#these are ramblings of a mad man best kept contained

[isdisorigionalenoughforyou]

yknow sometimes i think about how mr seawatt gaming parkourcivilization only got to where he was by leveraging his knowledge of obscure rules and mechanics and keeping all his cards close to his heart. how he clearly only got to where he originally was in the 1st movie by making himself useful with amethyst blocks and brewing stand jumps. and how it all crumbled because evbo 360-ed all over his carefully laid plans but really, his undoing was his own hubris.

and he's shit at parkour

[helplessautomaton]

hii could request message 4 with Poe? pleaseee

4 (“i'm so glad you feel the same cause i refuse to leave you”)

personally loving the individual poe requests (even though the event is over) despite the little hard ships. sorry for my slowness im struggling here mentally but im trying!!

WC 649 // tws: average Y!poe being a tad bit creepy (nothing sexual dw)

The bookstore and library was your favorite place to visit, the quietness and overall tranquility kept bringing you back along with your preferred genre. The workers at the bookstore memorized your face, greeting you like you were one of their own. You really couldn't ask for more, everyone knew how to keep tight and not bother anyone. The bookstore was tiny and uneventful but it had all the right books you wanted and it kept drawing you back every time.

Other patrons of the bookstore were just as pleasant, your own personal wonderland. Recently a new person came in, the outfit worn was wildly different than any other usual clothing you’d seen. You only admired from afar, really it was all you could do for a man who stood out completely in a small store. It's hard not to gawk eyes at a man with a raccoon on his shoulders purring happily at his company. You don't remember how you got to talking with the man, he was pleasant as he could be. Much to your surprise you two got along fairly fast, you loved to talk about everything about the current book you were into that month. You got more out of the tiny bookstore when hanging out with the man, Poe alongside his best friend, Karl. hanging out and drinks were commonplace with the two of you, you didn't fear Poe. 

Yet with all the moments you hung out with him, it was hard to fully grasp all the complexities hidden within the man you spend every second with. His beautiful eyes swirling with admiration towards every detail about your figure then to a dark glimmer when it's anyone else near you. His endless rants were genuinely nice to listen to and you’d even asked questions to some of the rambled up words and plans he’d spit out comfortably with you. Clasping his hands together with a massive smile on his face as he rambled on more excitedly the two of you sharing ideas with each other. You never knew the full extent to the insanity you led him to during the first moments of ever meeting him.

The way your hair and eyes caught his heart enough to start twisting and distorting his very reality with every soft moment of yours. The multitude of letters piling up in a hidden away drawer, never to see any light ever since the first ink drop sealed on to the soft material. 

Your feelings came slowly, not yet in true love but enough to risk some of your wellbeing for him. Poe was glad you two never got interrupted often, his jealousy is an ugly beast that he couldn't let you see just yet. You’d understand no? Understand the burning love within his heart that could only burn because of you? Every late night spent feeling his mind slip away and every part of you filling the space up, every immoral thought of keeping you by his side forever. Every touch of his hands covering up his face at the mere thought of a simple kiss from your lips. It's driving him mad and there's no sign of stopping. But his question was answered when you asked him to stay just a little longer.

You confessed to him, full understanding if he wasn't interested but the barely contained whisper that left his mouth was all you wanted. “i-I’m so glad you feel the same ca-cause i refuse to leave you.”

The swirl of madness in his eyes only worsened and he took you by hand aggressively spouting nonsense in a state of flustered obsession. “I’ve wa-waited so long for this moment!”  He was so happy you loved him back! Now you won't ever leave him right? Won't go out of your way to leave the world he's building just for the two of you? Afterall you feel the same.

[batmanie]

Leading role

No matter how hard she tried to ignore it, the love was all around her, even in such an unlikely place like Arkham Asylum. Whichever direction she turned her head, she could see the signs of romance hanging in the air like a pesky virus.

Mary Louise Dahl – the former main lead in the popular sitcom, who had been deemed criminally insane after that one unfortunate incident, when she had kidnapped her ex-coworkers – not a big deal, really, comparing to some other inmates’ antics – was passing the time in her lonely cell, doing her best not to go totally mad.

It was Valentine’s day again, and Calendar Man was going on and on about this stupid holiday for fools. She hated this time of the year with all her might. Nothing rubbed her the wrong way as much as celebrating romance.

She was sitting on her cot, pressing her small hands to her ears, and trying to block the noises coming from a neighboring cell. It didn’t help much. She could still hear Harleen crying her eyes out over her latest breakup with the Clown, who had tossed her out of a moving car for some minor remark she had made, a day before Valentine’s.

It weren’t mere sounds of sobbing, nor wails of anguish, that bothered Mary this much. No, it was the fact that doctor Quinzel had something Baby Doll could never have – a romantic relationship – as toxic as it was, it was still better than none, at least Mary thought so.

“Poor thing,” the guards who were passing by Harleen’s cell tend to say.

“Poor Harley, used by the Joker yet again, and thrown away like trash.” Even the doctors seemed to pity the clown-girl for some reason.

No one ever felt sorry for Mary for not knowing what was it like – to love and to have a broken heart.

It was not only Harleen’s teary story that made Mary feel bad about herself. Arkham, as unloving as it might be, held quite a few tragic lovers within its cold, brick walls.

Take Jervis Tetch, for example, the ex-neuroscientist waited for Mary to arrive at the Arkham canteen at the dinner time. He greeted her with a toothy grin as she entered the dining area.

He was kind enough to pick her up, and sat her down in a high chair that the staff had prepared for her beforehand. He joined her for the meal as he often did. And all would be nice and well, if not for Jervis rambling on about a single topic – his Alice – the girl he thought he loved.

The blonde man praised Alice’s golden locks, her innocent smile, and her curious mind. While Mary tried to eat her food, he was yapping nonstop – making Baby Doll sick to her stomach.

She quickly decided, she hated that Alice-girl for claiming this man’s stupid heart and mind so completely. The one thing that Mary simply couldn’t do.

After suffering through yet another Alice-related story from the Hatter, Baby Doll sneaked out from the canteen, right under the noses of the Arkham staff. Small, and usually unnoticed, she simply hid under the table, and when everyone else was gone, she walked out the door to find a storage room, where the belongings of the patients were stored.

Mary sorted through the rogues private staff, just to keep herself distracted on this most frustrating day. She dug out a box containing the wooden ventriloquist puppet of Arnold Wesker. She put it on top of a cardboard box and dropped a proper curtsy.

“Good evening Mr. Scarface. May I have this dance?” she asked, outstretching her arm and pretending the dummy was a real man she could have charmed with her smile.

Later on, she found one of Scarecrow’s books about fear of commitment and decided to read it.

She got a little bored soon after, so she got back to sorting through the stuff. It was when she found out that Harvey Dent still had a picture of his blonde fiance in his wallet.

Grace, was it? A kind-looking young lady, a pretty face for sure, most likely tall, long-legged, just like Mary could have been – if not for her condition.

Two-face kept receiving long letters from Grace. Mary didn’t read any of them, of course, but she entertained herself with guessing what could be written inside them.

“I still love you, Harvey.” Was that what Grace would tell him? “I’m waiting for you to get better and to return home. I’m so lonely without you.”

What would some stupid Grace, some good looking blonde bimbo, possibly know about loneliness? She had gotten Dent to put a ring on her, and she could find a new man in no time.

By the evening, Baby Doll was back in her cell, explaining to the guards that she had gotten herself lost, and the idiots actually had believed her.

Resting on her cot, much too large for her tiny body, with her short legs dangling from the edge of the bed, she looked at the evening sky through the bars at her small window. Her blue eyes looking for a sign of little snowflakes falling from the cell above hers.

Trapped in his frozen cell at the top floor of Arkham, there was Viktor Fries, the sad widower, mourning his late wife. Mary had never met him, but she knew his story, and she knew it was love that had made him a villain – because what else?

If anything at all, it had been not love but a lack of it that had made Baby Doll a bad girl. It had been rage and jealousy at everyone that had their families, their lovers to share the joys and sorrows of a daily life with. She had none of that, and it was unfair. She wished she could be someone’s Alice, and Grace, and Nora. But no matter how hard she tried to believe she could be that one day, such a miracle would never happen.

Cruel fate had robbed her of all pleasures of adulthood. She was denied her first kiss, holding hands, and feeling butterflies in her stomach.

Who would love a freak like her? Who would see a woman in this small, child-like body?

“Good evening, Miss Dahl,” the friendly voice of Kyle, the new nurse guy, snapped her out of her sad pondering. “It’s time for your meds.”

The guy must have been a fan of her show back in the days, why else would he be so awfully nice?

She sighed and jumped down from her cot, getting to the door to receive her prescribed medication. It surprised her, she had never noticed it before, but the nurse guy was crippled, missing his left hand. Was he born that way? Strange that she missed that detail about him.

Trying not to stare, she gulped down the pills, and let Kyle take her temperature and pulse, she returned to her cot, climbing on top with an effort. Then she noticed something odd, a brown ball, the size of a human fist, laying on her bedside drawer.

It caught her eyes immediately as she was certain it hadn’t been there before. She reached her hand to inspect the mysterious object.

It was soft and sticky to the touch, just like a chewing gum, and when she poked it with her finger, the ball bubbled, like a dense liquid, and shifted its shape, turning into a little heart, then into a singing bird, and then once more into a flower.

Baby Doll smiled involuntarily, as she recognized what it was.

“Let me tell you something, actor to actor,” she said, holding the flower made of clay in both her hands. The flower changed into an ear, as if ready to listen to her. “That was a damn good performance, Mr. Hagen. Your ‘Kyle’ got me totally convinced there, and I’m quite surprised by this twist.” She giggled softly, and watched the ear transforming into a pair of lips.

The mouth in her hands spoke with a rough male voice. “Why, thank you. I just thought you may want some company, Miss Dahl.”

He was right, she really wanted, but she was not simply going to admit that to Clayface.

“Did you go through all this trouble just to wish me a happy Valentine’s?” She mocked. “Or are you rather going to offer me a supporting role in your newest act?”

Now, it was Clayface’s turn to let out a soft chuckle. “Supporting? No. For you, Dolly, I’ll always keep a leading role open.”

[burntheupholstery]

bestie tell me about your fave Naruto ships and how they’ve changed over the years!!

emi!!! darling, i thought so long and hard about this, and i am now forced to conclude that my inability to be normal about Naruto ships is terminal, sorry. one day it will kill me.

i am incapable of being normal about these 2d people. nowadays i either put them in QPRs - QPR ftw! - or they're single, bereaved, and grieving.

long and rambly thoughts under the cut, but here's the tl;dr: my shippy focus used to be solely m|m, but then i learned about QPRs and now that's everything and everyone. there usually isn't sex involved (there used to be) because i personally amn't interested, but probably it happens off-screen. i think almost exclusively in KakaObiRin and the Sannin, and apart from those two units i mostly mix up characters with OCs - Konan/F!OC, Terumi/F!OC, etc., or explore grief and living through disaster by writing character studies.

of course, nobody is straight. :)))

i used to ship the cast monogamously! my preferences were KakaYama, JiraOro, and time-travel!NaruKaka. ...that last one still appeals to me. the tragedy of time! the despair of fate! the struggle against predestination! tall, blond, and haunted? hello. and then a while later i was into NaruGaa, NejiHina, and HashiTobi (yeah, as in the senju founders). to some extent i still ship the last one, because the connecting factor of all these ships was unconditional devotion through life's vicissitudes. but you can already see the hints of QPR and the patterns of being left behind.

and then i went to college and got depressed from the pandemic and i read a lot of Big Books about the tragedies and joys of the Human Condition (and i kept reading them, they're good, happy to share recs!) and i stopped being able to isolate these sad little ink figures to just one other point of connection. it's like that adage about leading a healthy life: your romantic partner can't be your everything - it's unfair both parties. friendships outside of romantic monogamy is good and healthy! and i applied that theory to fic and realized one partner cannot possibly soothe and contain all that fictional trauma. so. QPR it is.

i've never felt drawn to the canon version of KakaObi- to me, their magnetism comes from their entanglements with others and the world: Minato, Rin, their clan legacies or lackthereof, and war and love and hate and grief. Yamato was too flat for me to build on, so i kicked him and put Kakashi with Obito and Rin and now the plot bunnies never cease.

Then there's JiraOro, the unpleasant offshoot of my BL-obsessed days. the hurt!! the betrayal!! i realized with glee i can have all that and more if i hooked Tsunade into the mix - after all, Jiraiya isn't the most reliable moral crutch and compass in the world, and his lascivious ego needs to be taken down a peg or five, none of which Orochimaru is inclined to do. we also never got to see Orochi and Tsuna get along on screen, and i just know in my heart of hearts they are the world's most gossipy mad science best friends. together they keep each other grounded. together they can be their best and worse selves. apart, the fallout is spectacular. probably the sex is specular too, but i don't really care about that.

and that's it for the active ships i still rotate in my head, really. hashirama is a can of worms i regretted opening, because that man is stuffed so full of idealism he's gone sour. if anything, it's the people he left behind that i'm interested in now: mito, tobirama, his kids, tsunade. the isolation, the devastation, the rage at being left behind. the crushing weight of expectation, the looming spectre of war. heady stuff!!

finally we come to Obito. ah... Obito. what isn't wrong with you. what hasn't the world done to you. in his canon state he is non-functioning, inoperable. every time i pick him up i give him a good hard shake to get rid of all that canon taint, and then i plop him in interesting AUs where he confronts his problems head on. namely: Rin. i love Rin.

surprising everyone, i actually don't have a lot of complaints about the Ōotsutsuki as characters - i used to hate their existence, but the sci-fi fan in me reared its head insistently so now i have a bunch of plot bunnies about them. i don't ship them, tho. they seem almost too alien for human connections...

you'll notice i've conspicuously left out discussion of the Konoha 11. this is because while i love them with all my heart i've lost touch with their characterization... and Boruto's existence is just so disheartening that I prefer to play in my own sand-box.

¯\_(ツ)_/¯ !!!

[waywardxrhea]

Part Ten - The Winter Soldier

[slow burn romance between you, a SHIELD investigative journalist, and Steve Rogers]

Warnings: 18+, contains humor, fluff, mental health, family trauma, romance, angst, language, violence, friends to lovers trope, smut later on.

installment list

Word count: 4.6k

You break your tech out of SHEILD HQ before meeting up with the rest of the team to stop HYDRA from fulfilling their mission.

When you got to SHIELD HQ, you pulled into the parking garage by a side entrance you usually used to get to the media offices. You took a deep breath and said to yourself, "Here we go. Broadway was always your dream, so let's put on a show." As you walked from the car and into the building, you held your notebook in one arm and furiously wrote on the page that was covered in notes that were actually from the mission a few days prior.

"Hey!" one of the other journalists, Sandra, called, catching up with you as she did. "Where have you been the past couple of days?"

"Oh, I just took a couple of personal days. It's just been hard some days since my grandma passed, and it hit me badly so I just needed a breather..." you tells her sadly in a sort of half-truth.

"Oh, I'm so sorry, my condolences..." the sweet girl replied as she swiped her keycard and you both entered the building. "Are you still working on mission notes?"

You faked a nervous laugh before replying, "Maybe... I hope they won't be too mad at my tardiness."

"You're one of our best reporters, they won't be mad," she assured you as you walked down the hall towards the office where your drone was held.

You almost reached the office when one of your superiors stopped you and said, "It's good to see you two."

You smiled sweetly as you replied, "And you as well."

"May I speak with you?" he asked, directing his attention toward you. When he looked you in the eye there was a steeliness you couldn't quite read and it caused an uneasy feeling to begin to creep up her spine.

As he asked this, Sandra was called away to an assignment, so she walked away with a small wave as you replied to the man, "Of course, sir."

The conversation started off casually as you went into his office as he asked, "Are those additional reports for the STRIKE mission, agent?"

You nodded, telling him, "Yes sir. I had some more time to think about the events of the mission and wanted to add some additional details to my article." You kept your voice as steady as you could and held onto the notebook to hide the shaking in your hands.

"Additional details? How so?"

"Well, first there was the odd behavior of Batroc. I just thought-" you started rambling, mentally kicking yourself for not keeping your answer short.

"Look," Stevens says while closing the office door, interrupting your rambling abruptly. You snapped your mouth shut out of instinct and knew you should have tried to weasel yourself out of the situation, but your brain just completely shut down as he began talking. "I know you w-" He didn't finish his sentence though as suddenly his phone went off and his face scrunched together in confusion.

"What seems to be the problem, sir?" you asked innocently, warping your expression into one of concern.

"As if you don't know," he spat at you. "Stay right here if you know what's good for you. Captain Rogers won't be here to save the day this time..."

As he stalked out of the room, you caught the door with your foot before it shut. You looked both ways into the hall and ensured that the coast was clear before quickly walking to where your drone was kept. You walked as fast as you could inconspicuously, desperately wanting to get the drone as fast as possible before he noticed you left the room.

Once in the media room, you typed in the code to your locker and grabbed the drone along with its controls. You quickly placed the drone in a bag and started furiously tapping at the tablet screen as you walked back to the parking garage. What you did when accessing the controls was turn off the tracking devices on the drone and tablet as well as their streaming function that reported back to HQ. This way it would be extremely hard for them to track her location via the drone.

You froze momentarily as you heard your name followed by, "Stop right where you are!"

"Shit," you whispered, your heart picking up its pace in your chest as you began booking it away from him. Your brain ignored the pain your body was screaming about as you started sprinting to the exit as fast as you could. You heard footsteps running after you quite closely, so you tipped over a coffee cart on its side and into their path, hoping that trick would work as well as it usually did in movies. As you ran, officers and guards emerged from the side halls and gates began to shut over the exits. Upon seeing this, a burst of energy hit you and you slammed your body out of the door leading out to the parking garage just as the gates closed behind you.

Once in the garage, you quickly got in the car and threw it into gear, peeling out of the garage before anyone can get to you. As you drove, you put on your seat belt and picked up the burner phone from the passenger seat and dialed Sam. "What's your status?" you asked as you held the phone between your ear and shoulder.

"We're heading to the rendezvous point now," Sam replied while slamming his door shut. "What about you?"

"Well I made it out alive, but they definitely don't like me right now," you told him, laughing a bit in shock at what you just did. You looked over your shoulder and continued with, "I don't think I'm being followed though. I got out of there right before they closed all the gates. It would take them a few minutes to get the security protocols back to how they were in order to get to me."

Suddenly Romanoff's voice came over the speaker saying, "Well make sure you get rid of any possible tails and meet us here ASAP."

"On it."

You made turns throughout neighborhoods and narrow city streets before finally parking a block out from the meeting point. When you parked, you began unloading your bag of supplies and booted up the tech. When you did this, the drone whirred to life and picture flashed onto the tablet screen. Seeing this, you smiled and whispered, "Now we're in business."

You casually rolled your window down as you pushed a button to make the drone invisible to the naked eye and flew it out the window. You dialed up Sam again as he came into view on the screen, saying, "Hey Wilson, I like the shades."

"I will admit I'm impressed, Agent," Sam replied. "You do have a pretty sweet gig if this is the tech you've got. I can't see or hear your drone."

"Well, we both thank you," you told him with a quiet laugh, "but you need to get back to the mission."

While you said this, Romanoff casually walked past the car you were in and grabbed the headsets you had placed on the top of the vehicle.

"Check one-two," she mumbled as she fixed hers in her ear.

"I can hear you loud and clear, Romanoff," you told her.

Once she had her com line on, she walked past Sam at his cafe table and dropped his earpiece. "Can y'all hear me?" Sam asked after he fixed his onto his ear.

"Loud and clear," you confirmed as you followed Romanoff with the drone.

She met up with Steve and he put his headset on, asking, "Everything good on my end?"

"Loud and clear for you too, Cap."

"I'm glad you made it out of there safe," Steve said to you.

You were so grateful Steve that wasn't there to see the blush on your cheeks in response to his sentiment. You tried your hardest to hide the bashfulness in your voice while telling him, "Easy peasy, I told you not to worry about me."

There was a beat of silence before Romanoff quipped with an audible smirk, "Why don't you two go on a date? And not just one of those friend dates you go on already."

"We're in the middle of a mission right now Natasha, how about you focus on finding me a date later?" Steve asked.

"I'm multitasking," she replied, walking off to her post for the mission.

You felt your heart flutter at the idea of an actual date with Steve, but you quickly refocused as you noticed movement coming from the restaurant Jasper Sitwell had been in. "The asset is moving out of the building, everyone in position," you informed the group. "Quite a few guards with Sitwell and Stern."

"They're mostly Stern's, when he's gone we're golden," Romanoff replied from her perch.

"Do you have a good view of them, Wilson?" you asked.

"That I do. Just waiting for Stern to leave, then I'll make the call," he confirmed.

You watched with bated breath as Stern and some of the guards started to leave and said to Sam, "You're up, Wilson."

So Sam made the call to Sitwell's phone and you listened into half of the conversation while keeping one of the drone cameras on Sitwell and one rotating around the area to make sure no one could compromise the mission. You began to wonder how the hell you got yourself into this situation when you watched as Romanoff trained her sniper scope on him while Sam informed him of exactly what he was to do.

Once the phone call was over, the team transferred Sitwell to the top of a building nearby where Steve and Romanoff began their phase of the plan. You could feel the tension in your muscles as you watched Steve hold Sitwell over the side of the building and from the proximity of the two men, she can hear Sitwell say, "Is this play to make it seem like you'll throw me off the building, because that doesn't seem like your style, Rogers."

"You're right, It's not," Steve replied. "It's hers."

A shocked squeak left your mouth along with the breath you hadn't realized you were holding as Sitwell began his descent down toward the ground! "Relax, relax, it's all part of the plan," Romanoff told you nonchalantly as you turned the camera back towards Sitwell who was swooped up midair by Sam who flew through the air with his wings from his military days!

As Sam landed with Sitwell safely on the rooftop, you breathed, "Now that... was badass, Wilson."

The group advanced on Sitwell and began questioning him again, this time getting the answers they were looking for. You made note of specific names he mentioned that you didn't recognize and began research on them as Sitwell confessed everything he knew. Your eyebrows furrowed together as you looked up the mentioned name of Stephen Strange. "That's weird, why would they be threatened by a surgeon...?" you mumbled to yourself, lost in your own little world of research.

"We've got bigger fish to fry than a damn surgeon!" Sam said as they begin moving Sitwell to his car. "If we don't move and derail this thing, millions are gonna die!" When he said this, your mouth went agape, totally shocked at the information and terrified of its implications.

"We need to get back to HQ," Steve informed you.

"Yes sir," Emma replied, bringing your drone back to the car so you could all get out of there.

"They'll know where we are, you drive in front of us. We can't risk losing all the footage and data you have," Steve told you as you turned on the car and got ready to head out.

"On it," you replied, pulling out of the spot you were parked in and onto the road right in front of Sam's car. Soon after navigating out of the busy inner city, both cars pulled onto the highway and started speeding toward SHIELD HQ.

You were listening intently in on the bickering in the other car when you heard a thud and glass shattering from their end. "Uh, guys, are you good back there?" When you didn't get a response, you looked in your rearview and saw a man, The Winter Soldier, on top of Sam's car.

"Not this guy again..." Sam muttered as the Soldier started shooting into the roof of the car. There was a pause before Sam shouted, "Incoming!"

"What?" you shouted right before you saw the muscled man fly over the car and land on the ground right in your path.

On instinct, you tried to swerve around him, but clipped the metal arm he used to stop himself. When you did, he shoved the car a bit as, sending you into a spin. The passenger side slammed into the wall of the highway and you braced yourself for the impact. You barely heard Steve shouting your name in concern as your body screamed at you in pain, biting your knuckle to keep the tears at bay. "I'm fine, you guys don't worry about me!" you shouted back through gritted teeth as you began taking in your surroundings.

You unbuckled your seatbelt with shaking hands, trying to check on your tech that was on the passenger seat but now lay in the floorboard. You picked up the laptop and control tablet and booted them up, concluding that both were worse for wear but still usable. You sagged back into your seat for a moment as you let out a sigh of relief. You took a moment to be grateful before you began shoving everything back into the backpack you brought it in.

Judging by a glance out of the window, you knew there was a whole team ganging up on Sam, Steve, and Romanoff, and you knew you needed to get out of there as soon as possible. But right as you got the final item in your bag, the car door was ripped open and you let out a scream, covering your head in fear of your could-be attacker. "It's just me," you heard Steve say reassuringly. "I needed to make sure you were okay."

"Steve, I told you not to worry about me," you replied, reeling in your awkwardness.

"It's my job to make sure everyone's safe," he said while helping you out of the car.

You smiled at him, but that smile fell as you saw the Winter Soldier aiming a grenade launcher right in the direction of you and Steve. You shouted Steve's name in terror as you pointed out the incoming threat to him, unable to do more as your body once more froze up in the face of fear.

"Shit!" Steve shouted, pulling you into his arms and crouching the two of you behind his shield. The reverberation rattled your ears as you squeezed your eyes shut and held onto Steve for dear life as you both fly off the highway and into a bus below! Steve helped you up after you landed and looked you in the eye, saying sternly, "The fight is coming down here. I need you to get out of here and safe, okay?"

"But Steve-" you tries.

"No. I'm not risking your life anymore today. I need you to stay safe. Go." You held eye contact with him for a few more lingering seconds before finally nodding and making your way off the damaged bus right before it was riddled with gunfire courteous of the Winter Soldier.

When you were a safe distance away from the scene, your legs suddenly stopped carrying you and you seemed unable to stay away from the fight going on on and below the highway... You knew Steve would be upset with you for staying, but instead of running away from the action, you ran off to a nearby building and hid around a corner. You were a journalist after all, and journalists follow the story. So you took out your drone and activated its stealth mode which flickered on and off before finally staying blended into the environment.

Pulling out the tablet and brushing off some of its broken glass before sending the drone into the air, you began capturing the fight between Steve and his attackers. As you flew the drone further away though, the tablet signaled that the stealth mode range was compromised and the camouflage was wearing off due to the damage sustained in the crashes. "Shit..." you whispers to yourself, not wanting to compromise yourself or Steve on accident because of the drone.

You peeked around the corner and spotted a car that would be good for cover so you quickly ran to the car and crouched behind it. When you did this, the stealth mode went fully active again! You silently cheered but your mini celebration was interrupted when all of a sudden, the car you were hiding behind got flipped on its side, flying clear over you! You dove out of the way and tried to get to your feet to run, but were brought to your feet instead forcefully by the Winter Soldier. He grabbed you by the collar before turning your body away from him, holding a knife cold to your throat.

"Please, no," you pleaded, shutting your eyes and trying to calm your breathing. You felt the cold metal blade on her throat about to push deeper when the man's arm was pulled out and away from her body.

You heard his body hit the pavement and your eyes flew open to see Steve fighting the man as he shouted, "What did I tell you? Get out of here! That's an order!"

You nodded furiously, getting to your feet after a few seconds, breathless and shaking. You scrambled to gather your tablet from the ground, calling the drone back to you as you did. You managed to get the drone into your backpack and ran off, not knowing where you were going, your mind racing too fast to process anything. You turned a corner a few blocks away and the wine was knocked out of you as you were clotheslined by someone in black tactical gear and a helmet. You fell to the ground with a hard thud before being forced back up and into handcuffs.

"Just follow my lead. Pretend to be knocked out and I'll get all of us out of here," said a familiar voice. After a few seconds of recouping from your fall, you recognized that the voice belonged to Maria! So you nodded subtly before letting your body go a bit limp as Maria dragged you to a nearby van where you were thrown onto the seat in the corner. You slouched in the corner where you were tosses, not daring to move because the guards in the van seemed like they were real deal HYDRA workers and not undercover like Maria was.

After a few more minutes, Sam, Steve, and Romanoff were also thrown into the van. As an extra precaution, Steve was put into specialized handcuffs and strapped into his seat by a metal contraption so he couldn't use his strength to escape.

When he saw you slouched in the corner, Sam said your name in concern and it made your heart happy to know that someone was worried about you. He looked at the guards and snapped, "Why the hell is she here?"

Maria ignited her electric baton his way while subtly nudging your foot to signal you could wake up from your fake daze. You slowly sat up and looked around to see a stunned Steve, pissed off Sam, and bleeding Romanoff. Concern filled your eyes seeing the state of your colleagues; you had never seen them look so defeated, especially Steve.

Before you could say anything to anyone about what happened, Steve broke the silence with a barely audible mumble of, "It was him. He looked right at me like he didn't know me..."

You shot Sam a confused look to which he mouthed, Bucky. With furrowed eyebrows, you mouthed back, the Winter Soldier? to which you got a nod. Your eyes went wide at this information. The Winter Soldier was Bucky? Steve's childhood best friend? That couldn't be possible... Steve told you that Bucky died back in the 40s... He watched him fall off of a moving train! To aid his confusion as well, Sam asked Steve, "How the hell is that possible? It was over 70 years ago."

"Zola," Steve replied. "Bucky's whole unit was captured in '43 and Zola did experiments on him. Whatever he did helped Bucky survive the fall. They must have found him and..."

Romanoff finally spoke up with a strained voice, telling him, "None of that is your fault, Steve."

"Even when I had nothing, I had Bucky..." Steve said in a faraway voice, unfazed by the conversation going on around him as his mind raced through everything he could have done differently that may have changed the outcome of the situation.

Sensing that there wasn't going to be a way to get Steve out his his head at the moment, Romanoff left it be, leaning her head back from the pain of her gunshot wound. Upon seeing this, Sam told the guards, "We need a doctor in here. If we don't put pressure on that wound she's gonna bleed out." In response, Maria ignited her baton in his direction again. Sam got pissed off at that and snapped, "I swear if you zap that thing at me again..."

Suddenly though, Maria turned the baton on the other guard in the truck rendering him unconscious within a matter of seconds. After she did that, she took off her helmet and groaned, "God, that thing was squeezing my brain." She then looked at Sam and asked, "Who's this guy?"

Sam looked at her with an equal amount of confusion, asking, "And who are you?"

You took the opportunity to introduce the two, saying, "Sam Wilson, Maria Hill. Maria Hill, Sam Wilson. Sam was part of the 58th Pararescue, Maria is Fury's right-hand man at SHIELD and my best friend. We can trust her."

Maria smiled at you before uncuffing you all and shaking Sam's hand. "Do you have a codename yet?" In response, Sam sent her a confused look, so she said, "Well Steve is Captain America, Romanoff is Black Widow...what about you? You've got that badass set of wings, you've gotta have a codename."

"Uh..." Sam hesitated, unsure of how to respond.

"I think we can come up with nicknames later, what's the plan to get us out of here, Hill?" Romanoff asked through her teeth.

"Right," Maria said while igniting her baton once more. "This thing's powerful, everyone cover your eyes," she said before proceeding to burn a hole through the floor of the truck for you all to escape from.

You looks at the hole in the floor and the road zooming past beneath it with wide eyes and asked, "So what are we supposed to do, just tuck and roll?"

"Look, we've all been through a lot the last few days, this is the least of our worries," Romanoff told you, standing up and smoothly rolling out of the bottom of the truck despite her injury.

She was followed by Maria, leaving you with Sam and Steve in the truck. You shook your hands out and mumbled, "This is absolutely insane..."

Steve saw your hesitation and offered, "You can go with me if you like. Since you're still pretty beat up and all."

"As long as that's okay with you," you replied, staring nervously at the hole in the floor and fiddling with the ring on your thumb.

"We don't have any more time to lose, let's get moving," Sam interjected, rolling out of the bottom quicky and leaving just the two of you in the truck.

Steve offered his hand to you and you shyly took it. "On three. One...two," Steve held you close to his body as the pair of you jumped from the vehicle on three. You landed safely after rolling for a second, the trip making you dizzy. As you slowed down and began to regain your bearings, your heart raced, though you weren't sure if it was because of the jump or how Steve had held you. You shook your head, clearing it of the distracting thoughts as Steve helped you off the ground. "You okay?" he asked as he looked you over for any new injuries.

You simply nodded and shoved your shaking hands into the pockets of your pants, not wanting him to see how nervous you were under his watchful eye. A few seconds later, Maria and Romanoff pulled up in a car, the latter in the back, so you didn't have to worry about that too much longer. Sam got in the backseat along with Steve and they began tending to her gunshot wound as best they could as Maria drove off to a secure location.

After a few minutes of silence, you finally spoke up and told Maria, "Thank you for the rescue. I should have called you after what happened, but Fury said not to trust anyone in the agency."

"I understand. I'm glad you followed orders, this could have been a very different situation if you got caught up with a compromised agent."

There were a few more quiet moment before, from the back, Steve asked Maria, "How much longer until we get there? She's still losing a lot of blood."

"Almost there, hang in there, Romanoff," Maria said, speeding up as she reached the outskirts of town. A couple more minutes passed and she reached an abandoned building surrounded by trees. "We're here."

Everyone got out of the car, Steve supporting Romanoff as you all make your way into the building. As you took in the building that had seen better days and the half fallen down trees around the area, you turned to Sam and whispered, "Well this place isn't creepy at all..."

"You're telling me," he mumbled back as he took in his surroundings.

The group made the way into the dark building and Maria started calling out down the hall, "GSW, she's lost at least a pint."

"Maybe two," Sam said out to the medical staff as they converged on Romanoff.

"Let me take her," a man shouted as he approached.

"She'll want to see him first," Maria said to the man who nodded. You cocked your head in confusion at the statement but you didn't have time to ask any questions before Maria took you all to a room where Nick Fury was on a hospital bed, worse for wear, but alive.

The Director looked up at the group and said, "Well it's about damn time."

Still holding out to his silence at the stranger situation unfolding in front of him, Steve sat Romanoff down on a chair and the medical staff started working on her wound and getting her blood. Once everyone was settled, Fury started detailing his injuries to the group and then looks over to you and said, "You got damn lucky, Agent."

You managed a small smile, saying, "If we're honest here I'm running on pure adrenaline right now, sir. Fury. Sorry." At the fumble, Fury cracked a smile and laughed a little, but it seemed like it hurt him to do so.

"Why all the secrecy?" Steve finally asked after a few more seconds of tense silence. "Why not just tell us?"

Maria spoke up first, telling him, "An attempt on the Director's life had to look successful."

"They can't kill you if you're already dead," Fury agreed. "Besides, I wasn't sure who I could trust," he continued which earns a solemn nod in response. With that statement, everyone decided to get themselves cleaned up from the fight and gather their thoughts before going to the makeshift meeting room to devise a plan to stop HYDRA.

"We have to stop the launch," Romanoff told Fury as you all gathered back into the make-shift meeting room.

"Well, I'm not sure the Council is taking my calls anymore," Fury quipped back while opening a briefcase.

"What's that?" Sam asked upon seeing the contents.

"Once the helicarriers get airborne they'll become fully weaponized," Maria informed him, turning her laptop to show the group.

"So we will need to breach those carriers and replace their targeting with our own," Fury piggybacked.

"And it has to be all three, because if even one of those ships remains operational... a whole lot of people are going to die."

"Including probably all of us..." you said pessimistically under your breath.

"Unfortunately, yes," Fury replied with a sigh. "We just have to operate like everyone onboard those carriers is the enemy, and maybe, just maybe we can salvage what's left of SHIELD."

"We're not salvaging anything," Steve interrupted him abruptly. "We're not just taking down the carriers, Nick, SHIELD has to go down too."

"SHIELD had nothing to do with this."

"Well you gave me this mission, this is how it ends," Steve told him. "SHIELD has been compromised, you said it yourself. HYDRA grew under your nose and you didn't even notice."

"I noticed. Why do you think we're meeting in this cave?" Fury asked hostilely.

"Yeah? And how many paid the price before you did?" Steve asked. His temper flared for a second and raised his voice as he motioned toward you and said, "She could have died the other day, and here you are just telling her she got lucky. She shouldn't have to have been lucky because none of this should have happened!"

Fury took the words in with a nod. He paused for a few more seconds before saying to Steve, "I didn't know about Barnes until it was too late."

"Would you have even told me?" Steve shook his head before saying, "SHIELD, HYDRA, it all goes."

From beside you, Maria sighed and nodded, saying, "He's right..."

Fury looked to Romanoff and then you who visibly deflated, then to Sam who put his hands up, saying, "Don't look at me, I just do what he does but slower."

"Well...it looks like you're giving the orders now, Captain," Fury told Steve. Steve nodded and then left the room shortly followed by Sam to gather his thoughts about everything that was about to go down.

"Everything okay?" Maria asked after a beat of silence, putting a hand on your shoulder.

You sighed and shrugged, replying, "It's just...with this job...with SHIELD, I had a purpose. I did good for this world...or so I thought. I felt like I was doing something with my talents and I felt like I wasn't just wasting space and without it... I'm just afraid that in the fallout of this, everything they ever said about me would be proven right..."

"Hey, it's okay. What they said isn't true and you know it," Maria said as you stood up while shaking your head.

"I'll be back..." you said, taking a shaky breath as you left the room. As you walked away, you shook out your hands and tried to push away your intrusive thoughts from the past. You were so distracted that you didn't even notice yourself passing by Sam and Steve as you gravitated toward the fresh air out outside. Fresh air was something your lungs craved as your breathing became shallow while you tried to fight off your rising anxiety alone.

"Is she okay?" Sam asked when he passed Maria in the hall on the way back to the meeting room.

"I'll go talk with her, I'm sure she just needs a minute and then we can get moving."

When Maria reached you outside and stood beside you on the bridge, the two of you were silent for a few moments. "I'm sorry all of this is happening," she told you quietly.

"Yeah..." you said sadly. "Sorry, I didn't mean to get all existential back in there."

Maria smiled softly and told you, "No worries, just get out of that head of yours and let's go save some lives. Captain's waiting."

[vexcraft]

CubScar Week Day 5: Pranks/Chaos (also on AO3 here!)

test round

“Cub- Cub, is that a shulker?!” Scar screeched, trying to escape the spinning shulker bullet that was now actively chasing him, taking all the same turns as he did. “Cub! You asked me to play Total Chaos with you, but you didn’t say you made changes to it! Traitor!”

“It was funnier to leave it be a surprise,” Cub snickered, amused by the sight of Scar scrambling away from the attacking mob. Everything seemed to be working well so far, just like he had expected. A little test round was still a good thing to have. “Wouldn’t be as chaotic if you knew what to expect every time.”

“This isn’t a surprise,” Scar yelled in overexaggerated horror as he managed to whack away the bullet with his sword, barely avoiding a potion that smashed into the ground right next to him. “This is a prank, you’re evil! Evil!”

Cub only laughed as he dodged a splash potion himself, waiting for Scar to notice the new shulker bullet that was quickly approaching him from behind. Going through all the trouble to get the shulkers here and in place had definitely been worth it - despite not working on full power for testing purposes, Total Chaos was more chaotic than ever.

“You’ve actually lost your mind!” Scar rambled, still unaware of the looming danger. “Shulkers! Insane! Who even thinks about something like that? There’s not a single crumb of sanity left in you-”

The sentence was cut off by a yelp as the shulker bullet crashed into Scar’s back. He kept shouting as the levitation hit, easily lifting the man off the ground into the air. “Cub!” Scar yelled as he thrashed in the air, trying to find something he could grab onto to stop floating off. “I will kill you myself, you should have told me-, I’m banning you from cuddling for at least a week!”

Still unable to contain his laughter, Cub tried his best to avoid the falling potions and dripstone as he made his way over to where Scar was, hovering maybe six blocks up in the air. Cub could hear him mutter overdramatic curses under his breath as he hit away another sneaky shulker bullet.

A scream rang out in the already loud arena as the levitation effect wore off and suddenly Scar was no longer in the air. He fell with a shriek, hopelessly trying to get into a position that wouldn’t leave him crashing painfully into the ground.

Instead of hitting the ground, Scar fell right into Cub’s arms - just like he had calculated. The man in his arms blinked up at him in confusion for a moment before looking away with a huff.

“Do you always have to be so- Argh, I can’t even be mad at you!” Scar whined, trying to act offended, though it was obvious he appreciated the save. “You’re so evil and then all the sudden you’re so considerate and nice and lovely, and then you’ll probably be evil again later!”

Cub hummed as he stepped to the side to avoid a piece of falling dripstone, pressing a quick kiss to Scar’s lips before setting him down on his feet. “So evil, right?”

“Stop being nice when I’m trying to prove a point!” Scar pouted, doing nothing to hide his flush. He looked like he was having trouble continuing his argument, before a potion exploded right at his feet, making him stumble backward.

“That’s it!” he declared once he managed to reclaim his balance, glaring at the remains of the potion on the ground like it had insulted him personally. “Only an evil and insane person would do-” Scar gestured wildly to everything around them, “-all this!”

“Yeah?” Cub asked, still laughing. “Just wait until I add the tridents.”

The look of pure horror on Scar’s face was priceless.

“The tridents- Cub?!”

[river-bottom-nightmare]

i want dick grayson to be annoyingly perfect in the smallest of unimportant ways. and i want it to irritate the living hell out of everyone around him

every now and then, jason and dick will go to different chili dog carts around the city, and dick will sit and nod in agreement as jason nitpicks the food, occasionally offering his own two cents. the conversations are tense and if the topic strays from anything except food jason books it, but it’s progress, and dick’s grateful. but he doesn’t understand why jason always growls at him when he’s preparing his chili dogs, chalking it up to jason’s obsessiveness about that food in particular. dick figures he’s probably doing it wrong. until one day, jason bites out a rough question, asks him how he did that. dick’s confused, until jason points out, “you tear open the top of the ketchup packet in a perfect line every time. and you get all of the ketchup out of the packet in one smooth squeeze, and you never get any on your fingers, and i don’t understand how.”

roy was, arguably, a better archer than ollie. green arrow had been birthed from the island, from the trauma of survival. roy, however, had been practicing since he was a kid, and now that he was well into his twenties, he could safely say he was one of the best shots in the world. he could beat all his friends at darts, shoot an apple off wally’s head, and was generally pretty awesome. or, he would be awesome, if only dick fucking grayson would stop making every single shot of anything he threw in a trash can. no matter what he was throwing away, no matter the angle, no matter the wind or rain, as long as the trashcan was in eyesight, anything dick tossed would inevitably end up inside the garbage. sometimes, dick barely even glanced at the damn thing, just took note of it a threw the trash, expecting it to land in the proper place. and it always did. the worst part was, dick didn’t even seem to notice it. he wasn’t actively trying to make every shot. when asked, dick just shrugged and said “we had some pretty good knife throwers in the circus.”

tim’s memories starting out as robin were a whirlwind, a push-pull of bruce’s mistrust, then bruce’s acceptance, of dick’s fear and hesitation, then of dick’s love. he still remembered dick making the two of them hot chocolate in the kitchen after a day of training, tim’s muscles sore and entire body aching but the feeling of pride, because he was good enough to be robin, he knew he was. he hadn’t expected that to happen anytime soon again, given the way their relationship had fractured after tim had left dick’s batman, a terrified fury in his eyes. yet, he’d been proven wrong when, after a particularly rough arkham breakout, alfred asked both dick and tim to stay instead of returning to their own apartments. just because the manor brought back a feeling of warm nostalgia, however, doesn’t mean it kept the nightmares away. he came down to the kitchen and saw dick already up, moving around the stovetop. with a knowing look in his eyes, dick grabbed another mug to make tim some hot chocolate. tim was washed over with a feeling of relief, of acceptance. dick slid the mug towards him and tim took a sip, letting the rich chocolate warm him up from the inside. it was delicious. his little sigh of pleasure must have been audible, but then he remembered something he noticed. “dick. did you use alfred’s recipe for this?” and dick laughed, responded with, “nah. too much work. i just sort of tried to remember what was in hot chocolate, and eyeballed most of the ingredients. i’m glad it turned out good though. no clumps too, that’s good.”

donna didn’t care how old she got, playing in the park with dick never got old. as one of her oldest friends, the two of them could just walk around the park, in companionable silence, just letting themselves relax and enjoy the moment. so, of course, dick would break the silence and ask if she had any earbuds, because it was getting to quiet for him. donna laughed, and reached inside her pocket, fingered past the keys, and grabbed the headphones. the tangled little ball that came out made her sigh, and she pulled on an earbud to loosen it, only managing to make one of the many knots tighter. then, dick took the headphones out of her hands with a here, i got it, and with a few quick tugs, the tangled monstrosity unraveled easy as breathing. then, completely unaffected, he handed her an earbud, putting the other in his own ear. “i’m the one who’s got a lasso,” she said, ignoring dick’s snort and quip about how earbuds and a lasso are two completely different things, donna.

cass hadn’t expected to enjoy such a gentle, graceful form of athletics, but after a few lessons, it had become apparent that ballet could be far from gentle. it pushed her, made her practice and strengthen herself, and she’d fallen in love with the art quickly. however, the most frustrating part of the entire thing had little to do with actually dancing. the school bruce had helped pick out was prestigious, which meant a strict dress code, which meant her hair had to be in a bun. unfortunately, her hair never seemed to want to cooperate. after her latest attempt, falling into a mess of hair at her nape that had so many locks falling out, cass contemplated how mad the teacher would be if she showed up in a ponytail. at that moment, dick peeked into her room, having heard her frustrated noise, and asked if he could do anything to help. cass pointed to the mess of hair, not even remotely contained by the hair tie, and blew a strand out of her face. dick smiled with understanding, then came into her room, grabbing the comb on her bed and standing behind her in front of the mirror. he smoothed her hair with the comb, then pulled it this way and that, twisting and turning and wrapping until, two minutes later, a picture perfect bun sat atop her head. cass blinked with surprise. “first try,” she said, staring up at him, but he just shrugged and said, “it’s not that hard. you want me to drop you off?”

bruce could admit that he rather enjoyed undercover missions. it was an extended game with high stakes, a test of his own acting skills. with makeup changing his face, an expertly made wig, and a demeanor completely different from both brucie wayne and from batman, he swept through the crowd of greasy men, looking for a specific contact. then, he caught sight of someone specific indeed, though they weren’t his contact. eyebrows raised in a what are you doing here? gesture, he slid onto a barstool. from behind the bar, dick offered him a blinding smile, cleaning a glass. he tapped his wrist twice, a clear message. undercover, same as you. then, dick grabbed a couple bottles from underneath a shelf, flipping them in his hand and pouring with grandeur. bruce noticed he hadn’t put any alcohol in his little mixture, only making it seem as if he had. the flashy moves were entertaining, bruce could give him that. dick slid him the drink and bruce took a sip, eyebrows raising in brief surprise. “this is good. bartending?” dick put the bottles and the lemon away, unimpressed. “it’s not like it’s hard. just mixing a couple ingredients. no biggie.” bruce was fairly certain bartending was more difficult than that, but just then, his target came into view. 

steph understood some of the bats’ frustration with dick, she really could. he hadn’t exactly been a welcome and opening batman, that’s for sure. regardless, as the few masks left in gotham had to work together, and she’d gotten to know the man pretty well. and she enjoyed his company as nightwing much more than batman. she dropped onto his balcony in his bludhaven apartment, announcing her presence in that loud-subtle way. dick was nestled in a couple blankets on the couch, going over a couple files, apparently just back from patrol if the small bandage on his neck and bags under his eyes were any indication. nevertheless, he brightened when he saw her and she nodded when he asked if she wanted to spend the night. he moved some of the papers to make room for her on the couch, but she flitted into his bathroom, going through the nail polish bottles she knew he had, and grabbing a shade of red that caught her eye. she tossed him the bottle and put her fingers in his lap, talking aimlessly about a movie she watched with cass. dick seemed to relax amidst her jabbering, and he shook the bottle a couple times before opening it and focusing on her right hand. but as he started, steph paused her rambling and focused on him instead, holding her hands gently and brushing paint onto her nails. he managed to cover her entire nail in three easy strokes, smooth and glossy, not a hint of paint on her skin. the nail was practically perfect. oh god she was jealous. “got a lot of practice with this, grayson?” she asked, and laughed at dick’s mock-offended of course not!

damian wasn’t one for photography, and he could grudgingly admit drake was far better at that particular skill than he was. however, his art class had promised to cover all types of media, and had upheld that pledge. the next two weeks were dedicated to photography, and their final project for the unit had to be a small collection of photographs. animal photography, of course, was damian’s chosen subject, and the knowledge that animal photography was one of the hardest skills to master only had damian wanting to do it more. days later, however, he could admit that it was trickier than expected. how had he never noticed how active his animals were? they never sat still, and every single picture came out blurry. grayson, upon coming across him in the manor grounds, noticed his futile attempts and asked if he could help. damian acquiesced the camera to grayson, who looked through the lens, finding the right angle and background, adjusting the focus settings slightly. then, he let out a sharp whistle and snapped his fingers. in nothing short of a miracle, damian’s pets pasued to look at him, only for a second, and the shutter clicked furiously. damian flipped through the photos, a good many of them clear and wonderful. damian snapped in irritation when dick ruffled his hair and said, “now you try!” it definitely wasn’t as easy as grayson made it look.

babs didn’t really know what she was expecting when she broke up with dick. there was hurt on both ends, and distance for a while, and she had no idea how much she’d miss him. but after a couple months of working together, of remembering that underneath the romantic tangles, their friendship was strong, she’d gotten to the point of dick randomly dropping by her apartment again. the downside was, dick kept randomly dropping by her apartment again. he stole her snacks and messed up her filing system and was so irritating that barbara almost forgot how relieved she was at having one of her best friends back. fortunately, it did come with benefits, because when he was bored, he did some of her chores for her. pausing in the doorway, she smiled at the sight of dick folding her clothes and putting them away. the gesture was platonic now, but no less appreciated. she pushed her wheelchair forward, and in greeting, dick told her how much he wanted to steal all her patterned socks. babs reminded him they wouldn’t fit, and laughed at his pout. dick grabbed one sock off the top of the laundry basket, then dug his hand into the pile of clothes randomly, coming up with the second sock in an instant. folding them together, he repeated the process for each pair. “that...that was fast. you got all of them?” babs asked in confusion. “yes? why, did you expect some to be missing?” was dick’s reply as he shook the wrinkles out of a sweater.

wally was never surprised. he knew dick better than probably most people in the world. he’d gone from frustrated and jealous of dick’s random talents, to admiring and appreciative, to just accepting them as a fact of life. dick’s phone never cracked if he accidentally he dropped it. dick never buttoned up shirts wrong, aligning each button with the right hole perfectly on the first try. dick could plug in usb ports the right way. dick always remembered which light switch was for which room, no matter whose house they were at. dick could pop a cd out of its case without ever smudging the disk, holding it by the rim perfectly. and dick always seemed to know when wally needed a day off, to just visit their old haunts, grab some ice cream, and spend the day talking away on a rooftop. that was just something his best friend could do. and wally would never tell dick, but underneath his fake irritation at it, but he loved him for it.

tag list:  @comicsandhoney @birdy-bat-writes @elles-shitposts-personified @subtleappreciation @screennamealreadyused @pricetagofficial @catxsnow @astroherogirl @yesboopityboop @dangerduckjpeg

[mythandral]

"how is it you're never scared?" - for the prompts pls :D

It had been a relatively quiet afternoon until he got the linkshell call. A young man’s voice, panicked, and a frantic explanation of a situation that had unfolded that went along at one hundred malms a bell. Despite the speed at which they went, Myth had little trouble following Joda’s words- there had been an explosion (not unusual) while he had been working on a project, and more pressingly the workshop he was using had caught alight, threatening not only to ruin the building but destroy countless hours of work.

Myth teleported as fast as he was able. Joda was no stranger to the odd accident, so it must have been fairly serious for him to sound quite so frightened. Indeed, from the aetheryte plaza he could see the billowing smoke in the air. Still, he was confident enough that he could get it under control, greeting Joda with a casual wave and carefree smile which felt very out of place once he had located the garlean standing anxiously near the burning building.

The building was stone, sturdy, and with goggles down and one of the respirators which he always kept on his person on he entered, not needing to worry about the building collapsing onto him. The fire was intense and he could easily see how it was too much for Joda to handle on its own, but it was mainly contained in one corner of the room. In addition, he had access to something that Joda didn’t- magic- and just as he had suspected the situation seemed manageable.

Despite his mother’s best efforts he’d never been much of a conjurer, but spurred on by his knowledge of red magic and engineer’s ingenuity he had previously devised a modified stone spell which covered flames with a layer of dirt just for such occasions. Myth was almost grateful for the opportunity to try it out, unfazed by the danger of the situation before him, and he was elated when a couple of casts revealed that it worked like a charm. Soon, not only had the blaze been extinguished but many of the building’s contents had been saved, albeit in desperate need of a clean.

He emerged triumphantly not long after, buzzing with adrenaline and wearing a self-assured smile on his face which was revealed when he removed his breathing apparatus. Joda looked very glad to see him, not only due to his success but the crowd of people that had gathered in the meantime that were angrily demanding the engineer tell them what had happened. Myth could tell that he was out of his depth, making futile attempts at rambling explanations, and the elezen quickly stepped in. A cool head and good grasp of diplomacy due to the company he kept went a long way, and soon the crowd, along with their ire, were dispersed.

That left just the two of them. Joda was definitely a little shaken, and a lot quieter than usual, but he still managed to fix Myth with a grateful smile. Although his mouth wasn’t moving his mind certainly was, and Myth could see the cogs turning. He waited patiently for Joda to speak.

“How is it you’re never scared?” Joda finally asked, sounding unusually contemplative. Myth suspected there was more to the question than engineering projects gone awry, but he answered at face value nevertheless.

“I already knew what to do- there wasn’t anything for me to be afraid of.”

“No, no, not just the fire. What I mean is- well, you’re so calm all the time, and not just about things going wrong but… everything. People. You’re not scared of people, even when they’re mad at you or ridicule you. And I wish I could be like that- be like you, I mean. How do you do it?”

Myth smiled at him reassuringly- the crowd had really gotten under Joda’s skin, then, but he knew it wasn’t just about them. He took a moment to mull over the question. It wasn’t true that he was never frightened, not by a long shot, but the other man didn’t need to be privy to that. After all, Joda looked to him for strength and stability and he was going to do his best to provide it. His nightmares could stay between himself and Aymeric, and his panicked thoughts could remain just as they were: thoughts. Though, Joda was right about people - Myth’s fears tended to be far less tangible. “I know I’m strong enough that I don’t need to worry about what others think. Perhaps that’s unhelpful- but I believe that’s true of you, too. Together, in time, we’ll get you there,” he said confidently. Joda seemed to perk up a little at the compliment, but Myth wasn’t quite finished, looking the other man in the eye before he continued to speak, “Besides, should you need it- and not only to deal with people, mind- you can always call on my strength.”

[childotkw]

I've been holding of babbling about this, but today I browsed through every ILYWT post and: I absolutely get the hype. God, how I fucking love Barty.

There's this book scene in Goblet of Fire that's so good. Harry's trapped in the staircase, under his invisibilty cloak, has dropped the golden egg clue and the Marauder's Map and is about to be discovered by Filch and Snape, when Barty shows up and goes out of his way to help him out, doing some top notch acting and ridiculing Snape. Love it.

And, opposed to the real Mad Eye, Fake Allastor was exellent not only at reading people but also at interacting with them. Barty's intelligence allowed him to see right through people, but he also had great people skills. Praises, for example, were rare, but always incredibly on point. Like when he made Neville feel proud of his knack for Herbology or when he told Harry that he'd make a good Auror, something Harry actually took to heart, even after the betrayal. Even though every word of Barty was deliberate, it was still always meant, in those moments. And he was terribly engaging, too! No less terrifying than Mad Eye, but much more captivating and inspiring. The real Allastor always lacked that particular energy and he was always rather dry with everyone, which I always found disappointing. Barty nailed his gruffness, but he added the spice. He was a delight because he managed to come across as a real force, even though he was extremely contained, both mentally and physically, when he had to be Mad Eye.

And then there's his past! People would describe him as a nice, young man and would wonder how that could have happened to him. The fact that he actually cried for his mother in the cell, before quieting down and almost dying is still heartbreaking to me. And then: Whole years trapped under an invisibility cloak, with only his father's elf acknowleding his existence and caring for him?  Under the Imperio? That's gut wrenching. The man is evil, but he is almost just as sympathetic. You almost want to see him burning it all down.

Lastly, there must be some sort of PTSD. And yet. What I really don't get is how he managed to stay so sharp. Yes, there is certaintly a fair amount of insanity, but it's so controlled, at least when he wants it to be, when he's performing. He drank polyjuice potion multiple times a day and had to keep up his act 24/7 for an entire school year. With an already fragile mental state. But he kept in complete control the whole time and he fooled everyone. Having to drink the potion and being stuck in Moody's physical form aside, he was even enjoying himself. He's properly scary and I enjoy it so much.

I imagine that you will have a blast writing him. Twisted characters are the best, although I do hope that Harry will have the right influence on Barty, of course. I absolutely adore the idea of them getting tangled up into each other, god. You also mentioned wanting to write an OS about Barty's childhood and youth and I really hope you will. He's a thrill and I feel like you capture him beautifully.

This really was just a really long rambling session with no real value, since I don't have any questions, but it had to get out of my system. Stay safe and healthy, lovely.

Oh, never apologise about rambling to me about Barty! He's one of the most interesting characters to me at the moment, so I'm always excited when I see his name! Having people get so animated in my inbox is so much fun!

You raise so many good points!

Barty, while fucking insane, is someone with such control over himself and everything around him. He's constantly aware of the potential consequences of what he does and says, and he's a master actor.

You mention that Barty-as-Moody being excellent at reading and interacting with people, and it's so true. I like the idea, or the implication at least, that Barty is incredibly empathetic. He could almost instantly clock someone and their wants / weaknesses / insecurities, and then manipulate them with ease. Sure, a part of that can be attributed to the fact that 80% of the people he's having to manipulate are literal children - but he also knows how to play people like Dumbledore, Snape, Minerva, etc. His ability to connect with people just means he's extra effective at getting into their heads and tricking them.

And god yes - Barty's past is 100% both tragic and so, so intriguing. His journey from a regular, if very intelligent, young boy to a trauma-riddled and dangerous man would have been so awesome to see play out. His sheer determination and willpower is terrifying.

I'd say in ILYWT exploring the ways Harry will influence Barty in return will be so much fun. I'm really happy so many people like this AU because it's one of my favourites and I think the potential it has is so so awesome.

Thanks for sending this ask in - I do love these kind of things! You stay safe out there too, darling, and have a wonderful day! 💕💕

[denkamis]

Can you please write a fluff one shot about a sk8 the infinity like his girlfriend/boyfriend/s/o falls asleep on him

to anon: omg first request omgomg thank you so much for sending one in! i wasn’t sure which sk8 character you were referring to, so i decided to write one for both reki and langa! hope you don’t mind hehe <3 this is the one for reki, the one for langa will take a little bit longer bc of valentine’s & other requests but i hope you like this one regardless!

warnings: none, just some fluffy times with the best boy. reader is gn!

word count: 1.3k

sleepyhead. (reki x reader)

Late nights were certainly not a rare occurrence with your boyfriend, Reki. He was filled to the brim with energy and passion that practically flowed out of him like a geyser. Not that you were opposed to that at all, you found that it was one of the qualities that made you fall for him in the first place. Though, you worried that he wasn’t taking into consideration his own personal health during these late night excursions. Take for instance tonight, as it was slowly approaching two thirty am, it seemed that the redhead had no clear intention of stopping his work.

The two of you were cooped up in his workshop behind his house, Reki singing along to some “cool jams” as he called them. In reality, it was his Spotify playlist of the “best 2000’s alternative” music like Sk8er Boi by Avril Lavigne and Dear Maria, Count Me In by All Time Low. You were barely hanging onto your string of consciousness, the mere idea of sleep sounding like absolute heaven at this very moment. You were propped up on a stool in the corner, the stack of skating magazines Reki had given you to flick through in case you got bored now sat in a neat pile off to the side. You had read each one of them front to back twice already tonight.

It wasn’t that you didn’t love spending time with Reki. You enjoyed listening to his midnight ramblings of whatever came to mind. His ideas for new boards, designs for stickers, and other creative ways to beat his future S opponents were usually his topics of interest. No one really noticed how much of an imaginative person your boyfriend was. He could be impulsive and over excited at times, but his fantastic mind and his willingness to create made your heart soar. Not only that, but he was fairly handy when it came to fixing up and assembling his own boards like he was some mad scientist waiting for one of his many experiments to go right. You indulged him as much as you could, you really did enjoy his company. Even if you would much rather be curled up beside him snuggling in bed rather than hear Reki precariously make his way through the lyrics of Check Yes Juliet for what seemed like the seventh time.

“Reki,” you spoke up finally as the analog clock on the wall indicated the current time of two forty-three am. Reki looked up from Langa’s custom longboard, hair bouncing about despite already being contained by the headband he wore everyday. “Yeah?” he asked, throwing a glance over his shoulder only to see your weary eyelids and tired expression. His entire demeanour melted, lips jutted out in a tiny pout upon seeing his poor baby so tired.

He backed away from his worktable, dancing and tiptoeing across the floor to avoid stepping on any spare parts or tools he had left lying about his mishmash of a workshop.

“Is baby tired?” he cooed, sawdusted fingers beginning to tug and pinch at the corners of your cheeks. You groaned in annoyance, your sleep deprived state causing you to be a tad more irritable at this hour. “Reki,” you repeated in a more serious tone, ember coloured irises meeting your e/c ones. His calloused hands moved to cup your face, warmth enveloping you in a way that felt like home. The scent of pine and the remnants of orange crush soda invaded your senses. He smiled at you with that goofy face of his, the one that Langa constantly teased for being weird. Maybe it was your sleepy nature, but he looked even more gorgeous in the harsh LED lighting of his garage. Tiny strands of his auburn hair fell in front of his face as he tilted his head to the side, his smile growing as he watched your eyes begin to droop.

“Please. Let’s go to bed,” you asked of him as kindly yet firmly as you could. Reki clicked his tongue a bit, thinking for a moment before delivering a cute peck to your nose. “A few more minutes! Then we can head inside, grab a cookie or two and crawl into bed together! It’ll be just a jiffy okay? Here, you can even set an alarm,” Reki was already reaching for his phone in his hoodie pocket so that you could do just as he suggested. He stopped in his tracks as he felt your hands clasp around his hoodie, pulling him close so that you could hug his torso. He laughed at how clingy you could be while being so sleepy, his hand patting atop your head as a form of affection.

“Wow, you really are.. sleeping,” Reki’s voice trailed off as he looked down to be greeted by you completely passed out against him. Your arms held your boyfriend close, your face buried within the fabric of his yellow skater boy hoodie. Soft snores escaped you, your breathing slowed and calm as you finally let your consciousness slip out of your ever fleeting grasp. Reki’s face began to bloom with colour the longer he stared at you, panic setting in as he realized what was truly happening.

You had fallen asleep against him. Oh shit. Oh god. You were asleep against him. That meant you were so comfortable that you just so happened to pass out in his arms. Reki bit back a giddy smile, warmth cascading through him in a form of nothing but love radiating solely for you at nearly three in the morning. His heart thumped rapidly against his rib cage. No matter how long he had been with you, he kept discovering new things about you that made him absolutely lose his mind. You falling asleep against him definitely being one of those many things. You looked so peaceful, so unbothered and safe within his embrace. This warmth you had given him overtook his will to keep working, his hands moving your hair out of the way of your face to kiss your forehead.

“Sorry for making you stay up, sweet baby,” he apologized in a quiet tone. His hands moved your arms to around his neck, using his strength to lift you up and wrap your legs securely around his waist. “I can’t say I’m not grateful for you being here for me, though. You could have left too, yet you stayed here for me,” Reki spoke to your sleeping form. The fact that you had stayed up with him this late made him even more grateful to have you. Reki grunted a bit as he adjusted to the newfound weight of you around him, your hair getting in his mouth and his eyes squinting to find the light switch so that he could flick it off before leaving. Reki was always careful with you, handling you as if you were a sort of glass figurine he barely even had the permission to touch.

“You look so damn cute like this, y’know,” he continued to speak as he maneuvered his way about his house, trying his best to subdue his footsteps and make as little noise as possible. He didn’t want to wake up his mom or little sisters. “Man, I’m so lucky. Seriously really lucky to have someone like you in my life.”

In your sleep, you subconsciously nuzzled your head against his chest. He melted a bit, holding back a tiny noise of happiness as he began to beam like an idiot holding his partner. You were the most amazing person, the person who made him happy every single day without fail, the person who picked him up no matter how much he bailed or got hurt. He loved you more than anything, and he wanted to treat you as well as you treated him. Even if it meant carrying you to bed after a late night of him talking your ear off about skateboarding for three consecutive hours.

all works © denkamis 2021.

tags:

@meilbox

wanna be on the taglist? see this post!

[sturchling]

Hey, I was wondering if you could do a story of marinette moving to Gotham.

And going to gotham academy and having her own boutique. Damienette pairing. Cat noir salt. You dont have to if u dont want too.

Sorry for the long wait, work has been keeping me super busy lately. I hope you like this and it was worth the wait! I had a hard time trying to work in the Chat Noir salt, so its more like Adrien salt. Let me know what you think!

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Marinette was tired of Lila and her lies. She was tired of Adrien’s refusal to help defend her from the liar. And she was tired of everyone believing the liar over Marinette. Most of the school now believed that Marinette was a horrible bully that had been attacking Lila since she arrived. Marinette had been removed as class rep and was constantly given detention by Mr. Damocles. Marinette’s parents have been very supportive, and now realized that Lila was just a malicious liar. But even with their support, it had become to much for Marinette and she knew it was time to leave Paris.

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

Her parents were hesitant when she brought up the idea. Marinette had found a study abroad program where she could attend Gotham academy, hosted by Bruce Wayne himself. She discussed it with her parents, really hoping to convince them. They were obviously concerned for a number of reasons. The main one being the crime rate in Gotham. They knew that Marinette needed to get away from Paris, that things had gotten bad in the city for her. But they didn’t want to send her to a dangerous city where she could be hurt or killed. But after speaking with Marinette for several hours, they started to realize how excited Marinette was for the opportunity. While they were still worried, they knew this was the right place for Marinette. And they were comforted that if she was accepted, she would be hosted by and staying with Bruce Wayne. His manor is one of the safest places in the city. So, they agreed with Marinette that she could apply the program.

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

So Marinette applied to the study abroad program. She didn’t tell anyone at the school, not like anyone in the class was speaking to her anyway. She waited anxiously for news from the program, hoping to hear that she had been accepted.  The longer she didn’t hear anything, the more anxious she became. She was sure that she had been rejected and they just hadn’t told her. Marinette had just got back from a particularly bad day at school, when she noticed she had a new email. An email from the study abroad program. She raced to open the email, and started cheering when she read the line We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted into the Gotham Academy Study Abroad Program. Marinette raced downstairs and told her parents the news. The email said that she would be expected in Gotham by the end of the month. It went on to explain details of the program. That night the Dupain-Cheng family celebrated, and began preparing for Marinette’s departure. 

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

The last month of Marinette’s time in Paris seemed to drag on and on. Everyday she had to listen to Lila’s lie all day long and the whole class fawn over here. She had to endure Lila accusing her of bullying almost daily and almost daily detentions. But finally, it was her final day at the Dupont. She was almost giddy as she walked to Mr. Damocles’ office with her parents. When she entered the office and Mr. Damocles saw her, he just sighed. “What did you do now Miss Dupain-Cheng?” Then he saw her parents in the office and straightened up. “I didn’t do anything Mr. Damocles. I never did anything Lila accused me of, but I know you will never believe me on that. We are just here to get my academic records and inform you that I will no longer be attending this school after today.” Mr. Damocles was flustered by the sudden declaration. “What do you mean you won’t be attending anymore? Where are you going?” Mr. Dupain stepped forward, barely containing his contempt for this man who had been helping to make his daughter miserable. “Marinette will be studying abroad in America for the next year at least. Now, give us the academic records.” Mr. Damocles stuttered for a while, wondering how such a bully got accepted to such an amazing program. But soon, the Dupain-Chengs got the records from him and were on their way.

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

 Marinette went down to the locker room with her parents and started emptying her locker. Class hadn’t started yet so, everyone was still in the locker room. They were confused when Marinette started emptying her locker. Adrien, who was about the only  person that still talked to Marinette from time to time, approached the young designer. “Marinette? What are you doing?” Marinette didn’t look at any of them, continuing to empty her locker as she responded. “I am emptying my locker. Starting Monday, I will no longer be here for school. I am transferring to Gotham Academy.” The class stood in shock, they never expected Marinette to leave. Sure they were happy that Lila would be able to come to school in peace, but it would be weird without Marinette here. They just stood in shocked silence, as Marinette finished with her locker and walked out with her parents. 

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

Adrien was shocked by Marinette’s decision. Why would she leave? He knew things had been tough for her lately, but he had kept telling her that it would get better soon. Soon the class would realize that Lila was a liar. That she just had to wait a little longer. But Marinette had clearly given up and was running away. That wasn’t like Marinette at all. When he had the chance, Adrien was going to go pay her a visit in Gotham and convince her to return. 

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

Marinette was already loving Gotham. She had been met at the airport by Alfred who brought her to the manor. Mr. Wayne was very nice and introduced her to his children as well. Marinette was the same age as Damian and would be in the same class as him as well. Damian had expected to be irritated by this girl when he was first informed of their guest. But to his surprise, he didn’t find her presence as repulsive as everyone else. 

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

Weeks went by and Marinette was having a wonderful time. She had made some wonderful friends in her class, though she was nervous to try and make friends after Mrs. Bustier’s class. But she was welcomed warmly by her new class. Her and Damian had also grown close over the weeks. They had started dating recently, and would often spend their time together quietly working on their different craft projects; Marinette working on her designs, and Damian working on his most recent painting. The Waynes were shocked at the change Marinette had caused in the youngest Wayne. Damian was still a very reserved person, but he was considerably warmer to Marinette and had started to act warmer to his family as well. 

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

While Marinette wasn’t aware of it, her departure brought about Lila’s downfall. Lila hadn’t been at school recently, on a ‘diplomatic trip to Achu’, and because of that, she didn’t know Marinette left Paris. So when she came back, she was planning on making her next attack against Marinette’s reputation. She used makeup to make fake bruises and called up her tears as she entered the classroom. The class was horrified to see their friend crying and injured. They raced forward and asked Lila what happened. “It was horrible. As soon as I returned to the city last night, Marinette was waiting for me outside my home. She was so mad that she got detention for a week when I told Mr. Damocles that she had stolen my book. She beat me up and said if I ever said anything I would regret it! I am so scared!” Lila was proud of this performance. It was probably one of her best performances yet. But when she looked up at the class, she was surprised to see that the class was staring at her doubtfully. 

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

Alya, feeling dread in her stomach, asked “Are you sure it was Marinette last night? No chance it was someone else?” Lila, irritated that they were questioning her, didn’t notice the tension in the room. “Of course it was Marinette. I saw her face and there is no way it was anyone else last night.” Nino, who was now realizing that this could mean that Marinette was right and that Lila was a liar, asked “What do you mean Marinette attacked you last night? Marinette moved to Gotham almost two weeks ago. She couldn’t have attacked you last night.”  Now Lila was horrified. This was a major mistake. Lila was trying to back pedal, and figure a way out of this mess, but the class had realized at this point that Lila was lying and that she had probably been lying before when Marinette was still here. The class started to yell at Lila as they realized that she had been lying to them all this time. Lila raced from the room, not wanting to face the class. The class quickly tried to reach out to Marinette, to apologize and ask her to come home, but the number they had for her had been disconnected. Adrien was disappointed that Marinette hadn’t told anyone her new number, not even him. He was going to go to Gotham soon and try to convince her to come back. He was sure their Everyday Ladybug would be willing to come back.

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

One day, weeks after Lila’s exposure, Damian and Marinette were sitting in the garden just relaxing. After watching Marinette work on a new design, Damian said, “Marinette, you should really try to open a boutique. Your work is terrific and you would be very successful.” Marinette seemed shocked for a moment. “You really think I should? I wouldn’t even know where to start. And how would I afford a building? I don’t think I could do it.” Marinette continued to anxiously ramble, until Damian came to stand in front of Marinette. “Marinette, Angel, breathe. I am sure you would do wonderfully. And as for the building, my father has multiple buildings in the city that he isn’t using. I am sure he would allow you to set up in one of them.” After more convincing, Marinette agreed to at least ask Bruce about it. When they approached Bruce, he was very willing to help Marinette set up her first boutique. He had seen the girl’s designs and knew that she would be a major success. Marinette felt bad about just taking one of his buildings and accepting his help with getting everything she needed for the boutique, but she accepted when Bruce told her to consider it a loan if that made her more comfortable. Then, they immediately started setting up her boutique.

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

After about a month, everything was set up and Marinette’s boutique had opened under the name MDC. She was an instant success and quickly became very busy with several orders from big name clients. As time went on, Marinette began to feel like Gotham was her home. One day, after she had closed the boutique and was leaving with Damian to go on a date, they were approached by a familiar face. “Adrien?” Adrien smiled and approached her. “Hi Marinette.” Damian sensing the tension, stepped closer to Marinette. “Who is this Marinette?” Adrien looked at the boy standing next to Marinette and didn’t recognize him at all. “Damian, this is Adrien, someone I knew in Paris. Adrien, this is my boyfriend Damian.” That took Adrien by surprise, but he moved past it. He was sure that Marinette would leave this Damian and come back to Paris where she belonged.

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

“So what are you doing here Adrien?” Adrien smiled again, “I am here to bring you home Marinette! Lila has been found out and she is gone. You don’t have to keep hiding here in Gotham. You can come home and back to the class. Everything can go back to normal.” Marinette just stared at him, as Damian started to get angry. Adrien didn’t pick up on the tension. “So come on. Lets go get your things. We can fly back to Paris in the morning.” Adrien tried to grab her arm, but Marinette moved back, avoiding him. “I’m sorry Adrien, but I’m not going back. I am really happy here. I still have months with the study abroad program and may stay here permanently if I can. I have friends who wouldn’t leave me for a liar. Damian is here. And my boutique is doing really well. I am not ready to go back to Paris.” Adrien just rolled his eyes. “Come on Marinette, you have friends in Paris, and you can set up a new boutique in Paris. Its no big deal. So come on, lets go.” Adrien once again tried to grab at Marinette’s arm, this time Damian got in his way and shoved him back. “Marinette said she didn’t want to go with you so that is that. You should go now, you have embarrassed yourself enough.” Adrien glared at Damian, angry that he was getting in his way. “I am not leaving. Not until Marinette tells me to, so stay out of this.” Marinette stepped out from behind Damian, looking more confident then Adrien ever remembered seeing her. “Adrien you should leave. I am happy here and I am not going back to Paris. My ‘friends’ in Paris turned their backs on me because of the liar’s pretty words. My friends here would never do that to me. Now please leave.” Adrien was shocked, and didn’t move. Damian rolled his eyes and guided Marinette around Adrien and back to the manor.

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Adrien went back to Paris, alone, the day after his conversation with Marinette. He was surprised that Marinette wouldn’t come back with him. Mrs. Bustier’s class was sad when Adrien came back without Marinette. They had hoped she would come back, but unlike Adrien, they knew the chances were slim. While they were sad that Marinette was gone and that they had chased off such a good friend, they were happy that she had found a place that she could live happily. They tried to move on, hoping that one day they may get the chance to apologize to Marinette in person. 

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

Marinette stayed in Gotham after her conversation with Adrien. She finished her year with the study abroad program and then decided to live in Gotham permanently, with her parents blessing. She continued to stay at the manor, living happily with the Waynes. She continued using the horse miraculous to go back and forth to Paris for the akumas and soon revealed her identity to the Waynes once she realized they were the Batfam. Her boutique continued to be a major success. Her life had improved in every way it could. She was surrounded by true friends, she had a boyfriend who truly cared for her, her fashion business had started with great success, and she didn’t have to deal with the liar anymore. She was the happiest she had been in a long time, and she intended to be this happy for the rest of her life in Gotham.

[flying-elliska]

So idk if you still watch 911 but I’m feeling some type of way about it lol. So I’ve always been on the camp that buck and eddie are 100% queer coded but I never really thought the show would take it there because that’s the tale as old as time lol. But it’s never changed the fact that I definitely see a romantic quality to them. More so than other ships in shows that are canon 😂. But one of the peeps in charge basically said something along the lines of: it was never intentional on our part but when it goes out into the world people can interpret it how they want. People will see what they want to see and I’m not gonna tell them they’re wrong. And then she kind of proceeded to justify why people who see buck and Eddie has romantic as wrong 😂😂 what do you feel about them as a pair? I’d thought I’d lost any hope but what she said made me so mad. Not just buddie not being a thing or whatever, but more so what she said felt triggering in the sense that people across time have always told queer people that they read too much into things that aren’t there. When they are! And queer ppl are made to feel like they’re crazy. Idk it’s gotten me down that this shit is still happening. I’m glad that a show like that show you’re now reblogging about a lot exists. Not only pirates but gay ones. Subtle but the context is that they’re into each other. No reading subtext “wrong”. It’s refreshing lol

hello anon ! sorry that you're feeling down, let's see if I can lift your mood with one of my customary rambles lmao

I wasn't impressed with 911's last half season but I will probably catch up at some point. Anyway, I am also a Buddie shipper but I've always tried to keep my expectations low, because I've been there before.

Like, some of my first OTPs were a lot like this, and possibly worse (Destiel/Supernatural or Stucky/Marvel, for instance) - two badass dudes who'd go to hell and back for each other, closer relationship than with any female love interest, high levels of chemistry and subtext, would 100% be seen as romantic if it was a man and a woman, massive queer following writing meta and fic with more depth than canon ever had...and creators who kept insisting again and again and again that it was entirely straight. I got really tired of it, honestly. I know how it feels to get super hyped and to really see it and to end up feeling delusional. It's a waste of emotional and creative energy for me these days, so I'd rather invest in actual canon queer pairings - or keep my expectations very low.

I think it comes down to the same thing : heteronormativity. See, I think the creators are telling the truth - they didn't intend it as romantic. But sometimes stories get away from their writers, they end up writing something they didn't intend ; the question is, are they flexible enough to go with the flow, or are they going to stick to their first idea even though the characters might have evolved beyond it ?

I think there is very much a generational gap here. Most of the showrunners and writers involved in this grew up in the old school world where queer stories were almost inexistant, and the queer stories that did make it were firmly segregated - queer characters existed in this sort of contained ghetto where they were clear stereotypes, doomed to be tragic, evil, unhappy, etc - still at the very best there was always this very clear line between gay and straight people (and simply forget about bi/trans/nb/etc characters). Viewers had to be told right away who was gay and who was straight, otherwise it was uncomfortable. And generally if a character came out it would immediately become their entire story. You had Gay Stories TM - it was a genre in itself. The best version is where the gay character exists to carry a message, teach a lesson, or Provide Good Representation TM - but they still have to be Gay for a Purpose. There is this belief that there is a deep and fundamental division between straight and gay people. There's a reason why the rare bisexual in this model is almost always an evil slut - because they threaten this strict division, so their sexuality has to be attributed to their lack of morals or mental instability. Now, in these more progressive times, a lot of older people want to do better, but I think these writers still have this line in their head that separates gay from straight characters and it's impossible to cross. Even if they're queer themselves.

Meanwhile you have a newer generation of writers and audiences that are getting increasingly used to better, more explicit representation, where queer people are just people with complex stories that are just as rich and diverse, where the queerness is an explicit part of who they are that's not shoved under the rug but not the entirety of who they are either. Boundaries are more fluid, some characters experiment with gender and sexuality and it's less and less of a big deal, some people don't feel a need for boxes. Queer culture is acknowledged, queer identity is uplifted and analyzed in its full richness and nuance, it's part of the humor, there's obvious flirting, joy, playfulness - we delight in queerness, it's not just An Issue TM. A macho macho guy might turn out to be gay after several seasons and it's not considered absurd or weird. There is no longer this belief that that somebody's gayness has to be visible from outer space, or that there is something fundamentally distinct about men and women, or about m/f or m/m or f/f relationships - in fact some people might be neither or both and that's also great. Queerness bleeds into the mainstream instead of just seeking to assimilate. Some characters start out not written as queer but then the writers realize that wait, actually, this character being queer or these two characters being in love might greatly expand the story in incredible ways, so why not seize the opportunity and make queer fans really happy on the way ? And this is also a new language of love in general, based more on equal partnership, intimacy, wonder, mutual respect and support, transformative love, or even in more toxic dynamics, a mutual level of change and impact, etc - rather than an old fashioned thing with the strict gender roles where the dude is the savior/protector/etc and the girl is the prize/damsel in distress.

So, let's go back to the old school generation of writers. Under the heteronormative model, you write m-m and f-m relationships very differently (this is also the logic behind 'men and women can't be friends' - and lazy straight romance that assumes you will see a m/f pairing as romantic simply bc they stare at each other for too long). A m-f set of characters's default is romantic and a m-m pairing is platonic by default. So the same scene - for instance, a charged, long stare - is going to be seen as romantic for the m-f pairing and platonic for the m-m couple. This is what the writers assumed the audience would see. If you want a m-m pairing to be seen as romantic you have to explicitly label it as gay (generally with a lot of angsting, clichés and Lessons etc to signal to your straight audience that this is a Gay Story TM so they can prepare mentally and distance themselves without having to question their assumptions)

But our dear new generation doesn't fucking get that. They think it's absurd, and for good reason. Why should the same gesture be interpreted so differently depending on the gender of the people involved ? So then you have this m/m type of ship. The shippers are going to see the same language generally used in straight romances - heart to hearts, life or death situations, agonized looks, sacrifices for the other, symbolic parallels, commitments, long gazes, teasing, emotional intimacy, etc etc...and read it as also romantic, without the heteronormative lens that prevents the older generation from seeing this potential queerness.

Ok but - what happened in the writing room for us to get there ? Why do old school writers do use those tropes so damn much for their male characters ? Why are so many modern stories centered around 'bromances' ? Well, they're popular, for one. But another thing : homosociality is at the core of traditional masculinity, which is build by excluding anything female/feminine. And yeah, that's kind of gay, actually. But straight people have been raised to ignore that as hard as possible. And to go one further : queerness is one of the pillars of traditional masculinity - but straight people don't see it. Not just because this masculinity constructs itself with queerness as a boundary, as an other of 'what you should not be' (but end up being anyway because the ideal is impossible. under the regime of idealized toxic masculinity any man is always on the edge of falling into queerness. it's a regime of perpetual threat that always needs to be enforced harder and harder. lmaoo gay) Historically a lot of the typical, glorified spaces of masculine socialization and action hero icons - rugged cowboys, sailors, pirates, adventurers, soldiers, etc etc - tended to attract a lot of queer people, and so the same stories that serve to codify ideal masculinity are actually deeply queer in their fabric. Also there has been this tradition of idealizing these deep, 'brotherly' bonds between men, who tended to play a big role in idealized male socialization, as more noble and true and free than the utilitarian relationships between men and women that are limited by the constrained ideal of marriage, reproduction, family and home life. And these supposedly platonic male relationships are ultimately closer to the modern ideal of romantic love based on equality and partnership and emotional intimacy.

So you have your old school writer setting out to write a tough, cool action hero. He needs to get the girl to be cool but he can't get too close or emotionally involved with the girl or see her as an equal, because that's not cool. So any kind of deep relationship by default ends up being with men. Second step, your old school writer is going to use lots of macho very masculine tropes without realizing they're actually pulling on queer culture. One of the text book examples of this is SPN's Dean Winchester, whose creator, Eric Kripke, said he was inspired by Dean Moriarty from the beat novel On the Road. Now, Dean Moriarty is inspired by a real guy, Neal Cassidy, who was bisexual in real life, and there's actually an uncensored version of On the Road that is a lot more explicitly queer. Did Eric Kripke know this ? No, probably not. He pulled from On the Road because he wanted to allude to that sort of drifter, unattached, adventurous masculinity, he wanted that macho glory for his character - without knowing that in real life, a lot of those guys were, obviously queer as hell - makes sense for queer men to congregate at the margins of society, to need that freedom and that wilderness of the road, just as it makes sense for fans to read Dean Winchester, living on the margins, always fighting his demons and that heavy masculinity imposed on him by his father, as queer. The delusional ones here are not the fans ; really the problem, I would say, are the heteronormative blinders and lack of culture of the old school writers. They are using a slowly fading (but still annoyingly persistent) language, that of this willful ignorance that allows the heteronormative illusion to persist, this idea that the relationships between people can be arranged in neat little boxes.

I think when it comes to the 911 writers, they're obviously trying to be more progressive and enlightened than anything SPN ever did, but it's still a mainstream American procedural show, and I think they still have a lot of those old boxes in their heads. I don't think they intended it as queer and yet it's kind of crazy to me nobody realized the gay vibes of Eddie's introduction to the show and his rivalry with Buck at the start lmao like that gym staring scene ???? can you imagine if Eddie or Buck was a woman how that would have been read ? That's some heteronormative blinders right there, damn

And there's a reason why a lot of these controversies tend to happen around pairings of two tough, action hero, hyper-masculine characters. They're the last great bastion of heteronormativity. For a long time intimacy btw men was only shown in the context of death and violence, to mitigate any accusation of softness. Can you imagine how incredibly threatening it would be for your average straight dudebro viewer if this cool action hero guy they identified with turned out to be gay 'out of nowhere' ? (ie, without the usual Gay Story ahead please disidentify warning signs). The 911 writers know this, and they wouldn't risk it because I don't think they have either the guts or the creative leeway. On the other hand they know that the gay reading is popular with another viewer segment that is younger, more queer and female, so they keep playing up the vagueness and the allusions a little, which for me is the more reprehensible aspect of it all. This is how you get queerbaiting.

Anyway, what is my point ? Well, you're not delusional, darling anon. But I would also advise you to guard your heart a little, and maybe feed yourself with more explicitly queer stories, who do deserve your investment more with their courage. But I don't blame you for wanting more from these big mainstream stories that everyone watches on prime time TV. You deserve more, we all do.

I think we need to keep talking about heteronormativity and double standards and old hat narratives. The conversation around these ships frustrate me so much because they often, to me, focus on the wrong things - about what the creators secret intentions are or aren't. I think we should take them at their word when they say they didn't intend to make it queer, and then we should keep talking about how it is, anyway, and if they didn't intend that, that's their problem, not ours. We need to keep talking about the lazy, flimsy straight instalove story lines that are somehow held up as more valid romances than these really intense and intimate connections between men - why ? We also need more super tough macho guys to be revealed to be queer after a whole season at least of them kicking ass (did you see Black Sails yet lmfao best heterobaiting in history)

Now with Buddie I do have to add a caveat - there is this argument that because Buck and Eddie are basically co-parenting Chris, they have to be in love. I don't like that - I deeply believe in the importance of showing more platonic, friendship centered family arrangements and stuff that deviates from the nuclear family ideal, gay or straight. Like, some of my parents' friends basically helped raise me, they weren't in love with my parents lol. That said, this didn't convince me Buddie were not in love either. But my point is, I would find this story of platonic family bonds more interesting and revolutionary if it was actually a man and a woman helping each other raise a child without ever being romantically involved, just as friends. I want more stories that center the importance of friendship too, but I think it should be about m-f dynamics first. It's only fair lmao, because this whole 'they're just friends' thing has been used for way too long to dismantle queer readings of closeness.

[wolvesandpetals]

Loki x Sylvie Post-Finale Fanfiction (Angst, Rated Teen) Part 2 of 2

Part 1 is here:

She never knew it would hurt this much when the person she loves is right in front of her, but she can't reach out and touch him; when she is still her, he is still him, but everything else has changed, like an invisible lever in an old theatre changing the scenery in the background, bringing them both to the part of the play where they are hopelessly lost.

[[MORE]]

All it took was one single moment, one single decision, and everything feels irrevocably broken now. It makes her contemplate on the true nature of relationships, how fragile they are, and how easy it is to shatter them- and her.

The smoke is slowly clearing, and all that seems to be left is a man who is doing his best to keep his distance from her, physically and emotionally.

She can tell from the way he stands with his arms crossed, or his fists clenced when his hands are by his side, that he really doesn't want to hold her hand. How can something so simple as the touch of his fingers be so vital to her existence that it feels like something has been ripped out from inside her?

She wants to reach out and touch him, but she is scared that if he pulls away outright, any hope of reconciliation that she still has left will shatter into pieces.

And she really needs this hope. It's the only thing she still has left. It's the only thing that keeps her going.

---

He looks like a man with a mission.

They spent quite a long time together, running from the TVA, running towards the citadel at the end of time, hoping to achieve their goal of bringing down the one behind the curtains.

But that was her mission, and he was there for her. She was the one behind the wheels, he was the one keeping the sails afloat.

Now it's different. Now he has a defined goal, a glorious purpose.

She's seeing him in a whole new light now, and not just because he has switched to Asgardian leather and metal armors.

As far as she is concerned, she is better off doing it all alone. One woman army, nobody to get in her way, nobody to screw up her plans. Nobody to blame her if it all goes to shit.

Or so it was, until two months ago, when Mobius decided to enlist her help in fixing the multiversal madness.

She has never really worked with people before, and it's weird, to say the least. She never considered herself a team player, but she is finding herself hating the idea less and less lately.

And she swears it has nothing to do with him. Not the fact that they are working together, and seeing his face first thing in the morning brings her a sense of calm that she quite can't explain. Or the fact that their rooms are next to each other and it makes her feel secure enough to finally get some rest at nights. Or that this whole arrangement has kept them on talking terms, when they had gone their own separate ways otherwise.

Nothing to do with that at all.

---

Humans are stupid, and the biggest evidence of this is how they decided that two extremely powerful Gods skilled at magic, enchantment, and defeating an evil extra dimensional cloud that swallows everything it touches, should be delegated to the role of research. "You're clever. You're good at reading people. You can put yourselves in the shoes of the bad guys, no offense", they said, but really, what they meant was, "We can't trust you out in the field much." She knows it, he knows it. She just doesn't know why he's complying.

That's how they find themselves researching every single day.

She likes to think he's not the only reason why she's studying in the library instead of in the comfort of her room, but that'd be a lie.

At first, he chooses to sit at a separate table. But she keeps going over to his to "get his opinion" on something in the file she's reading, and finally, he gives in. Their current arrangement consists of him sitting in the chair in front of her, to the left, prim and proper, while she hoists her feet up on the table.

He falls asleep on the desk one night, face smacked against a file, the tiniest bit of drool forming at the corner of his mouth. It would be a hilarious sight, if her heart wasn't feeling what she can only describe as longing.

They should probably talk about it, like mature adults, but neither of them know how to do that.

All she can do right now is gather the courage to run her fingers through his hair. The touch is hesitant at first, as if one wrong move would make him wake up and push her back to square one. Slowly, she relaxes, letting her fingers dance on his scalp.

He stirs in his sleep. "Please Sif. I'm sorry. Don't cut off my glorious locks, please."

Now this is a story she must hear when things are better.

If things are better.

---

Doctor Strange joins them very briefly, very rarely, but the tension between him and Loki is hard to miss. It's worse than the current situation with her, and that's saying something.

"You don't really like Stephen, do you?"

Something inside him seems to shift, but he masks it behind a non-chalant look immediately and just arches an eyebrow at her. "He's Stephen now, is he?"

"Well, that is his name." She shrugs. "What do you call him?"

"Strange", he spits the word out with an amount of irritation that indicates there definitely is a story there. "That is his name", he mimics.

She can't help the smirk that spreads across her lips. "What did he do to you?"

"Nothing", he lies, ignoring the horrifying flashbacks of thirty minutes of endless falling. Not a single soul must ever know a mere human got the best of him. "What can he do to me? I'm a God among those mortals. He just irks me because he is so pompous, and arrogant, and he ceaselessly uses magic to toy with others."

She pretends to think deeply. "Now where have I seen that before?"

He scoffs. "You mock me, but I am nothing like him. For one, I am not rude."

"He seems fine to me", she declares decisively.

It's the first time in months that he gives her a cheeky grin. "That's because you're rude too."

---

They are still just containing the threats to their world, instead of finding a way to fortify the barriers between worlds and stop the threats from coming.

"Shouldn't we have a plan to seal off the other worlds from ours?" She asks him one day.

"They are working on it." He tells her, and then with a look of worry, adds, "I hope."

There are debates on what to do at the Avengers tower and at the TVA. Nobody seems to agree on what the best course of action is, but everyone seems to be following the general instructions of Doctor Strange.

During one such meeting, a Minuteman makes the mistake of voicing out loud how she wondered if things would be better if they were running according to their old boss's plans.

Sylvie feels the guilt wash over her once more.

"No", Loki tells them all firmly. The determination in his voice takes her completely by surprise. "Evil is evil. Lesser, greater, middling, makes no difference. The degree is arbitrary. The definition’s blurred." She catches him steal a glance at her direction. "We couldn't have left a dictator in charge just because it's convenient. Listen, I'm the bad guy. I've done horrible, unspeakable things. I thought humans needed to be ruled. I wanted to rule. But even I know that it's not right to take away a person's life completely. These are innocent people. You are innocent people. You have families back home, parents, children", a pause and a softening of his features, "-love. A whole past, a whole future. That man had no right to take it away from you."

His powers of persuasion are foreign to her, and it's mesmerizing to watch. Her enchantments cannot hold a candle to how he is able to just talk people into doing what he wants, thinking what he thinks, seeing what he sees.

"He who remains had a plan. One, singular plan, from one, singular man." There is absolute conviction in his voice. "It's not the only way. We'll find another way. A better way."

She has never known what it is like to have someone see you for who you are- broken and flawed, and defend you- even your well-intentioned actions that yielded different results than what you expected and hurt them in the process. She suspects it has been the same for him, a lifetime of not having anyone have his back.

The warm feeling inside her is brand new. What is the name of this? Comfort? Relief?

Happiness?

---

This will be their first time out in the field in a long time, and she feels a little sick to the stomach.

He notices. "Are you alright?"

The concern in his voice tugs at her heartstrings. She nods. She has faced way worse, she shouldn't be so nervous about this, but she is. "I've never done this before."

"We can always just kill him and blame it on the Chitauris", he suggests with a serious face.

"I heard that", Peter yells from the other room, where he is doing whatever it is that teenagers do to prepare for battle.

She shakes her head in disbelief. "I can't believe we're babysitting."

"I've done this before", he assures her, and it surprises her to picture him being entrusted with such a serious task. "The trick is to conjure up illusions that keep them distracted enough to not cry."

She laughs. "You're thinking of infants. This one is a little older."

"I'm over a thousand years old, Sylvie. They're all infants to me."

Peter joins them, mask covering his face so that he doesn't reveal his identity. "So what do I call you? Loki and Loki? That's confusing. How about Loki and Lady Loki? Or is that offensive? I'm not suggesting women are inferior, because they're absolutely not..."

"Does he come with an off switch?" She whispers in horror as Peter rambles on.

Loki grins. With one wave of his hand and a flash of green, Peter's own webbing shoots out and seals his mouth shut.

---

Things are fine but not fine at the same time. He's right there beside her, but not there at all. They have their banters, they have their stolen glances, but they haven't had a meaningful conversation since that first day when she got back. She's been putting it off for a long time, but she knows they really do need to have the talk.

She corners him in his room one evening while he's tinkering with a temporal collar. She takes a seat in the chair next to his bed and rests her hand on the table, leaning her head against her palm, before switching position and crossing her arms and legs. Everything about her posture screams uneasiness. If he notices- he probably does- he doesn't say anything.

"You defended me that day."

He briefly looks up from the task at hand and gives her a soft smile. "Of course."

She blinks. "I don't understand." Her hands involuntary rise up to rub her temples. "If you can justify my actions to them, then how can you still be mad at me?"

"I'm not mad at you", he says without missing a beat.

"Rubbish", her words come out angrier than she intended. This frustration is the result of the months of status quo they have had. She has to know now, one way or the other. "You're distant. You're guarded", she accuses. Then her voice breaks, as she feels a part of her break all over again with her next words. "You don't hold my hand. Why? Tell me."

He abandons the collar and focuses his full attention on her. Staring straight into her eyes, he answers her. "You know why."

"I wouldn't be asking if I did. Look, if it's because I chose the mission over you-"

"-Of course it's not that." He says decisively. Then a sad smile clouds his face. It's the same look he had when she accused him of conning her to gain the throne. "Do you think I'm the type of man who would want a woman to abandon her life-long ambitions just because she has met someone?"

She knows he isn't. But it still doesn't answer why he is so cross with her. "What is it then?"

He pauses for a moment, trying to decide whether he wants to bare his soul out to her once more or not. There are two ways he can go from here- choose to not let her in again and save himself from the hurt, or trust her again and open himself up to potential pain.

Who is he kidding? Pushing her away- keeping her away- doesn't hurt any less.

There were a thousand things that had to go wrong to bring two Lokis from two universes together. A connection like that, it doesn't just happen.

And it doesn't just go away. The pain is constant, it's a part of him, pounding like a second heart every second he has to stop himself from reaching out for her hand.

This has to come to an end.

He takes in a deep breath, bracing himself. "You didn't have to send me away, Sylvie. I wanted to stop you from making the same mistakes I did. But in the end, I didn't care what you chose. I just wanted us to do it together."

She never even imagined this could be the reason for his hurt. All these months spent thinking he hates her for her choices, and now it turns out he is hurt simply because she chose to do it alone? "I'm sorry." She says sincerely. "I just wanted you to be safe."

"And I just wanted to be there with you till the end." He confesses. His eyes shimmer with the emotions he has kept bottled in for so long. "You go, I go."

She doesn't know what to say to that. She has never been good at articulating her feelings. Tears stream down her cheeks at the realisation that even after everything, he is still there for her.

She didn't cry even back at Lamentis when they thought they were going to die. She doesn't let anyone see her cry when she is sad or scared. That's all she has known her whole life. She's used to it by now.

This is new. These are tears of relief. Comfort.

Happiness.

Tentatively, she crosses over to the bed and sits by his side.

It's quiet for a few minutes. But unlike the months of tension so thick she could cut it into splices with her daggers, this is comfortable silence. The kind they had before it all went wrong.

"Did you even miss me?" He whispers.

"What kind of silly question is that? Of course I did." Her shaking hands grab his, and oh how she missed this.

He intertwines their fingers. His eyes draw closed. Bliss. That's the only word for this feeling.

He opens his eyes again and studies her. She's staring back at him, teary-eyed, but with a hopeful smile. "Really? Because you have a really unique way of showing it. You didn't even come looking for me."

"I didn't know how to face you", she tells him honestly. No tricks, no enchantment, no treachery. Not with him. "I didn't know if you even wanted to see me." Her voice grows quieter, dropping to a timbre that perfectly encapsulates her deepest fear. "I thought you hated me."

"Hate you?" He is shocked that she thinks that is even possible, specially after seeing him these last few months. "Sylvie, I'm working with the Avengers. The Avengers. Do you know how much I hate them? They are my nemesis. They're self-righteous, condescending, and so completely dull. Every second with them makes me want to rip their hearts out. Why do you think I'm here with them?"

She thinks she knows. But she needs to hear it anyway.

"It's because of you." He lays it all out on the table. All cards on deck, win or lose. "You've been running away. I have been the one who has been here, trying to hold down the fort, working to fix everything. Because that is what one does when one loves-"

Shit. The word slips out before he realises it.

Their eyes go wide in unison.

"Sylvie, I-"

"-Don't you dare take it back now." She warns him. "I-" She doesn't know how to say it either. They make such a great pair, both equally daft at saying how they feel, like they are teenagers, not Gods who have lived for centuries. "I've been running because I didn't think I could bear the burden of knowing I found you and then I lost you. I don't want to lose you. Not now, not ever."

He kisses the back of her hand, before letting it go. He cups her face, gently caressing her cheeks with his thumbs. "I don't want to lose you either."

She leans in closer, until their foreheads touch. She can feel his breath on her face, warm and soft. That is exactly how she feels inside. "You won't", she promises. "You go, I go."

---

(Quote on Lesser Evil from The Witcher. Thanks for reading!!)

[foulcrownkryptonite]

The Man He Loved

Erwin x Levi 

Levi disagrees with Erwin’s plan and confronts him after a meeting with the Scouts.

3.4K words

Content Warnings: swearing, bursts of anger, general meanness before the cavity inducing fluff comes into play :)

Levi sat quietly, arms crossed and eyes scanning each of the Scouts as Erwin laid out this coming mission's details. It was late and everyone was past the brink of exhaustion, but this meeting was unfortunately urgent. Eren and Historia… Those damned Internal Police lackies will stop at nothing to get their filthy hands on the two kids. And with the influence they have, their chance at success is more than possible. There was no time to waste. What they needed was a plan of action, an infallible one, at that.

“We still have many uncertainties about the titans and what the Beast titan’s plans are…” Erwin continued. “But keeping Eren and Historia safe is of the utmost priority. Humanity will fall if the Internal Police get their hands on them. In two days' time, we’ll need to devise a distraction.” Distraction? Levi swiftly side eyed Erwin as he continued his disquisition, his prominent features set in dedication. Why doesn't he tell me these things beforehand...

“Jean, you’ll pretend to be Eren and-“ Erwin was cut off by Jean’s groans.

“Huh? I look nothing like that brat. Clearly I’m far more handsome. They’ll think he suddenly became a model and Eren does not deserve that reputation.” Jean quickly retorted. Despite being crudely cut off, Erwin’s eyes remained weighted and unmoving. The stretch of silence that followed elicited an ugly snort from Conny, earning a poorly contained laugh from Sasha and a silencing glare from Mikasa. Once the punishing eyes moved to Jean, he quickly shut his trap and slunk in his chair, a curse being muttered under his breath. Are these damn brats capable of a single serious meeting? Levi scoffed to himself as Erwin resumed.

“As I was saying,” Jean somehow receded further into himself. “Armin will play Historia.”. Armin nodded, knowing there’s no saying no to the commander in this state. “I’ll lead the distraction as I’m perfectly fine with playing bait. They want me too, but that’s not important.” he went on. At this, Levi's jaw tightened. Not important?! They’ll kill you. What is he-

“Don’t worry, as this will not be for another week. The news of us hiding out won’t get to them for a short while.” Erwin concluded, standing up in his chair. Before he could finish his brief remarks, the scouts eagerly stood to attention. “Very well, that is all for tonight. Get some rest, Scouts. You’ve done good work. If there are any questions, feel free to ask. But for now, seek your sleep.” And with those words of finality, he receded back into his seat, the phantom pains in his arm ebbing and flowing as they usually did. Erwin never talked about it, but Levi could tell when it was bothering the commander. His eyebrows would furrow slightly, followed by a look of realization then poignancy. Whether he really wanted to or not, Levi always noticed these little changes in the man.

Hange let out a big yawn, waiting as everyone else quietly left the room. That is to say, everyone besides Conny, Sasha and Jean, those loud fucks. Levi instantly began mentally reciting what Erwin had previously said. Distraction my ass… Hange kicked up their feet onto the coffee table, expecting the usual post-meeting chat between the three of them. “Eyy I’m pooped, how about a-“

“Hange.” Levi said plainly.

“Eh?”

“Not today.”

“Alright… then why don’t we-“

“Not. Today.” Levi snapped, uncrossing his legs to stand. “Leave.”

Hange rolled their eyes, used to and unthreatened by Levi’s usual ire. “Whatever, I’ll just go party somewhere else then.” They stood too, walking toward the door. “You two buzzkills have a goodnight~!” They sang sweetly before sauntering out in an exaggerated confidence. Levi sighed before going to the door and locking it. Erwin just watched, unamused and unsurprised by his behavior. Levi leaned against the locked door and put his hands on his hips.

“So, a suicide mission? That’s your master plan?” he said coldly, grey eyes meeting blue in an unfriendly gaze. Erwin kept his lips sealed with silence, knowing full well the man across him had a lot more to say. “Tch, silent treatment too? Why don’t you tell me these things? Did you hit your head on the field before losing your arm?” He taunted, attempting to coax the tall man into talking.

Erwin’s eyes darkened just slightly. He really wasn’t in the mood to bicker with Levi. His plan was practically foolproof, Levi just wasn’t thinking rationally. His arm hurt and he longed for a good night's rest, not wanting to be barked at by the man standing across from him. Truthfully, he was tuning most of what he said out. Just let him ramble until he’s satisfied.

Levi stomped his boot on the door, causing it to judder in return. “You’re not even LISTENING. Oi, shit-for-brains, talk to me like a man and stop wallowing in your suicidal self pity. What the fuck are you thinking?”

Erwin took a steady breath, composing himself before finally speaking. “Is this really about the mission, Levi?” He was met with cold icy eyes set in a dead glare. This really isn’t what he wanted to do right now. “Y'know what, nevermind. I don’t wanna hear it tonight.” he dismissed.

Levi was beyond irked. “Eh- what are you even saying? Damn, that titan really did scramble your head. Do I need to spell it out for ya? Write on little cards so you can relearn your ABC’s? Eh?! You’ve gone mad. This is stupid-“

Erwin lifted his hand up to silence him. “You don’t have to agree. By all means, yell at me. But this doesn’t change my plan.” He lowered his hand and looked him in the eyes, his mind tired and begging for rest.

Levi could feel his face darkening into a prominent scowl. “I can’t fuckin’ believe this… Your self righteous fantasies of being the humble hero are clouding your judgement. Pride? Heroism? That’s just some bullshit excuse, Erwin. You aren’t expendable. Killing yourself now isn’t going to help anyone. It’s not going to fix anything.” He spat, poison dripping from each word as his gaze remained locked on target. Erwin eyed him in return, eyes growing darker with each passing second. A tense silence stretched between them.

Levi sighed before starting again.

“We need that damn head of yours if we want to have any chance of a future, so quit being a baby and let’s figure out some other plan.” He reasoned, hoping these words would make his commander understand where this bout of anger came from.

Erwin sat silent for a moment, contemplating his words and filtering them with his usual routine of rationality and logic. What was Levi’s goal here? It is putting his own life in danger, not Levi’s. Unless the issue was that fact itself...

“Levi…” He began calmly, his assuring tone of voice encouraging Levi to calm himself. “I recognize how you feel, but you must see the bigger picture. You need to understand, I am replaceable, Eren and Historia are not.“

Levi instinctively tensed again, knowing exactly where this conversation was headed, and knowing full well he wouldn’t like whatever Erwin would say next. “This mission is above me - above us. It’s our best option. We don’t have the luxury to achieve results without sacrifice, or at least without the risk thereof. I have abandoned many soldiers in the past, and to cower when that chance weighs on myself is unbecoming of a commander. I did not call a meeting tonight to discuss, but rather to inform. This is the plan, Levi. And frankly? I do not wish to speak about it further. That is all.” Erwin languidly finished, his usual punctuality succumbing to a tired dejection.

Levi realized then. He wasn’t speaking to Erwin, the man whom he trusted and dedicated his life to. Levi wasn’t speaking to the one who dragged him out of that shitty dump of a home and into the Survey Corps; He wasn’t here with the man who made badly timed jokes Levi could only roll his eyes at, nor the captain who suddenly took an interest in cleanliness upon Levi’s arrival, nor the friend who kindly lent Levi a shoulder and a warm cup of tea following his squad's extinction. This was not that man. Levi was stood in front of the Commander of the Survey Corps. An artificial hero who’d rid himself of his humanities in the name of freedom, eager to sacrifice what he must for the prosperity of the future. Erwin looked at Levi from behind that old table as if it were a wall of its own, made not for keeping titans out, but for imprisoning the man Levi knew him to be within.

A heroic façade. A selfless demeanor. That is what Erwin has chosen to be.

Bullshit. Absolute fucking BULLSHIT. There are at least a thousand ways out of this mess, why the hell is he so set on risking himself? An unbridled rage swiftly lifted Levi off the back of the door, boots stomping up towards the tired man in front of him. Levi seethed. He won't let Erwin succumb to whatever dumbass funk he seems to be in. He crossed his arms and scowled, voice biting and unsympathetic. “So that’s it then? You’re just going to give up under the ruse of heroism cause you don't feel well? Because you lost your fucking arm to some ugly ass titan?”

Erwin glare was maddening, something that would make any other soul cower in fear, yet it only fueled his own vehemence. He’s not going to let Erwin walk away from this. “Tch. And to think I’d thought so highly of you... Go on then. If this is really what you want, go and die a coward's meaningless death.” The air hung heavy as they stared each other down. Silence, tense uncomfortable silence and shit ok maybe Levi had gone a bit too fa-

BANG. His hand hit the desk hard, the sound of Erwin's arm slamming the old wood echoing harshly off the cold stone walls. He was standing now, chair forgotten and fallen behind him. The look on his face made Levi’s heart catch in his throat, a dry lump forming as Erwin's eyes bore menacingly into him. His small figure felt diminutive as Erwin’s chest heaved with ferocity, before finally cracking with pure fury. “You dare tell me what I can or cannot do with my own life? Who the fuck do you think you are? I am your superior officer before I am your friend and I will not take this shit from you!”

Levi went cold, backing once more into the door as far as he could, gripping the handle for support, or perhaps a possible escape. He’s never seen Erwin snap like this and to see this eruption in him… It petrified him. “Well, now who’s the coward?” He said maddeningly, kicking the discarded chair further into the corner which sent Levi’s fight or flight into overdrive. Erwin towered over him, his hand slamming against the door a good two feet above Levi’s head. When did he get so damn close?

Levi opened his mouth, but could produce no sound. He was scared. This wasn’t Erwin. A primal rage had overtaken him and Levi could see it in the way his eyes oozed with hostility, in the way his astute demeanor had morphed into that of a feral beast’s. Taking a chance, Levi took a breath. “Erwin…” he whispered carefully, like a cornered animal trying to negotiate with its prey. Erwin’s eyes flashed with an indescribable something. He dropped his hand.

“Fuck,” he cursed, putting his hand to his head and wobbling backward before facing Levi again.

“Fuck, Levi, I’m…” he began. Once again, Levi was experiencing a new side of Erwin, a common theme tonight.  “You…” He paused, collecting his words and continuing. “You need to understand exactly what it is I’m trying to say. It’s my life and you said it yourself earlier, I’m as good as dead. This arm…  How exactly am I supposed to fight like this?” It was barely audible, but Levi picked up a slight crack to his voice. Infuriated Erwin was shocking to see, but this completely foreign vulnerability was something else. The two had been rather close, but nothing quite like this. It was jarring, but not at all bad.

Before Levi could say anything in return, Erwin continued, voice almost hushed and pleading. “Eren is the key to saving humanity and you damn right know it. If I can just lead the charge-“ he was cut off by Levi swiftly grabbing hold of his hand. He didn’t really know what the hell he was doing, some innermost part of him doing the decision making here. The action terrified the both of them, but it was a sign of comfort and that’s all Erwin needed. Besides, it stopped him from spouting more nonsense… So that's good, right?

Noticing the slightest squeeze of his hand in return, Levi found the words he wanted to say. Needed to say. “You know I didn’t mean that. I won’t let you die out there, Erwin. We need you…” his voice grew soft before he carried on. “I need you… So I won’t let you just throw yourself away, dumbass.” Ok now he really didn’t know what the fuck he was doing. The air was stiff as Erwin only stared down at him, and Levi directed his eyes back to the discarded chair. Anything really to distract himself from Erwin’s wide eyed stare. It wasn’t working. Why wasn’t Erwin saying anything? He had made it worse. Fuck.

“I- um I’m I’ll just, I’ll just-“ Levi stammered, earnestly fumbling with the doorknob to leave. Bad choice. Bad night. Time to go. Erwin promptly grabbed Levi’s arm and pulled him closer, until he was flush with the broad surface of his chest. Levi’s face burned due to the proximity, and as Erwin snaked his arm around his middle, his dreaded blush only deepened. Not quite knowing what to do with his hands, he mirrored Erwin’s own actions, enclosing the embrace and- Oh. This is nice. Feeling Levi’s arms wrap around him, Erwin took the initiative to bend down, lowering his head to rest atop Levi’s shoulder.

“I need you too... More than anything” he breathed softly into Levi’s jacket.

Levi had never been one for flattery or sugared words. Lies only beget other lies and Levi valued honesty and definiteness. But this… This was something entirely different. Erwin’s voice was barely above a whisper, purely unguarded and emotive. This wasn’t some false declaration to earn his sympathy, but rather raw feeling, something Levi is not used to having directed at himself.

The tears came before rational thought could beat them, and Erwin deepened the hug in response. The two didn’t say a word as they stood and kept their embrace, never wanting to let go. It was then that he realized Erwin was shaking slightly, tears falling from the man in his arms as well. Levi gripped tighter onto him, his cloak bunching up into his fingers as he held on perhaps harder than need be. Levi wouldn’t normally indulge himself in such juvenile behavior, but he supposed, at least for tonight, he didn’t want to hold himself back.

Erwin’s calloused hand slowly crept its way to Levi’s neck, causing him to shiver. Unsure if this reaction was a positive one, the taller man froze. Levi understood this fearful body language and strengthened the hug, signaling it was ok. Taking this in, Erwin began to rub gentle circles on the back of Levi’s neck, causing him to stir and the fine hairs on his neck to stand. They’ve never touched, not like this. Neither dared to speak, each fearing it would end this blissful spell.

Returning the intimate gesture, Levi began to softly move the palm of his hand along Erwin’s back. Levi wasn’t a touchy-feely person - or, so he thought because being touched like this… He could truly die right here. And that would be ok.

Erwin rotated his head so he was facing the crook of Levi’s neck, and Levi shuddered as he felt Erwin’s hot, shaky breath. This in turn made Erwin nervous. What are we doing? I shouldn’t be-

Levi snaked a hand up to the base of Erwin’s neck and began to tenderly run his fingers through his hair. Erwin took this as complete reassurance that yeah, this was ok. And Levi was ok with it too. Nerves were high as Levi gripped the man’s shirt, wanting to cling to him in silence forever.

Craving his touch, Levi bent his head to face Erwin’s. Erwin noticed the sudden change in movement and opened his eyes to see Levi staring right back at him. He pulled his head back ever so slightly, ensuring he was properly facing Levi. He searched his steel eyes and found only warmth. Still, not a word was said as they got even closer, noses just barely grazing each other before finally-

Unexpectedly, a jarring thud came from outside the door. This was promptly followed by a distant “I’m ok!”. Being so caught up in the moment, Erwin jumped, his heart racing and a mess as he lifted away from Levi. He muttered a curse word before being forced to talk about what just happened between the two men.

Levi just stood there, the sudden lack of intimacy making him realize exactly what had just happened. Feeling damn near faint, he sat on the couch closest to the warm fire and Erwin followed suit, placing his hand on the cushiony surface as he glanced at the visibly nervous Levi.

Erwin reached over and grabbed Levi’s hand causing Levi to meet his gaze. “Is this ok?” He asked gingerly. Levi’s expression softened as he put his other hand on top of his. “Yeah, this is ok”. They sat like that for a moment, deep breaths filling the silence.

���At least let me come with you,” Levi said hurriedly, and Erwin’s eyes grew wide. “Levi…” He began, moving his hand to cup his cheek. Levi leaned into his touch, body settling as he listened to Erwin. “Levi, when have I ever excluded you from a mission? We're doing this together…” he pulled Levi’s face closer to his as Levi put a hand to the man’s chest.

“Together.” Levi repeated before Erwin sealed the space between them with a feather-light kiss, still not wanting to scare the shorter man away. But Levi’s return to the kiss was immediate and desperate, once again wanting to be close to the man he’d admired for years. The man he… Fuck it, the man he loved. Being held like this, being needed like this, needing him in return, it all felt so familiar despite how foreign it really was.

It was like home. Not the putrid and disgustingly cluttered underground, but rather the sentiment of it all. Being in Erwin's embrace, he thought of Farlan and Isabel, his dedication and her compassion. He thought of the ever rowdy scouts, of Hange, of the feeling of Erwin’s lips against his: that was a big one.

Levi wasn’t sure where this mission would take them, or where any of their upcoming escapades would lead them. But he was sure of one thing, as long as he was at this man’s side, his warm eyes meeting his own, he could bear it. No... They could bear it. Erwin pulled away from his lips for what felt like the tenth time this night. Grey eyes met blue, and for the first time in what had felt like years, Levi felt himself fully smiling back.

That night, perched in that dimly lit safe house on a tawny old couch, was theirs and theirs alone, forever to be looked back upon fondly. They were safe. And most importantly, they were each other’s.

“SASHA HOLY SHIT ARE YOU SEEING THIS!”

“CONNY SHUT UP!”

“MMPH!”

And most importantly, Levi had a couple of brats to silence.

[cheeriecherry]

Space Between [Aizawa Shouta x F!Reader x Yamada Hizashi] [5/9]

EraserMic x Reader

Part 5/9

Warnings: brief descriptions of violence (not graphic), fluff, kissing, boyfriends x2

You’re surprised when his lips touch your own, even though you’d been expecting it. He’s softer than you imagined, warmer, and more pliant. He melts into as the kiss deepens, cupping your jaw so gently you can’t help but feel the tenderness he has for you.

You stay like that for a few moments, close enough to share breath and feel each other’s heartbeats.

When you part, you’re out of breath. His eyes are half lidded, and your shirts are slightly rumpled, but you remain entangled with each other, his forehead coming to rest against your own.

“Can I tell you something, sweetheart?” He asks, soft and quiet.

You kiss the corner of his mouth, smiling. “You can tell me anything.”

He pecks your cheek a couple times, lips trailing down over your jaw. “Shouta’s in love with you, too.”

You’re less startled with the statement than you thought you’d be. Looking back on all your interactions with the man, you’re not sure how you didn’t see it sooner. He showed care for you much in the same way he did with Hizashi, always going out of his way to try and make sure you were okay.

“He didn’t even try to hide it, did he?” you wonder. “I was just that oblivious?”

Hizashi laughs, joyful and melodious. “Don’t worry about it too much. He kept it under wraps in highschool, so it really only looked like natural friendship progression.”

“He’s liked me since high school?”

“Yeah,” he grins, “he had so much trouble talking to you he was so shy. I told him I’d help him get to know you better, since you were my best friend.”

Your heart swells as you think back to your teen years; Hizashi insisting you get to know Shouta, talking him up and telling you what a cool person he was. And you, pushing through the awkward conversations with him because you wanted to make Hizashi happy (only to later find out that he’d been right, and Shouta was a cool person. And a good friend).

“‘Course, I was hella jealous when you started spending more time together. I thought ‘did I seriously just set the love of my life up with another guy’. Because seriously, what kind of teenaged boy does that?”

You listen fondly as her rambles, a habit he’s had since you were kids. Whenever he was excited about something -or just excited in general- he was an endless chatterbox. He could go on for hours if you let him, talking about everything and nothing. Most of the people he knew had expressed some amount of annoyance over it, you knew, but you? You loved it.

“Then finally in our third year, Sho and I had a sleepover and got into my parents’ sake. I...accidentally told him I had a crush on you, too.” He droops ever so slightly, looking sad. “I think he gave up on you after that. Thought I had a better chance than he did.”

You tug gently on Hizashi’s hand, pulling him down to sit on the couch with you. “Honestly,” you admit, “at the time, he would’ve been right. I didn’t realize I loved him the way I did until the three of us rented that shitty apartment together.”

“Oh god, the one above that old dive bar?”

“Yup. I got hassled by some drunk guy on the way up one night, after a shitty patrol, no less. Shouta overheard, and basically jumped out the window to beat the shit out of the dude.” You snicker, “I had to pull him off the guy. Then he ran me a bath when we got in, and made actual noodles for supper, instead of the instant ones we lived off of. Just to make me feel better.”

Both of you are overcome with fondness, thinking about all the little ways Shouta had taken care of you over the years. Hizashi reclines against the arm of the couch, and you scoot closer to lay across his chest, where he drapes an arm over you.

“It...hit us really hard when you left,” he says, turning melancholy, “but it pushed us closer together. It was scary at first, realizing how deep our feelings for each other actually ran, but I haven’t regretted it a single day we’ve been together. Even when we fight, or argue, or just bug the crap out of each other.”

Guilt niggles in your heart, and you push yourself a little harder against him. “A part of me wishes I’d never left,” you mumble, “the sad part, the lost part, the scared part. But I’m also glad something so good came out of it. Is that weird?”

He pets your hair idly, curling the stands around his fingers and stroking against your scalp. “I don’t think so,” his tone is honest and light, “I think it’s important to find the silver lining.”

You consider his words carefully, as you fall into a comfortable silence. With all these feelings aired out, did it mean you had a chance with them? After so many years, and so much grief, was it possible? Did you even deserve it?

Shut up, you tell yourself, I don’t care what I think I deserve. I care about what I want. Who I want.

“‘Zashi, when Shouta gets home tonight…”

“I want to tell him everything. I want...us. The three of us.” There’s worry in his voice, the slightest of tremors, but for once you think you’re less concerned than he is.

“It’ll work out,” you tell him. “If he feels the way you say he does, then it’ll work out.”

Neither of you say anything after that, drifting slowly in and out of sleep, while some strange netflix series plays in the background.

----

You rouse from your slumber when something clatters in the other room. Your mind instantly jumps to ‘break in’ when you see Hizashi still asleep beneath you, but when you move to stand, you find that someone has draped a blanket over you both.

You glance at the wall, surprised to see the hands past midnight. Had you really been out that long? A solid ninety minutes without a single nightmare? You smile down at the blond after you extract yourself from his grasp, brushing his hair off his forehead to place a small kiss there.

Moments later, you find Shouta in the kitchen, dumping remnants of all the leftovers into one frankenstein-esque bowl. You remain in the doorway for a little bit, watching him float back and forth between the fridge and the counter.

He tenses when he catches your reflection in the door of the refrigerator, just for a brief second, easily missed to the untrained eye.

“It’s rude to stare,” he says, devoid of any malice.

You bite back a smile, giddiness rising in your chest.

“I love you,” you tell him.

He startles for real this time, and looks at you with wide eyes, wider than you’d ever seen, with a dusting of pink rises to his cheeks. It’s a good look on him, you decide, storing the image away for later.

“Something happened today, didn’t it,” it’s not phrased as a question. He composes himself after your words have set in, turning back to the atrocity that is his dinner.

“Hizashi kissed me earlier,” you admit, “and then we had a long talk. About feelings.”

“Gross.”

You hide a giggle. “You’re not mad?”

“Hardly,” he shrugs, and you don’t detect any dishonesty. “We’ve talked about it before. Our...feelings for you. I assume he spilled everything?”

“The whole cup of tea.”

“God, you’re picking up on his language habits.”

You laugh for real this time, unable to contain it any longer. Shouta deadpans at you, and shoves his food in the microwave while he waits for you to collect yourself.

Eventually you do, wiping the fainest tear from the corner of your eye. “I can’t believe people think you’re not funny. Your sense of humour is arguably better than mine.”

“Maybe you’re just wearing rose tinted goggles,” he suggests, leaning casually against the counter. “It’s a real thing, you know. When you like someone, you see them as better at something than they really are.”

You roll your eyes and meander over to him. Close like this, you can see that his cheeks are still flushed and his pupils are blown wide. He looks tired, as per usual, but you know he’s alert and that all his attention is on you.

You wrap your arms around his waist and lay your head on his shoulder. “So what do you think?” you ask.

“Of what?”

“Of us. You, me, and Hizashi?” You peer up at him while he thinks about it, a soft crease forming in between his brows.

“Truthfully,” he replies, “I didn’t think it was possible. ‘Zashi and I thought we were good and over you, but the moment you hugged us in the airport, I knew we weren’t. So we talked about it later, after you’d fallen asleep.”

“And?”

“And we decided that we didn’t want to add more stress to your life by asking you to choose between us. If you confessed to either of us, then we’d go from there, but…”

You squeeze him gently, prompting him to look down at you. “Did you never humour the possibility of the three of us together?”

The blush on his face darkens considerably, and he fights the urge to avert his gaze. “I didn’t think it was possible,” he mumbles, “The chances of you liking one of us were already pretty slim, but both of us? I was being logical.”

“You were being dumb.”

You reach up and pinch his cheek, tugging slightly until he grumbles and shakes you off. He catches your wrist as you move, and you can’t help the flutter in your chest at the feeling of his warm hand wrapped around you. A flutter that only increases when he brings your palm to his lips to lay a kiss on it.

You twist slightly, enough to lay your fingertips against his face, gently tracing the scar beneath his eye. “After everything we’ve been through together, how could I not love you both? Adore you both? The two of you, the thought of coming home... it’s what kept me going. Even if you didn’t want me, even if you hated me, just getting to see your faces again...it saved my life.”

He stares at you for a second, more tender than you’d ever seen him. He releases your hand in trade for your face, holding you in place while he stoops down and captures your mouth.

His lips are warmer than Hizashi’s, more plush, though slightly more chapped, and the way he kisses you is nothing short of intense. Years of longing and repressed feelings are poured into it, only emphasized by the way he holds you close.

You clutch at his shirt, pressing back against him with equal fervour. He’s hot and solid, his presence safe and comforting. He’s not much taller than you, but held like this you feel like a doll in his hands, tiny and precious.

You whine when his tongue teases at your bottom lip, asking you, begging you, to return. You part your lips slowly, mouths meshing again so your tongues can slide against each other. He groans then, a low rumble in his chest that you feel more than hear. It stirs a spark of warmth in between your legs, the beginnings of arousal making you tremble beneath him.

“Now, that is a nice sight to wake up to.”

You and Shouta freeze when Hizashi’s voice sounds from the doorway, utterly full of mischief. You suppress a whine when your kiss is broken, settling on a pout instead.

“We were talking,” Shouta says.

Hizashi raises a thin brow, trying his best to keep the corners of his mouth from quirking up. “‘Talking’ huh? Is that what the kids call it nowadays? Because back in our day, it was just called ‘making out’.”

He cheers quietly when Shouta’s face -somehow- becomes even redder, and you avert your gaze to hide a smile. Hizashi at least seems to be in a better mood than before, his earlier stress over your impending doom less visible; shoulders more lax, eyes less frantic. He was still drowsy, you knew, but maybe now he’d be able to discuss it rationally.

Until he says, “You’re taking this surprisingly well, Sho.” and your stomach drops. “Not gonna lie, I’m still pretty messed up about it. No one likes knowing their girlfriend got visited by the elusive Oracle, but if you’re this calm about it then you’ve obviously got a...plan…?”

He trails off, glancing back and forth between the two of you. The guilt and panic in your expression, the desperate anger budding in Shouta’s.

“You didn’t tell him?”

You throw your hands up in surrender, taking a step away from the two of them. “I was getting to it!” you promise, “I was starting with the ‘I love you’s and was gonna end with the ‘untimely demise’ bit.”

“You’re not going to die-”

“Don’t bother, Sho,” Hizashi cuts him off, “we’ve already had this conversation.”

His tone is bitter and sad, biting like venom into your heart, the same way Shouta’s furious expression does. This was why you’d started off with the good stuff; everything bad would have ruined it from the start.

“You’re not seriously going to just walk into your death, are you?” He’s exasperated, and rightly so, but the crack in his voice screams ‘please tell me no’.

You sigh. “I’ll tell you what I told Hizashi. If I don’t face this now, when I have the upper hand, I’m going to be running for the rest of my life.”

“From what?”

“Akuma.”

Shouta freezes. Where the name had meant nothing to Hizashi, it’s struck a chord with him, and you notice it.

“You know the name, don’t you?”

He nods, expression carefully blank.

“Then you understand why I have to do this now, while I have the chance?”

Another nod.

Hizashi looks like he wants to explode, but Shouta gets to him before he can say anything. “I’ve seen the aftermath of Akuma, ‘zashi. People hunted down decades after they thought they’d escaped, their families destroyed. Akuma is unrelenting, persistent, and unpredictable.”

You take a few steps closer to the blond. “And I’ve got a clue about where she’s going to be, and when. Do you get it now?”

Hizashi’s shoulders fall and his posture relaxes, as your plan clicks in his head. “You’re gonna ambush her. God, I feel stupid.”

“Don’t,” you tell him, reaching out to link your fingers together, “it’s hard to think when you’re scared.”

He sighs deeply and yoinks you closer, capturing you in a hug. “We’ll have to work fast, then. Two weeks isn’t a lot of time to plan something as big as this.”

A moment later you feel Shouta’s hand against your back. “We’ll manage. Right now, though, we’re all exhausted. No good to anyone.”

He’s right, you realize. You can already feel the heaviness in your limbs, and the fogginess of sleep beginning to return. The two of them aren’t faring any better, either.

Shouta gives you both a kiss, lingering a little longer than would be considered chaste, and wanders out of the kitchen. You smile as he goes, and once he’s out of sight you turn your attention back to HIzashi.

He catches your face in his hands, holding you fast and firm to nudge his head against yours. “Promise me you won’t ever stop fighting?”

You lean into his touch, gazing up at him happily. “I promise,” you tell him, and it’s one you intend on keeping.

Ten minutes later, the three of you are crammed onto a king sized mattress, limbs entangled, hair in faces, snores in ears. Despite all that, it’s comforting and reminiscent of the way you used to be; carefree and content and so, so in love.

You fall asleep easily.

----

You awake alone the next afternoon, rumpled and groggy, with a mouth that feels like it’s full of cat litter. You crinkle your nose at the sour taste and roll out of bed, stretching on the way to the bathroom. Despite the previous nights’ cramped sleeping arrangements, you feel surprisingly rested. Moreso than you have in months.

Even when you couldn’t remember your nightmares, they still left you waking to a sense of fear and panic. Today, though? Nothing. No extra anxiety, no overwhelming exhaustion, no desire to lay on the couch and do nothing. You felt...good.

In the bathroom, you find a note taped to the mirror. You open it while you brush your teeth, smiling when you recognize Shouta’s handwriting.

‘Y/N,

If you’re able to, try and find Oracle. Get as much information as you can from them. If they’re worried about getting involved with pros, tell them not to. We’re not going to bother them, since they’re not technically doing anything illegal.

I’ll be in contact with some people this afternoon, who’ll be able to help us with Akuma. Hizashi’s going to call in a few favours. We’ll take her down. She won’t get away this time.

Take care of yourself, okay? If you need anything, call me.

-S’

You smile at the note, particularly at Hizashi’s doodle of a cockatiel and a cat (which he’d probably added when Shouta wasn’t looking). If they were going to do their parts in hatching a plan, then you were going to do the same.

You finish brushing your teeth and wander out to the living room, where your phone and laptop are still laying on the coffee table. You check your phone for messages, finding none, and turn your attention to the computer.

Oracle was just a kid. A kid in a beat up hoodie, and a pair of shoes ungluing at the soles. They could technically be from anywhere in the city, but you had a feeling they might be from one of the more downtrodden neighborhoods.

You open a map of the area in an internet browser, singling in on both spots you’d met with the vigilante. As you’d suspected, they were in close vicinity to each other, and within the bounds of the only run down area for forty blocks.

You’d previously met them during school hours, but who knew if they’d be in class today? You best bet would be to check the area out, ask around to see if anyone knew anything, and see what you could find.

----

You feel utterly defeated, sitting on a bench in the dark like you are. A dull streetlight flickers above you, casting strange shadows on the ground. You stare at them, frustrated.

You’d been wandering around the streets for hours, first seeing if you could find Oracle out and about, and when that didn’t work, you’d settled on going door to door. It had been a fruitless effort, in the end. Most people either didn’t know who the kid was, or they hadn’t seen them in a while.

You knew for a fact that some of them had been lying, which was annoying albeit understandable. You were glad that kid had some many people looking out for them, even if it hindered your ability to get information.

Sitting alone like this, you half expect Oracle to materialize beside you, but after a few moments of waiting and no dice, your thoughts begin to drift. First to Shouta and Hizashi, and how their days went, then to the disappointment that was your afternoon. Eventually, you end up on Akuma.

For someone you’d only met a handful of times, she was playing a much bigger role in your life than you expected. While you had been working as her personal assassin, most of her order had trickled down to you through your ‘handler’. He’d been your partner on the mission, a companion to save your ass if you fucked up.

The more you think about it, the more you realize you never actually knew that much about the guy. Despite your close quarters undercover, you’d never had time to be friendly. The underground was littered with eyes and ears, always listening. Becoming too close would have been a liability, so you’d pretended, acted distant and borderline cold towards him, played the part perfectly.

Akuma sniffed him out about eight months before the end of your mission. One too many kill orders ignored, too much information leaked in too short a time period. She caught him in the act one afternoon, and had him trapped in her tar before he could react.

She’d dragged him to the center of the warehouse, calling everyone around. “See this?” she’d said, nudging your partner with her shoe, “this is a mole! Sneaky little hero scum who thinks he can upturn my whole organization.”

You’d watched helplessly as he stared blankly at the floor, eyes shaded black with tar. At that time, you’d only seen Akuma kill once or twice, not fully understanding her quirk or the strength it took to fight it.

You stood there in your little group, unblinking, as Akuma questioned your partner again and again, asking for names and information. He gave away everything; his own identity, the people he worked for, what his mission was, everything. Except you. Never once did he utter your name, suggest the existence of a partner, or give away where you were.

Even when Akuma directly questioned him, he denied it.

He had eventually managed to free one of his arms from the tar, taking a swipe at Akuma using his quirk. He barely grazed the side of her head, and half a second later there was a bullet lodged in his.

And you just stood there, watching. Watching as he hurt, watching as he died. Watching as a wife lost her husband, and two children lost their father.

“Y’know, I think this is the first time I’ve managed to sneak up on you.”

You startle when a voice sounds too close to your ear, jumping away and nearly falling off the bench. Beside you, Oracle snickers, leaning back casually.

“You’re tricky to find, you know,” you grumble, willing your heartbeat to slow down from the scare.

“That’s good,” they say, “Don’t need heroes sniffing around for me.”

“Why not just get a license?”

“And be at the beck and call of a corrupt organization?” they scoff, though their tone isn’t malicious. “No thanks.”

You shrug, and slouch against the back of the bench. They weren’t wrong, you supposed. When it came to morals and humane treatment, the Commission wasn’t much better than a bunch of villains.

“Why are you looking for me, Y/N?” they ask, and you sigh.

“I need more information, about the vision you had.”

“A real disaster, that one. No one believed me when I told them to be on the lookout for Akuma.”

You chew on the inside of your cheek. “Most pros would think she’s too noteworthy to be smuggled into the country. In their eyes, it’s an impossible scenario.” Or too stupid to realize that people can do whatever they want, if they have the right connections and the right amount of money.

Oracle hums, considering your words. “It’s only impossible if someone steps in and takes her down. But what happens when everyone figures ‘someone else will do it’?”

“It never gets done.”

“It never gets done. Inaction is the very reason Akuma was even able to get here.”

You’re both quiet for a few beats, before they speak again. 

“While I saw you dying, I took a look around the area. There was a chicken restaurant, with a flyer in the window. That’s where I got the date from.” They fiddle a little with their hood, pushing some loose strands of dark hair back under it. “It’s adjacent to a radio studio. The restaurant is a hole in the wall kind of place, family owned I think, not a chain store.”

“What’s it called?”

“Dunno. I didn’t see the whole sign. There was a picture of a really fat chicken cartoon, though.” They stand up off the bench and stretch, a couple pops coming from their spine. “Now, if that’s all-”

“Does anyone ever survive?”

They pause. “Survive?”

You look up at them sadly, and for a moment you see a flash of compassion on their face. “You see people die. Have your warnings ever saved anyone?”

In a moment, their expression changes to something far more fatigued than you’d ever seen someone so young wear, and your stomach feels like it’s been pumped full of lead.

“I don’t see people die,” they say quietly, “I see the moments leading up to someone’s death. I give people a place, a time when I’m able to, but what they do with that information is up to them. Sometimes they don’t believe me, sometimes they think they can get around it.”

“What about the ones who listen?”

Oracle shrugs, stuffing their hands in their pockets. “Sometimes they end up somewhere by accident, if they’re not paying attention.”

“Please stop being cryptic.”

They roll their eyes. “You need to be cognizant of my warnings, and not take them lightly. You have to be aware and alert all the time. The people who ignore me, or think they’re above dying, or find themselves somewhere by accident. Do you know what they have in common?”

“No,” you hiss, “that’s why I’m asking.”

Bright honey brown eyes pierce into your own, reaching a depth in your soul you never thought possible, and Oracle’s next words shake you to the bone.

“Hopelessness. Guilt, anger, shame, exhaustion, anything that gnaws away at hope like a dog’s chewtoy. In order to survive, some part of you has to want to live.” They shuffle their feet a bit, taking a few steps away from you. “I don’t know what you’re planning to do, and I don’t really care. But if you’re gonna walk right into this shitshow, you have to want to come out.”

They turn on their heel and start walking away, disappearing into the darkness, leaving you sitting beneath the flickering street lamp.

[bittersweetmelxdy]

the other end of my scarlet thread...

Words: 4,255

Summary: Every year at midnight of Christmas Night, everyone is able to see the red string of fate connecting them to their soulmate. Y/N has spent the last few years, chasing hers with no avail and is just about to give up, and simply spends her Christmas at the LFG company party, and then goes home alone. Victor has known who his soulmate is since the first year Y/N joined the company, however that was also the year he heard Y/N say in a drunken ramble (due to spiked punch) say that in a tier list of ‘who she’d date in LFG’, Victor didn’t even make the list. This year he plans not only to get on that list, but to be her only option.

Merry Christmas @chibienvychan03​, I’m your Secret Santa, I hope you enjoy it <3

Standing in the lobby of LFG, you tried to psyche yourself up to deliver the report to Victor, it would be your last report this year and you and your team had spent countless sleepless nights writing and refining the report so you could hopefully end the year on a glowing report. However, knowing Victor’s nitpicking tendencies you had literally stressed about this all night and even on the drive up to LFG, you had practiced the report with Anna, adding answers to questions you felt Victor would ask. However, the time had come, and Goldman walking up to you signaled that Victor was ready to see you.

“You look like death warmed up.” Goldman said as he got close to you.

“Gee, Goldman glad to see you too.” you replied playfully.

“I’m serious, you look even worse than the very first Christmas party you attended at LFG and you were so drunk.”

“Remind me, not to trust the communal punch bowl again.” you groaned, rubbing your forehead as if to banish the memory from you.

“Though I have to say, I didn’t think you’d have even less of a filter drunk than you did sober, it was pretty entertaining.” Goldman nudged you, as he laughed, “I mean that tier list, I didn’t even know you knew the main employees at LFG.”

“Of course, I do, I make a point to know all the people I interact with.” you said in a prideful tone.

Goldman scoffed, “Sure, you’re such a model business partner, you should give lessons.”  

“I think you’re just mad I only put you as a ‘B’ on my list.” you stuck your tongue out at him.

“I wouldn’t date you if you paid me.” Goldman threw back, at your scandalised gasp, “I think everyone was more shocked our CEO wasn’t even on your list.”

“There is no way I’d go out with a man who doesn’t even call me by my own name.” you pouted.

“Don’t you think maybe it’s just affectionate teasing?” Goldman asked.

“You’re on thin ice Goldman, keep talking and you won’t be getting away of my famous gingerbread.” you threatened, pointing a finger in his face, as you both stopped in front of Victor’s office.

Goldman grabbed the finger lightly, moving it from his face, “Alright, alright, I’ll stop. Go and give your report.”

You turned your head, noticing you had reached your destination, and quickly stepped away from Goldman. Fixing your appearance and taking a deep breath, after throwing a final glare at Goldman you raised your hand and knocked thrice on the door. After a minute you heard a deep “Come in.” and you stepped over the threshold to accept your fate.

After you finished your report, having answered ten grueling questions from Victor, and barely stuttering through the questions that despite your careful planning you somehow hadn’t prepared for. You now stood with bated breath, wondering why Victor hadn’t let you leave yet, as you shifted your weight from foot to foot as the silence grew between you. Watching Victor shuffle his papers and sign documents you kicked the floor slightly with the toe of your shoe, the slight noise alerting Victor.

“Hey, take a seat, I’ll be done in a minute and I’ll give you a lift back.” Victor gestured at the couch in the side of his office, and without waiting for your response went back to work.

Swallowing the barb dancing on the tip of your tongue, you walked over and plopped down on the couch, pulling out your phone to watch some videos whilst you waited for Victor. After a few minutes, you suddenly felt your phone being pulled slightly out of your grasp, and looking up you noticed Victor hovering over you, already dressed in his coat.

“Come on Dummy, let’s go.” Victor called and then stood back to his full height turning around to walk back to his desk to pick up his briefcase and file folder.  

You couldn’t help admiring the fine figure Victor cut in his winter get up, checking him out but quickly averting your eyes when he faced you once again. Standing up, you smoothed your outfit and then followed Victor, thanking him as he opened the door for you to exit the office. Passing through the corridors you passed Goldman, who seeing you with the CEO raised an eyebrow at you, but just as you took a deep breath to yell at him, he quickly called out.

“Remember, I don’t eat peppermint.” Goldman said patting you on the shoulder before leaving quickly before you could retort.

Shaking you head, huffing out a laugh and rolling your eyes as Victor behind you furrowed his brows casting his eyes between you and Goldman in confusion. However, he didn’t breach the subject until you were both sitting in his car and as he drove you home.

“So... what did Goldman mean?” Victor coughed once and glanced at you almost bashfully, but all this was lost on you as you kept your eyes on the scenery outside of the window.

“Oh, I bake a whole batch of gingerbread every year for my friends and stuff. And I do different flavour combinations for different people depending on their taste.

“You bake, does it taste good?” Victor said, and sadly his intended tease fell flat at your response.

“It’s good enough for people who aren’t gourmet chefs at least.” you threw back spitefully, and Victor winced slightly, deciding to change the topic instead.

“Anyway... you got any plans for Christmas?” Victor asked.

Deciding to cut him some slack, you humoured him in the change of subject, “No plans, apart from the LFG Christmas Party.”

“No... no plans with your soulmate?”

You laughed bitterly, raising your left hand to stare at your pinky finger, “I’ve spent years chasing after them and he obviously doesn’t want to find me, I think after this year, I’m just going to give up.”

Victor choked on his breath as he stopped outside your apartment building, turning to look at you with slight panic in his eyes, “What if he IS looking for you, right now?” he asked. You shrugged unbuckling your seatbelt and hopping out of his car, not answering his question you then shut the car door, turning to enter your building, missing how Victor stared at your retreating figure with determination in his eyes.

A few days passed and you found yourself navigating the supermarket at an ungodly hour of 1am so that you it was finally quiet and the only people accompanying you were tired college students and insomniacs. You picked up a basket, yawning as you walked through the automatic doors, before first navigating through the fruit and veg aisles, to pick up fresh ginger, oranges and other ingredients. You snapped a quick picture of the empty aisles, uploading it to your Moments with a yawning and sleepy emoji as the caption alongside the words, ‘Night Owl’, as you entered the dairy section. Crouching down in front of the various pots of double cream, you unlocked your phone to check the quantities you needed when you felt a cool sensation atop your head. Looking up, to your surprise, was Victor standing next to you, still dressed impeccably, a stark contrast to your very casual outfit. Grabbing the appropriate double cream containers and carefully placing them in your basket, you stood, and Victor placed a can of tea in your hands, before bending slightly and picking up your heavy basket with ease.

“You need anything else?” Victor asked softly, and you tilted your head as you once again saw the rare appearance of “soft Victor”, something that never failed to make you heartbeat race.

“Ah... um...” You stopped and collected your thoughts under Victor’s amused gaze, “No, I think I got everything. How come you’re here I thought you preached “8 hours of sleep a day”, and “if you don’t get enough sleep, you’ll continue to make stupid mistakes”.” during your quotations you deepened your voice to mimic Victor, before realising that it wasn’t the best idea to mock the prime investor of your company and you covered your mouth with your hands.

“Sorry, I shouldn’t have said that.” you apologised quickly, looking in the opposite direction of Victor.

Victor sighed, switching the basket to the outside and reaching out he placed his larger hand atop your head, ruffling your tresses affectionately, “If you have time to practice impressions of me, you should instead put that energy into proofreading your report.” you looked up and stared as Victor smiled softly at you, but you chalked it up to your sleepy state, and you spent the next half hour wandering the aisles of the deserted supermarket with Victor, picking up various ingredients and supplies, and finally once you reached the checkout, as you fumbled in your purse for your wallet, Victor took the opportunity to swipe his black card and pay for your groceries.

Leaving the supermarket holding the lighter of your bags, you turned to Victor to admonish him for his act, “Victor, I could’ve paid you know!”  

“I know that, just thought I’d help you out.” Victor shrugged before raising a hand to halt your open mouth, “No, you do not need to pay me back,”

You shut your mouth, and after a couple beats of silence, you erupted in giggles as Victor watching you also began to laugh at the silliness of the whole situation. Your combined breaths swirling around you both in white whisps, as you both calmed down. Once you had both regained your composure, you extended your hand out for Victor to return the bag to you so you can go home. But to your surprise Victor shook his head silently at you and then grabbed your right hand, leading you over to his car. As you walked the short distance in the still night blanketing Loveland City, you furrowed your brow as you felt a weird tingling feeling in your left pinky and looking down there was no visible change but shaking you head you dispelled such thoughts and simply followed the CEO with full trust.

A few more days passed, and you were window shopping in the New Light Mall, looking for a dress for the LFG Christmas Party. You had planned to just recycle a dress you already owned with a different jacket and some new accessories, but to your horror you noticed it had a stain on it, and it was in a pretty noticeable spot. Taking it to the drycleaners, the workers sadly informed that due to the holiday season, they would be unable to get it back to you before the Christmas Party date, knowing it was a fruitless endeavour, you apologised to the workers but still left the dress with them so you could at least have a clean dress for the next fancy function.  

Leading you to the current predicament, aimlessly wandering through the shopping centre, window shopping and hoping something would catch your eye. After an hour of searching, you were just about ready to give up when a simple dress caught your eye. Approaching the window, you noted that although the dress seemed simple in its cut and style, the choice of slightly shimmery satin gave it an air of elegance, and even better because of the simple but fashionable cut you could easily rewear the dress and change the look with different accessories. Casting your eyes to the side of the mannequin you saw a small plaque with the pricing of the dress, and your eyes lit up seeing it was an affordable price. Entering the store, you prayed silently that the store would carry your size, and lo and behold, it did. You held the dress up against your figure, as you watched yourself in the full-view mirror, giggling lightly and swishing out the skirt to admire the cut.  

After purchasing the dress, you noted the sky had grown dark and as you left the shopping centre you decided to take a detour through Creek Ancient Street where you knew there was a light display, before heading home. Just from approaching the bridge that led into Creek Ancient Street you could see the steady stream of people and the faint glow of the Christmas lights. Skipping your way past the colourful market stalls and following the pathway of lights, you found yourself in front of a large tree in the middle of the crossroads. The silver lights twinkled in the branches and in the darkness, it looked like scattered stars and casting your eyes to the side you saw that for a small price you could purchase a small ornament which you could attach a written wish to and then you could hang it on the tree’s branches. Walking towards the stall vendor, you examined the rows upon rows of Christmas ornaments, before spotting a small, cute snowman that wore a simple santa hat and a red sparkly bow around its neck. Pointing at it you asked for the vendor to take it down for you, when the vendor’s comment made you pause.

“Miss, this snowman comes in a pair would you like to buy the other one too?” the vendor handed you the smaller snowman, and then retrieved the snowman’s counterpart, a taller snowman with a deep red scarf, black hat and thick eyebrows, and showed him to you.

Looking at how well the pair looked together, you felt awkward in splitting them up, so you were about to hand the snowman back when a large hand appeared over your shoulder and plucked the snowman out of the vendors hand, replacing it with money to cover both ornaments. Turning your head quickly, your eyes widened as the sight of Victor, who simply thanked the vendor, who smiled in thanks for the purchase, and then he spun you around and led you over to the tree.

“Victor, what are you doing here?” you questioned.

“Just passing by.” Victor coughed into his fist and averted his eyes, and you could be mistaken but in the low hazy lighting you were almost certain that the red on the tips of his ears was out of embarrassment rather than the cold.  

You squinted in skepticism at Victor’s response, with how far away you were from LFG it seemed unlikely that Victor was simply “passing by”. But shrugging you turned your eyes to the ornament and after running over the snowman with your thumb, you uncapped a pen from the jar on a table next to the tree and thought about your wish.

“You not going to wish to meet your soulmate?” Victor asked.

Noting this was the second time in the last week Victor had brought this up you queried him, “Why are you so interested in my soulmate?”

“Maybe finding your soulmate will make you better at your work.” Victor teased, poking you directly in the middle of your forehead.

“Hey!” you rubbed your forehead pouting, “What about you?”

“What about me?” Victor asked, not watching you but instead finishing to write his wish.

“Is your wish about finding your soulmate?”

Victor stopped looked at you for a few seconds, before reaching up and hanging his ornament on the tree branch before answering with a simple, “Something like that.”

You hurriedly finished your wish with hopes of the coming year to make your father proud, and whilst handing the ornament to Victor your fingers brushed his palm, and as he turned to hang your ornament next to his you felt that tingling sensation in your pinky finger once again. Thinking it was simply pin and needles you rubbed it with your other hand until the feeling faded once again.

Stepping into the rented, lavishly decorated rented hall that was the location of the LFG Christmas Party, you marveled at the decorations, snapping pictures of the decorations to quickly add to your Moments. When you felt a hand on your shoulder, and you jumped with a small yelp.

“Goldman!” you called, spinning around, and seeing the drink in his hand you looked around for a waiter.

“Don't even think about it, the waiters know not to give you any alcohol.” Goldman told you.

“Come on, one glass.” you pouted.

“Talk to me when you stop being a lightweight.” Goldman deadpanned, despite your sad puppy dog eyes, “Anyway don’t you want to spend one party sober so you can find you soulmate?”

You scoffed, “Fine, but when I don’t find him, you owe me.” you pointed at him accusatorily.

Goldman nodded and then you and him after a short conversation, you both parted and you spent the next few hours talking to various employees of LFG, and taking some fun selfies with Kiki, Willow and Anna. Finally, as midnight drew closer your social battery was running low and you made your way over a deserted balcony, and you sighed leaning your arms on the railing.

“Please tell me no-one gave you alcohol.” a deep baritone cut through your reverie, and you opened your eyes to watch as he approached you and at your shiver Victor began to take off his coat, reaching to put it around your shoulders.

“Shouldn’t you save this behaviour for your soulmate?” You teased.

“Be worried about a certain Dummy’s health isn’t something my soulmate would get mad at me about.” Victor threw back, his tone softer than usual but you felt this was due to the festive period.

You sighed, casting your eyes to the stars twinkling above, “How come you’re so calm?”

“Sorry?”

“Most people your age seem more concerned that they haven't found their soulmate.” you mused.

“My age?” Victor teased, standing next to you and placing a hand next to your elbow, so he could lean over you slightly, “Am I so old to you?”

“You know what I mean.” you rolled our eyes.

“Aren’t people YOUR age still full of hopeless fantasies about your soulmates?”

“Yeah, some of us aren’t.” you sighed, drawing a circle on the stone railing.

“Really, with an imagination like yours I’d expect you had your whole future planned out by now.”

“I did once,” you smiled, rested your hands flat against the railing and leaned backwards, “I still have the scrapbook I made with my high school friends, it may seem silly but it was really fun at the time.” you didn’t know why, but you suddenly felt you had to justify embarrassing younger self to Victor.  

Victor reached out and placed it on your head, stroking your hair gently, “It’s not silly, not at all.” his soft tone, caused a heat to prickle under your cheeks.

“Thanks Victor, you’re really sweet when you want to be.”

“I’m glad even someone like you can see my good points.”

You scoffed, “You’re a good guy Victor, anyone would be lucky to have you.”

“Even you?”

You laughed, “Yeah even m-”

The clock struck midnight, and you looked down seeing a bright scarlet thread materialise around your left pinky finger, a neat little bow adorning it. Following the thread with your eyes, to your absolute horror for the first time in your life you saw the end of the red thread, neatly tied around Victor’s finger. You felt like ice cold water had been poured down your back, and you felt faint, stumbling backwards as you realised the only one who was shocked was you.

You lifted your trembling left index finger, pointing it Victor, “Y-y-y-you knew?”

Victor realising this was going south, tried to placate you, “Listen y/n-”

“How long?”

“...”

“How long, Victor!”

“... the first year you collaborated with LFG.”  

“It must have been real fun for you, to string me along whilst you laughed behind my back.”

“No, that’s not it.” Victor took a step towards you, but you shook your head, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes, stepping back once more, you ripped his jacket from your shoulders throwing it haphazardly at Victor’s face, before fleeing the venue.

Reaching home, you threw yourself on your bed not bothering to take off any of your clothes and started sobbing into your pillow. It wasn’t that you were disappointed in WHO your soulmate was, in fact part of your tears were full of relief, knowing that the guy you were beginning to fall for was your soulmate. Now the guilty feelings that were beginning to surface, that you were betraying your soulmate could be put to rest. You rolled over onto your back, teary eyes staring at your ceiling and hugging your pillow tightly to your chest. ‘What am I going to do now?’ you wondered closing your eyes and slipping off into a dreamless sleep.

You had spent the last week, avoiding Victor at all costs. If you had a meeting at LFG, Anna subbed in for you, saw him in the corridor, you hid behind a potted plant until you were certain he had gone. you had even recruited Goldman to give you updates on Victor’s movements, and although he had no idea what was going on, bless his heart he was still helping you avoid his boss.  

You sighed, leaning against the wall of an empty hallway in LFG on New Year’s Eve with Goldman staring at you confused.

“So... why are you avoiding the boss?” Goldman asked, passing you a water bottle from the vending machine.

“Hah... I... Goldman I-”

“So, you found out?”

You whipped your head up to look at Goldman where he stood next to you taking a sip of his own water bottle, “Y-y-y-you knew?”

Goldman shook his head, “Not for definite but I had a feeling, most of the office did, there’s still an active betting pool on when the two of you are going to finally get together.”

You felt the heat prickle in your cheeks, “A-a-are you part of it?”

Goldman snorted lightly, and offered no response, which meant he was definitely in on it, “Do you like him?”

“Who? Victor?”

“No, the other CEO who’s your soulmate.” Goldman deadpanned.

“I... I do, it’s just he never-”

“For someone who runs around talking about how everyone has different love languages, you really fail to see when someone’s speaking yours.” Goldman pushed off the wall and stood in front of you, “I know I poke fun at you at lot, but I mean it when I say please don’t do that thing you do when you run away from your problems.”

“I don’t-”

“Y/N.” Goldman said sternly.

You sighed again, watching out the window at the city lights blinking as the city prepared to celebrate the new year. “I’ll think about it.” you finished the conversation there and made your way into the streets of Loveland City.  

After aimlessly walking around the streets of Loveland City, your heart twinging with sadness every time you passed a happy couple snuggled up to each other whispering softly to each other in the wintery air. In a strange coincidence you ended up back at the large Christmas tree where you had bought the ornament. As you approached the tree you noticed that the shop vendors were taking down some of the ornaments and by chance the vendor you had bought the snowman from the first time spotted you and waved you over.

“Miss!” he called smiling at you brightly.

“Hello.” catching his infectious energy you smile brightly in return, “How come the ornaments are coming down?”

“City Council wants to take down some of the ornaments, so we don’t harm the tree, but I’m glad I caught you.” he then handed the two snowman you and Victor had bought over to you.

“Um, this one isn’t mine...” you started.

“Could you pass it to the gentleman that came with you?” the vendor smiled and then ran off before you could clarify to the vendor that you and Victor weren’t like that.

‘Yet’ your mind whispered, and you shook your head vehemently as if to shake it out of your head.

Stepping into the square, you saw that the minute countdown had started for the new year and you stood stock still amidst the happy people anticipating the new year, caressing Victor’s snowman with your thumb, before the crinkling of the paper caught your eye. Your curiosity winning over your conscience, caused you to turn the paper over to see in Victor’s neat handwriting.

“Please let Y/N, love me back.” a deep baritone voice was heard above you, and you looked up in surprise to catch Victor’s soft eyes.

“Victor?” you whispered, as he approached you, his large hands reaching out to hold your cold cheeks.

“You never let me finish, before you ran off.” Victor said, “I’ve known since the first year, but you got drunk and wouldn’t even put me of your list of people you would date in the company, I’ve spent few years trying to get you to see me in the way I see you.”

“You like me too?” you said in disbelief, the multiple times that Victor was sharp with you flashing through your eyes before overlapping with all the times he was soft with you.

The countdown hit zero as Victor rested his forehead against yours, and as the cheers of the public became background noise around you as the only thing you could hear was Victor’s deep voice saying sincerely to you.

“Dummy, since the moment I met you, I’ve been waiting for you to see the light.”