#Holds back on very long discussion of what I think the sun rejection might be if you want to read it as. No. Wait.

[starryeyed-seer]

Also!!!! I'd never seem this before but BAZAAR THOUGHTS.... aaaaaaaa

It sounds so tired. Sick of being a Courier. Wants a home.

he's lonely :(

I mean yeah. We been knew but. Poor sad crab

the bazaar.... (<- I think this often). Curled up under the blankets shivering... If you're cold they're cold: steal a city

I think this is the only mention of the sun being "cruel, furious, rejecting" about whatever the Bazaar's line-crossing was. I've long thought it was a confession of Love— naming feelings that can never be true, asking the sun for more than it can give. reciprocation.

the bazaar likes breaking into people's basements to steal their snacks: confirmed.

[atths--twice]

It takes some time to come back to yourself after you’ve been hurt. Dana is beginning her journey down that path and Fox is there to make sure it’s a safe one.

I know it’s been sooooo long since there was an update to this story. I’ve had other things asking to be written, quite persistently in some cases. But, my focus is back here and here is the next chapter in the story. The next chapter should be up soon as well.

Thank you to everyone who has shown an interest in this little AU. ❤️

Chapter Three

Fox was up very early the next morning, despite having slept very little, his thoughts on Dana and how she was really doing, knowing how men like Tom usually took rejection. He decided to go for a run, something he had not done in a while, thinking it would help to clear his head and create focus for the day.

The sun was just peeking through the sky when he stepped outside, stretching and warming up his muscles before he set off at a slow pace, gradually running faster.

He could hear nothing but the sound of his shoes as they created a steady beat along the pavement. Not many other people were out yet, and for that he was thankful. He liked being out before the city was awake, enjoying the quiet and lack of bodies filling the spaces.

He ran for what felt like miles. When he stopped and paced back and forth, breathing hard, his thoughts again turned to Dana and he shook his head.

She would have told him if Tom was threatening or scaring her, right? She would have said… something to him.

Right?

“Before,” he said, taking a deep breath. “She would have said something before.” Shaking his head again, he turned and began to run back home.

_________________

“I got you a coffee,” he said when he heard the door unlock and open, his back to it as he took some prop books down from the top shelf. “You’ll need to warm it up though I’m afraid. I’ve been here for a while.”

“We must have been thinking along the same lines then because I actually got you a coffee,” she said and he turned to look at her. She was holding a small brown bag over her wrist and a cup of coffee in each hand.

“Great minds, huh?” he teased, setting the books on his desk and walking towards her. “Thank you.”

“And thank you,” she said softly, handing him his coffee as she bit her lower lip. “I also got you a ham and cheese croissant. It might even still be warm.”

“Thank you again.”

“Did you already eat?” she asked, spying the paper plate by his computer.

“I did. But like I said, I’ve been here for a while so… a second breakfast is much appreciated.”

“Okay, Pippin,” she said, a smile beginning at her reference to Lord of the Rings, but then it stopped. “I’ll… set this down and then start readying the studio.”

“There’s no rush. We’ve got time. Eat your breakfast. Drink your coffee,” he said, watching her and trying to gauge how she was feeling.

“You already got the studio ready, didn’t you?” she asked, setting down her coffee and the bag of food on her desk.

“Yeeeah. And the items I’ll need for the next two sessions ready as well,” he said, taking a sip of his coffee and humming at the perfect taste.

“Two? Jesus, you have been here a long time.”

“One of the drawbacks of having occasional insomnia,” he said, smiling before taking another sip.

“I don’t really like the word insomnia. It sounds so menacing or something. I think describing sleepless nights as being a “tortured artist” sounds much better. As though sleep simply can’t happen when there’s beauty to be found. I just think there’s something romantic in those words.”

“I suppose unless you’re not an artist. Or if you’re Van Gogh and you end up actually torturing yourself.”

“Well, yeah. The line has to be drawn somewhere and I draw mine at self mutilation,” she quipped, taking off her hat and coat and rolling her eyes at him.

“It’s always good to know where the line is,” he said with a smile, watching her hang up her coat and run her fingers through her long hair.

She seemed more like herself today, sparring with him like she used to do. She looked like herself too, though she still wore the large black cardigan over her pleated, long sleeved, dark gray tunic dress, black leggings, and black fleece lined boots.

Twisting her hair expertly, she quickly had it up in a messy but somehow adorable bun, secured in place with a rubber band.

As she turned around, she caught him staring and they both froze. He was at a loss for words, not wanting to explain his thoughts to her, but she spoke first and he felt relieved.

“I… I can’t wear my hat with my hair in a bun,” she explained with a shrug. “I mean I can, it just looks and also feels funny. So…”

“Understandable,” he said, clearing his throat. “Sorry for… I didn’t mean to be staring… I was thinking about-”

“Your second breakfast?” she suggested as she pointed to the bag and he laughed, glad for the out she had given him.

“Yeah,” he said, stepping to the bag to take out his food. “Still warm.” He nodded and she nodded back.

As he stepped back from her desk and she stepped toward it, the scent of her perfume hit his nose and he quickly took in another breath.

Whimsy.

That was the name Dana had told a client weeks ago when she had asked after it, exclaiming over how delicious it smelled.

“Oh, yes,” the woman had said with a nod when Dana told her the name. “I always feel that a fragrance tends to suit the wearer and yours does to a T my dear.” Dana had laughed, shaking her head as her cheeks flushed.

But, as she had been walking around the studio barefoot- her new shoes hurting her feet- and wearing a flowy purple dress with her hair in loose braids, Fox had found he could not have agreed more.

In fact, he had taken a few quick pictures of her and shown her later that day, both of them laughing as she then pirouetted around the office.

She had stopped wearing it though, after Tom bought her a very expensive bottle of designer perfume. It smelled good, but it was not the scent Fox associated with her.

Hers was rich, reminding him of her dancing as she had laughed, but also of forests and nights under the stars. It made him think of fairies flitting through the trees, kissing the flowers to sleep, and waking the night animals from their day's slumber.

He loved her perfume and smelling it again made him smile as he took a bite of his second breakfast, hoping the one Tom bought had been chucked in the trash.

The first client arrived as he was halfway through his second breakfast. It was her first time in the studio and she was nervous. Arriving early, she had hoped to assuage her worries.

Dana took the garment bag of outfit changes from her and escorted her into the studio’s dressing room, putting her at ease as Fox double checked that everything was ready.

He smiled when he heard them laughing and he stopped for a second to listen more intently. Dana’s laugh was a bit quieter, but it was there and hearing it was enough for him.

The day passed by in a busy blur after that, lunch ordered and eaten when a moment allowed. By the end of the day, he was tired and feeling the effects from his lack of sleep the night before and the run that morning.

“Goodnight,” Dana said softly as she buttoned her coat, taking her hair down and putting on her hat.

“Goodnight,” Fox replied, smiling at her as she nodded, her own smile somewhat forced.

He sighed as he watched her walk out the door and to her car, leaving him with too many thoughts and worries running through his mind.

_____________

The next two days were very busy, leaving them with not much time to talk.

But he kept an eye on her.

He saw how she would seem to come back to herself, laughing and teasing him or the clients the way she used to, but then she would stop. Her smile would disappear and she would pull her large cardigan around her body, as though she wanted to disappear and hide.

He hated seeing her that way, knowing it had to be a memory of something Tom had said to her, leaving her feeling inadequate and insecure.

She was quiet at the end of the day, checking emails and adding clients to the schedule, as he edited some pictures, cutting his eyes over to her often.

Her phone beeped and she sighed as she looked at it, typing out a quick reply and setting it back onto the desk. Her chair squeaked as she stood up and came over to stand beside him.

“I need to ask you a question.”

“Go for it,” he said, smiling and giving her his full attention.

“Well…” She cleared her throat and pulled her cardigan around herself. “There is that wedding this weekend.”

“Yeah.”

“And you’re driving up tomorrow afternoon.”

“Yeah,” he said again.

“I mean, we’re going to the wedding. I’m not asking to not go. I’m…” She sighed and he smiled.

“What is it?” he asked softly.

“Is it okay if my sister comes with me?”

“Oh,” he said, raising his eyebrows in surprise, having not expected that to be the question.

“I know it’s a work weekend, but I…” she said hurriedly. “She won’t be there at the wedding, or the hotel. Well, except tomorrow night. She has friends who live by the venue. She and I were talking and I thought, if you didn’t mind, she and I would drive up together. She’d visit with them overnight Saturday and then pick me up on Sunday.”

“Okay. But, why do you feel you need to ask me if she can come with you?”

“Well… because you’re paying for my room,” she said quietly, licking her lips.

“Dana,” he said, standing up as he shook his head. “It’s… it’s your room.”

“But you’re paying for it,” she said again. “It’s for work. I don’t want you to think I’m not taking my job seriously. Because I-”

“I would never think that of you,” he cut across her, frowning slightly as he shook his head again.

“I just…” She drew in a deep breath and looked down before raising her eyes to his, biting her bottom lip as she exhaled through her nose.

“Your sister is more than welcome to join you. In fact, how about if you both join me for dinner tomorrow evening once we’re all there? Unless you would rather it be just the two of you?”

“Oh. I’d like that. I’d liked for her to meet you,” she said with a smile. “I’ve told her a lot about you. If you’re sure you don’t mind, that is.”

“Not at all. I’ll make a reservation at the hotel restaurant for say… seven thirty?”

“Yeah. That would be good.”

“Great,” he said, smiling at her. “And you know, why don’t you take tomorrow off? We don’t have any clients and I’ll just be here getting things ready, along with doing some editing. No reason for both of us to be here.”

“Are you sure? I can come and help you pack things up.”

“No, that’s okay. We’ll be quite busy this weekend. Best get some rest while you can.” He smiled again and she nodded slowly, still looking uncertain. “You could even leave now if you’d like to, get home a little early.”

“I… okay. I’ll let my sister know. About the dinner, I mean. Thank you, Fox.”

“You’re welcome, Dana.”

She stepped back to her desk, glancing over at him over her shoulder. Gathering her things, she took a moment on her phone, smiling when she read the message she then received.

“My sister says to thank you and she looks forward to meeting you.”

“Tell her the feeling is more than mutual,” he said with a smile and a nod.

“I will. Thank you again,” she said, biting her lip and then exhaling. “Thank you for everything.”

“Yeah,” he replied softly, nodding again.

“See you tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow,” he agreed as she gave him a small smile. Putting her phone in her coat pocket, she held his gaze for a second and then left without looking back.

“Tomorrow,” he whispered, letting out a deep breath.

[lavenoon]

Hi! ✨ GIVE YOURSELF ANOTHER COMPLI- No I'm kidding XD (But you deserve it, so know your writing is wonderful and remember to remind yourself of it now and again yeah?~)

But I come here with an actual question about AU that I thought because of the latest chapter haha! What would you say are the insecurities and other stuff that Robin would share with Sun and Moon vs what they share with Eclipse? Like what type would they rather have Eclipse listen to that they wouldn't feel that good expressing to the boys and vice versa?

(Rest assured I reread comments religiously I do remind myself through those! It's like body positivity vs body neutrality to me maybe? Hard to really look at it as more than just my way to have fun, yknow?)

I think it's less of a clear cut "this they only discuss with Sun/Moon, and this only with Eclipse" - as always, I make it complicated!

It depends a good bunch on what kind of reaction Y/N would want - like with the example from Fragile!

Y/N's fear: Sun and Moon leaving them, for whatever reason, and being alone again. Which is to say the fear of being rejected and ending up isolated.

Sun/Moon's reaction: We would never, we would move heaven and earth to stay with you, nothing will ever make us leave you, we love you!

Eclipse's reaction: Dude, yeah, I get that. It sucks. Every day there's that nagging feeling that today could be it, everything just catching up to you, and then you already know what it's like to not be alone and it just sucks even worse now that you know the alternative

Y/N needs reassurance often enough, to hear that yes, the boys want to stay with them, and will interfere even when circumstances try to separate them.

But sometimes.. Sometimes the reassurance doesn't help. Sometimes hearing "we would never!" just makes you feel worse, because now you feel silly for being scared, when anxiety isn't rational! That's when they need someone who understands, who has those fears, too, and who can tell them "you're not alone in this, and it sucks that you feel like this"

(on a similar note, Eclipse starts sending blueprints and gadgets to Y/N, because he wants them safe, too, but also because apparently being too blasé about injuries runs in the family, and he knows that Sun and Moon don't take the risk seriously enough sometimes. He knows Y/N wants them safe though, too, so he knows if he sends them the stuff, Y/N will make sure that Sun/Moon leave the house only appropriately decked out in security gadgets)

Reassurances about their job Y/N mainly seeks with Sun/ Moon, since they see them in action, and can make accurate judgements about what supervisors might think and how they did on a certain mission.

But if it's just to talk smack about fellow agents that just don't get how to have fun? (Because Sun and Moon pretend they're serious, despite their gimmicks) Someone made a stupid comment that says nothing about their actual talent and expertise? Then they go to Eclipse, because he makes it just so much funnier and shares some stories of his own (which is good for him, too, and reassures him that being eccentric is not just a him thing. Y/N plays up Sun and Moon's little theatrics, too, just for him)

Even between Sun and Moon there's differences - Sun is a lot more action oriented, and will gladly help propose contingency plans and solutions. Moon is a lot more laid-back, and an avid defender of "sleep on it" and ready to hold them for more emotional support.

Not to say that the boys only have those tactics - they adapt, of course. Some problems can't be advised away, or slept away. They just fumble a lot more out of their comfort zone, but they do try!

I feel like I left your og ask behind a long time ago oops

The thing is, it's very hard to say specifically what other anxieties Y/N might share with whom - because their reactions are always different, and there's many anxieties to have, with different needs regarding the reassurance and validation. Without a direct example it would become much too broad, and my brain won't actually let me think about more that I could break up like the one above. But! If you have any specific thoughts you're of course welcome to ask about those specifically, I'm just really bad at thinking about stuff without prompting fghdjs

[cinnamonest]

If Xiao darling is actually well behaved and stops being appreciative would xiao be less mean?

You know I've done my boy wrong because I've failed to discuss the fact that honestly if you accept him and act in complete submission, Xiao can be a very very sweet lover honestly.

Like, he does care about how you feel. He does want you to be happy. He just... is really really bad at expressing his emotions properly, doesn't know what he's doing, doesn't understand his own feelings, and has that tsundere nature where he might lash out out of hurt if he feels you don't love him like he loves you. But if you *do* return his feelings and are affectionate and loving, agree to abide by the strict rules and regulations he forces onto you, always do what he says and accept his superiority and that he's always right, it's not so bad. Once you get past the outer walls, he's very very loving.

In fact, it's a little... too much. Once he starts feeling reciprocated, he gets insanely clingy. He just really really likes touch, it's something he's never really had before though and he has no other source of it so he gets addicted fast. Follows you all around, holds you all the time. Always needing to be touchy in some capacity. He can't express himself in words much, so he tries to communicate how he feels that way. One of his favorite things is coming back from a long task of work and coming back to just take a nice long nap in bed... or outside, since you might be able to earn privileges to go to the "outdoor" part of the teapot abode after a while. Just resting in the sun, head on your chest, arms wrapped around your frame. Will get you little things he thinks would make you happy, things he finds from the outside world.

So you'd have to be very submissive, because he's too sensitive. The moment you defy anything or show resistance or anything he interprets as a rejection/disagreement he gets hurty and mean again. Also will get jealous over anything -- even if he feels like you're enjoying a certain inanimate object or pet or something like that, he gets upset because... you should be that happy and smiley only for him >:( A lot of his mood depends on little things like that. Because in his mind, if you really love him then you'll be good so if you're not good it means you don't love him right?

Also he likes verbal reassurance. If you actually say "I love you" the first time he'll legitimately tear up a little. But due to his unfamiliarity with social norms he's a bit shameless about begging for it, will kinda tug on your arm like say it again pls

But basically, yes, he can be a very loving person, in his own way.

[spacewizardtrek]

WARNING: This post will ruin you. Like Medusa; look at your peril.

But here is is. It’s the one you’ve all been waiting for.

Kirk bod appreciation #7: The RIDICULOUSLY BEAUTIFUL FACE. A highly technical and academic review.

This is a rather nebulous one. And not, on the face of it (pardon the pun) very philosophical, as it’s essentially about Kirk being stupidly pretty. This post probably will (it will) descend into just screaming and sobbing, but there will be, I promise, *some* meaningful insight into the meaning of ‘beauty’ and textual analysis of its role herein.

Beauty is subjective. But look at him. It’s not just being aesthetic, but it’s the *way* he’s aesthetic. Here I might repeat myself a bit, but stay with me. I may have mentioned before once hearing him described as ‘beautiful in the way women are often described as beautiful’. He is PRETTY. He is indeed often conveyed in the way the women stereotypically (not necessarily rightly) are on screen: perfect, smooth skin; soft, big eyes; luscious lips (his body is sensually curvaceous and furthermore it’s emphasised). He’s not androgynous though. He’s masculine. And yet I still sense what was meant in describing him as ‘beautiful in the way women are often described as beautiful’. He is a rather uncommon form of gender fuckery. He is a form of stereotype-subversion not commonly acknowledged. He seems to be everything at once, ALL THE GENDER; combines whichever traits he desires from those categories, and yet is undeniably a man and masculine whatever the ingredients. HOW IS THIS POSSIBLE, one might wonder. The fact of the matter is, that it IS. And it teaches us something.

The FUCK. nO. You are not allowed to be that pretty, and you are NOT allowed to look at her like that. We’re trying to have a SENSIBLE DISCUSSION here.

Sorry, that was a non-sequitur / nothing to do with what we learn by Kirk’s embodiment; I was just ambushed by my own gif. Only the control of a Vulcan. ONLY that could possibly withstand this onslaught. And even that won’t hold up forever AS WE WELL KNOW

God.

This is going well, as you can tell.

OK. So, it’s claimed he has Eyes and Stupidly Long Weakness-Inducing Eyelashes. You know, from all that fanfic that goes on about ‘big, sparkling eyes’ and him fanning his ‘long, copper eyelashes’. I mean, yeah right, tropey mc tropeface -

IT’S TRUE. HE IS LITERALLY AN ANIME PRINCESS.

There are some moments where he just BLINKS and, how to describe it...how does a BLINK have that effect. It’s NOT ALLOWED.

...I’m sorry. It IS allowed. All of it. I am not shaming you your beauty. Never change, Jim. Never.

OK. I’m ok. 3 pics down, we can get through this -

Oh you are joking. Stop.

I don’t understand how anyone can be so beautiful. Life is a lie. Reality is fake -

- you did NOT just turn your big anime eyes on Spock. You do know this is why he ran away to PURGE ALL HIS EMOTIONS?

And for that matter, you know when Kirk looks his most beautiful? Literally WHEN HE’S LOOKING AT SPOCK. Spock talks some bollocks and Kirk just sparkles like a fucking angel:

Unbelievable. But utterly undeniable.

Sigh. Moving on.

Oh - someone once suggested I talk about The Lips. Lips are so wonderful aren’t they. So many wonderful things they can do.

And Kirk’s. They’re there in every picture: perfect, rosy, soft and madness-inducing. My advice is just...don’t think about them. But since I’ve been asked to draw attention to them, well, you’ve just sealed your fate. Scroll down at your peril.

I WARNED YOU.

I am pulling NO punches.

I’ve seen this great meme going around:

Excuse me though....CUTE?

That’s the understatement of the 23rd century.

Try impossibly beautiful, mind and body: heart of solid gold, soul deep in love with you. Those eyes and all their passion burned into your memories a thousand times over, along with - maybe, suggestibly, idk I’m extrapolating from all the goddamn tension - even the one unforgettable time he laid between lily-white sheets and gave himself to you; every gift of the mind, body and soul - and your ostensibly-forced Vulcan conditioning, that completely ignored how incompatible one part of you was with it, caused so much dissonance that you thought the only possible course of action for you both to survive was to BREAK UP, tear yourself from this beauty and love and sweetness to PURGE ALL EMOTIONS because nothing, nothing equipped you for this; you were set up specifically to fail, and fail hard in the face of transcendental love and beauty by those who rejected such things and didn’t understand you and could never imagine this for you and who instead of helping your beautiful neurodivergent brain flourish taught you to repress and caused you pain and shame and Gol was so hard and Kirk was so sad, so very sad and depressed and hurt and yet he couldn’t stop loving you with a bond so strong he called to you across the stars and Gol was all for naught yet you still didn’t know how to live like this, it was torture, torture until the mind meld with the living machine flashed your BIOS and you knew, love.exe was suddenly running with no errors and he came after you and held you and you held hands and, and -

.

*sobbing*

.

just...give me a moment

.

YOU WONDER WHAT THE SUBTEXT (FRIKKIN’ MAIN TEXT) OF STAR TREK: THE MOTION PICTURE WAS ALL ABOUT???

The pain?? The angst?? The two logical entities seeking contact, love, THIS SIMPLE FEELING? That fucking moment when spock walks on the bridge and the only way he can control himself is to be SUPER Vulcan, while his love gazes at him with those EYES, fucking huge and glittering and hurt and loving?? Is it so much a mystery what memories these two are carrying, what’s behind the searing tension???????

Love him. Love him Spock. Take him in your arms and love him. He’s for you. All for you. Fucking hell guys. The fuck. This movie.

.

ok.

ok I can do this

CAN U NOT

those damn eyes I swear

It’s obviously not all just superficial physical beauty. What IS beauty? Narratively we do sometimes find this ‘prettiness’ enhanced and emphasized like the old vaseline lens to set the tone of a scene (he’s vulnerable and delicate, or someone’s indeed in love with him so we see their ‘lens’ on him); but it is somewhat intangible and nebulous and changeable. I don’t think aesthetic beauty, if one deems it so, on its own, would be enough for the likes of Spock (indeed, no woman could charm him thusly); it's about something deeper. It’s about who he is. Who he is inside: the beautiful AND the imperfect. How his good and bad - how his ‘all’ -  chimes with Spock’s 'all’. The Enemy Within deals with this, and shows how Spock loves all of Kirk, wants him complete, with both his light and shadow. The beauty of all of us is this totality and variance, not one intangible quality.

I’ll bet Spock’s parents knew immediately. Can you imagine Sarek trying to be a total bitch over Kirk, having heard the rumours and just wanting to have one more thing to reject Spock over, immediately projecting onto Kirk as some blow-up pretty-boy and how Incredibly More Disappointing My Son Is for being Obviously In Love With Stupid Illogical Human Doll Face Bubble Butt Bimbo Captain, and Amanda’s like, stfu, let me remind you Kirk is actually a Fucking Amazing Highly Decorated Starship Captain who Saves Your Life and don’t you DARE resent him just because he’s got tits/ass/tum/lips that won’t quit and is obviously the freakin’ sun Spock orbits. Mr ‘I married a human but that was special because it was logical’ or some bullshit. How is Kirk an illogical choice? I mean literally, Spock is a Science Genius™ on the federation’s FLAGSHIP whose well-matched Genius Captain™ understands him, accepts him, brings the best out of him, helps him fulfil his whole potential and is in love with him in the deepest and purest way and will be his bonded soulmate for ALL OF TIME and that fucking sour-faced bih at the start of that ep, ffs.

Of course Amanda stays in touch with Kirk, adores the fuck out of him, sends him old Vulcan lit on t’hy’la bonds (yes sarek, a T’HY’LA bond, so revered freakin’ poets write about it) etc because frankly her son could do FAR FUCKING WORSE.

FAR. FUCKING. WORSE.

Don’t...just don’t slip the bod into the equation, the face is enough for one post. We’re all in therapy for this already, let’s not relapse.

Oh, what’s the use. I’m gonna die. This is it. This is like the Monty Python joke that is so funny it kills you. This man is lethal. I need to stop this thread and purge all my emotions

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

That’s it. I’m dead. You’re dead. We’re all dead.

I hope, however, seeing this post was worth it. See you at Gol everyone.

.

.

The Forbidden Texts, DO NOT READ:

Kirk bod appreciation #6: The Curves. The Front. The...chest. AND THE AMAZING GREEN WRAP

Kirk bod appreciation #5: The Paws

Kirk bod appreciation #4: The Curves. The Back. Poetry in motion.  

Kirk bod appreciation #3: Season 3 (Part 1)

Kirk bod appreciation #2b: The Gluteus Maximus

Kirk bod appreciation #2a: The Gluteus Maximus

Kirk bod appreciation #1: The Tum

[flying-nightwing]

Fluff Alphabet - Jason Todd

Hello guys! This is my first alphabet because I saw everyone do it and i wanted in. I took this alphabet. I had a lot of fun to indulge in Jason, because well. Do I need to explain? 

Anyhow, enjoy this little thing inspired by my feelings for Jason Todd!

Disclaimer: This is my vision of the character and in no way an universal truth

Check out my masterlist in bio // pinned!

A = Attractive (What do they find attractive about the other?)

Your eyes. Jason could get lost in them by a simple glance. They say eyes are the windows to the soul, and he found it to be very true the second he met you. He will sometimes doubt he’s worth your love, but your gaze is enough to reassure him at every turn. He also can���t get enough of that spark that lights up when he makes you laugh, it draws him in. Your eyes are so kind and loving, the rest doesn’t really matter to him.

B = Baby (Do they want a family? Why/Why not?)

Let’s be truthful here, Jason is terrified of having kids. Everytime the discussion gets even close to the topic of family, he gets vivid images of his own father with him and it fills him with dread that he'll end up just like him. Then, he thinks about his lifestyle and how just being the Red Hood (or having been, as a matter of fact) could endanger his family. But I think deep down he craves having a family, having kids (whether they’re biologically his or adopted), because he’s just that natural caring person.

C = Cuddle (How do they cuddle?)

Continuing on that natural caring person wave, Jason will usually cuddle as the big spoon. His large frame makes it ridiculously easy for himself to wrap around you completely, and he loves to see you curled up around him, safe and comfortable in his arms. He likes to know he’s shielding you from any potential danger, it just eases his conscience. But sometimes he’ll have a bad day, or a rough patrol, and he’ll wordlessly slip in your hold in bed. It surprises you every time how small he can make himself, with his head on your chest above your heart and latched around your waist holding for dear life. Then, he’ll rely on you to make him feel safe, and he’ll fall asleep like that (he also likes when you play with his hair when he gets like that).

D = Dates (What are dates with them like?)

Jason is insanely romantic, nobody can prove me otherwise. With the amount of novels and books he read, it would be hard not to know how to be an exemplary lover. However, doing grand gestures in public and/or expensive shits is not his style. So it isn’t rare to come back home from your job after a tough week, to see Jason lighting up candles on a rose petals covered table, smiling at you and telling you to get changed in your pajamas and relax a bit before he finishes cooking (probably one of you favourite meals, or something new he knows you’ll like to surprise you). Dancing on your building’s rooftop or driving outside the city to take a walk under the stars are also his ideas of dates. It’s always something private and meaningful and a proof Jason is a hopeless romantic.

E = Everything (You are my ____ (e.g. my life, my world…))

“You are my reason to keep going on.” I believe at some point after he came back from the dead, Jason had a really hard time finding a reason to keep living (finding out he was replaced as Robin, that Batman didn’t kill the joker, etc…). He was in a really dark place and numb to everything. But then, he met you and suddenly life wasn’t so terrible. After a while, he even finds himself excited to get up in the morning (or early afternoon if he’s been on a long patrol) and smiling at random times. He wants to make an effort for you, because you deserve his best self and the least he can do is try (you still love him at his worst though, and he still can’t wrap his head around it but he’s insanely grateful for it).

F = Feelings (When did they know they were in love?)

One night, Jason woke up in sweats and screaming his lungs out. He had a nightmare where you were kidnapped and tortured by the joker the way he was; it was the first time you were the victim in his nightmares (usually it was faceless people or himself, and even sometimes his brothers. But never you). He found himself wanting to have you in his arms, needing to have you in his arms, and that’s how he knew it wasn’t just a crush anymore, that he was in deep with you.

G = Gentle (Are they gentle? If so, how?)

People have this misconception that Jason is rough, judging by the everything about him. But you would have never foreseen him to be so delicate and gentle with you. He is very strong and can be rash sometimes, but with his lover, he is always careful. He has enough pain and hurt in his life there is now way he’d put the most important person in his life through that. You have to almost beg him to be rough with you, and he’ll only let go if he’s 100% sure you’re okay with it.

H = Hands (How do they like to hold hands?)

Absolutely. He’s not big on PDA but he always wants to hold your hand, especially in public. He can get uncomfortable if there are too many people around, and the little subconscious squeezes of your hand never fails to bring him back to reality and help him focus on you instead of feeling trapped. Also he’s afraid of losing you in a crowd, even if he’s tall and could spot you easily. So yeah, his hand in yours is a constant.

I = Impression (What was their first impression?)

Depends on how you met really. It’s hard to say really, he might have seen you as an angel, or as a simple acquaintance until he discovered your character and you grew on him. He’s a versatile boy in the people he falls for.

J = Jealousy (Do they get jealous?)

Not jealous per say, but insecure. Everytime he sees you talking with someone who seems to be (subconsciously or not) flirting with you, he gets this feeling you’ll suddenly realize you could do much better than him and leave him for someone less broken, less messed up than him. It creeps in his chest and hurts like a heart attack, and it only dies down when you inevitably come back in his arms and look at him like he’s your world. Then, the storm dies and he knows he at least got one more day with you. And as much as the idea of Jealous Jason showing you who you belong to (wink wink) is appealing, I don’t think it would happen unless it has been established both of you were into that kind of foreplay and he knows for sure you’re in for the long haul with him. Then it becomes a game rather than an actual insecurity thing.

K = Kiss (How do they kiss? Who initiated the first kiss?)

Jason’s kisses are soft and wholesome. You can feel every ounce of love and admiration he has for you, and even if they do get emotional or even dominant at some points, it’s never forecefull. Who initiated the first kiss is nebulous, I think it was more of a mutual thing than an unilateral decision. I like to think it happened in a magnet effect, where both parties met halfway because Jason is a very respectful person in general (except if you piss him off for real) and he wouldn’t make you uncomfortable by kissing you without your consent.

L = Love (Who says ‘I love you’ first?)

It’s gotta be you. Jason, who’s afraid of saying it and getting rejected/mocked would definitely not want to get his feet wet first (what if you laugh? What if you leave?). He will show it in his way, but he’d wait for you to say the words first. But once it’s out there? Hooty hoot. He’ll say it like a mantra. He’ll never ever stop saying it at every occasion he gets. 

M = Memory (What’s their favourite memory together?)

At the fair in your city. Spending the afternoon going from attraction to attraction, having fun in the small roller coaster you were pretty sure was one heavy loaded train away from toppling down. After sun down, you went from game booth to game booth, collecting small and colorful stuffed animals and eating everything sugary and fat you could get your hands onto. You were convinced you could beat the rigged shoot the duck game, and when you couldn’t, Jason stepped in and absolutely made the smug smirk drop from the guy’s face. You walked away with a giant Panda, sleepy as hell after you sugar rush, and Jason had to carry you out of the car bridal style. That picture you took on top of the ferris wheel is on his nightstand and is his favourite possession of his. 

N = Nickel (Do they spoil? Do they buy the person they love everything?)

No, he’s not that kind of guy. I think he’s much more into meaningful acts and gestures than buying your love. He would sometimes spoil you if the occasion came to it, but I don’t think he’d be the type to open up his wallet as a demonstration of love.

O = Orange (What colour reminds them of their other half?)

Aqua blue. No other reason than the fact it’s probably the color the most opposite to red. While he absolutely loves to see you wear red things (it drives him crazy in the sweetest way), he doesn’t want to associate you with the darkest part of him. You’re the beautiful blue to his glaring red, because you’re the best thing in his life and he wants to outline and highlight you out as much as possible.

P = Pet names (What pet names do they use?)

I don’t think he has a signature pet name, he probably uses one that fits with the object of his affections and the history he has with them. He’d also be mindful of what you like and don’t like, and adjust them accordingly. 

Q = Quaint (What is their favourite non-modern thing?)

Libraries. The old ones that smell of paper and leather. The ones with the shelves that climb up to the wall and the old worn seats that are just perfect to sit into and read for hours. Jason loves a calm environment and a quiet victorian library does the trick just well.

R = Rainy Day (What do they like to do on a rainy day?)

Read, cuddles, adult cuddles... ;) I think Jason likes rainy days because it gives him an excuse to spend time with you at home. He’d probably bake something in the afternoon and you might or might not turn it into a flour war, make a mess in the kitchen but make a bonding activity of cleaning it up after (he and you know when to be kids and when to be mature and you both respect the line, and that’s why it’s so fun). Rainy days are domestic days and nothing is more pure or adorable than domestic Jason. It’s a hill I’ll die on. 

S = Sad (How do they cheer themselves/others up?)

That’s a tricky one, because when Jason spirals down he has trouble getting out by himself. But when you are down, Jason will go to hell and back to make sure you feel better. He’ll cook you your favourite thing, skip patrol to stay by your side, do a dumb tik tok dance to put a smile on your face or hear you laugh. He’d be attentive to your needs and do everything in his power to help you.

T = Talking (What do they like to talk about?)

Everything. Jason is a smart boy, he’d enjoy either talking about art, or about larger questions in the universe, or maybe about the birds that made a nest outside. Jason is incredibly easy to talk to when he’s receptive to the person talking to him, and that surprises anyone who knows him on the surface or less. 

U = Unencumbered (What helps them relax?)

Massages, but only by you. He trusts you, he is as comfortable as he can get with you seeing him shirtless with his scars (no professional masseur/se will ever get up close to him), and with you touching him in perhaps more sensitive or vulnerable places. He’d close his eyes and let involuntary moans when you’d unknot the tension in his muscles (and you’d secretly enjoy having such a force of nature all putty and soft under your hands). Then it’d be cuddle time and he would be relaxed as he’s ever been.

V = Vaunt (What do they like to show off? What are they proud of?)

That’s simple: you. You’re his beautiful partner, the only one he has eyes for, so the world should see how great you are. He’d find a way to place you in every conversation, whether it would be to point out that hey, you can do that too, or because he just can’t shut up about you. That earns him infinite teasing from his family on how soft he is for you, but he can’t bring himself to care because he loves you so much. 

W = Wedding (When, how, where do they propose?)

Jason wanted to marry you, and you had talked about it enough as a couple that he knew you wanted it too. But he wanted to wait for the right moment and he couldn’t plan that. The proposal probably happened at an unexpected moment, like when you tried to make him soup when he got injured and ended up messing it up bad. You came back to the couch and apologized to him profusely, and with stars in his eyes he asked you to marry him. Or when one of his enemies tried to take you while taking out the trash, but you chucked the garbage bag AND the metal lid to them, and Jason got down on one knee the second you finished recounting the story, out of breath from running back inside. The wedding was a private affair (Roy was his best man) somewhere quiet and meaningful, without too many artifices or big set up. It was perfect for you two.

X = Xylophone (What’s their song?)

This is a hard one. I feel like Jason would be into soul/jazz, in the style of Marvin Gaye, Nat King Cole or Frank Sinatra. To some extent he is a very old school person, and I believe music is one of the topics that falls into that old school side of him. It’s just a feeling, it’s how I imagine Jason. Unforgettable by Nat King Cole would be his to-go song when it comes to you. 

Y = Yes (Do they ever think of getting married/proposing?)

Oh yea. Jaybird’s got the ring in mind as soon as he knew you were the one. See Wedding above.

Z = Zebra (If they wanted a pet, what would they get?)

I don’t think he’d want a pet, because he can be absent often, or he wouldn’t have enough time. But if he’d have to, he’d get a cat, I think. Walking a dog morning and night would get a little bit much, especially since sometimes he might have trouble getting out of bed after patrol. But a cat, a rescue stubborn older cat who has seen others, that would be a match. The cat would be distant at first, but one morning he’d wake up with his grump of a feline curled beside his pillow and purring, or after a rough day the cat would bring him its toy and Jason would just. Cry. Because this little creature became his friend. And it’s so pure. (Also Jason building cat trees and climbing installations for the cat? Satisfying image).

[sleepysnk]

Hi!!! Can I request a Levi x Fem! Reader one shot where the Reader is Levi's Assistant and he wanted to confess to her but doesn't know how. During lunch the 104th female cadets were asking the reader about her thoughts and advice when it comes to love. Which Levi overhear and uses those advices to confess to the reader.

Lots of fluff please

I love your writing style sooo muchhhh

aw! this is so cute 🥺 i really loved writing this one! thank you for your kind words anon! it means a lot 🖤. i hope you enjoy :)

Levi x Fem!Reader: Assistant

Warnings: None

(Y/N) was a great cadet. She impressed her peers with her skills, her knowledge, and many other unique things. She was quite a stellar cadet, and she even impressed the Commander of all people.

Now people with great abilities deserve to have some kind of reward. One day, she was called into Erwin's office. He discussed with her that he think she deserves a great reward for everything she has worked hard for, and being honest the girl was shocked at first.

He offered her a squad leader position, or to become an assistant. Now, he explained that both came with huge responsibilities. She was a bit under pressure on what to do, if she became squad leader, she would pick people to be apart of her squad. She'd get her own office, room, and she basically became a higher-up.

She also could become an assistant. He explained it's somewhat what Moblit is to Hanji. The thing was, the only assistant option was Levi.

(Y/N) didn't have the best relationship with him. They never really spoke, she was always intimidated by him. She decided to save the stress and go with the assistant position.

When Erwin told Levi about it, he was a bit confused. Why would (Y/N) want to assist him? He was also mad that Erwin didn't mention it a lot earlier, but he had to go with it anyway. He didn't mind having one, it would help him get things done a lot faster.

The first few days were a bit rough for her. Levi totally had her running around HQ like a maniac, he'd make her get him tea, or even to clean his office. She was always tired by the end of the day, and he always worked her out.

Over time, they started to talk a bit more. She got out of her shell, and talked to Levi about a lot of things. Levi would speak to her more, even if it was just a one word answer.

Thing was, over those months she was his assistant, Levi fell hard for her. They shared so many stories together, and having her around was something he genuinely enjoyed. He wasn't sure how to tell her though, she was his assistant, and what if she thought it was weird or creepy?

(Y/N) though, had no idea about this. She just assumed Levi was an unavailable person, because of how cold and stoic he was. He did treat her a bit differently from everyone else, he always spoke to her, and he could be nice sometimes.

It was obvious to Erwin and Hanji though. They knew that Levi had something for her, it's just how obvious he makes it. He mentions her a lot to them, and they always told him the same thing.

Go. For. It.

Unfortunately, the raven-haired male would never listen to them. He assumed he couldn't ever tell her without her rejecting him. Of course, Hanji tried to tell him to give it a shot, and that (Y/N) isn't the type to reject him. Levi was just telling himself that.

He never really knew how she felt about love either. She never mentioned it, and he assumed it was because she wasn't looking for it. Unless she was, but just not with him.

One day, he decided to just say fuck it and do it. Thing was, he didn't know how to. He didn't know what she liked, how she felt about him, etc. The man was loosing it trying to figure out what to do.

During lunch, he watched as (Y/N) sat down with her friends. She was such a beauty to him, and he always admired her.

"How was training?" Mikasa asked and looked around at everyone.

(Y/N) sighed. "Honestly, my legs are gonna fall off" she replied and ate some of her bread.

Sasha sat down and seemed a little upset. "Everything alright Sasha?" Krista asked and nodded.

She sighed. "I don't know how to get Connie to like me back! I try and hint it, but he's so blind!" she replied and huffed.

(Y/N) nodded. "Girl, you have to show it. You can't push him and expect it to happen" she said and smiled a bit.

"(Y/N), you've never really talked about love before. How do you even feel about it?" Ymir asked and crossed her arms.

Levi looked up as Ymir asked that question. He wants to pay attention to what she has to say, maybe it could help him?

She sighed. "Well being honest, I've always wanted to fall in love with the right person. Love is so cool, well at least from what I've heard" she replied.

Mikasa took a sip of her water. "Got any advice for Sasha here?" she asked.

"Sasha, you have to go for it. If I were Connie, I'd want you to confess to me. Maybe be passionate about it! I would like someone to confess to me under the stars, and kiss me under the moonlight not gonna lie" she replied.

Sasha looked at her. "But that's so cheesy (Y/N)!" she said and started to eat.

She laughed a little. "Yeah it might be cheesy, but being honest, it's really cute. I'd also want that person to be 100% honest, like tell me how you feel about me. You know?" she said and nodded her head.

Levi knew instantly what he had to do to get (Y/N) to be his girlfriend. He planned to do what she suggested during the night, he knew it would be a cloud free sky.

Hours went by after lunch, and Levi was expecting (Y/N) to come to his office soon. She had dish duty, and was told to head to his office once she was done. He left a note in his office for her to meet him outside, he needed help with 'odm gear'.

(Y/N) finished her duties and headed to Levi's office. It was kind of late, it was around 10 p.m. the sun was down, and she was pretty tired. She hoped that Levi wouldn't work her too hard, if he did she wouldn't forgive him for that.

She got to his office door and knocked.

Silence.

"Captain?" she said and opened the door to his office.

He wasn't there, which confused her. Maybe he was sleeping or showering? She listened for the shower, but it was still quiet. She walked over to his desk and saw a note on his desk with her name on it.

Y/N,

I apologize for not telling you sooner, but I need you to meet me outside. I need some help with the ODM Gear, please head there as soon as possible.

-Levi.

She nodded and shrugged. Nothing she can't handle. (Y/N) made her way towards the ODM Gear area, she wasn't exactly sure what she had to do, but she hoped it wasn't much. She noticed how pretty the sky was. The moon shined over the landscape as the stars danced across the sky. The air was warm, since it was summer time.

Levi saw her approaching. This was the moment of truth, he wasn't going to go back now, and he sure as hell wasn't going to waste the opportunity to confess.

"Captain?" she said and walked into the room.

He revealed himself. "You finally got here, I was waiting for you" he said and crossed his arms.

She nodded. "My apologies sir, I wasn't sure where you were. That's all" she replied and looked at him.

Levi sighed. "Come with me please" he said and walked outside.

The girl was confused at where he was going. "Um.. Levi? Where are you going?" she asked and nodded.

"Just come with me" he replied and looked back at her.

(Y/N) without any other choice, just followed him. She was a bit confused at where he was taking her. She didn't want to question him though, Levi being angry would be a bad sight.

He stopped at this field. She looked around at the wind blew a little. "Why are we here?" she asked and looked at him.

Levi turned around and looked at her. "(Y/N)... there is something I want to talk to you about" he said.

She nodded. "Well what is it?" she asked and looked up at him.

He sighed. "(Y/N)... you being my assistant for so long has made me realize that you aren't just an assistant to me. Yeah you can be weird, but being honest, you made me realize so much about myself. I may never speak on my feelings, but I want to tell you honestly how I feel" he said.

She blinked for a moment. "What are you trying to say?" she asked.

He ran a hand through his hair, and grabbed her hand. "What I'm saying to you is that I have strong feelings for you. I didn't want to tell you, but being around you has made me a better person. I'm not great with words or emotions, but I know the feelings I have for you are true" he replied.

(Y/N) stood there for a second. She was shocked that Levi out of all people had feelings for her. She didn't really know what to say, it was a beautiful moment in her mind.

"Levi I... I can't believe that you have feelings for me. This is a lot being honest" she said and looked at him.

He nodded. "It's alright if you don't feel the same, but I can't hold in my feelings anymore" he replied.

She smiled a bit. "I'm not saying I don't feel the same at all, but I want to take it slow. I will admit, I have some feelings for you as well" she said.

His eyes widened at the words. She felt the same way? "You do?" he asked.

She giggled a bit. "Yes Levi! I do. You're the only guy that has shown me something so passionate, and I'd love to head into something serious with you" she replied.

Levi felt a smile grow onto his lips. "If that's the case, then I would love to take things slow" he said.

She smiled. "I would love that" she replied and looked into his eyes.

He pulled her into a hug. He couldn't believe she didn't reject him. After some time, they headed inside. Levi was a very happy guy in the end.

[jimakuchan]

And They Were Roommates...

Part Fifty

The village of Gaipan was a sleepy town, surrounded by a gorgeous landscape filled with some of the tallest redwood trees Zuko had ever seen. If it weren’t for the stressful situation he found himself in, he might have taken a moment to appreciate the beauty of the sun sinking into the horizon amongst the tree tops.. but unfortunately now was not the time to take in the wonders of nature around him. 

“Uncle would be so disappointed” Zuko thought to himself. Iroh always chastised him for not appreciating the little things in life, but everything happening right now was not a little thing. It was a very big thing. A possibly life changing thing was about to happen to Zuko, and despite the pep talk Aang and Sokka gave him, Zuko’s leg was shaking from nerves. He could feel his hands clamming up, his knuckles turning white from how hard he was clenching his fist, and his entire body was on edge... waiting for the other shoe to drop. 

The entrance to the camp sight was just around the corner, and Katara was taking her time with driving on the uneven dirt road. It took everything within Zuko’s power to not yell at her to speed up. His friends were here doing him a favor, he needed to be patient. He took a deep breath in, holding it in his lungs, relishing in the burn before he let the air escape out his mouth. Memories of the text conversations running rampant in his head, the fear that he was too late sitting comfortably in the forefront of his mind. 

“Just stay calm, everything will be alright” Zuko heard his mother’s voice in his head, but it felt like a lie. How long had he been lying to himself? About his feelings towards Y/N, his family, his friends, Spirits his life? Everything felt like it was spiraling out of control. What was that exercise Aang taught him again? In for four out for four? Mindfulness? Zuko couldn’t remember and frankly didn’t really care to at the moment. 

“We’re here” Katara’s voice echoed throughout the SUV. Zuko felt it then, the drop. His stomach was swirling inside of him and he felt the bile rise up his throat. It was now or never. Zuko felt so sure of himself when he sprinted outside of the apartment earlier today, where did that energy go?

“Are you okay man?” Sokka placed his hand on Zuko’s shoulder, a reassuring touch that he so desperately needed. It grounded Zuko, and he started to believe the lie his thoughts told him moments ago.

“Yes” Zuko replied, Sokka furrowed his brows but didn’t comment on it any further.

“Okay then let’s go!” Sokka’s face broke out into a wide grin, how he managed to stay so calm and collected all the time was beyond him. 

“Yea go get your girl Sparky!” Toph shouted from the middle seat. Zuko looked around at the faces of his friends, hope filled all of their eyes. He wished he could have an ounce of their faith. With a deep sigh he exited the car, taking his first step in the dirt and looked at the campsite around him. The rest of the gaang followed suit soon after. 

“Do you know what cabin she’s in?” Suki asked as they were walking towards the small campsite. A litter of log cabins surrounded the large fire pit in the center. It was a pretty decent place for a corporate retreat, something Zuko might even consider doing in the future. That is, if this all ended well. He didn’t think he could handle visiting the place where he was painfully rejected within a business setting.

“Not sure I just know it’s the women’s cabin. I’m sure we could ask someone.” Katara answered. She sounded sure of herself, but the way she was fidgeting with her bag gave her away. She was nervous too, and that’s when it dawned on him. Jet. The bane of their existence was here, and Katara hadn’t seen him since he caught him cheating on her with Y/N. Zuko admired her bravery. He had talked this out with Y/N, how much what Jet did to them hurt her, but he didn’t dwell on it too much with Katara. The possibility of running into him must be bothering her. Aang must have picked up on Katara’s nerves too, because he went to go hold her hand and kissed her cheek. Katara smiled at the gesture, and Zuko hated the jealous feeling that crept into his gut. 

He wished he could be that way with Y/N, to hold her hand and kiss her cheek when she was feeling down. Did they know the gift they possessed? To be unapologetically affectionate with each other? They must know. Zuko could see it when they looked at each other. He just hoped that he could have that in his future with Y/N.

“Over there! That’s Y/N’s cooler on the porch!” Zuko looked to where Suki was pointing. The cabin to the far left of the fire pit must be hers. The bright red cooler filled to the brim with stickers sat neatly next to the front door of the cabin; he could see the bright yellow EI sticker she bought from Ember Island on the front. Before he even realized his feet were moving, Zuko sprinted towards the cabin. He nearly tripped on the rickety steps on his way in. With a bit too much of his strength, Zuko slammed open the cabin door.

“Y/N?” Zuko shouted inside. The cabin itself was decent, four beds lined the back wall with a wide window separating each pair of beds. The bed next to the window had Y/N’s duffel bag resting at the edge of it. A kitchenette was to the right, filled with the snacks Y/N bought for the trip. To the left was a small table with a few chairs, Y/N’s travel mug sat on top of it in the center. Yep, this was definitely hers.

“She’s not here” Zuko nearly jumped out of his skin from the voice that sounded too close to his liking. He turned around to see a short woman with a blunt bob haircut. Her bandana was slipping off her forehead nearly covering her eyes, where she wore an annoyed expression on her face. Smellerbee.

“Where is she?” Zuko asked mirroring the other woman’s annoyance. He didn’t have time for small talk.

“You think I’m going to tell a total stranger the location of my coworker? You must be dumber than you look.” Smellerbee responded with a huff. Zuko narrowed his eyes at the small woman in front of him. If this was any other circumstance he would have been grateful that she was protecting Y/N, but at the moment Zuko only felt rage.

“I’m Y/N’s roommate and I need to talk to her. It’s important.” Smellerbee looked at Zuko like she’d rather be anywhere else than where she was, and it was really testing his patience.

“She left to go to the lake with Jet awhile ago. You follow that path behind the cabin and it’s a straight shot.” 

“Thank you” Zuko brushed passed Smellerbee and ran towards the path, nearly knocking into his friends in the process. He could hear the shouts of his friends behind him, but Zuko didn’t pay any attention to them. It was like he had tunnel vision as he ran through the trees towards the lake. The wind whipped through his long dark hair, sweat forming at the tip of his brow. The trees blurred together as he raced down the path. If Zuko was paying better attention he might have noticed the rustle in the bushes to his right, but he wasn’t paying attention at all. So when he collided into the hard body in front of him, Zuko was knocked flat on his ass.

“Spirits watch where the hell you’re going!” Zuko could recognize that voice anywhere. That arrogant tone only belonged to one person, and it was the last person on Earth that he wanted to see.

“Jet” Zuko gritted out through his teeth.

“That’s my name don’t wear it out” He responded with a curt laugh. Jet stood up and brushed the dirt off his pants and extended a hand to the man on the forest floor. Zuko took it as Jet helped him to his feet. He might hate the guy, but he didn’t want to give Jet the satisfaction of knowing his mere presence bothered him to no end.

“Where’s Y/N?” Zuko asked, aggravation flooding his voice. Jet didn’t respond at first, and just stared at him. He eyed Zuko up and down, as if to size him up. Jet just laughed again, and Zuko was one step away from punching him in the nose. 

“Oh wouldn’t you like to know?” 

“I don’t have time for your bullshit Jet, just tell me where she is” Zuko took a step forward, towering over Jet’s figure. He took great satisfaction in the gulp Jet took when he did. “Good” Zuko thought to himself, “I hope you’re nervous you fucking prick.” 

“I’ll tell you where she is...” Jet paused, and Zuko’s patience meter dropped to a near zero. “Eventually...”

“You will tell me now. I’m not taking no for an answer” Zuko clenched his fists, ready to force his way past Jet if he was going to waste his time. 

“Let’s have a chat first, man to man. It’s been long overdue...” Zuko was about to walk past him when Jet grabbed onto his wrist. “Besides... I have some information you’d want to know concerning Y/N” 

Zuko could feel his heart sink at such a simple statement. Information. He knew that Jet couldn’t be trusted, but Zuko couldn’t resist his curiosity. He turned around to face the man he loathed, a smug look painted his face as he dropped Zuko’s arm.

“You have 2 minutes, don’t waste it” Zuko crossed his arms across his chest, waiting for the other man to speak. Jet tilted his head towards the fallen tree off the side of the path, beckoning Zuko to follow. The silence was thick as they both sat on the rotting tree, rays of remaining daylight peaking through the trees that surround them. It was eerie, how quiet it was. Just the whistling wind around them to break up the unforgiving silence. 

“I know you hate me, but I just want you to listen for a bit. Then you can be on your merry way” he began, Zuko just stared waiting for him to continue. Jet took a deep breath, fiddling with the toothpick between his teeth. Gross.

“I just wanted to apologize to you, for what I did. It was fucked up and I’m sorry” That... was not what Zuko was expecting, his eyes widening in surprise. So this was what he wanted to discuss? 

“I was.. an angry person back then. I felt like you’re family personally ruined mine. To be fair I was right, but it was just your dad. Not you. It wasn’t your fault that your dad and his company evicted my family. Hell he kicked out his own son, why would he care about kids from the projects?” 

Zuko remembered the day Jet found out who his father was. Before then they were friends, two boys pissed at the world and the cards they were dealt in life. They use to sneak out at night, and roam the streets; stealing booze from liquor stores, smoking pot in parking lots, and just relishing in the feeling of being young and angry. Zuko felt that Jet was the first thing that was his and his alone. Jet chose to befriend him, not out of obligation because of his sister, at least that’s what he felt at the time. They shared secrets in the dark, with only the neon lights of the city keeping them company. Yes, Zuko never told him who is father was, but he did tell him a lot of the abuse he faced. How he was afraid to come home and face his father’s wrath. How he used to wish for anything to stop the pain. He cried in front of Jet that day, and Jet held him and told him he felt the same. That all changed when Jet found out about Ozai. He called Zuko to come out like normal, but instead of the promise of cheap thrills he lead him to an alleyway and beat the shit out of him. Zuko held his own, and eventually got the best of him, but the price of winning the fight was losing his best friend. He told himself he’d never forgive him for what he had done that night, and now the same boy, now a man, is next to him once again with the sun setting around them asking for forgiveness. 

“Fuck man you were my best friend.. and I threw it all away for what? Something completely out of your control? Because of someone you hated as much as I did? Losing you is one of my biggest regrets.. close second is what I did to Katara and Y/N” Jet hung his head low, his shoulders tense as he hunched over. Zuko didn’t know what to say at that moment, stunned into silence. He understood what Jet was feeling, succumbing to anger is much easier than processing other emotions: sadness, guilt, pain. Over time the anger just becomes a part of you, and it lashes out. Jet didn’t have anyone to help him move on from that like Zuko did.. he was alone. 

“I’m so fucking sorry Zuko. I know I don’t deserve your forgiveness.. like I don’t deserve Y/N’s.. but I want to try and be better. I know my apologies and promises in the past have been empty and hallow.. but I can’t keep doing that shit anymore it’s exhausting” Jet looked at Zuko then, his eyes shining from unshed tears. Jet was asking for forgiveness now, like Zuko had done many years ago. 

“I forgive you. For what you did to me..” Jet visibly deflated, finally releasing the breath he had been holding in, his body sagged in relief. 

“I don’t know if we could ever be as close as we were before... but if you’re willing to try I am. On a few conditions...”

“Name it” 

“Stop acting like a total ass to Y/N. That shit needs to end” Zuko requested.

“Done”

“You also need to apologize to Katara, she’s one of my closest friends and I can’t be friends with you if you haven’t done that. She won’t forgive you as easily as I did, and she may never do and that’s her right. You still need to though, it’s what she deserves.” Jet visibly shivered, an angry Katara was a terrifying sight, but he nodded in agreement nonetheless. 

“And finally you need to tell me where Y/N is” Jet laughed at this, but it wasn’t the smug laugh he used before. It was genuine this time.

“She’s sitting at the dock by the lake, at least that’s where she was when I left her.” He nodded and put a hand on Jet’s shoulder, the two men shared a moment of peace before Zuko went to stand up. Before he walked away Zuko turned to Jet and put out his hand, his way of extending an olive branch to the man he once called his best friend. Jet accepted it with a smile and they shook on it, what ‘it’ was neither of them knew.. but it was something. Change? Moving on? Something along those lines.

Zuko was the first to let go and turned to walk down the path, the sun light fading quickly. Before he got too far Zuko remembered he had one more thing to ask. 

“Hey Jet!” Zuko shouted, Jet turned around surprised.

“What?” he shouted back.

“You’re not dating Y/N again are you?” Zuko questioned, he needed to know before he made a complete fool of himself in front of the woman he loved. Jet let out a full belly laugh, nearly folding himself in half. Zuko quirked an eyebrow, unsure of what was so funny.

“Is that why you hauled your ass out in the middle of nowhere? You thought I made a move on her? Nah I wanted to apologize like I did with you. As if she’d ever take my ass back.” Zuko sighed with relief, but before he turned around Jet spoke again.

“The only bones she wants to jump are yours!” Zuko felt the heat rise to his cheeks, a smile growing on his face. He only hoped Jet was right as he ran further down the path towards the lake. 

As Zuko ran towards the lake the smile never left his face. He couldn’t ignore it anymore, Y/N definitely felt the same as he did. He could do this, he could finally tell her how he felt. With newly found confidence Zuko ran as fast as his legs could carry him. He could see the lake through the trees, he was close, so close to her. One more turn and he’d be there. 

When he finally made it to the small beach surrounding the lake Zuko whipped his head around desperately trying to find the dock. It was getting dark, both the sun and moon shared the same sky when he saw it. Saw her. 

Y/N was sitting at the edge of the dock, her feet dipped in the inky black water beneath her. The golden light of dusk shined on her hair as it swayed with the wind, her skin glowing as if she was made of stained glass. Zuko took a moment to admire her from afar as she sat blissfully unaware of his presence. He slowly walked towards her, gathering every ounce of courage he had.

“Y/N!” Zuko yelled out as he got closer to the dock. Y/N jumped, clearly surprised at his sudden outburst.

“Zuko? What are you doing here?” Y/N asked as she pulled her feet out of the water. She slowly stood up, trying not to put too much weight on her bad ankle. 

As Zuko got closer he thought about what he was going to say to her. He thought about how she took his breath away when he first laid eyes on her, how her smile lit up her face. He thought about all the little things he loved about her, how her nose scrunched up when she laughed and when she was annoyed. How she liked to dance around the apartment in her pajamas when she was stressed out. How she put way too much much sugar in her tea, and how she cried when she watched videos of baby ducks. He loved how much his Uncle loved her, his friends, and even though she would never admit it, his sister as well. He loved how she was patient, not only with others but with herself as well. He loved that she knew how to bring the best out of him, and how she was the reason he reconnected with the gaang. In such a short amount of time she became one of the most important people in his life. He wanted to tell her all of this and more.. but instead he said:

“I brought you the bracelet I made you” Zuko reached into his pocket and fished out the friendship bracelet he made with Kiyi. It was a pathetic little thing really, the pattern was inconsistent and the knots at the end were way too big, but he made it for her because he loved her. 

“You came all this way... to give me a bracelet?” Y/N asked, her head tilted to the side in confusion. Zuko wanted to smack himself, he barely even started and was already failing miserably.

“Um no that’s ugh, not the only reason” Y/N was looking at him waiting for him to continue. Zuko could feel himself drowning. “Why is this so hard? It’s simple. Three words. I. Love. You. Wait should I say I’m in love with you instead? Y/N says I love you to her friends all the time. What if she says I love you back but she means it in a friend way? I don’t mean it in a friend way. Shit I’ve been quiet too long. Say something you fucking idiot!!”  

“Zuko are you alright? Are you coming down with something you’re really red” Y/N raised her hand to feel his forehead but Zuko caught it. She furrowed her brows together, her eyes piercing right through him as he stood their awkwardly holding her wrist. The sky was turning dark, the only source of light was the moon that rose above them. It was late and he was wasting precious time. 

“Fuck it” Zuko said as he dropped her arm taking a step towards her, closing the insufferable distance between them. 

“What are you talking abou-” Y/N was interrupted with the feeling of Zuko’s lips on hers. It was chaste, but not without feeling. Instantly Zuko melted into it, her lips were as soft as he imagined so many times before. The skin on her cheeks felt warm under his hands where he gently held them, but before Y/N could even register what was happening Zuko pulled himself away, gracefully resting his forehead on hers. Zuko opened his eyes to see Y/N’s eyes blown wide in surprise,

“I’m in love with you. Spirits, I’m so in love with you Y/N” Zuko wished he had a camera then, because the look on Y/N’s face he wished he couple capture forever. He tried to memorize the details of her face, the way her eyes sparkled in the star light, the little gasp she let out that he could taste on his tongue, but most of all he wishes he could capture the smile she gave him. It fit her so beautifully in a way that only she could. She let out a little laugh, the one that made her nose scrunch up in the way he adored. 

“What took you so long?”  Y/N wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed all over his face, every inch she could. She kissed his lips, his cheeks, his nose, his eyes, his scar, his lips, his lips, his lips, over and over again until they were both gasping for air. Y/N’s heart was so full she felt as if it would burst at any moment. 

“In case you couldn’t tell, I love you too Zuko” Y/N giggled in between kisses. Zuko wrapped her arms around her waist pulling her closer to him. Even then he felt it wasn’t close enough. Zuko slowly felt his way up her back, trailing his fingers up her spine, touching her in the way he always wanted to. One arm remained tightly wound across her waist, while the other caressed the base of her head. Y/N gently moaned at the feeling and Zuko swallowed it. He wanted to take everything she was willing to give, nothing more and nothing less. Zuko wondered if she could feel his heart pounding in his chest, as Y/N wondered the same. 

They were in their own little world, completely oblivious to everything around them. Zuko and Y/N weren’t paying attention to the fact that they weren’t alone anymore. Neither of them heard the splash towards the other end of the dock, or cared to notice Sokka flailing in the water with Katara standing above him looking very pleased with herself.   

________________________________________________________________

A/N: FIFTY CHAPTERS AND THEY FINALLY KISS!!!!! CAN I GET A HELL YEA!!!!! This series is my baby and I'm so beyond thrilled that we made it!! I really hope you guys enjoy this chapter 💕

Tag list:

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[anncanta]

Veduta of Venice

Fandom: Dracula (2020)

Characters: Count Dracula, Zoe Van Helsing, Agatha Van Helsing

Relationship: Dracula/Zoe Van Helsing, Dracula/Agatha Van Helsing

Rating: Explicit

Veduta (Italian veduta - seen, view, picture, point of view) is a genre of Western European painting and graphics, especially popular in Venice of the 18th century.

@alma37 @hopipollahorror @ravenathantum @flutteringphalanges @ladyhaley28​ @dragatha @khyruma​

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The hotel was damp and cold, but the view was magnificent. Rising from the chair, Zoe wrapped herself tighter in a wide woolen scarf and went out onto a tiny balcony made of openwork stone.

As far as the eye could see, there was water ahead – pinkish, blue, green. Zoe had never seen so much water before. The water has never been so close. Leaning over the balcony railing, Zoe stared down at the low waves intersecting at odd angles.

Such a strange city. When she bought a tour at the agency, she was offered a choice – Verona or Venice. Zoe rejected Verona at once. And she looked at the glamorous, deliberately beautiful photos of Venice for a long time as if looking for something – either a crack in the ideal porcelain world captured on the image or ugly everyday flaws. In the end, she decided – she has nothing to lose.

The flight never seemed to end. The large iron bird seemed to hang in the sky forever, spreading its immovable wings and holding the half-asleep Zoe either in its paws or in a steel silver beak. When, to her surprise, the bird let her go, Zoe still had to get from mainland Italy deep into the archipelago. So she arrived at the hotel completely exhausted.

She burst into a spacious room that smelled of rain and prickly nights, dropped her suitcase on the floor, and stretched out on an obscenely wide bed.

And when she woke up, the sun, mother-of-pearl gray skies, and water looked out of her windows.

Zoe wasn't going to take a vacation. She worked hard and monotonously, with stubborn, dull dedication, unlike many of her workaholic colleagues – not for the sake of her own reputation and career, and not at all for show. The fact is that there was really nothing more in her life.

Zoe didn’t realize it right away. She just worked, day after day, not even always overtime. Like everyone else, she played bowling on Thursdays and had fun in pubs on Fridays. But when her friends and colleagues hurried home to their families at the end of a stormy evening Zoe, starting her old Renault, every time fought the temptation to return to the laboratory.

This went on for a long time. Months. Years. Until one day, on the eve of her fortieth birthday, Zoe realized that the desire to go back to work after a party with friends was her only temptation.

For some reason, this understanding frightened her so much that the next morning she was already sitting in the office of the head of the medical research center in which she worked, with an application for a vacation, and a week later – on a plane on her way to Italy.

Zoe straightened and looked at the bright scarlet sun sinking into the bay. Self-pity is not the best feeling to approach the second half of your life, she thought. Well, in general, she had nothing to feel sorry for herself. She was lonely – but she always had more or less enough of her own company, with the rare addition of a friend or two to chat with over the weekend. She did not have an impressive career – although many of her colleagues at the center, who discussed at tea the young doctor, who had managed to make several breakthrough discoveries by the age of thirty-five, could argue with this. Success in science is an unpopular success. Nothing to brag about. Zoe chuckled out of the corner of her mouth. And she had absolutely no idea what to do next, and for that matter – why all this was needed.

On the other hand, why not?

Would she have died of some kind of blood cancer, she would have made a sort of a romantic heroine, Zoe thought irritably as she closed the balcony.

At the foot of the building, somewhere far, far away, muddy water was rustling and foaming.

***

Zoe bought a complete tour, which included a full package of services, so she did not choose a hotel. Maybe if she did, she would spend time looking for something more comfortable and not so boring, she mused as she walked down to the restaurant for lunch. During the week and a half that Zoe spent here, nothing happened in the hotel that could conditionally pass for entertainment. Don't consider the other guests as such, she chuckled mentally. On the stairs and in the corridors, there were mostly gloomy gray-haired couples and girls of dubious appearance. Sometimes a jazz band played in the lobby in the evenings.

There wasn`t a soul to be seen in the bright and quiet hall – except for a tall man in black, sitting in the far corner at the piano. Leaning over the keyboard, the man absentmindedly fingered the keys, pulling out the notes one at a time. Zoe smiled at the metaphor that crossed her mind and turned around and headed there instead of the restaurant.

In the niche in which the piano was hidden, only one small lamp burned, giving a soft yellow-orange light. Falling obliquely on the keyboard and the lid, it snatched out of the half-light a man's back and shoulder, tightened in a classic black suit, the outlines of the profile and hands with large fingers.

Approaching, Zoe leaned on the piano and for a while, just stood listening to the music. Now, being near, she could finally understand what was wrong with this music – the stranger played skillfully and cleanly, but the melody, its very fabric, seemed... vulnerable and fragile as if the pianist was painfully remembering it or composing it on the go. Zoe watched as his hands gently touch the keys as if asking about something – and finding no answer.

‘You haven't played for a long time,’ she said softly.

‘Very long,’ he raised his head. For a moment, his face – beautiful, pale, with dark eyes and well-defined lips – remained relaxed. Then he brushed aside a straight strand of black hair that had fallen on his forehead and looked at Zoe. And then a strange expression appeared in his gaze – bewildered, amazed... looking. This happens with those who have met someone whom they have long lost hope of seeing. Zoe could bet that he was about to say something, but at the last moment, he resisted. He turned away again and continued to play.

‘My… teacher was pretty good,’ an ironic note slipped through his low voice, ‘but I'm afraid I’m lacking in practice. What do you think?’ The stranger again raised his eyes to Zoe.

‘I like your manner,’ she said carefully. ‘Have you just arrived?’ she asked for some unknown reason.

‘Yes, yesterday,’ said the man. ‘Always wanted to go to Venice,’ he added slowly. ‘To this... city of dreams.’

Zoe smiled involuntarily. Looking at his hands, which were still on the keyboard, she suddenly imagined with amazing clarity how fingers stroking the keys touch her skin. Imagined how they touch her neck, shoulders, pass along the shoulder blades, move to the waist, barely noticeable, but confidently increasing the pressure. Turning away, Zoe blinked.

The momentary rush of embarrassment, however, disappeared as quickly as it had arisen. What are you here for, Zoe, she asked herself. Not to sit in the room in the evenings with a glass of Tokaj and picture suffering, are you? Take a look at this piece of masculine beauty and make the most of what he promises. If he promises, of course.

‘ – at dinner tonight?’ Zoe woke up and looked at her interlocutor. Judging by his look, he was perfectly aware of what she was thinking and did not seem to mind. ‘If I understood correctly, there will be dances after dinner.’

Zoe nodded.

‘It's always like this here on Fridays. If you're looking for entertainment, there is hardly a better case,’ she said, looking him in the eye. ‘The season has just ended.’

The man silently shook his head.

‘I’ll come,’ he answered, standing up. He bowed graciously, intending to leave, and suddenly turned around. ‘What is your name?’

Again this strange seeking expression, a poignant mixture of despair and hope. And mockery – not at her, at himself.

‘Zoe Van Helsing,’ she said. Amazement flashed in his dark eyes but then disappeared.

‘Count Dracula,’ he said, shaking her outstretched hand. ‘See you at dinner, Zoe Van Helsing.’

***

For the upcoming evening, Zoe prepared carefully. After scrapping several spectacularly low-cut dresses, she settled on blue jeans and a light blue blouse. ‘If he is a real Count,’ her pride chuckled, ‘you will hardly be able to surprise him.’ Well, she didn't intend to.

‘I want to have a good time,’ Zoe muttered, glancing at herself in the mirror of an antique carved dressing table. She washed off the mascara from her eyelashes, which she diligently dyed five minutes ago, then, after short thinking, wiped a thin layer of lipstick from her lips. Zoe used makeup a little and only on special occasions, but it was not a lack of habit or awkwardness that made her get rid of it now. She could not explain to herself why, but she was sure that the best choice for meeting the Count was naturalness.

The hotel restaurant was unusually full: probably dancing inspired not only her, moving to one of the few free tables – at the exit to the terrace – Zoe thought. Sitting at the table and ordering a glass of Chianti, she turned her face to the light wind blowing from the ajar doors.

The bay shone in shades of blue, pink, and dove. Small waves broke up, catching the lighted lanterns. Zoe heard how music was born and tried its power in the hall. The wind became a little cooler. The waiter brought her Chianti.

She could have sat like that all evening, Zoe thought after the third or fifth sip. The music became louder and a little braver. Zoe decided that she might need more wine.

‘You promised me a dance.’

‘When did I?’ Zoe turned around.

Pause.

‘One hundred twenty-three years ago.’

She chuckled.

‘What a precision. And what a tactlessness!’

‘I beg your pardon?’

He was dressed in the same classic black suit as when they first met, and just like when they first met, she wanted this suit off him immediately. Zoe nodded to his questioning glance in the direction of the chair opposite and said, putting down her glass:

‘You just hinted at my age?’

‘No way,’ Dracula responded with mock horror. His eyes flashed with a mixture of irony and melancholy. ‘Never mind, this is... a personal joke.’

The orchestra fell silent behind them. One by one, the instruments stopped playing, as if they were disappearing into the shadows, yielding to the only remaining violin.

Zoe finished her wine. She felt like crying. Determination and frivolity vanished, and anger with herself remained.

‘I –’ she began, but Dracula interrupted her.

‘You promised me a dance.’

She watched him get up and walk over to her. Taking his hand, she rose and allowed him to lead her to a small dance floor in the opposite corner. She saw him making a sign to the musicians, heard the first chords sounded, then he pulled her to him and velvetly ran his hand along her back.

Everything floated somewhere: Venice, the damp smell of canals, a shade of raw plaster, which seemed to cover everything and everyone in this city, a draft coming from everywhere; pink-blue sky. Closed, sharply defined lips and dark, demanding eyes.

Music came from somewhere with dry clicks, crumbling on them beat by beat and measuring their steps. Piano – thunderstorm, monotonous rain, wet asphalt, water on San Marco. Pigeons flutter out from under her feet. Fractional flashes of droplets gather in puddles, a violin steps carefully over them, creeps in, displaces other sounds, and again remains alone. Freezes, kissing her forehead. And everything freezes with it.

...They took the elevator for ages. Squeezing his hand, Zoe watched the numbers change on the scoreboard on the wall. When the number three finally lit upon it, it seemed to her: a little more, and she simply could not stand it. They got to the room, and holding the key card to the door, she was surprised – it does not open until it dawned on her: not her suit. The door opened, closed behind her. Zoe leaned back on it, lifted her head.

Dracula leaned over to her and took her face in his hands. Zoe stood silently, motionless. Closing her eyes, she held her breath, feeling the touch of his lips, then – the tongue. Snuggling up to him, she grabbed him by the neck. He ran his hands over her body, finding, squeezed the nipples through the fabric. He pulled her blouse from the belt and ducked under it with his palm. Exactly how she fantasized... a long time ago... yes, this... afternoon. Twitching impatiently, Zoe swung her hips, her jeans button digging into his stomach. He pulled away, turning her, pressed her to the door again, tore off the button, zipper, and put his hand into her panties. Zoe buried her forehead against the door with a groan. His fingers caressed her harshly and roughly, without ceremony, tormenting her, not allowing her to escape. Zoe finished, breathing out a soundless scream.

Grasping her from behind, Dracula waited until she calmed down, turned her around, ran his fingers over her cheeks, erasing the lines of tears. He pulled her into the room, along with him, to the bed.

Lying on her back, Zoe listened to the disturbed world rebuilding within her body. She smiled at Dracula, who had time to put his clothes somewhere and bent over her. Now his touch was gentle, fleetingly teasing as if he was asking for forgiveness for the recent explosion. Zoe lifted herself up and slid into his arms – and gasped as he rolled onto his back, swapping them.

Zoe loved sex and found partners easily. Many of them were passionate and skillful. But she never really wanted to be on top. She shifted in embarrassment. She wasn't even sure she understood how...

She did not have time to think out the thought: grabbing her by the waist, Dracula slowly lowered her onto himself. And it was so good and... accurately, that Zoe bit her lip with acute pleasure. Dracula waited a couple more moments, lifted her, froze. Zoe frowned in bewilderment. He smiled and moved his hips. Once, twice. The third – slower, then faster, and in the same order – again. Arching, she trembled – and when his fingers found her clitoris, everything became unimportant, there were only moans and sighs in the darkness.

…

‘Would you like some coffee?’ Zoe asked. Dracula, hugging her with both arms and absentmindedly running his fingers over her stomach, shook his head.

‘I don’t drink... coffee,’ he replied, and there was distant anxiety in his voice. Zoe nodded nonchalantly as she climbed out of bed, wrapped her dressing gown, and walked over to the table.

‘It's cold,’ she said, looking into the coffee pot. Well, the coffee was brought in yesterday. She turned to Dracula, who was sitting on the bed. He was disheveled and looked at her in a strange way. ‘I'll order a new one.’ Stepping to the balcony, Zoe opened the glass door and breathed in the morning air.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Dracula get up and approach her.

The sky was still gray, but somewhere in the distance birds were already awakening. Zoe turned to Dracula – and froze, bumping into a sharp, focused gaze.

He stood naked in front of her, and there was something very familiar about it – not because of last night, but different.

‘Sorry.’

He grabbed her with lightning speed, so that she did not have time to recoil or cry out, hugged her again – and something happened.

Zoe felt herself trembling and swaying, slipping and falling into an unknown direction. Everything blurred, and before her eyes flashed pictures – an iron grate, a torch thrown to the ground, the smell of burnt wool, a nun's dress, and blood. Swaying, salty air, captain at the helm, shouts, shadows on the deck, and another fire. An explosion, the smell of fresh gunpowder tickling her nostrils, a man's face distorted by rage bending over her.

Agatha recoiled, gasping for air, and finally screamed when she realized what he was doing.

‘Agatha, it`s over!’ Reality fell on her and struck from all sides at once, stunning. ‘That's all, Agatha!’ Dracula hugged her, holding her. She struggled, trembling, bursting into sobs. ‘Sorry,’ he repeated when she was exhausted and quieted down. ‘Sorry, I had to make sure.’

He let her go, and she, moving away, climbed onto the bed, huddled like a wounded animal. She wrapped herself tighter in her dressing gown, which miraculously still remained on her. She leaned back on the pillow and cried softly. Dracula silently sat down on the other side of the bed.

‘You survived,’ Agatha said without looking at him.

‘I did,’ said Dracula. ‘I just slept for a hundred and twenty years. Then I woke up and saw around... all this. But I liked it, you know.’

Agatha didn't answer. She didn't want details. She wanted to close her eyes and not open them for another hundred years.

‘How many have you eaten?’ she said dismissively.

‘Agatha, you worked at the research medical center,’ Dracula's voice sounded annoyed. ‘Do you know who the donors are? These are special people who donate blood, eggs, and sperm.’ He paused. ‘And there is Tinder, besides.’

Agatha felt her head begin to throb heavily.

‘How is this possible?’ she asked hoarsely. Turning, she looked at Dracula. Dracula didn't answer. ‘It’s the twenty-seventh of October two thousand and twenty,’ Agatha said with an effort. ‘I ate toast for breakfast. My blood type is the first negative. I don't like grapes and I love bananas. Last year I went to Islamabad. I remember the life of Zoe Van Helsing!’ she shouted; her voice rang out again.

Dracula was silent, and somehow that silence helped calm the storm that was raging inside her. Agatha looked around the room, looked at the bed, and at Dracula. She breathed in without a sound. Her body was still agitated, still keenly aware of what they were doing together. How could she do this – with him?

‘You remember the life of Zoe Van Helsing because you were her,’ she heard Dracula's voice. Agatha looked at him incredulously. ‘Her life was real. From the very first day. And at the same time, from the very first day, it was you.’

Getting up, Agatha walked to the balcony and leaned against the glass of the door. She frowned at Dracula.

‘It is believed that reincarnation,’ he said, ‘is always a new personality. In rebirth, a person begins a completely different life. And in most cases, apparently, it is. But it happens... it happens very rarely that the former personality turns out to be so strong that it displaces or does not let the new one in, and a conflict arises between them. I heard about this maybe two hundred years ago from some Arab doctor.

Agatha listened in silence.

‘The problem is,’ Dracula continued, ‘that two consciousnesses cannot get along in one human body. Such a split cannot last forever.’ He made a pause. ‘Have you ever been diagnosed with... what is it called now... cancer?’

‘Some years ago. I was in the hospital. Suspicion of leukemia,’ Agatha said in surprise. ‘Not confirmed. Zoe... I've seen the tests. But Z... I'm not an oncologist. I figured it was just a mistake. Someone confused the tubes.’

Dracula stared at her wordlessly.

‘Now, yes, that's a mistake,’ he said and stood up. In the split second after his words, something changed in his face and gaze, and in the room. Standing in place, Agatha watched him approach, stretches out his hands to her, opens her dressing gown. Already when he is very close, holding her between himself and the glass, raises her hips, and enters, she remembers that he is still naked.

Looking into her eyes, he pushes into her body, hard, rough, and deep. She has nowhere to go, not to hide, she should be disgusted and ashamed, she should be hurt, in the end, but she only moans and, shuddering, leans back.

The despair in his movements melts, smears out, he gets out of her, carries her to the bed. He enters again, leaning on his hands, continues, at the only point in contact with her. Agatha cums from this alone, and sweet spasms are still poured in her – while he lets her go, while he searches for his things, finds them, while dresses and, buttoned-up, walks to the door.

Agatha is unable to move, she feels at the same time heavy and light, but her thoughts and feelings are more clear than ever. She turns and holds out her hand.

‘Don't go.’

[captainsimagines]

To Topple A Giant || Chapter Seven

Summary: You had made it your mission to destroy even the smallest evils. When the opportunity arises to finally take down your own family after years of gaining their trust, you reach for it. And so does Steve, the man who represents a symbol of everything you hate.

Pairing(s): Steve Rogers x Reader || Avengers x Reader

Part 7 of 10 ~ Mini-Series

Warnings: This story contains mature themes and discussions such as extreme canon violence, strong language, emotional angst, mentions of Endgame deaths and recoveries, sexual situations, and emotional/physical abuse. This is purely fanfiction.

Warnings in this Chapter: abusive parental relationship; strong language; canon-level violence (explosions); mentions of alcohol poisoning; mention of Infinity War/Endgame deaths; perceived domestic partner abuse (no such thing actually happens!); concussions and minor injuries; mentions of arranged marriages; mentions of drug smuggling and human smuggling; lying; ANGST!

Word Count: 14,100+

A/N: So close to the finish line...

~

Spain, 2024, 5:07 pm.

    “Get the damn ice cream, Peter. I’m not holding you back.”

The kid sped down the sidewalk as fast as his feet would let him, skips in his steps and ignoring the chastising yells from Bucky. 

“You’re letting him have sugar?” Bucky whines, sluggish in his own steps. The Spanish summer sun was blaring, burning your forehead and building the same cold craving in your throat. It was just the three of you, carefree but melting, happy but annoyed with the constant proximity of each other. The villa (if you could call it that, it was more of a cottage) was listed as having three rooms - not the two you were stuck with. Bucky was at the last inch of self-control, begging you to switch with him - if only for one night - because ‘the kid fuckin’ talks in his sleep, doll! One more night and I might smother him.’

It was Bucky’s idea to take a little vacation. A year after the blip and only a few months after Peter’s world was turned upside down, a vacation seemed like the best choice. Preferably somewhere that was quiet and somewhat rural - somewhere you guys won’t be easily recognized. 

So the three of you packed and flew across the pond. In all honesty, you hadn’t even told the rest of the team where you were going besides Wanda. One day you were greeting them in the common room and preparing lunch, the other you were throwing your suitcase in one of the two vacant rooms in this little Spanish cottage. The three of you were truly off the map in terms of late notice. 

“Let the kid live. He’s having a mid-life crisis at eighteen.”

“I’ve had more mid-life crisis’s than his age combined. He’s not special.” The pointed look on your face had Bucky sighing in small defeat. “Okay, okay.”

These past two weeks in shared solitude, even if this trip was supposed to be relaxing, was beginning to melt into a tiresome routine. Well, just nights. The days were mild at best. And to make matters worse, you and Bucky had been dodging the team’s calls, messages that you left for voicemail. Bucky had clicked ‘end call’ more times than he could count and his excuse was always, ‘ the kid doesn’t want to leave, doll.’ Even annoyed with Peter, Bucky wanted only the best. 

It was only a matter of time until your phones were tracked and you were forced to come home. Everyone probably knew where you were anyway - you weren’t exactly hiding. But since you already got a good two weeks in, you figured they had taken some sympathy. 

“Think we can get him to visit a museum today or something?”

Bucky shrugged, lining up at the coffee stand near the ice cream cart. “Saw him checking out banana bread recipes last night. Seems more like a baking day.”

You could go for some banana bread. Ordering two iced coffees and making more miscellaneous small talk while waiting for Peter to order, you studied the streets of Spain. The country had suffered greatly when, cruelly, more than half their population disappeared. Left in proper ruins, no one believed it would ever recover. But then there was an election, a change in the structural government, and it just… did. They rebuilt themselves better than any country had, in your opinion. 

It was a rather calm day with minimal people out and about. It was exactly what you guys deserved after every mission - in your case, after a long month of PR recovery after that bar fight alongside Sam. 

“You bake, Barnes?”

He smiled fully, “Any chance I get.”

“You guys want anything?” Peter yelled out, bouncing lightly on his heels as he waited. You waved him off. “You sure? It’s pretty cheap for summer prices!”

After rejecting Peter’s dozen ice cream questions and offers, the three of you decided the heat was a little too much to bear, even with sunscreen. Peter spoke most of the way. Something about that banana bread.

Bucky, being the baker, helped him choose the best recipe of the four Peter had bookmarked and soon the kitchen was only half dirty with eggs and mashed bananas.

“What do you mean a cup of baking soda, kid? Use your eyes,” Bucky yelled in second hand embarrassment. “I don’t think a cup of baking soda goes in anything.”

“Read right here, dude,” Peter poked at his tablet. “A cuuuu... okay. Okay, I see what I read wrong.”

“You two better be making me some good ass banana bread today. I don’t want to throw up!” You had opted to let the two men have their fun in the kitchen. You tried to bake, but you were more of a cook than anything else.

“You could be reading out the directions.”

“I could do a lot of things,” you respond with the emphasis on “could”.

The doorbell interrupted your no-so-real argument. Peter snickered, “You could get the door.”

With a displeased grunt and a straightened middle finger to the kid, you opened the door to find two people who were definitely not invited. Clint, with this magical and massive smile on his face and Steve, with his eyebrow cocked and arms crossed.

“Oh, would you look at that. Guests! Welcome to our humble abode!”

“Now, how and why?” Bucky groaned. But his actions contradict his words as he went to give Steve a hug, covered in flour and all.

“Hey, Clint,” you mumbled, purposely ignoring the super soldier side-eyeing you. “Care to tell us what you’re doing here?

Clint returned your warm smile, “See, Cap? They’re safe. Can we go now?”

Steve rolled his eyes, arms crossed over his chest in a rather demanding way. “We’re here to take them home, Clint.”

Bucky scoffs.

“Eh, you might be. But I’m here to soak up some of this Spanish sun.” A low grunt sounded in the back of Clint’s throat as he spoke. He was already making his way to pick at the mashed ingredients. 

“You heard the man, pal,” Bucky slaps Steve’s shoulder, leaving him at the door as well. Awkwardly left alone, you blow a small raspberry and step aside to let Steve in. Bucky continues, “We’re here to soak up some sun. And I’m not done soakin’.”

With great protest, Steve maneuvers Bucky away from the kitchen and into the hallway beside the master bedroom. With both super soldiers out of the way, you finally go to help Peter with mixing. “Why did he come, really?”

Clint shrugs, arms deep inside your cabinets and collecting whatever desserts you had pre-packaged. “Honestly? I think he missed you guys.”

“All this drama because he misses Bucky? He could have just shown up declaring truce and had a nice little vacation,” you mumbled, glaring at Steve from behind. 

“Think he felt like he needed an excuse to even show up. But they really are asking for you guys back home. Threatened to arrest your ass.”

“Lucky me.”

You could make out snippets of their tiny argument up ahead. 

‘You could have called.’

‘You haven’t been answering the phone, Buck.’

‘I’ve been relaxing.’

A heavy sigh. 

‘I just thought we told each other everything.’

‘Believe it or not, Steve… but I’ve got more friends now. Isn’t that what you wanted? I’m not trying to ignore you, I - I just needed to help another friend out this time.’

Peter, with great care, washes his hands and makes sure there aren't any random mashes of banana on his clothing before he side-steps you and Clint to interrupt the very ‘private’ conversation between the super soldiers. “Hey, Mr. Steve- Cap, hey.”

Steve immediately lets his hard gaze falter. “Hey, kid. You doin’ good?”

Peter nods in response. 

“He’s doing great! Much needed vacation that still isn’t over.”

“Buck.”

Inserting yourself may not have been the best option. “Give it up, Rogers. We’re on vacation. And until the kid says he’s ready to go home, we go home.”

Peter fumbles, “Oh, please don’t put me on the spot like that. I’m not good with confrontation.”

Bucky quickly answers before Steve can, “It’s not confrontation, Peter. We love being out here and if it’s helping your mental health, we’re not going to take that away from you.”

Steve blinks and his expression looks like one of hurt. “You think I wanna do that? The literal president has been asking for your location. You’re not allowed to leave the country.”

You shrug, “Well, no one told me that.”

“Buck, you were just granted immunity three months ago. And you go and drop off the face of the earth?”

“I’m literally in Spain.”

Steve blinks again. He really can’t believe he’s got to deal with two people with similar personalities. “Your point?”

“On Earth…?”

Clint decides to make his presence known. He has even inserted the poured batter into the glass tray for you guys. “Why don’t we just stay with ‘em, Cap? God knows you need a vacation, too.”

“We have two rooms. You’d be bunking on the floor,” you say, pointing to random areas on the floor.

Clint waves his hand in the air, “Not the worst place I’ve slept in.”

“I’m being hounded day and night to bring you three home.” Steve looks about ready to burst into tears of frustration.

“Turn off your phone?”

Steve whips his head and stomps to close the few feet of distance between the two of you. “You really think it’s that easy? You really think I wasn’t worried when my two best friends just disappeared one night and didn’t tell me?”

Two.

Best. 

Friends. 

Before you could even comment, Bucky puts on the dramatics.  “We ran away together, Stevie. We meant to tell you.”

Steve takes a moment, just staring at the ceiling and piecing together his thoughts. “Joke all you want, Buck. I’m bringing you home.”

“Ste-”

“No!” He’s stomping back to the front door now. “I’ve had enough! I can’t stand not knowing where you guys are all day when bad things keep happening in this world. Just… just come home.”

All is quiet besides the quiet munching of Clint and his rogue cookie. Steve’s face did this thing when he was at war with himself, anxiety crawling up his arms or panic weighing his empty stomach down. His face drained color and that perfect renaissance oil lost its blush, blended paint that turned a murky gray. A masterpiece lost in storage.

“I can take the couch,” you whisper, arms erupting in goosebumps. “You guys can stay the night and we’ll go home tomorrow, okay? Or somewhere pre-approved, I guess.”

Bucky didn’t argue. Neither did Peter. 

Steve's imaginary painter adds the softest pink back to Steve’s cheeks as you compile a mess of blankets and pillows for him.

Present Day, 2025, 7:15 am

     There’s a warmth near you as you begin to lazily shuffle against the sheets, heavy on your chest but comfortable all in all. 

There are no worries, no sudden bursts of Avenger business, no fights needing to be fought. Simply Steve warm against you with sunlight draping over his bare and freckled shoulders. 

The serum enhanced for the sole purpose of strength and survival. And sure, it healed the body quicker than the average human body could naturally, but the one thing it couldn’t do was strip personality. 

Steve had freckles splattered along his broad shoulders and down to in between his shoulder blades, light in color and all similar in size. Something a lot of people hated about themselves and tried to cover up while others tried to mimic. The serum was supposed to heal damaged skin, sunburnt areas, birthmarks, and even moles - at least, that’s what the official 1943 report had claimed. 

But over the years, Steve had continued to age and grow into his new body. And while he couldn’t get dangerously sick anymore, anything unknown could still occur. No one had the same serum as Steve and last Tony had heard, Peggy had spilled the last remnants of Steve’s original DNA (blood they took before the procedure) in the Hudson. Bucky seemed to be experiencing the same natural changes as well. 

It had been proven that neither Steve nor Bucky could carry or transmit diseases, experience abnormal cell production, nor could they develop a lifelong ailment without severe reason. 

So imagine everyone’s surprise when Clint called one morning while deep in a routine mission (somewhere in Africa, you really don’t remember) to relay the news that, ‘you guys aren’t gonna fucking believe this - yeah Rogers, I’m telling them the hilarious news right now - Steve’s appendix just up and exploded last night - hey! He just stole - hold on. Give me back my hearing aid, you abelist fuck!’. 

Steve had stretch marks on his back from the procedure, his elbow still hurt from time to time after he had snapped it a year ago, and the white scar above his right hip reminded him that even super soldiers are not exempt from the wonders of the appendix. 

His breathing was slow and his eyelids flickered. Seemed he was enjoying his first deep sleep in a while. You craned your neck to try and read the cable box across the room, slightly making out a seven in the front before you gave up. You were due for your annual eye appointment, anyway. 

Steve did have perfect eyesight though, so damn him.

You shrugged the sheets from your arms. He was on his stomach, cheek planted on your chest and right foot dangling off the side of the bed. His left arm was draped over your middle and his right was tucked inside a pillowcase. His hair draped over his forehead and some of it was still tucked behind his ears. 

Careful to not wake him, you gently traced the ridge of his nose with your index finger, resting it on the tip that always turned bright pink regardless of mood. Once at the end, you went back up to trace it again. 

“Beak,” you whispered more to yourself, and you bit your lip to suppress the overwhelming urge to giggle. 

Steve was here, next to and near you, and he was so warm. 

You could have stayed in bed for hours, sleeping and cuddling and fucking, and you would bet your left kidney that Steve wanted that too. It was impossible to question it, it had to be, because Steve was too genuine. You had met hundreds of men in your life: some the literal devil, some cowards, some reserved, and rarely, some genuine at heart. Steve fit some category that didn’t even exist. 

You wanted to love him and hate him. You wanted to make love and fuck him. You wanted to kiss him and annoy him. He checked a box that didn’t exist but that you would just have to reserve for him. The annoying little shit who could lift Thor’s hammer. 

The door almost ripped off its hinges by the brute force of someone’s leg. You didn’t even fully register being crushed by Steve until his elbow stabbed you right in the gut. 

“Rogers!” you groaned in pain and half trying to reach for your pistol on the bedside table. 

There was a collective gasp of surprise (and maybe terror) from the people that just broke down your door. After yesterday’s unplanned run-in with Ramirez, no doubt this was called-for.

“Oh, hell…” Sam grumbled, lowering his gun the second he realized two of his friends were sharing one bed. “Lemme guess, the other bed’s mattress was too firm but this one’s just right.”

Bucky stood behind him, a knowing smirk plastered on his smug face. He looked between you and Steve, ignoring the way Scott was practically pulling his shoulder down in pure fits of laughter. Didn’t take much for Scott to tip himself over and almost drag Bucky down with him. 

“Couldn’t you knock?” Steve nearly yelled, body still trying to shield yours even though you were fully dressed. You were struggling to push him away in pure embarrassment, but he seemed intent with this form of protection. 

“You weren’t answering your phone! We changed our check-in times to seven instead of eight, remember?”

Steve, ever the gentleman, brought the sheets up higher for you and finally lifted himself out of bed. 

And Bucky, ever the gentleman who has been spending way too much time with Clint, nodded his head toward you. “You two fuck?”

Mouth dropping in humiliation, you pulled the sheets up over your head and screamed into the temporary cover. Steve sputtered over whatever explanation he was thinking of pulling out of his ass. 

“You two fucked,” Bucky smugly confirmed. 

Steve pulled on the nearest shirt and went to kick Scott, who was ‘criss-cross apple-sauced’ on the floor and laughing way too loudly. “Is it really any of your business?”

“Man, that’s an answer!” Sam was about to fall into the same fit as Scott. 

Annoyed, and fueled by that annoyance, you ripped the sheets off and marched for the bathroom. “You really want to know, you nosy little fucks? We did fuck and he made me come three times. Ask him how, I’m sure he’ll teach you a thing or two, no matter how embarrassed he may seem right now.”

You left him alone. You literally just exposed him and you left him alone with the wolves. 

All was quiet until Sam blew a small raspberry. “Three times?”

     Bucky didn’t need to speak to show he was about to tease the hell out of you. He simply sipped his coffee until he emptied it, and then refilled it. You couldn’t even finish a single mug yet because you were waiting to break the tension. 

Looking around the hotel bar because he still valued your privacy, Bucky made sure to keep his voice low. “Three times?”

Half wanting to slap the smirk off his face and the other half wanting to announce Steve’s naughty accomplishment, you settled for pouring more coffee into your mug. 

“Don’t you dare hold what I said against me, I literally had just woken up.”

“Mm, yeah. I remember how you literally moaned Thor’s name when you were startled awake from a nap in the living room.”

“Bucky!” you yelled, turning your shoulders inwards when you received a few odd looks from other early risers. Well, some were early risers. The person closest to the door was an agent, as was the other eating breakfast at the bar. “You promised you would never mention that again!”

He shook his head with amusement, “I can’t believe you swore me to secrecy when Loki basically told everyone.”

“He-!” Choking on your own spit, you slid lower into your booth. “That mischievous, conniving, son of a bitch.”

“In all honesty, I think that was his way of flirting with you.”

“Telling everyone I had a wet dream about his brother?”

“Oh, you wouldn’t be the first.”

You smirked, “Oh, trust me. I know.”

Bucky squinted, guilty in his spoken words. “All I’m saying is, it’s nice that you didn’t just write Steve off with us, as if nothing happened.”

It made your heart swell that even in a moment with you, Bucky would still always protect Steve. 

“I would never. We actually talked last night and he really apologized.”

“Really?” His eyes were hopeful. 

“He did. And as cliche as it sounds, one thing led to another.”

You realized your earlier words were contradictory when Bucky sighed sadly, “This better not have been a one time thing. I’ll strangle you both.”

You scoffed and finally took a piece of that blueberry muffin on your plate. “Screw you, Barnes. It’s Steve we’re talking about. I’d give him the world if I could.”

That made Bucky blush. “God, I’m stupidly happy for him. I always said he’d need to find a dame who had as big of a mouth as he does.”

Rolling your eyes, you offered him some of that muffin. He gladly broke off a piece. “Don’t go marrying us off just yet.”

“Doll, he almost imploded when we discovered you slept together. Teasing him about proposing might just kill him.”

You laughed at that. Although Steve had admitted he regretted the time you lost, there wasn’t any chance he would push you any further. He was probably comfortable with taking things slow, no matter the history. You had that in common. 

“Seems we’re all just gonna have to make sure we don’t cause his demise.”

Smiling as he chewed, Bucky played with your feet under the table. Safe moments like these always occurred before a mission, no matter how simple or heavy they were. And like people love to say, you never fought with each other before. Just in case. 

Going to bed angry was another thing entirely. That, the whole team was proficient in. 

“You ready for tonight?”

Yesterday had definitely turned you against the very concept of family reunions, what with the small ache between your shoulders. You were angry with Seda, with Ernesto, disappointed with Ramirez, and neutral toward your sister. 

God, your sister. This would be the first time since you left Mexico for school and SHIELD that you would be seeing her, as well as your other siblings. Jackeline was perhaps the only sibling you had some real memories with. Everyone else was already deep in the business or far away from the chaos. The team only knew of two other siblings who rsvp’d. The others: radio silence. 

“Part of me just wants a normal family wedding. I’m kinda hoping we can just end it all tonight.”

“Be careful what you wish for,” Bucky chuckled, finishing off your muffin for you. “You’ll get some closure soon enough.”

There was no such thing as closure. Just less of a constant sting. 

“Bucky,” you spoke seriously now. “My father made Steve sign something yesterday.”

“He told us at the debrief yesterday.”

“When did you have a debrief?”

Bucky scooted in his booth, quickly explaining. “Uh well, it wasn’t so much of a debrief as it was a simple overview. Just a heads up.”

You tilted your head, somewhat unconvinced. “Uh-huh… but we could void it, right? He had a fucking notary there and everything.”

“We can declare it void, yeah Y/N,” he grabbed your hand over the table. “He won’t get tangled in this.”

With a heavy sigh, you gripped Bucky’s hand tighter. “I’m really glad you guys are gonna help us.”

He returned your smile. “Anything for family.”

Family. 

After all these years of self-hatred and despising your own blood, you blinded yourself of the simple truth that you already had a real family. Whether you were accepted after Sokovia, or after you helped Steve escape with Bucky, or after those long five years, you were accepted. And you accepted them right back. 

    The briefing goes as expected. Didn’t seem like anyone was going to live down the now obvious fact that you and Steve had slept together after years of unnoticed pining. You simply took the teasing in stride, better than Steve even, who stuffed his face full of chips in embarrassment.

The plan was simple but ever-evolving. The three of them will hang back: Bucky at the hotel, Scott and Sam at the nearby base with Torres. The base was fifteen minutes from the estate, hidden behind those same pine trees but the perfect cover - it was a nearby diner. Steve will still take the shield, FRIDAY was installed on your personal phones, and any weapons you attached to your person were specifically made to deter metal detectors. Once in, it was mingle, mingle, mingle.

There were going to be a thousand questions to answer: What in the world is Captain America doing here? Is he here to cause trouble? Are you two seriously dating? So, Captain America being one of us means holding Thor’s hammer was a myth, aye?

Then you would move on to the more important guests. Jackeline’s greeting would be more of a reunion. But flying under and over the radar had to walk the same line - you needed to mix in with the crowd and make sure they see you participating, but then escape for a little while to continue the mission.

Once in, the task was to electronically and physically retrieve everything Scott didn’t have time to yesterday, plus the new information Ernesto got for today and tomorrow. His latest emails, list of contacts, checks, birth certificates, video evidence.

“Do we all know our duties?”

You wanted to wrap up Steve’s commanding voice and keep it a special secret, a secret that was yours and the team’s to share.

“We got it, Cap. For the tenth time this week - you two okay?”

Sam was rewarded with a slanted smile. “Everytime you ask me that, I’ll lie.”

He nods, “At least you admit it. You’re not alone in this.”

“For years,” you continued, “It’s been that way. I guess I’m both ready for it to end and not. I want them behind bars. I don’t want the repercussions.”

“Makes sense,” Bucky agrees. “At least part of the fight will be over.”

Beside you, Steve clenches his jaw. “We’re always fighting.”

Bucky grins at him, “Yeah.” There’s a sparkle in his eye as he leans forward to squeeze Steve’s thigh. “At least it’s not with each other anymore.”

     They weren’t lying when they said vibranium was lightweight. Felt different from nano-tech and was an obvious change from your regular body suit. You felt protected and stylish. Good, because even though you weren’t obligated to impress those vultures, there were still a few cousins and extended family members you wanted compliments from. And?

The black turtleneck was warmer than you expected and didn’t strangle you. You were a bundle of velvet bliss right now. The cuffs were a golden brown, completely made from vibranium. Modeling in the mirror, you whispered a few ‘pew-pew’s as you blocked pretend bullets. C’mon, golden bracelets? You were basically Wonder Woman. 

The tights were your own, thin and black and you could still see there were faint bruises on your knees from training. Once all that was situated, you pulled on the long skirt and tucked in the bottom of your shirt, glad the way the high-waisted design sucked everything in. The skirt was the same golden brown as the cuffs, shorter in the front and wavy as it draped down the back, barely reaching your ankles. You tied the skirt’s belt in a tight bow and pulled on the black boots Shuri had also sent you. The heel was thick and short, and the boot was pretty tight around the top of your ankle. 

Time was ticking on that well-deserved goody basket you were meaning to send to the royal siblings. 

Hoop earrings, three rings dressing your left hand, a simple golden necklace - now you need to do your hair and make-up. 

Steve was just patiently waiting for his turn in the bathroom, bless his heart. 

     “Scott said the files are in his personal belongings. We suspect he’s planning to smuggle over fifty people tomorrow. Their records should be hidden away in those belongings, too.” 

Sam always kept a leveled head in dire situations like these. He was rational and helpful, always waited until the job was done and everyone was safe before he had a drink or a cry. It was safest, perhaps the most fair thing the Avengers could do for the public after destroying half the cities they fought in. The media didn’t need to know about the late-night fights, alcohol poisoning, or frequent therapy sessions. Your coping methods were all different - Steve has no doubt Sam will immediately pack an overnight bag and Bucky to visit his sister and nephews once the wedding concluded. 

Steve? Well, Steve was surprisingly calm, all things considered. 

“You get any hits yet? Anything from Ramirez that could help us find those people sooner?”

Sam sighs sadly, shaking his head. “It’s looking like we’re heading into a full-on fight.”

That’s not what Steve wanted to hear. A ‘full-on’ fight almost always had accidents, misfires, innocent casualties, and a few cuts and scrapes to add to his own personal collection. 

“Sam,” Steve puts down the files in his hand and shuts off his monitor to signal he’s done researching for the night. “I really don’t know how to thank you.”

“You know,” Sam smiles at him, “I’m gettin’ real tired hearin’ you say that.”

Steve huffs out a laugh. Sam gently exhales - Steve can feel it. 

“You two really are the same.” Sam points at Steve and to the bathroom door. “Always apologizing for shit you can’t control.”

Steve looks down to his feet, a blush in his pale cheeks. After failing to clip his cufflinks on his own, he holds his arms out to Sam who happily clips them for him. 

“Is it real?”

Steve pauses. He doesn’t really need to think about it because he knows. He’s known for a while even if he was on autopilot. The pause only serves to help him catch his breath from the happy prickle that crawls up his spine. “As real as second chances go.”

Sam laughs and claps his shoulder, “I get it. We seem to get a hell of a lotta those.”

      Now that the mission was truly kicking into gear, fucking full speed ahead, Steve had no other choice but to pull shreds of Captain America from that metaphorical attic of his. Took everything in him to revert back, never fully, and each time would be different from the last. Sometimes it was mentally draining being responsible for a whole team and creating the plans, other times he regretfully felt like a colonizer, an intruder who followed orders from the top and was forced to execute them. This time around, he was stepping into uncharted territory, but still familiar, and he had a million roles to mime. 

“Steeeve.”

His smile was instant and he gravitated to your voice. “Hmm?”

“So, I have an idea for a hairstyle,” you reply, throwing open the bathroom door with a brush in one hand and the other holding the top layers of your hair up. “I got enough hair for it.”

“Tell me about it. It gets in the way of everything.”

“Haha.” You rolled your eyes, still trying to shovel more hair higher. “I curled it, so all I gotta do is tug this upper half up into a ponytail while the rest stays down. But can you help? My shoulders still hurt and I haven’t taken my advil yet.”

Steve shuffles back into the room to grab you two pills before he replaces his hands with yours. “So, just lift it up?”

You hum confirmation, watching Steve in the mirror as he pulled your thick curls higher, snapped the hair tie between his teeth, and tied it all. He pulled the strands outward so the high curls still fell around your face. The hairstyle would have been easier with extensions (for a much fuller look) but if you had to throw your body around these next two days, you’d rather save yourself the embarrassment of having them pulled off. 

“Thank you,” you blush. These moments were so intimate, so sweet, just you and Steve. “You need any help?”

Steve looks down at himself. He had already tied his own tie. He could style his own hair and comb his beard. “I think I’m good. Forgot to pack cologne, though.”

“I’ve got some perfume in my suitcase. There should be one in there that isn’t too flowery.”

Steve rolls his eyes and turns to leave. “Not really a problem, doll.”

Pulling on his suit jacket and reaching for your suitcase to set it on the bed, he miscalculated the balance he was so obviously lacking. Instead of toppling head first himself, he fumbles your suitcase and spills its contents on your bed. He stills for a second, looking to the closed bathroom door to see if you popped your head through to ask what the hell that sound was. But it remained closed, and Steve silently groaned because of his clumsiness. 

He tries his best to roll the clothing items back in, cursing whenever he would accidentally squeeze a perfume bottle you had hidden in there. He counted three. The one he picks smells like roses.

Amongst the ruins he finds your passport, multiple IDs, and two pairs of sunglasses. He chuckles to himself and thinks, we’ve been here for four days and she hasn’t worn these once.

A torn piece of paper stood out from the pile, folded neatly in its own envelope but still damaged. 

     CLINT

Curious, Steve opens the envelope, wholeheartedly expecting to find the written contents from the archer himself, but pauses when he reads the simple sentence, in your handwriting. 

‘After careful deliberation, I have come to the conclusion that I want you to have all my video games.’

If Steve didn’t know any better, and judging by the multiple other letters peeking through the torn tape from the corner of your suitcase, it sounded like a goodbye letter.

“What’s taking so long?”

Startled, Steve shoves the letter under the pile of clothes. “Uh, my clumsy ass spilled your clothes everywhere so I’m being good and fixing everything.”

“...annoying.”

Still, you stayed inside the bathroom.

He glanced back just to make sure. And he knew he shouldn’t be snooping, the guilt was already eating away at him, but he now noticed the lump under the torn tape and another envelope poking through. 

They were all signed for different people. Bucky, Wanda, Peter, Rhodey - 

The devil on his shoulder drowned the cries of the angel. 

Opening his, he prays for his quick reading skills to aid him before you realized what he was doing.       

Steve, 

     Believe when I say that I thought I would put a bullet in my father before he could. Whoops…

I don’t really know why I’m writing these letters besides the thrill of morbidity for my untimely death or because I’m an amateur writer on the side. I never know what to say to you, anyway. Whether it’s in person or on paper. I’ve got a hundred drawn-up speeches in my head I almost say to you. But they don’t come out when I want them to and it seems a bit much to write out the words to several imaginary crumpled pieces of paper. 

This will have to do. 

Steve, I know for a fact, deep in whatever soul I have left, that you are a good man. 

When the world fell apart, I held on to you. I don’t know why. Natasha bugged me about it, sent me those signature smirks of hers whenever we did anything remotely weird. She believed something was going on between us and I would get so angry with her because it was like she saw something I couldn’t. And I wanted to see it. Wrap it up for myself and live in the softness.

You slept by my side when I would ask, you let me look through your private sketchbook to help ease my mind, and you would jump at every chance to shield me from danger. Even when you know I can take care of myself. I don't know how many times I have to remind you. 

I don’t understand why you shut me out after we brought our friends back. And at the time, it hurt like hell. I literally wanted to kill you and then myself. It made no sense, it still doesn’t. I won’t lie and say it still surprises me or that it no longer hurts. ‘Cause I’m numb to it now and the pain is more of a dull ache. 

But I guess you had your reasons, no matter how hurtful, how ridiculous, no matter how stupid. 

Fuck, why didn’t you get some of that life Tony had always wanted for you? The question eats me alive. Maybe you did move on, maybe you would miss us too much, I truly don’t know. When you confessed to wanting some form of that life when we rescued Wanda, it just confused me more.

Then my father basically declared war and you cut me out. I can’t help but think you stayed behind to help me finish this, what with that righteous streak of yours, but if it is the case, then I am so sorry. 

You deserve to live, Steve. 

Guess what I really want to close with is this: find that life you always wanted. Buy a boat, or a cabin in the secluded woods and become a lumberjack, travel, open your own art museum - hell, erase all traces of your identity and sell painted landscapes for a living. 

In any form you find it, just try. You know I’m always rooting for you, and I’m always by your side. No matter how annoying and smart-mouthed you may be. 

There’s nowhere in the world I’d rather be than here, there, and everywhere with you. 

With as much love in me, 

    The swirl of your name leaves him disoriented, and slightly paralyzed. Steve licks the envelope closed.    

     Steve puts the very existence and contents of your letter to the back of his mind for the time being. He doesn’t have time to dwell on it, no time to dissect it word for word. He’ll focus on it later. He still doesn’t know what reaction he should be experiencing. The letter was unexpected, yes, but it’s the matter of you writing a goodbye letter - as if you weren’t going to make it out of here alive. And that about saws Steve in two. 

Steve thinks the elevator comes too fast and wonders what he could do to stop time. The mics on your neck generate enough noise for you to hear the static on the other end. No one is currently online, and Steve cherishes the little moments he’s getting before having to transition into ‘Captain America’ mode. 

There wasn’t much time today to truly bask in the afterglow. The moment the elevator opens Steve literally drags you inside and captures your lips in a rather chaste kiss. It surprises you momentarily but you’re responding, and it’s fluid and familiar. The kiss is brief, but it feels as if your years mold into this single act, and Steve’s smiling wider than he has today when the first thing you say as you part is that maybe you chose the wrong shade of lipstick because it looks too damn dark on his lips.

The elevator reaches the ground floor and he looks over at you one last time in the privacy you’re afforded. He’s got that good ache in his chest again and it’s both calming and a little bittersweet, because staring at you is like staring at the sun - it hurts to look at for a long time but oh, so tempting. 

   The lawn was separated into two halves with only one fully decorated and the other still under a tarp, hidden because it was mid-construction and to not spoil the surprise. Over to the side, just left of the large lake, there was an extra tarp the workers were manning in case the clouds in the sky decided to cry. 

Jackeline had chosen violet as her main color scheme, with golden hues stitched alongside. The flowers, soft lights, marble floor, and desserts were all violet; the curtains and tarps, plates and glasses, flowers on the wall, and Jackeline’s rehearsal dress were all gold. Ernesto must have spent over a million dollars in the decorations alone. 

Everyone donned their best designers and since only family was in attendance today, the little amount of people were easily outdone one right after the other. In total, there were fifteen guests, and that included you and Steve: Ernesto, Seda, the groom’s father, Jackeline’s mother, two of your half-brothers, three aunts (sister’s of Ernesto), two cousins, the maid of honor, and Marcus White. 

They have already fawned over Steve, some with a major guard up as expected, but as Ernesto explains the specifics, everyone becomes more pleased than weary. ‘It was just too good to be true that the Avengers were all good’, someone announces. Steve grips your hand just a little tighter. 

The mere absence of Ramirez was enough of an answer: he really was going to be eliminated.

Across from your private corner, cheers and claps sound as the happy couple finally emerges. Even your father leaves mid-conversation to go greet her. 

She’s a fifties masterpiece. Her dark hair cascades in uneven but gentle layers, framing her face and she’s both glossy and matte. Her skin is darker and her eyebrows are fuller, widow’ peak and strong jaw, thin neck and perfectly rounded shoulders. She has a painted blush on her high cheekbones, dark eyeshadow and a faint cat eye, and the reddest, fullest lips that are already spitting wit as she greets her more serious guests. Her voice is high but steady and she’s so obviously the center of attention, she’s the literal bride, but you bet she could take over the room even if she wasn’t. Her fiancé, surprisingly enough, trails behind her as if he too is in a trance, greeting the same guests and attempting to match her enthusiasm. She’s making herself known, and she’s succeeding.

It isn’t until she locks her sight on you that Steve finally mumbles a quiet ‘woah’ underneath a shaky breath and you can’t blame him, dear god you can’t, because seeing her for the first time in six years is eating away at you. She’s nineteen, young and sweet, and still trapped in the world you were planning to destroy.   

Her first reaction is to run into your arms and hold you tightly, the force swinging you from side to side. Her giggles are contagious and you find yourself reacting similarly, grip tightening as she begins to ramble about how much she missed you and how proud she is that you have saved the world ten times over. The statement is overwhelming, but you find yourself nodding along in place of anything verbal.

Steve is patient as he witnesses this family reunion, standing at your side with respect and a tint of scarlet staining his cheeks. Finally, Jackeline turns to greet him and for a scary second, Steve sees Peggy.

“No way!” She keeps her voice low. “I could have sworn my bit-... uh, my bunch of tias were lying about you really being here.”

Steve shakes the fifties image from his head. The resemblance, even if Jackeline has more slanted eyes and a larger forehead, is uncanny. “Thank you so much for inviting us. The ride up was a bitch but we made the most of it.”

Jackeline stutters over her own laugh. “Oh.” She looks to you with a wide grin. “Oh, he’s a keeper.”

“Thought so myself,” you grin back. “You should hear him swear during a football game.”

“All men turn into animals when their teams don’t live up to expectations.”

Her accent is thicker than yours. Living in New York for over 10 years definitely helped smooth over some dialect and create your own voice. But Jackeline’s, considering she had never lived outside of Mexico, was thick and silky and resembled a place you no longer called home.

She pulls the man behind her forward, effectively interrupting and ending the conversation he was having with one of your cousins. “This is Julian. Julian, this is my one and only sister and her boyfriend!”

Julian, bless his heart, holds out a slightly shaking hand for you to shake. You do so, and try to convey calmness through it. When you watch his glance fall to Steve and feel his hand start to shake yours more rapidly, you can’t help but stifle a laugh.

“It’s an honor!” Julian finally says, voice deep and wracked with some nerves. He shakes Steve’s hand when he gets the chance. “Captain.”

“Please,” Jackeline rolls her eyes. “He’s just like us! You should be swooning over my sister, who is probably going to be the one to kill you if you ever hurt me.”

Julian blinks. His eyes go from Steve to you, contemplating his next move without wanting to seem rude. He nods in your direction. “I don’t doubt you would. Excuse me if I came off as rude. I’m just starstruck by this one here, is all.”

His accent matches Jackeline’s.

Steve waves his hand through the air. “You are not the first tonight, son.”

Sometimes you forget that Steve is an old man. Biologically, he’s in his mid-thirties. Ever changing and growing old as normal, but his soul is old. From a different time and out of it. The mere nickname he just gave Julian, no doubt because of his young age, leaves you averting your eyes and turning away to smile up at one of the many golden chandeliers.

“I really hope you enjoy tonight. The party may seem small right now, but trust me, half of Mexico will be dancing with us tomorrow night.” Jackeline bounces in place, hand intertwining with Julian’s, and she leans in to speak more clearly with you. “Meet me later? We have so much to catch up on.”

Agreeing, you watch the happy couple leave to converse with the few other guests.

Steve turns toward you, eyes squinted in amusement. “Is she really cheating on him with a man of the cloth?”

You can’t help the involuntary snort that leaves your nose. “The photos were watermarked, right? Time stamped? Maybe they’re old.”

Steve huffs a laugh and grabs two champagne glasses as the tray flies by him. “She’s got a way about her. Reminds me of a dame from this book I read a while back.”

Sipping your drink, you ponder. “What book?”

“The one where the dude gets shot at the end.”

“Oh, you mean every book from the 20th century?”

Steve laughs, “That twenties one!”

Mouth dropping, you push at his chest and turn to walk away. “You did not just compare her to Daisy from The Great Gatsby!”

Steve follows. “That’s the one! Honest! She has this way about her!”

    It’s not long after a few dances and photographs that you’re all seated for the actual dinner. There are three long tables, two parallel to each other and the main one perpendicular. You don’t know if it’s a power move or whatever, but your name cards are placed on one of the parallel tables. But it doesn’t bother you much since you have a front view of Seda and your father. 

Dinner is a six-course meal. Not that you assumed any different - Ernesto really went all out for his youngest child (that you know of). Your mics are picking up conversations left and right so you’re actually able to enjoy the meal. Salad, soup, a weird looking appetizer that’s actually quite delicious, the main course of either chicken/fish/or steak, and two desserts. All throughout, Steve is actually having the time of his life being fed so well. 

“Answer me this,” Steve leans in to whisper in your ear. “Are those hearts or paper airplanes hanging from the ceiling?”

You smiled against the ridge of your champagne glass, “You mean those clay flowers?”

“Is that what they are?” He pauses for a long second, squinting.

“Are your eyes going bad?” 

“Eyes don’t go bad.”

Your mouth falls open. “Your eyes are going bad!”

“Again,” Steve holds up a finger. “My eyes are just fine, not bad.”

Something else to add to that list you had made in the morning.

“This is fucking fantastic.”

Steve, still trying to casually squint, huffs. “Annoying...”

You bump his shoulder and lean in to whisper quietly. “Turns you on.”

Steve just blushes.

    It’s like he forgets where he is for a second, what with the great food and surprisingly good conversation with one of your brothers beside him. Steve’s already built a much stronger rapport with the thirty-something year old man than you have. There’s a stab of guilt for a second, a need to duck and drown in shame, when you realize you can’t even remember his name.

Ernesto stands to announce toasts. His is brief and not all that fatherly, but it’s the longest you’ve heard him string some nice words together. Seda follows, brief as well, and includes a childhood anecdote about her. Jackeline’s mother is a young woman, somewhere between forty and fifty, and her toast is only a sentence long - ‘Solo quiero que estas contenta, mi amor.’ For the first time tonight, Bucky voices his thoughts over the mic with a quiet and sad sounding hum.

Ernesto lifts himself from his chair, swatting away his men who go to help him. He has the microphone again and he’s walking toward you, face neutral. You know better than to refuse in front of this big of a crowd. Steve squeezes your hand before you stand and he remains beaming up at you from his seat. 

You’ve seen it in the movies - raise the glass, say some words, end it nicely. It’s what you do. But it feels surreal, almost unnerving when you don’t recognize the faces looking back at you. 

     “Here’s to you,” you lift your champagne glass, looking around at the happy yet solemn faces at the small table. 

“You deserve all the happiness available to you. You are so lucky to have each other,” you finish the toast and drink your whole glass. There is no applause, just sad smiles in response. You’re not asking for much, you never had.

Tony and Pepper share a quick kiss, thanking everyone around the table quickly as the two cakes are being cut. Their wedding was limited, with only a few people in attendance. Whoever was left. Tony’s cabin could obviously accommodate more people, but he had only requested the gathering of those he could stomach to see. But when that turned out to only be Pepper and Happy, he was forced to open the doors to more. 

So, you accepted your chocolate cake from Rhodey as he handed it to you. Shared some quick chit-chat with Steve and Natasha; greeted Thor as he made his first appearance in a while, hair now longer and baggy clothes hanging from his body, a tortured smile on his aging face; and sat through Happy’s own speech, enjoying his refreshing and joyful attitude. 

But now you stood in front of the kitchen sink, staring at the hidden picture frame behind the mugs - a reminder of what was really missing from this special day. 

You studied Peter’s awkward smile and demeanor, his expression youthful and frozen in time. He became foggy, silver clouds blotting his cheeks and his hair went white, and soon the sink sounded with a tiny ‘clunk!’ as you wept silently. 

You felt a hand slide into your own, squeezing with care and understanding. You looked up to see Steve, his eyes watching your face. He gave you one more gentle squeeze, the same tortured smile as Thor’s on his beautiful face, and walked to his room to retire for the night. 

     Glass raised in the air, you swallow in hopes of not choking over any word because of your nerves. 

“Here’s to you,” you start, already deciding this was going to be like pulling a band-aid. “May this world treat you kind, and that you are kind to each other, and that it’s all that matters.”

Steve forgets to drink. He can’t seem to shake the feeling of wanting to cry.

     Everyone watches as Steve leads you onto the dance floor which is intimidating with its glittering violet light and marble that resembles polished glass. If these were the decorations for the rehearsal dinner, Steve can’t even begin to bet on how tomorrow’s going to look. 

Steve holds you close, one arm wrapped around your waist and the other framing your spine. It’s like a tight hug. “Do you enjoy dancing?”

You step on his foot once again. “Shut up, Steve. Tell me your real thoughts.”

“Who, me?”

“Steve.”

“You suck at dancing.”

“There it is.”

     It isn’t hard to sneak away once everyone piles onto the dance floor. Steve shares a few dances with your aunts before excusing himself to use the bathroom. 

The mission itself goes rather smoothly. Infiltrating and collecting information was childsplay. Amateur. You’ve done it a thousand times and your father isn’t exactly a tech wizard. Neither is Seda. 

You find the electronic bank records Scott couldn’t yesterday, as well as a detailed spreadsheet (more like a hitlist) dating ten years back. In the same file, this actually only slightly encrypted (slightly), are the names of high-level players involved. It’s color-coded, some names familiar because of their involvement with Hydra, and it’s only a matter of seconds before you notice that red means eliminated, black means still at large, and blue means ally. 

There’s a lump in your throat as you scroll through and find Steve’s name, thankfully in blue. It’s expected, so you simply move on, until you find yours. And it’s in black. 

It should terrify you, have you running for the hills and tucking your tail between your legs but you’re won’t because Steve’s name is blue. 

That’s all that matters. 

There’s still no concrete information about the shipment, nothing online or on a loose post-it note. It’s non-existent and that’s suspicious and you don’t know why you don’t voice that to Steve. He’s listening at the door and responding to Sam’s questions. You and Scott are the hackers of the group after all. 

You scan through drawers and cabinets, snapping photos of things you can’t take just yet and filing the papers you can. Papers detailing contracts and miscellaneous connections: lawyers, doctors, politicians, police. Once that’s done, you shrink the evidence to the size of a fingernail with the help of Scott’s tech and hide it in your bra. 

Surprisingly enough, the two of you are able to slip out of the office and the first couple living rooms undetected. Until Jackeline herself appears, pulling down her dress as she exits the bathroom. Steve, stunned by the presence of anyone, pulls you toward his chest with unfocused strength. You hiss loudly and naturally go to cup your injured elbow. It takes a moment for Steve to realize what he’s done and who he’s done it to. 

Jackeline nearly stumbles over her heels out of pure clumsiness but her mouth parts as she notices you and the harsh sound you make. If she truly saw or heard anything, she’s keeping it to herself it seems. 

“Ernesto wanted to see me before we called it a night,” Steve says, letting go of your arm and taking a step back. He doesn’t outright say he’s sorry; he doesn’t know if he’s allowed to. So he braves a smile, sends you a look, and excuses himself. 

No conversation ever comes naturally - or, rather they take at least minimal effort from either party. You say the first thing you can think of and that’s to congratulate her again. 

Your rambling sort of sounds like the toast you gave earlier, but Jackeline either doesn’t want to embarrass you or simply doesn’t notice. She waits for the pause in your voice before she finally speaks.

“Before I start, don’t hate me for this.”

“That’s not a good way to start a sente-” Your face is smacked to the side absurdly hard and you can feel the sting at the base of your neck. You look back at your sister with wide eyes.

“You couldn’t leave the world dead? He was finally dead!”

Baffled, you rub at your sore cheek. “Why am I the one getting the most blame for that? I followed a fucking raccoon around and I didn’t even snap my fingers!”

“Sorry,” she blinks, eyebrows scrunching as she thinks of the next thing to say. “Sorry, I just… it was that easy to kill him and then he just… wasn’t.”

“I don’t know if you noticed, but you were also dead.”

“I was.”

“And we brought back trillions.”

“I know.”

Never once did you wonder what your siblings might have thought. More than half of them were separated from this life, while a few remained and conquered their allowed sectors. Ernesto had never discussed which of his children would take over his seat. But when he was dusted and Seda assumed power, it was clear not one sibling wanted anything to do with it. Or they were just too scared to outright disobey Seda and his tyranny.

Jackeline stands tall, shoulders straight and chin held high. She didn’t seem to worry about the repercussions of her actions - she knows who you are and what you are capable of. The smack seemed deliberate but restrained.

“So?” It’s the only word you can muster up.

“Please don’t judge me.” Her confidence falters and her eyebrows push down even further. “I know you know.”

“You gotta spell it out because I know a lot of things.”

Sighing deeply, she grabs the hand you’re using to rub at your cheek. She grips it tightly as she speaks. “I love him. But he’s impossible to love now and I can’t do anything about it.”

“Oh, Jackeline…”

You could have contacted her. You were on social media - you could have followed her, maybe messaged her annually - hell, called her once in a while to simply check in. The ticket you got was always a temporary one: go to school and find a way to make the trade routes easier to travel. School finished, you found Fury, and you created an alternate identity and background plan to trick your family into doing just what they ordered. And during all that time, Jackeline was barely in her pre-teens, probably scared and alone and missing her only sister. This was just you throwing that smack out of proportion but there was truth in it all. Wasn’t there?

“Julian’s okay. I agreed to this arranged marriage. I’m sure I can grow to love him,” she shrugs, biting her lip as it begins to quiver.

Her eyes are no longer happy - perhaps that was the wrong word to use after she had just confided in you about the reality of her upcoming union. But they definitely seem more dull in comparison to the joyfulness she presented earlier tonight.

“Jackeline, you don’t have to-”

“No, I was gone those five years. He had to move on.” You drop your shoulders and lean forward to give her a hug. No matter how badly you wanted to wrap your hands around Ernesto’s neck, they had more use tenderly wrapped around your sister. 

Relishing the feeling for only a moment longer, Jackeline is ignited once again. “Besides, I should be telling you that! I saw the way that… that fascist pulled you. If he’s hurting you, I’ll kill him.”

Your eyes must be bulging out of your head. “Oh.” 

She looks at you as if you’re going to admit abuse and confide in her like she did you. “No, it’s okay. Steve’s perfect, he’s… wonderful.”

Jackeline shakes her head rapidly, “Don’t you lie to me. I know what I saw.”

“I’m not lying. But you gotta trust me. I’ll explain later-”

“Explain what?”

Seda breaks the conversation and you forget to curse inwardly. Instead, a mumbled ‘fuck’ is heard. It only serves to fuel the flame. Jackeline flashes a rehearsed smile, and she truly is your sister because for a sad moment she looks exactly like you.

“Explain why she never returned my calls to be my maid of honor! I swear, this one is always so busy she forgets I exist!”

“She is,” Seda agrees, grinning like he already knows what the original conversation was about. “Always busy.” 

Jackeline keeps the same smile and is about to continue fanning the flames when Seda interrupts again. “Jackie, your father wanted me to speak with your sister alone for a moment. It has to do with tomorrow’s shipment.”

“Yes, of course. Don’t keep her for too long, okay? Tomorrow’s a late start but we all need our beauty sleep.” Jackeline leaves and fails to look over her shoulder to double check on you.

Seda steps closer, arms swinging casually like he’s pondering the possibilities of what he could do without Steve present. But instead of focusing solely on him, you listen to the soft sound of Bucky’s voice through the mic as he tells you that he’s listening in and he’s here.

“What did she say to you?”

“Is it really any of your business?”

He snaps immediately, gripping your cheeks in one hand so you can’t move your head. “When will you learn to keep your goddamn mouth shut around me?”

“You asked.” Smacking his hand away would have been frowned upon before, but not anymore. Free reign if need be. “Besides, when will you learn that that will never happen?”

“You can’t believe anything she tells you. Ernesto’s only two daughters are mistakes, both threats to his reign. Never submissive, always asking questions-”

You grunt almost comically, “Men and their irrational fears of women… What did I ever do to you?”

He pauses and you notice how his angry eyes always seem to water from his frustration. “You brought him back.”

“I also brought back trillions.”

“You know,” his face does something unpleasant. “Before Jackeline was dusted, she had been seeing that priest.”

“How could you possibly know-”

“He was so devastated by her loss. Found God, became a changed man.”

“Seda, what are you playing at?”

“She came back.” He lifts one finger. “He couldn’t resist.” He raises another. “Didn’t take long for Ernesto to find out.” The third one is the last, and he mimics a small explosion as he concludes. “But don’t worry, we took care of him.”

You never once believed the Devil was this angry, red demon with horns atop his head and a sharp tail, voice booming as he ruled the underworld with the weapons of pain and suffering. He didn’t possess or haunt random places. If anything, the Devil himself was simply a metaphor, a representation of the evil in a living world. It only made people comfortable to create an image, no matter how ridiculous.

Once you even thought the Devil was Hades, and he wasn’t all that bad when it truly came down to the root of all problems. He oversaw the underworld but he didn’t take life, he didn’t cause the pain, he simply watched and ruled. That maybe Hades was real considering Thor was, and he was just chilling in the underworld bored out of his mind.

But the evil the Devil represented was a constant in this world already, in your life from start to finish, and Seda’s eyes held something unspeakable. Dark brown eyes almost black, left cheek twitching with the urge to smile grotesquely, the tense nature of his broad shoulders. He was no massive man, a few inches taller than you, but he was a giant in a world in which Hades lacked and the Devil persisted.

“But Julian-”

Seda scoffs, “Julian was her rebound. Got mixed up in the business, with Ernesto  - but I don’t doubt he loves Jackeline.”

You’re this close to breaking the man’s fingers. He doesn’t stop counting his supposed triumphs. “When were the pictures taken?”

“Don’t do that,” he laughs as he finally steps away from you. “Ask your real question.”

Your smile was involuntary. So was Seda’s. It was the one thing you had in common: smiling at things that weren’t funny. “Did you threaten him? Torture him? Kill him yet?”

“... Jackeline will never know.”

Your mouth parts slowly like you’re still digesting his words. “You unimaginable bastard.”

If you had to bet, you would have placed all your money on Ernesto being the giant to fear. He had hurt you in countless ways, used you and discarded what he didn’t like, put you in the line of fire for his own gain. He had taken pleasure in knowing you hurt, in knowing what you had lost and suffered. He mocked your sacrifice time and time again. And there was a sentence you had never uttered out loud for fear of what you might do, or what anyone hearing you might do, that Ernesto had said one chilly November night only a year after the world returned. It was a thought so suppressed you almost always forgot it had been real. ‘A shame the Widow did what she did - what an unbelievable asset wasted over something pointless.’

No one outside your circle could possibly understand. They didn’t have to - but to dismiss the main reason he was retaking his tainted throne... insanity. 

But something in Seda’s voice moved even the most dormant areas in your soul. The giant was a man with nothing and everything to lose but with the power to choose which. Staring at him for too long prompted an uncomfortable sting across your waterline like his glare burned. Such a normal looking man with short dark hair and an aging face. He stared at you with a set look, one that told you he knew something you didn’t. Like he controlled giants even bigger than him. He wasn’t Hades, who restrained himself and hid in the shadows of a world he was forced to rule - he was the Devil’s metaphor, with red strains licking his tan skin and eyes sharp enough to puncture.

With a small tilt of his head and a strangled grin, he finally turns to leave. “Have a safe drive home.”

     After saying a quick goodbye to Jackeline and securing the estate, you hurried to get to your car and leave. Ernesto had just sent you a quick nod of the head and reminded Steve he needed to see him again before the wedding started. All your leftover energy literally went into pulling open the passenger door. 

Out of instinct now, you wait until the car is past the gates and a good mile from the hidden entrance before speaking freely.

“We get everything?”

The night is dark and you can barely see the outline of the trees. The sky is covered with gray clouds and there are no lampposts to provide light. It’s really just your headlights. “I think so. I think.”

Steve can sense the hesitancy in your answer. “What’s wrong?”

You shake with an exaggerated shiver, “Seda was being creepy… just more than usual.”

“What do you mean?” Steve was probably communicating and online with Sam during his conversation with Ernesto and completely missed the one you had with Seda.

“Fuckin’ didn’t think it could get weirder, but Jackeline mentioned how this was basically an arranged marriage and then Seda,” you stop suddenly. The uneasiness was creeping back. 

“An arranged marriage? Fuck, what else is this mission going to throw at us?”

‘Captain?’

Steve’s hands accidentally swerve the steering wheel as response to the small fright. “... Was that your phone or mine?”

You fumbled through your mini purse for your phone. “Me. Hey? Friday?”

‘The one and only. I hope that didn’t frighten you because I really need your attention right about now.’

Steve chuckles, eyes straight ahead as he drives. “That doesn’t sound ominous at all.”

‘My readings are picking up something strange. The vehicle, even if I’m not able to virtually connect, seems to be stalling.’ Torres did curse you two before you left for renting a car made before 2013.

“What do you mean? It’s working just fine.” 

You set your phone down on the dash to start looking around the interior of the car.

‘The pedal, yes Captain. But I’m afraid my readings are focused on the brakes.’

You bite your tongue and scrunch up your nose. What else could possibly happen tonight? “That’s always fun to hear, great. Greaaaat.”

“Friday, what are you picking up?” Steve’s voice is more stern and even if he’s not doing it on purpose, he’s trying to ignore your coping mechanism of joking during dire situations.

‘It seems that when they took the vehicle for parking, they attached something to the brake lines. Sort of like a trigger sensor. Do not slow down.’

“We’re stuck? We can’t stop?”

‘Everytime the Captain de-accelerates, the sensor heats up. That’s what my readings are.’

“Fuck,” you unclipped your seatbelt and turned your body toward Steve. “Fuck!”

“Friday, what do we do?” The least Steve could do is be the level-headed one here.

‘Exactly what you’re thinking, Captain. The shield’s in the trunk.’

“We can’t exactly get to it!” You don’t mean to scream at Friday. You’re sure she’s used to adrenaline induced attacks guided toward her and never about her.

‘The burners were produced by Stark Industries for our very own spy unit. They are equipped with a taser, flashlight, and laser.’

Jumping so your feet were planted firmly on the passenger seat, you make sure everything is in place: the stolen files, your gun, your phone, and earpiece. “Keep your foot on that pedal, Rogers. I don’t feel like blowing up tonight.”

He releases a shaky breath, hands turning pale from the grip he has on the steering wheel. “You and me both.”

“Friday?” Your voice is only slightly timid, but you manage to move your body out from the front seats and to the back.

‘The laser, Agent Y/LN. Cut through the seats.’

Nodding along to her instructions, you search for the burner under your skirt and unstrap it from the holster. Pulling its ancient antenna outward, Friday verbally guides you through the very simple instruction. The laser blasts out unexpectedly at first making you squeal, which in turn causes Friday (a literal AI) to chuckle. You’re thankful the antenna was facing the back seats already.

“Doing good back there?”

You respond with a low grunt as you carefully carve out the largest rectangle you can create. “You better have shoved the thing close. Any stop signs up ahead?”

Steve’s getting worried now, but instead of putting you more on edge, he hides it pretty well. “Thank god this place is in the middle of nowhere.”

You don’t even give his response acknowledgement as you finally pull the leather, metal, and weird cushion filling away and spot the shield. “I got it, got it, got it.”

‘My sensors suggest you’ll have a good five seconds to escape the vehicle once the Captain releases the pedal.’

You make sure your hair is in the tightest ponytail known to man and that your skirt is bunched up in your free arm. You strap the shield onto the other. “Steve, you gonna be alright?”

His eyes are still focused on the road, but he braves a look in the mirror back at you. His voice is stern but not demanding. “I know you hate the damn shield but bend your legs, jump sideways, and tuck your head.”

“Yeah,” you nod along. Damn straight you’ll put your hate aside for one second if it’s here to save your life. “You better jump on time, you understand me?”

“Sam,” Steve keeps the speed steady and tries to ignore the way his heart is pounding from the sound of you kicking open the back door. “Sam, Widow. Widow.”

Before you jump, the asphalt a never ending, rapid glare of absolute darkness, you leave your phone on the seat in case Steve still needs her. “Friday, send Sam and Torres our location. They’re the only ones who can fly in undetected. Tell them what you told us.”

‘Will do, Agent Y/LN.’

“Be careful.”

You smirk at him, “Don’t be a hero and crash this one into the ice, yeah?”

You don’t wait for his reaction and instead take the plunge. The shield makes a hard impact with the asphalt down below, screeching for what seems like an eternity before slowing down. You did as instructed: knees tucked into your chest as far as you were able, head doing the same. By the time the ride finally ends and you’ve gone partially deaf, you can make out the sound of a loud explosion a close distance away. The heat from the sudden burst of wind nips at your face. You’ve also gone partially blind. 

Your poor boots are definitely ruined and there’s a faint tell of a bruised ankle in the works. The arm attached to the shield will also need to be popped back into place - it shouldn’t feel this loose. Luckily, your head and torso were completely unscathed. 

Lifting yourself up the best you could without straining anything too much, you noticed the car still in flames but driven off the road. 

“He jumped, he jumped, he jumped,” you repeat, limping as quickly as you could, shield still attached to your arm. The closer you get the clearer everything becomes, regardless of the smoke. “Steve.”

You squint through the orange light and the dark of night. The fire wasn’t all that loud in its crackles and it doesn’t take you long to realize while tapping your ears that you lost your earpiece. 

“Steve,” you try again, adrenaline still pumping but panic seeping in. As if on cue, you can make out his body laying far away from the car relatively unharmed. “Ah, shit.” You drop down on your knees and wince involuntarily. Slapping his cheeks doesn’t wake him up, neither does gently shaking him. You don’t want to do anything to hurt him more. 

The sound of gravel popping kicks you back into spy mode. Hide. This was a hit, of course it was, and they were coming to see their job done. 

“You so owe me,” you groan as you unstrap the shield to throw it into the woods, the faint tell of it hitting a tree enough to make you work faster. You hook your arms underneath Steve’s armpits and bend your knees, breathing in deeply and out a few times before pulling him with all your strength. There’s pain shooting up your arm but you try to ignore it. Small whimpers escape you as you pull harder and finally make it a good distance from the wreckage. You sit Steve, still unconscious, behind one of those massive pine trees and sit next to him after retrieving the shield. 

It’s only two black SUV’s that come to check their hard work. They’re bending down and using their own fire extinguishers, snapping their own photos, the works. It isn’t until Seda walks over to admire the wreckage that you have to bite your bottom lip to keep from screaming. 

You’re seated in front of Steve now with the shield in front of you when a sudden movement to your left startles you. Before you scream, however, a hand covers your mouth. 

“Shh, shh.” Sam. Your eyes fill with tears. 

“I’ve got him. Torres is coming for you, alright? I’m the only one who can carry him out.”

It doesn’t take much to convince you. You’re silently helping Sam strap Steve against his chest as Seda and his men are now investigating the woods. You can hear them close, cursing and yelling about finding you. 

“Go a little further. Down there,” Sam points in front of you. “Torres is parked and waiting. Go.”

“Don’t drop him.” Sam stifles his laugh. 

You follow his directions, limping as quickly as you can, and finally find Torres, your second knight in shining armor of the night. 

    After an all clear from the medical team, Steve is left alone in your hotel room to rest. He still hasn’t woken up but Helen isn’t worried since his scans show no major damage. Small talk with the rest of the team fills in the time but it’s like you’re not really there, merely a participant on a loop. There’s a bitter taste in your mouth and you’re covered in scratches and smoky ash and you can’t shake the feeling of wanting to kill something. 

Your father wanted you dead. And showing up to the wedding was just going to anger him more but it had to be done. But you were tired, so fucking tired, tired to the point where you couldn’t sleep or rest.

You let your hair down but stay in your tattered clothing, making yourself useful as best you can. You answer questions, you review footage, you draft up some reports. Bucky tries to sit you down at one point, but he backs off when you simply shake your head and give him that famous broken smile. 

You’re sitting at your desk trying to save some of your phone’s cloud through the connected email. Sam has already ordered you a new phone. On the computer to your left, you’re scanning and uploading the files you stole tonight. On the right, your little butterfly is transcribing conversations from yesterday. 

The transcription is finished before the uploads. It prints. 

SEDA: ‘Ernesto needs to know how many more women we can get from Jonathon. I thought you said your Italian contact was up to date?’

UNKNOWN: ‘He is. But the women are coming from here instead. Got a load of ten just now.’

SEDA: ‘The shipment goes out during the wedding. Not before, not after. We can’t fuck this up for Ernesto and we cannot have the stars and stripes finding out.’

UNKNOWN: ‘Ernesto plans to mention it to him tomorrow.’

SEDA: ‘Then make sure he keeps quiet about it.’

The bitter taste in your mouth returns and you have to run to the nearest bathroom.

     Steve wakes just an hour after, disoriented but able to discern who he is. “What happened?”

You’re standing at the foot of his bed, having just got there a few minutes before, practically on the verge of tears. “... Did you know?”

There it was. Any hope of truly coming to terms with this new world order or his role in it, any hope of feeling like he did before he succumbed to the American war propaganda and became a science experiment, crumbling before him. The heavy weight that were your shoulders, crumbling like shaky mountains. His own, tense and straining and urging him to get out of bed. 

He’s been in the trenches when the smell of gas and blood clogged his nostrils and made him dizzy. He’s experienced loss a thousand times over, just heinous instances of despair where he swore he was torn in two. He’s lost on his own accord and pretended like the world was still on its axis. 

And he knew his time was up. He just thought he’d have more than a day to enjoy it.  “I was going to tell you.”

It’s like the air is punched out of you. “You knew?”

“Please, listen, please,” he scrambles out of bed.

“What the fuck, Rogers?”

“Ramirez told us yesterday. I swear I only found out yesterday. Yesterday.”

“Yesterday?” You’re stepping away from him. He’s almost on his hands and knees and you’re stepping away from him. “Before?”

Steve makes a pained noise. “Yes, but please-”

“No! You kept this to yourself and you had the fucking audacity to share the same bed as me?”

“Please, let me explain-” He tries to reach out but you side-step him. He reacts like you’ve shot him.

“Don’t touch me, Steve!”

“Please, just let me explain. We all know - Bucky, Sam, Torres, we all know.”

Your face does something he’s never seen it do. “Fuck?”

He’s talking faster now, words just spilling on the floor and into the air and he doesn’t know what else to do. “We’re tracking it. We have a plan set. We were supposed to tell you tomorrow before the wedding.” He stops to take in a breath. “I was going to tell you.”

“You went behind my back.”

“If I would have told you, you would have done something horrible tonight! We need your father alive to find those people!”

Eyes wide in shock and anguish, you step further away from him. Each step was the equivalent of a dagger plunging deep into Steve’s heart, twisting and burning its way to the depths of his vulnerability. He wanted to succumb to the pain - after all, he deserved it.

“That would have been my choice to make!”

Now he pushed forward, shoulders hunched and palms turned upward as if he was pleading for a crumb of understanding. “I was gonna kill him.”

He drops to his knees, arms wrapping around your waist. You remained perfectly still, a tree stump with no cover. “I was gonna shoot him between the eyes when I first found out. But if I had done that, then we would never know the location of those people.”

His weight was pulling you down and you felt his wet cheek against your stomach. “I deserved to know.”

His grip tightened, “You did. But if you would have known-”

“I would have known. Period.”

He had to know how much he weighed. But Steve leaned his body onto yours harder, afraid you would vanish and god forbid turn to dust. It didn’t really register in his mind that, even though he was holding you in place, you weren’t exactly trying to escape his hold either. 

He had let you go once and he’ll be goddamned if he let you go again. 

“It ate me alive. I hated doing this-”

You pushed against his shoulders and sensed his reluctance to let go. Instead, you look down at him and tense your jaw. “Steve, you don’t hate me, do you?”

His face dropped and his grip loosened. You should just slap him across the face, Steve thinks, because how in the world were you thinking that at this moment? Never did he think you would find a way to twist this - to somehow blame yourself for his mistake. Took a long time to see it, but you were just as righteous as he was. It would get you both killed someday. 

“Why do you think that? What in the world would make you think that after all this time? After everything?”

He lets you push him away so he could stand but he makes sure to keep his hands on you. A tangible promise that you are real. 

“You agreed to help me catch a drug lord. You didn’t sign up for this extra mess.”

“We may not always know what we’re up against,” Steve began, sniffing and wiping at his wet face. God, he felt like such a mess. “But I could never fucking hate you. Don’t even think that.”

“You sure?” your voice cracks, hands slightly shaking from the need to touch him too. “Captain America didn’t sign up for this.”

He shakes his head almost violently, “No, no. Don’t go there. I am not him, I haven’t been him in a long time.”

“Steve-”

“No! I’ve hated the title for a while now. I’m done. I’ve hated my reflection for years and years.” The tiny whine in the middle of your throat gurgled and your hands moved instantly to cup his cheeks.  “I represent no one but myself. I’m tired of others thinking I’m the same man from ten years ago, or the same man from the forties, or the same man from last week just because they’re enamored by that star on my chest.”

He tilts his head to lean into your touch, “I am helping you because it’s the honorable thing to do. I signed up for this work, I intend to finish it. Not Captain America, but me - Steve, me.”

“You’re still making me feel like it’s something you have to do.”

“I admit that I was never overly fond of the idea of being wrapped up in this,” Steve admits, hands now cupping yours over his cheeks. “But toppling this empire will keep you safe.”

As heartwarming as that sounded, you broke the fantasy. “The minute we take the giants out, they’ll elect someone new.”

“But we take the giants out. The giants that hurt you.”

He’s right, like always. 

“Steve,” you say quietly, bringing his face closer to kiss away his tears. You’re struggling to keep the tippy-toes and your ankle is screaming for a break, but you persist. “You should have told me.”

“I know.”

“No more secrets.”

“None, I swear, I promise.”

Biting your lip to keep from crying, you make sure his eyes are locked on yours before you speak. “I’m not walking away this time. I’m not leaving you. Not again.”

Steve’s mouth releases a big burst of air like he was holding it in, and he wraps you in a hug that promises the same.

~

TAGLIST: @dumb-ass-writer @justab-eautifulmess​ @supraveng @mycosmicparadise @missnighttigress​

A/N: Wooooo that took forever lol xxMoni

[whatifxwereyou]

Ashes Chapter 2: Buried Deep

Mortal Kombat 2021: Liu Kang x Reader

Some more angst with this delightful broken version of Liu Kang I've created here Lol. I hope you guys enjoy it as much as I enjoy writing it. They're a fuckin' mess. Obviously, still spoilers from the movie <3 thanks for reading. love u. This one is going to update Wednes/Sun cause I'm goin out of town on wednesday~~

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The ride to the reservation was about as bad as you expected it to be. Silent and awkward. You wouldn’t even look at each other. You had no idea which reason it was that had brought you to that level of awkwardness. Kung Lao’s death? Your grief? The straight up pornography you’d lived while you were drunk last night? Hell, it could have just been your upset stomachs. Or all of the above. When you got out of the car, you had never been more thankful to breathe fresh air. Even the driver had felt your tension.

The walk around the reservation together hadn’t been great either. Liu Kang had almost nothing to say and when he did, it was in a grumpy low tone that you had barely understood and you didn’t dare ask him to repeat himself in a mood like that. You had started with the shops and had purchased a blanket and incense. Then you’d asked around about Nightwolf and the legend he was known for.

When the shop had yielded no results, you had argued about where to go and how to approach your search. You couldn’t agree on anything. Liu seemed to be interested in taking shortcuts which seemed very unlike him. You tried not to worry about him and now considered that Raiden sent you together because Liu was not himself. You wanted him to find peace. You wanted that for all of them.

At least he didn’t bring up the night before so maybe he was ready to forget it as much as you were. Maybe you’d blacked out and that had been it. Not likely but your brain kept making excuses so you could try to cope with your bad behavior. There was still a chance that he’d forgotten what had happened. That he’d blacked out and woken up sore, naked, and with scratches down his back and couldn’t remember how.

You forced away the mental image of how you’d likely given him those marks in the heat of the moment. Oof. That was not helping your ability to look at Liu Kang. You decided to split up which had helped the tension considerably.

But even alone you’d had little luck. No one would acknowledge what you were talking about. You’d gotten a half-assed response here and there out of a handful of people who had been bad at lying and hadn’t expected you to bring it up. You still refused to talk about Nightwolf or where you might find anyone with a dragon marking. You had even showed the one on you back as an example but got nothing in response.

You met back up in front of the big store where you’d gotten the blanket. “Now what?” Liu Kang approached you as you sipped on a tea that you’d bought. Another pathetic attempt to kill the hangover headache. He leaned against the wall next to him and you offered him a second tea that you’d bought. He turned it down. “Feels like we hit a dead end.”

“They know something. They just won’t tell us. I can’t blame them. We’re strangers.”

“We should…” He began, bite in his voice that you knew would end up in you snapping at each other for the twentieth time that day. Why had you slept with him again? Other than that he was incredibly attractive? You hadn’t had anything nice to say to each other since Kung Lao died. A young woman approached you and so he silenced. The woman took your hand and slipped a folded piece of paper just within.

“You seem very nice but you two should be on your way.” The woman scolded them but looked to your hand with significance before heading into the shop.

“Interesting.” You walked away from the shop and toward the road where you’d been dropped off. Liu took the piece of paper from your hands as you began to unfold it. You resisted the urge to snap at him for doing so and instead waited for him to unfold the secret message. With the way that day had gone you’d half-expected it to be a nasty note.

It wasn’t.

“A map.” He showed it to you, and it was, indeed, a map. Your current location was circled in blue and a path led up a crudely drawn mountain and was marked out for you with the words ‘be careful’ scribbled at the bottom. That was more than you’d gotten from anyone else so it was the best lead you had. Daylight was quickly fading. You walked back to the shop and asked to use the phone which got you looks since everyone there was holding a smartphone. You called a car to come and take you back to the motel.

Liu had pocketed the map and was waiting for you by the side of the road. The sky was overcast, and you stood next to him to wait. “The car should be here in a few minutes. We should find somewhere that I can pick up a phone. Everyone here has them and I’m getting looks for asking to use theirs.”

“That’s fine. We need a map and some supplies for hiking anyway.”

Silence followed and it was more than awkward. It was painful.

You missed Kung Lao. He never would have let the silence be this awkward. Even when you’d fought, he’d filled the silence with noise until either you laughed, or you fought again. You’d take the fighting over silence, gladly. Then again, you were afraid of the kind of fight you’d have with Liu Kang.

The car arrived and you muttered ‘thank god’ under your breath. It took you back to the motel which was within walking distance of a nearby strip mall on the same road. You picked up a prepaid smartphone to make your lives a little bit more convenient while you were in America. The man behind the counter taught you how to use it. You were adaptable enough but had appreciated the head start.

Liu had purchased a map and hiking supplies while you’d been getting the phone. Then you’d gone together to grab takeout from a Mediterranean place in the same strip mall before you returned to the motel. Liu laid the map on the little table by the couch and you setup the food. This was less awkward and more nostalgic. You’d spent most of your time with Liu after coming to Raiden’s Temple. There’d been an attack in your hometown and while protecting your home, you’d killed a man with the dragon mark. Liu Kang had eventually convinced you to come and stay and fight for earthrealm. He’d been a comfort to you back then and you had become fast friends. You’d shared and instant connection and attraction that you hadn’t even bothered trying to resist.

You’d had fun back then.

This was not fun even if it was nostalgic.

Liu used the drawing you’d been given to pinpoint a trail on the map which hadn’t been easy since the drawing wasn’t accurate to the map that you’d bought. You poked around at your food offering insight that he’d rejected time and again. Your stomach was too upset to eat much of what you’d bought.

“That’s quite the hike.” You tried to sound friendly even if he kept arguing with you about the path.

“If we have to hike then we have to hike.”

“I wasn’t trying to argue.” You fought the urge to roll your eyes at him. It didn’t make sense for you to set out tonight. The sun had already set. “In the morning then?”

“Yeah. Rest will be good.” He sounded as tired as you did and avoided your eyes as he folded up the map and tucked it in his bag for tomorrow. You sat silently, poking at your food. Then he sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. “How are you holding up?” You were taken aback. You hadn’t had a civil discussion about even the weather and now he was asking about your feelings? Now to play the game of whether it was about the night before or about Kung Lao. It was most likely about Kung Lao. That was the first thing everyone asked you about these days.

“I’m… okay.” You shrugged, poking at your food again. “Some days are better than others.” That was vague but true. It was what you said to almost everyone who asked. Today had not been your best day. Then you spoke without thinking. “I miss him. All the time.”

“Me too.” He leaned back on the couch, arms folded over his chest. This food had been a complete waste of money. Your stomachs were just too sick from your foray into liquor the night before. You remembered him reluctantly joining you to have a drink now after the other monks had encouraged it.

“Sometimes it doesn’t feel real still.” You stole a glance at him, and he seemed surprised that you kept talking to him. This was the most you had talked, after all. You were surprised too. “I wasn’t there. I didn’t see it happen.”

“I’m glad that you weren’t there. I’m glad you didn’t see it. I still have nightmares about.” Liu adjusted himself onto the edge of the couch and then cleared his throat, as though he were about to begin a difficult conversation. You panicked. He couldn’t possibly be wildly shifting from your grief over Kung Lao and your broken heart to what you’d done the night before. “Y/N, we should probably talk about…”

“What we should do is get some rest.” You shut that down and stood abruptly. “Long day tomorrow.” Your voice was too loud and you were awkward. But you grabbed your bag and rushed into the bathroom without so much as a second glance back at him. He may have been ready to talk about it but you couldn’t handle the hurt. Not on top of all the other hurt. You couldn’t handle more rejection or failure. Not now. The panic was overwhelming, and you were in the bathroom with the door locked just in time.

You sank against the door to the ground and held the bag in your lap and pulled your knees to your chest, breathing shakily and trying to resist the urge to sob. It didn’t occur to you until your heart had stopped pounding in your ears that maybe he hadn’t meant to talk about the night before but now you would never know. You were sure he was mad that you’d interrupted him and ran off but your fight or flight sense had kicked into high gear.

You could have smacked Raiden for sending Liu Kang with you. What was this? Some kind of horrible test? You had been waiting for a break! A distraction! But now all the things that you’d been avoiding were sharing a room with you. Liu Kang was at the center of them all. You whispered apologies to Kung Lao with your face buried against your bag.

When you had collected yourself, you’d then washed up for the night, changed, and finally left the bathroom. Liu Kang was lying on the couch with his back to you, resting. You were grateful not to have to fight over who would sleep where. You had the feeling that he was pretending to be asleep to avoid you and you were okay with that. You’d earned it.

You kicked off your shoes and then curled up in bed. You stared at the wall and hoped that sleep would eventually come for you. The bag was cradled tightly in your arms, fingers brushing over the cool, jade circlet, soothing you.

Your first trip with Kung Lao had led them all across Indonesia in search of ancient texts that Raiden had sought out in reference to a prophecy. You’d had a blast together and had gotten in more scrapes than you had ever been in before that. You’d bonded over martial arts movies and bad jokes. It’d taken nearly a month and he’d become one of your best friends by the end of it.

When you’d returned to the temple, he’d asked you out on a date. A real date, not the kind where you would just go sit in the temple or get laid. You’d been flattered. Kung Lao had been trouble, but he was also sweet and confident in a way that was just plain sexy. You’d been flustered when he’d asked. Not because you weren’t attracted to him but because you’d had a complicated little physical thing going on with Liu Kang over the months prior.

You’d joke around or practice and one thing inevitably led to another and you’d wind up in his bed or he’d be crawling into yours. Your attraction to each other had been sparks from the get go. But you’d also never talked about it directly. Instead, you’d just kept sleeping together which had been dangerous and stupid as you remembered it. Yet, you remembered it fondly and had even missed it over the years.

You’d decided that you’d have to talk to Liu before you could even consider Kung Lao’s proposal. If Liu had wanted to pursue what you’d had then you would have seriously considered it. Your attraction was too intense for you not to give it a shot. It was beyond your control. You were attracted to Kung Lao too, but it had been different. No less important, just different.

You’d met up later that night with Liu Kang to talk about it. He’d had other ideas and you couldn’t blame him considering your track record and that you hadn’t seen him for a month. You’d been very direct- had even rehearsed it in your head a dozen times before saying it.

“What is this… that we’re doing?” You had been nervous and sounded it which had made it immediately awkward.

“What do you mean?”

“You know what I mean, Liu.”

“Why?” His sigh had been so heavy that you’d instantly been on edge.

“Kung Lao asked me out. I wanted to know what you thought about that and… all of this.” You gestured between you. Liu was immediately distant and different than you had ever known him to be.

“Kung Lao is a good man. Trouble but so are you. He’d be good for you.”

That was not what you had expected him to say. He avoided your eyes, face full of indifference. You hadn’t expected him to encourage you to date Kung Lao, not when you’d spent so many hot and sweaty nights in his arms. You must have looked surprised because he kept talking.

“You two have a lot in common. Both stubborn. Similar interests.”

“But what about… this?” You couldn’t seem to bring yourself to say the actual words.

“You don’t owe me anything, Y/N.” He had said this in a way that made it feel like you sleeping together had been a transaction. A means to an end. Had you misinterpreted everything? You felt, for lack of a better word, dirty.

“Well, if I’m going to date Kung Lao then we have to stop this.” You’d said that with far more venom than you’d meant to, but he had earned it.

“That’s fine. It wasn’t like it meant anything.”

You’d sat silently in awe and trying to hide the slow shattering of your heart. It had crushed you. One short conversation had completely destroyed your relationship. “Well, that made this decision an easy one.”

“Good.”

“Good.” You’d marched off without another word.

Just like you had tonight. Then you’d never talked about it again. It had taken time for your friendship to recover after that. You were still hurt thinking about it. Days later, when you’d thought about it, you’d agreed to go on a date with Kung Lao and it had been the best decision you’d made in a long time. You’d clicked quickly and naturally. He’d been a wonderful boyfriend and you’d gone from cute and flirty to serious and romantic very quickly. You had always struggled with commitment, and you’d had your fair share of fights but for the most part you’d been happy. Liu Kang had eventually come around and you’d been friends again, as if nothing had ever happened.

You hadn’t been one on one with him for more than a few minutes since back then. Not until now. Kung Lao had always made sure that didn’t happen, even if he had never said why. You’d never told him that you’d slept together. Why cause Liu more grief than you needed to? Besides, if he had asked you if you were still attracted to Liu, you would have had to lie. Your fingers brushed along the jade circlet and your eyes blurred with tears.

This was too much. You were emotionally drained.

You fell asleep cradling your bag to your chest.

Next Chapter >>

[bad-bitch-beauchamp]

Songs About Me: Thistle & Bloom (CH7)

Jamie and Claire end up in Claire's shop. More revelations, a mysterious phone call, and exchanged promises. SO sorry about the gap between chapters! I've been pretty sick over here, and just needed a break to get better. I'm feeling better and glad to be writing again!

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CHAPTER SEVEN

Claire Beauchamp’s front porch, a late October night, Louisburg Square, Beacon Hill, Boston

“Claire, I--” he swallowed and took a step back from her. She noticed that in the distance he created, his hand still held onto her waist. His fingertips pressed into her flesh and goosebumps erupted under the fabric. She met his eyes and sank into their ocean depths.

“I’d verra much like to kiss ye. May I?”

Words had never failed Claire before. She spent her free time letting sentences flow around her, wrapping her in warmth and comfort. Words were her solace and succor. When Jamie’s eyes flicked from her lips to her eyes in question , in longing , any word she thought of failed her completely. She nodded quickly, for it was all she could manage in the moment. Whatever she had been expecting from Jamie, whatever she expected a first kiss to be like with the stranger who had enchanted her from their first meeting, whatever she expected failed in comparison. Jamie leaned forward, and steeled himself with a slow swallow. Claire watched his throat bob with the effort, and for the first time, wondered to herself how much power he was holding unchecked in the moment. There wasn’t time to think before he had regained his composure and moved closer into her. His clear blue eyes had darkened to the color of Claire’s favorite coastline, and her breath caught in her throat. The moment she met his eyes, everything faded away. There were no words, no chill in the late October air, no more spiraling thoughts… there was just Jamie. His woody cologne swirled together with the scent of fallen leaves on wet, worn bricks; their air mingled together, and it was happening. His mouth found purchase with hers, softly, tenderly. He tasted like a smoke-filled whisky and something so inexplicably him. Had she been sober, she might have had the thought to hold back some, to not devour this man before her… but she wasn’t sober, and couldn’t have been with the intoxicating feel of him against her body and in her mouth. Her hands moved from his chest up his neck and into the curls at the nape of his neck. He moaned when her fingers moved upwards into his hair. “God, Claire…” His hands roamed around her waist and up the expanse of her back, down her ribcage and almost to her arse, but pulled back to crush her to him instead. She moaned in protest and he laughed breathily as he whispered, “Ye have no idea how badly I’ve wanted to kiss ye like this.” Claire smiled through his returning kisses. An arm snaked around her waist while the other ran up the length of her spine. She was being greedy, she knew it, and couldn’t stop it. Her tongue softly ran along his lips and he nearly spasmed at the contact. Apparently one little tease was all the invitation he needed -- a hand was in her hair, his tongue was in her mouth, her body was crushed against the most beautiful man she’d ever seen. They were playing a dangerous game, the two of them, and she was ready to explode with the fire he set in her.

“You’ll stay…?” He moved his mouth to her ear, nibbling her earlobe just a bit. “God, Jamie…”  Hot breath from a small chuckle made her skin erupt in shivers. “You’ll stay? Tonight?”

Stubble scratched her neck, soothed by wet kisses. “Hmmmm?”

She drew his face back to hers in her hands and kissed him soundly. “Come upstairs with me, Jamie.”

Navy orbs met dark gold ones in the glow of lamplight. He made for their mouths to meet again, but didn’t close his eyes. He released her finally, but kept a tight grip on her waist. “Yer so beautiful, Claire.”

She felt her cheeks burn at his compliments. How did he do that to her? Just a few words, a pointed look, a whisper in her direction and she was absolutely melted. She reached for his hand and moved to open her door, but Jamie stayed rooted to the spot.

“I cannae go inside wi’ ye tonight, mo nighean donn.” Surely she hadn’t heard him right. Was he rejecting her? She dropped his hand and stepped back, turning toward the door to turn her key in the lock.

What the fuck happens now? Claire turned, stood up straight, and outstretched her hand. “Well, this really has been a great night. Maybe I’ll see you around sometime?” She tried to keep the hurt off her face, but knew she was failing.

Jamie looked at her hand like it was a foreign object, and stepped forward. He took her small hand in both of his and brought her knuckles to his lips. “Claire, ye have to know how much I want tae go inside with ye. God, I’ve never wanted anything more than I want ye in this moment. But lass, I don’t just want this moment… I want so much more with ye. The way I feel about ye, I know ye feel it, too. I’m not willing to let this get out of hand. Ye mean too much to me. This, means too much to me. I’m going to do this right, mo chridhe.” Claire’s whole body had felt warm with adrenaline moments before, but now it surged with affection for Jamie. “If ye wanted to kiss me like that again though, I wouldna complain one bit, though,” he added with a smirk breaking through his serious facade.

Claire laughed in earnest and kissed him with all the passion she could muster. Her hand rested on his heart and it pounded faster with the seconds shared in their kiss. Before she was lost in him once again, she pulled away and he let out a strangled cry at the loss of her. His eyes hadn’t opened before she had completely extricated herself from him and had her front door open. “Goodnight, James!” she laughed.

---

“You’ll be the death of me, Sassenach!” The door was closed before he had time to recompose himself. He sighed and ran a hand through his mussed curls. He absolutely stood by what he said about wanting to honor what they had, and he had not planned on following her to bed tonight. He wouldn’t treat this like it was disposable or quick. Then again… no lass had ever kissed him the way Claire Beauchamp did. Before he could knock on her door and beg her to let him in, he forced himself off the porch and down the sidewalk. One more look at her windows, one more second in place thinking about her, and he’d end up back in her arms tonight. One day, lad. One day.

Jamie had mentioned he had to be at the bookshop the next day, and Claire had every intention of not bothering him at work. She had planned to answer a few emails and do some administrative work with a coffee and then head down to her own shop to work on propagating some of the rarer plants. She loaded her leather messenger bag with her laptop, notebook, writing notebook, an assortment of her favorite pens, and headed down the street. Twenty minutes and a large chai later, she aimlessly strolled toward her shop on Garden Street. She found herself drifting a few blocks south of the direction she should be headed in and a few blocks closer to Fraser Literature. Surely there was no harm in working at one of the tables in the courtyard at the bookshop, right? She wandered through the streets with a new purpose and was soon setting up shop at one of the familiar cafe tables outside her favorite shop. Had the store not been open today, she would have wasted the morning away there in the courtyard, letting the sun glow around her, warming her chilled surroundings. Alas, being a business owner was not exactly as freeing as someone may think and she had work to do. A while later, Claire was zoned-in on an email about variegated monstera deliciosa orders when a voice behind her nearly made her fall out of her chair.

“Whatcha working on today, Sassenach?” She clutched her chest and turned to see Jamie arched an eyebrow and crossed his arms, clearly pleased with his startling announcement of arrival.

“Jesus H. Roosevelt Christ, Jamie! Are you trying to give me a heart attack over here?”

“Ach no, jes’ reveling in the fact that ye clearly can’t get enough of me. Getting me drunk at dinner, encouraging puir decisions, the way ye kissed me last night, trying to get me into yer bed, and now, I find ye waiting for me outside my shop. I jes’ find it interesting , is all.”

“I was doing no such thing! This is just were I work! I’d been working here long before I knew this was your shop!”

“Likely story, Sassenach.” Claire assumed he was trying to wink, but in much the same way an owl does, he just blinked both clear blue eyes at her and scrunched up his nose, making Claire snort in laughter at his attempt.

“I do actually have to work, though, and now that I know you’re distracted, I should go so we both actually get something done today,” she said, and began to pack up her bags.

“Tis a timely distraction, actually!” Jamie handed her a yellow notebook and raised his brows when he gestured throwing her empty drink in the trash.

Claire nodded in response to the cup and continued to pack up. “Oh yeah? Why’s that?”

“We’ve been getting some feedback from customers lately that they’re very much enjoying the ‘atmosphere’ of the store, and more and more people at checkout say they like all the plants hanging around! The boys and I were discussing taking that idea and running with it… kind of an arts experience, ken? The music, the books of course, and bring nature into it all. I’d like to add in some more plants, but dinna ken what would work best. Is there any way ye could help me figure it out? Maybe I could stop by your wee shop sometime and we could talk it out?”

Claire swung her bag over her shoulder and smiled at Jamie’s nervousness in asking her for something so… chill . “Of course you can stop by, Jamie! Actually, I’m headed there now, if you’d like to join?” His smile could have rivaled the sunshine for brightest thing in the courtyard. Claire waited inside the store’s entrance while Jamie told Angus and Rupert he’d be back in a while and noticed the way Jamie’s ears pinked at the tips when Angus leaned in to whisper something and Rupert playfully punched Jamie in the arm. She pretended to fuss with something on the bookshelf, but smiled to herself nonetheless.

“Ready, Sassenach?” Jamie was waiting by her side a few moments later. It was Claire’s turn to beam up at him.

“Always.”

---

Thistle and Bloom was Jamie’s second-favorite place in all of Boston. It was the word “thistle” that had originally drawn him into the shop shortly after moving to the city. It reminded him of home, of the Highlands, and of all the things that just felt like home. He had met the redhead behind the counter a handful of times, always hearing the owner was out back working, or gone searching for herbs, or otherwise occupied. He and Geillis had become friendly over the years, and the other lads had become more than friendly with her on more than one occasion. It was Geillis that had invited them all out to karaoke, and he would forever be grateful for how fate had worked in his life. Geillis, this shop, his bookstore, Scotland… all of it played a part in getting him here today, with Claire.

They approached the storefront and Claire absolutely beamed with pride. The outside of the shop was ornate for Boston, but beautiful. The building was brick, with a white-washed wood first story with large arched windows. Painted with forest green on the arches of the facade, a heavy naturally-stained wood had the name of the wee shop painted in gold lettering, and a heavy carved thistle painted in gold sat as the crowning jewel in the signage. English ivy crawled and sprawled up the planters on the sidewalk and up the white wood over the green arches and up the antique brick. Whisky barrels sat in front of the windows exploding with blooms in modern arrangements, like they had truly come to life in the most whimsical and elegant way. Now knowing it was Claire behind it all, everything made sense. He thumbed a rogue branch of the ivy, it’s Englishness not lost on him. Inside the store, Jamie saw it all with fresh eyes.

Jamie was a fair gardener -- truth be told, he hadn’t needed explicit help in finding the right plants for his store, but he’d near say anything to spend time with Claire. She nervously showed him around, occasionally muttering the scientific name of a houseplant or remarking about the rarity of another under her breath. Only once did she catch one yellowing leaf on something that trailed up the wall, and she plucked it off and shoved it in her jeans pocket. Jamie shook his head in exasperation at her -- didn’t she know, everything she did was perfect? They continued their little tour and examined every plant in the store for Jamie’s needs. Jamie occasionally hummed or nodded in agreement of Claire’s assessment of the plants, but he knew she really wasn’t talking to him. Sometimes, she’d look at Jamie or ask for his opinion on a plant, but otherwise, she existed in her own little world. Claire had amassed a collection of medium-sized plants on the counter she assured him wouldn’t be too much work but would flourish with his attention, and turned the most brilliant shade of pink when she caught sight of him watching her work.

Seeing that the shop was empty for the moment, Jamie moved in toward Claire. Watching her like this, in her element, so happy, he just wanted to kiss her again. Just steps away from her, she turned to him, smiling. One more step until bliss…

Jamie jumped. His phone rang loudly from his pocket. Rushing to silence it, he pulled it out of his pocket to a blonde woman’s smiling face on the Caller ID. He shut off the ringer and looked for Claire. She was shuffling plants at the counter, not really rearranging anything but trying to make herself busy nonetheless. Ifrinn. She saw the damned phone.

“So, Claire…” he was interrupted by a voicemail notication. He ignored it. “I was wondering if ye grow these plants yerself, or…” another loud beep followed by another indicated he was getting texts at a rapid pace. “Jesus, fuck!”

“If you need to get that, it’s really fine, Jamie!” Claire was trying for a breezy tone and failing miserably. She’d seen the beautiful woman on the phone. They never said they were exclusive or anything, it was awfully presumptuous of her to assume that in the two days they’d known each other, that he didn’t have any other ties. She was spiraling but a warm, steady hand brought her back down to reality.

“I dinna need to do anything, Sassenach. Nothing matters to me now except for being here with ye.” He gave her a reassuring smile, and with only the briefest hesitation to make sure she was caught up with his feelings, he kissed her chastley. “Now, I was asking how ye came to amasse such a small jungle.”

Claire smiled adoringly at Jamie, pushing any nagging thoughts about the mysterious caller to the side. “I’d like to show you something, if you can be away for a little while longer,” Claire said. Jamie nodded and followed her when she went out the back door of the shop.

Instead of finding a back door leading to an alleyway or a small yard, Jamie stepped into pure light. A white wooden door with paned glass led the way into the most beautiful greenhouse Jamie had ever seen. It was a few small rooms, each terraced with a few cement steps leading into the next. Slowly walking through, Jamie noticed each tiny room was a different biome: one for tropical plants, one for houseplants, one for cacti and sand-dwelling plants, and one with plants he’d never seen before. The windows were probably once crystal clear, but now the glass was clouded with condensation and moss in the corners. The cream paint on the window and door panes was chipping away in places, and the floor was covered in loose dirt and a few errant leaves. Everything was diffused light and shades of green and white and warm air. It was warm inside and Jamie wiped away a bead of sweat from his forehead. He turned to Claire, who stood in the far corner, awaiting judgment like a child. She smiled shyly, hugging herself and leaning against a potting bench. Her hair was conspiring with the humidity to add more curls to her head at an alarming rate, and she looked like the queen of her own personal Jumanji. Jamie had never seen a more ethereal sight in his life.

“Ye know, I always come here when I miss home,” he held a leaf the size of his own head in his hand and made his way along the rows of flora as he continued. “Scotland is so green, ken? I think it’s the thing I miss most. The traditions there are so old but it’s so green and fresh and new out in the moors and the lochs and munros. This shop, yer shop,” he smiled at her, “it always felt the way I felt about being home in Scotland.”

“Have I told you I grew up in Scotland?”

Jamie’s head snapped up at that. “Ye said ye were from Oxford?”

She nodded. “Yes, originally. I went to school in Oxford, and Oxford was where I thought I’d build my life. Actually though, in between travelling with my uncle, we’d always end up in Scotland. My uncle had a place in Glenfinnan?” Jamie’s jaw dropped. “I take it you know the place?”

“Aye! I’m from Inveraray!”

“I’ll jot that down in the list of things we have in common!” She laughed. “Anyways, he had a croft up there and we’d go all the time. It’s mine now, but I haven’t had time to make it back there after opening up shop here in Boston. Scotland holds a very special place in my heart, though. All the important moments in my life happened in the Highlands: my best birthdays, my first kiss, my biggest adventures, it’s where I went when I left my ex, when my uncle died…” Jamie came to her, stroking her arm when he saw her eyes shimmered with unshed tears. “The highlands always felt wild and peaceful and magical to me. I wanted to have a slice of that here. It’s obviously for work, too, but this… this is my favorite place. My oasis. It feels…”

“Like heaven,” Jamie finished. The moment he said it, he almost wished he could take it back not because he didn’t mean it, but because it really did feel like heaven here with her.  

“Like heaven,” she repeated. He found her staring longingly at him, and he couldn’t help it then. He kissed her with as much admiration as he could possibly muster in a kiss, and it still didn’t feel like enough when she drew back for air.

“Having you here with me, in this place… This is more than I could have ever hoped for.”

“Make me a promise, Sassenach?”

Claire was puzzled. She brought him into her very favorite place, and he’s asking for random promises right now? “Yes, Jamie?”

“Promise me we’ll end up in Scotland together. I’ll take ye up the munros and down in the lochs and we’ll laugh and drive and get caught up in sheep herds together. We’ll drink ‘til we cannae walk we’ll talk about how the universe conspired to get us here. Me and you, mo nighean donn. Promise ye’ll let me follow ye around the world and back to the place we both love. Promise me that one day, we’ll get back there together.”

Despite knowing Jamie for such a short time, despite the day that was supposed to be a fun, non-committal one picking out plants, Claire found herself swimming in the depths of his ocean eyes with no plan to get out and dry off. Despite the rational part of her brain telling her she should not be making plans so soon, she saw an entire lifetime in his face. Maybe it was the ethereal atmosphere, maybe it was that he made her drunk on his presence alone, maybe it was magic that made her match his eyes and say, “Scotland it is. I’ll follow you anywhere.”

[marvelyningreen]

Gone Fishin’

Father’s Day 2/2

Peter Maximoff & Erik Lehnsherr

-🎣-

Even Peter could barely believe how long he’d sat still – like, actually sat still without zipping off to get something else done while he waited – in the garden behind the school. Sure, it’d only been about twenty minutes, but that was an eternity for him.

Oh, looked like the waiting was over. Peter caught sight of Erik walking down the back stairs. Perfect.

“Hey!” he called out.

As Erik glanced in his direction, Peter decided to be polite and walk over to him and a normal pace.

“Not going on that mission with the others?” Peter asked.

“Several world powers would rather prefer that I didn’t,” Erik said dryly, “So, no. I remain in retirement.”

Peter grinned. “Great! That means you’ve got the morning free, then, right?”

A suspicious look crossed Erik’s face.

“I suppose I do,” he said, and it almost sounded like a question.

“Well, come on! We’re burning daylight here.”

Peter grabbed Erik’s arm with one hand, bracing his neck with the other.

“Peter, I don’t-”

He took off without giving Erik a chance to finish his thought. This was only sorta kidnapping, considering this guy was one of the most powerful mutants on the planet. If he absolutely wanted to leave, Peter would take him back to the school before he could, who knows, yank out all the iron in his bloodstream or something.

Peter came to a halt where he’d left the gear earlier that morning. Thankfully, it was all still there. He wasn’t sure somebody would want to steal a bunch of borrowed old fishing gear, but dumber things had happened. He slowed back down to normal speed, making sure Erik didn’t faceplant before releasing his hold.

“- know what you’re getting at,” Erik finished, just a little dazed. “Where on earth are we?”

The little lake was a few miles outside of town, just below a dam. When he was running errands one day, Peter heard a couple of older locals discussing it as a good fishing spot. It was secluded enough – just a little access road leading to a small boat launch, without even a fishing dock. Peter kinda figured that, for as much time as Erik spent at the Xavier mansion years ago, he’d probably never been down this way.

“I heard it’s a good spot for fishing,” Peter said. “And it’s boring to go alone, so…”

“Fishing,” Erik repeated flatly.

“Yeah.” Peter paused. “Unless… you’ve got something else going on?”

He held Erik’s gaze for a second, certain he was going to demand to be taken back to the school rather than be forced into a trivial outing.

But Erik just sighed. “Alright, then. What do you fish for?”

“Me? Validation, mostly.” Peter laughed, then broke off, clearing his throat awkwardly. “Right, sorry. The professor said I should stop using self-deprecating humor as a defense mechanism.”

“That… certainly sounds like something Charles would say.”

Welp, that couldn’t have gone worse if he’d tried. Peter busied himself with checking over the fishing poles, and took a second shot at answering Erik’s question.

“Bass, I think,” he said. “At least, that’s what people say. I’ve never actually caught anything. I get bored after five minutes, y’know?”

He grinned, handing Erik one of the poles. Erik took it with an expression of complete exasperation.

“Why on earth did you drag me all the way out here if you don’t catch any fish?” he asked, massaging his forehead.

“Wha-? What kind of a question is that? Fishing is fun! That’s the sort of thing that people do on… on days like today, right?” Nearly blew it again right there. Peter turned away. “Where did I leave those worms?”

“You didn’t bring any,” Erik said flatly.

“I… oh.”

Shit. At a loss, Peter stood motionless for a second, staring down at the now-useless assortment of fishing gear. He’d made a mess of things, like usual. Well, nothing else for it now. He straightened up, turning back to face Erik with a smile.

“That’s fine!” he said cheerily. “I’ll just run back and-”

“Peter, wait,” said Erik, grabbing his arm as he went to turn away again. “I know.”

Erik released his arm and regarded him in silence. Panic was setting in. Was this the plan? Peter couldn’t remember how he’d wanted this conversation to go. He shifted his weight, rubbing at the back of his neck in a desperate attempt to appear casual.

“You, uh… You know?” he floundered. “What, exactly, is it? That you know?”

“I know that you’re my son.”

Peter’s stomach dropped. Erik was hard to read to start with, and Peter couldn’t begin to figure out what he was thinking. Every chaotic conflicted feeling Peter had had since he was a kid washed over him at once, and sent him reeling inwardly.

“You, uh… Huh.” Peter’s mouth felt as dry as chalk. “I didn’t think you… did.”

“Of course I know,” said Erik. “How could I not? Do you think I can look at you and not see your mother in your face?”

Peter suddenly found it very hard to meet Erik’s gaze.

Ever since he’d put two and two together himself, Peter had worried that he reminded his mom too much of Erik, that even looking at him would bring up painful memories for her. So hearing that Erik saw something of his mom in him, too… It made him happy, honestly – but it was hard to know how Erik meant it.

“I kinda figured, uh…” Peter frowned for a moment, struggling to find the right words. “When I was a kid, at least, I kinda figured that you knew about me, and you just didn’t want anything to do with me because I was always such a screw-up. But I wanted you to care, I guess.”

With a flick of his wrist, Peter sent the stone sailing across the water. It didn’t skip even once, just hit the water with a dull plunk and sank to the bottom. Wow. What appropriate imagery.

“But then Cairo happened,” he went on, “And when they told me everything that’d happened to you, I just… I knew it was the wrong time. With everything you’d lost, I couldn’t. I’m sorry for bringing it up. I’m making a mess out of this, I know. It’s just… maybe there won’t ever be a right time. I didn’t want to wait too long and be too late, y’know?”

A breeze, barely cooler than the hot June sun, skated across the lake. Ever since Peter hit his late twenties, it’d gotten so much easier to match the pace of the rest of the world without getting impatient. Not now, though. The seconds he waited for Erik to reply passed at an agonizing crawl.

“You’re right, you know.”

Peter’s gaze snapped back to Erik as he finally spoke. Erik watched him for a second more, smiling sadly.

“I wouldn’t have been ready to hear it then,” Erik went on. “I want to thank you – for giving me time to grieve.”

“If you need more time, that’s okay,” Peter said hurriedly. “I’m not trying to pressure you or anything, I just-”

Erik shook his head. “I think I’ve made you wait long enough. You’re already a better man than I’ve ever been, Peter. Please understand that I don’t say this lightly. Your unflinching courage, the hope you bring to those around you – these are things to be proud of.”

Peter looked away again, falling back on his usual self-deprecation.

“I don’t… I mean-” He broke off suddenly as he felt Erik grip his shoulder.

“I know that I’ve hardly been a father to you, and for that, I am sorry. But I’d be proud to call you my son, Peter.”

Dammit, he didn’t think he was gonna get choked up over this. But whenever he’d thought through how this conversation would play out, it always seemed to end in rejection or indifference. That Erik might actually, honestly be proud of him was something Peter had never really considered.

Peter sped up for just a second – just long enough to wipe at his eyes without Erik seeing – and then cleared his throat to steady his voice before answering.

“I’d like that,” he said. “If, y’know, if you’re okay with it.”

“I don’t say things I don’t mean.” Erik smiled, releasing his shoulder and taking a step back. “Now, run off and get us some worms. It sounds like you’ve got more fishing experience than I do, so you’ll have to teach me.”

With a grin, Peter sped off. Part of him still kinda expected to find the shoreline empty when he got back, but no – Erik was still there waiting for him.

Him and his dad having their first ever fishing trip. Huh. Peter couldn’t think of a better way to spend Fathers Day.

[sirenprincess15]

Please Don't Leave Me Chapter 14

Title: Please Don’t Leave Me

Author: SirenPrincess

Description: What if Aleksander hadn’t answered the door when Ivan interrupted the war room kissing? What if Aleksander and Alina had a bit more time to get to know each other before Baghra told her his true identity? Alina is the only one who can comfort Aleksander through his nightmares. Will she leave once she knows who he is?

This story is based on the show version and features a soft on the inside, hard on the outside Aleksander with an emphasis on emotional hurt/comfort and angst. If you are looking for lots of hurt!Aleksander thoughts, then this story is for you. Mal exists but pretty much solely to cause Aleksander some angst. Don’t worry. It will be a Darklina ending.

Chapter 1 is a missing scene at the end of Ep 4, and Chapter 2 takes place alongside Ep 5 and then diverges from canon there.

Pairings: Aleksander Morozova/Alina Starkov, bits of Ivan/Fedyor

Rating: PG-13

Warnings: Grisha are oppressed in this universe, and I don’t shy away from showing the horrors of that. There may eventually be mentions of canon-typical torture (Fjerdan pyres), death of family members, and cruelty to Grisha children. It’s not the focus, but that backdrop is definitely there and comes up as characters discuss their past.

In this chapter: Tension continues between Aleksander and Alina as she tries to figure out who he truly is and what's real.

Chapter 14

“Where’s the girl?”

Aleksander cringed at Baghra’s voice. He didn’t want to remember this.

“Your sun summoner?”

He whimpered. He couldn’t say the word. Tears flooded his eyes. “Please …”

“Dead?

A guttural cry escaped him. “She died because I couldn’t protect her. I tried. I tried, but she wouldn’t let …”

“She died because she rejected who you are. If you weren’t so awful, maybe she could have trusted you, maybe she would have stayed.”

Aleksander awoke with a gasp. He struggled to catch his breath as he realized he was still lying on Alina’s chest. Safe. Her heart was still beating.

She said nothing as she soothingly ran her fingers through his hair to give him time to calm back down from his nightmare. He appreciated it because he needed it. He reminded himself to focus on her breathing. His head throbbed from drinking too much kvas with Fedyor the night before. He couldn’t think. How did he find the words to make her trust him again so that his worst nightmares wouldn’t come true?

At some point, the quiet just gave him more time to worry, though. Could Alina ever possibly forgive him? Would she turn on him now that she knew the truth? Could she find it in her to love him again? Would she choose the tracker? Would she still help him protect Grisha if she turned on him? How long did he have to still have her in his life? It was almost like wondering how long he would have air, but really, it was sunshine.

He wanted to stay in her arms forever, but he could not remain trapped in his thoughts anymore. “Do you want to go to breakfast together?” His voice was hoarse from sleepiness, at least that’s what he told himself. “Or we could have it brought here?”

“Thank you, but I will be spending the day with Mal.” Her chin jutted out as if she were daring him to fight that pronouncement.

“I see.” He sighed. Was this all he would get? A few hours of sleep with her? He would certainly take it over nothing, but why did she want to go be with the tracker? That idiot had always taken her for granted, done nothing to help with her self-esteem … Aleksander ground his teeth to stop himself from pointing out all of the tracker’s flaws.

“Are you good now?” she asked as she rose from the bed and went over to their shared closet.

“Thank you for letting me sleep.”

She started to dress and did nothing to hide her beautiful body from his gaze. Perhaps this was payback for his stripping in front of her the night before. Perhaps she wanted him to stare with longing as maybe she had? Or maybe she found the idea of covering up in front of each other just as awkward as he had. Then he saw what she was putting on.

Blue.

It was an arrow straight through his heart, and it hurt every bit as much as one. He knew that pain all too well from experience. “You will not be wearing that today,” he commanded.

“I will be wearing whatever I choose.” Her eyes stared right into his for a long moment, almost like a staring content, and then she went back to buttoning the blue kefta.

“Why?” He was desperate to understand her reasoning as he tried to hold together his composure.

“I like blue, very me, don’t you think?”

“Are you trying to torture me?” He gave up on trying to appear commanding and just let the pain show in his voice. “That outfit has hurt me every time you put it on since I offered you my colors.” Rejection, over and over again. It took on a new meaning now that she had already aligned herself with him. Now, it meant she disavowed their bond and that she wanted everyone to know she was no longer his.

She tilted her head and stared at him for a long moment. “Are you going to stop me?”

Finally, he caved and shook his head. “Wear what you want.” In the end, it was an outfit, one that hurt him, but an outfit nonetheless. They had more important things to agree on like protecting Grisha and the Fold. If letting her wear blue was what made her more willing to negotiate, he could endure the pain and humiliation as everyone gossiped about her leaving him.

“Has it occurred to you that maybe I’m testing you?”

He glanced up, his eyes wide. He was an expert at analyzing people and situations and reading any room. How did she always manage to surprise him? Why could he not think clearly when it came to her? “Testing me?”

“Baghra said you wanted to make me your slave, to take away my free will. I wanted to see what you would do if I insisted on my way with something I knew you disagreed with.”

“Alina …” His mother’s words again, tearing them apart. Is that what Alina thought? That he had done things against her will? That he was willing to? “I know you are upset with me for keeping you from your old life and forcing you to focus on your new one, but besides that … did I ever do anything against your will to make you believe her? Did I … not understand your consent? Did I make you think you had to? Did I touch you when you didn’t want to or …? ” He could not live with himself if any of that was true.

She was quiet for a moment. Her eyes flicked as she seemed to sort through memories or assess their previous interactions. “Never.”

“Then, why are you even considering believing her?”

“Because you didn’t give me a chance to make those decisions with full knowledge of who you are or the situation with Mal.”

The criticism hurt. Was it fair? He was so lost in his head that he wasn’t sure anymore. “It started with needing you to trust me, but then I got to know you. Would you understand if I said I was just so excited for someone to actually care about me … even if that required hiding who I was from you so you could.” Tears filled his eyes, but he would not let them fall. “Your love was so … addictive. I guess I just wanted to pretend that you could love me. It felt good.”

“You assume you had to hide who you were from me, that I couldn’t love who you actually are. You don’t know that. You didn’t give me a chance to even figure that out.”

“I’m trying to give you that chance now.”

“I know.”

“So?”

“So I’m giving you some tests.” She shrugged. “I’m trying to figure out what’s real. I’m paying attention to if you still lie to me, hide things from me, or if you try to manipulate me.”

“If it was a test, then did I pass?”

“You’re working on it.” She walked over to him and squeezed his arm. “Try not to spend the entire day stressing. Mal and I have a lot to catch up on. I’ll see you tonight.”

“Wait,” he said, rising from the bed and grabbing her arm before she could leave. She paused and looked up at him with curiosity but a bit of apprehension. He hated that she had been convinced to fear him, even a little, again. “I can’t let you go without a guard. Don’t give me grief about that. The tracker cannot protect you from Fjerdan assassins. Fedyor will still be sleeping off the extreme amount of alcohol we consumed last night. Let’s leave Ivan to tend to him. Plus, I’m more comfortable with Ivan guarding you at night.” He didn’t want to admit out loud that it was so he could know if she slept with the tracker. “Let me take you to Inessa,” he started to suggest just as the woman stepped into the doorway of the war room.

“Ivan sent for me. He thought you might need me this morning.” Aleksander smiled. That was exactly why Ivan was second-in-command. He always thought things through.

[sunflowershouyou]

🏖️ Aoba Jousai third years at the beach

Oikawa Tooru ÷ Iwaizumi Hajime ÷ Matsukawa Issei ÷ Hanamaki Takahiro

requested by: @cherryonigiri

Hi Violet, I just saw your blog on my dash – I was wondering if you had headcanons for Seijoh 3rd years (Oikawa, Iwaizumi, Makki, Mattsun) for what they would do with their S/O on a beach? Love your writing sm, good luck with the blog 💖

word count: 1221

🏊‍♂️ Oikawa Tooru

He would be the one to insist going to the beach. Oikawa loves the sea. Sometimes he would even bring his nephew with you and would take A LOT of photos.

He’s almost like a child (even Takeru acts more mature than him). You would go to the beach and Oikawa would immediately rush into the water totally forgetting about sunscreen.

Oikawa is extremely sweet. He would invite you and Takeru to swim together but Oikawa can’t swim to save his life. One time he almost drowned while trying to look cool and show off to you. Since then you acquired the habit to look after him. You even make him wear Takeru’s swim ring around his waist. At first he refused but then he almost drowned again and got really scared it might happen one more time.

Oikawa loves playing in the water! It’s so much fun spending a day at the beach with him. When you’re all hungry he goes to get ice cream and some snacks. He loves when you make sandwiches at home for beach day. You think it’s just a simple sandwich... nothing much... but for Oikawa is the most delicious meal! Especially after you’re all tired from playing and hot and you want something in your tummy.

Oikawa teaches Takeru volleyball even at the beach. You like the fact that he’s very gentle. He also teaches you and you all play together. Some people even mistaken you as Takeru’s parents. This little boy loves you (sometimes Oikawa thinks he loves you more than him).

Your boyfriend is very dramatic. He loves the sea but once he sees seaweed or a bug he would rush back to where your towels and umbrella are. On the other hand Takeru is very brave and likes pranking his uncle. He would pick up seaweed just to throw it at Oikawa’s face. If Oikawa is chilling on his towel Takeru would pour a whole bucket of water over him.

You have a lot of fun watching those two play. Making sandcastles is a tradition! You make it into a competition and you always give the first place to Takeru. Oikawa is a bit petty because he thinks his sandcastles are way better and deserve to win.

After the long day spent at the beach you’re all exhausted but very happy and still energized from all the fun. And Oikawa is always sunburnt because he forgets to put on sunscreen. He can’t walk straight or sit normally for the next couple of weeks.

🌊 Iwaizumi Hajime

Iwaizumi always gets mistaken for a lifeguard. Everywhere he goes people would look at him. He’s like a Greek God. He swims very well and every time you go to the beach he tries to teach you how to swim. You have hard time doing it but it’s always fun and Iwaizumi appreciates your hard work. He encourages you and holds you so you’ll stay calm. He won’t let go of you be sure of that!

Sometimes the sand is way too hot and you can’t even step on it. Don’t worry because Iwaizumi would just lift you and carry you all the way to your towel.

Because he looks like a lifeguard there always are little girls who fall in love with him and pretend to drown so that he’ll save them. (I don’t know if you’ve watched ‘Surf’s Up’ but it’s something like that)

Iwaizumi brings a lot of food to the beach. He helps you put on sunscreen and makes sure you are always sun protected because he knows very well what happens if you forget your sunscreen (*looks at Oikawa*).

You both like staying at the beach until sunset. There aren’t any people at that hour and you enjoy your time together. You cuddle and sometimes stay a bit more to watch the stars. If it’s a special occasion Iwaizumi would bring a fancy meal that he made himself and a bottle of wine or champagne. It’s like a picnic at the beach.

⛱️ Hanamaki Takahiro

Hanamaki is always excited to go to the beach! He likes more crowded places with lots of restaurants and bars nearby because he never prepares any food.

You always play some kind of card or board games at the beach. A lot of the times you go together with Mattsun. Those two should not be separated! You make a lot of bets and challenge each other to do dumb stuff. With Makki you always manage to meet new people. You play volleyball with them or invite them over to play board games with you.

Makki loves trying out the food in new restaurants and that’s what you also do at the beach. Hanamaki is the type of person who would lift you up just to throw you back in the water. He likes to tease you. But you get your revenge. You always try to push him into the sea. However sometimes he manages to grab your hand so you both end up falling. You pretend to be angry at him but you love every moment you spend together.

While you’re in the car (going to the beach or leaving) you always play that one CD with summer/car songs and sing as if you’re in a Disney musical. If you see something interesting along the way you pull over and take hundreds of pictures. It’s always fun with Hanamaki at the beach.

🍹 Matsukawa Issei

Like I mentioned Makki and Mattsun should not be separated so you always invite him to come with you. He knows that you both should spend some time together just the two of you so he declines your offer from time to time. When he comes though he always has a lot of activity ideas.

You and Matsukawa spend a lot of time sunbathing. You like chilling on you towels, have a cold drink and discuss stuff. You also enjoy watching other people at the beach and imagining what their life must be like. You both are like the beach gossipers.

‘See that guy? It looks like he’s going to talk to that girl.’

‘Oh yeah... I saw him looking at her for the past hour and a half.’

You just sit there while talking a sip of your drinks.

‘Oh no... she rejected him.’

‘Well... wouldn’t you do the same if you were her?’

Sometimes you get too sassy and have literally no chill but you’re doing it only for fun. You love laughing together. Both of you like bringing dumb teen magazines and make fun of the stuff that are written there.

When you actually go in the sea you always try to see where is the furthest you can go without drowning. Mattsun is there to help you and make sure you’re alive. He doesn’t want anything bad to happen to you so he’s extremely caring. After that though he would splash water at your face.

After the beach he always helps you wash your hair because we all know how tiring (and impossible) it is to get seaweed and sand out of you hair.

Every time Matsukawa turns on the air-conditioner because he still feels the heat from the day. If you get cold he would cuddle you with a blanket.

Thank you for reading!

- sunflowershouyou 🌻

[23.07.2020]

[gypsydanger01]

THE STORM - Part seven

Fandom: The Boys (Amazon prime tv series)

Pairing: Black Noir x OC

Disclaimer: I don’t own The Boys, only my OC characters and certain pieces of au plot.

Comments, reviews, constructive criticism, and other requests are always more than welcome!

     Posting new chapters on Wednesday and Friday!

  Operation Whistle-blower

As the first tendrils of sunlight curled through her bedroom’s blind shades, Sarah rolled over in her bed, still unable to fall asleep. Her mind was crowded with thoughts surrounding her evening encounter. What was she going to do? The lines always grew muddy in these situations, and she still didn’t know what to think of Black Noir. If anything, their interaction only added to her confusion.

She was so tired. But nevertheless, she pulled herself into a sitting position and waited for the pounding at her temples to subside. Once it finally did, she stretched and rose from the warm bed.

And so, her morning began. Looking in the mirror, she wondered what had changed. She’d been training for these moments, preparing to execute her plan. When had she gotten so tired? When had she lost her edge? Wherever it went, she needed to find it immediately.

Sarah’s morning routine was precise, meticulous even. First, she made a quick stop in the bathroom to freshen up for the day. This was followed by a morning workout, consisting of either jump-rope hiit or strength exercises. She stretched and drank her lemon water. At that point, she always took a shower and decided her look for the day. Outfit, hairstyle, and makeup. Once she was prim and proper, she would head into the kitchen and make herself pancakes, which she considered to be the best start to any morning.

Once she’d cleaned up, she’d gather her things and head out.

On the other hand, Black Noir needed no more than three hours of sleep and often found himself awake throughout the night. He’d spend his time reading, prowling the city, or watching movies. He wasn’t quite sure how it’d started, but one movie every now and then turned into one or two movies a night.

When the sun begins to rise, he starts his routine of suiting up and eating breakfast. He would then enter the combat training room Vought had built for him and that only him and the company knew about. He clocked many hours in that room, constantly training and sharpening his skills. He’d freshen up before heading out for meetings or events.

Sometimes even missions. Now those were his favorites and he often found himself craving one just to be able to let go, to use his abilities. He was a master martial artist and interrogator. He was a spy supplied with strength, durability, and knife proficiency. When they assigned a target, it always ended up classified as ‘terminated’. He never missed, he never failed.

But that morning was like any other, and he had yet another string of meetings. And so, with great composure he completed his morning routine, slipped his mask on, and left his living quarters.

He found that the only thing he might look forward to as much as a mission, was meeting the woman who had captivated his attention that fateful night at the gala. She was different from what he’d originally imagined, still radiant but imperfect. Up close, watching her while she spoke, he had noted a sadness, a maturity in her eyes he wasn’t expecting. For the first time, he was personally invested in another human being, watching over her like a guardian. She was hiding something, and he’d get to the bottom of it soon enough.

..

The day went by in no rush, the hours slowly dragging along. The burning in her eyes and the heaviness of her limbs were nothing when compared to the pounding in her head.

Massaging her temples, Sarah tried to focus on the task at hand.

Someone hovered over her desk, “Long day?”

Sarah hummed before granting her friend some attention. She didn’t like the mischievous glint in her eyes.

“Or should I say long night?”

“Hell no, don’t start up with that,” Sarah immediately rejected the image she had conjured up at Martha’s words.

Martha merely huffed in disappointment but respected her wish to keep quiet about it at the moment. You could never really know who is watching or listening.

“All right, all right,” the blonde swept at her bangs. “Are you sure you’re up for tonight?”

Sarah immediately nodded, “Of course, we need to go over a few things.”

Martha watched her closely, “You hide it well, but you really need to slow down.”

She knew her friend meant well and was probably worried over her fatigued state, but there was no time for rest. She could sleep, but it never truly replenished her. It only kept her going.

And who could blame her for it? People who slept well weren’t constantly looking over their shoulder, afraid of being identified and murdered in cold blood. They weren’t leading a plan to take down one of the biggest, most successful pharmaceutical companies in the world. They weren’t being watched by an enhanced, murderous ninja who could tear their head off. Most of all, they didn’t fear burning up and clearing a block in their sleep.

As a little girl, she’d always sleep curled up at the center of the bed, far from the edges. Under no circumstances would she allow a limb to fall over the side. Now, she always slept with an arm hanging out, her fingers inches away from the backpack holding all the necessities to disappear at a moment’s notice. New passport, keys to a safe house, change of clothes, snack bars, lighter, knife, flashlight…

Sarah stirred herself from her thoughts, “It’s fine, I’m just not sleeping that well.”

The other woman pursed her lips.

..

What Martha had been referring to was their weekly night out every Friday. They would either go for dinner at a restaurant or go clubbing if they had to discuss anything in secrecy. That night, they were heading to one of their favorite clubs for dancing and plotting. A club is the perfect place to talk about sensitive information if you find the right spot inside. The loud music masks your words, and most of the people are drinking, buzzed, or completely wasted. And seeing them out together raised no suspicion because it simply looked like friends going out and having fun. Additionally, they got to dance which was always a plus in the two women’s eyes.

Martha often complained that at twenty-seven they were rapidly approaching the deadline for going to clubs, dancing events and such. She was often very dramatic about it, claiming they had to enjoy it before they got labelled as cougars. Sarah always brushed it off with a laugh, not even attempting to reason with her friend’s logic.

And while she enjoyed going to clubs or bars, that night she truly was regretting it. She slipped into a small, refined black dress and hopped into her heels. She’d already done her eye makeup and moved in front of the mirror to apply a rich, dark red lipstick. Her hair was left down, cascading over her shoulders in tight kinks and curls, a cloud of dark brown locks. She pulled her bangs to the side and took in her appearance in the mirror.

Alluring and mysterious, perfect.

Her phone vibrated from an incoming call. “Hey, I’m two minutes away, start locking doors or whatever it is that always makes you late.”

Sarah laughed and started to, indeed, shut her windows and lock the backdoor. She finally made it to the porch where she stood waiting for her friend’s Honda.

Little did she know, a certain someone was hidden on her roof, listening to her move around on the porch beneath him. Black Noir could smell the enticing perfume she’d applied and could hear the characteristic click of heels on wood. He breathed in deeply and restrained himself from jumping down.

She was lightly humming to herself, and he found the tune oddly familiar, but he couldn’t recall when he’d last heard it.

A light grey car rolled around the corner and came to a stop in front of the house.

When Sarah stepped down from the porch and onto the sidewalk, he couldn’t help but hold his breathe. Frozen in his spot, he grew hot at the elegant form-hugging dress she wore, her hips swaying from side to side. Ringlets of dark hair reached down the curve of her back. Where was she going looking like that?

As the car sped away, Black Noir took a few moments to collect himself. She’d completely clouded his mind, and he wasn’t sure how he felt about it. One of the things that made him so efficient was his ability to focus, always. In any situation, he selected and categorized his surroundings with an ease unlike any other man or woman. He was controlled. No distractions, ever. His outlet was killing, but even then, it was methodical.

But now he felt an underlying tension grow, right under the skin where he couldn’t reach. She was stunning, and he was sure others would think so as well. He’d gouge their eyes out. If he caught anyone catcalling, he’d rip out their tongues. Yes, that’s appropriate.

He shook his head, almost in an attempt to concentrate. Mostly, he was angry with her. Who was she meeting? He sneered at the thought of another man entering the picture.

And so, fueled by possessiveness and an unfathomable jealousy, he followed from the rooftops with an ever-watchful eye.

..

Having already been there multiple times, Sarah and Martha were quick to settle into their usual spot. Taking in the masses of moving bodies around her, Sarah glanced at the people within hearing range. A good rule a thumb was that if she could he hear them speak, so could they hear her.

She moved closer to her friend as Martha started, “I think this is a good time to proceed with everything. I mean, we’re only missing the codes to the lab.”

Sarah snorted, “Yeah, as well as infiltrating the lab, taking the samples and data—like the whole rest of the plan.” She mused, “Oh and don’t forget, we have to live through it and get everything to Max.”

Martha rolled her eyes, “Okay, you’re right but still…,” she took a sip of her drink, “it’s time. There’s a lot of confusion and change at Vought, it could easily be someone else.”

Sarah thought about it. “The plan is pretty solid. It has its risks, but I don’t think there’s any potential plan that doesn’t have any.”

Martha approved, “Exactly. Plus, it fits in with the timeline so we’re good.”

“Yeah….” Sarah trailed off before finally deciding, “I’ll do it next week. I get the algorithm and you crack it.”

Martha high-fived her and downed her drink. “Now that’s what I’m talking about.”

“To Operation Whistle-blower.”

Sarah smiled, “To Operation Whistle-blower”

After such extensive planning, it felt good to finally act, to make Vought pay. She would just need to hold it together for a little longer, focus and get the job done.

Looking over at the blonde she searched her eyes for doubt or remorse. After all, this wasn’t her battle and she’d gotten wrapped into it almost accidentally. They had met at Mallory’s house as teenagers and had been inseparable ever since. And they made a good team, always looking out for each other in the dangerous world of lies, conspiracies and death they grew up in.

Martha snapped her fingers, “You still with us?”

Laughing at her friend’s impatience, Sarah nodded and focused on the drink in front of her.

“Have you told Mallory how we’re proceeding?”

Growing serious, the brunette shook her head, “I only call at our scheduled time on Sunday. I’ll hint at it then.”

Martha leaned back in her seat, “Yeah, it would be great if she could muddy the waters even more, feed false information here and there.”

“You know she’ll help where she can, but I don’t want her involved,” Sarah repeated for the hundredth time, “She already doesn’t want me doing this, and she’s suffered enough.”

Watching her friend retreat into her thoughts, Martha made the snap decision to get up and literally force her to be present.

“Let’s dance.”

Sarah sputtered, “Well okay.” She stared wide-eyed at her friend, “That was sudden.”

“Well you know all that crap about,” she paused for emphasis, “Ces la vie”

The young brunette stood up and laughed at her friend’s antics as she was swept into the crowd.

Losing themselves to the music, they joined the mass of moving bodies, shaking hips and hands raised. The pounding music had since reached into their chest, their bodies almost vibrating to the fast tempo of the music. It was exhilarating, until Sarah’s head felt like it split open.

Martha touched her neck.

“Oh my god, Sarah what happened,” she yelled over the music.

She dragged her over to a less crowded corner and checked her over for any sign of injury. The bleeding woman could feel her agitation grow and spread throughout her body. Had someone nicked her? She looked back into the crowd, wondering who was hiding in there, waiting to finish her off. The dim lights over the sea of moving bodies concealed everything, both action and sound.

Martha found the source of her bleeding, “Oh god Sarah, it’s your ear, it’s bleeding.” Looking up with knowing eyes she placed her hands on the brunette’s shoulders, steadying her. “Look at me, we’re fine. You need to calm down.”

Sarah’s eyes were traced by thin glowing veins, and her breaths were increasingly shallow. She could feel her heartbeat at the tips of her fingers, her whole body on edge.

When Sarah looked from side to side, Martha lightly shook her to catch her attention. “Hey,” she warned.

Slowly, the net of glowing light blue retreated.

“Are we cool?”

Sarah swallowed, “Yeah, I’m fine now.”

Martha tugged on her hand and led her to the exit. They both knew she needed to go home and fully slow down—come down from her high. The moment of danger had triggered a response that she thought had long went dormant.

“It’s been a long time since I last saw you like that.”

Sarah merely wrapped her arms around her waist. After the moment of scalding hot, she was now left cold, almost shivering.

“Has it happened since last time.”

Sarah stared ahead. “Not really.”

“What do you mean ‘not really’?

The brunette kicked at a small rock on the sidewalk. “When I sleep and I remember things, I feel it. But I wake up each time.”

“Jesus, no wonder you’re not sleeping.” Martha looked over at her pensive friend, “I’m staying over tonight. It can be a sleepover like the old days.”

Sarah smiled at the thought of their wild adventures. Their sleepovers were not what people commonly thought of. There was no braiding, nail polish or barbies. It was training, sparring, and eating abnormal amounts of ice-cream.

“You’re going to rest, and I’m going to make you some tea,” Martha decided.

“So a different kind of sleepover,” Sarah pointed out.

Martha looked over, worry in her eyes. “Yeah, a different kind of sleepover.”

When she stayed silent, the blonde made a light-hearted comment, “You know we need to branch out, get out of our comfort zones so that we can grow as human beings”

At Sarah’s laugh she proceeded, “Maybe we should try braiding your hair, too.”

The brunette raked a hand through the ends of her curly hair, “Please, you don’t have what it takes.”

Laughing, Martha agreed. From behind them, someone called out.

“Hey, girls, wait up.” A stocky man with hard eyes but a blinding smile came to stand way too close for comfort, and they both took a step back.

“Can I get your numbers?”

“Excuse me?”

“Can I get one of your numbers” he asked again, but slower.

They were both getting bad vibes. Sarah sized him up, still rattled from what happened in the club.

“Yeah, we understand English, we just don’t know what you’re trying to achieve here.”

Martha interjected with a disbelieving tone, “Are you trying to get both of our numbers?”

He smirked and ran a hand through his hair, probably thinking he was cute.

“Well, I’ll take what I can get. One or both.”

Martha smiled widely, “Yeah, no, that was the worst attempt to a get a girl’s number in the history of pick-up lines.”

Sarah agreed, “We’re leaving.”

She promptly spun around but was stopped when he grabbed her wrist and shook her. She looked back at him and down at his hold, feeling the energy bubbling right under the surface.

“Come on, I know you want it, no way you weren’t dancing for attention in there.”

And for an instant she got a glimpse into his mind, pictures clouding her thoughts. Her own mind was now spun up, running a thousand miles per hour as her body grew increasingly hot. Martha attempted to catch her attention.

“Come on, let’s go, we’re leaving now.”

But Sarah stood stock still, staring at the man as he grew more and more uncomfortable. Not as bold as before, he tried to back out. When she felt a looser tension on her wrist, she twisted and grabbed onto his, pulling him close.

Her temperature surpassed what would commonly be considered a fever, and she felt the characteristic burning warmth pervading her chest, like ribbons of fire and smoke swirling though her ribcage.

The man started to feel heat on his wrist, and, confused, he tugged. Sarah never moved. And Martha was terrified, not knowing how to knock her friend out of her trance-like state of focus on the disrespectful man in front of them. She had already been on edge, and him grabbing her like that must have sent her barreling over a metaphorical cliff.

Growing scared, he tugged even harder, to no avail. She saw Jason in his features. And suddenly, her skin was so hot, he was burning. She seared the shape of her fingers onto his wrist and ignored the smell of burning skin in the air.

“Oh god, Sarah that’s enough.”

She pressed harder, and he kneeled to the floor, trying to twist out of her grasp.

“Sarah, you’ll blow our cover,” she tried, and finally pleaded, “Marianna.”

That got to her, somewhere in her mind. It shook her and distracted her from the surge of energy building up inside.

Leaning down, she whispered. “You need to learn to respect women. We’re not weak playthings, you hear?”

He nodded insistently, and she finally let him fall back onto the sidewalk, clutching onto his wrist.

Martha watched her, “Now, are we cool?”

Sarah couldn’t quite meet her eyes, “I’m sorry.”

Martha was slightly fuming, but it was worry that truly consumed her.

“You better do some jumping jacks or flap your arms to cool down, because you will not burn my leather seats.”

..

Once they left, the silence in the car was suffocating.

Sarah finally pierced it, “I saw what he was thinking, Martha. Not like I could in the past—just a glimpse.”

She peered out of the window into the night.

“And it was horrible.”

..

Up on the rooftops, Black Noir had watched the interaction with growing frustration.

Ready to make his way down to kill the man, he stopped in his tracks. Was this the secret she’d been hiding? She too was enhanced.

She wasn’t on any of Vought’s lists or indexes, which confirmed the fact that she was using a fake identity. So, if she was hiding, presumably from the company that had made her into what she is, why was she working there? So many questions, and no answers.

And why had the other woman called her Marianna? Was that her true name?

His patience was growing thin, but he decided he wouldn’t advance on her until he had a better understanding of where she stood. He found himself proud of how she’d handled the man. Disappointed that she hadn’t killed him, but proud, nonetheless. If she had simply given over her number, he wasn’t sure what he would’ve done. Violent thoughts danced behind his eyes but he wasn't sure he'd be able to carry them out, not on her.

He leapt down from where he was perched and followed the man without a sound.

And in the dark of night, one can only imagine what happened when he finally reached him.

-Giulia

Tag list: @ateliefloresdaprimavera @ellejo @dust-bun @coco724​  @proximio-5​ @damiminator