#like sure. yeah a bad faith reading of this thing could lead to the situation youve chosen to write. but unfortunately its a bad faith

[trekkele]

Sometimes you read a fic thats “written out of spite” and its like holy shit can I make you mildly-to-extremely annoyed more often??? And sometimes you read a fic thats “written out of spite” and its like yeah i can tell.

[sysmedsaresexist]

Could you please dive into the RAMCOA controversy that's been going around? I've literally never heard someone say "RAMCOA is antisemitic" until like a week ago and now there's multiple blogs (I'm sure you can guess who at this point) who are saying this and calling RAMCOA a conspiracy theory from the satanic panic.

It's being said by the same 3 blogs that all reblog the same bad takes so I wasn't putting any stock in their word. Just the latest misinfo spreading unchecked, would appreciate your thoughts on this.

You know what, I'm not going to lie, I've been dreading getting this question.

Terrified. Harassment in this area of discussion is rampant.

We are currently debating making a post and how to approach it.

I will make our stances clear right now.

I think the conversation as it is now is full of misinformation and confusion. I think no single post can cover that amount of history and the theories and controversy.

I don't think anyone understands what they're arguing about, or the histories they're trying to bring up, and how they overlap. I think many members of the conversation lack access to resources and education that the mods of this blog DO have access to. Most of the links being thrown around lead back to the same single sources.

To shorten a very long, complex, and honestly unfinished conversation: the satanic panic and RAMCOA are two completely different entities. The satanic panic was a religious political movement of the 90s pushed by conservatives as a way to scare people back into church and scare women back into their "place" at home by attacking child care facilities. It called on a lot of tropes. And many of them were, yeah, ridiculously antisemitic. As the movement got more and more sensationalized, it began to call attention to therapists (some of them bad faith) and to RAMCOA survivors as a "Look! It's real!" kind of thing. If anything, this attention hurt far more than it helped. It painted an inaccurate and insulting picture that's still utilized to harm people today.

To be very clear: programmed DID is a well documented occurrence and it can occur in several ways.

We support survivors, no matter what they call it. We support clinicians trained in treating people who have gone through that extreme level of horrific abuse. We support people learning to separate fact from fiction, in whatever way that may apply to any given situation.

SAS supports ramcoa and oea survivors.

Here's something we suggest reading, though it's very long.

Stay safe, everyone ❤️

[gothhabiba]

dont feel obligated to answer this at all; I'm sort of just musing but also really appreciate your thoughtfulness on here and wondered if you have any thoughts.

with "terminally online" often being used as a dismissal, would it serve us better to reframe complaints about the reactivity/bad faith (which at least in my spaces are what I notice get classified as terminally online) as conversations about how to improve online discourse? instead of dismissing it?

I do think there is a real difference in tone and approach in online conversations than in offline, and that online conversations can often lean towards taking others in bad faith because there are less consequences to doing so than in person. or seek to gain clout in a way that isnt as possible in casual offline conversations.

But I also recognize the importance of online spaces for disabled folks or just for people who maybe don't have the time to be engaged in physical spaces that discuss things like politics and activism. and its worth making our online spaces better for everyone.

I guess I just wonder what might be a way to approach the real problems present in online discourse spaces besides the dismissal that comes with insisting a take is just "terminally online" and leaving it at that.

Earlier (after you sent this ask) I reblogged another ask I had answered a while back regarding the phrase "terminally online" that might get into some of this!

Yeah, I definitely don't believe that there aren't any differences between online and physical spaces, or that we shouldn't talk about said differences--both the ones that may be inherent to at-a-distance communication, and the ones that may have more to do with how we think about online communication or how social media and other forms of at-a-distance communication are practically organised. But I will note that in-person groups are not immune to any of the criticisms that such a conversation might involve--people destroy popular movements by clout-chasing (i.e. viewing the accrual of power and influence as their primary goal--whether formal or informal influence depends on the structure of the organisation in question) or through interpersonal abuse, escalation of interpersonal conflict, ostracisation of people they think they can get away with ostracising (because they're trans women or Black or just weird or something and so people are more likely to view them as the aggressors of whatever situation).

So if what one wants to posit is that "online spaces" (which ones?) are more prone to bad-faith readings, immediate ostracisation or hostility, clout-chasing, &c. than "in-person spaces" (which ones?), I guess my questions are 1. how would you prove that? Is it a falsifiable statement / what are the conditions that we would have to meet to be able to claim that the statement had been proven in a way that wasn't just anecdotal? How do you divide "online" and "irl" spaces up in order to be able to compare them (what's the status of "online spaces" that arise out of in-person groups, e.g. workplace slack channels, club groupchats? Are large social media platforms considered to be in the same experimental group as these things, and if not, why not)? and 2. (more importantly) what's the use of making this statement? What does it allow us to say that we wouldn't be able to get at otherwise?

I'm not sure what the answer to 1. is, but the more I think about 2. I think the answer is that this type of statement isn't particularly useful. It's enough to say that online spaces are prone to misreadings or hostile readings in ways that may in part arise from the fact that they are at-a-distance, and in part from how they are practically organised (by which I mean, the possible behaviours on whatever social media site we're talking about). And now suddenly we're getting somewhere, because describing exactly what it is about this space that could lead to hostility is probably going to be useful in trying to counteract it. Off the top of my head:

The ability to reblog or retweet can push a take far outside of its intended context. Do I know anything about the other political viewpoints of the OP that would help me to contextualise what they're saying here? Does it seem like this post was written in response to a particular argument or event that isn't as immediate for me? What kinds of argument does it seem like the OP is seeing a lot of / what kinds of experience does it seem like they often have? Could this make their frame of reference different from mine?

I may be assuming that someone knows the etiquette on a given platform well enough to intuit that a reblog/quote retweet is considered more or less hostile than a reply/comment, whether screenshotting is considered a polite avoidance of conflict or a rude talking-behind-someone's-back, &c. &c. Should I be making that assumption?

I may be assuming that any given person is writing in their native language, and is otherwise pretty much aware of how their tone will come off to someone else reading their writing or to me in particular. But is that a fair assumption? How does the English-dominated nature of social media constrain the rules of engagement?

I tend to believe that someone who's come back with a false idea of my post's main argument is not even trying to understand what I'm saying. But is it fair to assume that everyone has a high degree of literacy?

A lot of different kinds of statement or argument (self-consciously political, solely personal, &c.) can co-exist on one website or on one person's blog without necessarily broadcasting their intended audience or scope (like, a political post or a personal post could "look" the same). What are the actual, immediate, material stakes of the conversation someone is trying to have? Am I wrongly assuming that someone else is attributing actual stakes to something that they intended as musing? How much does it matter if this person and I disagree about this? Does this disagreement prevent us from agreeing about other things?

If I do fundamentally disagree with someone about something I think is important, what action (of the range of actions the platform makes possible) should I take about it? What does it seem like the developers probably intended (e.g. unfollowing, blacklisting a post, blocking, reporting), and what informal or user-driven models do I have for what to do (the "call-out post" comes to mind)? What is the ideal end goal of each of these actions (to stop engaging with this person? to get my followers to stop engaging with them?), and what is the actual result of each of these actions likely to be? Which is to ask--am I writing a post about x user because I actually want them to be ostracised or whatever (by whom?), or because I believe it's just "what one does" when you encounter substantial disagreement? What has given me that model?

and so on and so on.

[nerves-nebula]

To the last anon, when it comes to Rise crossovers with 12 and how they handle ‘healing’ its done in a ‘holy-than’ tone. Especially with newer fans. When the arise movie dropped and crossover content was being made it was A LOT of 12 bashing in said fics. Like ‘Unfamiliar Familiar’ and ‘The fight for Mikey’ it was handled in such a bad faith way and reached such a wide audience that if i were to open a crossover fic for 12/Rise the predetermined ideas of ‘2012 brothers/Splinter are abusive’ ‘12 Mikey is innocent’ ‘12 April is a bitch’ are there.

Its why so many of us 12 fans vehemently speak out about it in a strong manner. A few of us are open to discuss it but the pool has already been tainted so to speak.

OH SO WE'RE JUST NAME DROPPING FICS NOW??? with like real people behind them and stuff?? ok damn i guess i really did kick the hornets nest here.

anyway, i read an ok fic once that i dont remember the name of where the rise bros were like "you guys are really mean" and the 2012 bros were like "y'all aint perfect either" and they kept fighting each other because of some sort of dimension thing where only one of them could exist in the same universe and it was an interesting enough premise i guess.

i stopped reading it cause the writing was a little too on the nose for me (like, people just saying exactly what they mean in an emotional situation sorta thing) but it wasnt the worst.

i think i also read a bit of unfamiliar familiar but i dont remember much about it. I guess I didn't notice that was character bashing? then again i never had a huge attachment to 2012 so i probably took the "2012 doesnt deserve mikey so im giving him to rise" thing as more lighthearted than you would if you like. were attached to 2012 and had strong opinions on them hah.

I assumed that the author was interested in telling a story about an abused kid who gets taken in by a new family, and just used 2012 tmnt to do it. I guess my blind spot comes from the way I view stories as vehicles for someone to express themselves. so i care more about the story itself and what it explores (usually abuse) than like, if they're being unfair to characters.

but yeah, having major fanfics that spread a version of 2012 dynamics you don't agree with/like is sure to rub ya the wrong way. I totally get the irritation there.

I read a fanfic that was similar to that actually, where 2012 Donnie and Mikey ran away cause home life was really bad, and it was written so well that I fell in love immediately. My favorite part was that we had parts from everyone's POV's, Donnie, Mikey, and then after they left Raph and Leo. AND it was going to be reconciliation too!! like they were going to get better and all this cool stuff, and the way it handled trauma and coping and healing was sOoOOOO good. unfortunately it was never finished, but yeah. i guess that's my ideal 2012 abuse fanfic that i'm always chasing the high of. it also scratched a particular itch i have for running away, and the tense feeling surrounding the lead up to you running away.

SIDE NOTE I have noticed some weirdness around 2012's female characters, but i think I have another ask that goes into that so I'll save it for there.

ANYWAY thats a long ass way for me to say "oooh i didnt realize that, i see things X way but it's clear to me now that a lot of people see it Y way. that's fair, anyway let me rant about other fanfics i read" haha

[laufire]

I'm not at all opposed to be swayed on these -I was basically reacting to grayson #12 in real time and I'm neither an expert on these characters (especially their prime earth versions), minus maybe new earth!jason lol, nor think one can be too categorical when it comes to characterisation in detective comics comics (at any given time it could be possible to pull references supporting seemingly contradictory versions of a character, so I value internal consistency + good faith writing + some semblance of reasonable development than an "in character"/"out of character" dichotomy).

so I'm mulling over your responses xDD

I think jason WOULD blame bruce but I don't think that's necessarily at odds with him believing the worst of dick here. he would see bruce as the instigator or at least as the creator of the environment that lead to dick's actions. but it would be dick's actions that hurt him. I think he would see a lack of care in them that would affect him and confirm to him how little he matters to dick. he would instinctively identify bruce and dick's relationship as the source of The Problem, without knowing or even imagining the extent of bruce's abuse and coercion (not when directed at dick, and maybe not even in general at this point). but I think he'ds see it as brucedick vs. dickjason, iykwim? as dick putting Filial Loyalty over everything else and not even caring if this affects jason. and as smart as jason is (and believe me, when it comes to this part of his characterisation my advice to writers would be "however smart you think jason should be... it's higher. no no. higher than that. I SAID-"), when he is hurt he does make things about him. which I support wholeheartedly because nobody else is making things even a little bit about jason lol, so who else is gonna be on his corner hmm??

once he found out (let's go with the "enjoy some fucking consequences, bruce" option), I agree with you that he'd fully categorise dick as The Victim in the situation. I also think dick would not react well to that lol. I think he's tried to rewrite events to retroactively give himself more agency in the matter, which is how I read him whenever he faces something like this (guess who read the original blockbuster/tarantula arc only recently... controversial but extremely compelling arc, imo). so, yeah. I think dick would try to assert his own Choices wrt Spyral (I really have to read that arc as well btw).

tim... hmm. I haven't read a lot of the latter new earth stuff for him, which goes into more tense stuff between him and dick (although I'm never sure of how accurate fanon's description of it really is, because fanon!tim can be such a woobie lol), and practically nothing of prime earth!tim. so I can't speak much on the hypothetical deterioration of his relationship with dick in itself, but regardless, I think when offered a choice, or when in the face of a mystery, tim Does The Task and tries to solve it. he might be furious at dick. he might decide enough is enough if it's truly come to a breaking point, although... idk, tim giving up on people seems to be something he's not that easily built for (not saying it hasn't happened lol: again, with so many comics, you could probably find references for anything. but people are people, and dick is dick, you know?). but I do believe he'd see the inconsistencies and want to Poke at them. and once he saw how much dick DOES NOT want him to Poke at them, he'd want to do it even more because he'd see it as confirmation that something does smell rotten here.

ETA: though I do think it's possible once things paint bruce in a really bad light he'll... flounder. not close his eyes to it, exactly, but impulses "needing to know" and "not wanting to know" would be warring. by this point I CAN and DO see jason as the one marching forward.

I'm fully welcoming to a more openly angry damian, though. frankly I think his characterisation is the more easily malleable here. I went with hurt and maybe "quietly" was the wrong word here... I meant more as in... unmasked hurt, as I said? jason's hurt expressing itself as anger and tim's hurt expressing itself in a need to have all the information before acting, all else be damned, vs. damian's just being laid bare for dick to see and have to face, without any distraction, iykwim? damian not screaming dick's head off, but asking why and how could you, not even with ~indignation but desperately *needing to know* what would make dick act in a way that he can't reconcile with who he knows dick to be, especially once damian is back and dick remains in hiding for however long that is. instead of reuniting with him in respect to what damian believed to be a special bond between the two of them that went beyond dick's relationship with the others (damian also makes things about him and I also support this xD).

it's not like I don't believe jason or tim would react well to finding out dick let them belive he was dead. it's just that I don't think they would act like they do in grayson #12 tbh.

jason reaction is just peak bad prime earth characterisation where he's just an impulsive brute who cAN't COntrOL hIS EMotIONS and thus immediately punches dick, which. whatever. his anger as written before could've been so much more interesting, the conflict arising from this much more cutting and devastating. he would also see this as confirmation of some of the worst things he's suspected about how dick feels about him and how dick kowtows to bruce and be absolutely brutal about that, and dick would react by lashing out about jason's hypocrisy and jason would insist on all the ways his situation was different and they would go on hurting each other and it would be MESSY and really really interesting to read.

and tim? tim would not just accept this at face value, he'd dig deep, he wouldn't rest until he found out all the details because he'd KNOW something was off, and dick would try to stop it because does NOT want tim to know about what went down between him and bruce (except maybe some small part of him wants someone to know. but not tim, he'd want to protect tim's "innocence" in this, or at least tim's relationship with bruce). and tim would've also been impatient about jason being too distracted by his own hurt and his own feelings instead of pushing them aside (like tim's doing) to see that something is wrong and they need to get to the bottom of things stop making this about you omg.

also, though I don't mind it in this context, as a contrast to everyone else, and it didn't feel as jarring to me- I would've preferred a... quietly hurt damian. idk, I've been jumping through jason's nu52 appearances so I haven't seen if he got to react to finding out about dick "dying" while damian himself was gone, but can you imagine how that would've felt... yes, he would be SO HAPPY to see dick again but that doesn't erase the rest. and seeing damian hurt in such an unmasked way would've been so devastating to dick, and something he would've had to face directly while jason's and tim's own reactions would've been Problems he'd have to manage.

basically ''give everyone complicated messy feelings about this and make it more heartbreaking'' is my whole philosophy with the bat clan and it could've made things more interesting to me.

(a side of "can bruce enjoy some Consequences" would be nice but i'm not asking that from prime earth stories, I'm not new here)

[21stcenturygworl]

Excerpt from 21st Century Girl, Chapter 19: Faith and Devotion

Pairing: Arthur Morgan x Modern!Reader

Info: AFAB Reader, Second Person Perspective, No Y/N, Outdoor Sex, Cunnilingus, Enthusiastic Consent

A/N: I thought tumblr might like my attempt at writing smut (after over a year of no writing smut (yikes!))… Context isn’t really necessary to enjoy it, I think, so it’s about 1/2 of the chapter. If you like it, consider reading the whole thing on AO3!

Bandit doesn’t seem to enjoy the extra fabric of your skirt draped over his rear. Too bad for him, because you didn’t have any clean trousers or jeans left. You’ll make it up to him later. You’re sure he’ll forgive you when you pull out the sugar cubes.

Arthur didn’t take long at all to come back from the bath, just as he told you he would. On one hand, you feel like he could have allowed himself to enjoy the luxury a little longer, but on the other hand, you’re glad to have left the Parlour House. Sitting there alone was nerve-wracking, to say the least. Because without Arthur next to you to ward off any unwanted attention, it meant people were just openly staring at you.

So you’re taking the “scenic route” back to camp. Just as an extra precaution.

The clip-clops of the hooves of your horses provide the backdrop of noise to your conversation. That, and the cacophony of insects.

“The vibes in there were rancid,” you say with your nose crinkled. “I don’t know if it’s just me, but I feel like we’ve outstayed our welcome here in Rhodes.”

“You might be right,” Arthur says, mulling it over. “But I don’t think Dutch wants to move on until we find that gold.”

“I love the idea of stealing money from racist ex-slavers, but I’m honestly starting to think they’re not as loaded as Dutch and Hosea think they are.”

Arthur gives you a half-shrug. It looks like he’s not sure what to say about the whole situation either. “Don’t go worryin’ too much about it.”

You huff. “I will worry as long as you have to put your neck on the line out there. Especially if chances are that there’s no “big payout” at the end of it.”

“Aww,” Arthur says with a grin. “So you wouldn’t worry ‘bout me riskin’ my neck if there is a big payout?”

“That’s not what I said,” you say, playfully trying to kick him from Bandit’s saddle. Scout seems to see it coming and steps aside before the tip of your boot can make contact with Arthur’s leg. Arthur chuckles at your failed attempt at physically chastising him, praising his own horse for being so clever.

The rest of your ride continues with more idle chatter and laughter. You’ve spent so much time glued to each other’s sides, and yet you still haven’t run out of things to talk about. Sometimes, though, a silence falls over the two of you, and you just quietly enjoy each other’s presence.

It’s during one of those moments that you look over at Arthur. “I love you.”

Arthur blinks, then gives you a bashful smile. “I love you too, darlin’. But where’s this suddenly come from?”

You shrug, grinning at him. “I felt like saying it, so I did.”

He averts his eyes, and you can tell he’s trying to hide his face with the brim of his hat. He can’t hide the way the tips of his ears have turned red, though. “Well, alright then,” he says, smile still tugging at the corner of his mouth.

Shortly after that exchange, you have Bandit slow to a halt — and Arthur immediately follows your lead. “Look at that,” you whisper, pointing towards a sounder of wild boars in the distance. They’re digging around in the mud, no doubt looking for something to eat. Faint high-pitched squeals draw your attention to a couple of younger ones within the group, playing and running around the adults. A little family, out foraging for food.

“Wanna stop and watch ‘em for a while?” Arthur asks.

You nod enthusiastically. “Yeah, that would be nice.”

So you leave the horses to graze, and you and Arthur sit in the grass and watch the boars from a safe distance. They’re just dark brown spots in the distance from here, but it’s hard to miss the way they’re interacting with their environment. Snouts shoved into the ground, front hooves digging at the dirt. The younger ones dart around through the low growth of the forested area the adults are foraging in.

You never did bring in a wild boar for Pearson to cook, but right now you can’t bring yourself to grab your rifle from Bandit’s saddle.

In the shade of the trees, Arthur has taken off his hat and put it aside. One of his hands is on the ground behind you, keeping himself propped up. You turn to look at him and find that Arthur was already looking at you. You keep your voice low as you speak, even though you know the sounder realistically can’t hear you unless you yell. “Don’t you want to draw them?”

“Nah,” he murmurs, shaking his head.

That’s unlike him. The thought is expressed with the way you give him a quizzical look, but it vanishes when Arthur leans in and kisses you. Your eyes flutter closed and you sigh into the kiss.

His hair is still damp, leaving your fingers wet as you move your hands to the back of his neck. The kisses he gives you are gentle and slow, allowing you to fully savour the moment and take him in with all of your senses. The coarse brush of his beard against your cheek, the occasional clumsy bumping of noses followed by quiet giggles, his free hand holding on to your waist. He smells like soap and… cloves and lemongrass, you think. Only for a moment do you get to wonder if Arthur put on cologne for you, because your mind goes blank when he lets out a low moan accompanied by a lick at your lower lip through the kiss.

His touch suddenly feels searing hot through the thin fabric of your shirt, and the whimper he draws out from your throat lets him know just how desperate you are for more. You lean in closer to press your chest against his, your tongue slipping past his lips and tasting tobacco and brandy.

You want him, you want him so desperately it almost makes you lose all sense of reason.

Hands moving to his chest, you helplessly grab bunches of fabric in your fists. Breaking the kiss, Arthur moves to straddle you, and with one hand holding the back of your neck, he carefully has you lay back onto the grass. You look up at him with short breaths and kiss-swollen lips.

He just looks at you for a moment, seemingly stunned. Then he leans forward to cage your body with his own and recapture your mouth with his own, forearms on either side of your head. Your hands move to roam the expanse of his chest as he kisses you tenderly. “You’re beautiful,” he breathes out against the corner of your mouth.

You giggle. You think you could die happy now. “Where’s that suddenly come from?”

It’s hard to miss the feeling of him grinning when he nuzzles your cheek. “I felt like sayin’ it, so I did.”

His kisses move from your cheek to your jaw and to your neck. You whimper when he licks a hot stripe over your pulse point. His mouth continues, leaving a trail of kisses and bites to the hollow of your neck, before moving on to the top of your exposed sternum, following it down towards the valley between your breasts.

Arthur stops, glancing up at you as if asking for permission. You turn your head to look at the road you were riding along just a while earlier. “Nobody’s gonna see,” he says as if having read your mind. He lowers his voice. “I’ll make sure of it.”

A nervous giggle bubbles from your throat. This entire encounter is thrilling in all the right ways. You nod. “Okay, I believe you.” You chew on your bottom lip. “You can… go ahead.”

Arthur’s right hand slips one more shirt button out of its eyelet, then pushes aside the fabric to reveal your chest to him. Your nipples are already perked up with excitement. His eyes, darkened with a haze of lust, dart to your face. “Not even wearin’ a chemise underneath?”

“Laundry day,” you mumble as a lousy excuse.

“Sure,” he says with a lazy grin, clearly not buying it. His hand slides across your skin, leaving goosebumps in its wake. Carefully he moves his hand around the curve of your left breast, looking at you with a contemplative expression as if he’s trying to map out your body and commit every detail to memory. You gasp when his thumb brushes across your nipple.

He lowers himself and returns his lips to your sternum, kissing another trail towards your right nipple as he roughly squeezes your left breast. You throw your head back and whine a little, desperately pressing your knees together for some friction down where you want — no, need it. Your hands find their way from his chest to his shoulders, fingers digging into the firm muscle beneath his shirt as you whimper. Arthur licks across your right nipple, then lets out a satisfied chuckle. “Such pretty sounds.”

“Arthur,” you say between shallow breaths, staring up at the canopy, “I’m going to lose my mind if you’re only going to tease me.”

He hums in acknowledgement, planting his hands on either side of your waist as he moves down to kiss your clothed stomach. His tone is infuriatingly cocky when he speaks. “Can’t have that happenin’, can we?”

You lower your voice to warn him, even though you feel like you’re in no position to make threats. “Don’t test my patience, Arthur Morgan.”

He chuckles, moving lower before sitting back so he’s straddling your thighs. “Apologies, ma’am,” he drawls, fingers trailing down across your abdomen. “I’ll pick up the pace if that’s what you want.” Your bottom lip is caught between your teeth. Arthur looks at you with half-lidded eyes, hands on the fabric of your skirt around your hips. He watches you for a reaction as he slowly tugs at the blue material, carefully pulling it upwards to expose your calves. When you part your lips and your breathing picks up in excitement, his hands begin pushing the fabric up to your thighs.

Arthur nudges your legs apart with his knee, then lays himself down between them, hands holding the backs of your thighs and pushing your legs up a little. You shudder and breathe out his name when he presses a kiss to your left leg, just beneath the lace hem of your drawers.

“Tell me if you want me to stop,” he says, looking at you earnestly as his thumbs gently caress your inner thighs.

You could just as well swoon. That’s what you love so much about him, isn’t it? He’s always showing the world his tough side, putting up this facade of being nothing but a brute who only knows how to communicate through violence. Yet for some reason, he’s let you in, allowing you to chip away at the walls he surrounds his heart with and take a look at what’s behind it. He would never hurt you. Everything he does, he always asks for permission, be it verbal or not. He has killed for you — he would do anything to keep you safe from harm.

You irrevocably have his heart.

You swallow thickly, looking at him through your lashes. “I don’t want you to stop. I want everything you’re willing to give.”

Arthur’s grip on your thighs tightens, but you can tell he’s holding himself back so he won’t bruise your skin. He’s trying to control himself so he won’t accidentally cause you any pain. The thought of it excites you in ways you can’t put into words right now. No, not now, not when he’s looking at you as if he’s been starved, and you’re the only thing that could possibly still his hunger.

He hoists your legs up to have your thighs rest on his shoulders, the movement making the spurs on your boots jingle. You move your hands away, one towards your mouth to hide your giddy smile, the other grabbing a fistful of grass above your head. Taking his sweet time, Arthur kisses along your inner thighs, occasionally alternating between them. “Gonna make you feel real good, darlin’,” he purrs. He presses kisses to the sensitive skin and licks across it, the sensations so Goddamn tantalising and driving you completely wild, making you want to pull up your skirt completely and tell him to make good on his word and just get started.

Arthur suddenly stops and roughly sucks on the skin of your left thigh, on that same spot just beneath the lace hem of your drawers. You gasp with pleasure and in disbelief, then look at him with wide eyes. “Are you leaving a hickey?”

He kisses the red mark with a sly smile. “What? I’m the only one who’s gonna see it.”

You huff, laying your head back again and looking up at the canopy. You’re still a little breathless. Still, your giddy smile slowly returns. “I was just surprised. Didn’t think you’d be the kind of guy to give hickeys.”

Arthur nuzzles your thigh, his beard feeling particularly coarse there. “Well… I hope to keep surprisin’ you.”

Slowly, almost reverently, Arthur pushes up the rest of your skirt. It leaves the navy blue fabric bunched up around your hips, and your drawers completely exposed. You think Arthur is going to tug them off next, but he seems to have other plans. He slips his fingers between the thin section of overlapping fabric over your pubic bone, then pushes the white muslin aside. You inhale sharply, followed by a little “oh”.

(You initially had your reservations about women’s underwear of this time, but suddenly you’re not too upset about the split-crotch designs.)

Both of Arthur’s hands move between your legs, keeping your drawers tugged open. He swallows thickly, and his breath feels hot on your exposed labia. It makes you want to squirm. His thumb traces upwards along your slit, slow and studious, the pad of his digit becoming slick with your wetness. Your eyes screw shut. Then he gently swipes his thumb across your clit, drawing out a little moan from your throat.

“Darlin’,” Arthur murmurs, voice sounding strained. His breathing is ragged. He only continues talking when you open your eyes and look at him. The raw devotion in his blue-green eyes almost leaves you stunned. “I need you to tell me whenever I do somethin’ you like, and whenever I do somethin’ you don’t. Can you do that for me?”

All you can do is nod, whimpering a little when you feel him breathe out on your sensitive skin.

“Good girl.” Arthur licks across your inner labia, mimicking the motion his thumb made earlier, before his mouth encases your clit and gently sucks at it. A jolt of pleasure surges through your body, accompanied by you breathing out an emphatic “oh my God”.

You haven’t been properly touched that way for literal months, and Arthur’s mouth quite literally feels like sweet salvation. It’s sparked something in you, and you know you’ve been ruined: you’ll forever be craving more, more of this, more of him.

He carefully flicks his tongue across the bundle of nerves — you immediately throw your head back with a whine. He moans a little, pleased to hear the noises you’re making, before he continues using his tongue. Your hands find their way to his head, fingers threading through his damp hair as you try to restrain yourself from bucking against his mouth. “You can… You can be a little rougher,” you murmur. He immediately responds by lapping at your clit, earning him a gasp. “Yes— Yes, like that,” you whimper.

Arthur hums in response, and for a short moment, you lift your head a little to look at him again. The sight is something you could have plucked right out of your own daydreams. The green-tinted sunlight filtering in through the canopy makes Arthur look like a modern Eros. Eyes closed and brows furrowed as he focuses on nothing but your pleasure, hair all tousled and messed up from your fingers. His mouth is hot and wet against you, tongue doing all the right things and responding exactly the way you want whenever you give him instructions.

You let out a shuddering exhale as you tilt your head back again. “Arthur?”

“Mm?”

“I want more.”

Something snaps in him. Pushing his shoulder against the backs of your thighs, he angles your hips up and presses his mouth a little rougher to your vulva, causing you to whimper and mewl out another “yes” as he sucks and laps at your clit. Your right hand trails over your stomach to your breasts. Glancing up to see it happen, Arthur removes his left hand from between your legs with a grunt to swat your hand away, and palms your breasts instead. You moan his name, followed quickly by a gasp when he takes your perked up nipple between his fingers. Your right hand reaches out to tightly grab his wrist, feeling like you’ll fall apart too soon if you don’t hold on to anything.

Arthur eats you out like a man given his last meal. He’s fully savouring everything: the feeling of you against his tongue, the way your body twitches in response to his touches, and the sound of his name spilling from your lips like a desperate benediction.

You’re like a coil that’s being wound too tightly, your breathing becoming shallow and difficult. The fingers of your left dig into Arthur’s scalp, grabbing fistfuls of hair and gaining a low moan of approval from him, the sound vibrating against your slick heat. Every muscle in your body is starting to slowly tense up. “Arthur,” you manage to say through gasps. “Keep— Keep doing that.”

He hums in response, not changing a thing about what he’s doing to you. You realise now that Arthur wouldn’t only do anything to make you happy and to keep you safe.

He would also do anything to hear you moan his name.

“Yes,” you whimper, “God, yes. Oh… Oh…” You feel tears prick in the corners of your eyes. “Arthur, I’m close— I’m—”

The coil snaps, and you come undone with your head thrown back and gasps and moans drawn from your lips. Your legs tremble, their jittery movements lightly making the spurs of your boots jingle. The fingernails of your right hand leave little crescent moon marks on Arthur’s wrist. He pulls away from between your legs.

You feel a little lightheaded.

All you can do for a couple of moments is breathe. Breathe, and stare up at the canopy above.

Then you sigh, completely content, and prop yourself up on your forearms to look at Arthur. You blink, still feeling a little disoriented. He’s carefully lowering your legs onto the ground, fixing your drawers, and then wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. He looks very proud of himself, wearing a lazy grin.

You take a deep breath, smiling back at him. “That was, um. Wow.”

“Glad to hear you enjoyed yourself.” He gets up on his feet, then offers you a hand. You gratefully accept it, but find yourself on trembling legs even as he helps you to your feet. As you redo your shirt buttons and smooth out your skirt, your knees almost buckle. Arthur keeps you from sinking to the ground again by wrapping his arms around you. A chuckle rumbles in his chest. You link your hands behind his back and press your body against his, not quite wanting to let go of him yet. He kisses your forehead. “You okay for the ride back to camp?

“You don’t want me to return the favour?” you whisper, moving your head to look up at him through your lashes. You can feel his stiffness against your hip, letting you know he enjoyed giving as much as you enjoyed receiving.

Despite the carnal act he just performed on you mere minutes ago, a blush still creeps up to Arthur’s cheeks at the mention of you reciprocating. “Don’tchu worry ‘bout that. We’ll cross that bridge when we get there.”

You nod, grinning at him. Then you carefully stand up on your own, loosening your grip around him. “Who taught you how to do that, anyway?”

Oh, you adore that boyish smile he’s wearing. “I’ve… had some practice on a coupl’a ladies who freely gave out advice.”

You stand up on your toes to kiss him. “I’ll have to thank them if I ever meet them.”

[tmngoose]

Some Assembly Required: a Rottmnt story

Remember this post? Well, I decided to clean up what I had and show it to y’all. This was supposed to be a much longer story, but back when I was writing it, I jumped ship for a different fic I was working on and never came back OTL Characters: Donnie, Mikey, Raph, Leo, April, Shelldon, Draxum, Huginn & Muninn (albeit super brief) Tags: Lab accidents, fires, minor injuries, hurt/comfort, obscure UHF reference I won’t be uploading this to Ao3, so you can read it under the cut :U

For the longest time, Donnie dreamed of the perfect lab partner. Though Shelldon was an impeccable assistant, there were moments where Donnie longed to work side-by-side with another scientist. Someone with a thirst for knowledge! Someone who shared his passion for all things technical and methodical; a scientist, just like he considered himself to be! 

To think Baron Draxum would be Donnie's long-awaited lab partner was not a scenario the Softshell had ever fathomed. Still, it was one he accepted with great enthusiasm. 

Draxum and Donnie saw no reason to doubt their capabilities. However, the rest of the family remained wary whenever the two of them went off meddling in the lab. With April's help, Raph, Leo, and Mikey devised a strict set of guidelines to ensure Donnie and Draxum wouldn't get into too much trouble. 

"Scoff!" Donnie threw the hefty packet of rules down at his feet, offended. "What do you take us for: a pair of unhinged Frankensteins? Y'know, it'd be nice if, just for once, you guys would have a little faith in our scientific endeavors!" 

"It's not that we don't trust you guys," April explained, "It's just... you guys tend to get a little carried away with your projects, that's all!" 

"What's that suppose to mean?" 

"The last time Barry was in a lab, he created the Oozesquitos," April folded her arms, "And don't get me started about the time you messed with your brother's brains."

"Okay! I get it!" Donnie sighed. He picked up the packet of rules and flapped the dust out from its pages. "We won't get carried away: Todd scout's honor." 

April smiled, "Thanks, Dee." 

"Yes, well, if you'll excuse me, Draxum and I were just about to partake in our latest  scientific acquisition: Professor Philo's Chemistry Set for the At-Home Scientist!" Donnie started off for his lab, tucking the packet into a compartment in his battle-shell.

April shook her head, smiling as she headed inside the living room, where the sounds of 8-bit gaming welcomed her. Raph and Mikey were too invested in whatever racing game they were playing to notice April. 

"Soo, how'd it go?" Leo asked from his beanbag chair. "Is Donnie mad that we're afraid he'll bring Potatozilla into existence or what?"

"I say he handled it pretty well!" April plopped herself down in the recliner. "I told Donnie that we just wanted to make sure he and Draxum toned it down a bit, that's all." 

"See? I told you he'd listen to April!" Mikey grinned smugly at Leo.

Leo rolled his eyes, "Whatever." He went back to scrolling his social feed on his phone, "I'll believe it when they don't create a giant mutant potato or somethin'."

"Be nice, Leo," April swung her legs over the armrest. "We've gotta have a little faith in 'em. Besides, I've never seen Donnie this happy since-" 

KA-BOOOOOOM!!!

A powerful tremor shook the lair, taking everyone by surprise. The trinkets Splinter's 'Do Not Touch' cabinet rattled and shook, a few of the lighter items clattered to the floor. April held onto the armchair with Raph steadying it before it could topple over backward. Mikey hid inside of his shell out of reflex as Leo jumped to his feet, prepared to face whatever threat was upon them.

"Omigosh!" Mikey exclaimed, popping his head out of his shell. "What was that?!" 

"You don't think DIGG's tryin' to take down the Kaufman Coliseum again?" Raph frowned, trying to rub the ringing out from his ears. 

"Um, guys?" Leo sniffed the air, "Does anyone else smell something burning, or is that Raph's 'Taken-By-Surprise' stink?" 

Raph sniffed at his underarm, "Nope. It's not me!" 

April and Mikey took a moment to smell the air, their noses wrinkled at the familiar acrid odor of smoke. 

And smoke could only mean one thing: something was on fire. 

Oh no! Donnie! Barry! April's stomach dropped over the thought. She bolted out of the living room with Raph, Leo, and Mikey right behind her. "Please let it be a giant mutant potato!" 

It wasn't a giant mutant potato. 

By the time they entered the atrium, a thick cloud of smoke had spilled out from the mouth of Donnie's lab, billowing up into the rafters above. Although they couldn't see it, they could hear the fire roaring from deep within the lab.

"Mad Dogz!" Raph barked, "Initiate ‘Fire Safety Plan Alpha!’"  “FSssPAH!” Mikey pronounced the acronym from the back of the group.

But before Raph could lead the rescue, Draxum leaped out from the smoke carrying Donnie in his arms; their matching lab coats singed. Shelldon flew out, not too far behind, with Huginn and Munnin holding onto his back. 

"Barry!" April ran up to the soot-stained alchemist. "What happened?! I thought y'all we're gonna take things easy? Didn’t y’all read the packet?!" 

"We were," Draxum rasped, passing Donnie's limp body into Raph's arms. "If it weren't for a pair of idle hands." He gave his gargoyles a sharp look while removing the safety goggles from his face, leaving clean rings around his eyes.

Munnin's wings sagged, "The instructions weren't joking when it said 'everything in this chemistry set is a fire hazard.'"

"Yeah, including the instructions," Huginn hung his head, "Our bad."

"So, how're we suppose to handle this whole situation?" Leo asked, gesturing to the raging inferno that was (formally) Donnie's lab.

"I'm on it, dudes!" Shelldon replied, concentrating on his emergency protocols hardwired into his drives.

The fire-alarm system blared to life. Then came the hissing of the sprinklers going off and the gush of extinguishing foam spraying deep within the lab. Slowly, the smoke was beginning to ease up, much to everyone's relief.

Slowly, Donnie began to stir, groaning as he slowly regained consciousness, "Ugh... what? M-my lab..." His confusion morphed into panic as he realized the severity of the situation. "My lab!!" He squirmed feebly in Raph's arms, mortified.

"Woah, take it easy," Raph held Donnie against him, firm enough to subdue him yet careful not to hurt him. "That chemistry set of yours nearly got you guys barbequed." 

Donnie frowned, "No, you don't understand!" His eyes stung with tears as he thought of his life's work gone in a blaze of unsupervised stupidity. "Everything's ruined!"

"Hey, you don't know that for sure!" April gently touched Donnie's shoulder. "Besides, what's important is you're both okay!" 

"April's right," Mikey agreed, clinging to Draxum's side, "We're glad y'all made it out safely. A little flambéed, but you get the idea."

"But my lab," Donnie emphasized. 

"Lab shmab, we can worry about that later!" Leo nudged Draxum with his elbow. "For now, let's focus on getting you toasted marshmallows taken care of."

"Yeah, what Leo said!" Raph adjusted Donnie in his arms, heading for the bathroom where the first aid kit was kept. "Just you wait; maybe it's not as bad as you think!"

                                                            -x-

Raph's sense of judgment was always a mixed bag, and this time, he couldn't have been farther from the truth. 

The lab was a smoldering mess, virtually unrecognizable to the Turtles, Draxum, and April. The walls were blackened, and the smell of burnt wiring and computer parts hung sourly in the air. Puddles of foam and water gathered in parts of the floor, adding to the disarray.

Donnie searched desperately for anything salvageable, but the prospects were slim to none. The bandaged Softshell approached the remnants of his workstation, absolutely gutted. He reached for what was once a prototype for a new battle shell, but it crumbled into ash in his hands. 

"Alas, this must've been what it felt like to lose the Library of Alexandria," Donnie mourned poetically, sinking to his knees. Shelldon drifted up to his heartbroken creator, pressing his head against Donnie's side like the loyal drone he was.

"Okaaayyy, so it's a little charbroiled in here," Leo cringed. "But if anyone can fix this, it's you!" 

"Do you have any idea how long that'll take me?" Donnie moaned, overwhelmed by the daunting task. "It took me years of refurbishing junk and computer parts, and now I have nothing! Zilch! Nada! No equipment, no materials, no anything!"

Donnie's outburst left the others speechless. They had seen him upset before, but nothing to this extent. 

Quietly, Draxum approached Donatello, "As someone who has lost their life's work twice, I understand your plight," he said, joining the turtle on the floor. "However, unlike myself, you are fortunate not to face this endeavor alone. You have your friends, your brothers, and... your lab partner," Draxum looked off to the side, somewhat flustered by the sentimental mushiness his words implied. 

"Draxibald's right, Donnie!" Mikey beamed. He was so proud of Barry for stepping up to the plate. He popped up in between them, slinging his arms over their shoulders, "You've got us to help you! We'll have your lab up and running in no time!"

Leo smiled, "Yeah, with you bossing us around, we can totally get the job done!"

"But a total rebuild of this scope requires a certain level of technological sophistication!" Donnie deflated, "So unless you know of any tech-savvy geniuses out there, I don't see how any of this is possible."

"Oh, I know a guy," April answered, "And I'm lookin' right at him~" She smiled at Donnie, who didn't know how to process the compliment. "Have a little faith in yourself, Dee!"  Donnie blinked, stunned that his own words were used against him.

"Yeah, you said so yourself!” Raph joined in, “You and that big brain of yours built this lab out of nothin' but junk! If there's anyone who can build back better than ever, it's you! So whaddya say, Don?"

Donnie looked at Raph's hand extended out to him. He then glanced over at Leo, Mikey, and April, all eagerly awaiting his response. He turned to Draxum, who gave a curt nod.

Touched by the support of his family, Donnie wiped away a tear from the corner of his eye, "I say let's order some pizzas and chop-chop! Rome wasn't built in a day, people! We've got our work cut out for us!"  He took Raph’s hand and was lifted up from the ground.  Yes, Donnie supposed he could have a little faith in himself, and everyone else as well.

[peculiarpatches]

𝑜𝑛𝑒 𝑖𝑠 𝑔𝑜𝑜𝑑 𝑏𝑢𝑡 𝑓𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑖𝑠 𝑏𝑒𝑡𝑡𝑒𝑟 - 𝑛𝑎𝑡 𝑥 𝑏𝑢𝑐𝑘𝑦 𝑥 𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑣𝑒 𝑥 𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑒𝑟

I originally wrote this for another pair within a fandom I’m in but decided to use it for these three instead!! 

So, a few notes: Bucky and Natasha are lovers in this because not going to lie, I actually really like the thought of them together..... so, if that isn’t your cup of tea, don’t like it = don’t read it :)  

That’s honestly about it, though. 

If you want to help support me and my writing, here’s a link to do so. 

(I will, once I get my own place and am settled down, will also begin to do commissions!) 

WARNINGS: this story includes  PWP. Not really a plot whatsoever. There’s fingering, anal, oral, dirty talk, uhhh... I’m not sure what else. Male on Male, Female on Female. That’s about all I can think of..... enjoy!!

Silence fills the air, other than the obvious breathing pattern of each person's  chest falling up and down. If you listened closely, however, you could hear the faucet dripping into the sink, each drop reverberating around the room like a cymbal, yet nobody hardly blinks or moves to turn it off. More than likely, nobody acknowledges it.

 Nobody other than (Y/N), of course. The sound was obnoxious and if she wasn't so scared to move a muscle, she would have gotten up by now and turned it off before attempting to bolt out the door, not wanting to deal with the fight that was, most likely, bound to explode.   It was driving her crazy  — the silence within the room, the quietness all around her. She felt as if she were choking, the hands belonging to nothing other than her anxious thoughts.  It was her and her boyfriend, Steve Rogers and his best friend, Bucky Barnes then finally, her best friend, Natasha Romanoff.   And nobody was saying a word.  And finally, when somebody did, Steve was the first one to speak.    "So... can one of you, please, just tell me what the fuck happened?"  As the question is asked, he turns to (Y/N) and Natasha,  his eyebrows knitted together, while his lips are pressed in a thin white line as he waits for an answer.  "Nat, what happened?" Bucky questioned, clearly as confused as Steve was, if not more.  "I don't know, okay? Steve, why don't you ask your girlfriend, huh? She isn't as faithful as she seems to be. She's the one who started everything." "Huh?" Steve's face paled over as he turned to look at (Y/N). "What's she on about?"  "Gee, Nat, thanks a lot. You're so great at keeping a secret... well, Nat wasn't supposed to mention it but.... well, you see-" "(Y/N) and I slept together." Natasha blurted out, a look of relief replacing the once look of fear on her face as she sighed and threw her face into her hands, murmuring apology after apology. 

Who it was directed for, nobody was sure. Most likely the statement was meant for Bucky but if (Y/N) had to take a guess, it was to everyone, herself included.  "We got slightly drunk... okay, we got trashed.....  and, uh... one thing lead to another. And Nat is right, I kissed her first but I actually didn't mean to," (Y/N) confessed. 

 "Okay, I take that back.... I did mean to do it but listen, we were drunk and she spilled half the bottle of wine on her shirt and we went to go clean her up and she took off her shirt and I  never really realized how pretty another girl was until Nat and-" "Okay, okay, spare the details, please." Bucky shook his head as he pinched the bridge of his nose. He exhaled a breath before dropping his hand down at his sides, looking over at Steve, Natasha and (Y/N). 

 "Look.... it's obvious. (Y/N), you love Steve and I know he loves you back... Nat, I know for a fact you love me, and I love you. It's alright, okay? I'm not mad. I'm not upset, either. I'm glad you actually told me the truth rather than kept it as a secret." Bucky admitted.   All three turned to Steve who looked deep in thought and once he realized everyone was staring at him, he was quick to snap out of it and come back down into reality.  "I'm not too upset about it, either. I mean... it's someone we both know, right, Buck? It wasn't a stranger. I guess that has to count for something.  I know neither of you meant to hurt us and let me just say, you didn't hurt my feelings either, baby... Neither did you, Nat.   "However.... you two acted like dirty whores therefore I think  Bucky and I need to show you who you belong to and although you might've made each other feel good, we're here now to make you feel even better. We're here to teach you a lesson." Steve's eyes sparkled with seduction while Bucky's eyes were blown and wide, as if he never expected that to happen. Which, nobody expected that to come out of Steve's mouth.  "Bucky, did you hear what I said?" Steve turns and glances at Bucky. "You do want to show Nat who she belongs to, don't you?" "I... I mean-" He stammers, face flushing a crimson before he's being talked over by Natasha. "Please? I'm all yours, only ever want to be yours.... and I-I'd like for you to show me who I belong to," Natasha  begged, giving Bucky  a pout, her eyes nearly glistening with tears as she speaks.   "Punish me, I deserve it for disobeying you."  "Shit... Okay, yeah." Bucky says, nodding his head rather rapidly.  "I.... uh.... is it okay if Steve takes the lead, though? I-I'm not quite sure what to do."  "No worries. Just do as I do but with your girl," Steve said with a smile. He then turns his attention back onto (Y/N) before gesturing her over with his index finger. 

 Like a trained puppy, (Y/N) is quick to oblige and get up from where she was sitting at and walks in front of her boyfriend. "Baby, listen, I really am sorry about all of this, I couldn't help-"  (Y/N)'s cut off due to Steve pushing her down onto the floor, her knees hitting the ground (which luckily was carpeted). 

 "I will only ever say this once, alright? Shut up." He growled, the look of seduction now growing darker in his pupils. (Y/N) had never seen him full of such hunger and fire before... she was ready to be burnt, however, if Steve was the one that sparked the first flame.   "If you'd like to regain my trust back, put that mouth to good use, hm?" 

 Undoing his belt, pulling it through the loops and unbuttoning his jeans right after he's gotten his belt off,  Steve takes his cock out which was already leaking with precum. He holds it up to his girlfriend as if his cock was a prized possession he was rewarding to her. And in a situation like this, it very well might be considered as such. "Come here, pretty girl. Take my cock, suck it like a lollipop, yeah? Give Bucky and Nat here a show." (Y/N) was quick to hollow in her cheeks and give Steve a blowjob, licking away as if his dick truly was nothing more than a lollipop from the store. 

While she gave her boyfriend a blowjob (and was trying not to gag around his wide and thick length) Natasha and Bucky were quick to strip out of their own clothes, dropping it onto the ground once they were fully embracing their birthday suits.  "You like that?" Bucky asked, grabbing ahold of Natasha's hair, making her turn to look at (Y/N) and Steve. He felt awful, at first, not wanting to be too rough with his girlfriend but the moment he had done it, a moan slipped right past her lips which.... okay, wow, he'll have to do that more often, considering she had liked it so much.   "Like to see your best friend's mouth wrapped around her boyfriend's cock? Was that mouth of hers on your pussy?" Natasha whined in response and nodded rapidly. "Uh huh, ye-yes. it was."  "Fucking filthy girl you are, Nat." Bucky pushes Natasha's face back into the couch cushions as his hand comes down in contact with her ass. "Nasty, dirty little whore couldn't wait for me, could she? You had to go and have your best friend do the dirty work you, oh so, badly were seeking." Bucky slaps Natasha's ass, once, twice, thrice. "Aw..." He cooed, his fingers dipping into Natasha's slit as he glides his digit across Natasha's  throbbing wet pussy. "My gorgeous girl.... are you getting turned on by this, huh?" Bucky chuckled huskily as he looked over at Steve and (Y/N). "What about you, Rogers? Your girl all soaked from being a bad, misbehaving bitch?" Steve, who was fucking his girlfriend's face, nods and grunts in reply. "Yeah, fuck - she is... What should our punishment be for them?" Steve questioned as he pushed (Y/N) off of his cock as he fisted his throbbing, aching dick which was just begging for a release and before either one realizes it, thick ropes of cum are being thrown all over (Y/N)'s face and being the cumslut she was, she's more than happy to lick it all up and swallow every last drop of cum that was splattered onto her face.  "I'm not sure," Bucky admitted.  "We could always fuck each other..... So, how about you and I do the same?" Steve suggested. Bucky's eyes widened, even more than they had done earlier.  There was no way he was being serious.... was he? "Steve-" "You'd look so good,"  surprisingly, it was Natasha that said this.  "You'd look so good," She repeated, sitting up a bit therefore her voice wouldn't be too muffled against the couch.

 "Taking Steve's semen in your ass.... his cum dripping down your cheeks and your thighs, please, baby? Wanna see you being fucked by Steve. If you do this, I promise I'll be a good girl from now on. I won't touch any guy or girl ever again, for that matter. Only will touch you. How about you be a good boy for Steve, hm?" "Please, Bucky..... if I had known (Y/N) and I were going to do what we did..... I would've stolen your camera and recorded us. I know you would've loved that...  would have loved seeing your girlfriend getting her pussy ate by her best friend. (Y/N) and I grinding against each other's cunts.... cumming all over each other like two, bad girls..... maybe, fuck.... if you want, we can show you two exactly it was we all did? My memory is still kind of in a haze, blurry from that night but.... I'm sure (Y/N) will help bring back those memories, won't you?" (Y/N) hardly was listening to a word Natasha had said. Truth be told, the sight of Steve being behind Bucky shouldn't be such a turn on, yet for some reason, it was. She just hoped that little fantasy of hers would become a reality.  And listen, the same thought was running in Bucky's mind.

 It shouldn't turn him on but it does and before he knows it, Bucky is making his way over to the opposite side of the couch,  pulling his pants down to his ankles and bending forward, his ass up for Steve to do whatever he wishes to do with it.     Steve actually didn't expect this scenario to happen,  - AT ALL - he can't lie and say he too wasn't a bit turned on at the way Bucky was so willingly allowing him to fuck him from behind. As Steve preps Bucky up with saliva and his fingers, Natasha and (Y/N) are sat next to each other, toying with their pussies. (The same way they had done when they slept together.) Natasha's fingers were on (Y/N)'s clit while Natasha was currently being fingered by (Y/N) who was thrusting her fingers in and out at a painfully slow pace.

     Once Steve believes Bucky is slick enough with spit and stretched open enough to put his cock in his asshole, Steve pushes the tip of his head inside, a low groan bubbling up out of his throat.

 "Oh, God."  "Fuck!" Bucky whimpered, biting down on the pillow that had been lying in front of him.  "It'll be okay, I promise." (Y/N) said like she knew the pain that he was going through. Which she did. What? Her and Steve's sex life could get pretty kinky. 

 "Listen to her, Buck.. It gets better." Natasha promises because she too knew how it felt. (Of course, she never admitted that until this very moment.)  "Listen to our girls, Buck... It's going to get better." Steve said in between groans, grabbing Bucky's hair, he thrusts in and out, all slow and at a gentle, steady pace until the pain that Bucky is feeling is replaced with pleasure rather than pain. 

 "There we go," Steve smiled, feeling Bucky practically grinding back against his cock. "You're  a good boy, aren't you, Buck?" The two fuck like horny rabbits then, Steve fucking into Bucky's tight ass while Bucky grinded down against the couch. 

 The girls, meanwhile, were whining and fingering themselves now at the view. Everyone, truly, forgot that this was supposed to be a punishment. 

 "I'm going to come, I'm going to come." Steve announced, his eyes drooping closed as he latched his bottom lip inbetween his teeth.  "Cum for me, cum for me," Bucky chanted, his words slurred together as if he were drunk. Steve, with a loud piercing wail, comes undone and releases a flood of white,  filling Bucky's ass up with his orgasm.   Bucky cums not too long after, eyelids shut and breathing heavy as he makes a mess all over himself and the floor. While the boys tried to get their breathing back under control, (Y/N) crawls over and positions herself on Steve's cock, sinking herself down on his length. (Of course, not without grabbing a nearby shirt and cleaning his cock off, as it just had been inside Bucky.) "Come here, Nat, Show me how you rode (Y/N)'s fingers last night. Ride my cock, babygirl." Natasha does the same thing as her best friend had done and with a trembling moan, she sinks down on her boyfriend's cock, throwing her head back at the sudden overwhelming sensation that makes her body wither and shake. "That's it, fuck.... Fuck yourself down onto my cock, angel. Ride my dick so good, take me in so good." Bucky praises, hands reaching up as he strokes her nipples with his thumb, making them as hard as ever as he brushes them over and over. Steve, meanwhile, was growling in (Y/N)'s eat as he thrusted up inside of her, getting her closer and closer to the reach of her orgasm.

 "Though, the visual of you eating out Natasha is hot, you are still Daddy and Daddy's only cumslut, you are mine, do you understand?"  (Y/N) nods weakly, nails digging into Steve's chest as she murmurs, 'yes, yes, yes'.  "Yes, what?" "Yes, Daddy." (Y/N) whispers, tucking her face into the crook between Steve's neck and shoulder and while biting down at his skin, she thrusts down against his swollen, eager to cum cock as she builds up her orgasm.  Everyone does their own thing until they reach their peak and cum. The girls then ease themselves off of their boyfriend's cocks, their eyes wide and their hearts thumping wildly against their chests.

 "You know.... maybe, one day, we should all do this again. The four of us, I mean." Steve turned to look at his girlfriend, a worn out smile tugging at the corner of his lips as he grinned over at her, chuckling at how exhausted she appeared to be.  "I think I like that idea too, Steve." Bucky admitted sheepishly.   "You know what they say.... one is good but four is better."   "Very well said, Barnes." "We'll have to do this again," Bucky said, echoing what Steve had said as he tried to get his breathing back under control. Steve nodded in agreement. "Yeah, without a doubt.... I know this won't be the last time we do this." He said with a seductive smile.

[blessedarethebinarybreakers]

Answer asap (I feel bad saying that, but I'm stuck). Do you have any resources for dating/not dating non-christians? A dear friend of mine told me they care for me, and I feel the same for them, but... all the resources online warn again and again not to date non-christians lest they endanger my faith. I feel like going forward with this would be ignorant at best and would set us both up for heartbreak. And I fear my fear itself would lead to me trying to convert them. But I still care for them.

Hey, anon! Thanks for reaching out -- the rhetoric among many Christians against interfaith relationships, particularly with the argument that they’re “unequally yoked,” is something I haven’t addressed in years, and have been meaning to discuss again. 

Little disclaimer at the start that this stuff is so contextual, and it’s personal -- I don’t know your life as well as you do, or this friend of yours like you do. Maybe what i say doesn’t fit you and your situation. 

_____________

To begin, I firmly believe that interfaith relationships can be and often are truly beautiful, holy partnerships. (This includes relationships in which one or multiple members identifies as an atheist / otherwise doesn’t ascribe to a particular religion.) 

When both (or all) members are respectful of one another’s beliefs, and find as much joy in learning as in teaching their partner(s), their unique perspectives can deeply enrich one another. You can bear good fruit together that glorifies God and nourishes others. 

This being said, you definitely want to at least begin working through your worries and fears before starting to date this person. If you enter the relationship overwhelmed with fear or guilt about dating them, it’ll bring a lot of resentment and angst. The rest of this post points out things you’ll want to reflect on and read up on before entering this or any interfaith relationship -- and offers resources that can help.

_________

Interfaith Partners: Always “Unequally Yoked”?

I’m sure you’ve seen a certain phrase on those websites you mentioned, drawn from 2 Corinthians 6:14 -- “unequally yoked.”  I’m going to end this post with some alternative ways of interpreting this verse, but what Christians who advise against interfaith relationships take it to mean is something like this:

Just as two animals yoked to the same plow should be of equal strength and on the same page so that one doesn’t do more of the work, or get tugged away from the work by the other one, two partners should also be of equal “spiritual” strength and on the same page when it comes to their faith...

And of course, these people will say, a person who is Christian is definitely spiritually stronger than any non-Christian -- and a non-Christian might just pull them away from The Way, getting them to skip church or prayers or even stop being Christian entirely.

But there are a lot of assumptions there that don’t hold true in every relationship, right? First off, who says every Christian is necessarily “spiritually stronger” than every non-Christian? To claim that is to assume that non-Christians don’t also have access to spirituality or to the Divine -- which I’m going to push against throughout this post. 

Furthermore, the assumption that a non-Christian partner will definitely harm your own Christian faith doesn’t have to be true, as I’ll get to in a second.

So yeah, keeping these assumptions about an interfaith relationship being inherently “unequally yoked” in mind, and with a plan on returning to this phrase at the end, let’s move on to specific things you should think about before entering an interfaith relationship. 

______________

Must a non-Christian partner “endanger” your faith -- or can they enrich it?

If being open to learning about how our fellow human beings perceive the world, humanity, and the divine “endangers one’s faith,” perhaps that kind of faith was not made to last. Perhaps it has to give way in order to birth a new, deeper faith -- a faith that is bold enough to wrestle with God as Jacob did; broad enough to survive questions and doubts and times of grief; and wise enough to perceive the Spirit blowing wherever She will (John 3:8), not only among Christians.

If your partner truly respects you and your faith even if it’s different from theirs, they’ll do what they can to help you be the best Christian you can be -- or at the very least, they will give you the space and time you need to go to church, pray, etc. And you will do the same, helping them to be the best Muslim, Buddhist, or simply person they can be.

I highly recommend asking this friend of yours before you start dating what their thoughts are on your being a Christian, and/or on Christianity in general.

Is it something that makes them happy for you? is it something that makes them deeply uncomfortable? or something that they don’t have strong feelings one way or the other on? .

How “involved” would they be open to being in your faith? Would they be interested in going to church with you, as long as they could trust you weren’t trying to force them into anything? Would they enjoy talking about your varying beliefs together and how they impact your lives? Or would they never ever want you to bring up Christianity (which I imagine for you would be a deal breaker)? .

Be open and honest with one another about what expectations you each have about things like boundaries around discussing faith, about time and space you each want for practicing your faith, etc. As you seem aware, it’s better to get all this clear before you start dating, to avoid problems later down the road! 

For an example of what such discussions might look like, I found this story from Robert Repta, a Christian man married to a Jewish man. Their union, he says, has included working out what it means not only to be gay persons of faith, but also persons of two different faiths:

“Ultimately, what happened was that in our struggles to find ourselves, we ended up growing closer together. We both supported and challenged each other. We began asking each other bigger life questions and talking about religion, God, science. Both of our lives were evolving, and what started to happen was that we started seeing the similarities in our core beliefs more than the differences. Some of those beliefs even evolved along the way.

We both believed in God. We both believed that God is love. We volunteered together. He would occasionally come with me to church, and I would occasionally go with him to the synagogue. Eventually, I could see that the common thread between us was unconditional love. The same unconditional love of God.”

_____________

On pressuring a non-Christian partner to convert -- assumptions about Christian superiority & fearing for their afterlife destination

It’s really good you recognize that it might end up being hard for you not to try to get this person to convert! Before dating them, you should keep reflecting on this and decide whether that’s something you can let go of or not. If it’s not, then you’re probably right in thinking this relationship won’t work out. 

It would be highly disrespectful to this person you care about to pressure them to become a Christian in order for you to feel okay about being with them. (And for more thoughts on how evangelism and conversion as carried out by many Christians isn’t what Jesus had in mind, see this post.) Doing so would imply a lot of things, including that you don’t think they’re a worthy or equal partner unless they make this big change, that whatever beliefs or ideologies they currently hold are inferior to yours, etc.

In order for your interfaith relationship to go well, you would need to come to understand non-Christians as being equally made in God’s image, equally worthy of dignity, equally capable of doing good in the world. You’d have to come to believe that there is much of value within their own religion / ideology that you as a Christian could learn from. 

Let’s bring in our lovely Christian/Jewish couple from before: as his relationship with David developed, Robert discovered that 

“God is not conformed to this world we live in; God does not belong solely to the Pentecostals or the Baptists, to the Jews or Gentiles, to Muslims or Zoroastrians. Two of the most profound self-identifiers God calls himself in the Bible is “love” and “I am.””

Here are a few resources that can help you explore the idea that other religions are as valid as Christianity and also have much wisdom to bring to the world:

I highly recommend you check out the book Holy Envy by Barbara Brown Taylor to help you explore how you can be a devout Christian and learn from and form mutual relationships with persons who are not Christian. You can check out passages from the book in my tag here. .

You might also like my two podcast episodes on interfaith relationships (in general, not romantic ones, but the same material applies) -- episode 30, “No One Owns God: Readying yourself for respectful interfaith encounters” and episode 31, “It's good to have wings, but you have to have roots too": Cultivating your faith while embracing religious pluralism.” You can find links to both episodes as well as their transcripts over on this webpage. .

There might also be some helpful stuff in my #interfaith tag or #other faiths tag if you wander around. .

Simply getting to know whatever religion this friend does belong to (or what ideologies and value systems they maintain if they’re atheist / non-religious) can also be super helpful. Ask them what resources they can think of that can help get to know their religion as they experience it. Attend worship service (virtually works!), seek out folks on social media who share their religion, etc. I bet you’ll find a lot that you have in common -- and hopefully you’ll find some of the differences thought-provoking and enriching to your own understandings of Divinity!

I’m guessing a lot of your worry stems from the assumption that non-Christians don’t go to heaven. If you believe that not being a Christian leads to hell after death, it’s very hard to view non-Christians and their beliefs as equal to your own!

That Holy Envy book discusses this genuine fear many Christians have on behalf of non-Christians, and how to let it go.  .

Here’s a post with links to other posts describing the belief that many faithful and serious Christians hold that non-Christians don’t all get whisked to hell. .

And a post on the harm done by fearmongering about hell. .

Finally, a little more on the academic side but if you’re interested in some history behind Christian views of hell that can help you see that there really is no one “true” belief here, check out the links in this post.

_______

Reinterpreting “unequally yoked”

I said we’d get back to this, and here we are! While the easiest to find interpretation of 2 Corinthians 6:14′s “Do not be unequally yoked together with unbelievers” is that it argues against interfaith marriage, there are other ways to read this text.

I adore this article I found on the passage from a Christian minister who is married to a Hindu monk -- “Unequally Yoked”: How Christians Get Interfaith Marriage Wrong.” Incredibly, Rev. J. Dana Trent writes that when she and her now-husband dug into 2 Corinthians 6:14 to see what it was all about, she found that 

“An ancient scripture meant to deter us from getting involved with each other actually brought us together. Our core beliefs in God became the focus of our study and relationship, not the issues that divided us.”

She also explains that biblical scholars say this verse isn’t even specifically about interfaith marriage -- which becomes clear when you read the full chapter surrounding it! It’s more general -- about the hazards of “working with” an unbeliever.

And what exactly is an unbeliever? Paul and other “believers” of these very early days of Christianity had a different definition than we might today -- an “unbeliever” wasn’t synonymous with “non-Christian,” because Christianity hadn’t even solidified into an actual religion yet! Instead, a nonbeliever was "anyone exposed to but was not faithful to Christ’s teachings—someone not characterized by devotion, love, peace, mercy, and forgiveness.” 

In other words, if a person in those early days was told about the good news of Jesus that entailed things like liberation of the oppressed and love of neighbor, they didn’t have to “become a Christian” to accept that good news. And thus, Rev. Trent continues,

“Today, my husband’s deep Hindu faith has taught me to dig deeper into what Jesus would have me do. Perhaps Paul might have even considered me an “unbeliever,” as I claimed to be a baptized Christian, but my life did not inwardly and outwardly reflect the Gospel. Since marrying Fred, I re-attuned my life to Christian spiritual practices: spending more time in contemplative prayer, practicing non-violence through a vegetarian diet, limiting my consumption, and increasing my service to others.

Much to many Christians’ dismay, it took a person of another faith—a seemingly “unequally yoked” partner, to strengthen my Christian walk.”

Isn’t it beautiful to hear how this relationship between a Christian minister and Hindu monk has born good fruit for both of them? They help one another become the best Christian and best Hindu they can be, respectively. They are both so deeply committed to faith -- that doesn’t sound like an “unequal yoking” to me.

______

Whew, this got long! But it’s a big topic, and one I hope you’ll take the time to explore. Bring God into it; bring your friend into as much as they’re comfortable. And feel free to come back and ask me more questions as you go.

If anyone knows of other articles or other resources that explore the good fruit that can come from an interfaith partnership, please share! 

[wiypt-writes]

Stark Spangled Banner

Ch15: That Tie Looks Real Expensive

Summary: On the run from SHIELD, Katie and Steve find Natasha at the hospital when they head back for the memory drive. Their search for the truth leads Steve on yet another trip down memory lane and, as more truths bubble to the surface, the three of them are left running for their lives and are forced to seek help…

Pairing: Steve Rogers x OFC Katie Stark

Warnings: Language! Violence, and someone gets pushed off a roof but he’s Hydra so, meh.

Disclaimer: This is a pure work of fiction and classified as 18+. Please respect this and do not read if you are underage. I do not own any characters in this series bar Katie Stark and the other OCs. By reading beyond this point you understand and accept the terms of this disclaimer.

A/N: Not one but TWO edits from @angrybirdcr​ in this one!!

Chapter 14

Stark Spangled Banner Masterlist // Main Masterlist

 After a bit of a skirmish on the bridge out of the Triskellion involving a Quinjet and some nasty looking road blocks, they made it out relatively unscathed all things considered and headed to the boxing gym they trained at so Steve could change. Katie told him to leave his suit behind in the hope that the tracking systems would give whoever came looking for them a bit of a detour. At her suggestion, in an attempt to keep them as unnoticeable as possible, he also locked his shield in his locker, with the view they’d collect it when it was safe to do so.

They reached the hospital with no further issues. Katie was feeling the effects of the fight in the elevator and the leap of faith they’d taken out of it and was stiff and bruised but she did her best to keep pace with Steve as they strode down the corridor. When they reached the vending machine, Steve stopped and peered into it, frowning as he realised the row where he had hidden the stick was empty. Then someone appeared behind them, and he saw Natasha’s reflection in the machine, blowing bubbles from the gum she’d obviously bought to retrieve the stick.

Steve spun round, temper reaching boiling point as he grabbed her by the neck in a display of anger Katie had rarely seen from him, pushing her into a room opposite.

“What happened to you?” She looked at Katie’s face, her eyes taking in the bruising around her left cheekbone and the split in her lip.

“Rumlow.” Katie snapped back, unwilling to discuss any further. Her patience with this whole situation was running thin and she was sick of not knowing who she could trust. She had resigned from SHIELD for this precise reason, and here she was, getting dragged once more back into their shit.

“Where is it?” Steve demanded, looking at Nat as he reached up and threw down his hood.

“Safe.”

“Do better.” Katie suggested, glaring at the woman she thought was her friend, not sure anymore whether or not to trust the red-head.

“Where did you get it?” Natasha asked.

“Why would I tell you?” Steve countered.

“Fury gave it to you,” she narrowed her eyes at him. “Why?”

“What’s on it?” Steve ask, ignoring her question.

“I don’t know,” Natasha answered.

 Steve lightly slammed her against the wall his patience thinning quickly, anger blazing from every inch of his body. “Stop lying,” he said through gritted teeth.

“I only act like I know everything, Rogers.”

“I bet you knew Fury hired the pirates, didn’t you?” Katie said, looking at her.

“Well, it makes sense. The ship was dirty, Fury needed a way in…”

Katie let out a frustrated laugh before she spun around away from Natasha, groaning.

“I’m not gonna ask you again,” Steve threatened.

“I know who killed Fury.” Natasha spoke as Katie turned to face her again. “Most of the intelligence community doesn’t believe he exists. The ones who do call him the Winter Soldier. He’s credited with over two dozen assassinations in the last fifty years.”

“So he’s a ghost story.” Steve concluded releasing her and taking a step back.

“Five years ago, I was escorting a nuclear engineer out of Iran and somebody shot out my tires near Odessa.” She said, looking him straight in the eyes “We lost control, went straight over a cliff. I pulled us out, but the Winter Soldier was there. I was covering my engineer, so he shot him, straight through me.”

Natasha pulled up her shirt, revealing a scar on her lower left abdomen.

“Soviet slug, no rifling. Bye bye, bikinis.”

“Yeah, I bet you look terrible in them now.” Steve half joked.

“Going after him is a dead end. I know, I’ve tried.” Nat stated before she pulled out the thumb drive and held it out for all of them to see.

Steve eyed her before taking it and putting it in his pocket before he looked at Katie then back to Natasha.

“Let’s find out what the ghost wants.”

*****

“You know you could have picked something a little more subtle.” Nat hummed as she lounged in the backseat of the truck that they had taken from an industrial estate opposite the gym when they had stopped to pick up Steve’s shield and ditch Nat’s Corvette on their way out to New Jersey.

They had gotten what they needed from the Mall, including the location of where the AI that kept countering Natasha’s commands on the pen drive was coming from, which to Steve’s shock had been Camp Lehigh, the place he had trained and been selected for Operation Rebirth. After a close shave with the STRIKE team, in which Katie and Natasha’s stealth skills really had been put to the test, although Steve hadn’t objected to one part in particular where he’d had to kiss his girl on the escalator, they had bolted for Natasha’s car and made it out, unscathed and thankfully with a few new changes of clothes each.

“It’s a truck, lots of men drive trucks.” Steve replied, as he comfortably drove with one hand on the wheel, the other on the gearshift, eyes focussed on the road.

“Because they think it looks cool when in fact it just makes them look like douchebags who are compensating for something.” Nat responded.

Despite himself, Steve couldn’t help but quip back playfully. “Maybe I am.” “Well I know that’s not true” Nat replied, her voice full of a smirk. “Katie told me.”

Steve felt his cheeks flush as Katie shifted in the seat beside him, whipping her head round to face the woman. “Jesus, Nat!”

“What were your exact words?” Natasha continued, a teasing expression on her face. “Oh yeah, if that thing wasn’t enhanced by the-“ “If you don’t shut up I’m gonna come back there and slap you into next week.” Katie hastily cut her off. She turned back round, glancing at Steve. His cheeks were flushed red with embarrassment but there was a faint trace of a smirk on his face, his eyes still focussed ahead. He could tell she was looking at him so he kept his eyes on the road, fully aware he blushing. But as far as discussing their sex life with her friend went, he supposed that there were far worse things she could be saying.

“So where did Captain America learn how to steal a car?” Natasha asked a few minutes later as Katie noticed that they were passing a sign welcoming them to New Jersey. All things considered they’d made pretty good time.

“Nazi Germany” Steve looked over his shoulder at her. “And we’re borrowing, take your feet off the seat.“

Natasha eyed him in the mirror, but did as she was told before she leant forward between the two front seats.

"Alright, I have a question for you both, which you do not have to answer. But I feel if you don’t answer it though, you’re kind of answering it, you know?”

“What?” Steve asked exasperatedly.

“So before in the Apple store… you guys were like engaged…” She began a hint of a smirk on her face. “Any chance of that happening for real?”

Katie moaned and, upon hearing her, Steve felt something in his stomach tighten.

"That bad an idea huh?” He asked stealing a glance over at her.

“I didn’t say that.” Katie sighed.

“No but it kinda sounded like that’s what you meant.” Steve continued.

“I not even gracing that with a response” Katie shot him a look.

“You gonna grace my other question with a response?”

“Which was?”

“Whether you’re gonna move in with me or not.” He stole another glance at her but before she could reply he felt Nat shift a little.

“You asked her?” She aised her eyebrows. “Will you fuck off?” Katie snapped. She’d had enough and well and truly reached her fill of Natasha’s sarcasm, of SHIELD, of everything.

“Take it easy Stark.” Nat drawled back, nonplussed. “You know, if you don’t want to answer a question straight you could try making something up.”

“What, like you?”  Katie scoffed, looking at her over her shoulder

“You know the truth is a matter of circumstances, it’s not all things to all people all the time. And neither am I.”

"That’s a hard way to live,” Steve commented as he took in the red-heads words. Besides him Katie shifted, agitatedly and he knew she was pissed. Natasha was supposed to be her friend and all this had shaken her trust.

“It’s a good way not to die, though.” Natasha mused unconcerned.

“You know, it’s kind of hard to trust someone when you don’t know who that someone really is.” Katie shot the red head a pointed look and Steve held his breath for the sarcastic response he was expecting back. He really didn’t want to have to split up a fight between the two. But knowing his girl as he did, he had a horrible feeling it would go that way if Natasha bit back. Thankfully, she didn’t, her tone was soft, almost wistful when she answered

“Yeah.” Natasha replied, looking through the window. “Who do you want me to be?”

“How about a friend?” Steve jumped in.

“Well, there’s a chance you might be in the wrong business, Rogers.” Natasha smirked returning to her comfortable position in the backseat.

They sat in silence for a bit and Katie turned to look at Steve. If there was one person in all this she could trust, she knew it was him. She had no idea what they were going to find, what they were going to walk into but she trusted him with her life, and loved him with every inch of her being. And she wanted him to know, in case this all went wrong, just how much.

Steve shifted in his seat as he could feel her eyes on him for a while before she spoke finally.

“I’m not gonna move in with you.”

Steve’s head whipped round, his mouth dry at her refusal, before he returned his attention to the road, trying not to read too much into her rejection, as she continued to speak.

“Your flat is full of bullet holes, your bed is in the wrong place and frankly it’s too small for all my stuff. You’ll have to move in with me.”

Wait, what? That wasn’t a refusal. 

He looked at her, aware a grin was spreading across his face. “Seriously?”

She nodded, returning her gaze to the front, and he did the same as her fingers tangled into his right hand where it was resting on the pillar between their seats, gently pulling it into her lap so she could trace shapes on his palm.

And, surprisingly, there was no sarcastic comment from the back seats.

*****

“It’s some kind of recording,” Natasha frowned as she tried to make sense of what was happening in front of them. They’d scoured the camp and after a long search, just as they were ready to give up, Steve had spotted that the munitions building was in the wrong place. Further investigations had led them into a huge, underground bunker and, after an hour or so more of searching, they had discovered a secret Elevator that led down to a huge room full of ancient computers…and a more modern USB terminal.

Natasha had plugged in the USB device into the port, which had activated the system and now, well, now Katie had no idea what the fuck they were looking at.

“I am not a recording, Fraulein. I may not be the man I was when the Captain took me prisoner in 1945.”

Steve sighed heavily as the computer screen showed a black and white photo of a familiar odd looking man with round glasses. Zola.

“Who is that?” Katie asked as Steve glared at the photo on the computer screen.

“Do you know this thing?” Natasha questioned sceptically.

“Armin Zola was a German scientist who worked for the Red Skull. He’s been dead for years,” Steve explained shortly as he walked round the back of the screen, looking for anything that would explain how it was working.

“First correction, I am Swiss. Second, look around you. I have never been more alive. In 1972, I received a terminal diagnosis. Science could not save my body. My mind, however, that was worth saving. Two hundred thousand feet of data banks. You are standing in my brain.” Zola explained.

“How did you get here?” Steve questioned, returning to the front of the television monitor.

“I was invited.”

“Operation Paperclip.” Natasha supplied as her and Katie exchanged a look.

“What?” Steve asked.

“After the War Shield recruited German scientists with strategic value.” Katie replied, her eyes still on the screen.

“They thought I could help their cause. I also helped my own.” Zola continued.

“HYDRA died with the Red Skull,” Steve snapped.

“Cut off one head, two more shall take its place.” Zola said confidently

“Prove it.” Steve challenged and Katie had to stifle a sigh as she was pretty sure they were going to regret that.

“Accessing archive.”

The computer screen began to screen old footage of the Red Skull and of the original SHIELD founders.

“HYDRA was founded on the belief that humanity could not be trusted with its own freedom. What we did not realize, was that if you try to take that freedom, they resist. The war taught us much. Humanity needed to surrender its freedom willingly. After the war, SHIELD was founded and I was recruited. The new HYDRA grew. A beautiful parasite inside SHIELD. For seventy years, HYDRA has been secretly feeding crisis, reaping war. And when history did not cooperate, history was changed.”

Various photos flashed up as he spoke of events through the course of modern history. Besides him Katie gulped when they reached the assassination of JFK, and the photo zoomed in on a grainy image of the masked man with the metal arm in the distance, aiming his rifle, The Winter Soldier.

“That’s impossible, SHIELD would have stopped you,” Natasha said quickly countering the computer.

“Accidents will happen.” The computer screen then revealed a very familiar item, the newspaper reporting Howard and Maria Stark’s deaths. Steve felt his mouth go dry as he realised what Zola was telling him, whilst besides him, Katie took a deep breath as she looked at the screen, her Parent’s faces looking back at her in black and white print. And then the ringing started in her ears.

Her parents had been killed. By HYDRA.

When she spoke again, her voice was as desperate as she was. Desperate for this to be nonsense. “No, that’s not… they died in an accident… it was a car crash…”

“Things are not what they seem.” The screen drawled back

“You killed them?” Katie’s chest was heaving, the anger now evident in her voice as it coursed through her veins, her voice loud as she balled her fists “HYDRA killed my parents? Why?”

A photo of Director Fury flashed up.

“HYDRA created a world so chaotic that humanity is finally ready to sacrifice its freedom to gain its security.” Pictures of three helicarriers were shown next, and Steve feltl the angry heat spread up his neck, blistering and raw. “Once the purification process is complete, HYDRA’s new world order will arise. We won, Captain. Your death amounts to the same as your Life; a zero sum.”

Steve’s anger boiled over, and it appeared Katie’s had as well as the pair of them surged forward. Katie lashed out with her right foot kicking over a chair in anger and Steve brought his right hand crashing into the TV, smashing the screen. It only resulted in silencing the Swiss man for a moment, before he spoke cockily once again from a different monitor

“As I was saying…”

"What’s on this drive?” Natasha asked quickly stepping in front of both Katie and Steve to avoid the pair of them destroying anything else.

“Project Insight requires insight. So I wrote an algorithm.”

“What kind of algorithm? What does it do?” Katie demanded.

“The answer to your question is fascinating. Unfortunately, you shall be too dead to hear it.”

Suddenly, the doors they came through started to close. Steve threw his shield attempting to catch them before they shut completely but it missed and he caught it as it ricocheted back.

“Guys, we got a bogey, short-range ballistics. Thirty seconds tops.” Natasha announced looking at her phone, her voice earnest.

“Who fired it?” asked Steve, as he starting to look for an alternative escape route.

“SHIELD.” She looked at him, then to Katie.

“Admit it Captain, it’s better this way. We’re both of us, out of time.” Warned Zola.

Katie looked around for any sign of a way out, knowing it was pointless. She spotted a grate in the floor not too far from where we were and yelled at Steve. Catching on to what she was saying, he easily threw the top off as Natasha pulled the drive out of the port that was on the desk.

“Get in!” Steve yelled. Natasha hopped down into the space, then Katie followed, the two girls getting as close to one another as they could to make room for Steve in the small space. He jumped down and pulled them both in close before holding his shield over their heads.

The missile hit a split second later. Instantly, heat, smoke and pressure surrounded the three of them. Steve could feel the ash in his throat and he had to fight with all his strength to keep his shield above them, as the debris from the collapsing building above rained down into the space they were hiding in. Letting out a groan he braced himself and simply stayed as strong as he could, and eventually the noise subsided. He could hear Katie’s heavy breathing as she struggled to maintain her calm, coughing slightly as she spoke.

“Nat?”

No answer.

Steve grunted again as he pushed against his shield trying to clear away the debris on top of it just enough to get out. He let out a sigh of relief as, following a third huge heave, light flooded down into the chamber. With another almighty shove, he managed to clear a path for him to climb out. He scrambled up, checked around to make sure it was safe and the he glanced down at the two women.

“You okay?” he asked.

“I am, but Nat’s passed out.” Katie blinked up at him, awkwardly shifting Natasha around carefully in order so Steve could lift her out. Carefully he set her down on the floor and then wrapped his hand around his girl’s wrist and pulled her out of the hole. Immediately she crouched next to Nat.

“Her pulse is strong. I think she just fainted, she doesn’t do well in tight spaces, like me.”  Katie coughed harshly before she paused at the sound of a familiar hum growing steadily closer.

“Quinjets.” Her eyes grew wide.

“Let’s go.” Steve ordered quietly, scooping Natasha up in his arms. Ensuring Katie was in front of him at all times, they quickly began navigating their way out of the rubble as they headed back to the truck.

Katie climbed into the backseat and Steve laid Natasha down so that her head rested in Katie’s lap before he jumped into the driver’s seat, starting the car and taking off down the dirt road.

Neither of them spoke for a good five minutes. Katie was still trying to make sense of what Zola had said. HYDRA had killed her parents, for no other reason that she could think of bar the fact her dad had worked tirelessly against everything they stood for, as part of SHIELD. Her eyes misted over and she tried to blink back the tears, keeping her breathing even. She knew if she started crying, after everything that had happened, she wouldn’t stop. 

In the front of the truck, Steve’s head was also reeling. All this time, HYDRA had grown within SHIELD, he’d gone into the ice for what? He wiped his hand over his face and glanced in the rear view mirror. Katie was looking down at Natasha, gently carding her hands through her friend’s hair, but he could see her eyes were wet. He felt another flash of anger. How could Fury have not noticed? How could Peggy have not noticed? So many goddamned questions.

“What…” Natasha’s voice was croaky and Steve glanced back again to see the red head’s eyes fluttering as she looked around.

“You passed out” Katie looked down at her. “We’re alright now, we got out ok.”

She sat upright and blinked again, “Thanks…”

Steve turned back to the windscreen as the car fell into silence.

“So, where to now?” Nat asked the question. No one answered which caused her to suggest “Tony?”

“No” Steve and Katie both said at the same time.

“For one thing he isn’t in the country.” Katie shook her head. “He’s in Aus working on some deal.”

“And they’ll be watching the Tower.” Steve continued, “It’s not safe”

“We need to get hold of Hill.” Katie licked her lips. “She’s the only one in any of this I trust now.”

Steve pondered, and then had to concede she was right. “Alright, but we need to lay low whilst we do. Any ideas?”

“Yeah.” Katie nodded. “And it’s a crazy one, but one that no one will ever suspect as no on in SHIELD knows the guy exists. Not yet anyway.”  Steve shot her a questioning glance in the mirror, which turned into one of realisation as she finished. “Sam Wilson.”

“Honey we hardly know the guy.” Steve shook his head.

“Well trusting people we do know hasn’t exactly worked for us so far, has it?” Katie snapped back, a little tetchily. Steve opened his mouth to argue but Natasha cut him off.

“Nova’s right. Sometimes the person you have to trust is a stranger.” *********

Once they had tracked down Sam’s address, which was fairly easy to figure out when you had access to JARVIS via a StarkPhone, Sam let them in without so much as a question, the fact that the three of them were battered, bruised and filthy declaring everyone they knew was trying to kill them told him all he needed to know. He offered up his guestroom and Steve, being the gentleman that he was, let both Natasha and Katie go before him, giving Sam a brief overview of what had happened.

Katie and Natasha both showered quickly, and now they were currently sat quietly in the guestroom while Steve used the en-suite. He washed his face and looked in the mirror, letting out a sigh as he glanced back at his reflection, various bruises already covered his arms and upper body thanks to his accelerated healing but that wasn’t what bothered him. He was completely and utterly at a loss as to what to do next. Turning, he opened the door and saw Katie sitting behind Nat on the bed, drying the back of the woman’s red hair. He locked eyes with her, gave her a small smile and then looked at Natasha who was staring into space.

“You okay?" 

"Yeah,” She replied quickly, too quickly.

Steve set down the towel he was drying his hands with and entered the room then sat on the chair across from the girls. He leaned his elbows on his knees and looked at Natasha carefully. “What’s going on?”

“When I first joined SHIELD, I thought I was going straight. But I guess I just traded in the KGB for Hydra,” Natasha confessed, looking down at her hands. “I thought I knew whose lies I was telling, but I guess I can’t tell the difference anymore.”

“There’s a chance you might be in the wrong business.” Katie teased earning a small smile from the redhead.

“I owe you.” Natasha sighed quietly, “Both of you.”

“It’s okay,” Steve smiled.

“If it was the other way around, and it was down to me to save your lives – and be honest with me – would you trust me to do it?” She asked quietly, her green eyes locked onto Steve’s.

“I would now,” said Steve. “And I’m always honest.”

“Without question.” Katie added as Nat turned to her, a smile growing on her lips.

“Well,” She said as she looked back at Steve. “You seem pretty chipper for someone who just found out they died for nothing.”

“Well, guess I just like to know who I’m fighting,” Steve sighed in response, although she had hit a nerve.

“I made breakfast,” Sam’s voice came and the three looked to see him leaning up against the doorframe. “If you guys, eat that sort of thing.” He added as he left.

Steve inclined his head slightly, smiling as Natasha stood up and left the room, shouting after Sam to see if he had a hair dryer, earning her a sarcastic response about him not having had an afro since the late eighties. Katie made to follow her but Steve caught her arm gently as he too rose from his chair.

“Doll.” He started, wanting to talk to her about the discovery but she cut him off, shaking her head. She didn’t want to talk about it. It was too painful and the fear of what Tony would say was eating her up.

“You know, after mom and dad died, Tony lost it.” Katie sighed gently, voicing her fears. “When he finds out they were murdered it could push him over the edge again.”

“Don’t tell him then.” Steve found himself suggesting. He didn’t approve of lying, but sometimes if knowing the truth was detrimental then…

“And then if he does find out, and then realises I knew and didn’t tell him?” Katie swallowed, shaking her head “I don’t know what’s worse, Steve.”

She looked utterly lost and broken and Steve felt a lump catch in his throat as he pulled her to him, kissing the top of her head. He was desperately trying to think of something that would raise her mood, and then he found himself for some strange reason thinking back to the banter the three had shared in the truck and he knew just how to do it.

“Did you really tell Natasha I had a big…” He looked down at his girl as she gave a small chuckle, the sound music to his ears.

“No I said you were a big dick…she must have misheard me”

He rolled his eyes and a sarcastic “ha ha” fell from his mouth as she smiled, sliding her hands up his chest.

“What I actually said was that if that thing…”she glanced down at his crotch before looking back up. “wasn’t supersized at the same time you were, I have no idea how you managed to stand upright before the serum.”

Jesus she was incorrigible at times. But Steve loved her for that. And he was also secretly pleased she thought he was packing, so to speak. He smirked as his hands slid to her hips. “You’re a nightmare.”

“Yeah but you love me.” She grinned.

“Yeah, yeah I do.” His lips met hers in a soft kiss before the pair of them sighed, the moment of humour and good nature slipping away as they both remembered exactly where they were and why they were there.

“Come on.” Steve took her hand and together they headed down the hall into the kitchen area, the smell of food hitting his nostrils made his stomach grumble.  

“You all look a hell of a lot better.” Sam commented as Katie grabbed a few things for her plate- a couple of pancakes, fruit and toast. Steve smiled a bit at the quasi-compliment before he sighed, biting into a piece of toast.

“Well, it’s been an eventful twenty-four hours.” He responded as he slipped into a chair.

“I aint got anywhere to be.” Sam shrugged as he looked at Steve “I know you gave me the overview but how about you give me the details?”

Katie sat down next to Steve at the table and looked at him, then to Natasha before they launched into a detailed explanation of what had happened as Sam listened intently asking questions and serving coffee out to them as they continued explaining over the next thirty minutes or so.

“So, the question is, who in SHIELD could launch a domestic missile strike?” Natasha asked from where she was stood, leaning comfortably back against Sam’s countertops.

“Alexander Pierce,” Katie confidently answered, finishing her coffee. It was amazing how much of the situation now was starting to slot into place following food and caffeine.

“Who happens to be sitting on top of the most secure building in the world,” Natasha walked towards the table, standing behind Katie, almost snorting at the irony of the situation.

“He’s not working alone, Zola’s algorithm was on the Lemurian Star.” Steve continued.

“And you told me that Jasper Sitwell was too.” Katie added, as the three of them shared a glance. There was another piece of the puzzle.

“So, the real question is,” Steve looked at Katie then to Nat “How do the three most wanted people in Washington kidnap a SHIELD officer in broad daylight?”

“The answer is, you don’t.” Sam dropped a file on to the table to the right of Katie.

“What’s this?” Steve asked, standing up as Natasha picked up the file.

“Call it a resume.”

Katie stood up as well so the three of them could look at the file.

“Is this Bakhmala? The Khalid Khandil mission-that was you?” Natasha asked and Sam nodded. She then turned to Steve. “You didn’t say he was a para rescue.”

“Riley?” Katie asked nodding to the photo of Sam and another man.

“Yeah.” Sam answered gently.

“I heard they couldn’t bring in the choppers because of the RPGs,” Natasha recalled. “What did you use, a stealth chute?”

“No. These.”

Sam handed Steve another file and he opened it, his eyes growing wide as they looked down at  Sam soaring through the air using what could only describe as a pair of mechanical wings. He shared an impressed look with Katie before he glanced at Sam.

“I thought you said you’re a pilot?”

“I never said a pilot.” Sam countered with a little chuckle and a smirk.

“I can’t ask you to do this, Sam. You got out for a good reason.” Steve shook his head.

“Dude, Captain America needs my help. There’s no better reason to get back in.” Sam almost scoffed.

“Where can we get our hands on one of these things?” Katie asked, looking up.

“The last one is at Fort Meade, behind three guarded gates and a twelve inch steel wall.” Sam supplied, his tone a little dejected.

Steve looked to Natasha who nodded with a shrug. “Shouldn’t be a problem.” He almost smiled, looking at Sam with a smirk before he turned to Katie. “Reckon you can track down Sitwell?”

“Sam, you got a Laptop?” Katie looked to the man who nodded. “Then yeah, I can track him down.” She affirmed, dropping her StarkPhone onto the table.

********

The plan was as solid as they could make it. Steve and Nat were taking Sam’s car to Fort Meade to break out his kit whilst Sam and Katie stayed behind to track down Sitwell. It wasn’t ideal splitting up, but it was the best option they had. All four of them travelling would have attracted attention, plus this way if two of them did get caught, the other two still had a chance of getting the job done.

Steve drove the truck down the freeway, Nat lounging in the front seat as she looked at the plans of the base that they now had courtesy of some expert searching via Google Maps.

“If we go in from the East Side we should have the element of surprise.” She spoke and Steve nodded.

“Right, we get in, we get out, minimum casualties, minimum fuss.”

Natasha hummed her agreement as Steve stopped at a red light.

“So, you actually asked Stark to move in?” Nat grinned.

“Yeah.” “I’m impressed. Your forty’s programming has been well and truly broken.” Steve rolled his eyes “Well I figured I want to spend the rest of my life with her so what does it matter?” He realised what he’d said instantly and let out a groan as Natasha grinned.

“You wanna marry her…” She said in a sing-song voice.

“People don’t always get married now.” Steve tried to shrug it off and Nat snorted.

“Bullshit Rogers! Soon as you can get a ring on it we all know you’re gonna.”

“Who’s we?”

“Everyone.” Natasha added sagely. “You two are like ultimate couple goals. It’s cute.”

Steve took a deep breath, staring ahead as he drove before he took a deep breath. “You know I kinda already asked her.” He looked back at Natasha who turned to him, mouth open. He had no idea why he was telling her this, absolutely no idea, other than the fact it felt nice to talk about something positive. “Well, not properly, but when I asked her to move in she was teasing me about us not being married so I said we could get married if she wanted, and-” “Great proposal.” Nat cut him off with a snigger. “What did she say?” “Told me to ask again with a, and I quote, big, fuck off tiffany diamond.”

“Every girl deserves a bit of sparkle.” Nat mused. “Unlucky for you, you’ve chosen a Billionaire to date.” “She’s not like that.” Steve instantly jumped to his girl’s defence.

“I know.” Nat soothed with a smile. “I know.”

They fell into silence for the rest of the way and, upon arriving at the base, they crept round to the best point of entry, following the heat scanners on Nat’s phone. Steve easily dispatched three guards, Natasha another two before they reached the room they were looking at. Natasha easily hacked the security codes thanks to something on her phone, Steve didn’t ask what, and they met no one on their way out.

Frankly, it went far too smoothly for Steve’s liking but he wasn’t going to complain. He just hoped Katie had got on as well with locating Sitwell.

***** Once Steve and Nat had left, Sam fired up the laptop for Katie and she plugged the end of her StarkPhone into the USB port.

“So you know this guy we’re looking for?” Sam asked, placing a coffee down next to her as she waited for the programme to run its magic.

“Vaguely.” She sighed out, knowing it would be easier if she knew him better. “But I can work with what I have.”

“So using what you have, how do we find him?”

“Simple, I’m going to check his work calendar.” Katie nodded at the laptop

 “And you can do that?” Sam asked

“Not on my own.” She grinned

“Good morning again Miss Stark.” JARVIS’ voice rang out from the laptop, causing Sam to slop coffee down his shirt in surprise.

“Hey JAR, I need a favour. Again. And it’s urgent.” “Of course.” “I need you to by-pass the SHIELD firewall and access someone’s calendar without them noticing.”

“Certainly, but permit me to ask,is everything ok Miss Stark?”

“Nope it is not…” she sighed “I’m in trouble J, but I’m hoping this is gonna help…”

“Should I alert Mr Stark? Maybe call him back from Australia?” “Absolutely not.” Katie shook her head. “There’s no time, in fact I forbid it…”

Once she had explained what she needed, JARVIS set to work, informing her he was going to scramble the IP address and set up a ghost server which would, in turn, allow him to access the information without being detected.

It didn’t take long. Fifteen or so minutes later Sitwell’s calendar flashed up and Katie gave a little yell of triumph.

“JARVIS, you are a genius, buddy!”

“Why thank you, Miss Stark. But I only have about sixty seconds before I will need to close down the connection.”

“Understood. Right let’s see where you’re at, you fucker.” Katie mused, as Sam peered over her shoulder.

“Look, briefing over lunch with Senator Stern at Occidental… 13:00 hours…” He read, pointing at the screen.

“Then he has another meeting at 14:30 back at the Triskellion… so Lunch is our window.” Katie looked up at Sam.

“Gives us an hour and a half.”

“Cutting it fine.” Katie mused. “Ok, thanks J, you can disconnect.”  “Certainly Miss Stark. Good luck.”

Just as the AI had shut the link down her mobile rang.

“We got it.” Nat’s voice instantly spoke as she put the phone on speaker. “All ok your side?”

“Yeah, we’re good.” Katie replied

“Any luck finding Sitwell?” this time it was Steve

“Yeah, he’s having lunch at Occidental with Senator Stern at 1pm.”

“Oh, how nice, they have a Senator involved.” Nat snorted sarcastically.

“And that’s going to be our only window before he’s back at the Triskellion at two-thirty.”

“Doesn’t give us much time…” Steve mused.

“What’s your ETA?”  Sam asked.

“About twenty five minutes.” 

“Okay, so let’s do the brain storming whilst you’re on the phone.”  Katie tapped at Sam’s laptop.  “The restaurant they’re going to is in the Business District, so we need somewhere secure that’s close by to take him for a little chat.”

She brought up the Google Map images so Sam could see.

“There.” Sam tapped at the screen, “There’s a multi-storey parking lot a few blocks down. We can take him up high…”

“And kick him off the edge.” Katie nodded.

“Stark, I like your style.” Nat replied, and Katie could hear the smirk in her voice.

“Okay so we got the where, now we need the how.” Steve sighed. “We can’t just pick him up at lunch. If the Senator’s there security will be a nightmare.”

"So we wait until he’s finished.” Sam shrugged

”But how do you get him to get in the car?”

“Simple. We give him a choice.” Katie eyed her gun where it lay on the table. “Do it or die.”

***** It turns out fear of death is a very, very good motivator.

Their plan went off perfectly. Natasha spoofed a phone number which Sam used to call Sitwell once he emerged from the restaurant after lunch. As predicted, Sitwell had been his usual cocky little shit of a self, asking Sam why on Earth he would what he was being instructed to do.

And then Katie had aimed her gun sight at him from her hiding place, the red laser sight clear in the middle of Sitwell’s chest.

“Because that tie looks really expensive, and I’d hate to mess it up.” Sam smirked.

Sitwell, resigned to his face, followed Sam instructions and as he left the little plaza upon which the restaurant was situated, Katie stepped out from her hiding place behind the wall of the bar Sam was sat at and pressed the muzzle of her gun into Sitwell’s lower back.

“One move and this goes straight into your spine. And I’ll make sure it doesn’t kill you, just leaves you with no feeling from the neck down…” She informed him, her voice low. Sitwell instantly tensed. "Miss Stark.” He grumbled out, seemingly more annoyed than scared. “Of course you’re involved with this.”

She took in a breath and glanced around, making sure none of the security team with him had realized what had happened. Sam was a few paces behind them and he gave her a nod to say they were clear before she turned back to Sitwell.

“You made me a wanted fugitive.” She shrugged. “Didn’t have much choice.” She stopped walking. “Now, get in the car.” She ordered, sternly.

“Where’s your boyfriend?”

“Get in the car.” She repeated. Sitwell stared at her, looked down at the gun before he swallowed and decided to do as he was told.

"We good?” Sam asked. Katie let out a breath and swiped a loose hair away from her face.

“Yeah, let’s go.”

They drove two blocks away and pulled up outside the large Starbucks on the main road.

“You know I could have got a coffee at the Restaurant.” Sitwell sighed, sarcastically. But his cocky demeanour soon dropped when both the rear car doors opened and Steve slid in one side, Natasha in the other.

“Good afternoon Agent Sitwell…” Steve turned to him, aviator shades covering his eyes. Sitwell looked at Steve, then to Natasha before his shoulders slumped and he bowed his head.

“Shit.”

******

Sitwell really was an arrogant little bastard, Steve had to give him that. The soldier easily manhandled the Agent onto the top of the Car Park roof, demanding to know what the Algorithm was, backing him up right to the edge where Sitwell had almost laughed, stating that it wasn’t Steve’s style to throw people off the edge.

Well, he had a point.

“You’re right. It’s not.” Steve released Sitwell, smoothing out his suit, letting the man nearly sigh in relief. Katie exchanged a glance with Natasha behind Steve’s back, the corner of her mouth twitched up slightly as Nat looked back. They were both going to enjoy this.

“It’s theirs.” Steve finished, before standing aside as both Katie and Natasha aimed strong kicks to Sitwell’s chest, sending him tumbling over the edge.

“So you’re definitely moving in together, then huh?”  Natasha asked, peering over the edge as Steve and Katie did the same, listening to Sitwell’s screams growing fainter.

“Yeah.” Steve smiled, looking down off the side of the room, hands in his pockets. “Although I’m not sure how I’m going to cope surrounded by mess.”

Katie rolled her eyes, as Sitwell’s screams started getting louder again and suddenly Sam flew over with him in his grasp and dropped him back onto the roof, before landing a few feet away. The three of them turned toward Sitwell and he stuck his hands up in surrender, telling them everything.

"Zola’s algorithm is a program, for choosing Insight’s targets!” He rushed out.

“What targets?” Steve demands.

“You! A TV anchor in Cairo, the Undersecretary of Defense, a high school valedictorian in Iowa City. Tony Stark, Bruce Banner, Stephen Strange, anyone who’s a threat to HYDRA! Now, or in the future,” Sitwell continued to rush out failing to catch his breath.

“The future? How could it know?” Steve asked in confusion. At this Sitwell laughed as he stumbled back to his feet, looking at Katie before he glanced at Steve.

“How could it not? The twenty-first century is a digital book. Zola taught HYDRA how to read it,” He said getting confused looks from the Soldier in return, “Your bank records, medical histories, voting patterns, e‐mails, phone calls, your damn SAT scores! Zola’s algorithm evaluates peoples’ past to predict their future.”

Steve swallowed. He’d heard and seen more unbelievable things.

“And what then?” He asked, already thinking he knew but didn’t want to know the answer. Sitwell shook his head in disbelief as Katie exchanged a glance with Sam who was stood behind Sitwell. He shook his head in disbelief.

“Oh, my god. Pierce is gonna kill me.” He mumbled to himself and he tried to back away from the advancing super-solider but Sam reached out, holding him in place with a firm hand on his shoulder.

“What then?” Steve demanded louder.

Sitwell sighed as he looked at Steve. “Then the Insight Helicarriers scratch people off the list. A few million at a time.”

**** Chapter 16

**Original Posting**

[osakaso5]

La Danse Macabre

Episode 40-2: Unheard Voices, Delivered Voices

Chapter Index

Three Years Later

Cura: Uuuugh!!!

Cura: Damn, I'm tired! These fights just won't end.

Rebellion Fighter: C'mon, Cura, there's no need to get mad.

Cura: I know. I just wish we had more people around here.

Cura: Nerve's been acting real suspicious lately. I have no idea what they're planning.

[Door opens]

Reue: Yawn... Now that was a good nap.

Cura: ........

Reue: Lately, I've been feeling just awful right before and after waking up. Maybe my age is starting to get the best of me.

Rebellion Fighter: G-good morning, sir.

Reue: Mornin'.

Cura: You DO realize that you're technically our second highest ranking member?

Reue: Well, if it isn't Mr. Top Dog. Hard at work as always, I see.

Cura: You should give working a chance yourself, Reue.

Reue: No thanks~. Libel promised me a job that requires as little effort as possible.

Cura: Ugh... You mean the asshole who went and died, right after making promises he didn't have to keep..?

Reue: Hahaha, you're such a jokester.

Rebellion Fighter: Cura! The transportation team from District 4 has run into a Unity Order patrol! They're requesting immediate backup!

Cura: What, seriously? Let's get 'em on the monitor.

Cura: This looks bad... Do we have any free squads nearby..?

Reue: Ah, I think we've got it covered.

Cura: Huh?

Reue: I thought this might happen, so I already sent over a certain someone. 

- - - -

Unity Order Troop: For the Church of Nerve... For Master Misericorde...

Rebellion Fighter: Crap... They've got us surrounded...

Unity Order Troop: For the Church of Nerve... For Master Misericorde...

Rebellion Fighter: I've sent an emergency signal to the base! But...

Rebellion Fighter: I don't think we're gonna make it...

Leiden: Hold up!!!

Rebellion Fighters: ......!?

Leiden: I came to save your asses!

Rebellion Fighter: ...Leiden!

Unity Order Troop: That's...

Unity Order Troop: One of the traitors...

Leiden: Hmm.

Leiden: ...Traitor, huh? Sure, I guess I am...

Leiden: And that's just fine by me. I've really thought this through, even with my empty head.

Unity Order Troop: Stay on guard...

Unity Order Troop: We all strike at the same time..! For the Church of Nerve!

Leiden: Yeah, come at me! I fight for myself!

Leiden: Because I'm Rebellion's Leiden!

Leiden: Don't you forget that!!!

- - - -

Cura: Oh, Leiden's going there. That's a relief...

Reue: Isn't it?

Cura: Fine, I guess you helped. ...But could you at least let me know  when you send out more troops?

Reue: Hahaha. When I notice an oversight in your orders, I can't help but want to fix it.

Cura: You sly old man...

Reue: Come to think of it, it's been around three years since Eternea died and Misericorde took over as the ruler of the church.

Reue: And because of Misericorde, the Unity Order is even more deeply tied to the church now.

Reue: Eternea must've been holding the church back.

Reue: The current Ark follows Misericorde's orders like a hive mind.

Reue: It'll be tough to bring them down. They've never been quite this fanatical before.

Cura: Yeah, they may not have a Celestial right now, but there's still an obvious gap between our technology and theirs.

Cura: Geez... It's gonna be a while before we overthrow them...

Reue: But we'll do it anyway, won't we? Create a world without Celestials.

Cura: Yep, that's what Libel would've wanted. And I decided to stick by him when we were both kids.

Reue: ...You've been doing well. The Surface's forces are concentrated around Rebellion more and more these days.

Reue: We've gotten new members too, haven't we? I'd say you've achieved more than plenty, for such a young man.

Cura: This much is nothing. I'm not nearly as charismatic as our old leader.

Reue: You're too humble. The world is already changing, and I'm sure it's for the better.

Cura: I sure hope so. Especially for all those of us who died for this change.

Horca: Hey... it's not healthy to let yourself be tied down by dead people. We're here for the living.

Reue: Oh, you came to visit, Mr. Merchant?

Cura: Done with your negotiations?

Horca: Yep, thanks so much. I'll be on my way now.

Cura: You're not ripping us off, are you?

Horca: ...Maybe I am, maybe not. Have a little faith in your subordinates, will you.

Cura: Well, for an old enemy, you sure have been a reliable business partner.

Reue: Right. I hear you even trade with Nerve these days.

Horca: I don't give a damn about the past. I'm just doing whatever I can to live a fun, free life.

Horca: I don't wanna hold myself back. That's not why I was born into this world, nor is it why I've survived this far.

Cura: ...I guess that's the life for you, then.

Horca: You guys have nothing to worry about. My motto is to sell everything at the same price, no matter who's buying.

Horca: I'm not making favors to any side. If I did, my old friends would just laugh at me.

Horca: ...I guess I'm tied down by the dead in my own way, too.

Cura: ...Nah. Neither of us are being tied down.

Cura: I'm doing this for Libel and Fuga because I want to.

Horca: ...That so. Well, either way, I’m  looking forward to this new world of yours.

Horca: Make sure that it’s a place  where even people like my old crew  can live.

Reue: ...Haha. Everyone's put their expectations on you.

Cura: What a pain. It's not like I asked for any of this.

Reue: It's the duty of those of us who lived.

Cura: ........

Cura: Oh, it's almost time. ...Get ready, people.

Reue: Oh, it is? I've been waiting for this.

Cura: Yeah, you better have. The kid's our ray of hope.

 - - - -

Qual: Arme. It's almost time. Are you good to go?

Arme: Yes, Qual. I'm ready.

Qual: ...You're not lonely? You haven't been around other people for quite the while now.

Arme: Hm? I'm fine. I have you... And Kabane and the others come see me every now and then.

Arme: Hmm, though I'd be lying if I said I didn't feel even a little bit lonely...

Arme: Cura and his troops are fighting their own fight, and I'm fighting mine.

Qual: I see...

Arme: For as long as I live, a new Celestial can't be born.

Arme: That grants Rebellion more than enough time to win us the world Libel longed for.

Qual: You've grown so strong.

Arme: Strong...

Arme: Qual, listen to me. I've decided something.

Arme: I want to help everyone live their lives.

Arme: However, I can't reach out to or help them in person.

Arme: Still, there may be those who would gain courage from me, even from afar.

Qual: ...Right, living on the Surface has made one thing very clear to me. Those who live in this world need something to believe in.  

Qual: The Surface is free. And that's why its people are afraid. They're anxious about the path they've chosen.

Qual: We could all use something to light up that path.

Arme: Right...

Arme: Libel said I'd bring everyone hope.

Qual: Yes, he did...

Arme: I was the Celestial. The symbol of everyone's faith. But no one saw me for who I truly am.

Arme: ...The truth is, I'm completely  useless. I'm weak, cowardly, naive,  and not very good at reading social  situations, or so I’ve been told. 

Arme: Which is why I'm not fit to lead a religion. I'm not some perfect idol.

Arme: I need others to help me. I need others to keep me from feeling down.

Arme: And in turn, I'll do whatever I can for them.

Arme: Anything to help others live their life to the fullest.

Arme: I want to be the light that shines upon this world.

[Beep]

Cura: Arme, you ready? I'm jacking into the Surface's radio signal. We’re  counting on you, as usual...

Arme: Yes, I'm ready as can be.

Cura: People were pretty suspicious about this at first, but you've gained kind of a fanbase as of late.

Arme: Ooh, really!?

Arme: Actually, I was thinking of learning how to sing and dance.

Cura: Hahaha, sounds good to me. I'm sure everyone will love it.

Cura: ...Just do your best, kid. And...

Cura: Make sure you enjoy this more than anyone else, alright?

Arme: Yes, I will! I'll have so much fun! 

- - - -

Horca: ...Doing it because you want to, huh.

Horca: Ugh, Cura's starting to rub off on me. And so, here I am... Visiting a grave.

Horca: ...It's my first time coming here since I left.

Horca: The Underworld... It really isn't a big deal at all. Just a huge, dumb hole.

Horca: ........

Horca: Ah. Vida, Placer. Is it okay if I just... pretend you're in there?

Horca: I...

Horca: Wanted to apologize. For not coming here sooner.

Horca: All I ever did was make fun of you for being bound to the dead.

Horca: ...But I was wrong. It's not a bad thing that I keep you guys in my memories.

Horca: It's not wrong of me to do something I think would make you happy.

Horca: ...Then again, I can't hear the dead.

Horca: You guys won't mind if I just assume you're happy that I'm still alive, will you?

Horca: ........

Horca: ...Well, you'd better not.

Horca: One of the perks to being alive is I get to pretend your souls in the afterlife agree with everything I do.

Horca: Hah... And if that's a problem, you'll just have to speak up.

[Bzzt]

Arme: Ah, ah.

Horca: Uagh!?

Horca: That scared the crap out of me... I really thought the dead were gonna talk for a second...

Horca: Huh? There's something coming from my transmitter..? Who is that..?

Arme: Cura? Can they hear me yet?

Horca: Whuh? 

- - - -

Arme: Ah, ah. Testing, testing.

Konoe: Oh, I've got a signal! It's starting, Master Kuon!

Kuon: Ah, how exciting.

Konoe: Kabane! Come over and listen with us!

Kabane: ...No. I can hear just fine from where I am.

Konoe: Darn!

Konoe: He's still acting distant... I thought you finally made up, after all these years?

Kuon: Ahaha. Kabane still has some trouble being around me.

Kuon: ...But he can take his time changing. We have an eternity ahead of us, after all. 

- - - -

Arme: Ahem.

Arme: All of you living your lives on the Surface, can you hear me?

Arme: My name is Arme.

Arme: Today, well...

Arme: Why don't I tell you how I met a dear friend, who changed my life? 

The End.

[pandoraborn]

Cruelty of the Beast, part 7

( previous. )

Characters: c!Ranboo, c!Tommy Word count: 1685 words Content: whump, mention of hypnosis, confessions, Ranboo and Tommy have a bonding moment, talk of apocalypse, tommy calls Ranboo out for his hypocrisy

-----

They’re finally left alone. Ranboo is unable to make eye contact with Tommy, which seems fine, because Tommy isn’t looking at him either. There’s a shift though, an unspoken understanding of the situation they find themselves in. It’d already hit before, but now there seems to be something heavy between them.

Ranboo focuses on the food on his plate. It’s nothing special, a slab of pork and scrambled eggs. It’s not like Dream and Wilbur are starving them, nor depriving them of a warm bed, a warm home, and general comforts, but Ranboo still doesn’t like this place. He doesn’t like knowing what he’s helped plan in the past, what he helped put Tommy through.

When he forces himself to look in Tommy’s direction, Tommy’s staring at Wilbur. He can’t decipher the expression on the other teen’s face, but it’s a far cry from troubled. He has to wonder what Wilbur told Tommy today.

“Hey,” Ranboo mutters. He looks down at his plate, cutting into the pork slowly. “Are you okay?”

Tommy turns back toward him. In his peripheral vision, he can see a large grin spread across Tommy’s face. He wonders if Tommy is brainwashed somehow, then retracts that thought. There’s no way Wilbur has that kind of power.

Dream’s words come back to him. “I’m not controlling you, I don’t have that kind of power. Wilbur, maybe, but he’s not interested in you, he’s interested in Tommy.” Ranboo shudders at the memory. It’s unlikely that Wilbur was able to pull anything sinister in the one day they’ve all been split up.

“Yeah,” Tommy says. “Wilbur and I had a long conversation and he cleared some things up for me.”

“Did he hypnotize you?” Ranboo asks. He hadn’t intended on asking that, and immediately winces. It’s a stupid question; Wilbur’s only human, it’s not like he actually wants to hurt his brother.

“What?” Tommy scoffs. “What are you on about Ranboo?”

“Honestly, I don’t know.”

“Not to be...well, okay, I mean to be blunt and offensive, but I’m not you and Wilbur’s not Dream. I’m sorry Dream hurt you, but Wilbur didn’t do anything, we literally just talked.”

“What’d you talk about?”

“You’re awfully nosy, aren’t you?” Tommy sounds defensive. Ranboo lets out a sigh. “Okay, okay. Sorry. I’m still shaken up, we went out to gather sand and gunpowder. Mostly sand.”

“And?”

“Before I answer, are you going to tell me what you and Dream did today? Did he hypnotize you?”

“No.” Ranboo offers a smile. “He and I literally just talked, as well.”

“Wilbur apologized to me,” Tommy says in a rush. “He said he thought that by dying, he was doing me a favor. He didn’t realize things for me had gotten so bad.”

“Do you believe him?”

“He was crying, Ranboo. Wilbur never cries. He normally doesn’t really talk the way he did earlier. Like, I think he actually meant it when he said we can be brothers again.”

“You trust him?” Ranboo tilts his head. “One conversation is all it takes?”

“You’re seriously getting on my nerves here,” Tommy grumbles. “What did you and Dream do today? You’re on edge for some reason, what happened?”

Ranboo isn’t sure what he’s allowed to say or not say, but then again, he and Tommy are in this situation together. If they’re going to be each other’s only friends, he might as well start being honest.

“Apparently I’ve been helping Dream a lot longer than I realized,” Ranboo whispers. “I’ve been out here before, digging up something for him.”

“Stop being cryptic and tell me what’s going on. Jesus, I’m tired of secrets.”

“Dream and Wilbur want to go to the end,” Ranboo says. “They want some dragon that’s in there. They both want to use us to get it into this world.”

“So...” At least Tommy looks pale. Ranboo’s glad that Tommy isn’t taking this news lightly, it gives him hope that Tommy isn’t completely falling for Wilbur’s...whatever Wilbur is doing. “So what Wilbur said earlier makes sense now.”

“What?”

“What he said to me makes sense. He said when all this is over, and it’s time to let everything go.”

“Tommy, they’re going to end the world. Why aren’t you panicking?”

“Ranboo, I’m fucking exhausted, mate. I’m tired of fighting with people, I’m tired of being used as everyone’s punching bag, and I’m tired, in general. So yeah, I want it all to end. I’m a child and I’ve already lived through more than everyone even cares about. Dragons aren’t ideal, and of course I don’t want anyone to get hurt, but I don’t have anything to go back to.”

“What about Tubbo? Or Puff-”

“Tubbo’s got you, and Puffy has a life outside of me. No one needs me. You’re the one who has something to lose in this. If you want to sneak away, I won’t stop you, but I’m not going with you.”

“Tommy, you know this is classic villainy, right?” Ranboo swallows.

“Tell me more about what you did. Do you know what you helped Dream out with? What was it you dug out?”

“Oh.” Ranboo looks down again. “I dug out a hole that leads straight to a lit end portal. Apparently, I helped put you in this position. From exile, to being trapped in the prison, and now this.”

“So you call me wanting to stay with my brother villainy, but you helped hurt me, and you somehow don’t see the hypocrisy here?” Tommy laughs sardonically. “That makes us both villains, Ran.”

“Tommy I’m sorry.”

“Save it. I’m not going to hold it against you forever, I just want you to really think about this. You can’t sit on a moral pedestal and call the rest of us out when you contributed to my death.”

Ranboo falls silent as he reaches back behind him. He grabs the book Dream gave him earlier and wordlessly hands it over to Tommy. “Read the last page,” Ranboo mumbles, as his only response.

Tommy does, flipping through the pages silently until he reaches the last page. He reads the common words carefully; Ranboo can see his eyes flickering back and forth as he studies what’s written. After what feels like ages, Tommy finally looks up, handing the book back.

“So you knew.”

“Tommy, I had no idea.”

“You knew,” Tommy repeats firmly. “You fucking knew the whole time what was going on. You knew that Dream and Wilbur were working together, you knew that Wilbur was coming back, and you fucking knew about the dragon. You knew!”

“I don’t remember! I swear I don’t remember this!”

“What do you think Tubbo’s going to say if this falls into his hands? What do you think Puffy and Sam and Quackity are going to say? You knew. They’re not going to buy memory loss this time because this is your handwriting. Including the ender bits.”

Ranboo’s shoulders slump. Tommy’s right. He hates that Tommy’s right. The proof is literally in his hands, and destroying it isn’t going to do much either, because now Tommy knows.

“We have to warn Tubbo.”

Tommy points the tines of his fork in Ranboo’s direction. “We can’t tell them. We’re here now, and regardless of how you or me personally feel about this situation, we’re not getting out of this. Personally, I’m past the point of caring, and I know some part of you, whether you remember or not, wants this. Instead of marrying my best friend, you should marry your unconscious self and come to terms with this.”

Tommy is smart. Ranboo knows he’s smart, and Ranboo also knows Tommy’s right. It only contributes to how smart the stupid ass is. Ranboo can’t remember though, it’s like some part of him is blocked. After what he’d seen today, Ranboo can feel that mental wall in place, and he doesn’t know how to access it. Neither does Dream, apparently.

“I don’t know how to remember,” Ranboo admits. “I don’t know how to access those memories.”

“I can smack you upside the head with a brick,” offers Tommy with a snort. “Seriously. You were talking about hypnosis earlier, maybe it can be used for good instead of evil.”

“I don’t want to be evil.”

“Think it’s a little late for that, bud.” Tommy doesn’t sound angry, at least. Ranboo had expected Tommy to yell and storm off, but he’s still sitting by Ranboo, and now offering help. He doesn’t understand this.

“Why aren’t you mad at me?”

“Why should I be? Because you helped Dream? Wilbur quoted Lord of the Rings at me and I fell into his arms sobbing. You could probably offer a hug and I’d burst into tears. This is how fucked I am.”

“I feel the same,” Ranboo admits. He forces out a short laugh. “Dream was admittedly really nice to me.”

“He can be your friend then. I don’t want him anywhere near me for awhile.”

“We’re both really fucked up, aren’t we?”

“Yeah man, that’s the conversation we’re having. We’re fucked up because we’re considering helping the two strongest villains of the server launch an apocalypse. If that doesn’t scream fucked up, I don’t know what does.”

“Tubbo...” Ranboo shakes his head. “I have to see him one last time at least.”

Tommy looks over his shoulder. The two adults are engaged in quiet conversation, and they look as if they’re falling asleep. Tommy looks around the cabin and spots a couple of potions in the corner. The color tells him they’re potions of weakness.

“Not tonight,” he whispers. “Another night, soon. We can drug those two and I’ll help you sneak out for the night. You can meet up with Tubbo, I’ll even give you a note from me. But it’s all gotta be before sunup, because I don’t want to lose Wilbur’s trust and faith in me, alright?”

Ranboo nods. He’s apprehensive about this whole thing, but he’s also strangely reassured with the vague knowledge that everything will be okay.

He doesn’t know why he’s feeling that now, though.

Huh, must be a missing memory trying to surface.

[msmarvelouswinchester]

Love In Sin

Chapter 9

Summary - Special Agent Winchester is forced to go undercover with his frenemy Special Agent L/N when they try to track down a notorious drug dealer. How will Y/N and Dean complete their task? Will their relationship worsen or will new feelings emerge between them?

Pairing - AU!Detective Dean Winchester x Reader

Warning - None, Fluff-ish

Word Count - 1.5k

Square Filled - Clothes Sharing ( @spndeanbingo )

A/N 1 - Surprise, this series lives! So, it has been a loooong time. I wasn't originally planning to post this part today but my college is killing me and I am hardly getting any writing (and reading) done. This was already done and edited so I finally decided to post this today.

A/N 2 - This may seem like a filler chapter but it's not, trust me. It's a very important chapter which plays a crucial part in the next chapters. ENJOY!

Beta'd by the absolute sweetheart @deanwanddamons <3<3

Divider by @firefly-graphics

Series Masterlist

Groaning loudly, Dean dropped his head as you paced around the room, complaining for the hundredth time that night.

“Will you stop?” He grumbled. You came to a halt when you heard his words and turned to look towards him. Throwing a glare his way you continued your pacing .

“Y/N/N, stop it. This isn't going to solve our problem - it'll only annoy the tenants downstairs,” he said and got up from his chair.

“What are we supposed to do? My pacing around is definitely not helping neither is your what, fourth glass of whiskey,” you retorted.

“Third,” Dean said, “this is my third glass and I'm tryin’ to get drunk.”

“We ended up in this situation because we were slacking and this is exactly what we are doing again,” you raised your voice, regretting your decision to stay at Dean’s house with him, “if you won't even try to get out of this situation, I'll be going back to my house tomorrow.”

“You won't stay alone in that house until we catch that son of a bitch,” he said, setting his glass and walking over to you, “it's dangerous.”

You knew it was dangerous considering how the house you had rented in Kansas was destroyed when you had gone back to get your belongings - furniture was thrashed, utensils were broken and clothes were torn, but nothing was stolen. It was clear that Crowley's men were trying to send you a sign to leave their boss alone.

It was Bobby who suggested that staying alone and travelling a few kilometres everyday to discuss the proceedings of the case would be a bad idea since Crowley and Co. were waiting for the perfect opportunity to cause disruption in the case. And knowing how ruthless Crowley could be, murder and kidnapping didn't seem like a far-fetched option for him.

Dean had piped up saying it would be better to stay at his house since he had noticed your house had a weak security system. His other reason was that he had a car, unlike you.

Needless to say, you had reluctantly agreed to stay with the green eyed detective, but deep down inside, you knew that staying with Dean gave you a sense of security and you didn't want to let that go.

“We will figure a way out,” he said, standing a little too close to you.

“How?” You asked the obvious question.

“I have contacted my brother. He will be working as our lawyer to get them to drop the charges. Sammy will be here early morning tomorrow,” he said, removing a stray piece of hair from your face, “but you gotta cool down, sweetheart. Give that pretty little head of yours a little rest.”

“I-I can't. I am freaking out Dean,” you said.

“I know. You have almost bore a hole in the ground by your pacing,” you hit his arm lightly, making him chuckle, “I'm thinkin’ about the case too.”

“Is Sam-will he be able to….this is a critical one,” you mumbled, looking down at the floor.

“I have faith in my brother and he can go to hell and back to save me just like I can. Sammy will do anything to help us. Trust me,” he said, putting a finger under your chin, prompting you to look up at him. He leaned in and placed a kiss on your forehead. This simple act worked like a sedative and you calmed down a bit.

“Join me for a drink,” Dean said and strolled his way back to the couch. You followed him and took a seat beside him. Pouring a drink, he handed you the glass.

“One drink. Only.” You said.

“Alright.”

“Who do you think might be the mole?” you asked, taking a sip of your drink

“It can be anyone. Charlie, Kevin, Bobby, Rufus-”

“Ruby, you,” he nodded, “me.”

“Like I said, it could be anyone,” Dean said.

“Motive?”

“Depends.”

“Do you think we can prove our innocence?” You asked, “the cops kinda caught us red handed and-”

“It's….tough.” Dean said and jumped out of his seat, knocking over the tumbler of ice.

You tilted your head in confusion, furrowing your eyebrows.

“What?” You insisted.

“A few years back, when we were only fledglings in the bureau, Rufus Turner was working Crowley’s case. This information was in the case file that Bobby gave to us. He had arrested two men in his gang but by the time they had got to know about that dick, they had already lost him. He had escaped the feds again,” he explained, flailing his arms all around in excitement.

“Maybe we can find out who those two men were and interrogate them about Crowley,” you said, smiling a little for the first time that night, knowing you had a lead.

“Now all we need is access to those two men's files. FBI is not gonna help us so we have to take matters in our own hands. I’ll call Ash and ask him to find those,” Dean said and ran back to his room to get his phone.

“Ash? What about Charlie?” You asked, when he came back to the room, “And shouldn't you tell Sam first? He is our lawyer and he should be informed about this.”

“It's not like we are gonna interrogate a witness and Ash is a good friend of mine. He is not a fed whereas Charlie works at the bureau and right now we can't trust anyone who works there because we don't know who might be working as a two-faced devil and ratting us out to the God of the Underworld,” Dean said, dialing Ash’s number.

“Ash,” he said when the said man picked up the phone after a few rings.

“Listen, we are kind of in a tricky situation here-oh you heard….not really, we got one week….no it won't….I know you're a busy man, Ash,” Dean said, rolling his eyes, “but we need your help….yeah….the thing is we need access to the old case files related to the drug mafia Crowley….yeah I know that genius….can't you-fine….I owe you one.”

“So?” You asked, hoping for good news.

“Ash will let us know by morning,” he said.

“Can we trust him?”

“Yes.”

“Okay,” you reached for the bottle of whiskey.

“What do you think you're doing?” Dean asked, raising his brow.

“Relaxin’,” you shrugged, “you should try to relax sometimes.”

“You think you're such a smartass, huh?” He said and plopped down on the couch beside you, making you giggle.

“Thanks for tonight, Winchester,” you turned towards your friend.

“For what? For helping you calm down when you were running around like a headless chicken?” He smirked.

“Shut up,” you grumbled, “you know what I mean.”

“I'm here for you. We're in this shit together and I promise to get us out of this mess,” he said as you moved closer to him.

“And I have faith in you.” He pulled you closer and kept your head on his shoulder. He hummed in response. You closed your eyes, sighing loudly, but the sweet moment of coziness was interrupted quickly.

Your eyes flew open, “You son of a bitch, Winchester! Way to ruin a moment! How dare you put ice in my sweatshirt?” Dean laughed out loud.

“First of all, that's my sweatshirt you are wearing and you were looking too peaceful with your head on my shoulder,” he laughed.

“Fuck you!” You growled, and hit his arm hard.

“Ow!” He rubbed his arms. Dean effectively dodged your second attack, “woah, easy there tiger.” By now you were laughing too. As your laughter died down, you looked at Dean and saw him smiling softly at you. You blushed furiously under his strong gaze.

“You hungry?” Dean asked, clearing his throat.

“Uh-huh. Kinda forgot about food today until now.” You said, diverting your eyes.

“I'm thinking about ordering pizza. You okay with that?” He asked.

“Sure.” You said.

Half an hour later, as you were enjoying the delicious pizza and watching some crappy tv trying to put a break on the racing thoughts, you heard Dean speak.

“About earlier,” he sighed.

“Oh yeah. You better be sorry Winchester,” you gave him an annoyed look.

“No, I'm not sorry for that. It was fun,” he laughed.

“No it wasn't,” you said, but failed to hide the smile threatening to take over your face.

“It made you smile,” he pointed out.

“Fine, you're forgiven,” you said as Dean gave you a cheeky grin.

“In all seriousness, what I said earlier, I meant it. I promise to get us out of this mess,” he said, leaning down to give you a chaste kiss on your cheek, your skin tingling with an unknown sensation.

“I know,” you said, “I think I should go to bed now. We have a long day ahead of us.” Dean nodded as you got up and made your way over to his guest room.

Let me know if you want to be tagged in the series!

Feedback is highly appreciated!

[fe-semi-decent-scenarios]

Congrats on 100 followers!!! If it's no bother could I request head cannons for how protective the BL group is over their s/o? Thanks :))

[I’m assuming that these are just general jealousy level / worry-wart head-cannons? We’re not tapping into yandere on this blog lol. I’ll keep it simple, how ya like it :3] 

Dimitri: 

11/10

Boy worries 

People out there want him dead = people out there want you dead too

Some might even try to take advantage of you due to his high status 

Makes him hella clingy sometimes. Nightmares when you’re in ‘unfavorable’ circumstances aren’t rare

Even in his emo phase he’s still like this- just even more because the world is basically his enemy 

Don’t let feral dima be around when soldiers talk smack to you. He will put them in their place without mercy 

Doesn’t help that you’re basically the closest to family he’s got aside from Dedue

Dude you’re his future and he knows it. There is no one else who would stick with him through everything like you do 

Even if there was, he wouldn’t want them. No one can ever replace you

He’s not so much concerned with someone else putting the moves on you 

Okay, wait--hold that thought 

He trusts you but goddess forbid someone makes you uncomfortable. He will use his authoritative presence to make them feel like a pebble next to a boulder 

Totally glares at anyone with wandering eyes when you’re not looking. He’ll put one arm around your waist and nudge you away from them without hesitation 

  Dedue: 

3/10

He can’t stop people from making advances- he knows that 

He also can’t take action on your behalf

Sure, he doesn’t like it when people make advances towards you. The whole point of being in a relationship is so people know that you are each other’s partner 

Most of the time he just lets you deal with it. You can take care of yourself 

His mood goes foul if people dare to do it in front of him. If people thought he looked intimidating before then d a m n 

He’ll casually place a hand on your shoulder (which if you know him well is actually the most unusual thing) and ask if you need anything else before dismissing himself 

Just a little expression of clarity that you’re with him, you know, chase the bugger off  

Surprisingly not a worry-wart in any aspect aside from health 

It’s easy for someone to neglect their health; mental and physical

Don’t be surprised if he encourages you to get check-ups ritually 

If something’s an issue he expects you to come to him when you’re ready

Not pushy in the slightest 

Felix: 

8/10

Asserts d o m i n a n c e towards all threats 

His attitude is one of the top three causes for any arguments. You know the snarky remarks are part of the Felix package, but would it kill him to have some restraint occasionally? 

Despite his intelligence Felix tends to make quick assumptions. The guy has a bit of a superiority complex and doesn’t like when other people get cozy with his s/o 

Pity the fool who challenges the Fraldarious 

He views it as them not taking him seriously. 

Also slightly afraid you’ll ditch his difficult ass

He can and will tell them off. Doesn’t matter the time or scene- if he feels someone’s being too buddy-buddy then he’ll make them to get lost 

Hence the arguments. It can get bothersome when he acts out towards someone you’re friends with or if he causes a scene 

He knows that it’s out of line and that you can make your own choices, but he can’t help it 

Will apologize begrudgingly, but only to you. The other person can just live with it 

You might be able to milk it and get an apology hug lol 

In other aspects of life he’s the same way. If a politician tries to screw you over he’s right there watching from the sidelines, if you’re in battle then he’s constantly glancing at where you’re stationed, etc. 

Ashe: 

7/10

He’s your silent protector lol

Not because he’s ‘quiet’ but instead out of fear. He doesn't want to annoy you 

Ashe has a lot of insecurities. No matter how many times you tell him otherwise he’ll always think you’re out of his league 

If anyone flirts or makes suggestive comments towards you he’ll get upset 

Like, really upset 

extremely upset 

 He’ll watch from the sidelines as you diffuse the situation, lacing one hand with your own with a smile. Just you’re normal not-confrontational-at-all-Ashe. At least that’s what you see 

On the inside it’s a raging storm of emotions going on. He’s so afraid that one day you’ll wake up and realize that he’s not good enough. That he’ll have to watch you walk away and return to an empty home again 

Que nervous sweating 

He becomes a doting mother if you’re ever ill or in danger. For weeks on end he’ll become you’re second shadow 

If someone ever dares to hurt you while he’s nearby they’re getting an arrow in the back. No mercy. The fury borderline snaps the arrow between his fingers 

Hates leaving you behind or being away. Not knowing if you’re safe, happy, healthy, etc. eats him up inside 

Literally fragile glass. He can’t even tinker with the thought of you dying or he gets a stress-induced headache 

Sylvain: 

5/10

He’s so neutral towards everything that it’s honestly scary 

The fellow Lions would even say ‘creepy’ for some occasions. It’s so far off from how he behaved towards his past partners and other friends 

With his past and reputation people would think he’d at least get defensive when other people flirt with you 

He knows what players are looking for since he was one. He’s been in their shoes

Yet??? He’s indifferent towards everything???

It takes a lot to get Sylvain worked up. His laid back way of approaching conflict tends to rub off on those around him and therefore helps in avoiding arguments 

It would take either you expressing your discomfort or for the other party to attempt physical contact to make him hostile 

Even then though he’ll simply push them back before leading you away. No harm no foul,  just in and out before things escalate 

When it comes to big decisions or outbreaks he also follows a neutral approach. He waits for you to express your own wants before giving his opinions 

You want to fight in the next battle? Cool, you’re registered. What battalion are you with? Well, looks like your going a different route than him. Are you sure that’s the one you want to follow? Yeah? Nothing he can do then aside from wish you luck. 

Doesn’t mean he won’t be concerned at all though. I mean, it’s natural to be. 

His mindset is that if he doesn’t worry then you won’t either. Anxiety is contagious and you don’t need extra stress in bad situations. 

Annette: 

7/10

She doesn’t w a n t to be like this, but sometimes it’s hard to hold back jealousy 

Annette is one of those people that likes attention from the person she cares about. It makes her happy, so being ignored for someone else would really hurt 

She’s nothing special in this regard. Like any person in a relationship she’ll have her moments, but for the most part everything is fine and dandy 

The whole reason she’s above average is because of other reasons

She’ll nag you about safety precautions with logic from her studies. Being a goodie-two-shoes from a young age has her nerves spiking whenever you take needless risks 

If she wasn’t reading up on faith magic before then she is now 

The fear of being left behind is also something to chalk up on this list. If you’re gone longer than expected she’ll become antsy 

The others can always tell when she’s worried. Annette isn’t very good at hiding that kind of aura from taking over 

All in all, she’s not a very protective person. A better term would probably be “anxious”

Mercedes: 

10/10

While she isn’t the staple of ‘overprotective,’ she is still exceedingly mindful of possible disasters  

Are you really surprised? Mercedes cares about everyone no matter who they are.  

She legit prays for the souls of her enemies. The woman is a saint in human skin

This also negates any jealous bone in her body. If she ever does feel uneasy it’s just a quick pang in the chest and then it’s gone 

She doesn’t like to dwell on ‘what ifs’ because then she can’t live in the present- where people need her  

She can seriously be a bit much other times though. If you even sneeze near her she’ll ask to take your temperature 

Doesn’t matter where, who, when, etc. Mercedes takes care of everyone 

Don’t ever deny her either. She can be pushy if the situation calls for it and sometimes it’s just easier to let her do what she wants 

She’ll pray to the goddess for your safety before any battle, and send you off with extra healing potions for the times she won’t be near 

During these times she’s extra vulnerable and is more open to showing her own personal strife to others. She tries to keep optimistic but nobody’s perfect. If it becomes too much she may seek to talk with a close friend (aka Annette) 

However, her thoughts remain unclouded when others are in need. She suppresses her personal feelings until those in front of her are taken care of 

Ingrid: 

0/10

She isn’t worried 

You know better than to wrong Ingrid 

Enemies know better than to wrong you 

Either happens and someone’s gonna die 

[lovingmyselfcore]

Protect You Chapter IV

Oh my god I did it. I wrote a thing for this thing!! You guys are def getting other writing things from me this week but idk what it'll be bc apparently my brain is god and works in mysterious ways (is that offensive?)

Significant lack of Cardan today and I apologize for that but he will deffo be in the next part (if you've read the end of this then you know)

Chapter IV; Some Attempted Breaking and Entering ft. Nicasia being Nicasia and I hate her :)

“Ow,” I deadpanned.

Oriana looked up at me, mouth pinched at the edges, “Jude.” She had the way of saying my name (always has) that perfectly conveyed her distaste at my existence and scolding me for whatever I had done.

We were in Vivi and I’s apartment, Oriana had me propped on the counter while she adjusted my sling and bandages. Every time she saw the injury she grimaced in disgust, which meant that was her only current expression.

“When Vivi does this it’s much quicker,” I muttered, crossing my ankles and swinging my legs against the counter.

“Well, Vivi has had weeks of doing this for you.” Oriana pulled the bandage tighter and my ‘ow’ wasn’t deadpan anymore.

I didn’t think she was going to speak again but she did, “Training,” She scoffed. “I can’t believe you injured yourself so severely.” She looked up at me, “But at least it wasn’t a gunshot wound. At least your life isn’t as dangerous as that.”

“Yeah,” I agreed. Lying always has been my specialty.

Oriana pressed her lower body into my legs to keep me still against the counter. “Stop banging, you’re going to dent or chip it.”

I rolled my eyes and her grip tightened on my arm before she released me entirely.

“All done.”

I rolled my shoulder as best I could, “Great.”

Oriana stepped back and I hopped off the counter. Grabbing my jacket and slinging it over my available shoulder I called back to Oriana, “I’m going to work, Dain needs me.”

I was two steps from the front door when Oriana caught me by the shoulder. “Tayrn’s engagement party is tomorrow night,” She said it like I hadn’t been thinking about it since it was announced.

“Don’t worry,” I grinned at her, “I’ll be there to make everyone’s life hell.”

~~~~~~~~

“Jude,” Lilliver waved her hand in front of my face. “You’re spacing. Everything good?”

“What? Oh, yeah. It’s just…”

“The party.” Garrett said, matter of factly.

I gave him a look. “Yeah, I guess so.”

“Well lucky for you, you’ll be spending the whole time on a job,” Garrett said. Van and Lilliver winced.

“What?” I asked, meeting Garrett’s eyes. He didn’t flinch away from the harsh edge to my voice, the undoubtedly even harsher look in my eyes.

“Dain wanted us to tell you,” Van said, raising his voice as the music caught a crescendo.

We were in some day club that was clearly only for rich people. Sitting at a table tucked in a dark corner, watching as Dain mingled amongst the crowd. Shadows in the shadows, I mused. Weirdly appropriate.

I wasn’t sure who it was, but someone had rented the place and filled it with the highly respected, feared, higher-ups. Dain had heard about the event and invited himself, using the situation to make connections, and further the ones he already had.

He’d dragged us with him, of course. It was 11 at night, I was supposed to be curled on the couch with Vivi, eating ice cream out of the tub and watching Criminal Minds or beating up the punching bag in my room until my knuckles had split, even through the bandages and I couldn’t feel my arms. It depended on my mood.

But Lilliver had called me, said Dain needed his shadows, and that Garrett was waiting outside my apartment building. He had been. I have no idea how he got my address, but I’d refused to let him be my ride. He was too unpredictable, I couldn’t give him that blind faith. So I’d yelled to Vivi that my bike was out of gas and I needed hers and I’d pay her back for the miles, took her keys, and trailed behind Garrett’s car. And now, here we were.

I was nursing a glass of whiskey, mostly to calm my nerves as I followed Dain with my eyes, watching everyone who got too close to him.

“You don’t think anybody would try anything?” I’d asked when I got here, sliding in next to Lilliver in the booth.

“Someone’s done it before.” Van had muttered grimly.

I arched a brow, “What happened to them?”

Van just looked at Garrett, who was eyeing everyone and everything like they all had guns and were about to start shooting people.

I got the message and hadn’t inquired further.

“What does he want me to do?” I asked now.

“Locke’s a friend of Cardan’s.”

“I’m aware.”

Garrett rolled his eyes and I glared at him.

Resting my forearms on the table and leaning forward until I was closer to Van I said, “But Dain isn’t worried about Cardan taking the power, is he?”

“No.”

“But,” Lilliver cut in. “Locke has been seen with Madoc and Balekin. Being with Madoc isn’t that weird-”

“Yes, it is.” I interrupted.

“But Locke is going to be Madoc’s son-in-law. How is that weird?” Garrett asked, tearing his gaze from Dain.

“Madoc hates Locke, he isn’t very happy about Taryn marrying him.”

“For what he did to you?” Van asked.

I snorted, “You’re overestimating him. Nah, he just thinks Locke is a stuck-up prick who doesn’t deserve everything he has.”

“Fair,” Lilliver murmured and I nodded my agreement.

“But Balekin?”

I shook my head, “You don’t know Madoc like I do. If he’s talking to Balekin and it’s not about just security stuff? It can’t be good. Throw Locke into the equation and anything could happen.”

“Great,” Van drawled with an exasperated eye roll.

“So, Jude,” Lilliver asked after a moment of silence. “You have a good outfit, right?”

~~~ A few hours later, I was sitting on my couch, crossing and uncrossing my legs, waiting for Vivi to be finished getting ready.

“Viv!” I yelled.

“Patience is a virtue!” She screeched back from the bathroom.

“Anybody that has time for patience is wasting their life,” I muttered to myself, trying to relax back into the couch unsuccessfully.

I was too stiff all over, shoulders tight, leg muscles straining as I dug the soles of my heels into the carpet as if trying to keep myself on the ground. I curled my fingers into the plush cushion of the couch.

I was wearing a gold dress and matching heels, a small handgun strapped to one thigh, a knife on the other. The slits up the legs of my dress would allow me to retrieve them but kept them hidden enough from prying eyes.

Vivi was taking too long. I rose slowly from my place on the couch and walked to the bathroom. Some Taylor Swift was playing from the Bluetooth speaker perched precariously on the windowsill and Vivi swayed to the beat, slivers of dying sunlight curling in through the window to wind around her gold curls. She was touching up her mascara so she didn’t look at me when I entered.

“I know I’m taking forever, but you should be thanking me for not making you go too early.” I rolled my eyes and leaned against the doorway, not saying anything in response.

Suddenly Taylor’s voice cut off as Vivi’s phone rang. “Can you get that?” She asked me, but I was already reaching for it. I had to twist my arm half under her upper body to get to the other side of the countertop but I eventually reached it and glanced at the caller ID.

“Heather,” I said.

Vivi looked away from the mirror to blink at me and I took that as my cue to answer.

“Hey, Heather,” I said.

“Jude?”

“Yeah. Vivi’s busy being narcissistic so you get to talk to me instead.”

Heather’s laugh sounded like a fairy. “That’s alright, you’re not bad to talk to.”

“Thanks for lying to me,” I replied, leaning against the doorway again. “Is everything okay?”

“Oh, yeah. I just knew the engagement party was soon and figured I’d talk to Vi now before she gets too drunk to do anything.” I snorted, “That’s a very fair assessment. We would’ve been at the party already but Vivi is taking forever.” The last word was louder and Vivi stuck her middle finger up at me without even turning to face me.

Vivi finally set down the mascara wand and turned to me with her hands on her hips before making a toddler-esque grabbing motion.

“Well Vivi’s finally done getting ready, but she wants to talk to you.”

Heather snorted, “Nice. Well, have fun at the party, Jude.”

It was my turn to snort.

Heather’s voice got softer, “It’ll all be fine. You don’t have to stay for very long, and maybe you can find something to distract yourself with.” Oh, I have something to do, alright.

“Thanks,” I muttered before handing Vivi the phone. “Hey, baby,” Vivi said immediately and I shook my head. She stuck her tongue out at me before turning away and I took that as my cue to leave the bathroom.

~~~~

I was physically unable to stay still.

Vivi and I didn’t own a real car, so we’d called an Uber, and sitting in the backseat, I was doing everything but stay still. Vivi kept side-eyeing me when she glanced away from her phone, but she hadn’t said anything.

I was bouncing my leg, tapping a rhythm on the door of the car, the seatbelt, the seat below me, my arms.

Vivi paused in her texting, probably to Heather, to clamp a hand on my knee. It didn’t do much to actually stop my movements but it got me to look at her. “Why are you so nervous?”

“I’m not,” I said stiffly and turned away.

Vivi sighed and took her hand off my knee. “You can talk to me, Jude.” She whispered.

I didn’t respond.

~~~

Locke lived in a mansion. I’d been there before but it was still impressive. What took away a bit of that was that I knew he hadn’t worked for it. He was just a rich kid, born and raised. Like all the others that had looked down on me my entire life.

He fit in with Cardan.

Vivi thanked our Uber driver as we stepped out of the car onto the winding stone pathway leading up to the front door.

As the car sped off Vivi linked her arm through mine and yanked me forward to start walking to the door.

“Stop looking at the house like it murdered your cat,” Vivi muttered, her arm tightening briefly around mine.

I tried to school my scowl into something more neutral. It wasn’t easy.

“We’re here for Taryn,” Vivi continued, “You might not even have to see him, or them together at all.”

I nodded mechanically as my eyes drifted to the window on the second floor that I knew belonged to Locke’s bedroom. Would he keep his secrets locked in there? Taryn could get in there, so maybe not, but it was worth a shot.

Some servants pushed open the door to let us inside and Vivi and I froze in the doorway. It looked like some kind of fancy 1800s ball, but with smaller dresses.

“Is that Elowyn?” Vivi whispered. I followed her gaze. It was, indeed, Elowyn Greenbriar in all her glory, perched near a huge window as if preparing to leap out and make a run for it soon. She was eyeing everyone with that look of judgment that seemed to be a Greenbriar birthright, looking more expensive than Locke’s mansion itself.

“I didn’t think she and Locke were that close.”

“It’s not just her,” I realized, as my eyes fell on Cealia, who was worming her way through the crowd of people to reach her sister.

But Vivi had noticed something else. “Nicasia’s here,” She hissed. “And she’s headed this way.”

Vivi and I’s arms were still linked so I tugged lightly and dragged us deeper into the house and crowd of people, effectively disappearing from Nicasia’s line of sight.

I wasn’t ready to deal with her quite yet.

I breathed deeply through my nose and snatched a glass of champagne off a tray nearby, scanning the room.

How could I slip away and snoop without being detected?

“Hey, Jude.” I tightened my grip on my flute of champagne and turned to face Nicasia. Her expression wasn’t pleasant, so I didn’t bother trying to act pleased to see her, either.

“Nicasia,” God. Why did she have to be so pretty, a long, flowing dress that was so many different shades of blue, I couldn’t even count them. It looked like it was tailored to fit her-it probably was, actually. It rippled as she moved, like ocean waves on the shore. Her hair was loose for the most part, aside from a few intricate braids woven in that she had curled around a single finger.

She plucked the champagne from my hand and sipped leisurely. It made my blood boil.

“I figured you’re one of the few people who hates being here as much as I do.”

I grudgingly nodded and her answering grin was sharp.

“Why are the Greenbriars here?” I blurted before I could think better of it.

Nicasia blinked at me before responding. “Because they’re Greenbriars. They do whatever they want when they want.”

It wasn’t a real answer and I had a feeling that she wasn’t just being difficult; she didn’t know, and hated that she didn’t know.

Well, Nicasia and I had something in common.

“Are they all here?” I asked.

She shook her head, “Balekin was here for a total of fifteen minutes before he vanished somewhere,” She gestured vaguely, lips turned down in disgust. “I haven’t seen Dain anywhere, but the girls are here. And Cardan,” She added, pretending like it was an afterthought.

My gaze automatically shot into the crowd, taking note of every face. But none of them were Cardan.

“Do you love Locke?” She asked scornfully.

“Do you?” I shot back, like we were third graders.

She rolled her eyes, “I’d rather crawl naked over glass.”

“Then you have my answer.”

She just looked at me for a beat

Nicasia drained the glass and thrust it back into my hand. She gave me a final judging once over before strutting off in the other direction.

~~~~~~ The next half hour was nothing but mingling; I had to make it clear I was here, that I supported this. After Nicasia had left me alone, I gritted my teeth and dove into the cage of hungry sharks.

I slipped back into the darkness, listened to aristocrats talk to each other, pretending they were all above each other and felt the weight of the gun shifting under my dress; the cold metal pulsed like it was branding me.

I pretended I was one of them; the lies felt warm and comforting on my tongue, honey on a warm summer afternoon.

The realization hit me like a truck: I couldn't entirely blame this on the Shadows' crash course training these past few weeks. I had always had the capacity for this; lying and manipulating and scheming came as effortlessly to me as breathing. I had been born for this. The thought should've been terrifying, but it settled beneath my heart, caged in my ribs with a comforting weight that couldn't be ignored.

“Excuse me,” I murmured and slipped away from the group I’d been attempting to charm.

Balekin hadn’t resurfaced and I wasn’t stupid enough to think he’d left the party entirely so as I slid along the walls of the second floor of Locke’s mansion, I kept my ears and eyes tuned to catch any and all movements.

Locke’s office.

Yes!

I glanced around, feeling like I was in some kind of cliche mafia movie before attempting to turn the door handle. Locked. Okay. Not great. I could work with it though.

Being Madoc’s daughter and Vivienne Duarte’s sister gave me access to an arsenal of weird abilities to use in a pinch.

I reached up to my hair before remembering I didn’t pull it up, so I turned my attention to my clutch, hoping there was a bobby pin or paper clip or something in there.

I’d let my guard down.

I heard his uneven steps coming towards me too late.

“My sweet nemesis,” Cardan slurred. “What do you think you’re doing?” ~~~

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@ladyofbloodandroses @cultofvamps @itsmentalbreakdownhours

[hopelikethemoon]

New Beginnings (Javier x Reader) {MTMF}

Title: New Beginnings Rating: PG-13 Length: 2400 Warnings: Communication!  Notes: You can find everything about Maybe Today, Maybe Forever here. Set in January 1999.  Summary: Reader’s first day teaching. 

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All morning you had been a bundle of nerves. 

Your stomach was rolling with nausea from the two cups of coffee you had downed and the single slice of toast you ate that had done nothing to offset it. 

Over the years, you had given tedious presentations, handled training seminars, and even guest lectured for Javier, but somehow teaching your own class — on your own — was more than your nerves could handle. 

Maybe teaching had been the wrong choice for you. Did everyone feel this nervous on their first day?

“Hey,” Javier’s voice cut through your thoughts as he reached over and gave your knee a squeeze. “You’ve got this, baby.” 

“I’m glad you think I do.” You ghosted your fingers over the back of his hand, tilting your head to look at him with a small smile. “It’s not going to reflect badly on you if I bomb at this, right?”

He shrugged his shoulders, drumming his fingers against your leg. “First off, you’re not going to bomb it. I’m fairly certain my students liked you more than me last semester. Because you’re good.”

You glanced at the clock on the wall, watching as the second hand moved around the clock. You had fifteen minutes before you needed to be in your classroom to set up before the students started to arrive. 

“Let’s see who you’ve got,” Javier mused as he unfolded his glasses and pushed them up the bridge of his nose as he reached for your class roster. 

He dampened his thumb with his tongue before flipping through the pages of your binder, “Sasha Markey’s good. Bit of a teacher’s pet.”

“To you maybe.” You gave him a pointed look. 

Javier arched a brow, but didn’t argue you on that point. “I had Connor last semester.” He pointed to one of the two Connors on the sheet. “His writing skills aren’t very strong, but he’s got a good head on him. Keen on joining the CIA.”

“I’m sure you just loved him.” You teased lightly, chewing on your bottom lip as glanced at the roster. “Monica went over it with me last night. I think I’ve got three of your biggest fans. Probably trying to see what their competition is.”

He snorted. “Well, there’s no competition.”

You rolled your eyes. “It’s all your fault for looking so good last summer.”

“Just last summer?”

You hummed thoughtfully, but didn’t give him an answer. “I think I’m gonna go ahead to my classroom and try to get in the zone.” You told him as you started to stand up. “Is it bad that I’d rather be going into a dangerous operation in Colombia?” 

Javier stood too, catching your hand and tugging you back towards him. “Baby, you’ve got this.” He assured you, meeting your gaze with a warm smile. “I know it’s nerve wracking, but we both know that just means you give a shit about what you’re doing.” He brushed his knuckles against your cheek. “Good luck.”

“Thanks, Professor.” You pressed your tongue to the inside of your cheek as you held his gaze. “You won’t divorce me if I’m unemployed after today?”

He huffed out a laugh, “Oh, fuck off.” 

You shoved him playfully in the chest, before slipping out of his hold and gathering up your stack of materials. “See you in three hours.”

“I’ll be here.” He assured you. “Your students are lucky. Don’t forget that.”

You stopped in the doorway of the office and gave him a mock salute before leaving. 

Javier always had the utmost faith in you and your abilities. He’d never questioned your choices, your opinions, or your ideas. Even when he probably should’ve. 

 ——

 “It went so well.” You mused as you walked beside Javier towards the faculty parking lot. “I don’t know why I was so stressed out this morning.” 

“I told you.” Javier clicked his tongue against his teeth. “You’re a natural.”

You couldn’t stop smiling. “And three hours went by in no time. Is that normal?”

He nodded as he loosened his tie, “You get in the zone and nothing else matters.” He walked around to the passenger side of the car and opened it for you. “I’m glad you had a good first day.”

You reached out and ruffled the hair that fell across his forehead as you stood in front of him, “I don’t know why I was so nervous. The shit I’ve been through? Teaching is a breeze in comparison.”

“And I bet your class adored you.” Javier gave your hip a squeeze as he smiled at you. “Before you know it, you’ll be the one everyone’s trying to take.”

You laughed softly, shaking your head. “Don’t you worry, Professor. You’ve got the market cornered in this department.” Everyone adored him — even those who hated him for the sheer amount of course load he required in his courses. 

He rolled his eyes, “For the moment.” Javier leaned in and pressed a kiss to your forehead. “We’ve got an hour and a half before we’ve got to pick up the girls.”

“Hmm,” You scraped your teeth over your bottom lip as you tilted your head to look up at him. “Is this your way of telling me to pick what we should do with our free time?”

“Yeah,” He chuckled, patting your hip as he pressed a kiss your lips.

“We could hit the boardwalk on the way to pick them up.” You suggested, “It’s not quite beach weather, so it won’t be as crowded.”

He worked his jaw and shrugged, “I could do the beach.”

“Then it’s a plan.” You smiled, before ducking into the car. You settled your bag onto the floor by your feet, watching Javier through the windshield as he walked around to the driver’s side. “I could also use something to eat.”

“It’s almost dinner, baby.”

You made a face, “My slice of toast wore off about an hour ago.”

“Boardwalk fries?” He questioned as he turned the key in the ignition. 

“You read my mind.” 

“I can’t think of a single trip down to the boardwalk where we didn’t get fries or ice cream.”

“There were also street tacos and funnel cakes.” You reminded him, chewing on your thumb nail. “I’m a woman of taste.”

“Oh?”

“Well, when it comes to food.” You teased. “Jury’s out on my taste in men.”

“Ouch.” He snorted, shaking his head as he stopped at a light. 

You scrunched up your nose, “What?”

He gave you an amused look before starting through the intersection. “You’re a dork.” 

“Takes one to know one.” You retorted, stealing his sunglasses out of the center console and putting them on. “The evolution you’ve been on is something else.”

“My evolution? Look who’s talking.” He countered, reaching over to give your knee a squeeze. “We’ve both been on a ride since the eighties.” 

“Seriously!” You pushed your hair behind your ears. “I never saw this life for myself.” 

But it was better than anything you could’ve imagined. 

——

 “Serious question,” You started, pointing a fry at Javier before eating it. “I don’t know if this is a therapy question or not.”

Javier arched a brow, “Well shit, baby. That’s a hell of a lead in.” He reached for the dish and snatched up two fries. 

You made a face and admitted, “It just came to me.” 

He squinted at you behind the lenses of his sunglasses, his brows furrowed together. “Is this a bad question?”

“Not really,” You shrugged. “It’s probably stupid, honestly.”

“There’s no stupid questions.” Javier reminded you, parroting back the things that Nancy had told you both when you were working on communication. 

You sighed heavily, “Alright. Well, I was thinking about that period after Sofía was born.”

“Shit.” He rubbed his thumb over his bottom lip, looking away from you then. 

“I know.” You gave a hollow laugh at that. “Before Chucho left, the two of you came down here.” You gestured to the beach. “And I just remember how nervous I was about whatever the two of you talked about.” You glanced at him, watching the way his lips pressed into a thin line as he stared at the horizon. “Obviously you’re under no obligation to tell me about your private conversations, but I’ve always wondered.”

Javier’s shoulders sank and he raked his fingers through his hair, “There’s no secrets between us, baby.” He reminded you as he tilted his head enough to look at you. “Shit was bad back then and I went to him for advice. I knew something was wrong. You and I know now that I misunderstood the situation.”

“My dumbass figured it was a ‘Don’t Marry Lorraine’ type conversation about me.”

He stared at you, “You thought that?”

“That’s how I remember feeling,” You bowed your head. “I thought about a lot of shit back then.” You picked you another fry, eating a small bite off the end of it. 

Javier reached out and ran his hand over your back, giving your shoulder a squeeze. “I mean, we did talk about you, baby. But it was all about how I thought I was gonna lose you. He talked me off a ledge.”

You met his gaze, “I’m sorry I put you through that.”

“Don’t be.” He shrugged a shoulder, picking up another fry, chewing on it as he looked back towards the ocean. “He convinced me to stick it out, you know? And I listened to him.”

“I wouldn’t have blamed you if you ran.”

Javier clicked his tongue against his teeth, “I didn’t want to. But I was at wit’s end and… I don’t know, he was getting ready to head back to Texas and I wanted to know what he thought.”

“I’m glad he told you to stick it out. I hope it was worth it.” You nudged his leg. 

“It was worth it.” He narrowed his eyes at you and scoffed. “If we hadn’t weathered that storm, do you think we’d be married right now?”

You shook your head slowly, rubbing your lips together. “I don’t know where we’d be if Connie hadn’t recognized what was going on.”

“Probably not sitting on this bench eating fries.”

You popped another one into your mouth, smiling at him as you chewed it. “We might be. It would just be uncomfortable and tense.”

“As much as I hated that period of time,” Javier started, reaching over to give your leg a squeeze. “I can’t even begin to imagine how it felt for you.”

“I like I was losing my mind.” You admitted. “Sometimes it felt like I wasn’t me. Like someone else had taken up residency.” You leaned against his arm, resting your cheek against his shoulder. “It used to be like that when I was younger. I’d push and push and then wonder why I was alone.”

Javier hummed quietly, rubbing his thumb over your leg as he listened to you. “Thank God for Nancy.” 

“Seriously.” You ate another fry, before picking up another and holding it in front of his mouth. 

He chuckled and caught it between his teeth. “What got you thinking about all of this?”

“I don’t know.” You shrugged, “It came to me last night. Josie was talking about Sofía stealing that silly Beanie Baby of hers and then I started thinking about the hospital and coming home.” 

He squeezed your leg, “You should’ve talked to me about it.”

“Am I not telling you right now?” You turned your head to press a kiss to the underside of his jaw. “It felt like stupid first day jitters.” 

Javier nodded slowly, “I get that.” How many times had he had nightmares every time there was change in your lives? “You gonna talk to Nancy?”

“We’re still grappling with the mother topic.” You made a face, “I don’t know if this really justifies a whole session.” You ate another fry. “And besides, now that I know your father wasn’t lecturing you on escaping from my craziness — it’s a moot point.”

He gave your leg another pat, “We both know he’d choose you.”

“I wasn’t going to say it.” 

Javier snorted, “But you were thinking it.”

“Maybe.” You popped another fry into your mouth. “You know Javi, you can always talk to me too. I think that’s obvious, but I figured I’d say it.” 

He pressed his tongue to the inside of his cheek, “The most I worry about these days is getting old.”

“Me too.” You nudged him in the ribs. “About you, at least, old man.” 

Javier huffed, “Laugh it up, baby. You’re the one who will be taking care of me in my old age.”

“I look forward to it,” You retorted. “It means we’re both old together.” You ate one more fry before scooting forward on the bench. “Do you want anymore?”

“I’m good.”

“Good. I was planning on making the seagulls’ day.” 

“You know they’re gonna swarm.” Javier complained as he rose to his feet, rolling his shoulders. 

“Then I guess you’re gonna need to get your running shoes on.” You taunted as you tossed the fries a few feet in front of you — causing a flock of hungry seagulls to swoop down on their dinner. 

Javier grabbed your hand, holding it tight as you both booked it back up the stairs to the boardwalk, away from the seagulls who assumed you had more food on you. 

Once you were safely locked inside the car — you both started laughing. The sort of laughter that started in your belly and warmed your chest as you sputtered and coughed from it. A feeling you wanted to cling to and keep with you always.

“Hey,” Javier managed, clearing his throat before chuckling again as he met your gaze. 

“Yeah?”

Instead of answering, he leaned across the center console and kissed you. You sank into the kiss and chased after his lips as he pulled back. 

“I love you.” He told you, brushing his fingers over your cheek. “I’m glad we’re working together again.”

You grinned at him, “Me too. Even if it isn’t as exciting as taking down drug cartels.”

“Just you wait until exams.”

You groaned dramatically, “Don’t remind me.”

“Only four months.” He arched a brow, before glancing at the clock. “And we’re gonna be late if we don’t leave right now. Shit.”

“Whoops.” You grimaced as you buckled your seatbelt.