#this guy also has one for car crashes and i only noticed after the russian wagner kicked the bucket 💀
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how to explain to non-americans that the better call saul ads aren’t exaggerated for comedic effect they are super normie
#adding my personal favorite lawyer billboard#this guy also has one for car crashes and i only noticed after the russian wagner kicked the bucket 💀
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Crash-course for all the evidence of Will creating the mindflayer/upsidedown
* Honestly I’ve talked about this stuff in my did theories- where I explained how the upsidedown/mf/ the lab subjects/ and russians all connect back to Will creating them. But since so may people assume that Will got his powers from the upsidedown/mf rather than Will creating it all subconsciously (with his powers). Thought i’d do a short analysis of just that connection (without boggling it down with those other plot lines that are interconnected) . *So I’m not mentioning the lights -because it interconnects with the numbers/lab.I’m just going to list every example in short succession from every season for brevity’s sake (so it won’t be structured as eloquently as prior analyses).
refresher of how Will influences the mf/upsidedown ...
S1)
Will ( in s1e1) says to Dustin if he could have any comic it would be the xmen. Dustin later says "do you think - el was born with her powers like the xmen? " Will plays a d&d game saying the demogorgan got him -so it does irl. Will writes stories where bad guys weakness are fire so the mf/ demogorgans are lit on fire in s1-3 (and it's their weakness). Will watches poltergeist so Will is forced to be the child character in that film- who was trapped in a alternative dimension and could only speak to their mother through tech. The demogrgan is said to resemble a shark by nancy-mathcing Will’s Jaws movie poster in his room.��in s1 Mr clarke describes the vale of shadows (later the upsidedown) as being created by “necrotic” (’dead’-zombie boy) and “shadow” (shadow monster/mf) “magic”. In d&d the Vale of Shadows, is as a lush valley hidden in the mountains that holds a sacred pool with the power to make dreams reality. In d&d the demogorgan is literally called the "deep father" in d&d Nancy also says the demogorgan is like a “lion” the meaning of the name Lonnie- is literally “lion”. We see it attack Will when using lonnie's gun (in lonnie's shed). And it knocks the bat out of Jonathan's hand too. (Baseball/hunting were taught by their dad lonnie). The demogorgan also hurts a deer- mirroring Jonathan's story about how Lonnie forced him to kill a rabbit and how this upset him as he was a fan of the rabbit character from the film bambi.. El when she first sees the demogorgan also sees it eating it’s own eggs-aka symbolically the father hurting his own children. Will's password for cb is rhadagast a wizard who protects Wildlife (the opposite of Hunter-lonnie/the demogorgan).
Duffers cited as inspo the silent hill videogames): And in s1 Hopper named dropped the character Alessa’s last name. “The bad guys faked Alessa’s death. Kaufmann prepared a substitute body of alessa; and performed the fake autopsy (like Will) . Alessa had precognition (future/intuition-like will the wise is said to have in s3) and pyrokinesis (firepowers mentioned Will the wise has in s1). Alessa’s latent psychic abilities are triggered and she shrouds Silent Hill in fog and an altered reality to prevent her ab*sive parent’s schemes from advancing. Many of the drastic changes that befall the town in the game, such as the horrific creatures that come to inhabit it, are conjured from her imagination and delusions. “
Will also says in s1ep1 he wants xmen 134-about the dark phoenix saga. ‘dark phoenix’ - has pyrokinesis ( fire powers-like Will the wise). And the dark phoenix also “was able to warp reality on a universal scale”. One of the phoenix’s host was even the god Thor (god of lightning-an element Will is associated with a lot in s2)
(in s1 Will also spit up a slug- in d&d putting a slug in a humanoid can create/turn that humanoid into a mf. foreshadowing Will being posessed/becoming the mf in s2. ).
S2)
Will plays digdug (a videogame about underground tunnels) so the mf creates tunnels. Will's dog dies so demogogans become demo-dogs. He also watches Ghostbusters- where a character is possessed by the ‘gate keeper’ and can control demon dogs. So this happens to Will too -similar to s1 with poltergeist .In s1 , Hopper even mentions the book Cujo about a violent dog, who is replaced by a new dog named ‘Willie’ (to allude to this).In s1 we see Mike holding a drawing of Will’s- where Will's wizard has lightning powers (coming from his hand). everytime Will uses tech in s1, the phones explode and lighting appears out of them- hopper makes a BBQ joke about the burned phones.later in s2 the mf has these same lightning abilities and the lab technician makes the same BBQ joke.Joyce even describes the tunnels of the mf/ that Will’s draws as “like lightning.” We also see the russians eviserated by lightning next season too.
A lab tech calls Will a wizard-and they monitor his brain waves, record him on video, just like they did to El .(when the mf first appears at Will’s house- the lab techs even notice ). The drawing of the mf is next to a baseball (Lonnie ref) and Will says it was a drawing for a story he wrote. In s2 Nancy describes the mindflayer (but she’s actually describing Will).“So this thing is like a brain that’s controlling everything.”Because it’s not the mindflayers’ brain - it’s Will’s brain controlling everything. ( a “hive mind” aka the mf/WILL share a brain ). Owens in s2e1 (BEFORE the mf possession) says Will's ‘anniversary affect’ would make him remember “tra*matic memories” and “OPEN the neurological flood GATES” (aka Will’s neurological GATES are the gates between the real world and upsidedown - which are connected to the mf).
Owens in s2e1 (after mentioning the “gates”) even says Will's ‘anniversary affect’ / “tr*umatic memories” would cause temporary “personality changes”for Will (the later mf possession) . I mean... Owens wasn’t entirely wrong was he? Will even feels the back of his neck in s2 and says it has to do with “memories” ...and in s3 feeling the back of his neck meant Will was sensing the mf. Similarly, before his possession-mr clarke mentions phineus gage who after an accident had a “complete change to his personality” (and the shot pans to Will).
Nancy even calls the mind flayer the “mind-flamer”- hinting at it’s connection to Will the wise who has fire powers). And Dustin says the mf “takes over minds with it’s highly developed psyionic abilities “ And to “summon an undead army... cause the mindflayer loves brains ” ( and in s3 the mf creates a undead army by taking over people’s brains). Hopper even says “So how do we kill this thing shoot it with fireballs ?” (which destroys the flesh-monster in s3) ”
S3)
Will (the “zombie boy”) writes a story about juju zombies after watching a film about zombies at starcourt in s3 - then the mf creates a undead army -which was also foreshadowed in s2 (and similar to Will’s s3 d&d story). We also see Will wrote this d&d story in front of "the thing" poster. So the mf creates a flesh monster resembling the creature in that film too. We also see someone get bit (el) like in Will's story and when his friends retcon his ending to be about “sacrificing themselves via explosion (Hopper).” Will just says “fine you win” (so it ends that way).Also, the shadow monster is now called the Mindflayer - and mimics the mf from d&d (both can control rats with their powers in the show/game).
Will in s2-3 grabs the back of his neck and he attributed it to “memories”, “dreams”, and sensing the mf. Will created castle byers after his dad left and he grabs the bat in cb which was next to the Will the wise drawing (similar to how the baseball was next to the mf drawing in s2) and destroys cb with said bat . Then Will touches his neck and admits the mf has returned. EVERY moment Will senses the mf can be loosely connected to Lonnie. Lonnie used to call him h*mophobic sl*rs so anytime he subconsciously thinks of his feelings towards Mike the mf appears-1st time it’s on one of their ‘movie dates’, 2nd time when Mike and El walk off together down the hill to make-out, 3rd time right after he smashed castle byers after Mike says “it’s not my fault you don’t like girls”, 4th time (after the fight with Mike) when Billy is yelling to open the door (a trigger) and confides in Mike, 5th time when Mike asks him to go away so he can talk to El in the hospital waiting area, and 6th time when Mike says he loves El. The 7th time is when Jonathan is fixing up a car -something Lonnie used to do.Lonnie fixes up cars as a hobby-showing his remodeled car to Jonathan in s1 . Will then senses the mf and grabs his neck-which he said are connected to old “memories”. max and Mike are silent until Jonathan says says “got it (the distributor)”. Then Mike screams for his older sibling. We also see in s1 Jonathan checked to see if Lonnie threw Will in his trunk- something the mf does to some of his victims in s3.
Dustin and susie sing “never ending story”- which is literally about a seemingly normal boy named Sebastian with a bowl cut (from a single parent home) subconsciously making a fantasy world being invaded by a dark force (representing the loss of hope/dreams) that only his imagination powers can fix . “make believe i’m everywhere ... what you dream will be...Rhymes that keep their secrets Will unfold behind the clouds.And there upon a rainbow Is the answer to a never ending story” . Cough-Will’s rainbow ship he CREATED.Both times the lyric plays “Rhymes that keep their secrets WILL “ ( it pans to Will).
The film also follows a false chosen one who everyone says is supposed to save fantasia- named Atreyu (el). Specifically, for that plotwist that Sebastian (Will) has to be the one to do so , not Atreyu (who sebastian subconsciously created). In the novel/film-Atreyu ( the child who was deemed the ‘chosen one) is knocked from Falkor’s back, and into the sea of possibilities. There he wakes on the shore of abandoned ruins.
“There Gmork (The Mindflayer) reveals himself, having been lying in wait.And then latches his jaws onto Atreyu’s leg.”
-Before the duet, Susie tells dusin she’s reading “ a wizard of earthsea” and says ged is about to save his world. The book is about a boy-wizard named Ged (Will) who casts a powerful spell, but the spell goes awry and instead he releases a shadow creature! The new Archmage, Gensher, describes the shadow as an ancient evil that wishes to possess Ged. But the ‘shadow’ turns out to be a representation of the darkest aspects of his personality. And the only way for the world to be saved is for the 2 to merge and for Ged to accept himself .
-Will says he’s a wizard ( writing on a music tape in s3 “will the wise-wizard mix’ and having his password for castle byers be ‘rhadaghast’- a lotr wizard). The way they describe d&d Wizards matches Will/mindflayer perfectly “Wizards are adepts and magicians who combine according to the type of their spells. Relying on the subtle weaves of magic that permeate the universe, wizards are able to create spells of explosive fire, sparking lightning, subtle deception, and gross mind control. Their magic summons monsters from other planes of existence, predicts the future, and turns defeated enemies into zombies. Their most powerful spells can transform one substance into another, summon meteors from the sky, and open portals to other worlds” (all these powers Will the wise/mf are implied to have)
- Stranger things d&d comic (published post s3) : Will creating a illusion army of monsters -as Will the wizard.
- stranger writers twitter reffed several movies which discuss artist/writer WILLiam Blake who helped make the art exhibit “worlds turned upsidedown”
possible reason for the flayed eating chemicals& fertilizer (in s3)
full link/credits here. Lonnie’s gf has a biker shirt from Harley davidson- with the eagle logo and their saying “live to ride’. Which would imply lonnie is also in such biker circles. Harley davidson in the 80s had dr*g gangs too (primarily m*th).
One reason m*th is so prevalent in rural areas is that it can be formulated, or “cooked,” by small producers and one of the ingredients is readily found on most farms – anhydrous AMMONIA fertilizer. Both farmers and chemical suppliers have experienced thefts of anhydrous particularly in the Midwest.“
WHICH REMINDS ME OF the FLAYED EATING FERTILIZER AND CHEMICALS IN S3 . Nancy even says farmers/chem suppliers are having fertilizer stolen! And she later thinks flayed tom was on drugs- “A mysterious case of the missing fertilizer- a Nancy Drew Mystery”. This is also in the same season one character (who looks a bit like Lonnie) is a biker is corrupting the town.
Will creating /basing the supernatural from suppressed memories -means it’s from a very young child’s perspective . young Will would equate people eating chemicals, ammonia fertilizer, and ammonia... to using those SAME chemicals to create m*th and then physically consuming them . Why we see mrs driscoll eating fertilizer & Billy drinking ammonia.
The reason the flayed started behaving differently is probably because in s2 Will was forcibly injected with a needle & woken up with ammonia by Hopper-jogging some of those old memories.
EVEN Nancy’s proof Tom is on dr*gs is a symptom of m*th use or withdrawl from it-excessive sweating (like all the flayed in s2-3). M*th causes hyperthermia (body is at a higher temp than usual)-so they like it cold!!!!! Even clammy hands that she mentioned is a symptom of m*th use. in children it can even cause seizures- like Will :(
And when m*th is made via fertilizer it first is made into a highly corrosive liquid which is sometimes green-like the Russian lab.“six pounds of toxic waste is created for every pound of m*th manufactured. The waste is often dumped on farms, in rivers and and is harmful to the environment.” Like all the chemical leaks relating to Hawkins lab/mf that affected the crops in s2/this pic of water in s3.
m*th was even called ‘bathroom crank’-which is sketchy given the bathtub is what mf fears and how the sensory deprivation tank is also called a ‘tub’ by el . Becky even said Brenner would get terry high and throw her in the tank/tub.
It also does take some chemisty knowledge to COVERT various substances (including fertilizer and other chemicals) to make m*th- which reminds me of the kids saying they can convert one substance into another (when explaining why the possessed are eating chemicals)- they say they’re making a new chemical “in themselves”
other hints
Will’s b day is march 22 . Which is when “fire burns most brightly” and his ‘birthday number is number 7′ (”it was a 7 the demogorgan it got me′) . The number 7 is specifically associated with “wisdom and psychic abilities”. His b day even adds up to 7 (3+2+2).His horoscope is also influenced by the shadow god-ketu (who is also associated with wisdom and psychic abilities too).
* There’s way more details/depth/ other st inspirations in my DID analyses -specifically pt 2. (where i discuss how the mf/upsidedown connects to the numbers/russians- and also specifially Will).But this is just a crash course about the flayed/upsideown/it’s creatures connect to Will.
People will dismiss all of this as just the Duffers liking to reference random things they like/ and foreshadow via d&d without any in universe reason. but I really think that’s a disappointing explanation/outcome. Especially the predictable cliche theory that the mf is just experiment #1. Not only is it boring, cliche, and predictable af- but it doesn’t line up as well with the mental health themes mentioned in ever season.Will created everything via tr*uma cause of his dad- and overcomes this: is not only a “twist” that will make rewatching more enjoyable given all the hints- it’s more narratively sound given how much the series touches on themes such as overcoming tra*ma, mental health, and problematic fathers. The #1/ex experiment=mf theory doesn’t explain why they made the supernatural connect to Will in this way . And with such a boring cliche ending it would quickly be forgotten like other big sci-fi/fantasy shows that quickly lost relevancy after being popular: like heros, g.o.t, etc.One makes the show cliche another makes it remembered for decades (ex: jacob’s ladder).
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Tolerate It - Part 7
Lena Luthor x reader, Kara Danvers x reader, Alex Danvers x reader. Baby Danvers.
Notes: Part 7 is finally out! after rewriting and doubting so much I finally came with this part. Not gonna lie, not the finest part of this story but its okay I guess. Sorry again for my bad writing :/
I’m receiving any request, comment, feedback, opining gladly. I hope you guys like it! Thank you so much for the support, I hope I can update tomorrow too but lets wait. Have a great day!
Taglist: @multi-images @captain-josslett
Russian Translations:
Принцесса - Princess
Не сейчас - Not now
Мы получили встречу с возможным партнером организации в мероприятии в Старлинг-Сити - We got a meeting with a possible partner of the organization in an event in Starling City
Хорошо - Okay
You looked up to see the now in her late 20s woman, staring at you with surprise and worries. Slowly her eyes ranked to your chest, where notorious scars could be seen. Some of them are larger and older and others newer and smaller, and on top of your right chest, the tattoo of the Bratva stood proudly, big enough for her to notice it but not recognizing the interpretation.
“How can I help you?” You offered, cutting out of her trance. Walking inside the apartment, grabbing the nearest shirt. The brunette walked inside and glanced at it, clearing her throat, when she sensed the change in you.
“My car has a weird noise, and it broke in front of a bar. And the security guy told me the directions to the mechanic” She commented, her voice was worried and confused. The Arias woman looked at you, trying to find any resemblance to the old you.
“Okay, I will look at it” You responded with the same tone, uninterested, giving her a nod, as you walked outside on your way to the car crane.
The ride was short and silent. The brown-eyed woman in a thinking mode, as she glanced at you. In those 3 years, you let a lot of things, one of them begin how to read people. And the dumbly staring at you like you were a broken charity project did not help your case.
Sam stared at you as you worked on her car, focusing only on it. With her phone in hand, and different feelings coming to the surface as she tried to figure out the situation, and what was the right thing to do. She just came to Texas to leave Ruby in college and now after years of not knowing anything about you, she didn't know if she could even lie to your oldest sister, her girlfriend, or her best friend, Lena, your ex, about your appearance.
Two years of relationship with Alex, seeing her sometimes cry herself to sleep, or have nightmares because you are not there anymore. Sam held her close to her chest, as she did. Everyone had lost a piece of themselves when you left. Some of them have a bigger void to fill than others.
Trying to avoid the tension as you checked the engine in calmness, she spoke up softly scared of what you would say. “How are you?”
“I’m fine” You responded almost immediately, as a monotone. Not taking your focus out of your job.
Furrowing her eyebrows in confusion as she noticed your attitude, taken back by it. Thoughts and various events came into her head but were interrupted by her phone ringing. The nickname of her girlfriend, your sister appearing on the top of her screen.
With trembling hands and lips, she answered after glancing where you stood, too preoccupied with working. “Hey babe”
“Sammy! I was getting worried, I haven't heard from you and it's almost 8, are you okay? ” Alex said through the phone in one breath. The Arias woman could feel the woman's worries through her voice. Also hearing the scandal of the game night in the background.
“I’m fine, I had to get a mechanic. She is checking the car” She responded as she walked outside watching the night hitting the streets of the small town.
“She? That's great, Woman Power!” Your oldest sister said with a chuckle, Sam sensing her drunkenness', she smiled. Kara and Barry could be heard in the background fighting because of a game and challenging each other to a race. Oliver being the voice of reason stopping them.
She responded spinning back to look at you, where she heard you clearing your throat. Opening and closing her lips to say something about your presence, but preferred to talk to you before about it. “Yeah, Babe… I will call you in a minute, the mechanic is back from checking”
“Of course, don't sweat it. I love you” The redhead slurred to the phone, and Sam could hear the charming, darling smile.
Sam whispered, ending the call. “I love you too, Alex”
Thinking now how to handle a situation, where she knew where you were and how you were and your sisters didn't. How could she lie to them in their face, how can she see them breaking down because you are not there, knowing where you are. She just didn't know what to do.
“Your car broke because it has an overworking engine, and the sound of the car is because the brakes are about to break. It would take 30 min for the engine to cool down and change the brakes, 45” You interrupted her thoughts speaking, cleaning your hands with a towel.
She nodded vigorously as she spoke “Yeah, okay just tell me when you are done”
The time passed, silence overwhelmed the brunette while it calmed you. You had closed the garage the moment the coldness of the night increased. She sat straight trying to make the best conversation starter, but not finding the right words since your answers were not longer than a general sentence long.
You waited for the engine to cool down, before changing the water, putting coolant, and changing the oil. The breaks of the frontrunner were changed for the first time as you could tell. Giving Sam only small answers to her questions, your patience burning out as she kept pushing your buttons.
“Sam, I'm trying to do my job, so will you please?” You said after sliding from under the car, to look at her eye. All of your walls were up, and now with an important person from your past, you wouldn’t let it down.
Trying to keep your emotions under control, as the thoughts came in to sabotage your bottle of feelings. Memories coming back to you. Happiness and sadness overloaded your chest for the first time in a while.
Clenching your hands, as blood dripped from them. Closing your eyes as everything began to fade away. The memories, the pain, the thoughts, everything. Minutes passed and everything went back to its place. Your feelings, your thoughts, and your memories.
Sliding out as you finish, you notice the frown on the brunette's face, and most importantly the pain in her eyes. It didn't matter to you, all you saw was black and white and you made sure of that.
Sam looked up to you, as you closed the car bonnet. The silence made the air thicker than it was, the Kryptonian trying to relieve the tension. She asked the long wanted question, after pulling different theories as you worked “What happened to you?”
The air became heavier, the coldness of the night became the only thing you could feel, the sound of the car running evaded your ears, the blood falling from your hands made you feel like you were under the rain, the taste of beer on your tongue became toxic. All of your senses were going into overwork.
The Russian voice of the man pulled you out of your thoughts. Sam watched attentively from her seat, with complete anxiety. “Good evening, Принцесса”
“Не сейчас, Anatoly” You responded, grabbing the white towel at the side of your tools before removing the blood from your hands. Only to wince of pain, when you felt the cut touch the towel, noticing the damage you had done.
Ignoring your pain, you looked over to Sam seeing her eyeing you and the Russian man confused. Before deeply sighing, making Anatoly walk over the brunette extending his hand with a smile, making you roll your eyes “My apologizes, I didn't know my friend...”
“Work partner” You interrupted holding out your finger threadedly, making the suited man chuckled, while Sam became more worried and confused by the second.
Anatoly claimed as he pulled his hand away, with a smile. Before looking over at you with a questionable glance. “Had any visitors over, Anatoly Knyazev at your service”
“Samantha Arias, nice to meet you” The Arias woman nodded in gratitude before speaking.
Sam turned to face you as she noticed your blood on the now stained white towel, and your hand flinching every moment the towel made contact with the wounds. Worries came crashing to her, as she came closer to you, only to make you back away.
The Russian man seemed to notice and to diffuse the tension between the two of you, he grabbed his suit sleeves before speaking in a work mannerly. “Принцесса, may I talk to you for a moment?”
“Yeah, I will be back in a minute, Ms. Arias” You claimed and didn't even wait for an answer walking over to Anatoly who was on the phone, waiting for you with his hand crossed over the chest.
The Russian man said, looking at you. Furrowing his eyebrows in a questionable glance as he glanced at the brown-eyed woman and you multiple times, making you shook your head and sigh in annoyance “Мы получили встречу с возможным партнером организации в мероприятии в Старлинг-Сити”
Massaging your temple with doubt you responded, pointing at the door with a serious look as he looked at you with a small smirk. “Хорошо”
Waiting for the old man to exit the garage, as he walked over to the brunette giving her a goodbye. In irritation you sighed before walking over to the brunette giving her the keys of the car, mentioning. “Everything is done”
“Okay, thanks,” Sam responded nodding immediately, taking out her card from her purse to pay, only to be stopped by you.
You claimed, and before she could protest you pulled the car out of the garage. “I only receive cash, if you don't have then it doesn't matter”
The Arias woman smiled quietly, as she felt a part of you from the past come out, but frowned immediately as she saw closely your palms, with the recent cuts of your digging nails. And moving up your handsome scars are more visible than others on your wrist.
The moment you notice her stared in your cuts and scars you cleared your throat in annoyance, Sam noticed your tension and got into the car without any other word, starting the engine before looking back at you with a worried face. So many things had changed now, and she had no idea how she was gonna deal with that.
The night was young. The lights of the city were on as the people. The sound of the music coming from each club invaded your ears. The soft smell of alcohol and cigarettes overwhelmed the streets.
Bars and restaurants open in the streets, which only could be lightened up by the brighten by the open places. Couples and Groups walking down the streets finding a place to spend their Saturday night.
Watching from the window of the black car, you were seated waiting for the arrival to the event. Guns and knives under your dress, prepared for any occasion. Not a single feeling coming out of your chest or mind, the blank and void expression on your face as the journey came to an end.
Anatoly was seated beside you, looking outside in silence. The Russian man, checking with the line of security inside the car. With a smile on his face, and a joking tone he turned to you “So what are your plans for the evening, Принцесса?”
You furrowed your eyes, before rolling them in irritation. Giving him a fake smile and a threatened index finger as a response. He chuckled before getting out of the car, making you sighed and abruptly say “Let’s get over with this”
Getting out of the car, you were met with a dark alley and Anatoly waiting for you with a hand in his pocket. You examined your surroundings, seeing various bars and restaurants close, and warehouses on each side. The street was dark and there weren't any people walking around it. You turned around to see the Star city water tower.
Entering the bright and elegant warehouse, you furrowed your eyes at the preparation of the place. Tall tables in the crowds of people, and a close fighting arena in the middle of the warehouse. Some bodyguards followed their bosses and others standing near them. No more than sixty people discussing bets. At the other side of the entrance a small stage was situated, where a woman and 5 bodyguards waited for someone.
You moved through the crowd slowly, walking with Anatoly at your side getting looks from people. Women and men glanced at you as you did. Your hair was down with some waves, a black long sleeve dress that fits you perfectly and a few inches long heels clicked as you walked to the stage, where the possible business partner stood. Your abs could be seen if you looked closely, and you biceps were showing even though you weren't flexing.
Your gut clenched when you felt a familiar started but you couldn't say how familiar it was. Your mind went into an auto mode as you kept walking. Something told you the night wasn't going to be so pleasant. And the moment you stepped onto the stage and recognized the woman made your assumptions true.
Veronica Sinclair, or best known as Roulette stood in a red dress that showed her tattoos, with a smirk as she eyed you and Anatoly. Clenching your jaw in her presence as self-restraint, the woman notice and spoke up with a sarcastic smile. "Weren't you the Danvers girl who dated Lena, but she chooses your sister over you”
“And weren’t you the girl, who didn't fuck Lena good enough, so she had to leave for a man, a British man” Anger moving through your system, and your mind clouded of the irritation you had. You clenched your jaw and your fits, before claiming as you walked closer to her with a sarcastic smile only to be stopped by a hand on your shoulder.
“We are going to get a drink, Roulette and then we can discuss what we came for,” Anatoly said, before dragging you out of the conversation. As he saw the both of you getting threatening close, your hand on top of your gun and her hand up, waiting to sign her bodyguards.
You grabbed a cup of the champagne the waiters were giving and took it all in less than a minute before putting it back giving the waiter draggers as you spoke “Bring me wine”
The young guy nodded vigorously before walking away almost running. You rolled your eyes before tapping on the table. Making Anatoly look up to you with a frown as you spoke. “Anatoly, let me do my job, while you do yours”
“You can't Принцесса, to grow as a business, we need her” He spoke softly looking around the crowd.
You scoffed before beginning to walk away, getting your gun from your thigh. Looking around searching for the bitch, only to not find her. "Great, then I kill her and you take over, capiche?”
Before you could walk back into the stage, people started to whistle as two people came into the ring. You looked over to the table you stood and Anatoly gathered another drink with a smirk as you frowned abruptly walking to the booth. Before commenting “Seems like time is not in your favor, Принцесса”
The sweat smell of the men fighting irritated you. The time the fight had taken, annoyed you. The lights of the place started to not function properly. People kept yelling bets, whistles, and more and it overwhelmed you.
The feeling of irradiance started to take over you, creating a headache. Taking your and Anatoly's drink as a remedy only made it worse. Your annoyance increased when the Russian man wandered off to an associate leaving behind. Grabbing three waiters as you threaten them into giving you their drinks tray.
Now with a clouded mind and a bad gut feeling, you walked to the stage where Roulette stood only to be stopped by the lights going off, and way too many familiar voices speaking.
“You have failed this city!” Oliver iconic, now tiring line
Kara said as she flew over all of the criminals “Why do you guys do this, knowing we are going to stop you?”
You felt the lights hit you stronger than ever when they were turned on again. Taking out both of your guns as quickly as you could, walking over to the tattooed woman standing with a smirk looking at your sister.
Before you started to shoot in hopes of taking down her bodyguard, but when it only took 4 of them leaving one. You started to fight him, mostly defending and waiting for him to make a mistake, at the third punch he tried to give, you grabbed his arm and flipping him to the floor before shooting him without hesitation.
Looking up to see Sinclair smirking at you with a gun in her hand, you tried to cover in one of the tables as she kept firing at you. When both of your sisters called her name and you thought you had your chance. Rushing out of it holding both of the guns in your hand, trying to locate her. You felt a pinch in your back.
The tranquilizer began to put your head more out of place than it already was. Losing consciousness as you tried to get the small arrow out of your back, you looked up to see Roulette smirking at you.
The sound of the firing gun invaded your ears. And the pain began to flow in when the bullet opened your skin in your stomach. Putting your hand over the now open scar and the bullet you felt as the pain began to flow in and blood to flow out, as it wetted your hands. Losing consciousness, when you felt the coughing began and the red fluid came out of your mouth.
Pain invaded your system and began to take over. Your hearing began to buzz. The smell of alcohol and fire began to overwhelm your nose. You tried to put pressure over the wound only to not feel a wound at all. Your vision began to blurry and everything began to fade away slowly, the only thing that remained was the pain.
The pain was eternal, the pain was there to stay. And the universe has taught you that. It was never going to stop for you and knowing that you lost yourself in the darkness once more.
#lena luthor#lena luthor x reader#alex danvers x reader#kara danvers x reader#supergirl imagine#baby danvers
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apricity pt. three
apricity - the warmth of the sun in winter
warnings: angst, vomit mention, violence
pairing: bucky barnes x female oc
word count: 4,200
A/N: this is a bit of a filler chapter yet still very important! I did have to use google translate for the Russian, so if it is incorrect, please let me know and I'm very sorry if it is! Thank you 💕
MASTERLIST
“Я ��отов отвечить.” ( Ready to comply.)
The December air was cold as it blew through Florence’s hair, her arms circling Bucky’s waist as they rode down the dark road on Bucky’s motorcycle. The soldier steered with one arm, free hand coming down to rub circles on the redhead’s calf as they pulled behind a cluster of trees, hiding them from onlookers as they waited. The pair of assassins were unthawed and reset only hours ago, immediately given their latest mission.
A car came into view, red tail lights illuminating the air around them. Bucky flipped the bike’s headlight on and pulled onto the road again. The soldier revved the bike, catching up to the side of the vehicle as Florence sunk her butterfly knife into the tire, causing the car to swerve off the road and crash into a building.
Bucky parked the bike ahead of the crash, Florence stepping off the bike, Bucky behind her, and approaching the car. She flipped open the trunk to reveal a large silver briefcase, opening it to see five bags of blue liquid; exactly what they were looking for.
This was the last mission the Winter Soldier and the Winter Widow would ever go on.
Florence bolted up in the cheap hotel bed, Bucky’s screams reverbing in her brain. HYDRA always made her watch when Bucky was reprogrammed, a way to keep Florence in line and remind her who she was; just a puppet.
The last mission was always a common nightmare in the rotation of dreams Florence had, continuously taunting her. She disappeared only two weeks after it, abandoning everything she had grown accustomed to and the only person she had ever loved.
Florence couldn't go back to sleep, instead deciding on making herself coffee, the microwave clock mocking her, 4:34 a.m. She sipped her coffee slowly at the small kitchenette table, patiently waiting to start her day as she watched the clock tick away until it became 6:30 a.m., a reasonable enough hour to be awake for Steve to not worry.
~
The team was in Lagos, following a lead on Brock Rumlow, who had been causing quite the headache in the past few months, this time his target was deadly weapons from the Institute For Infectious Diseases.
Florence and Natasha sat across from each other listening to Steve and Wanda Maximoff converse about their surroundings through their earpieces, doing their best to remain anonymous and still get the intel under the hot noon sun.
“You see that Range Rover halfway up the block?” Steve asked Wanda as she fiddled with the sugar packet in her hand.
“Yeah, the red one? It’s cute.”
“It’s also bulletproof, which means private security, which means more guns...which means more headaches for somebody. Probably us.” Florence smirked at Natasha’s response as she took a sip of her coffee, savoring the caffeine.
Wanda chirped back through her radio, ‘You guys know I can move things with my mind, right?”
Florence glanced at Wanda across the cafe, “Looking over your shoulder needs to become second nature.”
Sam’s voice floated through their earpieces from the rooftop above, “Anybody ever told you two you’re a little paranoid?”
The two redheads shared a knowing look with small smirks adorning their faces, “Not to either of our faces. Why? Did you hear something?” Florence’s tone was light, but both she and Natasha knew the darkness behind it; the Red Room made them that way.
Steve, ever the serious man, refocused the small group, “Eyes on target, folks. This is the best lead we’ve had on Rumlow in six months. I don’t want to lose him.”
Sam scoffed in the mic, “If he sees us coming, that won’t be a problem. He kind of hates us.”
There was a pause in time before Steve spoke, “Sam, see that garbage truck? Tag it.” Sam deployed Redwing, giving Sam and the team the information they needed, “That truck’s loaded for max weight. And the driver’s armed.”
Natasha glanced at Florence, the pair not too thrilled to be dealing with this particular situation, “It’s a battering ram.”
“Go now.”
Wanda questioned Steve into her mic, the tension had just risen significantly.
“He’s not hitting the police.”
The team scattered, Steve, Wanda, and Sam going after Rumlow while Florence and Natasha were both on motorcycles racing down the street.
“Rumlow has a biological weapon.”
Natasha revved her bike, “I’m on it.” The redhead purposely crashed her bike, flinging it into an armed guard. Florence ditched her bike, joining Natasha in the fight.
A guard swung at Florence, missing his target as she ducked and swept his feet from underneath the attacker. Natasha took down two more guards while Florence took down three more, tossing the last guard on the ground like a sack of potatoes.
Florence and Natasha were attacked by Rumlow, neither of the two women able to effectively take him down. The two were shoved into a tank, Rumlow dropping a bomb in before latching the door closed. They surveyed their surroundings quickly; two guards with guns aiming at them. Florence kicked one unconscious while Natasha grabbed the other guard and used him as a human shield when the grenade exploded, grabbing Florence on the way down.
Black smoke filled the air, the smell of fire making it hard to breathe, sending the pair of assassins into a coughing fit on the ground. Looking up, they could see Steve being blown back into the building by an explosion, their ears ringing from the volume. Steve sent Sam after Rumlow, who was in an AFV heading north.
Natasha relocated the ditched bike and got on, pulling Florence behind her. The younger assassin revved the bike as they entered the street, Florence holding onto her.
Sam called out the offenders, clocking four of them splitting up.
Natasha stopped the bike and looked at Florence before splitting up, “I got the two on the left, you take the right.”
Florence sprinted down the busy street, dodging and weaving the crowd. Her targets came into view ahead of her, the girl sent a throwing star their way, effectively knocking him to the ground with no way to run. The girl grabbed the man, searching the bag furiously, trying to locate the weapon, “It’s not here!” Sam replied back, not having the weapon either.
Natasha called over the mic, “I have it.” Florence sighed in relief, moving to meet back up with the team.
She came upon Steve, who had Rumlow on the ground in front of him. She approached the scene cautiously, listening to the exchange.
“You know, he knew you and that redhead, Florence. Your pal, your buddy, your Bucky.” Rumlow whispered tauntingly at Steve.
Florence approached from behind, grabbing Rumlow’s hair and yanking him back, putting a knife to his throat, “What did you say?” The flip switched in Florence’s brain at the mention of Bucky, nothing else mattering anymore. She didn’t care that people were probably filming her with a knife to someone’s throat, and Steve made no move to stop her.
The disfigured man laughed as the knife dug deeper against his neck, staring up at Florence, “He remembered you. I was there. He got all weepy about it. Always screaming about you.” He then looked at Steve, “Till they put his brain back in a blender. He wanted you to know something. He said to me, ‘Please tell Rogers. When you gotta go, you gotta go.’ And you’re coming with me.” Rumlow’s thumb pressed a detonation device, Florence and Steve noticing it at the same time.
Wanda was behind them, containing the explosion of fire with her powers, keeping Steve and Florence from becoming red mist. The newest member sent Rumlow up and into the building in front of them. The building went up in flames, the leftover gasses from Rumlow’s bombs reacting to the fire and exploding. The bystanders screamed and ran as Wanda looked on in horror at what she had just done, hand clamping over her face.
Florence gently guided the girl away from the scene, “Hey, come one. We have to go, this isn’t on you, okay?”
Behind them, Steve called for Sam to request Fire & Rescue before he took off to go save people from the building, leaving Florence to console the distraught brunette.
A month later, the team was back at the Avengers Compound, Florence sitting with Steve as they watched the news.
“Eleven Wakandans were among those killed during a confrontation between the Avengers and a group of mercenaries in Lagos, Nigeria last month. The traditionally reclusive Wakandans were on an outreach mission in Lagos, when the attack occurred.”
The TV switched to show King T’Chacka of Wakanda’s speech:
“Our people’s blood is spilled on foreign soil, not only because of the actions of criminals, ut by the indifference of those pledged to stop them. Victory at the expense of the innocent is no victory at all.”
Steve turned the TV off, the only other sound in the compound coming from Wanda’s TV in her room. Florence got up to go speak to the girl before Steve stopped her, “I’ll go.” Steve and Wanda were taking the Lagos incident the hardest, both blaming themselves. The mention of Bucky had made both Florence and Steve freeze until it was too late, leaving Wanda to deal with the bomb that now plagues her consciousness. Florence watched as Steve walked off until he wasn’t visible anymore for her to turn on her heel to head to the kitchen.
The redhead was in dire need of coffee, the cup she had that morning had worn off. The nightmares amplified after Rumlow’s supposed confession about Bucky, the girl had hardly slept more than two hours a night. When she did sleep it was restless, nightmares of Bucky haunting every corner of her mind. She managed to make it through half her mug before she was called downstairs for a meeting with Tony and the Secretary of State.
Secretary Ross sighed heavily as he stood at the head of the table of Avengers as he mimicked his golf swing, “Five years ago, I had a heart attack and dropped right in the middle of my backswing. Turned out it was the best round of my life because after 13 hours of surgery and a triple bypass, I found something 40 years in the Army had never taught me. Perspective. The world owes the Avengers an unpayable debt. You have fought for us, protected us, risked your lives, but while a great many people see you as heroes, there are some who would prefer the word ‘vigilantes’.”
Next to Florence, Natasha spoke with a smirk adorning her face, “What word would you use, Mr. Secretary?”
Secretary Ross looked up from the table, “How about ‘dangerous’? What would you call a group of US-based, enhanced individuals who routinely ignore sovereign borders and inflict their will wherever they choose and who, frankly, seem unconcerned about what they leave behind?”
Ross stepped aside from the table, allowing the full view to be on the screen in front of the table, showing various clips of incidents the Avengers were involved in. Everyone at the table grimaced at the screen, not proud of what it was showing. Ross flipped through events of New York, Washington D.C., Sokavia and Lagos before Steve had enough, noting Wanda’s demeanor change and telling Ross to turn it off.
“For the past four years, you’ve operated with unlimited power and no supervision. That’s an arrangement the governments of the world can no longer tolerate. But I think we have a solution.” Ross paused, placing a large file on the table in front of Wanda who passed it on to Rhodey, “The Sokovia Accords. Approved by 117 countries, it states that the Avengers shall no longer be a private organization. Instead, they’ll operate under the supervision of a United Nations panel only when and if that panel deems it necessary.”
Steve spoke from the end of the table, “The Avengers were formed to make the world a safer place. I feel we’ve done that.”
Ross looked down at Steve, “Tell me, Captain, do you know where Thor and Banner are right now? If I misplaced a couple of 30 megaton nukes, you can bet there’d be consequences. Compromise. Reassurance. That’s how the world works. Believe me, this is the middle ground.”
Rhodey gestured to the accords “So, there are contingencies.”
Ross shrugged, “Three days from now, the UN meets in Vienna to ratify the Accords. Talk it over.”
Ross began to leave until Natasha stopped him, “And if we come to a decision you don’t like?”
“Then you retire.” Ross left after that, leaving the team to discuss.
The team was arguing amongst themselves as Florence stared at the ceiling with her feet on the table, listening to various points being made while Rhodey and Sam debated behind Steve while Tony rolled his eyes.
“Secretary Ross has a Congressional Medal of Honor, which is one more than you have.”
Sam crossed his arms over his chest, “So let’s say we agree to this thing. How long is it gonna be before they LoJack us like a bunch of common criminals?”
“117 countries want to sign this. 117, Sam, and you’re just like, ‘No, that’s cool. We got it.’”
Sam cut Rhodey off, “How long are you going to play both sides?”
Vision interrupted from his spot on the couch next to Wanda, “I have an equation.”
Sam moved to stand behind Florence, his voice dripping in sarcasm, “Oh, this will clear it up.”
Vision continued, “In the eight years since Mr. Stark announced himself as Iron Man, the number of known enhanced persons has grown exponentially. During the same period, the number of potentially world-ending events has risen at a commensurate rate.”
“Are you saying it’s our fault?” Steve spoke with the Accords in hand.
“I’m saying there may be a causality. Our very strength invited challenge. Challenge incites conflict. And conflict,” Vision paused, “breeds catastrophe. Oversight, oversight is not an idea that can be dismissed out of hand.”
Rhodey looked to Sam, “Boom.”
Natasha spoke from her spot at the table, “Tony, you are being uncharacteristically non-hyperverbal.” Tony rolled his eyes exaggeratedly.
“It’s because he’s already made up his mind.”
Tony grumbled at Steve’s statement, “Boy, you know me so well.” Tony rose from the couch, cradling his head as he walked over to the kitchen, “Actually, I’m nursing an electromagnetic headache. That’s what’s going on, Cap. It’s just pain. It’s discomfort.” Tony grabbed a coffee mug, looking into the sink, “Who’s putting coffee grounds in the disposal?”
Natasha looked at Florence with a knowing look about her coffee-sleep- problem while Tony continued complaining behind them, “Am I running a bed and breakfast for a biker gang?”
Tony placed his phone in the fruit basket, a small hologram emitting from it of a young man, “Oh, that’s Charles Spencer, by the way. He’s a great kid. Computer engineering degree, 3.6 GPA, had a floor-level gig at Intel planned for the fall. But first, he wanted to put a few miles on his soul, before he parked it behind a desk, See the world. Maybe be of service. Charlie didn’t want to go to Vegas or Fort Lauderdale, which is what I would do. He didn’t go to Paris or Amsterdam, which sounds fun. He decided to spend his summer building sustainable housing for the poor. Guess where. Sokovia.” Tony paused, allowing the words to sink in painfully, “He wanted to make a difference, I suppose. We won’t know because we dropped a building on him while we were kicking ass. There’s no decision-making process here. We need to be put in check! Whatever form that takes, I’m game. If we can’t accept limitations, if we’re boundary-less, we’re no better than the bad guys.”
Steve began speaking, “Tony, someone dies on your watch, you don’t give up.”
“Who said we’re giving up?”
“We are if we’re not taking responsibility for our actions. This document just shifts the blame.”
Rhodey speaks up, pointing at Steve, “I’m sorry, Steve. This is dangerously arrogant. This is the United Nations we’re talking about. It’s not the World Security Council, it’s not S.H.I.E.L.D., it’s not HYDRA.”
Florence practically flinched at Rhodey’s mention of HYDRA as Steve cut him off, “No, but it’s run by people with agendas, and agendas change.”
Tony walked towards the group, “That’s good. That’s why I’m here. When I realized what my weapons were capable of in the wrong hands, I shut it down and stopped manufacturing.”
Steve interrupted, “Tony, you chose to do that. If we sign this, we surrender our right to choose. What if this panel sends us somewhere we don’t think we should go? What if there’s somewhere we need to go and they don’t let us? We may not be perfect, but the safest hands are still our own.” The team all shared looks, silently gauging their stances.
Tony looked down at Steve, “If we don’t do this now, it’s gonna be done to us later. That’s the fact. That won’t be pretty.”
Wanda, who had been silent the entire meeting, spoke from her seat next to Vision, “You’re saying they’ll come for me.”
Vision spoke beside her, “We would protect you.”
“Maybe Tony’s right,” All eyes darted to Natasha, “If we have one hand on the wheel, we can still steer. If we take it off-”
Sam cut her off, “Aren’t you the same woman who told the government to kiss her ass a few years ago?”
“I’m just reading the terrain. We have made some very public mistakes. We need to win their trust back.” Florence was slightly shocked at Natasha’s statement. She had assumed that she wouldn’t be signing, not wanting to walk back into a potential puppet situation.
Tony leaned against his chair, looking at Natasha baffled, “Focus up. I’m sorry. Did I just mishear you or did you agree with me?”
Natasha shook her head, “I want to take it back now.”
“No, no, no, you can’t retract it. Thank you. Unprecedented. Okay. Case closed. I win.”
Florence noticed Steve’s phone buzzing, watching his face fall as he read the notification, “I have to go.” The team watched as Steve bolted out of the room.
Days later, Florence was seated between Steve and Sam as they attended Peggy Carter’s funeral in London. The girl was never close to Peggy in the ’40s, she only spoke to her briefly, but Florence knew Steve would need support. The trio watched from the pew as Sharon Carter, Peggy’s niece and an ex S.H.I.E.L.D agent, spoke about her aunt. Sharon had grown to be a friend and an ally to the team, helping them out during the Battle of Triskelion.
The funeral ended quickly, Florence standing outside with Sam while Steve remained in the chapel. A familiar redhead passed by, Florence grabbing Natasha’s arm gently, “Nat? What are you doing here?”
“I came to see Steve, then I’m off to Vienna to sign the Accords.”
Florence furrowed her brows, “You’re signing it? Who else signed?”
Natasha shrugged, “Yeah, it’s what seems right. Tony, Rhodey and Vision have signed. Clint says he’s retired and Wanda is TBD. You?”
“I can’t.” Florence wanted to but was immensely torn. She didn’t see a way to function properly under the Accords, and her best bet was to not sign, much to Natasha’s dismay. Florence remained paranoid after the Red Room and HYDRA, even more so than the redhead in front of her. She wanted it to be easy, to sign the Accords without any second thoughts, but she couldn’t bring herself to do it.
Natasha smiled softly at her friend, “I figured. But there’s room on the jet if you change your mind.”
“Thanks, Nat, but I’ll pass. Go see Steve.” The two girls hugged briefly, Natasha pulling away and entering the chapel.
Hours later, both Sam and Florence’s phone vibrated, alerting a notification, the pair taking out their devices and reading ‘UNITED NATIONS COMPLEX BOMBED’
The two looked up from their phones in fear, immediately on the hunt to find Steve.
They found him in the lobby of Sharon’s hotel, having walked her back after Natasha left hours ago. Sam stopped in front of him, “Steve, there’s something you need to see.”
The trio stood in front of the TV of their shared hotel room as the news anchor spoke, “A bomb hidden in news van ripped through the UN building in Vienna.”
Sharon paced behind them while she was on the phone.
“More than 70 people have been injured. At least 12 are dead, including Wakanda’s King T’Chaka. Officials have released a video of a suspect, who they have identified as James Buchanan Barnes, the Winter Soldier. The infamous HYDRA agent linked to numerous acts of terrorism and political assassinations.”
The screen played a clip of the alleged suspect, Bucky, and Florence felt like she was going to be sick. Her stomach dropped and she could feel Sam’s gaze on her. It couldn’t be him. It couldn’t be him. It couldn’t be him.
Sharon interrupted Steve and Florence’s internal spiral, “I have to go to work.”
Florence remained in front of the TV, trying to talk herself out of believing that Bucky would do this. He would have been acting alone. He wouldn’t have done this, this wasn’t the man she knew. She knew he was out of HYDRA’s clutches and was on his own, it couldn’t be him.
Steve grabbed her wrist gently, turning her away from the TV, “We have to go to Vienna, come on.”
Florence and Steve made it to Vienna along with Sam, both leaning against a tree with hats and sunglasses in an attempt to remain unknown. Steve pulled out his phone, dialing Natasha’s number. Florence ignored their conversation as she stared emotionless at the ground. The air was still heavy with smoke from the bombing as Steve spotted Natasha a few yards away, her ignorant to the fact that Steve and Florence were here.
After Steve hung up, Florence’s phone began to ring, Natasha’s contact lighting up the screen. She shared a look with Steve before answering, “Hey.”
Natasha wasted no time getting to the point, “Look, I know how much Barnes means to you, trust me I get it, but don’t do anything stupid. You need to stay home and regroup.”
Florence sighed into the phone, “Nat, you know I can’t do that.” Florence ended the call before Natasha could respond, quickly pocketing the phone in her black jacket and walking away.
Florence and Steve entered a restaurant, quickly spotting Sam at the bar.
Sam placed his food down, “She tell you to stay out of it?” Steve and Florence’s silence was answer enough for Sam, “Might have a point.”
Steve pursed his lips, “He’d do it for me.”
“1945, maybe.” Florence glared at Sam through her glasses as he continued speaking, “I just want to make sure we consider all our options. The people that shoot at you two usually end up shooting at me.”
Sam didn’t know him. Steve didn’t know the ‘new’ him. Out of the two, she had known Bucky the longest, loving him through the good and the bad. Even when he was the darkest parts of the Winter Soldier, Florence still held love for him in her heart because she knew what HYDRA made him into. And when Florence’s reflection was unfamiliar to herself, whether she was covered in someone else’s blood or she had been reprogrammed, Bucky kept her from falling apart in the Red Room. It couldn’t be him.
Sharon made her way up the bar, standing next to Steve as she updated the group, “Tips have been pouring in since that footage went public. Everybody thinks the Winter Soldier goes to their gym. Most of its noise.” Sharon slid a file over to Steve, “Except for this. My boss expects a briefing, pretty much now, so that’s all the head start you’re gonna get.”
Florence thanked Sharon as she left to leave, “You’re all gonna have to hurry. We have orders to shoot on sight.” Again, the feeling of bile worked its way up Florence’s throat, forcing herself to choke it down. Her hands shook at her sides as she took in Sharon’s words. She wouldn’t let that happen, even if it ended up killing her. She was going to save him.
Steve read over the file quickly, Sam and Florence looking at him expectantly, ”He’s in Romania.”
The location shouldn’t have shocked Florence as much as it did. A lot happened in Romania between herself and Bucky, she shouldn’t be surprised he went there. He probably didn’t even realize why he went to Bucharest, the action must have felt familiar. She should have began their search there two years ago, Florence was angry with herself for missing such an important place to them both. And God, did Romania have painful roots in the soldiers’ and widows’ lives.
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Yasha finding out about what really is going on behind the scenes with the A.O.I (Angel of Irons) Organization. Break my heart please.
Part 13 of ???
Read 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 6 - 7 - 8 - 9 - 10 - 11 - 12
Dairon doesn’t get the full story until lunch time rolls around.
Caduceus, Veth and Marion whip out a full three course meal in the span of one hour, and Dairon has finally the chance to see the last room of the base.
They limp towards the kitchen, ignoring Beau’s offers to help, and crash on the nearest chair, taking a good look around.
It’s a poorly lit, big room, with stoves, fridge and countertop across the opposite wall from one of the two doors. Dairon sees Veth disappear behind another, and they make a note of exploring it later. In the middle of the room, a long table is already filled with silverware, food and drinks. It can host up to fifteen people, but the Nein plus Marion crowd the side where Dairon is already sitting.
Marion meets their eyes and Dairon averts their gaze, barely suppressing a smile.
The woman takes a seat next to them, and Dairon gets immediately kicked in the shin. When they look up at her, Marion is looking straight ahead with a smirk on her face.
This woman.
***
They devour the food in silence, everyone too absorbed in their own plate, still too exhausted and recovering from last night to dare speaking.
Dairon themselves barely looks up from the delicious meal, too famished to partake in even the smallest of conversations.
Only when every dish is cleared and Caduceus is readying the kettle, Dairon sits back.
“So. Does anyone want to explain?” they ask.
The Nein look around the table, exchanging a series of glances. Jester clears her voice.
“Remember the A of I?”
Dairon nods, but next to them, Marion shakes her head.
“Not going to lie,” Dairon adds then. “I can use a refresher on what you guys did. I only remember it involved Yasha and then, of course, all of you.”
They all nod, the mood suddenly very dark.
Marion reaches for Dairon’s hand from under the table, and Dairon can’t negate that request. Their fingers intertwine.
Above the table, though, Beau is doing the same with Yasha. Their hands join, and Beau looks at her wife and her wife only. Yasha smiles at her and nods. She thanks softly Caduceus as he places a steaming mug in front of her, then takes a deep breath.
As Caduceus gives a cup to everyone, Yasha starts recounting.
Yasha sticks her head around the corner, making sure that nobody is present. It’s not like she’s never been down in the basement, but it’s also not one of her favorite places, and it’s most certainly somewhere she should be without a specific order. She is ready to lie, of course, but she would really rather she didn’t have to.
She is a terrible liar after all.
Obann doesn’t keep her around for her charisma, that is for sure.
Yasha rounds the corner, hand near the leg holster, ready to whip out her weapon at any suspicious movement.
Luckily for her, the hallways seem to be empty.
She can’t hear a single sound coming from either direction, so she keeps walking, and finally uses the key she’s borrowed from one of the others to open the door of the record room.
She sneaks inside, locking the door behind her and turning the light on.
The neon lights come to life with a buzz, illuminating the rows of shelves with a sick green ray.
She roams around them for a few minutes, trying to find a sign that tells her where the files starting with N are.
Finally, she notices a very faint labeling system at the bottom of each row, and then it’s a matter of minutes before she finds a bow with NT-NZ scribbled on the front.
She extracts the box, hesitating for just a moment.
She shouldn’t be here.
She should be upstairs, where Obann and the others are resting, or getting ready and trained for the next mission. Not down here. Not sneaking around like a criminal, looking over files that could-
Files that could either confirm that Beauregard Lionett is indeed the enemy or that could instead destroy every single certainty she’s had of her adult life.
Yasha bites her lower lip.
Because one thing is unfortunately very true.
She doesn’t remember her childhood. At all. She remembers coming to terms with a sort of amnesia, a result of having hit her head too hard during training, or during a mission, but that is pretty much it.
Obann has told her she is being with the Angels of Iron since birth, where she has being trained and educated, loved and cared for. And Yasha has never really questioned anything. She simply does what Obann tells her to do, and although sometimes some mission is not exactly her cup of tea, Obann has always been very clear and reassuring in telling her that they’re doing it for the best of causes.
But Yasha isn’t as dense as her companions believe her to be.
And Beau.
Because there is Beau.
Beautiful, strong, smart Beauregard Lionett.
A CIA Agent.
And Yasha isn’t well versed in American politics or whatever, but she’s pretty sure the CIA is supposed to be the good guys. Or something like that. But Obann hates them. Obann has told her to eliminate any CIA threat on sight.
Yasha doesn’t understand.
Because Beau has talked to her. They’ve talked a lot, actually. And Beau has told her that the Angels of Iron are not, in fact, good. Quite the opposite, really.
And Beau... Beau has kissed her. Beau has looked at her in a way that Yasha only remembers being looked at once, although the details are still blurry.
There’s a woman, a young girl, in her past, that Yasha doesn’t remember. She has a name, but she can’t remember a face. Zuala, the name is. She’s asked Obann about her, but he’s just shrugged and told her to move on.
And Yasha had.
But now she can’t.
Not anymore.
Because Beau has pushed her away from danger, Beau has almost gotten a bullet for her, no longer than a week ago, and Yasha can’t stand the idea of not knowing anymore.
So she places the box on the ground, sits cross legged on the cold concrete floor and finds her file.
Nydoorin, Yasha.
It’s a thick one.
Yasha takes a deep breath, then opens it.
The first page is a birth certificate, in Russian. Born in Novosibirsk, Siberia from [REDACTED] Nydoorin and [REDACTED] Nydoorin. Yasha blinks. She presses a finger on the black rectangular lines, where her parents names have been erased, possibly forever.
Swallowing a lump of tears and bile, Yasha flips the page. It a report, once again with several sections erased, with the Angels of Iron’s letterhead.
Yasha skims through the document, of several pages, noticing how entire sections seem to have been cancelled off.
“The child is above average. The vitals are [REDACTED]. The child appears to be healthy enough for the project. [REDACTED] and [REDACTED] Nydoorin have refused to sign the child off to the organization. [REDACTED] might be necessary.”
“Obtainment of the child is an asset.”
“Approval from [REDACTED] has been received.”
“Proceed with obtainment.”
Yasha remembers witnessing a car crash, one day, a few years back. She remembers how horrible it had been, to see the bodies burn and the people scream without being able to do anything to help them.
It’s exactly how she feels now.
She wants to close everything and run, but she can’t stop reading.
She flips another page, and a set of pictures clipped to a paper appear in front of her.
One is a picture of two adults, a man and a woman, smiling in a hospital room with a newborn baby in their arms. The woman has gentle features, gentle eyes, big hands, large shoulders and long, wavy hair. The man is very tall, with an athletic build, and a nose that Yasha sees in the mirror every day.
The baby is asleep, a small fist curled and closed on her mother’s thumb.
They look peaceful. Happy.
A tear falls on the picture, and Yasha wipes it away slowly, hesitating with her finger on the shape of her father’s face.
She forces herself to move on and look at the other pictures.
A child, with long, dark black hair collected into a braid, stands next to two more girls, one of them with red hair, the other with dark brown ones. Three year old Yasha’s eyes are focused. Her little body is not all that little, compared to the two other children, standing tall above them.
They all seem to be wearing the same uniform.
Other pictures show Yasha’s growth, in that same uniform, and picture her fighting other girls, training in both hand to hand and weapon combat.
The reports the pictures are attached to talk about her.
“Agent Y is skilled.”
“Agent Y mastered the course.”
“Agent Y is fit and ready for combat.”
Yasha keeps going through pictures and files, and every report she reads confirms her suspicions, confirms what Beau has told her about the Angels of Iron.
She starts to see a recurring pattern.
A woman, next to her or behind her or in front of her. A woman with gentle eyes, dark hair and a shit eating grin. Yasha knows immediately who this girl is. As she goes back to the first picture, she recognizes her as one of the two other toddlers in uniform.
“Zuala...” Yasha whispers.
Yasha reads everything once more, looking for signs. And she finds them.
“Agent Y and Agent Z work well together.”
“Agent Z has punched another Agent who was making fun of Agent Y. Investigation required.”
“Agent Y and Agent Z have been found within Agent Y’s quarters, in a compromising situation.”
“Agent Y is a precious asset. Agent Z has been removed from the project.”
Attached to that one file, a single picture.
A black bag, with a dark skinned arm poking out of it. In the background, Yasha sees herself, spine ramrod straight, no emotion on her face.
Yasha stares at the picture, and presses a palm against her mouth, to prevent...
To prevent her to scream, or to puke, or both. She’s not exactly sure.
She stares and stares, and details form back into her memory. Details of Zuala. Of nights together. Of days together. They’re blurred and they’re vague, but they’re memories.
She exhales, trying to swallow a surge of vomit into her throat, and flips the page. It’s a medical report.
She skims through it almost in a haze.
An injection. A cocktail of drugs. An experiment.
Memories being wiped.
A new life. A new Agent. A new Yasha.
More obedient, now that she doesn’t remember. More loyal, now that she has being cleared of distractions.
The last page is a picture in colors.
It’s recent, way too recent. Yasha remembers this one.
It’s herself, her recent self. And next to her, staring with adoring eyes...
“Beauregard...”
Underneath, a few words.
“Possible distraction. Liability. Kill on sight.”
Yasha slams the folder close.
Tears have dried on her face, but it doesn’t matter. She might not know everything, but she knows enough.
It’s time to go.
Silence falls into the kitchen.
The Mighty Nein are all looking down into their mugs, pensive expressions on their faces. They all know the story.
Beauregard’s hand is still on Yasha’s, and her free one is clenched onto a fist. She hasn’t looked away from Yasha’s face for a single moment during the whole story.
Dairon can see the same rage, the same horror they feel, reflected on their kid’s face.
Marion’s hand has been squeezing theirs painfully for the whole duration, and when Dairon turns to look at the woman, they see tears streaming down her perfect face.
“Yasha.” she says, broken voice and broken soul. “My child.”
Yasha closes her eyes for a moment at the word, a single tear escaping her.
She grabs Beau’s hand with both of hers, and takes a deep breath.
A soft voice speaks up from the corner of the table, making both Dairon and Marion turn.
“We found more intel, a few weeks ago.” Jester says, all her usual cheerfulness now gone. “We’ve been trying to dismantle the project for years, now. It’s not easy. They have connections everywhere. Mafia and Ndrangheta in Italy. The Cartel in Mexico. Triad, China. You name it. They’re everywhere.”
Veth takes over.
“So we started setting up traps. All over. We’ve been trying to collect intel about customers, buyers, sellers, anything. We started suspecting on someone who was once seen with one of Marion’s old... Clients.”
Marion is quicker than Dairon to understand.
“The Gentleman.” she says, in a whisper. Her hold on Dairon’s hand loosens just slightly.
Jester nods.
“I talked to him. He didn’t seem to have anything to do with them, this time around. But we didn’t trust that he would just leave it alone, so we had Beau and Yasha at the Hotel, as security. We were going to tell you, Mama, as soon as possible. But then...”
Everyone turns to look at Dairon.
“Then the CIA got wind of a possible meeting of drug lords in Paris, and the Gentleman’s name was made.” Dairon continues, finally piecing everything together. “I was sent in to gather intel and protect the source. Marion, we assumed.”
Everyone around the table nods.
Beau, finally turning away from Yasha, places her palm on the wooden table.
“As you can see, Dairon... We have work to do. You are welcome to stay or to go, once you’re feeling better. But we’re going to do this with or without you.”
The table turns to look at them.
Dairon looks at Marion, and the woman blinks, her beautiful face pale as a ghost.
Dairon turns to look at Beau.
"I’m in.”
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Crashing Down
(steve harrington x hopper!reader)
Guys, I'm super emotional… this- is the last part to the fic. But more importantly this chapter is what the whole fic was written around. It's insane. Well more so like the very ending of it. But I'm so happy that this happened and I finally wrote my first fic ever. I just can't believe it. Thank you to everyone who read this and continued to support me through this. A special thanks to @harringtown who literally always has my back and was helping me out with this. I think i might write another fic one day but in all honesty who knows. It's freakin hard idk how Brooke spits these suckers out almost every day??? But who knows maybe i'll be more original next time and not have a full fledged slow burn fic.. Anyways love you guys! Xx ps its finally (steve x reader) !!!!
catch up here
Warnings: cursing, death, fluff, angst, super hella sadness, all the good stuff. And season 3 spoilers ig
Part 9/9
Word count: 3.7k (THIS IS INSANE??)
Summary: Sometimes things just don’t go as planned and your world just comes crashing down, but it’s a good thing that you have people in your life to be there to catch you when you fall.
><
You squirmed out of Steve’s arms and ran to your dad, El limping close behind you pulled him into a big hug. Even though the last time you saw him was a few days ago, now was not the time for full fledged reunions you had to figure out what you guys were going to do to beat this thing.
As everyone was explaining their part of what had been going on over the last couple of days, you took your place under Steve’s arm. You watched as Jim gave Eleven the extra care she needed in that moment, making your lips curl up at the corners.
“But instead of, like, screws and metal, the Mind Flayer made its weapon with melted people.” Steve said trying to make sense of everything he was being told
“Yeah, and it was fucking terrifying.” you say remembering what happened at the hospital yesterday.
“Yeah, okay I’m just makin’ sure”
><
Hopping up on the counter next to Steve, you watched everyone scramble around trying to make last minute preparations before, Joyce, Murray and your dad headed down into the Russian bunker. You look at Steve’s face and how messed up it is and then look back at your father, hoping nothing too bad would happen to him down there.
Steve notice how deep in thought you were,
“Don’t hurt yourself, thinking to hard over there Hop.” he said trying to make light of a situation
You laughed slightly, still letting your mind wander in and out of focus.
“You okay?” he asked moving across the counter to be a little closer to you
“Yeah just thinking. A lot of things could go wrong, just nervous I guess.”
He nods his head in agreement, “But this is your dad we're talking about, he’ll be just fine.”
You overhear Dustin telling Hopper that they need a head start and a car to get to the highest point in Hawkins. He turns and waves Steve over, Steve gives you a pat on the knee before jumping off the counter and heading over to him. After telling Steve what he needed to do, he hollered out your name meaning you were needed.
Steve met you in the middle causing you to stop, he pulled you into a hug while telling you that he was in charge of taking Dustin and Erica to some radio tower.
“For the love of God, please be safe. It’s bad enough you’ve already been fucked up by the Russians, I really need you back in one piece.” you say to him pulling him just a little closer
“Oh you don’t have to worry about me, it’s you I'm worried about.”
You took a deep breath in before pulling away. You looked up into Steve’s eyes and placed a hand on his face, stroking his cheek with your thumb before walking over to your dad.
“I was summoned.” you say marching up to and standing next to your dad
“C’mere,” he said, pulling you into his side, “I need you to keep a really close eye on El for me, okay?”
“Of course dad.”
“This thing is after her, so you guys are going to Murray’s house, so you guys can stay safe, protected and off the radar until this is all over.”
“Alright.” is all you can muster out before he pulls you into a lung crushing hug.
><
You climb into the backseat of the Wheeler’s family car before Will and Lucas, leaving El, Mike and Max in the very back of the car. Nancy tries cranking the car but the engine just won’t start. Jonathan gets out to look, and says that there's a part missing, and it doesn’t make any sense. But all thoughts are put aside when you hear the sound of a very loud and familiar engine revving up.
“Get out, get out the car now” you say rather loudly nudging at Lucas’s side.
You all get out of the car and head back into the mall where you would be a little bit safer.
After you get inside Mike instantly pulls out his walkie and starts sending out a code for ‘Scoops Troop’. You're standing next to El with your arm wrapped around her shoulder rubbing up and down her arm in an attempt to keep her calm.
You see Jonathan, Nancy, Will and Max all walk over to the car that El had flipped over onto the Russian’s earlier that evening. You call Mike and follow in pursuit, climbing over the counter and behind the car to try and flip it over. You even let Eleven try to slip it over with her powers but it’s no use, but suddenly a bell goes off in your head. The same bell apparently goes off in Mike’s head because almost as if you were reading each others minds.
“Physics.” you both say in unison.
You flip the car over with the use of leverage and Jonathan begins his search for the ignition cable.
Max was the one to notice El digging through the trash, you were the first to walk over to her and Mike was the one to call out to her. You were asking if she was okay and telling her that she needed to save her energy when none other than the Mind Flayer comes crashing down into the mall.
“Fucking hell..”
You grab hold of Eleven’s hand and pull her away and out of sight.
The four of you are hidden behind some sort of stand in the middle of the mall when Dustin comes over the walkie talkie telling you all to confirm your safety, but the Mind Flayer wasn’t having any of it. It let out one of the loudest screeches you had ever heard, you hadn’t been that close to it before. Tears formed in your eyes from the pain and from fear.
“We’ve gotta move.” you whisper to Mike
“There’s a way to get out, through The Gap.” El whispers back
Mike peeks his head up to see where the Mind Flayer is and is looking,
“Okay, okay. Now.” he said, grabbing El’s hand making a break for it, but of course not without making some fort of ruckus making the Mind Flayer turn and charge. Luckily you push them behind a clothing display just before it makes it to where the items had fallen,
You put your index finger to your lips signaling for them to be extremely quiet before you covered your mouth with your entire hand, attempting to silence your heave breathing. Looking at the three teens you motioned for them to crawl over behind the checkout counter in case it was just playing games, not wanting to risk anything. Though moving to this new spot didn’t help too much because you heard to your left the nasty sound of what you could only imagine was the flesh moving around.
As you turned and looked to your left you could confirm what you had heard, seeing the flesh like claw coming around the corner to snap at you. There was a loud popping noise, that sounded a lot like a balloon that caused a distraction making the claw retreat now redirecting its attention to the new sound.
“Go, go go.” you said to the kids and you got up making a mad dash towards the exit.
You run out the back door and towards the gate that allows delivery trucks in and out trying to catch up with Nancy and the others. But as you make it just outside the gate you see Flayed Billy standing behind his car. You make the kids turn around and go back inside the mall in hopes that Billy didn’t see you, but you wouldn't go unnoticed especially since you had to go back and press the close gate button a second time because it didn’t work the first time.
You run down a few different hallways trying to find another way out, whether that be up or down. So you pulled off into a side room where an elevator was, and mike pressed the button a few times. You really thought you had lost Billy at this point so you were good to take a little breather, until you heard the opening and shutting of a heavy metal door.
Max was the one to round the corner and see who it was,
“Billy. Billy, you don’t have to do this. Billy. Your name is Billy, Billy Hargrove, you live on 4819 Cherry Lane. Billy please, I’m Max, I’m your-” was all you heard before the monster backhanded her out of consciousness. Mike was the first to lunge at him, but instantly got thrown against the wall and was also knocked unconscious. That left you and El, you take your stand in front of your sister and attempt to throw a punch at him, You successfully hit him in the jaw,
“You’re gonna regret that you little bitch” he says as he grabs you by the arm and twists until you’re facing away from him and he slams your head into the wall, everything goes black
><
You wake up, what seems to be like hours later, seeing both Max and Mike still unconscious on the ground. You sit up, head pounding and your wrist and shoulder in excruciating pain. You crawl over to Max and get her to wake up, and when she does, she yells at Mike to get up.
“Are you guys okay?” you ask them. The both shake their heads, but then begin looking around the small room.
“Where’s El?” Mike asks.
The three of you run around in a panicked state of mind calling out for her hoping she had fucked Billy up and ran for help, but the more you looked the less hopeful you felt. You ran back down what you thought were the same hallways from earlier, but with your new concussion you weren’t so sure anymore.
You looked down to the ground and saw drops of blood and some sort of black stuff.
“Guys, look.” you say pointing down the hallway where the trail of blood led.
After some time you finally manage to make your way to the main part of the mall. You pulled yourself to a complete stop, sticking your arm out to stop Mike and Max from continuing on any further. El was on the floor talking to Billy.
You watched with wide eyes as Billy stood up in a protective stance over El. He stood there and stared at his creator, the thing that had destroyed him. Millions of memories flashed before his eyes as the fleshy tentacle that was supposed to kill your sister, shot out towards him. He stuck his arms out to stop it, to sacrifice himself.
You watched in pure shock as tentacles pierced into his sides and back, grabbing hold of him, hoisting him up. It all happened in slow motion, as if the universe was trying to torture you in some way. You watched as that thing took your Billy Hargrove and pierced into his chest.
“Billy!” you and Max screamed one after another
You choked up a sob as you took off running over to him, Max close behind. You slammed your knees into the ground as you grabbed Billy’s shoulders and shook them trying to keep him awake.
“Billy, Billy. Stay with me. Billy?”
His eyes fluttered open for a split second, this was the last time that he’d see your beautiful face.
“Hey, hey, hey, I need you to stay with me. Baby I can’t lose you. Please, baby please.”
He somehow managed to get an ‘I’m sorry’ out but you didn’t care he didn’t need to be apologizing right now, but that was the only thing he said before his whole body went limp. You continued to shake his shoulders, in disbelief that this was happening and that if you kept him awake long enough he would be okay.
“Billy, no please, Billy.” it suddenly feels like you can’t breath but the only thing you can do is yell. You’re choking out sobs as you strain your voice yelling out his name.
Steve makes it down to the second floor as quickly as he can and is behind you in seconds. He puts his hands on your shoulders in an attempt to pull you away and into his arms but you turn and yell at him.
“No! Stop it! Don’t let them touch him! Billy! Billy!” Each phrase is spoken with more sobs. You finally collapse into Steve’s arms, shaking violently with each cry.
All you can seem to say at this point was Billy’s name. Steve leads you to a paramedic and says that he’ll meet you outside, turning around and running back inside. You along with all of the others are checked over and are cleared to go home after sitting in ambulances for a while.
After Steve is checked, he walks over to you, Max and El and takes a seat next to you. The two are in a very tight hug, your sister is doing her best at comforting Max in this time of loss. You sit in silence, not having enough energy or emotion to talk. Steve wraps his arms around you with his blanket and pulls you into a tight embrace. You mellow out your breathing until you realize that you haven’t seen Murray, Joyce or your dad anywhere.
In a panic you release from Steve’s grip and grab your sister’s hand leading her to stand up. The two of you spend a few minutes looking around for them with no luck, suddenly you spot Joyce. No sign of Hopper, you notice that El see’s her too and looks to you confused as to why dad wasn't with her. But then she realizes, you know it too, dad didn’t make it.
Eleven turns into your arms and lets all of her tears out, and just when you think you don’t have any tears left to cry, all of your tears fall on top of her head. She lets out one scream and that’s it, the rest are sobs. You cradle her head, holding onto her and not letting go.
Both Joyce and Steve offer to take both you and El in for the night, seeing as how the cabin had been destroyed earlier that night and Hop wasn’t there to take you in for some extra loving. Of course you spent the next couple of weeks staying the night at the Byers’ house. But after a while it started to get a little too cramped so while El stayed with Joyce while you stayed with Steve. Most days were the same, super hard and emotional. But other days, you would be taking a few steps forward to recovery. It wasn’t easy, and it wasn't ever going to get easier, but you at least had the right people in your life to help you out.
>3 months later<
Over the last three months things have gotten better, you spent lots of time with Max and Eleven. Making sure that they’re both okay and that they know that they are both very loved. Your dad always told Joyce that if anything were to ever happen to him, that if she was up for it, to take care of El. It wasn’t that he didn't trust you to take care of her, he just knew that it would be a lot for you at such a young age.
Joyce took her in with open arms, and even offered a room to you when she mentioned that they would be moving to Maine. You declined, only because Steve couldn't handle all the kids by himself. Steve’s mom even offered to let you stay in their guest room until you and Steve could get your own place, you had only been talking about it since you were 11. The two of you still planned on doing that, but with being unemployed at the moment it was kinda hard to have money to pay rent.
Today was the final day of packing up the Byers house. You had planned on being there but got pulled into a last minute job interview at Family Video with Robin and Steve. But as soon as you were done there, you were heading over to say your goodbyes. It was a hard day and you were trying not to think about it.
Good news: the three of you start work on Monday. Bad news: it was time for the Byers to leave.
As you and Steve pulled up it looked like they had just put the last box in the moving truck. You hopped out of the car and jogged up to the door right as Joyce was coming out with a box for you to take home.
“What’s this?” you ask, taking the box from her
“Just a couple of Hop’s things, I thought you'd might want them.”
You sat the box down on the front porch and pulled her in for a hug, “Thank you, for everything. For the stuff and for basically being my mom and for taking El in. It means a lot to me.” A few tears escaped from your eyes.
As everyone was saying their final goodbyes you pulled El in for one final hug.
“You don’t have to go, you know..” you say in a half joking manner. “you could stay here with me, get our own place or fix up the cabin. He did it before.”
All she does is chuckle lightly and buries her face deeper into your chest.
“I'm really gonna miss you, kid” you say quoting something your dad would say, “but I’ll see you soon. I think we’re all coming up for Thanksgiving next month and then Christmas is right after that.”
“I know” she said quietly, “I love you, Y/N”
“I love you too El.” you pulled away from the hug and locked pinkies with her and kissed your own hands. Giving each other a small smile before moving on to the others.
“You have Steve’s number right?” you asked before pulling her into one last hug. She nodded her head as she pulled you closer for one last squeeze before climbing into the passenger seat of the moving truck. You shut the door behind her patted the door and just like that they were gone. The kids all ride their bikes back to their designated homes and you and Steve climbed back into his car to head home too.
><
As Steve puts his car into park he shifts a little in his seat, you don’t notice because you're looking down at your hands with tears rolling down your cheeks.
“I know today’s kind of a hard day for you, but I have something that might make you feel a little bit better.” he says running a hand through his hair.
He reached behind you into the back seat and pulled out a flat velvet box, you give him a curious look,
“Max and I, we talked about this for a really long time and she really wanted you to have this.” he says handing you the box.
You open it and your eyes fill with more tears as your hands drop to your lap and your head hung forward. Inside the box was Billy’s Virgin Mary necklace. It had been polished and shined and cleaned and it looked better than ever. You set the box to the side and you wrap your arms around Steve and give him a hug. After you pull away you pick up the box again and look down at it.
“I miss him Steve,” you say resting your head on his shoulder.
“I know you do.” he said as he wraps his arm around you
You sit up and look at him and he's looking back at you with nothing but love in his eyes, you think it’s time you told him.
“Steve there’s something I need to tell you.” your heart is beating so hard you’d be surprised if he couldn’t hear it. “These last 3 months have been some of the hardest months of my life, not only because I lost so much but because I’ve realized a lot of things. I learned my self worth, it’s been a while since I’ve truly been happy. And I found that I’m only truly happy when I’m with you. I also know that Billy would’ve wanted me to move on at some point, and as much as he said he hated you Harrington, he wouldn’t want me to be with anyone but you.”
He looked at you like if he blinked everything would fade away and none of this would be real. You reach out and place a hand on his face, looking over where wounds had once been and were now turning into scars.
“ I love you Steve.” You finally say
He doesn’t say anything back he just leans in and presses his soft lips against yours. The kiss held so much love and emotion. It felt just like the movies, like the moment when these things always happened. Time seemed to have slowed down, allowing you take it all in and cherish it.
“I’ll take that as the feeling’s mutual?” You say with a giggle.
Steve brushes his nose against yours before kissing you again, only this time with more force. You took this as his way of saying yes. His mouth hot on yours as his hands grabbed your waist awkwardly from the place he was sitting and pulled you as close as he could. You both only pulled away to catch a breath.
This would be a moment you would remember for the rest of your life. It wasn’t your first kiss, wasn’t even your second, or hundredth, but it was your first kiss as lovers, but it definitely would not be your last. The world would throw crazy things at you, especially when you aren’t ready for it, but you don’t have to deal with it alone anymore.
You just always have to know that sometimes things just don’t go as planned and your world might come crashing down and it’ll fall apart, but always remember that you’ll have people in your life to be there to catch you when you fall.
Taglist:
@ughhhitsfan @eleventhdoctorsangel @chloe-skywalker
#steve harrington#steve harrington imagines#steve harrington x you#steve harrington x reader#Billy Hargrove#nancy wheeler#robin buckley#jonathan byers#stranger things#stranger things imagine#stranger things fic#crashing down#kait writes#i cant believe its over#wtf#thank you#im crying#steve harrington x hopper!reader#jim hopper#billy hargrove x hopper!reader#slow burn#hopper!reader
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Talk Later?
A/N: WELCOME BACK. I got another request here, this one is with a Henderson!Reader. Again, I took some liberties with the request. I think it still fits, but it just made more sense in terms of timelines and such. Either way I hope y’all like it!
Pairing: Steve Harrington x Henderson!Reader
Fandom: Stranger Things (specifically Stranger Things 3)
Word Count: 1,813
Summary/ Request: Can you do a Steve Harrington x Henderson!reader imagine where they meet up at the Starcourt before the battle and worry/asses each other’s injuries (her’s from the Mind Flayer and Steve’s from the Russians) and while they’re meant to be preparing, Steve decides it’s the time to finally confess his feelings?
Warnings: Some violence, sad times, light sexy times.
Ao3
Masterlist
(I don’t think that that is what he is saying in the gif, but meh, who cares.
This was it.
You, and all your friends, were gonna die.
Billy was speeding towards you, his camaro’s engine was thrumming with power, and compared to the thunks and groans your car was making, you would be lucky if Jonathon’s car would even start.
Nancy was firing shot after shot at Billy, but no matter how good of an aim she had, he didn’t seem to be slowing down. Tears clouded your vision, and you could hear the kids screams, but you could only think of your loved ones.
“I love you Dust Bunny” you said through the walkie as you braced yourself against the back of the car. You were scared to leave your brother behind, but you had no doubt that Steve would love and take care of Dustin in your place. You just prayed that he would live to see the next day, even if you didn’t.
But instead of an impact, your head snapped up as you heard the scream of metal hitting metal and the squealing of tires.
“Griswold family, do you copy?!” Dustin yelled over the walkie, “Y/N please! Tell me you’re okay!” you could hear the tears in his voice, so you fought through the shock to reply.
“We’re all good Scoop Troop, a little shaken up, but we’re good” You said as you let out a breath, and looked over to Steve who sat in the driver’s seat of the TodFather. He was your knight in shining armor. Well, more like your knight in a sailor costume.
However, your relief was short lived as you felt the ground shake, so forcefully you felt it from within the back of the car, and heard the terrifying roar of the Mindflayer as it crawled atop the destroyed Starcourt Mall.
Thankfully, right then, Jonathon was able to get the car started, and Nancy called for Steve and Robin to jump in. Steve climbed into the back with you, and Robin managed to squeeze in with Lucas and Will. You let out a squeak as Steve grabbed you when Jonathon peeled out of the parking lot, bringing you into his lap and drowning you in a hug. You clung to him like a lifeline, breathing him in. As much as you didn’t want to admit it, you had thought about him too, when you saw Billy cruising towards you. You thanked every god there was that he was okay, well, relatively okay.
“Oh my god Steve! What happened to your face?” You said as you sat back and got a good look at him. You lightly swiped your thumb under his swollen eye, before trailing it to his cheek, a frown crossing your face. He couldn’t help but close his eyes at your soft touch, leaning into the hand that was now holding his face. He felt like he finally had a second to breath, now that you were safe in his arms. Your hands stroking his face reminded him that he did in fact have to open his eyes, and reply to you.
“Ah, just some Russians, don’t worry about it. This is like, the third time in the last two years my face has looked like this,” He laughed, shaking his head and wrapping around his arm around your waist a little tighter as Jonathon took a sharp turn. You gasped as his fingers hit a spot on your side, and your hand flew down to cover his.
“You okay Y/N/N?” Steve asked frantically, moving you off his lap and onto the seat, his own body switching to the floor where he put his hands on your face and arm, looking for any visible injuries. You shuddered as your hand grazed the spot again, and you felt a small amount of liquid slip through your fingers.
“Oh my god! You’re bleeding!” Steve shrieked, causing Jonathon to swerve and Nancy to send a glare to the back. You had to stop yourself from laughing as he tried to (unsuccessfully) rip off a piece of his shirt, “need to stop the bleeding…” being mumbled under his breath. “Steve, I’m fine, it’s just a graze from some glass,” You said as you took his hands in yours, making him stop trying to rip apart his uniform. Just then, a sound came over the walkie again, one you never thought you’d actually here.
“Dusty Buns do you copy?”
“I copy Suzie-Poo, it sounds much better now, thanks” You looked back up to Steve and you both came to the realization at the same time.
“Suzie”
You couldn’t help but shake your head at the craziness of it all. There you were, sitting in the back of Jonathon’s car, hearing your brother talk to his girlfriend about Planck’s constant, so that Hopper and Joyce could get into the secret Russian base underneath the mall, to shut down a machine that linked your world to an alternate dimension. Oh and not to mention the fact that there was a giant ass monster running after you.
Speaking of the Mindflayer, he decided to make his presence known once again, by unleashing yet another ear shattering roar into the air.
Before you really thought about it, you threw yourself back into Steve’s lap, hiding your face in his neck, as his arms instinctively wrapped around you. You realized a beat later what you had done, and immediately tried to move back.
“S-Sorry…” You said as you pulled away slightly, not getting too far due to the arms that were still wrapped firmly around your waist.
“S’okay,” Steve whispered, but you could tell his attention was elsewhere. Instead, as you felt your heart start thundering in your chest, you realized that he was staring at your lips. His eyes flicked back up to meet your gaze, and the next thing you knew he had crashed his lips to yours. The kiss was frantic, as if you both couldn’t get enough. Maybe it was because you both knew that it could be the last time you ever got the chance to do it, or maybe it was the thrill of finally acting upon unsaid feelings. Maybe it was a combination of both, but neither of you were complaining.
Steve’s hands were everywhere, pulling you closer onto his lap and trailing them down your back as you gripped onto his amazing hair. Stars danced behind your eyelids as you finally got to kiss the boy you had been crushing on since middle school. It was horrible timing, but who were you to question fate?
While you and Steve were off in your own bubble of teenage hormones, Robin and Will were sat upfront, both amused and horrified by not only your makeout session, but with Dustin and Suzie singing “The Never Ending Story” over the walkie.
“What on EARTH is happening right now?! There is a monster chasing us while Steve and Y/N are making out in the back and Dustin is doing karaoke!” Lucas shouted as he looked at the remainder of the group. Robin and WIll shrugged, prepared to let it go in favor of focusing on getting away from the MindFlayer. But then Robin heard Steve groan and she did NOT want to hear what other sounds the two of you could make if she let you continue.
“Steve! Y/N!” Robin said as she threw a can at Steve’s head. You broke apart immediately, with Steve glaring at Robin as he rubbed the back of his head.
“We’ll talk later?” You asked through a laugh, even though Robin had ruined a moment, you had to admit that she had good aim.
“Yeah, yeah sounds good!” Steve said as he cleared his throat, trying to discreetly shift under you without you noticing...
“Oh my god! Steve’s got a boner!” Lucas shouted, laughing maniacally as Steve turned a bright shade of red.
“C’mon man! Not cool!” Steve looked back to you, trying to gauge your reaction, but your gaze was locked onto the back window.
“Hey guys!” You said nervously, getting the attention of the entire car. “It’s turning around”
“What?” Nancy asked from the front.
“It’s turning around,”
“Maybe we wore it out?” Lucas suggested.
“I don’t think so, hold on!”
Jonathon said as whipped the car around, flying back towards Starcourt Mall
~~~~
In the end, the battle had been won, but the victory didn’t come without a price.
Max had left without her step brother, and although he had been a dick to everyone, including you, you knew of what went on behind closed doors. You also knew that he had been possessed, like Will had been, his actions weren’t of his own free will.
He was a kid that had been taken advantage of, and was a victim like everyone else. In the end he had sacrificed himself to Save El, a girl he had just met, because she showed him two minutes of kindness.
You believed that Billy Hargrove deserved better than the fate that was handed to him.
And El, poor El, lost the only parental figure she had. Hopper’s death was felt by all of you, and it was going to take a long time for the party to heal from those wounds. He too, had given his life for the world, and there wasn’t even ash left to remember him by.
It was a grueling few months that followed. You’d attended both Billy’s and Hopper’s funerals, and helped the Byers, including El, move out of Hawkins. The only thing that got you through those tough times, was your boyfriend Steve. He had held your hand and wrapped his arms around you through the night when you were plagued by nightmares. He meant the world to you, and you thanked the stars every day that he had come into your life.
“Hey Steve?” You asked as you laid upon his chest, his steady heartbeat thumping under your ear.
He hummed in reply, his eyes closed and relaxed, fingers softly carding through your hair.
“I just wanted to say that I love you” He opened his eyes then, and you nearly melted when you saw the pure adoration shining in them.
“I love you too Y/N, more than you know,” He said as he leaned down, pulling you closer to his body and kissing you like your life depended on it. The fire still burned as bright as it had that night, if not more so, and before you knew it, Steve had laid himself on top of you, seemingly now shirtless. You felt his mouth start to trail from your lips, to your jaw, to the curve of your…
The door burst open, and to your horror, Dustin strolled in without a care in the world. You tried to throw Steve off as fast as possible, but the damage was done.
“OH GOD, MY EYES!”
#steve harrington x reader#steve harrington#Steve harrington x Henderson!reader#stranger things#Stranger things 3#henderson!reader#dustin henderson#lucas sinclair#will byers#jonathon byers#billy hargrove#nancy wheeler#steve harrington fanfiction#steve harrington x you
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Agent of Hope - 9
Your world falls into ruin together with the Strategic Homeland Intervention Enforcements Logistics Division when you find out that your boyfriend isn’t one of the good guys. Pairing: Brock Rumlow x fem!reader, Natasha Romanoff x fem!reader Contents: Swearing, angst, distrust, pain, hate, mentions of wounds, some unwanted physical contact (minimal). A/N: Thanks for all the reblogs, my dears! I really appreciate it and it keeps me in the mood for writing more. Hope you like this chapter!
9 - Big bad wolf
Feeling the buzzing, Natasha pulls the cellphone out under the table. The blue light is probably obvious to the people staring her down from their high seats, but she can’t care less about their self claimed entitlement after this day’s six hours (and still counting) of their brainless questioning and attempts at shoving the blame unto her and the Avengers and SHIELD. Natasha rolls the eyes at a senator before focusing on the screen between her fingers.
The chair scrapes harshly over the stone floor, sending jarring shivers through the people around the accused agent which she ignores. In fact, they could have shouted at her and she still wouldn’t have noticed. Fuck. Vaguely aware that someone is calling out to her, the woman turns and strides out of the room, attempting to lessen the pace before it becomes an actual run when she’s out in the long hallway. Shit.
The phone is partially buried in the dark, red locks that bounce and sway with each step. C’mon! Steve answers on the third ring, the sound of shots reverberating along the connection but with little effect on either of the speakers.
“Nat?”
“They got her.”
A few choice curses are dug out from the fourties. “We’re wrapping up here anyways, call you back.”
“Hurry.”
Natasha cuts the call short, fingers already itching to tap in the next number when she takes a deep breath to steel herself before stepping out the front doors and into the veritable storm of camera flashes and shouts from impatient journalists. It’s impossible to hear the beeping unless she presses the phone hard against her ear, but there’s only one ringing tone before the call is answered.
“Clint.”
The welcoming voice chuckles. “You look pissed, smile to the camera.”
It’s tempting to flip it the bird but that won’t help. “Ha…ha…no.” A murderous gaze clears the rest of the way to the car strategically parked right outside the building. “Need you asap.”
“Trouble with the press?”
The door slams, finally shielding the ex-Russian from the scuffle. “Check Jarvis’ message.”
Clint grunt unintelligibly, a sure sign that he’s following orders without wanting to miss the show on the TV where reporters are speculating on Natasha’s tire-squealing exit. There are other voices carried faintly through the phone, evidence of the balance the archer has managed to find between his occupation and a family. Something tugs at her heart and she buries the nose in the thin shirt that still smells a little bit of the woman who turned up out of nowhere.
“Crap.” He doesn’t need to say much else but adds that he’ll be ready.
But where? “Jar’s tracking them, keep you posted.”
… Reader’s PoV …
Not only is your head pounding, your body is also aching with a billion tiny razorblades swimming through your veins and to make it all worse: the place you’re at stinks of dried piss and you’re not all to sure that it isn’t coming from the sorry excuse of a mattress you’re lying on. It’s impossible to see, though, as there are no lights. Wriggling around gingerly, at least you can move freely and sit up. Where the fuck am I? The memories are blurred, only reluctantly untangling themselves from the pain and fussiness to be organized, emptying you from all but cold, immobilizing dread.
You’ve spent some of the time at the Compound by reading up on Hydra. They’ve had a hand in much more than you could ever have imagined, apparently, working from within to shape the world by enabling innumerable horrible events throughout history. If they had succeeded with the latest plan, it would only have topped the list of horrors due to the immediate number of deaths.
Now they’ve got you.
Leaning back, the wall is coarse and damp against the cotton on your back. Your bare toes are cold. Your cheeks are wet from silent tears that flow steadily no matter how hard you try to convince yourself that it’s all going to be okay. The Avengers will come. Natasha will come. Please…come for me.
Resting the back of your head against the wall sends a few crumbling bits of plaster or something down your shirt, but you don’t bother with it because you’ve noticed something else: up in the darkness more or less ahead of you, there’s a tiny dot of red light glowing. Turning your head in the darkness, you find another to your left. Cameras. Placed in diagonal corners, as far as you can judge, there’s no place you cannot be seen. But it’s dark. Do they work even now? No one has come although you’ve clearly been awake for a while, and as you wave a hand in front of your face, it’s only the brief disappearance of the light that proves the movement is real. Hesitating, you give one of the cameras the finger.
…
You’re starting to get hungry by the time footsteps approach and stop. A faint click is the only warning before a naked lightbulb overhead flickers on with an angry buzz, and you squint under the harsh glare to take in the room.
There’s a seatless toilet in one corner, the metal gleaming in the light that does absolutely nothing to improve the basement-like cell where the lowest foot of concrete on the walls is loosening the grip due to the damp. Dust lies in fat layers on the few surfaces, sticky and dark not unlike some of the patches on the mattress you’re sitting on…although a few of those are more brownish. Yuck.
The squeak of metal against metal makes your hairs stand on end. Or maybe it’s the fear of who will walk through the door as it slides open, granting a brief glimpse of a similarly nasty hallway beyond the figure.
“Hey, baby,” Brock’s voice is clipped, bandages and what-not still wrapping around his skull and jaw, “missed me?”
You don’t want to answer, don’t want to look at the broken man with eyes fiery from madness, but looking away can hardly be a safe choice either. Focusing on his chest, you realize that there must be almost no bandages hidden beneath the tight black t-shirt. How? He’d been crushed as the building fell, almost rebuild at the hospital to the extend that he was more metal and broken bones than any healthy parts.
“Don’t like what you see?” The lisp is minimal unlike the limp as he steps closer. “Look at me!” You do as he says, heart pumping in your throat and guts churning with panic. “Look what they did to me, what your new friends did to the man who loved you!”
Meeting his once gorgeous eyes is harder than anything else right now. “You did this to yourself…” is all you manage to whisper at first before finding your voice, your defiance, “you deserve what happened. Hydra? Don’t play the victim when we both know you’re not!”
Brock moves quickly considering he’s recovering and the force behind the back-hand slap is numbing the first seconds until the impact registers like fire across your face. There’s a taste of blood on your tongue, seeping out at the corner of your mouth until a strong hand grabs you by the jaw with renewed pain.
“Don’t think your friends are all that innocent, baby,” Brock hisses, his spit landing on your face, “Hydra wants a better world, I’ll make you see.”
“Njwh!” It doesn’t sound as defiant as you had hoped, but you can’t shake your head free.
A patch on his bandages along the temple darkens with moisture as Brock’s face splits in a grin. “Stubborn girl, we’re back together now, so stop fighting it.”
Surging down, his lips with all the chapped wounds and poisonous words crash upon yours. Too stunned to fight him, you feel his tongue slither along the seem of your mouth to gain entrance with nothing but sheer force. This is nothing like the passionate man you fell in love with. Gone is the caring soul, replaced by a fickle monster that will hurt you in any way imaginable…a fear that’s proven true as his teeth dig into your lower lips so hard it draws blood.
“That,” he whispers against your face before licking the hot drops of crimson away, “was just a warning.”
When he stands, he pushes you easily halfway onto the cold floor, but you don’t mind. Every fiber in you has gone numb as you come to terms with just how royally fucked you are.
Please, Tasha.
#Brock Rumlow#natasha romanoff#Natalia romanova#Black Widow#Crossbones#Agent of hope mcu fanfiction#Natasha romanoff x reader#natasha romanoff x you#Brock Rumlow x reader#Brock Rumlow x you#avengers#hydra#shield#clint barton#hawkeye#Steve Rogers#captain america#tony stark#Iron Man#jarvis#captain america winter soldier#mcu#marvel cinematic universe#fanfiction#mcu fanfiction#marvel#writing#fan writing#angst#mcu series
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Hello, I'm the anon that asked for the three werewolf prompts. I thought I'd drop by and ask for three vampire ones as well if you're still taking D:bh writing requests? “So…how old are you?”, “There’s no such thing as ‘the good old days’. Every time sucks.” and “I shouldn’t have waited this long…”
Hello again Anon. Those three werewolf prompts were pretty fun to do and I'm happy to write with these three vampire ones. Feel free to pop back in if you want some more AU/Canon goodness!
On with the show. One vampire Simon coming right up (with an appropriate gif to boot), enjoy!
---
[[MORE]]
On the ride back to the Manfred household from North's family cabin, Josh can't help but fidget and glance curiously at the only person in the car that's covered from head to toe to shield himself from the sunlight. He had been pondering for a while now, why a vampire would risk sun exposure by coming out to camp out in the woods with friends.
Then, as the minutes crawled by, Josh began to ponder on something else. The way Simon had worded his friends's apparent adoption of the werewolf into their inner circle, and how the vampire apparently had been living in Markus's attic before he too was taken in, in a similar manner.
"If you keep staring at me like that, I fear you might burn a hole through my layers." The blond spoke up, startling Josh out of his thoughts, a humorous tone indicating that he wasn't so much as unnerved as he was amused.
"Sorry..." He couldn't help apologize as he caught the other's gaze under his sunglasses. "It's just... I've never actually seen a vampire before."
It was odd how werewolves were so common these days, but vampires were merely spoken about in hushed whispers. It was less terrifying to some that men could become huge wolfish beasts, but their undead kin could remain hidden behind a facade of normalcy. Simon certainly looked human enough. Enough so that Josh hadn't even realized what he truly was before he'd made his move to defend his friends. Defend them from a percieved common threat, even if he'd been rather passive at the time rather than aggressive like the rest of his pack.
Still, the werewolf saw no reason to fear the blond. If anything he was just curious about him.
"We're rare these days. It's hard to find one of us if we don't want to be found." Simon explained, seeming to have rehearsed this response. Maybe he'd had to say the same to many others before him.
Which brought another question...
"...Ok this is going to sound super rude..." Josh flustered slightly as he tried not to be too blunt "But uh... how old are you?"
At the front North snorted loudly and Josh could see the corner of Markus's eye crinkle with amusement on the rearview mirror. Simon simply stared at him before rolling his eyes and smiling.
"Old enough." He responded nonchalantly.
"What?" Josh stared, before North burst out laughing and spoke up.
"He can't remember, but he's old as fuck!" She told him, before whining when the vampire lightly punched her arm. "Sensitive about your age as ever, old timer?"
"I'll have you know no matter how old I technically am, I'll remain 28 for eternity!" Simon almost sounded like a bird with it's feathers ruffled, which was quite funny really. Almost like a cockatoo, minus the extravagant yellow display feathers.
Josh made a note not to ask about his age again tho, he doubted it was nice to be eternally youthful and then lose track of time like that... If anything it sounded like a lonely existence.
---
Mr. Manfred (who insisted Josh call him Carl because being refered to as 'mister' made him feel ancient) was a rather interesting man. An eccentric artist with an extravagantly decorated house and three bright young sons that he was proud of (even if Leo seemed to doubt his father liked him at all). Josh found in him a good conversation partner, a brilliant chess opponent, and someone who could teach him a lot about the world.
No one in his family had liked history and philosophy, so staying with the Manfreds was like paradise. Especially when he sat down and discussed things with Carl.
Another person who seemed so fond of joining their debates was undoubtedly the resident vampire.
Simon was a man of few words and many hobbies, but whenever he had something to say it often got both Josh and Carl thinking.
“There’s no such thing as ‘the good old days’. Every time sucks.” the blond grumbled once, when Carl had been reminiscing about the past. Saying how easier it was now to assume your sexuality or gender identity without being prosecuted by the public.
Simon had wholly disagreed with his opinion on the matter.
"Hundreds of years ago people would slaughter each other for minor differences. Be they gender, race, or religion." The vampire stated. "Today is the same, but the media is changing to hide it more. What's the death of a young unarmed black man, or of an innocent trans person worth to the public, when they could focus on the pressing things of life, like what celebrities are doing, or what is fashionable these days?"
Josh had been unsure what to say to those bitter words, because he knew for a fact that injustices still happened regularly. Carl had merely tried to shrug it off, not seeming all that willing to discuss it further. The artist later admitted he'd been wrong, when Leo came back with a black eye after being assaulted in a public bathroom. Apparently a guy had noticed his binder when he'd gone to wash his hands and, had Leo not been accompanied by two of his friends (one of which was a 6'7" Russian built like a goddamn bear), things could have taken a turn for the worst.
Agreeing to disagree was not something people should do with a vampire that had seen the world change and people remain the same...
---
It takes three months of living among friends for Josh to see Simon feeding off a person. The vampire is very reserved in his dietary habits, only ever drinking from a cup he keeps separate from everyone else's dishes, and he never really drinks human blood. He purchased a variety of animal blood from the butcher's, often commenting on how unsanitary human blood really is.
"I'd rather not risk catching any blood related diseases, thank you very much." The blond scoffed as he took a sip out if his cup of fish blood. "The high levels of cholesterol would also probably kill me faster than sunlight ever could... I'm an old man, my poor heart can't take it."
Josh has seen him drink pig's blood, cow blood, even snake blood if he had been feeling "fancy", as Simon would put it. But never had he seen him drink any of the types of human blood. Then, three months into his stay, Simon became incredibly sick after drinking a contaminated batch...
He vomits and shivers for days, while Josh helps Markus tend to the miserable vampire's intense fever. North goes to the butcher's to complain and comes back furious when the man doesn't provide so much as an apology or a refund. They help Simon through the sickness and are relieved when he begins recovering.
But then, when Josh walks into his room one day, Simon has this pained distant look as he curls in on himself and clutched his stomach as if he were dying.
He looks deathly pale with darkened (almost black) veins snaking under his waxy skin, and sunken in eyes and cheeks that make him almost look cadaveric. His fangs (which Josh learned are kept within special sheaths like those of venemous snakes) are visible and gleaming in the low lighting of the attic that had been converted into his friend's comfy room. As soon as he locks eyes with Josh, he begins to salivate heavily before whimpering softly.
"I shouldn’t have waited this long…” Simon is shaking from the pain in his empty gut, but also from the amount of control he's trying to maintain over himself. Josh can see that unmistakable predatory need to pounce rolling off his twitching frame. Simon's instincts want him to hunt. Hunt his friend for sustenance. But Simon doesn't want to hurt anyone. He's too kind for that.
Josh can't bare seeing him suffer like that, especially when they don't have any fresh blood to give him.
All three of them (Josh, Markus and North) decide he's suffered enough from food poisoning and donate a portion of their blood, so that Simon may feed and replenish his health properly.
The blond dislikes drinking from people, but the eagerness to drink from their willing veins is more than enough for him to loose at least an ounce of self control.
He practically crashes it Markus when the tan freckled man exposed his neck to him, and sinks his teeth and grips his shoulders hard enough that his sharpened nails break skin. The noises that escape him are almost obscene and Markus becomes flustered as Simon suckles and laps up the warm life giving liquid. He lets go when Markus starts getting woozy and his legs begin to give out, moving on to feed from Josh next.
The sensation is an odd one, intimate even. The werewolf can smell Simon's desperation, and feel his neediness against his skin, before the blond has had his fill and moves on to finish quenching his thirst with a smaller sum from North. They gave more than her, because they were larger and because Josh would heal faster.
Markus is a little weak for a few days after, while Josh bounces back quickly due to his own beastly nature. North promises to give more the next time something like this happens.
Simon is embarrassed about the whole ordeal, but grateful nontheless.
He hopes there won't be a next time, and seeing him so weak and inhuman makes Josh hope the same. Still there's no closer bond than that of letting a loved one feed off your life source.
As odd as that might sound.
#eps writes:#fanfic#detroit: become human#detroit become human#vampire au#werewolf au#dbh simon#dbh josh#dbh markus#dbh north#polycho
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Aniplex Fugou Keiji Livestream | Fugou Keiji 2 | Kitsutsuki 2 - 4 | Arte 3 - 12 (FINAL) | Fruits Basket 27 - 32
During the Millionaire Detective: Unmissable livestream (part of FunimationCon and Aniplex Online Fest), I watched and took notes, so you might find these handy upon retrospect. To be honest, this is how I do the posts for magicalgirlsandcerulean’s livestreams as well, but there hasn’t been one of those in a while...
Otherwise, these are all normal notes.
Aniplex Fugou Keiji Livestream
Look out for the dancer from the OP
Onuki was the model for the dancing for the anime – he was told to do it out of the blue
Episode 11 might have one of these^ be relevant
Daisuke’s cup ramen has shark fin in it and he made the packaging from scratch – that’s why it’s so expensive!
The director Tomohiko Ito omits important information, allowing people to decide for themselves what happened. (Miyano) – This might be why the series is stylish. (MC)
Attractiveness of character design is important! (for adapting Fugou Keiji to modern day)
I’ve never watched a livestream where the stars were so conscious of their English and Chinese audiences! This was interesting, especially because Onuki is not normally known as a VA!
“We still have a little bit of recording to do.”
Fugou Keiji 2
I keep misunderstanding my own instructions…this starts again in July after ep 2.
Todai = Tokyo Daigaku (Uni).
I believe this is the 2nd time I’ve seen a rich person like commoner’s instant noodles, although I forget where I saw the 1stinstance.
Kambe switched to the back seat now, huh?
Ah! Now I remember! The first time was seeing spoilers for this episode on Twitter! (LOL)
I see Suzue has a sensible naming scheme for her data.
Hmm…judging by the Google hits, the name visible in the background (Betbeto bin Abura) is the Arabic prince from last time.
SYN-ACK. I see these guys did their work – that’s the final stage of the 3 stage handshake required for things like internet sockets (used to send “packets” of data).
Way to crash a party, Kambe siblings…(LOL)
I really wanna see someone draw Kato slapping (Daisuke) Kambe in the face with a wad of cash…or a “shut up and take my money” meme with Kambe in it.
I like how “special cup ramen” is on the purchases list and it costs 100000 yen. I also like how the reporter Mita was bought out for 5000000 yen (bigger than all the other individual costs except for buying out the Tower)…that’s how he showed up.
Kitsutsuki 2
I gotta finish this show and then pause it…3 shows in my normal lineup are safe.
Did Kindaichi take the bones of the fish out for Ishikawa…? Like a child would have had done for them?
Why is Ishikawa being referred to as “Hajime”…?
Draw this prostitute like one of your French girls…(LOL?)
Ishikawa clearly dropped those coins into that book earlier.
Way to diss the potential asexuality/celibacy in the house. I mean, it’s the 1800s – early 1900s, so there was less LGBTIQ+ stuff then and certainly the further back you go, the more sexual prowess becomes a sign of masculinity, but still, if the guy doesn’t want to go through with it, don’t force him.
Notice how the borders were pink for Ishikawa’s version and blue for Kindaichi’s.
Notably, Otaki didn’t seem to have that hairpin…but maybe that’s because we saw things from Ishikawa’s perspective.
Ooh…who are these bois? Also, crab.
Kitsutsuki 3
…cat? Now there’s a new perspective. That’s like saying the butler did it.
Yay! Hagiwara is Ume!
Notice Hagiwara’s version has a purple frame, while Yoshii (?) has yellow and another person has dark blue.
I think “consumption” was tuberculosis, once upon a time.
I love how the crowd is fed up with Ishikawa’s bulls***.
Ooh, chuuni Akutagawa…
In a Grove is the Rashomon story.
Tarou Hirai = Rampo Edogawa.
You stalker, future Rampo!
I kinda suspected Otaki when I thought through the possibilities…Ishikawa, Kindaichi, an outsider, Otaki (and as of this ep, Rampo too).
Gaiheikan? Is that Ishikawa and co.’s lodging?
Did they have pencils back in that day?
Kitsutsuki 4
Humouresques.
Kabayaki.
I think it was in Detective Conan that I learnt (one of) the only way(s) a man can get his nails done is by his wife doing it for him, possibly as a prank or to indicate he’s “taken”. Note this was early Detective Conan, so it’s very much a 90s attitude…considering the widespread acceptance of drag queens and the LGBTIQ+ movement these days.
Kozukata.
Lace flower.
Maichou seems to be a hybrid of Asahi Shinbun and Mainichi Shinbun.
[Monkfish/dictionary/going home] - Is this how Ishikawa shows consideration…?
The purple letterrboxing is back but this time with Ishikawa…meaning that’s just an aesthetic thing for all flashbacks after all.
Just from vaguely hearing it (I’ve got the volume on low), the words are nodo tsuki/nodo zuki. “Throat moon/throat wound” works just as well, if not better.
Balsam flower.
Update: Since enough anime fulfilled the special COVID-19 criteria, Kitsutsuki was put on hold after this.
Fruits Basket 2 2 (27)
I’ve read Another, remember?…so I kind of know what happens.
Uo’s got purple nails…that’s surprisingly cute of her.
Aw, Kureno! Another Ume role!
Why is “shisho” (master) not translated…? A weird Tokyopop-era translation quirk?
Aw, Shisho cut his hair…? Bummer.
Who was that? Shigure…?(!) Update: We find out his name later in this ep.
“If you continue to change, I’ll continue to protect you.” – Another quote for the archive.
Great…I feel personally called out by this ep.
Fruits Basket 2 3 (28)
It seems all male designers wear their designs if they have no one else to wear them…at least, that’s what I’ve gathered from Hajime (Runway de Waratte) and Ayame.
I remember Ayame stood in for Yuki’s parents in the manga at one point. This must be it.
(Spoilers for later!) I also remember Mine and Ayame get married at the end…This is the prelude to that.
Dang, Ayame, you moment-ruiner!
Fruits Basket 2 4 (29)
Did anyone in the doorway hear about Hatsuharu turning into an ox?
To quote Sailor Mercury, “Douse yourself in water and repent!”
Ooh, window splitting Yuki and Haru. Nice cinematography going on here.
I bet all people think they only think about themselves, in one way or another.
Arashiyama tofu.
Yatsuhashi are great. They’re these sweet triangle things like samosas that come in various flavours. Mitarashi dango are sticky brown skewered balls of glutinous rice…which I’ve never had, but I’ve seen them in enough anime to know what they are.
I only just realised this, but Yuki’s hairstyle isn’t even on both sides, like Atsushi from BSD’s.
Huh…you can see a copy of Mogeta and Ari (as it turns out, “Ari” is the name of a character and not “ant” at all in this case) on Haru’s bed. There’s also an article in one of the magazines discussing how denim is the popular thing now and which types are in right now.
Fruits Basket 2 5 (30)
I realised Yuki isn’t calling Tohru by her first name – he’s going against Haru’s advice.
Hmm? Why should anyone ask a rabbit to hold their horses…? (LOL)
CGI cars…*sigh*
Tororo is grated yam, IIRC.
I learnt recently that nanban means “savage” or “uncivilised”…for a potato and chicken dish, the name and the contents don’t really match…Update: Nanban means “savage” (noun) or “barbarian”. Close enough.
17-26…age gap 9 years…yikes…
The words “(a happy, yet) caged bird” come to mind when Kureno describes himself. Also, Kureno is an Ume role! Yippee!
Ahh…young love…even if it has a bit of an awkward edge to it. Mind the (age) gap!
Me being the Ume stan, of course I want to hear those sweet nothings in his voice, even if it has to be via a proxy like Uotani…I wouldn’t be an Ume stan if I didn’t.
…Ah, I see. Uotani reminds me of Minare from Wave and vice versa.
Oh, I just remembered Akito is 20 or thereabouts. Kureno/Akito is only a bit more legal than Uotani and Kureno.
Arte 3
Notice Leo never once uses Arte’s name in the lady’s presence. Her name does have some infamy to it, after all.
“She’s got some guts.” – You say that at a live dissection…LOL.
Is this love~? What’s the age gap between Leo and Arte, anyway? Update: We know for sure Arte is older than 13…that’s it.
Make the things you want prominent with perspective and such. I thought that much was obvious, but for someone straightforward like Arte, I guess it ain’t so. (Maybe it’s because I’m self-taught to some degree when it comes to art.)
*sketching by candlelight* - You’re gonna ruin your eyes, Arte!
Arte, ma girl! You’re getting’ a raise! Good job!
Arte 4
Anime makes this courtesan stuff sound like a host club…(?)
I thought Leo was saying “Aria” for a second instead of Arte, LOL. I’m getting too used to that being my alias…
Arte 5
The speech bubble said “so annoying I could die”.
Arte 6
The video’s gone all pixelated…at least, the subs have…
I bet she’s going to fall over…Update: Nup, she didn’t.
Arte 7
I thought Yuri was a Russian name…or a Japanese one.
This is basically Oushitsu Kyoushi Heine all over again! (LOL)
I thought Yuri would be pushy…like, “Here’s an offer you can’t refuse.” That kind of thing. Likewise, I didn’t think Arte would refuse.
Leo? *dun-dun-DUN!*
Siena is apparently in Tuscany. Also, I did see the Silent Manga Audition page had a chapter on a pregnant woman, so this is ch. 17 or thereabouts.
Is Ruthanna not getting the money because she’s pregnant…?
Epidemic? The Black Death?...Speaking of which, Arte is very much of that ganbaru spirit. By being progressive for her time, she becomes ordinary in our time.
Ohhhhhhh! It’s a reverse harem in progress here!...This would be a good otome game, come to think of it. It’s framed the same way.
Leo can be surprisingly childish at times, don’t you think?
Arte 8
…Really? She fell overboard? *raises eyebrow*
Ooh, china (with and without capitalisation).
Is this another sarcastic child…? Oh, bother. Still, I can see why Hamefura crossed over with Arte now…Katarina vs. Catarina!
Arte 9
Bigoli is a type of pasta, as can be guessed from context.
The kanji for the episode title literally translate to “bad child”! Like the Tones and I song, LOL!
Mikata (ally).
Arte 10
This episode is giving off a Katarina x Gimo ship vibe…but with how young they are, I’m not sure I should ship it. They’re 6, aren’t they…?
Oh, you can see Katarina and Sofia’s hug in one of the ED frames.
Arte 11
Arte’s let her hair grow out…
An Italian man…bowed. In Renaissance Italy. Now I understand what all the ANN complaints are for.
What’s up with that kid’s face…? *grumbles*
Leo’s just being Leo, I see.
That’s right, Angelo and Leo never met.
Instead of a father or a brother overly cherishing his daughter, it’s the uncle…I never thought I’d see the day I saw something like that.
Arte 12 (FINAL)
Is this like Orientalism, but with gender…? (What would you call that?)
Lemme guess…Leo is working on the church mural and so he’s away?
Was that Leo, in the middle of the mural somewhere…?
Another Japanese bow in this anime, which is set in Italy.
But where is Arte herself in that mural?
Fine = end.
Fruits Basket 31
The word Momiji is using is “hisso” or something like that. Hissho is secretary, so the translator made it “secret getaway” to make it work.
That hat! *laser stare*
*one of the textbooks has “high school chemistry” on it* Tohru can do chemistry?! I suck at chemistry!
The episode title is translated as “Are you really this stupid?” It seems the real line for that was “Are you an idiot?”
Something about high school girls appeared in my head when Haru mentioned Shigure wanting to see Tohru in her tight swimsuit…*mumbles grumpily about pervs*
Kyo’s not wet, even though he got in the water! Amazing!
I think it’s sad that Tohru responds to “stupid girl” like it’s her own name.
“…that makes you suspect me?” seems better.
The Akito and Shigure age gap is somewhere between 6 and 8 years, IIRC.
Fruits Basket 32
Tohru switched from okaasan (mother) to okattekita (a formal past tense verb meaning either “bought”, “lent” or “won” based on the characters…which I don’t have a reference for). I assume because it was so off the mark, the subbers chose a similarly off the mark word.
“When I was a kid, I thought watermelons would sprout in my stomach if I ate the seeds.”
We only know about Kyo’s dad so far…hmm…what about the mother? Update: (TW: suicide) I think it was at this point we already knew that Kyo’s mother didn’t love him and committed suicide, but it’s not certain until later.
Why do doctors always use scalpels and syringes as weapons…? I mean, even Jakurai’s symbol in ARB is a syringe!
I’ve been wondering…how big is the Sohma family? Is it diluted enough that Haru and Rin can love each other without genetic problems for their child/ren? (From Another, I would say the answer is “yes”, but shoujo normally doesn’t care about this sort of thing, which is why I ask in the first place.)
Shigure seems like the type to say, “U mad, bro?”
The mansion looks like the one in Haruhi Suzumiya, if I remember the appearance of that one correctly.
#simulcast commentary#fugou keiji: balance:unlimited#Millionaire Detective: Balance: Unlimited#Fruits Basket#arte#Kitsutsuki Tantei Dokoro#Woodpecker Detective's Office#Chesarka watches Arte#Chesarka watches Fugou Keiji#Chesarka watches Furuba
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Just popping by and asking because I'm curious about your self ship with Giovanni. How did you both meet? :3
Ooh, I love this story! Though I had it only bare-bones before...this ask inspired me to sit on it and think through more of the details! So now I have a little more of that.
First of all, it doesn’t exactly follow the storyline of this song, but I just discovered it last night and I was STRUCK by how fitting it was for this whole ship, so give it a listen while reading this. Also, this got LONGER THAN I EXPECTED I’M SO SORRY
So. Here’s me: Rachel Scribere. Absolute mundie. Wants to be Inscribed, but that’s just not my life. Also wants to move up in the publishing industry, since she loves writing (mostly fanfiction, but let’s not tell the world that). And good news! A suburb outside Sweet Jazz City is hiring for a small local paper! Better than nothing, right? So I move from my small town into the heart of the city, scraping up for a cheap apartment so I can get started at work.
And it’s Hell.
My boss? Racist, homophobic, Lexist, and thinks I’m annoying. This job is slowly killing me, but I think it’s my only shot. If I lose it, I lose the apartment, I have to move back in with my parents, I have to let everyone down. Not to mention I haven’t made any friends yet in this city...surely my co-workers can’t be as bad as I think, right? They’ll be my pals eventually, right?
In the throes of depression, feeling absolutely no worth, I’m left to watch the office one day while the others are out. At a “business lunch” without me. Because I’m not in their inner circle yet, and probably will never be. I’m just trying to do some menial task they haven’t trained me how to do properly, nearly crying because it’s just not working and I know they’re gonna come back and be mad with how little I got done.
When the wall blows open.
“THERE’S NOWHERE LEFT TO RUN, [SUBURB] HERITAGE MUSEUM! FOR YOU HAVE BECOME THE NEXT TARGET OF THE BANZAI BLASTERS, AND THEIR PEERLESS LEADER, GIOVANNI POTAGE!”
When the dust clears, we’re trying to work out what, exactly, just happened.
He tried to rob a heritage museum in this suburb...and showed up at the wrong fucking building.
So he’s just all “Oh. So that’s why I’m the only one who showed up. Caaaan we just forget this ever happened? OKAYTHANKSBYE” and peaces out.
Well, I’m just about done, because our office got blown up and I still haven’t done my job and this is gonna be on my head and I just kinda fall on the floor and start crying. (Look, I know this isn’t the most headstrong start, but it’s my fantasy and I wanna be rescued from despair!)
When Giovanni WALKS RIGHT BACK IN to ASK ME FOR DIRECTIONS TO THE ACTUAL MUSEUM -
And witnesses me having a breakdown. “Hey...you, uh...you okay there?”
Well, now I’m mad at him for fucking up my life, because I am SO fired, so I get up and start sobbing and screaming at him how this is gonna be seen as my fault, and how this was already so horrible and it’s just so much worse now, but I launch into how little I was valued and Giovanni interrupts to express disbelief that my bosses didn’t take the time to help me catch up and feel welcome. After all, aren’t bosses supposed to treat their minions with love and respect?
Well, that’s when said bosses come back to the office. And they let me HAVE it.
Giovanni is miffed for two reasons. One, that they’re ragging on their precious minion (me) when that’s not something anyone should ever do, not ever! Two, that by going all “SCRIBERE. WHAT...DID...YOU...DO?”, they are totally stripping him of the cred of having made that bombastic entrance. He’s supposed to be the villain here, okay? Know his name! Fear it!
A great big argument ensues, with Giovanni defending this poor “newspaper minion” he just met and me not knowing what to say and my bosses trying to chase this crazy supervillain wannabe out of their office. And as Giovanni starts rattling off how much I deserve better and I’d be better off just quitting and being a villain...I get the impulsive idea. Hey, why not? At least I might feel alive.
So I stand up and make the decision for myself. I’m quitting. Effective now. And becoming an actual villain because I’m tired of adulting. SEE YA!
And I walk out.
Only to realize, a couple blocks away, that I have just thrown out my only financial lifeline.
Cue breakdown #2.
Now, Giovanni, he hasn’t gone love-at-first-sight for me or anything. But he does know a sad minion when he sees one, and he sort of has it in his head this is kiiiiiinda his fault, so he tails me to make sure I’m okay (which I’m not). And, I mean, a professional villain isn’t who I expected to be venting to, but he’s all I’ve got, so when he says he’ll listen, I just let it all out.
Giovanni has a great idea: I could join the Banzai Blasters with him! To which I utterly refuse. I mean, everyone knows it’s a pyramid scheme at this point, right? No one would join without being fully aware of that. (Gio: ”Heheh...yeah...I mean, I definitely knew that when I signed on, but that just means they’re legit bad guys...”)
But then he gets a BETTER idea! What if I’m an independent contractor villain? I keep the spoils of my own heists! He even thinks he remembers the name of some appraiser in the Blaster handbook that could help me get a foothold in the black market! I just need to steal some stuff to get startup capital, and hey, no one said I couldn’t tag along with the Blaster squad and take some of the spoils, like the awesome cursed swords we’re gonna find at the museum! (Me: “...What do you think the heritage museum is actually for?”) After all, the Blasters’ success is more based on clout and rank than the actual things they walk away with. No one will notice if one or two nice things goes missing! Not to mention, if I’m not an official Blaster, I get to pick my OWN uniform!
I’m desperate. And you know what? This...sounds like fun. What if I just said “fuck it”? So I agree. (And mentally plan out a potential blue-and-black aesthetic for my villain career.)
I also agree to give Giovanni a ride over there, since he is seriously NOWHERE NEAR THE MUSEUM.
En route, since it’s my car, he gets to hear one of my car mixes (IRL I make killer car mixes that make riding in my car like playing Russian Roulette - you could get rock, you could get emo, you could get trashy pop, you could get video game music, or you could just get a meme). And so he learns about my music taste. He also starts grilling me on my life - what do I do for fun? Well, I...write. They’re not really publishable stories, but...
Giovanni: “It’s fanfiction, isn’t it?” Me: “GOD DAMMIT”
He also asks my name. Which he hates, because he graduated with seven Rachels, and I can’t blame him, because I graduated with four others.
We finally get to the museum and the rest of the squad has been waiting for like an hour. They know he got lost but aren’t about to bring it up. Giovanni announces that he’s bringing a friend today and I get to help out.
Now, it’s worth noting at this point that I noticed he was QUITE A HANDSOME FELLA from the moment he walked into the room through the hole he blew in the wall, and his quirks are exactly My Type. So I’m already starting to crush on him. But I am well aware that should NOT be ANY sort of priority right now. As for me? He just sees me as a new villain buddy! (He develops feelings for me later, at which point he’s horrified because “I WASN’T SUPPOSED TO HAVE A FAVORITE MINION!”.)
The other Blasters are just like “Okay, cool” because it’s really not strange at this point for Giovanni to pick up a stray (”How do you think we got Flamethrower?”). Ben is excited because now he’s not the only one who doesn’t have a cool minion name, but now Giovanni wants to give me one to spite Ben. “Hmm...let’s see...you’re a writer, so...Storyteller? Chronicler? No...oh, wait! You also like all that weird music! What about COMPOSER? See, it’s a double meaning, because it’s a music thing, but also, you COMPOSE stories...you...you get it? It’s wordplay.”
Composer. I like it. In return, even though Giovanni’s technically not my boss, I agree to call him Boss. (”And really, I may not be your boss legally, but I want you to think of me as a boss in your heart.”)
And we have FUN clearing out the museum. It’s a Sunday, so it’s closed and no one’s actually there, so we just have the run of the place. I get to take back a couple artifacts that Sweet Jazz history buffs on the black market will love.
At the end of the day, Giovanni is all excited for this new partnership, and he’s talking up how he’s going to meet up with me tomorrow to get my stuff appraised - can he have my number? Just to keep in touch? - and I have to discreetly drop him back off at the newspaper office so he can collect his Vespa and drive home. (Look. I know he does not, in canon, drive a Vespa. But he gives me the exact energy of someone who drives a Vespa, so in this ‘verse, he has one. Just rollin’ down the road like he’s on a motorcycle when it’s a fuckin’ scooter that just goes very fast)
Before I drop him off, though, he asks me if they’re gonna kick me out of my place due to me not having a paycheck that day. See, he doesn’t exactly understand how rent works. I assure him I have a due date. He tells me that I can totally crash at his and his mom’s place if I want; he’ll bug his mom into making up the guest room. Apparently she’ll be happy that he’s made more actual friends.
I joke that she would probably be fazed that he brought a girl home. He says that’s never been a concern. “Oh. Not into girls?” “No, I am. And guys. And a couple who weren’t either. The thing is, if my mom was gonna ban everyone I COULD end up being attracted to, she’d have to ban...EVERYONE. And then I wouldn’t be allowed to have ANY friends over.”
I drop him off, go back home...and hit breakdown #3.
What was I fucking thinking? I can’t be a supervillain. Especially not an independent contractor. I’m on the wrong side of the law for a living. This isn’t going to turn a profit...and that’s not even taking into account the trouble I’ll get in with the heat. I’m having anxiety, shakes, nausea, the whole works. Starting to think this isn’t worth it. Maybe starting to feel a little suicidal.
Crawl into bed. Barely sleep. Drag myself out of bed the next day to rendez-vous with Giovanni.
Just seeing him makes me feel...slightly better. He and I head off to a hidden locale to briefly confer with Ramsey Murdoch over my finds. (”Just don’t look him directly in the gross rat face.”)
Ramsey informs me I actually have some valuable stuff on my hands, recommends some buyers, makes an offhand joke about us being a “cute couple” that goes right over Giovanni’s head.
This doesn’t do much to reassure me. I still feel empty. Hollow. Afraid. But Giovanni, he SENSES this on the drive home. He can also tell I put in one of my most upbeat dance mixes to cover the sadness. So he pesters me until I tell him how I really feel...
And he refuses to leave me alone all day because a good boss doesn’t leave a minion who’s feeling that down on herself.
We end up back at his place. Start out by watching movies. I have to put up with him and his mom yelling at each other, but Ms. P. switches on a dime around me - “So glad you’re here, Sweetie. Giovanni could use more good friends like you. Good influences who will tell him NOT TO PUT HIS FEET ON THE LIVING ROOM TABLE GOD DAMMIT HOW MANY TIMES DO I HAVE TO GO OVER THIS WITH YOU GIOVANNI anyway, Rachel, can I get you anything? A drink? Some popcorn? Since MY RUDE SON DIDN’T ASK WHAT HIS GUEST WANTED WHEN SHE CAME OVER but you name it and I’ll get it for you.”
I’m still depressed. I cuddle up in a blanket. It’s hand-knitted. I mention that it’s super comfy. Giovanni takes it as a compliment, revealing that he made it himself. This leads to him parading a bunch of things he’s knitted in front of me - scarves, hats, etc. And I love every one of them. Oh, no, I am falling for this man and am also still depressed.
We end the day by plotting out my new villain attire. He’s good at sketching out patterns for clothes, so I give him an aesthetic to go for - blue, corset lacing, asymmetrical skirt, off-the-shoulder, is this too Disney villain?, you know what I don’t care, hey, that looks great! (Eventually he actually helps me put that monstrosity together)
He sticks around. I gradually become more confident in my element, making sales, stealing more things, getting comfortable with THE VILLAIN LIFE, actually turning up a profit because Ramsey knows where the market is and is glad to show me, and hanging out with the Blasters on a regular basis in an abandoned library we’ve taken over as our lair (Giovanni says the word “Lair-brary” once and immediately regrets it and asks us all to forget he ever combined those syllables).
And I’m happy. Finally.
Then one day, in the library lair that is not a Lair-brary, there’s some shenanigan and a bookshelf almost falls on me and crushes me and Giovanni tackles me out of the way because THAT’S WHAT ANY DECENT VILLAIN BOSS WOULD DO FOR HIS PRECIOUS MINIONS and oh. Oh my God. If I didn’t have a crush on this man before, I LOVE him now. Oh, no. Oh, no... ;-)
That’s pretty much the origin story. I’m still kind of nursing the idea of doing an AU version of this in TBTC, and I would probably still wanna use “busts into WRONG PLACE, sees Rachel being mistreated, takes her to rob a place to feel better,” and I hope it’s not tacky to copy the same device. But yeah, I hope that wasn’t the 15 minutes of your life you’ll never get back
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John Wick x Reader: Start of Something New (4)
A/N: Thanks for the continuous support, guyths! 😍 This is really making me happy, like super happy! 😆 I know the story was a little angst-y in a way, but I also try my best that the reader becomes patient and understanding.
Enjoy this one! What do you think will happen next? 😊
(FYI: I still don’t own the GIF. My internet connection is so slow that I can’t access the GIFs section of Tumblr so I go to Google instead.)
⇇ CHAPTER 1
⟸ CHAPTER 3
CHAPTER 4
One week... That’s how long John had been going out of the hotel and coming back either bruised or with broken body parts. He still hasn’t told you the reasons behind his ‘personal’ business. Whenever he gets serious injuries, a doctor would come in the room and patch him up. You knew basic bandaging and first aid, but stitching a wound was not in your skill set. Afterwards, you would notice that John would hand something to the doctor and the latter would gently pat John’s uninjured shoulder and leave. You didn’t attempt to infer him of any of his business. You would just recheck his condition to which he was really grateful for and just offer him anything that he would request (which he never did).
Two days later, he informed you that he would be going out... again. You couldn’t take it anymore. You mustered the confidence to ask his whereabouts.
“Where are you going this time?”
He didn’t answer as he put his coat suit on. You demanded further, “You promised that you’ll tell me everything. But almost a week has passed and all I got are your job and my safety. What are you exactly doing, John? What are you planning? You just leave me here all alone and then when you come back here, you look like crap. I just...” You exhaled tiredly. “I just want to know what you’re up to. What if I get news that you’re already dead? I’m just worried.”
He affixed his coat as he peered at you. He opened his mouth and finally imparted, “Those men who intruded the house and killed Daisy? One of them is the son of the Russian mob leader whom I helped before I met Helen. He was the one who initiated stealing the car and killing Daisy.”
Your eyes widened, knowing immediately what he was preparing on doing. “You’re going to take his life...”
He didn’t take his eyes away from you as if he was searching something in you. His expression was stoic, but you can decipher his thoughts. Only one thing came to mind: revenge.
He was doing this out of retribution because he felt like everything and everyone he loved was being taken away from him. Well, he probably still has you, yet Helen will always be his first.
For your own morality, you acknowledged (and everyone does, too) that terminating one’s life is completely wrong. If you’re religious, that’s a major sin and you’ll go to Hell for it. In the eyes of the law, that’s equivalent to years of imprisonment.
Still, you can’t help having thoughts that the murderer of your dog deserves an actual retribution coming to him. He shouldn’t have killed Daisy. He shouldn’t have messed with John Wick AT ALL.
‘Yes, he deserves what’s coming to him. Putting Daisy to death was like losing Helen all over again,’ you thought. It was bad to think this way, but you have the right to have your peace of mind. Letting the dog killer roam free was unacceptable.
You nasally breathed in and out of air with closed eyes then opened them. “Just come back here with no injuries this time. I hate seeing so much blood on your clothes,” you sounded sarcastic and serious at the same time.
John ghosted a smirk, which you missed. “I’ll try to be careful.”
With that, he moved to the closet and took at least two guns and some ammos. He hid them well in his suit and belt.
He took a glimpse at you again and just inclined his head down then up as a form of saying that he was to leave and be back after he conducted his business. As he opened the door, you spoke,
“John, wait!” You jogged closer to him and gave him a long peck on his cheek. “Be careful, I mean it.”
He caressed yours. “I won’t take long.”
He finally left... again.
***
You were folding your clothes as well as John’s. You checked the old-fashioned clock on the wall and it was already time for dinner. You went to the telephone just between your beds and called the reception. You lifted the phone to your ear and there was no long sound to be heard from it. You tried to dial the numbers and it was still quiet. You attempted to fix the line, but when you put it on your ear again, there was still nothing.
You heavily sighed. You have no choice. You’ll have to get out of the room and go to the reception yourself. You grabbed your purse (just in case since everything you need were in it) and exited the room.
You reached the reception desk and the same bald and dark-skinned man was there. You smiled at him and he gave a small one to you.
“Miss, with all due respect, Mr Wick informed me that you shouldn’t leave your room,” he pointed out straightforwardly and nonchalantly.
You blinked your eyes. “Did he?”
“Please go back to your room,” he instructed you with regard.
You suppressed the urge to make a face so you just puckered your lips in disappointment. “Fine. Either way, I didn’t come here to really get out of the room. I just want to tell you that our telephone isn’t working and to order food.”
The concierge tilted his head down. “I’ll let someone fix your room telephone right now.” He tapped onto something then looked at you again. “You may go back to your room and make your order from there.”
You squinted. “Can’t I just order here first then go back to the room?”
“I am asked not to let you out of the room. I am only doing a favor.”
You raised your hands in defense. “Alright, alright. I understand.”
When you turned to leave, your feet didn’t move upon seeing another familiar figure. A dark browned slicked hair and emerald-colored eyes that previously winked at you was focused on you, but never intimidating; more of an intrigued look. Your memory of his smirk was still intact in your brain. He was that same man whom you offered your beam simply because you were anxious and kind-hearted.
He approached you with his hands in the pockets of his dark blue tight-styled slack pants. “John Wick’s assistant,” he addressed you in that manner since he actually didn’t know your name. His voice was deep and silvery. He had a British accent in him.
“Um, h-hi,” you stuttered.
He laughed quietly and amusingly. “Funny, I’ve been here for almost a week and I’ve only seen you for the second time.”
“Second time?” you prompted, acting a little stupid. Of course you knew what he was referring to.
He chuckled again. “Oh, come on. Don’t tell me you smiling at me when you first checked in here was not our first time meeting. Though, it was true that we didn’t talked at that time. But again, gazing at each other was like the first time.”
You feigned a grin. “Oh, that! My memory of small details can be quite bad.”
He raised a brow mirthfully. “I didn’t think that was a small detail for you. Well, I guess I can understand since you’re a cleaner. And John Wick’s personal one at that.”
“Right...” you drawled. You didn’t even comprehend what he meant by that.
“You know,” he pressed on. It appeared like he wasn’t just going to let you go anytime soon. “We should grab a drink at the bar and, you know, try to get to know one another.”
You tried to find an excuse. “Maybe... another time. Jo- Mr Wick wants me to do some things for him.”
He was insistent. “Come now, you have to lighten up a little. I’m pretty sure you can get tired of him.”
Truth to be told, you were getting tired of him; tired of being left alone all the time. Of course, you wouldn’t tell this guy about that.
You were about to hurl back at his invitation when he spoke first. “I actually find it peculiar that he’s even back. Last I heard, he retired.”
You gulped unnoticed. You knew about that part, too.
“In any case, so? Would you like a drink? It’s going to be on me.”
You wanted an out of this situation. You felt like no matter how many rejections you give he wouldn’t take ‘no’ for an answer.
“I-I-“
“Mr Fortuna.”
Both of you diverted your attentions to the concierge who was now standing regally a few inches away from you. He continued, “There are some matters that need to be discussed privately with you.”
The other man groaned. “Can that wait?”
“No, sir, it cannot. Can you please follow me?”
Mr Fortuna sighed quite irately. He then eyed you sadly. “Sorry, love, but business calls, as much as I hate this.”
You mentally puffed out a relief and feigned disappointment. “No, no, it’s fine. We’re all busy.”
“Jacob Fortuna,” he finally introduced himself and offered his hand for a shake.
“(Y/n).” You clasped your petite one in his. You kept your last name a secret for now.
“Lovely name.” He gave a chaste kiss at the back of your hand and strode to the concierge.
When you locked eyes on the concierge, he just inclined his head down. You were aware of the meaning and stared at him briefly before going back to your room.
***
Shoot. Shoot here, shoot there, shoot left then right and vice versa.
Crack and crash.
He finally located Iosef Tarasov. That bastard had been a stroke of bad luck to him. He shouldn’t even have touched the car especially the dog.
That spoiled Tarasov brat shouldn’t even have messed with John Wick. Helen was the love of his life who died of cancer and that puppy (and even the car) was the only memory he had of her. It was a fortunate thing that you were kept safe. He had to do everything in his power to keep you out of harm’s way as you were the only one left to keep his sanity. He’ll even go through lengths of killing if your security would be threatened. And as long as that Iosef lives, you will never find peace and there will be no justice for Daisy’s death.
More shooting. And now, splintering bones happened. Iosef was still running for his life, obviously terrified to face the most professional assassin. Too many bodyguards coming right at said assassin, but not one bit that he faltered except when he got shot twice, one in his right shoulder and the other in his left abdomen. Yet again, his adrenaline of wanting to reach Iosef and permanently finish him off was high enough that he didn’t even feel the pain coursing through him.
The chase was cut, though, as Tarasov’s head of security showed up and was a tough cookie to handle. He finally felt the pain in his shoulder and abdomen injuries, blood already staining his dress shirt.
It didn’t matter, anyway, as he warned Iosef upon calling Victor’s, who was already dead, phone to which he grabbed,
“Everything has a price.”
---
CHAPTER 5 ⟹
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The only place he doesn’t feel alone is the moment after a goal at home. An entire city’s roar of approval, his teammates crashing into him, ecstatic shouts lost in a blur of sound that hits his chest like a blow.
The rest of the time, all Zhenya can seem to feel is the ways he’s disconnected from everything else, English a yammering cadence he fishes scraps of meaning from like an exhausted prospector.
I’m smart in Russian, he wants to tell them, when his coach raises his voice to him like he’s talking to a child, or when he teammates snigger at whatever mismash of words that just came from his mouth. I’m funny, in Russian. I’m all kinds of things.
His own teammates don’t mean it in a cruel way. He sees mostly amusement or confusion in their eyes, and they clap him on the back and invite him to eat with them with elaborate pantomimes that make his cheeks burn with embarrassment but also make him grateful. That they keep trying at all.
They have a reason to keep him happy, he supposes. He’s got the hope of the franchise laid heavy across his shoulders. The twenty-one year old Russian kid who defected to play for Super Mario, to try and drag the Penguins back from the brink.
Other teams, though? They’re nothing if not vicious. He knows enough English to understand just how bitter the vitriol spewed at him is. The better his hockey is, the worse it gets. He screams at them in return, the darkest curses he knows, and seethes when they just laugh. It’s just noise to them.
He can hold his rage back, most of the time. He fucking better, because he’s always angry on the ice these days.
But sometimes.
Like tonight. The NHL-sized ice is feeling particularly small, the insults thrown his way particularly scathing. They’re down by one. He’s just bought a house, and there’s nothing but too-empty rooms and a cold bed waiting for him when the game’s over.
“ Fucking big dumb --, go home to Russia” is spit from a gap-toothed mouth, and he sees red. He barely gets his gloves off before he’s on the guy, whaling at him, the hapless asshole taking the form of all the myriad of hurts and frustrations he’s been facing.
He’s hit in return but he barely notices the stinging blows, doesn’t hear the whistle from the ref, or the bloodthirsty howling of the arena crowd.
He’s so lost in it that when a hand grabs his arm and yanks, he automatically throws his elbow back as hard as he can. There’s a sickening crunch, and a gutteral “uh!” and he half-turns only for his rage to drain from him as quickly as it came, leaving him shaky and sick. Fuck, he elbowed the fucking ref.
The ref’s down on one knee on the ice, holding onto his face, blood pouring from beneath his fingers. Zhenya stands over him, not sure what to do. The arena’s even louder now, and the other ref and the linesmen have arrived, and one of them’s grabbed his jersey to tow him to the box.
The ref he punched looks up, and all Zhenya can register besides blood is that he’s fucking young, Zhenya’s age or even younger. Zhenya didn’t know you could be an official that young. The ref swipes the back of his hand under his wrecked nose, and smiles. Fucking smiles, as if in reassurance.
As Zhenya is chivvied to the box, he keeps twisting around, trying to see if the ref gets up, how hurt he is.
Zhenya doesn’t like hurting people. He gets angry, but he doesn’t enjoy any part of it.
Guilt sits heavy and cold in his stomach. For punching the ref, for the disastrous penalty kill his team is forced to endure.
For the game itself, which they lose by three.
***
He gets a deserved dressing down from Coach Therrien, with Sergei pulled in to translate just so that Coach can get across how astronomically stupid Zhenya has been. He hunches his shoulders and takes it.
Coach ends his diatribe and eyes Zhenya coldly. “Back-to-back games. Let’s see you try and fucking get your head straight for tomorrow night.”
It’s late when Zhenya finally is able to leave the arena. There’s a cold, sharp wind blowing across the parking lot, and his hands fumble with his keys.
When he starts the car, his heart sinks at the idea of going home, alone. Not yet. He doesn't want to go home yet. Not feeling this low. He doesn’t want to bring this miasma of self-recrimination home.
He doesn’t have a lot of options this late. But there’s a little cafe two blocks from the arena, that stays open late. He’ll go and get something to drink, sit under the fluorescents and try to…
He doesn’t know what.
***
The cafe is quiet. There are a couple guys at a table near the window and a tired barista, but that’s it. Zhenya comes here fairly often and the he knows how to order black tea with milk and sugar in it. He practiced.
He leans against the counter, feeling exhaustion settle in his bones.
“Rough night?” the barista askes. She has tattoos and a nose ring and doesn’t seem to recognize him. “What ——- to your face?” She gestures at him.
Zhenya touches his cheekbone, which feels tender and hot. Probably bruised. He shrugs.
“Must be ———- going around,” she says with a laugh and a gesture towards the table of guys by the window. “You’re the ———- dude to come in here with a ———- face.”
Zhenya glances over his shoulder, and freezes. He’s not sure, not out of the striped shirt and black helmet, if it’s the ref he hit. How many guys can there be wandering around near Mellon Arena with bandaged noses in the middle of the night, though?
He feels a fresh wave of guilt. He’s wondering what to do, if he should go over and apologize, when the barista calls out (unnecessarily, he feels): “Large black tea for G?”
One of the guys glances up, does a double take, then whacks the shoulder of the guy with the bandaged nose so that he turns around. Zhenya stands there with his tea, unable to move. He feels his face flush with embarrassment.
It’s him, it has to be. Zhenya can see his eyes from here, the same clear, bright color he remembers from the ice. His black hair curls over his forehead and he has startlingly red lips, pretty as a girl’s.
Zhenya swallows, and makes himself move forward. Maybe apologizing will make him feel better.
He feels like he’s looming over their table, and he instinctively pulls his shoulders in, trying to take up less space, to make himself smaller.
“Sorry,” he manages. “For hit face. Not try to do.”
For all his nose is bandaged and swollen, the ref is still good-looking, and his smile is kind.
“I know,” he says. “I know how things get ———. Guy was ——— for you all night. Between you and me, he kinda ———- that punch.”
Zhenya blinks. He didn’t get all of that but the ref’s tone was sympathetic and commiserating. He fidgets with the cardboard sleeve of his to-go cup.
“Nose okay?” he asks. “Broke?”
“It’s not great?” the guy says, laughing a little, before wincing at the way it moves his nose. “I’ll be okay.”
“Should you two ——- be talking?” One of the guys at the table says. “We’re gonna ———the game tomorrow too, you know.”
The pretty ref shrugs. “Won’t tell if you won’t,” he tells Zhenya. He tugs out the unoccupied chair next to him. “Want to sit for a second?” His tone is a little anxious, overly casual, like he’s expecting Zhenya to say no. But Zhenya looks at the odd, hopeful light in his eyes and the gentle curve of his half-smile, and sits.
And that is now Zhenya ends up sitting in a cafe at 12:14 at night, drinking tea with the referees and linesmen of the game he just lost.
“Oh my god, Sid,” one of them says, and rolls his eyes at Zhenya’s ref. But Zhenya’s ref just flips his collegue off and turns to face Zhenya.
“I’m Sidney,” he says, offering his hand to shake.
“Evgeni,” Zhenya says, somehow wanting to hear his own name on those lips, not the nickname his agent had foisted upon him.
“Yev-geni,” Sidney repeats quietly, then smiles and introduces Zhenya to the other officials. Zhenya doesn’t bother to try and retain their names, but he nods politely at them in turn. They’re all a lot older than Sidney and he wonders again at his age.
“You…” he falters, not sure of the word. “Not old. Why?”
“You calling us old, ———?” one of the other officials sputters, and Zhenya flinches at the laughter. Sidney doesn’t laugh, just smiles again, still kindly.
“He’s a damn ———-” one of the older guys says, clapping Sidney on the shoulder. “Sid the kid. ————- referee in the ———- of the NHL.” There’s more laughter, and some chirping directed at Sid that Zhenya doesn’t catch.
Sidney rolls his eyes. “Don’t listen to them,” he tells Zhenya.
“Don’t worry,” Zhenya tells him. “Can’t understand English, so easy not hear stupid.” Sidney’s eyes widen and he practically cackles, eyes sparkling green and gold at Zhenya over his poor bandaged nose.
“That would be ——-” Sidney says, and his laughter doesn’t make Zhenya feel set apart. He laughs like Zhenya’s in on the joke.
“For fuck’s sake,” one of the linesmen says. “Keep it in your pants, Sid.” Sidney turns red and looks down at the table. Zhenya decides he doesn’t like the guy much.
Sidney mutters something noncommittal, and Zhenya has a ridiculous, sudden impulse to touch him. A hand on his shoulder or a nudge with his foot. Or.
Well. He’s very beautiful.
Sidney catches Zhenya’s gaze, and makes a wry face, wrinkling his nose and then flinching.
“Sorry,” Zhenya says again, softly, just for Sid to hear. The other guys are already talking amongst themselves.
“Not the first time I’ve been hit in the face doing this, won’t be the last,” Sid says, and shrugs. “Part of the job.”
Zhenya wants to ask him about that, about how he became a ref at such a young age. He wants to ask him all kinds of things, but he feels afraid of his poor English. He has the strangely sure feeling that Sid would be kind about it, and yet.
Before he makes his excuses and leaves, he takes a risk. He pulls off the cardboard sleeve of his drink, and covertly uses one of his omnipresent Sharpies to scrawl his cell number on it, hidden under the table where the others can’t see. He slides it into Sid’s palm.
Sid jumps, then looks down at his hands, then blushes. Deeply. The shy look he gives Zhenya makes Zhenya feel warm and light, and he walks out of the cafe feeling better than he has in weeks.
***
So, your number, huh? Is waiting on his phone when he gets home.
Can translate on phone he answers. Talk more.
I have no idea if this is a ———- of ———— Sidney responds.
Zhenya looks up “conflict” and “interest,” and his heart sinks. Like you he confesses. There’s a pause.
I like you too Sidney replies, and Zhenya lets out a whoop that echoes through his empty foyer.
I’m still going to —— your ass to the box if you pull any bullshit Sidney says, but adds a smiling emoji.
Fine)))) Zhenya sends back. No penalty play best
😄Sidney sends back.
The game the following night is without major incident. Zhenya is only a little distracted by Sidney’s powerful, tireless skating and his revelation of an ass in those black referee slacks.
Zhenya is self aware enough to know he’s a show-off, and he nets two goals in his effort to impress Sidney. He searches for him over the shoulders of his teammates during the celly for his second goal. Sidney glides by, a smile playing about his lips.
Zhenya feels elated about more than the goal.
***
The shut-out win and the fact that they have a rest day tomorrow means that the team wants to go out. Zhenya’s all for it. He loves dancing. And nobody expects scintillating conversation in a club, anyway.
We go club tonight he sends to Sidney. You come
Forgetting the question mark sounds a little pushy, he realizes too late. He doesn’t expect Sidney to agree, but wonder of wonders, he does.
Ok he sends. I can’t dance but it —— be fun.
Might be? Zhenya’s going to make sure it is.
***
Even though Sidney said he’d come, Zhenya isn’t quite sure he will until he gets a text that he’s in line. Zhenya goes to fetch him and Sidney rolls his eyes at Zhenya walking him past the velvet ropes with a nod to the bouncer.
“Mr. Bigshot, huh?” Sidney laughs, and Zhenya grins back at him, feeling shivery with excitement .
“Yes, am most big,” he says innocently, just to watch Sid blush deep red and try to act like he doesn’t notice the innuendo.
Zhenya snickers. His English is shit but not that shit.
Zhenya goes to get Sidney a drink, but Sidney shakes his head. “I’m only twenty,” he half-yells over the throb of the music. “I can’t drink here yet.” Zhenya gives him a look. Not like being underage stopped Zhenya last year, but Sid holds firm. “A Coke, please,” he tells the bartender. The insistence on following the rules paired with the cute, stubborn set of his jaw is too much. Zhenya wants to wreck him.
Sidney sips at his Coke while Zhenya leans into his space and tries to follow his stream of talk, with only limited success. He gives up after a while and just ends up staring at Sidney’s lips, watching them purse around his words.
He realizes with a start that they’ve stopped moving. He quickly brings his gaze back up but Sidney is silently staring at him, his eyes dark and inscrutable under the neon wash of the club lights.
Carefully, deliberately, Sidney sets down his glass. Zhenya moves even closer, so that Sidney has to tilt his head back a little to look at him. Sidney seems to weigh his options for a long, excruciating moment, then inclines his head towards the dance floor.
Zhenya grins.
***
He doesn’t need English to pull Sidney into the darkest corner of the club, and doesn’t need English to understand the way his mouth falls open when Zhenya settles his hands on Sidney’s hips, pulling him too close to leave any doubts as to what he wants. To understand what it means when Sidney turns to lean back into his chest and let his head fall onto Zhenya’s shoulder.
Zhenya doesn’t need English to tug him into a cab with him, to take him home, to suck possessive bruises into his pale skin.
To understand his own name cried out in ecstasy when Sidney comes.
***
The next morning, Zhenya wakes up and just watches Sidney for a while. He looks so good in Zhenya’s bed, all smooth, pale muscle and tousled dark curls. He gives in to the tenderness welling up in his throat and presses a line of gentle kisses up Sidney’s spine to his shoulders.
Sidney stirs, and mumbles something unintelligible before blinking his eyes open. Zhenya can see the moment his brain wakes up enough to register where he is and remember what they did last night. A spike of fear goes through him. He doesn’t want to see that look turn into regret, or disgust.
He rolls them, and plasters himself to Sidney, burying his face in the join of his neck and shoulder. Hiding his face. Please, he wants to say. Don’t wish we hadn't done this. Don’t leave me even emptier than I was.
He feels Sidney reach up to card his fingers softly though Zhenya’s hair. “Good morning,” he says, voice sleep rough, tone soothing, as though he can understand that Zhenya’s upset about something. They stay like that for a long moment, Sid still stroking Zhenya’s hair, Zhenya still afraid to look up.
When Zhenya finally raises his face, Sidney smiles at him. Soft, and warm. Zhenya’s insides feel achy. He wants to wake up to that smile again.
“You okay?” Sidney asks.
“Feel bad?” Zhenya says.
Sidney frowns a little. “No. You?”
“No,” Zhenya says emphatically. “You like?”
“The sex?” Sidney asks. “Sex with you?” At Zhenya’s nod, he reaches out to touch Zhenya’s face. Zhenya leans into his palm like a cat. He’s not sure what’s wrong with him. It’s like he’s starving for touch.
“It was awesome,” Sidney says, then blushes, which is hilarious, as they’re both naked together in bed.
Zhenya lets out a long, shuddering sigh, and with it a lot of the tension he’d been feeling. He snuggles back down into Sidney.
Sidney laughs. “You’re not what I expected.” But he throws an arm around Zhenya’s shoulders to pull him even closer. “ ———- ————-,” he says affectionately, and gropes one-handedly for his phone when Zhenya makes a confused noise.
“Прижиматься монстр,” Google Translate informs him, and Zhenya snorts. Well. A weird way to put things, but not inaccurate. He’s reveling in how Sidney is letting himself be held. Zhenya’s had a lot of partners that haven’t liked his octopus tendencies but Sid doesn’t seem to mind at all.
“My flight is at noon,” Sidney says, stroking a hand down Zhenya’ back, then back up to tangle through the hair at Zhenya’s nape. He sounds regretful.
“We do again?” Zhenya asks. “Text? Talk on Skype?” Too much, he thinks. Too much, too fast. But he doesn’t want to let Sidney go.
Sidney hums. “If you want. I know you have to be careful. But, uh. I. I really like you?”
Zhenya raises himself up on his elbows, so he can look at Sidney’s face. There’s that blush, again.
“Yes,” Zhenya says fervently. “Yes, yes, yes.” He punctuates his words with kisses until Sidney is laughing and even redder than before.
***
Zhenya sends him off at the door with a travel mug of coffee. He takes smug satisfaction at the Pens logo emblazoned across it.
Sid kisses his cheek, then just looks at him, as if he wants to commit Zhenya to memory, ratty sleep pants and bedhead included.
“I’ll be back in Pittsburgh next month,” Sidney promises, and Zhenya feels happy enough to burst.
***
Two hours later, he gets a text from Sidney: a photo of the plane’s wing as it sits on the runway, then a screenshot of Sid’s phone, some app with a green owl on it.
Привет Sidney texts him. Как дела?
Maybe not so alone after all, Zhenya thinks.
#sidgeno#sidney crosby/evgeni malkin#hockey rpf#only tangentially related to the photo this time#oops#dana writes a thing
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Lost & Found Batch #18
The newest batch was long overdue ^^;; As always, if you happen to know the fic the ask is looking for, reply to this post or send us an ask with the request number and title/author. If you happen to know any fics from Past Batches, those are more than welcome as well. Thank you!! ~ Admin P
1) Hi! I think my ask got lost TT I was wondering if you guys know of a vmin fic on ao3 where they’re roommates and jimin likes tae and decided to seduce him by asking him to take nude pics of him, and tae ended up not reacting and then they admitted that they both liked each other? Or something along those lines. PLEASE HELP IT WAS SO AWESOME AND I LOVED IT :( thank you!!!
you're only brave in the moonlight by ameliabedelias
2) Hi!! so a while back i was reading a yoonseok fic on ao3, it was smut, and i wanted to read it again but i cant find it, i was wondering if you could help??? it was yoonseok and yoongi was a "beta" but soon found out he was an omega he called himself a "late bloomer"?? and hoseok walks in, they have sex, and i specifically remember yoongi feeling hoseoks dick in his stomach and "rubbing" it. i know its wierd but can you please help me find it???
A Test in What, Exactly, Is "Too Much" by Yooniefucks
3) Hello, I'm trying to find a fic that has taekook in it. I don't actually remember what the fic is about, but I remember that jungkook is a guard/knight and somewhere along the story, the Prince (?) finds out that jungkook is a werewolf since he was bitten as a child and he imprinted on taehyung, who's human if I'm not mistaken. The king took him in, and he used to be chained to a cage/cave (?) during full moon. It will be great if you can help me :) thank you! 💜
4) Hi, I'm trying to find this yoonjin fic were yoongi is walking home from an underground gig and it's late at night. He smells fresh baked goods and it leads him to a building he passes by all the time but never noticed before. He goes inside and jin fixes him a drink and gives him a muffin/cupcake. At the end jin reveals that he's magic and he cast a spell to find love. Thank you for your help!!
5) I'm looking for a yoongi/jimin fic where jimin is abused by his boyfriend (I think the author used a random idol) and yoongi catches on and tries to help but jimin is really damaged. The rest of the group lowkey knows jimin abused but don't know how to help. Sorry I can't remember lots of details but it was really angsty and good
6) hello, im looking for some kind of royalty fan fic where jimin was visiting yoongi’s palace/home? I can’t remember why but they weren’t close in the beginning. All I can remember was a scene where a bunch of boys were in a room smoking and playing poker (half naked?) and a young servant/slave who was able to play any piano piece after just listening to it once and in the end he left with a Russian man who made music.... thank youu
7) Ugh I seriously need help! I’ve been looking for this fic I lost for 3 days now, I really want to read it again! I’m going to be upset if it was deleted :( anyway, it was a fic where the boys were on their way to something and they got in a car crash but it was only Jin, Hoseok, Yoongi, Tae and Kook. Then Jin and Hoseok were kidnapped by a guy named Sung I think, and the fic focused on Yoongi and Tae and Kook traveling through the woods they crashed in looking for Jin and Hobi and then (pt.1) Jimin and Joon were at a hotel with their manager and they were convinced something was wrong and they wanted to go look for them. In the end they got rescued and they killed the Sung guy and Yoongi was shot and I just really want to find it again cause there was an unfinished sequel. I’m so upset. I hope this was enough to help you help me lookfor it!
8) YOOO what's poppin sis'. Can yall help me. I've been looking for this fic where the rap line is an underground rap line and like they perform cypher pt 3? Idfr the name but the main pairings were namjin and yoonmin. Thanks 🤪🤪🧡
9) Hi there! I was hoping you guys could help me find this fic - it's on AO3. It was multi-chaptered, completed, and was a collection of namjoon centric oneshots/drabbles. one of the chapters was inspired by the "princess princess" anime and featured joon wearing panties, bent over jin's lap, before yoongi came to rescue him from a bunch of onlookers. please help!!
10) Hi! I’m looking for a Yoongi/Jungkook fic. I’ve been searching nonstop for a few weeks and I think the author may have deleted it. The plot line is basically this: Jungkook is a medical student who falls in love with Yoongi and eventually loses his drive in the field. I know it has sexual content so it’s either M rated or E. One of the tags was ‘slow burn’ and ‘Jungkook cries a lot’. Thanks in advance!
11) Hello! In the lost chuchu batch 16, #13 is "I Can't Even" by handintheshot in Ao3. But I can't find a link of it. Also, I'd like to ask whether you know about the fic where jimin suddenly has a vagenay and then proceeds to have a hot threesome with jk and tae? If possible, can you please recommend me more like those? Thank you so much 💜
12) Hello! Do u guys know of a vmin pwp oneshot where taehyung has ADHD? They sit in a chair for most of it, and the premise has a slight focus on how Jimin makes it easier for Tae to sit still. It was really sweet, and I can't find it :c
13) I am looking for a 6+1 fic where Namjoon is homeless and in each iteration a different member takes him into their home and life. A recurring element is a cake decorating book that Namjoon borrows from the library - a page falls out detailing how to make a flower with icing, and he keeps it in his pocket. I have used my search-fu but I cannot find it. It was on AO3. I hope you can help, even if it's just with a possible name I can run via the Wayback machine! Thanks!
14) Hello! I would like to ask your help into searching for a story that I can't, for the life of me, find. It's a Yoonmin story but what I remember the most is that Jungkook works as a janitor in an office and he quits because his boss is horrible. However, Taehyung, whom his boss is interested in working with, will only sign the proposal if they rehire Jungkook, so the boss sends Jimin to do it, since Jimin is friends with the both of them. In the end, they all end up working at the same place. TY
15) Hello. I'm looking for a fic where the group had six members but Suga time travels/dimension travels and becomes part of the group as a secret member. I remember that Jin is doing a vlive and is squirted with a water gun but everyone thinks it's Jimin. And when it's reveled to be Suga he's in his dorm room and pulls a big super soaker from under his blankets. I hope that's enough. It's super specific but I can't seem to find it. I hope you can help me :)
16) hey i was looking for this soul reaper or angel?? au where jungkook dies and is taken to the shinigami/reaper realm by the reaper (i think it was yoongi) and i cant find it anywhere :(( i think he dies bc of his new friends and the fic opens with a scene where the reaper sends one of his murderers souls to hell? The reader finds out later i guess. Id really appreciate it if u could find that :(( thank you!
An anon believes it’s Naught Readings For Naughty Readers by supermans_crib, however that has been on AO3
17) Hi! I had recently lost one of the greatest ffs ever, it was a jikook au where they were in the military (?) and jimin had went into a stage sort of like heat and jungkook had to fuck him, he got hekka scared afterwords but they ended up liking eachother
as if it's your last by fatal (cumrich)
18) Hi! I'm trying to find a NamJin fic. I searched the fics here and my bookmarks on AO3 (since I swear I bookmarked it) but I can't seem to find it. It starts out where Yoongi is accusing Namjoon of not moving on. We find out that Namjoon and Seokjin are friends and Namjoon confessed to Seokjin and was rejected. Things get complicated when Seokjin keeps coming around and even interfering with someone Namjoon starts dating. Memorable scene, Seokjin chasing Namjoon in the dark screeching his name.
everything moves on by fruitily
19) Hello. I am looking for a namgi fic where yoongi works in an old bookshop and likes wearing feminine clothing , and namjoon works at a cafe but visits the bookshop often. Namjoon likes art and philosophy but is scared of his parent's reactions so yoongi tells him to fuck society and to "wake up from your sad life and figure out who you are", they eventually kiss as well. I read it on AO3. Your help would be greatly appreciated. Thanks.
20) Hi! I was wondering if y’all could help out with a fic I remember reading? jimin pining for yoongi and for some weird reason I remember a specific scene where jimin (whose brought food for yoongi) waits for yoongi outside of (a studio?) falls asleep waiting and wakes up when yoongi and someone else walk out. Jimin had wanted to eat with him I think but yoongi either says that he’s already ate or is headed to eat with the person. It’s unrequited feelings for a bit of the story.
21) There was a fix where yoongi was a prince and he went out and on the way met all the members who were disney princesses, it was a parody kind of, min yoonji was sleeping beauty and she went back to sleep again and from her castle members got a cat and kittens, can you please find it
22) Hello! I read this fiction a loonnggggg time ago where vminkook were in high school detention I think and kook could read minds and read tae's mind once and hes thinking about potatoes so he calls him potato boy but then the next time tae's thinking about fucking jimin and like yeah LOL I think they all end up in a threesome at the end but yeah I dont remember the title or author ))):
23) what’s that fanfic when it’s an au one of them is overweight and they join their school gym or something? and fall in love with the person who trains them. and there’s this beach scene and a car wash scene near the end. been looking for it for a while, hope you can help!
24) hi! i’m looking for a fic i read a while back, i think it was vmin and one of them had been hurt so the other got them off and they ended up in a relationship i think? pretty sure it was cannon compliant too! thanks!
25) so tae is a student and jk is a professor. jk is engaged to this woman (mina?). basically they are both straight but end up falling for each other so before jk gets married he plans to break up with the girl but she blackmails him with pics of him and his student and turns crazy. i don’t rlly remember what happens after that but later they eventually end up together. i think it’s ab 10 chapters. i’m pretty sure i read it on ao3!
26) Hello! I was reading this taekook fic on ao3 but I forgot what it was called ☹️ basically jungkook travels back in time and kidnaps his last self to tell him how in the future Tae kills himself, so jungkook tries to get his past self to be nicer to Tae and stop him. Past jungkook thinks that Tae cheated on him but he was actually forced to have sex with his “boss” but jungkook doesn’t give him a chance to explain and starts cheating on Tae and is being really nasty to him. Ah help plz if you can
27) I’m searching for a fic and i really can’t find it ... i remember it’s jikook (but not really) and it’s about jungkook (who thinks he’s straight) who downloads a porn (by mistake i think) of minjoon and like he ends up liking it, it’s so vague i’m sorry kfhskcj
care to stay for the ride? by voseok
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#longest one yet#long post#will be tagging that if anyone wants to blacklist!#lost and found#lost and found batch
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Tiny Tony Overlord
Post CW: It’s a straight-forward plan. All Tony has to do is mess with the time storage, destroy an unspeakable Evil that has already defeated them once and keep everyone alive. Whilst in the body of his ten year old self and relying on incomplete memories. Sounds simple, right? Of course then SHIELD goes and declares him a super villain.
Featuring tiny!Tony, protective!Winter Soldier and lots of broken laws. Why be good when the bad guys are so much more adorable?
I’ve finally done it and posted the first chapter of a longer story!!! If you’re interested, you’re welcome to read under the cut--or just go read it on AO3. This chapter was betaed by the talented @folklejend, thank you again for your help!!
Updates will be every Sunday.
Chapter 1: Reset
“ Nothing can be undone, only ever erased.”
.Earth.
Estimated chance of success: 21.83 %
Tony stares at the data on the screen with the closest thing to trepidation he’s still capable of.
“Not the worst odds I’ve gone up against,” he announces to the room at large, sarcasm sharpening the words into a weapon too twisted to be wielded against anyone but himself. “What’s the worst that could happen?”
No one answers.
Tony knocks back a vial filled with something worse than poison before he has to remember why that is.
* * * * *
“The procedure is unreliable. There is no telling how much of your knowledge will stay with you—or when it will manifest itself.”
“I know the risks.”
“I am not convinced you truly understand them, though.”
* * * * *
.New York.
Tony hits the ground hard enough to punch the air from his lungs, and for a long moment, it’s all too much.
The world is a bright clutter of swirling colours that hurt when he looks at them for too long. Beneath his fingers the floor is solid, hard but uneven, and scrapes his fingers when he rubs them over it in an attempt to hold on to something.
His every breath is a painful wheeze by this point, the air heavy with smoke, smells he can’t identify, and a weird sort of crackling electricity. Coughing, he forces his body into an upright position, thin arms shaking so hard he abstractly wonders whether he’ll hit the floor with enough force to break his nose this time, should they give out under him.
This first clear—if somewhat befuddled—thought is like a shot of ice water in that it shocks Tony’s system into full awareness again. He brushes the unhelpful tears away with a shaky hand, stares around what must have been a normal if unfamiliar café at one point.
The scene looks eerily reminiscent of the old black and white pictures from the war his father had shown him once. Overturned tables and chairs, shards of glass, abandoned plates and trampled food. People on the ground, same as Tony, some crying, some yelling, some not moving at all.
Someone stumbles into him, almost knocking him back to the ground again, and it’s then that he registers the noise. Screams. Breaking glass. Splintering wood. Hurried footsteps. Something crashes, loudly, and when Tony turns around, he sees what looks like a very odd car, smashed through a huge glass front. Out on the street, there are people everywhere, some running for cover, others in uniforms and protective gear fighting—each other?
It’s weird, all of it. A bit like a movie he’d watched a long time ago and forgotten the ending of, except Tony doesn’t forget endings. He’s good at memorising stuff, even Howard has said so.
“Take cover!” a gruff voice bellows somewhere above him and Tony doesn’t think, just reacts.
He dives, throwing his body sideways with all his strength. Rolls over his left shoulder to absorb the impact. Hits the ground in a graceless tumble all the same. There is a dull ache spreading in his shoulder, but Tony doesn’t pay it any mind. He’s too focused on crawling on all fours without cutting his palms and knees open, determined to reach an overturned table further in the back, when the world around him explodes in sharp needles and glimmering diamonds.
The window, Tony notes detachedly, hands curled around his head in a instinctive attempt to protect his face. His heart is hammering against his ribcage hard enough to break bones.
Cover.
Tony clenches his hands into fists. Presses his bony elbows against the ground. Pushes his body forward.
He needs to find cover. Now.
“Over there!” The voice is barely audible over the sound of rushing blood in Tony’s ears. “It’s Stark!”
Three men, all heavily-armed, are running towards him. He doesn’t recognise them, but two wear masks obscuring their features, so that doesn’t mean much. Of course, masks don’t usually mean anything good either. Tony is on all fours before he knows it, scrambling towards that stupid table as fast as he can, but then something gets a hold of his left foot. One harsh pull, and Tony is flat on the ground, groaning.
Again.
Gasping, he rolls onto his back to find a gun pointed at his chest. It’s a very big gun. Attached to a very big, masked man. Tony freezes.
“What are you waiting for?” the only unmasked one yells over the sound of a distant explosion that makes the ground vibrate faintly. “Shoot already!”
“The target doesn’t match the mission parameters,” the man with the gun replies.
Tony blinks up at the guy towering over him. He’s wearing black goggles that make it hard to tell whether he’s even looking at Tony, never mind reading his expression.
His partner gapes. “Are you fucking kidding me?” The man yells, face rapidly turning an interesting shade of red. “That’s Stark, right in front of you! I don’t care what version of him it is. Just pull the trigger, for fuck’s sake!”
It’s not something he usually does, but in this instant Tony will be the first to admit he’s got no clue what’s going on. Normally when he wakes up with a gun pointed at his head, it’s because people want something from him, from his father—not because they want to kill him. Usually he also doesn’t wake up in the midst of a battleground.
“The target doesn’t match the mission parameters,” Goggle-Guy replies in a monotonous voice that wouldn’t be out of place on a robot.
Maybe that’s what Goggle-Guy is. Maybe this is all a dream and Howard is right, Tony really reads too many science fiction books. The thought makes Tony giggle even though it isn’t all that funny, and once he starts, he can’t seem to stop. Not even with three armed men staring down at him incredulously.
Suddenly Goggle-Guy twists his upper body and, in a movement so fast it blurs before Tony’s eyes, he catches a car door that’s sailing through the already-destroyed glass windows. He catches a car door. Single-handedly. And throws it back outside like it’s a frisbee.
Tony stares, open-mouthed. “Woah,” he mutters, unable to keep the awe out of his voice. Then, “The force is strong within you, my friend,” because there is never not time for a Star Wars quote.
The reactions are immediate, if somewhat unexpected. The silent third man, who hasn’t even twitched in the face of Goggle-Guy’s impossible accomplishment, chokes. Goggle-Guy’s head snaps around, and this time Tony knows the man is looking at him, can almost feel the burn of the scarily-focused gaze on his skin.
It’s the unmasked man who breaks the tense atmosphere with a snarl. “I’ve had it with this bullshit!”
For a moment Goggle-Guy doesn’t react at all, but when he does, he’s not speaking English, he’s speaking Russian.
Whatever it is Goggle-Guy says, it doesn’t please Free-Face. “Are you for real?” he yells, outraged. “You know what, I’m sick of this! If you can’t get the job done, I’ll fucking do it myself!”
Free-Face reaches inside his ripped jacket and it takes Tony an unforgivable second to realise what the man is reaching for. And what the job is. Or, more precisely, who.
“Don’t!” the third one yells in an unexpectedly high voice, making a motion as though to reach out and grab Free-Face’s arm, but thinking better of it half-way through.
It’s too late anyway. Free-Face raises his weapon and Tony doesn’t even have the time to close his eyes before the first shot goes off, followed by a second and a third in close succession. They are harsh sounds that cut through the air like knives and grind against his already sensitive ears.
An agonising second passes before Tony’s brain catches up with the proceedings. He doesn’t hurt. Even the ache in his shoulder is dulled by the adrenaline flooding his system. Staring at his bloody hands, covered in cuts and small shards of glass, Tony is very glad for that.
He is also very confused. Surely he should notice getting shot, at least a little? But instead of solving the riddle, it seems like his mind is stuck on the “getting shot” part, unable to process the information and equally unable to move on.
Shock, Tony acknowledges on some level. I must be going into shock.
Followed by a dry, Thanks, brain. This does not help.
It takes Free-Face crumpling to the ground like a puppet whose strings have been cut for Tony to figure out that he hasn’t been shot. It’s Free-Face who’s been shot by Goggle-Guy.
Tony isn’t sure what to do with that information, except numbly watch the third man back away from Goggle-Guy with raised palms. He should be running himself right now, but he simply can’t muster up the brainpower to make a decision, never mind will his body into taking off.
When Goggle-Guy turns back to face him, Tony doesn’t have the energy to be afraid. He is tired, wrung out, and in pain. All he wants is for everything to stop, for the world that feels too bright and messy on his raw senses to make sense again.
“Just get me out of here,” Tony pleads plaintively.
To his genuine surprise, Goggle-Guy jerks his head once in acknowledgement and does as asked.
In the rubble they leave behind, a black figure slowly gets to their feet and stares after the departing man and his tiny companion, baffled.
“This is so not good,” they declare.
With a shake of their head, the figure turns on their heels and disappears without a trace into the chaos of the orchestrated villain attack.
Thoughts? Impressions? Ideas? Please share!!!
#ReRe writes#Tiny Tony Overlord#fic#multi-chaptered fic#tiny Tony#Winter Soldier Bucky#protective Winter Soldier#Tony Stark#Bucky Barnes#Bucky & Tony#Tony & Bucky#WinterIron#mostly platonic for obvious reasons
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I had a Dream about NITW
it was a really weird one
Basically, I had a dream that I was playing a Night in the Woods fan game, and the only title that came to mind during the dream was “Ten Lies to Tell”
It was a game where you played as Mae, and it had 10 different endings depending on what you did, but it always ended in disaster unless you completed 9 of the endings to get the final one. With each story path, it always had to do with Mae telling a lie, which caught up with her in some way later on.
The story itself took place in Possum Springs during the evening, after all the events of the original game, and it centered around 3 new characters that Mae has befriended: A white bunny girl with curly rust-colored hair, a short and portly lion guy who has a crush on Mae but has never told anybody, and a purple bat(? I have no idea what he was, he was a mammal with small pointy ears and two sharp fangs) guy who was tall, lived in an old house in the forest with his family, and a bit of a cheeky troublemaker. In the dream, Mae had a crush on the bat guy.
In order to get any of the endings, you had to follow one of the three characters, or go on your own to trigger other events. Each character had two endings, a good one and a bad one, and there were three solo ends, and then the final ending you had to unlock.
My dream mostly followed the bat guy Mae had a crush on. Mae has to return something she borrowed from her crush, so she starts walking over to his house in the woods. Along the way she finds a hat (a tan fedora I think), and decides to take it with her. She also finds her crush’s dad in his car, which was an old roofless car,pulled over to the side of the road, a middle-aged man with a Russian accent and large round glasses. He was busy reading a newspaper, waiting for his wife to get back with help since his car broke down, he didn’t pay much attention to Mae when she passed by. Before she get’s to the door of the house, she decides to be silly and wear the hat she found. She knocks, her crush answers, he questions the hat and finds it funny before she takes it off. He asks where she got the hat, and she states that she simply found it, and then he asks if she’s seen his dad. She lies and says that she hasn’t, hoping that she could hang out with him for a bit since it would be a while until he got home. She gives the borrowed item back to her crush, and he goes inside to put it away. He comes back and closes the door behind him, and gives Mae a cheeky grin, and asks if she has a crush on him. Mae is taken aback, and a bit flustered, but she says that she does like him. He smiles, says that he likes her too, and gives her a hug. (oh yeah, I would also like to mention that the song “Fireflies on the Porch” was playing the entire time during this bit) The two hung out, hugged and snuggled, and talked for a while. Her crush then gets up and says that he wants to show her something, and proceeds to climb to the roof of the house. Mae follows, and her crush shows her that there are some flimsy boards on the roof that are a bit bouncy and creaky and fun to jump on. They both jump around up there as he explains that he loves to do this when no one is home, but him dad hates it since he’s paranoid that he’ll crash through the roof one day.
And then, after one final bounce, he hits a board that’s right above a key support beam for the house. The wood that made it up was old and brittle, and after a series of snaps and splintering wood, the entire house crumbled beneath their feet. Wood, ancient stone, and bricks all crashing down. Both Mae and her crush were unharmed, but right then and there, the dad came home. He sees the massive wreckage, and yells at the both of them, and tells Mae that he never wants to see her with his son again. And that story arch ends there.
Now in the alternate version for that, when Mae finds the fedora and her crush’s dad, she bothers him to see what’s going on. He explains that his car has broke down and that he’s waiting for his wife to get back. He then notices that Mae has the hat, and exclaims happily that she found it. Apparently it was a new hat he bought, but it flew out of his car while he was driving. The two then wait for help to arrive to fix the car, but Mae gets bored, and decides to take a look herself. She manages to fix the problem (dunno, maybe it was a loose part or some leaves stuck somewhere), and the dad offers to give her a ride to the house after they pick up his wife from the auto repair shop. They eventually get to the house, the parents go inside, Mae’s crush goes out to meet her, Mae gives the borrowed item back and the two confess their feelings and all that. Mae’s crush is a bit disappointed because he wanted to show her the bouncy roof, but she says that that’s a bad idea for him to do that, Mae may be able to jump on power lines, but she’s tiny and light unlike him. The two hang out all night, and Mae eventually falls asleep in his arms. The dad comes out to check on them, and see’s that Mae’s asleep, and offers that she can spend the night there and he can call her parents to tell them that she’s alright. Then do that, and they let Mae sleep on the couch Though later, Mae is woken up by her crush, and he seems worried about something. They go outside to see that the sky is red, and there’s smoke coming from the town. They run all the way to town to see that it’s on fire due to unforeseen events, and that story arch ends there.
That’s all the dream gave me before I woke up I will say though, I always love it when my dreams give me a story or a character, I might turn this into a branching story one day. Maybe I won’t have it as a NITW fan story, but I can still use the basic idea
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