#to be clear i never done this before so there might be. hiccups lol | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

pazumane-archive · 3 years

Text

Closing Time - Asahi x Reader

Characters: Asahi Azumane, female reader, original female character, small Taichi cameo

Relationships: Asahi Azumane x Reader

Genre: Fluff, hurt/comfort if you squint, SFW but 16+ please

Warnings: Alcohol, general drunken shenanigans, emetophobia (mentions of vomit), bad language

WC: 6.4k

Author’s Note: Hi everyone! This is a totally self-indulgent bedtime-scenario-type story because there is simply not enough Asahi/Reader content out there and I adore him. It’s also my first time writing in 2nd person, so PLEASE feel free to send me any feedback, please just be kind :) I really don’t like to use y/n, so I only used it a couple times towards the end when I wasn’t sure what else to do lol

The preview begins with the bolded text below and fic continues after the cut :)

Reblogs appreciated! <3

You weren’t planning on getting this drunk. But by the time it got to be about 11:30, you didn’t know what else to do. You had put so much effort and energy into making yourself look nice just for your date not to show up. Your roommate was out of town, so instead of going home and pouting, you figured you might as well have some fun while you were out. But you’ve never been good at exercising restraint, and the fact that you were alone wasn’t doing you any favors. But by closing time had rolled around, you could hardly see straight. You needed help, so you call upon an old friend.

“Do you have anybody you can call for a ride?” Kawanishi asks.

Kawanishi’s the bartender at this izakaya, and over the course of the night, you spent most of the time talking his ear off. He’s nice enough, and held pleasant conversation for the last few hours. He says he used to be a volleyball player, and had even played on the same team as a one of the guys on the Japan National Team. You forget to ask him which school he attended, but he probably was tired of talking to your drunk ass anyway, so you don’t bother asking. “Yeah,” you say, digging in your purse for your phone. “Are you sure? I can call a cab for you if you need it,” he offers. “Nah,” you say, hiccupping between words. “I’ll call somebody. Thank you though.” “No problem,” he says. “Just try to make it quick.” You scroll through your phone, trying to figure out who to call. Your roommate’s out of town visiting her parents, so she’s a no-go. You could call Kokomi. Honestly, she would deserve the 2AM phone call for setting you up on this failed blind date in the first place. Ever since you moved to Tokyo last month, she was constantly trying to set you up with somebody, whether it was a friend, a coworker, or some rando that she had met on the train. Unfortunately, all of them were jerks. And this one was the biggest jerk of all. You silently curse yourself for going along with her antics again.

“He’s great, you’ll love him!” “You said that about the last three guys you tried to set me up with, Kokomi.” “Please!! You’ll never know if you don’t even give him a chance.”

Well, you gave him a chance. And it ended up with you all alone, drunk as hell in an unfamiliar part of the city. You dial Kokomi’s number, but it goes straight to voicemail. “Bitch,” you mutter. You unlock your phone again and look through to find somebody that might be able to take you home. You scroll back to the top of your contact list, and your eyes settle on another name. He lives just a few blocks away, and knowing him, he’s probably awake working on something anyway. You click on his contact and wait for him to answer.

The exhaustion’s starting to get to him. It’s the weekend and he can afford to stay up an extra couple of hours to finish this design, but the combination of fatigue and frustration are taking over. He sets down his pencil and moves towards his bed, until his cell starts to buzz. He glances over at the clock on the wall. 1:49 AM.

Who could possibly be calling at this hour?

Asahi picks up his phone, surprised to see your name on the screen. His heart skips a beat in his chest, both from excitement and nervousness. Aside from his teammates, you’re one of the only people he bothered to keep in contact with after high school. The two of you had even met up a few times since you moved to the city, but he never would have expected you to call at this hour unless… unless something is wrong. “Hey you, what’s up?” He says, choking back a yawn. “Hiiiii Asahiiii! I tried to call Kokomi but she didn’t answer her phone… could you come pick me up?” Your voice is thick and your words are almost unintelligible as you speak. It’s obvious that you’re far from sober. “Where are you?” Asahi asks, failing to mask the anxiety in his voice. “Are you okay? Are you safe?” “M’fine,” you slur. “But I…” Suddenly the call drops. Asahi calls you back in a panic, his heart racing as he waited for you to answer. You could be in danger and he’d be powerless to help you. He doesn’t even know where you are. “Hello?” A man’s voice comes through the speaker. “Who are you? Where is she?” Asahi asks frantically. “Relax, man. I’m just the bartender,” he says. “Look, your friend’s next to me, but she’s on the verge of passing out. Can you come get her before she pukes all over my bar? She’s at Zoetrope. You know where that is?” “Of course, I’m on my way now! I’ll be there in ten minutes,” Asahi says, grabbing his apartment keys and putting on a pair of shoes. He’s out the door almost immediately.

Kawanishi presses your phone back into your hands. Your head is spinning so fast that you struggle to keep your eyes open. “Is he coming?” you ask. “Yeah, he’s on the way,” Kawanishi says. “He’ll be here soon. Now do me a favor, don’t get this drunk the next time you come into my izakaya or I’ll have to kick you out.” “You’re kicking me out???” “Only if you start throwing up,” he says under his breath. “I’m not going to throw up!” you exclaim, suddenly becoming very aware of the churning in your stomach. You grumble, slumping over the bar. You squeeze your eyes shut, the spinning in your head only getting worse with every breath you take. You feel like you’re going to die, and honestly, between the embarrassment of being stood up and the wave of nausea coming over you, you’re ready to welcome that death with open arms. “Hey!” Kawanishi says, smacking the bar next to your head. “Your friend’s going to be here soon, don’t fall asleep or I’ll throw you out on the street myself.” “I’m sorry, Kawanishi-san.” You sit up slowly and cradle your head in your hands once more, trying to make the world stop spinning.

Please get here soon, Asahi.

Asahi sprints down the street as fast as he can towards the izakaya. He’s sure that he looks suspicious running down the street alone at night, but he doesn’t care. You’re in trouble, and he’s the only person that can help you. He finally makes it to the bar and hastily pulls the door open. You’re dressed beautifully, and your makeup and hair are exquisitely done. Unfortunately, the way you’re slumped over the bar makes it obvious that something’s wrong. He’s not sure what happened, but whatever it was, it must have been rough. The bartender gently helps you out of your seat, and Asahi can’t help but think that he looks very familiar. You straighten up and as soon as you make eye contact with Asahi, you perk up. “Asahi-san!” you exclaim, rushing towards him and almost falling over. You crush him in an unexpectedly tight hug. “Long time no see, big guy!” “I saw you three days ago,” he says under his breath. You continue babbling unintelligibly, and Asahi looks up at the bartender. “Did she close out her tab?” Asahi asks. “I took care of it already,” the bartender replies. “Please just make sure she gets home okay. She’s had a rough night.” “Yeah, of course,” Asahi says. “Thanks for helping her out.” “No problem.” Asahi peels your arms off him and starts to nudge you towards the door. Just before the two of you leave, Asahi stops and turns back to the bartender. “Have we met before?” he asks. “I played for Shiratorizawa. Didn’t think I’d see you again, Karasuno Samurai.” Asahi frowns slightly. He hasn’t heard that nickname high school, and it’s weird hearing it again now. “Right,” he says. “Well, thanks again. Have a good night.” Asahi leads you out of the bar and down the sidewalk. You hold tightly to his arm, stumbling over yourself. He braces you against his side, and you take this opportunity to tease him a little bit. “Do you like my outfit, Asahi-san?” you ask, pressing into his side. “Yeah, it’s really nice!” he answers nervously, turning his head to hide the blush creeping up his cheeks. He’s not lying – you look beautiful, both your top and your skirt accentuating your curves in all the right places. But it would be wrong to say anything more than that while you’re in this state. That wouldn’t be fair to either of you. He brusquely clears his throat and keeps walking as soon as the light signals that you can cross. “I dressed up extra nice tonight, but it didn’t even fucking matter,” you grumble, your voice breaking slightly. Asahi either doesn’t hear you, or does hear you and decides not to say anything. “I’m soooo glad you’re here,” you say, drawing out your words even longer than you were a minute ago. “I’m sorry, this is super embarrassing! I should’ve figured this out on my own.” “It’s okay,” Asahi says. “How long have you been in Tokyo again?” “A month? I think?” “Exactly,” he says. “You probably don’t know your way around that much. I’d feel terrible if I wasn’t able to help you find your way home.” “Meh,” you say. “I’ve had the worst night of my fucking life, so maybe it would be better if I passed out in a ditch somewhere.” “Do you want to talk about it?” Asahi asks. “No,” you answer quickly. “Okay.” You start blathering again and Asahi has to practically drag you down the street behind him. The station just past his apartment has a train that can drop you right by your building. He can just take a cab back after he gets you home. He considers inviting you stay the night at his place since it’s right there, but he’s afraid of being weird, so he doesn’t say anything. The two of you come to a stop at the train station… which is closed. “I’m sorry,” Asahi says remorsefully. “I guess the train stopped running at midnight. I’ll call you a cab.” He goes to pull his phone out of his pocket, but you grab his hand before he can. “Can I stay at your place tonight?” you ask sheepishly. “I… my roommate is out of town. And I’m really not doing good right now. I just really don’t want to be alone.” Despite how out of it you’ve been since he picked you up, Asahi sees nothing but complete sincerity in your eyes. Tonight must have been really rough. “Are you sure?” he asks. “I’ll just sleep on the couch- or a futon if you have one!” you say, nodding. “Okay.” Asahi turns back towards his apartment and you follow closely behind him, not letting go of his hand the entire time.

Asahi helps you across the threshold of his apartment and sits you down on a chair by the door. “Asahi-san, you’re so handsome with your hair down like that,” you say, reaching up to twirl a finger in his long chestnut tresses. “And you’re loopy,” Asahi mutters, disentangling your fingers from his hair. Once again, he finds himself hiding a blush. He’s not used to being showered with compliments, and he knows you wouldn’t be saying this stuff if you were sober. He kicks off his shoes and kneels down in front of you, helping you take yours off. “How are you feeling?” he asks you. “Can I get you some water or a some–” “Why didn’t you ask me out when we were in high school?” you ask suddenly. “I think I made it pretty obvious that I had a crush on you. It’s all I could think about when you were holding my hand back there.” “I – I, uh,” Asahi stammers. You burst out laughing, startling Asahi. It’s that same boisterous laugh you’ve had for as long as he could remember knowing you. You were always self-conscious about it in high school, but your laugh has always been one of Asahi’s favorite things about you. Despite the fact that it’s at his expense, he’s glad to see your mood improve. Asahi considers your question for a moment. He really liked you too back then, and everyone knew it. Suga and Daichi constantly teased him for it.

So why hadn’t he asked you out back then?

Well, for a number of reasons. He spent so much of his third year focused on volleyball that he didn’t have the mental or emotional capacity for much else. He hadn’t even planned on going back to school after graduation until Nishinoya helped convince him to pursue his passions. He felt directionless, and he didn’t want to burden anybody else with his indecision. But most importantly, he was scared you’d reject him. Suga was right. He really was a coward. He’d dated a few people since high school graduation, but none of them made him feel the way you did, and they didn’t treat him as well as you would have. Which begs the question – why hasn’t he asked you out since you moved to Tokyo? He pushes the thought to the back of his mind. This isn’t the kind of conversation to be having when you aren’t even able to form a coherent sentence. Asahi’s thoughts are interrupted by your hand on his shoulder and a loud hiccup. “I should wash my face. Can I wash my face?” “Sure,” Asahi says, helping you stand up. You stumble forward, but he catches you easily and pulls you back to your feet. He quietly leads you to the bathroom and sits you down on the edge of the bathtub. “I’m sorry,” you say. “I’m a mess.” “No, you’re not. Hold on a second,” he says, opening the drawer under the sink. He pulls out a small package of makeup wipes and takes one out. He kneels in front of you and begins wiping the makeup off your face. “I know they’re not great for your skin,” he says. “But it’s better than nothing, right?” “Why do you even have those?” you ask between hiccups. “Do you wear makeup? I mean, it’s obviously fine if you do, but it doesn’t really seem like your thing.” “I don’t, but you never know when they’ll come in handy! I do work with a lot of makeup artists,” he says, somewhat defensively. You get the sense that he’s lying about something, but Asahi changes the subject before you can probe him any further. “So what were you doing there by yourself?” he asks. “It’s not safe to be alone so late at night.” Clearly this was the wrong thing to ask. All the negative emotions and thoughts you were having all even spring to the forefront of your mind, and you start to cry. Asahi starts apologizing profusely, but you wave him off. “It’s fine,” you sniffle, wiping a tear away from your cheek. “Kokomi was trying to set me up with one of her friends, but he never showed up.” Asahi sits back on his heels. Kokomi is another girl from Karasuno that ended up in Tokyo. She wasn’t in the same class as him, but he remembers how loud she always was in the hallways. Honestly, both of you were always loud, but you’ve always been much more considerate of others than Kokomi ever was. “Shit,” he mumbles. “That really sucks. I’m sorry.” “Yeah. It does suck.” Asahi grabs another wipe and asks you to close your eyes. You do as he says, and he lightly wipes off your eye makeup. He’s worked with enough models to recognize that you’re wearing false eyelashes, so he gently pulls those off too. You feel yourself start to wobble on the edge of the tub, so you grip his arm to steady yourself. “I’m sorry,” you whisper. “It’s okay,” he says. “You don’t need to keep apologizing to me.” “Do you think there’s something wrong with me?” you ask suddenly. “Wait, what?” “I just… this keeps happening to me. Everyone always says that it’s because they’re not the right person for me, but it’s starting to feel like there’s just something wrong with me instead,” you say, choking back a sob. “I know I just moved here, but I’m just so lonely. I hate feeling like I’m not good enough.” Asahi tenderly wipes a tear from your cheek and cups your face in both hands. “Hey, look at me. There is nothing wrong with you,” he says sincerely. “That guy is an idiot and a jerk. If he had any idea how extraordinary you are, he never would’ve done that to you.” You can’t bring yourself to look him in the eyes. You don’t feel like you deserve to be spoken to like this – with such genuine kindness and sincerity. Asahi makes you feel so good. So special. He always has. And he’s just so… tender, especially for somebody who looks as intimidating as he does. You wonder if those feelings from high school ever truly went away. You sit up straighter and try to smile at him, but your stomach flips unexpectedly and violently. “Asahi-san?” you ask, gripping his shoulder tightly. “Yeah?” he replies. “Toilet.” Asahi moves out of the way as fast as possible. You hunch over the rim and retch into the toilet bowl. Asahi quickly scoops up your hair and holds it behind your head as you throw up. “Please, just leave me,” you mutter. “I’m gonna fucking die here.” “I’m not going to leave you here and you’re not going to die,” Asahi says, gingerly picking up the last loose strands laying on your neck and holding them back with the rest of your hair. Your back tenses up again before you begin heaving once more. Asahi tucks his nose into the collar of his shirt, careful to make sure that he’s out of your field of vision. He wants to be there for you but he had a weak stomach himself and the sight and smell of somebody else’s vomit is something he knows he won’t be able to handle. You mumble weak apologies between hacks, but Asahi just ignores them and rubs your back gently. After what feels like an eternity, the churning in your stomach finally stops and you reach up towards the flush handle. The exhaustion in your body and heart finally begin to catch up with you, and your hand falls back to your side. “I got it. Do you think you’re done?” Asahi asks, coaxing you back up into a seated position. You nod, too tired to try to speak. Asahi quickly tugs his shirt back down from his face before you can see and closes the toilet lid. “I’m sorry,” you mumble. “Don’t be,” Asahi says, flushing the toilet. “I’m your friend. I want to help you. And I’ve already told you that you don’t need to apologize to me.” Asahi helps you sit on the top of the toilet and rises to his feet. “Don’t go anywhere,” he says, scurrying out of the room. Although your eyes are closed, you still feel your body swaying. More than anything, you just want to go to sleep. Asahi pads back into the room and presses a wooden cup into your hands. “Drink this,” he says, turning on the faucet. Even though drinking something is the last thing you want to be doing right now, you go ahead and lift the cup to your open mouth. Cold water passes your lips and washes away some of the disgusting taste in your mouth. It feels gross, but you force yourself to drink all of it. Asahi takes the cup from your hand and turns the faucet back off. You flinch at the feeling of a damp washcloth on your face. “It’s okay,” Asahi says gently, cradling your chin with his free hand and angling your face up. “Just cleaning you up a little.” You murmur in acknowledgement and Asahi continues to wipe your face down. You almost fall asleep sitting on his toilet, but he gently shakes you to keep you awake. “Stay with me for another minute,” he says softly. “You can go to sleep soon. You’re gonna be just fine. I promise.” His words and his voice are so sweet that you want to cry. A couple rogue tears drip from your eyes and onto his hands. “I’m sorry,” you say once more. Asahi sets the washcloth on the counter and starts to pull you to your feet. You struggle to stay on your feet, so instead, he carefully scoops you into his arms and carries you out the bathroom. You don’t care where you go, you just need to sleep. Asahi’s pretty certain you’re asleep by the time he deposits you on his mattress. Your chest rises and falls slowly as he pulls his duvet over you. He begins to make his way to the couch, but stops when he feels you grab his hand. “Please don’t go, Asahi-san,” you whisper. “Please.” You tug harder at his fingers and he knows he can’t refuse you. He ends up sitting on the edge of the bed holding your hand until you fall asleep.

As soon as your quiet snores permeate the silence, Asahi untangles his fingers from yours. He brushes a loose strand of hair out of your face and he can’t help but let his eyes linger on your sleeping face for just a moment. The moonlight trickling through the window illuminates your hair and casts a silvery glow on your skin. Despite the awful night you’ve had, you look absolutely radiant. He feels himself blushing again, but he takes some comfort in the fact that he doesn’t have to try and hide it this time. Not while you’re fast asleep in his bed. He’s far too scared to admit it, even to himself, but he’s fantasized about falling asleep next to you many times before. But in those fantasies you weren’t drunk and crying over another man. Asahi sighs, stands up, and moves over to the dresser as quietly as he can. After setting a few things out for you, he goes into the bathroom, gets ready for bed and heads to the couch for the night.

By the time you wake up in the morning, you feel like you’re going to die. You can’t remember what exactly happened the previous night. The last thing you remember clearly was talking to the bartender about high school volleyball, of all things. Your head’s pounding, and your stomach aches painfully, screaming at you to please eat something. You don’t open your eyes, fearing that it would somehow trigger another round of vomiting. Eventually, you force yourself into a seated position and open your eyes. The bedroom you’re in is small, but pretty well-decorated. It’s decently tidy. The only mess is a few crumpled up clothing designs discarded on the floor next to the trash bin.

Designs? Did that mean?

You’re at Asahi’s apartment. In his bed. Your eyes widen in panic.

What happened last night?

You’re still wearing the clothes that you wore to the bar last night. And there’s no evidence of him ever being in bed with you. You reach over towards your phone, which has been graciously plugged in for you and set on the bedside table. That’s when you notice the note along with a sleeve of crackers and a glass of ginger ale.

Good morning!

There’s a set of clothes you can wear at the foot of the bed and a spare toothbrush in the bathroom. Feel free to take a shower if you want. Extra towels are underneath the sink. Please have something to eat and drink too. You’ll feel better if you do.

-Asahi

P.S. Please don’t feel bad. It’s okay.

You grab a few of the crackers from the bedside table and eat them, washing them down with the ginger ale.

Why does Asahi have to be so damn considerate? The whole situation is so embarrassing.

You contemplate just grabbing your phone and getting the hell out of his apartment, but you’re not going to pass up the opportunity to shower. You finish the last of the crackers, chug down the ginger ale, and grab the spare clothes at the end of the bed. You turn the doorknob as silently as you can and awkwardly creep down the hall towards the bathroom, stopping briefly to peek in the living room. Asahi’s fast asleep on the couch, clad only in pajama pants and a pair of fuzzy socks. His hair is down and messily splayed across the throw pillow he’s resting his head on. Quiet snores pass his lips. He looks cute. Your eyes trail from his face and down to his stomach. Despite quitting volleyball after high school, he seems to have mostly maintained his athletic form, except for a tiny little layer of pudge on his lower stomach. The corners of your lips twitch up into a smile, until that little voice in the back of your mind reminds you of your place.

Quit staring, you perv! You need to get out of here!

You hurriedly continue down the hallway and jump into the shower as soon as you get into the bathroom. You think that maybe if you clean up fast enough, you can get out of Asahi’s apartment before he wakes up. However, as soon as you step into the shower, all worries about rushing out disappear into the back of your mind. You bask in the hot water, the steam clearing your sinuses and relieving some of the pain in your head. You silently thank the gods that Asahi actually uses conditioner, and not just 3-in-1 like most of the other men you were previously…. acquainted with. Although, it makes sense to you that somebody with hair like Asahi’s would have a strict haircare routine. As you shower, fragmented memories of last night start to come back to you.

Being stood up at the bar. Calling Asahi for help. Puking your guts out in his bathroom. Him carrying you into his room and laying you down on his bed. Him staying by your side until you fell asleep. You wishing he would’ve crawled into bed with you and held you through the night… Wait, what was that last part?

As soon as you’re done rinsing the conditioner from your hair, you step out of the shower and swiftly towel off. You find the spare toothbrush Asahi mentioned, take it out of the packaging, and brush your teeth with his toothpaste. The dry, gross feeling in your mouth is quickly replaced with a minty fresh taste. You slip on the sweatpants and t-shirt that Asahi left for you and dry your hair. Thankfully, Asahi isn’t as huge as most people make him out to be, so while the clothes he left out are a bit big on you, you’re not drowning in them. You’ll just bring them back some other day. You start combing through your hair, and that’s when you hear it – the sound of somebody padding around in the apartment. Shit. Once the footsteps quiet down, you rush out of the bathroom and towards the front door. Asahi eyes you as you scoop up your shoes, pushing his glasses up his nose. “Good morning!” he says kindly. “How are you feeling?” “I’m so sorry Azumane-san, it won’t happen again!” you say as you throw open the door and rush into the hallway. “Hold on, wait up!” he says as you pull the door closed behind you. You run all the way to the stairs at the end of the hallway and go to call Kokomi for a ride home. That’s when you realize that your phone is still plugged into the wall in Asahi’s room. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. You turn around and trudge back towards his apartment. Before you can even knock, the door opens slowly. Asahi stands there in just his pajama pants, holding your phone out to you. “You shouldn’t leave without your phone,” he says. You thank him and take your phone, a blush creeping up your cheeks. You try not to stare at his bare chest, already feeling like a creep for ogling him while he was sleeping. “Your clothes are still in the bathroom, too,” he says. “I can go get them for you. Or I can just wash them and give them back to you another time if you want to leave.” “No, that’s okay,” you say, covering your flushing cheeks with the collar of his shirt. “I’ll get them. Can I come in?” “Of course.” Asahi steps out of your way and you head straight for the bathroom, avoiding looking in his eyes. Asahi never gets angry, and you know he wouldn’t be mad at you over something like this, but a lingering sense of shame still washes over you. You scoop up your clothes and leave the bathroom. As soon as you cross the threshold into the living room, the smell of coffee and frying fish washes over you. Asahi stands in the kitchen, cooking breakfast. In the time that you were in the bathroom, he put on a Black Jackals sweatshirt and threw his hair into a loose bun. “Do you want a cup of coffee?” he asks, smiling at you and pouring his own cup. “It’ll help with the hangover.” You stand there and ponder his offer for a moment. Sensing your hesitancy, Asahi suddenly turns back to the stove and mumbles something that you can’t quite make out. “What did you say?” you ask. Asahi rubs the back of his neck, a nervous habit he’s had since you were kids. “I don’t mean to pressure you to stay or anything! I just thought it might help for you to have something more than crackers and ginger ale.” “You’ve done plenty to help me since last night,” you say. “But I’ll take that coffee if the offer is still on the table.” “It is!” Asahi says a little too enthusiastically for his own good. You can’t help but smirk as you take your seat at the kitchen table. Asahi pours you a cup of coffee and slides you a bowl of the rice and fish he made. You thank him quietly and start to eat. He slides into the chair across from you and eats his own breakfast, eyeing you carefully. “What?” you ask after catching him staring. “Since when have you ever called me Azumane-san?” he asks. “I don’t know,” you mumble into your coffee mug. “I didn’t think we reverted back from first name basis,” he says. “I thought we knew each other better than that.” “I don’t know,” you say, a devilish smile crossing your face. “Care to explain why you actually had those makeup wipes in your bathroom drawer? I doubt your makeup artists are coming over to your apartment.” Now it’s Asahi’s turn to blush again. “My ex-girlfriend left them here,” he says. “Felt like a waste to just throw them out.” “Ex-girlfriend?!” you exclaim suddenly, startling Asahi and causing him to drop the wipe on the floor. “I didn’t know you were seeing somebody!” “Yeah,” he says, throwing the wipe in the trash and grabbing a fresh one. “We broke up a while before you moved to the city. She left a bunch of her stuff here and refused to come pick it up. I think she was just too embarrassed to see me again. I got rid of most of it a while ago, but I kept some of the more… uh, utilitarian things.” “I’m sorry,” you say sincerely. “Why did you break up?” Asahi feels a slight pang in his chest. He met his last girlfriend through his job. She was nice enough, and things seemed like they were going okay until he showed up at her apartment to surprise her for their 6 month anniversary, only to find another man in her bed. “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to,” you say. “It’s fine. She cheated on me with some other guy,” he says, his expression darkening. “I think they’re engaged now.” “Shit,” you say. “What a bitch.” “Woah, settle down, it’s okay –” “No, it’s not,” you say firmly. “You deserve someone way better than that. Somebody that treats you with the love and respect that you deserve.” Asahi knows you’re right, but he doesn’t really want to press it. That whole mess had done a number on his mental health, and he really doesn’t want to burden you with his emotional baggage. He adjusts his glasses again and forces a smile. “You know, you should really take your own advice,” he says. You try to think back on what you had said to him last night. The details are fuzzy, but you remember crying. A lot. Instead of answering him, you shovel down the last of the rice and fish. “Thank you for the meal,” you say. Asahi smiles and nods at you before beginning to clear the dishes away. You stand up and stop him, insisting that you clean up yourself. As you finish drying the bowls, your phone buzzes. You check it, only to see a handful of missed texts from Kokomi.

Ono Kokomi [8:32} Hey!! Sorry I missed your call. How was he? (°◡°♡) [9:14] That good? (^.~)☆ [9:18] Or that bad?! (;;;*_*) [9:57] HELLO?? (ﾉಥ益ಥ)ﾉ [10:32] ARE YOU ALIVE?!?!?! 〣( ºΔº )〣

You roll your eyes and quickly type out your response.

Y/N [10:33] Yeah, no thanks to you. (￢_￢;)

Ono Kokomi [10:34] Was it really that bad?

Y/N [10:34] He didn’t even show up. (╥_╥) [10:34] Azumane picked me up at 2 AM because I was too drunk to go home alone. I stayed the night at his place. [10:34] Speaking of which, can you come pick me up? Not really in a state to take the train and I think you owe me one.

Ono Kokomi [10:35] (⊙_⊙) [10:35] Spill. ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

Y/N [10:36] There’s nothing to spill. I threw up in his bathroom and he slept on the couch. Can you just answer my question please? (҂` ﾛ ´)凸

Ono Kokomi [10:36] Yeah, yeah, yeah. I’m on my way, lovebird. (￣ε￣＠)

“Everything okay?” Asahi asks. “Yeah,” you say, slipping your phone back into your pocket. “Kokomi’s going to come pick me up.” “Are you sure? I can take you if you want,” he offers. “Yeah, she’s already on her way,” you say, setting the bowl down and turning to face him. “Besides, you’ve done more than enough for me already over the last twelve hours.” You silently pick up your things and walk towards the door. Asahi rises from his chair and awkwardly clears his throat. “Do you have all your stuff?” You nod and smile. Before you open the door, you approach him and wrap your arms around his waist. He shyly hugs you back, hoping you can’t hear the rapid pounding in his chest. “Thank you, Asahi,” you whisper. “You’re amazing.” You let go first and leave his apartment quietly. As soon as the door closes, Asahi walks back into the living room and flops down on the couch. He covers his face with his hands and groans. This morning was almost too much for him – seeing you in his clothes, eating breakfast together, you hugging him before you left. It was all so painfully domestic, and he wishes it didn’t have to end. If only he wasn’t such a coward, he would’ve asked you to stay longer. He doesn’t know how long he lays there until he finally decides to get moving for the day and finish that piece he was working on when you called last night. He checks his phone and sees your name pop up on the screen.

Y/N [11:00] I’m home. Thanks again for babysitting me last night. Whatever did I do to deserve you as my guardian angel? ଘ(੭ˊᵕˋ)੭* ੈ✩‧₊˚ [11:00] Or was that Noya-san? I forget. (^ω~)

Azumane Asahi [11:01] Lol. You’re welcome. And that was what we called Noya in our club days, but I don’t mind you calling me that too (* ^ ω ^)

Y/N [11:03] Let me make it up to you. [11:04] Come over for dinner tomorrow night?

Asahi almost drops his phone on his face. His fingers fumble as he types his response. He waits a moment before sending it, rereading it ten times to make sure he doesn’t come across as desperate.

Azumane Asahi [11:07] I’d love to. Do you want me to bring anything?

Y/N [11:08] That’s not necessary. I owe you a nice dinner. [11:09] You still like tonkotsu ramen?

Azumane Asahi [11:10] I do!

Y/N [11:11] It’s a date! See you tomorrow! (☞°ヮ°)☞ ☜(°ヮ°☜)

“You said nothing happened last night,” Kokomi says, staring over your shoulder at your phone. “Nothing happened, Kokomi. Now leave me alone,” you snap, tossing one of your throw pillows at her. She deftly catches it and plops down on the couch next to you. “Please,” she says, swatting you with the pillow. “The only reason you two haven’t gotten together is because you’re the densest people on the planet. I bet he’s flopped down on his couch right now thinking about how he doesn’t even want to wait that long to see you.” “Shut up,” you grumble. Kokomi’s phone rings and she quickly checks it. “Anyway, I have to go meet Kaito,” she says. “Got to go. Let me know how your date goes!” She waves and practically skips out the front door. You lay down and start making a shopping list for ingredients for tonkatsu ramen. As soon as you’re done, you set your phone down and cross your arms over your face.

“I bet he’s flopped down on his couch right now thinking about how he doesn’t even want to wait that long to see you.” No, Kokomi. That’s me.

#asahi azumane #azumane asahi #asahi x reader #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu #haikyuu fic #haikyuu fic writer #asahi x female reader #asahi x you #asahi x yn

76 notes · View notes

stilemawillow · 3 years

Note

Thank you for replying :') I'm not sure if you have rules for requests? But if this is okay with you, can I request some Levi x reader when one of them does something embarrassing but cute? Crack! Thank you wuuuuvs 🥺

yes, i do take requests but i do them slowly so sorry for that, i typed down a short drabble (1.6k words, kind of got out of hand lol), hope you still like it. also i was brainstorming the embarrassing but cute thing for like ten minutes, i completely blanked lol

............................................................................

It was late, the Survey Corps had had a celebratory gathering in honour of their last remotely successful mission - if nothing else in regards to the few casualties. The cadets were awarded some time off and a bigger meal than usual and the superiors had waited for them to depart so they could spoil themselves with a bit of their alcohol reserve.

The Commander hadn’t set a curfew for them but many left after a glass or two, too tired to stay and knowing they’d still have work the next day. The others - meaning (Y/N), Hanji and Nanaba - were having fun, being loud and, as all three would say - living life to their best. The only left was Levi Ackerman, who stayed in the beginning and spend just a little time with the females before deciding to spare his eardrums some of the raucous torture.

He’d gone on a walk around the HQ to let the pleasant warmth of the alcohol in the crevice of his ribcage fade. He’d always had a high tolerance, thus why drinking was a complete waste of time to him - he’d drain the whole reserve in order to feel anything out of the ordinary or, as Hanji and (Y/N) often described - a disconnection between his brain and body so strong he acted on nothing but his instincts.

The clock was pointing at one past midnight and he was sure there was anybody awake but him. He decided, since he doubted sleep would come to him tonight, to pass by the mess hall to make himself a cup of tea and clean up after the loud drunkards in the meantime.

Except the mess hall still had one inhabitant, in the face of Squad Leader (Y/N) (L/N), or, to Levi, the human embodiment of weird. She’d been his comrade for about five years now and were considered close; she’d made it a point to breach his walls like a firing cannon and he’d struggled to fight her off for a while but he didn’t hate her completely - never had and never thought he would - and so he let her in eventually. Their relationship was simple and platonic, maintain the opposite as Hanji might.

Levi and (Y/N) regarded it as exchanging favours, with silence on his side and loud persistence on hers to make up for it. There was understanding too. He’d often fancied the idea of murdering Hanji in cold blood for pointing out a bit too much his habitual proclivity to let (Y/N) touch him and sometimes, touch her back. She was somebody who didn’t mind rumours and didn’t find use in wasting her energy debunking them, so there had been an established routine between them - she could touch him when nobody was looking. The routine was set in stone around the time she found out he didn’t scream at her too much when she did it in front of others too.

Tonight, (Y/N)’s drinking had gotten a bit out of hand, because she was leaning against one of the tables, cursing at an empty bottle and swaying just a bit. Levi approached her and had just cleared his throat when her shoulders jumped and she almost tripped when turning to look at him.

“Can you even get to your room in this condition?” His question was reasonable but what he didn’t know was that she didn’t have the mental capacity to process it. Or him.

“’m in perrrrfect condition. I can go to the moon too.” Her eyes were narrowed and the gaze in them - foggy. Levi gave a sigh and pinched the bridge of his nose, then, pointedly as he could, reached out a hand to grab and stabilise her. “Ew, don’t touch me!” She slapped his fingers before they could even grab her, then he was left to blink at her disgusted expression.

“Come, we have to get you to bed.” He was talking boredly, like a grown person explaining 1+1 to a child. Her brows furrowed and she moved away from him but the look in her eyes didn’t clear up.

“Bed? You want me in bed? Well, I say no because I don’t want bed and you. I want somebody else. So fuck off and leave me alone.” She’d royally cussed him out and he’d almost gotten tired of her bullshit when she reached for the empty bottle of the table and began sadly scrutinising the few drops inside. After gulping them down, she decided it would be best to sit down and Levi, in turn, concluded he wouldn’t get his peace of mind if he didn’t force her into her room.

“I’m not leaving you alone because you’ll get hurt. Now come along.” He grabbed her arm and forced her off her ass, to which she frantically tried to shake his hold in vain. Once they were face to face, he felt she might just spit at him with how angry she looked and all.

“I tol’ you not to touch me!” She was hitting him across the chest and he was rolling his eyes at her antics - though he had no idea why she was acting like this now. He hadn’t seen her this drunk anyway. Hanji and Nanaba always took care of her when she was. And they always shared weird looks the morning after.

“You’re usually the one touching me.” His comment made her expression contort in confusion, like the idea of physical touch existing between them was unfathomable to her brain.

“Who? Me? Excuse you, I don’t---” She hiccuped and he was pulling her along - and he, very briefly thought that cute. “I touch only Levi. Because I like him.” His brows furrowed - this was a sudden confession, but so had been the first one. He was well aware (Y/N) held romantic feelings for him and she was well aware he returned them, except, he hadn’t reacted well to the idea of a relationship and they’d kept it down to being close friends instead.

“I like you too.” It was blurted out and composed, just a bit exasperated. She wasn’t telling him anything new but he was curious as to what had even made her do it tonight. And he thought, ever so optimistically, she might just not remember him saying it back the next morning - as he’d never worded it this straightforwardly.

“Why are you sayin’ ‘ too’? I’m not confessing to you and I don’t like you, I like Levi Ackerman, as in Humanity’s Strongest Soldier, as in the fucking love of my life.” She was tugging him back, or at least trying to since it wasn’t working and he kept dragging her down the hallway to the stairs. Her words were what made him halt. He was holding her and she’d told him he was the love of her life - now that was new - and she was talking like... he was a stranger.

“So who am I again?” His inquiry made her brows furrow, she snorted and hiccuped once more - he forced himself not to be distracted by that and the annoyingly cute way in which her nose was scrunched up in disgruntlement.

“From where the hell should I know? You’re a shady guy who keeps touching me and trying to get me in bed. Sorry, bud, not workin’. The only guy I’ll be beddin’ isn’t here right now.” She tugged on his arm once more, then he suggested that they went to him instead and she was quite pleased to hear that. “Or I could go m’self.” Her suggestion was followed by a sneeze, then she was rubbing her arm after he’d let go of it with a condescending look on his face. “You might not be aware but Levi’s tol’ me he likes me too and if he sees you tryin’ to abduct me he might just get angry and kick your face off.”

“I’d like to see that happen.” He was almost smirking at the index finger she was pointing in his direction, almost about to jab straight into his chest. She was frowning, ever so mighty whilst declaring that he - the man standing before her - would come along and beat himself up because she was so fucking wasted she couldn’t recognise him. Talk about disconnection between brain and body.

“If you don’t keep your han’s off me, it might. I’ll just call for him. He’ll beat you to a pulp.” Her arms were crossed in front of her chest and she was pouting now, mad but not that much and he was watching her recklessly trip on her way up the stairs. He gave her twenty minutes and made bets on whether she’d reach his room at all or not and lost when she was seen nowhere along the hallway passed out or whining.

She was snoring on his bed already and he took his time discarding her jacket and boots, then his own prior to entering his office and getting to work with one of the reports he had to write. It took him three hours to finally yawn, he joined (Y/N) on the bed and just barely rolled his eyes when she turned over in her sleep and began mumbling his name.

The morning after he woke up first and decided to enlighten her on the topic of what she’d done last night and why she’d woken up in his bed during breakfast. She went so red in the face it looked painful and Hanji, overhearing their conversation began laughing so hard she choked. Needless to say, (Y/N) gave up alcohol for a while and Levi made it a point to remind her why every time he caught her glancing longingly at the cellar. Not that he minded a confession from her once in a while, or those cute hiccups, or the simultaneous annoyance and amusement he felt at her inability to recognise him.

#levi x reader #levi ackerman fanfiction #reader insert #drabbles for anonies #kind of shit and kind of cringe but i guess it's the cliche people love so here you go #i could think of nothing else #also not exactly crack but idk #i'll leave that up to you to decide

84 notes · View notes

stargazer-balladeer · 4 years

Note

Can I request persona leaders comforting an s/o dealing with toxic parents? My parents have kind of been destroying mental health recently.

S/o with Toxic Parents [Persona Leaders]

Characters Included: Akira Kurusu, Yu Narukami, Minato Arisato & Minako Arisato

Note: I’m so sorry to hear that 😞 If you need someone to talk to, I’m here. Hope you’ll like this!

Reader’s Gender: Neutral

Warnings: Mentions of toxic parents, verbal and physical abuse.

Akira Kurusu

— Akira would be so furious when he finds out that you have that kind of parents. He might not have the same hatred as Ryuji when it comes to adults, but he hates that kind of people who degrades other people, especially their children.

— Akira will help you, no doubt about it. He might also change their heart (whether you know it or not)! When your parents get arrested, he will beg Sojiro (I forgot this dude’s name and had to google it LMAO) to make you stay with him. Sojiro relents (with a condition of course, no nasty things 😒).

— Even though you don’t want to, Akira would force you to live with him. When you two started living together, he’ll spoil you with affection and love. He isn’t ashamed in declaring his love for you.

— Akira would have a sad and angry look on his eyes whenever you flinch. Sad that throughout your life, your parents have been abusing you. And angry that he should’ve been here earlier to save you.

— Akira might not be a therapist but he can try to be one. Just tell him everything and he won’t judge. When you start to cry, he’ll pull you in for a hug.

“Shh.. it’s okay. I’m here.” The warmth and cozy feeling of Akira’s embrace is enough to send another wave of tears. You tightly clench the back of his shirt as you sob in his chest. The moon was out as some of the light pass through the attic’s window.

Akira didn’t mind that you were staining his shirt at all. He wants you to let it all out. His brows knitted together once more when his thoughts went to your parents. Oh how he wanted to make them pay for what they’ve done to you.

“That’s it.. let it all out.” How your agony cries make his heart twist painfully in his chest. Like a knife repeatedly stabbing him. He wants to clear all of your awful thoughts. To get rid of the pain your parents brought to you. But he couldn’t. All he could do now is hold you in his embrace as he waits for you to stop.

Yu Narukami

— Yu is actually shock when he finds out about your background, then his face morph into a deadly murderous glare. Which makes the whole Investigation Team afraid of him. This is afterall their first time seeing Yu angry— no, furious.

—“P-Partner! Calm down—!” “Where are they?” “Meep—“

— Yu would immediately bring you into a warm hug when he finds you. He craddles your head behind the back as he whispers sweet nothings in your ears.

— Yu would immediately tell Dojima about what’s happening in your family. Even though you don’t want to, Yu couldn’t bear to see you suffer anymore. After they get arrested, Yu would also ask Dojima if you can move in with them. (Dojima saying yes bc he pities you too)

— Yu would immediately worry if you disappeared, his mind would be fill with endless worry because of the fact that your shadow counterpart can appear in the TV world. If it’s not, then Yu would be so grateful and pamper you with love. But if it is, Yu is already ready to take on your Shadow.

— Yu would do everything to cheer you up. When I mean by everything, everything. This boi would move heaven and earth for you. All he wants is to get rid of your painful thoughts.

“Hey, darling. Where are you?” You can hear Yu calling for you downstairs, but you couldn’t answer. You hiccup pathetically as you press your hand harder to cover your mouth, muffling your cries. You could hear your parents words still, as if they were still here. Still taunting you about how pathetic you are.

“You pathetic, good-for-nothing child! Why the hell are you crying?!” Tears were still pouring out of your eyes as the voice of your mother ring in your ears. “You’re just a bitch, why did we receive such a useless child.” Your whimper grew louder when the laughter of your father resonated through your head.

Your eyes snapped open when you felt someone near you. You bit your lower lip as you closed your eye, anticipating for the abuse. You flinch when you felt someone removing the duvet you’re under and touching you. The person quickly withdrew their hand.

You didn’t dare to open your eyes, fearing that both of your parents came back to get you. The fear crawling through your veins as you whimper a bit. You felt someone tenderly running a hand through your hair. “Shh.. it’s okay.”

You recognized the voice. You slowly opened your eyes to meet your boyfriend’s gentle and reassuring face. He was sitting on the side with his hand running through your hair. No words needed, you quickly crawl towards him, seeking his comfort. Yu immediately welcome you to his embrace.

He pets your head as you sob in his neck. His eyes glazed with tears as well as his hug tighten. “It’s okay.. their not coming back. I promise.”

Minato Arisato

— This would be the first time that the group will ever see their leader showing his emotion. Minato’s emotion is actually spiralling, he doesn’t know what to feel when he heard about your.. condition at home. His face contorts quickly from shock, angry, sad, concern and worry.

— Minato doesn’t immediately pull you into a hug, but he does open his arms for you. He’ll hug you tightly when you rush to his embrace. He doesn’t need to say anything as he nuzzle his face to your neck.

— Even though Minato doesn’t want you to be there anymore, he doesn’t have a choice. If the police takes away your parents, then where will you go? Will you also have a similar fate to him? He doesn’t want you to be an orphan just like him.

— But, even though Minato can’t bring justice to your parents just yet (lol. wrong game), he would make you move in to the Dormitory. So that he can take care of you and make sure you are far away from your toxic parents.

— Minato would glare at anyone who’ll make mean comments (Yukari 😒) or make you uncomfortable (Junpei 😒). Everyone by now knows not to mess with their leader’s s/o.

— Minato might not be affectionate but he’ll try. But, one thing is sure, he’ll always have time for you. Even though he’s tired from Tartarus, school, and Confidant rising, he’ll make time for you.

— Minato will also dote on you like the rest of the leaders. He will give you small gifts and trinkets, give you food and share his earphones with you. Even though he can’t erase all of the traumatic experience your parents gave to you, he’ll be damned that he’s trying his best.

— Minato understands if you need some alone time. And he would be so surprised whenever you flinch. He doesn’t bring it up but you can see the pain in his eyes whenever he sees you flinch.

“Can.. I come in?” Minato’s voice rang through the room. You didn’t have the energy to move from your bed, nor can you find your voice to call to him. You just feel.. nothing. Useless just like what your parents say.

You’ve already shed all of your tears, nothing is left anymore to shed as you laid motionless. Your eyes never left the ceiling, even when the door opened and closed. You could hear him walking towards you. Your eyes flickered to him before returning to the ceiling.

“Move.” Minato said, more like commanded, but he said that quietly and so gentle. You did what you were told as you roll to the side. You could feel your bed dipping slightly when Minato sat and laid down.

He made you face him as you stare at his blue-oceanic eyes. His eyes were usually cold and emotionless, but now, they were filled with admiration and sadness. He carefully place an arm around you, probably testing if you’re gonna push him away or not.

You didn’t do anything, so he took this as a sign to hug you. Your face was on the crook of his neck as you could feel his fingers running through your hair. Even though Minato isn’t talking, you could feel your eyes prickling with tears again.

Minato only held you close as you cried in his neck. He doesn’t need words afterall to express his concern to you..

Minako Arisato

— Minako might already have an idea on what’s going on with you. But that doesn’t change the fact that she’s very sad about the fact that you have that kind of parents. She might be angry, yes. But she’s more concern and worry about you than them.

— Minako would hold your hands first before hugging you. She wants to make sure you’re okay first before hugging you. Afterall, you’re wellbeing is much more important than hers.

— Like Minato, she doesn’t have any power against your parents. As much as she wants them gone (believe me, she does), she doesn’t want you to be an orphan just like her. So she makes you move in with her in the Dormitory.

— As much as Minako wants to share a room with you, she respects your privacy. But she will make sure that you’re room is next to hers so that when you need her, she’ll be immediately be there.

— Minako would dote on you like usual, except with much more love. But she wouldn’t overwhelm you! She extremely loves you and doesn’t like seeing you unhappy.

— Even though Minako can’t change what happened, she can change what happens in the future. She would make sure that nothing bad would happen to you again. Even if it means escaping the country so that you wouldn’t go back to your family.

— Whenever you flinch when she tries to hold you, she quickly retracts her hand and ask you if you’re okay.

“Thank you so much, Minako..” Minako hums as you two cuddle in bed. It was already the late of night, and you had a nightmare. Minako immediately came to your room and calmed you down. “Why’re you thank me for?”

“You know,, for.. helping me escape from my parents.” She knew that you were having a hard time coping ever since you move in with them in the Dormitory. Especially since your parents practically drill all those nasty things about you in your head. Minako just embraces you tighter and nuzzle her head on top of your head.

“What’re partners for?” She giggles as you weakly chuckle. Minako might not know what the future will hold, but if she has to choice, she’ll spend the rest of her life with you. Trying to make you happy and make up for the unhappy times.

[x] Main Page || [x] Persona 5 Page || [x] Persona 4 Page || [x] Persona 3 Page

259 notes · View notes

latibulesims · 3 years

Note

Hey Lati!

I’m so sorry to press you for more information, but I’m so fascinated by your filming process and I have some additional questions if that’s okay. Specifically around your sets that are just individual rooms, are these just multiple secular room sets on one lot, or do you use a different lot for each set? Like with the River’s house when any family member is coming downstairs, is Tresor or Raign’s room not on that lot? The living room and kitchen? Lol I’m just so fascinated by this if that’s the case, and if so it’s extremely impressive because they look like they all could actually be one complete set. Sorry if this makes zero sense, I’ve just never thought to try this and now I really want to! ☺️ Thanks so much!

Haha no you make total sense!! First of all thank you for watching my series, and don't worry at all about asking questions! I know filming with The Sims 2 can be difficult bc of how often it crashes and its loading time, so any tips I can give to help the game crash less, im happy to share 💖

The sets are actually on different lots entirely! So, when Tresor "comes downstairs", or the characters go from the living room to the kitchen, I load an entirely new lot! I think the only exception I make is with bathrooms because they're so tiny haha, but any time you see the characters going from one room to the other, it's usually a different lot all together. :')

It may sound exhausting to some, having to jump from one lot to another, but over the years (I've been doing this since 2017, at least!) I've managed some tips that help, for those that are interested:

1) I make multiple sims of the same character, so that every sim belongs to every lot! So, if Tresor for example needs to be in her bedroom, the living room and Simons bar within the same episode, I create 3 Tresors (TresorBED, TresorLIVING, TresorBAR), and that way I don't have to move her around.

I should also note that I change neighborhoods every episode (more on that in tip #3), so it might sound like a lot of sims over the episodes but really it's usually just 3 versions of the same character in one neighborhood at a time.

You might find it's easier to just move the sims from one lot to the other, but in my experience moving the sims around (or using the tombstone to extract them) always ends up crashing my game so this is a really good way to avoid it all together!

2) I don't film chronologically, but by sets! This is my #1 tip. I basically gather up all the scenes I have in 1 set and I film them. That way i dont have to go back and forth between lots, instead I just finish off all the scenes I need using a lot and move on to the next! Sometimes a set has so many scenes I end up filming in one set for weeks at a time (usually Simons bar, haha, that S2E1 Christmas episode needed like 3 sets (Simons bar, Simons living room, The Rivers living room), and I spent two months just filming in Simons bar).

The only time I won't recommend this, is when you havent yet found your own style. Then you might risk something like this happening: You're just starting to film, and you have the 1st and last scene in the episode in the same set. So, you film them both. Then you film a couple more scenes after that, and then you reach the final set and by then your filming skills have changed (if you haven't found your style and take months filming an episode - which is completely valid, BTW - this could mean a drastic change). Then, scene #1 (which you filmed at the very beginning) could have a completely different filming style than scene #2 (which you filmed at the very end), and so on. You wouldn't want that.

I had something like that happen to me, where I discovered reshade mid-filming an episode, so the scenes I filmed at the beginning of the episode didnt have it, and then the scenes I filmed at the end did it. It made the epsiode look incosistent, which is something I don't really care about (and neither do my viewers, really), but you might so letting you know as a heads up! Some of these tips do compromise the "professionalism" of the episodes, but it's how i manage to film and pop out episodes with (relative) quickness :').

Thats why for many reasons, including should you want to film by set instead of chronologically, I suggest you find your style before filming an episode or starting a series all together. This can be done through creating small machinimas, filming tests, music videos, etc. Take it from someone who can't even handle sitting through the first 8 episodes of my own series because of how much my style back then. The way it drastically changed from one episode to another irks me so much! 😅

3) And this is my most controversial one, LOL, but I always build sets + new neighborhoods from scratch with every episode. As I mentioned above, I change neighborhoods with every episode because, in my experience, neighborhoods get corrupt with time so starting with a fresh neighborhood every episode helps avoid crashing. Previously, neighborhoods would get so corrupt, they'd stop loading at all mid-filming an episode, so im forced to interrupt my filming streak and build the sets and characters all together which absolutely wrecks any motivation I have to film afterwards. Once, this happened mid-filming a scene and so I had to rebuild, and let me tell you: Theres a difference between sets looking a bit different because I had to rebuild between episodes, and sets looking different within the same scene. At least when you rebuild the set with every new episode, you can blame minor changes on the fact that time passed from one episode to the other.

Also: I make sure to build all the sets I need for the episode before I start filming, because I dont want anything to interrupt my filming once I start it. If Im forced to build when I'm motivated to film, I end up losing that motivation in the time I spend building, if that makes sense. As u probably already know as a machinima maker, we do the work that is usually required of a team (writer, director, editor, and also stylist and set designers), so I like to do things one at a time so I can have a clear understanding of my schedule and timetable. So, I dedicate 2 days to style all the sims, a week or so to build all the sets, usually months to film the episode, then another week to edit and audio edit. I try my best not to have all of those parts overlapping, otherwise it gets too overwhelming.

The reason I rebuild from scratch, as opposed to just extracting the lot and installing it in a new neighborhood is because, again, I prefer a fresh start and have found that lots are less likely to get corrupt if they're "new". A lot of people think im crazy for it LOL, or that it's a colossal waste of time, and maybe it is! But it's the process that works best for me, and I end up filming really fast with much less crashing and hiccups because of it!

Hope that helps!!! :') Let me know if you have any other questions about my filming process or any other tips 💖💖💖 I'd love to help!

#latips #ask lati #the sims 2

8 notes · View notes

n-anon · 3 years

Text

Fallout (Chapter 1)

Disclaimer: I don’t know how long this will be yet in terms of chapters, BUT THIS IS A SEQUEL SERIES. If you’re planning to read this, Please read My multi-chapter series of Ready Aim Fire, this will have spoilers to that! I’m linking it down below just so y’all can do so.

Ready Aim Fire Chapters: 1 2 3 4 5

Okay done? All good? Then lets go.

Description: And as the ashes settle, everyone tries to return to what’s normal....And what’s left.

(TW: mentions of death, burning, and self-blame)

“Its been two weeks. His funerals on Tuesday. Are you coming?” Marvin stared at his hands. Still imagining the fire as it leaked through is fingers, he sighed, staring up at Schneep. “....Yeah. Of course.” Schneep nodded, jotting it down, he then set down the notepad, and grabbed the cup of coffee, drinking from it eagerly, “Okay. Now talk to me.” Marvin scowled, “I-I can’t. You know that.” Schneep hummed, “Can’t? Or Won’t? Jackie told me you will hardly speak to him. Hell, you can’t even look JJ in the eye. You did what you needed. It doesn’t make it any easier, yes. But locking yourself up for it in your own little mind prison and not talking is going to make it worse.” Marvin grit his teeth, the urge to just-burst out. Let it all burn.....let it go. He couldn’t. Not now. “Also. Jackie says the police need an account, they want it to go well with the public....That you didn’t mean to burn it down.” Marvin opened his mouth angrily, but Schneep cut him off, “I know you meant to burn it down, we all do. But ze people don’t. They want assurances that as Jackie’s new sidekick you weren’t trying to burn it down. That’s what their calling you by the way.”

Marvin snorted. He was hardly a sidekick. He was the whole damn show...but the show was a mess. He nodded silently, “Can I go now?” Schneep sighed, then took another sip from his coffee, “Yes. Again, if you ever need to talk....well-You know.” the Magician nodded and with that he stormed out, unintentionally slamming the door as Schneep winced, and turned back to his work. He grabbed his pencil and began working, yet again. Of course, Marvin wasn’t the only one going through something right now...they were all suffering. The pieces were on the floor, and he didn’t know who was going to pick them up. Not without.....Nein. They would make it. It would be hard.....But they had to. His phone rang and he answered. “Dr. Schneeplestein’s office, how can I help you today?”

JJ stood at the pier, staring at the spot. His fists were clenched, remnants...ashes. That’s all it was now. No heartbeat. Nothing he could do. The blaring yellow of the caution tape surrounding what little was left of them....He was happy. Sad.....All mixtures of emotions he couldn’t express out loud. He thought that when he died...It would return. That he could finally....But that was a dream, a false hope that kept him going. And now? All that was left was just the rubble. He felt the hand on his shoulder and the familiar steps. “Jameson? If you’re not ready we can-” He shook his head, and walked forward, glancing at the crumbled warehouse, “I just want to make sure there are no weird temporal differences...is all. They still found the knife, like you-made....them do. I’m just...worried, call it double checking.” Jackie told him that afternoon, JJ was eager to at least get out of the house, seeing boxes piled up near his door was too much to bare. If he was just stronger-No. They would’ve eventually found out. At least, that’s what he told himself. Jackie motions to the security guards, he had told them that JJ was a private investigator friend, he just wanted to double check, what little the police force knew of Anti-before...this, wasn’t much, but they understood he was dangerous, and could probably kill everyone in town if he wasn’t actually dead. He walked, looking around, what was left of the body of Chase had been removed. He sighed, closing his eyes as tears came up, he couldn’t think of that right now. He had to focus. He reached out for anything. Any sign, looking at his wrists he remembered the connection that was there before everything went wrong. Nothing. Not even a yoink. He turned to Jackie, and shook his head. Jackie seemed to relax, as he patted JJ on the shoulder, and the man left in a daze, he needed to get out. To breathe. Jackie stayed behind to talk to the cops, as he made the long journey home.

Stacy Brody wasn’t sure if she should be relieved or just dying inside, but she cried anyway. Finding out that Chase did none of the things he thought he did, Jackie’s final explanation filled with words of vitriol and persuasion, her mind swam as she tried to wrap her mind around it all, but one thing was clear. Chase had died a hero. And she was going to do what little she could to make sure he had a funeral like one. “Mommy?” She turned to see their-her youngest son, still wearing that hat Chase gave him, he looked so much like-She wiped the tears from her eyes and turned off the sink, “What’s wrong?” She asked, turning to him and pulling on her best smile, “Nothing, honey. Just remembering your dad.” The boys expression grew muted, sad, quiet, “Oh.” She had surmised he would know what was happening soon enough anyway, and what kind of mother would she be if she kept that from them? They deserved to know what happened...what kind of person their dad was, before they started forgetting, anyway. “Is...Are Uncle Jackie and the rest gonna be at the funeral?” Her son asked in a quiet voice, “Of course honey, they’ve assured me they’ll make it.” She knew the kids all loved their adoptive ‘Uncles’ “Now, where’s your sister?” The boy crossed his arms, “She’s still in her room.” Stacy sighed, “Okay. I’ll go talk to her, its time for both of you to get to bed anyway. Its late.” The boy pouted, “But mom-” Stacy walked up and picked him up, he was just 8, and she was tired. “C’mon, help me go get your sister to bed, alright, Grayson? You gotta be strong for mommy. If you go to bed early we can read that story about sharks you love so much.” Her sons eyes lit up and she smiled softly, as he ranted on about sharks, she closed her eyes, we’ll be fine. I think.

‘Oh, so you’re new? Welcome to the group chat! You got a name or nickname you use?’

‘You can just call me Blip for the moment, I usually go by that lol. Sorry to hear about your dad D: that really sucks. If you need someone to talk to, I’m here. We all are, I think. Anyway yeah I know we’ve just met but hey, if you need someone to talk to...’

‘Absolutely! We’ll help you in anyway, if you need anything, we’ll be here for ya Oli.’

‘Thanks guys... I might honestly just take a quick break from....everything, ya know?’

‘Understandable, take all the time you need!’

‘Yeah. I think I can figure out how this place works before too long :P’

Oli laughed at the comment, and smiled, she was glad her friends understood that, she let out a hiccup and wiped the tears from her eyes. She just didn’t know what to think right now, Everyone online was saying it was an accident. She wasn’t stupid. She knew Uncle Marvin had something to do with it, and the funeral was the best place to confront him about it, they needed to know the truth, if not for her for Grayson...at least. She sighed as a knock on the door came, and she exited the chat without much of a goodbye, and laid in bed, “Olivia honey, are you awake?” Her mothers voice creeped through, she let out a very fake snore, hoping she’d take the hint as her mother sighed, “Okay...Love you honey.” She heard the door close as she just buried her face in the pillow, and eventually she fell asleep for real, dreaming of fire.

(A/N: THIS IS A LONG BOI. Also sorry for this very sudden, very out of nowhere sequel series, @rogue-of-broken-time’s post about posting fics we never thought we would make really got me thinking, and eventually thinking got me to go like ‘lol what if I wrote a sequel series based in this uni about the aftermath. And yes the sons name is Grayson cuz haha references, and if you get that reference, you get a gold star. Hope you enjoyed, and as for how long this series is gonna be-Uh...No idea lol We’ll see. This is just mostly set-up. If you want to be added to the tag list, as always, send me a DM, comment below, or ask, and I’ll get right on it!)

Tag List: @segernatural @pyranoia @caithesavage777 @vwoop-prince @antis-gauge @heely-um @therealtiger77 @a-bnana @randowaffle @sharkyg @miishae @innocent-angel3 @darcywillfindyou @asexualerror

#N writes #jacksepticeye #antisepticeye #chase brody #stacy brody #jse community #writers of jack #marvin the magnificent #jackieboy man #henrik von schneeplestein #dr. schneeplestein #jameson jackson #jj

17 notes · View notes

sweetestlamb · 4 years

Text

Stronger Part 4 (A New Day Has Come)

Summary: Mun-yeong spends some time with someone important and a gets a surprise.

Author's Note: Got an annoying comment on this story yesterday and it motivated me to write lol so thanks! Hope you guys like and comments, that motivate me even more 😉🥰 nothing like love to drive out hate! The story is coming to an end unfortunately, I'm thinking 2 more chapters maybe three. If I had time I would drag it out for 9 😂😂 but schools start Monday so there goes my life. Happy reading y'all.

Solitude gripes at her insanity, tearing her apart until she succumbs to the thoughts that plague her mind of her inadequacies and how insignificant she is to those around her.

Being around Sang-tae oppa fills a portion of the void in your chest but his presence only reminds her further of another that she's dreadfully missing, his messages overflow her phone now. Taking a swift turn from condescending to something sweeter and more pleading. It takes every ounce of restraint in her body not to open them, relying on the bits she can see in the previews. Fully turning a blind eye to him is beyond difficult for her, every atom of her being is calling out for him.

She has dragged herself from the car too many times, desperate to run to him and soothe his pain, eager to see what he wants to talk about, maybe just maybe he's ready to apologize and unclench the clamp he placed on her heart that day on the beach.

But.

What if he isn't? What if he wants to share more of his past with her in the hopes that she'll overlook all that came before. In the past that might have been the case, she had been ever forgiving, something that only he was privy to. But his words ring in her ears- one time event, get lost- invading her dreams and taking the place of her mother's floating figure terrorizing her nightly.

Somewhere along the way she realized that she puts him first, his emotions and comfort have taken precedent over her own and when she'd searched what exactly that meant the answer made her head spin.

A four letter word that most humans will experience except Ko Mun-yeong.

She's much too selfish and destructive to be ever love or be loved by another, she knows that know. When he'd finally opened up to her, there'd been a plethora of emotions that clawed to the surface and vengeance had been one of them, it wasn't enough that he was sharing his darkest secrets because of everything she'd been through to get there. It was as if he'd stabbed her in the chest, left her bleeding only to return and patch up her wounds, too much had occurred and the scarring remained.

So she left in the middle of the night, abandoned that godforsaken place, stuffing expensive fabrics in a vintage Louis Vuitton luggage set, eager to escape the dead silence that rang out in the castle without the Moon brothers pumping life back into it.

In the end she didn't go far, finding a guest house that reminded her of that brief getaway with him, she paid for the week and turned off her phone fielding persistent check in calls from Sang-in. Gang-tae hadn't tried to call merely texting that they should talk and it was almost laughable that despite his seeming desperation he still seemed reluctant to go the full mile. Only her deep rooted sadness stopped her from chuckling at her circumstances, what a tragic mess.

She didn't let his current persistence fool her, fool me once shame on you fool me twice, well everyone knew the rest. It was time she stopped looking like a fool. Regardless of what she felt for him she knew that that this couldn't be, he'd been right all along.

I hope I never see you again.

So much heart ache could have been prevented if she'd heeded his warning. So she was doing it now, her anger had fizzled off tempering into bitter acceptance.

He would give up soon enough, that was his style.

The woman in charge of the guest house steers clear of her and the first day she lays carelessly on the bed roll, not even bothering to comb her hair. Simply, being. It's intoxicating and new, her phone remains turned off tossed to the side as she thinks about nothing- ignoring the way that nothing something has deep sad eyes and a bowl hair cut. She's trying to think about nothing and that's what counts.

She has food delivered and it's strange to eat something that isn't a Subway sandwich after all the food Sang-in as been bringing her and temporarily guilt forms in the pit of her belly, he's probably going crazy trying to locate her but she's just not ready. She's still tired. Bone chilling fatigue.

The next day she walks down a dirt road, her long white dress dragging on the ground, dirtied but the thin material allows a passing breeze to wash across her body and she's content, staring at the sky and thinking of nothing. She spots a lone bird sitting in a tree and wonders if all the other birds have left it behind, whether it has nowhere to go and no one to see. Then she berates herself for worrying about a bird, all this time alone is pushing the limits of her sanity.

The days bleed into each other, dawn folding into dusk with watercolor skies and earthy morning dew.

She tries to write but it's hard to get any words down that aren't depressing and she can't think of any morals or lessons besides don't let anyone in.

Then she tries her hand at drawing, a portrait of her twisting a deer's neck.

The guest house keeper asks her if she hates bears the next day and that's the end of that endeavor.

The week is coming to an end and she's no where closer to knowing what to do, maybe it's time to go back to Seoul, leave this all behind like a bad dream.

When she finally deems herself mentally prepared she turns on her phone, pinging and vibrating from all the forlorn messages, sputtering in her hand as she watches in shock. As expected Sang-in has called and messaged and threatened, she smirks at his empty threats, heart slightly warmed.

Ju-ri, Seung-jae, Sang-tae, and him. All their names flash on her screen. Surprising her, as she'd never expect them to notice her disappearance. Much less reach out to her. Strange. But she writes it off, maybe Sang-in had roped them all into it. With trepidation she opens her messenger and responds to one, keeping a promise, with a few presses and a selfie she sends the message and closes the phone with a sigh.

Done.

The next day the clouds are smoggy ash grey in the sky, darkening the skies into something fierce and she pulls on a sweater and forgoes an umbrella welcoming the storm. Electricity swelters in the thick air causing a sheen of sticky perspiration to cling to her skin. She dons a simple sleeveless mini dress and sandals, trekking to the familiar dirt road.

She walks for hours, aimlessly without a care or worry in her head. Thoughts of him still push their way in at times but she's come to accept that as her baseline, once she returns to Seoul he will be nothing but a faint memory of the time she dreamed too big.

The first drop of rain on her skin makes goose pimples explode across her flesh, fat and chilled as they cascade from the atmosphere. Turning her head up towards the heavens she grins bitterly at nothing, her whole life has been nothing but rain, the moment is oddly fitting.

Mud splatters to her feet coating her toes in sloshy brown that slides between her toes, drenched from the downpour she slowly walks back no haste in her movement, steady footsteps despite the speed of the rain as it pelts against her.

The guest house comes back into sight as she meanders to the gate, vaguely remembering that she'd pulled it shut yet the doors now swing open. Blaming that on the rain she steps through, pulling it shut behind her continuing to stride to the steps.

As she hears the sliding door she eyes catch a figure blurry through the watery sheet in front of her eyes, the voice calling her name stops her in her tracks, no longer able to pretend that it's a mirage.

Her eyes aren't deceiving her, there he is. Once again finding her in the rain, except this time she doesn't need to be saved, she'll be the one doing the saving. For them both.

She takes him in, the rain soaking his hair flat onto his face, clothes plastered to his body as he stands eerily still, dark pools intensely taking her in as well.

After the slight hiccup, she continues walking taking off her sullied sandals and tossing them to the side and then she places her hand on the door, prepared to enter and forget what she saw. Ignorance is bliss.

"Mun-yeong."

All he has to say to get her heart pounding like a drum, she screams in her mind. That time spent apart should have made this easier, why didn't this feel easy? All the fatigue that she'd been running from hits her like a freight train crashing through her passive wall.

"Get lost."

He moves to block her way and her rage simmers below the surface.

"I've been worried about you. We all were so worried. You can't just leave like that, why did you go without saying anything?" His voice is wavering between anger and something softer, more human that makes his voice crack on the last syllable.

"Move."

She's not ready to assess what his being here means, what his voice and his concern mean. None of it makes sense and she's going to file it all under: unexplained phenomenon.

"Can't we talk first, please?"

"I don't want to talk." She sidesteps him, reaching once more for the door.

"Mun-yeong let me explain, let me make this right. I'm sor--"

"Shut up. I said I didn't want to talk. Go back you saw me, I'm alive you don't need to say anything more."

She's not sure she'll be able to contain herself if he says anything else, she's already dangling off the cliff. She can't allow herself to fall and burst apart.

"No! Why are you pushing me away? I need you! I told you I needed you I meant that, you can't just run away damn it."!

She stares blankly before her throat croaks and laughter tumbles from her lips. Deep belly chuckles that shake her body viciously.

Then quick as a switch the laughter stops.

Diamond hard gaze locked on his bewildered face before she speaks, "You think you're the only one who wanted? Do you? I wanted you to stay. I wanted you to fight for me, to let me in. I wanted you to see that I was hurt and apologize and mean it. You think a kiss is enough, you think telling me everything is enough after you break my heart? It's not!" Her voice pierces through the cacophonous drone of the rain beating the world, crying its heart out.

He jolts at her pained cries, fingers reaching for her but she immediately moves out of reach feeling naked and raw under his stare.

You broke my heart.

She's shown too much of her cards already, it's too late to bluff.

So she'll take a page from his book.

Throwing the door open and slamming it shut, holding it tight.

He doesn't try to open it. She sighs in relief leaning back against the hard wood, feeling all the fight evacuate her body.

He's probably gone. You pushed him too hard. Who are you to reject him? No one else will ever tolerate you.

Her thoughts don't scare her, just like Gang-tae had chosen his brother and the life he knew she was doing the same, choosing herself and the loneliness she'd grown accustomed to. Why give him another chance to throw her away he was clearly capable of it, it was only a matter of time she wouldn't change. Couldn't change. Immovable object.

The rain falls and falls, washing everything away and making the world anew. She lays on her back wondering how far he's gotten in this downpour. How had he even found her? All questions she'll never get the answers to.

Sleep tugs her eyelids shut as her thoughts swirl until they too fade to black.

Hands held high over her head, she pulls her tired bones feeling the tension melt with each stretch. Gathering clothes to take a much needed bath she carelessly tugs the door open only to jump back when he almost tumbles into her room.

What.

"What? What are you doing here?" She shrieks, avoiding collision by the barest inch.

"Waiting for you."

She blinks at him, taking in his drenched clothes-noting his shivers- and the dark circles that sink into the skin beneath his eyes, resembling a raccoon.

Had he slept outside all night? And if he had was he insane, why didn't he go back home?

"Why didn't you go back? Are you crazy? You can't sleep outside in the rain!"

She blushes at her outburst, slapping a hand over her traitorous mouth. He merely looks at her, she overlooks the tender glint in his eyes.

Stepping forward he grabs her hand, she fights to pull her appendage away but he tightens his grip which contrasts immensely with the softness in his eyes.

Voice like warm honey he answers, "Because you're here and I.....need you. I'm not going anywhere."

The sun shines brightly outside as a new day rises somewhere in the distance a lone bird's call is answered by another.

#psycho but it's okay #its okay to not be okay #its okay to not be okay fic #ko mun yeong #moon gang tae #it's okay to not be okay #seo ye ji #kim soo hyun #I love rain #cackled thinking about that deer

101 notes · View notes

shreddedparchment · 5 years

Text

Pseudo Princess Pt.18

A Step Forward

11/27/2019

Pairing: King!Steve x Reader Word Count: 6,213

Warnings: angst, fluff, language, jealousy

A/N: This one is a lot of dialogue. I mean, most of my chapters are but this one especially. Hopefully this sheds some light on what happened. These two still have a lot of work to do and hopefully this is the last big hiccup they have. Maybe? Who knows?!! lol Anyway, I hope you enjoy this chapter. I really like writing these two together after so much time of them being at odds. If you happen to reblog, thanks for helping me spread my work! xoxo

TAGS FOR THIS STORY ARE CLOSED!

Steve is teetering upon the edge of slumber. His mind is racing, replaying the moment he'd messed the night up over and over.

You’re smiling at him. Happy. Happier than he's ever made you and then he steps in it. He tells the entire Great Hall about your problems and he doesn’t know why he just can’t stop talking.

He knows that he should. He knows that he needs to stop but staring at you, cherishing the brightness in your eyes—the love he thought he’d driven out of you—it all just comes spilling out.

He wants them to know that he doesn’t deserve you. That you’re amazing and kind and sweet and gentle and regal and forgiving and desirable and you’re his!

Somehow after everything, you’re his. Still.

He tries to play off your anger and it does lighten the mood in the room. Everyone seems to settle, and they don’t take it all as seriously as they probably should.

He can see you softening, that small hint of hope slips out and that little bead in your belly is not only the kingdom’s future but both your futures. Proof of the good that the two of you can create and somehow, you’ve allowed him to be blessed.

The body he'd ravaged cruelly, you turned his weakness into strength. You’re growing his baby. Both your baby. Precious. How can the baby not be when they’ll be half of you?

It spills out of him before he can stop it and he sees the rage in you return.

Then the two of you fight in your room and he says all the wrong things. Things he doesn’t mean. Things that slip from his stupid privileged tongue that he can’t take back.

Sarah Rogers would be disappointed in him. He knows it.

Like an idiot, he leaves you. He stops in his room and squeezes his hands into fists. He punches the wall by the door, and it cracks and crumbles.

“Fuck.” He sighs, defeated.

Why does he always mess up with you? He'll fix it in the morning. Because even if he went to you now, you’d never let him in. You’d want your space.

You said it too. “Alone.” He groans.

How long has he been laying here? Unable to sleep? You’re all he can think of. How he might be able to fix this. Again.

Always there seems to be something to fix because he breaks it. He breaks you.

Maybe you’d really be better off with someone else? Maybe leaving is what’s best for you?

These thoughts swirl around his mind as he keeps his eyes shut and urges himself to sleep.

Even after an entire afternoon spent sleeping in your arms, he’s exhausted. His mind makes no sense, jumping from one thought to the next.

Knowing that you could never really leave him makes him restless. Out of obligation you’ll stay by his side. Before that might have been enough, but now he wants all of you.

If it hurts you or if it makes you unhappy, he'd rather you go and be at peace. But then…he'd he alone again. Not just that, but he wouldn’t have you here. Brightening his days with your sweet smile.

What have I trapped her in? He thinks, agonized over your situation maybe more than you are.

His mind fills itself with the sight of you in your green dress. Gorgeous. His true flower among the lackluster gems in the crowd. They’re cold and hard whereas you are blooming and vibrant. Full of life.

You'd had your hands on him today too. In bed, on the dance floor. Soft warm digits caressing his face and body.

He can almost feel them here at the cliffside of slumber.

You’re tracing the shape of his arms, sliding your hands down onto his stomach, slipping one under the waist of his pants which he'd failed to remove before collapsing.

His mouth parts and he breathes in, tantalized by your touch until he realizes that he doesn’t smell peonies. It smells like mint and lemon. Small hints of gardenia. A soft tang. All wrong. Not you.

He’s been desiring your body. He wants to show you that he can make you feel good, just as Thor had…but this feels too good to be true after your fight.

“Y/N…” He calls out your name anyway, a passionate whisper, a wish for this dream in madness to be real.

He opens his eyes as a pair of lips press against his bare stomach and he yanks away from the blond head in his lap as deft hands make to slide his pants down.

“What are you doing?!” He’s in utter shock.

Not just because it isn’t you but because it’s someone that he would have never…no. This can’t be right.

Sharon. Maggie’s cousin. Her sister almost. One of his closest friends. Friends.

His senses come crashing back and before she can get his pants down further, he grabs her by the shoulders and pushes her back.

“Sharon, what are you doing? Why are you in here? You sh-shouldn’t be here.” Steve demands, shock still his primary leaning, he blinks the sleep from his eyes, confusion muddling his brain.

His rapidly beating heart helps him focus.

Sharon herself looks almost dazed but her eyes are clear as she meets his.

“Steve,” She shakes her head. “I don’t know why I never thought…tonight, watching you have to pretend with Y/N, that you love her and the baby…It should have been us after Maggie died.

“It’s what she would have wanted.” She reasons.

“No.” Steve shakes his head.

“I know that you know that I’ve always cared for you.”

“What?” Steve shakes his head.

“I always hoped that you’d look my way, but I resigned that wish when you and Maggie began to court.

“For you and for her, I would have done anything.” Sharon nods, her hands sliding up along his torso then back down to his hips.

“Sharon…” Steve begins, pushing her back harder until she’s sitting up fully.

“So, you don’t have to pretend anymore. We can be together. Let Y/N go and-"

“Sharon!” Steve says loudly, shaking her hard just once so that she’ll focus on him, her blonde hair swishing at the sides of her head with the rough shake. “First of all, what Y/N and I have is not a farce. It’s real. More real than anything I’ve had in a very long time, and I love her. Really love her. I’d die for her.”

Dramatic? Maybe. True? Definitely.

“But-" Sharon shakes her head, confused.

“Secondly, she is your Queen. You will treat her as such. You do not address her by first name. You do not speak to her as if you have known her all your life. Our friendship does not lessen your duty or obligation to respect and serve the crown be it King or Queen.

“Steve…”

“And thirdly,” Steve hesitates, if only because this woman is more than friend. She’s family.

Only a few years younger than Maggie but just as precious. Just as loved. A different love but love all the same.

“I have never felt for you the way you say you’ve felt about me.” He hopes he isn’t too harsh, but he also can’t leave her in any doubt.

Still, when he looks at her, he sees the small blonde girl racing after him, Margaret, and Bucky. Trying to keep up but unable. Calling out to them to slow down. “Wait foh me, Pwince! Maggie”

“I love my wife, Sharon. And your being here-this isn’t right. It isn’t proper. You’re crossing a line that once crossed will be hard to come back from."

“But if I can’t have you…” She begins voice utterly flummoxed. “…how am I supposed to keep Maggie alive?”

And she breaks. Steve sees it, right before his eyes. This woman, this fighter. Strong. Resilient. Part of the team…she breaks.

Whatever it was that had been keeping her together seems to shatter.

And Sharon weeps. Truly weeps. Steve can see in her the acceptance it took him nearly a year to acquire.

The reality that Maggie is gone. She will never come back and life is just that much emptier without her. It’s a hole that can never be filled. A piece that is taken and maybe over time the edges of the scar begin to heal and fade, but they’ll always be there. That unfillable hole. That pain.

Her sobs are not like yours—there you are again, taking over his brain—they’re quiet but make her whole body shake.

She wraps her arms around herself as if trying to keep herself together.

Steve’s hands flutter by her shoulders, at a loss. How can he comfort her without giving her the wrong idea? He can’t leave her like this.

She suddenly throws herself at him.

Her hands push him back as she straddles his waist and she pulls up her nightdress until it’s up above her thighs.

“Please, S-Steve j-just let me f-feel something…” She begs.

Steve is quick to get her off of him, shoving her to his left so that she rolls onto the bed and nearly off of it. The threat of falling makes her cling to his side.

He makes to shove her off but realizes she’s not clinging in a desire to get him in a compromising position but rather, she’s holding onto her sanity.

Her previous thought seems abandoned but still, Steve waits, checking to see if she might try again but she doesn’t. She only continues to fall apart and Steve’s heart aches for her.

His own eyes water and after a moment he gives in and holds her. He holds that little girl chasing after her older cousin, idolizing her strength. He gives her what he denied himself for a long time, reassurance.

“It’s going to be okay, Sharon. You’re going to be alright.” He assures her.

“I m-miss her!” She sobs, and Steve nods, rubbing her back.

“I know.” He gives her a few minutes to find some composure then makes to push her away.

“No!” Sharon cries harder, “Please, just a few minutes? I-I have no one now.”

Steve shakes his head, wanting to send her away but also unable to. How can she think she has no one? She’s family. She’ll always have the team.

“Sharon you can’t sneak in here like this again.” Steve chastises her, knowing her like a sister but unable to recognize the woman beside him.

He considers her as she sobs, wondering how long it has been since she talked about Maggie and what happened. Surely it wasn’t since the burial?

That amount of denial…

His lack of sleep begins to catch up to him as he watches her. He blinks, arms going slack around her as his eyes take longer and longer to open.

He doesn’t mean for it to happen. He was only going to give her a minute. Just enough to get herself together, then he’d show her out. But his exhaustion is too much.

Darkness takes him, then he hears it, the click of his door and a disbelieving gasp of betrayal.

~~~~~~~~~~

“Y/N.” His Majesty says.

You feel the edge of his fingertips against the small of your back and you jerk away from his touch.

He takes his hand back. A sorrowful sigh warms your side.

He’s almost curled around your back like an oversized cat, keeping his hands to himself but he’s eager to look at your face.

What he’s trying to see you’re not sure. Your angry expression? The pain in your eyes? The way you do that thing with your mouth when you’re furious?

“My sweet, I’m sorry. Please believe me.” He begs.

Once again, he tries to touch you, this time he places his whole hand on your back.

“Don’t touch me.” You say, nearly breathless. “I’m not ready for touch.”

You make it clear and pull away from him again.

He quickly takes his hand back and raises it a little so that you can see it.

“Okay, darling. Okay. I won’t touch you.” He looks like a big puppy. Large storm blue eyes giving off as much innocence as they can while you seethe.

You glare at him. “Do you have any idea what that felt like?”

He looks down at your hands, balled into fists around the sheets of your bed beside your thighs.

“I can-”

“You can’t.” You shake your head. “You can never know what it feels like to be lesser than. Inadequate. And then find the woman who makes you feel like that in your husband’s bed.”

“My husband?” Steve asks, smirking up at you.

“This is not the time to be making jokes!” You raise your voice, caring not that Peter can hear you.

The other guard switched off with him after all the screaming in the hallway.

Steve cowers. “Right, yes. You’re right. I’m an idiot. I’m sorry. A complete moron.”

You give him your back again, arms crossed over your chest as you let your anger settle.

“Am I a game to you?” You demand, agony slipping through to coat your words with ire.

“What? No. Of course not, my flower!” Steve insists.

He moves around you, sliding off the bed to squat in front of you, his hands find your wrists and you glower.

Quickly he takes his hands back and places them just beside your knees instead.

“I’ve said that I’m sorry so many times, I think the words are beginning to lose their weight.” Steve nods slowly, reading your irritation accurately.

“You’re not wrong.” You bite. “So, why don’t you stop doing things to be sorry for?”

“I’m trying.” He leans forward, nearly putting his forehead against your lap, but he doesn’t lay it down. You can feel the disappointment radiating off him. “I’m trying so hard to do right by you, but I do everything wrong.”

“Not everything.” You counter. “Your grand gestures, they’re lovely but I can do without those.”

“You didn’t like the pavilion?” He worries.

“I loved it, your Majesty.” He sighs but doesn’t complain this time. “But it was unnecessary.”

“It was very necessary. I cannot pay such homage to my deceased wife when my living one is just as precious.” He fights. “If I could plant peonies in every field surrounding the castle, I would. In fact, I think I will.”

“Please don’t.” You shake your head. “As beautiful as that would be, the expense would be extravagant and there are much better uses we could put that money towards. The school in the village is in desperate need of repair and new books. Perhaps we can add a whole new wing? For a proper library with all the most recent-”

Steve laughs.

“Why are you laughing?” You demand, annoyed with him easily because you’re already angry.

“Because you’re not like any woman I’ve ever known.” He reaches up to caress your cheek, but you pull away. He drops his hand, unoffended. “Most women would be swooning at the idea of such an expensive gift.”

“Is that what Sharon would like?” You spew, vile and bitter and rightfully jealous.

You watch as the light that had just entered his eyes is extinguished.

“Y/N…Sharon is not…” He stops, realizing what he’s about to say then thinks better. “I didn’t know that Sharon felt that way about me. I’ve known her all my life. She’s like family. I’ve always seen her as a younger sister. She used to follow Bucky, Maggie, and I around when we were children. For me it had always been Maggie. I never thought that she would think of me in that way. I certainly never thought about her that way. And I don’t now,”

You’re hanging on his every word for more than just his assurance of his feelings.

This is the first time he’s ever volunteered any information about his life before you showed up. This is the first glimpse into what made the man you see before you into the man that he has become.

“You do believe me, don’t you?” He pleads.

“I don’t know.” You admit, frowning. “Seeing you and her like that…Why was she in your bed?”

Steve growls, and you look down, angry but feeling like a bother with your questions.

He seems to notice the way you shrink because despite your protests, he reaches behind you to slide his hands down along your back to reassure you.

“No, darling, no. I’m not…I’m frustrated with myself. With this whole situation.” He explains. “Never with you. Ask me whatever you’d like.”

“Answer my question then.” You order, recovering quickly. “And hands.”

He quickly pulls his hands back to rest beside your knees and licks his lips as he considers how to answer.

“She did think that I didn’t love you. She came to try to-” He stops, tilting his head to the right and back quickly as he chews his lip. “When I realized why she was there, I told her that she was wrong. Then she tried to do it anyway, but I pushed her off and where you saw her is where she fell. And I was going to push her off completely. Send her back to her room but then she was in hysterics over Maggie and I-”

“Why can’t I escape your wife?” You ask him, saddened by Maggie’s perpetual presence in your marriage. And you sound it. You’re exhausted.

“You’re my wife, Y/N.” Steve affirms.

You ignore him. “I’m not saying that I don’t ever want to talk about her. She was a large part of your life up until the point that she wasn’t, and I am desperate to know about your lives together, but why does she keep getting in my way?”

“I don’t know.” Steve sighs. “I think maybe it’s me and not Maggie.”

He blinks, his eyes lingering more towards closed.

“Were you sleeping? When Sharon went in?” You wonder, remembering the shift of your bed as you tossed and turned.

“No.” He says. “I was almost asleep all night long. Every moment that I came close to slumber my thoughts of our argument would pull me back.”

His cheeks suddenly flush and this time he reaches to grab hold of the soft white sleeve of your nightdress and gives it a few flirty tugs. It’s a shy gesture and it warms you. This new side of him—him reaching out for you—is pleasant and surprising. You’ve seen only the cold man and more recently the eager man. Eager to make amends and reinitiate the intimacy of husband and wife.

This shy probing person, blushing up at you from where he’s planted himself innocently between your legs, he’s unexpected.

“At first I thought it was you. When she touched me…it was in a way that I’ve wished for you to touch me.” He confesses, voice low, deep, coming out of his chest to melt your resolve.

Your neck burns and you swallow hard, then you remember why he’s down there and why you’re on the bed, fuming.

“I don’t want to hear about how Sharon touched you, your Majesty.” You chastise.

“No. I wasn’t going…all I meant to say is that I only want you to do anything like that to me. I don’t need any other woman’s touch. Only yours.” He promises. “I wish…well I wish she hadn’t snuck into my bed and done what she did, but I wish that it had been you. I want you.”

“Then why was she in your bed?” You demand, unmoved by his declarations.

Steve shuts his eyes, thinking back to the last thing he remembers, and he could feel Sharon shaking in his arms as she sobbed what must have been two years’ worth of sorry.

She’d rejected her grief like he had only hers had manifested in a different way. Where he’d hurt you in his attempts to deal with that grief, Sharon had thrown herself at him. Then finally succumbed to the agony and fallen apart in his arms.

“I was going to get her off…I just…she started to cry and then I don’t remember anything. I remember thinking that she shouldn’t have tried to ignore her sorrow and then…then you were walking in. We must have cried ourselves to sleep.” He realizes, sounding regretful.

“You were crying?” You nearly gasp, remembering the way he’d looked that first night after your wedding, sobbing at your bedside for what he’d done and the utter shame and regret he’d been feeling. That broken man had won you over with his sincerity but the sight of him had been heartbreaking, eyes all red and swollen, brow knit in anguish.

As handsome as he always is, it wasn’t a good look on him. Not one you wish to see repeated. It seems even now all you want is for him to be happy.

Without thinking you reach up to trace what you can now see are the dried trails of his salty tears. Your fingers are gentle and careful, all thoughts of anger gone for a moment.

He smiles, flipping your heart over and over as you realize that he’s staring at you.

“What?” You wonder, moving to take your hand back but he catches it and he runs his thumb along your palm.

“How can you be worried about me now after everything that happened today? I thought you were angry at me?” He points out.

“I am angry with you.” You gripe, trying to pull your hand from his.

“Then why are you so kind? So caring?” He’s trying to read you and his scrutinizing blues have your stomach tumbling.

“I don’t understand your question.” You shake your head.

“I thought maybe you would choose not to speak to me again or maybe not care, after all of this.” He explains.

“Oh. Is that how it’s done here? Do you stop loving someone just because you’re angry at them?” You throw out. Maybe being a bit more bitter than you mean to be. “Well, I’m sorry I’m not some cool and collected noblewoman with skill I clearly have yet to learn. I don’t stop caring just because I’m angry.”

“No, Y/N…” Steve sighs and you yank your hand out of his grip. “I didn’t mean—”

You tear your eyes away from him, focusing off to the side at anything other than him.

Steve watches you, observing the way your shoulders droop, the way your lips quiver as if you’re ready to cry or maybe scream?

When he can’t stand your silence anymore, he sits down beside you, leaving no distance between you. He’s pressed against your side casually. The physical touch is not even a thought to him as he settles.

“You’re better than all of us, Y/N. You know that, right?” He asks, keeping his eyes on the ground as you finally turn to look at him. “Before I fell asleep, before Sharon…I started to think that maybe I’ve trapped you in this place without ever truly considering how this life might change you? Is this really the place where you belong?”

Your heart is suddenly racing. Is he going to send you away?

Your hand travels down to your stomach and you cup the small swell.

Wait, is he trying to get rid of you?

“Don’t you want me here?” You ask, not realizing how heartbroken you sound.

“What?” Steve looks at you, confusion etched across his handsome features. “Of course, I want you here.”

And then he’s laughing.

Laughing?!

“Why are you laughing again?” You demand, voice cracking a bit.

Steve turns to face you, his hands finding the sides of your face as he continues to laugh.

“This isn’t funny.” You protest, not realizing how close to tears you are.

“No.” He manages to say but chuckles a little bit more. “No, it isn’t. I’m sorry. Ignore me. I just can’t fathom how you thought I was telling you that I didn’t want you here.”

“Well, you said that-”

“I said that maybe, I trapped you in a situation where the life you lead can only be full of pain. I don’t like hurting you, flower. I hate it.” Suddenly, he’s not laughing anymore, but his thumbs are slowly tracing the shape of your cheekbones. “I wish I could take back every instance where I have hurt you.”

“Me too.” You admit.

“I want you here. I need you here. I love you.” He sighs.

Leaning in towards you, he tilts his head to the side slightly, but you quickly pull back before he can kiss you.

His hands slide off your cheeks as you lean away from the reach of his puckered lips.

“I’ve not forgiven you yet.” You remind him. “I don’t want to kiss you.”

A lie. But he doesn’t know that.

“I still don’t understand how Sharon being in your bed is alright.” You tell him.

“It isn’t.” He acknowledges and places his hands in his lap. “I should have sent her away as soon as I realized she wasn’t you.”

“Why didn’t you?” You demand, refocused.

“Because she was heartbroken. And she’s like a sister to me. I feel responsible for her in some ways because she was Maggie’s younger cousin. It never occurred to me that she would do anything like what she did today.”

You ruminate on his words but your gut instinct from that first day meeting her rears its head.

“I knew that this was going to happen. From the moment that I met her, and she refused to call me by my title…”

“Ah, that she won’t be doing again.” Steve assures you. “I’ve made sure she knows that it’s unacceptable the way she’s been speaking to you.”

“But you won’t send her away?” You ask, knowing the answer already.

Steve thinks hard for a bit, gauging your expression before he shakes his head.

“I can’t.”

Your heart drops.

“But it isn’t what you think, my sweetness.” He scoots closer again and you reach up to push his arms away as he tries to bring them around you.

“Stop trying to touch me.” You tell him angrily. “Why can’t you send her away?”

Steve refuses to answer. He stares at you, face growing more and more torn as he weighs your need for answers. You make to get up and leave him there in your room, alone.

~~~~~~~~~~

Steve reaches out for you and takes hold of your wrist. “Wait.”

You stop, turning to look at him, giving him a chance to remedy this. And in this moment, Steve knows that there is no other option. He must let you in completely or risk losing you permanently.

And this will be the last time he lets this happen. If tonight is any proof, you two cannot part angrily again. He won’t let it happen. He’ll stick to your side until the two of you have worked out whatever it is that’s come between you until he knows that you’re okay.

You are his choice and he will stand by it until he dies.

The tightness in his chest is painful. The thought of you away from him, hating him, and with his baby too? No. He needs to make this right.

“I’ll tell you. Please sit down?” He reaches for you and you don’t fight him this time.

You let him touch your hip and he turns you so that when you sit on the edge of the bed, you’re facing him.

He takes the opportunity to feel your tummy and you don’t pull away, which he’s grateful for.

You’re too good for him.

You’re justified in your anger and contempt and yet here you are, giving him this little bit of comfort even though you could continue to push his hands away.

“What I’m about to tell you is not something that should be repeated outside the confines of this room. If we’re alone, then it’s alright but if we aren’t, I need you to keep this secret. I know I can trust you, but I need you to know that this puts you in danger.” He sighs heavily. “More than you already are. I wanted to keep this from you for as long as I possibly could. This is not part of your life here, but it is a part of mine and Sharon’s and Nat’s and Bucky’s…we’re all part of it and since we’re always around you—”

You gasp and Steve stops to look up at you. Realization has made your eyes wide as saucers.

“The man who attacked me?” You guess.

Steve wants to smile. You’re so smart. Instinctive. Perfection.

“Yes.” Steve nods. “I’m certain it’s because you’re my Queen. But it’s more than that. Natasha, Samuel, Bucky, Peter, your father-”

“My father?!” You ask him in shock, Steve nods.

“Yes, your father. Your mother. Thor…Sharon…and a few others you haven’t met—all of us work hard to fight the evils of the world. This unfortunately exposes our loved ones to dangers.” Steve nods, watching the shock fade from your face. “Dangers that I didn’t want you exposed to. Dangers that have already found you.”

Deep fear begins to take root in his chest, choking him and he wants to hold you if only to feel you close and safe. But you don’t want to be hugged right now.

“So…” He can see your mind racing, thinking up a hundred different things until you seem to settle on one. “…Maggie? She was also part of this group?”

Steve nods. “Yes. She was my partner, in every sense of the word. She and Sharon made quite the team too. And when I lost her…to infection…I’d always prepared myself to lose her in battle. I know she’d thought about losing me that way too. We’d talked about it before. I never expected it to be so…normal.”

He wonders if you can suddenly see why he’s struggled so much with Maggie’s death. He’d come face to face with situations that meant life and death all the time, only to lose her when they were supposed to be safe, it took him so long to come to terms with it. For a long time, he couldn’t accept it.

And Maggie and Sharon were so close.

“So, she’s here because of the attack? Sharon?” You guess, and he wants to kiss that smart little head of yours.

“I sent for her as soon as Thor told me what he saw. It’s why he wasn’t here tonight. He’s been making regular scouting missions from here to Asgard since you got back. Just to make sure you’re safe.” Although Steve is grateful for Thor’s assistance, he’s also a little miffed. You’re his wife. Why does Thor feel so entitled to you?

Smug jerk.

“We were all going to meet tomorrow. She’ll hate herself in the morning.” Steve knows that she’ll find a way to apologize to you and him.

“Am I supposed to feel bad for her?” You ask him, and as Steve meets your eyes, he’s surprised though impressed by the sharp edge in your tone. The rage still bubbling there beneath the surface. “Because I don’t.”

“I know.” Steve nods.

“I don’t want to see her. Or speak to her. How long will she be here?” You wonder.

This disappoints Steve a little. He’d really wanted you and Sharon to get along since she’s precious too, but he can see how that is impossible now.

Why had she gone and tried something so foolish? Why had he let her stay? He shouldn’t have been swayed but she’s like a sister.

“I’ll send her home after the meeting.” Steve offers. “So long as nothing comes up. She’s very skilled at fighting those evils I spoke about.”

Steve can already see the hesitation in your pretty face. The regret. The guilt at asking him to send her home right away.

“If she’s really that valuable…if having her here makes things easier. If you want her here-”

“I will send her home as soon as the meeting’s over, my flower.” He insists, resolute in his choice. “I want you to be happy here. I know that things have been difficult for both of us. I’ve made things difficult for both of us, but I told you that I’m going to show you how much I love you and need you here and I meant it.

“There’s only you, Y/N. You are my forever and I hope to make it a pleasant forever. For me but especially for you. I have so much to make up for, if you will let me?”

You’re watching him, eyes big, trying not to blink because there’s a small puddle under each eye growing bigger by the second.

God, he hates it when you cry. If he could take all of your tears and turn them into smiles he would. No…your laugh would be better. So beautiful.

“Say something, little flower.” He pleads, moving the hand resting on your little swell to your hips. He scoots closer when you don’t pull away.

Will you let him hold you? He loved sleeping with you today. Cuddling together. Feeling your soft body between his arms had felt better than he would have thought possible.

Your tears finally spill over and he brings his hands up to wipe them away as they fall.

“Do you feel this way only because of the baby?” Your lip trembles and he feels his heart shatter. “I mean, I know that it’s what we’ve been waiting for, what you’ve needed, and I was just wondering-”

You look down at your hands, run them over your teeny bump, caressing the child sweetly. You’re already in love with that little one. You’re exuding devotion for it.

“-If maybe the reason you’re so eager to-to keep me here is because of the baby? I-”

Steve brings his hand down to take hold of your chin, gently pulling it upwards until he can meet your watery eyes.

“I have loved you from the moment I first laid eyes on you.” He whispers, “And I only fought it for so long out of a misplaced sense of responsibility for Margaret. You are my responsibility now. You are my love. This child is a blessing but even without it, even if the kingdom were taken from me, you are my wife.

“I will show you. What happened tonight…that will never happen again. I’m an idiot. A large one.” Steve can’t help but smile at you as you sniffle, reaching up to wipe your nose as you consider his words.

“I’ll leave again.” You tell him, not a threat but it’s a promise. He can see the determination in your eyes. “I can’t stay with that happening in the other room. Our room…”

Your drift off sadly and Steve realizes why you’d been at his door.

You had been coming to be with him. In his bed. And he’d found Sharon there instead.

“Shit.” Steve’s throat is tight. How is it possible that he missed this small detail? “It is our room. Damn it, Y/N. I will…I will have the bed remade. I will-What color do you want? We can redecorate the entire thing. Make it new. It will be our room. Tell me what you want, I’ll do it.”

Steve watches as you stare at him, then finally, your lips take a small curl. It’s not a full smile, but it’s a small one. Just enough to give him hope that he hasn’t fucked this marriage up permanently.

“I’m really tired.” You tell him, and Steve springs up to clear your side of the bed. He pulls the blankets back and holds them up as you slide in. “Thank you.”

“Of course, my flower.” He smiles at you, tucking you in and then letting his hands linger on your stomach.

“You’re staying, right?” You ask him, and when he meets your eyes, he finds you watching him with uncertainty.

“Of course, I am.” He says with determination. “Of course.”

He moves around the bed, blowing out a few of the candles that had been left on as he goes plunging the room into semi-darkness with only the light of the fireplace casting dancing shadows across the room.

He settles in, turning to face you and makes to hold you.

“No.” You protest. Steve freezes. “I’m not ready for that. I’m still angry with you. For more than Sharon.”

Damn. You’re right of course. Steve had gone and said too much at the feast.

“Right.” He nods, unable to help the crestfallen look on his face. “Right. I’m sorry.”

“You can hold my hand.” You offer, and when he looks at you, you’re holding your hand out towards him, laying on your side to face him.

Steve smiles. Hope. This is all he needs for now. As long as you haven’t given up on him, he’s okay.

He takes your hand, pulls it to his lips and kisses your fingers. He lays with you in silence. Watching as your eyes slowly shut, and when you’re fast asleep, he closes his too.

#king!steve x reader #king!steve rogers x reader #steve x reader #marvel fanfiction #medieval au #avengers x reader #mcu fanfiction #fanfiction #steve rogers x reader #captain america x reader #arranged marriage au #royalty au #steve x you #king!steve x you #pseudo princess pt18 #pseudo princess

1K notes · View notes

nerimas-nekoma · 4 years

Text

fwb. || kuroo x reader

just a little rewrite of a piece i’d done back in ‘17 for a completely different fandom - i’m putting it here and now while i work on other pieces lol

The air outside was damp, and the atmosphere inside of the apartment was heavy, both due to the heat and what was about to happen. Sheets mixed with dirty clothes on the floor and two bodies meshed with each other on top of the blue mattress, one of the only pieces of furniture left on the house along with tons of boxes that served as temporary decoration.

Skin was bathed in dry sweat from last night, the smell of sex still lingering in the air, and minds were full of regret, even if none of you would speak the truth out loud. Given the situation, you knew you had done wrong, but as you recalled the stinging sensation he left in (and on) your body it was as if the bad feelings were being pushed away, enclosed in a dark bubble that would not be touched until necessary. As you stared at the opposite wall, a grunt came from the person next to you, low and clear.

You waited patiently while your heartbeat sped up.

An arm wrapped around your waist as you let out a long sigh. "Oh, up already, eh?" a sleepy voice asked from behind. "I thought you were a heavy sleeper; did something happen? A bad dream perhaps?"

"A bad night, I'd say," you replied shortly. Turning around, you stared at the person that looked back with closing lids but a warm smile, warmth you could not bring yourself to feel nor return that morning. "Why did we do this again, Tetsurou?"

His smile vanished and soon his hazel eyes mirrored the hurt you felt too. "I told you before; we both need the company until someone better comes, and you're moving away soon, so I want to enjoy this as much as I can until I'm left alone."

You sat up, followed by him, his black hair covering most of his forehead. Under another circumstances, you would've jumped at him that very second. "We're just friends who keep hurting each other, Tetsurou, last night shouldn't even have happened! Is this some kind of game we play if we need to?" Pent-up anger started to boil inside of your heart, and once you were unable to control it, it was better to let it out altogether. "I've lost count of how many nights we've spent like this, the regret never leaves; you always tell me it'll get better, it'll all end soon, but you keep coming back, and I keep waiting for you to knock on my door at night. This is toxic, I don't want this; I don't want you like this."

"You... wait for me?" he asked, clearly baffled in front of everything he had just learned. "And how exactly do you want me? We both established the limits of our relationship the very first day I asked you for this. You shouldn't want me in any other way. Tell me right now if you must, do you have feelings f-"

"Yes, I do!" you yelled, "I have feelings for you, and I wait, and I know it's wrong, and I've tried many different times to actually get the fuck out of this, but I can't!" a single tear rolled down your cheek but you quickly caught it, looking away so he wouldn't see the sadness reflected on your expression. "I've felt this way for a couple of months now and I managed to keep it down, but ever since you found out that I'm moving away all you could do is come here for this and talk about the girls you fuck after me, and it's been killing me that I'll never be more."

Tetsurou had never seemed angrier to you, his frown deep and his mouth forming a thin line, his lips barely visible. He got out of bed and put on his boxers, his naked back still sending shivers down your spine every time you looked at it. Without another word, he locked himself in the bathroom, closing the door with such force you thought it might break if he did it again.

Now the tears were unstoppable, little hiccups making their way to your lips with almost inaudible noises. Putting on your shirt and wrapping yourself back with the sheets, you soon fell asleep again, not wanting to hear of the other person in the house again.

But you woke up anyways, not knowing what hour it was and feeling the familiar touch against you, his arms enveloping you in a tight hug while his chin rested on your shoulder; he was shaking, but you couldn't understand why. "This sucks, we shouldn't want each other in any other way," he started, repeating his earlier words. "So why do I feel like such a fool if I don't do anything? Why do you make me think like that? Fuck, I don’t want you to leave. You are precious to me but I won't hurt you anymore. I'll miss you, even if we're just friends at the end of the day."

And as Tetsurou was about to get up, you held on to his arm, making him freeze in place; a small gasp of surprise left his lips, his breath tickling your ear. "If you don't want to, don't leave," was all you could mutter. Almost sure he hadn't heard it, you kept on holding on to him and soon a small, soft kiss was left on your temple; you had won. "I know it's hard, but don't you think we can make it work?"

Your voice was quiet, as you knew what would come afterwards, what would happen in less than a week. With a dry laugh, he said, "You're moving away, I'm staying here. I was never one for long distance relationships, and we've been friends for so long I don't know how it would play out for us. We both know it's too much of a risk, that's why we agreed we'd stop if other feelings appeared." Listening to him only made you feel worse by the second, his words sticking like small needles on your heart.

Yet there was still one last thing you had to hear, and nothing would’ve prepared you for it.

"Yet I failed – I failed as much as you did, I thought I could hide it better. Falling for you isn't easy, you know?" he added, with a hint of a smile in his tone. "You have so many food cravings all the time, you listen to music way too loudly, you're dirty sometimes, and you like to watch stupid movies at night, but I found myself enjoying it even more as time went by. I think I know you better than anyone at this point, and I'm proud of that, because you're my best friend, you're the one person I know understands me better than anyone. And you know what?" he grabbed your shoulder and made you lay on your back to look at him; it was the first time a conversation had felt so deep, and you could do nothing but blink while he said, "I've come to love you too because, with everything we've been through, you're the only thing that's remained the same for me, and I'll never thank you enough."

Staring at him, your thoughts ran faster than they had ever before, but the only thing you could manage to do was kiss him; it was the first time you kissed with passion, the first time his lips against yours felt different, the first time you felt he meant it. When you pulled away, there was a new spark on his eyes, something that made it seem like there was one less weight on his back as well. Still a little bit doubtful, you asked while caressing his hair, "We'll make it work, right?"

"We'll make it work," Tetsurou reassured you.

#haikyuu #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu!!#haikyū!!#hq imagines #hq scenarios #haikyuu kuroo #kuroo tetsurou #kuroo scenarios #hq kuroo #kuroo imagines #mine

23 notes · View notes

big4girl · 4 years

Note

Heyyyy me again! I really loved your last fic so Imma request another, if that's okay! If you're still doing drabbles, could I possibly get a Hiccanna Angel/Demon AU fic with the sentence starter “If you don’t hug me right now I think I might fall apart.”? I'm in the mood for big boi angst lol (also kinda see Hiccup as the demon one here because of the dragon and fire connection, but reversed would be interesting too!)

I think I’ll go for what you suggested since it makes the most sense character-wise! I hope you enjoy!

****

Angels and Demons coexisted as enemies for many millennia. Good versus evil, light versus dark, virtue versus vice, Heaven versus Hell.

And Anna was okay with this. She was old, far older than the human numbers could reach. She thought she had seen it all. But that was before him.

The first time she was sent to Earth was on her first mission as a Guardian Angel. She had been protecting a little girl with brown hair and brown eyes who loved ice skating and playing with her brother.

Anna admired the way the family interacted; laughing, playing, creating. And how they created an orange and yellow light that kept the darkness away.

She listened intently one night when the little girl asked, “Mommy, why do we light the fire?”

The mother tucked her child securely in her bed, the covers pulled up to her chin. “Because there are evil things in this world, things that want to hurt us, and the fire keeps them away.”

Anna’s feathers ruffled at the mention of evil. How could someone even think about hurting people so innocent? Why they had never done anything wrong.

“Like the boogeyman?”

The mother smoothed back her daughter’s hair. “Yes, my love, like the boogeyman. But the fire keeps him away. You have nothing to worry about. And if the fire ever goes out, you have your guardian angel to protect you.”

Anna felt herself glow a little brighter as her ward’s eyes lit up.

“I bet she’s beautiful,” the little girl whispered.

Her mother kissed her on the head and said her goodnight, placing one of the brother’s head as well. How happy they were. How perfect that moment was.

Then that moment ended.

“Be careful,” the mother chided them.

“We will,” the boy replied with a laugh as his sister pulled him towards the frozen lake.

Anna walked carefully along the treeline above them, keeping a watchful eye, but she wasn’t worried. They had done this a hundred times before, what could go wrong?

How she wished she had paid more attention.

The ice cracked under the little girl’s feet, her sobs being drowned out by her brother's reassurances.

Anna couldn’t move, a force was keeping her rooted to the spot and she was furious.

She watched on in anger and fear as the brother coaxed his sister a few steps forward. The ice cracked, the little girl screamed and Anna was suddenly free from her trap.

She flew forward, grabbing the little girl by the armpits and flying her to the other side of the ice where it was thicker.

Anna smiled as the little girl looked around, her eyes finding her brother’s.

It was a blissful moment that was ruined by the deafening sound of cracking ice.

The brother let out a cry of surprise as it gave way under his feet, pulling him into the freezing waters below.

Anna cried out, but she couldn’t save him, couldn’t even touch him. She wasn’t his guardian angel.

“Jack!”

That’s when she saw him.

He was standing on the other side of the pond across from her. He had blood-red eyes and black scales running along his skin. He was frowning and. from a distance, Anna thought he looked angry.

“Hey!” She cried out angrily, leaving her ward’s side for a moment to fly towards the demon.

He disappeared when she reached him. She let out an angry shout before returning to the little girl’s side. Watching her sob as she ran for her parents.

Jack became an angel for his sacrifice.

Anna met him in Heaven. Shook his hand and apologized for not being able to save him. He didn’t hold it against her, just asked for updates on his sister every so often.

Anna would watch over the little girl until she was old and was ready to go.

When she closed her eyes for the final time, Anna was there; her hand out in greeting, ready to take her to Heaven. To her brother.

“I was right.” She said, taking Anna’s hand. “You are beautiful.”

Anna smiled. “I will miss looking after you,”

“You can come to visit me anytime,”

Anna knew it didn’t work that way but didn’t say anything, just smiled and nodded.

They were met at the gates by Jack and her other family members she had lost over the years. The moment she stepped through the gates, she was reverted to her child form, running to hug her brother for the first time in a long time.

Anna would have cried if she were human.

But her heart did feel funny, watching them.

Her next ward was a little girl in Scotland. The girl had a head of curly red hair and a bow and arrows at six years old.

Anna knew she had her work cut out for her.

She watched on from a tree as the little girl played hide and seek with her mother and received a brand new bow from her father, much to her mother’s dismay.

It was beautiful until the little girl screamed.

Anna was up immediately, landing in front of the mother and daughter, using her powers to still the bear until they were safely out of the way. She saw the way its eyes glowed red and she knew that this was no ordinary bear, but a demon-possessed one.

The father and his men charged the bear, pointing spears at it and a rush of panic flew through Anna. No, no, no not again.

The bear moved right past her and she was once again rooted to the spot, unable to move, unable to help in any way.

The bear slashed at the wooden spear, effectively ripping the sharp end of it off.

The father threw the splintered wood aside, ready to take on the monster with his bear-hands.

It roared, ready to go in for the kill.

“NO!” Anna screamed, breaking free of the hold with all of her ability and slamming herself into the bear. It staggered to the side, jaw sinking into the man’s ankle instead of his neck.

Anna watched as the father screamed and the demon came out of the bear.

It was the same one from the lake.

His red eyes met Anna’s gold ones. He seemed surprised, intrigued.

Anna, however, was livid. She lunged at him, only for him to disappear the same as he had before. Anna screamed out in fury.

The father was alive, at the cost of his foot. But he was alive.

And Anna was in trouble.

“Άννα.”

She was suddenly standing in the blinding white room of her boss.

Not God, much worse.

“Elsa,” Anna replied, turning to see the head Guardian Angel standing before her.

“Άννα,” She repeated, using Anna’s original angel name. “You meddled.”

Anna frowned. “I had to! That demon was going to kill my ward’s father!”

“You cannot meddle, Άννα. You should know better.”

“Come on, I saved somebody! Isn’t that what guardian angels are supposed to do?” Anna argued.

Elsa only gave Anna an icy glare. “I’m sorry. But I cannot allow you to watch over Merida any longer.”

“What!”

"Acts like this have consequences, Άννα.”

“That’s so stupid! It wasn’t even my fault! If that stupid demon hadn’t been there-”

“Enough,” Elsa said sternly.

Anna cowered underneath her gaze but was still stewing with anger.

“You are on probation from guardian duties. You will be assigned to another job until it is through.”

Anna was on probation for centuries and it felt like a millennium. When she was finally released on another mission, she was assigned a boy this time.

Who was a troublemaker, of course. She always seemed to get those. But Anna didn’t mind; in fact, she was overjoyed because she was always on the move. Being locked up in heaven will do that to you.

Her ward was living the life. Just accepted into college at fourteen and being praised by his brother.

Anna watched on with admiration as the two talked. Her siblings up in Heaven never showed any emotions, perhaps that came with being an angel, but Anna longed for love.

Maybe that made her a bad angel, she didn’t care. Love was a fascinating prospect.

Then everything went bad. Just like it always does.

Anna noticed the fire right after the two boys did. She flew alongside the two brothers, terrified as she watched multiple guardian angels flying around the place.

Where was Tadashi’s? Anna suddenly realized, looking around to find Rapunzel.

She finally caught sight of her near the sidewalk, completely frozen in place, unable to move, to do anything.

“No,” Anna said with sudden terror. “No, no, no, no-”

She turned to find that Hiro and Tadashi had moved, gone closer to the flames.

“Tadashi no!” Hiro cried, latching onto his older brother’s arm.

“Somebody has to help.”

“No!” Anna cried flying forward, trying to catch Tadashi, but it was too late. All she could do was stand in front of Hiro and shield him from the blast.

“Tadashi!”

Hiro’s cries were faint in Anna’s ears as she looked around the scene. Guardian angels were flying everywhere, following people away from the fire and helping the firefighters put out the blaze, Rapunzel was free from her hold and she was crying, and there was that demon again.

Anna’s eyes landed on him at the steps of the building. He was gazing up at the fire, reflecting ominously in his red eyes.

He wouldn’t get away this time.

“Hey!” Anna cried out.

He didn’t move and Anna flew forward, tackling him to the ground.

He let out a cry of surprise and a grunt as they landed against the hard earth.

“What’s your problem with me, huh? Why do you keep killing the people my wards care about? Every time you’re around one of them dies!”

The demon below her didn’t say anything, just took on her wrath with surprising calmness.

This made Anna even more furious. “You don’t feel guilty at all? Ha. Should expect that from filthy demons like you! You probably take pleasure in killing people-”

“We don’t kill people,”

“What?” Anna asked, glaring at him.

The demon cleared his throat, as the best he could with Anna sitting on his chest. “We don’t kill people. We just cause chaos. Posses them, mess with them, make bad things happen, yes, but we don’t kill people.”

“Then how do you explain-”

“Do you think you guardian angels would let us get that far? We can’t overpower you, you know that. So, how can we kill anyone?”

Anna’s mouth went dry at his words.

No. He had to be lying. He had to be.

“Then how are these people dying?”

“Don’t ask me. Maybe you should take it up with the higher authorities.”

Anna’s world was crashing down around her. Heaven wouldn’t- they couldn’t-

“It’s not the Devil who chooses when people die, Angelface.”

Anna ripped her hands off him, stumbling backward, trying to get away from him.

“Then why were you there? Every time you were there.”

“We’re in tandem, I guess. I’m just a worker Demon. Like you. At least” - he frowned. “-I was.”

“We are nothing alike.” Anna spat.

“Keep telling yourself that, Angelface.”

“Stop calling me that! My name is-”

Anna was transported into Elsa’s room again.

“Άννα.”

“What?” Anna yelled, turning to face her superior, who was stone-face. “What, huh? What do you want from me? Want me to go on probation again? Because I’m sick and tired of watching people die, Έλσα.”

“You interacted with a demon, Άννα. This is serious.”

“So what? He was some beat demon, there to start a fire that was killing people.”

“Demons don’t kill people, Άννα. The lord decides when they are to come to Heaven.”

“What?” Anna said, angrier than ever. “But we’re Heaven! We’re supposed to be the good guys! The light! Killing people is wrong!”

“Άννα. Calm down.”

“No! No, why? Why does some unseen celestial being get to decide the fate of good people? Old age, okay, fine, but young people? Children? That’s wrong.”

“We serve the lord, Άννα. We don’t question.”

“Well, the lord can beat it! I don’t care! This is wrong! How can you not see that?”

“I’m sorry, Άννα.”

Anna was cast out of Heaven immediately. Her halo stripped from her, her wings turning a dark black to signify to the other angels her crimes. She would walk the Earth as a ghost.

She hit the ground near where her last assignment had been.

“So,” the demon said, sitting next to her when she came to. “I’m guessing taking it up with the higher authorities didn’t go so well?”

Anna felt something for the first time in her life. She left a million things at once and it hurt.

She turned to the demon with watery eyes and she noticed for the first time that his eyes weren’t red anymore. In fact, they were a really pretty green.

“If you don’t hug me right now I think I might fall apart.” She said.

The request didn’t seem to shock the demon. He just opened his arms and allowed Anna to hug him, to sob into his shoulder.

He wrapped his arms around her and squeezed as hard as he could.

Anna felt something she had never felt before, but couldn’t place the emotion. Over time she would learn, but now all she wanted to do was cry and be held.

“Any chance you’ll give me that name now, Angelface?” he asked softly.

“Anna,” She choked out. “My name is Anna.”

“Nice to meet you, Anna. My name’s Hiccup. And I think we’re gonna be spending a lot of time together.”

#hicanna #hiccanna

8 notes · View notes

quiet-onset · 4 years

Text

In The Wind

Pairing: Steve Rogers x black!Reader

TW: alcohol consumption, implied sexy times, a pinch of fluff and a fuck ton of angst

Word Count: 10.2k (this is the longest single fic I’ve ever written by like 4-5k words, i'm never doing this again lmao)

A/N: Broke = cacw discourse, Woke = using cacw canon to write angsty fics at 3 am. this is only kind of edited so it is what it is lol. Enjoy!

You weren’t sure if you regretted meeting him.

You didn’t know how you felt anymore. You knew you thought of him everyday. You knew that you longed to feel the warmth and heaviness of his body against yours. You also knew that you were angry, so damn angry for making you feel these things. For making you miss him, want him.

But did you regret him? You weren’t sure.

The first time you met shouldn’t have happened. Steve knew that. He should’ve been more careful. Checked more security cameras, spied a little better. But espionage was always Natasha’s expertise, and, for now, he was running it solo. So when he ran from the FBI in Hell’s Kitchen, he had no one to blame but himself.

He had been jumping from roof to roof, dreading the sound of the approaching helicopter. He knew if they got that spotlight on him, it’d be over. So, instead of jumping to the next roof, he dropped onto the fire escape, traveling down until he found an open window.

He climbed inside and pressed himself to the adjacent wall, heart pounding against his ribcage. He listened as the helicopter continued on, searching for him with no success. Just as he allowed himself to breathe, he heard the cock of a gun.

When he turned his head, there you stood, curls tied up with a blue silk scarf, shorts and a T-shirt two sizes too big, with a shotgun aimed and ready to fire. “Get out of my house.”

Steve took a step toward you, watching as you steadied your hand. “I’m not gonna hurt you.”

“I’m the one with the gun here, dude. So, unless you want a chest full of buckshot, get—“

Finally, you saw him clearly. His hair was a tad longer and he had the slightest bit of stubble, but he was still recognizably Steve Rogers. After all, the news had his and his friends mugshots plastered on every channel. You barely managed to part your lips for a gasp when Steve heard the thunder of footsteps come down the hall outside your door.

“Look,” He said, “I’m sorry, I just needed—“

Three solid bangs on your front door. “FBI, open up!”

You lowered the gun as you looked back at Steve. It was clear that he was trying and failing to come up with a new route of escape. Three more bangs, and you sighed. “One second!” You called.

You handed him the gun and quickly guided him to your bedroom. “Get under the bed and wait.”

He followed your instructions while you grabbed your robe and scurried to the door. You swung the door open as you brushed a stray curl away from your face. “Can I help you?”

Two men pushed past you and into your apartment as the first one spoke. “We need to inspect your apartment.”

“Do you have a warrant?”

“Are you hiding something?” He returned.

“Asking for a warrant isn’t an admission of guilt, agent.” You raised a brow. “Besides, what would the FBI be looking for here?”

“Steven Grant Rogers.” He eyed your living room suspiciously before continuing down the hall, leaving you to follow close behind.

“Captain America?” You snorted. “What would he be doing in some random woman’s apartment in Hell’s Kitchen?”

“You tell me.”

He walked into your bedroom, and your heartbeat sped up. You had no idea why you were putting yourself at risk for a stranger, but somehow, it felt right. Like you were doing what you were meant to be doing in that moment.

“Agent, I am not hiding Captain America in my fucking bedroom. Alright? I was getting ready for bed, actually, when you banged on my door like I was the one being arrested.”

He walked up to you, invading your space. He looked down at you, tried to make you feel small. It was a popular tactic, one you were used to. You watched as the other two agents came in and began to search. “We have orders to search every apartment. If you don’t want to cooperate, we can arrest you, too. Ma’am.”

“This might be news to you, but I have rights, same as you. You need a warrant to search my house unless I’m an immediate danger to the public.” You told him. “However, considering you’ve already searched my entire home, I suggest you leave now while I’m still thinking about not suing you.”

“Suing us?” He chuckled.

“I have some lawyer friends, same ones that put Wilson Fisk in jail. If they can get a life sentence for a man like Fisk, imagine what they could do with this story. Agent.”

You watched as they all stopped, including the agent who was just about to bend over to look under the bed. The agent’s brow twitched as he stepped back and gave you an indignant look. “That’s what I thought.” You said. “Feel free to come back with a warrant.”

Moments later, your front door was locked, and you went back to your room where Steve sat on your bed. You almost winced when you saw him in the light. His right eye was beginning to swell, his lip was split, and his leg looked like he needed stitches. He placed the shotgun beside him. “Do you really know the lawyers who took down Wilson Fisk?”

“Not at all.”

He chuckled and stood on his feet. You knew he was trying not to put too much pressure on his leg, but his scrunched brow told you he was failing. When he managed to steady himself, he saw the shine of concern in your eyes. “I’m fine.”

“You’re hurt.”

“Super soldier healing. I’ll be fine.”

“Let me help you.”

“You’ve done enough for me already.” He told you. “I know that couldn’t have been easy for you.”

“Easy?”

“I’m an Avenger, but I’m not blind.” He said sincerely. “America’s fucked up, and anyone who’s not white or rich gets the short end of the stick.”

You paused, surprised that he’d explained himself so outright. He seemed unapologetic about his statement, eyes only wavering when the pain became too much. A sigh with the faintest remnants of a smile passed through your lips. You walked a few steps over to your dresser and pulled open your drawer. Out of it, you pulled a bottle of whiskey and a first aid kit. “I’m already abetting a fugitive, Rogers. Might as well add aiding to the crime. Sit down. I’ll get some ice for your eye.”

Steve usually didn’t take well to orders. But you, you made something in him stir, if only for a moment. Some part of him that longed for someone else to take over. To make him forget about being an alleged criminal, about the friends that he’d lost. The part of himself that he’d lost.

So he sat down.

When you came back, you began tending to his wounds. Your hands were delicate as you tried your best not to cause him any additional pain. He almost chuckled at your caution and grace. In some dark part of his mind, he knew the damage he could cause you. Yet, you were the one asking every other second if he was okay.

“You know you don’t have to do all of this.” He said.

“I didn’t have to not shoot you either, but here we are.” You answered, tilting your head. You handed him the bottle of whiskey as you got ready to stitch the wound in his thigh. “You might wanna drink some of that.”

He chuckled, “Alcohol doesn’t really do anything for my senses.”

“Right. Super soldier, I forgot. Guess you’ll have to brave it.”

“Not the first time.” He let out a small hiss as you moved the fabric away from the cut.

Your eyes flickered up to him for a moment, catching the clench of his jaw, sharp and tense. “So you sneak into people’s houses to hide from the FBI often?”

“I was, um, handling some business in Hell’s Kitchen. Wasn’t paying attention, and they found me.”

“Wow. Steve Rogers outsmarted by the FBI.” You joked. He chuckled along with you as you finished stitching him up. You offered him the bottle once more. “It won’t get you drunk, but it’ll burn on the way down, and I have a feeling that’s what you really need.”

He looked taken aback for a moment. You imagined that not many people were so straightforward with him. He was called Captain for a reason, you supposed. Not many people told Steve what he needed to hear — that was why the Avengers was perfect for him. Nobody was afraid to tell Steve how it really was. But now, with him being a fugitive, lots of people were scared. Of him or of what he represented, he wasn’t sure.

But not you.

He took the bottle with a small smile.

“Well,” Steve spoke when the silence got a bit too loud for his liking. “I should be going. If that agent’s attitude was any indication, they’ll probably be back with a warrant. That’ll give you some time to get rid of the evidence.”

“Evidence?”

“My blood?” He chuckled.

You looked down at your hands and saw the faint tint of blood on them. You let out a short laugh and nodded, “Right.”

The way you looked at each other was far too comfortable for two strangers. Each set of eyes held a story. The ever-stretching line of inconceivable loss in his and the struggle to overcome social hardships in yours. Both your hearts were hardened in some ways, and you could both sense it. When it became too much, your gaze flickered to the ground for a quick moment. “Don’t pull those stitches, Captain. I won’t redo them.”

“Yes, ma’am.” He said with a weak salute. “Thank you.”

“Just don’t get caught.”

The next afternoon, the FBI would return with a warrant and search your apartment as you watched the news. The headline?

Captain America in the wind once more.

---

“I’ll be fine.” You slurred to your friend. “I can get upstairs just fine.”

Your friend, Heather, shot you a disapproving gaze as you hiccuped, the alcohol in your body starting to slowly wear off. She unlocked the car door with a sigh. “Text me when you’re inside.”

“Okay.”

“I’m not moving until you do.” She added. “And lock your door!”

“Alright!”

Although you stumbled up the stairs and eventually had to take your heels off, you made it safely to your apartment. The text you sent as you locked the door was incoherent, but you knew your friend would understand. You dropped your heels at the door and padded into your living room.

“Your window is broken.”

You gasped at the sudden deep voice that cut through the dark, only recognizing him when he turned on the lamp. There sat Steve Rogers once more. He looked up at you with a furrowed brow, noticing your glazed over eyes. You threw your phone at him for scaring you, which he caught easily. “You can’t just break into someone’s house and sit in the dark! That’s weird!”

“I couldn’t risk anyone seeing me.” He explained quickly. He stood, “Are you drunk?”

“What’s it to you?”

“You’re drunk in an apartment with a broken window. Anyone could break in. I did.”

“Yeah, which is still weird.” You hiccuped. “What are you doing here, Captain?”

He was at a loss for words. He didn’t have an answer. Not one that made any sense, at least. He couldn’t explain the feeling, but he couldn’t forget you. Your eyes were burned into his mind, your bravery forever in his heart. He tried everything to forget you, but nothing worked. Whether it was attraction, infatuation, or some feeling that could only be expressed in another language, he didn’t know. Still, he couldn’t tell you that. Especially not while you were drunk. So he settled for, “Steve. Call me Steve.”

You paused, crossing your arms over your chest. “Alright. Steve.”

Steve felt a shiver travel down his spine. He would never admit he liked the way his name slipped past your lips. He watched you stumble over to the couch and helped you sit down. “Happy drunk or sad drunk?”

You snorted, “Both.”

“Wow, two for one.”

“I broke up with my cheating boyfriend.” You explained. “I’m happy to be rid of that asshole, but it still hurts, you know?”

Steve nodded, holding back a chuckle as you burped quietly. You groaned and threw your head back as you realized you would probably throw up soon.

“He didn’t deserve you.” He told you.

You laughed bitterly, “I know.”

As if on cue, you stood and ran to the bathroom with Steve quick on your heels. He watched as you dropped to your knees over the toilet bowl and emptied the contents of your stomach inside. You pulled a few stray curls out of your face and held them back, praying you hadn’t gotten any vomit in your hair. You felt Steve’s presence behind you and sighed. “I’m sorry. You should… you should just go.”

But of course, Steve was never good at taking orders.

He marched up to your sink and found a few bobby pins before opening up your medicine cabinet. He found some painkillers for later and took them out for you. He quietly walked up behind you and softly cupped your hands with his own. You barely had the chance to protest before another wave of sickness washed over you.

“Let me help you.” Steve said gently. “I’m just returning the favor.”

You knew there wasn’t much you could do for yourself, and you couldn’t deny that you needed help. So you let go of your hair and allowed him to pin it back. His warm hands then fell to your shoulders as he spoke. “I’ll be right back.”

Moments later, he returned with a glass of water and some crackers he’d found in your cabinet. He sat with you on the cold tile floor, flushing the toilet as you turned away from it. He offered the glass silently, and you drank it in a few gulps. You looked over at him as he worked on opening the crackers. “You know, you’re good at this.”

He chuckled, seeing that you were starting to sober up. “You’re not the first drunk person I’ve taken care of.”

You took a cracker from the packet. “When was the first time?”

“You don’t have to humor me.”

“If I were humoring you, you’d know.” You scoffed playfully. “I want to know. At the very least, it’ll keep my mind off of the nausea.”

He shook his head with a short laugh as he took out a cracker for himself. “I was fifteen. My best friend Bucky told me he had a surprise, that I had to come over after school. I didn’t suspect anything until I saw the brown paper bag in his hands.”

“Wait, you’re, like, ninety. Isn’t this during Prohibition?”

“He always knew a guy who knew a guy.” Steve nodded with a smirk. “His parents were out of town, and his sisters only kept his secret because he let them taste it. I already had enough health problems back then, so I wasn’t really interested in getting drunk. But Bucky…”

“As drunk as me?”

“Oh no, much worse. Absolutely shit-faced.” A smile tugged at his lips as you laughed. He admired the way your glazed eyes lit up with happiness for those few mere moments. “I ended up in the bathroom with him all night.”

You smiled softly as you nibbled on another cracker. “He’s lucky to have you.”

Steve felt his chest tighten at the smile on your lips. His brain told him to stop whatever he was feeling. He had no business barging into your house, into your life. He had other things, bigger things to worry about. Yet, he sat here on the floor of your bathroom, worrying about whether you were going to vomit again or if you needed more water. It was stupid of him to let this feeling go so far, he knew. But he couldn’t help it. Not when you smiled like that.

He reached over to the sink and grabbed the painkillers, giving you two. “I’m gonna get you some more water. Keep eating those crackers.”

“Yes, sir, captain sir.” You gave him a weak salute. He saluted back with a playful chuckle before leaving to get more water, not sure if this behavior was your true self or the remaining alcohol.

When he returned, he found you clumsily taking off your makeup. “That couldn’t wait until tomorrow?” He asked, handing you the glass of water.

“No. Do you know how bad that is for your skin? I’m too pretty to damage my skin.” You chuckled before downing the pills.

Steve looked to the ground, making a quiet noise of agreement. He hadn’t expected you to stop drinking the water and ask him what he said. He was caught red-handed. “What?”

“What did you say?” You asked.

“It’s not important. I just…” He sighed. “I agreed with you. About you being pretty.”

“Oh.”

He shrugged. You’d have recognized the slight shyness in his voice if you were fully sober. “I’m not blind.”

It got quiet after that. You couldn’t help the way your mind was racing alongside your heart. The space between you both was so small. All it would take a gust of wind, a slight nudge and the space would be filled. And for some reason, you longed to fill it. As your thoughts caught up with you, you remembered that you’d just met him. He didn’t even know your name. The longing you had made no sense. Not to mention, you were still a little drunk and nauseous. You couldn’t act before you considered the outcomes. “Y/N.”

“What?” Steve’s brow furrowed.

“My name. It’s Y/N.” You stepped back and took a deep breath. “I just realized I never told you.”

“Right.” He mimicked your movements, putting a bit more distance between you. “You should get some rest.”

“Yeah, you’re right. I’ll, um, head to bed right now.”

Steve nodded once before giving you one last long look. He told himself that this would be the last time, that he wouldn’t give in to that insistent tugging in his heart. If this was the last time he’d see you, he wanted to remember. You watched him as he walked back down the hallway, stopping just before he entered the living room.

“Fix your window, Y/N.” He called.

You smiled. “I will.”

“Someone could break in and sit in the dark.”

“I get it, Steve.”

And just as quickly as he’d arrived, he was gone.

---

A few months pass before you see him again. And you have to be honest with yourself, you spend every second thinking about him.

You weren’t sure what it was about him. Sure, he was Captain America, but that didn’t seem to matter when he came through your window. In your apartment, he’s just a man. He’s just Steve Rogers. Sure he was on the run from every conceivable government authority, but he was running from more than that. It was like he was running from himself, from everything that made him Captain America. And without fail, all the running somehow led back to you.

It didn’t matter where you were or who you were with. At work, you’d see his smile in the reflection of your computer screen. When you were with your friends, you could hear Steve’s laughter as he recounted his childhood. Even on the few dates you’d been on, the only thing on your mind was Steve’s voice calling you pretty.

And that was the annoying part. You knew you were pretty. You knew your value and how much you were worth, but when he said it, it felt unreal. There were butterflies in your stomach, a feeling you hadn’t felt since you were a teenager. It was strange having such a visceral reaction to a statement you already knew to be true, but it wasn’t the statement. It was the man making it.

Speak of the devil, and he shall appear.

You were walking home from a friend’s when two men in ski masks stopped you. Guns locked and loaded, they shouted at you to give them your wallet and phone. Your hands were raised in hopes that they wouldn’t shoot, but they simply yelled louder.

“Okay, okay.” You started calmly. You moved your hands slowly to your purse, digging around the bottom in a frantic search. You flinched as they told you to hurry up.

Suddenly, a man dropped down from a nearby fire escape. Steve.

As soon as he snatched the guns, Steve crushed the barrels with his bare hands. A fist flew at one guy’s face while you grabbed the pepper spray at the bottom of your purse and sprayed the other.

You watched as Steve kept going with a fierce look in his eyes. It was unlike anything you’d expect from Captain America. No, this was sheer rage. You marched up behind him and grabbed him by the shoulders, pulling him away. He only allowed it as the two men scurried away with blood dripping down their faces.

“Steve, what the hell?” You dragged him into a nearby alley. “What are you doing out in broad daylight?”

He ignored your questions and placed two large hands on your cheeks, tilting your head this way and that as he checked you for injury. “Are you okay? Did they hurt you?”

“Steve, stop it. I’m fine. What are you doing here?”

“I was on my way to your apartment when I saw those guys trying to rob you.”

“Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why were you going to my house?” You asked. “Why do you keep coming to my house?”

And once again, Steve was speechless. He couldn’t explain the panic in his heart when he saw you being held at gunpoint. He couldn’t explain the blind rage he felt as his fists collided with their bodies. He wanted to believe he had no idea why he kept coming back to see you, but he knew why. Despite his reputation, he was never great with his feelings. At least not these kinds. “Y/N, can we just.. Can we talk? Please?”

You sighed, crossing your arms. “Meet me at my place. And try not to make another scene. You’re a fugitive, Steve.”

He’d made it there before you, but was unable to get in. See, you’d taken his advice and fixed your window. So, he stood on the fire escape, hoping to God that no one would look and see him as he waited for you. When you got back, you rushed over and flipped the latch, pushing the window up with a squeak of the frame. “Again, what are you doing here in the middle of the day?”

“You fixed your window.”

“Yeah, you told me to.” You stepped aside so he could slip in. “Thanks, by the way.”

“Y/N, they were robbing you. You don’t have to—“

“No, not that. I mean, also that, but I meant thanks for that night a few months ago.”

His head dropped as he let out a weak chuckle. “I’m surprised you remember that.”

“I remember waking up with the worst hangover. I also remember the night before.”

“Everything?”

You nodded.

You could see the gears in his head begin to turn, giving you a moment to look over him. His beard was thick and full, and his hair was longer than before. Dressed in a black combat suit, you wondered where he just came from. He obviously had bigger fish to fry, so what kept him coming back to Hell’s Kitchen.

Then, without a word, he reached into his pocket and pulled something out before placing it on the table between you.

A cell phone. Albeit a very old one, but a cell phone nonetheless.

“I wanted to give you this.” He said, “For… emergencies.”

You stared at the phone, your brow furrowed, before looking back up at him. “Steve—“

“I can’t stop thinking about you.” His eyes were shut tight as he emptied his heart. “I don’t know why, but I can’t. No matter where I’m going or what mission I’m on, you’re always on my mind. I know it doesn’t make any sense, and I understand if it freaks you out, but I needed to tell you.”

“Steve—“

“And even if you don’t feel the same, just keep the phone. I wouldn’t forgive myself if something happened and you needed to contact me but couldn’t.”

You paused as he took a deep breath, finally opening his eyes. You looked at him expectantly. “Are you done?”

“I think so.”

You silently picked up the flip phone, chuckling because it was just so Steve-like. You opened it and realized that his number was the only one programmed into the phone. You smiled softly as you raised an eyebrow, “Does it work?”

“I just—” Steve let out a short laugh of disbelief. “Yes, it works.”

Steve watched as you pressed a button and held the phone up to your ear. You looked up at the ceiling, clicking your tongue as it rang. With a grin on his lips, he dug his phone out of his other pocket and flipped it open. “Hello?”

“I like you, too, dummy.”

---

Turns out, you changed the definition of emergencies only.

It had been four or five months since you last saw Steve. He’d spent the night after you both confessed to the feelings that you’d been repressing since the day you met. You helped him peel off the black suit he wore and showered with him. You helped him scrub off the blood that had dried into his skin, and he massaged your shoulders, tight and tense from the stress of your own life. And later, you’d both gotten into some activities that made you both need another shower.

But now, you were alone. Your place felt so empty without him. It was only one night, yet your whole life was changed. You were acutely aware of the sound his bare feet made against the hardwood floor. The warmth of his chest against your back as you slept in bed. The low timbre of his voice when he just wakes up.

Plus, it was the day before his birthday.

You knew how stupid that sounded. Steve Rogers was a fugitive on an international scale. He had plans to be in a different state or country practically every other week — he hardly had time to celebrate about being a year older. Yet, you couldn’t stop yourself from thinking that he deserved it. He deserved to do something as mundane as celebrate his birthday.

So, instead of using the burner for its intended purpose — emergencies — you called him.

And received no answer.

You sighed and snapped the phone shut. You held the phone against your lips as you thought through a plan. When you had it all figured out, you smiled, wondering if that was how Steve felt when he finally perfected a plan. You grabbed your purse and headed to the nearest grocery.

You strolled through the decorations aisle with your cart, stopping as you saw an employee, a teenager, removing something from the display. As you got closer, you realized what it was and frowned.

Fourth of July balloons with Steve’s shield plastered on them.

The employee saw you eyeing them and smiled gently. “Got a call from the owner himself to remove them.”

“Crazy, right?”

“Not that much.” She shrugged. “I mean, he did break the law.”

“Yeah, to do the right thing.”

“How do we know he was right, though?”

You stared at a picture of Steve’s shield and saw all it represented. Hope, justice, bravery — you couldn’t explain how you knew. You just did. “He was.” You told the kid.

The kid watched you stare aimlessly at the balloons. She wasn’t sure why you were so invested, she could tell it meant a lot to you. She pulled two packets out of the box and handed them to you.

“They were taken out of circulation so security won’t pick it up.” She explained. “Just don’t let the manager see.”

You looked over at her, not even realizing that you’d zoned out. You smiled at her and took the balloons before slyly stuffing them in your purse. “Thank you.”

Your smile returned as you gathered all your other supplies before walking over to the bakery. The man behind the counter smiled as you approached. “Last minute Fourth of July cake?”

You chuckled, “No, not Independence Day. A birthday actually.”

“What would you like on it?”

“Do you, um, do you mind decorating it with Captain America’s shield? Or maybe just red, white, and blue in general?”

The baker’s smile widened. “You’re the first person to ask for that this year. I’m glad.” He began gathering the frosting he’d need. “I don’t believe anything they say about him. He’s a good man.”

You smiled to yourself. “Yeah. The best.”

Meanwhile, Steve was in Philadelphia, trying to get some intel into Tony’s future plans. He just got back to the quinjet when Natasha called his name from the pilot seat.

“You’re never leading the mission again.” Steve teased her, touching two fingers to his split bottom lip as he stood just to the side of her seat.

“Afraid of getting a little banged up?” She chuckled.

“More like tired of it.” He replied. “Bucky and I have been taking all the beatings lately while you and Sam somehow always manage to come out unscathed.”

“You and Bucky should do better at your jobs then.”

Steve let out a little laugh as she lifted the jet into the sky and immediately turned on the cloaking mechanism. He braced himself above her head and looked out over the clouds. “So why did you call me?”

“‘Cause somebody called you.”

“What?”

“That mysterious burner you always carry around? It rang while you were in the field.”

His eyes widened as he reached for the flip phone, seeing the ‘Missed Call’ notification glaring back at him. He turned back to Natasha, “I need you to take me back to the city.”

Her brow furrowed as he began packing a duffel bag toward the back of the jet. “What, New York?”

“Anywhere is fine. I’ll get to where I need to be.”

“Steve, we’re supposed to be headed for Switzerland in a week—“

“Then, I have a week.”

“Tony and the feds will be on our asses soon if we don’t get out of the country.”

Steve turned to look at her and saw that she’d put the jet on autopilot. She was looking right back at him in that way that she always did. If there was anything Natasha Romanoff was good at, it was knowing when someone was lying, even by omission. But Steve was no victim of her skills. He was her best friend. And that worried look in his eyes? It scared her.

Steve sighed. “There’s someone on the other end of that phone. Someone I really care about. She’s the only one with that number and I told her to call me if there’s an emergency.”

Natasha shifted her weight onto her other leg, her hands on her hips. “Is she cute?”

“Natasha.” He smiled softly.

“Where can I drop you off?”

“Near Hell’s Kitchen.”

She turned on her heel and began punching coordinates into the navigation system. “I get to choose where we go after Switzerland.”

You arrived back at your apartment a few hours later, finally gathering everything you needed to pull off your plan. You smiled to yourself as you locked your front door and threw your keys onto the side table.

Suddenly, when you turned the lights on, a man emerged from the hallway, and you let out a loud gasp. You dropped the bags you had been carrying, only calming when you realized that it was only Steve.

“Steve!”

You stepped over the bags and raced into his arms. He wrapped his arms tight around you, cradling the back of your head in his large palm. He couldn’t help but release a breath of relief as he felt the comfortable weight of your body against his. He pulled away from you and held your face in his hands, eyes searching for any sign of injury. “Are you okay?”

“Steve, I’m fine. I promise. Why are you so worried?”

“You called me on the burner.”

Oops. You’d totally forgotten about that. You smiled sheepishly, “About that...“

“Y/N—“ He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, preparing for your explanation.

“I’m sorry! You were gone, and I missed you. Then, I remembered I had a way of contacting you.”

“It’s for emergencies only.” He scolded you.

“I know, I know. It’s just that I missed you a lot, and your birthday is coming up, and—“

“My birthday?”

You looked behind you at the bags you’d dropped on the ground. Steve followed your line of sight before spotting something that had fallen out. He stepped away from you to pick it up and inspected it carefully. His head dropped and hung between his shoulders, a quiet laugh spilling from his lips. “Captain America balloons?”

“And other non-Captain America stuff.” You added defensively. “Not the cake though. That’s got Cap all over it.”

“You got a cake?”

You gasped, “The cake!”

You ran to the bags and fished out the one carrying the small circular cake, frowning when you found it. The cake was still in one piece, but the frosting was ruined, mushed against the top of the container. “Shit! Ugh, none of this is going how I planned.”

You couldn’t see beyond the messed up cake, but Steve’s eyes had the softest look. “You had a plan?”

“I was going to have a little party. Blow up balloons, light some candles, have cake. And I was going to send you pictures so you knew I remembered and that I wished you here with me and,” You looked back up at him and saw the gentle look in his eyes, “Why are you looking at me like that?”

He smiled, “No reason. You know my birthday is tomorrow, right?”

“I didn’t know what time zone you were in.”

He let out a laugh and slid his arms around your waist. He kissed you so gently, more so than he ever had before. There was no lust behind the kiss. No promise of anything more than his tongue sweeping across yours as he pulled you closer still. Nothing but care, adoration, and a little four letter word that neither of you dared to say.

When you pulled away for air, you rested your cheek on his shoulder, peering up at him as you wondered how he stumbled into your life. “What was that for?”

“For the party.” He pressed a kiss to the crown of your curls. “C’mon. These balloons won’t blow themselves up.”

---

Since that last visit, Steve had made it a point to visit you more frequently. Every two months, at midnight on the dot, Steve was at your window with his duffel bag, a small smile on his face. It was working well for you both, and his variation in changing locations kept the feds and Tony off his trail.

At least, that’s what you thought.

It was your birthday the next time you saw Steve, but it wasn’t exactly planned — at least not on your end. Bucky was flying the quinjet over the city, dropping Steve off so he could surprise you for your birthday. Then, Steve spotted a squadron of black vans. They didn’t seem to be following the jet, which was good, but they were following a route that Steve was all too familiar with.

“Shit.”

“What is it?” Bucky asked.

“They’re going to Y/N’s place.”

“What? How did the feds figure that one out?”

Just then, an object shot across the sky above them. It didn’t detect the jet thanks to Vision’s modifications, but they could very clearly see who it was. Steve glared at the hot rod red and gold suit as it flew further away from them. “The feds didn’t.”

You were lounging in bed, enjoying your day off from work when you heard a knock on your window. Your brow scrunched as you wondered why Steve would be here. Sure, it was your birthday, but he was scheduled for a mission today. Then you realized, he must’ve been lying so he could surprise you for your birthday. With a smile on your lips, you slipped out of bed and walked down the hall, prepared to give Steve the biggest hug you could muster.

Then the smile dropped. Because it wasn’t Steve outside your window.

It was Tony Stark.

He was in a suit, in typical Tony Stark fashion, the Iron Man suit keeping itself suspended just behind the rails of your fire escape. He knocked on the glass once more with a slightly facetious smile on his face. You walked up to the window and unlocked it, pushing it up for him. “Was there a reason you couldn’t use the front door?” You asked.

“Tony Stark, nice to meet you.” When you stepped back, he swung one leg over the window sill, then the other, stepping in and giving the room a once over. “Do you know why I’m here?”

“No. I’ve only ever seen you on television.”

“Does the camera add ten pounds?”

“It does something.”

“You flatter me.”

“I don’t.”

Tony’s eyes narrowed, amusement tugging at the side of his lips as he picked up a picture that sat on your mantle. “You sure hold a lot of animosity for someone you’ve never met.”

“I can’t imagine you haven’t experienced worse.” You took the frame from him as you replied.

“Aren’t you wondering how I knew to come here?” He asked. “How I knew to knock on your window? How I knew you’d answer?”

You stood silent, glaring at him.

“Really? You’re gonna make me do the whole monologue thing?” He asked, only to be met with more silence. He huffed dramatically, “Fine. I’ve been trying to track him for a long time now, Y/N. I’ve tried the internet, tracking the quinjet, cell towers. Cell towers were a big one. But I also know Steve isn’t stupid. He wouldn’t risk calling anyone while on the run, especially not on the fancy new phones we have today.”

“Is this going somewhere?” You watched as he paced around the room, trying to keep your heart steady. You still had no idea where this was leading, but you were sure he was going to tell you.

“So I figured, maybe he’d buy a burner. And lo and behold, he did. Janky flip phone, real two thousand five looking. But he paid good money to have GPS and the tracking number erased, so cell towers were useless. Until you.”

You knew he was baiting you into giving Steve up, into admitting that you knew Steve personally. Although you would never tell him about Steve, you were on edge as you thought about the many ways you could have left him vulnerable. Still, even as a thousand scenarios played out in your head, deep down, you knew that you hadn’t been anything less than discreet. The only way they could have known is—

“You had me tailed.”

“And you were a hard one to tail, I will say. You were very careful.” He admitted. “But that’s not how I learned about you.”

You watched as Tony fished through his pants pocket before pulling out a flimsy sheet of film, burnt around the edges. Something Tony had found in the aftermath of one of Steve’s crazy intel missions in a hole-in-the-ground government facility. He walked up to the table that stood between you both and slid it across to you. As your eyes widened in surprise, Tony knew he had you. It was a picture of you and Steve, taken on a polaroid he’d brought a few visits before.

A flip of the latch and he was in for the rest of the week.

You squealed as he lifted you off your feet, spinning you around. When he finally set you down, you pulled him in for a kiss, slow with the promise of something more. He chuckled lowly as he pulled away only for you to whine. “I wanna show you something.”

“Show me later.”

You swatted his hands, urging him to drop the duffel bag he’d been carrying, and led his arms around your waist. One long and very tempting kiss later, he was pulling away again. “Y/N.”

“I’m busy. Giving you my best work here.” You pressed wet kisses down his neck. Then, you settled on the spot just below his ear, always guaranteed to make him lose his mind. He had to fight the urge to throw you over his shoulder and take you to the bedroom, his hands clutching tight to your hips. Then, he pushed you back to an arm’s length and took a deep breath to calm himself.

“I’m gonna show you one thing, and then, I promise, I am all yours.”

You sighed dramatically, crossing your arms over your chest with a pout. “Fine. But this better be good, Steven.”

You watched as he quickly slid off a backpack that you’d only then noticed. Digging around the inside, his eyes lit up when he finally found what he was looking for. He dropped the backpack and showed you what was in his hands.

“A camera?”

“A polaroid.” He added excitedly.

“Babe, that’s a little old school. Even for you.” You chuckled.

“This is a newer model, thank you very much.” He said, shaking the small black camera for emphasis. “I thought about a digital camera, but that’s the issue. They’re digital. If someone got their hands on the SD card, they could connect you to me.”

“I don’t care, Steve.”

“I do.” He took a step closer. He cupped your cheek with one hand and caressed his thumb across it lovingly. “If I ever get caught, I don’t want them to find out you were helping me. You’d go to prison.”

It was at that moment that you came to a scary realization. You didn’t care if you went to jail because you’d be doing it for Steve, for what you believed was the greater good. That was when you knew you loved him. Neither of you had told each other, but the sentiment could be felt every time you saw each other. It was the spark between your fingers when you held hands. The way he’d twist your hair for you when you were too sleepy to do it yourself. The way you’d scrub blood off his body when his visit happened to coincide with a mission gone bad.

You both knew, but it was impossible to say.

“So,” You changed the subject. “You bought a polaroid instead.”

“That way, no one will know except you and me.”

“Our secret.” You nodded, your smile finally matching his. You grabbed his arm and pulled it up in the air as you positioned the camera where you wanted to be.

“Oh, so now you’re an expert in photography?” He joked.

“Shut up and take the picture.”

Tony’s eyes softened as you picked up the photo and relived a memory that he’d never be able to understand. He couldn’t say it didn’t hurt — hunting the man he once considered to be one of his best friends. His heart hurt as he watched you swallow down your tears and refuse to cry in front of him. He didn’t want to be the one to bring Steve in. Still, he had to be.

“Where is he, Y/N?”

“Screw you.”

“Just tell me where he is, and you’ll never hear from me again.”

You opened the drawer to the table and fished out the lighter you’d bought for Steve’s birthday party. You held the polaroid to the flame and watched as the picture burned to ash, gently tossing it in the waste bin. “You have no physical proof that I know Steve Rogers.”

“Y/N—”

“Get out of my house. Now.”

Tony looked at you, defeated and heartbroken at the same time. He acquiesced, stepping back out the window while telling his agents to meet at the rendezvous point. When he stepped back into the Iron Man suit, he gave you a nod. Even behind his mask, you could tell he had a backup plan.

Once he was out of sight, you remembered the emergency plan that Steve had drilled into you once it was clear you were getting serious. Pack a bag, get some cash, and leave town. “He’ll find me.” You kept repeating to yourself as you stuffed your clothes into a spare duffle bag.

When you were done, you picked up the burner and called Steve, sighing when it went straight to voicemail. “Hey babe, it’s me.” You cringed at your shaky voice. “It’s an emergency this time. Tony Stark just showed up at my house. He knows about us. I’ve packed a bag, and I’m getting ready to go. I don’t know where. But you’ll find me. Right?” You shook your head, pushing away any bad thoughts. “Okay. Don’t come to my place, alright? Someone’s probably watching. Just find me.”

Just as you hung up, there was a knock on your window. Worried it was Stark or one of his men, you ran to the closet and picked up your shotgun. Then the window slid open.

Shit, you thought, I forgot the latch.

You inched down the hallway, taking deep breaths as you held the gun steady. Suddenly, someone stepped out, your finger pulled the trigger. Your brow furrowed, though, as the sound was contained in the palm of the man’s hand, light splintering off of it. “Bucky?”

“You must be Y/N.” He smiled kindly. “Steve sent me. I’m gonna get you somewhere safe, alright?”

Meanwhile, Tony flew across the city to the rendezvous point, an abandoned warehouse on the Upper East Side. He’d gotten confirmation from his agents just a minute ago that they’d arrived and were waiting for him on the scene, yet when he got there, nobody was to be found. He stepped carefully around the back of one of the black vans, finding one of the agents passed out beside it. “FRIDAY, scan the warehouse for heat signatures.”

“There’s no need.”

When Tony rounded the vehicle, he saw Steve standing across the room. He looked different — a full beard, longer hair, a new black tactical suit that Tony was sure he didn’t design — and yet, he still looked the same. A glimmer in his eyes that Tony once mistook for self-righteousness. He now knew that was just Steve’s determination. “This is a pretty stupid plan, Steve.”

“It would be if it was a plan.” Steve shrugged. “I’m winging it.”

“That’s an even worse plan.”

“Something tells me I’ll be fine.”

“You know I can’t let you walk out of here.”

“You never let me do anything. I’m only here to warn you.”

Tony’s head drooped as he let out a low chuckle. “This is about the girl. You do know her.”

“Stay away from her, Tony.” Steve snapped. “I mean it.”

“You think I’d hurt her?”

“Of course not. But I don’t put you above turning her in.”

“She aided and abetted a fugitive.”

“I’m not having this argument with you. I know you just came from her house. From here on out, stay away from her. This is your only warning.”

Tony was thankful that his mask could not emote as surprise overtook his face. This wasn’t one of Steve’s idle threats that would amount to nothing like when the Avengers were first formed. Tony knew he was serious because he recognized Steve’s expression. It’s the same one Tony got when anyone dared to threaten Pepper.

It was hard admitting that he understood where Steve was coming from. But he did.

“And what if I don’t?” Tony asked, just to gauge his response.

Steve discreetly let out a breath of relief as he heard Bucky confirm that you were safe on comms. Looking back at Tony, his expression was a mixture of darkness and regret. “I’m not sure either of us wants to find out.”

Then, there was a flash of light that all but blinded Tony. When his eyesight returned to normal, Steve was gone.

In the wind once more.

---

Screw him.

After Tony found out who you were, Steve had taken to a safe house — a cabin in upstate Pennsylvania. It had been another favor from T’Challa. The king bought it under an alias and allowed you to stay in it until it was safe for you to go back to New York.

And to be honest, you couldn’t say you didn’t like it. It was kind of a neighborhood, multiple cabins built around one large lake. None of your neighbors actually lived there; they were more like vacation homes. Still, over the few years, you got to know them. It was nice, having that small sense of normalcy.

Not to mention, it was much easier for Steve to visit this way. He’d come in the back entrance from the woods and stay a week or two, maybe more if he didn’t have any upcoming missions. In fact, it almost became like Steve’s home, too. When he wasn’t on a mission or in Wakanda, he was with you. And though Steve was always the first to say he no longer craved the normalcy of family, he couldn’t deny that being there, with you, was like a dream. A dream that was so close but still unattainable.

He was reminded of that when aliens invaded Earth. For the second time.

He up and left in a hurry one day, rushing out an explanation about how aliens were after Vision for some unknown reason. Still, he assured you that he’d come back, and you nodded sending him on his way with a quick kiss of his lips. It wasn’t unlike any of his other missions.

The difference this time was that he didn’t come back. At least, not for a year. Then, he was at your door again. No warning. No call. No cuts or bruises. Just him in the navy blue combat suit, silver star viciously ripped out. Thick beard, pink lips, and a look in his eyes that could kill. That is, if you didn’t know him. But you did know him. More than he’d like to admit.

So yeah, screw him.

How dare he just show up at your door without so much as a call. Steve had never gone that long without not seeing you, not speaking to you. You thought you meant at least that much to him. Even so, when you saw his face, you couldn’t help but want to be back in your old, beat-up apartment, eating junk and talking about shit that eventually wouldn’t matter until the sun rose.

Your first thought, though, was to slap him. So you did.

He’d seen it coming. He watched your small, soft hand that he’d held in his one too many times rise toward his cheek. He knew he could’ve stopped you. His instincts told him to stop you. But part of him knew he deserved it. He’d become the hero everyone needed, but in return he was no longer satisfied with the man he saw in the mirror.

He was a shell. Smiling for his friends when needed, saving the city, country, world when needed. Or trying to save the world. But inside he barely felt anything.

One of the few things he did feel for stood right in front of him. That’s why he let you slap him.

You knew the hit would barely phase him. He was a super soldier after all. The only thing he could feel was relief. Relief in knowing that you were here, in the flesh. Relieved knowing that the woman he adored hadn’t vanished into thin air. So he crashed his lips against yours in a passionate embrace.

Surprised didn’t begin to explain how you felt. Still, you could hardly complain when Steve’s lips were moving so tenderly against your own after so much time apart. You were still angry — how could you not be? — but you still worried for him. It all seemed to be happening too fast. From what you saw on the televised memorials, he’d lost half his team, his best friend. You were starting to wonder if he should do this so soon.

You were finally given an opportunity to breathe when Steve started to leave a trail of kisses down your neck. One of his hands slid down your body and grabbed onto your thigh, hooking it around his waist. “Steve.” You called.

He hummed, finding and nipping at the spot on your neck that made you gasp.

“Steve.”

His grip only tightened, pulling you as close as he could.

This time, you spoke more firmly, pushing his head away, “Steve.”

He looked at you, his breaths coming out in huffs. “I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have to be sorry.” You admitted as you caught your breath. “Are you sure you—“

“I need to feel something.” He said quietly. He seemed almost ashamed as he spoke. “I wanna be sad. I wanna be angry. God, I want to be angry. I'd at least have something fueling me. But I don’t.”

“You don’t what?”

“I don’t feel anything. I feel empty. Every time I close my eyes, I see Bucky turning to dust. Or Vision’s head caved in. Sam’s gone, Wanda’s gone. I just, I need to feel something, anything. Please.”

The look in his eyes was one you’d never seen from him before. Distraught, hopelessness was only a start. In the year he’d been gone, you had no idea what he’d been through. And, to some extent, you know how he felt. You saw some of your own friends and family on the memorial reels. You’d cried yourself to sleep more than once, wondering if you’d ever see them again. You knew that as bad as you felt, Steve probably felt worse because in his mind, it was his job to save them.

And he couldn’t. Didn’t.

So you pulled him closer and pressed your lips to his. Walked him back toward the bedroom. You took care of him, made him feel, even if only for a moment, when he was completely and utterly numb. And you laid with him afterward until you both fell asleep, no idea what the morning would bring for you.

You’d find out that the morning would not be much kinder. When you woke up, Steve was slipping his combat suit back on. He cursed softly when he realized you were awake, “Didn’t mean to wake you.”

“Right.” You huffed, your voice still groggy-sounding. “You just meant to leave before we could talk about what the hell happened last night.”

He sighed, “Y/N—”

“So this is what you do now? Show up and leave when it’s convenient for you?”

“Y/N, I’ve always been honest with you. You know that—”

“That you’re a fugitive? Half the fucking universe is gone, Steve. They’re not worried about you anymore.” You scoffed, sitting up and clutching the sheets to your bare chest. “You know what? For the first time, I thought I could be selfish, that you could be selfish.”

“I can’t.” His voice was barely above a whisper. He tried to veer away from the conversation as he glanced around the room and muttered to himself. “Where the fuck are my boots?”

“You’d saved so many people. So many lives kept safe because of you. And when you made one mistake in the eyes of the law, a whole lot of them turned on you. And you’d think that, of all things, would make you want to be selfish, just once.”

“I can’t afford to be selfish.” He replied. “People need me.”

“I need you, Steve.” Your voice was so quiet, so vulnerable, that it made him freeze. In all the years he’d known you, he’d never once heard you sound so helpless. Child-like, almost. “You were gone. For a year.”

“I know.” He let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding in. He came around to sit next to you, a comforting hand on your thigh as you leaned back on the headboard. “I’m sorry.”

“I had to watch my neighbors disappear into thin air. It was like everything was moving in slow motion, and for the first time in my life, I was terrified. Terrified because I didn’t know if I was next.”

“Y/N…”

“Then I saw the memorials. I lost my best friend, too. Heather.” You told him, a tear finally falling from your eye. “My aunt, two cousins, my nephew. They’re all gone.”

“I did everything I could.” Steve said, trying but failing to hold in his own tears.

“I know you did. That was not your fault. I know you would’ve given your life for the world.” Your brow furrowed as you looked over at him. You placed your hand over his, squeezing reassuringly. “That’s not why I’m upset with you. You didn’t come back to me, Steve. I knew you were okay, they said so on the news. I kept waiting and waiting, and you never came.”

“I couldn’t.” He wiped the tears from his face. Then, he abruptly stood from the bed. “I shouldn’t have come back here.”

“Steve—”

“It’s only hurting both of us to be here.” He quickly found his boots and slipped them on.

“Steve, stop it!” You slipped out of bed and grabbed your robe.

“Y/N, you don’t get it! I can’t do what I have to — I can’t be Captain America — if I’m always thinking about you!”

“Then tell me you don’t love me.”

His lips parted in shock as he tilted his head, eyes giving you a sad look. “That’s not fair.”

“Just tell me. That way, all this, this bullshit, will make sense.”

“You know I can’t do that.”

“Why not?” You chuckled bitterly. “It’s not like we’ve said it to each other anyway.”

“Stop, Y/N.” He shook his head and walked out of the bedroom, toward the back door. You were quick to follow him, staying on his heels.

“Say it.”

“Don’t.”

“Say you don’t love me, Steve.”

“Goddamn it, you know I love you, Y/N!” He snapped, turning to face you. “I love you, alright?”

Everything about that moment was the portrait of juxtaposition. He’d just snapped at you, sure, but he also just said the three little words that you’d both been tiptoeing around for years. He finally professed his love to you, but his eyes were filled with sadness, with regret. Steve may have been the hero, but the way he was looking at you made it clear that he was the one who needed saving. Not that he’d ever let you.

And to think it was him who initially sought to be a part of your life.

“Then, why are you leaving?” You asked, tears still falling from your eyes.

“I can’t be Captain America and the man who loves you, and I do love you. So much.” He stepped closer, ignoring his own tears. He placed his warm hands on your cheeks and pulled you close, resting his forehead against yours. “Because if it ever comes down to everyone or you? I’m choosing you.”

You wished the moment could have been more tender. But your heart broke at the thought because looking in his eyes, you knew it was true. You grabbed his wrists tight, afraid to let go. “So this is it?”

“I’m so sorry, Y/N.”

He pressed his lips to yours in a bittersweet kiss. You could taste both your tears on your lips, but it didn’t matter. Nothing else in the whole world mattered except for the feeling of his lips on yours because this would be the last time you ever felt it. You prayed to whoever was listening that you’d never forget the feeling. His soft lips nudging yours apart, the heaviness of his hands on your face. You hoped you never forgot what it was like to feel him, his weight, his heat, his joy, his sadness. Everything about him, you hoped it would be ingrained in your mind because even though it had only been a few years since you met, you couldn’t imagine life without him anymore.

When he pulled away, it felt too soon. He looked at you one more time, his eyes puffy and red. He memorized your eyes and your lips, the contrast of your brown skin against his pale hands. He slid his hands down your neck, to your shoulders, then your forearms, finally willing himself to step back. He looked like he wanted to say something, and you hoped that he would. But nothing came out.

With one last glance, Steve was out your back door.

In the wind. For good.

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x black!reader #captain america x reader #captain america x black!reader #steve x reader #steve x black!reader #marvel x reader #marvel x black!reader #captain america fanfiction #steve rogers fanfiction #marvel fanfiction #steve rogers angst #angsty af #no one ever let me write a single fic this long ever again

143 notes · View notes

snifflyjoonie · 4 years

Text

Airplane Air

In which Seokjin does a good job of hiding his budding cold...until he gets onto an airplane.

Snz-centric with Seokjin as the sickie and Namjoon as the caretaker.

Word Count: 1960

a/n: Hey guys! Sorry again about how long this took me. Life’s been weird lately, y’know? But anyway, it’s done!! It’s also a little on the shorter side so I apologize for that, too. Either way, I hope you all enjoy it! It was a cute little concept to write, lol. Anyway, thanks for reading!!!

For the most part, Seokjin enjoyed flying. With the line of work he was in, you pretty much had to. If you didn’t, it was a fear you had to learn to overcome quickly. They spent so much time in the air that sometimes Seokjin felt like he had permanent jet lag. It was a weird sensation to never quite know what time it was. He wondered if he’d ever get used to it.

Despite all of this, if someone were to ask him if he truly enjoyed travelling, he believed he’d be inclined to say yes. Travelling was fun, rewarding, eye-opening...when everything went right. Of course, having things go right only happened about 30% of the time, which was a lower percentage than he would have liked, but there wasn’t much he could do to change it. Trying to keep his six younger counterparts organized was a job he sometimes felt he wasn’t cut out for; even with the help of their hardworking staff. As the years went on he became more accustomed to taking care of last minute hiccups. As the eldest, he felt semi-responsible when travel plans would suddenly go awry, and would do his absolute best to smooth the situation back out again. Namjoon lost his passport? Everyone stop what you’re doing and help him look. Hoseok feels plane sick? Someone please rub his back and find an extra airsick bag. Jungkook’s ears won’t pop? Well, does anyone have gum? It was never ending, and the exact reason Seokjin always tried to stay on his toes during travel days. He couldn’t afford to be anything less than fully at attention. His dongsaengs needed him, after all.

* “Woah, Jin-hyung, are you alright?”

Seokjin cleared his throat harshly and straightened himself upright, coming face-to-face with a concerned-looking Jungkook. He had just barely recovered from a rough coughing fit that left his throat feeling sore and raw. He brought up a hand to rest gingerly on his Adam’s apple and stole a glance at the iced coffee he had clutched in his other hand before responding. “Yeah, of course.” He did his best to sound nonchalant and gestured towards the drink he’d purchased in the airport with a nod of his head and a scoff, “I just swallowed the wrong way.”

Jungkook seemed to buy it, and Seokjin let out a small, relieved sigh as the maknae walked off. The truth was he was absolutely, positively, 100% sick. He had known from the moment he’d opened his eyes that morning. There was no use denying it to himself; but what the other members didn’t know wouldn’t hurt them.

A sudden pat on his back pulled him from his train of thought and he glanced over his shoulder to find Namjoon smiling at him, dimples on full display. “You ready, hyung?” He asked happily, hand still resting on Seokjin’s back, “We’re about to board.” “Oh.” Seokjin cleared his throat into a fist and forced a smile, doing his best to ignore the new coppery taste that filled his mouth. “Yeah, Joon-ah. I’m ready.”

Any other time Seokjin wouldn’t mind admitting to his band mates that he was feeling under the weather. However during flights, where things always went wrong and there was always something for him to fix, he figured keeping his condition to himself would be the best course of action. Besides, aside from a scratchy throat and a bit of a stuffy nose, he felt pretty alright, for the most part. All he planned to do on the plane was sleep, anyway; Once everyone else was settled in, of course.

Seokjin trudged along behind Namjoon sluggishly, politely bowing his head to the stewardess as she scanned his passport and welcomed him aboard. Finding his seat was easy enough, and he was pleased to see that he’d be sitting at a window seat next to Namjoon. Namjoon normally preoccupied himself by reading during flights, which left Seokjin feeling more than a little relieved. He just didn’t think he had it in him to endure the maknae’s boundless energy, or even Hoseok’s bubbly personality. Some peace and quiet next to Namjoon meant he could let his guard down, lean against the window, and get some much needed rest. Seokjin squeezed his way past Namjoon and plopped down into his seat with a tired-sounding sigh. Namjoon smiled at him and Seokjin forced one back as he did his best to get situated. Once the pilots’ announcements were finished Seokjin quickly grabbed his headphones and placed one in each ear, determined to keep to himself as the plane taxied down the landing strip.

“Are you going to watch a movie, hyung?”

Seokjin blinked at Namjoon and ripped a headphone from his ear before the other pointed at the screen on the back of the seat in front of him. “I think I might. Or maybe read.” “Oh.” Seokjin huffed out a small chuckle and shook his head dismissively, “Not this time. I think I might try to sleep.” Namjoon nodded in understanding. “It’s a long flight.” Seokjin hummed in agreement and turned himself away from Namjoon slightly. He didn’t want to appear rude, but he just didn’t feel much up to small talk. Thankfully, Namjoon didn’t seem to be offended by Seokjin’s standoffishness, and instead started digging around in his carry-on for a book. Seokjin blew out a quiet breath and rested his head against the plane window as they finally began to race down the runway. He laid there for a moment as the ground beneath them slowly started to disappear from view. He felt himself grimace slightly at the change in air pressure, knowing full well he’d most likely get stuck with a pounding headache before they’d even reach full altitude. Annoyed simply by the thought, Seokjin was more determined than ever to fall asleep as quickly as possible, but it was then that his nose chose to give a sudden, small twitch. The man exhaled sharply and pinched his nostrils lightly between his thumb and forefinger in an attempt to quell the sudden itchiness that was rapidly filling his nose. When that didn’t work, he dug a knuckle into the corner of a nostril aggressively. However when his next exhale came out as a stutter he simply rolled his eyes and pushed himself upright, accepting his fate. Turning away from Namjoon further yet Seokjin quickly cupped his hands around his nose and mouth before rocking forward in his seat. “hH’DDSHhhuh!” Namjoon glanced up from his book just in time to catch Seokjin dipping deeper into his hands with a second, more urgent sounding sneeze. “hA’ISSHHhiu!” “Oh, man. Bless you.” Seokjin cracked open one watery eye at the sound of Namjoon using English and sniffled thickly into his palms. “Thank you.” He responded back, deciding to use English as well as he straightened himself back up and gingerly rested a knuckle onto the tip of his nose. “It’s just...uh...airplane air, you know?” He kept the English going to make Namjoon laugh (and to hopefully deter Namjoon’s attention away from his sneezes) and was pleased when the younger man did so. “I know.” Namjoon hummed, using English jokingly one final time before letting out another breathy chuckle and turning his attention back to his book. Seokjin cleared his throat and sniffled into the back of his sleeve with a small sigh as the plane continued to gain altitude. His sniffles were sounding wetter now than they had been prior to the group’s ascent, and he could feel that his nose was starting to drip. He wasn’t sure if it was from the air pressure changing or his sudden sneezing, but either way, something in his sinuses had shifted, and the floodgates had now been breached. He kept his wrist pressed firmly against his nose and reached down to grab his carry-on with his free hand; He had thrown a package of pocket tissues into it earlier, just in case, and was very glad to have done so. “Everything alright, hyung?” Namjoon asked a little warily, peeking at Seokjin out of the corner of his eye. “You seem a little…” “Everything’s fine, thanks.” Seokjin finished as Namjoon trailed off, “I justhh—hih!” His sentence caught in his throat abruptly as his breath suddenly hitched. He pressed his wrist into his nose harder, trying to squash the powerful itch that was quickly taking over, but to no avail. He gasped again once, twice, before attempting to stifle two rapid sneezes against his wrist. “hH’KITCh’uh!! ‘nKXT’Shhuh!” This time Namjoon closed his book as he watched Seokjin continue to dig through his carry-on urgently. “...Do you need tissues? Is that what you’re looking for? Because I ha—” “Hh! hHA’IGKSHHhiu!” “Oookay. Hey, hey, hey,” Namjoon set his book at his feet and reached out to bat Seokjin’s free hand away from his bag. “Stop, hyung. Here. Just—just take the whole thing.” He pulled a small pack of tissues from his pocket and nudged them into Seokjin’s forearm. “...Thanks.” Seokjin grumbled from behind his wrist. His voice sounded thick and croaky and he frowned to himself with a sniffle. “Catch a cold?” Seokjin sighed as he pulled a tissue from the packet. “Yeah, I think so.” He admitted, replacing his wrist with the tissue. After all the sneezing he’d done he doubted Namjoon would believe him if he tried to talk his way out of it, anyway. “Mmm, I’m sorry, hyung.” Namjoon murmured as Seokjin shifted in his seat to blow his nose. “I thought you seemed a little sluggish this morning but I just figured you didn’t sleep well.” Seokjin shrugged his shoulders in defeat and let out a long, drawn out sigh. He dropped his head against his seat back and brought his used, crumpled tissue up to press into the underside of his nose. “I’ll try to keep my distance.” He said with a small hum, turning his head to look at Namjoon. “Sorry you’re stuck sitting with me,” He added with an airy chuckle. “I don’t want you to catch this.” Namjoon immediately shook his head and placed a hand onto Seokjin’s forearm. “Don’t say things like that.” His voice was firm. “You shouldn’t be worrying about me right now. It’s okay to not be okay sometimes, hyung. It’s okay to ask for help. You do so much for us I just…” he paused for a moment, searching for the proper way to word his thoughts. “You should’ve told us you weren’t feeling well. Or at least me. I wish you knew you could lean on us when you need to.” Seokjin swallowed thickly. Namjoon was saying all of the things he himself normally would say to the others when they were being too stubborn or headstrong. It hadn’t really crossed his mind that he was doing the same thing he always encouraged the others not to do. Seokjin blew out a tired breath and sniffled wetly. “You know, Joon-ah…” he began after a moment, “You are a great leader.” He smiled at Namjoon and the other smiled back. “Thanks, hyung.” The leader’s tone was full of warmth and Seokjin immediately could feel himself relaxing into it. “Now, just get some rest, alright? I’ll make sure the others don’t get too loud. When we land I’ll head out for some medicine. Don’t worry, okay? I’ll take care of everything.” Seokjin swiped at the underside of his nose with a knuckle and gave a small nod in return. “Are you sure you don’t mind?” He asked, adjusting in his seat to get more comfortable. Namjoon reached out and placed a hand onto Seokjin’s knee.“Not at all.” He replied softly as Seokjin rested his head against the plane window. “Sleep well, hyung.”

#bts sickfic #sick!seokjin #mine #I hope this is okaaaaay #I'm so mf sorry this took me like weeks to write and it ended up being short #i also hope the ending is okay #ahhhhhh i am self conscious lol #bts snzfic #bts snz

42 notes · View notes

psyga315 · 4 years

Text

Prelude

With Volume 7 just beyond the horizon, I figured to look back at my thoughts for Volume 5 and, through more cooled down eyes, boil down why I consider it to be the worst volume of RWBY. When I wrote my review of Volume 5, it was literally the night the episode premiered, so I was boiling. But now? I’m going to look through the review with fresher eyes and clarify what sort of problems I had with RWBY.

First, a bit of backstory. There was an interview made during the summer in between Volumes 4 & 5 that had the cast say what sort of themes one could expect for Volume 5. Among these were stuff like “building yourself back up again”, “shouting ‘we’re not done here!’”, “solving problems on your own”, and lastly, from Barbara herself, “Strength” and “Growth”. For someone who was just starting to realize why people were turned off by the darkness of Volume 3, this was uplifting to say the least…

Shorts

The Character Shorts kinda hyped the Volume, though they sunk in their own way. Weiss’s Character Short effectively foreshadowed her loss to Vernal. This tough and talented girl gets her ass stomped rather quickly and needed to be bailed out. Winter’s line about how she “won’t be around to save her” was foreshadowing to her not actually being in the season, but when I first heard it, I thought she meant “Hey, I’m going to die this volume, lol!” and that’s without bringing up how the trailer fails to hype Weiss up like the other trailers did.

Blake’s Trailer was alright, especially in taking steps to address a problem regarding Menagerie, but it felt more like Ilia given the backstory dump we got that feels all the more like mandatory reading. The problem is that, and it’s perhaps the very first problem I’ve heard about RWBY, is that the trailers (and by extension, anything that’s a spin off of RWBY like World of Remnant) feel more like you need to watch this rather than you can watch this. It’s confusing, but let’s use Blake’s Short as an example.

Ilia talks about her backstory as it is contrasted with a chase between Blake and a random dude we never see again. Assuming you’ve never watched the trailer, you’d just get the truncated version of “MUH PARENTS ARE DEEEAAAD!” and not the bits where she was forced to resent her own race because it was easier to blend in to her surroundings, like a chameleon. It’s ironic, since RWBY would do the reverse problem with Adam, where his trailer isn’t mandatory but we barely get a backstory for him beyond “I got branded, but everyone will speculate that it’s because I did something bad and not that it drove me to do bad things”.

Lastly, there’s Yang’s short, which had the minor hiccup of contrasting what an interview said about running out of Aura means you can’t use your Semblance. The Aura thing is something that can be discussed for another day, but the basics you should take away from this is that, for some time, people didn’t know how running out of Aura is symbolized. Most people take the flickering as the signal as the next hit on those guys are usually the one that does them in. As such, you had this huge debate on what kind of flickering means Aura broken and what just meant Aura is low, which, personally, could have been avoided if the writers and/or animators just utilized that Aura dust thing (seen prominently in the Bumblebee vs Adam fight) as their definitive “aura broken” animation instead of just using it some of the time.

First Episode

The first episode proper promised a lot. In fact, a good chunk of the first half promised a lot. However, it became much clear in a second viewing that a lot of it was just padding at worst and showing us where the characters are at best. But what I think was done dirty the most in this episode was introducing Mistral. We were hyped in Volume 4 (thanks to World of Remnant) that Mistral was this dichotomy of rich, cultural people and the seedy underbelly of criminals and that, at least one of the elements would be utilized in Volume 5. Unfortunately, all we got were a few mat paintings that contrast what Lionheart was saying in regards to Mistral being in chaos.

And so, the most we get out of Mistral are those mat paintings and a perpetually raining downtown that we don’t see much of, even when it gets briefly revisited in Volume 6. We’re supposed to be invested in the city and yet all we get are empty rooms and 2D art. They took great steps to improve this in Volume 6 with Argus, though, so if there’s any consolation, it’s that they learned from their mistakes here.

But we now get into the biggest problem of why Volume 5 is disliked. Because of the situation, the group are left to basically wait until Lionheart convinces the council to get them some Huntsmen. The heroes. Wait. In a volume where the writers were talking about the themes of improving yourself and pulling through with your own strength.

Do you guys see the problem here? I know people have bitched about Volume 5 to hell and back and you’ve probably heard the complaints to high noon, but this entire issue is what rots Volume 5 to the core the most. Not the piss poor fight scenes, not the inconsistent characterizations, it’s that the plotting decides to take a back seat when the volume was meant to be about taking action.

As the episode goes on, you see the problem unfold. Ruby and friends hit a dead end until Oscar appears and has Ozpin exposit things to them, Weiss is denied a chance to save people and fight the Grimm until the Grimm come to her, Blake is hit with the dead end of the Albains deflecting blame, and Yang had the chance encounter with Bakugou where he knows the hideout of her mom.

The closest person who is taking action here is Yang, who established that she is actively looking for Ruby (technically Raven, but as we see later on, moot point). Blake’s situation is being handled by her dad, Weiss is sitting in the plane until the Grimm come for her, and Ruby is sitting on the couch that I’m pretty sure has her grooves molded into the cushion with how many times she’s sat there.

Episode 2

A minor complaint before we go to Episode 2, we had the Stinger repeat itself because the crew thought that people wouldn’t see the stingers. This is the show, mind you, that makes a point to include scenes at the end of every volume, regardless of how long they are or what point they serve in hyping the next Volume. Hell, one of the major complaints about Volume 2 was about the stinger not mattering. So why did they suddenly decide that the viewers might not see the stinger in a culture where the MCU exists?

Alright, cooling things down, we have three major scenes in Episode 2. Salem’s chat with Lionheart was meh at best and wtf at worst. I get the idea of Salem using different approaches to get people to do what she wants, but the cool aspect of Salem was that her approach was not what a villain would normally be. Instead of berating or choking her minions should they fail or talk back, Salem instead talks people down like she’s a mother to them. Even when Tyrian fails, she doesn’t hurt him, but rather tell him that he disappointed her. So, having her choke Lionheart, even when in hindsight it made some sense, is kinda an odd thing to do.

But not as odd as Salem’s whole “Not you, Arthur” bit. A lot of people drew points to that and the best I can explain is that it’s either a typo (she’s meant to say not yet or not now) or Arthur and Watts are some sort of Jekyll & Hyde thing. Unfortunately, it seems Watts is more a parallel to Watson rather than Jekyll, so that brings me to believe that it’s a typo and so, rather than have an easy explanation for a problem, we just have a compounded problem. One of many.

And there’s something funny to be said about Salem warning Cinder about Silver Eyes when Ruby barely learns about it this Volume. And also that she wants to speak with Tyrian but we never see what comes of it. At all.

I only have one new thing about Weiss vs. the Bees. Originally, the pilot was supposed to be gay, but held off on it because they’d be killing off their first revealed gay character, something that wouldn’t look good to the fanbase. Now, while I understand the reason behind it, I have to question the logic behind why they think it isn’t okay for their first LGBT character to be offed, but instead be someone who seemed okay with murdering her crush’s parents while sending said crush to her abuser.

But more on that later, we have Sienna to discuss. Now, there’s a lot to dissect. For one, RT has obviously realized that they’ve messed up and brought Sienna back for a bit (while taking the heat for “if she’s so badass, why did she go out like a chump”). However, in hindsight, what purpose did she actually serve outside of some cute nod to Shere Khan?

All she did was tell Adam that he’s going too far and that’s it. And really, it just seems hypocritical for the leader of the White Fang to effectively restructure the organization into a terrorist group, murder tons of people, and then suddenly back away and say “woah, too much” when Adam proceeded to help torch Beacon. It’s to the point where one question most people want to ask at cons is “did Sienna order the hit out on the SDC”, since we don’t actually know and that it could be a radical leader of that quadrant like Adam.

It felt more like Sienna should have been just the leader of Mistral’s White Fang faction instead of ruling over all the White Fang, which would make more sense as Adam would need permission to attack a kingdom that isn’t his stomping ground. Then there’s the introduction of Hazel, who at first is presented to be a pretty decent character, not wanting to kill people if he had no choice, but as time goes on, is basically your stock “big soft guy with a secret hulk side” character.

Unfortunately, this episode didn’t help enforce the theme of taking action when it’s the villains who are doing it and seeming to be two if not twenty steps ahead of the heroes.

Episode 3

Episode 3 has that whole speech thing I overlooked. Barring Ghira’s speech that the crew said is based off Obama’s “we killed Osama” speech (which, if it is, paints the whole situation of Sienna’s death in a rather dark light) before Ilia interferes. Now, I actually liked that Menagerie is hesitant to stand up for Haven. After all, humans hated their guts so much that the island was originally planned to be a place where people could dump Faunus on. There were lynchings and enslavements that are still going on to this day, just in subtler forms, Of course the Faunus wouldn’t want to fight.

Then Ilia swoops in and robs Blake of any agency she has with the scene. If RT wanted to not let Blake convince the people until three quarters to the end, they should have cut the subtlety and have some annoying kid go “IT’S TOO EARLY IN THE PLOT TO DO YOUR SPEECH!”. Hell, let Blake tell her story about her team, but the audience balks at the fact that she’s not only friends with a Schnee, but also a human who crippled a guy on live television. Remember that plot point?

We then cut to Oscar and this is perhaps the reason I decided to do this revisit of Volume 5. The way Ozpin talks of action and resolve, it felt like we’re going to the root of the themes of taking action. No more being subject to the events of the plot like in previous Volumes. Now? Now is the time to fight back! And that built up to… what? One training scene and Ruby learning headbutt?

Granted, we see later on that there was a bit more to the plan, but for the most part, it seemed like an excuse for “character growth” as opposed to actual character growth. A training arc isn’t just some short scenes of a person lifting weights and jogging up stairs. Its meant to be a sort of means of growth for the character. There’s a reason most training montages have the character suck at first, but then get better by the time the montage ends. It’s because it’s the quickest way to show growth. But even without that, you could get some serious mileage for a pulled off training arc.

Rocky IV and Star Wars: The Empire Strikes Back have some good examples of it. Rocky IV had the titular hero train and work out in the middle of a cold, mountainous range, while his opponent is simply given steroids. It shows the dichotomy between the two and how they view their eventual fight. Empire, on the other hand, had that masterful scene with Luke in the cave, where he has a huge moment of both foreshadowing and character growth.

Here? We just have Ruby learn headbutt like she’s nothing more than a Pokemon. There could have been a lot more done with it, like having Ruby put a lot more force in her punches, causing others to realize she’s extremely angry about what happened to Pyrrha and Penny, or, if the need to exposit about Semblances is needed, bring something new to the table that isn’t going to confuse the fuck out of people… Something like:

“Your Semblance might not reveal itself until you need it most” or something like that. Not “A semblance is someone’s personality, but not. Wow! Exposition!” or “Hey, remember how we said Aura was passive? Welp, not anymore!”

Not to mention that Jaune is seemingly cool with Ozpin suddenly coming back from the dead. Here’s the thing, last Volume had him upset with Ozpin about what happened to Pyrrha, something that didn’t seemed to resolve itself. Keep in mind that, for all rights and merits, Jaune believed Ozpin to have died. In fact, it was that confirmation that Ozpin had lost against Cinder that convinced Pyrrha to kill herself. Now here he is, seemingly stuck in the body of another kid and he just outright said this is a normal thing for him.

You’d expect him to have something more than “golly!”. The fact that he didn’t seem to have any aggression towards Ozpin until after he ran to his hidey hole in Volume 6 seems rather odd given that his entire character is that he’s angsting about Pyrrha and angry at Cinder for what she did. The group seem rather content to just sit back and let the plot happen, which is the opposite of what the crew was trying to convey with their themes.

Episode 4 and Episode 5

I still stand by what I said regarding how Episode 4 was a good episode, finally having a reunion between two members of Team RWBY, but it’s perhaps one of the last good things about RWBY we’ll ever see in Volume 5. Because Raven’s promise to tell Yang “the whole truth” turns out to just be regurgitated exposition at worst.

But first, we need to have Blake, the woman who doesn’t want her race to be labeled, turn out to have labels for her friends. Okay, granted, it’s not that dumb but it is kinda patronizing that we need to have a character tell us what another character is. While the rest of her speech is pretty effective in defining Blake’s character, making her perhaps the only character these themes of growth and strength actually apply to, it still is annoying that the most we take away out of this is her boiling down every character to a single word, then bringing up how Adam is going to ruin everything for the Faunus. You’ll see why this is a problem later. I liked the setting of Menagerie’s Shallow Sea marketplace thing and felt like Menagerie is wasted potential.

Ruby’s whole speech still feels like damage control, but with the added complaint of Ruby deciding to blame Salem for something Cinder did. Now, I heard the common excuse a lot: “Salem told Cinder to do it so it’s all her fault”, but that problem with that? Cinder told Emerald to kill Penny. So… Yeah. It is her fault. Hell, I wouldn’t have minded this if Ruby didn’t word it like Salem personally killed Penny and Pyrrha. Like as in, she just up and appeared out of nowhere and shot both Penny and Pyrrha in the head.

It still doesn’t fix the fact that Ruby is basically “hey, remember how I’m supposed to be upset?”

Lastly for Episode 5, we have the White Fang do the brilliant plant of murdering the chieftain who just spoke out against them. It’s dumb. Extremely dumb. What the hell do they think will happen after they murder the chieftain in cold blood? Menagerie is just gonna magically bend over and obey the White Fang? But perhaps the biggest waste is the White Fang in general.

You have these two sneaky fox brothers who seemingly oversee everything and even state that they’re only letting Adam do what he wants until he’s no longer of use to them, a buff bat dude, and a spider-lady… And they’re never seen again after this Volume. I get the idea, because RT is trying to wrap up the Faunus subplot as quickly as possible, but the problem that you can’t exactly introduce new characters or hidden depths if you’re just gonna throw them out with the bath water.

If they wanted to end the subplot, why did they put all the effort in some random characters that are just gonna be defeated off screen with a tea tray? Then again, this is a problem endemic to RWBY. Introduce this character, then quickly shoo them away before you’re committed to writing a plot for them. If you know you were going to half-ass the White Fang conclusion, why bother with stuff like more White Fang members or the SDC brand? In fact, why bother with the White Fang to begin with if you’re going to do so little with them?

Episode 6

Moving on before I lose my cool, we have Qrow aimlessly walking around downtown Mistral. Now, the crew said that Maria was supposed to be here… But… Why? What purpose would she serve? If she’s just gonna be a “hey, look, cameo to foreshadow Volume 6”, then that’s a horrible purpose. You know how most Cinematic Universes tanked because they spent more time hyping the next twenty movies when they should focus on their pilot? That’s what she would have been like.

Not to mention that she would have been caught in the crossfire of why Volume 5 was bad. “So here we have this random old lady who doesn’t matter at all to the plot so why is she even there” and then “Oh wow, she’s a SEW. They’re doing damage control to justify her unneeded presence in Volume 5”. And, don’t get me wrong, Maria is a fun lady and all that, but there needs to be a reason she was there beyond “hype for next Volume”.

What makes the problem worse was that they’re planning to include Maria so as to have a sort of Yoda to teach Ruby. This makes the complaint of “why didn’t Ruby ask about the Silver Eyes” even more of a complaint because now it seems like they decided “hey, we’re going to address it next volume, so let’s not bother bringing it up here”. Which is even worse than “hey, people noticed we didn’t address this so let’s completely invent this character for the sole purpose of addressing it!”

And then there’s Raven who is all “lol, I know more than you realize but I’m not actually gonna answer anything trolololololol” AARHG!

Okay. Okay. Before I completely lose my marbles, there’s one thing about the scene with Raven that’s stupid.

It’s the “there’s no such thing as magic” thing.

Okay. I get it. Turning into a bird is something that, in the world of RWBY, seems impossible. But there’s a ton of problems with this:

What makes summoning dead Grimm to fight for you so much more different than magic?

You’re willing to believe in magic rocks that augment your fighting style and are in fact part of a company that profits off magic rocks, yet turning into a bird is the messed up thing?

The guy who gave her this ability is currently inhabiting the body of a young boy and has said to basically devour his soul in due time, as well as create the magic that’s responsible for torching your school and your friend… And the BIRD is the most messed up thing!?

“But Raven made it sound like she was forced into it”. She didn’t seem to have any fucking problem with it though. Not only that, but it didn’t seem like a big dark secret that Ozpin wouldn’t want uncovered. In fact, he even said he gave Qrow and Raven the ability to turn into birds in an amused way.

Even more so when everyone but Yang seemed to respond to it with disbelief rather than outright anger. There’s a reason this whole bird issue was made fun of in Jello’s “So This is Basically RWBY” video.

Also, before we move onto Episode 7, I wanna bring up that the scene where Qrow visits the Shields is perhaps the reason why I hold Ozpin’s censorship of Lionheart’s role in the Battle of Haven to be one of the most scumbag moves he could have made. “Your mom’s dead, but don’t worry, the guy who sold her out is a hero!”

Episodes 7-10

Right, back to Episode 7. Okay, I’ll admit, it was a nice reunion scene all things considered, albeit with some rather unnerving things like Yang asking Weiss if she let the Boarbatusk skewer the trophy wife or even the dumb, patronizing “we haven’t made character arcs for us to go through so I’ll just say we had some”, since they had the great idea to use Ren, who is voiced by Monty’s brother, as the mouthpiece for that.

Unfortunately, this is the episode I always think back to when I think of Volume 5. The perfect epitome of a slow, monotonous Volume. The problem I have is that, yeah, it’s meant to be this breather episode, a calm before the storm, but this just feels like a long lull that’s made even more insulting with the cliffhanger. All it has is people dumping exposition that viewers have either figured out or weren’t even burning questions and I think the awkward silence that followed Ozpin saying how he was the wizard that gave the Maidens his power is the perfect epitome for just how boring the volume is. The dude just revealed a massive plot twist and it’s treated as nothing more than a “did you know” factoid.

While I liked how they addressed that Blake leaving Yang would have had some serious negative emotions in Yang, it felt rather half-assed that they basically resolved it with “hey, my mom’s drunk, so shut up and accept Blake the moment she comes back”, especially since it comes from Weiss, who told Blake at the end of Volume 1 that if she ever runs away again, she best let RWBY know. If they wanted to ship Bumblebee so badly, this would have been a great hurdle for them to come across instead of just “hey, let me resolve this plot for you”.

Now, the whole thing with Ilia… Let’s get the elephant out of the way. The way they revealed her sexuality, I feel, could have been done better. “You wanna know why I’m gonna kill your parents and bring you to your abuser? Because I wanted you to look at me like a lover!” There’s a reason why some fans label her as a “psycho lesbian”.

However, I want to bring up that Rooster Teeth did an excellent job at building tension during the climax of the Menagerie Arc. Sure, the cliffhangers were tiresome, but you couldn’t help but admit you were at the edge of your seat and it even did a good job at subversion. Even if they allegedly didn’t even intend for it to happen.

The constant dryness of exposition and dialogue exchanges is what made Episode 10 so much better than the other episodes. Not just because it’s action-orientated, but because it finally tries to get back to the themes that it was originally supposed to tell. Throughout the entirety of the middle portion of Volume 5, the group basically took a backseat and allowed characters and plots to happen to them rather than advocate for themselves. The closest thing we got to the theme of “building yourself back up” is Weiss talking to Yang about Blake.

In fact, the only actual characters taking action are the villains. Constantly roadblocking the cast, setting them in for a trap, and even aiming to screw each other over. These guys have more advocacy and agency than the main characters. The most any of them did was…

Burn down their own house and blamed everyone else for it, all while saying that the house is the message Adam wants to send.

Use a girl’s unrequited feelings towards them to their advantage, straddle them, and guilt tripped her enough for her to consider switching sides.

Cry about how things are not going their way until their hands start magically glowing.

Yelling at someone until they cry bitch tears and then have them run away without even bothering to close the door leading to the dangerous artifact everyone had been working so hard to keep out of enemy hands.

In the volume where the theme is “solving problems on our own”. Just because Yang drops the word strength a few times when bitching out at Raven doesn’t mean that the theme had been accomplished. In fact, they do nothing of their own accord and just follow a script. Even Ozpin, the supposed smartest guy in all of Remnant, doesn’t even bother to figure out a way to counter the trap. Just instead walk in. Hell, if Yang didn’t spot Raven, they’d be mulched.

But, back on track. Episode 9 was an entire waste that failed to pay off the expectations of what we had with the cliffhanger set up in Episode 7. “But it subverted your ex-” NO. There’s a good way to subvert expectations and being promised a fight after episodes of bland exposition only to have it be “lol, no, it’s just gonna be more talking” is not a good subversion.

No. Here’s a better way. Set up the cliffhanger like normal, but don’t show Cinder’s dragged out negotiation with Raven. Instead, have her “allying” with Cinder be a twist. That way, people’s expectations for what happened are actually, you know, subverted?

The Battle of Haven

But, you know where this is leading to… The Battle of Haven. Really, I don’t think I can say anything that hasn’t been covered by someone else. We all know it makes all the Vytal fights look like masterpieces by comparison, we all know the jokes about useless Weiss or Lionheart hogging the staircase, or even the plot holes of Raven knowing Cinder’s arm being Grimm but doing nothing about it or Blake, despite spending the past volume saying how Adam must be stopped, suddenly doesn’t care about him…

So let me cut it simply:

The reason this battle sucks might have to do with the crunch.

We don’t know how long this issue with Rooster Teeth had been going on for, but if it is indeed what people say it is and that animators don’t get paid for the last quarter or third of their work, then that might explain all the cut corners animators and writers made. Why the fights are broken up into one on ones or why fights are cut out entirely. Maybe they weren’t getting paid enough and thus, the quality of RWBY suffered as a result of it.

And that’s perhaps the shittiest thing about the Battle of Haven. It could have been this epic fight that would have made up for all the boring, drawn out scenes of exposition and chatting, but because Rooster Teeth got too greedy or even because of our own impatience (which, again, isn’t helped by the aforementioned long, drawn out scenes), we are treated to a final battle so broken and tiresome that the Battle of Winterfell manages to be a better final battle, with the only thing holding it back being that Haven had a better identity twist.

And if, for whatever reason, it isn’t due to crunch issues, then we have another problem. This was meant to be this hyped up rematch between the heroes and villains, who haven’t seen each other since the latter ruined the lives of the former. This would have been excellent to see how the killers of Jaune and Ruby’s friends would interact with them, how Yang would react to the person who framed her, even how the group had grown since their last battle…

But… if crunch wasn’t to blame for the quality dip and the writers intended for the fight to go the way it went… I have to say… What the fuck were they thinking!? So many moments could have been brought up here and yet they decided that they weren’t important enough to focus on! And now, with this battle over and done with, those moments lost their luster. If they decide to bring them up, it’d be too little, too late at best and “why the fuck are you bringing this up now” at worst.

I’ll deal with one commonly used example to get what I mean. Adam was established in Volume 3 to be a threat only made strong because he uses Blake’s emotions against her and has a Semblance that lets him dish out aura-breaking damage. Blake easily defeats Adam and has him on the ropes, only to let him run with a few excuses that some people have debated to death and back, when it would have been much easier for Blake to have to choose between apprehending Adam and helping Yang. Then, when he inevitably returns to haunt Blake next volume, suddenly he’s a threat that Blake is afraid of again despite Blake having “grown” to oppose him.

They wanted that “triumph” over him, but realize that by doing so, they’ve burned that opportunity to have the triumph be meaningful. Same goes with Emerald and Mercury. They had a good opportunity for Ruby to effectively call them out for their crimes like how Jaune did to Cinder, but instead she just headbutts Mercury. Yang had at least some closure on her arc with Mercury, but it was meh.

The Point in All of This

Hell, speaking of wasted opportunities, the reunion of Team RWBY, something that the opening had hyped and one that the fans had been waiting for since Volume 3 ended, is nothing more than an afterthought. They couldn’t even be assed to show Blake’s first fight back with Ruby and Weiss. That’s how little they cared. It’s like everyone was just wanting to get that paycheck but they needed to rush that final episode out the door and also need to make room for Gen:Lock and Nomad trailers. They didn’t even care about the stinger, as they basically ignored any sort of information relating to the stinger.

Perhaps the biggest reason why Volume 5 sucked so hard was that it was running off the heels of Volume 3. Everyone basically accepted that Volume 4 was meant to be a breather Volume, with lower stakes and lower drama (with the exception of possible death flags for Ren and Nora), but the moment they made Volume 5 the grudge match everyone wanted, then the stakes got raised back to the heights of the third Volume, only for it to fail to live up to the expectations. Sorry, I think I mean to say “subvert the expectations” in this day and age.

Though, I think the huge problem with all of this, and perhaps the biggest bottom line I can say, is that it might be due to Volume 3 going too over the edge. By killing important characters and even dividing the team, the villains had raised stakes up so high, that people began to take the show more seriously. When characters were vaguely hinted to die, be it through threats from the villains or even flashbacks, people fretted that they would die. When the villains go back to striking distance with the heroes, people desired a grand battle. When the show tried to deal with the ramifications that happened with RWBY separating, people wanted to know what was going through the characters’ heads.

And when Volume 5 failed to deliver/“subverted their expectations”, people considered it a bad volume.

But worst of all, it failed to live up to its own themes. Jaune was the only person to build himself back up again through deus ex hands, and we saw next Volume that it needed a statue for him to feel better. No one was in a position of giving up only to be defiant and shout “we’re not done here”, but instead cry “it wasn’t supposed to be like this!”. The big problem of Volume 5, make sure the relic is secure, is only solved because two characters had a catfight in the basement and the survivor didn’t bother to lock up because their daughter was too busy bitching at her. No one really grew or strengthened their resolve. The triumph… wasn’t theirs to have.

Although, it seems Rooster Teeth had learned from their mistakes, with Volume 6 being leaps and bounds better than Volume 5, regardless of what you thought of the latter half. Best of all, the themes promised in Volume 5 were shown prominently in Volume 6, albeit some of the scenes capitalizing on those themes feeling more like a child is having a tantrum because they couldn’t have the airplane.

To close out this rather long winded discussion, and to give people a tl;dr on the whole matter, Volume 5 failed to address the themes it had presented and instead just padded itself out, expecting people to accept it because it’s RWBY.

#RWDE #RWBY #Volume 5

8 notes · View notes