#blue really shot her shot out of nowhere you have to respect it

[thefanficmonster]

Power Couple

Corpse Husband x Reader (Female)

Warnings: Swearing 

Genre: Fluff, Humor

Summary: Sean, Felix, Dave, and Joel welcome Corpse’s girlfriend to a game of Party Animals. It’s her first time playing and she has to deal with a lot more than just the controls and objectives - her boyfriend being a cute, cuddly sweetheart with ulterior motives to his clinginess.

Requested by @susceptible-but-siriusexual. Thank you so much for your request! Hope I captured what you wanted and how you wanted. Feel free to send any other requests you may have XOXO

It’s been one hell of a day. Had to correct twice as many documents as I was originally supposed to at work; found my car with a flat tire in the parking lot as I was about to go home; argued with my boss over the phone while stuck in a traffic jam. It’s been a rough twelve hours, but it has led me here and that’s what I’d rather think about.

By ‘here’ I mean I’m sitting on the couch in Corpse’s recording room, my computer in my lap, my screen displaying the screen to the game Party Animals. The suggestion was Corpse’s. He immediately picked up on my below par mood and wasted no time finding a solution to bright up the remainder of the day, shadowing the shitty portion of it. I am not what you would call a gamer. Sure I’ve played Among Us with Corpse and his friends a few times. Even that I struggle to do because I’m internally fangirling over all the people in the lobby. Yeah, dating a youtuber doesn’t mean you automatically stop gushing over the many content creators on the platform you’ve been watching for quite some time now. Corpse knows how nervous I get so he’s always near me when we play with Sean, Felix and the other. All he has to do is give me that encouraging smile and wink of his and I’m good to go. Side note: massive props to him for going easy on me in Among Us, getting teasingly called ‘simp’ by his friends in the process.

“You’ll love it.“ He promised me over and over again as the game was downloading on my computer.

“I don’t doubt that, Corpse. But I am going in completely blind and I seriously don’t wanna embarrass myself.“ I mumble a quick ‘nor you‘ under my breath, hoping he doesn’t catch it because I’m in for a pep talk if he does. 

To my dismay, he does, “Listen here, you couldn’t embarrass me even if you actively tried to do something outrageous. Most likely scenario, I’d join you in the act.” He ducks in front of the couch so we’re at eye level, his hand coming up to cup my cheek in the sweetest, most comforting gesture ever. “We’ll show em who’s the boss at stealing candy.”

I can’t help but laugh, feeling unable to express just how much this man means to me. Words can’t do the feeling justice.

“Y/N!“

“Y/N!!“

“Corpse Wife has arrived!“

Hearing all the greetings lights a flame in my chest, the warmth spreading all the way to my neck and cheeks. “Hi guys! Missed playing with you!”

“We missed you too!“ Dave, the only one of the gaming gang I’ve actually met in person, replies to me, his words along with all the others’ wrapping around me like a comfort blanket. Despite them knowing I’m a fan of theirs, they’ve always made me feel welcomed, comfortable, nothing less than them.

“You know anything about this game?“ Felix asks me.

I shake my head, almost forgetting he can’t see me, “Corpse told me it’s funny and cute. It sounds like the perfect game for me.” 

“Oh no, this is a game of survival. Survival of the fittest!“ Sean shouts excitedly, a bang following his shout I can only assume was him hitting his desk.

“I’d like to think I’m pretty fit.“ I shrug my shoulders, laughing along with the guys.

“This is the only way to find out if you actually are.“ Joel’s voice comes through my headphones in the form of a tease.

Sean mumbles quietly to himself as he’s deciding how to separate us in two teams. “Guys, a little help here. We all suck at this game, it doesn’t really matter who’s in which team.”

“Actually...“ Felix trails off, “Corpse and Y/N are the ultimate power couple in Among Us. Chances are they will be in this as well. So, the only logical move would be to...“

“I’m taking Y/N, you take Corpse.“ Sean declares. “Joel, Dave, who do you guys wanna be with?“

And the game starts. Sean, Joel and I are the Meowfia while Corpse, Felix and Dave are yet to choose a team name. We throw around snarky, cocky comments at each other, taunting the opposite team as we struggle to take the candy to our respective sides of the map.

“Don’t you dare pull that lever, Dave!“ I launch at Dave, knocking his cute avatar away from the lever, buying Joel and Sean some time to steal back the gummy bear Corpse and Felix took from us.

“Y/N! Joel is out! Help me!“ Sean is freaking out now. I ditch Dave’s unconscious body and run to Sean’s aid. 

As I’m helping him push it towards out area a member from the opposite team latches onto my avatar, weighing me down and hindering me from doing anything.

“Hug!“ Corpse laughs as he has literally turned into a koala, holding onto my avatar.

“Corpse, you know you are actually supposed to hinder Y/N, not hug her. It’s cute though, don’t get me wrong.“ Felix laughs as him and Sean continue to struggle over the gummy bear.

“Nah, his tactic’s great. I can’t do shit.“ I desperately try and shake him off, “Babe, this is unfair. I can’t even be mad at you!“ I whine, staring to panic now that Dave is back to life and Joel is nowhere to be seen.

The round is won by Felix, Dave and Corpse who, if I might add, didn’t let go of me for the rest of the game.

We switch maps, now every man for himself. We’re on the submarine, recreating the Hunger Games with cute fuzzy animals. The thought passes through my mind, causing me to giggle.

“Y/N, you sound exactly like I’d imagine your avatar to sound. You’re so cute.“ Sean’s avatar circles mine a few times as he laughs.

He’s not wrong, my pale blue puppy is indeed cute. Apparently immortal as well.

“How is Y/N still alive?! Holy shit, her and Corpse really are a power couple.“ Dave shrieks when he sees me pick up the freeze gun. “NOOO!“ He shouts, devastated by the fact I shot him, sending him straight to his death.

“Chill, Dave. It’s all cool. Nothing personal.“ I struggle to hide my laughter, “No hard feelings, right?“

“Of course not, love.“ I can tell he grits the sentence through clenched teeth.

“Aw Dave, you are such an ice guy.“ I giggle, now shooting Joel with the gun.

“Someone take that gun from her!“ Sean cries as him and Felix race up the submarine.

Suddenly, the avatar of my boyfriend again wraps itself around mine. I hadn’t seen him in a while, considering Sean knocked him into the ocean earlier in the round. 

“How are you still alive?!“ I try to spin my puppy to get him to let go but he holds on tightly. “Babe, I swear, you are cute and I love you, but this is ridiculous. How and why are you alive?”

“That’s his superpower! He never fucking dies.“ Felix laughs, letting out a yelp when he briefly slips while climbing.

“Immortals!!! Immortals!!!“ Sean breaks out into a song, a song I really like, breaking the restraints I had on my laughter.

“Drop the gun or we’re dying together.“ He says almost seriously. Even though I can only see the back of his head I know he’s grinning.

“A Titanic/Romeo and Juliet mashup? Why not? I can live with dying a double historical death.“ Even though I appear accepting of his offer, I’m still trying to set myself free.

In the end, Sean claims his first win of the game and the rest of us are dead at the bottom of the ocean. Corpse and I did indeed die a Romeo and Juliet/Titanic death, getting everyone in their feels. We make a deal to get together and play again as soon as possible and we all go our separate ways, exiting the Discord call.

*Later that night* 

After a dinner consisting of takeout and two thirds of a shitty romantic comedies, Corpse shifts from next to me, starting to get up from the couch. I am surprised to feel jolted out of a half sleep as the room is now completely silent, the TV being turned off.

“Hey where’re you going?“ I ask groggily, rubbing my sleepy eyes.

“I have some editing to do. Don’t worry, I won’t stay up too late.“ He kisses my forehead before grabbing his phone from the coffee table.

Just as he’s about to walk away, I wrap my arms around his legs. He laughs, catching onto what I’m insinuating. His chuckle brings a smile to my face and butterflies in my belly. No matter how long we date for or how much time we spend together, some things never change. 

“Payback, huh?“ He asks, the smile audible in the question. I keep my eyes shut but nod, my arms still around his legs. “Alright, you koala. You’re coming with me.”

In his recording room, he settles in his chair placing me in his lap in a way that my legs dangling off to the side, my side leaning against his chest, my face hidden in the crook of his neck. We’re both comfortable, content and relaxed.

I don’t know when exactly it happens, but all my mind has registered is a quiet ‘I love you’ and the soft touch of Corpse’s lips on my temple. I manage to reply with an ‘I love you too’ before my sleepiness consumes me, my body completely relaxing against his, the warmth of his body, his scent, the sound of his breathing making me feel safe and loved: the two feelings I want him to feel with the same intensity when I’m in his arms.

Something tells me he does.

@simonsbluee  @save-the-sky  @hacker-ghost  @itsminniekat  @bi-andready-tocry  @imtiredaffff  @jazzkaurtheglorious  @hereforbeebo  @fandomgirl17 @chrysanthykios  @annshit @i-cant-choose-a-username-help

[libraford]

The short version: We had a serial thief at the flower shop. She’s retired recently and I think that due to Covid she really means it this time. 

The long version? hoooo boy, here we go.

This story, and others, are viewable on Tablo

There are rules and there are rules.

In dealing with shoplifting in retail, there are rules on how one engages with a thief. The handbook, if there were one, would consist of a single word. 

Don't. 

Don't pursue, don't interrogate, don't accuse. Let them take the merchandise, let them get away. Let them return the Cricut machine for an equivalent amount on a gift card to be exchanged once again for drugs. 

Let them. 

There is no handbook on how to handle Flower Thieves. Prior to working in a flower shop, I never thought that this was a problem. 

Life is surprising. 

 I'm sure some of you have figured that out by now. 

The Flower Thief is notorious, and she has a system. There are days when you simply know that she's going to be in. 

"Break the heads off the flowers before you throw them away," Grandpa will say. "She's going to be here tonight, I think." 

And sure enough, she would be. At 6:45, a quarter til we close- the Thief would announce her arrival. Loudly. 

"Heeeeey, baaaaaaby!" 

The very first time I encountered the Flower Thief, she came in through the back door. 

"Oh Hiiiii, Darlin'- ain't seen your face around here: you must be NEW! I'm Wren, you know- like the bird? Well, Kyle and I have an agreement that I come and work for y'all sometimes. You should take out this trash, it stinks to high heaven. Anyways, nice talkin' to ya, see ya later." 

I may only be a little bit psychic, but I've spent enough time around liars to know insincerity when I see it. Kyle, at the time, was the manager of our store and I have it on record that he's tried to throw her out of the building once or twice. 

While I was taking out the trash, her pile of purchase became so tall it towered over her. I watched Clark massively undercharge her for the sake of getting her to go away. 

She has a pattern.

She comes in during the design classes because she knows that when there's twenty people in the store, there's not enough people to watch her and make sure she's not stealing. "There's a class today," she asks as if it's not literally every Tuesday. "Don't worry I know you all wanna get out of here on time." 

The Flower Thief announces her presence in a grand way and then makes her way to the back to grab a trash bag or an empty box and then proceeds to bury any spare parts she finds in the cooler in the trash bag, hiding them under the things that she's actually buying. 

After that, she checks the garbage cans for things we might have thrown away that will last another three days and stuffs them underneath her other ill-gotten goods. 

Just when you think she's finished, she'll go through her pile of flowers and say: "You know what? I don't need this eucalyptus." And she'll go back into the cooler with it, stuff it in her purse, and walk back to the register. 

And when she's all done being sneaky, she asks one of us to come ring her out. 

This is the part that no one wants to do. Because ringing out the Flower Thief means haggling with the Flower Thief. 

"Oh baaby, you know I don't pay those prices." 

"Oh baaaby, I only pay $19 for roses." 

"Oh baaaaaaaaaby, those carnations were on special." 

She'll talk you down to under $100 with a sob story: 

"Oh baaaaby, you know I'm donating this spray to the family. It's for that woman you know- you know the one. She got herself murdered a couple nights ago? Two children and she was pregnant too! Pregnant! Can you believe it? Who murders someone with child? What's the world coming to? So I need a good discount to make sure we treat this family right because they got a looooong road ahead of them." 

"Oh baaaaaaby, you know this one's for that car crash over on Cleveland Avenue? I hear he was taking care of his dying father himself, so it's such a shame for him to go first like that." 

"Oh baaaaaaaaaaaaaaby, this is for that little boy that shot himself, isn't that sad?" 

Thank you, Sister Mary Loquacious. 

And you nod because you don't want to come off as an uncaring sociopath. And while you're nodding and adjusting the price for her sad, sad consequence and mulling over how good she is for donating to these people in their time of need, she steals some greens from the trash can and sticks them in her bag. 

She hands you crisp $100 bills. You check them and she makes jokes about how she printed them this morning. They're legit. Counterfeiting isn't why she went to prison. 

What she went to prison for was drug trafficking. 

"Do you need some help," you ask, trying to be a good citizen. 

"Oh no, I got it," she insists. "I'll make it in two trips. I'm stronger than I look!" 

And don't you dare get caught looking to see what she put in the bag or she will give you one hell of a lecture. 

By the time all of this has passed, the class will be over and there will two minutes left in the work day. She's spent thirty-seven minutes in the store. Your register is unbalanced because now you don't have enough small bills to balance it and only have one $100 bill to get you through tomorrow. 

And that's why there are rules. 

On occasion, a new person will break the rules not knowing that there's rules. One such occasion was when Clair decided to be helpful. 

"You know what? I don't need this eucalyptus," Wren said. 

"Oh! I'll put it back for you," Clair suggested. And before Wren could protest, it was out of Wren's hands and nowhere near her purse. 

It was mentioned to Sage, who only worked for us one summer, that Wren had failed to pay for something and she immediately chased her out into the street. 

Wren drives very fast. 

If you cross her too many times, she'll make sure you never forget it. One day, she stomped her way in through the front door, angry. 

"You ain't treated me better than a damn THIEF," screamed the Flower Thief. 

Grandpa, who was helping Blue make a wedding bouquet at the time, departed from the desk. "Beg pardon?"

"A thief! You been treating me like a thief ever since they made you manager and I'm sick of it! I see you bringing in your henchmen, following me in the cooler, chasing me down the street. Treat me with some damn respect." 

Words were exchanged. They were not kind. We thought we'd seen the end of her. 

But she was back one week later, doing the same damn thing. 

So now there are rules. 

If you make something and there's an excess of flowers left over from the pack, you have to make something out of the leftovers or she'll pick through them and stuff them in her bag. 

If you cannot make something out of them, you must throw them out. 

If you throw them out, you must break the heads off first. 

The trash cans must be emptied every night before 5:00. 

We do not keep trash bags in plain sight. 

Break down all empty boxes, or she will use them in place of trash bags. 

Do not leave any food or drink where she can find it. 

Do not leave any half-used rolls of floral tape where she can find it. 

Do not let her know anything about you- lest she use it against you. 

If you speak of a Thief, you summon a Thief- speak quietly, and never her name or you invite trouble. 

The basic rules one makes when dealing with pests. Or fairy-folk.

There are rules and there are rules and there are rules. 

If you want to keep a pest away, you make these sorts of rules. But if you want to get rid of a pest indefinitely, you have to remove their food source. And Wren's food source was her discount. 

You start exercising your right to say 'no' to a customer in small ways. 

She saw a bunch of carnations in the trash and said: 

"Oh baby, these are still good! I'll take them off your hands for you!" 

"They've been sitting without water for hours." 

"They're still good!" 

"They were out in the sun." 

"Oh baby, I've been working with flowers for 40 years and I know that these will still be fine for a couple of days!" She picks a bunch of them out of the trash and shoves it in my face. "See, it's still stiff- it's still good!" 

"Okay," I said. And before I could stop myself: "Full price."

Her eyes just about popped out of her skull. If it were just a little bit colder, I would have been able to see steam coming out of her ears. 

We stared at each other for about a minute, waiting for the other to flinch. She took the bunch away from my face and threw them back into the trash. While she was in the cooler, I took the liberty of snapping the heads off of them and burying them further into the garbage. 

And so began a war between the flower shop and the Flower Thief.

She came in: every single night. And each night, she got me. 

Again.

"Oh no, baby! These carns are supposed to be 39 cents a stem. I can bring up the email." 

"Sure." She brings up the email. "I see that they are 39 cents but... this was for Saturday." 

"Yea, and I bought those carns on Saturday and you charged me full price!" 

"Saturday." 

"Yeah." 

"You didn't buy these on Saturday. You bought them Friday." 

"Well I didn't know that they'd be on sale, so I need them for that price because I didn't know they'd be on sale." 

"The sales are one-day only. I can't adjust a sale from Friday to reflect Saturday's sale... on Sunday." 

She made a noise that reminds me somewhat of a cement mixer. 

 And again.

"I got a bad banner last time, can you print me a new one?" She shows me the banner in question. It's white. The 't' and the 'h' in 'mother' ran together. 

"Sure." 

"Okay, I need it to say 'Beloved Mother' and I want it in pink." 

"Sure." 

I print it. I ring her up $5. 

"Oh baaaaaaby, no, that one should be free." 

"Grandpa said- banners start at $5." 

"Oh, but you sold me a bad one last time." 

"We haven't sold you a banner in three weeks. How long have y'all had that body sitting in your cooler?" 

She grumbled, and paid. 

 And again. 

"I swear you been workin' every night this week! You must be tired," she said, nerves plain in her voice. "When do you get a day off?" 

"When the work is done." 

"That ain't what I'm askin'. When's your next day off, baby?"

"I stop working when the work is done, Wren." 

She narrows her eyes, which is a fun change from them bugging out of her skull like a fruit fly. "You don't ever get any days off?" 

"When the work stops, I rest."

 And again. 

"I'll be in and out, I know y'all want to get out of here on time," she said- announcing her presence to the entire class. She piled her stuff across the register counter and Grandpa began ringing her up. 

"Oh baby..." 

"No. We're doing away with the discounts." 

There are twenty people in the workshop for the class and Grandpa doesn't want to make a scene. She pulls her into the back, and I choose to make my instructions louder to mask the sound of them yelling. 

"So you're going to take your hypericum berries and you're going to cut the stem to about ten inches-" 

"How can you do this to me?" 

"And you're going to slowly fill the vase with these berries to kind of set the shape of the arrangement." 

"After all these years and this is how you treat me?" 

"Fun fact- you might know hypericum berries as their more common name: St John's Wort! St. John's Wort has been used as a medication for depression prior to modern medicine." You see- I, too, have taken notes from the Chattering Order.

"You can't do this to me," Wren said, stamping her feet like a toddler.

"But I wouldn't recommend eating them. However, they do smell somewhat like baked brown sugar." 

Stamp, stamp, stamp. 

Wren threw herself into the cooler and began putting a bulk of her flowers back. 

"This is robbery," I heard her say to Grandpa at the register. 

"Is it now?" 

 And again. 

She came in and immediately reached for a half-empty box of oasis bricks (the green sponge material that we use to hold flowers.) She said few words to me, few at all. She talked to Carrie about how she was going out to the country for awhile, to take care of her nephew's property. She needed to stock up. And oh- don't worry about it, she knows what she's doing. She's part of The Family.

She is in no manner of speaking, a member of The Family that owns this shop. Not even a third cousin. 

I saw her beeline for a rose I'd set in the trash. I picked it up, opened my mouth, and bit the head off of it. She stood in the middle of the workshop, absolutely stunned. 

Rose petals have the vague texture of arugula, by the way. Slightly sweeter, though. Tough to swallow in one go. 

She ran back into the cooler and didn't talk to me. 

I began taking down numbers. 

27 bricks of oasis. One pack of roses. Ten calla lilies. 1/2 pack of assorted greens. 

I punched the numbers in to the register. As if sensing something was amiss, she emerged from the cooler. 

"$54? What do I have that's $54?" 

"The oasis. They're $2 each." 

"Oh no baaaaaby, they're $1." 

"I can text Grandpa and ask her." 

"... that won't be necessary. Why are you charging me $22.50 for roses? You know my prices by now!" 

"22.50 is the price for a pack of roses." 

"22.50 is everybody prices." 

"Welcome to 'everybody.'" 

"I ain't paid a price increase in 7 years!" 

"The price of milk went up, Wren. So does everything else." 

She was seeing red, I knew it. There's a vein in her forehead that pops out when she's angry and it's the same shape as the river that runs through my home town. She sized me up, as if wondering if she could take me. 

I'm 256 pounds of 4H beef, and I have a knife. Try me. 

"I'm gonna call Kyle on this." 

"Do it." A lifetime of retail has made me immune to 'I'd like to speak to the manager.' 

She grumbled and put things back. Carrie offered to watch her, I held up my hand. 

"Can you do something for me  on these carns? They're the last pack in there and they're lookin' kinda ratty." 

"9.50." 

"9.50's the regular price." 

"Regular price is $14." 

"No it ain't." 

"Is today. You're taking our last pack and we need those for funerals." 

She put them back. 

She gave me a credit card. It seemed fake, but it ran. Every time I see here, she's got a different card. Did she print this one this morning, too? At least she stopped trying to sell me on Bitcoin. As you can see, it made her incredibly wealthy. 

She gathered her things and left. "Guess I'm getting the rest of my flowers from KROGER!" 

There are things you want to say. Like... I hope they enjoy your company just as much as we do. Or: Haven't graced them with your presence in awhile, huh? But at the time, it was better just to watch her leave with her minuscule bunch of flowers. I get a choice in where I loan my voice. 

Not here. 

Is it over? Nah. She'll be back for another round. But one day she'll finally retire in the way that she's always threatened to. And then? Then it can be as over as it ever will be. 

It is shocking to come from a history of retail, where you're not allowed to even hint at the idea of a customer being wrong, where you have to override every single price change to get the scores up, where you have to just let them steal your things and pull the wool over your eyes... 

... to flat-out telling someone 'no.' 

"No." 

It's such a great word. 

There are rules and there are rules. 

And there are thieves that the rules are made for. 

And there are words like 'no.' 

And all those things are magic in very human ways. 

[struggling-with-time]

Could I ask for c!Wilbur being a gn reader's father figure? Can be either a one shot or headcanons, whichever you prefer. ^_^

Paring: c!Wilbur Soot x Gender Neutral!reader

Summary: Your life as raised by Wilbur Soot.

Warnings: Fluff, angst, betrayal, hurt.

Words: 1.7k

A/N: I'm not sorry for this, however, I am sorry for if you wanted something different, then you are welcome to request again and I will write another dadbur fic. REQUESTS ARE OPEN. Request here.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Wilbur Soot

He finds you lurking around the outer skirts of the newly established country of L’Manberg. The country that has yet to declare full independence.

“Hey there, what are you doing around these parts?”

From that day on he took you, the bewildered child from nowhere, under his wing. Letting you into the drug van.

You grow up with Fundy being your older sibling. Wilbur in the first years being there for the two of you.

He teaches you how to play the guitar.

And while you don’t become the best player at it, you can play a couple of camp songs.

Then the independence declaration comes.

And everything changes.

Nice nights with Wilbur, Fundy and Tommy turn into war planning sessions you aren’t allowed into.

You are the youngest citizen of L’Manberg, leading to everyone trying to keep your innocence

Especially Wilbur after he drags Fundy in as a child soldier in his war.

But you are there, right on the battlefield amongst everyone, and you are there afterwards as you help patch up the hurt.

Eret is the one who teaches you how to treat a wound after Wilbur gets an arrow in his shoulder after a tough battle.

Leading to you keeping to Eret whenever Wilbur is planning. And Fundy seems to be running off with Tubbo and Tommy.

On the day of the betrayal, Eret and Wilbur make you stay back in the van, Eret hoping to shield you from what’s gonna go down. And Wilbur hoping to keep you away from the battle on the horizon.

You are there to patch up the wounds from everyone as they respawn.

Wilbur is now more determined to keep you sheltered.

However, this made you more determined to stand on the battlefield fighting for your country.

You are there in the middle of the explosions when they go off. Losing your first life. Fighting for freedom. Fighting for your pseudo father.

Wilbur holds you for hours afterwards.

As you cry into his shoulder.

Wilbur makes you stay back when Tommy is meant to dual Dream, leading to you being the first to see him when he respawns.

Ah, two of the four children traumatised by a war they didn’t ask for.

You are there when the declaration of independence gets signed.

Getting credited as the 2nd little champion.

And everything is good for a while.

Wilbur helps you through your nightmares whenever you wake up thinking there is TNT blowing you up. Or you remember the day everyone respawned. Or remember how hurt and wounded everyone was doing the battles.

You watch as your father drowns himself in government work to not process what happened himself.

You try your best to help him out, but there is only so much you can do.

Then the election gets called, and you are there supporting him, while also helping your big brother Fundy with his campaign.

Wilbur didn’t take lightly to both of his children running a campaign against him. But he lived with it and respected it.

Then Schlatt won.

And you watched as your father and Tommy was chased out of the city.

Fundy holding you back as you break down crying over the sight.

Fundy keeps you from joining Pogtopia, stating it is no place for a child, despite him working as a spy for them and Tommy living there.

So you stay put in the now Manberg.

You are there to pick up the pieces of your older brother falls apart after your father calls him a traitor and states he’s no son of his.

So you venture out through the big forest. Barely stumbling into Pogtopia as nightfall has come.

And you get to see with your own eyes as the man you regards as your father yells at Tommy, Wilbur looks deranged and nothing like the man who raised you.

He never spots you that day, but Tommy does as you head back out again. Through the night filled with horrors beyond your imagination, and you barely make it back to Manberg in one piece.

You aren’t there the day Schlatt gets murdered, having retreated into isolation after having your worldview shattered. A child of war, now a child of trauma.

But you are there, right in the centre cheering on Tubbo as he’s granted the title of L’Manbergs president.

Your own fathers’ actions taking your second life too. You die in the explosion.

From that day on your anxiety worsen, loud noises bringing you to your knees in panic attacks. It had been bad after the war, but now it was unbearably bad.

Fundy started talking with Eret about potential adoption, but he only ends up adopting you, stating Fundy is too old.

And that’s how you deal with your father’s death. Living with the traitor of his country.

And you keep living. Denouncing him as your father, returning to your title of the bewildered child of nowhere.

You keep living in spite. In spite of the man who took two of your lives and made you grow up in a war you never wanted to fight in. And there, while looking over the railing of L’Manberg, is where you spot him.

Ghostbur

You watch as a tinted floating version of your former father wanders around the mostly rebuild crater.

“…Dad?”

“Y/N! My child!”

You can’t believe your own eyes, it’s actually him, it’s actually the man who found you wandering the skirts of the nation you now reside nearby.

And you turn your back to him.

You walk home, to your place in the castle, outside the nation that has caused you so much hurt.

Fundy is the one to make you talk to Ghostbur the second time, telling you about what seems to be going on.

“Would you like some blue Y/n? You’re crying.”

You refuse, wiping your tears away because he doesn’t deserve that from you. He doesn’t deserve the tears he caused himself.

You never call him dad again after the day you spot him. Because your dad died a traitor of the country he made. Leaving you at 14 to deal with the damages he had done.

But now you are 16, with Eret in your back, and your big brother Fundy helping you in any way or form he can. This includes, even more, sheltering, keeping you as far away from the Tubbo administration as he can.

Because you are all children of war, and they never seem to make the right decisions.

His heart breaks every time you remind him that he isn’t your father anymore and that you aren’t his child.

You don’t ever really hang around Ghostbur.

The few times you do, he tells you of stories of you growing up, teaching you guitar, finding you walking around the walls of the country. And he introduces you to your Grandpa Philza. A calm and relatively collected man.

A murder.

Whom took your father away from you all to early.

You like Friend, the blue sheep is a nice distraction to have nearby whenever your deceased father tries to be near you.

You appreciate the effort he makes, wishing he would have made the same efforts when Schlatt helps you within the walls of Manberg.

So when Tommy gets exiled and Ghostbur goes along with him, you aren’t surprised.

It’s always Tommy. And you are alright with that. Both you and Fundy knew from the start, it was always Tommy over the two of you. And you’ve had years to come to terms with that.

You keep yourself neutral in the affairs of the SMP.

Although you do visit Tommy twice, trying to get Fundy with you, but your older brother has a small distaste for the exiled ex-vice president, although he claims to have nothings against the blonde.

You keep out of the city as Tommy gets imprisoned, but you are there to greet him when he gains his freedom. Ghostbur beside you. Offering Tommy blue, and empty promises it of everything being okay now.

So when Tommy tells you he’s gonna smuggle himself into the prison with the help of the ghost, you are there handing him the potions.

When he returns only baring Friend on her leash, you break down. You lost your father once more.

Revivebur

You get an eerily sense of déjà vu over seeing him, standing over the now L’Manberg doomsday crater.

And you speak the word you had sworn to never say to him again.

“Dad?”

And he looks back, taking in the sight of you, Tommy, Tubbo & Ranboo together.

And he smiles.

And you leave.

You don’t end up talking to him again until Tommy seeks you out asking for you to talk to him, and for Fundy to do the same. You don’t know why, but you do it.

So you and Fundy meet him.

“Ah! My children!”

Fundy frowns, and you for the first time stand up to him.

“I am not your child. I am not yours!”

“What?”

“You haven’t been around for a really long time, a lot of things have changed, and so have I.”

You are seething, and for once Fundy doesn’t hold you back, or shelters you. He stands beside you.

“We had to raise ourselves! We had to keep on living after you decided to go blow your precious nation.”

“But you turned out fine! You are all grown up now, and you still have two lives each.”

Fundy pulls you into him, realising Wilbur doesn’t know.

“Y/n is on their last life. You took their second one too. You blew them up yourself. We are done here we are leaving.”

Wilbur calls out to you and Fundy, but neither of you turn around. He might have taken you in, but in the end, the two of you only ever had each other.

Children of war, never get to be children after all.

[heresathreebee]

The One Where She Got A Dog

Yelena Belova X Reader

Summary: how Yelena became a dog mom Masterlist Part 2

Tags: E | 1.8k words | scary movie, winter, secret pasts, sapphic

AN: Black Widow movie really got me in my feelings about those characters, Yelena in particular. I havent watched The Thing in almost a year please look the other way if movie events are out of order.

Pretty Russian girls are not usually your type, but fuck if you weren't absolutely obsessed with this one. You laughed when she told you she was from Ohio.  She laughed when you said you were too. 

Aquavit and your grandma's biscuit recipe brought her into your cabin on the edge of the world where she admitted to you she had never seen John Carpenter's The Thing before. You turned it on just as the snow storm set in and wrapped up in your thickest blankets with her. You're trying not to get your hopes too high but she's not shy about asking you to scoot closer. 

"Skäl," you cheer just as the ominous opening credits end and they find the mysterious ship in the frozen wasteland of antarctica. 

"Have you ever been?," Yelena asked. 

You grimace at the strong taste of aquavit. It's like vodka but with caraway for 'flavor'. You look at her from the side and poor yourself a second shot. "Been…?" 

"There." She points at the screen. 

"I have actually," you admit in a way you hope is flat and uninteresting, "have you?" 

Yelena shook her head. It's possible she might think you're being sarcastic (you cross your fingers under the blanket and hope she does). She's smiling at you, thinking something (but still watching the screen with interest). 

She drops the subject until you have to pause the movie to pee. You unwrap yourself from the cocoon of blankets and as you stand she asks you another question. 

"What were you doing there? in Antarctica, I mean." 

You sigh and pretend to brush something off of your pants. "Science trip with my parents. Shitty vacation for me I'd rather be in the Bahamas." 

You resist the urge to look at her. After taking care of business, you come back just in time to put the biscuits in the oven. You hear Yelena lean into the kitchen archway as the floors creak immensely here. 

"No timer?," she asked. 

"No timer," you confirm. "I use the timer of my heart." 

Yelena scoffs. "Please don't burn them, I'm curious about these… what are they– pastries?" 

"Something like that." 

The two of you went back to the movie just as the gang on screen is trying to decipher who is human and who is not. You feel like something between you has changed and sadly not for the better. 

But she can't know. 

"I hate this part," you say, making absolutely no move to avert your gaze. 

Yelena is startled when the doctor's arms become trapped in the bear trap belly mouth of the "man" on the table. She quickly covers her eyes and giggles manically, slapping your chest for the vague and unhelpful warning. You realize she's not as close to you as before…

There's 20 minutes left of this movie and you haven't seen a single thing on screen. Yelena stopped asking you questions when you stopped being coherent with your answers. All you can think about is telling her. 

But you can't tell her. She would never understand. You barely understand and it's about you. 

"I lied." Your heart beats in your throat as you see her face you but you can't look at her directly for fear of losing your nerve. "About the science expedition? That's not why I was in Antarctica…" 

Yelena seems to wait for you to continue but… 

"Eh, no offense but, " you gesture with your hand, "I don't really know you like that." 

Yelena gave your reply a single nod. "I suppose that's fair." 

You can't help but fidget in your seat. "Idliketo" 

"What was that?" 

You cleared your throat. "I said… I said I'd like to. Know you like that, I mean…" 

Yelena gives you a smile. "I would like to know you like that, too." 

The movie ends, the biscuits are not burnt but buttery soft and golden brown, and the blizzard outside has subsided some. It's still going but at least it's not buffering the doors and windows like before. 

"How can you watch that film in a place like this?" Yelena cannot get enough of those biscuits, stuffing them in her mouth 2 at a time. "Does it make you paranoid?" 

"Yes it does," you say, putting your coat on, "I think that's what makes it so much scarier–  looking outside and being scared every person you come across ain't who they say they are. Sometimes its not a bad thing though... I think it is rather… poetic, too." 

Yelena's eyebrows furrow. "Where are you going?" 

You put on your boots and hope the duct tape stays on the hole you covered earlier. "Dogs are out in the shed. It's heated and they have food, but not for days and I'd rather have 'em in the house where I can take care of them." 

As you finished your sentence you reached for the door,  but stopped when you noticed Yelena getting dressed too. She gives you a nod as soon as her hood comes up, and you give this brave thing an appreciative once over. 

The snow that nearly all melted before is up to your knees now. Fresh, white, and fluffy. It muffles sound like the world's sidelong turning. The odd snowflake wafts lazily from the sky, but for the most part it's died down. You teach back and take Yelena's gloved hand to keep from staying too far apart. 

"You know I always wanted a dog," she said. She could have said it in a whisper from 100 yards away and you still would have heard her–  that is how eerily quiet it is. 

Yelena squeezes your hand and you squeeze back. She's probably remembering the movie. You try to distract her by saying, "Oh yeah? You can have one of mine then." 

Yelena laughs, then stops. "You serious?" 

"As a heart attack." You finally reach the door to the shed and unlatch the door. A chorus of barks begin and you charge forward to nudge them back to give Yelena space to come in as well. "I do some breeding up here–  just a side job. They're usually working dogs but they can be pets too." 

Buck licks your face from chin to forehead and you push him back. "Down, boy! Show some respect!" 

Yelena has two of the mongrels circling her, sniffing all her clothes and demanding to be pet. "That's Burt, Barney, and Bella. Buck's my stud, but these heathens are going to a farm. They've got sheep to watch." 

Yelena chuckles as her hands get covered in slobber. "I love them." 

They're almost grown, three quarters the height of their father. Buck didn't even look in Yelena's direction because he knows you give him treats. You take your scarf off as the heat of the shed threatens to smother you and search your pockets for jerky.  

"She's in there with the new puppies." You point to a darkened closet. "Don't get too close now, she's still a little protective." 

Yelena creeps closer. You see her look at you from the corner of her eye. Probably terrified by the morphing dog scene from the movie. You give her an encouraging smile and tell her where to find the light. It's a pull cord and it bathes the room in a warm golden yellow light. 

Yelena's heavy, controlled breathing turns into a coo. Mama dog is laying on her side watching the newcomer closely. There's a pup asleep in the nest of her legs, another chewing on the hay that litters the ground, and the last one is biting their mother's ear. Yelena looks back at you with an adorable pout on her lip. 

"So cute…" 

You chuckle and put your arm around her. Buck knows to steer clear of mama dog and slinks off. You make your guest walk closer with you to show mama she's got your confidence. 

"Yelena, this is Beyonce." Mama dog's ears perk at the sound of her name. "Beyonce, this is Yelena. Be nice." 

You reach down and scoop up the hay eating puppy at your feet. "This one's always hungry." 

You put the pup in her arms and scoop up the biter. "This one likes to play. All the time. Got more energy than the blue Energizer bunny actually." 

The pup in question is literally trying to wriggle out of your hands in its eagerness to climb you and eat your hair. 

"And that one sleeps a lot?" Yelena nodded her head at the last pup. 

"Pretty much." You put the writhing excited puppy down before it hurts itself and look up into the rafters. "And then there's the climber…" 

You both turn your heads when you hear a tiny bark. A cute little face stares down at you from the rafters and there's a feather stuck to its nose. You shake your head knowing this pup got it from ripping up pillows in another part of the dog house. 

"Better go get her," you said, not moving an inch to do so.  

Yelena sees your challenge and rises to it. As if trained to do exactly so, she assesses the wooden interior for foot and hand holds. You can see the wheels turning in her head as she calculates what will and won't support her weight. In the sweep of a single moment, she rises from the door and swings herself into the rafters using a build up a momentum to propel her fast in an upperward direction. She completes the climb and balances with ease, reaching out to collect the happy wagging miscreant from her mountain top, tucks her in her jacket and climbs a different way down. 

You stare at her. "Were you raised by trapeze artists?" 

Yelena laughs. "I thought everybody was." 

The pup is safe and happy and eager to explore its new friend. Yelena lets her lick, sniff, and scratch at her skin, her clothes, her hair. The pup catches Yelena with a tiny lick right on the tip of her nose and Yelena looks back at you with adoring eyes. 

You smile. "Got a name for her already don't you?" 

"Yes," Yelena whines, "no, are you sure about this? I should probably tell you I've never had a dog before…" 

"I can tell your good people," you reply. "And smart as a whip. You'll adapt, just call me if you ever need anything." 

~

Three weeks later you get a phone call from an unknown number. It's Yelena giving you an address and making you swear never to tell anybody about it. You don't have any friends so it's an easy secret to keep. 

You drive a few miles south and stumble upon a stationary trailer in the middle of nowhere, nothing but clearings and trees and sky. Actually very similar to your own home. 

The door opens and Yelena greets you with a beer and the pup under her arm, already almost a foot bigger than she was before. 

"Her name is Fanny." You both laugh yourselves hoarse and pile into the trailer to puppy proof the place. 

[whatisthiswritingthing]

Learn to Skate - Alex Morgan x Hockey!Reader

Prompt: Alex Morgan imagine with Charlie where Alex had Charlie before her and the reader started dating but think of the reader as her other mom as well? Plus the reader plays hockey and Alex and Charlie (if couple members of the team as well) shows up to a game to support the reader , Alex and Charlie is also wearing the readers jersey (with the number 29) please?

Note: I aged Charlie a little for this one. 

“So, I’ve been thinking,” Y/N said out of nowhere while both women packed for their respective team camps.

Both women would be in Boston for the next two weeks with their national teams, Y/N for hockey and Alex for soccer. Y/N would be playing at the end of the first week, Alex at the end of the second.

“I feel like I should be concerned about that,” Alex hesitated.

“And now I feel like I should be offended your concerned.”

Alex just rolled her eyes at her girlfriend, staring at her, waiting for her to continue.

“It’s time for Charlie to learn to skate.”

“She’s only three!”

“She can stand, kind of, so she can learn to skate,” Y/N shrugged, grinning.

“First of all, she will be playing soccer before she will be playing hockey. Second, she’s only three!”

“That doesn’t count, you said three twice,” Y/N rolled her eyes, “besides, that’s the perfect time to learn. She’s young, bones are nice and pliable.”

“You are not helping your argument!” Alex looked shocked at Y/N.

“I’m kidding!” Y/N said with a laugh, “I wouldn’t let anything happen to her.”

Alex just continued to watch Y/N, Y/N just looked back.

“So, you’re saying, if Charlie happened to end up with a pair of skates, she wouldn’t be allowed to break them in?”

“No!”

“Alright, good talk,” Y/N nodded, slowly making her way to the bedroom door. “On an unrelated note, I’m just going to get check Charlies bag is packed for camp.”

“You were trying to sneak skates into her bag, weren’t you?” Alex questioned.

“They were a gift from my sponsor! I’ll put them in my equipment bag, when you change your mind, we can test then out.”

“When I change my mind?” Alex repeats.

“Yea, we both know you can’t say no to me and Charlie,” Y/N grinned, shooting Alex a wink as she walked out of the room.

For the next week Alex did her best to keep Y/N involved with Charlie while they both stayed at separate hotels. The couple made sure they facetimed every night, Y/N saying goodnight to Charlie before Alex would put her to bed.

“What do you have on their munchkin?” Y/N asked Charlie the night before her game.

“Jersey!” Charlie shouted into the phone, while seated on Alex’s lap. Charlie was wearing a slightly too big blue and white jersey, a large smile on her face.

“Oddly enough, a box with a couple jerseys like this was left with one of our staff today,” Alex said with a grin and faux confusion.

“Hmm, that is odd,” Y/N said coyly.

“Mama jersey!” Charlie repeated, not liking being left out of the conversation.

“That’s a cool jersey! You going to wear it to hockey tomorrow?” Y/N asked, already aware Alex would be coming her game with Charlie and a few other players.

“Yes!”

“She wants to sleep in it,” Alex roller her eyes.

“She’s gotta ready for hockey! Right Kiddo?” Y/N teased.

“Ready for hockey!” Charlie mimicked Y/N.

“Do not encourage her! She needs to go to sleep soon,” Alex warned.

“No sleep, hockey!” Charlie argued.

“The faster you go to sleep, faster you can go to hockey Munchkin,” Y/N suggested.

Charlie scrambled off Alex’s lap to lay under her blankets.

“Looks like we are going to sleep now,” Alex laughed at her daughter pretending to be asleep, still clad in her new hockey jersey.

“Looks like it,” Y/N laughed too. “Goodnight Charlie!” Y/N spoke up for the little girl to hear.

“Night Mama!”

“There should be another jersey for her in the box, and one for you too.”

The women said goodnight, Alex needing to finish getting Charlie ready for bed before the little girl really did fall asleep.

Alex spent the next day keeping her daughter busy until it was time to go to Y/N’s hockey game in the afternoon. The little girl had slept in her jersey, refusing to take it off the next morning as well. Proudly wearing it to the team breakfast, telling all the soccer players about her Mama the hockey player. Of course, they all already had met Y/N, many planning on coming to the game in the evening as well.

“Watcha wearing the goober?” Emily asked as she ran into the banquet room.

“Mama jersey!” Charlie yelled.

“Mamas hockey jersey?” Lindsey asks.

“Yes! Gonna watch Mama play!”

“Cool! We are too!” Emily matched the girls excitement.

Charlie froze, stunned at the prospect of someone else coming with her and her Mom to be going to her Mama’s game. Lindsey scooped the girl up under her arms, pressing her above her head.

“You bet! We are leaving right now.”

The team were all spread throughout the box while the game played on the ice below. Charlie disappointed because she was too far to see which one her Mama was. Several of the soccer players taking turns keeping Charlie off the railing, preventing her from falling.

“That mama?” Charlie asked again, point to a random player on the ice again.

“You gotta look for her number goober,” Emily explained. “Look for the number like mom’s, it needs a big two and a big nine” she motioned to the back of Alex’s matching jersey.

Charlie stared at Alex’s jersey, trying to memorize what it looked like to find the matching one on the ice. She shifted her attention to the ice, focused on finding her Mama’s jersey. Her focus remaining on the ice the entire game, determined to see Y/N as much as she could.

Unlike soccer, they couldn’t make their way to the ice after the game. They were able to go to the tunnels just before the game would finish to see some of the players. Alex struggling to keep Charline in her grasp as they made their way down.

The group made it under the stands just as the game ended. Alex kept her hands on Charlies shoulders as the players made their way in.

“Mama jersey!” Charlie shouted, finally seeing the bright blue jersey with the number “29” on the back.

“Hey you! I have a jersey like that!” Y/N made her way over, still in her full equipment.

Alex finally let Charlie rush over to Y/N, who immediately took off to meet Y/N, jumping into her.

Y/N awkwardly knelt down, leaning her weight on stick as Charlie stepped to stand on the toes of her skates.

Charlie grabbed at Y/N jersey, stretching it towards her own to see that they’re the same.

Alex made her way to the pair, Y/N standing up the place a quick kiss to her lips.

“Great game babe,” Alex kissed her again.

“Did you hear us cheer mama?” Charlie asked, looking up from her stance on Y/N’s skates.

“Of course I heard you cheering Munchkin!”

Charlie lifted her feet on the skates, testing the durability. Y/N matched the motions, lifting her feet with Charlies. The little girl giggling at the action. She hopped off, kneeling down to inspect the skates closer. Cautious of the small hands at her feet, Y/N kept as still as she could.

Alex watched on as Charlie tugged at the laces and poked the hard toes.

“You guys allowed back out on the ice?”

Y/N’s head shot towards the soccer player.

“If it means what I think you mean, then yes!” Y/N said excited.

Alex just nodded.

“Hey munchkin, you want to try on your own skates?”

Charlie shot up, jumping up and down in place.

“Yes! Yes! Yes!”

“Alright, you, lets go get some on and test them out!”

Y/N reached down to hold Charlies hand and lead her to the change room.

A few minutes later the duo came out of the change room, slowly walking along as Charlie tested the skates under her feet, Y/N walking behind holding both of her hands. Y/N having taken off most of her equipment, leaving her jersey on

Alex snapped several pictures as they waddled towards the ice.

Y/N stepped onto the ice first, turning and letting Charlie take tentative step on the ice.

Alex nervously watched from the bench as the Y/N skate backwards, pulling Charlie by her hands. Her heart swelling as she watched them skate in matching jerseys, her own still on.

Finally, the pair made their way back to the boards, Y/N lifted Charlie up to sit on the edge while she excitedly told Alex all about skating.

Lindsey and Emily both quietly taking pictures of the small family, all in matching number 29 jerseys.

[carlatsukinamistolemyhamsandwich]

Howl’s Moving Castle AU (Shin Tsukinami x Reader)

This new AU has got me by the throat so here’s another Shin x Reader Howl’s Moving Castle AU piece (the first one can be found here). This one actually comes before first one in terms of story, and I suppose serves as a proper introduction (i.e. it’s chapter 1). I can’t promise that this will end up as a full-multichapter fic (because I have enough on my plate as it is) but I do have a good chunk of this AU planned and it’s fun to write so there may be more in the future. Enjoy!

Warnings: There are some ableist comments in the intro (some unimportant OCs being dicks about Shin’s eye) as well as people in a position of power (military) abusing it. If you think any of that might upset you then please skip to “Is that so? Well, I think his business with you has already concluded.” and you should still be able to enjoy the rest of it.

In hindsight, travelling into the town centre today was not the wisest decision Shin has ever made. Admittedly with all the work that had been dumped on him at the shop, he’d forgotten that the military parade was taking place today, meaning the town is infested by idiots in uniforms who are all too happy to throw around their self-assumed authority. 

It was meant to be a short trip to the butchers to pick up some cured ham for his brother, perhaps followed by a stop at the bakery—business had been going well lately, meaning they actually had some spare money for once, enough to buy food that Carla might be able to keep down in his worsening condition. He’d thought he might be able to avoid getting into any trouble if he just kept to the back alleys and side streets. Five years had passed since they’d been forced to move to this middle of nowhere town, enough time that Shin knew the place like the back of his hand, ashamed as he was to even be there in the first place.

Still, it hadn’t been enough. He wasn’t even halfway there when two soldiers in their gaudy blue uniforms stepped out in front of him, both with the gait of individuals who had consumed more liquor than they could really handle—it was disgraceful.

There was a time when Shin had thought it would be him wearing one of those stupid blue uniforms, back when his father had been in charge of the military—the King’s right hand man. Before the King had decided he’d rather take charge of the army himself and had thrown Shin’s father, and their entire family, into ruin to get them out of the way. It’d driven Giesbach mad in the end, enough that he didn’t even attend his own wife’s funeral when she passed away shortly after they had to move out here. Not that it mattered really, he’d joined her fairly soon after.

Now the only army Shin would consider signing up to was the enemy’s—some foreign nation he didn’t care about—as at least it might give him a shot of blowing the King’s brains out all over his golden throne.

The soldiers left no space for him in the alley and Shin had absolutely no intention of going any further out of his way for people as shameful as these two. So he barged past them, his shoulder knocking into the one on the right. 

Which was how he found himself in this predicament.

“You need to learn some respect young man,” says the idiot he walked into, a hand firmly clamped onto his shoulder as the man hovers his ruddy face close to Shin’s. “We fight for King and country, you know, which is far more than some vagabond like you will ever do.” The man’s stupid moustache twitches as he sneers down at him.

Shin’s hand moves before his brain has a chance to catch up with it, a sharp jab towards the man’s nose. Unfortunately the angle is all wrong and even in his inebriated state, the guy’s friend is able to catch it, twisting Shin’s arm uncomfortably.  

“As if morons like you will ever actually accomplish anything,” he spits, wincing at the pain in his arm. “All the pair of you are good for is canon fodder.”

“Tch, is this the quality of men from the country?” The one holding his arm says. “They ought to conscript you all into the army, that might instill some discipline in you.”

“Not like they could conscript this one,” the first man chimes in again, “not with a defective eye, if he even has one under that patch. He’d be more likely to shoot off his own foot than the enemy I reckon.”

“I bet I’m a better shot than you two bastards, even when you’re actually sober.” Shin wrinkles his face in disgust and kicks the one holding his arm in the leg, hard enough that the idiot lets go. “You’re nothing but disgraces, half a decade ago you wouldn’t have even been allowed to polish the boots of a real soldier.” Twisting his shoulder out of the grasp of the git with the moustache, Shin’s about to lay into the pair of them when he spots more men in blue uniforms making their way down the alley, drawn here by their innate group stupidity or the noise, Shin doesn’t know. He could easily take the two in front of him, but there’s a big difference between one versus two and one versus five.

Backing up a step, he’s just made the decision to say the hell with it and teach these guys a lesson, when the ruddy-faced git pulls a gun out of the back of his waistband and points it at Shin. 

“You really think so, do you oik?”  The guy says, squinting as the small revolver wobbles from left to right. “I think you should apologise before I decide to show you how wrong you are.” Shin’s not even sure whether the man is actually trying to aim at him or at the wall behind him. Surely even this geezer wouldn’t be so stupid as to actually shoot someone in the street. Still if he’s drunk enough to actually pull the trigger, it doesn’t matter how bad of a shot this moron is, not at this distance—and from the way the barrel is wobbling, Shin thinks there’s a good chance of the bullet hitting him even if he’s not the target. But there’s still no way he’s going to back down. 

He’s just about to dodge to the left before launching himself at the one with the gun when a new voice cuts in.

“There you are love, sorry to keep you waiting for so long.” 

There had been no sound of anyone approaching but now there is a stranger—you—wrapping your arm around his waist and leaning into his chest like you belong there. The only reason he doesn’t immediately shove you away is because he’s pretty sure the red-faced bastard with the moustache will pull the trigger at the first sudden movement—hell it’s a miracle your surprise appearance hasn’t already set him off.

One of the other soldiers—the one Shin kicked—leans into your space, his large frame imposing as his breath washes over Shin’s face, the reek of cheap alcohol making his nose wrinkle.

“Sorry love, but we’re in the middle of a chat with your boyfriend here so if you wouldn’t mind giving us a couple of minutes to… sort some things out.” The soldier smiles at you patronisingly and Shin knows if that look were directed at him, he’d punch it off the git’s face, gun be damned.

You, however, seem entirely unphased. 

“Is that so? Well, I think his business with you has already concluded. In fact I think you’re going to walk back to the main square and find a nice spot to have a sit down until you sober up a bit.” Your tone is entirely even as you speak, like you’re having an idle chat over tea rather than standing in front of someone with a gun.

While you’re talking, Shin takes the opportunity to actually look at you. It’s a bit tricky given that you’re currently pressing yourself against him, but you look… odd. It’s like you tried something on in a costume shop and then forgot to change before you left. In spite of that, the parts of you he can see appear well-kept—the hand that you’ve currently got pressed against his chest is so well-manicured that he doesn’t think you can ever have done a hard day’s work in your life. 

There’s no way the guy looming over the pair of you is going to listen to someone like you, and Shin’s just started to think about how he could use him as a meat shield against the man with the gun when all expression on the soldier’s face drops. His eyes have completely glazed over—no, that’s not quite right, it’s like they’re covered in a milky pearlescent film. 

“Yes that’s right,” the soldier says, entirely without intonation, “sorry to bother you.”

Just like that he turns around to leave, his motions slow and jerky, his companions following suit with similarly gormless faces. For a moment Shin just stands there, likely looking just as foolish as the soldiers, as he tries to work out what in the hell just happened.

“Well, I can’t imagine how drunk that fellow must have been to pull a gun—I’m not even sure it was loaded. I imagine they just wanted to scare you a bit, not that that’s any excuse. King’s finest indeed,” you scoff, your grip on him loosening slightly and Shin takes the opportunity to step out of your hold.

“Who are you?” He demands. “What the hell did you just do?”

You turn towards him, finally giving him a look at your face. It’s—he’s not sure what he was expecting but it certainly wasn’t the unnatural beauty that’s radiating from your features. They’re too perfect, so flawless as to make him think he’s looking at a mannequin rather than another human being. Your hair is glossy and frames your face beautifully, drawing attention to the glitter smeared over your eyelids and your cheekbones. You look like something out of a fairy tale. You look like—

“You’re a wizard,” he says, taking another step away from you. 

You raise an eyebrow at him. “Am I not even going to get so much as thank you?”

“I didn’t need your help!” Even as he says it, Shin tenses. He’s met wizards before—of course he has, his father was head of the army for years—but there’s a big difference between the smartly-dressed, well-mannered magicians that serve the King and the ones who roam freely around the countryside, like the infamous Warlock of the Waste. You don’t look particularly threatening, although there’s every chance you could be hiding something nasty under whatever magic you’ve got glamouring your appearance.

Your head suddenly whips to the side and your lips pull into a frown. “Rats, I thought I’d lost him but it seems he’s persistent as ever. Hey, come here a sec,” you say, turning back to him and taking hold of his arm without giving him an opportunity to refuse.

“Oi, let go of me!” Shin tries to pull away but you’re a lot stronger than you look.

“Just give me a couple more minutes of your time and I’ll drop you off at your destination without any more fuss.” You start walking down the alley, dragging him along with you. “Where were you headed?”

Shin’s about to tell you to piss off when he catches something moving out of the corner of his eye. At first it looks like nothing more than a faint shadow, but then it seems to grow darker, as though it’s actually swallowing up the light, and it starts writhing—amorphous dark shapes rising up out of the ground and staking on top of each other to create a figure carved out of night itself. 

“What the fuck is that?” His step falters as he cranes his neck to look at the creature and it’s only your hold on him that keeps him from tripping entirely.

“Don’t look at them,” you say, taking a sharp turn right and nearly yanking his shoulder out of its socket. “They’re not here for you, so all we have to do is give them the slip and you can be on your merry way. Now, where should I take you?” 

He considers wrenching his arm away and taking off, but as more of the shadow creatures rise out of the ground and start to follow you, Shin decides to go along with you for the moment. 

“The butcher’s just off the main square. Who did you piss off to have these things sent after you?”

You chuckle at that for some reason. “Oh I didn’t piss off anyone, it’s really rather the opposite problem.” The dark figures are moving faster now, pushing each other out of the way as they pursue the pair of you down the narrow side streets. Before Shin has a chance to get you to elaborate, you veer to the left and break into a run, forcing him to sprint to keep up with you. You twist left and then right and then left again until he has absolutely no idea which direction you’re even going in. It seems to be enough to lose the shadow monsters though, at least until they start rising out of a patch of shade directly ahead of you. 

You curse, making a sharp motion with your hand, and Shin just has time to see the dull red bricks of the surrounding buildings start to rearrange themselves to form a barrier between you and the shadows before you’re tugging him down another side street, this one so narrow the two of you barely fit. 

He can still hear the sounds of something chasing you from behind, it’s not like footsteps though, more the rustle of fabric in a breeze that isn’t blowing. You turn again and Shin swears when he sees it’s a dead end—even if you do your little trick from earlier, there’s no guarantee that there aren’t shadows waiting for you on the other side of the wall. 

“Well if we can’t go around it…” You mutter, continuing to sprint at a solid brick wall at full speed. “Don’t stop running!” 

For some damn reason he listens to you, even though at this point he’s positive you’ve lost your mind. Shin squeezes his eye shut, bracing himself for the collision as you take one final big leap and then—

There is no impact, no crunch of pain as he collides with brickwork, just a swooping sensation in his stomach and the wind on his face. Carefully, he opens his eye and then blinks it several more times, trying to process what he’s seeing. The two of you are floating above the town, the shadows reduced to dark specks climbing on top of each other in the spot you were just occupying.

Out of sheer animal instinct—and absolutely nothing more—Shin finds himself clinging to you with a death grip. A fall from this height would definitely kill him, there’s not a single chance he’d survive it. 

“You can ease up there, you’re not going to fall, I’ve got you.” He gives you a glare as he tries to command his stubborn fingers to release their hold on you—with limited success. 

“What am I supposed to trust you just like that? After whatever the hell those things were started chasing you out of nowhere?”

“I got you out of there didn’t I?” You gently prize off the arm he has wrapped around your waist, placing it on top of the other one that’s still clinging onto your upper arm. “Just relax, it’s no different from taking a walk down the street.” Your legs slice gracefully through the air, and it truly is like you’re stepping on some invisible road. 

Shin tries to copy your movements but it’s a lot harder than it looks. Even though his stomach has stopped feeling like it’s dropped straight out of him, he’s left with a bizarre sense of weightlessness that leaves him off-balance and stumbling into you. 

“There’s a good boy, you’ll get the hang of it.”

“Don’t patronise me,” he growls at you, although he’s equally frustrated with his own feet. Then he loses his footing—on what exactly he has no idea but he’s sure it’s your fault somehow—and he feels his gut drop out from beneath him once more as he’s faced with the idea of falling all the way to the ground.

Your magic must be slowing down his reaction times, he thinks, it’s the only reason he can come up with as to how you’re able to get an arm behind his knees and lift him into your arms like some sort of fair maiden before he has a chance to process what’s happening or even struggle. 

“Put me down!” He barks at you

“Really, right now?” You ask, making a point to look down at the streets far below the both of you. “Are you quite sure?”

“Idiot,” he hisses, “take us down to the ground and then put me down!”

“That was my intention. Did you think I was planning on stealing you away like some sort of evil wizard from a storybook?” Your lips curl into a smirk as you say it and Shin is suddenly aware of how his current position means your too-perfect face is very close to his. You’re making a fool out of him and he hates it. He hates the thin pauper’s shirt he’s wearing that means he can feel every inch of you that’s pressed against him, as though he weren’t wearing anything at all. If he didn’t have enough common sense so as not to want to end up as a paste on filthy town streets, he’d headbutt you. 

“How the hell am I supposed to know what you get up to. Just hurry up and put me down!”

“You seem to be very upset about this,” you note as you continue casually strolling through the sky like this is an everyday occurrence—maybe it is for you. Even though he can feel your arms holding him up, there’s still this strange sense of weightlessness that makes a part of him wonder if this is all some fantastical dream—or nightmare more rather. It at least explains how you were able to pick him up so easily.

“Of course I am! What sort of guy likes being manhandled like this?!” 

“Oh I think that’s just you,” you say, grin taking on a carnal edge. “I’ve encountered more than a few men who quite enjoyed this.”

Shin can feel his face burning, although if anyone were to ask it’s only out of sheer rage and definitely not because he’s starting to feel like someone you’ve picked up from the street with the intention of bedding. 

“Hah, I’m amazed you can convince anyone to be with you when you go around dressing like that,” he mocks.

For the first time since he’s met you, you actually start to look a little annoyed at that comment. Good. 

You make a show of looking him up and down as he squirms in your arms.

“Likewise,” you note, a hint of disdain entering your voice. 

Shin also hates his current wardrobe—he’s wearing it out of necessity rather than choice—but that doesn’t mean he appreciates your commentary on it. 

“At least it’s better than looking like I decided to parade around in my grandmother’s curtains.”

“Please, my grandmother wishes her curtains were half this nice,” you say, sticking your nose up, “or expensive.”

Shin decides right then that he’s done dealing with you. You’re clearly a lunatic, albeit one who can walk through the air and rearrange the walls of the town like it’s child’s play. It’s very fortunate for your sake that his continued existence is currently dependent on yours. 

The rest of your—fight? Sky walk? Whatever the hell it is—passes by in stony silence as Shin watches the town below him start to look more like a town again and less like one of those models they sometimes have set up in the window of the toy shop. Traveling through the air hadn’t been so bad after he’d gotten over the initial shock of it, in fact he might have even enjoyed it had it not been for the feeling of your arms around him and the smell of you invading in his nostrils—something smoky, the scent of magic perhaps? 

You land on top of a small iron staircase that curves up the side of a set of terraces just opposite the butcher’s shop. No sooner have your feet touched the ground than Shin is scrambling out of your hold, eager to get away from you and put this entire humiliating ordeal behind him.

“Am I still not going to get a thank you?” You say, looking entirely unruffled as Shin straightens out his shirt.

“What, you want me to thank you for saving me from something that was after you in the first place?” He spits, incredulous. 

“I was talking more about how I saved you from potentially getting your brains blown out all over the brick wall of that back alley.” You take a moment to brush an invisible speck of dirt from your sleeve and your attitude is so high and mighty that Shin is very tempted to push you off of the platform. “You really should be a bit more careful about picking fights,” you tell him, sounding the most serious you have since he’s met you, “there are a lot more guns in the town these days and plenty more idiots to find a use for them. No matter how good you may think you are with your fists, there’s only so much you can do against bullets.”

“I know,” he snaps at you, “I’m not some child you need to lecture! Those guys started it!”

You sigh in a way that makes it sound like you’re not entirely convinced. 

“Regardless, you should be more careful anyway, as you witnessed earlier with those creatures, there are wizards with decidedly less good taste than myself prowling around town at the moment.” You make direct eye contact as you say your next piece. “And there are rumours that some of them even enjoy eating the hearts of any men that catch their eye.”

Shin knows exactly who you’re referring to with that comment. The Wizard. The one who lives all the way out in the valley in a strange moving castle that you can sometimes see from the town on clear nights. The wizard who’s so famously powerful that Shin had even heard of them when he was living it up in the capital—a lifetime ago. 

“Believe me, I don’t plan on dealing with another one of you ever again.” Shin turns away and starts to walk down the rusted staircase.

“If you say so. In all seriousness though, please do try to take some care of yourself Shin.”

He freezes, a hand on the cool iron railing. For as confusing as the events of the past half hour have been, Shin is quite certain he never told you his name. His mouth opens to demand to know how you’re aware of his name as he turns back around to face you, only to find you’re not there. 

Running to the edge of the platform at the top of the stairwell, he peers down into the street below in case you leapt down without his notice. But you’re not there either, nor can he spot you casually strolling away through the sky; it’s like you’ve blinked straight out of existence. 

Shin stands there for a moment, as though expecting you to reappear so he can interrogate you. You don’t though, there’s just him and the distant sounds of the parade. Finally, he turns and starts to walk down the stairs, an uncomfortable weight in his mind as he tries to puzzle out how you knew who he was—and whether having a wizard out there who knows his name is a good thing. 

As he steps out onto the street, he resolves to put it out of his mind. He has more important things to worry about than wizards who dress as though modelling themselves after some rich old lady’s furniture. 

And so Shin goes about his business as usual, not once catching sight of the squirming shadows that trail after him and follow him home.

So any guesses as to who the Warlock of the Waste is?

[ackasamii--archive]

just as he wanted

summary: with love comes sacrifice

pairing: steve rogers x fem!reader

word count: 2.1k

warnings: angst

note: so this is a repost of my one shot from other blog i impulsively deleted so i hope you enjoy this!!

When was the last time she laughed? A full wholehearted laugh from the core.

Ah, it was in her small New York apartment located in the quiet part of Brooklyn. It was rare to catch a quiet moment in New York, but home was the place Y/n always went. And this time, she brought a friend who was in dire need of it. Someone who carried the world on his shoulders quite often, someone who needed a day or two to relax for once.

With a grin on her face, Y/n handed the last of the dumplings to Steve, who sat comfortably on her worn couch that she had brought at least two or three years ago. The couch had seen better days, the green color was faded, some tears here and there, but she couldn’t find herself to complain. After all, it had many nights of long and thoughtful conversations from five years ago, and she couldn’t bring herself to give that up. If her memory were to vanish at an older age, what else could remind her of the time spent with Captain Steve Rogers?

Steve stared at the two dumplings left and shook his head, “Take them, I’ve had enough of those for one night.” He smiled and let a short chuckle escape his lips, but lately, she’s started to notice how his smile never reached his eyes. Which is why she persisted he have the last of the two dumplings. He looked Y/n in the eyes and assured, “Really, I’m fine.”

Y/n sighed at his stubbornness but let it go as she set the box down on the coffee table and settled down next to him, leaving just enough space between them. She couldn’t help but stare at the man before her with an adoring smile while he was lost in his own wandering thoughts. “Whatcha thinkin’ about?”

He blinked and turned to stare back at her, “What are you thinking about?”

“I asked first.”

Her heart fluttered once another smile broke out onto his lips. Steve leaned forward, clasping his hands together and sighed. “Honestly…” Y/n scooted closer to hear him better, their shoulders nearly touching. “What my life would’ve been like if I hadn’t been on that plane.”

With a thoughtful look, Y/n shrugged, “A lot different, man. I mean if you weren’t on the plane, I wouldn’t know that one story Bucky told me about you and a trash can lid.”

Steve laughed lightly, his muscles flexing slightly with every movement he made, and then his blue eyes met hers.

“Peggy and I, we…” Steve stopped short, looking down at his hands and hadn’t noticed the frown now on her lips. Or the fact that her heart sank at the mention of his old flame. He looked back at Y/n, who quickly made her frown disappear as he asked, “Have I ever told you about the time we met?”

She shook her head but remained silent, letting him continue. Something ugly within her tickled her heart as he passionately talked about that woman. That woman she would possibly never be able to compete with. Eventually, she had to come to this conclusion one way or another without avoiding it. As the spark in his eyes grew brighter and brighter, she knew that his heart still sat in the palms of that woman’s hands.

It hurt her to no end. It hurt her that she wasn’t good enough for him, it hurt her that he may never see her the same way he saw Peggy Carter. Perhaps she was nothing like her, but at times, she wished she could be. But could she blame the woman? No. It was Y/n that just couldn’t compete or even be compared to such a brilliant and strong woman.

Steve told her time when he first got his shield. And how Peggy shot at him. The scenario was so entertaining, that Y/N couldn’t help but laugh along with him. Laughing at that point in time would’ve been so foreign, but not between the two. It was almost natural, as if they were old friends. Which was exactly what Y/n knew he saw her as.

Now, Y/n had no idea why this memory came to mind. Maybe she needed one semi-happy moment to lift her fallen spirits while cladded in black. It was the black clothes. She wanted to change out of them quickly and that’s what she was about to do right after Tony’s funeral. After paying her respects, Y/n was ready to return back to her small apartment alone and possibly take in everything that has happened.

But no.

She stood stiff in front of the time machine transporter or whatever the hell Banner called it, with Steve on her right. Somehow, she didn’t know how, Y/n had gotten wind that Steve was going to travel back and return all the stones. Alone. Normally, she would protest to such a horrid plan only because she was worried about his safety. But this time, she was in too much shock to even utter one word. She wandered how Bucky or even Sam was okay with this. Or why she wasn’t told about this. Maybe because of this very reason, Y/n would try and stop him, and then it would be her fault that time would be screwed up.

So, that’s why she stood silent and stiff to the side while Steve was giving Bucky a hug as if he won’t be coming back. Y/n hoped Steve wouldn’t be that stupid to try something. Finally, he had turned to her, Y/n tried relaxing her shoulders and sending him an encouraging smile, but he could see right through her façade and placed a hand on her shoulder.

“It’ll be fine, stop worrying.”

She shrugged with a defeated look on her face, “Can’t help it.” Impulsiveness was strong today. Y/n pulled him into a hug and buried her face into his shoulder. Her hold was tight as if he was disappear in mere seconds. After a few seconds, she finally let him go and mumbled a, “sorry.”

He only chuckled as he walked towards the platform. What if he doesn’t come back, those thoughts kept nagging at the back of her mind and her mouth suddenly became dry as she wondered if this was her chance just to say it. It three words she’s been ready to say ever since he first came over to her apartment. If she tells him before he leaves, maybe he’ll come back, maybe there would be something more than just friends..

Her moment would pass if she didn’t say anything now. She doesn’t hear Banner count down as she nears the platform, blurting, “Steve—”

But she was a second too late.

His figure was nowhere to be seen and Y/n fiddled with her fingers anxiously. ‘No, I will tell him,’ she assures herself, ‘when he comes back I will tell him.’

Y/n closed her eyes and quietly counted down to five along with Banner. Her heart pounded against her chest excitedly as she got to three. Her fingers became shaky and clammy as she reached four.

She opened her eyes at five.

Only, he wasn’t there.

It was like there was no breath in her lungs and her heart had fallen out of her mouth. With wide eyes, she whipped around to face Banner who was frantically looking at the tech set up before him.

“What happened? Where is he?” Her questions came out rushed and frantic while she looked from the platform and to Banner. After receiving no answers from the green giant, her voice became strain as she shouts, “Bruce, where is he?!”

“I don’t know!” Banner said with his eyes still focused on the contraption.

She was too late. The realization dawned on her as she stared at where Steve once stood. What if he was stuck somewhere, please don’t be stuck somewhere. Y/n’s heart was beating so fast, she was pretty sure it could run a marathon right now. Where the hell was he?

In the corner of her eye, her state of panic shifted as she spotted Sam walking away from the scene and Bucky standing further away. She watched the two, wandering why they weren’t showing the appropriate reaction to this situation. But Y/n kept watching, Sam walked past Bucky and towards an occupied bench. She doesn’t remember seeing that bench, overlooking the lake. Was that always there or did she never pay any mind to it before now?

Y/n trudged to Bucky’s side, she studied his face and the scene ahead of her. Sam was speaking to the figure on the bench, the tension soon shifted, and it finally dawned on her. Her mouth hung open as she watched the two. How…? Time travel was quite the complicated topic for her and in this moment she couldn’t understand what the hell had happened.

“Is that…?” She wanted to be sure, but the answer was already settled deep within her.

Bucky only nodded in response, not once his eyes had wavered from the two. From the back, she could definitely feel that it wasn’t the same Steve. Which meant…

He went back for her.

She should’ve realized it sooner and stopped him. But she was too late. Y/n was too late because she was a coward to say anything then and all the other times where she had the opportunity. This was what she got for being so fearful of rejection. Her eyes welled but she willed herself not to cry, she couldn’t and won’t cry. It was her fault for missing her opportunity.

A few minutes pass as Sam comes back with the shield in his hand. But Y/n’s remained on the figure on the bench. Seconds pass and Bucky isn’t by her side anymore, only her, slowly moving towards the bench in curiosity and caution.  Maybe she should’ve prepared herself for what she would find, or maybe she shouldn’t have approached him. No matter, she was already next to the bench looking at an older version of Steve Rogers.

There were always jokes about Steve acting like such an old man. But now, he was right there. Sitting on the wooden bench with a relaxed smile on his face, his blue eyes facing the ocean. After hesitating back and forth with herself, Y/n sat down at the end of the bench to stare at the view with him, only she caught sight of a silver object around one of his fingers. The same ugly thing bubbled within her as she glared at the ring until his hands shifted and she finally looked at him.

Actually looked at him.

Steve was smiling. No, it wasn’t forced. It wasn’t a simple smile. This was his happiness. She could see it in his eyes as they lit up. In all her life, she had never seen someone so at peace and happy. So blissfully happy.

The brutal truth hit her in the face right then and there. She had been selfish. Y/n had wanted Steve to stay and be with her so they could both live a happy life. But that was not what he wanted. He was taken from his time and forced into this new one without having the normal life that he desired and deserved. She wanted him to stay somewhere he wasn’t meant to be. Now she understood the saying, the truth hurts. Maybe she knew the truth already and just denied it.

Y/n knew there was no way of stopping him. Why would she stop him from gaining his happiness? What kind of person would that make her?

“You kids didn’t get into too much trouble, did you?” She teased lightly, trying to smile.

There, his chuckle was throaty but warm. “You’ll never know.”

An amused smile curved onto her lips.

Then she was back. Back on that couch, during that night, next to Steve who had trailed off in his story telling and deep into his sinking thoughts. She noticed how much he did that whenever they talked about either Peggy or the forties. Her envious heart blinked back tears as she looked away from him bitterly, her jaw clenching and unclenching as she glared at the box of dumplings.

Maybe she should eat them.

Only she didn’t make a move for the box, she turned to stare back at his side profile, still in adoration. She couldn’t help herself. But it hurt that he would stare at her the same way.

“Do you still love her?”

His eyes twinkled as he stared back at her. There was no answer but you knew and he knew. It was unspoken, but they knew.

A tear rolled down her cheek as she stared at the older man in content. She sighed and wiped the rogue tear away from her cheek and turned her gaze to the view before them. He doesn’t return her feelings, this was her first love, and she knew now that love meant sacrifice, thanks to Tony. Maybe the best way to love Steve Rogers…

Was to let him go.

[heyyyharry]

Deep End - Chapter 5: Master of the House

…in which Ezi is home alone with Harry’s assistant.

Word count: 4.8k

AU: famous!harry, siren!mc, adult modern retelling of the little mermaid? lol, fake dating, enemies to lovers.

WARNING: MATURE THEMES

All chapters / Synopsis / Moodboard / Playlist

Wattpad link

A/N: PLEASEEEEEE LEMME KNOW WHAT YOU THINK! I'll write faster when I get a lot of comments 😩

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Harry pulled Ezi down the hallway to find the nearest bathroom. His head started to hurt as he thought about how his mother would react if she found out what Ezi had done. What he had done. He didn’t expect his cousin to run and tell anyone that he’d been attacked by a helpless girl and that Harry had beat the shit out of him afterwards. But someone might have seen that, and words could spread like a virus at these kinds of events. It’d be wiser to just walk away quietly.

When he had found a bathroom, an old lady stepped out, saw them and made a face, probably assuming the worst when she caught sight of the blood on Ezi’s face.

“I didn’t hit her,” Harry told the lady, only to receive a disgusted look in return.

She ignored him and turned to Ezi. “Honey, are you alright?”

Ezi offered a grin, showing her blood-stained teeth. “Yeah. It’s not my blood.”

The lady’s eyes widened in shock. Slowly, she took a step back, then ran off without another word.

Harry immediately shut the door behind them. “Wash your mouth,” he told Ezi, turned on the water, and as she washed her mouth in the sink, he took off his jacket, put it on the marble counter, and rolled up his sleeves.

Ezi hopped onto the counter and watched Harry soak the handkerchief he’d been carrying in his pocket.

“Face,” he ordered, and she lifted her chin so he could gently wipe off the blood around her mouth.

“I was defending myself,” she said once he’d finished and tossed the handkerchief into the bin at his feet.

“I know.” He shifted his eyes back to her. He didn’t mean to sound like a dick, but it seemed like he’d come off as one. He leaned to the side with his hand on the cool surface of the sink. “It’s not your fault. I know my cousin. His family is in debt because of his gambling addiction. I keep telling my mother to ban him from the manor, but she has too much respect for the fucker’s parents to do it.”

“So why did he call you trash?”

At that, Harry couldn’t help but cackle. “He did? Well, I think most people would think so. I haven’t done much to make my mother proud. She wanted her only son to take over our family’s business, but I wanted to become a singer, and yeah…”

Ezi blinked at him. She probably didn’t understand most of what he’d said, so he let it go and worked up a smile. “Sorry for oversharing. You okay?”

She nodded. “I’m not hurt. I was the one that bit him.”

“Are you feeling sorry for him now?”

“No. I would’ve eaten him if you hadn’t shown up.” The way she;d said with a straight face amused and scared Harry at the same time. “Although he didn’t taste as good now that I’m human and need my food cooked.”

“I’ll just assume that you weren’t serious.”

Harry picked up his jacket from the sink. Ezi hopped to her feet and reached for the doorknob, but he pulled her back to him by her wrist and swept his eyes over her body once again. “Where did he touch you?”

She pointed to her waist and showed him the red fingerprints around her forearm.

“Nowhere else?”

“Nowhere else.” She shook her head. “I don’t like being touched.”

A sense of discomfort filled Harry as he recalled how she’d said those same words after he’d yelled at her earlier. She must have been so scared. Tonight he deserved a trophy for being the biggest asshole alive.

“Nobody should touch you. Not even me.”

“You are touching me.”

Harry looked down at his fingers around her wrist and immediately let go. “From now on, nobody,” he said. “Only when you give them permission to touch you, okay?”

“What about handshakes?”

“Handshakes are fine. Wouldn’t recommend shaking hands with everyone, though. Germs and all that.” He stepped in closer and pretended to put his arms around her without touching her, just to demonstrate. “So hugs like this are for friends. You don’t usually do this to people you’ve just met. Unless they’re the ones on the street with the sign that says FREE HUGS. You’re allowed to hug those.”

“Got it.”

“And,” breathed Harry as he grabbed his nonexistent boobs. “This area is forbidden. Nobody is allowed to touch you here...unless you want them too, of course.”

“Why would I want them to?”

Harry ignored the question and went on, grabbing his bum. “Also this and the front area.” He gestured to his crotch. “Forbidden.”

“But I don’t have a tail.”

“You have something else that’s just as important as my tail.” He felt silly to say it, but it would have felt weird to say dick or penis to her face.

She put a finger to her lips; a line appeared between her brows as she pondered. “Speaking of something else, the hole--”

“Okay, not here! Save your questions for when we’re home.”

Harry grabbed her shoulders to spin her around, and she immediately smacked his hands and shot him a glare. “I didn’t give you permission to touch me.”

“Good. Love that attitude. But really, we need to leave before my mother finds out I almost killed someone in her home.”

He reached around Ezi and opened the door, bobbed his chin for her to go first, but she stood still, her face serious. “That wasn’t like you.”

“What do you mean?”

“Back there. You became someone else. You were...violent.”

“Well, yeah. Only because he deserved that.”

Ezi cocked her head to the side, her clear blue eyes squinted. “But he was one of your kind. And I’m not. So why were you protecting me?”

“Because he assaulted you. I don’t care if he was the Queen of England. I would’ve beat his ass still.” Seeing her perplexed expression, Harry let out a soft laugh. “Why’s it surprising? Didn’t you save me twice?”

Ezi averted her eyes and gave a small nod. “Yeah.”

“And you lost your tail for it, so it wasn’t a fair trade anyway.”

He waited for her to say something, but she didn’t, so he wrapped his jacket around her shoulders and told her to go.

They didn’t speak on the ride home. Harry wanted to lighten up the mood with his stupid jokes, but he was too agitated to say anything. They had left without saying goodbye to his mother or anyone, so he would probably be in so much trouble tomorrow. He had put his phone on airplane mode; his mother’s harsh words would have to wait. He also couldn’t help but think that if he hadn’t shown up, something worse could have happened to Ezi. Or his cousin. Or both. And it would’ve been his fault as well.

“Next time we go out, don’t do the opposite of what I tell you to do,” he told Ezi when they’d arrived home and gone upstairs to her room. “You’re even more stubborn than my cat. At least she’d stay put when I tell her to.”

“I was looking for you! I thought you’d left me.”

Harry tossed his keys onto a table and turned to look at Ezi. He put both hands on his hips. She was giving him those puppy dog’s eyes while fidgeting with her own fingers as if she hadn’t nearly torn open his cousin’s throat with her human teeth. He could not imagine what she could do with her siren fangs.

He let go a sigh and scratched his forehead. “You thought I’d left you?” His voice was lower now that he’d calmed down a bit. “So you don’t trust me?”

She said nothing, just staring back at him.

Calmly, he went on, “I brought you all the way here to London and risked it all to keep you in my house, Ezi. I had to speak to some of my relatives at the event, but I was going to come back for you. I told you to stay--”

“You lied to me.”

Frozen to the spot, Harry blinked. “About?”

“Dawson,” Ezi said. “I talked to Dawson.”

“You talked to Dawson?!”

“And he was a nice person.” Then, she had to reassure him, “Don’t worry. It was a short conversation, and I didn’t tell him much about myself.”

“Then how do you know he was a nice person?” Harry scoffed. “I mean, you barely know the lad.”

“He told me about manga, and he called me beautiful, and he doesn’t act friendly to his enemy.”

“Enemy?” Harry asked, but Ezi didn’t bother to explain.

“Why do you hate him?” she asked.

Harry snorted and rolled his eyes. “He’s a try-hard. I hate try-hards. My mother loves him, so of course you’d love him, too.”

“I wouldn’t call it love--”

“Good. Because he’s lame.”

Ezi tilted her head, looking puzzled. “What’s lame?”

“Boring. Not interesting.”

“Oh.” She gave an understanding nod. “Then you’re the lamest.”

“Okay, you know what?” Harry exhaled and pointed to her bedroom door. He had never felt more like a dad than he was now. “You’re grounded for a day. That means you’re not allowed to leave your room tomorrow.”

“How will I eat?”

“The food will be brought to your room.”

Ezi’s face turned red as she crossed her arms and stomped her foot. “You cannot imprison me!”

“It’s not imprisoning if you still get to play games and watch videos on your iPad.”

Harry knew Ezi loved the iPad. Her furrowed brows relaxed as soon as she heard that she got to keep it. “Fine.” She breathed. “I don’t want to see your face anyway. I’ll just be in my room with Chilli.”

“Good.”

“Good!”

Ezi shoved Harry aside as she stormed into her room and kicked the door shut. Harry stared at it for a moment. Then, he smiled, shook his head and went back to his room.

.

.

.

Ezili had a nightmare again.

This time, she’d returned to the ocean after failing her mission, and as punishment, her mother had turned her into a shrimp, while her sister had watched with a satisfied sneer.

A few moments after she’d woken up screaming, she heard Harry’s footsteps pounding down the hallway before he burst into her room, panting as he asked if she was alright. She almost said that she was now that he was here, but she didn’t and only answered with a nod.

“Okay,” Harry gave a crooked smile. “Just...wake me up if you need anything.”

“Wait.” The word slipped out before Ezili could stop herself.

Harry raised his eyebrows in surprise. “Yeah?”

She rubbed her hands onto her thighs, feeling the smoothness of the fabric of her nightgown, which brought her a sense of comfort. In the semi-darkness of her room, Harry looked strangely handsome with his messy hair and sleepiness in his heavy hooded eyes. She wondered why he had to be all groomed most of the time when he already looked good without trying.

For a second, she forgot what she was about to say then flinched when he called her name.

“Can you sleep here with me tonight?” she asked.

Harry looked stiff, his lips slightly parted.

“If you want to,” she quickly added. When she was living under the sea, she had hated sharing her space with the other sirens, so she could imagine how uncomfortable Harry must feel about her request. Still, she knew if he was around, she wouldn’t have nightmares. If she focused on his presence, then she wouldn’t think about her mother and sister and the task that seemed impossible to complete. Besides, she wanted to be as close to him as possible, learn his behaviours, and slowly slip into his mind and then his heart.

“I mean…” He scratched the back of his head and awkwardly looked around the room. “I guess I could sleep on the sofa over there.”

“There’s plenty of space on this bed,” she said, patting the spot beside her.

His mouth curled. “I know. I just don’t want you to feel uncomfortable. After what happened tonight, I thought you wouldn’t want to be near a man anymore.”

Ezili shrugged. “Well, I’ll try not to hate you tonight.”

Harry rested a shoulder against the doorframe and rubbed his chin. “Well, well, well, are you saying that I chase your bad dreams away?”

“Yes, because you’re already a living nightmare.”

Her response made him laugh. At this point, she could conclude that he enjoyed being degraded.

He narrowed his eyes at her. “How’s your English so good? I thought you must speak a language for sirens, no?”

“We speak Séren back home.”

“Oh, cool. Say something in your language.”

“T’ko thikc mei vie mei zua zi.”

“Damn. What does it mean?”

“I don’t like you because you’re ugly.”

Harry’s smile vanished, making Ezili explode in laughter. When she saw the way he was gawking at her, probably because she had never laughed like that before, she forced herself to stop and cleared her throat. “Yeah, so that’s Séren.”

“How do you speak English so well then?”

“Not just English. I also speak French, Danish, and German.”

“Wow. Your fish schools teach human languages?”

Ezili made a disgusted face. “No. I learn them from hearing the conversations of the sailors on the boats.”

“Makes sense.” Harry nodded slowly. “You seem like a fast learner. Way too fast; it’s scary. Maybe your brain is even more developed than mine.”

“Thank you.”

“Now that I’ve entertained you--”

“You’ve done nothing. I did all the talking.”

“I gave you a topic to talk about. Don’t be mean.” Harry rolled his eyes. “Anyway, now that you’re entertained, do you still want me to stay?”

Ezili thought for a second and nodded.

“Alright,” Harry breathed and shut the door behind him. “I’ll stay. Scoot over.”

“You’re permitted to touch me tonight,” Ezili said.

Harry froze when he’d sat down on the edge of the bed. “What?”

Was there something wrong with his hearing? He’d asked her to repeat a lot of things tonight.

“You’re permitted to touch me tonight,” she told him again in annoyance. “You might touch my hand or arm when you sleep. I can’t hold you accountable for that.”

“That’s not--” He exhaled and pinched the bridge of his nose, eyes closed. “You know what? Good for you. Keep that attitude when you’re with any man. I’m a man myself, but most of us are pigs.”

“You mean all of you.”

“I literally just lay down and you’re already insulting me.”

“Fine. I’ll stop,” Ezili said, smiling as she watched Harry adjust the covers to make himself comfortable.

“I can’t sleep with you staring at me like that,” he said with one eye shut and the other half-opened.

Pouting, Ezili turned over with her back to him. Harry’s throaty laugh made her stomach clench, but in a good way. “Ezi,” he whispered. “I was only joking.”

She completely ignored him, pretending she was asleep. He was quiet for the next few moments, and when she looked back to check, he was already sleeping. She thought he was playing, so she called his name and lightly pulled a strand of his hair, but he didn’t react. He was lying on his back, his mouth slightly open as he breathed, chest rising and falling in a calming rhythm. She pushed up on one elbow and peered down at his face. She hadn’t observed him this close before. Well, not since their first encounter on the beach. The last time, however, had been in a different situation, and she hadn’t got time to properly study him. Humans were exquisite-looking creatures. She would never admit aloud, but she had always envied them for it.

She started counting his eyelashes and connecting the freckles on his face. The more she looked, the more fascinating he became. It had amazed her how he’d rescued her instead of another human. And not just any human, but his family. She would never betray her kind for a human. Her rescuing him twice had been an act to gain his trust, when the whole purpose of this mission was to have him dead at the end.

Slowly and carefully, she moved closer and gently pressed her ear to his chest. She could hear it. The thumping of his heart, pumping blood through his veins, keeping him alive. He would be dead without that heart. Sadly, so would she.

.

.

.

“Good morning?” Harry said in a tone of a question when he woke up and found Ezi standing in front of the window with her back straight and arms to her sides, like one of those guards in front of Buckingham Palace. “Helloooo?”

“Shhhh. I’m meditating.”

“Who meditates standing up?” He snorted. “Man, you’ve been watching too much YouTube.”

“TikTok. And I’m not a man.”

“Wait, you’re on TikTok now?”

Ezi released a long breath and turned around to face him, hands on her hips. Sunlight filtered through the thin material of her blue nightgown, and Harry looked away as fast as he could before he got hard over a nipple or something. He wasn’t a bad guy. It was only--

“Seven in the morning,” he groaned into the pillow and fell back to the bed. “Fucking hell.”

“It’s morning, so you’re not welcome in my bed anymore.”

He removed the pillow to glare at her. “Ungrateful little minx. Said that after I’d chased away all the nightmares.”

“Go before I send Chilli to take you out.”

As if she heard her name, Chilli appeared in the doorway and licked her little paw while sending Harry a death look.

“You’re siding with the enemy now, huh?” he asked the cat.

“Why not?” Ezi said. “She’s a smart girl.”

Harry groaned loudly as he pushed himself out of bed and started doing some stretches. “Remember,” he told Ezi, who was watching him with her arms crossed and a judgy look on her face. How did she manage to look this good at seven in the morning? Totally unfair. “Remember,” he repeated as he almost forgot what he was trying to say. “You’re grounded. So you can’t leave your room today, but the food will be brought to you. You’re allowed to use the bathroom down the hall.”

“Fine.”

“Fine.” He ruffled his hair and gestured at her. “Now continue doing...that...thing that you were doing.”

“Meditating.”

“Whatever,” he chuckled. “Weirdo.”

.

.

.

“Good morning, Mr Boss!” said Amy, Harry’s assistant, as he went downstairs. She’d just arrived with the flowers for his living room.

“Morning, Ames. Any updates?”

“All in the email I sent you, Boss. Also, your mother called...52 times.”

“Yeah, I’ll deal with her,” Harry gave the girl a tight smile as he fixed his hair in the giant mirror by the stairs. “Thank you so much.”

“Did you watch the season finale of Master of the House?” Amy asked, smiling at his reflection in the mirror.

He turned around, grinning back at her. He liked how Amy was always so enthusiastic, but at the same time, found it difficult to match her energy. “No, been too busy. What happened?”

“I won’t spoil.” She giggled and started replacing the flowers in the vase in the centre of the living room with the new ones. “You should watch it this week and we’ll discuss.”

“I will.” When he got to the door, Harry did a spin as he remembered what he almost forgot. “Amy, can you stay here and wait for Niall to come? Also, there’s a girl sleeping upstairs. Don’t wake her.”

Amy’s usual grin had never disappeared so fast. Her hand that was holding a rose froze midair when she asked, “Was it the girl I saw the other day?”

“Yeah.”

“Your new girlfriend?”

“Just a friend.” Harry knew Amy had a little crush on him. It was harmless, so he didn’t really care. “I gotta go,” he told her, pretending he couldn’t see through her frown. “Wait for Niall.”

“Okay.” She forced a toothy grin and waved. “Have a great day, Boss!”

.

.

.

This shirt was too big for Ezili. She shook her head, tongue stuck out at the corner of her lips as she reached further into the closet to get the dark blue t-shirt at the back.

As she pulled the pink shirt she was wearing over her head and put on the blue one. She heard the door to the closet creak open. Her chest nearly exploded. It was just Chilli.

She gave the cat a look. “What?”

The cat meowed at her.

“Yeah, I know he said I couldn’t leave my room and was only allowed to use the bathroom, but I’m bored.” She slipped on a white tennis skirt and sat down on the floor to put on a pair of white shoes. She struggled with the strings, but somehow still managed to tie them into two nice bows like she’d seen on those tutorials.

Twirling in front of the mirror, she asked Chilli, “Do you think I look good?”

Chilli responded by rubbing her tiny head against Ezili’s ankle. Ezili took it as a yes.

Their moment was interrupted by a loud thump from downstairs. Speaking of which, Ezili hadn’t heard from Harry all morning. He’d left breakfast for her at the door and disappeared to who knew where. She probably should go check on him.

Chilli followed her to the living room, both forgetting that Ezili wasn’t supposed to go downstairs. But it didn’t matter anymore, because instead of Harry, she found the green-haired girl lying on her stomach on the white cushioned sofa with her feet in the air and a half-finished bag of chips on the coffee table.. The sound Ezili had heard was the result of the chair this girl had knocked over yet didn’t bother to pick up.

Ezili hesitated for a moment behind the bookcase behind the girl. Before she decided to speak up, the girl did. She was on the phone with someone.

“So the master of the house was taken care of.”

Master of the house?

Harry?

“Nah, I think that girl is dead, too,” the green-haired girl giggled. What was so funny about death? “No, I don’t mean like dead now. But if she attacks, then the team will take her out.”

Ezili shivered. Could she be talking about Ezili? The master of the house was Harry. This green-haired monster had murdered Harry, and Ezili was the next target.

“What do you mean I don’t know that? I’m the expert. I’ve watched stuff like this all the time. Believe me. There’s no way she’s not getting caught. I can’t wait for the world to find out who she really is.”

Ezili went numb until she felt Chilli around her ankle. She put a finger to her lips to order the cat to stay quiet otherwise they’d both die. Picking up the cat, she walked quietly to the front door and slipped out before the green-haired girl found out she’d left her room. She must run away. She’d rather die by her mother’s hands than become a prisoner to humans.

The problem was: she didn’t know where she was.

How far was the ocean from here? She remembered having flown across the sky inside the iron bird, so this land must be very far from home.

“Watch where you’re going, crazy bitch!”

Ezili screamed when a car made a loud noise that almost blew up her ears. She stumbled backwards to the side of the road as the man inside the car gave her a look of contempt and drove off.

She hugged Chilli tighter to her chest. Relax, the voice inside her head said. I know you’ll figure out what to do.

She inhaled deeply and--

“Ezili?”

The sound of her name felt like a splash of water on a hot day. She shot her focus to the white car with the window rolled down and saw a familiar handsome face with glasses.

“Dawson!”

Dawson poked his head out of the window. He was wearing a plain white t-shirt and blue jeans -- the opposite image of the person she’d met last night. “Hey, where are you going?” he asked, looking concerned. “With the cat. Where’s Harry?”

“He’s dead,” Ezili told him quietly. She couldn’t let them find out that she’d escaped.

To her surprise, Dawson laughed. Could it be that he was one of them?

“Sooo dead. His mum sent me to check on him because she’s raging and he doesn’t answer his phone. But don’t worry. This happens all the time. He’s like a cat. Got nine lives.”

Ezili rapidly shook her head. “There was a girl in there. Green hair—”

“Harry’s assistant?”

“Yeah, that girl!” She continued nodding. “She was talking on the phone with someone. She said that the m-master of the house i-is dead.”

“Shit.” Dawson’s face grew dim. Maybe he’d finally understood. “She spoiled you the season finale?”

What?

“That sucks. But don’t worry, there’s still more.”

“What?”

“Master of the House. The Netflix show.”

It took Ezili’s brain a few moments to process, then she realised she had made a fool out of herself for nothing. Of course the green-haired girl wasn’t talking about killing Harry. It was a Netflix show!

Sighing in relief, she threw on a smile. “Oh, right. Yeah, that really shocked me. Harry’s not home, by the way.”

Dawson grimaced. “You okay? Where were you running off to?”

“Uhhh.” Ezili straightened her back. “W-Where were you running off to? I mean, driving.”

Dawson chuckled. He also had dimples like Harry’s, just not as prominent. “I came to see Harry but since he’s not home.” He peered around her to the front gate of Harry’s house. “I guess I’ll go to the bookstore today.” Another smile at Ezili. Unlike Harry, this one smiled a lot. And Ezili was keen on it. “Wanna come?”

Go with him?

Yes, yes she absolutely wanted that.

Harry wasn’t going to let her explore this new land anyway. And after the incident this morning, it was for the best if she knew her way around here, to escape when she must. Still, she remembered how angry he’d been last night about her not doing what he’d told her to do and putting herself in danger. She was about to turn down the offer when Chilli jumped out of her arms and into the car with Dawson. She sat casually on Dawson’s lap, gazing up at Ezili.

Dawson beamed. “Looks like the cat’s made up its mind.”

Ezili rolled her eyes, threw her head back and groaned. “Her name’s Chilli,” she said. “But, fine. I’ll go with you.”

.

.

.

Niall felt like the main character today as he skipped up the steps to Harry’s door. Harry had asked him for a favour again. Because where else would his best friend turn to when things got rough? Niall knew that he was helpful and the best friend Harry could ask for. Still, he tried to stay humble about it.

“Sup, Ames.” He waved at Harry’s assistant, who opened the door for him. “Did you like my new TikTok?”

“With all five of my accounts. I got you, Nialler,” Amy said as she leaned against the staircase while chewing gum in her mouth.

Niall shrugged off his coat and hung it up. “Thanks, love. Sorry I’m late. Mikasa was wild this morning. I’m literally exhausted.”

“Uh, TMI?”

“What do you mean? It’s just yoga. She and her ‘I’m a therapist. Yoga will be good for your mental health’. She thinks I’m in love with her and would do anything for her. And you know what? She’s absolutely correct. Now where’s the girl?”

Amy looked confused for a second before she realised who he was referring to. “Oh, the pale girl? I saw her leave with Dawson Styles.”

“What?!”

“Yeah, she got into his car with Chilli. Is she really Harry’s girlfriend? I don’t like her. She didn’t say hello to me the first time and not this morning, either.”

“Shit, shit, shit.” Niall grabbed his head. “Sick girl on the loose. Sick girl on the loose. Thanks Ames.” Ignoring Amy looking baffled, he pulled out his phone and called Harry. The endless ringing only got him more frustrated. “Pick up, you motherfucker. It’s always the Nialler who has to save the day.”

Harry picked up after what seemed like a million beeps. “Don’t tell me someone’s injured. It’s only been an hour.”

“Worse!” Niall almost yelled. “Dawson kidnapped the girl!”

[swan-of-sunrise]

Civil War (Chapter Six)

Summary: Bucky’s suspicious escape from the Joint Counter Terrorist Centre and the fallout surrounding it makes (Y/N) reevaluate her opinion of the Accords.

Pairing: Steve Rogers X Reader

Word Count: 2.8k

Warnings/Disclaimers: None

A/N: Last week’s chapter was really angsty and it kinda took a toll on me so here’s a sort of short filler chapter with slightly less angst! Thank you for reading, I hope you all enjoy!

Chapter Six (Previous Chapter)

While she couldn’t claim to be a spy or secret agent, (Y/N) had picked up a thing or two from hanging around so many of them over the past couple of years; she knew that Bucky would eventually need an exit once he was finished tearing through everyone in the building, and it was a safe bet to assume that the skilled assassin would choose to fly himself out of there instead of travel on foot at the risk of being apprehended. She was quick to locate the building’s stairwell, hurrying up the steps as the emergency lights and alarms continued to blare; when she reached the top floor, she flung open the door and stepped out into the dark and deserted hallway.

“God, I hope this thing works…” Mumbling under her breath, (Y/N) fiddled with the dials of the walkie talkie until she could hear the indistinct chatter of voices, only letting out a sigh of relief when she finally heard the one she needed to speak to. “Agent Ross, this is (Y/N) (Y/L/N). I need backup on the-”

“(Y/L/N), what the hell are you doing?!”

“Your job, it would seem! I’m on the top floor and have reason to believe that-!”

Just then, a metallic hand came out of nowhere and ripped the walkie talkie from her hands, crushing it to pieces before tossing it aside. (Y/N) acted on instinct, rolling underneath Bucky’s outstretched arm and pulling a stun disc out of her pocket; landing upright, she chucked the stun disc at his metallic arm and took advantage of the assassin’s distraction to sweep his legs out from underneath him with one of her own.

“Your name is James Buchanan Barnes, and you were a Sergeant in the U.S. Army during World War II!” She shouted, keenly aware that the distraction would only last a few more seconds. “You were Steve Rogers’ best friend and a Howling Commando!” Hastily backing out of the way, she watched with widened eyes as he ripped the electrified stun disc off his arm and leapt to his feet. “Bucky, I don’t believe that you bombed the U.N. but you need to stop and remember who you are!”

Bucky’s face was blank and devoid of any emotion, a far cry from the frightened man in the containment cell. He stalked towards her and while she had just enough time to duck the first punch he threw her way, she couldn’t dodge the second; the force of his fist’s impact on her jaw sent her flying back and crashing to the ground, her wrist screaming in protest as she tried and failed to break her fall. While he strode down the hallway to where she was sprawled on the floor, she hurriedly ripped all the stun discs out of her pocket and began throwing them as she crawled backwards. He avoided each and every stun disc she threw, but it bought her enough time to pick herself up off the ground and side-step his next attack; before she could land a kick or punch, though, his metal hand shot out and grabbed her by the throat, lifting her easily into the air and slamming her hard against the wall.

(Y/N)’s hands came up to uselessly clutch at the metal fingers that were digging into her skin and her legs kicked out in desperation as she struggled for air; just as her vision was beginning to darken her eyes focused on the small tear in the sleeve of his shirt and the corner of a red star it barely revealed, and in desperation she cried out, “Sol…Soldat!”

The assassin froze, and (Y/N) watched as his hardened expression shifted into confusion. His metallic hand quickly loosened and she instantly crumpled to the floor, coughing and gasping for air, unable to move or even defend herself. Bucky’s heavy footsteps faded away and with a wheezing breath, she lifted her head in time to see Steve burst through the same stairwell door she’d come through moments before.

“(Y/N)!?” He hurried to her side and dropped down, his grease-smudged face filled with pure panic as he tugged her into his arms. “Oh God, you’re bleeding…!”

Steve’s free hand came up to touch her scratched jaw but she grabbed his wrist to halt his movement, ignoring how his brow furrowed in confusion as she whispered, “G-go, Steve…Bucky’s heading for…for the helipad…”

He firmly shook his head, blue eyes already set in determination. “No, baby, I’m not leaving you.”

“Bucky needs you!” (Y/N) insisted, suppressing her wince of pain as she stared up at him with a fiery resolve; sensing the conflict within the super-soldier, she released his wrist and gently rested her hand against his cheek with a sad smile. “Go.”

After a moment’s hesitation, Steve nodded and carefully eased her back onto the ground, giving her one final look before running down the hallway after the assassin; right before he turned the corner, she closed her eyes, unwilling to watch as the love of her life chased after the deadly assassin by himself.

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

For the second time in two days, (Y/N) quietly sat and allowed herself to be patched up by a kindly paramedic. Not only did she still have a ruptured eardrum, she also had a large laceration along her jaw that required five stitches, a sprained wrist that was secured in a sturdy brace and a smattering of darkening finger-shaped bruises around her neck. Others weren’t as lucky as you were, she reminded herself, sadness washing over her as she thought of all the critically injured and dead CIA agents who’d also encountered the dangerous Winter Soldier during his rampage.

Once the paramedics finished treating her wounds, she made her way back to the control room and was immediately met by a sympathetic Natasha. “Here, I got you some tea with honey; it’ll help your throat feel better.” The spy handed her a warm to-go cup before wrapping an arm around her shoulders and leading her into the glass-walled conference room, where Tony was already seated and resting his bruised head in his hand. “Secretary Ross’s gonna be here in a few minutes, hot-shot, so please try to be on your best behavior no matter what he says to rile you up.”

(Y/N) merely nodded and took a sip of her tea, wincing in pain as she swallowed. The injuries to her throat didn’t stop her from speaking but her own conscious did; she was beginning to realize that no matter what she could say or do to convince them that Bucky was innocent, they’d never listen and even if they did, there was nothing they could do about it under the Sokovia Accords. So, she made the decision to bide her time and wait until the right moment to bring up her theory.

The three of them sat together in weary silence, the turmoil of the past two days seeming to catch up to them, until Secretary Ross barged into the conference room with his trademark sneer on his face. “You two wanna fill me in on what happened and why a civilian’s still sitting in the middle of a covert CIA control room?”

As if sensing (Y/N)’s simmering irritation, Natasha stood and moved to lean against the back of her chair, placing a calming hand on her shoulder as she replied, “Barnes escaped custody with the aid of the U.N. psychiatrist sent to evaluate him; they knocked out the power grid to the city and used it as a distraction, and (Y/N) here was already in the building for questioning. She’s one of the many who tried and failed to stop Barnes from leaving the building.”

“After taking (Y/L/N) out of commission, Barnes tried leaving in a chopper but ended up crashing it on the helipad; he, Rogers and Wilson are all missing in action.” Tony glanced over at (Y/N) before returning his gaze to the Secretary of State. “That’s all we’ve got.”

“I don’t suppose you have any idea where they are?”

“We will, GSG-9’s got the borders covered, and Recon’s flying 24/7. They’ll get a hit; we’ll handle it.”

Secretary Ross scoffed at the billionaire. “You don’t get it, Stark, it’s not yours to handle. It’s clear you can’t be objective, so I’m putting Special Ops on this.”

The spy’s hand on her shoulder flexed. “What happens when the shooting starts? What, do you kill Steve Rogers?”

“If we’re provoked,” (Y/N)’s eyes widened in horror and in her shock, she almost missed what Ross said next. “Barnes would’ve been eliminated in Romania if it wasn’t for Rogers; there are dead people who would be alive now. Feel free to check my math.”

Tony’s eyes flicked over to meet theirs, an uncomfortable look filling his gaze as he turned back to Ross. “All due respect, you’re not going to solve this with boys and bullets, Ross. You gotta let us bring them in.”

“How would that end any differently from the last time?” The Secretary of State demanded.

The billionaire’s expression hardened at Ross’ silent implications. “Because this time, I won’t be wearing loafers and a silk shirt. Seventy-two hours, guaranteed.”

“Thirty-six hours,” Ross corrected, giving them all a pointed look before turning and walking out of the conference room, calling out over his shoulder, “Barnes…Rogers…Wilson…”

“Thank you, sir!” The glass door closed and Tony slumped in his seat with an exhausted sigh as he clutched his left arm. “My left arm is numb, is that normal?”

Moving around the table, Natasha patted the billionaire on his shoulder. “You all right?”

The two Avengers continued to talk in low tones but (Y/N) couldn’t focus on what they were saying; all she could think of were Secretary Ross’ cold-blooded words and the way he’d said them without so much as a hint of remorse. What horrified her more, though, was the fact that Tony and Natasha didn’t appear to be bothered by the threat against the lives of their former teammates. This is all wrong, she thought as her vision began to blur with unshed tears, her heart sinking into her stomach while she realized that Steve’s worst fears about the Accords were materializing right before her very eyes; blinking away her tears, she looked down at her now-bare ring finger and the longer she stared, the more her anger with the two Avengers grew.

“…head downstairs to talk to T’Challa. I’ll bring (Y/N) with me, since he seems to tolerate her more than the rest of us.”

“Before you do, though, she’s gonna need to sign the Accords; I don’t want Ross looking for any excuses to arrest her so we need to do this by the books.” She looked back up as Tony and Natasha turned to her, the billionaire’s brow raised in expectation while he continued. “That okay with you, Austen?”

(Y/N) was silent for a long moment and when she finally spoke, it was with a forced calmness and a clenched jaw. “Did I ever tell you two what my new novel Bring A Folding Chair is about? It chronicles the rise and fall of second-wave feminism in America as told through the eyes of a young investigative journalist.” Getting up from her seat, she crossed her arms over her chest and began pacing. “I focus on the successes of the movement while also highlighting its failures and shortcomings, because even the most well-intended things can inadvertently end up hurting others.” (Y/N) shook her head in agitation and glanced over at the two confused Avengers. “When it came to the Accords, I knew from the moment Secretary Ross told us about them that they were wrong, but I turned a willful blind eye to the truth because I was selfish and only cared about saving my relationship with Steve. But now…now my eyes are wide open.”

“(Y/N), take it easy-”

“Do not tell me to take it easy when you just sat there and listened to Ross practically order a hit on three people – two of which are your friends – who haven’t been legally convicted of any wrongdoing!” She yelled as her sore throat ached in protest but she ignored it, all the frustration and pain that had been building up inside of her finally boiling over. “Steve was right when he said I was too idealistic; I thought the world was made up of enough good people who would keep the Accords from becoming too authoritative but unfortunately, it’s made up of cowards like us who are only looking out for our own self-interests.” Her gaze shifted from Tony’s stunned expression to Natasha, whose face remained neutral but whose eyes conveyed the pain her words had caused; she swallowed the lump in her throat and nodded before continuing. “Well, I don’t know about you two but I can’t do it anymore.”

Without another word, (Y/N) stormed out into the control room and down one of the hallways to Agent Ross’ office, her uninjured hand curled into a fist at her side as she walked; the door of the agent’s office was open and he was in deep conversation with Sharon Carter, who was tapping away on a tablet while they talked. They both looked over at her as she entered the office, and Agent Ross’ brow furrowed in concern while he took in her injuries and stony expression. “Miss (Y/L/N). Agent 13 told me that you got roughed up pretty badly earlier; are you okay?”

“I’m fine, Agent Ross. Am I free to go?” The agent raised his brow, looking more amused that surprised by her demanding question, and she gritted her teeth before continuing. “In the past forty-eight hours I’ve attended a friend’s funeral, was nearly blown up in a suspected terrorist attack, was unjustly interrogated for several continuous hours, broke off my engagement to the love of my life and was nearly killed again by a brainwashed assassin. I’m filthy, I’m injured, I’m exhausted, and I’m just one more incident away from completely losing my shit so can I please leave now?”

Sharon cast her a fleeting glance and took a step forward. “Sir, she’s already given multiple statements to our agents and…well, to be frank, the Joint Terrorism Task Force is already facing scrutiny for not stopping Barnes’ escape. The criticism will only intensify when the news outlets catch wind that we’re holding an injured, world-famous author without probable cause.” Agent Ross considered her words, and Sharon shot her a warning glance before continuing. “I’ll drive her to a nearby hotel and keep an eye on her in case Rogers tries getting into contact; based on the events of the last few hours, though, I’m not so sure that he will.”

“All right,” He finally answered, his expression softening a little as he looked back at her. “But for the time being, Miss (Y/L/N), consider yourself on the no-fly list.”

Nodding in thanks, (Y/N) glanced back at Sharon and the agent gave her a brief smile. “I’ve got a few things to wrap up here so I’ll meet you down in the parking garage in ten.” She reached into her pockets and withdrew her car keys, pressing them into her open palm with another fleeting smile. “My car’s the grey Audi parked by the stairwell.”

(Y/N) walked out of the office and down the hallway but since the mechanics were still working on fixing the elevators after the power-outage, she was forced to take the stairs all the way down to the underground parking garage. She quickly located the agent’s car and unlocked it, climbing into the passenger seat and buckling her seat-belt; now that she was finally alone, she couldn’t stop herself as she lowered her head into her hands and cried, allowing all the pent-up emotions inside of her to finally be set free. In that moment, all she wanted to do was go back to when everything was normal, back before Lagos and her constant fighting with Steve and the goddamn Accords; it wasn’t perfect, of course, but it was a hundred times better than what they were all currently going through. “I’m so sorry, Steve…”

As her sobs finally began to subside, the stairwell door opened and Sharon walked through the doorway; she took a steadying breath and wiped the last of her tears away just as the agent opened the driver-side door and got it. Sharon reached over and opened the glove-box to reveal a package of tissues, flashing her a brief and sympathetic smile as she pulled one out and blew her nose. “I tend to start feeling better after I’ve had a good cry. How ‘bout you?”

“Not really, I still feel like shit except now my eyes itch and my nose is running,” (Y/N) half-heartedly quipped, dabbing at the corners of her eyes and sighing. “So, you know any good hotels around here?”

“The Kurhotel Strӧszek’s nice and it’s not too far from here, so that’ll make Agent Ross happy. On our way, we’ll stop at a pharmacy and pick you up some first aid sup-” The ringing of Sharon’s cell phone interrupted her words and she was quick to answer it. “Agent 13 here…Steve?” (Y/N) instantly perked up and with a brief gesture for her to stay quiet, the agent switched to speakerphone. “Okay, I’m alone. What’s up?”

“We’ve figured out what’s going on,” Steve’s voice answered through the phone’s speaker and (Y/N) bit her lip to keep from making a sound at the comforting timbre. “The doctor framed Bucky for the U.N. bombing in order to find out where Hydra kept him. They created five other Winter Soldiers back in the 90’s and had them cryogenically frozen; he’s planning on waking them, says he’s doing it to see an empire fall.”

“So, you three need your gear before you can go after him.”

The super-soldier sighed. “I know that it’s a lot to ask, Sharon-”

“You’re trying to stop a squad of murderous super-soldiers from taking over the world, Rogers; if this is how I can help stop that from happening, then I’m in. I’ll send you a message when I’ve got the gear and we’ll arrange a meeting.”

“Thank you, Sharon, I owe you one. How…how’s (Y/N) doing?”

“She’s okay; lacerated jaw, sprained wrist and a whole lot of bruising, but she’s fine.” Steve breathed a deep sigh of relief that made (Y/N)’s heart warm and the agent gave her a sideways glance before continuing. “You should know that she’s refused to sign the Accords. I’ve been assigned to escort her to a hotel, where she’ll stay until she’s taken off the CIA’s no-fly list and can go back home…”

There was silence over the line and just as she began wondering if they’d somehow been disconnected, Steve quietly spoke, “I’ve already asked you for one favor but can I bother you for another?”

“Sure, what is it?”

“If I write a letter, can you make sure that it gets to (Y/N)? There’s a lot that I need to tell her and since I don’t know what’ll happen where we’re going…well, she deserves answers one way or another.”

Sharon’s eyes flicked between (Y/N)’s saddened expression and the cell phone in her hand as she nodded. “Of course, I’ll pick it up when I hand over your gear. Talk to you later, Rogers.”

Hanging up, the agent tucked the phone into her pocket and quickly started the engine, buckling up and driving at a steady speed through the parking garage and out onto the street; (Y/N) fiddled with the hem of her wrinkled shirt for a thought-filled moment before stating, “You’ve already got a plan.”

“Let’s just say that I’ve been prepared to follow through on a favor like this one for a while now,” Sharon spared her a sideways glance and focused back on the road. “But I won’t say anything else about it on the off-chance the CIA decides to question you somewhere down the line; the last thing I want is for you to be charged with aiding and abetting in the theft of government property.”

(Y/N) glanced down at her bare ring finger and thought back on Steve’s words during his phone call; she was desperate to find out what was in the letter but at the same time, she knew in her heart that she needed to hear whatever it was directly from him. The thought reminded her of their conversation about the problems within their relationship in the London hotel’s bar, the last truly calm moment they’d shared before everything went sideways…

“Whatever it is, we can work through it together. We make a damn good team, after all.”

“Of course we do, sunshine.”

There’s something I have to do before Steve and the others go after those super-soldiers, (Y/N) thought to herself, her shoulders squared in determination as she turned to glance at Sharon beside her and pondered the best way to ask the spy for a third and final favor.

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

Russian Translation: Soldat-Soldier

A/N: Next chapter will have even less angst so yay! Thank you all so much for reading and commenting! I’ve created a Spotify playlist inspired by this series, and I’ll be updating it every time I upload a new chapter. Enjoy!

Spotify Playlist:  https://open.spotify.com/playlist/4TsJ2TY1F2HDXhEYOfzCjY?si=b1abdaeccc4c4d21

Chapter Seven

Civil War Masterlist

Tagging: @mrs-obrien​​​​​ @lahoete​​​​​ @awkward117​ @cminr​​​​​ @natdrunk​​​​​​ @momc95​​​​​ @savedbystyle​​​​​ @miraculouscloud​ @awkwardnesshabitat​​​​​ @marinettepotterandplagg​​​​​ @khuang3​​​​​ @supersouthy​​​​​ @benakenalove​​​​​ @brooke0297​​​​​ @hufflepeople​​​​​ @becausewelie​​​​​​ @outoftheregular​​​​​ @supreme-tantrum​​​​​ @ladydmalfoy​​​​​ @mads-weasley​​​​​ @username23345​​​​​ @crist1216​​​​​ @aesthethickks​​

[melianwrites]

Insecure

↳genre: fluff, comfort, slight angst

↳ featuring: Reki Kyan + Langa Hasegawa + Rekis mom

↳ paring: Reki kyan x reader

↳ form: one shot

↳ fandom: Sk8 the infinity

↳ pronouns: not specified

↳ word count: 1.1k

↳ Summary: Reki gets insecure about the words of others, thinking that y/n deserves better.

↳ warnings: you'll be making out on the bed so yeah

You and Reki have been dating for a while but only told everyone recently. You would always hang out with him and Langa after school, skating or doing other things. Of course, you went on dates too. Most of them took place either at his house or at the skate park. You would grab ice cream or some other sweets on your way back too.

Everything was okay for the first few weeks but after Rekis race with ADAM everything started to go down hill. Everytime you'd come to 'S', people would whisper how you would be better of with Langa or anybody else but not him. You were pretty skilled, so people respected you there and of course you would have told them to shut up if you knew what they were saying but you didn't seem to notice it. Reki tried to ignore it and keep his signature smile but every time he heard it, every time he saw you skate with Langa and the others, looking like and angel, he started believing it more and more.

It all got worse when people at school started saying that. Langa was very popular and a lot of girls envied you for being able to spend so much time with him. Of course, you only treated the blue haired boy as a close friend, nothing less, nothing more.

-hey, y/n, why are you dating that red haired guy? - asked one of the girls you were eating lunch with.

-yeah, I meen you might have a shot at dating Langa since you're so close to him, why date another guy? - said another.

Your blood boiled at their words but you tried to keep your cool.

-Langa's not really my type. Sure he's a good friend but nothing else. I love Reki because of his personality. He's always there for me when I need him and always knows what to say to make me feel better - you answered smiling to yourself at the thought of your boyfriend.

The girls looked at you like they wanted to say something but didn't. You sighed, looking down at your food. You understood that everyone has a different taste but it hurt you when you heard people talking bad about Reki.

After school you waited out side for Reki to go home together but he was nowhere to be seen. You leaned on a wall, thinking that the teacher might be keeping him in class a little longer.

You waited like that for a few minutes until you saw Langa but to your surprise, only him.

- hey Langa, where is Reki? - you asked walking up to him.

-maybe he went home, he left right as the bell rang - Langa answered, looking just as confused as you.

Without thinking you turned around and started running to Rekis house. He would never leave without you and Langa unless there was a good reason. Now that you thought about it, he did seem pretty down the whole day. He wasn't his usual energetic self. He didn't act like the Reki you fell in love with and you were going to do everything to get the old him back.

You arrived at his door, taking a few minutes to catch your breath. You pushed the gate open, speedwalking to the door and knocking on it. His mom opened it and greeted you with a smile.

-Hello y/n!

-Hello Mrs. Kyan, is Reki here by any chance? - you asked

-yes, he came back a few minutes ago but he seemed down. He said to leave him alone- Rekis mom answered letting you in.

-can I at least try talking to him? - you asked taking off your shoes.

-of course dear - the woman answered with a smile.

-thank you Mrs. Kyan - you bowed and speedwalked to your boyfriends room.

You stood in front of his door your hand in a fist, thinking weather you should knock or just go in. You decided to knock.

-go away mom, I told you to leave me alone! - Reki yelled from the other side of the door.

-Reki it's me, y/n - you said, your face close to the door. It was silent for a second, then you heard shuffling for a couple of seconds until the door opened to reveal Reki with flushed cheeks and slightly red eyes. The moment you saw him you knew he's been crying.

-do you need anything? - he asked coldly, his smile no where to be seen.

-you didn't wait for me at the gate and you seemed sad the whole day so I wanted to know if you're okay - you said reaching for his hand but he snatched it away shoving it in his pocket.

-well, i'm fine, so you can go somewhere with Langa or something, you two are better off without me anyway - he whispered the last part hoping you didn't hear it, but you did.

You pushed your way into your boyfriends room, shutting the door and sitting Reki on his bed, you on his lap. Reki was shocked at you sudden action, he didn't know what to say.

-I don't want you talking yourself down like that! You matter to me, Langa and so many other people and if anyone tries to say otherwise they just don't know the real you. You're amazing, smart, skilled and handsome. - you put both of your hands on his cheeks, pulling his face closer. - I love you and only you. Langa is cool and all but i prefer you - you finished, pulling his lips onto yours. He was surprised at first but soon kissed back, wrapping his arms around your waist. You pulled him closer trying to deepen the kiss. His lips felt perfect. They always did, wheater it was a make out session or just a little peck, everything done with him was special to you.

Suddenly, you heard a knock at his door and startled, you pulled away.

-y/n? How is Reki? - his mom asked from the other side of the door and you giggled.

-I think he's fine - you said looking back at a VERY flustered Reki who's face color was matching his hair.

-okay, do you want something to eat? - she asked.

-no mom, we're good - Reki yelled back, pulling you closer to him.

-okay, you kids be nice

-we will Mrs. Kyan - you answered her not taking your eyes off of your boyfriend. You then heard steps further and further away from the room until they disappeared.

-well, what are we gonna do now? - Reki asked his cheeks still tinted a bright pink.

- how about we cuddle? - you suggested, crawling off of him and onto his bed. He smiled at you and laid beside you, wrapping one of his arms around your waist and used the other to stroke your hair.

-I love you Reki - you whispered

-I love you too y/n - he whispered back

[dickgrcyscns]

Definitely Not Jealous

Definitely Not Jealous, Bucky Barnes. This was again written from a female perspective!

Summary: You were definitely not jealous of that girl dancing with Bucky, no, not at all. Well, maybe a little. 

Set During: Post-Civil War!AU

Word Count: 1290 words

Gif used not mine!

You loved being around all of your fellow Avengers, especially at Tony’s parties. Everyone was relaxed, mostly because of the booze, and care free. The conversations you had at those parties were ones you could never have sober. In fact, you were sure you had to be at least four drinks in when you told them about your first kiss. You were thirteen and it definitely was not good, what thirteen year old is great at kissing? And that lead into everyone telling each other about their awkward firsts, which made you feel a bit better about everything. Those parties were a way for you to grow close to everyone, to remind yourselves that there were good things in this world. Not just the horrors you guys saw far too often.  

The worst part about the parties? Watching the man you had been silently in love with for years shamelessly flirt with countless women. And it’s not like you could even be mad. He was completely single. He was doing absolutely nothing wrong. Yet it still made you jealous. Was it wrong of you to be jealous over a man that wasn’t even yours? Probably not. 

Taking a sip of the drink in your hands, you watched Bucky shamelessly flirt with the girl that had been hanging onto his every word the entire night. Your eyes rolled as his hand pulled across her waist, pulling her body closer to his. It was wrong to be watching them like that — you knew it was. He had every right to find a girl and do something like that. He wasn’t yours. And yet that same fury burned within you, coming from a place of hurt that you tried not to let come out. Seeing him with someone else, it killed you. There was no one other than yourself to blame for it either. It was your fault he didn’t know how you felt. You were the one who decided not to tell him.

“You know,” Sam took the seat next to you at the bar, a bottle of beer resting carelessly in his hands. “Glaring holes into the back of both of their heads will do nothing for you.”

“Shut up,” you muttered, rolling your eyes as you took another sip of your drink.

“Oh you’re jealous aren’t you?”

“Me? Jealous? No. I’m definitely not jealous.”

“Yes you are,” Sam raised a brow. “Do you wish you were that blonde girl that Bucky has pulled into his arms right now? Oh I bet you do. I can see those gears turning in that mutant brain of yours right now.”

“I hate you,” you deadpanned at him, shaking your head.

“I love you too,” Sam let out a laugh, head falling back as you glanced back over to the dance floor. Bucky’s hands had left the girls body, in fact, the two of them were no longer even near each other. Your eyes skimmed the crowd, trying to find where the blonde could have gone but you came up empty each time. “Cyborgs coming your way.”

“What?” You muttered, looking back towards Sam.

“Bucky, he’s a walking over here.”

“Why?”

“Does it look like I can read minds?”

“Obviously not. Where’s Wanda when you need her.”

“I think she went with Vision.”

“Well,” your eyebrows went up when you saw Bucky take the other seat next to you at the bar. “It’s an odd pairing though, don’t you think? Wanda and Vision?”

“Visions an android.”

“That’s my point.”

“To each their own,” Sam raised his hands in defense.

“Guess so,” your brows scrunched together as you took another sip of your drink. Smiling at Sam as he stood up, waving at Bucky and saying goodbye to you. Turning back to look at the bartender you gave him a sweet smile, “Hi! Can I get another one of these and then a whiskey on the rocks for him.”

The him in question was Bucky. He turned over to you with a smile, his way of saying thank you. Leaving the old glass on the bar, you took the new cup of liquid in your hands. Silence overtook the two of you as you both took swigs of drinks that had little to no effect to your bodies. Part of you was tempted to get up, to walk out and away from him. To not think about what you had just been focused on, but the other part of you screamed to stay there. Somehow hoping that maybe he had heard you and Sam while he was dancing. That that was the reason as to why he and the girl stopped dancing. You knew it was a long shot although, it wasn’t like you expected him to feel the same way as you. 

“Y/n?” Bucky looked over to you, the glass resting in his metal hand. “Are you okay? You’ve spent most of the night up here alone and not talking to anyone. That’s not how you normally act during these parties?”

“Have you been watching me Barnes?”

“Are you deflecting my question?”

“No,” you took a sip, “I’m just not answering it.”

“That’s mature.”

“Very,” you smiled at him. “Seriously though, have you been watching me?”

“Like you have? Doll, I’ve seen you staring at me all night.”

“So?”

“If you wanted to be that blonde who was dancing with me, you could have gotten up and joined me on the dance floor. No point in glaring daggers into the back of her skull,” Bucky took a swig of his drink, a smirk resting on his lips as your face dropped. So he definitely was watching you. 

“Would you have enjoyed that Barnes? Me, you, on the dance floor.”

“I think I would have enjoyed other things more,” his smirk and raised brow made you scoff. 

Eyes rolling you let out a laugh, “Sure.”

There it was again, the silence. It wasn’t anything bad. You felt comfortable sitting in it with him, the faint hum of the music from the dance floor reaching your ears. Biting your lip, you turned over to him. Was he just playing along as if everything was a joke? When you two got going with each other, you found it hard to decipher whether things were serious or not. You didn’t want to let the moment go into something, let it sail away on a new wave if he wasn't joking. “Hey, Buck.”

“Yeah?” He turned to you, blue hues staring directly into your e/c hues. 

“What you said about me coming down onto the dance floor with you,” your words faltered for a moment, “what would you really do? If I did that. No jokes this time.”

“Y/n, I respect you too much to let you dance like that with me.” This was it, you thought, the moment he would tell you he thought of you like a sister. “We would have to go out on a few dates before I would let you dance like that with me.”

“What?”

“You heard me.”

“Dates?”

“I like you,” Bucky smiled. “I like you a lot, Doll. I couldn’t imagine just letting you have one dance with me, I’d rather you have all of them.”

“Anything beats seeing another girl on your arm,” you muttered. “Nothing against them, I just didn’t like seeing anyone hanging around you.”

“Oh? Was someone letting jealousy get the best of them?”

“Yeah,” you smiled. “But I’m free on Friday and I really like the cheesy romantic first dates. I’ll let you plan this one Barnes, next ones on me.”

“You got it,” he let out a scoff, placing a kiss on your hand as you stood up. 

Who said jealousy gets you nowhere?

[aomine-ryo]

Akwbejdjsjsj um so excited about your requests being open! Okay could you please do Riko Adia x fem reader who’s more quiet, and how the team would react to her and them being together- also your writing is amazing 💕✨

I’ve never written for Aida before but this was so fun!! I really love her character ngl. I hope you’ll enjoy reading this one :) xx

Scenario: Aida Riko introducing her fem!s/o to the team

It had been a few months since you and Aida had started dating and you absolutely loved it. She was certainly more outgoing than you and you truly admired her for it; there was never an awkward silence between you two and it was so therapeutic. So it goes without saying that there was no one else to us rather spend your time with.

Aida was a busy person though. Between coaching the team and her vigorous studies, it was hard to catch a hold of her for yourself.

“You should drop by the gym after school. I could use the company,” Aida suggested as you waited in line at the canteen.

“Should I? I don’t want to be a bother,” you said hesitantly. You weren’t going to lie to yourself, the thought of being surrounded by a bunch of 6 foot tall high school boys also scared you ever so slightly.

“No, no, trust me. I’d love to have you there. If you don’t mind, you could help set up the drills and stuff too. Sound alright?”

You took a moment to think it over before nodding. “Yeah I guess it’ll be fine.”

“Really? Great!” she exclaimed as she placed a kiss on your cheek excitedly. “I can’t wait,” she beamed.

Once the school day came to an end, you walked with Aida to the gym, listening to her talk about her plans for a training camp. She opened up the doors to the gym filled with the boys who’d already begun practicing their shots on the court and you trailed in behind her.

“Ayy, Coach is here,” Kiyoshi announced in the middle of his stretching.

Everyone stopped what they were doing in that moment to turn their heads towards you two.

“Who’s that with you?” Hyuga questioned, looking over at you.

Aida nonchalantly swung her arm around your shoulders, startling you for a moment as you got dragged closer to her. “This, is my lovely partner, Y/N,” she introduced. Everyone’s eyes lit up in surprise. “Y/N’s going to be helping us out today, and if any of you bother them for even a moment I will kick you.”

They all shifted uncomfortably at the threat. It wasn’t like they were planning on bothering you, but they certainly weren’t going to do it now.

“Since when were you a lesb—“

Kagami was cut off by a nudge on his arm from Kuroko, who you hadn’t noticed until that very moment. “I didn’t know you were in a relationship, Coach. How long have you been together?” the blue haired boy asked politely as Kagami rubbed his arm with a frown on his face.

“We’re nearing in on four months now, right?” Aida looked at you to confirm.

You gave her a curt nod in response.

“Would you like to introduce yourself to the guys?” she asked, her voice so much softer with you that it had the boys’ minds blown.

“I think you already did that for me,” you muttered to her, giggling softly. Aida tried to stifle a laugh herself as she looked at you.

“Don’t you think Coach seems nicer when she’s with Y/N?” Izuki muttered to Hyuga, though it was still fairly audible to the rest of them.

“Woah I think this is the first time I’ve seen Coach this happy,” Koganei said rather loudly, snapping her out of her moment with you.

“Alright, that’s enough personal talk. Why aren’t y’all running your five laps around the court right now?” Aida narrowed her eyes at them as she placed her hands on her hips.

They all let out a groan. “Good going, Koganei,” Kagami said sarcastically as they all huddled together and began to run.

Meanwhile, Aida got her clipboard out and began to go over the schedule with you, informing you about what she wanted you to do— it wasn’t much to be honest, most of it involved you doing absolutely nothing for the next two hours.

As much as you would’ve liked to stay with your girlfriend chatting endlessly, she seemed to get into ‘coach mode’ very quickly. Wanting to be helpful, mainly out of sheer awkwardness, you did your best to help the boys out, giving them their water bottles and things whenever they needed it.

Towards the end of practice, they began to play some three-on-three matches with each other and you actually ended up awkwardly making conversation with whoever was on the bench as they rotated between subs. It was usually the boys who initiated the conversation with you, and you certainly didn’t mind that. However, you came to realise that you’d never heard Mitobe’s voice. He never spoke to you nor did you speak to him, but you strangely never felt awkward around him. He was just a very calming presence.

Meanwhile, whenever Hyuga, Izuki, Koganei or Kiyoshi were on the bench, it would be non-stop talking. Kiyoshi and Koganei would continuously ask you anything and everything about what it was like dating Aida. Most of the time you were very overwhelmed by their intensity that you had to take a few moments to process what they were trying to say, but they were very sweet with you that you didn’t feel too pressurised. Hyuga, too, was also very curious about what your relationship with Aida might be like, though he was much less in your face compared to the other two.

Izuki wanted to tell you all his jokes and you felt like you couldn’t refuse him, so you just listened. He had some pretty good ones in there that got you to laugh quite hard. Sometimes Aida would hear your snickering and she’d get distracted for a moment as she smiled at you gently, softening up for a moment as she watched you having fun before directing her attention back to the games.

Tsuchida, Furihata, Kawahara and Fukuda were generally nice people to be around. They’d sometimes try to talk to you about school or something general but they were very respectful and didn’t want to pry with questions about your relationship.

For the most part, Kuroko was the same. He was good at holding a conversation and he was polite about all his questions regarding your relationship. The softness of his voice made you feel more comfortable talking to him because it gave you the feeling that he was similar to you in that you were both generally quiet. By the end of it all you probably ended up bonding with him the most.

Meanwhile, Kagami was just a mess when it came to trying to talk to you. He was much too focused on practice to try and talk to you, but when he did feel like casually talking to you here and there, the conversation would lead nowhere. So for the most part, he opted to just sit in silence and listen to others talk to you as a way of getting to know you better.

Finally the practice came to an end. Once things were all cleaned up and put away, you prepared yourself to leave with Aida. “Good work today everyone,” she announced as she casually took your hand in hers. “Y/N and I are heading out. See you tomorrow!”

“Thanks Coach, see you tomorrow,” they all replied one by one.

“Aww look they’re holding hands!” Kiyoshi called out.

“Awww,” Izuki, Koganei and Hyuga cooed, gaining a glare from Aida as you two walked out of the gym, with you holding back an embarrassed laugh.

“Well, did you like it?” Aida asked you once you were alone.

“Yeah, it was pretty fun. They’re all quite... unique.”

Aida laughed, “Yeah that’s one way to put it. I’m glad you liked it. You should join in more.”

“I wouldn’t mind, I just don’t know how many more questions about our relationship I can answer at this point,” you joked.

“Eh, don’t worry about that. Just say the word and I’ll get them to zip it,” Aida said confidently.

She was really happy that you seemed to fit in well with the team though. For a moment she was worried that springing something up like this to a bunch of teenage boys would cause a lot of chaos and discomfort, but she was pleasantly surprised by how well they seemed to take it. If anything, they seemed excited and thrilled by the news.

For the rest of the night, Aida wore a big smile on her face. How could she not? She was walking hand in hand with the person she loved, after coaching a team of people who seemed to be very considerate of her feelings. She was the happiest person in the world that evening. And seeing her that happy only made your heart fill with joy.

[tinysidestrashcaptain]

It's Only Logical - Chapter 23

Chapter 23: Confrontations and Justice

First Chapter Previous Chapter

Pairings: Logicality/Prinxiety

Warnings: TW for Jason Bryce, Violence, and swearing!

His flowers, he thought. Plants that he’d raised from seeds, bulbs, babied along their whole lives, now lying ruined on the ground. Twisted, trampled and ripped. Innocent, and he took a silent moment to grieve before racing around the corner of the building.

He skidded to a stop as he saw Jason Bryce swing a baseball bat, shattering a window. “You son of a bitch!”

He saw the surprise on Jason’s face as he whirled around, followed by rage. “Heard you were busy today. Figured I’d be done and gone before you showed up.”

“Well, you figured wrong.”

“Doesn’t matter.” He swung the bat again, shattering another window in a hail of jagged glass. “You think you can get away from me? Humiliate me, sick the police on me?” Another crash, another window gone. “Someone needs to put you in your place.”

“You humiliated yourself, and if you don’t put that down and get the hell off my property, I’m going to do a lot more than sick the cops on you.” Logan raised his chin, clenching his fists at his sides.

“Is that so? Just you and me now, isn’t it?” Jason slapped the bat against his palm, glaring at him. “Do you have any idea what you cost me?”

“I have a general idea, and it’s going to be a lot more soon. Trespassing, destruction of property.”

Jason didn’t use the bat on him, but he could see the look in his eyes when he considered it before tossing it away. He lashed out, slapping Logan across the cheek with that familiar, brutal force that snapped his head to the side.

Logan felt like his heart was about to beat out of his chest as he faced Jason down, ignoring the throbbing of his face. “That the best you’ve got? Seems like your dick isn’t the only thing that’s soft anymore.”

“You mouthy little bitch!” Jason snarled, throwing himself at Logan. “That fucking nobody ruined you, that stupid clod with his little brat! You’re mine, you’ll always be mine!”

Logan caught Jason and used his own momentum to throw him against the wall, lashing out with his fists, which clearly caught Jason by surprise. “I don’t belong to anybody but myself, you arrogant piece of shit!”

Jason grunted as he took the lighter blows before pinning Logan’s arms down and tossing him to the ground. He was bigger, and stronger, and he used his own body to force Logan down in the dirt. “Maybe you just need to be reminded. Isn’t that right, pet?” He gripped the back of Logan’s neck in a familiar hold that had his stomach churning with fear and disgust.

“Get your goddamn hands off of me!” Logan snapped, kicking up and out until he connected hard enough to make Jason wheeze and loosen his grip.

He heard shouts and running feet, and Logan scrambled away to slowly stand on rubbery legs as Virgil tore around the corner two steps ahead of Patton.

“I’m fine. I’m okay.” Logan said calmly, although his head was spinning like a carousel. “This bastard might need medical attention, though.”

“Fuck him!” Virgil snarled, reaching out to Logan. His hands feathered over Logan’s face as he checked for injury, scowling. “He HIT you? Jesus fucking Christ, he hit you?!”

“I got him worse, believe me. And we’re going to press all sorts of charges.” Logan gave a wan smile and patted Virgil’s shoulder as he slowly took stock of himself. He scowled as he spotted the tear on the knee of his pants. “Goddammit! I got this suit especially for today. All sorts of charges.”

“The police are on their way. Barbara called on her cell on her way back to Roman’s to get us.” Patton’s voice shook, and Logan could tell from the look on his face it was a combination of fear and rage.

“Good. That’s good.” Logan sagged a bit, the adrenaline draining out of him. “Virgil, can you do me a favor? Bring this piece of shit around front. I don’t want to see him any longer or I might grab that bat and do something that’ll land me in jail.”

“Let me stand him up first.” Patton reached down and hauled Jason up on his feet with one hand. He turned and looked at Logan, all steely blue eyes. “Sorry.” And plowed his fist into Jason’s face, sending him sprawling to the ground again.

“I don’t mind a bit.” Logan could feel a wide grin spreading across his face as his knees wobbled dangerously. “Not one damn bit.”

Virgil hauled Jason up by the back of his collar and started marching him away, grinning meanly as he kicked the bastard’s feet out from under him as they walked. “Oops, you’ve got to watch where you’re going, Brycey.” He looked back at Logan with a grin. “You sure kicked ass today, Lo.”

“Thanks. And if he so much as twitches wrong, you go ahead and hit him as hard as you want. No complaints from me.” Logan gave a tremulous smile as he leaned against the wall of the shop building. “But I think all this ass kicking has left me out of sorts, so if you don’t mind, I’ll sit right here and catch my breath?”

“Here.” Patton took off his suit jacket and laid it on the ground. “No need to mess up your suit any more than it already is.”

“Thank you, sweetheart.” Logan sank gratefully down, leaning against Patton to take in the warmth and support he offered. He sat quietly until his heart rate slowed to normal, until the tangle of nerves, rage and disgust in his belly had eased a bit. Broken glass glittered in the sunlight, scattered on the ground around them. Glass could be replaced, he reminded himself. He’d mourn his flowers, but he’d save some of the wounded, and he’d grow more. An abundance of more.

“How’s your hand?” he asked Patton.

“Fine. Good.” Patton all but spat it out. “He’s got a chin like a marshmallow.”

“Big strong man.” Logan turned to wrap his arms around him, and didn’t mention Patton’s raw scraped knuckles. Patton gently helped him to his feet, and he leaned in close, refusing to let him go just yet.

“He must have been crazy to think he could get away with this,” Patton muttered, glaring in the direction Virgil had dragged Jason off to.

“A little, I guess. I imagine he planned to be done wrecking my place before the wedding was over. He’d figure we’d blame it on kids -- or the police would. And all I’d have was a mess on my hands. A man like that has no respect for others. He doesn’t believe anyone can best him.” Logan replied softly, resting his head on Patton’s shoulder.

“One did.” Patton shot him a look, clearly indicating he wasn’t referring to himself. Logan rubbed his arms, then clutched gratefully at the lapels of Patton's jacket as he picked it up and draped it over his shoulders, wrapping an arm around him. Logan burrowed into his warmth, unsure if his bones would ever be warm again.

“I can hardly believe this happened. If you hadn’t come when you had--” Logan cut himself off, refusing to entertain that line of thinking.

“We could hear you shouting.” Patton said quietly. “You cost Virgil and I several years off our lives. So I’m going to say this once.”

He turned, taking the lapels of his jacket into his hands and holding Logan steady so he was facing him. “And you are damn well going to hear it. I respect and admire your steely will, Logan, and appreciate your temper and capability. But the next time you so much as think about taking on some lunatic with a bat all on your own, I’m going to be doing some ass kicking. And it’s going to be your ass with the bullseye painted on it.”

Logan angled his head, studied his face, and saw he meant every word he’d said. Son of a gun. “You know, if I hadn’t already decided on this thing I’m about to ask you, that would have done it. How can I resist a man who lets me fight my own battles, then when the time is right steps in and cleans house? After the dust is clear, he gives me a good piece of his mind for being an idiot. Which I was, no question, no argument.”

“Glad to hear we’re agreed on that.” Patton replied dryly.

Logan took a step closer, and wrapped his arms around his neck, pulling his boyfriend closer. “I really love you.”

“I really love you back.”

“Then you won’t mind marrying me.” Logan felt his body jerk, just a little, just once, then settle in against his own, warm and true.

“I don’t see a problem with that. Are you sure?” Patton murmured, gently sliding his hands around Logan’s waist, holding him close.

“If you had asked me that a few months ago, I’d say no, but I’ve never been more sure of anything in my entire life. I’m a logical person, a person who thinks things through, and then over-thinks them, and then thinks about them some more, and some more still – and yet I don’t know that I can define love. Yet the cliche about love, of course, is that you’ll know it when you’re in it, right?” Logan asked, looking up at him. Patton lifted a hand to gently cup his face, smiling softly at him. “I used to think it happened explosively. That love was something astronomically powerful that not only swept you off your feet, but knocked you down on your ass and soaked through your skin and became an overarching force that was impossible to ignore. But, what if that’s not it? What if love is quiet and soft? What if love is gradual and delicate? What if love isn’t an explosion, but is instead this calm feeling you get when you wake up one golden Sunday morning and realize that there’s nowhere else you’d rather be than next to this person whose quirks make you laugh until you can’t breathe? Lately, I think I’ve stopped trying to define it and have started to believe that being in love is about more than just explosive emotion. And yet, it’s also about more than just finding someone to coexist with in the same space at the same time. Love is about finding someone who lights even the tiniest parts of your soul on fire. It’s about finding someone who makes you more you, who will even surprise you every now and then by knowing you better than you know yourself.” Logan leaned into Patton’s touch, feeling his heart leap even now.

“Am I that person to you, Lo?” Patton’s voice was thick with emotion, his blue eyes shimmering with tears.

“I believe I have found that person in you, and no one else will suffice.” Logan’s hands fisted in his boyfriend’s hair, his face intense. He didn’t talk about emotions, didn’t do this very often, so he wanted to take the opportunity to pour out all the words he’d probably never say again while he still could. “I want a safe place to rest my lips, and a soft place to land. I want someone who will keep me in his heart because that’s where I’ll be warm and safe. I want someone who will look at me when I’m at my messiest and kiss me on the forehead, someone who thinks I’m lovely in the morning, and at night, and during all the in between times. Someone who knows how much I like to be whispered to and who isn’t scared off when I’m crying, rare though that may be. Someone who can sense when I’m overwhelmed, who just knows when life is too much and who will, in those moments, stand close enough to me to block everything else out. Most importantly, I want someone who will stand beside me and face my battles with me, rather than standing in front of me. I want you, for the rest of our lives. I want Thomas and Parker and messy pizza nights and and everything that goes--”

Patton cut him off with a fierce kiss, swallowing whatever words Logan may have said. Logan made a soft sighing sound and melted into him, happily yielding in that moment. He leaned on him, knew without a doubt that he could lean on him--and trust him to step back when he needed to stand on his own.

Everything inside of Logan calmed, even when they broke the kiss and he snuggled against Patton’s chest, looking out at the destruction of what was his. He would fix it, save what could be saved and accept what couldn’t. He would live his life, plant his gardens, and walking hand-in-hand with the man he loved, he would watch both bloom. It wasn’t how he’d planned to do this, not by a long shot, but it was still the happiest moment of his life. “Do you think Thomas will be okay with it?”

“Are you kidding? He’d been pestering me for weeks now, asking when I was going to marry you and when we’d get to come live with you forever. Pretty sure he’d already decided you’re his stepfather.” Patton grinned, rolling his eyes fondly at the thought of his energetic son. “Now come on, slugger. I think we’ve got a police statement to give.”

“Mmm. But let’s hold off on announcing our engagement for a few days. I want Roman and Virgil to have their moment. Even if Jason put a dark cloud on it.”

“Are you serious? Virgil got to see him get his ass kicked. He’ll probably thank you for the wedding present.”

Logan threw his head back and laughed, the sound echoing in the sunlit air around them. No matter what else came next, he knew he had faced his demons and won. And he would never have to face it alone.

A/N: And that's it! We're done! Welcome to the end of It's Only Logical. I cannot believe I started this fic in 2017. Or that I finished it. I'll probably do some one shots or drabbles from this universe, little stories and bits of things that couldn't fit into the main fic, but the bulk of it is here. And all done at last! Apologies again to my former tag list. I lost it, and I feel terrible that for the end I couldn't tag you all. This chapter won't be any different on Ao3 or Wattpad. For those who weren't aware, Ao3 has the Explicit version of this fic, and Wattpad has this non-explicit version, possibly in an easier format. I've linked both, so if you feel like going back and re-reading all over again, you can. I love you all so, SO much and I appreciate all the support and patience you have given me. <3 Also? Roman stayed behind to keep the wedding guests calm, but he's going to be overjoyed when he hears what happened. And I like to think Virgil finally got to punch Jason Bryce right in his stupid, stupid face.

[mendespideys]

in need of saving | e.y.

pairing: eren yeager x reader 

warnings: mentions of fighting, swearing, blood, etc. it’s angsty

summary: eren’s emotions get the best of him and you’re his last hope. based on the line “you’ve been talking with your fists” from when you love someone by james tw.

a/n: this is my first ever drabble/fic/one-shot (whatever you wanna call it) of aot. my husband made me watch it, i became obsessed and now i am here putting my obsession into my writing lol. hope you guys like it. enjoy! 

also, to the people following me for marvel/sm content - i’m sorry lol

gif credit 

it was no secret that eren jaeger was slowly but surely losing it. maybe not losing it, but definitely losing his cool. and a lot more frequently than what everyone had deemed normal for him.

because it was also no secret that eren was known for losing it time and time again. everyone in the 104th cadet corps had seen the green-eyed boy pick a fight more than once - especially with jean. the two of them seemed to bubble with anger just at the sight of one another and no one really knew the real reason why. 

whether it was jean using what was definitely eren’s least favorite nickname he had ever gotten (suicidal maniac) or eren making a comment about the redhead being a coward - the two of them could barely get along on a good day. 

but, lately, everyone seemed to be getting on eren’s bad side. horse-face was no longer the only insult coming from him and it certainly was not the most cruel one that had slipped past his lips either. eren’s anger - or whatever it was - was no longer only focused jean. he seemed to be taking his feelings out on everyone. everyone except you. 

even the captain and the commander had been getting their fair share of snarky comments and attitudes from the titan shifter. while they were undoubtedly unable to hold their ground, eren was definitely crossing lines he shouldn’t have. 

and, so, you were forced into your current situation. 

“tch,” captain levi pushed himself off the table he had been leaning on. “the brat is out of control. while i have no problem beating the living shit out of him, i doubt more fighting is what he needs.”

hange nodded. “it seems he’s either too tired to heal himself or he chooses not to. his injuries are taking longer and longer to disappear. we have to do something before it’s too late.” 

before it’s too late. 

you shuddered. the thought of something happening to eren sent a shiver down your spine. worrying about him was like second nature to you and the only one who appeared to understand you was mikasa. 

“with all due respect, commander,” armin spoke up, his bright blue eyes studying the room before continuing. “we have all tried. he doesn’t want to listen to any of us. it’s pointless.”

a sigh fell from his lips, as a subconscious hand rubbed his bandaged shoulder. poor armin. even the innocent, genius best friend had been unlucky enough to experience eren’s wrath. 

“everyone but y/n.”

your eyes darted toward the mention of your name and you met captain levi’s steady gaze. you cowered under his intense stare, feeling other eyes on you as well. you cleared your throat, feeling a weird sense of pressure in the pit of your stomach. 

“i’ve tried, too,” you swallowed thickly, refusing to remember all the times you had tried to talk him. “i- he doesn’t want to listen.” 

“you haven’t really tried,” levi remarked. “the brat’s picking fights left and right. every little thing seems to set him off and you are the only one who can get him to stop. y/n, we all see the way he looks at you. eren might be humanity’s last hope, but right now, you’re his.” 

your heart was thumping in your chest. you had noticed the difference in eren’s actions toward you as well. the touches that lingered a little bit longer than normal, the longing stares he thought you never noticed, the way his anger practically melted away when his name left your lips... 

but to hear someone else confirm it aloud felt weird. foreign. because you had pushed those observations to the back of your mind, desperate not to over-analyze any of them. the two of you were just friends. 

a knock on the door startled you out of your messy web of thoughts. the door opened before either one of the superiors could give permission to do so, revealing a timid yet determined sasha. she addressed the whole room, but her brown eyes were on you. 

“um, sir, sorry to interrupt, but eren and jean are back at it again and i’m afraid neither one of them is stopping, sir.” 

no one seemed to notice the half-eaten potato clutched in her hand - or if they did, they chose not to mention it - as she saluted the captain and commander. you were already practically out of your seat before she could finish and the look from sasha that went unnoticed by everyone else certainly did not go unnoticed by you. 

you followed hot on her heels, your gaze fixated on her bobbing ponytail as she scurried through the hallways but your mind totally elsewhere. there was an uneasy feeling bubbling deep inside you and no matter what you told yourself, you couldn’t shake it. 

while eren did lack the ability to take control of his emotions and strategically plan out his next moves, his brute strength and impeccable hand-to-hand combat techniques made up for it. therefore, you were more worried about jean than eren, to say the least. 

so, to say you were surprised when you entered the field and laid eyes on the two was an understatement. the sight you had imagined and prepared yourself for was nowhere to be seen. instead, the one eren was injuring was himself. by the look of it, there definitely had been a fight between him and jean, but the latter was merely watching connie’s attempts at stopping the brunette. 

you came to a halt immediately, unsure of how to process the scene playing out in front of you. a trembling hand mutes a sob, which is now nothing more than a pained whimper as your eyes traveled up and down eren’s body, mentally assessing his injuries. 

his nose was definitely bleeding. this wasn’t an unusual sight as it tended to happened a lot during his early experiment stages with hange. but you weren’t prepared for the bruising that was already forming and there was no doubt in your mind that his nose was broken. 

his forehead was stained red as well, strands of his growing hair sticking to the sides of his face. it was impossible for you to appraise the extent of the damage as you were unable to determine the origin of the crimson liquid. 

everything seemed to happen in slow motion and too fast all at once. at the sight of the your group, connie’s attempts were replaced by captain levi’s with mikasa not far behind. hange made a beeline for jean, who was muttering frustrated nothings while rubbing his jaw. 

so eren had gotten a few hits in. 

a gentle nudge brought you back, once again, from the dark chaos within your mind. you met armin’s blue orbs, attempting to ignore the pure worry swimming within them. his eyebrows arched as a silent plea and you followed his gaze to where eren was wildly trashing against the captain. 

in any other situation, you would have laughed at the ridiculousness of it all. the captain’s height was a frequent talking point among your group and there was no denying how small he looked compared to eren’s towering frame. in any other situation, you also would not have bothered hiding how impressed you were with the captain’s ability to overpower the younger boy. 

“y/n-” levi warned, voice strained, as the bloodied boy continued to attempt resisting him. 

with a nod (to convince yourself or as a response to levi, you were unsure), your unsteady legs carried you toward the two of them. eren’s eyes were wild with determination, his nostrils flaring with anger. but you quickly realized when walking closer that there were a dozen other emotions pooling within his emerald orbs. 

“eren,” his name fell from your mouth with ease. skillfully, you maneuvered your hand around his flailing limbs, placing your palm on his swollen cheek. “eren, it’s okay. hey - stop, it’s okay, i’m here.” 

it was as if a boulder had fallen off his shoulders. his actions halted immediately and his entire body relaxed at the sound of your voice. you wouldn’t have believed the effect you had on him if you hadn’t just witnessed it. levi reluctantly let go of eren, still on stand-by in case the boy would try anything.

“y/n,” your name fell from his lips just as easily, his voice nothing more than a whisper. 

and just like that, he crumbled underneath your touch. you fell to the ground with him, ignoring the pain as your knees came in contact with the hardened dirt beneath you. bringing your other hand up as well, you trapped his face, forcing him to meet your gaze. 

he didn’t try to look anywhere else. he couldn’t. the pained look he was giving you was almost too much and you resisted the urge to look away. his bottom lip was trembling, the slit in it leaking blood with every movement. you found yourself having to withstand the yearning to kiss the pain away. 

“eren, what’s going on with you?” you tried to maintain a steady voice but there was no doubt that everybody could pick up on the worry behind every word. “this is- you can’t keep doing this. you have done nothing but talk with your fists and you need to stop. you can’t go picking fights with everybody over the smallest things.”

eren didn’t respond. the mixture of dirt and blood - both dried and fresh - and the threat of nightfall made it hard to see, but the violent jerks of his body made it obvious: he was crying. your own tears fell as well as sob after sob raked through his body. 

“i can’t help you if you don’t tell me what’s wrong,” you swallowed down your own cries, your mind focused on nothing but helping the heartbroken boy in your arms. “eren, i need you to talk to me. please?”

“w-why? you shouldn’t- i’m a monster. a stupid good-for-nothing bastard. you- why do you want to help me?”

anger coursed through your veins. you wanted to beat the living shit out of whoever had made him feel this way about himself. they had absolutely no right. eren’s cries echoed in the twilight. you didn’t check if your comrades were still an audience. frankly, you didn’t care. 

“you want to know why? because you’re human. because you have the abilities you have. because i truly believe you’re one of humanity’s last hopes. because you deserve to have someone believe in you the way you believe in saving all of us,” you inhaled deeply, overcome with emotion. “because i love you.” 

eren’s sobs stopped just like that; as if they had an off button that you just pushed. the momentary silence - which felt way longer than you would ever admit - was broken by a sound somewhere between a shaky sigh and a surprised gasp coming from eren. 

you couldn’t bring yourself to regret your confession. you didn’t feel an ounce of remorse and definitely not any embarrassment. maybe it was due to eren also showing vulnerability or maybe it was because you had practiced said confession more than once. 

you didn’t care. he knew. he knew now and that was all that mattered. 

his eyes searched your face. you weren’t sure for what, but you assumed for a sign of wether or not you were speaking the truth. your features held nothing but earnest as you returned his analyzing stare and it seemed to satisfy his silent investigation. 

“i feel- it’s too much. too much pressure. i don’t know what i’m doing anymore. i’m not- there has to be someone else. i-i can’t do it... so many people. they’re all dead because of me. i’m not strong enough to-” 

the last drops of self-control you had were eliminated by his proclamation. while it might have been difficult to comprehend for some, you had understood every word and with each broken sentence, your heart ached more and more. 

eren’s disjointed admissions were halted by your lips on his. you didn’t know where your newfound confidence had come from but you were grateful for its presence. his lips molded against yours almost instantly - so effortlessly. 

you ignored the taste of iron just as eren ignored the stinging from the cut on his lip. while the kiss was nowhere near being sexual, it was definitely more than just a peck. your lips moved together in pain and understand and love and relief. 

unwillingly, you pulled away. suddenly aware that you more than likely still had an audience, the fresh evening air felt good against your flushed cheeks. the two of you remained silent, attempting to revert your breathing patterns back to normal. 

eren rested his forehead against yours. you were sure sasha could practically hear the way your heart was stammering in your chest. and if not, eren definitely could. with each thump, your chest tightened and you were sure that if human bodies had not been designed with rib cages, your heart would have been long gone. 

your thumb caressed his cheek, his fresh tears smearing with the dried crimson in the process. a gust of wind took ahold of the few pieces of hair framing your face. eren gingerly grabbed the loose strands, tucking them behind your ear. he had done so countless times before, but something just felt different this time around. 

“i love you, too,” he whispered, the previous insecurities long gone from his voice. he had never spoken truer words. 

you smiled. “let’s get you cleaned up, yeah? and i think you might owe someone an apology.” 

eren’s limbs ached and although he didn’t want to admit to that, his body betrayed him. he had just barely stood back up when his trembling legs buckled. he prepared to meet the cold ground and the pain that would ensue, but a pair of hands caught him before it happened. 

you were just as surprised as eren appeared to be as levi attempted to steady him. it seemed the captain hadn’t ventured far. hyper aware that he probably had heard every word shared between you and eren, you didn’t dare meet his eyes. 

you sprung into action immediately, moving to eren’s other side. he winced as you navigated his arm around your shoulders, causing you to sputter out apologies while doing so. captain levi’s amusement didn’t go unnoticed by you or eren, but neither of you decided to comment on it. 

with you and captain levi both being significantly shorter than eren, supporting his weight was easier said than done. after some trial and error, though, the three of you were able to move almost seamlessly. 

eren’s strength was wavering by the second, you could tell, but he had enough left to come to a halt when you neared his most recent victim. you met jean’s eyes, hoping he could sense how apologetic you were. he confirmed with a nod then turned his attention to the boy who seemed to be getting heavier and heavier in your arms. 

“i’m sorry, jean, i-i honestly don’t even know... i’m sorry.”

“what? no ‘horse-face’?” the redhead chuckled, almost sadly. you realized that they had already cleaned him up. “don’t worry about it, eren. you did more damage to yourself than me anyway.” 

jean placed a hand on eren’s arm that was thrown over your shoulder. the interaction was brief but seemed to mean a lot to the both of them. then, they nodded and jean walked back toward the remainder of the group. sasha and connie were both saying words to him that you couldn't hear. 

you could feel the distressed stares that armin and mikasa were both sending in your direction. you gave them a nod, promising that their childhood friend was okay. he would be, at least. you had already made it your mission to ensure it. 

as you and captain levi hauled eren toward his dorm, the severity of the situation began feeling heavy on your shoulders. eren had definitely broken more than a few rules and you were sure captain levi would make sure he was punished for his insubordination. 

you weren’t entirely sure you would be off the hook either. sure, you hadn’t broken rules or gone against direct orders, but you hadn’t exactly abided either. captain levi could easily find a reason for why you should receive punishment as well and no one would even question it. 

captain levi’s steel eyes followed your every move as you opened the door to eren’s room, you could feel it. it didn’t feel like his typical burning glare but you couldn’t quite place your finger on the emotion behind the action either. 

as if sensing your thoughts that were now moving a hundred miles a minute, a groan came from eren. you watched them both quietly as captain levi managed to plop eren down on the chair you had placed next to the bath. another groan escaped the green-eyed boy and you could tell he was exhausted and in pain.

“captain, i’m-”

“tch. save it, brat. we have all been there and if they haven’t, they will. i’m surprised it took you this long. you’re a lot stronger than you give yourself credit for, kid,” levi interrupted, turning his attention toward you. “y/n, i trust you’ll take good care of humanity’s last hope. i’ll see the both of you at breakfast tomorrow morning.”

“i- yes, sir.” 

captain levi left without another word, leaving you and eren alone for the first time all day. you suddenly felt hesitant, unsure of what to do next. eren’s grunts of frustration filled the silent room as he began - well, tried to anyway - removing his tunic. 

you swatted his hands away gently, removing the article of clothing with ease. you had seen eren’s bare body before but you were still just as awestruck. this time, though, his skin was littered with scrapes, cuts and bruises of almost every color imaginable. you swallowed the urge to yell at him. 

the silence continued as you washed his body ever-so-gently. once you had been able to get him into the tub, that is. more than once, you had to momentarily stop your actions to check if eren had either fallen asleep or passed out. 

every time, his eyelids would flutter open instinctively, as if missing the warmth of your touch the second it disappeared. his green eyes would widen until they landed on you and he would relax, his lids falling shut once again. 

the silence wasn’t uncomfortable; it was filled with unspoken words of gratitude and affection. the two of you enjoyed it to the fullest - maybe even a little too much. reluctantly, you stopped running your fingers through his brown locks that never seemed to stop growing. 

eren didn’t protest when you told him it was time to get out despite how much he wanted to. he also didn’t protest and tried his best to help when you began putting a change of clothes on him. he didn’t protest when you whispered it was time for bed, either. 

he did protest when you attempted to take your leave, however. 

“stay,” it was a soft plea that pulled on your heartstrings. “please?”

and, so, you climbed into bed with him without hesitation. he nuzzled into the crook of your neck so quickly that it seemed like second-nature to him and was asleep within minutes, his soft snores the only sound within range. 

well, you had definitely broken rules now. but you decided that eren sleeping next to you was more than worth whatever form of discipline captain levi could ever devise. you would handle whatever it was with pride if it meant you could stay like this forever. 

/ / / / / 

ok, um, this didn’t exactly go where i had envisioned it to but i’m not really mad? idk. i had to put some levi x eren in there bc i live for their mentor/mentee relationship. if you made it this far, please send me some asks and let me know what you thought 🥺

[sp00kyjellybeans]

Constant Pining [Mickey Altieri x reader]

A/N: I wanted to write something cute tee hee. Lmk if you guys want a part two to this because this was supa fun to write and I might continue it. Gender neutral reader by the way!

Word Count: 2,089

Warnings: College drinking

---

Mickey entered the lecture hall with a bounce in his step. It was his third class of the day and by far his favorite. Well, second favorite. A good runner up alongside his film class. As soon as he passed through the doorway with his folder in hand, his eyes fell to where you sat in the middle of the lecture hall. 

You were writing in your planner, five minutes early to the class as always. Mickey approached and realized you were clueless about your surroundings. Students would shove past to find a seat and you didn’t even give them hum in response.

Mickey grinned at this. He crept up behind your hunched figure and grabbed both of your shoulders, shaking them violently. 

“RAHH!!” He growled. Instead of a scream, Mickey earned a hard glare. You furrowed your eyebrows at the boy, not saying a word. “Really?” He said, exasperated. 

“You messed up my planner. I was writing something.” 

“Seriously. Not even a squeal?” Mickey dropped into the seat next to you. 

You cracked a smile, “I saw you coming. I thought about acting surprised but... I like making you work for it.”

“I’ll scare you one day, I promise you that.”

“Oh, I bet you will...” You chuckled, turning back to your planner. 

Mickey’s smile grew wide, watching your precise yet comfortable mannerisms. His glance lingered until he felt a small hand tap on his shoulder. 

“Mickey... you’re in my seat,” The film student turned to see Halley with a hand on her hip. His face drew back into a look of confusion.

“What? This isn’t third grade, we don’t have assigned seats.” 

“Maybe not but I like sitting next to (Y/n). They take good notes.”

You turned your head to watch your friends bicker. It was entertaining.

“Then I will use that to my advantage,” Mickey said and turned back to face the front. 

Halley huffed in frustration. Once she realized that Mickey wasn’t going to move, she rolled her eyes and grabbed Mickey’s shirt collar. The fabric squeezed his throat, making him jump up in surprise. Halley took her place quickly before he could do anything else.

Mickey placed his hand around his throat, glaring at the girl in front of him. “Jesus Christ son of Mary... You’re brutal...”

“Don’t mess with me, Mouse,” Halley said, not giving him a second look.

The sound of bells rang from campus meaning class was to begin. Any seats near you were taken, so Mickey was forced toward the back of the hall. He dropped his head in defeat once the professor entered.

“Did you really have to do that?” You whispered. “I mean- ...it was funny don’t get me wrong but he wanted to sit next to me.”

“And I want to pass this class,” Halley said. You pursed your lips. “Besides, this adds for a nice build-up.”

“Build-up?”

“For when he finally gets the guts to ask you out. This makes him want you more.”

“He does not want me!” You gasped. 

“Yes he does,” She grinned. “He’s staring at you right now.”

“You don’t know that.”

“Yes, I do. If I’m right, you have to come to the Delta Theta party tonight.”

You glared at Halley, “That’s Mickey’s frat house. No way. You know they get rowdy.”

“Just look!” 

You rolled your eyes, complying, and took a tiny peek at the back of the lecture hall. There sat Mickey, his head rested on his hand and looking right at you. 

The boy was in a dazed state, his eyes falling onto the back of your head in the minutes prior and he had forgotten to pull them away. Your hair was gorgeous. It fit your head perfectly. You had a really nice neck. 

The wave of your hand snapped him out of his trance.

Shit!

Mickey sat upright in his seat. He totally just got caught. Shit! Shit! Shit! His sudden movement scared the living daylights out of the students next to him. Realizing he caused a scene, he dropped his shoulders in embarrassment. Just relax, he thought. He was staring at you like a creep. No problem.

He waved back. There, that was good. You took it well. Now you’re looking away. All is well.

If he could, Mickey would have slapped himself silly on the spot. This wasn’t the first time he was caught drooling over you. All of his friends and frat bros wouldn’t let him drop it. Not since the first day of school. They could tell that his crush on you grew bigger as time went on. They would remind him of that.

And hell, he wasn’t the only one who thought you were a sight for sore eyes. He could specifically recall Randy Meeks scheming up a plan to ask you out, but the little weasel never got the courage. Other people have thought and tried but you always turned them down.

Mickey never bothered asking you out on a date, despite his strong feelings. He considered himself smooth and confident up until the idea popped in his head. What if you turned him down?

Now, a year had passed and as he feared... he was in the friend zone. He couldn’t be happier about how close you two were... but he wanted more. 

Mickey rubbed his face in exasperation. He needed a chance, he thought. Staring at you, waiting for results, won’t get him anywhere.

Since Halley’s assumption was correct, you were coming to the party. You mentally cursed her eyes that sat in the back of her head. The sound of the party blared through the wooden door in front of you. It was fine. Just a party. You don’t go to parties, but it’s fine.

You creaked open the door since it was left slightly ajar, and looked over the sea of dancing college students. This was unlike anything you’ve been to in months. At best, the most action you’ve seen was the tame cocktail mixers that sorority’s hosted.

Pushing through the crowd you made it to the backyard of the frat house. There was a pool and a few tables set up for drinks, drinks, and more drinks. Some people were even swimming. 

You scanned the crowd in hopes of finding one of your friends. Halley was nowhere to be seen, great. You let out a sigh, turned back to the sliding glass door where you had entered but stopped dead in your tracks.

Mickey stepped through the glass pane, also looking around. His hair was messy but cute and he was wearing a t-shirt that was a little tight. It squeezed the biceps you didn’t know he had. 

That was a lie. You knew very well that he had muscles.

One of his friends approached for some awkward greeting and he grinned. He smiled his toothy smile that made you melt. He was so casual yet sexy.

Goddamn you, Mickey. 

Oh no! He was coming this way! You placed a hand on your head and looked around viciously. You desperately needed to act casual. Nearby sat a table of shots. You snatched it and downed the liquid. It burned your throat but it managed to calm your nerves. 

“(Y/n)!” Mickey’s voice called out. “I didn’t realize you were coming tonight.”

“Neither did I,” You clapped your hands together. “Halley convinced me.”

“Awesome...” He smiled. Damn that smile. “You wanna dance?”

This is where you felt every pulse, every organ in your body freeze in motion. Dance? Did he just invite you to dance?

“Uh-”

“If you don’t want to-”

“No! I mean, yes... I do!” You smiled sheepishly. “Let’s dance...”

Mickey nodded in satisfaction and gripped onto your hand to drag you back into the frat house. On the way, you snatched another shot off of a table for some liquid courage, feeling the tension release from your muscles. A warm feeling spread across your chest.

On the outside, he was keeping it cool, smooth, as he always was. But the instant the word “dance” tumbled out of Mickey’s mouth, his heart was pounding a mile a minute. A part of him wished he was not sober right now. It would make this a million times easier. But he feared he wouldn’t enjoy it as much if he weren’t. 

The lights in the living room had dimmed since you first arrived. The music had definitely become louder but it was darker, the only light drawn from a lamp and a rainbow disco ball on the floor. You and Mickey were able to see each other’s faces clearly, only since the two of you were squished in the crowd of dancing college students. 

The colors on your face flashed from red to green to blue in the room, igniting a flame inside of Mickey. Your eyes shined a different way with each color. The rainbow surge that danced on your skin was breathtaking. You were breathtaking, he thought. 

“I can’t really dance that well,” You said, now realizing the mistake you made. 

“What?” Mickey yelled. The music was too loud.

“I’m terrible at dancing!” You matched. Mickey laughed, dropping his head next to your ear, his fingers touching your elbows to bring you closer to him.

“Let me show you,” He said normally. If the room wasn’t so loud, you wouldn’t have given this a second thought. But hearing his deep voice, his breath hitting your ear, break the deafening sound of music made you shudder. You nodded, looking back at him with those big eyes. 

Mickey’s hands traveled from your arms down to your hips. He pulled on the belt loops of your jeans to bring you closer to his body, “Is this okay?” You bit your lip and nodded once more. “I’m going to guide your hips...”

His large hands rested on a respective hip bone and rocked them side-to-side to the beat of the music. The song was a medium pace, a consistent beat to follow. Perfect for this moment. You looked down to see his waist matching the speed of yours, but never made contact.

“See... Easy.” Mickey said. 

He loved touching you. His hands were melted to your lower body. Everything about this felt just right. The spinning lights, the music, the lack of space between the two of you. Everything was loud and nonstop but at this moment all senses excluding sight and touch were lost. Mickey expected you to reject him before he got this far. But you didn’t. Could that mean something? Were you okay with him touching you like this?

The film student inclined his head instinctively, your own was tilted upwards for perfect leeway. Your smell was potent. Intoxicating even. It lured him in. Mickey found his nose nearly pressed against the tip of yours. 

“Holy shit, (Y/n)! At a FRAT party?” Randy Meeks slurred, landing his hand on your shoulder. “This is like seeing Bigfoot..... or some shit-”

You guys jumped away from each other, snapping out of whatever was about to happen. Mickey’s moment of ecstasy was shattered. By Randy fucking Meeks. A drunk Randy Meeks.

“I know,” You chuckled nervously. “What a surprise.”

“I totally-” Randy hiccuped between words- “Meant to ask you this sooner.... but we need to go see the next Alien movie. It’s the third out of the franchise.... and I know you LOVE sci-fi.”

Little did Mickey know, you felt the same side effects of that moment. Although you loved Randy’s geekiness, this just wasn’t the time. You wanted to shoo him away but here came another obstacle.

“(Y/n)! There you are...” Halley squealed, drink in hand, “I thought you’d never show.”

“Here I am...” You said in a sarcastic sing-song voice. Mickey was the only one who noticed your tone.

“Come here, I need to tell you something!” Halley said and yanked your arm. “Sorry Mr. Pink, but I’m taking them with me. See ya...”

“Just... glad you know the reference,” Mickey called after you two, which neither heard. He stuck his hands in his front pockets and glared at Randy. “Really?”

“What?”

“I was totally-” Mickey snapped but stopped himself from yelling. He pressed his hands against his face. “Never mind.”

Mickey ditched the geek, threading a hand through his hair. He stood in the backyard frustrated. He wanted more than anything to dunk his head in the glowing pool in front of him. But instead, he snagged a shot of tequila off of the table, letting the drink burn his throat.

So close. He was so close. 

[unmaskedagain]

Remember You Young

I answered this ask because I thought it was adorable. I loved the show they wanted me to do, and I want to see who could guess it before it became obvious. Its a one-shot . 

She was being followed. At first it had been daunting when she realized it, and Marinette had done everything she could to shake them off her trail. Then she realized she was being stalked by kids. Literally kids. None older than ten or eleven at best.

           They had been terrible at hiding, rarely ever whispered, argued constantly, had the most outrageous costumes but somehow managed to keep up with Marinette’s every move... most of the time. They ran around with toy guns and pretend walky talkies.

           It either said the best thing about the kids’ skills, or the worst thing about Marinette’s.

           There was a husky boy who ran around in a blue shirt and goggles. He never took off the old pilot’s hat he wore. He was also… always eating cheese. Or candy. He liked puns that caused his friends to groan constantly.

           There was an Asian little girl who wore an adorable green sweater that was too big for her and the arms of the sweater went well past her hands. She was girly and seemed to be the sweetest of the bunch. Honestly, she was the happiest girl Marinette had ever seen in her entire life. The only time the kid had gotten upset was when she had cried when couldn’t find the stuffed animal she wanted in any of the stores. Marinette had been heartbroken for her. The bluenette didn’t know what a “Rainbow Monkey” was or why it had to be French but she was going to get it for the girl if it was the last thing she did it.

           A bald British boy seemed to be the leader as everyone took direction from him. Marinette had never seen his eyes due to the black glasses he wore. The kid seemed to believe himself to be some sort of superspy. He had a fierce take-charge attitude and barked orders like a pro and preferred to a treehouse their hung out at as headquarters. He didn’t smile often.

           A pretty black girl seemed to be the one with the most sense of the much, and the most style. She wore her hair in a long braid, a blue shirt-dress and an old red cap. The girl had a natural charisma and coolness to her that made Marinette feel awkward in comparison. She seemed to second-in-command .

           The smallest of the bunch was a blond boy with an unfortunate bowl cut and a bright orange hoody. He was loud, brash, and was the “tough guy” of the bunch. He picked a fight with nearly everyone. A fierce little guy that called Marinette a “Ruddy Teenager.”

           However all the kids seemed to dislike adults and teens to some degree. They cast suspicious glances at everyone thirteen and older no matter how nice they were. None of them ever called each other by their names, always opting to follow the rules of whatever game they were playing and called each other by numbers. And always mispronounced the word: number.

           Numbuh 1. Numbuh 2. Numbuh 3. Numbuh 4. Numbuh 5. Marinette hadn’t gotten close enough to figure out who was who but she did suspect the numbers were ranking order or anything. They were probably just random.

           After over two weeks of being stalked, Marinette still hadn’t been able to figure out what they wanted from her. Only that they didn’t know she was Ladybug. It was frustrating.

           She finally got answers one day while walking home from school when she got attacked by an evil cat lady who weaponized her pets, a deranged dentist who put braces on everyone, and a man dressed like toilet. They attempted to kidnap Marinette and raise all out heck on everyone around them. They weren’t Akumas. They were just crazy people.

           The kids fought them back. They saved the day. They saved Marinette. The villains ran with their tails between their legs.

           …Suddenly everything the kids had been doing didn’t seem like a game anymore.

           …Then the kids kidnapped Marinette. The kids jumped her, hogtied her, gagged her, and carried her back to their tree house… which Marinette now realized was way more advanced than any tree house should be. EVER.

           As soon as they got to there, and Marinette was uncharitably tossed on to the couch, the kids panicked.

“We shouldn’tve done this!” Goggles boy chimed. “We weren’t supposed to make contact. Moonbase will decommission us for sure.”

“And let the adults have her, Numbah 2,” The bald boy said. “I think not! We can never let the adults win. Its against everything the Kids Next Door stand for.”

The black girl nodded, “Numbah One’s right, we can’t let Father have what’s in her brain,” She said. “It could destroy the KND!”

“But that’s not possible, Numbah five, we all know that!” The girl in green said. “She got decommissioned. Her brain got all wishy-washy. Right, Numbah Four?”

           The blond boy huffed, “Yeah! Numbah Three’s got a point. And what’s so important about some ruddy teenager anyway? Tell you what! We should drop her artic ocean and never look back.”

           Numbah five groaned, “Are you stupid, boy? They sent Numbuh 274, I mean Chad, after her. And CREE! They wouldn’t have done that if she wasn’t important. The supreme leader wouldn’tve sent us to stop them from getting her! Ya moron.”

           Marinette frowned at that. Chad, the handsome foreign exchange student that came to Marinette’s class a few weeks ago. All the girls in school thought he was so dreamy. Even Marinette, even though she had been perplexed at the sad, almost wistful looks he would shoot her when he thought he wasn’t looking. And at the stories he told about his childhood, and woud look at Marinette like he was waiting for her to jump in and finish them. Almost like he knew her. Or expected her to suddenly remember him.

           The same with Cree, a foreign exchange student in a grade above Marinette’s, but to a lesser extent than Chad. The older girl liked to make sly remarks about what being a teen meant where she came from. She cracked what seemed to be inside jokes at Marinette and looked crestfallen when it was clear the bluenette didn’t understand what she meant. Then Cree would grumble about stupid kids ruining everything.

“But WHHHHYYY?” Numbah Four whined. “We got sent a like bajillion miles away to         a city where they force kids to eat bugs and smelly cheese all to protect a teenager. A TEENAGER! And they don’t even tell us why.”

           Numbah Two frowned, “It is kind of strange. I mean we hate teenagers! They’re the worse. Why save this one?” He looked at Marinette like she was specimen in a jar.

“Because team,” Numbah One announced loudly, pausing for, what Marinette knew was, dramatic effect.  “She is Numbah Seventy-Two.”

           Gasps rang through the room. The kids reared back as if struck. Their eyes went wide and they started at Marinette in awe.

“…Or at least she used to be,” Numbah One added.

“Woah,” Numbah Four said, looking at Marinette with newfound respect.

           Numbah Two sqeauled, “This is the best day ever. You have to sign my Yipper card.” He told Marinette. “It’s an ultra-rare collectable. Only three still exists. The rest were destroyed.”

“But, but, but how?” Numbah Five asked, removing her hat. “All records of Numbah Seventy-Two was struck from the history of the KND. Only the supreme leader and her team ever knew what happened to her.”

“They pinky-swore not to tell anyone what happened!” Numbah Three added. “No one would ever break a pinky promise.”

“That’s true,” Numbah five nodded. “No kid ever would. Expecially not her team. She saved us. She saved the KND. She saved the world and made it better for kids everywhere.”

           Numbah One nodded. “Exactly. No kid would ever break the solemn oath. But do you remember just who was one her team?”

           Looks of realization appeared on the kids’ faces, and then anger.

“Numbah Two Hundred and Seventy-Four,” Numbah Five said bitterly. “He was Number Seventy-Two’s second in command for years. And He betrayed her. Why am I not surprised?”

“But why?” Numbah Two asked. “I mean if she was still Numbah Seventy-Two I’d understand. She stopped Principle Boutface from ending summer vacation forever. She stopped Father from making Halloween adults only forever and ever. Name a bad guy, and I can guarantee she kicked their butts! And most importantly she even beat…” Numbah Two paused, clearly afraid. “well you know. She’s done loads of cool things. But She can’t remember anything. So why? Why come get her now?”

“She beat who?” Numbah Four asked. “I don’t know. Who’d she else did she beat? Why were they so important?”

           Numbah One and Five looked away. Both remembered but neither wanted to say anything.

“We were still just little babies when it happened,” Numbah Three answered seriously. “Still finishing training. We never really knew what was going on. Too little for anyone to tell us. We just knew it was bad. Kids were always scared, always hurting…”

“It was a dark time,” Numbah One agreed. “Before Father took over, there was another in charge of the evil adults in the world. But he worse than Father could’ve ever dreamed of being. Kids were scared to go to sleep. They were afraid of their closets and what was under their beds. OF every shadow. No kid would be caught out after dark. They were too scared. Nowhere was safe. No one was safe. Not from him. Not from…”

“The Boogieguy,” Numbah Five finished. “The most powerful leader the adults ever had. The strongest, most evil villain you can imagine. But Numbah Seventy-Two refused to back down. She was the only who could stand up to him. The only one to ever beat him.”

           Numbah Two nodded, “Legend says the Boogieguy had a nasty plan to open a portal to unleash meanest, nastiest monsters another world to get kids to behave better. But Numbah Seventy-Two heard and went to beat him once and for all. And she did too. She trapped him in his own trap. He’s been there ever since!”

Numbah Three added, “Numbah Seventy-Two finally defeated the Boogieguy, she locked him away in a place so scary, so terrifying not even the adults would be willing to go near it. Which it means it has to be really, really, REALLY, scary. Only she knew how to get him out. She used a super-secret password that only she knew. And then, and then she, she!” Numbah Three burst into tears.

Numbah One placed a hand on her shoulder to calm her down, “To stop the Boogieguy for good, and to make sure no kid ever had to suffer his wrath again, she decommissioned herself. She was only eleven.”

“It was a hard sacrifice, but one kids everywhere will never forget,” Numbah One vowed. “And the Global KND didn’t let it be in vain. We fought back harder than ever before. Her team-”

“But, but,” Numbah Four look around, “She wasn’t even a teenager, why’d she go and do a stupid thing like that for?”

“To save us,” Numbah Five answered, and put her hat back on. She looked at Marinette with hard eyes. “To save the KND, and protect kids everywhere. Because of her, the KND finally turned the tables on adults. We weren’t scared of the dark anymore.”

“Was never the same!” Numbah Five snapped at him. “None of them were ever the same after fighting Boogieguy, after what happened to Numbah Seventy-Two. They couldn’t handle being around each other anymore. They are transferred to different teams. Their entire sector was retired. Number Three Hundred and Sixty-Two. Numbuh Sixty. My sister- Cree! Numbah Two Hundred and Seventy-Four, UGH! Look what they became. Ya don’t need to be decommissioned to not recognize them anymore.”

           It went quiet. The kids not knowing what to say. Marinette had never been so confused in her life. Had she been some sort of Spy kid? Had her memories been erased? What was going on?

           And if everything, the kids were saying was real, and Marinette decided that it was, then she was a little peeved at Chad and Cree, her old teammates apparently, for going against everything this KND had accomplished… That Marinette had apparently sacrificed herself for. And what for? To side with some evil adults?

“…The KND have figured out a way to destroy Boogieguy forever,” Numbah one said. “Unfortunately the adults have also become aware of the Boogieguy’s location and want release him. In order for either side to succeed in their mission, we need Numbah Seventy-Two.”

           All eyes turned back to Marinette.

Numbah Five cast a sad look at Numbah Seventy-Two, Marinette, “Chad and Cree will come for her.” Of that Numbah five was certain. The lone picture of ABC that sat next to Cree’s bedside nightstand was proof enough of that. It was the only thing her big sister ever kept of her KND days, apart from her memories. The only “little kid” thing she didn’t scorn. “They won’t stop until they get her. I don’t think Cree or Chad ever forgave the KND agreeing that Numbah Seventy-Two should erase her memories.”

           They never forgave themselves for letting her, Abby didn’t add.

“She was decommissioned, hello!” Numbah Two reminded them. “She can’t remember anything.”

           Number One took off his glasses and looked at the teenager who, in another life, had been everything he ever dreamed of being in the KND. She was a legend. A hero. She had, once, been the best of them all. “She will.”