fourth part, I thought I would make a post detailing this journey for anyone interested, because when I started this in 2019, I definitely did not expect to end up writing an epic of over 500,000 words.

Spoilers under the cut.

First off, I think it is important to note that before I started the first fic in this series, Alternatively, I had published a total of two (2) fics in the mcu universe. My very first Marvel fic Lessons Learned was posted January 2019. My second Marvel fic Never Again was posted March 2019. (Both of which combined have a total word count of 5,716.) And then, on May 4th, 2019, I watched Avengers: Endgame, and lost my mind.

Upon watching Endgame, I was struck immediately by the time-travel scene to 2012. The fact that 2023!Steve told 2012!Steve that Bucky was alive...and that he said 'Hail Hydra' to the STRIKE team in the elevator...never mind the fact that Loki got away with the Tesseract...

There was just so much potential there. I wanted to build an AU where Steve and Tony could be friends, and I was pumped to explore the consequences of 2023!Steve's 'Hail Hydra'. I thought this universe had the potential to right a lot of wrongs, and I just had to try it.

So first I had to start planning. This was right after Endgame was released, so there weren't a lot of posts going around about the alternate timeline. I had to come up with most of my theories and ideas myself.

Also, there were hardly any Youtube videos of the specific scenes I needed from Endgame, and there was no online script yet, because the movie was still in theatres. So I had to resort to shaky illegally filmed videos from people in theatre to get the dialogue I needed from the 2012 time-travel scene. It was a struggle. XD

Writing Alternatively

One big hurdle I had to figure out was how Steve would go undercover in Hydra. I knew I wanted him to, because that would be super interesting, and would allow him to find Bucky and take down Hydra from the inside, but I had to figure out how he convinced Hydra of his loyalty in the first place.

The path I chose (Steve claiming he is disillusioned with the modern world etc.) may seem rather obvious to the outside observer, but it might amuse you to learn I played around with the idea of Steve trying to claim he was secretly partial to Hydra even during the war. I honestly did spend a few days contemplating Steve somehow trying to say he was on Hydra's side even while he was actively fighting them. It makes me laugh to think about it now.

Obviously I went with a more believable lie, and eventually figured out everything I wanted to have happen in the story. At this point, I had no plans to write more than a single story.

Because Endgame had just come out, and I was so excited about this idea, I wanted to write it and get it out as fast as possible. For some reason I was worried that someone else would write the idea before I did. It felt like such an intriguing concept that I thought for sure other people would do it too. As such, I had several WIPs that I put on the back burner while I focused all my attention on writing Alternatively. (These WIPs still haven't been published, my writing has improved immensely over the last two years, so I think I might have to re-write them XD).

One thing that helped me a lot writing this story is I already had a lot of headcanons about the inner lives of the characters, and I was desperate for somewhere to put them. I hadn't had a chance yet to really write about Steve's PTSD, so that became a major theme in the story that helped push it along.

Alternatively was the longest story I had ever written when I first got started. Before writing Alternatively, the longest (published) word count I had was 7,544. And, I had only published one (1) multi-chapter fic, that had three chapters, and 4,621 words.

Looking at that, I doubt anyone could have imagined what I was about to undertake. Not even myself. But I really really wanted to write the story, so I ran with it.

I decided that I was going to write all the chapters first, before I published it. This is what I had been doing with my WIPs anyway (and I'm glad I did, or those things wouldn't have been updated for like, two years). I will admit that once I got to chapter 10 of Alternatively I was really tempted to just start posting it, because I was so excited and really wanted to start sharing it.

I managed to restrain myself though. It took my four months to write all twenty chapters of Alternatively. It was a frustrating process at times, because I had an idea in my head of what I wanted, but I felt like my writing skills were not on par with that ideal. I wanted this fic to be good, and it was hard to get it to where I wanted it. This got easier over time though, because one thing a project like this does is give you writing practice.

At the time, I didn't even have my own laptop, so I was writing on school computers, or my family computer. (I got a laptop once I started The Alternate Handler though, this story is actually part of what pushed me to get a laptop in the first place.)

Finally, I finished the last chapter, and I edited it for the final time, and then, on August 29th, 2019, I published the first chapter.

I was amazed at the response I received. Before this I had only written twelve stories, most of them oneshots. I'm not saying my story went viral or anything, but I got a lot more feedback than I was used to. This was super awesome, and made me even more excited to share what I had written.

Even as I was posting Alternatively, I didn't really expect to write any more in this universe. Except...there was so much about Bucky in this story that the reader didn't get to see. I knew all about it because I had to know what was going on in his head while Steve did his thing, but the readers wouldn't know more than Steve knew.

And so, as I posted Alternatively, a very determined plot-bunny began to work away at my brain. I actually gave into it at one point and wrote a little bit of what would become The Alternate Handler, but I stopped after the first four chapters for a while.

Fun fact: The first four chapters I wrote are actually the first two chapters of The Alternate Handler. Each chapter was only about 2,000 words long, so when I started writing the story in earnest, I combined the first four chapters into two.

I don't remember what exactly was the trigger that made me really want to write Bucky's side of things, but around the time that I posted chapter 10 of Alternatively, I started getting the same insane urge that had pushed me to write Alternatively in the first place, and I decided to go for a sequel.

Writing The Alternate Handler

I started posting this story Jan 2020.

I was excited to write this story, because of how interesting Bucky's thoughts were, but part of me was a little nervous that people would not be interested in reading the same fic from another pov. I knew it would be interesting, but I wasn't sure if people would give it a shot.

I decided to go for it anyways. I was pretty amazed at myself because I had just written something that was 100,000 words long, and people seemed to be liking it. (Of course, I never could have imagined that The Alternate Handler would double that. I definitely expected it to be about 20 chapters long like the first one.)

I decided that I wanted to get as much of The Alternate Handler finished before I finished posted Alternatively as I could, so that I could started posting The Alternate Handler right away. I felt that the best way to keep a steady readership was to make sure they could follow the next story right away.

That meant that I had only about 10 weeks to write as many chapters as I could. For all my stories, I had an outline of basic plot points, so I could keep track of everything I wanted to have happen. It was helpful, but also did not anticipate the scope of what would happen.

I had a general idea of what would happen, and I had vague ideas of scenes I wanted, but none of it was nailed down. As I wrote it felt like I was walking forward a few steps to illuminate the path I needed, and then snagging the right plot points out of the air.

Bucky's mindset also took some work to figure out. How do you write from the pov of someone who barely remembers anything? Does he know how to use metaphors? Does he know what a microwave is? How dependent is he? The first few chapters where Bucky is deep in his Winter Soldier programming took a lot of thought.

One of the fun things about writing this story was that I got to dive deeper into my headcanons of exactly how Hydra brainwashed Bucky. Before this I had some vague scenes and ideas, but this story really forced me to come up with a coherent timeline for Bucky's experience under Hydra, which is pretty cool. Once I had that, I could decide how and when I would reveal the pieces throughout the story.

Anyway, I managed to write 12 chapters of The Alternate Handler before I finished posting Alternatively. (Which is super impressive.) And somehow I managed to keep ahead of my posting schedule for twenty-eight more chapters.

I honestly can't believe it sometimes. I actually wrote a 40 chapter fic, and posted once a week for forty weeks, with only a head-start of 12 chapters. (And at the same time, I was like, finishing university and working. So no, I don't know how I survived.)

Reader influences: Unlike Alternatively, where I had everything written ahead of time, this story was still being written as I was posting, so the readership did have some influence on what I put out, which you may find interesting.

Bucky's arm: When I first started writing, I didn't have a concrete plan to replace Bucky's metal arm with something better. That may be a shocker, but that arc starts happening way later on into the story (around chap 32). Because of how long and intricate the plot and story is, there is simply no way I could plan every detail when I first got started. I didn't start offcially planning to have an arc around his arm until a reader mentioned in a comment that they hoped it would happen. (And I was like, 'oh yeah, that should definitely happen...eventually.' And made a note to work it in when it became appropriate.) The comment happened pretty early on in the story, so it was easy for me to start laying down the foundation for that arc.

Bucky's arm part two: Another thing a reader had a direct influence is the blue star Bucky has on his new arm. Originally I wasn't planning to have a star at all. I was going to have Bucky decide he didn't want one. But then I had a reader request that I keep the star, and I decided that keeping it would not upset any character development. I had already set up blue as an important colour in the story, so I decided to change Bucky's decision and have him request a blue star. I like it. It is a clear symbol of this Bucky, versus any other Bucky.

Surprises

One thing that surprised me while writing and posting this story, is the readership prediction for Bucky's choice of whether or not to fight. I posted a chapter that focused on Bucky watching himself react to being drafted, and then remembering himself choosing to follow Steve, and then cliffhangered on him having to decide if he wanted to join the Avengers.

I asked something in the author's notes about 'what do you think he will do?', and a surprising amount of people (to me anyways) thought that he would chose to fight. I had always planned to have Bucky retire from fighting, so I was a little shocked. I thought with a whole chapter about Bucky learning he never really wanted to fight at all, that people would think he would want to take a break.

I think the consensus came from the desire to see Bucky and Steve fight together like old times. I think Bucky joining Steve on missions is a common indication of him overcoming his past and avenging/revenging on Hydra, so in the end I am not surprised that a lot of people might expect that to happen.

Because of that response I was a little nervous people wouldn't be happy with Bucky's choice, but that doesn't seem to be the case. Bucky's arc and choosing not to fight is really important, and I think everyone is happy with how it went.

It took ten months to post all of The Alternate Handler. As I was writing, I was not planning to write anymore. I was mostly focused on finishing the story, and didn't expect to write a third part...

But, my traitorous mind whispered, this universe could fix everything. We can make Civil War less painful. We can keep them from fighting. We can do it properly.

To be honest, it didn't take a lot of convincing for me to give in and start planning An Alternate Approach.

Writing An Alternate Approach

I started posting this story Oct. 2020.

I started planning this with a lot of time to spare. I still had most of The Alternate Handler to write and finish posting when I decided to go for this fic too.

Some challenges were that I wanted to show the Avengers going through the same things as the original Avengers, but doing it better. I had already gotten rid of the Winter Soldier problem, and Tony knew about his parents, so we didn't have to deal with any of that, but I still wanted to do the UN bombing and that drama, because T'Chaka's death is very important to T'Challa's and Wakanda's development, so I felt it still needed to happen.

Of course...I had nipped Ultron in the bud, meaning Sokovia wasn't destroyed, and Zemo had no reason to go after Bucky.

Thankfully, I came up with the idea of having Rumlow do it in time to foreshadow it a little in The Alternate Handler (the fact that they never find him, even though they know he is out there etc.)

Like last time, I wanted to post The Alternate Approach as soon as I finished The Alternate Handler. It was a bit of a crunch time for me, but I managed to get all eight chapters finished in time. I basically finished writing The Alternate Handler and immediately started writing An Alternate Approach. I finished The Alternate Handler August 1st, and finished the last chapter of The Alternate Approach September 10th.

Originally I was expecting An Alternate Approach to be a bit longer, but things happened quicker than I thought they would.

A challenge for this story is that most of it happens during a movie. There was a lot of original stuff happening and interesting inner thoughts, but I was restricted in what I could do because of the script I still had to refer to. Also because this story was only eight chapters long, I didn't have as much space to work through character development.

Reader influences: Like with Alternatively, I managed to finish the story before I posted it, but the readers did have a little influence on the content.

Mostly it had to do with their reaction to Everette Ross. I think a challenge with this story is there is Everette Ross, and there is Thaddeus Ross. Thaddeus Ross is much worse than Everette Ross, but I think the readers mixed the two up sometimes because they share the same last name.

To top it off, I wanted to show Everette Ross' character arc a little, because he obviously changes from Civil War to Black Panther. There wasn't a lot of space to show the glimpse of his character and how he could be better than he seems. The readership really hated him at times, so I did edit his lines and facial expressions a little to try to make it clear that he thinks differently than Thaddeus Ross.

Actually, in chapter five, Steve has a nightmare about Hydra trying to wipe Bucky and trapping Steve in the SSR capsule he got the serum in. Originally, I was going to have the main villain in the dream be Thaddeus Ross, to symbolise how Steve was uneasy around him, and how Ross thought of Bucky. But the readership was already literally out for Ross' blood, and suspected him to be Hydra (which was not canon in the story). They really wanted something bad to happen to Ross, but I knew that wouldn't happen, so I decided to change Ross to Rumlow in the dream. This helped foreshadow Rumlow's later involvement, and it also didn't give the reader any more reasons to hate or suspect Ross.

If I were to write this again, I think I would try to make it more clear which Ross it which, since I think the same last names really didn't help the situation.

Writing The Alternate End

I started posting this story Nov 2020.

For a long time, I never intended to write The Alternate End. I had The Alternate Approach all planned out, but I was adamant that this time, I was 100% not going to write any more.

This not because I didn't like the series. I loved it, and my readers loved it too. But at the time, I hadn't finished The Alternate Handler yet, and I hadn't even started The Alternate Approach.

The thought of trying to write an Endgame fic felt a little overwhelming. I was worried I would run out of momentum at some point, and I would leave my readers hanging. I had been writing and posting a chapter a week for over a year at that point, and I wasn't sure if I would be able to keep it up for as long as I needed.

While I was trying to dodge plot-bunnies, I tried to convince myself that an Endgame fic wouldn't be interesting. I figured it would be just the same as any other Endgame fix-it fic. I was truly convinced that the readers would be satisfied by me bringing them all the way to Civil War, and then just, ending it there.

It makes me laugh to think about it now. I really thought I could just be like "The End! I'm sure you can imagine the rest" XD.

And then I was at work one day, thinking about the next chapter of The Alternate Handler, and thinking of how much I still had to write, including The Alternate Approach...and thinking pointedly that I was not going to write an Endgame fic...and then my traitorous brain decided to speak up again.

I had exactly two (2) thoughts that were my downfall. First my brain was like: What if we wrote it from Tony's pov? We've never written it from Tony's pov before.

And plot-bunny-brain was like "ooooh". But I was like, "No! It will still be a normal Endgame fix-it fic. People can read other fix-it fics if they want to know what happens."

And then my brain was like, What about the fact that they know about the time-travellers? What if they decide to leave a message about Thanos when they time-travel?

It makes me laugh to think that the simple warning message that Tony gives his alternate-self is the spark that got this story going. Once I started writing it, that scene was not what I looked forward to the most. But at the time, knowing about the time-travellers, and leaving a message behind was something completely unique to my AU, and so that is what I needed to jumpstart my desire to write this story.

As soon as I had those two thoughts, I knew I was done for. I actually stopped dead at work and stared ahead in betrayal and amusement. I was like, 'I really am going to write this, aren't I? I haven't even finished The Alternate Handler, but I'm going to plan out two whole stories to write after this, aren't I?'

And I did. I finished The Alternate Handler in the summer. Because I was already planning to write two more parts, I was able to set up some of what I needed for those parts in The Alternate Handler. (Such as Clint's family and Scott's introduction.)

I started writing The Alternate Approach as quickly as I could. I knew I only had a short window before school started again, and I wanted to get to The Alternate End as soon as possible so that I could get ahead on that.

Once I started posting The Alternate Approach, I had about eight weeks to write as many chapters of The Alternate End as I could. In the end, I managed to write ten chapters ahead of time, and I somehow managed to keep that lead for the rest of the twenty or so chapters.

I was a bit nervous about this fic, because it followed the movies for a while. I tried to keep at least one original scene in each chapter, and I thought Tony's pov was interesting, but I knew I wanted the Snap to happen. I also knew we had to start at the beginning of Infinity War, because we needed those scenes to establish character development and such.

Writing Tony was also its own challenge. Tony had already had a lot of character development, but we didn't see his side of it. He was in a better place than mcu!Tony, but I still needed him to be able to improve. It was a tricky balance trying to show the results of the character development he'd been having for three stories, while also making room for more.

Another thing about writing Tony is he has a lot more relationship dynamics to work with. In Steve's stories, his relationship dynamics are mostly between Bucky and Tony, and in Bucky's story the dynamics are mostly between him and Steve, and then eventually him and Tony, with a few snapshots of the other Avengers and his sister.

Tony has dynamics with Steve and Bucky, Rhodey, Pepper, and Peter. Plus any other Avengers who happen to be there. And then, Nebula and his relationship became unexpectedly important. It was a challenge to balance the relationships. I wanted to show Steve and Tony, because we had been watching it grow for ages now, but I also wanted to establish his relationship with Pepper, something we had only barely caught a glimpse of before.

On a different note, one thing I cursed Endgame for all the time was the sheer number of characters it has. In scenes with the whole cast I could be juggling 15-20 characters! It was a lot!

It took a lot of work, but I managed to finish The Alternate End three chapters ahead of time. It was a relief to finish, and I was excited for the approaching time I could start posting the oneshots I had planned for this universe.

Writing Alternative Options

I started posting this story May 2021.

I'm not sure exactly when I first got the idea to write oneshots within this universe. I think I had some readers suggest oneshots of different character's povs, and at that point I didn't even try to resist the plot-bunnies. I was just like, "why not?"

I had one reader request an alternate scene to chapter 10 of Alternatively waaaay back at the beginning of this adventure. It intrigued me, so I wrote it and shared it with them privately. I also had a scene I had to take out chapter 35 of The Alternate Handler, so since I already had those two documents sitting on my computer, it was nice to come up with somewhere to share them with everyone.

Also, like Bucky's pov in The Alternate Handler, I had a lot of extra content in my head of other character's motivations and povs that don't get spotlighted in the other stories. It's all in my head anyways, I might as well share it somewhere.

I wrote the first eight or so oneshots of Alternative Options whenever I felt particularly inspired. I wrote the very first chapter back in February 2021, but I actually wrote the second chapter way back in August 2020 (same with the onshot A Change in Protocol.) I rearranged the first eight chapters into what I thought would flow best.

Writing the oneshots was sometimes a nice break from my main project. I think the oneshots are a nice way to end off too, because there is less pressure on them. The story is done now, I can write and post the oneshots whenever I feel like it, but readers will always have a complete story to go back to.

Unexpected Things

Everything about this series was unexpected (even if most of the plot was pretty scripted), but some things still amuse me. As I got deeper into this universe, I was surprised at the amount of people who were concerned I would kill characters or end things angstily.

I remember when I announced I would be writing a Civil War inspired fic, many people were concerned that Steve and Tony would fight like they did in the movie. It didn't even occur to me to reassure people that this wouldn't happen, because it seemed so impossible to me.

To me it was obvious that I had fixed so many things already in this universe. It seemed so straightforward to me that certain things simply could not happen. (Of course, it would always seem obvious to the author.)

I think people were a lot more nervous for my Civil War story than I intended them to be.

And then, when we got to Endgame, people surprised me by hoping I wouldn't do the Snap at all. It had not occurred to me that people would hope that. I felt the Snap needed to happen. If it didn't happen, then we couldn't see any of the other painful things be fixed.

Then, people surprised me again because they were very worried that I would kill Tony and Natasha. I had basically spent the last two years writing a 500,000 word mcu fix-it series. I wasn't about to kill Tony and Natasha at the end.

Still, I am very good at pulling on angsty heartstrings, so I can see why people were concerned.

(That is another thing I did not expect, the amount of people who told my I made them cry with my writing. It touches me every time it happens.)

Take Away

If you made it to the end of this long post, congratulations!

What will I take away from this amazing experience? Well, first off, not to be intimidated by long story ideas. I probably wouldn't have written this if I had conceived how long it would be. Lucky for us, I dived head-first into this, and just kept swimming.

Another thing that I think is important, is you don't have to be a super experienced writer to write big things. I had written nothing even close to this when I started. And my writing improved a lot during this journey.

I think looking at the finished product it is easy to think that I am just naturally an awesome author, but two years ago that wouldn't have been the case. Don't be intimidated by the finished products of authors. That is the culmination of hours of work, and it does not mean you can't do the same thing if you feel a similarly insistent plot-bunny.

Finally, I would like to thank all my readers! If you've been around since I first started posting, then that is 94 weeks (plus whatever Alternative Options turns out to be) of reading a chapter a week from me! That is amazing!

If you joined later along the ride, that is just as awesome! Thank you for plunging into such a long series!

If you have any questions or want to chat with me about plot choices I made, or my thoughts behind certain scenes—or anything really—feel free!

I hope you enjoyed! :D

Tl;dr:

I never planned to write any of the stories after Alternatively, until about halfway through posting the preceding stories. Plot bunnies are really insistent, and I had stuff planned in the background anyways, so I had to share it. By the time I was about halfway through The Alternate Handler I had accepted that I was going to write two more stories in the universe.

It was a lot of work, and I had never written anything anywhere close to this giant project. It was a lot of fun though, and I'm glad I did it.

[shera-dnd]

Chapter 2 of our little Princess and Knight AU adventures. Now that we’re all familiar with the princess, I think it is time we were introduced to the knight in question

You can read this fic through the AO3 link above or under the read more link down here. Whichever one works for you.

That night the white knight marched into Lady Schnee’s tent. Though her stance was determined, her steps were weary after the long day of constant fighting, and her demoralizing defeat.

“Lady Weiss,” greeted the Schnee servant that waited within, “it’s good to see you well.”

He was a man whose largeness of body was only matched by that of his heart. Every word that left from under his full mustache was spoken with a care, and kindness, that Weiss had yet to receive from anyone else.

“It is good to see you as well, Klein,” she replied as she found herself a bench to slump on.

She took off her helmet for the first time all day, releasing her long ponytail of silver hair from its confinement. Taking a nearby piece of cloth she wiped the sweat that had gathered on her brow, and let out a sigh she had been holding all evening.

“I take it the tournament did not go as you expected,” he commented.

“I’ve lost,” she simply declared, not wanting to linger on this topic much longer.

“I’m truly sorry to hear it, my lady,” he replied, placing a hand on her shoulder, “but this is only your first tournament, Lady Weiss. There will be plenty of chances to make the people of Atlas see you for the knight you are.”

“Thank you, Klein,” she replied, offering the man the best smile she could manage, but it was as weak as she felt in that moment, “but I can’t help but dread that this humiliation has set a standard for my coming battles.”

“Humiliation is what you’ve brought upon half my men today,” her sister declared as she joined them within the tent.

The stern glacier of a woman that was Lady Winter of House Schnee, Knight of the Winter Maiden, grew but a few degrees warmer as she saw the defeated expression on her sister’s face, and for a moment the facade melted away; she was simply Winter.

“You fought well, Weiss,” she assured her, “you stood on equal footing with the Black Knight of Vale. That is not a feat to be taken lightly.”

“Thank you,” Weiss sighed, but accepted the praise, “I’m glad to have made good on our training.”

Winter gave her a nod and a proud smile, before the frigid winds of her duty froze her expression once again into that of Lady Schnee.

“Now, I must be on my way,” she informed, “Knight Commander Ironwood has requested my presence.”

“Of course,” Weiss replied, bowing her head slightly as she did so, “when should I expect your company again?”

Her sister stopped to think for a moment.

“If your identity is to remain a secret, I do not believe it is wise for us to meet in person any time soon,” she concluded. Weiss understood her decision, but that did not mean she found any joy in it.

“Understood,” she surrendered, “I wish you luck with your preparations, sister.”

“And you with yours.”

As she left she also seemed to take Weiss’s high spirits with her, leaving her only with her lingering frustration over her defeat, and dread over the coming month without her sister.

“I believe I am in need of some fresh air,” she eventually declared. She picked her helmet up and added, “I’ll just be stepping into the woods for a moment. No point risking exposing myself.”

“Do stay safe, Lady Weiss,” Klein asked, voice full of worry.

“I still have my sword and the iron of my armor,” she assured him, “unless Lady Blake returns for a second round, I believe I’ll be fine.”

As silently as she could, Weiss stepped away from the tent and quickly made her way to the forest; only removing her helmet again once she was sure she was fully out of sight of the festival goers. She took a deep breath, taking in the fresh scents of the forest that stretched around her, placing her focus anywhere but in the frustration that boiled inside her in that moment.

Weiss shook her head and groaned loudly, kicking at a patch of grass in her way. It wasn’t working. Perhaps a brisk walk would do better at working that disappointment out of her. Though certainly brisk, what she did do was closer to stomping than it was to walking.

Curse this tournament, curse this Black Knight, curse Lord Ironwood, and curse her father while she was at it!She always made a point to stop to curse him whenever such a foul mood struck her. It was a good habit to keep, all things considered. He always had at least some fault in her foul moods, and perhaps one day one of these curses would finally land and the bastard would die some ignoble death.

No, no, it wasn’t proper of her to get like this. She was the heiress of House Schnee and if she was to maintain such a title she had to play by his rules - Winter was living proof that he was not above rescinding such privileges after all - though at the very least this White Knight character allowed her some level of much needed freedom.

She leaned back against a nearby tree and rested her head against it, closing her eyes she took another long and deep breath. She had been gone for a while now, it was probably about time she returned to her tent. Wouldn’t want Klein to worry over her well being after all.

“We thought you were dead!” A voice furiously shouted in the distance.

“Good!” Another voice shouted back, “had I stopped to tell you my intentions you would have killed me on the spot instead!”

Weiss opened her eyes. Shit, she wasn’t alone in the woods anymore. She had to get back to camp before anyone caught her here.

“And with good reason!” The first voice replied, “you betrayed us!”

“What I have done was for the good of the fae,” the second voice returned in a steely tone, “you’re just too blinded by vengeance to realize it.”

The good of the fae? There were fae in these woods with her. She had to get away right now and…this could be her chance. Were she to strike a blow against the fae she would be welcomed home as a hero. Her father would have no basis to deny her her right to become a knight.

She snuck closer, trying to catch a glimpse of the two arguing faeries.

“I would rather let vengeance blind me than allow myself to be turned into their pet!” The first voice bit back.

“I am not their pet!” The second denied, “I am their equal!”

“And yet you don their symbols, you wear their face, and you play their game,” the first one continued.

Weiss could almost see them now. It was too dark and the forest was too thick around these parts for her to make out too much detail, but she could see the shapes of the fae locked in bitter argument.

“You may see me as subservient, but I have not forgotten my roots, unseelie,” the second retorted, “I am fae, but I am also a Knight of the Fall Maiden, and it is my duty both to my court and to my kingdom that I help them find peace.”

A fae knight? And one from Vale of all places? Now that was simply not possible. The fae couldn’t even touch iron, let alone wield it as a weapon. And who would even dare to bring one of them to their order in the first place? Only a mad man would ever try.

Weiss stepped forward, now more curious than ever as to who these fae might be. She had to be slow and careful now as to not catch their--

Snap went a twig under the weight of her boots. She looked up to the figures that argued in the woods, only to be met by a familiar pair of golden eyes staring at her and through her soul. It was her.

Weiss’s hand flew to her sword as she stepped back and braced herself for a fight. But as soon as her left foot moved back it was snagged by a root that hadn’t been there before. Maybe she should curse fae tricks next time too, if there was a next time.

When the Black Knight charged at her she did her best to block the blow, but with her posture already precarious as it was, she found herself being pushed to the ground. She raised her blade again, preparing to fight on her back if she had to, but the ‘knight’ deigned only to kick the blade aside and plant her boot on Weiss’s chest.

“Lady Weiss Schnee I presume,” ‘Lady’ Blake greeted, her form now fully human once more, “you have your sister’s scowl. I see it runs in the family.”

“What are you doing?” The other fae demanded, “kill her already.”

The human form that woman had taken was not unfamiliar to Weiss. She remembered the beautiful woman cheering for her from among the crowd, and had entertained asking her for her favor once the real tournament had started. So much for that thought.

“Ah yes, for no evil shall befall us or our people were we to kill the Schnee heir,” Blake replied, sarcasm nearly dripping from her voice.

“Try it,” Weiss challenged, “I’ll make sure you both burn before you have the chance to regret it.”

“That won’t be necessary, my lady,” Blake assured her, “my friend does not wish for the atlesians to find out who we are, and you don’t want your father to find out what you’ve been doing with your free time. I propose we keep each other’s secrets.”

“How are you so sure there is even a secret to be kept?” Weiss bluffed, “how are you to know I don’t have my father’s blessing?”

“I don’t believe you would have suffered those fools at the arena were you able to wield the weight of your name against them,” she countered.

Weiss scowled at her, furious at the thought of being so easily read. Still she refused to give in.

“I will not betray my kingdom by allowing you two to freely enact whatever plans you have,” she declared, “I’d rather you both slay me now than be complicit in your actions.”

“Do not tempt me, Schnee,” the woman in blue threatened.

“As belligerent as my companion is,” Blake interjected, “I don’t believe she has any nefarious plans for you to worry over.”

“Do you really want me to simply trust that you two are only here to enjoy the festival?”

“You are one to speak of trust, human,” the woman in blue countered.

“If it will dissuade your mistrust,” Blake sighed and stepped back from Weiss. She drew her sword and, taking a knee, she planted it on the ground, “I swear on my honor as a Knight of the Fall Maiden that neither me nor Ilia intend any harm and that if you are to keep our secret, we will keep yours too.”

Weiss was taken aback. Lady Blake’s oath carried the conviction of a knight. She spoke with the same unquestioning certainty that Winter had used when she swore herself to the Winter Maiden. Fae or no, there was no doubt in Weiss’s mind that Blake truly saw herself and carried herself as a true knight.

“What?” Ilia scoffed, “are we to simply trust the Schnee? After all her house has done to us?”

Weiss got up and reached for her sword. Ilia braced for a fight, but was caught by surprise when Weiss reached for Blake’s hand and helped her stand up again.

“And I swear on the name of my house,” that earned another scoff, “that I will do you both no harm as long as you do not bring me harm, and I shall keep your secret as long as you keep mine.”

Ilia remained unconvinced, but Lady Blake was relieved to hear it. She placed a hand on their shoulders as they brought them close. They were too busy glaring daggers at each other to spare Blake a scowl.

“Now that that is done with,” she began, “Lady Ilia, Lady Weiss, I believe it’s time we all got back to camp.”

[jamielea81]

Conversations

Chapter 14

Description: You accompany your friends on a day trip to Animal Kingdom Theme Park where you meet Scott Evans by chance. This one afternoon leads to a year long friendship with both Chris and Scott over text messages and phone calls.

Pairing: Chris Evans x Reader

Warning: So much fluff. A few curse words.

Word Count: 6,435

A/N: And here it is, the final chapter of this series. Thank you to all of you who followed along, reblogged and encouraged me to keep writing. More Chris Evans series are to come. Special thanks to @panicfob who asked me if I ever thought about writing a series like this and @allaboutthebooz who told me about a Steve Rogers Disney series she was writing which in turn really got me into a Disney frame of mind. Please tell me what you thought of the series! There will be two one-shots that accompany this. One will be posted next month with the second posted in March. Stay tuned. 

*Italics are internal thoughts

Catch up with Chapter 13

**

In retrospect, moving to New England in the midst of winter probably wasn’t a wise choice. When you moved to Florida all those years ago it was during the summer. It appears your timing is never right. You’ve slipped on icy sidewalks more times than you can count as it seems no one is nice enough to salt and sand the sidewalks surrounding their houses and businesses. You haven’t quite mastered public transportation so you take your chances walking the snowy roads for coffee and grocery items. You’ve learned parking really is a hot commodity until you get of further into the suburbs. For now, you’ll take the extra steps on your health app as they continue to grow.

Speaking of timing, Chris wasn’t even in the state when the moving truck rolled into town. You knew he wouldn’t be and it was probably better that way. You weren’t moving in together, so adjusting to the change without him would only further help you adjust with being on your own. The only caveat to that is you were rarely alone. The Evans clan had seemingly adopted you without your consent. Surprisingly, you were enjoying your adopted Massachusetts family.

When Chris told Lisa about your thoughts on moving to Boston, she asked to speak to you before you went home to Florida during your visit in October. If you were nervous the first time you met her, you were in full panic mode this time. Chris telling his mother everything was something you would need to get used to. God forbid you two have a huge fight at some point and then have to see his mom shortly after. Nope, that wouldn’t be awkward at all.

Chris drove you over with Dodger in tow. The two of them played outside while Lisa fixed you a cup of coffee and essentially asked what your intensions with her son were.

“I’m thinking about moving here to give Chris and I a fighting chance. The distance is hard, Lisa. You probably already know this, but he has flown to Orlando to see me three times in the last month and a half. He’s already busy and this is only wearing him down more. I don’t want that.” You took a breath, ignoring your coffee completely. “I’m not one of those women who’s trying to weasel her way in to his life. Chris and I were friends first and if this whole thing goes to hell, I hope we’re still friends because I’m not giving him or Scott up.”

Lisa smiled, stood up, pulled you to your feet and hugged you. “I think everything is going to turn out just how it should,” she said.

You sighed in relief. “Thanks, Lisa.”

“You should come for Christmas!” she blurted out after releasing you.

You chuckled softly. “My mother would kill me if I didn’t go home to Minnesota.”

“Well, we wouldn’t want that. Come the week after for New Year’s.” Before you could say no, she continued. “I insist.”

Looks like I’m going to Boston for New Years.

“Okay… We should probably check with Chris though.”

“Trust me, if you’re here, my son will be too.”

**

Christmas in Minnesota was interesting. A lot of the time was spent talking and explaining yourself. Your brother still wanted to kick Chris’ ass and you couldn’t blame him. The two of them hadn’t met and he was pissed when he saw those photos on TMZ. You made a mental note to get Chris and Heath together to bond. Heath didn’t know Chris like you did and he didn’t understand that the two of you had discussed your relationship at length and were committed to each other.

While your mother was sad that you had chosen not to move back home, she was happy for you and understood the need for a change. She teased you relentlessly about moving somewhere with a true winter. After graduating from college, you declared that you’d never live in a snowy state again. Now you had tentative plans with Lisa to apartment hunt next week.

Your father was another story. You weren’t above bribery so you took him to dinner at his favorite steakhouse. Hoping the appeal of an expensive cut of meat would put him in a cheery mood. It was Christmastime after all. His spirit should already be lighter.

When you changed jobs in October, you told him about it almost immediately. Gary didn’t appreciate being left in the dark. You never called him Gary to his face, but when you ever spoke about your dad to Jana, you referred to him as Gary much to her amusement. He wasn’t happy about the job change which was of no surprise to you. He didn’t understand why you would make a change when you had a great position with the paper. “This is just like you,” he had said. “You’re never settled.” It wasn’t a fair statement. You had been settled for years. Yes, you weren’t married and you didn’t own your own home, but you had a career and had been at the paper for years. You were well respected in your field. There was absolutely nothing wrong with moving on to a position that would bring you growth in your career as well as your personal life.  

If you hadn’t broken the news about the move in a public space, there was no doubt in your mind that he would have stormed out.

“Why on earth would you move to Massachusetts? I thought Florida was where you wanted to plant roots. This is just like you.”

There he goes with that same line. You sighed loudly, poking at your steak with your fork. You lowered your face, refusing to meet his eyes. It was like your twelve years old again, dropping out of soccer only to be lectured by your father.

“When are you going to get your life together?” he asked.

You snapped, well, you snapped as much as you could in a restaurant full of people having a holiday meal.

“That’s exactly it. This is my life dad. I’m choosing to make a change that’s going to fulfill me personally,” you said sternly in a voice just a tad louder than a whisper. “And yes, it’s a big change and yes, it’s scary. But. But.” Picking up your glass of wine, you took a large gulp and set it back on the table. “This is what I need to do. If I’m going to fail, I will fail. But what if this turns out to be the best thing for me? I want you in my life to celebrate my successes, but I also need you if life chooses to spit me out.” Your dad leaned back in his chair, a tired expression on his face. “Can you just try to be here for me if I need you?”

“Of course, Y/N. I’m always going to be here. But I worry. What if you’re making a mistake?”

“Then it’s something I’ll learn from and I’ll just try again.”

**

The week of New Year’s you stayed with Chris. His home was now completely remodeled, so that was one less stressful thing in his life. It was gorgeous when it was half under construction, now it was beautiful enough to be featured in a magazine on home design. It wasn’t a mansion by any means, it was just a very nice, large, upper class, suburban home. Well, a suburban home with a state-of-the-art alarm system. The house was luxurious without being pretentious and you found it strange to feel so comfortable there.

Chris was flying out to Atlanta and then to Costa Rica for filming the day after you flew back home to Orlando. It was a stressful time for him but he made sure to tell you every night that just you being there was helping. Chris was also incredibly clingy the whole trip. You chalked it up to him wanting to spend as much time with you as possible and also the anxiety of starting up a new project. Especially one that would take him away from home for a couple of months.

Every day the two of you cuddled on the couch and spent nights tangled in the sheets. Chris had only been able to visit once in November, so the two of you were making up for lost time. It was your first Christmas together as a couple and you weren’t together for it. Both of you had Facetimed for hours after both your family parties had ended. It wasn’t quite the same, but falling asleep with your phone held close to your face was the next best thing.

“Celebrating the new year together is going to be way more magical than Christmas. Christmas is old news sweetheart,” he said the night before New Year’s Eve. Your lips so close together that you couldn’t help but lean forward bridging the gap in a soft kiss. “This year brought me you. Next year can only get better.”

**

Apartment hunting was not going well. Like, not at all. Any place that Lisa considered to be decent enough to stay in was well over your price range. Not just an extra hundred or two a month over your budget, but close to one thousand dollars over the monthly amount you wanted to spend. Lisa told you she would keep an eye out for listings and send them to you as she found them. This move was looking to be more difficult than you thought it would be. You  hadn’t lived with a roommate since college, but if you wanted to live anywhere near Chris, a roommate is something you would have to get used to.

**

New Year’s Eve was probably the most fun you’ve had in a long time. Granted, you didn’t remember the whole night, but the majority of it was worth the headache in the morning.

Chris, Scott, Zach, Shanna, Carly and you had spent dinner at Lisa’s and played games with the kids until they went to bed after celebrating the New Year at eight that night. There was sparkling cider, confetti, and kisses from all the kids to bring in 2021. Chris had arranged a car to pick the two of you along with Zach and Scott up to take you to their friend Benji’s house for the rest of the evening. You weren’t entirely sure if that was really his name or if it was a nickname he picked up at some point. Regardless, Benji’s house was packed to the brim with people. Chris threw so many names at you as he moved his way through the house that you just started smiling and nodding. Hopefully you’d meet his closer friends in a much smaller and quieter setting in the future.

To say you were feeling quite shy was an understatement. Scott had talked you into buying a dress that was shorter than you felt comfortable with. Your butt was completely covered, but you usually didn’t show as much thigh as you were currently sporting. The gold number was long sleeved with a high neck that provided some warmth, but the back was cut low which added to the “sexy New Year’s vibe” as Scott called it. Scott dressed in a black suit and gold tie which was why he was adamant you buy the dress when you saw it in a shop window earlier in the week. Chris was another story. He didn’t want to dress up, opting to wear jeans and sweater that he later removed when he became too hot, leaving him in a plain black t-shirt. This is why Scott was your date for the night. Technically Scott and Zach were your dates for the night. More so Scott as the two of you coordinated. Chris had fun making a game of it by pulling you away from Scott several times over the night to kiss you in “secret” as he didn’t want your “date” to find out. It was cute and if you were being honest, kind of hot.

You didn’t want to get drunk. Wanting to remember the night was important to you not only because it was your first New Year’s with Chris, but because there were too many of his friends at this party. Giving off the impression of Chris’ drunk girlfriend wasn’t what you were aiming for, so you kept the drinking light. A couple of beers and you cut yourself off. You grabbed a plastic cup and dumped a bottle of water into. It was a trick you used to do in college when you didn’t want to get pestered about not drinking.

“Y/N! Sassy!” Scott called from the across the room.

“My date needs me,” you teased Chris.

His smirk said it all. You turned away from him and he promptly squeezed your ass. You chased his hand away with yours but laughed at his advances.

“Grumpy, what can I do for you?” you asked.

“This my dear, is Nicolette. Nicolette, this is Y/N,” he said, throwing an arm over your shoulder and bringing you closer.

You stuck your free hand out for her to shake. “Nice to meet you.”

“You as well,” she replied.

“So, Nicolette here needs a roommate,” Scott spoke, wiggling his eyebrows. “And since I know both of you, I know the two of you would get along.”

Taken aback by the sudden suggestion, you were sure your face looked somewhat shocked. You trusted Scott and you knew he wouldn’t set you up with a crazy person.

Nicolette laughed. “It’s true. I have a room available after my last roommate got married and ditched me. It’s a two-bedroom house with two bathrooms. I’m barely home, so it’s really kind of a house-sitting slash roommate situation.”

Now she had your interest.

“She’s a stage actress,” Scott said dramatically which causes Nicolette to roll her eyes. “She does a lot of traveling shows.”

“If you have time tomorrow, you can stop by and check it out,” she offered.

“Yeah. That would actually be great,” you replied.

The two of you exchanged numbers and Scott pulled you away shortly after, bringing you back to your boyfriend. “I got you girl!”

**

At midnight, Chris held you close with his chest pressed against your back and arms around your front. Benji stood on top of his pool table, large oversized wall clock in his hand calling out the last few seconds of 2020. Just as he shouted happy new year, Chris spun you around and kissed you, deep and slow. It went on for quite awhile as Scott eventually had the pull both of you apart.

The night was a blur from that moment on. You got dragged into a game of beer pong which later turned into four games of beer pong despite your objections of not being a great player. Scott and Chris passed you back and forth as their partner. The end result was always the same, you having to drink several of the cups with floating Ping-Pong balls inside.

The car service is called by someone, you’re just not quite sure who. All you remember is being pushed into the car and then out of it. Chris and you make it inside but don’t get further than his couch where you promptly push him onto it and straddle his thighs. The 2021 version of you is apparently very horny as you take control of the early morning hours of January first. The button of his jeans is popped open with the zipper quickly pulled down while your gold dress is pushed up over your ass. He’s all consuming and very eager for you to take control.

**

Chris kisses you like it’s the last time from the short-term parking ramp a couple of days later. Tears flow easily from your eyes as you say your goodbyes. He leaves for Atlanta tomorrow for stage shoots then on to Costa Rica. There are no planned visits between you as per his manager and assistant, there just isn’t time. He’s not set to be back state side until March. It’ll be a long three months that just happens to coincide with big changes for you.

Chris wipes your tears away with one hand while the other cradles your faces.

“Don’t cry sweetheart,” he murmurs, bringing his lips to yours in a short soft kiss.

“Why? Cause it makes your cry?” you asked, nose already stuffy from your tears.

He chuckles and blinks away his tears.

“No,” he said softly, licking his lips. “Cause I love you.”

Chris loves you. Chris loves you. You’ve felt it. You’ve been saying it in your head since Thanksgiving, but haven’t been able to say the words out loud. With your gloved hands, you pull his face to yours and kiss him. Pulling back, you rip off your gloves and drop them to the cold cement ground before grabbing his cheeks once more. The kiss is hungry and needy. You’re both out of breath when you part.

“I love you too. God, do I love you.”

Chris smiled softly, giving your nose a kiss. “I’m going to call you every day.”

“Babe…” you sigh out. “We both know that may not happen. You’re going to have days where your exhausted or have late shoots. Just-Just call me when you can. It’s going to be hard and it’s probably going to kill me, but when you’re back, we’ll be in the same state,” you smiled. “We’re only like forty minutes away from each other rather than a three hour plane ride.”

“We’ll make it work. I love you so much,” he said, kissing you again. “Call me when you land.”

You nodded, kissed him once more then walked to the terminal.

**

Carly was calling you for the second time that day. Her first message was asking about getting together for lunch. You weren’t trying to avoid her, but you had been starring at the same blank page for three hours. The deadline for your story on a protest that took place over college campuses across the US this morning needed to be submitted within the next two hours. Your head wasn’t in the game, so despite Carly calling twice, and Scott once, you were tempted to put your phone on silent. Chris had been MIA for two days now. He had kept to his promise of calling you daily over the last three months, even if it were just ten minutes to check in. You were trying to not let it bother you, but you’d be lying if you said you didn’t miss his voice. Production was delayed by two weeks keeping him in Costa Rica longer than expected. You’d been in Boston since the end of January and it was now the first week of April.

You shot Carly a text telling her that you were busy with work.

Y/N: Lunch tomorrow?

Carly: Of course. Good luck!

Nicolette was on the road working on a production of Aladdin, so you had the house to yourself. They were set to perform in Boston in May and she had promised you tickets. A perk of knowing one of the stars of the show. She was rarely home so it really was like living on your own with someone else’s furniture. You had donated or sold everything except for your bedroom set since you didn’t want to pay for storage and you weren’t entirely sure how long you’d be living with Nicolette. When you eventually moved out on your own, you’d have to start new, but that wasn’t anything to worry about now.

An hour later you were almost done with the article after turning on your “get shit done” playlist as you so perfectly named it. After proofreading it for the third time and two key strokes away from submitting it to your editor, there was a knock on your door. Despite living in the city for more than two months, you didn’t know anyone outside of the Evans family plus a few friends you’ve met through Scott and Shanna, but they generally didn’t show up unannounced. You chose to ignore it, assuming it was someone selling something or another for the scouts or a representative from a church wanting to spread the word of God. But the knocking wouldn’t stop. It was persistent and loud. You almost dove under your desk to hide, despite the shades in your room being drawn. After what felt like five straight minutes of knocking, you left the safe comforts of your room and walked to the front door. The sooner you answered, the sooner they would go away and you could take that nap after submitting the article.

Lifting a corner of the curtain on the living room curtain as inconspicuously as possible to see who it was, you audibly squealed and ran to the door. Throwing it open you screamed again much to Chris’ amusement.

“What the fuck are you doing here?!”

“Hello to you too sweetheart,” he chuckled, throwing his arms around you and pulling you close. Neither of you are saying anything, just enjoying holding each other. You snuggle your nose in the crock of his neck, breathing in everything that is Chris. One hand traveled up the back of his neck to his hair. The strands are longer and you can’t wait to play with them later.

“Missed you,” you murmur into his neck.

“Missed you so much, Y/N,” he replied, kissing your temple. “Can I come in?” he said with a soft smile.

“Oh my gosh, of course,” you can’t help but giggle out.

The next fifty minutes are spent christening your bed more than once, even though the two of you have had sex on your bed before. To Chris’ point, this is the first time he’s “banged” you on your bed in Massachusetts. His words, not yours.

With your face pressed against his chest, your fingers draw shapes through the hairs on his stomach. “I like the longer hair. It’s kind of sexy in a nineteen eighties kind of way.” Chris hums. “Maybe you should keep it.” You lift your head up to catch his expression. He’s smirking but shakes his head. “I’m serious. It’s kind of like how you had it in Red Sea Diving Resort. The ladies really dig it.”

His hand that was rubbing your back starts to dig into your sides until you can barely breathe as you’re laughing so hard. “The only” *tickle “lady” tickle* “that I’m” *tickle “trying to” tickle* “impress” tickle* “is you!”

“Mercy! Mercy! Mercy!” you shout until he finally ends his attack.

Chris pulls you back close and kisses your lips. “I never want to go that long without seeing you again.”

“I agree. I’ll live in your rental car on location if I have to.” He kisses your temple in reply. “M’happy you’re here, but I wasn’t expecting you for another week.”

“We pushed through. Long hours to finish up, but it was worth it. I love you so much sweetheart.”

You sit up until your seated on your bottom. Raking your fingers through his hair, you look him in his eyes. “I love you too. I’m so happy you’re home and I can’t believe we are living in the same state.”

“Same city practically.”

You nod in agreement, pushing a strand that has fallen over his forehead back. “I’m also glad Nicolette’s out of town.” Chris chuckles and closes his eyes. “You tired baby?”

“Yeah, had an early flight and then a long layover. Mind if I nap?”

“Course not. I’ve actually…Oh shit! I have an article I haven’t sent in yet!” You jump out of the bed, looking for something to throw on. You pick up Chris’ undershirt and slip it over your head. You hop back in the bed and give him a kiss before returning to your desk a few feet away and hit send. “I forgot to hit send before I answered the door.” You swivel in the chair to face him, point your finger at him. “You sir, are a distraction.”

“A damn good one,” he said so casually. Chris pats the empty spot on the bed. “Come nap with me.”

“Can’t refuse you.”

**

Spring turns into summer in no time at all. Chris spends more time in Boston than he does in Los Angeles. He told you that from the beginning, but with how much he works, you didn’t expect him to be home as much as he has been. When he is gone, it’s only for a few days. Despite having a roommate that is never home, most of your nights are spent at Chris’ places.

“Dodger misses you. He likes when you sleep in bed with us.”

“Oh, so it’s Dodger that misses me. Not you Mr. Evans?”

“Nope. It’s all Dodger. I just can’t take the whining. Promised I’d call you.”

“You’re such a brat,” you groan.

“You love me. Plus, my bed is bigger. It’s too much of a squeeze if I bring Dodger to yours. Cah’mon,” he groaned. “You know you want to.”

“Fine. Fine. I’m only coming over for Dodger though.”

When you arrive at Chris’ place and let yourself in because he insisted you have a key, you see the lights are dimmed and candles are lit throughout the living room.

“Babe?” you called out. Passing through the living room and into the kitchen. You see a couple of pans on the stove simmering away, but no Chris. You walk up the stairs towards the bedroom, pushing open the door. “Babe?” you called out again.

Chris is standing in front of the bed while Dodger lays on it. More lit candles are scattered on the dresser and night stands.

“Hi Beautiful,” he said, stepping forward and grasping your hands.

“What’s all this?” you asked.

“Happy anniversary.”

“It’s our anniversary?” you asked, head titled to the side.

“To me it is.” He took a big breath and smiled. “Now, I know we had a rough start, but on this day, one year ago, I knew I was head over heels for you. Technically, I’d say our anniversary was back in May. That’s when we started talking a lot more and of course that’s the month we first kissed. But it was July when I knew I could never go back to being just friends. It was July when I knew that I needed to hear your voice every day. It was on this day in July that I knew we were going to be something special.” Your breath was stolen from your lungs as cliché as that sounds. “I love you baby.”

Fat tears rolled down your cheeks, a few landing on your lips as you couldn’t contain the sappy grin on your face. You grabbed his face with both hands, smooshing his cheeks. “I love you, you crazy, wonderful man. Happy anniversary.”

**

Compromises were made as Chris dragged you to Red Sox games in the early fall and then to Patriot games in the early winter. You were forever a Twins and Vikings fan, even though they broke your heart every year. You played nice, accepting the jerseys he gifted you for both teams. The two of you flew to Minnesota to meet your family in late September. Heath and Chris attended a Twins game together as a truce in the new found friendship they were working on. They weren’t best friends, but you hoped they would grow closer. When the Vikings played on Sundays, Chris watched with you so long as it didn’t cut into his Pats’ games, but he refused to wear a Vikings jersey. The funny thing was, you rarely watched football or baseball, but found yourself getting really into it the more you played along with the non-existent rivalry.  

In October you flew to Florida to cover Magic Kingdom’s fiftieth anniversary. Chris was off on a press tour on the other side of the country. You extended your stay since Chris wouldn’t be back for another week, opting to stay with Jana and Brooks rather than a hotel. The biggest surprise was Jana’s small baby bump.

“I’m going to be Auntie Y/N?” you asked, tears in your eyes.

“You bet your ass you are,” she said, tears in her eyes as well. “Way to make a pregnant woman cry.”

You pulled her into a hug. “Shush. And you should clean up that mouth before the baby gets here,” you snorted.

**

By the time you got back to Massachusetts, you had a week and a half reprieve before you were flying back into Orlando with the majority of the Evans crew for their annual Disney vacation. Lisa had invited you herself before Chris even got around to asking you. He later said he wasn’t going to ask because you had no choice in the matter.

“I can’t believe I’m going back as an actual tourist,” you whined to him on the plane.

“You were just there!”

“That was for work. Doesn’t count. I don’t even have my annual pass anymore. What is this bizarro world?”

“So dramatic. Should really be an actress,” he said, nudging you with his elbow.

The trip was great despite the long days in the park. It was a treat to have a Disney Cast Member leading your group around for most of the trip. It sure cut back on the time you usually stood in line.

The downside of the trip were the pictures that were posted online of you and Chris. The two of you did your best not to touch when out in public places, but you both found that hard. Chris would often place his hand on your back leading you from one spot to another. Even though you often sat with Scott or Carly on several of the rides, the ones where you sat with Chris were the ones that were posted. It didn’t take fans long to recognize that you were the same girl pictured with him two years before. Taking Chris’ advise, you didn’t read the comments online and avoided Twitter like the plague. Chris said you both needed to go on like you had been. If you both kept your relationship private, people would eventually lose interest. And they did for the most part.

**

Christmas was spent in Boston with the Evans family. You bargained with your mother for the week after Christmas and she agreed much to your surprise.

Despite Lisa’s insistence that you and Chris spend the night at her house Christmas Eve, Chris wasn’t having it. He wanted to go home after gift opening and spend it with just the two of you.

You barely made it in the door before Chris was wrapping you in his arms.

“What’s gotten into you?” you asked with a laugh.

He kissed your cheek. His warm breath tickled your nose, causing you to hunch, lowering your head and burying it in his chest.

“Move in with me.”

Huh?

He said is so casually as if he’s asking if you want a glass of water.

You pull your face away from his body and hold him at arm’s length. “You wanna say that again?”

“Move in with me. I want you to live here. I can’t handle Dodger askin’ every day.”

“Oh! So, it’s Dodger,” you said, poking his chest. Upon hearing his name, Dodger got up from the couch and came to stand next to you, his butt bumping against your leg. “I’m sorry Bubba, but I can’t move in. It seems that only one of the Evans boys that live here want me to move in. I need a unanimous vote.”

“Cah’mon. Don’t break his heart like that. He said you give the best belly rubs and frankly I can’t compete,” Chris said crossing his arms over his chest.

“I don’t know,” you said, finger tapping against your chin in thought.

“Fine…” Chris dramatically sighed out, rolling his eyes. “You have my vote too. Move in with us.”

You bend down to give Dodger a belly rub, avoiding Chris’ eyes. “Nah.”

“What?!” Chris shouts causing Dodger to get back on his feet and you to fall on your ass. You erupt in giggles. Dodger walks circles around you, tail wagging excitedly.

“You turnin’ me down? Is that’s what’s happenin’ sweetheart?” He drops to his knees in front of you, resting on his hunches. The laughs die out on your breath and you slowly start to breathe normally again.

“Ask me again,” you whispered.

One hand rested on his thigh, while the other runs through your hair taming the pieces that have fallen in your eyes. “Will you move in with me?”

You nod your head slowly. “Yes,” you answer simply enough.

“Yes?” he asked, big smile slowly forming on his face.

“Yes,” you repeat. You let out a big huff of air. “Now, take me to our bedroom.”

**

Before you’re even fully awake, your phone is buzzing like crazy Christmas morning. Reaching blindly to the night stand since Chris has extreme blackout curtains on the windows, you couldn’t see your phone if you tried. Technically, they were your curtains now.

Scott: It’s already been 9 hours and you haven’t called me about you livin’ in sin with my brother

Scott: Get dressed and come to breakfast at Ma’s

Scott: That’s an order

Chris had one arm resting over his eyes with the blanket pushed down to his waist. You turned to face him, kissing his bare chest until he starts to stir.

“How does Scott know I’m moving in?” you asked with a coyness in your voice.

Chris chuckles. His mouth full of sleep and his arm still resting over his eyes. “I sorta texted him when you were changing for bed.”

“You’re a brat. He texted me at seven this morning bitching that I didn’t tell him yet.”

“Sorry,” Chris said, removing his arm from his head and turning to his side to look at you.

“No, you’re not,” you scoffed.

He chuckled again, pulling you into his chest. “No, I’m not.

**

“Hey babe,” you shouted through the open door.

One of the guest bedrooms was turned into your office a month ago and you were still decorating slowly but surely. Chris wasn’t allowing you to pay rent which ensued into a big argument. He ultimately caved some with you paying for the lawn care as well as Dodger’s food. It was still no where near the price of rent you were paying at Nicolette’s, but you would take what you could get for now. You often did all the grocery shopping when Chris wasn’t home so he couldn’t object to you paying. With extra funds in hand, what wasn’t going into the bank you splurged on nice office furniture and some vintage Minnesota Twins pennants to hang on the wall.

“Yes, my love?” Chris said, standing in the doorway.

“Can you help me hang these?” You lifted two of the pennants, one in each hand and gave him a cheesy smile. “Please.”

“You’re killing me babe. You know how bad this makes me look? The Twins?” he scoffed.

“It’s my office. We can keep the door closed when we have company. You’ll live.”

He gave you a wet kiss on your forehead, grabbing one of the pennants from your hand. With your hand free, you wiped at your forehead and stuck your tongue out at him.

**

Scott had kept you busy all day with what he dubbed “Best Friend’s Day”.

It started with brunch, then on to shopping where you spent entirely too much on wool peacoat. You both got a hot stone massage followed by hot donuts from a shop you frequented before he dropped you back at your place.

“Tell Chris he owes me,” Scott said just as you shut the passenger door.

“He owes you?” you questioned. But it fell on deaf ears as Scott waved and drove away. “Why are my friends so weird?”

Unlocking the door, you stepped inside calling out to Chris.

“In here babe!” he shouted back.

Making your way to the office where you were certain you heard his voice, you saw that the door was partially closed.

That’s weird.

“Are you in my office?” you questioned just outside the door.

“Yes, now get your butt in here.”

Pushing the door open, you see Chris sitting on one of the two brown leather club chairs you had situated on the other side of your desk. On the wall above his head is a huge Red Sox logo that has to be at least three feet across. On the wall next to the window is a framed signed Tom Brady jersey.

“Welcome home sweetheart. I added some more décor to your office. Do you like it?” He’s got a huge grin on his face with his eyebrows raised.

“You are something else,” you said, shaking your head as you walk across the room taking a seat at your desk.

Chris gets up from the chair and strolls over to your desk taking a seat on it and facing you. “Something good?”

“Hmm. Not so sure about that babe. Is this what Scott owes you for? Was Best Friend’s Day a ploy to get me out of the house?”

He scratches the top of his head. “M’fraid I don’t know what you’re taklin’ about.”

“I’m sure you don’t.” You sit up slightly and grab on to the neck hole of his t-shirt, pulling him to you. “You’re lucky I like you.”

He kisses your lips and pulls back to look you in the eyes, despite your hand still firmly holding his shirt.

“I love you,” he said softly. He kissed your nose then each of your cheeks.

“I know,” you replied, letting go of his shirt and opening up your laptop.

“Did you-did you just Han Solo me?” he chuckled.

You looked up from the screen, a small smile playing on your lips. “You bet your sweet ass I did.”

“You’re gonna get it. You are so gonna get it,” he threatened. You shut the laptop and pushed back on your chair. “You better run!”

You were out of your seat as fast as you could, squeals of laughter spilling from your lips as Chris chased you through the first floor and up the stairs. “I love you!” you screamed between laughs. “I love you!”

“Damn right,” he said tackling you onto the bed you shared.

The End

**

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[bitterlikesweets]

Love Bites Ch 13

This is the thirteenth chapter of a modern/vampire AU ereri fanfic. You can also read it on Ao3. 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13

Next

There's sunlight trying to peek through Eren's curtains. A sliver of light that crosses the room and lands in a corner by the door. When was the last time Eren woke up to sunlight? When was the last time he went to sleep before dawn?

He slowly sits up in bed. His fingers are pale—not Levi pale, but pale for him—and stiff. The joints crack when they curl into fists. They ache. Eren's aching. And he's so, so cold.

Green eyes blink down at semi-pale hands for a long moment. His fists just curl and uncurl while Eren’s mind rewinds. He fell into his bed and practically passed out. Before that, he stumbled into his apartment, not even bothering to lock the door behind him. Further back, he remembers driving erratically through the streets and being surprised no cops pulled him over. And before even that, he was at Levi’s place and—

“Eren, I’m in love with you.”

Eren can’t breathe.

Levi—Levi said that to him. Levi said that to him and Eren ran.

No. No. Eren needs to go back and fix this right now. He-he can’t—he can’t let Levi keep thinking—

Can’t let Levi keep thinking… what? If Levi ran after Eren confessed, Eren would think the man didn’t love him back, didn’t feel anything close to it. And Eren… Eren…

What does he feel?

Something close to it, definitely. No, Eren would be certain of his feelings if it weren’t for this vampire bullshit. Because he knows what love feels like, and he feels like he knows it better every day he spends with Levi. But…

But he doesn’t know enough about vampires to know that this isn’t some trick his body is playing on him. Can blood cause attraction to the human it came from? Does his mind, his heart care for Levi, or is his body hooked on Levi’s taste? If vampire feelings can make his body feel like it’s made out of rocks, then why can’t it—

Wait.

Why does Eren feel like a corpse now, if he hasn’t in all the other months since he became a vampire? He thought Levi was rejecting him, and then it all happened at once. His thoughts spiraled, he started internally cursing his existence as an undead monster—

And then his body reacted.

Eren drops his head into his hands, trying to think back. The last time he nearly bit Levi, he was thinking about his feelings, about how much he cared about Levi. He was thinking about how he might be in love. Then, his fangs were at Levi’s neck.

What about the first time? What were they doing?

It was the first time they held each other, the first time they were that close. Eren was admiring Levi up close, and Levi was saying all these sweet things, and then he was leaning into Levi’s neck, trying to bite without thinking.

Eren squeezes his eyes shut.

It was never his body causing his mind to react. It wasn’t the vampire instincts bleeding into his thoughts. It was his feelings causing his body to react. It was the vampire reacting to human feelings inside him. When he wanted Levi, his body tried to mark Levi, to take him. When Eren felt disgusting, when he was acutely aware of his undead constitution, his body brought it into focus.

Eren hisses a sigh through his hands.

“I should’ve just fucking asked.”

Eren raises his head out of his hands, his eyes darting around the room for his phone. He needs to call or text or do something to clear things up. Levi is the last person that deserves to be left in the lurch like this. He needs to fix things, to tell Levi the truth.

He finds his phone on the floor by his bed, and he’s about to hurry and call before he notices he already has a couple of text messages from Levi.

...From about six hours ago.

Eren scrambles to unlock his phone, already preparing a series of apology response texts in his mind, because Levi is probably angry. There’s no way he isn’t angry—

‘Sorry. I overstepped last night. Forget I said anything.’

Eren’s stomach twists. No, no.

‘You seem to be doing alright with larger amounts of blood. We can go back to once a week like we originally planned.’

No, no, no, no please—

‘I’ll ask Erwin to train you to fight. He’s experienced. You’ll learn quickly.’

No, no! Fuck, fuck, fuck—

‘Sorry. Again. Never wanted to make you uncomfortable.’

Eren is out of his bed and halfway across the room. When the sliver of light peeking through his curtains burns his exposed skin, he simply throws on a hat and a jacket before marching out the door.

~ ~ ~

“Huh? Eren, what’re you doing here? Today’s not your day.”

Eren pauses halfway through the doorway to Kuchel’s Kitchen. Furlan and Isabel are both staring at him, wide-eyed. Eren opens his mouth but words abandon him. He came here impulsively. Furlan’s right, it’s not his day, even if Levi hadn’t just texted him to switch to once a week. After all, they just met up yesterday…

Wait.

“And anyway, it’s still bright out," Furlan continues. "Though I guess that’s why you’re dressed like it’s the middle of winter.”

Eren’s eyes flicker between Furlan and Isabel, who are still eyeing him as they drop off orders and pick up dirty plates. They’re not angry? They’re not angry.

Levi didn’t tell them. Did he tell anyone? Is he just stewing somewhere by himself in his misery?

Maybe he just wants to forget all about the incident yesterday, about his feelings, about Eren. Or maybe he just doesn’t want to think about it, at least for a day. In which case, Eren shouldn’t have come. He should’ve waited a day. But he really wants to fix things. But what if Levi doesn’t want to fix things? Fuck, he should’ve thought for a second that the man might have just wanted a moment to breathe—

Would Eren have wanted a moment to breathe or would he have wanted Levi to immediately come running? Fuck, but it’s not like it matters what Eren thinks because he’s not Levi; he doesn’t know what Levi would want—

“Here, Petra’s off today, but I’ll just call him for you anyway,” Isabel says.

Furlan nods at her and focuses on his work again. Eren’s eyes are glued to her, his mind still whirling as he attempts to process what Isabel said. Then she turns, her hands cupped around her mouth, and Eren knows she’s about to call Levi’s name, so he practically lunges at her, covering her mouth with his hands.

And now everyone in the restaurant is staring. The customers are looking up from their steaming dinners and Isabel is squirming, trying to escape his hold. Furlan's looking at him again with a skeptical eyebrow raised. Eren is just grateful that there’s no window or opening between the kitchen and the dining area.

“Sorry,” Eren says, and his voice sounds so loud in his ears. He throws a panicked look in the direction of the door to the kitchen, but nobody appears. “I just—We need to—Can I talk to you?”

She pries his hands away from her mouth, looking at him curiously.

“Okay,” she says slowly. “We can go to the break room—”

“No!” Eren exclaims and now he really is too loud. He glances worriedly over at the kitchen again. “Can we talk outside?”

“You’re acting super weird,” Isabel says, narrowing her green eyes at him, “but sure.”

Eren practically drags Isabel behind him and doesn’t take a full breath until they’re safely outside. He sinks to the floor into a low crouch, his long legs tucking against his chest, one hand dragging slowly across his face and the other hanging limply by his side, his fingertips brushing the sidewalk.

“Eren,” Isabel says, “are you okay?”

“I don’t know. No. I—ugh, fuck.”

He buries his face into his knees. Isabel crouches down in front of him, rocking slightly on the balls of her feet.

“Levi seems off today too,” Isabel says, and the words strike a needle through Eren’s chest. “What happened?”

He peeks over at Isabel over his knees.

“He didn’t tell you anything about yesterday?”

“Levi’s not exactly a talk-about-his-feelings sort of guy, so no.”

Eren squeezes his eyes shut and drops his head onto his knees again. Levi doesn’t talk about his feelings, even to his close friends, but he did yesterday for Eren. He risked something, and Eren ran away—

“Look,” Isabel says, poking the top of Eren’s head. “Why don’t you just tell me what happened? Did Levi do something?”

“No!” Eren exclaims, his head snapping up. “Levi, didn’t—It was me. I… I fucked it up. I fucked everything up.”

“Fucked it up, how?”

Eren’s lips press into a frown and he averts his gaze. Levi really didn’t tell them? Should he be the one saying it if Levi doesn’t want them to know?

Isabel sighs.

“I guess I’d better go ask him myself,” Isabel starts, getting to her feet, and Eren’s eyes grow wide.

“Wait, I’ll tell you, okay?!”

He really needs her advice on what to do before Levi finds out that he’s here.

Isabel grins and drops back into a crouch in front of Eren. Eren sighs, averting his gaze again.

“So, uh, yesterday… Levi kinda…” Eren clears his throat. “He confessed.”

“Confessed?”

“Yeah, you know... Romantically.”

When Isabel gasps, Eren looks over at her with a frown. She grabs him by the shoulders, looking up at him with her eyes shining.

“Levi did? Our Levi? Levi in the kitchen right now? Vampire hunter Levi?”

“What other Levi would I be talking about?” Eren asks.

“Oh my God,” Isabel says, releasing Eren’s shoulders to clasp her hands over her mouth. “And what’d you say?”

Eren flinches.

“See, that’s the thing. I… I didn’t say anything.”

“...Huh?”

Eren squeezes his eyes shut.

“I didn’t say anything. I ran. I ran away.”

Eren’s shoulders tense, and he braces for something, anything. She can yell at him or hit him. He definitely deserves it—

“Ohhh,” Isabel says. “Okay, that makes sense.”

Eren’s eyes pop open.

“I—what?”

“Oh, not the part about you running away,” Isabel says with a dismissive wave of her hand. “That was stupid. You’re literally stupid.”

Eren’s shoulders sag.

“I… Yeah, that’s fair.”

“But that does clear up a lot of stuff that happened today.”

“What do you mean?”

“Mm… Well, the local grouch was in a bit of a mood today. Plates may have been broken, customers yelled at…” Isabel lets out a sigh, rocking backwards on the balls of her feet until she nearly loses her balance. “I should’ve known it had something to do with you.”

Eren drops his head onto his knees again. He fucked things up yesterday, ruined Levi’s day today… And now he just showed up here without warning, and he still hasn’t gone in to apologize because he wanted to stop and get some advice first—

Eren blinks and glances over at Isabel, who’s just watching him.

“Hey,” he says. “You’re not… mad that I did that to Levi?”

“Mad?” she repeats. “Well, I guess I would be, if you weren’t already here to apologize.”

Isabel narrows her eyes at him.

“That is what you’re here for, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, of course! Actually, what I really wanted to ask you is—”

Isabel heaves a loud sigh over Eren’s words, and he stops, pressing his lips into a small frown.

“Man, it was great to see him like that again though. God, I would love to have the aura that Levi has. Just a look, and bam! People trembling at my feet. Reminds me of when I first met him.”

Eren raises his head a little more at that statement, and Isabel’s eyes are practically shining when he meets her gaze.

“You want to know, don’t you?” she whispers, wiggling red eyebrows at Eren. “It’s the story of a lifetime.”

Isabel jumps to her feet, and Eren leans back a little, thoroughly confused by her sudden change in subject. But when he sees her grin, her fingers held up in a little square in front of her eyes like a pretend camera, he finds it a bit hard to interrupt.

“It was ten years ago,” she says, pacing back and forth in front of Eren, her voice low, dramatic, as if she’s narrating a movie. “Little Isabel sits in the corner of the room, her vampire captors still asleep in their beds. Then bang! It’s Furlan, throwing the door open. And Big Bro Levi with a crossbow!”

She makes a gun with her fingers and pulls back an imaginary crossbow string. She's squinting with one eye closed, going “Pow! Pow!” every time she pretends to shoot. She aims a shot over Eren’s head, then behind herself, and even at the door to the restaurant. Eren shakes his head at her, but he’s smiling.

“The vampires are down!” she exclaims, throwing her hands in the air. “But to be safe, Furlan and Levi throw all the curtains open, and the sun makes the vampires start sizzling like a couple of fried eggs.”

Her cheeks puff out and her lips pucker as she tries to make the sizzling sound effects, and Eren laughs, relaxing a little. He drops his crouch lower so that he can sit on the floor, his focus completely on Isabel.

“And then Levi goes up to little Isabel and says…” She pauses with a hand over her chest, clears her throat, and when she speaks again, she’s lowered her pitch to a gravelly tone that immediately has Eren laughing again. “Fear not, small child, for I have arrived to save the day.”

As if inviting Eren into her little show, she bends down, reaching a hand down to him, and Eren is grinning, reaching out to grasp the hand of this pretend “Big Bro Levi,” and—

“What kind of fucking nonsense are you spreading now?”

The illusion shatters and Eren flinches, looking up at Levi. He’s standing in front of the door with his arms crossed over his chest, scowling. For a moment, gray eyes flicker down to Eren, and he opens his mouth to speak. As soon as Eren does, Levi’s gaze shifts to Isabel, and Eren’s mouth falls shut again.

“I was just telling Eren about the day we first met, since you were taking too long,” Isabel says with a grin.

“First, that’s not how it went—”

“That’s how I remember it!”

“Second,” Levi says firmly, “you should be working instead of wasting your time here. I don’t pay you to act like a child.”

“Come on, you should know how I am by now.” Isabel winks at Levi. “When I see something vulnerable hurting, I’ve gotta save it, you know?”

Levi just scoffs.

“And which one of us is that vulnerable thing?”

“Hmm, I wonder…” Isabel walks around Levi to go through the door into the restaurant.

Just before she enters, she looks over at Eren one last time and mouths, good luck. Then the door closes behind her, and it’s just Levi, Eren, and their silence.

Eren clears his throat, and it’s loud. Too loud. Everything feels too loud. His breathing, his clothes rustling as he gets to his feet and stands beside Levi. The sounds of his shoe scuffing the concrete as he fidgets. It’s all so loud.

And Levi is so, so quiet.

“Um—”

“The sun just set.”

Eren blinks.

“What?”

“The sun just set,” Levi says again. “You can take all that off.”

Eren looks up at the darkening sky and then down at himself. He nods in thanks at Levi—not that Levi can see, he’s still not looking at Eren—and peels off all his extra layers. Gloves come off first, then the bucket hat. Then the face mask. The jacket goes next. He balls up all the smaller items and then wraps them in the jacket before tucking the whole bundle under his arm.

Levi’s like a statue. He hasn’t moved.

Eren clears his throat again.

“Uh, Levi?”

Levi’s gaze sliding over to him is the only response he gets.

“Look, I, um… I really… I mean, I’m really, really sorry about… about yesterday.”

Eren’s tongue is large and clumsy in his mouth. He’s struggling to get the words around it. His throat feels tight.

“...You’re sorry,” Levi says after a moment.

“Y-yeah. I—especially because I ran—no, um, especially because of how I feel. Because, uh, I—”

Eren clears his throat again. He tugs at the collar of his shirt. It’s hot. He should’ve practiced or something beforehand. This is… He doesn’t know how he wanted this to go down, but he’s certainly not happy that it’s happening like this.

Levi’s looking away again.

Eren’s hands clench into fists at his sides.

“Levi, the truth is—”

“Eren.”

Eren stops. Levi’s looking even farther away from him now.

“Don’t say it just because I did.” Levi’s voice is cold, harsh. “I don’t need that kind of pity.”

“What? No, Levi, that’s not—”

“I don’t know why you came today,” Levi says, “but I’ve got work to do.”

Eren’s just staring as Levi turns towards the door again. He’s just watching because saying it is so much harder than he expected it to be and even if he does manage it he doesn’t know how he’ll get Levi to believe him, and—no, Levi, please don’t open the door, don’t go!

“The truth is that I don’t know if I love you!” Eren exclaims, and Levi pauses, his hand still on the door handle.

Eren sucks in a shaky breath.

“The truth is that I don’t know what I feel about you. Because I feel a lot of things, all kinds of things, all at once.”

Levi is slowly turning back to face him. Eren takes a step closer.

“The second we met, I felt something when I looked at you. And honestly, my dumb ass was pretty sure it was fear.”

“Eren—”

“And I don’t know when I stopped being nervous around you, but I do know that I look for you when I’m nervous now. I reach for you, I try to grab hold of you. I’m not scared anymore, Levi. Being near you gets rid of my fear. I mean, yeah, sometimes I get anxious, but it’s only because I’m so desperate to keep you with me. I don’t want to mess anything up—”

“Eren—”

“And you—you’re just—you’re there for me, and you say all these things that drive me crazy, and it’s like I’m always, always thinking of you even when I shouldn’t be. I want to impress you, I want you to think of me just as much as I think of you, and fuck, I haven’t even talked about how hot you are yet.”

“Eren, seriously—”

“What I’m trying to say is that if all these things I’m feeling about you are love, then I love you, Levi.”

Eren sucks in air, almost certain that he expended everything in his lungs. Then he looks over at Levi again, who’s just staring at him, gray eyes widened.

“Sorry,” Eren says, “you were going to say something?”

Levi’s mouth falls open and then snaps shut. Then, he just marches straight over to Eren, and for a second, Eren thinks that Levi’s going to beat him up or shove him or something—

Levi grabs Eren by the collar of his shirt and yanks him down.

“You drive me fucking insane,” Levi snaps.

“Wha—after all I said, that’s what you decide to—”

“Eren, shut the fuck up.” Levi tugs him lower, closer. Their noses are brushing. “And if this isn’t what you want then fucking bite me.”

“Wha—”

Eren’s complaints die in his throat when pale lips meet his.

[malumsmermaid]

I’d Do Anything Chap 3.5

Someone brought this post up into my notes again recently and I decided to flesh it out a bit.

Part of my poly/CEO! Cashton universe, it takes place somewhere inbetween chapters 3 and 5.

Word Count: 1.9k

Rating: M (18+ only)

Warnings: female receiving oral, unprotected sex (est. relationship), bi Calum? bi Calum.

Calum and Lily didn’t have too much to do at work that day, opting instead to stay at Calum’s house and get what little work they had done first thing in the morning so that they could spend the rest of the beautiful day together. Lily ended up finishing her work first, Calum having to wait for someone to call him still, so he handed her his card and a grocery list, “Get something for yourself too, sweetheart.” He added, smiling as his girlfriend’s cheeks turned pink.

Lily took his card, pausing for a kiss before she walked out to her car, driving over to Target. She wove up and down the aisles, getting detergent, ingredients for dinner, and some snacks before meandering over to the clothing. It was nearing March and they had had bathing suits out for a month now. She had a feeling that, with the mild Southern California winter, they would probably spend the afternoon sitting out by Calum’s pool, so she slowly began flicking through the racks, after glancing at some of the shirts and bags first. She considered a green bikini for a moment, before an olive one-piece caught her eye. There was a decorative bow between the cups, and a cut out below, finding one in her size and carrying it back to the fitting room, falling even more in love once it was on her. She quickly put her clothes back on and checked out, driving back to Calum’s.

She quickly put up all the groceries, glancing out the patio doors to see Calum leaning back on the cushioned bench, tank top discarded next to him. She ran her eyes over him for a moment, smiling to herself before making her way to the bedroom, setting the book she’d also bought on a pillow before stepping over by the window, a wicked smile spreading over her face. She stood directly in his line of sight, slowly stripping off her clothes, bending over slightly more than she really had to as she stepped into her new swimsuit, slowly pulling it up her body and pulling the straps over her shoulders before reaching behind her and clipping it in place. She ran her hand through her copper hair, tossing it back over her shoulders before slowly swaying away from the bedroom window, grabbing two glasses of water before going to join Calum on the deck.

When she set the water down she realized that Calum was on the phone, her hands immediately flying up to cover her mouth, eyes wide as she looked at her boyfriend. He just nodded at her, biting back a smirk as he pointed over towards the other bench across from him. She sat down across from him, looking down at her lap as he cheeks flamed. She wouldn’t have changed into her swimsuit the way that she had if she had noticed that his phone was pressed to his ear.

She could hear Calum humming in response to whatever the other person on the line was saying, finally chancing a glance up at him, swallowing back a gasp at the sight of his hand disappearing under his black swim trunks. He gave her a lazy smile, eyebrows raising slightly behind his sunglasses. She couldn’t tear her gaze away from him now, tongue poking out to wet her lips as she pressed her thighs together. Calum’s own tongue poked out as he watched her squirm slightly in her seat as she realized what he was doing. His fingers were tapping impatiently against the back of his phone, eyes squeezing shut as he continued to listen. Finally, he found an opening to cut in, “Everything sounds great, Luke. Keep doing what you’re doing and send me an update next week…..Yeah, thanks man, see you in a couple months for the charity thing, bye.”

He had been fighting to keep his tone even, and not overly rushing to end the call. He let out a sigh of relief as he set his phone on the table, before motioning for Lily to join him on his side. She stepped over the table, holding her arms out for balance as she stood in the middle of the coffee table before she stepped down, Calum’s arms reaching out to catch her if she fell. She settled into the cushions of the bench, tucking herself against Calum as he leaned over, his head resting in the crook of her neck. “You looked so cute the second you realized I was on the phone, sweetheart.” He started, voice low as he began trailing kisses up her neck. “But that show you put on for me...so good love, you were all confident and everything. Wish I could’ve seen you get the idea, your pretty face lights up whenever you think of something to do to me like that.”

She sighed, tilting her head slightly to give her boyfriend better access as he slowly continued to work his way to her jaw. “Thank you so much for getting my groceries, and for bringing lunch out here to me.” Lily smiled, eyes fluttering as Calum’s kisses grew harsher, saying “Mm, didn’t bring lunch just wat-ooh.” She paused as she looked down at Calum, her boyfriend having pulled away, a teasing smirk and raised eyebrows causing a shiver to pass through her body.

He laughed softly as he pushed her to lean back against the cushions, shifting until he was kneeling on the deck. He grabbed her leg, pulling her closer as he licked his lips. His sunglasses had slipped down his nose and Lily was able to see his dark eyes glittering with excitement as he slowly began pressing kisses up the inside of her thigh, teeth gently nibbling the sensitive skin as he left his mark there.

She finally let out a soft whine as his fingers grazed over her core on top of her swimsuit, a smile playing over his features. He looked up at her as he pulled the olive fabric to the side, humming softly, “Always sound so pretty love, imagine if one of my neighbors hear us...think they’ll be like that guy in that forensic files episode you put on last night? Take a peek over the fence? Good thing they’ll get what he wanted to see and not murder, yeah?”

Lily let out a soft giggle at his statement and Calum grinned, squeezing her leg before ducking his head down, tongue running the length of her slit. She gasped, spreading her legs further for him as he attached his lips to her clit, sucking harshly while his finger circled her entrance. He quickly settled in, finding his pattern as he lazily went down on her, long languid strokes of his tongue combined with the slow thrusts of his fingers had the familiar warmth spreading through her body.

Calum grinned as he heard her moans mixing with whines and becoming more and more desperate. He pulled back slightly, smiling as he went back to gently brushing his lips along her thighs, slowly curling his fingers inside of her.

“Cal,” Lily whined, her hands reaching for his head, grasping at his dark hair and trying to pull him back.

Calum smiled, leaning his head against her thigh, “Yes doll?” He teased, making a show of slowly licking his lips.

Lily just let out an exasperated whine, head bouncing off of the bench’s cushion as she laid back. Calum smiled to himself, pulling his fingers out and humming as he cleaned them off, a low groan vibrating through his chest, making sure there was a loud pop when he slipped them from between his lips, a soft whine leaving Lily at the noise before he attached his lips to her center once more. Her body jolted in response to the sensations shooting through her, legs wrapping tightly around his head. Calum groaned, his own hips thrusting forward desperately as both his hands gripped Lily’s hips. He squeezed his eyes shut, quickly working her back to her high, finally working her over the edge and through, smiling as he cleaned her up.

He let out a satisfied little moan as he pulled back from her, pulling his body back up onto the bench, holding himself over her as he leaned in for a heavy kiss. He moaned as his hips pressed into hers, swallowing the gasp that she let out. Desperate for friction, he continued moving his hips, hard cock brushing against her thighs through his swim trunks, eyelids fluttering as the feeling overtook him.

“Wish Ash would make up his mind a little faster,” Calum stated, forcing himself to hold still, breathing heavily as he pulled away from Lily slightly. “He definitely could’ve helped me out a minute ago. Want you to see how pretty he looks in the afterglow, wanna have both of you in my bed looking like that, both so pretty, all dewy and glowing, fully spent and satisfied.”

Calum let out a low groan, his eyes fluttering closed at the image he’d just conjured in his mind. Lily smirked, reaching up to cup his cheek, “Want me to jerk you off while you think about your past and possible future escapades involving Ashton again?”

He hummed, eyes slowly opening, “Hmm? Oh, no, not right now, maybe later, think for now I just wanna love on you.”

Lily laughed softly as he leaned into her touch before bending down to peck her lips, hands pulling away from her to push his swim trunks down just enough to free his cock, slowly sinking into her. His body sagged against hers, a relieved moan falling from his lips as he finally felt her around him. Lily just smiled, combing her fingers through his curls while he composed himself.

After a minute he pushed himself up, pulling one of her legs higher on his waist as he slowly pulled out, chewing his lip as he stared down at her, eyes fluttering as he sunk back in. He was only able to keep up the slow pace for so long, his attempts at stalling to try and build stamina seemed to have failed, based on the amount of his own arousal that he’d been able to feel on his length when he’d finally released it from its confines. Lily egged him on, pushing back to meet his thrusts, so he picked up his pace, chasing after his own high as he pushed one of the cups of Lily’s swimsuit to the side, mouthing sloppily at her breast while his thumb pressed to her clit, trying to help her along too. They both hastily came to their ends, Lily following after Calum as he spilled inside her, both collapsing into each other.

Calum stilled in her, staying in her as he caught his breath, finally pulling back enough to check his phone after a minute, fumbling for it while he continued holding his girlfriend close. He opened one text he had gotten, humming as he read it, “Ash wants to come by in about an hour for lunch, whaddya say we get cleaned up and swim for a bit before I fire up the grill?”

Lily nodded tiredly, leaning up to press a kiss to Calum’s cheek before he pulled out of her and helped her to her feet, the pair leaning into each other as they walked inside.

Tag List: @irwinkitten​ @dammitbands​ @wildflowergrae​ @calpops​ @empathycth​ @5sosalh​

[residentanchor]

A Stone’s Throw Away

Act 1, Chapter 1

<<Prologue

Once upon a time… Magic existed in harmony amongst the people of a peaceful kingdom. Until one day, there was an evil sorcerer that attacked the kingdom with his magic, wishing to dethrone the king and take the crown for himself. He believed himself better than those without magic. With an evil army at his side, the sorcerer had almost succeeded, until a witch betrayed him and helped the king, locking the evil sorcerer away with her magic. To release the sorcerer, one with good intentions had to wish to break him free of his cage. Though, no one wanted to wish evil upon the land once more, leaving him trapped forever.

“Patty!” Patton jumped, startled at the sound of his little sister’s voice, and looked up from the book he had been reading from. “You’ve already read us this story!” She whined, huffing and kicking her feet in her bed from under the blankets. “Tell us a different one!”

“Yeah, new story!” He looked at his younger sisters, each squished into a much too small bed with one another. They each began kicking up a fuss, chanting together for a different story.

He could only sigh as he rested the worn out book down into his lap. “I’ve gone through all the stories already and we don’t have any more books. Besides, this one is your favorite!” 

Despite his words, they continued to chant. “New story, new story!”

“Girls, quiet!” Patton looked over to the bed with some of his other sisters that were a bit closer to him in age. “If you ask nicely, perhaps Patton can make up a new story for you.”

“New story then, right.” Patton closed the book in his lap and took a moment. “Okay, so, once upon a time… there was a princess who dreamed of exploring the world and going on a big adventure…”

---

The early morning sun was just barely making its way over the horizon. The sherbet colors of the sky were blocked by mountains and starting to light up the town and surrounding forest. It was always the best part of Patton’s day. He appreciated that nothing could stop the stubborn sun from getting up every single morning. Sure, clouds and rain could block it, but he knew that behind all that was the sun, making its daily journey across the sky. If the sun can get up and face the day every morning, then gosh darn it, so can he! He loved mornings the most. His sisters were still asleep and his parents let him keep to his own devices as they got ready for the day. Patton had to tend to the few chickens that had survived the harsh winter and tend to the few crops the poor soil could manage to grow. He always had a bandana tied around his neck to help wipe away the sweat as he worked and rolled up his sleeves as he dug in the dirt. Then, he had to separate what they could keep for themselves and what they could sell. By then, the early morning market would be open and Patton could run down with his small supply to the stand he had helped build and try to see how much he could make. Some mornings, his mother managed to throw a loaf of bread or two onto the pile. On colder mornings, fresh warm bread was the best and Patton would always come home with a few more copper coins in his pocket. Life wasn’t perfect but it was what he was given to work with and that was more than enough. Most days he got to be outside and enjoy the warm sun on his tanned skin, and the rain was always a refreshing change of pace that helped crops grow, even if it didn’t agree with his dark, curly hair that would always frizz up. They could only afford one raincoat and most days it was Patton’s to use. He would tend to the garden and animals and still be able to go to the market with a lower risk of getting sick. 

And yet… every day, Patton looked to the sky and closed his eyes as the warmth of the sun shined down on him, dreaming of the day he would finally step foot out of the town and start his own adventure. He loved his family and what he had, but nothing in the village ever changed. He and his parents pushed to keep their family warm and fed since his sisters were still so young. Even the closest to him in age was just becoming an adult, but Patton wanted to make sure they all got the chance he always wanted. They would finish their schooling first before they would help out the family in hopes that one day, they’d be able to do more with their lives. He wanted them to have the opportunity he had given up.

On the bright side, life at the market was always interesting. Every day, the same few people would set up and try to sell whatever their families managed to harvest. Patton set up next to an older woman named Mrs. Morris that specialized in making jams. She was friendly and loved to talk but was a terrible gossip. Patton always got the latest scoop, not that he ever really cared, but it was nice when she had heard something about his sisters.

“Patton, sweetie, I’m so glad you’re here! You won’t believe what Margaret is up to now!”

After a couple hours in the sun, Patton sighed and looked down in his basket at the scraps that still remained. There were a few things he thought he might be able to sell off easy, but it just wasn’t his day. The sun had climbed high in the sky by that point. Standing at his makeshift table any longer was wasting time he could be doing chores and helping out back home, unfortunately. Packing up, Patton cleared off his little table so it would be ready the next morning for him. He grabbed his basket and headed back up the hill to his family’s cottage after waving goodbye to the others in the market.

“Mama, I’m back,” he kicked the door behind him shut as he walked in, kicking off his muddy boots. “We have leftovers today.”

He walked into the kitchen and found his mother preparing lunch for everyone. The short, middle-aged woman looked exhausted as always. The tired look in her eyes always broke his heart. “Well, that’s quite alright. There’s always tomorrow!”

“Right,” he mumbled, forcing a smile on his face. His mother always said that. ‘There’s always tomorrow’. Tomorrow always brought the same things. How many tomorrows have his mother waited until she expected something good to happen? How many times can she hope that tomorrow will bring something better? Her unwavering optimism was admirable and a bit heartbreaking at the same time. “Well, where is everyone?”

“Out. Your sisters didn’t have lessons today so I sent them out to keep them from going stir crazy. No need to be cooped up inside all day.”

Patton hummed and unpacked the basket of things that they would be able to use before pausing at the sound of a distant thump. He waited until he heard it again before looking out the back window, watching his father chop a log for firewood.  The bearded man lifted the axe and swung it down through a log of wood before pulling back. He huffed and puffed a bit, trying to catch his breath after, placing a hand on his lower back. The small stack of wood next to him showed that he hadn’t been at it for very long. “What is Father doing? He’s going to hurt himself!”

“Oh, you know him. Wanted to help and telling him ‘no’ is like talking to a wall.”

“He threw out his back last time, what is he thinking?” Patton marched to the back door but stopped when his mother reached out and gently grabbed his arm.

“I know, dear, but he’s feeling a bit down about not being able to help out much and you’ve been doing so much lately. Just let him have this?” 

He hesitated a moment before pulling his hand away from the doorknob. “If he hurts himself again, he’s not allowed to chop firewood ever again.”

“Oh, I’d love to see you stop him. I think you’re the only one who could, just as stubborn as he is.”

Patton smiled and helped with lunch while glancing occasionally out the back window. He kept a close eye on his father, watching as he huffed and struggled to do just a little bit of chopping. He was happy to call him eat once lunch had been prepared. Then, after everyone had eaten, he helped clean up before helping his mother clean. There would be a loose floorboard or something would have broken that he would try and fix. Just before dinner, his sisters would beg for him to play and no matter how tired he was, he could never say no. He would eat, clean up and head to bed after telling them a story, just like he did every night. He would wake up just before the sun the next day and repeat this process over and over, as he always had, and always will.

Such was the life of Patton Darling.

----

“Marissa, where is your younger sister? It’s time to leave for your lessons!” “Which sister, Ma? There’s half a dozen of us.”

“I’ve got her.” Patton walked in with his youngest sister, Tabby, trailing behind him. “She’s all dressed and ready to go!” Patton held onto the heavy basket in his arms as he watched his sisters get ready for the day. He had to head down to the marketplace before it got to be too late, but some mornings, he couldn’t help but get wrapped up in the chaos that was the Darling household. 

Tabby turned around and smiled up at her big brother. “Patty, can you get a new book to read to us at night, please? Pretty please?!”

“I go to the market to make money, Tabs, not spend it.” She looked up at him, crocodile tears shining in her eyes. He sighed, knowing to not even bother fighting with her. “I can look, but no guarantees! Okay?” She ran forward and gave him a hug, almost knocking into the basket. “Thanks, Patty!”

Seeing all his sisters run out the door was enough to get Patton moving. He was late already, but he could still make the morning rush if he hurried to his stand. Rushing down the hill to the center of town and waving to his younger sisters, Patton held his basket close as he headed for his makeshift stall to sell the little their family had to offer. 

It wasn’t the best source of income, but with Patton’s father growing older in age, it was getting harder and harder to make ends meet. Patton never knew how much he would manage to sell that day. The side of the market he sold at was usually filled with men in similar situations just trying to get by for their own families. The only times they managed to sell anything were when the main shops were running low or people were in a hurry and needed something cheap. Most days left Patton with a basket heavier than he hoped and his wallet lighter than he wished.

This particular morning went okay. He managed to sell a bit he had gotten that morning fresh from the garden. The weather was growing warmer and Patton’s strawberry plant was starting to sprout as spring started. Selling fresh strawberries would help greatly, but that was still far too long in advance. The plant was weeks from flowering, let alone growing any fruit.

As the sun stood high in the sky, Patton looked over to the center of town. His savings dried up when his father had hurt himself in the winter; otherwise, Patton would just go and buy a new book for his sisters right now. The crowds had begun to thin out as the village went about their own business and other stalls began to pack up for the day. It wasn’t going to be a good day, yet again, though Patton couldn’t do much about it.

Packing up his small basket, he frowned and turned back into town. He couldn’t afford to spend any of the earnings frivolously, but it couldn’t hurt to look for a book and see how much he would need. It was at least something he could do for his sisters. Even if the ones closest to him in age weren’t into fairy tales, they did enjoy reading as much as Patton had, even if he didn’t get the chance to read very often for fun.

The town really had thinned out, but there were still plenty of people hustling by, dropping off deliveries and worrying about their own lives. Weaving through the crowds, Patton found the small library that was also attached to the outpost in case any guards from the castle stopped by. They were pretty far out so the space was often just used as storage, but the building needed someone to maintain the upkeep, so a library it was. New books didn’t come through often and when they did get a delivery, it was usually for the small school. Patton missed the days of learning he had, but he left school early to help his family so his sisters wouldn’t have to do the same.

The old door creaked open but no one was visible inside. The librarian was more of a maintenance man taking care of the old building that also just happened to take care of the books while he was at it. Walking carefully, the small selection on the shelves stared back at Patton as he couldn’t help but smile. He didn’t have much time, but he could sort through and try to pick something out before he had to head back home. There wasn’t much to choose from, but he did find a book or two that would do the job. They weren’t terribly expensive either! He could pull a few extra errands for a little while and hopefully have enough to purchase the book by the end of the month!

He left the library, basket in hand, filled with new hope. It wasn’t as quick as his sisters would have liked, but it was the best he could do. He loved to spoil them any chance he got and it had been a rough winter for all of them, but this was enough to put a spring back in Patton’s step. “Woah!” Patton stumbled back and his heart jumped as he barely managed to run into someone in his excitement. “Careful there!” “I’m so sorry!” Patton checked his basket and looked back up as he apologized. “I didn’t see you there!” “I suppose I was walking too close to the door, my apologies!” Patton blinked and grew confused as he realized he didn’t recognize the man in front of him. “I didn’t mean to slow you down.” “Oh, no! That’s okay! Are, uh. Are you new here? Just passing through?” “Is it that obvious?” The man laughed and ran a hand through his hair nervously. “Yeah, I’m a traveling messenger. Saw this quaint little village and decided to see if I could resupply before heading out.”

“Oh!” Patton perked up and smiled. “That’s so exciting!”

The man laughed again as the sparkle and wonder lit up in Patton’s eyes. “Yeah, nothing too glamorous, but I get to enjoy the view everywhere I go.” “That’s so cool! I’ve always wanted to leave this village and see new sights! Have you got any amazing adventure stories?” “Calm there, friend. I’m nothing special, but I have seen a thing or two. How about you show me where I could stock up on supplies and I tell you a tale?” “Of course!” Shifting his basket to one arm, Patton stuck out a hand. “Name’s Patton Darling!”

The stranger took his hand and gave it a firm shake. “Roman. Roman Grimsby.”

“Well, Roman Grimsby,” Patton shifted his basket into both hands once more as he turned to walk. “What brings you to our village?” “I’m headed to the castle, actually. Have some business there.” Patton froze immediately and stared at Roman. “Something wrong?” “The castle? You have business at the castle?!”

“Nothing like that, just delivering a letter to someone’s family, then I head back with the response. So nothing too special.”

Despite Roman trying to shake it off, Patton was immediately taken with the stranger. “But you still get to go to the castle! That’s amazing! I’ve never even left this town!” “Well,” Roman turned and started walking once more. “Maybe one day you and I can have a real adventure of our own, hm?” Patton felt his heart flutter as he raced after the messenger, catching up to show him the way.

---

“And he told me about this time he had to cross this bridge but it was out! He managed to climb down and across and back up in a day! It wasn’t too steep but then he was behind, so he took a shortcut through these thick woods and-” “Patty!” Patton jumped at the sound of his mother’s raised voice. “You’ve been talking about this Roman fella for a while! You keep talking about this boy and I’m gonna start thinkin’ that you’re smitten with him.”

Patton flushed at the accusation, Roman’s smile flashed in his mind as he shook his head. “No, ‘course not! But he promised he’d come back through so I could talk to him again!” His mother gave him a look before he huffed. “Ma, I haven’t had a friend my age since I was schooled! I’m working all the time, let me have one person in my life outside this family?”

Patton regretted the words immediately as his mother looked down in guilt. “You’re right, I’m sorry. Just teasin’ ya is all. I’m glad to see you being so excited all the time. I’ve missed that smile on your face, my baby boy.”

“Maaaaa, don’t say things like that!” Patton smiled and reached out, wrapping his mother in a hug. “I do it ‘cause I love my family. It’s just nice to get a break once in a while.”

“I know, baby.” His mother reached up and Patton bowed his head so she could plant a kiss on it. “I just want what’s best for you. One day, we’ll all be good and I want you to be able to live your life and not worry about all of us, alright?”

“Of course, Mama.”

Though, Patton knew that wish was still far from coming true.

A few days had passed and Patton had begun doing extra chores around the village. He helped pull weeds and garden for some of the older villagers for a few coins. Some had housework that Patton didn’t mind helping with. Loose floorboards and windows that needing some fixing because they wouldn’t open. A few odds and ends took up all of his spare time before he headed home and did the same for his own family.

It wasn’t until a week later that a familiar traveler made his way back through the village. Patton was at his stall, trying to sell a day old loaf of bread when Roman approached him with a few copper coins in his hands. “Roman!” Patton almost dropped the bread he had been trying to sell for pretty much anything at that point. He held the loaf close to his chest and smiled at the messenger. His heart fluttered as Roman smiled back at him “You’re back!”

“Indeed, I have returned as promised! Now, how much?” The messenger pointed to the loaf of bread. “Oh, no! I couldn’t!” Patton shifted back, hiding the loaf close to his chest. 

Roman raised a brow and shifted on his feet, holding a hand out with three copper pieces in it. “You were willing to sell it just a moment before, but now that you have a buyer, you have changed your mind? It must be the best bread in the whole village!” Patton smiled but shook his bread. “Oh, no. The baker has far better options. This is just a load ma made yesterday that I couldn’t sell.” “Then three copper is plenty, right?” Roman placed the money on the makeshift stall Patton always used before reaching out and grabbing the bread. Patton looked up at him silently as he let go, watching the other wrap it in cloth before shoving it into his bag. “That will be wonderful with my dinner tonight, thank you Patton.” “O-oh. You’re welcome.”

Roman had kept his promise to talk before he ventured off back to his employer. Roman Grimsby was the opposite of Patton in many ways. He grew up an only child and left his family the first change he got. He wanted to travel, but not really to adventure. He had hoped to find a place to settle down and make a life somewhere before he came across the messenger job. He never actively sought out adventure, letting it come to him instead. Patton was enraptured by his stories, desperately wishing to be a part of them one day. Traveling with Roman and waiting to see what the next horizon would bring or snuggled next to each other under the stars at night to keep warm. 

Luckily, Roman’s messenger job was not yet completed. He would be delivering letters back and forth for a little while, giving him the chance to stop by the village as he traveled through. Every time, Roman would wave goodbye with a promise to stop by next time he was in the area. Every time, it was heartbreaking to Patton. He never knew when Roman would come back, if he ever would. He was simply exchanging letters to someone closer to the castle and this was the best route for him to take, but who knows how long that would last? Patton always sent him off with a snack and a smile, hoping his promise to return would be sooner than the last.

Chapter 2>>

[mwitchipoo]

In a previous post, I talked about the passing of Genesis Breyer P-Orridge. Gen passed away almost a month after S/He celebrated h/er 70th Lesser Feast, aka birthday.

  I first heard about Psychic TV way back during high school. This was during the ’80s. It was nearly the height of my Siouxsie wannabe phaze, which actually last a few years. (During high school, I was a Siouxsie clone.) By this point I was hopping around all the import record shops down in NYC’s Greenwich Village area. I remember all of the Temple Record releases. I believe this might’ve been the era where Psychic TV tried to release 23 albums, on the 23rd day for 23 months. Already the PTV brand caught my eye.

  One day, a friend told me a mutual friend of ours took her to see Psychic TV over at The (old) Ritz, which is where Webster Hall now stands. Her assessment wasn’t much. She called them ‘pretentious.’ Looking back, her attention span probably was due to the lack of the ‘cute’ guy factor. Despite her negative review, this only peaked my interest more. My disregard for her scoffing was proven correct. This ‘friend’ later went from being Goth to chasing after all those tacky hair metal glam bands of the late ’80s. Don’t ever trust a Guns n Roses fan.

The turning point was a purchase of the seminal RE/Search book Modern Primitives. Before tattoos, piercings and body modification were accepted in the mainstream, the underground movement was documented by V.Vale. After purchasing the book from See/Hear, I discovered a new world. Among those interviewed were Genesis P-Orridge and his first wife, formerly known as Paula P-Orridge. It wasn’t just tattoos they discussed. Through this book, I discovered many other worlds. I believe this was one of the first times I heard about Alister Crowley and William S. Burroughs. After reading about the frequency of the number 23, I started seeing 23s everywhere. Maybe it was my subconsciousness bringing it on. Later I discovered The 23 Current. It was my introduction to the esoteric, or occulture.

After barely graduating high school, I started collecting Psychic TV albums. Similarly I learned about the Thee Temple Ov Psychick Youth. I sent away for information. The instructions received wasn’t something I was prepared for – although I kept that manual for many years. (Might even still own it)

Finally had a chance to see Psychic TV live in NYC, year 1991. This was during their ‘Acid House’ era. To this day it still remains one of the best concerts I saw in my life. Why I say this. Looking back on the concert, it wasn’t the performance, but the vibe, the energy. It’s only now I realize that concert might’ve altered my life. My perceptions slowly started to change. Still, it wasn’t until many years later when I decided to act upon my influences.

As the ’90s went on, my life switched directions. Psychic TV wasn’t on my radar so much. Occasionally I brought scattered PTV releases, such as a (now) rare spoken word CD which was later *stolen* (a-hem).  In the meantime, Gen, Paula and their two daughters had to go into exile. After settling in California, Gen and Paula divorced.

In California, Genesis P-Orridge later got into a nasty accident while hanging out with the British band Love & Rockets. Escaping a fire, Genesis later sued record producer Rick Rubin, winning a large financial sum.

Didn’t get into Psychic TV again until maybe around the early 2000s. By then, Gen had moved to NYC, met Lady Jaye, and a new chapter developed. It was known as the ‘Pandrogeny Project.’

In summer 2007, I saw Psychic TV live for the second time. The concert was at The Bowery Ballroom. I had just arrived back from Kansas City to NYC. It was the end of a chapter in my own personal life. During this gig, Lady Jaye was in the background playing the tambourine, as the latest incarnation of Psychic TV, now known as PTV3, embraced a more guitar psychedelic vibe. Video montages of the Pandrogeny couple flickered on stage as the band performed.

NEW YORK STORY (2007) originally made as a video projection to be projected behind the band Psychic TV during their live performances. Breyer P-Orridge, also known as Genesis P-Orridge and (recently deceased) life partner Lady Jaye, have garnered attention in recent years by undergoing medical procedures to eliminate their physical differences. “One of the central themes of our work is the malleability of physical and behavioral identity,” they explain, giving rise to their merged identity. The two intended to create a new gender, the “pandrogyne” called Breyer P-Orridge. This video takes Breyer P-Orridges exploration of the fictional self one step further. A video about identity and trans/formation that blurs the line between fantasy and reality. A video by Nicolas Jenkins

Unfortunately Lady Jaye dropped her body that same year. I managed to catch this incarnation of PTV3, just in time.

After Lady Jaye’s death, Genesis Breyer P-Orridge continued with Psychic TV. I saw Gen’s spoken word performances numerous times during this period. (One spoken word project was known as Thee Majesty.) Once was when Gen was on the same bill as (early) Cold Cave and Boyd Rice. It was commemorating the anniversary of the Manson murders. The last spoken word GPO performance I saw was in 2015. S/He opened up for Japanese noise musician Merzbow. Gen’s whole set was really about Lady Jaye, eight years after her death. It was the saddest I’ve seen Gen. Afterwards, Gen walked on stage in the middle Merzbow’s set, no reason given. S/He stood there for a few minutes, then walked off. That was it. The concert version of “photo bombing.” My words the next day: ‘Gen is not a well woman.’ 

In 2016, Gen had an extensive exhibit at the Rubin Museum, Try To Altar Everything.

Winter 2019. I decided to see Cold Cave in concert again, partly because Psychic TV was booked to be the opening act. This was never meant to be. At this point, Gen was diagnosed with leukemia. The night of the concert, Genesis was much too ill to perform. PTV had no choice but cancel their set last minute.

That’s when I knew Gen didn’t have too long to live.

Luckily, Gen found a new love, who supported not only Gen emotionally, but was comfortable living with Lady Jaye’s memory.

Now it’s 2020, a year of chaos and uncertainly. While COVID-19 was just starting to be acknowledged as a serious threat, news broke about Gen’s passing. Just happen to be cruising through Instagram, when I stumbled upon a post by Cold Cave. Genesis Breyer P-Orridge went on to H/She’s Greater Feast on  Gen’s death was expected, but it still left a void. Despite all the controversies, (people have told me over the years how S/he screwed many people over), Gen still broke boundaries, influencing many worldwide. It’s this blog post that I acknowledge the crucial influence GPO had upon me.

Here’s an illustration I did the other night. It’s Genesis P-Orridge from s/he early PTV days. Around the time Thee Temple of Psychick Youth was formed.

Poor-trait of Genesis Breyer P-Orridge from the early Psychic TV days. Illustration by Michele Witchipoo. March 2020. 

The next and final GPO post will focus on COUM Transmissions and mainly, Throbbing Gristle. Stay tuned.

Psychic TV (R.I.P. GPO) In a previous post, I talked about the passing of Genesis Breyer P-Orridge. Gen passed away…

[monasatlantis]

What I think of chapter 15 to 18 of MrLove Queens Choice

SPOILER!

Chapter 15:

 - Best chapter of the four

- Pacing was great

- Most interesting mixture of Action, Drama, Slice of life and Romance if you compare it to the other 3

- In this chapter it was palpable that MC has fallen for Gavin (you can feel it in the other chapters with the other boys too, but not as strongly as with Gavin)

- MC and Gavin caring for a child together was kind of cute, even tho it took a very dark turn in the end

- A freaking ferris wheel? This practically screamed “Romantic date” to me, especially when adding flying in the nightsky and running through the rain together

- With Victor missing, Kiro gone too and Lucien being on the other side, Gavin was the only person MC had left (which knew about EVOL and the danger she is in) in those awful times and she clung desperately to him the whole time

- So. Much. Crying.

- “Its just the Flu. It will pass!”

- “Okay… but… I mean… its still just a flu, they will find a cure soon, right?”

- “WHY IS NO ONE SAVING THAT BOY FROM THAT FLU?!”

- I vote for making it illegal to shot a little child in a game

- That poor boy was shot in the chest and Gavin says “He will be fine” when MC asked if he was dying and I was like: “Yeah… sure…”

- We should forbid MC to close her eyes or lose consciousness. We always miss some mayor plot-stuff here! The shot she heard when she had escaped with Gavin to that seemingly save place, was obviously just a warning, but was it aimed at him… or at her?

 Chapter 16:

 - I usually don’t like Lucien-Chapters, because I don’t like Lucien and so they always turn out boring for me, but this was the best Lucien-chapter so far and in my eyes the second best chapter of those four

- I like Lucien finally being his true self (Ares) and showing his real face (mostly) to MC and us. I despised the front he put up infront of MC to deceive her

- Lucien was toying with MC again but this time I kind of… liked it? It felt… like their real dynamik this time when he played Cat and Mouse with her at the press conference

- MC pretending to not care about that Pen and then still going to get it back XD

- Did anyone actually really expected MC to mistrust Lucien after his last chapter? Tze, she was already done with that before the last arc ended

- The most interesting part in this chapter for me how Lucien would deal with finally being his true self but still being in love with MC and it was a mixed blessing just as it was to be expected from a character like him

- Lucien is far too powerful with his ability to copy other people’s powers, so it was nice that it was shown (and also mentioned) that he has his limits and that using this powers takes its toll

- I believe Lucien knew that MC would be targeted by Hades because of their talk at the beginning of the chapter, so its very likely that he became part of that rather irritating press-conference to not just see her again, but also so he could protect her, in case Hades would in fact attack his weakspot (and Lucien might deny it as much as he likes MC is probably his only weakspot)

- Deleting her Memories of what happened was more for her own protection than for his as far as I got it, so he gathered some points with me here (tho I never doubted that he loved her, that was, despite all the lies, very clear to me)

- Lucien got to know that when the time comes, MC will be willing and able to trust him again and that he is still an important person for her that she cares for so I think in the end Hades plan didn’t only bring Lucien pain, tho letting her go again surely must not have been easy

- Here too the mixture of action, drama and romance was very well done and fitting for the circumstances

 Chapter 17:

 - Weakest chapter of them all for me

- Helios is hot AF like… I almost drooled all over my phone XD

- Helios different demeanor towards Mc was a bit… overwhelming in a way. I didn’t expect him to keep her at arm’s length like that and it took some getting used to (and it was kind of calming when he finally showed actually signs of worry)

- The plot kind of let to nowhere? It also felt like a reverse version of Luciens/Ares – chapter in some way and had a similar ending too but the pacing wasn’t as good

- Did I mention that Helios is really hot? Like… is this really Kiro? Would Kiro also be that hot if he would wear those clothes or does this hotness come with the hair? Achem… moving on…

- They could have used a different background for the place they were last in, instead of reusing the one for the archive of the Hospital, it was kind of confusing for a moment

- I loved how MC immediately knew that Helios was Kiro and I am sure inside he was very happy about that too

- I loved how MC didn’t allow Helios to fool her, although he did a really good job at trying to “pretend” to be a totally different person (not to mention, she didn’t allow him to fool her despite the fact that she is usually such an oblivious dummy…)

- MC was so desperate to find her Kiro, which made it even harder to live with how coldly he treated her

- I wanted to kick MC for internally complaining about Helios not paying attention towards the fact that she hit a fucking lamp with her hand (or head?) while he was busy protecting her from gunshots. I mean, I know this was a comparison thing, she wanted to make sense of him looking and feeling like Kiro while he denied that he was in fact Kiro by making it clear to herself that Kiro would pay more attention to how he handles her… but she didn’t consider how different this situation was from any other situation she had ever been in with Kiro and that saving her from bullets didn’t exactly allow him to be very gentle and blow on her wound after she got hurt

- (Despite that… the Date for Kiros/Helios 9.99$ Top-Up-Card showed Helios touching her in a way that technically speaking only could be described as “tender” but MC stated clearly that the touch was neither soft nor gentle, so it makes me wonder if Kiro as Helios is not able to be gentle and soft?)

- I feel sorry for that ominous asshole of an uncle somehow, because he felt like a last minute-drama-plot-device

- There is one huge difference between what Ares did and what Helios did. If Lucien comes back, MC might not remember what he did for and with her, but she hasn’t forgotten what she feels towards him, Kiro on the other hand made it seemingly (once again, see the Top-Up-Event-Card-Date) impossible for MC to see that Helios and Kiro are the same person so the only way for her to love him again, is to fall in love with this other side of him without knowing that he is just another side of Kiro

- What actually happened to that Doctor?

- Did I mention how hot Helios is? Now… imagine him coolly driving a black SUV and drool with me

 Chapter 18:

 - Was not bad, but it wasn’t good enough to be the best or even second best chapter of those 4

- Victors chapters almost always feel different from the other boys chapters, like there is something deeper going on there, which also makes the start of the chapters a little bit slower and often gives more space for the relationship-drama between Victor and MC then the actual plot and then all of the sudden, shortly before the end of the chapter, hell breaks loose, action and drama everywhere and then the chapters ends with you crying

- I think all the boys (and MC of course) suffered greatly in those chapters but I would say Victor suffered the most of all of them, knowing what was about to come and being unable to change it despite trying so hard (even before his chapter… he asked her if she really wants him to come back… it was breaking my heart to hear him doubt it)

- Was Victor wearing the same shirt the whole time? Because MC mentioned several days that it was still that ruffled shirt

- Victor calling MC “Dummy” is not an insult, it’s a confirmation XD

- The domestic vibe that comes from them referring to the same place when they say ”Let’s go home” *.*

- Victor knowing the password to Luciens house and having a weird but rather casual talk with him? WTF?!

- Far too many questions that stayed unanswered

- Just when I thought that they should have mentioned one more time what happened to that poor boy from the Gavin-Chapter he comes back in that way and I wished he would have never been mentioned again

- What does Helios want from Gavin and since when are they all suddenly working with each other?

- Weren’t the last parts of that chapter a little bit too cruel and too creepy?

- Who did allow you to shoot my Victor?

- How come that neither Gavin nor Helios nor Lucien showed up at the end? I mean all those boys are keeping an eye on their Princess so how could they not have known that she was in crucial danger that day? I get that this was Victors moment, but I find it almost unbelievable that neither of the other 3 did catch wind about this situation or were not willing to come after all the suffering they went through for her

- I wasn’t crying… I was just very tired… yes… that was it… why would I have been crying? *sniff*

- Get yourself a man that loves you like Victor loves MC

 Other than that:

 - Music was great

- Plot was mostly very good

- Far too much confusing things or unanswered questions

- Gavin showing up at the end of the Helios chapter was kind of anti-climatic. Don’t get me wrong, I was glad to see him alive and I get why it was important for him to return to MC once before the end of this arc… but it felt totally wrong that once again, in a chapter that was Kiros, MC was saved by Gavin. Seeing that the next chapter was a Victor chapter, even him showing up would have been better, if it was really necessary that Helios would not be the one

- SPOILER! I would have thought they would introduce Gavins brother in a different way… (di*k move by the way, to make it look like he helped her, since in the end, I think what he really wanted was Black Swans Plan to come full circle)

- What are we going to do now that the future that Victor saw couldn’t be prevented?

- Can we please see how the boys will react to MCs death? Like… will they really forget her, like the black Queen said?

- I found it really interesting that those chapters kind of showed what these man are willing to do or give up on because they love MC so much

- On the other hand, seeing that she will end up with only one of them eventually, it is extremely sad that they ALL suffer for her/because of her

- I’ve heard the upcoming chapters are even more painful… but I can hardly imagine that it can get any worse than that

[dazstormretro]

Bored of Gaming? - Jan 1997

“Who loves orange soda? Kel loves orange soda! I do, I do, I do-oooh!" is an all time classic quote from a kids television show I had discovered around this time. The show in question was of course Nickelodeon’s Keenan and Kel which I would religiously tune into watch. Granted by January of 1997 I was eighteen years old, out of college and shouldn’t really have found this comedy duos tomfoolery entertaining but I didn’t care, I loved this show and from what I can gather so did many more people my age.

Other notable goings on which spring to mind around this period include Professional Widow by Tori Amos which was riding high in the music charts, one of my favourite films The Frightners staring Michael J Fox was selling well at the cinema and Chris Evans had left BBC Radio One to concentrate on his TFI Friday television program (man I loved that show).

My latest gadget was a Motorola Pager which I had received that Christmas from my parents. Prior to mobile phones becoming affordable owning a pager was the only convenient way to receive messages on the go plus you could swagger down the street thinking you looked cool. Now I was at the height of technology and could be contacted within minutes (as long as I had ten pence and access to a payphone!) Thinking about it that was actually the first Christmas in seven years that I hadn’t asked for anything video game related?

Having decided to take a year out before heading off to university most of 1997 consisted of making pizzas at my local Asda for minimum wage then spending that wage on going out, music and the occasional video game. My latest PlayStation purchase was inspired by that great summer of 1992 when I borrowed my cousins Amiga 500. One of the standout games which I couldn’t get enough of that summer was The Secret of Monkey Island and once completed I craved more point and click adventures. Over the next couple of years I would play through Full Throttle, Toonstruck and Indiana Jones and the Fate of Atlantis.

Fast forward to February of 1997 and after reading a glorious review I splashed the cash on a copy of Broken Sword: The Shadow of the Templar’s. Blasting demons in Doom and ragging around race tracks in Ridge Racer was all well and good but getting lost in the plot of a decent point and click adventure was defiantly a welcome change of pace.

Taking control of George Stobbart, an American tourist on vacation in Europe I set about my quest. After surviving a bomb attack outside a small cafe in Paris I was whisked away on an adventure which would take me to various locations around the globe eventually finding myself investigating the Knights Templar. For the time the graphics were extremely detailed and well animated plus having a fully voiced cast was quite novel coming off the back of the SNES.

Broken Sword was certainly a worthwhile purchase and kept me entertained during those long winter nights but as March rolled around my attention was once again distracted by Nintendo. On March the 1st following numerous delays and years of waiting the fabled N64 was finally available in the UK. Released alongside five titles which included the aptly named Mario 64 and and Pilotwings 64 the system was an instant sellout at £250 (plus another £50 per game).

I’m sure like with most previous consoles I would have been foaming at the mouth to get my grubby mitts on the system but at those prices I had to wait until the following year. One person who did purchase an N64 at launch was my mate Rob (probably with his student loan). Unfortunately Rob was still away at university so I was unable to marvel at Nintendo’s latest creation so it was back to my PlayStation for the time being.

The months past bye and if memory serves me correct I didn't purchase many new PS1 titles during this period. For the first time in my life I was working full time plus combined with a busy social life and girlfriends video gaming was put on the back burner. My PlayStation was now gathering dust underneath my TV and with home consoles becoming more powerful the arcade scene was basically dead. Sure there was the odd drunken night following a pub crawl when a group of us would get together and play Tekken 3 until the early hours of the morning but these were few and far between. Was I becoming bored of gaming?

The actual prospect of ‘growing out of video games’ was rather scary at the time having enjoyed them for so many years which in turn had produced so many wonderful memories, memories which had defined who I was. Luckily this was just a dry spell and my passion for video gaming would once again resume later that year.

By the September of 97 another chapter of my life had begun, I was now a full time university student. Armed with a single suitcase which contained my clothes, music cassettes (including I’ll Be Missing You by Puff Daddy and Faith Evans which I played on repeat) and of course my PlayStation. My main reason for bringing the PlayStation were twofold. Firstly it would serve as a way to kill time until I found my feet in this strange new environment and secondly as a social magnet to hopefully help bring together the people who I would be living with. Turns out this was a good move and I soon found myself surrounded by like-minded people who shared the same interest in video games as I did. What better way to end a good drunken night out than getting together in a small cramped student dorm room whilst playing PlayStation with your fellow flat mates until the sun came up.

I have fond memories of those late night gaming sessions which shared many similarities to my couch co-op days growing up as a kid. This was of course pre-online gaming (unless you were a posh PC kid) so any multiplayer gaming happened under the same roof. Back in my Mega Drive and SNES days those shared gaming experiences of trying to beat Contra 3 in two player mode or taking on a mate in Street Fighter 2 were priceless. Unfortunately as we grew up those days seemed to be long gone but with the help of a few fellow students I was able to rekindle those happy times once more so I’m happy to report that couch co-op was still alive and kicking back in 97!

[hookaroo]

Vocivore, Ltd. (17 of ?)

A OUAT WINTER WHUMP FIC

Also on FFN and AO3 (still need to update there!) (ListerofTardis)

Tagging @ouatwinterwhump, @killian-whump, @cocohook38, @killianjonesownsmyheart1, and @courtorderedcake <3

***THE MOST WONDERFUL COVER ART BY COCOHOOK38 HERE!!!!!******

****ALSO!!!!!!!!!!!!Chapter 12 animation and art that will absolutely astound you!!! THANK YOU MY WONDERFUL COCONUT FRIEND!!!!!!!!!!*************

Present (Thursday)...

Many years ago, before swearing off alcohol for good, Jones had once gotten so drunk that he’d slipped on a steep trail to the beach and slid the rest of the way down, tumbling and bouncing nearly 12 meters before landing among the rocks below. Waking from that little mishap probably had the edge over how he was feeling this morning… but not by much.

“Papa?”

Jones gritted his teeth, knowing that shifting positions on the couch would drive a stake straight through his chest and out the other side, as it had done all night long.

“Sorry to wake you,” murmured Alice from somewhere nearby. “We’re off, though, and I wanted…”

She broke off, and Jones dragged one bleary eye open to see the anxiety on her face as she glanced at Robin. “Do you think I should stay?”

“No,” grunted her father. He considered trying to sit up but knew he’d probably only manage to compound Alice’s worry. “Cap’n Smee needs you as rascal wrangler.”

Even clearing his gravelly throat felt like someone stabbing him with an electric screwdriver. Squinting in the direction of the coffee table, Jones was met with the sight of his water glass moving toward his face. Alice held the straw as she offered it to him.

“Postpone, then. We could call everyone. Tell them we need another day to prepare.”

“Please, love,” he wheezed. “Don’t endanger them on my account.”

Jones was mostly successful at hiding a wince as he took the water glass from his daughter. She bit her lip but seemed to concede the point. From the table behind her, Alice produced a pill organizer, saying,

“I saw how hard it is for you to open your medicine bottles, so we thought this would be helpful.” She shook it and the resulting rattle made her grin. “All set up for you, see? It’s even got a divider for morning and night.”

She held it out for him, and after securing the water at his side, Jones gingerly accepted.

“Thank you. That was very thoughtful of you.”

Alice beamed at him, glanced at the clock, then said,

“Suppose it’s about time for your next dose; want to see if you can get it open?”

Jones humored her and pressed the tab that popped the Thursday, AM lid, but said,

“I should probably wait until I’ve had some breakfast.”

“Oh yes! Well, there’s porridge, or maybe you’d like some toast…”

“Later,” he said. “I promise you I can still operate a toaster.”

Robin moved closer then, clutching an ice pack. “Aunt Regina said to tell you that if you need anything, to just call and she’ll be right over.”

“Thank you.” He rested the pill box on his abdomen, slowly reached up, and took the ice from his daughter-in-law. Very carefully, he held it against his swollen cheek, which had nearly obstructed the vision in that eye and was currently throbbing at jig tempo. “I wouldn’t want to pull her from the search, though.”

Robin and Alice exchanged a glance.

“Oh,” said Robin. “I guess no one told you. They found Emma’s car last night.”

“Car?” repeated Jones, thoroughly confused. “Found it where?”

“At the edge of town,” Alice sighed. “Near the monster's territory; no surprise there.”

Quietly, Robin added,

“It seems Killian took Emma’s keys when he left the hospital.”

“Then what the bloody hell were we doing scouring the streets of Storybrooke all afternoon?” Jones glanced around in search of his phone, then realized he had left it plugged in on the kitchen counter. If he’d gotten any messages about the situation, he may not have heard them.

“Apparently, she didn’t notice,” said Robin.

“She is a bit preoccupied,” Alice added, her eyes sad.

“Anyway, this all went down after my aunt dragged your sorry butt back here, but once the car was found, Emma basically just called off the search. No point now; he’s back out of reach again.”

Jones just stared at Robin for a moment, bewildered by this turn of events. True, Emma had been emotional and likely not thinking clearly when she’d leapt through the hospital window in pursuit of her husband. She may have even been dealing with the aftereffects of being knocked unconscious--though she wouldn’t admit it--so it was understandable for her to have overlooked her missing keys. For a little while, anyway. But after hours and hours on foot… wouldn’t the idea of driving as an easier alternative have crossed her mind at least once? She didn’t realize then that the keys were gone?

And then, upon finding the car, to give up immediately? It all seemed very strange to Detective Jones. He’d come to know Emma rather well in the past three years, and she wasn’t the sort to be so easily beaten. Was it possible that the loss of her daughter, and then her husband, had changed her so much?

Or could the monster's influence be tainting her actions somehow?

A chime sounded from Robin’s phone. She checked the screen with a grimace. “We’d better go. We’re already late.”

Alice made a small whine of distress and threw herself down on her knees beside her father. “You’ll be okay, won't you? You won’t get taken over by the mind control too?” She reached for his hand. “Maybe you could come with us on the cruise! We packed some extra supplies, and I have experience going hungry if it comes to that…”

Painfully, Jones gripped her hand and brought it to his cheek in as much of a hug as he could manage. “Don’t worry about me, Starfish. I’m in no danger lying here on this bloody couch.” He placed a kiss on her knuckles, released her hand, then reached up to caress her face. “I’m sure we’ll have a breakthrough soon. Someone will find a solution and then everyone can come home, safe and sound.”

Alice sniffled and then smiled bravely. “We all have our roles to play, yes? Mine and Robin’s is to help with the kids, and yours… is to stay right here on this couch for the next month until you’re all healed up.”

She patted the cushion for emphasis, and Jones nodded ruefully.

“You are absolutely correct.”

Uncertainty crossed Alice’s face as a gathering cloud. “And where does the worry fit in?”

“Worry has its role too,” he admitted. “It’s an unavoidable part of love.”

Alice gently rested her head on his shoulder. “I’ll miss you, Papa.”

“Likewise. Be careful out there.”

“We will. Maybe our phones will work this time. Or in an emergency, we have that radio gadget on board.”

“Good. Speaking of phones, would you mind fetching mine here?”

Alice jumped to her feet, but Robin was already on it. She lay the device on the coffee table, reached down for a farewell squeeze of Jones’ hand, then headed for the door.

“I’m gonna go start the car. Feel better soon, Pops.”

After taking one reluctant step in that direction, Alice returned to her father’s side for one more gentle hug goodbye.

“I love you, Starfish.”

“I love you, Papa.”

Eventually, Alice gathered enough courage to scamper out the door, leaving Jones alone with his thoughts and his pain.

Holding the ice pack in place, he growled and snatched the phone off the table. Regina had texted him the developments, including a photo of the yellow Bug on the side of the road. The car’s passenger side bore minor scratches from the tree against which it had come to rest. From its reported position, Jones calculated the distance to the boundary at which guard slaves would start to appear: approximately a four-hour walk for someone in perfect health. If Emma had not inexplicably called off the search, they may have had enough time to catch up to a slowly moving Killian before he reached it, depending on when the car had been discovered.

But now? Twelve hours later? Jones had a fairly good idea of Killian’s whereabouts.

It didn’t bear thinking about.

*****

Master rarely ventured forth from its compound. There was little need, as it had everything required for survival: its slaves, its Voices, eyes and ears to the surrounding kingdoms. Every requirement, every desire easily fulfilled by a simple directive to one of its limitless supply of minions eager to comply.

It wasn't that Master would be in any danger. It knew all. It could sense approaches. Any remote threat would quickly be extinguished by some of its more expendable slaves long before coming anywhere near Master’s location. So its reclusive nature had more to do with conserving energy.

But this day, Master had a craving. Easily satisfied, and soon, yet the object of that craving seemed hesitant to appear. Despite the sense of lethargy pinpointing his location, Master was in no mood to be merciful. Patience was a virtue not commonly practiced by the monster. It saw no reason to begin now.

Six crustacean legs picked their way through rotting leaves and bone dry pine needles, sometimes sinking deep into the spongy earth, yet never causing a stumble or slowing of pace. In fact, the dozen barefoot slaves accompanying their Master had much more trouble in that regard. Their frequent tumbles to the forest floor mingled with early morning birdsong to provide a jarring marching cadence for the trek. Fixated on the presence hidden somewhere nearby, Master ignored the ruckus. Soon. Soon it would be sated.

An unremarkable brush pile called out to Master, a mess of pine boughs and withered leaves gathered at the base of a tree a hundred paces ahead. Any other being may have overlooked it as a natural occurrence. But outward appearances could not deceive Master’s focused mind. He was under there, the prize, his flavor sharpening with increasing proximity. Master’s spindly legs quickened as its whole being pulsed with need. Its contingent of followers were hard-pressed to keep up. One by one, they dropped back until their Master had a sizeable lead.

The crab-like creature could build up to an impressive velocity with proper motivation. Top speeds required a 90-degree rotation for sideways travel, which Master normally found to be quite undignified. But this close to its quarry, dignity took lowest priority. Master's leading set of legs plowed into the brush pile like a tsunami, sending sticks, leaves, and soil exploding in all directions. The tree trunk was the only thing halting the creature's forward momentum; without its presence, Master would likely have skidded several yards beyond its target and been required to backtrack. As soon as it centered its balance over the pile, its hands, claws, and tentacles were tearing violently at the brush.

The pile stirred. Not only from Master’s frantic digging, but underneath. A flash of skin, the slightest hint of faded gray and blue. Then there came a faint groan. Hearing that Voice again, even on the very edges of perception, sent a quiver of ecstasy to the center of Master’s being. It was not enough; not loud enough, not strong enough. Not soon enough. Master’s indiscriminate pincer dove to the very depths of the pile and clamped with the force of a crocodile’s snapping jaws. Chitin grated against bone, warm, sticky blood drizzled onto leaf litter. Debris shifted, feeble grunts tickled Master’s core with delight, but did not satisfy.

In frustration, Master shifted its claw, altering the angle until a second deep laceration intersected the first.

“Come awake, my Tripod,” hissed the creature as it continued brushing all cover from the battered body beneath. Hopelessly squirming against the vice mauling his left ankle, Tripod finally emerged from the makeshift nest, trying and failing to roll onto his back. The iron grip on his lower leg kept him firmly on his side. He sounded dazed as he breathed a tearful,

“Master…”

“My faithful one,” cooed a charmed Master, its pride over Tripod’s fortitude momentarily overcoming the yearning. “I watched them take you and despaired of your return.” Master yanked on the captive limb and reveled in the catch in Tripod’s breath. “None emerge from that place except as a corpse.”

A tentacle brushed stray soil from the patterned fabric riding high on one discolored hip.

“Did my Tripod miss me as thoroughly as I have missed him?”

It did not fail to notice Tripod’s efforts to pull away from the serpentine tentacle. And that was okay; even the most faithful avoided its touch while simultaneously surrendering their bodies and Voices to their Master’s benefit. The tentacle inched higher, the pincer ground against bone, and Tripod struggled for breath.

“Master,” he whispered, “please…”

Sharp armor slipped on blood, rending more flesh from bone. The slave voiced a feeble yelp and curled toward the mangled limb, but other, older injuries restricted his movement.

“You know what it is I require.”

Another tear slipped from Tripod’s eye as he nodded. Shuddering, the slave shifted his weight, trying to relieve the pressure on his joints.

“Not... Not here. Please,” he begged. The pincer tightened in displeasure; any harder and it might sever the foot entirely. Master’s tentacle slithered onward as it contemplated. Had the days of freedom somehow dulled this slave’s loyalty? Tripod whimpered, his hand balled into a tight fist.

“I may not make it back,” winced Tripod, and Master’s grip relaxed fractionally. Thinking practically, that was all. Good boy.

“No need to concern yourself.” Master stroked him. He groaned. “Your Master will carry you.”

Need swelled within. A delicate claw slipped beneath a silken thread placed into skin much more precisely than any Z could have mustered. In a concerning show of resistance, Tripod wriggled his arm out from underneath himself and reached up as if to shove away his Master’s hand. The attempt was easily overcome by a savage pinch to the wrist, drawing blood and a helpless whine. A mere appetizer. Not nearly enough. Master tore the first suture free, growling,

“Give yourself, Tripod. I must feed.”

Overall, Master had no cause for worry. Tripod had returned on his own, and even if his time among friends had temporarily weakened his loyalty, it would not take long to retrain him. The pincer shifted again, adding additional stripes to the flayed skin of Tripod’s ankle, and the monster shivered a satisfied smile at its slave’s reaction.

The favorite was back. And Master knew exactly how to make him scream.

[kenzieam]

The Call of the Void - Chapter One

Rating: M (language, violence, mentions of torture and abuse, eventual smut, angst)

Genre: Drama/Angst

@captstefanbrandt @iammarylastar @kiiiimberlyriiiicker1995 @notimetoblog @@captain-ariel-barnes @jaamesbbarnes @lancefvcker @bitsandbobsandstuff @softlybarnes @lovelybbarnes @buckitybarnes @bucky-plums-barnes @thottybarnes @moonbeambucky

*IF YOU WANT TO BE ADDED OR DELETED FROM THIS LIST, DM ME*

This is my first attempt at a Bucky story, so please be gentle. Somewhat non-canon; follows the MCU but not too closely. Bucky still loses his arm to Tony like in Civil War, and has been helped in Wakanda by Shuri and given a Vibranium arm, but there is no Thanos or Infinity War, at least not yet.

What happens if Natasha’s sister isn’t really dead, like the Black Widow thought? What if she was trained to track and kill the Winter Soldier but was abandoned by HYDRA when her experiment went awry and the Avengers release her from cyrofreeze?

Word Count: 8k +

Dialogue in italics is Russian

"Okay, so let me get this straight," Bucky leaned forwards, grabbing a handful from the bowl on the coffee table in front of him and glancing to his right, where Steve sprawled in an armchair at the end of the couch Bucky was currently holding down. “If the bus goes slower than 50, it explodes?"

Steve quirked the corner of his mouth, eyes staying locked on the screen. “Yeah.”

“That’s ridiculous.”

“It was the Nineties; it was almost as batshit as the Eighties.”

Bucky turned back to the TV, popping a few bits of Pirate’s Booty into his mouth and frowned, about to ask another question when a crisp female voice spoke. “Captain Rogers, Sergeant Barnes, Mr. Stark is calling an emergency meeting and has requested your immediate presence.”

“Where at, FRIDAY?” Steve asked, chewing thoughtfully.

“In the main briefing room, Captain.”

The men shared a fleeting look and Steve lifted the remote, stopping the movie. Almost as one they stood and walked silently to the door. Even though he was an infamous drama queen and attention whore, Stark didn’t call ‘emergency’ meetings willy nilly.

Stark sat at the head of the table when they arrived, his eyes flicking briefly to them before turning again to the figure pacing restlessly between the table and the wall of windows currently shuttered closed. Clint and Wanda hustled in behind them and quickly sat, Clint staring with concern at Natasha, the one pacing madly.

“Alright, let’s get this party started.” Stark mumbled, sounding surprisingly subdued; that, more so than Natasha’s frenetic pacing, made Bucky’s skin goosebump with anxiety.

Stark watched Nat for a heartbeat. “Care to join us, Widow?”

Mumbling lowly in Russian, Nat whirled and flung herself into a chair opposite the rest of the team. When Stark didn’t immediately start speaking she threw him an exasperated look. Raising his brows mildly, Stark began.

“We found Widow’s sister.”

Nearly identical frowns skittered across the team’s faces before Steve voiced what they all were thinking. “We didn’t know you had a sister, or that she needed to be found.”

Nat sighed, looking down, curling her nails into the tabletop. “Neither did I, I thought she died fourteen years ago.”

Clint chuckled weakly. “You’re going to have to start at the beginning, sweetheart.”

Nat drew in a deep breath, eyes focussed with laser intensity at the spot on the table currently being worried by her nails. “Dominika,” she began, her voice taking on the Russian lilt, giving the name an ethereal sound. “Two years younger than me, and before you ask, yes. My full-blooded sister, we were both brought into the program at the same time. We were trained separately, divided by age into different classes, but Nika was good, I mean really good. The best in her class, hands down-”

“Better than you?” Steve asked warily.

Nat met his gaze evenly. “Yes.” She paused before starting again. “I was being prepped for my first mission when I received the news that she had become sick and died-” the team shifted uncomfortably at Nat’s flat voice. “She was eighteen and I demanded to see her, I couldn’t believe she could just..... leave like that. I would never have trusted their word, but I saw her, I touched her. She was cooling already, starting to stiffen and to make sure I took my knife and cut her throat.”

“Jesus, Nat.” Steve grumbled.

“Not fully,” Nat looked up, a strange gleam in her eyes. “Just enough to see if her blood flowed, and it didn’t. She was dead. Or so I thought..... when you found Zemo and those executed Super Soldiers up in Siberia, Tony uncovered a huge cache of classified computer files. He downloaded them and brought them back.”

“But, in the clusterfuck that came afterward, I forgot about them. Not too long ago I remembered and put FRIDAY on them. They’re heavily encrypted and she still hasn’t fully cracked them all, but we found this.”

“A double agent faked Nika’s death and took her underground into a secret secret project in HYDRA. For two years she was trained and experimented on. They injected her with the same serum as you,” her eyes flicked briefly to Bucky, “and moulded her to become a female Winter Soldier, but with a twist.” Nat broke off then, her voice wavering uncharacteristically and glanced at Stark, who cleared his throat and continued.

“She was supposed to be a Bounty Hunter. In other words, Frosty, if you or any of the other Super-friends went rogue out in the field, she would be dispatched to either apprehend or destroy you. But there was a ‘catastrophic failure’ with the experiment.”

“Failure?” Bucky spat, fists clenched, muscles tense as a bow string, his emotions already a twisted mess; someone else was put through the same shit as him?

“Nika was dropped into cryofreeze after two years, when she was twenty. They didn’t need her for a mission but after a while, they brought her back for tests; to see how the training was holding and discovered that the freeze had malfunctioned, they’d missed a crucial step..... and she’d been conscious the entire time.”

Bucky sucked in a sharp breath, eyes widening in horror. All eyes swivelled to him, brows raised in question. Hiding his trembling hands in his lap, Bucky spoke. “I was punished once, and purposefully left conscious for a time in cryofreeze. Nothing I’ve experienced before or since compares. I wouldn’t wish it on my worst enemy.”

“For how long?” Steve asked, heartbreak and rage warring in his eyes.

“Six days.”

All eyes turned back to Nat, flicking between her and Stark.

“How long for your sister?”

Nat swallowed hard. “Four years, give or take a few weeks.”

Stunned silence followed her answer. Bucky looked like he would be physically sick, while Steve wiped angrily at a sudden tear. “What then?” He demanded.

Stark answered, Nat had fallen silent, her hair a curtain in front of her face. “They didn’t know what the hell to do, so they put her back on ice, properly this time and executed the dumb fucks that cocked-up the first time. They tried a few times to reverse the, as the report puts it, ‘unexpected side-effects’  but they always ending up freezing her again when nothing worked.”

“Where is she?” Wanda spoke finally, her voice a whisper, her accent thick with emotion.

“That’s the part FRIDAY’s still working on, it shouldn’t be too much longer before she cracks it.”

“We’re going to rescue her, right?” Steve stated.

Stark looked to Natasha, who lifted her head reluctantly. “Yes. I can’t stand to think of her locked away alone anymore.”

“But, can we help her?” Bucky asked hesitantly; he knew firsthand the struggle Nat’s sister would be in for if they released her from cryofreeze; the nightmares and crawling sensations, the overwhelming darkness and pain.

Bucky and Tony were working to bury the hatchet, with Steve usually the mediator between them, and they were trying to coexist peacefully; Tony had allowed Bucky to move into the Tower, and join the Avengers, but occasionally Tony couldn’t help but disturb the settling dirt. “Well, we got you to stop playing Grim Reaper.”

A blush of mixed humiliation and rage coloured Bucky’s cheeks and Steve reached over, resting a hand on his tensed forearm.

“How?” The Captain was here, questions crisp and professional.

“I’ve already called Banner, he should be here within the next few days. Once we learn where she is, we bring her back, keep her in that secure holding cell in the basement.... maybe Frosty can talk to her, misery loves company.”

It was on the tip of Bucky’s tongue to tell Stark to fuck off, but Steve gave him another warning squeeze and he remained silent. He had no idea how to help this girl, there were days when he could hardly help himself, hardly drag his own ass out of bed.

“She’ll need intensive therapy,” Steve ploughed ahead. He turned to Bucky. “The same woman you see, and a safe place here, her own room.”

“Not until we’re sure she isn’t going to go postal and murder us in our sleep.” Stark quipped, his natural sarcasm tempered by the pain in his eyes. He cleared his throat, “I’ll set it all up, just keep yourselves ready to ship out, I don’t think Widow here’s going to hold the ride for any stragglers.” Grabbing his phone he started stabbing at it, attention immediately focussed elsewhere, effectively ending the conversation.

Bucky stood and moved to the door, skin crawling, suddenly desperate to get out of this suffocating room. He turned his head to see if Steve was following and paused. Steve had moved to Nat’s side and was speaking lowly to her, her head nodding occasionally in response. Palm sweating he turned and left, deciding to pace the hallway instead. Clint and Wanda wandered out behind him, seemingly still speechless and drifted away, trading waning smiles with him. Stark marched out next, not even noticing Bucky, phone to his ear, yapping and disappeared around the corner. Finally Steve left, arm around Nat’s shoulders. He murmured quietly to her once more, words Bucky focussed on not hearing out of respect for the redhead and watched as she wandered in the same direction as Stark.

The utter desolation on Nat’s face worried Bucky, she was never like this, never so.... beaten. Steve moved beside him, picking up instantly on Bucky’s thoughts.

“I’m worried about her too,” he murmured, then rolled his shoulders, clearing his throat. “I have to hit something, want to train?”

Bucky nodded absently, eyes still trained on the corner.

***************************************************************************************************************************************************** A number of things happened in rapid succession. Bucky’s nightmares returned, full force, robbing him of even the semblance of restful sleep; Banner arrived, his usual self and sequestered himself in the medical labs, prepping for any scenario he could think of regarding the shape they were going to find Nat’s sister in; and FRIDAY finally cracked the encryption of the remaining files.

Bucky was just breathing through a fresh rush of panic, shadowy memories screeching hellfire in his ears when the AI startled him out of his thoughts. Exhaling shakily he leaned back from where he’d been curled on the end of his bed and forced himself to listen to the voice.

“Sergeant Barnes, I detect an accelerated heartbeat and rapid respirations, are you alright?”

“Fine, FRIDAY.”

The AI paused. “You don’t sound fine-”

“I’ll be fine. What’s happening?”

“I have unlocked the location of Miss Romanoff, Mr. Stark requests everyone’s immediate presence in the briefing room.”

Bucky was too grateful for the distraction from his own tortured memories to acknowledge the fact that by agreeing to help extract Nat’s sister, he would most likely be flinging himself from the frying pan to the fire, and diving headfirst into HYDRA and it’s hellish business once again, but thoughts of what Nika had experienced weighed too heavily on him to push away. He couldn’t even fathom what she had lived through, the utter misery that had become her whole existence. HYDRA was not concerned with healing, and no doubt all of their attempts to ‘help’ Nika had failed spectacularly, focussing on repairing the weapon instead of the person beneath. He still had no idea what he could possibly do to assuage her suffering, beyond listen and show her that, with time and help, you could eventually begin to claw through the blackness and discern light around you.

Nat was pacing just as manically as before, radiating tension and threw a dirty look at Bucky when he stumbled inside. He glanced around, blushing slightly to see that he was the last to arrive.

“Ah, Snowman’s here; we can get down to the nut-cutting.” Tony chirped, earning a glower from the pacing Russian assassin. Ignoring her Tony started talking, pointing at various bits of the holographic map he conjured on the table in front of everyone. “Widow’s sister.... little Widow, is here.” A part of a broken down structure lit up. “There’s nothing there, minimal staff, minimal guards, bare essentials.”

“It’s like they’re just waiting for her to die,” Bucky mumbled, not realizing he’d spoken out loud until Steve thumped him upside the head with a look.

Bucky blushed again. “Sorry, Nat.”

“But it’s true.” Tony plunged ahead. Bucky’s statement seemed to have taken the wind from Nat’s sails and she finally collapsed in the empty chair beside Clint, curling her fingers gratefully around the hand he offered her. “It’s been like this since their last attempt to reverse the damage, they can’t or won’t outright kill her, so they’ve just tucked her away, hoping she’ll blink out on her own.”

“Have they forgotten about her?” Steve wondered.

“HYDRA never forgets.” Bucky growled.

Tony shook his head. “No, but she’s about as far away from their attention as you can get. FRIDAY’s running some scenarios now, it shouldn’t take too long to have an extraction plan. Go get ready, do whatever it is you losers do before shipping out and meet us at the quinjets in 30.”

Bucky needed a shower, his skin still slick from his earlier panic and he all but leapt from his chair, ignoring Steve as the man called his name.

***************************************************************************************************************************************************** The flight was quiet, an undercurrent of tension thick in the air. Bucky fiddled idly with his guns, fighting the mild hint of dread that threatened the seams at the corners of his mind. He was willingly marching into a HYDRA facility, willingly agreeing to help someone as broken, if not more so, than him. His metal arm whirred ceaselessly, his tension and nerves translating into muscle flexes and twitches, his left hand almost spastic in it’s movement. He forced a deep breath, forced himself to calm down. Someone plunked down beside him.

“Doing alright?” Steve asked quietly.

Bucky glanced up, looked quickly away again. The words were on the tip of his tongue, but would go no further.

“You don’t think you’ll be able to help her.” Steve read his brother like an open book.

Bucky held up his palms, one flesh, the other cold metal. “There’s times I can’t even help myself, Steve-”

Steve leaned close, his voice both soft Steve and dominant Captain. “You will help her, just by being there. You’re the only other one here with even an inkling of what she’s gone through. Haven’t you just needed someone to understand?”

Bucky dropped his head, the jerk was right, as usual. Just the thought of someone nearby who comprehended, who shared the same terrors and shadowy flashes at the corners of their sanity would be a comfort; a reassurance that even though Fate had given you the ultimate Fuck You, the vengeful bitch had at least thrown you this meagre bone.

Steve stayed silent, seeing the answer in Bucky’s stare, and leaned back in his chair, closing his eyes.

Far too soon, they arrived.

It was too quiet. Stark’s scanners picked up minimal activity. The building, broken down in places, was hidden in the Siberian tundra until you followed and zeroed in on the sullen traces of life, the sporadic pings of computers, the oh so faint glow of heat through the sophisticated infrared sensors. To all but the most skilled and prepared of trackers, the ones holding the most advanced technologies and armed with a general idea already of where to look, the base was invisible. There was no evidence of movement, of troops coming or going.

It was the end of the line.

The few soldiers abandoned here to guard the silent, frozen error that HYDRA seemed to want to bury and never dig up again put up a surprising fight, having reverted to a Lord of the Flies-like primitiveness; an almost animal instinct to protect their den. Only the computers and technology HYDRA left behind that were all but able to run themselves kept the base from dissolving into chaos; gone was the military order, the regimented watches and checks, left in it’s place was the desperation of desertion. Bucky wondered if the staff here had been left as a sort of punishment, as forsaken by their masters as the girl they were supposed to guard.

It was almost a mercy to end their lives.

The room where Nat’s sister was kept was dark and cold, the only illumination the faint light from the cryotank itself. The computers maintaining her slumber were outdated and rickety, obvious cast-offs from earlier times; the mistake they held not worth newer technology. The men left here, the men now dead in the corridors had not been in this room for months, if the level of grime and icy build-up where any indication.

That’s what they were waiting for, Bucky thought morosely as he scanned the hauntingly familiar machines. He didn’t voice his thoughts, out of respect for a stunned-looking Black Widow, who circled the cryo-tank with faint, uncharacteristic tears in her eyes, gazing in shock at the form inside. They were just waiting for the machines to fail, the computer to blink out, for the girl inside to drift away when there was nothing left to maintain her half-life. Maybe, years from now HYDRA would have returned, observed with callous detachment the men turned animals, now dead, starved and glacial cold after even their desperate diet of each other had dried up; the icy, lifeless body in the cryo-tank, frozen solid, left in eternal sleep. Maybe the fire and flames of their eradication charges as they destroyed any evidence of the horror left here would have finally gifted Nika with some warmth.

The computers balked at first, seemingly unwillingly to surrender the person inside, as if the machines had taken in the humanity the guards had shed and wanted to protect the girl when no one else would. But finally they relented and Nika was released, the team waiting, on the edge of a razor, to see what woke up.

She didn’t.

Seated, heavily shackled, in case she regained consciousness swinging her super-serum enhanced fists, Nika remained silent, unresponsive, no reaction whatsoever to anything or anyone, not even Nat’s voice or hesitant touch.

“Catatonic,” Bruce muttered, sounding resigned. He turned away from her with a sigh. “I was worried about that, she’s completely shut down.”

“Will she wake up?” Nat whispered.

Bruce paused, turning back to regard the cadaverous form. Nika was rigid enough to remain seated, her head level; but her eyes were blank. They’d opened once she’d been fully revived from cryofreeze, but, save for the occasional slow blink, her eyelids curiously out of sync, she gave little additional indication that she was, in fact, conscious or alive. Her breathing was slow and maddeningly shallow, her skin was waxy and pale and even when Tony accidentally on purpose knocked over a locked black case against the wall of the chamber, inciting a cacophony of hollow thuds that made more than one Avenger jump and curse under their breath, she remained motionless, like she hadn’t even heard the crash.

Bucky, standing behind the others, mostly successful at keeping his breathing level, at stopping the gentle ripples of panic from growing to huge, crashing waves through his brain, forced himself to focus on the girl, cataloguing her features in an attempt at distraction. Her hair was darker than Nat’s, a rich auburn, almost mahogany shade. HYDRA could care less about aesthetics so, like Bucky’s had been, hers was dishevelled and tangled, but hinted at gentle curls.

The dead expression notwithstanding, Bucky found himself transfixed by the vibrant violet shade of Nika’s eyes. They matched the almost ethereal paleness of her skin, the almost sharp point of her chin, framed by impossibly long lashes that seemed to weigh her lids down slightly, keeping her eyes only half-open. A sharp pang went through his chest, startling him, as he focussed on her lips; pouty and chapped, and imagined capturing them with his own, feeling their softness and warmth. Shaking his head, anger building at his inappropriate thoughts, Bucky forced his concentration to return to more clinical aspects. Her body was toned and athletic; if she didn’t seem to be spinning her mental gears in neutral, and instead decided to attack, she had the physique and strength to cause damage. She was taller than her sister, and if she’d been trained in the same techniques as Nat, then she would be a force to be reckoned with.

When his game of dominoes failed to illicit a response, Tony grunted irritably. “Let’s go.”

Bruce stepped closer to their silent companion. “Can you stand?”

Tony sighed uneasily when Nika remained inert. “It’s like talking to a wall, just carry her.”

The team fell into an uneasy formation around the doctor as he gingerly scooped Nika into his arms, bridal style. A ridiculous flash of heat shot through Bucky, one he belated recognized as possessiveness and he pushed it away with a sharp breath. What the fuck? Get it together, soldier.

Steve, as if he’d heard Bucky chastise himself, or felt the wave of heat itself, glanced over at his friend, brow raised in question. Cap had been silent so far, observing and analyzing the situation and looked resigned. As he saw it, at best Nika had a long road to recovery ahead of her; at worst, they’d just rescued a vegetable, and either way, his friend, his brother, was hooked.

***************************************************************************************************************************************************** Nat sat beside her sister, speaking quietly, earnestly in Russian to her. Bucky could understand every word, but tried not to listen, only the occasional word breaking through.

‘-told you’d died-’

‘-forgive me, sister, I-’

‘-will help you any-’

‘-please, just say something.’

Nat fell silent, studying Nika’s face. The young woman gave no indication that she was even aware that she was no longer frozen, that she was currently rocketing through the sky in a jet, bound for the other side of the world. Bruce hovered by, monitoring her vitals, making notes and pawing through his supplies for want of distraction, seeming to become more distressed by the minute by his patient’s continued unresponsiveness. He’d hooked her to a monitor and Bucky found his eyes drifted to the screen regularly.

Respiration, ten breaths a minute; heartbeat, thirty-seven; she was either hibernating or amazingly conditioned.

Bruce seemed worried about her low body temperature, and tucked another blanket around the young woman’s shoulders, studying the readout critically. Bucky followed his gaze. Eighty-seven point two degrees, hypothermic, bordering on critical.

“How’s she doing?” Steve called from the cockpit, co-piloting beside Tony.

“Same.” Bruce called back, looking dejected.

Tony muttered something Bucky didn’t catch, but Steve retorted sharply back, so it hadn’t been good.

Clint stood from his seat and moved to stand in front of Nat. He held out his hand and she glanced reluctantly towards Nika before accepting it, allowing Clint to pull her to her feet and draw her back to his seat. Curling onto his lap she tucked her head under his chin with a ragged sigh and closed her eyes.  

Bucky sensed the explosion a split second before it happened.

In the half-second before Nika detonated Bucky saw her jolt, awareness crashing into her eyes. He’d wondered briefly before if she was playing them, feigning insensibility, but he could see now that that simply wasn’t the case. She’d gone from completely gone to completely here in the blink of an eye, her consciousness slamming home and a thousand different sensations assaulting her, overwhelming her. And she reacted the way she’d been trained to, silently and instantly.

In a blur of contortion, she smashed the cable binding her wrists against the one between her ankles and they gave with a ping, then she was on her feet, her movement too fast to follow. Bruce staggered away, blood blooming on his face, half-conscious. Natasha reacted almost as quickly as her sister, but flew backwards with a pained grunt, slamming into Clint and both landing on top of Wanda.

Then she turned to Bucky and he felt a thrill of almost-fear. Is this what his quarry had seen before he’d ended their lives? A cold machine, devoid of emotion; death incarnate? There was no doubt that Nika would tear the jet apart to escape, Nat was still tangled up with Clint and Wanda, all three knocked half-insensible and Bucky could hear Steve scrambling from the cockpit, his shield up, but it was too late. With a chilly lack of expression, Nika zeroed in on Bucky and attacked.

There was only way to stop her, had been the only way to stop the Winter Soldier a time or two, but this knowledge didn’t help ease Bucky’s guilt as he drove his metal elbow into Nika’s temple, sacrificing his body for a rib-breaking punch that stole his breath, made him stagger on weakened feet as she fell bonelessly to the floor of the jet beside him. Her eyes remained half-opened, but the consciousness behind them was gone again, while thick blood began to pool beneath her face, streaming from her nostrils and temple.  

Strong arms grabbed Bucky, almost pulling away at his hiss of pain before settling gently around him. He let them guide him to the nearest bench, where he collapsed with a groan, looking up into Steve’s concerned face.

“Jesus,” he managed.

“Jesus,” Bucky agreed weakly.

With uncharacteristic clumsiness, Nat managed to untangle herself from Clint and Wanda and dropped to her knees beside her unconscious sister.

“I’m sorry, Nat.” Bucky mumbled, wincing at the twinge in his ribs. Steve was cautiously poking at his side and frowning, narrowing down the damage, ignoring Bucky’s muttered curses.

“You had to,” Nat replied almost curtly. “She wasn’t going to stop.” She smoothed Nika’s hair back from her pale forehead, glancing up as Bruce dropped beside her and began to prod carefully at her bleeding skull.

“Damn Buck, how hard did you hit her?” He grumbled as his poking revealed a three-inch gash in her scalp. “Clint, grab me that tray over there and a shit pile of gauze.” Within moments he had Nika’s head almost completely obscured with white bandages and, after feeling at her neck gingerly to check for any breaks, lifted her up onto a free bench.

“He okay?” He asked Steve, motioning with his chin towards Bucky.

“Think so; broken rib, maybe two?”

“Wrap it. And you,” his eyes locked with Bucky’s. “Don’t move too much for awhile, you don’t want a punctured lung. Wanda, come hold this light? I’m going to suture her scalp before she bleeds the hell out.”

“Make sure she’s restrained!” Tony bellowed from the cockpit. “Christ Almighty, don’t let that shitstorm loose again!”

Grimly, Steve stood, retrieving a second set of cuffs as well as a thick chain. Within moments, Nika was again restrained, the cuffs now looped with the chain and secured to the quinjet’s floor.

“I don’t think she’s waking up anytime soon,” Bruce mumbled, almost inaudibly as he continued, pulling the thread methodically through Nika’s bleeding scalp.

And Bruce was right.

Nika lay unconscious for three days, unresponsive, and Bruce was seriously worried, especially because Nika didn’t react in anyway to standard painful-stimuli tests.

“What does that mean?” Steve asked, rubbing his jaw. Bruce had called the entire team down to the medical lab and they stood on the other side of a wall of security glass, looking in on the motionless girl, locked in her own secure treatment room. Nat held Clint’s hand tightly, while Bucky stood in a far corner, arms wrapped around himself, guilt gnawing incessantly at him.

“Normally it means a loss of cerebral function, perhaps even brain death; but this isn’t an average brain. HYDRA’s meddling has created something I’m not sure how to approach, she spent four years conscious under cryofreeze, I know there’s places in her mind she can go that all these sensors and equipment can’t follow.” He gestured vaguely to the science fiction novel assortment of machines and computers the lab was equipped with. More state of the art than the most advanced hospital, filled with technology mere mortals hadn’t even dreamed of yet, Tony’s lab was rivalled only by the most sinister HYDRA bases. “Just because I’m not picking anything up on any of these readouts, and she’s not responding to the most basest animal reflex, pain, doesn’t mean she’s lost, but I’ll be honest, I have no idea how to find her.”

“She’s been conditioned to ignore pain,” Bucky murmured, drawing the group’s attention. They waited for him to continue and he cleared his throat, cheeks warming. “She won’t respond to pain because she’s been trained not to.... she’s probably felt so much that it doesn’t even mean anything anymore, it’s just a miserable fact of existence.”

Bucky didn’t miss the muscle jump in Steve’s jaw, but he looked away before the inevitable sympathy darkened everyone’s eyes. He was stating facts, gained from hard lessons, not looking for pity. Bruce closed his eyes, lips compressed into a thin line, he’d hoped this wasn’t the case, but Bucky, out of everyone, would know.

“So how do we reach her?” Nat asked softly.

How the hell Bucky had become the expert in all this, he didn’t know. “You don’t. You have to wait for her to come back.” He broke off with a sigh, fighting the tremor in his voice as he continued. “I’ll help her anyway I can once she’s awake, but I don’t know what I can really do.”

The group fell silent, eyes dropping to their feet, the floor, anywhere but Bucky or the body behind them.

***************************************************************************************************************************************************** Bucky slumped against the wall, used his forearm to wipe the sweat streaming down his face and panted for breath; beside him Steve was in the same boat. They’d pushed hard today on their run, Bucky trying to quiet his mind and thoughts, Steve not willing to leave him alone.

“Nightmares?” Steve rasped, hands on his knees, head bowed.

“Since we first heard about her.” Bucky grunted, not needing to say who ‘her’ was.

Steve nodded, dropping to a crouch and, after a few beats, raised his head, scanning the surroundings, the outside of the Avengers Tower, before looking again at his friend. “You need to step back? We’ll understand if you can’t be part of this.”

Bucky shook his head. “The nightmares will come whether I’m involved or not.... maybe, when... if she wakes up, helping her work through her shit will help with mine.” He didn’t sound convinced and Steve opened his mouth to reply but the shrill squawking of Bucky’s cell stopped him. With a held breath, he pulled it from his shorts pocket and glanced at the screen then exhaled heavily as he looked away.

Steve was about to ask what it was when his own phone started to go apeshit as well and he scrambled to silence it, half-amused and half-exasperated; sometime this morning someone, probably Sam, had changed his notification tone to an uber-annoying farting sound, but even the ridiculousness of his phone couldn’t penetrate the sombre bubble surrounding Bucky and, as he read the message flashing on his screen, Steve understood why. Two simple words.

She’s awake.

Nika paced restlessly, like a caged animal, from one end of her secure cell to another. She was pure coiled energy, bursting at the seams, her eyes flicking all over, searching restlessly for an escape. Bruce looked up as Bucky and Steve entered, tapping at a tablet in his hands, while Tony, Clint, Wanda, Sam and Nat just watched the girl.

She was almost hypnotizing, the maximum movement for the minimum energy; she looked ready to explode into action, the second she found a chink she would exploit it, be suddenly halfway down the corridor before you even realized that she’d attacked whoever entered her cell, knocked them out and jetted past you like a blur. The two men joined the group, eyes following the pacing form.

Nat pressed the microphone. “Dominika?”

The girl froze instantly, eyes and ears tracking and locating the speaker in a heartbeat. Her gaze now locked on the glass wall, her eyes unnervingly seeming to lock on the group watching her. She remained silent.

“Dominika, it is me, Natasha.” Nat spoke in Russian.

Darkness flickered over Nika’s face but she didn’t reply.

“Nika, please talk to me. It’s your sister.”

“I have no sister.” Her voice was cold, raspy and unused.

Nat flinched but only Bucky understood what she’d said. The others looked at Nat with confused concern, eyes flicking between the two Russians, then to Bucky, eyebrows raised.

“Nat told her who she was and she said she has no sister.” Bucky supplied.

Steve frowned. “So... she doesn’t remember you or-”

Nika suddenly threw herself at the glass, slamming bodily into it and making the collective group of superheroes jump like girls. She’d unnervingly hit exactly in front of Nat, and her eyes seemed to be locked directly on her older sister.

“I have no sister because she is a traitorous snake! She was jealous and sold me into misery and pain!” The venom behind her spat words was palpable, her fists clenched at her sides, chest heaving. Her violet eyes glowed with hatred, like trapped fire. Nat stared in shock and the group again looked to the former Winter Soldier for a translation.

“She uh.... she thinks Nat betrayed her, sold her to the experiment, into pain.”

“No,” Nat’s voice wavered only slightly before she cleared her throat and stood up straight. “No, that’s not true, they told me she died.” She turned towards her sister and hit the button again. “No, sister. They tricked us, they told me you’d died, they showed me your body-”

“LIES!”

The group flinched again as Nika flung herself a second time at the glass, it shook worryingly in its frame, spurring Tony to ask.

“FRIDAY, will the glass hold?”

“Yes Mr. Stark, but she will hurt herself if she continues.”

As if conjured by the AI’s words, blood trickled down Nika’s top lip and her tongue darted out, licking it. She bared her teeth, now dark with her own blood, into a wolf smile and Bucky began to wonder if she was simply, 100% insane.

“You think a group corrupt enough to do this to you would tell you the truth about how they acquired you? They lied to us both, they told me you died! Of course they would say I’d sold you, to turn you against me! You are my sister Dominika, and I loved you! I still do!”

Something flickered in Nika’s eyes. “Prove it. Let me out.”

Bucky tensed, looking to Nat with concern. The group was lost, eyes moving from sister to sister to Bucky like they were following a tennis match.

“She said, that if Nat still loves her, to prove it and let her out.”

“Oh, no!” Tony barked, shaking his head and moving to stand in front of the cell’s control panel. “Buy her a card or something, but you’re not letting that thing out!”

Nat turned tortured eyes to Bucky and he shook his head. This was so far away from Nat’s normal confidence he was becoming worried for the assassin, she would never have considered such a request from anyone else being detained here. “Nat, this isn’t your sister right now. If we let her out, we’re letting out a trained, remorseless killer with an axe to grind.”

Nat nodded, rubbing her forehead. “I know! But she’s my sister and she’s right, I failed her-”

The entire group clamoured then, voices overlapping until Steve stuck two fingers in his mouth and gave a sharp whistle. “No.” The Captain’s voice was firm, undeniable. “You did not fail her, you did not put her there and we are not releasing her in this state.”

Clint leaned down and murmured in Nat’s ear. She shivered slightly, clarity returning to her eyes. “You’re right, I’m sorry. I’m not thinking clearly where she’s concerned.”

Sympathy shadowed Steve’s face, not so long ago it was him, torn between the painful reality of the situation and his memories of Bucky, desperately clinging to the hope that his best friend and brother was still there somewhere, buried deep inside the brainwashed Winter Soldier. He’d been right, but was this the case with Nika too?

Sam made a frustrated sound, gestured towards the glass. “She knows we’re here, why bother hiding? Change it.”

With a sigh Tony reached over and flipped a switch, changing the glass from one-way to see-through. A small smile twitched at Nika’s lips as she ruthlessly and efficiently evaluated the entire group, patted them down for weapons and measured their weight, to the nearest tenth of an ounce. They shifted uncomfortably, feeling vaguely violated as Nika straightened to her full height, crossed her arms over her chest and eyed the group coldly. After a beat she decided to focus on Bucky, and her eyebrow raised in a silent challenge.

“Do you know who I am?” Bucky asked tonelessly.

Nika was silent for so long Bucky began to wonder if she’d even heard him then she replied, her voice sounding so much like his when he said ‘Ready to Comply’ that he couldn’t stop a shiver.

“You are the Asset. You are my mission.”

Nat turned to glance at Bucky and they shared a pained look.

***************************************************************************************************************************************************** “Has she slept yet?” Bucky asked wearily, eyeing the slumped form.

Bruce shook his head.

“How long has she been awake?”

“Seventy-one hours, thirty-four minutes.” Bruce answered instantly, indicating he’d thought of little else recently. He sighed, shifting his weight from foot to foot. “I think she’s afraid.”

Nika sat slumped on the floor, her back to the wall, knees drawn up to her chest. She’d gradually withered from the frightening and raging assassin who’d thrown herself at the glass to this, sluggish and lethargic, winding down like a toy running out of battery. For a short time Bucky had dismissed her refusal to sleep as paranoia, her not trusting her captors to not assail while she was incapacitated, but now he thought differently. The haunted dread in her eyes said she knew all too well what waited for her when she finally closed her eyes.

“She’s afraid to fall asleep and wake up in the dark again, alone and locked in cryofreeze.”

Bruce nodded thoughtfully. “Silence too? She seemed to settle a bit when I started piping some music in.”

“Most likely.” Bucky felt a fresh wave of pity, coupled with new guilt. He’d been so caught up in his own nightmares, his own fresh hell to contemplate this, it was obvious now that he thought of it. Shit, they’d pulled Nika from one hell and plunged her straight into another. He was dragged from his thoughts as he saw Nika slump sideways from the corner of his eye. Finally unconscious and completely exhausted, her body had taken over, shutting her mind down; she lay crumpled in a way that would be next to impossible were she not entirely insensible, and would be in a great deal of pain when she finally woke up.

“I have to move her,” Bucky muttered, moving to the door. Bruce hesitated only briefly before reaching over to the control panel and unlocking it. Cautiously Bucky entered, alert for any movement, any sign that this was some elaborate trick, and in fact Nika was risking a broken neck in this position in order to lure someone close to her. Gently, he nudged her leg with his boot, then harder, but received no response. Taking a deep breath he crouched down and gathered her into his arms, cushioned her against his chest as he stood. She was entirely boneless as Bucky gently lay her onto her bunk, gave no reaction whatsoever when he adjusted her motionless limbs and pulled the thin blanket to cover her then, without even realizing it, Bucky found himself gently stroking her pale cheek with the back of his flesh index finger, pulling away in surprise when he recognized the movement and it’s startling incongruity.

Clearing his throat he turned away and, if Bruce notice the tender touch, he made no comment. Shutting the door behind Bucky, he relocked it at the control panel and moved to stand beside him, gazing into the cell.

“She’s going to need a lot of help,” Bruce murmured. He glanced over at Bucky, “I don’t know if we’ll be enough.”

Bucky chewed at his bottom lip. He’d already contemplated this and was fairly certain of the outcome. “I’ll contact Shuri, see if she can maybe try.”

Bruce sighed, digging his toe into the floor. “That will remove HYDRA’s indoctrination, but it won’t help with the devastation from four years of forced isolation. The mind is a mysterious place Buck, you know as well as any of us; there’s no telling what damage was done; my bet is it’ll be years before we get to the bottom of it, before she’s able to feel completely normal.”

“What’s normal?” Bucky retorted. “You lose your temper and turn green, I’ve got a metal arm and just turned a hundred years old, Thor’s the God of freaking Thunder; none of us are normal.”

Bruce grimaced, “touché.”  

***************************************************************************************************************************************************** Fifty-two hours.

Nika didn’t move, didn’t wake for almost two and a half days. The rest of the compound ground on, most of the team was called out on a mission and reluctantly, Nat joined them. It was no use for her to stay in the tower and pace, waiting for word on her sister’s condition and besides, Bucky was doing enough of that for everyone. Despite himself and his reservations, he was becoming far more invested in Nika’s recovery then was probably safe or smart to.

Bucky was alone in the medical lab when Nika finally began to stir. He’d volunteered to hang around while Bruce ran some errands, probably caught a nap too and had been contemplating which chair looked the comfiest for his own crash when his enhanced hearing picked up the soft sounds of movement from the cell. He froze, struck with a sudden case of nerves. Beyond that thin sheet of reinforced glass was a woman who’s sole purpose had been to track and kill him if he’d become a problem to his handlers, if he’d gone rogue in the field. She’d no doubt been trained and implanted with every morsel of information deemed necessary regarding him, his strengths and weaknesses, his history, ways to bring him down; and the cold way she’d answered him earlier, her voice devoid of emotion, coldly beautiful with it’s Russian tones, ‘you are the Asset. You are my mission.’ didn’t bode well for any type of compromise or harmony between them; perhaps he should stay hidden until Bruce came back-

“Hello? Is somebody out there?” Her voice held none if it’s early menace, no trace of it’s previous calculation. It wavered now, only slightly, but enough for Bucky to pick out. This was the voice of a frightened, disoriented young woman; awakened in a strange room alone, no doubt with a tangle of conflicting memories and thoughts, her brain a confused jumble, like strands of hair twisted together, some snapping under the strain, some coiling into tighter knots, furthering her chaotic state of mind.

“Please?”

It was the please that broke his resolve, the plea for someone, anyone to help and Bucky took a deep breath before stepping in front of the cell.

Nika startled, eye’s red-rimmed, skin pale and stumbled back a step in what was probably a rare show of clumsiness. “Oh,” she gasped. Her eyes darted right and left before resting unwillingly back on him. “Wh.... where am I?” She might not be able to say right now who the man in front of her was, but her instincts were screaming at her that he was danger, the enemy; her tangled thoughts desperately trying to piece everything back together.

“In Washington.” Bucky replied neutrally.

“America?”

“Yes, Washington DC, in the Avengers Tower.”

Another flash of fear shot through her eyes, that side of her that had thrown itself against the glass, smiled with her own blood on her teeth and tore pieces from Nat’s heart was gone; like Bucky, she had two sides, the HYDRA grown killer, and the scared, lost victim beneath. Her exhausted crash must have allowed her real self through, locked her assassin away for now, but what would trigger it’s release again? Until he’d been healed by Shuri, it had taken ten words to bring the Winter Soldier forth, but Nika was a different experiment, and a failed one at that, what would trigger her?

Grasping at straws, Bucky blurted the first thing to come to his mind. “Are you hungry?”

Bewilderment clouded her eyes, in her experience, prisoners weren’t offered food, their needs not something their captors concerned themselves with. Was this a trick? Bucky read her thoughts, his heart breaking just a little bit more; HYDRA had made her suffer just as much as him, if not more.

“No tricks, for real. Are you hungry, do you want something to eat?” It was easier for Bucky to address the physical issues, something he could immediately help, than to even try looking at the rat’s nest that was her mind, her connection to him, what the hell they were going to do with her.

She mumbled, something so low not even Bucky could catch it, not that he would have anyway, with the way his heart was hammering in his chest.

“Sorry?”

“Yes, I am.” Her voice was still low, the undercurrent of fear heavy and Bucky was suddenly struck with the realization of the courage this statement had taken. This woman had just woken up in an unknown place, was faced with the man she’d been trained to simultaneously hate and fear and was locked in a cell, at the mercy of her captors, of the Winter Soldier himself. Yet she was answering him, not shutting down; had Nat’s words managed to infiltrate her damaged mind?

“Sure!” Bucky all but yelped, ridiculously encouraged by her tentative extension of trust. “I mean what, what can I bring you?”

Nika shrugged, her eyes meeting his for the briefest instant, like a dog expecting a beating, wincing away from the upcoming blow but accepting their fate.

His mind raced, he’d only be able to stomach bland, regular food at the beginning, basic dishes. Now was not the time to reheat Sam’s spicy buffalo wings from last night. He found himself grinning, bit his lip to rein it in. “I’ll be right back, okay?”

She nodded slowly, eyes moving to scan the rest of her cell and Bucky stepped closer to the glass, making her step back. He winced at the thought of adding to her fears and softened his voice as much as he could, pointed to the back of her cell. “There’s a button there, on the wall. Hit it and the glass walls around the shower and toilet will go cloudy and give you some privacy.” He craned his head, looking to the secured door of the cell. While Nika’d been out, Nat had brought her a change of clothes, a small bag of toiletries. “Nat left you that, clean clothes and stuff; there’s a towel there too.”

Surprise flashed in her eyes. Again, kindness in any form was a foreign concept. She managed a nod and Bucky turned, all but running from the room to find her something to eat.

The shower was still running when he returned and he set the tray down on the near table to wait, hands twisting nervously. His enhanced vision made it so the glass surrounding the shower wasn’t nearly as cloudy as it would look to the average person and he fought to keep his gaze from drifting that way; but it was a losing battle. His eyes were drawn towards her sinuous form, moving slowly behind the glass. Despite her distress, her confusion, she was nonetheless beauty personified, her every movement the definition of grace. Bucky felt a rush of mortification when his cock stirred to life in his pants, and he turned away with a strangled gasp of mingled shame and desire. Although his body had been slowly waking up since he’d begun to shed the Winter Soldier, he’d yet to act on it with anything more than his own hand. Being intimate with someone was a step he wasn’t sure he’d ever be ready for, to make yourself vulnerable like that, to trust the other so implicitly while you shared something so profound with them; Bucky was sure he’d never be ready for something like that.... until now. Now his body seemed to have other ideas, and it certainly wasn’t the goddamn time.

Nika, although her movements looked like poetry, nonetheless felt clumsy, unwieldy. Her body remembered the basics, how to walk, talk, take care of base needs, and even how to stand under a spray of water nude and scrub itself clean, but her thoughts were running rampant, loose and in whichever damn direction they felt like. She was in America? And more importantly, with her sister? The woman she’d been told had betrayed her? For so long she’d held that ember of hatred tightly in her fist, letting it keep her warm when everything else was so damn cold and black; but had it ever been true? The look on Nat’s face, the broken sound in her voice, was it all the act of a master spy? Or had HYDRA simply played more games, twisted more stories and threads, feeding lies to both sides?

Nika’s mind was still to horrified, too knocked-back-on-it’s-haunches in shock to fully delve into this, but a persistent certainty coiled nonetheless around the very lizard part of her brain, she had been a pawn, a piece of a game, and the man she’d been trained to track and kill was instead looking like a source of help.  

[weekendwarriorblog]

The Weekend Warrior October 2, 2020 – ON THE ROCKS, MANGROVE, SCARE ME, POSSESOR, BOYS IN THE BAND, THE GLORIAS, SAVE YOURSELVES! and More

It’s October, which means we’re finally getting Patty Jenkins’ long-awaited Wonder Woman 1984 after a number of delays from its original June release. Now that it’s finally coming out, maybe we can finally see movie theaters rebound with such an anticipated superhero blockbuster ready to fill those theaters right back up to 100% capacity. What’s that? It’s been moved to Christmas Day? Movie theaters in New York and L.A. are still closed and other movie theaters are only at 25-40% capacity? So we’re not getting Wonder Woman 1984 this week? So what are we working with here… Something like 30 other movies that few people have been chomping on the bit to see? Great… well, then never mind.  We’ll see how far I get through the insane amount of movies being released this week, but I can tell you right now, that it might not be very far.

Possibly the highest profile release this week is the new film from Sofia Coppola, ON THE ROCKS, which is being released theatrically by A24 (where movie theaters are open) before its inevitable Apple TV+ streaming premiere on October 23. I had the opportunity of seeing Coppola’s film as part of my New York Film Festival coverage, where it got a sneak preview last week.

It’s a fantastic film starring Rashida Jones as Laura, a woman who has been married to her husband Dean (Marlon Wayans) for long enough that they have two young daughters, although she’s started to suspect that he’s losing interest in her and maybe sleeping with his assistant. As she gets more paranoid, her lethario art-dealing father (Bill Murray) shows up and tries to help Laura find out the truth about her husband’s fidelity.

Like many, I was a huge fan of Coppola’s earlier films, The Virgin Suicides and Lost in Translation – in fact, interviewing Coppola for the latter was one of my first roundtable experiences ever – and though I liked Marie Antoinette just fine, some of Coppola’s other films in recent years just haven’t connected with me. Maybe it took for her to do a full-on New York City film, as On the Rocks is, for me to return to the film but there’s so much other stuff to like about it.

First of all, it seems like a much more personal film than something like The Beguiling but she also has a fantastically vibrant lead in Jones, who doesn’t often get roles that really shows off her abilities. It’s hard not to think about some of Noah Baumbach’s movies, particularly last year’s Marriage Story, while watching On the Rocks because Coppola uses a similar segmental storytelling format. What sets it apart from just about every other film is Coppola’s ability to acknowledge that the best way to use Bill Murray in your movie is to just let him be Bill Murray and do what he’s going to do. That immediately lends itself to some great moments where father and daughter can go out on the town (and eventually to Mexico!) where Jones essentially acts as the audience for her father’s shenanigans.

But this is very much Jones’ movie even as she’s surrounded by the likes of Jenny Slate as a single mother kvetching about her dating life and Wayans, possibly playing his most serious and dramatic role since Requiem for a Dream.

I really enjoyed On the Rocks more than any of Coppola’s movies maybe going back to Lost in Translation. I think that she does have something to say as a filmmaker in terms of something as personal as this vs. a genre film like The Beguiled, and she does a particularly good job capturing New York City in a way that I really miss right now.

You can also read my more technically-minded review of Coppola’s latest over at Below the Line.

While I haven’t had the time to see as much of the 58th New York Film Festival as I like, I did get to see MANGROVE, the next chapter of Steve McQueen’s “Small Axe Anthology” which also played at the NYFF this past week. In fact, it’s the first chapter of the group of five movies about England’s West Indian community, both chronologically and when it will air on Amazon (November 20). 

This one takes place in 1970, focusing on the Mangrove, a Notting Hill restaurant where the West Indian and black communities regularly congregate, but also, a target for the racist local police who are constantly raiding it and causing misery both for the customers and for the shop owner Frank Crichlow, played by Shaun Parkes. Some of the people who frequent the tiny shop are Black Panther’s Laetitia Wright as (what else?) Black Panther activist Althea Jones, but after a number of police disruptions, the people have had enough and decide to march to protest, which inevitably leads to a conflict with the same police.

Unlike Lovers Rock, which is just over an hour long, Mangrove feels like a real movie with a beginning, middle and end i.e. a simpler three-act structure, but it also runs for over two hours. Honestly, this could have been shown in theaters on its own, and I would have been satisfied, although I’m more than curious how that ties into the other movies.

The first act of the movie is similar to Lovers Rock as you’re allowed to look into this community and how they try to enjoy their lives together but having difficulty doing so due to the violent police raids, much of this part focusing more on Crichlow than the others. The actual protest march is the film’s biggest set piece where a lot of the players come together including the PC Frank Pulley, as played by Sam Spruell. This leads to the third act, which is basically a court trial of about a dozen of the people who frequent the Mangrove, including Crichlow, many of them defending themselves. If there was racism in the way the black people of London are treated by the police, it’s exacerbated when they’re put to trial in a courtroom where the jury only has 2 black members. The judge is so clearly on the side of alleviating the police of any responsibility for what happened that you just get madder and madder as it goes along.

As much as the film is very much Parkes as the lead, the strong support from Wright and the likes of Malachi Kirby as Darcus Howe, who has some amazing courtroom scenes, and Jack Lowden as Ian MacDonald, another one of the barristers. Almost every scene gives McQueen and his crew a chance to show off how well they were able to recreate every aspect of the times, whether it’s the neighborhood or recreating the Old Bailey where the trial takes place. I was just really impressed with everything about the movie from the screenplay, cowritten by McQueen with Alastair Siddons, to the cast and every single performance. All of it comes together so well while telling the very true story of the Mangrove 9 in a way that feels like McQueen doesn’t need to exaggerate anything for the viewer to really feel the injustices in play during that era.

This is an epic film that reminds me a bit of Mike Leigh’s underrated Peterloo last year. Not only did I think Mangrove was better than Lovers Rock, but I also think it’s better than McQueen’s Oscar-winning Best Picture, 12 Years a Slave, so it’s kind of odd that this wasn’t chosen to open the NYFF vs. the far shorter film.

Since it’s October, we might as well start with some scary or semi-scary genre movies, three of which premiered at Sundance earlier this year, at least two in the Midnight Section.

I’ve said before how impressed by the movies that horror streamer Shudder was sharing with its audience and Josh Ruben’s SCARE ME (Shudder), which debuts on Thursday, is no exception. I generally love horror comedies, but this one is more of a comedy horror, mainly being a two-hander as two horror writers hang out in a remote cabin in the middle of winter, trying to scare each other by telling stories. Ruben himself plays Fred Banks, a typical writer/actor/director from Hollywood who really hasn’t written or directed much, but when he meets extremely cynical bestselling horror writer Fanny Addie, as played by Aya Cash (from The Boys), there’s a certain amount of competitive flirtation that you know will lead to a fun movie.

So yeah, I’m not going to say too much about the stories they tell each other or what makes them so riveting and hilarious, but Ruben is not afraid to make things very heightened, whether it’s the performances by the two actors or the use of music or sound FX to really emphasize the horror aspect of the film. It’s hard not to think of something like The Shining or Misery due to the house out in the middle of nowhere, but Ruben also tends to show his horror influences in his script. The movie is working so well as a two-hander before Chris Redd from SNL shows up as the pizza delivery guy Carlo, drugs come out and things start to get even more outrageous and hilarious.

I have to say that I haven’t seen a horror movie this year that I enjoyed quite as much as Scare Me, since it’s so fun even when it starts to get exceedingly more dark in the last act. This is a great deconstruction of the horror genre that manages to create a truly original premise out of a mash-up of horror tropes.

In theaters and drive-ins this Friday and then available digitally next Tuesday, October 6, is Alex Huston Fischer and Eleanor Wilson’s SAVE YOURSELVES! (Bleecker Street), a genre comedy starring John Reynolds and Sunita Mani (GLOW) as a squabbling couple who decided to take a retreat to a cabin in upstate New York to work on their relationship sans any electronics… only to miss the alien invasion that is progressively destroying the rest of the country.

It’s kind of funny seeing this back-to-back with the above Scare Me, because they’re both very funny two-handers, although this one was not quite as funny as I was hoping for, maybe because the main couple are cute, but they’re also quite deliberately clueless. They seem very much like a lot of younger people these days who want to try to better themselves but they’re so addicted to their smartphones, they don’t always realize how bad their behavior looks.

I did like what the filmmakers managed to do with mostly just the two actors and the semi-adorable gas-guzzling furball aliens who show up and terrorize the duo for the second half of the movie. Like with Scare Me, I don’t want to say too much about what happens to them, because that’s more than half the fun of watching the ordeal they end up going through, but it’s a different directorial debut and a great showcase for the talents of Mani (who I’ve seen a few things) and Reynolds (whose work I really didn’t know at all.

Basically, the four of them take a fun concept and do a lot with what is also essentially a two-hander that gets stranger and stranger but never is as outright funny as I was hoping it might be with such a great premise.

Brandon Cronenberg (yes, that Cronenberg) drops his second movie, POSSESSOR UNCUT (NEON), which debuted in the midnight section of Sundance earlier this year. Unfortunately, like the two movies above, it is one where knowing too much might detract from actually enjoying what happens. Essentially, Andrea Riseborough plays Tasya, an assassin who is transplanted into another body via her handler (Jennifer Jason Leigh) but one particular hit, which puts her into the body of Christopher Abbott’s Colin Tate goes horribly wrong.

I think that’s enough of a set-up for a movie that you will probably know immediately whether it will be for you as you watch, particularly after an intensely gory murder which you’ll watch with very little context of what is happening. In fact, you might spend quite a bit of Possessor Uncut unsure of what is going on, and that’s both a plus and a minus towards my overall enjoyment of the movie. Again, I don’t want to give too much away but much of the movie deals with what happens when Tasya is transplanted into the body of a man dealing with his own inner demons (Abbott), leading up to her having to conduct the hit on her target, Tate’s future father-in-law, as played by Sean Bean.

There’s something quite futuristic and other-worldly about all aspects of Possessor Uncut, but Cronenberg handles all the sci-fi elements in the film in such a matter-of-fact way that we never assume this is too far into the future but just watching another version of our own reality. I love Riseborough so much, as she’s easily one of my favorite actors, although I’m a little mixed on Abbott, so mainly seeing him acting like what she might be like controlling his body, it’s a little off-putting to be honest.

What really helps Cronenberg’s bizarre vision more than anything is his second collaboration with his DP Karim Hussain who has grown so much as a cinematographer in the 8 years since Antiviral. Every aspect of the movie’s otherworldliness is enhanced by Hussain’s use of colored filters to keep the viewer off-balance and unsure of what exactly one is watching. But those who are onboard for the type of violence and gore we get early on might be disappointed in how long we have before we get to more of it. In that way, Possessorreminds me of the recent

There’s no denying that Brandon is his father’s son with the type of storytelling he wants to explore, and he brings the same type of auteurish angle to his gore-filled genre filmmaking that is likely to be similarly divisive on who loves and appreciates it vs. those who just won’t get it at all. Either way, Possessor is as daring as it is weird and freaky and your mileage will vary depending on what you’re expecting.

I had never heard of Aaron Starmer’s book SPONTANEOUS (Paramount Pictures), but Brian Duffield, writer of “The Babysitter” movies on Netflix, makes his directorial debut with quite a dark romantic comedy that seems like a great companion to Words on Bathroom Walls from earlier in the year. Katherine Langford from Cursed and Knives Out plays Mara Carlyle, a senior at Covington High School, who is sitting in class one day when one of her classmates explodes, and as others also start exploding, she ends up bonding with Charlie Plummer’s Dylan, as the two young lovers stand together to try to survive.

I generally like coming-of-age and high school movies and I definitely have some favorites, both classics and more recent ones. Let me say right now that this one is VERY dark but also very funny and enjoyable, so it immediately reminds me more of something like Heathers in the fact you’ll just be enjoying some part of the story and then some kid explodes in fully gory glory.  Yeah, it’s something that might be tough for some, because it doesn’t take the typical boy meets girl, lovey-dovey kissy-face movie, although the relationship between Mara and Dylan plays a large part in the movie.

I’ve already been a fan of Plummer’s from some of his previous work, but Langford is really fantastic in this, and this allowed me to see her in a whole new light as much as I thought she played a fine part in Knives Out. It was also great to see unlikely candidates like Rob Huebel and Piper Perabo playing her parents, and I also dug Haley Law as Mara’s best friend Tess.

The movie starts out as one thing but by the second half, it’s turning into something more akin to George Romero’s 1973 The Crazies where all of Covington’s seniors are locked up in a facility being tested with drugs that hopefully will keep them from exploding.  The only real problem is that it does get very dark including one plot point that might lose a lot of those that have enjoyed watching the Senior Class of Whenever spontaneously exploding.

In a week where we have a truly dreadful high school movie about heroin addiction (see below), who would have imagined that a far better movie would be the one where high school kids are randomly blowing up as they frequently do in Spontaneous? This is a pretty fantastic directorial debut by Duffield, a devilishly funny take on an overused genre but one that also stands up with the best of them. Here’s hoping Duffield gets to direct another movie because from this and “The Babysitter” movies, it’s clear he has very distinct voice and style ala Election-era Alexander Payne that would could lead to some great stuff in the future.

Next up, we have one for the boys and one for the girls…sorry. Ladies.

The Ryan Murphy-produced based on Matt Crowley’s 1968 stageplay THE BOYS IN THE BAND hits Netflix on Wednesday. Directed by Joe Mantello, who also directed the recent Broadway revival, it’s an ensemble piece featuring  Jim Parsons, Zachary Quinto and Matt Bomer as three of seven gay friends who congregate the Upper East Side apartment of Michael (Parsons) to celebrate the birthday of Harold (Quinto), his birthday party including a number of surprise guests including Michael’s married college friend Alan (Brian Hutchison) and a stripper known as “Cowboy.”

I’ve never seen the stageplay on which this is based, although I know a lot about it, including the fact that it takes place on a single night all on one set. Mantello’s movie includes the entire cast from the recent 2018 Broadway revival which he also directed, so you just know everyone will be bringing their A-game. While there are some big names from the screen in the cast, there are just as many amazing moments from some of the other characters, including Robin De Jesus’ Emory, Larry (Andrew Rannels), Bernard (Michael Benjamin Washington), Hank (Tuc Watkins), as well as Bomer playing Michael’s good-looking boyfriend Donald.

That obviously well-rehearsed cast brought a lot to my first experience with  Crowley’s beloved play, their hilarious patter and interaction making the first part of the movie so light and entertaining, particularly a campy dance number to the song “Heawave.” But the film also gets quite serious by the second half, and that’s despite taking place over a decade before AIDS reared its ugly head.

Much of that drama arrives at the same time as Michael’s homophobic college friend Alan shows up without ever saying why he needed to talk to Michael so urgently – we definitely can put two and two together but it’s never confirmed out loud. When Harold finally shows up, he acts like a complete asshole to everyone, but it’s quite an amazing and standout performance by Quinto, although he becomes more of a spectator as the night goes on.

But the entire cast is amazing and they’re all given moments to shine. Parsons really blew me away with his performance, and De Jesus is absolutely at first but handles the drama just as well, and I can go on and on about what a tight ensemble producer Murphy brought from stage to screen.

Boys in the Band doesn’t just deal with homophobia in the late ’60s, as it also allows these very different gay men to come to terms with their sexuality, talking about how they first realized they were gay, as well as talking about monogamy and fidelity. It would certainly be interesting to see an updated version of this set in present day, but the 1968 text and context still works just fine.

If you’ve never seen any other iteration of this play, Mantello and his cast have done a pretty fantastic job turning a one-location play into something that’s far more cinematic. I think we can expect Boys in the Band to be included in a number of Emmy categories next year.

If Boys in the Band is too much of a sausage factory for you, then there’s THE GLORIAS (LD Entertainment, Roadside Attractions), hitting digital and Amazon Prime on Wednesday i.e. today. I can’t think of any filmmaker better than Julie Taymor to tell the story of Gloria Steinem, because this is in fact a biopic about the feminist activist, as played by Julianne Moore, Alicia Vikander and two talented young actresses during the earlier scenes.

I have to be honest that I never really knew much about Steinem except for her role in the Women’s Movement and trying to get the Equal Rights Act passed in the ‘70s and her involvement in so many important women’s movements in recent years, including #MeToo. As with much of her work, Taymor takes a very different approach to the classic biopic, switching between as a little girl in the past, her time spent in India seeing women there struggling with equality, to her fierce fight for women’s rights to have autonomy over their own bodies, which includes getting abortions.

I feel like I need to go back to her childhood where her eccentric father Leo (played by a barely recognizable Timothy Hutton) is always taking her family from one place to another to Steinem as a young woman (as played by Vikander) in India. There’s no question that when Moore enters the picture of the older Steinem where it starts to get interesting. She’s also far better than the generally good Vikander, whose accent doesn’t match up with any of the other actors playing Steinem.

I was a little disappointed that we really didn’t get to see very much of Steinem’s relationship with Dorothy Pitman Hughes, as played by Janelle Monae, who basically appears for two scenes and is gone. Fortunately, it gets more into her affinity for Native Americans, particularly Kimberly Guerrero’s Wilma Mankiller.  Other supporting roles of note include Bette Midler as Bella Abzug and Lorraine Toussaint as Flo Kennedy.

It takes a little time to adjust to the jumps in time and not everyone is going to like the rather pretentious decision to have Steinems from different time periods having conversations on a bus together. On the other hand, Taymor’s recreation of the 1977 Womens Conference is quite impressive, and the movie includes a fun fantasy sequence. The movie essentially does what it’s meant to do, which is to instruct and educate about why Steinem’s place in history is so important, and Taymor does a good job shaking off most of the usual biopic tropes, sometimes to success and other times not so much.

Darren Lynn Bousman, director of a bunch of the “Saw” movies including next year’s Spiral, helms DEATH OF ME (Saban Films), a psychological thriller starring Maggie Q and Luke Hemsworth as married couple, Christine and Neil Oliver, who find themselves stranded on a remote island near Thailand where the couple are trapped when a typhoon hits. The couple wake up confused about what happened over the previous 12 hours until they find a video of Neil killing and burying Christine. Hilarity ensues. (No, not really. This is in fact a deadly serious psychological thriller.)

Listen, I love Maggie Q, and I’m so happy to see her in a third movie this year, even if it’s a little strange that this one is set in a similar island paradise as the generally superior Blumhouse’s Fantasy Island from earlier in the year. This one is also similarly high concept, even borrowing a bit from The Hangover (still, not a comedy), except that the premise gets so diluted by vague and esoteric nightmarish scenes used to keep Christine (and the viewer) in a constant state of confusion.

This feels like such a different type of movie for Bousman, maybe because of the environment or the lush look created by that location which informs the film. In some ways, it reminded me of Wes Craven’s The Serpent and the Rainbow, and I usually like this type of mind-fuck type movie, but Death of Me just goes too far down that rabbit hole, and the only answer it gives in terms of what is happening is a fairly lame twist near the end. There’s no question this might have been worse in the hands of a less adept filmmaker, because the movie does look good, but I had a hard time connecting with any of it. You’ll notice that I didn’t have much to say about Luke Hemsworth’s character and that’s because he has so little personality when he mysteriously vanishes midway through the movie, you just don’t miss him at all.

At times, Death of Me comes across like a Southeast Asian Midsommar, and Maggie Q generally gives a terrific performance to help sell the terror her character must endure. Unfortunately, that effort and her talent is wasted, because the movie frequently goes so far overboard it’s impossible to get back once it begins to go too far off the rails.

Going from psychological thriller right into futuristic sci-fi with Seth Lamey’s 2067 (RLJEFilms), starring Kodi Smith-McPhee as Ethan Whyte, a young man living during a time when the earth has been disabled by the lack of oxygen. Ethan works in the mines with his older brother (Ryan Kwanten) but he’s suddenly called upon as the potential savior of earth, as he’s sent 400 years into the future to bring back a cure for earth’s woes.

Where do I even begin with a movie that generally should be something I like, but it takes so long to get even remotely interesting? This one had me vacillating between enjoying what was going on and generally being annoyed by everything. I’m not even sure where to begin except for the central premise of all plant life being dead meaning there’s no oxygen for humans. It’s a decent idea for sure but one that’s quickly lost when you realize that this is going to be another well-intentioned movie that isn’t executed very well.

The entire set-up for the movie doesn’t particularly work, but when Ethan is shot 400 years into the future via something called “The Chronicle,” he’s suddenly on an earth full of lush vegetation and no way of getting back. The movie does get slightly better at that point, because it doesn’t rely on people walking around in gas masks – cause there’s no oxygen, get it? – but Smit-McPhee really struggles to carry this section, frequently leaning on Kwanten once Ethan’s older brother shows up. I just don’t think Smit-McPhee has aged well nor has he improved much as an actor, so making him the lead is already questionable, especially when you put Kwanten into more of a supporting role, and that’s really just the tip of the iceberg for the movie’s problems.

Unfortunately, 2067 is harder to follow than most time travel movies but mainly because it chooses to jump back and forth in time, frequently stealing liberally from Blade Runner’s futuristic noir and other movies.  The writing is pretty bad, and the weak cast does little to elevate it with way too much over-emoting in almost every scene.

Even the score, which would have been great if used to embellish a better movie, tends to overpower everything, essentially used as a crutch to instill emotion for characters that are hard to care about. On top of that, the storytelling is all over the place to the point where few will be focused enough to care.

Sure, there’s some nice production design at work despite substandard VFX, and otherwise, 2067 is mostly bland and highly derivative sci-fi that comes off like a bad low-budget episode of Doctor Who with little of that show’s entertainment value.

Where do I even begin with SNO BABIES (Better Noise Films), a heavy-handed PSA about drug addiction written by Michael Walsh and directed by Bridget Smith that’s available via VOD right now. It stars Katie Kelly as Kristen McCusker, a Princeton-bound high school senior who has turned her first taste of oxy into a full-blown heroin addiction as we see her dragged down a rabbit hole of absolutely every possibly awful thing that could happen to her over the course of two hours, just so that…  well, I won’t spoil what happens.

There are times while watching a movie when you’re not too far into it, and you quickly realize that you’re watching a very bad movie. I certainly didn’t have to go that far into Sno Babies before seeing Kelly’s character being put through so much awfulness that it made my skin crawl more than any sort of torture porn. Whether it’s watching her or her awful friend Hannah (Paula Andino) sticking a hypodermic full of heroin into her tongue or seeing her getting raped at a party because she’s in a heroin-fueled stupor. And that’s just the first 15 minutes of the movie!

Instead of staying focused on Kristen’s journey, which is like a cross between Mean Girls and Requiem for a dream, the filmmakers also introduce a young couple, Matt and Anna (Michael Lombardi, Jane Stiles), who are trying to have a baby, Matt’s sister Mary, Kristen’s mother Clare and her real estate business, as well as a problematic coyote that takes up much of Matt’s time. Yes, this coyote ends up playing as larger and larger role in the plot and how it comes together that even if you think you know where things are going (and are probably partially right), you will be left incredulous by everything that happens over the course of the movie until it’s absolutely ludicrous last act.

So yeah, the writing is not good, the actors are very bad and every aspect of the film is so poorly made and directed, it’s impossible to even appreciate it as what it’s intended – to make a PSA for teenagers to try to keep them off of … heroin.  (Yes, there are lots of other drugs that are far easier to get in the suburbs, but for whatever reason, they decided to go with heroin.) Except that the movie is so bad few teenagers will be able to get past the first 15 minutes, which means it’s a failed effort from jump.

Kelly is certainly put through a lot, including a lot of bad FX make-up, but in many ways, Andino plays a far more interesting character with a better arc, but there’s no way of realizing that until the very end, which just makes the whole thing even more bonkers.

The filmmakers behind Sno Babies must have some sort of sadistic streak to make viewers endure everything various characters are put through, but especially Kristen and Hannah. Listen, I’m never been one to get so mad at a movie that I ever actually yelled at my laptop… until Sno Babies.  Let me just say that it’s a good thing I don’t have direct neighbors because they would start thinking they live next door to a psycho who keeps yelling odd things out of the blue. 

Sno Babies is like an Afterschool Special on heroin, in other words, it’s unwatchable trash. Your brain would have to be on drugs to stick with it through the end. As the worst movie I’ve seen this year, it would be an understatement if I were to say that the people who made this movie should never be allowed to make another movie again.

And then we get to all the movies I wish I could get to but just didn’t have time due to my insanely busy schedule right now. I hope to get to watch some of them later but didn’t want to hold up this week’s column too much.

Lydia Dean Pilcher’s A CALL TO SPY (IFC Films) seems like my kind of movie I might like, a WWII drama about how Churchill started recruiting and training women as spies for his Special Operations Executive (SOE) in order to conduct sabotage and rebuild the resistance. Stana Katic plays Vera Atkins, who recruits two such candidates, Sarah Megan Thomas’ Virginia Hall, an American with a wooden leg, and Radhika Atpe’s Noor Inayat Khan, a Muslim pacifist, as the three women infiltrate Nazi-occupied France. The film is based on true stories, and hopefully I’ll get a chance to see it.

Streaming on Netflix this Friday is Kristen (Cameraperson) Johnson’s new doc DICK JOHNSON IS DEAD, which won a Special Jury Award at Sundance earlier this year. This one is about her 86-year-old stuntman father and how she deals with the fact that he’s eventually going to die, but literally staging all sorts of cinematic ways of killing him. This one I actually did get a chance to watch before finishing the column, and it was pretty tough to watch, mainly since I’m dealing with my own coming to terms that my slightly older mother may not be around for much longer. This is such a strange and only mildly entertaining movie, because it is so personal for Johnson, but I’m kind of shocked by how many people in her life would go along with making such a morbid and macabre film.  This definitely won’t be for everyone, and I’m not quite sure how I’d feel about it if my mother died – my father’s been dead for 11 years, incidentally – but I’m not quite sure to whom this movie would appeal. Either way, it’s on Netflix so you can throw it on if you have nothing else to watch.

Other stuff streaming on Netflix this week includes the kid-friendly horror film Vampires vs the Bronx and the streamer’s latest true crime docuseries American Murder: The Family Next Door.

Another music doc that I’ll have to check out is Herb Alpert Is… (Abramorama), the latest from John Scheinfeld (Chasing Trane: The John Coltrane Documentary), and it will get a live world premiere on Thursday night at 5PM PST/8PM PST featuring a Q&A with Alpert himself via Facebook, Youtube, and Twitter and www.herbalpertis.com.  On Friday, it will be available via Amazon, iTunes and other platforms as well as via DVD… and lots of other formats, including “LP format featuring a coffee table book and a five-piece 180 gram vinyl set.” Wow. I’ve always been interested in Alpert from his amazing career as a musician to his equally fantastic career running A&M Records, which discovered some of the biggest artists over the decades that followed. I can guarantee that I’ll be watching this movie very soon.

Also, Daniel Traub’s Ursula Von Ryingvard: Into her Own from Icarus Films, an innocuous title about a woman of whom I’ve never heard, will open via Virtual Cinema. Apparently, she’s a sculptor, and that doesn’t do much to pique my interest, although the fact it’s only an hour long might mean I watch it soon, as well.

Also wasn’t able to get to Marcus H. Rosenmüller’s The Keeper (Menemsha Films), which will stream on Kino Lorber’s Virtual Cinema.It’s a biopic about Bert Traumann, as played by David Kross, about a German soldier and prisoner of war who becomes Manchester City’s goalkeeper, much to the consternation of the soccer team’s thousands of Jewish fans. It leads up to the team’s victory at the 1956 FA Cup Final that finally gets him fans. I’m also kind of interested in the historic epic The Legend of Tomiris (Well GO USA), which seems to be getting a digital only release, but I honestly haven’t heard peep about the movie’s release other than the fact it’s opening. That’s not good.

Another movie I was hoping to catch but there were JUST TOO MANY DAMN MOVIES! was Brea Grant’s 12 Hour Shift (Magnet Releasing), which stars Angela Bettis, and it’s a 1998 thriller set in an Arkansas hospital where a junkie nurse, her scheming cousin and a group of black market organ-trading criminals get caught up in heist that goes wrong.

To be honest, I really just didn’t have much interest in Adriana Trigiani’s Then Came You (Vertical), which actually received Fathom Events screenings before it’s On Demand/Digital release on Friday. It stars daytime talk show host Kathie Lee Gifford (who wrote the screenplay!) with Craig Ferguson, Gifford playing a widow who is travelling the world with her husband’s ashes before meeting Ferguson’s innkeeper.  Gee, why on earth would Ed be dubious of a movie starring a daytime talk show host and a former late night television host? Gee, I wonder. I didn’t see it. Maybe it’s great, but nothing less than being paid to watch this movie would get me to watch it, so there we are.

Other movies out this week in some form or another include Rising Hawk (Shout! Studios), The Antenna (Dark Star Pictures), Eternal Beauty (Samuel Goldwyn Films), Tar (1091), Do Not Reply (Gravitas Ventures), The Great American Lie (Vertical), Honey Lauren’s Wives of the Skies (Hewes Pictures) on Amazon Prime on Tuesday, The Call (Cinedigm), Chasing the Present (1091), Haroula Rose’s adaptation of Bonnie Jo Campbell’s Once Upon a River, The Devil to Pay (Dark Star Pictures/Uncork’D Entertainment), and something called Alien Addiction (Gravitas Ventures). I’m sure there’s some good stuff in there, and congrats to the filmmaker for finishing a movie and getting it released but… and you may have heard this before… THERE ARE TOO MANY FUCKING MOVIES!!!!

A couple festivals starting this week includes the 43rd Asian American International Film Festival, which runs from October 1 through 11, and it seems to include a pretty impressive line-up of features and shorts, and though I haven’t seen many, the one I’m highly recommending again (as I have when it played other festivals) is the doc Far East Deep South.

Also, American Cinematique’s Beyond Fest starts this Friday at the Mission Tiki Drive-In in Montclair, California, running from October 2 though October 8. It begins with a double feature of the upcoming The Wolf of Snow Hollow (out next week!) paired with The ‘Burbs, then goes into a David Lynch triple feature of Blue Velvet, Mulholland Drive and Lost Highway on Saturday and Saint Maud (a chronically delayed theatrical release) with the classic Misery on Sunday. Monday gets a double feature of new movies in Synchronic and Bad Hair.

Also, the Woodstock Film Festival begins this week, running from Weds. through Sunday, with screenings at the Greenville Drive-In, Overlook Drive-In and Woodstock Drive-In as well as an online component. Highlights include The Father (Opening Night on Thursday, October 1) and the Closing Night film is Chloe Zhao’s Nomadland, starring Frances McDormand on Sunday night. You can get tickets and more information on Eventive.

What it comes down to is that there are just too many fucking movies. I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again. This shit has gotta stop, because there’s no way any single movie can get any attention when so many are being dumped to digital/streaming/VOD/virtual cinema each week.

Next week, more movies not in New York City theaters, which will probably never reopen the way things are going.

By the way, if you read this week’s column and have bothered to read this far down, feel free to drop me some thoughts at Edward dot Douglas at Gmail dot Com or drop me a note or tweet on Twitter. I love hearing from readers … honest!

[jjkookie07]

Always and Forever- Chapter 1

Jungkook x Reader ( Mayze) warlock x vampire AU

genre: Angst x Fluff x Smut

Preview / Chapter 2

March 12th 1830

Namjoon ran through the dark forest holding a precious girl ,wrapped up in a blanket, in his arms. He held her so tight pressed against his chest that Jin was afraid he might break her. The witches came and killed the girl’s mother because of Namjoon. He felt like the tiny girl will hate him forever for that, but he was not afraid of anything, as long as his little girl was safe. He wouldn’t change a thing because in the end he still had the most precious treasure, her, Mayze. His deepest fear was not that he was inadequate for fatherhood. His deepest fear is that he was powerful beyond measure when it came to her and he would do anything to see her happy. It was his light, not his darkness that most frightened him. She was his life and only she got the power to destroy him and so he ask himself if he was able to protect her innocence as long as possible. She was conceived on a red moon night when magic is so strong it could give life to anything a witch desires. And so her mother was able to break into the ancient book that contained all the spells and she ripped only a page that was going to make a vampire able to procreate. She helped him and magic was indeed born nine months later. The child remained in the small village with her mom while Namjoon was watching them protectively from afar, only visiting them once in a while bringing the child gifts from all over the world.

The child lived a quiet life in the small town. She was going to school and was playing with her friends believing that her father was an artist that was traveling across the earth to play music to the most powerful kings and queens. Until she came ,he was a reckless vampire ,thirsty for blood and with an empty heart.

 July 18th 1833

"Jimin-ah come here. The tree is so tall, I can see the entire city from up here" Mayze called for her little brother.

"Dad is going to be mad if you fall from there. Come down here" He called holding his hands around his mouth.

"You are a scaredy cat" She replied back singing the words. Jimin dropped his fists next to his body angry that his sister was going to get them in trouble. He came closer and grabbed a branch proceeding to climb up. When Jimin got closer to her she held her hand out for him to take, helping him next to her. They were the same height even if she was born first. When he was seven he got to meet his older sister. When Namjoon brought her she was so small, afraid and different. Her hazel eyes, her blonde hair, her white skin, it startled him at first but then all he wanted to do was protect her.

"You know it's unladylike like to do such boyish acts" They were both startled by Namjoon's voice as he was resting his back against the tree. "Seokjin made lunch. You better hurry if you like a hot meal" He then disappeared into the house.

"Can I sleep with you?" She stood by Namjoon’s bed waking him up by shaking his body with her small hand. He stirred in his sleep, his eyes shooting open finally setting them on the figure of his daughter that was clenching his shirt. "Sure baby" He moved closer to Seokjin and placed his arms on her waist raising her body on the air before gently placing her on the bed, under the covers. "I dreamed of the bad guys again" She whispered and nuzzled her head against Namjoon's chest. His arms were wrapped protectively around her small, frail body. "Don't worry princess they are long gone" Seokjin said, starling both Namjoon and Mayze. Ten seconds later little Jimin opened the door and walked towards the bed." I want to sleep here too" He whispered rubbing his eyes. "In the middle. The kids in the middle" Said Seokjin making Jimin crawl on top of Namjoon and then next to Seokjin. He grabbed his sister's hand and kissed it. " Don't worry. I will protect you. Hearing his words the two parents smiled as their hearts were filled with love and adoration for the bond that formed between the two little souls.

 August 20th 1834

"How did you meet Jin-appa" Jimin asked curiosity playing in his eyes as he was holding Namjoon's finger and walking back home. He took the little male on a walk through the woods in search of wild fruits.

"I met him before you were born. It was a really really cold night and I was returning from an expedition in the far lands of England. He was in front of a house on fire holding you in his arms. He was so burnt but he still refused to put the baby you down." Namjoon stopped and squatted in front of Jimin. His big arms were holding the little male's elbows. "I approached your father but he was so scared that he wouldn't let me help him. He was dying, I could see his life floating away through his eyes but he was fighting for you. I gave him to drink my blood and I took you both to my house." Namjoon wiped the tears that were running down Jimin's chubby cheeks and pulled his little body in his arms, against his chest, slowly patting his back. "How was my mommy?" The question startled Namjoon that was watching in distance with widened eyes. "That's a story that papa is going to tell you okay?" He stood up still holding Jimin and sprinted home.

"I love you Namjoon-appa"

"I love you too little man"

March 10th 1835

"Happy birthday to you! Happy Birthday to you!" Namjoon and Seokjin sang as the kids were waiting patiently in front of the baked pink and blue cakes that Seokjin kindly offered to make. It was their 10th and 12th  spring. The flowers were bloomed and the bees already invaded the big garden that was extended on 3 yards of land. This wasn't the day they were born but the day they choose to celebrate another chapter in the book filled with their memories from the year that passed. Spring suited them so well. The nature was coming back to life, fighting the horrors of the winter. It was a reminder that no matter how much evil is in this world there was still light and nothing can harm you as long as you have family. Always and forever. It was a promise they made and they were going to fulfill.

Jimin gave Mayze a small box wrapped in a silk hand-chief. Inside was a doll with red hair made of cloth. "Daddy helped me sew it because I am not allowed with sharp objects" Mayze took the doll and hugged it close to her chest. It was a very precious toy that she was going to keep forever.

"I have something for you too" She handed him a wooden box that she could barely hold. He opened it and took out from there a horse and 3 soldiers made of clay. She carefully spend the past month trying to make them look as realistic as possible. She even painted them brown,red and black. "I love them. This is amazing" He started jumping up and down next to the table. This was a night they were not going to forget.

March 10th 2009

He lit the incense and candles and placed them on his altar. Passed the sachet through the incense smoke and put it on one side, next to the body. The brunt scent invaded the room and it was making breathing difficult.

Jungkook dipped the knife in the blood then sliced the heart right in the middle. The blood dripping from the heart was mixing with the one in his bowl. He dipped the tip of his fingers in the bowl and wiped them in strange shapes along the man's body while repeating " Three times three, Now set me free.Free me from my dark despair. Uncross! Uncross! I break this curse. But let not my simple spell reverse I wish no ill, nor wish him pain I wish only to be free again." The man opened his eyes and stood up from the table. Jungkook just performed an exorcism spell on the mayor of the city freeing him from the dark demon that was controlling his body, making him kill almost half of the city.

"You've got really great powers there little boy." The mother said to her 12 years old son. Jungkook smiled and took a towel to clean the mess from his hands. "I want to be the greatest warlock that ever lived on Earth." He confessed his goal to the women.

"And you will be my dear."

 September 2nd 2010

As he was walking back from the woods with his backpack full of plants and rocks he felt like he was followed. He turned around but none was there. Jungkook stopped and let out a piercing scream, releasing a great power that sent the vampire that was behind him flying away, impaling him on a branch. There was nothing that was scaring him ,the vampires always came but not even one got the privilege to touch him. He arrived home but the door was ripped off. He threw his backpack and ran inside. The scene in front of him was going to mark him for the eternity. Three wolves pulling his mother apart. Instead of crying like a normal child at his age would, he raised his arms above his back and closed his eyes whispering "Ventum veni, da mihi potestatem. Perdere omnia." A strong wind formed, flying the wolves away in their human form with deep cuts across their bodies. Jungkook walked closer to her and caressed her bloody face that was unrecognizable . His mother was holding tightly in her palm a bracelet that he took and placed it in his pocket. He needed to consecrate her so her power will go to the ancestors. A little boy was arranging the funeral of his mother.

May 14th 2016

Namjoon looked at Mayze with cold eyes. His fist was clenching tighter and tighter seeing the rebellious attitude of his daughter. She looked at him still trying to look confident despite the fear that was sending chills down her spine. She loved him but now she was wondering if he loved her. Her own father trapped her into a marriage she did not want. Hoseok was a real gentleman and he loved her despite being rejected several times. He could wait for her because true love can't rush in, and her was someone Hoseok wanted to hold forever.

"Why are you looking at me like that, father?" She asked leaning more comfortable in the big chair across the fireplace.

"You are disrespecting your husband." Namjoon motioned towards Hoseeok that was busy putting more wood on the fire. The smell of brunt wood was invading the big open living-room.

"And you are disrespecting me" She fired back. "I would not be able to look at him and not remember that it was your choice. You could have at least compelled me" She was talking calmly trying to hit the nail and make her father angry.

Seeing that her father wasn’t going to reply to her,suddenly she stood up, turned around and walked out the door. Hoseok  stood up as well and followed her out the doors.

"Don't follow me!" She yelled hearing his steps close behind.

"Hey! Give me a second. Please, let me tell you how I feel" He grabbed her elbow to stop her ,turning her around to face him. His hands were placed securely on her lower back forcing her to stay pressed against his chest.

"Talk..." She shuttered unable to look at him in the eyes.

"I don't want to hurt you okay? I just want you to understand that I really want to have a family with you. I was also left heartbroken by someone. I had her in my mind for centuries and then I saw you. You took my breath away. I have never seen someone so beautiful. Your eyes hide such sadness that I want to erase and replace it with joy. I want your cheeks to hurt from smiling. The witch made the bond marriage but it's us that will make this least forever. "

Evil is always possible. And goodness is eternally difficult. The world changes but we are not. We just try to keep up with it, to survive to get used to every new thing. How long does that take? What if the world changes everyday? We get trapped in the new universe and in our run to accumulate information, we lose ourselves. We should just pick up from the world what suits us. So we don't have to change everyday. She saw kings raise and fall, she saw people have power then being consumed by it. Now she was wondering if all this is worth it without love? Is it worth living an eternity playing pretend with someone your father decided to bond you with? She was torn between being the perfect daughter and having what she always craved for, love, love, love. She had so much love to give and it was making new cracks on her heart everyday. What if she could love Hoseok? But what if she couldn't?

June 17th 2017

"Kookie" Taehyung called the younger male that was slowly walking on the side of the road. "I need more daylight rings" He said and grabbed Jungkook's shoulders to stop him.

"How many?" Jungkook asked slowly raising and eyebrow, intrigued by the older male's request.

"About 50 or more." Taehyung saw the shock on Jungkook face and felt the need to explain. "I need an army.I need power to control the city."

"Do you realize how many stones you need? " Jungkook pushed past Taehyung and started walking towards the city.

"I do and I have them. And as for power you can chanel someone really powerful." Taehyung said appearing again in front of Jungkook.

"Like whom?"

"Namjoon"

Hearing the name, a smile creeped its way on Jungkook's face. "I actually wanted to go and make an alliance with him. We have a deal."

"I will send someone to bring you the money and the stones" Taehyung called after his friend that was moving further and further away, towards New Orleans"

July 28th 2017

"We have a dinner tonight" announced Seokjin earning the attention of everyone in the room. "We always have dinner like at night, that's when we eat dinner." Hoseok replied making Mayze laugh.

"Well we have a more special dinner. There is a new warlock in town and we'd like to keep him on our side." Namjoon completed what Seokjin just said.

"Is it safe to bring Hana?" Jimin asked being concerned about his daughter's safety.

"I can stay at home with her. I am not in mood for family quality time" Yoongi offered. Him and Namjoon never really got along. Maybe it was because all he cared about was Hana and Jimin and Namjoon was always a control freak. He remembered well how he laughed when they expressed their desire to adopt a human child. He was against it at the beginning but seeing how bubbly and adorable Hana was he gave in the role of grandfather, always spoiling the little girl with everything she desires and her parents were not going to give it to her.

"Okay so it's set. We will actually need to cook. He is human." Seokjin walked happily towards the kitchen followed by Mayze and Jimin. “ Actually he is a witch that eats human food” said Jimin. “You make it sound like <he is a cat that eats dog food>” Mayze mocked Jimin, earning a slap on the arm with a spatula. “ Seokjin! Jimin is hitting me with your new spatula” Mayze called for her father in a fake crying voice.

As they were waiting for their guest the large dinning room was filled with a calm melody from the grand piano placed in the corner of the room. The whole house was decorated in rococo style. Every piece of furniture being white and gold. Everything was spotless no dust no blood spots on the floor from the natural lunch Namjoon delighted himself with. Suddenly the three meters doors were opened against the wall and a black shadow made its way inside. The stranger took off his hood and smiled at  everyone that was eyeing him from head to toe. 

“I was born on the night of Samhain, with both dark and white magic inside me. I am the new warlock in the quarter and I may be your ally and your friend in the darkest hour and offer you my powers to protect your loved ones” Jungkook said walking closer towards the table.

[shoes-and-seoks]

My (what was supposed to be an itty bitty) YoonSeok rec~! Was only gonna be short, but go hard or go home I guess... Advance warning, there’ll probably be a few angsty ones here, but they’re amazing nonetheless! Also there’s pretty much (read; definitely) gonna be a part two to this, there’s just so many amazing works out there!

Slow Motion (See Me Let Go) by thedirtunderyourskin ‘Yoongi is content to drink, smoke and fuck his life away with Hoseok until Hoseok tells him that he has a girlfriend now and doesn't want to see him any more, leaving Yoongi floating like a ghost from bed to bed trying to find someone to hold onto. Because the thing about Hoseok is that even though Yoongi knew he was destroying him; even though he knew they could never be anything more to each other than a warm body, he never really wanted to let go.’ Rating - NC-17 Words Count -  15574 -I legit have days where I’ll be busy working or taking my dog for a walk then BAMM I get memories of this darn fic and the feels just steamroll over me, like srsly. I’m a sucker for angst, and if you are too then buckle up and get this masterpiece read! warning for some dark themes and not so happy endings

Let’s Try and Try Again by forjimin 

‘Hoseok and Yoongi are childhood friends turned fuck-buddies. It should be simple, except everything between them becomes all the more complicated.’ Rating - NC-17 Word Count - 102118 -Very long but very much worth it. I don’t usually read many chaptered fics, especially ongoing(this one’s finished, but I was reading it fairly early on....) but DAMN diddly is this a beauty! warning again for angst and some sensitive topics please read the tags on it

Been Tryin' Hard Not To Get Into Trouble But I Got War On My Mind by teenuviel1227 

‘Ace agent Min Yoongi is sent to go undercover and infiltrate backstreet racer-cum-heist-leader Jung Hoseok (code name: JHope)’s group of misfits, figure out their big plan, and bring them in. He’s counting on his info, his car skills, and his wits, but what he doesn’t count on is that the gang is loveable and Hoseok’s smile rivals any high he’s ever gotten from being on the job. Somewhere along the line, Min Yoongi finds himself having to choose between love and duty, his job and the open road.’ Rating - NC-17 Word Count - 56778  -Another decently long one, but YoonSeok racer/hacker AU? Sign me darn diddly UP

Bloody paws in the snow by pandorasumbrella

‘["You're mine now." "I'll never love you."]‘ Rating - NC-17 Word Count - 94792 -This is an entire series! Honestly don’t feel intimidated by the sheer length, this is the wolftan/omegaverse we knew we wanted...warnings for angst and other details that can be found in the tags

the things we believe in (and how it all breaks in the end) by small_things (lost_things)

‘He could stay like this; get drunk off the taste of Yoongi’s skin and stay lost in the feeling of his kisses. He could stay like this, but there was always something telling him that this was wrong, that his true soulmate was waiting for him somewhere. (Yoongi hates the system that Hoseok believes in)’ Rating - Mature Word Count - 1849 -Soulmate AU; because I’m a sucker for those too. A short yet sweet fic, please give it a read, I enjoyed it very much

All I ever wanted (Was a part of you that I couldn't break) by  inkingbrushes 

Yoongi is a tormented art major who paints either terror, despair, or ecstasy and Hoseok is a photography student who thinks the world stops whenever Yoongi laughs. They go on a second first-date and it’s not so bad given their history.  Rating - T Word Count - 14577 -Cute, dramatic, YoonSeok...what more could you want?? Also one of the first YoonSeok fics I ever read...

Fate is a Funny Thing by infinitizeit

Well said Jimin. Rating - T Word Count - 2257 -Another soulmate AU...what can I say. Too cute.

Mint Yoongi  by imasinner

AU where Min Yoongi is a model from Big Hit Agency and Jung Hoseok is a professional hair stylist. Yoongi hates bleaching his hair, and Hoseok massages Yoongi's head for longer than is probably necessary. Hoseok might be a little too gay to deal with a stunning male model.  Rating - T Word Count - 5303 -Pure fluff and loveliness, you won’t be disappointed!

All my days (I'll know your face)  by inkingbrushes

Something about Yoongi has Hoseok feeling like he’s fine, like he’s going to be okay. It might be nostalgia. Or it might be that he just feels at home with Yoongi. (Or, the one where Hoseok proposes in public and Yoongi blurts out, are you out of your fucking mind?)

Rating - NC-17 Word Count - 45108 -Another by inkingbrushes...can you blame me tho. TBH I should just recommend anything by this gem of an author. Though this is one you should definitely read!

color ring  by jisoos hoseok swears he’s going to strangle his soulmate the second he meets him because are you serious? mint green? who the hell dyes their hair mint green? au where your hair changes color whenever your soulmate changes theirs. Rating - T Word Count - 1178 -Short yet memorable. A sweet soulmate AU~

Your cape is kinda dope (but so are you) by SherryMyano Yoongi is a twenty something college boy who shares a flat with a certain Jung Hoseok . They are best friends with secrets. Capes and maybe even punches fly around. or, AU where Yoongi is a villain , Hoseok is a super hero and they both fight each other on a daily basis yet they are roommates who don't know about the other's secret side. Excuses, excuses and confessions? Maybe. Rating - GA Word Count - 3132 -Superhero YoonSeok?? Say no more friend.

up in the air by ofmindelans Hoseok/Yoongi on an airplane: "You fell asleep and i started making funny faces at your kid to keep them amused and the steward mistook us for a couple" Rating - GA Word Count - 1120 -I’m on a roll with the fluffy ‘uns! 

seongshil by shikae (39smooth) Yoongi's always liked taking risks, anyway. Rating - NC-17 Word Count - 3933 -*fans self* Well then...a Yoonji fic before Yoonji ever existed? Nice.

Think Tidy by nivo Hoseok wins the roommate lottery. Rating - GA Word Count - 2146 -Everything about this fic is worth it.

you’re lit and i’m on fire (it’s a match!) by sheepishfiction Hoseok's hot Tinder date may or may not actually just be high-key trying to promote some angry poetry reading at the campus pub. Rating - Mature Word Count - 4237 -I defo have a thing for college fuckboy!Hoseok. And Yoonseok on Tinder?? Why not!

ETA: 7:35AM EST by imasinner "I made a horrible impression in the airport and thought I’d never have to see you again, but I just found out you’re in the seat next to me for the entire flight” AU. Rating - GA Word Count - 4717 -Fluff is good for the soul. Fact.

seize my careless heart by willinglywastingmytime yoongi honestly just wanted some company. he just doesn't understand the implications of texting his boyfriend 'my parents are out of town, wanna come over?' hoseok is happy to teach him. Rating - NC-17 Word Count - 6583 -You know what is also good for the soul? Smut.

Imprint by sixtieshairdo That’s his favourite thing about Hoseok; he could make him laugh, anytime, anywhere. The problem is, whenever Hoseok makes him laugh in bed now, he feels something stirring inside of him. He feels warmth seeping from Hoseok’s muffled giggles against his chest, into his skin, burrowing incessantly through his veins, embedding into a part of his soul. Stroking Hoseok’s soft hair off his forehead, he finds himself wondering if Hoseok had been in love with him back then, but he quickly brushed the thought away, as sleepy eyes open to blink at him slowly. Long limbs still warm from slumber wrap around him and he sighs into the kiss, letting his thigh slip in between Hoseok’s parted knees, and wills himself to hold still, hang on, don’t fall. Rating - Mature Word Count - 3036 -You know what’s good for my soul? ANGST. But with a nice ending of course :)

Poison by gwangju_bby “I don’t mind that my roommate’s boyfriend stays over constantly; I mind that he walks around our apartment basically naked as if he owns the place.” AU Rating - NC-17 Word Count - 12579 -This one’s gonna hurt for everyone involved...warnings for cheating, take heed.

a procession of seasons by shikae (39smooth) Highschool!AU. January and February come cold and burring, but Yoongi only knows the de novo warmth of March. Rating - NC-17 Word Count - 21492 -A YoonSeok heavyweight, and there’s a bloody good reason for that! I’m a big fan of abstract fiction, and it’s not something you come across as much in fanfiction unfortunately.

Worship by hakho They had caught each others' eyes from across the ballroom for a mere moment, no more than a few seconds, but it had felt like a lifetime had passed between them. Rating - NC-17 Word Count - 2060 -My only beef with this one is how short it is! A Great Gatsby!YoonSeok AU, very remeniscient of the book

Hyacinths by boatbeforeabridge Hoseok works at a flower shop suspended by quantum levitation, high amongst blue skies and drifting clouds. Yoongi is part of an insurgent cell, fighting for the last, the lost, and the least. They meet. A Bioshock AU. Rating - Mature Word Count - 26585 -One word. BIOSHOCK. I could cry at how beautiful this fic is. You don’t have to have played Bioshock Infinite to get what’s going on, but if you like videogames and haven’t played it, then there’s another rec within a rec for you!

Break by sixtieshairdo Hoseok leaves, he always (always) leaves, and Yoongi’s hands are soon colder than the winter outside his studio. Day breaks, and he is already broken. Rating - Mature Word Count - 940 -Angst. I love it. Warning for cheating and sad endings...

there are no secrets (there's no one here) by sirradel “We’re about to be released into the biggest wildlife reserve in Daegu for three weeks to find our bondmates,” Yoongi said. He attempted to scoot forward, only for his naked skin to stick to the leather he was sitting on and prevent any movement without a light burning sensation. Taehyung snickered at him under his breath, and Yoongi pretended not to notice. He was too nervous to muster up the energy to glare. “It’s my second run. We’ll see how it goes.” Rating - Mature Word Count - 20060 -An A/B/O fic, just in case that ain’t your thing, I know it’s definitely mine.

we write sins (not tragedies) by tteokie Rival Erotica writers Yoongi and Hoseok. 50% crack, 50% porn. Rating - NC-17 Word Count - 8285 -Don’t think I’ve actually expressed how much I love crackfics, and this one does it so well. You won’t be disappointed.

Mind Reader by interrupted It's hard to focus in class when you're in love with your best friend. (Person A of your OTP is having dirty thoughts about Person B. In paranoia, Person A thinks, in their head, “If you can read my mind, please cough.”) Rating - T Word Count - 1600 -Dorky Hoseok is good Hoseok, and this is a good fluffy fic.

keep the motion moving by gbyesummer (shouldshy) Hoseok doesn't want to be rude, but he's not a fan of presenting his left hand to people. And if the guy saw the tattoo on the back of his left hand—the four letter word followed by a question mark—then Hoseok knows exactly what he's trying to do. (soulmate au, where the first words your soulmate will say to you when you meet them are tattooed somewhere on your body) Rating - T Word Count - 2120 -Soulmate AU (again...). I will never get over them tho. 

You're Not Allowed to Mope by turtledawn Hoseok and Yoongi had been friends for two years now, after Namjoon introduced them. And for two years, Yoongi has been hopelessly crushing on Hoseok, his best friend. Unfortunately, a year ago Hoseok got a girlfriend, and Hoseok liked to ask Yoongi for advice. Rating - Mature Word Count - 17094 -Angst again...I’m not even gonna apologise, this is gr8.

one nocturnal son of a gun by deuxoiseaux

i know i'm young, but if i had to choose [him] or the sun / i'd be one nocturnal son of a gun

(a series of non-linear snapshot domestic au drabbles. gonna be heavy on fluff and porn. i'd apologize, but i'm not that sorry.)

Rating - NC-17

Word Count - 148486 -Yet another heavyweight in the YoonSeok category. What I love about this fic though is that even though it’s ma-HOO-sive, you can read it at your own pace. Just domestic YoonSeok at it’s greatest. I also have to sing the song every time I see the title...

Dirty Omega by MochiAmi Yoongi goes into heat at the coffee shop and is approached by a nasty alpha. He calls Hoseok to help him. Rating - NC-17 Word Count - 3340  -An omegaverse YoonSeok that’ll tick all of your omega!Yoongi boxes

often a sweetness by deuxoiseaux the "you need a plus-one for your sister's wedding so i'm going as a favor but there's been a misunderstanding and now your whole family thinks we're dating" au Rating - NC-17 Word Count - 73364 -I know I put off reading this one for a long time but BOY WAS i WRONG this is a gem of a fic and deserves lots of attention!

Hivemind by popliar (littlerhymes) It's said that in the early days, back when the technology wasn't as good, the soulbond implants used to fry people's brains by accident.They all sign anyway. (Or BTS as artificially soulbonded idols AU) Rating - T Word Count - 13475 -Such an interesting and well put-together fic, please give it some love!!

come on starboy, we can shine together by bulletsfrank yoongi works at a library, keeping to himself basically his entire life. hoseok wants to skip the friendship stage because he swears he saw yoongi in his dreams, collecting stars and putting them in a jar. there's one little thing, though: yoongi can't speak. Rating - T Word Count - 17552 -More fluff!! Another beautifully written fic as well, deffo a stand out one!

Suga by HesterAntoniaDracolas “How can you not believe in soulmates!” Jin exclaimed, dropping the spatula in shock. “I just don’t,” Yoongi muttered, really not wanting to get into it right at that moment. “It’s because his soul words are and I quote ‘I’m bisexual, but I’m 100% straight for you darling,’” “Namjoon!” ~Alternatively 'the course of true love never did run smooth' and in Yoongi and Hoseok's case it might just take locking them in a small room together to pull everything back together. Rating - Not Rated Word Count - 8645 -Soulmate AUs are good, but there’s just something super special about the ‘first words’ ones, and especially when those first words are something ridiculous~

Glitch (not the end of the world) by popliar (littlerhymes) Yoongi's first clue that there's been another glitch in the multiverse is when he wakes up to the sound of Hoseok screaming. (Hoseok is replaced by a version from an alternate timeline.) Rating - GA Word Count - 3399 - I’m just a sucker for interesting fics, and dystopian style SOULMATE AU?? Consider it read!!