#I trust you'll make the right choice for the both of us

[the-mighty-mittens]

"What was I thinking? Kris wasn't trying to hurt me... They were just making me stronger."

"If Kris tells me to do it... I can do things I could never do before.

As long as I... Just do what they say..."

[krems-chair]

Don't mind me, just revisiting the plot (again) and dying over this line (again). (These screenshots are going to be abysmal, but you'll get the point).

"To stop now would dishonor those I have wronged to come this far."

Yeah he's talking about Mythal (earned or not) and Felassan and Lavellan and Varric...but the way it applies to HIM, too, is what absolutely guts me.

Long post ahead...

Solas realizing that Lavellan doesn't care about how others see him or want to use him under the inquisiton, that HIS motivations as he has shared them are enough for her and worth defending against those who would tell him he's something he isn't. Solas, for the first time, being confronted with the realization that one these new elves he does not see himself in will still go to bat for him.

(Is he duplicitous? Yes. But intent on working against Corypheus? Undoubtedly).

"You came here to help, Solas, I won't let them use that against you."

“How would you stop them?”

“However I had to.”

“...thank you.”

Solas grappling with the fact that it wasn't just a one off, that this Dalish woman being faced with "hypotheticals" he's desperately been trying to get her people to entertain is jumping in head first, pushing back and disagreeing with him but never treating him worse for their differences and always admitting when he's helped shape a changing perspective. Solas daring to ask for help and marveling at the fact that he receives it, that the same woman who asked if it might some day be possible to live alongside spirits, who did not immediately shoot down his critique of THE CHANTRY REFUSING TO ACKNOWLEDGE SPIRITS AS LEGITIMATE BEINGS (GAH), who did not laugh at him for saying he preferred their company most days, this woman, is going to drop time and resources during war time preparations to personally help his friend.

And then, when he is too late and has once again failed someone he considers a friend, he disappears within himself, where he has always gone to exact punishment for the weight of the lives he believes he's betrayed. It almost works, too.

Psych. Lavellan doesn't want him to grieve alone, to stare at the place in the Fade where his friend used to be and think of all he should have done differently.

“The next time you have to mourn, you don’t need to be alone.”

“It’s been so long since I could trust someone.”

“I know.”

“I’ll work on it. And thank you.”

But does she stop there? No. She doesn't chafe at this random apostate who speaks with certainty and unapologetically delves into a past he believes worth preserving, even at the cost of questioning her culture as it currently stands.

The very woman he once thought of as a mistake that HE unleashed upon the world is asking to be a part of his, not because of what he can bring to the table, not because she needs a right hand man, and certainly not because she thinks he has some well of power and intelligence critical to winning over enemies she’s willing to join for "supervisory" purposes (cough cough hi Mythal). She bears the weight of choices that can and will lead to death, to pain, and when it wears on her she relies on him, not for solutions but so that at the end of it all she might smile with someone who knows her heart and the good she tried to do amidst a sea of terrible options. She wants to be known, no inch of her unturned, and worse, she thinks she knows him. But how could she? This is no longer who he is, it is merely the remnants of what he destroyed to make a world at Mythal's whim.

And still she unbalances him, accepts him, wants more. Solas is sharing a personality that brings him the closest he has ever been to his spirit form, and it is ENOUGH for her. Existing as he has always dreamt of is all takes to earn her loyalty, respect, and eventually love.

“You’re an admirable man. Not many people know who they are the way you do.”

“Thank you. Both for saying that and…for seeing that. Few in this world can see me instead of just seeing a pair of pointed ears”

She. Sees. Him. Every part he slowly is realizing he wants to be known for and even a few he thought he could hide. And then he gives it all up. Because he woke to a new world where spirits and elves and mages were so far removed from the role they played in Arlathan that it can only be yet another mistake he caused and must fix, never mind the fact that the dwarves have forgotten why they fled underground millennia ago in the first place.

The friend who tore him from the world he loved, urged him to take physical form? She is dead, too, never mind the fact that she ignored his urging for a different path, nevermind that he killed and tore and hurt in her name because otherwise what was losing the part of himself he loved for?

"A spirit becomes a demon when denied its original purpose.”

“It hurts. It always does, but I will survive.”

“You bound it to obedience, then commanded it to kill. That is when it turned.”

He may no longer recognize where the Dread Wolf ends and where Solas begins, but if he gives up now and permits himself the chance to remember, the pain he caused himself and others means nothing, because he did it all for Mythal and in his final discussion with her, regardless of what Veilguard tries to convey, she does not release him from his position as her agent.

And maybe that's part of why I'm so angry, because EVEN BEFORE TRESPASSER, the fragment of Mythal that ends up in Morrigan could have freed him, but she does not.

"The failure was mine," he tells her, voice trembling. "I should pay the price."

Silence.

"I am sorry." He whispers.

And do we get that "what we did, we did together" psuedo-fake ass-absolution, the one that, if given enough time and safety to put himself first he may have realised he doesn't truly need to pursue the things he deserves, that make him feel finally like himself again? No the fuck we don't.

"As am I, old friend." She murmurs.

Looking through the lens of Veilguard, this isn't an apology, it's a condemnation. It's Mythal tormenting him one more time, twisting the knife deeper, agreeing that it is Solas alone who has brought them to this point, who deserves to be punished. And then she reminds him what they are to each other, what he is supposed to be to her. What he must become again.

"It isn't abuse if I ask," Cole says in his personal quest.

"Not always true," Solas shoots back.

Var lath vir suledin. Our love will persevere.

I wish it could, vhenan.

And so he pushes onwards, spending almost a decade denying himself his true nature and regretting that he ever gave it a chance to come through because now he KNOWS that this world is different and a little broken, but it's a world he could be a part of because of the woman and the friends that made a place for him. It is a world that doesn't necessarily need to be restored as much as it might need renovation, but that is not the world Mythal demanded of him when she let him kill a remaining piece of her. And any solution but that means the hurt of taking a body, of hurting the titans, of time and time again being called on by one evanuris to fix a problem they all caused, was for nothing.

And a Pride of that magnitude, that sinister an origin, has a long, long way to fall.

So he recommits to the friend he gave up his nature for, he refuses to let himself remember that Lavellan learned the full truth of his identity and still begged him not to mourn alone. Even so, he still cannot quite forget.

He kills again. He kills again. He kills again.

He kills a friend.

He fails to prevent the Evanuris from wreaking havoc a second time, wrenches another innocent into his war, and when they ask him about the woman he calls vhenan, he feels the mask stifling him begin to suffocate. But he never lets it fall, because to surrender now is to place her broken heart atop the pile of regrets he's been holding up like Atlas crumbling beneath the weight of the world itself. Because he still thinks it selfish to want the things that make him feel like himself again, so they need to be taken off the board entirely.

And then that same uppity little shit has the audacity to tell him it's not too late, that he can turn back.

"To stop now would dishonor those I have wronged to come this far."

If he gives up now, his entire corporeal life has been a betrayal of many, but worst of all, he will have ruined himself for nothing.

But then she's there. A little older, a little sadder, and still looking at him like she did the night he almost broke and instead carefully removed any suggestion that she had ever belonged to anyone but herself.

"Didn't you hear me?" Her every action screams as she kneels to meet his gaze like he did the day he took her arm (another failure, another sacrifice he cannot let be for nothing).

The tombstone in the fade is his greatest fear, but it is not his fate. Why? She will not let it be. It cannot be his din'anshiral if she is not beside him.

Lavellan may not have understood the depth of exactly WHEN Solas first came somewhere foreign and uncertain to help, but she never once failed to keep her promise. She refuses to let his initial desire to do good be held against him any longer. And when she sees him accept that not-quite-absolution-definitely-more-of-a-power-play from the god that saw what he was capable of and molded him into a weapon, she finds her in to make sure he doesn't walk off alone to mourn again, never again will she lose him to the expectations others have of him. No doubt she wants to find a way to sink the fingers of her good hand into that spectral visage and tear it away like he wishes to do to the veil. But she is not here for Mythal. She is here for her heart, and for the man who has been carrying it since the moment her lips met his in the fade ten years ago.

“No orders to kill, no conflict with its nature, no demon.”

"There is no fate but the love we share." She tells him as soon as Mythal's too-little-too-late platitudes send shudders through his body.

Banal nadas ar lath'ma vhenan.

She forces him to see that the only remaining betrayal is to lock himself away one more irreversible time. All that's left to lose is the piece of himself he cherishes more than his greatest victories: all that he has to gain comes from making sure the love that was given to him at Skyhold, in the moment where Varric saw all he was capable of and still tried to bring him back home, was not given in vain.

It will not be so terrible a place, so unforgivable a betrayal if he can finally dare to put himself first. If, unlike that night in Crestwood, he finally gives in not to break, but to make himself whole.

There's a codex entry in Inquisiton about a spirit of wisdom who is summoned by researchers and only after a very pleasant conversation do they realize they made a mistake and never successfully bound the spirit in the first place, that it chose to speak with them of its own accord.

"I am not certain the spirit would have talked so freely had it been shackled at the time," writes the author of the entry.

I keep thinking about this alongside the datamined line of Morrigan saying, "And so, the Dread Wolf is stopped by, of all things love."

But that isn't quite right, is it?

Because in the end, of course the Dread Wolf could only ever freed by, over everything, love.

[dexantnaomi-askblog]

Man... Mafioso has been getting a lot of love... Might I add to the fodder? Tehehe...

May I request a killer gn!reader who is an experiment the Urbanshade Hadal Blacksite(Pressure) x Mafioso, Noli, 007n7, and Noob (separately)?

Reader being an experiment for how well could they imbue wires and fish DNA and parts to see if dying beings could turn into weapons (or for any other reason, no biggie if you wanna change this part‼️)

To add onto this, may I have the reader absolutely CRASH OUT mid-round once they see one of the scientists who mercilessly experimented on them-- now working with thr other survivors . Right then and there targetting & killing them more gruesomely than with the others. Warning EVERBODY to not trust them under ANY circumstance and leaves everyone alone except for them if they come back in the round after (if not they kill as normal)

This is my finess cup of tea, i shall do thy request

Mafioso/Noli/007n7/Noob x Killer! Experimented! Reader

Reader is they/them

!Ok to clarify, reader is human-ish with fish tail and alien-like attena, left eyes is like a cat eye, right eyes is blank with marks around it, have a corrupted hand like john doe. You also had wings on your head for some reason and it's sloghtly hard to clean. Explodes when killed (5Km wide), Weapon of choice is scyths and an axe!

Mafioso (He/Him)

He's... Spechless, as you can say

Well he'll be damn, he kinda thinks your cute... wait who said that???

He will engage a conversation with you, and there's no way out unless you talk to him for two hours which you aboslutly hated to do

Of course his men will be curios too, they won't leave you be. At least the scientist isn't here

You and Mafioso have tooken back when the scientist appeared. Damn your rage has tooken to another level, and Mafioso took it seriosly

You told him not to trust the guy that experimented you, AND he listened and took it seriously

Like bro will target that mf every round they are in, and he will NOT spare them kindly

He also likes the way you kill, makes you more attractive than you are ig, expecally when you kill that scientist

He does spectate you alot, but get annoyingly pissed when the scientest teases you and reminded you that your just a test 'experiment'. Like he promised you the he will not leave them alive even for a second

Likes your tail and your attena. He did try to touch it once... And never again

But he still likes you idkidk

NOLI (He/Him)

This guy... He won't leave you alone, and it's gonna be hard to pry him out

You punched him multipul times, won't leave you. Kicked his gut, still won't leave you. You even kicked his balls, guess what? He still won't leave you

You can say he's interested in you, like very very intersted

Well you mangae to get him less clingy when you crashed out when you saw that mf who experimented you

Andddddd you told him not to trust him, and he listen very well

He really likes your wings, sometimes he'll help you preen your wings even tho he'll accidently pluck one of the feathers by acident.

He's pretty careful and trying to control his 'glitch' while preening them

Other than that, he's pretty chill with you (ingoring the fact he's a walking soundboard that tries to be funny 24/7)

Sometimes, he'll drop that act of his and look sad. You felt pity, but not sure how to comfort him so you let him hug you

You'll eventually get use to his clinglyness

007n7 (He/Him)

He finds you intersting, but he doesn't intereact with you. Not just yet

You were both an outcast, witch is perfect for each other

He did vent to you one time, but you ingored his past since you did the same with that terrible place

You always spare him for last just to to clingy to him, clearly the oppisite when you kill the other survivor mercilessly

Oh and he had to calm you down when you saw that blasted scientest that of course trumatized you for centuries

He ingores them, clearly didn't want to intereact with them. And of course he just watches when they get chased by you

He'll often talk or show his c00lgui, or even venting to you and talking about his son

THE PROTECTIV MUST PROTEC

I swear whenever that scientist is near you (probably to stun you or sum shyt), He'll alert you by either with his GUI or just shouts

He will aboslutly help you preen your wings, what do you expect from him?

You'll sometimes accidently knock down or kill his clone, he had to reasure you that you didn't kill him

Trumatized experiment and trumatized dad, perfect match

NOOB (They/Them)

At first they're stunned, not sure what to feel about you

They're just a paranoied anxious bean, what do you expect form them?

You did go easy on them the first time you met them, then you slowly and slowly started to leave them for last

They're confused, like huh???

Oh, and you scared them when you litterally rages like hell when you saw... them.

They thought that the scientist were bad news the way you kill and act around them so they stirr past them

They did offer his burger to you, tho it seemed a bit awakward since you can't take survivors item

He really likes your attena, really REALLY wants to touch it; but they are afraide to do so

You see them as a premium napping spot for you. No hesitation, you just lay down next to them and sleep. His honest reaction: OVERHEATING BRAIN ACTVATIED

They're really arguing with himself whenever they have the urge to preen the wings when you sleep is unreal

You don't care tho

I'M SO DONE, ONE MORE AND I CAN LIVEE- (and i'm also sick so)

[bvidzsoo]

Take me to Paris...

▽ Neighbor!Seonghwa ▽

∞ Author: bvidzsoo

∞ Pairing: Park Seonghwa x female reader

∞ Warning: light mocking, blood, murder ∞ Word count: 5.6k ∞ Genre: non-idol!au, mafia!au, single mother!au, moving in together!au ∞ Rating: nc-17 ∞ Summary: With the appearance of Park Seonghwa in your neighborhood on a random afternoon, you find yourself running into him more often than not. You can't help but be skeptical of him, but I mean, your daughter loves him, so he must be a good man, right?

∞ A/N: I haven't forgotten about this little drabble series I have started a while ago, fear not hehe! Finally, Seonghwa's part is here, I hope it's enjoyable as I find it wonky lol. I don't know yet who I'll be posting next, it could be either Hongjoong, or Wooyoung, or even Mingi. Oh, and nothing is too detailed so you don't have to worry about that. I'm not starting a taglist for this one, sorry<3 (you'll have to lurk around) Feedback is much appreciated and I hope you enjoy!

▽ Listen to this before or while reading! ^^

∥ Hongjoong ∥ Seonghwa ∥  Yunho ∥ Yeosang ∥ San ∥ Mingi ∥ Wooyoung ∥ Jongho ∥ 

            Summer was nearing its end, the weather slowly turning cloudier and moodier. The mornings were chill, refreshing, but throughout the day it would warm up significantly, allowing you to walk around wearing thin and cute outfits. However, by the time the evening came, you’d have to cover up with something warm to keep yourself from catching a cold. All of that while trying to remain fashionable, well, whatever a four-year-old found fashionable enough. Wrestling my little one into outfits that would keep her both warm but not too hot was rather difficult as she turned out to have a rather stubborn persona even at her young age. Not liking to be coddled, but also hating to be alone was something we battled with daily, except on the days when her nanny came over so that I could go to work. My little one hasn’t been trusting of strangers since an even younger age, big eyes wary of anyone who came too close and cooed at her. Perhaps my overprotective tendencies played a big role in my daughter being skeptical of those around her, unless they were little girls who liked to play dress-up and organize tea parties in blanket forts.

Life as a single mother hadn’t been easy, but we managed just fine—have been for a while now. My parents lived in the city next to ours, a mere one-hour long drive away, and that also played a role in me learning how to be independent while navigating through motherhood for the first time. I would be lying if I said it was easy and an absolutely lovely journey, but I also would be lying if I said I haven’t been enjoying every single part of it, every little step my beautiful daughter has taken by my side. Without my two best friends, I probably wouldn’t be living as comfortably as I was at the moment, would be probably juggling between jobs, and considering moving back in with my parents. Arin’s father hasn’t been part of our lives since the second he found out I was pregnant, instead, he ran off to work on a cruise ship, throwing in the excuse that he’d be too absent in our lives like that, and instead he’d like to prevent his daughter from growing up wondering when her father would be back. However, due to his stupid choices he ended up making her wonder why she didn’t have a father like all the other children she went to kindergarten with or played at the playground with. Everyone makes mistakes, and mine was trusting my highschool sweetheart, who also happened to be the biggest asshole and player known to mankind.

With the weather changing drastically and the new school year being just around the corner, I tried to take my little one to the playground as often as I could, wanting her to enjoy the little freedom summer break offered us. My job was rather flexible and allowed me to spend a lot of time with my daughter as I more often than not worked from home, only required to step inside the headquarters when there were important meetings and business proposals. Arin had been excited when I told her we’d be going to the playground once again, before it could get dark, with the thought in mind to let her know that I would be sending her to daycare as I have decided to take on a second job as well. We managed just fine, but I wanted her to have more comfort, more toys, more pretty clothes that she could show off whenever she wanted to.

Her dark hair was in two little pigtails, bouncing on the top of her head with every step she took. The purple jeans she chose to wear didn’t match with the rest of her outfit, but I couldn’t care less when I saw the happy look on her face as we walked over to the mirror. Her blouse was a simple beige colour and had all sorts of different coloured flowers decorating it, her red socks peeking out from her white shoes. Thankfully her most favourite playground was in our neighbourhood, just around the block, and she was more than eager to meet her friends today too. I had held her little hand as we walked down the pavement, grinning as she babbled on about whatever cartoon she had been watching earlier, elated to tell her best friend about it too. Stepping inside the gated playground, I was quickly forgotten as she rushed over to her friends, not paying mind to my request of always staying within my sight. I had walked over to an empty bench and sat down, watching my daughter play around with other children with a smile on my face.

At times, I wondered what life would be like without her. Whether I would have stayed here or moved to another country, whether I would have signed up for another college or remained with the diploma I have right now. Whether I would have chosen a career that was more active and sociable than the one I had now, secluded and homebound. Whether I would have found a man that actually cherishes me and my child, whether he would have gotten married to me first and wouldn’t have run away, leaving a pregnant woman alone to fend for herself and their baby. But it was better without my ex, he would have been a horrible father, and I’d rather my little Arin not have a father figure while growing up than have one that is horrible and makes her hate all men.

It didn’t take long for the other mothers to approach me, wide smiles on their faces as they were happy to see me, happy that Arin was here to play with their children. Most of them were stay at home mothers until their children grew past the point of constantly needing attention and help, and they were rather friendly, understanding, and quite helpful if I needed guidance or a little bit of help. Doyoung’s mother was the friendliest out of them all, she never failed to make my day better and she always brought cookies for the two of us to snack on while our kids played around in the sand. But today she wasn’t here, and that meant I had to face Jake’s mother on my own, a woman that was far from being nice, and never failed to find ways to belittle me for being a single mother. She never said it, but I knew she thought I was a whore; I could see it in her eyes whenever she grinned that fake grin of hers.

“Ah, the weather is so lovely today.” And to my luck, it had been her who approached me first, the other mothers slowly coming up to us, greeting us with smiles and little waves. I paid her no mind, instead looked for my little girl, finding her on the swings as Nakyoung gently pushed her, making Arin giggle loudly.

“Is this real snake skin?!” A mother, one that was rather shallow, exclaimed as she grabbed for Jake mother’s purse, mouth having fallen open.

“Of course, it is,” Jake’s mother chuckled, looking over her sunglasses, “I don’t wear fakies.”

I tried to keep my eyeroll minimal as Jake’s mother threw a fleeting look my way, never failing to flaunt her wealth and the fact that I owned one fake Louis Vuitton bag. Sue me, the design was elegant, and I wasn’t about to leave it at the thrift store just because it was a fake one.

“It must be nice to have a rich husband.” Emma’s mother sighed dreamily, her lipstick a little smudged, but nobody pointed it out to her.

“It is rather comfortable,” Jake’s mother giggled, pushing her lavish curls behind her shoulders, “saves you from a lot of house chores and work I’d rather not do.”

“How are you today?” I felt a soft nudge against my knee, and I turned my head to face Mingyu’s mother, a woman who was beautiful beyond her years, well-mannered, wise, and very sweet. I liked her just as much as I liked Doyoung’s mother, sometimes the three of us would grab some coffee if our schedules aligned.

“Just fine, and you?” I asked, our voices hushed as we tuned out the other mothers’ conversation, not curious of whatever boasting Jake’s mother was on about. She couldn’t tell us anything new, she always repeated the same old stories, changing a few details here and there, thinking we wouldn’t notice.

“Mingyu’s been restless today,” His mother sighed, pursing her lips, “the more he grows, the harder it is to make him sit still.”

“Arin is energetic too.” I chuckled, watching Mingyu’s mother with an understanding look, “And she loves throwing tantrums if things don’t go her way.”

“Ah, of course.” Mingyu’s mother chuckled, shaking her head, “Maybe our little ones learnt it from each other, because Mingyu’s been doing them more frequently too.”

“Certainly, they must be conspiring—”

“Arin and Mingyu’s mothers,” Jake’s mother raised her voice, lips pulled into a fake grin, “are you leaving out others from your conversation now? Isn’t that rude?”

The other mothers chuckled, rather awkwardly, but Mingyu’s mother remained calm as she raised her eyebrows at Jake’s mother, “I don’t think having a private conversation with someone is considered rude despite sitting in a group.”

With a snort, I added, “Especially if only one person is talking in that group, that feels ruder to me…”

The other mothers, besides Mingyu’s, looked around awkwardly, some clearing their throats as the others tried to play it off as funny as they chuckled. Jake’s mother’s lips formed a tight line as she cleared her throat, gripping her authentic snake skin purse like anyone would want to steal it from her.

“I was merely sharing how much my lovely husband loves me.” Jake’s mother chuckled, voice dripping with honey as she blinked innocently, “You know, he’s always eager to please me, and, frankly, if a snake skin purse is what makes me happy as I have to stay at home and raise our child, he’ll get it for me without a fuss. What has your husband given you—”

Her insult wasn’t new, nor impressive, as I blinked at her, lips slowly pulling into a small smile. Mingyu’s mother scoffed next to me, and the other mothers’ looked rather uncomfortable due to the atmosphere Jake’s mother had created now. Really, if the woman wanted to hurt me, she’d have to get a lot more creative with her stupid back-handed insults.

“You know,” My voice was levelled, calm, “if I want to make myself happy, I buy that damn snake skin purse myself. I don’t need a husband who forces me to stay at home, stealing away my freedom, while he goes out and cheats on me as much as he’d like, knowing that when he returns, I’ll be waiting for him with warm dinner on the table and open legs.”

Well, that pretty much shut up the other mothers as Jake’s gasped, looking more than appalled by what I dared say to her face. I wasn’t insinuating anything, but knowing her, she definitely made it about herself in her pea sized brain, gaping like a fish as I rolled my eyes at her and turned my head to face Mingyu’s mother. She had her hand in front of her mouth, trying to muffle her giggles. A young child screamed all of a sudden, alerting us mothers as our heads whipped in the direction of the screams.

“Dear!” Kyuhyun’s mother exclaimed, running over to her child as he was clutching his little knee with tears streaming down his face. Realizing that I haven’t been checking on my little Arin, I let my eyes survey the playground, quickly coming to the alarming realization that she wasn’t anywhere. Heart suddenly racing in my chest, I jumped up to my feet and whipped my head around, alerting Mingyu’s mother.

“What’s wrong?”

“I can’t see Arin!” My voice sounded breathless as I left my belongings on the bench, taking off in a jog towards the sand. Mingyu was by himself, building a sand tower as he glanced up at me, his little canines showing as he grinned.

“A tower!” He pointed at his sculpture, but I couldn’t focus on that right now.

“Have you seen Arin?” I asked panicked, feelings my hands shake as I tried to fight the impeding panic that threatened to overtake my rational thoughts. I had to stay level-headed if I wanted to find my little girl.

“She went there, I think.” Mingyu pointed behind the big slides, that part of the playground rather obscured as it was covered with large bushes and overgrown grass. Thanking him quickly, I took off towards where the little boy had pointed, lump in my throat and heart in my chest racing wildly as I realized the gate was open and my little girl was talking to a man, giggling and letting him pat her head.

“Arin!” My voice sounded as panicked as I felt on the inside, it was loud and stern, alerting my daughter and the man she stood with. My feet carried me over in no time and I scooped her up in my arms, hugging her tightly, uncaring that she was getting heavier and I couldn’t carry her as much as I would’ve liked to, “Arin.”

I whispered against her hair, kissing her cheek as she giggled, hugging me around the neck as I finally turned my head, glaring at the stranger. But it took me by surprise how well-dressed and handsome he was, standing tall with his hands behind his back, shoulders pulled back, expression blank. The right side of his long black hair was slicked back, the left strands falling into his eye, slightly obscuring it from view. Despite the roundness of them, his eyes were sharp and fierce, it made my heart race once again as I couldn’t read his expression, scared of what he wanted. His nose was tall and his lips plush and plump, skin perfect and sun-kissed, “What the hell are you doing talking to my daughter?!”

My eyes swiftly checked him out again, taking in the expensive looking outfit he wore. His pants were of leather and hugged his long legs elegantly, obscuring the high heeled boots he was wearing. Despite the heat, he wore a black turtleneck with a white shirt and vest over it, all tucked inside his leather pants, with a black coat draped over his shoulders. His necktie was loose, but not to the point it would make his outfit look unkept. For a second, I wondered how he managed it with all the layers of clothing if I was sweating in a simple tee and ruffled midi-skirt.

“I’m afraid you misunderstood my intentions, Miss.” The man’s voice was deep, yet pleasant, taking me off guard by how calm and reassuring it sounded. It didn’t match his face nor outlook, “I was passing by, on my way to my car, when I saw her stumble past the unlocked gate. Worried that she was lost or would run into bad people, I decided to stop and ask her if she was here alone or with someone, with the intention of walking her back to you.”

I gulped as Arin nuzzled against my neck, peeking at the stranger with a shy giggle, “He’s handsome!”

“Arin.” I muttered, and threw her an unimpressed look, “Is it true what the man is saying?”

“Yes!” Arin exclaimed, suddenly pulling away from my neck as she grinned widely at the man. I’ve never seen her act like that towards strangers before, my eyebrows raised in surprise as I watched her make grabby hands at him, “You promised you’d carry me.”

The man’s chuckle was deep as Arin started pouting, making me feel embarrassed slightly, “Arin, you can’t ask people to just carry you around, especially not strangers—”

“But he’s not—” Her eyebrows furrowed as she struggled for a second, “stranger, he’s Seong—hwa?”

The man chuckled and fixed his coat as his hands slipped inside the pockets of his leather pants, “Seonghwa, yes. I promised to carry you to your mommy, but she’s here now, so I don’t have to do that anymore.”

“But—” Arin pouted, crossing her arms in front of her chest as she gave me puppy eyes, “can’t he be my daddy?”

“Arin.” I hissed mortified, cheeks flushing as the stranger raised an eyebrow, looking rather elegant as he did so, “I told you, you can’t ask random men to be your father—I’m sorry.”

I faced the stranger—Seonghwa—and bowed my head as Arin whined, kicking her legs and my ribs subsequently. I grimaced and went to chastise her, but to my surprise, the stranger stepped closer, eyes narrowed, but not maliciously.

“You’re hurting your mother, stop kicking.” The authority in his voice made both Arin and I pause as we both gazed at him with wide eyes, “You should thank her instead for coming to find you, and don’t wander off again, there’s a lot of bad people in the world.”

“Is that true?” Arin whispered, her round eyes falling on me as her lower lip jutted out. I sighed and nodded, facing the man again.

“Thank you, really, and I’m sorry for the inconvenience.” I bowed my head again, then placed Arin onto the ground, taking her hand into mine.

“Be more careful next time, you never know who you come across.” There was an almost dangerous lull to his tone, eyes slightly narrowing before he bowed his head and took off, probably towards his car. I gulped, the lump finally gone from my throat as I watched Seonghwa disappear around the corner, not a speck of dust on his expensive clothes. Then, I felt Arin squeeze my arm and sniff, making me look down at her to find her crying.

“Arin, what’s wrong?” I asked worried, feeling panicked again as all sorts of scenarios ran through my mind. Maybe Seonghwa did something to her and she was scared to say it in front of him.

“Seong—hwa promised to buy me cotton candy once we found you.” Tears rolled down my little one’s cheeks, making me chuckle as I crouched down to be eye level with her, “And he said he’d buy you coffee too.”

“He said that?” I asked surprised, wiping her tears away.

“Yes, he said he likes your skirt.” My eyebrows furrowed as I pressed a reassuring kiss against her chubby and rosy cheek.

“Does he now?” I muttered to myself as I stood up again, and tried to shake off the unease as I guided us back inside the playground. This was a weird interaction and it’s left me feeling uneasy and hopeful that something like this wouldn’t happen again.

            Days, weeks, passed by and it seemed like the stranger from the playground was everywhere now. Park Seonghwa, he had said his name was on a random Saturday afternoon, when we bumped into each other at a rather small flower shop, ten minutes away from my neighbourhood. I hadn’t been looking where I was going as I was busy multitasking—as in opening the shop’s door while typing away on my phone to the nanny that I would be home in fifteen minutes—and thus, the second I was out the door I had collided against a hard chest. The apology died down in my throat upon seeing the familiar face, heart racing out of unease rather than excitement. But Seonghwa had been nice, helped me pick up the bouquet I had dropped, and then offered to drive me home as the wind had picked up, dark storm clouds promising a downpour that would come rather soon. But, as I had taught my little Arin to not trust strangers, I didn’t trust this man either, and politely declined his offer. He didn’t seem weird nor made me feel uncomfortable, but I was wary of him. After all, the way we met was more suspicious than not.

The next time we ran into each other was barely a few days after the encounter at the flower shop, when I was out early in the morning, picking up fresh bread and some chocolate croissants that Arin loves a lot. My best friends had slept over the night prior, and so, it was safe for me to leave the apartment on my own, the two would watch over Arin if she were to wake up earlier than expected. The bakery had an adjacent coffee shop as well, and while I waited for my coffee order, I had stepped into line to order the delicacies, unassuming of the round eyes watching me from a table placed by the entrance. I was engrossed in reading through my emails as it was finally my turn in line, but the barista called my name to get my coffee right as I had placed my order for the pastries, and I had no choice but to step aside and quickly fetch my coffee. However, when I made it back to the cashier, the delicacies and my coffee have been paid for. When I asked how, the cashier just giggled about a tall and handsome man, dressed in an expensive suit, having paid for my purchases before he hurried outside. I had swiftly turned around, eyes wide as I caught a quick glimpse of Seonghwa sitting inside a very expensive looking Mercedes Benz parked across the street. My heart had started racing, but not out of unease anymore, but out of curiosity and wonder.

Then the next week had arrived, and Arin and I were at a playhouse when suddenly Seonghwa was sat at our table, smiling widely as he offered an unopened bag of marshmallows to Arin. I couldn’t help but gape at him, wondering whether it was coincidence that he had Arin’s favourite snack at hand. He apologized for having sat at our table uninvited, but he said his niece worked at the playhouse, and upon seeing us he wanted to greet us. Arin was beyond enthralled and begged Seonghwa to stay with us, managing to convince the both of us as we gave in at the end, keen to entertain my young daughter. It was rather heartwarming seeing Seonghwa so eager to play with Arin as they both made their way to the trampolines, Seonghwa looking out of place in his fancy leather outfit. Upon finishing my orange juice, I joined the two and was rather surprised to find myself enjoying Seonghwa’s company. Despite his fierce looks, he was a gentle man with a kind heart, happily playing with Arin, and letting her drag him around while he tried to make conversation with me as well. When I had put Arin to bed, she asked whether we could invite Seonghwa over to our house for a yummy meal.

Not much to my surprise anymore, a day later, Seonghwa and I crossed paths at the convenience store, and I decided to stop being so uptight and stirred up a conversation with him, inquiring of his sudden appearances wherever I went. He said he had recently moved into the neighbourhood, hence why we were crossing paths more often, and he had always liked making new friends, so he was rather eager to get to know me, if I also wanted that. I still didn’t fully trust him—he was still a stranger after all—but I decided to agree to hanging out in the weekend, of going someplace silent and relaxing. Arin could stay with the nanny this time; I didn’t want to involve her just yet knowing she liked Seonghwa rather a lot.

It had been a day before the agreed upon hangout, when I was walking home from a meeting that got drawn out due to a business partner showing up unannounced. Thankfully one of my friend’s was free for the night and went over to my house to help out as the nanny couldn’t stay for the evening as well, stressing me out even more. The sky was dark and the air chilly as I had gotten off the bus. I hadn’t driven to my workplace because I thought the meeting wouldn’t be more than two hours, meaning that it would’ve been still light outside when I had to return home. But that was hours ago, and now I just barely managed to catch the last bus, eager to get home and bury myself under the warm blankets, cuddled up next to Arin and my friend, probably having to watch Arin’s favourite Barbie movie again.

The neighbourhood was quiet as my heels clicked loudly, my pace quickening as I could feel a blister form right underneath my big toe, making me hiss out in pain as I stepped rather wonkily on it. My wrists had started aching from how many notes I had taken, and the satchel bag that hung over my shoulder was heavier than usual due to my laptop being inside it. I passed the convenience store just as the old lady was closing up, and we briefly greeted each other as I sighed loudly, my apartment just three blocks away now, right around the corner. The streets were quiet and a few lampposts were faulty as they flickered, then completely went out, making me shiver as it reminded me of horror movie scenes. My breaths were laboured and my gut feeling told me to just hurry up, so ignoring the ache of my foot due to the blister, I started walking faster, my heels clicking harder against the concrete. Much to my alarm, I could hear hurried footsteps behind myself, almost as if they were trying to catch up to me. My heart had started racing as I gripped my satchel bag tightly, ready to swing it at whoever if they tried to come at me.

I heard a hiss behind and I decided to look back, eyes widening instantly when they fell on a masked man, who had started running at me now. I shrieked and took off, the heels not being an obstacle as I made my way down the street, clutching my bag tightly as it tried to swing around my body. Nothing could’ve stopped me as I ran for my life, chest heaving as I tried not to slow down, the apartment complex I lived in barely a block away now. But the masked man was catching up and I knew I couldn’t outrun him, so I tried to quickly think of an escape route where I could hideout and phone the police. My heart was pumping fast and my lips had started trembling as my body and mind were filled with adrenaline, fuelling my senses to push harder as I made a sharp turn to the left. The alleyway was dark, I hadn’t been here before, and my blood ran cold when I realized the dire mistake I have made. It was a dead-end alleyway, a wired tall fence separating it from the next passage. I was trapped in as I whirled around, eyes wide as they fell on the masked man blocking my only exit. He cackled, suddenly something sharp and glinting appearing in his hands. It was a knife. My body had started trembling as I tried to come up with a plan, hand him over whatever he asked for, but before I could open my mouth to plead for my life, the man stopped abruptly, then heavily fell over, hitting the ground with a loud thud.

I gasped as I watched him frozen, confused and scared of what has happened. Looking around, I couldn’t see anyone, and so, reluctantly I made my way towards the masked man. But when I finally reached him, my eyes widened in horror at the blatant bullet hole in the back of his head, blood oozing out of it onto the pavement, flowing towards the soles of my high heels. I whimpered as I walked around the dead body, eyes fixated on it as if it would revive him, when I crashed into a hard chest. I gasped and opened my mouth to shriek, to call for help, but instead it got muffled by a leather gloved hand, my body getting pushed against the side of one of the buildings the alleyway was encompassed between. My body trembled as I looked up, eyes getting even wider, if possible, as I recognized the familiar face.

“Seo-Seonghwa?” I whispered, eyes falling back onto the dead man before they snapped back to Seonghwa, “What—what is—”

“Shh,” He whispered, pushing the hair out of my eyes as he gently caressed my cheek with his gloved hand, “You’re safe now, nothing’s happened.”

“But—” I had to gulp hard, heart hammering against my ribcage as Seonghwa’s round eyes were the softest I’ve ever seen them be, lips pulled into an almost motherly smile. He was calm, way too calm, as if he was used to this, “But the man’s dead, I—”

“He shouldn’t have tried to rob a woman.” Seonghwa’s sharp words cut me off, his grip slipping towards my chin as he grabbed me firmly, pulling my head closer to his, “He was a dangerous person, I couldn’t let him hurt you.”

Upon hearing his words I shuddered, eyes reluctantly traveling lower on his body, stopping on the black gun he held in his free hand, making me gasp, “Seonghwa, who are you—”

“I can keep you safe.” He cut me off once again, tilting my head back by my chin, our gazes meeting, “You and Arin, I can keep the both of you safe, never to worry about anything again. I can give you luxuries, vacations, anything the two of you want. Good schools, high education for Arin, whatever she’ll want in the future. I’ll give you all of that in exchange for a little something.”

I gulped, throat dry as my heart hammered against my ribcage furiously, my skin cold from the chilly air but from the lack of the adrenaline too, “What?”

My voice sounded small and afraid, but Seonghwa just smiled gently again, closing his eyes as he inhaled slowly, “Move in with me.”

“Wha-what?!” I yelped, trying to yank my head out of Seonghwa’s grip, but he held me firmly. Suddenly, he started leaning closer, making me shrink back as I was afraid he’d point the gun at me if I didn’t do what he asked of me.

“I’ve grown fond of you and Arin; I want to keep you safe.” Seonghwa explained, making my mind a jumbled mess of questions, confusion, and fright, “Did you know the father of your child has hired a detective to follow you two around? He wants to take Arin away.”

“What?!” I screwed my eyes tightly shut, head thumping from Seonghwa’s confusing words, he wasn’t making sense, “He hasn’t even been in her life, why now?”

“For money, of course.” Seonghwa sighed, tone growing colder, and I opened my eyes to find him sneering at the wall behind me, “He’s not a good man, Arin can’t fall into his hands—”

“And she won’t!” I exclaimed, gripping the collar of his leather jacket rather desperately, “How do you know all of this?!”

“I’m Park Seonghwa,” Seonghwa answered with a humoured chuckled, gripping my wrists as he removed my grip gently from his collar, “son of the chairman of Park Enterprises. You do know my family owns every nightclub in the high end of the city, right?”

I nodded, shocked to find out he was the son of the powerful Park Senior. I gulped, suddenly mulling over his words, wondering how much of it was true, “And?”

“Underground activities are much more fun than the legal ones, Y/N.” Seonghwa chuckled, bopping my nose with a gloved finger, making me flinch back, “I’m just saying…I’m the most powerful man in probably the whole country, are you sure you want to miss out on this proposal?”

“I don’t trust you.”

“You’ll trust me soon enough.” He grinned, a little wicked and devilishly handsome, then leaned down and pressed a kiss against my cheek, leaving me stunned. I averted my eyes when his gaze fell on me, and accidentally looked at the dead man. Something coiled in my stomach and I had to gulp down the bile in my throat, fighting against the nausea that warned me that I would throw up as my body started shaking again, “Don’t look at him.”

Appearing in my sight, Seonghwa gently turned my head away and smiled softly again, “Deal? For Arin?”

I gulped, realizing I was crazy for what I was about to say, “Deal, for Arin.”

Seonghwa grinned and then threw his arm around my shoulder, turning me away from the dead man as he led us back onto the main street, at least eight masked men hurrying out of a black van and inside the alleyway. Seonghwa didn’t let me look back as he clicked his tongue and ushered me towards his Mercedes Benz. I steeled my nerves and reluctantly sat inside, fidgeting in the leather seat.

“I still expect us to go on that date tomorrow.” Seonghwa said once buckled up.

“Date?” My eyebrows furrowed as I looked at him, the engine purring to life loudly.

“Did you really think it was just a casual hangout?”

“Yes.”

Seonghwa chuckled and then faced ahead, pressing play on the radio, “Have you ever been to Paris, my dear?”

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[qvicksilversass]

Hey you with the sad face

(John Walker x reader)

Recruited by Valentina to spy on clean up after the misfits, you can fix almost anything, except a way to get them to trust you. Then there's Walker, he's the only problem you don't want to fix. words: 6021 warnings: violence, lots of swearing, angst, bit of fluff, ptsd flashbacks, mentions of parents with cancer and dementia an: watched Thunderbolts, mainly for Bucky, definitely not expecting John Walker. Heard a good song and started writing again after a year -ish. My first Walker fic, so let me know if anything's off. x p.s. I've called his son Hobie, I can't find his name anywhere, if you know, let me know x

For months you'd drifted, taking any job you could to pay for your dad's treatment. So, when Valentina called recruiting you to rebuild the tower for her in exchange for his fees. Well, you jumped at the chance. You should have realised you were signing away your soul. After the tower, she never stopped. Forcing you from one job to another.

Now she's dragged you into a new mission, cleaning up after the new Avengers. Oh, and she wants you to spy on them for her, easy right?

Every single one of them regards you with suspicion the moment you step out of the elevator behind Valentina, that and annoyance.

Valentina doesn't wait for a greeting. "This is y/n, she's here to clean up after you."

"Yeah, how's she gonna do that?" Bucky spat back at her.

Valentina pushes you forward like a prize, "Y/n here can fix anything; your weapons, your suits, buildings, bones, you name it. She even fixed up this place for me…."

You glare at her, crossing your arms. Yeah, like you did it out of the goodness of your heart. Not that you had no choice, stuck in a contract you could never escape. You hated working for Valentina, nothing was ever enough.

“Can she fix it so you're not a bitch?" Yelena quipped.

“Unfortunately not.” You snicker, earning an amused smile.

"Remember why you're here y/n." Her lips press into a tight smile and you step back behind her, rolling your eyes.

“Yes, ma'am.” 

You mock-salute her, noticing Alexei giving you an approving grin, "I like her.”

"You should all get acquainted. You'll be spending a lot of time together. She goes with you on your next mission, Barnes."

Bucky gets in her face, but it doesn't faze Valentina, that you are impressed with.

“You don't tell us what to do.”

“You need all this right?” she smirks and his jaw sets, knowing she's right,  “do this little thing for me. She'll be great, won't you y/n?"

“Y/n.” 

“Yep, great.”

She heads for the elevators, her knowing smile grating on you almost as much as the sound of her heels. There's never any kindness with Valentina. You can breathe again when the doors close, her malevolence leaving with her.

“I hate that bitch.” You and Walker grumble in unison, both sharing an amused smile. He wasn't what you expected from Valentina’s files.

“Yeah, she's not a nice person.” Bob pops his head over the sofas, making you all jump. Had he been hiding all this time? 

“That's an understatement, Bob.” 

You sit down, not expecting them to follow your movements. They all sit across from you as if you're at the world's worst job interview. Not nerve-racking at all.

 “So you're here to spy on us right?” Bucky states, more than asks.

“No, just clean up.” You answer as steadily as you can, fighting the urge to fidget, make too much eye contact. Anything that would give away that, yes, that's exactly what you're here for.

“Right.”

“Are those contacts?” Ava asks.

You shake your head, pulling your hair over your eyes a little more. Forgetting that the purple was strange to most people. 

“They're cool.”

“Thanks-”

“So, what can you do?” Bucky interrupts, impatient.

“Fix stuff, I guess.”

“She already said that.“

“Break your arm, get shot, I can heal it. Accidentally destroy a building, I can rebuild it. I can fight too, when I have to.”

None of them are convinced. You don't have a suit, a code name, you're a nobody as far as they're concerned.

"How come we've never heard of you?"

"I stay in the background, I guess."

Well, you did, until Valentina got her claws into you.

Bucky fires more questions at you, watching your every move. Hoping to make you nervous, trip you up. And fuck, you'd never been more intimidated in your life, desperately trying not to show it. 

“Is this what you always do between missions?” You ask, snarkily, “just sit here?”

“We do today.”

Remember who you're doing this for. You exhale, slumping back against the leather, pretending you're bored, irritated. Unsure how much longer you can keep it together.

The sound of bone cracking and a scream fills the room. You turn to see Alexei, his arm dangling at an odd angle. 

"Alexei, what the hell?!" Yelena screams at him, "did you just break your own arm?"

"Fuck, man."

“I want to see her do it!” Alexei grins at you expectantly, sweating a little. How is he not crying in pain right now? 

You run over, still not quite believing what he's done, "What if I was lying?!”

He just shrugs his good shoulder.

You feel along his arm for the break, conscious of the Avengers crowding around you. That familiar current tingles as it flows down through your fingers. Purple energy wraps around his arm and after a few seconds the bone cracks back into place.

Alexei feels over his arm in fascination, “So worth it.”

“You're crazy.” Yelena smacks his now-healed arm.

“It's even better than before, she can stay.” He moves his arm around, punching the wall, testing it as if it were a new toy.

“Do your eyes always glow like that?” Bob asks, observing you with curiosity and you give him a quick nod, "huh."

Your eyes go to Bucky, hoping you'd won him over too, though if he's impressed, he doesn't show it. His phone beeps and he frowns down at it.

“Is that?”

“Yep, let's go.”

You follow behind them, down to the tower basement and up the ramps to the trucks. 

“So what's the mission?” You fall into stride beside Bucky, him trying his best to ignore you. The others shrug past you onto the truck, Bucky's metal arm blocking your way when you try to follow behind them.

”Nope. You stay here, that's your mission." 

“I can help.”

You knew they wouldn't trust you straight away, you told Valentina as much. But how would you ever get them to trust you if they never gave you a chance?

“Valentina sent you. I don't trust you…sorry.” He closes the door on you with a sly grin.

Oh, he's definitely not sorry. 

Tyres screech and the truck disappears out of sight. Leaving you standing there fuming, feeling like an idiot. You turn to see Bob wave them goodbye. He tugs at his sleeve, peeking up at you through his hair, "I can show you your room, if you like? You don't have to tho-"

"I'd love that, Bob, thank you. At least you're nice."

You follow him back to quarters before hanging around the tower. Wandering the endless corridors and getting lost more times than you'd ever admit. I mean, you rebuilt the thing. You're so bored that you find yourself curled up in bed, scrolling through your phone. Anything to stave off sleep.

It's midnight when you hear the thundering sound of boots, then voices bickering in the hall outside your room.

“What did I say?! I told you to give her a chance!”

"She could've patched him up, now we lost the intel- ”

“I wanted to check her out first, Val-”

"Fuck, don’t worry about me, I'm fine..."

“He needs y/n.” 

“Go on then."

“Why should I knock?!”

“Oh, for-”

You yank the door open and lean on the doorframe, arms crossed. They're all dirty and battle-worn, though none as bad as Walker. He's leaning on Ava, holding onto his side, dark red covering his hand, dripping onto the floor.

“Told you I should have gone with you.”   

“You wouldn't have lasted five seconds.”  Bucky grumbles and you scowl back at him.

You'd have lasted at least ten.

"Hello? bleeding out here..."

Ava steps forward, exhausted from holding Walker's weight, "Can you help him? He won't shut up." 

Ava and Yelena help him onto the bed, lying him back. Blood covers his suit, he must be in agony. You sense the bullet, fragmented and cutting into his tissue. Working their way to his organs.

"How did you get shot?" 

"With a gun genius…"

"Hey, be nice, do you want to die?!" Yelena smacks his ear and Walker fumes up at her, his knuckles white with the pressure he's putting on his wound. The other Avengers step back into the hall and you give them a reassuring smile. Bob, still sleepy, the only one that stays in the room with you both.

Blood pools over onto Walker's hand, his breathing heavy. He's lost a lot of blood already. His face is a sickly shade of white, and you can tell he's trying to hide how much pain he's in. You see it in the clench of his jaw, the way his eyes dart to the wound. Filled with fear when he thinks no one's looking.

"I thought those suits were bulletproof?"

"Yeah, so did I."

“Hey, Walker, just let me…” You lift his shaking hand from the wound and begin to cut away the suit, assessing the wound. You'd only seen these kinds of wounds with powerful shotguns at close range. In soldiers hit with explosive shrapnel shells. Someone wanted to kill him, painfully and slowly.

"Noo, not the suit..." his head falls back and you think he might pass out. 

"Sorry, I'll fix it later…relax okay?” 

You focus on the wound, repairing the tissue as you have a thousand times before. The shrapnel and what's left of the bullet dislodging and clattering to the floor.

“Woah…you got pretty eyes...”

Your power also has a sort of anesthetic depending on how bad the injuries were. You guessed he got a big dose from the wonder on his face. You grin down at him.

“All done.” 

“Look at that,” You hear the relief in his voice, him grabbing over the now soft healed skin, “thanks, new girl.”

He sits up too fast, trying to stand but fails, his weight falling onto you. Bob takes his other arm and you both help him to stand. 

"Okay tough guy, let us walk you to the common room?" He grunts in reply, though he lets you hold him up and you reach round, grabbing what's left of his shield. 

“Oh, I've got your, erm, Shield? Taco? Sorry, want me to fix it?”

“Nah, still waiting on Bob.” 

You look to Bob for an explanation. He seems a little embarrassed though he doesn't say anything. You heal the rips and stains in Walker's suit as you walk, dropping him onto one of the sofas, careful not to hurt him. Bob sits next to him and Walker grumbles, shrugging off his concern. You saw right through it, and you had to admit it was adorable.

“Rest a while, you'll be okay.” 

Bucky and Yelena are deep in conversation by the windows. You head over, hoping they'd actually listen to you. They stop talking as soon as you're in earshot. Rude.

“You should find who shot John. They wanted him to suffer; they might come after more of you.”

“They wouldn't stand a chance y/n, but thanks.” Bucky dismisses you, checking a notification on his phone. 

“Yeah, John was just careless.” Ava shouts, trying to rile Walker up.

“I'm still here!” 

“Is he okay?” Bucky asks.

“Give him a minute.”  You smile and head back to your room, leaving them to de-brief. Walker nods as you walk by, Bob giving you a warm smile.

"Night y/n."

If you thought healing Walker would help your case, you were wrong. Bucky avoided you the next few days, hell, they all did, except for Bob. You're so frustrated, itching to help, to do something, anything. When they all sneak off again, you wait a second then follow. Hiding outside the briefing room, listening in.

“...terrorists trying to be the next Hydra, Rateliffs organised a rally in East Detroit.”

“We take him in, stop it before they gain more traction. There's gonna be lots of civilians so we need to minimise casualties-”

“I can definitely help with that.” You poke your head around the door and Bucky rolls his eyes at you.

“No.”

"Bucky, it's been days, please let me help.” You give him your best puppy dog eyes still his frown doesn't waver.

Ava lets out an exasperated sigh. You're not sure if she's sick of you or Bucky, “Well, did you find anything on her?” 

“Not till she started working for Valentina." He admits, clearly still unsure about you.

“Nothing bad, though?"

Reluctantly, Bucky shakes his head.

“Then can we go now?”

“Ugh, fine. She stays in the truck.”

"Come on, fucks sake." You mutter to yourself. You'd have to take it, at least he's let you go this time. Plus, it wouldn't be hard to sneak away...

“You sound like Walker.” Bob smiles over his shoulder at you from the kitchen, making a new recipe and your irritation dies away.

"They treat him like crap too?"

"Trash, actually." John smirks, smoothing down his hair and your face heats up when he nudges your shoulder. Have his eyes always been so blue?

"Wow, you're all assholes..." you call after them only half-heartedly, not quite knowing what that was, you never blush. 

"Except you, Bob.”

The rally is being held at an old railway depot, surrounded by abandoned buildings and junkyards. A poor area, forgotten and full of angry souls, the perfect place to recruit.

You've made your way there from a few blocks away, keeping to the back of the crowd. It's made up of mostly young men, talk of revolution on everyone's lips. The main guy, you guessed Rateliff doing his best to brainwash the people to his cause.

"If you want me to help, you have to tell me the plan.” You know you're annoying him. Bucky's still seething that you followed them from the truck. But you hated being left in the dark, it made you anxious.

He keeps his voice low so as not to draw attention, “Stay out of the way till we need you." 

“Fucks sake when will you trust me.”

“Valentina sent you, so probably never.” 

You start to reply, then you notice the quiet. Rateliff's stopped talking, people in the crowd are no longer cheering. You grab Bucky's arm pulling him back.

“Wait…this is a trap.” 

“How do you-?”

He stares down at you, only half believing you. You sense broken knives and cracked chambers in worn-out guns. Men in the crowd begin to move towards you, crowding around your position.

“Well, we're surrounded so…” 

The few civilians who are in the crowd start screaming, all running past you. Bucky pulls you along with them and shoves you behind a wrecked container.

“You, stay there.” Bucky warns, and you find yourself watching them fight off Rateliff’s men, feeling useless. Though they were all impressive, your eyes are drawn to Walker. The way he moved, the way he used his shield with such skill...his suit, you wonder if it's all padding under there.... Nope, not the right time y/n.

Explosions pull you out of your thoughts, cars and old freight on fire around you. They're closed in, surrounded, taking fire from buildings. They need to get back to you, back to cover.

Fuck it, you can't sit here and hide; you had to help them. Bucky wouldn't give you a weapon, so you grab a metal bar. All you had to do now was avoid getting shot.

You charge the first man from behind, kicking his legs from under him and knocking him out with the metal bar. One down...the group turns to you then, mocking you.

So you do what you always do when people don't take you seriously: you get angry and you focus. Remembering what your dad taught you. You let them come to you, anticipating their moves. Hitting pressure points and taking them down as quickly as you can.

“Is she using a metal bar?”

“Pretty fuckin well too.”

You stop and turn to see them watching you, a little too confident, liking the impressed look on Walker's face a little too much. You hit the last guy extra hard, showing off.

“See, told you I could-”

The breaths taken from you as you're shoved back. Walker shielding you from the bullets aimed straight for your head. Both of you hit the ground hard, his weight on you a second too long. He roughly drags you behind a car, sitting beside you.

Shit, this isn’t fun anymore.

"You're supposed to stay back.”  He mutters, dusting himself off. Raising an eyebrow at you, he pulls a bit of dust and concrete from your hair.

“At least I cleared a path for you.” You half smile, batting his hands away, hiding your fear. Though you know he sees through it.

Bucky and the others join you, scrambling behind the car, all trying to catch their breath.

“We need to get out of here, there's no cover and Rateliff's long gone-” Bucky starts, an explosion shaking the ground beneath you, covering you all in dust.

“Does it always go this badly?!” 

“Only on a good day!” Alexei roars, firing blindly over the car.

“Walker, you get her back to the truck. We'll draw their fire, meet you there.”

You're surprised when Walker doesn't question Bucky, he simply nods, holding his hand out to you. You take it, his fingers soft in contrast to the worn leather gloves. He pulls you along, keeping low, keeping you behind him. Constantly checking for threats, protecting you.

“Who taught you to fight?”

“My dad, he'd be pissed if he knew I was here…”

You can make out the road back to the truck ahead of you, only there's a group of men blocking your path. Walker looks behind you for another way through, frowning.

“Those guys you knocked out are getting up.”

He shoots you an annoyed glance. You don't care, there's no way you'd kill anyone if you don't have to. You fix things, you don't destroy them. You do have to admit that it's backfired on you both now. More men are joining the small group and even more are running out of the buildings. Shooting at Bucky and the others, drawing them away.

"How many goons has this guy got?"

“Goons?" John scoffs, rolling his eyes at you, “we're not in a fucking movie y/n.”

Okay then.

“Think you can take them?" You put on your best authoritative voice, punching his shoulder, and you can see him watching you for a second. Unsure if you're serious, your grin winding him up.

"Stop."

"Go, Walker! I'll cover your six!" You yell dramatically, enjoying his annoyance, at making him smile, shaking his head at you.

"Wow, I can't..."

He checks it's clear, creeping behind the men, tapping one on the shoulder. The guy turns and Walker punches him square in the face, knocking him out instantly. He turns to smirk at you before near effortlessly taking down the rest of them. You're more impressed than you'd ever let on.

He motions for you to run to him, thinking it's clear and you see the figure charge at Walker, too late to warn him. He ducks, spinning round and hitting the guy with his shield. The force of it sends him flying back, hitting the concrete so hard it cracks. Walker runs over and bends down, pulling off the assailant's mask and stumbling back.

“Walker?” You approach him slowly, a tentative hand on his shoulder. He tenses up, running his hand over his face. “Walker, are you okay?”

“He just came running at me, shooting, I thought...” 

Oh no.

The boy is too still, too lifeless. He only looked about thirteen. What was he doing mixed up in all this?

“Is he dead? Walker?” 

“I don't know."

You brush past Walker, kneeling and checking the boy's neck for a pulse, relieved to hear the faint beating. He must have hit his head, blood ran down his face, his breathing ragged. Maybe crushed ribs, internal bleeding? Fuck, Walker had done so much damage, he wouldn’t last long.

“Hey, it's okay, I think I can heal him…" You turn to Walker, hoping to reassure him.

“They killed him…what fucking choice did I have?“

Shit, this isn't good. You realise he's not listening to you, he's not seeing the boy, he's seeing that guy the day his friend died. Staring down at his shield, wiping away blood that isn't there. Pulling at the helmet he wasn't wearing. Back to feeling the effects of the Serum, newly running through his veins hazing his mind...

You want to help Walker, but if you don't help the boy, he'll die. You begin to heal the boy as Bucky and the others rush over. You try to signal to them that Walker's not okay. Only they're too furious to notice.

“Walker, what did you do? That's just a kid!” Bucky shoves him, Walker still lost in his head, he can't focus, can’t concentrate.

“No, he killed Lemar, he's one of them…” 

“What's he talking about?”

 "What's wrong with him?”

“Walker?”

Your powers fade, the boys injuries healed and his heartbeat steady. That took so much out of you, a few more moments and he'd be gone.  Exhausted, you pull yourself up, stepping between Walker and Bucky.

“Stop, you know he has ptsd right?”

They look between each other, how could they not know? They'd worked with him for months, they must have seen this before, talked about it?

“He’s stuck in a memory, my guess the day Lemar died-"

The boy screams, pulling a knife and charging at you. Ava knocks him out and you all give her a shocked look.

“What?”

“I just healed him.” You groaned in frustration, you’d need time to heal him again, though a 'thanks' would have been nicer.

“He's just knocked out, he's fine.” She dismisses you, heading for the road. You stay close to Walker, guiding him.

“How many times you gonna hurt innocent people Walker?”

Oh, come on Bucky. He had to get that dig in, even after what you'd told him.

“He came at me with a fucking gun!”

You have to hold Walker back, couldn't help but feel bad for him. His face set in anger, eyes filled with shame that they’d seen him like that. Seen him struggling to shake his flashback. You'd think Bucky would understand more than anyone. You thought of your dad, how devastated he was for days after a bad spell.

Yeah, Walker's an asshole sometimes, but Bucky always holds that over him. Every time he makes a mistake. Making sure he knows his place. Even in your short time with them, you'd had enough of it.

“Oh for fucks sake, Bucky, again?”  You step in front of Walker again, like you're shielding him, like you could protect him. Your mind back in all the times you'd had to do the same for your dad.

“How many people have you all killed? That guy was a terrorist, you mean to tell me if that was Steve, you wouldn't have at least considered it?”

That got to him, Bucky steps back from you, his anger wavering, “This never happened before." 

“That you've noticed. He's likely been hiding them from you."

“We aren't doing this now. Get him back on the truck.” Bucky growls and pushes past you. You realise you're shaking, not just from anger, from memories of having to protect your dad, keep him safe. From grief, god you missed him so much.

Yelena walks beside you, “Why are you sticking up for Walker?” 

“I'm sick of all the hypocritical shit, you're all as bad as eachother, give him a fucking break.” 

“Hey, calm down.” 

“She's got a point,” Bob whispers into your ear, anxious and soft through comms, “You're all just people who've done bad things trying to be better; you should be supporting each other.”

You shoot them all a ‘see, he gets it’ look and they storm back to the truck.

“Thanks Bob.” You whisper.

“No problem, y/n.”

“That's so weird, he’s like a voice from above.” 

The ride back to the tower is tense and quiet. Walker is still out of it and trying to hide it. You're all exhausted, Bucky glares at you every time you catch his eye, only Alexei seems happy.

Well, that went well.

After a long shower, you need a drink, need to clear your mind. The quiet bar a few blocks near to the tower drawing you in. Booths and low lights, only the sounds of people chatting; perfect. You order a beer, your phone ringing the moment you sit down.   

"Valentina. It's all work. Nothing about you, they're not plotting to kill you. They'd like to if that helps? They're saving people, doing avenger stuff."

There's a pause on the line, she doesn't believe you, "Get them to trust you, y/n."

"You should make me official, maybe they would-"

She snorts, "yeah, okay, no."

"Why's that so funny?"

"You fix things y/n it's hardly-"

"I can fight."

"What use are you injured? You can't heal yourself or your bloodline, look at your father,” did she actually laugh? Your grip on your phone tightens, wishing it was your hands around her neck, "you be a good girl and I'll keep him alive. Be a shame if he went the same way as your mother…."

"Fuck you Valentina." You hiss down the phone, not wanting to draw attention to yourself. 

"I own you y/n, don't forget that."

You heave for breath, slamming your phone on the table. How could someone be so evil? You brush away the tears that sting your eyes. You wouldn't let that witch make you cry. Mom developed early-onset dementia, made all the more cruel when her doctors discovered a brain tumor.

You lost part of her every day, until there was nothing left. Until she became frightened of her own husband and daughter, leaving you and dad devastated. A few years later dad was diagnosed and you'd lost it, how could you go through that again? How could you lose him? Your best friend?

"Hey, you with the sad face.” 

The voice catches you off guard and it takes you a moment to register that it's him.

"John?"

"Ouch, using the first name? Want another?" he asks, pointing to your half-empty glass.

He heads to the bar, and you try to collect yourself. He looks softer without the suit, his armour, more anxious, his fingers gripping the bar. Guess he was as okay as you were. Maybe you should go.

"Who got you so upset?”  He sits opposite you, beers clanging on the table. His hair is messy, you guessed from the shower, falling into his eyes, and you notice a few scratches, contrasting red on his cheek.

"I'm not." 

"Your face says otherwise."

Thanks for that, Walker

Ugh, you could lie, what was the point now? You wanted them to trust you, despite his reputation and gruff nature you had a good feeling about him. 

"Valentina asked me to spy on you guys," he raises his eyebrows in mock surprise, "but none of you talk, ever. About anything. She doesn't like me giving her nothing."

You take a drink and smirk at him, picking at your fingers.

"What has she got on you?" He asked, leaning forward with a hint of concern his eyes.

“She's paying for dad's cancer treatment.” You answer sadly.

“Can't you heal him?” 

"Nope, not myself or my bloodline. If I stop working for her, she stops paying.”  

"Fuck. I take it back, you deserve the sad face."

You both take a drink and you're fidgeting with the bottle, avoiding his eyes. You can sense he wants to talk, though he's not sure how to go about it. Whether you'd listen, so you decide to help him out.

"What about you? Why have you got the sad face?"

"I'm not sad." He dismisses you, shifting in his seat his gaze drifting over the bar.

"Yeah, you are. You hide it, but I see it.” You don't want to make him uncomfortable, but after today, it might do him good to talk to someone. So you both didn't go home to the quiet again, to the emptiness.

"You heard the stories, pick one..."

"Not from you." 

He takes a moment, actually looks at you, like it's the first time in an age someone's actually wanted to hear what he has to say.

"You'd actually listen? Why though?"

"Because I'm nice." He laughs and you give him the finger, knocking your bottle over the table, spilling beer everywhere. He laughs even harder at that. You scowl at him getting tissues from the bar.

"Fuck you walker, I am."

You mutter wiping over the table, the tissues making more mess.

"Everyone just sees me as an asshole.” 

"You are an asshole." You flop back down on the seat, smirking at him.

"Wow. Thanks."

You catch his eye again, smiling earnestly, "But I know that's not all you are. I got one good ear, try me."

He's struggling, wringing his hands and he doesn't, can't look at you as he talks.

"That today, it keeps happening. Worse since the void, most times I can feel them starting, but today, it hit me like a truck. You knew?"

"My dad was in Iraq, he was never the same after. He has these flashbacks where he's stuck reliving his traumatic memories. He won't tell me what he sees, but I know it's bad."

Walker studies you with understanding, "I guess it takes the edge off being part of something again. Maybe Olivia will let me see Hobie some more...I don't know." His eyes light up at the mention of his son, his smile easier and you liked it.

"What's he like?" John watches you strangely, like he's surprised you're interested.

“Hobie? He's fucking amazing. Nothing like me. He reminds me of Lemar sometimes. I miss him...part of me died with him that day...the good part…after Olivia left,  I was...I am fucked up, I was nothing, had nothing, I thought about…fuck, ignore me...”

That little sliver of happiness turns to pain and you wish you were closer, that you could comfort him. You knew. You'd been there. For weeks after the void, what you saw breaking you all over again.

"Well, I'm glad you didn't go through with it, who else would've saved my ass today?"

"That is fucking true, they still don't trust you, except for Bob."

"I love Bob!" You grin and he holds out his bottle.

"Right?"

You clink them together in mock cheers.

"I do though, I trust you."

"Thanks, Walker."

"No, I mean it, and for what you said earlier, helping that kid.”

"Bucky was so pissed.”

“Ain't he always?”

You get more drinks in, both of you are a little lighter. He tells you hilarious stories about Lemar, his eyes lighting up when he does. You tell him about your mom, all the good times and you both find comfort in being able to remember. To feel a little less alone.

Time runs away from you and the bar gets busier, noisier, harder to hear what he's saying. He's moved to sit by you, having to lean closer so you can hear him. But the way he's talking so close to your ear, you start to burn up.

“Want some air?”

You make your way through the bar, swaying a little and you both lean against the terrace railing. You close your eyes and let the cool air soothe your face.

“I'm gonna help you. Get you out of her nasty ass claws.” He's staring out over the city as he says it, and you're not sure he actually means it.

"How?" 

"I don't know yet."

He turns back to you, features serious in the glow of the low lights and it shocks you how sincere he is.

“But I will, I promise you.”

“It's weird you being nice like this.” You lean closer, your arm brushing his, conscious of his eyes on you.

“Must be the beer.” He murmurs and you fight the urge to meet his gaze.

“Yeah, must be.”

Finally, you tilt your head to him. He's leaning a little too close, eyes drifting to your lips, but you don't want to stop him. Your skin bristles where his fingers brush yours.

“Hey, you wanna-”

His phone vibrates and rings so loudly that you both jump back. He rummages in his pocket, clumsily turning the phone round and squinting down at it, 'Barnes' flashing over the screen.

 “Hey Bucky!” 

"Are you two drunk?" Bucky asks, that usual grumble in his voice.

"Nope."

"Definitely not."

"Fuck no."

"We've got a problem. Sober up and get to the tower. Now...” John imitates Bucky as he speaks and you splutter, desperately trying not to laugh, "You know this is a video call, right?" 

"Yes, sir." You both salute.

"Oh my god."  

Bucky hangs up on you and with one look, you're both laughing. You'd be in trouble for that later.

"Coffee?" You hold out your hand and he takes it, letting you pull him up him stumbling into a table.

“Ugh, it will take more than coffee.”

You link his arm, both putting weight on each other, somehow staying upright, "you don’t get much downtime with this job, huh?”

“Nope.”

You walk back, ducking into a coffee shop and downing as many espressos as you can carry. Still not completely sober when you meet the others at the tower.

“Someone's blowing up New Jersey again, we gotta go.”

“Again?”

You get no answer, Walker pushing you forward and up the ramp. A bright orange sky greets you in New Jersey, thick smoke and ash covering every surface.

You can make out the shape of someone hovering in the air, flames firing from their hands engulfing everything in their path, buildings and cars exploding, people screaming and running.

"I'm not sober enough for this." Walker groans, surveying the chaos. His skin is ashen, and he's holding onto the door of the jet like it's the only thing keeping him upright. All the way here, he'd been getting greener, all those espressos and beers not mixing well with g-forces.

“You can fix all this?”  Bucky asks and you nod.

“You'll have to put the fire out first."

"Right, you two get all these people away from the fire," he scans you both, "think you can handle that?" Oh, you were in trouble.

"Yes, sir-" You start soon regretting the snark when you see the look on his face.

"Don't push it, get to work." He warns, before he runs with Yelena towards the fire. Both yelling something about Asgardian power diffusing handcuffs...

“You heard him, keep up Walker.”

“Yay….”  

A few more missions later, you're already two months in. They're finally warming to you even Bucky. It helps you've given Valentina absolutely nothing. Making you happier the angrier she gets at each check in. You're waiting for her to pull you out, put you on another job but you're starting to like saving people.

You love backing the misfits up and Bob, well he's hilarious. You'd long since admitted your ‘secret mission’ to them. Not that they're surprised, you're a terrible spy.

After mission drinks with Walker became your favourite thing. Always the same bar as that first time, that same booth, like a ritual. Sometimes he'd be there first, waiting for you, sometimes you'd walk there together. Seems you both needed a friend. Friends. It should have been enough, but the more time you spend with him, the more your attraction grows.

You start to wonder if it was the beer talking that night, just a bit of loneliness. There are times you think he might feel the same. When he sneaks a glance at you, a little too long. When he thinks you don't notice. You wonder if he ever catches you, like now. You're just back off mission and he's messing with his hair, all roughed up from fighting. Completely oblivious to how gorgeous he is.

“Can you believe y/n’s been here two months?”

“Yeah she's getting like furniture.” Yelena jokes and you poke your tongue at her.

Alexei walks by you, patting your shoulder and flashing you a big grin, “I always said, I had a good feeling."

"So, you gonna stay?" Bucky asks giving you a warm smile, and you sit up. Wait, he's smiling at you?

"Do you want me to?"  You whisper, nervous now.

“I guess.”

"Yeah, she's helpful sometimes."

“Wouldn't be the worst thing…”

Walker watches them, waiting to add his take, "I do, I definitely want you…on the team I mean, god.”

"Smooth."

"My god, Walker."

“Can't say no to that, y/n,” Bucky smirks, ”meet back here tomorrow, nine am? Ugh, the witch is back.”

Valentina strolls in, taking mission notes from Bucky and everyone scrambles. The last thing you needed was another 'talk' with Valentina.

“Hey y/n, wait.”

Walker approaches you, a little shifty, is he nervous?

“Hey Walker, drinks later?”

John passes you a letter and you're confused, “Is this a love letter? John…you could text me-” You mock him a little, secretly hoping it was actually a love letter.

“Just open the damn letter.”

You do. Slowly. For effect. Him getting Impatient, you loved winding him up. You tear open the envelope, holding out the letter. Manhattan Cancer Care Centre? This place costs a fortune, even more than Valentina's clinic. 

“This says it's paid up as long as he needs it?” Your gaze keeps shifting between Walker and the letter, not believing what you're reading. That night, he actually meant it?

“How did you?” 

“Don't ask.”  You're searching his eyes, not believing them when he simply shrugs, the paper heavy in your hands. No matter how he did it, you would never forget his kindness. You didn't even think he knew how much this meant to you.

“He's there now?”

“Yeah, you can go see him.”

“It’s been nearly a year. She wouldn't let me see him.” You check the address, mumbling.

Happiness rushes over you, a sense of relief you haven't felt in years. So overwhelming you don't know what to do first. You start to run for the elevator, then run back. Shit, you should thank him. Flinging your arms around him you kiss him on the cheek.

“Shit, I didn't mean to make you cry. “ He reaches up to brush tears away, his touch lingering too long, leaving goosebumps and you'd never wanted to kiss him more.

Fuck it. You close the distance between you his breath hitching slightly when you press your lips to his. Soft and longing, his fingers tangled in your hair, gripping the base of your neck. The other at your waist holding you closer, the firm heat of him against you. Smiling, he pulls away a little, you chasing his lips.

“Thank you, John.” You whisper, biting your lip. His face flushes, squeezing your waist before you let him go.

“My god, go.”

You had so much to tell dad, though you'd leave out the getting shot at part. Valentina's still talking with Bucky and you hold the elevator.

Just one more thing.

“Fuck you, Valentina, I quit.”

“Excuse me?” Valentina turns to you, indignant. For once, you don't care. Didn't have to.

 “I said, fuck you. You don't own me anymore. I work for them now.” You grin and give her the finger as the door closes. 

Yelenaa joins Walker, who's watching you with amusement and something else she can't place. She shoves his shoulder.

“Wow, you did a good thing.”

“I guess.“ 

“How does it feel?”

“Pretty fucking good.”

▪ Masterlist ▪

[ivesambrose]

𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒 𝐌𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐚𝐠𝐞𝐬 🥂

1. 2. 3.

Do I dare ask how 2023 has been for y'all?

Pick the image you feel the most pull towards or have been seeing around you a lot, if you feel drawn towards multiple, so be it. 🤍

To book a personal reading with me DM or email me at Ivesambrose@gmail.com

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Winter Specials

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𝓟𝓲𝓬𝓽𝓾𝓻𝓮 1

Your central theme is rising from the ashes. You're in the process of the most intense metamorphosis yet. A new dawn, a new day, a new life.

You'll feel empowered, passionate and obsessive about your pursuits. You'll allow the old skin to be ripped off of you and you'll no longer be scared to be you.

This year brings you connections, admires, collaborations, unions both in personal and proffesional life.

There's a certain duality in you that you haven't explored yet, but you will in the coming months.

You'll have good health for the most part compared to the previous year. Your family will be taken care of. The hope and assurance you may have lacked from them will come through. It will feel warm and refreshing. (Goes for chosen family too)

Romantically, you may be focused on your career or just living your life a lot. But someone might want to build a legacy or long term relationship with you.

If you're already coupled, the focus goes to building what you have and looking after domestic affairs and see things bloom.

Proffesionally, you will have your most successful and blessed year. Money shouldn't be a problem and even if it seems like it, your needs will always be met and you'll still have more.

Some of you might enjoy ghe fruits of your labour extensively. This goes for the ones who work solo or run their own business etc

Academically, you might feel a bit disinterested. Might move out from your home or change subjects. Take up something completely new. Might face your fears and push through but make it a point to follow your inner calling for the most part.

Themes centered around relationships and partnerships are significant this year as well opportunities coming out of the blue that call you to heed your intuition and step out of your comfort zone or limiting mindsets, that will inevitably lead to travel, progress and new experiences.

Make the best of this year, it'll feel like you're finally on the journey you've been preparing yourself for all this time.

𝓟𝓲𝓬𝓽𝓾𝓻𝓮 2

Your central theme is using your emotions as your guiding force, using it as fuel and not seeing it as weakness. Quieting your mind so you can listen to your instincts more. Healing from things you don't speak of, that you've felt have persistently held you back from your potential and finally taking the lead. You'll feel like the main character in your life finally, instead of seeing everything through the lens of a side character no one remembers.

You'll feel motivated to follow what makes your heart happy. You may be faced with choices a lot this year, a lot of this or that in several aspects of your life. Trust yourself to make the right decisions.

You'll be learning about your mind and body this year, so incase you go through ups and downs in your health you'll be able to manage it but also guide others too.

Romantically, you might as well get your happy ending. I see that you're mostly focused on the complete picture. Not bothered with what is going on in between too much. So you'll get what you're manifesting eitherway.

Proffesionally, a rebirth or evolution will take place. Something new that will grow overtime. You'll be driven about it. So success will be imminent.

Success in academics as well, feeling proud of your achievements.

Themes around revolution, personal development, healing generational trauma, humanitarism, technology as well being open to the unknown will also be prevalent this year.

Learn to make amends and embrace the breakthroughs this year has to offer you.

𝓟𝓲𝓬𝓽𝓾𝓻𝓮 3

Your central theme is related to wealth, inheritance, change of lifestyle, receiving help, building a legacy and feeling more secure. Some of you will see a success or change they did not see coming, it was hidden for the longest time.

Some of you may even be leaving poverty behind for a more financially secure life.

You'll find yourself blooming, physically especially. A glow up in your looks and quality of being is going to be imminent. Focus on health, beauty, food, routine etc as well. A lot of you will be experiencing vivid dreams, strange synchronicities etc too will be learning about esoteric subjects, occult or the subconscious mind a lot. You'll also be receiving success and recognition or you might be building your steps towards it that will eventually pay off in the long run.

You'll feel like this old self or image of you has died. You may even mourn it for some time but will feel more powerful, confident and self assured once you're past that.

Romantically, you'll be feeling desirable and might attract a lot of suitors. Your self concept will improve exponentially, so will your standards. So nothing less than what you want. Your intuition will be at all time high. Fear no one and nothing. Some of you might also be moving to a new house too or might end up owning something in your name.

Proffesionally, although you might deal with competition you won't be too worried. You know your skills, you'll have your resources, your work will speak for it self and you will stand out.

Friendship, community, discoveries and gains are also some of the themes surrounding you this year.

Let your imagination create for you. You'll soon realize there's so much power in allowing yourself to receive what you desire by simply being instead of doing too much.

[mullermilkshake]

He still won't let you go.

Part 2 <- -> Part 3

Kento Nanami x Fem reader! Tags -DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT,Imprisonment,Held captive,Referenced domestic violence,Psychological abuse,Self preservation sex though non-con,Breeding,Trying for a baby,Gojo is just there,You don't trust anyone

<<< For more Nanami content, click this link to go back to the Masterlist! >>>

“That is it.” Kento dragged you back up to his apartment kicking and screaming. 

You only just narrowly avoided your head on the door frame when he threw you inside the apartment. No one had even bothered to emerge from their apartments to even see what the commotion was about, not even the woman in six-o-two.

“I have had it with your attitude and it is now something I cannot stand. I thought we were making progress but you have left me with no choice.” He hadn’t wiped away the blood splatter from his face dripping down the back of his shirt covering it in red. 

“Just let me go. This is fucked, you need help. I have a life and you aren’t a part of it!” This all probably sounded like a domestic, no one came though, no one knocked to see if you needed help.

Silence. His back faced you, the door lock click was muffled. Kento didn’t move from that spot. You glanced around the room for anything to defend yourself with, broken shards of the lamp still as they were, close to cutting your knees.

Nothing. Nothing of substance that could get in some damage to slow that tank of a man down in order for you to get to the lobby and call the authorities. Though right now, his silent stance was even more frightening than if he was to shout in your face and throw you around or hold that knife to you.

You still couldn’t see his face and his body language didn’t give away anything for you to gauge what he was thinking. It made him all the more dangerous.

“I told you how I felt, so why can you not accept it? This is how it is now and you aren’t making anything easier by hurting me. That lamp…” He turned slowly and leant against the hallway wall by the picture frame. “It hurt me. And it might hurt you if you aren’t too careful, you'll cut your knees.”

A few steps and he was in front of you, crouched down. “This can be a good thing for the both of us, but it can get difficult if you continue to fight me every step of the way.”

If you pushed him now with every ounce of your might and strength, maybe, just maybe you could get to the door quick enough to unlock it and try again. Your throbbing scalp was a reminder of what would happen if you got caught again, he was on high alert enough as it was. 

It was indicative of the fact he took your wrists in either hand and squeezed a little, not enough to hurt, more of a warning. “Even now, you can’t even bear to look at me even after all I've done for you, all you think about is leaving me. I can give you everything, anything that most people would jump at the opportunity to have. A loving partner who worships the very ground they walk on. But you just turn your nose at it.” 

He’s going to snap at any moment, I just know it.  

You could see it, hands pulled away and his own wrapped around your throat until your legs stopped kicking, and those frantic arms would thrash and claw at his face until they went limp. No air left in those burning lungs until that shine left your eyes. 

He didn't. Kento placed your wrists in one hand and brought the other up to your face. “I told you I love you, Darling. Why is it so hard for you to understand that there is no one on this earth that will ever love you as much as I do? You make me a better person.”

If he was a better person with you present, you would really hate to see him without you. Like he was some axe wielding maniac who destroyed everything he touched and morphed into a deranged puppy dog whenever he saw you just to make you humanise him.

Yeah, that was utter bullshit.

“I’ll admit my mistakes and apologise for how aggressive I may have been out in the hallway. But had you not attacked me, maybe we could have talked about it like adults.”

Like adults. Speaking to you like a child and he lifted your chin to face him, like you wouldn’t speak unless spoken to. “Now, let’s finish this.”

“...Alright.” Some called it Stockholm syndrome or sympathising with your captor. 

You called it playing the long game, because as soon as he trusted you enough to leave the apartment, you were gone.

And you’d make sure this time he would never find you.

-----

“Can you pass the salt, Darling?”

Ten months. Fifteen days and nineteen hours.

Kento Nanami didn’t let you go.

You guess you were just desensitised, numb to this dire situation, trying your damnedest to play the part of loving partner until you were certain you could leave. Sometimes you actually started to believe it, a fleeting thought that you shook away to remind you of all the damage the bastard had done to you.

Anyone who knew you must have assumed you were dead.

“Here you go.”

You picked up the salt and handed from one end of the table and next to Kento who was to the left of you. It was hard not to struggle to push past the intrusive thoughts like overhanging branches, holding back the urge to launch it at his head, or shove it down his throat and laugh whilst his friend watched on in horror. 

Satoru Gojo started coming by the apartment for the last few months now, coming once or twice a week for dinner and talking of business and boring stuff you never took time to listen to. 

It was a test. A test to see whether you had learned your lesson or would jump at the opportunity to get away and tell Gojo everything. You didn’t dare make a move, but it wasn’t because you assumed Kento would catch you in the act of escape using a man you didn’t know. It was because you assumed Gojo was in on the whole thing and would sell you out.

He must have been. No one could have enough to talk about the same subject for two hours over dinner each time. And most of it, Gojo didn’t really acknowledge you. 

You kept quiet most of the time, it could be that. There was a fine line between overdoing it and appearing like you were there against your will and it took time, but you pretty much had it down by now.

Starting down at your plate, you forced yourself to eat something. Dinners like this never gave you an appetite, just sitting more or less in silence with Kento’s hand plastered on your thigh the entire time. 

Gojo put his cutlery down and turned his head towards you. This dinner was different. “So, enough boring stuff tonight, we're about to close this deal and I think the countless over time we’ve gotten has given us enough work talk. Let’s hear more about you, do you work?”

Like Kento would even allow that. He didn’t even let you speak when Gojo addressed you, in fact he placed his hand over your thigh. “She doesn’t. But we were thinking of starting a family soon, weren’t we, Darling?”

Hiding your spluttering in your glass was difficult, though Gojo didn’t seem to notice. Kento’s fingers dug in, squeezed just enough to give you a cue, just like all the other times you were expected to agree with him.

“Yeah…” What the fuck. “Soon.”

Gojo smiled, grinned more like. “Wow, that’s awesome. I never expected the two of you goin’ for that step just yet, you've been together, what, a year?”

“The time is right. You’ll know when your time is when you stop being a bachelor.” His response wasn’t a dig like it sounded. It was more just a defensive comment, a way to tell Gojo to back off without actually telling him.

Holding his hands up, Gojo chuckled. “Woah, there’s nothin’ wrong with not settling down. Why stay with one person? That calls for commitment.”

Kento got increasingly defensive and jealous if Gojo was even in close proximity to you. But now he was actually acknowledging you, it wasn’t clear how this was going to go. One thing you knew was true was that there wasn’t a chance in hell that you would ever have children with this maniac.

You were going to be out of this place before there was even a chance.

“When will you ever grow up?”

“Eh… Maybe in like twenty years and I go through my midlife crisis.” Gojo looked at you once more with a smile sweeter than honey. “Is he always this grumpy? Maybe you’re going through a midlife crisis already, Nanami.”

He was grumpy and far too serious. Knowing that was all on the surface and the chance that Gojo would not have encountered the side of Kento you saw every day twisted large knots and lumps in your stomach.

Again, Kento cut you off before you managed to get a word out. “I think it’s important to know what you want in life, cruising won’t get you anywhere.”

His hand moved and pulled the material of your dress up to expose the skin of your thigh, the pad of his thumb caressing there absentmindedly. So close, you could take the knife from the table and stab it straight through his hand, or his wrist enough to draw blood and distract him to get away.

But then how would you deal with Gojo?

“Goals are important.” You said, placing your cutlery down and being acutely aware of Gojo’s lingering stare.

Remain calm. Get involved. 

“They are.” Kento’s hand relaxed. “I also think that dessert is important too. I won’t be a moment.”

He cleared the table and took the plates away and all you wanted to do was breathe into a paper bag. Kento never got dessert.

You did.

“Hey.” Gojo's voice was only a whisper, waving his hand a little to get your attention. “Are you alright?” 

It was a test. This was a test to see if you really had accepted the life Kento gave you. You wanted to be honest and ask for his help though how could you? This life made you distrust anyone that came to you. The old woman in the lobby, a delivery guy who noticed you from the doorway in the corner of the living room, and everyone who didn’t try to find you.

“Yep.” Nodding helped convince yourself.

“He isn’t mistreating you, right?” Fuck it really was a trap.

“No. I love him.” You forced the bile in your throat to stay as it was.

He didn’t seem convinced and fiddled with his napkin, making a glance towards the kitchen every so often. “If you need anything. You can trust me.” 

Yeah right. You couldn’t trust him as far as you could throw him.

“I’m fine.”

You thought about that interaction the entire duration until Gojo was leaving. He made little discreet glances towards you as he ate his dessert, talking away and entertaining Kento like nothing had happened. Part of you wished you had told him the truth, taking a leap of faith just in case he was trusting, the other part criticised you for even thinking that. If Kento caught wind of it, you would have no luck getting out. 

Next time you left, Kento wouldn’t be so forgiving if he caught you.

“Gojo sure seemed friendly with you tonight.” The door hadn’t even fully closed after his friend left for the night. 

Fiddling with the little belt of your dress settled your nerves for just a second. “I think he was just being polite.”

Kento didn’t look at you right away, but turned and moved past you through the apartment. “Come to bed.”

The dishes were piled up in the sink, cleaning the dishes on your own was the only time you got to yourself really if Kento was in the apartment. “The dishes-”

“I said come to bed.”

Like a mouse you were, trudging behind him and following to the bedroom. Perhaps that cable hanging out the outlet was enough to hook over his head and choke him to the point of passing out? It would take a while and you were hardly in shape to even try and take him on, but you were getting desperate.

Kento got on the bed and leant his back against the headboard, he tapped his lap and invited you over. Maybe I could try something like how I used the lamp again?  

Fat chance. That day, the one you almost escaped, he took every lamp, picture frame and heavy ornament that wasn’t nailed down and threw it all out. Like you had stated before, he was an intelligent man and learned incredibly fast, so fast you couldn’t keep up.

He seemed to enjoy it when you straddled him and sat there over his legs so he could see you, study you like a portrait in an art gallery. Sometimes he would sit and look at you for what seemed a lifetime while you twiddled your fingers and looked anywhere but his direction.

He might have been thinking of all the ways he loved you. You only thought about ways you’d hurt him, end him for good so he could only plague your nightmares.

Kento was studying you right now with his hand on your thigh just like before. “Maybe we should start a family right now. I don’t think we should wait-”

“N-no.” Your facade slipped for a second and his expression changed. Angry. “I mean… we’re in a one bedroom apartment.”

It took you off guard completely, never anticipating that it could be a sentence slipping his lips tonight. He really was deranged and how he never saw that you were less than honest with your responses eluded you.

“And?” He spoke so sure like it was already decided. 

Quick, think of anything and don’t fuck it up.  

“There’s no room for a baby, we should look for somewhere with an extra room, right?” You couldn’t have a child with this man, even if you got away, he would be tied to you for years. 

“You do want a child with me, don’t you?” Would he now see through your lie enough to undo all of the trust you had built with him?

“Yes. I do, yes. But everything has to be right, we need more room.”

He nodded, it worked? Holy fuck . “Let’s try anyway, it could take a while and we have plenty of time to find a house or bigger apartment, I could buy it outright, actually.”

Wait, what? There was nothing you could say, nothing that could diffuse it without getting him getting suspicious of your loyalty to him. You already sensed his hands moving your dress and there was already his growing hardness between your legs.

“You agree, finally. I’ve wanted to bring this up for a while but I was sure you’d say no. You really have settled in, haven’t you?”

So you gained his trust enough and he believed your lies, but at what cost? This wasn’t a win at all, another dead end that you couldn’t dig yourself out of without undoing all the hard work you did.

Change of plans, there wasn’t time anymore to plan and wait, you’d need to find an opening soon to get out for good before this shit show went any further. 

Kento pulled at your dress and got it over your head to which you weren’t wearing anything underneath. So naturally, you pulled your arms back to cover yourself. He held them fast, gripping at the wrists, not entirely hard enough to hurt, but it stung all the same. 

“You’re beautiful, Darling. Don’t hide yourself.”

Holding your arms he pulled you close and sucked your nipple, licking in ways that should have felt good, but being desensitised and numb took that all away from you. You remembered to make some noises and avoided overdoing it, no one that hated someone's guts would get that much enjoyment.

“Good girl.”

You played the part and moved your hips over his cock and it garnered a rough inhale from him. Full on ass rubbing him slowly, sensually like you actually cared about him. Since your first time despite his big talk before that, Kento had always gone slow as though he was afraid to break you like you were made of glass.

Something changed enough to throw you off guard, an almost animalistic nature that Kento had not displayed in the bedroom before. He was rough and firm, almost rushing to pull his belt loose and get the zip down to pull his hardened erection out.

“Let’s start the rest of our lives together… and then I’ll know.” He spat on his hand and rubbed the length of his cock.

“Know what- fuck” He pressed himself inside you, slowly at first so you could adjust. It still stung.

“Then I’ll know you haven’t been lying to me this whole time.” This was the test? There was no way you could back out now.

And it went on like that, most nights. Kento fucking you senseless until he was satisfied, filling you up a few times with the stamina of a horse. If you were lucky, you’d finish quickly enough to get it all out of the way to finish the night, but even then he didn’t leave you alone, he cuddled you until he fell asleep.

You often stayed up thinking about ways to get out, to hurt him just like you always did one thousand times in the day, and you didn’t dare to move a muscle because it would wake him up.

It always woke him up.

Maybe you’d get lucky and he’d die in his sleep. If only.

Weeks went past and finally you managed Kento to allow you out to look for somewhere bigger to live. Instead of trying to stop it, you figured if you appeared eager, there might have been some leeway. And you were right on the money.

The first time you left the apartment in months, almost a year and Kento was still sceptical. You noticed a mile away so many gaps to leave the first time, fighting the urge to take the bait, a wide open door or Kento would simply leave the room.

So fucking hard not to scream at the realtor that you were kidnapped and this horrifying man who claimed to be your husband was mad, insane and deranged with his fucked up ideals on love.

But you didn’t. You bided your time, though anxious due to the time limit you had. It was agony until one day you had your chance. An apartment on the main street of the city you pushed for, claiming it was ideal and close to schools for this imaginary baby. You wanted to vomit.

Kento was distracted. In the next room talking away to the realtor, but on this day, there was another one. A team of two because the other couple coming to view the apartment didn’t show.

“The open planned kitchen is very in right now.” They waffled on and all you could do was dart your eyes back and forth to the other room, the pit of your stomach flipping with growing adrenaline.

With your heart thumping in your throat, it was time. “If you don’t mind, I left something in the car, I’m going to head down quickly. If my husband asks where I am, just tell him I won’t be long.”

She nodded and continued her walk around the kitchen with a clipboard behind her back in her hands. You practically ran to the door and opened it faster than you should have, but took a moment to leave it ajar without a noise.

 One step, two steps, then you ran, sprinting down the hall to the elevator with an overwhelming sense of Déjà vu only this time the elevator doors opened immediately. You back hit the wall flush and whilst the doors closed, your eyes trained on that apartment door.

He’s coming out, he will and he’ll lock me up. He’s going to know. 

He didn’t emerge, there was no movement at all by that door, not even a dramatic scene where the last thing you saw was him running towards you. Nothing. You wanted to breathe a sigh of relief but you just couldn’t.

Kento Nanami was an intelligent man and he would figure it out eventually. If not already.

You weren’t sure where you would go with no money or phone, but anywhere was better than here. The elevator doors opened and you held a breath just waiting for him to be there and he wasn’t. 

Run. Fucking run. 

Out of the lobby and into the apartment complex car park, past Kento’s car and out back into the world. The plan. That was the plan. You made sure to look behind you every so often, you would see him before he saw you and then you could hide.

“Woah, easy there.” You weren’t looking and bumped into someone.

“G-gojo…” Another fucking test. It was a test, a stupid test.

Another fucking test! You were right not to trust Gojo. Before you could pull away he took you by the shoulders. “Are you alright? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

“What are you doing here; let me go I need to leave-”

“What happened?” His voice dropped, more commanding than you had ever heard.

“No let me go- let me go I can’t go back there; please don’t do this! What are you even doing here; he told you to come didn’t he?!” He was built like a bulldozer, no matter how much you fought he didn’t move.

“Woah, woah listen to me. He asked me here because we were going out for dinner after.” It didn’t calm you, but you listened. Stupidly. “What happened- I was right… wasn’t I?”

He had a look of concern, not something like he was in on it, but that still didn’t mean you were going to trust him. “He took me, he took me away from everyone. I'm not his girlfriend and I just want to get home. He’s crazy!”

“Shh. Stop shouting or you’ll draw attention.” And under his breath he muttered. “I fucking knew something was up with him… Not again.” 

Not… again? Who else had he done this to?

“Here, take my keys and get in the car. Lock the doors. I’ll sort this out.” As stated he handed you the keys and made his way towards the apartment complex without another word.

You contemplated running, taking his keys so he couldn’t follow you. Deciding against that, you climbed in the car and locked the doors, Kento certainly wouldn’t be able to get to you now and Gojo was without a car.

The downside was you couldn’t drive. And stealing a car would land you in jail… Jail was an option, Kento certainly couldn’t get you there. You shoved the car keys in your hand and let the keys poke out between your fingers while they shook in anticipation.

Gojo being on your side didn’t sit right.

Kento will come out at any moment. Gojo will be too with a smile on his face because it's all a ruse, a joke. They’ll take me back to that stupid apartment and never let me out. 

But that didn’t happen either, Kento hadn’t even come out of the complex after Gojo went in. In fact the only thing that changed in that parking lot in what was a lifetime to you was blue flashing lights.

A knock on the glass that made you yelp.

“Can you open up?” Gojo, looking worse for wear and a bloodied lip.

You didn’t want to, you didn’t. “No… no because you’ll send me back I know it!”

“I won’t do anything you don’t want me to do. Look…” You followed his hand, pointing away from him. "He can't hurt you anymore; he can't hurt anyone."

Kento came out, in handcuffs. Escorted by three police officers.

“Just… open the door, alright? The police, they’ll want a statement.” 

Nothing could happen if the police were just there and Gojo did look concerned. They must have fought up there in the apartment, and the realtors probably witnessed everything.

Were you safe now? You opened the door and Gojo held out a hand to help you up and you took it. Kento didn’t notice you, his head was down and he, from what you could see, looked even worse than Gojo.

“I won’t hurt you. Please don’t think I’m not on your side.”

So that was it? It was all over just like that and it didn’t seem like the win you thought it was. You weren’t going to be free of him completely, not for a while although Kento couldn’t be anywhere near you in a locked up cell.

That was good enough for now.

Kento Nanami couldn’t keep you anymore. But he'd still always be sitting in the back of your mind.

He was a demon in living form.

Tag - @yourhornysister

DISCLAIMER - Crossposted from my AO3 - I do not own any of the characters or anything from the anime. This is a work of fan fiction and is absolutely not representative of the views or intentions of the original creator(s).

Also please don’t post any of my work without permission thank you!

[lazycats-stuff]

Please a Clark fic, where reader is a new intern adn Clark is just love struck. And he slowly starts to court (?) the reader, and at some point take him home for a home-cooked meal, where the reader meets Conner and Jon. I think Conner at first doesn't really like reader, but Jon immediately clings to reader. After some time Conner warms up to reader and they all become a happy family

Of course my dear anon. Some superfam sounds good right now. Also, I have decided to make (Y/N) from Gotham... It sounds good, trust me.

Summary: Clark likes (Y/N). Conner is suspicious.

Warnings: I don't think there's any... Fluff mostly.

" Morning Clark. " Lois said to him as she passed him to get some coffee. Clark simply nodded as he booted his computer to start up. He had a piece to write about Lex Luthor scandal which for once wasn't brought to light by the Justice League.

An anonymous whistleblower who contacted Daily Planet with a shit ton of damning evidence. Clark jumped on the said opportunity to expose Lex, both as Superman and Clark Kent.

" Working on the Lex thing? " She asked as she came back, leaning on the edge of his desk, glancing at the computer screen to check the progress. " Yes, it's great to see how he's slowly crumbling. The stock share prices are going down faster than our faith in humanity. " Clark said with a smile, making Lois chuckle.

" Yeah, it's truly satisfying. Also, I have some news for you Smallville. " She said, stopping to sip her warm coffee. Clark raised his brow, fixing his glasses as he leaned back in his chair, smoothing his pants out.

" What those might be Lois? " Clark asked, turning his chair to face her fully.

" We got an intern. Someone from Gotham it seems. His name is (Y/N) and he will work in this department. " Lois stated, lifting her cup of coffee as if she was silently saying finally.

" Oh really? " Clark asked, tilting his head in curiosity. " It seems that Perry has decided to throw us a bone. We could use a courier. " Clark joked and Lois chuckled.

It's nice to have an extra set of hands. " Also, did you say he was from Gotham? " Clark inquired and Lois nodded. Clark whistled quietly. Gotham people are often tougher and more direct and even more blunt.

Clark knew that very well, ahem, read Bruce.

" That will be a nice change of pace. Someone with tough skin. " Clark noted and Lois nodded.

" Now we have someone to take as a bodyguard when we go out. Everyone is afraid of Gotham people. " She joked, sipping more of her coffee before her eyes moved forward, right behind Clark. He turned his chair around to check what she was looking at.

She was looking at the new intern who entered with their boss, Perry White. The room fell silent as Perry stood with a tall guy, (H/C) hair and (E/C) eyes in a suit, standing with a stoic look on his face. And there was a Gotham aura and vibe radiating from (Y/N).

Clark had to stifle a chuckle.

" Everyone, this is our new intern, his name is (Y/N). He transferred from Gotham. Be nice to him. I don't want chaos around here. As for you (Y/N), you'll be working with Kent. He is more than capable to show you the ropes. " Perry said and Clark raised his brow from his seat.

Being a mentor isn't new to him anymore, ever since Conner came as a clone and stepping up ever since then. And since Jon came into the picture, he had no choice but to really step it up as a father. Since the mom left...

Clark rubbed his forehead for a moment, then set his sight back on (Y/N). Clark looked him up and down subtly. He... He is drop dead gorgeous in Clark's eyes. Clark did have a few relationships with men in the past, but he was always more attracted to women.

But the tides have changed.

Clark has been struck with probably love at first sight. He never really felt like this before... So lovestruck. Oh Bruce would have laughed so hard at him in this situation...

Oh God and he is responsible for (Y/N) too? This won't be good in the slightest. He gulped quietly as Perry led (Y/N) to him and the office started bustling with activity again.

" This is Clark Kent (Y/N). Kent, you'll be making sure he gets the basics down since I'm sure Gotham Daily Planet is not up to standard with us. " Perry joked, making (Y/N) laugh.

Clark's heart did a few flips at the laughter. Oh dear God, (Y/N) is so damn adorable when he laughs. But he looks so damn tough too and it makes it a bit more difficult to read.

Gotham does make you more tough.

" Also, this is Lois. " Perry introduced and (Y/N) shook hands with her. Clark stood up and shook hands with (Y/N), whose hands were so soft. Oddly enough. For a Gothamite especially.

" Clark, nice to meet you. " Clark said with a firm handshake. (Y/N) nodded. " (Y/N), nice to meet you. " He said politely.

" Well, I'll take you around the office to show you around and then you can help Kent or whatever else he needs. " Perry said before he led (Y/N) away, telling him about the Daily Planet and how good the place is.

" You are in love Smallville. " Lois said behind her coffee mug making Clark sigh quietly.

She won't let this go.

" Don't you have some work Lois? " Clark asked her, clearly not in the mood to deal with her teasing. Lois simply snickered and raised her hand and mug in a way to show she surrenders and left to go to her desk, that was, coincidentally, right next to Clark's.

" This is will be fun. " Lois muttered under her breath, knowing fully well that Clark could hear her. Clark simply rolled his eyes. She was right, though, this was going to be fun. Clark listened intently to Perry and (Y/N)'s conversation. His super hearing is something that he can't just turn off anyway.

Might as well use it.

After a few months, Clark decided to start making his moves. He decided to start with bringing some coffee every morning to them both. (Y/N) was suspicious at first, the Gotham nature in him telling him to not trust because, again, Gotham makes you on guard all the time.

Especially when someone is nice to you. Maybe (Y/N) is a bit more cold, but every Gotham native is like that. If you try to be nice to them, they are a bit suspicious. Can you blame (Y/N)? But, Clark's ambition and patience had slowly been paying it off.

It started with small cups of coffee every morning to get the energy going for writing and editing articles. (Y/N)'s editing skills were insanely good and Clark was more than impressed the first time (Y/N) showed him the finished version.

Then, (Y/N) was being sent out on the field with a camera to capture events and what not. Perry justified with the saying, you are from Gotham, you'll be fine.

And that turned out to be true actually.

One day, while dropping off some photos at Perry's office, his face was bloody and it was clear that there was some sort of brawl or a fight. Clark and the rest of the office was concerned, but (Y/N) simply acted casually, as if nothing had happened to him.

The only thing he is said is, 'You should see the other guy.'

It made Clark think of Bruce and his nature. Tough Gotham nature.

But Clark had a lot of experience with that nature. Again, dealing with Bruce's nature made it easier to navigate (Y/N). And although (Y/N) and Bruce are two completely opposite people in every shape and form, it still gave Clark good points what not to do and what to do.

And slowly but surely, he did it.

He asked (Y/N) to come with him to his house, for some dinner. A nice good, old, home cooked meal. A recipe his mom sent him so he could impress (Y/N).

(Y/N) was pleasantly surprised and decided to say yes. As well, (Y/N) knew that Clark is a father. 2 boys, if he could judge from his framed photos on his desk. One younger and one older.

Conner and Jon if (Y/N) remembers correctly. Jon is younger and Conner is the older one. And (Y/N) remembered that Clark was a single parent.

So, (Y/N) decided to accept and say yes to the call, never saying no to a good, nice, homecooked meal. And Clark was a nice guy too so it wasn't a bad thing. He was cute too and (Y/N) slowly started to like him.

So, entering his place, he was greeted by Clark's sons, Jon and Conner. Jon is a bubbly personality, immediately clinging onto him. (Y/N) thought that he was adorable.

But Conner was a whole another story. He was more cold and calculating and clearly suspicious of (Y/N). (Y/N) respected it. Don't trust people that have just entered your life.

All in all, the dinner went well and Clark and (Y/N) went on a few dates and soon enough started dating seriously. Soon enough, after a few years, the two got married.

However, during that time, Conner and (Y/N) got more and more closer. It was a nice feeling and was rather emotional for them both. Clark was happy and soon enough, (Y/N) had two boys to call his sons, despite not being biologically related to them.

[vxsellie]

𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑 𝐒𝐀𝐈𝐋𝐎𝐑. ⊹₊⟡⋆ ᴘᴀʀᴛ ɪ

astronaut!ellie x astrobotanist!reader.

summary. to be in close proximity with an adversary is already a shitty ordeal. to be trapped alone in space, though, is unlucky on a completely different plain. and yet, here you are. 4.6k wc notes. fair warning, i unfortunately dk everything abt astronomy! i looked into it as a career then decided i don't like math enough so i gave up,, that being said, if there are inaccuracies, look away <3 also, for any of my space nerds out there, firefly is inspired by planet HD 189733 b warnings. strong language & kissing (will be waaaay more in part two dw!)

"The term 'astronaut' derives from the Greek words meaning 'star sailor', and refers to all who have been launched as crew members aboard a spacecraft bound for orbit and beyond. The term 'astronaut' has been maintained as the title for those selected to join the NASA corps of astronauts who make 'star sailing' their career profession."

That is a rather poetic way to say "fucked".

Had you known the name of your assigned partner prior to launch, you perhaps would not have been so eager to sign your name on that sheet. Okay, that's a lie. Even if you did know Williams was to be your partner, you wouldn't have passed this up. Not in a million years.

What you're tasked with doing will irrefutably change history. Your name will be in history books until the end of time—which would be a dream if it weren't destined to be inscribed right beside Williams'.

You curl your knees up to your chest, grip tightening around the paperback book in your hands. The chair shifts sightly as you move, its wheels rolling easily across the thick white tiles beneath. Your eyes scan the words, though they don't fully register in your mind. You've been reading the same paragraph about terminology and aviation for the past twenty minutes. See, if it were up to you, you'd be reading a book that pertains much more interesting contents. However, seeing as everything in this stuffy shuttle was chosen by aerospace engineers and other boring old men, their choice in literature is lacking.

With a huff, you place the book face-down on the surface in front of you, turning your gaze back to where it's meant to be.

On the white metal table, an abundance of plants and roots are organized into individual squares, labelled by species and genus. You spent days sorting them and frankly feel a bit of pride at the sight of them—all living, breathing organisms trusted to be under your care.

It's the entire reason you're even on this journey. You and Williams are tasked with voyaging to FRFLY 4387236 b, or, as the astronomers have conveniently nicknamed it, planet Firefly. For the past seven years, you've been helping in the study of this planet in hopes that it could possibly become susceptible to withstanding life. So many sleepless nights spent hunched over textbooks and scribbling on chalkboards. All for this moment. For this trip.

Your job is to take care of these plants until you reach Firefly. There, Williams will exit the shuttle, do some astronaut shit, and bring you back a few samples of Firefly's terrain. Then, on your way back to Earth, you'll use these samples to test if the plants are able to survive in the planet's given conditions.

"Knock knock," You lift your head to see Williams standing in the doorway, her shoulder leaned against the metallic wall. Both of her arms are hidden behind her back. "You hungry?"

"Starving." You respond, rolling your chair backward, putting distance between yourself and the fragile plants.

"Well," She pushes off of the wall and reveals two cans of corn in each of her hands. "Good news for you, I've got food."

You scoot your chair closer to her, pumping your legs as it inches closer to her. She hands you one of the cans, causing a smile to split across your face. You hadn't even realized you were hungry, not to this extent at least. You'd been so occupied watching your plants and reading your boring ass book that the growing ache in your gut had evaded your mind.

"Thanks." You say shortly before rolling back over to your table.

You expect Williams to leave as she usually does, but, instead, she remains in the doorway, watching. You ignore her for a while, cracking open the can and tipping the pasty corn into your mouth.

Everyone back at the center knew of your rivalry with Williams. The two of you hadn't made it all that secretive, though, what with your screaming matches and harsh insults. Due to this, it was a shock to everyone that you'd coincidentally signed up for the same month-long mission to study Firefly. In fact, most of your coworkers placed bets on who would back out of the mission first upon realizing who their partner was. But neither of you did, much too proud to back down.

Since boarding, these past thirteen days have been an undeniably stark contrast to your time spent at the center. Back on Earth, you would never stop arguing, voices bounding off of the walls as you threw malign words at one another. In space, though, you've barely spoken.

You'll see her around, of course, but seldom will you engage in conversation. You'll tell her how much time is left until arrival and she'll remind you to eat, but that's about it. You sleep in separate cabins and work on separate assignments—you with botany, studying plants and their behavior to certain elements; her with physical exercises, training her body to withstand harsh conditions and lack of oxygen.

Due to this, you're rather confused as to why she hasn't yet left.

Her viridescent eyes flick over to the book on your table, then back to your face. She nods to it. "You've been reading?"

"Uh." Your eyes narrow. "Yeah."

"Anything interesting?"

"'Course not." You respond, tossing the empty can into the trash under your table. "It all reads like a textbook. Feels like I'm back in college."

She hums. "Yeah, I've tried a few of the crap they laid out for us but it's all shit. The cards are two player, the books are boring, and the music is classical."

"Ahh," You nod slowly, "That's why you're doing this."

"Doing what?"

"Talking to me." You say. "You're bored and need a second player for your game."

She grins as she holds up her can of unopened corn as though to make a toast. "A wise guess."

"Knew it."

"What, are you disappointed that I didn't come to chat?" She asks, allowing her hand to fall back to her side. You shoot her a glare and her grin widens. "Just a question."

You turn your gaze back to your plants. A few of them have already died, their leaves wilted and roots decaying. You're not sure what the cause to that is. They have water, soil, and falsified sunlight. Not to mention they're loved—which some plants would kill to experience—because you treat the damn things like they're your children. What more could an arabidopsis need?

The flakes of their dead corpses litter the white surface of the table, painting the nearly organized surface in a sheet of death and sorrow. Yeah, you could use a bit of a distraction.

You pull your gaze back over to your partner, who remains patiently awaiting your reply. "Consider this your lucky day, Williams. You've got yourself a second player."

Her lips tug into a smile, though she fights it. "Luckiest day ever."

She leads you down the hall to where a large, circular window seat is located at the end of it. Outside, the stars and cosmos watch your shuttle soar through space and time. You lower yourself onto the soft cushion as Williams leaves to grab a deck of cards.

It's surreal, sometimes, the view. Such vast endlessness is withheld out here, such a colossal concept when compared to the insignificance of human life. You can name an immeasurable quantity of stars, galaxies, and cosmos, but you'd be lucky to have knowledge of even one percent of what lies out here.

You turn your gaze away from the window before the idea of endlessness becomes too much to bear. Inside the shuttle is much less interesting, though. With white metal walls and thick ceramic tile floors. The entirety of it is crowded with wires and buttons and cords, each one working together to keep you and Williams alive in this void of nothingness.

Her footsteps patter across the tile as she turns the corner, hand now adorned by an unopened box of cards.

She's dressed casually, which you hadn't ever seen prior to your mission together., considering the center required professional clothing for all workers Since leaving, though, you've seen her in an abundance of states—from messy bed head and only a shirt and boxers, to that same professional uniform required back at the center.

Currently, however, she's wearing a white ribbed tank top and a pair of baggy jeans that sit low on her hips. So low, in fact, that the hem of her underwear peaks above the denim waistband. Her feet are wearing only socks, though, as per your request.

See, after a mere two days into this journey, you learned that Williams is really heavy-footed. On the second night, you found yourself unable to sleep due to the sound of her pacing the halls. Exhausted and irritated, you confronted her. You'd shouted at her, blinking through the darkness of the shuttle. However, much to your shock, she didn't argue back. She simply removed her shoes and agreed to wear only socks. That was the first instance that revealed this trip wouldn't be the agonizing thing you'd deemed it to.

"What do you wanna play?" She asks, settling into the cushion beside you. She begins to shuffle the cards as you think of your response.

"Slapjack." You say.

She chuckles. "Why, you wanna hit me?"

"Yeah, kinda."

"Fine then." She agrees easily, dealing out the deck. "Slapjack it is."

She passes you a stack of cards and you bring them closer, keeping them face down. Williams follows suit once her own hand is amassed. She starts the game via flipping one of them over between the two of you.

The shuttle continues to speed through the void of space as the interior buzzes and hums with lively wires. As time wanes on, you fins yourself enjoying the game you'd begrudgingly agreed to playing. Williams is competitive, in an endearing sort of way. She doesn't slap the cards very hard, but it's clear as day that it takes great effort to avoid doing so.

You've gained beyond triple the amount of cards that she has, the augmenting pile residing securely between your hip and the circular window. Your legs are criss-crossed, elbows on your thighs as you become increasingly immersed. Williams' legs are spread, one foot planted on the floor as the opposite leg is folded to her chest. She rests her left elbow on her bent knee, right hand doing most of the playing.

"Ha!" You bark out a laugh as you slam your hand atop a Jack of spades. Williams' hand comes down only seconds after yours, her palm slapping your knuckles. She groans, tipping her head back in frustration as you slide the cards into your pile. You grin at her misery before speaking in a taunt, "What's wrong, Williams?"

She levels her head, eyes narrowing in disdain. "Nothing. I'm just wishing I had a more tolerable coworker for a partner."

"Don't be a sore loser." You scoff, turning over another card between you.

She turns a card of her own, eyes lowering back to the game. "I'm not."

"A loser and a liar?" You chuckle, adding another card. King of hearts. "Pick a struggle, why don't you?"

"I think my biggest struggle at the moment is trying not to strangle you in your sleep." She reveals a seven of diamonds.

"Ah, but then you'd have an even bigger issue at hand." You lift your gaze. Her eyes flick between your face and your hands, afraid you'll somehow distract her from the game.

"Like what?" She indulges.

"Like having to explain to Miller why your partner is dead." You tilt your head. "And, more worryingly, why you didn't return with the plants as he'd instructed."

She tilts her head mockingly, a smirk tugging at her lip. "That's why I'd do it after you collect the samples."

"Mm," You hum, flipping a card. Her eyes dart down to it only to be rendered disappointed. Three of hearts. She looks back up at you and you're looking out the window at the stars whizzing by.

"Run out of retorts?"

"There's more to my job than gathering samples and returning home." You turn back to her, expression amused. "Once we re-board the ship after visiting Firefly, my job will only become that much more difficult. Keeping the samples untouched by things so small as the protons in the air, mixing the cells of Firefly dust and the plants' soil. And you, for one, are incapable of doing those things."

She places a card. Ace of clubs. "I could pour some dust into a bag of dirt."

"How much?"

"What?"

"How much dust is permitted entry into the soil without killing the plant or overriding the dust's adequacy?" You ask.

"Thirty thousand dust particles." She says with unwavering confidence.

"That's—" You blink at her, opening and closing your mouth only to find yourself completely at a loss for words.

She raises a brow at your speechlessness, remaining just as phlegmatic as before. You burst into laughter at the sight, hunching over yourself as you clutch your stomach. Williams' facade of emphaticalness instantly falters at the foreign sound, her eyes widening as you cover your mouth with your hand, eyes shutting.

"Don't laugh at me!" She grouses with a frown, though her eyes never leave your face. Her lower lip juts out into a pout. "I'm not an astrobotanist, how could I possibly know these kinds of things?"

Your laughter dies down as you lift your head. There's a residual smile on your face as you form a response. "That was my whole point."

Williams' expression instantly contorts into one of pitiful realization that she'd just given herself away without having paid any mind to your prior argument. She frowns, crossing her arms. "Whatever."

"The answer," you say with a shit-eating grin, "was .00785 percent of the collected sample."

Her eyes widen as she registers the vastness of her fallacy. Her lips purse. "Okay, asshole. You've proven your point: I might not be able to replace you in carrying out your own job."

"Might?" Your brow raises.

"I mean," She shrugs, "I could always just take a peek into that notebook of yours."

"I don't explain everything I know in my notebook."

"Maybe not, but you write in it enough that I'm sure I could grasp the main idea." She says. "Long enough to return to Earth, at least."

"Yeah, right." You scoff.

Before Williams has the time to formulate a reply, you flip over a card—thus resuming the tense game of slap-jack. The match is palpably nearing its end, though, as the two of you slowly dwindle in attention span. She's instantly drawn back into the game, no longer caring for your previous conversation.

Still, despite the dying investment regarding the game, the two of you continue to play it for nigh an hour more. Exoplanets, nebulas, and astroids pass you by as time fades with ambiguity. It's a funny thing, time. On Earth, it controls everything related to life and the slow passing of humans' existence. Up here, however, it's meaningless. You fly past galaxies in which an hour equates to seconds. Still, you and Williams remain untouched by the time that weighs life and death back on Earth. It's like magic, how it works.

"It's getting late." Williams says as she begins to file the cards back into the manacles of their tiny cardboard box.

"Is it?" You ask. "Because I can't tell."

She huffs a laugh. "I'm getting tired. How's that?"

"Better." You shrug. "More definitive."

She stands to her feet with the box in her hand. Once standing, she rolls her shoulders with a grunt—evidence of that indefinite time you'd spent together at this window. She calls out a haphazard "g'night" before walking down the white wiry hall to her cabin.

You remain at the window for a few more hours, watching in awe of the celestial bodies. You lean back, your head tipping to rest against the frame of the window seat. Space cradles your shuttle as you and Williams make your way through its core. You can see galaxies that look no larger than a gust of fog, though you know well enough to recognize them to be the homes of millions of planets and thereby withhold an insurmountable quantity of possibilities.

It's not long before the sight of it all lulls your mind into a state of slumber. Within it, you dream of everything, yet nothing. Of space and Earth and all of which resides between. Dreams are odd like that—tethering the unconscious mind to illogical things that'd never have been entertained otherwise.

The next time you wake, the hum of conversation greets your ears. You rub at your eyes before swinging your legs over the side of the cushion. The floor is cold beneath your feet, sending a shiver up your spine. You cross your arms to preserve warmth, then you follow the sound of talking until you're standing outside the Space Communications and Navigation (SCaN) room. It lacks a door, as every area of the space shuttle does, allowing you to poke your head into the room easily.

Inside, Williams can be seen hunched over a notebook with a thick pair of headphones over her ears. She scribbles something down on the paper while a muffled voice speaks to her through the headphones. You're about to turn away due to disinterest when you hear the familiar Southern drawl that can only belong to one man: Joel Miller.

You continue to watch for a moment—just to be sure they're not talking about anything too serious—then you're entering the room with a small smile. You crouch down beside Williams, leaning in to hear him through the headphones.

"Miller?" You say.

"Is that...?" His words trail off, too muffled to be fully understood. Then he's saying, "Ellie take ... -damn head- ... off."

With a huff, she obliges, reaching forward to unplug the cord of the headphones from the wall. A distinct popping sound emits from the headphones before Joel's voice is heard from the crackly speakers that are built into the walls.

"—Told ya t'get rid o' those before y'all's trip, anyhow." He's saying. "But ya never wanna listen t' me, do ya?"

"It's for privacy." Williams defends herself with an irritated expression.

"You're in space together." He says. "There ain't a need for privacy."

You laugh, settling down in the chair beside Williams. You brace your elbows on your knees, leaning over to peer at her notebook. The moment you do, she's slamming it shut and shooting you a glare. You frown at her, scowling right back at her defensively as she tucks the notebook away.

"Anyway," Joel says, "How've you two girls been up there? Holdin' up?"

"Ugh, barely." You respond. "Williams is a hard woman to live with. Especially in such close proximity."

Joel laughs. "Y'all still can't get along, huh?"

The two of you begin talking at once, defending yourselves whilst simultaneously blaming the other. Joel laughs, telling you to take turns speaking, reprimanding the two of you like children.

From there, you spend roughly two (Earth) hours talking with Joel. The talk begins casual as you both tell him about your experience up in the ether—from food preferences to sleeping conditions to living quarters. Then, as time wears on, it grows more professional. He's your boss after all, the one in charge of making sure everything runs smoothly.

You end up discussing the more boring topics, then—such as how Williams' breathing exercises are going, quizzing her on where to find the External Tank, and what to do in a hypothetical situation. He then follows that up by directing his attention to you next—asking how your Arabidopsis are doing, how much nutrition each root has required, and inquiring about the replication process within their cells.

The call eventually ends, leaving the two of you in a silent room, buzzing with electronics and wires. Williams has changed since last night, now dressed in a white button shirt with loose shorts hanging from her hips. Her feet are socked, as usual.

"Hungry?" She asks.

You shrug. "Not for anything here."

"What would you want, then?" She asks. "If we were on Earth, I mean."

You pause for a moment. Partially to think of your response and partially to gather your thoughts. This is getting a bit odd, you think, the way Williams has been acting with such a foreign sense of civility. Don't get you wrong, it's nice, just odd. Not her.

"What's in your notebook?"

She tenses a bit. "What?"

"I asked what's in your notebook." You repeat. "You've been acting strangely ever since we boarded this shuttle and I think it has something to do with that journal of yours."

"You have a journal, too." She says defensively.

"Yeah, for work." You say. "I wouldn't have a reason to hide mine from you."

"Oh really? Then let me see it."

"Fine."

You push to your feet and begin walking toward your cabin, Williams residing close behind. You enter the room, refreshed by the scent of soil and leaves. Williams remains in the doorway while you grab your notebook from the table of which you'd left it on. You return to her, pushing it into her hands.

With a scoff, she flips it open. You watch her face, not even looking at the journal's contents. You know what's in there—diagrams of radishes paired with notes on their atoms and composition. Your handwriting ranges from neat cursive, slanted and thin, to messy scribbles that are nigh unintelligible. Williams reads every single one, her eyes flitting through the pages, drinking in every word you'd deemed important enough to write down.

Her interest in the notebook could easily be passed off as mere curiosity, but you know her better than that. Unfortunately, you've grown to know the woman quite well through your plentitude of arguments. Due to this, you know her well enough to know she's biding time. She's reading every word so as to avoid revealing the words within her own journal.

"Cadmium." She suddenly says.

"What?"

"Here," She flips the book around, pointing at a note you'd etched to the side of one of your lengthy paragraphs on elemental reactions. "You wrote 'Arsenic: severely hinders plant growth due to high bioaccumulation' which is true, sure, but cadmium does the same thing and has been found far more often on planet Firefly than arsenic."

"Fuck off." You reach forward to yank the book from her hands, tucking it protectively under your arm. "Lead, beryllium, mercury, nickel, and fluorine do the same thing. I'm not going to write down every single element that's high in toxicity."

"No, but you could write down the most threatening one." She shrugs.

"You stick to your shit and I'll stick to mine." You tell her.

"Doesn't have to be that way." She says. "We could help each other. You're good with botany and chemicals and math, I'm good with astronomy and engineering and atmospheric shit. It doesn't matter that you know every element by memory and how they effect your little radishes—"

"—Arabidopsis—"

"—Whatever." She waves a hand of dismission. "The point is, you can know everything there is to know about chemistry, but it's useless if you're unable to apply it to our situation. I know Firefly like the back of my hand. You could use that."

You frown. "What about you?"

"What?"

"You can do three million breathing exercises, but that doesn't mean space will be any less void of oxygen." You say. "If you quit hiding shit from me, maybe we can help each other."

She glances down at the notebook still in her hand, a frown suddenly tugging her lips downward. With a sigh, she holds it out to you. You smile before opening the journal, fully expecting random career-related shit. You envisioned it to be full of information pertaining to her being an astronaut but, instead, you find that it's a personal journal. Like a diary, almost.

You'd been bluffing when you insinuated hers wasn't for work. You hadn't expected it to actually not be for work.

Inside, she there are sketches of things from around the shuttle such as the deck of cards, the galley, the crackly headphones, the oven that doesn't preheat correctly, the fire extinguisher, and you. God, there are so many pictures of you in here. Your side profile, hunched over a random book; the back of your head as you take a sample from your plants' vials; your eyes as you glare at her from across the hall.

Not only that, but there are small diary entries that tell of her day and her personal thoughts. One reads: "L/n was a complete asshole to me again today. Dunno what I expected, to be honest. For her to just suddenly be my best friend? Yeah right. She hates your guts, Ellie, get over it. Doesn't matter how many shitty cans of artichoke you toss at her." Another reads: "I hate those damn radishes. Not only because they stink up the entire fucking ship but because they're always stealing her attention. She doesn't eat, doesn't sleep. She just studies those fuckers until one dies and then she's scribbling in that notebook until she's fallen asleep on top of it. Call me pathetic, but I kinda wish she'd give me that type of attention."

You lift your head, brows furrowed. Williams isn't looking at you, though, she's looking down at the floor, her fingers fidgeting with one another.

You didn't know she thought of you like this, didn't know she gave so much of a shit. You two have hated one another since the dawn of time, having grown known for your undying rivalry. You'd never even entertained the thought of seeing Williams under any light aside from the one you'd grown accustomed to.

But, right now, seeing her like this—all fidgety and nervous—you can't help but soften a bit at the sight. She's not some mastermind who'd set out to ruin your chance at exploring space. She's not some atrocity placed on the Earth for the soul reason of destroying your day. She's just another human, another being in search of tenderness.

You return the journal to her. When she lifts her gaze to meet yours, her skin is tinted pink under her freckles, lips thinned. A smile spreads across your face and you take a step forward.

"If we do this," You say, causing her bright green eyes to widen, "You have to promise me that you'll stop calling my plants radishes."

"Done." She says, perhaps too quickly.

You let out an airy laugh before you wrap your arms around her shoulders and pull her face down to meet yours. She drops her journal to the floor in an instant. Her breath is a bit shaky when your lips connect, her body suddenly going stiff under your arms.

You laugh against her lips, which only causes her to lean closer as she chases the feeling of your lips on hers. She tastes of artichoke and desire, her hands sliding down your body before settling on your hips, tugging you closer. With each passing second, she grows more and more confident and you find yourself fucking dizzy from the thrill of it all.

Her fingers dig into your skin and she pulls your hips flush against her own. You suck in a sharp gasp, arms tightening around her shoulders. She hums into your mouth, content yet beseeching for more.

You suddenly pull away, tipping your head back a few inches. Williams frowns deeply, her pupils blown and her lips wet. "What?"

"We are not doing this in here." You say, casting a weary glance at the delicate plants within thin glass cases. If anything happens to them, this entire trip will have been proven futile.

Williams lets out a groan. "Damn radishes."

notes. WOOO !! this was so so fun to write, but also so goddamn tedious. if only i could show u guys how many fucking nasa tabs i have open rn. writing this also singlehandedly got me back into considering astrophysics as a career (tho that went away rather quick. i'm super good at math but i hate it so much. yeah, that will not be a job for me ! idts) anyway, stay tuned for part two coming soon !!!

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[ghostlynightpanda]

Hi! Can I have a request for Soshiro Hoshina x fem! Reader? (angst with good ending?)

Where the reader has been pushing him away or strictly focusing her duties rather than confessing her feelings for him? They both are friends but the reader falls in love with him and starts to avoid these feelings for him. Because the reader was insecure and thinks Hoshina deserves someone better than reader.

Unspoken Truths

English is not my first language, so if you find mistakes, feel free to contact me!

Synopsis: Haunted by insecurities, you begin to distance yourself from Hoshina, convinced he deserves someone better—someone stronger, someone more worthy. But when Hoshina refuses to let you push him away, you're forced to confront the truth: that to him, there was never anyone better than you.

Warnings/content: Hoshina Soshiro x fem!reader, 2.642 words

You slam your blade against the training dummy, sweat dripping down your forehead as you force yourself to keep going. One more strike. One more perfect movement. If you can just keep pushing yourself harder, maybe you'll drown out the thoughts that have been tormenting you for weeks.

"Oi, you trying to kill that thing or what?"

The voice is unmistakable. Hoshina Soshiro.

Your grip tightens on your weapon, but you don't turn around. You don't have to. You already know the easy grin he's wearing, the casual way he holds his sword like it weighs nothing, the sharp eyes that never miss a thing.

"You're training too hard," he continues, stepping closer. "Even for you."

"I'm fine," you reply, too quickly, too stiffly.

His brows furrow. Just a little. Most people wouldn't catch it, but you've known Hoshina long enough to recognize when something unsettles him.

"Lately, you've been all work, no fun," he muses, resting his weapon against his shoulder. "What happened to my favorite sparring partner who actually talks back?"

The words should make you laugh. Should make you roll your eyes and throw some teasing remark his way, like you always used to.

But instead, your stomach twists. Because you can't do this anymore. Not when every second spent near him makes your chest ache. Not when you've started seeing him as more than just your friend, more than just the vice-captain who always has your back. And definitely not when your heart decided, against all reason, that it belongs to him.

So you do the only thing you can. You take a step back. "I have work to do," you say flatly, turning away. "I'll see you later, Hoshina."

You don't give him a chance to respond. You can't. Because if you stay a second longer, you're afraid he'll see the truth in your eyes.

And Hoshina Soshiro deserves better than that. Better than you.

You tell yourself that distance is the right choice. That if you just keep your head down, keep working, keep your focus on the mission, this unbearable ache in your chest will fade.

But it doesn't. If anything, it gets worse. No matter how much you try to ignore it, Hoshina is everywhere.

His voice carries across the training grounds, his laughter effortlessly cutting through the tension of your days. He calls your name too often, teases you too easily, looks at you too closely. Every time you lock eyes with him, something inside you cracks a little more.

You feel too much—too much admiration for the way he moves, too much warmth at how he trusts you in battle, too much longing for something you have no right to want.

It's suffocating.

And then come the insecurities. The whispering thoughts that creep in when you're alone, when exhaustion strips away your defenses.

He deserves someone better.

Someone who isn't constantly struggling to prove themselves. Someone stronger, brighter—someone who can match him step for step without hesitation. Maybe someone like Captain Ashiro.

The logical part of your brain reminds you that they're just friends—a captain and her vice-captain. But you're not just logical. You have insecurities, like anyone else. And those insecurities whisper, show you, convince you that Captain Ashiro would fit with him so much better than you ever could.

You've always been confident in your abilities, but this… this is different. This is a battlefield you don't know how to fight on. So you make a decision.

You push him away.

You train harder, volunteer for more missions, avoid lingering in the same space as him for too long. When he tries to get you to spar, you decline. When he jokes with you, you give him short, clipped answers. When he looks at you like he's trying to figure something out, you look away. It's the only way to protect yourself.

To protect him.

Because if he ever found out the truth—if he ever realized what you felt—he would never let it go. And you're not strong enough to handle that. Not when you already know how this ends. 

With you, watching him from a distance.

And Hoshina Soshiro, falling for someone else. Someone better.

— — — — — — — — — 

Hoshina isn't an idiot.

You know this better than anyone. He's sharp, always has been—on the battlefield, in training, even in casual conversation. It's why you should have known that avoiding him wouldn't work forever. At first, he lets it slide. He doesn't push when you brush off his teasing, doesn't press when you cut conversations short. But Hoshina Soshiro is nothing if not persistent.

And now, he's watching you.

You feel it every time you step onto the training grounds. Every time you sit across from him in meetings. Every time you pretend not to notice the way he lingers just a second too long after missions, as if waiting for you to say something—anything—that would tell him what's wrong.

But you don't.

And it frustrates him.

It shows in the way he tests you, upping the difficulty in sparring sessions, calling your name just to see if you'll flinch. It's in the little frowns he gives when you answer him with one-word replies, in the way his usual laid-back tone shifts—still teasing, still light, but with something underneath it. Something careful. Something searching.

But finally comes the breaking point. 

It happens on a mission—an ambush, an unexpected wave of kaiju that leaves the entire unit scrambling. You hold your own, as always, but the enemy is relentless. A misstep, a delayed dodge—pain blooms sharp and hot along your side.

You barely register the injury before Hoshina is there, cutting through the chaos like he was made for it. His blades sing through the air, his movements precise, deadly. He's by your side in an instant, pressing a hand to your wound with a grip far gentler than you expect.

"Stay down," he orders, voice tight. "You're done for this fight."

You shake your head. "I can still—"

"I said, stay down."

You freeze. This isn't his usual easygoing drawl. This is anger. Not the reckless, fiery kind. No, this is something colder—controlled, deliberate. It simmers beneath his words, in the way his jaw clenches, in the sharp edge to his next breath.

When the battle is over, when the rest of the unit regroups, Hoshina doesn't leave your side. Even as medics check you over, even as you insist that you're fine, his arms stay crossed, his gaze dark and unreadable. And when you finally stand, when you try to slip away with the others, he stops you, gripping your wrist.

"We need to talk."

And for the first time in weeks, you don't think you can run from him. You knew this was coming.

Hoshina isn't the type to let things fester—especially not when it comes to someone he cares about. And yet, as you stand before him, away from the others, away from any excuse to escape, you feel like a trapped animal. The air between you is thick, heavy with something you don't want to name.

His grip on your wrist is loose now, but he doesn't let go. Not yet. Instead, he studies you, his sharp eyes scanning your face like he's trying to piece together a puzzle that shouldn't exist in the first place. "You gonna tell me what's going on," he starts, voice even, "or do I have to start guessing?"

You force a breath through your nose, willing yourself to stay composed. "I don't know what you're talking about."

Hoshina huffs out a laugh—but there's no humor in it. "That's funny, 'cause last time I checked, we were friends. Y'know, the kind that actually talks to each other." His voice dips lower. "So why the hell have you been actin' like I'm some stranger you can't even look at?"

You swallow hard. "I've been busy."

"Bullshit."

The word lands heavier than it should. Maybe because Hoshina doesn't curse often—not like this, not at you. It shakes something in your chest, cracks through the carefully built walls you've spent weeks reinforcing.

But you can't let them fall. "I don't know what you want me to say," you mutter, staring at the ground. "Nothing's wrong."

"Then why do you keep pushing me away?" His voice is sharper now, the frustration finally surfacing. "Did I do something? Say something?"

"No," you say quickly, too quickly. "It's not you."

"Then what is it?"

You open your mouth, but nothing comes out. Because how do you say it? How do you tell him that it hurts to be near him? That every second spent at his side only makes it worse? How do you tell Hoshina Soshiro—the man who has always stood tall, always exuded confidence, always carried himself like he knows exactly who he is—that you don't feel worthy of standing beside him?

His fingers tighten around your wrist for a brief second before he exhales, letting his hand drop away. His voice, when he speaks again, is quieter. "Y'know," he says, "I ain't stupid. I can tell when someone's running from something."

You clench your jaw. "I'm not running."

"Then look at me."

You don't. Not until he steps closer, until he's right in front of you, close enough that you can't ignore the warmth radiating from him, the intensity in his gaze.

"Look at me, dammit," he repeats, softer this time.

And you do. Because you're weak when it comes to him. No matter how much you've tried to avoid it, this was always going to happen.

Your breath is shaky as you finally force the words out. "Because you deserve better than me, Hoshina."

Silence. A second stretches into eternity.

His brows knit together, confusion flickering across his face before something else takes over—something unreadable, something deep and unwavering. "…The hell did you just say?"

Your throat feels tight and your eyes are starting to burn. "You heard me."

Hoshina blinks, then lets out a disbelieving laugh—except it isn't really a laugh at all. More like a breath of frustration, edged with something that almost sounds like hurt. "Unbelievable," he mutters, rubbing a hand over his face before fixing you with a look so serious it makes your stomach twist. "You really think that, huh?"

You force yourself to nod. "I know that."

"Then you really don't know me at all." His voice is steady, but there's something else there—something that makes your heart clench.

And before you can say another word, Hoshina steps even closer, close enough that you can't ignore the weight of his next words. 

"I don't want 'better.' I want you."

Your breath catches. And just like that, the walls you built start to crumble. You feel like the world has just stopped.

His words ring in your ears, over and over, unraveling every excuse, every reason you've clung to for why this could never happen.

"I don't want 'better.' I want you."

There's no hesitation in his voice, no doubt in his stance. Just Hoshina Soshiro, standing in front of you, looking at you like you're the only thing that matters.

You shake your head, stepping back out of instinct, out of fear. "You don't mean that."

Hoshina's brows knit together, frustration flickering across his face. "The hell I don't."

"You don't—" Your voice cracks, and you hate it, hate how vulnerable you feel under his gaze. "You don't get it, Hoshina. You're—" You pause, searching for the words, but they feel heavy on your tongue. "You're everything. And I'm just—"

"Just what?" His tone is softer now, but no less firm. "Go on. Say it."

You swallow hard. "I'm just me."

Silence.

Then, Hoshina exhales, slow and measured, as if he's choosing his next words carefully. "Y'know," he starts, voice lower now, "for someone so damn stubborn, you really don't see yourself clearly."

You don't say anything. You can't.

Hoshina tilts his head, his eyes never leaving yours. "Do you know why I trust you so much?"

Your hands clench into fists. "Because we're comrades."

"That's not it." He takes a step forward, closing the distance you tried to put between you. "I trust you because you've got my back. Always. I trust you because you fight like hell, because you don't hesitate when it matters, because you're one of the strongest people I know."

His words hit harder than any blade.

"You think I deserve someone 'better'?" His voice is barely above a whisper now, but it holds weight. "Then tell me—who's better than the person who's been by my side through everything?"

You open your mouth, but nothing comes out. Because he's looking at you like you hung the damn stars. Like every excuse you've made is nothing but noise. Like he's been waiting for you to just see what's been in front of you this whole time.

Your chest feels tight, your heart hammering against your ribs, and you hate that you're trembling, hate that you're so scared to believe him.

An then, Hoshina smiles. Soft. Sure. Unshakable. Finally, reaches for you. Slowly, like he's giving you the chance to pull away. But you don't. You can't. Not when his fingers brush against yours, not when the warmth of his touch grounds you in a way nothing else ever has.

"You don't gotta say anything right now," he murmurs. "But just… stop runnin', yeah?"

Your breath catches as you realise, this is real. This is Hoshina Soshiro choosing you. And for the first time, you wonder, if maybe, you're allowed to choose him too.

His fingers linger against yours, warm and steady, a silent reassurance that he's not going anywhere.

You take a shaky breath. "I don't… I don't know how to do this."

Hoshina chuckles, soft and easy. "Yeah? Well, lucky for you, I'm patient."

You shake your head, a small, disbelieving smile tugging at your lips. "You don't act like it."

"Hey, I waited for you to get your head out of your ass, didn't I?" His grin is teasing, but his eyes—they're serious."I've been waiting, y'know. For you to let me in."

You look down, where your fingers are still lightly touching, and finally—finally—you curl yours around his. Just a little. Just enough. "I was scared," you admit, voice barely above a whisper. "I thought you deserved someone… more."

Hoshina hums thoughtfully. "More what?"

"More everything. Stronger. Smarter. Someone who…" You hesitate, then sigh. "Someone who wouldn't be afraid to tell you how they feel."

His grip tightens, just a little. „That's funny," he murmurs. "'Cause the person I fell for? They're plenty strong. And smart. And stubborn as hell." He tilts his head, voice dropping into something softer. "And right now, they're telling me exactly how they feel."

Your heart stumbles. There's no more running. No more hiding behind excuses, no more pretending that your feelings aren't there, that they don't matter. Because Hoshina sees all of you. And he still wants you anyway.

You take a breath, steadying yourself. Then, finally—you look him in the eyes. "I like you," you confess, voice small but certain. "I've liked you for a long time."

"Yeah," Hoshina grins, voice warm, teasing, filled with something deeper. "I know."

You huff, rolling your eyes. "Of course you do."

His laughter is easy, genuine. And when he tugs you just a little closer, thumb brushing over the back of your hand, you don't pull away.

Because for the first time in a long time—you're not scared. You don't know what happens next.

But as Hoshina squeezes your hand, as he smiles at you like you're something worth holding onto, you realize, that taking a step forward doesn’t need to be scary. 

Masterlist

[azulpitlane]

i wish you would I ln4

pairings: lando norris x reader, exbf! mason mount x reader summary: part two of got love struck notes: kinda dragged making this but finals are finally over so send me some requests pls🤸‍♀️ this ones kinda angsty and there's lots of miscommunication sorry hehe part three, masterlist

yourusername posted a story 2h ago

The night was full of partying, drinking and dancing as you celebrated your best friend's 23rd birthday. The night quickly turned into a mess when you went to the bar to get everyone more drinks. When you came back your friends were nowhere to be seen, you assumed they were in the dance floor but when you went to check, they weren't there either. To make matters worse, you had put your phone in your friend's purse for safe keeping so you had no way to contact them. The panic quickly sobered you up as you looked everywhere for them but instead you found different a familiar face.

"Mason?"

"Y/n! Hey, I didn't realize you were here."

Your ex-boyfriend went for a hug as he greeted you. You and Mason ended your relationship over a year ago, and though you felt no animosity towards the football player, the breakup had been hard as everybody on the internet seemed to have an opinion on it. It was mutual breakup, you both were in different stages in your life and it just seemed like it wasn't your time.

"Yeah, I was celebrating y/bff/n's birthday with a few other girls, but I have no idea where they are and they have my cell." You were starting to get frustrated as you felt like they left without you.

"Oh no, I would help you look but I'm about to head out. Let me give you a ride home, I would hate for you to be here by yourself."

You knew if somebody saw you and Mason alone it would cause chaos all over again, but you had no other choice at the moment and you just wanted to go to bed. You agreed and as you left you both were oblivious to the cameras taking pictures of you leaving through the back door together.

As you pulled up to your hotel you smiled at Mason and thanked him.

"You're a lifesaver Mase seriously, I don't know what I would've done if I never found them or you."

"You don't have to thank me y/n. I will always look out for you even if we're broken up. I still care for you."

"You're a great friend, I'll always look out for you too."

"And um I have to ask,"

You could tell he was nervous as he scratched the back of his neck and his cheeks flushed slightly.

"What is it Mase?"

"Do you love him?"

You were surprised by the question, not expecting him to bring up Lando.

"Um yeah-yes. I love him so much, I can't even find the words to describe it to be honest. I don't think any song I write can even measure to how strong my love is for him."

"That's good, yeah, that's great. I just, I'm happy you found your person y/n. You know, I thought that person would be me, but if you're happy, than I am too. I guess we just weren't meant to be."

"Mase, you're one of the most amazing people I've met, seriously. I don't think it was ever in the cards for us, but you've taught me so much and you'll always have a special place in my heart. You will find your person one day, I promise."

You smiled at Mason as you spoke, not realizing you had given him the closure he had been needing for a year.

Lando was freaking out.

He had been sent the article of you and Mason over 5 times already and you hadn't answered your phone in over 2 hours. His mind was reeling as he was thinking about what you could possibly be doing right now. Even though he trusted you more than anything, he couldn't help but let it get to him. Why aren't you answering?

He knew your phone was charged and turned on considering he can still see your location. As he checked it again, he realized you were no longer at the club. You were at someone's apartment. Why weren't you at your hotel? Who's apartment was this?

Before he let himself jump to conclusions, he called y/bff/n knowing you two went out together.

"LANDOOOO! HI."

"Y/bff/n, hey is y/n with you?"

"Y/n? Oh nooooo. Aw I miss her Lan, is she with you?"

"What? No, how could she be with me? I'm in Monaco right now."

"Oh. Then I'm not so sure."

Lando could feel himself getting frustrated as he spoke with the clearly intoxicated girl.

"Okay, did she go home with you? With anyone else?"

"I don't know, you should probably call her or something."

"I did, over 10 times in the past hour."

"Oh maybe she's busy! Let me know how it goes, bye!"

"Wait-"

She hung up. Lando was going to throw up. He was never considered himself as an insecure guy, but he couldn't help but feel there was something going on. He's seen those tweets and comments saying how much everyone loved you and Mason together. What if those comments made you realize they were right? What if you were with Mason right now? Lando wanted to cry, scream and throw up all at once.

Three loud knocks woke you up from your beauty sleep. You were still in last night's clothes as you were too tired to even change after the nights disaster. You opened the door and your best friend ran in and hugged you.

"Y/N! I'm so so sorry for leaving you all by yourself. I was completely blacked out and I guess I was acting sloppy because y/f/n said we got kicked out of the club! I was acting too drunk and they got mad im so so sorry, this is all my fault and we tried to tell security to get you but they were so mean and-"

"Y/bff/n stop. It's fine, it was your birthday, you deserved to act a little crazy."

"Still babe, I'm sorry. Now that article is being spread like crazy and it's all because of me."

"What are you talking about? What article?"

"Shit. I forgot, here's your phone. But I have to warn you, people saw you leaving the club with Mason last night and the rumors have already begun. Im sorry hun."

Oh god.

Lando🧡 15 missed calls 5 unread messages

YourPublicist 2 missed calls 1 unread message

Danny Ric🤠 2 unread messages

Y/f/n 8 unread messages

The notifications were endless as you scrolled through your phone but there was only one that you really cared about. You immediately called Lando, afraid he was angry at you for this mess.

"Lan, baby, I'm so sorry for worrying you. I just opened your messages, y/bff/n had my phone all night." You immediately gave him a run down of the night as you knew what it was like to be in his position. The media has circulated so many rumors about your relationship overnight and you knew how hard that was. You had dealt with it all throughout your career and you were heartbroken it was happening to Lando because of you.

"That's weird because I actually called y/bff/n last night and she did not mention she had your phone."

"She was so out of it last night, she probably forgot she even had it. Oh god, she was downing shots I'm honestly not even surprised she got kicked out, she was so crazy-"

"Y/n, you don't understand, I have not slept all night. I was worried and everyone is talking about this. I look like an idiot in this situation."

You knew Lando was going to be upset but after your explanation, you didn't expect for him to still be angry at you.

"I know, the night was a mess, but nothing happened with Mason. He just dropped me off and I'm grateful it was him and not some random taxi."

"You're grateful it was him? You're grateful these pictures are all over the internet?"

"That's not what I meant! I meant he was the safest option at that moment, I had nobody else."

"Yeah. Half of the internet is happy it was him. People are actually celebrating thinking you guys are back together."

"Don't listen to them Lan, me and Mase are never getting back together. People will accept it over time and this will blow over."

"Why are you being so casual about this? Do you even know how I felt last night when you weren't answering. I was going to be sick thinking what you could possibly be doing with him."

"Lan, I told you nothing happened. Why aren't you believing me?"

"This is just all too much." Lando knew he was overreacting a bit. Your story made sense and it all lined up, but he had spent the entire night overthinking and reading the rumors about you two that he couldn't get them out of his mind. He loved you so much and last night made him realize how easily he can lose you and that thought terrified him. You were everything to him, but did you really feel the same way?

"Are you breaking up with me? Seriously? Over a stupid tabloid, I can't believe this." You felt betrayed. Did he not trust you?

"I dont know, it's just hard for me wrap my head around this right now."

"Lan, my flight to Monaco leaves in a few hours, how about we just talk about this in person when our heads are clear?"

Lando was getting angrier as the call went on. He knew his insecurities were getting the best of him right now but he felt like you weren't listening to him. You were trying to brush this off when the whole world was going against you two right now.

"Wow Y/n. My heads pretty fucking clear right now. You know what? Maybe it's best if you don't come, yeah?"

"Yeah, okay."

one week later

liked by user 1, user 2, masonmount and 3,593,304 others

yourusername life atm. p.s all new music released from now on is coming from the comfort of my own bed <3

comments on this post have been limited

yourbff love u. coming over rn🏃‍♀️

yourusername pls dont forget snacks

taylorswift need this new album right now

danielricciardo ❤️‍🩹

liked by user1, user2 and 231,583 others

dailymail Singer Y/n Y/l/n spotted once again with Manchester United star, Mason Mount, leaving a restaurant with a few other football players. Are the two officially back together? Rumors of her breakup with Formula One driver, Lando Norris have been circulating for over a week now after Y/l/n and Mount were seen leaving a club together. Read more on this new love triangle in our article linked in our bio.

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user1 im so excited for this album HAHAHA

user2 team mason idc

user3 funny how the last song she dropped was titled slut, if the shoe fits :)

user4 slut shaming in 2023? disgusting.

user5 i refuse to believe her and lando broke up sorry

user6 delulu is the solulu atp😁

notes: another cliffhanger!!!🤸‍♀️also this isn't proofread at all my bad heh

tags: @jayrami3 @whoselly @roseseraj @saturnbloom77 @landowecanbewc

[betty-fran]

A couple of thoughts on Spock and McCoy's relationship (and, probably, about K/S too).

It becomes more apparent in season three, though it's actually an ongoing trend, that McCoy often worries about Spock more than about Kirk when they're both in danger. Not because he worries about Kirk any less, but because he worries about Spock differently. In S3EP10 "Plato's Stepchildren," the most psychologically difficult episode that N and I watched the other day, this is well-read in the moment of bullying that Parmen arranges when he tries to convince McCoy to stay. Kirk, of course, orders McCoy not to accept Parmen's offer under any circumstances:

KIRK: McCoy. No matter what he makes me say or do, the answer's no. MCCOY: No, Parmen! Stop it!

And as hard as it is, McCoy holds himself back because he respects him as a captain first and foremost. He worries about Kirk, of course he does, it's natural for him, it's a habit developed over the years and close friendship, but he trusts his decisions:

(Kirk rolls in agony.) PARMEN: Well, Doctor? MCCOY: I have my orders.

But when it comes to Spock, it's more complicated. He has an awareness of the limits of Kirk's endurance (and again, he has to see him as a captain first and trust him in that), and the way he worries about Kirk is objectively logical. But his worry about Spock is more of an emotional response. He noticeably distrusts Spock's ability to recognize his own limits, especially emotionally, often referring to his emotional repression. He worries about Spock in a way that Spock himself is incapable of worrying about (or at least incapable of doing so fully), about what Spock constantly neglects - his psychological state:

(Spock is forced to dance close to Kirk's head. Flamenco-style, I think, ending with a boot directly over Kirk's face. Then Spock is allowed to rest, and he starts to laugh heartily. He crawls over to Alexander, who cannot help but join in.) MCCOY: He's a Vulcan. You can't force emotion out of him. PHILANA: You must be joking, Doctor. MCCOY: You'll destroy him. PARMEN: We can't let him die laughing, can we? (Now Spock cries.) MCCOY: I beg you.

McCoy definitely cares about him. All those scenes where he suddenly and seemingly for no reason starts lecturing Spock about his inability to feel feelings and accept his own emotions are usually the very moments when Spock actually feel feelings but trying to repress it, which makes me think that McCoy is telling him all these things at those moments not because he's an insensitive bastard, but because he's just very aware of what's going on with Spock emotionally.

Unlike Kirk, who is actually very similar to Spock in his perception of the world and his way of thinking, McCoy and Spock are really radically different people. He doesn't understand Spock as fully or as deeply as Kirk does, but he can understand Spock's emotional state (and he can be straightforward with him about it). Where Kirk accepts Spock unconditionally and completely for who he is (with Spock's inability to feel in a normal human way, this complexity of his world, this internal struggle), preserving that right for Spock to be exactly that, because again, Kirk doesn't want him to be anything other than who he is, even if it means he can't be with him the way he wants to (which brings us back to the similarity between Kirk and the Companion from Metamorphosis), McCoy doesn't need to do this. He doesn't buy into all that Spock "too complicated to feel simple feelings" nonsense, and he doesn't hold back on his choice of words when it comes to talking about it. McCoy perceives Spock through the lens of his own human perception, seeking in him what he can understand and explain through emotion. And while this is not real acceptance, it's also not an attempt to change him. In fact, it's this emotional vision of McCoy, his pressure on Spock's emotions, that quite often turns out to be true, because Spock obviously still has a human side.

When we observe the dynamic between the three of them, we realize that Kirk's feelings about Spock are obviously different from his feelings about McCoy, who is apparently his closest friend in TOS (which makes me as a viewer wonder if this was done consciously, considering that K and S relationship was really positioned as special and unique, even without any romantic reading). And McCoy undoubtedly understands how indispensable, unique, viscerally important Spock is to Kirk. He, more than once, when faced with a choice between danger for himself and Spock, tries to take the hit, realizing that losing Spock would be harder for Kirk. The whole dynamic of McCoy and Spock's relationship reminds me of a situation where your best friend falls in love (so completely and irrevocably), and trying to understand why he did it and what he found in this other person, you start to look at them, and in the process of this exploration, you unexpectedly get used to them, find your comfort in their company, and (just a little, of course) you start to understand why your friend fell in love so much. This person becomes dear to you, and you start to worry about them no less than you do about your friend, and maybe even more, because you understand that this person is vital to your friend's happiness, the most important in the whole world to him. So, in the end, McCoy now has to take care of two idiots instead of one, which hardly makes his life easy.

Therefore, the well-being of these two is personally important to him. He often reacts angrily to the actions of either of them when it could hurt the other, and more than once acts as a "voice of reason", reminding (not always gently) of this super-importance between the two of them. To a certain extent, it is Kirk, their shared concern and responsibility for him, that really holds McCoy and Spock together, and I think that if Kirk had died, this delicate attachment that exists between them would have collapsed under the weight of grief, although in the opposite situation McCoy and Kirk's friendship and Kirk and Spock's closeness would have survived. But in all this, McCoy really, genuinely worries about Spock. Unable to fully understand and accept his complexity, he simultaneously sympathizes with him and tries to help in any way he can. And he's also important to Spock, not just as Kirk's closest friend, someone who's emotionally important to him, but, actually, as his own friend too. Their relationship is more fragile and complex than a simple friendship, and often exists despite contradictions, but what unites them outweighs the rest, bringing some balance.

[walpu]

walp

hear me out on this

Aventurine's bodyguard (reader), but they are used as leverage against Aven during the 2.1 Trailblaze Quest, if Aven tries to leave the Dreamscape or reveals anything of Sunday's scheme, Sunday murders Reader and makes it seem like a freak accident 😀😀

Sunday when I catch you Sunday

I liked this request the moment I saw it so I rushed to do it as soon as I got enough time to work on it 😭

you being used against Aventurine as his weak spot during the 2.1 trailblaze quest

notes - gn!reader, 2.1 spoilers, angst but nothing bad happens to you, hopeful at the end, sunday is most likely ooc since it's written before 2.2, no beta

Sunday doesn't make a direct threat. It's a very subtle hint, a small warning. Yet it's obvious enough for Aventurine to understand the meaning behind Sunday's words immediately. How can he not when it concerns you?

There's a visible anger on his face when he glares at Sunday.

"You wouldn't dare, you wing-headed bastard. Do you think the IPC is stupid enough to believe that the death of my personal bodyguard tgat accompany me everywhere is a coincidence? Do you think I'll let it slide?!"

Oh, he's seething. Such raw emotions, such obvious worry, such obvious fear. Sunday knew he would get him good but that? Truly intriguing.

But how can he not feel that way? How can he play it cool, cover his fear and shield himself with short on-line answers?

This time he can't hide how much his hands are shaking.

Sunday is quick to remind Aventurine that in his current pitiful state, 17 hours to live and all, he hardly can do anything.

He also graciously reminds Aven that nothing will happen to you as long as he does his part.

Aventurine is such a mess after that conversation. Ratio tries to calm him down a bit by rationalizing the situation. Surely Sunday is bluffing. The Family, no matter how questionable they seem, are not murderers. Plus, surely Aventurine knows his own bodyguard well enough to know that you're not easy to kill. Many has tried and yet here you are, still alive and well.

But how can Aventurine just brush it off when it's you who may be in danger?

That what he was afraid of the whole time. That he'll lose you like he has lost everyone else. That your blood will be on his hands.

He asks Ratio to look after you and to escort you to safety if something happens. The promise doesn't calm him down but Ratio is a reliable and smart person. So he chooses to trust him, no matter how hard it is. After all, Aven doesn't have much choice.

When the two of you reunite, you can immediately see that he's shaken. He tries to hide his pitiful state from you, not wanting you to know that his time is running out. He wants to warn you instead, to tell you that you may be in danger. But he knows you won't take it seriously and instead would insist on taking care of him and protecting him.

He comes up with some lies (aeons, he hates lying to you of all people) and asks you to start your own investigation. To go back to the real world and to team up with Topaz and Jade.

It takes some time to convince you but eventually you reluctantly agree. He sees how much you hate leaving him like this and it's both heartwarming and heartbreaking at the same time.

Aven is an even bigger mess now than he was in the game. He tries to tell himself that you're okay, that Ratio will accompany you to the real world and Topaz will look after you once you're there.

But how can he be sure? How? His "future" self asks him this mockingly, pointing out that you're smart, that you'll immediately understand that he has deliberately sent you away to keep you from something.

No matter how msny times he tells this "future self" to shut up, he knows he's right. So he can only pray that he'll be able to deal with the Family before you get yourself in danger.

Image you showing up during the final act just to see him threatening to detonate the Stellaron. Him trying to continue the "show" despite the ache in his heart. You, knowing he's bluffing but being unable to stop this insanity.

After the events of 2.1, he seeks you out as soon as he returns to the real world. He needs to know that you're alive, that you're safe. Even if you're angry with him now, even if you may not forgive him (of course you will he's just insecure like that), he needs to know you're fine.

So imagine his relief when you (safe, unarmed, alive) embrace him and hold him tightly, so overwhelmingly happy he's back.

image his reaction to finding out that you're alive and well and sunday has presumably kicked the bucket 💀

[spookypete-94]

Choices have Consequences

Being friends with both Simon and Johnny, you try your best to convince Simon he's better than the man who raised him at the request of Johnny. All because Johnny wants a family... It's you who pays the price.

GhoapxFem!reader

CW for language and pregnancy, baby trapping if you squint??

"You don't know that." Simon grumbled refusing to look up at you. This whole conversation has been unwanted and awkward to him. Not only was he receiving the same message from Johnny, but now you too?

You had been a long time friend to both of them, meeting in the service and proving each other through thick and thin. That didn't mean he appreciated your mock sympathy.

"I do know that, Si. No better men I trust more than you and Johnny. You'll both be wonderful parents."

"Don't wan' be like him." You knew what he was referring to. He was afraid to be a parent and end up like his father.

"You ever think it's that cognitive choice that makes us better than the people who raised us? The fact we don't want to be like them? I think it does and because you remember what you had growing up, it's going to make and keep you different."

Brown coals looked up through you from the slots of his mask. A fire ignited peeking through the black war paint that you could see on his skin.

"Ya' mean that?"

"I do. Think you're a good man for the job. Both you and Johnny are going to raise some wonderful children." Reaching across lightly squeezing his hand that was next to his mug full of tea.

A heavy sigh left him as he nodded, taking in your words. A whole plan plotting in his head, taking seed and growing across his brain.

If only you could see it.

As a thank you for talking Simon into being open to having children, Johnny had invited you over for dinner a few days later.

Celebrating they pulled out the expensive whiskey, sharing it with you after a hearty dinner.Maybe that's what caused you to let your guard down. An invite to Simon and Johnny both.

It had left you in shock as Simon had you folded up against Johnny, slamming into you at a rough and hard pace. Each pant and heavy breath, him explaining that him and Johnny had decided to try the old fashioned way. Giving their seed to you for you to grow their much wanted baby. A piece of Simon and Johnny mixed with you. What better gift??

The more shocking part however was Johnny whispering in your ear over and over again of over flowing gratitude.

"Thank ya' hen, would never o' got this far wit' out ya'."

Simon pounded into you harder from the praise. You and Johnny cornering him both about this?? Fine. A baby it is then, but you're going to help too dammit.

"Givin' me and Si the greatest gift. Our little family ey'?"

9 months later, a blonde brown eyed boy was born. Mission accomplished right?

It wasn't like Simon and Johnny had planned to keep you after this right??

Wrong.

A part of their little family you were, and a part of their family you would stay. Even if you wanted it or not, this is the price you pay for telling Simon he was a loveable man. You are theirs now.

Simon "Ghost" Riley Masterlist

Part 2

[professorkirke]

Why did Katniss vote for another Hunger Games?

Before looking into what Katniss tells us the reader about her choice we need to look at the context leading up to the vote.

Katniss knows that Coin considers her a political threat and wanted her to die during the last stage of the war. When Peeta joins the Star Squad Katniss ends chapter 18 (and part II) with "But if Coin sent Peeta here, she's decided something else as well. That I'm of more use to her dead than alive." (Mockingjay p. 293) In the next chapter Katniss notes that Boggs is angry and he doesn't deny that Coin wants Katniss dead. Katniss doesn't understand why, so we get this exchange:

"Sometime in the near future, this war will be resolved. A new leader will be chosen," says Boggs. I roll my eyes. "Boggs, no one thinks I'm going to be the leader." "No. They don't," he agrees. "But you'll throw support to someone. Would it be President Coin? Or someone else?" "I don't know. I've never thought about it," I say. "If your immediate answer isn't Coin, then you're a threat. (...)" Mockingjay p. 298

There are earlier events in the book where we can see that Katniss does not trust Coin. A prime example being that Katniss insists Coin make the Mockingjay Deal announcement in front of all of Disctrict 13.

The next important piece of context for the vote is Prim's death. Prim is killed by a bomb design to kill the rescuers after one round of bombs dropped by a hovercraft with a Capitol sigil on it (Mockingjay chapter 24). This type of bomb was designed by Gale and Beetee in District 13 (Mockingjay chapter 13). Katniss mulls over the evidence she has, what Snow said and what she knows about both Coin and Snow:

(...) it doesn't mean she dropped those parachutes. Victory was already in her grasp. Everything was in her grasp. Except me. [Reminder of what Boggs said about Katniss being a threat to Coin] Suddenly I'm thinking of Prim, who was not yet fourteen, not yet old enough to be granted the title of soldier, but somehow working on the front lines. How did such a thing happen? (...) But for all that, someone very high up would have had to approve putting a thirteen-year-old in combat. (Mockingjay p. 406)

Katniss does not conclude anything about the bombing in the internal dialogue the reader gets to follow. At minimum Katniss knows Coin likely authorised Prim being put in harms way to get to Katniss and destabalise her. Katniss does not tie Prim's death to Snow or the Capitol at any point after this.

Now we get to the actual vote. The Victors are gathered right before the planned execution of President Snow. Coin presents having a final Hunger Games with children "directly related to those who held the most power" (Mockingjay p. 415). Haymitch asks if it was Plutarch's idea and Coin clarifies that it was hers. Peeta, Annie and Beetee vote against. Johanna and Enobaria vote for.

Now it is up to Katniss and Haymitch.

Katniss thinks about what it must have been like deciding those first Games and "All those people I loved, dead, and we are discussing the next Hunger Games in an attempt to avoid wasting life" (Mockingjay p. 417). Next we get these two sentences: "Nothing has changed. Nothing will ever change now." (Mockingjay p. 417) And then she casts her vote:

I weigh my options carefully, think everything through. Keeping my eyes on the rose, I say, "I vote yes... for Prim." (Mockingjay p. 417)

The last we heard about Katniss's thoughts of Prim connect her death with Coin. This I think is likely the point when Katniss decides to shoot Coin and not Snow.

Haymitch now has the deciding vote and this is what Katniss thinks:

(...) I can feel Haymitch watching me. This is the moment, then. When we find out exactly how alike we are, and how much he understands me. "I'm with the Mockingjay," he says. (Mockingjay p. 417)

Haymitch and Katniss have communiced wordlessly with each other since the 74th Games. Katniss has a plan and Haymitch understands this. If Katniss had no plan I don't think she would think about "how much he understands [her]". She wants him to vote for these last Games to keep Coin happy and oblivious to what Katniss's next step is. Haymitch understands this, or at least that Katniss has a plan and she needs his help here. Without adding any spoilers for Sunrise on the Reaping: Haymitch would have voted no without Katniss asking him to vote yes.

The next thing Katniss does is kill President Coin. Thus stopping the cycle of violence she sees Coin ready to continue. Nothing has changed with Coin as President. Nothing will ever change unless Katniss steps up. Which she does. For Prim.

[yandere-sins]

The Octopodes' Tale - Prologue

Yan-Poll #40 #MerMay 2025 Special Prev. Part

My, my! I was surprised to hear you were going to look after my 'pet'! Who would have thought that your next journey would lead you to us?

I, for one, am happy it did.

What, surprised? Well, I never said witches don't need help from humans. We just prefer not to, surely, you understand that, right? We are mostly independent, after all. It's our job to give you guidance, not the other way around. You didn't need my help much last time, but maybe this time you will? Let me know if you are unsure where to go, and I'll be willing to help you... for a smile fee. After all, you'll take care of my beloved mate for me, won't you? We are in a little predicament, so surely you won't abandon us, right?

I could tell you so much about my beloved. My Leo is the most pure-hearted, sweetest male in all of the ocean! He likes to dance for me and put up displays of color, catch me food while I work, and hug me for hours sometimes until I put him back in his place. So make sure to feed him his food directly by hand—that's how he likes it! I know his tongue can be sharp, but I promise he'd never bite off a finger. I would know; I trained him, after all. Oh! If you scratch his back, he will give you little hickies! It's the most adorable thing! I love him so much!

Of course, I'd prefer it if you'd return him to me... it's been so lonely without him. He can be quite a needy leech if he likes you, but he's the sweetest little male I have ever met. We spent so many years in harmonic togetherness, his absence has been truly sorrowful. Now that I can't reach him, I don't even know if he's keeping his tentacles at bay. Hopefully, no one has taken off his restraints; make sure to check that! As you know, we octopuses die easily upon mating, so you must always keep that in check. For you, he's just a test subject.

But he's my whole life.

If something were to happen to him, I wouldn't know what I would do. We are meant for each other, you understand? So whatever you do, try to keep him alive, alright? You don't often find a well-trained pet like him, so he can be quite valuable! And I need him like you need air to breathe.

Maybe you should think about returning him to me instead of doing your silly little experiments. We could both benefit from it. I may have what the facility wants you to find, and you have what I want. What do you say?

However you decide, I hope you know what you're doing. We wouldn't want anything to happen to you, right?

But I trust you, I know you'll make the right choice. You are a smart human, aren't you?

I can't wait for you.

And with that: welcome back to MerMay!!

Yes, my favorite month of the year, and well, I have two very interesting specimen for you this time, although it depends on your choices if you're meeting them both (which I truly hope!) or suffer at the hands of the facility like all the others. At least, you won't be alone (;

It'll be almost the same game as last time!

At the end of each chapter, you'll get to make a choice which can either progress the story or lead to a bad end. Mind you, there are no secret routes or choice combinations you need to make. One path goes forward, the others are more or less literally "game overs". So, choose wisely! However, as she has some personal agenda, this particular sea witch from above will help you reach the end of the story if you make a wrong choice, and sometimes, bad ends are still interesting and full of information! I wouldn't blame you for choosing them :D

At this point of time, I have not plotted the story to its fullest, so... length may vary. But I plan to just go as far as I possibly can to make a fulfilling story (:

One thing is different: Polls will only be three days (and I will post as soon as I have a new part). I want to make the most use of yan-polls, stories, and this month, so with the new option to shorten the length, I decided to reduce it to three days instead of seven. Hope everyone gets to vote even with the shortened timespan!

Warnings ahead:

This story revolves around heavy sexual themes (Non-/Dub-Con, Talking about Pregnancy, Mating, Breeding, Eggs/Ovipositor, Tentacles, Dom/Sub Themes, etc.) and violent themes (Possible Major and Minor Character Death, Blood, Biting, Murder, Fighting, Licking (yes that is an actual violent act this time), Guns & Shooting, etc.). Also: both love interests are yandere, meaning the following themes are included: Possessive/Obsessive Behavior, Stalking, Kidnapping, Overall Crazyness, Gaslighting, Manipulation, Mental Breakdowns, etc. And the very last point: The mermaids are monsters, as such beware of Tentacles, Beaks, Sharp Teeth, Teethed Tongues, Animalistic Behaviors, Claws, Monster Anatomy, Monster Behavior, Toxin, and also Witchcraft.

Please always read the warnings on each individual post and stay away if they are not your cup of tea!

If you have questions, please feel free to ask. I appreciate comments, asks, and responses always ♥

I will have fun, and I hope you guys will, too! ♥

Happy MerMay and Happy Choosing! ♥