#this is a slightly different question than what op answered to be clear

[quantummindclassicalheart]

One other thing to consider in the "making the atom big" scenario: atoms (e.g. the hydrogen atom) are stable because of quantum effects. Specifically, the fact that electron orbitals (the quantum equivalent of orbits around the nucleus) are discrete, and there is a lowest mathematically allowed energy level, so that the electron doesn't just "fall in" (even when it has zero angular momentum, i.e. it's not going "around" the nucleus).

If you try to make a big atom large enough to fit in a hydraulic press, what you get is macroscopic (person-sized) quantities of charge with well-defined position and momenta, rather than the probability distributions you get at the quantum scale.

Quantum effects no longer apply at the macroscopic scale, so your big electron is now drawn into your big nucleus by the electric interaction. As it accelerates, it releases electromagnetic radiation proportional to the square of the charge according to the Larmor formula.

For concreteness, suppose your electron was scaled up to the size of a ping pong ball. A ping pong ball has a radius about 10^13 times larger than that of an electron, so the charge of your big electron (which scales with volume, not length) would be about (10^13)^3 times the charge of a single electron, or about 10^20 Coulombs.

If the big electron falls in at a modest 1 m/s^2 (one-tenth as fast as the ping pong ball would fall due to gravity alone), it radiates about 10^24 Watts of power. For reference, the global power usage is estimated at 10^12 Watts.

So as it falls in, the big electron releases an amount of radiation a million million times more power than the entire energy usage of the Earth, and about a hundred times less than the power output of the entire sun.

If you really did make a big electron and a big proton, you wouldn't need a hydraulic press to compress it. First, the electric attraction would immediately draw them together, and second, your hydraulic press (and lab, and the planet) would be blasted by an amount of electromagnetic radiation comparable to the power output of the entire Sun.

One of my students emailed me this question in the middle of the night last night:

If you coukd enlarge an atom to be the right size for a hydraulic press, or shrink the hydraulic press to fit the atom, what would happen if you squeezed the single atom with the hydraulic press?

(I also messaged Randall Munroe but I don't think he'll answer me)

So you're essentially asking what happens when you compress an atom. If you force the electrons of an atom inwards towards the atom's nucleus hard enough, the electrons and protons will merge to form neutrons. The atom basically melts, and you get this extremely high energy neutron plasma slurry. That's the stuff that neutron stars are made of.

[oleandequill]

A Reflection of You in Blue (SG TFOne Fanfic)

Original TF:One Optimus Prime ends up in a TF:One Shattered Glass universe and meets that universe's Megatron.

The difference in their universes couldn't be more clear.

---

Honestly, I wrote this fic for me and only me HAHAHA

Oh my god I love Shattered Glass so much and I really wanted to make the original tfone Optimus meet shattered glass tfone Megatron. Slight warning though that a lot of the stuff here is from my personal AU of a Shattered Glass TF:One. I'm happy to answer any questions if something is confusing. Just know that a lot of the references here are based primarily on the Fanclub Shattered Glass comics.

But yeah, I wanted to indulge myself a bit and write this fanfic hahaha.

---

“Are the cuffs necessary?”

He tested the metal restraints, wincing as a bolt of electricity ran down his servos. Optimus sighed, dropping his servos back against his lap. His tired blue optics warily looked up at the mech beside him, anticipating the cannon that would press against his helm at any moment. Instead of pain, he could only feel relief as the cuts on his shoulder were slowly repaired. Those servos - familiar yet so different - that only ever inflicted injury, could now only heal. Optimus couldn’t even bring his processor around to acknowledge this. Well, he could hardly process… everything.

“Soundwave verified that what you said was true, but please understand that everyone is still wary of you.” The mech stood back, having finished the repair process. Optimus could feel the energon in his cables turn cold as his optics met the other mech’s. It was the faceplate that threw him off. He looked so much like him… but everything was different. Instead of the dull gray frame, black helm, and red optics that pursued him even in his dreams, this mech was a brighter white. Even the black accents he had weren’t imposing. “This is to keep up morale.”

Morale… Optimus would laugh if the whole thing wasn’t driving him insane. The Decepticons and morale? Every Autobot knew that Starscream would have murdered Megatron and vice versa if the two didn’t have the same aligned goal. Even then, it was a common sight to see the two trying to kill one another even on the battlefield. Shaking his helm slightly, he turned back to this universe’s Megatron. The mech stared back at him, not a hint of emotion in that singular blue optic (and that detail freaked him out more than everything else had). “I won’t hurt anyone here.”

“I trust you. You’re different from the Optimus Prime of this universe. I don’t mean just the paint job but in personality.” Aside from the missing optic, it unnerved Optimus how cold this Megatron’s voice was. He had gotten so used to hearing his name yelled across the battlefield in rage that he had already forgotten what D-16 had sounded like. Has he always sounded this empty? No, Optimus had fond memories of D-16, even if he had forgotten his voice. “I trusted you since you first opened your intake. The Optimus Prime of this universe never calls me Megatron.”

“What does he call you?” It was a redundant question but honestly Optimus didn’t know what else to say. What could he say? Just a few joors ago, he had been in Iacon with his fellow Autobots, and now he was a universe away where apparently Primus was evil, some Primes were warmongers, and he was the current reason for the civil war happening in Cybertron. Even more confusing, the Decepticons were actually good and trying to stop this universe’s Optimus Prime even though Primus had given him the Matrix of Leadership. He needed a long recharge after all this.

“I think we both know.” Megatron let out a tired vent, optic closing before suddenly approaching. Unable to help himself, Optimus flinched back, expecting a phantom punch towards his helm. He felt almost guilty as Megatron stopped. It would take some adjusting. Even if he did look different, Optimus couldn’t forget his Megatron - the mech who was nothing now but rage and vengeance. This universe’s Megatron didn’t deserve to be stared at with distrust, but he couldn't forget the cycles of fighting that had left their mark on him. “He never flinches.”

Megatron said quietly, and then he was gone.

—

“My universe’s Megatron, even before he took on Megatronus’ cog, is a tankbot. Why do you have wings?” After finding himself stuck in this universe, Optimus spent most of his time by Megatron’s side, much to the suspicion of Starscream. Still, this Starscream (who was the leader of the Decepticons, and that did make Optimus laugh) had let it happen since Megatron had vouched for Optimus’ good character - and he needed Optimus nearby while he worked on a way to bring Optimus back to his universe. “And you’re a scientist! I’m not saying my Megatron is stupid, but… he wouldn’t…”

“There are many differences between your universe and mine.” Megatron stated impassively, hardly staring down from the equations he was pouring himself over. It had taken some time, but Optimus had come to find out that this Megatron was the Decepticon’s medic and scientist, with mathematics being a side passion of his. It was hard to process that the Shockwave wasn’t the mad scientist of this universe. Not that Megatron was mad, if anything, he had been nothing but apathetic around Optimus. “In your universe, your D-16 had resigned himself to the mines. I… A part of me could never.”

“That doesn’t explain the wings.” He knew he was pushing it, and he knew it really wasn’t what Optimus wanted to ask. It was that singular optic that continued to run in his processor. If this Megatron was a medic and scientist, why hadn’t he replaced it by now? Surely it wasn’t because he lacked the scraps or materials for it? Megatron finally looked up at him, and Optimus regretted trying to get the mech’s attention. Looking at that optic made him nauseous. “You still changed your designation to Megatron in this universe, so you must have Megatronus Prime’s cog.”

“I changed my designation because I admired Megatronus Prime, and to separate myself from my past.” The other mech scoffed out in irritation. It was the first emotion Optimus had managed to coax out of him. “As I said, our universes are different. Your Matrix of Leadership restored the transformation cogs of the cogless. Primus isn’t so kind in this universe. While he had granted us the return of energon, the transformation cogs were not restored. You said that your Megatron took Sentinel’s cog - which had originally been Megatronus’ - I did no such thing. Sentinel never even took Megatronus’ cog.”

“Then…?” He had considered the possibility that somehow Megatronus Prime had been a Cybertronian jet in this universe, but that didn’t seem to be the case. Optimus nearly panicked before Megatron had clarified he hadn’t taken Sentinel’s cog. The Sentinel in his universe had wings, and if everyone in this universe was different from who they were in his universe, had there been a possibility that Sentinel had been good? Optimus could hardly process the thought. Still, a part of him felt proud and slightly satisfied that Megatron hadn’t resorted to taking Sentinel’s cog. “If the transformation cogs weren’t restored…”

“There is one similarity you both share, it’s that you don’t know when to stop pushing and searching for information you shouldn't have, Prime.” The anger disappeared just as quickly as it had come. Optimus met the shocked look in Megatron’s optic, the mech surprised at his own rage. Megatron headed quickly towards the doors. “Understand this. When Primus… When your god has forsaken you, then sometimes you have to pave your own path forward. You can’t rely on a god that doesn’t care for you. Sometimes, you have no one but yourself.”

Then Megatron was fleeing out the door.

—

“I’m sorry.” It was the first words that Megatron had said after their confrontation. Optimus looked up from the datapad he had been reading through. They haven’t had any luck in finding a way to send him back, so Optimus had busied himself by learning this universe’s history. It was hard though with the limited information (he wondered if there had been a deliberate erasure of the records…). He had nothing else to do, especially since Megatron had avoided him after the incident. “I lost my temper at you, and I think I owe you an explanation for my reaction.”

Before Optimus could object, the mech had already sat down beside him. Selfish as it was, Optimus wished Megatron had sat to his left, since at this angle, he could see the empty socket where Megatron’s left optic should have been. “As you know, during a war, desperate measures happen and it can’t be helped when energon is spilled. The Decepticons have never resorted to extreme measures in the same way our Autobots have and I’m sure in the same way your Decepticons have either. Except one. I’ve eradicated any trace of the technology so it could never be repeated.”

Megatron let out a weak laugh. “The other Decepticons were furious. Possibly the only time Starscream had turned his anger on me… It was unethical of me, but I think at the time, I needed to do it. I was still D-16 then, and I was still cogless. It was only a few astroweeks after we’d been banished to the surface by Optimus Prime. I had been sparkbroken and I thought I would die from the betrayal. It would have been selfish to do so, not when I knew that Cybertron couldn’t be left at the hands of a tyrant.”

There was a tense silence, and Optimus knew that Megatron was stalling. He should really tell the mech to stop. He wasn’t owed an explanation… but he would be lying if he said he wasn’t curious. Megatron went on, “You would know, I think, but it isn’t easy fighting a mech you once loved. I knew that if I wanted to take down the mad Prime, I would have to do something really drastic. I only ever tested it on myself. I would never let any mech undergo the process. The technology has since been destroyed. It’s for the best.”

Optimus looked down to find that Megatron had curled his servos into fists, and his face was contorted in pain. “I reprogrammed all the emotions I had ever held for my Orion Pax. I couldn’t separate him from the mech he had become, so I forced myself to remove the feelings I had for him. It shouldn’t have been done, but the mech who I had been - when I had been D-16 - couldn’t live knowing he’d been betrayed by the one mech he thought would always stand by his side. Now… Now all I feel for that Prime is apathy.”

Awkwardly, Megatron placed a servo on his shoulder, as if to console him before quickly running away. Optimus sat there, taking in the information. Apathy. Megatron felt nothing for his universe’s Optimus Prime. He could piece the rest without the other mech having to say it. He had run off after their confrontation because he had been scared. He assumed that since he was just a different version of this universe’s Optimus Prime, that he would feel nothing towards him too. Optimus’ thoughts didn’t stop there.

He couldn’t help but wonder if his Megatron would have done the same thing.

—

“Your optic…”

The other mech stared at the wall, unable to meet Optimus’ own gaze. He had found out by accident. He had been reckless and left the Decepticon base during an ongoing battle. He had only wanted to help. While he had been on the battlefield, he had finally caught sight of his counterpart. Instead of the blue, this universe’s Optimus Prime was painted in purple. Honestly, they might have looked the same if it weren’t for the difference in color, but there was one difference that still scared him. The optics. One was red… and the other blue.

“You banished your D-16 to the surface. If I still had my emotions for this universe’s Orion Pax, I think I would feel jealous that you hadn’t hurt your D-16 so badly.” Megatron walked past him, giving him a look over his shoulder pad as if to check if he would follow. Optimus did. He had waited until Megatron had finished repairing the mechs that had been injured during the recent battle to ask him about his optics. Now they were both in the hallway outside the medical bay. The air felt tense. “Mine wanted to take away my optics.”

Optimus stayed silent. Honestly, what could he have said after hearing that? Never ever had he considered doing that to another mech. Not even his Megatron who wouldn’t hesitate to kill him! That lone blue optic stared up at him, waiting for his response but Optimus needed a moment to vent. He could never imagine… The more he learned about this universe’s Optimus Prime, the more he felt lucky that the Decepticons and Megatron in his universe weren’t that depraved in the processor. He could hardly believe that a version of himself would ever be capable of such brutality. “W-why?”

“If I refused to see things his way, then I didn’t deserve to see at all.” Despite the coldness and indifference in Megatron’s voice, Optimus could only feel the horror that the other mech must have felt when he could still feel emotions for what had happened to him. “He pinned me down. It was foolish to fight him without a cog but I needed to stop him before he caused more damage to Iacon. He didn’t take my betrayal well. He had taken out one optic before Starscream got him off me. Then, I fled with the High Guard.”

When his universe’s D-16 had shot him with a cannon, at least he had felt some remorse. At the end, Megatron had let him fall. Still, even after what his former friend had done… Even after the pain of betrayal Optimus had felt - how sparkbroken he had been at the loss - he would never have hurt Megatron that way. He couldn’t convince him, so he let him leave. From the way this Megatron spoke, it was almost as though he hadn’t been banished - as if his Optimus had wanted to keep him, even if it meant hurting him that badly.

“You don’t have to live like this, Megatron. You’re a medic. You could repair it yourself.” Optimus couldn’t understand why Megatron remained this way. That lone blue optic met his gaze, and in them, he could almost see the last remnants of affection that D-16 held for his Orion Pax.

“I keep it as a reminder of what I had lost, what I had chosen to do to try to forget, and…” Megatron gave him a sad smile. “As a hope that one day, he may be able to see through my optics, the way I couldn’t see through his.”

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In my actual SG TF:One AU, Megatron loses his arm because Optimus did axe it before banishing him. In this fic he's missing an optic and wasn't exactly banished mostly because I came across a really good fanart on Twitter and I couldn't stop thinking about it skksks

[chaosduckies]

Wiritng prompt. Nothing that thought-out. Just an idea!

A minecraft themed story between the Giant mob and the player. And like its all hapoening IRL and the player is just playing survival and theres like multiple chapters worth of fearplay and confusion but like.

Geez i have a tendency to ramble

This. Was. So. Hard.

Oh my gosh I’ve never struggled so much just to make a short little piece, and it not even come out that good- I’m so sorry if you don’t like it TwT

With that said, I don’t like how this came out, but maybe others do? I have no idea- I’ll definitely re-do if you don’t like this (You probably won’t and I’m sorry again-) But thank you for the prompt either way!

Word Count: 2.8k

CW: referring to someone as an “it”, very very very vague vore (Literally just thinks they’re going to get eaten)

A Different World

———Kane———

I don’t remember how I arrived here. I don’t remember… anything really. Just a sharp pain in my back and then waking up in an oddly small clearing surrounded by trees that were now minuscule to me. 

My eyes drifted off to the strange surroundings, wondering why everything was so tiny compared to me. I held out my hands in front of me, eyes widening at the size difference between them and the trees. Each one only the length of my palm. usually my heart would be racing in these scenarios… but it doesn’t even feel like I have a heart. I don’t feel… anything really. I wasn’t hungry, I wasn’t thirsty. Nothing at all. 

The sun shone high above me, slightly making my eyes burn, along with my entire body but not so much that it felt uncomfortable. I studied my own body, finding myself in unfamiliar clothes that were slightly ripped. Not to mention that my skin looked dead. A decaying color on some parts, but otherwise pale. Just like a dead body. Was I dead? It didn’t really feel like it honestly, besides not having a heart.��

I tried to open my mouth to speak, but it was like there were invisible strings tying my lips together. I had noticed that there were slightly faded green parts at the very tips of my fingers, and some faded parts along my shoulders as I looked through a few of the rips in my shirt. What was this? What am I? 

I heard a familiar noise off to my left, making me look down to see an animal with black and white spots all over them. They made the noise again before running over to one of my hands, apparently thinking it was part of the foliage. I let out a playful huff, moving my hand slightly, sadly watching the cow jump up in fear and run as fast as it could into the safety of the forest. Was I really that terrifying? I guess I would never know. But, the real question was why was it so small? 

A faint memory that I had was that I used to take care of some farm animals or something? I couldn’t really tell, but I knew that cows were never that small. If anything they were pretty much bigger than a human. So… was I not human? Why was everything so small here? It’s like this world was’t even mine anymore. Where am I then? How do I go back home? 

I sighed, slowly standing up and somehow remembering how to walk. Would my memory come back to me? Maybe I can figure out how I even arrived here in the first place. 

I took in the beautiful scenery that lie before me. It felt like I was standing on the very edge of a cliff, seeing a small waterfall that was just below my eyes, a river that reflected the light from the sun, a jungle that didn’t seem too far from where I was currently stationed. It was amazing how trees that once towered over me were now shorter than me. How did I remember that? 

Questions that didn’t have answered filled my mind, but I just had to ignore them. It was obvious this wasn’t my world. It was obvious that I didn’t belong here. So how do I get back? Were there any people here anyways? Were they the same size as me? Or were they just as small as everything else around me? Mostly likely the latter. If there were people here, then how would I communicate when I can’t even open my mouth to speak? Would they just run off like the cow had earlier? Maybe I shouldn’t be focusing too much on that just yet… Probably more on finding a place to stay for the night. I don’t think it’d be good for me if someone did happen to find me at night. I don’t even know if this newfound body of mine needs rest.  

I tried my best to walk slow and light so I didn’t alarm any nearby animals, though I doubt that was possible. I’m basically like a walking warning sign that read, “Don’t come over here! Huge, scary monster!” I sighed at the thought, deciding that I could just rest underneath a really strange cliff that connected to another mountain on the other side. How was I going to get out of here? 

———Zayden———

The forest was oddly quiet today. The animals seemed to have gone quiet, the wind stopped rustling the leaves outside. Heck, my dog has been whining and hiding under the bed all day. Obviously something was wrong, and that’s surprisingly not abnormal around here. Along with the man-eating zombies, skeletons that have bows, spiders that were the size of your chest, these green mobs that just explode when they’re beside you, and enderman that are one of the scariest monsters that are out there, it wasn’t really weird to hear that the animals have all gone quiet. It just usually means that there was a monster that snuck into their home or something. 

I sighed, grabbing my sword and dragging myself outside in the revolting heat, seeing that there were no monsters. Even checking all the small, hidden places. There was nothing. Np spiders along the walls, no zombie waiting to get their decaying hands on me. Absolutely nothing. So wha were the animals so afraid of? 

I shrugged it off, heading over to Mira’s house to see if she was having the same problem. 

Mira was a quiet person. She loved baking and helping out the nearby village whenever she could, whether it was help keep up  with their small gardens or just to check up on them. She tried her best to make our little area pretty and nice. With walkways that led to almost everywhere. My house, hers, Ash’s, the village, a nearby mine we go to when we need a few resources. I don’t know how to does it, but she does. Of course there were other people out there besides Mira, Ash, and I, but they lived in big communities. 

I prefer the slow life. Not worrying about what I need to go get for the day, not worrying if someone has it out for me (because most people in the big village either steal or make a trade) so it really wasn’t the safest place to be. Plus, I love being outside, just not when the sun is grueling and practically melting the skin off my body. 

Mira was home, the smell of cake filled the air as I walked closer, opening her front door and walking into the kitchen where I saw her cleaning up a few things before finishing up her mouth-watering cake. 

“Zayden! Morning!’ She giggled, carrying the cake to the middle of her table where I sat at. I eyed it for a split second before shaking my head and smiling, “Morning. Ash still isn’t awake?” I laughed as she sighed, looking out her window and seeing that he was barely getting up. 

“Barely woke up. He was out all day yesterday mining and came back just five hours ago.” She shrugged her shoulders, taking a seat at the table and holding her head up with her hand. 

“Hey, are your cats acting weird? Like skittish or something?” I had asked, earning a questionable look from Mira, who slowly nodded her head. 

“Yeah… It’s kind of weird. They just hide under the covers and every time I tried to take them out they just ran right back in.” She sighed, sounding worried. Today was just a weird day. Mira didn’t know what was going on, I doubt Ash did… but maybe the villagers know about something? I’d have to head over there later because whatever was happening was affecting the animals. I still found it odd that it was unnaturally quiet. 

After a little catching up with Mira, I decided that I would go and investigate more. Obviously something was wrong, and it could possibly lead to something that we don’t want to happen. I would go ask the other people that lived an ocean away from us, but their “city” wasn’t really the safest place fro someone like me. Plus, I doubt Ash would be up for another trip after last night, but hey, maybe he can finally make himself a new, shiny sword. 

I followed the path to the tiny town that lived by the small river. There were barely any people walking along the streets, but then again it was a small community. I waved to a few of the townsfolk, earning a few smiles and “heys!” As I passed by. There were kids playing around but the well as usual. It was eerily quiet here as well, and the animals here were also huddled up in a far corner. The caretakers seemed just as confused as I was. 

“Did you hear the rumblings yesterday…” 

“There’s been some weird noises coming from the woods…” 

“Yeah animals came from all over yesterday!” 

So they’ve actually had things happen? I guess I should start with just asking around. I don’t really want to explore the woods by myself without Ash (Since he actually knows how to fight the monsters) but it’s okay. I didn’t plan on staying for the night if I did decide to explore. Just see what I can find and hope that whatever if going on will just blow over and become someone else’s problem. 

I walked over to a group of people talking, clearing my throat so I at least sounded professional, “Does anyone here know what happened? All the animals are just terrified.” They all shook their heads before one of them spoke, “No, there were strange earthquakes here though. Kind of like in increments? It-it was weird.” They all nodded their heads in unison, as if saying that this information was true. 

I guess I wasn’t going to really get any information from here then if they were all just as confused as I was. Might as well go look for clues while the sun was still high up in the sky. It was just as quiet as it was by our house. Which either meant that whatever was causing this passed by here, or is still here. I dug out my sword, thinking that it was some kind of horrific new monster that we have yet to face. If it was then maybe this was a bigger problem than Mira and I had originally thought. 

Overall, there was nothing out of the ordinary that wasn’t already. The eerie quiet, the lack of animals, people too scared to venture out at night now. The sun was setting, I was a little far from the village but I was certain I could get there without being attacked by anything. Hopefully. 

Dodging trees, boulders, a small stream that I could easily jump over, I started to hear… a weird noise. My head turned towards the noise, listening for any sort of recognition that it was just some weird monster. Or maybe it was the monster that was causing all of this to happen. I shuddered at the thought, hoping that wasn’t the case. The farm animals don’t even get scared of the regular monsters. So obviously this was a little worrying. 

I stopped in my tracks, listening once again for the strange, low noise I had heard. Was it weird that it sort of sounded like a whimper? But not form a dog. Like a human being. It just… sounded weird. Low, muffled a lot, and most of all it echoed through the entire forest. 

“Hello? Anyone there?” I screamed, knowing I would most likely attract zombies but I could easily outrun them. I heard that same noise, almost like a grunting, that came from the two tall cliffs that I’ve only attempted at climbing once. It was always too steep and cold to make it all the way without some kind of protection. 

I ran to the base of the cliffs, not seeing anything at all. The steady flow of the large river than ran into an ocean, you could hear the waterfall in the distance. Nothing seemed off here. Except for the fact that I felt like I was being watched. I turned around in every direction, searching the trees for something, or someone. But nothing. My heart had started beating faster than ever, not knowing if someone was or not. 

I jumped at the same groaning sound, echoing off the walls of the huge, empty cave the cliffs made between them. My eyes couldn't adjust to the dark to see what was hidden, but could see a huge shadow emerge from the darkness, and soon enough, the light from the moon helped out in making whatever monstrous being that lie just ahead of me. With a shaky hand, I gripped my sword, pointing at the mountainous being. I’ve never seen  anything like this… only in those books Mira always read to Ash and I… My mind wandered off for a split second, trying to figure out meaningless conclusions. But nothing in those books could be true, right? I mean, there was a myth about a dragon that had lived in a different dimension, but no one even knows how to get there, if it exists at all. A wither? It’s incredibly hard to make those, and I don’t think they can get this big. I would bet that whatever this was, I’d only be a couple inches tall compared to it. 

Releasing a shaky breath, watching as a… hand? Came down, somehow avoiding the crowded trees. I gulped, staring at it for just a split second before a human face appeared from out of the shelter it had made underneath the cliffs. It’s eyes were pitch black, with a few scars on it’s cheek. Skin pale, messy hair. It looked human, but there was no way it wasn’t. Was this like… a giant or something? Those weren’t real. Not in this world at least. 

My legs almost gave out from underneath me, but I forced them to stay flat on the ground, getting ready to run at a moments notice. Of course I was was terrified. Who wouldn’t be? Having two pitch black eyes stare deep into your soul like it could judge your every move, a literal mountain towering high above me without ever trying. What was there not to be scared about. Heck, I would have ran off if I didn’t know that my legs would give up on me the second I tried. Instead, I stood still, hoping that it wouldn’t try anything. 

My eyes darted to anywhere but it’s eyes, head now tilted while it made some kind of noise that I didn’t know. I focused on his hand, that hand’t moved since I first saw it, looking like it was gently placed. The slight green face on his wrist that turned into his pale skin, the few stitches that lined its neck as if it had suffered from some kind of injury. A zombie? Most zombies have scars, since they were once people after all. 

The giant… zombie… thing opened its mouth, revealing sharp canines. I let out a quiet yelp, my steps faltering and falling back. Was it going to eat me? My mind went into panic mode, forcing myself back up and trying to run away, failing miserably at not tripping over my own two feet. I groaned, looking back at the curious face. My heart beating fast, body trembling, breathing fast. What was I supposed to do? It seemed like it was going to let me run off, but I couldn’t. Tears formed in my eyes, expecting for the worst to happen. Just a great turn of events… Just… great. 

The giant in front of me tilted it’s head, confused. I just continued to hyperventilate, hoping that this was just some sick nightmare. None of this was real. Not at all. There totally isn’t a giant, possibly sentient, zombie in front of me. I jumped when something brushed up against my back, making me yelp and crawl away. It’s eyes widened, looking a bit sad, but retracted it’s hand. Yup… sentient. Never seen this before. What would happen if I made it out of this alive? Tell Mira and Ash? What would we even do? It’ snot like we can force this giant out. How did it even get here? Why weren’t there any monsters in the area? Were they scared of this giant too? So many questions and not enough answers. 

I stared back into the black eyes that were full of curiosity again, taking a deep breath and standing up. This was going to be a long night. No matter how scared I was, I would just have to show that I wasn’t. That’s how I win this. It was just curious after all, it hasn’t hurt me yet, but that didn’t mean that it wouldn’t later on. I just have to hope no one comes looking for me.

——————

Again, this was hard to make, I had no idea how to make this at all TwT

I hope you enjoyed either way though (Just say you didn’t it won’t hurt my feelings lol-) even I didn’t like how it turned out :<

Thank you for the prompt though! Again, I’ll re-do it if you don’t like it! Have a great day/night! :D Thank you all again for 100 followers!

I’m sorry this took so long- It’s been a very busy week TwT

[masschase]

actually i can’t remember if you’ve talked about this before so apologies in advance, but #14 for the ask meme: what voice does casey have in-game and do you headcanon her with a different voice? and if you have already answered that, i’m curious about your voiceclaims for your other OCs

Sorry this took a while; I have a fever and it's confusing me as to what I'm doing rn...

Unsurprisingly I'm going to answer both 😅

Boss ask meme

14. Which voice does your Boss have? Or if you imagine them speaking differently to one of the in-game voices, describe it.

So I think I answered this at some point but it was pretty brief. Casey's voice is SR3/4 Female Voice 1, the Laura Bailey voice. Apparently that voice is not so popular 😅 but it's how I've always imagined her. In 2 I play with the other Female voice 1 but hc she sounds the same as 3/4. I guess it's probably a little different in my head to in-game just because I've written as her vastly more than I've played as her by this point.

In SR1 I never attempted to remake "unnamed SR4 Boss" as she was at the time, I had a different Boss entirely. But I imagine her voice just sounding appropriately younger; a little higher pitched and when talking for extended periods, probably a little more timid too, though obviously the one-liners we hear in-game are her at her most confident.

I think we can assume the Stilwater accent is similar to Detroit, but her mom was from a different area of Michigan and in terms of later in life she has been heavily influenced by living in Steelport and Washington so I think her accent is pretty mixed. In terms of how Michigan I imagine it she definitely says stuff like didja, toldja, meetcha, y'guys instead of y'all, ope instead of oops, and Matt teases her over "meer" and "cloze". She doesn't have the vowel rotations like "melk", "stahp" though, I think her mom did though so she actually finds that pretty grating.

So yeah; she probably sounds a little different in my hc but I did study the LB voice lines as much as possible... the videos are just loooooong 😅

22. Another question not listed here: Do you have voiceclaims for your other OCs?

Pretty much all of my OCs have voices in my head but I don't think I have voice claims for most of them.

Mori is a difficult one because he's one of my most important OCs and I have a clear idea but no voice claim. In terms of tone I always imagine his voice being similar to the friend I based him off, whose voice has been likened to JJ Olatunji/KSI, but Mori is not British; his accent would be Stilwater but with several words pronounced with a Bajan inflection as he lived in Barbados for the first 11 years of his life.

Nessa's voice claim is KO/Karen Olivo because the minute I named the character Vanessa I couldn't help but associate her with Vanessa from In The Heights, and KO originated that role.

Rhys only has one line in my fanfic which is a very smooth "Mi rey." when he finally sees Pierce again. I'm tempted to say he sounds the same as his faceclaim Laith Ashley. His voice when speaking Spanish is how I imagined, maybe slightly different when speaking English, but he has a nice voice, I think it works.

Charlie's from East London so think the cockney male voice in a higher register. They're AFAB on a microdose of T.

I haven't really given Ward a voice yet but later I might have a walk around in SR2 and the first npc voice that suits him, I'm going to steal 🤣

Jenny is from Laredo, Texas and I described her as having a "gentle southern drawl.". She is obviously hugely rich and successful but unlike Casey she will not let her accent be influenced. She remembers her roots.

Daniel (the only fanfic featured OC I didn't draw for the pride thing) is also really important but... I guess I just imagined whatever "American kid" voice my brain thought of when writing him. I'll have to think about teen/adult Daniel!

I'm sure I'll be ridiculous enough to give all the Saints' kids voices eventually 😅

[tricksters-captain]

Bucky Barnes Imagines - Some Sunny Day Part 1

AN: My Marvel obsession has been lying dormant since Endgame finished but Wandavision and Falcon and Winter Soldier have brought it back to life.... This is going to be a series based off the show. Kind of like my ‘Oh Dear’ fic, it’s the series with an added characters and story lines. 

Summary: Before the Blip, you and Bucky were close. After you both returning and Tony’s funeral, you decided to go back to your home town to spend time with your family. When duty calls, you return.  

In this chapter: You reunite with Sam and Bucky (Based on S1 EP2)

Pairing(s): Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader, Sam Wilson x Platonic!Reader

Word Count: 6,883

Warnings: Spoilers for episode 2, strong language, violence. 

You and Bucky had always been close. 

You were close with Steve before Bucky joined the avengers and you fought on Steve’s side during the small civil war between the avengers. 

Steve was your best friend and Sam always knew how to make you smile but there was something about Bucky that was different to the rest of the avengers. 

You had spent some time in Wakanda with Bucky at Steve’s request and you two had always fought side by side and it crushed Steve when you both taken during the blip and he wasn't. 

When you returned, you were thrust back into battle almost immediately. The final fight against Thanos which resulted in you losing Tony and then Steve. 

Nothing seemed to matter except the fact you had been gone for 5 whole years. You had missed 5 whole years with your friends and family. They had changed whilst you were gone and you came back the same as you left.

When Steve returned the infinity stones, he hadn’t given you warning that he wasn’t coming back the same age he was going in but he had warned Bucky. They had spoken about it before apparently and after everything, you felt kind of betrayed. 

You knew you’d never understand Steve’s choice but it was his choice. You were just upset Bucky didn’t warn you. 

You returned to your home town after that day. 

You returned to find some people had changed and some hadn’t but you knew you wanted to be around and spend time with them. 

After all the years fighting for the avengers and only calling every once in a blue moon. It seemed to finally dawn on you that you should spend time with them whilst you still could. 

However, that only lasted around 6 months before you found yourself answering a phone call from Sam. 

You were at a birthday party for one of your old school friend’s daughters when you felt your phone go off. 

You put down one of the little girls who had be asking you a hundred questions about being apart of the avengers and excused yourself from the party. 

“Tell me why I got an awful feeling when I saw your caller ID come up on my phone.” You answered, folding your free hand under your arm as you leant against the wall. 

“It’s cause your subconscious is reminding you about that one time you said no when I asked you out on a date and you regret that now.”  Sam’s voice instantly made you crack a smile. 

“Or maybe it’s because every time I get a call from you it’s to do with the world ending or something worse.” You shot back. 

“It’s good to hear your voice too.” Sam chuckled at your comment before he had responded. 

“So what’s going on? I haven’t heard much from you in months.” You asked. 

“That’s around the time you up and left us for the old way of living.” Sam reminded you that you were the one that decided to go cold agent and return home. 

“There isn’t anything wrong with a little quiet.” You told him as you looked back through the window to the children that were the opposite of quiet. 

“No there isn't.” Sam agreed, “However, I got a situation here at the moment that I could really use your help with.”

“I guess it’s a bit bigger than the usual military op or you wouldn’t be calling?” You frowned. You were in the loop enough to know Sam had been apart of the airforce these past 6 months and had been taking part in frequent missions but nothing that concerned you. 

“I’m sending you over the details now. I’d appreciate it if you could come.” Sam sent you through a file and you pulled your phone away from your ear to open it. 

“You don’t need to convince me, Sam. I’ll be there since I know you wouldn’t ask unless it was serious.” You answered honestly. 

“Guess I’ll be seeing you soon then.” You could practically hear Sam’s smirk through the phone.

“Depends how quick I can get a bag together and your jet can get me to you.” You told him as you picked up your jacket from the coat rack. 

“Well it’s no Red Wing but it’s pretty fast.” Sam stated. “Oh and (Y/n)... You haven’t seen the news in the past hour or so, have you?”

“No? Why?” You frowned at the hesitation in Sam’s voice. 

“Just... take a look.” Sam told you before you ended the call. 

You opened up the news on your phone and what you saw made your mouth go dry and your stomach drop. 

‘JOHN WALKER; NEW CAPTAIN AMERICA’

You felt an anger rise up in you as you watched the wannabe waltz onto screen with Steve’s shield in his paws. 

When Sam gave up the shield, you didn’t know how to feel at first but now... now you weren’t surprised Sam didn’t elaborate on what he wanted you to see.

You said your apologies and your goodbyes pretty swiftly and you had already stashed an emergency bag ready to go under your bed so you were soon on your way.

It didn’t take terribly long to get to the air base where Sam was waiting for you. 

“Who the hell is this guy and why is he calling himself the new Captain America?” 

“Nice to see you too.” Sam wasn’t surprised at the attitude once you stepped off the plane.

“Sam, first you call me up to help deal with this wannabe terrorist group and now I just find out that Steve’s shield, which you gave up, is being held by some wannabe superhero.” You dumped your bag on the floor as you closed the gap between you and Sam.

“Trust me, I’m not happy about it either and I knew nothin about it but we have bigger fish to fry right now so can we cut the dramatic and get to actually saying hello?” Sam stared down at you with his hands on his hips. 

You sighed and gave in.

You wrapped your arms around the man and hugged him warmly.

“I’m sorry. I just––”

“–I know.” Sam didn’t need your apology. He understood how you were feeling. You both loved Steve so much. 

“Miss (Y/N)(Y/L/N), it’s a pleasure to meet you.” A voice brought your attention away from Sam to a man approaching you both. 

“(Y/n), Torres. Torres, (Y/n).” Sam introduced you to the uniformed man and you shook his hand politely. 

“Nice to meet you.” You weren’t sure if you had gotten used to the way most civilians looked at you after you became apart of the avengers. When you joined you didn’t realise becoming famous would be apart of the gig.

“I’m sorry to interrupt but Miss (Y/L/N) has to come with me to get logged into the clearance system and sort out a couple things.” Torres pointed over his shoulder as he explained. 

“And by that he means sign an autograph for his kid sister.” Sam teased the man. 

“What?” Torres’ cheeks tinged pink. “No!”

“It’s alright. Lead the way.” You picked up your bag and sent a quick smile to Sam before turning back to Torres. “Oh and you can call me (Y/n) by the way.” 

It didn’t take too long for Torres to fill you in on Sam’s plan for the mission as he logged in a few details so you could have clearance around the airbase. 

You did end up signing an autograph after a little tiptoeing around the question and then by the time you walked back out into the open you spotted someone you hadn’t expected to see. 

It was Bucky. 

“Looking good for a senior citizen.” You spoke up as you approached Sam and Bucky. 

Bucky had his back to you but the sound of your voice soon paused his conversation with Sam and he spun around. 

“Hey Buck.” You smiled but you couldn’t help but feel slightly nervous. “Long time no see.” 

“(Y/n).” Bucky stepped forward and wrapped his arms around you. 

You chuckled at his tight embrace but hugged him back just as tight all the same. 

“You, uh, you look good.” Bucky cleared his throat as he pulled away from you. 

“If you’ll excuse us, Casanova, we got places to be.” Sam tried to pull you away from Bucky but Bucky only followed. 

“I’m coming with you.” Bucky announced. 

“No, you’re not!” Sam argued. 

You hadn’t missed the men’s bickering...

In spite of Sam’s protest, Bucky ended up on the flight anyway. 

“So how’s it been away from the Avengers?” Bucky asked you as you both prepared for the mission.

Sam was up with Torres in the cockpit so you and Bucky were alone for the first time since you saw each other.

“It’s been okay. Spending time at home. Doing non-hero regular folk stuff.” You chuckled weakly as you pulled off your sweater. Bucky’s eyes fell to your chest as you had only wore a vest underneath. You felt your cheeks burn as you pretended not to notice.

“Uh, same.” Bucky cleared his throat before he spoke.. “Been strange without you around.”

“Buck, you know I needed time away from everything. From Sam, from you... After Steve, I...” You let your words drop away. 

There was a short silence before Bucky decided to change the subject.

“I’ve been seeing a therapist. Court mandated. She’s got me doing this whole redemption thing. Contacting people in my past. Making things right.” 

“And how’s that going for you?” You couldn’t help but smirk slightly at the idea of Bucky forcing himself to face his past at the request of a therapist. 

“Well I have three rules I’m meant to stick to and let’s say I’m not exactly following them closely.” Bucky admitted as he folded his hoodie.

“Does your therapist know that?” You cocked an eyebrow at the man with a light amused expression.

“What do you think.” Bucky smirked back at you.

“Be careful. I might tell on you.” You sighed playfully. 

“You’re actually on the list.” Bucky suddenly confessed. “I wanted to make things right after...” Bucky paused for a moment. “...After Steve. I should have warned you. Should have told you the truth.” 

“Bucky.” You stopped him. “It’s okay. Steve made a choice and he chose to talk to you about it. You’re his best friend and the only other person on the team who could’ve really understood why he did what he did. I’m not holding it against you.” 

“I’m still sorry.” Bucky looked you in the eyes as he spoke, “You were with him for so long when I wasn’t around. You should’ve got a real warning.” 

“Thanks Buck.” You pressed your lips into a brief sad smile before looking down at your boots. 

“I’ve really missed you, (Y/n).” Bucky uttered. 

“I really missed you too.” You stopped tying your lace to look up at the man. 

His short hair had really revealed his face and you couldn’t help but notice every part of it. The lines by his eyes when he smiled, the curve of his lips, the shadow that was just coming on.

You straightened up and stepped towards the man. 

“I like the new haircut by the way.” You reached up and let your fingers brush the top of his forehead. “Makes you look almost like a civilian.” 

Bucky couldn’t help but feel his body tense under your touch. 

“You look tired though.” You let your hand drop down to his cheek. “Not been sleeping well?”

Bucky forced himself to move away from your touch.

“Bad dreams.” Bucky murmured. 

“I figured therapy might have been helping you with those.” You frowned, “I remember sharing wake up duty with Steve like it was yesterday.”

“Every time it was your turn you’d make hot coco.” Bucky reminded you. It brought back images of you and Bucky sat in a small kitchen drinking hot chocolate that you had made despite Bucky’s insisting that he didn’t want any. 

“Seems like a lifetime ago.” You smiled but the memories only made you feel dismal. It seemed those were simpler times. Steve was still around, at least. 

Bucky handed you your jacket in the silence and you took it gratefully.

“I’m not interrupting something, am I?” Sam said rather loudly as he climbed down the ladder. 

“No, we were just getting ready which is what you should be doing.” You picked up Sam’s bag and tossed it to him which he caught effortlessly. “I’m going to check a few things with Torres. Try not to kill each other whilst I’m gone.” 

Bucky watched you climb the ladder up to the cockpit and Sam watched Bucky. 

“I’ll never understand why you won’t just shoot your shot with the girl.” Sam shook his head as he opened his duffle. 

“Shoot my what?” Bucky glared over at the man with confusion clear in his eyes. 

“Your shot, man. (Y/n) has clearly been in love with you since Steve dragged your ass onto the team. What she sees in you compared to this, I’ll never understand but she clearly sees something.” Sam had gestured to himself when he spoke but Bucky just rolled his eyes. 

“Maybe instead of talking about (Y/n), you should actually tell me what the plan is?” Bucky suggested as he zipped up his jacket securely. 

“How about you stop avoiding your feelings?” Sam retorted which made Bucky shut up and sit down. 

“I’m not avoiding my feelings.” Bucky grumbled as he glared at the man. 

“Yeah right.” Sam scoffed, shaking his head as he started to change. 

You didn’t return to the boys until you were approaching the drop off. 

“(Y/n), you’ll be out first.” Torres explained as you put in your ear piece, trying your hardest to ignore Bucky and Sam starring daggers at each other behind you. 

“Great. See you on the ground, fellas.” You jumped from the aircraft just as you heard Bucky ask what the plan was in your earpiece. 

You had to jump earlier then the men since you were approaching the building from another angle but that didn’t mean you couldn’t hear them bicker still on the aircraft. 

When you reached the warehouse, you remained hidden in the trees. You watched several people start to load two trucks with large boxes. 

“You’re doing the staring thing again. They’re in there.” You heard Sam’s voice in your earpiece. He must have been talking to Bucky inside the warehouse. 

“Where’s the guy?” Bucky asked. 

“I don’t know. I think they’re smuggling weapons, though.” Sam responded before you could. 

“Well, I think you could be right.” Bucky agreed with a passive aggressive tone. “But there’s only one way to find out. I see a clear path. I say we take it.”

“We’re not assassins.” Sam argued with Bucky.

“I’ll see you inside or not.” Bucky must've walked away from what you could hear. 

“Hey, come on, man. I’m just messing with you! Come back.” You could practically see Sam’s smile in your head.

“If you guys are done, I have a visual on the targets. They’re loading up two red trucks.”

“We’re moving up now.” Bucky replied to you. 

“Look at you. All stealthy.” Sam was teasing him. “A little time in Wakanda and you come out White Panther.”

“It’s actually White Wolf.” Bucky corrected him and Sam’s reaction almost made you laugh out loud. 

You tried to move closer to the trucks to see exactly what was going inside but it was risky with the group constantly checking around them. 

“All right, I’m inside. Therefore, way ahead of you. It’s not great, but very doable.” Bucky’s voice came up again. “Hello. How are you?” Bucky sounded irritated. Sam must've snuck up on him. 

“Good. What did I miss? Nothing.” Sam whispered back. 

“All right, let’s go.” Bucky commanded but Sam stopped him. 

“No, wait.”

“I got a vibranium arm. I can take them.” Bucky held up his arm as he fought against Sam’s halt.

“And I can fly. Who gives a shit?” Sam muttered. “Wait. I want to see where they’re going.”

“Guys I may not be in the same location as you but I can hear everything you’re saying so quick the arguing” You whispered lowly as you kept your eyes trained on the trucks. 

You tried to zone out the boys bickering as you crept forward. A crashing noise from inside the warehouse made you jump back and hide as the flash smasher members all stopped and looked. 

“Be careful.” You hissed at the both of them.

“It wasn’t my fault.” Bucky tried to defend himself but frankly you didn't care. The trucks were staring to close up and their engines switched on. 

You watched the people pile into the trucks and you dived over, taking hold of the backdoors and clinging on. 

“They have a hostage.” Sam told you as the trucks drove off with you attached. 

“Then get moving.” You commanded. You pulled open the door you were hanging to and opened it. 

“No sight of a hostage in here.” You informed Sam as you looked around. “Just boxes of vaccines.” 

“I found her.” Bucky must've gotten inside the other truck. “Hi. You okay?” Bucky’s voice was then followed by a crashing sound. 

However, you had your own problems... 

You heard a loud bang behind you and you turned to see two men at the end of the truck. They both had masks on. 

“Cute masks.” You taunted them before they charged at you. 

You threw three knives at them, two managed to hit one of the men in the thigh and chest but the second man had knocked the third one away. 

You went to attack the uninjured one first as he drew closer, you punched him but he was strong. He didn’t even flinch. 

You felt a small panic in your chest as you started to fight. He was taking moves that would usually floor someone like he was being attacked by a pillow. 

You managed to get him to the ground by wrapping your thighs around his neck and flipping him over you before you threw another knife at the injured soldier. He seemed to retreat, climbing out of the truck and onto the roof. 

“Could use some back up, Sam!” You called out as you followed. 

You climbed up onto the roof and the first soldier chased after you. The injured one grabbed hold of Bucky along with a third guy and so you were left with the big one. 

You heard Redwing shooting at the roof before you saw it but a redheaded female smashed it in half like it was but a plastic toy. 

With that, Sam finally swooped in and started throwing punches. 

He was thrown to the other roof as you continued to fight your own battle. You were getting tired and his punches seemed to only be getting stronger and more painful each time.

You pulled out another knife but he grabbed your wrist and squeezed. You couldn’t help but cry out at the pressure, you dropped it before he could break your wrist. 

Then suddenly a helicopter appeared from what seemed like nowhere. Cap’s shield bounced off one of Sam’s attackers as two new bodies joined the fight. 

The distraction allowed you to kick your attacker off the truck and start to help Bucky. 

“Sam, John Walker; Captain America.” 

“Lemar Hoskins.”

“Looks like you guys could use some help.” Walker and his sidekick introduced themselves. 

 A surge of rage from the introduction of ‘Captain America’ helped you regain some adrenaline. You turned and started to fight once again. 

You let yourself become distracted as Bucky fell from the side of the truck which allowed one of the guys to send you off the truck too.

Sam was quick to fall back with his suit and grab you before you hit the concrete road. However, the impact of him grabbing you did leave you winded. 

“Bucky.” You wheezed as the man settled you on the side of the road. 

Sam flew up and chased after the trucks. 

You took a moment, wincing at your aching body before you rose to your feet and took off in their direction. 

You couldn’t catch up to the trucks but it didn’t take long to find Bucky and Sam once you spotted they were both coming out of a field. 

“If someone told me I’d be fighting a whole bunch of super soldiers today I would’ve wore my nice pants.” You stated as you approached the two men.

“We knew they were strong but not like this.” Sam defended himself from your anger. 

“One of those guys took a knife to the chest and could still walk away.” You threw your arms up as you informed him. This was so much worse than the documents had described. 

“It’s going to take a lot more than just a knife to stop these guys.” Bucky’s eyes seemed to carry a storm as he thought. 

“How can this be possible? I thought the super soldier serum was gone. What happened in Siberia was supposed to have put an end to it all.” You remembered the failed super soldiers as clear as day. 

“We know about as much as you, (Y/n). Unless you tried to, you know, your weird seeing thing?” Sam asked.

“No. It takes it out of me and I can’t do it whilst I’m trying to fight for my life so.” You shook your head as you walked beside the men. Whilst you weren’t as powerful as some of the Avengers, you were a great assassin like Natasha Romanoff. Your talent was your knife throwing but under all the training and all the knowledge, there was a gift. A gift you’d had since birth.

If you touched someone, you could see their entire past, everything they had experienced up until that moment. It really drained you of your energy and over the years you trained yourself so that you could switch it on and off so it didn’t happen every time you touched someone but when you did use it, it usually required a lie down afterwards. 

“Sorry about Redwing.” Bucky spoke up after a moment of silence. 

“No, you’re not.” Sam rolled his eyes at the fake apology before asking: “What’s going on in that big cyborg brain of yours?”

“It’s computing.” Bucky grumbled. 

“You know what? I can actually see it. I can see the gears turning. Oh, they’re malfunctioning, shutting down. Yep, they’re on fire.” Sam couldn’t help but make fun of Bucky which only made you walk ahead of the men. You weren’t in the mood for this.

“We gotta figure out where the serum’s coming from.” You said to stop their silliness. 

“Yeah. And how in the hell after 80 years are there eight Super Soldiers runnin’ loose?” Sam agreed with you just as a transport vehicle began to pull up along side him. 

“So that didn’t go as planned, huh?” John Walker’s voice penetrated the space like a foul smelling fart. 

He opened the truck’s door to allow you all to hop in but you all ignored him. 

“Alright. Let’s keep going.” He told the driver before directing his attention back to you. “Look, at least we know what we’re up against now, huh? And we’re pretty sure it’s one of the Big Three, so…”

"Aliens, androids, or wizards?” Sam spoke up just to prove to Bucky that others knew of the ‘Big Three.’

“Pretty sure.” Walker nodded.

“There’s no such thing as wizards.” Bucky exclaimed which made you cock an eyebrow at the man. You clearly missed a conversation here. 

“Then it’s aliens, or androids.” Walker shrugged as if it were obvious.

“––Or Super Soldiers.” Sam added. 

“Shit. Super Soldiers, for real?” Walker’s colleague responded with the reaction you just about expected. 

“Yeah.” Sam confirmed. 

“Wow. All right, well, then we gotta work together.” Walker’s eyebrows rose as he spoke. 

“That’s not happening.” Bucky declared.

“I think we stand a much better chance if we all just––”

“––Just ’cause you carry that shield, it doesn’t mean you’re Captain America.” Bucky cut Walker short and you were grateful for it. The man was making your head ache. 

“Look, I’ve done the work, okay?” Walker sighed. 

“You ever jump on top of a grenade?” Bucky shot back but he wasn't met with the answer he wanted. 

“Yeah. Actually, I have. Four times. It’s a thing I do with my helmet. It’s a reinforced helmet. It’s a long story, but, any… Look, it’s 20 miles to the airport. You guys need a ride.” Walker got his driver to stop. “Get in.” 

You looked back at Sam and Bucky. You hadn’t said anything yet which Sam thought was a record of yours. You chose to give in and climbed into the truck with Bucky and Sam since your body was already aching from the previous fight. 

“Okay, so we’ve got eight Super Soldiers on a bulk supply run. Why?” Walker asked, his eye on you as you sat in between Bucky and Sam. 

“They say their mission is to get things back to the way it was during the Blip. Maybe they’re just trying to help.” Sam told Walker what he knew. 

“They had a funny way of showing it.” Bucky grimaced as a bruise on his face started to form. 

“That serum doesn’t exactly have a great track record. No offence.” Walker looked over at Bucky as he hinted at the winter soldier. 

“We need to figure out where they’re going.” You wanted to shift the attention away from Bucky. 

“She speaks? I have to admit I was starting to wonder.” Walker smiled at you which only made you want to punch him even more than you already did.  

“How’d you track ’em here? The Flag Smashers?” Sam could tell you were a second away from decking the new Captain America and hopping ship so carried on the conversation. 

“Uh, no, we didn’t track them, we tracked you, uh, through Redwing.” Hoskins notified Sam. 

“You hacked my tech?” Sam was beyond irritated at this point. 

“Sorry. It’s not exactly hacking. It’s government property. Kind of the government.” Walker laughed as he gestured to himself. “Does he always just stare like that?” He stopped laughing under Bucky’s stare. 

“You get used to it.” Sam muttered. 

“Okay, look, you know, things have gotten kind of, uh––”

“––Chaotic.”Hoskins helped Walker find the word. 

“Yeah.” Walker cleared his throat. “The GRC, they’re doing the best they can to get things up and running smoothly, post Blip.”

“Reactivating citizenship, social security, healthcare. Basically just managing resources for the refugees who were displaced by the return.” Hoskins tried filling you in as if you hadn't heard about it before. The GRC propaganda was plastered across all the cities in America. 

“The Global Repatriation Council does all that. We understand but why exactly are you two here?” You questioned, cocking your head towards Walker. 

“Well, they provide the resources and we keep things stable.” Hoskins replied first.

“Yeah, violent revolutionaries aren’t usually good for anyone’s cause.” Walker added on. 

“Usually said by the people with the resources.” Sam smirked at the men. 

“Well, we got a lot of resources. If you guys, if you joined up with us, we could––”

“––No.” Bucky shut Walker down immediately. 

“I got mad respect for both of y’all. But you were getting your asses kicked till we showed up.” Hoskins wasn’t helping the situation. 

“Who are you?” Bucky asked genuinely. 

“Lemar Hoskins.” Hoskins introduced himself once again. 

“Look, I see a guy hanging out of a helicopter in tactical gear, I need a lot more than Lemar Hoskins.” Sam backed Bucky up on that one. A name was nothing in this situation.

“I’m Battlestar. John’s partner.” Hoskins nodded towards Walker and you couldn't stop the smile that spread across your lips when Bucky responded. 

“Battlestar? Stop the car!” Bucky called up ahead. 

The car slowed as it pulled into a bus stop. Bucky pushed open the door and you followed. You couldn't stand sitting in front of that man in that uniform another second longer. 

"Look, I… I get it, okay? I get the attitude, I do. You didn’t think that the shield was gonna end up here. I get it, Bucky. And I’m… “ Walker turned back to Sam. “I’m not trying to be Steve. I’m not trying to replace Steve. I’m just trying to be the best Captain America I can be. That’s it. It’d be a whole lot easier if I had Cap’s wingmen on my side.” 

Sam scoffed at Walker’s choice of words. Wingmen? He really had the audacity. 

“It’s always that last line.” Sam jumped out of the vehicle and followed you and Bucky. 

Once back on the aircraft you stripped of your weapons and jacket. 

Sam and Bucky did the same. 

You sat down on your seat and rested your head back against the wall. You needed an ice bath. Your muscles were screaming at you. 

“You alright?” Sam asked Bucky as he sat, his eyes locked on the floor. 

You opened your eyes to look over at the men. 

“Let’s take the shield, Sam. Let’s take the shield and do this ourselves.” Bucky sounded pretty decided. 

“We can’t just run up on the man, beat him up, and take it. Do you remember what happened the last time we stole it?” Sam sat up slowly as he furrowed his brow at the idea.

“Maybe.” Bucky grumbled. 

“I’ll help you in case you forgot.” Sam proclaimed, “Sharon was branded enemy of the state, and Steve and I were on the run for two years. I don’t know about you, but I don’t wanna live the rest of my life la vida loca. We just got our ass handed to us by Super Soldiers, and we got nothing.” 

Even though you did spend some time in Wakanda under protection from their government, there was a period where you were on the run with Steve and Sam and it wasn’t fun. Being pardoned after the fight against Thanos was one of the best things that happened to you; it’s what allowed you to go home. 

“Not entirely true.” Bucky pushed himself onto his feet. “There is someone that you should meet.” 

Bucky’s eyes met yours and you knew who he was talking about. 

You had seen Bucky's past. Everyone of Bucky’s memories. You had seen all the death and the pain and the fighting. You had seen the Winter Soldier and pre-world war Bucky and you had suffered for it for some time. Nightmares used to plague you but you had managed to block most stuff from your mind over the years. Especially the Winter Soldier memories because that wasn’t really Bucky; that was a weapon made by Hydra. 

You had been forced by the team to check his memories to see if he really had bombed the UN but you couldn't choose how far you looked back, you gift made you see everything from the earliest childhood memory up to that moment. 

You stood and approached Bucky.

“Are you sure about this?” You whispered, taking hold of Bucky’s forearm as you pulled him to one side.

“He should know.” Bucky’s eyes seemed so sure. You dropped your hand down from his arm to his hand and gave it a squeeze. 

“Alright then.” You pressed your lips into a thin line as you accepted his choice. 

Soon enough the route was changed and the plane turned. 

“Will you come?” Bucky asked as the door to the plane opened. 

“I’ll wait here but call me if you need me.” You didn’t feel like seeing Isaiah. Some of the time if something from Bucky’s past showed up it could trigger his memories in your own head which you didn’t particularly enjoy. 

“Alright.” Bucky sighed but left without you. 

Only a short while later you had received a phone call from Sam. 

“Hello?” You answered. 

“It’s Bucky. He’s been arrested. There was a warrant out for his arrest.” Sam informed you. 

“Why?” You were confused. Bucky had been pardoned like the rest of you for his crimes and his warrant wiped. 

“He missed his therapy session or something. I’m heading back to your, we gotta go get him out.” Sam hung up pretty quickly. 

“Why didn’t you tell anyone about the super solider?” Sam asked you as you made your way to the station. 

“I only knew because I’ve been inside Bucky’s head but if I listed off every single person Bucky has fought or killed or wronged it would take me a while.” You hated admitting that but the Winter Soldier had done a lot of damage. 

“But this was a black super soldier who rotted behind bars for years! Being experimented on like a lab rat whilst Steve sat in the ice and Bucky ran around playing secret assassin!” Sam was angry and you understood why. 

“I didn’t know he was in prison. I only knew of him as the guy Bucky fought in Goyang and lost. I figured if Bucky wanted him found then he would say. It’s not my place, they’re not my memories.” You tried to defend yourself but you knew Sam would never understand your logic. 

“How can I trust you if you’re sitting on information like that?” Sam catechised you. 

“Because you’ve trusted me for years. I say what needs to be said and if it isn't useful to us at the time then I don’t bring it up. I have so much inside of here from people that aren’t even around more. When I go inside someone’s head the memories don’t just go away. Sometimes it’s hard to tell who’s memories I’m thinking of when I look back on things. I block what I can and deal with what I can’t.” You stopped Sam in the hallway as you snapped. You couldn’t believe he was questioning whether he could trust you or not after everything. 

“I know it can be hard for you. I can’t imagine what its like but there are some things more important than others and Isaiah. Isaiah is one of them.” Sam’s words just made you turn and head to the desk. 

You tried to get as much information about Bucky but all they instructed you to do was sit and wait. 

“Sam?” A woman approached you and Sam. You lifted your head up at the sound of her voice. “I’ve heard a lot about you. I’m Dr. Raynor. I’m James’s therapist.” 

You shook hands with the woman and introduced yourself. 

“I’ve heard some about you too.” Dr. Raynor smiled as she greeted you. 

“Thank you for getting him out.” Sam thanked her as he shook her hand but she only furrowed her brow. 

“That was not me.” She told you both. 

“Christina!” You didn’t need super hearing to recognise that voice. “Good to see you again!” Walker was signing autographs as he entered the station. 

“You gotta be kidding me. You know him?” Sam only said what you were thinking. 

“Yeah, we did some field ops back in the day.” Dr Raynor looked between Sam and Walker. 

“I heard you were working with Bucky, so I thought I’d step in.” Walker approached her which made you stepped back. “Bucky’s not gonna be following a strict schedule any longer.”

“We haven’t finished our work. Who authorized this?” Dr Raynor protested. 

“Um…” Walker pointed to himself. You felt a fire flare inside of you. “He’s too valuable of an asset to have tied up. Just do whatever you got to do with him, then send him off to me. Got some unfinished business, him and I.”

Walker then pointed to you and Sam. 

“You too, Wilson. (Y/l/n). I’ll be outside.” Walker backed away, sending a wink in your direction. 

You felt Sam take hold of your wrist quickly before you could even take the chance to lunge forward. 

“Breathe.” Sam told you. “We’ll deal with that asshole later.” 

Bucky was allowed through and Dr Raynor approached him immediately.

“James, condition of your release, session now. You too, Sam.” She insisted as she headed back towards the cells from which Bucky had just come from. 

“That’s okay. I’ll be out here with (Y/n).” Sam brushed off the offer except it wasn’t an offer. 

“That wasn’t a request.” Dr Rayor warned him. 

You pushed the man forward. 

“Quicker you’re in, quicker you’re out.” You told him. 

“Why doesn’t she want you?” Sam pouted. 

“Get moving before I get bored and decide to use John Walker out there as my new punching bag. Get myself in trouble.” You tried to make the man laugh but failed. He only groaned and dragged himself inside. 

It didn’t take long for Sam to storm out of there who was swiftly followed by Bucky. 

“Hey, you okay?” You asked Sam as he returned to you. 

“Peachy.” He sneered.

You sighed and followed both men outside. 

“Well, I feel better.” Sam announced once you were all finally outside. 

“I feel awful.” Bucky muttered which made you want to take his hand but you refrained as a siren drew your attention over to Walker and his buddy. 

“Gentlemen. Lady. Good to see you again.” Walker had a smile on that you wanted to wipe clean off. “ Look, if we divide ourselves, we don’t stand a chance, you guys know that.” 

“Well do you have anything that’s actually useful?” You folded your arms across your chest as you closed in on the men.  

"Well, the leader’s name’s Karli Morgenthau. We’ve been targeting civilians who’ve been helping Karli move from place to place.” Walker started. 

“They geotagged a location, then scrambled the signal. But our satellites have found their symbol popping up in various displaced communities all across Central and Eastern Europe.” Hoskins continued. 

“We think she’s taking the medicine she just stole to one of these camps.” Walker finished. 

“Well, there are hundreds of those all over the planet since the Blip. So I guess you’ll have to look real hard.” Bucky’s glowered at the man as he leant on the cop car. 

“Good thing I have 20/20 vision, huh?” Walker smirked as he snapped back. 

“Where is she now, Walker? Do you know?” Bucky rose his voice. 

“No, we don’t know, Bucky. It’s only a matter of time before we find out.” Walker rose his voice also. 

“Things are really intense for you, aren’t they, Walker?” Bucky was being cocky. You had to stop yourself from finding it amusing. 

“Take it easy. Look, Walker’s right. It is imperative that we find them and stop them. But you guys have rules of engagement and all kind of authorizations you have to get. We’re free agents. We’re more flexible. So it wouldn’t make sense for us to work with you.” Sam interrupted and seemed to clear the air a little. You took his last words as a chance to leave but Walker wasn’t done.

“A word of advice, then.” Walker stopped you all. “Stay the hell out of my way.”

You watched the two men walk away. Your jaw clenching together to stop you from saying something you’d regret. 

“Come on.” Sam urged you on and you forced yourself to walk away. 

Once you were far enough from the station Sam asked you both what you were thinking. 

“Well, I know what we have to do. When Isaiah said ‘my people’...” Bucky was the one of out you both to speak first. 

“Oh, don’t take that to heart. That’s not what he meant.” Sam began. 

“No, he meant HYDRA. HYDRA used to be my people.” Bucky corrected him. 

“Not a chance.” You shook your head, putting your foot down. 

“Walker doesn’t have any leads.” Bucky claimed. 

“Bucky, I know where you’re going with this and I’m saying no.” You couldn’t believe he was even suggesting it. 

“He knows all of HYDRA’s secrets.” Bucky tried to reason with you. 

“Don’t you remember Siberia?” Sam also knew exactly what Bucky meant. 

Bucky nodded. 

“So you’re just gonna go sit in a room with this guy?” Sam stared at Bucky with a mixture of shock and concern. 

“Yes.” Bucky was hesitant to answer which only made you hate this idea even more. 

“Okay, then.” Sam sighed. “We’re gonna go see Zemo.” 

“No! No, we aren’t not going to see Zemo!” You demanded causing both the boys to stop. 

“(Y/n), it’s different now.” Bucky declared. 

“It’s the only lead we got.” Sam was actually on Bucky’s side. 

“What? And you think he’s just gonna help us like that?” You scoffed out of disbelief. 

“We have to try.” Bucky started to walk again. 

“I trust this guy about as far as I can throw him, Buck!” You exasperated. 

“That’s more than me.” Sam murmured but you chose to ignore it. 

“(Y/n). We’re going.” Bucky wasn't arguing anymore. It was going to happen. 

(PART 2 HERE)

Bucky Barnes Tags

@florencxs​ @mystictimetravelcolor​ @yourphotographyteen16​ @shannon-posts​​ @darkbluenovember @sexwithhiddlesbatch​

[kalpasio]

Heart of Stone, Heart of Fire

B is for Boredom

A Kalpas x Apathetic!Reader fic, Chapter 2 below!

Elysia told you very little about your fiery opponent, dodging questions in that way only she can. It wasn’t until you were assigned a mission with him that you got any information.

The job was a Cocoon operation involving you, Sakura, and Kalpas. As you had never been on a mission before, you were mostly shadowing, but it was still important to know your allies. Or at least that’s what your superior said while giving you both of their files, and likewise, handing them yours.

Sakura’s was long with the number of ops she had completed. Whole pages were redacted, but you were given a basic run-down of her strengths and weaknesses. Kalpas’ file was long for a different reason.

He had a record of getting in trouble, including the fight you two had in the gym near the end of the list. There was a large section that had been redacted, but you knew what it meant. He’d spent time in the Deep End. You knew because you had the same black bars covering a much larger portion of your file.

Honestly, Sakura wasn’t sure if Kalpas could read or not, but he certainly like doing it regardless. This meant she usually ended up reading any briefing documents herself and then relaying the information to him. Your file was short and sweet and she expected it to take a minute or two to read.

She was correct, for the most part. It took two minutes to get through everything, and most of that was scrolling past information she wasn’t privy to. You’d joined Fire Moth several months ago, a good fighter with promise. Tended to be excitable, and slightly reckless in battle, but your skill backed up every crazy decision you made, and you seemed like a perfect candidate for the Meta-Morph Surgery.

Everything after that was blacked out. You must��ve been sent to the Deep End right after your test, and for a very long time. More of your file was blocked than was visible, notes only returning when you were tested for the second time and cleared for field work. As soon as the words “Deep End” came out of Sakura’s mouth, she had Kalpas’ attention.

“Knowing how the first test went, either being down there calmed them down or…”

“Aponia,” he ground the name out through his teeth with venom reserved specifically for her. Sakura sighed, tuning out the yelling and flames that quickly filled the room. Resting her hand on her second sword, she thought to herself for a moment.

The discipline she had received had been helpful, it brought her peace of mind, yet few seemed to agree. Would you be of the same mind as her, or did you hold the same resentment her partner was so clearly showing?

The answer was neither.

“My discipline was necessary. A little…more potent than I had hoped, but it has allowed me to continue fighting Honkai. It was for the best.”

Sakura had tried to bring the topic up casually, but you had no understanding of subtlety and outright told her. You had been in the Deep End,, and you had received a discipline. Kalpas was grumbling and pacing the length of the dropship you were on. You sincerely hoped the plane was fire safe.

In a rather impressive feat, the ship landed safely, despite the never-ending muttering. The sight in front of you was depressing, though no one would know it, looking at your face. What had been a small town was now a small ruin. The suburbs of a city who’s name you didn’t even know, and every person who lived there had been corrupted. A small outbreak hadn’t been reported because the family didn’t want to turn in their daughter, and the whole town had suffered for it.

Sakura didn’t need to say anything. There was Honkai in front of you. You knew what to do.

Not even bothering to pull out your sword, you made your way to the center of the area you had been dropped in. Zombies met your first and fell without getting close to hurting you.

On the other side of town, you could hear Kalpas shouting, and even further away, Sakura’s blade slicing cleanly through the air. As you got closer and closer to the largest concentration of Honkai energy, the number of zombies dwindled, and the number of Psychic Honkai Beasts rose.

They filled a mall parking lot—how fitting for suburbia—and at the entrance to the mall stood their leader. Once the first beast spotted you, the others on the outskirts of the group were running your way as well. Fine by you. Rolling your shoulders, you pulled your blade and let them come to you.

One slash was enough to take out the first three. Blocking an attack with one arm, you turned as though to ram your elbow into the beast, but your sword extended past the end of your arm and its tip made contact well before you did. Still keeping a firm grip on the monster, you spun back around, then used your momentum to throw it into the next group of Honkai, effectively clearing out another seven.

You must’ve gone through another twenty before noticing Sakura watching you. Kalpas gave her away, his stomping catching your attention, though it didn’t distract you from the fight at all. Sakura held an arm out to stop him from interrupting you and he actually listened and watched you work. Once all the grunts had been cleared, he jumped in.

Instinctively, your mind told you to tense up when you heard him cackle, but no matter how loud that little voice was, you didn’t budge. He roared and you calmly sheathed your sword. Meteors fell and you walked between the rocks as though it were only rain. Some hit you and you walked away only slightly flushed from the heat.

When you got to Sakura, she was eyeing you openly; something you’d gotten rather used to. Her withering look should’ve nailed you to the ground, but your steps didn’t falter for a moment. Kalpas’ gaze joined hers in staring, until you were out of eyesight and back on the ship.

Sakura and Kalpas walked into the dropship a minute after you, both barely lasting a second before spouting questions at you. How were you unharmed, how many Honkai Beasts had you been fighting, Why had you just walked away, the list goes on.

Kalpas sounded like he wanted to kill you for not answering, but wouldn’t let you get a word in edgewise. When you finally were given a chance to speak, your answers were give in a tone that made the reasons seme ordinary.

“I have an unbreakable shield, and—” More questions cut you off. The hell do you mean ‘unbreakable,’ and Where the hell is it? “And I fought around a hundred. I think. I am unsure—”

“Go back to the shield—”

“A hundred?”

Sakura and Kalpas talked over each other and you patiently waited for them to sort themselves out.

“Yes, a hundred. I believe. That is the rough estimate I saw before fighting.”

“And the shield?” Kalpas was growling in your face at this point, frustrated you still hadn’t elaborated on his question.

“It’s in my file,” you put a finger on the top of his mask and pushed the man out of your personal space. “My MANTIS ‘ability’ if you will.” You made air quotes with the fingers on one hand. “I am able to make a shield, though it only goes so far as my skin, we have yet to find a way to break it.”

Holding up one hand, a faint shimmer appeared around it. Sakura seemed content to observe—which she did intensely—Kalpas, however, was not. His hand came around yours, his nails digging into your palm as he tried to crush your fingers.

Letting out a sigh that was neither angry nor bored, and giving a look that was neither concerned nor happy, you kept your hand out. “I don’t think that is how most people hold hands.”

“I’m not holding your hand,” Kalpas squeezed your hand tighter, though it did absolutely nothing.

“I’m aware,” you moved your eyes to try and find anything to look at other than the mask that was pointed directly at your hand. “It was a joke.” Sakura actually snorted a little at this, before making a hasty exit to avoid the glare sent her way.

Completely unrelated: I was thinking about the timeline and I'm confused how Aponia is like "yeah the Herrscher of Corruption incident was pretty early on." but Sakura has a discipline and it doesn't have any issues, and like she's obviously had it for a while, it's not super new, and she doesn't have a ring from it as far as I'm aware. I just--my brain hurts so bad rn

[hoodie-prince-kid-archived]

So uh. It got to 890 words. Uhm enjoy! I'm happy enough with it, so here you go!

-

Jonah doesn't know what he did in his lie of a life to deserve this. He had just found that first bit out earlier that week. He wasn't fully his own person. He was just a clone. A science experiment. A test to see if mankind could without ever pondering if they should. Running from that facility, from the secrets, from all the ruins of his old life that he wanted to bury? It shocked him. Jonah was still in shock of what happened. But he supposes it got better, because at least Rowan was there for him that time.

When Jonah first ran after being hurt, he was alone and soaked by the pouring rain in seconds. This time, after running, Rowan was with him. Beautiful, perfect, amazing Rowan who cared about him and would protect him. They would let Jonah lean against them and would talk him through all the bad experiences he had gone through. The two would also talk about what they had seen together, but Rowan was always so ready to dismiss that.

This night was different, it was one of the worse ones. Recently Jonah had been staying in the same living space as Rowan. Some dumb excuse he can't remember in the middle of the night through his tears. He was jolted awake from another memory morphed into a nightmare, and he sat up on the couch he insisted sleeping on, and cried. Heart wrenching sobs left his body as he broke down.

He must've been too loud, which he planned on apologizing for later, because not even 10 seconds later Rowan was out of their room, on the couch, sitting next to Jonah. If it wasn't for the old couch slightly creaking, he would have never noticed them walk up into the space. Rowan cleared their throat to more openly alert Jonah to their presence.

Jonah turns his head to the side to try and apologize, but Rowan shakes their head. They seem to not be in a talking mood, but who would be this late at night? Rowan holds their arms open, a silent invitation for a hug or a shoulder to cry on should Jonah need it. He was exhausted, so he lightly fell forward and let Rowan hug him. That was another thing he was getting used to, non-violent physical contact. It had been awhile since he received any physical affection, but being in Rowan's arms? Feeling them hold him? It made Jonah feel safe, safer than he had ever really been.

After staying there for a few moments, Rowan speaks briefly. A simple question. If Jonah would like to come back to Rowan's room with them. It was a simple yes or no answer, and yet Jonah waged an inner war with himself over what he would say. He didn't trust his voice right now, so to get what he really wanted to say out, yes I would love to, he instead nodded his head.

Another thing off with Jonah, was that he was a bit small. Definitely short when compared to Rowan. Being small, and kind of skinny due to previous events and living conditions, it was no surprise Rowan could carry Jonah. Jonah just didn't expect it, to be picked up and held by comforting arms. To love the feeling of being carried was certainly new, but Jonah didn't speak up. He didn't have to, and he sort of didn't want to either. So he simply let Rowan carry him back to their room.

Jonah may have blacked out for the not even full minute it took to be picked up, briefly carried (and held) to Rowan's room, and set down on their bed. He woke up from whatever daze he was in once Rowan set him down in a seated position on the side of the bed, and they sat down next to him. Rowan looked exhausted, no wonder they didn't talk, but there was something in their eyes as they looked to Jonah. Neither of them recognized the exact feeling, but Rowan knew a bit about it. Adoration, maybe even love, just admiration of how amazing and. Frankly? Adorable Jonah was.

Neither of the two could count how long they started into each other's eyes, before Rowan decided to lay down. Jonah looked to them, unsure of what he should do, before Rowan jokingly rolled their eyes and opened up their arms as if offering a hug. Jonah processed this for a moment, before his eyes lit up, realizing what Rowan meant. Rowan had a questioning look in their eyes, and Jonah decided that it didn't matter anymore, he, well, he hoped he was only going to live once.

Jonah layed down and let himself lean into Rowan, he could feel the blush erupting on his cheeks and hoped that Rowan's vision in the dark wasn't anything special. Rowan hugged him back and seemed to be content to just lie there, cuddling Jonah. And Jonah was too, it felt safe, and right and all of these good feelings he rarely felt. So Jonah let himself fall asleep while being held. And for the first time in a while, Jonah felt like he actually rested during his time asleep, no interruptions by nightmares to scare him awake. Just comfort, and the feeling of being loved.

-

May not be my best work but for pure comfort with the hurt only barely mentioned? Nothing to go off of other than cuddling? No previous plans? I think I did well enough.

Sjjdnsbssbva it's SO good I absolutely love it!!!!!! So soft,,,,,

[fipindustries]

if i may offer a different perspective here.

if i understand OP here, they gesture at religion as a way to fulfill a need for purpose and meaning in life. religion as a metaphysical tool to acquire a sort of, um, direction? framework? orientation? perspective? im not entirely sure how to put it into words beyond what OP said "a need in people to question who we are to each other and Why We Are Here"

and to be sure, i have those same needs as well, i believe all humans have and they are a fundamental thing that everyone should be free to pursue. and i have, personally, found the way to fulfill them with things other than faith or religion.

the way i did is, well, accept that fundamental axiomatic values are arbitrary and arise from deep biological evolutionary conditioning. that the universe doesnt have an intrinsic fundamental underlying telos. yet i still care about love and beauty and justice and happyness. i care about those values because, well, i cant not care, i am literally programmed to care for them. and i am not disheartened by this because it doesnt stop me from being happy. even when i know love is just chemicals in the brain, that doesnt stop those chemicals from feeling good and so if i can still experience happyness and love and conection and contentment then i am fine with accepting a borderline nihilistic view of the universe.

that is the way in which i personally choose to live my life and thing about the world. this is the part where i am supposed to say "and other people are free to choose fulfillment and meaning on their own way"

but

at risk of sounding like a vegan who claims that everyone should be capable to stop eating meat because they themselves were capable of doing so, i do believe that it would be best if most people also found things other than faith or religion or god, however metaphysical that god might be, in order to fulfill those needs for meaning.

because i think there is something insidious in the search for meaning where there is none. trying to construct or find a "God" of sorts (assuming this God is some kind of entity or agent with values, some kind of compass, some kind of measurement and not just another word for blind nature or causality or a god of the gaps) is a crooked foundation to build a philosophy of life upon, which will lead to the rest of the edifice to lay slightly askew. is a failure of rigurous thinking. its a type of mentality that doesnt have to be harmful in the immediate time or in this specific sense but that has a bad tendency to fester into really toxic ways of viewing the world.

its a leap of faith onto the territory of that which cannot be proven or known which i feel is fated in the long term to lead to bad answers and thus to harm, way way way down the road.

now this is all being too cautious by half, it does sound a bit like an appeal to a slippery slope. but i have seen people fall down that slope time and time and time again.

i do want to make it clear, none of this gives any kind of license to be rude or mean or an asshole, as many atheists have been online. this does not give a moral imperative to have to go out of my way to make people change their mind. first because is just not pro-social, second it will just make people dislike me and third, im not even going to succeed in changing anyone's opinion.

god i hate smug athiests so so much

if you go around saying shit like "lol religion is stupid and only idiots have faith" you are just as much of an obnoxious asshole as christian proselytizers sorry

if you wanna have a real discussion on the merits of faith you need to start from a good faith perspective where you DON'T assume everyone who disagrees with you is a moron who can be disregarded. consider for two seconds that you arent the super genius you think you are, and something that is present in literally every human culture throughout history might, in fact, be slightly more load-bearing than you think.

[an-ambivalent]

Sukuna x Uchiha! Reader

A/N: This is purely for my own self-indulgent purposes -- expanding on this scenario I was daydreaming about. You are invited along to read about my cringefest scenario but only I’m allowed to call it cringe. 

Headcanon synopsis: You are amidst fighting Kabuto with Sasuke and Itachi in the Fourth Great Ninja War when the strangest thing happens. Between struggling to stay conscious from the poison that’s slowly eating you alive to trying to focus on the lengthy explanations of never-heard-before jutsus’ between the two emo brothers, the clash of such jutsus teleports you to another world during another fight. There, the line between enemies and comrades is nonexistent. However, one thing is certain: apparently you wear the same face as of a thousand-years-old demon’s deceased lover. 

For clarification, you are not related to Sasuke and Itachi because that would mean this “reader” insert has fixed looks of black hair and black eyes. You are from the same clan with abilities like the Sharingan and affiliation to fire chakra nature. But fill in your blanks of whatever you want to look like. 

Warnings: This has very minor spoilers about the JJK manga, specifically Sukuna’s abilities. So read at your own risk. It’s just a bunch of OP assholes trying to one up each other ig :P 

                                                          ~***~ 

The rustic smell of blood is present profoundly in the atmosphere. The heavy rain that is suddenly drenching you, and increasing the heaviness and wetness of your clothes and making them stick disgustingly to your grime skin, does nothing to waft away the awful smell. It washes off some of the dried blood from minor cuts and other injuries you had acquired during your fight with Kabuto, triggering your pain receptors in response and causing stinging and burning of pain. But for someone like you who has already been traumatised from the blood shed you have experienced as a ninja, the revolting smell of blood and the burning pain is nothing new. However, the thing that is new is the rain. It had abruptly replaced the mid-day sun that shone horribly bright. During the war, the clear and sunny weather felt like it was nature’s way to laugh at everyone’s face when they were fighting and barely hanging onto their life. The sudden darkness of the night and the open space you find yourself in, instead of the dark cave you were in just mere moments ago, has your shoulders becoming tensed and your blood flow and heart-beat going faster. 

Instantly, your eyes are their notorious deep red colour presented with three black tomes. Your refined shinobi instincts kick in, and you catch the lean and spikey black-haired male that was thrown your way. There is blood trickling down his mouth, and as you held him momentarily, it was easy to deduce that some of his ribcages and other bones were broken, in addition to more serious injuries. Like how milliseconds decisions were required as a shinobi because they determined life or death,  the abrupt situation you were thrown into also required it. You carelessly threw him aside as a half-naked pink-haired teen with black markings on his skin, a hole in his chest and blood dripping down his abdomen charged at you. 

He aimed a vicious and strong punch to your face, which you avoided by side-stepping. When he repeated the gesture with his other arm, you blocked it with your forearm, before twisting your body at an angle, and delivering a strong kick to his stomach and sending him flying away. Using the new created distance to your advantage, you quickly made the necessary hand-signs with practiced ease, before taking a deep breath in. 

“Fire Style: Great Fire Dragon Jutsu,”  You exclaimed, as you exhaled a vicious and high temperature dragon head-shaped flame towards your attacker. 

Sukuna, currently in possession of Itadori’s body, was internally questioning whether the very few hits that Megumi had landed previously had damaged his brain because there was absolutely no way he had seen her face. There was absolutely no way in hell that a mere human would be strong enough to land a painful kick on him. Evidently, the thought that he had seen her face had made him falter in his concentration so it was probably a lucky hit. But the giant dragon fireball that was currently heading towards his way was not going to be a lucky or a pleasant hit, if he did not counter or dodge it. Attacks with fire meant play-time for Sukuna. So, he simply waited until your attack was mere inches away from him, before he easily manipulated the flames and extinguished them. Then, without any current motivation for more fighting, he started to walk towards you. 

Your eyes widened when you saw your jutsu disappear in thin air. Then, when you saw the pink-haired male began walking towards you nonchalantly, your hand automatically went to your back and you unsheathed your sword slightly. Cracks of lightning sparked through it. You stayed grounded on your fighting stance and narrowed your eyes at him, ready to strike should he attack. 

The intense cold expression you wore on your face with her familiar features was so strange to see; and usually, Sukuna enjoyed fighting and taunting seemingly stuck-up people like you. Overpowering such humans before burning them to their demise -- it was such a great way to pass his time. But right now, right now, he was infuriated. He was surprised, and somewhere deep down in his dead demonic heart, was a small sense of longing and hope to regain what used to be. 

His red magenta eyes dug through you in a fierce glare as he stopped just a small distance in front of you. 

“Oi, who are you?” 

The corner of your lips twitched up into a smirk. 

“It’s customary to introduce yourself before asking for someone else’s name. Surely, you have that much manners?” 

Your reply evoked an eyebrow twitch from Sukuna. 

“You’re unnecessarily cocky, aren’t you? If you knew who I was, you would know what was good for you. It’s no wonder it’s so tempting to kill you humans.” He remarked easily, and took a step closer towards you. 

You raised an eyebrow in question. “Me, a human? You’re talking as if you aren’t one.” 

His lips stretched into a wide grin. “Huh, so you can see me and you’re attacking me, seemingly a fellow human without mercy and not actually knowing who I am or what’s going on?” 

It was something about the way he was questioning and taunting you like you were a three-years-old kid that made you glare at him. But, there were no hints of deception or lies in his words. And the nagging feeling you felt churning in the pit of your stomach made you know that something was seriously wrong. 

“So what are you then, a monster? That’s quite subjective though isn’t it; I kill another to protect myself or my loved one, I’m a human in their eyes. The loved ones of the one I killed in order to protect myself, I’m a monster in their eyes. There’s no difference. Although, why I’m suddenly here and not where I am meant to be... maybe only you can answer that. And if you know who I am, you would know what’s good for you. Answer me or you will regret even having the nerve to look in my eyes.” You warned, and just then, the black tomes in your crimson irises started spinning. 

Your cold threats, your body bent in the certain angle it was, ready and just waiting to kill something, and the power radiating off of you -- especially your brilliant blood eyes, it sent unanticipated shivers down Sukuna’s spine. His grin widened until his canine were visible, and just before he could respond, Megumi’s shouts were heard from the distance, interrupting his intense stare off with you. 

“What the hell are you doing?! Get out here civilian before he kills you!” 

Your gaze switched to him and the moment your cold red eyes met Megumi’s eyes, they widened in surprise. Then, finally, the poison that was still in your bloodstream sent sharp waves of pain to your head, causing you to wince and hiss out in pain. This was not missed by the two men around you, especially Sukuna, who was watching you like a hawk. 

He smirked. “Reaching your human limits already?” 

You scoffed. “Hardly. But looks like our chat will need to end here.” You responded easily. Then, with a single hand-sign and your Sharingan tomes spinning more fiercely, you triggered a low-level genjutsu. Both males, who did not know better than to not look into your eyes, were easily swept into it. It was solely for a moment; however, that moment was enough time that when the world around them stopped spinning, there was not even a single clue of you ever being there was even left. 

[whistle-free]

Helloooo, just curious as to whether the most recent verdict proves Depp wasn’t abusive? He won the defamatory case, so the op ed was proven false I think? But what does this mean when Depp was seen as guilty of 12 out of 14 counts of DV by the U.K. courts? This the defamation verdict cancel out the guilty of DV verdict?

Similarly, does the verdict mean Heard was the abuser? She lost the defamation case, but she wasn’t proven guilty of abuse. But then why are people convinced she was the abuser, and why didn’t Depp take Heard into court for DV?

Hi! These are great questions!

(Going to try this again because Tumblr ate it the first time I tried to answer.)

The answer to your first (and fifth) question is likely going to be slightly unsatisfying, because this was a civil defamation case, and therefore the verdict neither proves or disproves that either Johnny or Amber were abusive to the other as that wasn't what was being ruled on.

However, you are correct in believing that since the jury found in favor that the three statements were defamatory that the statements Amber made in the op-ed were determined to be false.

As far as the UK case I'm currently drafting a post on that now that will go into more detail, and I encourage you to stick around for that as it will answer your question better than I could sum it up here, but in short; The Virginia verdict technically doesn't 'cancel out' the UK trial verdict, but it does potentially open some doors to appeal that ruling. There was a reason the judge in the Virginia case said JD did not get a fair trial in the UK case, and I'll explain that more in the upcoming post.

To reiterate the above for your next question, the Virginia case was a civil defamation suit, and you'd be correct in saying that AH wasn't proven guilty of abuse because no one is 'found guilty' in civil cases, they are only found to be liable. The reason many are convinced AH was the abuser despite no former ruling for or against the matter is due to watching the trial and coming to that conclusion after weighing the evidence presented, namely the audio tapes where AH admits to striking JD and to starting physical fights.

As for why Depp didn't take Heard into court for DV, only he can really answer that. However, one could speculate many things, like maybe he thought no one would take him seriously as a man claiming to be a victim, or perhaps he, like many victims, didn't want to press charges against his abuser for any various reasons not limited to fear, love, or even just not wanting to relive any abuse any more than he had to. There's also the matter of the alleged abuse having taken place in different countries and states, all with their own statutes of limitations which could make pressing charges tricky.

Hope this answers your questions! If I misunderstood something you asked, or I wasn't clear on something, feel free to let me know!

[frobin]

Random consideration: there is an online legend about Oda can change story events if someone on the web/fans guess the thing. So... what do you think about this topic? It can be really valid? If yes, even for whatever eventual not-canon ships? I don't know, because ships are just a very side element in the story, and not like main events of the storyline. (And for my opinion, for Jin:be father topic, I could agree with who said is for the age, maybe. Anyway, I will ship FroBin forever).

Hey anon! Thank you for your question!

Maybe Oda really made Jinbe the dad because of age. right now Oda and Jinbe have the same age (46). He has two children who are (if the internet and my math are correct) 15 and 12 years old. So may it’s not unlikely? If he connects with Jinbe he would rather see him as a dad than a grandparent or a weird uncle. 

-

Now, to the rest... I have to say sorry for answering so late but as of right now I’m writing parts of my answer and I literally pulling my hair because I really try to make sense of the whole situation and trying to understand the intention of a 46 year old japanese man. And this is long again so sorry about that. Anyway... 

I have heard about that. I remembered something about Oda not reading Fan Theories and now I googled once more. Apparently this is the newest Information:

"Oda once said he will change OP story if it coincides with fan theories. But according to TV show today, Oda will never change his plan about "final chapter" even if a fan theory hits the nail on the head. Oda said in 1999 that he had already decided final panel and chapter."

https://twitter.com/sandman_AP/status/1352851201478418432?s=20

I don’t think Oda is actively browsing the web for OP content ( how would he have time to) but he gets fanmail with questions and suggestions. And considering that over 4 million people are One Piece fans... one of them has to get it correct eventually. Trying to avoid any similarity with any fan-theory is IMPOSSIBLE. 

And I do believe that Oda knows how he wants One Piece to end and won’t change that, no matter what. 

As for the details in-between........ I wouldn’t say Oda is not prone to be a Troll and sometimes downright an ass towards his fans. XD Never out of malice but because he thinks it’s funny. 

I’m also sure he will never focus on romance in the manga, but since love is an important part of life it will come into play now and then. Classic romance (?) more with side-characters  (Roger/Rouge, Sai/Baby5, Bege/Chiffon) than with main (Strawhats) but still possible.

He may very well edit less-important plot lines if they don't change the ending. 

That also includes, that I absolutely think it’s possible that the Strawhats will have romantic involvement at the end of the story. At the moment it is never in the focus, except for plot reason (Whole Cake Island for example, though that is an entirely different topic) but absolutely possible. 

Because the Strawhats boning each other or maybe someone outside of the crew will not change the story. It has no influence to anything, except if it’s on a higher scale, like if Luffy really suddenly married Boa Hancock. That would influence the political outline of the world.

Meanwhile Pauli/Iceburg or Noland/Cagara or Bartolomeo/Cavendish have literally no influence to the story (anymore). And I don’t think I have to start on things like other rare pairs or even OC-ships. 

That being said, and having more stuff in mind, I wouldn’t put it past Oda to actually focus more on Jin/Bin. 

Why? Well... 

we had so many interactions between Robin and Franky after the time skip that it was almost ridiculous. In every single arc we see them fight alongside each other. We had strong romantic tropes portrayed with them: 

Their meeting after the timeskip (Sabaody Archipelago)

Franky having his head in Robins lap (Punk Hazard) 

Wearing the same shirt (Dressrosa) 

Finishing each others sentence (Zou)

Franky offering Robin a ride and her answering with a heart (Wano)  

And the moment the internet exploded when Robin was holding Frankys face. Which yeah, only a Colorspread and not canon yadda yadda

For now let’s gloss over all the other moments that showed that they cared for each other. 

... so many.

Anyway what I want to say is that Oda had declared “All the Strawhats are in love with adventure.” and “I won’t focus on romance.”  but is seemingly showing a connection between Franky and Robin, that made one think that he might actually be aboard the ship even if the fandom itself is rather silent and small. 

Meanwhile when Jinbe appeared (in the timeskip) he was instantly a hit. His popularity then rose thanks to Fishmen Island Arc. And again I can’t blame anyone. On the other hand Franky always had a hard stance. This was recently shown again because is the lowest ranked Strawhat in the popularity poll. 

One (Oda) might come to a conclusion here:

Maybe people don’t like Franky and so would dislike FRobin. But since Oda also seems to enjoy grown up relationships (?) maybe he thinks Jinbe is the only reasonable replacement?  -> It could be a tactial decision. 

Maybe he really changed his opinion and personally likes one more than the other. He was a FRobin supporter but now likes JinBin more? It wouldn't change anything for the story and there wouldn't be any harm -> It could be a personal decision. 

Maybe he fears that he put too many hints in the manga and now has to paddle back? Because let’s be honest, until the colourspread with Robin putting her hand on Frankys face... the FRobin fandom was on the backburner. And so he wants to throw out some Red Herrings.  -> Again a tactial decision

Maybe he never inteded to make it  romantic and it is actually all just friendship. Subtext is something many authors use without being aware of it. (Just ask anyone who is a lesbian!Nami fan. They have good points.) -> A mistake from the very beginning. 

And you can use these same thoughts for every other non-canon ship. 

Please take everything of this with a grain of salt because I try to understand the intention of a man who is more than 10 years my senior and from a culture I can’t even start to try to comprehend (sometimes I don’t even get my own culture), who is the head figure of a money-making machine. So it’s hard to tell what else influences his decisions. 

My interpretations are influenced by my own experiences and knowledge which is big and vast but also stretched very thin. 

Last but not least I want to make clear that any speculation is really the same as asking a crystal ball. In the western fandom we have only few people who can even slightly try to give an insight to the whole thing and they (smart enough) keep out of any shipping discourse. 

tl;dr: I don’t think Oda will change the ending. But I do think that he is willing to change minor plotlines  and so yes I think Oda might change couples for any possible reason, as long as it does not change the ending, and he does not even has to choose a good reason because in the end they are his characters and he is free to do whatever he wants with them.

[onlyhereforangst]

WWR

Alright y’all a likely final WWR coming at you, you know 3 months late the day of the dreaded s19 premiere. This definitely gets ranty and emotional, if you’re a Gibbs stan scroll the fuck away & don’t send me hate anon. This is bittersweet and it hurts and I’ve been living in denial for months but I needed this little bit of closure before the writer’s absolutely fuck it up in less than 6 hours. I hope you enjoy my emotional ramblings & I’ve absolutely loved writing these for the past two years, i’ll miss it & your reactions to it dearly ❤️

Badass Ellie is allllllways a treat, and protective nick contrasted to her making albeit slightly reckless decisions is top tier. And then followed up by him being impressed as hell??? He’s like damn my girl just did that and I am not turned on, no way, we are working I am not turned on, nope. Nick sitting at Ellie’s desk in the beginning PLS. Feet kicked up feeling mighty comfortable for someone who hates sitting at a desk 👀 only ok with it when it’s Ellie’s, huh Nick? Also I love that he’s sticking with the nonchalant approach like he did when he found her looking up Eastern Europe locations. He knows if he pushes too hard it won’t go well, but he is still concerned for her well-being. Those pieces slowly clicking into place that something isn’t just off- it’s worrisome off. Because while yes he’s still nonchalant he’s a touch more serious this time, ignoring her attempt at a brush off and claiming “he wants answers.” It’s a subtle step up from 18x14, but it’s there. His spidey senses are tingling and he’s getting less and less able to hide his concern for her 🥺 even if he tries to play it off as flirty banter because yes he’s still gd impressed with her moves and even tells Vance as such essentially. 

Flash forward to at the stash house and they find the files plus the mini debrief back in the bullpen…I truly am inclined to believe Ellie doesn’t know here. I mean sure she realizes that the timing fits to a certain extent—she was at NSA when this happened, but I don’t think she knows this is the beginning of her end. She’s like “oh they’re selling secrets too” and “my contacts are all gone” like…I just, she seems too casual and not at all on edge. Idk so far I’m just not getting that vibe. She even brushed off McGee with the whole that was ten years ago almost like she didn’t remember it? But then at the same time she did bring up the whole legal vs ethical- she hedged, but she did mention it. She was not super gung-ho about OMG THIS WAS SO UNETHICAL WTF HOW COULD THEY DO THIS so still……..idk lets continue haha

Ok her knowledge of guns is slightly concerning but also Nick finds it concerning AND hot, boy can’t help himself lets be honest. That “damn” that slips out please, so many sirens going off in that head but also you’re just like well fuck talk dirty to me some more babe. Aaaaand here we go, here’s why I know Ellie didn’t know that odette was going to plant that shit right now. “Whoever took them from the NSA’s code-level servers risked a lot more than their career” with a little like duh face from Ellie SCREAMS that she did not, would not, EVER do that. The leak was fabricated by Odette and the fact that it would be planted during this case was all Odette unbeknownst to Ellie. Or why the fuck would Ellie so casually and somewhat judgmentally be like “who TF would leak something like that, man they stupid, committing treason and whatnot.” And Ellie is SHOOK when Vance tells her it was her. Like shook as in, blinks several times, shifts her weight back, glances at McGee with a flash of surprise in her eyes. That body language screeeeeams being caught off guard. If she had leaked those documents and if she had known this was a plant, she wouldn’t be caught off guard. And no matter how well you can try and play the part, that body language is legit. She’s shocked someone would even think about that and oh man, Nick. Nick’s face hurts me (and I know this is just the beginning). Because a man who has always seen himself as the bad egg, the criminal so to speak, the one who would do something shady before any of the others. He is shook and angry that Vance could even consider accusing Ellie of this. And then there’s the genuine concern etched on his face (and I’d know, the screen is currently paused on his face staring at Ellie with a worried furrowed brow and pain clenched in his jaw) because he knows logical Ellie wouldn’t do this but also he knows he’s been seeing little puzzle pieces fall into place of suspicious behavior and this is just one more thing that doesn’t sit right with him- doesn’t fit the woman he’s come to know and love. And while I know he truly believes she didn’t leak the files, I would bet right here he’s concerned about what the fuck she’s gotten herself wrapped up in. 

And she continues to be adamantly against this, like Eleanor Raye Bishop would NOT ever leak intel, not as a baby NSA analyst who believed she was doing the right thing always in her role. Never once bringing up questionable ethics, she thought it was the greater good, that little patriot. She’s so adamantly against it and then Vance asks if she was framed, and I think that’s the point where Ellie realizes this is Odette. The word framed all of a sudden clicks it all into place and she picks up it might be “go time” for her. Her glances over at Vance have changed, they’re more cautious, calculating. She hears they’ve been leaked over ten years ago and she knows that she didn’t do it 10 years ago so this very well may be the notice of eviction from Odette. The “we’re coming for you, Agent Bishop” and her little look, oooooh Ellie is fired up. Her switch flipped and she’s now gotta hunker down and defend herself until she can confirm with Odette. Vance doesn’t even let her get a word in to “fight” for her innocence. But the fact that she’s getting sent home pisses her off, she wants to be close to the investigation, know what’s happening, and I’m sure a part of her still resists being dubbed that traitor of the state. Who knows, Odette may have never told her how she would become a disgraced NCIS agent, and this may have pissed Ellie off because her integrity is something she prides herself on. Her line, “I’m not Gibbs […] I’m innocent line” is like a tiny bright spot to chuckle in during this dismal finale. Gibbs hate train right hereeeee

Love that Kasie is immediately on the Ellie defense side, not looking forward to her reaction to Ellie leaving IF they even decide to show us. 

Gibbs telling Ellie “sometimes there’s nothing left to be said” when he fucking up and left the team without so much as a goodbye or sorry for committing police brutality like fuck outta here Gibbs. Ellie is CLEARLY vulnerable right now, she’s been accused of leaking classified documents aka committing treason, she’s suspended, she’s on the brink of going on some dumbass undercover op and is begging, pleading, for any sign from you- her boss and father figure- not to do it. That he shows remorse for leaving the team without a word, that he regrets his decision to just disappear on them, that he wishes he hadn’t or he had done it differently. ANY kind of sign to tell her not to go through with what she’s about to go through. Literally any sign, and instead Gibbs gets defensive and bites back that she’s picking the wrong time in her life (LIKE HELLO YOU JUST SAID IT RIGHT THERE IDIOT, SHE’S GOING THROUGH SHIT MAYBE YOU SHOULD FIGURE OUT WHAT IT IS BUT NO YOU’RE WRAPPED UP IN GIBBS LA-LA-LAND AND HAVE SAID FUCK YOU TO YOUR SUPPOSED KIDS), so now Ellie is even more pissed and gets defensive back telling him he doesn’t even know what’s going on in her life and if that’s not a desperate cry for help I don’t know what is. like she is begging you Gibbs to pick up on it and figure it out, begging you to do your job that’s you’re supposedly so good at and save her from going through with this stupid mission. And then Ellie realizes that he stopped caring about them. He’d gotten so wrapped up in what he was doing, he stopped caring about their lives, the problems they were facing, anything. Him *not* realizing something was happening??? This is Gibbs, this is the man that always knows what’s happening before you even know what’s happening. So the words “I’m starting to realize that” hit like a fucking dump truck. He’s too preoccupied with his own boat-making nonsense that he can’t be bothered to have even an inkling of an idea of what’s going on in their lives. And he doesn’t seem to care that he’s dropped them from his life. And that’s when it hits Ellie, he’s never coming back. He’s cut the team out of his life and he doesn’t care. He has no regrets, he can’t even be bothered to have a single regret. And I think that, right there, is when Ellie decides she’s all in. I think there was always a small part of her that was hesitant to go along with odette. Hesitant to just upend her career and her relationships (aka Nick, but we’ll get to this), all of it. But hearing that the man she looked up to even though he’d made some mistakes, the man she viewed as a father, the one person who’d taken a chance on the nerdy analyst long ago, the one constant through all the turmoil she’d had, just left? Just left without a goodbye, without remorse, without even a parting thought for her? That was it for her. Whatever brainwashing Odette had fed her that she’d pushed back against from fully taking over finally broke free. And with it, Ellie grieves, she’s tearing up from knowing what she’s about to lose. Lose the man she viewed as a father, the coworkers that were like a family, the partner she’d found herself loving like she’d never loved before. 

Ugh poor hurt Nick, he’s willing to do all the grunt work that he abhors in order to free up McGee so he can save Ellie. Nick knows he doesn’t have the skills and I think that’s killing him even more so. He can’t just do it himself, he has to rely on someone else to clear her name (to which he bumped back to last name in a last ditch attempt to maintain distance and keep some semblance of emotions in check, which is failing miserably), and that is killing the doer we know and love. LOL “so you’re both wrong” this poor man I love him, I can’t wait for the tears that will come from me later 🥲 nick immediately taking Jessica’s help, I love it. He’s like I don’t give AF who will help us but I am clearing this woman’s name if it’s the last thing I do. And then she walks in and he’s frozen. All these emotions running through him and then she’s there?? And she ignores him??? Ignores all of them?? Rushes past and storms up to the director on a suicide mission??? Yeah this is why I said that conversation with Gibbs was her last nail in the coffin. She hadn’t decided to go through with it (hence why she hedged earlier with Vance) and then he went and was a piece of shit so she said the hell with it and went all in. She can’t even bring herself to speak at Nick, barely looks at him, because she knows, she knows if she speaks to him, if he gets a chance to try and talk her down in the heightened emotional state she’s in after talking to Gibbs, she won’t be able to hold it in. She won’t be able to deal with seeing emotionally charged and hurt Nick. So she ignores him and McGee and does what she thinks she has to do. How hard did it have to be for Ellie to tell Vance not to defend her, and that their intel was correct? 🥺🥺 it goes against everything she’s ever stood for and she just went and did it. She hates liars and yet she lied. She loves her country and yet she claimed she committed treason. Her body language once again screams uncomfortable but trying to play it off. She’d nodding and repeating it over and over because she needs to convince herself of the words. They leave a bitter taste in her mouth and she can’t stop it. All she can do is clench her jaw a little tighter and get it over with and convince herself. 

Nick is in disbelief, obviously. McGee looks like he’s five seconds from breaking down because his little sister is supposedly a traitor??? Like he can’t believe it. He’s hurt she would do something like this even though he still knows in his gut that it can’t possibly be true. And oh FUCK the part where Nick’s voice cracks asking if Vance fired Ellie. Fuuuuuuuck me. This man’s heart is breaking for what’s happening to Ellie and being completely in the dark about it. Sure they weren’t really clear on what “they” were after The Talk but still. He thought she was open with him. Ever since the jail cell, things had shifted and he thought she’d been honest with him. He’d picked up on those little things, but maybe it was just training or something, NOT committing alleged treason and quitting the one career she loved. Not leaving him in the dark and vanishing without so much as a word. Not that. Because she KNOWS his past, she knows how much shit he’s been through with people in his life leaving without so much as a goodbye. And his voice continues to crack asking about what’s going on because he’s literally in shock. McGee is desperately trying to keep it together, keep some sort of figurehead for the team. Nick is in shambles ok, just like I’m in shambles. He’s adamant she didn’t do it because he KNOWS her. He knows she would never in a million years leak classified intel and now he’s just confused like a lost and kicked puppy. She didn’t DO IT, and she’s not answering her PHONE. He just wants to talk to her, he just wants to know she’s ok, wants to comfort her, wants to convince her to stop and it’ll be alright and he’ll take care of her and he’ll save her because that’s all he wants to do and always has, right? Save her. Save her from everything in this world that could hurt her. Protect her from life’s dangers. Protect her because he can’t bear the thought of losing her. And that all is crumbling down around him. All of it, crashing down like an avalanche, ready to bury him alive in grief and guilt and despair and anger. How am I supposed to TALK to her, he just wants to fucking be with her. He just wants to be there. With her. For the rest of their lives.

Ellie looking at the hat, please. That’s a lifetime of regret packed into one facial expression right there. She’s looking at that hat, the one she cherishes from the moment Gibbs hands it to her, and knows it’ll be the last time she ever sees it again. It’s not something she can take with her, and it’s full of fond memories—most happy, some sad, a few bittersweet—but memories that have made her life whole the past 8 years. And there’s officially no going back, she’s admitted to treason, there’s no way out of that. She’s having to say goodbye to all of her career without saying goodbye to any of them, all of that is wrapped up in that hat. A hat that’s so simple but signifies so much to her. She definitely was not expecting McGee to come out and so her rebuttals to him are exasperated and grasping at straws initially. She tries sarcasm and then she tries to brush it off “it doesn’t matter, it’s done […] I get that, I don’t want to talk about it” when McGee voices that he’s hurt over this and her reputation matters to him. Because he’s like another brother to you dammit Ellie. Yeah he’s grown since he said Ziva was like a sister to him and just stomped on your heart, he didn’t say it then but you’re like a sister to him too Ellie. I love that he fights her on it, and Ellie is like shit I have to come up with something. I don’t think she expected McGee of all people to fight her on this and I’m so glad he did. A little bit of growth because he is not going to see another person he views as family leave him again. And Ellie’s half assed excuses please, all of it is just such BULLSHIT because when they first debriefed she was just like “ethical? Hmmm” nothing more, nothing about being a vigilante and being up in arms over this like she claims she was. Bullshit Ellie, bullshit. And the PARALLELS TO FUCKING GIBBS. THIS IS WHAT YOU DID GIBBS, THIS IS YOU. LOOK WHERE YOU FUCKING PUSHED ELEANOR BISHOP TO STOOP TO. McGee begging her to regret it and Ellie pulls a Gibbs and is like NOPE. WONDER WHERE THE FUCK SHE LEARNED THAT FROM HUH. Gibbs you are singlehandedly responsible for this shit and how Ellie broke Nick’s heart and whatever happens to her on this stupid mission. I’m glad your dumb boat blew up, you deserve it. 

“I don’t want protection” because I can’t have you all following me. 

“It kills me that I lied to the people I was closest to” not about what you think I’m lying about but what I’ve been hiding. It kills me that I can’t tell you the real reason for this. It kills me.

“It wasn’t years ago for us” McGee rip my heart out please it will hurt less. And Ellie just playing into all of it. Knowing that she needs him and everyone else to hate her and not trust her. Her entire livelihood and backstory rely on them hating her and not following her, believing she’s the enemy and she’s hid these kinds of secrets for so long. Believing she’s a criminal and it was all a farce. She has to play into it. She has to. It’s the only way she will survive, they’ll survive. Odette likely fed her this shit, cut all ties, make sure no one follows, make sure no one is attached, burn all bridges. 

Ah and we’re back to pissed Nick. Nick who doesn’t like to be left in the dark ever, let alone when it deals with Bishop. Getting his edgy self being rude to Kasie but Kasie doesn’t even bat an eyelash. She knows Nick is hurting and she reaches out to him, she doesn’t take his tone to heart because she knows. Nick saying he wouldn’t know how she’s doing is just like a knife to the heart. He wants to know, desperately. He once thought he was the person she would go to in times like these but now all he’s getting is radio silence, a cold shoulder, and screened phone calls. He’s in visceral pain from the thought of her going through this alone, pain from everything he once thought true and good being destroyed in a day’s time. And Kasie is shocked that Nick hasn’t spoken to her. If that doesn’t tell you she knows that they are a thing and the gravity of all this, I don’t know what will. Nick should have spoken to her, clearly he wants to, in every other situation he would have already. But Kasie (and Jessica) just realized Ellie is shutting Nick out and that is Not Good. 

Back to Gibbs. Fucking asshole he is. McGee comes to you desperate to help his sister, Gibbs’ “daughter” and he goes “I think she’s at a crossroads” ???? Acting like he didn’t fucking encourage her at this so-called crossroads???? Like ???? The fuck???? Her crossroads was painfully obvious when she came to talk to you and YOU basically treated her like you couldn’t care less about her. That you had no clue what she was dealing with in her life and said as much. So yeah, she WAS at a fucking crossroads until you SHOVED her into oncoming traffic and said have a nice fucking life. AND THEN. McGee wants to help her and Gibbs tells him he can’t??? “Not this time” bitch this is YOUR FAULT. YOU COULD HAVE HELPED HER. COULD HAVE TALKED TO HER AT LEAST SOMEWHAT AND YOU DIDN’T. YOU SAID YOU DIDN’T REALIZE SHE WAS SPIRALING AND THAT YOU DIDN’T REGRET LEAVING YOUR SO-CALLED FOUND FAMILY IN THE DUST AND GUESS WHAT. SHE WENT AND PARROTED YOUR WORDS RIGHT BACK AT MCGEE SO FUCK YOU GIBBS. 

Ooooh Nick looks lethal, love that look, hate why he has that look though. Lol Nick getting ready to go murder the dude in interrogation because he set up Ellie and he’s just ignoring the fact that she claims she committed treason because he already knows there is literally no way on earth that she did it. And Vance realizing that Nick needs to stand down like fiiiiiiinally someone realized it. Obviously he isn’t gonna listen and poor Nick, this boy has it bad and he’s truly just SO WORRIED for what Ellie is about to do. Because right there, the confirmation that the file was a plant, that was the final puzzle piece falling into its perfect place. Every single thing he questioned, every little moment he’d replayed in his head, it all made sense. And he was so very pissed she hadn’t come to him- and honestly I think part of him is trying to ignore the WHY that’s behind that because he truly wouldn’t be able to think straight if he went there. I think that would be his end, going into the why she didn’t trust him, why she lied, why it hurts him so much. It would be the end, and yet…we’re just beginning here. And of course he knows exactly who is manipulating Ellie, he hadn’t trusted that scum from the start. So of course he goes straight to Odette’s cabin and lays in wait, probably pouring over all the documents and things Ellie did or didn’t leave behind there. 

Ellie pulling up in the truck and that heavy sigh? Yeah, she’s still not convinced this is a good idea. She’s running on emotions but that logical part of her (and deep down, her heart, knowing what she’s about to do- who she’s about to cut out of her life) is whispering of how very bad an idea this is. She still has to gather her willpower to get out of that car but when it’s Gibbs calling her? The same Gibbs that basically just kicked her out the door without so much as a wave goodbye? Yeah, the emotion just came rushing back, pushing the logic aside. She claims she can’t tell Nick because no shit if she has to look him in the face and lie and still say goodbye, it’ll kill her. She’s honestly not sure if she can go through with it. 

OH we back to a Gibbs hate novel, hold on. “I’M REALLY PROUD OF YOU BISHOP” WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK. I’M REALLY PROUD YOU’RE THROWING EVERYTHING YOU EVER WORKED FOR AWAY, PUSHING THE ONES YOU LOVE THE MOST OUT OF YOUR LIFE, SACRIFICING YOUR ONE SHOT OF LOVE THAT YOU OF ALL PEOPLE DESERVE THE MOST. I’M SO PROUD OF YOU. Oh fuck OFF Gibbs. “Following your gut” oh shut UP. I just don’t understand this part. I don’t understand it, and I’m trying so hard for it to make sense, for it to be in character. Like does Gibbs have any clue?? I’m sure he recognizes the signs, I’m sure he has an inkling at this point. So how would he be proud? How the FUCK would he say he’s learned some stuff from her. Does he mistakenly trust Odette because of what she did for Ziva? Is he just so self-absorbed he doesn’t completely comprehend what Ellie is doing leaving Nick behind??? And Rule 91 is a load of shit. “When you decide to walk away, don’t look back” how FUCKING STUPID. Like Gibbs of all people, you should understand that is a SHIT rule. You’ve lost the people you loved dearly and you think she should just never look back? Like are you saying this so that Ellie has a clear head for the undercover op? Are you hoping she doesn’t get herself killed by being wrapped up in what she left behind??? What the actual fuck. Stupid ass rule honestly. It’s what you live by Gibbs and look how well that turned out for you. Look at the family you ditched. Nice fucking job. 

“It’s done” and “what are you talking about I did everything you asked” ok she’s 100% being manipulated and almost blackmailed somehow. There’s no other explanation. Eleanor Raye Bishop wouldn’t do this shit. Not willingly, not if she knew how much Nick loved her and how much she loved him (which if her words in just a minute are any indication, yeah she had a fucking clue). Odette calling Nick a loose end just SCREAMS how she purposefully fucking chose the moment Ellie and Nick started to get close to decide it was time for Ellie to go undercover. I just KNOW it. She’s a manipulative bitch and there is no limit to the rock bottom she will stoop to. 

Ellie knows who she’s talking about and the just look of fuck I have to actually tell him to his face. The doubt and grief and guilt and all of it, flashing across her face as she realizes she has to do this. She has to face this, she has to lie. She has to break his trust (not that she hasn’t already) something SHE made so painstakingly clear she needed from Nick. Nick is rightfully *pissed* I mean who can blame him. Ellie with her, “I have nothing to be sorry for.” I know Ellie is just doing her best to burn bridges, the hesitation and avoidance leading up to this lends itself to no other interpretation. She is going to say anything and everything to make sure Nick does not follow her. Make sure he stays as far away as possible from her. She can’t bear the thought of him getting hurt in some way from all this. Even though he may not get physically hurt, I don’t think she realizes the heart break is going to be worse. The painful part is Nick understands, he understands why she wants to do undercover. He had seen that glimmer in her eye when they were Charlie and Luis, he gets it, he’s been there. And he wishes so desperately he could impress every lesson he’s learned on her right then and there but at the same time he knows it won’t change a thing. He just wishes in vain that their love would change her mind, even if logic wouldn’t, their love surely could. I think Ellie starts to realize just how much Nick can see through her and that’s why she owns up to the fact that Odette planted the files, and also why I believe the leak was all an elaborate hack that Ellie didn’t know about. 

Then we get to the even more painful part of Nick giving us a glimpse of his raw heart. The why now with a voice crack and Ellie’s hedge at now wasn’t her choice with her own voice cracking, just is so so so telling. She could lie, she could really work at burning this relationship in a blaze of glory but she doesn’t, she owns up to the fact that she didn’t purposefully choose now (aka right when they were starting to figure things out between them), she’s not pulling the strings. Nick coming back with so you had a choice is like the little 5 year old boy whose dad is walking out on him again and it just HURTS. And at the same time Ellie is also the young, insecure agent right now who just wants to prove herself. She wants to be viewed as “ready” and the man whose opinion she bases way too much of her self-worth in didn’t say he was proud of her until she was upending her career to go on some deep cover op where she ditches everyone important in her life. 

“How long?” “Too long.” Yeah ok FUCK ME. They both know exactly what they’re talking about without even saying the actual words. Ellie’s voice cracks once again because of the emotion in Nick’s voice and what he’s implying. It pains her to leave him and what they’re becoming behind. It viscerally hurts her, you can see it on her face. She doesn’t want it to be too long, but she knows it will be. She can’t fathom that he’d stay or wait for her, she doesn’t think she even deserves that. 

Tbh it’s so hard to put this all into words. To fully convey to you how angry and hurt I am over this shit. Ellie’s being manipulated and hurt that she has to burn this bridge and push Nick as far away from her as possible. She thinks its her only out and what should be expected of her based off her conversation with Gibbs because then she parrots his exact words back at Nick when he begs, literally begs her to say something after she was willing to leave without saying goodbye (which we know is because she didn’t think she was going to be able to look Nick in the eye and still go through with it all), “sometimes there’s nothing left to be said” like fuck you Gibbs for planting that in her head. There’s PLENTY left to be said. Clearly Nick was not pleased you blew him off Ellie, he wants you to say anything that would make this make sense (we all are tbh) and she says you know my *favorite* line, “I didn’t mean for us to happen.” Nick is all of us with his “something else” because WHAT THE FUCK. This is how I know Ellie was going full throttle with her strategy of pushing Nick away. This was the one thing she could say that would hit hardest for Nick. The man who is insecure about anyone truly loving him and him being a person deserving of a love that “stays” and for Ellie to say she didn’t mean to fall in love and even though they did she’s still going to leave because it was never in the plan, just damn, stab him in the back and twist that knife Ellie. And just like her body language this WHOLE TIME 💀💀💀 she’s just shaking her head because she doesn’t even believe her own words, she doesn’t want to confront this, she doesn’t want to end this. There’s tears in her eyes because everything she’s saying is a lie and it hurts it hurts so damn much but she has to. She’s been manipulated into believing she has to do this, has to say these things. And his body language too, I mean he is tight. He is standing so rigid, hands clasped behind his back because he’s trying to convey openness and vulnerability and it’s so much growth for Nick, so much growth and Ellie is still ripping his heart out and stomping on it. And when she chokes out that goodbye you can hear and feel how final she believes it to be. She doesn’t think he’ll stick around or even want to. In this vein I think she underestimates his love for her here. And if the show goes a different way with it, they’re little bitches. It is in character for Nick to do everything in his power and outside of the rules to find & save Ellie. I will riot if I don’t see unhinged Nick some point early in s19 (I say like I’m going to watch religiously), because that is the only logical reaction to her leaving like this. 

The kiss. It’s a beautiful fucking kiss and it’s ruined by context. It’s an emotional kiss, Ellie throws her body behind it, gripping his face with both hands because she doesn’t want to let him go (even though she’s going to), she clutches to this memory like she clutches to his face. Nick’s clenched expression because he doesn’t want to open his heart up to more heartbreak but when he leans into the kiss and gives the kiss back you know he’s a goner. And maybe a part of him doesn’t care because this may be his last memory of her for a long time and he’s going to burn it into his memory too. It’s why he keeps his eyes shut after she’s left for so long, he doesn’t want to open them and the reality of her retreating back be the last thing he sees of Ellie. He wants the kiss to be the last thing, he doesn’t want to face his reality. His hands had even come out from behind his back, reaching out to her subconsciously willing her not to leave. Meanwhile, Ellie opens her eyes for that last kiss on the cheek to get one last long look at Nick, one last look that will hold her over for who knows how long. A look at his vulnerable face, a face she loves. A look that she hopes will keep her warm at night even though she knows she’ll never get it this close to her again because there’s no way in hell that Nick would entertain the thought of them together again after what she’s done. She doesn’t look back because she can’t. She can’t see Nick’s wounded face just standing there, broken or she won’t go. And Nick tries to stand resolute, the anger and pain flashing across his face before he grits his teeth together and *hopefully* resolves to find Odette and kill her I mean save Ellie I mean kill Odette 🙊

Anyways, there’s only a very specific way this entire finale makes sense. And I know Emily’s pregnancy threw it for a loop, but they can still SOMEWHAT fix this. Do I think they will? Hell fucking no. I have zero expectations, in fact negative expectations. I have a feeling what we were supposed to see is Nick going on an absolute swan rampage to find Ellie and clear her name throughout the first couple episodes of s19 and with Emily leaving the show, I’m not sure how they’ll twist this. I can see why they thought this was a fun cliffhanger because it would eventually be resolved and I do believe they would’ve eventually gotten ellick together after Nick found her. But unless Emily comes back at the end of the show, that won’t happen, at least not on screen. And with that I just 🥲 I’m still mad, I’m still broken inside but yeah. I’m a masochist before anything else apparently and so I made myself rewatch and write this out. A bittersweet pissed off adieu to the WWR. maybe one day i’ll find another ship & show that gets this level of meta out of me, but it’s been real ellick, it’s been really real ❤️

[refinedbuffoonery]

Looking Through A Window (5)

macriley married undercover au

masterlist.

Admittedly, this is kind of a filler/transition chapter, but I have big plans for this story, and I’m really excited for y’all to read what happens next. Expect an update every weekend this month! 

*****

The nightmare sinks its claws deeper as Mac tries to dislodge it. He knows it’s a dream, and Mac tosses and turns as he grapples for control of his mind. 

The images in his mind persist. He's back in the Sandbox, but this time Bozer is with him, and Bozer's dying from a bullet wound before Mac can carry him to safety. Mac's had the dream a million times, and it always ends the same way. 

I know you won’t let me die, Bozer says. But seconds later, his eyes turn glassy when his soul leaves his body. 

Mac’s throat closes, cutting off his oxygen supply, and for a moment he thinks he’s going to follow Bozer into the afterlife. 

It’s just a dream. He’s just lucid enough to remind himself of that. Wake up, Mac commands his body. Wake up. Wake up. Wake up. Wake up. 

The nightmare won’t let him. 

Suddenly a different set of claws grip Mac’s shoulders, and the voice ordering him to wake up isn’t his own. He tries to jerk away, but the claws dig in. 

Not claws, Mac realizes. Hands. Slender ones, with long fingers. Nails biting into his skin through his worn t-shirt. 

He knows those hands. 

“Wake up,” Riley hisses, and it’s enough to finally yank Mac from his dream. Mac’s eyes snap open, automatically scanning his surroundings. The bedroom is pitch black, but Mac can just make out Riley kneeling above him, her tired face twisted in concern. Her hands are on Mac’s shoulders, but not pinning him to the bed like he first thought. Her touch is light, and her thumbs make gentle sweeps across his collarbones. Mac’s own hands find Riley’s forearms, but he doesn’t push her away, nor does she lay back down. “You okay?” she asks. 

Mac tries to play it off. “Yeah, bad dream. That’s all.” It’s a bit of an exaggeration, considering that he’s drenched in sweat and the final and most disturbing seconds of the dream are lingering longer than the rest. He knows it’s not real, but Mac can’t quite shake the sick feeling. 

Riley exhales, and Mac finds himself mirroring her breathing automatically. Sliding a hand down to her wrist, he presses two fingers into her skin, feeling the steady thrum of her pulse. It’s faster than he expects. 

Almost as if in explanation, Riley says, “You scared the shit out of the dog, not to mention me.” 

Mac winces, feeling guilty. “Sorry.”

“You don’t need to apologize.” Slowly, Riley releases him and lays back down, leaving plenty of space between them. Mac misses her touch the instant she lets go. “Want to talk about it?” 

That throat-closing feeling returns as Mac contemplates what to tell her. Part of him wants to share, but a bigger part hesitates when the explanation dies on his tongue. “Not really,” he finally says. 

“Okay.” Riley says, pausing. “You’re wide awake right now, aren’t you?” 

This, at least, he can admit easily. “Yep.” 

There’s another long pause, filled only with the soft sound of their exhales. Just when he’s about to tell Riley to stop worrying about him and go back to sleep, she says, “Come here.” 

Mac stills. That weird tension still lingers between him and Riley, causing awkward silences and stilted conversations. So this…this is unexpected. 

He shouldn't. He really shouldn't. But, her voice is soft and reassuring, and who is he to turn down a free opportunity to cuddle with the woman he loves? Even if it might be a mistake. 

As soon as Mac scoots across the bed, Riley pulls him into her side, guiding his head to rest on her non-injured shoulder. Riley’s side of the bed isn’t nearly as warm as his, but her body is soft and Mac likes how they fit together. Mac can’t help but sigh in contentment as Riley lightly scratches his scalp, and he lets an arm settle over her waist. They’ve fallen asleep together plenty of times over the years, but she’s never held him. Not like this. His heart pounds at the intimacy of it all. 

But as Mac slowly starts to relax, the pulse in his ear doesn’t slow like it should. Because it’s not his heartbeat he’s hearing. 

It’s hers.

Does that mean…?

“So,” Riley says, breaking the silence. “It’s later.” 

The realization feels like a slap to the face. That’s why her heart is beating so fast. Not because of their close proximity, but because it’s later and there’s still that unresolved thing hanging between them. Mac’s fleeting hope that Riley’s racing pulse meant something else is nothing more than a fantasy in his head. 

Swallowing his disappointment, Mac starts, “Riley, I really am sorry—” She cuts him off. 

“Stop. You don’t need to apologize again. I forgave you the first time.” Her fingers sweep behind his ear, making him shiver slightly. “It’s my turn.” Riley takes a deep breath. “I’m sorry for not listening to you. Like, really listening. Your concerns are legit, and I shouldn’t have brushed them aside and followed Matty blindly.” 

Oh. 

“I hate this situation just as much as you do, and I’m sorry if I made you feel otherwise.” Her voice catches slightly. “Also, I lied to you this morning, in the car. I knew I needed to apologize. I just didn’t know how to say it yet.” 

Pointedly ignoring the intimacy of the gesture, Mac brushes his thumb over her ribs in a way he hopes is reassuring. “It’s okay.” 

Riley tenses beneath him, and Mac freezes instantly. “It’s not, but thanks for saying that anyway,” she murmurs, relaxing again. Her fingers resume their path through his hair, catching on the occasional tangle. 

Mac doesn’t know how to reassure her that it really is okay. So instead he confesses, “Sometimes I hate this job.” 

She’s quiet for a few long seconds before responding. “Me too.” 

It’s weird voicing it aloud. They’re all painfully aware of the downsides to the job, but rarely does anyone directly mention it. Maybe Riley is on a similar page as him after all. 

Mac questions, “Are we doing the right thing? Playing along and letting innocent people get hurt just so we can take down the whole organization at once?” He needs to know her answer…needs confirmation that this whole op isn’t just one massive wrong choice. 

“I think the good we do outweighs the bad,” Riley says after a few moments. “At least that’s what I tell myself so I can sleep at night.” She shifts, and for a brief, exhilarating moment, their hips press together before she pushes her knee uncomfortably into his thigh. Mac squirms, trying and failing to find a good position, ultimately taking a chance by slotting his leg between hers. Riley inhales sharply, but she doesn’t push him away. Mac tries not to read into it. Lying like this is intimate and intense and yet so easy. So right.

Mac pushes the heady feeling aside, ignoring the way it crackles in the background, threatening to consume him. They need to have this conversation, without distraction. Even welcome ones. 

“Riley, we helped them kill people,” he says, and Riley’s hand stills in his hair. 

“We can’t save everyone, Mac." 

The thrumming in his body stops so quickly Riley might as well have dumped a bucket of ice water on him. 

His heart cracks as she softly repeats, "We just can't." Like maybe she's breaking her own heart too by saying it. 

He wants to kiss her chest—to press his lips to her heart in an attempt to soothe the ache there. 

Mac understands all too well. It’s not the countless lives they have saved that stick with him, but the few they couldn’t. Zoe, the researcher who drowned in the Arctic to save her students. Jill, who fell victim to one of Murdoc’s murderous games. Charlie, who sacrificed himself so Mac wouldn’t have to choose between saving his friend and saving hundreds of innocent people. Lasky, the nuclear plant engineer who was just doing his job. Mac’s father. His aunt. Jack. 

Riley clears her throat. "So, yeah. I think we are doing the right thing. It just sucks.” 

Mac agrees, even though he can hardly admit it to himself. But there’s still one thing he doesn’t understand. “I don’t get how Matty seemed so okay with all of this,” he says. 

“Come on, Mac. You know Matty hates this just as much as we do. She wouldn’t ask us to play along if she didn’t think it was necessary.” Riley’s fingers resume their steady, sweeping path through his hair, and Mac takes comfort in the gesture. 

He sighs. “You sound like Jack.” 

“I learned from the best. Don’t tell him I said that,” Riley warns, but Mac can hear the smile in her voice. 

He tilts his face toward the ceiling, imagining Jack looking down at them from whatever afterlife he found himself in. “You hear that, old man? She admitted to learning something from you.” 

Riley snorts, giving Mac’s hair a sharp tug. “Oh shut up.” She means it to be playful, but it sends a bolt of desire through his body. 

It’s too much, with her hand in his hair and their bodies intertwined, and the intimacy may very well burn Mac alive. Every nerve in his body goes on high alert, and his grip on Riley’s rib cage tightens automatically. 

“Sleep,” she murmurs, clearly mistaking the tension in his body as coming from somewhere—anywhere—else. Riley is one of the smartest, most perceptive people Mac knows, and yet she has no idea how he feels about her. Maybe that’s a good thing, he reasons. It’s easier that way. Less complicated. 

Although full-on front-to-front cuddling isn’t not complicated. 

It doesn't take long for the gentle pressure of Riley's fingers to win out, and Mac melts into her touch, letting his body grow heavy. Sleep beckons, and his eyelids flutter shut of their own accord as Riley wraps her free arm around his back, pulling him closer. Again, he thinks she feels like safety. 

In his last moments of consciousness, Mac mumbles, “I like this,” before drifting back to sleep.

*****

For the first time, Riley is already out of bed when Mac wakes, and he’s positive it has something to do with the fact that he’s still on her side of the bed. 

Cuddling with her was a mistake. Even if it led to the best sleep he’s had in a long time. 

Burying his face in Riley’s pillow, Mac takes a deep breath. It smells like her. He hears the front door open and close, and then Riley’s muffled voice fills the apartment. Mac can’t quite pick up what she’s saying, but he thinks she’s on the phone rather than talking to Harley. 

Suddenly getting up seems like a daunting task. 

Not caring if it makes him a coward, Mac stays in bed, taking the opportunity to study the bedroom decor. This is day nine of the op, and before now Mac never bothered to appreciate the work someone put into setting up the safe house. It’s too modern and minimalist for his taste, but he has to admit it looks nice. The bedroom walls are a soft light gray, with a handful of paintings of different sizes and framed photos of him, Riley, and Harley scattered throughout. More of the photos Bozer took are in the hallway, but Mac’s never given those more than a cursory glance. 

Across from the bed sits the single, expensive-looking dresser, with overstuffed drawers that don’t quite shut all the way. One of Riley’s drawers is completely open, and the t-shirt she wore to bed last night hangs haphazardly over the edge. 

Mac’s eyes catch on the photo sitting on top of the dresser, beside the plant he keeps forgetting to water. It’s one of the wedding photos, and it’s the only photo Mac has really paid attention to, since he stares at it every day while getting dressed. The photo is of Riley and him slow dancing, and she’s looking at him like he hung the moon. And he’s looking at her the exact same way. 

More than anything, Mac wishes it was real. 

The bedroom door creaks open, and Mac cranes his neck to see Harley’s fluffy head peek through. She doesn’t enter. Instead, Harley watches him cautiously, almost like she wasn’t expecting him to be awake and is now unsure what to do. 

Mac pats the mattress. “It’s okay. Come on.” When she doesn’t move, he adds, “I’m sorry I scared you last night.” His apology must be enough, because Harley jumps on the bed with him. She stands between his outstretched legs as Mac rakes his hands through her fur, scratching her butt the way she likes. “How about I get you a new toy to make up for it?” he asks. Tail wagging, Harley licks his face in approval, and Mac laughs. “I’ll take that as a yes.” 

Riley raises her voice—she’s complaining about something, although Mac still can’t determine what—and both Mac and Harley turn their attention to the sound. 

Harley looks back at him, and Mac starts to think that he wasn’t far off the other day when he noticed Harley playing protector. He smiles softly. “Go check on her.” 

Harley jumps off the bed immediately, surprising Mac when she glances back at him on her way out the door. 

Still smiling, Mac gets up to start his day.

By the time he emerges from the bedroom, Riley is playing fetch with Harley in the living room while she’s on the phone. Surprised the call has lasted this long, Mac raises his brow, silently asking who she’s talking to, and Riley holds up a finger. One second. 

While he’s waiting, Mac wanders into the kitchen in search of breakfast. 

Riley’s next throw ricochets off the wall, and the tennis ball hits Mac’s thigh. “What do you mean he’s not in the database?” she shrieks. “Bozer, practically every criminal in the world is in that database.” 

Mac freezes midway through unwrapping a muffin. 

Riley pinches her nose. “Then run the sketch through the DMV database. The guy who tailed me has to exist somewhere.” 

He swallows. “Tailed?” 

“Hang on, Boze. Mac just walked in.” Exasperated, Riley moves her phone away from her face. “I took Harley for a walk while you were still asleep, and some guy tailed me. Don’t worry, I lost him long before returning to the apartment.” 

Mac bristles. Riley had been in danger, and he was asleep. Why didn’t she tell him where she was going? He tries not to think about all the bad things that could’ve happened. “You think this guy is part of the Patriots?” 

Shrugging, Riley says, “That makes the most sense. But it’s hard to know for sure when we don’t have personnel records.” 

That’s just one of many problems with this op—no official list of known members of the Patriots. Mac and Riley have no choice but to learn about people the old-fashioned way. 

Pinning her phone between her cheek and her shoulder, Riley retrieves the tennis ball from under the couch, her voice muffled as she asks, “Got anything, Boze?” A few seconds later, she groans, but Mac can’t tell whether it’s because of Bozer’s answer or the amount of hair now stuck to the visibly soggy tennis ball in her hands. He makes a mental note to vacuum again. “Thanks for trying,” she says before hanging up. 

Treading carefully, Mac asks, “Well?” He doesn’t need to be a genius to know that she’s still rattled, no matter how much she tries to downplay it. 

“His name is Peter Morrison, and he has three speeding tickets. That’s it.” Still holding the tennis ball, Riley’s shoulders slump as she sits on the arm of the couch. Confused why she stopped playing, Harley stands between Riley’s legs and whines, nosing Riley’s hand in an attempt to get her to throw the ball again. 

When Riley doesn’t oblige her, Mac asks, “Are you okay?” 

“Yeah. Why wouldn’t I be?” Riley says, but her voice is tight and she bristles when he moves closer. He knows she’s lying—they’ve both been lying a lot recently—but what Mac doesn’t understand is why. He knows why he’s lying, but why does Riley still feel the need to hide how she’s feeling from him? 

It’s like the intimacy of last night never happened. 

Mac takes the wet, hairy tennis ball from her hands and throws it for Harley. “Do you want a hug or help kicking someone’s ass?” The question earns him a small smile, one that makes Mac’s heart flutter in his chest. 

“I was thinking more along the lines of punching someone in the face, but I suppose we can kick them too,” she quips. Mac laughs, and the corners of Riley’s eyes crinkle as her smile widens. 

“Sounds like a plan.” Harley brings the ball back and drops it at Mac’s feet. “Last throw,” he tells her, knowing full well it won’t be. Turning his attention back to Riley, he asks, “How’s your shoulder?”

Absent-mindedly, Riley’s fingers trace the outline of a bruise peeking out from beneath her tank top. “It hurts. You grabbed it in your sleep last night, and I almost screamed.” 

Mac grimaces. “Sorry.” He wants to ask about last night and make sure they’re okay, but the words refuse to form. “I’m going to call Conrad and make him explain, okay?” 

“Okay.” Riley nods. For a second, it seems like she wants to say something more, but she ultimately doesn’t. Honoring her implicit request for space, Mac briefly squeezes her arm as he walks away. The gesture is a promise: I’m here.

*****

“This is unacceptable,” Mac growls at Ethan, later that day. After giving Conrad an earful over the phone, apparently Mac made a big enough fuss to warrant a visit from the leader of the Patriots himself. They meet in public—neutral ground—at a park not unlike the one across the street from Mac and Riley’s apartment. It feels wrong to use the term safe house, since it’s not as safe as they thought. 

“I’m sorry you feel that way, James,” Ethan placates. “It’s simply standard business procedure. I’m sure you researched us before formally offering your services.” 

Mac barely stops himself from making a face. Oh they researched the Patriots, all right. “Of course we did.” He really should do a better job of holding his snark at bay, but Mac lets it tint his words anyway. “But we didn’t invade individual members’ privacy or threaten anyone’s personal safety.” 

“My employee did not and would not have hurt your wife. She was never in danger, I can assure you.” 

“And how was she supposed to know that?” He’s borderline yelling, but Mac is too pissed to care. The more Ethan tries to convince him the situation is okay, the more Mac wishes they were closer to the playground so he could strangle Ethan with the chain from the swings. He snarls, “Explain that to me.” 

Ethan, it seems, is at a rare loss for words. Mac waits, forcing the other man to fill the silence. “I suppose she wouldn’t have,” Ethan finally admits, although he shows no sign of backing down. 

Mac stands. “Don’t let this happen again.” He starts to walk away, content with having the last word, but Mac stops dead in his tracks when Ethan calls after him. 

“If you won’t comply with the way we do things, then I guess we’ll just have to find someone else.” 

Mac spins on his heel. “That’s bullshit,” he spits. “You need us. You won’t find anyone better, at least not that you can afford, and we both know it. Your organization is small potatoes right now, but with our support, the Patriots could join the big leagues. So it’s up to you to decide whether you’re content with throwing your money at a pipe dream or if you want to actually accomplish something.” Ethan is taller than him, but Mac manages to look down at him anyway—something he learned from Matty. “The choice is yours. Let me know when you’ve made it.” 

Without waiting for a response, Mac shoves his hands in his pockets and walks away, praying he didn’t just ruin the whole op.

.

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[daisybeewrites]

Academy Blues

sometimes you punch the bag, sometimes to bag punches you

word count: 4.5k

warnings: none. heavy handed use of italics

ship: Dousy (Daniel Sousa/Daisy Johnson), background Fitzsimmons and Philinda

ahaha.. and the fun begins (the cryptic-ness is for a reason i promise)

“Ow!!” Daisy exclaimed. This was the second time today she had gotten distracted and let the punching bag swing into her. Sans Bobbi or Mack, her usual workout partners, there was no one to hold the bag still while she was pummeling it. Her side of the gym was entirely void of people, most opting to use the treadmills or other cardio machines lining the wall of large windows that faced the forest to the south, or stick to circuits on the resistance machines throughout the middle of the gym. The universe seemed to be telling her to get in some boxing, so she walked over to the bag with the intention of punching until her arms hurt.

Now her nose hurts, too.

“You need a spot?” May asked, silently crossing the padded floor to Daisy.

She nodded. Waiting for May to get into position, Daisy stretched out her arms over her head and across her body, twisting her torso to feel her abs stretch. When May gave her a thumbs up, Daisy started to punch the heavy bag again, this time with a little more force now that she knew it wouldn’t fly back and hit her in the face.

“Something on your mind?”

“No,” Daisy grunted. “Just slacked off the last few weeks. With everyone gone on break there wasn’t as much of... everything, I guess, to keep me in a routine.”

May nodded. “Breaks can be tough. No classes, schedule disrupted, more free time than you know what to do with. I get it. If you ever want a time-filler, text and I’ll be there.”

Daisy nodded, going back to silently punching. The breaks weren’t all bad. They only happened eight times a year, five two-week breaks and three three-week breaks. Enough time that those with families and lives outside of SHIELD could visit and vacation, but not fall behind. Plus, it gave Daisy the campus pretty much to herself. Only about forty students stayed at The Academy over breaks, and it seemed to decrease every time.

Another good thing about breaks was that Daisy got to know more people personally. Whether it was how the tall, fifth-year red head took her morning coffee or that the new group of first-years liked to run the same trails through the forest as she did. So, when an entirely new face had cropped up out of nowhere, Daisy was intrigued. He walked with a limp, had nice hair and kind eyes. She didn’t recognize him, and despite the fact that he had arrived the same day as the rest of the first-years, he was definitely the oldest of the pack. That was unusual, Daisy had thought, SHIELD almost always recruits directly out of high school or college. The last time anyone over the age of twenty-five had been accepted to the Academy was when Daisy herself had started. However, that was a bit of a… special situation.

Every morning, New Guy crossed through the computer lab and waved, smiling confidently at Daisy. His sudden appearance and amicable interactions confused her. Classes weren’t in session, but he always had a backpack with him. Maybe he had tutoring with one of the professors? A new student trying to catch up before the term even began — an enigma.

Once classes had started, he still came by everyday. Daisy liked to think it was because he wanted to see her. They had never spoken more than tired greetings to each other, and yet Daisy felt herself pulled towards him. She shook off the thought. It made her skin crawl, thinking about the last time she felt such a magnetic attraction to someone.

She realized May was studying her through the mirrors lining the wall next to the row of punching bags. She cleared her throat and asked, “Is my form okay?”

May gave her a long look that clearly said, ‘You know that your form is fine.’

Daisy pulled her eyes away from May’s stare, announcing, “I’m going to fill up my water, do you need any?”

May shook her head, pulling out her phone.

Daisy bent down to grab her water and headed to the back of the gym, towards the locker rooms. A couple of reusable bottle-filler stations were stuck into the wall, right next to the PT rooms. Daisy couldn’t help but peer into the closest one as she listened to the sound of water streaming into her bottle. It was filled with floor ladders, yoga balls, sports med supplies... New Guy. Huh.

Wondering why he would be sitting in a dark PT room by himself, Daisy took a swig of her water before continuing to fill it up. He hopped off the table as the lights came on, a young doctor-type walking in a smiling. She was reminded of his limp when he walked towards her, shaking her hand and flashing a large smile. Cute, Daisy noticed. Wait, no, what?

Daisy promptly turned and headed back to the wall of mirrors, choosing to ignore the smirk on May’s face.

“Ready?” Daisy asked.

“Actually,” May began, “Why don’t we get in some sparring? You’ve been at this for over an hour.”

Daisy caught the glance May threw at the half-assed wraps on her hands and nodded. With only a few jitters, Daisy quickly helped May unroll the sparring mats onto the floor. Daisy had only sparred with Yo-Yo since she got back from Columbia visiting her cousin. Sparring with May was an entirely different level.

After some warm-up drills, May silently took charge and got into a fighting stance. Daisy rose up on her tip-toes, then rocked backwards. The grey padding beneath her looked a lot softer than it felt while being slammed onto it. A quick lunge from Daisy and a swift deflection by May, and the two women were off.

Across the gym, Daniel Sousa and the doctor were chatting, watching Daisy and May.

“They look like they’re barely breaking a sweat,” Daniel commented after May leaped off Daisy’s leg, flipping forwards and attempting to grab Daisy around the shoulders. Daisy rolled backward, throwing May over her and getting to her feet as the shorter woman jumped up into a wide stance.

“You’ll get back to that level,” The physical therapist assured him.

Daniel shook his head. “Maybe. I hope so. If not, I’m a damn good shot, anyway.”

The doctor chuckled before motioning back to the PT room. “C’mon, you still have thirty minutes stuck with me before I release you from daily therapy.”

“It’s only been three weeks?” Daniel questioned, confused. They walked through a black door to a small room. Grey cabinets on one side, a black table on the other, physical therapy tools lined up in organized sections.

“Most of which was just assessing you. You already know the exercises and stretches, and you completed the physical therapy recommended by your primary care physician before you came to us. You have the strength mostly back in your residual limb, at least to the point where sparring shouldn’t do any damage. I still expect you to show up at least twice a week. Especially since you’re starting field training with May.”

He smiled. “How do you know about that?”

“I have access to your file, Sousa,” She reminded him, “I also know you were late to her class on the first day. Not a smart move, in my opinion.”

Daniel cringed at the memory of heads turning his way, watching him limp to the only open seat in the very front. May’s comment— “Thoughtful of you to join us, Agent Sousa,” —still turned his face a slightly embarrassing shade of red when he thought about it.

Noticing his uncomfortable silence, the physical therapist put on a sympathetic face. “I’m sure you’ll be fine. I was late to my first class, too. Professor Martin, advanced physiology. Granted, I was seventeen...”

Daniel playfully glared at her.

“...but I suppose that’s no excuse. Let’s get started.”

The rest of the day went by without Daisy or Daniel seeing much of each other besides a fleeting glimpse while changing classes. Not that they were looking for the other, or anything.

A few hours later, before dinner, Daisy was sitting on the counter in the girls’ dorm bathroom, watching Jemma curl her hair.

Jemma Simmons was one of the only people she immediately loved at SHIELD, and the first person she had trusted on Coulson’s team. Over the course of a couple months, they became closer than Daisy had ever been with anyone, spending almost every waking moment together. Over time, Daisy had grown to love the rest of the team, too, learning that they had also been hand picked by Coulson. Though, technically, Daisy hadn’t been chosen for the team. She was picked up as a consultant. But it didn’t matter, as the ragtag team had quickly been disbanded.

Knives shoved into your back can have that effect.

After the end of the team, Code-named Bus Kids, Daisy, Fitzsimmons, Tripp, and May and Coulson had come to the Academy to continue working with SHIELD. Daisy and Tripp were assigned as partners in their ops training, Fitzsimmons were partners in the lab, and May and Coulson still checked on them as if nothing had changed.

But people get busy, and it had been awhile since Jemma and Daisy had properly talked to each other.

“Does the bruise on my nose look like it’ll go away any time soon?”

Jemma glanced up through the mirror, shrugging. “It should. What did you do to it?”

Daisy fiddled with her hands, only answering when Jemma turned to face her fully.

“I kinda, uhm, got punched...”

The stern look Jemma gave Daisy quickly melted into laughter as the brunette added, “...by a punching bag.”

Reaching up to turn Daisy’s face towards the fluorescent bathroom lighting, Jemma gently ran a finger along the angry red splotch on the top of Daisy’s nose. She jerked her head a bit, wincing at the contact.

“You should be fine, I’ll grab some of the good anti-inflammatory meds from the medical storage.”

Daisy thanked her, hopping off the counter to grab an eyeliner pen. “So, how is Fitz? Is this a real date night or are you guys ‘just hanging out’?”

Jemma smiled at his name and rubbed her neck. Daisy smiled back at the subconscious reaction.

“You two are so meant for each other,” She teased.

Jemma tilted her face up towards Daisy, allowing her to start applying eyeliner.

“He hasn’t really defined it. We’re ‘going out’, but we aren’t dating.”

Daisy finished the subtle cat eye, shaking her head. When would he learn that Jemma would only believe they were together if he said, ‘Hey, Jems, I’m completely and totally in love with you and I want you and I to live happily ever after!’

Daisy watched Jemma inspect herself in the mirror, touching up her mascara.

“You look amazing. He’s a fool if he doesn’t see it,” Daisy assured.

Jemma smiled. Her Sheffield accent had gotten thicker over break, Daisy noticed, as Jemma responded, “He does, I know he does. We both just have trouble, you know? Voicing our thoughts and feelings.”

Daisy definitely knew…

“Well, he could do with a good reminder sometimes. If y’all are going to keep going on these not-dates, you might as well show him what he’s missing by staying just friends!”

Jemma laughed, smiling gratefully. She took one final look in the mirror, swishing her knee-length royal blue dress and fluffing her hair. “Okay, well, off I go. Have a good night, Daisy.”

Daisy gave her a thumbs up and went to watch out her window as Fitz handed Jemma a hand-picked bouquet of (slightly squished) wildflowers and took her arm to lead her to the parking lot.

Daisy sighed and turned away from the gold and pink sunset. She opened her personal laptop, immediately bombarded by three windows running programs. One was running an innocent algorithm to clean all the useless, unused files from her computer, one was a simulation that could (hypothetically, no harm no foul) hack the Pentagon, and another was trying to find video and audio feed from Los Angeles, four months ago.

Daisy’s gaze lingered on the last one, not expecting anything new. She sighed and picked up her laptop, deciding to go visit Mack in the garage. It was only seven on a Friday, he’d probably be there working on the run-down, close to falling apart Harley he had bought off an old friend for $200. Mack had been working on it for months. Daisy wasn’t even sure it had half its original parts.

A short trip across the grounds and a trek over a winding path cut through a field of thick tallgrass later, Daisy arrived at the garage.

The monstrous steel and concrete building was like a plane hangar and mechanics lab forged into one. Workstations around the edge were strewn with tools, motors, and half-finished pieces of tech. Shining black SHIELD vehicles and even two quinjets sat in the middle, outlined by rectangular blocks of tape and paint. Catwalks crossed the upper level so that mechanics could reach the tops of planes when necessary, though SHIELD planes hardly ever came to The Academy unless they were being used for a lesson.

Daisy followed the sounds of tinkering and the quietly moving shadows to Mack’s workstation. She carefully leaned against a nearby SHIELD van, not wanting to interrupt his work.

Now, to say that Mack wasn’t easily frightened was an understatement. Daisy had hardly ever seen the muscled giant of a man so much as jump. Ever since discovering this, Daisy had taken every opportunity to try to scare Mack. It was not going great.

Daisy pulled out her phone, silently thumbing through emails and checking Instagram. She was about to walk over and tap him on the shoulder when Mack turned around and screamed.

Clutching his chest, Mack exclaimed, “Tremors, what the hell?!”

“I just wanted to come check in,” Daisy giggled, happy that she had finally snuck up on Mack.

Mack stood with his hands on his hips, smiling wide, before cocking one thick eyebrow and gesturing at her face.

“What happened to your nose?”

“Punching bag won this morning,” She shrugged.

Mack shook his head, laughing in a deep rumble. “You wanna help me with this?” He asked, pointing to the small device on his desk.

She didn’t answer, just reached out to take a small screwdriver from Mack’s very large hand. He showed her how to twist it to create leverage without it slipping while he messed with some wires, and eventually he seemed satisfied.

“Have you eaten dinner?” Mack asked casually.

Daisy nodded, her grumbling stomach betraying her.

Mack eyed her up and down. “Sure. Well, I’m hungry, so let's get something to eat and then we can take the bikes out.”

Daisy liked the feeling of being on a bike, the wind in her hair and steady vibrations from the engine soothing her ever-present headache. Ever since this revelation, if Mack went out on his motorcycle, he invited Daisy to ride with him.

At first, Daisy had been skeptical. What was so great about a two-wheel speeding death trap? One of her best friends had driven a gleaming 1969 Dodge Charger, and she had enjoyed riding with the windows down, but it still wasn’t the absolute best experience of her life, like most motorcyclists claimed a ride could be. However, once Daisy had finally taken Mack up on his offer, she was never hesitant to accept another invitation.

In the canteen, Mack piled a plate high with salad ingredients and baked spaghetti, scooping some off into a bowl for Daisy once he got back to the table. She took a fork and picked at it, chewing the crisp lettuce slowly.

Once they were both finished, Mack put his plate and utensils on the circling dish belt. He let Daisy lead the way back to the garage. She immediately grabbed two helmets and Mack’s gloves.

“That leather jacket gonna be enough to keep you warm? I have a couple old flannels in my bag if you want one.” Mack offered.

Daisy picked at a loose thread on the worn black jacket, nodding and throwing a ‘Thanks’ over her shoulder. She quickly rifled through his duffel bag, pulling out a faded black and blue flannel and shrugging it on under her jacket.

Mack mounted his black and silver bike, Daisy choosing a smaller SHIELD one. She kicked the kickstand back with her foot, finding her balance. She followed Mack as he revved the engine and took off out of the garage. Daisy heard him speak into the helmet’s mic.

“I upgraded the bikes, bigger tires and a better visor. It’s more efficient. Plus, when I’m out on the highway, cars don’t push me around.”

Daisy gave him a thumbs up, focusing on the feeling of air flowing around her. She sped up as she reached the road. She felt as if she was flying high into the air, fighting the laws of physics. On the back roads surrounding the Academy, as familiar as the back of her hand, Daisy relaxed and let herself fall into autopilot.

She heard Mack in her ear, still talking about the bike. She had heard it all before, but there was something centering about listening to Mack retell the evolution of his bike for the hundredth time, like a kid who begged to hear the same bedtime story every night.

It was freeing, speeding down a deserted road on the bike, stars above and pavement below. Pine trees reached for the sky on each side of her. Shrubbery and grass waved to Mack and Daisy as they raced forward.

A slight burn pricked her eyes that she knew wasn’t from the wind. Daisy needed this after a stressful first couple weeks back in class. To be honest, it was what she needed all the time. Daisy was exhausted. Her powers may not be visible, but they were always on, always bouncing around her body. Times like these, though, Daisy felt free. Releasing the constant grip she had on her self-control, she let the vibrations of the engine flow through her. Slowly, surely, Daisy let her guard down. A whispering warble crept into her ears over the wind. She could feel the way the pavement below and the humid late-August air around her absorbed the miniscule quakes, bouncing lightly off the tall trees like a quiet laugh reflecting off the walls of an echo-chamber.

About an hour later, Daisy and Mack were rolling back into the garage. Daisy couldn’t hide the slight redness in her eyes, but the smile on her face told Mack he didn’t need to worry. The pair silently did maintenance on the motorcycles, re-fueling them for later use and checking for any loose parts on Daisy’s.

Daisy headed back to campus, refusing Mack’s offer to walk her back to the dorms. She would be fine on her own. Besides, Jems might be back by now, she could ask about Fitzsimmons’ date. Or she could wait until breakfast tomorrow and tease them both.

Daisy stopped in her tracks. Out of the corner of her eye, a shadow slipped behind a building. Daisy felt her back tense, her hands curling into fists.

Any remainder of twilight light had faded while Mack and Daisy maintenanced the bikes. Daisy couldn’t imagine that any of the trainees that went to parties at the nearby universities were back yet, but no student in their right mind would want to simply walk around the dark campus of the Academy.

She kept walking, more alert. No sounds apart from her steady breathing and the rustle of grass beneath her feet reached her ears. She walked slowly toward where the shadow had disappeared. It looked as if it was headed to the biochem building. Daisy raised her hands, quietly running towards the white building, slightly crouched. She circled it once, twice, before deciding she had been imagining things, the shadow was only a trick of the light. It seemed so real though, so solid…

Daisy shook her head and crossed the courtyard, heading towards the dorms. It was late, and she had important things to do tomorrow. She was probably just tired from her ride with Mack.

Behind her, unnoticed by Daisy, the shadow quickly crossed the field behind the biochem building, slinking into the tallgrass.

The next day, Daisy woke to the sound of her alarm blaring 90’s RnB at six thirty AM, sharp. She quickly shut it off and stared at the ceiling for a moment before groaning and dragging herself out of bed. She hadn’t gotten much sleep last night after her encounter with the shadow.

The sun was slowly ascending in the sky, golden light filtering into her windows. It was early, but she didn’t have the energy to go workout. Instead, Daisy stretched on her bed and sent a quick text to Jemma asking to meet up later to gossip about her date.

She grabbed shorts and a cropped sweatshirt, quickly dressing and making her way to the bathroom. She clipped her hair back, brushed her teeth, washed her face and headed back to her room. Trying her best to cover the bruise that had turned from red-violet to a blue-ish tinted black, she did minimal makeup. It’s not like it could get any worse, she thought bitterly. The concealer wasn’t much use.

Deciding to ignore the bruise, Daisy stood up, grabbed her backpack with her personal laptop and journal and headed to the canteen.

There weren’t many students around campus this early in the morning. Most were either asleep or nursing a hangover in their dorms. A few dedicated trainees were scattered amongst the different buildings, either in the gym or studying on their favourite bench. Daisy made a beeline for the canteen, hoping that no one had drank all the fresh coffee yet.

She slipped through the doors, sending small smiles to the students she made eye-contact with, faltering when her roving gaze reached a set of twinkling eyes the color of coffee. Maybe, she thought, I should go over and talk to him. What’s the worst that can happen?

She quickly poured herself a cup of coffee and grabbed a cinnamon raisin bagel from the pastry cart. Checking to be sure he wasn’t sitting with anyone (she wouldn’t want to intrude), Daisy walked around to the back of the large room, sitting in a spot diagonal from him.

After a few minutes of silence where Daisy ate her bagel and pretended not to feel his eyes on her, she turned and faced him.

“Good morning,” she said.

He dipped his head and raised his paper cup of coffee at the same time in response.

Does he not want to talk to me? Daisy questioned herself. She tried again. “So, is the coffee good?” He glanced at her cup that she had been sipping. Daisy recovered, “You know, in your opinion. I love the coffee here, the slightly burned aftertaste goes well with cream and sugar.΅

To her relief, he smiled. “Yeah, it’s good. I don’t usually use cream or sugar.”

Daisy raised her eyebrows, impressed. “Ah, more of a bare necessities, no-nonsense guy?”

His nose scrunched a little in thought, as if he was assessing his entire personality to see if it aligned with Daisy’s coffee psychology. He nodded finally, elaborating, “I was in the army. Most of us drank it black while deployed. I never got out of the habit. But, to answer your question, I like to think of myself as low maintenance.”

He sent her a small smile that had her insides melting just a bit. Daisy hid behind the rim of her coffee cup, trying to think of a response. Luckily, New Guy saved her.

“How do you drink your coffee?”

Daisy lowered her own paper cup, clearing her throat. “One half and half, just a bit of sugar. If I’m super tired I’ll add more.”

“So you probably adapt easily and have a deep hunger for answers to all your questions?”

Daisy’s eyes quickly flicked down to her coffee, wondering if her coffee order really exposed that much about her. Daniel laughed, his shoulders shaking with mirth. “I’m kidding. I noticed how you’re always in the computer lab before class, and Yo-Yo told me that you use that time to research.”

Daisy felt a blush creep up her neck. Yo-Yo knew New Guy? And gave him information about her schedule?

Daniel quickly explained, “We see each other in the halls a lot. And we have a class together. She noticed me in the lab and thought I knew you.”

Daisy relaxed. Yo-Yo had become increasingly more friendly to strangers the longer she spent at the Academy.

“I remember the first time I met her. She was so angry that SHIELD had stopped her from exposing the police in her city as corrupt. Our team was sent in to help her finish what she had started, destroy weapons and take down the corrupt members of the department. It was fun,” She chuckled.

Daniel watched her through his thin clear-frame glasses. She winced a little as her nose scrunched with laughter, recalling another story about a mission gone awry that Yo-Yo saved.

“How did you get that bruise?”

“What?”

He pointed to the spot on his face that mirrored the position of the bruise on hers. “The bruise. It looks like it hurts.”

Daisy shrugged, “Not as badly as getting shot. But you know, sometimes you punch the bag, sometimes the bag punches you.”

Despite the playful nature of the statement, Daniel couldn’t help but hear alarm bells in the back of his mind. She had been shot?!

Daisy noticed the change in Daniel’s demeanor and switched tactics, “It’s just a bruise. I wasn’t paying attention and the punching bag flew back and hit me in the face.”

Daniel laughed, becoming more and more intrigued with the enigma sitting across from him. Well, at least this enigma was beautiful, even if she had lost a fight to a punching bag.

A look of pure confusion overtook Daisy’s features. “Excuse me?”

Daniel’s face flushed bright red. He said that out loud. Daisy was still smiling though, Daniel let out a nervous chuckle. The two lapsed into an awkward silence. Daisy was finishing her bagel when he spoke up again.

“It was good talking to you,” he said softly.

Daisy’s eyes wandered his face with an unreadable expression. “Yeah, it was.”

He resisted the urge to offer to walk Daisy to wherever she was going as she headed out of the doors of the canteen, coffee with one half and half and pinch of sugar in hand.

————————————————————————————

hi hellooo! whatd you think? comments and notes are appreciated! (will go back and edit this later, for now i sleep)

tag list: @jaanulore

[gaming-universe]

Who We Are || Russell Adler

Call of Duty Black Ops: Cold War

-PART FOUR-

Warnings: SPOILERS FOR CALL OF DUTY BLACK OPS: COLD WAR! IF YOU HAVEN’T PLAYED/FINISHED THE CAMPAIGN THEN PLEASE DONT READ! Gore, violence, course language, mature content.

Summary: Betrayed and alone after surviving the events that took place on the Solovetsky Islands, Y/n ‘Bell’ L/n faces new and more dangerous threats when she learns that Perseus has other plans for his failed nuclear detonation of Europe. It was only a matter of time before Y/n came face to face with her old team. There is unfinished business between Y/n and Adler, as this operation proves to be more deadly than originally thought.

Author’s Note: So, after finishing the campaign, I needed to do Bell/Player and Adler justice. I loved this game so much, and chosing to play as the female character, I felt like there was a genuine connection between Bell and Adler throughout the game. There is a tag list open for anyone that wishes to stay up to date with the series. Simply comment below. Gif by @travelllar (Girl I’m using all your gifs they are absolutely amazing)

|PART ONE| |PART TWO| |PART THREE|

Another day, another sleepless night.

It was 5am, the sky a light deep blue, and the last of the Soviet soldiers were leaving town. They had searched almost every square inch of this small fishing village, searching for anyone that might be harboring the ones who broke into their base. You thanked whatever god there was that they seemed to forget about Viktor’s house, which was practically veiled by the night sky on a hill below the lighthouse.

You had been awake since one that morning, watching the Soviet soldiers busy about the town like flies on a wound. As dawn broke, you sighed heavily, closing your tired eyes and pinching the bridge of your nose. Your head throbbed painfully from the lack of sleep, but between your nightmares, reoccuring memories and the ruckas of the soldiers, you doubted you would have slept much at all anyway.

The door to the house opened softly, followed by light footsteps as they moved behind you to stand on your left. You didn’t have to turn to see who it was, the familiar stench of cigar smoke almost made you choke. You could see Adler in your peripherals just fine, you rolled your eyes in mild annoyance. “Do you always have to wear those aviators?” You found yourself asking, as the man in question began to chuckle. You heard him sigh “No, I don’t always have to wear them”.

“Do you have to wear them at 5am in the morning?”

“I suppose not-”

“Good, because you look stupid”.

Adler laughed again, releasing a stream of smoke from his lips as he shook his head in amusement. But doing as you had somewhat suggested, Adler removed his aviators, and hooked them over one of the open buttons of his shirt. The two of you stood in silence, watching as the sky began to turn an early morning grey. Adler huffed more smoke “Did you sleep last night?” He questioned lowly, now leaning his back against the white wooden railing and turning his head towards you.

Looking at him from the corner of your eye, you merely shrugged. “I don’t sleep much, not anymore...” You replied smoothly, now wishing that you had never said anything to begin with. You focused your gaze forward again as Adler’s expression fell, he brought the cigar to his lips. You watched as the waves danced in the early morning sunlight, remembering what is was like to be at their mercy. Adler moved closer to your form, flinching slightly as he watched your hands clench into tight fists. You flexed your fingers with a small wince, a sense of pride washing over you as you examined your bruised knuckles.

“How is your jaw?”

“Fucking sore, but thanks for asking”.

You laughed. A soft, genuine laugh as you finally turned to meet Adler’s gaze. His blue hues stared down into your (eye/colour) eyes with a mixture of emotions. His lips parted slightly as he went to speak, clearing his throat awkwardly. “I know you hate me, for everything I have done to you. Nothing I do will ever make up for the amount of shit I have put you through, but you have no idea how hard it was for me to do what I had to do...” He began, his grip on his cigar tightening. “I didn’t want to kill you, I really didn’t. But Park convinced me that killing you was better than the other option-”.

“And what would the other option have been?” You interrupted, folding your arms over your chest. Adler’s jaw clenched, “Letting you go through life not knowing who you were”. You scoffed loudly, stepping away from the taller man before you as you shook your head in disbelief. “She really convinced you that killing me was better than that!? Sure, I might not have ever figured out who I was before, but what was it you said to me after Cuba? ‘The CIA re-invented me’. I could have started a new life, Adler, and you fucking took that away from me” You growled, your eyes narrowing dangerously as you practically seethed with anger.

You paused for a moment to breathe, brushing stray strands of hair from your face as the wind blew in. There was so much more you wanted to say to him, so much you wanted to curse him for.

“Last night you asked me if I regretted it. If I regretted shooting you that day...” Adler spoke softly, almost painfully as his eyes suddenly became a darker shade of blue. “I regretted it, every single goddamned day afterward. And do you want to know why? Because a part of me hoped that you were alive. After you fell I...I hoped to god that you would resurface, that you would have survived that fall. But as the days went by, I realised you weren’t coming back, and that affected me, Y/n, it really did. When Woods and Mason found heard about what I did, they left, and you have no idea how pissed off Hudson was when he found out-”

“I would say just as pissed off as when he discovered that I was the Perseus Agent willing to defect and help the CIA take him down”.

Adler froze, his eyes widening significantly. For the first time in what you assumed was a long time, Adler was speechless. He stared at you completely dumbfounded, his mouth opening and closing as he searched for something to say. “I...w-what are you-”

“A few days before the whole incident at the airstrip, I sent an enrypted message to the CIA, telling them that I was willing to cooperate and answer any questions they might have had in regards to Perseus in exchange for asylum. I guess my message didn’t reach you in time-”

“But, if you were...” Adler trailed off, once again trying to make sense of things “Why didn’t you tell us? When we found you-”

“Things got a lot more complicated when Arash shot me, I think defecting was the last thing on my mind as I lay bleeding out in that car” You finished explaining, shivering slightly at the cool breeze. Adler hadn’t said a word since you finished your long explaination. He paced back and forth, running a hand along the back of his neck as he sighed heavily. You felt yourself tremble as his gaze focused on your form, he looked at you differently.

He looked at you the same way Mason had before Cuba, with pity, sadness, and empathy. “Y/n I...I’m so sorry, if I-” “Don’t apologise...” You interrupted, shrugging your shoulders awkwardly “I’m not mad about that. Actually, I am, but that isn’t the main issue”. Adler nodded, trying to regain his composure with a long draw of his cigar. You buried your hands beneath your arms, not wanting the man before you to notice their trembling. Clearing your throat, you averted your gaze back out to sea “Did you want to talk about last night, or did you want to wait for Woods and Mason?” You asked, trying to hide the slight shakiness of your voice.

You heard Adler sigh, “Y/n, I have to call Hudson. He needs to hear everything from us, and he will no doubt want to hear everything from you”.

Your blood turned to ice, a cold shiver running down your spine at his words. Call Hudson? You felt your stomach churn uneasily, you swallowed thickly and nervously. There was no way of telling how Hudson would react, how he would-

“Y/n...” Adler spoke softly, now standing before you with his eyes searching your distant expression for anything. Something that would give him an insight into what was going on in that head of yours. You turned to face him, looking up at him sadly. “You do what you need to do. But I just-”

“I know, I’ll take care of it. You can trust me-”

“Can I? Can I trust you?”

When Adler’s expression fell, you felt a strange sense of guilt consume you. You didn’t mean to be so hesitant toward him, you didn’t mean to be careful with who you trusted. But after everything that had been done to you...after everything that had happened...

You froze as Adler moved to step around you, your body becoming rigid as something warm was draped over your shoulders. It was then that you realised you had been shaking violently, and that Adler had given you his beloved brown leather jacket. You quickly spun around to face him, managing to catch the fleeting smile he gave you. Then you knew.

Adler understood. He understood where you were coming from. That you needed time to trust him again. “Like you said last night...” He began softly, giving you a barely there smile “no more lies, no more bullshit. Take things in your own time, but I want that jacket back, got it?”. With that being said, Adler turned slowly and made his way back inside, leaving you alone on the wooden terrace. When you were sure he was gone, you wrapped Adler’s jacket around your form tightly and collapsed to your knees, crying softly as strange, compassionate feelings overtook your worry, anxiety and guilt.

When you had calmed down, you leaned back against the wooden railing, letting your head rest against the wooden slats as you breathed deeply. You tried to ignore the scent of Adler’s jacket filling your nose, a mixture of old leather combined with cigar smoke and some kind of cologne.

As the sun began to peak through the grey clouds blanketing the islands, you decided that it was best for you to head inside. You still had the matters of last night to discuss, as well as the oh so joyous anticipation of waiting for Hudson to arrive.

After changing into more comfortable and warmer clothes, you begrudgingly gave Adler back his jacket, giving him a warm smile in thanks before disappearing into the living room. 

Woods and Mason were playing poker with Viktor, and losing horribly. “How the fuck did you manage to get another royal flush?” Woods complained, this his cards down atop the coffee table with an annoyed groan “I swear you’ve rigged the damn thing”. Viktor chuckled, gathering his winnings with a sly wink in your direction as you passed. “When you have played this game for as long as I have, you learn all the tricks of the trade” He responded, as Woods threw his hands out in exasperation.

You watched on from the far wall, grinning as Mason caught your gaze. He waved you over “Hey Y/n, did you want to join us?” He asked, to which you shook you head with an amused scoff. “No thanks, I would like to keep my money-” “Wuss...” Woods teased “I’ll play for you” “No, I’m good thank you, but I appreciate the offer”.

Woods groaned again as Mason laughed, while Viktor practically bled them both dry. Adler emerged from the kitchen, moving to stand by your side. “Adler, lend me some money, I need beat this old man at least once!” Woods exclaimed, gesturing towards Viktor with an extended hand. Adler shook his head “No, I’m not doing that” He replied, glaring at Woods’ obscene gesture thrown in his direction. You chuckled quietly, looking up at the man beside you with a small shrug. “How did you go?” You asked, not liking the way his gaze fell. He huffed “Hudson has a few things to take care of in Washington before he gets here, but he plans on arriving sometime tonight”.

“Well, I guess we can’t really do anything until we inform him of what is going on then?”.

“We can prepare what we are going to say? Combine our knowledge”.

You nodded hesitantly “I really don’t know much. But whatever those soldiers were doing up there is in relation to something called Operation Hyrda”. The entire living room fell silent, as all eyes now focused on you. “Operation Hydra? What the hell is that?” Mason asked, his eyes narrowing in confusion. You sighed “From what I’ve remembered, Operation Hydra is a failsafe for Operation Greenlight. Reading that name back in that bunker triggered something. All I know so far, is that Perseus and I are the only ones who know of the failsafe”.

“And because we brainwashed you, you can’t remember what this Operation Hyrda entails” Adler interrupted, his eyes remaining trained on your smaller form. You nodded as Adler cursed, cringing at his dangerous tone “I’m trying to remember, if that helps-”

“I know you are, we’ll figure it out” Adler spoke distantly, before once again disappearing back into the kitchen. You sighed heavily, pinching the bridge of your nose with a groan. If only you could remember something, even if it was small. Every little detail counted right? A gentle hand was placed on your shoulder, causing you to flinch as your eyes lifted to meet the warm expression of Mason. “Hey, don’t beat yourself up about this...” He soothed “it’s not your fault you can’t remember”.

“I know, but knowing that I’m missing something important is just...” You paused, breathing deeply in through your nose and out through your mouth “I feel so fucking useless”.

“You might feel like that now, but it won’t always be like this...” Woods spoke solemnly from his position on the couch. “Sure, it might take you a while to remember things, but you will get there. Just don’t be so hard on yourself, alright?”. You nodded slowly, allowing his words to sink in. Though Woods did have a point, you couldn’t help but feel like a burden to the team.

As your lips parted to respond, there was a sharp knock at the door. Your head tilted to the side in confusion, your gaze meeting Woods and Masons’ who wore similar expressions. Adler emerged from the kitchen, carefully moving past you and Mason towards the front of the door. You waited anxiously as two voices echoed down into the living room. As footsteps approached, your body became rigid as Adler moved past you to stand on the other side of the room, followed by a woman you knew all too well.

Her midnight hair was slightly longer, but her brown eyes widened upon landing on your form before her expression hardened. All you could do was glare at Park, as she stood in the doorway to the living room.

Tag List: @pookolokon @travelllar @basicwhiteasian @shellshockedbell @inteligentecat @staryozora @lovinggooppalacebanana @ktdragonborn @quietblogs-2-rd @cerezi @alluringartangels​

[lockefanfic]

Business Trip: Part 38 - Senses

As you devour the smooth, soft skin of her neck Momo’s hands reach for your belt, working the latch with quick, experienced fingers, having done it a thousand times before. With the belt undone she hooks her thumbs into your waistband and pulls your pants down, taking your boxers along with them.

Almost as soon as your cock springs free her hand is on it, and you let a loud sigh escape your lips at the feel of her hands on your shaft again - a handjob wasn’t exactly hard to come by these days for you, but to have Momo’s hands on you again drove the pleasure to another level. The history, the past emotions - it heightened every little ounce of pleasure, every little touch and taste.

Your cock hardens quickly in her grasp, every pump of her soft, long fingers creating delicious little spikes of pleasure that shoot up your spine and directly into your brain. Momo gasps as you suck on the warm spots of her neck and jawline, her pace with your shaft quickening with each moan of pleasure that leaves her lips.

She eventually has enough, and she draws her neck away from your hungry lips to make eye contact with you. You see the same look in her eyes you’d seen so many times before - hazel pools filled with lust and need and want. She licks her lips, drops to her knees, and you feel the breath leaving your lungs involuntarily as she takes you into her mouth.

“I should’ve known you’d be here early.”

“There’s a lot to do,” Hirai Momo says, raising her head from the laptop only briefly to nod a greeting of good morning to you as you enter Red Velvet’s apartment, “I double and triple checked all the tech in here along with all the cameras we placed at the entrances and exits. I had to do it before the sun came up - you know Irene’s thugs could be casing this place as we speak.”

“You’ve thought of everything,” you answer as you step inside the bedroom where Momo had set up her recording equipment on the wooden desk. You take a seat on the bed, where Seulgi had had her way with you the day before.

It was the day of Seulgi’s scheduled meeting with Irene, and a few hours before noon, which was when Seulgi said Irene should show up. You’d arrived early to ensure everything was in place; the others weren’t due to arrive for another hour or so.

“I have to think of everything. This is a big op,” Momo states.

“I know. You’re really going all out.”

Momo stops whatever she was doing on the laptop. Her back is turned to you, but you still notice her head has dipped slightly, as though she weren’t looking forward to the conversation you were about to have. Her hair, done up in a high ponytail, leaves the creamy skin and graceful curve of her neck bare. Her shoulders slouch slightly.

“This needs to go well. I need to take Irene down. I need to prove that I can do this on my own. Without you.”

Her words sting you a little bit, and Momo seems to immediately regret her words, at least partially.

“I’m sorry,” she says quickly, “I don’t mean to say that you haven’t done your part in bringing Irene down. I guess... I just… when we worked together, when I was on your team, I always just followed your lead. You did all the work, made all the decisions. I guess that now that I’m on my own I need to prove I can do it myself.”

She’d started to say ‘I guess’ again.

“Momo, you don’t need to prove anything to anyone.”

“I need to prove it to myself,” she answers quickly. 

A few quiet moments pass in silence. Since her reappearance you’d wondered why Momo had been so cold and driven; now that you knew it was because of her desire to prove herself, it explained a lot of the way she acted and spoke to you.

“I’m sorry, Momo. I didn’t know that that was what you wanted.”

“It’s fine,” she answers, shaking her head softly, “I could have been a little more straightforward with you instead of being a bitch to you for no reason.”

“Either way, when we get Irene today this’ll be your win.”

“No, it’ll be ours,” she corrects, “it was your team that got all that incriminating intel right from under their noses. Without it we wouldn’t have anything to prove she did what she did.”

“But it was your team that will actually bag her. The intel is useless if she keeps getting away.”

Her back is turned, but you could sense a small smile appearing on the girl’s cheeks.

“I guess we can call it a team effort,” she admits, and you are happy to find a little levity in her tone. “A team win.”

“You do remember what we used to do after each of our wins back in the day...”

“Take a cab back to the hotel room and fuck like rabbits?” Momo quickly answers, with a snort and a giggle. She turns her head halfway toward you, and you are glad to see a nostalgic smile on her lips.

“Yeah. Sometimes we wouldn’t even wait for the hotel. Remember the supply closet in the convention centre when we were in Frankfurt?”

“Of course I do. Or the cab in Lima? The driver must’ve been wondering why the hell I had your jacket over your lap in the summer heat.”

“I’m sure that wasn’t the first handjob ever given in that backseat,” you say with a smile, “either way it was real awkward making it from the cab to the hotel room with a raging boner.”

Momo giggles, and the sound is soft, musical; it lifts your spirits to hear something so wonderful, because you wondered if you’d ever hear it again. Memories of days gone past run through your heads, and bittersweet smiles paint themselves on your lips. Things were so much simpler then. No danger or drama, hurt or betrayal - only the next business deal to make, the next plane to catch, and evenings of passion and lust with someone you were falling in love with.

“I want things to be that way again,” you say, softly, the words leaving your lips before you even knew you were saying them. 

“Me too,” Momo agrees, “but we can’t go back.”

“Why not?”

Momo turns her head back away from you, staring blankly at her laptop screen again.

“It was different back then. It was just me and you, without a care in the world. Before all these other girls entered your life. I don’t mind who you fuck - you know that - but these girls… They all want to be with you.”

“Momo, I-”

“Would they ever leave your life?” Momo asks, pointedly. “Sana is one of the most passionate people I know - and she’s crazy for you. She’d do anything for you, even if it meant risking her career or her friendships. That cop - Nayeon, was it? I know you have history together. Maybe you would still be together, if it weren’t for this job. How do you know she’s not the one? She came halfway around the world for the chance to start over with you. And Jeongyeon-”

Momo’s voice cuts out, a sudden rush of emotion keeping her from finishing her sentence. She raises a hand to her mouth, almost as if physically covering her mouth could keep her from saying something she would regret.

“...she loves you. I guess I always saw it in the way she looked at you, but I just ignored it. I thought it was just a schoolgirl crush. And she pissed me right the fuck off with how she told you about her feelings while she knew we were together… but she was right there with you in that alleyway, before we rescued you. That wasn’t a girl standing by her boss. That was a girl standing by someone she loves.”

Momo takes a few deep breaths to compose herself, and although only a few seconds pass, the time in silence felt like hours.

“And I… I love you too. I guess I’ve always loved you. I guess a part of me always will, no matter what happens today or who you choose to be with. But if we’re going to be together I want to know you’re mine, truly mine, and mine alone. I don’t care about where you stick your dick. I just care about who’s in your heart. That’s what I want. What I’ve always wanted.”

More quiet breaths, more thoughts and memories and emotions running rampant through the heads and hearts of two confused young people - more silence covering it all like an unwanted, uncomfortable threadbare blanket that provided little warmth.

“You’re such a lucky little douchebag,” Momo says with a chuckle and smile that had little humor. “All these stupid young girls, tripping over themselves to let you know how much they want you.”

The silence returns - but so does your answer.

“What about what I want?”

Momo doesn’t answer, perhaps unprepared for your question.

“All of you, you’ve all told me what you want, and why you’re each better than the others. Why I should pick you. But never once has anyone asked me what I want - what I was looking for. And not one of you has considered that maybe, just maybe, I have other things on my mind besides choosing a girlfriend.”

The words spilled from your lips before you could even know you were speaking them, because you knew they came not from your brain but from somewhere deeper inside you. Momo had brought up a good point; each of the girls had made their case clear to you over the past few days and weeks. Each had made clear their desire for you, how much they wanted to be with you. And you’d accepted their declarations and considered each in turn - but not until now had you considered what you wanted.

You decide that what you want at the moment is a little time alone. You stand from the bed and with steps that felt heavier than they should, you begin to make your way to the bedroom door. When you reach the door and begin to open it, Momo rises from her chair and places a hand on your wrist.

You move to step around her, but she steps in front of you as well, her head lowered, as though she were afraid of what she might see if she looked up at you. Behind her, she closes the door, the click of the handle sounding uncomfortably loud in the quiet room.

“I’m sorry,” she finally says, her voice low and quiet. “What we want doesn’t matter if you don’t want the same thing.”

“It’s fine, Momo,” you say, trying your best to control your frustration and the sudden rise of anger in your head, “it’s fine. It can wait until after we bag Irene and finally move on from this mess.”

You move to step around Momo, but once again she blocks you from leaving by stepping in front of you - but this time she moves her face closer to yours, your noses grazing softly.

It only takes a few seconds and a light graze of your faces - but almost immediately the passion that once existed between you reignites. She was once such a central figure in your life, someone you saw almost every day and spent almost every night with; but to have been away from her for so long, combined with the dangerous and intense circumstances you’d both found yourselves in when you finally reconnected - it had all built up, waiting to be released.

Her lips press lightly against yours, and the kiss starts off tamely, as though both of you are testing the waters - but it soon ignites into an ember and then a flame, your lips crashing against each other as you both give in to your desires.

Momo wraps her arms around your neck and you wrap yours around her slim, perfect torso, both of you relishing the feel of each others’ bodies once again. Her tongue swipes across your lips and you let her into your mouth, your tongues duelling the same way they had on so many days and nights. She tastes of peach lip gloss and sweet candy, a treat you’d gone too long without, one that reminded you of simpler, carefree days gone by.

You give her a deep kiss before releasing her lips, diving into her neck and the warm spots there that you knew she loved. She lets out a wordless gasp as your need to press yourself against her in turn presses her back against the closed door. The soft smell of her perfume fills your nostrils like an intoxicating drug, one you long thought you’d sworn off, but one you now greedily fill your hungry lungs with.

As you devour the smooth, soft skin of her neck Momo’s hands reach for your belt, working the latch with quick, experienced fingers, having done it a thousand times before. With the belt undone she hooks her thumbs into your waistband and pulls your pants down, taking your boxers along with them.

Almost as soon as your cock springs free her hand is on it, and you let a loud sigh escape your lips at the feel of her hands on your shaft again - a handjob wasn’t exactly hard to come by these days for you, but to have Momo’s hands on you again drove the pleasure to another level. The history, the past emotions - it heightened every little ounce of pleasure, every little touch and taste.

Your cock hardens quickly in her grasp, every pump of her soft, long fingers creating delicious little spikes of pleasure that shoot up your spine and directly into your brain. Momo gasps as you suck on the warm spots of her neck and jawline, her pace with your shaft quickening with each moan of pleasure that leaves her lips.

She eventually has enough, and she draws her neck away from your hungry lips to make eye contact with you. You see the same look in her eyes you’d seen so many times before - hazel pools filled with lust and need and want. She licks her lips, drops to her knees, and you feel the breath leaving your lungs involuntarily as she takes you into her mouth.

The other girls were no slouches when it came to oral sex, each of them pleasuring you in their own way. But none of them knew you like Momo did; and combined with the pent up tension and emotion that had pervaded your every interaction with her since she left your team, it made every entrance and exit of your cock into her wet, warm mouth that much more pleasurable. 

Her tongue swirls in circular patterns, focusing mostly on your head, swirling around the tip and beneath it, her right hand pumping at your base in time with each thrust into her mouth, the same way she had a hundred times before. And the reaction she creates in your body is the same; a quickly building pleasure that overtakes your senses from your head to your toes, the kind that removes the existence of anything else in the world aside from the beautiful young woman on her knees before you, and the wet, hot cavern of her mouth and tongue.

You brace yourself against the closed door with one hand, your other reaching down to cradle the side of her head as it bobs back and forth on your shaft. You let a sigh escape your lips - a needy, lusty sound - as you watch Momo work. When she looks up at you her eyes are just as wanton as yours, but there is more than just lust there; there is a look of affection, a look of a need fulfilled.

You want more - you needed more.

You draw your saliva-coated cock from the Japanese girl’s lips, and she moans in disappointment at your decision to stop her in the midst of her work. But when you reach down and grasp her by the shoulders and pull her up to her feet, her objections quickly flee from her mind.

You turn her around so she is facing the door, her hands reaching out to brace herself against it, leaving your hands free to explore her tight, perfect frame. She is wearing high-waisted black leggings that cling like a second skin to her small waist, full hips, and the round cheeks of her ass; and as great as the sight of the black spandex was, it looked even better once it was pulled down to her knees. Momo’s perfect, vanilla skin almost glows in the early morning light, creamy and soft, begging to be touched and held and squeezed.

You press yourself against the young woman’s now naked midsection, your slick cock pressing between the round cheeks of her ass and the small of her back. Momo gasps at the touch of your cock on her body, the gasp turning into a long, soft moan as you thrust softly between her cheeks, a prelude, a tease of what was to come.

She squirms against you, grinds her hips and ass against your crotch, her body moving like liquid as she struggles to find release for the need building within her. But you deny her for now - you had to feel more of her, had to indulge in more of the perfect body you’d gone for so long without.

You continue to thrust between her ass cheeks, but as you do so you bring your hands up her naked sides, enjoying the feel of her soft, creamy skin beneath your fingers and palms. When you reach the edge of the short blue crop top she is wearing you dive beneath it, finding that she is wearing a black sports bra beneath it. You dig your fingertips beneath it’s hem and pull upward, feeling her large, round breasts bounce free as you pull it above her full mounds.

Almost immediately your hands are on her breasts, indulging in the feel of her perfect tits in your hands, enjoying their weight and the soft creaminess of them. Your thumbs and index fingers find her nipples, delighting in the fact that they were already stiff with pleasure. You would’ve given anything to have them in your mouth, but you settle for teasing and pinching them with your fingers, twisting the stiff little buds until Momo’s gasps and whimpers turn into full on moans, filling the small bedroom with vocalizations of the physical pleasure coursing through her young body.

Momo’s butt grinds even stronger against your crotch until she is thrusting your cock between her ass cheeks all on her own. With a satisfied smile you release her right breast from your grasp, reaching down past sculpted abs and a flat stomach to the heat between her thighs, finding her almost dripping with need. Her own right hand joins yours at her crotch, her middle finger pressing your own against her drenched lips, pressing your finger down until it slips between the slippery lips of her pussy.

Momo moans - not a simple moan of sexual pleasure; a moan of need, of want, of pure lust. “Fuck me, please,” she gasps.

You decide she’d had enough teasing. Bringing your hands to her slim waist, you position yourself to take her. Momo’s hand at her crotch brings your tip to her wet, slick entrance, the head of your cock pressing between her needy lips.

You thrust into her with one long, smooth stroke - and you both feel the air rushing from your lungs in a loud, unhindered gasp of pleasure.

You both take a few seconds there as you fill her to the hilt; both of you getting that first hit of a drug after a long absence, that sinful depravity of an unexpected relapse.

But you both need more than just that first hit; more than just a promise of pleasure. And so you withdraw your shaft from her body, her pussy hugging it tightly as though unwilling to let it go. It glistens with her juices. She trembles with need. 

You thrust back into Momo, then a third time, then a forth - until you settle quickly into a rhythm, fucking the gasping, mewling Japanese girl against the door of the bedroom with quick, strong thrusts. Her body is rocked with each entry into her pussy, the round cheeks of her ass bouncing deliciously with each impact, her spine and back easing into a delightful curve as she settles into your rhythm.

Her gasps and whimpers and moans fill the room, unheeding of the presence of neighbors or teammates or anyone else that could possibly interrupt the pleasure you were building inside her body. You cannot help but join her, her tight, hot body and the wetness of her pussy turning the pleasure in your loins into wordless grunts and gasps.

“Oh, fuck, fuck me please,” she gasps, her words light and breathless, as though she were having more than just lust fulfilled - there is a happiness in her tone, a joy, almost, that something she’d lost had finally come back into her life.

“Fuck, Momo,” you say in return, not capable of coming up with the words to say any more. When you’d fucked in the past your words were dirty, vulgar; now they were filled with some other emotion. Was it joy? Happiness? Nostalgia, at the way things used to be? You didn’t have the time or mental capacity to interpret it, not when Momo’s perfect body was taking you in and out, the tight wet heat between her legs driving you insane with each thrust into her pussy.

You settle fully into your rhythm, fucking her for a few beautiful minutes, neither increasing nor decreasing your pace; both of you enjoying the moment, the pleasure rising within your bodies. You drink in every inch of Momo’s body as you pump in and out of her - the graceful curve of her back, the round softness of her bouncing ass, the glistening wetness of her pussy lips as they take you in and out, lathering your cock with her slick juices each time. Your hands wander - over her hips and back and ass and breasts, never once breaking contact, never once without creamy vanilla skin beneath your fingertips.

You reach up to the bun of hair at the back of her head and give it a light tug, pulling her head back, her throat opening up into a long, lustful moan.

Her hands search for something, anything on the wall to grasp as an outlet for her pleasure - but failing to find anything, she reaches for the desk next to her. The task is made impossible by each thrust into her body, causing her hand to bounce frantically around on the desk; her movement knocks a few notepads and pens to the floor, not that she minded, not that she gave a damn or could even process the mess she was making, not when every thrust of the stiff, long cock into her body was driving her insane with pleasure.

“I… I, oh god, I’m cum-”

You’d seen and felt Hirai Momo orgasm hundreds of times, but the orgasm that overtakes her now is perhaps the strongest you’d ever given her. Her perfect, sculpted body is reduced to a quivering, mewling mess as your next thrust drives her over the edge. She moans. She gasps. But mostly, she trembles and shakes as she cums, her gaping mouth frozen in a seemingly endless moan of pleasure.

Her pussy clenches and pulsates and tightens deliciously around your cock - and it takes every effort not to join her over the edge. For as wonderful as she was from behind you had to have her face to face, needed to see those perfect features while you filled her.

Momo seems to have the same idea, for when she eventually recovers from her orgasm she turns around, letting you regretfully slip out of her body. She almost tears her leggings from her body before turning to the desk and sweeping half of the stuff on it onto the ground. Locking eyes with you, she hops onto the desk and spreads her legs, allowing you between them.

Within seconds you are inside her again, fucking her face to face. 

She was a sight to behold from behind, but nothing quite beat watching her face as you filled her again and again with your slick, hard cock, those pretty features contorted in pleasure and lust and fulfilled need. Each thrust into her body gives her breasts a beautiful shock, her stiff nipples bouncing deliciously with each clap of your crotch against hers. The flex of her sculpted abs with each of her breaths, the soft creaminess of her thighs as she spreads them widely to take you inside her, the shaved mound above a glistening pussy and its splayed lips as your cock pumped in and out of her - it all became too much, all became too much to take in at once. It almost embarrassed you to admit you were closer to orgasm than you thought.

Momo lies back on the desk until she is resting on her elbows, giving you a perfect view of her body as you continue to fuck her. She captures both of her large breasts for a moment to pinch her own stiff nipples, before releasing them both so you could watch them bounce with each thrust into her body - just the way she knew you liked. Her eyes, locked on yours, are half-lidded and dripping with wanton desire.

For a few long, beautiful minutes you fuck the young woman on the desk, relishing the feel of every thrust, every entry and exit into her impossibly perfect body. But the feel of her wet, hot silk wrapped around your shaft, her needy and wanton cries of lust and moans of need - they all built up to an orgasm you were simultaneously craving and fearing, because you knew it would mean an end to this experience.

“Fuck, Momo, I-”

“Just cum for me, baby,” she replies, raising her torso from the desk to press her mouth against your ear as she wraps her arms and legs around you, “Please. Cum in me like you used to. Fill me again. Fill me with your cum.”

“Momo… Momo, I-”

“Cum inside me!”

When you finally cum it is like your world has ended; the pleasure overtakes every ounce of your being until you’re unsure whether you’re still alive. The pulsating of your shaft inside Momo’s hot, tight pussy, the feel of filling her body with thick, creamy semen, and the light, airy gasp of her moans are the only physical sensations you are aware of.

You almost forget to breathe - and when you finally regain consciousness, holding yourself up with weak hands on either side of Momo’s exhausted body, you have to remind yourself to do so, taking in large gulps of oxygen to feed tired lungs.

It’s Momo that raises your head with her hands until you are face to face with hers. Her eyes are heavy with fulfilled lust, but also genuine affection. She was someone you loved and someone you might still love - and you see, in those dark brown pools, that she perhaps still felt the same.

She kisses you, and it is a kiss that confirms the way she felt.

---

“This is a pretty big deal, huh?” Minatozaki Sana asks.

“Yes, yes it is,” Yoo Jeongyeon answers, although most of her attention is focused on the bank of laptops and screens in front of her.

Sana sighs to herself, seeing that Jeongyeon was too preoccupied with making last minute adjustments and preparations on her laptop to provide her with conversation. The two are sitting in the back of the van that belonged to Momo and her team, parked in an alleyway a block from Red Velvet’s apartment building. Jeongyeon was in charge of keeping an eye on all the cameras Momo and her team had planted the day before.

Sana fidgets with the backpack on her lap, playing with the zippers the same way an impatient child might while waiting for class to start. Jeongyeon turns her head from the monitors to give Sana a sharp look - and the Japanese girl gives her an apologetic bow of her head before ceasing her play with the zipper.

But soon she is tapping a beat on the backpack with her fingers.

“Sana,” Jeongyeon finally snaps.

“I’m sorry,” the Japanese girl replies, “I’m just… nervous.”

“We all are,” Jeongyeon replies, her tone relaxing somewhat, “but we’ll be okay. This time tomorrow we’ll be laughing about how we’ve finally bagged Irene.”

Sana seems comforted by the Korean girl’s confidence, and she offers her a smile.

There is a knock on the rear of the van, and the door opens to reveal a smiling Yeri.

“Ready to go, Sana-chan?” the young woman asks, her bright face beaming, showing no trace of nervousness given the gravity of the day’s upcoming events.

“Ready!” Sana answers, as brightly as she could. The Japanese girl gathers the backpack that is carrying her recording equipment and hops out of the van, giving Yeri a high five as she does so. Taking a deep breath to gather herself, she begins to walk away towards the cafe opposite the apartment building, where she was to set up her lookout point. Her role was to inform the rest of the team the second Irene arrived on the premises.

After watching Sana leave and giving Jeongyeon a reassuring smile, Yeri returns to her place in the passenger seat of the van. 

Chaeyoung, sitting in the driver’s seat, doesn’t even turn her head to welcome Yeri back into the cabin. Her eyes are locked on Sana’s swaying hips as the girl walks towards the cafe. “Damn, Japanese girls are hot,” she says under her breath.

“They sure are,” Yeri agrees as she retakes her seat. 

Had Chaeyoung been able to tear her gaze from Sana, she might have noticed something tucked into the back of Yeri’s pants.

---

“She’s here,” Momo says from her seat in front of the recording equipment, “Sana reports she’s alone. Jeongyeon says she’s at the main elevator.”

“Finally,” Jihyo says. She closes up the bulletproof vest she is wearing and draws her sidearm from the holster at her belt before racking the slide and chambering a round. On the other side of the bedroom Nayeon does the same, the thick dark blue vest looking almost out of place on her tiny frame.

The sight of Nayeon handling the weapon disturbed you somewhat; not that you felt she was incapable of handling herself - rather, you had trouble difficulty reconciling the image of the young, naive schoolgirl you once knew with the strong, confident woman who now stood in front of you. As Nayeon reholsters her pistol, some sort of compact Glock variant, she catches your eyes and gives you a sheepish smile. You are comforted, somewhat, in seeing a little bit of the girl you once knew in the woman’s soft, beautiful features.

You open the bedroom door to speak to Seulgi, who is waiting on the living room’s couch.

“She’s here.”

You wonder if there is anything else you could say, any small words of encouragement you could provide the former member of Red Velvet that might help her in some way. But when you see the determination and conviction in her eyes, you realize she didn’t need to be told anything further.

Closing the door, you step back into the bedroom, where the other three girls are standing by.

“Let’s recap. When Irene gets here, Seulgi has five minutes to confront her. Only after those minutes are up do you two go out there and arrest her.”

“I still don’t understand why she gets five minutes at all,” Jihyo states. “This is a criminal matter. We need to arrest her the second we’re able to. Every extra second she spends out there is a second she can use to get away.”

“I promised her five minutes,” you answer. “It’s the least we can do for the work she’s done to get Irene here. Without Seulgi, this doesn’t happen.”

“She deserves it,” Momo adds, giving you a reassuring nod.

“Fine. But the second those five minutes are up, Nayeon and I go in there and arrest her. Then we take her straight to the station for processing.”

“Understood,” you answer. 

Satisfied that the plan was in place and the four of you were on the same page, you take a seat next to Momo, accepting the pair of headphones she offers you that are connected to the listening and recording devices in the living room. On the screen of her monitor, you watch Seulgi pace nervously back and forth as she waits for the knock on her door.

--

“Seulgi, I-”

“No. You don’t get to speak. I ask the questions, you answer them. That’s how this goes.”

“I… I thought you were-”

“What did I just say?”

“Is Yeri-”

“She’s fine. Now stand there and shut the fuck up.”

Their first words are contentious and confrontational. You’d wondered how their first interaction would go; Seulgi, as she often did, set the tone.

Irene looked confused, almost unsure of herself - and it seemed out of place for her character, given your only other direct interaction with her. In her office at SM HQ all those months ago, Bae Irene was cold and calculating, with a ruthless streak that pervaded every aspect of her character. Now she seemed rattled, as though merely seeing Seulgi again had shaken her to the core. Understandable, given what happened the last time they saw each other.

“Do you know… what I had to go through… when you left us behind?” Seulgi asks. While she was obviously trying to remain as cold as she could, the small hints of weakness in her tone betrayed the strong front she was trying to put up.

“Seulgi… please. Let me-”

“Y’know, all those months we spent in YG’s dungeon… I thought about giving up. About letting it all go. But only one thing kept me going, Irene. Just one thing gave me the strength I needed to make it through the day. Only one thing gave me the drive to escape YG. Do you… do you know what that was?”

Irene is shaken as she listens to Seulgi’s words. She fidgets nervously with her jacket, her feet shuffling on the floor nervously. But her face - her expression - was what gave her away. She is  a broken woman, as though the very sight of Seulgi had torn down the cold ice queen persona she was so well known for.

She seems unable to even answer Seulgi’s question, and so she merely shakes her head.

“It was the possibility… the idea that I might see you again some day. That I might stand in front of you and ask you just one question. Just one word.”

Irene’s lip quivers, as though she were fighting a vain battle to hold back her tears.

“...why?”

Irene lets an exasperated gasp leave her mouth, as though it were something she were struggling to keep inside. She covers her lips with a hand, her eyes closing.

“Why?” Seulgi continues, “Why did you leave us behind? We cried and sweat and bled together, and when it came down to it - when we needed you most - you left us behind!”

Seulgi’s anger is at the fore now, and she does nothing to fight it, nothing to save her words. She is shaking, her hands balled into tight fists.

“Fucking tell me, Irene! Tell me why you left us behind!”

Through the camera feed, you witness Bae Irene do something you never in a million years thought you’d see - she cries. The tears fall from her cheeks in a glistening spill, down perfect, porcelain skin. She covers her face with her hands, as though her hands could somehow keep her from facing the accusations of her best friend and the dark memories that accompanied them.

“I’m so, so sorry, Seulgi. I-”

“No,” Seulgi demands, and while her back is turned to the camera you could tell from her tone that she too was crying. “No, you don’t get to apologize. You only get to answer the question. Now. Tell me. Tell me why.”

A few moments pass as Irene struggles to control her emotions. Your view of her is shaken; you long thought of her as a cold and calculating villain, heartless and cruel, especially as you navigated the many challenges and dangers she and her company threw your way. But that was all a far cry from the broken, teary girl on the screen of the laptop in front of you.

“I… I… Do you, do you remember… when I was first assigned to take down YG?” she asks, with uncertain words, wiping away tears from her cheeks with the back of her hand. She keeps her gaze locked on her hands as she struggles to compose herself, unwilling or unable to match Seulgi’s eyes.

“Yes. You got in close with the YG CEO.”

Irene smiles at the floor, despite her tears, as though she had just heard a joke.

“I lied to you, Seulgi. I lied to all of you. I told you I had the upper hand, had him wrapped around my finger. It was the opposite.”

There is silence for a few moments as Seulgi tries to comprehend what she was saying, and while Irene tries to compose her next words.

“I tried to overpower him, bend him to our needs, the way we always did with other men. But he was scarier than I thought. Instead, he turned it around on me. He used you four to get to me.”

“...what?”

“He suddenly had pictures of the four of you. He knew where we lived, where we worked, where we went out for dinner. He threatened to hurt you if I didn’t do what he said. And through us, he wanted to bring down SM as a whole. But even that wasn’t enough - he threatened my family too, and yours. He even had pictures of Wendy’s family in Canada. I didn’t tell you any of this. I got us into the mess, and I thought I could get us out of it.”

“But I thought… I thought you had him under your control? And that was how you found out about Blackpink, and how we needed to rescue them?”

Irene laughs again, a sad, ironic smile on her lips that carried little humor.

“That wasn’t a rescue mission, Seulgi. That was a kidnapping.” 

Seulgi doesn’t answer, seemingly shocked into silence.

“YG relied on Blackpink. They were YG’s corporate espionage division - not their R&D team, like I told you. Blackpink were the ones that stalked our families and got YG their information. Without them their company was going under, thanks to all those scandals they were involved in. Taking Blackpink down was a form of revenge on them - and I thought that it would keep him from threatening us ever again. Once he promised to leave us alone, I’d let the girls go. The less you four knew about it, the better off you were. But things went south during the mission...”

“Jesus, Irene…”

“...and I had to leave you behind. I thought… I thought I could exchange the Blackpink girls for you and Yeri. He insisted I release the girls first. I was desperate and I didn’t know what to do. I wanted to make sure you two were okay - so I released them. But YG didn’t hold up their end of the bargain. They kept you two. And they used you against me, as revenge.”

“How?”

“They threatened to hurt you if I didn’t comply with them. They knew JYP was their next closest competitor, so they told me to do whatever it took to bring them down.”

“So all that backstabbing, hiring Chou Tzuyu and Minatozaki Sana to bring down JYP, hacking their servers - that was all on YG’s orders?”

“Yes,” Irene answers, the word a soft gasp that leaves her lips, as though she didn’t want to say it. 

When Seulgi speaks, it is only after long, agonizing minutes in silence.

“That… that’s not enough, Irene.”

“...what?”

“You… you still left us there.”

“I had the Blackpink girls. I thought I could-”

“That doesn’t change the fact that you left us behind. It doesn’t take away the pain-”

“Seulgi-”

“I would have never left you behind, Irene. I would have stood there and fought with you. I would have been captured with you. And I would have been right there with you while those YG fuckers-”

“Seulgi, please. YG-”

“No. No, Irene, No. I don’t give a shit about YG or SM or JYP or whoever the fuck else was involved. No. You don’t get to tell me what to do. Not anymore.”

Tears have begun to fall down Irene’s cheeks again, although she makes no effort to wipe them away, facing Seulgi with as brave a face as she could possibly make. Perhaps she knew, somewhere deep down, that facing Seulgi’s accusations was a punishment she deserved.

“I loved you, Irene!” Seulgi says, her words desperate. “I loved you. I still love you. And when I saw you leave us behind it shattered my heart into a million pieces. That pain, and the pain we endured at YG - it was all because of you. You deserve to feel the same pain I did.”

In the bedroom, Jihyo rises to her feet.

“That’s it,” she says with a hushed whisper for fear of the two in the living room hearing, “that’s all we need. Her time is up, and she’s about to go ballistic. We go now.”

Before you can stop her or say otherwise, Jihyo is already opening the bedroom door, Nayeon close on her heels. 

“Seoul PD! Bae Irene, you are under arrest,” Jihyo announces, ignoring the confused protests of Seulgi, Momo and yourself. She begins to read out the list of Irene’s crimes as Nayeon steps behind her and handcuffs her.

The next few seconds are a whirlwind of confusion, an overload on the senses. Seulgi’s anguished cries of anger; Momo trying to reason in vain with Jihyo; Nayeon reading Irene her rights in both English and Korean; Irene’s cold, sad eyes, and the defeated look on her tear streaked face as her wrists are cuffed behind her. It all almost seemed to move in slow motion, the angry and sad and stern tones all blending into one long, incomprehensible blur.

Some time later, you’d look back at what would happen next and remember the utter chaos that erupted all in the space of a few seconds. You remember the way it felt - the sudden, unexpected rush of air pressure. The way you felt it in your skin and especially in your ears. The bright, wicked flashes of light that stole the attention of your eyes before temporarily blinding you with their unwanted brilliance.

And later you’d wonder how someone who’d seen and heard many thousands of gunshots on TV, movies and video games was still utterly unprepared for the sound of a gun firing twice, indoors, from only a few feet away. Gunshots, you realized that day, are greedy, possessive things - demanding every ounce of your attention, against your will, ignorant of your preparation or readiness for the sensations that accompanied them.

When the gunshots finally release your senses from their grasp, your eyes are the first to recover. They register two bodies on the floor lying in crumpled heaps. Your last glimpse of Seulgi is as she’s dragging Irene out of the door and into the hallway, a smoking pistol in her hand.

---

Author’s Note: :O