#sam reads capri

[lucky-clover-gazette]

kings rising highlights & annotations

chapter 3

indented text is from the book. some quotes have commentary, some do not. some comments are serious, and some are definitely not. most of them will only make sense to people who have read the series. and, like, there are spoilers. so please read the books first if you're interested!

also: part of the reason i'm doing such a close reading is to study cs pacat's style, especially in terms of how she does romance and erotica. there are "craft notes" that might seem weird, like i'm being redundant or restating something rather than analyzing, but those are more things that i want to remember/take away from the writing!

i'm going to tag these longer posts with "sam reads capri" in case anyone wants to read them all at once.

this is a google doc i wrote with overall content warnings for the captive prince series. it's not perfect, but i do think it's important to include.

The Regent’s forces were rivers of darker red, driving inroads into their lines, mingling their armies together, like a stream of blood hitting water, then diffusing.

He killed, and it was simply that men got out of his way, or were dead.

He had grown used to something that had been temporary, like the flash of exhilaration in a pair of blue eyes for a moment catching his own. All of that tangled together inside him, and tightened, through the killing, into a single hard knot.

something about the way this is written just hits me in the abandonment issues

‘If the Prince of Vere shows himself, I will kill him.’ Nikandros half spat the words.

nik private twitter venting moment #2

The ground was wet, his legs were mud-spattered above his knees—mud in dry summer, because the ground was blood.

i don’t know man i feel like after a point you have to just be like. hey. why are we doing this again? like yeah i get that fighting in a military force can be for A Cause but unless you’re directly involved in enacting ideological change, aren’t you basically just cannon fodder

On the far side of the field, he saw the flash of embroidered red. That is how Akielons win wars, isn’t it? Why fight the whole army, when you can just—

i’m guessing the part in italics in a previous laurent line, about damen killing auguste at marlas?

He used the little name that Damen had been called as a boy; the childhood name, reserved for intimates.

the fact that is was kastor specifically asking the veretians to call him that…

Damen realised that he was on his knees, his own chest heaving like the chest of his horse.

laurent’s horse will be glad to know that damen’s horse lived. because, as we all know, they’re in love

‘Over?’ The word grated out of him. All he could think was that if the Regent still lived, nothing was over.

it is interesting how, even when he thinks laurent screwed him over (see previous chapter), damen has this uncontrollable rage towards the regent rather than laurent. i think this has more to do with the regent killing his men and trying invade his country, though. and maybe just that it’s easier to hate him than laurent. “regent = bad” is something that’s easy for damen to comprehend right now, while laurent’s whole thing is a lot more confusing and intimate

And with returning awareness, he saw as if for the first time the bodies of the men that he had killed to get to the Regent’s decoy, and beyond that, the evidence of what he had done. The field was a rutted earthworks strewn with the dead. The ground was a churned mess of flesh, ineffective armour and riderless horses. Killing ceaselessly, for hours, he had not been aware of the scale of it, of what he had caused to happen here. He saw flashes behind his eyelids, faces of the men he’d killed. Those left standing were all Akielon; and they stared at Damen as at something impossible.

damen holy shit… i guess that’s one way to reclaim your authority. and he didn’t even mean it as a sign of intimidation, he just wanted to get to the “regent.” who by the way was just some random guy RIP

‘Find the highest-ranked Veretian still living and tell them they have leave to bury their dead,’ said Damen. There was a fallen Akielon banner on the ground beside him. ‘Charcy is claimed for Akielos.’ As he rose, Damen wrapped his hand around its wooden pole and planted it in the earth.

not sure if calling it an akielion victory despite the combined forces is just customary, or intentionally out of spite. i’m leaning on the former, since it’s damen and not laurent we're talking about

The herald came cantering across the devastated landscape on a white, glossy mare with a curved neck and a high, flying tail. Beautiful and untouched, he made a mockery of the sacrifice of the brave men on the field. His banner streamed out behind him, and its blazon was Laurent’s starburst, in blue and shining gold.

here is an excerpt from a post i made while reading king’s rising for the first time:

“damen when he realizes he’s not in a slow burn romance with problematic beginnings, but a complex psychological thriller in which the smartest fictional character i have ever personally encountered has decided to make his life a living hell and also they’re in love with each other but the psychological thriller stuff is way more important to his bitchy blonde nightmare malewife and he is SO down bad and just has to deal with laurent’s mean girls 4d chess petty nonsense bc it’s enrichment for him and damen will kill anyone who gets in laurent’s way and he can’t even pick up the very very VERY clear implications of laurent’s trauma that would probably allow them to reach some kind of vulnerability equilibrium in their relationship”

on a re-read, i think this is a great time to dig into that a little more ;)

SO what i love about so much of laurent’s choices in the next few chapters is the fact that much of what he says and does is entirely petty. like, yes there’s always strategy and trauma and depth as usual, but i think it’s not denying him depth to say that he is 20 years old, this is his first love in the midst of an extremely stressful and messy situation, and despite his own wishes he cannot prevent his emotions from affecting his actions. laurent has had control over so much of the situation with damen thus far, both with the power dynamics between them as master and “slave” and the fact that damen didn’t know that laurent knew who he was. but now laurent knows that damen knows, so all of his previous and future actions are going to be under damen’s scrutiny in that context. they’re equals now, and the secrets reinforcing laurent’s prior cognitive dissonance have dissolved. that leaves laurent vulnerable (especially after being tortured and genuinely letting damen down even if by accident) and emotional compromised (he has no choice but to see damen as damianos, and with that comes all of the auguste baggage and the fact that they’ve already fallen in love and had sex under different circumstances).

all that is to say, the next few chapters are laurent’s mean girls era. he is, again, still being smart and strategic (4d chess), and his feelings are valid and his trauma is real. however, he is also just being MEAN, for the same reasons classic high school movie mean girls tend to be: he feels insecure and vulnerable about his romantic attachment to damen, stressed out by the insane amount of power he definitely should not have, and self-righteous about all the ways the world has conspired against him. regina george might have been the villain of the movie, but she was the hero of her own story. janis and cady methodically dismantled her life as a popular, powerful, and confident person. that’s why she got revenge with the burn book instead of looking inward and acknowledging her own issues, of which there were many. she had a machiavellian view of life, in which mean people always won, and so being mean in retaliation was how she could protect herself from being a victim.

that is laurent’s perspective too, for a lot of this series. we don’t know anything about regina’s backstory, or heather chandler’s (another great example), but we do know exactly why laurent has the worldview he does. he used to be sweet and it made him a victim. so he is mean to protect himself, even if that robs him of his sweetness. damen’s integrity and honor have challenged laurent’s worldview, though, and that has been the source of a lot of laurent’s slow reconsideration. but now that laurent can’t just pretend that damen isn't damianos, now that he has to accept this situation in its full interpersonal and political messiness, he isn’t nearly as inspired. laurent assumes, now that laurent has gone “mask off,” that damen will realize that laurent doesn’t deserve the love he has shown him in the past. because laurent has been mean to damen, by lying about his awareness even at the times damen thought he was being earnest and sweet. that makes damen a victim and fool—two things laurent deeply fears being, and therefore assumes everyone else also fears in themselves. two things the regent had wanted laurent to consider himself, by placing damen in his life in the first place.

therefore, in his insecurity and vulnerability and anger, as a 20 year old just experiencing his first love, as someone with a lot of power and stress who cannot waste time or energy on genuinely confronting his own flaws in good faith, laurent is gearing up to be sososososo mean to damen specifically in the next few chapters. like comedically mean. aimlessly mean. pathetically mean. on purpose. ultimately, if he must be alone (which he obviously must, says laurent's brain), laurent would rather be the villain of someone else’s story than a victim in his own. that, at least, is similar to book 1 laurent—but while he was a cat playing with a mouse in book 1, in a position to do serious damage to his opponent, now he’s more like…. a cat, slapping another cat. evenly matched, but still throwing hands. transparently insecure and pathetic, only effective in doing emotional damage in ways he doesn’t intend. damen isn’t hurt by the petty things laurent says and does, because he sees through them for what they are. he’s hurt because laurent sees them as necessary to protect himself and keep his distance, when all damen wants is to make things okay between them. which laurent would never expect, because he assumes that damen wants nothing to do with him, and would be happier and better off if they stayed apart.

basically: unstoppable force (damen's persistent caring) meets unmovable object (laurent's refusal to be genuinely cared for). the only way for this cycle to end is for damen to choose to stop, or for laurent to choose to yield. laurent will eventually make that choice, but he still has to be a huge bitch about it first. he's going to lash out at damen and challenge him to stop caring, but ultimately fail—both because damen is just built different, and because he's lowkey written as a fantasy partner for emotionally volatile people with attachment and abandonment issues.

rest assured, laurent’s genre is still psychological thriller, but it’s also now a high school drama movie. and damen is about to get a bitter taste of that, with pretty much no choice in the matter. this poor man will have to deal with laurent’s bitchy theatrics as they try to co-parent an army, and he’s already too emotionally invested and aware of laurent’s habit of lashing out when he’s in pain to genuinely fight back.

this could also be called laurent’s s1 catra era, but i’m not sure what the venn diagram of capri and she ra enjoyers looks like. to those who get it—laurent is doing what catra did at princess prom for the next several chapters, down to the “hey adora” = “hello lover.” this dynamic is very fun to read because it doesn’t overstay its welcome. it’s different from laurent in book 1, or catra in general, because it’s so clearly pathetic, damen and laurent are on the same side of the war, and damen could technically make it stop at any point. so i think it’s very very fun, while it lasts >:)

The herald reined in in front of him. Damen looked at the mare’s shiny coat, not dirt-covered, not heaving or darkened with sweat, and then at the herald’s livery, in immaculate condition, unflecked by the dust of the road. He felt it rising at the back of his throat. ‘Where is he?’

damen showed up to the prom laurent planned with him to unite their rival high schools, only to find himself dateless and laurent’s promised fancy party decorations missing. this is the moment where damen checks snapchat (i was in high school from 2013-2017) and sees everyone from vere high at their own immaculately-decorated prom, where laurent is being crowned king. little does damen know, laurent was blindsided by the vere-only prom and forced via social pressure to be there since everyone elected him prom king. they’re mad at each other for a high school drama pacing-typical period of time, and then make up when they realize the misunderstanding and reassert their dedication to each other.

laurent did still murder someone with a chair, though. but like a metal folding chair from the band room

The herald’s back hit the ground. Damen had dragged him bodily from his horse into the dirt, where he lay dazed and winded, with Damen’s knee in his stomach. Damen’s hand was around his neck.

His grip tightened before it opened enough to allow the herald to speak. The herald rolled onto his side and coughed as Damen released him. He pulled something from inside his jacket. Parchment, with two lines on it. You have Charcy. I have Fortaine. He stared at the words, written in familiar, unmistakable handwriting. I’ll receive you at my fort.

lamen hr complaint #5 (unnamed herald): ragdolling this guy over what should be impersonal, professional correspondence

also, because i can't help myself:

Fortaine eclipsed even Ravenel, powerful and beautiful, its towers high-flung, its jutting crenelles biting the sky. It rose to a sheer, impossible height and, from every vantage, it was flying Laurent’s banners. The pennants seemed to float on the air effortlessly, patterned silk in blue and gold.

WELCOME HOME, BROTHER KILLER

Rows upon rows of peaked, coloured tents were pitched on the field outside Fortaine’s walls, the sun lighting the pavilions, the banners, and the silks of a graceful encampment. It was a city of tents, and it camped a fresh, intact force of Laurent’s men, who had not fought and died through the morning. The constructed arrogance of the display was intentional. It said, exquisitely: Did you exert yourself at Charcy? I have been here examining my nails.

this is funny and i wouldn’t put it past laurent, but also i’m not sure if he like. really meant this part of it specifically to piss damen off. he was just tortured idk he probably just wanted things nice. a good part of the fun of lamen divorce era is remembering that damen���s interpretation of events isn’t necessarily accurate, and that it’s hilarious how he interprets things as petty personal slights even when they might not be. they’re both so obsessed with each other and it’s great

Nikandros reined in alongside him. ‘Uncle and nephew are alike. They send other men to do their fighting for them.’

nik tweets this verbatim on priv (#3)

Damen was silent. What he felt in his chest was a hardness like anger. He looked at the elegant silken city and thought about men dying on the field at Charcy.

but not exactly anger—betrayal? heartache? self-consciousness?

Some kind of herald’s greeting party was riding towards them. He gripped the Regent’s bloody, torn banner in his hand.

the phrase “greeting party” just made me imagine them rolling up with like confetti and a speaker blasting the celebration song. while damen holds the bloody torn banner

‘Just me,’ said Damen, and put his heels into his horse. About halfway across the field, he was met by the herald, who arrived with an anxious party of four attendants saying something urgent about protocol. Damen listened to four words of it. ‘Don’t worry,’ said Damen. ‘He’s expecting me.’

lamen hr complaint #6 (more unnamed heralds): disregarding protocol

(also “he’s expecting me” girlllll)

Without even pulling off his gauntlets, he strode to the tent. He knew its high scalloped folds; he knew the starburst pennant. No one stopped him. Not even when he reached the tent and dismissed the soldier at the entrance with a single order: ‘Go.’ He didn’t bother to see if his order was obeyed. The soldier let him through: of course he did; this had all been planned. Laurent was ready for him whether he came docilely behind the herald or, as he did now, the dirt and the sweat of the battle still on him, blood dried in the places where a cursory swipe with a cloth had not reached it. He swept the tent flap back with an arm, and stepped inside.

again i do have to question, beyond the drama, how much of this is as intentional and petty as damen thinks it is. like, the heralds literally cite protocol, damen knows this is the correct way for a camp to be run. i think he is assuming a lot here, although it’s reasonable to do so. we have seen in the past that damen assumes things of laurent that laurent is just like, “uh. not everything i do is on purpose” about, or damen is just WRONG about. i just wonder if damen’s approach here confirms things laurent was worried about (damen thinking poorly of him now that they’re on even ground), further fueling the fire of his rejection-sensitive bitchiness. not that it’s an excuse, or even undeserved, but it’s good to remember that there are two sides to the story.

like to damen, this is an angry post-battle rush of a moment to confront laurent and speak his truth (he doesn’t know laurent knows who he is), but to laurent this is like. post-torture and escape, and basically being thrown into the deep end of vulnerability with damianos and what this all implies to auguste’s memory. we’re not getting the best or most rational version of either of them right now, which is great for the drama but also makes the narration less reliable

This was the place Laurent had chosen.

right. damen thinks laurent chose this place to hear the truth about him, because the “you have charcy” note implies that at some point laurent probably figured out that damen is damianos. therefore laurent chose this occasion for them to meet each other, as they truly are by birth, for the first time. damen just doesn’t know the twist that laurent has always known who he’s been, and has chosen everything else before now with that knowledge too

There were a few furnishings, low seats, cushions, and in the background a trestle table hung with its own coverings, and set with shallow bowls of sugared pears and oranges. As though they were going to nibble at sweetmeats.

the same guy who ordered the “sorry you were given a severed head and discovered a suicide” fruit basket in prince’s gambit had to order a “sorry i gaslighted you for 2 books but not really because you also technically gaslighted me” fruit basket in kings rising

He lifted his gaze from the table to the exquisitely attired figure leaned with a single shoulder against the tent pole, watching him.

lucky number laurent lean #13!

Laurent said, ‘Hello, lover.’

It was not going to be simple.

this being the follow-up line to “hello lover” is such a good combination of funny and tension-building. like laurent’s cunty tableau immediately put out damen’s fiery righteous indignation and now he’s just like “oh this is going to suck.”

He made himself breathe through that. ‘Your men think you’re a coward. Nikandros thinks that you deceived us. That you sent us to Charcy, and left us there to die by your uncle’s sword.’ ‘And is that what you think?’ said Laurent. ‘No.’ Damen said, ‘Nikandros doesn’t know you.’

this is really a testament to pacat’s cleverness, how in chapter 1 there are a lot of moments where it’s almost like damen is directly saying he thinks laurent screwed him over—nikandros and the herald saying it and him not disagreeing, him accepting the reality that laurent is not going to show up—but he never does truly say that he thinks the abandonment was on purpose. because he didn’t, and he doesn’t, which makes sense. but he’s still angry and confused and also just concerned about how laurent is taking the “news” that he’s damianos. how much of damen’s anger about laurent’s composed appearance is projection of his anxiety about laurent seeing him as he truly is, a powerful authority figure in his own right who just won a battle against insane odds?

it’s so ambiguously written that it’s almost like pacat WANTS us to spiral. which i did, and will probably continue to do, so well-played. these books are like evil catnip to anxious overthinking theater people with attachment issues and an interest in understanding complex fictional situations to cope with the fact that real life never makes enough sense. also kinky gays but let's be real that's just a trojan horse for the other stuff

‘And you do.’ Damen looked at the arrangement of Laurent’s weight, the careful way he was holding his body. Laurent’s left hand was still casually resting against the tent pole. Deliberately, he stepped forward, and clasped Laurent’s right shoulder. Nothing, for a moment. Damen tightened his grip, and ground in with his thumb. Harder. He watched Laurent turn ashen. Finally, Laurent said, ‘Stop.’

proving that he knows laurent well enough to pick up from his posture alone exactly where he’s been injured. also they’re both so messy, like let’s put pressure on each other’s literal and figurative wounds instead of just talking about our misconceptions and feelings, awesome

He let go. Laurent had wrenched back and was clutching his shoulder, where the blue of his doublet had darkened. Blood, welling up from some newly bandaged, subterranean place, and Laurent was staring at him, his eyes oddly wide. ‘You wouldn’t break an oath,’ said Damen, past the feeling in his chest. ‘Even to me.’

damen proving to himself, and proving to laurent, that he knows that laurent didn’t screw him over, and instead was injured and failed to show up. laurent is shocked by how quickly damen picked up on this. also ow

He had to force himself back.

he doesn’t want to see laurent in pain, or know that he’s causing it :( which is especially unfortunate given the conversation they’re about to have about damen murdering laurent’s brother

Laurent didn’t answer. He still had a hand clutched to his shoulder, his fingers sticky with blood. Laurent said, ‘Even to you?’

“you wouldn’t break an oath, even to me” (“even to me” being a sort of freudian slip, meaning “i killed your brother, and i’ve known that this whole time and i haven’t told you, and you have a good reason to hate me for that”) “even to you?” (to damen’s incomplete understanding: “well i know who you are now, and if i’d known before i would have broken every oath to you i’ve ever made”)

He made himself look at Laurent. The truth was an awful presence in his chest.

babygirl it’s about to get so much awfuller

He thought of the single night they had spent together. He thought of Laurent, giving himself, dark-eyed and vulnerable, and of the Regent, who knew how to break a man.

damen totally sees laurent as his “victim” right now, set up well by him re-opening laurent’s physical wound. damen fucked this man while knowing that he (damen) killed his (laurent’s) brother, and put trust in him. if they were normal, or this was a normal story, that’s where the confrontation would end. it would be that simple—damen didn’t mean to hurt laurent but still did, and laurent has to forgive him for that, and forgive himself for being fooled—and then it would get tearfully resolved because they love each other so much that it doesn't matter. but they are not normal, and this is not a normal story, so…

Outside, two armies were poised to fight. The moment was here, and there was nothing he could do to stop it. He remembered the Regent’s constant suggestion: Bed my nephew. He had done that, wooed him, won him. Charcy, he saw, hadn’t mattered to the Regent. It hadn’t meant anything. The Regent’s real weapon against Laurent had always been Damen himself.

damen thinks the regent’s plan had been to weaken laurent by putting him in circumstances where he’d unknowingly make himself vulnerable with his brother’s killer, triggering him emotionally and destroying his judgment. i'm pretty sure that this was basically his intention, but had also made sure that it would also torture laurent even if he did recognize damen on the spot.

personally i think the regent knew that laurent knew in book 1 through observing his reaction, but had planned for both possibilities in advance. what he hadn't expected, though, was for laurent and damen to start genuinely working together instead of against each other. this happens early as the thing with patras, and really pops off during the botched assassination attempt.

charcy was meant to drive a wedge between them, to correct the regent's previous miscalculation. and given the inevitable truth damen must now reveal, there's nothing he can really do to stop laurent from being upset.

‘I’ve come to tell you who I am.’ Laurent was so keenly familiar, the shade of his hair, the strapped down clothing, the full lips that he held tense or cruelly repressed, the ruthless asceticism, the unbearable blue eyes. ‘I know who you are, Damianos,’ said Laurent. Damen heard it, as the interior of the tent seemed to change, so that all of the objects in it took on a different shape. ‘Did you think,’ said Laurent, ‘I wouldn’t recognise the man who killed my brother?’

the way i YELLED during my first read. i remember even like posting something before, like “oh my god damen just tell him put this poor man out of his misery,” and then after i got to this part i immediately went and deleted that post

Each word was an ice chip. Painful, sharp; a shard. Laurent’s voice was perfectly steady.

do you think he practiced this?

‘I knew in the palace, when they dragged you in front of me,’ said Laurent. The words continued, steady, relentless. ‘I knew in the baths when I ordered you flayed. I knew—’

he definitely practiced this

‘At Ravenel?’ said Damen.

“you knew when you kissed me and let me fuck you????”

‘If you knew,’ said Damen, ‘how could you—’ ‘Let you fuck me?’ His own chest hurt, so that he almost didn’t notice the signs of it in Laurent, the control, the face, pale at any time, now white.

he almost didn’t notice the signs, which means he still totally did. because even now, damen is attentive and caring towards laurent

‘I needed a victory at Charcy. You provided it. It was worth enduring,’ Laurent spoke the terrible, lucid words, ‘your fumbling attentions for that.’

LIARRRRRRR

It hurt so much it took the breath from his throat. ‘You’re lying.’ Damen’s heart was pounding. ‘You’re lying.’ The words were too loud. ‘You thought I was leaving. You practically threw me out.’ He said it, as the realisation blossomed inside him. ‘You knew who I was. You knew who I was the night we made love.’

tbh i think this kind of realization would make me have a panic attack on the spot. also do you think this is the kind of betrayal he’s been trying so hard to avoiding confronting, coming from kastor and jokaste? but here he has no choice to confront it, because laurent is forcing him to understand the depths of the deception. no avoiding it now

He thought of Laurent surrendering, not the first time, but the second, the slower, sweeter time, the tension in him, the way he had— ‘You weren’t making love to a slave, you were making love to me.’

very true, but laurent isn’t ready to deal with it. he can’t keep up the cognitive dissonance in the present, but that doesn’t mean he’s about to accept that it was real in the past. instead he’ll just lash out.

And he couldn’t think that through clearly but he could catch a glimmer of it, a glimmer of the edge of it. ‘I thought you wouldn’t, I thought you’d never—’

OF COURSE damen suspected, at some points, that laurent knew. but this tells us that he’d ultimately dismissed the notion because it would have been insane for laurent to kiss and fuck him, while knowing his real identity. “i thought you wouldn’t, i thought you’d never—“

this is similar to how i thought about it during my first read—i suspected for all of book 1, and some of book 2, but then figured that the story was taking a different direction because how the hell could the plot points of “laurent knows who damen is” and “laurent makes himself vulnerable to damen and does a romance/sex about it” possibly be compatible? laurent, a deeply traumatized and self-protective person, wouldn’t and would never. except i underestimated laurent’s capacity for self-delusion, and overestimated the amount of control he truly has over his emotions and impulses, beneath all the posturing. damen, here, is recognizing that he’s made similar miscalculations, and now he’s seeing laurent as he truly is. they’re both seeing each other, truly, for the first time.

‘Laurent, six years ago, when I fought Auguste, I—’ ‘Don’t you say his name.’ The words were forced out of Laurent. ‘Don’t you ever say his name, you killed my brother.’

i like the simplicity of this. just the plainness of “you killed my brother.” laurent’s language is so often clever and cagey and embellished, but that last sentiment is raw and informal, and what we the reader are probably screaming in our heads. because yeah, holy shit, damen killed laurent’s brother. it’s a pretty hard thing to argue against, or ignore. “you lied to me” “you killed my brother” “you flogged me” “you killed my brother” “you forgot to do the dishes” “you killed my brother”

Laurent was breathing shallowly, almost panting as he spoke, his hands rigid on the edge of the table behind him.

his practiced words are saying one thing, but his body is very obviously having a panic attack. this scene isn’t nearly as much of a laurent mean girl moment as it seemed during a rushed first read. that’s actually kind of a relief to me, bc it made me sad to interpret him as so heartless and unfazed the first time around. even if “hello lover” is an iconic moment, it’s a performance more than anything else. and pacat shows us this sooner than i recalled or first perceived. she’s not torturing us, the reader, as much as she’s torturing both damen and laurent. and it’s not even like a lazy misunderstanding kind of torture, this is genuinely complicated and they’re both in the wrong and they both are justified in this pain and hurt. i just couldn’t see that as well the first time, having binged like all of book 2 already and having no idea what would happen next and honestly just being shocked and betrayed and compelled by the massive mislead with laurent’s awareness of the situation

‘Is that what you want to hear, that I knew who you were and I still let you fuck me, my brother’s killer, who cut him down like an animal on the field?’

you know he doesn’t, laurent, that’s just what you’re telling yourself now that you’re forced to confront it. you started this scene with “hello lover” and your prepared speech, hoping to destroy damen emotionally, but once again you’ve just kinda played yourself. maybe just cool it with the emotional gambits for now, when it comes to damen, bc they only really seem to come back and hurt you (oh fuck he can’t hear me)

‘Shall I ask you how you did it? What he looked like when your sword went in?’ ‘No,’ said Damen.

laurent, shaking, pale, looks like he’s about to pass out: “you bastard, tell me about how you murdered my brother as i think about the fact that i let you fuck me in a similar way, go ahead just make it hurt more”

damen, not a therapist but still emotionally intelligent enough to know this isn’t really about punishing him: no, i don’t think i will. can you like sit down

‘Or shall I tell you about the illusion of the man who gave me good counsel. Who stood by me. Who never lied to me.’ ‘I never lied to you.’

that italicized “i” is interesting. is it an accusation of laurent’s own lying and hypocrisy, or a specification that damen never directly told laurent he wasn’t damianos? given damen’s well-established integrity, i’m guessing it’s the first option. again with the mutual moral arbitration. and damen wouldn’t want to take such a weak a cop-out as “well i never technically said it,” it’s just not typical of his character.

The words were awful in the silence that followed them. ‘“Laurent, I am your slave”?’ said Laurent. He felt the breath forced out from his lungs.

of course laurent takes it as the second option, though, and implies that by swearing himself to laurent and then bedding him damen was directly lying about his identity. because to laurent, damen =/= damianos. a slave can’t be a prince. so damianos, the prince, must have been intentionally lying about being damen, the slave. and that’s actually easier, and less painful, and less complicated to accept than any kind of nuanced alternative.

‘Don’t,’ he said, ‘talk about it like—’ ‘Like?’ ‘Like it was cold-blooded; like I controlled it. Like we didn’t both close our eyes and pretend I was a slave.’ He made himself say the exposing words. ‘I was your slave.’

he’s right. nothing much to add here. damen wasn't just literally laurent's slave, he had devoted himself emotionally as well, and he's admitting it here despite the fact that it makes him vulnerable—something laurent is too much of a (traumatized, understandable) coward to do himself. i love damen's characterization so much

‘There was no slave,’ said Laurent. ‘He never existed. I don’t know what manner of man stands before me now. All I know is that I am facing him for the first time.’ ‘He is here.’ His flesh ached as if he had been prised open. ‘We are the same.’

this gives us some insight to laurent’s actions in book 1—not necessarily excusing them, but making them fit better into what we’ve since learned about his moral code. it ties things together, which isn’t the same as making them simpler or easier to like. pacat is very very VERY good at establishing continuous moral ambiguity in her characters, and does not rush the slow burn of making ends meet. so when she does eventually begin to connect things, it’s satisfying, because it hasn’t been all been spelled out the whole time so readers don’t have to think for themselves. this, in reference to a lot of the series’s more problematic themes, is exactly why i think people end up seeing capri as apologism or glamorization. but by claiming that, i also think they’re exposing themselves as impatient, shallow, and (sorry) simply lazy.

but i don't just want to be reductive and uncharitable, because that would be shallow and lazy too. to be perfectly clear, i honestly can't blame people for disliking this series, and not being willing or able to have patience and understanding for its more problematic elements. this series is marketed as romance/erotica. it started as indulgent kink fic. it ended up evolving into its current state during its development—and i'm really glad it did, but that doesn't change the fact that so much of its marketing and premise imply certain things that it doesn't quite deliver. and if you look up the series today, as it's still being published years after its completion, it's still marketed in a way i find somewhat misleading. to the extent that when i picked it up, it was in an intentional attempt to expand my own horizons—i wanted to challenge myself with indulgent shameless problematic porn/romance, as opposed to the weak-ass "enemies" to lovers running rival bakeries gay romance novels with canva covers that haven't worked for me in the past. the logic was basically, "well, if i don't like romance on that side of the scale, maybe i'll like the opposite extreme, or at least learn more about what i don't like." and i did feel pretty challenged during book 1, to the point that for a while i only kept reading out of morbid curiosity and vague horniness rather than any genuine expectation of depth or satisfying storytelling. it was only around the assassination scene in book 1 that i started to see the book as something capable of more depth and intrigue than just like kinky debauchery, and it pretty much just snowballed from there. and as someone who frequently reads about these dark topics in other genres and contexts, i was familiar enough with the things happening on the page to at least stomach them and push foward.

however, if i was coming at the series from a different place—like if i loved cozy romance and had very little familiarity with reading about these topics—i can see the first book especially being very blindsiding and distressing, and not wanting to engage with it further. that's not laziness, it just means that the book wasn't for me.

and the nuance doesn't end there. one of the things i love most about this series is that, even if i was just looking for shameless slavekink porn and decidedly did not want to rise to the occasion of depth or thematic exploration, i would also walk away unsatisfied. because the truly problematic shit in these books is not shameless at all, and indulgence never comes without a cost. there are a few distasteful moments that make me roll my eyes, and the garden scene definitely prompts a Conversation—but as a whole, i think pacat is very aware of the moral implications of these themes. and i also think she's perfectly aware of the fact that many people get off on them.

this series almost feels like an accidental study of, like, the psychological implications of being a person compelled by dub-con and problematic kink, finding a sort of gratification in situations where those things ar kind of inevitable (like they are for damen in book 1). AND this is made even more complicated and brave by the fact that laurent is, very relevantly, a victim of serious sexual assault. like, as hot as some of the scenes in this book are, i really don't think it makes itself easy for people to just uncritically get themselves off to. it doesn't encourage shame, but it does encourage introspection. and a lot of people simply don't read erotica and romance to introspect. (couldn't be me though. if it isn't clear, i love the laurent of vere "having insane mindfucking sex fully clothed across the room" approach to eroticism).

i feel like it's actually kind of funny that i specifically got here, as a person who almost always reads books that force dark introspection, and assumed that this erotica/romance book would be mindless, but ended up with gestures vaguely instead. for me, coming across this series and realizing what it truly is was an incredibly happy accident. but for others, i completely understand how it could be the exact opposite, and it's not lazy or shallow to realize that you misunderstood what you were getting yourself into and step away.

what is lazy and shallow, though, is to either DNF and review based on those misconceptions, or keep reading simply to fuel your own disdain and discomfort. ultimately, i think that the true error of people who walk into capri wanting shameless porn or untroubling romance is the fact that they keep reading, even when it becomes clear that the book isn't doing that. and then they decide to evaluate the book based on expectations and standards that aren't the ones the author or fans have for the work itself. people seem to take out their anger towards the SUBJECTS of slavery or rape in fiction themselves on capri, rather then the way capri specifically portrays them. either because they fucking stopped reading the book and just wanted to go on a tangent on the topics in general, or hate-read to confirm their own pre-existing bias.

my point is, nobody has to read things that trigger or upset them, and it's okay to just pass on fictional stuff that makes you feel bad or frustrated. aspects of this series made me feel bad and frustrated, even on re-read, but i enjoy the intellectual and emotional exercise of exploring those feelings and better understanding the true meaning and purpose of the art. but there are certain topics in other works of fiction that i'm unwilling to explore, which would cause me to simply stop reading, and if asked for a review i'd just say that i'm not the right person to say. and there have been many times where i've continued reading a book, hoping it would change directions, and ended up just being like, "yeah, that wasn't for me," and moving on.

the exchange "there was no slave, he never existed" "here is here, we are the same" is almost a meta-commentary on the reception of the series as a whole. it would be dishonest to deny how this series started, and some of the themes and subjects it intentionally confronts. you can't say "there was no slave [kink], [it] never existed" because the narrative proceeded to be more of a commentary on kink rather than an uncritical display of it. kink, and dark topics in fiction in general, do all have depth, and while they might not be for everyone, they are for someone. exploring that depth is entirely optional, and i understand why people with certain experiences don't want anything to do with that exploration. but our personal tastes don't change the fact that subjects like slavery and rape exist, and that reality is inseparable from the stories that come from it. ultimately, the choice is whether we're willing to take that specific reality thoughtfully on, or else just walk away.

the people i have the hardest time with are the ones who choose neither of those options. like, what do you even get out of continuing to read something that you're unwilling to explore in good faith, or that you straight-up hate? just read something else. we only have so much time in the day. stop wasting yours, and stop wasting the time of people who actually enjoy the thing with your useless bad-faith criticism. sorry this tangent has totally departed from the chapter itself, but that really is what pisses me off so much about current-day online book culture. like, i'm thinking about all of those smug-looking booktubers making 2 hour videos called "i read [name of book that doesn't appeal to the lowest common denominator of people] so you don't have to." i know how long it takes to read books thoughtfully, and then to write, film, and edit videos. maybe stop wasting your own time and dig into something you love instead, or even try to make your own thing, and just hope that some smug asshole on the internet doesn't decide to do to your work what you've done to other people's work. but no, lazy cynicism and appealing to the easy gimmick of cringe is way more profitable, i guess. and it makes you less vulnerable to people criticizing work that came from your soul, because the work you're creating is completely soulless.

anyway. i wonder what kind of totally normal things damen and laurent are up to in the chapter i'm annotating

‘Kneel then,’ said Laurent. ‘Kiss my boot.’

"if you really are still a slave, even though we both know you’re a king, then do a demeaning slave thing right now"

He looked into Laurent’s excoriating blue eyes. The impossibility of it was like a sharp pain. He couldn’t do it. He could only gaze at Laurent across the distance between them. The words hurt. ‘You’re right. I’m not a slave,’ he said.

can’t indulge in the kink anymore by circumstantial necessity, but i’m sure they’ll find something even weirder to do instead on purpose

‘I am the King.’ He said, ‘I killed your brother. And now I hold your fort.’ As he spoke, Damen drew out a knife. He felt rather than saw all of Laurent’s attention swing to it. The physical signs were small: Laurent’s lips parted, his body tensed. Laurent didn’t look at the knife. He kept his eyes on Damen, who looked right back at him. ‘So you will parley with me as with a king, and you will tell me why you called me here.’ Deliberately, Damen tossed the knife onto the floor of the tent.

okay this is just extra of him, but i mean laurent got to do “hello lover” so damen deserves to be dramatic too as a treat. i also like what this symbolizes, as opposed to their previous knife moments. as defined by their stations, they don’t have a power imbalance anymore, and they don’t have a reason to be enemies. they are a prince and a king, not a master and a slave. they are military allies, teaming up against the regent. any power imbalance and beef they have now is emotional, complicated, and abstract, nothing clear-cut (haha) enough to be represented by an instrument of simple violence like a knife. and damen summarizes this perfectly, in the context of their previous knife moments, by viscerally reminding laurent of those encounters and then just tossing the thing across the room.

honestly, i bet laurent feels jealous of the clever performative gesture. and maybe a little turned on, too, despite the horrors. that’s a fun reversal.

‘Didn’t you know?’ said Laurent. ‘My uncle is in Akielos.’

yeah, he got a really good all-inclusive deal at the akielion sandals resort and needed a vacation after all of the murder and [redacted]

[scoobydoodean]

Honestly I think that a lot of the reason why people view dean as abusive towards jack is because they genuinely think of him as a baby/toddler and not someone with the cognitive abilities of an older teenager/young adult who just happens to not really know much about the world. Obviously there's more to it because people ignore that cas wanted to put jack in the cage and sam wanted to use his power, but I stumbled across a post the other day about how they (the writers and the characters) should've given jack a capri-sun instead of a beer because he's a "literal toddler"... which is just completely incorrect and considering he has the body and brain development of someone who's older, there's no reason to not give him a beer. (also is anyone really a dad unless they give their 3 yr old a beer /j)

Context

It's funny because the whole point of the beer scene is to establish that Jack is not a child and that treating him like one would be ridiculous.

[DEAN grabs and opens a bottle of beer. JACK imitates him.] DEAN Wait, wait, wait, wait. How old do you think you are? JACK 3 days, 17 hours, and 42 minutes.

(From 13.02)

When Jack proves that he has such an advanced understanding of communication and time and such an unusual awareness of exactly how much time has passed, Dean immediately realizes that treating him as if he's a baby makes absolutely no sense because he clearly isn't one. Treating him like a child would be infantilizing, and we see Jack rebel against the notion that he's a baby a few times.

There's some push I think to separate Jack's intellectual abilities from his emotional coping abilities, but even these I think are more or less on track with other young adolescents around the age he presents himself to be when controlling for traumatic experiences. Jack's initial emotional regulation abilities don't read like those of a toddler, but of a young adult who's confused and upset and has been through a lot. Without powers in the mix that he doesn't know how to control, his emotional regulation abilities seem fairly standard for boys his age (at least to me). I don't think for example, that the anger he experiences and the reasons he experiences that anger can be equated with toddler-like tantrums, and any other person whose been around a toddler and sees what kind of things make them furious knows what I mean.

Granted, there are things Jack is naive about that are probably connected to him being "born yesterday". We see this early on when Asmodeus tries to manipulate Jack into opening a hell gate. At the same time, this interaction also highlights Jack's innate sense of right and wrong as a counterbalance. I personally find it frustrating when people try to take away Jack's understanding of right and wrong (rooted in his love for others) and cast him as a baby to the extent that he isn't even capable of understanding the golden rule, when Jack shows over and over how seriously he takes the personhood of other people and the weight of their lives. This is what allows him to see through Asmodeus's trickery in a very confusing situation, simply realizing, "you're hurting my friends". Jack using his care for others as a foundation to navigate Asmoedus's trickery also serves as excellent contrast to soulless Jack in 14.19. Soulless Jack was not able to grasp that Dumah was manipulating him because he was missing this crucial piece of himself—his love for other people including strangers. Because he was lacking that part of himself at that time, he was unable to grasp that filling someone's body with worms for not wanting to be turned into an angel is horrible and cruel and couldn't be a good thing. His naivety played a role in what happened, but it was the crucial missing soul that actually allowed this situation to transpire. I think a lot of people just straight up think normal Jack also would have been manipulated into killing people for Dumah in this circumstance and I really just don't think that's true at all.

[samantha-and-nellie]

i finally read “the lilac tunnel: my journey with samantha” (shoutout to @cannon-memely for letting me know that i should actually take the time to check it out!) and i have Thoughts. full reactions from reading it under the cut

to preface this (since there is going to be a tiny bit of snark and general silliness), i did overall have a good time reading this book! i have some qualms with the storylines they chose to put in there, but i do think that the journey books are one of the smarter moves they made during the beforever era. i remember really loving the “you choose” history books as a kid, and i think the interactive component is appealing and generally a great way to keep children engaged. i could absolutely ramble on more about historical fiction for children, but let’s just jump into my (semi-chaotic) thoughts about “the lilac tunnel.”

first of all, FASCINATING that samantha apparently has a swing at grandmary’s house, since i’m pretty sure that it’s never mentioned in the original books. do we think it was lydia and gard’s, or do we think gard (or even hawkins) put it up for sam?

samantha’s got ORPHAN SYNDROME and she’s got it bad

okay. this is probably my main gripe with this book, but having this book set pre-nellie (and thereby having on option to essentially be nellie but under grandmary’s employment???) is bizarre af

on the flip side, the fact that nellie isn’t around really highlights how lonely samantha is, and i think we all know that I’m SOOOO normal when it comes to themes of grief and loneliness in samantha’s stories

WHY TF DOES EDDIE HAVE SUCH A LARGE ROLE IN THIS STORY. DEAR GOD PUT HIM BACK WHERE HE CAME FROM

elsa??? having a prominent role in a samantha story??? what sorcery is this???

yeah, super duper excited to have it reinforced that samantha is ready to accuse servants of stealing so long as they aren’t the servants that she likes

i think we’ve all had nightmares in which eddie ryland appears

samantha having an understanding of the fact that she’s transgressing by being friendly with a servant girl when this book is set prior to her relationship with nellie makes me wonder how much child workers she has tried to befriend /hj

saint louis fair mention for the movie girlies:)

i wonder if the description of grandmary’s outfit on page 30 is meant to be a reference to this dan andreason illustration of her?

the magic lantern show is really cute:) (might be thinking about writing fanfic of this but with nellie…)

samantha being shorter than the protagonist of this story after being the tall one with nellie is honestly pretty funny. smol bean samantha

awwwww gard and cornelia

HEY HEY HEY 

WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK

BEFOREVER I’M ABOUT TO THROW HANDS

anyways, apparently we need to re-traumatize samantha with near-drownings at every chance we get:) this is not messed up at all:)

guess we better pretend like that never freaking happened

… okay the locket origin story is pretty cute

this book has such insane emotional whiplash. what do you MEAN one piney point storyline is about nearly drowning and the other is about a moonlight swim with cornelia?!?

someone should really draw fanart of samantha wearing the protagonist’s capris (big bow and all)

tbh, kinda confused by the bike plot line in this story, cause didn’t they incorporate the bicycle short story into the main beforever books?

new career path dropped for samantha, folks! (medical field)

mmm the fear about illness is getting a little too relatable here

i love how much dress up there is in this book:) literally would’ve rocked my world as a child

not the ENTIRE RYLAND CLAN coming over for dinner. a formal dinner with eddie actually sounds so horrific

… guess that’s the note we’re ending on for me. thanks for reading my rambles, and feel free to let me know if there’s other journey books i should check out in the future!

[theroyalthrones]

Behind the Scenes | Vandeleur HQ |Capri, Orillia

beginning | previous | next

Authors Note: I Highly recommend reading this chapter while listening to the song for the first part. It nails the atmosphere for this particular part of the story on the head!

Just Like Heaven - The Cure

Transcript Under the Cut

MUSIC IS PLAYING st Like Heaven - The Cure LUCIAN DE'CREMONESI Sighs and groans FRANCESCA ORTEGA What's your problem? I've heard you sigh 4 times in the past 3 minutes. LUCIAN DE'CREMONESI I don't know. FRANCESCA ORTEGA Of course you do. If you didn't, you wouldn't be annoying me with your sighs. LUCIAN DE'CREMONESI Chuckling I didn't know sighs could be annoying. FRANCESCA ORTEGA Oh course they can, no one told you since your some pampered rich kid back at home, right? F4-m4 LUCIAN DE'CREMONESI I'm not pampered. FRANCESCA ORTEGA Laughs Sure Luc, sure. FRANCESCA ORTEGA I just want to make sure you're okay. LUCIAN DE'CREMONESI … I- I like you Francesca. FRANCESCA ORTEGA Wait what! I- LUCIAN DE'CREMONESI You don't have to feel the sam- She kisses him, and he's so shocked his eyes are wide open while she does it. When it's done, she says. FRANCESCA ORTEGA Laughs I like you too, Lucian. LORRAINE DE'CREMONESI If you don't get up right now Lucian! I- LUCIAN DE'CREMONESI Groaning Shut up, Lorraine. Why are you yelling? LORRAINE DE'CREMONESI Scoffs I've been trying to wake you up for 5 minutes! What are you still doing sleeping? I brought a car around, Mom is going to be pissed. LUCIAN DE'CREMONESI Let me go back to sleep, I was living in the best dream. LORRAINE DE'CREMONESI You'll be living in the worst nightmare if you don't get up right now. We're already late enough.

[yelena-bellova]

Safe Haven: tfatws!Bucky Barnes x fem!reader - Chapter Two

chapter one -Chapter Two: According To Plan - chapter three

Series Masterlist

Plot: Y/n and Sam leave for Munich, gaining the surprise addition of Bucky Barnes to their team. 

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x fem!reader, Sam Wilson x platonic!reader

Warnings: spoilers for ep.2, language, violence, squint for fluff in between all the chaos, Y/n and Bucky ain’t feeling each other yet, protective big brother Sam, nobody likes Walker

Word Count: 7.5k (ya’ll, we had to split episode 2 into two chapters because I use too many words lol)

A/N: OKAY, thank you to everybody for supporting the first chapter. I didn’t really think anything would come of it but I was clearly wrong. Hopefully you enjoy this one just as much, each episode will probably be divided into two chapters if the rest of the season continues on like it is. 

----

The government hadn’t just failed Sam, they were rubbing his face in the fact that they thought their knockoff Captain America was a better candidate than him.

I followed my brother down the halls of the New Orleans air force base, trying to ignore the paraphernalia that hung on the walls. John Walker was everywhere you looked; the internet, televisions, posters were plastered all over the city announcing his new appointment. Each time I had to read the words ‘Cap Is Back’ I became a little sick to my stomach. Sam stopped in front of me once we’d reached the hanger to stare at one of the posters. Though he tried to keep his face neutral, the sadness bled through in his eyes.

“Seems like a good guy. You met him?” a man who I assumed was Sam’s military contact asked.

“No,” Sam answered before changing the topic, “Thanks for doing this on such short notice.” “Yeah, no sweat. I’m just finishing up the checklist, you two’ll be all good to go once you land in Munich,” he looked to me and reached a hand for me to shake, “Joaquin Torres.” “Y/n Y/l/n. Thanks for not making any noise about me coming along for the ride.”

“Hey, I trust an Avenger’s judgement on who to bring to a fight,” he smiled, stopping at the top of the steps to allow me to go before himself.

I elbowed Sam as we descended the stairs side by side, “Hear that? You’ve got good judge- why’re you making that face?” Before he could answer, a foreign voice announced its presence. “Shouldn’t have given up the shield.”

My eyes fell to the floor below us and climbed the looming figure waiting at the end of the staircase. I didn’t need to have any history lessons on who he was or why he’d come to talk to Sam about such a subject. James Bucky Barnes, the second 100+ year old man to walk the earth without a single wrinkle. The tragic tale of HYDRA’s bloodthirsty history. The man Sam had fought to protect and been sent to prison for.

“Good to see you too, Buck,” Sam passively greeted the man, swerving around his body to continue on our path to the jet. The hint wasn’t taken. 

“This is wrong.”

“Hey, hey, look, I’m working, alright? So all this outrage is gonna have to wait.” Bucky fell into step on the other side of Sam, pointing towards yet another poster of John Walker, “You didn’t know that was gonna happen?”

“No, of course I didn’t know that was gonna happen,” Sam’s tone became more emotional, “You think it didn’t break my heart to see them march him out there and call him the new Captain America?” “This isn’t what Steve wanted,” Bucky pushed. Sam was growing tired of the questioning, “What do you want me to do? Call America and tell ‘em I changed my mind? Huh? Yeah, right. It’s a great reunion, buddy, be well.” “You had no right to give up that shield, Sam.” I could no longer stay silent and let him try and make a good man feel guilty. “Okay, you’re out of line with that one, Barnes.” Bucky finally took a second to register my being there before looking back to Sam, “Who the hell is this?” “She’s none of your concern, but let me tell you what you’re not gonna do,” Sam stood in front of Bucky, “You’re not gonna come here in your overextended life and tell me about my rights. It’s over, Bucky. Besides, I have bigger things to deal with now.” Emotions I couldn’t fully understand took over Bucky’s face, “What could be bigger than this?”

Sam fished his phone out of his back pocket and held it up to the Super Soldier, “This guy. His connections with rebel organizations all over Eastern and Central Europe and he’s strong. Too strong.” “And?” Bucky asked, unimpressed.

“Well, he’s been connected to this online group called the Flag Smashers. Now, Redwing traced them to a building somewhere outside of Munich so that’s where I’m going,” Sam turned to me to signal we were walking again.

“Well, I don’t trust Redwing,” Bucky continued his pursuit, “Hold on a minute.” “You don’t have to trust Redwing,” Sam said firmly as we paused again, “But I’mma go see if he’s right. ‘Cause I have a feeling they might be a part of the Big Three.”

Bucky’s eyebrows lowered in confusion, “What ‘Big Three?’”

“The Big Three.”

“What Big Three?” “Androids, aliens and wizards,” I answered before Sam could. “That’s not a thing,” Bucky shook his head. “That’s definitely a thing,” Sam nodded. “No, it’s not.” “It really is,” I set my bag down on the ground and crossed my arms, there was no indication we’d be leaving any time soon.

“Every time we fight, we fight one of the three,” Sam insisted.

“So who are you fighting now, Gandalf?”

Sam inhaled to continue arguing before snapping his head back in surprise, “How do you know about Gandalf?” “I read The Hobbit,” Bucky answered confidently, “In 1937 when it first came out.”

“So you see my point?” “No, I don’t. There are no wizards.” I pointed to Bucky and tilted my head towards Sam, “Now there, I agree with him.” Sam looked offended that I didn’t automatically back him up, “You both are wrong…Doctor Strange.” “Is a sorcerer,” Bucky finished.

“Aah!” Sam laughed and poked Bucky’s firm chest, “A sorcerer is a wizard without a hat. Think about it, right? I’m right. I just came up with that, it’s crazy.” Bucky’s face read that he was thousand shades of done with Sam’s childish argument, even if he’d fought just as immaturely. I was beginning to see why Sam didn’t recount his brief time spent with the ex-Winter Soldier that fondly but I’d also forgotten how easy it was to push Sam’s buttons sometimes. There was some unwitting dynamic between them that I didn’t want to be in the middle of. “So glad we’re wasting valuable time on arguing over whether or not Harry Potter’s real,” I spoke up, tapping my foot out of impatience.

Sam was the first to snap back to reality, “That’s not the point. These guys aren’t magical, alright? They use brute force just like you, the incredibly annoying guy in front of me with the staring problem,” he reached down to grab my bag and hand it to me, “Let’s move.” “I’m coming with you,” Bucky called, the sound of his combat boots hitting the hanger floor behind us. “No, you’re not,” Sam answered harshly. “Oh my gosh,” I groaned before dropping my duffle bag again on the tarmac and spinning around to face the two men, “I don’t know how you two could have possibly saved the day as much as people say you have if you’re always like this! You,” I pointed to Sam, “Stop trying to do this on your own. You,” I moved my finger towards Bucky, “No more talking about the shield. If anybody needs me,” I wiggled my fingers and let the blue energy lift my bag into the air, “I’ll be waiting in the jet.” ——

Bucky and Sam stood speechless as they watched Y/n march across the tarmac, her bag magically floating behind her. “Who is she?” “My sister, Y/n,” Sam answered, “I didn’t know she could do that till today. She twisted my arm until I agreed to let her come.” Bucky’s eyes hadn’t left Y/n since she took control and ended Sam and his bickering. There weren’t many people who met him for the first time and didn’t give him a second glance. If she was Sam’s sister then she sure as hell knew about his past. Yet here she was daring to order him around and advocate for him to join Sam and her on their mission. It also went without saying that she was gorgeous. But she had proven that she didn’t understand the seriousness in which the situation with the new Captain America needed to be treated with, and that irked him. Still, his feet automatically wanted to carry him to the jet once she’d headed up the ramp and he’d lost his view of her. “Can’t decide whether I like her or not.”

——

Not having a suit to wear, I had changed on the jet from my sweater, capris and sneakers to a black shirt, jeans, booties and my favorite blue leather jacket that matched the blue that flowed from my fingertips.

When I stepped out of the jet’s bathroom, I expected to find Sam and Bucky fighting again. The whole flight so far has been filled with the same tension that had begun in the hanger and we’d been sitting in uncomfortable silence ever since. I was sure that the second I left, they’d be going at it again like children when a parent disappeared. Instead, they were quietly sitting on opposite sides of the jet with their eyes trained on one another.

“Can you guys quiet down for a second?” I sarcastically remarked as I walked across the room, “I can’t hear myself think.”

I deposited my bag in the corner of the jet near where Torres was climbing down the ladder, “One minute to drop off, Sam.”

I expected to turn around and see both Sam and Bucky up and preparing themselves, but the two men were still embroiled in a stare down. Sam and I had always cheesed each other off in a typical sibling fashion, but Bucky and his relationship seemingly consisted of nothing but that. 

Sam finally rose from his seat and Bucky quickly did the same, I brushed past him to stand on the other side of Sam. “So what’s the plan?” Sam ignored the question and handed me a small black device, “This is your comm, don’t lose it.” I nodded and placed the small ear piece in my ear, the faint hums of the jet coming through it.

With no direction from Sam, Bucky sat back down unhappily. “Great. So no plan?”

“Thirty seconds,” Torres shouted over the wind coming in from the open hatch.

“Enjoy your ride, Buck,” Sam remarked from beside me. “No, you can’t call me that.” “Why not? That’s what Steve called you.” “Steve knew me longer and Steve,” Bucky tilted his head to Sam, “Had a plan.”

I shook my head to shake off the ridiculousness of arguing nicknames at the moment. “I’m sorry, are we really playing the name game when we’re literally about to jump out of a plane? I get this is my first mission and all but- Bucky’s eyebrows shot up his forehead as he looked to Sam, “This is her first mission? What the hell were you thinking, bringing her?” “She,” I took a step towards Bucky, “Is more than capable of handling herself. First mission or 100th, I know what I’m doing, Barnes.”

“Fifteen seconds to drop!” Torres’ announcement ended any further arguing between me and Bucky.

“Listen to the woman,” Sam smirked as he put on his goggles, probably thinking back to a few hours ago when I’d body slammed him into the roof, “And I have a plan.”

“Really?” Bucky spread his arms out as we watched Sam walk away from us, “What is it?” Sam had already told me that he’d drop in first and I was to follow once he’d cleared the area. Bucky had not been privy to hearing that discussion and Sam had made no effort to fill him in. Without giving Bucky a second look, but winking at me, he dove headfirst out of the hatch and activated his wings, flying gracefully downwards towards the forest. I had never gotten to see him fly and felt a sense of pride as I looked out to see him glide above the trees.

“Where’s the chute?” Bucky called out.

“We’re at 200 feet, it’s too low for a chute,” Torres stated.

Bucky stalked towards the door, “I don’t need it anyway.”

“Neither will I,” I said, taking a step forward to see just how high we really were. I was confidant in my ability to keep up with Sam and wanted to prove my capability, but I was human. It went against every natural instinct to step out into the air and catch myself. Bucky moved to stand next to me, the two of us turning to face each other. This was the first time we’d actually made more than fleeting eye contact and I was finally able to get a good look at him. His features were sharp, his cheekbones and jaw were extremely prominent. Something more than scruff and less than a beard covered the bottom half of his face. His eyes were cerulean blue, just nearly matching the shade of my energy. Complete with a short, scruffy haircut, I wasn’t sure if handsome was a strong enough word for just how good looking James Barnes was. 

“Ladies first,” Bucky nodded towards our exit, never breaking eye contact, “Sure you know what you’re doing?” I smiled smugly, matching the amount of sass radiating from his words, “Do you?”

Not wanting to give him the opportunity to think up a come back, I turned away from him and threw myself out of the plane. An unavoidable scream flew from my lips as I free fell, somehow managing in the chaos to threw my arms out at my sides and expel my energy to control my descent. Once I got a hold on maneuvering the winds, the act actually became almost enjoyable. I found myself laughing as I weaved between the trees, until my laughter was accompanied by a fast approaching scream above me. A shower of branches began to rain down around me forcing me to swerve to the side just in time for Bucky’s figure to come crashing through. He landed harshly on his back, limbs spread out and a pained groan escaping his lips.

I floated directly above him, “I stand corrected, you definitely know what you’re doing.” “I have all of that on camera. You know that, right?” Sam’s voice came through our comms. Redwing flew up from behind us and zoomed in on Bucky’s face. 

“Get out of my face, Sam, or I’ll break it,” Bucky uttered, exhaustion filling his voice.

“Okay, head north. Come on.” I snickered at the exchange and lowered myself to the ground close enough to Bucky to extend him a hand. He accepted it and I helped pull him to an upright sitting position, trying to hide the fact that I struggled with his weight. “Thanks.” “Well, my mom taught me to always help my elders,” I said with a smirk, earning myself a scowl in response. “You’re as bad as Sam, aren’t you?” he moaned as he rose to his full height.

“Okay, okay,” I ceased my soft laughter, “I’m sorry. Seriously, are you okay? I know you’re a super soldier but still-” “I’m fine,” Bucky confirmed quickly, brushing the dirt from his jacket and turning north, “Let’s go.”

The two of us fell into a silence that wasn’t necessarily uneasy but certainly not relaxed. We weren’t enemies, we weren’t coworkers and we definitely weren’t friends. We’d spoken all of about five sentences to each other since meeting and none of them had been particularly chummy. “Sam only mentioned one sister,” Bucky broke the non-verbal spell.

“Sarah,” I stated, “We’re not technically related but they’re family. Sam told me he reached out to you and never got anything back. I think he was wondering how you were doing.” “Yeah, well…” he mumbled, stepping over a particularly large boulder and avoiding my gaze. 

I decided not to push the subject, not only were we nearing the warehouse, Sam could hear us through the comms and Redwing. But I made a note of the lightning quick wave of emotion that crossed Bucky’s eyes. Sam was definitely a trigger for him, but I had a feeling this was something much more complicated. Something I didn’t have time to get too curious over.

We made it out of the forest and Redwing led us to the back entrance to the warehouse. The graffiti and wrecked roofing made me want to believe that nobody had been there in ages, but Sam’s intel contradicted the setting. My brother, the esteemed military man, was also contradicting his age as he maneuvered Redwing just above us to provoke Bucky into taking a swing at him. “Oh-ho-ho, don’t hurt him,” he teased as Redwing quickly avoided the assault.

Sam stood in the next room staring down at the screen on his wrist, scanning the building through Redwing’s camera. He took a quick look at me to assess that I hadn’t been injured in the fall before turning back.

“You’re doing the staring thing again,” he commented without looking up. That one I’d give him, Bucky’s smoldering stare game was intimidating especially when he wasn’t saying anything. “They’re in there,” Sam tilted his head towards the nearest open doorway and stretching his arm out so Bucky and I could see what Redwing was seeing. There was a truck with two people loading in containers of something.

“Where’s the guy?” Bucky asked.

“I don’t know. I think they’re smuggling weapons though.” “Well, I think you could be right,” Bucky’s voice lowered. “Hmm,” Sam nodded.

“But there’s only one way to find out,” Bucky turned towards the doorway, “I see a clear path, I say we take it.”

As soon as his boot hit the ground in its first step, Sam reached for his arm. “We’re not assassins.” “Shouldn’t we, I don’t know, observe from a distance rather than attack straight away?” I offered.

Bucky’s eyes flicked to me when I spoke and promptly back to Sam, throwing away my suggestion. He probably thought me naive. “I’ll see you inside or not.”

He pulled his arm out of Sam’s grip and went ahead, leaving Sam chuckling to himself. “Hey, come on, man. I’m just messing with you, come back,” he called softly. “‘I’m just messing with you,’ the Avengers’ official slogan,” I dryly jested, “Here I was thinking we were doing serious work. Is Redwing still surveying?” “Yeah,” Sam was still smiling to himself as he turned to watch Bucky stalk down the hallway, “Look at you. All stealthy. A little time in Wakanda and you come out White Panther.” 

“It’s actually White Wolf,” Bucky responded in our ears.

“Huh?”

When we lost visual on Bucky, Sam snapped his fingers and nodded towards the hallway. We made our way through the various openings until we’d caught up, Sam held up a finger to his lips as we caught sight of Bucky and our steps became even softer.

“All right, I’m inside. Therefore way ahead of you,” Bucky bragged, turning back to where he thought we waited, “It’s not great but very doable.” His peripherals must have caught the red and white of Sam’s suit, he turned to see the two of us at his side. “Hello. How are you?” “Good. What did we miss? Nothing,” Sam replied.

“All right, let’s go,” Bucky moved to step forward again.

“No, wait,” Sam protested.

Bucky held up his prosthetic vibranium arm I had heard so much about. “I got a vibranium arm, I can take them.” “And I can fly, she can make things float, who gives a shit? Wait. I want to see where they’re going.” Bucky pointed towards the truck that was still being loaded, “There’s two people.”

“You only see two?” Sam started. “That’s what I saw,” Bucky confirmed.

“Let me see what Redwing sees.” “All right…” “Let’s see what Redwing sees…”

I held two fingers to my temple and rubbed, “My gosh, it’s like working with children.”

Sam fiddled with a few controls on the screen and activated the x-ray feature on his beloved drone, “Oh, look at that. How many people you see now? One, two…Oh, here it comes again.” Bucky sighed, unhappy to admit he was wrong, “Four. Five.” “Yeah, five.” “So they’re strong, whatever,” Bucky brushed off not only the math but our group’s capabilities. “Let’s go.”

“Barnes, wait,” I hissed as Sam reached out and took hold of his arm, his elbow hitting the metal shelves we were hiding behind and rattling something.

“Shit!” Sam whispered, he pulled me to his side to block me while Bucky ducked down. The group turned to investigate the noise but disregarded it at the lack of visible culprits. The trucks started and their doors were closed, each person getting into their designated vehicle. Sam started tapping on Redwing’s controller again, “There’s an eighth person. I think they have a hostage.”

With one look from Bucky, the three of us snapped into action. I raised myself into the air ahead of Sam who took off slightly behind me, looking down to see Bucky running impossibly fast. “Y/n, with me,” Sam called through the comms, I listened and hung back until he’d caught up. Bucky continued on his way until he’d climbed onto the back of the truck. I followed Sam’s lead as we flew to the side of the road.

“Shouldn’t we be helping him?” I asked as the two of us landed.

“They’re stealing medicine, vaccines,”  Bucky’s voice filled my comm.

“He’s got it, we’re staying here and waiting for him to come back with the hostage. Then you and I are gonna keep following the trucks and see where they’re heading,” he explained, “I’m trying to keep you out of as much of the fight as I can.” “That’s the whole reason I came, Sam,” I argued, gesturing towards the road, “To help, to fight.”

“Bucky, talk to me,” Sam favored to ignore my desire to do dirty work, “What’s goin’ on?” 

“Found the hostage,” he reported, followed only seconds later by a loud exclaim of “Shit!”

Adrenaline set every nerve alight in my body, something had gone wrong. Without asking for Sam’s permission I took off running down the road. I used my energy to lift towards the sky and flew the same way the truck’s had gone. Distantly, I heard Sam yell my name but made no effort to stop. “Barnes, talk to me,” I yelled over the winds I was flying against. As I spotted the trucks I saw the small silhouettes of figures standing atop one of them. Once I got closer, I could see that the one being aggressively pinned by two of them was Bucky. I landed on the vehicle’s roof just in time to see someone leap into the air, grab Redwing and break him with their knee. Between my want to help Bucky and my second hand protectiveness over Sam’s gear, I was pissed. The masked figure looked up at me, two brown eyes peeking out of eyeholes and marched forward, making me their next target. I created a ball of blue energy and aimed it at her, knocking her down but only for a second. She leapt towards me and landed a punch across my cheek, I went down with a groan and cradling my cheek. Now I was really pissed…

I opened an eye to see the shadow of Sam’s Falcon suit above me, he touched down on the truck and landed a kick to my assaulter’s abdomen. He quickly helped me to my feet as our enemy rose again and took a fight stance. 

“Good of you to join the fight, Sam,” Bucky yelled before kicking one of his captors in the leg. 

The person who had given me the shiner threw Sam aside to the second truck like he was weightless. She was far too small to be that strong, it was inhuman. I decided to hold back a little less and raised my hands toward her, extending waves of the blue energy and raising her up into the air. She struggled to try and escape my hold, grunting and groaning as she flopped around in the air. I was about to throw her into the trees when I was tackled from behind. We skidded towards the front of the truck till the boot of one of the thugs holding Bucky down hit me in the shoulder. Another masked figure, this one I suspected to be a man, had his arms wrapped tightly around my abdomen. He flipped me over and raised his head to slam into mine. Luckily he hadn’t thought to pin my arms down and his mistake allowed me to throw them in front of my face and create a force field that even the thickest of skulls couldn’t penetrate. I looked briefly to see Sam being pinned down as well on the second truck but couldn’t free myself to go help him. 

And then, in a conflicting twist of events, a red white and blue shield came flying through the air.

As I struggled to keep the force field up and my arms locked, I made out an equally patriotic suited man throw the shield at the one who had punched me earlier. A second figure swung in from a helicopter and kicked her off the truck, leaving her clinging to the edge of the roof. The shield flew in the direction of the people holding Bucky down and hit one square in the back before bouncing back to its wielder. The guy holding me down was struck next and rolled right off of me, I sent a significantly bigger blast towards his chest that sent him flying off the back of the truck. Bucky reached down and helped me stand up, he pulled me out of the way when the shield came flying by our faces to hit his other attackers.

“You gotta be kidding me,” I panted.

John Walker stopped briefly to introduce himself to Sam, like he hadn’t been living rent free in our minds since that damned tv broadcast before sending the shield flying past Bucky and I again. As it bounced off our enemies and back towards Walker, Bucky’s metal hand snapped up to grab it only for Walker to retake it. The time for anger or sadness wasn’t now, though the forlorn expression on Bucky’s face said otherwise. I broke from him and launched myself across the gap between trucks to land near where Sam was being attacked. Bucky followed suit and we began taking out each person one by one till Sam stood and turned too fast, hitting and sending Bucky plus one of the masked thugs over the side of the truck. Sam and I turned to face our last attacker who was stalking toward us, Sam glanced over his shoulder quickly before looking back ahead. “When I say ‘now,’ you shoot up,” he ordered, “Now!” I blasted upwards and over the overhead road sign he’d known would hit our attacker. I was too high to drop down suddenly but watched as Sam touched back down on the truck to be punched off the truck, activating his wings and catching himself in the wind. I flew downwards and lined up with the side of the truck, searching frantically for Bucky while trying to dodge the cars to my left. Bucky was clinging for dear life to the underside of the truck. His attacker stomped his metal arm with his boot till Bucky lost his grip with it and it dragged along the road creating a flurry of sparks. 

“Sam, what do we do?” I yelled into my comm. “Now when I say ‘drop,’ you drop.” “Are you insane?!” I screeched, looking down at the asphalt and trying to calculate how fast I may be going. “DROP!”

Putting the most trust I ever had in Sam, I stopped the energy flow and was tackled mid-air by him. I twisted in his arms to wrap my legs around one of his and my arms around his back. Without warning, he flew us under the nearest truck before letting go of me with one arm and tackling Bucky. I readjusted my grip to have one arm around both of them. We dropped out of the air and crash-landed, rolling like a grunting and groaning wheel through a field of yellow flowers. Eventually we ceased our tumbling with Bucky on top of Sam and me to the side still clinging to both of them.

“Could have used that shield,” Bucky ground out tauntingly in Sam’s face.

“Get off of me,” Sam strained, shoving Bucky off with another loud grunt. I rolled to his other side and coughed loudly, having had the wind knocked out of me during the crash. The three of us lay on our backs trying to regain our breath, Sam and I more than Bucky but I chalked that up to the fact that he was just as strong as the people we’d just gotten our asses handed to us by. “Those were all Super Soldiers, Sam,” he stated in awe. 

“I know,” Sam confirmed, “You’re welcome, by the way.” He pushed himself up painfully on an elbow to lean over me, “Are you okay?”

I was finally starting to feel like I could get some semblance of a normal breath in. I’d have wished it was running around with AJ and Cass that would have showed me I was out of shape and not losing a fight to Super Soldiers. “‘Big Three’ my ass, Wilson,” I wheezed, making no effort to sit up yet.

“I said ‘might be’,” Sam weakly fought, “‘Might be.’ Clearly I was wrong.” 

“Will wonders never cease?” Bucky winced as he sat up, “We need to get to the airport and reformulate.” “Oh, do we now? Do we need to reformulate?” Sam mocked from the ground, “I hadn’t thought of that yet, Bucky, what an incredible-“ I groaned loudly and forced my torso up, “Dear God above, if you two don’t stop acting like twelve year olds, I’ll catch a Delta flight home.” “Good, that’s where I wanted you,” Sam reprimanded as he rose to join me, “I told you if you took some stupid risk, you were going back home and what did you do? You took off on your own towards those trucks!” “I was trying to help him,” I threw my hand out towards Bucky, “One way or another I would have gotten hurt, Sam, whether I’d have waited for you or not. And now that I’ve actually seen what we’re dealing with? No way am I going home.” I rolled onto my knees and got to my feet, my muscles aching with each movement I made to stand in front of the two men. “When you two decide to start acting like adults, I’ll meet you back at the jet.”

Holding in each groan that wanted to escape my mouth, I started my trek back towards the road, not making it very far until I heard two pairs of footsteps behind me.

We walked that way for most of the way, Sam and Bucky muttering something every once in a while to each other and me ahead of them trying to wrap my head around the situation. I had gotten myself tangled in the world of super soldiers, ones who weren’t using their advanced capabilities to save the world from one of the actual Big Three. Not only that but we’d had the displeasure of being rescued by the person the three of us had wanted to see least in the world. I had started the day out having coffee with Sarah on our back porch and by eastern standard time zone’s definition was ending it in Germany mid-afternoon with a killer bruise developing on my cheek. Whatever I had expected to come from joining Sam, it sure as hell wasn’t this.

A car honk summoned me out of my thoughts, an open roofed vehicle came up beside me and I was quick to identify the passengers. John Walker and the helicopter soldier. 

“So that didn’t go as planned, huh?” Walker attempted to make friendly conversation, specifically with Sam and Bucky but I could sense I was also welcome to answer. I didn’t cease my movements and neither did Sam and Bucky which only caused Walker to instruct the driver to get ahead of us again. “Look, at least we know what we’re up against now, huh? And we’re pretty sure it’s one of the Big Three, so…” “Aliens, androids, or wizards?” the unnamed soldier double checked with Walker, who responded that he was still almost certain.

“There’s no such thing as wizards,” Bucky grumbled from behind me, sounding like the old man he biologically was.

“Then it’s aliens, or androids,” Walker shrugged. “Or Super Soldiers,” Sam corrected.

“Shit, Super Soldiers, for real?” Walker’s sidekick asked before turning in his seat to face, “Do you believe that?” “I believe that you two don’t know how to take a hint,” I frustratedly smiled at him, “But yes, I do.”

“Wow. All right, well, then we gotta work together,” Walker said. Bucky scoffed, “That’s not happening.”

“I think we stand a much better chance if we all just-“ Bucky finally lost his patience and said the thing we all were thinking, “Just ‘cause you carry that shield, it doesn’t mean you’re Captain America.”

Walker was quick to defend himself, “Look, I’ve done the work, okay?” 

Bucky was equally as quick to prove him wrong, “You ever jump on top of a grenade?” “Yeah. Actually, I have. Four times,” Walker explained, “It’s a thing I do with my helmet. It’s a reinforced helmet. It’s a long story, but, look…It’s 20 miles to the airport, you guys need a ride.” A sudden cramp tore through my shin causing me to sharply inhale and grab the leg. Through the pain I managed to exhale and begin limping back along the path, “We’re good, thanks.”

“At least let us take her, she’s injured,” I heard Walker attempt to convince Sam and Bucky, knowing that I was probably a means to an end to get them in the car. 

I didn’t get very far before I felt Sam’s arm wrap around my waist, “C’mon…” As much as I wanted to fight him on it, I knew I wouldn’t make it more than a few steps before I was bent over again in pain. The adrenaline had worn off and my whole body was starting to ache deeply in a way that made even breathing hurt where it shouldn’t. I dropped my head in frustration and nodded, putting my arm around Sam’s shoulder to let him brace me. He helped me limp back to the car where Bucky gently handled my other side, the two of them lifted me into the vehicle where Walker and his friend tried to help me sit down. I shrugged off their unwelcome hands and used the roof’s poles to lower myself into a seat. Sam jumped in and sat on one side of me, gently lifting the leg that was really bothering me onto his lap to try and massaging my shin. Bucky climbed in on my other side and gave me a once over, trying to assess if I was in any further pain that I wasn’t letting on to.

“Okay,” Walker began as the car rocked to life again, “So we’ve got eight Super Soldiers on a bulk supply run. Why?” “They say their mission is to get things back to the way it was during The Blip,” Sam explained, “Maybe they’re just trying to help.” “They had a funny way of showing it,” Bucky commented.

“That serum doesn’t exactly have a great track record,” Walker quickly looked to Bucky, “No offense.” I tried not to judge people too harshly upon first meeting them, but I had no problem deciding right away that Walker was an asshole.

“We need to figure out where they’re going,” Sam spoke up before an argument could break out, “How’d you track ‘em here? The Flag Smashers?”

“Uh, no, we didn’t track them. We tracked you, uh, through Redwing,” Walker’s friend answered, dipping his head down to avoid Sam’s stony gaze.

“You hacked my tech?” “Sorry,” Walker laughed, “It’s not exactly hacking. It’s government property,” he gestured to himself, “Kind of the government.” My lips parted and I tilted my head, ”Are you kidding me?”

“I’m sorry,” Walker extended his hand out to me, “John Walker, Captain America. And you are?” I glanced between his hand and him, “Not impressed.” He awkwardly retracted it and turned away from me to Bucky, “Does he always just stare like that?” “You get used to it,” Sam replied, suddenly he had no problem with Bucky’s habit.

“Okay, look,” Walker cleared his throat, “You know things have gotten kind of, uh…” “Chaotic,” his friend finished for him.

“Yeah. The GRC, they’re doing the best they can to get things up and running smoothly, post Blip.” “Reactivating citizenship, social security, healthcare. Basically just managing resources for the refugees who were displaced by the return.”

“The Global Repatriation Council does all that, I get that,” Sam said impatiently, “So why exactly are you two here?”

“Well, they provide the resources and we keep things stable,” the soldier answered.

“Yeah, violent revolutionaries aren’t usually good for anyone’s cause,” Walker said. “Usually said by the people with the resources,” Sam looked up from the work he was doing on my leg to look dead at Walker.

“We got a lot of resources,” he stated confidantly, “If you guys, if you joined up with us, we could-“ “No,” Bucky and I said in unison, now having agreed on two things. Walker was a phony and wizards weren’t real.

“I got mad respect for both of ya’ll,” Walker’s friend complimented, “You too, ma’am. But you were kinda getting your asses kicked till we showed up.” Bucky finally dragged his stare off of Walker, “Who are you?” “Lemar Hoskins.” “Look, I see a guy hanging out of a helicopter in tactical gear, I need a lot more than Lemar Hoskins,” Sam commented.

“I’m Battlestar,” Lemar reintroduced himself, “John’s partner.” “‘Battlestar?’” Bucky echoed the ridiculous nickname, snapping his head suddenly toward the driver, “Stop the car!”

The driver obeyed and quickly halted in the middle of the road, giving Bucky the opportunity to jump out of the car. He raised his eyebrows expectantly, waiting for me to join him but I wasn’t about to leave Sam’s side. I held a hand up to him to which he responded by closing the back door and starting down the path that veered off the main road. 

“Look, I…I get it, okay? I get the attitude, I do,” Walker started, he couldn’t come close to understanding how insulted all three of us were for one uniting reason, “You don’t think that the shield was gonna end up here. I get it, Bucky,” even the call of his name wasn’t enough to make him stop, “And I’m…I’m not trying to be Steve. I’m not trying to replace Steve.” “Could’ve fooled me,” I snorted, removing my leg from Sam’s lap as he’d stopped rubbing it long ago. “I’m just trying to be the best Captain America I can be, that’s it,” Walker focused his eyes on my brother, “It’d be a whole lot easier if I had Cap’s wingmen on my side.” Sam scoffed and looked out of the corner of his eyes at me as if to make sure he hadn’t heard incorrectly. He hadn’t, and I was about two seconds away from putting my powers to good use and beating Walker with his own shield that he could never truly hold ownership of. “It’s always that last line…”

Sam climbed over me and hopped out first before helping to lower me to the ground. A defeated Walker ordered the driver to leave and we watched to make sure they actually left for good. “Torres said he’s nice?” I asked sarcastically as we resumed our familiar posture of Sam helping me walk. “Torres is young, impressionable and follows every order he’s given. Guys like Walker have a problem with anyone who doesn’t take their every word as gospel.”

“Well, your mom made us attend enough church when we were kids for me to know that right there,” I pointed back to the car that was now a dot in the distance, “Is a false prophet.” 

I trained my eyes ahead of us, Bucky hadn’t gotten too far and it looked like he had actually slowed his pace for us to catch up easier. While I was angry with the government for appointing Walker and the man himself, I knew that the pain Sam and Bucky were feeling was exponentially heavier to deal with. They’d already lost their friend and Walker was the salt being rubbed in the wound.

When we did eventually make it to the plane an hour later, I was biting back tears at how much pain I was in. Sam took notice of how I was trying to conceal them as we approached the tarmac and carried me the rest of the way. 

“I gotta check for any internal bleeding,” he said as he set me down gently on the seats of the jet, “And you’re going home.” “No, I’m not,” I moaned. “Yes, you are,” he scolded as he lifted up my shirt to the bottom of my bra so that he could get a clear view of my abdomen, “Sarah’s gonna pound my ass into the ground as it is for bringing you back bruised.” My eyes could no longer stay opened, further fluttering shut as I didn’t hear Sam state that he saw anything concerning. “Get some sleep,” he ordered, “I’ll take care of anything I find.” Just before I drifted off, I heard a second body kneel down next to Sam. “She okay?” “Yeah, she’ll be fine,” he answered Bucky, “I just should have never brought her.” 

————

When I did wake up, the plane was dark except for the minimal lighting towards the cockpit. I attempted to sit up, biting back a groan as I did. There was a blanket draped over my bottom half and my jacket was now folded underneath my head as a makeshift pillow. Sam was sleeping upright near my feet, arms crossed and snoring quietly.

“Glad to see you’re okay,” a quiet voice startled me, I turned to see it was Bucky. “A little out of my depth,” I remarked, rubbing one of my eyes, “But yeah, okay.” 

Bucky nodded and looked back down at his folded hands, for some reason the contrast of the gold and black metal meeting the pale flesh fascinated me. He must’ve sensed I was staring because he peered up at me through his lashes. I quickly looked away, “I’m guessing we’re on our way back to New Orleans.” “Baltimore, actually,” he replied.

“What’s in Baltimore?” I whispered, trying not to wake Sam. “Someone that Sam needs to meet.” “Okay,” I slowly swung my legs off the seats to properly face him, “Who’s in Baltimore?” Bucky gave me a tired look, “Just someone, you’ll meet him too.” I bristled slightly at his answer, shooting him a half smile. “You don’t trust people, do you, Barnes?”

I wouldn’t call what his lips did was a smile, but maybe a sarcastic knock off of one. “You ask a lot of questions, you know?”

“Only when people don’t give me any answers,” I fired back in a contradictorily easy tone, “Look, you don’t have to trust me. That’s fine, I’m going home after whatever surprise you have for us anyway so you won’t have to deal with me slowing you guys down anymore.” “Sam was endangering you by bringing a civilian to an Avengers level fight,” he quickly said, “That’s on him, not you. And none of us were exactly at our best today.” A supercut of the three of us each getting slapped around silly on top of the trucks played in my mind. He was definitely right, nobody could have predicted that we’d be thrown for such a loop. Not even the man pretending to be Captain America. “For what it’s worth, I’m sorry about Walker,” I offered as softly as I could, “I’ve watched him parade that shield around on tv for days and I’ve gotten angrier each time. Not saying it’s the same as what you’re feeling but…I’m just sorry.” Bucky didn’t respond, he actually looked away from me and back down at his hands. “You should get some more sleep, we’re still a ways out.” It was clear I wasn’t going to get anywhere with him, not that I felt any burning desire to try to get him to open up. I’d only tried out of politeness and the slight glimmer of curiosity I held when it came to what lay beneath his hardened surface. “Goodnight, Barnes,” I said, laying back down and rolling over so I didn’t have to look at him any longer.

----

A/N: Let me know what you thought and/or if you’d like to be tagged! There’s still a lot of surprises that are coming...

Safe Haven taglist: @tanyaherondale​ @wanniiieeee​ @asoftie4bucky​ @edencherries​ @i-reblog-fics-i-like​ @ttalisa​ @gcfty @withyoutilltheendofthismess​ @rinaispunk​ @weirdowithnobeardo​ @felicityofbakerstreet​ @godlypotterwhodiaries​ @eternalharry​ @voguesir​ @mizz-kraziii​ @okayline​ @smellmymisunderstoodfluff @wanderin-stories​ @nicklet94 @intricate-melody​ @aesthethickks​ @stumbleonmywords​ @simplybarnes​ @21bruhs​ @lostinwonderland314​ @superbookishhufflepuff​ @themaddies-obx

[magicinavalon]

Hey Mia :) hey goose :) remember in December when you were all “oh I could never brainrot over more than one fandom” and “oh Harry styles is just some guy” and when in February you said “I like a few of his songs, but im not like a full fledged fan of his” about Harry styles and when you didn’t have any feelings about Bucky Barnes or Sam Wilson and when you crumpled like ten day old gingerbread when Mona asked you to read trc and how you ended up having a CaPri plot before Mona!??? Hey Mia, hey goose, heyyyy do you remember??? All these things??? Because hi I do 🙂

Hey, hey Atlanta fuck offfffff and have this I hope it makes you cry <3

Sam Wilson: Every time I pick this thing up, I know there are millions of people out there who are going to hate me for it. Even now, here. I feel it. The stares, the judgment, and there’s nothing I can do to change it. And I’m still here. No super serum. No blonde hair or blue eyes. The only power I have is that I believe we can do better.

We can’t demand that people step up if we don’t meet them halfway. You control the banks. Shit, You can move borders. You can knock down a forest with an email. You could feed a million people With a phone call. But the question is, who was in the room with you when you’re making those decisions? Is it the people you’re going to impact? Or is it just more people like you?

I mean, this girl died trying to stop you. And no one has stopped for one second to ask why. You’ve got to do better. Senator, you’ve got to step up because if you don’t, the next Karli will, and you don’t want to see 2.0. People believed in her cause so much that they helped her defy the strongest governments in the world. Why do you think that is? A few people have just as much power as an insane God or misguided teenager. The question you have to ask yourself is how are you going to use it?

[dcforts]

[week 3: i can still recall our last summer]

1.6k, pre s12.

Dean said it was too hot. He’d said it fifty times already since they left the bunker this morning and they were not even halfway through the journey.

He huffed and puffed, saying how uncomfortable he was in his jeans and tshirt and how much he hated his sweaty skin sticking to the vinyl seat. Cas tried to look sympathetic.

“I can’t even look at you right now,” said Dean, his eyes on the road, little drops of sweat above his upper lip. “At least loose the trench coat. I feel like I’m wearing it, it’s making me physically sick,” he said overly dramatic.

Cas indulged him and slipped it off, took off his jacket as well and loosened his tie.

Then he unbottoned his cuffs and rolled the sleeves of his shirt up to his elbows. He did a pretty nice job of it, he thought. He'd had done it a couple of times before, but Dean always said it looked messy and usually rolled them down again to do them himself.

Cas didn't mind that too much; Dean's fingertips travelling up his arms felt different than anything else he'd have ever experienced and he kind of started anticipating it.

Dean must have felt really bad today though, because he didn’t do anything but throw a quick look at him. Despite not being affected by it, Cas could tell the weather was unusually hot and Dean was definitely not used to it. Still, he could do with a change of topic.

Dean seemed to cheer up a bit when they passed a sign saying they were nearing a gas station, but then spent the time it took to get there to complain some more and apologize to his girl for not thinking of getting her a drink sooner. Cas managed to avoid making a comment on Dean talking about his car like that.

The place was pretty much empty. There were only two pumps that looked pretty old and a little store behind them. Dean stopped the car at the pump closer to the road and wriggled in his seat to take out a few dollar bills from his jeans, “I’m gonna get gas, could you go ahead to pay and get me something to drink?”

Cas nodded, “Sure.”

So he stepped into the store where the A/C was blasting and some mellow music was playing in the background. He wandered towards the fridges that held the beverages and spent a while trying not to feel overwhelmed by the choices available.

He knew what kind of beer Dean preferred, but it was too early for that. He scanned the shelves and looked for something that seemed refreshing.

There was one kind of juice that promised to be a "Natural Fruit Drink" and was stored in little colourful pouches. It looked refreshing enough. He grabbed two lemonaded drinks and a big water bottle.

“Would you consider this being a refreshing beverage?”

The old lady at the cash register smiled at him as if he was being funny, “Sure. There’s only one*, right?” she said, winking. She looked like she was expecting a reaction from him, but Cas didn’t know what to say. First of all, he was paying for two pouches.

“Uh –"

“Nevermind, dear,” she huffed a laugh, “you were probably too young to remember.”

That was highly unlikely, Cas thought. Thankfully she was handing him his receipt already so he was able to get away from the conversation with a, "Have a good day, ma’am.”

When he got outside Dean was waiting for him leaned against the Impala. There was no one else still, so he wasn’t in a hurry to free the space and lose the shade of the canopy over his head.

He had his arms crossed and looked like he was thinking intensely. Probably a way to murder the Sun.

He looked up when Cas approached, “What you got for me?”, he said and when he saw what he was carrying, he had the funniest reaction.

He started laughing.

“What?”

“Capri Sun?” he laughed some more, genuinely delighted, “God,” he said, taking one of the pouches from Cas, “Wh-why did you get these?” he asked in a silly voice and didn’t even wait for Cas to reply. “I haven’t had one of these in like – forever.”

He turned the pouch in his hands and then his smile softened and disappeared. He cleared his throat and knitted his eyebrows.

“You don’t like it?” Cas asked, confused by the sudden change of expression. “I also got you water.”

“Uh – no,” said Dean, “No, nothing like that. It’s just –” he was still turning the thing in his hands and not making any move to start drinking it. “These remind me of my mum?” he said like it was a question. He looked up at him and let out a little laugh. “It’s – weird. I can’t really – I mean I was three. I know I can’t possibly remember, and maybe most of the things are like – a wish or a dream or something, but – You know when you get like, memories from tastes and stuff? Like in In Search of Lost Time.”

Cas didn’t really know.

It must have read on his face because Dean snorted, “Forget it,” and kept going, “It brings me back to when I was a kid and – I don’t know.” He looked at the pouch. “I think it was summer? Must have been summer. I don’t even – She’d like, take me to the park, I think. I don’t remember Sam being there, so it must have been the last summer where it was just me and her, you know, before she – ” he trailed off, his hand gently squeezing the pouch. “Yeah. Anyway, I don't even know if it's real. Could be a commercial or something." He clicked his tongue, then finally jammed the straw in the plastic and brought it to his lips.

Cas was still standing there, his hands full, watching him as he drank. There was more to the story and he didn't want to interrupt. Sure enough, Dean added, “Anyway, when she was gone and we got on the road, money got a bit tight. I remember crying and kicking ‘cause my dad wasn’t buying it for me. That I remember well. I remember I learned not to ask for it anymore. So I had kind of – forgotten about it.”

He fell silent. Dean's childhood had been unfair and tragic and if Cas could have had the power to do something to set it right he would have. Dean rarely talked about it so casually. He didn't seem sad like other times, but as he finished his drink, Cas still felt the need to tell him, "I didn't mean to upset you."

"No, I'm not upset," he was quick to reply, shrugging, "I mean, real or not, it makes me feel good." He flashed out a smile, "It's making me feel good right now," he said, raising his eyebrows playfully at him, "Guess it'll remind me of today now too. And at least I'm sure this is real."

“Is today really a good memory?" asked Cas, skeptical, "You complained all the way here. And I thought you said, 'I'd rather go back to Hell than live another day like this.'"

Dean snorted, “Yeah, well," he said, one corner of his mouth going up in half a smile, "the weather is not all there is."

He looked away and walked a few steps to throw out the empty pouch. On his way back he headed straight towards Cas, and came to stand very close to him.

Cas blinked, “Do you want the other one?”

Dean smiled like he was being funny. “Nah, I’ll drink that later,” he said, but still took out of his hands both the water bottle and the juice and Cas didn’t understand what was going on when Dean sent them bouncing onto the backseat from the open window, barely taking his eyes off of him. Cas could not help but stare back.

“What-" he tried to ask, but Dean was already cupping his left elbow with one hand, soon joined by the other and unrolling the sleeve of his shirt. Oh.

Dean lowered his gaze as he worked and Cas took the chance to stare at him from such a short distance, focus on his eyelashes, his sweaty brow, the dark freckles on his skin. He was really close, closer than Cas thought he'd like to be in this heat. Cas' arm dangled by his side like a dead weight when he released it and his right arm was already halfway up in offering. Seeing that made Dean smile a little.

They were really close.

They were really close and Cas kind of wanted to step closer.

“You are so bad at this,” Dean huffed, his fingertips and knuckles brushing his skin. Cas thought it hadn’t looked that bad, but Dean would surely know better than he. He'd almost finished rolling up the other one as well, and he was slowing down his movements.

Cas wished he had four other arms.

"So -" Dean said, taking his time to smooth the last of the wrinkles, "How about a deal? If I start complaining too much, you -", he pursed his lips like he was thinking it through, but he was just trying to be funny. Cas found him funny, "you can play some music, drown out my voice."

"Do I get to choose the tape?" Cas asked, feigning innocence.

Dean looked up to give him an unamused look that said he was taking it too far, but when their eyes met he realized Cas had been waiting for that and was actually holding back a grin.

So Dean puffed a sigh to smooth the smile that was threatening to curl his lips. It didn't really work so he had to look away to hide it.

"Fine," he said in the end, finally letting go of his arm. He gave him a pat on his shoulder as he walked past him. "I'll let you choose the tape." He pointed a finger at him from the other side of the car. "Just this one time."

Cas was fine with that.

*a reference to the 82' commercial you can see here - just a fun a coincidence that it's the same year Dean's referring to :)

@bend-me-shape-me said #deancassummerprompts21 and I said YES

[gabriel-agreste-has-no-rights]

20 Questions: Writer’s Edition

thanks for the tag @carpisuns!! (Mayrssa my friend maryssa <3)

How many works do you have on AO3?

145

What’s your total AO3 word count?

1,369,437 (I have been posting since 2011)

How many fandoms have you written for and what are they?

6 (plus a few misc crossovers). Undertale, Deltarune, Kingdom Hearts, Miraculous Ladybug, ATLA, and Danny Phantom are the big ones

What are your top five fics by kudos?

Your Kitty

Charcoal Lines

Two Hundred and Fifty-Four

The Wrong Balcony

A Secret Worth Keeping

Most of these are marichat lol and all of them are ML. Probably helps that ML is a fandom that's still very active, but also ML fans tend to be much better about leaving comments/kudos overall from what I've seen. I appreciate it :)

(also gonna put the rest under a cut)

Do you respond to comments, why or why not?

yeah!! I'm not always fast but comments always make my day and I want people to know that :D

What’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending?

The Undying, which is kind of a necessity for writing an aborted No Mercy (Undertale) fic. I still think it ended the best it could under the circumstances, but (not really a spoiler) Papyrus and Toriel are dead of course and there's no getting around that ;; So it's pretty bittersweet overall

OH WAIT I 100% forgot about Necromancy, which is a Danny Phantom fic where Sam dies in a ghost attack and comes back as a ghost herself. There's also a good amount of body horror in that one. I think it's still bittersweet, and I don't want to spoil the ending, but it's definitely a lot angstier than my other stuff.

What’s the fic you’ve written with the happiest ending?

Most of my fics have happy endings so I'm not sure how to rank them haha. My ML fics in particular tend to have very good identity reveal outcomes

Do you write crossovers? If yes, what’s the craziest thing you’ve written?

Very rarely but yeah. Tied between Kingdom Hearts/Megamind (Villain Capri-tiaSUN) and Kingdom Hearts/My Little Pony (Vanitas Does Not Like Ponies) lol. Coincidentally those both involve Vanitas

Have you ever received hate on a fic?

Yeah but usually it's dumb lol. My Vanqua fics (kingdom hearts ship) tend to get hate for being a rarepair and because im still a fool who posts to FFN (most of my old reviewers are still there). I've also had hate for making Vanitas ace before (it came up late in the fic after he was already in a relationship and people did not like that despite that being. literally what happened in my personal life LOL)

Do you write smut? If so what kind?

nope

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

not that I know of

Have you ever had a fic translated?

Some of my ML fics have been translated into russian! shout out to translaters you guys are the real ones

Have you ever co-written a fic?

Me and Winter share headcanons so much we're essentially cowriting Undertale stuff lol. Also she beta read a bit of Home Base and fixed it enough I counted her as a cowriter dslkf

I also cowrote Villain Capri-tiaSUN with @ma-tsu-the-male-goddess!

What’s your all time favourite ship?

Vanqua (Vanitas/Aqua kingdom hearts) my beloved. I've been writing them for almost 10 years now so yeah

What’s a WIP you want to finish but don’t think you ever will?

I believe I will finish everything I currently have posted but First Dance, Second Chance is definitely the one that gets abandoned for the longest periods of time between updates oof

What’s your writing strengths?

Dialogue and making fics have angst and humor at the same time

What’s your writing weaknesses?

fight scenes. staying on task with one fic instead of jumping between a million wips. descriptions

What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in fic?

only if it's specifically meant to not be understood by the narrating character. but even then it can be kind of annoying lol (I put Japanese lyrics in an Undertale fic before because Undyne was listening and had no idea what it meant dksfjs)

What was the first fandom you wrote for?

Pokemon. None of those are on AO3 though and they were garbage anyway lol (I really liked N from Black & White). Pretty soon after was Kingdom Hearts

What’s your favourite fic you’ve written?

you would have me choose between my children I'm very attached to Cast a Shadow and its sequels even though it's by no means my best fic. (I started writing it in 2014 and it shows.) For ML it's probably The Wrong Balcony, and for Undertale I'll say... aaaaa I can't choose actually ;; Let's Do the Mortal Coil Shuffle is my comprehensive post-pacifist fic, so I'll go with that.

Tagging (if you want to):

@marinetteplztakeabreak (whichever blog you wanna do this on), whoever else wants to do this (I can't remember who's been tagged already)

[lucky-clover-gazette]

kings rising highlights & annotations

chapter 12

indented text is from the book. some quotes have commentary, some do not. some comments are serious, and some are definitely not. most of them will only make sense to people who have read the series. and, like, there are spoilers. so please read the books first if you're interested!

also: part of the reason i'm doing such a close reading is to study cs pacat's style, especially in terms of how she does romance and erotica. there are "craft notes" that might seem weird, like i'm being redundant or restating something rather than analyzing, but those are more things that i want to remember/take away from the writing!

i'm going to tag these longer posts with "sam reads capri" in case anyone wants to read them all at once.

this is a google doc i wrote with overall content warnings for the captive prince series. it's not perfect, but i do think it's important to include.

It was as if some protective membrane had been torn away and everything that he had not let himself feel was exposed behind the rupture.

this is a beautifully written sentence

He had nothing left to hold it back, only this raw, terrible feeling, of being denied family.

it’s interesting how he takes this as being denied family. it’s less of a literal denial, and more of him reckoning with the reality he’s been avoiding for the entire series: his father and kastor were/are incredibly flawed people, and in kastor’s case actively committed/attempted familicide. it’s less the denial of family itself and more the denial of the family he thought he had, and the ideal of family being loyal and dependable. that same disillusionment must have happened to laurent when auguste died and the regent started mistreating him.

In his life, he had known only one parent. His father had been to him a set of ideals, a man he looked up to, and strove to please, a standard against whom he measured himself. Since his father’s death, he had not allowed himself to think or feel anything but determination that he would return, that he would see his home again, and restore himself to the throne.

okay i think i kinda hinted at some mild criticism of king’s rising in my last set of annotations, and a some people agreed in that it seems like she had an editor and was writing to be traditionally published. i think i see that here. i don’t think captive prince or prince’s gambit pacat would have spelled this out here, as clearly as she does. it’s well-written, but also something we could easily understand between the lines. it almost feels less effective this way, although that’s partially because i’m so used to a certain style and approach from the author.

Now he felt as if he stood in front of his father, felt his father’s hand in his hair, as he never would again. He had wanted his father to be proud of him; and had failed him, in the end.

yeah, i’m sorry, but this feels really out of place. both in terms of the writing and the fact that it’s included at all. feels like some editor was like “you need to spell it out for the casual readers who are just interested in the porn if you want the scene to be effective.” the turns of phrase are a little trite and the entire thing just seems so… obvious? maybe i’m being too harsh, but i am curious what others think.

Laurent said, ‘No. I’m not here to—’ He said, ‘I’m just here.’

this is a lovely line. laurent knows damen thinks his presence is a call to action, but wants him to know he’s safe and can just exist. a little bit of a reversal between them.

Laurent, he realised, had guarded his solitude for him. And his people, fearing the fierce, strange foreign prince, had done as Laurent ordered, and stayed out. He was stupidly, profoundly grateful for that.

again with the reversal—similar to what happened after aimeric/nicaise

Before he could, he felt Laurent’s fingers on the back of his neck, a shock of touch that caught him in a tumult of confusion as it drew him forward, simply. It was, from Laurent, slightly awkward; sweet; rare; stiff with obvious inexperience. If he had been offered this as an adult, he couldn’t remember it.

<3 i still think we’re getting a lot spelled out for us, but it’s so lovely here that i don’t mind.

‘Now you are taking advantage of my kind-hearted instincts,’ Laurent said, a murmur into his ear.

:)

He let his lips form a half-smile. ‘You aren’t going to offer me one of your gaudy Veretian handkerchiefs?’ ‘You could use the clothing you’re wearing. It’s about the same size.’ ‘Your poor Veretian sensibilities. All those wrists and ankles.’ ‘And arms and thighs and every other part.’ ‘My father’s dead.’

YEP THIS IS GREAT. love how it takes this swift u-turn away from their usual banter. we know these characters and how they usually speak, so this is effective on its own

The words had a finality to them.

... so we don’t need this! we GET that finality from the way they heavily contrast with the light banter and stop it abruptly with "my father's dead."

His father was buried in Akielos beneath the columned halls of the silent, where the pain and confusion of his last days would never trouble him again.

this might be giving us a little hint of damen almost wanting to be dead himself? in the sense that it would be peaceful, to not have to deal with this bullshit. he hasn't grown up having these kinds of feelings acknowledged so he's unprepared to cope with them now.

‘You thought he was a warmonger. An aggressive, war-hungry king, who invaded your country on the flimsiest of pretexts, hungry for land and the glory of Akielos.’ ‘No,’ said Laurent. ‘We don’t have to do this now.’

laurent doesn’t disagree. the “no” is for “i’m not letting you do this yourself emotionally.” and laurent would know all about torturing himself with harsh realities about dead people during intimate and vulnerable moments, so that’s really saying something

‘A barbarian,’ said Damen, ‘with barbaric ambitions, fit only to rule by the sword. You hated him.’ ‘I hated you,’ said Laurent. ‘I hated you so badly I thought I’d choke on it. If my uncle hadn’t stopped me, I would have killed you. And then you saved my life, and every time I needed you, you were there, and I hated you for that, too.’ ‘I killed your brother.’

this feels a little bit like a summary, but i’ll allow it since they’re having an honest conversation while knowing each other fully for like the first time. do you think this is the chapter that was edited/pitched to publishers first? i don’t know exactly how publishing works, but it does feel just kind of weird

‘What are you doing here?’ Damen said.

i like how we get some insecurity from damen here. we don’t see it often, like this. he is surprised that laurent wants him, even while he is being vulnerable. i’d say it’s a toxic masculinity thing, but in the context of this world it’s more of a toxic royalty thing

Laurent said, ‘I know what it’s like to lose family.’

(as an answer to “what are you doing here?”) i get what this is trying to say, i think. laurent is looking past his anger at damen for auguste and offering him empathy, even though damen caused the tragedy that allows laurent to be empathetic in this case. it still feels… slightly off, though. maybe it’s even the fact that damen asked in the first place. maybe it’s the fact that laurent answered verbally. so much between them has been unspoken thus far, and i don’t see why that needs to change, even though they’re in a more supportive relationship. that can be implicit, too. and that unspoken understanding makes it even more intimate and distinctly Them.

‘Is there no way forward for us?’ said Damen. It just came out. Beside him, he could feel Laurent holding himself very still. ‘You mean, will I come back to your bed for the little time we have left?’ ‘I mean that we hold the centre. We hold everything from Acquitart to Sicyon. Can we not call it a kingdom and rule it together? Am I such a poorer prospect than a Patran princess, or a daughter of the Empire?’

he mentions unification so casually, which is both rewarding to the reader who has been screaming it for chapters but also kind of… annoying? i don’t know, so much of this feels in service of the imminent sex scene. kind of rushed or dumbed down. so much tension has been meticulously built, and they’ve had sex under far less resolved conditions. here it’s almost like there’s a checklist of Things Damen and Laurent Have to Agree On/Share About Themselves Emotionally Before They Can Satisfyingly Fuck For The First Time As Themselves. but like, these bitches are messy. always have been, always will be. and they’ve always BEEN themselves. to just try to quickly resolve and drop the mess feels inconsistent, and makes the execution of the sex less unique and ironically more shallow, maybe

When he made himself look at Laurent, Laurent’s eyes on him were very dark, his voice quiet. ‘How can you trust me, after what your own brother did to you?’ ‘Because he was false,’ said Damen, ‘and you are true. I have never known a truer man.’ He said, into the stillness, ‘I think if I gave you my heart, you would treat it tenderly.’

contrast to what he’s learned about his family—kastor and his father, because the negative things he said about his father as if laurent believes them are also things damen has come to believe.

it’s a sweet line. and kind of insane, given everything laurent has done. but i think it works, because we know damen has been like this about laurent from the start. and we also know its difficult for laurent to believe or accept that anyone would want to trust him with their heart. i wish we could have had this interaction be spoken, but with FAR less of the previous conversation here. start the scene with laurent entering, have them comfort each other physically but unable to speak. or speak around the subject, instead of hitting the nail on the head. then give them this extremely direct moment, and it would be a lot more effective.

listen i’m not saying i’m better or smarter or anything, it is ultimately a matter of taste and i’ve been taking a break from the books. but i have done a VERY CLOSE READING of this series so far, so i feel at least somewhat capable of analyzing it in this way. if that makes sense.

Laurent turned his head, denying Damen his face.

this doesn’t feel like a pacat line. the construction of it does, but i feel like she’d say something far less direct and far more poetic than “denying his face”

Damen could see his breathing. After a moment he said in a low voice, ‘When you make love to me like that, I can’t think.’ ‘Don’t think,’ said Damen. Damen saw the flickering change, the tension, as the words provoked an internal battle. Damen said, ‘Don’t think.’ ‘Don’t,’ said Laurent, ‘toy with me. I—have not the means to—defend against this.’ ‘I don’t toy with you.’ ‘I—’ ‘Don’t think,’ said Damen. ‘Kiss me,’ said Laurent. And then flushed, a rich colour. Don’t think, Damen had said, but Laurent couldn’t do that. Even to sit there after what he had said, he was fighting a battle in his head. The words hung awkwardly, a blurt, but Laurent didn’t take them back, he just waited, his body singing with tension. Instead of leaning in, Damen took Laurent’s hand, brought it towards himself, and kissed his palm, once.

yeah.

He had learned in the course of their one night together to tell when Laurent was taken unawares—taken aback. It wasn’t easy to anticipate, the gaps in Laurent’s experience not mapping to anything that he understood. He felt it now, Laurent’s eyes very dark, uncertain of what he should do. ‘I meant—’ ‘Don’t let you think?’ Laurent didn’t answer.

this is. such an interesting way to bring in previous themes of consent and submission. bc this is by all means consensual, but laurent is almost asking damen to just take what he wants, because his anxiety is so bad that he doesn’t really WANT to be asked what he wants or made to initiate. it's submission willingly given because laurent trusts damen, both in terms of seeing and understanding his weakness here and in taking care of his pleasure. laurent asking outright to not have to be strong in this situation, and trusting damen to treat him well while his guard is down. trusting him with his heart, just as damen has sworn to trust laurent with his.

Laurent’s wariness was not, at this moment, the high walls of the defended citadel. It was that of a man with a portion of his guard down, who was desperately unused to it.

After a moment: ‘At Ravenel, I—it had been a long time since I had—with anyone. I was nervous.’ ‘I know,’ said Damen. ‘There has,’ said Laurent. He stopped. ‘There has only been one other person.’ Softly, ‘I’m a little more experienced than that.’ ‘Yes, that is immediately apparent.’ ‘Is it?’ A little pleased. ‘Yes.’

THIS is lamen dialogue. so much unsaid, and it’s perfect, because we know what it’s all implying.

‘Laurent, I’d never hurt you.’ He heard Laurent’s strange, disbelieving breath, and he realised what he had said. ‘I know,’ said Damen, ‘that I did hurt you.’ Laurent’s motionlessness was careful, even his breathing was careful. He didn’t turn back to look at Damen. ‘I hurt you, Laurent.’ ‘That’s enough, stop,’ said Laurent. ‘It wasn’t right. You were just a boy. You didn’t deserve what happened to you.’ ‘I said that’s enough.’ ‘Is it so hard to hear?’

big moment for damen, realizing he did something to hurt laurent and admitting it. this has been building for a while with his guilt about his father and slavery and everything else akielos stands for. damen has always lied to himself, a lot. he almost treats this scene like a confession.

on the laurent side of things: this is damen admitting he was wrong, but still wanting to be better. i think that confuses laurent, to think that anyone would ever want to treat him well when they’re strong enough to hurt him. also, this is just generally intense for laurent, but he's still here despite his discomfort because he cares about damen.

this entire scene really is just an insane amount of honesty and vulnerability from them both. it's quick to overwhelm laurent, while damen seems to be getting kind of addicted to it and wanting more. which he gets, in more ways than one.

He thought of Auguste, thought how no boy deserved to lose his brother.

interesting line for a guy who ends up almost being murdered by his stepbrother and gets saved by his divorce husband, whose brother he killed, killing his stepbrother

He didn’t understand the forces that moved in Laurent, but some instinct pushed him to say it. ‘My first time, there was a lot of rolling around. I was eager and had no idea what to do. It’s not like Vere, we don’t watch people doing it in public.’ He said, ‘I still get too caught up near the end. I know I forget myself.’

awww :) he’s trying to make him feel less awkward. this is such a setting-transcendent moment. anyone would say something like this, whether in this weird horny semi historical fictional society or any other romance setting. "you're new to this, but so was i. and i still have my flaws."

A silence. It went on too long. He didn’t disturb it, watching the tense line of Laurent’s body.

love the patience here

‘When you kissed me,’ said Laurent, pushing the words out, ‘I liked it. When you took me in your mouth, it was the first time that I had . . . done that.’ He said, ‘I liked it when you—’

he’s so brave for saying this. i’m not being sarcastic. go laurent

Laurent’s reaction to kissing had always been complex: tense; vulnerable; hot. The tension was the greatest part of it, as though this single act was too much for him, too extreme. And yet, he had asked for it. Kiss me.

as always, the way laurent is not a normal romantic interest but still deeply loved and respected narratively makes me feel so happy. gives me hope etc

Don’t think, he’d said, because it was easier than saying, Take me for who I am. He couldn’t bear that suddenly. He wanted it without pretences, without excuses, his fingers curling hard into Laurent’s hair.

love this evolution. damen desperately wants laurent to be here and thinking, and knowing him, and still letting himself want this. again, with the almost addiction to honesty between them. he's getting swept up in it.

‘It’s me,’ said Damen. ‘It’s me, here with you. Say my name.’ ‘Damianos.’ He felt the sundering in Laurent at that, the name an admission, a statement of truth that came out of him, Laurent open to him with nothing to hide behind. He could hear it in Laurent’s voice. Prince-killer.

He wanted it, felt a surge of purely selfish desire as he thought of it, that Laurent knew it was him. That Laurent wanted this with him.

we know. this could have been left out.

It was subsumed, as it had to be, into the act of kissing. His body felt heavy, one form of penetration substituted for another, the tremors in Laurent not that of a single barrier crumbling, but shudders as though one after another were being brought down, each place unexplored, each place deeper than the last. Prince-killer.

so is this kind of meant to conjure the image of damen taking auguste down, right? breaking down defenses, penetration, etc. prince killer as in murderer, but he’s also killing laurent as in like. “lady-killer ;)”

He felt acutely aware that he was half on his back, naked, with Laurent fully clothed, astride, still wearing his polished boots and the high-necked, tightly laced collar of his jacket. It was a sudden, vulnerable fantasy that Laurent might simply get up and wander off, strolling the rooms, or sit in the chair opposite to sip wine with his legs crossed, while Damen was left exposed on the bed.

yeah damen, you WOULD be into that

Laurent didn’t do that. Laurent lifted his hands to his own neck. His eyes on Damen’s, slowly, he took up one of the tight-laced ties at his throat, and drew on it.

the EYE CONTACT!!!

In the dim light, Auguste was between them, sharp as a knife. The scar on his shoulder was the last thing Auguste had done before Damen had killed him. The kiss was like a wound, as if to do it Laurent was impaling himself on that knife. There was an edge of desperation to it, Laurent kissing like he needed it, his fingers clutching, his body unsteady.

it really feels like this should be cut at “wound.” maybe continue with a much more brief “laurent impaled himself.” we can MAKE the connection that it’s like he’s stabbing himself on this figurative thing, but doing it anyway because he wants it. it doesn’t need to be written out, it’s already on the page between the lines! it is SO bizarre to me that pacat's style has changed in this way in seemingly just this one chapter. maybe it's because i stepped away for a while, but honestly i can't see how i couldn't NOT have a sort of sixth sense for recognizing these weird moments given the amount of detail i've put into my analysis and reading. again, your thoughts are definitely appreciated.

He kissed back knowing it hurt him, hurt them both. There was a desperation in both of them, an aching need that could not be filled, and he could feel it in Laurent, the same unconscious striving.

another example of “we don’t need the second the sentence because the first already says it!!” i seriously suspect that this scene was written way more raw at first but an editor was like “you have to make it a lot more clear they both want it/they’re chill with each other over and over again so it’s not too vague”

another alternate explanation could be the chapter's overarching theme of abundant honestly, like almost an overwhelming amount of it, but i still don't think that explains the change in like, craft. there's a difference between characters changing their behavior through development or to make a thematic point, and the narrative itself shifting in how it tells the story. and while damen is kind of going from the extreme of lying to himself about everything to craving this truth, it's still strange to read, and feels like a very intense departure from their previous scenes together.

In a burst of explicit fantasy, he wished Laurent were a pet, or a slave, wished him a body that was not going to require extensive, coaxing preparation before it could be penetrated.

“you like it simple” flashbacks

i think both laurent and damen have moments of wanting this, but ultimately care far more for the more complicated and real parts of their relationship and selves. that was a lot of my chapter 7 analysis re-write. part of what i love about this pairing is that it's really not that much about the sex for them, which is highly ironic given gestures vaguely to the story and world. true intimacy between them has been in their conversations, their little sidequests together and the way they've connected intellectually and emotionally despite literally every odd being against that happening. it's in the way they are equals, and choose to devote themselves mutually, whether it's through despising or adoring each other. anyone can fuck; and especially in this series, almost everyone does. whatever damen and laurent do is wayyy more insane and complicated and interesting and real than that.

He wanted to be inside. He wanted to feel Laurent’s surrender shudder and give way, become total. He wanted no denying that Laurent had let him in, who he had let in. It’s me. His body primed, as though only in one act could this be driven home.

(heads up, i talk pretty explicitly about sexual assault and rape in the following paragraphs)

see, i don’t get how THAT is the ultimate sign of laurent "letting damen in." because anyone could fuck anyone if they’re powerful enough, right? that’s the whole tragedy of laurent, he sees himself as weak because this has been done to him before without his consent. i guess the surrender is in admitting he wants it, which does make sense with how everything has been set up. laurent has been assaulted and harassed and objectified by countless people, but damen is the only one he’s even given enthusiastic consent, so yeah i guess it is the ultimate sign of uhhhh accomplishment, for damen? for lack of a better word. but that still just feels OFF to me. the emotions and the logic of it.

i understand that there is a raw sort of honesty to sex; a body's natural response, fairly disconnected from morality or reason. damen has experienced that for laurent from the very start, and it's gotten him into trouble before. but despite that, he isn't a character who experiences shame about having those feelings, like, ever. the man had sex slaves, after all. he is horny despite the horrors, that's his thing.

i guess where i struggle is in, myself, thinking that the kind of primal sexual honesty here is real or meaningful in the same way the aforementioned emotional and intellectual intimacy are. like, there's something here that just bothers me. maybe it's the way damen is so swept up in the "honesty" of laurent letting himself be fucked, as a totally good and amazing and real thing. i get how damen might feel that way, but it's like, did the regent not also feel those same kinds of feelings, and act on them? if laurent had any kind of bodily response to his own assault, was that bodily honesty his emotional or intellectual truth? is it any different from the bodily honesty damen is appreciating here? this line of thinking is a common way that people convince others that they wanted or deserved their assault. i know damen is like deeply unqualified to understand that, and i know that laurent does want it and damen cares for him deeply, but i guess i almost feel protective of laurent in this moment, with the way damen is thinking during this scene.

all of the terrible people in this series who do so many things without consent, to degrade and disempower others or simply because they think they're entitled to it, are acting on the same primal urges as damen in this scene. what makes damen different from them, the entire reason laurent trusts damen enough to LET him do this, is the fact that damen respects laurent beyond those primal urges, and sees him as a person and not an object. raw sexual desire, by contrast, is just... simple.

i get a little lost here as a reader because, like laurent, i need to intellectualize everything always. i do not like it simple, often to my own detriment, admittedly. it’s hard for me to amend the idea of this like unmitigated desire for sexual honesty/vulnerability with damen genuinely respecting laurent, even though i know he does and that’s literally the entire point, that the two things can coexist and this is romantic and powerful because somehow they do. i can suspend my disbelief while reading this in fiction, but it’s harder to rationalize or understand based on my own experiences, and my knowledge of the real world. trusting another person with vulnerability is horrifying and the series knows it, but is trying to offer a strong rebuttal in the way damen and laurent love each other.

maybe it's just that in this scene, i'm not totally sold. or something.

‘Do it, I told you, I don’t care—’

there is a little part of me that’s like “uh is this what a person who really wants to be doing this would say??” but also i know damn well that i'm projecting so go off king i guess????

maybe i would have been more satisfied by this scene if damen did not fuck laurent here and now. i don't know. this analysis is poor, unobjective, confused and hypocritical. but i'm not struggling with it in a fun or enriching way, like with chapter 7, it just makes me feel kinda bad. so i'm pushing through.

He was inside Laurent. It felt raw and unprotected. He had never felt more like himself: Laurent had let him inside, knowing who he was.

yes. WE KNOW.

Damen’s grip, still oiled, was wrapped around the hottest, most honest part of Laurent.

“most honest part” yeah that pretty much sums up what makes me weird about this scene. the way damen DELIGHTS in the primal honesty of it all, beneath laurent’s carefully constructed defenses. i guess just, its been so nice reading damen being so respectful of laurent’s hesitations and boundaries, and therefore falling for his personality and intellect and genuinely growing to understand and respect him without the promise of submission or sex, so the framing of this being damen finally getting what he REALLY wanted from laurent the whole time is… kind of rough to read. like oh, this is REALLY intimacy. this is the height of it. but it's not. like, at all.

damen is not me, and i get that. but in previous times where damen has done shit i've felt weird about, i've never felt like the narrative has been poking at me to approve of it or feel positive catharsis. but this entire scene is so heavily written to be this great moment of celebration and positive catharsis, for protagonist and reader alike. but what are we even celebrating here? we're celebrating the honesty between damen and laurent about their identities, and the fact that they support each other anyway. given how much baggage they both have about sex, i almost feel like it would be a more effective scene if they DIDN'T fuck. like, laurent just hugging damen was beautiful. that kind of simple comfort, not inherently sexual, was unusual to damen. and therefore impactful. but noooo, the sex is supposed to be the pinnacle, and we made the way for it with some weirdly written overly explanatory dialogue shoved at the start of the scene. to be fair, damen does literally say, 'I still get too caught up near the end. I know I forget myself.’ which is kind of what I've just described happening.

i just don't think i am where the book wants me to be, with how i react to that. it's an odd feeling. i feel like everyone is going to read this and be like "wow she has issues, she's insane, you're supposed to like that he forgets himself and is consumed by his desires." but oh well. i usually don't enjoy the romance genre for a reason.

this series really does challenge my own ability to let simple desire coexist with the proven need to be highly intentional and thoughtful in caring about/interacting with others. it’s hard for me to believe those two things can be in harmony—that you can be honest and vulnerable, and not either be hurting someone, getting hurt by someone, enabling someone else’s self-harm, or hurting yourself.

i suppose some of the catharsis of this scene is that laurent and damen are doing this together, KNOWING they have hurt each other. that they will always have that between them, yet also knowing and trusting that they can and will treat each other well.

it’s just hard for me to see that as anything other than fantasy. it's not honest, it's not real, in the way i've come to understand those concepts both in my personal ethos and the ethos of the series. so this entire scene built around honesty as a theme just kind of falls flat. it’s tragic, really, that damen is so happy about this apparent truth between them when he is unaware of the very blatant and relevant reality of laurent’s history with sexual assault. it’s a powerful scene, but not for the reasons damen thinks it’s powerful. maybe pacat meant for that to be the case, maybe she didn’t, maybe editing made it weird. who knows.

but it is, as i’ve said in previous chapter analysis posts, a nice fantasy. i'm glad if it hits for other readers, and i respect that cs pacat put it here for a reason. maybe someday i'll re-read it and react differently.

[refinedpclette-a]

(use sam as weapon,,, (please don't- sam will get upset-) it's got the sharp teeth and it can also steal (read: eat) things,,, capri blue)

//maybe if the enemy is sentient foodstuffs,

//but yeah I just wanna show off bullet patterns maybe,,, and Swatch has yet to use that lovely Stars Ring.....

[honey-andtea1889]

The Cold Autumn Evenings (H.S.) Part Two

AN: Hello again lovies! So this part is kind of a filler but it’s not awful! I had to go and reread some bits to fix them up a bit but I think it’s decent! I’m sorry it took so long for this to go up as well. I was down in Arizona for a week and let me tell you I miss it a lot. Anywho, enjoy part two! Requests are open! 

Summary: Y/N got caught up in reading Harry’s story, unfortunately this is the reason for her being late

Warnings: none

Song: A Slow Death In Pacific Standard Time by HUNNY

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

The next morning seemed like a blur. Y/N woke up super early and continued where she left off in Harry’s story. In the chapter she was on, the man was about to profess his love for the girl, but she had been seen with someone else, leaving the man heartbroken and confused. Y/N could feel the tears slowly falling down her face as she continued the sad chapter. Her phone began ringing as she set the packet down to get breakfast. 

“Hello?” Y/N answered, sniffling and wiping her eyes with the sleeve of her sweater.

“Y/N! How’s my favorite- are you okay?” Harry questioned over the phone.

“Oh I’m fine! I was just reading something that got me a bit emotional is all. Is everything okay?” Y/N asked. 

“Yes, everything is fine. I usually hear from you by now about meetings or issues with clients but my phone was silent the entire morning and I just got worried. Are you at the office yet?” Harry said as he walked out of the fancy building in the middle of London. 

Y/N checked the time and nearly tripped on her way from the coffee machine. 

She was almost 45 minutes late. 

“Oh my god, I didn’t realize what time it was! I’m so sorry Mr. Styles, I’m leaving for the office right now!” Y/N squealed as she bolted to her bedroom to get dressed. 

“Y/N! Y/N, relax! It’s fine. I’m actually on my way to the office right now, I can pick you up if you’d like?” Harry suggested. 

“Are you sure?” Y/N asked. 

“Definitely! Send me the address and I’ll be there in 20.” He said as he hung up the phone. 

Y/N smiled as she texted him her address and entered her bathroom to brush her teeth. When her teeth were all brushed, Y/N did her hair and makeup. She wasn’t sure why, but she was nervous for Harry to see her flat. He was her boss and probably lived a lot better than she did, it made her a bit self conscious about it. 

The flat wasn’t awful. It was small, definitely built for one person or a couple who had just moved in together. The walls were a deep forest green with a brick accent wall that held a fireplace, a lighter shade of pine wood covering the floor. It had an open concept that led from the living room into the kitchen/dining area. Off of the living room to the left, there was a hallway that held the bathroom on the left side and Y/N’s room on the right. 

Her furniture was all given to her from her mother. A simple beige couch that was comfier than most couches sweetly decorated with green throw pillows and a dark brown recliner chair surrounded a small coffee table in the middle of the living room facing the fireplace. She had a small white blanket folded on the lower shelf of the table just in case it ever became too cold. She had shelves that were covered with books on both sides of the fireplace and pictures of family members and adorable plaques which gave an aesthetically pleasing look to her small flat. 

It was her cute little home that she loved dearly, but Harry doesn’t really come around so you could understand the nerves that ran through her as she scampered to get ready. As she fixed up her throw pillows and straightened up some books on her shelves, a loud knock echoed through her flat. Sam barked and ran over to the big mahogany door. 

“Sam, sh! Go into your bed please!” Y/N begged. 

The little frenchie snorted and ran over to his dog bed set along one of the walls. Y/N opened the door to see Harry dressed in black slacks, a white button up shirt, and a peacoat that ended right above his hips. His hair was slightly tousled due to the cold Autumn wind but he didn’t look anything less than perfect. Y/N swallowed hard at how ravishing this man looked. She had to make sure she wasn’t drooling in front of him. 

“Hello, Y/N! Are you ready?” Harry asked, cocking his head slightly to the side. 

Y/N shook herself out of her trance and blushed, hoping he didn’t notice her staring. 

“Almost, I just need to grab a few things. Please come in! Make yourself at home whilst I finish up.” Y/N smiled as she stepped to the side. 

Harry entered into her home and took in his surroundings as Y/N went back into her room to grab her bag and her phone. He thought her flat was adorable and it suited her perfectly. As he admired her cozy little home, Harry soon felt small paws scratching at his legs. He looked down to see Sam shaking his little stubby tail with excitement. 

“Okay, I think I’m all- oh my god I’m so sorry! Sam, don’t jump!” Y/N rushed over to pick up her sweet pup. 

“It’s alright, love! I didn’t know you had a dog. You said his name was Sam?” Harry questioned. 

“Yeah. He doesn’t usually jump on people like that. Guess you’re an exception!” Y/N giggled. 

Harry chuckled and rubbed behind Sam’s ear. The happy, little pooch licked his fingers and snorted with joy. Harry and Y/N laughed as she set Sam down. Harry looked at the small coffee table and saw his novel laying with the cover in clear sight. Smirking, he looked over at Y/N. 

“Is that why you’re late? Too busy reading  m’novel, eh?” Harry smirked.

Y/N could feel the blood rushing to her cheeks. 

“Y-yes. I-I just couldn’t put it down. It’s really good, actually. I’m not done with it yet but I’m getting close.” Y/N mumbled as she grabbed the packet. 

Harry chuckled and opened the door. Y/N kept her eyes on the ground as she exited her flat and made her way to the elevator. 

Harry thought it was cute whenever she was embarrassed about stuff. He specifically recalled the day he first started calling her “Love”. She turned three shades of pink and toyed with the strings on her blouse that hung around her breasts. He wasn’t sure as to why he enjoyed making her blush, maybe it was just the thought of being able to make her flustered is what made his ego skyrocket. Harry has always thought Y/N was attractive. She was his type for sure, with her Y/H/C hair and Y/E/C eyes, not to mention the curves she had, Harry was absolutely smitten to have a girl like her work for him. 

As Harry entered the elevator, Y/N was digging in her purse. 

“Leave something in you flat, love?” Harry asked. 

“I can’t seem to find my glasses. I don’t understand, I had them this morning.” Y/N sighed, still digging into the small brown bag. 

Harry had seen a slight glare on the top of Y/N’s head. He slowly reached and pulled the glasses she was looking for. Y/N shot her head up as soon as she felt his hands in her hair.

“Don’t move.” Harry said. 

Y/N’s knees nearly buckled as she kept still until the glasses were off of her head. 

“Are these the ones you seek?” Harry chuckled. 

The eye contact between the two was intense. They were looking at each other as though the other person was the only thing in the world. It was almost like a movie scene when the love interests had realized their feelings for one another. Harry and Y/N could feel the tension between them as she grabbed the spectacles from his large hands. As Y/N took ahold of part of the frames, her fingers brushed against Harry’s. It felt like sparks when the skin of their fingers grazed one another. The sudden jolt took both of them by surprise.

Y/N blushed again and thanked him. Harry smirked and slipped his hands in his pockets. The two travelled down the building in silence until Harry spoke up as they entered the lobby. 

“You really think m’novel is good?” He smiled, holding the door opened for her. 

“Mr. Styles please excuse the next statement but are you serious? It’s amazing so far! I mean there were a few spelling mistakes and you accidentally used the wrong ‘there’ for ownership once but other than that, it’s stunning so far!” Y/N gushed. 

It was Harry’s turn to blush now. He had been working on that stupid thing for months now. He couldn’t count how many days he suffered writer’s block for the novel, so to hear Y/N praise it as much as she was just filled his heart like no other. 

“Thank you, love. It really means a lot to me that you’re reading over it. It’s been a challenge writing it.” Harry said as they made their way to his car. 

Harry was driving  a newly redone 1970 black Ford Capri. Y/N’s jaw dropped as she slowly walked to the passenger side. Harry chuckled, opening the door for her again. She carefully slipped into the vehicle and looked around the interior. The seats were made of leather and the steering wheel was black with silver lining around the logo. Y/N felt like if she were to move something would happen to the car, she couldn’t start to think how much Harry paid for this. 

“Do you want to stop and grab some coffee before we head in? There’s a shop close to the office.” Harry asked. 

“Won’t we be late?” Y/N asked, looking at Harry as he buckled up. 

“Love, I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but we’re already an hour and fifteen minutes late.” Harry chuckled, starting the car. 

Y/N giggled as she fixed her hair. Harry smiled and drove to the small coffee shop close to the office. The two bought small coffees (her’s with extra sugar and pumpkin spice creamer, his just black) and made the last few miles to the office.

The pair had entered the office and parted ways when they reached Y/N’s desk. Claire had bolted over to Y/N once Harry had closed the door. 

“So..a meeting, huh?” Claire smirked as she sat on her friend’s desk. 

“Oh please Claire. He was at the meeting, I was simply running late this morning. I was reading something and just lost track of time I guess.” Y/N sighed, trying to get her things organized. 

Claire chuckled and leaned back slightly, trying to get a glance of Y/N’s neck. 

“What’re you doing?” Y/N asked.

“Just checking for hickeys.” Claire said, still trying to peak. 

Y/N laughed and nudged her friend softly. 

“I’m serious, nothing happened! I mean..there was the elevator when he picked me up from my flat.” She sighed. 

Claire’s eyes almost bulged out of  her head. She nearly jumped over the desk asking for details. 

“Okay! Okay! I couldn’t find my glasses this morning when we left my flat, but of course they were on my head. Mr. Styles had seen them and grabbed them for me, however when I took them from him, I had accidentally touched his hand and Claire, I’m telling you I felt sparks. I’m sure he felt them too! It just seemed like something out of a romance novel or something.” 

Like Harry’s Novel Y/N thought. The slight pink color in her cheeks obviously gave away how she felt for Harry. Claire smiled as she watched Y/N beam. She’s not seen her this happy about someone in a while and that absolutely filled Claire’s heart. The last guy Y/N had dated was a total tool. He was gross and never treated her the way she deserved to be treated. Claire knew Harry respected women more than anything. That’s what made him the most attractive! She wouldn’t have to worry about beating his ass. 

“Maybe see if he wants to hang out after work! I don’t see why he wouldn’t say yes to you.” Claire said as she made her way to her desk. 

Y/N chuckled as she grabbed the packet she had gotten lost in this morning. She turned to the page in which she had left off and began reading again, annotating little notes for ideas and questions she had. She had glanced over to the door that led into Harry’s office and smiled. 

Maybe she should see if he would like to hang out later. 

[teenwolffan-with-nolife]

The Witch and The Wolf Pt.31

Word Count: 2,809

Characters: Derek Hale, Isaac Lahey, Vernon Boyd (brief), Stiles Stilinski, Scott McCall, Lydia Martin, Allison Argent, Ethan Steiner (brief), Reader

Pairings: Derek Hale x Witch!Reader

Warnings: angst, TW: Suicide, small fluff (sam warnings as episode Motel California)

A/N: ---

Masterlist         Series Masterlist

Glen Capri

You read the name of the motel, facing the window as the bus stopped.

The lacrosse meet was pushed till tomorrow, leaving Beacon Hills to stay at a dingy-looking motel. Something was off about it.

“Hey,” you looked up as Scott sat next to you.

“Hey, how do you feel?” you asked softly.

“I’m fine. Thanks to you,” you nodded your head, continuing to face the window.

“I just wanted you to know, what happened wasn't your fault,” he said.

“Scott, let’s go inside,” you shook your head, standing up.

He paused, looking at you before he nodded, walking out of the seat, you following him.

Everyone was pairing with someone else. Thankfully, you weren’t a student, leaving you to have a room by yourself. Allison and Lydia were staying with each other, Scott and Stiles, Boyd, and Isaac. There was no point in causing a fuss.

You shivered slightly, rubbing your arms as you grabbed a key from Coach, making your way to your room.

“(Y/N),” you turned to Scott, he and Stiles motioned for you to come to their room.

You nodded your head, dropping your bag into your room before going to theirs.

“What is it?” you asked.

Your voice was lower than usual, they didn't question it.

“Four suspects,” Stiles began, laying down on the bed.

“Four suspects? Already?” Scott gasped.

“For what?” you asked, slightly confused as you raised an eyebrow.

“For who’s doing these sacrifices. I had five, but then I realized I had Derek on there twice,” Stiles said.

You tensed up, blinking your eyes.

“He died,” you replied.

“But did he?” Stiles pointed out.

Unbelievable

Scott’s eyes went wide, giving Stiles a look.

“I gotta go,” you wiped your face, opening the door.

“Wait, (Y/N),” Stiles began.

“Stiles, he died to keep us safe. Are you really suggesting he’s going around and killing innocent people?” you could feel your heart banging in your chest as you slowed your breath, looking at Stiles.

“No, it’s just,” Stiles started, although you knew he had no actual reason. You would never be able to understand what happened between the two of them.

“I’m going,” you ran your fingers through your hair, closing the door as you walked out, spotting Boyd walking down the stairs.

You sighed, walking to your room. What you’d do to go home.

---

After making sure everyone was in their rooms, you locked your door, pulling out one of your grimoires from your bag, sitting on your bed.

There has to be something about bringing people back.

If Derek came back, everything would be better, everyone would be better. It would take the pain away.

You just wanted it to be over. You were tired, you knew it. It was a shock that you held on this long, but you couldn't do it anymore. You didn't want to do it anymore. You could feel yourself suffocating as you sat there.

Your mind drifted off, zoning out as you felt tears rush to your eyes.

What is the matter with you?

“God,” you exhaled shakily, standing up. Maybe you just needed some air.

You could feel shivers going down your spine as you walked out of your room, facing towards the empty view. Nothing but darkness outside of the motel. It was quiet, almost too quiet. 

You took a deep breath, deciding to go back into your room, attempting to look for a spell or a potion or something. You needed something, anything.

---

Reductione animalibus

You read the name of the spell, pausing on it. This was for animals, not werewolves.

You let out a frustrated scream as you sat on the ground, holding the ancient book as you continued to flip through it.

You threw your book across the room, running your fingers through your hair, cursing yourself for not bringing more of your grimoires with you.

Maybe you needed a break, you just needed to rest for a minute.

You felt a cold air behind you, as you turned around, freezing as your eyes went wide.

“Derek?”

You immediately jumped up, backing away from him. 

His clothes were ripped, covered in blood. His skin was pale, like a ghost.

“I’m hallucinating. God, I’m going crazy,” you shook your head, keeping your distance.

“Are you seriously thinking about resting?” he asked.

“W-What?” you said softly, looking at him as your eyes softened.

“I mean, you got me killed. The least you can do is find a way to bring me back,” he shrugged as he began walking around your room, while you stepped back, stopping as you hit the wall.

“I didn't mean to,” you began.

“You never mean to do anything, (Y/N), that’s the problem with you,” it felt like someone stabbed your heart as your eyes watered, looking at Derek.

“Derek, no, it’s just,” you knew he was right, you didn't have the word to defend yourself.

“There’s no point in explaining yourself. The damage is done, I’m dead,” he began walking to you, as you looked down, feeling tears stream down your face.

“I’ll find a way to save you. I’ll find a way to bring you back,” you sniffled.

“You already know that there are no spells that can bring someone back. Except for one,” he said, crossing his arms as he handed you the grimoire, opening it up to a page.

Alterum immolare

“B-But this won't…” you started.

“Oh, come on. Think about it. Think about what you did,” he said.

Sacrifice yourself for Derek. To bring him back, to save him from whatever supernatural hell he was in.

“You killed me. Peter lost his only nephew. Cora lost her only family. Isaac and Boyd lost their alpha. To save you. You don’t deserve this!” he slammed his wrist on the wall next to your head, as you gasped loudly.

He was right, you knew he was right. You tried to hold back a sob, failing as you closed your eyes, crying softly as you slid down the wall, falling to the ground.

You opened your eyes, seeing the room empty around you. He wasn’t there. He was gone.

---

You let out a shaky breath, leaning against the door, making sure it was closed as you took your knife out of your bag, gripping it tightly.

“Animam hanc alteram sacrificabimus,” your eyes glowed purple as you read the spell, feeling your heartbeat in the back of your head, vision blurry as you looked at the book.

You took a breath, closing your eyes as you positioned the tip of your blade over your heart.

It’s better for everyone

You could feel the slight sting of the tip of the blade against your chest, as you counted down in your head.

Three, two, one

“(Y/N)!” you jumped slightly, hearing Stiles as he banged at your door.

A tear fell from your face as you ignored it, holding the blade up once again.

Before you could push it in, burying it into your chest, the door broke down, Stiles tackling you to the ground.

“Stiles!” you screamed at him.

“(Y/N), no! Stop!” he yelled, pushing your arms down as he sat on top of you.

“Dis,” he groaned, getting pushed off you as you stood up, holding the knife.

“Sorry about this,” Stiles ran to you, pushing you against the heater as you screamed out in pain, getting burned.

You let out a breath, dropping the knife as you looked at Stiles.

What the hell just happened? 

He wrapped his arms around you tightly, as you hugged him back, slightly out of it as you closed your eyes, sniffling, feeling tears rush from your face.

---

“So, it’s a sacrifice?” you asked, running down the stairs behind Stiles.

“Yeah, at first I thought it was just three werewolves but I guess it’s just the supernatural in general,” Stiles replied, taking deep breaths.

“Wait, then what about Lydia?” you asked.

“I don’t know,” he said.

The two of you ran to the bus, Allison, and Lydia close behind you. 

“We need to get the last match from the bus and find Scott,” Stiles ran to the bus, as you heard a slight noise, turning around as you froze.

“S-Stiles,” you whispered.

“Oh my god,” you heard Allison gasp.

Scott stood in front of you four, holding the match, covered in gasoline. You saw the pain on his face, his eyes were bloodshot with tears in them.

“S-Scott,” you heard Allison say softly, slowly approaching Scott.

“There’s no hope,” Scott’s voice was barely above a whisper.

“W-What are you talking about? T-There’s always hope,” Allison stuttered.

You stayed frozen, feeling pain rush to your chest as you looked at Scott.

“Not for me. Not for Derek,” Scott looked down, avoiding looking at any of you.

“Derek wasn’t your fault,” your voice was shaky as you took a step forward.

“Every time I fight back, it just gets worse and people get hurt. People die,” he sniffled.

“Scott, listen. This isn’t you, alright? This is someone inside your head telling you to do this. Okay? Just,” you could hear the pain in Stiles’ voice as tears welled up in his eyes.

“What if there isn't? What if it’s just me? What if doing this is actually the best thing I could do for everyone else?” Tears welled in your eyes as you heard Scott’s shaky voice.

“It all started the night I got bitten. Remember how it was? I was nothing. I was no one. I wasn't popular, o-or good at lacrosse. I wasn’t important. Maybe I should be no one again,” Scott cried, gripping onto the match.

“S-Scott, listen to me, okay?” you held Stiles’ hand, as the two of you stepped forward, walking to Scott.

“Y-You’re not no one. You’re…” you heard Stiles pause, taking a breath.

“Scott, you’re our best friend. We need you. S-Scott, you’re my family,” your voice broke as a tear fell to the ground.

“You're all I have left, Scott,” you cried.

“You’re my brother, Scott. Please. I-If you’re gonna do this,” the two of you stepped into the gasoline, 

“I-If you’re gonna do this, then you’ll j-just have to take us with you,” you held his hand, pulling the match out of it.

He began to cry, as his tears fell freely. You threw it away from the three of you, as tears fell down your face. You wrapped your arms around Scott and Stiles, as you heard Scott cry.

You heard him struggle for breath.

“It’s us three, Scott. Always and forever,” Stiles held onto the two of you.

“No!” you heard Lydia scream, as she pushed you, Scott, and Stiles to the side, just on time, as the match blew into the gasoline, setting it on fire.

---

You looked at the pack, who were all currently asleep on the bus. You agreed that it would be best for all of you. But you couldn’t sleep. You looked at the pack, you looked at your family, taking a deep breath as you stepped off the bus.

You leaned against the side, looking forward at the motel, getting lost in your thoughts.

“(Y/N),” you looked up at Stiles walking in front of you.

“Hey,” you said softly.

“Can’t sleep either?” he asked, standing next to you.

You nodded softly, as the two of you sat on the ground, leaning against the bus.

“I’m sorry about… well all of it,” you said softly.

“I’m sorry for not checking up on you,” he said.

“I’m fine,” you shook your head.

“I know you’re not, (Y/N), you don’t have to lie to me,” he said.

“The last time we had a conversation, we were fighting. He said he loved me, and I didn't say it back,” you bit your lip, holding back a cry.

“I was just so mad at him. I never got to tell him how much I loved him. How much he meant to me. I can’t… it’s too late,” you ran your hand through your hair as you sniffled.

“(Y/N), he knows you love him. The two of you are… the two of you were meant to be together. I’ve never seen you so happy with someone. He loved you and you loved him,” Stiles said softly as he wrapped his arm around his shoulder.

“Stiles, you don’t... T-These past few days… all I’ve been doing is getting mad at him. We’ve been fighting. S-So much and it's all my fault,” you closed your eyes.

“It’s not your fault. The more you yell at each other the more you know that it's right,” Stiles said.

“God, when did you get good at advice?” you laughed softly.

“I’ve always been good at this. Learned from the best,” he said, looking at you.

You scoffed, leaning on his shoulder.

“Thanks for being there for me, Stiles. Through everything,” you said softly.

“You’re always here for me, even when it's hard. I mean, you'd believe me when no one else does. I’m not ever going to leave you, (Y/N),” he said.

You kissed his forehead softly, as the two of you held onto each other, closing your eyes.

“Thanks for saving me,” you whispered.

“Anything for you.”

---

“I don't want to know. I really don’t want to know,” you jumped up, opening your eyes as you heard Coach’s voice.

“You probably missed the announcement. Meet’s canceled, we’re going home.”

You stretched your arms, yawning as you sat next to Stiles. You frowned as Ethan sat next to Scott.

“So, I’m not sure what happened last night, but I’m pretty sure you saved my life,” Ethan said, looking at Scott.

“Actually that was me,” Stiles interrupted.

You smiled softly, patting Stiles’ back as he sat down.

“I know,” you said.

“Yeah, it was me,” he said.

“Yeah, just shh,” you said softly.

“I’ll give you a piece of information,” you and Stiles leaned forward.

“We’re pretty sure Derek’s still alive,” you tensed as you heard Derek’s name.

“W-What?” you said.

“But, that means one of two things. He killed Ennis, so either he’ll have to join our pack, or Kali will kill him,” Ethan said.

“Are you… this bus needs to leave, like now,” you said, standing up.

“Wait, how do you know he’s alive?” Stiles stopped you.

“We all saw him fall and die next to Ennis, but when we got there, he was gone and Ennis was still there,” Ethan explained.

“Oh god,” you took a deep breath, looking at Stiles.

“Just breathe,” Stiles said to you.

“Yeah, totally. God, this bus could not possibly go any slower,” you said.

Stiles scoffed.

“Calm down, let’s just get home,” you nodded your head, as your leg bounced.

This was going to be a long ride home.

---

“Isaac, I’m going to Derek’s loft,” you said, running out of the bus as he ran behind you.

“Okay, I’ll ask Scott to drop me home,” he nodded.

“Catch,” you threw your apartment key to him, running to your car and driving away.

---

“Cora!” you yelled, running into the loft.

“Cora!” you yelled again, stopping as Derek stood in front of you.

“(Y/N),” he said softly.

“Oh my god. Derek?” you said softly.

“W-What are you doing here?” he stood in front of you, shirtless.

“I-I… I’m so happy you’re alive. I-I thought you were dead. A-And you’re here and you’re real, and n-not a hallucination,” you laughed as you walked to him.

“I have to tell you, I love you. I love you so much and I’m sorry I didn’t say it before,” you said softly.

“(Y/N),” he started, looking down at you.

“Derek? Where did you go?” you froze as you saw another lady walk down the stairs, recognizing her from school. She was Stiles’ teacher.

“Derek…” you said softly, not wanting to connect the pieces as your eyes looked between the two of them.

You could feel your heart shattering as you took a step back from Derek.

“Y-You didn’t…” you couldn't finish your sentence, knowing the obvious.

Derek looked at you, sighing before he looked down.

Part of you wanted him to deny it. But he didn't. He stood in front of you, as she gave you a look.

“Derek, tell me you didn’t...” your voice broke as you looked at him.

“I think you should go home,” he said, avoiding eye contact with you.

You could feel your heart breaking, exploding as your vision blurred, holding in a cry. You stumbled backward, running out of the loft, running to your car as you sat in it, frozen. 

You let out a loud sob, letting all your pain out, screaming as you cried.

You thought he was dead. You loved him and thought he loved you too. But now it was all over.

[fandom-hoarder]

Thank you for the tag @venhedish! Finally getting to this <3

nickname: so I’ve been avoiding putting a nickname on here for reasons, but I’ve been annoyed at myself about it cuz it’s not like i don’t have it on lj. I refer to myself as lg (as in saying the letters L-G) but obv I’m not ladygizarme here, and fh or hoarder just doesn’t ring right.

All this to say: crys. My nickname is crys (pronounced “chris”)

zodiac: aquarius sun, libra moon, scorpio ascendant

height: 5’1 (but people have a habit of forgetting that)

last movie I saw: 101 Dalmatians (1961)

last thing I googled: “stream osmosis jones”

favourite musician: how am I supposed to pick just one? I guess the beatles really have been a huge influence, even before I “discovered” them, and when I have to list a fav it’s them, even if I haven’t really been listening to them this year. My 14 y/o self’s love of the beatles, nirvana, green day, and korn has shaped a lot of my personal taste, as have sublime, evanescence, disturbed, no doubt, garbage, jewel, linkin park… basically alt-rock/nu-metal from the 2000s as a base. MCR. Uh, and don’t forget queen and the cure and aerosmith and led zepellin and metallica.

All of which makes me sound like I only like older music but lol I love a lot of new music/artists! I just don’t necessarily have a fav rn. Choosing favs is difficult for me obv.

song stuck in my head: Imaginary by Evanescence

other blogs: none

blogs following: I’m following close to 300 and I have slightly less than that following me (holy shit, hello everyone, welcome! I think most of you are not porn bots <3)

amount of sleep: typically 6-9 unless I’m having insomnia, and 10-14 on Sundays; this year has been mostly good for sleep and about 150% better than my sleep record at this point last year

lucky number: 3

what am I wearing: black stretchy capris, grey cami, red/blue/white/yellow tartan plaid flannel

dream job: ostensibly I want to be a big published author, but really I don’t have enough schmoozing will in me to get big enough for that. (also that would require me to actually work on my original stuff instead of fanfiction, which I’m just not feeling rn lol; I might accidentally project sam and dean onto my protagonists)

I wanna get paid to live and be creative however I want >_>  

Basically I want that composer/patron relationship you always see reblogged about Tchaikovsky and von Meck.

languages: just English 😫

play an instrument: I can sort of play piano. I am severely out of practice and feel like an introductory student when I try to read music.

favourite song: lmao ok I was trying to decide what my current fav song is between what’s been on repeat, but NO. I told myself this is what I always need to reply with and dammit I’m gonna:

“You Know My Name (Look Up The Number)” by The Beatles

random fact: I love cilantro. I call it my mistress.

Tagging: @fandomgirl667 @cordellwinchesterwalker @amill22 @sweetaspiesammy @tasteslikemolecules

+ anyone reading this that wants to, I tag you!

[myriadimagines]

Okay hi Sam, congrats again for 9k!! I'm terrible with requesting anything ever and gaaahh even when you're my friend I'm nervoussss because I'm just fearing I screw up. But maybe now when I don't have to make up any plot I could request?? But I requested an ID card from musicallisto too so you got this Jen... sooo could I get a ship drabble thing for The Maze Runner with prompt 32? (I literally just stuck my finger on random prompt BECAUSE I CAN'T CHOOSE MYSELF THEY ALL ARE SO GOOD) (1/7)

So for the apperance: I'm 5"8 girl, she/her. I have short, black pixie hair (my own hair color is brown), light skin and blue eyes with long eyelashes. I don't use makeup very often but sometimes I like to make myself pretty, usually if there's a birthday party or if I'm just bored. I usually wear t-shirts and jeans (long, capris or shorts depending on season). 2/7

Personality: I'm INFP-T Hufflepuff and very shy and timid with strangers, and I don't like big groups. At big parties you probably find me frozen against the wall and not moving. But with friends I'm very loud and make a lot of bawdy jokes. My friends say I'm loyal and kind. Despite that, I can be quite a hothead and it shows especially if I'm provoked by wrong people. 3/7

I also am very protective of my friends, going as far as cutting ties with people if they are mean to my friends (even if they haven't done anything for me personally). I've been told I'm like a lion protecting its pack in those situations. But if I have to deal with such situations myself (that people are mean to me) I'm incapable to survive from it without help, because I'm just blurting random things out if I'm angry at someone and I haven't learned to control it yet. 4/7

It often leads to people finding me childish when fighting. I find it difficult to talk verbally and I'm just awkward if I have to actually use my words. My hobbies include writing, learning to read more books, learning to play piano (I'm not very good with it yet though), play video + board games, taking long walks to the forest, fangirling and just clowning around. I want to be a crazy guinea pig lady when I'm old. 5/7

And for sexuality: I don't know my sexuality yet (I recently got to know there's a term called fictosexual though which means having sexual attraction for fictional characters), but I've been crushing on guys more than girls in fictional worlds. I've never dated anyone irl but I haven't really been wanting to date anyone as fictional characters have been enough for me as for now. But both genders are cool!! 6/7

Characters: Reader x Newt

Warnings: alcohol

Prompt: 32. “Oh God… I think I’m in love with you.”

Word Count: 475

A/N: thank u so much jenni!!! also u didnt screw this up at all and i’m super glad to hear u liked the prompt list :’) i debated between thomas and newt but decided to go with newt, i hope u like it!! 💕

NOT TAKING ANYMORE REQUESTS!

“Didn’t fancy on joining in on the celebrations?” Newt asks as he approaches you. He holds a mug out to you, and you wrinkle your nose, already knowing the disgusting alcohol concoction inside, but you take the cup anyway. He sits beside you, and you try to ignore how close his leg is to yours as he continues, “I have a good feeling about the new Greenie. I quite like him.”

Both you and Newt look over to the bonfire, where you can see Thomas a short distance away, getting to know the other Gladers. He looks disoriented, and understandably so — you remember how lost you felt upon entering the Glade for the first time.

The both of you turn away from the scene, falling silent as you listen to your fellow Gladers loudly cheering and jostling one another, enjoying the festivities. You enjoy Newt’s quiet company far more than the wild party raging on behind you, and you’re grateful for his calming presence. He takes a sip from his drink, wrinkling his nose at it slightly before he remarks, “Do you remember your first day?”

You gulp. It comes to you in your nightmares, the flashing lights, the loud mechanic sounds of the elevator. You slowly nod, and Newt chews his lip, “Yeah, me too. Was ages ago, but I still remember it like yesterday.”

“Do you think we’ll ever leave this place?” you blurt, and Newt falls silent, leaving you feeling miserably uneasy. Your shoulders slump, knowing the answer to your own question, and you let out a sad laugh as you remark, “I shouldn’t talk about this. We’re supposed to be partying.”

Newt doesn’t respond again, before he lets out a heavy sigh. He turns to face you, and you feel your cheeks getting flushed under his intense gaze as he tells you, “Look, I know it’s easy to feel hopeless about this whole situation, but we’ll be alright. We’ve got each other, yeah?”

You know Newt’s referring to the entire Glade, but you can’t help but think about just the two of you in this private moment. Newt’s always had that effect on you, making you feel as if you’re the only two people who matter, and you find yourself at loss for words before you suddenly confess, “Oh God… I think I’m in love with you.”

Newt blinks at you in surprise as you quickly clasp a hand over your mouth, but he quickly laughs to ease the tension. Gesturing to your cup, he teases, “I see the drink has gotten to you.”

You snort, quickly downing some, as if trying to wash the words out of your mouth. But Newt leans his leg up against yours as he takes a sip from his own drink, and you can see him smile out of your corner of your eye.

[hopelikethemoon]

Movie Night (Javier x Reader) {MTMF}

Title: Movie Night Rating: PG-13  Length: 2900 Warnings: Slight voyeurism, light smut (teasing in public).  Notes: You can find everything about Maybe Today, Maybe Forever here. Set January 1999. Two days without MTMF, did you miss me? I’ve been working on this over the past two days, trying to get my desire to write back after the unpleasantness.  Summary: Family movie night is always an event. 

@grapemama​​​ @seawhisperer​​​ @huliabitch​​​ @beccaplaying​​​ @thewallpapergoesorido​​​ @twomoonstwosuns​​​ @gooddaykate​​​ @livasaurasrex​​​ @ham4arrow​​​ @plexflexico​​ @readsalot73​​​ @hdlynn​​​ @lokiaddicted​​​ @randomness501​​​ @fioccodineveautunnale​​​  @roxypeanut​ @snivellusim​​​ @lukesrighthand​​​ @historynerd04 @mrsparknuts​​​@ ​​​​​@awesomefandomsunited​​​​​​​​ @behindmyeyes-insidemyhead​​ @exrebelshocktrooper​​​ @synystersilenceinblacknwhite​​​ @ah-callie​​​ @swhiskeys​​​ @exrebelshocktrooper​​​ @u-wakatoshii @space-floozy​​ @cable-kenobi @cool-ultra-nerd @himbopoes​​​ @findhimfives​​​ @pedrosdoll​​​ @frietiemeloen​​ @arrowswithwifi​​​ @random066​​​ @uncomicalhumour​​​ @heather-lynn​ @domino-oh-damn @cyarikaaa​​​ @ahopelessromanticwritersworld​​​ @im-still-a-pieceofgarbage @ksgeekgirl​​ @yabby-girl​ @xqueenofthecraziesx​​ @punkass-potato​​ @coredrive​​ @pascalesque​​ @theduchessofkirkcaldy​​ @queenquazar​​​ @sabinemorans​​​ @buckstaposition​​​ @holkaskrosnou​​​ @yespolkadotkitty​​​@seeking-a-great–perhaps @kochamcie​​​ @jaime1110​​​ @katlikeme​​​

After the girls had gotten their fill of watching Mulan for the dozenth time, you and Steve helped them set up a pillow fort in the middle of the family room floor, while Javier, Monica, and Nadia ran a relay team on bringing popcorn and Capri Sun out to keep them occupied while the six of you tried to enjoy The Mask of Zorro. 

“I wanted sweet popcorn.” Josie huffed a little, but shoveled a handful of popcorn into her mouth, before retreating back into the pillow fort with Olivia and a full bowl of popcorn. 

“Please don’t let Sofía eat any.” You warned.

Olivia poked her head out, “Sofía is sleeping.” She told you as she shushed you. 

“Hey, no.” Steve shook his head. 

“It’s fine,” You assured him before turning towards Javier as he returned with two glasses of wine and a bottle tucked under his arm. “Classy.”

He winked at you, “Figured we could do something different for movie night.”

You took your glass from him and took a sip, “You read my mind.” You took the bottle from him, sitting it down on the coffee table beside your glass of wine. “Girls, do you have everything you need?”

“Yes!” They called back.

“I finally got the movie rewound,” Connie announced as she flopped down onto the opposite side of the sofa, beckoning Steve to her. 

“Has no one ever heard ‘be kind, rewind’?” Steve chuckled as he sank down beside her and stretched his legs out to rest his feet on the coffee table. 

“I don’t get why Blockbuster doesn’t just check every VHS,” Nadia pointed as she joined Monica on the armchair, “I kinda hope one day there’s an easier way to watch a movie.” 

Monica popped a piece of popcorn into her mouth, “You mean like your crazy idea for being able to watch movies at home with the touch of a button?”

“It’s not that crazy,” Nadia protested, nodding her head towards Javier. “He agreed with me.”

“Yeah,” Javier said as he sat down beside you. “Picture it — any movie you want, right on your TV.” He draped his arm around you.

You grabbed the blanket off the back of the sofa, pulling it over your lap and curling up beneath it and leaning into Javier’s side.

“I dunno, Peña.” Steve hummed thoughtfully. “Seems like it might require a lot of storage.” 

“It could work.” Javier picked up the edge of the blanket, situating it so it was over both of your laps. “You know,” He said to you. “I realized why you wanted to see this movie.”

“Oh?” You smirked at him, pulling your arm out from beneath the blanket to play your fingers through his hair. 

“Antonio.” He arched a brow at you.

You scrunched up your nose, “Like you don’t love Catherine Zeta-Jones.” You teased, tugging at his hair before you leaned forward to grab your glass of wine, taking a sip. 

Monica arched a brow, “I can see that.”

“Right?” You laughed, settling back into Javier’s side, sliding your arm behind him. “Steve, who’s on your list?”

“My what?”

“Your freebie.” You laughed, enjoying the brief look of panic on his face as he looked towards Connie. “You know, who would you get a freebie with if the opportunity arose?”

“Uh,” Steve scratched behind his ear. “I don’t know—“

Connie interrupted her, “Mine is definitely Harrison Ford. Though, Bruce Willis has a certain appeal too.”

“Does everyone have a list?” Steve looked towards Monica and Nadia. 

Monica shrugged, “It would be a fight over Kate Winslet or Winona Ryder.” 

Nadia popped a handful of popcorn into her mouth, “Definitely Winona.”

Steve gave you a weary list, “What the f-u-c-k?”

You couldn’t help but laugh, “Sorry?”

He raked his hand over his face, sighing heavily as he looked towards Connie, “Michelle Pfeiffer, I guess.”

“Really?” She hummed thoughtfully. “I guess I can see that.” Connie looked towards you then, “I thought you had a thing for George Clooney?”

“I go through phases.”

Javier squeezed your thigh under the blanket, “Let’s not forget your Kevin Costner phase. I don’t know how many times we’ve watched Robin Hood.”

“I cannot tell a lie, my taste varies.” You leaned your head against his shoulder, pressing your thigh against his beneath the cover. “You also love what’s her face from Jurassic Park.”

“Who?” Steve questioned.

Monica perked up, “Laura Dern?”

“Yeah! Her.” You nodded, nudging Javier in the ribs.

Javier shrugged, “I came for the dinosaurs and stayed for Dr. Sattler.” 

“Now that we’ve gone down that path, how about we start the movie?” Connie suggested as she picked up the remote and hit play. 

“For the record,” You interjected. “Sam Neill could get it.”

“Yes!” Connie agreed with a laugh as she grinned at you. 

Steve and Javier exchanged looks and you couldn’t help but roll your eyes. 

You pulled the blanket up around your arms as you shifted beside him. Javier wrapped his arm around your shoulders, maneuvering you so your head was resting against his chest more comfortably. 

“You should grow your hair out again,” You told Javier as you tilted your head to look at him, before looking between him and the TV screen. 

“And look like a prisoner?” His brows rose upwards as he looked down at you, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. 

You reached up and brushed your fingers over the hair that fell against his forehead, “I like the unkempt look.” You ran your hand over his chest as you leaned in to kiss him. 

He brushed his nose against yours as he drew back from the kiss, “Summer isn’t too far away, baby.”

“It’s January.” You laughed softly, shaking your head as you dragged your fingers through his too-short hair. “I guess I’ll just have to get my fill of unkempt from Zorro.” You sighed dramatically before turning your gaze back to the screen — watching as Alejandro and Joaquin got out of their predicament. 

Javier’s hand idly stroked your bare leg beneath the blanket, his touch warming you far better than even the blanket had. 

Chewing on your bottom lip, you tilt your head just enough to catch Javier’s gaze. He canted his head to the left, a brow arching upwards curiously as his fingers trailed along your inner thigh, rising up to skim just beneath the bottom of your shorts. 

Oh.

You punctuated your nod with a quick kiss, before turning back to watch the TV, just in time to watch Joaquin meet his early demise. 

You shifted beneath the blanket, letting your legs part far enough to accommodate Javi’s wandering hand. His touches were teasing — his fingers skimmed up your inner thigh, barely brushing over the crotch of your underwear, before retreating back down your thigh. 

It made concentrating on the movie a little more difficult. 

And no one was aware. You glanced towards Monica and Nadia — both of whom were staring at the screen and eating popcorn. Steve and Connie were whispering to each other, their gaze fixed on the screen too. 

You leaned forward to pick up your wine glass and your own bowl of popcorn. You took a sip of wine, sitting the bowl down on the blanket where your leg was pressed against Javier’s. “You want your wine?” 

“Yeah, baby.” Javier pulled his hand out from under the blanket and dragged his fingers through his hair. 

You took another sip before sitting your glass back down and picking up his. Javier brushed his fingers against yours as he took the glass from you, a smirk playing over his lips as he met your eyes over the rim of the wine glass as he took a sip. 

Both of you managed to behave yourselves as the movie progressed — right up until the scene between Elena and Zorro in the confessional. 

Your hand slid back beneath the blanket, watching him out of the corner of your eye as your fingers ghosted over his cock through the heavy fabric of his jeans. 

His ring clinked against the side of the Corelle bowl holding the popcorn between your laps and you froze. No one else seemed to notice — too focused on the film, as Love pursued Zorro. If they had noticed, Javier played it off like he was sitting the popcorn aside on the arm of the sofa. 

He relaxed back against the cushion, exhaling slowly as he gave a short nod of his head. Neither of you were bold enough to do much more than grope each other — not when everyone and the children were right there, but the thrill was there nevertheless. 

You bit down on your bottom lip, your eyes fixed on the TV as you cupped him more intentionally, rubbing your thumb down the length of him. His jeans kept him confined, but you could still feel the way he hardened beneath your touch. 

Javier cleared his throat, using that as an excuse to unwind his arm from around you and tuck it under the blanket. He slid his arm beneath yours, his hand grabbing at your thigh possessively. 

“Can we pause real quick?” Monica interjected, “I need to use the restroom.”

“Yeah,” You sat up a little straighter then, “Connie do you still have the remote?”

“Yep!” Connie fumbled for it on the sofa, before hitting pause. 

Javier reached for the bowl of popcorn again, sitting it on his lap as he grabbed a few pieces and popped them into his mouth, giving you a sideways look. 

“I think I’m going to go put Sofía down,” You announced as you rose to your feet, stretching your arms above your head. 

You glanced back at Javier, watching the way he was watching you. You knelt down to peel Sofía out from the pillow fort, laughing at the mess the girls had managed to make with the popcorn — kernels and pieces of popcorn strewn across the floor.

Josie whispered to you, “We were feeding Bruno.” She pointed to her Beanie Baby. 

“You’re lucky I’m in a good mood,” You teased her, cradling Sofía to your chest as you stood back up. “Hey Javi, do you mind helping me with Sofía?”

You weren’t sure you had ever seen Javier move as swiftly as he did. He was up and off the sofa, following you down the hallway to the nursery. 

“I haven’t seen you move like that since 1987.” You taunted as you bounced Sofía in your arms, turning back to look at him as he lingered in the threshold. 

Javier snorted, “What can I say, baby? I’ve been incentivized.” He dragged his fingers through his hair as he leaned against the doorframe. 

You smirked, “We didn’t even make it to the kiss.” 

Javier rubbed at the side of his neck as he stepped further into the room. “It’s not like we don’t know what happens.” You pointed out as you settled your daughter into her crib. “We need to do another movie night. Just the two of us.” 

He nodded his head slowly, “That new Star Wars film is out in a couple months.” 

“May, right?” You questioned as you leaned down to kiss Sofia’s head, before walking away from the bed. “Is this a date, Javi?”

Javier clicked his tongue against his teeth, “I’ll never stop dating you, baby.” He told you as you approached him. 

“What a sap,” You scrunched up your nose and rolled your eyes as you reached out and draped your arms over his shoulders. “Have you always been this much of a sap?”

He rocked his jaw as he stared down at you, “Back in the 80s, I met someone who turned me into a sap.”

You snapped your fingers, “I bet it was that fucking Murphy character.” 

Javier chuckled, “Bingo.” He ran his hands along your waist as he leaned down to kiss you, a slow kiss that only served to stoke the fire you felt in your veins. 

A soft moan escaped you as your lips parted against his, your fingers winding through the hair at the nape of his neck. 

He squeezed your hip, “We should go back out there.”

You nodded, brushing your nose against his. “As soon as they’re gone…” Your brows rose upwards and you caught his bottom lip between your teeth. 

Javier pulled you towards him abruptly, your chests pressed together. “I’m counting the minutes, baby.” He assured you as he kissed you again, his tongue invading your mouth — winding you up, only to abandon you. 

You trailed after him down the hallway, grabbing his ass before you stepped around him and his scandalized expression, as you made your way back to the sofa. You grabbed your wine glass, finishing off the last of it. 

“Did she go down easily?” Connie questioned as she tucked her legs beneath her. 

“Surprisingly easy.” You nodded, rubbing your thumb over your bottom lip as you glanced over the back of the sofa at Javier. 

“Olivia had to go potty.” She explained, pulling your attention back to her. “Steve’s handling it.”

Javier settled back down on the sofa beside you, stretching his legs out and propping them up on the coffee table in front of him. “Should’ve known they’d need a potty break.” 

Monica laughed, “And here I thought you two were going to have your own bathroom break.” 

“Yeah, yeah, yeah.” You rolled your eyes and flipped her off with a grin as you shifted so you were laying across his lap with your head propped up on the arm of the sofa. “We are capable of behaving. Shocking as it might be.”

“Barely,” Javier admitted, stroking his fingers over your hair as he looked down at you with a smirk before turning his attention back to Monica. “You enjoying the film?” 

Monica shrugged, “It’s not a masterpiece, but it’s enjoyable.”

You feigned offense, “Sacrilege. The Murphys are your parents now.”

“Rude!” She gave a look. “Did I criticize your taste in men? Because I could go there if you’d like me to.”

“Javier is sitting right here.” You laughed, turning to look up at him with a grin. 

“Exactly,” Monica shook her head. “I’m just saying, your taste is suspect. I respect it but…” 

You shrugged, “I didn’t choose to fall in love with a man who still dresses like it’s the seventies, but I’ve come to terms with that.”

“Baby… Shots fired.” Javier pursed his lips as he looked down at you. 

“Are we roasting, Javier?” Steve questioned as he returned to the family room, sending Olivia back into the blanket fortress. “Because there’s a grill out back we can roast him on.”

“If you bring up the fucking burnt burgers—“

“Daddy!” Josie popped her head out. “You said a naughty word.”

“JoJo, not now.”

“Mommy, he said a bad word!”

You started laughing and quickly it spiraled out of control to the point that you were laughing so hard you ended up crying. 

“You better believe I’m going to bring up burnt burgers,” Steve continued. “How the hell-“

“Daddy!” Olivia popped her head out of the fort beside Josie. 

“Stephen.” Connie scolded him. 

You started laughing even harder, sitting up and coughing as you tried to catch your breath. “I’m wheezing.”

“Baby, it’s not that funny.” Javier complained, but that barely deterred him. “You’ve got a lot of balls bringing that up Murphy… Or, actually not, come to think of it.”

“Ouch, Peña.” Steve huffed. “That’s a below the belt jab.”

Javier rolled a shoulder, “Bringing up one grilling mistake for the rest of my life sure seems like a below the belt jab.” His brows rose upwards warningly. “At least I don’t still go duck hunting.”

“Says the man who enjoys going skeet shooting.” Steve shot back. 

“I enjoy skeet when the company’s not being a jackass.”

“Javier!” You slapped his thigh.

Josie seemed to have the answer for stopping the two grown children from fighting. She emerged from the blanket fort, hands on her hips and glared at Javier. 

“Fuck!”

Everyone stopped at that. 

“Josie!” You snapped. 

“Joséfina Selina Peña.” Javier hissed out.

“Finally some peas and quiet.” Josie sighed dramatically and retreated back into the fort. 

“Our daddies are such gophers.” Olivia said as she pulled the blanket entrance shut. 

“Gophers.” Monica parroted, which sent all of you back into a spiral of laughter. 

“More like whack-a-mole.” You pointed out with a snort as you grabbed for the remote. “We’ve got half a movie left to watch and one of the best kiss scenes in modern film. Less bickering, gentlemen.”

“We’re not bickering.” Javier insisted as he sank back down onto the sofa, dragging his fingers through his hair. “But you’re right about the kiss.”

“Thank you.” You winked at him. “Who doesn’t love a sexy sword fight followed by a different kind of sword fight.”

You hit the play button, tossing the remote aside as you settled in against Javier. “Doesn’t beat our kisses, though.” You assured him as you pressed a kiss to his cheek. 

He turned to grin at you, “Not even close.” Javier rested his hand on your thigh, rubbing his thumb against your skin. “I love you.” He whispered. 

You grinned to yourself. “I love you too.” You told him curling your arm around behind him as you settled your cheek against his shoulder.  

[prettybuckybaby]

in the flood you'll build an ark and sail us to the moon

The avengers meet Peter's daughter.

part three of single parent peter parker

masterlist

read on ao3 here

The Avengers don’t officially meet Leia until Saturday. They give Peter and Leia space on the Friday knowing how much Peter was, unsurprisingly, upset after the whole lockdown event on Thursday evening. Nobody really expected it to happen on Saturday, either, but Peter’s always thought that having children makes life unpredictable.

Leia and Peter are enjoying a lazy morning. They sleep in longer than they normally would, Peter managing to convince Leia to close her eyes for another hour or so when she storms into his room to wake him up. Peter is vaguely aware of Pepper knocking on his door at some point and opening it slightly, cooing when she sees the pair cuddled together. When they eventually surface, Peter smiles at the new photo of them pinned on the fridge, taken less than an hour ago, both of them smiling peacefully in their sleep.

The morning is one of domestic bliss. They make pancakes together in the kitchen, Leia eats most of the chocolate chips before Peter has a chance to put them in the batter. He pretends to be annoyed for all of thirty seconds before he laughs and kisses the top of her head as he fishes another packet out of the cupboard above her head.

Their peaceful morning-turned-afternoon is interrupted by Peter’s phone ringing just as they are settling down to watch a film. Peter laughs as Leia groans dramatically.

“Everything alright, Mr Stark?” Peter asks when he answers the phone. He frowns at the hesitation Tony takes.

“Pete, I’m sorry, but Fury’s called a meeting. I’ve tried my best to get you out of it, but he won’t listen,” Peter sighs heavily, rubbing his eyes. “Any chance you could pop down?”

“Yeah, just…just lemme find Miss Potts, see if she can watch Leia for a bit,” He frowns when he hears Tony suck in a breath.

“Sorry, Pete. Pep’s in a meeting. Some last-minute emergency in New Zealand,” Peter doesn’t say anything, but Tony hears him sigh down the line. “You okay, kid?”

“Yeah. Thinking.”

“You could just bring her along,” Tony suggests lightly. “It’ll probably only be quick. Nobody would mind at all,” He makes an apologetic sound. “Sorry for crashing your morning, kid,”

“No, no, it’s fine.” He sighs lightly. “Just gimme a few minutes to put some clothes on,” Tony snorts as he agrees and hangs up.

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

Twenty minutes later, Peter is entering conference room E. Everybody but Fury looks up when he enters, all offering their greetings. Fury only looks up from his papers when he speaks up.

“Parker. Lovely that you could grace us with your presence.” Tony’s lips quirk at the obvious fake smile that Peter flashes at Fury, snorting when it disappears the moment the director looks back down. Peter walks further into the room and the Avengers all smile when they notice Leia following, still in her Spider-man pyjamas, one hand holding Peter’s and the other holding on tightly to Bearbear. When the young girl notices Tony, she smiles brightly and lets go of her father’s hand, reaching out for the older man. Tony grins at her, lifting her up and spinning her around in his chair.

“Hello, sweetheart,” Even though Tony tries to keep his voice down, Fury’s head snaps up when he hears him talk. Peter sits down in the empty chair next to Tony, rolling his eyes when Fury speaks again.

“No. No children allowed. Absolutely not.”

“You heard the man, Peter,” Sam sighs dramatically from where he’s sat opposite Peter. He slides down far enough in his seat that he can kick Peter’s out from under the desk. “No children. You need to leave,” Bucky snorts from two seats across.

“Wha…hey!” Nearly everyone laughs at the annoyed look on Peter’s face. Fury just narrows his eyes. “No offense, Mr Fury, Sir, but you didn’t really give me enough notice to arrange a babysitter.”

“Not my issue, Parker. Out.” Fury demands simply, pointing to the door. Peter narrows his eyes, staring at him for a few long moments. He debates with himself whether annoying Fury more is worth it. He decides against it before he stands up, not caring when his chair falls over. Natasha covers her laugh with a cough.

“Fine. C’mere Leia,” The girl lifts her head from where she’s place it on Tony’s shoulder, her fingers messing up his hair. She moans, high and long, burying herself in Tony’s chest.

“Wanna stay with Uncle Mista Stark,” Peter shoots her an apologetic smile.

“Yeah, well, Mr Angry doesn’t want you with Uncle Mr Stark because he’s too busy being a big meanie,” He whispers, but his voice is loud enough that everyone in the room hears him clearly. Fury is growling when he replies.

“One peep out of her and she’s out, you hear me?” Peter doesn’t reply, just picks his chair up from the floor and sits down. He smiles when he sees Tony running his fingers through Leia’s hair. The man smirks at him when she starts falling asleep in his lap.

“She gets this from you, you know.” He lifts the fingers from her hair, immediately putting them back when she whimpers softly. “Does this send all Parkers to sleep? Or just the children?”

“STARK!” Peter smirks when Fury snaps.

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

Peter decides Tony is a stone-faced liar when Fury is still droaning on an hour and three quarters later. He’s fairly certain that Steve is the only one of them actually listening. If he didn’t know Natasha any better, he would think that she’s talking notes with how she’s writing and glancing up every so often. But he does know Natasha and knows for a fact that she’s actually editing Peter’s essay on Othello that is due in next week. Clint is watching Fury but clearly not paying attention, Tony is still carding his fingers through a sleeping Leia’s hair, and Bruce is face down on the table, possibly sleeping. Either side of Steve, Bucky and Sam are throwing things at each other, struggling to contain their laughter each time one of them hits Steve and he huffs.

Leia is just beginning to stir in Tony’s arms when Fury wraps up another forty-five minutes later, just as Peter starts to contemplate grabbing her from his mentor’s arms and making a run for it. She turns her head towards her and makes grabby hands as Fury picks up his papers, says “Dismissed.” and then walks right out of the room. He lets her crawl out of Tony’s arms and into his.

“Lunch time?” He asks quietly, smiling when she nods sleepily. “What are we fancying?”

“Mac’roni?” She asks quietly after thinking for a few moments. She giggles when Peter fakes a groan.

“Again? Are you sure?” She just keeps giggling as he stands up. He gets to the door before he hesitates and turns back towards his team. “You can join us if you…if you want to. I mean, you don’t have to, but I know you want to meet her properly and-”

“Breathe, kid,” Tony laughs as the other just smile at him. Peter sighs in relief when Clint grins at him.

“This macaroni any good?” Leia giggles again.

“Daddy makes the best mac’roni, mister,” She smiles sweetly, squirming until Peter puts her down.

“The best, huh?”

“In the whole world!” Leia promises, bouncing slightly on her feet.

“The whole world?” Natasha asks, mock dis-belief lacing her voice. “That’s a lot of macaroni you must have eaten,” Leia just smiles and nods before looking back up at her father. He grins down at her.

“C’mon then, munchkin. Let’s go and make some macaroni,” He holds the door open for Leia to leave the room, following close behind her. Before the door shuts, they can hear Leia convincing Peter to let her have ice cream after her pasta.

“You guys coming?” Tony asks, standing up and turning back towards them as he holds the door open.

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

By the time they make it up to the kitchen in the Penthouse, Peter is cooking, one pan filled with water just beginning to boil, a wooden spoon balancing on the lid of another. Leia is sitting on top of the glass kitchen table, legs crossed, drinking a capri sun.

“You’re not supposed to be up there, trouble,” Tony teases with a fake stern look. He lasts about thirty seconds, breaking when Leia just giggles at him.

“So now you have two kids you can’t stay mad at, huh, Stark?” Tony scowls as Bucky walks past him and lifts himself up onto the counter.

“That is not true.” He argues, glaring at the super soldier. The other man just raises a single eyebrow.

“It is so true!” Clint insists, pinching Leia’s cheek softly, grinning up at Natasha when the young girl giggles. Natasha smiles back before turning back to where she was looking at the fridge. She trails her fingers gently over the picture pinned next to the Iron Man colouring.

“No.” Tony’s scowl deepens. “Nope. Not true. I’ve never even met these brats. Kids. Yuck. I hate children. Sure am glad I don’t know any.” Tony’s façade begins to crack when Peter snorts, breaking completely when Leia bursts into a fit of giggles. He pokes her cheek gently, always gently. “You’ve blown my cover now. Now everyone is going to know that I have feelings!”

“Oh no!” Peter gasps in mock despair as he pours a whole box of macaroni into the pot of water. “Imagine. People no longer confusing you with a robot. The horror.” Tony scowls again.

“It’s official. Leia, you’re now my favourite kid. You’ve got the top spot. Congratulations! Parker, you’ve been bumped down. Shame.”

“As if she wasn’t your favourite anyway. I was replaced as soon as you set eyes on her. I can’t even be mad about it.” Peter sighs softly as he opens the fridge, holding two bags up for Leia to look at. “What sort of cheese do you want, Leia? Red or white?” She takes them both in her hands and looks between them for a moment, considering.

“Yes.” Leia eventually nods at her father. He rolls his eyes, soft smile painting his lips.

“Pick one, please, princess,” Leia frowns before Tony winks at her.

“The red, right, Leia?” He hands the bag of red shredded cheese to Peter. As soon as he turns away, he puts the other bag, the one half full of white shredded cheese, in the big pocket of Leia’s t-shirt, whispering something in her ear. Peter turns around when Leia giggles, narrowing his eyes.

“What are you doing?” Tony and Leia look up at him, identical smiles on their faces.

“Nothing, Daddy,” Peter scowls at Tony.

“You’re corrupting my daughter, Stark.” Leia giggles when Tony shrugs his shoulders. “Sweetheart, you wanna stir for a bit while I drain the pasta?” She nods enthusiastically, not stopping until Tony has picked her up and carried her over to the pans. Peter smiles as he hands over the wooden spoon before he picks up the other pan. Peter stands at the sink for a few moments, watching the scene, smiling when every few seconds Leia looks over Tony’s shoulder at him and giggles. Tony shushes her every time she does, which just makes her giggle harder. “How you doing, Leia?”

“Done, Daddy,” She says after Tony nods at her. Peter brings the now drained pot of pasta over, pouring the cheese sauce Leia has been stirring into it, before turning it into a baking dish. He smiles as Leia grabs a handful of cheese off the counter and sprinkles it over the top.

“Come and meet some people,” Peter says after he’s put the dish into the oven and set the timer. He narrows his eyes when he notices Leia’s hand in her pocket and Tony smiling innocently. “What are you up to?” She shakes her head but reaches out towards Peter, slapping his cheek the way she sometimes sees Tony do. He rolls his eyes when he hears Tony’s delighted laughter. They turn towards the others and Leia doesn’t even wait for Peter to introduce them, just smiles up at Steve, who is standing closest to them.

“Hello, Mr Cap ‘Merica,” Steve laughs softly as Sam snorts.

“Oh, my God, there’s two of them,” He whispers. He laughs when Peter narrows his eyes playfully.

“Sorry for teaching her manners, Mr Wilson,” Peter rolls his eyes. “If I ever have another child-”

“Mr Falcon!” Leia laughs and points at Sam, who just frowns as the others laugh at him. Peter smiles as he places Leia back on the table, leaving her to talk to the others. He sits and watches for a while before he checks on the macaroni. He decides the pasta needs a few more minutes and puts it back in the oven. He turns back around just in time to see Leia take her hand out of her pocket and hand something to Tony, and the man lift his own hand to his mouth. He clears his throat, pursing his lips when Leia looks up at him and blinks her eyes.

“Open your hands,” Leia frowns a little bit when she spreads her fingers wide. He narrows his eyes at the piece of cheese clinging to her skin. “Empty your pocket.”

“Kid,” Tony swallows and tries to interrupt, but Peter just ignores him.

“Empty. Now, please,” He doesn’t take his eyes off Leia, who just pouts when he doesn’t move. Her pout deepens when Peter cocks an eyebrow, and she pulls the bag of cheese out of and hands it up to him. “Thank you, Princess,” He takes the bag out of her hand and puts it back in the fridge. On his way, he whacks Tony over the head with the bag, snorting when Tony groans dramatically.

“Mad at me, Daddy?” Leia asks quietly when Peter sits down and doesn’t say anything. Peter sighs and takes her hands in his, squeezing gently.

“No, Sweetie. Daddy’s not mad. Well,” He pauses, smirking up at Tony slightly. “Maybe a little bit. But only at Mr Stark,” Leia frowns for a moment before she smiles and nods.

“Okay.” Tony snorts at her response.

“Thanks for the support, kiddo. Really appreciate it,” Peter smiles softly before pulling Leia onto his knees.

“You put more cheese in the sauce, huh?”

“Ruin it?” Leia’s eyes fill with tears as she speaks, not meeting Peter’s eyes. Peter coos and lifts her chin, making her look at him.

“No, baby. Do you want to know why?” Leia nods, letting Peter wipe away the single tear that has fallen. “Mr Stark is the smartest man I know. He’s cleverer than Dr Banner, and Dr Banner knows lots and lots about lots of different things, yeah? Mr Stark knows more than even him. Mr Stark is the cleverest man in the whole world, but here’s the thing, Leia. He’s not clever enough to realise how predicable he is,”

“Wha’s predict’ble?” She asks, eyes looking less red than they did moments ago.

“Means I know what he’s gonna do,”

“Because you’re cleverer than him.” She states as a fact, nodding her head. “I know that.”

“No,” Peter shakes his head. “Mr Stark is just a bit silly, sometimes, sweet. He always does the same thing with macaroni. Likes having two types of cheese in the sauce, just like you, and always tries to put more in. And he doesn’t think I notice when he’s whispering to you to put a handful in when Daddy’s not watching,” Peter laughs when Tony groans.

“Stupid super hearing,” He mumbles just as the alarm goes off. Peter ruffles Leia’s hair as he stands up and gets the macaroni out of the oven. He picks one of Leia’s plates out of the cupboard and, once it’s cooled some, spoons a bit of pasta onto it, and hands it to her.

“Thank you, Daddy,” She smiles when Peter sits down in front of her and takes a forkful of food from her plate.

“What? The rest of us don’t get table service?” Clint asks, huffing out a laugh when Peter rolls his eyes.

“Sure,” He offers, not looking up at him. “Soon as you start wearing Spider-man pyjamas and letting me do your hair, Mr Clint. Helps if you love me, as well,” Peter laughs when Clint clears his throat and pouts at him, fluttering his eyelashes.

“Love you, Peter,”

“Nice try, Barton,” Natasha smiles when Peter rolls his eyes and Leia giggles. The others in the room all get up and get themselves some pasta, Tony sliding a plate in front of Peter, so he stops eating his daughter’s. Leia giggles when she starts stealing pieces from Peter’s plate instead.

“Oh, my god. Where did you learn to cook like this, spider-boy?” Bucky groans. “Thought Leia was exaggerating when she said it was the best in the world,” Peter shrugs, smiling softly.

“Mama taught him!” Leia smiles up at them. Everyone in the room stays quiet for a moment, until Peter replies, a soft, happy look on his face.

“Yeah,” He breathes, pinching Leia’s cheek. “Yeah, she did,” Everyone around the table relaxes, the tension that had grown at the mention of Leia’s mother fading away. They all start up their own conversations, letting Peter and Leia be in their own little world for a while.

Peter is just pushing the pasta left over around his plate when he looks up at Tony and clears his throat.

“Mr Stark?” Tony hums slightly as he looks up, frowning slightly at the look on Peter’s face. “It would have been her birthday on Tuesday,”

“Eighteen, huh?” Tony asks with a sad smile. Peter nods, looking back down.

“Yeah,” He chokes out. “Leia and I are going out for the day, you know. It’s been cleared with school and Aunt May’s taken the day off from the hospital to come with us. We were just gonna go to the zoo, visit her grave, and stuff. We were wondering if…if you’d come with us? Spend the day,” He looks at Tony’s face but avoids his eyes as his voice drops to a whisper. “She would have liked you,” Tony freezes, and Peter tries to ignore the way he can feel the others listening, even as they try to pretend they’re still deep in their own talks.

“You don’t want me there. It’s your day, kid. You should spend it together, as a family,” Tony sighs, trying to let the kid down gently.

“Exactly. As a family.” Peter drops his head back down, stomach dropping when Tony is quiet for what feels like a few seconds and a hundred years.

“You really want me there?” Peter’s head shoots up, nodding, wide, hopeful eyes meeting Tony’s. The older man sighs, smiling slightly. “Okay, kid,”

“Thanks, Dad,” Leia tugs on Peter’s sleeve after he speaks, and the teen turns to face her when she starts asking about ice cream. He doesn’t see the tears that fill Tony’s eyes. No-one else mentions them.