#that heavy debt on their kid’s shoulders

[batwynn]

All the advertising I saw for Elemental:

Check out this wacky adventure between a fire person and a water person! A Tree Child Flirts with her! LOL! HEY LOOK CLOUD PEOPLE! *cartoon spring and honking noises*

Me: I don’t… want to watch that. Oh well, that’s fine.

Me actually watching it:

Oh wait, it’s a story of an immigrant family who come with nothing and build a community for themselves and their people and the weight of debt you feel to your parents who sacrificed for you to succeed but the way that that success sometimes isn’t what you want and how parental love can feel conditional when there’s a lack of clear communication and—

Me getting to the end: SHE BOWED AND HE BOWED BACK 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭💦💧💦💧💦💧💦💧💦🌊🌊🌊🌊🚿🚿🚿

[celenawrites]

I wanna write a Ghost/Soap/Reader fic but....set in A/B/O AU. (I rambled in tags about it)

[jinnie-ret]

we are family

stray kids x fem!reader (platonic)

genre: fluff

content warnings: alcohol mentions

word count: 1.7k

summary: having one brother in stray kids means you have 7 other brothers too

requested: @turtledove824

1K FOLLOWERS PLAYLIST 💚🖤

MAIN MASTERLIST

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It was fun being the youngest in the Kim family, having the best of both worlds with both an older sister and older brother, the two of them having the same supportive, playful energy as you did. Along with this, having 7 other older brothers practically adopt you as their own sibling was also great, even with the chaos it brought.

You were fortunate enough to visit Seungmin and the rest of the Stray Kids regularly when you had free time during university, and so that built up your bond even stronger with the other boys. With Seungmin, it meant that the teasing was even stronger, considering he's seen you complaining about assignments, boring lecturers and night life not hitting the same anymore.

"Maybe you've become boring now," he had teased you in the past, a joyful laugh always following right after when you would get annoyed and smack him on the shoulder.

This time round, however, you had completed your three year course at university, and the other boys had suggested they should have a celebratory dinner at Seungmin and Felix's dorm to congratulate you, Felix and Changbin's suggestion.

"Yah! You should do something nice for your younger sister! She always sends gifts for when we release an album, and that's with student debt too!" Changbin had righteously said a couple weeks ago. So here they were now, all eight Stray Kids gathered in the Seunglix household, waiting to greet you.

Seungmin was already having a mare. He was desperate keep the place tidy, already jokingly scolding Felix for the remnants of a late night gaming sesh being scattered across the coffee table in their lounge. Not to mention, where Stray Kids were, there was chaos, so just the mere fact of them all being together had him worried of the mess that works ensue.

"We should have just gone out somewhere instead," Seungmin complained watching his most of his hyungs and Jeongin messing around.

"Just be grateful I'm the one cooking, Kim Seungmin!" Minho called out from the kitchen.

"I swear this hyung hears everything..." Seungmin turned to the others with wide eyes and a shake of the head.

"Lino-hyung's cooking is so good though, you must be jealous you're not living with him anymore," Jisung smugly grinned, stretched across the sofa and his head in the maknae's lap.

"Maybe it's just a ploy to eat Minho's cooking again," Jeongin jokes making Jisung laugh as they giggled together.

"No no, it's for his sister," Chan shakes his head fondly.

"Yeah..." Hyunjin began with a laugh, "he doesn't want her to get food poisoning from his own cooking."

"Yah!" Seungmin yelled and pointed at Hyunjin with a crazy face that made the ferret like man cackle especially loudly.

"Yah! Did you just 'Yah' your hyungs?!" Changbin stood up suddenly with his muscly arms folded, but before any threat from Seungmin could be voiced, the doorbell rang.

He speed walks towards the door, opening it to see you with your heavy shoulder bag on the floor. You smile in relief that you could not only sit down and have a nice meal but be around your brothers.

"Thanks for letting me stay whilst you're busy," you smiled up at Seungmin after sharing a short hug.

"No, no, it's no problem, the guys are all here to see you by the way," Seungmin turned around, leaving the door open for you. A nice gesture, yes, but it didn't stop the stinkeye you gave him for not even offering to carry your- heavy, by the way- luggage inside. You rolled your eyes but brightened up upon seeing everyone else as you walked inside.

"Hey guys!"

And with that you were greeted with multiple hugs, some more gentle, like Chan, Changbin, Felix and Jeongin. Others, Hyunjin and Jisung being others, were a bit more overexcited and gave tight hugs.

"You don't greet me like this," Seungmin observed, arms folded as he perched on the arm of the sofa.

"Because we don't miss you," Jisung savagely commented, getting revenge on Seungmin by copying his same energy when they had previously changed dorms and split in half.

"Mm, something smells good, you cooked?" you asked, shocked that her brother could cook something that smelt so nice.

"Oh yeah, that was all me," Seungmin nodded, pride on his face.

"Kim Seungmin!" Minho sternly walked out with a spatula in hand, apron on and tied around his waist. He did a 180 when he saw you though, going soft, you could say. "Oh hey!"

"Knew there was one of you missing," you stood up to hug Minho quickly. "Want any help?"

"You should sit down and relax! You've been busy with uni, you can just rest now," Felix dismissed you with a warm heart, wanting to chat and catch up with you rather than have you get lost in the kitchen.

"That was like one month ago that it ended, haha," you shrugged his light concern off.

"Really? It's been that long?" Jisung's jaw dropped, slightly dramatically in your opinion but it made you grin nonetheless.

"Yeah, it feels really weird that it's over but I'm glad I can do nothing now, you know?" you replied, sinking into the sofa in relaxation.

"That's the way to go," Jisung nodded in approval, being someone that appreciates time for himself despite being more outdoors recently.

"No, there must be something you're doing right? Gotta keep yourself busy," Chan wondered, leaning forwards in his seat.

"No not really. Just been chilling, meeting friends..." you trailed off, which gave your brother the perfect time to pitch in.

"And drinking, a lot."

"You can't judge, you like a drink or two as well!" you bickered back.

"Yeah but not five," Seungmin smirked, seeing you riled up. He was only fueled further when the rest of the guys laughed at your siblings banter.

"Aish this oppa is really, geuuahh," you pulled an odd face, raising your fist jokingly at Seungmin.

"They're literally the same person," Jeongin claps his hand and laughs.

"Say it louder, Seungmin won't like that," Hyunjin plotted, leaning into the maknae, whilst the Kim siblings continued to argue.

"No but not five!" you started indignantly, "Well, it depends but..."

"What do you mean it depends?" Seungmin was exasperated at this point, wanting his point to be proven right.

"Well how much does a shot constitute for a whole drink...?" you scratched your neck Felix tapped you in the shoulder with a laugh.

"Aigoo... your liver will be.... Pwahhh!" Seungmin makes a bursting explosion motion with his hands in your face.

"Hey no it won't-!" you shoved his hands away laughing.

"Puppies stop fighting and eat some food," Minho called from the kitchen, which started a chain reaction of making everyone enter the kitchen and sit down at the dining table. Makeshift dining table, mind you. It was a creative ensemble of a small dining table, a desk, and a couple of side tables too. And that wasn't even getting started on the chair situation.

"Why does your table have a hole in it?" you poked your hand in and out of the desk, a deep look if concentration on your face.

"Oh that's my gaming desk and the cables go through there," Felix excitedly explained.

"What happened to your setup then?" you looked at him in disbelief.

"On the floor..." Felix sheepishly looked down.

"Oh you shouldn't have to have done that!" you grin at him affectionately.

"I think Jeongin is sat on an old speaker right now?" Chan questioned in bewilderment.

"Wahh we really let Seungmin and Felix live together," Changbin laughed.

"We didn't have time to order a bigger table! You're lucky you've got a chair," Seungmin complains, waving everyone off with his hand.

"Oh what's this? Seungmin complaining again?" Minho teased as he brought in the food, serving some kimchi, rice and jajangmyeon.

"Yah hyung!" Seungmin slapped the table, triggering a laugh from you. "Why are you laughing too?"

"Nothing, nothing," you shrugged, not able to hide the smile creeping up on your face. However, your brother got triggered, and so a piece of hot kimchi came flying your way, only to go through the hole in Felix's gaming desk

"Goal!!!" Han and Hyunjin cheer at the same time, making them look at each other in awe and silence before they burst out laughing.

"So loud," Jeongin groans and covers his ears, but when he moves his hands he accidentally knocks over some water onto poor Chan, who had been happily tucking into some food. He got startled so much so that he stood up from the chill of the water hitting his lap but inevitably fell back into the inflatable floaty he was sat on. One that was probably taken from a SKZ Code episode.

The air cap popped and Chan sat their in defeat as he sank to the floor, deflating. Minho and Changbin snorted at the chaos, happily eating where they were sat in normal, wooden dining chairs. Minho had tried offering the normal chair to you but you insisted he got an at least stable chair as he had done all the cooking himself.

Plus, you were quite happy on your fluffy beanbag.

"Arghh we can't eat here anymore! Go into the lounge please," Seungmin whined at the mess, disbelief returning once again.

The boys nod, some stifling laughs as they carry plates and glass into the lounge. It probably would have been easier if you all ate in there in the first place, you thought.

Felix remained in his seat, almost frozen at the mess of their attempted dinner.

"Seungmin I think your roommate is traumatised," you waved a hand in front of Felix's face.

"So am I," Seungmin nods along and pats Felix on the shoulders.

"I'll help tidy," you stand, scanning the kitchen to find some kitchen towel to mop up the mess.

*No no, it's only a small mess, they just made it seem like a lot more haha," Seungmin chuckled at the chaos his bandmates had brought.

"Ok... But you know it wouldn't have happened if you didn't throw that piece of kimchi at me," you laughed as you left, Felix following, seeing it as his time to escape.

"Actually no get back in here!" Seungmin has his hands on his hips, yet he was stood there alone for a good few seconds before he gave up and joined everyone in the lounge.

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tagged: @skz-streamer @kiraisastay @kpopmenace143 @haodore @arloo00 @dunno-wut-to-do @splat00z @his-angell @2minstan @skzoologist @lovingchan @atinyniki @writingforstraykids @lilmisssona @astraysimp @lixie-phoria @theo4eve @linoalwaysknows @royal-shinigami @jolly04 @turtledove824 @yangbbokari @thisrandomgoofy15 @lieslab @hannamoon143 @arumlilyeclipse

[baby-tini]

OG Timeline Mikey is secret F-buddies with Single mom reader and falls for her but doesn’t know she has kids until he sees her out with them one day x

Pls & Ty x

TW- small indication of murder, a hint of stalking Sorry this is a little rushed, I can do it over for you another time if you'd like.

The day you met Manjiro Sano, it was an accident, the man you were with, Yaku Akuma, had a debt to Toman, but more importantly, Manjiro Sano, himself. He never told you anything about the debt muchless the reason, it was for gambling, he had lost thousands of dollars in just slots alone, so he took out a loan from Toman with the promise too pay it back, but that obviously didn't happen. It had taken him days after the expectation date, for the money, for him too even tell you.

It had been at his apartment, it was a casual hang-out, late at night when there was a loud bang on the door and a man screaming through it. He had jumped off the couch in a panic, grabbing your hand and ushering you into the bedroom with a plead too stay quiet while he dealt with the situation. You could hear screaming from multiple different while you sat in the bedroom, hoping nothing bad happened as you sent a text to your nanny that was watching your son, briefing her on the situation and too make sure Haruto was safe. It was when you hid your phone that you heard multiple gunshots and a cease to the screaming, you had bit at your sleeve too stop the yelp that clawed at your throat in surprise.

It was quiet, for what felt like hours, before the bedroom door swung open and in walked a man with blonde, slicked back hair and the biggest black eyes you've ever seen. He stared at you for a while before approaching, a gun on his hip as you began too plead for you life, promising money if he just let you live, but he had ignored you, sitting on the bed, in front of you and asking for your relation to Yaku. When you explained, through tears, that he was just a casual acquaintance and there wasn't much relation between the two of you. The man looked unamused, like he didn't believe you but had told you too leave and go home, moving off the bed as you had vigorously nodded, exclaiming your appreciation through choked-out sentences.

It was two weeks after that when you saw him again, while working at a bar and tending to customers. Your co-worker had approached you with the plead of serving a few men in the VIP section, stating that she was too busy with familial problems and had too leave. You had locked eyes with the man when you sat a bottle of Clase Azul Reposado Tequila and Don Julio 1942 on the table. You had left as quickly as possible when you locked eyes with him, onyx stared you down and made you shift uncomfortably. Quickly brushing past the red satin curtains that concealed the room, you rushed outside too get fresh air, knocking past people as you spewed quick apologies.

Rapidly throwing open the back door of the club as you dig in your pocket for the Camel Blues you keep stashed for stressful times. The shaking of your hands making it harder too light but quickly sucking on the stick when you do. You find the first inhale of smoke refreshing and calming as your shoulders slump down slightly in relief. Your head leaning back against the cold brick wall as you breathe the smoke in the air. Only too be cruelly interrupted by the same man that had you shaking in the first place. Manjiro Sano, he stands proudly, head up and shoulders high as he stares you down, his eyes intrigued but mostly empty. His presence intimidating as you swallow and back up, a couple feet. He watches you, his eyes sharp as he steps closer, his heavy steps sounding heavy on damp pavement. He reaches for you, flinching away, you curl a little. He doesn't back down though, just proceeds to move his hand closer and brush away lose strands of your hair from your face. He took you to a hotel that night, with the promise too not kill you, claiming he just wanted a couple answered. With the knowledge that he could kill you and a kid too thing about at home, you got in the car. The drive there was silent, not awkward but silent. Excluding the occasional instructions to his driver. The hotel was nice, the rooms even nicer as you sat on the comfy linen bed, the pillows tucked into satin pillowcases. They wasn't much talking as he pushed you onto the bed, nipping at your neck as he took off his Chanel suit jacket. He had fucked you all over that room that night, fucking into you relentlessly as held one of your legs over his hips. His teeth making bruising marks on your throat as he kissed at the side of your face, sweat rolling down your temple. You had continued your escapades a countless of times in that hotel from then on. Meeting up too get drinks only for him too later on fuck you over the bathroom sink before dragging you over to the bed and fucking you on the edge. Your chest laying flat against the sheets as his hand held your held into the sheets, his free hand squeezing your hips as he fucked you stupid. The screaming of his name barley muffled by the sheets with how loud you were. He grew too care about you, he was around you so much, he couldn't really prevent the feeling of lust turning into adoration and love. He tried his best too spend as much time with as he could but he was a very busy man, so he had his men watch you. When he was alerted by one of his men that you were out and close by, he decided too end his meeting a little early as he had his driver take to him. He froze when he saw you with a child, no older then three, the kid was jumping around on the jungle gym, falling down the slide on his belly as you watched and played with the boy. Raising him up in your arms as you kissed his cheek in a multitude as the boy giggled and attempted too swat you awa. He decided from there on, in that car, he was gonna be a father, readying too take on the life as a father if it meant you'd be his. Forever.

[steddielations]

“Evening, sir.”

It’s the Harrington boy. Again.

“I told you, son, it’s Wayne,” he manages a smile, harder to do these days, like chipping it out of cement and dusting it off. But he gets it done.

Steve doesn’t have the Henderson boy with him today, that’s a first.

“Where’s the curly one?” He steps aside, letting Steve into the trailer door, more rickety than before. No money left to fix it after repairing the bulk of the earthquake damage.

“Dustin? He doesn’t wanna watch the game, and trust me, you don’t wanna listen to that kid complaining the whole time,” Steve walks by, sorta chuckling to himself, “I always miss the replay ‘cause he makes me change the channel to those D&D cartoons during the commercials, just like—”

He stops in front of the couch, looking over his shoulder at Wayne like he’s afraid he messed up somehow. Wayne noticed that look often from him, less and less, but still often. All that confidence he carries can drop on a dime, sorta reminded him of—

“Like Ed?”

“Yeah. Sorry.”

“S’alright. I don’t mind talking about him if you want,” Wayne manages another concrete smile, but he means it. Steve always waits for him to bring up Eddie first, like he doesn’t want to remind him if it ain’t on his mind, but Wayne likes to be reminded. It’s nice to feel like he’s not the only one missing him. “But the game was yesterday and y’know the cable’s out.”

“Yep, got it covered. I uh, I taped it,” Steve fishes a VHS tape from his back pocket. Fancy. Wayne would worry about him using that for his sake, but he has a feeling Steve’s folks aren’t around enough to notice.

“The Colts win?”

Steve flips the tape around, “Haven’t watched it, so we can bet on it if you’re feeling lucky.”

It doesn’t feel so dry and heavy when Wayne laughs a bit then, waving Steve to go ahead and start up the TV. He already caught the game on the radio, but he bets on the Colts anyway. Loser’s supposed to do the dishes after they scrounge together some soup, but Steve does them anyway.

Wayne would make a stink about it but he can tell Steve just wants to help, to feel like he’s helping. Same thing when the Henderson boy comes around to see him, wanting to hear all the stories, even the scary ones. So Wayne doesn’t mind letting Eddie’s friends feel like they’re helping him.

His nephew didn’t have many friends. Real, cover-your-six kinda friends. The boys he played his music with, they’ve come by a couple times, Wayne always liked Jeff despite the racket. That older fella that’s doing time now, Wayne wasn’t too fond of. And some of Eddie’s dungeon buddies he talked about were the only few.

Now, casual acquaintances? Anybody who didn’t have anywhere else to sit when he had an empty spot at his table? Sure, Eddie had those in spades.

His boy was good at that, putting on a good old show for his crowd, on a stage to keep his distance. That damn Al did him in good, never could trust easily, having his old man pop up and drag him into his mess before he took off again. And Eddie’s poor momma would’ve done right by him, if she hadn’t gotten sick so young.

Took Wayne a long time to get Eddie to depend on him, to trust this was his place to stay and he didn’t have to earn it, Wayne wasn’t just filling his head to scheme something out of him.

Love ain’t a transaction that way. He wasn’t ever any good at saying it, but he tried to show Eddie the best he could.

His boy though, always carried a debt with him. Like he owed Wayne something for taking him in, had to graduate quick and make it outta here, do something with the better life he gave him. Al dug him in so deep, Eddie stayed roped into whatever his latest scheme was (the cars, the dealing, the gambling, thank God Eddie wasn’t there when the goddamn robbery went wrong, 25 to life) like maybe it’d be enough to keep him from running off again.

The odds have never been in favor of people like them, poor folk in a town that’s stuck in its ways, where everybody’s just like their old man, but Al made his choices and Wayne made his. Rest their mother’s soul, she did her best. Part of Wayne was relieved when Al got locked up, at least Wayne had a better chance of keeping Eddie from going down the same path, try to raise him right.

Being a Munson wasn’t a crime. He didn’t owe a darn thing to anybody. Eddie could graduate at his own pace, play whatever games and music he wanted, dress however, that didn’t mean he was up to no good. And a lot of boys get into dealing for a little easy extra money around here, he was gonna grow out of that just like Wayne did.

It worked until all this mess.

That’s why Eddie ran off after what happened to the poor Cunningham girl. He gets spooked when something goes wrong, like it’ll be the last straw he can’t make up for so he runs off. Like the first time he didn’t make senior year, went and hid out with that Rick fella that Wayne never did like, got Eddie deep into that business he tried to keep a secret.

‘Course Wayne knew. He knows exactly what and where his boy hides. If those damn cops weren’t tailing him, he would’ve gone straight to get him.

That was before he knew it would turn into all of this. Now he wishes he would’ve done it anyway. Gone right to Eddie, told him it wasn’t his fault that everything got all turned upside down. Told him he knew he was innocent right from the get-go, and got him away from this rotten old town.

But he didn’t.

He didn’t go get his boy.

So now he’s just trying to be there for Eddie’s boys, since he can’t.

“You have a night shift tonight right? Gonna put on a pot of coffee,” Steve says once he’s finished up the dishes.

Wayne hums. There’s usually more noise going on during these visits. Steve’s still alright at carrying on, even without the Henderson boy’s chatter to fill any gaps.

It was strange, the first time the two of them showed up. Wayne knew Eddie was close with Dustin, but he didn’t have a clue that he was chumming it up with the Harrington boy. Just don’t seem like the same type of company. He might not believe it if it weren’t so obvious that Steve cared about his boy. He suspected before, but now with Steve showing up here alone, he knows.

Steve misses Eddie in a different sorta way than Dustin.

“No cream or sugar, right?” Steve looks humored by that as he passes the mug of black coffee to him, “How are you related to Eddie again?”

Wayne’s mouth turns upward, remembering his nephew’s god awful sweet tooth. He picked up a box of Honeycombs the other day in the store out of habit. “Just happened to be standin’ there when they beamed him down.”

That gets a good chuckle out of Steve. Nothing wistful weighing it down and Wayne’s glad, watching Steve pour himself a cup of coffee too.

Then bitter-sweetness swirls in his chest, seeing the mug that Steve chose for himself. Must’ve dug it out from one of the boxes Wayne hadn’t hung back on the walls yet. The earthquake did a number on his collection. That Garfield one was the only one he’d gotten around to gluing back together.

“What is it?” Steve asks, cup paused at his mouth.

“Ah nothin’ just,” Wayne waves it off, “That’s the mug Ed always used.”

“Oh, I can use a diff—”

“Nah, nah go ‘head. It’s fine.”

Unconvinced, Steve takes a wary sip.

Mostly these days, Wayne just feels like a watch without a ticker, a chest with nothing beating inside it. He can’t name the feeling he has at seeing Eddie’s old mug being used by someone else, but at least it’s something.

“Y’know, he used to put everything in that sucker. Soda pop, soup, cereal, you name it,” Wayne shakes his head, mouth twitching into a smile, “I’d have to wrestle it away from him just to give it a good washing. It’s well loved, alright. Leaks now.”

As if on cue, Steve has to grab a napkin to sit underneath it.

Wayne lets out an amused hum, “He uh— Didn’t have much stability ‘fore he came to live with me, so he’d get real attached to things like that.”

Carried around a stuffed dragon they picked up at a garage sale ‘til Wayne couldn’t sew the wings back on anymore. Never wanted to throw anything away. Got real anxious about Wayne going to work sometimes, even when he was too old for a sitter. Held onto him saying “Stay home just today, Dad, please.” Which, he didn’t mind Eddie calling him that. It always softened him up, made him give in. Wishes now that he’d told Eddie upfront. Maybe he never would’ve stopped.

“Thought for sure he’d marry that damn guitar one day.”

Steve nearly sputters his coffee, laughing at that, “Yeah, those two are made for each other.”

It’s nice, seeing the way that story lit Steve up. Sorta like his boy can still make someone happy. Hurts like hell that he ain’t here to do it himself, but Wayne was always good at telling stories. That’s where Eddie learned it from.

“I’m uh,” Steve deflates after a minute, looking down at the mug, “God, I’m just really sorry, Wayne.”

“Yeah. I’m sorry too, Steve,” he says, because, well.

Wayne gets the feeling that his boy was Steve’s boy too.

Read the rest on Ao3

[charlie-lec-stories]

Invisible string // CL16

Pairing: Charles Leclerc / Vettel!Sister

Summary: While on a difficult time in his life, Sebastian discovers that his family is way bigger than he thought.

Warnings: Alcohol and drugs consumption, strong language.

Author’s Note: This story is and is not about Charles, but it's a nice story and I thought that it would be nice to include it on this blog. I'm not comfortable with writing about the death of real people, so even though reader is Sebastian's little sister, I changed the names of his parents and to feel more comfortable with the plot. You have to remember that this stories are originally done for my own fictional characters and I adapt them to the F1 world to include Charles on them, so when I write about Sebastian's family I am not speaking of the real one. Rate: +16 (sensitive language and mature activities)

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"Sebastian, I'm so sorry for your loss". It was the tenth time he had heard that phrase in an hour, and even though he was grateful for so many people being there for him, he was sick and tired of the condolences. He smiled sadly at yet another friend of his father, Klaus, and quickly looked around, searching for Hanna, his wife, to save him from the situation. He found her at the other side of the room, she instantly understood him and made her way to where he was. She started some light conversation with the older man, sending Sebastian a complicit look, giving him his cue to leave. He swiftly escaped to the kitchen and hid there for a few minutes. 

"Hi, kid". Sebastian looked up to find Henry, his father's best friend. The British man was like family to Sebastian and now that his father had joined his mother in Heaven, Henry felt like the last piece of family Sebastian had. "I've been looking for you".

"Well, you found me. I thought I had done a better job at hiding though. I'm not really in the mood for more condolences". Henry pulled away a chair and sat next to him, patting his back lightly, trying to be as comforting as he could.

"You don't need to hide from me, Seb". They both laughed softly, the tension on Sebastian's back loosening a bit.

"I know. I'm just... overwhelmed, I think". He let out a long sigh, and Henry squeezed his shoulder, his heavy hand finding a home there.

"I know, I felt the same when my father passed away. My brother was a good help at the moment, he took care of everything, I just felt like it all was too much. I actually went to your father's and hid there for hours. Came back home, stoned as fuck, just in time to put the old man to the ground". Sebastian smiled, he knew that story, his father had told him about the time he and Henry smoked weed like two Woodstock hippies the day Henry's father died. "Klaus was a good friend, but sometimes I feel a big debt with my big brother, he really stepped up that day".

"You're lucky to have a brother to be there for you at a time like that. I think that's one of the cons of being a single child". Sebastian felt Henry tense up, and the warm hand that was once on his shoulder, now slipped away, as if Henry was unable to maintain the contact. "What? What is it?".

"Seb...". The tension grew so thick that Sebastian had to move away slightly. Something was wrong, terribly wrong. "You know I wasn't just your father's best friend, I was also his lawyer". The younger man nodded slowly, his narrowed and confused eyes focused on the older man. "I may just give you this now, I would rather see you next week for the will's reading with this information a little bit more processed".

"What are you talking about?". Henry looked inside his coat, taking an envelope out of his pocket and handing it to Sebastian, who took him with trembling hands. "Henry, what is this?".

"That's a letter your father wrote to you, twenty years ago". Sebastian took the letter out and started reading right away.

"A sister? A baby sister?". Henry saw the array of emotions that passed the younger man's eyes: confusion, anger, sadness, disappointment, happiness. Sebastian felt every emotion he was capable of in just a few seconds, as his father's words sunk in. The letter was about the time when his parents had briefly separated and Klaus had gone to Henry's home in England to spend a few weeks, while he decided what to do about his marriage. He wrote about how he met a lovely woman, and that after one night with her, he decided that he was getting a divorce, but then, a 9 years old Sebastian called him and asked him when he was coming home and he understood that he loved his life in Germany, with Sebastian and Lina, his wife. He left the lovely woman behind and went back home, just to get a call a year later, letting him know that he had a daughter but the lovely woman wanted nothing to do with him. The letter finished with Klaus begging for Sebastian's forgiveness. 

"He left half of everything he had to that little girl, who's not so little now. He asked me to find her once he passed away and let her know that there were some things that he wanted her to have, but, most importantly, he wanted you both to meet". Sebastian, who just then noticed that he was crying, wiped his tears away angrily.  

"Why? Why hide this from me?". Henry gathered the courage to place his hand on Sebastian again and ran his finger through the grieving man's blonde locks.

"Because he was too scared to do anything about this while he was alive, but he knew that you deserved to know the truth".

A week later, Sebastian was sitting in Henry's office, Hanna by his side and Henry drinking a cup of tea in front of him while they waited for the girl to show up. Henry found her in the same town Klaus had met her mother, a little town that was Henry's home for a short period of time in 1996. It was crazy, but she was born on July 3rd, 1997, exactly on Sebastian's 10th birthday. He had always wanted a little sibling so it kind of felt like a birthday present, one he had hoped to know about way sooner. They waited but as the minutes passed, Sebastian started to lose hope on ever meeting his sister. What if she didn't show up? What if she didn't want to meet him? Henry sent the letter, but she never answered. What if she just didn't care about her father's side of the family? Hanna grabbed his hand and he felt a little bit of comfort, but the fear in his heart could only subside with the mystery girl's presence. There were some muffled voices that rang on the other side of the door and Hanna turned around expectantly to see who they were, but Sebastian couldn't move, not even when the door opened and his wife gasped, him too afraid to turn around. 

"Good afternoon, is this Mr. Henry Wood's office?". Even if the thick Northern British accent took him by surprise, Sebastian was still petrified, and he saw Henry get up to welcome the people who walked in. 

"Yes, I'm Henry. You must be Eleanor". Two sets of feet could be heard and Sebastian understood that his sister didn't show up alone. They both reached the desk and just then, he could move to look up. There was an older woman, in her 50s, dark reddish hair and green eyes looking down at him with an expression he couldn't quite read. Next to her was a younger girl, her face shared a lot of features with him, she was unmistakably his sister, a Vettel without a doubt. It was strange, looking at her, a complete stranger, and still finding himself looking back. Her hair was lighter than her mother's, but they both shared green eyes. 

"Yes, I'm Eleanor. This is Y/N". The girl shook Henry's hand, but she sat down not even looking at Sebastian once. 

"Seb, if you don't mind, I'd like to start with Y/N's part of the will". Hanna had to elbow him, because he was zoning out looking at the girl.

"Yes". He finally said, looking back at Henry and clearing his throat. "Of course I don't mind".

Henry took his time, properly going through every part of Klaus' will. The older German left the summer house, one car and half of his bank account to his estranged daughter, and the rest to Sebastian, which included the family home, one car and the other other half of the money. Y/N never said a word, if it wasn't for him constantly looking at her, he could have sworn that she wasn't even there. Eleanor spoke up a few times, asking about legal processes and such, she sounded like a sweet woman, but Sebastian could see that she was trying to put on her mean face, doing her best to protect her child. Hanna had excused herself in the middle of everything, a chaotic call from their children sending her out of the office to play referee between their arguing toddlers. Henry walked out once the will was completely read, telling them that he needed to grab some other papers for them to sign. Eleanor started telling her daughter about what they were going to do with the summer house, that they could keep it or sell it, that if she wanted to sell it, they could rent a hotel room and use the money to do some remodeling and sell it for a higher price. Y/N spoke for the first time, agreeing with the selling.

"You're welcome to stay with us-". Sebastian started, but Eleanor cut him off.

"No, thank you". She had a hard look on her face, but the broken gesture on Sebastian's softened her a little. "I made a choice twenty years ago, and I stand by it, Sebastian. She's not a Vettel".

"But-". Eleanor got up and pulled her daughter with her.

"I said no. She's been more than fine without her father's influence. She won't start with this now". With that, she started to walk away, ready to wait outside for the final papers.

"I am not my father". Sebastian's angry tone made the two women turn around to look at him. He was still sitting, his body resting on the back of the chair, his gaze on the ground, until he looked up at them, tears threatening to spill out. "I was lied to, for twenty years. You knew we existed, I didn't. I was robbed of the chance of meeting her sooner, of watching her grow. I was robbed of the chance of being a brother, of forming a bond. So excuse me for trying to start now! Excuse me for wanting to get to know my sister!". Eleanor exchanged a look with Y/N, then, the girl walked up to Sebastian. The staring contest went on for a few seconds, then, she sat back down and wrote her phone number on a paper that she found on the desk. 

He was shocked when Y/N showed up at his door the next month without Eleanor, her mother still choosing to stay in a hotel instead of Sebastian's house. Even though it was unrealistic, when he let her into his home, he kind of expected them to click instantly, but his bubble quickly popped. The following two weeks were a disaster, Sebastian learned that they not only had nothing in common, she actually seemed to dislike him. If he said white, she said black, if he said sweet, she said sour. Sometimes he wondered if she was doing it on purpose, just to start a fight. He had never met anyone so different to him and they argued for almost every little thing on a daily basis. He complained to Hanna every night, he didn't know what to do, he wanted his sister to like him, he wanted to build something great with her, but she only pushed him away. But Hanna told him something that made him keep fighting: "She could go back home whenever she wanted, she could even go to her mother, staying just fifteen minutes away from us, still, every night, she chooses to stay here. She may be having a hard time letting you in, but she's not backing down and neither should you".

There was one thing that he noticed she couldn't hate about his life, and that was racing. Every day she walked down the stairs, he could hear her stop for a few minutes to stare at his pictures on the walls, most of them from his Red Bull days, but some from his now Ferrari era. He could tell that she liked Formula 1, even if she tried to hide it, he could see the spark in her eyes whenever she lingered a little too long on a trophy in the living room, or when he and Hanna went over the last details of the new season starting next month. She always seemed to listen to those conversations without making any mean remarks. That shared interest gave Sebastian an idea, he could take her with him to the races, maybe she would like him a little better if she could see him in his element, doing what he loved and maybe showing off a little. It was also a chance to spend more time with her, just the two of them, getting to know each other better. It could be his chance to be an older brother. She accepted the offer, not before making a whole scene of her showing almost zero interest and telling him that she was doing it more for the chance of meeting cute drivers than to spend time with him. He pretended to believe her, whatever means necessary if it meant her spending time with him.

"Y/N, are you ready?". He yelled from the bottom of the stairs, his German punctuality stressing over the fact that she was taking her sweet time, guaranteeing them to be 10 minutes late for the time he had to be at the airport. 

"Stop yelling! Jesus, you're insufferable". She complained as she walked down the stairs, her luggage heavy and hitting the edge of every step. He almost puked when she stood in front of him and saw what she was wearing. She had a white shirt with a Mercedes logo and number 44, Lewis Hamilton's name written on the back. She smirked at him and he looked back at her seriously, not finding anything funny in her little act. 

"You know my number is 5, and I drive for Ferrari, right?". He loved Lewis, he was one of his closest friends, but there was no way in hell his sister was wearing that to the paddock.

"I know". She simply stated and walked past him, saying goodbye to Hanna and going to the car. He spent the whole ride to the airport thinking of a good excuse to give to his Team Principal about why she was wearing that, but there was nothing that he could come up with.

"Well... That's... something". Maurizio, his team principal said as Y/N sat on the jet and put on her earphones, ignoring everyone.

"She's not my biggest fan". Sebastian admitted, sighing as he looked at his sister buckling up.

"I can see that". Maurizio laughed a bit, finding the situation a lot funnier than Sebastian.

"I already like her". He heard Kimi, his teammate, add without looking up from his phone, his eyes hidden behind dark sunglasses. It was going to be a long season.

To say that a white Mercedes shirt stood out in the sea of red would be an understatement. She was like a LED sign saying "I hate Sebastian Vettel'' and her little number caught the paddock's attention instantly. Walking into the paddock, she quickly ran away from him, going who knows where while he did everything that was required before the first practice. He spent all Friday without seeing her, until it was time to go back to the hotel and on Saturday, she was already making friends around and ignoring him. Her insistent effort to pretend like he didn't exist only fueled him to win, still, Lewis got pole and Kimi followed the Brit on the starting grid. Sebastian was fuming when he saw Y/N grin as she looked at him, satisfied with his anger. She was a menace, like a Vettel, but he could be even pettier, that's why, on Sunday, he ended up winning the race and enjoying the little tantrum she did before going back to the car locking herself in until he was ready to take her back to the hotel.

The next race, Sebastian got pole and won the race, enjoying more the fuming expression of his little sister than the win itself. But then came China and he ended up 8th even though he got pole position and it was her time to laugh. After almost a month hanging around the paddock, Y/N had made a lot of friends, especially with the drivers that were close to her age. She quickly befriended Max Verstappen and Pierre Gasly, who introduced her to the Alfa Romeo rookie, Charles Leclerc. Sebastian liked Charles, he was a talented kid and there was this rumor, almost confirmed, that he was the one that would take Kimi's seat the following season and become Sebastian's teammate. But Charles was a boy, and the German soon discovered he didn't like her sister hanging out with boys. The next two races ended up with Lewis taking the P1 spot and Sebastian wasn't sure what he hated more, losing or his sister being so incredibly happy with Lewis' wins. Maybe what he hated more was Y/N going out every weekend, clubbing with her new favorite drivers while he waited awake and stressed out for her to go back. She was twenty, it wasn't like he could ground her, but she was still a kid in his eyes and the idea of her drinking with those three boys wasn't his happiest thought. 

"I'm going out". She informed him casually, then, he walked out of the bathroom and grabbed his jacket. She looked at him, frowning.

"Let's go". He said as he walked to the door.

"What are you doing?".

"It's obvious, innit?". Replied, smirking and making fun of her accent.

"There's no way you're coming with us". She crossed her arms and they heard her phone ring with a message notification, probably one of the boys telling her that they were outside to pick her up. 

"I'm not asking you. Answer the text, tell your friends that I'm taking us to the club". She opened her mouth to complain, but he saw her face morph into a big grin.

"Sure, Seb". She took her phone out of her purse and quickly replied, with a suspicious look, she watched her walk out of the room and he followed her. 

He learned that night that, if he pushed her buttons, he'd probably end up paying a high price. She drank her weight in alcohol and made out with half the club, she even got into a fight with a guy way bigger than her, and he was the one that ended up with a sore cheek. He had to literally tear her away from Max Verstappen, and then from Charles Leclerc, and somehow, from three other guys. She did everything she knew would make him mad and the next morning, she ignored his 20 minutes long sermon about her actions. But, she didn't win. He kept joining her on her clubbing and made it his mission to keep her away from trouble - and Charles' disrespectful hands, well she wasn't exactly complaining, but Sebastian still didn't like it-. 

It was around their birthdays when they discovered that they were actually having fun together and, before they could notice, they ended up walking out of clubs laughing their asses off. The press had a field day with them, but Ferrari didn't seem to care, and it wasn't like he was getting in any trouble with Hanna for his nights out. Austria was the race before their birthdays and Max won, Sebastian coming in third. The Dutch celebrated shoving his tongue down Y/N's throat and Sebastian decided that he had enough, he could deal with the fights and the drunken mischief, but she was definitely not dating a driver. They spent their birthdays together in England, the first time they had a good time together without alcohol doing its magic. Charles Leclerc sent a gift and it had Sebastian rolling his eyes in annoyance, but it still was a sweet gesture, one he noticed his sister liked a lot. Eleanor was in a better mood, and Sebastian could appreciate a sweeter side of her. It was his best birthday so far. Thirty-one felt great and being an older brother felt even better, even if they still were having some issues. 

The next weekend was Silverstone, and the Vettel siblings fell into their previous dynamic. It was Y/N home race and Sebastian wanted to win it more than anything, but she still wore Lewis' shirt. The Brit got pole position, but Sebastian won the race and, for the first time, his sister congratulated him for his win. They hugged tightly, he even let some tears roll down his face, it was their first time ever hugging. They didn't go out that weekend, instead, the party kids decided to join the Vettels for a nice and tranquil dinner. Sebastian got to appreciate better the developing relationship between his sister and Charles, how the young driver was slowly but surely winning her over, and he didn't like it, Sebastian didn't like it one bit. He thought he disliked Max, but he discovered that he could dislike Charles even more. Hanna noticed, because if there was someone on Earth that knew Sebastian like the back of their hand, that was Hanna. She could see the possessive spark in his eyes, the way he tensed as he watched Charles whisper something in Y/N's ear while she giggled. She knew that he was close to exploding, but to her surprise, Sebastian didn't do anything.

The following six wins from Lewis were interrupted by Sebastian's win in Spa, and again, even if she was still wearing white, his sister was there to congratulate him. He could feel that they were getting closer, but as their relationship got stronger, so did hers with Charles. By the end of the 2018 season, Sebastian finished second in the championship and his sister had officially started dating Charles, who was confirmed to become his teammate for the 2019 season. It was going to be uncomfortable, especially since Sebastian had made clear that he didn't like the relationship. He was convinced that Charles would cheat on her, because there were very few drivers that could be trusted and, from Sebastian's perspective, Charles wasn't in that selective group. She spent Christmas with the Vettels and her mother and New Year in Monaco, with the Leclercs. Sebastian was fuming, but he did what he could to keep himself in check. His relationship with Y/N was better, but she still kept him at arms distance, she still didn't trust him fully. 

There were no words to express just how happy Sebastian was when he saw her dressed in Ferrari red, but the number 16 was definitely bugging him. Him and Charles got asked a lot about the tension of being teammates and in-laws in press conferences, and the German did what he could to play it cool, even if he was constantly day-dreaming about cutting Charles' hands off. Charles was nice and seemed to admire Sebastian a lot, he was a four times world champion after all, but the older driver just couldn't stand the Monegasque. It was a shame, because if it wasn't for Charles' relationship with Y/N, Sebastian was sure that he would like Charles. The thing is, he was jealous, he hated the fact that she trusted Charles more than him, even if she had known him for less time. The couple shared so much, and Sebastian just wanted his sister to share just one little thing with him, but they were in this weird position where she accepted him as her brother, but they weren't close. Charles had gone to her house, been in her room, knew what she liked, knew childhood stories and shared some inside jokes with her. Sebastian didn't know anything more than what he could guess from the time they had known each other, but she refused to share information with him. They were amicable, but they didn't have a bond and Sebastian hated that she did form one with Charles.

Mercedes dominated and won the first eight races, Max won Austria again and then, after a very tense first half of the year, it was Sebastian and Y/N's birthdays again. After that, came Silverstone, and the tension that had been building up for so long was finally ready to explode. The race was the last drop, the glass was full and Sebastian was ready to set the world on fire. Charles finished on the podium and Sebastian 16th, after being given a ten-seconds penalty for nosing Max's car with his Ferrari. He did the best he could to smile for the cameras but he wanted nothing more than to go back to the hotel and take the longest shower of his life. He watched Y/N kiss and hug Charles before he went to the podium and something inside him just snapped. He grabbed his sister and pulled her to the Ferrari garage as quietly as possible. They started arguing, because they were amazing at getting each other angry, and what started as a petty but harmless sibling fight, ended up with Y/N crying her eyes out and storming out of his driver's room. He went back to the hotel and took his so wanted shower, but when he got out, he didn't feel any better. As the time passed, he felt worse, and when he got an angry message from Eleanor, he knew that he had to fix what he had broken. He knew that she wasn't exactly helping to make things easier, but he was the big brother and if he really wanted the role, then he had to step up.

The trip to Eleanor's house wasn't long, and he noticed that he spent more time standing outside the door than he spent driving there. It was the first time he went there, the previous year they celebrated their birthdays in a restaurant and Y/N had refused to invite him to their home. He walked up to the door and after three failed tries, he finally rang the bell. He waited, the anxiety eating him alive, his heart beating faster as he heard footsteps getting closer to the door, what he didn't expect was Charles to be on the other side of it. He frowned, while the younger driver looked back at him, unamused. Charles actually looked like he was judging him and that angered the german, still, he did his best to contain himself and remembered, he was there to apologize. 

"She's not here". Charles said and Sebastian raised an eyebrow at him, Charles rolling his eyes and then explaining. "She went to buy some ice-cream with her mom".

"Can I come in and wait for them?". He saw Charles hesitate, but then move aside to let him in. They sat on the living room sofa, in complete silence. Sebastian took a moment to look around, a lot of pictures of his sister hanging on the walls. "Do they leave you alone here often?".

"Well, yeah". Sebastian was curious, how could Charles have all that privilege while he was constantly begging for his sister's attention.

"This is my first time here". He admitted, and Charles just nodded, shifting uncomfortably on his end of the couch.

"Uhm... I know". Sebastian just scoffed. 

"Of course you know. You know more about my sister and our relationship than me". Charles could hear the venom dripping from the words and tried to calm down.

"Don't say that. It's not like I know everything". The sour laugh Sebastian let out was pushing Charles closer to the edge.

"Well, you must be more than aware that she hates me". 

"She doesn't-". But the other cut him off.

"Don't lie to me, not about this". It was the hurt in Sebastian's voice that gave Charles the last push.

"Come with me". Charles got up and he followed, both of them walking up the stairs and stopping in front of a white door, Y/N name painted on it. "I promised her I wouldn't tell you, but I can't stand this anymore". The Monegasque opened the door and walked in, Sebastian right behind him. The sight inside left him speechless: His face was everywhere. There were posters, Red Bull merchandising, Ferrari flags, everything with the number 5, everything with his name. The posters were notoriously old, some were even roughed up by the years. "I know that you think she knew about you her whole life, but she didn't. She got a letter, for her twentieth birthday, from your father. Her mother had to tell her then, the truth about who her father was. But the craziest thing is, she was your biggest fan, even when she didn't know you were related. She saw you win your first championship when she was thirteen and begged her mother to buy her everything she could find about you. You were her hero. She worshiped you, Seb".

"I signed this". He said, his fingers faintly gazing at a Red Bull cap that was hanging from the headboard of the bed.

"She went to Silverstone 2012, Webber won, you were third. She was outside the paddock when you walked up to them as you were going in. Signed her cap and told her to follow her dreams. It meant the world to her. She used to race in karting". He couldn't stop the tears even if he wanted to, full on crying as he sat on the bed and hugged the cap close to his chest.

"But then why does she hate me so much?". How could this happen? She felt it, she felt the bond. Even when they didn't know, she did, deep down, she did. 

"Your father went back to your family, left her mom alone, then her mother wanted him out completely when she had the baby. She just grew up hating the man that used her mom as a night-stand and then ran back to Germany. When she learned that the same man she hated her whole life was also your dad... it was just too much". Charles walked up to the bed and sat down next to him, putting a reassuring hand on his shoulder. "She loves you, Seb. She loves you so much".

"What the fuck, Charles?!". They both looked up and found Y/N and Eleanor standing at the door, Y/N furious as she gripped a bowl of ice-cream. The Monegasque opened his mouth to explain, but she was quicker. "How could you do this to me?".

"Mon amour, I'm so-".

"Bullshit! You're not sorry, you're a fucking traitor". Her accent got a lot thicker the angrier she got. Sebastian, still crying, got up and stood in front of her.

"Don't, please, don't get mad at him". Sebastian begged. "I needed to know this, I needed to know that you actually like me. Y/N, please, I love you so much. I dreamed and begged for you my whole life, you have no idea how much happier I am knowing that you exist. I know that my father was a piece of shit to you both, I know that I can't fix that, but please, I'm begging you, give me a chance". He saw her doubt, he saw her hurt, but the moment she jumped on him and gripped him tightly he knew they were never letting go. "Thank you". He whispered on her hair and she just squeezed him on a deadly grip. They pulled apart and she looked at Charles, who was patiently waiting for her to forgive him, or kick him out. "You know, Charles is alright. I mean, 16 is not that bad of a number".

"I'd rather wear number 5, though". She said and Charles looked down. "But I don't want to be a shitty girlfriend, so I guess I can wear a cap with the number 16 along with my Vettel shirt". Charles looked up again and smiled wide at her. "Okay, listen, I swear to God, if you spill my secrets again, I'm dumping your ass".

"Won't happen again, Amour, I promise". He then looked at Sebastian. "So... I'm alright?".

"Don't push it, Leclerc". 

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

This story was based on a real case of two brothers separated when they were little, and the younger became a fan of his older brother's band without knowing they were related. It was really bittersweet when they discovered that they were brothers. I hope you liked this.

[brokenpieces-72]

What if, something happens on a mission and Spirit (Hybrid au), uses her body to protect one of the guys?

Something like this! (I have no idea why it’s blurry forgive me. Pic is from Superpower-Beyoncé)

Man y’all love angst. No judgement but dang. This one was a little tricky to come up with. Then I remembered Horangi.

Gamble

Missions go wrong, it’s not uncommon. It wasn’t even a mission though. You were in Korea for a time and you wanted to see what was in town. Horangi wasn’t fond of the idea, however with some pleading he gave in. Kyle and Johnny tagged along not wanting to leave you two alone for too long. It had been a good time for a while.

“So what is this?” You asked Horangi.

“Kimchi. It’s a little spicy.” He said simply. You tried it and it did have kick. You shook your head letting out an audible sound.

“Yep. Yep.” You said smiling.

“Too much?” He asked. You offered the rest to him and he didn’t mind finishing it off. You noticed he was keeping a mask on, and his tail was kept around his midsection under his jacket.

Kyle and Johnny took a moment to step away, Kyle trying to convince Johnny you could handle yourself, and Horangi would be there in case something went wrong. Something did go wrong.

As you walked along the busy streets you stuck close to Horangi or rather Horangi stuck close to you. You got an uneasy feeling, like he’s trying to hide behind you or something. You pulled off to the side and stop looking along the streets. Horangi was looking up and down the street like you’re being followed.

“What is it?” You asked. Horangi looked at you.

“Nothing.” He said trying to act casual.

“No it’s not.” You said. He tensed.

“You don’t need to know.” He snapped. When you flinched he softened. Fuck he knew coming out was a bad idea. You put an hand on his arm, looking up at him.

“I think I do.” You said.

Horangi looked up and then grabbed your arm.

“Run, don’t ask questions.” You ran following him through the streets, going up and down alleys, ducking around corners. You didn’t ask any questions until he took a moment to pull you closer to him against a wall. You pressed into him as much as you could, listening to his heavy breathing. You wrapped your arms around him, and squeezed gently.

“…we need to keep moving.” He said.

“You need to tell me what’s going o-“ a gun clicked behind you.

You were knocked out, and woke up in a dimly lit room. You were alone. Outside you heard shouting and someone being hit. You stayed quiet on the floor, not saying a word. When the door opened you shut your eyes pretending to be out still. You overheard them saying it would be better for you to be awake. That way your screaming could get the money they wanted. The door shut and you opened your eyes.

Horangi was on the ground, beaten and blood. You moved over to him putting your head to his chest to look for a heart beat. Still there. His breathing was ragged and they’d taken his hoodie.

“Horangi?” You asked. He looked up at you, exhausted.

“This is why… I didn’t want to come.” He said. You realized the situation easily enough and you hung your head.

“Gaz and Soap will find us.” You assured him. He chuckled, painfully.

“Your brother is gonna kill me.” He said.

“I’m sorry.” You said. You shouldv’e taken no for an answer. Left him alone.

“Hey… you didn’t know because I don’t talk about it. I kept to myself.” Horangi said. He explained that they were collecting debts he owed, and he’d given them everything he could but it wasn’t good enough. They were still after him for ranking up so much money, that he’d stayed away from his home town to keep his family safe. They thought you were his family.

“Where does it hurt?” You asked. Horangi tried sitting up, grunting. “Just tell me.”

“My ribs are broken, I think my shoulder is dislocated… black eye.” He said wincing.

“Okay that’s… we can still get out of this.”

“Kid, it’s not that simple, we could be anywhere, and your brother may be good with smells, but the odds of him finding us are slim.” Horangi said, starting to lose hope. Spirit was shaking, but didn’t show fear.

“We could still get out of here.” You said. You tried to sound hopeful.

“No-“ Horangi started, but then a shape of light shone on him, and you realized the door behind you had opened. Without hesitation your threw your arms around Horangi, covering his body with your own.

Hands grabbed at you trying to pry you off but you kept holding tight. Horangi begged them to leave you alone, trying to hold you just as tight. A swift kick to his already damaged ribs left him grunting and gritting his teeth.

“Leave him alone!” You growled at them. “Get the fuck away!”

“Come here you brat!” One of them yelled, grabbing your ears and yanking hard. you cried out. And Horangi held on tighter, yelling in Korean. They pulled harder and you tried tugging back, to no avail.

They tried then hitting Horangi and you clawed at their ankles, threatening them to back off. So they hit and attacked you instead. Despite Horangi’s pleas you endured it as much as you could, wincing. You swore they were going to break your limbs but you refused to let go of him. He was still your friend.

Then there’s a howl outside. The men stopped focusing on that, while you took the chance to see if Horangi was still awake. He was, and you gave him a pained smile.

“Guess I’m gonna die now.” He joked. You chuckled but winced from your bruised sides.

Johnny had brought not just Kyle but Price and König as well. The gangster had tried to hold you and Horangi hostage, but to no avail. They were wiped out easily. König helped you get Horangi to his feet, with you insisting on doing it yourself.

Johnny instead pulled you away from Horangi checking the damage.

“Johnny I’m fine.” You said, not wanting to be fussed over.

“You’re not, you need to get looked at.” He said.

“Is Horangi okay?” You asked. Johnny sighed. Why did you have to like Horangi, even after he’d gotten you in trouble and of course the rest of the team because they had to pull an impromptu rescue mission to save you both. It was silly, but if there’s one thing Johnny’s learned about you is that you can get attached easily.

“Horangi will be okay. He’s tough.” Johnny said, wanting to move on from the topic. You nodded and played with your hands.

When Horangi came out of the infirmary he found König waiting for him. Usually he was waiting on König. Horangi sighed, knowing how close you and König were, and likely how ticked he was that Horangi had put you in danger.

“How are you?” König asked. Just dandy, cause you know it wasn’t like he just got a young soldier in his gambling debt bullshit, and led to a bunch of collateral damage.

“Fine.” Horangi said.

“Spirit was worried about you.” König said. “I was too.”

That peaked Horangi’s interest. König looked a little red in the face at that.

“I’d heard rumours about your situation. Didn’t realize how bad it was. Horangi I may not be perfect, but I don’t keep that shit to myself.” König said. Horangi sighed, looking away.

“I should’ve told her.” Horangi admitted.

“She should have taken no for an answer.” König said. Horangi nodded. König stepped closer, looking unsure what else he should say.

“Just… Talk. Next time.” He said. Horangi gave him a half smile. With a pat on the giants shoulder, the two headed down the hall. “Spirit wants to see you.”

“I know she does.” Horangi said.

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[deliciousangelfestival]

Tears In His Ferrari - 10

Character: Bucky Barnes x Farmer!Reader

Summary: Bucky Barnes, used to a life of luxury, takes on farm challenges in a bet with his father. Mud-stained Ferraris and a rustic farmhouse lead to unexpected personal growth, guided by the stern mentorship of Y/N, a farmer making his city-boy life difficult.

Theme: Fluff, Slice of Life, Heart-Warming.

Main Masterlist || If you enjoy my work, please consider buying me a coffee on: Ko-fi 🙏🏻

Thank you to anyone who gave a like, reblog, and left a comment. It motivated me to write more. 

Chapters: Chp 1, Chp 2,Chp 3 , Chp 4 , Chp 5 , Chp 6 , Chp 7 , Chp 8 , Chp 9 , Chp 10 , Chp 11 , Chp 12.

Bucky's heroic story of helping Toby's grandmother and bringing her to the hospital with his red Ferrari became the talk of the town.

The next day, he went to the fresh market with Y/N's parents to buy fruits and flowers.

He was planning to revisit Toby’s grandmother. He didn’t know why, but he felt a sense of melancholy toward elders, especially since his own grandparents had passed away before he was born.

As Bucky looked at the oranges, the locals greeted him warmly, especially the elders.

One grandfather said, “Thank you for helping Toby's grandma, young man. Here's some fresh corn and potatoes for you.”

Bucky smiled warmly and replied, “Oh, yes, we should help each other.”

Another grandmother approached him and said, “Are you the Barnes kid who helped my friend? Here's an orange for you.”

The kind old lady handed him baskets of oranges, her eyes twinkling with gratitude.

Then he felt someone tap his shoulder. He felt like a big shadow towering over him. It was Thor.

Thor exclaimed, "Buddy, you were a great help yesterday. Here, I'll give you my biggest catch today."

Bucky widened his eyes in surprise. "Oh no, it's alright. Urghh."

This was the first time in Bucky's life that he carried a heavy fish.

With each step he took, someone would greet him and give him something. He had never experienced this sense of community back in the city, and he appreciated how supportive the locals were of each other.

Samanta chuckled upon seeing Bucky looking clueless. “You've become the local celebrity.”

Bucky blinked in surprise. “Really?”

“Yup. Oh, my daughter just called. Some people are at your farm.”

“That's right. I have to go back.” Bucky clapped his hands excitedly. He suspected that what he requested from his dad had arrived.

He stepped on the gas and drove fast to his place. When he arrived, he saw a few teenagers and kids standing near his house.

Y/N was also there, looking a bit overwhelmed as she guarded the youngsters from entering the house.

The truck stopped, and Bucky got out of the car.

He greeted Y/N with a smile. "What's up?"

Y/N sighed in relief. "They want to see your car, but I thought they needed your permission first."

The group of youngsters looked at Bucky with puppy eyes. In a second, he remembered being a young kid, also interested in sports cars when his dad brought him to the F1 race car. The experience was amazing, and it made him fall in love with fast cars.

As a fellow car lover, Bucky welcomed them. "It's alright. Do you want to see what it looks like inside?"

"Yeah!!" The youngsters cheered in excitement.

Bucky showed them his Ferrari car and enthusiastically explained the engine and the machinery.

Y/N observed Bucky, who looked genuinely excited. She remarked, “You've become the celebrity.”

Bucky chuckled, unable to contain his enthusiasm. “I can't help it.”

“By the way,” Y/N continued, “your father sent a pick-up truck. I didn't know you needed another one.”

Bucky's eyes lit up. “It's here? Yes! And it's not for me.”

“Then for who?” Y/N inquired, curiosity piqued.

🏥

At the hospital, Toby was speechless when he saw the pick-up truck. It looked brand new and far superior to the old truck they had to sell to pay his father's debt.

He walked around the truck, inspecting it from front to back, then turned to Bucky and enveloped him in a grateful hug. “Thank you, bro,” he said earnestly.

Bucky returned the hug with a smile. “You're welcome, buddy.”

After Toby rushed back to the hospital to share the news with his grandfather, Y/N approached Bucky. “That was really nice of you,” she remarked.

Bucky nodded, a sense of fulfillment washing over him. “I realized how important a car is for Toby. He needs it to drive his grandma and carry boxes of honey.”

With the means to help, Bucky felt compelled to use it.

Y/N smiled warmly. Witnessing Bucky's generosity and compassion, she couldn't help but admire him even more.

Bucky's generous gift quickly spread throughout the town, making him the hottest topic of discussion. Suddenly, he found himself at the center of attention, not for his wealth or status, but for his kindness and willingness to help others.

The children in the town looked up to him as a cool role model, inspired by his actions to make a positive difference in the community.

With Toby's grandmother gradually improving, and Toby himself working diligently to sell honey at markets and to local households, the spirit of gratitude and determination seemed to infuse the air.

Despite initially finding farming challenging, Bucky began feeling accepted and belonging in his new life.

Though he still encountered difficulties, he realized that the rewards of helping others and being part of a close-knit community far outweighed any hardships he faced.

Bucky hadn't opened his social media for a while since he was already busy with farming.

******

His story has also spread widely on social media. However, it wasn't Bucky who initiated it.

But who did? Of course, it was Kate. She inserted herself into Bucky's story as if she were a part of the effort to help him.

During her live session, she recounted the events with a touch of theatricality, emphasizing her own role in the act of kindness.

"And that's when Bucky and I sprang into action," she exclaimed dramatically, her eyes sparkling with manufactured emotion. "Together, we rushed Toby's grandmother to the hospital, our hearts filled with determination to make a difference!"

Her viewers were quick to shower her with praise, captivated by her portrayal of a compassionate and selfless individual.

"You're such an inspiration, Kate!"

"Wow, I had no idea you were so involved in charity work. You're amazing!"

"Thank you for using your platform to spread awareness and help those in need. You're truly making a difference!"

With each compliment, Kate's smile widened, basking in her audience's admiration as she skillfully crafted her image as a philanthropic icon.

She kept smiling as she scrolled through the comments until she noticed someone mentioning "What about Y/N?"

Kate's smile faltered, and she let out a sigh.

"What's wrong?" inquired one of her viewers.

Kate sighed again. "Well, we only know what people choose to show us on the outside, not what's really going on behind the scenes."

The viewers were intrigued. "Is this about Y/N?"

Kate hesitated, then replied cryptically, "I don't want to name names, but let's just say there's someone who's been quite influential in Bucky's life, and it's had some unfortunate consequences for my brother."

"Your brother, the celebrity chef Paul?" another viewer asked.

"He can't cook anymore because of a car accident, right?"

The comments continued to pour in, each one adding to the speculation. It was precisely what Kate wanted. She leaned back in her chair, a satisfied smirk playing at the corners of her lips as she watched her fans dissect the situation for her.

Glancing down at her ruined shoes, a reminder of her unexpected encounter with the mud earlier, Kate clicked her tongue in annoyance. "Never underestimate me," she murmured to herself, a hint of determination in her voice.

🏎️

Bucky, who had been feeling clueless, had just finished cleaning up the sheep's stable. He made his way back to his house to freshen up.

Archie, the puppy, had eagerly awaited his return, wagging his tail excitedly. "Woof."

"Hey, buddy, I missed you too," Bucky greeted, bending down to pet the eager pup.

Once inside, Bucky headed straight to the sink to wash his hands, feeling the grime of farm work clinging to his skin. As he scrubbed, he couldn't help but notice his phone incessantly buzzing with notifications.

"What's going on?" Bucky wondered aloud, setting down the soap to check his phone. He was met with a flood of messages and tags from various people. Among them was a tag that caught his attention: #Y/N and Paul.

Curious, he clicked on it, and his screen filled with photos of Y/N dressed in a chef's outfit, standing beside none other than Paul, the celebrity chef who also happened to be Kate's brother.

Bucky's heart sank as he read the accompanying captions and watched a reel detailing Paul's accident, along with rumors suggesting that it wasn't him driving the sports car, but rather a woman whose name was still unknown.

His thoughts racing, Bucky was startled when he heard a familiar voice behind him. "Here's the dinner."

He nearly jumped out of his skin, turning to find Y/N standing there, a concerned expression on her face as she looked at him. "What's wrong?" she asked, noticing his troubled demeanor.

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Author Note: Hey friends,

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[simmerandwrite]

Sink Into Me - 07 - mob!Steve Rogers x plus size!reader

Pairing: mob boss! Steve Rogers x plus size! reader

Summary: You were simply doing a good deed, pulling the handsome stranger out of the way when a car jumped the curb. Little did you know that the life you saved belonged to Steve Rogers, the Army veteran turned art dealer with connections to the Brooklyn crime syndicate.

Steve Rogers, who won’t stop calling you his guardian angel.

Steve Rogers, whose new goal in life just might be repaying his debt to you.

Steve Rogers, who isn’t shy until it comes to his feelings and will stop at nothing to keep you safe.

Chapters: 01 02 03 04 05 06  07 08 09

Wordcount: 7.9k

Warnings: some violence in this one, vague references to drugging at a club (not to reader), feelings

Notes: thank you for your patience, beautiful people!! let's goooo.

---

If Steve looked inward for more than a spare second, he could unpack the heavy feelings that sat on his chest. But, he wouldn’t allow himself even that miniscule moment in time to think. Instead, it suddenly made way more sense to throw himself into work - from selling buildings to working on art curation to all the dirty things he did behind the scenes. If he wasn’t working, he was sleeping or working out or drinking at Shield. 

On this particular day, he was taking care of new business.

“What did we fucking say about selling this shit in Brooklyn?”

Steve almost felt bad for the guy he was slamming his fist into. Steve had absolutely broken his nose, maybe cracked his jaw. 

But, Steve had the upper hand here. The shithead was tied up to a metal chair, in the basement of one of Steve’s oldest properties. 

Thor had picked the guy up selling products near Brighton Beach. It was the third idiot working for Rumlow that had been caught crossing boundaries and pushing their new formula. It was one thing to not converse with Steve and confirm his cut. It was another to prey on high school kids. 

Steve reached for the guy's collar. “Do you need a reminder?”

He growled under Steve’s fist. “Your precious kingdom is going to crumble.” The man sucked in a breath and leaned forward, spitting a mournful of blood at Steve. 

Although electricity was climbing through every inch of Steve’s body, he remained stoic. Slowly, he wiped off the remnants of blood from his neck and shirt. Then Steve took in a sharp breath and delivered a kick to the man’s chest, sending the chair stumbling backward to the ground. With a clap of his hands, he turned around and pointed at Thor and Bucky. Both men were watching from the doorway of the dingy basement. 

“Call your brother and tell him to peel this man apart for information about Rumlow’s operation.” Steve planted a hand on Thor’s shoulder. 

“I’m on it, boss. But Loki will want cash and—”

“Pay him whatever he needs.” Steve finished off, confirming with a nod before leaving with Bucky. “Make sure he gets rid of the body afterwards.”

Bucky remained silent as he followed Steve up the stairs, matching his pace as they headed towards an awaiting car outside. It wasn’t until they were well on their way back to the club, in the thick of traffic that Bucky spoke up. 

“You good?”

Steve, who had been staring out the window, turned his head back to his friend. “I’m fine.”

“Because usually you let the boys get dirty.” Bucky pointed out the remaining marks of blood that littered Steve’s chest. “And calling in Laufeyson..”

“I want to clean up this fucking mess that’s found it’s way into our streets, Bucky. Don’t you think I know what I’m doing?”

“Of course I do, you idiot. Don’t fucking yell at me, too. Christ. You’re wound up because you made a mistake. Don’t take it out on us.”

Steve didn’t even bother replying. Because Bucky was right. 

Steve was angry. At himself. 

--

God, you were grateful for your friends. If you didn’t have them in your corner, you knew that everything with Steve might have sunk you down way further than you wanted. In fact, you knew damn well that if you let yourself slow down and think for a few minutes, the pain you had been so easy to dismiss might come roaring back to life.

But, there wasn't time to slow down. Not when your evenings became a delicate balance of work, walking Hercules then meeting up for some sort of exciting activity in the city. 

Pietro certainly had a penchant for finding fun things to do. Somehow he had a better pulse of the city than you and your friends who actually lived there. Your group chat was constantly buzzing with suggestions about markets to check out or special nights at certain bars or clubs or after party events with Pietro’s coworkers. 

It was a welcome distraction most days. But other days, all you wanted to do was have a pity party on your own. Even though you knew you deserved better than the way Steve had called things off, part of you kept wondering about how it all played out. One night after a night out with your friends and one too many glasses of white wine, you had gone into a deep, dark Instagram spiral.

Steve himself didn’t have any kind of personal social media presence. But someone managed one for his gallery and another one for Shield too. You scrolled through every post for a glimpse of him and every time some version of him showed up in a photo, your heart got a little more cracked open. 

Once you made it through the entire main feed of images, you dug deeper. The tagged photos for Shield had plenty of activity, including a recent slew of images from a weekend event at the club. One photo had Steve in it - you were sure, though he wasn’t facing the camera. It was in the background of some beautiful brunette’s photo and you knew it was upstairs in one of the VIP areas of Shield.

You were going crazy over it. Why did he have to end it the way he did? How come you didn’t get any other conversation or closure over the whole thing?

After a long day at work and an extra long walk home with Hercules, you had decided it was time for a night in. Thankfully you hadn’t heard any activity in the group chat all day, so you were very much looking forward to some time on the couch with your favourite bowl of pasta. 

Just as you got home, a crack of thunder sounded out and you knew a summer storm was imminent. You wouldn’t consider yourself someone who romanticized the rain - in fact, you hated thunderstorms. Since childhood you had connected storms to danger and darkness, and although now you were at home safe in your own apartment, you had never felt more alone and unsettled.

You remedied the uncomfortable feelings as best as you could - quickly calling your mother to talk while you made dinner. And when you had finally plated your food, you dropped onto the couch with Hercules and sent out an SOS to the group chat.

Claire was at work. Maria was at home uptown in Manhattan, waiting out the storm. And Wanda revealed she was out on a date with Vision, hiding out from the rain at some lavish restaurant uptown.

You groaned. Your lights flickered.

In an attempt to calm down, you tried to lose yourself in some reruns of your favourite show. It wasn’t working very well - especially with an anxious Hercules at your side who was not enjoying the storm outside, either.

Looks like you had to be the strong one, for the sake of your son.

“We’re gonna be okay, buddy,” you cooed as you cuddled in close to Hercules. “This storm shall pass or whatever.”

Your moment of wisdom was cut off when your phone started to buzz on the coffee table. You picked it up to see Pietro’s face on the screen.

“Hello?” You answered.

“Hey!” He called out on the other end of the phone. You could hear the rain. “I’m a block away. Please tell me you have dry towels?” 

You stood up and shook your head, confused. Had you made plans that you forgot about? Most weeknights Pietro was at the restaurant until close and–

“Wanda said you hate storms and we lost power at the restaurant. So I’m coming over to hang! I have desserts.”

He didn’t even let you argue, doubling down on the rain and how he wanted to hang out. It was strange though - of course you considered Pietro your friend, you just had never hung out one on one before. You hadn’t really assumed you were friends like that - moreso that you were friends with Wanda and he came along with that transaction. But you really enjoyed being around him. Pietro’s extraversion benefited you regularly and well, you definitely did not want to be alone in the storm anyway.

You greeted Pietro at the door with a dry towel, although his was in good spirits despite his damp clothing. 

“You didn’t have to come over,” you told him as you unpacked the paperbag he had brought from the restaurant. “I’m surviving.”

“Sure. But who else can I talk to about this boring philosophical PhD my sister is dating again?” Pietro flashed you his signature charming smile, peeling off his wet sweater and following your arms to toss it in your dryer. “What kind of name is Vision anyway?”

“I only met him once or twice,” you replied with a small smirk. “They really hit it off - though she never said why they had ruptured in the first place.”

“Well, as her older brother, I’m cautious. I deserve to know about the guy, it’s giving me even more grey hair to think about her dealing with some dumb man.”

You laughed. “Aren’t you like - 10 minutes older?”

“Twelve, actually.” He turned and headed back towards the counter. “This is for you by the way - packaged up by M’Baku himself.”

Glancing down at the to-go box, containing a particularly delectable slice of cheesecake, you couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow. “What?”

On more than one occasion you, Wanda and occasionally Maria or Claire had headed to the restaurant past closing to hang out while Pietro and his coworkers finished up for the evening. Mostly you sat at the bar and sipped on a cocktail while the kitchen crew finished up. A few nights ago, you had done exactly that and after the restaurant was closed, instead of heading out like you had planned, you all stayed and played cards and shared a few of the leftover dishes. Somehow, one of the kitchen staff had sat with you - the prep cook, M’Baku - and if you had been in a clear state of mind and heart, you might have thought you and him had hit it off.

M’Baku had probably even been flirting with you. But since Steve had crushed your confidence, you had a hard time believing that was possible. 

“He also asked me for your number,” Pietro added in, breaking you from your thoughts as you both sat back on the couch again. “If you want, I can text him right now and..”

You sighed. “I don’t know if I want to… do that. Date or.. Even think about dating. This is really nice of him, though.” With a glide of your fork, you grabbed a corner of the cake and smiled. “Reallllly nice.”

“You don’t have to date the guy,” Pietro countered, tipping his head to the side to meet your gaze. “Nothing wrong with having a little harmless fun.”

“Yeah, I don’t think so. Unfortunately, I was not blessed with a harmless fun gene, unlike you and Wanda.” You nudged him with your elbow. “The cheesecake is great though. Tell him thanks!”

---

“Are you sure this outfit is restaurant soft open slash after party appropriate?” 

Wanda rolled her eyes at you in the mirror, shooting you a smile. “Piet said it was casual. Don’t overthink it.” She finished off fixing her lipstick and turned. “You look great.”

Now you were rolling your eyes. You had picked out a casual summer dress to combat the heat, but you still weren’t sure. You wouldn’t admit it out loud, but after everything with Steve, all your confidence and self esteem hadn't really recovered. The way he had talked to you with such promise and excitement about your body, only to… 

No, no. It wasn’t fair to do that to yourself. You had to try and let it go. You had a fun night ahead.

Although your exciting social lives had slowed down a bit, Pietro still managed to talk you into some after work activities. On this particular Friday, you and Wanda were meeting up with him to visit some new restaurant that had recently opened. Surprising to no one, Pietro had befriended the guy who supplied their restaurant all their alcohol and the guy had gotten Pietro an invite to some soft opening event. Pietro and a few plus ones, even.

You slipped into your shoes and watched as Wanda finished pacing around her apartment gathering her things. “Where are we going anyway?” 

Wanda glanced down at her phone. “He just sent me the location - somewhere in Bedstuy I guess. C’mon, we can get the next train.”

When you got off the subway and started towards whatever address Wanda was following in her phone, a weird little twist of discomfort swirled in the pit of your stomach. No, it couldn’t be possible. Sure, you were in your old neighbourhood. And yes, if you turned down the next street on the right you’d –

“It’s down here,” Wanda tipped her head down that next street on the right.

Wilson’s Kitchen.

You slowed your feet down nearly and finally came to a complete stop before you approached the restaurant. Noooo. No. The last time you had been down this street, outside of this exact building - a car had come barreling off the sidewalk and changed your life.

You let out a silent groan, shaking your head as you saw Pietro and some people from his restaurant wave to you from outside the place.

Wanda glanced over her shoulder, reaching for your hand. “Come on.” She didn’t know all the details and you didn’t have the time or ability to explain it all now. Of course it had to be this restaurant - that Steve owned. Wilson’s… you recognized that as Sam’s last name, but wondered what the connection was?

You wanted to throw up. What if Steve was inside?

“You alright?” It was Pietro who paused as everyone else headed in before you two.

“Yeah..” You took a deep breath. “It’s a long story. Just might need some emotional support here tonight.”

He raised a curious eyebrow but gave you a pointed nod. “Okay, got it. Keep your secrets but did I mention it’s an open bar at least?”

You took a deep breath and decided that you could do hard things, you could do uncomfortable things. Steve didn’t matter! You deserved to live your own best life. You took Pietro’s awaiting hand. “Oh, lead the way then.”

-

As soon as you got inside, you were somehow taken from Brooklyn into a cool bistro from the French Quarter. Pietro gave you a quick low down on the place - a New Orleans fusion menu inspired by the chef’s upbringing in Delacroix. There was trendy exposed brick paired with iron accents and even supplemented by a generous jazzy ambiance floating through the air.

You met up with Wanda who had found a seat at the bar. The rest of the place was quite packed. Servers zipped around the room with trays of food, stopping by the bustling tables and delivering drinks to guests. There wasn’t a set menu or agenda for the evening, but you had to be honest with your friends before things got out of hand.

“Okay, Wan.” You grabbed her hand, sparing a quick glance around the room. “Steve owns this place. If you see him, please give me fair warning.”

“Wait. Who is Steve?” Pietro had planted himself behind you both, waving a hand to the bartender for a few cocktails.

“A dumb man!” Wanda summarized quickly, turning directly in her seat to scan the crowds too. 

“A dumb man I dated a while back..” You squished your face, then tried to shake away all your thoughts. “He was a jerk at the end.”

“Boooo..” Pietro threw his arm around you and squeezed. “There is still time for me to give your number to–”

“No, no.” You grabbed his hand where it sat on your shoulder. “Let’s just have fun, okay? No more thoughts about Steve.”

You had a perfectly lovely night. The food you sampled was incredible and the drinks were damn delicious. You even had the opportunity to meet Sarah, the head chef - who gushed about the evolving menu and how excited she was to have community kitchen days on the weekend to feed the neighborhood. 

“It is a great location,” you replied, pivoting slightly in your stool to speak with her. Wanda and Pietro had ducked outside for some air.  “I used to live a few blocks from here.”

Before you got any further, someone was saddling up beside her, dropping a hand over her shoulder. “Great turnout, sis.”

You offered Sam an awkward smile as he realized you two had been talking. He faltered for a second, glancing over his shoulder before finally giving you a greeting. “Oh, hey. It’s.. good to see you.” Sarah seemed to take this as an opportunity to excuse herself back to the kitchen, so you had to continue with Sam on your own.

“A friend of mine had an invite.” For some reason you felt you had to immediately defend yourself, even though he didn’t ask why you were there.

Sam let out a long breath and lifted a shoulder to shrug. “Listen, I don’t need to repeat the speech about how much of a fucking idiot Steve is.” He sighed then leaned back to the end of the restaurant. “He is here though, with a group in the back dining room.”

You tried not to give yourself away with your body language, but suddenly you felt even more on edge than you had before. You hadn’t seen Steve yet and it didn’t mean you were going to see him now. But knowing he was only a few walls away from you.. Well, it both worried you and also it seemed to stoke that weird feeling in your stomach into fiery anger.

“Thanks for the heads up, Sam.” 

“Sam! What’s the hold up? Did you get a hold of Sean?”

Then, like some stick twist of fate, a quiet commotion started out of the back room. You couldn’t help but turn on your stool again and look in that direction along with Sam.

And there, sticking his head out the door with a big grin on his face, as waves of laughter and clinking glasses sounded out behind him, was Steve. Even though you could only see part of his torso, you knew he was probably donning some sharp suit jacket and you wanted to scream.

It felt like time slowed down as you met Steve’s eyes - though he was far away, it felt like he was looking right into your soul. His jaw stilled, then snapped shut and before either of you really had a moment to process what was happening, you looked away and rushed to your feet. 

You mumbled out some rushed goodbye to Sam then immediately headed outside to find Wanda and Pietro.

They were standing near the front window - Wanda with a cigarette in one hand and her phone in the other. Pietro glanced up from his own phone when you shuffled up beside them. He raised an eyebrow at your distressed face.

You took a deep breath. “I saw Steve.”

Wanda turned and dropped her cigarette, stomping it out and reaching for your hand. “Auuugh. But you survived, babe. Shit. Are you okay? Does he look terrible?”

You just shrugged. “No, he looked great. Even from afar.” A dramatic groan left the pit of your stomach. “God, he’s the worst.”

Wanda’s phone started to buzz and she glanced from it to the street. “Ah, Vis is here. We were gonna go to.. Let me just send him off.”

“No, no.” You squeezed her hand. “Just go. I’ll call an Uber.”

“I’ll make sure she gets home,” Pietro jumped in, giving Wanda a quick side hug. “Have fun! Be safe!”

Wanda pretended to falter for a second, then threw her arms around you before darting off to the awaiting car. 

You let out another long sigh and leaned against the nearest wall, shaking your head as Pietro stepped in front of you. “I think I need to head home - but you can stay, I’ll be fine.”

He watched you closely. “I’m sorry. For whatever that asshole said to you - for you to feel this way now. You’re a catch.”

You couldn’t stop the laugh that escaped you. “I don’t think I am, but I appreciate your kindness, Piet.” Behind you both, a pair of black SUVs pulled up. They were definitely Steve’s. “Augh, I need to get out of here.”

Pietro looked over his shoulder at the vehicles, then back into the restaurant through the window. “Or.. wait. Is that his ride? He has to come out this way?” 

You could see some sort of plan was forming in his head. “What are you scheming about now?”

Pietro grinned, taking a step closer to you. “Harmless fun, my friend. Flirt with me?”

“What?” Your eyes grew wide. “We can’t. You don’t actually want to..”

“Miláčik, please. If that dumb idiot man is going to walk out here, let him see you perfectly distracted by someone else without a care in the world.”

“Piet, there are so many other girls I’m sure you’d rather flirt with.”

“No, actually. I would love to flirt with you. But my sister said I cannot date her friends and I’m going back to Sokovia in a month or so..” He took in a deep breath and stepped forward, tentatively reaching a hand out to rest on your waist. “If neither of us want to date, at least let’s..”

The door opened and suddenly, you didn’t have time to even process Pietro’s words. Instead, you wrapped your hands around his neck and pulled him as close to you as possible. And, well, he wasted no time trailing his lips against your neck as one hand wrapped around your waist. The other he used to cradle against your jaw.

“Can you see him?” Pietro whispered against your neck, his breath hot against the shell of your ear. “I don’t really care about that man but if this helps you..”

You tried not to make your shifting eyes very obvious but yes, in the large group of people walking out of Wilson’s Kitchen, just ten feet away from you - there was Steve. 

He met your eyes again, extending his arm for someone else to get into the car before him. But this time, you didn’t look away. Instead, you scratched your hand against Pietro’s neck and laughed.

Time slowed down again as Steve eventually tore his eyes from yours, ducking his head to get into the back of the vehicle.

You squeezed your eyes shut as the cars finally pulled away. 

With a firm pat, you tried to bring Pietro back to earth. He lingered close enough to you that your lips were nearly touching. He grinned. “Sorry if that was too much.”

“It was..” You relaxed your shoulders and leaned back again, resting your forehead against Pietro’s. “..exactly what I needed.” A silly shield, a defensive mechanism against Steve.

He laughed, quiet. “Good. I’m glad. And is there anything else you might need tonight?”

“Just someone to get me home safely. And maybe..” Leap of faith, leap of faith. “We flirt some more. At home. On my couch.”

-

You knew you were making a choice. God, when was the last time you had been the one to suggest going to a club on a Saturday night? You could practically hear Maria rolling her eyes on the other side of the phone, but you knew she’d be on board. Claire was immediately into the plan too, and it only took a few more minutes to get Wanda and Pietro in on the event.

And the fact that you suggested Shield, of all places, as your location of choice. Well, that was just a coincidence. If Steve happened to be there, then so be it. It had been months now since you’d broken up and a few weeks since the night at the restaurant, and you knew it was time to move the fuck on. You could go places that Steve might be at. You’d be fine.

It didn’t make you any less nervous, though. The idea of running into him wasn’t exactly something that thrilled you. What if you saw him with another girl? That would hurt. Or worse, what if he just… 

No, no. This wasn’t about Steve. This was about taking yourself back and leaving him behind. 

“Okay, the Uber will be here in four minutes!” Pietro loved being the motivator and sometimes it meant very bad decisions. In this particular instance, it meant one last shot of sour raspberry liqueur before you got to the club. 

You cheers’d your friends, taking one last glance in the mirror by your door and calling out your goodbye to Hercules as you all clambered to the front lobby. 

“You look amazing, did I tell you that?” Claire nudged you with her arm as you lingered outside. “You’ll drive him crazy.” You just laughed, letting the buzz of the alcohol overtake you like a warm blanket. She was right - you did look good. The dress you picked was definitely in your comfort zone but it showed off everything you wanted on display. And your hair had fallen exactly where you wanted it to.

You looked hot. 

Steve Rogers, eat your heart out.

When you got to the front of the line at the club, you immediately regretted the entire plan. And when you met the eyes of the bouncer at the door, Luke, who greeted you with a big smile, you wanted to run in the opposite direction.

“Nice to see you, sunshine,” Luke greeted as he handed you back your ID. “Have a fun night. Don’t get into trouble, alright?”

“That man is a brick house,” Claire laughed, looking over her shoulder back at him when you got inside. “I’d like to know everything about him.”

“Stop that,” you laughed as you looped your arm with hers, following behind Wanda, Pietro and Maria who were heading towards the bar. “He works for Steve.”

“Of course,” Claire nodded, as her grin grew even louder. “You’ve gotta get me in touch with that man later, please.”

“What about Matt?” You couldn’t stop yourself from laughing too as you pushed your way closer to your friends as they got to the bar.

“Off again, currently.” Claire sidled up beside Pietro and waved towards the nearest bartender. 

Luckily, you didn’t see Kate or Yelena behind the bar, so you’d be saved from those interactions. Instead, the bartender was someone you didn’t recognize and thankfully they didn’t even look twice at you as Pietro passed out the newly poured drinks. Once you were all sufficiently back into the tipsy but edging on drunk mood, the dance floor was your destination.

God, Pietro was fun. You didn’t have any regrets about how things had gone this summer, that almost whatever that didn’t happen after the restaurant quietly dissipated. Okay, you did make out hard that night - but then you pulled back and sent him on his way home. And the best part, it hadn’t been weird afterwards. You went back to normal, as friends, and you couldn’t have been more grateful for his distraction. Maybe in another life where he actually lived on the same continent as you - things could have been different. But if you thought too hard about it, you also knew you had just been using him to not think about Steve. And that wasn’t fair either. So instead, you decided that having platonic male friends was okay. And if Pietro wanted to dance with you, that’s all it had to mean. 

And Pietro loved to dance.

It wasn’t hard to lose track of time on the dance floor - occasionally a pair would head back to the bar and deliver shots or drinks, but you all mostly sang loud and danced hard. God, your friends were fun - it was mostly a comfortable environment in your own little bubble and the only hands that landed on you were usually from Claire or Pietro. 

You did check in with the real world - glancing around the room to be aware of your surroundings and on more than one occasion you glanced up towards the VIP areas upstairs. 

And although you were trying not to give a fuck about Steve, when you saw him up there standing near the railing, your heart jolted. The view was brief as he stepped away, probably heading to the upstairs bar. 

“Fuck that guy!” Pietro yelled out, pulling your attention back down. 

“She already did,” Claire announced with a big laugh, planting a kiss on your cheek. “You know the only good way to get over him is to get under someone else.”

You laughed along and threw your arms over your friends. Maybe that was true but finding someone to date seemed absolutely awful. Dancing was easier, you didn’t want to think about Steve or dating or anything. 

Suddenly, the back and forth about getting over Steve disappeared. Just a few feet from where you all were dancing, you had a feeling something bad was happening. Your mind was racing as you watched some brute of a man holding up a young girl, helping her walk out of the busy crowd. But it didn’t feel right - the way she tried pushing away from his chest, head lolling to the side. 

“Hey!” Reaching for Claire’s hand, you searched the nearby area to see if anyone else could see what was happening. 

Claire followed your eyes and frowned. “Shit.” She pulled ahead from you and sprung into action. 

“Pietro!” You turned your head and grabbed his shoulder. “Go find a bouncer, fast!” Though you could see he was confused, he nodded and rushed away. 

You caught up with Claire, who was trying to gently get the girl away from the larger man. “Hey, honey. Hi. Do you know this guy?” 

“We’re good here, leave us alone!” The man barked at Claire. “She’s fine. We’re heading out.”

You shuffled over, trying to put yourself between them as Claire tugged the girl away. You reached your hand out to stop the guy from coming closer again. “Leave her alone!”

“Where am I..” The girl mumbled as Claire helped her to stand, moving her hand up to try and steady the girl as Claire looked in her eye. 

“It’s okay, you’re okay. Do you know that guy?” Claire asked. The girl shook her head. 

A loud snort came from the man. “Jesus Christ, she just agreed to come home with me.”

As he tried to move towards her again, you pressed a hand against his chest to stop him. “Get away from her.”

“Stay out of it, you fat bitch!” He pushed you away, backwards into the crowd as he rushed towards Claire and the girl instead. 

Maybe it was the alcohol surging through your or just your general rage at the male population, but as you found your footing once more, you just went for it. Although the entire scene was turning into a spectacle, you hurried forward and yanked on the guy's shoulder to stop him. 

With a snap of his neck, he turned towards you and growled. “Jesus Christ, don’t you know when to quit?” He grabbed your shoulder then stomped down, smashing his boot onto your foot. “Dumb fucking bit—”

This time when he pushed you back, you landed against someone’s chest. No, someone was pulling you away. 

“Hey, hey - take it easy!” 

Steve. 

Ahead of you, more chaos was unfolding. Sam and Bucky were suddenly fighting the man through the crowd, fists flying as they shouted. Pietro had reappeared with Luke, immediately rushing both Claire and the girl through the bar to some back room. 

“Are you okay?” Steve’s voice came from behind you. His arm was wrapped around your shoulders and shit, were you shaking?

“Hands off,” you finally replied, pulling away from him. He immediately dropped his arms, holding his hands up in defense. You took a step forward then hissed in pain

“Fuck.” You glanced down at your foot, though you could barely see it in the dark lights of the club. It fucking hurt though. 

“Let me help you,” Steve shifted and offered a hand to you. “Please.”

You strained your neck to try and find Pietro or Maria or Wanda, but they seemed to have disappeared too. Begrudgingly, you accepted Steve’s arm under yours as you limped away from the dance floor. 

-

Even if Luke hadn’t messaged Steve to report that you were waiting in line outside, Steve would have spotted you in the crowd. 

Because it was you. 

Your entire being had left an imprint on him and he couldn’t stop himself from searching any crowded room for you, still. Months had gone by since he had hit self destruct but he couldn’t get you off his mind. 

Even though Meredith Russo had been hanging off him throughout the night, Steve’s radar remained on you. Especially whenever anyone got close to you, including that silver haired dude. The way he danced against you, how he made you laugh and blush - it drove Steve mad. He was certain it was the same guy who had his hands all over you outside the restaurant too. Fuck, he hadn’t like that that either.

He considered, briefly, just leaving the club and heading home for the rest of the night. But the moment he saw you, something told him to stay. He did, however, try not to spend his entire night watching you from afar. Especially when he noticed one of your friends looking up towards his section. 

Instead, he focused on only watching from the balcony every now and then. Everytime he refreshed his drink, or got up to greet a guest, he would throw a subtle look downwards to the dance floor. 

Yep, there you were. Still dancing, smiling, not a care in the world. 

Fuck. 

This was what he wanted. To let you go, to save you from his world. But god fucking damnit, the pain in his chest hadn’t subsided at all. 

“Steeeeeve. Wanna dance?” 

Meredith Russo was attractive - Steve wasn’t blind. That didn’t mean he cared even a fraction about her. Yet somehow, every single time he had been out lately - with or without Billy Russo - Meredith seemed to appear too. 

“No.” He clipped his words and turned away from her at the upstairs bar. 

“Okay, how about we just cut to the chase and you take me home then? I’m tired of this game,” Meredith returned to him, planting her feet and staring him down. “You can do whatever you want to me.”

“I don’t want to do anything to you, Meredith. Excuse me.” 

He could hear her starting to respond, though he escaped her soon enough. And then, Sam was calling for his attention from near the staircase. “Steve, come here!”

Steve followed Sam’s pointed hand and realized something was unfolding downstairs on the dance floor. He could see anger building in some oversized man and then there you were, in the middle of it. 

“Shit,” Steve hissed out, calling for Sam and Bucky to follow him as he rushed downstairs. Where the fuck were his security guards? Who was he paying to maintain the safety standards in his establishment if this was occurring in the middle of the room?

“Stay out of it, you fat bitch!”

Steve couldn't move fast enough. 

As they swam through the large groups of people, shouting for some sort of clearance, Steve was just praying that you’d be unscathed. 

 “Jesus Christ, don’t you know when to quit? Dumb fucking bit—” 

All Steve could see was red. The man grabbed you, pushed you, and then you were collapsing backward. 

Steve caught you just in time, gently wrapping his arm around your shoulder to pull you further away while Sam and Bucky moved ahead to deal with the brute. 

“Hey, hey - take it easy!”

You were shaking in his arms, high on adrenaline and liquor as the scene calmed down. 

“Are you okay?”

You stilled immediately, pulling away from him. “Hands off!”

Steve relented without hesitation, letting you go and watching as you stumbled forward. You winced in pain as you stepped down on your right foot. 

“Fuck.”

Steve sighed and offered his hand to you. “Let me help you. Please.” He worried you were about to fight him too but thankfully you accepted his arm around your shoulder as you hobbled off the dance floor. 

-

Steve didn’t think he’d ever be in this position again - driving you home after a night out. But circumstances were different and following everything that happened at the club, he had insisted. Though it was clear you had your guard way up. 

After dropping off Pietro, Wanda and Maria - Claire had gone to the hospital with the young girl, accompanied by Luke - the quiet hung between you and Steve in his car. 

He hadn’t experienced silence that heavy and loud before. 

You squeaked out a quiet ‘thanks’ as your building approached, but Steve doubled down. 

“Let me help you to your door, at least. You’re limping.”

Truthfully, Steve thought maybe you should go to the ER too. That asshole had really smashed into your foot and an x-ray would probably find a fracture. Christ, he was still fuming over that entire interaction - the image of that man pushing you, yelling in your face, grabbing you.. 

How come Steve hadn’t been able to protect you? How could he let you get hurt like that?

Right. Because it wasn’t his responsibility. 

Fuck. 

“Fine,” you begrudgingly agreed to his suggestion. The silence continued otherwise as Steve guided you to the elevator, then in the direction of your apartment. 

Once you fished out your keys from your small purse, you managed to get the door open. Hercules was eagerly awaiting on the other side. 

Steve saw your full body sigh. 

He swallowed hard, waiting outside the doorway still. “I can take him out, if you’d like.”

You avoided his eyes but nodded. “Sure. Thanks.”

Even just spending time outside with Hercules caused Steve’s heart to ache all over again. He thought he had suppressed it all - channeling all his complicated feelings until nights out and all his unrelenting rage into his fists. And yet, they bubbled up again without warning just at the sound of your voice. 

God fucking damnit. 

When he returned to your apartment, with a slow, sleepy pup at his side, he contemplated his next move. He knew he should probably just let Hercules back inside and go. But, he was a sucker for punishment. So, he cautiously opened the door and called your name.

Hercules, freed from his leash and collar, bounced towards your bedroom. Steve stepped to the side and peeked through the open door. You were laying flat on your bed, changed into pajamas. He sighed again, retrieving an ice pack from your freezer and moving towards your room.

“You should ice your foot,” he said slowly, offering you the compress. 

You stuck your hand out for him to hand it off, then rested it on your foot without a word. He retreated back towards the door and waited.

Finally, you spoke. “God, I wish I was still drunk.”

Steve let out a breath. “And why is that?”

“Because I have a thousand things to say to you but..”

Steve waited to see if you’d carry on your thought but instead you fell back deeper onto your pillows. He glanced up to the ceiling then took a step further into your room. 

“It’s after 2AM now.” He leaned against the doorframe. “Honesty Hour.”

You let out a dry laugh. “Sure. Go ahead, you start, I guess.”

“Uh, how come you aren’t spending the night with your boyfriend?”

This time your laugh was a lot deeper. “I don’t have a boyfriend, Steve.”

“That silver haired guy?”

“Wanda’s brother. Just a friend. Not that it matters.”

He knew he should keep his commentary to himself, but Steve couldn’t resist. “You let all your friends touch you and dance with you like that?”

You sat up. “That’s none of your business. And at least he danced with me. Unlike you.”

Steve drew in a sharp breath. “Okay, I deserve that.”

You sighed, shifting in your bed to meet Steve’s gaze. “Yeah. You do. The worst part about this entire thing is I feel like I gave you a lot, you know? I was honest and still tried to make it work but you just.. you were mean, Steve.”

He took a step towards your bed. God, he wanted to crawl in beside you. No, those days were long gone. “Sweetheart, I..”

“You were mean. I thought you were different but fuck. It’s funny - Bucky and Sam told me how much of an idiot you are! Like they felt bad, apologetic even. Isn’t that fucked up? But youuuu. You just blocked my number and moved on and you didn’t even say sorry. I fell in love with you! And you didn’t even… God, did you care about me at all? Was this just a big joke to you?”

“Of course I care about you. It’s just.. it’s complicated. My life is complicated, okay? I can’t.. we can’t..” He stepped back again, dragging a hand down his face. “I am sorry.”

“Yeah. Whatever.” With another frustrated groan, you laid back again and turned away from him. “I guess this is the end. So, have a nice life, Steve.”

He wanted to drop to his knees and apologize again, to get at least one last look at you but Steve knew it was too late. 

-

When you woke up the next morning, the entire evening felt like a dream. But as you stepped off the bed and your foot radiated in pain; it all came flooding back.

Shield, drinking, dancing, Steve, the helpless young girl, Steve, that piece of shit stomping on your foot, Steve driving you home, Steve letting out Hercules, arguing with Steve... Steve… Steve Steve Steve

Of course, I care about you. It’s just.. it’s complicated.

Have a nice life, Steve.

You groaned, very slowly throwing on enough clothes to venture outside with Hercules. The more pressure and time you spent standing on your foot, the worse it felt. When you checked in on the group chat and let them know you were alive, Claire insisted you visit her at work to get your foot checked out.

Given how desperately you needed to unload about what happened with Steve, you put yourself together and headed to the hospital.

“Okay, here’s the update. The tech owed me a favour so this one was on the house.” Claire had been a saint and since you were somehow visiting her on a slow morning after her own late night, she had managed to get you through all the paperwork quickly. “The x-ray just showed a teeny tiny fracture. So a tensor and taking it easy should suffice but let’s get the official prognosis.” She stuck her head into the nearby hallway and called for a doctor, by first name. 

God, you appreciated her.

Claire’s doctor colleague confirmed what she had said and advised on rest, ice and Tylenol. If it got any worse, you could return for a cast.

“Maybe just a short walk for Herc tonight,” Claire said with finality, flipping the chart closed and dropping into the chair beside the bed. “Now, I have a ten minute break and need to know what the hell happened with Steve last night. He drove you home?”

Although you couldn’t bring yourself to tell Claire every single detail, it felt good to say it all out loud. Maybe you could sense a fraction of remorse in Steve, but it still left you with such an upsetting feeling. Why was he so curious about who you were dating or not dating? It didn’t matter to him anymore. 

It was bittersweet to think that your actions with Pietro had impacted Steve so much. Not that you needed him to be jealous but it reminded you he was human still. 

Of course I care about you. 

As you made your way back down to the exit, passing through the emergency room and through the main reception of the hospital, someone called your name. The voice was strangely familiar and when you clued in to who it was, your heart sank.

“Sarah! Hi.” You paused at the set of chairs near the door, giving a small awkward wave to Sarah Rogers as she stood to say greet you. “It’s nice to see you.”

“You too, sweetie.” She pulled you into a hug and you wanted to melt into the floor. God, how could a woman so sweet raise a son like Steve? Well, no. Maybe that wasn’t a fair question. Before that awful phone call, Steve had proved himself to have traits just like his mother - headstrong, considerate, protective. Damnit. Why did things have to turn out the way they did?

You gave her a soft smile, doing your best to dismiss your plethora of confused thoughts. “What are you doing here?”

“Oh, I volunteer in the palliative ward on the weekends. Usually just a couple hours in the morning.” Sarah motioned to the chairs and invited you to sit. “Do you have a second to talk?”

-

You were running late leaving work - again. God, your boss had been relentless with our workload lately. Gone were the exciting after work adventures from summer. As the fall creeped in and your list of projects grew, you had a feeling more late nights at your desk were in the future. Really, after that night at Shield a few weeks ago, you had pulled yourself back immediately. It had been a while now since you’d done anything beyond a Saturday at the market - which was probably good for your foot, at least.

And now, to make matters worse following your frustrating day at work, there was a thunderstorm in the forecast again. And considering Pietro had just left to go home earlier in the week, you weren’t sure who would be coming to your rescue this time.

You made it to the doggy daycare just minutes before they were closing, apologizing profusely to the girl at the counter as you collected Hercules. When you made it outside and started your walk, you planned out exactly how the rest of your night was going to go: shower, fresh pajamas, ordering in from your favourite Indian place - if they were still open, you needed to check your phone for their hours and–

“Ooof.”

Somehow, only a block before your building, you walked straight into a brick wall of a person. As you mumbled out an apology, you realized it wasn’t just any person, given the hanging tag around his neck. Although he wasn’t in a full patrol uniform, you could see it was someone from the NYPD.

“Oh, I’m so sorry, officer. I wasn’t watching where–”

When he cut you off, reassuring you by saying your name out loud, you narrowed your eyebrows. Wait. What? Why did this officer know who you were? Had he been waiting for you on your route home?

“How do you know my name?” You squeaked out, gripping Hercule’s leash in one hand and your phone in the other. You darted your gaze down to your phone, trying to unlock it.

The man reached out and hit the backside of your hand, sending your phone up and out of your hand. Then, he caught it with a grin. “We need to talk about Steve Rogers.”

--

CHAPTER 05 - CHAPTER 08

[mad-maximoff]

𝐃𝐨𝐧’𝐭 𝐂𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐌𝐞 𝐁𝐚𝐛𝐞

Summary: Don't call her babe, under no circumstances.

Warnings: Language, light bondage, gentle dom, soft choking, fingering, edging, denial, oral

Word Count: 1,949

"Who...in the fuck are you?" The statuesque blonde cocked her head violently around her shoulder. Her heavy silver chain hit her collarbone.

"My name's Mazzy. I'm from the resistance. You need to come with me now Barb." A much shorter woman came before the blonde whisking her hand as she led into a cellar door. Down a spiral metal staircase. "The resistance! I thought they were meeting me at the airport?!" Barb grew skeptical following the brunette. Mazzy's hair was shaved bald on either side of her skull in a short mohawk. Every orifice of her body was either covered in tattoos and piercings.

"Pfft! I thought so too. Supposedly the airport had bomb threats so it wasn't safe to fly you out. We have to take the subway." The stairs ended against a brick wall with a crater blown in the middle. "Duck!" Mazzy's hand laid on Barb's head to push her through the brick. "Watch the hair kid!" She brushed Mazzy's hand away adjusting the wild curls. "Fine, fine. We're in the last free city and you're worrying about your hair? Haha!" Mazzy brushed it off not wanting to start anything quite yet. She looked up to Barb Wire. All of the young freedom fighters did. After she took down the Congressional Council and killed Colonel Victor Pryzer she became a hero. Perhaps after this, the whole world will be free.

"I'm a hit woman with a specific look honey, I need to look the part." Her heeled boots ticked along the subway tiles. The subway system shut down years ago, so the last of the Congressional Council wouldn't find them. "Well, your hit woman days are over babe." Mazzy joked as her hips swayed along to the noise of the only subway growing to a halt.

"What did you call me?" Barb stopped behind Mazzy. She hated that sentiment. To be called 'babe' was her most hated. Barb's demeanour turned from confused to pissed in a matter of seconds. The subway cart finally drew to a complete stop opening the doors. "All I said was you being a mercenary and a bounty hunter was over." Mazzy threw herself down on a seat. Barb followed behind arms crossed over her the breast of her leather jacket. "No. The other part." Barb's leather boot tapped the subway cart floor, as the doors closed, Barb and Mazzy were the only ones in the cart. The lights began to flicker.

"What?... What the hell are you going on about?" Mazzy huffed as she slouched her back lower in her seat, widening her legs so her boots lay flat on the floor.

Barb Wire was feared by everyone, especially men who did not pay their debts. It was most often messy when she'd drag their asses back to pay their debts. Usually kicking and screaming. Her boots scraped along leaning in front of Mazzy. Her hands gripped the seat behind Mazzy as her body moved more towards her. "No one calls me Babe. You're going to have to pay for that Maz." Barb growled flipping her platinum hair behind her shoulder.

"Huh? Don't get your panties in a twist, I didn't mean anything by it. What're you gonna do? Shoot me?" Mazzy chuckled brushing off Barb's stern tone. Barb removed her hands from the backrest of Mazzy's chair as she tore open her leather jacket revealing her leather bodysuit. "Do you see a gun? I have no more ammo, besides, I wouldn't waste my good bullets on you." Barb bent down this time flicking a few strands of Mazzy's hair from her face. "You need to be taught some manners." Her boot planted beside Mazzy's body to have more leverage.

"Really now? You teach me what? To tie a corset? On the subway really?" Mazzy scoffed brushing this whole thing off. Mazzy thought Barb Wire was just playing her bluff. Knowing her reputation Barb was a very sarcastic person. The lights flickered again leaving them both in the dark for a moment. The lights came on only to see Barb untying the front of the corset with the string in hand. "On the contrary. Babe. You need to learn how to treat your leaders with respect." Barb's hands spun around Mazzys' arms tying her arms behind her back with the string. "What the hell-..."

"Shut up. You talk too much for your own good." Barb's hand laid around Mazzy's throat not moving a single finger. "And I'm going to make sure you learn a lesson." The lights in the subway cart went out again leaving them both in the dark again. Mazzy tried to free herself thinking Barb was not aware. Barb's boot scuffed against Mazzy's soot-covered blue wash jeans. Barb's body leaped onto Mazzy's lap. "Where the hell are you going?" The cart, still dark with the only light coming from the tunnel lights. Barb's hand tilted on Mazzy's neck back. As Barb straightened her back, her leather top dropped to the floor. "The fun is just starting baby." Her bouncy hair covered Mazzy's vision. Her buxom glossy red lips smacked together before landing on top of Mazzy's much smaller lips. They broke for air, Mazzy realizing her cracked lips were coated in Barb's lipstick. Maz saw before her the leader of their resistance straddling her tied-up body. Barb grinned smearing the lipstick all over Maz's face. "There. That'll shut you up." Barb lowered her hand to untie the string of her leather thong. The thong dropped to her knees only sporting fishnets. She stood up kicking the leather thong off, while her hand latched on Maz's shoulder tumbling her down on the seat. Barb unbuckled Maz's belt as she whipped it out of the belt holes. "You don't need this right? Guess not." She hummed as her body crawled on top of Mazzy.

"A?...what? This is your interpretation of a lesson? A sexy strip tease?" Maz joked with little to no confidence. The fear pondered in her brain, what happened to the last person who called her babe? Mazzy stirred under the pressure of Barb's weight, while the seam of her denim jeans loosened around her waist. "You don't know how to shut up, do you? In that case, let me make you scream." Barb's hand crept under Mazzy's jeans to the plain cotton underwear under her denim. Barb's fingers swept down Maz's pubic bone when her finger finally found what she was looking for. In truth, Barb did not want to hurt Mazzy, after, they only just met a brief moment ago. Yes, she was pissed for Maz's remark but she didn't want to do major harm. She thought since they were going to be here a while, and she'd be alone on a plane to Canada when they arrived, perhaps she'd make a little fun out of it. A victory she'd call it.

Mazzy was all out of sorts. She felt drunk even though she didn't drink a drop. A daze; perhaps she hit her head on the way down. Her emotions were out of wack as well. Fear, confusion, even lust. She would never admit she was horny as hell. Yes, Barb Wire is an attractive woman. Especially a gorgeous blondes hovering over her the likes of the infamous Barb Wire.

Her index hovered finally in contact with Mazzy's pulsating clit. Maz's body jumped under Barb's with a muffled noise. "Awe aren't you cute, whining like a little puppy? Come on puppy, let me hear you." Barb switched holding herself up to lay her hand across Mazzy's throat. Her digits curled around Maz's skin piercing sharply. Barb's middle finger crept lower to her center diving deeply into Maz's slickly coaxed fold. Mazzy's stifled noises echoed through the subway cart erupting more loud than metal hitting the rails. Maz's moans were jagged under the blonde. Barb's grip around Mazzy's throat tightened. Not in a hurtful sense, in a sense in which Mazzy feels the most pleasure possible. She had no reason to kill or hurt Mazzy. No personal or finacial gain. Just a thrill.

"Oh-..." Maz's head was spinning. Either from the subway moving or Barb's grip. As Barb began to thrust her middle finger her thumb drifted over the brunette's clit. Barb, smiling ear to ear, bent her head locking her lips to Mazzy's. Her grip still slightly loosened. All of Barb's signature red lipstick smeared across Mazzy's lips. Her tongue locked with Mazzy's briefly without any hesitation to continue the long and rather sloppy mess they both were in. Barb's lips let go raising her head. "Fuck...you keep doing that and I might bring you with me." Her finger twitched inside Mazzy as her thumb circled her erect clit like it was a tiny button. Maz felt the instant feeling that was coming. She was. The feeling was like a rollercoaster. Making it up to the top to climax to crash down on her high. The hot bliss of Maz's core palpitated as it tightened around Barb's finger. She slipped her finger out to peer down at Mazzy's trembling body.

"P-please...Barb!" Mazzy cried out. "K-keep going..." She sighed out in the sense her high was wearing thin. "I think you enjoyed that too much." Her grip around Maz's throat disappeared trailing down her top to the hem of jeans. Both of her hands hooked on either side pulling the denim down past her ankles, over her chunky boots. "I definitely did. Though," Barb threw her platinum blonde up off her shoulders. Her body cascaded lower past Mazzy's knees. Cracking them wide open. "I know you'll enjoy this more." Maz panted, basic whines escaped her lips not fully knowing what would happen next. She had a grasp of what was going on, nothing could ever prepare her. Barb's head ducked into Maz's thighs. Maz's arms have already fallen asleep behind her back from all of her weight. Mazzy bucked once she felt the faint glide of Barb's tongue over her most sensitive area. Her nails dug into Maz's soft thighs.

"Oh god...B-Bar-" Her moan cut through the air louder than all of the others combined. "You're such a good girl." Barb hummed fluttering her tongue deeply into Maz's drenched pussy. The noises of moans and wet sloshes howled through the subway cart. Who knew two women alone could conjure such a racket. Barb's tongue flicked Maz's clit with her body tensing up. Mazzy tried to silence her moans but every breath she took in her moans grew more garish. "Who's my good girl? Huh? Is it you?"

"Y-yes!"

"Yes, what?"

"I-I'm you're good girl!" Maz spat out tilting her head back on the seat. It stirred back up inside Mazzy's being. The feeling of the rollercoaster. Climbing up to the top. Come crashing down. "Oh god!" She cried tensing every muscle in her back. Barb's nails punctured further into Maz's skin as Maz's moans vibrated the subway cart. Barb perked her bead up crawling back up to greet Mazzy's stained face.

"Haha! Now wasn't that fun?" Barb brushed away tiny strands of hair that sat on Maz's forehead, planting a small kiss in the same area. Mazzy was lost for words, she nodded not finding her voice quite yet.

The subway lights flicked back on to their orangish yellow hue. Barb loosened the strings off Mazzy's arms, reupholstering the string to her corset and thong. "Huh maybe you should join me on that plane-..." Barb's word was cut short as the cart came to a halt. The doors swing open to be greeted by a whole fire squad of the Congressional Council awaiting for us.

"Well fuck...this will be fun."

[galatially]

kendra!! imagine pietro in a western au though. he’s an outlaw that’s notorious for escaping capture for so many years. he’s so fast they give him the nickname quicksilver 🤠

JESSIE YOUR MIND!

but imagine that you're a barmaid working to settle your father's gambling debts with the sheriff in old west wyoming. despite the constant leery men and the gossiping church marms, you enjoyed working at the saloon.

when sheriff ross started having his men put up wanted posters of the man they dubbed "quicksilver", one of the working girls, sylvie, regaled you with the gossip.

"they say he hails from texas. killed his wife and sister in a blind rage when he found out she was steppin' out on him. his poor sister just happened to be at the wrong place at the wrong time."

"that ain't what happened," bruce banner, one of your regulars, piped up. "they say he comes from just a few states over. was the son of some rich fella and come back home from minin' to find his whole family dead: daddy, mama, sister. he's been huntin' the men that did it ever since."

sylvie let out a scoff. "well, did you hear about how he got his nickname? at least four states and ten sheriffs have been chasin' him for eleven years! he's always fifteen steps ahead!"

you shook your head, chuckling. "i didn't take either of you for the tall tale type."

"it's true!" bruce leaned in closer to you. "heard from a fella two towns over that the men responsible were a couple o' ross's boys: stark, rogers, and barnes."

you knew them; ruthless men that had on more than one occasion made their fondness for you more than known. steve, the leader of the trio, had told your daddy before he passed that you'd be his bride come hell or high water.

you shushed him, your eyes darting around the bar. "don't let anybody hear you! ross has eyes and ears everywhere, you know that."

"yeah, bruce, you're gon' get us all killed!" sylvia hissed.

the doors to the saloon swung open suddenly and the room went deathly silent. the stranger was well over six foot, cloaked head to toe in heavy brown leather. his heavy footfalls echoed throughout the bar, the only thing distinguishable on him were the piercing blue eyes beneath the brim of his hat.

he took the seat between bruce and sylvie, those eyes holding you in place. "an ale if you would, miss."

you nodded wordlessly, quickly getting the mug filled. "that'll be five pieces silver, sir."

ten pieces were set down in front of you. your eyes rounded.

"sir, i — "

he waved off your reply, a smirk in his eyes. "i am much obliged, ma'am." he leaned in closer. "but if i can be so candid? is it always this quiet?"

"we don't get many strangers here," you said, smiling sweetly. "what brings you rawlins?"

"oh, i have some business with a few men here. ol' friends of mine." distant shouts grew louder and the man chuckled. he knocked back his drink and spun around to face the doors. to your surprise, he said your name.

"yes?"

"how's about after i finish up with my friends here, we get out of here? montana's nice this time o'year."

you blinked. "what?"

"i got a couple friends out there that are helpin' me build a house. i'm gon' need a wife to tend to it when i'm workin' or out huntin'." he looked at you over his shoulder. "how do you feel 'bout four?"

"four...?"

"kids. two boys, two girls."

your face warmed. "now, hold on, you can't just come waltzin' in here, goin' on and on about marriage and babies, when i don't even know your name."

"sure you do, honey. ol' man ross's got my face done up all over town." your heart sank. "though, i suppose you're meanin' my christian name. that's —"

"maximoff!" anthony stark's gruff voice bellowed.

the stranger turned to face you again, a smirk deep in the corner of his mouth. "but you can call me pietro."

[witchersmistress]

the down fall of Eros

Hello my darlings!! worked on this beauty while i was on the beach today.

Trigger Warning: Swearing, Violence, alcohol, soft Sy

Word count: 2.4K

Sys pov

Dragging my feet back inside, I couldn't face the thought of being in my office not where her scent lingered. So I went to the bar and ordered a whiskey neat from Theo.

He gave me a look as I downed the whiskey and he filled the glass up again. " Boy, if you have something to say, say it. I am not in the mood for games" I drawled. He swung the rag he was wiping the bar down over his shoulder and picked up his drink and tipped it in my direction. "May I be frank with you Mr. Stone" I grunted at him and he continued. " You are a goddamn idiot" the pateron to the left of me choked on his drink as I glared daggers at Theo.   He began to wipe down the bar as he watched me " what did you say to me boy?" I sharply asked, I heard him the first time but I wanted to see if he had the balls to repeat himself. 

"With all due respect sir, you are my boss, but you are a goddamned idiot. Even a blind man could see how much you care for Rory, why else spend 100 thousand dollars on her to keep her out of the hands of that Irish prick O'Malley? She was clearly on cloud 9 when she left but you just put her in your car without a second glance, that's cold even for you boss." Draining my whiskey again he pours me another " is she really worth losing over, something she can't handle, cause let me tell you, that girl is one tough cookie, nothing could stop her or slow her down” he tossed the dirty rag in with the dirty dishes and took off with them to the back.

Looking at the bottom of the glass as if the amber liquid would hold all my answers “He’s right you know, Syverson” a dark and sinful voice purred in my ear, i turned to find Liliana standing next to me, her long dark hair cascading down her back, her warm caramel colored skin, glowing under these lights and her dark eyes looked like obsidian from this angle. I downed what was left of my whiskey, turning in my seat to face her. She was in a long white dress, a stark contrast to her naturally dark vibe she gives and as per usual, she had Bambi wrapped around her arm, with her head resting on her chest just above the swell of her left breast. Why she insists on carrying that damn snake everywhere she goes, i'm not sure but it gives her an edge that most men wouldn't dare cross and has most women bowing at her feet.

She beckoned me to follow “Come Logan, take a walk with me” I threw a 50 down on the bar for Theo, he may be a smart ass kid but he is always a wise one for his age. Catching up to Lil with ease, we walked through the club, to the seething underbelly, located downstairs. Down here, people could be who they wanted to be, from voyeurism to reverse harems, to public sex, there  was something for everyone down here. With a lot of trust, safe words and limits, the world is yours for the taking down here. I followed Lil to her dark corner of the room, she walked with such pose and grace as she sat down in her throne, with a particular young man attached to the wall by a long chain and collar.

 It wa s Mikey, my nephew, i sat across from Lil while she got comfortable in her chair with a heavy sigh i pointed at Mikey ``I'm not going to ask but be gentle he is a kid” she clucked her tongue at me “Please Logan you worry to much, besides i'm holding on to him as a debt from you beloved brother, once he pays up he can have his son back” Mikey went to protest but she pulled on his chain “ Shh my pet, the adults are talking” he quickly shut up and looked back at the floor. “He is an odd one that is for sure” she just gave me a knowing smile while stroking his hair “So why did you kick that poor girl out like she we was yesterdays trash, the poor thing was in tears as they pulled out” wide eyed i studied her “How in the actual fuck did you know i did that?” she winked at me and gestured around the room with her hands, “I have eyes and ears everywhere doll and don't you forget it” she was our silent partner in the business so she could come and go as she pleased. She was not my cup of tea but she was a fascinating woman.

“ Liliana, I have to protect her, she is my best friend's daughter and the stuff that Walter, August and I are involved in could get her hurt or worse even killed.” she scoffed and rolled her eyes, “Bullshit excuse, you and i both know that you would move heaven and earth to protect that girl, hell look at what August has done to keep Addie safe” she had a valid point, “This is Rory we are talking about'' i countered “She isn't like Adeline or Amelia'' Liliana snorted at that remark. “That is true, Amelia’s father is a damned fool if he thinks he can hide her from Walter, that man will find her and there will be hell to pay when he does' ' Mikey snorted but didn't say anything else. Leaning forward and resting my elbows on my knees.

“What can I do? I might have pushed her away for good, how can I fix  that?” she tsk tsk me like a child. “Seriously Sy? You really are a goddamn idiot, you get on your knees and worship her the way you should have, honestly boy you should have grabbed her at 18 and never let go, so you may lose your best friend but if he truly wants his daughter to be happy, he’ll come round” whatever weight that was holding me down suddenly lifted and spark of clarity came in “Thank you Lil, i don't know how to thank you” she waved me off “Anytime sugar, now go get your girl, your bike is still in the garage if you need it” bolting up the stairs and to the elevator. My phone pinged.. It was fucking Walter 

Walter: Now hold on, where is Rory and where is the damn fire cousin??

Not responding to him, I don't want to play his games. 

August: “Now now brother i'm fairly certain, he scared her off”

Sy: 🖕🖕🖕

Rushing off the elevator, I changed from my monkey suit, into jeans and a t- shirt with my leather jacket and bolted down the stairs, racing over to my bike, I started it and bolted out of the parking garage. Speeding in and out of the LA traffic, desperate to reach Rory in time. I drove into the parking garage of the hotel and made my way inside, passing the front desk. The  lady behind the desk stopped me "Mr. Syverson sir?" I turned to look at her " Yes ma'am what can I do for you?" Striding towards the desk. A slight flush appeared on her cheeks. Clearing her throat, she continued " we are giving you a partial refund for your stay, since your second guest checked out a little while and went. Poor thing she was distraught, but she had a lovely young man with her" she continued to rattle off but I stopped listening. She was gone, she had left. With another man… I had officially lost her.

Thanking the woman, I made my way to the elevators and up to the 14th floor. Trudging back to my room, I opened the door and a folded piece of paper was under my door, picking it up, I'd recognize Rory's handwriting anywhere, she loved to leave me notes as a little girl.

Sy, I'm leaving. I'll be back Monday morning to fly home but not a moment beforehand. I'm safe and that's what matters. Don't bother trying to find me, I don't want to be found especially by you. We will fly home Monday but I never want to see you again Logan Syverson. Rory

Sitting on the bed I read that note over and over again. She's gone, and I've lost her forever. Standing up, I paced, my blood boiling at the thought of her off with another man, him touching what's mine. I pick up the lamp on the bedside table and throw it across the room with a roar, punching my fist into the wall. Reaching into the mini fridge and grabbing my bottle of Jack Daniel's I chugged sip, after sip, until all I saw was a black drunken rage.

Rorys’ POV

I climbed out of the car at the hotel and made my way inside. I can't believe that I was so stupid to think that Sy would actually have feelings for me the same way I did him. He is an excellent faker. He told me all the right things, did all the right things, he played me like a cheap piano.

Making my way to my room, i grabbed my suitcase and started throwing my stuff in there, i couldn't stay in the next room to that man, my cell phone chimed and i grabbed, it was Jesse

Jesse: Hey bonita, heard you were in LA, would you be interested in getting dinner?

Rory: Loved to, i'll text you the address for the hotel im staying at.

Jesse: see ya soon 😘

I smiled and finished packing up my things, i left Sy a note a slipped it under his door not that he even deserve that much, i told the lovely woman behind the counter that i was leaving as Jesse walked in, he was 6’2, shaved head, dark eyes, plump lips that are just damn near kissable. He was in a dark button down shirt with the first few buttons undone. Black dress pants that made his ass look phenomenal, black shoes that shined, I expected nothing else from a navy man. He gave me a warm genuine smile, kissing me on my cheek as he took my bag and placed it in the trunk of his Tesla. Opening my car door for me, my heart broke a little, he is always such a gentleman. Getting in the driver's seat, he pulled away as I looked out the window as he drove, he had one hand on the steering wheel, the other one gripping my left thigh in his large hand “Bonita, talk to me” his voice was soft and gentle. I told him about what happened at Lux. he pulled into his apartment complex, he gripped the steering wheel as I finished my story. He got out of the car, grabbed my bag and he opened my door for me. “Come let's order in and watch a movie” he placed an arm around my back and made our way upstairs. Opening his apartment, I followed him inside. “ I’ll put your bag on my bed, go get comfy while I order food, your usual?” he asked over his shoulder, i followed him into his guest room, which was plain, a bed, nightstand, a mirror, and a desk. He was very simple, he believed that bedrooms were for sleeping and sex.

Valid reasons, I always thought, walking into the ensuite bathroom, I turned on the shower as hot as I could handle and went back to my bag to get my bathroom stuff. Jesse had laid out on the bed for me one of his oversized t-shirts and my black booty shorts. “This isn't a booty call Mr.” i teased as i grabbed my shower stuff, leaning against the door frame “I know sweet girl, there is time for that later” winking at me as he left the room, walking back into the bathroom, stripping off my clothes and to the hot water to commune with my demons, tried like hell to wash Sy from my skin but it was no use i could feel him everywhere. I pounded my fist on the black tile wall till my knuckles ached. A full body sob racked my chest as I slid to the floor and cried. I felt so many things, but I couldn't process my thoughts.

I felt strong arms wrap around me and pull me closer into their chest, clinging to the  shirt clinging to their chest, whoever they were, they reeked of whiskey and bergamot, jasmine and cedar. I'd recognize that cologne anywhere, looking up, I saw into the blood shot eyes that belong to one Logan Syverson. At this moment I wanted to do so many things, hit him, punch him, rip him a new one but the look in his eyes told me more than the big burly man had ever spoken to me. My anger replaced my sorrow and I got out of the shower wrapping myself in a towel and went to go find Jesse to yell at.

I was barely out the door when a strong arm grabbed me around my waist, hauling my back and slamming the door. I struggled against his hold, he let me go and I just spun around and pounded on his chest, like a child throwing a temper tantrum. “ I hate you Logan Syverson, I cursed the day I realized you meant so much to me” I continued to beat him and he just stood there and let me, my punches became slower and slower till they finally stopped. He grabbed my arms wrapping them around his neck as he picked me up and carried me over to the bed, sitting me on the edge. He pulled a t- shirt over my head and the towel before he undid the towel and dropped it to the floor. He stripped off his wet clothes and put on a pair of black boxer briefs as he pulled back the covers, scooping me up he climbed under the covers and pulled them up. Tucking me into his chest, he rubbed my back as he kissed my head. He murmured the bedtime story that he used to tell me as a little girl, as my eyes grew heavier by the minute. That last thing I heard before the world faded around me was something I never thought I heard. “ I've loved you since I can't remember when, and I'm going to love you until I can't forget how.”

[ladyloveandjustice]

I Read the Odyssey-The Liveblogyssey! (Part 3)

The Odyssey liveblog continues! See the liveblog from the beginning here.

We continue with the Odyssey!

Ino informs Odysseus of the basic fact that heavy clothes are hard to swim in (which you think he’d know as a guy who spends so much time at sea but I digress) and tells him to strip, then gives him a magic immortal veil to tie around his chest, though he’s gotta toss it back in the ocean the second he gets to shore. Odysseus, understandably, does not trust any god at this point and is pretty skeptical, but is eventually forced to try to swim.

Poseidon is like “at last you are in pain” Dude, I think he’s been in pain well before this.

Odysseus finally crawls to shore, completely naked, and goes to sleep. Meanwhile, a princess called Nausicaa (not the one from the hit Miyazaki movie and manga, but her namesake. That sadly means she isn’t hanging out with giant bugs) is urged by Athena to wander down towards Odysseus.

Wanting him to make a good impression on Nausicaa, Athena turns Odysseus super hot and buff. I’m not kidding, it says she “poured attractiveness onto his shoulders”. I love that the gods can give you a makeover. She makes him look “bigger and sturdier” and makes “his hair grow curling tendrils like a hyacinth”.

Apparently she can’t give Odysseus clothes though, so he is forced to awkwardly “cover his manly parts” with a hunk of driftwood when he jumps out to speak to Nausicaa. He considers going to beg her help by kissing her knees, but decides that a naked man grabbing her knees would probably freak her out, good call. He gives this incredibly long speech about how beautiful she is that would probably freak most people out, but Nausicaa likes it. Thus, Odysseus is introduced to the king and queen.

Everyone loves Odysseus of course, and there’s a big party. Like all cool parties, there’s a poet there, and he tells this wild story about Ares and Aphrodite’s courtship I’ve either never heard or forgotten about:

Hephaestus suspected that Aphrodite was cheating on him, so he made chains so fine they were invisible and put them around the bed like spiderwebs, so then when Ares and Aphrodite slept together, they got all trapped.

Hephaestus hollered about it, wanting his dowry back (which…apparently the gods have dowries? What did Hephaestus use to pay them? Do the gods have currency? The only thing I think they could want is sacrifices, so maybe Hephaestus paid in that. Apparently sacrifices are transferable).

 So Poseidon, Hermes, and Apollo come to see, and Hermes is all “Hephaestus, who is lame and slow, has used his skill to catch the fastest sprinter.” Wow thanks Hermes love that backhanded complement.

And Apollo and Hermes also instantly become frat boys. Apollo is like “lol lol Hermes, my brother, would you like to sleep with golden Aphrodite in her bed even weighted down by mighty chains?

And Hermes responds “lol lol I would be bound three times as tight and let you gods and all your wives look on”. Which really makes it sounds like he’s just a kinky little bastard. Had bondage been invented yet in Ancient Greece? Probably. Maybe Hephaestus accidentally invented it. The true origin.

Poseidon is like ‘are you two twelve or something knock it off” and says “Hephaestus look I know Ares is stupid, but I promise he’ll pay you back the dowry, just let him go”

Hephaestus is like “hmmm I don’t know if I should”

Then Poseidon is like "look I will pay you back if he dodges his debt. Just let him go”.

Poseidon is a surprisingly devoted uncle! He will also go all out for his son later, so I guess “devoted to family” is his literal only good point.

So Hephaestus lets them go. And Aphrodite flounces off, completely unbothered, and just goes back to her island to get oil rubbed on her by beautiful girls (yes this is how they put it). hashtag flawless.

But the poet is not just content with this silly story! He starts singing about Troy and poor Odysseus is just sitting there quietly sobbing, pulling up his hood so no one can see him. He’s doing this for MULTIPLE SONGS and the king is right there and just sits uncomfortably for a while before FINALLY saying “hey y’all how about we give the lyre a rest and play sport or something.”

But I guess Ody enjoyed all that crying and really wants to do it again, because he actually ASKS the poet for a song about the Trojan horse. Like dude you know it’s going to be traumatic for you why do this to yourself.

Homer does a MASSIVE self plug, saying this COOL poet is telling the Trojan war SO accurately it’s like he was THERE and Ody praises him more than ANYONE!!! It’s so blatant it’s hilarious.

So when the Bard starts singing about the Trojan horse and “dreadful violence” Ody and crew committed, and of course Odysseus just falls to the ground sobbing “as a woman weeps when she fails to wrap her arms around her husband, fallen fighting for his home and children. She watches as he gasps and dies. She shrieks, a clear high wail, collapsing on his corpse. The men are right behind. They hit her shoulder with their spears and lead her to slavery, hard labor and a life of pain”.

Some serious irony here, considering how Odysseus inflicted exactly this on countless women during the Trojan War. I think this was likely intentional. Homer’s a smart guy, so I think it was his aim to have Odysseus relive the pain of his many victims, as he recalls the violence he wrought. Especially since he confirms that he helped with the abduction and rape of Trojan women a few lines later.

Which, as an aside, I don’t know why people are so focused on whether Odysseus cheated on Penelope with Circe when he did something way more horrible than cheat on Penelope---he assisted in the abduction and rape of other women, and probably even participated (I think if he didn’t, the Iliad would have noted that, since it was common practice so him refusing would have been notable)! I’d be much more horrified to find my husband did than him knocking boots with a goddess. But the thing is, Penelope probably knew he’d be doing that. It was an expected wartime practice. I saw a post that “if you believe Odysseus slept with Circe multiple times you believe all men want sex all the time" and I want to be like…okay I obviously don’t believe that about men, but I can acknowledge that’s what the Ancient Greeks largely believed which greatly changes the intention of the text. Men were expected to take “war prizes” or in Sparta’s case, sleep with younger men, because there was this idea that men needed a way to fulfill their sexual appetites while separated from their wives. The war prize practice was wrong then and it’s wrong now, but when interrogating a text like this you have acknowledge the environment it was created in, what cultural values shaped it, and that there’s no way Odysseus can come out as a “good person” or “good husband” from our perspective. You can’t turn away from the practices he engaged in, you can’t wash away the terrible things he did.

Anyway. Back on topic. The king notices Odysseus is crying again and is like “whoa stop playing that song!!! this party is clearly not fun for all!”

And then he uh, quizzes Ody about his PTSD. Seems kind of rude but okay! As a result, Odysseus finally reveals his name and sits down to tell his cool story.

(as an aside Ody mentions using a knot he learned from Circe. Apparently tying knots are among Circe’s talents???)

Then we get to what I think is the most interesting thing I’ve discovered this reading this, something we never went over in high school and college. Which is that, for the portion of the story he tells, the text seems to really indicate that Odysseus is an unreliable narrator. It’s pounded in your head what a great liar he is right before he tells his story.  In face, the very last line before be begins his tales is “Wily Odysseus, lord of lies, answered”. That really seems to imply to me that parts of this story might be fabricated, possibly tailored to make him look better because he wants these people to like him and help him get home. And that’s interesting, thinking what may be a lie! Obviously all the parts with Calypso that happened before this are true, as they’re not part of the telling. And some broad facts like Ody angered the cyclops, angered Poseidon, is true as gods and other comment on it.

But what about the details? Was Odysseus as faultless as he makes himself appear, and were his men as stupid as he has them appear? I think it’s incredibly likely he might have been more to blame for some of the deaths than he lets on. Did he even beat Circe in a fight? Did he even sleep with her? And what if there are details he deliberately leaves out, or even more painful things he doesn’t mention?

It's tantalizing to think about, and it’s weird I’ve never heard of that aspect before this.

But now we've finally gotten to the parts everyone remembers about the Odyssey. As such, I think I'll go at a much quicker pace, since anyone who's has it assigned in high school knows the basics, I'll just be commenting on weird little details. Til next time!

[eden031]

Here‘s to courage

Aemond Targaryen x reader/original female character

About 6k words long

Modern! AU

TW: sexual harassment (not by Aemond though), talks of infertility

With a loud sigh she let herself fall into her chair, the light of the computer felt like it was burning into her eyes. The pounding headache was still not gone, even after taking painkillers it did not get any better. Maybe she should not have drunk that much last night, knowing that she would have to drag herself to work the next day.

„Good Morning.“ the voice of Otto Hightower brought her back to reality. He was standing in front of her, his long coat draped over one arm and the suit he was wearing looked like the newest edition to his wardrobe, a deep navy blue with a white dress shirt.

„Good Morning, Sir.“ she smiled at him, his eyes wrinkling slightly at the sides. He looked a lot more happy than he usually did. Most of the time his expression seemed to be sulking or unhappy with something, but on this particular morning he looked like a heavy burden had been lifted off his shoulders.

„How was your weekend?“ he asked, hanging up the coat on the rack. The young woman was slightly startled by the question, Mr Hightower had never been a rude employer, but he had also never been particularly interested in his employees personal life.

„Good. My brothers and I drove up north to visit family, it was nice. Both my brothers thrived on being up there again. How about yours?“ she laughed softly and shook her head at the thought of how happy her older brother had been to see their older sisters again and how good the air up north had been for her other brother‘s lungs after he had developed severe pneumonia. She could, however, not tell him about the more bitter and sad part of the weekend, which led to her thundering headache.

„That is good to hear. My weekend has consisted of the usual business.“ he waved his hand in the air and sighed softly. She knew what that meant, it meant that his grandchildren had driven him up the wall and his daughter had probably ranted about her husband and maybe his oldest grandson had even brought around his new girlfriend or even one of his many kids.

„Could you call a few people for me before the normal issues of the day come flooding in?“ he asked her as he picked up the briefcase again, which he had sat down before hanging up the coat.

„Of course.“ she held back her comment that this was exactly her job, calling people for him, taking calls for him and scheduling every event while keeping track of all the requests that came into the Mailbox during the day.

„Here is the list and what I want from them or what you have to tell them. Some calls are internal, others are external.“ he handed her a large piece of paper, which he had drawn out of his breast pocket and unfolded with one hand.

She just nodded and smiled at him, with that he disappeared into the room which was behind her office. It was not really an office, she was only a secretary after all and that meant no big office for her.

As she looked down at the list she let out a drawn out groan, it was long and a few of the names on it were not her favorite ones to call. His handwriting was neat and tidy, yet it was elegant, which made it easy to read.

Lyman Beesbury

Ask about the debt to the Lannister Banks and how much of the budget for the new project has to be loaned to the Company

Jason Lannister

Tell him that we will not be able to pay the debt back with the current interest rate, negotiate (if he is not willing to cooperate put him through to me)

Harwin Strong

Put through the list of attendees for the Gala and the current security guidelines that have to be taken into consideration for such an event

Hobert Hightower

Also put through the list of attendees for the Gala and tell him that I want him to prepare a separate account for the donations for the Gala

The list went on and on with tasks like these, most of them either relating to some form of finance or the Gala coming up in a month. With a heavy sigh she placed her head on the table, closing her eyes before looking at the last point on the paper.

Aemond Targaryen

Tell him that he will be attending the six o‘clock meeting with me tomorrow.

She rolled her eyes at that, but also felt some kind of relief. Aemond was always polite when she called and never snapped at her so at least there was something to look forward to while she was making some of the more dreadful calls on the list. With a glance at the clock she picked up the phone on her desk and started to dial the number of Lyman Beesbury. She had exactly one and a half hours before the usual rush of the day started to flood in and then she would be buried in work.

With a groan she hung up that second to last call and dropped her hands on the keyboard in front of her. She had a deep resentment for that Baratheon man, he always made disgusting comments about her and her professional relationship with Otto Hightower. She looked at the clock again, it was now almost an hour into the normal work day and she was already stacking up work for the rest of the day, making copies of certain documents, putting things away, sending Emails to different people with requests or telling them that they did not do their job correctly. One more time she picked up the phone and dialed the number of Aemond Targaryen. After one ring he picked up.

„Hello, Aemond Targaryen speaking.“ his smooth voice came through the speaker.

„Hello, Mr. Targaryen! Here is-„ she was interrupted by him.

„Ah, dear. How can I help you?“ his voice was calm and she could hear the tapping of a keyboard in the background. It always flustered her that he called her dear, but she never said anything because it did not make her uncomfortable.

„I am just calling because Mr. Hightower wants to let you know that you will be joining him for his six o‘clock meeting tomorrow.“ she waited for him to say something.

„Alright. Tell him that I will be there. I just have a quick question: who else is attending the meeting?“ he asked, the tapping in the background had stopped a few moments ago and scribbling had come into the audio now.

„Uhm…I can answer you in just one moment.“ she hacked the date and time into the calendar, which she kept for Mr. Hightower’s meetings.

„The meeting is with Ms. Rhaenyra Targaryen,“ she paused and continued to read the other names, a bad feeling settling in her stomach. „Mr. Corlys Velaryon, Mr. Vaemond Velaryon and Mr. Daemon Targaryen. As well as Mrs. Targaryen and of course Mr. Hightower." She licked her lips and waited for him to say anything. There was only the sound of his breathing now.

„Thank you. One more question; is my grandfather currently available?“ he sounded angry about something and she really did not want to know what he was angry about. She knew a lot about the problems within the Targaryen family, but by far not everything.

„Uhm, yes he is. He is in his office right now.“ she said calmly.

„Thank you, goodbye.“ Before she was able to say anything he hung up. Quickly she sat down the phone and now stared at the documents laying in front of her. With a sigh she took the stapler from the side of the desk and started to look through the dokuments, wanting to know which of them belonged together and which of them needed to be put away separately.

While she was stapling and putting away all the documents she remembered why she had such a blaring headache. It had not been a pleasant night, normally she did not drink that much, but due to her unnerving aunt she had drunk one glass of whiskey after the other and had realized too late that drinking almost three quarters of a Whiskey bottle was not a good idea. The woman had been asking about when she would get married and why she was not engaged and when they would be able to welcome more children into the family. Her aunt was particularly cruel when it came to things like these. The woman never kept it to the annoying enough questions, but always started to insult the other person the drunker she got. The best insult of the evening that had been thrown at her head had been:“defect breeding cow“, which would have not affected her as much if it was not for the fact that her Gynecologist had recently told her that the chance of her ever having children was slim, not zero but close to. She shook her head to get rid of the images and the feelings associated with that night, pushing the stapler aggressively into the paper and then putting it in the hole puncher to even more aggressively punch the holes into the papers.

Suddenly the door flew open and Aemond strode into the room. His face filled with annoyance as he closed the door behind him. Closed was the right word, he had not slammed it, he never slammed doors unlike his older brother who seemed to be always slamming doors.

„Mr. Targaryen,“ she nodded at him, her eyes turned back to her work. She did not want to bother him, especially not when he was angry about something. He smiled softly at her, greeting her and continuing to Otto Hightowers office.

After Aemond had entered, muffled voices were audible from the room, however only a mere moment later the muffled voices turned into something that sounded much more like shouting.

She tried hard not to listen to anything they were saying since it felt like a huge invasion of privacy. Luckily their voices were only muffled again after a few moments.

The young woman was not sure how long their talking continued, but after some time Aemond left the office again. He walked slowly and also closed the door gently again. Now she was finally able to get a good look at him. Aemond Targaryen was in his mid twenties, lean and had gorgeous platinum blonde hair, which shone softly. Otherwise he was also very good looking and always well dressed, on this particular day he accentuated his frame with a tight fitting, emerald green dress shirt and black slacks.

„Would you like to come to the kitchen with me and get a coffee?“ he asked her as he was about to leave the room.

„I would love to!“ she smiled softly and got up from her chair, her back aching since she had been sitting since the early morning.

He opened the door for her and let her pass, he left the room after her and gently closed the door. Together they quietly walked through the corridor.

„You have probably heard that my dear father will be hosting a Gala next month.“ Aemond broke the silence as they continued their way to the kitchen.

„I have, actually I have been making calls about that all day and sending Email out about certain regulations that have to be met.“ she chuckled softly as they turned a corner.

„Oh, well that is also good to know. At least I now know that someone competent handled the bureaucracy of the whole event.“ he said.

„Thank you, but to be honest: Mr. Hightower did a lot of the bureaucracy things, I just sent out the Emails for him and made the phone calls.“ she laughed softly.

He just hummed in what seemed like disagreement, but she was not able to place the sound combined with his nonchalant facial expression.

„Have you received an invitation?“ he asked, seeming genuinely interested in the answer.

„Oh no! I do not get invited to any events of the sort. After all, I am just a secretary that does not have that much influence. There is no need to invite me.“

Aemond looked over at her, his eyes opened wide and his eyebrows raised.

„Well, then. If you have not received an invitation yet then please see this as your invitation to the Gala, as my plus one.“ he said.

She stared at him in shock for a moment. He had seriously asked her to come to the Gala as his plus one. She took a shaky breath and swallowed the lump in her throat.

„Thank you, Mr. Targaryen.“ she said quietly.

„Aemond.“ he responded plainly.

„Excuse me?“ she asked, not quite understanding what he wanted to say with that.

„Please call me Aemond. I believe that I have told you on a few occasions already that I do not like to be called by my last name.“ he smiled softly as they reached the kitchen.

„Thank you, Aemond.“

„Have you finished up everything for the day?“ Otto Hightower asked as he exited his office. He seemed to be in a hurry to leave, which made sense since tonight was the big night in which hours and hours of planning had been invested. He probably also had to get changed since his usual plain suit would not be doing well at the Gala.

„Yes, Sir. Everything is finished, all the pile up of the last few weeks is also gone and you can go to the Gala with a good conscience.“ she smiled at him as he put down the briefcase.

„Good, good.“ he paused for a moment, „You do know that Aemond told me that he invited you as his plus one, right?“ he asked.

She felt her face heat up slightly as she looked at her hands. All the time after Aemond had invited her she had not told Mr. Hightower since she did not know what he would say, but the fact that Aemond already told him made things much easier.

„No, he did not tell me that he informed you about that.“ she laughed softly, trying to cover up how flustered she was. The older man hummed slightly, but just nodded.

„You should also leave, I believe getting ready will take you some time.“ his expression was kind as he picked up the coat and draped it over his shoulders.

„Until later.“ he said, after she also said goodbye he left, shortly after she also took all of her things and made her way home.

She took a deep breath as she looked at herself in the mirror. The light green dress was smoothed out perfectly and her hair had been done perfectly by one of her friends who worked as a hairstylist, falling loosely over her shoulders and complementing the color of the dress. For her shoes she had opted for cream colored strap heels, which blended nicely with the color of the dress. A pair of small golden hoops dangled from her ears as she took the clutch.

Aemond had told her not to worry about what she would be wearing and wear something she felt comfortable in, which turned out to be harder than she thought at first since most of the dresses she owned and already knew felt comfortable in were not appropriate for a Gala in any way. As she looked away from the mirror she glanced at the clock, it was almost time for him to come pick her up, nervously she smoothed out the dress once again and made her way over to her coat rag. It was not too cold, but still rather cool, especially since she was wearing a dress that unfortunately did not have any sleeves. Before she was able to grab her coat the bell rang and she walked towards the speaker in the wall.

„Hello, Aemond?“ she simply spoke into the microphone. For a moment there was silence.

„Yes, dear.“ as she heard his voice she pressed the unlock button for the door and went to take her coat and her clutch. She opened the door and made her way into the stairwell, closing the door and locking it behind her.

As she was about to call the elevator the doors opened and Aemond stood in front of her. She felt like someone had knocked all of the air out of her lungs. He stood there, looking like a model. His lean body was clad in a beautiful black suit with a black dress shirt, but no tie or fly. The soft platinum blonde hair was brushed back, but still hanging loosely over her back and shoulders.

„Hi.“ she whispered softly as she stepped into the elevator, almost realizing too late that she had been staring at the man.

„Hello, dear.“ he smiled softly at her as he pressed the button for the ground floor and seemed to relax.

„You look beautiful in that dress.“ he looked at her with an expression that she was unable to read. His one eye looked her up and down while the glass eye, which he had chosen to be a sapphire, shone bright in the light of the elevator.

„Thank you. You look rather handsome yourself.“ her eyes traveled up and down his figure again, the first two buttons of his shirt were opened, which made it look a lot more relaxed than it would have looked if he had been wearing a tie. At the statement he chuckled softly.

With a soft ding the elevator came to a stop, as the doors opened he stretched out his arm, signaling her that she should take his arm. Her hand landed on the crook of his elbow, making her feel like she gave up some sort of control, a fact that would have terrified her under normal circumstances, but this was different, right now she was happy that someone was guiding her.

They approached a car that was standing in one of the parking spaces in the area. It looked to be an older Porsche model, but she had in all honesty no idea what kind of car it was. Aemond opened the back door for her and she took a seat in the back of the car, putting on the seat belt, greeting the man that was sitting at the wheel. The young man rounded the car and took a seat beside her.

As the car was set in motion by the driver she looked out of the window. His voice brought her back to reality.

„I will give you a fair warning before we arrive. There will be a lot of people taking photos, especially while we exit the car.“ he adjusted his cuffs as he spoke.

„Oh.“ she swallowed harshly, knowing that that would be hard for her, she had of course expected it, but it still felt odd.

„No need to worry.“ he chuckled softly. „I will guide you. Wait for me to get out of the car, then I can help you exit.“ he paused again and studied her face for a moment. „While we are in the main hall, you can just mingle. Before the buffet there will be many speeches, they are not the most interesting, but you will be able to pass the time. Afterwards it is just food, polite conversation and dancing.“

„Thank you. I am good at mingling and listening as well, that is a positive.“ she smiled softly as Aemond raised his eyebrow and looked at her with confusion written across his face.

„Well, mingling and listening is my job after all. I do not only send out emails, but make calls that need a sensible tone and an open ear.“ she smiled softly. „And if I may say so myself; I have gotten quite good at listening to people talking about things that I have no idea about.“

He laughed softly and shook his head. „Then I should keep you close since listening to the ramblings of my father‘s business partners is not my strong suit.“ There were a few moments of silence then he spoke again. „Also I would recommend you leave your coat in the car as well as the bag, there will not be many places to hang it and things can easily get lost at these Galas.“

„Oh, alright.“ She began shrugging off her coat, knowing that the hall which they had booked for the Gala was only a few minutes away from where they currently were. A slight shiver ran through her body as she felt the warm coat leave her body. Only shortly after she pulled it out from beneath her and folded it on the middle seat.

„I have never seen someone take a coat off so elegantly while sitting, even my dear my mother is not able to do that.“ he laughed and shook his head in amazement.

„It comes easier when you spent most of your childhood in a car. You actually learn to do a lot of things while in a moving car.“ she laughed softly.

The short rest of the drive was spent in silence. The car pulled up beside the hall and stopped at the height of a red carpet. Smoothly the driver reached for her coat and clutch and put it on the passenger seat before Aemond opened the door. As he did so she heard and saw the flashes of cameras going off. Waiting a short moment she scooted over and also got out of the car, taking Aemond‘s hand in the process. The only thoughts on her mind were to keep your legs together while getting out of the car and your hand on the neckline of your dress. Luckily, she exited the car smoothly and without issue.

As she stood securely Aemond offered her his arm again, she took it and they began to walk. She smiled softly as they made their way to the entrance of the hall. The flashes of the cameras were truly blinding and she was happy that Aemond seemed to be so confidently strudding towards the entrance.

It became apparent immediately that they entered the building since the flashes stopped. She took a deep breath and looked up at Aemond, looking to find some kind of reassurance, which she also found: he wore a gentle smile and nodded at her. They continued into the main room of the hall and she again felt like someone knocked all the air out of her lungs.

The ceiling was made of glass and shimmered softly, but the most impressive thing of the whole building was the massive chandelier, which was hanging in the middle of the ceiling. It was made of glass and what seemed like crystals, the light cascading down from it made the room feel like a scene from a fairy tale. This feeling only intensified as she looked at the people in the room. All of them were immaculately dressed as well as having some kind of regal air about them.

He moved his arm away from hers, but quickly placed his hand on the small of her back. She tried to follow his gaze, which led her eyes to a group of people with the signature blonde hair of the Targaryens.

„Come, my family is there. I think we should greet them.“ his voice was soft, yet it still carried over the muttering and talk of the crowd with ease. She just nodded and he directed her effortlessly through the crowd, people parted to let them through.

Finally they arrived at the group. She recognized a few people; Viserys Targaryen and his wife seemed to be the first to notice the pair approaching. Alicent Hightower, the wife of Viserys, was a beautiful woman with big brown eyes and a soft face, she was clad in a dark green evening gown with black heels and her hair pulled back in a slick bun. Viserys Targaryen himself was seated in his wheelchair, the suit he wore looked similar to the one Aemond was wearing, just that he wore a red tie with it. The other people were Aegon Targaryen and Helaena Targaryen, Aemond‘s older siblings, as well as Daeron Targaryen, Aemond‘s youngest brother. They all looked immaculate, Helaena wearing a golden dress with long sleeves, Aegon looked the most casual out of all of them with his white dress shirt and black slacks. Daeron wore a dark green satin suit paired with a black dress shirt and a green tie. Moreover there were Rhaenyra Targaryen and her husband Daemon along with Rhaenyra‘s sons and Daemon‘s daughters. Rhaenyra and Daemon‘s daughters, Baela and Rhaena, wore black dresses with varying accents of red. Daemon in a black suit with a black turtleneck pullover and all of Rhaenyra‘s sons seemed to be matching their grandfather.

„Aemond! I knew you would bring the cute secretary!“ Aegon shouted as they approached. His face lit up as he saw his brother, she saw as much, but felt a wave of nervousness hit her as all eyes were on her and Aemond. The large family all seemed to expect her to say something.

„Good evening everyone.“ Aemond greeted politely. He let go of her for a moment to go over to his mother and kiss her on the cheek. „Mother.“

„Hello.“ she smiled as relaxed as she could, but still felt like anyone from the group would be coming at her at any given moment. Before anything else could be exchanged Aemond took his place by her side again, looking positively annoyed by the fact that his nephews were present.

„Just a fair warning Aemond, the waiters have not finished setting the table. Take care so that they don‘t get to your other eye.“ Lucerys, one of Aemond‘s nephews, snickered. She felt how his hand slit over to her hip and the grip on her seemed to get stronger.

„You should be careful as well, nephew. We do not want an accident to happen to your eye, would we?“ Aemond seemed so calm as he said it, but there was a very definite threat behind these words. She felt a lump form in her throat as hateful glares were exchanged between the men.

„No, we wouldn‘t.“ a new voice came from behind her. She turned around, looking for the person that had just spoken. It was Otto Hightower and she never felt relief wash over her quicker before. A warm smile spread across her face as she saw her employer.

„Mr. Hightower.“ she nodded at him. He looked away from both of the young men and sent her a kind smile, his expression turned stony again as he looked at his oldest grandson.

„Aegon, come. Some people want to meet you.“ his voice was stern as he said those words, clearly displeased that they wanted to meet the young man.

„Do I really have to?“ he whined.

„Yes!“ Mr. Hightower snarled, turning around again to make his way back into the masses. Aegon followed him silently.

They stood there in silence for a few minutes then Aemond spoke again.

„If you would excuse us.“ Aemond already started walking away, almost dragging her behind him.

„Goodbye.“ she hurriedly said as she walked with Aemond. He seemed annoyed as they walked through the crowd.

„That was intense.“ she muttered under her breath, happy about the fact that she was able to escape that circle of hell. After Aemond had asked her to accompany him to the Gala they had spoken more and he had invited her for coffee and cake from time to time. That led to her knowing a lot more about the formidable Targaryen family than before and not all of the things she learned were good. However, she had not expected things to get out of hand so quickly once they were all gathered in one place.

„There have been worse things to happen during family get-togethers.“ he muttered under his breath. Before she was able to say anything to him about the interaction again a large man swept in front of them. He was broad shouldered with shoulder long black hair and clear blue eyes.

„Now, now Aemond Targaryen!“ the man laughed and held out his hand. It was Borros Baratheon, the current head of the Storms End company, a man she strongly disliked for many reasons. Sadly, she had to interact with him regularly on a professional level. Before he was able to say anything to her someone took her hand and tugged on it.

„Come, I want to show you the balcony.“ the voice of a woman said. She looked at the woman, it was Helaena. Looking at Aemond for a moment she just nodded.

„Of course.“ Helaena dragged her to the balcony and stopped once they overlooked the city. Kings Landing was beautiful during the night, many lights were shining from all the buildings and even some of the smaller quarters of the city were alight. This city was never truly asleep, everywhere at any time people were making their way through the city and working.

„Thank you.“ she whispered softly as she leaned against the railing, looking down at the magnificent city.

„There is no need to thank me. I know how much you hate him.“ she hummed softly. Her eyes seemed distant, like she was somewhere completely different. She had been well acquainted with Helaena for most of the time she had worked for Otto Hightower, however their friendship had only begun shortly before Aemond had asked her to join him for the Gala.

They stood outside for what felt like half an hour, looking at the city and speaking hushed whispers, giggling softly at each other's jokes. Suddenly she realized that she was freezing and needed to get inside if she did not want to get hypothermic.

„Helaena? I need to get back inside, I am freezing.“ she muttered softly. Helaena just nodded and hummed.

She entered the warm hall again and felt her skin prickle at the warmth of the air. Now the next step was to find Aemond again, she did not want to be alone for too long. While walking through the crowd she greeted a few people politely and even held short conversations with them. Most of them she knew, having already met them at meetings or similar events. Out of nowhere a warm hand landed on the small of her back. She turned, fully expecting to see Aemond but she was wrong, very wrong. It was Jason Lannister.

„How nice it is to see you here!“ he greeted her with a polite smile, his hand not leaving the small of her back the whole time.

„Mr. Lannister, it is a pleasure to see you.“ she nodded politely, trying to writhe her way away from his hand, but it stayed there, moving up to her hip. It was easy to smell that the man was drunk out of his mind, his breath reeking of alcohol.

„Now tell me, doll. What did Aemond Targaryen promise you if you showed up here with him?“ Now she heard that his speech was slurred, only confirming her theory.

„I do not quite understand what you are talking about, Mr. Lannister.“ she felt how his grip on her hip only got more intense.

„You know, did he promise you money? Maybe a promotion? Or a good fuck? Because the last thing he can‘t give you, however I know someone that might.“ his face was dangerously close to hers now and she felt like she was about to throw up as her brain fully processed what the man had just said. As he was about to press his lips against her he was pulled back from her, it was such an aggressive pull that she stumbled back slightly.

„Back off Lannister. She does not want to talk to you.“ Aemond hissed as he wrapped his arm around her waist, still placing himself slightly in front of her. Before Jason Lannister was able to say anything to her or Aemond, Aemond pulled her away and into the crowd.

After they had put a good distance between them and Jason Lannister, Aemond let go of her.

„Are you okay?“ he took her hand and looked her in the eyes. For a moment she was contemplating lying to him, telling him that she was okay that this had not affected her in the slightest, but it had. It had scared her and she felt like she was about to throw up.

She just quietly shook her head and took a step closer to him, Aemond understood the gesture and pulled her into a warm embrace.

„Alright, let's find you a place to sit down.“ he took her hand and guided her through the crowd to one of the tables. He sat her down on the chair in front of him and gently rubbed her arm as he scanned the crowd. She tried to follow his gaze, she spotted the same person he did or rather the two people. It was Aegon and Otto Hightower: Aemond shouted Aegon‘s name and the man turned right away. Aemond waved his hand, signaling him to come over, Otto Hightower followed behind his grandson. As they arrived Otto‘s eyes immediately fell on the young woman sitting on the chair, she looked like a scared deer, eyes glossed over and hands shaking.

„What happened?“ he asked right away as they arrived. His face was hard and he seemed displeased.

„Jason Lannister happened,“ Aemond snarled. Otto raised one of eyebrows, Aemond leaned in and whispered in his grandfather‘s ear. His expression became furious.

„I will get one of the security people to deal with him.“ Otto disappeared after that. Aegon now stood there, looking like he had no idea what to do.

„And what do you need me for?“ Aegon asked.

„Get two lemon cakes from the buffet.“ Aemond‘s voice was commanding and Aegon quickly obliged.

The rest of the evening went by without incident. Jason Lannister had been escorted out of the building by a group of security people and no one else had dared to come near her after that, the fact that she was attached to Aemond‘s arm for the rest of the evening probably also played its part.

Just like Aemond had said the speeches were boring, but she just let her thoughts wander during that time. After the buffet had opened and people had started dancing, the shock of the encounter with Jason Lannister slipped off her like a blanket and she began to enjoy herself. While she was chatting with Helaena she looked over at Aemond who was just speaking to Criston Cole, one of the private security people of the Targaryen family. He looked a lot more relaxed now, but there was still a certain tension in his shoulders.

As he returned to the table she got up from her seat.

„Is everything alright?“ Aemond asked, surprised that she seemed to get up so abruptly.

„Yes, I just wanted to ask if you wanted to dance?“ she smiled at him, this request seemed to have taken him by surprise.

„Of course, why not?“ he smiled and took her hand. As they reached the dance floor a more upbeat song started playing. Aemond twirled her as they danced to the song. Moving towards each other, then apart again, twirling and turning. She laughed as Aemond dipped her down and pulled her up again. They continued like that for what felt like hours. She was in a bliss of pure enjoyment, especially when the slower songs played and he would place his hands on her hips and just gently sway with her. As one song came to an end she looked up at him, seeing how he looked down at her with an unreadable expression, but it was not unfamiliar, he looked at her like he had looked at her in the elevator. Then suddenly he leaned down and gently kissed her, their lips met and she was unable to breath for a moment, she was shocked, but in a pleasant way. He pulled away again, a soft smile on his lips as she looked up at him with big eyes.

„I hope that was okay.“ he whispered softly as they continued to dance.

„It was.“ she laughed softly.

The rest of the evening they danced, they danced and laughed. Aemond knew that it would not be easy for him, but courage was a first step in the right direction.

[those70scomics]

Fictober Day 12: "did you hear that?"

That '70s Show Fanfiction

Miss Kitty was visiting Fez early in the morning at his home, specifically his industrial kitchen. He had the late shift at the candy shop, and she'd asked for help designing her Halloween cake. She needed to feed thirty people.

"For your showstopper," he said while drawing a topsy-turvy cake design, "you'll need PVC pipe. Don't worry; I'll help you construct it "

"That looks amazing. It truly does, but I want this cake to be edible."

"Oh, it will be. You'll also bake sheet cakes to feed everyone. That is how it's done in professional settings."

Miss Kitty's face showed displeasure, as if he had insulted her. He intended to clarify, but a slam! disrupted him. The sound came from upstairs. "Did you hear that?"

"The door slamming? Rhonda must be in a rush to get to work ... unless you upset her?"

"Rhonda is not home."

"Oh. Then the wind. Open windows can -- "

Fez cupped his forehead. The windows were closed in this cold weather. "This house was built in the 1850s and has a ghost. I had hoped he or she -- or it -- would not introduce himself to you."

Laughter rose out of Miss Kitty's throat like a tidal wave. Her face grew red, and tears shone at the corners of her eyes. "Fez, honey," she said once she was back in control, "ghosts are a myth. Let's go upstairs. I'll prove it to."

He didn't wish to insult her further, but he also didn't want to go upstairs when Caspar, as Rhonda called the ghost, was about. Yet he led Miss Kitty to the second floor of his home. She checked every door and room and left all the doors open.

"Okay, Mr. Ghost, the doors are open," she said. "Close them.

They waited in silence. The doors remained open, and she smiled reassuringly -- until the floor above them creaked like someone was pacing.

"My, that is strange ... and it's only Thursday the twelfth. Not Friday the thirteenth." She laughed again, this time more hesitantly. "I'm afraid you've got your days mixed up, Mr. Ghost."

Fez put up his hands. "Ai, please don't aggravate it. He can have tantrums."

"What sort of tantrums?"

"Tossing books off the shelves. Blowing out light bulbs. Groaning. ... I hate the groaning."

Miss Kitty touched his shoulder. "Well, this just won't do. I never threw you kids out of my house, but I watched Red do it hundred it times. Where does Mr. Ghost seem most active?"

"My bedroom."

She strode to the room. Its door was wide open, and Fez followed her while clenching and unclenching his fists.

"Okay, Mr. Ghost," she shouted, "this house no longer belongs to you! It belongs to Fez and Rhonda, and you're not welcome here! Get out! ... Get out, or I'll shove my foot in your incorporeal ass!"

Wind gusted through the room despite that the windows were closed. Goosebumps rose on Fez's arms despite his long sleeves, but he inhaled a deep breath. The air seemed less heavy.

"Miss Kitty, if you truly evicted the ghost, I will forever be in your debt."

She waved at him dismissively. "Help me make a cake that will 'haunt' my party guests -- in a good way -- that no other cake will compare until my next one, and we'll be even."

"I'll design a cake for my home's exorcist that will be the talk of Point Place for the next decade."

"That's my Fez!" She pulled him into a hug, but they separated when a door downstairs slammed.

"Ai ... "

They hurried to the first floor, where a bundled-up Rhonda was in the foyer, frantically searching through the bureau's top drawer.

"Oh, hi, guys. I forgot this." Rhonda yanked a sealed envelope from the drawer. "I need to give it directly to the distributor who's coming to our store today."

She kissed Fez a brief goodbye and dashed out the front door.

"Did her lips feel warm and fleshy?" Miss Kitty said.

"Yes. Why do you ask?"

"Then we know she's not a ghost." She gestured toward the kitchen, but he remained where he stood.

"Do not joke about that."

"But, Fez, I -- "

"I said do not joke! Let us return to designing an otherworldly cake and forget otherworldly people."

He rushed past her to the kitchen, but he wasn't angry. Just spooked, as Hyde would say. Miss Kitty had freed his home from its incorporeal squatter, and he needed time to shake off his years of heebies and jeebies.

[asimplearchivist]

𝓐 𝓢𝓽𝓪𝓰𝓷𝓪𝓷𝓽 𝓛𝓲𝓯𝓮

𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐈 𝐨𝐟 𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐋𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓.

[𝓪𝓼𝓲𝓶𝓹𝓵𝓮𝓪𝓻𝓬𝓱𝓲𝓿𝓲𝓼𝓽'𝓼 𝓶𝓪𝓼𝓽𝓮𝓻𝓵𝓲𝓼𝓽] [ 𝐏𝐎𝐊𝐄𝐌𝐎𝐍 𝐌𝐘𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐘 𝐃𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐎𝐍 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ] [ AO3 | SPOTIFY | PINTEREST ] summary ✨ ⤏ Eliana Kouros is at the end of her rope. She hopes that the yearly tradition of camping in Eterna Forest's sprawling wilds will help to clear her head, but her life takes another turn beyond anything that she could ever have expected. pairing(s) ✨ [none] word count ✨ 3.6k a/n ✨ [divider credit] ⤏ A prologue of sorts that I decided to scrap from the main story, but I was a little too fond of the introduction to discard it completely, so I figured that I could post it separately instead to give it its own spotlight. :)

“Oh, you have got to be kidding me.”

The doorknob was jammed. Again.

“‘Oh, no, I fixed it last weekend while you were out working!’” Eliana muttered, pitching her voice low in her throat to mock her notoriously inattentive landlord. She shoved the key into the slot, jimmying it just enough for the grooves to catch the deadbolt’s worn teeth, and twisted it roughly. The lock finally gave, and she twisted the knob to pull the heavy door open. Pulling the ring free was another matter entirely, and she was red in the face by the time she shuffled into the dimly lit apartment and allowed her bag to slide from her shoulder to drop heavily onto the floor.

Eliana’s roommate, dressed in flannel pajama bottoms and a hoodie worn backward, looked up from the book sprawled across her lap, her glasses perched on the edge of her nose and blonde curls framing her face. Her partner Budew was snuggled into the hood draped over her chest, already dormant for the night. She raised a tawny brow. “Damn, girl, you look like shit.”

“Thank you, Eireanne,” Eliana sighed in response. She kicked off her boots, placed them on the rack, and trudged over to sink onto the cushion next to her roommate. “I feel like shit.”

Eireanne placed a bookmark between the pages and pressed the book closed, leaning forward and setting it on the coffee table while cupping the bud Pokémon with her free hand so she wouldn’t be jostled and disturbed. “What happened?”

“What happened?” Eliana scoffed. “What didn’t happen?” She sank back into the couch and slung her arm over her eyes. “I’m not stupid, right? I went to university, got the parchment with the shiny seal, and got the job of my dreams. I spent years of my life working up to this, gave that place my all—even worked overtime without once complaining about the lack of pay—but what happens when the profit margins drop because of their nepotistic hiring tendencies towards people whose books they can’t be bothered to check for embezzlement? I get dropped! Laid off! Because who the hell needs job security, right?” Eliana let out a manic little laugh, smothering her face in her hands. “Not me, whose family warned her not to go into this field in the first place! Not me, who had to pay her own way all through school by picking up coins off the street while barely dodging debt! Not me, who was saving up to finally buy a house!”

“Damn,” Eireanne echoed, rubbing a sympathetic hand along Eliana’s rigid shoulder, “I’m so sorry. You didn’t deserve that—not after all the work you put into it. Did they just say ‘sorry, not sorry’ or did they give you some bullshit excuse?”

“‘The projections of our future plans do not have enough room to include you,’” Eliana quoted bitterly. “What does that even mean? I was holding down the entire horticultural department! They’re not going to know the first thing about taking care of those Pokémon!”

“Maybe they’ll come crawling back with an apology?” Eireanne suggested, perched on the edge of her seat with a tight frown. “Of course…you probably wouldn’t want to go back there after this. Are you going to file a lawsuit?”

“With what money, Ren?” Eliana groaned. “It’s justified on their end—I’m sure they’ve created a paper trail to justify it.”

“I’ve got a buddy I know from university who specializes in this kind of stuff,” the other woman suggested. “I could give you his number. He’ll get you all sorted out.”

“Maybe,” Eliana sighed. “I’ll have to think about it.”

Eireanne stood up and wandered into their tiny kitchen, voice raised to reach around the corner. “Are you still going on our trip tomorrow? I know you’ve been really looking forward to getting out of Alamos Town.”

“Shit,” she groaned, sitting up and running her fingers through her hair. “I completely forgot, after all of that.”

“I’m sure the guys would understand,” Eireanne assured her, coming back into the main room with two plates piled high with steaming food. “We could rain check for next weekend maybe, give you some time to readjust. You’re obviously upset.”

“No, I’m not going to flake on all of you after we’ve been planning this all summer. Our…well, your work schedules are crazy as it is. It’ll be another three months before we can reorganize it. Besides, I’ve already packed for it—it’ll be a pain in the ass to take it all back out of the bag.”

“Whatever you say,” Eireanne responded, placing the plate in the botanist’s lap. “Sounds like you need a glass of wine, yeah?”

“I’d kill a man for a whole bottle,” Eliana responded dryly, surveying the array of roasted, herbal poultry, sautéed, honeyed root vegetables, and mulled, spiced pears. “This looks divine, Ren. You need a taste tester in that fancy restaurant of yours? My schedule’s suddenly opened up.”

Eireanne laughed quietly, set her own plate on the table, and wandered back into the kitchen. “I’ll have to ask Richard if a position’s available. I’m not sure you’d be all that good of a judge, though—you think everything I cook is good.”

“Because it is!” Eliana dove in, going for the pears first. The fork sank into the flesh like butter, releasing notes of cloves and cinnamon. “You’ve never made anything I haven’t liked.”

“Taste-testers have to have a refined palate, I’m afraid, so we can actually figure out what to serve. Our menu would be a mile long if you had your say.”

“And nobody would complain one bit,” Eliana retorted around a mouthful of fruit, lashes fluttering as the flavors burst over her tongue. “But I understand. Most people are too picky to enjoy the simpler things in life.”

A glass of rosé was set in front of her, and Eireanne sank down into her seat once more. “I can take of a couple of days soon,” she suggested, “if you want to go on a girl’s trip or something. I heard Snowpoint’s already had their first snowfall this year.”

“I couldn’t ask you to do that,” Eliana sighed, swallowing and chasing it with the sweet wine. “I’ll be fine, really. I can start job searching next week.”

“Are you going to tell your folks?”

“Why would I?” Eliana snorted. “They’ve never helped me before. They wanted me to be a coordinator so bad, and…well. You already know. That I actually wanted to be a scientist without entering the competitive field was unfathomable to them.”

“I know.” Eireanne grabbed the remote and chose the most recent episode of Sinnoh’s yearly regional baking competition—something mindless that the both of them enjoyed after dealing with people all day. “If you need some pocket money, just let me know. I got my bonus and a raise for next year.”

“I’ve got enough saved up to last me a while, but thank you.” Eliana leaned back and stuffed a softened carrot into her mouth. “I just don’t know what I’m going to do now.”

“You’ll figure it out, girl.” Eireanne nudged Eliana’s arm with her elbow. “You never know what’s around the corner—this may be the best thing that’s ever happened to you. It’s just hard to tell right now.”

“Maybe so.” Eliana squinted at the television. “He’s not putting eggs in his dough.”

“Oh, no,” Eireanne groaned. “He’s misremembered his substitutes.”

“He’s doomed.”

“Agreed. Let’s see if the thing will even hold together.”

“Doubt it. Bet a ten?”

“Sure.”

“There’s our girls!” called Cal, beaming as he waved wildly from his seat by the campfire already merrily crackling away.

“You don’t have to announce it to the entire forest!” Eireanne laughed, complexion darkening as she returned his smile.

Eliana rolled her eyes. The two had been dancing around each other ever since senior year, and she was half-tempted to hogtie them together until they figured out the fact that they were undeniably devoted to each other. “If they haven’t heard you guys cackling, anyway. I’m surprised all the Pokémon haven’t hunted you down to shut you up.”

Bradley and Derrick both laughed at Cal’s grumpy frown, standing up to help the girls with their packs.

“Glad you could make it,” said Bradley, eyes twinkling as he poked Eliana’s sternum. “I was worried you’d bail on us after getting the axe.”

“Brad!” Eireanne scolded. “I told you not to bring it up!”

“What? Were we supposed to dance around it the whole time?” he asked indignantly. “It was bound to come up eventually!”

“Ren, it’s fine,” Eliana said, shaking her head. “It doesn’t bother me.”

Eireanne’s skeptical face was sufficient to express her doubt, likely recalling the fact that Eliana had cried in the shower that morning thinking about the fact that she wouldn’t get to interact with the Pokémon in the arboretum anymore, but she was gracious enough not to bring it up in front of the guys.

“And,” Eliana added, addressing the three men, “you don’t have to give me any pity. Let’s just acknowledge it and move on.”

“Still,” Derrick said somberly, “it sucks. I can name at least three people they should’ve let go before you should have even been considered. I could talk to my boss to see if you could get a job at the clinic—we could always use some more hands.”

“Let me see what I can find first, then I’ll start asking for nonrepayable favors,” Eliana responded. She gestured to the campsite—it seemed that they had already gotten busy crafting the lean-to’s to protect their tents. “What else needs to be done?”

“We could use some more firewood,” said Cal, scratching his chin. “I could loan you my Machoke to help carry it.”

“No, thank you, I’m good.” Eliana slipped her satchel off her shoulder, pulled out her work belt, and buckled it around her waist before loading her bush crafting tools into the hooks. “Holler if you need anything else, I’m heading for that dead clearing like usual.”

“Whatever you say,” Cal waved her off, turning to Eireanne. “Please tell me you brought food. We forgot.”

“You boys are helpless,” sighed the blonde.

“We got distracted by the girl that walks the dog-Pokémon for our block,” Bradley said plainly, resulting in Derrick smacking his shoulder.

Eliana thought that falling back into the rhythm of camping in the middle of Eterna Forest would afford her some peace of mind, but even in the relative silence of the woods, her mind wouldn’t shut off. She was able to work off some of her anger by splitting wood, thankfully, drawing the eyes of wild, curious Pokémon—she couldn’t see them, but she felt their gazes and heard their quiet chattering under the whispering wind and the burbling creek a stone’s throw through the trees.

The evening passed in normalcy, the others eventually letting out their Pokémon to enjoy the great outdoors. Cal’s Machoke, his partner in crime, had a great time stacking the chopped log Eliana lugged back, while Cal regaled his latest misadventures as a personal trainer at the gym in Veilstone. Bradley had moved up in the world—his specialization in Pokémon nutrition afforded him a rather lofty position at a kibble testing and production facility in Jubilife, and his Luxray was living the good life sampling each new prototype (and had gained about fifteen pounds in doing so). Derrick’s clinic in Solaceon was steady with a well-established clientele, and his passion for rehabilitating injured Pokémon leaked through his technical terminology—his Blissey had tried several times already to cuddle up to Eliana, but she wasn’t in the mood to entertain the happiness Pokémon’s fussy instincts.

Several hours after supper, everyone cleaned up and retired to bed—but after another hour or so of tossing and turning, Eliana gave up trying to sleep. She grabbed her pack and slipped out of her tent as quietly as she could—the others’ Pokémon were all curled into a pile next to the embers, with Eireanne’s Budew in the center looking as happy as ever. 

Eliana gritted her teeth and picked her way into the woods. It was a foolish thing to do, to leave without letting one of the others know, but this wasn’t the first time she’d done this and it wouldn’t likely be the last. She knew the paths as well as the back of her hand by this point, after years of returning to the same location and adventuring all around the forest and mountainside.

Within fifteen minutes she found her favorite spot—where the creek flowed into a sprawling lake that reflected the glittering array of stars scattered overhead. The moon was full and glowing, casting shadows across the ebbing shore. If Eliana squinted she’d be able to spot the nocturnal Pokémon lingering on the edges of the water, hunting and playing. She couldn’t count the number of times that the local Misdreavus population had gotten a kick of out scaring the shit out of her—but their little keks of satisfaction were more endearing than she’d ever readily admit.

Eliana found a wave-smoothed boulder and sat on the gravelly shore against it, feeling the tension ease out of her body the longer she listened to the chirruping of nearby Kricketunes with their Kricketot orchestras. The water rippled as the fish Pokémon lipped its surface in search of insect Pokémon unfortunate enough to rest there for too long. It was as serene a scene as she could conceivably find, and without the gazes of the others weighing her down, she could finally relax.

She reached under her sweatshirt and pulled out the delicate chain that rested against her clavicle, eyes resting upon the bronze nametag dangling in the mercurial light. The sight of it didn’t immediately bring tears to her eyes like it used to, but the melancholic heaviness that had since replaced them gripped her heart. She folded it into her palm and pressed it against her chest, closing her eyes and tilting her head back against the boulder briefly. “I still miss you, sweet thing. I hope you know that.”

Many people could deal with the loss of their childhood partner by capturing, buying, or being gifted another Pokémon—but Eliana had never quite been able to allow herself to grow attached again. She’d been so heartbroken by losing her first that she had never wanted to experience that loss ever again, although the accidental circumstances surrounding the situation had likely made a far more lasting impact than it would have otherwise. She didn’t think poorly of people who had the fortitude to move on—one never truly stopped grieving (unless he or she was heartless, anyway), only had to let love grow around it—she admired them, truly. Perhaps she was a coward for closing herself off, but self-preservation was something that had always been ingrained in her.

Her parents had seen to all her needs growing up and had promised to support her, but only as long as she’d shown promise as a Pokémon trainer—they’d eventually decided that she should follow her older sister’s path of becoming a Pokémon coordinator, seeing as Anaile found so much success in her career, but Eliana hadn’t understood the appeal of it. At first, they’d backed off, thinking that she’d choose to pursue the league championship instead—but once Eliana had professed her intention of pursuing science instead, they’d shut her out.

Eliana had come to terms with it by now. Anaile still called her occasionally to keep in touch, not knowing what happened to drive such a rift between their parents and her little sister, but Eliana hadn’t spoken to them since she’d moved to Alamos Town to attend its university. With as high of grades as she’d gotten in high school, scholarships weren’t difficult to come by—and they were likely the lifeline that had kept her afloat, trying to keep a roof over her head and food in her fridge with the money she made working on the side.

Still. Being one of the only people who didn’t have at least one Pokémon made her stand out—and not necessarily in a good way. Too many strangers found it far too comfortable to pry into the reasons why she didn’t have a partner, although she could deal with the ones usually pertaining to phobias or lack of opportunities. Occasionally she had to shut down the conversation when they hit a button too close to home.

That was partly why she had been grateful to work in the relative privacy of the lab or her office—the public was only allowed to visit the arboretum and the indoor botanical garden, so, most of the time (unless she had been forced to give tours or presentations), she never had to speak to anyone save her coworkers, who had learned early on not to delve into that topic of conversation.

It wasn’t that she no longer held any affection for Pokémon—far from it, in fact, seeing as she had grown quite fond of the inhabitants of the research facility—but she couldn’t stand to entertain the thought of subjecting herself to losing another partner.

A flicker of light against her eyelids caused Eliana to crack them open, squinting across the surface of the lake for any signs of life she had missed in her initial visual sweep. There were alpha Pokémon that lived this far into the woods, and visitors were always cautioned to give them a wide berth—although the arguably more dangerous ilk of the sort, like Lopunny or Dustox, only came out during the day, Mismagius and Honchkrow could pose a danger to an unwitting, sleepy bystander at an hour like this. Closer to camp, with a Machoke, Luxray, and Blissey on guard (because Eireanne’s Budew was still considerably frail for its age), most wild Pokémon would know better than to stir up trouble unless intentionally posing a challenge to one of the trainers.

Nothing of the sort caught her eye. A Mismagius’ moves could cause tricks of the eye, but she wasn’t even getting a glimpse of that. All was perfectly peaceful.

Eliana frowned, readjusting more comfortably in her spot. Shrouded in shadow for the most part, it would be difficult for the average Pokémon to spot her, so she let her eyes drift shut once more, breathing in the cool lakeshore air while listening to the quiet symphony surrounding her.

She would never be able to tell at what point that she fell asleep.

Eliana had never been much of a dreamer.

That was precisely why she found it extremely unusual to become aware of the fact that she was asleep, that she was dreaming, and that she retained full control of her thoughts, movements, and actions within the landscape trapped inside of her mind.

Lucidity was something that many people strove, sometimes nightly, to achieve while they slept for the sake of the fantastical whimsy with which they would play in the boundless capabilities of the human mind, so perhaps she should have felt grateful for the opportunity—but she had always thought that it sounded exhausting. It was difficult enough to feel well-rested even with unlimited hours available to her schedule on the weekends, much less having to endure a full night while still conscious.

Eliana frowned as she peered into the vast and endless expanse submerging her weightless body. She floated, listless, slowly spinning on an axis tethered to an undetectable center of gravity. That she could still breathe and that she could feel her heart thrumming beneath her chest proved both that she was not in space nor dead, which had been the first two explanations that had surfaced in her rousing, delayed thoughts, as absurd as the concepts were—that it was a dream could be the only reasonable explanation.

It would help if the scenery were a little more lively, even still—dreams were vibrant and senseless, not…empty voids lacking sight and sound, at least according to her limited experiences. She couldn’t name the subject matter that her child self had awoken with dancing just on the edge of recollection, but she knew that something wasn’t quite right about any of this.

A glimmer of light in her peripheral caused her to turn and throw out her arms in an attempt to balance herself. The free-falling sensation only worsened as golden light began to sparkle around her like a meteor shower, dazzling her eyes and causing her to cover her face to protect them. Tinkling starbursts filled her ears, and when she dared to peer out from between her fingers, she saw the light culminating into a massive shape a stone’s throw away. She watched as a quadruped formed there, an aureola emanating from what could only have been a Pokémon with a halo at its back. Its piercing eyes, colorless yet iridescent, peered at her in the dark, gauging.

Eliana stilled, feeling her body get caught in its unseen grip—she knew better than to antagonize an unfamiliar Pokémon—but something about its silhouette was…familiar to her, somehow, as though she’d seen it before.

It uttered not a sound as it looked at her, as though gazing into her very soul. Then, finally, it dipped its great head, the crest bobbing with the motion—and the light intensified, streaks of shimmering gold circling her and enveloping her in a wall of energy that caused every hair on her body to stand on end, frissons rocketing over her flesh despite the warmth of her clothes.

Then, at once, she careened downward into the vast, empty void below.