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silentglassbreak · 10 months ago

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(photo cred to @lilyhella's post)

Fragmented

Noah Sebastian x OFC

Chapters are shorter because I want to get this story out faster. Just means more chapters than the original. The love I am getting from this story, and from Anonymous, has me absolutely dying. You all are the best. Thank you so much for taking the time to follow this! 🖤

Warnings: Desperate, sad, heartbroken smut.

+It goes without saying. This is a work of fiction. My words are mine. Plagiarism is a crime.

Taglist: @flowery-mess @lma1986 @myownthoughts12 @poisongirl616 @missduffsblog @reidsblessing @malerieee @jilliemiw86 @thisbicc

Also, @diabolicdiatonics, your kind words and feedback earned you a spot on the tag list. 😉

Part 5 - Blurry

‘Having your heart ripped out of your chest’ is a grotesque, yet extremely accurate metaphor to use when you’re dealing with heartbreak. The pain, the depression, the perspective it gives, I can imagine resembles that of someone tearing through your flesh, muscle, and bone, ripping your beating heart out, and throwing it on the floor like it means nothing.

Ironic, because I’d prefer that to what I was currently feeling.

Two days had gone by since Mileena ended us. Two slow, long, painful days. One of the best parts about being a parent, that no one forewarns you of, is that you don’t get to break down. Not when you have kids.

After that phone call, all I wanted was to crawl in a hole. If anything, just to keep myself from crawling into a bar or a bottle. I wanted to lay in bed and never wake up. Stay in the safe bubble of my room forever, where the pillows and sheets and blanket smelled like her.

Is that what I did? No. I promptly took my daughter home, and kept her for the following forty-eight hours.

She didn’t deserve to see the pain that this had caused, that I somehow managed to conjure. She deserved her Daddy’s full attention, and that is exactly what she got.

The first night was hard. I had to text Leena several times to ask questions. Had her bedtime changed? Why did she keep throwing her favorite stuffed lion out of the crib? Where was the rash cream? What the hell did ‘handle’ mean?!

Leena: We go to bed at 8:30 now.

Leena: She’ll do that over and over. She’s messing with you. She’ll stop after a few times.

Leena: Medicine cabinet, Addie’s bathroom, top shelf.

Leena: Angel. She misses the dog.

Her responses were robotic. Cold. No emotion at all.

After Addison finally fell asleep, I had no time to sulk. The tour exhaustion creeping in and the weight of the entire day pulled me into bed, narrowly managing to click the baby monitor on before I fell into a slumber. In my dreams, Mileena was with me, curling her arm around my waist like she did, pressing her ice cold feet to the back of my legs, and all was right with the world.

But that reprieve didn’t last nearly long enough, as Addison was awake, bright and early at 6:30AM, ready to eat and be changed.

How did Mileena do this for months alone? I was twelve hours in and felt like dying already.

That day, I called and begged for help, prompting Nick to come hang with Addison and I for most of the day. He also, thankfully, brought Angel to stay with us until Addison went back to Mileena.

We didn’t talk about it. I couldn’t. It felt too real already.

The day passed easier, but I still had to ask too many questions.

Me: She wont eat her puffs. Is there something else she eats now?

Leena: Cereal.

Me: What’s the wifi password?

Leena: Addison1031!

Me: What size diapers does she wear?

Leena: It’s on the front of the diaper.

By the final day, I had vowed not to ask any more questions. I was a father, a grown man, I could handle my own daughter. I could make decisions and figure out how to keep her happy and fed. I wasn’t an invalid.

So that’s exactly what I did. I didn’t ask a single question the entire day. Each time I managed to figure out what Addison needed or wanted, I cheered for myself, proud that I could manage.

But by midday, my phone had chimed on the counter while I fed Addie lunch.

Leena: Everything okay?

I scrunched my eyebrows.

Me: Yeah, why?

Leena: Haven’t heard from you all day.

This made me roll my eyes.

Me: I am an adult. I can handle an 18-month old.

Leena: Okay. Is 7 a good time to come by and get her?

My heart sunk, a regular feeling for me these days.

Me: Sure.

I pursed my lips, typing again.

Me: Are you sending someone else to come get her?

Leena: Do you want me to?

I thought about this. Did I want to see her? Feel the hurt even more than I already could? Have her so close that I could touch her, but not be allowed to? Rip that wound, that had only barely begun to scab, back open wide to bleed all over?

Me: No.

Yes. Yes I did.

I was frazzled, Addison in stage four meltdown mode. She was extra tired, having refused to go down for a nap today. It was 6PM, and I hadn’t had the opportunity to pick up the living room or kitchen yet like I planned, intending to not look like a total mess in front of Leena.

My sweats were covered in what could only be described as mystery goo, crusted and a foul color. Was it food? Crap? Boogers? What a time to be alive.

“Lady, I don’t know where your lion is!” I was currently ripping my living room apart, sweat coating my forehead and neck, while my daughter sat in her walker, screaming bloody murder for her toy over and over.

“Where did you put him, mama?!” The couch cushions were askew, the coffee table pushed off to the side, and all of the cabinets in the entertainment center wide open.

The constant screaming burned a hole in my brain. I stood up, and took a calculated breath before my head exploded. It hurt so God damn bad, and the ibuprofen was just not cutting it.

It was at that exact moment I saw a flash of yellow fuzz fly by my peripheral, and I whipped my head around to see Angel, lion between his teeth, standing at attention at the edge of the living room.

I let out all of the air in my lungs, nearly collapsing in relief when he trotted over to the baby, dropping the stuffed toy on her tray and licking away her drying tears.

My body fell back onto the remaining intact cushion, and I dropped my head into my hands.

Who was I kidding? I can’t do this.

Like some kind of cosmic joke, the doorbell rang just as the thought crossed my mind, and I heavily lifted myself up, stalking to the door.

I pulled it open, any stress and anxiety melting, and an overwhelming calm overtaking me. As it sunk in, the tinge of dread at the end kept me from smiling at the sight.

Mileena stood on the other side, black tank top cut low, jean’s hugging her hips, flip-flops showing off black painted toe nails. Her hair was pulled into a tight bun on top of her head where her sunglasses were perched.

“Hey.”

I couldn’t think. I couldn’t breathe. I just wanted to fall, let her catch me. I wanted to break down like a small child, and cry. Listen to her tell me it was okay. She was done punishing me, and she would come home. That life would go back to the way it was supposed to. That she loved me, and forgave me, and that we’d never be apart again.

But I knew better.

“Hey. Come in.” I stood aside, letting her step inside, watching as her eyes surveyed the scene in front of her. She looked amused.

I began twirling around, putting cushions back and straightening the table. Picking up toys and tossing them in the bin, closing cabinets.

I looked back at her, frozen in the same spot, a grin on her face. My chest lurched for a second, until she lifted her finger and pointed behind me.

Confused, I looked back, seeing Addison now laying her head down atop her lion, eyes closed and snoozing comfortably. Still bent over, completely defeated, I fell back onto the floor, knees bent, and rested my arms on them, shaking my head and chest trembling with quiet laughter. Leena took a step into the living room, chuckling herself.

"Long day?"

I just looked at her, and shrugged. "Maybe a little."

Her eyes were sympathetic. Her smile was tight.

"Uhm," She shifted, and it was then I noticed the tote bag on her shoulder. "do you mind if I run upstairs for a minute? I just need to grab a few things."

I waved toward the staircase lazily. "Go for it. Looks worse up there though."

My tone was dismissive, which wasn't exactly on purpose, but I couldn't muster anything else in that moment. She just nodded, trotting up the steps. I just stared at Addie, breathing evenly, thinking about how simple life seemed when she was sleeping.

"Noah?" I looked up to see her, hanging slightly over the banister. "Have you seen my flat iron?"

"Under the bathroom sink."

She shook her head. "It's not."

I grunted, standing back up. "Angel." I snapped and grabbed his attention, pointing at Addison. He promptly jumped up from his bed in the corner of the room, and curled up in front of the walker, always keeping watch.

I jogged up the stairs, brushing past Mileena, making a conscious effort not to notice that she smelled like fresh soap. Recently showered.

I swung into the bathroom, bending down to look under the sink, and dug around the miscellaneous items that lived under there. I finally located it, beneath a stack of towels, and pulled it out. She was stood in the doorway to the bathroom, and I handed it to her, stopping just short of a foot in front of her.

She grabbed it gratefully. "Thanks."

Leena turned around and disappeared into the closet, coming back out with some clothes she had left, and other random items that I didn't take note of. I leaned against the frame of the bathroom door, just watching her move. It made it worse, seeing her empty her things out of the bedroom, but maybe it would help me accept the situation? I definitely didn't have the energy to fight.

She finally zipped the bag, and looked up at me. "I think that's good for now. I can always grab more when I drop her off again."

"Mm." Was all I could say.

She shrugged, and sat down on the bed, her large, deep brown eyes staring at me.

"Do you hate me?"

She's joking, right? She had to be.

"What?"

"You look like you hate me."

This made me laugh from somewhere deep in my chest, a twisted, sadistic cackle. "Wow."

She crinkled her nose. So fucking cute. "Wow, what?"

I grabbed the back of my neck and looked down at the floor, trying to find the strength.

"No, Mileena. I don't hate you." I pulled at the hairs that grew at the base of my skull, begging for a sensation other than this fucking misery. "Quite the opposite, actually."

Her face looked...sad. So fucking sad. I could relate.

"I hate this." I pointed to the bag next to her on the bed. "But not you."

Her hand tapped the mattress, beckoning me to sit. I knew I should give her a wide enough berth, fearing I may lose control at any given moment. I wasn't good at that in general, but around Mileena? Fucking hell.

I didn't budge.

She rolled her eyes. "Noah. Come sit with me."

Well, I mean, when she put it that way.

I walked over to the bed, and sat. I kept at least six inches of space between us, and looked at her.

Her eyes were shiny; wet. This was hard for her, and I knew that, but I couldn't see how she could be hurting as much as me.

I was worth losing. She wasn't.

"I just," Her voice was crackling, as if it was almost gone. "I miss you."

"You know how to fix that." My words were so matter-of-fact, and I knew it wasn't that easy, but I wanted it to be.

"I told you. I can't."

"Can't, or won't?"

She was just gazing at me. There was something behind her eyes, that I was sure she didn't want me to see, something vulnerable and broken. Her soul. It hurt.

Maybe that's why she grabbed me, wrapped her arms around me, and buried her head in my chest. It startled me, but my arms still circled her, and my chin came to rest on her head. Her body was trembling hard, soft cries coming out of her.

I pressed my lips in to the top of her head, my own tears beginning to spill over, soaking into her hair.

"It's alright, baby. I got you." I tried my damndest to keep my voice even, hugging her tighter the harder she sobbed.

"Noah, I love you so fucking much."

I began rocking us gently. "I love you too, Mileena. More than you could ever understand."

Her fingers were gripping the shirt on my back like her life depended on it. "I'm so fucking sorry. I'm so sorry."

Her words were so quiet that I almost missed them.

I pulled back, looking down at her reddened face. "Don't."

Her eyes widened, her lip shaking.

"Don't apologize."

I don't know why. I didn't even think. I just leaned down, and brushed a soft kiss against her lips, as if it was nothing. Like a reflex.

But when I tried to pull away, her hand had me, the back of my neck locked into place, and her mouth pressing against me hastily, as if she was starving. Like she would never get the chance again.

A spark ignited inside of me, a roaring fire building in my chest, and for the first time in days, I finally felt alive. The blood shooting through my veins was hot as sulfuric acid, needing to be put to use or it may burn through my skin.

Pressing my tongue into her mouth, she let a gasping moan come out of her mouth.

That was it. She was done for. Even if only in this moment, she was mine.

I dug my fingers into her waist, and flipped her around, pushing her back onto the bed, without disconnecting our lips. I sucked her bottom lip into my mouth, letting my teeth dig in hard enough to make her whimper.

Trailing wet kisses down the side of her neck, I let my left hand trail down the center of her body, and pop the button of her jeans open effortlessly, pulling the zipper down.

"Noah."

She was trying to get my attention, as if she didn't have every shred of my mind on her at all times. I didn't stop, my hand sliding down into the front of her jeans, fingers slipping into her panties.

"You tell me to stop, and it's done." I spoke against her neck, making her shiver.

I paused, waiting, but heard no sounds of protest. Just hot, ragged breathing.

Mercilessly, my hand slipped down between her lips, my index finger penetrating her smoothly, making her back arch clean off the bed.

"That's it, baby." I pressed my lips to her cheek, slipping my middle finger in, curling both digits to graze her sweet spot. "Just let it all go."

It was as if a rubber band snapped in her, her body loosening, relaxing beneath my touch. Her eyes had fluttered closed, her lashes dancing on her cheekbones. I watched her, mouth open, drinking in the sight of her coming undone. Her hips bucked, fucking herself harder on my hand.

Her hands pulled at my arm, grounding herself. "I'm going to fucking come." Her words were broken, fighting for breath.

"Yeah baby, come for me." I pressed against the soft spot inside of her, applying more steady pressure as I fingered her savagely.

I saw her eyes rolling back, and felt her spasm around my hand, a flood of moisture soaking her panties.

She reached her face up, connecting our lips again, and we laid there, making out for longer than necessary, arms and legs tangled together. How long we stayed like this, I just couldn't say. I would've stayed there forever if I could.

Eventually her hand snaked down to my sweats, palming the hard erection I had been trying to ignore. I grunted, pushing up into her hand. I would take any touch, any attention, from her.

"Noah?"

I pressed my forehead to hers, noses bumping as I continued to press light kisses on her lips. "Hmm?"

"I need you."

I am not one to deny someone their needs.

It took a fraction of a second before I had her jeans off, panties going along with, and was sliding my sweats down, letting my cock free. Her eyes stared at me, half-masked. Waiting.

I had no time to waste, for fear at any moment she may just disappear, so I lined myself up to her, and pressed in hard. She let out a noise that could only be described as guttural. I took a moment to adjust, trying not to explode right then and there. Once I had gotten a grip on myself, I began sliding slowly in and out of her.

Her hands grabbed me, fisting the hair on the back of my head, and pulled my face down to hers, locking us again in a warm, wet kiss. The emotion that poured between us was an ebb and flow of want and regret, not knowing what was coming after this was over.

Leena’s hips shifted to meet my thrusts, our bodies pressed together in a rhythmic dance. We parted to breathe, panting together, each growing closer to our respective climaxes.

“Noah,” She was staring up at me. “I love you.” She grit her teeth. “Fuck, I love you so much.”

I had to close my eyes, focusing on the feel of her around me, her pussy tighter and tighter with each thrust.

“Fuck, Mileena. I fucking love you.”

Her hands were now holding my shoulders, her face desperate. Her eyes begged me to come as I felt her begin to spasm again.

That’s all it took. I let go, the waves rushing over me all at once, my skin burning white hot.

We stared at each other for a long time, pain being shared between the small space of our bodies. It was almost suffocating, but I preferred it over feeling like I would never be here again. That single fact was enough to keep me locked onto her, silently begging her not to leave me.

However, she broke our connection, shifting underneath me, a sign that this was done. The moment had gone, and it was time to let reality back into the room.

Two weeks. Two weeks without my better half. The side of my soul that held anything good and sane. Two weeks I had felt like the shell of a human, a suit of skin hung over a skeleton like some kind of elaborate Halloween decoration. Two weeks I had felt like I was going to die at any given moment, or wished I would.

Somehow, I was still breathing.

Today was going to be different, though. I had received a call from Alec, our representative from Sumerian, saying that the meeting was set and we all needed to be there.

I anticipated this meeting every second since that moment in the hotel. It was finally time to make things right, to at least some degree. I was nothing if not ecstatic.

My truck parked neatly next to Jolly's Audi in the parking lot, I met the guys, who all stood outside the building, chatting.

"Afternoon, gents." The smile across my face nearly broke my jaw.

"Hey, he's alive!" Folio's arm came up to shove me, making me shove back playfully.

"Shut up, dude. I'm going through shit."

He responded with an eye roll. "Can't even check in, dick."

"Cut the man some slack, he's adjusting." Nick snickered.

"Yep. I'm adjusting." I laughed.

A woman, nearly as tall as me, clean-cut and wildly intimidating, opened the door to the building and addressed us.

"Guys? We're about to get started."

We all straightened up, walking into the office and following her to a conference room.

"Ah, guys!" Alec stood from the long meeting table, a warm smile on his face. He was dressed casually, jeans and a plain blue t-shirt, coming around to give each of us a hard hug. "Good to see you."

We all said our greetings before taking seats on the same side of the table as Alec. The woman, who I had not met yet, was sat on the other side, a folder in front of her and a pen in her hands.

"This is Elizabeth Jones, our attorney." She nodded.

"Wish we were meeting under better circumstances." We all nodded in approval. She sighed, looking at the time on her watch. "She should be here shortly."

My heart began thumping when I could hear the door handle turning, and the heavy wooden door swinging open. I leaned back in my seat, my hands folded over my stomach. I caught Alec's face, giving me a knowing glance to keep my mouth shut.

"Rachel. Come in."

Rachel walked in, dressed more professional than I think I had ever seen. She wore black slacks, a grey, sleeveless blouse, and her hair was pulled back into a tight ponytail. Her lipstick was bright red. Likely due to the demon living inside of her attempting to escape. I only allowed myself a fleeting glance before I stared down at the table.

"What can I do for you all?"

Elizabeth stood to greet her.

"Rachel, I'm Elizabeth, nice to meet you." Her smile was fake, snake-like. I loved it. Deception. Rachel's exact game being played against her.

The blonde sat directly across from me, and I could feel her eyes on me. I didn't even bother looking back at her. She didn't deserve that. Not from me.

"Rachel, we brought you here to discuss the events that took place in Manhattan, and San Diego." Alec's voice was calm.

I heard her sigh. "I assumed as much."

"Okay. Well," I looked over to see him gesturing with his hands. "you see, it's come to our attention that there is some hostile tension between you, and some of the members of the band."

I looked over to my brothers, noticing they all glared directly at her.

"Tension?" She scoffed. "You mean the way Noah nearly attacked me at the hotel?"

My jaw tightened. Shut up. Don't say a word.

"The story we heard had to do with you causing a scene in the hallway of the hotel, making advances toward Noah, and spreading some rather salacious rumors about him at a club in New York."

Her hand slapped down on the table, causing a loud, sharp sound to echo in the room. I didn't move an inch.

"That's bullshit! He came to my fucking room late at night, misconstrued me asking to hang out, and then nearly pounced on me three days later when his girlfriend fucking left him!"

Don't fucking speak, Noah. It's not fucking worth it.

My hands were nearly ripping the skin off each other, my nails digging in to keep from letting my rage spill over.

"Ms. Hollis," Elizabeth's voice came in, unnaturally soothing. "the details of the events are unimportant." She sent a stare at me, to which I did not return.

"So why am I here?" Rachel's voice was irritated. Yes, what an inconvenience this must be...for her.

"Due to the aforementioned tension, and lack of cohesion with this working relationship, we would like to make you an offer."

I finally snuck a glance at Rachel, who had an eyebrow raised at Elizabeth in apprehension.

"What kind of offer?"

Elizabeth slid the folder over to her, setting a manicured hand down on the table.

"Six months pay, up front. All vacation days paid out, and several letters of recommendation from Sumerian."

Her mouth fell open, and her eyes narrowed. "You're firing me?!"

She turned her attention back to Alec, her voice becoming shrill.

"It's a separation." Alec was cold.

Rachel stood up, shoving the folder back at Elizabeth.

"Oh fuck that, you can't fire me over this!"

"Again, this is not a termination, Rachel. It's an amicable separation."

Elizabeth, however, was met with the end of Rachel's pointer finger.

"How dare you!" She turned to us next, her lips sneer and teeth bared. "And you!" She looked directly at me. I challenged her gaze, and couldn't help but let slip the slightest smirk.

"Oh, you fucking bastards." She backed away from the table. "You'll be hearing from my fucking lawyer."

The last of her I saw was a flash of her hair before the door slammed shut.

"Guys?" Jolly looked at Alec and Elizabeth. "Do we need to be worried?"

Elizabeth just stood, sighing heavily.

"I hope not."

#noah sebastian #bad omens fanfiction #bad omens #fanfic #noah sebastian fic

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pedroshotwifey · 11 months ago

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Favorite Bounty chapter 5

Series Masterlist

Pairing: Din Djarin x afab!bounty!reader

Chapter word count: 7.3k

Chapter summary: Being on the run is harder than you thought...

Chapter tags/warnings: angst, canon-typical violence, cliffhangers bc I like chaos, stuff I'm forgetting

A/N: Hey, y'all!! I'm so, so sorry this took so long to get out! I think I had gotten used to writing shorter fics, so doing a long chapter was just kind of a pain for me. I'm super happy to get this updated though. Gonna go ahead and say that this will likely be a short series with less than ten chapters purely because of the length of each one, but that's not set in stone. If this is your first time reading this series, there are four parts before this! <3

****

It’s easy to get lost in the crowd once you step off the Crest. Mando had landed fairly close to the open market but, unfortunately, a good bit away from the spaceport. You immediately get sucked into the throng of people browsing the shops, your heart pounding hard against your ribs. The only thought that settles your ridiculous pulse is that you must be pretty damn hard to find mixed in with this lot. Though, of course, you know Mando, and you know that if he really wanted to spot you, he would. Bounty hunting fucking bastard.

You can't help but look over your shoulder every couple of minutes. Each time you do so, you fully expect to see Mando trailing behind you, cuffs in hand. You choose to ignore the pang of hurt in your chest when you think about him—about how easily he betrayed you. It didn’t even seem like he gave it a second thought. You curse yourself for dwelling on the issue and shake your head. You can't afford to waste time on facts you have already accepted.

You stumble as a man knocks into your shoulder, bringing you out of your thoughts and making you lose your balance. You narrowly miss running into a woman holding hands with a young boy as you struggle to keep yourself up. You flash her a sorry look in response to her dirty one. You really need to figure out where you’re supposed to be going. You’re unfamiliar with Nevarro’s layout so you have no idea what direction you should go.

You walk straight for a few minutes before you decide that isn’t going to get you anywhere. This part of the planet is so ridiculously congested that there's no point in even moving your feet if you don’t have a set path. There's no telling which way you might be swept. kriff, a few minutes from now, you might realize that you had been traveling in a circle, and hadn’t even noticed.

Deciding that you would like to avoid such a circumstance, you push your way out to the side of the crowd so you can find somewhere to get a better view. You have to be quick about it—you know you’re low on time as it is, you can’t waste precious seconds trying to figure out a game-plan. You need to come up with a quick and easy route in a quick and easy fashion.

Fortunately, as you push your way out of the heated blob of people, you spot a building that looks easy enough to get on top of. It's not super high up, so you won’t attract any unwanted attention, but it’s just tall enough for you to be able to spot the space-port.

You figure it’s the best plan you’re going to be able to think of for now, so you quickly scramble to the side of the building, stopping in front of the ladder that goes all the way up to the top. Grabbing the first wrung, you begin to climb up, glancing back every now and out of paranoia. Of course, Mando’s never there, but you can’t help but check just in case.

On the roof, you find that it’s easy—just as you suspected—to spot the port over the thousands of people. You easily map out a path before rushing back down the ladder. It shouldn’t take too long to get to the port, most of the roads you picked out were clear of people for the most part.

Once your feet are back on the ground, you take off toward the first turn in your plan. It looks pretty busy, but from here it should be smooth sailing.

You become part of the market crowd the second you turn onto the street. Your jaw drops at the sight of so many people in one place. And you had thought there had been a lot of people around the crest… that was nothing. It definitely didn’t look like that many people from above.

The throng of people is quick to take you into its embrace as you hastily make your way into the streets filled to the brim with shops. Everywhere you look, there is some kind of cart or stand offering some kind of merchandise. You ignore it all as you try to push your way through the crowd.

It’s a bit hard to do when there are vendors shouting in your ear and popping out in front of you, making you stop briefly as they shove their product in your face. You resist the urge to push people out of your way. You really don’t have the time—or patience—for this right now, but you don’t need to draw unwanted attention.

You look for signs posted with directions, letting them guide you until you’re able to push your way out of the main strip and into a less crowded street. You let out a breath of relief as you take in your surroundings, noticing the port close by. It’s not a straight shot, but it should only take you another few minutes or so.

You try to stay discreet as you cling to sides of buildings and use hanging awnings for cover. It’s surprisingly hard to act nonchalant and unsuspicious if you’re trying too hard to do so. Having a price on your head is a real pain in the ass.

Adrenaline starts to sneak into your system as you grow close enough to the ships to decide which one to take. You need to be quick and choose one that will be leaving within the next few minutes. You know well enough to be aware of the fact that security will start to check passengers if there’s word of an escaped bounty. You can feel your breath starting to grow thinner and your body getting hotter.

There’s a passenger ship near the back of the port. It seems smart enough to catch something like that so you don’t seem like you’re, well, on the run. You look around again before starting that way, breezing past people to find the line for tickets. You cross your fingers that there will be spots available on such short notice.

As you approach the stand, you discover that there are only a few people waiting to purchase a seat. By the time you’re standing still, there’s only one person in front of you. A warm feeling rushes through your body, making you almost light-headed. You’re so close to escaping. Nobody ever does that.

“Next!”

You take a breath as you step up, trying to calm your nerves.

“Hi, I need to get one ticket to…” you glance at the sign hanging from the stand. “Coruscant.” You wince internally. That probably isn't the best place to go in this situation, but at least you’ll be off of this planet.

The woman looks at you skeptically, obviously confused by why you didn’t even know where the ship would be going. You flash her what you hope is a disarming smile as she squints and tells you your total none-the-less.

You quickly swing your bag around and unzip it, pulling out your money. You’re handing it over when you hear your name called from behind you.

Your heart drops to your ass as you turn, wide eyed, to see Mando running full speed at you. You don’t even have a second to think before you’re running too, scanning the area in front of you for an escape route.

Curses repeat themselves endlessly in your panicked mind as you spy a ship getting ready to depart. It’s beat up and seedy looking, but it’s also likely your only chance. With one more glance behind you, you turn sharply to the left and make a bee-line for your escape.

You try to focus on your breathing instead of the Mandalorian quickly gaining on you. The ship you’re headed toward is already starting to descend, and you just about triple your efforts.

You hear your name again, and it makes you wince. A dull throb starts in your chest. Being this close in proximity with Mando again, but now as official enemies, hurts in a way you didn’t think was possible.

You’ve been betrayed before, but not in such an intimate way. The fact that he pretended to have genuine interest in you—to engage in sexual acts with you—when he knew the entire time that he would be turning you in for a reward, digs deep into your chest like a rusted knife.

Tears are obstructing your vision before you can deny them, but you push through until you’re only a few feet away from your ship. The gangplank is still open about halfway, but it should be enough for you to squeeze through by the time you reach it. It’s maybe five feet in the air right now, so it’s going to be tough to get up there.

Mando is only a few feet behind you now. You lunge for the plank with everything you have, and your fingers grasp on by just a few inches, the jagged metal stinging as you pull up enough to get both arms up.

You look at the ground, seeing Mando coming to a stop from where you just jumped. You’re up too high now for him to jump after you, but you forget he has his jetpack until it comes to life. You scramble up the plank as it continues closing to avoid getting cut in half.

In the end, it’s your only saving grace. You and Mando are able to see each other face to helmet briefly before you’re closed inside, and you make sure to let him see the raw anguish on your face before it does so. You almost wish he had that stupid helmet off so you could see for yourself if the asshole has any kind of remorse.

A shuddering breath escapes from your lips as you wipe your tears. You turn around on your knees to examine the ship. It’s dark, dingy, and smells absolutely horrid. There’s no crew in sight, to your absolute relief.

Resisting the urge to gag at the stench, you begin to crawl quietly away from the closed hatch. There are crates everywhere, taking as much floor space as possible and stacked as high as they can go. You’re confused for a moment as to why there needs to be so much product on board, but then a heavy realization dawns on you.

These chests are filled with spice.

You’ve seen these come in at your job at the junkyard. Old ones that had surpassed any kind of use for runners. Never in your life though, have you ever seen so many in one place. You absentmindedly hold your breath as you crawl forward, trying to find a place to hide.

You stop in your tracks when you hear laughter coming from the cockpit—at least two men.

Shitshitshitshitshit

There’s no getting out of this if you’re discovered. Your heart races in your chest as fear overtakes your body. You really can’t seem to catch a fucking break, can you?

You look around frantically until you see a small space toward the ceiling. It’s partially covered by a crate, which will make it harder to get to, but better for hiding. You scootch to the end of the crate you’re currently behind, peeking your head out just enough to make sure the hull is clear.

As soon as you’re in the clear, you bolt as quickly and quietly as you can toward the concealed space. As you approach, you map out the notches and grooves you’re going to use to climb up there.

Step by shaky step, you pull yourself up, ignoring the stinging cuts in your hands and forearms from the plank. They’re not very deep or wide, but the strain on them hurts almost just as much.

The crate at the top wobbles as you put all of your weight on it, the entire stack swaying slightly. Your eyes flutter shut as you mutter a silent prayer. It’s much too precarious for your liking as you swing one leg onto the edge of the cubby. You’re way too close for this plan to fail now.

You’re only able to take a full breath once your entire body is safely tucked within the small space. It’s cozy, barely enough room for you to sit comfortably. You don’t even think it’s big enough to lay down if you wanted to.

Chatting and laughter continues from the front of the ship as you slowly pull the crate in front of you to conceal you better. It’s heavy as hell and you have to nudge it inch by inch so as to not make a screeching sound against the one below it.

Once you’re satisfied with the placement, you lean back against the cold metal wall behind you. Now that the exhaustion is beginning to seep into your bones, you can’t help but think that the feeling reminds you of sitting in the Razor Crest.

You don’t stop the tears that run down your cheeks now. You deserve to cry after the week you’ve had.

****

You realize much too late that you have no idea where this ship could be going, nor how long it’s going to take to get there. You have food and water in your bag, but you don’t know how you’re supposed to go about your other…needs.

Thankfully, it seems that the destination is close enough to only be in hyperspace for what you assume was about half the day. You’re half asleep when you feel the tell-tale jerk of the ship coming out of it. It startles you enough to wake up the rest of the way, and you silently scold yourself for letting your guard down for so long—though you can’t remember exactly when you last got some decent sleep.

The ship rattles as it cuts through the atmosphere of whatever planet it’s dropping this shit off at. The thought crossed your mind at one point that you could have possibly inhaled some of the spice lingering in the air.

How great would that be? Trying to plead guilty of whatever crime you supposedly committed and then failing a drug test. Really screams “I’m innocent!” You roll your eyes, tired of your brain making up scenarios to throw you through more hoops.

The ship stops rattling after a moment, and you can feel the glide as it lowers to the ground. The crates rattle once again as the ship plants itself. The walls of the craft creak and groan as a swaying starts, which is strange considering you’ve definitely landed.

The motion makes you sick to your stomach, but it’s almost a welcome distraction from the fact that you’re about to piss yourself. You need to find a way off of this death-trap before one of the runners discovers you.

You hear the gangplank starting to lower, and as it does, a gust of heavy rain pushes into the hull. A cold spray hits your face, making you flinch and cover yourself with your arm. From the sliver of scenery you can see, the sky appears to be dark, but not enough so for it to be night.

You’ve heard about places like this; planets that storm every day of the year and never see the sunlight. They’re usually only used for fishermen, junk yards, and spots for spice traders to meet up. Which absolutely makes sense at the moment.

You back into the cubby as much as you can, making yourself scarce as two men walk out of the ship and into the dreadful weather. They appear to be dressed for it, both of them wearing rubber boots and thick raincoats. You watch them until they’re out of sight, and then wait a few minutes before climbing back down to the floor.

You get low, bending enough to be concealed by the chests until you get to the opening of the ship. You let out a breath of relief upon seeing that there’s no threat anywhere near at the moment. You’re so sick of luck not being on your side. This is definitely a welcome change.

The rain is bone-chilling as you step out into it, immediately soaking you. It’s so thick that you can barely see in front of you. A couple buildings are within view every couple of seconds when there’s a break in the sheets of rain due to the heavy wind. With no other options, you decide to head that way.

As you trek through the unforgiving storm, you can’t help but compare the way the fat drops of water hit your face to being cut by shards of glass. Though even if you were being cut, you would never be able to tell with how fast the blood would be washed from your numb skin.

When you reach the closest building, you don’t waste a second before pushing the door open. The loud atmosphere of a cantina immediately welcomes you into its warmth. Despite the heat, you still shiver as you make your way through the main room and to the back. You rush into the bathroom and wait until a stall empties.

As you wait, you get a couple strange looks, but you’re too tired to do anything about it. You just want to pee and find some directions to get the hell out of this place.

****

When you get out of the restroom, you spot an empty stool wedged between a burly looking man with a beard and a plump woman who seems to have had one or a dozen too many. Every other spot is full, so you hop up and lean forward, trying to catch the bartender’s attention.

She works quickly, cleaning glasses in between serving replacements and taking orders. It takes a moment for her to come your way, but when she does, you have her full attention.

“What can I get you, hon?”

The bartender is a clean but busy looking woman with frizzy hair and a stained apron. You clock the kindness in her eyes immediately, and decide to put your trust in her. She looks like one of those women who would offer up a pad or tampon even if it was her last one.

“Hi, uh, I’m actually not looking for a drink,” you say, trying to keep the tremble out of your voice. You’re not sure if it’s there due to the cold, the exhaustion, or the anxiety. “Can you tell me–”

You stop talking when the woman purses her lips and shakes her head.

“Sorry, babe, I can’t hear you over this damn ruckus,” she gestures to the people around you, and then points to a corner where you assume the entrance to the bar is. “Meet me right there.” At least she can tell you’re not here to party.

You slide down from your stool and squeeze your way to where she pointed. She’s already there when you get there. She’s taken her apron off, which confuses you slightly.

“Hey, I–”

“Honey, you need to get out of here,” she cuts you off, hanging up her apron.

“What, why?” You ask through your stomach dropping. She flashes you a sympathetic look and you return a defeated one. You’re so fucking tired. How long are you going to have to put up with this shit?

“Bounty Hunter’s Guild just sent out a high stakes bounty warning. Picture looked just like you, babe.” She raises her eyebrows and gives you a pointed look.

You nod at her. Great, so not only do you have pucks out for any hunter that’s willing to find you, but every being in the galaxy has gotten an alert to look out for you.

“Yup, That would be me.”

“Mhm, figured. C’mon, let's get you out of this place. I’ve got somewhere you can stay until you can get off-world.” She exits from behind the bar and takes your hand, attempting to pull you with her.

You give her a wary look, confused as to why she’s helping you.

“How do I know you’re not turning me in?”

“Humor me for a second, just come outside at least. Please?” She stops and looks at you, a pleading look in her eyes.

You lick your lips but decide to follow her. It really doesn’t seem like she wishes you any harm, but you can’t be sure—you never would have thought Mando would, after all. Just outside, like she said. No further until she spills.

You allow her to pull you back the way you came, into the rain, and then down an alley next to the bar. There’s a flickering street lamp tucked under an awning between the two buildings, which the two of you huddle beneath.

“Look, I’m gonna make this quick,” the woman says before you have a chance to speak. She pauses and watches you intently. You nod at her, signaling for her to continue.

“I know how this bounty hunting shit is. My sister was hunted for a good while because she was seen outside the scene of a robbery. She was just a pedestrian, but she got taken in and questioned pretty thoroughly and then ended up spending a few nights in a cell. It’s fucked, to put it simply.”

“I don’t even know what I did,” you tell her, your voice cracking just slightly as you shake your head. She gives you that same sympathetic look from the bar.

“I know. I read the reasoning for your bounty. It was bantha-shit.”

“Great,” you say, pinching the bridge of your nose. You’re well aware that 90% of the population doesn’t care about that—all they’ll see is the pay for turning you in.

“There’s a place on the outside of the city, it’s been abandoned for a couple years. I’m pretty sure the heat and water are still connected, but nobody ever goes there. It’s an outdated complex. You okay with staying there for a bit?”

You nod at her, not knowing what else to say. Maybe a thank you? She’s talking again before you get the chance to do that though.

“Alright, you stay here for just a second,” she instructs before running back into the bar. You lean up against the building, listening to the rain as you let out a shuddering breath. The woman is only gone for a few seconds before she re-emerges with a piece of paper in her hand.

“These are the instructions to get there from here,” she says, grabbing your hand and shoving the paper into it. “I’m here if you need me, but please don’t try anything if you don’t have to.”

You look at her, and then the paper, studying the scratchy writing.

“Thank you, really,” you tell her. She just nods and releases your hand with a tight-lipped smile.

“Be safe, hon,” she says before ducking back into the bar.

The trek to the safe house is absolutely miserable. Everything on your body is soaked down, and the paper the woman gave you was starting to fall apart. You had to keep ducking under buildings and awnings to memorize what you could of the directions.

You’re glad you did, because by the time you reach the place, the paper is non-legible. The building itself is pretty isolated. It appears to have been apartments at one point, but is now just a tall junkyard. There’s piles upon piles of trash around it, but you suppose that only gives more of a reason for people to not go inside.

Unfortunately for you, you don’t exactly have a choice in the matter. You run up to the first door you see, and curse when you try to pull it open. It’s locked, of fucking course.

You walk around to the side of the building until you see a window that’s not boarded up. Your palms slip against it as you try to get some leverage to push it up, but with some persistence, it comes loose. You almost fall when it springs up, but at least it’s towards the room inside.

You glance behind you one more time before pushing yourself in. You close the window behind you and take a deep breath as the deafening storm is somewhat quitened. It’s cold in the room you find yourself in, but it’s far better than being out in that shit.

Looking around, you spot a stove surrounded by counter space, hanging cabinets, and a small, round table accompanied by four outdated chairs. Definitely a kitchen. There’s what appears to be a hall to your right. You walk toward it, trying to hold back your shivering.

It’s not super long, but you notice how eerily quiet it is as you walk though. On the other side, there’s a room with a bed and a couch. There are three doors, which you can only assume lead to a bathroom, a closet, and the main hall of the building.

You open the first door, which goes out into the hall. It sends a gust of even colder air into the room, making your teeth chatter as it envelops your wet body. You look left and right, and then reluctantly step into the freezing hallway. It’s dark as shit, but the occasional uncovered window allows enough—albeit dim—lighting to lead you toward the stairwell.

There’s a sign tacked on the wall there, and you sigh with relief as you spot the directions to the maintenance room. That must be where you can flip the heat on. It’s not far, just down the first staircase and down the hall a little. Without the windows, the room is even darker than the rest of the building.

You mutter a curse under your breath, figuring that your best bet is going to be blindly running your hands around the walls until you find a switch. You put your hands out and start to glide them slowly left to right, and then up and down until you find an abnormality in the wall.

You shudder, trying to ignore the cobwebs that have accumulated on the panel which are now sticking to your hands. As long as they’re not spiders, it’s okay. You hesitantly flip the first one, and then the second. Nothing happens in your area, but you swear you hear a click come from one of the floors above you.

In quick succession, you flip the rest of the switches, and a light finally comes above you once you reach the second to last one. You huff out a breathy laugh at your luck. Now that you aren’t in total darkness, you can clearly see the other panels around you, along with their labels.

You flip the switch for water, and then another for heat. A low humming starts above you as you do so, indicating that at least the latter is working.

A piping hot shower and half a ration bar later, you’re laying on top of a bed under a heater, still trying to warm up. You feel the most relaxed you have since you found your bounty puck, although it still isn’t enough to fall asleep without keeping an eye open. Eventually, though, the humming from the heating system lulls you enough to fall into a half-sleep.

****

You spend three days on what you’ve learned is Attera Bravo before you run out of luck. Word of a Mandalorian bounty hunter is quickly spread, and you catch wind of such as you pay a visit to town for more rations. The panic which had ebbed away after the last few days is suddenly back in full force.

You really thought you would have a second to catch your breath, but you’re quickly learning that there is no such thing when there’s a price on your head. While you’re in town, you pick up a few rations on the outskirts, and that’s it. You had wanted to find a rain jacket on your trip, but you decide not to risk being in town for too long.

So you begin to make the trip back to the safe house without a cover from the cold, biting rain. It sucks ass, but it’s better than carbonite. Even though you’re on the outskirts, you still hug the sides of buildings as you make your exit. Your head keeps snapping towards the slightest movements; a flickering street lamp, a closing door, a flash of far away lightning.

You break off into a sprint as soon as you’re a few feet away from the cover of the nearest building. You don’t look back as you push yourself, not wanting to risk slowing down. All you can see is the terrifying image of Mando catching up with you like he did on Nevarro.

You glance at the spaceport as you run past, seeing if you can get a glimpse of the Razor Crest. You don’t see it, but that’s probably for the best. There’s no mistaking that the Mandalorian bounty hunter the town’s people are talking about is your Mandalorian bounty hunter, but seeing the Crest would probably crack something within you. That would mean that the kid is likely with him, and you can’t afford to think about him right now.

You can hear your heavy breaths over the sound of the rain, and you choose to focus on that instead of the icy chill. You try to take breaths in through your nose to calm yourself, but you just get a nose full of water, so you scratch that and continue your panicked breaths through your mouth.

Breath in, breath out, breath in, breath out, breath in–

Your breath hitches. There’s a buzz coming from behind you, steadily growing louder. You spare a glance over your shoulder, and you can just make out the headlights of what looks to be a speeder bike. The pathetic “no” that leaves your mouth would be extremely embarrassing if anyone were around to hear it.

You try to pick up your pace, but almost trip with your effort. The bike is getting closer, you don’t have to look again to know. There’s no way you’re going to outrun it. You have an idea, but it’s going to be risky. You grit your teeth, thinking it over, and decide that the risk is better than definitely getting caught.

You stop suddenly, just for a second, until the bike is almost to you. Then you turn around, seeing Mando atop it, only a bit away. He didn’t anticipate your stop, and doesn’t register the fact that he needs to slow down until you’re running past him and back toward town.

You don’t get much of a head start, but luckily the space port is still close enough that it’s not absolutely necessary. As soon as you’re close enough, you dive around a crate to get out of the way of the speeder. Mando arrives right behind you, quick to hop off it and start on foot after you.

You make your way to where you remember the ship you came on had landed. The last time you passed here, you remember seeing the gangplank open. Either they make routine stops, or they’re here for a while. Either way, it means that your escape will be aided by the same ship that helped you the first time.

By some incredible luck, it’s still there. There’s a group of relatively shady people gathered a few yards away from it, standing under a wing of another ship, but you’re getting used to dealing with shady things at this point. You run past them, not intending to stop until you’re alone without the threat of Mando.

Without stopping to turn around or even check if there are people in the ship, you run up the plank, slamming your palm over the button to close it behind you. You hear a couple panicked “Hey”s from behind you, which you can only assume is the protests of the guys who own this ship. You run into the cockpit, which is thankfully empty.

You start to flick switches and pull knobs, everything you can try to get this thing off the ground in the fastest amount of time. If you learned anything on the Crest, it’s how to work a ship’s panel. You hear pangs coming from the closing door, and look out the window to see that half of the group from earlier has run off, and are likely the source of the sound.

You looked out just in time to see your Mandalorian coming to a stop in front of the other half of the group, who are blocking him from getting further toward you. You huff out a tiny laugh. Take that, asshole. The ship starts to ascend just as Mando throws his first punch.

****

Once you’re back into space, your heart gets the memo that it can stop working overtime. You decide you’ll just cruise for a bit while you figure out where the best place to go would be—assuming Mando will be occupied with his opponents below for a moment. It needs to be somewhere pretty isolated and unknown for the most part, but also not painfully obvious.

You consider going back to Jakku for a moment, but scratch that idea quickly. You would for sure be turned in by someone there. And besides, Mando would look there eventually.

You sigh and lean back in the outdated pilot’s seat, staring at the stars around you. You hadn’t realized how much you missed this view. It’s quiet and peaceful, and it almost makes you forget everything you’re dealing with right now. A lump catches in your throat at that thought.

You really don’t understand how you’re going to get through this. You don’t want to spend the rest of your life running; that’s no life at all. To be in constant fear of being caught, never being able to settle down, never able to make connections. It genuinely makes you sick to your stomach.

You lean back and put one hand over your eyes as you try to think about what your next step is. It also needs to be somewhere where you can get more supplies. You need more clothes since all yours have been pretty weathered by the constant rain. You’re also going to need money at some point.

How are you going to do that? Something tells you that you won’t be able to just snag a job along the way. You sit forward in your seat again, shaking your head. The air con on the ship has kicked on, hitting your drenched body and making your teeth chatter as you pull up the navigation system to browse nearby planets.

You’re only pressing the first button when the ship suddenly jolts, a crashing sound coming from the back. It scares the shit out of you, your hand clutching tightly to your chest as you spring up out of your seat and look behind you.

An alarm sounds, frightening you more as you realize that you’ve just been hit. The impact didn’t seem like enough to do a lot of damage, but you have no idea how to work the cannons on this thing—if there are any cannons at all. Judging by the looks of this thing, if it is equipped with a weapons system, it’s likely out of date and of no use to you.

You speed up and grab the steering to quickly turn to the right, trying to get out from in front of the offending ship. Maybe if you can get behind them and far enough away, you’ll be able to get into hyperspace. It seems that your best bet is going to be running. You’re sensing a bit of a pattern at this point.

You grit your teeth as the ship tilts slightly with the momentum of your turn. A couple of left over bins in the hull spill over, making you wince at the crashing sounds. There’s suddenly a sweet smell, and you close your eyes briefly as you pray that there wasn’t any spice in those crates.

It was only for a split second, but when your eyes open, you’re face to face with another small craft. You swerve again to keep out of its way. As you do so, another pops up in your path, and then another, each of them coming out of hyperspace in quick succession.

Your heartbeat picks up with your panic as you realize you’re surrounded. You can’t see behind you, and there’s no way to go forward. There’s got to be at least five or six of them, and they’re probably carrying between at least four to eight people a piece. They could take you out right now if they wanted.

Gulping down your anxiety, you do the most rational thing you can think of in the moment, and reluctantly slow down to a gentle drift. As the ships come in closer with your surrender, you think ahead. If they take you onto one of their ships, you might be able to—

Your train of thought is stopped as you get an alert of an incoming transmission on the dash. You breathe out a shaky breath and press the button to accept it.

A holo-image of an extremely pissed looking Weequay sprouts from the com. You stand tall and put on a brave face. He stares at you, his eyes narrowing. You gulp, hoping it goes unnoticed. There’s a sour taste in your mouth, and a sick feeling in your stomach. You don’t know if you’re getting out of this one.

To make matters worse, the spice that had spilled with your turn is starting to creep up to the cockpit in a thick fog. The rusty-orange looking powder floats higher with every second, the effects quickly making you dizzy.

“Okay, girl,” the rugged looking creature drawls with a weird accent you can’t quite place. “I personally was having a good day today, and I think you should know that, first of all.”

You furrow your brow but don’t interrupt. The creature starts to pace slightly as he speaks in a casual tone.

“Everything was going great, I was making good sales, had deals going for that spice you have in my ship—which I’m sure you’ve discovered at this point. I was just about to have my guys deal with it—and then I got the call that some bitch stole my ship containing the goods. Would you know anything about that, sweetheart?”

You wince lightly at the insulting pet name, a stark difference from the way Mando used to say it. The dust around you is starting to pick up to the point where your eyes are stinging. You wish you could think of something to say back, but all you can focus on is the bile crawling up your throat.

“Hm, I think you would,” he stops to say flatly. “Now, my initial plan had been to force you off my ship and maybe take you out to have a little fun! Told my guys they deserve to have a little treat on me after their hard work the last few days. We’d just need you for a little bit, I’m sure these guys don’t have much stamina if you know what I mean…”

The man continues talking, but you’ve frozen in place. Your stomach twists at his threats, and you suddenly feel the need to throw up. The spice growing thicker around you is definitely not helping that factor.

“...would have been such a good time,” you zone back into the man’s vulgar words. Letting your gaze drift back to him from where it had fallen to the floor. You find yourself wishing for Mando, for the safety you felt as you laid so briefly within his comforting arms. You want to punch yourself for thinking that.

The pirate, obviously annoyed with your lack of response, continues rambling about this inconvenience, but you can hardly hear him through the ringing growing louder in your ears. The truth that you’re finally trapped is just catching up to you.

“Anyways, when I found your bounty poster, I thought just for a second that it must be your lucky day! But then, I figured that whoever wants you probably doesn’t give a shit about what kind of condition you’re in.”

He laughs at the increasingly panicked look on your face.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart! We won’t go too hard on you now. As long as you cooperate, of course. Just be good for us and we’ll send you to Nevarro without so much as a—”

There’s another crash from behind you, but this time it’s not your ship taking the damage. The man in front of you swivels around, straining to see the source of the sound. His eyes widen, and so do yours when you see the fear in his eyes. You take a step back.

“What the—”

The pirate is cut off again as his ship abruptly explodes right in front of you. His holo-image glitches out as you scream, falling back into your seat. Your ship is knocked back slightly at the same time you feel two other crafts quickly flying by you, chasing the shadow of the one you see above you.

Two ships emerge from either side of you, and your heart skips a beat once you catch a glimpse of the one they’re chasing. You know that ship. Two of the smaller crafts race after the Razor Crest as it trails them away from you.

That doesn’t mean you’re surrendering to anybody today. Not one to look a gift horse in the mouth, you scramble to push the thrusters, planning to get as far away from here as you can. The two ships that aren’t tailing the Crest suddenly change direction to follow you instead. Shit.

You continue forward at full speed, making quick turns and dodges to throw off the idiots behind you. Unfortunately, it’s not working in your favor. You feel your ship jolt as a blast lands on the surface of it. You hear the sound of something powering down.

Your craft slows to about half its speed, making you cry out in frustration. Out of the corner of your eye, you see the Crest take out one of the ships that had been pursuing it. Another hit comes to your ship, and this time the hit is so great that you jolt forward and almost hit your head on the dash.

Another one immediately follows, and this time you do slip out of your chair and smack your head on the edge of the panel. Your vision blacks for a second, and you know it has to be at least a small concussion. A ringing starts back in your ears again as your vision blurs slightly. A big flash blinds you momentarily as—at least you assume—Mando takes out the other craft on his trail in front of your ship.

For a second, nothing makes sense. There’s another blow to the side of your craft, and then one more, one right after the other. You get rocked back and forth forcefully, only making you more confused. There’s too much going on at once for you to process; time’s moving too slowly and the spice is making you hazy and the alarm’s too loud and there’s another big crash and muffled explosion as another ship is annihilated.

You scramble, trying to stay up straight as you use your chair to push yourself up. You need to find a way to get out of here before you’re left alone with Mando. Does the hyperspace still work on this thing? Too bad you won’t find out, because as you reach for the dash, you get sent forward and smack your head again. This time, everything goes black.

***** Thank you for reading!! I'm going to try to have another part out in a few weeks!! I'm also making a taglist for this series if anyone would like to join.

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deadcactuswalking · 11 months ago

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REVIEWING THE CHARTS: 20/01/2024 (Ariana Grande, 21 Savage's american dream, D-Block Europe)

The story of this week is… well, there are a lot of stories, and the moral of nearly all of them is: don’t get your hopes up. Noah Kahan’s “Stick Season” has halted a certain someone off the top spot, and welcome back to REVIEWING THE CHARTS!

Rundown

As always, we swiftly ignore you-know who and instead spend a little time on the notable dropouts, songs exiting the UK Top 75, which is what I cover (read the FAQ), after five weeks in the region or a peak in the top 40. As one would expect, there’s quite a lot of movement this week so we do have a hefty list, bidding farewell to… “Just Another Rainbow” by Liam Gallagher and John Squire after just one week at #16, “Entrapreneur” by Central Cee, “You’re Losing Me” (From the Vault) by Taylor Swift getting three-song-ruled out and exchanged for another Taylor song, and then “Standing Next to You” by Jung Kook, “Murdaside” by Mazza_l20 and friends, “First Person Shooter” by Drake featuring J. Cole, “adore u” by Fred again.. and Obongjayar, “Daylight” by David Kushner, “Flowers” by Miley Cyrus and the Selena Gomez-assisted “Calm Down” by Rema. Yeah, some massive losses this week, it really is ushering in the 2024 hit parade this quickly

As for our notable gains, well, we see a return for “Anti-Hero” by Taylor Swift at #69 due to the swap I talked about earlier - it really isn’t a good trade-off in my opinion. Aside from that, there are boosts for “Black Friday” by Tom Odell at #31 which I can’t complain about, and same goes for “Never Lose Me” by Flo Milli at #24. I will complain about “Unwritten” by Natasha Bedingfield at #18, but that brings us neatly to our top five, where we have Teddy Swims fly in at #5 with “Lose Control”, followed by familiar faces, “Lovin’ on Me” by Jack Harlow at #4 and “Murder on the Dancefloor” by Sophie Ellis-Bextor at #3, and then, despite multiple versions and a music video, Noah Kahan fended off Ariana Grande’s comeback single “yes, and?”, stalling out narrowly at #2. It’s fully the season of the sticks, and also the season of 11 Goddamn song reviews, some of which were expected and don’t give me much to say, or much that I want to say, and some that just came out of thin air. I guess let’s just get this party started.

New Entries

#73 - “Scared to Start” - Michael Marcagi

Produced by David Baron

This episode is brought to you by our sponsor, Who the Hell is This Guy? So, Mr. Marcagi started out as the lead singer for non-starter indie rock band The Heavy Hours, before the release of two very recent and very obviously trend-chasing solo singer-songwriter singles. This is the second of them, and seems to have been his breakout and yeah, I suppose we have Noah Kahan at home. The song is overall about a youthful relationship that gets them into undetailed recklessness and escapism, particularly getting away from a small boring town into being on-the-road nomads, without much care for where the future actually takes them. I like the heartland rock pianos and the tried-and-true drop into half-time for the second chorus, though by the time he does it again in the final chorus, I mostly wish he just picked up the pace as the momentum needs to accelerate from there if it’s such a carpe diem track, it feels like a missed opportunity to really go hard at the final hustle, like Kahan would do. As a whole, it’s really not that difficult to see why this is here or even why people could love it, but I feel like it needed more refining to truly make it worthwhile.

#63 - “Praise Jah in the Moonlight” - YG Marley

Produced by Lauryn Hill, YG Marley and JohnnyG

When I say everything will chart in January, I mean everything. This is one of Bob Marley’s many grandchildren, and yes, that is the Lauryn Hill you’re thinking of. She married into the Marleys, this is her son, she co-produced and co-wrote the song, which additionally samples the original Marley’s “Crisis”, a 1978 track with the Wailers, an uplifiting song about living it up through crisis, staying aware of tragedy but taking time to yourself to allow for fun to be had, peace to be found. I like the song a lot, but it was an album track and hence never charted until it was sampled on this newer song from late last year, which - this is not the first time this week we’ll see this either - turns the otherwise conscious track into a love ballad, but sonically, it’s incredibly faithful, even down to the liquidy reggae groove and charming background singers. Sadly, YG does not have the presence of his grandfather, sounding mostly like a nervous, Auto-Tuned child stumbling onto the school talent show, but that’s also partly due to the mix crushing his nasal croon a bit, it feels smashed in between different elements of the mix instead of resting carefreely in it like Bob would. I do actually appreciate the shift in content for the second verse, which I can only assume was written by Ms. Lauryn Hill considering its cynical, conscious stabs at soul-taking and standing your ground. In fact, I actually like this song quite a lot - whilst it starts off as a love ballad, it ends up using more of an appreciative worship angle that fits much better with the lax, improvisational performance, especially once Lauryn comes in for the outro, it’s just nice to hear her singing again, to be honest. The guitars are also surprisingly sludgy by the end, it feels, fitting the mix’s general vibe, which makes it feel a tad sinister or at least defiant, which makes the sample flip - or really, recreation - a lot more sensible. So, yeah, I think this turns around to actually being quite good, if not great? I guess you can’t go wrong when you just plod in that classic Bob Marley tune as a loop for so long and get Lauryn Hill to do backup, I mean, it really does not seem like you can go wrong placing those two together on a track, albeit posthumously. I know it’s never coming but part of me wants to at least hope this may mean we get, if not a solo album, a wider array of collaborations from Lauryn Hill in the future.

#61 - “No Man’s Land” - Marshmello and venbee

Produced by Marshmello, Digital Farm Animals and Earwulf

To be completely honest, I thought Marshmello’s time in the Sun was over. He’s been latching onto Fuerza Regida and Latin music overall Stateside, so I figured his hit-making days could be far behind him, yet here he is without a reggaetónero or corrida band, and instead venbee, who has yet to really replicate the success of “messy in heaven”, but maybe this will be a winning combination and not another desperate last-minute attempt by Marshmello to find a final niche before the spark dies completely. Surely by now, you know where this is going. Mr. Mello even got Digital Farm Animals to co-write and produce so there really is a distant scent of imminent failure written into this one. That’s not to say the song isn’t good because, well, despite all my cynicism, it’s a damn good track, I actually really love this one. It has all the 2018 plastic tropical flavour but due to going for a faster-paced drum and bass rolick and surprisingly compressed and gross-sounding mix on venbee’s vocals, it doesn’t have any of the effortless sheen and instead sounds a bit rough around the edges, with even the little intricate details in that second verse sounding a bit out of place. That lines up pretty perfectly with venbee’s self-loathing that she feels has buried her into an isolation that she can’t really handle considering how much she hates that cycle. Now I don’t think this’ll be a hit: it sounds like something that could be a sleeper success, but by the time it would get much traction, the song is rather too depressive to be dropped into a Summer EDM mix, and honestly, we have no track record for venbee in terms of any consistent success, and it’s not like Marshmello is a pull anymore. So whilst I actually think this is brilliant, I would have to say to Marshmello: Maybe don’t get your hopes up.

#59 - “J CHRIST” - Lil Nas X

Produced by Omer Fedi, Gesaffelstein and Lil Nas X

“The biggest comeback” since Jesus and he couldn’t even break top 50? In this chart climate? In this economy? I did see a lot of social media disillusionment with Lil Nas’ religious angle, none of which I agreed with because really, it’s only his second time doing so and who decided that artists suddenly couldn’t use themes in their music? Yet that may explain the lack of success out of the gate for… “J CHRIST” - God, what a terrible song title - and I can’t say it’s unfortunate, this song is terrible, and not in an honest-sounding way either. LNX has never sounded more bored and typical, going for a vocal take that doesn’t even fully sound like him, as if he was pitched up in post, and the lyrics seem absolutely unfinished if not unchanged from a mumbling reference track. Even the catchy hook is pretty gimmicky with the “high note”, and the second verse just repeats itself sloppily over this piano-based trap beat, that doesn’t really go anywhere at all. In fact, if left on its own, one could consider this a bit of a feat: gawk in awe at Lil Nas X trying and failing to inject life into an amateur YouTube remake of “HUMBLE.” made by a guy with 12 subscribers! Yet due to the promising, alien outro from Gesaffelstein, we know that more effort could have been put into this to make it much more unique and refreshing, and his springy synth bounce lingers throughout the rest of the track, especially that pre-chorus, as a tease for something to come, which would be promising if that “something to come” wasn’t the absolute lowest barrier of entry for decent music: being interesting. Again, don’t get your hopes up.

#46 - “Alibi” - Ella Henderson featuring Rudimental

Produced by Aidan Glover, Cliff Masterson, Rudimental and Punctual

It is with the deepest of sighs that I say the late Coolio’s iconic Dangerous Minds soundtrack cut “Gangsta’s Paradise”, that has long outlasted its film companion, debuted at #1 upon release in 1995 and stayed there for two weeks total, and has returned intermittently to the UK Singles Chart since 2009 due to just how great of a song it is, a timeless Stevie Wonder flip with L.V. on the chorus and some of the most harrowing yet accessible conscious verses that have ever appeared on a chart hit. Ella Henderson, we are not doing this. Why Rudimental decided to credit themselves onto this… thing they barely produced is beyond me, because this is a worthless parody of the original, a dead-on-arrival concept with little respect for its source material… but that makes it sound cool, doesn’t it? It makes it sound risky, like it’s trying new things, when in reality, that’s far from the case. Ms. Henderson copies inflections and melodies directly from L.V., who already took them from Stevie, and replaces the lyrics with meaningless relationship platitudes. The beat is stock drum and bass, the main lead sample is from the most famous and memed part of the song. This kind of song makes me question whether I can even consider it art at all because what human aspect could have possibly been involved in this? Ella’s singing, sure, but not only are the vocals touched-up in post, it’s not like she or her choir care all too much about emoting these lyrics, and they really shouldn’t. Sure, a human - or several, according to the credits - programmed this song, but would you really be surprised if it was done algorithmically based on a TikTok search of the original song? I love sampling, it’s possibly the most interesting thing about popular music past the 1990s, but some reinventions are little more than fleeting insults at artists not alive to repel them. The man rejected Weird Al’s parody and even after he’d lightened up about that, I have serious doubt he would sign off on this garbage. May he rest in peace - I personally really love his other single “Fantastic Voyage”, maybe even more than “Gangsta’s Paradise”, and I’ll always remember his voice performance as the Kwanzaabot in Futurama. This? I’m trying not to remember it. Hopefully the UK can realise this for its cheap distasteful novelty and leave it buried in the dregs of Spotify where it belongs.

#42 - “Heather on the Hill” - Nathan Evans

Produced by Alan Jukes and Stevie Jukes

I’m… genuinely surprised Nathan Evans is still popping up, especially with a song like this. The title may be referring to the song of the same name in the 1947 musical Brigadoon, set in the Scottish Highlands, perhaps most well known in its version by Grace Kelly. Now that is a beautiful composition with a surprisingly frail performance in the verses that really gives a lot of lackadaisical charm to the track, even if I’ve never even heard of the musical before. This track by everyone’s favourite sea-shantier has nothing to do with that song. The traditional Scottish folk strings may interpolate the original slightly but this is a pop song through and through, with Lewis Capaldi-esque vocal and guitar production, it’s all compressed and staccato and aimless but at least you can tell Evans is Scottish given all the references which would seem tacky if there weren’t just so many of them, and Hell, I’m not Scottish, I can’t judge how a Scotsman expresses his Scottishness. There is a great dramatic charm in the absolute joyfulness this seems to at least want to display, especially with the Scottish folk chaos in the back of the mix and Evans just giving it all he can. In fact, I kind of love this: it’s an adorable love song that ends very abruptly for no good reason, is littered with little Scottish lyrical details, and whilst it doesn’t hit the same as the song from the musical, it’s going for an entirely different vibe: one of folkish lovestruckness and awe, admiration. This feels like a first crush, if my first crush was from Orkney. She wasn’t, of course, but I can dream; both songs I discovered from this entry I appreciate in largely different ways but are pretty admirable all the same.

#27 - “n.h.i.e.” - 21 Savage and Doja Cat

Produced by Kurtis McKenzie, Scribz Riley, Jonah and Nineteen85

Okay, so 21 Savage released a new album, american dream, last Friday, and it debuts at #2 on the UK albums chart, with three new songs debuting here because the entire album was new material, and quite frankly, next to none of it fit the concept of the album, and that includes pretty much everything we have here. It’s really frustrating when ambition, especially conceptual ambition, seems to be promised and whilst the product itself is completely fine, serviceable and in the case of this 21 album, frankly quite good, it does not abide by the ideas that were presented in, say, the introduction, the soundtrack connection, how 21’s mother appears on both the opener and closer to speak frankly about her experiences and how they relate to her son’s, especially in regards to travelling from London to the US. Given that 21’s finally gained US residency and this seemed like his way of commemorating his escape from the confusing citizenship debacle, wherein he can be proud of both his British and American heritage, I was quite disappointed when it was 90% a typical rap album with soul samples, trap beats, flexing on haters, having sex with women, killing people in comical detail and even having a second half largely consisting of R&B just for the ladies, I suppose. With all that, like I said, I enjoyed the album! 21 is a lyrically and vocally quite fun presence nowadays, and the production was incredibly cohesive in its sound despite trying out some different rhythms and vibes throughout. It is, by all means, a good 21 Savage album, but if you’re hoping for more than that, again, don’t get your hopes up. As for the tracks that debuted, they are by far the least interesting and actually some of my least favourites. This one has an eerie guitar lick but also Doja Cat all over the track just whispering and distractingly so, with 21 kind of on autopilot, even if his short verse is pretty good. Doja is doing the whole quirked-up not-a-rapper schtick with the “ad-lib!” ad-lib and basic flow accentuated by again, those multi-tracked whispers and outright refusal to write a verse of considerable length. It’s just lazy on mostly her part but pretty much everyone else as well, there’s little to care for here.

#23 - “née-nah” - 21 Savage, Travis Scott and Metro Boomin

Produced by Metro Boomin

Why is the song called that? Anyway, this is my least favourite track easily. You have a straight minute of Travis wasting my time - without the Auto-Tune, without the spacey production, without the atmospheric concepts and ambition, who even IS this guy, really, other than an unconvincing cornball who never decides on a solid flow and fills up time with ad-libs, including some weird Westside Gunn riffing this time around? Also, considering how much time he’s spent with Kanye, I’m getting slightly worried to who this villainous “they” he’s referring to in this verse all the time might actually be, he’s been oddly defensive and conspiratory since UTOPIA at least. This is a completely serviceable Metro beat, though it actually gets kind of hard on the ears midway through due to that shrill sample that doesn’t really have much to blend with when the chopped, vintage sample isn’t present. It’s a shame that the rest of the track is pretty much garbage because 21 delivers some of his most violently funny and out-of-pocket verses on this whole album, with a cold-as-Hell chorus and lines about Virgil Abloh and Usher that hit pretty hard as punchlines. Again, a shame it’s all placed here on what was for everyone else, a throwaway track.

#19 - “Eagle” - D-Block Europe and Noizy

Produced by Da Beatfreakz

DBE sold like 10 million USB sticks or something, their album is #1 yet here’s their sole track in the top 75. Now this is the kind of so-bad-it’s-enjoyable DBE I like to hear, with Beatfreakz on production, an unusually long, minimal intro, an array of deranged ad-libs, terrible Auto-Tune, Young Adz stammering helplessly and not understanding how disparate some of the consecutive lyrics are from each other. He barely sticks to a coherent flow and starts the chorus with declaring that he thinks he’s Albanian, but he doesn’t enunciate so it sounds like he just calls himself the country of Albania. We even have Dirtbike Lb going for a verse that completely washes whatever Youthful Advertisement was doing, he actually kind of kills his verse, it’s impressive. The flow switch is much clearer and well-done than whatever Adz tries his hand at, his slurring and naturally slow, droning delivery is used to its best extent here. Oh, and like half the song belongs to this one extended verse from an actual Albanian rapper, Noizy, who goes in… I think? He says near the end, “I’m Albanian, you’re not supposed to like me” and I really don’t know what to make of that, or this song in general, it’s kind of a fascinating mess with some genuine flow highlights but mostly just bizarre choices. In that regard, classic DBE.

#11 - “redrum” - 21 Savage

Produced by London on da Track and Peeb

My favourite track from this album is “see the real”, a sassy, witty and dismissive hyphy-esque bop that inflects a lot of melody into 21’s sound but not enough to dissuade you from his cold demeanour. Some of my other favourite tracks include the sincere PSA “dark days”, the needlessly catchy R&B track “should’ve wore a bonnet” and yeah, “redrum” has none of what I just described. It’s pure violence, it got the music video set in London, so here it is, with its Italian classical music sample in the intro that just eventually forms into a menacing, unchanging loop. It sounds great, but with the caveat that it also just sounds like that the whole time. If 21 weren’t generally an incredibly compelling and more importantly convincing presence as a killer on the mic, this would be a pretty unimpressive beat, so it really shows how much better an instrumental can sound when the right pocket’s found, and for 21, who is on his A-game punchline and ad-lib wise on this track, it seems almost effortless. I’ve obviously not got much else to say about this song or the album as a whole, but I do think it’s a shame that its most unique and enlightening moments didn’t make their way to the charts, or that they were so few and far between to begin with. Hey, at least we didn’t get any shreds of that terrible Kid Cudi project, right? Sheesh.

#2 - “yes, and?” - Ariana Grande

Produced by Ariana Grande, Max Martin and ILYA

It’s fine. I know it’s the big story of the week but there’s nothing too celebratory, triumphant, badass or even interesting about this comeback single from Ariana, that clearly goes for an attitude it couldn’t fully commit to, given the cheaper-than-usual sounding vocaloid chop behind the diva house pianos and a cooing that sems to miss the point of its own genre. Lyrically, it’s self-motivation but I mean, we have “BREAK MY SOUL”, and the genuinely experimental and explorative RENAISSANCE from just two years ago, we really don’t need a lacklustre Ariana Grande rendition of this genre, especially when she’s completely phoning it in. She’s not someone who’s meant to chant mantras, that’s not the kind of loose, parading singer she is, it’s why she never worked on trap beats. The spoken word bridge is pitched-up - because sure, Ariana needs pitching up of all singers - and practically egregious: going for the censor during the Ethan Slater-related line is exactly the “serve” it was intended to be, given that it’s the one time the song actually feels like it exists, but it also just drills this hole further that Ari cannot sell this at all, and should absolutely not be trying to when the audience, even if invested in the “I’m fucking the SpongeBob guy” drama, cannot find themselves motivated by because, well, last time I checked, the only other person fucking the SpongeBob guy was the mother of his child. If someone can point me to the passion and empowerment in this song and its seven other versions instead of a lingering tinge of desperate acting-out, please do, because every listen just leaves an even sourer note in my mouth. Ugh, let’s move on.

Conclusion

I actually did not dislike “yes, and?” before writing this episode, but several listens and caring to look at the lyrics more have really prevented me from enjoying it the way I wanted to so, yes, it will get the Dishonourable Mention, with the Worst of the Week being so obvious I really don’t have to say it, do I? Best of the Week goes to Marshmello and venbee for “No Man’s Land” with an Honourable Mention to Nathan Evans of all people with “Heather on the Hill” and I suppose that’s it. It was a bit of a long ordeal this week, but thank you for reading, see you… a bit earlier than next Friday, I think, but still, next week.

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wasted-and-ready · 1 year ago

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If You're Going Through Hell Chapter 5

Leo flipped over the top of the wall and drew his swords, moving to protect the spot where his brothers' grappling hooks were anchored.

Further along the wall, another pair of guards was running towards Leo. And now Raph could hear shouting from below as well. He glanced down to see guards gathering on the ground beneath them, pointing up and yelling in a language he didn't understand. Arrows began to fly through the air. One narrowly missed Raph's shoulder and bounced off the stone wall. Next to him, Mikey pulled out one nunchuck and swatted at the projectiles.

#fanfic #TNMT #tnmt 2012 #tnmt leonardo #tnmt michelangelo #tnmt raphael #2012 leo #2012 rap #2012 mikey #teenage mutant ninja turtles #whump #gen #action/adventure

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esctrl · 2 years ago

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S C A N N I N G….

L O A D I N G I N F O R M A T I O N..…. Senya Kane, ( 28 ), confirmed. Our records indicate that you now have the ability to replicate powers and would like to work as an assistant trainer. your chip identification tone will be set to happier than ever by billie eilish. welcome to the hub.

BASICS

FULL NAME: visenya jade kane

NICKNAME(S): senya, sen

BIRTHDATE + AGE: june 15th, 2000 + 28

GENDER: female

PRONOUNS: she / her

ORIENTATION: pansexual / panromantic

SPECIES: changed

OCCUPATION: assistant trainer

BIRTHPLACE: arizona, nevada

FAMILY: aiden kane — twin brother ( the hub ); raina kane — mother ( deceased ); don kane — father ( whereabouts unkown )

LANGUAGES: english, russian, spanish

APPEARANCE

FACE CLAIM: florence pugh

EYE COLOR: green

HAIR: blonde

HEIGHT: 5′4″

TATTOOS: whenever senya acquires a new ability she gets a small tattoo representing it ( there are a lot )

SCARS / BIRTH MARKS: lots of scars

PERSONALITY

ZODIAC: gemini

MBTI: estp / esfp

ENNEGRAM: 7w8

ALIGNMENT: chaotic neutral

TEMPERAMENT: sanguine

ARCHETYPE: entrepreneur

ELEMENT: fire

TRAITS: assertive, sarcastic, opinionated

ASSOCIATED CHARACTERS: peppa madrigal ( encanto ), malia tate / hale ( teen wolf ), yang xiao long ( rwby ), max mayfield ( stranger things ), rhanerya targaryen ( house of the dragon )

AESTHETIC: chipped nail polish, iced coffee, deflective sarcastic humor, ripped jeans, baggy crop tops, swears like a sailor, punch now - ask questions later, beg forgiveness > ask permission

BIOGRAPHY

tw: shitty fathers, bigotry, violence, death

senya's father don was a very bigoted man who seemed to be anti-everything so of course after the cataclysm of 2023, he became very bigoted against changed people. their mother was skeptical but also far more accepting. when aiden's power of pyrokinesis manifested after a heated argument with their dad, their mom was the one who convinced don not to try and kill aiden on the spot. however, don took to berating, antagonizing, or ignoring, aiden and acted similarly toward senya when she stood up for him or took his side.

at some point during a fight between aiden and their dad, senya touched aiden's hand as his fists became engulfed in flames but she didn't get burned. the interaction was enough to stop the fight temporarily as no one was quite sure what to make of it. but of course within days the two were at it again. this time senya got dragged into it, making her angry.

according to aiden, flames appeared in her eyes and then shot from her hands, narrowly missing her father. enraged, her father lunged but her mother intervened. their father shoved their mother out of the way and came at senya full force. aiden stepped in front of her.

no one knows for sure how exactly the twins' mother died from this ordeal. their father claims one if not both of them killed her while the twins are adamant that their mother fatally hit her head when their father shoved her. the end result was that the only thing keeping their father from trying to kill them was gone. fearing for their lives, the twins ran, and they kept running until they found the hub.

FUN FACTS

raina took senya and aiden to get all of their vaccines growing up in secret because don was against them. the twins also got the 2M2X3I in secret for this reason.

took kickboxing and ballet from a young age.

she was a public relations major in college.

she has 13 piercings in each ear because her father once told her if she pierced any other body part he would rip it out. she's sure he would kill her if he saw her tattoos.

in order for senya to gain a power she just has to touch the person who has it. one of the only powers she hasn't been able to add to her collection is pain immunity because her boss ramona won't let her. senya is not quite sure how ramona is able to keep her from obtaining the ability since a person's willingness to pass their power doesn't affect her ability to obtain it.

her first acquired power was pyrokinesis. she didn't realize she had power replication, she thought she'd just developed the same ability her brother had. she didn't find out she had power replication until she reached the hub.

she has found that there are certain powers she can't seem to use in their entirety. for example: when it comes to shapeshifting the most she can do is change her hair ( color and length ). when it comes to healing she cannot heal herself and can only heal a certain severity of wounds on others.

( will add to this as time goes on )

#demichq:intro #bigotry tw #death tw #asshole dad tw #violence tw

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influencermagazineuk · 22 days ago

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A closely contested 1-0 win came for Inter Milan in their Champions League battle against Arsenal at San Siro as Hakan Calhanoglu maintained his perfect penalty record with the only goal of a tight match. With the defeat, the Gunners' unbeaten run in the competition was brought to an end as a week of turmoil at the club came to an end following the shock resignation of sporting director Edu. It was a disappointing evening for Arsenal manager Mikel Arteta, who got himself booked in the second half after pushing forward his team to equalise, thus narrowly avoiding being sent off. This latest loss, 1-0 on the road, was Arsenal's second consecutive 1-0 defeat away from home. Arsenal had the edge after the break, taking a total of 14 corners to Inter's zero. Steindy (talk) 10:15, 11 April 2016 (UTC), CC BY-SA 3.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/3.0, via Wikimedia Commons A penalty in the 48th minute was all Inter needed to take home this game after Mehdi Taremi's deflected flick struck Mikel Merino's arm, which, Arteta later said, was "hard to accept." The last time Arsenal visited Inter, nearly 21 years ago, is counted as one of their most iconic European nights after they secured a resounding 5-1 win. Edu, a midfielder then, played a key role along with Ray Parlour in this celebrated match, punctuated by a magnificent solo run by Thierry Henry. In this second meeting, though Arsenal showed a strong dominance of play after Inter's early thrust, the result was different. The Gunners had been observing a bit of inconsistency lately, losing three games in six across all competitions, which has halted their good run going on after the early part of the season. Some respite was seen towards the end of the game with the return of captain Martin Ødegaard, out for 12 matches because of an ankle injury. But Thomas Partey, stepping in for the unavailable Declan Rice, started anchored central midfield and Ben White filled in at the back, where Arsenal had yet to concede inside the Champions League proper until this defeat in the north of Italy. Inter, meanwhile, have four clean sheets in a row and are sitting pretty in the top eight Champions League teams. Arsenal, on the other hand, is now 12th. Simone Inzaghi, Inter's manager, left out several key players, including Calhanoglu and Taremi, for their weekend victory over Venezia, a move that came off as both players featured prominently in the win over Arsenal. With his focus on seeing lots of the ball and starving Arsenal of a chance to attack, the Italian champions set the tone early, but Inter nearly took the lead within seconds of the start after Denzel Dumfries hit the crossbar soon after having a Calhanoglu attempt that just went past the box. Arsenal found it hard to build any sort of flow in the first half. Gabriel Magalhães was surely instrumental in clearing Taremi's from the edge of the area but things went pear-shaped in a flash when the Brazilian was booked for his tussle with Lautaro Martínez. Arteta claimed the rest and sent on Jurriën Timber and Gabriel Martinelli, possibly anticipating against Dumfries. While Arsenal eventually found opportunities - a shot on target for Martinelli, a near-miss header from Merino - Inter's defense would not bend once in the opening half. The breakthrough came in stoppage time of the opening half, when referee awarded Inter a penalty after Calhanoglu calmly slotting the spot kick home as the Mertens volley was deflected off the arm of Merino inside the box to give Inter the lead and send Arsenal seeking the equalizer. After the penalty, Arteta brought in tactical alterations and replaced Merino with Gabriel Jesus, with Kai Havertz dropping into midfield. Arsenal pressed intensely throughout the second half. Martinelli first chipped the outside of the side netting before William Saliba got a corner wrong. Gabriel nearly headed home when his nod led to Dumfries clearing the ball off the line. Ødegaard warms up on the sideline, but Inter brings on fresh legs with a triple substitution, mere seconds past the hour. Arteta, visibly agitated, was yellow carded for handling the ball when it was already out of play for a free-kick from Inter. The referee gave Arteta his final yellow for his complaints about the handling. "It was an interesting conversation," said Arteta after. Arsenal had a great chance to draw the game level as Leandro Trossard's cross reached Havertz, but that German's shot was blocked by Inter's Yann Bisseck. An acute shortage of options left Arteta having to introduce 17-year-old Ethan Nwaneri before finally Ødegaard in added time. However, Inter's defense did not flinch and thus kept their clean sheet intact for a weekend clash with Napoli. Arsenal, though has to rebuild as their game against Chelsea is only heaping coals to an already tight week. Read the full article

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equestrianempire · 9 months ago

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Confidence d'Ass Conquer the Prix du Grand Palais CSI 5 by Edward Levy andamp;

Paris, France – March 15, 2024 – Late morning this Friday, French rider Edward Lévy ( FRA ) won the €28, 200 Prix du Grand Palais CSI 5*, the first event of the Saut Hermès, hosted in the Grand Palais Éphémère arena. The 29-year-old rider, who is α 12-year-old French Saddle mare ƙnown as Confidence d’Ass, was able to optimize every stride and turn of the çourse created by Spanish course architect Santiago Varela Ullastres ( ESP) to kick-off the opposition in fashįon.

Julien Anquetin ( FRA ) &amp, Farah Tame

The Frȩnchman placed fourth out of forty-nine riders at the start of this two-phase event, with jumps set at 1. 45, and his time of reference ( 22’40 ) was only slightly faster than his compatriot Julien Anquetin ( FRA ), who started in second position with Farah Tame, who had set off in second place. &nbsp,

Kevin Staut ( FRA ) completes the 100 % French podium with Cloe GP Z ( 23 ”86 ), a mare he has only been riding for a few weeks.

Olivier Perreau ( FRA ), who racked up a very quick time aboard GL Events Dolce Deceuninck ( 22 ”26 ), narrowly missed out on victory after picking up a fault as he entered the double fence, which eliminated him from contention for this event.

Edward Levy ( FRA ) &amp, Confidence d’Ass

Winner’s Circle – Edward Lévy ( FRA )

” It’s great to be able to start a contest like this, especially here in Paris, at the Saut Hermès, &nbsp, admits the reigning French champion. &nbsp, When I came across Julien&nbsp, ( Anquetin ) &nbsp, in the paddock, he teased me and said” go ahead and try”. At the first oxer, I soon started a very good stride and attempted to maintain the same pattern. My horse is incredibly capable of this kind of function. She is amazing and frequently occupies the top spot on the head board. She’s a talent in her class. She is a member of ɱy groomer and his wife, and she was born at the end of the time at the age oƒ seven. Her soul is bigger tⱨan hers, and she commands a great deal of value. We have a lot of fun together” . &nbsp,

Last Benefits – €28, 200 Prix du Grand Palais CSI 5*

1 ) Edward Lévy ( FRA ) &amp, Confidence d’Ass – 0/ 0 – 22. 40

2 ) Julien Anquetin ( FRA ) &amp, Farah Tame – 0/ 0 – 22. 86

3 ) Kevin Staut ( FRA ) &amp, Cloe GP Z – 0/ 0 – 23. 86

Origin: Press Release from Saut Hermès

Photos: © Saut Hermès/

Categories: CSI 5*, English, Jumper News France

Identified as: Chevaux, Cloe GP Z, Confidence d’Ass, Edward Levy, Equestrian, Farah Tame, Fédération Française d’Equitation, FFE, Grand Palais, Horses, Julien Anquetin, Jumper News, Jumper News France, Kevin Staut, Effects, Saut Hermès, Saut Hermès des Grand Palais, Selle Français, SF, Showjumping

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going-to-ikea-for-the-fries · 10 months ago

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Home Pt. 7 || cbf! Simon "Ghost" Riley

Rating: M Words: 1.9K CW: vomitting. thoughts of hurting someone. Tags: you/your pronouns, time skip, heartbreak. a/n: not proofread. also, I lied. It's a triple-chapter sort of day.

[← Previous] || [Next →] || [MY MASTERLIST]

Maybe it’s the heartbreak over you.

Or the lack of distractions in the shape of your countless 3, 4, 5-page letters, like you used to send during Basic and ITT.

But the fact of the matter is that Lance Corporal Riley dived headfirst into the job, taking out enemies with an efficiency and bravery many of his COs have never seen before.

Something about Simon Riley makes him too good at his job.

The type of good that his COs can’t part with, and therefore made them circumvent rules to keep him in the field, instead of sending him on leave.

The type of good that means he’s progressing up the ranks scarily fast, getting commendations left and right.

The type of good that attracts attention from all sorts of people in all sorts of high places.

Six months turned to twelve, turned to eighteen, turned to twenty-four…

In a blink-and-you-miss-it moment, by the time Corporal Simon Riley notices, he’s twenty-five, and passing selection for the 22nd Regiment of the SAS.

He throws punches in the training room, the other newcomer he’s fighting with narrowly dodging them. His aggression is coming out more than usual, almost like he’s having trouble keeping a lid on the boiling pot that are his inner thoughts.

He needs to let out frustration. He needs to hurt someone.

That’s all he’s been able to think of since he woke up this morning and saw the date on his calendar.

The calendar is a funny thing. The days keep going past, coming and going, another page, another month… Time moves and he feels he’s standing still.

Sure, he got bumped up the ranks, he got accepted into the SAS, he went back to Manc for the holidays, celebrated his birthday, his wins…

But that didn’t stop his heart from aching as the calendar showed the anniversary of your first kiss, the anniversary of your first time, your birthday and his…

Today is October 5th. The 13-year anniversary of the day you two met.

And you are all he can think of.

He was nineteen, you were eighteen.

He had just gotten himself out of base and took a bus to the train station. Eight months. Eight months he had spent in Afghanistan.

He had gotten nothing from you, not once hearing “Lance Corporal Riley, phone!” as he got brought into the tent to pick up a phone call from you… And much less a letter of yours dropped at the foot of his bunk in the few times he had enough downtime to sleep.

He had time to think. Nothing else but time, he felt like. Time to realize that, maybe, he was wrong in the way he left. Maybe he shouldn’t have said the things he did. Even if he still thought you needed to hear them.

He missed you. Point blank.

He got himself to the station early, over an hour left for his train to Manc to leave.

He found himself meandering in the streets nearby, killing time. A bergen pack on his shoulders, hands in his pockets, muscular arms on display in a t-shirt that clung a bit too tight to his body. A few fresh scars on his arms and hands from the recent service.

His brown eyes were drawn to a shop window, a jeweler’s. He told himself it was just because the items on display are shiny.

He went inside. He told himself it was just because he had time to kill.

The jeweler, a kind old man, spotted the fatigues he was wearing, and showed him the engagement rings without even being asked. He looked at them all, going back and forth between all the designs. He told himself it was just to amuse the elderly man.

But as he disembarked the train in Manchester hours later and walked toward the cabbies across the street from the station, his hand tapped at the little ring box in the top right pocket of his cargo pants.

When he got home, his dad’s car was gone. Good. It meant you were still driving around with it. He forced himself to go inside, to greet Tommy and mum, dad not being home when he got there, thank God.

Once they were both asleep, he took mum’s car out. It was a shitty little Vauxhall Vectra. He made a mental note to buy her a new one once he had enough money as he drove out to the viewpoint he knew you spent your nights in.

But you weren’t there.

He drove back down to Wythenshawe and took the car in a slow drive-by past your house. The car wasn’t there either.

So, he drove to your local, the spot you both spent so many nights with your mutual friends at. It wasn’t there either. In fact, no one’s car was there. Not even your old mates… Even though it was a Friday night.

As a last resort, he drove to Olly’s house. The lights were on. His dad’s car wasn’t there, but Olly’s was. So, he parked the car and went up the steps, knocking on the door.

A very weary-eyed Olly opened the door, wearing a dirty undershirt, as he seemed to have just gotten home from work. “Riley?! Oi, bruv!” He greeted Simon with a half-hug and pat on the back, which Simon returned. “How you been?”

“Can’t complain.” Simon replied. “Just shipped back from deployment.” He added, stepping inside the house. “How’ve you been?” He returned the question, even if he didn’t care.

He felt stiff inside Olly’s house, even if he was the one mate of his that Simon was closest to, other than you. He felt like he didn’t belong there.

“Been alright. Workin’ construction now. You know how it is.” He remarked as he offered Simon a beer from the fridge. But he didn’t take it. The brand was the same cheap shite your father used to drink. He didn’t need it.

“I need to see your cousin. Just been by her house but she wasn’t there.” He added as he watched Olly drop himself onto an armchair in the sitting room. Simon remained standing, arms crossed over his chest.

Oliver’s face immediately turned to look at Simon, eyebrows raising in surprise. “Oh, bloody hell, you didn’t know, did you?” He asked.

“Didn’t know what?” He asked and cocked a brow, moving his arms a bit as his blouson jacket scrunched under the strain of his crossed bulky arms.

“Y/N vanished. Packed up and left a few months ago. Didn’t tell anyone where she was going. Drove her mum and mine up the bloody wall panicking that she was gone.” Olly explained, his voice a bit more solemn.

Simon’s blood ran cold as he heard what Olly said. “Wha-” He choked on his own breath and coughed a bit as Olly kept going, saying something or other about how you didn’t even pick up your last paycheck from the little job you were working. How you had only scheduled a letter be sent from the post office to your mum to promise her that you were alive and safe, and were going to find someplace better for yourself.

The blond lad didn’t even dignify your cousin with another word. He simply turned and marched out of the house, slamming the door behind him as he returned to his mum’s car.

It felt like the engagement ring he had bought you suddenly weighed a ton, and like it was burning a hole through his pocket and onto his stomach, searing hot, mocking him.

He leaned his hands against the top of the car and leaned his hand down, feeling like he was going to throw up.

What did he expect? That you’d still be around, waiting for him with open arms? That you’d stay after the way he treated you? That was pathetic of him. Hell, you might have been immature and naive, but you weren’t a bloody pushover, that much he knew.

“Riley!” A voice calls out to him, but it’s just far enough that he can tune it out and keep fighting.

The other cadet is winded, stumbling back when Simon throws a harsh elbow to his nose and then sweeps his legs out from under him, landing the other man on the mat.

“RILEY!” The voice is louder and Simon suddenly stops in his tracks, shoulders rising and falling.

He looks back at the source of the voice, Lieutenant Jonathan Price, his C.O.. “My office.” He demands. Simon grunts under his breath and his shoulders drop. He looks back down at the recruit he’s sent sprawling onto the floor. He’s bleeding, cupping his nose with his hand.

He huffs and reaches a hand down, helping the other one to his feet and mumbling a few half-hearted apologies. “Didn’t think you’d be that weak.” He says in banter, trying not to seem so angry, the other guy laughing it off despite the unmistakeable soreness in his back and blood all over his uniform.

Then, Simon rushes off, taking off his black grappling gloves and slipping his body under the ropes of the ring, following after Lieutenant Price.

He enters the office after a brief knock and goes inside, noticing Lieutenant Price on the other side, sitting at his desk, arms crossed. “You wanna explain to me why you’re throwing the other recruits around like ragdolls?” He nods his head out the door.

Corporal Simon Riley, now an SAS Cadet, takes a breath and closes the door behind himself and slowly sits in front of Price.

He has a lot of respect for his Lieutenant, having been handpicked by him specifically to join his Bravo Six squadron. He’d even say he gets along with the man.

“Nuthin’ boss.” Simon replies as he looks away from the harsh blue eyes of the man in front of him.

“Right. Nuthin’.” Price says sarcastically. “Well, whatever that nuthin’ is, you better fix it.” He adds.

If only it was that easy, Simon wants to tell him. But he doesn’t. Instead nods his head sharply. Not much he could do either way. He agrees with Price. He knows he was in the wrong minutes ago. He’s normally so good at keeping a lid on it…

“It’s just a bad day.” Simon replies. “‘ll be back to normal tomorrow.”

“I don’t care if it’s a bad day, a bad week or a bad life.” He adds bluntly, display his authority. “I can’t have a tickin’ time bomb in my ranks, understood?”

“Yes, sir.” Simon replies and nods again and looks down at his legs, spread open in the armchair across from Price’s desk, his eyes locked on the black training trousers with the SAS logo stamped on the left leg.

“We gotta rely on each other, Riley,” Price starts to tell him, which causes Simon’s brown eyes to flit upward abruptly, locking onto Price’s blue ones.

“Stop bloody relyin’ on me.”

“If you’re so fuckin’ unhappy and ungrateful of what I’m doin’ for us both…”

“Then grow up and leave. Get yourself out.”

“...so, redirect that aggression.” Price finishes his explanation. “Let it out in the firing range or the field. Not against your own team.” He advises.

“Yes, sir.” Simon adds and gulps a bit, pushing himself up off his chair. He makes for the door in quick, silent steps, without having to be dismissed.

He closes the door behind him and rushes down the hall and out a side door.

Once he’s around the back of the building, he keels over and vomits over his boots.

[← Previous] || [Next →] || [MY MASTERLIST]

taglist: @iite-cool , @spicyspicyliving

#ikea writes 💚#home cbf!simon fic #cod fanfic #ghost cod #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x you #childhood best friends to lovers #cbf #cbf!simon #teenage love #masterlist #angst #heartbreak #time skip

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f1 · 1 year ago

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Its amazing to be disappointed Piastri reacts to missing out on Sprint Shootout pole by 0.011s

Oscar Piastri expressed mixed emotions after qualifying for the Sprint Shootout at the Belgian Grand Prix, having been narrowly beaten to top spot by Max Verstappen. Piastri and McLaren displayed rapid pace in another wet-dry session at Spa-Francorchamps, mixing it for pole position but missing out to the Red Bull driver by just 0.011s. READ MORE: Verstappen claims pole in wet/dry Spa Sprint Shootout by 0.011s from Piastri Giving his initial reaction to the session, and the fine margins involved, Piastri said: “You can lose that much time and about a hundred times that very easily, so I was very happy with my lap – I thought I did a good job. “Of course, there’s always points in the lap where you think I could have gained 11 thousandths, but it’s still been a very good session. Our car really likes it when it’s like that, clearly; we were good yesterday in Q2 when it was like that.” This feature is currently not available because you need to provide consent to functional cookies. Please update your cookie preferences Sprint Shootout Highlights: 2023 Belgian Grand Prix Meanwhile, Piastri reckoned his P2 grid slot would be the ideal place to be whether conditions are dry or wet come the Sprint a little later on Saturday afternoon. “It’s a nice place to be,” he continued. “I think if there’s one track where you want to start second instead of first, it’s probably here, so I’m going to say I did that on purpose! But yeah, we’ll see how we go. MUST-SEE: Brave slick gamble goes wrong for Stroll as he hits the wall in Sprint Shootout at Spa “Obviously the weather could change again for the Sprint, so either I’ll have hopefully a nice tow down to Turn 5, or be able to at least see where I’m going! “I just can’t thank the team enough; it’s still pretty amazing that we’re disappointed with being on the front row and just missing out on pole. We’ll see what we can do this afternoon.” Piastri fell short of pole for the Sprint by just 0.011s in another wet-dry session With McLaren – and Piastri in particular – excelling in the middle sector, the Australian rookie joked about what was behind his impressive speed through the medium and high-speed corners. “I mean, I drove James Hunt’s car [at Goodwood], so big balls!” Piastri smiled, referencing James Hunt’s famous quip to Sir Stirling Moss about what had made him so fast in the 1976 F1 season. “I don’t know. I think our car is very good, we’re running more downforce than everybody, so where there’s more corners, naturally we’re going to be better. ANALYSIS: Why Szafnauer, Permane and Fry departed Alpine on Friday at Spa – and could Mattia Binotto be part of the rebuilding process? “But yeah, I felt like it was a good lap, I felt like I couldn’t get much more out of that. I tried my best, did what the car allowed me to do and it was almost good enough to be the quickest.” via Formula 1 News https://www.formula1.com

#F1 #‘It’s amazing to be disappointed’ – Piastri reacts to missing out on Sprint Shootout pole by 0.011s #Formula 1

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scottatkinson · 2 years ago

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Trying to Stay Afloat

We drift through the clear open waters of Georgian Bay in our red canoe. Not a care in the world. Smiles on our faces, stomachs full, and a full day of paddling and exploring ahead of my family and me. The first two days had gone by like a breeze. We paddled for 5 or 6 hours total, sunny clear skies, and lots of tasty snacks along the way. Always finishing off with hot chocolate once we got set up at camp. Today seemed to follow the same suit; we got up at the crack of dawn, got some oats and coffee in us, and packed up for the day ahead. The temperature was about 25 degrees Celsius and the sun was tickling our skin once again so we made sure to layer up with sunscreen.

We traversed the Georgian bay in about an hour hiding the edges with small rock islands habiting frail trees and lots of chirping birds. As we approach our turn down into the river running out of the bay, we see a black sign with a picture of a rock with fast-flowing water. We know what this means; our first set of rapids that we must tackle. My uncle and my Dad being the most experienced paddlers decide to go up and take a look at what to expect, as the water levels change frequently with the seasons. It's mid-June so almost all of the snow has melted months before and the water level is moderate to high. In April or May, this would be an almost impossible task to get through with the dangerous water levels. Most likely resulting in a portage, where we take off the packs out of the canoe and carry everything around the rapids on my foot.

My dad and uncle work their way back to us with a smile on their faces.

“Nothing you guys can’t handle up there. We’ll just need to avoid a couple of sticky spots and everything will be fine.” Says my dad.

At this point, we have no reason to doubt him so we throw our life jackets on and get ready to go. As we slowly approach the head of the rapids I see two massive boulders on each side with lots of white water crashing over top of each one.

We gently tip the head of our canoe into the flying water and get grabbed and thrown into the stream like a walkway at the airport. Immediately I feel like i’d lost my training wheels and my sense of control over the canoe.

“VEAR LEFT!! LEFT!!” My brother screams from a foot behind me.

I quickly do draw strokes on the left side of the boat pulling us a couple of feet over and narrowly missing a sharp rock.

“LET'S HEAD RIGHT!! QUICK!” My brother directs me.

The left side is now home to a field of boulders in shallow water ready to pierce the bottom of our boat.

I draw as hard as I can to the right but the back of the boat fishtails behind us. It slams into a boulder sending a wave of bone-chilling water into our boat. I dig my paddle into the bottom of the river in an attempt to stabilize our boat from tipping, but to no avail.

“WE HAVE TO LEAN !” I cry out desperately.

Our efforts are too late as the canoe does a full 180, ejecting us and our belonging into the river. My body is shocked at the frigid temperature of the water but I come to my sense and put my feet out in front of me. This way the rocks will hit our feet and we can gently push off as we float down to the bottom of the river. Our packs are spread out across the river at the bottom as we pass the final stretch of rapids. I look over my right shoulder and see a pie sized hole in the bottom of our canoe.

First picture : A beautiful painting by Nancy Yanaky which depicts a section of rapids in the french river, on her trips to the Georgian Bay. https://www.kingstonglassstudio.com/products/orchards-2

Second picture : A map of Georgian Bay. On our trip we traversed the open water and exited at the French River in the top corner of the map. https://www.redbubble.com/i/photographic-print/Map-of-Georgian-Bay-and-Lake-Huron-by-QBFCanada/51429189.6Q0TX

Third picture : Picture used in “Guide to Rapid Classification.” Posted by Mikaela

https://www.voyageurtripper.com/whitewater-rapid-classification/

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steviebunny · 3 years ago

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Till' The End of Time

Chapter 5

The Oracle Dome

Flushing Meadows, NY: 2011

Crashing through a top segment of the large glass dome, Tony finally manages to take hold of the rampaging suit, as both he and Rhodey crash to the ground.

The pair now grabbing at each other, Tony attempts to blast his husband off him but the man rebukes the attempt and straddles him pinning his armored shoulders to the ground. The giant metal gun starts firing against either men's wills, Tony's hand just barely manages to push it away with his hand, narrowly missing his head.

James screams out a broken "Tony!" Voice raspy and heavy with fear, within the suit itself the man's eyes are filling up with tears. He's desperate to stop but his limbs are immobile- he's completely at the suit’s mercy.

Then suddenly the shooting stops, the suit powers down, the lights in the eyes going completely dark... The sudden loss of momentum sends both men hurling up to the sky, then dropping back to the ground- Rhodes left completely stuck lying on the ground but his husband able now to rush him out of the suit. As he looks onto his mate, catching his breath he can hear Rushman's voice breaking through the internal speakers.

"Reboot complete. We've got him back."

"Thank you very much, Precious. Remind me to make it up to you."

"I'll keep that in mind. Well done with the new chest piece, I'm reading significantly higher output, and your vitals all look promising."

"Yes, for the moment I'm not dying. Thank you. I'm having Lottie reach out to the origin of what's managed to help- she's convincing if we're lucky I'll get full cooperation and be back to 100% soon enough."

Natasha's eyes dart back and forth along the screens, widening as she sees a hoard of droids heading in her male mates' direction.

"Shit... You got incoming Tony. Looks like the fights coming to you."

Tony taps lightly along the top of War Machine's head- the fizzling of its internal screen stops to show Stark's face "Rhodes, snap out it, baby, I need you."

He knocks on the helmet this time, causing it to open up much like his own "They're coming. Come on, let's roll. Get up."

"Oh man, you can have your suit back."

"You okay?"

"Yeah, thanks... Tony look I'm sorry okay...I thought I was doing the right, thing. Following orders- the Senate assigned me along with Hammer. I never wanted any of this to happen."

"Don't apologize, nothing about this is your fault."

"No, I should have stayed with you and Lottie, the next morning. They wanted the suit- I should've never brought it to them, it gave Hammer and Vanko the opportunity to analyze it...I should have trusted you more"

"I'm the one who put you in this position, in the first place. Forget it."

Rhodey chuckles a bit under his breath happy to know theirs no hard feeling between the two of them

"No, it's definitely your fault. I just wanted to say I'm sorry." Voice laced in a half-joking tone.

"Thank you. That's all I wanted to hear. Lover."

" ... Never call me that again."

"Yeah, yeah I heard it when I said it. Regreted it as soon as it came out."

"Just stick to platypus."

Tony turns looking around the wildlife- trying to mentally assess the situation, "They're coming in hot, What's the play?"

"Well, we're gonna want to take the high ground, okay? So let's put the biggest gun up on that ridge."

"Got you."

The both of them move to walk in the same direction, confusing each other they stop and simultaneously ask each other.

"Where do you wanna be?"

"Where are you going?"

"What are you talking about?" The red and gold-clad man questions.

"I meant me."

"You have a big gun, you are not the big gun."

"Baby, don't be jealous."

"No. It's subtle, all the Bella and whistles."

"Yeah, it's called being a badass."

"Fine. Alright, you go up top. I'll draw them in."

"Well don't stay down here it's the worst place to be."

"Okay, you got a spot. Where's mine?"

"It's the kill box, Tony. Okay? This is where you go to die."

"Well, I beat death once today already."

"See look, you hit your quota. Now you gotta be careful-" the silver-suited man is interrupted by the sound of thrusters disengaging, A giant hammer droid lands upon the ridge he'd claimed as his own. Even more landing in a circle surrounding the mated pair.

The two give each other a side glanced look and both out down their helmets, safety locks clicking into place.

The droids rush after them arms raised. 'Guns-a-blazin’ the two humans in battle take turns ducking and shooting when an enemy gets closer, blasting lasers and shooting rockets- priority to defend each other rather than to cause the most damage.

One droid manages to get close enough to Tony to grab him, Iron Man reacts instantly pushing his elbow into the robot and shoving his blaster in the thing’s face stopping it in its tracks. Rhodes shoots the next closes droid- almost point-blank. Drawing a line down the robot, practically splitting the thing in half.

Another shot is fired in Tony's direction, he flips to see three of the attackers right next to each other. The man raises a wrist blaster and fires three mini rockets into the trio, exploding them all.

"See that?"

"Yeah, Yeah, Nice."

The two continue fighting, kicking, shooting, and punching, still finding themselves surrounded.

Tony yells to his mate-

"Rhodey, get down!"

He engages two weapons upon the knuckles of his suit, they glow red with power. Iron Man pulls out his arms and spins in circles, effectively slicing all the remaining bots and surrounding trees in half.

"Wow. I think you should lead with that next time." Rhodey says teasing his husband.

"Yeah sorry, boss. I can only use it once, it's a one-off."

Within the previously unbroken, stark Expo Hall, Pepper Potts escorts out a set of police officers. Justin Hammer is taken into the custody of the NYPD, she directs each of the officers to separate corners of the building to make sure all the bases are covered the woman heads the management of the operation. Despite what Hammer thinks she doesn't just do things to get ahead as a CEO, she's there to help people as well. She has the ability too, to not take advantage of that opportunity would let guilt weigh on her conscience. She's better than that, Stronger than that.

Pepper Potts is a good person before she's a good CEO.

Natasha still in Hammers’ facility monitoring the park, sees yet another droid making its rounds.

"Heads up. You got one more drone incoming. This one looks different, The repulsor signature is significantly higher."

The two metal men turn to the bright lights now above both their heads, A lighter silver, taller, metal suit of armor lowers Infront of them.

The helmet opens showing Vanko inside- "Good to be back."

"Oh, this ain't gonna be good."

Vanko draws his arms up and into himself, across his chest before dislodging them diagonally, two large swords like electrical currents come out of the arms. As he fully relaxed his shoulder the swords turn down into long taser-like ropes.

"I got something special for this guy. I'ma bust his bunker with the ex-wife." He says as a miniature rocket launcher cocks out of his left shoulder.

"I'm sorry the what? Don't let Lottie hear you call it that."

The weapon whirrs up, building suspense and then shoots out to Vanko it slows as it approaches the man and barely 'tinks' his armor before falling to the ground. Fizzling out. Useless.

"Hammer tech?"

"Yeah."

"I got this," Tony tells his mate as his internal gauges lock on Vanko, the man's own rocket launchers equipping themselves into action. Shooting at the enemy.

His helmet lowers as the rockets hit him, he presses forward swinging his electric ropes at the two others. He swipes shooting out to Rhodey, decapitating the gun off of its shoulder perch. Rendering the weapon useless.

Tony flies into the sky, pushing himself behind Vanko still shooting at the man. The rope grabs him mid-flight, pulling him in and tossing him into a set of rocks. Rhodes runs out shooting at the tallest suit; distracting it long enough for Tony to rush him.

Unfortunately, Vanko sees him do this and punches him up into a wooden arch.

The battle continues, every time Vanko's back is turned in the battle, Rhodey and Tones take turns striking slowly but surely weakening their attacker. Vanko gets the upper hand- throwing his ropes around the necks of both men. Pulling them upright, caught.

"Sugar bear, I got an idea. You wanna be a hero?"

"What?"

"I could really use a partner. Put your hand up."

"This is your idea?"

"Yep."

"I'm ready, I'm ready! Go, go, go!"

The two stand their hands outstretched in either's direction, repulsors charging up equally, getting brighter with each passing second.

"TAKE IT!" Tony screams as a warning, the both of them fire at Vanko causing the man to explode like a time bomb, radiating throughout the dome causing all of the glass panels to shatter at the outburst.

Tony stark sits in a shield warehouse at a glass desk awaiting Director Fury, he scans over the desk spotting a folder labeled.

"Avengers initiative. Preliminary Report."

Before he can open it to read, Fury having finally arrived- sets his hand on the folder, stopping the other man.

"I don't think I want you looking at that. I'm not sure if that pertains to you as of right now, your wife. Yes. You- not so sure. Now, this is Agent Romanoff’s assessment of you. Read it."

Tony takes the folder and opens it-

" Personality overview. Mr. Stark displays compulsive tendencies and is prone to self-destructive behavior, what first comes off as textbook narcism goes on to show a deep-bred level of insecurity and self-doubt imbued onto him from what can only be assumed, a young age... Ah here we go, Recruitment for the Avengers Initiative. Iron Man? Yes. Tony Stark is not... Not recommend? If Mr. Stark can prove himself to be on a path of self-improvement, regular visitation to a trained therapist or psychiatrist is advised he would make a much more suitable candidate for the Avengers initiative.

As it sits now I do not have the qualifications to diagnose Mr. Stark but if asked my best guess would be that Tony stark suffers from either PTSD or C-PTSD in one form or another and should seek professional counsel."

Tony finishes reading off the report with a shakey and heavy breath. He drops the folder down and looks to the one-eyed man, "So I make a few appointments with Lottie's therapist and you'll recommend me?"

"More than a few."

Finally at peace, no longer under the threat of attack, the four soulmates can all calmly take time to enjoy each other's company.

Lenora finally finished with all the work she's done for the embassy, runs up to her husband's hugging the both of them tightly

"My loves! I was so scared for you". 'she smacks the both of them in their chests right above their medals of honor.' "Do you have any idea what it's like to be in a foreign country having to watch the news report on your soulmates risking their lives!"

Tony pulls her in further "I know and we're sorry but Vanko didn't leave us much of a choice."

"That doesn't make me feel better."

She pushed the two of them aside, revealing Natasha standing somewhat awkwardly with a duffle bag slung over her shoulder.

"Is that all you have?"

"Spy tends to pack light."

"Well, Tony will buy you a bunch of crap you don't need anyway." She says to bring the other woman into a firm hug. Ignoring the hurt "hey" leaving Tony's lips.

Lenora let go of her mates looking at them all, still holding the redhead’s hand, "Okay everyone needs to go change. We all have an appointment at the courthouse in an hour." She tells them all with a smile.

And that's how by the end of the night, the four mates ended up tangled in bed together, Rhodey nestled into Lenora's chest, Natasha wrapped around the dark-skinned man, and Tony partially underneath Lenora, and arm thrown over all of his loves-

-and a certain Russian spy was now not Natasha Romanoff, but instead Natasha Romanoff Stark.

Together forever,

Till' The end of time.

Masterlist

Chapter 5.5

@niffala @americasass81 @nsfwsebbie

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mmvalentine · 4 years ago

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The Bargain Pt 4 | Feysand

Modern AU. Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 5

Feyre’s last session was on a Thursday evening, Rhys’ last appointment of the day. And she was running very late.

Feyre rushed down the street, trying to scrape her hair back into some semblance of presentability, and narrowly dodged bowling an old man over in the street. She skidded to a halt outside the tattoo shop, spared just one glance at her reflection in the glass and then swept in. Despite noticing with horror the dark circles under her eyes.

She stood in the doorway, and watched Rhys look up from where he was sitting and sketching, probably startled by the clanging she was making by bursting through the door like this. She just hoped she wasn’t too late.

“I’m so sorry,” she said to him, still panting slightly. “I know I’m unacceptably late. Do you still have time to finish my tattoo?” Rhys put down his pen. "Of course," he said. "Are you okay?" "Yeah," Feyre said, looking away and self-consciously tugging on her dishevelled shirt. "I... got caught up at home, I'm really sorry." "That's okay," Rhys said. "Come on in."

They set up like usual, and soon Rhys was putting the finishing touches on Feyre's arm. She lay there and stared at the ceiling, Tamlin’s latest temper tantrum reeling through her head and still pounding in her ears. And this time, she barely felt the needles at all. She could hear the machines buzzing but the pain seemed very, very far away.

In all honesty, she was glad of a little pain today. Morbid as it may seem, her insides were churning so hard, the sharp physical sensation actually made more sense than the hurt and confusion that she felt every time Tamlin lost his cool. How strange, that being tattooed today seemed like just what she needed.

So she let Rhys finish the shading around her wrist, add dot work, and highlight in white, and just lay quietly. Better than opening her mouth and letting Rhys see what a mess she really was.

But Rhys seemed to notice anyway. He kept glancing up at her, as if waiting for her to resume their usual chatter. After about half an hour, he spoke.

"You know I'm really glad you're here," he said. "All day I've been tattooing this guy who just won't stop singing." It took a moment to filter through, but Feyre had to admit she was intrigued. Rhys went on, speaking quickly as if trying to fill the silence.

"Yeah, he's carrying on and on and even giving tips to Mor- she's one of the artists here, who's in a band. So he's telling her all these things about performing and vocals. Thing is, he's absolutely shite."

Feyre looked at him. Was Rhys… babbling?

"I had to make sure I talked to him the whole time, because if I stopped talking he started singing." Feyre snorted and Rhys smiled to himself.

"So here I am, trying to concentrate and tattoo as fast as I can, and trying to come up with lengthy topics of conversation before one of the guys comes over to murder me." "What did you talk about?" Feyre asked him. "Jellyfish," Rhys told her. "Jellyfish?!" "Yeah I've been listening to podcasts about ocean life and it's all I could think of at the time." "Okay," Feyre said. "Hit me with some jellyfish facts."

"Did you know," Rhys said, "that there is a species of jellyfish that never dies. It's got two life stages, sort of like you know insects have a larval stage, but it just shifts back and forth from one to the other indefinitely." "So it's immortal?" "Yeah, basically. Another species can glom onto each other and form a mega jellyfish, where like there will be a mouth jelly and an excretion jelly and all that but they're just one big jelly now." "Woah like hivemind jellyfish?" "Sure, except jellyfish don't have brains." "That's crazy." "Uh huh."

Rhys let Feyre ponder jellyfish facts while he went back up her arm checking for bits he had missed. Found a spot that would be shaded darker, and started on that bit. The needle bit into her skin with a whine.

"Hey," he said tentatively. "Are you okay?"

Feyre sighed inwardly, and wished fervently that she was the kind of girl that could make a guy laugh, and not worry.

"Yeah, I'm okay," she answered. "I'm so sorry I was late today. Looks like everyone else has pretty much packed up for the day and you're staying late because of me." Indeed the last artist had left the space ten minutes ago, and they were now alone.

"Well, actually," Rhys said, "I'm just about done here. Just have to finish up this bit... and we're finished." He sat up straight, put the machine down and wiped her down. Then he stretched in his seat while Feyre stared at her arm, turning it this way and that. A whorl of night sky and dreaming stared back at her, and for a moment she forgot Tamlin altogether.

"Rhys," she said, "this is incredible. Thank you so much. I…I love it." Loved the way it looked on her, actually. She had never been particularly fond of her own body, and couldn’t stop staring down at herself.

"You're very welcome. If you want, you can go look in the mirror and see then whole effect before I wrap you up."

So Feyre slid off the bench and skipped over to the full length mirror by the wall, and Rhys chuckled as he started packing his area down. She took in her reflection, this time bypassing her tired face completely and just seeing the ink in her skin. She had had the tattoo for months now, but it hadn't prepared her for what the finished product would look like. It looked like... like herself.

When she came back, Rhys wrapped her arm she paid the remainder owing. And then all that was left to do was leave. Go home. To Tamlin.

She stood on the spot, with one ankle turned out and her bottom lip between her teeth. Rhys paused.

"You don't want to go home, do you?" he asked her. And she looked up at him, and his searching, violet eyes, and couldn’t lie to him. She shook her head.

Rhys nodded. Looked around the empty studio, and then said, "Okay. Well I'll need another twenty minutes to finishing break down, and then I will tell you the rest of the jellyfish facts I know before you go. Deal?"

Relief slid into her veins. "Deal."

So she sat a stool in the corner of the studio while Rhys pottered about, putting things away and sanitising his station. Then when he was done, he pulled up another stool and sat opposite her, and told her everything he knew about scyphozoa while she picked through his sharpies and drew pictures in the blank spaces on his left forearm. It was only fair, she had said, since he had inked hers. He even had her sign the work, just below the heel of his palm.

"I'll get it tattooed," he said, "and then when you're world-famous I'll be a collectible item." Feyre laughed. "Okay, well then I'll give you a nice artistic autograph so you don't have to have some random girl's name tattooed on you." She scribbled her signature, and Rhys turned his wrist around to read it. "Oh so by artistic you mean illegible," he said. “Wouldn't want to upset any love interests," Feyre said, "I can't fight for shit." Rhys laughed. "Well there's no one to fight, but thanks for your thoughtful consideration."

They smiled at each other for a minute, until Feyre’s heart squeezed painfully and she forced herself to stand. "I should go," she said. Rhys took his markers back, and walked Feyre to the door.

And yet still, she couldn’t quite walk out.

"So, I guess this is it," Feyre said. "Thank you for everything." She lingered. "You know, I still think we could be good friends, you and I."

Rhys put his hands on the top of the door frame and leaned against it. The hard muscles of his triceps and forearms framed his face, and the light from the shop spilled around him.

"I'll make you a bargain Feyre," he said. "When you're getting tattooed you're really vulnerable and it can be easy to latch on to people who make you feel safe. So, give it six months, and if you still want to be my friend, I would love that. Okay?"

Feyre nodded. "Okay."

She turned to go, but before she did, Rhys reached out one last question.

"Feyre?" She turned. "Are you going to be alright?"

And Feyre put on her very best smile, smoothed it over her face like lipstick, and tried to photograph him, there in the doorway, in her mind.

"I'll be alright," she told him. And she waved and walked home.

****

This is based on actual conversations that I had with my tattoo artist recently, and he assures me all of those jellyfish facts are true. Mind blowing stuff.

MASTERLIST

TAGLIST: @ghostlyrose2 @highladysith @stardelia @feysand-loml @tillyrubes10 @ratabrasileira @live-the-fangirl-life @maybekindasortaace @annejulianneh111 @thebonecarver @rowaelinismyotp @loosingdreams @whythefuckdoiexist @inejsarrow @swankii-art-teacher @sjmships @courtofjurdan @teddytdr @positivewitch @thalia-2-rose @darling-archeron @rapunzel1523 @fairchildjace @asteria-of-mars

#feysand #feysand fic #acotar #fluff #mine

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whisperlullaby · 4 years ago

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Just Say It And I’m Yours- Ch. 3

Summary: You and Steve are growing closer even inviting Bucky to your weekly pizza night, but when something happens at work you need their help before something bad happens.

Warnings: Mentions of Domestic violence, violence, cursing

A/N: Special thanks to @river-soul for betaing this for me. As with all of my work, if you are under 18 DNI please. If I missed any warnings please let me know!

It’s been one month since you started the job with the prosecutor's office, and although your caseload kept you busy Steve always made sure Friday nights were pizza nights. He told you he took your advice and put in for a leave of absence from The Avengers to get his head on straight. You swelled with pride knowing that a break would only help him come back a better person. On this particular Friday night, you were working late finishing up some paperwork on a domestic violence case that was going to court on Monday. You had set the victim up in a safehouse and gave her a burner cell to contact you if anything happened. It wasn’t a typical protocol for victim advocates to be that involved, but you couldn’t help feeling like something wasn’t right. As you were getting ready to leave there was a knock at your door.

“Come in,” you said while you packed up your desk.

Connor Pierce meandered into your office.

“Hey, there darling I was hoping to catch you.”

“Connor, I told you not to call me that,” you huffed. “What can I do for you?”

“Just thought I would let you know that my client made bail,” Connor said carefully.

You stopped breathing. Connor was representing the person who left your client for dead on the sidewalk outside their apartment after she ran late with his dinner.

“He was supposed to be in jail until the hearing. How did he make bail?” You seethed.

Connor sat in the chair in front of your desk and sighed. “I really have no idea. Off the record, I was kind of hoping he would rot in there for a few days, but I guess he has more pull than he led me to believe.”

You looked at Connor with your mouth agape. “Aren’t you supposed to be providing your clients the best representation?”

“Doesn’t mean I have to like them,” Connor smirked at you.

“Well, thanks for the heads up. Now, if you don’t mind I have to make a phone call.”

You pulled out your phone and started to call the safehouse. Connor stood up and placed a hand over your phone.

“It’s late, and there isn’t anything you can do. Why don’t I take you out to dinner? My treat.”

You pulled away from Connor and smiled. “It’s 5 o’clock, so not too late. Besides, I have plans tonight, which you know seeing as you ask me out every Friday and every Friday I tell you the same thing.”

He laughed and nodded his head. “You’ll go out with me eventually. I’m very persistent.”

“I’m sure you are sweetie, now if you’ll excuse me I have a phone call to make and plans to keep.”

You gestured for Connor to leave your office. Once he was gone you sent a text to your client to let her know about her husband making bail. When you left your office without a response you decided to call the safehouse.

“Hi, I’m calling about Ava Hendrix codeword: Sparrow. Her husband was released on bail and I am trying to get a hold of her.”

“Hello yes, Mrs. Hendrix left a few hours before curfew and hasn’t returned. We have been trying to get a hold of her too.”

Your stomach jumped into your throat. “Thank you. I’ll contact the authorities.”

You hung up with the safehouse and reached out to the police. Unfortunately, since there was no order of protection and Ava was an adult they were ‘unable to provide any assistance unless there was immediate danger.’ You called bullshit.

You took the steps to Steve’s apartment two at a time. When you got to his door you knocked frantically until he opened it.

“Jeeze, doll I know you love pizza but cool it with the knocking,” Steve teased before he saw your face and his smile dropped, “What’s going on?”

You pushed past Steve into his apartment. “I can’t find one of my clients and her dickbag husband made bail.”

You looked up and saw Bucky hovering around the counter next to the pizza. You squeezed your eyes shut and let out a small curse. You had forgotten that you invited Bucky to pizza night this week to help him relax after a particularly difficult mission. Shaking your head, you turned back to Steve.

“I need to find her Steve, he almost killed her.” You started shaking and Steve pulled you into a hug, rubbing soothing circles into your back.

“Okay, we’ll find her. Buck, can you call whoever isn’t on a mission for a personal favor?”

“Sure thing Stevie,” Bucky pulled out his phone and started making calls.

“I’m ruining pizza night. I forgot I invited Bucky this week. He was supposed to be relaxing after the mission, not be thrust into a new one.” You put your head in your hands as Steve chuckled.

“Don't worry about Bucky sweetheart, he's tough he'll manage.” Steve placed a gentle kiss to the top of your head, “Why don’t we take the pizza to go and drive around for a bit to see if we can spot her.”

“I would really like that Steve, thank you.”

You, Steve, and Bucky piled into Steve’s car. You had to admit you were shocked when you saw the clown car Steve drove. After effectively getting Bucky to agree to the backseat, you had to have a good view since you knew what Ava looked like, you gave Steve her old address thinking to start there.

“Could you move your seat up?” Bucky asked as he shifted around uncomfortably.

You whipped your head around, narrowing your eyes at Bucky, “We are in the middle of searching for a woman who is in serious danger and you're worried about leg room?”

Bucky stared at you for a minute before sliding over into the middle of the backseat. You turned around and caught his smirk in the rearview mirror. Your phone chirped and you saw a text from Ava’s burner phone. You sucked in a deep breath before opening it.

“Hi, sorry to worry you. I’m fine. I’m home and Derek is going to take care of me. Thanks for your help, see you on Monday.”

Tears pricked your eyes. “Steve, drive faster. He has her.”

You heard the whirring of Bucky’s metal arm and saw the tick in Steve’s jaw as he slammed on the gas. When you got to the apartment you could hear Ava screaming and things crashing. You whipped open the car door and bolted to the apartment before Steve fully stopped the car. You jiggled the handle but it was locked. You checked under the welcome mat to see if they kept a spare key and let out a breath of relief when you saw the copper key. Quickly opening the door you saw Ava huddled on the floor bleeding over shattered glass and Derek wielding a bat.

“Hey, asshole drop the bat!” You rushed at him and Derek took a swing at you, narrowly missing your head as you ducked.

“You’re that bitch who tried to hide my wife from me. This doesn’t concern you.” He lifted the bat over his head and you braced your arms over your face before you heard the bat drop and Derek cry out in pain.

You looked up and saw him clutching his shoulder where a knife was sticking out. Turning around you saw Bucky pull another knife from his holster and Steve stalking toward Derek with fire in his eyes. You crawled over to Ava who was thankfully still awake and called 911.

“You think it’s fun to hit women? Think it makes you a man?” Steve threw a punch and cracked Derek's nose, “How do you like getting his? Huh? Not so much fun when they’re not afraid of you?”

“Steve, stop, the police are coming and I don’t need him filing a report on you.”

Steve turned around and met your pleading eyes. He softened a bit before throwing Derek back on the ground. He came over to check you for any injuries before turning his attention to Ava. Bucky waited by the door as the sirens grew louder, twirling his knife as if to silently dare Derek to try something. Aside from a few cuts and bruises, Ava was fine.

When the police got there they put Derek in handcuffs as his attorney arrived. You glared at Connor as you waited with Ava who was being checked out by the paramedics. After telling her you would be right back to ride with her to the hospital, you made your way over to Connor.

“Don’t think he’s making bail this time,” you spat.

“Well since he broke the conditions of his release he’s being remanded until the trial,” Connor sighed. “I told you he made bail not only because it’s my job but because I thought something bad might happen.”

You glared at Connor who gave you a soft look.“Well, I think I’d like you more if you didn’t represent such complete scum.”

“I think I’d like me more too,” Connor admitted before walking away.

You felt a hand on your shoulder as you turned around to see Steve.

“Hey, doll, you okay?”

“I’m fine Steve. I’m really happy you and Bucky were here, who knows what would have happened if it wasn’t for you guys.” You gave him a shy smile.

“I’m glad for the opportunity for some target practice,” Bucky joked.

You laughed and gave him a hug that he tentatively returned. “You have perfect aim and you know it, Buck. I have to go get Ava to the hospital and finish my reports. Go enjoy your pizza, I’ll see you tomorrow for coffee Steve.”

You placed a kiss on Steve’s cheek and jogged back over to the ambulance. Before you were out of earshot you caught Bucky talking to Steve.

“I like her, Stevie. She reminds me of you.”

“Yeah, I like her too,” Steve said wistfully.

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x you #steve rogers x y/n #steve rogers series #tw domestic violence

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