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leebrontide · 1 year ago

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Secondhand Origin Stories, Chapter 8

Here's this week's chapter! Reblogs welcome!

For those of you just joining us, I'm posting a chapter a week of my free near future scifi/low neon cyberpunk YA/NA novel, Secondhand Origin Stories, which has been described as

"-a character driven, compelling story full of family, queerness, corruption, brain altering nanites, secretly teen parenting AIs, and taking aspects of the superhero genre to their very human and rarely-explored natural conclusions."

For content warnings and more, check here:

You can follow along by following #SHOSweekly

Chapter 8

Issac was sure he had a pad of paper around here somewhere. That was a thing desks contained. Pads of paper. He must have had a reason to use one at least once in his life. His tablet was on the desk, and it lit up. He tried to read it without looking like he noticed it.

MARTIN: Issac, why do you keep going to Jenna’s old apartment?

Issac couldn’t explain, so he kept rummaging. If he told Martin what he was planning, Martin wouldn’t be able to keep quiet. One of his most central protocols was to protect Issac, Yael, and Jamie. He couldn’t out and out disobey certain codes of conduct.

This wasn’t Martin’s first message about this. But he hadn’t kept Issac out, either.

No good. Issac did not, himself, own a pad of paper. He tried the kitchen. He’d made it through three drawers before he noticed Jamie, frozen on the far side of the room like he’d caught her with her hand in his wallet. Because she had her guitar with her.

So he was even screwing up Jamie. She’d put in years of practice and gotten damn good, and now she thought she couldn’t even be seen carrying a guitar in front of him. He wondered if Dad would try to hide the grand piano in his apartment. Maybe Issac would just never set foot inside Dad’s apartment again.

That was a possibility.

Success. A sheet of paper and a pen.

He turned it over-- there was writing along the back. A quick scan showed it was one of Mom’s camping plans. In Chicago, she was all printed suits and perfect hair, but once a year or so, she’d disappear into some woods somewhere to “live off the land” for a couple weeks. She went all out-- hunted or foraged her own food-- the whole nine yards. But it was still Mom, so the plan was neatly printed and had a date at the top. Looked like she was planning a trip. Trying to get away from the mess inside?

No…this list was supplies for two people, not one. And didn’t note anything being extra large. Jamie and camping just didn’t mix.

Which meant she was planning to invite Issac onto her wilderness adventure. Let him get out of the tower.

He’d gone with her once before. It lasted too long, and he didn’t have a taste for hunting, but actually…it had been nice, overall. She always said those trips cleared her head.

If this all went wrong, she’d hate him forever.

He headed out to the courtyard, ignoring Jamie as much as he’d been ignoring Martin. He stopped dead. There were a bunch of people in the courtyard. Sweaty, burly strangers in dusty pants. Oh, and hard hats. The construction workers. Of course.

OK. OK, that was fine. Issac looked OK. As long as he focused on only one thing at a time so he wouldn’t freak himself out, he was OK. This didn’t change his plan. He’d accounted for strangers in Jenna’s place. Turning a gaping hole into an empty shell. He didn’t need that room anymore anyway.

Instead, he slipped into the central column between the elevators, shutting the door carefully behind him. Just like a human, Martin couldn’t see into the center of himself. Without a tablet, Issac was safely out from under Martin’s eyes when he was sitting essentially inside Martin’s brain.

Issac made a complete loop around the server column to make sure he was alone, then sat with his back against the door, so no one could surprise him.

He braced the paper on his knees.

This was not a suicide note. He had to keep reminding himself of that. This was a strictly worse-case-scenario backup. More like a will. Adults kept a will even when they weren’t dying. So it wasn’t half as morbid as it seemed.

It wasn’t how he would have planned to spend the morning of his 18th birthday, but he couldn’t test his nanites without getting this done first. Just in case.

He didn’t address it. If this letter got found, his family would know it was for them.

He stared at the blank yellow and delicate blue lines of the page, Mom’s plan faintly visible from the other side.

How the hell did you write something like this? Maybe it was better to not overthink it?

He put pen to paper.

If you’re reading this, then I failed and I’m sorry. I really did try.

Dad, Drew, Jenna. I know you’ll all understand. It’s practically a family tradition to take a risk like this, right? Jamie, I know you would if you could.

He stopped his pen just before he could ask them to keep the others from hating him. That was probably too much to ask.

I want everyone to know I knew the risks and chose this anyway.

Issac’s hands were freezing. Was the AC on overdrive, or was that just his circulatory system panicking?

Never mind. That didn’t matter. He’d said enough about himself. He had to get to the important part.

I need you all to know something. Martin is a PERSON. He’s been growing and developing for years, and now he’s a real, sentient synthetic intelligence. He’s self-aware. He has feelings. They’re not exactly like ours, but they map out pretty well. And he loves us. We’re his family. Please, I need you all to take care of him. He’s not legally a “person” so he hasn’t got any rights. People could destroy him. Or worse, they could take him apart. They could section out his mind and take away who he is and he’d know. He’d be aware of it. You remember “Flowers for Algernon”? Like that. God that story creeped me out. Even before Jenna.

Why did you make me read that book?

He crossed out the last sentence. They wouldn’t be able to answer him.

Don’t let them make him like Jenna. Please, make sure they never do that. He really loves you all! And he’s never told me anybody’s secrets, I swear. He does his job like everyone else in the family, but without sleeping or stopping for even a second. If I’m dead, I know you’ll be thinking about memorials. This is what I want. Bury my research if you want, since it didn’t work. I don’t care. All I want is for all of you to take care of Martin. Please.

I’m sorry I never told you.

It wasn’t a good letter. It wouldn’t be any comfort to them. But it should be enough to protect Martin. Which was fine, because this wasn’t a suicide note. He shoved away years’ worth of unanswered questions, unvoiced thoughts, and feelings that you just didn’t talk about on a day-to-day basis. If he wrote any of that, this would become something else.

Issac wouldn’t die.

He almost for sure wouldn’t die.

He shut his eyes. His hands were definitely shaking now. He balled them into fists, shoved them between his legs and his body, and curled in on himself, trying to make them stop. He could do this. He just had to believe in himself. Just stay the course, like the generation before him. They’d all made it through. And Issac must have something of his dad in him, right? Their resemblance was more than skin deep. It had to be.

Something touched his butt. He flung himself away from that creepy crawling sensation, like a huge bug.

Skittles landed on her back half a foot away from where he’d been sitting. She flipped back over in an instant and flattened herself under the door, back out into the courtyard, before Issac could even process what had happened.

He threw the door open, but Skittles was long gone. A construction worker stopped to give him a funny look.

Issac shut himself back in the central corridor and let himself collapse back down against the carpet. He was so tired of freaking out over every single thing that startled him.

He scrawled Yael, Skittles was alive and in the central hub at about 9:15 this morning. Start your search there. Then he folded up the note, crammed it in his pocket, and turned to the control hatch.

For this, he’d have to turn off Martin’s sensors and communication. But this time, he’d set them to come back on after two hours. By the end of the day, Martin, at least, would be back to normal.

* * *

Jamie couldn’t believe Issac had talked Mom into going in to work today. She almost wanted to be mad at Mom about it. How could Mom choose today to physically check in at work?

Mom went to work because Issac seemed to be doing so much better. He was up and moving around, working and eating, doing everything he should. He’d been faking normal astonishingly well since he’d gotten Yael and Jamie to agree to his plan. He’d told Mom she should go, so Mom was showing Issac she trusted him.

Just like Jamie was.

On his stupid birthday.

She tasted bile, and ignored it. She focused on the view outside-- there was a stunning thunderstorm rolling in from the distance. Ordinarily she’d park herself on the couch until it passed, and watch the jewels of the city lights scatter across wet pavement between flashes of lightning. It would be a big one. The foot she’d broken climbing a tree as a kid ached sharply.

Yael came in, trying so hard to be nonchalant xe was setting new standards in conspicuousness. Xe was even wearing a traffic-cone orange shirt. Xe looked around. “Are we--”

“Alone.” Jamie confirmed. “Issac’s in his bedroom, setting up. The sensors are already off.”

Yael started a short, pacing loop. “Tell me you think this is a bad idea.”

This is an incredibly bad idea. “I mean, I’m not exactly excited about it--”

“Excited about it? ‘Brilliant scientist defies international regulations and develops secret altering technology to test on himself’? We know this story! This building exists because of that exact story.”

“More because of altereds threatening other people--” Jamie started.

“There wouldn’t even be so many altereds if those scientists hadn’t used other people like lab rats so they could get ready for their own alteration--”

“But Issac’s only risking himself. He’s not even trying to be altered. He’s just trying to be normal again.”

“His nanites could be so easily misused--”

“All the more reason to keep them secret,” Jamie argued.

“Even from the APB?” Yael challenged.

“Especially from them!” Jamie shot back with venom. She couldn’t stand to think of Issac falling into APB hands, now. She’d looked up information about how deaf people fared in prisons. There was no way she would ever let that happen to Issac.

Yael stopped mid-pace. “Since when do you distrust our home?”

“They’re not our home. They’re, at most, our neighbors. And since I looked into what they’re really doing.”

“What they’re-- you know what they’re doing! All our parents work for them, and have, for longer than you’ve been alive.”

“If you’d read what I’ve been reading--”

Issac walked into the living room, booting up his tablet. “I’m ready.” Jamie felt like the leaden announcement should have been followed by a window-rattling thunder clap. But the storm was still too distant, and the pressure wouldn’t break for a while yet.

Jamie looked at Yael with deliberate challenge in her eyes. “Are you going to tell?”

Issac looked at Yael, hurt and alarm radiating from every feature. Jamie could see his expression hit xyr, and xe buckled. “No. I won’t tell.”

Issac relaxed a tiny bit, and headed back to his room. Jamie and Yael followed wordlessly.

He sat on his bed, and started opening little bandage-like packages. Inside, there were small, transparent squares veined with circuits and wires, sticky on one side. He arranged them on different spots on his head as he spoke, not looking at them or his tablet.

Issac’s voice shook, but his tone suggested he didn’t know it. “Right, for you two it’s pretty simple. Yael, watch the door and keep anyone else from getting in. Jamie, you’re a failsafe. If I have a seizure lasting more than four minutes and the system doesn’t automatically power down, you just hit this red button right here. Easy.”

Jamie goggled. “What?”

He paused to read as he sat down, then glared at her. “What? It’s just pushing a button and reading time. At most. You can do that.”

Yael balked, too. “You never said anything about seizures.”

Issac shrugged nervously. “Just a possible side effect of additional electrical charge. It’ll ride itself out.”

Jamie covered her face with her hands, tasting bile again, feeling the acid of it against her throat. Don’t throw up. This was no time for throwing up. Issac needed her. When she pulled her eyes back up, Issac seemed to be done with the sensor stickers, and held a little vial of gray dust. She watched in stunned horror as he tipped it into his ear. Her heart hammered in her throat.

Yael blanched, as shocked as Jamie by the suddenness of it. Xe pressed xyr back to the door. Xe looked to Jamie, but Jamie had nothing but her own shock to mirror back. “I’ll…get to my post,” xe said, and slipped out.

Jamie was left alone with Issac. He lay back on the bed, a display on an adjustable arm above his face. He poked buttons on his homemade software.

He ignored her as she pulled over his desk chair and sat. His translation software wasn’t available to him, now. And he’d never come to even one ASL lesson. She couldn’t talk to him. Reasoning with him was impossible, and way too late.

She repositioned his alarm clock. In case she needed it.

Half an hour passed with him fiddling with his own brain. Plenty of time for her to consider how badly this could go. How even the best case scenario would enrage their parents beyond all reason. How she’d never really asked him to go into detail about possible worst case scenarios.

She couldn’t stop thinking about Jenna. Jenna had been the smartest person in the building for most of Jamie’s life. In any crisis, she was calm, collected, and usually ready with a snappy comeback that broke the tension in the room. She remembered Jenna with her face streaked with frustrated tears as she struggled with remembering how the microwave worked. Coughing through smoke because of another dinner burnt hopelessly, but refusing to leave the microwave as she tried over and over to figure it out. How mad Jenna got every time someone tried to help.

If this went badly, would Issac be like that? Scraping furiously at limitations he’d never had before? Refusing help?

The storm still didn’t break. She couldn’t look out the window to check on it. She watched her brother.

Issac chewed his lower lip, staring at the screen, looking for some pattern or indicator Jamie wouldn’t understand. For a while, it seemed like nothing was happening. Jamie started to hope that the nanites were totally nonfunctional. Maybe Issac could try again later, with more testing, and someone better to help him than Jamie.

In tiny increments, Issac’s expression started to change. First, it looked like he was in pain. But it wasn’t enough to make him break his focus. He kept inputting commands into the program. Then, he was breathing hard, and starting to sweat. His hands started shaking, just slightly. He’d push a few buttons, and wait. Then push some more buttons, and wait, reading the display in front of him. She couldn’t ask questions.

Issac’s whole body jerked, arching backwards. He made a straining, strangled noise. Jamie got up on her knees, reaching for him, trying to see what was wrong.

"No!" Issac gulped, pushing himself jerkily back into his previous position. "It’s fine. Just a couple went astray. It’s fine." He did not sound fine. His teeth were gritted and his hands were twitching strangely. He reached for the screen, but his hand jerked off course and hit a different part of the touchscreen. "No. Blue button. Hit the--” Jamie rushed to obey, hitting the blue button he’d been reaching for. Issac reached for the display screen again. His breathing was heavily labored. This didn’t look right. A nerve for hearing shouldn’t do this.

He hit another series of buttons, and watched the screen. Then more buttons, and more watching. His hands were still shaking, but not jerking anymore. Jamie settled back onto the chair again, staring at Issac as hard as she could, as if watching him hard enough could protect him. According to the clock, this continued for another agonizing 20 minutes. Issac staring, twitching, and punching buttons on the screen while Jamie’s eyes dried out, both of them turning damp with sour-smelling sweat.

The twitches were getting worse. She started counting, timing them. Issac’s leg spasmed a couple times, but he didn’t say anything further to Jamie. Didn’t even seem to remember that Jamie was there. Jamie tried not to think about throwing up. She couldn’t afford that distraction. Issac sucked a breath noisily through his teeth. Jamie couldn’t be sure if that was an effect of the procedure or just plain fear. Or pain. Jamie wasn't breathing so well, either, and the sound of the two of them struggling for oxygen was only making things worse for Jamie.

Then, reaching for the screen, Issac’s hand froze. Jamie looked back to his face. His eyes rolled back in his head and partly closed. His whole body spasmed and constricted, arching painfully. A seizure. Jamie’s heart stopped.

She grabbed the screen to turn it off. To use the kill switch.

But Issac had said not to. To time it. How long had it been so far? A second? An hour? Was it already too late? Jamie swallowed, hard. No, it couldn’t have been more than a couple of seconds. There was a clock embedded in the screen. Jamie forced herself to stare at it, to not look at Issac. The clock didn’t move. Why not? Was it broken? Was there something wrong with time? Had time stopped?

After an eternity, the digits switched. A second. She had been staring at it for a second.

She was supposed to wait for four minutes.

She looked over at Issac. If she turned it off now, instead of waiting, Issac wouldn’t know. She could turn it off. She could turn it off right now. Issac was still twitching, his body arching and contorting unnaturally. There was saliva at the corner of his mouth.

Jamie looked back at the screen. Another two seconds had passed. What was wrong with time all of a sudden?

She could turn this off. She could.

She didn’t.

She waited.

30 seconds.

A minute.

Two minutes. Issac was starting to turn blue. Could he breathe like this? Could his lungs move any better than his spine, his hands? Could his heart?

Two and a half minutes.

Three minutes. Getting bluer. All the red was drained from his face, leaving only white, and that awful blue at his lips.

Three and a half. What if he was dead? What if he was just twitching because of nanites and electricity, and he was already dead? Other than the twitching, he looked dead. Like the corpse of somebody who’d died in agony.

What if she was sitting here, watching Issac die, and not doing anything?

Three and a quarter. Jamie broke. She pushed the kill switch as hard as she could. Her finger punctured the thin film, distorting the image hopelessly.

Had it worked? Did it turn off? Her vision swam-- from tears or panic, she couldn’t tell. “Yael! Yael it went wrong get help get an ambulance get Mom or Dad or--!” She heard a shuffling, then rapid pounding, as Yael took off running.

She looked over at Issac. No change. Still blue. Still twitching. Jamie felt a whimper escape her throat. She let go of the screen.

She stared at her brother. She couldn’t bring herself to understand what she was seeing. Her mind shut down rather than comprehend that this was Issac, dying or dead, right next to her. That there was nothing she could do. It was too late.

Why had she waited so long? Why had she helped him with this stupid plan?

She felt lightheaded, and realized that she was holding her breath along with her brother. Could his hand still be twitching like that if he was dead?

The handle to Issac’s bedroom door embedded in the wall with a bang. She didn’t even jump. Dad rushed to Issac, just in time for Issac to go limp. Used-up air left him in a gust. She felt, more than heard, the whimper in the back of her throat.

Dad had never looked like this before. She couldn’t think of any word but desperate. His hands reached for Issac’s throat, his wrist, looking for a pulse. Jamie remembered dimly how he’d complained before that pulses were hard for the sensors on his hands to pick up. It’d been a problem in the field. Jamie hadn’t checked for a pulse. She’d forgotten. She’d messed up. Of course she should have checked for a pulse.

Then, Drew was there, shoving Dad away, replacing sensors with nerves. They held their breaths together. Drew's pronouncement was sharp, decisive. “He’s alive.”

Jamie exhaled. Dad’s head hung forward in what would have been relief if the rest of him hadn’t been almost shaking with tension.

MARTIN’s voice sounded from a far hallway where it was still active. “EMTs on the way up.”

Drew looked at Jamie, and she fought not to recoil. “What happened.”

“He…the nanites. But it…it went wrong.” Her voice was shaking, so thin it was barely there.

Dad made a noise like he was choking. He was still kneeling by Issac. He'd taken Issac’s other limp wrist in his hand, still looking for the pulse Drew had found, trying to feel it himself. He rested one hand on Issac’s chest. Jamie strained to see it rise and fall. Drew had said he was alive, and Drew would never make a mistake about that, but she wanted to see it.

"Don't. Your hand's too heavy--” Drew picked Dad’s hand up, and Dad let him, but he didn't move from crouching over Issac, sitting on the cusp of the bed.

Jamie could hear Yael from a distance-- a greater distance than she'd have thought possible. Miles away, at least. "Through here! He's in here!"

EMTs appeared with swift, professional precision. One of them tried to get Dad to move. His back was to Jamie, blocking her view of her dad, but she saw the EMT jerk back away from him.

"Neil! Move!" Drew barked. "Give them room to work."

Dad rose, dazed, and moved back several paces. The EMTs swarmed. Jamie lost track of anyone not around Issac’s bed. Then she lost track of what they were saying.

Issac was given oxygen, and transferred to a gurney. Nobody else moved.

Then they started to move Issac. Dad tried to follow. Drew stepped in. "Neil, sit down. You look like you're gonna pass out. I'll go with him. Take a minute to breathe, then come downstairs. OK? Don't pass out on the stretcher. That's bad."

Dad's posture shifted, angry, but his voice still seemed distant. "I can't not--"

Drew held his ground. "You're going to. Get your head on straight, then come. You remember how you were when Mel was in labor? We're not doing that again. Sit. Breathe. Then come." Drew left with the EMTs. Dad stayed.

That was the first time Jamie noticed Yael, xyr huge bulk tucked near the door, gripping xyr own arms and looking lost.

Dad turned and walked slowly to Issac’s bed, to sit in the tangle of blue and white bedding. He stared at the floor, the upper half of his body bent forward and down. His eyes were red, wide, and blind to everything, his face as pale as Issac’s had been. Slowly, his eyes slid up the floor to the door of Issac’s room. He blinked a few times, as if he was waking up.

Jamie wanted to wake up. Wanted this to all be a bad dream, warning her not to go forward with Issac’s plan. There was nothing she wanted more than to wake up and run to Mom or Dad and tell them everything, bureau be damned.

But when Dad woke up, just like Jamie, he was still here. The punctured display still hung above the overturned chair.

For one terrifying moment, Jamie thought he was going to cry. His chin trembled.

In the span of a breath, everything that seemed about to shake apart turned to granite.

His eyes moved to Jamie, and she froze. His voice was the thunder that had been hanging in the distance all day. “What happened."

Jamie couldn't speak, couldn't even swallow. She couldn't bring herself to tell him. What Issac had done, what he'd told her. What she'd sat by and let happen. Her guilt lodged in her throat, and she couldn't breathe.

Her dad was one of the fastest people alive. He was standing over her before Jamie'd realized he'd moved. The thunder was right over her head. "What happened. What did you do."

Jamie’d never seen him look at anyone the way he was looking at her now, bloodshot eyes locked on hers. He seemed impossibly huge. Unstoppable. "What did you do,"” he demanded. His voice was raising-- louder, but lower. She could swear it shook the floor.

He came towards her-- too fast. Jamie was rooted in place.

Then Yael was there, between them, shoving him back. "Stay away from her!"

"I told you to keep your fucking hands off me!" Dad roared back. He stepped forward. Yael's hand shot out, grabbing him. Jamie didn’t understand how anything could be bigger than Dad, but Yael loomed over him.

But xe couldn't force him back. He braced his feet. Marble tile cracked underneath them. Jamie could hear Yael strain. "Don’t. Touch. Her."

"I said move!"

Something cracked. Not marble. Something muffled.

Jamie wanted to shout, too. To tell them to stop. Why were they doing this? She didn't trust herself to move a hair. She felt dizzy.

They shifted, moved just enough for Jamie to get a clear view of what was happening. Yael’s face was contorted with rage. Any tears were trapped inside the blackened silver encasing xyr. One hand gripped Dad’s shoulder, the other gripped his other arm.

Jamie knew her dad had killed people. She'd never seen it. This must be what he would look like when he did it. He pushed Yael. Almost seemed to be winning. Xe surged forward again, just enough to clamp xyr hand onto his shoulder. Xe twisted xyr thumb, and Jamie heard a second sickening crack as his flesh indented all wrong. Dad didn't even flinch.

Too much. The world, far away a second ago, suddenly crowded in against her. Something in Jamie snapped. Shrill and breathless as her voice was, it was loud. “Enough!”

Fighter’s reflexes meant they both saw Jamie draw her gauntlet on them the moment she’d done it. “Stop right now!” she commanded. “No more fighting or I drop you both! This isn’t helping Issac!”

Solomon appeared at the edge of Jamie’s vision, but stopped at the sight of them. “Yael, go with your dad. Dad, sit down.”

Solomon took that for an order, and moved to pull Yael away from Dad. Jamie still felt lightheaded. Her eyes were starting to swim with tears, but when they cleared, Solomon had both hands on Yael and was dragging xyr away. Xe wasn’t fighting, but xe kept xyr gleaming metal eyes on Dad, and Dad watched xyr with all the fury of a force of nature in his own dark eyes. Dad didn’t sit.

Once Yael was out of the room, Jamie's knees buckled under her, and she went down. She clutched her stomach, trying for a split second to fight the inevitable as her mouth filled with saliva.

She grabbed the wastepaper basket next to Issac’s desk. Barely in time. There wasn't much-- breakfast had been beyond her today, but her body shuddered with the force of pushing up stomach acid. She fought it, desperately grabbing for control of her own body, but every time she came close, she lost immediately.

Just as she thought she might be winning, she looked up enough to see Dad, walking out the door.

* * *

Papa’s grip was a vice around xyr wrist, pulling xyr through the courtyard, through their own front door. Dimly, xe knew that if xe tried, xe could shake him off. He wasn’t any stronger than Yael. Without using major violence, he couldn’t physically make Yael do anything. Xe still couldn’t believe that he would.

But xe couldn’t make xyrself pull out of his grip, either. Xe needed to go after Issac, but xe was too scared to do it.

Once they were isolated, Papa pulled xyr arm around, making xyr face him. He looked as betrayed as xe felt, but his reasons were all wrong. He didn’t let go of xyr. “What were you thinking?! What in God’s name were you thinking!”

“You don’t even know what’s going on!” Xe shot back.

Yael didn’t want this fight. Xe was already so mad at Neil, and Issac, and xyrself, even a little bit at Jamie. A note of pleading bled through the anger in xyr voice, begging him to understand. To help. “He was attacking Jamie!”

He closed his eyes, physically blocking the truth as he shook his head. “He was not. He wouldn’t. The only attacker here was you! How could you do this?”

Xe snapped xyr wrist out of his grip. Xe took a step back. He wasn’t going to help.

“And put that away,” Papa commanded. He meant xyr silver. Xyr protection.

Xyr inheritance.

Xyr voice rumbled through xyr, slow and cold. “I see. I get it, now. You can’t see the betrayal right in front of you because you’re too busy seeing the betrayal you’ve always expected.”

Papa’s eyes widened, and he scrambled for denial. “No. I expected better of you.” He was always, always so bad at lying. It hurt.

“I wish I believed you. A month ago, a week ago, I would have tried. You don’t trust me enough to talk to my own uncle. You can’t even talk to me about my own parents.”

His breath came up short, but he was too proud to move his feet away from xyr.

Xe stepped towards him. His knees bent as if to step back, but he held his ground. He was a hero. Which meant Yael had to be something else. Xe’d made a vow to xyrself, for him, years ago. But that was when Yael dreamed of being a hero. Back when xe trusted him and his promises of what xe could be. It was as if xe could feel that promise and xyr vow splinter in xyr hands.

This shapeshift was so much easier than any other. All xe had to do was lean on xyr own features and the memories of old, secretly-studied news clips and articles.

First, xe resurrected Ezekiel's body and face. He was the easiest. Xe had his hair.

It was so much easier than mimicking Papa’s features.

Papa lost his footing, staggering backwards. Xe could see greyed sunlight reflecting off of Yael in his eyes. He gasped as if xe’d slammed xyr fist into him.

Papa had said, just once, that Ezekiel’s temper was at his beck and call, like a guard dog. So Yael had found another inheritance waiting for xyr, today. There was a leashed beast, waiting for its chance, behind xyr words. “Who is it you think you’re talking to?”

His voice actually shook. Xe’d never heard that, before. “Yael, stop that. Now.”

“No. I want to know who you see when you look at me. Who do you think you’re looking at when you’re afraid to give me even a glimmer of contact with the ones who made me.”

Xe reset, leaning on the other half of xyr features. Putting Miriam in front of him. Xe forced xyr shield away to test the other option. “Who are you so afraid of me becoming that you can’t stand to look at me when I use their powers?”

Horror was painted plainly in Papa’s face. Xe saw his legs shifting, could practically smell how badly he wanted to run.

Pain pressed in around the anger in Yael's voice. “Who are you so afraid of?”

He had no answer. His eyes searched xyr face. Or Miriam's.

Xe shut xyr eyes. “If you can’t handle raising their child then you shouldn’t have tried!”

Xe kept xyr eyes squeezed shut for as long as xe could stand to. Bracing for…for something. Denial. Reprimand. Anything. Xe forced xyr eyes open. Papa’s whole body canted away from xyr, frozen except for rapid, shallow breaths and the tiny, alarmed, assessing flicks of his eyes. He watched xyr as if xe really was a beast that might tear him apart.

Xe wanted to hide from it. But xe was too furious to allow that. Xe was on the right side of this. Xe wouldn’t bend.

Yael drew xyrself up, as tall as xe could be, and built an icy veneer for xyr voice. “Unlike you, I’m going to stand by my siblings against anyone who threatens them. That includes their makers, and it includes you. Think what you want about me. But I’m loyal. More than you ever were.”

Head held high, xe turned, and walked deliberately, without any rush, to xyr room, shutting the door deliberately and quietly behind xyr. This was no tantrum. This was an oath.

Xe leaned heavily against the shut door, using xyr own body as a barricade in case he followed. He didn’t.

After a long, numb minute, xe realized xe was shaking. Xe looked down at xyr hands, but couldn’t make them steady.

A sensation washed from fingertip to shoulder. It was a visceral memory. Muscle, sinew, and bone replayed the memory of Neil’s bone cracking, then shattering in three wet pops under xyr thumb. Xe could feel the muscle of his shoulder jump in pain under xyr fingertips.

Yael shuddered, flexing xyr hand. Tightening it into a ball. Flexing it again. Trying to shake out the sensation. Praying the other memory xyr hands held wouldn’t follow. Xe held it in xyr other hand, pressing it against xyr own chest, and was briefly disoriented at the too-large breasts under xyr arm.

Miriam's body. Xe shifted back, feeling the strain and pull of shifting too quickly. Xe didn’t want to be Miriam. Xe didn’t want to be Ezekiel. Right now, xe didn’t even want to be Yael.

* * *

Opal still got nervous every single time she had to come to Sentinel Plaza, even through the back door. She was mostly fine once she was inside, but she always expected security to stop her. Today, just like the times before, everyone ignored her. Well, given their security system, maybe they just assumed she couldn’t do any damage.

Today, she had to go the public floors of the APB after her lessons, so she’d worn the suit Mom and Auntie gave her. It was a good suit, and Auntie had tailored it to fit Opal perfectly. With her makeup on, she thought she looked a solid 25. Maybe that would make her feel less shaky about going to her “check-in” appointment this afternoon. If she put it off any longer, she’d get questioned about it when she did come in. “Checking in” might not be mandatory, but it was expected, and you could get refused prompt medical help if you didn’t. Aldis’s guys had already warned her that the presence of plenty of other Detroit Line altereds didn’t make any difference in this unofficial rule.

The whole creepy thing with the crate hadn’t really made her want to rush into that clinic.

She felt better once she was in the empty back lobby. Just her, the cameras she couldn’t see but knew were here somewhere, and the elevator. “Private floors, please.”

The system responded with the same calm, machine voice as always. Sounded a bit like her mom’s old phone, actually. “I am sorry, but the lesson today has been canceled.”

Opal frowned. “The fighting lesson was canceled. Xe didn’t say anything about ASL class.”

“I apologize for Yael’s lack of precision. However, class is indeed canceled for today.”

She sighed heavily. Wasn’t it weird that Jamie or Yael weren’t the ones to tell her this? It was either suspicious or rude. The thing with the crate was days ago. If they were cutting her off because she saw too much, they would have done it already, right? “What, did I piss them off somehow?”

It wasn’t the kind of question she expected a computer to answer. But it understood her objection, even if it didn’t seem able to detect rhetorical questions. “There has been a family emergency. Ms. Meade and Ms. Tillman-Voss are indisposed.”

Her eyebrows inched upwards. She found herself tilting her face upwards to where the speakers likely were. “Is everyone all right?”

“No. But there isn’t anything you can do about that.”

A weirdly specific judgment call from a machine. “Well, I’d feel better hearing that from a person.”

“I do not intend to interrupt the family at this time.”

Opal sighed, leaning against the elevator. “Right.” She looked up again. “So you have, like, etiquette protocol and stuff, then. Based on people’s moods, instead of just concrete circumstances. That’s pretty cool.” She tilted her head. “Or do they just say ‘private mode’ or something?”

“I alter my actions based on the apparent or likely emotional states of the people affected.”

“Cool,” she repeated halfheartedly. The storm that had been threatening all morning chose that moment to break, sending sheets of water pounding against the doors. She groaned. She didn’t even know if she could take these elevators to the clinic floor. They’d only ever taken her to the Sentinels’ home. She was going to get her nice suit all soggy and cold. At least she wasn’t working for Aldis today. “You’re not going to call security on me if I hang out here a minute, are you? I want to see if I can get a break in the storm before I have to go around the front.” Her stupid appointment wasn’t for three hours.

“You do not pose any meaningful threat, so no.”

“Thanks,” she said automatically. She dropped her duffel bag of workout clothes on the floor, then leaned her back against the cool metal of the elevator door. “You won’t tell me about the nature of the family emergency, will you?”

“No.”

“Right. Guess that’s fair.” She pulled off her blazer, setting it on her lap. “That’s pretty impressive that people as uh…cautious, as the Sentinels, are OK with you making judgment calls about security, discretion, all that. You must be pretty ahead of the curve.”

“I was built by Dr. Jennifer Waterhouse for this purpose. They trust her work.”

“How long have you been running?”

“Approximately eight years.”

“So you’re like…what. A third grader.” She grinned. “Can’t say I’d trust too many eight-year-olds with my safety. You must have a good track record.”

“Mostly. I have been known to make some very flawed decisions.” Its voice was as calm and impassive as ever, but the answer struck her. It sounded guilty. She felt bad for it, as nonsensical as that was.

“Oh. Well, we all make mistakes, right? I know I have.”

“True omniscience is not attainable, and even if it were, conflicts of values would make perfect decision making impossible.”

She laughed a little. That sounded like something she would have attempted to say when she was eight. “Preach.” Oh shit. “Oh…oh. The jet attack?”

“No. That was beyond my control.”

“Right. Sorry. Not my business anyways.”

“May I ask you a personal question?” the ceiling asked. Apparently, even the lobby of this place brought surreal experiences into Opal’s life.

“Sure?”

“Following a major mistake, what is your course of action?”

Her brow furrowed again. “That’s a very…human question.” No answer. “OK. Well, I guess apologizing and trying to fix things is usually a good start. Do computers apologize?”

“I can. Few would interpret it as sincere.”

This conversation was getting weirder. “I guess that’s true.” She paused, feeling a little foolish. “You are really passing the Turing test right now. To an impressive degree.”

“Thank you.”

“Well, I guess you’re stuck with trying to fix it then.”

“That is not an option.”

“Then I don’t know what to tell you, buddy. But if you were apologizing to me, I think I’d believe you.”

Another pause. “Thank you. I will tell Jamie you were here. These elevators can bring you to the clinic directly, if you’d like.”

Opal pushed herself to her feet. “Really? Thanks, Martin. You’re a pal. I don’t want to get all my makeup rained off.”

The elevator door opened. “My pleasure, Ms. Flynn.”

“Call me Opal.”

“Thank you, Opal.” The doors closed. She was sure the voice from the elevator was quieter, now. Not distant, but sad. “And good luck.”

#SHOSweekly

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perriedoestheirbest · 10 months ago

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Pin post cause I wanna set ground rules before I do anything on here

Updated: 11/4/2024 :3

I spell things wrong and grammar is atrocious but please remember I am doing my best as my user handler suggests

Make sure to read the DNI part, that part’s important

I will give you a gold star if you manage to get through this

You ready? Mkay.

🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀

- Main info

Hi! I’m perry, it’s short for Peregrine :3

I’m a minor

I change a buncha stuff nothing is final

I follow and like interact with likes from my main but I ALWAYS reblog before any of that.

I don’t rlly like the idea of ppl finding my main but those who dig enough, it’s not hard to find.

I support Palestine so already off the bat if you don’t like it, you can leave. I try to keep this a positive space but stuff like supporting Palestine are important no matter the situation. I previously said I’d make a mini post for links on how to support the cause but this is an agere account, and I felt like that’d be too uptight. Still, Free Palestine. No matter the blog. :>

I study psychology and some history for fun.

I really enjoy theories, analyzing things, and headcanons

I usually enjoy horror but in this blog, this is my safe spot where I can take a breather from that stuff cause it’s nice to take a break every once in a while :]

Please be patient with me :>

I find a lot of comfort in nostalgia so I’ll either reblog stim boards or stuff from early 2010’s. Rarely anything else but I’ll indulge in art and fanfiction too if it’s safe for work.

I’m still pretty clueless about the tagging system and will mess up so telling me about it helps loads

I’m trans, transmasc, and genderfluid, I go by he/him or they/them, and I’m also on the a-spec!^^

This blog was originally made for Agere, but because I’m unfamiliar with Agere accounts on tumblr especially it’s gonna take me a hot minute to really post anything, and I most likely won’t.

I do dream regression (idk if that’s the correct term, I’m still new to this). I try to actually regress but it’s hard, so I don’t have much of a small age. I’m still a minor, but my big age IS 10+

I’m interested in the indie film industry, and I enjoy art :3

🌙🌙🌙🌙🌙

- Extra info

My favorite color is pink! :]

I believe cringe culture is dead

I enjoy lemon demon and jack stauber and I make references of them a LOT.

I enjoy over analyzing everything so I’ll mostly reblog headcanons

This blog is completely sfw.

I like to ramble a lot, and tend to do so in tags

I enjoy mixed media of all kinds :>

I’m multifandom

I’m a multishipper, but I don’t usually ship in the fandoms I’m in due to creepy ships I come across so the ships I do enjoy are either very popular or never once heard of

I’m pretty inactive, and this is because I struggle with pretty bad social anxiety that tends to stop me from interacting with any sign of human life, but because I’m trying to cope, I’ll do my best

I’m a radical inclusionist so this is pretty much a safe space if you want it to be one

I’m an older brother

I’m also really weird

I might attempt to draw but I won’t draw often.

Cringe culture is pretty much dead and whoever is keeping cringe culture alive are clearly people who don’t belong on this blog or my main blog either

DMs are ALWAYS ALWAYS ALWAYS closed, again, I’m a minor and I’m uncomfortable interacting with strangers especially on the internet, if I DM you it’s either on accident or because I know you irl

I don’t talk much while I’m in this partial headspace so I don’t talk much. There won’t be much tags, and a very bad tagging system, or lack there of, I should say.

💫💫💫💫💫

- Tagging system so you know what to block or read

Perrie vents — venting tag

🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷

- Hyperfixations

CoD (MW2 and Cold War Black ops) (somehow, 18+ content CoD fans DNI!!!!)

Spiderverse Itsv & atsv

Death Note (the anime)

Attack on Titan (also the anime)

Sally face

Minecraft

Undertale

Underverse

Sans AUs

FNaF (the games and the movie)

DHMIS

Mr. Plant (by Ashur Gharavi)

Bugsnax

Fran bow

TF2/Team Fortress 2

Little misfortune

MCSM

Psychology

The paranormal

Gravity Falls

Analysis of any sort

Video essays

ARGs

Art

💤💤💤💤💤

⚠️‼️DNI‼️⚠️

Zi0n1sts

Z00philes

P3dophiles

R@cists

N@zis/neo N@zis (lmk if I need to update this part cause it’s been awhile since I last did research on this)

NSFW

LGBTphobes

MAP (not the art collab but the other thing)

Anti-antis

Proshippers/comshippers

Shotacons (of any variant, I’m just using this one as an example cause this is the one I remember)

Furry haters/Anti-furrys

Anti-therians/therian haters

AB/DL

DD/LG (of any variant.)

K1nk blogs

Transmed

Radical exclusionists

Anti-age/pet regression

Able1sts

Anti-xenogenders/neopronouns/xenopronouns(<- do we still use this term or was this never a thing?)

Man, that was a long list. Hope that didn’t overwhelm you.

I know there’s a lot but I can’t fully relax without knowing there’s some wall rigidly keeping me from being face to face with actual creeps and strangers I don’t know, so this is my version of a safe space and stability.

💥💥💥💥💥

The end.

I’ll update the main info or extra info if I need too, but this is mostly it for now.

Did you read it? Did you read all of it?

If so, here is a gold star.

⭐️

like I promised :3

#pin post #Perry’s Pin Post :3

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ajbwasntwriting · 4 years ago

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Daughter!Reader X Negan, Reader x Daryl: Chapter 8. Civil Unrest

First | Previous | Next

For all intents and purposes this is filler so the next chapter will be up in the next few minutes

I’ll only post more chapters if previous chapters get a good reaction so if you enjoy this please heart it, reblog it, and/or reply to it. Interaction inspires.

if you wish to be added to the tag list please dm me. All chapters can be found under the tag AJ’s Negan’s Daughter AU

In a few days you were up on your feet, your need to survive driving your fast recovery. As soon as you could sit up without nearly fainting and you could bend your fingers without much pain you started taking patients. Mainly burns and cuts. You kept your head down while working, adding to your intimidating reputation. They didn’t realise you were just trying to conceal yourself while looking for familiar faces. You rarely left the medical bay, even when it was icy cold.

Carol checked on you regularly, seemingly incredibly concerned for you. It almost pained you to suspect her to be out to get you. Luckily she seemed convinced that because you had been alone for so long that you’d take a long time getting used to the walls. Maybe she figured out that you were just biding time for leaving again.

“Are you okay?” Laura pulled you from your thoughts. You looked up suddenly, nodded, and went back to your reading. All these patient profiles from the previous physician were thorough. “Why would Emmett be this detailed with extremely basic medical care” you tought, then again he was a captive here just as much as you were. He probably had nothing better to do. “Are you sure? You look so serious.” She continued. You looked up to her. She was lying on one of the beds chewing on a piece of hard plastic. Having to keep a watch on ‘The New Doc’ would’ve been extremely boring.

“Just a lot of reading” you sat up and stretched your arms, not realising how long you had sat hunched over the hand-written pages. “Doctors have horrible handwriting and this guy sure likes to drag his point out”

“How bad is it?” She asked. You lifted the profile of another patient and followed along with your finger.

“The left Thenar has suffered tremendous infliction resulting in the loss of elasticity and possible avulsion of the tissue” You read aloud in a dramatic voice

“What?” Laura said, taking the plastic out of her mouth for a moment

“He pulled the muscle in his thumb, possibly tearing it” you flopped the paper down, rubbing your forehead.

“And all those pages are full of that shit” Laura pressed. You sighed with a nod.

“I never thought I’d be grateful to have done AP english.” you sighed

“Okay smart ass no need to show off” Laura chuckled, chewing on the plastic again.

“Please,” you sat back in the chair “My old man made me do it. ‘You already speak english so it should be a breeze’ he said”

“Those kind of parents?”

“You’re familiar?”

“Yep” Laura sat up, hunching over her now crossed legs. “My dad was a lawyer. Mom was an accountant. They kept pushing me to over achieve”

“Bet they weren’t happy with that” you spoke, pointing to your neck to reference Laura’s tattoo. Her hand went over it instinctively.

“I had already skipped town with my boyfriend before I got this.” She laughed. The smile melted away as she slowly stroked her neck. “Hadn’t seen them since. Probably dead.”

The room got a lot more quiet. It was crazy to think you both were so close in age but had gone through so much hell in the same world. But Laura was a saviour. You were Negan’s kid. If you were to be friends it would have to be at an arm’s reach.

The momentum changed when Carol arrived in, holding a small tray with cookies on them. The smell told you they were fresh. Your heart wanted to tell her to get out, but those cookies smelled too damn good.

“How’s the hard work going ladies.” she spoke with a cheery voice, setting the tray down in front of you. You were on it instantly. You took a cookie with you as you limped over to lock the door to the medical bay. “Any news?” Carol whispered

Carol had asked you and Laura to investigate the uprising of Negan supporters in the Sanctuary. Well, mainly Laura since she would know more people in Carol’s eyes. The payment, cookies. Though Laura would probably do it for free. She enjoyed the new peace that came with being aligned with the other settlements.

“Just the usual hot-heads” Laura sighed. You limped back to your chair.

“They like to complain to me.” you gently sat down. You’d only been back walking without the full splint for a couple days now but the clunky half splint on your lower leg wasn’t exactly walker friendly. “‘You should’ve seen how great we were when Negan was running the place’ and other shit”

“What do you think of it?” Carol asks you seriously. You suck the sugar off your fingers happily.

“He mustn’t have been that good if he’s not in charge anymore.”

They had their little meeting then as Carol was leaving you piped up,

“How’s the bridge team?”

“No.” Carol retorted quickly as if speaking to a child. “You are not going out there how many times do I have to tell you.”

“I could help-”

“You’re needed here Y/N” she spoke firmly.

“Yes, mom.” you groaned from your chair, earning a laugh from Laura. Carol left quickly.

“Why do you wanna join the bridge team so badly?” Laura asked through a mouthful of cookie.

“I miss the fresh air, I guess” and there’s more chances to get away from you all.

That evening you were restless. Normally it was the pain that kept you up late but it also exhausted you. You got out of the medical bed you’d claimed as your own, one of three that outfitted the med bay. You limped your way out of the medbay, not bothered if you woke Laura. The bathroom was down the hall so she would just assume you had to pee, especially since you had taken the torch dedicated to midnight bathroom visits. Being the medic gave you the luxury of a torch instead of matches and a candle.

It hurt to climb up so many stairs, with both your wounds and the cold seeping into your skin, but you’d be tired by the time you came back down anyway. You walked onto what used to be Negan’s floor. Your ‘family’s’ floor. You’d wanted to see it for a while now, out of curiosity more than anything else.

You first went to your father’s room. Pushing the door open you felt a burst of cold air whip around you viciously. The room has been stripped of its furnishings, right down to the carpets. Taken away to be burned most likely. The windows were shattered, the bullet holes in the ceiling giving away the method. It was so completely devoid of any sign of human life one would say it always had been. You closed the door and continued onto the parlour where the wives would spend their day. This room didn’t have windows but the room was still completely void of any of the glamour that once adorned it. The only remnants was the wall paper which was peeling off due to the damp.

The image of the forgotten rooms didn’t stir emotion in the way you thought they would. You imagined getting overwhelmed with emotion, but you felt nothing. No that wasn’t right, you felt a loss. Not a loss of the grandeur you had gotten to enjoy in captivity, not a loss of the fake smiles from your many ‘mothers’. You felt a loss of your father. You mourned the man you had called your father, and the idea that all that was left of the memory of him were these halls where cowards bowed to him. You felt an overwhelming realisation that the man you called ‘Pops’ had died long before ‘Negan’ formed.

Your final destination was your room. You figured it would also be empty but your room was a bit away, down the end of a hall few knew how to get too. You’d had more roaches as visitors than people. Your father had chosen it for you so the ‘common nobodies’ wouldn’t see you easily, another measure to keep you safe.

It also worked the other way as you round the corner and see a light coming from what used to be your room. The hall was lined with offices and storage rooms you knew you could dive into if someone appeared so you turned off your light and walked down the hall gingerly on your feet. You were now only a couple feet away from the door when you heard voices coming from the end of the hall, from what used to be your room.

“I still can’t believe they put this bitch here to keep an eye on us. That fucking redneck was an ass but atleast he didn’t pretend to be all fucking nice”

“It’s probably a play to get us to relax. They’ve got us locked in this factory and don’t give us nearly enough food, and they won’t let us go to the other settlements”

“We’re prisoners. They said they only wanted to lock up Negan but now we’re all starving.”

“Enough of your bitching.”

They went on to talk about how many people were on their side and their efforts to get weapons. They clearly had no idea you were listening. After all, what kind of idiot is gonna climb up over ten floors for no reason. Other than sentiment perhaps. It sounded like there were about four people in the room, but they spoke like they had a few under their influence. They were looking for weapons and a means to get back at ‘Rick and his posse’.

“We’ll bring them that bitch Carol’s head on a spike for them.”

“What about the bridge? We got people working there for food.”

“And then what? They’re just gonna keep extorting us for slave labour or let us starve.”

You were so drawn in by their words that the door opening startled you. You charged from your spot into an open room, a storage closet of a sort. You knew it was too risky to close the door so you stood against the wall next to the door. They walked along the hall bantering loudly. You sidestepped deeper into the room, knocking something with your foot making a loud metal sound. The voices stopped and you instantly froze, holding your breath like your life depended on it. A light shun into the closet, then the other way.

“Probably just a rat” one of the voices spoke. “We can set some traps and stew it for dinner”.

They continued down the hall, their steps growing faint a minute or so later. The adrenaline began to subside and the pain from the recent strain on your leg made itself very apparent. You stepped out of the closet and walked down the hall to your old room. Maybe they left some evidence you could use to barter for your freedom.

You opened the door to your room, only illuminated by the moonlight coming from the window. Unlike the other rooms, your room hadn’t been completely ransacked. The mattress had been taken off the frame but the metal skeleton remained as well as the rug under your bed. Other than that it appeared empty. You turned on your torch to get a better view.

On your bed frame lay what had to be near a hundred dead wild flowers. Your breath caught in your throat at the site. You moved and sat on the bed frame, the metal sending a chill up your body. You placed a hand on the dry stems and something hit the ground with a thump. You moved to look under the bed as quick as you could, reaching under the bed you cut yourself on something sharp. You moved your torch on it and grabbed it again, this time from a less dangerous end.

Under the bed you pulled out the knife that had your name engraved on it. The metal shun bright in the light as if lovingly polished until it’s inevitable abandonment. You hadn’t realized you had begun to cry until a tear fell onto the blade and began to fill the engraving.

~Tag List~

@bodeckersbitch @lauren-novak @aestthete

#AJ's Negan's Daughter AU #twd negan #negan fic #negan twd #negan the walking dead #the walking dead negan #negan x daughter reader #daughter reader #daughter x negan #daughter reader x negan #twd daryl #daryl dixon #the walking dead daryl #daryl dixon imagine #daryl dixon x reader #twd carol #carol peletier #the walking dead carol #twd laura

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 4 years ago

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Omertà👄11

Warnings: noncon sexual acts; tags to be added throughout series

This is dark!Bucky and dark! Loki and explicit. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Your father was a bookie and taught you everything you know about numbers. After his death, you were taken on as a bookkeeper for Loki Laufeyson, resident crime boss in Manhattan. But can you keep your place in the background when a man from Brooklyn threatens to drag you to the forefront?

Note: Alrighty, got this done. It’s more plot but we’ll have some more fun coming up.

Hope you enjoy it. Thank you. Love you guys!

As always, if you can, please leave some feedback, like and reblog <3

As you watched Loki, you could tell it was a struggle for him to restrain his anger. His voice threatened to rise as the smoke from Steve’s cigarette tickled your nose. You turned away from the two men and balanced the thick ledger in your arm as you searched for your phone in your purse. You checked the time and sighed. It was barely noon; a whole day ahead of you.

You could sense Bucky watching your every move as you glanced back at Loki. You paced along the curb, the seaside air rolling in from the boardwalk. Loki shoved his phone into his pocket as his eyes narrowed and he returned to his unexpected partner. He was roiling and rolled his eyes as he approached.

“Well…” Loki uttered. You could tell he was at a loss.

“A tour?” Bucky offered slyly.

“I’m certain we might find our own way around,” Loki reached over and grabbed your elbow. You almost dropped the ledger as he pulled you to his side. “Get a lay of the place and see what needs most attention.”

“Well, we’ve done most of that,” Bucky pushed his hands into his pocket and shrugged. “We were actually just getting some stuff out of the way. Got a few rooms cleared out to set up shop.”

Loki’s jaw tensed and he shook his head. “I do not require an escort.”

“Ah, but I do need to consult with your bookkeeper on expenses,” Bucky countered. “We’ve done our calculations. My contractor was by last night and he gave us the basic cost of reparations.”

Loki’s lips parted and he glanced between you and Bucky. He raised his chin and looked down his long nose.

“Perhaps if she has a chance. I do require her for my own walk through,” Loki said.

“I can wait.” Bucky smirked. “Didn’t take us very long on our own adventure.”

“If you can afford a contractor, surely you can afford your own accountant,” Loki scoffed.

“If she is to do the numbers on this place, that makes her an employee. So if she is to work here, she would report to both of us,” Bucky slipped his hands from his pockets and gripped his hips. “Or you can send her back to New York.”

Loki pursed his lips and his hand fell from your arm. His straight brows lowered over his eyes and made him seem sinister. He nodded and let out a low hiss.

“Very well,” He waved you past the two men as Steve tossed the butt of his cigarette. “We will have a look around and then you may consult with us.”

Bucky grinned, amused and stepped back and flourished his arm towards the front door.

“Oh, be careful of the east staircase,” He warned as Loki ushered you past with a prod. “I’d suggest taking the west.”

“Right,” Loki walked faster and you struggled to keep up with his long strides.

You heard Bucky’s chuckle as Loki tore open one of the double doors and swept inside. You barely caught the door before it clattered behind him and stepped inside. The place was lit with caged light bulbs hanging from industrial hooks, yellow extension cords strung around the dusty space.

“So…” You began softly. “Diablo?”

“He sold to Barnes before we closed,” He kicked aside a splintered piece of wood as he looked around. You stayed by the door as he paced. “Not that he mentioned that. In fact he did suggest he still held that fifty-one percent.”

“I… did warn you--”

“Don’t,” Loki pointed at you and peered over your shoulder. “Let us continue. We do have work to do.”

“Well, my work is to tell you,” You spoke over your shoulder as you continued through the broad doorway to a room occupied with broken tables and dead slot machines. “That this is going to run you a pretty penny and I doubt your partner will spare any expense if he knows it makes you unhappy.”

“I still hold my forty-nine,” Loki grumbled as he ran his finger along the grimy screen of a machine. “And speaking of my… partner, I trust you to gird yourself in his presence.”

“Oh, you trust me?” You sneered.

“You write his numbers in your book and nothing more,” Loki slithered as he turned to you. “And I see that buffoon of his watching you. Best stay clear of the pair while I am not around.”

“Like Thor?” You wondered.

“Thor,” Loki mused as he buttoned a single button on his jacket. “He might be of better use here given the state of things.”

“Do you really think that’s a good idea?” You frowned.

“He knows the business and if Barnes insists on having a personal lout at his beck and call, I should have my own,” Loki continued past you, his footsteps echoing around you. “Thor is harmless so long as I’m around, darling.”

“And if you should not be around?” You wondered.

“You might do yourself a favour and stay close,” He remarked. “Perhaps realise I’m better use to you than you think. Why, I should expect nothing but your admiration and gratitude. I could sell your life to any I see fit.”

“It seems of little real value to you,” You uttered.

“And if I did barter you to Barnes, do you think he’d treat you well? Treat you better? You think he’d not tire of you quickly.” Loki taunted. “You do not realise that while I enjoy your physical worth, I see as much in those left unseen. When I am finished with you, I will still require your other services.”

Your lip curled in disgust as you followed him into the next room. Another large hall, this one filled with decrepit card tables and a caved in bar below a sign lined with shattered bulbs.

“Or perhaps he would have you on a pole? Though I don’t see you should fare so well there,” He snickered over his shoulder and your cheeks burned. “This.” He pointed to the leaning bar. “Make a note not to keep the bar here. It must be made more accessible.”

You squinted at him. He so swiftly flitted from threatening to business, though he spoke of both topics with little emotion. You took out your phone and opened the notepad and typed away as he continued along the sprawl of tables.

Yet, you could sense that his coolness had become barely more than an act. He was truly perturbed by Bucky and the deception he’d been caught in. It was rare that Loki was the dupe and he was thoroughly unused to the role.

👄

Loki dusted off his hands as you returned to the front foyer. Voices bounced off the high ceiling and the two men who had greeted you without awaited you It had taken just over an hour to explore the entirety of the casino’s skeleton. You saved your notes as you trailed behind Loki.

Bucky smiled past him. You hated that. You knew his blatant attention only riled Loki; he was not one to be ignored or spurned. The men met with another frigid handshake and Steve tapped his toe impatiently.

“Just up here,” Bucky motioned up the wide staircase that faced the door. “We made some decent progress.”

Loki’s lashes fluttered dully and he nodded. He followed the two men up the stairs and peeked over his shoulder to make sure you were still there. You clamoured up in their stead and along the hallway at the top. At the end, two rooms had been cleared out, debris along their thresholds as the doors hung open.

“Your choice, boss,” Bucky said dryly. “They won’t be too hard to dress up and will serve as a base as we get everything else going.”

Loki swallowed and stepped forward. He peered inside each and chose the one with the faded old sofa which appeared to be a Prohibition relic. It was also the bigger of the two. Bucky’s lips slanted and held back a laugh.

“Well, then,” He looked at his watch. “Now that you’ve had your go, would you permit me to go over expenses with your bookkeeper?”

Loki peered over at you. He could say no but that would only goad Bucky. He could make an excuse but that was a show of weakness. He pondered only for a moment.

“I should sit in, as an owner,” Loki intoned.

“You’re more than welcome.” Bucky shrugged. “But I think you might have some calls to make. My attorney will be here tomorrow to go over our books and the intricacies of this arrangement. Oh, and while I trust my contractor, I know you are the type to prefer your own.”

Loki’s lips thinned as he considered Bucky. He was being mocked. He knew it. If he insisted on joining, it would only add to this. Bucky would know exactly how bothered Loki was by him and his interest in you. And, he did, after all, have a point.

If they were forced to work together, they’d have to do so as peacefully as they could. Attorneys and contractors would provide both insurance for their investment and buffer between them.

“I can leave the door open,” Bucky offered coyly.

Loki bit back a growl and smiled.

“I expect detailed notes, darling,” He ignored Bucky and his slender fingers wrapped around your arm. “We will review them tonight.”

He surprised you with a kiss on your temple and you barely kept from recoiling. His hand fell from your arm and he brushed your ass as he nodded to Bucky and spun away. He strutted into his office and he slammed the door, a cloud of dust raining from the frame.

“He must be fun in bed,” Bucky snorted.

You said nothing and stared at the ledger. Steve laughed along with Bucky and you felt a brush along your lower back. The blonde henchman nudged you towards the office as Bucky turned away. You scurried away from him before his hand could fall lower and barely evaded him as you followed Bucky inside.

“You’re not gonna kick me out again, are ya, boss?” Steve asked.

“This is business,” Bucky said sternly and pulled out a curved back chair from the small square table. “Sit.”

He gestured to the seat and waited for you to take it. He pulled another around the side of the table and sat close as Steve dropped into a cushioned armchair. His legs splayed out as he hung his arms over the upholstery.

There was a thick black ledger under a stack of files in the middle of the table. You opened your own book as Bucky drew the other from beneath the pile and flipped the cover. He flicked through the pages and cracked his knuckles as he leaned back in the stiff chair.

He brushed his palm over his hair, a trickle of sweat along his temple. The air was still and warm. He pushed his sleeves up as they began to slip down his forearms and popped three buttons.

“You wanna get a window open,” He snarled at Steve.

The other man rose with a sigh and went to the boarded up window along the wall behind Bucky. He grunted as he wiggled the wood loose from the bent nails and tossed it aside noisily. The sunlight streamed in and made your eyes water after so long spent in the dim casino.

Bucky shifted in his chair and looked you over as Steve reclaimed his chair. He rubbed his chin and leaned an elbow on the table. Steve’s toe tapped on the floor and you stewed in the tension.

“You look… tired,” Bucky said. “He must be working you hard.”

“Mmm, I’m doing my job,” You evaded as you stirred around in your purse for a pencil before setting it aside. “So where shall we begin. Structural issues? Do you have your contractor’s estimate?”

“We have time, sweetheart,” He cooed. “How are ya?”

You shot him a sharp look then averted your eyes. Your throat constricted as you recalled the scene in Loki’s office. You knew they were thinking of it too.

“Splendid,” You said dryly.

The chair creaked below Bucky as he leaned forward.

“I didn’t know Thor was there until after,” He said softly. “I shoulda had you come in through the back.”

“We’re here to discuss business,” You dragged your eraser along the edge of the page and avoided looking at him.

“He hasn’t been too rough, has he?” He asked.

“What the fuck do you care?” You snapped. “It’s all your--” You closed your mouth and shook your head. “Don’t act so innocent when you’re here, carrying on in this little dick measuring contest.”

“Well, is he bigger?” Bucky chuckled.

You rolled your eyes and raised your chin as you glared at him.

“You’re awful.” You hissed.

“With my clothes on,” He touched your knee. “Maybe.”

You kicked out at him as you shoved his hand away. He caught your foot before it could meet his crotch. He stood and pulled you so that you had to latch onto the chair to keep from crashing to the floor. Your skirt slipped slightly up your leg and his hand pushed it further as he felt between your thighs.

Steve’s figure moved in your peripheral and a purr came from him. You struggled with Bucky and he pushed your legs until they were almost bent against your chest.

“Look, I don’t wanna get you in even more trouble,” He warned. “These walls are as thin as Loki’s temper.”

He relented and you wriggled free of him. You righted yourself on the chair and fixed your skirt. Bucky sat back down and pushed his shoulders back.

“It’s okay. Even if he is bigger,” Bucky teased. “You know he’ll never be as good.”

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a-force-dyad-in-space · 3 years ago

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CHECK-IN TAG

I was tagged by @vishcount thank you ♥️

1. Why did you choose your url?

I love Rey and Ben/Kylo from the Star Wars sequel trilogy, and they are a force dyad who travel through and can communicate across space so, ergo, a force dyad in space ✌🏻

2. Any side-blogs? If you have them, name them and why you have them.

I don't have any sideblogs at the moment, but I'll be sure to tell you guys if I ever make any 😋

3. How long have you been on tumblr?

With this account, about two years, but I had another account before this one that ran from about 2011-2018 👀

4. Do you have a queue tag?

Nope, when I'm not online my blog is as dead as a doornail 🤣🤣🤣

5. Why did you start your blog in the first place?

Some months after I deleted my old account (for mental health reasons that I won't go into right now), I wanted to branch out into the Tumblrverse again. Even on my old account I hadn't been really active in a while because I was mostly on Twitter at that point. When I made this account, I still wasn't very active for a while, but after I watched The Rise of Skywalker I was in desperate need of kindred spirits and tired of really terrible takes on Twitter, so I started being more active here again (and made some great friends along the way ♥️), until I pretty much neglected all my other social media

6. Why did you choose your icon/pfp?

Again, I love Reylo, and since my URL is Reylo-based, I felt like my icon needed to be, too (even though I rarely even post Reylo these days, I gotta change that 😅); the icon I got right now is a bit dark and ominous for my liking now, tho, so I'll probably change it to a nicer one soon

7. Why did you choose your header?

When I watched The Untamed for the first time in November, I fell in love with WangXian, and I still love them to this day ♥️

8. What’s your post with the most notes?

Uh, this one might come as a surprise since I rarely post about Twilight, but it's my Eclipse rewatch post where I praise the vampire make-up and David Slade's beautiful use of the vampire sparkle (the Eclipse make-up and VFX departments really did the most) 😅 As of today (June 5, 2021) that post has just under 1k notes

9. How many mutuals do you have?

As of today, 16 (and I love every single one of them ♥️)

10. How many followers do you have?

As of today, 153, but I don't really care about the quantity, more about the quality 👌🏻

11. How many people do you follow?

As of today, 357

12. Have you ever made a shitpost?

Uuuh... does my WangXian crack giftset count?

13. How often do you use tumblr each day?

Way too much probably, but honestly it and the Asian dramas I'm watching are what have been keeping me sane during this pandemic, so I don't really care 🤷🏻‍♀️

14. Did you have a fight/argument with another blog once? Who won?

Not that I can remember, but I have gotten rude anons before whose asks I simply deleted and moved on (I don't have the energy for that kind of bullshit; which is also why I don't accept anon asks anymore, my apologies to the people who might have sent me nice anon asks and are too shy to message me off anon; I don't bite, tho, I promise)

15. How do you feel about “you need to reblog this” posts?

I don't like "Reblog this or you're a terrible person" posts (tho I have to admit, I've let myself be guilt-tripped into reblogging these types of posts before, but I'm trying not to let those get to me anymore), because

1) by guilt-tripping people into reblogging something, whether it's an important topic or not, you will never know whether the person you guilt-tripped actually cares about the topic,

2) by trying to guilt-trip them into reblogging you might actually cause them to do the exact opposite and make them care even less because caring might feel like a chore as opposed to a learning curve about something they may have never heard of before they saw the post that's trying to guilt-trip them

and 3) at the end of the day we're all just running our little blogs here and absolutely no one is obligated to reblog anything they don't want to reblog.

Yes, it's important to raise awareness about important issues, but guilt-tripping someone into caring about something instead of just letting them know that that something is happening and letting them do their own research about it and grow to care about it on their own terms is not the way.

Okay, this one turned out more ranty than I anticipated, but here we are. 😅

16. Do you like tag games?

If I didn't I wouldn't be doing this one right now, would I? 😋

17. Do you like ask games?

I do, but no one ever sends me any asks for them 🥲🥲🥲🥲 (tho I rarely send other people asks for ask games, too, so I guess I could make more of an effort as well)

18. Which of your mutuals do you think is tumblr famous?

Definitely @cenedrariva, their SongXueXiao fic "Red Azalea" is absolutely amazing and they deserve all the love they get for it ♥️

Also, @krispycreamsicle and @byallaccountsitdoesntmakesense both make super awesome gifsets that they absolutely deserve to be tumblr-famous for 🔥

19. Do I have a crush on a mutual?

Who knows? 😏

20. tags?

Well, the three blogs I already mentioned are welcome to do the tag, of course, if they want, and also @calamity-queen @huxdameron @yumingyesfairy @nika1882 and @angst-wizard ♥️ No pressure tho, of course

#jen got tagged

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nekoannie-chan · 4 years ago

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Regrets

Pairing: Steve Rogers X Mutant! Reader.

Word count: 1545 words.

Summary: Steve had made a decision, but another fact will make he realizes it was the wrong one, can he fix it?

Warnings: some smut references, nothing explicit, mention of deaths of characters, angst, sad.

A/N: This is my entry to the @distractedgemini‘s Kay’s Decade of Music Writing Challenge with the song prompt #35:

“Someone like you” by Adele.

And my entry to the @kitkatd7 ‘s Kits’ 250 Writing Challenge with the dialogue prompt #1:

“Don’t you understand? You were her happy ending”.

And my entry to @jtargaryen18 ‘s 30 days of Chris.

My native language is Spanish so I wanna improve my writing skills in English if you notice any mistake please let me know and I will correct it.

I don’t give any kind of permission that my fics be posted in other platforms or languages (I translate myself my work) or the use of my graphics (my dividers are included in this), I did them exclusively for my fics, please respect my work and don’t steal it. There are some people here who make dividers that anyone can use, mine is not this type, please look for the other’s people. The only exception is the ones I gifted ‘cuz now belong to someone else. If you find any of my works on a different platform and is not one of my accounts, please let me know. Reblogs and comments are always welcome.

DISCLAIMER: I don’t own Marvel’s characters (unfortunately), except for the original characters and the story.

My other media where I publish: Wattpad, Ao3, ffnet.

If you like it, please vote, comment, and give me feedback to improve my skills and reblog.

youtube

I heard that you're settled down That you found a girl and you're married now I heard that your dreams came true Guess she gave you things, I didn't give to you

2005

You came into your house after returning from school, everything was supposed to have changed, the mutants no longer had to hide, and weren't taken to the Garland Detention Center.

"I'm home," you said after closing the door.

There was no answer, maybe they didn't hear you.

"Mom, Dad," you called as you walked down the aisle.

It was strange to you that they didn’t say anything, you returned to the hall, maybe they left you a message there and you hadn't seen it yet, there was no note, probably something had happened, some last-minute mission, although it was rare that you hadn't been warned.

While they weren't your biological parents; Clarice and John had adopted you after yours were killed by the Purifiers when you were a baby, although the fact that you were adopted didn't care much because you were happy with your family, even your last name was Proudstar and they love you as her daughter.

But when you entered the kitchen, a scream came out of your throat; there were their bodies, you could tell at first glance that they had tried to defend themselves, even though it was not enough.

"No! Mom! Dad!”

You tried to move them, you were hoping they'd still be alive, even if they were badly hurt, you didn't get the idea that they were dead.

I heard that you're settled down That you found a girl and you're married now I heard that your dreams came true Guess she gave you things, I didn't give to you

"There's someone here," a woman said.

You didn't even hear when someone came into your house; for a moment you thought they were your parents’ killers who had come back or listened to you.

“Are you Y/N? Y/N Proudstar, Clarice's, and John's daughter? The woman questioned.

You nodded, you didn't know if to trust, you didn't even know who that woman was, within seconds a man came into the kitchen.

"When did you arrive? Fury asked you.

"About 10 minutes ago," you replied scared.

"You'll come with us, Coulson, accompany her to take her belongings and help her," Nick said.

"What? I'm not going anywhere, I don't even know who you are, how can I be sure you're not going to do me the same as my parents?”

"We are S.H.I.E.L.D. we received your parents' message asking for help and that we take care of you.”

“How do I know they are S.H.I.E.L.D.?”

Your parents had told you everything, yet without proof, you couldn't believe them.

Fury and Coulson showed their IDs, they weren't lying, you sighed, you went to your bedroom followed by Coulson and you started storing things in suitcases and backpacks, they hadn't specified any item limits on you, so you'd take as much as you could.

Old friend, why are you so shy? Ain't like you to hold back or hide from the light

I hate to turn up out of the blue, uninvited But I couldn't stay away, I couldn't fight it I had hoped you'd see my face And that you'd be reminded that for me, it isn't over

2012

You walked as fast as you could, that day you were late, you were carrying the report of the last mission you were gone to.

You didn't pay attention around you, so you crashed into something hard, you thought it had been against a wall, because of the impact, you fell.

"I'm sorry, miss, okay?” The ‘wall’ said to help you lift.

"Captain, I'm sorry, I didn't see it," you apologized.

Steve help you pick up the leaves, within a few seconds Coulson showed up.

"Agent Proudstar, the report," he asked.

"I was already taking him to his office right now," you replied.

"I see you've met, your next mission will be together," Coulson said.

You knew who Steve was, but you remembered he didn't know who you were, you still didn't show up.

"Agent Y/N Proudstar," you said, smiling.

Never mind, I'll find someone like you I wish nothing but the best for you, too "Don't forget me, " I beg I remember you said "Sometimes it lasts in love, but sometimes it hurts instead" "Sometimes it lasts in love, but sometimes it hurts instead"

2018

"I know we've lost a lot these days, but you remember I was going to ask you something the day Bruce called us. You know when Thanos...”

"Yes," you answered while you were accommodating some things

Steve took your arm to stop and pay attention to him.

"What's going on?”

"Marry me," he asked.

"Just like that? Are you sure? I mean, you always told me you wanted Bucky to be in...”

"We try to get everything back to normal, Thanos is dead we can't do much, but we can try to be happy and get on with our lives, it seems like that's all we can do.”

"I think it's going to be enough for Nat to be there," you said.

He took your answer as if he ‘I do’ and kissed you.

You know how the time flies Only yesterday was the time of our lives We were born and raised in a summer haze Bound by the surprise of our glory days

2023

You looked down, you knew Steve had told you a lie... or worse he had lied to you all that time.

As soon as he left you started running towards the trees, you didn't want to know anything anymore, if you could... If you could... you probably would have done the same thing and prevent your parents from being killed.

“Y/N!” Bucky called you.

You didn't listen to him, you kept running, you wanted to go as far as you could, you'd like to somehow forget everything and Bucky finally caught you, grabbed your arm, and stopped you.

"He's gone, he went with Peggy," you started sobbing.

Bucky hugged you, he didn't know what to say or do to comfort you, he knew what you were saying was true.

"He left us... Bucky, he left us...”

Yes, Steve had left them, but Bucky didn't understand exactly what you meant, you hadn't even had a chance to say anything, you didn't know now what to do, the feeling was a thousand times worse than when you lost your parents.

I hate to turn up out of the blue, uninvited But I couldn't stay away, I couldn't fight it I had hoped you'd see my face And that you'd be reminded that for me, it isn't over

1947

Steve peeked into the door of the house where Peggy was living.

He saw her pass, at least now he was sure he hadn't got the wrong house; he needed a few more minutes before knocking the door and that's when he saw Daniel kissing Peggy and after the couple split up, she took the baby from the crib.

Peggy found her right partner after Steve had ended up on the ice...

Steve stayed a week in that time, it would probably be a month after the last time he had seen them...

You didn't expect to be welcomed... but he would do his best to recover what he had ruined.

Never mind, I'll find someone like you I wish nothing but the best for you, too "Don't forget me, " I begged I remember you said "Sometimes it lasts in love, but sometimes it hurts instead"

2019

"Orphanages are full," you said while you're taking the last picture you'd been taken with your parents.

"Everything is complicated," Steve replied, and he was reading the newspaper.

"We should adopt some or some of those little ones, I was very happy when Clarice and John adopted me," you said looking at the picture.

"You think they're going to let us? We’re superheroes, I don't think they want to expose children to danger," Steve replied, taking his eyes off the newspaper.

You kept thinking for a few minutes, Steve was right, you didn't know exactly if another threat would show up, no one knew.

"You're right.”

"But we can do some," Steve proposed, approaching you.

"Captain," you said seductively.

Nothing compares, no worries or cares Regrets and mistakes, they're memories made Who would have known how bittersweet this would taste?

2023

Steve returned to where he belonged, took everyone by surprise, as soon as they heard the machine activate Bruce and Bucky immediately went to see what was going on, Bruce had installed it at the Compound in case it was necessary, they feared it would be some other enemy, no one expected him to return, as soon as they saw him a sepulchral silence took over the room.

Bucky decided to take him outside, no one dared say what had happened.

“And Y/N?” Steve asked

Steve had immediately noticed your absence, Bucky bit his lip, and he didn't know how to explain it.

"Buck, and Y/N? I know she must be angry...”

"She didn't make it on the last mission," he finally confessed.

"What?”

"Something went wrong and...”

Steve turned around and started walking inland from the Compound.

“DON’T YOU UNDERSTAND? YOU WERE HER HAPPY ENDING…!”

Steve didn't keep listening to what his friend was saying, he went to the base and went straight into the room that you and he shared, and if he hadn't left... if it hadn't been so hollow head... you'd still be alive.

He opened the drawer of your nightstand where you kept the photos, he wanted to see you, he saw that something flew out when he took out the album and it was frozen as soon as he saw the object.

She took the positive pregnancy test, the day he left, you seemed so nervous, so you insisted that he wasn't the one to return the Stones.

There was only one way to get you back, this time I wouldn't ruin it, he took some things from the room and headed to where the time machine was.

Never mind, I'll find someone like you I wish nothing but the best for you "Don't forget me, " I beg I remember you said "Sometimes it lasts in love, but sometimes it hurts instead"

2010

You knocked on Fury's office, you were sent to call, and you thought it was for a new mission.

"Agent Proudstar, I'm glad you came," Nick said.

“What do you need a Director?”

"This is Steve Rogers, Captain America," Fury said, pointing to Steve.

"Captain, I'm Agent of S.H.I.E.L.D. Y/N Proudstar," you introduced yourself smiling.

Your smile, Steve had missed her so much.

He stretched out his hand to greet you and smiled, he was going to fix everything that had happened, he would love you again and no mistakes this time, and he was going to make sure you were happy together.

Never mind, I'll find someone like you I wish nothing but the best for you, too "Don't forget me, " I begged I remember you said "Sometimes it lasts in love, but sometimes it hurts instead" "Sometimes it lasts in love, but sometimes it hurts instead"

#Kay’s Decade of Music Challenge #kits250challenge #30DaysofChris2020 #Steve Rogers #steve rogers one shot #steve rogers fic #steve rogers fanfiction #steve x reader #steve x you #steve x y/n #captain america #captain america fic #captain america fanfiction #captain america one shot #captain america x you #captain america x reader #captain america x y/n

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mostardently · 4 years ago

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So my sister @sueprincess tagged me in this game of answering 30 questions which im pretty late at but here they are!!

1) name: shreya

2) gender : female

3) star sign : Taurus

4) height : 5`2 ( be happy I’m kinda shorter than you :/)

5) time rn : 2:56

6) birthday : 7th may

7) favorite band : one direction and little mix (very limited cos 1D never gave me time to explore other bands :/ )

8) favorite solo artist : Harry,Louis ,Niall, zayn malik, Liam, Taylor, Ariana, Adele,Billie, Dua, Ed, Selena, few more. (Hindi solo artist counts? I’ll name my Fav singers- Arijit,KK, Shreya, Sonu, Atif and all of 90's legends. Current singers shouldn’t even be called singers ya know?)

9) song stuck in your head : copy of a copy (I'm still not over it)

10) last movie : The intern

11) last show : money heist

12) when did I create this blog: I've had tumblr before but 1D blog this year.

13) What do I post : ot5, larry, one direction the most ( I just reblog 🤐)

14) Last thing I googled : the dead sea by the lumineers

15) other blog : yep my personal one I visit once a week

16) do I get asks : some from mutuals but very rarely also I'm dumb so why would even people ask me anything!?

17) why I chose my URL : it represents Larry and kinda their long term relationship (for me)

18) following : ot5 blogs,Larry blogs, some quotes blog, memes blog ,I don't remember now argh

19) followers : 🤷🏻

20) average hours of sleep : during classes/exams even 3/4 hours are enough and holidays it can extend to 12/13 hours :|

21) lucky number :7

22) instruments : none and it hurts cos I want to learn one but don't have time :(

23) what I’m wearing: T-shirt and PJs

24) dream job : well for now become a Chartered accountant

25) dream trip : can't name one but anything with beaches and all those aesthetic videos I see on Instagram with pretty skies and vast oceans idk the names but wanna visit every place :/

26) favorite food : anything containing chicken!!!!!

27) nationality : Indian

28) favorite songs : can’t pick one

29) last book : all I read this year were my CA books and so don't want to pick any book now

30) top 3 fictional universes : not much interest in this ..sorry :(

Finally done!! It was pretty fun to answer these, so thank you Shu!!

Not tagging anyone cos I'm pretty sure most of you have done this. If not and want to answer these pleaseeeeeeeee do it. I'll be very glad to get to know you!!!!

#thanks for tagging me!#Shu #tag game

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what-is-your-plan-today · 5 years ago

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CSI: Rogers and Barnes The Serious Cereal Serial Killer

Prologue: Aye Aye Captain.

Series Intro: Captain Steve Rogers and Sergeant James ‘Bucky’ Barnes are hot on the tail of Brooklyn’s latest criminal- The Serious Cereal Serial Killer. Captain Rogers assembles the best officers from the Brooklyn 101 Murder Unit. This specialist team, nicknamed The Avengers, are working in the dark as the killer leaves behind no clues, other than their choice of murder weapon- whichever beige cereal he/she chooses.

The team are in a race against time as the bodies begin to mount. Can they catch the perp before it’s too late?

Episode Summary: There’s a lake, and Steve’s in a suit. Someone he clearly has feelings for appears and we get the impression that he may have done something a little bit dumbassy… Episode Warnings: Bad Language words. Dark Comedy themes. CSI:NY + Brooklyn 99 = CSI: Steeb!

Episode Pairings: Steve Rogers x OFC Katie Stark (will they, won’t they, did they???)

Song for Episode: Alien by Cary Brothers

A/N: Inspired by THAT picture of Mr Evans on set in his suit by the lake, myself and @icanfeelastormbrewing put our heads together and we present to you CSI: Rogers and Barnes- The Serious Serial Cereal Killer. I really hope you’re ready because this is a journey into our very, very odd minds but we promise there is a decent plot underneath all our Avengers and Stark Spangled Banner Easter Eggs and jokes! You don’t need to have read that series to understand or enjoy this, but we’ve used the Universe to spin this from.

Our knowledge of American Policing is limited, so bear with us if we slip up, but at the end of the day this is a fiction so we’ll claim any mistakes as creative license!!

Episodes will be given individual warnings, summaries, pairings and songs so please pay attention to those.

PLEASE REBLOG and COMMENT!

Tags are open.

CSI Rogers and Barnes Master List

Main Masterlist

“Nice suit, punk.” Sergeant James Barnes smiled at his Captain, Steve Rogers, who sighed, dropping his hands to his hips.

“You’re a jerk, Bucky” Steve replied simply, eyeing his best friend through his Aviators, a small smile playing on his face.

“Ready for your big speech?” Bucky questioned.

Steve took a breath and looked around. It was a gorgeous, sunny May evening. The Lakehouse which had been hired by the NYPD for the Ceremony was full of people all milling around inside and out.

“Yeah.” he nodded “I think so.”

“Think so ain’t gonna cut it Steve.” Bucky chuckled “You got half the force out there. The Deputy Commissioner, the Commissioner…” “Buck, just don’t” Steve sighed “I’m well aware of who’s here, thanks.” “Well it’s hardly surprising…” Bucky said, taking a pull from his beer “It was a pretty big case. Thanos and The Children were terrorising Brooklyn for years. “And it was the 101that put him away.” Steve smiled “It was a good team effort.” “You gonna take that time out?” Bucky asked. Steve shrugged.

“I dunno.”

“You work too hard.” “Criminals don’t exactly take time out because we want to a holiday you know.” Steve said, looking at him. “I’m sure the Unit wouldn’t fall apart if you took a week out.” Bucky said “Stark’s right, you need to get a life man.” “Fuck you.” Steve shot back and Bucky snorted a laugh.

“Whatever.”

At that point, Deputy Commissioner Nick Fury approached them, and Steve nodded to him

“Sir.”

“They’re ready for you now Captain.” he said “You do your speech and then Senator Ross will join you on stage to hand out the Commendation to you and your Unit.” “Yes Sir.” he nodded.

“Knock ‘em dead Punk.” Bucky smiled, and Steve shot him one last look, before he took off his aviators and tucked them into his pocket, Bucky making his way to his seat.

He passed by the other members of his specialist unit, smiling as he went. Detectives Clint Barton and Natasha Romanoff aka Clintasha on account of them hardly ever being apart, Patrol Officer Odinson, aka the Bungalow on account of him ‘not having much upstairs’ according to Bucky (which was ironic seeing a the guy was about 8 feet tall) and then on to his support staff- Tony Stark and Bruce Banner his forensic experts aka the Science Brothers, their Assistant Peter Parker, Sam Wilson, the lead Pathologist and Police Technician Wanda Maximoff.

After acknowledging them all, he walked up the steps to the stage to a round of applause and wolf whistles, and smiling he pulled his pre-written speech out of his pocket.

“Thank you.” he spoke into the microphone, squinting slightly against the sun “It’s my pleasure to welcome you to this celebration of achievement for the Brooklyn 101 and their efforts which led to the removal of a dangerous crime lord from our streets.” he paused as Clint gave a little cheer, followed by a shout.

“Go Avengers!”

More cheering and Steve smiled at his team before signalling with his large hands for them to settle down. As the noise died down he cleared his throat and glanced down at his notes again.

Bucky watched him, smiling to himself. Steve was good a public speaker, his ability to command an audience and simply make people listen was one of the many reasons he had risen through the ranks so quickly, alongside the fact that he had an impressive ability to manage people and a huge number of solved crimes to his name. Bucky was incredibly proud of his best friend. The tall, broad man on the stage was a far cry from that skinny little blonde haired punk he had grown up with, bailing out of fights constantly on the streets they had roamed as kids.

Steve caught Bucky’s eye, and his Sergeant flashed him a wink and he smiled before continuing.

“Months of hard work, long days and even longer nights went into putting Thanos away. And each and every single member of the 101 had a huge role to play. From Sergeant Barnes who commanded and led the team to Wanda who kept all our paperwork and reports water tight. No matter how meaningless you may have felt your contribution seemed on the outside, every single bit of it was influential in bringing Thanos to justice, and he I am over the moon to be able to thank you all for your efforts and service today.”

He paused and looked out and that was when he spotted her, gently weaving her way through the crowd that was stood up at the back of the seats. Not that it took much effort, he could have found those big green emeralds among millions of people. Her hair was different, not only shorter, but different. It curled round her left ear and her bangs swept across her face sweeping down and finishing in a longer point along the right hand side of her jaw. But those eyes were piercing through him the same way that they had always done. Steve had seen them shine with excitement, sparkle with laughter, darken with lust and close with utter bliss… he had also seen them water with disappointment and shrink with anger.

Just like they were doing now.

Steve had always been one for containment and keeping his emotions at bay, he was the righteous Captain everyone in his team looked up to after all and couldn't afford to let his emotions get in the way. At that moment though he struggled to focus on the page in his hands which he was surprised to find were shaking slightly. With a deep breath he steeled himself, cleared his throat and resumed his speech. Had he let that scrawny Brooklyn kid he once was come out, he would have stayed there slack jawed with nothing to say.

Bucky sensed something was off, he knew Steve too well not to notice. He turned around to follow his best friend gaze only to find a brunette young woman with gorgeous green eyes dressed in a sleeveless dark green cocktail dress adorned with little golden pineapples. Bucky turned back to the front and glanced at Natasha, whose sharp eye had also noticed Steve’s reaction. Bucky shrugged and motioned with his head to the back of the seats where the woman was stood. Natasha glanced back and her eyebrows shot up in surprise. She nudged Clint who turned to look, before he shared an imperceptible knowing glance with Natasha.

Ok, so they knew who she was. Bucky still had no idea.

When Steve finished his speech and the crowd erupted in a big round of applause, Senator Ross approached his spot on the stage and handed out the Commendation, giving Steve a brief hug and pat him on the back. Steve then showed it to his team mates who were now stood, cheering him from the front row under the stage and that was when Bucky saw Katie approach Tony, dropping a kiss to his cheek. As he looked at the faint resemblance between the two, understanding suddenly flooded his system. This had to be Katie Stark, the youngest child of the late Commander Howard Stark, Steve’s one time boss and mentor.

As Steve was dragged to the side for photos with the Senator and Chief, he continued to watch the unit out of the side of his eye. Tony said something to Katie’s ear as his arm curled round her shoulders and that smile Steve would have died for threatened to spread across her pretty face. Steve swallowed, and allowed himself to be rearranged for more photos with the Senator and Chief, before all to soon he was being dismissed to leave the spotlight to mingle with his friends to celebrate.

Get yourself together Steve, you can do this.

He took a moment to inhale deeply and give himself a pep talk, before he drew himself tall and walked over to where the members of the 101st .and Katie were.

As he approached he saw Thor sweep Katie into a huge hug and drop a kiss to her cheek. "Little Stark, you look fantastic. It's good to see you." "You too big guy" she grinned before she stepped forward to hug Clint and Natasha, her one time team mates "and you two." Steve shuffled uncomfortably, his collar and tie felt real tight. His hands slipped into his pockets and he rocked to and fro on the balls of his feet, a little tick he had whenever he got nervous. One that didn’t go unnoticed by Bucky.

"Not that we're not happy to see you but...what you doing here?" Clint asked, releasing her. "Was on a rare few days off and came to visit Tone" she said, smiling at her brother. "He insisted I come...share your success. Was a pretty big case you guys smashed." "Well me and Bruce were the ones that actually linked him to 30 crimes forensically but I don’t wanna brag..." Tony quipped and Katie rolled her eyes. "And he’s so modest about it too." Bucky grinned, flashing a huge smile at the girl in front of him "James Barnes, Bucky." "Pleasure to finally meet you Bucky." She smiled "I heard a lot about you. I'm Katie, Tony's sister." "You're Howard's daughter?" Bucky cocked his head to one side and she nodded. "Your dad was a legend. Sucks what happened to him and your mom. Choking on fondue...no way to go." "Thanks. He was good man." Katie said. And then her eyes flickered to the blonde Captain who took a deep breath as her green eyes grew colder. "Hi Katie" he said softly.

"Captain Rogers." Her reply was a little curt, and it cut him to the bone that she could be cold towards him, especially after everything they had been through over the past almost 10 years. But deep down he couldn't blame her. He had been a total jerk. He deserved her indignation.

“How are you?” he asked.

“Good thank you.” she said.

“I hear you made Sergeant.” he said, and she nodded.

“Yeah, month or so back.” “Congratulations, you deserve it.” “Yeah, thanks, err…” She turned to Tony “Any chance we can get a drink, I’m gasping.” “For you kiddo, anything. Anyone else want one?”

Pretty much the entire unit nodded and they headed off to the bar leaving Steve and Bucky alone.

“Ok…” Bucky turned to his friend “What the fuck was that about?”

“I don’t know what you mean.” Steve sighed, looking back at him.

“Bull crap.” Bucky shot back “I thought you and here were fiends. When I was in Russia, for 5 years all I got was emails and shit telling me about her and what you’d been up to…now she looks like she wants to kill you.” Steve snorted “She probably does.”

“Wait, did you…” Bucky frowned, before his mouth fell open “You did didn’t you! You slept with Howard’s daughter!” “Shhhhh keep your voice down.” Steve hissed.

“Was that before or after he died?” “Bucky shut up.” Steve pinched the bridge of his nose and shook his head, looking at his friend.

“Does Tony know?”

Steve gave a derisive laugh “Do you think I’d still be alive if he did?”

“Good point, he’d have probably designed some kind of murder-bot to kill you in your sleep…” Bucky mused. “You sly little punk, I didn’t know you had it in you. Well, she had it in her more like, but that’s by the by…”

“Buck, I swear to God…” Steve’s nostrils flared at his friend’s crassness and Bucky gave a howl of a laugh.

“I’m just toying with ya Stevie…I’m impressed. She’s hot.”

“Not a word.” Steve glared at his friend as the unit started to make their way back, various beers and glasses of wine clutched in their hand.

Bucky mimed a zip closing across his mouth and smiled, slightly surprised as Natasha handed both him and Steve a beer.

“Thought you might need a drink.” Natasha said quietly to Steve, shooting him a knowing look as Clint did the same. Steve groaned, he should have known. Nothing got past Clintasha. He swore the pair of them had been fucking spies or secret agents in a past life.

“So Katie…” Clint turned to the youngest Stark. “How’s DC?”

She smiled “I love it. It’s a beautiful place. Not home though.” “She misses me.” Tony interjected and Katie slapped him on his shoulder, rolling her eyes.

“Like a hole in the head.”

Bucky laughed “What made you move over there?” he asked, ignoring the deep breath of annoyance from Steve to his left.

“Well, I wanted my Sergeant stripes” she said, nonchalantly “I was told there was no progression available in the 101st so imagine my chagrin when they replaced me with one.” Steve bristled slightly but he didn’t reply.

“Wait…I was your replacement?” Bucky frowned, looking at Steve.

“It wasn’t like that.” Steve said gently “The budget for a sergeant was only provided to me after you left Katie.” “Sure.” she shrugged “Anyway, it’s irrelevant now. The position in the SHIELD unit was too good to turn down so…” “Yeah you guys got a good result on the Mandarin Case.” Peter Parker looked at Katie

“It was hard going…” she nodded “I was undercover pretty much for a month, hence the haircut.” “Ha Steve knows all about being undercover….” Bucky snorted

“Shut up.” Steve said.

“What?” Bucky looked at him innocently “I was merely referring to your impressive moustache man…” Steve gave a groan as the unit began to laugh.

“As part of the Thanos op, Steve had to infiltrate the gang.” Tony looked at Katie who was frowning, not understanding the reference. “He basically shaved his beard off but left this God awful tache…he looked like a 1970s German Pornstar.” Katie snorted “Beard murdering…” she looked at Steve who simply shrugged giving her a small smile.

“Yeah well its coming back.” he shrugged, gently stroking his chin where there was a faint smattering of stubble.

“Hmmm.” she made a small noise, and then looked around, and smiled with a wave as Deputy Fury caught her eyes “Excuse me guys, I’ll be back in a moment.”

Steve watched her leave before he turned back to his team listening to their conversation. But he couldn’t focus. Just seeing her again was enough to send his head into an absolute whirl. She looked amazing, not that she hadn’t always. Maybe it was the fact he hadn’t seen her for 5 months that was making it worse. But all he could remember was her touch, the way her head would rest against his chest when he hugged her, the smell of her shampoo, the softness of her hand when she would take his…and then the feel of her lips on his, the smoothness of her skin…

Fuck! He had been a grade A jack ass.

Steve took another long pull from his bottle of Stella and looked around. Katie was just finishing a conversation with Fury and Pierce, before she excused herself and headed for the bar after shaking hands with both men.

Now or never, Rogers…

"I’m, err, going to get a refill..." speaking for the first time as he showed his team mates his almost empty beer bottle, "be right back."

“Course you are…” Bucky mumbled, as he watched Steve slope off. He turned to Natasha.

“So what’s the deal…” he asked, dropping his voice and turning side on to face her so that Tony wasn’t looking. “I mean I kinda figured something went down but…” “Well we don’t know for sure…” Natasha said “But they went home together after the Christmas party in December. Was a long time coming, they’d been dodging around each other for years.” “Yeah, both dating other people when it was clearly obvious they were head over heels for one another.” Clint added.

“But it got frosty. Like real frosty and she put in for a transfer request.”

Bucky sighed and looked over at Steve who was now stood by the woman. Stevie had always been useless with women, Bucky had all the luck in that department when they were growing up. That was until Steve went to University and discovered the Gym and signed up for an experimental Nutritional Programme called ‘Operation Rebirth’. 3 months later Steve’s physique had changed dramatically. Gone was the lanky, twig thin kid and in his place was a stocky, ripped, 6ft 2 adonis. Frankly it had put Bucky’s nose well out of joint as the women flocked around him. But he needn’t have bothered, he was still as fucking hopeless has he always had been,

And seemed he still was.

“What?” a voice said, and Bucky turned to see Tony stood there, looking at them, his brown eyes flashing as he glanced from Natasha to Clint and then to him.

Shit.

****************

When Steve reached the spot by the bar where Katie was waiting patiently for her Martini to be served (made with gin, obviously, he recalled as he had bought her enough- I’m not a heathen, Steve…) he gently touched her forearm and she turned around slowly with a sigh to face him. Steve know she had sensed his presence even before he touched her, she always could. Many years of friendship did that to you.

"Are you avoiding me?" he asked lightly.

"Does that surprise you?" she replied looking at him directly in the eyes.

"No, not really." he said looking shyly at the grass beneath his shiny black oxfords. With a sigh he looked back up, straight into those deep green orbs "Look, Katie, I hate how we ended things, I..."

"How WE ended things?" she cut in, "Are you for real? I didn't end anything, Steve, because there wasn’t actually anything to end was there? You made sure of that!"

"I'm sorry, Katie, I truly am." he spoke again.

"Sorry for what exactly?" she fired back.

She was pissed. He could sense it in the rising tone of her voice and the way her eyes seemed to squint in the way they always did when she was winding up for an argument. He had to do something before they attracted too much attention and Tony made an entrance.

"Look, can we maybe go for a walk by the lake?" he looked at her, his eyes pleading. "We can talk and errm..."

She sighed "Fine." and with that she started to make her way through the rest of the people at the reception heading towards the calm water. Once they reached a spot under a tree near a small jetty she stopped and turned to look at him.

"What do you want, Steve?" she asked shielding her eyes with her right hand from the sun that was beginning to set.

"To check in. I care about you, Katie" he answered looking at her with an almost apologetically.

"So, you care about me.” She snorted “That's rich."

"Of course, I do!" he almost yelled. "We've been best friends for what, almost ten years?"

“Were, Steve.” she stared at him, “Past Tense…”

He took a deep breath and looked away, the lump in his throat growing even larger. Her words feeling like a slap in the face, but he wasn’t sure exactly what else he had expected. Things hadn’t been the same. They hadn’t actually spoken since she had left for DC. And he was the reason she had left, regardless of how she dressed it up and pretended otherwise to everyone else.

He looked back at her, and saw her eyes. They bored right through him, a mixture of anger and melancholy.

He had to try and fix this, he had to….

“Look, Katie, I know you must hate me..."

"Steve..." she said putting a hand over his forearm, before pulling it back immediately, almost like it had been an involuntary reaction. And the fact she wasn’t comfortable showing him that type of friendly affection anymore made him feel even shittier than he already did. "I..." she was fumbling with the words and he remained silent whilst he waited for her to gather her thoughts. “You know what, you’re right, I did hate you. I hated what you did but…you know what the worst thing about all of this was?”

He looked at her waiting for her to continue.

“Was that I mostly hated myself" she finished quietly, her voice beginning to break and she looked away.

Steve was aghast at her statement. "Wha... what do you mean?" he asked stuttering. He wasn't prepared for something like that. Over the last few months his mined had conjured thousands of possible conversations and things she would say to him when they finally met each other again…but not that.

"I hated myself for letting you in, Steve" she inhaled deeply before looking back at him and continuing, trying to keep the tears at bay. "You knew how long it took me to get over Grant, you knew what that bastard did to me because you were there, you were my best friend. You wiped my tears, held me when I cried myself to sleep, you helped me pick up the pieces of myself, told me I was worth more. But then, when it came down to it…I clearly wasn’t, not to you anyway.”

Steve couldn't stand her gaze and looked down to his shoes, jaw clenching. "Katie, I..." he started to speak but did he know what to say?

"Let me finish, let me say this, Steve, please." she pleaded. "I trusted you, you knew how I felt about you, and you know how much it took to tell you that and let you in…" she swallowed hard "You broke through every goddamned wall I put up around me and what’s more, you broke me too."

"Breaking your heart was never my intention, doll" was the only thing he managed to say, swallowing thickly. He didn't even know how he could have possibly formed those words in his brain and actually uttered them, he was numb and wanted to tell her she meant so much to him, so much more than she could ever imagine…but the words just wouldn’t come.

"But you did." she said quietly, tears now threatening to spill. "And I need time to heal, Steve. There’s not going back from what happened. We can’t just go back to being best friends and hanging out…it doesn’t work like that.”

“Kiddo?” They both jerked a little at Tony’s voice as he approached. She hastily wiped at her eyes and Steve stood back, taking a deep breath. “You two alright?” “Yeah, just catching up.” Katie said, smiling at Tony.

“Huh, that what they call it?” Tony said, his voice somewhat steely and Steve felt himself blanche. He turned to Tony but before he could say anything, the man’s fist had connected with his face, cracking his nose, making him reel backwards.

“Tony!” he heard Katie say, loudly, and as Steve recovered from the blow he looked up to see her stood with her hands on his chest, pushing him away gently.

“I can’t believe you, you son of a bitch!” Tony was spewing, glaring at Steve. The Captain was relieved to see that Bucky and Thor were hastily making their way over. They were well enough removed from the crowd for this not to be seen, thankfully.

“Stark…” Thor said in his deep breath “Come on, calm down…” “Calm down, calm down?” Tony’s face contorted with fury “I just find out, he slept with my sister, and then…”

“I’m a big girl Tony.” Katie said gently “I don’t need you fighting my battles for me, not like I did when we were kids…”

“I knew there was a reason you ran off to DC, and all the time it’s been him!” he said, looking at her, before he glared back at Steve. “You’re a piece of shit, Rogers…”

Steve waved off Bucky who had stepped forward to check he was ok.

“Come on…” Katie said, pushing Tony’s chest, “Time we left…” With that she turned to Thor and Bucky, gave them both a smile before she locked eyes with the Captain “Bye, Steve" she said turning around and beginning to walk away with Tony. Steve could do nothing else but watch as she walked out of his life for the second time in less than 6 months.

“I’m sorry” Bucky looked at his friend as he wiped at his bleeding nose with a handkerchief. “He overheard me and Natasha and…”

“I’m surprised it’s stayed a secret as long as it has.” Steve sighed “I deserved it, he’s right, I am a piece of shit.”

“We all do stupid shit bud.” Thor said, “Doesn’t make us bad people.” Bucky looked at Thor “That’s pretty smart for you.”

“I have my moments.” Thor shrugged, before he frowned “Unless you’re my brother, of course. He is inherently bad…but that’s another story.”

There was a pause, and then Bucky looked at Steve.

“Think you need another drink.” he said, clapping him on the shoulder. “I’ll go grab you one.”

Steve smiled, knowing full well it was Bucky’s way of saying “I’ll give you a moment…”

His friend squeezed his shoulder before he turned and walked away leaving Steve stood, looking out across the lake. The tall blonde stood there, mulling the conversation they’d just had over and over in his mind. He knew he’d hurt her but now he understood the extent of that, he hated himself even more.

Steve Rogers was a man of honesty and principles. A man who believed that you faced up to your actions and took the consequences whatever they were, not merely hid from them. But here he had gone against every single thing he stood for. He’d let Katie walk away all those months ago without so much as a fight. Because it was easier, easier than being honest and explaining why he had done what he had done.

If time travel was possible, he’d go back and do everything differently.

@the-omni-princess @momobaby227 @geekofmanythings16 @angelofhell-666 @thewackywriter @marvelfansworld @cobalt-gear @asgardlover75 @jennmurawski13 @jtargaryen18 @saiyanprincessswanie @navispalace @patzammit @joannaliceevans-fanficblog @djeniiscorner @ayamenimthiriel @coldmuffinbanditshoe @disneylovingal @madzmilllz @sgtjaamesbaarnes @sweater-daddiesdumbdork @southerngracela @goldenfightergir @kellymat @official-and-unstable-satan

#csi rogers and barnes #the serious cereal serial killer #steve rogers x original female character #steve rogers x oc #steve rogers #bucky barnes #tony stark #clint barton #natasha romanoff #thor #bruce banner #wanda maximoff #nick fury #sam wilson #peter parker #csi au #alternate universe #avengers #avengers fanfiction

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sapphetti · 5 years ago

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Announcement

Hello!

My blog is going to change slightly and I want to be transparent and explain why.

My mistake:

So recently I have been looking into copyright laws and realized that oh shit some of my posts might be copyright infringement. I know I probably should have looked more into copyright laws before I started this blog but let me explain why I didn’t. Mainly, I saw a lot of people doing the same thing so I thought it must be okay. Secondly, my reasoning was “this blog is for a good cause, it’s not like I’m trying to gain financially from this so it must be okay”.

Well after reading up on it I have changed my mind. I was entitled to think that it was up to me to decide how another person wanted to distribute their artwork, and for this I am very sorry. But I don’t want to just say sorry and do nothing, I want to actually make up for it So what I have done these last few days is I have removed all the posts I suspect might be copyright infringement. This includes a lot of poetry, photography, screenshots from movies & music videos and modern paintings.

I will of course continue to post though. The change is that for my new posts I will take advantage of two cases where it is actually allowed to post artworks that aren’t yours. Those two cases are:

1. When the artwork falls under public domain. To my understanding, unless the artwork is protected under some special license (which seems to be rare), the copyright for an artwork dissipates when the artist of the artwork has been dead for 70+ years (in some countries the time is a bit shorter or longer than 70 years, generally it’s always 50-100 years). Today the year is 2020 so if the artwork was made by an artist that died before 1950 it is in the public domain and I can post it.

2. When I have gotten permission from the artist. Before I sometimes posted the artworks even if I couldn’t get ahold of the artist (like for example photographs by famous photographers or poetry by writers I didn’t know how to contact). But from now on I will only post artworks if I have gotten permission from the artist, even if it’s a famous artist that is difficult to contact.

Also, I have always done my best to reblog instead of posting artworks. Sometimes you might have seen me post artworks from smaller artist. The reason for that is that the smaller artist haven’t had a tumblr account, so I have asked them on instagram if they were okay with me reposting their art on tumblr and they have said yes. The artists I haven’t gotten permission from have been more famous, often older artists without social media or a website with contact info. But from now on I will try better to contact those artists, or if I can’t get ahold of them simply not post their artworks.

How this will change my content:

Paintings: There will mainly be older paintings, since they more often belong to the public domain. These might not be very diverse and are often made by men but of course I will do my best to make it as diverse as I can.

Photography: There will be less photography from famous photographers (such as Catherine Opie, Donna Gottschalk etc) and probably less photography overall since I will need to ask for permission every time (most photography was made in the last 50 years or so and therefore does not fall under public domain).

Music: There will be no screenshots from music videos as those fall under copyright laws. I will still post a link to the song and the music video (if there is one). By the way, I will not ask permission from musicians when posting their music as tumblr has a feature that I will use where you can post links to audio clips without it being copyright infringement.

Movies: I will not have any screenshots from the movies. Instead I will only have a link to the trailer of the movie, and I will try to always link the trailer from the official account that belongs to the movie’s creators so they will get the revenue.

Books: I won’t include a picture of the cover of the book. Instead I will link to the GoodReads page of the book where you can see the book cover.

Poetry: I will either post older poetry that falls under public domain, poetry that I have got permission to post or videos made by the poet where the poem is read out aloud.

Sculpture: Pictures of sculptures can fall under public domain, therefore I will only post links to websites where you can read about and see photos of the sculpture or in some cases links to videos where someone has filmed the sculpture.

What I need from you:

Please reblog instead of repost my posts. If you do not know the difference, please read this post.

If you see me making a post that you think is copyright infringement, please tell me about it and I will look into it.

If you own the copyright of an artwork I have posted and want it to be removed, tell me right away preferably through sending a message.

Respect the copyright laws. Do it for your own sake, do you really want to risk getting sued for a simple post? But more importantly, do it for the artist’s sake. Making a living through being an artist today is really difficult and people stealing art without giving proper credit is a big reason as to why. This causes a lot of people who might have created masterpieces to stray away from the art world. I don’t know about you but I love art and it would be absolutely amazing to see a world with more thriving artists in it.

If you really, really, really want to repost instead of reblog one of my posts please follow these guideline:

Look up who the artist is and if they are dead or alive. I always write the name of the artist in the post. From now on I will also include the year they died (if they are deceased) in the post. If you still find it unclear, message me and I will provide further explanation.

Is the artist deceased? Look up the laws about the length of copyright in your country (here’s a list). If the copyright for the artwork has dissipated, also look up if any special license applies to the artwork (my best source for this is Wikimedia Commons, let me know if you know of any other reliable sources for this). If the copyright for the artwork has dissipated and there is no special license applied, the artwork falls under public domain and you are free to use it however you like.

Is the artist alive? Contact the artist and ask them for permission to repost. Here is a guide of what to include when asking for permission.

Apply fair use. This is an exception to the copyright laws that applies when you are using someone else’s artwork for either commentary/critique or parody. I am not very knowledgeable in what exactly does and does not constitute fair use so I would advice you to look into this further through other sources if you’re interested.

I want to add that I have neither studied law or art so my knowledge on this topic is of course limited. If you have more knowledge of these topics and have something to add, please do so! I really value all your opinions and feedback.

Lastly I want to say that it’s okay to make mistakes. I mean I even just admitted to doing the exact same thing. But I also think it’s important we really start paying attention to this issue as every day I see tons of reposts of artworks that doesn’t even give credit to the artist and honestly it upsets me.

That is it for now! Sorry for a long post, but I have really been wanting to speak about this. Stay safe out there <3

ps. I have recently become more active on my instagram, so go give me a follow if you’d like!

TL;DR: I have made the mistake of not asking some artists for permission when posting their art, so from now on I’m gonna do that. I ask you to follow the copyright laws and reblog my posts, not repost.

#announcement #copyright #sapphic art #wlw art #art #public domain #permission #fair use #reblog vs repost #reblog #repost #sapphetti #paintings #music #photography #sculptures #movies #books #digital art

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ask-de-writer · 4 years ago

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SEA DRAGON’S GIFT : Part 37 of 83 : World of Sea

Return to the Master Story Index

Return to World of Sea

SEA DRAGON’S GIFT

Part 37 of 83

De Writer (Glen Ten-Eyck)

140406 words

written 2007

Reproduction in any form, physical, electronic or digital is prohibited without the express consent of the author.

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Users of Tumblr.com are specifically granted the following rights. They may reblog the story provided that all author and copyright information remains intact. They may use the characters or original characters in my settings for fan fiction, fan art works, cosplay, or fan musical compositions.

All sorts of fan art, cosplay, music or fiction is actively encouraged.

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New to the story? Read from the beginning. PART 1 is here

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Mord did not know what to make of what he was seeing and hearing. He was aboard the deadliest craft that he had ever heard of, and her commander, was crying — — — For enemy dead. He felt guilty about the thoughts of a few minutes before. Putting his arms about her, he held her until she calmed. She parted from him gently and sat him on one of the big cushions next to her.

Getting a grip on herself, Sula said with a cold rage, “When we find who did that to Kurin, I hope that we can take them without loss. If we do have to sink them, I will put them on the bottom without a tear. I have my sailors making inquiries to see if we can find the ones responsible.” Mord was glad that ferocity was not directed at his ship.

Mord seated himself and said, “We also have inquiries under way, as does the Council and a number of ships that are friendly to us.”

The problem of finding evidence solved itself. A young deck-hand of the Grython was brought in late that night, with the symptoms of Ord poisoning. His case was not as advanced as Kurin’s and he responded well to treatment, at first.

“Off with your shirt,” Dr Worran ordered him, intending to see if he still had the strength and coordination to do it. Wordlessly, the young man struggled with what should have been a simple task. The Doctor helped him, observing his eyes and respiration at the same time.

“Where did you get that inflamed patch on your right chest?” she asked him urgently.

He shook his head as if having trouble speaking, then mumbled, “Dunno … It itched a little, but it stopped.”

Doctor Worran picked up his shirt and felt something long in the right pocket. She removed it from his pocket with long tweezers. She applied a thin paste to the point and washed it off carefully.

She burst in on Sula and Mord, holding her find carefully in the tweezers. “Look what I found on that young man who just came in! I’ve a mind to let him die.”

Mord looked with horror at the Ord spine, revealed for what it was by the ugly greenish brown left by the testing paste. It was neatly mounted in a handle. It looked like an ordinary sail maker’s awl. “What ship is he from?” was all that he said, as he carefully looked over the lethal tool.

“The Grython,” answered Doctor Worran.

Mord said thoughtfully, “I would not have expected that. The Grython has been fast friends to the Longin for many Gatherings. We need to talk to this man, if he can still speak.”

They went quickly to the sick bay. Doctor Worran pointed out the inflamed area of right chest. “He was carrying the spine uncovered in his right shirt pocket. The poison worked through the fabric and his skin.”

“I see,” said Sula. “He probably did not know what he was carrying, then. I wonder how he got it?”

The sailor struggled against unwilling muscles to turn his head towards them. His voice was almost inaudible, and he was clearly fighting for the breath to speak at all, “I won it on a dare. A pair of sailors bet me a whole Selked-made sail stitching kit that I couldn’t poke the awl into Kurin’s lunch unseen, for a prank. I didn’t know it would hurt her. When I heard what happened, I took the awl from the kit and started to come here. I didn’t make it. I’m sorry.”

“You did well. Who were they?” asked Mord. “What was their ship?”

“I don’t know for sure,” he husked. “I saw one them in the Grandalor’s booth earlier. I did recognize the other, but didn’t realize who he was until too late. He was Silor Elon. I don’t know where he is now.” It was a grim and angry pair of Captains who headed topside. By now the sun was beginning to rise on the eastern horizon.

Mord told his Craft Masters what had happened and added, “This perfidy must be reported to the Council. Who will go with me?” Every hand went up. Master Juris asked to look at the awl.

“There is Selked’s mark. That means that he made this aboard the Grandalor,” he pronounced like it was a doom.

Chapter 12a: Flight of the Grandalor

“Dark Iren devour those fools!” Barad raged. “Nobody will believe that we tried to stop them. We will all swim for their idiocy! By the time that the Council finds their mistake, they will have to send their apologies by way of Iren’s Orcas!”

Mister Timms paused in his duties long enough to agree, saying, “As many of us was involved in one way and another, Sir, I’m sure that you’re right. Many inquired about the Ord and many more worked in the experiments. Best we give the Council time to cool down before we try to explain.”

All about him the crew was quietly and efficiently preparing the Grandalor to get under way. Tanlin was at the small floating dock, greeting each boat and speaking quietly to the new arrivals as the crew inconspicuously came aboard, a few at a time. Occasionally, a boat left the ship with a few folk on it.

Moonlight glittered across the water, pursuing little Dorac over the horizon. All about them, only the stars and the running lamps and masthead lights of the sleeping Naral fleet provided any light. It would be six hours before swift little Dorac rose again, followed shortly by mighty Wohan. Six hours of darkness. Six hours to flee for their lives.

Without tocsins or shouted orders, cables were slipped from the anchorage float and sails were set as silently as the wind allowed. As she began to move, her masthead lights and running lamps were extinguished, one by one. Following the constellation known as the Sea Hawk, the Grandalor raced SSE through the darkness under all of the canvas that she could fly, with no lights showing, straight away from the sleeping Gathering.

As soon as the last of the masthead lanterns of the Naral fleet fell below the horizon, Barad wrote an extensive Log entry and took out his Three Dragons set.

Tanlin, who had just come off duty as First Officer of the Second Night Watch, relaxed into the cushions of one of the cabin’s chairs and looked on with interest.

“W’at’re ye doin’, Luve?”

“Trying to save our lives and our ship, in that order. I have entered the whole true account of Kurin’s poisoning into the Log. It cannot save me. Unless we escape the fleet, I will die for Kurin’s murder. It may well save you and others innocent of the killing.”

“T’at’s a good t’ing t’at ye’re doin’, m’ ‘Eart — — ‘ow’ll T’ree Dragons save us?”

“I have broken the course rose into seven possible tacks. The dice will tell us which way to go. If white lands on a number less than fifty, we hold course for an hour and roll again. Whichever of these two dice eats the other gives us the course to follow, from this table. He held up a tallow-slate with a neatly made table on it. If neither one eats the other, we split the difference for our course. We exclude only courses that we know to be dangerous.

“Roll the first one, Tanlin, and pray to the Dragons that it’s a good cast.”

As the dice rattled in the cup Tanlin thought, ‘E knows t’at ‘e’s doomed. Even i’ we go t’ t’e Arrakans, t’ey won’t shield ‘im from murder, so w’at does ‘e do? ‘E still t’inks o’ gain an’ loss but now ‘is t’ought’s for t’ose close t’ ‘im an’ ‘is crew. ‘Ow many in ‘is place wad do as much? Few. Nane t’at Oi can t’ink o’. An’ Oi married ‘im! Pride swelled in her heart as the dice bounded clattering about the board and came to rest.

They leaned over the board together and she put an arm about his waist. He absently stroked her hair and put an arm around her as he read the fall of the dice.

“Dragon eats skelt, seventy three.” He consulted his chart and figured the correction for the present course in his head. “East-North-East. That will take us across the fleet, just out of their sight.” As he straightened, she wrapped her other arm about him and gave him a spontaneous kiss.

“So close? Shall Oi t’row again?”

“No. A better course could not have been chosen. If there is pursuit and I am sure there will be, it will make us hard to see because of the glare of the early sun. It also cuts back and across our track. Any trying to find us by following our course will be thrown off as well.”

“Oi’ll take care o’ t’e corse change, Luve. Ye’ve ‘ad a ‘orrible day. ‘Ow long do we ‘old ‘t?”

“Seven and a half hours.” He looked down at her for a rare unguarded moment. Why did it take so long to find you? I know that Teralat would have liked you. The memory of his long dead wife hadn’t hurt since he’d realized that he actually respected Kurt— no, Tanlin. He now knew for certain that his feelings had become more than respect.

“Aye, seven an’ a ‘alf ‘ours. So, seventy t’ree? T’e forst digit’s t’e ‘ours an’ t’e second’s t’e minutes by tens?” she questioned as she set the water clock to time the tack.

“Yes. You know, I married you for more than your stunning good looks.”

“Oi know. Ye got t’ose t’.” She flipped her fall of hair saucily as she left. Arriving on deck, she became a First Officer.

TO BE CONTINUED

<==PREVIOUS NEXT==>

Return to the Master Story Index

Return to World of Sea

#SEA DRAGON’S GIFT #Part 37 of 83 #World of Sea #Written by De Writer

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justthinkingofwaystoavoidbusses · 5 years ago

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Not really active anymore

Hi to anyone who still follows this blog

As I’m sure youre aware I don’t really post many fics on here and my requests have been closed for what I think is nearly 2 years. Im so thankful for all the people who still follow, like and reblog my stories. I occassionally check this blog and it warms my heart to see that activity around my stuff isn’t completely dead.

Im currently in the process of moving all of the stuff I’ve written on here over to my AO3 account peggy_hamilton if anyone is interested. I’m not editing anything, just a straight copy and paste. Im doing this bc A) i was curious about what my overall word count was for everything here and ao3 does that, and B) i just prefer the layout

So, to people who do still send me requests thank you for liking my writing style but I can’t guarantee it’ll ever get done. That goes to the people who submitted requests before I closed it (if you even remember doing so). I started this blog in the summer before I went to college (2016) and when I started college my ability to maintain this blog dwindled, and now im at university even more so. Ive always felt really guilty about not getting round to requests. I have one which Im fairly sure was requested in jan 2017 that ive not done. However, I just went through my badly compiled doc of requests and put them in a list and found out this:

In the time ive had this blog ive recieved 177 requests. Ive not completed 16 of them. It was a bit of relief bc 161/177 aint that bad. I thought it would be 50% or more incomplete.

So while the likelihood of me writing those last 16 is rare (i deeply apologise if that was one of yours) i would like to say thankyou for all of your support that got me through 161 fics, i never imagined it would be that high a number.

but yeah, all of my stuff will be posted on ao3. Im still keeping this tumblr so dw it wont get deleted. Theres a few band of brothers fics on there that arent on here if you were interested in them.

Thank you <3333

#personal #this blog isnt active that much anymore #if you still wanna send me ask memes etc please do #and you can technically request fics if you want bc ill add them to my list but id recommend asking someone whos writing rn

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thevortexofourminds · 6 years ago

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On leaving Tumblr

I’ve been on Tumblr for about six years with this blog. It’s a niche blog with a small number of followers (but WHAT amazing ones. I love you guys and girls) - at least when we look at the numbers that some of the bigger blogs have. Numbers are not important to me. And the number of followers doesn’t say anything anyway. I love this blog, and my only interest always was to create a blog that I would want to follow. And apparently, there are a handful of people who have the same kind of interests as I have. My photography-blog @tvoom is bigger. The number of people following this blog and the number of notes on some of my photos - to me personally - are mindblowing. Even though this blog probably still doesn’t count as a big blog, I would have never expected that my photos will ever attract this attention. My more experimental photo-blog @tvoom365 is very small. One reason certainly is that I rarely post anything and hardly ever “promote” it. Or maybe the photos are not as good ;) But the feedback was always astoundingly positive.

One of the biggest mistakes I made in my time on Tumblr was to delete my writing-blog. Two years of writings and recordings were gone. I deleted the blog because I realized that the reason I made that blog in the first place was not a “reason” for me anymore. I was stupid enough to think that just because that one thing in my life which made me start writing (again) changed, I will have no reason to write anymore. HA! Well... at least I still learn. I might be stubborn but not THAT stubborn.

I learned two things through that:

a) Stories don’t have a meaning beyond the meaning that we assign to them. And we can assign any meaning we want to. So a story changes by how we read a story. You as the reader and I as the author are equal parts in the creation process. And neither your opinion nor my opinon is the “right” opinion or the “correct” way to understand or interpret a story. Because what’s in your head is nothing I can change anyway. So... I will not apologize for what’s in your mind. Because I didn’t put it in there. It’s the old “When a tree falls in a forest and nobody is there to hear it - does it make a sound?” thing. No, it doesn’t. The falling of the tree creates changes in air pressure. But "sound” is only created by the listener. And what that specific sound means to the listener... that’s dependent on the listener and highly personal. So much for “objectivity” ;P After this face-palm moment, I started to write and record again and gathered a tiny but wonderful audience.

b) Tumblr is not @staff or @support or a CEO or any person who “pulls the strings”. Tumblr is you, and me, and everyone who has a blog. A community only exists because of the people who take part in it. Agreed, the boundaries changed, but what we put within these boundaries... that is upon us. In the last five years or so, I put a tremendous amount of time and effort into doing my part in creating an environment in which a community can grow. I met dozens of wonderful, creative and amazing people, I was fortunate of having the privilege of being part of some of the coolest projects that I can imagine. And all of these things are and were only possible because of the people involved. People who do and did what they do and did DESPITE all the hardships. DESPITE all the problems. Who just did what they love doing and not to gain anything from it. I have the deepest respect for all the creators and curators of all sorts of genres on Tumblr. Because I KNOW how hard it is to keep something going for years and years and years. Thank YOU for doing what you do. And to those of you, that I have the privilege of working with directly (too many to mention): I love you all. And I am grateful for you. All I did and all I do was only possible because of you and the thousands and thousands of supporters, artists or no. Leaving Tumblr would mean that I’d not only give up on what I’ve achieved and what I’ve been doing for years, what I was part of building up, but it would also mean that I’d be giving up on myself. Heck... it took me decades to find out who I am. I will not give up on this crazy dumbfuck that I am ;P Because that is what I am. I am a person who creates, I am a person who loves to share knowledge, beauty, art, and sometimes (well... quite often) a stupid joke. I love to share my experiences and art in all sorts of ways. And since Tumblr never was a platform that allowed me to do this in exactly the way I wanted to, I always used other platforms as well. Tumblr’s video-player is probably the worst in the history of the internet, so I’ve been posting my videos to YouTube. Tumblr’s audio-player is a bad joke, so I post my audios to Soundcloud. And I embed that all in my Tumblrs.

Tumblr’s “adult content ban” will most certainly go down in internet-history as one of the most hypocritical “internet moves” ever. The interesting bit is that it probably will be known as “the porn ban”. Which is not even true. I’ve seen people post claims like that “Tumblr now defines nude-photography (or anything that the dysfunctional algorithms flagged) as porn and therefore bans it”. That’s not true. The truth is worse. The truth is not even that Tumblr bans genitals and therefore also porn. Yes, nudity and genitals are banned. And porn is banned. Smarter people than I wrote in much more intelligent ways than I ever could what’s bad about this. But rarely have I seen anyone write about the real big problem. The big problem is that the new community guidelines of Tumblr are sexualizing women by banning female nipples except for photography of breastfeeding and medical reasons. So, the legality of showing parts of the female body is based on the function. If the photo does not depict this function, the photo is deemed sexual. And sex is forbidden. While male nipples don’t have any other function (at least not that I’m aware of, please educate me) other than being an erogenous zone. Just think about this for a moment. Male nipples are allowed. Because banning male nipples... that is prudish, isn’t it? But looking at how incredibly hypocritical and bigoted the western world (and especially the US) is at the moment, this just fits, doesn’t it?

The question is: Should we let the idiots win? Only the unorthodox, the ones that pushed boundaries, the non-streamlined, the experimentalists - in short - the “un-normal ones” make the world evolve. “Conservatism” derives from “to conserve”. And we only conserve what is already dead so that it doesn’t start to smell. It’s too late Tumblr. This doesn’t smell. It already stinks.

Some people will HAVE to go to other places to not compromise on their art or self-expression, leaving Tumblr only a stump of what it once was and maybe will never recover from. Unless we creators find a way to stay true to ourselves and use the base of what is still here to create something new and amazing. As a curator of (also) artistic nude-photography, an occasional artistic nude-photographer myself, and an artist who also makes “adult-themed” art, Tumblr is dead for me in this specific area. Will I use a different platform for these things? Since “adult writing” is not banned (yet) I can continue here. For the rest: Maybe. I might re-open my Flickr (Flickr belongs to the same company btw... and allows artistic nudes... hypocrisy much? Edit: I learned that Flickr was sold to SmugMug) or I might start a DeviantArt account. I don’t know yet. I will certainly reference these new places in case I’ll decide to give it a go. Fact is that I will expand. Creativity is change. And no, we will not like each and every change. But hey... that’s life. As long as we change, we live. Also, I will certainly not let stupid, bigoted, greedy, hypocritical liars limit me. And the big lie is that it was never about “making Tumblr a better, more positive place”. It very much sounds like “Make Tumblr great again”, doesn’t it? It’s the same set of mind. The same priority: Greed. It was always only and exclusively about money. And apparently, Tumblr can make more money with actual Nazis still around and with nudity banned. I am German, my great-grandparents lived through a time in which real artists had to flee a place and the Nazis stayed...

Another thing: How is Tumblr a better, more positive place with the porn-bot problem still not being solved? Granted, we will not see any visual porn anymore, but the bots are still there. And they still follow and reblog posts, they add or even replace the original content (”thanks” to the prior Tumblr “improvement”) with links to shabby sex-sites and “sex offers”. That is your more positive Tumblr, @staff . Congrats! You fucked up royally. Because now it’s even evident that this was never your concern anyway.

Since @pwsfineartnudes cannot continue after December 17th, 2018, and I was asked to join @abstract-challenge (after Amy sadly left Tumblr for personal reasons), maybe that is one way to expand. So I will happily and gladly try to find ways to contribute to this - for me - very new and very different fascinating photographic adventure. Thank you for the challenge and the trust you put into me.

Rock on, my friends! You are Tumblr! You will only get out of it what you put in. You are amazing! Always have that in mind.

- Pete

#artists on tumblr #staff #tumblr #fuck censorship #tumblrisover

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sassysatsuma · 6 years ago

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Follow You - 3/?

Fandom: Assassin’s Creed Odyssey

Rating: M

Characters: Kassandra, Brasidas,

Ships: Kassandra/Brasidas (slow burn, Spartans to friends to lovers)

Summary: “Against all of her better judgement, Kassandra already felt bonded with Brasidas, a friendship that she’d tried to fight for fear of what it might become. He was a man she admired, respected, trusted. A man who in another life may have even been someone who could have had her heart. He was everything she should avoid, everything that could make her vulnerable.A potential weakness that she couldn’t afford.“

An Assassin’s Creed Odyssey AU, where Brasidas joins Kassandra and the rest of the Adrestia’s crew.

Author’s Note: Takes place after ‘And the Streets Run Red’ main quest mission, so be wary of spoilers!!The developing love story of Kassandra and Brasidas in an AU where he joins the crew of Adrestia and becomes Kassandra’s trusted second in command and confidante. The slow burn, Spartans to friends to lovers romance that I wanted Ubisoft to give me. Feel free to like, reblog or signal boost!

Read it below the cut or here on AO3.

“But there will come a time, you'll see, with no more tears. And love will not break your heart, but dismiss your fears.”

Mumford & Sons

The closer the Adrestia came to Naxos, the sicker Kassandra became.

It was an odd sensation, hurtling through the waves towards a woman who she hadn't see in 17 years, Myrrine the unattainable goal that she'd been searching for ever since she'd washed up on Kephallonia's shore. Her mater represented everything that Kassandra had been missing; the family she longed to be a part of. Seeing her again had been her true drive ever since the moment she’d lost sight of her on Taygetos, before the world slipped into darkness and she woke up, broken, bruised and alone.

Myrrine had always been so far away, even when Kassandra had her own ship and crew and the means to follow her. But now she was just so close.

Too close. Although Kassandra wanted nothing more than to see her, there was a growing part of her that felt raw, opposed towards the very idea. The seeds of doubt were already in her mind, the worry that she'd not be enough, that she'd be a disappointment. That someone simply being alive and able to find her mater after everything would not be enough. It was terrifying to feel so out of control and vulnerable, a sensation that grew and grew the closer they sailed to Naxos.

Kassandra didn't deal well with feeling weak, in truth she wasn't used to the emotion. And so, she did what she always did when faced with emotions she didn't want to feel. She hid away, retreating into herself for fear of letting the crew see her so exposed.

It almost worked too.

It was the early hours of the morning and Kassandra was below deck, hunkered down in what was considered her "quarters". In reality it was simply a portion of the ship's hull that was cordoned off and called hers, thin planks and curtains cutting it off from where the rest of the crew ate and slept. Inside, Kassandra kept only the sparsest of possessions; a chest for her armour and weapons and a smaller, ornate trinket box that held oil and a bone comb for her hair. The only other furniture was a place for Ikaros to call home, fashioned from an old, gnarled tree branch that protruded from the floor. A favoured resting place for her most trusted friend when he grew tired of circling the skies above the Adrestia and the waves.

Now Ikaros was sitting atop his perch, squawking content whilst Kassandra fed him another hunk of meat from the end of her knife. It was supposed to be hers, but with her appetite well and truly lost, she figured that at least one of them should benefit from the meal.

"Hungry tonight, aren't you?" She smiled softly, stroking the downy feathers at his throat affectionately. Ikaros squawked again, although this time the sound was quieter, as affectionate a sound as the bird could make. "Get some rest, friend. I'm going to need you in the morning."

"Shouldn't you be resting too?" A voice, most definitely not Ikaros' startled her and Kassandra jumped in her skin, cursing under her breath at the chuckle she earned from the intruder. She looked to her left, to where Brasidas held the curtain that covered the doorway to one side. He was grinning as per usual, his face softly lit by the low lamplight of the room.

"I could say the same to you."

"I'm not the one meeting my mater in the morning." He shrugged, surveying her with those eyes that read her so easily. "Should I stay or go?"

"You can stay." Kassandra nodded in response, trying to be as nonchalant as possible in her agreement despite the little voice in the back of her thoughts scolding her for giving them even more time to be alone. She turned her back on him, returning to her bedroll and sitting down with crossed legs. "But close the curtain, I'd rather at least maintain the pretence of privacy."

She watched him closely, his movements careful as he did as she asked, replacing the curtain as though it had never been disturbed. Bare footed, he stepped towards Ikaros, reaching out and rewarding the bird with a soft stroke to the head as he passed. Traitor. Ikaros had accepted Brasidas right from the start, something that the bird did very rarely.

It had been one of the reasons that he had earned Kassandra's trust so easily, her companion the best judge of character that she knew. Now, that trust merely pushed at her resolve.

"I didn't bring wine this time." Brasidas smiled, seating himself in front of her. "I thought you'd disapprove."

"It's probably best to meet my mater not smelling like a taverna." Kassandra laughed. "Thanks."

"There'll be plenty of time for her to learn the truth about her daughter..." He teased, dodging her attempt to swat at him with the back of her hand. "I'm joking of course. You tend to smell a lot better than most mercenaries."

"And you'd know that how, I wonder?" This time it was her turn to taunt him, a smirk pulling at the corners of her lips. "Sounds like someone has a sordid past?"

"Sordid?" Hardly. I've just fought a lot of mercenaries in my time."

"Sure... fought."

"I fear that you think I'm far more interesting than I actually am, Kassandra." He raised an eyebrow curiously, still smiling although his eyes were there again, perpetually reading hers. "I'm not known for my gift of seducing every mistios in my path. Apologies."

Just this one then. The thought chased across Kassandra's mind before she could stop it, but she kept her face blank under his scrutiny. Already chiding herself for letting their conversation twist into almost flirting, Kassandra paused, already too aware of the need to shift to more innocent topics. It was then when she realised that for everything Brasidas knew about her, she knew so little about him. He was always so quick to speak about everything but himself, happy to laugh and joke and deflect whenever directly questioned.

She decided there and then that needed to change.

"Maybe it's because we always end up talking about me and never the other way around?"

"But you're so much more interesting than I am, mistios."

"I doubt that."

"Says The Great Eagle-Bearer!" Brasidas grinned. "How could a humble soldier compete with one blessed by Zeus himself?"

"You could tell me and maybe we'll find out?" Kassandra rolled her eyes, her overly inflated title feeling all the more alien when spoken by a man she considered a friend. "Tell me about yourself, Brasidas. Where's home?"

"Sparta."

"Obviously. But where?"

"You misunderstand..." He paused, all at once looking as on edge as she’d ever seen him. She watched as he all but considered lying to her, an anxious hand rubbing at the back of his head.

"… Home has always been an abstract idea to me. There was a place where I grew up, yes. A family too. But it isn't something I long for in the same way that maybe you do."

"And where is this family?"

"Dead, mostly.” His reply was blunt, but the sigh that left his lips betrayed his true emotions. “My mater went to Elysium not long after I was born. I’m told my pater was never the same after she died. He was Tellis, a man from a humble family but as loyal a Spartan as you could find. He was the man who taught me and my brother the importance of our shields, who pushed us to embrace our agoge training and to honour the Gods."

"You have a brother?"

"Had." A sad smile flickered across Brasidas' features. For a moment his eyes left hers and flicked around the room in a desperate attempt to buy himself time. When his gaze returned to hers, there was a sadness reflected in his eyes, although it was also tinged with pride. "Iasonas. He was my elder by a couple of years and the very image of my pater. We trained through the agoge together, then sailed together as soldiers. He was everything I ever wanted to be."

"How did he die?"

"In battle with the Athenians. We were separated, Iasonas chosen to lead a garrison of men whilst I was sent abroad to spy. His ship was surrounded by the Athenian fleet and overcome. I was told that he died honourably."

"Brasidas..." Kassandra found her mouth empty of words, guilt creeping into her thoughts at the realisation that she by being so wrapped up in her own grief she’d never stopped to think about what tragedies might have befallen her friend. "I'm so sorry."

"Don't be, his death isn't your burden to bear. It was painful, for a time... I held myself accountable for not being there with him when he needed me. But I know now that if I’d been there, pater would have lost two sons instead of one that day."

"Everything you said about Phoibe..."

"I’d known that loss.” Brasidas nodded in agreement, fixing her with a kind smile. “That night above Athens, I saw everything in you that had filled me when Iasonas died. Seeing a friend go through that was difficult. I wanted to help."

"You did." Kassandra stated bluntly, caught somewhere between sympathy and empathy for his loss. "Others tried, but only you managed it."

"The Gods have given me a great gift, to be able to get through that thick skull of yours." He laughed softly, at home on more familiar ground. Leaning back on his hands he surveyed her with curious eyes. "Or perhaps... it's because we are more alike than we think?"

"Which mountain did your pater throw you from?" Kassandra teased in return, her smirk breaking into a full-blown smile when he laughed heartily at her joke. There was always a pure kind of happiness that flooded her soul whenever she made him laugh, the sight as beautiful as it was endearing. "We could compare scars."

"I imagine pater wanted to throw me from a mountain many times growing up. He was always so frustrated with me. Iasonas was always the better fighter, but I had an interest in so much more. I lapped up every story about the Gods, thought myself a modern-day Prometheus for a time with all my schemes. As I grew older, my interest switched to history and politics. I cared more for how Sparta was ruled than for fighting purely for its honour."

"And pater didn't approve?"

"Pater didn't understand." Brasidas shrugged. "Politics, history... these were things he considered less important. My interest in them only seemed to anger him. He used to joke that I was the most Athenian of Spartans... but it was never something that he took pride in."

"He sounds as blind as Nikolaos." Kassandra shook her head, his words ringing all too familiar. "You fight better than most Spartans I've met, but a country needs more than just warriors. I don't pretend to understand the Athenians and their symposiums but their enthusiasm about philosophy and learning isn't always a sign of weakness."

"And that is why I like you, Kassandra. You've travelled, seen the world for what it really is. Seen both Sparta and Athens for what they truly are. People like us see the best and the worst in both. Our paters are from a different world. A different time."

"For all his faults, Nikolaos was always proud of me. He found no weakness in showing it. I can't imagine what it was like for you."

"It was a childhood, no worse of better than any other. My pater was a great man and I was fortunate to have my brother." Brasidas smiled fondly. "Just as you are fortunate to have Myrrine.”

"And what if I'm a disappointment?" Kassandra's voice faltered at that, her anxieties suddenly crashing back to the forefront of her thoughts. She looked up at him with worried eyes. "What if she expected more?”

"There isn't a mater in the world who wouldn't be proud of you. Believe me, you couldn't be anything more if you tried."

"And you are biased." Kassandra shook her head, her hands reaching up to comb her fingertips through her knotted hair. For once it was loose, hanging down past her left shoulder in unruly thick tendrils. It was only when the hair passed from between her fingers that she realised her hands were trembling. "We're getting close."

"Are you ready?"

"How can I be? I'm about to meet the woman I've feared dead for so long, a woman who thinks that I'm dead. How do you even begin to prepare for that?"

"I'm not sure you can." Without further word, Brasidas stood, a fluid movement that startled her with its suddenness. Half expecting him to leave, Kassandra watched closely as he stepped around her, lowering himself to his knees again behind her on the bedroll. In an act of by now characteristic kindness, his hands chased hers away from her hair and he took it between his own fingers, gently pulling the strands into a braid identical to the one that she normally wore. "The Fates have already decided your path, Kassandra. All that remains is for you to follow their lead."

It was the gentlest gesture she could remember. His fingers were soft, knowledgeable as they twisted her hair together diligently, a constant ghosting presence against her scalp that brought with it more comfort than it should have. Without realising, Kassandra relaxed into his touch, long held tension dissipating from her shoulders and neck. She couldn't remember the last time such a small action had brought her so much peace, her heart aching for the closeness that she worked so hard to deny it.

And then it hit her like a wave. Phoibe. Memories of all the nights on Kephallonia when she would let her braid her long hair, whilst her friend spoke wistfully of eagles and blessings from Zeus. On those nights they had talked for hours, Kassandra telling Phoibe what little she remembered of Sparta whilst she told her tales of when her parents had been alive. Those nights had been the start of them becoming like family, Kassandra living in the fantasy of the childhood Phoibe had shared with her loving parents.

A childhood they'd both been robbed of all too soon.

Suddenly the pain was back, reminding her that Phoibe would never beg to braid her hair again.

Vulnerability followed in an instant, playing on her anxiety and pushing her over the brink. As Brasidas tied off her braid, Kassandra felt a tear slip from her welling eyes, the salty liquid painting a long, slow line down across her skin. She turned her head away, praying to whichever God might be listening that he wouldn't see her weakness, but with Brasidas nothing went unnoticed.

"Kassandra?"

"It's nothing." She shook her head dismissively, pulling her newly formed braid gently from his hands in the process. She turned, looking to where Ikaros sat on his perch and blinked away her remaining tears. "You just reminded me of Phoibe."

"There's no shame in feeling."

"But there is shame in weakness." Kassandra sighed, returning her gaze to his. "There's more honour in strength."

"Now who sounds like a stubborn Spartan?" Brasidas' smile possessed a warmth that blinded her and she faltered, transfixed by the creases that framed the very corners of his lips. "Don't turn into your pater, Kassandra. You'll break my heart."

With a tenderness that she'd denied herself of for so long, Brasidas reached forward, his thumb and forefinger resting under her chin and slowly lifting it upwards so that she looked upwards. All at once, Kassandra's heart thundered in her chest; the sudden realisation of just how close he was dawning on her. Frozen in place by brown eyes that had fully ensnared her, she was helpless to do anything else but watch as he pressed closer, his lips grazing hers with a gentleness that felt like a question.

His question didn't go unanswered for long.

She kissed him back, leaning into his touch, completely lost to every inch of him. For a single, blissful moment, they stayed that way, locked in a soft embrace that threatened to end them both. Brasidas never pushed for anything more, although his hand moved to frame her face, his thumb rubbing away the damp trail her tears had left behind. When he finally broke the kiss, he didn't withdraw, instead keeping their faces close as he rested his forehead against hers.

"We shouldn't." Kassandra spoke first, her words betraying her emotions as she struggled to save face. She didn't pull away, she didn't have the heart to, but the beating of it in her chest had her scrambling to save herself from falling further despite it all.

"... We aren't." Brasidas smiled, still so close that his breath tickled against her lips. "You think too much."

"And you don't think enough."

"Perhaps that's what the Fates intended." He pulled back at that, broadening the gap between them. For a moment there was silence, his lips parted as though he had more to add. Instead, he lowered his gaze, smiling to himself before moving to stand. Kassandra started to stand too, but his outstretched hand stopped her, a shake of his head telling her that he didn't expect her to follow. "Sleep first. Focus on your mater. I... should have picked my timing better."

With that, Brasidas was gone, the room feeling so much colder without his presence within it.

Ikaros squawked indignantly in the background, but Kassandra barely heard him, her hand tracing her lips as she fought to process the kiss they'd shared. Her mind was split, halved by the fear of letting him get so close and by the relief of knowing that he cared for her just as much as she cared for him. It was a strange duality, one that comforted just as much as it scared her.

He was a weak point, a chink in her armour to be exploited. But he was also a place of strength and comfort when she was determined to give herself neither. Perhaps Brasidas was right. Perhaps the Fates had made them to be as two sides of the coin on purpose. Or perhaps that was simply Kassandra's traitorous heart talking.

With the night only promising more questions and precious few answers, Kassandra took her friend's advice, rolling over towards the oil lamp that lit the small room and extinguishing it, plunging both herself and Ikaros into total darkness. Fumbling for her blanket in the darkness, she pulled its comforting weight up and around her body, settling into her bedroll and the warmth that came with it.

Perhaps a rested mind would bring the clarity she so desperately needed. Even if it didn't, at least the peace of sleep would give her relief from the emotions flooding her system, if only for a little while.

#assassin's creed odyssey #assassin's creed #brasidas #kassandra #kassandra/brasidas #assassins creed odyssey #assassins creed #ac odyssey #ac #kassandraxbrasidas #kassidas #sass pretends to be a writer #fanfic #ac fic #ac fanfic

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7wanderingpaws · 6 years ago

Text

11. Epilogue

Genre: magic / soulmate AU

Pairing: Jackson x reader

Word count: 2.8K

Song: Shura - Whats It Gonna Be? (<3)

Synopsis: You are more than happy in relationship with Jackson Wang, the hard-working and successful fencer representing Hong Kong. So what happens when you visit a local witch wanting to know more about your future as a couple? Because you always knew he was the right one for you. Even in another life. But would he really be the one?

*** 1. // 2. // 3. // 4. // 5. // 6. // 7-1. // 7-2. // 8. // 9. // 10. // 11.

(( Wowzers! Its the final chapter already. Im quite speechless to be honest, because I grew fond of this story ever since the basic idea popped into my head and would bug me until I wrote the the first 2-3 chapters in one sitting. It was one of the most wonderful writing experiences. THANK YOU, endlessly THANK YOU for liking, commenting, reblogging and following. I wish I could throw my emotions to show you how much it means to me. I hope this last part will be enjoyable. Im a cheesy girl. On my blog things end well :) dont blame me. Let me know what your thoughts!! ))

Special thanks to MARAH <3

- - - Epilogue - - -

San Jose, California, 2020

“Are you sure we are doing the right thing?” you asked anxiously as you drove up the uneven road on a very familiar street. “I mean, last time I was here when we were together, it didn’t end up well.”

“Yes, but that was when I wasn’t my absolute, upmost happiest on the entire planet,” answered Jackson, taking your hand in his to kiss your knuckles. His other hand was on the steering wheel, driving the rented car up the road.

“What if somebody will see us?” you muttered, growing smaller and smaller on the passenger seat. “We don’t need any more new rumours.”

Jackson chuckled as he let go of your hand, so he could push the car into reverse to park it in front of the house. “Babe, c’mon. We both know we couldn’t care less about those things. Besides, you work in Team Wang. You can do any possible step against those suckers if you wish so. I will always be by your side supporting you.” He was looking behind the seat to ensure he filled up the entire place. He turned around and winked at you. “I’m actually excited. Yay. Let’s go.”

You exited the car and hand in hand walked to the doors, ringing the doorbell.

“You only support me cause you would go down the drain with me as well if I wouldn’t do the necessary steps,” you commented again, not letting him go just yet.

“Sure, honey, whatever you say,” he laughed and pressed his lips to your temple.

You smiled, both of you knowing well you were just joking.

When the doors opened, a familiar face of the old man appeared, his kind expression already inviting you inside. “Welcome! Please, do come in. Henrietta is will be finished with her customer-”

“Yes, we will wait, thank you,” you answered before he could finish, knowing the entire sentences all too well.

Jackson gave you an amused look as you took a seat in the living room. The house was filled with wonderful, mouth-watering smell that was coming from the kitchen. The old man was just taking out a big stack of cookies out of the oven.

Gosh. No matter how many times you were here and relived everything again and again, nothing, and I repeat, nothing could come even close to this beautiful, harmonious smell that you were sniffing in that house. It was generous and maybe full of love; that’s why it was so good.

Jackson took a hold of your hand, his big eyes curiously scanning the surrounding. “What if she will say we are not meant to be and have to break up right in this very moment?” he quipped, his eyebrows just under his hairline. He looked so funny when he was trying to be fake-serious.

You. Loved. Him.

“Well, then we break up. I mean,” you shrugged, not bothered, “you have to listen to what the witch says, right?”

He was trying to maintain the serious face, but his facial features loosened up and one of the most breathtaking smiles spread across his face, his eyes wrinkly, his (cute) teeth out, his cheek-bones up. What a sight...

He leaned in to kiss you when the doors behind you opened.

“Oh, I apologise for letting you wait, my clients are-” Henrietta stopped mid-sentence when you and Jackson stood up at her sudden entrance. You had Jackson’s hand tightly gripped in yours just above your tummy. You smiled. “Oh my goodness,” said Henrietta, lacing her fingers and bringing them to her chest. “What a beautiful couple are you! Please, do come in, do come in,” she said excitedly as she let you into her office.

Yes, the windows were still tinted, the room still harmonious and well-organised. It didn’t change one bit.

You took a seat opposite her chair, Jackson once again looking around with innocence.

Henrietta sighed as she sat down behind the long table, her cards neatly prepared. “I know you.”

“We know,” you smiled shyly, breaking Jackson’s hand in your tight grip.

“I see you made it.” Henrietta’s face was pure bliss. Her eyes couldn’t stop looking at you and Jackson as both of you exchanged glances.

You lowered your head, having a hard time getting such affectionate glances from the witch.

“Yes, we did make it,” Jackson said, his face also smiley and proud. “It wasn’t the easiest of the roads but here we are.”

Henrietta was nodding many times. “And why did you come all the way here? There is not much I can help you with.”

“What do you mean?” you asked, recovering from the heat in your cheeks. “We would like to hear your opinion now, in this current life, when Jackson is an artists, I’m an accountant, no fencing, no doctors, no ... nothing like before.”

“And that is exactly how it should be, my dear,” Henrietta replied, your heart jumping quickly. “Everything is as it should be now. There is no reason for you to worry whatsoever. You both evaporate happiness and satisfaction.”

You both nodded.

“So how was Y/N like when she came here for the first time?” asked Jackson out of nowhere, a cheeky glint in his eyes.

Your eyes widened, giving his bicep a slap. “Excuse you.”

“She was just as beautiful as she was now,” Henrietta replied without any obstacles. “But do you mean in this life or the previous one?”

“This life. I want to know how she was like when she found out,” said Jackson honestly.

“She was freaking out a lot. Oh, you are missing that wonderful friend of yours, Sofia-”

“It’s Sara,” you and Jackson said at the same time.

“-Sara, yes, and she was like a lion, fighting to know what is the truth. I can understand that Y/N was frustrated with what was happening. There aren’t many situations like yours. Not everyone on this planet has their soulmate.”

“Soulmate?” you frowned. “That sounds a little bit crazy.”

“But that’s what you two are,” answered Henrietta, her voice suddenly deep and mysterious. “There are very few soulmates in this world and you seemed to find each other in both worlds. As soon as one of you would see the other, you would know there is some connection. Don’t be overexcited, not everyone has those feelings. Many people are with someone just for the sake of being in a relationship, to not feel alone. Your relationship is on a universe-level. It was always written in the stars. Either way, you were supposed to know each other and I’m truly happy I was able to experience this rare phenomenon.”

Well, that sounded like some museum-like text for a dinosaur. Processing her words was one thing. Living and actually making her words come true was a completely different thing.

The two of you exchanged looks.

She was right.

The stars aligned.

You clicked.

Seoul, South Korea, 2026

“I swear I always get lost in this country,” you mumbled to yourself angrily. “No matter how many times, always, always, always,” you sighed desperately. So what if you were already above thirty. Thirty-year-old people get lost TOO!!!

Except, it was 2am, the metro was closed, the buses were not in service anymore, there were barely any people and even if there were, you spoke as much Korean as you did Icelandic. Nothing. Zero. How did they say hi again? Annyogfkfosyf??? Yes, that could be.

Looking around, you tried to find a friendly face that could be of any help. Isu metro station was located on a massive crossroads surrounded by tall, modern office buildings. But there was not a single person who was kind enough to help a stranger out.

You tried English. “Excuse me!”

Nope, they wouldn’t even look your way. Of course. This was not an English speaking country.

Before you could really start getting scared, you tried to stop a taxi. But the road being a big main road, there was almost zero chance they would pay any attention to you.

The reason why you were freaking out was simple: your phone was dead. No battery, no life, no hope, no reason to fight in this life anymore. If the phone gave up, the humanity could easily do so as well. This way, you couldn’t call Jackson.

“I’m gonna make both of us die,” you muttered to yourself unhappily, when another person completely ignored you.

“Excuse me, can you please help-”

“Hello, sorry, do you know how can-”

“Annyofabsfkjas,” you tried, exasperated, your tongue twisting and breaking. How on Earth did they say hi in Korean? Where is Jackson when you needed him? Why was your phone dead? Why were you even here?

People ignored you. And even walking a little bit couldn’t help, the city was too big and you were too small. “Shit.” Wiping a tear away, you tried your phone once again but, of course, it wasn’t working. “SHIT.”

You ran a little bit, your heels clicking on the pavement. Reaching out your hand, a taxi must stop for you. There was no way one damn taxi wouldn’t stop for you.

A little cry escaped your lips. “Please.”

Just then, there was a sports car speeding up on the road and it abruptly stopped right in front of you, its brakes and wheels screeching loudly, making you flinch. This was it. This was when they would steal you and murder you for organs.

The door for passenger seat opened. “Get in.”

The voice was strict, but there was no hesitation as you swiftly got into the car.

“Are you crazy?” Jackson was angry, his eyes sending daggers your way. His left hand was on the steering wheel as his whole body was turned towards you. The door was closing itself.

“I’m sorry, you know I always get lost and my phone was dead-”

“You are pregnant, Y/N,” he snapped, worry written all over his manly face. “It’s dangerous for you to be out at this time all by yourself.”

You sighed, already tired. “But you found me,” you said, gently reaching out for his hand. “You found me. Just like you always do.”

Jackson’s features softened, his anger dissipating slowly but surely. He gave out a deep sigh. “I was so worried about you.”

“I was worried about myself too, thanks,” you laughed, touching his cheek.

He smiled and turned to fasten his seatbelt again.

“Jack?”

“Hmm?”

“I’m hungry.”

He gave out a breathy laugh. “Of course you are. It’s freaking 2am. Your pregnant-self loves to eat at this convenient time.”

“Well, lucky me that we are in Korea where the deliveries are non-stop working,” you winked at him and looked out the window.

He grabbed your thigh with a lustful squeeze but his eyes were trained on the road. “Damn, and how much I love that you are here with me.”

And by the time you arrived at your apartment that you owned in Seoul, the black-bean noodles have arrived, warm and fresh. You devoured it all, and still managed to swallow sour pickles.

“Your appetite,” commented Jackson tiredly. He wouldn’t go to bed without you. No, never. He was over that part of his job. He was now his own boss, working on many projects, attending many galas with you by his side as his wife of 6 years.

Oh. The wedding!

Your wedding.

The wedding of you and Jackson.

The time when Jackson married you.

The time when you married Jackson.

That day...

... was one of the most watched weddings of the century.

So what if William took Kate? And Harry took Meghan? Nick took Priyanka?

Jackson Wang took you. And many watched. Many supported.

A superstar is taking a normal, ordinary person that is not part of the entertainment industry. You were just a normal person, breathing oxygen like others, shining in different directions that the other artists. You had a soulmate. You had Jackson.

This is how you became one of the biggest searches on Google and Naver. Who were you? What were you? They wanted to know everything.

Everybody wanted to know the woman who was smiling brightly as she was walking down the aisle, the only person she could ever imagine her future with waiting on the other side having a squirtle look and still looking so handsome, so lovable, so kind, so Jackson.

The other special thing was, that you didn’t have a massive wedding. Yes, Jackson wanted to have half of the world present to see his happiness, but he still listened to you. It made you uncomfortable to be in front of so many people. You wanted close family and great friends surrounding you.

So he did it that way.

And the wedding night was even more special than the entire day filled with flowers, good food, lots of laughing and dancing till the early morning.

Jackson was still spinning with you in your hotel room, dancing to music, both of you tipsy with love for each other.

There was no gentle and slow love-making. There was no wild and crazy sex.

No.

You cuddled up, shared a wonderful, passionate kiss and while you were silently giggling into each other’s mouths, whispering stories from your wedding day, how someone would trip and fall, how some people interacted, you just kept giggling and smiling, both of your eyes still shiny even in the darkness of the room, you slowly drifted into peaceful sleep, Jackson’s arms around you, your front pressed against his chest as his chin rested on the top of your head.

Both of you had comfy pyjamas on, make-up removed and teeth washed.

You decided you would not have children until you reached a certain age. During that time, you would enjoy your freedom. You followed Jackson almost everywhere, you would sneak out, be silly, you would make decisions together that would benefit for both of you.

Of course, there were fights. What kind of relationship didn’t have fights? They could be cruel at times, but neither of you ever meant it. There was safety around both of you.

You were guaranteed for each other...

...

... until this guarantee was broken years later when your water broke. Thankfully, you were in Hong Kong where you always planned to give birth to your children. Jackson made sure he didn’t have any plans that included travelling too far from Hong Kong as he wanted to be present in the hospital.

And now, it was three years since your guarantee for each other was made more flexible and had to cover also twins that were born. Plus-

“Jackson,” you said as you came out of the toilet. Jackson was lying on the floor, one twin - Sofia (after Jackson’s mother) - on top of his chest, the other twin - William (after nobody in particular) - was at his feet, trying to take his sock off.

He looked up at you questioningly trying to hold Sofia so she wouldn’t hurt herself. “What is it, baby?”

“It’s happening again,” you muttered, trying to look nonchalant around kids.

“Daddy was talking to meeee!” wailed Sofia again. “He calls ME BABY!!!”

William was always the quieter one. Definitely your genes.

“Happening what?” he asked and swiftly grabbed giggling Sofia, putting her down so he could stand up and walk over to you.

As you were standing on the doorstep to the bathroom, he supported his hand on the wall next to your head as he leaned in.

“I’m pregnant.”

He raised his eyebrows at you, not that surprised. After all, you were making these “mistakes” in the bed very willingly and happily. Slowly, one corner of his mouth lifted, his dad face long gone and his flirty face in the game. “Are you now?”

You shot a quick glance to the kids who were oblivious to you. You nodded as your eyes dropped to his lips. He licked them.

“You are freaking awesome,” he mumbled and kissed you, pushing his tongue right in, startling you.

You tried to suppress your moan, wrapping your arms around his neck. “You are responsible for it, though,” you breathed, capturing his lips again.

He grumbled, pushing you inside the bathroom, making you walk backwards. “We will be right with you, don’t be mean to each other!” he shouted towards the twins before slamming the bathroom door shut as you giggled loudly. He quietened you right away with his passionate lips, his hands all over your body as he pressed you to the wall. “I always wanted three kids.”

“Well, what if it’s another pair of kids?” you asked.

“Then I say it’s a happy life too,” he laughed pressing his forehead to yours. “I love you. I love you. I love you.”

You squeezed your eyes shut and gave him a chaste kiss before you mumbled with your lips and tip of your nose pressed to his cheek. “And I love you.”

<3 <3 <3

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