#but then suddenly he sees the guard unlocking his cell and he’s told someone has payed his bail

[sikyurame]

Not gonna lie, Gyro being ex-FOWL is an au I can get behind

[imawreck]

Memory

Pairing: Bucky Barnes/Winter Soldier x Original Character

Summary: While in surgery, Bucky has a memory that reveals a little more about his relationship with Snow.

Warnings: flashback, mentions of torture and Winter Soldier!Bucky, injuries, scars

Word Count: 2,419

Ghost-

Captain Rogers leapt off the bed as the dead bolt slid into place, fists raised and blue eyes wide in surprise. I ripped the cap off of my head, tossing it into the chair beside the door. "Explain. Now."

"How did you get in here?" He dropped his fists, taking a seat back on the bed.

"Answer me, Rogers. What happened out there?" I searched his face for any giveaways. He sat with his shoulders slumped, a bruise flowering against his cheekbone. His lip was split, and he held his side loosely with one arm.

He searched the tile floor with his eyes before raising them to mine, "You were right. Strucker is more dangerous than we had anticipated. Hydra has made more Super Soldiers, a dozen at least, and they were there." Worry lines creased on his brow as he held his side tighter. "He knew Bucky's triggers. He used them to make him attack the team. I had to knock him out to stop him, but as I was trying to get him back to the jet, Strucker shot him. I guess he decided if Hydra didn't have him than the only other option was to try and kill him." He dropped his head into his hands. "It's my fault he's hurt."

I didn't really hear anything after that. It was like I was under water, like someone had shoved stuffing in my ears.

I could feel my body move without my command and I could only watch as my fists clenched around Steve's suit and I lifted him level with my face. "I told you not to let him go and you dismissed me. He was nearly killed because of you." My heart was pounding in my ears as I stared at his startled face. His fists were clenched around my wrists almost painfully tight as I spoke. "If he dies, all of you will pay."

I released him and moved to the door, unlocking the deadbolt and slipping back into the hallway. I ripped off the nurses garb and tossed it to the floor, suddenly uncaring whether the security took me away or not. It was probably better if they did. A feeling of emptiness had begun to consume me and it seemed that my care was swallowed up into its depths.

Voices of the security guards became louder as I approached the main hallway. I spotted the woman I had questioned again as she searched the faces of the agents and other nurses passing by. When her eyes landed on me I could visibly see the blood drain from her face. She gripped the arm of the guard closest to her and pointed with a shaky finger, mumbling something I couldn't hear over the white noise swimming in my ears. He radioed in and suddenly I was surrounded from all sides.

I didn't feel like fighting as they gripped my wrists and knocked me to the floor. Cool metal rested against my skin a moment later and I was being dragged down the hallway, presumably back to the holding cell.

We passed several rooms as they dragged me along, the tops of my feet dragging across the cold linoleum floor. Natasha and Banner were in one, their faces illuminated behind the glass with their looks of pity made me drop my head from view.

I couldn't stand pity.

I was one of the strongest soldiers ever created, I didn't need pity. And yet here I was letting these men drag me down a hallway, handcuffed and swallowed in an encapsulating pit of dread.

_____

Ghost-

I rested my head against my cuffed wrists. The guards had left them on when they had tossed me back into Tony's new and improved Super Soldier cell now completely fortified with vibranium bars. I had been in here for at least three hours, though I wasn't really keeping time. My mind was preoccupied with thoughts of Bucky. I wondered how he was, and if the surgery had gone well. I knew he would recover faster than the average person, but he would still be uncomfortable for at least a few days.

I heard footsteps echoing beyond the door leading to the cell and buried my head further into my arms. I didn't want to talk to anyone right now.

Against my wishes, the door creaked open and in stepped the last person I wanted to see. Tony. I peered at him through the gap between my arms, my elbows propped up on my knees.

He was much less bruised up than the others were, more than likely the perks of fighting in a metal suit, but he carried himself with a subtle limp. When he stopped just on the other side of the cell, he tilted his head and set his brows in a frown. "You attacked a nurse."

I shifted my body away from him, pressing myself against the wall, "I didn't attack her, I asked her a question."

His gaze hardened, "By threatening her. She said it was like you were a rabid animal, bared your teeth and everything."

"I didn't hurt her." I closed my eyes, trying hard to ignore the man's presence. "Unless you're going to punish me, go away."

"Steve said you were pretty upset, said you visited him while the nurse was out of the room. He also mentioned that you threatened the team." He crossed his arms over his chest, putting his fingers against his face and resting his head against his palm.

I pulled my head up from my position against the wall, staring him down. "I wasn't in the right mind."

Tony scoffed and threw his arms up. "Is that all you have to say?"

I shoved off from the floor and marched over to stand in front of him. Rage pooled in my stomach and I fought the urge to slam my fist against the glass right where his pretty little face stared at me from the other side. "I told you not to let him go, I warned you that Strucker was dangerous. He was one of the leaders of Hydra, Tony. I worked under him for decades. He will stop at nothing until he has what he wants, and that means people are going to die until it happens. He doesn't care who or how many, all he cares about is getting back the Asset. Or killing him if he can't get him back into his own possession evidently."

I bored holes through the glass, watching my words churn in Tony's head. I ran my fingers through my hair, resting my palms against the glass to steady myself afterwards while I squeezed my eyes shut. "I was raised to protect the Asset, programmed to, if you would. I wasn't made exactly like Bucky, no, I have a free will and thoughts, but that doesn't mean that I can just disobey what I was created to do. Something happened to me when I found out he was hurt. It was like a switch was flipped and I was flying on autopilot. I could control myself and I couldn't at the same time. When the jet left the launchpad, my nerves felt like they were on fire Tony. I can't do that again."

Tony watched me for a few moments, mulling over my confession and seeming to debate in his own head. "I can't let you out yet until we're certain there is nothing going on with you. You understand that, don't you?"

I nodded, accepting my confinement. "Understood."

I turned to return to my position against the wall but his voice caught me again, "Barnes is out of surgery. He's stable for right now. I thought you should know."

My shoulders dropped as relief washed over me in waves. I nearly dropped to the floor and wept. "Thank you. I'm sorry for how I acted, it wasn't right. Tell the nurse I'm sorry for scaring her."

He left after that, leaving me alone once more.

_____

Bucky-

I was dreaming.

I knew I had to have been. I was laying in a bed that wasn't my own, the soft sheets engulfing my body. I should have been alarmed, but an odd sense of calm swept through me. The bed dipped beside me, catching my attention. It was Snow, but her hair was longer and still a deep chestnut brown. She smiled warmly at me and my stomach writhed with butterflies. "Good Morning, Winter." Her voice was light and kind despite speaking in Russian, the common brash speech softened as the words fell from her lips. Her hand reached out and brushed my hair away from my face, "You should return to them soon. They will punish you if they find you here."

I felt myself roll over, capturing her palm with my left arm and pressing it firmly against my face. She smelled of flowers despite the fact that I knew we were too far in the mountains for there to be any alive or close by. It was intoxicating. It was my own voice that spoke to her, replying in Russian, but I wasn't in control of it. "I don't want to leave you."

A lock of hair fell into her eyes and she was quick to sweep it behind her ear. "I will see you again. You have a mission today, I'll be sure to see you right after." Her thumb brushed against my cheek sending warmth wherever it touched. "You should go."

I squeezed her hand gently before easing out from under the covers. As soon as I made it out of the door, the scene shifted. Years later perhaps, maybe not, I couldn't tell. I was standing before an aged log of wood cemented into the floor. A gnarled bar stuck out and curled into a loop, and from it dangled a pair of cuffs. A man walked up to me, drawing my attention from the group of soldiers entering the door behind the block. I immediately recognized him as Strucker, my body straightening at the sight of him. His face drew into a crewd smile as he addressed me, "Soldat."

"Ready to comply."

He stepped aside and my eyes directed themselves to the body now chained to the block in front of me. My heart stilled, blood draining from my face. A woman's bare back was displayed as she sat knelt on her knees. Scars of various sizes and shades littered its entirety. Her arms hung from the shackles clamped around her wrist and her fists clenched around their chains. My heart ached, but I couldn't understand why. Something about her was familiar to me, but I couldn't remember her.

Strucker lifted his arm and gestured towards her figure. "Do you recognize this woman, Soldat?"

I couldn't remember her. I knew I should, there was a part of me screaming for me to remember her. "No, Commander."

The woman turned her head to look at me over her shoulder. Her eyes were the lightest blue I had ever seen. Snow. Strucker opened his palm and a soldier lined behind him brought forward a whip. "This woman is to be punished for undermining her Handlers. I want you to execute the punishment."

He extended the leather handle to me, my body automatically moving to take it as commanded. I waited for him to give me further instructions.

He folded his hands behind his back and tilted his chin up. I began screaming into my own head, but I couldn't stop, couldn't control what was about to happen. Strucker smiled, "You may begin."

I jolted awake, causing a searing pain to erupt from my side. I gripped it, noticing the gauze taped to my bare skin. I was drenched in sweat. A body jerked up at my movements and my eyes landed on Steve's disheveled form. "Hey there Buck, easy."

I leaned back into the hospital mattress, groaning at the pain in my side. "What happened?"

Steve pursed his lips, "Strucker knew your trigger words."

"Shit." I draped my palm over my face, "What did I do?"

Steve shook his head slowly as he folded his hands together against the side of the bed, "Nothing too bad. Just gave Nat a mild concussion. I knocked you out before you could do too much."

Another pang resonated from my abdomen. "And this?" I pressed around the wound lightly, hissing at the ache that followed it.

Steve's mouth thinned. "Strucker shot you when we were heading back to the jet. You lost a lot of blood." He brushed his fingers over his knuckles. "Bucky, a lot of things happened while you were out of it. Snow, I mean, she... She wasn't doing too well after finding out you got injured."

That struck my attention. “What do you mean?" I sat up, ignoring the pain that followed my movements. "Is she alright?"

Steve nodded, "She's alright, just went a little off the edge when she found out. She hunted me down and asked me what happened to you, and after I told her... It was like she just went blank. She lifted me like I weighed nothing and told me that if you died then we would all pay." He shook his head, "I don't think she meant it, she was just scared." I could hear the denial lingering in his voice.

"I had a memory while I was under. I was in her quarters and she called me Winter like she did when we first came here. She looked a lot different, I don't think she was enhanced yet. They made me forget her. They made me torture her for being with me."

Steve watched me closely as I explained my memory to him, not saying a word or questioning what I meant by her 'being with me'. He was just nodding as I went. "She cares a lot about you Bucky. Living with her memories and knowing you can't remember them as she does is probably not the easiest thing for her to go through."

I lifted my hands from my eyes, "Steve... the way she spoke to me. The way she treated me, I think she... I think we were something more."

Steve gave me a soft smile, "You should talk to her when you heal up. She will want to see you. Tony’s put her back in the cell because of her outburst. She'll probably be in there a while."

I scoffed, "Dammit, Stark."

Tags <3

@blackbirdwitch22 / @cjand10 / @imdoingathingmom

[babybluebex]

next week [baron zemo x reader]

summary ↠ you're hired to give a message to a german prisoner, but you never expected to actually take a liking to him. pairing ↠ baron helmut zemo x fem!reader (y/n) word count ↠ 2.9k warnings ↠ explicit language, a bit of nonsexual choking, zemo calls you a bitch a/n ↠ after a week, here she is!! also, if there's demand for it... part 2? until then, enjoy! masterlist/taglist in bio!

The prison felt cold and unforgiving, and you instinctively wrapped your arms around yourself. You followed the guard down the halls, twists and turns with no hope of remembering the correct way out.You figured that they had designed it that way on purpose; nobody could leave and escape if the way out was a labyrinth. Finally, you were led to a man sitting at a desk. His eyes followed you as you approached, and it was only once you were fully in front of him did he speak. “Name?” he asked in German, and you cleared your throat. Your German was shaky, but would have to do.

“Zemo,” you replied. “I’m here for visitation with my husband.”

The man laughed a bit. “Pretty girl visiting her man in prison,” he mumbled. “Such a waste. Take off your jacket, Frau Zemo.”

You had no reason to be nervous, but you still shook a bit when you slid your jacket off and held your arms out for the necessary pat-down. But, as you pondered it, you actually had quite a lot to be scared of. The past three days had been hell, for sure. It started with a firm knock on your apartment door in your home of New York City, and you had opened it to see a man with a metal arm and surprisingly kind eyes. He had introduced himself as simply James, and he had told you that he needed you to do something for him.

“I know you’re Sokovian,” James had explained. “I found your name on a registry of citizens that were moved to the US following the Sokovia incident a few years back. If you do this for me, I’ll help you get access to the city ruins. You were young when you lost your parents, yeah? I know the feeling. Not having closure is… Awful. Wouldn’t wish it on anyone. But, in order to do that, I need you to do something for me?”

You had looked James up and down. “What is the something?” you asked.

“I have a friend,” he began and gave a little wince. “Acquaintance. Umm, I know someone who’s in a German prison right now, and he’s going to be a big help to me and my business partner. All you need to do is go in and give him a message.”

“What sort of message?”

“‘Winter’s coming soon. Next week, I imagine.’ Has to be that, verbatim; don’t say anything about who sent you or why. I’ve already got the meeting and everything set up, you just need to go visit him and give him that message.”

“What does that mean?” you asked.

James had hesitated for a moment, tapping his metal fingers against the arm of his chair. “It’s better if you didn’t know,” he said. “I need as little people involved here as possible. I would go in and give him the message myself, but I’m kind-of a wanted man myself. Will you help us?”

James had been thorough in setting up the meeting, even going as far as purchasing a gently-used set of rings for you to wear. He told you that this man, Helmut Zemo, had been in prison for seven years for a variety of things, the heftiest being murder. “He was justified, though,” James said, and you pretended not to notice his small “I guess.”

The guard said something into his radio unit, and you caught enough of it to know that he was approving you to enter. You knew nothing about this Helmut Zemo other than what James had told you, only the bare basics. Sokovian, had a family that was killed at the same time as yours. According to James, Zemo wasn’t dangerous. He would be more confused than anything, he told you. But, no matter what Zemo did, if he denied he had in you no right, you had to keep with it and deliver the message in a natural way. You were his wife, and you were happy to see him.

The light flicked on over the bed, and Zemo gave a quiet grunt of disdain. It was four in the afternoon, and he always asked for the light to be off. Four was when other prisoners were granted visitation, but he had nobody. Stupid light must have accidentally been triggered.

“Zemo!” he heard a guard call from down the hall, and he pulled himself from bed and approached the plexiglass divider that separated him from freedom. “I thought you said you don’t have a wife!”

“I don’t!” Zemo called back, an irritated edge in his voice.

He finally saw the guard turn the corner and approach, and his eyes instantly fixed on the girl that was trailing behind him. She was young, much, much younger than him, and strikingly beautiful. Maybe it was the seven years in jail, but he could have sworn that he was looking at an angel. She seemed nervous, and Helmut focused his gaze on the rings on her left hand. Before he could speak up and correct the guard that this woman wasn’t his wife, she spoke up. “My God,” she whispered in a soft English, her voice heavy with a familiar Sokovian accent. “Helmut, you look… Tired, my love.”

Zemo tried to gauge the woman. She seemed too green to be an assassin, so at least that was something. And she knew his name. How did she know his name? “I am tired, mein lieber,” he sighed, and he pressed his palms up against the glass. She stepped closer and did the same, laying her hands just opposite his, and he examined her rings. Small, simple, unassuming. Props. “You’re so beautiful.”

You gave a small laugh, one that you hoped sounded like a woman whose husband had complimented her. Did he really mean it? Or had he caught onto the act as well? He seemed smart, you had to admit. And he was handsome too. Though his eyes were dull and dark with exhaustion, they were still a lovely brown. His hair was messy but showed hints of ginger in the dark locks, and his scruffy facial hair accented his soft jaw. However exhausted he was, he was still quite the looker. And he was the first full-blooded Sokovian that you had willingly met since the incident. “Can I hold him?” you asked the guard, lowering your voice and tightening your throat to try to feign emotion. “Please?”

The guard blinked slowly, and he nodded. He translated the request through his radio, and, just a moment later, there was the loud buzz as the cell door was unlocked, and it slowly creaked open. You wasted no time in meeting Zemo at the door and throwing your arms around him, and he held you with the strength of a thousand men as you dug your face into his neck. He shushed you gently, stroking your back, and he pressed his mouth to your temple in a fake kiss. “Why’re you here?” he mumbled through gritted teeth, praying the guard hadn’t noticed it. “Who are you?”

“I missed you,” you whimpered into his neck. “I’m sorry, Helmut, but I moved to the States, and I couldn’t exactly tell people who I was or who you were or why I was living in New York alone but married--”

Zemo moved his lips from your temple to your mouth, and he captured you in a slow and deliberate kiss. Whatever game you were playing, he would join. What’s a bit of fun? Anyway, seven years was a long time to not even touch a woman. If he wanted to kiss you, you would let him. According to the stories James had told you about his family, you figured that he deserved it.

You finally pulled out of the kiss and embraced the man once more, and you mumbled, “It’s so cold in here, Helmut. How do you manage?”

“I make do, mein lieber,” Zemo said. “At least you’re here to keep me warm now.”

“Not for very long,” you said softly. Then, you looked over your shoulder at the guard, and you asked, “Ten minutes, yes?”

The guard nodded silently, and you turned back to Zemo. “Well,” you started, breaking away from him and passing your hand over your cheek to wipe up (nonexistent) tears. “Show me your room.”

Zemo gave a small smile and took your hand, the one with the rings, and you pulled you into the cell. You weren’t lying; it was awfully cold. The room was devoid of much of anything, just the bed and a small sink and toilet in the corner. Books were stacked up beside the bed, all dog-eared and torn at the corners, and a small woven mat was in front of the bed.

“You’ve taken good care of them,” Zemo said suddenly, and you looked away from the stack of books to see him holding your hand up to see the rings. “I figured you wouldn’t even wear them after…”

“What makes you think that?” you asked gently. “I married you, I’d never pretend I didn’t.”

“I love you,” Zemo said quickly, nearly interrupting your sentence. “I missed you.”

You nodded silently, and Zemo tugged you into him once more. His arms were tight around your waist, his hand stroking up and down your back, and he laid a small kiss on your neck. Zemo kept his mouth at your pulse point for long enough to gauge just how fast your heart was beating, and he nodded to himself. A spy of some sort. But what did you want?

You looked at the glass wall of the cell, and you saw that the guard had stepped away, and suddenly every piece of James’ plan fell into place in your mind. Like James said, he couldn’t give Zemo the message himself, and it would be weird for someone like James’ partner to come visit Zemo in prison, especially after seven years of absolutely nobody, so someone else would have to do. You, a young Sokovian girl, Zemo’s wife, made sense. But after seven years, what wouldn’t make sense was if the married couple’s first meeting was just a conversation through a wall. No, the only way it made sense was if it was a conjugal visit.

Fuck.

Apparently, Zemo had caught onto this quicker than you had. His mouth on your neck pulled away in exchange for your lips, his hands captured your waist, and he tugged you fully into him so that your bodies were flushed together. Your anxiety made a quick squeak fall from your mouth, and you covered it with a giggle; you were sure that, even though the guard was gone, you were still being watched. “Seven years hasn’t dulled your charms, so it seems,” you said, and Zemo laughed.

“Of course not,” he chuckled. His hands slid up your body, carefully delving under your shirt, and he added, “I haven’t seen you in so long, it’s almost like I’m starting from the beginning.” He pulled out of the kiss, and you saw his eyes canvasing you, and he said, “My name’s Helmut. And yours, beautiful lady?”

“Goodness,” you huffed. “You’ve already married me, silly.”

“Indulge me, mein lieber,” Zemo said. Even though it was an act for the security cameras, he truly wanted to know your name. Maybe, with that, he could piece together why you were there. “Won’t you play my little game?”

You rolled your eyes, but played along. You told him your name, and he gave you a tight smile. “Beautiful name for a beautiful girl,” he said gently, and you could see that he really meant it. Married or not, you could tell that Zemo-- Helmut-- was grateful for your presence. “Can I offer you a dance, mein lieber?”

You pressed your arms around his neck and laid your head on his chest, and he squeezed you in a tight hug. Softly, he began to hum something in your ear, only for the two of you to hear, and he sighed as the two of you began to sway to his humming.

“Who are you?” he whispered, planting a kiss on the side of your face. “Who sent you?”

You swallowed thickly. You remembered that James had instructed you not to speak of him, and you mumbled, “I can’t imagine how it must feel to be here.”

“What are you talking about?” Zemo snarled, and he pushed his leg in-between yours as an “explanation” for the sudden change in temper. “I asked who you are.”

“Helmut, you have to trust me,” you whispered quickly.

“Trust?” he huffed. “You come in here, lying about yourself, and ask me to trust you? You, the bitch who claims to be my wife? That’s a big ask, sweetheart.”

“I--” you began. You really didn’t want to anger James by breaking from the meticulous plan he had made up, but you were more afraid of the man between your legs at the moment. He was a more urgent threat. You took fistfuls of Zemo’s off-ginger hair and pulled him closer, pressing your forehead against his, and you whispered, “A man came to my apartment two days ago. He said he needed my help, and he told me to come here and deliver a message.”

To the outside onlooker, when Zemo put his hand on your throat, it might have looked innocent. Not truly innocent, but certainly harmless. But it scared you shitless. His fingers were strong, and his thumb dug straight into your windpipe. It hurt, and your throat immediately began to burn with the urge for breath. “I’ll ask again,” he said easily. His eyes were a new sort of dark, not by exhaustion or confusion or arousal, but by rage. “Who sent you here?”

“I don’t know who he is,” you said quickly. “I only know his first name.”

“Which is?”

“James,” you choked out. “Light eyes, dark hair, prosthetic arm.”

Zemo’s grip loosened for only a moment, but then his thumb went back to its place. “He sent you to give me a message, didn’t he?” he asked. “About the winter. What did he say?”

You felt lightheaded, but you tried to stand your ground. “It comes in a week,” you said quickly. “Please let go of me.”

“Why you?” Zemo asked. “Of everyone in the world, why you?”

“My mother was killed in Sokovia,” you said, and fought back the urge to gag. “I only found out because I heard her name on the radio. Her apartment is still there, and James promised me that he could bypass the military blockade and get me there to say goodbye.”

Zemo’s hand fell slack around your throat, then off altogether. He took a small step back, and his eyes fell to the floor as his brain whirred to life. “He lied to you,” Zemo said carefully. “There’s nothing left. Not when I last went, and certainly not now.”

Your heart sank, and you pressed your hand to your neck, right where he had been. “You’re lying,” you said. “Th-There has to be something there.”

“That military blockade is there to keep people from settling on the land,” Zemo said. “Most of it was taken by surrounding countries, but the worst of it was… Is, just barren land. There’s nothing left for you to mourn.”

“How do you know?” you sniffled. “You’ve been in prison for nearly a decade.”

“Because I was there,” Zemo said. “My wife, son, and father were killed there. You wasted your time coming here; James can’t do anything for you.”

You hesitated for a second, then said, “But you can, right?”

Zemo froze. It was momentary, and you wouldn’t have noticed it if you yourself hadn’t said the words that triggered it, but he let out a heavy breath and resumed with the close-quarters dancing, his grip suddenly gentle again. “What makes you think that, mein lieber?”

“I’m not stupid,” you chuckled lightly. “I was young when I lived in Sokovia, but I recognized you when I saw you. Baron Helmut Zemo, locked up in a German prison; how aristocratic is that?”

“I have no power anymore,” Zemo mumbled. Sometimes, he nearly forgot his lineage, especially since the country he served didn’t exist anymore past his memories. “I cannot do anything.”

“Right,” you whispered slowly. “I figured as much... Who is James?”

“A man that I used to know,” Zemo said. “A man that I’ve never been friendly with, which is why I’m surprised that he would seek me out. He didn’t say why he was coming, did he?”

You shook your head, and Zemo laughed humourlessly. “Of course he didn’t,” he mused. “Shouldn’t have expected that… Next week? Guess I have to keep you here, make sure I stay plenty warm, huh?”

“I wish,” you chuckled. “You are rather cute, Helmut.”

Helmut Zemo laughed, the tops of his cheeks going pink. “And you tease me about my charms,” he said, his voice finally above a whisper; suddenly, the act of estranged husband and wife was back. You could easily pass off the bought of anger and crying as Helmut being too passionate, as Sokovians tended to be. “If you don’t watch yourself, Y/N, I might have to marry you all over again.”

[astrella-writes]

prompt | @ssoftlydreaming​ asked: nfjsja ok from sweet home can you do lee eun-hyeok and basically he has to decide if he should risk the danger of everyone in the apartment complex or save reader who is outside and struggling to survive.

warnings | female pronouns, angst, spoilers for episode one of the netflix adaptation of sweet home, if you haven’t watched episode one complete then this won’t make much sense, panic attacks, the general horror of sweet home, eun-hyuk being a logical pain in the ass, somewhat of an open-ending.

word count | 1.7K

author’s note | i hope this satisfies your masochistic desires! i’m honestly so happy to have angst as my first request, and that isn’t sarcasm at all.

The sound of his descending footsteps echoing throughout the concrete stairwell became background noise to Eun-Hyuk as he stared at the unanswered messages he had sent you well over an hour ago. This was strange behavior coming from you, considering you usually responded back within minutes. Not wanting to jump to conclusions, he tried to think of a logical explanation to calm his increasing worries. Perhaps your phone died on your walk home, or you had to work over-time without a chance to inform him.

He was certain some minor inconvenience caused your abrupt absence, although he couldn’t shake off the unnerving feeling settling like a burden of tense muscles upon his shoulders. Realizing there wasn’t much more he could do, especially since all the calls he gave you went straight to voice mail, he decided to wait patiently for a reply from you and try to keep his thoughts clear during the meantime.

Eun-Hyuk stuffed his phone into his pocket as he finally reached the half-open double doors that led out onto the first floor, his ears immediately picking up on the commotion before he looked over at the front entrance that was blocked by the shutters. A group of people stood dispersed nearby, talking amongst themselves and watching one resident in particular as he tried tugging on the metal bracing that barely budged. The man sighed, dropping his arm and admitting defeat as he walked away from the shutters, mumbling to himself.

‘First the elevators aren’t working, and now this?’ he thought to himself, unimpressed with the current situation, especially since he had work that night. He wasn’t the only one annoyed by the circumstances as the surrounding people openly expressed their vexation. Although, unlike most of them, he remained calm and simply observed the scene with his hands in his pockets. Multiple residents spoke loud enough for him to catch on to the fact that the security guard was missing, which made little sense considering this was an issue for him to resolve.

“Excuse me?” a feminine voice sounded from behind him, causing him to turn around and look at the woman. “Do you have any service on your cell?” Despite having just been on his phone, Eun-Hyuk was so preoccupied with his thoughts regarding your whereabouts that he didn’t notice the minor detail of whether he had any service.

Pulling out his phone and unlocking it, he immediately dialed your number, taking the possibility to hopefully connect with you and find out where you were. When his ear met with a high-pitched ringing, Eun-Hyuk lowered the phone, lost in thought for a second before looking at the woman.

“I guess not,” he said, watching as her face dropped in disappointment and she turned to walk away, but he stopped her with a question. “What’s going on here?” 

The woman hesitated, wondering if anything was even worth sharing considering she would give him more questions than answers. She went on to explain how every main exit had been closed up, locking everyone inside. Although she speculated someone was behind this, she had no idea who it was and for what purpose it was done. 

The explanation caused Eun-Hyuk to swallow thickly before turning his gaze towards the concealed entrance. He stared for a moment, silently wishing for your safety.

                                                          ―――

A shrill ringing penetrated your ear, causing you to jerk your head away from your phone and hang up on your attempt at calling Eun-Hyuk. With a frustrated cry, you threw your cellphone upon the ground, hearing the shattering of the screen as it smacked face-first against the concrete.

On the verge of tears, you made yourself as small as possible in the alleyway's corner, pulling your knees up to your chest as you rested your forehead on top of them. Your breathing grew increasingly more labored as the sensation of dread and pure hopelessness consumed your mind.

Eun-Hyuk’s words repeated in your head during times like this, when you were at risk of having a panic attack. Stay still. Take slow breaths. Think of something nice.

You squeezed your eyes shut, allowing the gathering tears to flow freely down your cheeks as they gathered at the tip of your chin. Forcing yourself to take in deep breaths, your trembling body gradually stilled. Eventually, your thoughts morphed as you focused on your breathing, rather than the surrounding chaos.

Think of something nice.

Eun-Hyuk’s face filled your mind, the sight prompting a ghost of a smile. You recalled your first meeting which occurred almost a year ago, when you had just moved into Green Roof Apartments. Someone had suddenly removed the towering stack of boxes you were carrying from your hold, and just as you were about to thank the person for helping, you realized you recognized him.

It turns out that you both used to attend the same high school, although you weren’t in the same class, your friend group interacted with his friend group quite a lot. Seeing his face brought back all those times at lunch when you would sneakily try to steal glances at him without your friends noticing. They noticed, of course, and teased you relentlessly about your crush but they were nonetheless supportive. They even proposed setting you two up on a date, because a ‘little birdie’ told them he had been crushing on you too.

Unfortunately, you were in such denial that someone as handsome as him had feelings for you, and rejected the offer. He was simply unobtainable, the extent of your relationship never surpassing polite greetings and friendly smiles until you both graduated and never saw each other again. Or at least, that’s what you assumed would happen.

It seemed fate gave you two another chance, unsatisfied with your prior silent pining and not acting upon anything. Considering you both matured immensely, talking came easy, and it wasn’t long before a much deeper connection began blossoming between the both of you.

His sister reacted indifferently when she walked out into the hallway one day, only to witness the both of you moving suspiciously away from each other, as if trying to conceal something. She caught on immediately, especially since her brother had been mentioning you quite often.

“Seriously? He’s the best you can do?” She scoffed, eyeing her brother disapprovingly before pushing between the both of you and walking off. You stared at her retreating figure in shock, oblivious to the smile on Eun-Yoo’s face as she disappeared down the stairs.

Once his sister found out, Eun-Hyuk became increasingly more open in terms of your relationship. And eventually, after a long week of his sister degrading him for not moving to the next step, he asked you to be his girlfriend. It wasn’t the most romantic of set-up’s; he had knocked on your door and asked you so casually that you wondered if he was joking.

When he assured you he wasn’t, you almost knocked him off his feet from the abrupt hug you gave him, accepting his simple proposal.

The memory faded, and the realization hit you like a truck. Eun-Hyuk was waiting for you, and you couldn’t give up on him. Taking a deep breath, you got up from the ground, trying not to focus on the screams and sounds of destruction in the distance as you lightly jogged towards the entrance of the alleyway. You peered behind the wall and looked both ways. The coast was clear; it was now or never.

                                                           ―――

You raced around the corner, narrowly dodging the attention of a nearby monster as its head popped up from one of the many dumpsters lining the brick wall of Green Roof Apartments, the location you had been trying to reach from when this all started.

The sound of metal creaking, which you quickly recognized to be the shutters descending, urged your aching legs to run faster as the darkness before you faded the closer you got to the entrance. That’s when you noticed Eun-Hyuk struggling to keep the shutters open as a distraught woman crawled towards him. He reached out a hand towards her, just as he looked up and made eye contact with you. His eyes widened at the sight, although bloodied and bruised, you were very much alive. You smiled at him, relieved, feeling safe already.

That was until you heard a rustling coming from your right, along with animalistic groans, as if something was just stirring back to life after being immobilized and ready to lash out again. A flurry of panicked voices came from the lobby of the apartment, everyone watching in horror as the hunched-over silhouette of the monster with a snake-like tongue began recovering to its full height.

Luckily for you, the monster disregarded your presence as it ambled towards the entrance. You stood frozen in fear as the shadow of its body passed over you, the sound of its languid steps lulling you into a trance as your body trembled lightly. 

It was perceptible that trying to run past it would end in your demise, leaving you stuck on what to do. Your pleading eyes drifted towards Eun-Hyuk, hoping he would come up with a plan to distract the monster long enough so you could make a break for the gap underneath the shutters he had been holding open - a perfect enough size for you to slide under.

He stared you dead in the eyes as he dropped the shutters; the metal clanging loudly against the tiled floor. You blanched, staring back at him in disbelief. A semblance of guilt took over his features, and you shook your head in denial. 

Your eyes stung with tears, and you wondered whether to cry and beg for him to help you or keep the remaining bit of dignity you had left. The monster suddenly shot its tongue within the gaps of the barred metal and Eun-Hyuk disappeared from sight as he dodged; the trance you were in instantly dissipating as you came to terms with the situation.

He left you to fend for yourself, surrounded by a horde of monsters. You weren’t sure whether to give up or keep going, considering nothing seemed worth fighting for at the moment. 

Did he regret it? Of course. Would he do it again? Without question. Eun-Hyuk would sacrifice anyone to keep his sister safe, even you, and even himself.

[bumblesimagines]

Green Thumb

Part 9

Request: Yes or No

Almost at double digits y'all. Can someone be an angel and send me the ages of every one between civil war and endgame? Ik Wanda was 18-19 in Age of Ultron and Civil war and Sam was probs in his mid to late twenties in Civil War.

~

You frowned, touching the collar around your neck. It made you feel like an animal. It was to prevent you from using your powers. Rhodes had mentioned it would shock you if you attempted to use your powers. You weren't sure if it was instantaneous or if someone controlled it but you didn't feel like finding out.

"You like cats?" Sam asked T'Challa, prince of Wakanda.

"Sam." Steve called, glancing over his shoulder like a disapproving parent. You snorted softly, biting your bottom lip.

"What? Dude shows up dressed like a cat and you don't want to know more?" Sam asked, looking at Steve.

"I like cats." You mumbled, looking at Sam with a small smile. Sam turned towards you with a small grin.

"Of course you do, Animal Planet." You rolled your eyes at the new nickname, shifting slightly. You really didn't want to trigger the collar.

"I'm a dog person."

"You look like a dog person."

"And what do dog people look like?"

"Morons." You answered, giving a slight shrug as Steve cracked a smile, trying to bite back a chuckle. Sam huffed lightly, looking away from you. A moment of silence passed before Steve spoke.

"Your suit.. Vibranium?" Steve asked T'Challa. The prince turned his head slightly.

"The Black Panther has been the protector of Wakanda for generations. It's meant to pass from warrior to warrior. Now, because your friend murdered my father, I also wear the mantle of king. So I ask you.. How long do you think you can keep your friend safe from me?" T'Challa asked, finally looking at Steve. Steve stayed silent, looking forward. You sighed through your nose, feeling the tension return. You wondered if Clint had been notified of your arrest yet. The van pulled into a parking garage, officers opening the door once it came to a stop. You got out, following Steve to the man and blonde.

"What's gonna happen to him?" Steve asked. You turned your head, looking over at him. You made eye contact with him again, holding it for a minute before looking away.

"What was that?" Sam asked quietly. You frowned, brows furrowing.

"That- That little staring contest."

"Oh, shut up." You huffed, looking away from him.

"Same thing that's gonna happen to you. Psychological evaluation." The man replied.

"This is Everett Ross, CIA operative and Task Force Commander." The woman, Sharon Carter, introduced him. Her gaze flickered to you.

"The shock collar will be taken off after the evaluation." She said, voice stotic but gaze pitiful.

"What about a lawyer?"

"Lawyer, that's funny. See their weapons are placed in lock up." Ross instructed the officers. Sam scoffed, following the officers. Steve spared one last glance to Bucky before following Ross and the officers. You walked besides Sam, being escorted through the building.

"You'll be placed in offices instead of cells. Do me a favor and stay in them." Ross stared straight forward as he spoke. T'Challa moved to walk beside him.

"I don't intend on going anywhere." T'Challa said. You spotted Natasha, feeling some sense of relief.

"Clint was informed and I assured him I'd keep an eye on you." Natasha told you, giving a small reassuring smile. She looked at Steve, addressing him. The relief went away upon hearing Tonys' voice. He finished his phone call, approaching you and the guys.

"Consequences?" Steve questioned, staring at him. You looked around the large room, noticing the screens and everything going on.

"Secretary Ross wants you three prosecuted." Tony said, motioning to them and you. Your brows furrowed slightly. There were two guys with the last name Ross who looked vaguely alike. That definitely wouldn't be hard to remember.

"I'm not getting that shield back, am I?" Steve asked as Tony and Natasha walked away.

"Technically, it belongs to the government. Wings too." Natasha said, shrugging.

"That's cold." Sam muttered.

"Warmer than jail." Tony called back. You looked at the security cameras, noticing the room Bucky had been moved to.

"You got the hots for him or something?" Sam asked. Steve turned to look at you, blinking a few times. You shot Sam a look, raising your brows.

"No, Samuel. I do not and if I did, why would you ask infront of his longtime bestie?" You asked, almost gritting your teeth. Sam raised his hands in surrender as Tony pulled Steve into a meeting room to talk.

"Why have a meeting in a glass box?" You asked quietly. Sam shrugged, looking it over.

"To prevent fighting." Sam answered. You watched at Steve and Tony seemed to argue. You looked at Sam with an amused smile.

"Physical fights." Sam clarified as Tony stepped out and Sharon had you and Sam enter. You took a seat across from Sam, looking at the security camera footage. Sharon entered, placing a paper infront of Sam.

"I'm sorry about the collar." Sharon apologized softly. You leaned back in the seat, shrugging lightly. She pressed a button, allowing Steve to listen to the footage. Sharon slid over some photos over to Steve.

"Why would the Task Force release this?" Steve asked. Sharon gave a shrug.

"To alert the public, I guess."

"Right.. A good way to force a guy into hiding. Got seven billion people looking for The Winter Solider."

"You're saying someone framed the guy to find him." Sharon mused quietly. Sam seemed confused, looking at Steve. You looked back at the footage on screen.

"Steve, you looked for the guy for two years and found nothing." Sam reminded him.

"We didn't bomb the UN."

"That doesn't guarantee that the person who framed him knew that we'd get him." Sharon looked at Steve. She suddenly frowned, brows furrowing as Steve turned towards the footage. You looked up as the power went out, seeing the staff begin to freak out and try to locate the source. You looked at Sam, slowly standing up. Sharon took out a key, sliding it over to you.

"Level 5 east wing." She said as you unlocked the collar, tossing it to the side as running out of the room with Sam and Steve. Whoever had framed Bucky had found him. You followed the two down the hall and down some stairs. You reached the area, finding guards on the ground. The interviewer lied on the ground, calling for help. Steve approached him with you hesitantly following. You noticed movement out of the corner of your eye, dodging Sam when he was thrown towards you.

"Hey, dude." You breathed out, swallowing. Bucky had a deep frown on his face, blue eyes holding nothing but bloodlust. He looked downright terrifying. You thrusted both hands forward, shooting a fireball that sent him flying back against the wall. Steve quickly stepped between you and him as you turned and rushed to Sam.

"Sam? Sam!" You shook his shoulders, shakey fingers pressing against his neck. You felt his pulse, relieved to feel his heartbeat. You slapped his cheek, waking him up.

"I've always wanted to do that." You muttered, watching him wince. He groaned, turning his head. You followed his gaze, seeing the guy from before looking down where Steve had been thrown. You stood, helping Sam up and following him up a set of stairs. With Steve out of commission temporarily and Bucky in a frenzy, the guy was the only hope of stopping everything.

"Can you try to stop him or trip him up?" Sam asked, rushing up the stairs.

"I can't see him and I'd rather not make this whole building collapse on accident." You replied, almost tripping over your own feet. Sam found an exit, following the crowd of people running.

"He looked like any other guy." You said, taking in deep breaths. Sam shot you a weird look.

"We just ran up like five flights of stairs." You breathed out, hands resting on your knees. At least the chilly weather provided some help. Sam noticed a jacket, jogging over and picking it up. You stumbled after him, looking it over.

"I really need some water." You whispered, lightly fanning yourself. Sam rolled his eyes, following the crowd of people. You sluggishly followed, giving him a small smile when he stopped by a shop to get you a bottle. He took out his phone as you drank half of it.

"Come on." Sam pulled you along, following direction and entering warehouse. Steve had Bucky laying against some machinery, unconscious and metal arm trapped in a wedge.

"You two okay?" Steve asked, looking you and Sam over with a concerned frown.

"Yeah.. Someone over here needs some more training." Sam glanced at you with a teasing smile. You rolled your eyes, licking your lips as you heard the sound of a helicopter.

"Could you ice over his arm?" Steve asked.

"He broke a stone wall. Ice won't hold him but sure, I'll do it." You shrugged, approaching the unconscious man. You licked your lips, splashing the rest of the water on the machinery and touching it after. The ice creeped down, covering over the metal arm. You looked at him, finally getting a proper look. He was handsome. Brown hair that barely reached his shoulders, facial hair just growing in, those icy blue eyes that either swirled with sadness or anger.

"You're giving him bedroom eyes again." Sam called, his voice echoing slightly. You clenched your jaw, looking at him.

"What? I can't admire something that looks nice?" You asked, watching his demeanor change. He looked alert yet amused. You frowned, looking back at Bucky and finding him staring right at you. You rolled your lips into your mouth, clearing your throat.

"God, that's so embarrassing." You whispered, speedwalking towards Sam as he cracked up. You ignored your burning face, arms crossing. Sam calmed down, wiping away a tear. Steve walked over, watching Bucky grunt and sit up. He looked at Steve, calling out his name in a hoarse voice.

"Which Bucky am I talking to?" Steve asked, staring at him intently. Bucky stayed silent for a moment before speaking.

"Your moms' name was Sarah... And you used to wear newspapers in your shoes." Bucky said, smiling softly. Steve relaxed, gaze softening.

"You don't read that in a magazine."

"Just like that we're supposed to be cool?" Sam asked, giving Steve a slightly wide eyed look.

"What did I do?" Bucky asked, looking between you, Steve, and Sam.

"Enough." Steve answered. Bucky shut his eyes tightly, shaking his head as he hung his head.

"I knew this would happen.." He whispered. "Everything HYDRA put inside of me is still there. All he had to do was say the god damn words."

"Who was he?"

"I don't know." Bucky answered, though you weren't sure if it was truthful or not. He didn't seem like the type to lie, at least not to Steve.

"People are dead. The guy did all that just to get ten minutes with you." Steve pointed out, watching his old best friend. Bucky looked defeated and confused. "I need you to do better than 'I don't know'."

"He wanted to know about Siberia. Where I was captain." Bucky said quietly, gaze flickering around as he tried to remember.

"He wanted to know exactly where."

"Why would he need to know that?" Bucky stayed silent, licking his lips as he stared at the ground. He looked at Steve.

"Cause I'm not the only Winter Solider." He revealed. You looked at Sam in confusion and surprise. Bucky was strong and deadly on his own but a whole army could overthrow governments all over the world.

"That's terrifying." You whispered, leaning against the wall and sliding down so you were sitting down. Steve chose to lean against the wall after letting Bucky's arm free.

"Who are they?" Steve asked as Bucky brushed some hair out of his face.

"Their most elite death squad. More kills than anyone in HYDRA history and that was before the serum." Bucky responded.

"They all turn out like you?" Sam asked. Bucky looked at him, swallowing.

"Worse."

"The doctor... Did he control them?" Steve tilted his head. Bucky looked down at his lap.

"Enough."

"Said he wanted to see an empire fall." Steve told you and Sam. Bucky looked up at his words.

"These guys could do it. They speak thirty languages, can hide in plain sight, infiltrate, assassinate. They could take a whole country down over night and you'd never see them coming."

"Color me impressed." You whispered, playing with the strings of the jacket you were given after getting to Berlin. Sam slowly walked towards Steve.

"This would've been a lot easier a week ago." Sam said quietly, arms crossing. You stood up, dusting off your pants and approaching them.

"If we told Tony-"

"He'd have him locked up." You cut off Steve, glancing back at him.

"Plus, he'd never believe us." Sam added.

"But if he did-"

"It wouldn't matter and who knows if the Accords would let us help him." Sam stared at him. Steve let out a defeated sigh, looking away from you and Sam.

"We're on our own."

"Not completely. Dad would help." You pointed out. Sam nodded, glancing at you.

"And, I know a guy." Sam said with a light shrug. You looked at him with a raised brow.

"You have friends?"

"I said I know him, not that we're friends but to answer your question, yes. I have friends that aren't you. Jealous?"

"Imaginary friends don't count."

~~~~~~~~~~

The drive was silent, Steve and Bucky occasionally reminiscing about the old days.

"On a scale of one to ten, how impressed is Clint gonna be when he sees you?" Sam asked. You smiled, letting out a chuckle as you watched the snowflake float inches above your hand.

"Probably an eleven, but he'll give me the typical dad speech infront of mom." You answered, lightly blowing on the snowflake and watching it disappear. Bucky turned his head to look at you. His muscular figure was semi cramped in the backseat. Steve picked the worst possible car to hijack.

"Hawkeye's your father?"

"Adoptive. He has a tendency of taking care of strays who once tried to take down the team." You told him, giving a small smile. Bucky hummed, nodding.

"Speaking of strays, how are you and Wanda?" Sam asked, glancing in the rearview mirror.

"Uhm, good? We're still good friends, even after the kiss." You shrugged lightly.

"Woah, kiss?" Steve repeated, brows raising.

"Yeah, we kissed but it felt.. Weird. There was no spark or overwhelming emotions. The love I have for her is the same love I have for Lila and the boys. She'll always be like a sister to me." You told them, glancing at Bucky. Bucky was still a bit on edge but you could tell he was trying to get adjusted.

"What are your powers?" Bucky asked, attempting to get comfortable in the car.

"I'm like the avatar, I guess."

"Who?" Bucky furrowed his brows. You blinked, lips parting as you stared at him. He was from the 1900s and worked for a criminal organization, obviously he wouldn't know a kids show from the 2000s.

"It's- It's from a show. An avatar is someone who controls all four elements and they basically save the world, I guess." You explained, growing a bit embarrassed at how silly it sounded. Bucky didn't seem to judge, giving a small smile.

"We could watch it together, if you want. It's a nice show." You offered, smiling. Sam raised his brows.

"Wonder what Clint will think about that." He muttered as Steve glanced at you and Bucky through the rearview mirror. You shot Sam a small glare, reaching out and touching the back of his neck with cold fingers. He hissed and leaned forward, pouting as he rubbed his neck.

"Yeah, I'd like that." Bucky said softly, nodding. You looked back at him, a smile appearing on your face. Bucky was incredibly attractive and you couldn't deny having a small growing crush on him but you didn't want to cross a boundary. He was from the 1900s afterall.

"How'd you end up fighting the Avengers?" Bucky asked, focusing all his attention onto you.

"The orphanage I grew up in threatened to kick me out since I had turned 18. I freaked and caused an accidental forest in the orphanage so the team was called." You told him, chuckling softly. Buckys' gaze softened, a hum leaving him.

"You've got some pretty cool powers, doll."

"Doll?" Steve and Sam repeated. A flustered smile appeared on your face, giggling softly. Bucky glanced at the two, wondering if he had crossed a line or said something wrong.

"Thanks." You looked forward, biting back an even bigger smile. You weren't completely sure if he was flirting or not but it was nice to get a compliment from an attractive guy, even if he had almost broken your friends' back an hour before. Steve slowly parked the car, getting out to greet Sharon.

"Could you move the seat up?" Bucky asked Sam, arm moving so it resting ontop of the carseats. His metal fingers lightly brushed against your hair but you weren't bothered by it.

"No." Sam replied. Bucky let out a deep sigh. You bit your bottom lip, looking at him.

"We can switch." You shrugged lightly.

"It's fine-"

"No, you shouldn't be squished back here." You faced him, feeling him gently grab your waist. He was incredibly gentle and cautious, moving you onto his lap briefly before he scooted to the side. You sat behind Sam, lightly kicking the seat. Sam moved it forward ever so slightly. You looked over at Steve and Sharon, blinking when they kissed.

"Oh? When did that happen?" You asked, brows furrowed. You knew there was some attraction between them but you didn't expect them to already be at the kissing stage.

"A while back, I think."

"Huh.." You whispered. Steve returned to the car with Sam's wings and his shield, putting them in the trunk. He drove to an airport parking lot, pulling up beside a van. You smiled widely, quickly getting out when Sam pulled the seat forward.

"Thanks for keeping my kid safe, Cap." Clint said, opening his arms as soon as he spotted you. You happily hugged him, feeling a sense of relief and safety wash over you.

"About time you started causing me trouble." Clint grinned as he pulled back. You noticed Wanda, pulling her into a hug as well.

"Saw it on the news. You okay?" She asked softly. You nodded, pulling back and brushing some of her red hair out of her face.

"Vision let you go easy?" You asked. Wanda shook her head, chuckling softly. Sam approached you, glancing back at Bucky.

"Might want to keep an eye on these two." Sam said, motioning to you and Bucky. Clint stared at him before looking turning to look at you. Wanda tilted her head, looking at you as well.

"You're such a dick." You muttered. You knew Sam was just being protective. He had always seen and treated you like a brother.

"Bad boy and older, huh? God, I hoping you had skipped those phases." Clint sighed heavily. You were partially suprised he hadn't mentioned or pointed out that Bucky was a guy. You hadn't really spoken about sexuality and attraction with him but knowing Clint, he'd be supportive about it.

"Not bad." Wanda said quietly, giggling softly as she smiled. You gave her a playful smile.

"I've got good taste."

[negandarylsatisfaction]

[SUMMARY: Rick's daughter Melody cant help her curiosity about the man locked up in the prison cell. Being kept secrets from her father, she takes it upon herself to get to know Negan and one day sneaks into the cell to find him asleep with morning wood.]

SEMI SMUT

Negan and Melody

Rick never really allowed you anywhere near Negan. Hell, you never even saw Negan yourself up close and personal. Although you were twenty, your father still treated you like the little five year old girl he used to carry on his shoulders. It was frustrating at times, he always wanted to keep secrets from you about what was going on in the group and he always said it was to protect you. The only times you ever saw Negan he was tied up being led into the prison cell. Truth was, you didnt know what he had done that was so bad. Your father seemed to keep everything from you that involved anything serious. You looked out the window and saw Daryl pass Eugene the keys for cell, each night someone was on guard. Looking to the right you saw your dad heading your way and quickly pulled down the blinds. After you were told Glenn had died in an accident on a run a few months ago many things changed. Maggie left, everyone seemed more distant and it left you confused.

"Get ready for bed, Melody," your dad spoke low as he entered the house making you sigh.

"I'm not tired dad."

"Mel, it's getting late-"

"And is there something we need to be ready for in the morning?" You responded with sarcasm looking back out the window.

"Besides...you never told me what that guy Negan did."

"I told you that's not up for discussion," he insisted making you roll your eyes.

"Is anything up for discussion? Whatever, I'm sure what he did wasnt that bad if hes being kept alive." You got up from the chair and walked past your father as he looked down with a straight face. There was no way he could tell you the truth of what Negan had done. Your father tried to protect you the best he could and losing people was enough, he didnt want to leave you with images in your head.

Waiting to be sure that your father was in his room you quietly snuck out of yours. Your curiosity ate at you and you were tired of your father treating you like a little girl. Making sure you werent heard, you stepped outside and walked towards where Negan was held captive. Eugene was heading back to the cell with a tray of food for Negan. You knew itd be easy to get around Eugene regardless of what your father instilled in his mind. Creating casual conversation with Eugene and some jokes to break the ice you offered to take Negan his lunch. Right away he made a face filled with doubt.

"I dont know about that, Melody..I'm in charge of his cell-"

"Yeah but you're in charge of the entrance. Who's going to watch while you are distracted handing him the food?" Eugene raised an eyebrow in thought, he felt like you had a point.

"Alright but your dad cant know about this, he'll kill me. So dont take too long."

"Dont worry I got it," you assured him before taking hold of the tray of food and the keys from his hand.

You could feel your heart beating out of your chest, you were nervous yet so curious to know the man that was hidden from you. Unlocking the door you walked down a dark hallway before reaching the cell.

"Well its about time one of you fuckers remembered to feed me," you froze at the sound of Negans voice before stepping out of the dark hall and into the light, revealing yourself. Negan looked up as he leaned against the wall not expecting to see a young attractive woman before him.

"Well excuse my French, where the fuck did your pretty little self come from?" Negan looked you up and down observing your skin tight jeans and crop shirt. Right from the jump you found this man to be very intimidating, taking a deep breath you stepped closer to his cell and bit your bottom lip nervously.

"Um...my name is Melody.. I came to bring you your meal," Negan slowly stepped closer to the bars with a smirk on his face and looked down at the tray in your hands.

"I see that...so you're gonna put that down for me, sweetheart?" He spoke slowly with an enticing voice.

"Oh..um, yes" you smiled before slowly bending down not noticing Negan tilt his head eyeing the curve of your ass as you slid the tray beneath the bars.

"Very nice.." he murmured low to himself before you got back up. Your eyes met his and you suddenly didnt move, his eyes were alluring and inviting all at once. Nervously clearing your throat you backed away brushing your hair back.

"I gotta ask, princess. What's a fine young woman like you doing alone with me here in my prison cell?"

"I wanted to see who you were...I'm not allowed to know things so-"

"So you're telling me no one knows you're here?" He raised a brow getting closer, although this man was behind the bars you still found yourself feeling nervous.

"No...everyone treats me like a little girl. I'm twenty years old and I'm tired of people covering up things for me," you explained.

"Shit, you are very young."

"Not too young where I cant be told what the hell you did to be in here, cant be all that bad if you're still alive."

Negan raised his brows sliding his tongue behind his lower lip.

"Oh no sweetheart, I'm no good." He spoke in a low voice.

"So let me guess, you're going to treat me like a little girl too and not tell me why?" Negan couldnt help himself but chuckle making you cross your arms.

"What's so funny?"

"Ohh...princess, if I was out of this cell right now I'd gladly show you how much of a grown woman I think you are."

"What?" You asked a little shocked not expecting him to express himself the way he did. You were quickly learning Negan had an unfiltered mouth.

"Dont mind me," Negan shook his head with a sigh.

"Its been a while and I'm just fucking frustrated."

"Its been a while since what?" You asked making him slightly lean back with a frown on his face.

"You really are innocent huh," you rolled your eyes.

"Listen, if you're going to say it just say it-"

"Its been a while since I've had some pussy." Negan blurt out making you stumble over your words.

"Oh-um...-" Negan grinned raising his brows at your reaction.

"Oh yes," he laughed as you nervously licked your lips.

"Shit..." he suddenly turned serious.

"How long has it been for you? Or wait let me guess, you haven't even had your cherry popped yet." Negan moved closer to the bars to get a closer look at you.

"Actually, I'm not a virgin but it's been a few years since I lost my virginity to this jackass. I havent slept with someone since."

"So you've gone a few years with out any relief?"

"Well um-obviously I've had relief-"

"Oh..so you like touching yourself," he bit his bottom lip in excitement.

"-But yes, it's been years since I've had sex and I'm okay with it, I dont need it." You couldnt believe you were even explaining this to him.

"Hm. Looks like whoever was hitting it wasnt hitting it right, shit I'd always have you coming back for more." You rolled your eyes holding back a smile, you kind of liked the attention he was giving you.

"Are you always this vulgar, Negan?"

"Only when I'm horny," he teased making you shake your head.

"Shit, do you blame me princess? You're the first woman that's spoken to me like I wasnt a damn monster. Plus I love some dirty talk." Negan had to admit the company was refreshing for him. You sighed with a smile and looked down at his food.

"Well, I guess I'll leave you to your food. I'll come by when I can again...if you want me to." Negan smiled sliding his tongue between his teeth.

"Oh I definitely do." You couldnt believe this man was flirting with you but you had to admit to yourself it was a fun interaction.

"Your secrets safe with me, Melody." Negan winked before you quietly left and locked the door shut.

That night you lay in bed smiling to yourself thinking of your very flirtatious talk with Negan. Your dad hadn't suspected a thing and you knew the next morning he would go on a run. It would be a perfect time to see Negan again. You were the first person in a long time to not make him feel like a monster and he was the first person who made you feel like a grown woman. Distracted by his flirtatious ways you didnt focus on the reason of him being held in a cell and Negan had no idea you were Rick Grimes only daughter.

The next morning just as suspected your father left on a run with Daryl and Michonne. The person on guard today was one of the men that you knew wasnt the biggest fan of your father. Of course you were to use this to your greatest advantage. Setting up a tray of breakfast with extra fruit you had grown in your garden you made your way to Negan. Unlocking the door, excitedly you walked down the hall to find Negan asleep with his back facing you as you set down his tray of food.

"Good morning, Negan." You spoke softly making him open his eyes. He groaned with a stretch and turned flat to his back making you gasp.

"What the fuck is your problem?" Negan looked at you confused before noticing exactly where your eyes were. The imprint of Negans very hard cock was practically bulging out of his pants.

"Ah shit-"he muttered to himself adjusting his pants.

"Sorry, sweetheart must've been having a nice little dream." He chuckled as he noticed you wouldnt stop staring at it.

"What, never seen some morning wood before?" He teased as he stood up.

"I mean, of course I just didnt expect to see you..I mean for you to be that way right now." You responded nervously as he made his way close to the bars of the cell.

"Right now?" He laughed.

"Oh princess, you have no idea how horny I am. How much I'd kill for the feel of sweet pussy...shit for a woman to just relieve me." The two of you were face to face now, only the bars separating you from each other.

"You know what I was dreaming about, princess?" Negan spoke as he noticed you would not stop looking down at his crotch area.

"I dreamt about you riding my cock." His voice was raspy, his words making you look up in shock.

"What?" You whispered.

"You left me last night thinking about things I wanted to do to you and this is the outcome." He motioned towards his erection.

"Why dont you touch it for me...just once." He spoke low, your lips parted at his request. Your heart was racing, it was arousing how much this man wanted you. Looking back at the door behind you making sure it was locked you looked back at Negan and nodded.

"Just once." You agreed making him grin.

"Atta girl."

Negan watched as you hesitatingly moved your hand in between the bars and began to slowly rub his crotch. A deep noise escaped his lips the first moment you touched him, his breathing was heavy as you moved your hand up and down.

"Oh my...-" you whispered feeling how rock solid he was.

"Oh, Melody.." he whispered as he closed his eyes. You could tell he obviously wanted more, you could tell how much he needed it. Without saying a word you began to unzip his pants and instantly his cock sprung out. It was thick and hot, you could feel him throbbing in your hand. The man was aching for some kind of relief, he was about ready to explode.

Spitting on your hand you began to move along his shaft. Negan moaned holding onto the bars as he watched you jerk him off. He could tell you were getting turned on as you began to breathe quickly. Negan reached through the bars and grabbed your throat applying pressure making you moan as you began to move your hand faster.

"Fuck baby, I dont think I can hold it-" he held his breath and grunted struggling to not let himself cum just yet.

"Hold on just a little bit more, I want you to cum hard." You whispered as he frowned holding on to the bar tightly, his knuckles turning white. It had been too long since he had been touched, too long since he had ejaculated and Negan had an intense rush. His other hand quickly sliding down your neck and pulling your v neck shirt down revealing your breast.

"Touch me, Negan. Do what you want." You whispered as your hand moved faster. Your words making his jaw clench as he squeezed your breast and let out a very loud and deep groan, loads of cum spilled out of him falling to ground.

"Yes.." you whispered loving the sight of him giving in.

"Dont stop-" he struggled to speak as he continued to cum all over your hand. He panted as you began to slow down before he let go of your breast and leaned against the bars. Releasing his cock from your hand you stepped back and looked at him from head to toe. His eyes were closed as he leaned his head on the bars, his cock twitching as you noticed all his cum on the concrete floor.

"Wow.." you whispered making him open his eyes. Grabbing a rag you had on you, you cleaned up your hand then handed it to him before he closed his pants. Negan cleared his throat before looking back up at you with a smirk.

"I guess I owe you one," he chuckled still trying to catch his breath making you laugh as you fixed your top.

"Glad I could be of help," you joked before the two of you locked eyes. The smiling fading from his face now.

"Seriously, it's been nice having you here."

Negan liked the sexual connection the two of you had, he also liked how you naturally conversed with him. You didnt treat him like an animal, you treated him like a human being. Negan knew he had messed up in life but he knew there was nothing he could do to change the past. All he could do was not repeat the same mistakes. What he did know was that he now knew for sure that he did not want you knowing his real reason behind being locked inside. He knew youd never look at him the same way again.

"Its been nice for me too. I havent really had conversation with anyone in my group." You sighed crossing your arms.

"After my friend Glenn died things changed." You whispered making Negans face change at the mention of Glenn's name. He looked away feeling a knot of guilt in the pit of his stomach.

"Everyone started acting different. I miss the way things were." You continued as you looked to the side and thought back of some memories.

"I think you should get going, Princess." Negan spoke low, his words making you look back at him confused.

"Wh-what? I thought we could talk-"

"Listen, I'm not your fucking therapist. Now get going." Negan snapped just wanting you to leave, his guilt eating up at him he felt like utter shit.

"So what jerking you off is all you needed so I'm good to go now?"

Negan remained silent, his head down not being able to look you in the eye.

"You know I know we dont know each other and you dont give a shit about me, but I thought we had an understanding that we both needed someone to talk to and not talk to them like something they're not." You snapped as he carefully listened to your words.

"That's the problem, sweetheart. They're not treating me like something I'm not. You are." His words left you speechless, what the hell did he mean by that?

"I told you I was no fucking good. Now get out of here." Negan turned his back to you, you couldnt believe what he was saying or what the hell even made him say these things.

"Screw you." Negan heard the crack in your voice before you stormed out and slammed the door shut. Negan sighed knowing he didnt want to hurt your feelings, hell he didnt even want you to leave. Angrily you walked back to your room and slammed the door shut, you felt so stupid you could scream. You swore you'd never see Negan again nor let your father ever find out of what had just happened.

Part 2? Trying to think of where I can go from here. Feel free to send in any ideas if you have. Xx

[rax-writes]

Family Man

Fandom:  MCU Pairing:  Baron Helmut Zemo x OC  [basically a reader insert, because the OC’s physical description isn’t addressed or anything, she just has a name] Warnings:  None Notes:  A Sokovian woman named Irina Molnár was born with the ability to teleport, and in time, she encounters the only man to gain her trust enough to show him. It just so happens that the man in question is the criminal mastermind Helmut Zemo. // So, as I said, it’s an OC but still basically a reader insert; don’t let the OC part deter you if you prefer x reader fics. It just worked better for me on the writing end to use a name, and I have an aversion to using “Y/N,” so I just threw in a pretty name. // TL;DR: Zemo as a dad just kills me & I wanted him to get a second chance at a family.

“I will assist you to the utmost of my ability, on one condition.”

“You’re in no position to be making demands, Zemo.”

“This is both for my own benefit, and yours, I assure you.”

If someone had asked Irina ten years ago where she thought she’d be at this point in life, her answer would have been incredibly far from accurate, for nothing could have predicted the path her life took.

Not that her life had been normal to begin with, being that she was born with the ability to teleport. Sokovia was not exactly a progressive country in the late 1980’s, so her parents had endlessly instructed her to conceal her ability, warning her of the countless dangers of her power being known to others. Her parents were so protective of her that when she teleported as a reflex at age thirteen, after walking along the sidewalk of main street in Novi Grad and a driver fell asleep at the wheel and headed straight for her, they packed up and moved to Russia in the middle of the night. Yet again, the same thing happened at age eighteen, when she was caught up in a hostage situation in a bank and the perpetrator caught her calling the police. Just as he aimed his gun at her and pulled the trigger, she disappeared. Irina and her parents fled to Germany in the dead of night less than twenty-four hours later, and she knew then that she needed to suppress her powers no matter what, being that her father was elderly, and her mother was too ill for them to ever travel again.

So, Irina settled into a normal life in Munich. She worked various odd jobs over the years to support her parents, made and lost a few friends, dated here and there. Her father passed when she was twenty-two, and two years later, her mother joined him. When living in the house where both her parents passed in their sleep became too unbearable, she packed up and moved to Berlin, getting a job at a high-security prison there. Less than a year after she began working there, a newcomer arrived: an inmate by the name of Helmut Zemo.

Being that he knew so much about HYDRA, from his extensive research on them, the American organization SHIELD wished to know more about them. A few psychiatrists and some professional interrogators tried for the first couple months, but they got nothing – quite literally, as he refused to utter a single word to any of them. Irina’s boss knew that she was Sokovian just like Zemo, so she was asked to extract any and all valuable information she could from the new prisoner.

Zemo was an intimidating man; calm, cool, and collected at all times, with eyes like a hawk that bore into Irina’s very soul each time he looked at her. She spent two months talking with him every other day, trying anything and everything she could to get him to talk, but he remained silent. At first, she tried asking him questions outright, but he wouldn’t ever say a word – just stare at her with those cold, calculating eyes. So, Irina changed her approach; they would chat idly in Sokovian to build rapport via their shared mother tongue, or she would ramble about her day, what book she was currently reading, her favorite movies, dates she went on. Those topics got him talking, chatting with her about the miscellaneous subjects she brought up, and both she and her supervisors took it as a good sign. She found that they shared similarities in terms of the loss of their families, and how the destruction of Sokovia hurt them both. Despite how frequently they spoke, he still never revealed anything of importance. After two months, her boss had a few interrogation experts give her some training, so she tried their tactics for another month, but she still got nowhere with him.

Three months after Irina began trying to get intel from Zemo, she sat down in the chair outside his cell, and huffed out a sigh.

“I’m afraid this will be my last visit, Zemo.”

“Why?” His voice held surprise, and a tinge of sadness.

“As you know, they assigned me to visit you for the sake of getting information from you. I’ve been consistently empty-handed over the past four months, so they’re giving up, assigning me back to regular patrol duty.”

“Will I still see you?”

“No. They’re moving me to the women’s side of the prison next week.”

Zemo simply stared at the ground in silence, hands clasped in his lap. Irina allowed the silence to linger for several minutes, then pulled something from her bag, unlocked the small opening on the side of his cell where guards gave him meals, slid the item through, and locked it shut again. He eyed it for a moment before standing and retrieving it, sitting back down on the bed as he looked at it.

“It’s that book I told you about last month, the one you said sounded interesting. Consider it a parting gift.”

He still said nothing, gaze locked on the book cover. Irina cleared her throat and stood, putting her bag on her shoulder as she looked to Zemo one last time.

“It has been nice getting to know you, Zemo. Take care of yourself.”

As Irina pulled open the door to leave, Zemo’s voice called out, “Wait!” She turned to face him and found that he was standing, clenching and unclenching his jaw as if he were thinking, before stating, “Tell your superiors that I will give them one piece of information on HYDRA every two months if you will have lunch with me twice each week.”

Irina’s brows raised in surprise, but she nodded in understanding. “I’ll pass the message along, Zemo.”

“Please… call me Helmut.”

The higher-ups were more than happy to agree to his terms, as long as Irina was okay with them as well, since it involved her. But she wasn't stupid. She told them that it felt like quite an undertaking to agree to such a thing, she had been considering looking for another job in the near future, etcetera. Naturally, they offered to double her pay to persuade her to commit to the arrangement, and it was then that she agreed. In truth, it was no skin off Irina’s nose to do it in the first place. As deranged as it was, Zemo had become her friend, her only friend, and she quite enjoyed talking with him. And even more deranged – bordering psychotic, really – she had developed a bit of a crush on him, finding him to be dangerously handsome and intelligent, so she certainly had no quarrels with agreeing to spend time with him.

Time seemed to fly when Irina began her twice weekly visits to Zemo. She found herself eagerly awaiting their lunches, and she always stayed longer than necessary. She would have rather eaten glass than admit it, but she frequently put a bit more effort into her hair and makeup on the days she would be seeing him.

God, I’m fucking pathetic, Irina thought to herself at least once a week, and yet it never stopped her.

It was another few months later when he said something that made her stomach drop to the pits of hell, and a cold sweat to break out on her skin.

“I know who you are, you know. I have since you first introduced yourself. Irina Molnár, the disappearing girl – at least, that’s what the headlines called you. I remember reading about it when I was a teenager, but the story was forgotten within a week.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Irina replied, but Zemo could hear the quiver in her voice.

“My apologies, I did not mean to make you uncomfortable. I have no intention of mentioning it to anyone besides you. I have simply been wondering… were the rumors true? Can you really just disappear into thin air?”

When Irina hesitated, he added, “Irina, no one would believe me if I told them, and even if they did, they would have no way to prove it. Besides, we have been acquainted for nearly a year now. You are my only solace in this living hell. I would have gone mad had you not came into my life. I would never do anything to risk you harm.”

She exhaled slowly, and looked at the ground when she said, “It’s not ‘disappearing.’ It’s teleporting.”

Zemo leaned forward in his seat, visibly invested in her confession.

“I’ve been able to do it since I was four. Scared my parents half to death when I suddenly appeared before their eyes, having been across the house mere seconds before. I learned to control it pretty quickly, but that day in Sokovia… I was only ten years old, and a car was coming right at me, full speed, so I panicked. I teleported home right before it crushed me, and it would have been a non-issue if my classmate hadn’t been a few feet away and saw the whole thing. He ran his mouth to the press about my identity, so we had to leave.”

“That was why you moved to Russia, not because your father got a job there,” Zemo realized, remembering when you initially told him about your move and falsified the reasoning.

“Yes. It happened again there, when someone shot at me. No one who was around at the time knew my name, so it never made it to the press, but my parents were overly cautious, so we fled to Germany. I’ve not done it since, besides in the comfort of my own home.”

“Show me.”

“You say stupid things for such a brilliant man, Helmut,” Irina said, nodding toward the camera in the corner of the room.

“After you get home tonight, teleport into my cell.”

“Did you miss what I said about the camera, or…?”

“The camera does not have a view of my bed. It only reaches the middle of my cell, not the very back of it where the bed is,” Zemo pointed out, and Irina realized that he was right. She had been in the camera room several times; the camera there did indeed only show the room and half of his cell, never the bed.

“I’ll think about it.”

Zemo smiled brightly, looking excited, like a little kid about to see a magic trick. That alone was enough to motivate Irina to do it, just for the opportunity to see that smile again. So, when she got home that night, she changed into a flowy, deep green sundress, touched up her makeup and hair, strapped on a nice pair of sandals, and then stood in her living room, hyping herself up to take such a risk.

There was a chance that she would get caught. Teleporting in front of anyone was always a risk, no matter what, her parents had always told her. But then that damned, dashing smile crossed Irina's mind, and before she had time to second-guess herself, she was standing at the foot of Zemo’s bed.

The book he’d been reading flew out of his hands as he practically jumped out of his skin, falling to the ground with a loud whack, and he pressed a palm to his chest as he tried to calm his erratic breathing.

“We really should have scheduled a specific time for your arrival,” he muttered, and Irina laughed softly. Thankfully, the cameras had no sound, but if a guard were passing by outside, they may have heard her. When he caught his breath a moment later, Zemo sat up in the bed, letting his legs hang off the edge as he patted the spot beside him. Irina took a seat, crossing her legs and leaning back on her hands.

“So, you were telling the truth. You can actually teleport,” Zemo observed, eyeing her with amusement and interest before he bombarded her with questions. “Can you teleport anywhere in the world? Are there parameters for your distance or location? How long does it take you to travel from one place to another? What does it feel like?”

“I can teleport anywhere I’ve been to or seen photographs of. I cannot do it blindly. The distance nor location does not matter, as long as I have seen my destination before. And it feels like… a slight tingling sensation, all over my body, but it only lasts until I arrive, which takes about a half second.”

“Fascinating,” Zemo whispered. He licked his lips before asking, “Are you capable of teleporting another individual along with you?”

Irina frowned at him. “I’m not breaking you out of prison, Helmut.”

“I didn’t ask that.”

“No, but you were alluding to it,” she countered, and he shrugged. “I can teleport another individual, but only over small distances. Each time I’ve tried, the most distance I’ve gotten with another person has been about ten yards.”

“Perhaps with practice, you could go further.”

“I practiced for years, and ten yards seems to be the true limit. Besides, the only others who have ever known about my ability were my parents, and since they’re gone, I have no test subjects.”

Zemo nodded solemnly, then asked, “What about teleporting repeatedly, in ten yard increments?”

“Tried that. Can only do it about three times before I’m too drained to do it again. Teleporting back-to-back with another person takes a lot of energy,” Irina answered, then added, “And again, even if I could, I am not breaking you out.”

“I am merely interested in your mutation, that is all,” Zemo retorted. Irina shot him a look that said ‘Really?’ so he relented with, “Perhaps also because I wanted to know if you could break me out, but that’s neither here nor there.”

"That's what I thought."

It was another month before either party made a move. They were sitting on Zemo’s bed, side by side, as Irina told him about her day at work, and the man who'd tried hitting on her in the grocery store earlier that evening.

"He thought he was very Rico Suave, but his execution was a nightmare."

"How so?"

"Well, for starters, he followed me around for nearly ten minutes while he worked up the courage to say something. He waited until I walked past him and greeted me with 'Hey, sexy lady.'"

"Oh no," Zemo said, grinning as he looked genuinely amused at this man's poor tactics, although his amusement was contingent upon whether or not Irina was actually interested in him. The way she poked fun at the man indicated a lack of interest, therefore, he was enjoying her tale.

"Oh yes. He then asked if it hurt when I fell from heaven, which is the most overused line in the book, yet he said it with such confidence. And then – get this – he leaned onto what he thought was a shelf, but it was actually a stacked display of cans, which toppled over and sent a hundred soup cans flying down the aisle."

Zemo chuckled, prompting Irina to continue.

"He played it off by saying that my beauty is just so distracting that he didn't even realize what he was doing, and then asked for my phone number."

"Did you give it to him?"

"Absolutely not," Irina said, laughing softly and shaking her head. Zemo was momentarily entranced by the way her beautiful hair fell around her face, and the sound of her laugh.

"Why not?"

"Not my type."

"What is your ‘type’?"

Irina leaned back on the wall behind her, looking up at the ceiling as she thought carefully. "Confidence, but not cockiness. Intelligence. Wit. Sarcastic senses of humor. Men with a sense of passion to them; some kind of fire and gusto about something, whether it be their work, art, music." She looked over at Zemo then, and allowed her gaze to travel slowly up and down his form. "Currently, my type seems to be men I can't have."

Zemo eyed her carefully, allowing himself to absorb her words fully for several moments. She was describing him – he just knew it. Or, he was too blinded by hopefulness and desire to realize that she wasn’t, but he figured there was only one way to find out. So, he leaned forward, closing the gap between them, and pressed his lips to hers.

Irina hesitated for half a second, surprised by his actions, but she recovered quickly and kissed him back. It was gentle, sweet, and explorative, both parties simply enjoying it while it lasts. Neither had any idea how long it lasted, as time stood still. Zemo was the first to pull away, eyes scanning Irina’s face as he looked at her with sheer adoration, as well as a touch of nervousness.

"I understand if you wish for me to never do that again, and I understand if you'd prefer to never see me again. But please know that I did not do that out of blind lust, or anything other fleeting emotion. I did it because my heart has yearned for you every day since first meeting you, and finally having you here next to me, where I can touch you… it was genuinely unbearable to hold myself back from kissing you. I have not felt anything like this since losing my wife, and I did not think my heart was capable of ever feeling it again. But you proved me wrong. I know I am risking an end to the only true human contact I have while trapped inside this cell, which truly frightens me, but the unyielding desire to tell you that I love you overpowers that fear."

Irina stared at him in shock for a few moments, before leaning her head back against the wall and closing her eyes. She exhaled slowly as she collected her thoughts before speaking. "Helmut… I love you, too, but I don't know how this would even work. You're never getting out of here. How can we have any kind of relationship when you're locked in a cell for the rest of your days?"

"We will make it work, my darling," Zemo said, sitting up straighter and turning to face her. "I will ensure that we mimic a true relationship as much as possible. I cannot wine and dine you as I would like to do, but I can easily bribe the guards to have lavish meals brought here for us to share on evenings such as these. I cannot take you out for birthdays or anniversaries, but I will ensure that you are showered with gifts on those days. My angel, I cannot give you a normal life, but I can promise to endlessly strive to make you happy."

Irina stared deeply into his eyes for what felt like an eternity, and she saw nothing but genuity, longing, and adoration there. She could feel the sincerity in his words, feel how desperately he wished for her to agree to his proposal. She was no fool; she knew that their relationship would be a struggle, and she knew that it would never be any resemblance of normal. But she also knew that he made her heart soar in a way no other man ever had, and that she would die feeling like she missed out on something incredible if she walked away from Zemo now.

“Okay,” Irina whispered, mostly to herself, before repeating it in a stronger, more self-assured voice. “Okay.”

For a man who always knew what to say, Zemo was at a loss for words, overcome with joy. He simply cupped her cheek and kissed her, far more passionately than before, allowing his triumphant and ecstatic feeling to flow through the kiss. Irina gripped the front of his sweatshirt in her fists, melting into him, before wrapping her arms around his neck as his free hand moved to rest on the curve of her waist.

Ages had passed by the time they broke apart, foreheads resting against each other as they fought to catch their breaths. Irina was the first to break the comfortable silence they created, laughing quietly in disbelief at the events that had just transpired. Zemo followed suit, a deep, velvety chuckle bubbling up from his chest. He pressed another kiss to her lips before leaning back and looking at her. They gazed at each other in sheer contented bliss for a few moments more, before Irina became the first to speak.

“I love you, Helmut.”

“And I love you, darling.”

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

The sound of the front door opening caused Irina to immediately look up from the book she'd been reading. She frowned, then stood and headed for the door as quickly as possible, calling out, "Nikolai! You know better than to open that door, young man!" When she reached the entryway, she stopped dead in her tracks.

There stood Helmut, wearing the softest, sweetest smile she'd ever seen as he opened his arms to her. She hesitated a moment, unsure whether or not it was real, before he murmured, "Hello, my love." His voice – that alluring raspy undertone, and the gentleness it took on as he spoke to her – broke Irina from her trance, and she ran to him and into his arms, careful of her rounded belly.

Zemo stroked her hair and held her, and her arms around his neck gripped him like a vice, to the point that it hurt a little, but he'd never tell her that. A small sob fell from Irina's lips before she even realized she'd started crying, and he whispered sweet nothings in her ear in Sokovian to soothe her, about how much he loved her and how happy he was to see her. When her crying quieted down a bit, he pulled away to kiss her, a kiss full of love and longing. When he broke the kiss a few moments later, she stroked his cheek lovingly, and he wiped the stray tears from her eyes.

"How are you here? What happened?" Irina asked, and only then did she notice the two men standing awkwardly by the doorway, their faces a mixture of suspicion and surprise. "Who are they?"

"They are the men who helped me escape. James was previously known as the Winter Soldier, and Sam is currently known as the Falcon, an Avenger."

Irina raised an eyebrow at him. "But… you… the Avengers… the Winter Soldier…."

"I know, I know. I am just as surprised as you are, but they need me for something, something very important."

"The Flag Smashers? I saw them on the news. They have Super Soldiers somehow."

"Yes, darling, exactly right. We'll find them, defeat them, and I'll be back before you know it."

Irina understood the implication of his words. He'd be back, but whether that would be in her home or in his cell was yet to be determined. But she knew him. She knew that he would not take his newfound freedom as a one-time opportunity. A storm of thoughts about what that would mean for them flashed through her mind, but Zemo’s hands on her stomach snapped her out of it.

"How is our daughter?" he asked, gently rubbing Irina’s baby bump, a bright smile blooming when the child inside kicked at his hands, as she always did. She had only been in existence for seven months, and she wasn't even born yet, but she already favored him over her mother.

"She's good, she's been moving around a lot today, as if she knew her Daddy was coming," Irina replied, earning a grin from Zemo. "The doctors told me this morning that her heartbeat is strong and she appears to be the picture of health."

"Good, good. And what about –"

"DADDY!" a tiny voice bellowed from down the hall, and they turned to see a small boy running full speed toward Zemo. Irina stepped back to allow him a clear passageway, smiling as Helmut crouched down to meet him, enveloping the boy in an embrace as he collided with his father's chest.

"Nikolai, I've missed you," Zemo stated, rubbing the boy's back as he stood, still holding his son. Irina caught the way her husband's voice wavered when he said that, and she laid a comforting hand on his back.

"I've missed you too, Daddy. Are you living with me and Mommy now?" Nikolai asked, leaning back in his father's arms to gaze at him with excitement plain on his face. Zemo gave him a smile, but Irina could see the sadness in it, knowing the future was uncertain.

"Not quite, buddy. Just here for a visit," Zemo replied, and Irina rubbed his back comfortingly before pressing a kiss to their son's temple.

Their family time was interrupted by Sam clearing his throat loudly, and when Zemo turned to face him, his smile faded.

"Sorry to interrupt, but Zemo, you've got some explaining to do, and not much time to do it. Don't forget we're on borrowed time here."

"Right," Zemo confirmed, then exhaled slowly. "James, Sam, this is my wife Irina and our son Nikolai…. He is five, and Irina is seven months along."

Confusion washed over both men's faces, and they exchanged a glance before the other, James, was the first to speak.

"But… you've been in prison for eight years. Have you been escaping every few years and no one's noticed?"

"I have not left my cell in eight years, consecutively. But my wife is capable of getting into my cell as often as we wish."

"So, what? You've just been having conjugal visits all the damn time? And the prison staff green-lit that?" Sam asked.

"No, not exactly," Zemo answered, then glanced at Irina. They shared a look before she explained further.

"I can teleport. I met Helmut when I was tasked with extrapolating information about HYDRA from him, and he refused to share anything unless the prison staff agreed to let him meet with me twice a week, just to chat, in which case he'd give them tidbits of information bi-monthly. They agreed, and before long, I revealed my ability to him. I'd visit him in his cell occasionally, because the cameras only show half of it. Over time, well… we fell in love. Nikolai came a few years later, and now…" Irina trailed off, then rubbed a hand over her pregnant belly.

"Why didn't you ever bust him out?" James asked.

"I can only teleport small distances with another person, and I can only do it twice at the most, so we'd have never made it off the grounds."

James and Sam were silent for a moment, absorbing the information they'd been given. Sam was the first to break the silence.

"Zemo, you said this little pitstop would benefit me and Bucky. But it's not like she can go with us," he said, sounding a bit irritated as he gestured towards Irina’s stomach. "So what the hell was the point?"

"It does benefit you. You now possess the knowledge that a teleporter exists. Congratulations," Zemo said dryly, then looked at his wife and son for a moment, before returning his attention to the men. "Sam, the point was that I lost my family when Sokovia was destroyed, and the family I have now has only ever seen me inside a prison cell. I wanted my son to have at least one memory of his father in his home with him."

James – no, Bucky, apparently – and Sam exchanged a look, before Bucky sighed and looked to Zemo.

"You have one hour. Sam and I will be guarding the exits, so don't try to escape. If you do…." He trailed off after glancing at Nikolai. "Let's just say it won't be pretty."

True to their word, Sam and Bucky remained stationed outside the home, one out front and one out back. Zemo milked that hour as much as possible, spending most of it in his son’s room with him and Irina, listening intently to Nikolai tell him all about what’s been going on at school, his favorite shows, the trip he took to the zoo the day before with Irina, etc.. He even told Zemo about each and every one of his toys, simply enjoying talking to his dad, and although Zemo was the one to send almost every one to him, therefore he already knew about them, he didn’t mention that. He simply listened intently as his son spoke, enjoying the quality time with him, exchanging smiles and occasional kisses with Irina. She showed him the nursery she’d been working on for their daughter, and he finished putting together the crib she’d started, Nikolai happily handing him parts and screws as needed. Zemo also moved the dresser and changing table to where she’d wanted them but couldn’t move them herself, then they settled into the living room shortly before the hour was up.

Sam and Bucky reentered the house to find the family sitting around the coffee table, playing a game of Jenga. They stood silently in the doorway to the living room, watching as Nikolai carefully drew a block from the tower before placing it back on the top with a triumphant look on his little face. Zemo commended his concentration, then drew a block himself, although he intentionally wiggled it a little so that the tower came toppling down.

“I won! Daddy, I won!”

“Yes, you did, my son. Excellent job,” Zemo said warmly, then glanced at Sam and Bucky before scooping the boy up into a tight hug. “Daddy has to go now, but I will see you again soon.”

“Do you have to go?”

“I’m afraid so. But I need you to promise me something before I leave. Take care of your mom for me, will you?”

“I will, I promise.”

“Good boy,” Zemo said with a smile, then kissed Nikolai’s forehead and set him down. Zemo stood and helped Irina stand up, hugging her tightly as he buried his face into her neck. Quietly, so that no one but her could hear, he said, “I will not be going back to prison unless there is no other way, but know that yours and our children’s safety is my utmost concern.”

“I know, Helmut,” Irina whispered back, and he pressed a long, lingering kiss to her lips. “I love you.”

“I love you, my angel,” Zemo murmured against her lips, then stooped down to hug his son again. “And I love you, Nikolai.”

“I love you, too, Daddy,” the boy responded, and the way his voice quivered as he choked back tears broke his parents’ hearts into a million pieces. Reluctantly, Zemo let him go and he wrapped his arms around his mother’s leg, resting his head against her as he sniffled and she rubbed his back.

“Be safe, sweetheart,” Irina commanded.

Zemo nodded to her before walking over to join Sam and Bucky. With one last heartbroken look at his family, he left, closing the door behind him as he let out a shaky breath. He didn’t meet the other men’s eyes as he walked over to the car, and after they all piled in, they drove in silence to the airport, off to their next stop in Madripoor.

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

@henrysmorgan​ @clints-lucky-arrow​ @therenlover​

[misamccn]

linked - killua zoldyck. 

pairing: killua zoldyck x female reader

chapter word count: 2182

content warnings: violence, blood, child abuse, trauma, anxiety, death, abusive parents. 

summary: soulmate au - seventeen year-old (y/n) has never been free. after 9 years of being locked away with her father who uses her for her nen ability, (y/n) escapes and is on the run. she has big plans to become a hunter and see the world...until she meets her soulmate killua and his friends after discovering that her father is after her and wants to take her back. will she escape her father with the help of killua, gon, and alluka? will she bond with killua, or will they sever their link? 

:: prologue - running to the starting line

You craved control.

For all of your life, you never got to experience any kind of control, except when you were a little girl. Your mom would let you choose things for yourself. Like when you wanted to train, what you wanted to eat, and who you wanted to play with. But one day, she dropped you off to your father's house and she was gone. Murdered in cold blood that same night. Your light, happiness, and control died with her that day too. Gone in an instant. You would never choose another thing for yourself from that moment forward.

Until now.

Your feet, clad in thick black leather combat shoes worn with dirt and time, slapped against the wet pavement as you ran to the bus station. You roughly rubbed your hands against your tear-stained eyes. How could I be so stupid, you thought to yourself as your heart pounded in agony against your chest.

He really fooled you good, didn't he? For a second there, you felt safe. Like someone actually cared and didn't want you for your power.

Giichi...you bastard.

You clenched your fists angrily as you wiped the tears from your eyes. No more tears, I have to keep going or else dad will find me and I'll end up back in that cell.

After your mom died, your dad took you in and decided to make you use your gift as a payment for him taking you in. He took you underground in his base. There were no windows, no light, no color. It was dull and empty. The only things in your cell were a mat with a blanket, a toilet, and chains on the wall that were used to restrain you when you failed him and needed to be punished. You spent nine painful years down there. You spent your time healing your father's gang members and guards when they came back from a fight. The worst nights were the nights where a lot of them got hurt. Healing that many of them at once would almost kill you at some times, but your father never let you stop. He never let you have a break. The pain of it all left you breathless.

You were his tool and your purpose was to fix the people that were destroyed for him and his money.

The most painful part of it all though was probably the loneliness of it all. You didn't get to have any friends, and the only person your age that you knew was this boy that you met on an island a long time ago.

There was also your soulmate, of course.

He was always there, never fully in focus, but lingering in your thoughts. His emotions and feelings often filled your mind when they were strong. You didn't know his name, or what he looked like, but you knew him. Even if it was just a little bit.

You first felt him there the night your mom died.

The thunder and rain pattering against your window drowned out the sound of your sobs as you lay in bed awake that night. You had never felt so alone before. Not only was your mother gone, but her whole clan was gone. The people that she loved so much, and the people that you were just getting to know. Your small hand grasped your pillow tightly as a sob ripped its way through your throat when all of a sudden, you felt it. It was small, but nonetheless present. A soft, unfamiliar warmth lingered in the corner of your mind, almost like it was a little bit timid. It soothed her, suddenly she didn't feel so alone.

"I'm sorry," it seemed to say.

With tears still streaming down your cheeks and your eyes wide open, you whispered back, "Thank you."

There were multiple other occasions that you felt him there.

After your father smacked you around a few times for not healing fast enough, or not giving the results he wanted, you'd feel that same warmth.

When you were on the brink of death after healing too many terrible wounds at once, you felt his panic in the corner of your mind.

Sometimes, you could feel a deep loneliness in his mind. Sometimes you could feel he was in physical pain, just like you.

Was it possible that he was going through something similar?

You often wondered if he felt the lack of control that you did.

You knew that you would be destined to meet one day. When and where you didn't really know. You haven't found him yet because his first words to you were still written across your collarbone and you had yet to hear them out loud.

You were in no rush to find your soulmate though, you still had plenty of things you wanted to do. So many places to explore. So much life to live and take back. You were in no rush to settle down with a partner that you had no control over choosing, especially since you just freed yourself.

You ran away from your father's house about 3 months ago. There was a big raid. Enemies of your father had never broken into his base before, and you knew it was likely that it wouldn't happen again soon. So when the locks on your cell were unlocked due to the damage that was happening to the base, you took the opportunity and ran. You took your katana from your father's storage unit on the way out and bolted.

After running for a while, you found a small city. It was called Junipo City. The population was small and the poverty level was high. You were homeless for a while. You slept in an ally way behind the city's supermarket, and that's where he found you. Giichi.

When you first saw Giichi, you thought that he was very handsome. Just looking at his slick back black hair and green eyes made your heart do a little jump in your chest. However, it was his smile that pulled you in. There was something so friendly, so inviting about it. How naive you were then...

He acquainted himself with you and started dropping off food to you for about two weeks. After those two weeks, he convinced you to stay with him in a shelter that he lived in and worked in. He gave you your first set of new clothes in nine years, a place to sleep and food to eat. He took care of you, and for the first time since you escaped, you felt like maybe you didn't have to do things alone.

For the next two months, things were perfect. Giichi showed you all over town during the day. At night, he would bring you hot chocolate before you went to bed. You loved watching him play with all of the other kids and talk with the elderly at the shelter. Sometimes, late at night, you found the courage to confide in him. You told him about your past and all of your fears. Your heart began to flutter madly in your chest whenever he walked into the room. You thought that maybe, everything would be okay, maybe he even liked you too...

But after everything that happened tonight, you found yourself back in square one, alone again.

He had asked you if you had any career plans for the future.

"Hmm," you thought as your feet swung back and forth over the side of your cot, "I was thinking that maybe I could become a Hunter. I'm hoping to take the next exam. I think that my experience with nen and my katana gives me a good chance of passing the exam," you replied sheepishly.

"The next exam?" Giichi asked sorrowfully.

"Yeah," you smiled, "is there something wrong?"

Giichi smiled and shook his head, taking his seat on his cot across from yours.

"There's nothing wrong with that, of course. I'm really happy for you. It's just that...I'm really sad to see you go so soon. The Hunter exam is next week after all."

He looked back up at you. His sorrowful sage meeting your (y/e/c) ones. There was something in his look that made your heart soar...

"Giichi, I-"

He leaned in closer to you from his cot and tucked a piece of hair behind your ear. Almost immediately you felt heat rise to your cheeks. He's so close...

"(Y/N)...I was going to wait to tell you this, but since you're leaving I have no choice but to tell you now," a mischievous smile found its way onto his face, "I really like you, (y/n). I have since the moment I met you. You're beautiful and strong. It really makes me sad that you're leaving before we had the chance to become something more than friends..."

Something more than friends? You had never thought about being more than friends with someone other than your soulmate...and even when you did think about that you figured that would be happening way down the line. Right now, you're free and you're allowed to finally make choices for yourself.

The first words of your soulmate burned angrily against the skin of your collarbone.

Could you pursue this, soulmate aside? No...no you couldn't. You were going to become a Hunter. You were going to make money and explore the world. Maybe along the way, you'd meet people and you'd get to finally use your power safely for people you care about...For now, though, you didn't have room for a relationship, despite what you felt for Giichi.

"Giich-"

Before you could tell him how you felt, he placed his hands on your cheeks and pressed his lips to yours.

You were completely frozen. Your eyes wide open in shock and your heart pounding against your chest. This was your first kiss. Before you could even process that thought it was over, and your soulmate mark was on fire.

He was there, lingering dejectedly in the corner of your mind. Feelings of jealousy, betrayal, and finally something passive washed over him in your head. And then he was gone. He shut himself out almost faster than your kiss.

Giichi pulled away from you, "After you get your Hunter license, will you come here and show me?"

You nodded your head slowly, your fingers playing with your tingling lips, "S-Sure."

He smirked and patted your head before walking away, "Get some sleep, (y/n). Goodnight."

Sleeping was the last thing you did. You laid awake in your cot, your soulmate mark throbbing against your collarbone. After about an hour of tossing and turning, you decided to get up and get some water, walking on your tiptoes to avoid waking the other sleeping children in the cots around you.

You were almost to the kitchen when you heard Giichi talking on the phone in his office.

"...uh-huh, yeah...She should be back from her Hunter Exam in two weeks, I'm guessing... Yeah...You can pay me and take her at the same time I guess, no need to make two trips... trust me, she'll definitely be back..."

You rocked on your feet outside of his office, almost losing your balance at the same time. He tried to trick you...he tried to gain your trust and sell you...To who though? Your father? A third party that knew about your power? That didn't matter, right now you had to get away and lay low.

You ran back to your cot and took the few things that you owned. You pulled on your black hoodie and pulled the strap of your Katana case over your chest and let your katana rest on your back. From there, you crept out of the back doors and ran into the night.

Your feet slowed to a stop as you reached the bus stop. A bus was there loading passengers so you immersed yourself into the line, pulling your hoodie over your face.

You took a seat alone at the back of the bus, the rain pattering angrily against the window and the wind rattling the bus.

You can do this alone, (y/n). Don't be afraid, you have to lay low for a little while.

You took a deep breath and shut your eyes. Regret weighed heavily on your heart and you tried to push these thoughts to your soulmate but you were met with silence.

The intercom on the bus buzzed to life, "Next stop: Yorknew City."

[outofangband]

Masterlist/Explanation of the Dark Arafinwë verse

Other masterlists

Next

Maedhros is attending a formal event near Alqualondë and is accosted by another elf. Unable to wrangle the truth from the ages of pre-existing biases and feuds, Teleri wardens arrest both the accoster and Maedhros who finds himself fighting against his own memories. When, to his very great surprise, Arafinwë himself intervenes on his behalf, Maedhros is brought back to the palace to be kept under supervision until the matter is investigated. (More details at the end notes)

CW: forced stripping (non sexual), abuse of power, callous disregard of past trauma/exploiting trauma responses, dissociation, gaslighting 

Edit: I’ve had some people tell me that the gaslighting in this story is very difficult to read so I wanted to give an extra warning for that element

Tag list: @iwenttomordor @elarinya-nailo @mozart-the-meerkitten @tears-and-lilies @much-ado-about-whumping 

“Strip.”

There was no malice in the command, simply an almost weary calm. Nelyafinwë was aware of his own eyes widening just as a sense of unreality came over him. The soft warmth of the evening felt suddenly oppressive and the clean and comfortable room he had been lead into twisted and distorted. He took a step backwards and his half uncle raised an eyebrow.

“I know you carry weapons upon thy person, Russandol. For rather obvious reasons I cannot allow you to keep them.”

The room did not come back into focus but Maitimo gave a small sigh, apprehension as much as relief. He raised one booted foot and undid the laces, pulling out a small blade and handing it over to Arafinwë who pocketed it with a small nod of acknowledgment. Maitimo then undid the other boot to show there was nothing in it.

Arafinwë looked impassively at the other elf, fingers pressed together at his chest.

“It would not be very prudent to simply take thy word, Russandol. Remove the rest, I will give you something to wear.” Maedhros’s gaze traveled to his face, his own expression of startled disbelief. He waited for a few moments for Arafinwë to leave or turn away. Arafinwë does not. 

Maitimo swallowed, aware of the tingling, almost trembling in his arms or legs. He started on the buttons on his tunic so it fell into two sides, revealing the scars on his chest. Including the numerous iterations of kinslayer carved or tattooed into his flesh. He winced as he thought about this, not wishing to force Arafinwë to view another reminder of what had happened here so many years ago.

But he handed the tunic over over. Arafinwë set it and his boots on the bed, more of an examination table than for rest. He gestures for Maitimo to continue when the Noldor prince pauses again. Next come the trousers, slightly scuffed from the altercation that had landed him here in the first place. The heat rises to his ears and he can no longer maintain any sort of eye contact, directing his gaze to the floor instead.

Maitimo procrastinates pulling off his leggings until Arafinwë makes a soft sound of impatience, jarring him back to the present. The present where he is standing almost completely naked in front of the king of the Noldor in Valinor.

“I was there when Angamando fell and I have worked as a healer. I know you are scarred. Please remove the rest.”  

Maitimo hands over the last of his clothes and finally Arafinwë looks away from him, gathering up his leggings, tunic, trousers and boots along with his jewelry. 

“Stay here, Russandol. I will bring these to my guard to examine.” He starts towards the door.

Out of the corner of his eyes, Maitimo sees that the beaded bracelet Rôg had crafted for him is visible in the pocket of his trousers. He longs to hold it, to rub the smooth stone between his fingers as he does when the memories of the past intrude so vividly into the present.

“Lord Arafinwë?” He starts to say but the look on his half uncle’s face, that same impassive, cool interest, prevents any more words from leaving him and he merely shakes his head and waits as the other leaves.

...

Arafinwë returns nearly half of an hour later and Maitimo has not dared to move, even to try and cover himself. Loathe as he is to admit it to himself, any scolding or reprimand he might receive is likely worse than the shame of being so exposed. The door is closed, perhaps it was locked. 

The king moves past him to take up his previous position. His expression has not changed. 

“I am afraid you will have to be restrained for the night, Russandol. I do not have guards to spare.” Maedhros looks up at him, his heartrate spiking again. 

“I do not need to be restrained, My Lord” he says slowly, carefully, “I am hardly going to attack you nor anyone else, naked and with no weapon.” 

Arafinwë studies him. “I have absolutely no idea whether or not you will attack another should you become frightened or angry. I cannot afford the possibility that you enter such a state and harm someone. Lay down,” he gestures to the narrow bed before continuing, “This is a process that would typically be done by our wardens. Are you not grateful you are not suffering this under the hands of strangers?” 

Maitimo was more acutely aware than ever of his nakedness as he took the few steps forward and lay down on his stomach. He hears rather than sees Arafinwë come to his right side, using a strap made of a soft leather to fasten his hands down. He urges himself silently to breathe through his nose, to remain calm. By the time his ankles were also strapped down, he had to actively count his breaths to keep them steady.

“Open your mouth.” This next command is spoken as calmly, coolly as the others, it is only Maitimo who is experiencing the dizzying panic. He doesn’t obey this time. Arafinwë approaches him again, kneeling beside his head and holding out what seem to be more of the leather straps. 

 “Your teeth are a weapon, Russandol,” now there is something like sarcasm, mocking in the king’s voice, Maitimo is sure of it.

 (Is he sure?)

“You can hardly be surprised that you are not trusted here. Do you not understand I have made this process significantly better for you? Open your mouth. This will not hurt you and it is only until the morrow.” 

Maedhros tastes cleaned leather as something is forced into his mouth, preventing him from moving his tongue. More straps are fixed around his head. Arafinwë is careful to keep his hair out of the way of them so it does not become caught or tangled. But the parts that press against his face irritate the old scars made when less considerate hands strapped similar devices over him. 

Finally, Arafinwë takes a step back. Maedhros’s shallow breathing is softened slightly by the piece in his mouth. 

“Good. Get some rest, Russandol. I will check on you in the morning.”

To be continued

Author’s note: This type of gaslighting used both implicitly and explicitly throughout here, the “no, of course there’s nothing sinister about me doing these things, that’s just how you’re interpreting them because of Angband and it’s really offensive of you to compare me to the Dark Lord” is incredibly insidious and makes me really angry! Unfortunately it will only get worse from here. 

Author’s note: Maedhros was caught off guard here and his shock as well as his guilt is used to manipulate him into thinking this is legitimate procedure however he soon starts to understand more how dangerous Arafinwë and please know that he becomes an absolute nightmare to hold hostage. Or well he’s not currently a hostage but he’s soon to be

There is more about why Ara is doing this linked in the AU masterlist and more will become known as the story progresses! 

More backstory here:

Maedhros is attending a formal event near Alqualondë and is accosted by another elf. Unable to wrangle the truth from the ages of pre-existing biases and feuds, Teleri soldiers arrest both the accoster and Maedhros who finds himself fighting against unpleasant memories of being confined and restrained.  He’s alone in his cell, trying not to flinch whenever a guard comes by and alternating rapidly between the instinct to fight and scream and lash out and the instinct to hide and be subdued. He sees the guards stop and bow and he stands and walks to the door and sees Arafinwë. To his astonishment, he’s told that Arafinwë has agreed to have him released into his custody. He can’t leave the city for a few days, at least not until the matter gets sorted out. Maedhros starts to refuse just on instinct, saying it’s not necessary, etc. Arafinwë looks loftily at him.

“Do not speak foolishness, Russandol. Come with me.” And the guards unlock the door and nod to him and he can’t exactly insist on staying in prison especially because he is actually innocent in this encounter so he agrees reluctantly and follows Arafinwë to his carriage.

[chokemeanakin]

Aggressive Negotiations (part 2)- Anakin Skywalker x fem Reader

Masterlist

Read it on ao3

Wc: 2.6k

You woke up with a gasp, legs scrambling to push yourself into a standing position, but something weighed you down. It was pitch black, and as you kicked your legs out your heels hit wall. Something warm was pressed against your back. 

“You’re awake,” not something— someone. “How do you feel? Are you okay? Did he do anything to you?”

“Anakin—“ you tugged at your arms, which were uncomfortably twisted behind you, bound by cuffs that held Anakin as well. “Where are we?”

“Well, if I had to guess, we’re in a prison cell.”

“This is kind of small for a prison cell, isn’t it?”

“There are two of us in here.”

You blinked hard, trying to peer through the layers of darkness. The sudden weight of your situation began to crash down on you.

“I’m so--”

“You’re not.”

“I should have known--”

“How could you have?”

“He tricked me!”

“He tricked us both.”

You groaned, hanging your head in despair. What a fool. You’d walked right into his trap! He put something in your drink, and all the while you thought you had the upper hand. Stupid, stupid, stupid.

“Hey,” Anakin’s voice was softer. “Are you okay, though? He didn’t do anything to you, right?”

“No, we didn’t even make it to his room,” you mumbled. You felt him release a breath that he was holding, his shoulders relaxing against your back. Had he been drugged, too? You couldn’t recall him ever taking a drink from the champagne the Prince handed him.  “Anakin, how’d you end up here, anyway?”

He grunted unhappily, shifting his position ever so slightly. “The Prince came back to the ball without you, so I went up and asked him where you were. He took out a blaster and pointed it at me-- I could have handled that easily, if it weren’t for the fact that suddenly every single person in that room also had a blaster trained on me. I was forced to surrender.”

“You surrendered?” you couldn’t help but laugh, imagining the look on his face as he let the scrawnier Prince cuff him and lead him away. “Now that’s got to be a blow to your ego.”

“You really want to bicker with me right now?”

“I don’t see much else to do,” you stretched your leg out as much as you could, hitting wall halfway. “You’re not claustrophobic, are you?”

“No. You?”

“Slightly.”

His fists tightened in the cuffs behind him. “I’ll get us out of here.”

“Calm down, Hercules. We’re in this together-- literally. You don’t have to handle it by yourself.” You paused to smile to yourself in the dark. “Besides, I have a plan.”

...

“It’s to the left more. No, the other left. My left, your right.”

Anakin was sifting through your hair with the force, looking for the pin you had used to keep your hair back. However, the problem with being in the complete dark and facing away from each other was that locating said pin was harder than expected.

“A little up. Too far,” you tilted your head, trying to shift the gentle sensation down to where the pin was. 

“Got it,” he pulled the pin, causing your hair to fall into your face. “Sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it, just get us out of these handcuffs.”

You waited patiently as he stuck the pin into the keyhole of the handcuffs, twisting it this way and that, searching for the divet that would unlock the mechanisms. Your legs were beginning to ache at the position they were stuck in, back cramping from being hunched over for so long. You couldn’t even imagine how Anakin was feeling. 

The click of a set of cuffs releasing was like music to your ears. The metal loosened from your left hand, and you shook it off. The cuff on your right hand still dug into the flesh of your wrist.

“Good news and bad news,” Anakin told you as he plucked the pin from the air and handed it back to you. “The good news is that the cuffs are locked on one side only, which is why we each have one side free. The bad news is that the other side locks electromagnetically, meaning we need to find the nerfherder who has the pulse signal in order to get out of these.”

“Who’s the jackass that came up with that idea?” you whined.

“It’s actually a pretty clever mechanism. Especially for detaining pairs, like us, who might work together and get out.”

Of course he’d be finding the genius in this situation. 

“Right… well I guess having one hand free is better than none.”

“That’s the spirit, Y/n.”

You rolled your eyes, smiling at his dumb banter. “Okay, now that that’s done, on to phase two.”

Your heels collided with the wall before you over and over, the bangs echoing around the tiny chamber you were in. Your shins rattled and knees ached, but you kept up with it. There was muttering outside, and just as you’d hoped, a tiny slit of light soon entered the chamber.

“My orders are to keep you quiet,” the glowing eyes were blinding as they provided the first light you had seen in hours. You forced yourself to look into them.

“I have to go to the bathroom.”

“You are unable to do that at this time.”

The eyes disappeared, and you were cast back into darkness. You began kicking at the wall again.

“Y/n,” Anakin hissed. “This isn’t going to work, that’s a droid.”

“Do mind tricks not work on droids?”

“No.”

“Oh…” your kicking paused. Anakin sighed. 

“Nevermind that. Switch places with me.” You began shifting so that he could take your spot, no doubt dirtying your dress to the point of no return. You sent a silent apology to Padme-- she’d understand.

You had just gotten situated in your new positions when the eyes returned at the slit of the door. 

“I said, you are unable to leave at this time. Please remain quiet--”

There was a loud crack as the droid’s body collided with the door, sprinkling bolts and spare parts all over the ground. The glowing eyes flickered out, but the slit in the door remained open. Anakin let go of the droids now broken body using the force, and began to search the ground for the key for the door.

“Elegant tactic,” you remarked. He chuckled breathily, focused on reaching his senses past the door.

“You know I like to keep it classy.”

His breathing became slow and even, and you didn’t have to be able to see to know his eyes were closed, that adorable look of concentration on his face that he got every time he did something strenuous with the force. You were so calmed by the steady rise and fall of his body against your back that the abrupt click and groan of the door opening made you jump.

“You falling asleep back there?”

“‘Course not,” you shielded your eyes from the sudden onslaught of light with your free arm, the one still attached to Anakin being tugged up as he stood. 

You were being kept in some sort of underground dungeon, the air thick and moist and walls glowing purple with the lighting globes. 

“That droid didn’t happen to have a pulse signal, did it?”

“Unfortunately, no,” Anakin kicked a stray bolt with his boot. He turned to shoot you a lopsided smile. “That’s alright though, I think you’ll find I’m a pleasant person to be handcuffed to.”

“How many people can testify to that?” you wandered. It didn’t surprise you that he had been in a position like this before. 

“Have I ever told you of that time I was handcuffed to Obi-Wan and Count Dooku at the same time? Now that was something.”

Anakin inched out of the cell, peering down the hallway left and right. When he saw the coast was clear, he pulled you out with him. You and Anakin worked like a well-oiled machine, ducking behind crates and barrels as you made your way to the stairs, counting the seconds it took for one security droid to appear and then leave again before sneaking your way to the next point.

You made it to the stairs without incident, but it was only on the ascent did you run into trouble.

“Anakin, wait--” you stumbled over a step, barely catching yourself on his shoulder. “My dress, it’s too long.”

You bent down to rip the hem off, but he beat you to it, his gloved fingers tearing the red fabric away so that your legs were free. The strength of his arm never seized to amaze you, although it was disappointing that in this situation, the material of your handcuffs were resistant to it’s uncanny crushing abilities. 

“Thanks,” you caught the fabric and wrapped it around your wrist a few times, beginning your ascent again. As soon as you reached the halls of the palace, you knew this would be more difficult than you had expected. There were patrols travelling in pairs at each beginning and end of the halls, and there was no way you’d be able to sneak into the Prince’s master chamber at the end of the hall.

“I hate to be the one to rush into things headfirst,” Anakin smirked at you, a twinkle in his eyes. “But I say we run for it.”

You shoved your fist into your mouth to keep from laughing. It was amazing how Anakin could ease your nerves so easily, even in a situation like this. Your heart swelled for the man beside you, and you nodded in agreement. You trusted him with your life. 

Slipping your shoes off, you kept one steady under your knee as you ripped the heel off. Your knife had been taken from you when you woke up in the cell-- just as they had taken Anakin’s lightsaber-- and now at least you had some sort of weapon.

“Keeping it classy,” you echo his earlier words, loving the way he bit his lip as he watched you. 

“You’re coming to my room as soon as we get out of here.”

Your body filled with a giddy warmth at his proposal.

“Alright, on the count of three. Ready?”

You and Anakin took off into the center of the grand hall. You were fast, but his legs were longer, and he took the lead and zig-zagged you through blaster shots coming your way. Dust and rubble fell from the pillars and into your eyes, but you blinked the sting away and kept up, slipping and sliding across the floor. 

There was a lull in the firing as the guards reloaded their blasters, and Anakin took the chance to pull you to a halt, squeezing his eyes closed and opening his palm toward the sky. There was a shutter beneath your feet, and his hand closed into a fist before pushing out. Every guard in a 360 degree radius flew back, knocking into pillars and crashing into walls.

“Let’s move!” Anakin didn’t even hesitate before pulling you forward again. Soon, you made it to the outside of the master chamber.

“Is he in there?”

“Cowering like a baby,” Anakin punched a hole through the wooden door with his metal fist, the thick oak splintering away. He reached through and unlocked the door from the inside, revealing the Prince huddled in a corner, blaster hugged to his chest. You surged forward, ducking as he fired a shot at you once, and then twice. You were close to slapping his blaster out of his hands, when suddenly you were yanked back.

“What are you doing?” you shot at Anakin.

“A pulse signal,” he reached for the mantle, calling the hidden device to him. He pressed the button as soon as it fell into his palm, and the cuffs linking you together fell to the ground. The Prince fired at you again, but Anakin deflected it with a shield that he had ripped off the wall. He moved toward the Prince, but you held him back with a hand to his chest.

“He’s mine.”

The Prince’s hold on the blaster was feeble. Obviously, no one taught him how to handle one. You knocked it out with a punch to the wrist, and caught it before it could hit the ground. He scrambled to his feet, but you used your sharpened heel to dig his jacket into the wall, pinning him in place. Then, you placed the cuffs Anakin kicked your way over his hands, locking him up before tying the fabric of your dress over his eyes.

When you were all done, you punched him in the jaw. 

“Where is Count Dooku?” you demanded.

“Gaah,” the Prince groaned, testing his jaw. “I don’t know. Not here.”

“You’re lying,” you pressed the blaster into his chest so he could feel it. “I’m not going to ask you again. Where is he?”

“He left as soon as you got out. Said I failed, and that working with me was a waste of time.”

“That sounds like Count Dooku, alright,” Anakin remarked behind you, where he was keeping watch by the door. “He has a habit of running away when things get dicey.”

“What was your business with him?” you continued. “How did he convince you to work with the Separatists?”

“He didn’t. Krygo joined the Separatists at the beginning of the war. The Republic never bothered to check on us, which was why it was so easy to hide our allegiance and convince them we needed their help.”

“What was the point of all this then?”

“The point was to get rid of Anakin,” he turned his head toward the door, where he was standing. “Dooku wanted to get rid of you once and for all, and the plan almost worked.”

Anakin laughed humorlessly, knocking the Prince’s head back into the wall hard with a flick of his wrist. “Barely.”

He groaned again, blood trickling out of the corner of his mouth where you punched him.

“I’ll call off my people,” he promised. “Just let me go.” 

“Do it now,” you wrenched the heel out of the wall, freeing him so that you could drag him to his feet and over to his vanity. There, his comlink sat, beeping green with unread messages. You grabbed it and held the speaker to his mouth, the blaster now pressed against his temple in case he tried anything. “Speak.”

“Soldiers, put your weapons down. Let the hostages go,” you pressed the gun further into his head. “A-and, pull up a ship for them. The Grand Maroney. Anyone who stands in their way should be executed.”

You nudged him once more. “And give the Jedi back his lightsaber.”

After he was done, you dropped the comlink to the floor and shot it with the blaster. You didn’t want him changing his mind when you left. 

Anakin held the door open for you as you walked out, looking back to give the broken Prince one last promise:

“You’ll pay for all of this.”

...

Anakin held your thighs to his shoulders as he walked up the ramp of the Grand Maroney, the transport ship that was directed right outside the palace doors for you. You gently dug your fingers into his hair, holding on to steady yourself. Your feet had been hurting something awful after everything was said and done, so Anakin insisted in carrying you back to the ship. Who were you to pass up that kind of offer? 

“Revenge is not the Jedi way, you know,” he told you as he lowered you into the passenger seat. He took his own place at the pilot station, lifting the ship into the air and putting in the coordinates to go home. 

“Good thing I’m not a Jedi.”

[thran-duils]

Doll Me Up (P.9)

Title: Doll Me Up (Part Nine) Summary: Fem!Reader x Dark Mob!Tony Stark. On good days, you and Tony were a power couple. You, a perfect trophy wife with your hands in local charities to promote a wholesome image. Tony, business man but sullied with organized crime. He indulged in his illegal gambling, extortion, and political corruption. And he indulged in his escort business. Hell, that is where he had found you. You were a brat, and he loved a challenge. Words: 2,991 Warnings: Unhealthy relationships, smut, daddy kink, dom/sub, manipulation, death, violence, possessive behavior, drug use

Author’s Note: I apologize if the tags haven’t been working. I was using the new beta editor but I’ve switched back to traditional! BTW, I think I am coming up to the close on the fic soon! Just a head’s up.

Part Eight || Part Ten || Masterpost (mobile) || Fanfic masterpost

~A month ago…

You heard someone walk into the living room and you peeked out from your cocoon of blankets you had set up for yourself, curled up on the couch, watching tv. Happy cocked an eyebrow seeing you, his eyes running over the seltzer water and all the blankets.

“Are you okay?” he questioned.

“I don’t feel great,” you said, taking another sip of your water. You wished Tony was home, but he had gone on a business trip. Happy had stayed behind to keep an eye on you. Tony trusted him more than any of his other men to make sure you were kept safe in his absence.

“Do you need to go to the doctor?” Happy asked concerned.

You shrugged, “I’m just nauseous. I don’t think it’s anything serious. I might have eaten something bad.”

Happy did not look convinced. “Tell me if it gets worse. And I’ll get you an appointment.”

Nodding, you picked your water back up and took another drink, hoping the carbonation would help settle your stomach. You did not even bother to tell Tony later around dinner time when he called to check in, brushing it off.

It subsided later in the day and you thought you were in the clear until the next morning – very early, 4:00am – it hit again. Groaning, you could not ignore the swirling and you got out of bed, rubbing at your eyes.

FRIDAY set on the baseboard lights as you walked downstairs to guide your way.

You opened the bag of bread and took a slice out, stuffing it into your mouth as you closed the bag back up. Taking a large bite, you chewed slowly. Maybe you were having acid reflux and the bread would help soak it up.

You meandered, swallowing the first bite, as you approached the door to the patio. You laid your hand on it and it unlocked for you. Stepping outside, you inhaled the fresh air deeply. That made you feel slightly better.

<><><>

In Berlin, Tony’s watch beeped. He looked away from the table where he was having a late lunch with a fellow boss and their crew that was helping him secure capital in the city. FRIDAY was alerting him that Y/N had activated the system to go outside. His face screwed up in confusion, calculating quickly what time it was back home in Malibu. It would be a little after 4:25am.

“Excuse me, would you?” Tony asked and the other boss nodded, taking a drink of their beer. Tony slipped his tablet out of his bag as he left the table.

Walking away from the table, he moved towards the balcony overlooking the city. Holding the tablet up, he accessed the cameras at home, pulling up the outside cameras since she had left to the patio. He was on edge, wondering what the hell she was doing outside so early.

She was just sitting in one of the chairs, eating a piece of bread, which only served to confuse him more. But at least she was there; she had not run off.

He watched her for a few moments before movement by the door caught his eye and he saw Happy step outside.

“Good man,” Tony said under his breath, knowing FRIDAY would have alerted Happy too in the guest room he was in per Tony’s programming. He would have been severely disappointed if Happy had not come outside to check on her.

The two of them were speaking and Tony did not miss the concerned look on Happy’s face.

Suddenly, Y/N jerked forward, vomiting all over the cement, barely missing Happy’s slippers much to Tony’s shock. Was she hung over? That would explain the bread.

Happy came closer and his hand came to her back, steadying her as she leaned over the side of the chair. He was speaking quickly to her and she shook her head, and he shook his right back at her. Tony watched Happy settle her back and hold up a hand to her, before he went back towards the door, leaving her out there.

When he came back out, he had some napkins and some water. She shook her head at the water and he forced it towards her.

“Looks like someone had a little too much fun last night,” Tony said to himself before closing the camera. He had no further reason to be concerned about it; it looked like Happy had it perfectly under control.

Which is why when he had just got sat back down at the table, his cell phone started to ring. The other boss laughed at his expense, making a comment about him being a busy man. Tony apologized and checked his watch, seeing it was Happy. He excused himself again quickly and got up.

“What?” Tony asked. “I just got sat down at the table.”

“I’m gonna make an appointment for Y/N. Where do you want her to go?” Happy cut in immediately.

“What? What for?”

“She doesn’t feel good.”

“Yeah, I saw. Got a good view of that vomit. How much did she have to drink last night?”

“Nothing. She didn’t drink anything,” Happy told him, surprising Tony. “She didn’t feel well yesterday either and I told her to tell me if it got worse. Did she tell you when she spoke to you on the phone last night?”

“No. What do you mean she’s not feeling well?”

“Nausea she said. Maybe she has a stomach bug, I don’t know. But food poisoning doesn’t generally last two days.”

Tony rubbed his forehead and sighed. “Um, just take her to my guy. She’s on my insurance plan. She’s been to him before.”

“Not the ER?”

“You think it’s an ER type of situation?”

“I’m not sure. I mean, throwing up usually isn’t an ER thing but I don’t know.”

“Did she throw up yesterday?”

“No, not that I know of.”

“No other symptoms?”

“No.”

“Hmm,” Tony said to himself more than anything. He pondered on it and tapped the railing as he weighed the options. Something came to him then and he straightened up. A smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth as he thought more about it.

“Boss?”

Shaking his head, Tony cleared his throat, “You know, no. On second thought, no. No doctor or ER.”

“Wait, what?”

“I’m heading back tonight. You know, if she starts showing other symptoms, take her to the doctor. My guy. But I think she’ll be fine.”

Happy said slowly, “Um, alright…”

“Morning sickness, Hap. Not to get too excited about it yet but… fits the bill.”

“Oh,” Happy said and Tony could hear the realization peaking in his voice. “Right.”

“So, just keep an eye on her. I’ll be on the plane soon and then I’ll just stop on the way home at the pharmacy. Get a test,” Tony said, feeling lighter about the situation. “Order her some 7-Up or something, soups. Just keep her comfortable for me, yeah?”

“You got it,” Happy confirmed.

<><><>

“We have lunch plans, but Tony is taking forever,” you told Steve as the two of you boarded the elevator to go down further into the building.

Anticipation was nipping at your heels; you had not explored this part of the building yet. Steve had come to speak to Tony but when he was told by Angelica that Tony was busy, he was quick to brush off needing to see him. He just needed to go downstairs to pick something up. You had practically thrown down the magazine you were pretending to read, asking if you could come with. He had been polite and courteous, telling you he would love the company. Angelica looked like she wanted to say something, but you purposely ignored her, walking by and following Steve.

“Oh? Where are you going for lunch?” Steve asked interested.

“This place Pepper suggested. Mario’s. Up in the Bronx.”

“Never been.”

“I trust her opinion. She seems to know what she’s talking about.”

“That she does,” Steve smiled back.

“What are you doing here though?” you inquired, switching gears.

“I need another set of batteries for one of my weapons.”

“You couldn’t go to the store?” you asked confused.

Steve chuckled, throwing you an amused look. “No, they’re special batteries.”

“Oh…”

Steve immediately noticed your embarrassment and he quickly said, ���Not like you would know that. That’s something I would think too. But the batteries are special. What you said was logical.”

Logical. Not an adjective you heard attributed to you often. Maybe never.

The elevator door opened, and you hesitated seeing the men standing guard outside it but Steve strode out, unperturbed by them. You followed him, catching up to his long strides.

“Why did you want to come down here though besides Tony taking too long?” Steve asked, eyeing you curiously as the pair of you walked.

“One, I was bored as you can imagine, waiting for him to finish whatever he was doing. And two, Tony didn’t let me see anything except his office or the boardroom since I’ve been here. Said it wasn’t important for me to see it. But I want to.”

“Hmm,” Steve said shooting you a look. “You think you should be down here then?”

“I don’t see why not. I can keep secrets well enough if that’s what everyone is worried about.”

Steve’s lips curled into a soft smile at that, his eyes running over you.

You were taking in all the people working, the technology they were using. It was like the garage back home where Tony worked but far, far more busy. It was a little overwhelming.

Steve was nodding at random people who greeted him in awe. He came to a stop in front of someone though standing behind a desk.

She looked up and smiled, recognizing him on sight. “That was quick, Cap.” He eyes turned to you and she faltered, “And…”

“Y/N. Tony’s wife,” Steve introduced you.

“Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t recognize you,” she apologized immediately. You took note that her bade said her name was Eva.

“How could you have? I’ve never been down here before,” you said, giving her a small reassuring smile.

She relaxed at your calm demeanor and turned to grab something off the desk behind her. Handing it to Steve, she told him, “So, there’s backups in there too so you don’t need to make another trip so soon.”

“Nice, that’s thoughtful. Thank you,” Steve commented.

“You’re going to want to update your system though. I’ll send you a link to do so on the secure network,” Eva went on explaining.

“Alright, I’ll figure it out.” Steve looked at you and said sheepishly, “Tech isn’t my strong point. I have gotten better though, so there’s hope.”

“I can’t keep up with Tony sometimes and I’ve been around technology my whole life. I mean, my whole house is a giant computer essentially,” you responded. “Could not even begin to explain to you how it works.”

“It’s complicated but it’s helpful right?” Eva asked lightheartedly. You nodded and she said, “I’ll be the first to admit I wouldn’t be able to keep up with how Mr. Stark talks about tech either. Could not even begin to fathom how his brain works. I swear he’s not speaking English sometimes when he’s giving presentations.”

You snorted, as did Steve. “I can attest to that,” Steve agreed. “I just let him lead when it comes to this type of stuff.”

You could relate to that. You let Tony lead in pretty much every facet.

“Same. It’s just easier to stand behind him,” you said. Steve’s brow creased at your comment and you suddenly felt uncomfortable. Trying to draw attention away from it, you gestured at the box. “May I?”

“Oh, yeah,” Steve said, handing it over to you.

You opened the box and touched the odd shaped metal. “Definitely doesn’t look like normal batteries.”

“Nope,” Eva agreed.

Steve was looking at you with purpose when you handed the box back to him. His gaze slid to Eva and he asked, “Do you have some time?”

“For what, Mr. Rogers?”

“A small tour. Mrs. Stark hasn’t been able to see around the building because Tony has been busy, and a little explanation of some things down here might scratch her itch?” Steve looked at you for approval. “I mean, if you want that, of course.”

Excitement flared up and you nodded, “Yeah. I probably have time. Especially if there’s things to look at that won’t put me in a ‘we can show you but then we will have to kill you’ type of spot.”

Eva laughed at that. “There’s some of that available, yes.” She gestured past the desk behind her. “Shall we?”

Steve held out his arm to you and you took it appreciatively.

Eva started at a microchip, explaining it had the startings of being able to upload a personality to a robot to mimic a sentient being.

“So, like Vision?” you asked.

“Yes. Like Vision. But definitely nowhere near as advanced or powerful as he is. This is… it would be like a bodyguard for example?”

“A nanny for the baby when you need a break?” Steve joked quietly into your ear. You looked at him perplexed at the admission he knew and his smile fell. “Sorry, I didn’t mean—Tony told the team. I’m sorry if it was still supposed to be a secret?”

You waved it off quickly. “It’s fine. It’s you guys he told. You’re not nobodies.”

Though you did dislike that Tony was being so free with the information. You were only about two months along. He was getting too excited about it too soon whereas you were worried, your pessimism getting the better of you.

“And I’m sure I’ll need a break,” you joked back to Steve and he relaxed as the two of you followed Eva, her pointing things out that she could share.

You were so engrossed in what she was saying you only saw Tony’s reflection in the glass wall behind her at the last second.

You turned your head quickly and said innocently, “You’re done upstairs, then?”

“Rogers,” Tony said tightly, his eyes shooting to your arms intertwined before snapping back to Steve’s face. He looked very suspicious; you knew that look. Jealousy.

“Tony,” Steve returned, and he gracefully let your arm fall. He held up the box, “Thanks for the battery replacement. And the reminder to come grab it. I definitely would have forgotten without it.”

Tony by stepped his last comments. “Can I speak to you for a moment?”

“Sure,” Steve said, tossing Eva a look. He held up the box to her now and said, “Thanks for being so prompt with this. It was helpful. And thanks for the walk.”

<><><>

When they were out of earshot, Tony told him firmly in hushed tones, “I’m not sure why you thought it was appropriate but don’t bring Y/N down here in the future.”

“Sorry, I didn’t know she wasn’t allowed until we were already down here,” Steve said and he saw Tony frown deeply. “She did say you didn’t wanna show her around the building after we came down here and I did ask if she thought she should be down here at all. Figured to just keep her close until we went back upstairs.”

“No, she shouldn’t be down here. I don’t want her knowing anything. Puts her at risk, knowledge. Kidnappings and whatnot.”

“I think being married to you, Tony, is what puts her at risk for that.”

Tony’s closed lipped smile did not reach his eyes; he was not amused with Steve’s quip.

“Regardless, for the future, don’t let the curiosity kill the cat. She’s better off naïve about it. Even if she’s learning on the arm of America’s golden boy.”

Silence ate away at the two of them for a few moments before Steve shrugged, relenting. He said stoically, “Understood.”

“Good,” Tony clipped. “Now if you’ll excuse me, my wife and I have lunch plans and I fear I’ve kept her waiting for far too long.”

Steve shook his head as soon as Tony brushed past him, leaving him by the elevator.

<><><>

You had thanked Eva before telling her she should probably go back to work now that the boss was in the room. She picked up on your joke but did it all the same. You paced slowly, watching carefully as Tony spoke with Steve. They were both tense and you sighed, knowing he was likely cursing Steve for assisting you down here. He really did not want you to know anything about most of his work whether it be here or out on the streets or in the political arena.

He came back to you and you gave him a smile, that he did not return.

“What were you doing down here?” he asked tightly, his hand coming to the small of your back and directing you back towards the elevator where he had left Steve who had already gone back up.

“Looking around,” you told him. “I was bored.”

“Do you not remember me telling you to not go poking around?”

“Yes, but I was curious.”

“It would make me happy if you would listen to me,” Tony said, nodding at one of his workers as he passed. “Don’t you wanna make me happy, kitten?”

“85 percent of the time,” you quipped, trying to get him to smile. But he still did not and your own slowly melted away as he responded.

“I think that sounds about right.”

There was something off about him, but you could not figure out what. You elected to stay quiet the rest of the stride to the elevator. He pressed the button to the elevator to come back down, his fingers on his other hand drawing lazy circles on the small of your back. Every so often though, his fingers dug in slightly and you did your best to not flinch away.

~~~

Forever tags: @coconutqueen21, @undecidedsworld

Fic tags: @kvzctam @farihafangirls, @teenageregression @mrsnegan25 @lilacs-lavender @agustdowney @kind-of-crazy-butthatsokay @emmariexx

[minniepetals]

Rose & Thorns: 04

— summary: a lone rose, a little broken, until Jungkook came along and the two of you saved each other. and in doing so, Jungkook showed you a world where he shared with his six other mates.

— pairing: dragon!jungkook x reader x dragon!seokjin / future!bts x reader

— genre: angst / poly!au / fantasy!au / dragon!au

— word count: 5.5k

— warnings: orphan reader, high fever, insecurities, hurt and comfort

╰ part 1 / part 2 / part 3 / part 4 / part 5 / part 6 / part 7 / part 8 / part 9 / part 10

"Hey, everything will be alright."

Jimin's voice was so soft. So, so soft. And the way he held your face, gentle and sweet, almost a little too kind to be true but as your time in the dungeon began to expand, you came to know that Jimin wasn't really all that rude and arrogant. He was sweet and caring, that warm light you always wanted to be there for you in the dark dungeon.

Upon checking up on you during his rounds as the head guard, he found you laid on the cold hard floor, shivering, weaker than usual. When you gave him no answer to his calls, he was quick to unlock the door of the cell and walk up to you, crouching down as he helped you sit up. His hands were so warm as he allowed you to lean against him, checking your temperature and realizing how high it had gotten. Under the dim light of two candles that lit up the room, he saw how dry your lips were and how much more pale you had gotten.

"Jin hyung will be here soon, and so will Jungkookie."

Little clusters of footsteps could be heard but you were too tuned out to realize.

"No, it's alright," you told Jimin otherwise, trying to lean away from you so that you could sit up on your own yet failing a quick few seconds later. "I don't want to bother them, please," you begged a little, tears welling up in your eyes yet you tried to blink them away, not wanting to cry. "I'm already being a bother by being here in this clan, I don't want to entice more problems. I'll be alright."

"You're burning up, Y/N, you need-"

"Burning up?" The two of you looked up at the familiar concerning voice of the young dragon who was quick to take advantage of the unlocked door of the cell. "What's wrong?" Jungkook asked, eyes filled with worry as he knelt down to your eye level, reaching out to touch your forehead. His eyes widened. "Y/N."

"I'm fine," you told him, flagging away his hand from your head.

"I'll be the judge of that."

Chills ran down your body and suddenly, you teared up a little more. Maybe it was from your sickness making you a little weaker, or due to the realizing that all of the princes were in one room, or perhaps both. Either way, you felt scared and met the eyes of Jungkook's with a bit of panic.

He who understood that sign maneuvered his hand downwards to hold yours with a light squeeze, trying to assure you that you were going to be okay.

But the hold of his hand only made you worry further, not wanting to upset the older princes any more than you already were.

Seokjin sat in front of you, ignoring Jungkook's stubborn hand still holding yours while you tried to force it away but with how weak you were compared to him, he naturally won the little fight. The healer's hand reached out to check your temperature and his brows furrowed with how hot your temperature was.

"What are you feeling right now? Any pain? Wanting to vomit? A severe headache?"

But your weak voice just spoke out "I'm fine," a lie that any of them could tell right away and Seokjin let out a soft sigh, knowing that you had still yet to leave that phase of not wanting to be a bother. But then again, he couldn't really blame you for that. It was their fault you felt that way.

Under the dim light of the dungeon, Jungkook could see how pale you had gotten, more weaker than the last time he saw you, that bit of light you had gain now completely gone. He wished he was Jimin, holding you safely, wished that he could ease your pain if even a little or to completely take it all away and be in your place if it was possible. But he couldn't do much except for holding your hand to try and assure you that you weren't a burden but even that wasn't much of a help.

"Don't look like that," Hoseok said as he placed a hand on top of Jungkook's shoulder. "Why do you look like you're blaming yourself? None of this was your doing."

"Back then, she'd always ease the pain away for me," Jungkook mumbled under his breath almost inaudibly, the guilt eating him up as his stomach churned, "Yet I become so useless when the table turns around." He met your eyes again when he said that and although you wanted to protest, you couldn't. You could only groan a little, the light of the candles suddenly becoming too much as you closed your eyes shut, your hand that was wrapped by Jungkook's just sat sprawled there with the loss of strength.

The silence laid there for a long moment until Seokjin spoke up. "Stop worrying too much, I'll take care of her in your stead."

Jungkook's head was quick to perk up and the eldest's heart ached at the sight of his eyes all teared up due to the shame and guilt he was weighing himself. "You will?" He asked, hope in his eyes, eyes that were finally giving them some sort of attention and light they hadn't seen in a long while after treating you not so greatly.

You were someone special to Jungkook and they couldn't deny that. No matter how much they disliked it, it was the truth.

Seokjin met the eyes of the leader and when he said no opposing words, the healer nodded. "I will."

Hoseok gave the maknae a light squeeze while he sat there, eyes not wanting to stray away from your face.

"Come on, Kook," Seokjin said as he began standing up after having Jimin transport you into his arms, "we have to move her back into the medicine nests. I can't do my job in this environment."

For a long moment, Jungkook just stood there as his hyungs began walking away, following Seokjin out of the dungeons. All but one whose second home was the dungeons itself.

"Y/N," Jimin began softly, catching back the attention of Jungkook, "she's a rose who still has yet to bud properly, a rose who's thorns have overgrown as the walls that traps her from within. One day she'll get there, bloom a thousand petals and become a beautiful rose. And one day," he looked at Jungkook, a hand on his shoulder with a small smile, "one day we'll see why she means so much to you. And perhaps I'll get there sooner than them."

With that, he walked away, light footsteps echoing into the background.

.

.

"Kook, go home before you fall asleep in here."

"What's so bad about falling asleep here? You own these nests, I'm safe here," Jungkook mumbled through his pouts, his eyes never straying away from you while he sat beside your bed, hand held tight around yours with no intentions of letting go. He had to see you when you wake up, had to see you getting all better so that his worries could ease away.

Seokjin who's been rearranging some of his remedies heaved out a soft sigh. "It's not about safety, Kooks, it's about you needing your rest and you have to go back to the castle for that."

"I'm not sleeping anytime soon," the little dragon refused stubbornly though Seokjin could clearly see how droopy his lids have gotten since trying to keep awake to watch over you.

"Come on, little one," he urged, softly patting him on the head to encourage him to leave, "you've been busy all day long with the hunting patrols, you can't expect to keep awake all night just to watch over her, alright? You're in charge of the hunts, Kooks, you have to rest and awaken when dawn arrives."

"But hyung," Jungkook whined, "just let Hoseokie hyung be in charge for the time being. I can't leave Y/N's side. She's never left mine whenever I was sad and needed comforting so why should I? It's only fair I start paying back her kindness."

"She really matters that much, huh?"

He was a little hesitant, not because he wasn't sure of the answer but because of the fact that he was aware of the subtle jealous tone in Seokjin's voice. It wasn't hard to tell that his mates have come to envy his relationship with you, he just hoped that they could come to a bit of understanding after what he had told them right before they were alerted about your illness.

But even though he cared about you, he knew that another part was wrong to feel such way for someone else. He had six mates to love and that loved him with all his heart. He didn't love them any less even though you got into the picture but he knew that it was still wrong, hating to hurt his mates.

"I'm sorry," he whispered breathlessly.

Seokjin couldn't give him an answer back, he could only look away with an inaudible sigh and returned to his work, trying his best to not pay any mind to you and Jungkook.

He was indeed jealous, who wouldn't be if they ever found out someone they loved cared for another? He couldn't understand Jungkook's feelings just yet but he silently vowed to himself that he'd start by not hating you so much. After all, you brought their Jungkook back to them. He couldn't hate you for that.

It was only a few minutes later when he heard the soft little snores coming out from the young dragon and when he looked up, Jungkook's head had rest on your bed, next to your arm while his hand still held yours without any desire of letting go.

Seokjin stopped working to just stare at the two of you and for some reason, a feeling of nostalgia rushed down upon him. You laid on the bed without any movements, fever still high, while Jungkook sat beside you, wanting to watch over you through the whole night but only able to keep his eyes open for so long before he had dozed off completely.

It reminded him of the days when Jungkook had gotten sick. He was a dragon who was sensitive to smell, who got sick often, and made his hyungs worry each and every day. They always felt the need to protect over the young prince, watch him at every moment they could find time to spare, pat his head and praised him when he did well, made sure he was well fed and smiling at all times.

Everyone else in the clan saw him as this mighty dragon who needed no protection and was the strongest of them all and while none of that was false, to them, Jungkook was just a young dragon who was still that innocent kid they took in after finding him lost in the woods one day. Namjoon found him and took him in and because Seokjin was a healer in training at the time, the three of them often spent time together and the eldest would always take care of the sick young boy.

When words came back to warn them about how Jungkook had never came back from his hunting and how no one saw him leave or knew where he went, that set panic within the guys in an instant. They sent search parties all around but with the fact that no one knew which direction the youngest went towards, it was impossible to search the grounds.

None of them could find themselves sleeping at night and it became more often when tears would fall upon them because a part of them felt as if Jungkook would never come back. They thought they'd lost him for good. It had been months since his disappearance after all.

But when Jungkook came back again, he held a human in his hands, refusing to let anyone hurt you and regarded you as someone very special to him.

They couldn't understand it, even as he stated that the human freed him, because they could see the way he held you, how he smiled and spoke to you in such a gentle way, in the ways they had done to him. They'd never seen Jungkook so soft, it was always the other way around where he was the one receiving the soft coos and smiles.

Jungkook grew more sensitive than ever and for the first time, their little maknae had someone he wanted to protect in the ways that his hyungs have regarded him. And that someone wasn't them.

Yet the more Seokjin watched you and Jungkook on that bed, the more he could see how soft Jungkook had gotten.

He changed.

He found someone he wanted to protect.

In certain aspects, Seokjin could understand a little because he could see it, he could see them in Jungkook with the way he regarded you in the way they regarded him.

And perhaps that wasn't all too bad. You looked like someone who needed all the love and protection after all.

.

.

He didn't like it, didn't like that he was being forced away from watching over you in order to head out on the patrol for hunting. But as Hoseok stated, he was the prince of hunts, he had to maintain order and not get away for another long period since he had been gone for nine weeks, captured by the humans, once. They couldn't waste more time not being able to feed the clan and he knew he didn't want to fail anyone.

Yet being away from you, you who grew even more sick throughout the night with a high fever, Jungkook wasn't in the right headspace for hunting so they decided to take a little break and there he was, sat on one of the highest hills of the valley with a mind filled with thoughts of you. Concerned for your well being.

A part of him knew he could trust his hyung. After all, Seokjin had never turn his back away from a patient. His job as a healer was far more important than any of his resentments. But still, he couldn't help but worry. Was that how his hyungs felt whenever he was sick? Because when he was younger, he got sick so easily the medicine nests became a second home to him. It worried his hyungs a lot.

As he sat there staring down at the meadows, Hoseok watched him with a bit of concern. "Can I ask you a question about Y/N?" The older dragon asked as he settled himself next to Jungkook.

"Sure."

For the past six weeks since you had been in the dungeon, he was angry at his hyungs for locking you up in the first place. A part of him would rather freeing you and letting you leave the clan if it meant you weren't going to be locked in but then again, where would you go? You had no home and someone like you couldn't survive out in the wilderness alone. Yet again, perhaps it was also due to his selfishness on wanting you to stay, so that he didn't have to fear you leaving, so that he could come to dislike his hyungs a little less.

Yet Jungkook knew that no matter what happened, he'd never be able to hate his hyungs. They were his mates. Mates for life. And that was another thing that made his heart waver a little. Because what about you?

"Why doesn't Y/N ever blame anyone?" Hoseok asked, the question stuck in his head from the first moment you were casted into the dungeons and especially in that moment when he walked into the cells for the first time, finding you at your weakest point, ready to collapse at any moment. Perhaps they had been too cruel to the poor human. Still, despite the situation you were in, he wondered sincerely about the fact that you were so selfless even towards the ones whom you should have hated the most.

In a small whisper, Jungkook simply stated, "Because she's Y/N."

Hoseok tilted his head to the side. "What does that mean?"

"Y/N never blames anyone and she doesn't like telling anyone about her own problems and situations because she always feels as if she is a bother." Growing up with a village that always deemed you as the outsider, as the one who didn't belonged, their harsh words drilled into your mind and although you always hid the pain behind a sweet smile, Jungkook had come to realize how sad those smiles were.

"She hides behind a mask yet her sweet kindness is always sincere. Always." His eyes fell, a little broken, filled with a bit of regret. "Maybe she does it because she knows how it feels to be inferior, or maybe she does it because she's gotten used to it. Gotten used to the pains that she forgets that it's okay to cry, that she deserves happiness of her own."

Hoseok had never meant to resent you, he shouldn't have. But to be able to hear a part of your story broke him a little more than he'd ever come to think. Yet it was wrong. He knew it was wrong. He shouldn't have to hear a story in order to be kinder, because now all he was feeling was the guilt eating him up for even wanting you gone the moment Jungkook brought you to the clan. They should have been happy at the fact that you brought their little prince back home, but all they had in their heads was the fact that Jungkook had saw something within you as a mate.

And now you had to suffer the consequences of their actions, something you never deserved in the first place.

They couldn't change the past but perhaps they could change the future.

"The bed's comfy isn't it?" Jimin guessed, a small smile plastered on his lips as he found himself happy at the fact that you upgraded from that cold hard floor to Seokjin's much more comfortable bed.

"I shouldn't get used to it," you said, a little sigh leaving your lips.

"Why not?" Jungkook frowned.

"Because I'll be back in that cell after prince Seokjin deems I'm all healed."

They sat there still for a moment, silence surpassing the group of four as Seokjin's hands stopped in midair while in the process of making thyme tea for you.

"Get used to it," the eldest claimed after the moment of silence as he resumed his work.

You looked up at him, just as confused as the other two dragons. "What?"

The healer faced forward again, a cup of tea in hand as he walked over to hand it to you. "Sick patients shouldn't go back to the same dirty cell. You caught a fever, you might catch something even worse and being in there only makes things worse. You're not in a good condition, little human, whether that's physically, mentally, or both."

"So you're saying you'll talk to Namjoon and Yoongi about this?" Jungkook asked, suddenly excited with hope filled in his eyes. Yoongi, who was in charge of crimes and punishments, and Namjoon, leader of them all, who'd make the final decisions. Was Seokjin really going to try and talk to them?

The healer cleared his throat as he turned his back on the three of you again, not wanting to see the hope in all three of your eyes because a part of him was worried the two weren't going to come to a compromise.

"Yes, but I make no promises to the outcomes."

"Thank you, hyung!"

It was the first time in forever had they ever heard such excitement in Jungkook's voice. For the past long weeks, he'd been upset and lost much of his smile ever since he returned to the clan with you in hand. And to be able to understand that Jungkook had come to dwell himself in excitement only for your case, the love and care for you in their maknae's heart was only growing more and more.

"You'll catch a cold."

Under the moonlight and stars where you stood leaning against the balcony, wrapped up in a blanket, Seokjin almost thought that you looked...cute.

The paleness of your skin had already mostly gone by since the past few days you've been treated under his care and you've gained a bit of light again.

He had only meant to drop by one of his medicine nests to pick something up, not realizing you would still be up as the moon was high in the sky. "Sleep is an important factor to healing properly, you know," the healer reminded with a light scold, "you shouldn't be up this late."

"Sorry," you pursed your lips, " I couldn't sleep."

His brows furrowed with a bit of worry. "Are you in pain? Has your temperature gone up again?"

Suddenly he took a few steps forward to feel your forehead. He was close, so close. And at that point, you were sure that your face had begun to heat up. A part of you was thankful for the night sky while another part of you prayed the moon wasn't too bright for him to see your blush. It'd be too risky. You had already sort of stolen Jungkook away, grew feelings for the dragon. You couldn't risk falling for another even though Jimin was sort of already closely behind.

You silently scolded yourself, upset at how easy it was to fall for someone's kindness and mistake it for something else. You knew they had each other, loved one another, something you always hoped for once in your lifetime, so you also knew that you couldn't be the reason to break that bond away. Even if it meant giving up Jungkook. You were prepared for that, to just have his friendship. It would be better than nothing.

"J-just," you cleared your throat as you took a few steps back, away from Seokjin, "the late night thoughts keeps me awake."

It was quiet for a short few seconds before Seokjin let out a sigh. "Thinking too much isn't good," he scolded once again, tapping lightly on your head before turning around to walk over to his cabinets and picking something out of it. "They moon is in full view and so are the stars, you have nothing to worry about. It isn't completely dark for you to be afraid of sleeping."

You blinked. "How'd you know I couldn't sleep without some sort of light?"

"Jimin told me."

A glow of light passed by as he jumped off the balcony, transforming into the dragon he was. "Goodnight, Y/N."

Y/N.

He called you your name for the first time that night.

"Goodnight, prince Seokjin."

That night, you went to sleep feeling the most calm and content since forever.

.

.

"Have you ever seen the world in a dragon's viewpoint?"

"You mean...from the sky?"

Seokjin nodded. "Precisely."

You shook your head at his question. "When Jungkook brought me here, I was unconscious."

"Right." Seokjin nodded again and his gaze fell outside of the nest, towards the horizon above the mountains that kept the dragon's clan hidden. You wondered what he was thinking about when suddenly, the man turned around with a small smile. "Want to experience it?"

You blinked at the request, surprised and caught off guard. "Out...there?" You asked, pointing outside. "Am I allowed?"

"I'm one of the princes, Y/N, and as your healer, I'd say that you're in a much better health than the past few days."

You've always wondered how the world looked like from high above, always wondered how it felt to have wings only because you wanted to get away from looking at the world as a human. But then again, the high grounds scared you. "I'm afraid of heights."

Seokjin found himself letting out a soft chuckle. Another fear. "That's okay, Taehyung was scared too."

"Prince Taehyung?"

"Crazy, right? How can a dragon be afraid of heights?" The male recalled, laughing a bit to himself. "But once he got over it and saw how beautiful the world was from above, his fears were quick to leave."

"Really?" You asked, a little hopeful but still doubted the whole thing. Was the world that beautiful to be able to distract you from your fear?

"You'll be alright, I'll be there with you." He held your hand for a moment, squeezing it as a way of assurance before realizing what he had just done and was quick to let your hand go. A few coughs left his lips awkwardly. "Anyways, uh..." He took off, falling off the balcony only to reappear as a dragon, "climb on."

It was scary even just looking down as one of his wings extended out to invite you on. But his eyes, contrasting from those once dark orbs as a human, are now colored with the bright full moon, silver orbs that almost made you forget about leaving the grounds and falling onto his back to let him carry you. "Promise me you won't let me fall?" You worried, already feeling dizzy from just the fact that his medicine nest was already far from the ground.

The dragon chuckled. "Of course, little human. No need to be afraid."

"You have to take responsibility for my life if I fall off."

"I will."

"But you really can't let me fall."

"I won't. I'll hear an earful from Jungkook if I ever let that happen."

"Promise?"

He sent you a nod accompanied with a smile. "I promise, Y/N."

You closed your eyes, taking a deep breath, and then, slowly, you climbed on top of the balcony. Where his wings extended out, a small squeak left your lips as you slid down from it where he adjusted himself so that you'd be securely sat on his back.

"Good?" The dragon asked, not wanting to take off unless you felt safe.

"Y-yeah," you stuttered, holding onto him tightly with eyes that kept shut.

And then, Seokjin flapped his wings and the two of you were off riding the wind, a process you couldn't quite see due to your fear of height which restricted you from opening your eyes.

"Y/N."

"Hm?"

"You can open your eyes now."

It took a moment, but with one little peek and the sudden courage, you allowed your eyes to slowly blink open and then, your mouth gaped at the beautiful scene in front of you.

On the back of Seokjin, you could see almost everything. Below you laid a vibrant green forest that stretched out into the horizon. The trees stood standing tall, each of them reaching out for the brightest star as if they were in a race to see who'd become the strongest and tallest trees of them all. You saw a jewel-blue stream diverging into different paths at different directions curving gently through the forest. Behind you stood the majestic pointed rocks that was what you came to realize was where the clan laid. It loomed in the distance, fogs dancing around towards the sky while spikes of thin light, illuminated from the sun's rays, impaled the snow that sat near the top of the mountain.

If there was any moment where you felt the most free at any point in your lifetime, you'd say that it was in that moment right there.

The sky, the mountains, the earth, and the water stood like a beautiful painting you'd only see in markets drawn by incredible artists who's visit the village once in a while. The stories you've once told Jungkook long ago was nothing compared to what you were witnessing. Conquering the lands? Now it felt as if the world belonged to you.

And as you let your arms extend outward to feel the rushing wind that flowed at every direction of your body, for the first time in forever, you felt alive. A rose that was ready to reach out for the sun above her, reaching out despite the thorns that held her back from the light. But then again, were you really ready?

"Beautiful, isn't it?"

Seokjin's voice came back into the picture and for a moment, you had almost forgotten you were riding a dragon, the only reason why you were even able to see the world in such an incredible way.

"It's so beautiful I want to cry," you admitted and he laughed.

"There is lots to see, little human, the Earth is a vast place and we have all the time in the world to explore it."

We.

"We?"

"Namjoon will come around, he isn't all that cruel."

Had Seokjin accepted you into the clan? Had he accepted you?

Yet the question could never be voiced out when suddenly, a loud roar from behind was heard and Seokjin was quick to swerve his head around as alarm rushed through your body. You gasped at the sight of a dragon, two dragons that didn't look like any of his kinds. Ones that were much bigger and more deadly looking with a large scar on one of the dragon's eyes.

Seokjin's speed increased by the second and the wind began to circle at different motions as he began to fly about, away from the two dragons.

"Who are they?!" You asked, holding on more tightly than ever before, the fear rushing through your body.

"An enemy clan," was all the prince had to shout back before he fell into a silence, concentrating on where he was going while the adrenaline kept him going.

The wind was harsh, growing icy cold by the minute and you began to fear whether you could hold on for much longer. The rough speed made it hard to hold on and you begin to feel your fingers slipping, something that made you pray silently, hoping someone would come to the rescue.

Loud roars echoed into the air and Seokjin roared back, more so as a way to alert any of his warriors that he was in danger.

"Seokjin!" You squeaked, breathing shortening as if you were the one on the run.

"Just a little longer, Y/N. Hold on a little longer."

You couldn't be a burden, couldn't have him worrying about you steadying yourself when he had to worry about escaping the two dragons that were on his tail.

But as Seokjin led the two dragons towards the forest where he swerved about to avoid the trees, you screamed a little louder, worried you'd fall right down.

"Jin!"

Another dragon's voice, something that sounded familiar. Like an angel that came to answer your prayers.

Seokjin rushed towards the sky again where Namjoon stood. The leader's eyes stared at you in pure confusion, a silent questioning gaze of what the heck you were doing outside of the clan before returning to Seokjin, eyes a piercing gaze.

"Head east, I'll take care of them," he demanded.

"Joon-"

"Now!"

Seokjin rushed away and your body lunged back for a moment at the sudden speed. You looked back from where you sat and saw Namjoon high and mighty, a loud roar leaving him as he demanded a challenge out of the two dragons.

"What's gonna happen to him?"

Seokjin's eyes fell into hesitation, a bit of worry, a bit of frustration, and a bit of guilt. He wanted to turn around and face the other dragons but with you on his back, he knew he couldn't. "H-he's gonna be alright. It'll be alright."

"But Jin-"

Before your eyes could even blink, another dragon, huge and full of strength, crashed upon Seokjin, head butting him and allowing the dragon you were on to let out a loud cry as he fell back though he tried his best to not let his wings fail him.

Seokjin was able to regain his strength again but in that moment of the harsh impact, your fingers slipped away from Seokjin and down you went from the sky.

You scream was quick to alert the male but just as he was about to rush towards you, the dragon in front of him cut off his path.

Namjoon, who had been a few yards away was quick on his wings to fly down where you fell near a cliff that's made your fall even worse.

He caught you in his arms but the second he was about to fly up again, caught off guard, the dragon with a scar on one of his eyes jabbed at him with his head, a harsh push that caused one of Namjoon's wings to hit a hard rock. Blood gushed out and Namjoon gave out a loud cry as he fell, one of his hands that held you almost had you slipping, causing your shoulder to get hurt by the impact as he fell, hitting stones after stones.

Yet as he fell, his other wing curled up against him as he held you close towards his body, refusing to let you get hurt any further and protecting you from the pains he had to face.

Down and down the two of you went and Seokjin could only cry aloud, his eyes bloodshot red with tears streaming down as he could do nothing but watch.

[quazartranslates]

Welcome to the Nightmare Game II - CH48

**This is an edited machine translation. For more information, please [click here]**

[<<< Previous Chapter | Table of Contents | Next Chapter >>>]

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Chapter 48: Star Death Reality Show (XXXI) {cw: misgendering}

"Will Qi Leren be alright?" Dr. Lu, who had already run away, looked at Du Yue behind him in a panic and murmured in a low voice, "I have a bad feeling."

"Qianbei will be fine," Du Yue said confidently.

"No, let's go down and have a look. If he’s in trouble, we can help," Dr. Lu said.

"Okay, let's go." Du Yue was fine with it.

The two people studied the route to find the safest passage. Dr. Lu's sense of direction was bad, and Du Yue wasn’t much better. Two headless flies wandered around the institute and accidentally found intermittent blood on the ground.

The two walked along the blood trail, and finally found the injured Lara in a hidden room. Her injury wasn’t serious, but her spirit was not good. After seeing Du Yue and Dr. Lu, she was silent for a long time, and her voice was hoarse as she asked: "Have you seen Jing Siyu and Jing Sixue?"

The two shook their heads, and Lara sighed: "I'm afraid they’re in danger."

Lara told them what had happened after they ran away. Jing Siyu and Jing Sixue disappeared quickly, but Janet, Alex and Lara were together. They’d had an argument because Francis had been parasitized by an octopus. Janet strongly suspected that Lara was parasitized, and Lara would naturally not admit to such false accusations. During the argument, they met Leviathan, who had been thrown off by Qi Leren once before.

Janet, who was the closest to Leviathan, was the first to be killed. Alex tried to escape, but Leviathan jumped up again. Alex, who was eager to get rid of it, tried to push Lara out, and even stabbed Lara with a dagger. However, Lara had a strong will to survive. She took the dagger regardless of her injury and stabbed Alex’s vitals with a knife. She hid in a room, locked the door, and crawled away from the vents.

After that, Lara tenaciously fled the whole way, and finally came here and met Du Yue and Dr. Lu.

"We also met the monster, and Qi Leren led it away. Here's the thing..." Dr. Lu plainly told the story again, and finally asked, "We’re going to find Qi Leren. Would you like to join us?"

Lara touched the wound on her hand and nodded firmly: "Let's go."

This time, all three people were in a heavy mood. Especially after seeing the incomplete bodies of Jing Siyu and Jing Sixue, Lara cried sadly and asked aloud, "Are we the only ones left? Is Qi still alive?"

Janet and Alex had undoubtedly died by Leviathan's mouth, as well as Jing Siyu and Jing Siyue. Francis, Annie, Mark and Xue Jiahui were all parasitized. He Yi became Leviathan’s host. Only four of them had survived, and among them, Qi Leren’s life and death were still uncertain.

"Of course he’s still alive!" Dr. Lu said firmly. "He must still be alive!"

　　&&&

In the vast underground ice palace.

"Prophet, are you awake?" A blindfolded woman stood up from the chair of carved ice and respectfully saluted him. The ice and snow maids who were responsible for guarding the underground ice palace also bent over in salute.

"Soothsayer? Is it your rotation today?" asked the Prophet.

"It should have been the Iillusionist’s turn, but he had something to do, so we changed it," the Soothsayer replied.

"How is that boy recently?" When it came to the Illusionist, the Prophet's tone was clearly casual.

"Not bad, I heard that he made an interesting new friend, and he played tricks on others all day long." The Soothsayer smiled and asked again, "This time, you slept for a much shorter time than expected. Is something wrong?"

"It's not an accident." The Prophet frowned and looked up at the dome of ice and snow, but his line of sight seemed to pass through the thick layer of ice and look at the vast universe.

The blindfolded Soothsayer could not see his expression at the moment, but she could feel his inner unrest.

"Someone has discovered their original force, and that force is biased towards us," said the Prophet.

The Soothsayer breathed a sigh of relief, smiled, and said, "Isn't this a good thing? Although it’s only the first step, it’s always ahead of the other sentient beings on the starting line. Maybe it will eventually condense a half-field or even a field."

It was only the first step to discover one's original force, and it would take some difficult self-testing to condense a half-field, but this already meant that this person was about to embark on a road different from ordinary players. Any master at the field level started from this first step. Although most people would fall in the long road of experience, everyone who had reached the field level had terrible strength.

The Prophet sighed faintly: "It’s too early to talk about field condensation... Although I’m optimistic about him, I didn’t expect it to be so fast. This may not be a good thing for him. There are still too many problems in his body that have not been solved."

The Soothsayer asked curiously, "Do you know that man? What is his original force?"

The Prophet sensed the new force full of vigor and hope, and gently spoke the answer:

"Rebirth."

　　&&&

In the deep underground glacier wrapped in eternal cold, the temperature was 60 degrees below zero. When human beings were exposed to this environment, it only took a few minutes for the blood in the nose and ears to be unable to maintain circulation because of the cold, and the cells would quickly die.

This underground world without light seemed destined to be forgotten in the cold.

Crushed skull, whole body fracture, ruptured organs, internal and external bleeding... Worse than that, when falling from that height, the speed would return to zero at the moment of contact with the ground, and the body would be deformed instantly under the huge force of the impact. Even the space alien Leviathan, whose vitality was extremely terrible, was seriously injured after falling and fell into a deep sleep.

To say nothing of a human being.

Death was the only outcome.

But suddenly, something moved in the ruinous "tomb" created from broken ice.

And then moved again.

Qi Leren felt as if he was in an icy hell. Every time he breathed, thousands of ice needles punctured his internal organs crazily, which made him feel miserable. He couldn't even think of why he felt so painful and cold, or where he was.

Under this inhuman pain, he only felt that he didn't want to live any longer, but he couldn't even die.

Breathing returned, heartbeat returned, he still couldn't open his eyes, he could only move with all his might. The stones and ice blocks on his arms also moved and collapsed violently, and his sound echoed in the lifeless darkness.

Qi Leren's consciousness gradually returned, and he remembered who he was, but he still didn't realize where he was. He complained crazily in his mind that the air conditioner in his room was too cold, and that he had even accidentally fallen from the bed, and now he couldn't move.

But how could it hurt so much? It was like all his bones were broken.

Qi Leren's confused thinking leaped illogically. He saw many things, and the broken pictures rampaged in front of his eyes, but they just passed away. All he remembered was that he saw a pair of blue eyes.

Blue eyes.

Ning Zhou.

The name suddenly appeared in Qi Leren’s, which was like a spell to unlock the seal on his memories. Countless heavy memories were bearing down, which were more painful than the rose thorn stuck in his heart.

He was going to find Ning Zhou, and he was going to bring him back.

Qi Leren finally recalled his mission, and he began to struggle, struggling to get up from the tomb built from broken ice. Just turning over exhausted his strength, and he had to lie prone on the ground and breathe for a while, only to recover his strength slowly.

He noticed the time. It has been twenty hours since he’d fallen from the ice cliff. It was ten o'clock on the fifth night. The fifth day’s Best of the Day had already been announced, but he didn't know who it was. At the same time, his privacy time has been reset with the new day day, and he had another ten hours.

If you fell from such a high place, the tracking camera should be damaged. If not, the low temperature here should make it unable to work normally. But just to be on the safe side, turn it off.

"Turn off the camera." Qi Leren squeezed his voice out of his dry throat, and coughed wildly as soon as he finished speaking. His mouth was full of the fishy sweetness of blood, which made Qi Leren feel queasy.

Suddenly there was a light sound in the dark, as if a stone had been pushed down.

Qi Leren immediately took out a flashlight from the item bar and shone it in the direction of the sound.

Not far away, there is a mound of rocks and crushed ice, and a tentacle was slowly sticking out from the inside, which was extremely slow and seems to be seriously injured.

That thing wasn't dead yet? Or did it sense the breath of the living again and wake up from hibernation?

Qi Leren struggled from the ground. Although he was mysteriously resurrected, his left hand, which was bitten off by Leviathan, still didn't grow back. If he tried this again, he would only die.

But fortunately, he had a key item that had cooled down.

When the Prophet's Heart was used again, Qi Leren felt subtly different from the last time. The phantom angel falling from the sky came to him and took him away from the terrible world to the carefree Garden of Eden. Under the cover of God's grace, he didn't need to worry, and he didn't feel fear. The world was like sand in his hand, and he could easily knead it into the shape he wanted.

Heavy rocks and ice were pushed away with a flick, exposing Leviathan lying on the ground dying. This horrible monster had a red eye, and this huge eyeball was full of ferocious madness.

There was an invisible giant clock behind him, and the pointer walked quickly. As long as it finished three laps, the power he borrowed would be like the chime of midnight, dissipating all magic.

He had to hurry.

Qi Leren held out his hand and raised his palm in the void. Leviathan floated and began to roar and struggle, but this degree of resistance had no effect before the original force. Moving the palm of his hand slowly, Qi Leren felt that he could easily knead it into pieces, just like what he did to Mark's octopus.

But this was not the only way. Qi Leren felt the mystery of time and carefully explored its secret. A mysterious feeling emerged in his heart. He rubbed his fingers and the sands of time slowly flowed down in his hands.

Leviathan floating in the air as if it had been cast in magic. Its shell was rapidly aging, coated with a layer of rust, and finally it seems to be petrified. Its body was full of cracks, and finally it turned into powder like beach sand, which sprinkled to the ground slowly, leaving a golden treasure chest and a round sphere.

Qi Leren waved his hand, and these two things fell into his hands. The treasure chest was opened, which was an item.

[Lucky Revolver: There are six slots in this gun’s chamber, one of which is loaded with a bullet. Shooting at one's own temple can give one minute of absolute defense within a radius of 500 meters around the locked target, but the absolute defense is invalid for this bullet. Even if you are lucky, God will only give you five minutes. If you are not afraid of death, you can continue for another minute. Locked target: not set.]

Qi Leren immediately decided that this was of no use to him, because he would blow his head off with the first shot, and unless it was matched with S/L, it was a waste.

Disappointed, he looked at the other object, which was an eyeball as big as a bowl. The scarlet pupil seemed familiar. It was called [Leviathan's Eyeball].

What was this thing? There wasn’t even a brief introductory description, which reminded Qi Leren of another prop without a brief introduction, namely, the "Scepter of Hell", which Maria had entrusted him to give to the Prophet.

Time was running out, and the clock representing his time limit only had half a rotation left. The translucent wings behind the Qi Leren lifted him, flying over the deep underground glacier, crossing the collapsed ice tunnel, flying all the way along the coming road, and returning to the iron door at the entrance before time ran out.

"Qi Leren? You’re still alive? That’s great!" "Qianbei! Are you alright? Qianbei! How did you grow wings!" "Qi, are you alright?" The three people wandering around the door with flashlights rushed up in surprise at the sight of Qi Leren.

Prophet's Heart’s time was up, and Qi Leren landed on the ground. After the sacred power retreated, he sat down weakly and walked out of the underground ice cave with the help of the three panicking people.

"It's okay, it's all taken care of. Just in case, we should quickly leave here, seal the exits, and wait for rescue." Although Qi Leren was still in the aftershocks of coming back from the dead, his mind was clear, and he clearly commanded the three people. He was worried about whether there were any octopuses hatching in the research institute, but he was afraid to say it now, for fear that after his mouth moved, his good luck would run out.

Du Yue had great strength, and single handedly carried Qi Leren, who had lost his arm, on his back. He listened to the three people say what had happened after they’d split up, learning that after discovering that the other people had become Leviathan's food, the three people had come to the bottom of the institute to look for Qi Leren. They went in several times, but the temperature inside was horribly low. Unlike Qi Leren who had been blessed by the holy light, they finally had to retreat, worried that Qi Leren was dead.

Qi Leren didn't say that he and Leviathan had fallen off the ice cliff together, only that Leviathan had fallen off, and that he was injured and unconscious for a long time but didn't die. Finally, God blessed him and gave him strength to return to them.

Dr. Lu and Du Yue were very embarrassed, but Lara was very moved. She took Qi Leren's remaining right hand and sincerely said, "When we go back, introduce me to your teachings. I’m willing to be baptized."

Qi Leren, who had no intention of preaching at all, was in a distressing situation. One atheist has destroyed the worldviews of another atheist through acting skills and unscientific miracles—maybe more than one. Should he be sealed as a saint or something?

They left the underground research institute, blocked the exit, left the basement, and returned to the surface. The night was bright and the whole land was covered with white snow and ice. Lara, who was the first to leave the room, pointed to the sky in surprise and shouted: "Look, what is that!"

The three people raised their heads and looked at the approaching black spots.

"Is it... Is the rescue coming?" Dr. Lu was excited.

"Great." Qi Leren also breathed a sigh of relief. The copy was coming to an end, and they could return to the Nightmare World soon.

The spacecraft was getting closer and closer, and before long, they would be able to board the spacecraft safely and leave, but the spacecraft was slow to land. The four people waited anxiously, just like waiting for a late plane.

"It seems like something’s wrong." Lara stood up and looked at more and more spacecrafts that had no intention of landing. "What are they waiting for?"

A thought flashed through Qi Leren's mind: "Are they a civilian spacecrafts?"

"No, these are..." Lara said, her voice stopping abruptly.

A beam more dazzling than sunlight converged on the muzzle of the spacecraft, and the terrible energy was aimed at this planet!

Stunned, the four people watched the devastating attack on the plane beneath their feet, and they couldn't help feeling shocked. They had never thought that, after escaping death from a horrible space alien, they would finally die at the hands of their own people. In order to prevent the octopus from spreading, the army gave up the idea of a rescue landing and blasted the whole planet to pieces at a safe distance, where there was no risk of contact.

At the last second in this copy world, Qi Leren and the others were judged to have completed the task requirement of "surviving until the army arrived", and left the world in the light of the blast.

-----

Editor’s Notes: Obviously those items can only have positive results, right?

As a bonus for the end of this arc, BMBL wrote a collection of the program audience’s reactions on her Weibo. They’re posted as images so I can’t easily throw them into an mtl, but here’s the link for anyone who wants to take a stab at it: https://weibo.com/1741082525/F4b6D7Upr

-----

[<<< Previous Chapter | Table of Contents | Next Chapter >>>]

[wienerbarnes]

The Escape

Pairing: Bucky x Reader (Cheek to Cheek)

Word Count: 2,717

Warnings: mind control ooooo, general violence, description of stealing a car that is wildly inaccurate bc ive.... never stolen a car, dues ex machina

A/N: some background about the reader! this one takes place before the last chapter of the original series, way before anything with bucky. this oneshot kinda recounts her prison escape 👀 not a lot of bucky in this one, but kind how the reader got to where she is and stufffff i love a good origin story

MAIN MASTERLIST | CHEEK TO CHEEK MASTERLIST

You didn’t sleep the entire night. How could you? How were you supposed to sleep when you know you’re waking up to your inevitable death?

You refused a last meal a few hours ago. What was the point? You didn’t have an appetite anyway.

All you could do was count the hours, the minutes, the seconds, until the footsteps would sound down the hall, arriving at your cell, the guards would stare at you through the bullet-proof glass wall, the only wall of four that wasn’t made of thick concrete.

They’d take you down to the observation room, they’d strap you down in the chair before asking for your final words. You’d stare out into the window of the observation room, unable to see through to the otherside, but knowing there’d be witnesses there. Maybe the families of people you killed. Maybe government officials, the ones who worked as hard as possible to get you this ending.

First, the sodium thiopental would be injected into your veins to sedate you. Then, the vecuronium bromide will be given that will send your body into paralysis. Finally, the potassium chloride will stop your heart. And your life will be over.

What a shame.

Too soon, your life was wasted. And too soon did the guards feet sound down the hall. And too soon did he arrive in front of your cell, ordering you to get up from your bed to shackle you.

He’s alone, you notice. Perhaps they don’t expect you to put up much of a fight.

Something snaps in your brain and before you realize you’re even doing it, you’re tapping into the young guard’s poor brain. He was a cop. A cop turned prison guard to spend more time at home, less time out in the world trying to catch bad guys. Never really bad guys, though, always just some unlucky soul caught in the wrong place at the wrong time.

“Open the cell.” You tell him, finally through to his head. The keys jingle as he unlocks the three complicated locks attached to the side of the door.

You’re suddenly grateful for the hundreds of times they called you crazy, they called you a psycho, they told you you didn’t have powers, that that was your sad and sorry excuse of the reason for your crimes.

“Take off your clothes.” You order next. The young man begins to strip, taking off his clothes until he’s down to his underwear. White briefs with a blue waistband.

Once his uniform is on your body, you take everything he has, leaving his pistol with him.

“Shoot at everybody that comes in here.” You tell him, and he stares at you blankly, no longer in control of his actions as you take over.

You take a moment, closing your eyes and trying to concentrate on what the prison looks like, where the exits are, and where the guards are. You peek an eye open to glance at the man’s watch that now sits on your wrist, eight minutes until the shift changes.

Eight minutes for you to not fuck this up.

You close the cell door behind you, locking it, and making your way down the hall. You need to time this perfectly so that you’re slipping out as the other guards are leaving.

Just keep your head down, and get out as quickly as possible. Don’t talk to anyone. Just get out and start walking. You’ll get to the city eventually and you’ll hide out until you can keep making your way through New York. Maybe you’ll go to Jersey. Or up to New Hampshire.

Yeah, you’re just going to walk to New Hampshire, aren’t you?

Not a priority right now. Focus on getting out. A deep breath until you unlock the gate at the end of the hall, making your way out into another hallway. You visualize the map in your head once more and keep making your way down. You walk with confidence, head still slightly tilted down, but steps quick and light. Another guard turns the corner at the end of the hall and you make sure your steps don’t falter, and he walks right by you without a second thought.

You’re still unsure about the whole mind control thing. You don’t want to question it, because it seems to be pretty useful right now, but you don’t want to abuse it either, knowing your luck will eventually fail you.

It’s not long before you hear a gunshot ring out in the distance and you glance at a clock on the wall to see the shift change happening now.

You need to get out of here, now. Soon the guards will realize it’s you who’s missing from your cell and the search will begin. They’ll start with the entire grounds of the prison, which will hopefully buy you some time to make it to the city, if you sprint.

You finally make it to a more open area, exit signs now posted at the tops of doorways. You finally find a group of other men, some with bags or coats and you slip into the crowd, hoping that these are the guys leaving from their shift.

“Hey, have a good one, man. Tell the family I said hello.” A rough hand pats your shoulder before brushing past you.

Your stomach drops at the fact that these men are so unaware. So unaware that their real friend is in your cell, probably having a shootout with the new guards who just began their shift. The fact that these guards showed up to work today and the first thing they encounter is another guard in his underwear shooting at them.

Push it back. Push it back. Push it back.

As you’re huddled in between bodies, a bright light suddenly washes over your face. Sunlight. Your eyes burn at the feeling, a feeling so foreign having not felt it in months. You force them open though. You need to separate quickly, because not only do you not know where the parking lot is, you don't know which car is yours, you don’t have keys, and even if you did, you don’t know how to fucking drive.

Why did you never learn this! You never thought you’d need to since you decided you were going to join the military at sixteen, but you still should’ve fucking looked into it!

You don’t think you’ll make it walking. It’ll draw too much attention. The prison is in the middle of fucking nowhere and you’re just going to walk home? What would be worse is if someone offers you a ride.

New plan: find your car and hope it’s unlocked so you can sit inside until everyone leaves.

You know Hydra made you break into things before; houses, cars, etc. But you’ve tried to repress so much of that time that you can’t remember if you ever hot wired a car before.

You hope your luck doesn’t run out anytime soon.

Men arrive at their cars and the options quickly narrow down between an orange SUV and a black, fancy-looking car. You take your chances on the SUV.

It’s unlocked. It’s fucking unlocked. You shut the door and heave, feeling so hard to breath in the small space, but feeling relieved at the chance to finally make some noise and express your stress outside of that group of people you were stuck around.

“C’mon. C’mon! Fight or flight, c’mon, just make me know how to hot wire this.” You close your eyes, as though that will suddenly make the knowledge appear in your head. It doesn’t, surprisingly.

Until you look in the cupholder to see a dozen bobby pins. He probably has a daughter. “It’s going to have to do.” You mumble to yourself.

You quickly straighten them out and shove them into the small spot where the key goes. You twist and turn, holding a bunch of pins together to simulate an odd shape of the key, until finally you hear a click.

That’s gotta be good! Right? You go with it, continuing to twist until you hear a sputtering and crunchy sound of the engine starting.

This guy drives a piece of shit car. But it’s fucking on! You waste no time in putting the car into the drive before pulling out the lot. You make yourself extremely nauseous at your own driving, or rather, attempt at driving. You see in the rearview mirror the lights on the prison flashing, the bright red signaling that they’ve realized you escaped. You give yourself twenty minutes before they ditch the search of the prison grounds and look for you in the city.

Down the road you alternate between driving fifteen miles an hour to sixty, finding it so difficult to get a steady control of the car. But you’re doing it! You only need to make it to the city. That’s it.

“How the fuck do they make sixteen-year-olds do this shit?”

Eventually you get the hang of it. Still a terrible driver, but you at least don’t feel as scared driving among other cars. 

The longer you drive, the more it catches up to you what you’ve done. Soon enough, the tears come and so do the sobs. Until you stop a red light and let out a yell of agony, the stress and sadness washing through your body.

It’s hard, wanting to break down completely but having to keep your eyes open for the light to change, and having to pay attention to your surroundings. You find a small alleyway to pull into and you put the car in park before ditching it.

No time to cry, you can cry later. You peek around at the name of restaurants and stores around you, not recognizing any of them. You look at the street signs not recognizing those, either. You haven’t been around society in almost ten years, and you feel hopelessly and utterly lost.

You look around the alleyway and see a big dumpster. Just for a little while, you think. You lift the lid and climb inside, shutting the lid above you.

It’s dark, greasy, and the worst thing you’ve ever smelled, but it’s somehow better than where you were. You don’t know how much time has passed, but the noise outside the dumpster grows, and you make a guess that it’s around six or seven in the morning.

If you want to blend in with the crowd, you need to change your clothes. A prison guard outfit will most definitely make you stand out to people, especially when news breaks that there's a prison escapee on the loose.

When you finally lift the lid to stand up, you look to your left to see a teenager, probably not older than seventeen, staring at you, frozen, key in hand, seemingly to open up some store that you’re in back of.

He’s tall and lanky, and what makes him stand out to you the most is the spiky black hair he sports on his head and the thick black eyeliner around the rims of his eyes.

“You… okay?” He asks, clearly confused as to why a random woman in a prison guard outfit is hanging out in the dumpster behind her place of work. But you’re frozen. You don’t know what to say. You can’t imagine the last twelve hours I’ve been through, it won’t make much sense.

“Are you… hungry?” He asks when you don’t answer. “I’m, uh, opening now, but no one will be here for another hour or two when we actually open. I can make you something if you like?” He offers.

He thinks you’re homeless. Which, you are, technically. But he doesn’t recognize you. Perhaps you haven’t made the news yet, but it’ll only be a matter of time.

You finally nod, climbing out of the dumpster bin and walking over to where he holds the door open for you.

You devour the sandwich he makes you, a simple ham and cheese on white bread, but it’s the best thing you’ve eaten in, well, a decade.

“How long have you been homeless for?”

“Are you from New York?”

“What’s your zodiac sign?”

“What’s your favorite band?”

So many questions come from the curious kid, kindness radiating from him. Casual conversation ensues, and you’re careful not to give too much away.

“Can I ask you something?” You ask, wiping your mouth with a napkin as you swallow the last bit of sandwich.

“How do I get to Brooklyn from here?”

“You’re in Brooklyn, silly.” He responds and your eyes widen a bit, not thinking you’d get this lucky.

“Sorry, that came out kinda insensitive,” He apologizes, picking up your plate, “It’s not like you have a GPS or anything. Anywhere you’re trying to go in particular?”

You have a flash of a vision, Bucky sleeping soundly in his apartment, as the sun shines through in orange cracks in his blinds. Your mind envisions the building, where it is, what it looks like, and how you can get there. Why is your mind and body wanting to lead you to where Bucky is? If you’re trying to lay low, why does your vision want you to go to what’s the third most recognizable government figure in the country, after the President and Captain America?

“Uhm… to see a friend. I guess I wasn’t trying to go, but I have a lot of… free time now, so. Just don’t know what I’d say to him.” You tell the boy, rubbing your eyes in exhaustion. You’re not looking forward to the rest of the day, or week, or month, or life.

“Why don’t you write a note? That’s what I do; when I don’t think I can say the right thing, I write it instead. I can give you some paper and an envelope.” He offers.

This kid has got to be my guardian angel personified, you think. What are the fucking odds?

“You should take it with you, though. I gotta open up soon, and I’m sure you don’t want to experience the morning rush of this place.” You read my mind.

“I’ll give you a change of clothes, too. Where’d you get that, anyway? Do you hang around dumpsters often? Is that one from a Halloween store?”

“Okay, that’s too much. You’ve already been so kind.” You refuse, ignoring the curious questions that shoot out of his mouth.

“Then don’t take it as me being kind, take it as me being mean. You smell like shit from that dumpster.”

You can’t help but laugh, and oh how good it feels. You never thought you’d laugh again, and here you are, giggling at being told you smell bad by some goth teenager.

Soon enough, you’re walking through the backways of buildings, in a crisp white t-shirt that smells of the cologne of a teenage boy, and note and envelope in hand. It takes you about forty five minutes to make it to Bucky’s apartment building, and it was only slightly less stressful that your walk out of that prison.

Through the glass door, you don’t see anyone at the front desk, so you open the door and step inside.

To your left you see a wall of mailboxes, and one large one at the bottom overflowing with letters and gifts. You take a wild guess and say that that one belongs to Bucky. You’ve heard he’s a pretty popular guy, along with the company he keeps.

You take the stairs to the eighth floor and the fourteenth room, hoping the 814 on that mailbox wasn’t random. You scribble out on your piece of paper, tearing it off and keeping the rest in case you need for another note in the future, or a snack. You bite at the blue bracelet on your wrist before it breaks and stick it in the envelope, tucking in the flap to close it.

You place it on the ground and silently press your ear to the door. You don’t hear him, but you hear the sound of the television, announcing your missing presence and the manhunt around the city. You take that as a cue to leave quickly.

Why you feel such a draw towards Bucky, you’re not sure, but for some reason, you have a feeling that leaving him this gift of sorts won’t come back to haunt you.

Perhaps it’ll even lead to the opposite.

[marithlizard]

Ace Attorney: Rise From the Ashes (Day Three, Trial Former)  (part 6)

Yesterday our heroes messed around at a crime scene their client couldn't possibly have been at, moved and took away evidence, shared information with opposing counsel, and did not figure out what to say at today's trial.  

Look, progress was made, okay? 

At least the prosecution is equally confused.  Hi, Lana.  Yikes they were questioning her all night??  What on earth for?   ...I guess you can't prove an alibi for an imaginary murder, at that.

Lana struck a plea bargain with her interrogators - the truth about the "simultaneous murder" in return for sparing her from execution.   But what will she say? She has no idea about the evidence room  incident, and I don't she feels able to tell the truth about what happened in the parking garage.

(I'd forgotten that Lana has a bandage on her hand.  Was her being wounded mentioned in earlier testimony?  Seems significant. )

We tell Lana we found Jake Marshall's prints on a bloody handprint in the evidence room, and she's visibly shocked.   But whatever is keeping her silent, it outweighs his safety.

"The prosecution is..."  What are you up to,  Edgeworth?  He breaks away from the ritual opening words to announce he will do his goddamned job with impartiality no matter what kind of cheesebrained drivel data he's been given.

Won’t save his career, but I hope it made him feel a bit better.

First witness:  Melodramatic Mailman Meekins,  the "suspect" of the evidence room "murder".   Who sadly does not have an attorney of his own to coach him to shut up on the witness stand.  And did not have a competent bailiff to stop him from bringing his bullhorn.  Ow.

At first Meekins tells the same story he told us yesterday: he was guarding the room, challenged a "suspicious man" who "attacked" him,  fought back and passed out.   When pressed, he clarifies his job was simply to look after the dorky plywood mascot.   (That does seem more like a job someone would actually give him.)  He put it in the evidence room on his first visit.   Then he went back later to get it again (whyyy), saw Goodman on the security camera and rushed in.  

(Working theory:  Goodman was holding the knife from the SL-9 case, and Meekins leaped to conclusions and right onto the blade,  flailed around and fainted.  Goodman was startled and punched him on reflex.)

But maybe we don't have to rely on his garbled account, becuase there's the missing security camera tape!  It was "sent" to Meekins' cell?  Gosh golly I wonder who would have done that.  

Edgeworth is pissed because he asked for the tape  earlier and was told it had been erased.  Gant must have wanted to preview it.  (And alter it? No photoshop, but  I guess he could cut out a bit and splice the ends together. Can that be done undetectably?)

The video pans back and forth,  across the moving mascot in the center each time which is more than a bit surreal.  The toy-like music doesn't help.   We see Goodman pass by, then at his locker. Something falls out as he opens it (the glove?)  Meekins sneaks up on him and there is indeed a  bit of a fight.  Then Goodman is gone and Meekins is slumped against the wall.

Yeah, this was definitely altered.   The locker with Jake Marshall's prints suddenly has something sticking out the bottom of it near the end of the video.  Also, I didn't see either of those bloody handprints, and the fight was nowhere near either of them.  (Did they happen later?)

After everyone recovers from the weirdness of the mascot.  Edgeworth  wants to ignore the video and rely on testimony alone (does he suspect something?)  Back to Meekins of feeble memory.

Who points out that Goodman's face isn't in the video, but that was his fingerprint-coded locker and he opened it.  Fair enough.

Finally we get to check out the video again.   And - HEY.   The light on Goodman's locker was already on before he arrived! Which means it was already unlocked, and anyone could've opened it.   Edgeworth points out that it ought to have locked automatically....but what if it was propped open?

By something thin. A thin thing.  That fell out when obviously-not-Goodman-after-all opened it all the way.  The glove.

(But why do this?  If you've already got a murder frame set up in the parking garage, why go to all  that trouble to undermine it by making it seem the victim was elsewhere at that precise time?)

Edgeworth pooh-poohs my genius finding about the glove.  I sulk. Fine, bring on the entrance log with the list of IDs.  Goodman's ID was used - but I have the lost-item form to suggest he wasn't the one holding it, so there.  

But I can't say so, because the judge interrupts.  And for the first time in five AA cases and counting, the judge has an intelligent, relevant observation.  I am flabbergasted. He's right - this was evidence transferral day, so why weren't lots more people going in and out of the evidence room?

Edgeworth has the answer. This isn't the main evidence  room, just one for "special" cases of extreme violence "involving police staff".   That has disturbing implications for both SL-9 and the case with the screwdriver, doesn't it?   Exactly how did they involve police staff?  Was the *suspect* of SL-9 a police officer?  Is that why it was so fraught?

(...You know, Phoenix ought to have looked up SL-9 in newspaper archives, it must've been a sensation at  the time.  We could've had an exciting minigame about searching through microfiche films! Missed opportunity, Capcom.)

Phoenix pauses before revealing the lost-item form to wonder why Edgeworth hasn't already brought it up, it's not like him.   Is this another piece of information he wasn't giv- oh.  No, it's much simpler than that.  Goodman's ID card itself was found in the parking garage.   How could it have gotten across town in the short time between evidence-room-entry and murder?  

Is this a hole he left on purpose for Phoenix to exploit?  He doesn't look surprised...

"Bravo"?  Is that sarcasm, Edgeworth?  You're outlining what we both know, that the evidence room "murder" is a fake, but you sound far too smug.

Oh.  

He remembered  what we forgot - we're here to defend Lana from the parking garage murder charge, and clearing away all  the evidence room shenanigans lets him focus back on convicting her.  He's not wrong, except the bit where he calls Angel Starr a "trustwrorthy witness".  (Hello, you were sniping back and forth with her about her lies on the witness stand just yesterday?)

Still, it's important to have established that Someone went to a great deal of trouble to impersonate Goodman, get that knife and plant it in the parking garage. (where was it found again? In the car tailpipe,   wrapped in Lana's muffler, wasn't it?) And to synchronize the time with the claimed murder time.   Why?

Edgeworth doesn't object to us calling Jake Marshall as a witness - he's probably well aware  that Marshall slacks off on the job constantly, and expects his testimony to be useless.    Then again, he's the one who gave us the powder to collect Marshall's bloody fingerprints.

Is he using Phoenix as a stalking-horse to collect the information the police won't provide? Do we care, as long as the truth comes to light?

Lana cares.  She thinks we must have Figured Everything Out to be calling Marshall to the stand. and she's not happy about it.  Ema loses her temper, good for her!  For a moment it seems her sister might crack...but Gumshoe lumbers in with his patented terrible timing.

Lana asked him to bring her the SL-9 files, using Phoenix's name.  She wants us to read them! She hasn't lost all hope, despite her stoic act! Yes, yes I do want to read them, thanks - what?

Lana was a *witness* in that case? Not just working on it?

"Special cases of extreme violence involving police staff" indeed. The file is labeled "The Darke killings", so we finally have a suspect name there.

Ema's name is in  the file too??

You could've mentioned that, kid!  Apparently she didn't make the connection despite us traipsing around investigating SL-9 this and that for two days.  The name "Joe Darke" makes her so upset she runs off.  Even Gumshoe recognizes this as a cue to stop being awkward and leave.

[saviwrites]

Cuddle Buddies

Hello lovelies! I've been working on this one for a bit and I really hope you guys enjoy it!

The jail cell was cold that night. You would think I would be used to it by now, but tonight the chill was nearly unbearable. Despite the extra blankets (a gift from the prisoners I was told), I laid there shivering, trying to maintain some semblance of warmth.

After a few minutes of freezing, I sighed and reluctantly got out of bed. The coldness of the concrete floor leaked through my socks, causing another shiver to run through my body. I reached under my bed and pulled out a flashlight, another gift from the others. I wasn't sure where it had come from, but I was glad to have it nonetheless. Staying here for as long as I had, I knew better than to look a gift horse in the mouth. Especially if the horse had a criminal record.

I silently made my way to the barred door and fished out a bobby pin from my pocket. It took days and weeks of begging, but Yancy had shown me how to open and close the cell doors in the prison, making this nighttime journey possible. I listened for the guards, but thankfully they all seemed to be elsewhere.

I gingerly stepped out of my cell and ran towards Yancy's. The halls were pitch black, but thanks to my handy dandy mystery flashlight, I could see exactly where I was going. By the time I reached his cell, I had started to realize how silly I was acting. Why am I doing this again? Then another chill ran through me and I remembered. Oh yeah. Cold. Maybe he could spare another blanket, or tell me where to get a heater of some sort.

I peeked through the bars and saw Yancy curled up on the top bunk, seemingly asleep. I fished out the bobby pin again and picked the lock, keeping an ear out for guards. After a few tense minutes, I managed to unlock the door and swung it open, wincing at the slight squeak of the hinges.

I entered the cell and slowly closed the door before making my way to the bunk bed. On the bottom bunk, Heapass was snoring away, occasionally mumbling in his sleep. I stood on my tiptoes and poked Yancy's cheek once, twice. On the third poke, he opened his eyes.

"Whu..." He said before rubbing his eyes and looking at me. "Oh, hey. What're youse doin' here?"

Just then a violent shiver ran through me, making me almost drop my flashlight.

Yancy sat up a bit, looking at me with furrowed eyebrows. "You cold?"

I nodded. He looked at me for a split second before scooting farther into the bed and patting it. "C'mon, let's getcha warmed up."

I hesitated. This wasn't... exactly what I had in mind. It was against the rules for inmates to share the same bed. I knew that, and I knew that Yancy knew it, but the stubborn cold was so damn persistent.

I glanced down at Heapass, who snorted and muttered something about a gongoozeler.

"Don't worry, he won't wake up. He's a deep sleeper, he is."

Finally, I took a deep breath and climbed up into the bunk bed, turning off my flashlight. I suddenly felt nervous all over again. The bed was incredibly narrow, and I was hyper-aware of the lack of space between us. If Yancy noticed as well, he was much better at hiding his awkwardness than me.

"Jeez, youse colder than a popsicle," He remarked as he wrapped the blankets around us. Like me, he had also been gifted with extra items, though his were slightly more worn than mine.

With some adjusting, we finally found a comfortable position for us both. The downside, it meant that Yancy was almost laying on top of me, making my heart beat faster than normal.

"Feeling better?" He asked softly.

I nodded, my face heating up like a kettle. I couldn't remember the last time I had someone hold me like this. It felt... nice. I was definitely warmer than before.

A moment later, I heard Yancy humming softly. It was the chorus of I don't want to be free, the musical number that he used to welcome me to this place. I felt my eyes growing heavier and heavier.

As my body finally relaxed and I was moments from falling asleep, the tune changed into something I didn't recognize. It was a soft melody, almost like a lullaby. It was the last thing I remembered before falling asleep.

-

BRIIING BRIIING. I groaned as the morning alarm blared, covering my head with the pillow. My least favorite part of the day.

In a flash, I suddenly remembered what happened last night. I sat up and looked around. I was back in my own bed, in my own cell. Was I dreaming? It felt so real though.

"Hey! Get your lazy butt up!" said the guard walking past, "It's time for breakfast!"

With another sigh, I got out of bed and made my way to the dining hall. I saw Yancy there, leaning over the table with a small pencil, scribbling furiously. I got my food and sat down next to him. He quickly folded up the paper and stashed it in his pocket before I could tell what it was. He looked up at me and smiled like normal, but there were slight bags under his eyes.

"Hey there," he said, "Didja sleep good?"

I nodded, wondering what he was doing that was so secretive.

"That's good. Glad to hear."

We sat together quietly, eating our gruel. I wanted to ask about last night, but I couldn't find a way to bring it up. Part of me still wasn't sure if it actually happened. And I didn't want to embarrass Yancy or myself if it turned out I was wrong.

As we brought up our empty plates to the kitchen, Yancy suddenly cleared his throat.

"I think the warden has a new pin today."

I frowned but turned to look at him. The warden was standing against the wall, staring down the prisoners as they ate. Unfortunately, he was too far away for me to check Yancy's claim. I then felt a slight tug on my clothes. I looked back at Yancy, but he just put his plate up and walked away, mumbling something about rehearsals. For a moment, I could've sworn he was blushing.

I reached into my pocket and pulled out a folded piece of paper. I looked back up, but Yancy was long gone. I started to open it, then a loud cough jolted me back to reality.

"Quit holding up the line." the chef barked at me. I quickly got out of the way and ended up back in my cell. I had a few more minutes until the legally allowed activities started. I pulled out the note again and unfolded it.

I didn't want to say anything in the dining room, cause I didn't want to make you feel uncomfortable. But I'm glad that you trust me enough to come to me when you need something. That being said, if you ever get cold again or you just need a cuddle buddy, don't hesitate. Yours, Yancy.

There were a couple of marked-out words besides 'yours' as if he couldn't decide how he should've ended it. I found myself smiling, a bubbly feeling erupting in my chest. I read it a few more times before I absolutely had to leave. Tucking the letter into my pillow, I made my way to the yard, smiling the whole way there.