#and when you factor in that he was a captain and would’ve known that the amount of spiritual strength a person has

[black--sun]

Ichigo blinks at that logic. He tries to decide if he cares about looking stupid, and he does. His smirk falters and then cracks and he curses. “That’s a good point and I hate it.” But he leans back an inch to frown at Shiro. “You were never planning to let me into your closet.” And he’s just realizing it. And that’s kind of… offensive? Maybe. But mostly embarrassing, because Shiro smokescreened it so well Ichigo fell for it. And he really wanted to wear some of his clothes dammit. He knows where Shiro is trying to lead him with that question, but decides to go another route. He eyes Shiro from the side. “I guess not. I’m assuming you tried to get a suit and gave up when you found out they don’t make it in a crop.”

Ichigo shifts. It’s hard to focus on what’s even being said when the word lesbian keeps being thrown around about his baby sister, and it has him picturing things he doesn’t want to every time. He closes his eyes and feels his forehead tense. “I know lesbians,” he snaps, probably way too loud. He’s honestly more worried that Shiro is right than anything. He waves that off. “Tatsuki teaches a lot of people. Even Inoue, and no one is calling her an angry lesbian.” That’s probably my not his best argument, but Shiro has him… twisted around.

“I’ll show you kinky.” Which is mostly just a reflexive thing to say, but as he says it, he realizes there’s a lot he’d do with Shiro, and he hopes he gets the chance. This is shaping up to be either an exciting or intimidating date. Except Shiro also has a way of causing him to relax in situations that would normally make him an anxious or pissed off basket case. So he snorts instead of getting flustered.

When that phone is suddenly back in front of him it takes a second to realize it’s not just because Shiro got bored and another to realize what he’s looking at. There’s a lot of pink. “Oh. Yeah.” He pushes the phone back over. “Don’t delete that. It’s good blackmail. I’m saving it for if he gets dumb.” More dumb. Ichigo makes a face. “He made my blanket smell weird.” Because his bed used to smell like Shiro, faint, but it was there. Probably from those nights he stayed over while Ichigo was gone. Ichigo flips a page and huffs. “You think finding it on a phone is weird, imagine walking in on it. I’m surprised you two never crossed paths.”

That question really amuses him. There was a time not so long ago that Ichigo accused him of being a cult leader. That offer could be mistaken for Ichigo drinking the cool aide. “Uh, yeah, maybe. I’ll let you know. I’m sure that’ll come in handy one of these days.” The next question is a poorly masked trick question. He may not have a lot of dating experience, but he has plenty of experience with reading what people want. He doesn’t even have to play the game, though, because Ichigo answers it for him. Sort of. His brows go up a little. “Ok.” That feels like a big step for having just decided they’re together together, but he likes it. He likes a guy who knows what he wants and isn’t afraid to say as much. “You’re in school to be a professional reader. Is a menu item you can’t pronounce even possible?” That’s a lot of pressure, actually. Rather than take that challenge literally, he’s mentally running through a list of really expensive restaurants he knows of. “Ok, sure, so we’re both gonna have to change. You got nice clothes?”

He feels Ichigo start to relax against him and nods to himself a tiny bit. Good. Idiot. Thinking Shiro, the kid who doesn’t have parents, has already been to jail, and sells drugs for a living, gives two shits about parental approval or whatever getting along with Ichigo’s dad means.

He smirks and laughs lightly. “That’s not a surprise. Lesbians are always simmering with rage, ready to go off. Of course she can be scary too. Did you teach them how to beat people up?”

He snorts, looking over his shoulder at Ichigo briefly. “Not a chance, this thing’s hideous.” He turns back to the task of fucking with Ichigo’s phone when Ichigo slides him that look. “Who’s fault is that? You’re the one that handed it to me.” He’d turned the way he did purposely so Ichigo could see what he was or wasn’t doing, but Ichigo evidently doesn’t have anything too sensitive on his phone because he doesn’t seem like he could care less. Meanwhile, Shiro’s the exact oposite with his. His is almost always face down so no one chances a glance at something they shouldn’t see. It’d be just his luck that some dumbass first timer would text him something way too obvious, like ‘how much for X amount of coke’ or something, while he happened to be in public. And he would never just hand it over, it has way too much incriminating shit on it.

[spicler-man]

avengers and peter

masterlist here Cloak and Dagger by Velnetta

After being kidnapped with some of earth’s greatest defenders, Peter is grateful that it appears that their captors aren’t aware that he’s Spider-man.

The problem? To the Avengers, he's just Tony Stark's teenage intern- and Peter intends to keep it that way.

The Safe House by The_Mishamigo

After a threat is made against all the Avengers (and Spiderman), they all must go into a safe house. Tony is put into one with Spiderman, but the problem is that he has no idea who the man is. This was going to be great.

“Which one?” by rainraingoawae4

In which the avengers suspect Tony has another child hidden away somewhere, and they make it their personal mission to find out everything.

OR

Tony accidentally outs himself when asked about his child and says “Which one?”

First Impressions by ImBadWithWords

Somehow, even as plain old Peter Parker, he manages to find himself meeting the Avengers. Exciting? Sure. But it's only a matter of time before he proves he's not quite what he seems.

Promises of Tomorrow by PinkEasterEggs

Posters of Star Wars were dotted around and there were multiple LEGO sets littered on the floor. Clothes were left lying around, some thrown on the back of the chair and some on the carpet. There was a collection of paper and books on the wooden desk, each large volume for a different school subject.

All in all, Steve would’ve said that the room belonged to a kid. The obvious youth that dominated the area confused Steve as he walked into the room further.

A loud blaring sound echoed into Steve’s ear, FRIDAY’s dominating voice cutting into the air. “You are not permitted to enter this room Captain Rogers.”

Steve jumped out of the room like the floor was on fire, his confusion only growing. “Whose room is that FRIDAY?”

“Boss has not permitted me to answer that question.”

Was Tony hiding a secret kid?

The Rogue Avengers have been pardoned, returning home for the first time after a year and a half on the run. Steve expects for things to be the same as how he left but it seems that everything has changed. Apparently Tony now had a kid.

He Was Actually Really Being Truthful (For Once) by bumblebmoon

Natasha looked more closely. She first saw hints of a second person in the sock poking out of the blanket at a strange angle, and the pale hand with curled-up fingers resting on Tony’s chest. Then she found a head of what looked like brown curls, tucked snugly under Tony’s arm. And eventually, a second set of sleeping breaths, slow and light. ORThe Avengers return from months of missions to find a child fast asleep on the lounge, with Tony snoring beside him. A mystery ensues. Is Tony Stark a father? (It looks like it!) How have they never discovered the kid until now? I mean, Iron Man has always been good at keeping secrets, but a whole CHILD?

The Avengers vs The Peter Factor by midnightwolf2192

No one could ever guess that The Avengers would fall to something known as The Peter Factor. This story tells of how each and every Avenger became wrapped around Peter Parker's finger without Peter even being aware of it.

Also - please go to YouTube and check out the channel PJ’s Reads. This amazing human is turning this story into an audiobook!! Seriously - go give her a listen she is simply amazing!!

Neon Liar (Hiding in Plain Sight) by isaDanCurtisproduction

Peter is stuck between a rock and a hard place. Or more literally, he's stuck between the will of ten other teenagers and the knowledge that if anyone finds out he's living with the Avengers he can kiss his normal high school life goodbye. Can he keep it a secret from his classmates that he's living with the world's loudest superheroes? And can he keep it a secret from the Avengers that he's accidentally bringing his classmates home for a field trip?

And once he starts hiding things, keeping secrets, and lying, will he be able to stop?

And even more importantly: will Ned be able to keep his mouth shut long enough for Peter's secrets to stay a secret?

At least MJ can be trusted to keep a lid on things

tony stark’s long-lost lizard baby by indexofangels, peterstank

Ross clears his throat loudly. “Back to business: sub-section 17.C demands that all Avengers check their weapons upon exit and reentry into the United States of—”

The door to the conference room slams open.

Eight heads whip around and there’s Peter, panting and gripping the wall. “Tony, you gotta help me.”

For half a second Tony actually falls for it. “What is it?”

“I feel… death’s cold grip…”

Peter promptly faints.

or: let’s play 8-Ball!

aiding and abetting: a peter parker saga by indexofangels, peterstank

Bucky Barnes stands in the middle of the produce section at Peter’s local supermarket, staring unblinkingly at the display of oranges like he’s having some kind of a war flashback.

“Finding everything okay?”

The Winter Soldier starts a little. “Yeah, no, I’m good, just—” he finally glances at Peter and squints. “You don’t even work here, do you?”

“No, but I know this place like the back of my hand.” He glances into the mini cart Barnes is pushing, which is full to the brim with junk foods: tootsie pops, cookie dough, Cheerios, and kettle cooked chips. “Have you considered, perhaps, a vegetable?”

or: 5 times peter parker runs into the rogues separately + the 1 time they work together as a team

sometimes a family is nine unrelated superheroes and an adopted teenage boy by shrill_fangirl_screaming for general_lelia

When Peter Parker is fourteen years old, he fixes one of the Black Widow's bracelets and ships it to Avengers Tower. Tony Stark hires him on the spot.

When Peter Parker is fifteen years old, he's bit by a spider and everything changes. He keeps his superhero life a secret from the Avengers team that has become a second family to him, but how long can he keep up the act?

Much More Civil War (Previously: Not So Civil War) by YeahWhoCares for madhatter_1981

“Kid, what the hell are you doing?”

“Sorry Mr. Stark,” Peter shrugged, “but I’m doing this for your own good.”

Peter forces the grown ups to sit down and talk it out, instead of fighting like they weren't a group of world acclaimed superheroes.

We Got Peter! (I Wish He Were My Kid) by Eccentric_Grace

“Where’s Tony? Is he with his kid?"

Steve froze from his spot at the stovetop, looking up with alarm. The wooden spoon in his hand hovered above the boiling water pot.

Bruce kicked Thor lightly in the shin. "Tony's got a kid?"

Thor widened his eyes, looked up and around like a startled animal. "I wasn't aware Stark had offspring?"

or: five times the avengers meet peter parker, and the one time they realize who’s training him

Aftermath by Triscribe

“So you’re Tony’s Peter.”

His mind occupied with other things, it took the kid a second to register the words, and then another to blink at Captain Steve America Rogers. “Uh. Yes?”

Oddly enough, the man just smiled at him. Covered in blood and battle-grime, looking half beaten to death and one hundred percent exhausted, the super soldier from Brooklyn smiled. At him. Belatedly, Peter realized that, despite still being encased by the comforting weight of his Iron Spider armor, he’d yet to have brought back up his mask since the battle, and Captain Rogers could easily see his own bruised and bloodied face, along with everyone else in the room.

Oh. Speaking of everyone else - there were, uh, an awful lot of people looking at him.

Five times Peter Parker scared the shit out of the avengers (and one time Spiderman did) by hallyticket

"Jeez Tony, you could have said we were having visitors."

The avengers all stared back at him from where they were seated around the room, Steve fucking Rogers clearing papers off of the coffee table and out of Peter's sight.

Tony smirked back at him from his lounging position on the velvet armchair, "But putting all of you on the spot is so much better."

Or

five times that Peter Parker manages to scare the avengers, and on time that Spiderman does

trust is a luxury by Livinei

“So they’re coming back to New York?” Peter asks, and Tony gives him a look.

“We’ll see,” he says, pulls an old-looking flip phone out of his pocket and tosses it in the air a couple times before setting it on the table.

“The government doesn’t know where they are because they’re amateurs, so they can’t summon them. I haven’t kept tabs on them, but if I were them I’d probably go to Wakanda, and Cap’s not a complete idiot, so either they’re in Wakanda or they’ve at least visited at some point. The public announcement of the pardon will probably be today on the evening news, but it was put on record in the government about half an hour ago, which means by now T’Challa has probably found out about it. And if he knows, I think it’s rather safe to assume he’d contact Cap and Friends, which means this absolute disgrace to technology should start ringing somewhere around real soon because I’m definitely petty enough not to call him first-”

The phone on the table starts ringing. Tony flashes Peter a grin at the boy’s amazed expression.

OR Tony gets Rogue Avengers pardoned, and a lot of this is from Peter's point of view because this is taking a toll on Tony

everyone thinks peter is tony's kid by killerqueenwrites

Steve sees it the day after he returns to the Compound, his half of the team in tow. Natasha meets the kid when she invites herself to Tony's floor.

or five times the avengers think peter is tony's kid, and the one time they find out he's spider-man

The A-Team Challenge by Isnt_it_pretty_to_think_so

Tony Stark just wants to keep Peter Parker on the down low. Heaven forbid Spiderman do something stupid, like go viral.

OR: Peter Parker accidently patents the superhero equivalent of the ice bucket challenge.

So, you met the Avengers... by Warlock_Writer

Peter meets the Avengers and reveals Captain America's PSA videos to the rest of the team

Peter Parker’s Accidental Guide On How To Give Tony Stark a Heart Attack by for_the_night for Nicolemoon8

Bucky’s arm short circuits and he and Steve go to Tony for help. When they arrive, Steve hears an intruder, taking them out with his shield. Only it wasn’t an intruder. It was Peter Parker.

Or: Steve hits Peter with his metal frisbee and Tony is a pissed off dad. Peter’s just happy he met Captain America.

Atonement by Bergen

Bucky returns from a ninety-five-day-long mission to find a scrawny boy poking the lock of their supply closet. There is no way a random petty thief would be able to step into the compound for casual robbery, which is the only reason why Bucky doesn’t take the intruder into an immediate head lock. “I think I’ll go warn the Avengers about you.” The intruder lifts his chin and crosses his arms. “Good luck. But for your information, they all really like me.” “Is that right.” “Yes,” he says, and he adds, still in that menacing tone: “they think I’m adorable.”

The Avengers vs First Aid by Call_Me_Coley

In their toughest battle yet, Steve and Bruce somehow wrangle everyone into completing their annual medical training but things don't go exactly according to plan when Peter lets slip that he's had to resort to some shady fixes while injured and alone.

That of course doesn't sit well with anyone, least of all Tony.

Petvengers (Or, how Peter tricks NY heroes into pet adoption) by Lurafita

Kind of a follow up to 'The wounds we see (and the scars we don't), but only in the way that all stories in the series connect to each other. This is bordering on crack, seriously. It is a lot of fun to write though. I hope you will enjoy it.

Peter has decided that New York's heroes should all have (at least one) pet. Because pets are awesome. Now he just has to convince them of it.

How to Confuse Captain America: A Guide by Peter Parker by ginabeana45

“I never thought you’d be the fathering type.” Natasha’s smirk is wicked and amusing. Steve probably would have laughed if he weren’t so disoriented right now.

Tony shrugged, lifting his coffee cup up like a toast. “Yeah, well, I never thought we’d ever be able to sit in the same room without trying to kill each other again. Things change, Nat.”

All of Steve’s thoughts come squealing to a record-scratch stop as Natasha’s words catch up to him. The fathering type, she’d said. Fathering? And Tony hadn’t denied it. Not even a little bit. “Wait a minute. Was that… your… son?”

Something Like Family by polaroid15

“You’re a dad,” Rhodey says, delayed in his shock. “How the hell did this happen?”

“I’m not a dad, alright? Not even close.”

“You brought your kid to Germany!”

“Again, he's not my kid.”

Or- five times Peter reveals his identity to an Avenger, much to Tony's dismay, and one time he saves them all.

5 Times Peter Parker Saved an Avenger by petreparkour

...and the one time they saved him.

Very Normal, Totally Regular Human Intern by Winterturtle for oriocookie

Peter being Peter, he insisted he came along. “I’ll be like a… like an emotional support dog!” And Tony being Tony couldn’t say no to those puppy eyes. The kid was just good like that. Always offering to help. “All right. But keep your head down, you hear me? I’m merely taking my very normal, totally regular human intern for a joyride, not Spider-Man.”

~~

Rogers and his merry band are granted a parole they are to serve at the Compound. Tony made Peter promise to keep his powers hidden, but when he wakes up kidnapped along with the kid and the Rogues, it takes Peter about ten minutes to break the whole totally regular human intern façade.

5 Times Peter is Seen With the Avengers by Nexas_Hart

+1 Time They're Seen With Him

if your wings are broken, borrow mine by thelast_ofellie

The Rogues come back to the Compound.

Peter isn’t happy about it.

AKA the “call me son one more time” line from Meet Me Inside but it’s Peter yelling at Steve AKA self-indulgent Protective Peter Parker

Peter Parker: Therapist Extraordinaire by sakurasprigs

Steve looked up, expecting to see his friend’s exhausted face, but instead found him positively grinning with a small paper lunch sack in his hand.

“You seem awfully happy,” said Steve in lieu of a greeting.

Natasha and Bucky chose that moment to enter the common room as well, wearing sweaty gym clothes and with messed-up hair. “Hey Sam,” said Natasha. “How terrible was the kid?”

“I take everything back I ever said.” Sam unrolled the top of the lunch sack and showed them its contents. “He brought cookies! You’ve gotta try one, they’re literally the best things I’ve ever tasted in my life.”

Aka, the fic in which Peter volunteers at the VA with Sam, who ends up practically adopting him and tells the whole team, making them all want to meet the fabled kid. Turns out, he might be a lot more familiar than they thought.

Finals = Sleepy Spider meets Avengers by Firebird_wilmon

Peter is barely awake by the time he makes it to the penthouse of Stark Tower after finishing finals. He falls asleep on Bucky Barnes, who is with the newly pardoned Avengers, while Tony is in a meeting. Tony rushes in to get him to sleep away from the Rogues and keep his identity safe. The Rogues make assumptions as to who Peter is from Tony actions, there wrong, but not really.

Cue sleepy Peter, good dad Tony, confused Avengers.

Let's take Peter Parker down by Bergen

The Avengers really appreciate everything Spider-Man has done for them. Not to mention, they feel kind of protective of this – clearly rather young – new Avenger. So, Natasha and Clint are in agreement: Tracing down that annoying Daily Bugle photographer Peter Parker, and getting him to stop harassing their spider-friend is the least they can do.

bring him home by parkrstark for geekymoviemom

During the clean up after the Battle of New York, Steve finds a little boy in the rubble of an orphanage. He finds out this little boy is almost as strong as he is, and he knows he can't let anyone get their hands on him. People would do crazy things for a mutant child. Steve vows to protect him so he can grow up as a child and not as a lab rat.

tip of the iceberg by OnlyForward

Tony invites Peter to an Avengers training session, where he spars with Captain America and proceeds to knock him to the floor with one hit.

Whumptober Prompt 28: It's just the tip of the iceberg

this city makes me feel so small by InternalPencil 

The rest of the team hadn't addressed Peter more than a glance yet, but it was okay. He was being self-absorbed. He didn't need them to be focused on him all the time.

It was fine. Peter just needed to shut up. Maybe they were annoyed at him. Maybe they were sick of him running his mouth. Maybe he was just too young. Maybe he didn't belong there. Maybe they didn't want him there.

He hugged his knees to his chest, making himself smaller.

Or: 5 times Peter Parker felt left out by the Avengers + 1 time he finally felt included.

Not-so-secret-anymore-son by Ungrateful_Sneeze 

Tony has kept the fact that he has a son a secret from the avengers for a long time.

Too bad Peter ruins it by bumping into all of them on a quest for some cereal at 3 am.

Spoiler alert: the cereal does not survive :(

[crescentsteel]

Just Friends - Part 10

plot: fubu set up with Kuroo, model fem reader genre: fluff, smut, slow burn, angst  word count:  7k

A/N [More at the end]: 

I reviewed and edited Chapters 1 and 2 a bit because I kinda cringed at the errors and my writing was wonky (more than it already is now). No plot changes don't worry.

Thank you for all those who read this, especially to those who took their time to comment and feedback. It meant the world to me who stayed up later than usual and poured my heart out on this.

Part 9 || Epilogue || m.list

You instantly snapped your head up with expanded eyes. Despite the sternness his voice contained, you saw the delicate swirl of complex  emotions in his eyes, one that you haven’t seen him display before. You saw how the contrast of heartache and relief graced his features. 

“I love you, y.n.”

The quietness gave way for you to hear every single word he said. It was gently uttered, but firm on what it meant. 

It was almost magical, if not for the perplexity which came with that statement that enshrouded everything else.

As if the universe agreed with you, another set of lights landed on both of you, popping the enchanted bubble you two were in.

“Let’s go. We need to talk” He moved his hand from your waist to the back of your shoulder and guided you to his car. Still unable to regain your calm from what just happened, you absent-mindedly followed him and went inside the passenger’s seat.

“My place or yours?”

His question made you buck yourself up to the present again. It was the question that started your indecent affairs with Kuroo, and now he’s using it to settle what branched from said affairs.

“Did you really just ask me that?” You were unable to refrain yourself from retorting.

“What?” He asked back even though his eyes had a tender playfulness to them. He clearly knew what you meant but wanted you to elaborate for his entertainment.

You just rolled your eyes and ignored it. “Yours.” You weren’t playing his game. You just rather resolve the issue at hand somewhere not in your place. The last time’s conflict left you feeling vacant when he walked out the door and you stayed there with gloom lingering on every space of your place. You couldn’t do anything because it was your home. You just let it evaporate on its own.

In case things go South like they always do, you wouldn’t want to worsen the state of your already sullied abode. 

So you let him start the vehicle and drive off.

“I really thought you were gone again,” he broke the fragile silence.

“What do you mean?”

“I went to your place and they told me you left. I assumed you flew somewhere insanely far away for the second time.” All the involute sentiments he was carrying a while ago dissipated. He’s back to his laid-back self.

“Why would you think that?”

He sneered as his eyes flashed with bitterness even as he stared at the road. “Cause that’s what you do, kitten. You run away when things get too inconvenient for you.”

What could you say to that? 

Nothing. He was absolutely right. 

You tried to prove to yourself that you weren’t a spoiled rich brat by working your butt off, but it was never too difficult for you. You worked hard, but everything went smoothly like how you wanted them to. 

But with Kuroo, everything was in shambles. And in every chance you had to make things right with him, you chicken out. You blamed external factors such as timing not being right or other people were in the way. But you always had your chance. You just despised the fact that you had to cross certain barriers to move forward with your relationship with him. You wanted things easy. 

Before you left, you really believed that you wanted to confess to him just to get some clarity on your relationship. So why did you stop talking to him at all? If that was your only goal, you could’ve talked to him the morning after. But you didn’t. Because you didn’t like the pain of facing him again when he was messing around with women other than you. So instead of facing it head on, you ran away. 

It was the same when you confessed dead drunk and forgot the next morning. You were scared that he didn’t feel the same way, so you took the safe way out. 

And when it was becoming too much again, you were tempted to do the same exact thing you did ago: remove all the complications in your life by getting away from the source of it - Kuroo. 

With your mind flooded with realizations, you didn’t notice that you arrived at his place already. 

At least that was what you thought because he stopped the engine, but the neighborhood wasn’t familiar to you.

“Where are we?” you asked. 

“My place. Duh.” He answered before getting out. It was sarcastic, but it cheered you up. He was back to how he used to treat you before the drunken fiasco. It was just three weeks but it felt like you haven’t heard his taunts far longer than that. That’s how much you missed him.

You followed him and stepped out of his car as well. He must’ve moved out just recently, probably when you weren’t talking much, or else you would’ve known. 

“Glad to know you moved out of that dump.” Even with the current situation, you couldn’t just stay quiet when your mind instinctively thought of something to get back to his snarky remark. 

“Dump, huh?” He was looking at a certain building that you surmised was where his new apartment was. He scoffed before looking at you.

“Wonder why you agreed to let me fuck you in that dump though.” His grin spread wide enough that his teeth showed, clearly pleased with how he handled your usual battle of sarcasm.

You veered from his playful gaze and pursed your lips from the lack of a good response to bring down that haughty smile of his.

You regret ragging him on. You should’ve just stayed quiet. 

“Can we go inside now? It’s cold” You changed the topic being the loser that you were. 

“Come on then.” His satisfied smirk was still on his face knowing that he won that quick exchange. He waited for you to go to his side, then started walking towards the building.  

When you came back to the country, you thought it was odd that still stayed in his previous place. You were positive that he could afford to get a nicer one. Now it made sense. He was saving up for this. 

While heading to his unit, you could tell from the interior and the exterior of the building that the price of the place was above average. 

Inside the elevator, there was only you and him. He was about to press his floor number, but his hand stopped mid air before putting it down again.

“Wanna guess what floor I’m in?”

“And if I get it wrong?” He didn’t have to say it out loud for you to know where he was going with it. It was one of your gambling games. 

“You owe me nothing but the truth tonight.” Your bets were fun and the stakes were always petty but the weight of his stare let you know that the intent behind it was nothing compared to your previous wagers. 

He would demand nothing else but the truth from you when you two start to talk about the issue at hand. 

You found it strange. Of course, you would be honest. That’s the point of the conversation you’d be having when you reach his unit. 

But since he was acting like candor was of great worth to get from you, you’d ask for something of similar value. 

“If I get it right, I’m getting your Nekoma jersey. The one with No.1 on it.”

He was obviously taken aback from what you asked for. “Why that?”

“Why not?” You immediately asked back. 

He looked at the numbers on the side of the elevators while he scratched the roof of his teeth with tongue. 

“I changed my mind. I want all of them.”

“Huh?!”

“The odds aren’t right. There are 40 floors and the chance of getting it right is only 1/40. If you’d think about it, I’m even being generous.”

He clicked his tongue, acknowledging that your point was valid. “Deal.”

You instantly responded without even thinking twice, “22.”

You wished you could’ve captured his reaction. 

“You were already eyeing 22, dumbass. Your hand literally stopped in front of that number.” You shook your head as you snickered from that tiny victory, letting it take some of your tension away. “Say goodbye to your jerseys tonight,” you added. 

He usually won’t make such a mistake during your gambles. And because he did, you worked out that he must be distressed too. 

“Fuck.” He cursed then pressed the button you just said.

“Ugh fine, you can keep one.” You felt bad cause you even though the probability of you winning was low, the stakes for you were basically a given. 

The way on his unit was spent arguing on why the deal should be void because it wasn’t really a gamble since you already knew the answer. 

On his doorstep, you both hastenly arrived at a compromise of getting only his captain’s jersey, knowing that the inescapable confrontation is about to take place.

When he opened the door, it was nicer than you expected. It was modern looking with its minimalist interior and gray, black, and white tones. Your place was bigger but this looked more spacious because there weren’t unnecessary furnitures. 

The click of the door brought you back to why you were here. All the monkeying around a while ago was just a prelude to this and any impact it had on you was diminishing by the second. Things were about to get serious. You could feel anxiety crawling back to your skin. 

You didn’t wait for his hospitality and sat yourself on the couch. 

He immediately went after and sat beside you. 

You shook your head. “No.”

“What?” A frown creasing his forehead from the ‘no’ that came out of nowhere. 

“Don’t sit near me. It makes me uncomfortable.” It might have been rude, but you just had to say it. You want your mind working functionally so you can’t have him anywhere near your personal space. 

Instead of getting offended, he eyed you with consideration before standing up. He got a chair from his dining area and sat a good few steps away from you. He crossed his legs and arms. 

“So?” He proceeded, imploring you to be the first one to open the conversation that was suspended by the vehicle earlier. 

“What do you mean ‘so’?” You laughed sourly. “You’re the one supposed to explain things. Do you expect me to just accept what you said a while ago?”

He threw you a questioning look. “Is it really that hard to believe?” “You avoided me for weeks. When I tried to make up with you, you brushed me off cause you were seeing someone else. So my apologies for being so skeptical,” your last sentence full of uninhibited scorn.

“Who said I was seeing her? She’s just a volleyball player I’m working with.” If this was a normal conversation, he’d definitely have some snide comments to go along with it. But he didn’t swerve to his usual smugness. He remained pensive.

You couldn’t think of a decent reply except for an timid “Oh” that came from your mouth. You’re reassured that it wasn’t like that, but it was overpowered by the shame brought by your incorrect assumption.  

He didn’t wait for you to recover as he asked right away, “Why did you ignore me after that?” 

But despite the embarrassment, your brain was still running its engine properly. So you skillfully evade his query. “You still haven’t told me why you avoided me prior to that.”

He puffed a heavy breath. “I didn’t know how to get back to that friendship bullshit that you wanted so bad.” He uncrossed his legs and slouched with his elbows on his thighs. “Now answer my question,” he commanded.

“Well.. I didn’t want to intervene with whatever or whoever it is you’re busy with,” you said a bit too quickly without explaining further. “My turn again,” you continued on/

“No. I addressed two things from you so it’s still my turn,” he firmly asserted.

You were about to retaliate but he beat you to it with his own question. “How many times have I made you cry?”

It was an abrupt one that wasn’t in line with the previous questions that preceded it. You flinched from how it hit that certain memory you thought you moved on from.

“Never. What gave you that idea?” You denied as fast as you could. He didn’t have to know that insignificant detail. ‘It doesn’t  matter’ you told yourself even though you knew it was your pride that wouldn’t let you answer truthfully.

You’re glad to have won the bet earlier. Even though you thought you were going to be completely honest, there were just some details that need not be known.

Heated stares replaced words as both of you waited until the other withdrew. He was glaring at you, looking for an ounce of deceit. Too bad for him though because you have no intentions of folding. 

You arose the winner when he’s the first to concede as he straightened his posture from slouching. He leaned back on the backrest of his chair and sighed exasperatedly. 

“Man, I’d like to complain, but I guess your tenacity is one of the reasons why I fell for you.”

You were doing so well but with what he just said, your heart is back to the mess it was when he pulled you to him and said he loves you for the first time.

“Cat got your tongue, kitten?” His smug grin back to its former glory, making you even more flustered than you already were.

“How can you say things like that so indifferently?” You voiced out, irritated at how he’s so relaxed while youre all wound up.

“Look. I’ve been keeping my mouth shut ever since you came back. Now that it’s out in the open, I’ll say it as much as I want to.”

Did you hear him correctly? He said ‘since you came back.’ When exactly did he start having feelings for you? 

“What do-”

“Hold it right there. You don’t get to ask anything yet since your last answer was a lie.”

You groaned. He shouldn’t be allowed to call you tenacious when he’s even worse than you are when he wants to be. “It is not. So let’s move on,” you tried to proceed but he cut you off right away.

“Kenma told me.”

Your solid defiance rapidly chipped from your secret being found out by the person you wanted to hide it from. You could only guess that Kenma told him just now. That’s why he was on a rampant chase to find you. 

The earlier gamble made sense now. He anticipated your refusal to admit what happened back then, back before you left. So he wanted to ensure that you would be forthright about it. 

Even after losing the bet, his goal was still secured for he had Kenma’s story as proof.

You tried to feel any hostility towards Kenma but you didn’t have it in your heart to do so. You trusted Kenma. He must have had a good reason for telling Kuroo now when he’d kept it well for more than a year.

“Fine,” you said under your breath. 

“Too many that I didn’t bother counting.”

Guilt darkened the diffidence on his face. He must not have expected that you would be the type to cry over a guy, especially him who started his relationship with you only as a bed warmer.  

But you went on with your previous question since that’s what was pervading in your mind. “When did you realize?” You were really curious since when the feeling has been mutual between the two of you. 

“Realize what?”

“That you l-,” you hesitated, reluctant to fully spat out the phrase completely even though he already said it first hand. Looking back, you don't know how you convinced yourself to admit your feelings to him when you’re stuttering from a trifling thing such as this. 

“That I love you?”

You staved off away from his perfervid stare, not able to handle it as you replied a brash “Yeah” to maintain your tough façade.

“At the very same night you were supposed to confess.”

You harshly returned your gaze to him. “Was that a joke?” You chuckled wryly. “In case you forgot, I was there.” 

You were grateful to Kenma being there at that moment, but it’s different when it’s finally Kuroo you’re confronting. You could feel all the unaddressed bitterness you buried deep inside take over you.

“I was hoping to get an honest conversation. Instead, I arrived at the godforsaken bar,” you continued with a forced smile, “and stood watch as you made that first move to kiss her, how you pulled her close like ….  like you couldn’t get enough.” The particular scene tore you back then and it does just the same now. Before you knew it, warm liquid pooled in the corner of your eyes without any warning. 

You turned your head sideway and let your hair cover your face. 

You didn’t want him to see how your lips quivered as you fend off a whimper that was already at the back of your tongue

You sealed shut any feelings you had for that certain chapter of your relationship with Kuroo. So you couldn’t understand the surge of sullenness that flowed through you. It must be from how paradoxical his narrative seemed. 

How could he claim to love you when he enjoyed the sultry company of another?

If Kuroo would think of two words to describe your personality, it would be determined and composed, to the point that you can seem cold and apathetic at times. You were the kind of person who didn’t give two shits to anything you found unnecessary or irrelevant. 

Since he met you, you constantly had your guard up as if people will find something awful if they get a tiny peek of what you really are. He couldn’t do something about that. He didn’t have any right to. You two were only fucking around. He later figured out that you didn’t want people to know who you really were - an heiress and a successful model. 

That’s why you traded carefully around people. 

But when you came back and asked only for friendship, you still had your fences up like you were hiding something. He thought maybe because you’ve had them up for so long that you didn’t know how to turn it off, even for him whom you considered a friend. 

So to see you struggling to keep your walls up that were slowly crumbling, he realized why you have a soft spot for Kenma. He’s already seen what you tried so hard to protect.

Disobeying your earlier instruction to not sit beside you, he stood up from the chair and moved to your side. 

When you saw him do so, you didn’t say anything. You only raised your hand to nimbly wipe your tears that were already falling. He grabbed your hand you were using and held it still on your lap. He replaced it with his own, drying your tears with his fingers. 

It was the least he could do with being the cause of it, and he was glad you let him even though you still kept your eyes away from him.

He trailed his fingers down your jaw and slightly lifted your face so he could look at you. What he saw was unrefined vulnerability, and even then, you wore it beautifully. 

He finally understood. That wall you built when you met again was exclusively for him. You guarded your heart from him. You created the friends only set up so you wouldn’t get hurt again.

It made him feel like shit. You really did love him back then, enough to cause you this pain.

“I’m sorry. I was half-assed about it at the time. Nothing more happened with me and whoever that girl was. I just,” he trailed off knowing that the next thing he’s going to say is gonna sound stupid. “used her to see if what I felt for you was real.”

You raised your gaze to him with eyes wide with disbelief. “Are you serious?”

“I know it’s idiotic, okay?” His voice took a slightly defensive tone as you were about to judge his line of thinking back then. “But we were only fuck buddies. I didn’t want to start a relationship with you then realize that I was just confusing the comfort of your company with something as serious as love.”

He stroked your knuckles after he explained.

“I really am sorry, y/n. I didn’t mean to hurt you like that.” His words dripping with remorse from every single tear that you shed for him without him knowing. 

“Why tell me only now? It’s been months since I came back.”

“You were insanely driven on being friends only. I didn’t think you feel the same way.”

No one said anything after. He couldn’t tell if you’re aware of it too, but he could feel tension in his every vein as his next question dangled on the tip of his tongue. 

“Do you?”

You bit your lip as you averted your eyes downwards again. 

“You know the answer to that already.”

Indeed he does. You wouldn’t be this affected if you didn’t. But he has to hear it directly from you. He has to hear you say you love him for real this time. 

“I need it to come from you.” He gently held your cheek to guide you back to his gaze. He needs to see the entirety of your face, especially your eyes, when you finally tell him how you truly feel about him. 

“I… I-” He could see your strenuous struggle to get the phrase out. You eminently tried as you kept uttering the first syllable but nothing after that. “I can’t say it,” you said defeatedly. 

He should be frustrated. He laid out all his cards open for you to see, but you refused to do the same when you had one last face down card that would declare the game over where you both win. 

But he held nothing but patience. He could wait for the phrase he’d been longing for as long as he made sure of something.

“You don’t have to if you can’t say it. But I’ll be honest. I,” he let out a deep breath before continuing, “I can’t stand us being friends only anymore.”

He removed his light grasp on your face as his hand travelled to the one that he hasn’t been holding. He lightly squeezed your fingers to get you to heed the attention he needed from you. 

“Be my girlfriend, y/n. Be mine.”

If you say no at this point, he’d lose his mind.

With his focus solely on you as he waited for an answer, he saw a subtle nod from you.

“Okay.”

It might seem too simple and bland of an answer. But you two had been going on through ragged stops for a year that he couldn’t care about trivial crap like that. 

It wasn’t sweet and he found that perfectly okay. Because it was you. He just needed you to finally let him be more than just fuck buddy, more than a friend.

And when your lips tugged on both corners to form a smile that was directed at him, especially for him, it made his heart soar.

“Is this really happening?”

You had the gall to be skeptical when his actions never hid his affection for you. He just didn’t say it out loud.

“You bet your ass it is.” Instead of his usual shit-eating smile that would’ve accompanied his response, his smile mirrored yours.

You were both happy.

Unable to contain himself, he acted on what always wanted.to without anything holding him back. 

He kissed you. 

No alcohol and no bullshit involved, just taking in that first touch of your lips as officially your lover.

His hands travel up to your shoulders as he scoots over to have you closer. You taste and feel ethereal. It was unlike any kiss you’ve shared in the past. The ache he had for you this whole time was being lulled by how your soft lips cascaded on his. 

His one hand goes up to the base of your neck while he parts your lips so he can have better access on the wonders of your mouth. 

You sighed helplessly to the kiss before withdrawing just a bit, your warm breaths still mingling with one another. 

“Wait,” you gasped inches away from his lips before burrowing your face on the crook of his neck. 

“What’s wrong?” He asked worriedly, stroking your neck and shoulder to soothe whatever it is that’s bothering you.. 

“It feels weird.”

“Weird how?”

You lifted your head and looked at him with the most insane blush he’s seen from you. Your cheeks were a rosy fury that highlighted a foreign countenance in your face. Your orbs were glossy and sparkling with a tiny hint of naivety that he’s never seen from you. Your mouth was compressed in a thin line that he could tell was done to prevent the trembling of your lips that was still slightly evident.

He managed to get another unknown aspect of you to surface, and goddamn what a pleasant surprise it was. 

He loves your confidence. It was sexy. But bashfulness was an exceptional look on you too. It provided depth to your character which was already fascinating to him to begin with. 

He couldn’t wait until he could fully discover everything about you, even the one you still weren’t aware of. 

“It’s like I’m overwhelmed by something until I can’t breathe. But I… I like it?” You glowered right after describing it, probably thinking that it sounded asinine. 

He was amused and charmed at the same time from how you tried to put into words how he was making you feel. 

“You do realize we’ve fucked countless times already.” He couldn’t resist goading further even when he knew exactly what you were talking about. 

“You don’t say,” you riposted, gaining your smart-assery back to which he laughs at. 

“God, I really love you.”

He lunges to claim your lips once more, his need to have more of you back with heightened intensity.

You were getting dizzy from how he was kissing you. It was much more needy than the previous one. You still haven’t fully grasped what just happened and yet he’s already filling your senses, making you forget the tiny insignificant details and retaining only one fact that mattered. 

You and him. 

His hand on your shoulder wanders down to your waist while you grasp his biceps for support as he pulls you even closer until you were straddling him. 

His mouth did not linger too long on yours as it impatiently trailed down your neck, interchanging loving kisses with hungry sucks that stirred your thirst for him.

You remembered some parts of the drunken sex you had, but they were just flashes and blurred images. The sensation from the experience wasn’t retained. 

It seemed like a far away memory compared to how he was making you feel at the present moment.

You suddenly feel him slip his hand underneath your shirt, palming your bare skin upwards until it reaches one soft mound which he doesn't hesitate to squeeze.

“Haaaa. Kurooo, wait,” you plead breathlessly. You were getting overwhelmed by how he swiftly fanned the flames of desire that was spreading throughout your body.

His lips left the sensitive skin of your collar and met your gaze with restrained hunger.

“What is it?” 

You didn’t know what to say. Did you want him to slow down or just have his way with you already?

He must have noticed your conflict so he decided for you. 

He chose the latter.

Both his hands scurried to your hips, guiding you to raise them slightly while his lips find their way to yours again. Not bothering to remove or even tug down your leggings, he slid one hand inside which was welcomed by your slick arousal. 

“Why’d you stop me when you’re already this wet?” He asked with pride flickering in his eyes knowing that it was him who caused it. 

But he did not let you answer as he shoved one finger in your core.

“Aahh,” your eyes closed shut and your thighs tremble from the sudden pleasure as your hands move to clutch his shoulders to anchor yourself. You rest your forehead on his while puffing heavily. 

“Kuroo...” you whimpered.

He steadies you with one hand, but does not relent as he inserts one more digit.

“Hmmm?” You could tell that he was enjoying your wanton surrender just from the way he sounded. 

“It feels too much,” you admitted. 

“Too much? Oh kitten, we’ve barely even started.”

He took the hem of your shirt and lifted it up. “Bite it,” he commanded and you complied obediently. 

He hoists your bra down your chest, exposing your unclad breasts to him. He eagerly takes one perk nipple in his mouth while his one hand goes around your waist. He retacts his fingers inside and rubs the bundle of nerves above your slit in hurried circles that were driving you to the brink of madness. 

He was right. This was still foreplay, but you were already so feverish. 

Your moans were muffled by how hard you were biting the cotton fabric of your shirt. 

“Take your shirt off. I want to hear you,” his voice raspy as he stopped everything he was doing that was making you feel good. You quickly yanked your shirt off so he could go back to doing them right away.

 As soon as your top was thrown away, he inserted the same fingers back again and started pumping in and out aggressively. 

With his request and the absence of your shirt, nothing was repressing the salacious sounds that were coming out of your mouth

The heat in the pit of your groin was building up too fast. It was a very steep peak that he was rapidly coercing you to reach. 

“Feels-ahh-so good.”

He groaned in response. He took out his digits and loosened his hold of you which made you flutter your eyes open. 

“Let’s take this to my bed,” he said ruggedly as he was about to get up. 

You firmly grasp his shoulders to stop him. “Wait.”

A dash of timidness came over you again which you couldn’t understand. Just like he said earlier, you’ve had a lot of sex. You did things more scandalous than what you had in mind, but you feel flustered just thinking about saying it out loud. 

“What is it?”

“Uhh,” you swallowed your nerves. “Do you mind getting your couch dirty?” 

He raised an eyebrow from your question, but was immediately followed by a riveting smile upon realizing what you meant. 

“Not all,” he took off his shirt then proceeded to unclasp your bra that was still lugged your breasts. 

“We can get it dirty as much as we want,” he whispered right in your ear. 

--

Sex with Kuroo before usually ended with both of you scramming to get water or go to the bathroom to clean up. Then when you went back to his bed, both of you just settled down in  whatever position you were comfortable in. 

Holding each other after sex just was never on the table. No one talked about it and no one initiated so you figured both of you weren’t into it. You weren’t sure about him but you found the act too intimate to do between casual sexmates.

You had no idea it felt this good to be cradled by him.

Your head was nested on his arm that he extended for you. His other one was enveloped around your waist and your face and hands were burrowed on his chest. 

“This is nice,” was an understatement that you breathed on his skin.

“Mmhmm. More especially since you’re awake and sober,” he hummed on your hair.

“Hmm?”

He chuckles lightly as he caresses your hair delicately, his fingers sometimes grazing your nape. 

“Yeah, I held you like this the night of my birthday instead of going back.”

You definitely had no memories of that. You knew he took care of you, but you didn’t think he got cozy in bed afterwards. 

“I thought awww poor you. You seemed like you could use a cuddle. You did beg me to fuck you after all.”

Typical of him, he had to be an ass and ruin the moment. 

But you didn’t believe him. You knew that’s not what happened. You did kiss him first and asked him to stay, but you did not beg. Even if you did forget everything, you still wouldn’t believe him. You’re not the type of person to beg.

“Don’t invent stories just because you wanted to feel me up after sex.” 

His chest rumbles within your touch as he worked up a laugh from your snappy comeback. “You’re really something, kitten.”

“You’re gonna keep calling me that, huh?”

He cranes his head back a bit, creating some space between you. You could tell he was peering at you.

“Don’t like it?”

You smile at his question. You found the nickname tacky at first, but it kind of got stuck with you. He’s never called you any other pet names other than that and it made you feel like it was solely for you.

“No, I love it.”

You tilt your head up a bit to look at him.

“I love you.”

You were so apprehensive earlier because of the torment that still lingered from the many failed attempts to tell him so. 

You thought you would need more time, but that doesn’t seem to be the case as he easily whisked your worries away just by being with him like this. 

You were finally able to tell him sincerely in your own accord. You didn’t realize keeping these feelings all to yourself was so heavy that letting it out was such a liberating experience.

As you free your chest with the restless burden of secretly loving him, you don’t feel empty because your heart was filled with content from knowing that he loves you just the same.

It reflects on his face, more so now that his smile is growing broader by the second which was accompanied by a noticeable flush on his cheeks that was illuminated by the dim light of his night lamp.”

“I love you too, y/n.” His eyes exuding profound adoration for you.

“I had my chance to tell you the morning after I got wasted. I just-”

“Hey,” he cut you off then removed his hand on your waist to cup your neck, his thumb brushing gently the curve of your jaw. 

“I have you now. That’s all I care about,” the elated smile still not leaving his face. 

“I can see that. You look too freaking happy,” you said as revenge for how he ruined your moment just a while ago. 

“Well, sorry I’m not emotionally constipated like you,” he quickly outwitted your attempt to mock him. 

“You scumbag,” you hissed despite his blissful smile infecting you. 

He pulls you again closer to him until your bodies stripped off of any clothing are perfectly molded against each other. 

“Yea yea, say whatever you want but I’m the scumbag you love.” Even when you couldn’t see his face anymore, you could still hear how enraptured he was. 

And so were you as you snuggled with him until you fell asleep. 

--

“Sorry, I’ll be a little late, kitten. I need to be here for a while even though the game ended already.”

You could hear him scuffling around with the dwindling sound of excitement in the background. 

You’re already late from your planned time, but he was running even later. Not that you were upset. You didn’t have major plans or anything. You just agreed to go to his place together since you’re spending the night there. 

“You have my keys, right? You can go ahead.”

“I can go there and wait for you,” you suggested since you still have some energy left from the orderly photoshoot you had this late afternoon. Also, you’d just be restless waiting for him at his apartment. 

“You sure?” He asked even though you were sure he’s smiling judging from the way he sounded. 

“Yup.”

“Okay then! Have to hang up now though. Love you, kitten,” then he ended the call. 

It’s been almost a month now since you two were officially together but he sometimes still catches you off guard with how he expresses his love for you without reservations. But you have no complaints. 

Upon arriving in Tokyo Stadium, there were only a few people inside, and some of those few are heading out. 

Thank goodness for that. Even if you weren’t feeling tired, you didn’t wanna get squashed by Volleyball enthusiasts. It would also make your bed-headed boyfriend much easier to find. 

You don’t want to call him just yet. He’s probably still occupied so you’ll just look for him. 

As you paced the area unsurely, you were starting to doubt your decision to look for him on your own. You had no idea stadiums had this kind of structure on the inside since you’ve never gone in one. You thought it was just one big open area with elevated benches.

Instead of going inside the actual playing arena, you went to the narrow halls that branched to the sides of the building.

Just before passing a certain corner, someone emerged from a room that you weren’t aware was actually there.

“Oy Hinata, I’m going ahead if you keep being a slowtard,” a tall, dark-haired man aggressively stated before walking towards your direction.

“Kageyama, you impatient turd!” A bright orange-haired guy, who’s probably called Hinata, came out right after, hurrying to go after the dark haired one who’s most likely Kageyama.

Before he could even pass you by, you lock eyes with Hinata.

A snap of familiarity hits you both.

“Waah. Ms. Pretty!” He said in English, completely and overwhelmingly affable that it was almost adorable.

Oh right, you spoke in English the first time you met.

“Hello.” You smiled politely, still holding up your non-Japanese speaking facade.

Kageyama stopped walking and turned his attention to you. He bowed then looked at Hinata. “You know her?” He asked in Nihongo.

“Not really. But it was kinda funny, Kuroo-san called her ‘kitten’ but she didn’t really know him,” Hinata grinned from amusement only but Kageyama didn’t respond.

Hinata frowned and took a semi defensive stance. “You better not tell Kuroo-san I said that.”

You just alternate your gaze between the two men, deciding whether you should admit that you could actually speak Nihongo and that you’re looking for Kuroo or just let things play out as is. 

“What’s the noise all about?” 

Another set of recognizable faces turned up - fake blondie, curly, and black and white.

It wasn’t hard to guess why they were there. They were athletes. They weren’t just guests in the event. They were most likely brand ambassadors too, except for Kageyama. It’s the first time you saw the man. 

They must be part of the national team. Kuroo did say it was an international match today.

Fake blondie’s face lit up as soon as his eyes landed on your face. He quickly made his way to approach you, passing by Hinata when he did.

“You lost, pretty girl?” It contained everything Hinata’s previous compliment lacked, pure flirtatiousness together with a come-hither smile. 

So the Volleyball national team can somehow speak English. Although, they still retained their heavy accents.  

You studied fake blondie in front of you and quickly decided that you wouldn’t date him even if you haven’t met Kuroo. The guy’s hot, but he seems like an idiot.

“Y/n?”

Someone who you didn’t have to identify by his hair entered the scene, Yaku. 

You wave reservedly at him for you still haven’t forgotten how you acted around him the first you met.

“What’re you doing here?” He, then, turned to fake blondie. “Cut it out, Miya-san. I’m certain she’s not interested.”

“She can’t understand Nihongo, Yaku-san.” Black and white appeared to be whispering but his voice was loud enough for everyone to hear.. 

Yaku threw him a confused look. “What? I met her around two months ago. She’s a local, Bokuto.”

The Miya person scowled, “Geez. Could’ve saved me the trouble.”

You just ignored him and shifted your attention to Yaku. 

“I’m looking for Tet-” you cleared your throat. He’s been pestering you to call him ‘Tetsu’ every single day until you just succumbed to it and it became normal to you. You almost addressed him as such to these people who you presume he’s working with. 

“I’m looking for Kuroo.”

Yaku raised an eyebrow with intrigue twinkling on his whole face. “Oh?” 

“Mmmhmm,” you answered obscurely. 

“You friends or somethin?” Miya asked with an ounce of wariness, changing your initial thought of him being an idiot.

Yaku grinned. “They’re just friends,” he answered for you, obviously anticipating whether you’d agree or not. 

You weren’t ashamed of dating Kuroo, but you’ve had some kind of weird interaction with these people that involved Kuroo, save for Kageyama obviously. Poor guy must be confused at the novelty of what’s happening.

From behind Bokuto and the curly haired guy whose name you still have no idea what, the man you were looking for presented himself and walked towards you. 

Those he passed by had their eyes lingering on his back with Miya being the last person to notice him since Miya is the closest to you. 

“Not that it’s any of your business,” he puts a possessive arm around you, “ but this lost lady here is my girlfriend.” 

You tried to hold off a smile, but it was futile. You didn’t expect that announcing it to other people was that gratifying after more than a year of consistently telling people otherwise. . 

Damn it feels good to be more than just friends with Kuroo. 

A/N”

I want to cry. This was my very first fic and my very first series as well. I'm so happy to see it through and finish it.

I'm thinking of an epilogue maybe next year, but for now, I'm marking it as completed.

I love you all.

Part 9 || Epilogue ||  m.list

taglist (thos in bold and crossed out can’t be tagged)

@lia-faerie-queen @mkkhaikyuu @fastidious-and-precise @winunk @feelkindahorny @cece-lives-here @arendizzle @phantomneko0 @ysatrap @babythotshq @ameliaxo @miiy @kurooscoochie @lucifers-luv @suikrem

[kaizokuou-ni-naru]

The Voyage So Far: Paramount War (Part One)

east blue (1 | 2) || alabasta (1 | 2) || skypiea || water 7 || enies lobby || thriller bark || paramount war (1 | 2) || fishman island || punk hazard || dressrosa (1 | 2) || whole cake island || wano (1 | 2)

the introduction of the celestial dragons really is just so brutally effective. this is the first time we see them, and before they even show up on page they immediately establish themselves as both absolutely powerful and absolutely despicable. everyone is watching them commit atrocities in broad daylight, and nobody dares say a word. 

i mentioned it back in the enies lobby post, i think, with spandam, but oda is very, very good at creating villains who it just feels so good and so deeply satisfying to see them get annihilated, and the celestial dragons are maybe the crowning example of it. 

i really like how none of the strawhats are really intimidated or impressed at all by the celestial dragons, in sharp contrast to how everyone else responds to them. some of that is ignorance, but you can’t tell me zoro would have acted any differently in this scene had he known charloss was a member of the world’s ruling class. all the power the celestial dragons have comes from fear; of course their greatest weakness is someone who just doesn’t care. 

obviously this moment is just excellent, no qualifiers needed, but one thing i really love about it is how all the bad shit that results from this does not detract from the sheer satisfaction of what happens at the auction house at all. like, even though this leads directly to the strawhats getting crushed by the pacifista and kizaru and scattered by kuma, i’ve never once caught myself thinking luffy shouldn’t have done this. 

i’m a huge fan of how rayleigh introduces himself. he knocks out the whole action house with conqueror’s haki, but luffy is completely unaffected, and the two of them just watch each other down the aisle for a moment as everyone else collapses around them. 

i don’t know that i’ll ever get over the fact that oda created and designed the supernovas as he was writing sabaody. they’re all such distinct and memorable characters, and almost all of them have fit neatly into the post-timeskip story one way or another. they really feel like a part of the world that was always meant to be there. 

i think the way roger as a character is handled is very, very cool, because we don’t really meet him as a person- when we first learn of him, on the very first page, he’s a myth, a story, a framing device. which is fitting, because that’s all the characters know him as. the rest of the world doesn’t know what roger was like as a person or why he did what he did, and so neither do our main characters and neither do we. 

and then we learn, slowly, by following in roger’s steps and meeting the characters who did know him, like rayleigh and whitebeard and garp. and through their testimony and memories, over the course of the story, roger goes from being a faceless myth to being a proper character.

i think this panel, where luffy says he just wants to be the freest person on the seas, might be my favorite luffy panel. if nothing else, it’s definitely one of the ones i think about the most in terms of his characterization. luffy’s been defining himself by his dream since the very start of the story- he’s the man who’s going to be king of the pirates! but it’s only here that we learn what that goal actually means to him, and what he actually really wants. he just wants to be free. 

the tone shift of sabaody really is impeccable. because up until a certain point, everything seems pretty par for the course. the strawhats make some new friends, get into trouble for their sakes, get into a hard fight where they all have to work together but eventually scrape out a win. 

but then kizaru shows up, and another pacifista, and kuma himself, and for the first time in the story luffy says this is a fight they can’t win- 

and then zoro disappears, and all of the audience’s expectations for how this is going to play out get thrown completely out the window. 

it’s not that we haven’t seen luffy upset before this- his fight with usopp in water 7 and merry’s funeral are the two obvious examples that come to mind- but we’ve never, to this point, seen him as crushed as he is at the end of sabaody. it really drives the abrupt tone shift of sabaody home, because we’re used to seeing luffy be generally cheerful, and if not that, at stubbornly determined to power through. but here, he’s just wrecked- and the paramount war saga is just getting started. 

every time i see hancock i’m reminded what a lesbian i am.

i’m talking a lot about character introductions this post, but a lot of really good characters get introduced in the first half of this saga, from the supernovas to rayleigh to jinbe. on that note, i really like hancock’s introduction, for reasons similar to what i said about roger earlier. she’s introduced as a cartoonishly evil one-dimensional bitch, and she leans hard into that characterization for the first half or so of amazon lily.

and then luffy narrowly keeps her and her sisters’ worst fear from being realized, and her facade starts to slip, and we get to know her as- still kind of a bitch, but also a deeply traumatized person who has very valid reasons for being the way she is, and someone who is overall a lot more complicated than she appears at first glance. 

one of my favorite things about luffy is his ability to always, always defy expectations. hancock is dead certain he’ll take her offer of a ship and abandon marguerite and the others, but he doesn’t even hesitate before doing the exact opposite. luffy is always turning people’s worlds upside down.

i have a friend who coined the term “conflict of interest arc” to refer to the arcs where a crewmate is forced to choose between the crew and some obligation or baggage from their past- arlong park for nami, whole cake island for sanji, etc. 

marineford is luffy’s conflict of interest arc- he has to make the choice, here, to prioritize saving ace over reuniting with his crew. where it differs from all other such arcs, then, is that nobody else can come to back him up. he’s well and truly on his own. 

i love how thoroughly expectations get turned on their head with jinbe. for the longest time, all we know about him is that he’s a shichibukai and arlong’s former captain, so given what arlong was like and what the shichibukai encountered thus far have been like, it’s a fair guess to assume he’s pretty awful.

and then we meet him, and he’s ace’s friend, sitting bloody and beaten in the deepest dungeons of impel down for refusing to fight in an unjust war.

bon-chan is really one of the greatest examples of one piece’s stubborn refusal to treat any character as disposable, and oda’s endless ability to find new and interesting ways to fit them into the story. in pretty much any other manga, it would be all but guaranteed that we wouldn’t see a character like bon-chan again after the conclusion of the alabasta saga. here, luffy straight up would not have made it to marineford without him. this is true for mr. 3 too- who would’ve thought his ability to duplicate keys out of wax, established and promptly forgotten some three hundred chapters ago, would be the thing that let luffy free ace on the scaffold?

magellan is a good antagonist. i’m not saying i like him- i don’t particularly- but he’s a great antagonist for a couple reasons, and one of them is that his powers are terrifying. magellan is essentially what might be called in video game terminology an advancing wall of doom- the only viable strategy for dealing with him is to run.

i had more i wanted to say here but it literally kept turning into a rant about one piece’s take on morality no matter how many times i tried to keep it short, so i’ll settle for just saying that magellan is an antagonist but not a villain and i think that’s interesting. 

the absolutely ridiculous, eclectic mix of people that luffy winds up gathering to escape impel down is possibly my favorite part of the whole arc. i just think it’s so fun and so characteristic of him that even when separated from his crew, he winds up attracting the weirdest, most powerful bunch of people around to break out of prison with. 

the relationship between luffy and blackbeard is a really interesting one. it’s been plenty clear for some time that blackbeard is almost certainly going to be luffy’s final opponent to become pirate king, and yet they’ve been mostly running on parallel paths through the world, only occasionally coinciding (such as here and in jaya) and generally seeming pretty unconcerned with each other. it’s a really cool way to handle the built to an eventual showdown, and i really like it. 

this is one of my favorite spreads just for sheer smile factor. i love it so much. i think we should get to see jinbe’s whale shark buddies more often, it’s a crime we haven’t seen them since this. 

[oikirstein]

𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐢𝐭 𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 | 𝐤.𝐭𝐬𝐮𝐤𝐢𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐦𝐚

PAIRING: tsukishima x fem!reader

SYNOPSIS: You’re in your third year at Karasuno High, and have liked Tsukki for all of them, but after finally being in a relationship with him for the past six months, you realize his cold, careless demeanor, which you once fell in love with, was the same reason you were falling out.

CONTAINS: Angst (?)

WORD COUNT: 2,610

A/N: Anyway, this is my first time writing a char x reader one shot, so hopefully it isn't too dreadful to read. I wanted this one to be about Mr. Kei Tsukishima because the phrase “take it back” sounded angsty, and I have a burning hate towards him, so I thought it would be fitting.

Part two here.

Prompt from here.

Six months.

That’s how long you’ve been in a relationship with Kei Tsukishima, but is that how long you’ve practically been in love with him? Of course not. You’ve liked the blonde boy since your first year orientation, when you noticed how much he soared over the other students. Obviously his height wasn’t the only thing you liked about him. You adored the way he cared about his best friend, Yamaguchi. You found it hilarious when he picked on the other first years (and occasionally the upperclassmen as well). You were in awe of how he almost glowed at the end of a long game. You grew to love his stone cold face, which he wore so effortlessly and so undeniably well. You were fond of the way he’d get annoyed of his short golden curls tickling his forehead. You were desperately in love with every little thing about him. Who would’ve thought that over these past six months, those things that you found so much comfort in, would’ve also become the exact reason you were in the position you’re in now?

You had the grades, you had the looks, but most importantly, you had the boy. What more could you ask for?

It was January when Tsukki had seemed to have forgotten to walk you home—which you thought was strange since he’s walked home with you everyday for the past year and a half—but you made the excuse nonetheless. 

Maybe he’s just running a bit late. Maybe practice was taking longer than expected. Maybe he just lost track of time. Maybe—

Excuse upon excuse was running through your head as you sat outside the gym waiting for him, like you did every day you were together. You always asked him why you couldn’t just wait for him inside so you weren’t vulnerable to the elements (and so you could watch him practice).

“You’d only be a distraction,” is what he always said before walking away and leaving you all alone beyond the gym doors.

A forced smile spread across your face as you shrugged your shoulders and turned on your heels to sit on the bench near the vending machines. You wondered why he was so distant with you—no—you longed for a real answer. Was he trying to hide something within those concrete walls? You knew Tsukki had secrets that he kept from you, hell he hardly ever talked about the things that weren’t secrets, but to say you were shocked when you found out the secret he was keeping was you, was an understatement. Because that day, that special winter day, was the day the sky decided cry.

Your legs moved before your brain could think, and suddenly you were running towards the gym’s entrance, seeking refuge from the rain. The sounds of sneakers squeaking against the laminated hardwood floors, the echoes of volleyballs ricocheting off of walls and hands, the murmurs of huffing and puffing coming from the athlete’s chests—they all came to a halt as they stared at the girl who just interrupted their practice.

“Can we help you?” their captain, Yamaguchi, said with a smile and both hands resting on his hips.

“Oh um sorry. I was waiting for Tsukki outside and it started raining so I kind of just ran in here without thinking,” you giggled to hide your nervousness, but your shaky tone was still apparent.

“Tsukki?” Yamaguchi questioned.

“Yeah...” you trailed off thinking of what to possibly say. Tsukki wouldn't be very happy if he found out that you actually came into the gym and showed yourself in front of his teammates, but then again it’s not like he ever got upset about anything, “it’s just that me and my boyfriend usually walk home together and he still hasn’t come out.”

If according to routine, Tsukki typically would’ve been done with practice about two hours ago. At this time, It would usually be just Yamaguchi left alone with the first years, as he liked to spend extra time working with them and their skills.

“B-boyfriend?” the green haired boy almost couldn’t contain his laughter in his reply.

“Yes...” you tried to laugh with him, but the awkward tension in the air kept getting thicker and thicker.

“I’m sorry,” he chuckled, “it’s just that Tsukki’s never told us he had a girlfriend, or even liked anyone before.”

Oh. So that’s why he wanted to keep you out of the gym.

“Say, how long have you two been dating now?”

“A little over six months.”

His expression went a complete 180. What was once the look of light, friendly banter, was now riddled with fear, shock and a jaw nearly touching the floor.

“Oh my god,” Yamaguchi looked as if an apology was on the tip of his tongue, but before he could get the chance, you opened your mouth.

“Uh well since Tsukishima obviously isn’t here, I’ll just walk home myself. Thanks for the help Yamaguchi,” you hurriedly replied, one foot already out the door.

Step after step, the time it took between your strides became shorter and shorter, as you broke into a run, making your way towards home. Why would he keep you a secret from them? Why is he always so cold? Why does he always push you away? Why does he always tease you with that same monotone voice? Why did he not love you? 

You stopped mid-step as you took in your surroundings. You knew exactly where you were. This was the intersection where you and Tsukki would part ways. You debated: left or right? My house or his? Where should I go? 

You took a minute to think about which direction to take, when suddenly your phone rang. Pins and needles ran through your skin and a chill went down your spine as you read the caller ID.

“Tsukki”

You stared at the phone in shock, eyes wide, mouth agape, and skin turning paler by the second. He never called you first, so why start now? Ah. That’s right. Yamaguchi probably told him what happened.

“Hello?” you practically almost whispered.

“You went inside the gym today?”

“Uhm yes?”

“Why do you sound like you’re not sure,” his words said one thing, but his tone said another. Like he was trapped trying to scream in a place where the volume was muffled.

“Yes,” you said, more stern this time. Today was the day you were going to get answers.

“Why?”

“Take a fucking guess, Tsukki.”

Silence.

“I was waiting for you. Outside the gym. For four fucking hours,” you all but yelled into the phone.

“You could’ve just stayed outside.”

“Are you blind, four-eyes? Did you forget your glasses or something? Its raining!”

“Y/n,” he didn’t say your name often, maybe that's why it always had you so weak in the knees, “where are you right now?”

“Why?”

“Well you sound upset and it seems noisy in the background,” maybe he actually did care about you?

“The intersection.”

“Theres thousands of intersections in Miyagi, Y/N, try being a little more specific,” there it was, the passive aggressiveness he was so good at using.

“I know that, dumbass,” annoyance dripping from your lips, you tried getting across to him that you were fed up with his attitude, “the one where we always split up.”

“K,” was the only thing he uttered before you heard the dial tone.

Could he be on his way here? Did he want to talk to you? Did he want to see you?

One ounce of you. All it took was one ounce, one sliver of hope, for you to be waiting out here in the rain, not entirely sure if Tsukki was going to show up or not. You made a deal with yourself: if he wasn't here in the next fifteen minutes, you were leaving, and the two of you would be over. Right then and there, you hadn't realized that one of those things would have been inevitable anyway.

Five. Ten. Fourteen.

You cautiously watched the clock on your phone as your anxiety grew more and more intense with every passing minute.

There it was. Fifteen.

Some part of you must have known he wasn’t coming, because when the clock struck exactly fifteen minutes, you did not hesitate to get up and take the right to finally go home.

As you turned the corner, you heard the faint tap, splash, tap, splash, tap, splash, coming from behind, growing louder and louder the closer it got. You thought it was just a dog, or maybe some sweet, innocent child playing in the rain. Then you heard the volume of a voice you never thought you'd hear.

“Y/N!” Tsukki cried while running towards you, “Wait!”

You did not stop. You did not wait. Your steps did not waiver the way your breath hitched at the sound of your name. You continued on as if nothing was said at all.

Though this plan of yours didn’t work as you had forgotten one important factor: Tsukishima was an athlete. You forgot how fast he could run if he really wanted to...but maybe you wanted him to run after you? This was all you wished for after all. For once you wanted him to understand how it felt to chase after someone with no requiting in sight.

You didn't stop walking until you felt a heavy hand on your shoulder and an audible exhale against the nape of your neck.

“Why are you running away from me? I know you heard me,” he said, his monotone tone of voice almost slipping...was he...pleading?

You hadn’t turned around yet when you spoke, “You have some nerve asking me that,” you all but spat.

“W-what?” Oh so now he was stuttering? Was this even the same Tsukishima you fell in love with all those months ago?

You turned around so fast, you could have sworn he winced when his arm was violently whipped to the side.

“Isn’t that all you’ve been doing for the past six months?” You raised your voice—something you’ve never done in front of him before—but little did you know that this day was going to be full of firsts for you two, “Just look at today. You forgot about me. You didn’t tell your team about me. You barely even talk to me.”

“Wait, that’s not true—”

“Is it not? Your best friend didn't even know that you had a girlfriend,” you cut him off.

“Well if you would just shut the fuck up and let me explain you would know why I did all of that!” 

What a terribly heartbreaking sight: to see two young lovers yelling at each other in the rain. Tsukishima grabbed your wrist and turned around, making an effort to start walking in the opposite direction.

“Just follow me,” he sighed, putting his headphones on and dragging you along behind him.

You were tired—exhausted really. It was draining to be the only one putting in effort to stay together. You genuinely believed that if you stopped initiating, the two of you would fall apart. That’s probably the reason why only a mere whisper could be heard from your lips.

“Do you even like me?”

With the sound of the rain’s relentless smacking of the puddles on the floor and the music coming from Tsukki’s headphones, he wasn’t entirely sure if he heard you correctly, or if you had really said anything at all. Still, although his pace never faltered, he still felt a pang in his heart from your supposed words.

You used your free hand to ever so lightly tug on the hem of his shirt, and that’s when he realized you truly did utter those broken hearted words. It was like he nearly came undone at your touch.

“What?” he said as he slowly lowered his headphones to rest on his shoulders.

“I know you heard what I said,” suddenly the sky wasn’t the only thing crying that day, but unlike the heavens above, your tears were warm, livid, and came slowly down your face—inaudible to the human ear.

“Y/N—”

“It’s a simple yes or no answer, Tsukishima,” you said this despite already knowing the answer. He was either going to tell the truth or lie.

“Yes.”

He lied.

It was true: you had the grades and you had the looks, but life could not grant you the boy.

“Let’s,” your voice almost broke at the thought, but you kept yourself together for just a little longer, “break up.”

Tsukki swore his heart stopped beating for a second. Surely you weren’t serious.

“W-what? Why?” His voice was shaky and panicky—two things you wouldn’t dare associate with him.

“You’re smart! Do you need me to spell it out for you?” You looked up at him, eyes glossy from oceans spilling out of your lash line, and the sound of defeat flowing out of your throat. “I’m so tired of this whole relationship being one sided! Do you want me to start coughing up rose petals for you until I can’t breathe? Because surely I’m getting there.”

“Do you seriously think I don’t like you? I wouldn’t be standing here if I didn't care for you,” he half-screamed. Tsukki was offended that you’d doubt him, but he was the one who gave you every reason to.

“For the first time in six months—six fucking months—you came for me. Where was this attitude yesterday? Or the week before? Or months ago? The fact of the matter is,” you took a deep breath as to not unravel right then and there, “your heart is the one thing that will never be mine.”

You turned away from him and whispered, “So let’s just end this here, before any of us—before I—get hurt,” and you walked away. It wasn’t until you were out of earshot when Tsukki’s heart wrenching three words slipped from his mouth.

“Take it back,” he held his hand out for you, watching as your petite frame got smaller and smaller with every stride.

When you disappeared from view, he slowly turned around and slumped in his step. He went back home and dropped to his knees when he opened the door to the reminder of your absent presence. 

Why had he left early?

He planned a special surprise for you at his house for your six month anniversary. A banner, chocolates, roses, teddy bears, and all of your favorite movies. It took him all of six months to build up the courage to do something as heart warming as this—but unfortunately, he was six months too late.

Why was he so cold?

He knew that’s why you caught feelings for him. You told him all about how you fell in love with his distant demeanor. How you thought it was cute when he cringed at people trying to make conversation with him. He never changed because he thought that's what you wanted. After all, that is the reason you liked him, wasn’t it? Maybe he was just too inexperienced to recognized what you truly wanted—no—what you truly needed.

You see, Tsukishima was the type to love in silence, the way you did all those years ago. He left you love letters in your shoe locker, the ones you assumed to be from random secret admirers. He’d leave practice thirty minutes early so you wouldn’t have to wait for him too long. He’d make sure to shut anyone up who dared speak a single negative thing about you, because he too, was in awe of every single aspect you had to give.

Neither of you could have predicted that that unassuming day six months ago was truly the beginning of the end.

© all content [unless stated otherwise] belongs to oikirstein 2020. do not modify or repost.

reblogs are greatly appreciated :)

[everwitch-magiks]

dance with somebody (ch. 26/26)

start from ch. 1 | back to ch. 25

Throughout his five years in professional hockey, Connor Whisk has been called a great many things.

During his rookie season with the Pittsburgh Penguins, the adjective most frequently used by ESPN was promising. (Editor’s note: we’ve counted. Yes, we’re nerds.) However, soon after Whisk’s abrupt trade to the newly minted Seattle Kraken, sensational and unprecedented quickly started climbing the charts. It truly seemed like Whisk had found himself perfectly at home as a rising star on a young and fiercely untamed NHL expansion team, full of players with nothing to lose, yet so much to prove.

At least, that was the way things appeared.

Whisk suggests meeting at a quiet coffee place in Pioneer Square. He’s already waiting outside when I arrive (and it should be noted that I'm at least ten minutes early). Whisk's handshake is firm, his shirt is completely lacking in wrinkles without a single button undone, and there's something carefully proper in his manners as we exchange pleasantries and order coffee.

We don't have an abundance of time, which is why I get right into it almost before we're seated. What’s his opinion on the current standings? If the Kraken do make the playoffs again, like most experts have assumed, what will be their strategy for staying in the game longer, this time? And what’s changed for the Kraken, during these last couple of seasons, that have enabled them to become such a force to be reckoned with so soon after the team’s very foundation?

Whisk, who isn't necessarily known for taking pleasure in excessive attention from the media, seems surprisingly at ease with my onslaught of questions.

“We’ve worked really hard as a team to get to this point, slowly but surely. It may look like a sudden breakthrough from an outside perspective, I guess, but that’s very far from how we’ve experienced it. Although, I’ll be the first to admit that those first couple of seasons in Seattle were tough. Extremely tough. We were fighting so hard every single day, trying to get some semblance of proper teamwork, trying to get our plays to work, get anything to work, really. A lot of the guys were rookies, and many of us who weren’t had been pretty shocked by our trades. We did alright, for a new team, but we all knew that we should be doing better. That was the thing, really – we all felt that we could be so much more. Maybe, if we had believed that a little bit less, things might not have felt so hopeless at the time.”

Whisk speaks with a familiarly serious expression. Some of my fellow sports journalists have pronounced him subdued, and stiff, and on one memorable occasion, unemotional. Yet as we continue to chat about his teammates over a second cup of coffee, and Whisk goes into detail about what the Kraken’s recent achievements have meant for each of them, those descriptors couldn’t be further from the picture Whisk paints. Connor Whisk is clearly compassionate. Effortlessly earnest. Irresistibly determined.

"Last season, when we made it to the playoffs for the first time, that was such an important milestone. It proved to us that we’d had it right, all along. That as a team, we could be capable of anything. And I think, especially for the older guys who’d uprooted the lives of their families after their trades, getting that recognition from the whole league was so important. It’s definitely helped us feel like we have every reason to go into each game with that much more confidence, this season. Our plays are bigger, bolder and braver, and it’s really been paying off. This year, the goal is to make sure that energy lasts us not only all the way to the playoffs, but much further beyond.”

Whisk speaks about his teammates with both respect and compassion. It’s really quite obvious just how he's earned himself the title of Assistant Captain. And on the subject of leadership – is there any truth to the retirement rumours surrounding the Kraken’s current Captain, Donald “Ducky” Rodriguez? And would Connor Whisk agree with the consensus among both supporters and sports media, that he is practically guaranteed to inherit the title?

It's the first time since the start of our conversation that I find a certain amount of evasiveness in Whisk's answer.

"It's difficult to say. Every player has their own journey, and I can't speak for Ducky when it comes to his thoughts on possible retirement. As for my own feelings on the subject, I'd prefer it if Ducky just stayed in the game forever." Whisk laughs. "Really, I would. Ducky probably wouldn't have described his trade from the Aeros to the Kraken as the best thing that ever happened to him, back when it all went down, but it was honestly one of the best things that could've happened to me. I had looked up to Ducky for a long time, and having such an experienced player join us made an enormous difference for a lot of us who were relatively new to the game. We've had a great run together in Seattle, and I know Ducky has talked at length about how rewarding it's been for him to captain this team, especially at this point in his career. And honestly, I can't even really think about what might happen after his eventual retirement. I just can't. I guess I'm just trying to focus on the now, one game at a time, until the end of this season. That's as far as I'm allowing myself to think."

Of course, on the subject of the Houston Aeros, I must ask about the rumour that seems to circle back around every so often without ever being properly addressed. It's time we all knew, once and for all. Did Connor Whisk, during his time as a free agent, really decline an offer from the Houston Aeros? If so, when? And, perhaps most importantly, why?

"No, I did." Avid Aeros supporters will be pleased to know that Whisk has the decency to look quite apologetic. "It was during my time in the NCAA. I found it a very interesting offer, but ultimately, it just wasn't the right time for me. I'm sure it would've been a journey that was rewarding in other ways than the path I'm on, now. But sometimes, you've got to go with your heart, and my heart was very much still in Massachusetts with the Samwell team. I was very lucky to be able to make that decision and still have such great opportunities to play professionally after graduation. That was never something I took for granted, when I made that call."

Before we run out of coffee, and more importantly out of time, I remember to ask about Whisk’s tattoos. As frequent readers of Sports Illustrated will be well aware, he has two, both on his upper right arm. According to my quite extensive knowledge of Whisk’s frankly limited media appearances, he has never once commented on them.

Evidently, they're not some big secret. Whisk readily rolls up his sleeve.

“The first one, got your back, is a saying from my college hockey team. It’s about always looking out for your teammates on and off the ice. My time on the Samwell team really meant a lot to me, I was fortunate enough to play alongside incredible NCAA players like Eric Bittle, Will Poindexter and Nathan Piper. I learned so much, both about hockey and about myself. A lot of the guys actually got the exact same tattoo at some point, without any of us really talking about it. It caused a bit of unintended comedy at our last reunion.”

The second tattoo, know where we stand, is placed just a few inches below the first.

“That one is more personal. It's about having trust and faith in those I love, about making sure they always know how much they mean to me. I'm a somewhat private person, I guess, but anyone close to me could tell you that it's very important for me to make sure that my feelings are known.”

Private is certainly a word that comes to mind. Whisk doesn't agree to many interviews, and his fans have long given up hope of getting more than one or two TV appearances per season, post-game interviews not included. He's on Twitter, as is the whole Kraken rooster, but his activity is mostly limited to retweets of various sports accounts. His instagram feed? Almost exclusively pictures of his aquarium.

At the mention of aquatic creatures, Whisk’s expression brightens.

“My housemate actually took this amazing picture of our axolotl a while back, I have to show you. Look at this magnificent queen.”

Somewhere between several anecdotes about Whisk’s certifiably adorable pets, and a tangent about his commitment to supporting organisations working towards marine conservation, we do finally run out of time. As we say our goodbyes, I’m reminded once again of Whisk’s polite, proper manners, a stark contrast to his somewhat unfeeling reputation. But if one thing’s for certain, it’s that Connor Whisk is anything but unfeeling. He’s reserved, yes, and perhaps somewhat reluctant to put his innermost thoughts and feelings on display. But he’s certainly an impressively focused athlete, one who has proven time and time again to have an admirable commitment to supporting his teammates, on and off the ice.

I can only imagine the regret that must be felt over in Pittsburgh. Seattle, meanwhile, has every reason to celebrate. It’s really something, given how much Whisk has already achieved, that he still gives off the energy of someone who’s got so far to go. The question is, just how far is that going to get him, in the end?

Will he be remembered only as a key factor in the foundation of Seattle’s so-far successful expansion endeavour, or could he be a true star player in the making, one on the verge of creating a legacy that will last well beyond a time and a place?

Only time will tell.

    Whiskey lets the door fall shut behind him. He takes a deep, steadying breath.

There’s a familiar suitcase that’s been left right in the hallway. Whiskey quickly toes off his shoes and walks past it. Ah, there’s a t-shirt. And a bit further, a pair of jeans. Then socks.

Whiskey follows the enticing trail of clothes into the living room. He passes by the mantelpiece, where his Samwell Men's Hockey Captain's plaque sits right in the center, with his Art Ross Trophy from last season over on the side.

Out in the kitchen, he finds a pair of boxer briefs. The double doors out to the patio are wide open. Whiskey eagerly steps through them, his feet quickly carrying him across the patio, over to-

Yes.

Oh, yes. Finally.

Miguel breaks through the surface of the water just as Whiskey makes it to the side of the pool. Immediately, Miguel offers him a wide smile. He looks so perfectly relaxed, back in his pool, in their home. In the nude.

God, he’s so beautiful.

“Water’s warm,” Miguel greets him softly. He trails his fingertips across the surface of it, almost like he’s reacquainting himself with how it feels. “Much more pleasant than the Atlantic, let me tell you.”

“I’ll take that as an invitation.”

“Oh, please. Come here.” Miguel’s tone turns impatient as Whiskey pulls off his shirt, only to take a moment to fold it. “Fuck, just, come here. I’ve missed you.”

“I’ve missed you too. So much.”

Whiskey willingly abandons his attempts to keep his clothes from getting wrinkles. He makes quick work of his pants and underwear, before he lets himself slip into the water. Immediately, he gathers Miguel up in his arms.

It’s not a languid kiss, by any means. Being separated for eight fucking weeks will do that to you. Miguel kisses Whiskey like he’s been trying to breathe underwater for months, like Whiskey is his fresh gulp of oxygen, his moment of clarity. He kisses Whiskey like Whiskey is his very reason for breathing.

Which is almost funny, given that Miguel has been doing quite a bit of breathing underwater, lately.

“Did you get bulkier?” Miguel murmurs against Whiskey's bare skin. He’s trailing his fingertips along Whiskey’s forearms. “You’re kinda firm, here. I like it.”

“Maybe a little.”

Whiskey kisses the top of his head. He lets his hands travel lower, let's his fingertips glide across Miguel's ribcage over the ink that matches Whiskey's own, four little words with so much meaning. He grins as he reaches Miguel's ass and let's his hands come to an abrupt stop. God, it's been much too long.

“S'okay. You're here, now.” Miguel shivers pleasantly from Whiskey’s touches. “Practice run over?”

“No, Angela called me in. She needed me to sign off on the final draft of that article.”

“Sports Illustrated?” Miguel recalls curiously. “How bad was it?”

“Actually, it was… Fine.” Whiskey thinks back on the feature. “Better than I expected. There’s even a couple of paragraphs where that reporter’s made me sound, I don't know. Oddly sweet.”

“You are sweet.” Miguel smiles fondly. “Is it really so bad, if people find out?”

“I suppose not,” Whiskey agrees reluctantly. He lets himself give Miguel's ass another indulgent squeeze. “And they actually included my off-hand mention of my housemate, this time. So that’s something.”

“Good job,” Miguel says with a flushed grin. “Angela must be so pleased.”

Angela Johanson, PR and communications officer for the Seattle Kraken, had indeed been extremely pleased.

Her strategy had really worked for them, so far, which was why Whiskey wasn’t too inclined to argue with it. “If you want to hide anything from those vultures in the media,” Angela had told him during one of his earliest PR briefings, “You’ve got to do it in plain sight.”

Of course, there had been other parts of Angela’s PR strategies that Whiskey had found himself arguing with. Especially during their very first conversation with one another, before he’d had the chance to inform anyone in Seattle of his situation.

It had been right after the trade – hours after, literally. Whiskey was still in Pittsburgh, both physically and mentally. And, fine, Whiskey had maybe already started to realise that Pittsburgh wasn’t completely right for him. It was a very good team, but they were so swamped with talent, and maybe fighting his way to the top of that rooster should’ve been an exciting, motivating challenge, but it wasn’t. It just wasn’t. Whiskey had spent his whole rookie year feeling like he was working against his own team. He had known there was a fair chance that he would get traded. He wasn’t even entirely opposed to the idea.

But Seattle? The Kraken? A team that, for all intents and purposes, didn’t even so much as exist, yet?

“We’re rolling out a whole media package,” Angela had informed him over the phone – as soon as Whiskey’s very first chit-chat with management was over, they’d switched him right over to PR. “There is an enormous amount of buzz right now, given that you guys are the very first players we’re signing. I’ve got some talking points to go over, and then you’re going live on channel four tonight at-”

“Hold on,” Whiskey had cut in. “It’s, I’m not… I don’t usually do many interviews.”

“Oh, you will now.” Angela actually had the audacity to sound cheerful. “We’re right in the middle of establishing our whole brand, and profiling our players in the media is an incredibly important part of that. I’m sure you’ll do just fine.”

“I’m not too interested in being a… A media profile.” Whiskey had tried his best not to panic completely. Really, he had. “I don’t… I’m fairly protective of my private life.”

“Well. You’ll certainly need to share the overall gist of it.” Angela had sounded almost confused. “We need you to be approachable, Connor. Likeable. You’re young, and very handsome, and incredibly talented. We’ve been hoping to have a broad interest in this franchise, all different age groups and so on, and right now, you’re looking a lot like our best bet to attract some real interest from young girls and women. We’re not going to miss that chance.”

“Look," Whiskey had told her flatly. "I’m going to tell you something in confidence, alright? In confidence. This needs to stay between you and me.”

“Okay? Connor, I’m not sure if-”

“I have a boyfriend.”

Angela had been quiet for well over five seconds.

“Oh,” she’d said. To her credit, there had been something like embarrassment in her tone. “I see. Of course, that’s not an issue. Not at all. We’ve done a lot of groundwork about the values of this organisation, Connor, and I want you to know that you’re going to be completely safe with us.”

“Right. Thank you.”

“And,” Angela had added, just a bit hopefully. “If you would choose to be open about that, I can assure you that you would have our full support to-”

“No,” Whiskey had interrupted. “No. I’m not going to.”

“Right.” Angela had paused. “Okay. We’d really be prepared to back you up, you know. It might cause a bit of a media frenzy, and earn us some frankly disgusting press, but we’d be ready to take that on.”

“Yes, a media frenzy sure seems like the last thing on your wishlist.” Whiskey hadn’t bothered to keep his anger out of his voice. “In any case, I’m not going to cause it for you. I’m extremely protective of my private life, and for very good reason. And I’m not going to go live on channel four, today or any other day.”

“Right, okay," Angela had said quickly. "Okay.”

There was a longer moment of silence.

“I hear you.” Angela’s tone had shifted significantly. Somewhere in the background, Whiskey thought he could hear the sound of papers being shuffled around. “I think… Well, won’t need this anymore. Or that. Hm. Let’s see.”

Whiskey managed something of a breath. He was feeling slightly calmer, although honestly not particularly regretful. Really, he’d be more than prepared to fight the Kraken’s entire PR department, if that’s what it took.

“Look.” Angela had apparently found something to say again. “I’ve seen your tapes, Connor.”

Whiskey frowned slightly.

“Okay?”

“You’re very good.” Angela’s tone was quite careful. “Very, very good. I used to play, you know, back in high school. You’re fast, and you play very smart. I’ve heard the way our head coach talks about your technique, and about your adaptability on the ice. Quite frankly, he won’t shut up about you.”

“Is any of this supposed to make me like you better?”

“That’d be nice,” Angela had said calmly, and okay, she was certainly brave. Whiskey had to give her that. “Most importantly, though, you should take me seriously when I say that we’re fully expecting you to be one of the faces of this franchise.”

“On the ice, sure, but that doesn’t-”

“And,” Angela cut in, “That means the media is going to be all over you. Even if you won’t let us schedule you for appearances, they’re going to find something to write about anyway. Really, I’m sure they’d be thrilled to publish all sorts of assumptions and speculation, especially if there’s nothing else out there to contradict them.”

Whiskey wasn’t sure what to say to that.

Angela actually had a point, was the thing.

“I understand the need to keep your professional and private lives separate,” Angela had continued. “And, Connor, I’d really like to help you with that. Because you’re going to need help. If we could work together and figure out a level of public visibility that you could actually be comfortable with, that would definitely keep a lot of so-called journalists from spinning a narrative that we have no control over.”

“Right.” Whiskey hadn’t needed to hesitate much longer. “I understand that. Honestly, I’ve seen the way certain publications go after some of our big names here in Pittsburgh. I’d hate to face something like that without a solid plan for how to handle it.”

“We don’t want you to feel like you’re facing anything on your own, or without a plan.” Angela had sounded quite hopeful once more. “Connor, I… I’m sorry if I came on too strong, just now, and demanded too much from you. We’re genuinely thrilled that you will be joining us in Seattle. I hope that you and I can figure out a media strategy that actually works for you."

“That sounds good.” Surprisingly, Whiskey actually meant it. “I, uh. This is all extremely important to me. I appreciate that you’re making an effort to see my perspective.”

“Of course.” Angela’s tone had been warm. “My job is ultimately about supporting you, you know.”

“Well.” Whiskey had actually smiled. “I suppose I’m glad to have you on the team, then.”

“That’s my line, isn’t it?” Angela had chirped pleasantly. “So. I’m cancelling with channel four. Let’s talk about alternatives for how to make your first impression.”

Whiskey hadn’t quite understood, back then, just how invaluable Angela was going to prove herself during his time in Seattle.

He also would never have guessed that, over a series of meetings where the two of them had drafted contingency plans for various hypothetical scenarios of Whiskey being outed, as well as quite a few bottles of increasingly expensive red wine, he and Angela would actually end up with something not entirely unlike a friendship.

"Angela says hi, by the way," Whiskey tells Miguel presently. They've made it out of the water – except, Miguel's already dived back in. Whiskey has sat himself down on the edge of the pool, content to stick his feet in and just watch Miguel. "She practically demanded that we have her over for dinner, this weekend, when I mentioned you were coming back home."

"Oh, I'd love to see Angela." Miguel dips beneath the surface, just briefly. "You could make those dark chocolate brownies for dessert."

Whiskey smiles.

"You've missed my desserts."

"Come on, try again." Miguel grins. "You're so close."

"Ah. You've missed my chocolate desserts."

Miguel rolls his eyes. He disappears back underwater with a playful splash.

Whiskey smiles softly as he watches Miguel swim down, down towards the bottom of the pool. He still remembers the first time Miguel took him swimming, remembers how his breath hitched at the sight of Miguel moving in the water, his lithe, flexible body completely in control. It was, and honestly still is, the most beautiful thing Whiskey has ever seen.

There's a picture of the two of them that hangs framed in their bedroom. It was taken the summer before last, during a trip they took to see Miguel's family. Miguel is looking at the camera, and his smile is the one that Whiskey loves the most – it's soft and warm and just so lovely. His brown eyes are wonderfully bright in the sunlight. He looks beautiful, and full of life and love. He looks perfect.

In the picture, Whiskey isn't looking at the camera. Instead, he is looking at Miguel. He's smiling, too, and although his smile isn't anywhere near as radiant as Miguel's, it's definitely gentle and content. He looks happy.

They both look happy.

The picture sometimes makes Whiskey wonder what others see, when they look at the two of them. Miguel, so full of energy and life, always bright with excitement and emotion, easily allowing his feelings to flow freely in any direction like a rippling, playful wave, his world a whole sea of excitement. And next to him, Whiskey. So purposeful, and focused, and bold. Always serious and earnest, making every decision with exact precision like he's carving his whole world out of ice.

And yet they come together so perfectly, almost as if they were always meant to find one another.

Miguel breaks through the surface again, with a bigger splash this time.

"I almost forgot," he says, a little breathlessly. "Whiskey. I do actually use Twitter, you know."

Whiskey frowns slightly.

"I don't."

"And as much as I love you, you're not the only account on there." Miguel rolls his eyes. "You Can Play made a pretty interesting announcement, today. Did you see it?"

Ah. Quickly, Whiskey looks away.

"They've received another one of those big donations," Miguel continues. He sounds delighted. "And still no sender, can you believe it? Funny, how this always happens right after you win another big game."

Whiskey ducks his head, grinning. It's only happened a handful of times, that Whiskey has managed to quietly donate a few thousand dollars to You Can Play without Miguel connecting the dots. Ever since that first time, when You Can Play had announced their deepest gratitude to an anonymous donor the very same week that Whiskey had received his signing bonus, and Miguel had immediately texted Whiskey a string of cash emojis and a question mark, it's become something of a game between them.

"Fine. You win this time."

"I win every time." Miguel grins, too. "I guess I should just be grateful that you haven't splurged too much on another ridiculous welcome-home present. I'm still getting over the shock from last time."

"You love the pool," Whiskey reminds him softly. He clears his throat. "I, uh. I might actually have gotten you something."

Miguel stills.

"Please tell me it's something that fits inside the house, this time."

"Well..." Whiskey knows that it's better if he just sticks to his plan of showing Miguel, when he gets the chance. They've been making loose plans for a trip to Boston, anyhow, and Miguel definitely won't mind going back to the New England Aquarium. Especially when he finds out that they'll be attending the opening ceremony for the aquarium's new, privately funded manatee conservation program. "It's not really something you can take home. But I know you're going to love it."

"Okay, mister." Miguel looks a little bit weary. "God, you've got that look in your eyes. I'm getting nervous."

"You'll love it," Whiskey repeats firmly. He smiles. "And, uh, speaking of love. We got a letter from Dex and Nursey, yesterday."

Miguel's eyebrows shoot up.

"A letter? Don't you guys text, like, a lot?"

"They've finally set a date."

"Oh," Miguel exclaims. His smile widens. "Oh, that is so exciting! We're going to a wedding!"

"We are, yeah." Whiskey smiles, too. "I haven't RSVP'd, yet, but…"

"No, no, of course we're going." Miguel is still beaming. "Wow. Wow. Do you know what colors they're doing? Ooh, and what's their venue?"

"I don't… We can read their invitation together." Whiskey watches Miguel for a moment. "You like weddings."

Miguel pauses briefly.

"I like seeing our friends happy." He smiles. "Whiskey, you know that I don't expect… I've never really thought that I would be married."

"Me neither." Whiskey isn't quite sure how to phrase his next question. "But, just because you didn't think it was in the cards… I mean. That's not necessarily the same thing as, you know. As not wanting to?"

"I guess not," Miguel agrees easily. Still, he shakes his head. "Honestly, it's really not something I've ever dreamed of, the way some people do. My choice of career was always going to be a big commitment for me, one that would certainly make things complicated in the romance department. But then you came along, and we've managed to build this life together, and it's just… It's so perfect. I don't need anything more."

"I know." Whiskey returns his smile. "I love the life we've built together, too. But, I'm just… Well. Actually. I've been thinking."

Slowly, Miguel's expression shifts.

"You have?"

"It's not…" Whiskey begins, only to pause. He needs to get this right. "It's something I'm still thinking about. I don't have all the right answers, yet."

"Okay." Miguel tilts his head. "Whiskey, did… Did something happen? To make you question yourself?"

Whiskey's smile softens. It's really something, how Miguel knows him so well.

"Kind of," he admits. "You know I went home, recently?"

"Yeah. For a funeral, right?"

"Exactly. My one of my uncles passed."

"Right." Miguel is nodding, even though his expression is somewhat confused. "I don't… You said you two weren't very close?"

"No, we weren't," Whiskey agrees. "But still, I… It got me thinking."

"About marriage?"

"About death." Whiskey almost smiles when Miguel's eyebrows shoot up. "I promise this isn't constantly on my mind, okay? It's just something I've kept coming back to, recently. Something I haven't ever thought about before."

"Okay." Miguel watches him in apparent confusion. "Whiskey, I'm sorry. You've lost me."

Whiskey takes a deep breath.

"When we die, I want them to bury me next to you."

Miguel is quiet for a moment.

"Oh," he says. His tone is careful. "I… Oh."

"And I don't think that would be possible," Whiskey continues. He actually smiles. "Unless… You know."

"Wait. Really?" Miguel actually manages to sound equal parts serious, and reproachful. It's really quite something. "Connor. I may never have dreamed of the perfect proposal, but if this is your idea of one, death might greet you a whole lot sooner than you think."

"No, it's not," Whiskey says quickly. "It's… I haven't finished thinking about this, not yet. I mostly feel like I don't really know what I should want."

"Maybe what you should want isn't the right question." Miguel sounds slightly more calm. He pauses to actually think for a moment. "You know, I'm… I hadn't really thought about that, either. But you… I think you have a point. You really do."

For a moment, they just look at one another.

"Well," Whiskey says lightly. It feels like something significant has shifted between them. It feels big. "I guess we'll see?"

"Yeah." Miguel seems to have found his smile again. "It wouldn't have to be an extravagant affair. You'd hate that."

"I would," Whiskey agrees. "But, at the same time… We wouldn't necessarily need to keep it just between you and me."

"I like that." Miguel tilts his head again. "You know, if… If we did? The world would find out, eventually. When we're gone, if nothing else."

"Yeah. I know."

"I don't know how I feel about that. I'll need some more time." Miguel's tone is unusually thoughtful. "But you would be okay with it?"

"I… I guess." Whiskey pauses for a moment. Suddenly, he remembers everything Angela's told him about the importance of taking control over the narrative. And honestly? Just like always, she has a point. "Except, if that is the path we take, maybe we should actually make sure that we have a say in how this story gets told? Not anytime soon, but, I don't know. At some point down the line."

"Right." Miguel is nodding, even though he still looks quite contemplative. "That's probably not a decision we should rush into."

"There's no need. We can figure it out at whatever pace feels right." Whiskey offers him another smile. "Thank you, by the way."

"For what?"

"For listening to me. For going through all of this with me."

"That's not something you need to thank me for." Miguel's smile softens into the one Whiskey loves best. "It's, you know. Sickness and health, good times and bad times. No matter what we tell the world, we both know that's what this is."

"Yeah," Whiskey agrees softly.

Sometimes, he still can't believe that they got here in the end. He smiles, helplessly.

"That's right. You're exactly right."

[wakaoujisenhime]

Hello! I really fall in love with your blog! Thank you very much for those Vorpal Swords headcanons! Can I ask headcanons about being Rakuzan manager? For example, how she cares about boys and they care about her; how Rakuzan protects her; How she supports them at games. And Akashi likes her. Good luck to your blog!

A/N: Hello there! I’m glad to know that you’re enjoying these, so I hope that this one will be to your liking as well! Also to those who don’t know what a ‘bokken’ is: it’s basically a wooden sword, Japanese swordswomen and men use for training! 

Tags: Akashi x reader ✅  Rakuzan x reader ✅  SFW ✅  fluff ✅  friendship ✅  

image/art source: Zerochan (art by Tousaku) [I sadly couldn't find the corresponding post where they uploaded it, since that artist seems to be inactive atm, but if you happen to stumble upon it, please make sure to tell me!]

━━━━☆ ━━━━☆ ━━━━☆

so first of all how did you even become Rakuzan’s manager?

well you were actually taking care of the team BEFORE Akashi joined the club

back then you guys were a wholesome team, but the moment the redhead was pronounced captain it all went downhill...

your former teammates began dropping out with the same complaints

“He’s too strict”, “I can’t train like this anymore”, “When he’s on the court, basketball loses its fun factor!”

even if you hated to admit it...they were right

Akashi was a REALLY strict leader who always wanted his team members to give it their all

100%? Not enough, make it a 110 and then you might be chosen as a substitute

during the first half of the school year, you put up with everything he threw at you, whether it were insults or commands

at one point you weren’t even the manager anymore but became his loyal puppy that did everything he instructed you to do

the things he requested weren’t even worthy to your title...unless you like standing in front of the gym door, acting like a bodyguard at the disco

and of course, even you had your limits

after Akashi had once again decided to give you an unreasonable task, you finally snapped

“I’ve had enough! Just who do you think you are, ordering me around as if I was your subordinate!”

“Listen. You either fix that emperor like attitude of yours, or you end up losing one of Japan’s strongest team...including me.”

in your state of anger, you had shoved the clipboard you were using against his chest and had stormed off the gym

a whole week had passed and you didn’t visit the club even once, that’s how pissed off you were

one day just when you thought about filling up a club withdrawal paper, there was a letter in your locker

...

Dear (Y/N)...I know that the way I’ve been acting up until now has upset you, but the reasoning behind my behavior is a simple one. All I desire is to see whom of these ‘star players’ everybody (including you) praises, can actually live up to their title. Sadly, I’ve come to the conclusion that none of them were able to, so I’ve decided to build up a new team in which you as well are going to be needed. I sincerely hope that you are willing to help the new Rakuzan basketball club reach even greater heights than ever before. Yours faithfully, Akashi Seijuro

P.S: We need you manager.

...

the first half of the letter had made your blood boil, but the further you read the more your curiosity got peaked

but you didn’t want to give in that easily, so you decided to visit the club one day to see what Akashi’s idea of an absolute basketball team looked like

...

...

“So (Y/N)..what do you think?“, Akashi asked after practice had ended

you had just looked at him with one of your ‘are you kidding me?’ faces and shook your head

these boys...

a) looked like full-fledged men to you

b) could easily snap you in half if they wanted to (especially Nebuya)

and finally

c) were probably all legendary NBA players in their past life

all in all they were amazing

watching them play gave you the impression of an actual and professional basketball game...that’s just how good they were

.

..

...

two months passed and you had taken the role of the manager once again

you hated to admit it, but Akashi was once again right..this team was absolutely amazing and worthy of any title you could think of

luckily these boys turned out to be more wholesome than you had ever anticipated

knowing that all of them had their struggles and own problems to deal with, despite their flawless appearance made you realize that that they were indeed your typical high school boys and not some basketball machines

sadly they couldn’t - or better said - weren’t allowed to show any weakness during training...these were Akashi’s orders

much to your surprise, they had accepted it with much less resistance than the members before them, but you were a little anxious that they might end up quitting the team so you took it upon yourself to prevent that scenario from arriving  

from that day forward you began spending more and more time with all the members (except Akashi) …

.

Reo:

as the vice-captain he was to ensure that everybody followed the training regimen they were given by the redhead (in case of his absence)

sadly due to his laid-back nature and feminine speech, almost no one took him seriously

that’s where you come in…

“Come on now guys! Listen to Reo or I’ll get the bokken! And if that doesn’t get you guys moving then I’m sure a short phone call with Akashi certainly will...”

the second line always worked and even managed to make Reo giggle

after that, he’d always thank you several times and while the others ran laps/were stretching the two of you would always talk about that day’s schedule

by the end of practice, Reo and you would actually go out and do some shopping while talking about different topics

and thanks to his talented eye for the beautiful, your wardrobe was full with clothes that complimented your figure just perfectly, which only boosted your ego      

a certain topic you guys started talking about only recently was romance

at first you were extremely careful to not touch upon any touchy subject since there were a lot of rumors amongst your classmates, concerning Reo’s sexual orientation

but the more you got to know him, the easier it was for you to talk to him and in no time the two of you had become best friends

whenever someone either came up to you or him and wanted to just mess around, the two of you got each other’s backs at all time and would either intervene directly or call for backup (mainly Nebuya)

thanks to Reo’s ‘big sister’ personality you luckily never felt alone or at a loss, since you knew that he’d always be there for you and help you out

Kotarou:

this boy seriously makes you run for your money

he’d always arrive almost half an hour earlier than the others just cause he wants to mess around with you (he’d for example take your clipboard and make you literally chase him for it)

at first it upset you quite a bit, but as time passed you eventually got used to it and evolved your strategy

you chase him?

hell NO

you’d instead sit down on one of the benches and wait for him to bring it back to you

your strategy for that was to remain silent and show no reaction whatsoever whenever he asked if you weren’t going to chase him like the ‘good old times’

he’d then get so worried that he’s upset you that he gives up, brings you your clipboard and starts either poking your cheeks, playing with your hair or straight out embrace you

the latter always broke your façade

his warm hugs accompanied by the glistening puppy eyes and his snaggletooth always made you pity him and wonder if you’ve perhaps gone too far

the moment you’d give in, his cheerful attitude was back in an instant

and that routine became pretty much a daily ritual between the two of you

what perhaps surprised you the most was when you actually witnessed Kotarou’s other side of his bubbly personality

he was surprisingly the ‘holding a grudge’ type (especially on the court)

Rakuzan had a practice match once and when a player of the opposing team made it past the blond boy seconds later he was fuming, glaring at everyone who even looked his way and screamed more as well as louder than usual

the others around you weren’t even faced by his sudden tantrum so it was up to you to calm him down before the referee gave him a yellow card

since then his mood-swings became your responsibility

outside of the gym, you guys spent a good amount of time together

you mostly helped him out with his homework since he really wasn’t the brightest out of the bunch (and as some of you might know in Japan your grades play a major role when you’re a part of a club. Depending on your test results you might get excluded from some of the activities as far as I know) and you weren’t going to leave on any activity without this ball of sunshine

to pay you back for your help he’d go skateboarding with you on the weekend

in case you forgot or couldn’t skate he’d help you remember or teach it to you

much to your surprise, he was quite a good teacher, so it was easy for you to understand the basics and even learn some of the simplest tricks on the way

but in case you were some kind of a pro (or simply good) at it, he’d challenge you to a small contest and by the end of it the two of you would actually come up with a small choreography

Nebuya:

to be frank, he intimidated the heck out of you (at first) and he was actually the most difficult for you to approach

the main reason for your reluctance was mainly because of his appearance, but just a day after you were first introduced to him made you change your mind

on your way to school you took the train and as commonly known the trains in Japan were the majority of the time extremely filled with people and some of them just couldn’t keep their hands by themselves and just had to go ahead and start feeling people up

in that case, the victim was unfortunately you  

the typical reaction of your other female classmates would’ve been to stand there and do nothing about it, but you were different

“Excuse me, but could you stop touching me?“, you asked in a loud voice making sure that at least some people witnessed what was happening

you couldn’t care less if you guys became the center of attention, all you wanted was to get this creep’s hands away from your body...and you did

what you didn’t know/notice was that Nebuya had actually seen all of it and wanted to come and help, but you were quicker

when you got out of the train he caught up to you and directly asked if you were ok

he even went ahead and bowed his head to you apologizing multiple times for not reacting quick enough

it surprised and scared you at the same time, but this was kind of a chance to finally talk to him, so you made sure to not let that opportunity slip away

and trust me when I say this, but this man turned out to be a bigger softie than you anticipated

since that day he became the person you’d call upon first in case of trouble you couldn’t solve on your own

Nebuya even volunteered to be your bodyguard, but you weren’t really a damsel in distress so you refused at first

and after many arguments, pouts and pleas you finally gave in and agreed to go to school together every day

additionally during training he’d make sure to be the first one to save you from any flying ball

much to his dismay, you managed to dodge or even to catch the majority of them which made his attempts completely futile

so in order for him to stop sulking about how he had ‘failed to show you his muscles in action’, you’d go out and help him with his workout

sometimes you’d even be his motivational right hand during his own eating contests

and when he decided to show his ‘manly’ side and either burps or lets out gas, your bokken was on him just some seconds later

Mayuzumi:

this boy seriously hated you in the beginning

in his eyes you were nothing but a loud girl who wanted some attention and tried to gain it by acting as the manager

much to his surprise you figured him out pretty quickly

you somehow knew when he became irritated on the court and immediately took action to prevent any outbursts from him or someone else

furthermore, you supported his hobby without asking questions and when he expressed the wish to go to the rooftop and read a chapter or maybe even two from his light novel, you’d just let him go

one afternoon he came to the gym to excuse himself from training and found only you and how you had fallen asleep on the referee table

his first thought was to leave before you even noticed that he’d been there, but then he saw a small notebook with the title ‘RAKUZAN BB CLUB’ so he got curious and started reading your handwritten entries about all of the members

each member had a few pages worth of information you had either gathered yourself or looked up

he found it a tad adorable that you reserved the last page for a personal comment on a player since it reminded him of how some of his authors wrote an afterword at the end of their story

as soon as he read his name though he suddenly became really reluctant to proceed

for some reason, he was afraid of what you might have written/researched about him

he started to read it anyways

“...”

“Has a low presence...well yeah I guess”

“...”

“Seems to be prouder than he lets on? W-Wha? That’s not even...true”  

“...”

“Probably swears at his teammates internally...how did she know?!”

“...”

“It would make me happy if we talked more to each other, but he probably hates me... ”  

Mayuzumi would’ve never told you, but that last line hurt him quite a bit

.

that day he decided to join practice and when you called for a timeout you’d always leave his towel and water bottle on the bench next to you and he’d normally just take it, but this time he murmured a barely audible ‘thank you’

you almost fainted then and there, but somehow managed to keep up your serious facial expression (which he very much appreciated)

the two of you would almost never go out/spend time together, but instead, you began exchanging small gestures like you buying him a new volume of his favorite author or him hiding a small ‘thank you’ note in your notebook

Akashi (finally):

since you and he know each other from way back, you didn’t have that much contact in the beginning since you wanted to take your time to get to know the new members, but Akashi’s eyes were always on you

if someone out of the other members even dared to ask him if he harbored feelings for you...then let us just pray that he doesn’t have Midorima’s scissors with him

but if one of his main players (most likely Kotarou) asked him about it, he’d just cut him off quickly and shut the conversation down

Rakuzan’s captain cares for you in his own kind of way

he’d support you from afar and make sure that no one who he doesn’t deem as worthy comes even remotely close to you

you weren’t aware, but since you had once again become the manager of the reformed Rakuzan you became quite popular

a lot of people admired you, some were even impressed or jealous and some even began having feelings for you

“I’m thinking about asking (Y/N) out...what do you think?”

as soon as Akashi heard your name in such a conversation he instantly made his move

don’t ask how he did it, but within a week you had gained the reputation of being ‘out of limits’ for everyone except for the club and your friends and just in case someone felt the need to be adventurous, there was no way they’d be let into the gym (thanks to Akashi’s orders and Nebuya’s muscular body)

.

the redhead had first noticed his feelings for you when you snapped at him back then

for him it was the first time someone even dared to speak up against him and even insult him

he was surprised and very annoyed at first, but as the days passed by him and his incomplete team he figured that it would be the best to start anew

so he scouted three of the uncrowned kings and a 3rd-year student who basically was a future version of Kuroko

when the stage was set all he needed was for the main star to appear, so he sent you that letter where he invited you to watch the new team

.

as far as the confession goes...

Akashi is a very strategic person, so he’d most likely wait for his promise to come true (the promise of Rakuzan reaching greater heights) and then confess saying something like:

“See? I’ve kept my promise...now it’s your turn.”      

[emrysaf]

Never Enough Pt. 14

Pain. This is painful. **TRIGGER WARNING: attempted suicide, suicidal thoughts/actions, blood**

Always look to someone for help. The strongest can feel weak. Those who always stay standing can fall. It isn’t weak to ask for help when you need it or even think you need it. You are a vital piece to the world.

--------------------------------------------

@peggycarter-steverogers​ @dottirose​

--------------------------------------------------------------

Just tell me, tell me how to keep this

And I'll be alright

Just tell me, tell me what's the secret

And I'll hold it tight

'Cause I don't want to spend another moment

Without you again

Just tell me, tell me how to keep this

So it never ends

If I were God, just for a day

I would be guilty

Of letting the whole world slip away

I wouldn't change,

No, I wouldn't change a thing

I'd leave the mistakes

I'll take the blame

And I'll use the chance

To keep you just the same

If I were, if I were God just for a day

Don't tell me, tell me how it changes

It's you I can't replace

Don't tell me, tell me that we're hopeless

I can learn from my mistakes

'Cause I don't want to spend another moment

Without you again

♫🎝♫🎝♫🎝♫🎝♫🎝♫🎝♫🎝♫🎝♫

Y/N had been here for three months and hadn’t spoken a syllable. 

She hadn’t spoken one month and a week after she was admitted. When the staff found her looking out the big bay window at four in the morning. She had tears running down her face and her hands clenched so hard blood was dripping from the crescent indents in her palm.

If only the staff had known. They thought she was crying in despair over her situation, and longing to be outside.

Half of that was true. She was in despair, but as vain as it sounds she was looking at her reflection in the window. Not to the outside world. Her. The nasty scar; a beacon to others of her past and present. She had never thought she was all that great to start with, and now she had a sick sense of validation about the branching pattern.

But, yes, if they had noticed what was really going on in her head there would’ve been no doubt about what would come next. 

Two months and twenty-eight days into her psychiatric stay and they found her again. This time it was in front of the shattered remains of a bathroom mirror. Y/N had wrapped her extra psych ward provided shirt around her fist to silence the shattering of glass.

Blood was everywhere. But there were no tears this time. Just anger.

---------------------------------------------------

She had a brief second of cold feet about trying this whole dying thing again and gripped the glass shard too hard. The sharp pinch was painful, but a release as well. Then she went to switch the shard to her other hand and commit to doing the deed, and there it was. The slice to her hand was already healing. Not as fast as when she was at full power, but not an average human’s rate either.

One would think this was a good thing. A sign maybe? Her power was there, somewhere. 

No. Y/N wasn’t happy. She was pissed. Now she heals? After everything. The scar across her whole back and up to her face? She didn’t want her power, without it she was supposed to be human. Easier to die that way. And now her healing factor kicks in.

Fuck this.

So Y/N went to town slashing and tearing into herself where she could reach. But the more damage she did, the faster her healing factor kicked in. 

So when the hospital staff rushed in Y/N barely had any marks on her, but the bathroom looked like a slaughterhouse.

--------------------------------------------

Steve was her proxy and got the news in the middle of that night. Blood, anger, horror. But not even a hint of sound from her. In pain or otherwise. 

Right then and there he decided to have the facility run some more medical tests. He had thought she was being difficult, stubborn. But maybe her lack of speech had more to do with the loss of her powers or something like that?

--------------------------------------------

The hospital agreed to run some blood tests, and double check medical and psych history. To do this they needed her records from the compound doctor, and as they had Y/N medicated to keep her from hurting herself again Steve was able to sign over the documents.

So, Captain America made his way to the hospital to sign the paperwork and be there when the results came through. Once he signed, however, he didn’t have to wait long. Sitting in a rather uncomfortable chair in the too white visitor’s waiting room, Steve was dragged out of his thoughts about the past year by the head doctor.

“Ahem,” he coughed. “Mr. Capt- Mr. Rogers. Can we speak privately?”

Definitely concerned he replied, “Yes, of course.” and followed the salt and pepper haired man to his office.

“Have you-”

“We haven’t done any testing yet,” began the doctor, and he rushed on at the super soldier’s raised brows. “First we were going over the medical and psychological history you signed for. And I just have to ask; why weren’t we told about this? It would have a great effect on her mental well being. She should have had counseling or something with this considering her mental health history.”

“This?” Steve prompted, feeling accused. All he could think of was the man she put in a coma. “She shocked that man too hard, but I didn’t see it as something for counseling. By the time I got there that same day she had already made that first attempt?”

“No, Captain. This loss? The effect it has on women of varying ages.”

“Loss?” Now he was confused and frustrated. Loss? Did the doctor mean her breakup with Bucky? She chose to do that. And why was that in a medical history? “I didn’t think relationships and breakups were in medical files.”

“Break- Wait. You don’t know what I am talking about at all, do you?” questioned the doctor.

“Apparently not. So tell me what you’re beating around the bush about.” demanded Steve. When the doctor hesitated and looked like he was about to refuse Steve pushed on. “I am her proxy. In order to help and assure she gets the best possible care while I am responsible for her I have to be told everything.”

“Well,” began the doctor. “It seems she was deemed incapable of conceiving just a few months before her first incident in New York City. Infertility is a tricky, and painful condemnation to give a person. According to the timeline you provided, she was told this shortly before being sent to the city. . . Alone.”

--------------------------------------------------------

Steve was at a loss. Y/N, why didn’t you tell us? Tell me? What exactly happened?

[libsterslobsters]

The Battle of Evermore

A Bucky Barnes fanfic

Summary: Set during the events of Captain America: Civil War. Bucky and the reader's worst nightmare has come true: they're captured, and there's nothing even Steve Rogers can do... or is there?

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x fem! enhanced! reader

(reader sees shards of the future, can understand every language, and processes information quickly)

Warnings: Violence, angst, fluff, self-loathing, Civil War spoilers, language

Author's note: The female character's name is never given so that this can be read as a self-insert, but at this point, I've written so much about her and Bucky that I've named her Violet. Still working on a last name. If you have any suggestions, comment below.

*************************************************

It’s not exactly unexpected, them having to fight their way out. Steve always hopes for the best, but prepares for the worst, especially when it involves The Winter Soldier, or as he knows him, Bucky Barnes. But still, the last thing he’s expecting when his best friend crashes through the door of an apartment several storeys below is to barely catch (and if it weren’t for his enhanced hearing, it’s guaranteed he would’ve missed it altogether) a woman hiss,

“Buck, what the hell-”

“Get out of here. Now.”

Again, he’s known the guy for years, had him bust up enough back-alley fights in their day, so he knows Bucky tends to have a flare for the dramatic when it comes to any sort of altercation, but it still seems a little overboard, the moves he’s pulling out to kick these hostile’s sorry tails. That is, until he’s out of the building and sees a hooded figure, small enough that his first guess would be female, waiting in a dark corner. That’s when it clicks: a diversion. But how did she manage- She takes off running, cutting his internal questioning short, and when her sweatshirt rides up, he sees a harness around her waist, carabiner still attached, and rope burns on her hands. That answers that.

All thoughts of whoever the strange woman was are pushed aside in the pursuit that follows. In fact, Steve’s almost forgotten about her until they’re being loaded into armored cars like criminals (which, he supposes, they are now), and as they’re leading Bucky away, he freezes on the spot, not budging for a full ten seconds despite his guards doing their best to get him moving again. Steve follows his line of sight to yet another car window, and then he realizes why Bucky suddenly looked so defeated. They got her too.

On the ride back to base, Bucky’s separated from the rest of them, but the woman is thrown in with him, Sam, and T’Challa, since apparently, Rhodey’s decided she’s not a threat. Either that, or he’s hoping being stuck with the men she was trying to escape will rattle her enough that, once they’ve landed, she’ll talk. If Steve had to venture a guess, he’d say that won’t work; if the way she keeps her eyes down and ignores anyone speaking to her wasn’t enough to indicate that she’s not playing ball, his knowledge that her escaping the building wasn’t a matter of chance (no, his bet’s on both of them having prepared for something like this in advance, how else can you account for the diversion and her rappelling down the side of the building) would do the trick. Just before they’re led into the building, he slides past her, and murmurs, “Steve Rogers. Don’t answer their questions. I’ll find you later.” It’s brief, but her eyes flick up to study him, then back down again, and he takes that as acknowledgment.

It’s a lot of hassle, a lot of questions, and a lot of paperwork. He’s half-way expecting to be put in a cell, but after a good two hours, he’s remanded to a room to wait. About an hour later, Sam is escorted in as well. After the routine questions (are you okay, what did you say to them, what did they say to you), Sam finally lands on the immediate issue at hand.

“Cap, who the hell’s the girl?”

“Your guess is as good as mine.”

That’s not entirely true. He’s had a good amount of time to think it over, and he’s narrowed the possibilities down. The first thing he considered was, as unlikely as it seems at first blush, the girl is Bucky’s daughter. Who knows if they’ve sent out the Winter Soldier for things other than assassinations. He could’ve been asked to extract information in ways that don’t include the use of excessive force. Steve almost immediately rules that one out. She doesn’t look enough like him for that possibility. Age wouldn’t necessarily be a factor considering Bucky’s been on and off ice for the past seventy years. Still, the dynamic felt… off, somehow. His bet’s on not related at all.

His second thought is a partner. Someone else who’s escaped Hydra and is now hiding out. Well, considering that she got caught (and if the rope burns are anything to judge from, she’s no expert at quick escapes), that seems unlikely as well. They get along, obviously, and she has to be important, or else he wouldn’t have risked so much to give her time to get away, so possibly a friend. Still, that level of devastation upon seeing her captured? That seems a little more intense than an average acquaintanceship.

That leaves only one possibility; a romantic entanglement. A part of Steve is happy for Bucky. He’s had a whole lot of miserable in his life so far. He deserves to find some joy. Another part of him is rolling it’s eyes at the fact that, even in hiding when he really should be keeping to himself, his best friend managed to find himself in the company of a pretty girl. The biggest part, however, is scared. If this is serious (and all things considered, it’d be foolish to think otherwise), this girl is yet another liability, another complication in vindicating Bucky.

As he’s discussing things with Sharon, he realizes that he can see the feed from the girl’s cell as well as Bucky’s. The volume is turned down low, but if he concentrates, he can hear her.

“Please, if anyone is listening, you have to stop that doctor. He’s not who he says he is!” Steve brushes it off as hysterics. That is, until it dawns on him that she’d have no way of knowing about the doctor interviewing Bucky.

“God! You people! I’ve been hiding from this fucking government since I was eighteen years old! Now that you’ve got me behind bars, the least you could do is listen! I’m telling you, he’s not who he says he is! Don’t let him in the room with Barnes! It’s a mistake! People are going to die!” That makes him wonder…

“Sharon, do you have a file on the girl?”

She shakes her head.

“Not that I know of, but I also haven’t looked. She’s just some random Romanian woman, right?” That’s what he thought, but now he’s not so sure. Her accent… she sounds American. “Couldn’t even get her name out of her. My guess would be that she’s insane. All she’d tell us is that we’re making a big mistake and people are going to die because of it.”

He’s about to say something more, but that’s when the lights are cut.

The battle that follows leaves little time to think of anything other than capturing Bucky before the other side does (oh, and trying to survive themselves), but in the brief lull after they come out of the river, he manages to tell Sam,

“Spring the girl.”

“What? Why?”

“Just do it. I have a hunch.” One that admittedly doesn’t make much sense, but then again, that seems to be the way his life works.

___________________________________________________________________________________

“It was a mistake. I told them so.” Sam’s inclined to believe the same as Sharon when he approaches the high-security cell with a pacing woman inside. “A fucking mistake. And now there’s a bunch of dead people topside and Barnes is who knows where, probably either with a couple bullet holes in him or else a couple bullet holes in the other guys.” She has to be crazy. She’s talking to herself. But how does she know- “I see the damn future, for fuck’s sake!” Well, that explains that.

It seems like she’s worn herself out because, her back against the wall, she slides down slowly to the floor as if her legs have given out from under her.

“I see the future, and I still couldn’t save him.” Great. He’s been sent to extract a homicidal maniac’s fortune-telling girlfriend. Awesome.

“Yeah, well-” She startles, cracking her head on the glass wall. “-unless you want a really bad headache, I’d get against the back wall right now if I were you, because I’m about to bust you out of here.”

“Who are you?” If he blasts the control panel… as a last resort, he could quite literally blow out the wall.

“A friend of Steve Rogers.” Sent to collect her crazy ass. The least she could do is stop glaring at him. “And I meant what I said about that headache. Get back and cover your ears.”

Finally, she moves, but not before shooting back,

“If you’re lying, just be aware that I won’t hesitate to kick you in the family jewels so hard, you’ll sing soprano.” Well, that’s comforting.

For a high-security facility, the locks go down fairly easily. Still, he hesitates before opening the door. “I’ll let you out so long as you promise to keep your hands to yourself and your crazy away from me, deal?”

She snorts.

“Can’t promise anything about the crazy because it comes and goes, but I won’t touch you. Good enough?” Can he really say no?

“Yeah. Whatever.” He allows the door to open, jumping out of the way just in case.

Now that she’s out of her cage, she looks considerably less nuts. Still, he’s not taking any chances.

“Rogers told me to spring you while he rounded up your boyfriend. He’s gone psycho, by the way.” If he was expecting a reaction, he’s disappointed. She just sighs.

“I was afraid of that. They turned a good man into a weapon.” Alright, ignoring the fact that he wouldn’t exactly call Barnes a good man…

“What’s your name?” She just raises an eyebrow.

“I’ll tell you mine when you tell me yours.” Sam doesn’t have time for this.

“Well, whatever your name is, stick close. If I tell you to run, you run. If I tell you to hide, you hide. If I tell you to shut up, you shut up. Got it?” Not waiting for an answer, he starts making his way out of the building.

He’s halfway expecting her to make a break for it the second his back is turned but, five sharp turns and a handful of sudden stops later, she’s still right behind him. Well, at the very least, her crazy hasn’t affected her ability to follow directions.

Trouble finally finds them when they attempt to sneak out the proverbial back door. Sam doesn’t even have a chance to shout at her to hide or run between incapacitating various guards, and by the time he remembers he’s supposed to be looking out for Barnes’ girlfriend, there’s an unconscious man laying by her side and she’s got the business end of a gun turned on another, who’s kneeling in front of her with his hands up.

“Don’t shoot him!” As he says it, her foot makes contact with the man’s chin, and he drops.

“Wasn’t gonna.”

She still hasn’t let go of the weapon. Alright, he needs to defuse this situation as fast as possible (oh, and without getting himself killed).

“You wanna put the gun down, What’s-your-face?”

“Nope. I’m hanging onto it.” As she says it, she checks the bullets. “Don’t worry. I know how to use it.” How is that supposed to keep him from worrying?

“Yeah well, keep it pointed away from me.” Is she rolling her eyes? Great. He’s dealing with an overgrown teenager.

“Safety’s on anyway.” He’s starting to think that between the knocked out cold super soldier and the awake and definitely dangerous crazy lady, he’s wishing he had Steve’s job.

“Come on.”

He only manages to run a few more steps before she asks,

“Where are we going?”

He’s not entirely sure, but he goes with what he’s almost certain will bring her along.

“To Barnes.” Sure enough, she doesn’t say anything else.

___________________________________________________________________________________

Once she arrives at… wherever the hell they are… she’s instructed to wait where she is and keep her mouth shut. Normally she’d inform whoever’s telling her that to stick it directly up their ass, but Bucky warned her time and again about what he could inadvertently do to her if he was activated, and considering Steve Rogers has the same capabilities, she’s not going to chance it. That, and Mr. “Keep your crazy away from me” seems a little testy, even if she does still have her gun (the fact that they haven’t taken it from her says more than enough about how secure they both feel in their ability to overpower her). No, she’ll bide her time. For now, it’s enough that she knows where Barnes is and that he’s mostly okay, if having a long snooze.

Eventually he does come around, and the conversation that follows both chills her to the bone and breaks her heart. He’s matter-of-fact about everything, calmly explaining to Steve and Sam (she finally overhears his name) what they’re up against, what those terrible people have made of him and so many others, but the guilt he feels is clear, at least to her. Alright, that’s it. She’s not going to sit still and be quiet any longer. She’ll just have to be smart about it.

Once Sam steps out to call whoever it is he knows that can help him, she starts to creep forward, slowly, deliberately, careful to avoid making noise. She’s almost there, about to leave the refuge of hiding behind a piece of broken down heavy machinery, when she hears something that makes her stop short.

“Who’s the girl, Buck?” This ought to be interesting. It was necessary to have a conversation about what they would do if one or the other of them was captured at any point in time, have a plan in place, but since this is Steve Rogers, she has no idea what the answer will be.

“Call her a personal attachment.” It’s a good answer. Vague, not giving too much away.

“Yeah, I figured that much out myself. Wanna give me a little more information?”

There’s a long pause, then-

“She’s important. The same way Peggy’s important to you.” That makes no sense to her, but it must appease Steve.

“I’m glad. You deserve that.” She’s definitely missing something here. “What’s her name?” That’s when she chooses to step forward.

They both turn towards her as she gives her name. “You should also know that I only give people one opportunity to tell me what to do. You and Sam already used yours.”

Steve glances back at Bucky, who shrugs, smirking.

“Don’t look at me. I used mine up two years ago.” A wave of relief courses through her. His sense of humor is still there, at least.

Steve nods. “Well, it’s nice to meet you. I still have a question, though.” She indicates that it’s okay. “Are you gonna be as much of a pain in the neck as he is?” A joke, or at least she thinks it is.

“Only if I can’t be a bigger one.” If the laugh is any indication, she was right.

“I have a question too.” This time Bucky’s the one asking as Steve sets about freeing his arm. “Doll, where’d you get the gun?”

She decides to go with the truth, but a lighter version of it.

“A nice guard gave it to me.”

“Oh, he gave it to you, huh?”

She nods, slowly approaching him.

“Yes. It’s amazing how accommodating people can be once you’ve elbowed them in the ribs and kneed them in the groin.”

With a groan of metal, he’s free. As Steve helps him to his feet, he asks,

“What exactly did you teach her?”

“A few things. The rest she’d learned before me.” Yeah, well, you don’t spend your life running and hiding without learning how to defend yourself. Although, from the look of things, the company she’s fallen into could crush her without breaking a sweat.

After exchanging a few more words, Steve excuses himself, leaving her alone with the man she’s been so worried about. The atmosphere immediately changes, all attempts on both of their parts to seem unaffected, strong, gone to the wayside as he opens his arms and she folds herself into them.

“Are you alright? Did I hurt you?”

She shakes her head, not lifting it from where it’s buried in his chest.

“No. I was locked up the whole time. Sam sprang me loose.” She can feel some of the tension leak out of him as he heaves a sigh of relief.

“I shouldn’t have gotten you involved. If you’d stayed-” Not waiting for him to finish his thought, she reaches up and taps the back of his head.

“Shut up. If you’d left without me, you know I’d just have gone to find you and gotten myself into even more trouble.”

He chuckles.

“You do have a way of doing that.”

Neither of them say much for the next few minutes, just concentrating on, in this brief moment, being together. Finally, with a sigh, Bucky separates himself from her and holds her at arm’s length.

“Look at me.”

It’s an abrupt segue, and she frowns.

“I need to make sure this is getting through that pretty and incredibly hard head of yours, because it’s important.” Swallowing down a lump in her throat, she meets his eyes. “If they activate me again, drop any weapons you have, get on your knees, and put your hands up.”

“What-”

“I don’t know much about how all of it works, but I do know that when I’m like that, I’ll ignore you if you don’t present a threat. It’s a shitty solution, but it’s the only way I can think of to half-way make sure you’re safe.” She’s about to protest (he’s with Steve now, whoever that not-a-doctor was is gone, no one’s going to activate him, and even though she knows what he can do, she refuses to be afraid of him), but it’s an old argument, and he cuts her off before she can even get started. “Promise me, Doll. Please.” He’s pleading with her, she realizes. As much as she hates it, the only thing she can do is agree.

“I will, but only if you promise to come back in one piece.” She begs her mind to memorize that smile, every single detail of it, just in case this is their last goodbye.

“It’s a deal.”

___________________________________________________________________________________

He’s drained, utterly and completely. That’s not a way Bucky is used to feeling, but after the past few days and all they’ve held (not to mention going in and out of being the Winter Soldier, never knowing who he’s hurt this time), he has to admit that he’s beat, even if it’s just to himself.

It’s all a blur: captured, activated, back to normal, battle, another battle, and now on a hellicarrier, waiting to go to a small African country he’d never heard of a week ago. If he examines each event closely, he can remember it in full, but why in the hell would he want to do that, especially after the encounter with Stark?

The one bright spot in the maze is that he knows she’s safe, holed up in what used to be a SHIELD safe house (he balked at the idea, as did she, but Steve assured them both that it was abandoned, completely safe), waiting for the all-clear to return to Romania. He’d wondered, with everyone except Steve and himself locked up who would tell her it’s safe to leave, but when Natasha helped them escape, she looked him dead in the eyes and informed him, “I’ll look after her, too.”. He still wonders how she knew where Steve chose as a location, but his best friend told him it’s best not to question how the spy gets her information.

The doors open once again, but he doesn’t look up.

“You look a little worse for wear.”

Even with the super serum, it’s a wonder he doesn’t get whiplash, turning his head towards the familiar voice.

“I thought I told you to come back in one piece.”

No, he’s not kidding himself. His senses aren’t fooling him. It’s her. She’s here.

“I did.” She chuckles as she settles into the seat next to him. “More or less.”

Completely ignoring the fact that he’s filthy, covered in at least ten different kinds of muck, she takes his hand in hers. He allows himself the comfort of having her next to him, enjoying the warmth, not just of her body but her presence, before asking,

“Doll, what are you doing here?”

“What I’m usually doing.” She stretches out her legs in front of her as far as they’ll go, then toes off her shoes. “Following you around like a lost puppy.” No, that’s definitely him. Can’t bring himself to stay away even though she’d be safer if he left and never came back. Once upon a time, he fooled himself into believing that so long as he stayed hidden, nobody said those key words, he wouldn’t hurt her. She’d be safer with him to protect her (she can defend herself, sure, but there’s far nastier things out there than just common criminals) than on her own, and besides, she wants him to stay. Now he knows the truth: it doesn’t matter that the Winter Soldier never laid a finger on her. He’s hurt her just from being who he is, sure as he left bruises in the shape of his fingerprints the first night they ever spent together doing something more than sleeping. Well, that ends now. He has to be strong, for her sake.

“I’m not going back to Romania.”

“I know.” She nods. “We’re going to Wakanda.” Here comes the hard part. He can do it. He has to.

“Not “we”. Just me.” It takes a moment, but recognition dawns on her face.

“Are you telling me to leave?”

She says it calmly, but he can tell that inside, she’s already starting to crumble. He should say yes. He’s absolutely telling her to leave. He loves her, god, does he ever, and you don’t hurt the people you love. You protect them, even if that means keeping them away from you. But, even as he prepares to tell her that, he knows the truth.

“Would it do any good if I did?”

“If it was because you truly didn’t want me around, then yes. If it was some self-sacrificing bullshit, then no.”

And there’s the crux of it. He can never tell her to go and truly mean it, just as he could never leave her side without her telling him she wants him gone. He’s simply not that strong, not that noble. Still, he has to try.

“You saw what I did.”

“Yeah, I did.” He feels her sag against his shoulder. “And my opinion hasn’t changed. I’m not afraid of you, Bucky Barnes. The Winter Soldier? Okay, he’s a scary guy, and I’ll be cautious around him, but I trust you.” Her fingers tighten around his. “I love you. That stays the same.”

He swallows hard, trying to get control of himself. There will be a time to put down all his armor, show her how damn tired he is, how if he’s being honest with himself, he just wants to let her take care of him, but not while they’re having this conversation.

“I’m going on ice as soon as we reach Wakanda.”

“Figured as much. I’ll be standing by, pestering them to make sure they do a good job getting what Hydra put in your head back out again.” She tugs gently at his hair. “For now, just relax. It’s only the two of us here. You’ve had a hard couple of days, so just rest.”

He starts to protest that he’s fine, she’s the one who should be decompressing, but then her fingers start working through the hair at his scalp. “You’re safe, Buck. It’s all going to work out.”

“Did you have a vision?” The last thing he sees as he closes his eyes and lets his head fall into her lap is her smile.

“No. Some things you don’t need to see the future to know.”

[keanureevesisbae]

Caught in a Blizzard - Part 1

Summary: Luna is going to perform at the Graham Norton show, but little did she know that Chris Evans is going to be a guest as well.

Pairing: Chris Evans x Luna Hwang (Asian OFC)

Warnings: Mentions about sex and some alcohol

Wordcount: 4.5k

A/N: if you want to be on the taglist, just let me know! Also, I love to read your guys’ thoughts and feedback xx

Masterlist // Introduction // Part 2

Tonight I’m the musical guest on the Graham Norton show and I was too lazy to check who were going to be the other guests. I mean, I was severely jet lagged and a bit hungover, because they were serving some real good wine on the airplane and I might have finished an entire bottle and then some more sips from another bottle.

Normally my new agent Gia would be with me when I go to these types of things, to make sure everything is handled correctly and I’m up to date to the most important things, but since she has come down with a flu, just like her two youngest kids, she obviously stayed in New York. She told me I would be doing fine, however I wished that she was with me now, because she  could’ve told me that finishing that entire bottle of wine myself wasn’t exactly a good idea (I have no self control, that’s obvious) and mentally prepare me for the other guests.

Now I have exactly five minutes to prepare myself, because I have wasted at least thirty with hyperventilating.

Because of the tough weather, Viola Davis couldn’t be here unfortunately, which is a shame, because she herself is a whole new level of awesome. But on the couch sits the queen herself Reese Witherspoon and THE handsome ass Chris Evans is there as well!

I mean, I obviously have an unhealthy crush on him, because who wouldn’t? He is handsome, he is funny and he is exactly the type of man that I’d like to drag in my bed for some mature activities. Seeing him sitting right there, makes my heart do all sorts of different things. And I realize that when I’m going to join them, I have to sit next to him. I have to sit next to the man who thought that wearing grey plaid pants and a fitted sweater would be appropriate.

Normally I would’ve known who the guests are on the shows that I perform at when I was still with my group Brave Elegance, because we had agents and a few members that actually listened to them when stuff like this was being told. I relied on them mostly, because I was making sure I could perfect my performance, by practicing the dance moves and hum out my rap. Now I’m all by myself and the first time Gia is supposed to be with me, she is sick.

And now I have to eat up the consequences of my own stupid choices.

I wish there was a guide available, that could help me out with one of the biggest problems I have ever encountered in my life: how to NOT embarrass yourself in front of the Chris Evans?

‘So, I have a question,’ Graham Norton starts. ‘Our musical guest Luna is backstage and—’ The audience erupts into a loud applause and whistles. ‘Goodness me, I wasn’t even finished yet!’

The crowd starts to laugh and from the looks of it, Reese Witherspoon and Chris Evans are amused. I take another sip of my water, because my throat feels painfully dry.

‘What I was going to ask is if you two had heard from her,’ Graham continues.

‘I do, actually,’ Reese says. ‘My daughter was a huge fan of hers back when she was in Brave Elegance. I went to three concerts of them actually.’

‘Oh, so you know quite a bit about her?’ Graham asks.

Reese nods. ‘Yes, I do. Back when she was in the band, my daughter was such a big fan of hers. Even had posters of her in her room. I do know that she is really killing the game with her solo projects.’

‘She totally is,’ Chris Evans says. ‘I downloaded her album the second it came out. I loved it.’

I think I forget how to breath. He downloaded my album? Holy crap, this isn’t helping with my nerves.

‘Really?’ Graham asks. ‘I never thought you were the type of guy that would listen to her songs, if I’m being honest.’

‘Well, my niece was a Fairy once, so I knew about the existence of them and heard some songs. But I only started to get really invested in their music during their Golden Globe performance, little did I know that that was going to be one of their last performances. A shame really, I was ready to become a Fairy.’

The Chris Evans Captain America Chris Evans was ready to become part of the fanbase? Oh shit, is this how it feels to have an out of body experience? How am I supposed to act normal after this?’

‘Really?’ Graham asks with a smile. ‘Well lucky you then that she is going to perform here.’

A woman ushers me with her and I follow her through the tiny halls. It’s nearly time for me to get on stage, but how am I going to deal with this? The sound is pretty loud, so I continue to hear what is being said.

‘She has something,’ Reese continues. ‘Like she forces you to watch her. My daughter once showed me a compilation of her on the X-Factor and I was genuinely impressed. She was only seventeen and knew exactly how to pull the audience in. Amazing.’

‘Please, everybody, please give it up for the one and only Luna!’

The audience start to clap and whistle, causing me to smile. I always love it when I hear the whistles and the screams of fans. Graham holds out his hand and I kindly take it, but all of the sudden I feel a little self-conscious about my tight red dress and my over knee boots, but I can’t change now. I must hold my breath the entire time I’m sitting my ass on that couch.

I shake hands with Reese Witherspoon, who compliments me on my outfit and tells me I’m so pretty. Why is this woman such a nice lady?

I quickly wipe my palm when I have to shake Chris Evans’ hand. When I’m with my producers or even back when I was still with the girls from Brave Elegance, I’d tell them how Chris Evans literally bite me wherever he wants, choke me during sex and that every hole I have is right there for him to use.

Now I’m standing in front of him and those things have turned into nothing but idle talk.

I somehow manage to extend my hand without shaking like an idiot an he holds mine in his large one. Oh my, those fingers… Imagine them insi— No, Luna, don’t even go there. You are in public!

‘It’s so nice to meet you, Luna,’ he says with a charming smile and me knees nearly give out. His eyes are glued on me and oh my, he is even more handsome from up close.

‘Yeah, it’s nice to meet you too.’ Okay, good, I managed to say seven words to him, in an acceptable order. Progress!

I sit on the left end of the couch, next to Chris Evans and I sure hope the microphone doesn’t pick up on my heartbeat, since I can feel it beating with a force that it actually hurts me.

‘Luna, I’m so happy that you’re here,’ Graham says.

‘Thank you for having me.’

‘Are you excited?’

I nod. ‘This is my first solo interview on television, so I’m a bit nervous, but other than that, I’m very excited. I just hope that I won’t say anything stupid.’

‘You probably won’t,’ Graham says and I don’t feel necessarily assured. ‘I have to say, Luna, you are such an interesting woman.’

‘Is that good or bad?’ I ask.

‘Well, I mean,’ he says, looking at his cards. ‘At the young age of seventeen, you participate in the X-Factor, didn’t win, but did gain four friends. Is it hard to now do your own stuff?’

I think well about this question. Our disbandment was quite messy, though the public doesn’t know about that. The reason we split up was because of the amounts of jealousy between the members and… Me actually. I miss my members every single day and I wish that they were here with me. But I have to realize, that the disbandment was all my fault and if I was just a team player back then, I would still have them around me.

‘It’s hard to be by myself, sometimes. I mean, I have dancers with me, but… It’s different. It can’t be compared to being with four amazingly talented girls with the same dream. So yeah, it’s hard, because I have to figure out how I’m going to do it alone. We were together for six years non stop, so it’s kinda weird.’

‘Your disbandment came as a huge surprise. Did you guys knew that you were going to disband soon?’

‘Well, 2018 was really a rollercoaster of a years and the after shocks of that, went with us to 2019. We were all kind of struggling with our psychical and mental health. I won’t really go into details for the rest of the girls, but I was hospitalized for two months, because I totally overworked myself. Being in a group is hard work and our record label was really putting a lot of pressure on us and after six years, it can be hard to keep up. So, our last two performances… We didn’t really say that it were the last, but deep down we all pretty much knew, you know?’

‘Right… You are the only one that is continuing in the music industry. How come?’

‘Well,’ I say, ‘it’s the only thing I’m good at and I love to do it. I love interacting with fans, being on stage. My new record label is really laid back and they continue to say that we are going at my pace, that my health is the most important and I shouldn’t overwork myself ever, so that really is comforting and I know it’s for the best.’

Graham nods and asks: ‘Did you know that Chris Evans was ready to become a Fairy?’

I shake my head. ‘No, I didn’t.’

‘Tell us, Chris, what was your favorite song and maybe Luna can sing a bit for you.’

I’m going to fucking vomit. Is this truly happening? I bet Gia is watching this right now (or tomorrow, since she is still sick) and she is going to laugh her ass off, just like all the producers and God who knows. I just know.

I carefully look to the side and see Chris Evans smirking. Seeing it in gifs is such an experience, but seeing it in real life… Goodness me.

‘I truly loved ‘You Know, He Did It Too’, especially because it showed how society is really fucked up. It takes two people, but of course only the woman in this story gets the blame, which is not fair.’

‘I’m not going to sing that,’ I say to Graham. ‘Or rap my part.’

‘Why not?’

‘Because…’ I can’t even think of a very good reason to not do it.

‘Come on,’ he coaxes me. ‘When can you say that you rapped in front of Chris Evans? Captain America!’

I sigh, knowing I can’t get out of this.

Remember Bieber, had that fever?

You tiny man, you fucked it up

You should come clean

No need to fake

Your fiancé leave you no matter what

So be a man, suck it up

Take the blame, she ain’t alone.

You little fucker, just spit it out

We do this over and over

Till we fucked up your entire career

‘Damn!’ Graham exclaims. ‘We all watched the news obviously and knew what happened, but you really didn’t hold back with the rap.’

‘Well, funny story,’ I say, ‘originally we wanted the song to be a diss track to society, for only blaming the girl. But then he released a statement, saying that he had nothing to do with it, that she was seducing him and basically that it wasn’t his fault. So that’s when I got mad and changed the entire rap.’

‘Dragging him,’ Chris Evans adds.

I chuckle, feeling all too happy that I can agree with Chris Evans on this. ‘Yeah, dragging him.’

‘I love this,’ Graham says. ‘So, you were just out of high school when you auditioned for X-Factor.’

‘Right,’ I say.

‘You wrote all your raps by yourself. Did you write songs back then?’

I nod. ‘They weren’t any good. I started with really bad poetry and that turned into cringy songs, that were trying to be deep, but it high school cringe. Thanks to the mentors on the X-Factor I was taught about flow and beat and all that good stuff. So I’m really grateful for that.’

Reese says: ‘What always surprised me, was how the raps you wrote matched the songs you girls were performing. But you did that all by yourself, with some help of the mentors?’

I nod. ‘You know, our time being on the X-Factor was hard, but it was so worth it. I feel like my song writing skills have improved over time and I do hope that the album showed my best writing skills and rap skills and sing and dance.’

‘You sure did,’ Graham says. ‘Can you tell us a little about who one of your songs is inspired on?’

I shake my head. ‘My songs aren’t necessarily inspired by anyone or any event really.’ Then I realize that I’m lying. ‘Wait, that is not true. One of my songs was sort of inspired on someone.’

‘I want the details,’ Graham says without skipping a beat, ‘and I want them now. Spill.’

‘Well, Ditch The Boys, Use Your Toys is inspired on someone I had sex with, back in the X-Factor days. We were already going to the next round as Brave Elegance. I had heard some rumors that he was pretty great in bed, causing me to think that if I ever had sex with him, it was going to be mind-blowing, so I had pretty high expectations.’

Graham nods, making it obvious he is really interested in hearing the rest of the story. I look at Reese and Chris, who have amused smiles on their faces.

‘I think we were two minutes into the foreplay, when he… You know… Can I say this on television?’

The host shrugs. ‘I have no idea and I honestly don’t care. I want to know how this story ends, though I might have an idea.’

I chuckle. ‘Well, he penetrates me and I’m like, oh, okay, he really wants to have sex with me. Obviously I was a bit flattered, but I think it took less than thirty seconds before he came  already and made really loud and weird noises. And I was confused, because for starters, he came real quick, but I also didn’t understand why so many girls were raving about him. Then, this guy looks me right in the eye and has the audacity to ask me if I enjoyed it as much as he did.’ My eyes widen, while I hold out my hands, as the audience starts to laugh.

‘I really want to know what you said to that,’ Chris Evans says, who seems to enjoy my story a lot.

‘So I stared at him,’ I continue my story. ‘And I said: “Well, if we were trying to be in the Guinness book of World Records for fastest male ejaculation during sexual intercourse, sure, but I wasn’t aware that we were going for a world record”.’

Graham starts to laugh, Reese places her hands on her face to hide her visible gasp and Chris Evans places his hand on his chest while he laughs, a trait that I love with all my heart.

‘But on top of that,’ I go on, ‘he got mad and said that I was an ungrateful bitch for not being happy we had sex.’

Reese scoffs. ‘What an idiot.’

‘So anyways, it was during our X-Factor days, so I got dressed and told him I was going back to my dorm and masturbate, because I obviously couldn’t count on him for some pleasure. Fast forward to two weeks later. We’re waiting for our dance training and the teacher wasn’t there yet and this time around there weren’t camera’s to film anything. So me and some other girls were chatting about orgasms and stuff like that, as one does. Since this said guy was like a few feet away from us and had been telling the other competitors that I was a slut and ungrateful and all, I decided to take my change. I say in a pretty loud voice: “Well, if you want orgasms, you have to skip on sex with… Let’s call him Peter,’—his name was Cole Springs, but I’m not totally heartless and he is doing pretty okay in the country music industry now, so I don’t want to ruin his reputation entirely—‘you have to skip on sex with Peter, because he’ll nut inside of you within thirty seconds. You better ditch that boy and use your toy, because no orgasms for you when having sex with him. So that song was heavily based on someone.’

‘I’m so glad I asked that question,’ Graham says in a giddy voice, causing the rest of the audience and Chris Evans and Reese Witherspoon to laugh as well. ‘I admire you, Luna,’ he adds. ‘You really have the guts to sing about these topics.’

Chris Evans nods. ‘I totally agree.’

‘What is in stores for Luna?’ Graham asks. ‘What can we expect?’

I lean back in the couch. What can they expect? I never thought that far ahead. I was just thinking about promotions for this album. ‘Hopefully a world tour one day,’ I say. ‘I am still working on expanding my back up crew, but I want everyone to feel represented, you know? So, that’s totally what I’m working on and for the rest… I think just more music, more controversies, because it turns out that’s what I do best.’

‘I’m here for it,’ Graham says. ‘Is it hard to sing about certain topics like sex, masturbation and female empowerment?’

I shrug. ‘I feel like someone should do it,’ I admit. ‘I know that people—especially men—have certain opinions about it, but you know… I feel that there is someone out there, that listens songs and feels a bit empowered and that’s all I care about.’

Chris nods. ‘I admire you,’ he says, causing the audience to aww. ‘I bet it can be hard sometimes.’

Are we having a moment right now? I’m lost in his eyes for a few seconds. ‘Sometimes, yeah.’

Graham interrupts this whatever it was by asking if I’m ready to perform.

‘Oh, yeah, totally am.’

‘Please give it up for Luna, who is going to sing a mashup of Inside and Silky Ribbon!’

✘ ✘ ✘

‘You have one new message,’ the robotic voice of the woman says when I want to check my voicemail on my phone. I’m at a pretty chill bar, with a nice bartender who gave me two drinks on the house already, since he liked my album and my appearance on the Graham Norton show.

‘Luna, what the actual fuck?’ Look at that. Cole Springs decided to call me. ‘Do you honestly need to tell that fucking story on television? I already got five texts from people who either ask me if this is about me or simply know it’s about me.’

I click the voicemail away mid sentence, since I really can’t use this right now. I already feel tired and like shit, no need for Cole Springs to make things even worse. ‘Could I have one more please?’ I ask with a pout, as I push my empty glass to the bartender.

‘Sure thing,’ he says. ‘Who was that on your voicemail?’

‘Cole Springs.’

‘The boyband member gone country boy?’

I nod. ‘He wasn’t all too happy I exposed him like that.’

‘That was the Peter in the story?’ The bartender’s laugh fills up the entire bar. ‘This is amazing. He looks like the type of guy that would nut in two seconds.’

I can’t help but laugh, as I feel the vodka already making me feel a bit lightheaded. That feeling however doesn’t stop me from drinking up some more. I stare outside and see that it’s snowing pretty heavily. I’m still wearing the outfit I wore to Graham Norton, but with the thickest coat worn over it. I know that I have to get back to my hotel, but for now I’ll just stall that moment and enjoy it here.

‘How long are you going to stay in London?’ the bartender asks.

‘Dunno, man. Think I’m heading home somewhere tomorrow or the day after that. I honestly don’t know. Normally Gia, my manager would be with me, but she’s sick now.’

The door opens and some guys are yelling something, but I’m too tired to look up. I place my head on my arms, hoping that I can gain some energy to go and hail a cab.

‘Hi there, can I have…’

I look up and see that Chris Evans is standing right next to me, ordering a drink. He looks really handsome, but that is pretty easy, since he is really handsome. Everything he does is simply breathtaking. I bet he has sex every weekend with someone else. I mean, I bet there is a line waiting to have sex with Captain America and I’m somewhere in that line too. ‘Hi,’ I say and he looks up, a smile appearing on his beautiful face when he recognizes me.

‘Hi, Luna, how are you?’

‘Tired and a bit annoyed though.’

‘Oh no.’ He sits on the stool next to me and his knee bumps against mine. ‘Tell me all about it.’

I start to rant about Cole Springs, exposing to Chris as well who the story was about and during that rant, I go on about my past, about the foster care system and how that is bothering me. I rub my face, not caring that my make-up is all smudged over and the alcohol that I just drank is really kicking in now.

‘I think I just have a kink for controversy, you know,’ I say, staring at me empty glass. ‘I love being in the spotlights for everything that is not exactly how it’s supposed to go. When I got arrested at that protest, boy, I liked the attention that got.’

Chris smiles. ‘Well, I hardly think what you do is that controversial. I think you are just a bit ahead of your time.’

‘That is so deep,’ I admit, absolutely in awe by him. ‘Wow, not only are you handsome, but you are pretty much an intellectual as well. You should consider writing. Bet it would be a bestseller.’

‘I think,’ Chris laughs, pulling the drink from my hands, ‘you’ve had enough to drink.’

‘No,’ I whine, but Chris gets out of his chair. ‘I’m boring you, aren’t I?’

‘Not at all, but I think you need to get back to your hotel,’ Chris says. ‘Hearing from your stories, you have to catch a flight tomorrow and I bet you don’t want to be completely hungover then.’

‘I was already hungover this morning,’ I say, sliding off the barstool. Chris holds up my coat and helps me to put it on. ‘I could use a cigarette, you know.’

‘I bet you do.’

I wrap my arm around his broad shoulders and with my other hand, I hold his face. I place my thumb on one cheek and the rest of my fingers on his other cheek. ‘You have such a beautiful face, that you could just lick and not regret it,’ I admit. ‘Has anyone told you that?’

He starts to chuckle. ‘Not with those exact words.’

‘Well,’ I continue, ‘have you ever read fan fiction about yourself?’ I don’t give him time to answer that question, as we walk out of the bar into the cold, Chris’ arm wrapped tightly around my waist. ‘I have,’ I say, ‘especially the real dirty ones. According to those stories, you know exactly how to please a woman. I bet you are really good in bed, a whole lot better than sweet Cole Springs. I bet you can last for hours.’

‘I sure hope so,’ he laughs.

‘Tell me, do you have sex with a new woman every other week? Because I was wondering that and personally, I’m gravitating towards yes, because honestly I think you are a walking sex machine.’

Chris holds out his hand to hail a cab and says: ‘No, I don’t actually. I barely have sex nowadays.’

‘Shut up!’ I yell. ‘No, no, no, that can’t be true.’ I wiggle myself out of his embrace and crouch down on the sidewalk. My fingers touch the snow, a cold sensation that makes me shiver. ‘What happened to the world that you, Chris Captain America Evans, barely has sex nowadays. If you don’t have sex, what is the rest of the world doing? Oh my, you poor thing.’

‘It’s really not that big of a deal, Luna,’ Chris laughs. He holds out his hands and says: ‘Come on, we need to get into the cab.’

‘You hailed a cab?’ I take ahold of his warm hands and jump up. ‘That is so cool. You are so talented.’

He helps me into the cab and I want to pull him on my lap, so he can sit comfortably there, but weirdly enough, he insists on walking around the cab and sitting next to me. ‘So, can you tell me where your hotel is?’

‘I don’t remember,’ I admit. ‘I barely remember anything that happened today. I was pretty hungover when I arrived here.’ I let myself fall to the side, placing my head on his legs. ‘Mister Evans, have you been working out?’ I squeeze his tight muscles in his thighs, admiring what’s in between my fingers. ‘Damn, I bet chicks love to ride your thighs.’

He burst out in laughter. ‘How much did you have to drink?’ he asks.

‘Just a few shots,’ I admit. ‘But I don’t really handle alcohol that great, to be honest. I’m wasted like that.’ I attempt to snap my fingers, but I fail miserably. My hands look for his and when I finally have one in my hand, I admire his beautifully shaped fingers. ‘You have lovely hands. You have spanked a girl’s ass with these? Or anyone’s ass for that matter’

He starts to laugh. ‘You are unbelievable,’ he says.

‘I’ve never been spanked,’ I confess. ‘I’d love that though. You know, I sing about sex a lot, but to be honest, I haven’t had proper sex in like a year. I mean, my toys do miracles, just like my hands and all. But I just want to have hot and heavy sex.’ I look up and hold out my hand, to touch his beautiful face. His beard pricks against my skin, but I’m not complaining at all.

In the background I hear Chris say something to me, but I close my eyes and fall asleep.

Taglist: @diegos-butt​

[carewyncromwell]

Next installation of the POTC AU, at long last! Sorry for the delay...RL has been a bit of a hindrance, and I also had to kind of restructure some things in the storyline to help with flow and such, and that resulted in me having to draw another drawing, and yeah, blah blah, Tory lost her sense of rhythm and pretty much daily update schedule in the process. XD; Mea culpa!

In this part, we’ll have focus on both sides of the “divide,” with both Carewyn and her new ally Davy Jones/Finn McGarry @theguythatdraws and Charlie Weasley (pictured above in an even more pirate-y coat and hat than we saw last) and his sloop’s passenger Chiara Dalma. Will our pirate friends be able to reach Shipwreck Cove before they’re cut off by our non-pirate ones?

Interestingly enough, there was a pirate called Moody in the 1700s, though this one was Christopher Moody, not Alastor. Not much is known about him aside from his brutality (refusing to take prisoners), his unique Jolly Roger flag (which was red and gold rather than black), and his death by hanging in 1722. Pirate!Mad-Eye is going to be much more like his book/movie/game counterpart, but I just thought it was a fun coincidence. (Particularly his red/gold color scheme for his flag, which of course are Gryffindor colors!!)

Jules Farrier-Weasley belongs to @cursebreakerfarrier, last part is here, and whole tag is here! Hope you enjoy!

x~x~x~x

Carewyn knew there was no way she would be able to get Jones’s heart as long as her men were guarding the Chest -- yet, at the same time, she couldn’t just order them to abandon it without cause...and she’d need that time, if she wanted to unlock it without stealing the key from Rakepick. And so she’d need a proper diversion.

Davy Jones himself came up with a solution. If the Flying Dutchman was engaged in battle, then the soldiers might have to jump in to help defend it. All they’d have to make sure of was that the enemy they engaged in battle was one Cutler Beckett would approve of -- namely, one of the more wanted pirates in the Caribbean, and someone who could end up being one of the Pirate Lords.

“I do not know any of the pirates’ current list of so-called ‘Lords,’” said Jones, “but if I were to guess, I would say your brother’s a viable candidate.”

Carewyn shook her head. “Rakepick blew up the Tower Raven. Jacob managed to escape, but he only has one other person with him and he won’t have a ship.”

“Not his flagship, perhaps, but the rest of his fleet would have still survived,” pointed out Jones. “And the more ships there are, the most justification there would be for your Navy reinforcements. Once I have my heart returned, I can always call off the attack -- there’s no need for me to capture or kill them, aside from following Beckett’s direction.”

And so it was very reluctantly that Carewyn agreed to let Jones covertly seek out the remainder of the Tower Raven’s fleet while supposedly looking for Shipwreck Cove. Little did Carewyn know that the Tower Raven’s fleet was likewise headed for Shipwreck Cove, and that they were on a collision course with a tiny red sloop steered by Charlie Weasley.

When Charlie came upon the fleet of pirate ships, he initially wasn’t too worried. Yeah, naturally, they dwarfed his vessel easily, but he presumed that they were heading for Shipwreck Cove as well, and they didn’t have much reason to attack a small sloop like his. What Charlie hadn’t factored in was that the captain of one of those ships -- Alastor “Mad-Eye” Moody -- had gone through his fair share of trauma when he used to be in the Navy and was something of a paranoid sort...and so within minutes, the little sloop Charlie and Chia Dalma were on was soon pursued by Moody’s much larger galleon, called the Phoenix.

Fortunately Charlie was more than talented enough of a sailor to keep his head. Using the advantage of his boat’s size, he weaved expertly through the remainder of the Tower Raven’s ships to evade the Phoenix’s cannon fire.

“Oi!” Charlie bellowed up at one of the ships he was hiding behind. “Tell your mate to bugger off! I’m not with the bloody Navy!”

Chia made no move to help Charlie: instead she stood on the other side of the sloop, watching the seas with a wary eye. There was something troubling on the wind -- something in the air...

A pirate from the Phoenix came up to the railing to look down at Charlie and Chia on their sloop as Charlie sailed it around his galleon. He was a broad-shouldered man about Charlie’s age with dark red hair under a black bandana and small emerald green eyes, and he was dressed in a burgundy-colored coat.

“Hey -- you!” the pirate bellowed down at him. “Down there! Shout up your name!”

Charlie hesitated at first. He knew it was unlikely that most pirates would recognize his name as being that of a pirate -- if anything, the name “Weasley” was associated more with the Navy, even if he, Jules, and Bill had recently been branded criminals.

‘Even so,’ he thought, ‘I’m never going to be able to build a reputation as anything other than a Navy veteran if I don’t use my name. And well, these guys answer to Carey’s brother -- it should be safe...’

“I’m Charlie Weasley!” he shouted back. “Quartermaster of the Revolution under Captain Jules Farrier-We -- ack!”

Before Charlie could even finish, both he and Chia had gotten a net thrown over them and they were hauled aboard the Phoenix.

As Charlie had feared, the name “Weasley” made everyone on the Phoenix tense up with suspicion. Charlie’s “twin,” it turned out, had been swept up by Cutler Beckett, who was now flaunting the fact that the famous, brilliant young Commodore Carey Weasley was answering to him and helping him with his new anti-piracy campaign. Charlie knew full well the only reason Carewyn could be associating with Beckett was to try to sabotage him, but the Phoenix’s Captain Moody seemed doubtful of that explanation. His First Mate, Barnaby Lee -- the young man who had first demanded Charlie’s name -- seemed noticeably less suspicious, but wasn’t half as assertive or articulate as Moody, so the Captain’s conclusion won out among the crew.

Charlie and Chia were soon hauled down to the brig with the thought that once the fleet arrived in Shipwreck Cove, Moody’s superior, Black Jack Roberts -- were he still alive -- would be able to discern how best to deal with them. Charlie hadn’t been too surprised that Jacob hadn’t told everyone in his fleet that “Carey Weasley” was really his sister, but he couldn’t help but curse the fact that Jacob had merely ordered that his men not “damage anyone with the name ‘Weasley’ and immediately bring them to him to deal with.” Even if he had to keep up a “tough guy” image, it would’ve been nice if Jacob had factored in the possibility that he wouldn’t be leading his fleet.

Unfortunately Moody’s suspicion had a real cost. Because of his focus on Charlie and Chia Dalma, he wasn’t focusing on the turbulence of the seas and skies that Chia picked up on -- and so had no warning whatsoever when the Flying Dutchman attacked. Soon the entire fleet of ships that once sailed under the Tower Raven was hotly engaged in battle with the infamous ship of the damned, pirates facing off against both cursed sailors and Navy officers.

While Davy Jones, his crew, and the Navy’s officers were fighting on the upper deck, Carewyn had stowed away below deck to where the Dead Man’s Chest had been left. After sending the remainder of the patrol above deck to help with the sea battle, Carewyn immediately got to work picking the lock on the Chest. Although it was a bit trickier to do it on her own than it had been with Percy, that hindrance was counteracted somewhat by her having unlocked the Chest once before. Within fifteen minutes, Carewyn had unlocked the two-sided lock and opened the Chest.

But when she opened it, she found it completely empty.

“It seems we truly are as alike as I thought.”

Carewyn whirled around.

Rakepick was leaning her shoulder against the door frame. She’d discarded her tricorn hat just as Carewyn had since they were no longer on deck, and her dark blue eyes were locked on the Commodore’s face as though it were a target.

Carewyn immediately pulled out her pistol, pointing it right at Rakepick.

“Where is the heart?” she said very coldly.

“I confiscated it,” said Rakepick simply, “back when I checked to make sure Jones’s key works.”

“On Beckett’s orders?” asked Carewyn.

Had she truly not fooled Beckett, after all? Had Rakepick been sent to watch her as well as Jones? Her face blanched at this thought.

“For my own benefit,” said Rakepick. “Just as I daresay your attempt to steal the heart also was.”

Carewyn’s eyes narrowed. “I’m not stealing anything.”

”I don’t know what else you’d call picking the lock on a Chest that’s in the custody of the British Navy,” said Rakepick with a rather cool smile.

Carewyn clicked her pistol and pointed it right at Rakepick’s head.

“Hand over the heart,” she murmured, “now.”

Rather than looking the least bit intimidated, however, Rakepick almost looked more pleased. She eased herself off the door frame and took a few steps closer to Carewyn.

“You intend to kill me, Commodore?” she said.

“I would prefer not to,” Carewyn answered icily. “But I suggest you don’t push me -- I can still shoot you in plenty of places that would be extremely painful or deadly, if left untreated. And no one would come to help you with your wounds -- there’s more than enough noise above deck to muffle any gun shots that might come from down here.”

Rakepick’s lips spread into an even fuller, satisfied smile as she came to a halt just a foot from Carewyn. “I see. If I’m dead, you won’t learn where the heart is. Very astute, Miss Weasley.”

Carewyn stiffened sharply.

“I knew it as soon as I saw you,” said Rakepick softly. “I daresay because your family is poor, you didn’t have enough prospects to just marry into money. Probably were too independent and self-sufficient to settle for that, as well....so you joined your brothers in the Navy by dressing as another son. I suppose ‘Carey’ is just a play on your real name -- is it Cara? Or Carina?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Carewyn whispered.

She tried to obscure her fear with anger, but it was proving difficult -- her face was as white as a sheet.

Rakepick couldn’t fight back a scoff. “Now, really, Commodore -- do you truly think you’re the only woman who realized how few opportunities there are, for us to get ahead in this world run by men? I dressed as a man and joined the Navy myself during the War, fighting the French off the coast of Africa as a privateer for his Majesty’s Navy.”

She started striding in a leisurely circle around Carewyn, even as the Commodore kept a beady eye on her.

“‘Patrick Rakepick,’ I was called then. I probably would’ve continued that way too, had privateering not been outlawed with the end of the War. Suddenly all of the skills I had learned -- just as with all privateers -- became illegal and therefore useless. I was at the bottom once again, even worse off than before, thanks to the time lost and the injuries suffered. So I did what many other privateers did -- I became a pirate, so I could continue using those skills the Crown had taught me to support myself -- ”

“By pillaging merchant ships and attacking innocent people,” Carewyn spat. She wished she’d been able to keep her temper, but the mental image of this woman shooting Jacob in the back and pushing him overboard had rippled through her mind and it was a knife to her heart she couldn’t bear.

“We all have to do things we’re not proud of in order to survive, Miss Weasley,” said Rakepick very quietly. “That’s the reason you’ve stayed in line with Beckett yourself, is it not?”

Carewyn’s eyes narrowed. Rakepick took her silence as an excuse to press further.

“I saw the way you treated the prisoners from Tortuga. You did not treat them as Jones would, or even as any other officer would. You insisted they be fed and watered consistently, despite their large numbers and their shortened lifespans. You gave one a Bible, on request. You even moved a woman into a different cell so she could be with her husband for the rest of the voyage back to Port Royal, without even being asked.”

Rakepick’s dark blue eyes surveyed Carewyn with something interested, almost admiring, as she came to a halt just behind the shorter young woman.

“You have the heart of a guardian, Miss Weasley. Something not frequently seen in any line of work I’ve ever been part of -- privateering, piracy, or pirate hunting...and something never found among men like Cutler Beckett. It makes you want to protect others as well as yourself. It makes you a natural leader -- one that anyone would be foolish to deny their proper place.”

“I don’t need your flattery, Rakepick,” Carewyn said coldly, turning on her heel to face the older woman once again.

“This is not flattery,” Rakepick answered just as coldly. “It’s advice from someone who has been in your shoes. It’s not easy for anyone without money and status to get ahead in this world, but it’s even harder for a woman. Even when she’s able to acquire those things, there’ll always be a man attempting to clip her wings, so as to make him feel more powerful -- more in control. Even the tale of the goddess Calypso herself proves this. She ruled the seas, until the Pirate King and his Brethren Court ‘bound her’ into human form and stole control for themselves. They were powerless in the face of the Crowns of Europe...and so they exerted power over someone they could hurt.”

“Yet Cutler Beckett hired you, regardless of your sex,” said Carewyn, raising her eyebrows.

Rakepick crossed her arms over his chest. “Cutler Beckett will clip anyone’s wings, female or otherwise, if it benefits himself. Hence why I need this leverage over him.”

“Seems like the leverage is much more over Jones, considering you hold his life in your hands,” Carewyn cut her off harshly. “Now enough stalling -- give me Jones’s heart.”

Rakepick gave a half-frustrated, half-exhausted sigh. “Miss Weasley, do you truly think I wouldn’t have handed the heart over to you already, if I could? I’ve already made it more than clear I trust Beckett as little as you do. I’m not in this fight for him. I have no more love for either the Navy or the pirates than you do. I assure you -- we’re on the same side in this.”

‘Doubtful,’ Carewyn thought spitefully.

Nonetheless she could tell that she’d been outmaneuvered. Rakepick wasn’t going to hand over Jones’s heart, whether because it wasn’t on the ship or Rakepick was just too brave to give in to any threats she might make. She’d lost the element of surprise completely...and if force wasn’t going to work, then a new strategy was clearly needed. She needed to find out the heart’s new location. So, very reluctantly, she tucked her pistol back into its holster.

“If you’re so out for yourself,” said Carewyn coldly, “and you believe me to be just as out for myself...then we can’t be on the same side, Rakepick.”

Rakepick’s eyebrows rose over her narrowing dark blue eyes.

“I never said you were out for yourself, Miss Weasley -- merely that we are alike.”

She swept past Carewyn and headed for the door. When she reached the door frame, however, she paused. Turning her head back toward Carewyn, she spoke a bit more seriously.

“The battle between the Navy and the Pirate Brethren Court is going to be a fierce one. It would truly be in your best interest to get and stay off the Dutchman, before that fight begins.”

Carewyn shot a suspicious look over her shoulder without turning around.

“What battle?” she asked lowly.

“The place where all pirates will have to make their final stand.”

“You’re so assured of that? We haven’t even found Shipwreck Cove,” Carewyn pointed out. “Come to think of it...shouldn’t you know where Shipwreck Cove is, since you were a pirate yourself?”

Rakepick’s eyes flashed.

“I’m afraid not,” she said, her voice noticeably icier than it had been previously.

The question seemed to have gotten under Rakepick’s skin, and Carewyn suspected she knew exactly why. Only pirate captains were generally told the the location of Shipwreck Cove -- since she hadn’t assumed captainship through “Code-sanctioned” means, Rakepick couldn’t have been told by anyone else on the crew of Howell Davis’s ship where Shipwreck Cove was.

‘Serves you right, for what you did to Jacob,’ Carewyn thought, and she couldn’t completely fight back a small smirk.

“Regardless,” said Rakepick, “it won’t take long to find it. You saw the map Beckett designed, in your office -- it’s been finished, since you last saw it. The world’s edges have been drawn and charted, and so too have all of the places pirates could’ve once hidden. Now that they’ve been fenced in and the British Crown has allocated its Navy to the East India Trading Company’s war on piracy...it’s only a matter of time before all pirates face extinction. Those in power will not surrender it peacefully...least of all to those they’ve decided to treat as inferiors...so they’ll use every bit of that power they’ve accrued to try to quash any resistance. Those remaining pirates will have to either adapt to this terrifying new world their rebellion has molded...or perish.”

Rakepick turned away.

“And you, Miss Weasley...should not remain on the Dutchman. You don’t belong on a ship like this.”

Even as Rakepick left, Carewyn remained where she was, standing straight-backed in the center of the room with her fists clenched. Then, after a long moment, she brought a hand up to the lid of the empty Dead Man’s Chest and shut it with a harsh SNAP.

The sea battle up above raged. Captain Moody, it seemed, was truly a force to be reckoned with, despite his age and wooden limbs. When Navy officers and Dutchman pirates found their way onto the Phoenix, he fought four of them off single-handed, even going so far as to yank a blunderbuss out of his pants and shoot one of them right in the head before smacking two of the others with it as if it were a club. It was just fortunate that Charlie -- newly escaped from the brig thanks to a charm of Chia Dalma’s -- was able to block the sword belonging to the last of them with his own dragon-hilted blade.

Despite this, the Phoenix and the rest of the Tower Raven’s old fleet was severely outmatched, since Jones’s crew couldn’t die. Many ships had already started to flee, only for the Flying Dutchman to cut them down with cannon fire. Even though the Dutchman was no larger than the pirate galleons, it seemed to have the supernatural ability to heal any damage dealt to it within the span of a few minutes -- an ability not shared by Captain Moody, when he swung over to the Dutchman and pursued Jones with singular, irrational focus, only to finally be overpowered and killed by Jones himself.

“NO!” bellowed Barnaby.

Charlie straightened up sharply, his eyes widening in horror, at the sight of Moody falling to his knees, Jones’s blade stuck right through his chest.

Jones regarded the old man with a grim expression.

“Alastor Moody,” he murmured, “do you fear death?”

Moody glared up at Jones with his one good eye, but was clearly too badly injured to speak. So instead he spat at his feet.

Jones looked almost jaded by the reaction -- the way any embodiment of Death would likely be, whenever anyone got mad at them for doing their job.

“Clearly not.”

With this, he rather callously tossed Moody back over onto the deck of the Phoenix and whirled back to his crew.

“Ready the cannons!”

Barnaby immediately rushed to his captain’s side to help him up.

“Captain -- Captain, are you -- ?”

Alas, Moody was still too injured to speak clearly. When he opened his mouth, all he could do was cough up blood. Charlie rushed over too.

“He’s hurt bad,” he muttered. He turned to Chia. “Is there anything you -- ?”

Chia shook her head, her gray eyes very solemn. “I’m sorry, Charles Weasley. There’s no more time I can give him.”

Charlie was startled by the sensation of someone grabbing the collar of his shirt. Moody pulled him down closer to him, trying to whisper into his ear.

"You -- ” he choked through the blood in his mouth, “ -- have the Pacific Ocean’s Piece of Eight -- ?”

Charlie blinked in surprise. He glanced down at the anchor-trimmed “S” button Chia gave him, which he’d pinned to his vest for safe keeping until he could properly sew it somewhere more secure.

“...Yeah,” said Charlie. “Chia Dalma gave it to me.”

Moody squinted up at Charlie.

“...Shipwreck Cove -- is due west, of here. Fifty miles -- through the D-Devil’s -- Throat. Take -- the crew there.”

Charlie was completely blind-sided. “What?”

“Lead them. Take them to -- Shipwreck Cove. To the rest of the Court. To -- Black Jack.”

Charlie’s brown eyes rippled with sadness, seeing how much difficulty Moody was having talking. He was out of time, as Chia had said -- and yet, here he was, putting his crew first.

‘For all of his faults,’ thought Charlie, ‘Mad-Eye Moody is a good captain.’

The second-eldest Weasley took Moody’s wizened hand in both of his and gave it a squeeze.

“I will,” he said firmly. “I promise.”

Blood streamed from Moody’s lips as they curled up in a pained smile. “That’s a good lad...”

He coughed, trying hard to take another breath. This time, however, the blood blocked his throat enough that no oxygen could reach him. And so Moody, in the last shreds of his life, bravely raised his eyes to the sky with a smile.

Barnaby had brought his two large fists up to obscure his face as he started to cry. Charlie hung his head respectfully over the fallen captain of the Phoenix. After a moment, he brought up a hand to close Moody’s eyes and then rose to his feet, his eyes blazing with determination.

“ALL HANDS, PREPARE THE CANNONS!” he bellowed. “We need all the explosives and smoke bombs we have -- we’re getting the Hell out of here!”

Charlie’s strategy was to assault the Flying Dutchman with two waves of attack. The first would be to damage the ship enough that it would need a few minutes to repair itself -- the second would be a smokescreen, so as to hopefully put enough distance between the Phoenix and the Flying Dutchman that the second couldn’t actively take down the first with its cannon fire. When Charlie ran to the edge of the Phoenix beside Chia Dalma to make the order to fire, he was startled momentarily by who he saw coming up onto the deck of the Dutchman.

It was Carewyn.

Jones confronted her immediately, his eyes narrowed sharply as he barked something to her -- Carewyn looked rather frustrated herself, but Charlie couldn’t make out what they were saying. Within seconds, however, both Jones and Carewyn turned their focus to the battle -- and they both caught sight of the two people at the railing.

Jones’s eyes flickered with shock, disbelief, and something oddly more vulnerable. He’d never seen the human woman on that ship’s railing in his life...but he knew those gray eyes...

“Ca...lypso...?”

Chia Dalma’s hands clutched the railing as her eyes filled with tears and a weak smile prickled at her features.

“Finn,” she breathed.

Carewyn, meanwhile, had met Charlie’s gaze straight on. Her eyes were very wide at the sight of him, just as much as Charlie’s was at the sight of her.

“Carey!” cried Charlie.

His heart felt like it was fit to burst, seeing his surrogate twin again. Part of him just wanted to throw himself over his ship’s railing over to her and pull her into the biggest hug, and yet --

She was on the Dutchman -- the Flying Dutchman, the ship of the damned --

Carewyn’s eyes flooded with fear as she shot her head around, taking in her soldiers fighting off pirates from the rest of the Tower Raven’s fleet on the deck of her ship and the Phoenix’s cannons being turned into the proper position.

Her gaze then shot back to Charlie’s face with urgency.

“BECKETT IS COMING!” she mouthed to him desperately. “BECKETT IS COMING! GO!”

She then yanked her pistol out of her belt and purposefully shot right over Charlie’s head, to make her point. Clenching his jaw, Charlie nonetheless nodded firmly, blinking back some traces of tears as he whirled on his crew.

“FIRST WAVE, FIRE ALL!” he roared.

With the Dutchman effectively hampered by both waves of attack, the Phoenix was able to successfully put a respectable distance between it and the Flying Dutchman. Carewyn tried to keep their focus on the rest of the fleet and on capturing prisoners from those vessels, but Rakepick contradicted her, ordering the Dutchman to shadow the Phoenix in case it was heading to Shipwreck Cove. What Carewyn did not expect was Jones agreeing with Rakepick.

“I want everyone on board the Phoenix locked in my brig,” said the captain of the damned icily, his gaze flaring with raw emotion as he glared at Carewyn. “I will not let them escape me.”

Carewyn knew she’d been outmaneuvered again. There was nothing more she could do, to protect everyone now. It was all up to Charlie now, to warn Bill, Jules, and Jacob...to warn Orion...

The memory of the pirate captain’s calm, dark eyes made Carewyn’s heart clench with longing and pain. He’d always made her feel so much stronger, whenever she felt most useless and hopeless...but right now, more than anything, she longed to have him at her side -- to feel his shoulder resting against hers and see his soft smile once more...

Rakepick was right -- the final battle was coming, sooner than anyone could’ve ever predicted. It was all up to Charlie to warn the Brethren Court now.

[hellzyeahwebwielingessays]

The Problem with Spidey as ‘Iron Man Junior’

Proponents of the MCU version of Peter Parker have often defended his characterization as logical and necessary in context. But is this really the case?

Tl:dr version: No it is not.

Forgive some laziness on my part because I’m going to be presuming everyone’s familiarity with the comic book iteration of Spider-Man and his MCU adaptation for the most part. To say there is a divide between many fans of former vs. the latter would be an understatement.

Detractors (which I count myself among) typically sum this up as the character being reduced to ‘Iron Man Junior’. In general this refers to MCU Peter Parker’s hero-worshipping of Tony Stark/Iron Man, their father/son relationship and the similar emphasis upon high technology in their hero identities. A connected point of contention is Peter’s aspiration to become an Avenger.

This was outright confirmed by Tom Holland himself in an interview for the then upcoming ‘Spider-Man: Homecoming’.

"I think the difference now is that Peter Parker finally has an all-time goal, and his goal is to become an Avenger…Everything he does, even though he's doing it for the right reasons, is done so that one day he can become an Avenger and prove himself to Tony Stark. And I think we've never really seen Spider-Man with that kind of motivation before."

Defenders of this take upon Spidey have argued that this portrayal makes sense in context.

After all, Peter Parker is a teenager who’s grown up in a world where the Avengers are beloved, especially Iron Man. Plus in the comics (under J. Michael Straczynski’s pen) there was a time when Peter and Tony shared a father/son relationship. Tony even equipped Peter with a high tech costume as he did in the MCU. Spider-Man early in his career attempted to join the Fantastic Four in ASM #1 and later the Avengers in ASM Annual #3.

The problem is these defences just don’t hold up to scrutiny.

Let me first be upfront about my philosophy towards adaptations.

I in no way shape or form demand nor expect adaptations to be 1:1 panel to screen translations of the source material. I fully respect that changes are a necessity.

One of many 22-page comic book stories put out every month in the 1960s inevitably needs to be altered when jumping to a 90+ minute live action film in the 2010s.

Even the characterizations need to be altered where necessary if the source material is found wanting. *side eyes Emma Stone’s Gwen Stacy*

However, my attitude is that adaptations should at minimum respect the spirit  of the source material no matter what. To do otherwise defeats the object of adapting the work in the first place. If a film is just borrowing superficial traits (names, costumes, powers, etc.) and but not representing the spirit of the character, then creatively speaking it might as well be an original character.

This is the case with the MCU version of Spider-Man. A fundamental component of Stan Lee and Steve Ditko’s original vision for Spider-Man was that he was in essence the anti-Robin.

At a time when teenaged characters were sidekicks (Dick Grayson), supporting characters (Rick Jones) or the ‘kids’ in teams (Johnny Storm) Peter Parker was unique as a totally independent  teen hero. Of course that independence only applied to his life as Spider-Man, but that was part of the point. Spider-Man was his escape and release from the pressures and hang ups of his regular life, which included his doting yet coddling aunt.

A critical part of this was that he was a self-made  man. No elder mentor guided him in the use of his powers, helped him create his equipment or provided any sort of advice/accountability for Peter. He did it all himself. He was a loner.

On a meta level this is partially why Stan Lee (and for the longest time consequent writers) showcased Spidey not jiving with super teams. It was done to emphasis Peter’s independence and thereby his uniqueness within the genre. Even if that’s not so unique anymore (even in film), it’s still a baked in component of teen Spidey’s story. An essential aspect of who he is as a character.

As is his working class status.*

In fact these things go hand-in-hand. Just as Peter had to shoulder an ‘adult hero’s’ burden as Spider-Man (noticeably Lee didn’t dub him Spider-Boy or Lad as would’ve been common back then he also had to struggle for every penny. With the death of his uncle and his aunt’s poor health the burden of household provider fell on his shoulders.

When you take all this into account, having him fanboy over the Avengers and have a superhero mentor (let alone a billionaire one) is an aggressive misreading of the character.

The best way I can illustrate this is with an analogy from the opposite end of the spectrum. Imagine if you will a movie depicting Dick Grayson’s transformation into Robin. Except Batman was wholly absent. Not even an off-screen presence.

That  is how poorly MCU has missed the point  of Spider-Man.

And it was never necessary.

Contrary to defenders of the MCU, making Peter an Avengers/Iron Man fanboy was not the only logical direction to go with the character.**

Yes, in Peter’s world most kids would revere the Avengers and Iron Man. But in the real world not every kid or teen likes the Avengers characters or movies. Just as not every major pop culture phenomenon has ever been universally  embraced by contemporary kids/teens. In the 1980s not every kid loved the Transformers or the Ninja Turtles. In the 1990s not ever kid loved the Power Rangers or Pokémon.

Of course, most kids did, just as most  kids like the Avengers characters today. Similarly most  kids in the MCU by extension would look up to the Avengers. However, if anything this could actually help generate a more spiritually faithful rendition of the character. Consider that on literally the first page of Amazing Fantasy #15 Peter Parker was mocked by his classmates for being an outsider. A bookworm who didn’t know the difference between a cha-cha and a waltz.

In the context of the MCU wouldn’t Peter’s lack of familiarity or interest in the Avengers make for an appropriate updating of that characterization?

Let’s also consider that in the context of the regular 616 universe Spidey held little reverence for any of the heroes who had preceded him. This included Captain America and other WWII heroes as well as the Fantastic Four and their leader, the world famous scientist Reed Richards. Peter would’ve surely known who Reed and Cap were but as originally depicted by Stan lee himself, he wasn’t falling over himself during any of their early encounters.

So there was already a precedent in the comics for Spidey to not be dazzled by famous A-list heroes, meaning it’d be totally believable in the context of the MCU. Indeed this was likely part of the point of the character. Just as being Spider-Man didn’t improve his outsider status within the high school hierarchy so too was he an outsider among his super hero peers. The nerd to the Avengers jocks if you will.

But what of those comic book sources that say otherwise? Surely ASM #1, ASM Annual #3 and JMS’ run on Amazing Spider-Man corroborate the MCU’s take upon the character.

Yes and no, let’s tackle them one by one.

In ASM #1 it was made explicit that Peter wanted to join the F4 for purely practical reasons. His family needed money so he hoped the F4 could provide and income. When he learned otherwise he departed as quickly as he’d arrived.

In ASM Annual #3 Peter was far from eager  to join the Avengers and was equally unimpressed with them as a group.

He actively sabotaged his own chances to join at the issue’s conclusion.

As for Straczynski’s run…sigh…strap in.

At face value this run does indeed seem to support the MCU’s rendition of Spidey. However, the support it offers falls apart due to two factors.

The first is that, well…Peter and Tony’s relationship was pretty nonsensical.

I’m no Iron Man expert so I do not know how old the character would be roughly. From my impressions of the character though circa 2006 he wasn’t even in his 40s yet. Peter by contrast was 30 years old when you do the math. Unlike Tony he’d had several very serious romantic relationships and was back then happily married (barring a brief trial separation). He and his wife had lost a child and even believed one another dead at one point or another. Peter at the time was also working as a teacher to teenagers where he was clearly framed as their elder authority figure.

What I’m saying is that Peter was if anything more emotionally mature than Tony at this time. Or at least he was mature to the point where he was not going to view Tony as his father figure given the minor age discrepancy.

The relationship was clearly engineered with the pre-determined endgame in mind. That endgame being the ‘Civil War’ storyline wherein Peter would unmask upon Tony’s request and subsequently become a fugitive in defiance of Tony’s unethical practices. The latter would entail Tony threatening Peter and the pair coming to blows.

This brings me to the second factor. The totality of Peter/Tony’s relationship was designed to be a testament to how it was ultimately a bad thing.

Tony wasn’t the man Peter believed him to be.

Tony didn’t have Peter’s best interests at heart.

Tony was willing to spy, threaten and even attack Peter.

And along the way Peter and his family lost their home and the safety of Peter’s anonymity. The end result was Peter’s life becoming a shell of it’s former self, with his loved ones in serious danger. In fact you could view his fugitive status as a way to recreate the ‘good old days’ when Spider-Man was feared and hated by the public and authorities.

Had Peter retained his independence rather than surrendering any part of it to his ‘father figure’ Tony Stark, much of this could’ve been avoided. If nothing else Peter might’ve been able to unmask privately rather than publicly.

Whilst the MCU addresses the first factor via de-aging Peter, it has no answer for the second. It borrowed from the JMS run superficially and ditched the greater subtext regarding how Peter shouldn’t  have formed a relationship with Tony.

I’d like to conclude by addressing the most obvious counterpoint to everything I’ve said.

If Spider-Man were more comic faithful wouldn’t it undermine the entire point of him being in the MCU? The appeal of the concept was seeing Spider-Man interact with the wider MCU. From the audience’s POV seeing yet another Spidey flick confined to using Spider-Man exclusive elements might as well have been produced solely by Sony.

The problem with this argument though is that it doesn’t consider the myriad of possibilities available. Spidey could interact with the wider MCU and still be in character.

I’m no writer but off the top of my head:

Spidey could have defied the Sokovia Accords and thus been wanted by the authorities (a neat updating of his traditional ‘outlaw’ status), consequently coming into conflict  with Iron Man

Spidey might have still dueled the Vulture and interacted with Tony as he did in ‘Spider-Man: Homecoming’. However, instead of gradually realizing he should be a ‘friendly neighborhood’ hero, he could call Tony out for ignoring small scale crime which indirectly ‘created’ the Vulture in the first place

Following ‘Avengers: Endgame’ the dissolution of the Avengers combined with the huge uptick in the population and displacement of citizens might’ve caused far more street crime that Peter would have to deal with. The remnants of H.Y.D.R.A. might’ve exploited this to gain a foothold upon which to rebuild.*** That might’ve warrant an appearance from more grounded heroes like Hawkeye or Ant-Man

An environment like this could’ve been exploited by Quentin Beck to frame Spider-Man, exploiting his already shaky public reputation and make himself look more appealing by contrast

Or Hell just do ‘Nothing Can Stop the Juggernaut’ but with the Hulk as Roger Stern planned to do in the first place

I’m sure many of you could suggest infinitely better ideas.

In conclusion, no matter how you slice it, there were better options than rendering Peter Parker Iron Man Junior instead of Spider-Man.

*Peter, as depicted in ‘Captain America: Civil War’ was clearly not well off financially, yet consequent depictions of Peter in the MCU have de-emphasized this to the point where you could argue they are very probably not working class anymore.

This makes sense internally as a billionaire Tony Stark has no reason to take Peter under his wing but allow him to still dumpster dive for equipment. Giving the boy at least some modest financial stability would be a logical step in building a relationship with him and giving him more time and energy to put into his scientific and heroic pursuits.

Whilst I don’t exactly agree with everything said here, this post dives into the subject more deeply.

**And even if it was, if the context demands Peter be rendered so unrecognizable then maybe it was just creatively reductive to integrate him into the MCU the first place.

***They have after all had connections to organized crime in the comics.

[agentnico]

WandaVision (2021) Review

I’m sorry but someone needs to address the elephant in the room - if Wanda and Vision are in a relationship, does that mean Vision - a robot - has a penis? Look, I cannot be the only one thinking this, right? Right??

Plot: Living idealized suburban lives, super-powered beings Wanda and Vision begin to suspect that everything is not as it seems.

So Marvel’s first Disney+ series has reached its finale, and I’m certain many fans will be left disappointed due to all the outlandish rumours and theories that the fanbase are known to come up with not coming to fruition, but I personally admire this show for sticking true to its guns by being something that is very different compared to anything that Marvel has done before. Well, mostly. When its different, its hugely different, however when it gets to the usual MCU antics its pretty generic Marvel.

At the beginning the show left a lot of audiences scratching their heads as to what was going, as in the first few episodes especially there isn’t much of a plot per se, and instead we are taken through the various stages of American TV sitcoms, starting with the black and white old-school The Dick Van Dyke Show styled format, with the first episode going as far as being filmed in front of a live audience just like they would’ve back in those olden days.....at least that’s what history tells us happened back in those days, honestly take that with a grain of salt as I wasn’t even alive back in the 60s so for all I know history is a massive conspiracy and all of this is a massive pile of tosh! But setting deceitful plot schemes, supposedly everyone back in the 60′s were black and white and there was no colour in the world... okay, I’m kidding, I’m not that stupid, but I digress. As I was saying before I rudely interrupted myself, we are taken through various phases of American tele-sitcoms and eventually entering into the usual MCU territory. What works at the beginning of the series is the way it pays homage to those sitcoms back in the day, and I’m certain there was a lot fun has on set by the production designers recreating visual look of those old shows and also with the actors biting into every opportunity of playing up to acting style that was used back then, with the winks to the camera and the purposeful pauses as they wait for the laugh track to die down, or there’s an episode akin to Modern Family and The Office where our stars act as if they’re in a mockumentary and even answer questions to the camera to great comedic effect. 

In between this sitcom format we constantly get little clues and teases towards what may actually be going, and there is this sense of constant mystery that really motivates you to get excited for the next episode (as Disney+ releases their shows one episode per week) and as such WandaVision turned out the be very exciting simply from trying to come up with the most out-there theories of what’s to come. And it seems like the showrunners were fully aware of this by playing up to the fanbase by ending episodes on massive cliff-hangers (people who have seen this series can now easily agree with me that “Please Stand By” is an even bigger Marvel villain than Thanos!) as well as featuring certain surprises and appearances that suggest much bigger plans for the Marvel Cinematic Universe as a whole, so to be fair this show really felt good simply from the anticipation factor and the discussion that it built among audiences. Naturally with huge anticipation it’s difficult to then fulfil that promise, and as such to the second half of the series where the show goes full Marvel on us, we do kind of get stuck in more mediocre territory, with the final episode especially serving some disappointment by ending with the typical generic Marvel superhero battle we’ve all come to expect at this point. In other words, WandaVision comes off a tad anti-climactic at the end, but its the journey that makes it worthwhile.

Typically to most Marvel projects, you can expect the cast to be great, and here in WandaVision that’s the same case. Elizabeth Olsen and Paul Bettany are both stellar as Wanda and Vision, and first and foremost this show is about their romance and their love, and gosh aren’t them two just the biggest lovebirds! So adorable with only me and my girlfriend offering competition as the more gushier and sickly cheesy couple! Hey, we’re cheesy and proud, that’s all I’m saying!!! Anyway, the show is mainly about Olsen and her character’s grief and evolution, and Olsen proves her chops as a leading lady and I’m really looking forward to seeing what she’ll get up to in the Doctor Strange sequel. Bettany is both innocent yet smooth as her robotic boyfriend, and basically proves that if you want to get with one of the Olsen sisters, you have to accept every single chip that Bill Gates sends you to have a shot. We also see the return of a couple other MCU side characters, with Kat Dennings and Randall Park returning as Darcy and Jimmy Woo and to be honest WandaVision gives these characters proper justice. Kat Dennings in the Thor films always came off more annoying rather than funny, yet here on the show her character is both useful and her humour is sarcastic yet funny. And Jimmy Woo in the Ant-Man & the Wasp was stuck in the stereotype of the goofy FBI agent who is stupid and oblivious to everything, however here you can tell his character has become more wiser and better at his job, yet still with the wit and charm that Randall Park usually provides (and he’s the learnt the card trick from Ant-Man!!). We also have Teyonah Parris appearing as grown up Monica Rambeau who we saw as a young girl in Captain Marvel, and Parris is quite pleasant and does well with what she has, but I’m hoping she gets to have more interesting material to work with in the future Marvel projects she appears in. Then there is Kathryn Hahn as the mysterious nosy neighbour character, and though I don’t want to spoil anything about her role, I’ll say that Hahn gets to overact her face off and also gets a fun musical at one point that is annoyingly catchy!

WandaVision is a great sign showing Marvel attempting to branch out and go to new and different places, however with its ending it still proves that they need to learn how to break away from the repetitive formula they have gotten themselves stuck in. All we need is Deadpool proclaiming “Big CGI fight coming up!”

Overall score: 7/10

[captainkurosolaire]

Destined ‘X’ Forever

“Ye wouldn’t b’ doin’ anything that’d take a special kind ov’ stupid now would ya’ ma’ Lord?” A cheeky rattle hit in a echo of the barren Ruins. For all intended reasoning's this wasn’t a planned encounter. Last he saw his Noble other halve was after attempting to salve some helpful advice to put him in a discovery. Though what the amber optic witnessed was anything but the type of discovery he meant. The pirate meant from the self. This was someone who couldn’t move on. Didn’t know how. This is hurt. He had been there, embraced it, and the result damaged him past the point of repair a self-searing that he still hadn’t entirely resolved. And forever because he couldn’t contain or control his heartbreak he discredited and discarded it. Letting it coal until he lost himself and a savage feasted on his homed temple. A severance between souls. A path to nefarious and damaging for anything that crossed was a clear future for Elune. If he paid the price and fed that side of demonizing that festered in all thing’s in varied degrees of morality. He would become consumed with dangerous and devastating levels that may scar him in irrecoverably.

                   “I..hate..you.” Muttered off breath before turning to face and direct to ensure this was more personal his regality was cracking he was so shortly an ilm away from being granted his wishful desire by utilizing a forbidden relic that protruded a hint of Mhachi. However, by activating this, It’d cost his last remaining dignity, his humanity he akin to most chose to run from it thinking and disassociating it as ‘weakness’ for the appearance and value it often represented no-good. He was possessed and consumed with the empty. That hollow part of losing a piece that stabled and made you feel wholly, he had forgotten what living was like without it after a sip. Without something to protect to be any meaning, he found himself misplaced. Knights didn’t exist without their duties or their morals to wage crusades in belief or service; they were dull like any Samurai in the obligated swords sworn after they slew their intended advisory it was weightless and immeasurable. None of that crossed his mind that once was recognized and pristine for being intelligent, all other forms living or to be sacrificed were insignificant, they could all be shriveled and pay the price even if it brought utter devastation and internal turmoil to that which he so starved to have returned to him. This resentment stood beyond even their current vessel’s their souls were entwined to contest. Negatives and positives. “I hate you. I hate everything about you, your stupid hat, your trashy ingrate demeanor. All of it! Hate is my sum for you.. You--- you’re, why I am here in this position. You cost me, my world! If you weren’t such an irritating blight, I would’ve never lost control… I’d still have them!” Flailing his arms out in the arm like a tampered child throwing his blame. The crystallized air around him howled in chimed ice sang like a banshee as his instability continued. Captain swallowed soft listening before presenting a stepped chortle and follow, “You need a tissue? Or a tampon for yer leakage?” The Seeker fired back as during that entire rant he just nodded his head. “Mate, I’ll b’ straight blunt yer being a bitch. O’ boohoo, ye lost something in your sheltered life, you in your fancy Ishgardian Walls always catered and given and throwing a hissy fit when ye didn’t get something fer Starlight. Your rant is the same shite I’d get from a dozen of stuttering cucks at the Quicksands for me so effortlessly tossing their lass over my shoulder and tending to them from their plagued bore. -Ye hate me? What a crock… Matey you don’t hate me, you just hate yourself. You got caught, ye won a battle but I got in your most prized place -- your head. Fail to understand your performance in our last skirmish saw you ACTING more like a pirate than a noble. Ye can’t get those thoughts ov’ me outta your mind… How naughty.” Tsking with a finger waggle further adding antagonizing fuel with even more expression by holding his chest to shield his exposure in that unnerving smug. “Standing over there and wanting t’ talk about hatred and losses. Ye murdered my near entire crew, ye tried dismantling another. Ye kidnapped my Star Healer and stole her away to fuck who knows where and then n’ your whole, ‘I gotta be th’ Elite White Shining Knight’, ye let her suffer alone and vanish to silence! Ye point and like t’ remind others of their failures, their faults, but conjure a solid mirror with that fancy-dancy magick. Leviathan… I gave ye an ale and I didn’t even charge ye on your last visit t’ my Cabin. I told you…! I warned you…! I did more than enough in my part, so-wait, is this what I’m missing out on sticking around for parenthood? Just sheer disappointment? This was supposed t’ be your discovery, but let me guess, the only thing you figured out in this entire time is that, ‘O I’ve got a dick, so well, I must be one and I’ll damn the rest in my way even the ones I love? Not even factoring their own thoughts? YOU aren’t wanted back. There’s isn’t any riveting other reasoning why they discarded themselves from you.” He unleashed every form of his smash-mouth and laid out the crass even if overkill. Thick skulls often were swelled in ego and ego was born often of entitled never spoken against, here enters the brazen. All the while Shiro’s fist rattled and quenched his inner demonic price for all his sin’s and wrongs began transforming and corrupting his veins, his roots that stemmed inside became a grotesque green. “Enough! What does the pirate know of actual loss and pain? You are thieves, takers, you’re scum. Compassion and your kind don’t mix, nor does it exist. Use everything and leave, you can’t even remain devoted to a single solitary thing. Always roaming without purpose to the next big thing for your greed. Making every little detail’s about yourself. Do not forget, I met your crew… None of them are innocent. It didn’t matter which you led. They were all heathens. Neither of them could listen to their betters. They didn’t respect anyone outside you, and when you were missing and disappeared on your so-called ‘shipwreck’ those who salvaged and carried your flag paid your price. You brought them into a War against a literal Sea Empire. None of them were equipped or readied. And without me, they would’ve all been slaughtered maggots. They even wanted to kill each other and decapitate the latter to get some heroic favors or get into the panties of your ‘woman’ you led only a cult of unwashed stains. Threatening like the barbarians you raised to even lash out at my sister because her own heart was on the opposing side. Who even was brainwashed and used as another pawn on the board though despite that fact their inbreed tribal and unorthodox wild crew of yours was but the essence of chaos. You mere peasants outside the Pillars and the arrogance you bestow, are far grander than anything we harbor.” Now it was the Keeper’s turn to verbally unleash a hailstorm. They bickered like an old couple cover many generations of grudges. Building their resentments and hatred until… that moment where there wasn’t going any back and one swung. The words actually began rattling against the Captain’s inner instincts and primal urges. For his own bonded knot was mentioned and brought up. The tone of Shiro’s higher ‘superiority’ shout echoed against the blank and outdoor ruins in a condense clap. Was steering and disturbing a slumber that snarled, his complexion became more heated. Irregular and unnatural... The scoundrel’s blood began surging. Weapons in War only ever are mentioned what was used to quell or the materialistic solution. Never in mentioning how any War or Battle began. Often originated from disputes. The contesting of disagreement is what drew first-blood before any sharp dared part flesh from. “What th’ seventh hell did ye say?” The ruffian stepped in closer even against biting and foreboding chills. A vein vessel popping out of his forehead. Shiro’s visage turned to a dastardly and deviled one impractical aetherial horn’s started to lowly form on his temple. “Many things and all I assure you, I mean them all. Your crew was worthless they lapped up and swam under your dirty seawater. You a Captain? A joke, your, -kind- don’t have admirable emotions or hearts, you are written as heartless and crude as you’ll always be known utter tasteless, savaged buffoons. THAT is your booked cover and shall always be to me and anyone else with somewhat wit.” The Seeker’s steps continuing forward his framework began bulking up hit by a nerve earlier. Every part of Shiro’s weighted words came from a merciless and mean intent. Making every remark sound as categorized and labeled as possible. The first step of all Jailers and those that hide behind anything against the grain or that make them feel even the slightest uncomfortable about the insecurities often came from classification putting a firm distinction between someone else innocently in the cross-hairs to try so desperately to distance themselves and stay on their elevated ladders, artificial thrones above someone. Despite that answer wasn’t what left a sour look on the mug of the rugged slicker those didn’t seem to be what triggered him.    “No, the other.”  He corrected calmly his stance seemed like a preparing lunge.

Shiro knew all too well what he said and brought a gleeful sinister grin to further elaborate the struck cord. “Ah right, the pathetic and high-excuse of a complex woma--” Right before he could finish that deplorable remark. The Blackguard used a rash Ghost Step (Shukuchi) to close in and lob for a full-force spinning roundhouse.   (Previous)  — /References/ —   ♫ ‘Invincible ♫ — (Next Page)

[the-unconquered-queen]

Please I wanna know more about your thoughts on Dan x mc relationship. I know its been age since ILITW ended but this is a hill I will die on. Like, I didn't romance anyone else on this book. If I couldn't have him then I didn't want anybody else, 🤧

oKAY, we’re going for it

This is the first time I’ve ever put an answer to an ask under a read more. That should really tell you something about me and about what you’re about to be subjected to.

I would like to start this off by saying that I couldn’t care less about when it ended because it is ALWAYS It Lives hours on my blog and that’s never gonna change. But let’s get into this:

I completely understand why Dan wasn’t an LI. It’s not the same case as with, say, Noah, who’s such a prominent character in the book they could’ve easily added him. Even though Dan’s influence is strong in the series - seeing how his absence brought the group together when they worked to save him - the actual Dan was in a coma for a sizable portion of the book, which would’ve frustrated his romancers to no end. This is why if you look up fan made Dan x MC content, most of it takes place after the events of the book (not including the epilogue), not during them, because at that point, there wasn’t much to go on.

I think that if ILitW had had a sequel that wasn’t an anthology, so a second book with the same MC focused on the same group (which obviously can’t happen because of all the possible combinations of deceased/survivors in book 1), Dan could’ve been made an actual LI in that second book, or maybe players would’ve gotten the first romantic dialogue at the end of book 1 if PB knew they were gonna commit to giving him a route in the sequel. The seeds are all there in the first book, from how close they were in their backstory to how that closeness seemed to linger ten years later even though they’d barely spoken during that time. Dan admitted to never talking to people about his struggles because he was worried people would think differently of him, but with a little bit of encouragement from MC, he opened up to them, which shows a very strong bond between them, which could easily turn romantic in his hypothetical route. I mean, he’d known Stacy for as long as he’d known MC, had interacted more with her since she was the only one who kept in touch with him out of the group and was concerned about his well-being, and yet it was MC he trusted with his feelings.

Also, like I said earlier, the way he spoke of them when they were kids in his scene suggests (to me, at least) that, after Jane, Dan was the one MC was closest to out of everyone in the group. And when, after not speaking to MC for ages, they show up at the orientation he’s attending and tell him they went solely because they knew he’d be there and they missed him, he thought they were joking, but was genuinely happy when they told him they were serious because he felt the same way, which shows that even though they had a falling out that lasted a decade, they easily fell back into a familiar friendly rhythm after just a minute together. Now, as much as I love this ship, I’m not really entirely sold on the idea of Dan having had a crush on MC since they were eight and having it last well into their senior year of high school, but I believe that their easy bond would’ve been a major factor in him developing that crush, and maybe it would’ve already existed by the time the orientation scene took place, only strengthening when they got to actually spend time together when they properly reunited.

But giving it some thought, I doubt he and MC would be a couple right away. I mean, Dan’s been through a lot, and he probably wouldn’t be in the right place to be in a relationship as soon as everything ended, even if he started healing after what happened in the cave. It’s possible that he and MC would’ve mutually acknowledged their feelings to each other so they’d know they were reciprocated but not actually acting on them for a while, just until Dan feels like he’s in a better place to do the relationship and get it right, because I can’t imagine him disregarding that just because he wants to be with MC so bad and then the relationship falling apart because it was too soon, too hasty, and MC would for sure understand that they’d need to take their time to make it work out. 

I feel like even before they got together, MC would be good at reading Dan’s moods when he has off days, knowing when he needs company or someone to talk to and when he just needs space, and they don’t take offense to Dan not being in the mood to talk sometimes because they’d understand that even though Redfield is gone, that doesn’t mean that he’d just go back to what he was like before the PTSD and everything else happened. Dan does the same in return, since he knows MC went through more than their fair share of bad stuff, but he’d also have to learn to navigate that, like I said in my other ask, there would be times when MC might wake up from a nightmare and he’d try to comfort them and find that MC somehow looks even more freaked out and then it dawns on him that MC might be having a flashback of when a dirt monster wore his face in their room and he’d have to talk them down and tell them it’s him.

Moving AWAY FROM THE ANSGT, an established, dating Dan and MC would be such a cute couple. If it happened in-game, the “define the relationship” talk would end with them kissing while the overhead achievement banner reads “Dynamic Duo” (guess why). I feel like it would be a chill relationship in the sense that they didn’t go straight from acquaintances to lovers, since they had a lot of history together being friends for a long time before dating, so they’d be so at ease with each other’s presence and so used to it that they wouldn’t need to be like some of the couples in their high school who’d need to always have their hands all over each other or constantly making out for you to tell they’re in love, because they could do the most low-key stuff and still be happy together.

They’re probably actual relationship goals. Dan would make such a caring boyfriend, always making small gestures that make MC smile, a real Pinterest-type boyfriend. You ever see those pictures of football players running to kiss their partners on the stands? Yeah, that’d be him, because you know MC would show up to every single game and be his personal cheerleader.

MC would probably get along well with Dan’s parents, too, since I bet his mom would be really grateful that Dan’s got someone close to him he can open up to and who makes him so happy. He and MC would probably have stay-in dates where they just cuddle up close and watch Star Trek while Dan’s cat is curled up and purring between them, and Dan’s mom probably makes them mac and cheese because MC missed her cooking from when they would all go to the Pierces’ for lunch. And when they do their stay-in dates at MC’s place instead, MC always pretends to get upset when their cat wants to be on Dan’s lap instead of theirs, but really they love it because, hello, cute boy being cute with animals? They fall deeper in love with him every time. Also, imagine some time later, MC and Dan’s cats having kittens and then they’re trying to co-parent a couple of furry little babies. No, seriously, imagine Dan sitting on the floor while a bunch of tiny kittens try to climb all over him. Get that mental image in there.

At this point I have written a lot about how much I love Dan and I am fully aware that I’m rambling BUT I JUST THOUGHT OF MORE. Okay, you know the iconic Dan x MC Captain Incredible team up? Imagine Dan and MC slaying every single couples’ costume contest ever. They coordinate that stuff so well that they just own Halloween and nobody stands a chance. I mean, I did say they were goals, didn’t I?

And then of course there’s MC being so completely supportive of him when he starts seriously thinking about pursuing psychology as a career to help people cope with trauma. I mean, they know how complicated his own journey was and they are so proud of him for choosing to dedicate his life to that, since his caring nature is one of their favorite things about him. They probably help him prepare for his exams by setting up study dates to keep him motivated and working so he can make his career happen, and he’s just as supportive when it comes to whatever MC chooses to do.

Oookay, not that I don’t have lots of feelings about this, you know, ‘cause I really just went on and on about how I feel about Dan off the top of my head without any organization whatsoever, but I deadass thought “hey, this is a very long response” and put it through a word count and it is, no joke, over 1.4k words, so I really should stop talking now because people are gonna forget that my brand was supposed to be stanning Andy x MC, but the gist of it is Dan x MC is an amazing pairing, even it It Lives in the Woods didn’t explore the romantic potential there.

[50shadesofmittens]

So this is the previous Rapunzel-inspired thing, but edited. I decided not to put it on ao3, so you lot get it here. Enjoy.

//////////////////////////////////////

At the base of the silver Tower, on the back of a rented camel, one lone Custodian disguised as a mutant Tzeentch worshipper (read: wearing a paper-mache mask over his helmet and a T-shirt over his armor that proclaims “I <3 Change”) sat planning the next step of his daring assault.

Then a red lasso grabs him and yanks him up to the highest floor, in through a hole in the liquid-solid walls that closes as soon as the Custodian is deposited on the floors.

“Are you absolutely, completely, burn-your-soul-out, bugger-all to fuck-world and back insane?”

“Nice to see you too, Magnus.” The Custodian groaned as he got up from the floor.

“Do you realize what will happen if even a single daemon finds you here? I’ve found you here! Tzeentch has to know by now, and if you’re still here that means this is all one of his ‘plans.’ Probably to end with your humiliating death or corruption!”

“Was that a hair-lasso you grabbed me with?”

“Don’t change the subject! And yes, shapeshifting is the easiest spell for me to cast if I don’t want to be seen.” Magnus replied, his hair rapidly shortening back to its usual length. “Not that it works completely- there are some forces which can, if they/she/it/whatever the squid is right now choose so, can see everything I see. And since I’m on probation/house arrest, again, I’m being watched fairly closely right now.

“Which would be obvious to anyone or moderate intelligence who thought things through for more than thirty seconds, and I know you’re well beyond moderate intelligence, so we’re back to the ‘insane’ theory. Gods only know what disasters might’ve already been put in motion just from you coming here- and Gods knowing is exactly the problem.”

The Custodian sighed. “Rest assured, I do have a plan. A very… flexible one, yes, but I didn’t just come in, guns blazing. And if needs be I can throw it out the window and work with what I have to improvise. You know I can.”

Magnus shook his head. “That’s exactly what I’m worried about. This place, and everyone on it, belongs to the lord of plans- whatever you have in mind, he’s already well aware of. So if we’re going to get you off planet alive-”

“We’re not leaving the planet.” Magnus startled as the Custodian continued, “We’re staying here, and taking this planet out of the Warp.”

“And I’m now reverting to my original theory: you have gone completely mental.” Magnus barked out a laugh. “I should’ve known when you thought it was a good idea to come out here, alone, with just yourself and- was that a camel?”

“Right behind you.” Sure enough, the camel had followed its rider up the tower. This rider gave her many head-pats and good oat snacks. She liked head-pats.

“The fuck- how did that thing even get in here? Without exploding?”

“According to the sales pitch, she’s a specially commissioned used camel with warp-terrain capabilities and double-Primarch capacity.” The Custodian shrugged. “If that makes any sense to you then you understand her better than I do. I have no clue what she’s capable of.”

Magnus shook his head. “Never mind. The point is, you have to go, before whatever scheme you have in mind gets too complicated for me to pull you out.”

“And what if sending me away is the scheme? Hm?” The Custodian shrugged. “It’s not like you can prepare for every plan Tz- that one has. Weren’t you the one who decided that it was better to just work with what we had, than to think too hard about how to win?”

“That was a very different scenario. Besides which, I’m not trying to win- I’m just trying to get by. For now,” Magnus added hastily, “once I’m in a better position I can-”

“Stop. Just- before you tell me what your long-term goals, are tell me this: how do you plan to get into this ‘better position’ in the first place?”

“I’ll work with what I have, exactly what you yourself just said you planned to do!”

“So, what, Tzeentch mentions he wants this subsector conquered, you work on it, get further into his good graces, and just keep going until he’ll let you be free?” The Custodian shook his head. “We both know it’s not going to work like that.”

“I don’t expect my privileges to go that far. I just need enough leeway to make things… better.”

“You’re mixing your goals up. You’re planning too far ahead where you should be thinking about the now, and you make your immediate plans where you should be thinking about the long-term.”

“At least I’m doing something.” Magnus snapped. “Isn’t that enough? I used to just wait, wait, wait, planning every step and making every choice based on a thousand pre-existing factors, until I got too lost in my own head. You helped me break out of that- and I’m grateful, really, I am. I’m so, so glad I met you.

“But please,” and Magnus took the Custodian’s gauntlets into his own hands, “don’t destroy yourself trying to save me. You already have- in more ways than you’ll ever know. If I’m to live with the memories of you as my guide, don’t make one of those memories be your death. That’s not how I want to repay you.

“Go home, [R E D A C T E D]. The other Custodes need their Captain General, and the Imperium needs its leader. Don’t throw all that you’ve accomplished away. I’m not worth it.”

“I’d debate you on several of those points,” the Captain General said, “but for now, I’ll settle on this question: are your sons worth it? Are your people?”

“Don’t.” Magnus pulled away, and he turned away. “Don’t ask that. You don’t tell me to choose- between the one thing that’s led me to be someone I’m proud to be and the duty that I’ve only just really started to love again.”

“You love them?”

Magnus hesitated, but he nodded. “Ever since I got back, I keep seeing all the amazing things I knew before but kept missing or mistaking for something worse. ‘We humans have a peculiar ability to turn the worst, stupidest dystopian situation into stuff we can laugh grimly at, I appreciate that.’”

“Quote from the-nothing-maker, early second millennium assorted internet. Volume, Tumblr.” The Captain General said, “I read you that one.”

“You use my words against me, I use your quotes against you.” Magnus said, though there was no bite in his words. “You know, in the few times I haven’t been alone here, everyone keeps telling me you’re the bad guy. That you were tricking me into neglecting my kingdom so it’d fall into disarray, or were going to tell me to burn it all down so we could start over later.” Magnus sniffed. “It’s all rubbish. There might’ve been some downturns while I was gone, but the working infrastructure hasn’t exactly collapsed without me. Which is more than most daemon planets could say. Besides which, it’s not like I’ve been doing much governing since I got back.

“And when I see you again the first offer you make is to save the planet- though if you were a daemon or another Tz-“ The Captain General made a loud noise of protest to keep Magnus from saying the whole name, “-follower, I could believe that it’s some plan to destroy the planet, but… that’s not you. That’s the farthest thing from you. That’s why I- I can’t sit by while you’re destroyed.”

“That’s not-”

“No just-” Magnus swallowed hard and looked the Captain General in the eye. “Just listen to me. Please. Let me finish.

“It- it’s crazy but… if I died there would be another war, big fucking whoop it must be Tuesday, but… if you died, I think the galaxy would become a little colder. Because every time I look at you and try to decipher what sort of man you are, I find something wonderful there. Every time. And you can be petty, hypocritical, and cowardly, but even when you are those things that… kindness, that spark that makes you shine is still there. It doesn’t shine consistently, but it never vanishes completely. And… there’s nothing else I’ve seen or heard of in this galaxy that can match that. Not the Gods, not my Father, and certainly not me.”

“Magnus…” Against the speaker’s intentions, the word came out as a whisper.

“I know you still think, somewhere deep down, that you’re not worth it, or that you could be replaced. But I’m telling you, you can’t.”

“Magnus.” The Captain General said, louder now, but something scratchy in his voice as though he was holding back tears. “I didn’t come here to die. I know you think- that the place you’re in and the person you are makes it impossible to get out but- you keep forgetting one key thing, in the way it most counts. Who you are.

“You’re the person who saved hundreds of thousands of entire civilizations worth of culture and history- through negotiation and diplomacy, and just giving them respect. If it wasn’t you, someone else would’ve done it, and they wouldn’t have been anywhere near as kind. We both know by now that the kindest thing would’ve been to have left the galaxy alone, but that wasn’t gonna happen, so you made it happen your way. No matter what anyone else said, or did, or how they mocked you for it- you did what you thought was right. Just like in the Heresy, your sons were kept from the war because you fought back against the poison in your soul, and kept them as far from the madness as you could.

“You’ve done a lot of evil, you wouldn’t believe me if I told you otherwise and I’m never going to lie to you about that, but you’ve got a lot of drive to do good- and you’ve done a lot of good, over and over, from the moment you got the chance. What you did for me, during [REDACTED INCIDENT]

“[REDACTED INCIDENT]

“[REDACTED INC-] But you showed me that you want to go farther- and you are going farther, from the twisted paths that came before. You managed to hold out longer than any of your brothers (exceptmaybeMortarionI’mnotclearonthetimeline) when it came to corruption.”

“You...” Magnus said, with a small smile, “are the only person in the galaxy who truly believes that intentions have any value.”

“Maybe that’s because the galaxy doesn’t value people’s hearts enough. That life is so disposable nobody bothers trying to help the hurting. I think that’s bullshit. And Magnus, you stood up with me against the indecisive squid once before, and with your help I won. Now, I’m asking you to stand with me once again.

“Please.” The Captain General held out his hand, “trust me?”

And Magnus closed his eye, sighed deeply, shook his head, opened his eye, then reached out and took his hand. “Okay.” He said, voice breaking, “Okay. What must I do?”