#i did not expect to have so many tasks pile up on me one after the other

[servegrilledcheese]

this has been the worst sim drop rollout of all time omg i'm so sorry

[edgeray]

Hi ray

Could write dragon! Arlecchino x hunter! Reader who hunts dragon because she was tasked to even tho she didn't wish to do so but little did the reader know that arlecchino is very strong

So when the reader was tasked she was warned by the villagers but what could the reader do but to only obey the orders when the reader met arlecchino trying to hunt her down she failed to do so

Dragon Hunter Mother

(Arlecchino x Fem! Reader)

A/N - Like always, if you want to request something from me again anon, give yourself a name/emoji ☺️ Also, I love this idea. I don't plan out my requests, plot just kinda comes as I write, so let's see what I do with this. I'm assuming you also want reader to be afab as well. Since you didn't say about arlecchino having a human form, I'm just not going to write it. Don't ask me how this turned to be over the limit I said these requests were gonna be. I got carried away with world building and plot. Sorry 😬 . Hopefully this was okay? Honestly, didn't know how I would make it romantic, but I guess I'll put it under romantic? I tried by best anon, feel free to request again if you want me to write it in a different way 🫶. Sorry for taking so long, but here it is!  Content warnings / info - author doesn't know how to write dragons, semi-graphic violence, if it wasn't obvious, Freminet, Lyney, and Lynette make an appearance, 2.6k words 

Stemming from a long line of dragon hunters, it was no surprise that like the rest of your siblings, you would take up the mantle of also being a dragon hunter. Dragon hunting is a service to the kingdom exclusive to only a few noble families like yours, hence why its hunters are practically revered by the kingdom's citizens. Protecting the kingdom, receiving glory after every slaughter, earning a large chunk of the kingdom's money, it's no doubt that many aggrandize and covet to be in the same position. 

You've never wanted to be a dragon hunter. It's an arduous job in a kingdom known for its dragon outbreaks. The Majesty is prompt in requesting dragon hunters, sending them from one corner of the kingdom to the other unhesitatingly, and frequently underestimate the duration that these kill orders take. When the process of dragon hunting involves tracking the dragon, finding the dragon's sanctum, preparing to combat against a dragon, and finally, killing it, it takes at least a week if it's one of the older dragons. The Majesty has high expectations, and it's a struggle to keep up with them. Kill orders were often piled on top of one another, which means immediately after you complete one, it is off to finishing the next one.

It is a job of ruin. When was the last time you've gotten more than a few hours of sleep? The last time you've had a full meal? The last time you were able to have a relaxing bath? 

Killing dragons is not how you would like to waste away your life, slaving away under a duty that everyone idolizes. As you carry on your role, you begin to learn more and more about these flying reptiles; dragons are fascinating, intelligent creatures. It is a shame that many villagers are so terrified of them, dragons actively avoid humans; though for one reason or another, dragons occasionally seek the nearest human civilization, eating farm animals and destroying any shelter or barricade that stands in their way. Perhaps you're just foolish, but you believe that there is a real reason for this behavior, and that there could be a solution to this. 

Until then, you could do little more but heed each order, slaughtering dragon by dragon. Their dying cries plague your dreams every night, leaving you empty and restless. 

You arrive at a village, the emblem on your chest plate that indicates your occupation glints as you step out of the carriage. The village head greets you quickly, settling you down in front of a cup of tea and some snacks, before cutting straight to the details.

“This dragon… I'd be careful. I've heard of you, a genius among geniuses in terms of dragon hunting, but I warn you right now. This dragon is different. Smarter, more powerful than your typical one, I bet. Its fire… even among other dragons, isn't comparable. It can torch the whole village, and it got damn near close to. Cunning bastard as well, it can pinpoint where our sheeps are and it can evade our traps. It disappeared from our village a few decades… we assumed it died naturally, but then it returned again earlier this season.”

“When was the last time it attacked? Do you know what kind of dragon it is?”

“No. We’ve never seen a dragon like it before. I'm not sure if it follows under the kingdom's classifications. It's black and white with three pairs of wings! And its tail… sharp like, like…like a scythe, can slice houses in half! Its claws are just as dangerous too. Can breathe fire, of course.”

Three pairs of wings… that means this dragon is considerably old. Dragons gain pairs of wings after their first set through molting, which only occurs every fifty or sixty months following reaching maturity, meaning this dragon was at least a century old. You grimace. Older dragons are always harder to get rid of. Most of the dragons that you encounter only have one pair, on the rare occasion, two. This is the first time you've been assigned a three-paired dragon.

Its colorings are also strange; you've never heard of a black and white dragon specifically. The tail description, however, isn't very uncommon; it could be a signifier that this is an incredibly rare hybrid among dragon species. If it's as powerful as it's said, and if you consider its age, then perhaps they come from one of the Dynasty species… but a descendent of that species hasn't been seen in many years. If this is true, then of course it wouldn't follow under the kingdom's ordinary classifications of dragons. Still, a hybrid? Mating between different species almost never happens. This really was a special case. And its disappearance? You couldn't even fathom why.

“Do you know at least where it lives?”

The village head turns to his right, pointing in that direction. “If you continue that direction, you'll come across a forest. That's where it goes. We don't know where it lives, we've been too scared to try and find out ourselves.”

You sigh. Well, this wasn't much to work with. “Is there anywhere I can stay?” 

“Yes, yes. There's a room above the bar that's just for you. Free of charge, of course. The food as well. Just please… eradicate this beast.” 

“I'll do my best.” 

—

No matter how many forests you go to, you never become fonder of them. Traversing them was always annoying. Too much greenery to walk through, too many streams and rivers to cross, and just too many damn trees. This terrain is especially difficult to find traces of dragons in. It'd be better to make your own traces then scour through the forest to search for them, hence why you're at a stream, catching as much fish as you can with a net. Fish makes for good dragon bait, though you don't intend to use it to trap the dragon. You doubt any trap you could make in the little time you have could kill or harm the dragon, but it will lure the dragon to you.

You pause to take a break, glancing at the pile of fish you've collected. The smell is starting to assault your nostrils. Ugh. 

You hear a crunch behind you, and you turn. Your eyes widen and you pick up your sword, raising them towards the three dragons that surround you. Adrenaline pumps through you as you stand up, observing the creatures. 

All of them only have one-pair of wings, with similar features and size; they’re as large as bear cubs, if you subtract their tail length, and you realize that they're baby dragons, yet to reach maturity. They have, notably, distinct colorings, but they all share the same black and gray coloring. Perhaps they come from the same hatch? The one to your right has red, almost maroon, splotches over their scales. This one is wide eyed, but its features are relaxed as if playful and curious. The one in the middle seems to be the smallest, fearful as if it’s cowering with its dipped head and the tail wrapping around itself protectively; this one has almost a marigold accent to it. The one to the right is teal, and passive, like it doesn't see you in the slightest. 

Baby dragons are hardly as aggressive or destructive as their adult counterparts, but that doesn't mean they can't pose a danger. Still, you don't want to harm them, not when they haven't done anything that would warrant you to.

The red one approaches, deliberately, sniffing towards your direction. You brace your sword, and it trudges up to you, nostrils grazing against your armor before it nudges against your hand. It then walks past you, its focus deadset on the pile of fish behind you. The two other dragons follow in the red one's lead, and you sigh in relief, placing your sword back in its sheathes.

Baby dragons, three of them especially, are a rare sight, as they're often sheltered in their father's den, and they don't venture out until they've fully matured. This being because they're quite vulnerable despite the threat they hold once they've matured. Eliminating them is a part of your duty, however, you never feel right killing creatures that have just hatched. They couldn't be more than ten years old; they still had a few more decades before they could pose a danger. If they're out like this, it's likely they've been abandoned. Mother dragons often leave their young after childbirth, and the fathers are left to take care of them; it could be that the father died recently. 

Whatever the case, you think that they deserve to live a little longer. Plus, they're kind of cute… 

Although, the more you observe them, the more you feel you should prevent the fish supply you spent all day getting from declining. They seem less cute now. You groan as they eat until there's no more fish, and they turn back to you, croaking as if requesting more. 

What are you, their mother? Your eye twitches in vexation. 

You spend your evening fishing for baby dragons at the river. Un-fucking-believable. Weren't you wonderful at your job? 

You decide to leave the dragons at the river bank as you search for wood to make a campfire. To your slight annoyance and amusement, the young dragons trail behind you. You get random twigs and branches that scatter the forest floor. One of the dragons, the yellow one, picks up a branch in their mouth, before offering it to you. 

Damn it, why did you have to be a dragon hunter? You take the stick in your hand, hesitantly petting the top of its head. This is something you’ve never done before, but you wouldn't mind doing it again. It leans into your hand. You don't deserve this treatment, you hunt their kind. Oh, how you wish you could tell them what you'd have to do once they grow up. Why did you have to be a dragon hunter? You're holding back tears as you continue the petting action. 

Its other siblings, unbeknownst to your existential crisis, follow its behavior, and you've turned the baby dragons into your personal campfire wood carriers. You think dragon trainor fits you better than a dragon hunter at this point, but that profession doesn't grant an affordable life. 

Seating yourself on a tree stump, you build your campfire and light it. You use it to cook a fish over, while you try to fend off said trout from being eaten by the dragons. By the time it's done cooking, the little creatures are exhausated, curling against you as the three fall asleep against your legs and back. You don't want to admit it, but it's a comfortable weight against you. You didn't even know that dragons snore until now.

Peace at last, you think, finally able to eat your fish alone. 

Too soon, too soon. You hear it before you see it, the whipping of winds that you can only associate with the beating of dragon wings as it flies. The sound grows louder, meaning it's heading straight towards you. You stand up, unsheathing your sword and bracing yourself for an assault. Shit, shit, shit, you're not prepared to fight in this territory whatsoever. What was it attracted to? The campfire? The smell of your fish? Or perhaps… you glance at the still sleeping creatures. 

You don't have much time to ponder as the ground shakes when the beast lands in front of you, right on top of the river, its gargantuan form making you tremble. An earth shattering roar escapes its throat, nearly making you tumble back from the sheer force, and your ears ring painfully. 

You've never seen a larger dragon before. You count the pair of wings through squinted eyes. One, two, three. This is the dragon you've been hired to hunt? 

The hand holding your sword doesn't stop shaking, no matter how much you try to control your muscles. The adult dragon nears, and your heart rate pounds louder and louder with each footstep. Black and white colorings? Check. Sharp tail? Check. You know you have to fight it, but how could you possibly? It dwarfs you in every single way possible. 

It swipes its tail at you, and you duck as fast as possible, just barely missing being sliced in half like the trees behind you. Its tail retracts to lunge at you again, and you block the sharp end with your sword, though it just swats you away easily, throwing you across the bank of the river. You land on the gravel with a pained groan, and you scramble to get up, facing the dragon. 

Piercing red-crossed eyes gaze back at you, and you no longer feel like the hunter. Instead, you feel like the prey, and every fiber of your being is telling you to run. You wield your sword again resolutely. If you die, then you die, but you'll die knowing you tried. The dragon tilts its head back, preparing its fiery breath, and you ready your wrist shield. 

Suddenly, a familiar croak comes from behind the adult dragon, and you see the baby dragons rush into the adult dragon, headbutting its feet. The dragon snaps its head back into its normal position, gazing down at the small dragons at its feet. You're afraid that the larger dragon will crush them, but instead it growls. The young ones chirp back, communicating with it. 

You stand there, bewildered, the pieces coming together in your mind quickly. Is the black and white dragon their father? Are they trying to save you? The tension in your shoulders relaxes the slightest bit. The father dragon whips its head back to you, and you freeze, paralyzed under its predatory gaze. Too swiftly does its tail shoot towards you, but instead of impaling you as you prepared, it merely wraps around your midsection, lifting you effortlessly. You drop your sword out of pure shock from being in mid air, and it brings you face to face with the dragon. 

The dragon snarls, baring its teeth, and you think it's the end once you see its pearly whites. Instead, however, it sniffs you, before pausing, observing you more. You're holding your breath, wondering when you will meet your fate. It opens its mouth wide, displaying a row of teeth in its oral cavern. You squeeze your eyes shut but all you feel is something warm, wet, and slimey. A tongue drags across your face, and you cringe, immediately bringing your hands to wipe away the thick saliva. The tail around you loosens, and you fall on your back, grunting from the impact of hitting the floor. 

Okay. Well, you're alive at least, you think, once you get the liquid out of your eyes but it is unfortunately in your hair. If it hasn't killed you yet, then it must mean that it likes you? 

You open your eyes, and see that the dragon lays in front of you, its snout just a feet away from you. Each huff from the dragon blows your hair back with hot air, but you don't mind it. The smaller dragons prance by your side, chirping and croaking with a high-pitched tone. Bemused but just grateful that you've yet met your end, you pet their heads. By the growl from the father, they approve of your action, and your heart melts. You reach out to pet the snout of the larger dragon, and it closes its eyes, further nudging against you before a grumbly purr escapes its throat.

Seems like you've just been forcibly adopted by a family of dragons. You don't think you'll complain that much. 

[moon-lit-petal]

From Chaos to Comfort Pt1

George Weasley x Fem!Hufflepuff!Reader

Summery: George becomes acutely awear that sometimes, people aren't the biggest fans of his and Freds pranks.

Warning: enemies to lovers(?) George fell hard and fast. I tried to do a slow burn but you can tell I gave up lol. Also, Y/N is a little mean to George Ngl

Word count: 2.5k

Notes: I have almost 12k words written already xD But after my 5k Neville fic, I figured I'd take this one a little slower and give myself time to proofread and make adjustments, for now? Chapter One!!also georges face in this Gif omfg

Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

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The quiet halls of Hogwarts were where Y/N felt most at ease—especially in the dimly lit corners of the library or the serene grounds at night, where the only sounds were the wind rustling through the trees or the occasional hoot of an owl. As a reserved Hufflepuff, she preferred these moments of tranquility, keeping out of the spotlight and far from the bustling excitement that so often dominated the school.

Unfortunately for her, Fred and George Weasley didn’t share her preference for peace and quiet. In fact, their favorite hobby seemed to be drawing attention to those who tried to hide from it—particularly Y/N.

On this particular evening, Y/N had settled down in the library with a stack of books, hoping to get some quiet reading done before the day ended. The library had a hushed atmosphere, with only the occasional whisper or the soft turning of pages to disturb the stillness.

But that all changed in an instant.

One by one, the books she had carefully chosen began to glow faintly before bursting into song—loud, off-key, and echoing through the entire library. It started with the first book in her stack, a thick volume of Transfiguration spells, which suddenly belted out a shrill tune:

"♬ I’m a magical tome, filled with spells and rhymes, cast a charm on me, and I'll sing for all times! ♬"

The next book joined in, followed by another, until her entire pile of books formed a chorus. Y/N could feel the eyes of everyone in the library turning toward her as the cacophony grew louder and louder. Laughter rippled through the students around her, and even Madam Pince, the strict librarian, seemed too flustered to immediately react.

Y/N's face flushed a deep red as she frantically tried to shut the books, but they wouldn't stop singing no matter how many times she slammed them shut. The laughter and whispers grew louder with each failed attempt. Her humiliation only deepened when she spotted the identical grins of Fred and George Weasley from across the library, clearly enjoying their handiwork.

That was the last straw. Furiously shoving the singing books into her bag, Y/N stormed out of the library, her cheeks burning with embarrassment. She could still hear the faint echoes of the enchanted books singing behind her as she hurried through the corridors, ignoring the amused glances and hushed snickers from passing students.

"I swear, I’m never speaking to either of them again," she muttered to herself, her fists clenched in anger. She couldn't even tell Fred and George apart half the time, which only made it worse. It was easier to avoid them both altogether, and that's exactly what she intended to do.

But deep down, a part of her wondered if it would be that simple. After all, it was Fred and George Weasley—masters of mischief. Avoiding them might prove to be an impossible task.

----------

In the days following the library prank, George couldn’t shake the memory of Y/N’s reaction. While Fred had laughed it off, pleased with how the prank had turned out, George had noticed something different—something that stuck with him more than he expected. He had seen the hurt flash across Y/N’s face, the way her cheeks flushed, not just with anger, but with humiliation.

At first, he tried to brush it off. Pranks were what he and Fred did. They brought laughter, lightened the mood, and sometimes, yes, embarrassed a few people in the process. It was all in good fun, wasn’t it? But George couldn't quite convince himself this time. For some reason, the image of Y/N storming out of the library, her fists clenched in frustration, kept playing in his mind.

Fred, on the other hand, barely gave it another thought, moving on to plotting their next grand joke. George, though, found himself paying more attention to Y/N in the days that followed. It wasn’t something he did consciously at first. He’d catch a glimpse of her in the corridors, her head down, her pace quick, always avoiding eye contact with others. In the Great Hall, she often sat at the very edge of the Hufflepuff table, picking at her food while quietly observing the lively chatter around her, as if she were a part of the scene but always apart from it.

The more George noticed her, the more his curiosity grew. Why did she keep to herself so much? Why did she seem to go out of her way to avoid people—even more so after their prank in the library? And why, of all things, did her quietness intrigue him?

During one particular afternoon in the library, George found himself sitting a few tables away from Y/N. She was engrossed in a thick book, her brows furrowed in concentration. He watched as she absentmindedly twirled a strand of hair around her finger, completely absorbed in whatever she was reading. There was something peaceful about her in those moments—a calmness that contrasted sharply with the chaos of his own life.

Fred, of course, remained blissfully unaware of George's growing fascination. He saw Y/N as just another target for their pranks, and to him, the twins’ antics were a way of livening up the mundane routines of school life. But George found himself torn. The more he observed Y/N, the more he realized that there was something about her that went beyond the surface—something he admired. She didn’t seek attention, didn’t thrive in the spotlight like so many others did. She seemed content in her own little world, even if that world often seemed lonely.

But Y/N, still furious about the library prank, had no interest in any of the Weasleys—least of all George, who she still couldn’t distinguish from Fred. As far as she was concerned, the twins were a package deal of trouble and mischief, and the less time she spent around them, the better. Whenever she caught sight of George, she would quickly turn the other way or disappear down a different corridor, determined to avoid them both at all costs.

George, however, wasn’t ready to give up just yet. The more Y/N distanced herself from him, the more he found himself wanting to understand her, to know what lay beneath that quiet exterior. Maybe it was guilt, maybe it was curiosity, or maybe—just maybe—it was something more.

----------

The days at Hogwarts had grown increasingly tense for Y/N. No matter how hard she tried, it seemed impossible to escape the pranks that followed her like a shadow—pranks she was certain came from both Weasley twins. Whether it was her quill turning into a puff of glitter mid-essay or her robes suddenly sprouting a cascade of flowers, Y/N felt like a constant target. Every laugh that echoed in the hallways after a prank only deepened her frustration.

And George, always nearby—watching her, noticing her—was no exception in her mind. She never saw him without assuming he was plotting alongside Fred. Every time he appeared, she would tense up, bracing for whatever prank they’d cooked up next. To Y/N, they were the same—partners in crime who found amusement in humiliating others, especially her.

Unbeknownst to Y/N, George had slowly started pulling away from the pranks, his growing guilt making it harder to join in on Fred’s antics. He had tried to distance himself, letting Fred take the lead while he hung back, watching Y/N more than participating in the mischief. But to Y/N, it didn’t matter. She saw him as guilty by association, and every time she spotted him, her resentment flared.

The tension between them simmered under the surface, waiting to boil over. That moment came one afternoon when Y/N, in a hurry to get to her next class, rounded a corner and collided with someone—George.

The impact was sudden, and Y/N’s heart leapt into her throat. Her body tensed, and she flinched instinctively, taking a step back as if expecting an explosion of fireworks or an instant prank to follow. Her breath caught in her chest as she braced for whatever humiliation would come next.

But nothing happened.

George, equally surprised by the sudden collision, raised his hands in apology. “I’m sorry, I didn’t see—”

Before he could finish, he saw it—the way Y/N had recoiled at his touch, the way her eyes flickered with distrust, her whole body stiffening as if she were preparing for yet another prank. His stomach dropped at the realization.

“Y/N, I—” George began, but the words faltered. He could see the wariness in her expression, the way she avoided his gaze, the way her shoulders remained rigid, ready for disappointment. His chest tightened with a pang of guilt. She saw him as no different from Fred, no different from the pranks that had made her the center of unwanted attention.

Y/N didn’t give him a chance to explain. Without a word, she brushed past him, her shoulder grazing his as she hurried away, her head down.

George stood there for a moment, frozen in place, watching her retreating figure disappear down the corridor. Her reaction stung more than he’d expected. He hadn’t meant to scare her, hadn’t meant to make her feel like this. But how could he undo all the pranks that had come before, all the times she had flinched at the mere sight of him?

Fred’s voice echoed in his mind—“Come on, George, it’s all in good fun!”—but it no longer felt like fun to George. Not when he saw how deeply it had affected her. He clenched his fists, determined to show Y/N that he was different, that he wasn’t what she thought he was.

But for now, the tension between them lingered, thick and unspoken, a rift caused by misunderstandings and misidentification—one that George desperately wanted to bridge, even if Y/N wasn’t ready to see the difference yet.

----------

It was another dreary Monday morning in Potions, and the last thing Y/N wanted was to be paired with any of the Weasley twins. But, as fate would have it, Professor Snape announced the pairings, and her heart sank when she heard George’s name called alongside hers.

Y/N shot a glance at George, her lips pressed into a thin line. He walked over to her, offering a tentative smile. "Guess we're partners, huh?"

Y/N barely looked at him, focusing on gathering the ingredients from the shelf. "Looks that way."

George rubbed the back of his neck, sensing her reluctance. "Listen, I know you probably think I’m going to mess this up somehow, but I promise I’ll be serious about this. No pranks."

She finally turned to him, raising an eyebrow. “Is that supposed to be reassuring?”

George chuckled, trying to ease the tension. “Well, considering my track record, yes. I really do want to help.”

Y/N sighed and handed him a few ingredients. “Just don’t blow anything up, and we’ll be fine.”

As they started brewing, the conversation remained minimal, but George kept trying to break the silence.

“You know,” he said, stirring the cauldron, “I’m actually pretty good at Potions. Don’t tell Fred, though. He’ll never let me live it down.”

Y/N gave him a sidelong glance, clearly skeptical. “Right.”

“Seriously,” George said, trying to sound casual. “You’d be surprised.”

Y/N couldn’t help the small smirk that tugged at her lips, though she quickly hid it. “I’ll believe it when I see it.”

As the potion bubbled away, George continued to sneak glances at her, noticing the small expressions she tried to hide. There was more to her than her quiet demeanor, and it only fueled his curiosity.

“I’m not as bad as you think,” he said after a while, his tone more sincere this time.

Y/N didn’t respond immediately, focusing on measuring the next ingredient. “You still think this is all a game, don’t you? Even now.”

George’s smile faded, and for a moment, he looked unsure. “No,” he said quietly. “I really don’t.”

Y/N paused at his words, glancing at him again, this time with a hint of surprise. But before she could say anything more, the potion bubbled over, and they both scrambled to fix it, their brief moment of connection slipping away in the chaos.

----------

Later that week, Y/N was sitting in the library, trying to concentrate on her studies. The library was her refuge, a place where she could escape the noise and chaos of the school—and, more importantly, avoid the Weasley twins.

But just as she was getting lost in the words on the page, a familiar voice interrupted her thoughts.

“Mind if I sit here?”

She looked up, annoyed to see George standing there with an uncertain smile. “The library’s big enough,” she replied coolly. “I’m sure you can find another seat.”

George hesitated, but instead of leaving, he sat down across from her. “I wasn’t sure if you’d talk to me after Potions.”

Y/N scowled, clearly frustrated. “Did it ever occur to you that I don’t want to talk to you?”

“I figured as much,” George admitted, leaning back in his chair. “But I also figured it wouldn’t hurt to try.”

She huffed, focusing on her book again, though she wasn’t really reading. George’s presence was too distracting. He wasn’t like Fred. There was something quieter about him, something that made her defenses waver ever so slightly, though she hated admitting it.

After a few moments of silence, George spoke again. “I’m sorry for everything. I know Fred and I have caused a lot of trouble for you, and...well, you’re probably sick of hearing it, but I really didn’t mean to make things so awful.”

Y/N’s eyes flickered up to him, and she could tell from his expression that he was being sincere. But she wasn’t ready to forgive so easily.

“You think an apology will fix everything?” she asked, her voice sharp. “You and Fred don’t get it. You don’t care how it affects people, do you?”

George frowned, sitting up straighter. “That’s not true. I do care. Fred… well, he doesn’t think before he acts, but I see what it does to you. And I don’t like it.”

Y/N narrowed her eyes, skeptical but slightly softened by his words. “Then why haven’t you done anything to stop him?”

George hesitated, looking away for a moment. “I guess I didn’t realize how bad it was for you until recently. But I’m trying now. I’m not like that, I dont mean to be. I want to be better.”

Y/N’s expression softened, if only slightly, as she studied him. She could see the sincerity in his eyes, but she wasn’t ready to let her guard down yet.

“Then prove it,” she said, her voice quieter now. “Stop making excuses and prove you’re different.”

George met her gaze, determination flickering in his eyes. “I will.”

They sat there in silence for a few more moments, the tension between them palpable. Y/N finally returned to her book, and George didn’t push the conversation any further. But something had shifted between them—a tiny crack in the wall Y/N had built around herself, and George had noticed it too.

Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

[buriedpair]

Jackpots and Closed Doors

MDNI!!! 18+ content ahead!

Jackpot x M/F Reader

There's a split for you to pick your preferred gender!

TW FOR NONCON!!!!!

"Ow!"

Fuck, it's dark. The room is littered with random items Jackpot had thrown around haphazardly in his desperate search. He can't count how many times he's accidentally kicked something or hit his knee.

Irrelevant. He needs to find what he's looking for.

He curses under his breath, finding it even more difficult to get the task done when there's stuff all over the place. Not to mention, the room smells like you. It's making his head spin the longer he remains in the area. But you'll be home soon, so he needs to move.

His heart rate picks up when he finally spots it hidden beneath a pile of clothes near your bed.

A shoe box, scarcely decorated and an ugly shade of orange. He picks it up with gentle hands, unfolding the lid and peeking inside. Within, there's several hundreds of pictures.

You'd made an off-handed joke about having one of these, but he didn't expect you to actually have one.

His breath hitches, feeling himself salivate at the images contained within. Pictures of you in different lewd scenarios.

He feels dirty, but in a good way. Even if he's invading your privacy and stealing things he was never meant to see...

You won't mind, right?

He turns around to leave, the box cradled in his arms like something precious. To him, it is.

When he turns, he makes direct eye contact with your widened eyes, his heart dropping the second he sees you standing in the doorway.

Nobody moves.

After another beat of silence, you turn to leave. You're probably dreaming or hallucinating, no way did you just see Jackpot trying to steal your private pictures from your room at 9PM.

"Ah- Wait!"

Jackpot panics, dropping the box and immediately reaching for you. He trips over the mess on the floor, finding himself unintentionally clinging to your leg.

"Don't leave. Don't-- I-I can fix this. I can make up for it. I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

He whines, moving to sit on his knees and pressing his entire front against your leg, resting his forehead against your thigh.

"I'll make it better."

His hands begin to shake when you attempt to pull away from him, his heart racing as he keeps you in place against him.

"Don't move." He hisses through his teeth, his grip on your thigh firm enough that you're sure it'll bruise. His eyes are still watery as he reaches up to the waistband of your pants.

"Let me fix this."

(FEM READERS!)

His hands dip into your jeans, pulling them down in one quick movement. He shudders. Christ, you're going to be the death of him.

His breath is hot and heavy against your clothed heat, and he can't help but run his fingers across your slit. You flinch at his touch, and it's oh-so satisfying.

He kitten licks the outside of your underwear, the thin fabric the only thing keeping him from being perfectly connected with you, as he always should be.

He pulls the bothersome clothing article down without any further hesitation, simply inspecting your warm, wet pussy for a moment. It's all he'd ever dreamed of and more, and now he has exactly what he'd always wanted.

His mouth latches onto your clit, and he doesn't waste any more time tasting your heat. He whines, the taste sending his senses into overdrive.

He uses his fingers to spread you apart, inserting his tongue inside you and moaning at the feeling of you constricting around it.

He licks your inner walls with the enthusiasm of someone who'd been starved, sucking and prodding to his hearts content.

When you finally cum, he can practically see stars. The taste is more than he could've ever imagined, and he can't get enough.

He licks you completely clean, making sure nothing is wasted when he finally pulls away.

He lets go of you for only a moment to stand and grip your chin, his thumb parting your lips as he pulls you in for a deep tongue kiss.

"Much better... right?"

He doesn't flinch at your lack of response, simply embracing you.

"I love you."

(MALE READERS!)

His hands dip into your jeans, pulling them down in one quick movement. He shudders. Christ, you're going to be the death of him.

His breath is hot and heavy against your clothed cock, and he can't help but run his fingers across your shaft. You flinch at his touch, and it's oh-so satisfying.

He kitten licks the outside of your underwear, the thin fabric the only thing keeping him from being perfectly connected with you, as he always should be.

He pulls the bothersome clothing article down without any further hesitation, simply inspecting your warm, desperately hard cock for a moment. It's all he'd ever dreamed of and more, and now he has exactly what he'd always wanted.

His lips wrap around the head of your shaft. He whines, the taste of all that is you sending his senses into overdrive.

He moves his head up and down, his hand keeping you in place as he sucks you off with enthusiasm. His tongue brushes the underside of your cock, heart hammering in his chest as he takes you in his mouth as far as he can, your head nudging the back of his throat.

When you finally cum, he can practically see stars. The taste is more than he could've ever imagined, and he can't get enough.

He licks you completely clean, making sure nothing is wasted when he finally pulls away.

He lets go of you for only a moment to stand and grip your chin, his thumb parting your lips as he pulls you in for a deep tongue kiss.

"Much better... right?"

He doesn't flinch at your lack of response, simply embracing you.

"I love you."

[judesmoonbeauty]

Alfons Sylvatica Chapter 2 - Semi-Summary

This is a fan translation only. Not 100% accurate. Please expect grammatical errors and translation inaccuracies. This is a SEMI-SUMMARY of each chapter. I am roughly translating this with out much research other than specific lines from certain scenes. Why? Because it's a huge task to translate a main route chapter line by line. So, this is what we're working with, and I appreciate your understanding ♥︎ Cybird owns everything. Re-blogs are appreciated, but please do not post my summaries elsewhere. Minors: Please DNI or consume this content. CW: Dub-Con. Dividers: @/natimiles

Kate wakes up the next morning and finds a shirtless Alfons sleeping next to her in bed. She freaks out and wakes Alfons up in the process who says, “Oh, is it morning already? Good morning, Kate.” She recalls how he came to her room the night before, kissed her and then they went to bed, but no lines were crossed at this point because he knew her body was too tired, but even so did they do other activities that only “lovers” do….she wasn’t sure.

Alfons: Did you have a good dream last night?

Kate: W-wha……from where….

The blurry line between dreams and reality were a shock to her, the fear from last night and the pleasurable kiss they shared was so real, but it still felt like a dream and she couldn’t help, but feel upset. Alfons laughs at her in amusement, and his smile makes her back away from him covering her naked body with the sheet.

Kate: Wow, did you do something to me?!

Alfons: Yes, I did. I did a lot of nice things.

Kate: I didn’t mean that…..!!

She frantically tries to remember why she thought that Alfons was her lover, knowing there must be some kind of trigger. She has a flashbacks to him in her room and the mission prior to that:

Kate: Worried?

Alfons: Yes, isn’t it obvious?

Alfons: Because - you are my lover.

Alfons: You’re dreaming. You’re having a very pleasant dream.

Back to the present, she recalls him touching the nape of her neck and him whispering to her in both instances, and then recalls the pile of dead bodies before he touched her. She mentions that he used his ability on her, and surmises it’s the ability to use illusions. He admits to it and then commends her deductive skills while breaking out in applause. However, he clarifies that his ability is to rewrite perceptions by simply touching the nape of ones neck and whisper, and she asks why he did it to her?

Alfons: Why, because…..it’s fun of course?

Alfons: Poor little robin, thrown into a cesspool of evil.

Alfons: You’re the funniest toy I’ve ever seen.

Kate: …..!! (Kate slaps his cheek.)

Kate: Disgusting……

Alfons: I like your reaction, much better than last nights.

Alfons laughs without straightening his clothes and flutters off her bed, and tells her that if she ever wants to cry again then he’s there for her. She screams “No, thank you!” and throws a pillow at him. Afterwards, she heads to the dining room for breakfast and Alfons is sitting their nonchalantly. She wants to turn on her heel, but she resists and takes a seat. Victor starts talking to her about the mission from the night before, and she asks what happens after she was hypnotized. Did they call the police? William explains to her that in East End there have been many murders, arsons, abductions etc. and yet the police chalk it up to something that “always happens in the slums”.

Kate watches the expressions of those around her: Liam & Harrison listen quietly to the information, Elbert looks down melancholically at it, Alfons doesn’t seem interested in the subject at all, and then there’s those whose eyes sparkle with joy…….“That’s where Crown comes in,” says Victor. He explains that rumor has it that the administrators of the orphanage and poorhouse are responsible for the series of incidents. Last night’s mission was a little prelude to gather information. William says that they are trying to uncover the reason all the administrators are banding together; is it money, ideology, or pleasure? “What do you think”, he asks her.

Kate says she doesn’t know and she can’t of a single reason as to why someone would want to do that, as she recalls the scene feelings well up in her chest making her feel like she’s trapped in a dark place. Alfons chimes in, “Well, you don’t need to know. It’s a hassle.”

Alfons: Some children die in this world without anyone knowing. That means there are some who think they’re nothing more than rubbish to be cleaned off the street.

Kate is stunned by such a statement from him, is this a brazen dereliction of duty despite Crown being tasked with such cases? They stare at each other and he smiles.

Alfons: - It doesn’t matter.

(It doesn’t matter?!)

Alfons: Miss Kate, are you sure? You don't want to hide this.

He taps his own neck and Kate is like, “neck”? Hide what? Liam starts to ask, “Hey Kate, isn’t that….”, and Ellis follows up, “It’s a hickey.”

Kate: What?!

Ellis peeks at her from behind and she covers her neck with the palm of her hand.

Kate: Wh-wh-why....…

Alfons: Well, because……that’s what I did to you, isn’t it?

Kate: …!

Her cheeks flush and Harrison asks Alfons if he’s already touched her? Alfons laughs and asks Kate how he should answer that question, but she is so embarrassed that she can’t say anything. He taunts, “Aw, you can’t say anything?” But, it’s not possible of knowing what really happened last night, and while she is struggling as to what to say, Jude enters says, “What, ya already been devoured? I’m sorry to hear that,” and lets out a loud laugh.

Kate: I’ve not been devoured!

Alfons: That’s terrible…..that you kissed me so passionately, but you were just playing around with me……?

Kate: ….. Weren’t you the one who played with me?!

Liam: Ah.

Harrison: Ahhh.

Ellis: You just admitted it.

Kate: Huh—!?

Alfons: Pfft, ahaha! This is the best, Kate!

Alfons: Victor, will you make her my exclusive?

Kate: What do you mean my ”exclusive”?

Kate wants the situation from escalating any further and Alfons explains that they’d be partners, buddies, a tag-team or whatever she wants to call it. Victor thinks it’s a great proposal after their hot night together, and Alfons says that he must take responsibility for their one night stand, but Kate doesn’t sense any sign of sincerity in his voice. Victor says that he doesn’t care as long as Kate agrees to it, to which, she declines saying she hates the idea. Alfons threatens her with, “Don’t say! If you do, I don’t know if I’ll do that again or not.” She is upset, but it was also her fault for not kicking him out of her room last night as soon as he entered, and Victor warned her that many members of Crown were morally bankrupt.

William makes the suggestion that Kate only accompanies Alfons on his missions and outside of that, she doesn’t need to be around him. Kate still doesn’t like the idea, but it’s better than being with him 24/7, so she agrees and Alfons says it’s fine.

Alfons: Well…..I look forward to working with you, Kate.

[Next] [Master List]

[mouwrites]

I’ve been inspired to try writing for Steven Universe by the lovely @digitalsiience!! I’ve always loved that show, so it was fun to experiment with some different characters/dynamics!!

Word count: 937

Steven Universe - The Agate and The Sapphire (Holly Blue Agate)

You smoothed your skirts as you stood, making your way to the ramp leading down to the hangar bay. You paused in the threshold, turning your head to look at your pearl, who was following close behind.

“You may stay here. They are sending an escort for me,” you assured her. She blinked, giving a little curtsy and staying put as you descended from the ship.

Just as you had predicted, there was a burly gem waiting at attention in the bay. Her narrowed eyes widened when they landed on you, and somehow her rigid posture became even straighter.

“My Sapphire,” she greeted, doing a poor job of hiding her amazement being in your presence. “It would be my honor to escort you to our most esteemed Diamond.”

You gave a single nod, gesturing to the hallway you knew led to the designated meeting room. This was one of the things you didn’t need your mystic foresight to know; you’d been here many times before. Though, admittedly, it had been a while since you visited the human zoo. Testament to this was the fact that you didn’t recognize your escort. She was an Agate; that’s all you could tell.

You followed her through the halls, the silence almost deafening. You never liked the way other gems could go on in such boring quiet; though socializing always did come with its anxieties, to you it was preferable to that horrid noiselessness.

“What may I call you?”

The Agate stiffened, her powerful gait faltering. She clearly hadn’t expected you to speak, and she seemed even flustered. She was looking at you with owlish eyes and darkening cheeks.

“My apologies. I am a Holly Blue Agate.”

“That’s a beautiful name.” And fitting, too, you decided. Her periwinkle skin accounted for the “blue” part, and she certainly looked like she’d be named “holly.” What did that even mean? You didn’t know. But she had strong features and a burly build, and her hair was piled in two rigid cones atop her head. Somehow this seemed like the exact image of what a “holly” should look like.

Her cheeks went darker. Then, waving her hand dismissively, she pressed on down the hall. “I’m one of thousands of Holly Blue Agates. I’m honored that you think our name is… worthy of compliment.”

You tried to think of something else to discuss (the meeting room was still quite a ways away), but Holly Blue Agate was suddenly distracted by a group of giggling guards.

“What have I told you about your tittering?” She snapped, turning on a pin to storm at the small group of Amethysts.

You blinked in surprise, not having expected this. It wasn’t that you were surprised at her outburst; no, that was just another unfortunate part of gem culture (which you also hated). It was more the fact that this gem, rigid as any you’d ever met, cared enough to disrupt her duties for the sake of reprimanding these Amethysts.

You frowned. Not only did you not see the necessity of stopping your task for such a negligible offense, but you couldn’t help but be offended for these Amethysts.

“Come now,” you chirped up, following your escort to the Amethysts. “Don’t be so harsh.”

You pressed your lips together as Holly Blue Agate just gaped at you; the Amethysts were doing the same. You took her by the wrist, giving a gentle squeeze that made her unfurl her fists, and led her away.

“Your excellency,” she balked, “they were—”

You held up your free hand to silence her. “I don’t care about your rules.” Your heart dropped when you realized what you’d just said. Rules were at the very core of gem society, and to denounce them like that… You might as well have just declared yourself a member of the resistance.

“What I mean,” you blurted, quick to try and salvage the situation, “is that… escorting me should be your priority.”

Holly Blue Agate nodded after an excruciating pause. “Of course. You are my priority. My apologies.”

“Don’t apologize.”

She opened her mouth, then closed it again. “You are… unlike the other Sapphires I’ve met. Not that that’s a bad thing, your excellency.”

You weren’t sure how to respond to that. On the one hand, you knew that other Sapphires were certainly more aloof and obedient than you, so you took it as a compliment. But on the other hand… in gem society, to be different was to be doomed to destruction. So you just frowned, grateful that the meeting chamber was coming up on your left.

“Good luck with your meeting,” Holly Blue Agate said, apparently on an impulse, as she darkened in the cheeks and put a hand over her mouth. “I mean… I will be waiting to escort you back to your ship.”

“Yes. I will be looking forward to it.”

You ducked into the room to hide your own darkening face. What had just happened? In all your years of service, nothing like that had ever happened. You’d never behaved so offensively, never betrayed your culture so blatantly. Affection between gems was the furthest thing from normal. You couldn’t believe you’d shown even the slightest of that taboo feeling, let alone to an Agate.

Little did you know that your escort was thinking the exact same thing on the other side of the door. She was conflicted between intrigue and horror, both at you and herself. Despite this, she couldn’t deny the odd little feeling in her chest that bubbled—was it that peculiar thing called excitement?—while she waited for you to come back to her.

Thank you so much for reading,, let me know if you guys would be interested in more Steven Universe stuff!! Take care my sweet doves <33

(divider by saradika)

[redux-iterum]

Charred Legacy: Chapter Five

(AO3 counterpart here.)

Whitecloud’s kindly-delivered orders could only do so much, ultimately. Fireheart and Greystripe didn’t stalk their friend around the territory, at least, nor did they offer advice (since, really, what advice could they give in this situation?) or cheers every time Ravenwing succeeded in a small mentoring task. They did, however, “accidentally” wander by the training hollow and just decide to pop in for a small visit and check on how “all of the apprentices” were doing. If that happened a little more often than it should have, no one said. Mousefur would give them a dry look every time they poked their heads out of the woods and made a pathetic attempt to strike up conversation with her and the others, their eyes glued to Ravenwing and his little white apprentice.

As it turned out, Whitecloud was right. With every visit and reunion in camp, they watched in awe as Ravenwing’s eyes steadily glowed brighter and brighter with focus and energy. He came home and brought Snowpaw to the prey-pile, then greeted his friends with a shaky sigh and a weak twitch of the whiskers, but these gestures graduated from stress to a more satisfied exhaustion.

“How was tonight?” Fireheart would ask, or Greystripe.

Ravenwing would plop down beside them and half-chuff, saying something like, “Snowpaw’s quieter than you’d expect on dry leaves,” or “I can’t even count how many times we had to redo that battle move; he is definitely not a fighter” (that one always cheered Fireheart immensely). Sometimes Snowpaw would come over and drop a woodrat at Ravenwing’s feet, and sometimes he would just bump his head on his mentor’s before trotting off merrily to join his siblings where they sat and ate.

“He’s smart,” Fireheart remarked one night after Snowpaw had pushed a skinny squirrel into Ravenwing’s reach and went back to get prey of his own. “He knows better than we do what to give you after a night of training.”

“And boundless with his energy.” Ravenwing purred and pulled the squirrel closer to his chest. “I swear he got body language down without me having to teach him. Stars, I hardly have to correct him when he’s hunting—he just looks right at me, and I look at his belly or tail, whatever he needs to fix, and he corrects his posture without me saying anything.”

Greystripe’s eyes widened and he craned his head to look at Snowpaw in respect. “You got a way easier apprentice than I think any of us expected.”

“Well, it’s not all that simple,” Ravenwing said, following Greystripe’s line of sight. “He’s still deaf. Tonight he nearly walked right into Snakerocks because he couldn’t hear me. I had to catch him and lead him away before he woke up an adder.” His eyes were affectionate regardless. “And we’re still figuring out how to communicate more easily. I have to do a lot of exaggerated poses and faces, and sometimes he gets confused anyway.” With his jaws halfway open to bite down on the squirrel, he looked back to his friends. “Actually, that reminds me: what do you think says ‘badger’ more? This—” he wrinkled his brow and set his head level with his shoulders, his ears perked upright “—or this?” He flattened his ears sideways and uncreased his forehead. “I’m trying to get the look of a badger’s head, I think that’ll make it easier to understand.”

Fireheart hummed thoughtfully. “Well, the wrinkling does look like their head-stripes a bit.”

“I’d say do the latter,” Greystripe replied. “That forehead thing’s hard to do. You want everyone to be able to sign it, right?”

“Good point.” Fireheart nodded and said to Ravenwing, “Do the latter, then.”

“Thanks.” Ravenwing pulled off a bit of meat and chewed, then swallowed, adding, “Earlier, he scented a badger by the border and wanted to know what it was. I couldn’t exactly just walk him up to the thing, but I didn’t know what to call it. And mouth-movement is hard for him to follow if you’re talking too quickly or you’re saying a word he doesn’t know.”

Greystripe grunted, his mouth full of pigeon. He barely swallowed it down before talking. “It seems like you’re having fun, honestly. Are you?”

Ravenwing’s eyes unfocused for a moment as he thought the question over. After a bit of silence, he looked back to his friends, eyes bright again. “Honestly? Kind of, yeah. I mean– like– I’ve been watching everyone else really closely, to see how they teach, and I get stressed when it’s something new I have to show him, especially when I’m not good at it. But it’s, like, a fun kind of stress? Like I’ve been given a riddle and I have to solve it before midday. Does that make sense?”

“That makes total sense,” Fireheart said, his relief stretching his face into a beam at his friend. “We’ve been worried that this was too much for you.”

“I mean it was, initially, but…” Ravenwing let out a breath that was much steadier than normal. “It’s just gotten easier. Watching Mousefur and Dustpelt do it helped. They’re both really good for first-time mentors.”

“What about Willowpelt?” asked Greystripe.

Ravenwing looked around camp cautiously and leaned in to his friends, keeping his voice low. “She’s fine, but it’s pretty obvious she’d prefer to be doing something else. I don’t think Brackenpaw has noticed yet, thankfully. He’s just enamored with the forest. And always asking when we can visit the other territories. It’s a miracle Willowpelt can get him to come home and not jump in the river to see where it goes.”

Fireheart snorted and Greystripe shook his head in amusement, saying, “That little ant is going to get in trouble one of these nights.”

“Oh, Brightpaw is way worse.” Ravenwing dropped his voice even further into a gossipy whisper. “Always trying to sprint after a deer or chase fox-scent to fight its owner. She and Thornpaw are very into battle-training, and they just keep tackling each other when we have downtime. And you should see Brightpaw try to climb every tree we pass by. She’s awful at it, honestly, but it’s really funny. Poor Mousefur can’t relax for a moment. But I think she likes it. She always looks really amused when chasing after her.”

Greystripe snickered. “Where did these two get that energy? Frostfur and Lionface weren’t exactly adventurous.”

“Maybe they—” started Fireheart, but a noise interrupted him. He turned his head to the nursery.

For the first time in a month, a massive golden molly was straining to squeeze out of its entrance.

“There she is!” Greystripe said, and immediately gave Fireheart a tickled look as he jumped to his feet and darted across camp, leaving his half-eaten prey behind.

“Mira!” he called, barely remembering to slow down and stop.

The matriarch, Goldenflower, didn’t waste any time either, crying, “Honeymouse!” and greeting him by rubbing her cheek on top of his head, purring loud enough to drown out the rest of camp that was trying to greet Goldenflower as well.

Fireheart drew back to look up at her, tail curling. “It’s been forever! You must be excited to be outside again.”

“Oh, I’d live my life entirely in the nursery if I could.” Goldenflower gave him a lick on his ear. “But then I wouldn’t see you, would I?”

“Good to see you!” Speckletail called, approaching with Teaselfoot behind her.

Teaselfoot cocked his head teasingly. “Your kits finally forced you out of there, huh?”

Goldenflower twitched her whiskers. “They’re ready to come outside and meet their Clanmates.” Her voice leaned into sternness. “Be kind to them, alright?”

Teaselfoot blinked in surprise. “Of course!”

Fireheart caught a glance at Frostfur, and her face was… oddly tense. If he didn’t know any better, he’d say she looked a little afraid. Afraid of what?

Goldenflower turned her head back to the nursery’s entrance and murmured something sweetly into the darkness of the den. An indistinct voice, high and soft, answered her, followed by scuffling of the densely-packed soil as a pair of kits came out, one after the other. The first was an impressively big tortoiseshell-tabby covered in splashes of pale ginger and warm brown, with an already-bold face and immensely fluffy fur. The second…

The second…

Fireheart stared as a dark brown tabby, solidly built and with big paws, carefully maneuvered around his mother. He had stark stripes and his claws, almost too long to be fully retracted, curled on the sand and parted it neatly into lines.

He looks exactly like his father.

Fireheart chanced a look at his Clanmates. Even Teaselfoot was stiff in shock, all jovial warmth gone from his face. Speckletail stood still, and when Fireheart looked at his friends, they stared with open mouths. Frostfur had her head ducked in discomfort.

Goldenflower had a face of very thin happiness, poorly concealing a protective glaring light in her eyes. The molly, the tortoiseshell, stood beside her, looking up at her in confusion, while the tom hid a bit behind his sister, the many eyes on him turning him shy.

Fireheart didn’t let the silence continue any further; he stepped towards the kits and bent down to their eye level, purring. “So you’re my brother and sister!”

Goldenflower’s glare blew out and she looked down at him gratefully. “Bramblekit, Tawnykit, this is Fireheart. He’s your big brother.”

Tawnykit did not look particularly impressed, going by her eyes scanning Fireheart flatly, but Bramblekit cautiously stepped out from behind his sister and sniffed Fireheart’s nose, his voice almost as soft as his brother’s when he murmured, “Hello.”

Fireheart immediately lowered his own voice and kept his eyes creased and friendly, careful not to make direct eye contact, as Bramblekit shrank away a bit when he did. “I’m really happy to meet you at last. I’ve been waiting since you were born—I didn’t get to visit you before now.”

Bramblekit tilted his head. “Why?”

Fireheart’s mind scrambled for a reason that wasn’t the true, dark one. “Well, too many cats in the nursery can upset the kittens and the mothers. Even someone as small as me makes it too crowded.”

Tawnykit eyed Fireheart, like she was scrutinizing him. Bramblekit, at least, seemed content with the answer and nodded, mumbling, “Okay.”

Fireheart glanced back at his Clanmates. Their initial shock seemed to have worn off, though a few still looked a bit disturbed. Several cats slowly approached as Goldenflower gently nudged her kits forward, some greeting the twins and some speaking to Goldenflower herself.

Fireheart, relieved, backed up a bit to give them all room. Bramblekit watched him go with wide eyes, but Tawnykit came to stand by him and nosed his ear, making him straighten up some and respond to the adults in a slightly louder voice.

They’re Goldenflower’s, alright, Fireheart thought affectionately. Big and fluffy. They’re going to be taller than me by the time they become apprentices. I wonder who will mentor…

With a feeling like spider crawling up his spine, Fireheart sensed eyes on him. He looked this way and that, trying to find the cat responsible. His eyes settled on the most shaded part of camp, and glinting in the dark were a pair of furiously blazing yellow eyes.

Darkstripe, once again. He glared directly at Fireheart, tail twitching.

Fireheart grimaced. It wasn’t that he wasn’t used to Darkstripe glaring at him with all the hatred he could muster. This time, it was just his happiness draining out of him and into the sand, when he had been so excited to see his Clan family.

I get it, he thought, stifling his irritation at the drastic shift in mood. You hate my guts. Could you at least try to be more subtle about it?

Out loud, he said (a bit loudly so he could be heard from a distance), “Nice to see the kits, huh? I’ve missed Goldenflower.”

Darkstripe’s lip twitched now. He lowered himself into a half-crouch, his fur flared.

Fireheart half-anticipated being attacked, so he simply gave the warrior a nod and returned to Goldenflower as the crowd dispersed one by one. Bramblekit noticed Fireheart first as he hid behind Tawnykit, emerging with a look of relief.

“It’s a lot, I know,” Fireheart said kindly when he was close enough and the Clan had spread out again. “But you’ll like it when you get older. We’re all just very excited to meet you both.”

Tawnykit yawned. “I’m hungry.” She pawed her mother. “I want a mouse.”

Bramblekit brightened up immediately. “Yeah. Can we have a mouse, mi?”

Goldenflower looked down at them lovingly. “Just a couple bites, loves. You need to chew it.”

“Oh!” Fireheart straightened his posture. “I can get it. I think I saw a fresh one earlier.”

“We’ll go with you,” Goldenflower said, and stood, touching her nose to Fireheart’s forehead. “I’ll admit, it’s nice to walk around again.”

“I can imagine!” Fireheart walked with her, the kits waddling along at their hocks. “You must take up half the space in the nursery.”

Goldenflower chuffed. “I’m not that fat, honeymouse.”

“I just mean you’re, well, generally big. Fur and muscle and motherly plush.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment.” Goldenflower stopped as they reached the prey-pile and looked at her kits, down at her front legs. “Now, let Fireheart pick out the mouse, okay?”

At the prompt, Fireheart hurried forward and scanned the admittedly-small pile. He found the mouse he’d mentioned, still fresh and soft, and picked it up by the tail. He turned around, stepped up to his siblings and gently lowered it at their feet. They sniffed it with sparkling eyes and then looked up at Goldenflower.

“You have to peel off the fur to get to the meat,” she explained, a look of serene delight on her face. “Can you do it?”

“I can,” Tawnykit said immediately. She gripped the side of the mouse with her tiny, tiny teeth and yanked. The mouse flopped onto its other side and she dropped it with a frown.

“Go like this,” Fireheart said, putting a paw on the mouse and miming biting it. “Hold it in place.”

Tawnykit nodded gravely, like he had just given her the most important task in the world, and copied him. Bramblekit helped by putting his wide paw on the mouse as well, and with the combined efforts, Tawnykit succeeded in stripping a wide chunk of the skin and fur off of the prey. The kits took a heartbeat to sniff the meat before hesitantly tasting with a lick, and then chomping down ferociously.

“Not too fast, loves, you’ll give yourself a stomachache!” Goldenflower leaned in and carefully pawed their backs. “Only a couple bites, now.”

As the kits ignored her, the sound of shuffling hit Fireheart’s ear. He looked up from the scene to see Bluestar entering camp and blinking wearily.

“Evening!” he said brightly. “Bluestar, come look.”

The leader squinted at him, but padded over to him. “What do I need to see?”

Fireheart drew back and gestured with his paw to the gobbling kits.

He expected some sort of reaction—it was hard to ignore Bramblekit’s appearance. He did not expect Bluestar to flinch so hard that she almost lost power in her back legs and stare at Bramblekit in horror. Her fur along her spine and tail bristled.

“Bluestar?” Fireheart asked hesitantly. “Are you alright?”

Goldenflower’s eyes snapped up to her leader. She shuffled a bit closer to her kits, a defensive near-glare zeroed in on Bluestar.

Bluestar did not appear to notice her. She was staring at Bramblekit, mouth slightly open like she was trying to speak.

Fireheart, not sure exactly what to do but desperate to do something, hurried up to her and positioned himself to block her view. He spoke a bit louder. “Everything alright, ma’am?”

That seemed to do the trick. Slowly, Bluestar settled down, her eyes finding Fireheart’s. He gave her a pointed-but-sympathetic gaze. With that, her fur flattened and she cleared her throat.

“It’s good to see you, Goldenflower,” she said slowly, looking at the matriarch. “Your kits… your kits are lovely.”

Before either of them could respond, she nabbed a vole and turned, trotting with some speed away from the little family and back out of camp, a few uncomfortable and confused faces watching her go. The apprentices whispered to each other and Speckletail murmured something to Teaselfoot.

Fireheart bit the inside of his cheek.

Oh, boy.

[writingintheshadowsforever]

The Angels Brought Me Back to My Loves

"Can you run it back for me one more time?" You asked the young boy sitting across from you.

His name was Diego, and his loyalty to you was undying and unwavering. You don't remember doing anything to earn such devotion. But that was the problem, wasn't it. You didn't remember a single thing when you woke up from a six month coma.

Not your name.

Not your profession.

Not your powers, which seemed to be dormant since you awakened. Considering you haven't been unable to summon even a spark of electricity. No matter how many times Diego and the other kids tried to motivate you.

Not any friends, family, or significant others you might have.

You couldn't remember a single thing about your life, and the only information Diego could provide you with was. The brave and daring chronicles that began with you breaking into an evil scientist's base of operations to rescue them. And ended with you taking down their number one solider with the power to move the earth itself.

You were pretty sure he exaggerated certain parts of the story, but you never tired of hearing it. Hoping it would somehow help restore a memory or two. If you were lucky enough, all of your memories would come back.

He recounted the story again, breaking down every single detail. No matter how big or small, even throwing in little things he had forgotten about. Or just didn't think were that important watching you carefully. To see if any of it was doing any good and brought a memory out.

But nope, there was no surge of images flashing through your mind. Like you hoped for, you listened with intent, but nothing came back. It was pointless just like the last seven times.

You expected him to grow frustrated at some point with repeating the same tale over and over. He never did, though. Instead, Diego got to his feet to walk crouch down beside where your head was buried in your hands. He placed a comforting hand on your knee and said the same words over.

"Don't worry Avenger, we'll get there somehow or someway. I can feel it."

And there it was that one word that did seem to resonate with something. Deep buried inside of you, the key to bringing it all out. But as soon as you tried to grasp it. It vanished out of your reach.

Avenger the one word that meant everything to you. Whenever someone spoke it or referred to you with it. Your heart beat a little faster. It meant something. There was purpose behind the title, and it was the one thing that you focused on. You might not remember who you were and what your life was. But you were sure of one thing, and it was going to have to be enough for now.

You were an Avenger.

Two Months Later

The rest of the story goes as follows after the three kids lugged you back to the small town. The townspeople became worried the evil scientist would return to take vengeance upon them, and this time you would be in no condition to stop them. With that fear lurking in the back they came to the decision it was best to flee while they had the chance. The only problem being getting you back to the Avengers.

Reaching out to the Avengers was no easy task like it used to be back when the team was actually put together, and had their own system of answering distress calls. Things never really got back to normal after the Avengers disbanded over the Sokovia Accords, and the aftermath of the Battle of Thanos just made things worse. The remaining heroes were scattered and really just doing their own thing these days. If countries outside of the U.S. wanted to get in contact with an Avenger for help. They were forced to go through the government and sometimes the letters were just thrown in random pile by an agent. And it wouldn't be handed off to an Avenger until one of you came by looking for an assignment, or when Sam would go there to pick up all the Avenger mail.

The townspeople didn't have the luxury of waiting around for months for the Avengers to come to the rescue this time. So they took you with them into hiding, and a few weeks later they found an abandoned village to settle into and call home. While Chloe's healing powers might've been enough to bring you back to life. The little girl wasn't strong enough to heal your injury completely, so the small team of doctors, and one surgeon had to work around the clock to keep you alive. Apparently you had coded at least two more times, but they were able to resuscitate you.

When you finally woke up from your six-month coma the entire village rejoiced. Even though you were suffering a serious case of memory loss they were just happy to see you awake, and moving. Although the moving thing was limited to just lifting your arms and turning your head by yourself. A few weeks went by before you were able to ditch the wheelchair, and even then you still had to use a cane to walk.

During it all, Diego was a Godsend staying by your side through it all, and constantly challenging you to push yourself to get better and better everyday. When you were at your lowest wanting nothing more than just to give up. You were still waiting for the day where he finally gave up, and moved on with his life. The other two kids and his mother laughed whenever you made a comment about him growing tired of you one day. All of them insisted Diego looked up to way too much, and felt in your debt even if he had saved your life. Oh and then there was the other reason you had to keep trying no matter how pointless it all seemed. Kai and Chloe neither of them were from this country instead both were relying on you to get them home back to their families. The most frustrating thing about recovering your memories is how random ones pushed their way to the surface caused by the smallest hint of familiarity. The scent of your favorite food hitting your nostrils as you limped past a random home. Suddenly you were sitting at a circular table stuffing your face with a sandwich, so messy the meat inside was falling out onto the wrapper below. The person next to you with his head propped up on his own fist took the time to chastise you from such sloppy mannerisms.

Diego convincing you to spar with him one day, a friendly practice fight ending with him pinned face down to the ground. Your knee digging into his back, and his arm wretched upward at a painful angle. The sparring session was all fun and games until you pulled some lethal move the boy had no chance of dodging from muscle memory.

But while those occurrences had you wishing for your memory to come back. It was one memory in particular that left you longing for the feeling of it long after it was gone. It happened on a hot and humid day the rising temperatures so dangerous not even Diego was willing to risk the heat stroke to get you out of the house. But what the heat in his home so much worse was his mother's decision to bake some goodies. The activity had both you and him seeking solace at the neighbor's house. A nice family who were familiar with you for they were the ones to house you for the duration of your mission.

Once the pastries were done and cooled off his mother was kind enough to drop some off to both of you with a wide smile. While making a comment about the two of you leaving her to suffer in a hot kitchen alone like a servant. Diego planted a kiss on his mother's forehead before shoving the sugary cake in his mouth. You took a tentative bite, savoring the rich and sweet flavor as the white powdery sugar coated your tongue and sides of your mouth. Diego pointed at the mess with a chuckle, and in that moment another person's laughter flooded your brain along with an unfamiliar voice referring to you with a tone of endearment. Both voices belonged to that of a different woman, but your body had the same reaction regardless. Your heart started beating a little faster as your grip on the funnel cake loosened so much. It fell from your fingertips to the floor while you did your best to hold onto the fleeting sounds that had already faded away back to the deep crevices of your mind. Where all your memories were awaiting for you to find a way to unlock them. You grew so desperate to summon those voices again you didn't think twice about eating another sweet, but nothing happened.

No soft laughter this time, or woman calling you something other than your name. But the way she said it told you whatever the word stood for. It wasn't anything bad but the opposite if anything she said in such a loving way you yearned to her say it again. You needed to hear her say it again the way you needed air to live. This was the first memory to hint there was someone out there thinking you were dead. Someone who saw you as the most important person in the world. Someone who's entire world fell apart when you didn't come back from the mission. Someone who might still be waiting for you to come home holding out hope that despite the fact. Its been more than eight months since you disappeared somehow you were still out there. And you were with newfound determination to make it back to them no matter what.

Another week passed filled with more random memories coming out of blue triggered by the simplest of actions, or anything related to smell or taste. One of them did do some good helping you remember your name finally.

Thanks to the physical therapy Diego put together with the help of the doctors. You were able to get rid of the cane and was back to walking on your own without any assistance. This encouraged both of you to start taking your training a bit more serious hoping to get your powers to come back out. But unfortunately any attempt to use summon your powers failed no matter what the two of you tried. The danger tactic failed. The believe in yourself and go for it speech got you nowhere. Even you touching a faulty wire hoping the connection would spark something did nothing. The frustration over the lack of progress continued to build to you finally hit your breaking day. You stormed off right in the middle of a session with Diego.

The kid let all the random items floating high up in the air waiting to be shot down by your electricity fall back to the ground. He called out your name begging you to come back, you were tired mentally and physically. Not wanting to let the kid down, but knowing if you pushed yourself any harder for the day only to come up empty-handed. Would lead to a inevitable meltdown that neither of you would escape from unscathed from. You kept going not sparing him another glance.

Eventually nightfall came bringing quite the thunderstorm along with it, and while most of the townspeople let the sound of the pounding rain with the rumbling thunder lull them into a deep slumber. One determined little kid did the opposite, sneaking out of his home to make the journey to yours. The storm was so powerful you weren't able to tell the difference between the knocking at your door, and the raindrops slamming into the roof. It was his familiar disgruntled yelling that made it possible for you to distinguish the difference finally, and then you were dragging yourself out of your warm and cozy bed to. Yank the door open and drag the young boy into your home with a firm hand on the back of his neck.

"Diego what the hell are you doing outside? Did you not see the mini hurricane raging on out there?" You scolded him throwing in a smack upside his head for good measure.

The action didn't faze or kill his mood in the slightest. He looked up at you with a massive grin plastered on his face. "Yeah and do you know what that means?" He countered your question with one of his own.

The tone of excitement in his voice bewildered you just as much as his presence here. "Usually it would be a great night of sleep for normal people."

Diego shook his head. "Well you're not exactly normal and this is your chance."

"My chance to what? You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion.

He groaned, rolling his eyes as if it should be obvious. "This is the perfect opportunity to reawaken your powers. A thunderstorm like this means giant lightning bolts if you get struck by one. It could be the jumpstart they've needed to come out all this time."

Now you understood his excitement. the process of trying to your electricity powers to activate again hadn't been easy, and ended in failure more than once. The most you were able to do these past couple of weeks was generate a few sparks in the palm of your hands. "Didn't we already try that?" You reminded him thinking back to the faulty wire he had you touch. The only thing it accomplished was a brief flickering of lights in the house while you were hit with a tiny jolt of power. It was very anti-climatic and kind of embarrassing if you would say so yourself.

"Oh come on, comparing that tiny shock to a lightning bolt is like comparing a candlelit flame to a raging inferno." Diego scoffed following you into the living room where you flicked on the switch. "If anything can give your powers that jumpstart its this" he insisted almost pleading at this point.

Even if you wanted to argue with the kid it wasn't possible while you might not be able to summon or generate electricity beyond a few playful sparks. You could still feel the hum of it, and how it powered every little thing in the village. But tonight everyone had their electronics turned off in fear of a attracting a stray lightning bolt. So the hairs on the back of your neck shouldn't have been standing up the way they were, and the powerful hum that had your entire body tingling with anticipation should've been way less stronger. Instead it was one of the strongest pulls of electrifying power that you felt since waking up. Your body craved it more than anything so what were you waiting for?

"What if it doesn't work? What if it fails like everything else?" You asked aloud realizing it was the fear of failure holding you back. The fear that you were going to stuck like this forever.

"It won't" Diego exclaimed with nothing but confidence.

"You don't know that it won't" You argued unsure.

Diego stared at you with disbelief and for the first time since you woke up. He looked at you with disappointment, releasing a huff in frustration. "It doesn't matter y/n its worth the risk" he said, standing his ground with his hands placed on his hip.

"Damn it y/n if you're not willing to do it for yourself then do it for whoever has you walking around here like a lovesick puppy. They have to be worth it, right?" Diego pressed you even more when you didn't answer fast enough for his liking. His comment at the end got your attention as your head snapped upward with your eyes zeroing in on him.

He held up his hands to keep you calm. "I've noticed a change in your behavior since that day my mom baked those funnel cakes. I don't know what memory it brought up, but I know whatever it was you've been trying kinda hard to make it come back. The key to unlocking your memories might be connected to your powers y/n."

It turns out Diego was more determined to help you get your powers back to full strength than you knew. The kid had a plan just in case this exact opportunity ever presented itself. He already scoped out the area finding the perfect vantage point for you to try and call down a lightning bolt. The strong winds and blinding rain slowed the two of you down on your way, but about forty minutes later. You stood perched on the edge of the cliff with quite the view below of a wider and more dense forest. But tonight in this raging storm the trees before were bent from the force of the gales. Leaves were ripped free from the branches swirling throughout the air. Some of them forming a tornado of leaves it created a haunting sight.

Your eyes drifted up to focus on the darkened sky that casted nothing but shadows upon the land. Every now and then it lit up with a flash of lightning, and with every bolt you felt your heart pull towards it. Diego stayed back hiding behind the trees hoping it would shield him for the wrath of the storm. It didn't matter if the lightning bolt did splinter them you weren't going to let anything happen to him. Either this plan was going to work or you were going to shocked with enough bolts to put you back in a coma.

You took a deep breath, and exhaled slowly preparing your mind and body. The lightning bolt shouldn't be able to hurt you, but then again you couldn't be to sure of your immunity with the majority of your abilities laying dormant inside of you. But it wasn't fear that you felt as the hairs on the back of your neck stood up, or when your hair started to frizz. You were filled with excitement and a sense of impatience as if this is exactly what your body had been craving. This was going to work. It had too.

Deep down inside the connection was still there buzzing with a low hum. A bolt of lightning shot from the sky grazing the forest below, and you were sure the strike took a tree down. Another one followed not too far behind, and the only difference was this one was a bit closer. It was as if the storm felt your presence and was challenging you to tame it. It raged on with the winds picking up greater speeds your hair flowing behind you, and your jacket along with your shirt was lifted from your body letting the cool air hit your skin. The rain started coming down a little harder, clouding your vision. The storm had turned into a ferocious beast intent to knock you down, but you stood your ground. Planting your feet on the edge of the cliff determined to not give it a single inch. The elements weren't going to bend to your will.

Good thing that wasn't your intention because you knew all too well some power just couldn't be tamed. Instead you wanted to become one with it again, and with you let out an agonized cry spill out of your mouth. A plea you were so desperately hoping would be answered. Digging deep down inside you searched for your power urging no commanding it to come back to you. Lightning flashed in the sky overtaking you with its strength. Teasing you with how close you were to colliding with it. You felt a small surge of electricity and sparks of it began to dance in your fingertips. Grabbing a hold of that power you refused to let it go. Expanding your connection to it focusing on the immense source of power in the sky above.

A white hot bolt of lightning shot from the sky colliding with your body. This time lighting you and the ground beneath your feet up as well. For a solid two seconds your were encased in a tomb of three hundred million volts. Diego watched from the distance amazed but still fearing for your well-being. Your body wasn't convulsing or anything, but instead remained still. He continued to hang back in the safety of the trees honoring his promise to you. To not get involved no matter what, and to not attempt to pull you out of the pathway of the lightning. This was his plan after all.

And it was working because yes for a mere second you were in unimaginative pain. It felt as if the volts of electricity was seeping into your skin, worming a path throughout your entire body to destroy you from the inside. Then the pain faded away and you became more alive since waking you from the coma. When the surge hit your brain the flush of memories hit way too fast dropping you to your knees. As you watched your entire life playback like a movie, only for it to stop short. You growled in frustration trying to push more power to the circuits in your brain to summon the rest, but the lightning bolt had served its purpose, and seemed to just evaporate into thin air.

The once brown and rocky ground you were standing on was now charred black. A circle of small flames danced around your form, and the sound of Diego calling your name reached your ears.

You lifted your upper body upright remaining on your knees taking deep breaths in and out. Sparks of blue electricity were now crackling around your entire body. Your powers were no longer dormant, and now you had the majority of your memories back.

It worked.

"Do you really have to go right now?" Diego asked, hovering by the entrance to your bedroom watching you stuff what few belongings you possessed into a duffle bag.The two of you returned from the journey into the mountains not too long ago, and the night was still young. It was going to be at least another three to four hours before sunrise, and while it would've been more ideal to wait until then to depart from the village. You found yourself unable to wait any longer to get back to your life, and your friends. No your family because while none of them weren't related to you by blood.

The bond you shared with the Avengers was an unbreakable one, and you knew without a doubt that Sam and Bucky spent the past eight months. Blaming themselves for your disappearance, and presumed death, especially Sam considering this was exactly the type of mission. He would've done everything in his power to convince you not to go on alone. Oh and that was another thing while the lightning bolt managed to restore your powers somewhat, and awaken the majority of your memories. Not all of them had returned, and there were still blank spaces you needed to fill.

The people in this village had your gratitude and you would be forever in their debt, especially Diego's, but if you were going to get back to full strength, and recover all of your memories. It was time to go back home no matter how hard it might be to say goodbye.

"Yeah kiddo, the faster I get a move on the faster I get back home plus I need to make a quick stop on the way." You told him slinging the duffle bag over your shoulder, the action caused a burst of agony to shot through your body. Somehow you managed to mask it with a tight smile, not wanting to give him anymore ammo to convince you to stay.

"Fine but just promise me one thing" he said, straightening his body to make himself look taller.

You quirked an eyebrow at him with a grin. "Yeah go ahead."

"One day when the Avengers are like looking for new prospects to join the team. You'll remember me, and come back." Diego said, trying to keep his usual confidence, but you noticed the worry in his eyes. Worry that you were going to move on with your life, and forget he ever existed.

"Awww Diego" You chuckled, ruffling his hair. "Of course I'm coming back for you, and I promise its not going to be like twenty years from now or something. It'll be soon after all I still got to get Kai and Chloe back home."

"And what about the bad guys?" "I wouldn't worry too much about them the Avengers probably took care of them sometime after I disappeared."

Eight Months Earlier.

The alert didn't come from you instead it came from Wakanda.

The crazy thing about it was Sam had been thinking about sending Bucky in after you to just to make sure everything was going smoothly. The super solider finally got Valentina off his back, agreeing to join her little anti-Avenger squad. As long as she promised not to interfere with his life, or more like personal vendettas. There were still plenty of names on his list that he planned on crossing off.Just as Sam reached for his cell phone to reach out to him, the giant screen sitting in front of him came to life on its own. On the other side of the screen was a face he knew all too well, and she didn't look happy. Nor did she have her usual calm and focused demeanor about her.

He could see the distress on her face and was on his feet in seconds. "Ayo what's wrong?"

"Y/N do you know her location?"

"Not exactly she's on a mission in Costa Rica." He answered, a sense of dread coming over him.

"I'm sending you her coordinates now, we need you to get moving at once. You can reach her faster than we can" Ayo replied.

Sam threw his hand out to get her to pause before hanging on. "Do you want to tell me what's going on?"

"She's in danger" was the only thing she would tell him before hanging on.

A few hours later the part of forest where your kimoyo beads were still pinging from was swarming with a small team of government agents led by Sam and Bucky. Ayo and Aneka touched down just thirty minutes after them accompanied by Okoye and Shuri the Black Panther herself. Together it didn't take them long to search the area, and the only trace they could find of you was the beads. Laying in a puddle of water with a large pool of dried up blood next to it, and no one needed a DNA test to know who it belonged to.

A few feet away was the body of a large male, and his injuries told a story. They just wished he was still breathing so he could tell them what happened to you. Your body was nowhere to be found, but with the amount of blood loss you suffered. There was no way you could've gotten far on foot, so everyone scoured the surrounding area and beyond in hopes of finding at least. A sign of what might've become of you, but they had no such luck. After failing in the search for you, Sam and Bucky turned their sights on the guys you were sent to take care of. Locating the main base of operations wasn't hard at all with being only a few miles away from your final location. Ayo and Shuri tagged along with them just in cased any of the soldiers were left.

Between the Black Panther, The General of the Dora Milaje, A super solider with a vibranium arm, and Captain American armed with wings, and the ionic vibranium shield. It took literally no time at all to make quick work of the small army of goons armed with machine guns. The man in charge was in trying to sneak out the back, and disappear into the depths of the rainforest. Instead the door was ripped from its hinges when he reached it, and before he could turn around to go back the way he came.

A shiny black metal arm with lines of gold running down its length reached out to take a fistful of his shirt. Bucky lifted him off the ground, and carried him back into the building. Where he proceeded to slam him into a wall. One, two, three times, and on the last one his head connected with hard material. His eyes rolled into the back of his head, and suddenly his vibranium arm disconnected from his body. He stepped back as it fell to the floor at his feet along with the near unconscious man.

"What the hell Ayo?" He growled already knowing who was responsible.

She came up to stand beside him with nothing but disdain in her eyes for the man below. "You weren't restraining yourself" was her explanation.

It took all of five seconds to pry the metal arm off the short and stocky man. Sam hauled him to his feet by his white lab coat, and half-drug him to a random office. Where he was tossed into a office chair the momentum sent it spinning out of control. Until it slammed into the wall, and turned over dumping him back on the floor.

"For Bast's sake can you two not be so rough. We need him conscious if we're going to question on y/n's wherabouts" Shuri scolded the Avenger.

Sam and Bucky grunted out a fake apology. Shuri went over to help the leader back to his feet with a firm grim on his forearm. She led him back over to the chair that Ayo had picked up from the floor waiting on the side with handcuffs. As soon as he was seated and his hands were secured to the arms of the chair. Bucky threw a bucket of cold water on him drenching his entire body.

"Ahhh" he gasped shooting up from his slumping. His eyes widened and his hands strained against the bonds when he tried to wipe the water off his face. A second later he started to realize just what kind of predicament he was in. When his eyes settled on Shuri positioned in front of him in her signature Black Panther suit. The mask was still covering face to set the tone, and evoke more fear into him. Ayo stood on her right side just a few inches behind her with death grip on her spear. If looks could kill the man would drop dead in an instant from the way she glowered.

Bucky sat perched on top of a desk closer to the door with Sam leaning back against. Arms crossed over his chest deciding it was best to let the Wakandans handle the interrogation. The rage built inside of him was too strong for him to trust himself to question the man responsible for your disappearance. Especially considering the thing fueling his anger was the thought that all of this was his fault. You would've never been put in this position if he had just listened to his instincts. In the first place and waited until Bucky returned from dealing with Valentina to give you the mission. Instead he let you go alone and now you were gone.

"Where is she?" Shuri asked her voice so calm it was eerie.

"Where's who Princess? You're going to have to be a little more specific." The man said letting just a drop of sarcasm seep into his voice. It earned him a blow to the jaw courtesy of Ayo with such speed. He didn't even realize he'd been struck until the stars cleared, and he spat blood onto the floor.

"The Avenger who was sent here to bring your operation down" Ayo seethed.

A knowing look came over him and there was no way for him to hide it. When grin stretched across his face to match the pure delight in his eyes. Shuri moved with inhuman speed to encase her General in her arms, and pull her back.

"Lula Ayo lula cinga ngesithandwa sakho" She whispered into the enraged warrior's ear.

"I assumed your Avenger was successful in her mission, and would've returned to you by now. You're telling me she hasn't?" He asked out of curiosity and disbelief.

"No she hasn't and her last coordinates puts her about a mile or two away from this place. We went there but there was no sign of her only some dead burly dude." Sam explained walking forward to take over as Shuri took Ayo out of the room.

"Ahhh so she did kill project Earth" the man said his tone emotionless as he shrugged his shoulders. "I figure as much when he didn't return after I sent him after her and my other subjects."

Sam glanced over his shoulder to see Bucky's eyebrow twitch, and he sighed wishing the guy knew how to hold his tongue. No doubt he was referring to the missing kids. He stepped out of the way knowing his strength didn't even come close to matching the super solider. Whenever his eyes darkened the way they were now, and he moved nearly matching Shuri's pace. He wrapped his human hand around the man's throat, and squeezed until it got to the point that every time the man tried to gasp for air. The end result was him choking even harder.

"Those subjects have names and so did that man who died for your heartless endeavors. They were human beings and you stole their life away from them." Bucky snarled dropping to one knee so he could make eye contact with terrified scientist. "The least you can do is remember their names. When this is over I'm going to make sure you know every single last one of them." It wasn't a threat but a promise.

The interrogation went on for a full two hours with Okoye coming in, and taking over after the first hour was up. She had years of experience under her belt witnessing some of the most proven methods to get someone to talk. She had no sympathy for this man, and saw no need to show him an ounce of mercy. But once it became obvious he knew nothing of your whereabouts, and had no useful information on the abandoned town.

Okoye broke the news to everyone and called the interrogation a waste of time to keep it going. Of course Ayo and Aneka who were holding onto breads crumbs of hope right now argued.

"He is lying let me speak with him" Aneka demanded stalking towards the door.

Both Sam and Okoye blocked her path, but he hung back letting the former General attempt to calm her fellow Midnight Angel down.

"Aneka brute force will not work I've tried both manipulation, and torture. He just doesn't know" Okoye insisted.

"He's a demented man who used people as test subjects to give them powers. He would've saw y/n as the perfect specimen." Aneka argued.

"Maybe but that doesn't change the fact she's an Avenger which makes her liability to someone like me." The man's voice came from the doorway. His hand were now cuffed behind his back, and even though there were no tell-tell signs of physical torture. His face twisted in pain when Bucky forced him to continue to humble along beside him. Bruises were littered around his face from the few blows he suffered early-on coupled with the strangulation.

"In case you didn't notice my operation was built off subtlety. I targeted a small town with little to no police force, and hidden away from civilization. I knew no one would come rushing to these people's rescue, and the few kids who I did have brought to me from other countries were low-risk. Runaways with parents who gave up on them a long time ago, and children from a broken home. That's how I stayed off the radar taking an Avenger captive would put on the map, and it wasn't worth it. I ordered project Earth-arghhhh" his speech was cut off in a painful groan.

Bucky had tightened his grip on his shoulder past the point of being just uncomfortable.

"Todd I ordered Todd Jenkins to kill her" he cried in distress. Bucky loosened his hold with a death stare. "His orders were to kill her and bring the kids back. You can torture me all you want by my story won't change."

When no one else opened their mouth to argue Bucky moved along shoving the scientist forward. Aneka turned back to Ayo searching for answers neither of them had. If you weren't taken captive then why were you. Both of them replayed your last words to them in their head having memorized the message by now. And how defeated you sound the horrible coughs mixed in with your words. You were on the verge of death, and the last update Griot gave them on your vitals was anything but good.

He told them you had sustained fatal injuries, and he lost a pulse about five minutes after you sent the message. And that was another mystery why did you take your kimoyo beads off. Aneka had found the beads lying in a puddle of water with tiny drops of dried blood on them. Her heart filled with dread at the sight of them not being on your wrist. You'd never just take them off none of this was making sense.

"Someone had to move her right? She wouldn't of gotten that far in her condition" Aneka said. Her and Ayo returned to the spot where your last fight took place. Bucky took charge in removing Todd's body, so the area was empty now surrounded by trees, and the noises of various animals creating a symphony.

"Maybe an animal got to her" Ayo suggested hating the words as they left her mouth. She hated what the theory implied, and it earned her a glare from her lover.

"You're suggesting a predator took her for dinner, but left behind the man the size of a bull in one piece." Aneka scoffed turning around to walk away.

Ayo caught her by the wrist making her pause. A single tear slipped free rolling down her cheek. The others were still combing through the town, and the forest looking for any sign of what could possibly happened to you. But at this point most of your friends had accepted a dark and ugly truth about your fate. No one wanted to say it aloud though especially Ayo herself, but eventually they were going to have to call the search off. Eventually they were going to have to return back to Wakanda, and resume their daily life. The country needed the Black Panther and its protectors right now more than ever.

Sam was going to have to hold a press conference as well, and speak on your behalf. He knew he could only put it off for so long you were more dedicated to the cause of the Avengers than any other hero. After the aftermath of the final showdown with Thanos unlike others who either went on a break, retired altogether, or went back to their own purpose. Your disappearance was going to be noticed and felt all across the world.

There was going to be tears, memorials, flowers, heartbreaking goodbyes, and three funerals. A public one for the world you fought so hard to keep safe. A private one for your friends who had become family at this point. A secret one for Ayo and Aneka as a piece of them were going to die along with you. The second they were able to admit the truth.

You was gone forever.

Stop One: Clint's Farmhouse

All the down time that came with being a retired Avenger must have been paying off. Because the house along with the barn had some major upgrades between now, and the last you'd been here. When Clint brought the Avengers to his home to lay low and hide from the aftermath of the second showdown with Ultron. You were overcome with a wave of guilt after realizing that had been more than a decade ago. It piled on top of the gut feeling you were already feeling since the majority of your memories returned.

The large two-story home had what looked like a fresh new coat of paint, and the porch was larger more open with a white swinging bench. A set of rocking chairs were aligned along the rest of the space. A flowerbed was blooming with daisies and lilies all around the front of the house mixing in nicely with the perfect cut grass. You got the feeling most of this was Laura's touch with Clint doing the heavy duty work.

Thunk.

"There we go Katie alright sweetheart just do what she did." A familiar voice said. Drawing your attention to the right side of the yard with a considerable distance from the house.

Clint was losing his edge not sensing your presence right away you decided. As you resumed walking in his direction where the archer was holding a archery class from the looks of it. With two younger girls in attendance one of them you recognized as a much older Lila, but the other tall and dark-haired girl's identity was a complete mystery. She was the first one to notice your approaching your figure her grip on the bow in her hand tightening. While the other one inched towards the quiver of arrows resting on her back. For a second you thought she was going too take the shot, but once you got a bit closer. Her grip on the bow loosened till it fell from her fingertips to the soft grass below. As both of her hands flew up to cover gaping mouth. She made the connection.

Clint on the other hand was too busy correcting Lila's aim to pay either you or her any attention. The dark haired girl reached out to smack Clint on the shoulder in repeatedly. A ghost of a smirk appeared on your face as you watched him glance over his shoulder too snap at her. Time slowed down as Lila released her hold on the drawstring letting the arrow fly towards the wooden target board. In the same instant Clint finally turned around too see what the other girl was making a commotion about. You paused your advance a few feet away, and the two of you locked eyes. Tears flooded his vision in a matter of seconds.

"Y/N."

The arrow struck the center of the target board embedding itself. Lila let out a cry of joy jumping up and down clapping her hands together. Clint closed the short distance with one long stride too sweep you off your feet, and into his warm embrace.

"You're alive" he breathed into your ear. "Its really you I'm holding you."

"Yeah Clint its me back from the dead" You reassured him with your arms constricted around his neck. He held you tighter if it was even possible, almost like he was afraid. You'd disappear into thin air if he let go for even a second. The two of stayed like that for what seemed like forever. You weren't going to rush him knowing that while seeing you alive after believing you had perished was a big relief for him. At the same time his brain and heart needed time to process this. But after five minutes or so Clint finally pulled back to get a good look at your face. His thumbs rubbing soothing circles into both of your cheeks.

"I thought I lost you" he whispered.

"You almost did" you replied. Eight months ago you would've said never to that statement, but now you knew all too well how fragile life truly was now.

Clint introduced you to the dark-haired girl. Her name was Kate Bishop and she was definitely a fan. Unable to contain her excitement finally getting the opportunity to officially meet you. Of course she wished it was under better circumstances. You went on to repeat the same tearful emotional reunion with Laura and the kids. Afterwards once the sun had set, dinner had been survived, and everybody was tucked into bed.

You and Clint were finally able to sneak away from the farm. The archer telling you there was something special he wanted to see you. The two of piled into an old school red pickup truck to go on the twenty-minute drive.

"You're really going all out on the whole rancher lifestyle huh." You joked tapping the outside of the passenger door letting your arm hangout the open window.

"Hey be gentle with my baby, and don't mock her." He chided you softly. I'm going to be teahcing Cooper how to drive in this in just a few more months you know" His tone grew softer as his eyes did when he continued. Clint couldn't wait for that day. His family meant the world to him.

The night sky was lit up with thousands of bright stars a sight you presented that much living in a big city. It reminded you of those nights spent in the village sometimes training with Diego. You wondered if the young boy was back home moping around because of your absence, but then buried such thoughts. He was probably working harder than ever preparing for the day you returned to make him a honorary Avenger. The thought made you chuckle a little bit as you followed Clint into a wooded area.

"Are you going to tell me where we're going? You asked eyes scanning the tall and skinny trees that were too thin to hide any real threats. Although you were still on high alert, while you weren't going to admit it. This expedition did trigger some bad memories some that were still buried.

"Don't worry we're almost there." He told you reaching out behind to take your hand into his giving it a gentle squeeze. Clint knew PTSD when he saw and heard it so the change in pitch of your voice was a sign he couldn't miss.

Not even two minutes later Clint pushed back some brush blocking his path, and pulled you ahead of him. It It led to a wide circle clearing that had obviously been cleaned up by someone. The grass that didn't manage to grow out here in the dirt was cut evenly. The ground was clear of all sticks, pine needles, rocks, or anything else that would take away the aesthetic. On the edge of clearing were three tombstones setup a few feet apart from each other.

You let out a gasp realizing what this place was. His whole little private cemetery for his fellow Avengers who were now deceased.

"It might sound crazy but I needed my whole spot to visit them, and just be with them in private. Sometimes to talk or feel some sort of connection other times to have a good cry."

It didn't sound crazy at all when Tony and Natasha died. One had public funeral while the other had a private one. You understood why Tony's was the televised event with only the heroes, and his family allowed to attend in person. But it still felt weird having the cameras there and you found yourself holding back the ugly cry because of it. Not to mention it was practically impossible to visit his grave later on, and get some alone time in with him.

You and Clint walked over to the tombstones. Of course you already predicted two of them belonged to your fallen friends, and you had a feeling who the last one belonged too. And indeed your name was engraved into the top of the gravestone. The other two had a few specks of dirt on them, and some vines shaping around them. He wasted no time in dusting the dirt off, and ripping the vines away. Your gravestone still fairly new and was in perfect condition.

"While I'm not upset you choose to pay me a visit first y/n. I do have to ask why?" Clint finally asked the burning question.

The one you were kind of hoping wouldn't be brought up. Because now things were about to get real for you.

"How did you do it Clint?" You asked lifting your head to stare up at the sky. "How did you walk away from the Avengers? This life fighting the good fight, for the greater good that's all we've ever known." You had this feeling in the pit of your stomach that before you left for the mission. That costed nearly costed you your life had costed something way more important. And it only got worse when you watched Clint interact with his family today.

"It wasn't easy y/n but ultimately I came to the conclusion that my family was important, and I owed it to them to start being there a hundred percent of the time. Instead of giving barely thirty percent of me."

You lowered your head to look at him in the eyes. "But what changed because you didn't give up the hero life until after Ultron. You had a family before that."

"I almost died if it wasn't for Pietro I wouldn't be here y/n, or are you forgetting?"

You shook your head that was one memory embedded deep withing your brain. The look of devastation in Wanda's eyes when Vision swooped in with her in his arms.

Clint took a seat on the a patch of grass, and patted the spot beside him. You did the same but got even more comfortable laying down on your stomach.

"Later on it really hit that if Pietro wasn't as fast as he was. I would've died and my baby boy was going to be born into a world never knowing his father. Nathaniel would've only had the stories told to him by Lila and Cooper. The pictures Laura kept around the house to know what I look like, and that's if she were able to keep them up. If the sight of her dead husband didn't destroy her all over again. That's if the kids hold onto their memories of me instead of burying them in their attempt to deal with the grief. I realized then I couldn't do it anymore the Avenger life wasn't for me anymore. Because the thought of dying to save the world, and leaving my family alone. It broke me y/n it became my biggest fear."

His words resonated with you now more than they would've if you asked him. All those years ago when you had the same question for him, and you understood it.

He could see you were through your own little dilemma, and decided to switch the focus onto you. "They came here you know."

"Who?" You asked a little too fast sitting up on your knees.

"Your lovers asking me if they were any safe houses in that particular area where you went missing. That you would go hideout to wait for help. I gave them the location of all known places I thought you would go. They love you y/n" Clint said.

They so there was more than one someone in your life, and you still couldn't remember either one of them. Yet you could somehow feel the effect of their love. "I feel like I love them too, and I think I screwed up big time."

Clint shrugged his shoulders. "You probably did you suck at relationships almost as bad as Nat did."

"Shut up" you shot back crawling forward to shove him backward. He recovered with a heartfelt chuckle as you settled in beside him. "When fighting is all you ever known its hard to imagine a life without. Its harder to imagine giving up that life for something like love. I know that better that anyone y/n." He said after a minute or so of silence as the two just gazed up at the stars.

"Love, peace, family those are foreign concepts to people like us" Clint continued. "We don't think its in the cards for our life even if we crave it more than anything. And when we do find it there's this fear its not going to workout. That's the thing that keeps you from walking away. You're afraid your little paradise will fall apart the second you go all in, and you'll be right back to fighting."

He paused to turn his head towards you. An emotion on his face you couldn't exactly place. "But when its real y/n its worth it. God the real thing is worth everything." he said unable to hold back the tears. He cried for you. Knowing you almost died because you refused to take a chance upon love.

"I know it is Clint but being an Avenger is in my blood too. I still want to fight to protect that very same love." You argued feeling horrible at the disappointment that washed over his face at your response.

"That's the adrenaline talking and now that you survived a near-death experience. No you actually came back from the dead its going to be ten times worse" He commented in exasperation. As if he were talking to a toddler who never learned his lesson when it came to touching a hot surface.

"Clint I-" you tried to defend yourself, but he held up a hand cutting you off.

"I use to be just like you y/n in case you're forgetting. People have two different responses when they have a brush with deal. He held up one finger. "One it spooks them and reminds them just how precious life is. Most of us know its the most fragile thing in the world because we take the lives of others on a daily basis. But we survive the majority of those situations until one day death comes knocking. Laura walked away from Shield long before I did for that very reason."

Your eyebrows shot upward as you let out a slight gasp in surprise. No one ever really knew why she decided to turn her back on being agent for the white picket fence life. All there was rumors and assumptions.

Clint put up a second finger. " Two it makes you even more reckless because now you feel invincible. You start to wonder just how far can you truly go, and not die. You start to tempt fate." He fixed with stern gaze before continuing. The way a brother would to his sister dating the wrong type of guy. "Fate gave you a second chance at life y/n don't take it for granted, and don't tempt it again."

"I don't think it was fate that brought me back Clint. I think it was the Angels." You replied the hymn replaying in your head from right before you succumbed to your injuries.

"Well thank them and be more careful with your decisions. They might not do it again."

With that the discussion came to an end. Clint knew you was going to hit the road again soon. After all the entire world believed you were dead you needed to clear the air on that. Plus you still had about a few months worth of memories to recover, and you knew exactly who could help you with that. He did tell you if you need another perspective on giving up on the life of an Avenger to talk to Scott Lang. Another retired hero and father who still resided San Francisco, California. It was out of the way of your original destination, but why not you decided. It gave you more time to avoid a major scolding from Sam.

Stop Two: San Francisco

Scott had the same reaction to seeing you turn up on his doorstep, but unlike Clint who shed tears for you with no shame. The former thief turned hero put on a tough guy act only exerting happiness. You felt his tears soak your shirt when he hugged you laughing. When Scott pulled back complaining of allergy season. But when you asked him the same question his usual goofy and happy demeanor was replaced with a hardened face. His eyes as serious as you ever saw them.

"Well for one its not like I asked for this life. I was basically tricked into by Hank who set me up."

"Maybe you shouldn't have broke into his home" You quipped playing along with his joke. Even though it technically was true unlike you and Clint. Scott never signed up for this instead a serious of weird circumstances brought him into this life. But he was more than eager to help Captain America fight during the Sokovia Accords era.

"From day one I got accepted this because I thought it would make me a better man. A better father to Cassie, and it did until it didn't eventually being a hero drove us apart."

You didn't know if he was talking about getting stuck in the Quantum Realm as a result of Hope, Hank, and Janet being a victim of the Blip, or him being locked up after getting captured by the cops. Steve came for him but he did have to plead out for his limited freedom.

"Time is the one thing you can't get back once you lose it. I missed out on so much of her life in prison. Then Thanos cost me another five years, and I couldn't even be upset the way I wanted to. Because me getting trapped in the Quantum realm was the key point to saving the world." Scott sounded genuinely angry about it.

"Death isn't something you can usually reverse once its done. That's it you're gone, and the person is only left with memories. After we defeated Thanos I retired because all I ever wanted was to be able to spend time with my family, and I was losing out on all that putting my life in danger for what."

You raised an eyebrow at his last statement. Saving the world was no small feat.

"Calm down" Scott said immediately when you opened your mouth. "What I mean is there will always be guys like Yellowjacket running around you know."

You frowned. "Who and what is a Yellowjacket?"

"He was my first nemeses I took him down by myself" He stated a bit proud. "You know the small guys there never going to stop showing up. No matter how many of them I take down one will always replace the last. But time with my daughter isn't something I can get back y/n, and those precious moments I missed out on I can't go back and experience them. So I don't care if she's in her teenage rebel phase, and giving me hell. I want to be there for all of it and more. If another Thanos comes along I got your back, but until then I'm retired."

You see now why Clint told you to talk to Scott. The way he put it couldn't be argued with you lost out on almost nine months of your life. And those nine months were frustrating as you tried to piece it all back together.

"Plus there will always be guys like us too you know" he added in bumping your shoulder with his own. "Last I heard Sam had found some pretty good prospects for his new official Avenger squad. The world will always have heroes to count on."

Stop Three: New York

"So Tony created this thing to restore your memory." You mused studying the contraption before with interest and worry.

"Yeah back when I was on the run and Steve started looking for me. Apparently he wanted to help, but said he was no help in playing detective, and did't have the time to hunt down another 80-year old virgin. So he designed this instead" Bucky explained holding a circular crown-like object. You figured it was supposed to go on your head.

"And this was before he found you murdered his parents right?" You winced realizing there was probably a better way to ask that question.

Bucky shot you a dirty look before letting a small smile grace his face. "You're lucky you just came back from the dead y/n" he said running a hand through his hair. Which had grown out a bit more since the last time you'd seen him. Nearly the same length back during the first battle with Thanos. You wondered if it was on purpose or was a result of him grieving your supposed death.

"Yes he finished long before the Accords came into play around the time he and Bruce started working on Ultron" he reassured you.

"And you're sure he didn't modify this thing to erase memories after finding out the truth about his folks." You continued to press on.

"Y/N" Bucky snapped in irritation. "You're making me start to wonder why I missed you in the first place."

"Okay first of all ouch" You feigned like his comment actually hurt your feelings. When in reality it did the opposite amusing you at the most. "Second I gotta make sure Tony could hold a grudge, or are you forgetting?"

Bucky didn't need you to finish the statement to know exactly what grudge you were talking about. The one caused when Steve chose Bucky over Tony, and the two heroes went on to not speak to each other for years. Even when the world needed the Avengers to reassemble at full strength. Tony was still hesitant to make the call.

"I don't think he did" Bucky admitted sheepishly. It was a possibility he never considered until now.

"Did you ever use yourself?"

"No.

"Why not?"

The majority of my memories came back naturally overtime, plus the museum dedicated to Steve really helped."

"But did you ever get all of them back?"

"No but I got the important ones back and that was all that mattered in my opinion." Bucky told you his tone apologetic. He knew that wasn't the answer you were looking for. You wanted him to tell you with a little more time the rest of your memories would just come back. But in reality this machine was your best bet to get them back in a timely manner, and possibly in general.

"Do you think its worth it? Bucky asked when you remained silent.

You nodded. "I have to remember them. I need to remember them. They're worth it." The ghost of the memories haunted you way too much. A laugh here. A smell there. You needed to remember all those moments again. It was the only way you were ever going to feel complete again. You spent your entire life thinking love was never going to find you, but then it did. And you screwed up in a big way, and how were you suppose to fix things. If you couldn't remember them, let alone your last moment with them.

"Alright then let's do this" Bucky encouraged you clapping you on the shoulder.

He helped you get hooked up in the lounging chair which was surprisingly comfortable. Despite how intimidating it looked, and proceeded to place the metal round thing around your head. It fit perfectly, and then Bucky pressed the only red button on the control panel. At first nothing happened you just laid there with the thing connected to your brain. Then the machine roared to life lighting up with power. For once you were grateful your control over your powers hadn't returned fully. Because if it. had this machine might be in pieces as your brain was hit with a surge.

It was nothing you could handle but this surge hit you with one purpose, to find the wiring in your brain in charge of your memories. And when it did the floodgates were open your body spasmed as a tidal wave of images slammed into your head. You gripped the arm rests in a death grip. It didn't hurt but the feeling was equally unpleasant, and your stomach began to do flips as you tried to keep up with everything. Then it was over as quickly as it began and you leaned over to the side throw your lunch back up.

Bucky hung back with a disgusted look on his face watching you rip yourself free with a groan.

"Can it Barnes I know you want to laugh" You grumbled climbing out of the chair.

He ignored your comment only focused on the end results. "Did it work?"

You held your stomach making sure nothing else was going to come back up. Once you were sure the puking was a one and done side effect. You answered him.

"Ayo and Aneka are going to kill me aren't they?"

Bucky pulled you into a bone-crushing hug with a cheer.

Two Hours Later

All they wanted was to spend more time with you. Your loves only wanted you to be safe and sound to proceed with caution. Maybe Ayo went about discussing it in the wrong way, and maybe you should've stayed to listen when Aneka wanted to work things out. Instead of storming out like a angry teenager and going on a dangerous mission alone. There truly was no maybe about the later you were wrong, and it cost you basically nine months with them. Not to mention all the grief, pain, and guilt your death has put them through. Had they found a way to heal from losing you? Did it cause the two of them to fall apart? You knew Aneka was partially upset with Ayo for pushing the topic. That morning while she went out to get breakfast.

The only way to fix things was to confront them meaning it was finally time for you to make your last stop in Wakanda. If Sam ever let you go.

"Sam seriously you've hugged me like seven times, and lectured me for a whole thirty minutes. I need to get going" You pleaded.

He had called your name making you stop in your haste to reach the hangar. Where a quinjet was waiting for you fueled up and ready to go. "I know but there's one more thing I wanted to run by you before you go."

"What is it?" You asked dialing back the attitude. Your interest had been peaked.

"I know you're feeling some type of way I found new recruits for the next Avengers lineup without consulting you. But in my defense you never stuck around long enough to hear me out. You were always trying to be one woman army. It was impossible for you notice the potential in heroes on the rise."

As much as you wanted to argue with his observation. You knew it was true thinking back to your conservation with Scott.

"Just remember in the future the world isn't going to fall to pieces if you take just a small break." He told you as parting words.

"Go on" You demanded.

"You know Clint got Kate as an apprentice, but he's not really in this business anymore. Scott's kid is pretty passionate about the superhero stuff. Rumor has it Cassie never lets him hear the end of it about his early retirement. I got this kid named Eli who's grandfather was a super solider. It turns out he might've passed on the serum to his grandson, and now I'm the only keeping the government off his back. Then Dr.Strange-"

"Have all of us been taking in younger and stray heroes?" You exclaimed cutting him off at Doctor Strange. The arrogant sorcerer was the last person you thought would take on the responsibility of being a mentor.

"You got one too."

Yeah there's a kid named Diego back in that village. He's telekinetic and got a lot of heart. I don't know about Chloe and Kai let them get settled in with their families again."

"Cool well I was just thinking with all these young heroes on the rise. The next generation of Avengers is shaping up nicely, but the only problem is they're going to need. Someone to show them the ropes, and prepare them for this life. They're going to need a real teacher you know....." Sam let his voice trail off staring at you with hope filled eyes.

You picked up on what he was putting down and held back laughter. "You want me to teach them."

"No its just an idea and I don't know Clint called so I know you're on the fence about the superhero life. So I was just offering a healthy alternative. You don't have to run off on missions all the time, but you're still in the game."

It was more than an idea at this point, but you needed time to think on it. Your main focus right now was getting back to Ayo and Aneka. "Ask me when I get back" you told him.

Sam nodded failing at suppressing the grin forming on his face. Both of you knew it would be a while before you returned, and with that you were free to go.

Last and Final Stop: Wakanda

Night had fallen when your quinjet entered Wakandan airspace. No doubt their security systems picked up on your aircraft the second it crossed the border. One of the tribes was monitoring your travel route right now to make sure you moved on to another country. So you knew when you landed in a field near the rhinos habitat. It was only a matter of time before someone came.

You just hoped a certain warrior in a blue vibranium suit found you first. Was she even on patrol tonight your tried to practice exactly what you were to say to them. But any planned speech vanished from your memory when you picked up on the slightest of movements behind you. A soft whoosh sound filled the air the wild too silent for her to keep her mask fading away quiet.

"I don't know who you are but you've made a grave mistake coming here" Aneka warned you in a low and dangerous tone.

Your heart started to beat a little faster and it was a miracle you didn't drop to your knees to beg for forgiveness. Instead you somehow found your voice and replied. "Well I would've use the front door but I knew I wouldn't make it that far, and my last entrance didn't end too well for me. So I decided to take this approach this time."

Her breath hitched as she came to an abrupt stop when you started speaking. Aneka was silent for a long time so long you were beginning to worry. You made a silent prayer that your girlfriend didn't blast you, or bury her spear in your abdomen. You were still healing after all.

You slowly turned around peeling off the hood to reveal your face.

"Stop moving I demand you cease all movement at once" Aneka demanded. But her orders fell flat as her voice lacked any authority, or seriousness. She sounded hopeful and unsure. A hundred thoughts were running through her brain at the moment, but it all came to an end when her confused eyes met your soft ones brimming with tears.

"Hey Aneka" You greeted her softly throwing in a quick wave. Her entire world came crashing again when her name left your mouth. Here you were her lover. Her heart. Her everything standing before her when you were supposed to be long and gone. Aneka and Ayo attended your funeral nine months go. They grieved you. It took all their strength and endurance to keep going with each other after your untimely demise. For the longest time Ayo blamed herself for your fate, and at first Aneka did nothing to reassure her it was anything but her fault.

In all honesty for a while Aneka did blame Ayo needing someone to blame, and take her anger out other than you. Because you were gone and the opportunity to yell at you for being so stupid and reckless was never gong to come. She didn't want to admit you had played a hand in your own death. Aneka wanted to be angry at the world but not you.

Until now in this very moment and you saw all the different emotions overtake her features. Pure shock at first followed by disbelief as she opened her mouth to reply, but nothing came out. Then anger and her before she could stop herself her fist slammed into your gut. Agony tore through your stomach as she struck the fatal injury that was still in the healing process. You let out a cry hunching over to hug your stomach as the pain spread everywhere else.

"I guess I deserved that' you wheezed lifting your head to glance up at her.

Aneka's mouth dropped as it finally hit her you were indeed real, and not some illusion her brain conjured up. It had happened many times in the past couple of months with her dreams. They were so vivid and real whenever she woke from them. Ayo had to remind her you were gone and wasn't coming back. She relived your death every single time breaking down in her lover's arms.

'Y/N" she said your name like a prayer. You stood up straight again ignoring the lingering pain. There was only an inch of space left between your bodies now, and it still felt like she was miles away. You wanted to wrap your arms around her, and kiss her deeply. But it wouldn't be fair to her after everything she'd been through. You had to let her decide the pace of things.

"You're alive" Aneka whimpered a hand hovering over your cheek wanting to caress you. But she hesitated out of fear you would disappear again. You leaned into the hand nuzzling it.

"Its me Aneka I promise this is real."

"You promised me that forever and it never was" she shot back.

"Whatever I have to do to convince you name it. I'll do it" you told her.

"Kiss me like you mean it, and don't ever stop. Please don't ever stop" she begged. Just like that your willpower was gone and you granted her wish closing the distance to press your lips to hers. The kiss ignited something in both of you, and then Aneka started going down.

You followed her on the way down to ground not letting her lips disconnect from yours for even a second. She leaned back into a laid position, and you hovered over her. Lips sealed together in a dance of desperation, and love. She moaned into the kiss coiling her arms around your body like a snake pulling your ontop of hers fully. Your hands rested on either side of her head.

"Tell me you're real" Aneka murmured against your lips.

"I'm real" you assured her.

She pulled back. "Tell me something only you would know."

"When you first me you insisted we were meant to be together even though you weren't suppose to yet. Because I still hadn't warmed up to Ayo yet." You said thinking it back to the early stages of your relationship with them. How you held a grudge against Ayo for flipping you over her shoulder onto the hard cold floor in the lab. "You also offered to give me a butt massage that day to make up for what Ayo did" you threw in for good measure."

"My love its really you" Aneka whispered guiding your head into the crook of her neck. So she could bury her face into your shoulder breathing in your scent. "I'm never letting you go again. I will handcuff the two of us together if I have too."

You chuckled pecking her shoulder. She shivered at the feel of your lips on her body tightening her hold on your hips.

"Aneka are you here? Answer me sithandwa sam" Another familiar voice spoke up only a few feet away. Her footsteps approaching fast and you lifted your head right as Ayo appeared over the two of you. She must have not gotten a good look at your face, because her hand reached out to grip the back of your neck in a tight grip.

Ayo hauled you to her feet with vengeance because the General hadn't known anything else since your death. She took out her anger on her enemies at any given opportunity. You deserved her wrath as much as Aneka's, but the utter hatred in her eyes terrified. Your injury wouldn't survive a blow from her especially if she didn't recognize you.

"Ayo no don't" Aneka cried out in alarm on her feet in flash yanking you out of harm's way with an arm secured around your waist.

"Why are protecting the intruder? Have you lost your mind?" Ayo went off but her eyes settled on you, and just like Aneka. The General went through a multitude of emotions, but she came to her senses quicker. Because she knew her eyes weren't deceiving her with the way her lover stood protectively in front of you.

"Stand aside Aneka let me see her" Ayo said a bit breathless. Aneka listened stepping to the side. Tears pricked at her eyes as she opened her mouth to say something, but a sob ripped itself free from her throat.

"How?" she whispered launching herself forward and you caught her body in your arms ignoring the pain once again. Ayo didn't care how truly she was just happy to see you alive. She was happy to be able to touch you again, and wanted nothing more than to take you home. Crawl into bed with you sandwiched between her and Aneka falling asleep together. She wanted morning to come to wake up with you sprawled out before her in some weird position. Ayo wanted to wake up to you to make sure this really wasn't a dream.

For now she'd accept resting in your arms. Eventually Aneka hugged both of you, and the three of you stayed like that for a very long time.

The Next Day

"Its her alright DNA doesn't lie that's our y/n." Shuri announced to everyone waiting around in her private office in the lab. You were still outside resting on the sand table fast asleep. You had been in go mode for the past couple of days, and exhaustion finally caught up to you.

"She is a bit malnourished and out of shape, but other than that she's relatively healthy besides that nasty abdomen injury. I'm assuming that's the one that took her out. Whoever healed her did the best they could, but it'll cause lingeirng problems if not taken care of properly. She'll need probably need physical therapy as well-" Shuri was rambling now while her hands shook.

Nakia was the one to waltz over placing her hand over the tablet in her hand. Shuri looked up at her ready to protest. "Y/N is alive and well you can turn off doctor and scientist mode for five seconds sister.

"I'm fine" Shuri insisted.

"Come here" Nakia told her opening her arms wide for the Princess to step into them. She released a shaky breath keeping the sobs at bay unlike. Okoye who broke down at sight of Ayo and Aneka walking through the doors last night with you in tow. That's when the tests began.

The rest of the day was a bit blur as you slept through most of it. Ayo would move you to a bed in the infirmary after a while. Where her and Aneka took turns cuddling with you. Neither wanted you to be out of there sight for to you long, so later on when evening came and you were finally awake. They hovered on the balcony below where you could see them while talking with Shuri.

The Princess had requested your audience, and who were you to even think about turning her down.

"I will take care of your injury, and Okoye will be in charge of your phsyical therapy to get you back to full strength. If you want her too" Shuri said staring out at the Golden City. The sight never got old as you followed her gaze.

"I'm sensing a but" You pushed her.

"On the condition you promise us you attempt to run off on any missions. Until you're cleared by both me and Shuri" Okoye declared walking up the three steps to the balcony. She gave you a brief hug.

"So no more Avenger stuff until you two say so basically."

"Yes for you and their sakes" Shuri answered jerking her chin towards Ayo and Aneka. The two women stood side-by-side to each other shoulders pressed together. You wouldn't be surprised if they had some ear tech to eavesdrop.

"When I told them not to break my favorite American's heart. The same went for you as well you know" Okoye stated taking up position on your other side. She leaned forward on the edge of the balcony.

"What's it going to be y/n?" Shuri asked trying to keep the hint of fear out her voice. You could say and she'd still heal you not being able to leave in pain, and there was plenty of other heroes capable of helping you recover.

"Guys I can barely throw a decent punch, and I'm at the baby stages of controlling powers again. My death hit reset on everything I wasn't going on a mission anytime soon regardless, so hell yeah I accept your terms" You finally said.

Both of them let out a sigh of relief causing you to laugh. Shuri let you go to be with your girlfriends, and when you attempted to leapt down from a story up. Just to give them a heart attack Okoye reminded you she could make physical therapy absolutely unbearable. You disappeared with an apology taking the elevator.

Ayo and Aneka were finally able to take you home again. Leading you to the bedroom and you took everything in. Nothing had changed even the alarm clock you fried while in bed with them remained on the nightstand.

"Hey we have something for you by the way" Aneka said.

You sat down on the bed. "You guys didn't have to get me gifts. My birthday didn't pass, and we still have two months before Christmas."

"No its something that already belonged to you. An item that would've made finding you a whole lot easier saving us all this time and grief. Ayo said walking into the room with a small black box in her hand.

You knew instantly what she was referring to, and let out a nervous chuckle. She sat on your left and Aneka on the right. The box was placed in your lap.

"You can do honor of opening it."

It was your kimoyo beads.

For the first time since getting you back neither of them looked too happy. You slid them back onto your wrist and the bracelet came to life lighting up with a chirp.

"Y/N it is good to have you back" Griot greeted you.

"How did you lose them in the first place? Aneka finally asked.

"Its a long story" You told them.

"We have time" Ayo replied.

You grinned in happiness knowing you were right where you belong. You glanced over your shoulder to catch the sight of two lone stars in sky by themselves through the window. You thanked the Angels for bringing you back to your loves deciding that y'all did have time.

All the time in the world because you weren't going anywhere for a long time.

Tag List: @kofforever @darkwitch192 @deliciousfestsalad @unsatisfiedanddisappointed @mbakuetshurisprincess @justariellove @purple-nugget @shuris3leg @riribabymomma @wandas-nose-scrunch @ceaseanddecease @someobliviousgirl @marsfunzon22 @urfavvmiyahh @chatitajens @greek-freak101 @takeyaki @naslt @princesscharmingnoir @kiwiana145 @como731 @unsatisfiedanddisappointed @sopaintercrown @sweettea32 @alistair-mooncrest

[dtriad]

summoning the soul 招魂

I keep coming across passages as I reread Good Morning! Workers of the Three Kingdoms that make me go :')!!! but also oof so many knives... which ngl is to be expected for a novel that's set in the Three Kingdoms era and is at least 66.66667% fighting (jk I have no idea what the % is, but no joke there are a LOT of battles). I do appreciate how the author refuses the temptation of OTT bloody descriptions for shock value, and tends to be more understated about the immediate consequences of war.

Context for this section I've translated below: it's set early on in the story, when Lu Xuanyu has been staying for a while in the city of Pingyuan under Liu Bei's governance—just a night watchman who's happened to make a name for herself as a phenomenally good swordsman after Stuff Happened.

Meanwhile, Cao Cao is nearing the end of his first invasion of Xuzhou (Xu Province) in 193 CE—infamously, he invaded two years in a row with such brutality that the Book of the Later Han talks of how the Si River stopped flowing due to all the bodies that clogged its course. Xuzhou is ruled by the old warlord Tao Qian, who's allied with Liu Bei's boss Tian Kai + bossboss Gongsun Zan, and they are worried about what Cao Cao's actions mean for the shifting alliances & balance of power in the region. Liu Bei is tasked with canvassing the situation, and he decides to send his subordinate (& childhood friend) Jian Yong as his emissary, accompanied by Lu Xuanyu for protection.

Ch. 99 | III. The Lightning Sword 列缺剑 (17):

They kept heading south, and as they traveled through the unaffected areas of Xuzhou, the news kept piling up. The good news was—after besieging Tancheng for more than ten days, Cao Cao had withdrawn because he’d run out of food; The bad news was—when the Qingzhou soldiers retreated back to Yanzhou, they took an utterly bizarre route. As everyone knew, Yanzhou was to the northwest of Xuzhou—if they wanted to withdraw, then they ought to go northwest. But Cao Mengde chose the road south; he took a detour to attack the cities of Qulü, Suiling, and Xiaqiu, and emerged victorious all along the way. Just as some were starting to suspect he was going down south to fight Yuan Shu in Huainan, Cao Cao finally returned to Yanzhou. As a result, she could finally test those conjectures she had idly discussed with the Black Blade in Pingyuan. —In the end, what kind of war had this been? —And what kind of person had started this war?

When they passed by Xiaqiu, the Qingzhou soldiers had already retreated, so people began to return one by one. Most of them had scattered during their flight from calamity, and hurried back to their homeland when they heard the fighting was over. But it seemed that there was nothing left of the city of Xiaqiu. What was missing ranged from the roof beams, window lattices, and door panels, to the clay pots, bamboo baskets, and dry firewood—and one needn’t even mention the gold and silk, or the livestock and foodstuff. However, it wasn’t quite accurate to put it that way, because the Qingzhou soldiers had left countless corpses in the city. Even before she entered the city on horseback, she heard the heart-wrenching cries, and then her eyes were filled with the sight of blood. The corpses had died in many different ways. Some had died easily, some had died painfully, but not a single one of them was clothed; whether man or woman, they were all hanging stark naked throughout the houses, or were piled up by the side of the road. So those who returned, one by one, began to search through the blood-bathed mountains of corpses, searching for their fathers and mothers, siblings and lovers, sons and daughters. They were as dazed as wandering ghosts, with tears flowing like blood from their eyes. In each and every corner of this small city, they turned over each and every desecrated corpse—did it bear the face of someone familiar, did it bear a birthmark that they remembered? If not, then they would go on searching through this ghost town, packed full of dead souls. And if they found that someone, then the stone in their heart could settle at last; and they could take off their clothes to shroud the body of their beloved, who would never speak or smile at them again; and they could drag them out, or carry them out in their arms or on their backs, and search beyond the city walls for a spot in the wasteland. And there they could bury them.

Such a city no longer distinguished between day and night. No soldiers were there to guard the city, and no city officials were there to enforce the law; naturally, no watchmen were there to call out the time, in a city so unsuitable for staying. Thus, their travel party slept in the open outside the city, and were able to see many people going in and out nonstop, all day and all night, moving and burying the bodies of their loved ones. Even though no one could find any coffin boards now, those who had survived still tried their hardest with all their heart, so Lu Xuanyu saw all kinds of funerals when she crossed the open land. Some people molded clay dolls, simple and crude in make with their features blurred, and yet they were treasured and valued—so Jian Yong told her: that is the custom of Chu, where they want to send servants to the dead, and it was once the most common of customs back when our great Han’s Gaozu rose up in arms in Pei County; Some people left their hair disheveled, held a flag aloft, and called out the names of their loved ones—so Jian Yong told her: those are Daoist believers, shouting names to gather them together, for they want to call the souls of their dearly departed back from the vast wilderness at night, and send them up to the heavens where the gods yet dwell; Some people tore at their clothes and wailed by the roadside, smashed the clay jars in their hands, and continued beating away on iron pots—so Jian Yong told her: these are people from Wu, and I heard that they believe ghosts are conscious and can do harm, so they want to scare off the ghosts, and will do so even if it’s their own family; And then there were some people who stayed silent, and heaped rocks on top of yellow paper filled with writing—so Jian Yong told her: I didn’t expect there to still be followers of the Way of Taiping; these people believe in ghost soldiers, and have to write down all the merits and demerits of a person’s life on yellow paper, for only after that can they see off the dead soul to the underworld. “Ah, how strange!” This scholar, who in normal times would always be chatting and laughing, kept gazing at the people out in the wilderness. “On ordinary days, if these people were to run into each other, I’m afraid they’d already be fighting. But look at them—it’s as if they can’t see each other.” She had been listening for a while, and suddenly asked, “Sir, Xiaqiu isn’t a city with any fame, so why would so many people come here from different places?” Jian Yong fell silent for a moment, then slowly said, “They were refugees from Luoyang and Guanzhong. They heard tell of Tao-gongzu’s benevolence, so they came a long way here to join him.”   His voice echoed in her ears, and seemed to echo too in the wilderness.  “They escaped from Dong Zhuo, and they escaped from Li Jue and Guo Si, but they couldn’t escape from this.” At the end of a funeral—and it didn’t seem to matter where the person was from—they would take out a piece of clothing and stand on this earth filled with graves, facing north and crying out to their loved one. That clothing was known as “belly clothing,” and it originally should’ve been clothing once worn by the deceased; but those who were dead practically had no clothes left, so the living had no choice but to take out their own, and hope that so long as their loved one had touched it, so long as the breath of their loved one had stained it, they could summon the soul of the dead—who would follow this familiar and intimate scent, and return to their side. “Mama—come back!” “Papa—come back!” “Darling—come back! Come back!”

On a night like this, there was no way for anyone to sleep in peace. She walked around outside her tent, but she didn’t feel lonely at all. For there were still people in the wilderness, who sat in front of the graves all night, or went on bustling about and lighting torches in search of hope inside the city. They wouldn’t feel lonely either, because they were together with the people they loved. It would be light soon; those souls hidden in the darkness could no longer be held back from leaving, for they were about to go on a long journey. Stepping on long grass and slurried mud, she walked slowly along the dirt road that Cao Cao’s soldiers had taken in their retreat. There were also corpses on the wayside, one after another piled on top. As the color of the sky brightened, she suddenly came to a stop. There were two bodies in the grass by the side of the road, of small stature; one looked to be a boy, twelve or thirteen years old, and the other was a little girl around ten years old. A bloody hole was exposed in the boy’s back, from a very deep stab; not only had it pierced straight through him, but it had also pierced through the girl underneath him, whom he had shielded with his body. But even so, that boy had tried in vain with all his strength to protect the girl in his arms… It had all been useless. She’s probably his little sister, she thought. Just like that, she stood there beside the two corpses, staring. It wasn’t until the Black Blade made a puzzled sound that she suddenly asked a question. [You know how San-lang died, right?] The Black Blade was silent for a moment. [Indeed, he died much like this.] “Young man, what are you looking at?” Lu Xuanyu was startled by this unexpected voice, and raised her head to see a woman of about forty standing next to her, smiling broadly as she gazed at her. She wasn’t properly dressed, her whole face was stained with mud and blood, and yet she smiled so happily. “Don’t look at them,” she said. “This is a good thing—they’ve all gone to enjoy a blessed life, they’ve all gone! My son has gone too. The void has shattered to pieces, and all of creation has flown like ash—they’ve all gone to a better place! Only those like you and I have been left behind to suffer here.” As she kept talking, she proudly raised her head, her expression very much like Fan-shi’s. So Lu Xuanyu couldn’t help but respond to her. “Your child, where did he go?” The woman’s loving and joyful eyes looked up at the sky, filled with the greatest pride and expectation that a mother could have, so she looked up as well. Dawn was breaking, and a faint light glimmered through the clouds.

I really, really like the part that's focused on the different funeral customs. ;__; 招魂 is the title of the chapter.

Fan-shi and her son San-lang were Lu Xuanyu's neighbors in Luoyang, and later Chang'an (where they took in a refugee girl, A-Huan). During the Battle of Chang'an in 192 CE, they were among the many who weren't able to escape & survive.

[xuracha]

Prepare the Dead

Tang looks at the demon monkey as he is covered head to toe in blood, with multiple bodies of the demon kidnappers behind him, as Wukong stands proudly in front of him puffing his chest out expecting Tang to thank him for yet another rescue.

Unfortunately, instead of a thank you, a scolding lecture is given.

"Wukong, what have I told you about killing?!?! Killing is bad!! We are buddhist monks, we solve our problems WITHOUT VIOLENCE!!!!," Tang shouted at the monkey, as said monkey turns away with a scoff, now with a deep frown on his face. Wukong has heard this lecture so many times that it has almost became second nature to block him out at this point. "OH YEAH, let me just convince these demons out of eating my master, the reincarnation of the Golden Cicada, one of Buddha's diciples, and gaining immortality! DO YOU KNOW HOW REDICULOUS YOU SOUND??," Wukong argues back.

Tang and Wukong's squabble continues on for a few more minutes, until Lily slams her now extended wand on the ground, creating a loud thud to garther everyone's attention. The glowing stone at the end of her wand releases a wave of energy which then transforms into the shape of a shovel blade. She throws the glowing shovel towards Wukong, which succeeds in catching it.

"Since you are responsible for the corpses, you will also be responsible in helping me prepare them for burial," Lily stated. "Pigsy and Tang will assist me in recovering and moving the bodies, once finished with digging up the graves, Wukong and I will prepare the bodies for burial, and Sandy will help Wukong in lowering the bodies to the graves." Lily then faces the Monkey King before facing Pigsy since they are the touble makers in the gang. "I expect no snarky remarks, sarcasm, and especially no disrespect for the dead beginning, during, and after these tasks are done." If looks could kill, she would be more than six feet under, with the glare a certain monkey is giving to her right about now.

The woman ignored the progressively fuming monkey, as she walked towards Tang to grab the string of coins that was on his person. "I will also now be responsible for this gang's money. For every person Wukong has killed, there will be one coin used and placed under their tounges to ensure them safe passage to the Underworld."

Tang looked at his deciples, before turning to the woman with a look of uncertainty. "Miss Lily, that's our entire supply of coins for buying food, shelter, and other supplies when we get to the nearest town. What will happen if we used up all the coins for Monkey's misdeeds?" Lily rolls her eyes at the monk, explaining (lol mansplaining) to her the monetary value and purpose of the coins, as if she doesn't know currency. "Then you will know who to thank when we arrive at the next town with no money to afford a single bowl of rice, and forced to find alternative ways to get by before our next departure."

Wukong stares in shock for a split second, before he bares his teeth and fangs at the only woman in the group, looking like he is about to add one more to the pile of copses. "How dare you command me to do such an abhorrant task woman, I aught to knock some sense to you. I am a KING, therefore you will treat me like one!!! I will not do such foolish and lowly tasks of a undertaker, ESPECIALLY to the bodies of my enemies!!!"

Uh uh, he did NOT just talk to her like that. Lily will not stand for such disrespect. She turned towards Wukong with a sickly sweet smile, eyes shining with hidden rage. "Then you, my homicidal ass of a furry gremlin with nuts for brains and no impulse control, will have the blood of your enemies as well as an innocent on your hands. And you are not a king right now, you are a traveling monk, and last time I checked, monks result to violence when there is no other option other than self-defense, and even then it is NON FATAL. Now start finding a spot and start digging, these bodies aren't going to bury themselves. We will be here all day and night doing this if we have to. You took their lives prematurely, the LEAST you can do is provide them with a safe passage to the Underworld!"

The two of them have a stare down, analyzing each others movements, before Wukong lets out a frustrated shout and backs off with the shovel to find a spot to dig. "Stupid woman, making a king do such disgusting tasks," he muttered.

[from-the-coffee-shop-in-edoras]

The Fire Inside

Summary: Éomer is back in Minas Tirith a few years after the war, getting ready to help Gondor again with the ongoing clean-up after Sauron. But his life has changed and so have his feelings about war and warrior culture, so he needs Éowyn to help him talk it out.

Context: I love spending time with Éomer and Éowyn, and I hope this shows the affection between them and how Éowyn’s perspective (and some of Faramir’s) continues to inform Éomer’s understanding of the world. I’m interested in the way that they’ve both been really reckless with their lives in the past (her in the attitude she had when going to war, and him in the book after he thinks she’s dead and he kind of goes berserk and charges into a really bad situation) and how that echoes their own ancestry, given that one of the only things we know of their dad is that he was so passionate about fighting orcs that he rashly rode into an ambush and got killed. Now that both siblings have had more experiences and their lives have changed, I expect they would view their past actions quite differently now.

Content warning: Beyond a reference to the courting of death, there’s an implied history of miscarriage in Éomer’s marriage. My own relationship to pregnancy is v. complicated and that tends to pop up now and again in what I write, but I understand why other people might want to avoid that. (And for those who like to know there’s a happy ending, you can find in some of my other stories the proof that Éomer has a daughter, and his wife names her Sigewyn (“joyful victory”) in acknowledgment of their struggle to get there.)

**********

The greaves slid easily over Éomer’s shins, and he bent down to fasten them tight. The motion was so familiar, so ingrained in his memory, that he no longer needed to look or even to think about what he was doing. His fingers moved on their own to find and secure each buckle–one behind the knee, one at mid-calf and one above the ankle–while his mind wandered back over the many miles to his home, back to his wife and the last words she had whispered to him as he prepared to ride out. Those words played over and over again in his ears, and when his fingers finished their task he remained frozen in place, still listening to the loop of his wife’s voice. By the time a knock at the door returned his attention to his current surroundings, he wasn’t sure how long he had been stooped there, half-armored and adrift in a sea of thoughts and emotions.

“Enter!” he called over his shoulder, expecting Freaward to help him with the last few pieces of his gear. He stood and ducked into his mail coat, but, as he pulled it over his head, the hands that reached up from behind to free his hair from underneath the collar were not Freaward’s. He caught one, strong but graceful, in his own hand and knew in an instant who it belonged to.

“Éowyn!” He turned and pulled her immediately into a tight embrace. “What are you doing here? Aragorn told me that you were still in Ithilien.”

“Did you really think my big brother would come all the way to Gondor and I wouldn’t find a way to see him?” She put an affectionate hand to his cheek and then turned to the pile of his armor, rust red leather over iron plates bearing the device of the House of Eorl. She picked up the breastplate and spaulders. “And if you’re going to ride off into danger again, then I will see for myself that you are properly equipped.”

She set to work covering his chest and shoulders, a task that was normally performed by the young men still in training to become full riders. He couldn’t help but smirk a little as she positioned, buckled and tightened each piece. “Other men may rule bigger kingdoms or have greater wealth, but what other man can say that he has an actual princess of Gondor as his personal squire?”

She narrowed her eyes and reached down to yank on a strap around his ribs, cinching it so tightly that he doubled over and a grunt escaped his lips.

“I take it back,” he wheezed. “I’ll stick with Freaward. What he lacks in age and rank he makes up for with a kinder hand.”

She laughed and let go of the strap, stepping back to appraise her work. After a few small further adjustments, more gently executed, she handed him his vambraces and took a seat while he secured them in place.

“Now, brother, before you are called off, you must tell me how things are at home. How is my lovely sister-in-law?”

Warm blood ran to his face and ears, and he felt his heart thumping beneath his breastplate as he pictured Mereliss once again, her eyes shining brightly with happy tears. He shook his head lightly before looking up, aware of his awkward pause. “She is well, as always. She works hard, and you would be proud of the way she rules. She follows in your example as a woman of Rohan to be reckoned with.” His words sounded unnaturally rushed even to his own ears.

“I am glad to hear it,” Éowyn said, studying him carefully. “And yet, your manner suggests there is something more that you are not telling me. What is this look on your face? I cannot read it, but I see it clearly enough.”

He turned away belatedly, but there was no hiding now from what she had already seen and perceived. He would have to tell her something, either the truth or an invention to put her off. The truth was supposed to remain a secret, but…she was his only sister. His only close remaining relative of any kind, in fact. And he had always been a terrible liar. He cleared his throat.

“Just as I was leaving, Mereliss told me…Well, she had just confirmed…”. He pictured her again, gently placing his hand on her lower stomach. “It seems that she is expecting.”

“Oh, Éomer!” Éowyn leaned forward to grab both of his hands, squeezing them between her own. “I’m so happy for you both! There are no better tidings than a new baby–and possibly an heir for your line!”

He smiled and returned the squeeze. “Definitely an heir for my line. Boy or girl, this baby will inherit the crown.” He laughed lightly at the surprised expression on her face. “I thought you might appreciate that change. If it’s a girl, she will owe her title to Aunt Éowyn’s good influence.”

She beamed at him for a moment before the smile dropped off her face and she swatted at his arm. “You scoundrel! You had joyous news to share, and yet you made me pry it out of you? What if I had not asked?”

He held up his hands in mock surrender. “I’m sorry. It’s just very fresh, even to me, and Mereliss says it is too soon to tell others.” Indeed, though he had thought of nothing else since leaving Rohan, he had not told another soul. Instead, he turned the revelation over and over in his mind, alternating between elation and disquiet.

This was not the first time he had received such news from his wife, but each of the other times had ended only in pain. In waking late at night to find her huddled somewhere, bleeding and in tears. In walking into a room and seeing immediately by the haunted look in her eyes that something had gone amiss again. Their happiness seemed always destined to be heartbreakingly brief, a short, private journey from joy to grief. This time, her kind heart had attempted to shield him from the possibility of more disappointment by keeping the news to herself, enduring many weeks of nervous anticipation, doubt and uneasiness on her own, until she felt confident that things were different at last and that their happiness was here to stay. The joy and relief he felt were deep and profound, but now he found himself with pain of a different kind: the pain of missing even a moment of something he had waited for his entire life, something that had repeatedly slipped out of his hands but now seemed to be finally in his grasp.

Éowyn knew none of these details, but she could clearly sense that he had more to say and she waited patiently for him to share whatever weighed on his mind. He took a deep breath before continuing.

“I should be happy, and of course I am. This is something that we have desperately wanted and struggled for, more than you know. But I didn’t expect to be separated from her as it happened. Leaving loved ones behind to carry out a duty is never easy, but it has also never been this difficult. My body is in Gondor, but my heart is still in Rohan.” He shrugged helplessly. “It cannot be otherwise.”

“Of course not. Nor should it be. But you will be back to her soon. This separation is only temporary.”

He grimaced. “I hope that you are right. I’m here to fulfill my oath–the oath of our people–and I am proud to do it. But something inside feels different now. A little off.”

“What do you mean, ‘off’?”

“It is hard to put into words.” He picked up his gloves but did not put them on, fidgeting instead with the leather seams. “Fighting is what I have trained for and done my whole life. Sitting in a saddle with a sword in my hand has always been comfortable to me. Enjoyable even, at times. But it suddenly doesn’t feel that way now. I am uneasy, feeling the pull of home so much stronger than I ever have before. The charge of excitement that I used to feel on the eve of battle is gone. The fire inside me smolders rather than burns. And I worry that if I have lost that fire, if my sharp edges have dulled, I may find myself at the wrong end of a spear before I know what has happened.” He looked up, stricken. “I would not have my child grow up without its father, as you and I did.”

She sighed and took his hand again. “Éomer, our father died because he had too much fire in him. He let his fire direct his actions, and he took risks that should not have been taken. He was reckless with his life, and he lost it as a result.” She paused, looking off into the distance at some past event that replayed itself before her eyes. “I have done the same. Been reckless, I mean. At best, I treated death with heedless disregard; at worst, I courted it directly. I was only lucky not to meet our father’s same fate. My fire, as you call it, did not protect me. I lived despite it.”

Her words struck him hard. She spoke of her own experience and yet he heard himself clearly in the description. His mind went back immediately to the siege and that little hillock by the port in Minas Tirith where his fury and his battlelust had driven him so deep into the Haradrim’s position that he found himself utterly surrounded by foes and preparing one last desperate shield wall, doomed to fail. Had Aragorn not arrived in the harbor at that exact moment, he knew well what would have become of him. He passed a hand over his eyes, as though to wipe away the image. He could not let something like that happen again. He would not. “Perhaps you are right.”

“Of course I am. Believe me, I have thought much about this. In the Houses of Healing, I thought of little else, and Faramir and I have discussed it often. What makes a great warrior is not enthusiasm for war itself. It isn’t acting from excitement or rage or ambition or revenge. It is having something to fight for and committing yourself to doing what is necessary to protect those things and to return to them.”

He looked up and smiled. “I certainly have things to fight for. Now more than ever.”

“And that is why you’re going to be just fine. Loving your life is a much better motivation than loving to fight, and it will keep you safe in the end.”

A horn sounded outside, the clear call bouncing off the stone buildings and walls of the city and echoing on for several seconds. The time for departure had come.

She picked up his helmet, smoothing the long, flowing horse tail at its crest, and held it out to him. He took it with one hand while the other reached around her shoulders and drew her in for another embrace. She squeezed him tightly and then looked up into his face.

“Be brave, but be smart. And I’ll be here to unbuckle all that gear when you return.”

He kissed her on the forehead and headed out the door, helmet in hand. She watched as he strode down the hall, tall and strong. Just before turning out to the courtyard where his horse awaited him, he looked back and saw her watching. “I’ll be back soon,” he called to her.

She raised a hand in farewell. “I know you will.”

[themickey]

task one: the news

the day mickey received the letter from mrs. tristian seemed like a typical day, little did she know what the day would have instore for her. she woke up, had her breakfast, went to work; all typical. it wasn't until she went home for the night that she received the news.

"bonsoir," she called out as she entered the modest apartment she shares with her partner, jessica, in montréal. "sorry i'm late, we had a late meeting i couldn't skip," an excuse she's used to many times that she knows jessica is sick of hearing no matter how true it is. jessica was sitting on the couch in the living room, reading a book; mickey could see a roll of her eyes behind the pages. the act a reminder of their conversation the had just a week before about how mickey cares more about her job than to be home with her girlfriend.

"you received a letter," was all jessica said before going back to her book, the tone of her voice cutting her like ice. this is how it's been since they had their talk. living together but separate. she can tell the love her girlfriend once had for her has been extinguished by how absent mickey has been and there seems to be no going back.

with a sigh, mickey goes to the kitchen where they keep the mail piled up. expecting to see a something mundane like a bill or letter from an old friend, her eyes fell upon an envelope with the return address from the woodrow house. curious, why would they mail a letter? she had just visited her father in the summer and everything seemed fine during her visit.

opening the letter however, she realized it was mrs. tristian's handwriting, not richard's. her stomach sank as she read the words, the news of richard's passing. tears well in her eyes as she rereads the words just to make sure she read them correctly. richard, the man she has viewed as her father for more than half her life was gone and she felt her heart ache more than when she lost her own mother at the age of seven. how could this happen so sudden? he seemed in good health for an old man. her mind hasn't even begun to process the last part of the letter, the part that informed her that his estate was left to her and the other 15 wards. she was too focused on the loss of her father.

with the letter clutched in her hand, mickey quickly goes to the bedroom and begins pulling clothes from her closet and shoving them inside a suitcase. jessica must've heard the commotion because the next thing she knows, she's standing in the doorway. "mick? what's wrong? where are you going?"

"richard's dead," her voice cracks as the two words come out. jessica lets out a soft gasp.

"oh mickey, i'm so sorry," she says and it seems sincere despite their own issues going on at home.

"i have to go," mickey says, continuing to shove clothes in the suitcase.

"what? so soon?" jessica protests.

"the funeral is in a two days."

"so you're just going to leave? can't you just send your condolences? do you have to leave after you just said you were going to be more present here?"

jessica never understood mickey's connection with the woodrow house, mostly because mickey never told her the full story, not wanting to explain the full scale of what the estate was. but she knows what richard means to her and the fact that she thinks mickey should just send condolences makes her let out a scoff. "condolences? he's my dad, jess, i can't just send my condolences. i have to go home, i'm sorry."

"i can't believe you're doing this. you're always so selfish, you're not even going to ask if i'm okay with you leaving?"

"me selfish? you're telling me i can't go to my father's funeral!" the tears mickey has been holding back start to fall.

"he's not even your real father, mickey." jessica's words hit her like ice to her heart. the same feeling she's had her whole life, every time she would even hint to the others how she felt about them and their 'family.' it seemed like mickey was the only one who saw them as such.

"he was the closest thing i ever had to a father and you know that!" mickey fights back, tears running down her cheeks. "i know we're having our issues and i'm sorry i haven't been the best partner, but you can't ask me to not go to his funeral."

jessica lets out a sigh, "you're right, i'm sorry." she seems to want to say something else, maybe comfort her. if they hadn't spent the past week fighting, mickey knows she would have. jessica was never this cold towards her until recently. a week ago, she would have held mickey as she cried, told her that it was okay, that they could even go together. but instead, all she gives is a weak "i guess i'll just leave you to it," before leaving the bedroom.

more tears fall from mickey's eyes but now she's not sure if they're for richard or for her relationship that is all but over.

[deckerroosevelt]

Chapter 4, part 2

 I put my pencil down and eyed my text. Good enough, I thought and hid the notebook under my pillow again. I got up to open the window. Now that I know where I am, I can’t unsee it. It’s nice living in Hyde park, but I haven’t stepped out since. I took up people watching instead. And in case the man in white appeared again. Not that I would be scared, but my fingers have bandages and still are quite sore. And the naked feeling on them with no nails. Why didn’t I stop after the first grape? Haven’t eaten them after either. 

   Someone knocked on the door and I went to open it. I take a peek at who it is before letting them in, but it’s Treacher, so I let him in.

   “Evening”, he greets with a sarcastic tone. 

   “What are you doing here?” I ask. It is a bit late and this is only the second time ever anyone has come into my room with me.

   “I live here silly! And why not? Do you have something better to do instead than hanging out with me?” Treacher questioned me.

   “Well, not particularly, but… Okay, touché”, I give up. I don’t have a valid excuse and I honestly don’t mind spending time with him. It’s better than people watching.

   “Thought so. Anyways, I do have something I’d like to talk to you about”, he started with a more serious tone. “Did you know that after two weeks of living here, you will get a… how to put this. Well, some kind of a job”, he explained.

   “A job? What kind?” I asked. This came out of the blue for me. Of course living wouldn’t be free here, what did I expect?

   “Well, not a job job, but… I don’t know! Missions, tasks, whatever. So, Decker investigated stuff like the man you encountered last week. The most dangerous things he deals with, but smaller jobs he gives us. We can say no if we want to but, they are quite intriguing sometimes. And we don’t go alone, so don’t worry. As I understand it, Decker is like the police’s supernatural section and all reported stuff like that comes to him. And we help as we can. Most of them are of course unreal, but I have seen some messed up things myself and, well, I am a bit of a messed up thing myself”, he covered. 

   Yeah, he is a messed up guy, but I’m used to it by now. And I can’t say I wouldn’t be messed up myself. But more importantly, I was honestly interested in the “job” thing. Over the past week I have become more curious and I would like to learn more. I have never been to school, and never wanted to go to school. But now I do and this “job” seems like the closest to one.

   “So, next week? Do you have any tasks at the moment? How often do you get them? And what exactly do you do?” I started listing questions that popped into my mind. 

   Treacher stood there for a while staring at me confused. “You are actually interested? Damn. I freaked out when I heard. After last week I figured you’d try to escape and I was ready to help, but ok”. I was quite sure I heard some disappointment in his voice.

   “Well, at the moment we are trying to locate the one that attacked you. And trust me, it’s easier said than done”, Treacher complained. 

   “Actually, he did not attack. I took the grapes by free will”, I clarified.

   “He just made you think like you wanted to eat them by your free will. Trust me, if Decker didn’t come, you would be a pile of limbs in pieces”, he disagreed. 

   “How do they form? I mean, what are they?”

   “It varies a lot. I was created, but I don’t know how she did it. Neda knows more, but she still grieves for her and refuses to mention her. Neda lived with her for years before I was made. She doesn’t blame me for her death. The only thing I know is that the creator was dying and made me as her last deed. Or Neda built me, because she was too weak at that point. She only had to make the sacrifice”, he explained. 

   “What was her name?”

   “I don’t know. There are many things I don’t know. Anyways, I have informed you about what I came to inform you about and it’s getting late. I can show our progress on the thing tomorrow. See you at the archive after breakfast. And no word to Decker about any of this”, he said with his index finger on the mask and walked out of the room.

   “You can trust me!” I shout after him. 

   I tried to fall asleep, but I was too excited for tomorrow. I would get to be an investigator and technically work for the police as Decker’s helper. But not officially yet. 

[shipskicksandgiggles]

45 or 49 for the prompt lists. Idk about characters except Eddie has to be involved for 49 lol

LMAO of course Eddie would need to be involved with the nipple piercing prompt, it's too good. I hope you love this as much as I do

prompt: “What is the purpose of nipple rings?” “Decoration.” “Like a Christmas tree!” (from this list)

Family Video Paradise also on ao3

Thursdays were, without fail, the slowest day of the week at Family Video. 

It took about a month of working there for Robin to notice the pattern. 

Fridays were the busiest. Families having movie nights, teenagers going on dates, adults eager to unwind from the work week. 

Saturdays and Sundays passed in a similar fashion, with more people wanting breaks from reality before work and school started up again on Monday. 

This is where the pattern diverted from where she expected it to lead. Instead of Mondays being slow, Mondays were busy with the people returning their movies from Friday. 

Then Tuesday with the returns from Saturday. 

And Wednesday with the returns from Sunday. 

There weren’t many checkouts that happened on those days, maybe a few here and there for sick days and vacations, but by and large, those first three days of the work week were for returns. 

This left Thursday as the odd one out. The reset day. Hardly anyone came in because most everything had been returned, and the public would be back the following day to check out something new.  

It was quiet. Peaceful even. Keith wasn’t as strict about the movies she and Steve put on in the store because no one else was likely to see them. 

Steve would flip through the magazines the store got in the mail, usually some pop culture, borderline tabloid thing that he found entertaining, and she would pick up a film she probably wouldn’t watch on her own time. 

Because as much as the store had a pattern, they had a pattern too. 

A pattern that started to involve Eddie Munson a little under a year after it had cemented itself into their lives. 

Eddie had also picked up on this pattern, and would choose that day to come in and bother them about something or other, which did add a bit of variety to their day, so neither of them seriously wanted to kick him out, even if they threatened to do so. 

That’s just how it was. 

So this particular Thursday wasn’t out of the ordinary whatsoever when Eddie walked in the door, already making noise like he was going to be a nuisance. 

Steve was flipping through his magazine. Robin hadn’t seen which it was that day, but she heard the glossy pages turn as if he hadn’t registered Eddie’s presence. 

Not that she had stopped in her task either. She had two movies she was trying to decide between, although one of them was an action movie thrown into the ring for Steve’s sake since she never let him pick. 

She probably wasn’t going to pick that one, but she was trying to be fair. 

The sound of Eddie picking up a VHS almost made her break. He checked out movies with the kids on Fridays, but maybe he was checking something out for himself. 

He set the case down in front of her. Only then did she look up. 

“Munson,” she greeted. 

“Buckley. Have you considered the merits of-” he glanced at the tape “-Cinema Paradiso.”

“I speak French and Russian, not Italian.”

“You don’t have to speak a language to appreciate art, birdie.”

Robin glared at him for a moment before adding it to her pile. Without her asking, he took the generic action movie she’d grabbed for Steve. 

Before she could protest, he interrupted her. 

“Don’t give me that, we both know you weren’t going to pick it. Humoring Steve is nice but don’t hurt yourself.”

Steve let out a quiet huff that Eddie probably couldn’t even hear, and she suppressed a smile. 

She rolled her eyes instead. “Whatever. Put it on the cart so it gets reshelved correctly this time.”

“As you wish, Bluejay.”

He did as she asked, and before he could go back to bothering her, Steve tapped on the counter. 

They both looked over at him, giving him their full attention. 

“What is the purpose of nipple rings?”

That wasn’t at all what she was expecting him to say.

Robin choked on nothing.

Eddie had yet to make a sound. 

She realized that this was because Steve had asked the question while staring directly at Eddie, as if he was asking him the question, rather than just throwing it out to the room. 

“Decoration,” Eddie answered easily as if this wasn’t the most exciting thing to happen in the store on a Thursday. 

“Like a Christmas tree!” Robin chimed in helpfully. She’d gotten her voice back, and was curious to see what would happen next. 

Steve nodded and went back to reading as if nothing had happened. 

“Not so fast, Harrington. I want to see what you’re reading that made that particular question occur to you.” Eddie swiped at his magazine, blocking Steve’s attempt to get it back. 

He angled it towards Robin, who was grateful to have an ally in these kinds of situations. 

“Hmm. Rolling Stones. I guess that sort of makes sense,” Robin said. “Some of those musicians make eccentric style decisions.” She looked at Eddie pointedly. 

He ignored her. “So, there’s a perfectly plausible explanation for why he asked the question. I do have a follow up question though,” he stage whispered conspiratorially.

“Which is?” Robin stage whispered back.

“Why did he ask me?”

Steve, to his credit, looked a bit embarrassed, but remained silent in favor of glaring at them. 

“Do you have a theory, Munson?”

“Well,” he had a look on his face as if he was trying to contemplate the state of the universe, “perhaps he thinks it’s the sort of thing I would be attracted to.”

“Could be.” Robin tried to look equally as contemplative. “Or maybe that you know someone with them and might have some knowledge on the subject?”

“Ah yes, stereotyping the metalhead, I see how it is.” 

Steve let out an irritated sound which Eddie finally cracked and directed the question at him. “Which is it Stevie?”

“Neither,” Steve retorted.

“Then why did you ask me?”

He didn’t answer for a moment, staring Eddie down as if he would drop it. 

Eddie however, refused to do such a thing. 

After another minute, Steve gave in. “I thought you might have them and wanted to know why,” he mumbled, clearly embarrassed.

Robin burst out laughing while Eddie’s jaw dropped. 

“You’ve seen me shirtless!”

“A while ago, you’ve gotten more tattoos since then.”

“A tattoo is not on par with a piercing, you weirdo. Anyways, the government never gave me my one nipple back and it wouldn’t be worth it unless I could get both pierced.”

“The bats took your nipple, not the government,” Steve reminded. 

“Tomato, potato.”

“That’s not the saying-”

“You could get a tattoo of a nipple with a piercing to even it out,” Robin interrupted.

“Not helping,” the guys said in unison. 

“It was just a suggestion, geez.”

“There are easier ways to ask if someone has a piercing, Harrington.”

“I was just thinking about it! No better time like the present.”

“You’re thinking about me shirtless? Damn, Stevie, I didn’t know you had it in you.”

This was another thing that had become routine. The flirting. 

Robin could have done without that.

Steve flushed a light pink, and Robin gave up. 

“My god,” she muttered, throwing her hands up. “I’m going on break. By the time I get back, whatever this is needs to be sorted out. You have 15 minutes.”

And with that, she walked back into the break room. She was glad she’d packed a book and a snack today, so she settled into the beat up couch she was sure upper management found at a thrift store, and glanced at the clock so she knew when she had to go back out. 

She gave them a few extra minutes while she finished her chapter, but they probably didn’t really need it. 

When she walked back out, Steve was smiling at Eddie like he was the only person in the world, and Eddie’s face was so red it was almost purple. 

It took her a second to realize why, and then Steve pulled him closer to kiss him on the cheek before shoving him away with promises of picking him up at the trailer park later that day. 

Eddie nodded and stumbled out of the door, groping a few times at the handle before he was able to push it open since he wouldn’t stop staring at Steve. 

Robin let Steve keep watching out the door until Eddie’s can tore out of the parking lot before she finally made her presence known. 

“Jesus Christ, finally!”

Steve smacked her with the magazine, and she squawked. 

“Shut up or I won’t tell you a single detail of that conversation.”

She just gave him a look. 

He seemed to genuinely resist for a moment, but then his facade cracked. “I’ll tell you everything, just put whatever movie you’re going to pick into the player so if anyone comes in there’s actually something on the screen.”

Robin looked down at the two movies she had to pick from. She didn’t remember why there had been such a debate in the first place. She chose Cinema Paradiso.

[sleepynegress]

About The Marvels, and putting together some context clues to get a fuller picture BTS... After watching and listening to a lot of the post-strike promo

Nia DaCosta gave some interviews that gently revealed that she had another film lined up while shooting The Marvels, which is common for directors. It wasn't worded like she was complaining. However, the schedule to start shooting in the first place kept moving up, and up, and up... So, when she finally did get to shooting, she basically had to multi-task, shooting and reshooting with ADs while working on her other movie. Again, this is not uncommon....but I do think it made how the movie ended up, different from what may have been intended (and it still wasn't bad...just middle of the road for me).

Add to that... the fact that shooting had wrapped and the MCU had her reshoot, unexpectedly months after wrapping. ...So many months later, that Zawe Ashton had gotten preggers and given birth and had to do a quick one-eighty to be set-ready for reshoots, with her family present, supporting that. And then I remember a post-strike interview with Imani Vellani and Teyonah Parris (who recently gave birth herself...-recommend looking for that birth on insta, it's really touching-) on the View and how the ladies got to talking about new motherhood, w/ Teyonah passionately talking about how it's basically recovering from an open wound...It really felt like she could have been subtlely also referring to that experience/going to bat a bit about it...

I feel the MCU hobbled this, like so many other recent productions by trying to do too much in a tight amount of time and not supporting the people's needs as well as they should have, in the name of deadlines and money, hence another on the giant pile of reasons for the strike. Anyway, Zawe has not been doing most of the things typically expected of women and even new moms in that Hollywood gaze, post-that.

Good.

P.S. I think it's fucked when studios in Hollywood tend to only start hiring on helmers more inclusively once the franchises have gotten a little stale (see: also TWD and Angela Kang)

[pbandjesse]

I mostly felt okay today. I am very cold though. And that made things difficult. But if I kept moving I was doing good. I tried my best to be productive and that was good. And I slept better.

I was not feeling great last night but I woke up feeling a little better. I hugged James before they left for work but would sleep until 930. Which apparently is my bodies favorite time to wake up when I have no plans.

I stayed in bed until well after 10 though. I didn't want to get up and that was just fine. I did some research to find a non bug boot jack for Jess. And finally got up.

I took a shower and washed my hair and got dressed. And started cleaning. I did a once over throughout the apartment. Put some stuff away. Sprayed and wiped things down.

I started the dishwasher and put away all the laundry and dish pods mom gave us. And went to change the sheets. I also changed the duvet cover and made the bed very cozy. But this took forever and made me a little dizzy and hot.

I had cereal and cooled down before vacuuming and cleaning the fishtanks. I love that I don't have to change the filters anymore and I have a solid bio feedback from the plants, moss, and the purposeful snails. And the invasive snails are much more under control then they have been. Still not perfect but it's going well keeping them to a manageable level

I felt really good about the cleaning but I felt a bit exhausted. Just really winded. I took an hour to lay on the couch and watch videos.

I had the rest of the leftover pizza from last night for lunch.

I decided I would do some art. I drew for a while. I wanted to redo some of my ideas for the little tattoos we are getting in a few weeks. Took about an hour. And then I spent literally forever reworking my idea and my math. I made a chart for my yarn and discovered I didn't buy one of the colors I meant to. Incredible. I will have to go do that tomorrow.

I was proud of my work but I still felt a little listless. And like I needed some kind of deadline or something. Like I like having off from work but also I miss work and want to go back to work. But also I want to only work 3 days a week. Which I don't actually want but I am just complaining. I miss work. But I will miss having days off.

So I gave myself a big task. And spent the next two hours going through all of my clothes. Well most of them. I took everything off the hangers and everything out of my big green trunk where I store most of my extra clothes. This does not include my sweaters or jackets or the pajama drawer. But everything else is in the green trunk.

I would first pull everything out and then sorted everything into piles. Shirts, jumpsuits, dresses, bottoms. And I just have to many clothes. But I have been so good about purging over the last couple years and buying things I really like I didn't have as much to get rid of as I expected. Which is good! But I was worried about not having the space I was looking for. I decided to sort through and pull out anything that I only wear for summer camp. So now those have their own box in the studio. And then I was able to make some decisions on what was getting hung up again.

This was only difficult because I had so many long sleeve black shirts. Which used to be an issue in the opposite direction. I did a good job collecting things for layering. And in the end I only hung up half of the things that had been in the closet before. I'm very pleased.

And then I was super excited when I folded everything and it all fits so nicely in the green trunk and I didn't have to force it or anything. Amazing.

I hope to go through the jammies at some point but I share that drawer with James so I don't feel super pressed about it.

I ended up getting rid of another whole bag of clothes. So that's three trash bags of stuff. I am very happy with my purging even if it's slow going.

As I was finishing folding the camp clothes James came home. I was really happy to see them even though they were very sweaty. They apologized but it doesn't actually bother me that much. I just get surprised when they are damp.

We sat in the floor in the studio and talked. I showed them my yarn chart. And we discussed what we are going to do for dinner since we still have no oven. Our landlady hasn't responded but James is going to send a follow up about lowering our rent until it's replaced or fixed. Because we have to spend more money on food. I think this is fair. And she's reasonable so we will see what she says.

James would run to the grocery store. Got jam and milk. And soup for me and some little frozen burgers for themselves. And when they got home they heated up our food and then jumped on a DND game with their friends while I did some research on some 1970s name plate jewelry. Is anyone else obsessed with your name being on things? I love it and I don't know why. Also the names were incredibly 70s and I loved that. Just names you don't hear people under 50 having anymore. Darlene. Doris. Marlene. Pat. Just the best.

I am just resting now. I feel very winded still but thankfully I don't feel so sick as I did last night. Let's hope tomorrow continues that trend.

I hope tomorrow to go to the craft store and get the yarn I need. And maybe I'll stop at the savers. And just enjoy the end of the year.

I hope you all have a great night. Sleep well everyone.