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wiypt-writes · 4 years ago

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Stark Spangled Banner

Stab Me In The Front Part 2: Knives Out, Bitch.

Intro: Katie heads out to speak to Harlan, and encounters Ransom for the second time in as many days. It ends about as well as the first time…

Warnings: Bad language. SMUT (NSWFW)

Pairing: Steve Rogers x OFC Katie Stark

Disclaimer: This is a pure work of fiction and classified as 18+. Please respect this and do not read if you are underage. I do not own any characters in this series bar Katie Stark and the other OCs. By reading beyond this point you understand and accept the terms of this disclaimer.

A/N: I love these edits again. Well played, @angrybirdcr

Part 1

Stark Spangled Banner Masterlist // Main Masterlist

Katie groaned and fluffed up her hair in front of the floor length mirror. She’d chosen a simple long sleeved, turtle-necked grey woollen jersey dress teamed with a black belt, black tights and knee high tan boots wanting to appear smart yet casual for the setting at Harlan’s mansion. But for once it wasn’t her outfit or appearance that was causing her anguish.

“Have you decided if you’re gonna mention the whole Ransom thing?” Steve asked as he wandered back into the bedroom munching on another piece of toast from the tray of breakfast items they’d had delivered earlier.

Katie snorted and locked yes with him in the mirror. “Oh yeah, can you imagine? Mr Thrombey, your grandson is an asshole. In fact, he isn’t just an asshole he’s the asshole, he’s America’s asshole…”

Steve chuckled as he dropped onto the bed “You might not have a choice if he’s already told him what went down.”

“You mean how you threw him over the bar?” She raised an eyebrow as she leaned forward to check her make up. Steve dropped his head and sighed.

“I’m sorry but, well I’m not having anyone speak to you or about you like that.”

“Well, I think we both know your alpha male display turned me on just a little.” Katie smirked at him, and he grinned as he recalled how things had taken a very steamy turn when they’d gotten back to their room before he took a deep breath.

“I’m sorry, I really hope I haven’t screwed anything up.”

“If Harlan had heard and was going to cancel he would have done it by now. I’ll just go and see what happens.” Katie turned round and stepped into the space between Steve’s legs and his hands gently gripped her hips.

“You sure you don’t want me to drive you?”

“No, I’m okay.” She smiled, dropping a kiss to his mouth, her hands resting on his shoulders. “I’ll text you when I’m there and then when we’re done.”

Steve smiled, he was pleased she was feeling happy enough to take herself, this was a big step in her healing process.

Even if he knew he’d be on tenterhooks the whole time she was gone…

“Alright.” He nodded. “I’m gonna go exploring, see the sights.” “Captain America playing tourist.”She grinned and he chuckled slightly, his hands sliding down to gently squeeze her ass.

“When in Rome.” he shrugged, “Or this case Boston. By the way sweetheart, your ass looks great in this dress.” “What is it you say to me?” she laughed, her hands sliding round to remove his from her rear, her fingers lacing into his “It’s all yours, baby.” “Damned right.” He practically growled as she turned and headed into the sitting room area of their suite. Steve followed her, leaning on the doorframe and simply watching as she shrugged on her pea jacket that was resting over the back of the sofa. She picked up her laptop, checked her bag and wrapped a scarf around her neck.

“Walk you down to the car?” Steve asked, and she turned to face him smiling.

“Yeah, I’d like that.”

****

The drive out to the Thrombey mansion was actually very pleasant. Katie enjoyed the scenery as she drove and soon enough was pulling up the large, tree lined drive and came to a halt. She stepped out, grabbed her bag and took in the mansion in front of her, giving a low whistle. It appealed to her love of all things old fashioned and gothic. Old and red brick, surrounded by scenery and stone figurines it was exactly the kind of home one would expect a Crime author to own.

She text Steve to say she had arrived and was safe and as she made her way towards the door, two large German Shepherd dogs bounded towards her. She paused for a second, allowing them to sniff at her, their tails wagging and she bent down, scratching one behind the ears.

“Oh aren’t you handsome boys!” she grinned, as she continued to pet them.

“Excellent judges of character, too.” a female voice said. Katie looked up to see a dark haired woman stood on the steps by the front door.

“They’re gorgeous.” Katie beamed, straightening up. “I’d love a dog but, well, we don’t really have time for one.” “I can imagine your line of work is a little hectic.” the lady smiled as Katie approached “I’m Fran, Mr Thrombey’s house keeper.”

“It’s nice to meet you Fran, I’m Katie.”

Fran smiled and stepped back to allow Katie to step through the large, wooden doors which opened into a huge hallway, which was grandly decorated just like something straight out of one of Harlan’s books. Katie looked around, taking it all in, before Fran spoke to her again.

“Mr Thrombey is finishing off a call. Can I offer you a drink whilst you’re waiting?”

“I wouldn’t say no to a coffee.” Katie nodded, removing her scarf. Fran took it from her, along with her coat and hung them up on a stand by the door before she gestured for Katie to follow her. They walked down a hallway which was lined with dark, panelled wood that opened up into a large, kitchen diner.

“How do you take it, Mrs Rogers?”

But before Katie could respond, the dogs outside began once more to bark, only this time Katie could tell they were agitated. Fran gave an audible sigh, and the source of her frustration was evident as the back door blustered open.

“Oh shut the fuck up!” a familiar drawl was yelling back over the grounds and Katie felt herself stiffen slightly. Ransom barrelled into the kitchen from the mud room, his open tan coat flapping behind him. There was a multi-coloured silk scarf hanging around his neck and he was wearing a blue sweater which was slightly frayed on the hem, a far contrast from the sharp suit he had been dressed in last night. He cast his eyes around and stopped dead, a snarl playing on his face.

“You?”

There was a pause and Katie sighed, summonsing every single bit of professionalism “Good morning Mr Drysdale.”

Ransom snorted “Mr Drysdale now, that’s not what you were calling me last night was it? I was a self-entitled dick, wasn’t I?”

Fran gave a snort which she hastily turned into a cough and Ransom shot her a glare.

“Well in my defence you did call me a hooker.” Katie shrugged, taking attention off the housekeeper.

There was a moment of silence before Ransom broke the stare he was giving her and turned back to Fran.

“You got my cookies, Franny?”

“In the usual cupboard Hugh.”

“Hugh?” Katie frowned. “I thought your name was Ransom.” “It is.” Ransom, or Hugh said as he made his way to a cupboard and pulling out a packet of Lotus Biscoff. He leaned against the counter and popped one in his mouth, eyeing Katie up and down. “Only the help call me Hugh.”

Katie couldn’t help the disdain that crept across her face at his tone. He really was an insufferable jerk.

“Really? Hugh to the help and Ransom to others?” She looked at him, “What do the dogs call you?”

“I dunno, go ask them. I mean you do speak dog don’t you, being one?”

“Wow did you think of that all by yourself?” Katie rolled her eyes at his childishness “Guess your time at Harvard really served you well.”

“How did you know I went to Harvard?” He frowned.

“Isn’t’ that where all the spoilt little, trust fund babies go?” She smiled at him. Truth be told she’d had FRIDAY look him up the previous night but she wasn’t about to admit that.

“Yeah and where was your brilliant education then?” He shoved another cookie in his mouth.

“Oxbridge.” She shot back. Ransom paused, arching an eyebrow.

“What are you doing here anyway?” He said after a moment, clearly unable to think of anything smart to say about her choice of University.

“Mrs Rogers here is the Owner and CEO of Stark Independent Publishers and they’re going to be publishing The Colour of Revenge.” A deep voice said from the doorway. Katie turned to see Harlan walking into the kitchen, his eyes fixed on his grandson. “And whilst she is in this house on my invitation she is a guest, so you could do well to remember your manners.” Ransom looked at him, blinked, then threw his head back in a huge roar of laughter. “Wait. You have your own company, and you’re using another to publish your next book?”

“Yes Ransom, that’s correct.”

“Oh that…that is fucking priceless!” Ransom continued to laugh “I can’t wait for you to tell Walt.”

Now Katie was utterly confused. There was clearly some fucked-up family dynamic at play, and she was even more puzzled when Ransom stepped towards her, offering her a cookie from the packet.

“You poisoned them?” Katie looked at him, and he rolled his eyes.

“I’m eating them ain’t I?”

“Fair point.” She shrugged taking one “Thanks.” “You’re welcome, Sweetheart. Anyone that helps piss off my shit head family can share my food.” He said, and with that he blustered out in as dramatic a fashion as he’d entered, his laughter following him down the hall.

“You should be honoured.” Harlan turned to face Katie “He doesn’t normally give those out, they’re his favourites.”

“Yeah, without meaning to speak out of turn he doesn’t strike me as the type to share.”

Harlan chuckled and crossed the room, holding out his hand. Katie shook it, smiling. “It’s a pleasure to meet you finally Mrs Rogers.”

“And you too Mr Thrombey.”

“I told you on the phone, please, call me Harlan.”

“As long as you call me Katie.” she shot back and he nodded.

“Sure I can manage that, Fran, dear, we’ll take the drinks in my study.”

“Of course Mr Thrombey, I’ll bring them through.”

Katie followed Harlan out of the kitchen.

“I’m sorry about my grandson.” he looked back at her

“Don’t be. We err, we actually met last night. He was in my hotel bar…”

“Let me guess, you didn’t particularly get on then either.” “There were a few words traded, yes.” Katie nodded, before she sighed, deciding to be honest. “Actually, there were more than words traded. Steve, my husband, kinda got in a bit of an altercation with him. I was a little worried you wouldn’t want to do business if you had heard about it.”

Harlan chuckled as he led her down the corridor and to the right. “If I refused to do business with everyone Ransom had pissed off I’d have a problem. But that aside, he hadn’t mentioned it. Although, I haven’t seen him since he stormed out of here yesterday after a disagreement with his mother and his cousin. He likes to flounce does Ransom, he has a flair for the dramatic. If you don’t mind me asking what did he say to you?” Katie explained as they walked, Harlan letting out a groan.

“On his behalf, I apologise.” He shook his head, opening a door and allowing her to step into the large study.

“It’s fine, I gave as good as I got.” She smiled and Harlan laughed.

“I don’t doubt that for a second Mrs Rogers” He closed the door. “Now, please take a seat and we can talk business.”

**** An hour later Katie was feeling a lot more at ease. Harlan was an easy man to talk to. He was firm, but fair, and as such had approved the cover designs, and accepted all but 6 of the amendments the Editing team had proposed to this manuscript. As a result, she was feeling a lot more confident about the pitch regarding her Charity idea, knowing full well that he wouldn’t simply dismiss the idea was spurring her on.

“So as we agreed Mr Thrombey.” Katie said, sliding the first piece of paper over to him “Your royalties on the print edition will be 9% of the cover price for the first 5,000 copies, 10% on the next 5,000 and 12% thereafter…and for the E-book edition 25% of the sales revenue. You can see from our forecasts what we anticipate this will bring you.”

Harlan took the paper and gave it a quick glance over before nodding “How have you come up with the forecast sales numbers?”

“We based it on your last 3 novels, plus the level of pre-orders we have had. And, without wanting to sound too big headed, SIP attracts a lot of attention given who…” she felt herself blush slightly “Who I am so we tend to make a lot of sales on the back of that, which to be fair in this case isn’t a bad thing.” “In this case?” Harlan frowned at her.

“Yes, errr.” She swallowed again, shifting slightly “SIP is donating 100% of its revenue on your book to charity, although we haven’t made that public yet. I wanted to talk to you about it before we release anything to the press.”

“Charity?”

“Yes, several to be exact. We’re going to split it across organisations that help victims of sexual abuse, rape and other violent sexually motivated crimes.”

“That’s very commendable.” Harlan leaned back in his chair “And I take it that’s because of the subject matter?” “That’s one reason.” She nodded, hesitantly.

“And the other?” The old man pressed, his hands steeping together in front of his chin as his elbows rested on the large mahogany desk.

Katie hesitated, before she bit her lip and took a deep breath as she looked at the man who was studying her intently. For some reason, she felt she could trust him so decided to tell him the whole story. “It’s fairly well known that last year I was missing for a number of weeks but the circumstances were never revealed. In reality, Harlan, I was, erm, held captive.” She paused to clear her throat “I was taken by an organisation who thought by torturing me I’d reveal certain information to them, information I didn’t actually have. When the usual methods of interrogation failed, well, I’m sure you don’t need me to fill in the gaps.”

Harlan’s face softened and he let out a sigh. “I’m sorry to hear that, I truly am.” “So yeah, there’s an element of it being personal in there.” She swallowed. “I didn’t know myself that half of these support charities existed until a year ago and to me it’s more about the awareness, that people who find themselves in the position I did understand that there are people out there to help.”

Harlan nodded “How do you intend on using the book to do that?” “Well, with your permission, ”Katie said, turning her laptop round to face him, to show him the various mock ups she had produced, “I’d like to include a foreword in your book, a little bit about why we have chosen to do what we are doing, so that everyone who buys a copy sees it. You have a huge established audience Harlan, and that kind of publicity is just something that no amount of money can buy. I’d also like to include a tagline about how the proceeds will be helping people in the advertising material and on the front cover.” “Will you be writing the foreword?” Harlan looked at her.

Katie nodded. “You’ll of course be sent a copy before it is finalised to ensure you’re happy with it.”

“I think it’s a wonderful idea.” Harlan smiled “I’m happy to be part of it. And in light of what you’ve said, I’d also be happy to wave my royalties and also donate those to the cause.”

“Oh, no, that’s not…” Katie began to protest but Harlan shut her down.

“I don’t need the money.” he shook his head “All I ask is that you make it work. You clearly have a passion about this Katie, and for good reason. Frankly I’m blown away by the courage you’ve displayed here today by telling me this. There are a lot of people out there in privileged positions that could take a leaf out of your book my dear.”

Katie felt her eyes misting over and she blinked, looking away. Harlan passed her the box of tissues and she took one with a weak laugh.

“Sorry.” she smiled “I’ve just, well, no one knows what happened bar my inner circle so to speak.”

“It won’t go any further.” Harlan looked at her “I can assure you of that” Katie smiled, before she looked at the man, and her smile slid into a cheeky smirk. “Seeing as I’ve been honest with you, can you be honest with me?”

“Of course.”

“You have your own Publishing company, they’ve done all of your books for the last 25 years. Why have you chosen SIP for this one?”

Harlan sat back, sighing before he gave her a small smile “Because for the last 25 years my son has done nothing but ride on my tails. He likes to give Ransom a lot of stick for simply living off my money but he is no better. You see, I set the publishers up so he could make something of it, I didn’t expect him to simply sit there and use my books alone. Thought it was time he had a wake-up call.”

Katie gave a grin “I see now why Ransom was so amused.”

“Yeah, Walt won’t be best pleased…” Harlan said, “He’ll be even less so when he realises I’m giving my royalties away on this completely. Now, please permit me one last question before we finish.” “Sure.” “You’re the owner and CEO of SIP.” She nodded.

“Do you always visit potential authors or is this visit purely down to the fact this book means something personal to you?”

“There is that, and, well, honestly? I’m just a huge fan of your work.” she grinned “Owning and running your own business should have some self-indulgent perks after all, right?”

They spent 15 minutes or so tying up the final bits and pieces before Harlan walked her to the door, helping her into her coat.

“It’s been a pleasure.” He smiled, shaking her hand again.

“Same here.” she grinned “And thank you again. We’ll be in touch when we’re ready to go to press. It shouldn’t be too long. I’m hoping to hold the big launch early in November. Maybe hold some charity event, I’ll let you know.” “Of course, anything I can do to help…”

There was a pause as a loud engine sounded and they both turned to see a vintage silver BMW skid to a halt on the driveway driven by Ransom. He climbed out, his long legs stretching in front of him as he glanced over to the pair of them.

“I see he’s been out for his usual lunch appointment.” Harlan remarked. “Such a hard life.”

Katie laughed and with that she headed down the steps towards her car.

“Leaving so soon?” Ransom asked as she passed him.

“Work is done for the day so yeah,” she shrugged

“If you have all that money, why do you bother?”

Katie stopped and turned to him. “Because I’ve never had it handed to me on a plate.” She replied, honestly “One thing my brother instilled into me was that you have to work for things in life. Yes, I’ve had opportunities that most people wouldn’t but I’m eternally grateful for those and do this to prove that.”

“And the Avenging?” He asked. “Humour me, I’m curious.”

“I like to help people. It is what it is.” She shrugged.

“Putting your life on the line to help people with no thanks.” He shook his head. “I don’t get it.”

“I wouldn’t expect you to.” she shook her head, “But, I just remind myself that for every one person that’s like you, there are a hundred other people who actually deserve it so…” “Eat shit.” Ransom drawled, rolling his eyes.

“Fuck you.” Katie’s usual insult flew off her tongue easily, and she inwardly groaned knowing full well she’d given him an opening. And sure enough, the anticipated response came her way.

“If you’re offering.”

“Oh, believe me Mr Drysdale, I wouldn’t sleep with you if you were the last person on Earth.

“You wouldn’t be doing much sleeping.” he smirked, “And you’re forgetting something.”

“Oh pray, do enlighten me.” She said sarcastically. “You’re the one that mistook me for your husband, sweet cheeks. I’d say you must find something attractive about me.” “Don’t flatter yourself, you’re nothing like him.” she turned towards the car

“Oh, are we playing spot the difference?” Ransom chuckled and she gave a bark of a laugh and spun back to face him. “Your eyes are completely different, your jawline is nowhere near as square, your smile…well is it even a smile or are you suffering from trapped wind? I’m not sure and don’t even get me started on your hair.” She arched an eyebrow “Frankly my Stevie has more sexual appeal in his little finger than you have in your entire body and as for that lousy sweater you’re wearing…” “Ah, yes, you’re a sucker for spangly lycra…”

“It’s a mix of Tevlar and a patented material my brother developed actually, but that’s by the by.” Katie shrugged “When he fills it out as well as he does I can’t help but want to be a sucker if you get my drift.”

“More than happy to help you out there darlin.” he winked. “I bet you’ve never kept a woman longer than a night have you?” Katie shook her head.

“Sometimes they don’t even last the night.”

“Oh, I can believe that, I’d run too.” she nodded. “Why would anyone want a jumped up little trust fund baby like you when they could have a real man between their legs?”

Ransoms face instantly slid from the playful, teasing smirk into something slightly darker and much, much angrier.

“You jumped up little bitch.” He spat, his voice laced with venom as he moved closer to her. She held her ground, looking him up and down, simply raising an eyebrow as his voice grew in volume. “If I wanted you, I could have you. It’s that simple.” Katie felt her nostrils flare. After everything she’d just talked to his grandfather about, was this asshole seriously insinuating what she thought he was?

“You know what?” She stepped forward, glaring up at him.“That’s the problem with people like you. You think you can just take what you want without the consequences. Well I got news for you, Hugh, that isn’t how it works.”

“Oh get off your fucking high horse!” Ransom bit back, his voice loud as he shook his head “I’ve had enough of your sanctimonious I’m better than you bullshit.” “I am better than you. But then again, that’s not saying much as frankly I think you’re one of the most despicable people I’ve ever met, and trust me that’s saying something.” She looked him up and down once more, giving her best contemptuous glare before she turned on her heel.

“Now you listen to me,” he said, grabbing at her arm. In a flash she had twisted out of his hold and swept his legs from under him, putting all her body weight behind the movement, spinning and throwing him straight over her shoulder in a move she had learnt years ago from Steve. With a hefty thud and a yell he hit the floor, landing on his back. She knelt on his chest, her knee digging into his sternum, heel of her palm pressed straight against his windpipe.

“When I said yesterday I’d taken down bigger men than you I meant it.” she glared at him “Touch me again, and I’ll kill you myself before Steve gets the chance.”

“Get..off..me…” he snarled, but she didn’t move, instead she pushed on his throat a little harder, causing him to gasp for air.

“They say the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree but in this case, well, you’re about as far removed from your granddad as you could get. How he ended up with such an appalling little shit like you as a grandson I’ll never know.”

With that she stood up, leaving him to take huge gasps of air as she turned to see the dogs careering down from the grassy banks surrounding the house, barking as they ran.

“Mother fucker!” she heard Ransom’s yelling as she picked up her bag her hands shaking slightly as she headed to her car. His yells were coming thick and fast as she walked, quickly. “Oh you son of a BITCH! You just pissed ON MY COAT!”

She turned to see Ransom aiming a kick at the dogs, missing them both completely. She couldn’t help but smirk at the sight of the man desperately trying to escape and get up off the floor. Something then caught her attention and she glanced up slightly to see Harlan was stood on the balcony of the house, a mug in his hand watching the scene play out. He raised the mug in her direction before taking a sip and strolling back in his house.

As she passed Ransom’s silver vintage BMW, which was parked by the Porsche SUV she had hired, she hesitated slightly before she reached down her boot and pulled out the small combat knife she had kept concealed there. With a quick flick of her wrist she sent it flying into the rear passenger’s side tyre of Ransom’s car.

“Knives out, bitch.” She grinned to herself before she unlocked her car, settled in the driver’s seat and pulled away.

****

“Baby, that’s amazing!” Steve said, looking at her across the table as she finished telling him all about her afternoon. She’d driven straight to the small Italian Steve had said he had found and they were enjoying an early dinner whilst Katie told him about her meeting. She’d been completely honest about everything, what she’d said, how she had felt…well, almost anyway. Ransom hadn’t cropped up in their discussions yet, thankfully.

“I know, it’s better than I could have hoped.” she smiled, chewing on her ravioli. “I mean, the amount of money and publicity it’s gonna generate is off the scale!”

“I’m proud of you.” he said gently. She beamed at his praise and took a sip of her wine. “I take it then the whole Ransom thing wasn’t an issue?”

Ah crap, there it was…

Something flickered across Katie’s face and Steve frowned. ”What?”

“He err, he was there.” She looked down at her food, pushing it around her plate a little “We had…words.”

“Words?” Steve pressed.

“Yeah, at first he was fine. Even gave me a cookie, long story.” She waved away his questioning glance “But er…well we had a bit of a heated discussion on the driveway as I was leaving. He grabbed my arm and…” “He did what?” Steve nearly exploded and the table next to them turned to look at him.

“Shhhh” She hissed “It was nothing, besides, I floored him with that nice little over shoulder drive you showed me. Then when he was down the dog pissed on his coat.”

Steve was torn between his desire to rage about the fact the man had dared to lay his fingers on her, and laughing at the image he had of Ransom’s coat being soaked in dog piss. Eventually the laughter won out as he gave a small chuckle and leaned back in his chair.

“Wish I’d seen that.”

“Oh and I left a knife in his tyre” she shrugged, taking another bite of her food. Steve’s eyebrow raised.

“A knife.”

“Yup.”

“You took a knife with you?”

“Down my boot.”

“You know, you scare me sometimes.” Steve arched his eyebrow, taking a drink of his beer.

“I scared him.” she laughed “You should have seen his face.” Steve changed the subject then, not wanting to discuss him anymore. Whilst he was still pissed about the asshole in general, he was beyond pleased to see that she wasn’t phased by it, in fact she seemed excited about the entire thing. The meeting had gone well, and that was the most important thing to him. That she’d gone in the first place, especially after being so frightened.

They talked about where Steve had been, the sights he’d taken in and he promised to show her a few of his sketches when they got back to the hotel room, except that kind of fell along the wayside as no sooner had they gotten into the room they were pawing at each other like a pair of hungry, horny school kids.

As a result, Steve was found himself led on his back on the bed, Katie’s lips trailing his skin, from his collar over to his neck. He let out a soft sigh and Katie grinned as she moved back to look at him. His eyes were dark, full of desire and he watched as her head moved down his body, her soft fingers pulling the waistband of his boxers down slightly as she kissed across the bottom of his stomach, just on the V of his abdomen, where the thin strip of hair that led from his belly button down to his groin lived. He was aroused, desperate to feel her mouth on him, but as she trailed her tongue across his skin, she got as low as she could without actually touching him there. He let out a groan, his hips bucking slightly and she stopped, glancing up at him.

“Want something, Soldier?” she smirked, repeating the words he had said to her the other morning and he looked down at her lidded eyes which were sparkling with mischief.

“You want me to beg?” he asked, his voice gravelly “Because I’m not above that.” She let out a grin and decided to take pity on him. As her hot mouth took him in he let out a hiss, his head falling back against the pillow. One hand fisted in the sheets besides him, the other settled in her hair, fingers tangling into her soft waves as her head moved. Her tongue swirled around his shaft, teeth grazing gently as she took him deeper, twirling her hand around the base of his cock.

“Fuck, sweetheart…” he keened and felt her smirking as she continued her ministrations. It was so good, it was almost torture, and every time his hips moved she stopped, giving him a warning look.

Fuck, he loved it when she took control like this.

Eventually, when he could feel his stomach starting to tighten he gently pulled on her hair. “Baby,” he groaned, “get up here. I’m gonna lose it if you keep doing that.”

With a grin she released him with a pop and crawled up his body, her breasts dragging against his naked skin before she straddled him, and lowered herself down, taking him in completely. Her head lolled back slightly as he bent his knees, allowing her to lean back against his thighs, hands resting on her hips as she began to move. With every roll she made, Steve was actively fighting his release, but it was becoming increasingly harder. His hand moved between her legs to stroke at her bud, and she let out a gasp, shuddering slightly.

“Don’t stop…” she cried, “Please, Stevie…”

His strokes became quicker, and with the hand that still grasped her hip he pulled her down onto him harder as he thrust upwards, driving into her as much as he could. He felt her shudder slightly before she gave a loud, broken moan as her orgasm swept her away, and he was right with her, his hips faltering as his eyes flickered shut, his entire body stiffening before he relaxed backwards and Katie felt forwards onto his chest. She gave a soft hum of satisfaction, her face burying into his neck as his fingers trailed up her spine gently.

“Okay?” He asked when he had finally caught his breath, she made a noise of affirmation unable to summon the power to speak at that point in time. Steve gave a chuckle and moved his head, nudging her face with his nose. She looked at him for a moment before she gave him a soft kiss.

“Stevie.” She hummed gently as he pulled away to look at her. “We left the restaurant without desert.”

He arched an eyebrow at her “Seriously, you’re thinking about food now?” “Yeah, I got a hankering for something sweet.” “I’m not sweet enough?” He pouted.

She laughed “Not unless you’re hiding a pecan pie somewhere…” “Room service?”

She grinned and nodded, rolling off him. “Oh, and order a bottle of champagne.” “Pushing the boat out?” he said, shuffling onto his side so he could face her.

“When have I ever needed an excuse to drink fizz?” she looked at him.

“True.” he said, brushing her hair off her face before he leaned in for another lazy kiss.

“And then, when we’ve finished that I’ll let you draw me a bath.”

“Oh, you’ll let me draw you a bath?”

“Yup?”

“What’s in it for me?” “You can scrub my back.” She smirked, her hand sliding up his chest. “Oh well, when you put it like that, how could I possibly refuse?” He rolled his eyes as she laughed.

Steve grinned back at her. Frankly, the idea of spending the entire evening locked in the hotel room with her, drinking champagne, bathing, no doubt a bit more fooling around was fucking heaven in his eyes. Giving her one last, soft peck on the lips he reached over for the phone to ring in their order.

**** “You’ve done WHAT?”

Ransom smirked as his mother screeched across the room her almost unintelligible ramblings being punctuated by yells and protests from Walt. His grandfather had just revealed to them all that not only was he using a different publishers for his next book, he was also donating his royalties to charity after discussions with the Stark bitch, or Rogers bitch as she was called now. Naturally Meg thought it was a great idea, but then she would. Ransom didn’t give a shit either way. He just found watching them all arguing like they were doing utterly hilarious.

“Cookie?” he asked, offering the packet across the coffee table.

“No I don’t want a fucking cookie, you asshole!” Walt glared at him.

“Wow” Ransom mouthed, smirking.

“Ransom, enough.” His mother shot and he looked at her.

“What did I do?” He laughed.

“You’re being deliberately obtuse!”

“I haven’t said a word.” He sniggered “And I don’t plan on doing either. It’s the old man’s money. If he wants to give it away, so be it. I am curious though.” He leaned forward and looked at his grandfather. “What did she say to convince you to part with it?” “It wasn’t what she said so much as what she did.” Harlan answered after a moment’s thought, not wanting to betray her trust “Her company is donating their profits from what she openly admitted would be their biggest earning book to date. Says a lot about her don’t you think?” Ransom cocked his head to one side and shrugged, as the arguing once more began.

With a snort he stood up “Well this has been emotional, we should do this again sometime.” he said, “Grandfather…”

Harlan waved him away, none of the others paying him a blind bit of attention. He grabbed his dog-piss ruined coat from the chair he’d thrown it against, making a beeline for Fran in the kitchen, ordering her to get it dry cleaned as soon as she could. He then headed out to his car, and stopped dead as he noticed the rear tyre was flat.

Cursing he bet to take a closer look, and noticed the knife that was expertly placed right in the middle of the tread at near the bottom and despite himself he gave a low chuckle, shaking his head.

“Well played Mrs Rogers, well played.”

**** Part 3

**Original Posting**

#stark spangled banner #steve rogers #Katie Stark #knives out #ransom drysdale #steve rogers x ofc #steve rogers x original female character #steve rogers fic #steve rogers smut #chris evans #chris evans characters

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captain-kelli · 4 years ago

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Abbiocco // Fernweh Collection

Abbiocco: (n): A need to lie down, especially the one that strikes after eating and drinking heartily

Pairing: Sam Wilson x Reader

Type: Challenge // One-Shot // Fernweh Collection

Word count: 2,279

Summary: In one of the most romantic places in the world, you and Sam spend your honeymoon learning to make pasta, drinking wine, and lingering in bed.

Warnings: implied smut, meal with meat

Author’s Note: My very first story with Sam was inspired by @captain-rogers-beard’s One Hit Wonder challenge. It was such a fun idea - congratulations, again, on your milestone, my darling Mimi!

Prompt: “It Takes Two” (Rob Base / DJ Easy Rock) // Sam Wilson

Tangled in a sea of white cotton, you’re woken by the early light spilling into the room. Like most things here, mornings move at a leisurely pace, keeping with the Italian way of life. Il bel far niente. The beauty of doing nothing.

Although you wouldn’t call what you’ve been doing nothing.

Rolling onto your side, you find your new husband asleep. Undoubtedly still tired from a night full of lovemaking, his deep brown eyes stay closed, off somewhere far from here. With an appetite only he can satisfy, you lay gentle kisses on his cheeks before making your way to his lips that slowly form a ghost of a smile.

As he stirs, he tugs you into his arms, silently begging you to just rest with him. But your hunger is fierce and demanding. Your hands roam over the breadth of his back, the muscles there a reminder of his strength both in the bedroom and on the battlefield.

When Sam realizes you have no intention of letting him sleep, he finally gives in. His lips capture yours in adoration. Such sweet rapture is this. Stealing away with his bride to one of the most romantic places in the world is a paradise previously unknown and who would he be to deny it? To stay in this bed worshipping your body and soul for the rest of the trip would bring him eternal happiness.

But he knows better.

He knows that if you miss out on today, you’ll regret it and, worse, hold him accountable. It is this fervent belief that puts an early end to what seemed to be a promising round.

“Baby girl, we have to get up.” He glances at the clock on the nightstand before looking back to you. His voice deep and full of gravel, he continues. “We’re supposed to meet Massimo at the market in an hour.”

The disappointed pout you proffer only serves to make him laugh. He knows it all too well after all of this time and, although he’s not entirely impervious to its power, he resists. Instead, he crawls out of the bed, never letting go of your hand.

“I’ll make you a deal. Come shower with me and I’ll quench whatever this need is...quickly. And then we go eat. Because I can’t last another day without a real meal.”

But this wasn’t to be an ordinary meal.

Mealtime in Italy is a tradition. It’s an event meant to be cherished, never rushed or interrupted. Gathered around a table with the people you love most, it is a time to break bread while being intentional with each other.

Of course, it’s not just about the people. The cuisine is a national source of pride. Fresh ingredients, brick ovens, and experienced hands deliver dishes that have been known to make many a mouth water. Countless have tried to imitate the irreplaceable.

This kind of flavor can only be found here.

But everyone wants to take a little piece of Italy home with them, so today, you and Sam are meeting up with a local to do just that.

Florence is history preserved. The birthplace of the Renaissance, its soaring cathedral and museums full of masterpieces draw hordes of tourists every year. To experience the real Firenze, you must go where life is lived.

Piazza Ghiberti is unassuming. Sandstone walls and terracotta roofs surround a local market where you are meeting Massimo. A restaurateur and accomplished chef, there is no one better to lead you in a private cooking class in his osteria. But first, you needed the ingredients with which to cook.

This culinary experience was a wedding gift from an Air Force buddy of Sam’s. An old family friend, Massimo was happy to oblige. But seeing as how you never met the man before, you’re unsure how to find him in a market crowded with people.

But it’s not a problem. He finds you.

“Signor e signora Wilson?”

Even in Italian, you relish the sound of your new last name. So does Sam, it seems, because he squeezes your hand tight and kisses your forehead before turning to meet him.

After a quick introduction, Massimo leads you through the stalls of Sant’Ambrogio Market. An array of colors and scents flood your senses. Fresh produce, meats, cheeses, and pastas fill the rows, making your stomach grumble impatiently.

With Massimo as your guide, you and Sam are able to pick out a basket full of things to make your dinner. Along the way, he explains traditional Tuscan cooking and suddenly you’re thankful Sam coaxed you out of bed.

You’re not even at the dinner table yet and you’re convinced this is going to be the best meal of your life.

On the walk to his restaurant, you and your personal city guide walk towards Ponte Santa Trinita. It’s a bit out of the way, taking you right past Florence’s famed bridge, but Massimo is insistent. Reluctant to rush the man responsible for your dinner, you and Sam stay quiet and choose instead to enjoy the stroll.

But once you’ve made it there, his detour makes sense. Across the river, you have a clear and uninhibited view of Ponte Vecchio. Absent a crowd, you’re able to enjoy an intimate moment admiring the patchwork of shops nestled atop Italy’s most picturesque bridge.

“Would you like a photo?”

Massimo motions for Sam’s phone and tells the two of you to stand together. With his arm wrapped around your shoulder, you fold into his side. Taking a fistful of his shirt in your hand, your wedding band shines in the sun and it’s almost as bright as your smile.

“Now, come. We must begin to prepare.”

The restaurant is tucked away in a quiet alley on the other side of the bridge. Passing several people he knows, Massimo is clearly a prominent figure in the neighborhood. In rapid but enchanting Italian, he stops to speak with a few of his friends before introducing you. You only learned enough words to be polite and order wine, so you simply smile and say, “Buongiorno.”

Finally arriving, you’re greeted with a charming little place. The exposed stone juxtaposed with the whitewashed walls warms the dining room while hinting to its medieval beginnings. Looking to Sam, you can tell you’re both captivated.

And starving. Skipping breakfast was a bad idea.

Massimo calls you to follow him to the kitchen and you happily oblige. Like the restaurant itself, it’s pressed for space, but it feels like home. Unlike the trendy restaurants back in New York, Massimo’s kitchen is understated. Just the fundamentals. With only a brick oven and a stovetop, he’s able to craft food so renowned that stories of it travel across the Atlantic.

Spilling your purchases on the farmhouse table in the center of the room, it takes every ounce of control not to nibble on some of the cheeses you purchased. When Sam tries to sneakily steal a bite, you swat his hand away.

Playfully, of course.

You’re not being greedy with the food or anything.

Tonight’s menu consists of a simple spaghetti al ragu with homemade pasta. Massimo claims this recipe will be the easiest to recreate at home so that your honeymoon never has to end. The sentiment alone is enough to get you to agree.

Because the sauce tastes better the longer it simmers, you begin with its preparation. Massimo asks you to dice the onion and crush the tomatoes while he helps Sam prepare the meat. It’s to be seasoned with cloves upon cloves of garlic along with salt and pepper. Nothing too involved. It would overwhelm the natural flavors.

Once everything is mixed into the pot and the kitchen smells strongly of oregano and basil leaves, Massimo redirects your attention back to the farmhouse table. It’s time to make your own pasta. Although there’s a wide variety of pastas, you’ll be making tagliatelle.

Using flour, eggs, water and salt, you and Sam work the ingredients into a ball of dough. Massimo hands you each a rolling pin so that you get all of the air bubbles out. You don’t want it to break apart when it comes time to cut it.

On your way to the pasta machine, you hear a little hum across the table. Lifting your gaze up from the rolled dough, your eyes are met with the sight of Sam grooving to the tune in his own head.

“Havin’ a good time over there, honey?”

His grin breaks out into a wide smile. Noting Massimo’s temporary absence, he dances around the table to come get you and his song gets a bit louder. Flour covered hands held up in defense, you prepare for what’s to come.

“It takes two to make a thing go right…”

Apparently cooking together across the world reminds Sam of old school hip hop duos from home. At this, you finally laugh. Wiping flour off of his face, you refuse to join along and he whines.

“Name one other song by Rob Base and DJ E-Z Rock and I’ll serenade all of Florence.”

Knowing the impossibility of the task, Sam shuts down all hope for a duet and sulks back to his side of the table. Turning his back to you, he stirs the sauce simmering on the stovetop.

“I wanna rock right now, I’m Rob Base and I came to get down…”

When you sing the lyric, it’s barely above a whisper. The reluctant confession is strictly out of love for Sam, definitely not the song that’s now stuck in your head. No matter if it is catchy.

Before Sam can acknowledge your white flag of surrender, Massimo comes back into the kitchen and recognizes the tune. “Oh, Rob Base! I know him!”

You and Sam break out into laughter. It looks like he is, in fact, internationally known.

Another hour goes by while Massimo instructs you to cut the dough into thick ribbons before putting the tagliatelle into the pot of boiling water. He emphasizes the need for salt and olive oil in the water to add flavor to the noodles and you make a mental note to start doing that at home.

It isn’t long before your meals are plated and Massimo leads you to a table in the restaurant. The faint sound of an accordion meanders throughout the dining room, the lighting low. Massimo even went out of his way to put a small bouquet of white roses on the table.

You and Sam get comfortable in your seats while your host disappears behind the bar. When he comes back, he has two glasses and a bottle of wine. “Most places in Italy, you can order the house wine and it will be very good. But this is a special occasion. Your luna di miele. We are celebrating, yes? Bon appetit.”

His smile is radiant as he saunters back to the kitchen to give you and Sam some privacy. Each of you taking a glass in your hand, Same raises a toast. “Salute.”

Then you take a bite of your dinner.

And your life is forever changed.

The ripe tomatoes morph into a summertime dream and the herbs bring your palate to life. The pasta is al dente, as Massimo suggested, the width of the noodles lapping up the sauce that simmered all day. And the wine. God, the wine. The dry red draws out every flavor on your plate.

The first few minutes of dinner are entirely silent as you focus on the food.

But as dinner begins to settle in your bellies, the conversation starts to flow. You reminisce about your favorite moments from the wedding, like Steve’s best-man speech and your first dance to “You’re All I Need to Get By.”

It was the perfect day.

And now you’re in Italy with your husband.

Across the table, he’s looking at you with a heart full of love, recognition in his eyes. What the two of you have found in each other is rare. It’s beautiful. Sam can’t take it anymore, so he leans out of his chair and over the table to claim your lips with his.

He’s learned after being in Italy for a few days that good things take their time. They’re worth waiting for.

You definitely were.

By the time Sam is back in his seat, Massimo comes out with a surprise dessert. A crostata jam tart made with local cherries and a buttery sweet pastry crust. His face still wears the sweet smile from earlier, broadening when you tell him how delicious dinner was.

Another hour passes while you and Sam polish off dessert and another bottle of wine. Massimo joins you for a little while and he shares stories of living in the capital of Tuscany. You discuss Florence’s many museums and where to go to find a quality leather jacket for Sam, his advice continually helpful.

He kisses both of you on the cheek as you leave and you’re thankful for your dinner and time with him.

On the walk back to the hotel, promises are made to get out of bed at a reasonable hour and laughter fills the moonlit streets knowing that it’s a promise neither of you can keep.

But hey, Italy would always be here. Your honeymoon is fleeting.

Back in the hotel room, you and Sam crawl into bed. Full hearts and full stomachs crowd the mattress, leaving no room for the ideas you have about showing Sam just how much you love him.

It’ll have to wait until morning. And this time, you won’t let Sam leave the bed until you’re done with him.

#sam wilson x reader #sam wilson x y/n #sam wilson x you #sam wilson x female reader #mimi’s one hit wonder challenge

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samantha-thewinchester · 3 years ago

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Asgardian's Man. They're weird. And they wearth their mothers drapes.

|| Stiles POV ||

|| On the Quinnjet ||

Captain Rogers, Stark, and Hope have just boarded the Quinnjet, Loki captured and ready to be brought back. Hope's sitting next to me and Nat as we fly back to S.H.I.E.L.D.

"Fought a god and won. We need to get T-shirts." I tell Hope sarcastically. She rolls her eyes at me, right before lighting starts around the jet, thunder of course following it.

"Where's this coming from?" Nat questions outloud, looking around the sky.

"What's the matter? Are you scared of a little lighting?" Captain Rogers asks Loki. Never thought i would say that, even in my mind. Well, maybe if I was reading fanfiction...

"I'm not overly fond of what follows." Loki says.

"Thor..." I say, realizing that Loki's brother is either her to help him or us. I look over at Nat, her signalling me and Hope over to them. We stand up and slowly walk towards the back of the Quinnjet, right before something lands on top of us. Tony buts his helmet on, and opens the hatch.

"What are you doing?" I yell after him. I quickly put on a parachute, ready to jump out after him. A long, blonde hair dude lands on the open hatch, coming in and hitting Stark backwards. He lands ontop of Captain Rogers.

"Ictus!" Hope shouts, throwing him backwards. The only issue is that Thor had already grabbed Loki.

"You have got to be shitting me." I say, looking at Hope. She shrugs her shoulder.

"That wasn't my fault!" She shouts back, quickly moving back into the plane.

"And now there's that guy." Stark says, eyes not moving from where they fell out of the plane.

"Another Asgardian?" Nat questions, looking back from her seat.

"That guy's a friendly?" Captain Rogers asks, standing up.

"Doesn't matter. If he free Loki or kills him, the Tesseract's lost." I point out, finishing strapping on my parachute.

"Stark! We need a plan of attack!" Captain Rogers calls after Stark, now walking towards the hatch of the plane.

"I have a plan. Attack." Stark says, flying away.

"Welp. Let's the follow the lose Asgradians and the insane Stark." Hope says sarcastically, before jumping out of the plane. Without a parachute, might I add.

"I'd sit this one out, Cap." Me and Nat tell him at the same time.

"I don't see how I can." Rogers says, doing what I did before and strapping on a parachute.

"These guys come from legend." I say, wondering how a supersoldier can fight gods.

"They're basically gods." Nat adds.

"There's only one God ma'am. And I'm pretty sure he doesn't look like that." Captain Rogers tells her. Knowing me and Nat won't win, I jump out of the plane after Hope and Stark.

I hit the ground, Captain Rogers hitting the ground right after me. We start to look for Hope and Tony, spilting up. I find them currently fighting/having a stand off with Thor, the god of thunder. Man, my life is insane.

I stand right next to Hope, both of us giving each other a look. Tony's mask comes off.

"Do not touch me again." Thor warns Tony.

"Then don't take my stuff." Tony fires back. Someone's going to die because of this.

"You have no idea what you're dealing with..." Thor warns Tony again.

"Uh, Shakespeare in the Park? Doth Mother know you wear-eth her drapes?" Tony asks him sarcastically. Damn! I wish I came up with that. I let out a laugh, Hope hitting my arm right after.

"This is beyond you, metal man. Any of you.Loki will face Asgardian justice." Thor directs at all of us.

"He gives up the Cube, he's all yours. Until then," Tony says, mask coming back on, "Stay out of the way."

"Tourist." Tony remarks before getting hit with Thors hammer, getting through back through trees.

"Oh, man that had to hurt." I remark aloud, Thor now facing me and Hope. He uses his magic or something, grabbing his hammer, and gets ready to fight us.

"Fluctus inpulsa!" Hope says, sending shock waves to knock Thor back.

"Cool!" I say to Hope, still amazed by her powers sometimes. She gives me a look, that says shut up as Thor stands up again.

"Witch." Thor says, knowing what Hope was. Well, part of what Hope was.

"Yeah, what are you going to do about it?" Hope asks, head heald high.

"Not the time, Hope..." I whisper to her, not wanting her to piss of the God of Thunder more than Tony had.

"My mother was raised by witches. I quite respect them, and I'm hopeing we could reach an impasse. Loki need to have punishment in the Asgardian way, so I shall take him back." Thor directs at Hope, leaving me out of the conversation. I guess he really respects witches.

"Sorry buddy, we need the Cube he hid." She tells him.

"Look, you can take him back to your land, just let us get the location first." I bargin.

"And you are?" He asks me.

"Stiles. Now, I don't want to start a fight, but we need the Cube he hid..." i explain.

"Fine. If we must." Thor says, hammer up, and he throws lightening at us. I use the air around me to block me and Hope from the lighting strike. That's something I've learned how to do at S.H.I.E.L.D., with Hope's help of course.

"ᚾᛟᚷᛁᛏᛊᚢᚾᛖ" Thor says, staring at me.

"No idea what that means, but awesome." I tell him, smiling.

"Nogitsune." Hope translates, giving me a look.

"Alright, I do know what that means, and it isn't awesome..." I correct myself.

Stark finally gets up, probably because he had issues with his suit, and is fires his blasters at Thor, throwing him backwards. Me and Hope both make an audible wince. Tony flys towards Thor, throwing him backwards.

Thor goes to hit Tony with his hammer again, but Hope stops him, "Ictus!" She says, the hammer falling out of Thors hands. Thor, unluckily for us, using his hammer summoning things and his hammer is right back in his hand. He summons lighting and fires it at Stark. Tony than blasts Thor again, both of them having a battle in the sky.

"We should follow them, just on the ground, right?" I ask Hope.

"No, let's let them settle this." She says.

"Hey! I'm the sarcastic one!" I scold, both of us starting to run after the god and the... well Tony is pretty much a god.

#The Shadows of the Forgotten #Hope Mikaelson #Stiles Stilinski #Teen Wolf #Legacies #MCU #Fanficition

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dweemeister · 4 years ago

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2020 Movie Odyssey Award for Best Original Song (preliminary round)

Yup, it’s back (bullet indentations are not working, so this post will look very ugly on your dashboards)!

Tagging a few folks who have participated before in this annual tradition/folks who I would like to extend an open invitation to (please contact me if you’re interested so I can sort you in a group ASAP... you will also be tagged for the final unless you tell me you are not interested): @birdsongvelvet, @bitch-genius, @dog-of-ulthar, @idontknowmuchaboutmovies, @loveless422, @lvl9gay, @neverwasastoryofmorewhoa, @phendranaedge, @poncho-honcho, @sayaf, @shadesofhappy, @thethirdman8, @uncoolforelimb, and @wehadfacesthen.

Hello everybody. For my fellow Americans, I hope your Thanksgiving was a good one. For the non-Americans reading things, I hope you are doing well, as always! Many things have fallen to the wayside in this unforgettable year. So in hopes of providing some sense of continuity and normalcy, here - as you have agreed to - is the Preliminary Round for 2020's Movie Odyssey Award for Best Original Song (MOABOS). This is the eighth time it has been contested and the seventh consecutive year it has been open to involvement from family, friends, and tumblr followers.

For those new to this, my classic movie blog traditionally ends the year by honoring some of the best achievements from movies that I saw for the first time this calendar year (the "Movie Odyssey") with an Oscar-like ceremony. I choose all the nominees and winners from each category, save one: Best Original Song. It is the only category I can think of that does not require you to watch several movies in their entirety. I consider MOABOS as a sort of cinematic-musical thank-you for your moral support in various ways.

An unspecified number of songs have already advanced to the final round. 24 songs will contest this prelim in two groups - Group A and Group B. In a year when COVID-19 has closed theaters (and which I refused to go to an indoor theater even when they reopened), a year that I did not feel compelled to watch the newest releases on streaming services, there is not a single 2020 entry for 2020's MOABOS. That is, obviously, a MOABOS first - no other MOABOS edition has lacked a shortlisted song from a film released that same calendar year. And as of writing this sentence, I have not seen a single film released in 2020. Despite the lack of 1930s songs, this year's shortlisted songs might be the oldest on average. In other news, this year's field is a modest improvement from the record monolingual field of last year's (which contained only English and two Vietnamese-language entries). 2019's preliminary was the most chaotic we had ever seen, with shocking last-day stumbles and surges from certain songs ("I Dug a Ditch" from Thousands Cheer) that riled up a lot of participants. It's 2020 - will there be a repeat or even more drama at this stage?

INSTRUCTIONS Please rank (#1-12) at least six of your group's songs. Please consider to the best of your ability: how musically interesting the song is (incl. and not limited to musical phrasing and orchestration); its lyrics; context within the film (contextual blurbs provided for every entry for those who haven't seen the films); choreography/dance direction (if applicable); and the song's cultural impact/life outside the film (if applicable, and, in my opinion, least important factor). Imperfections in audio and video quality may not be used against any song. I encourage you to send in comments and reactions with your rankings - it makes the process more enjoyable for you and myself! The top five songs in each group automatically advance to the final round. I reserve the right to pick 0-2 songs from one or both groups that finished outside the top five in their respective groups to contest the final round.

The deadline for submission is Saturday, December 12 at 11 PM Pacific Time. That is 9 PM Hawaii/Aleutian Time. That deadline is also Sunday, December 13 at 1 AM Central Time / 2 AM Eastern Time / 7 AM GMT / 8 AM CET / 9 AM EET. This deadline - as we have seen in the last few years - may be pushed back if there are a large number of people who have not submitted in time. However, I very much do not wish to extend the deadline because the final round is more intensive and usually involves more participants. Tabulation details are in the “read more” below.

Please participate in the group you have been sorted into, if you have not yet been sorted into a group and would like to participate, please contact me. You can access most, not all, of your group’s songs in these YouTube playlists: (Group A) / (Group B). Again, please note that not all of your group's songs are in the playlist for various reasons.

Happy listening. Feel free to listen as many times as you need, and I hope you discover music and movies that strike your interest. The following is formatted... ("Song title", composer and lyricist, film title):

GROUP A

“Blue Shadows on the Trail”, music and lyrics by Eliot Daniel and Johnny Lange, Melody Time (1948)

Performed by Roy Rogers and the Sons of the Pioneers

This is the introductory song to the final segment of Melody Time. That segment is dedicated to the legend of Pecos Bill, and this atmospheric song leads into the telling of that story.

“Born Free”, music by John Barry, lyrics by Don Black, Born Free (1966)

Performed by Matt Munro

Winner of the Academy Award for Best Original Song

This version with lyrics appears in the end credits. The main theme in the song is introduced in the opening credits and is incorporated extensively in John Barry's score across the film. Born Free, based on the non-fiction book of the same name is about two white Kenyan conservationists who raise an orphaned lion cub and eventually release her into the wild.

“But the World Goes 'Round”, music by John Kander, lyrics by Fred Ebb, New York, New York (1977)

Performed by Liza Minnelli

In this musical, USO singer Francine Evans (Minnelli) has been performing in New York City nightclubs, hoping to someday become a major recording star. This song appears as she is recording that very hit that will propel her to stardom.

“Exsultate Justi”, music and lyrics by John Williams, Empire of the Sun (1987)

Performed by orchestra and chorus under the direction of Williams

Lyrics in Latin

In this historical epic, affluent British school boy Jamie Graham (a young Christian Bale) is living with his parents in Shanghai when the Japanese invade. Jamie is separated from his parents and placed in an internment camp. Soon before the end of WWII, the prisoners are moved elsewhere, but Jamie hides and stays put. This song plays as Jamie bikes around the empty camp and continues to play as he encounters liberating U.S. troops. Jamie is dirty and malnourished when found; one can argue that this song is used ironically. It plays once more over the end credits. "Exsultate Justi" is a variation on a theme John Williams develops over the course of the film and harkens back to Jamie's past, attending Anglican services with parents.

"Farewell to Storyville", music by Louis Alter, lyrics by Edgar De Lange, New Orleans (1947)

Performed by Louis Armstrong and his band, Billie Holiday, and company

In New Orleans, the Storyville district was a den of drinking, gambling, jazz, and prostitution. The district was the home to a heavily black populace. The U.S. military, about to establish a Naval base nearby, forces the city to close the district for good. This song is a jazzy dirge to a center of jazz - a musical genre looked down upon by many of the city's upper-class whites due to its ties (real and imagined) to crime.

"Hawaiian Sunset", music and lyrics by Sid Tepper and Roy C. Bennett, Blue Hawaii (1961)

Performed by Elvis Presley

In a musical packed end-to-end with songs, Chadwick "Chad" Gates (Elvis) has taken a job with a tour guide agency - and this includes performing during a luau for tourists. "Hawaiian Sunset" appears as one of the dinner show's numbers.

"Is There Still Anything That Love Can Do?", music and lyrics by Yôjirô Noda, Weathering with You (2019, Japan)

Performed by RADWIMPS

Lyrics in Japanese (translation)

Weathering with You is a romantic fantasy anime about a high school boy who runs away from his rural home to Tokyo, where he meets a girl who can manipulate the weather. It has been inexplicably raining for weeks without interruption in Tokyo, so they form a business to help clear the inclement weather for special events. The melody of this song is heard throughout the film's score. It does not appear with lyrics until late in the film. The song is played under the boy's seemingly impossible attempt to save her from an unwilling human sacrifice.

There is so much plot in this damn film (it's all Makoto Shinkai's fault) - I can't explain the context of the song or this movie in a reasonable amount of space.

“Mad Monster Party”, music by Maury Laws, lyrics by Jules Bass, Mad Monster Party? (1967)

Performed by Ethel Ennis

(opening credits version) / (soundtrack version with no sound effects)

In this Rankin/Bass stop-motion animated film, Baron Boris von Frankenstein (Boris Karloff in his final Frankenstein-related role) has discovered a formula that can destroy matter. Dispatching his bats to send the news, he summons the various members of the Worldwide Organization of Monsters to inform them of his discovery. This song is performed over the film's opening credits and the various introductions for the monsters as they receive their summons.

“My Dream Is Yours”, music by Harry Warren, lyrics by Ralph Blane, My Dream Is Yours (1949)

Initially performed by Doris Day; later reprised by Hal Derwin

Singer Martha Gibson (Day) has abruptly left New York City for Los Angeles to become a star on the radio. In a film where personal sacrifice is central, she stresses over how to bring her son out west with her, the direction of her career, and her tumultuous love life. "My Dream Is Yours" is the song that makes Martha a star, laying out the film's themes in its lyrics. I was unable to find Derwin's reprise, but no matter as the reprise is rather inconsequential.

“Ride the Wild Surf”, music and lyrics by Jan Berry, Brian Wilson, and Roger Christian, Ride the Wild Surf (1964)

Performed by Jan and Dean

Ride the Wild Surf is a surfing film that, unlike most surfing films of this time, is a drama. It follows three surfers (Fabian, Tab Hunter, Peter Brown) who have come to Oahu at the end of December to ride the large waves of Waimea Bay (made famous internationally by this song, this movie, and the Beach Boys' "Surfin' USA"). This song appears in the film's closing credits. The video provided is a montage of surfing footage that appears in the film.

“That’ll Do”, music and lyrics by Randy Newman, Babe: Pig in the City (1998)

Performed by Peter Gabriel

Nominated for the Academy Award for Best Original Song

This song begins at the end (and through the end credits) of Babe: Pig in the City, the second and last film in this series about a sheep-herding pig who perseveres amidst other animals and humans with ulterior agendas. The title is derived from the famous quote said by Arthur Hoggett (James Cromwell) to reassure Babe: "That'll do, pig. That'll do."

“Waqt Ne Kiya Kya Hassen Sitam”, music and lyrics by S.D. Burman, Kaagaz Ke Phool (1959, India)

Performed by Geeta Dutt (dubbing Waheeda Rehman)

Lyrics in Hindi - roughly, "Time Has Inflicted Such Sweet Cruelty On Us"

Song begins at 1:03:31 and ends at 1:07:51

Make sure to turn on the video’s English captions

In this romantic tragedy told in flashback, Suresh Sinha (Guru Dutt) is a director looking back on his life. Suresh is unhappily married to a woman whose in-laws look down on him because, to them, working in films is contemptible to their social class. Suresh meets a woman, Shanti (Waheeda Rehman), on accident and she is soon cast as the lead for his next film. They fall in love, but it is never consummated for various reasons. This song is the most explicit statement of that love in this film. How much of the scene's set-up is observable by the characters is up to the viewer's interpretation.

Group A participants include: @addaellis, @introspectivemeltdown, @memetoilet, @myluckyerror, @plus-low-overthrow, @shootingstarvenator, @themusicmoviesportsguy, @theybecomestories, @umgeschrieben, @underblackwings, @yellanimal. Seven others - including myself and my sister - are currently slated to be voting in Group A.

GROUP B

“Angela”, music and lyrics by José Feliciano and Janna Merlyn Feliciano, Aaron Loves Angela (1975)

Performed by José Feliciano

(English-language version) / (Spanish single version)

Played over the opening credits to this teenage drama that is partly a blaxploitation film, partly an interracial coming-of-age romance. The movie wasn't a hit, but the Spanish-language version of this song was received well in Latin America.

“Aren’t You Kind of Glad We Did?”, music by George Gershwin, lyrics by Ira Gershwin, The Shocking Miss Pilgrim (1947)

Originally performed by Betty Grable and Dick Haymes

(soundtrack version with Judy Garland and Haymes) / (modern arrangement far more faithful to how song sounds in the film)

Cynthia Pilgrim (Grable) is the top typewriting student from a business college in this period piece where the typewriter is the newest invention to sweep the business world. This song appears as Pilgrim and her boss, John Pritchard (Haymes), are about to go out on a date for dinner after talking about how society looks down on women in public without a chaperone.

“The Blues are Brewin’”, music by Louis Alter, lyrics by Edgar De Lange, New Orleans (1947)

Performed by Louis Armstrong and his band and Billie Holiday

(in-film version) / (Billie Holiday single)

After being evicted by the U.S. military from the historic Storyville district of New Orleans (the Navy had just opened a base in the area, and would not tolerate places of gambling, jazz, and prostitution nearby), the characters played by Armstrong and Holiday tour the country with a jazz band in tow. This song appears within a montage showing the passage of time.

“Dekhi Zamaane Ki Yaari / Bichhde Sabhi Baari Baari”, music by S.D. Burman, lyrics by Kaifi Azmi, Kaagaz Ke Phool (1959, India)

Performed by Mohammad Rafi (dubbing Guru Dutt)

Lyrics in Hindi - roughly, "I Have Seen How Deeply Friendship Lies / I Have Seen People Abandon Me One by One"

Part 1 (3:44-8:27) / Part 2 (2:16:29-2:20:42)

Make sure to turn on the video’s English captions

In this romantic tragedy, Suresh Sinha (Dutt) is a washed-up director looking back on his life. In the first part, the song leads into the rest of the film - which is almost entirely a flashback. In brief, Suresh is unhappily married to a woman whose in-laws look down on him because, to them, working in films is contemptible to their social class. Suresh meets a woman, Shanti (Waheeda Rehman), on accident and she is soon cast as the lead for his next film. They fall in love, but it is never consummated for various reasons. Eventually, his career crashes after a box office bomb and her career is ascendant. Leading into the second part of the song, Suresh is penniless and working as an extra at the movie studio. Shanti recognizes him, wants to help, but he refuses to revive his career on the back of her success. Kaagaz Ke Phool has elements of autobiography, and Suresh's fate has parallels with what happened to Dutt after this film was released.

“End Theme from Lone Wolf and Cub: Baby Cart to Hades”, music by Eiken Sakurai, lyrics by Kazuko Koike, Lone Wolf and Cub: Baby Cart to Hades (1972, Japan)

Performed by Tomisaburo Wakayama

Lyrics in Japanese (translation)

Video provided is not safe for work (NSFW) due to stylized violence

Ogami Ittô (Wakayama) is a former, disgraced executioner for the Tokugawa shogunate who wanders the land with his young son. He is intent on exacting revenge on the clan that murdered his wife. This song is played non-diegetically after Ittô has slain dozens of a corrupt governor's bodyguards and walks onward, pushing his son in a babycart, away from the dead left in his wake. This is the third of six films in the Lone Wolf and Cub series.

"Happy Endings", music by John Kander, lyrics by Fred Ebb, New York, New York (1977)

Performed by Liza Minnelli and company (that's Jack Haley - who played the Tin Man and was, at the time, Minnelli's father-in-law - roughly seven minutes in)

(use in film) / (soundtrack version)

It is highly recommended one sees how this song is used in the film. Bear with me: this song is part of a movie within a movie. Within that movie within a movie, there is another movie. "Happy Endings" is the title end song to a film called Happy Endings within New York, New York. Singer Francine Evans (Liza Minnelli) has made it big as a recording artist and caps off her hit film, Happy Endings, with this song. We see Francine's ex, played by Robert De Niro, in the audience as the film ends. "Happy Endings" is a homage/deconstruction to midcentury Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer (MGM) musicals. It serves the film as "The Broadway Melody" does to Singin' in the Rain (1952) or the 17-minute ballet does to conclude An American in Paris (1951).

"Here They Come (From All Over the World)", music and lyrics by P.F. Sloan and Steve Barri, The T.A.M.I. Show (1964)

Performed by Jan and Dean

The link above provides the entire film. You only need to watch from 0:00-4:11. If you like music from this era or want to hear more, this film is highly, highly recommended.

This is the opening credits song to a concert film recorded over two days in Santa Monica, California on October 28 and 29, 1964. The Teenage Awards Music International (T.A.M.I. - yes, I know it's an awkward name) Show included many of the most popular musical stars of that time - almost all of them name-dropped in this song. Jan and Dean, a surf music duo, served as hosts (and performed during) the show. You folks are lucky that this is the only original song from this film!

“Moonlight Swim”, music by Ben Weisman, lyrics by Sylvia Dee, Blue Hawaii (1961)

Performed by Elvis Presley

In a musical packed end-to-end with songs, Chadwick "Chad" Gates (Elvis) has taken a job with a tour guide agency. On his first day, he drives his first clients - a school teacher (who not so secretly is attracted to Chad) and four teenagers (one of whom becomes smitten) - to their destination.

“On the Boardwalk (in Atlantic City)”, music by Josef Myrow, lyrics by Mack Gordon, Three Little Girls in Blue (1946)

Performed by Carol Stewart (dubbing for Vera-Ellen), June Haver, and Vivian Blaine

(original soundtrack) / (Dick Haymes single)

In this rarely-seen musical (20th Century Fox wasn't very good at promoting its back catalogue compared to some other studios, and the situation is worse now that they are owned by Disney), three chicken farmer sisters (Vera-Ellen, Haver, and Blaine) decide to travel to Atlantic City in hopes of marrying a rich husband after learning their aunt's inheritance is not nearly as much as they want. They sing this song as they arrive and check into their hotel suite - which they apparently have not looked up the rate for.

Those who listened to the soundtrack version... FYI, $9.25 in 1902 is $280 in 2020.

“Personality”, music by Jimmy Van Heusen, lyrics by Johnny Burke, Road to Utopia (1946)

Performed by Dorothy Lamour

(in-film performance) / (live radio performance)

In the fourth film of the Road to... comedy series, Bob Hope and Bing Crosby's characters have just overpowered two Alaskan thugs with a history of murderous violence. As they enter a saloon dressed up as those two thugs, all of the patrons - in a town that only knows the thugs by reputation - shut up in terror. They are treated to a performance by Sal (Lamour), who is trying to find a map of a gold mine that the real outlaws supposedly have. A visual narrator (Robert Benchley) interrupts the scene before the song briefly.

“Please Don’t Stop Loving Me”, music and lyrics by Joy Byers, Frankie and Johnny (1966)

Performed by Elvis Presley

(in-film performance) / (single version)

Johnny (Elvis) and girlfriend Frankie (Donna Douglas) work on a Mississippi River riverboat as performers. Johnny is addicted to gambling and believes that another woman is spurring on his recent run of good luck. During a fit of jealousy-as-acting, Frankie accidentally shoots Johnny during a bit of musical theater (someone switched out the blanks for real bullets). This song occurs after Johnny has recovered from the accident.

"Wichita", music by Hans Salter, lyrics by Ned Washington, Wichita (1955)

Performed by Tex Ritter

This is the opening title song to this Western. It is one of many Wyatt Earp movies set before the famous Gunfight at the O.K. Corral. Earp (Joel McCrea) arrives in an otherwise lawless town of Wichita, Kansas where gunplay is rampant. In a radical move, Earp orders to seize the firearms of anyone living in or entering town - which doesn't sit well with some outlaws. This song is incorporated throughout the film's score.

Group B participants include: @cokwong, @emilylime5, @halfwaythruthedark, @maximiliani, @thewolfofelectricavenue, and @voicetalentbrendan. Twelve others - including me and my sister - are slated to be voting in Group B.

Contact me however you wish if you have questions or comments regarding MOABOS' processes or something specific about a song or a few. Please let me know as soon as possible if you are having difficulty accessing one of the songs (especially if it is region-locked) or if there is an error in the playlist.

I thank you all for your support for the Movie Odyssey, the blog, and for me personally - no matter how long I’ve known you or in what capacity. You will be contacted for the final round regardless of your participation here. If turnout in one group is lagging behind compared to another, I will ask some of the more senior participants to participate in the other group, too. No pressure if you cannot get to this, although I will be checking in as the deadlines get close. Stay safe and socially distanced, everyone.

TABULATION This preliminary round uses a points-based, ranked choice method which has been used since the first time I asked friends, tumblr followers, and family to help out. A respondent’s first choice receives 10 points, the second choice receives 9, the third choice receives 8, etc. The winner is the song that ends up with the most total points. The tabulation method used in this preliminary is used only as a tiebreaker in the final round (more on how the final is tabulated when we get there).

This tiebreaker will look slightly different this year.

Tiebreakers for above: 1) total points earned; 2) total #1 votes; 3) average placement on my and my sister's ballots; 4) tie declared

#2020 Movie Odyssey Awards

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what-is-your-plan-today · 5 years ago

Text

Stark Spangled Banner: Stab Me In The Front

Part 2- Knives Out, Bitch!

Intro: Katie heads out to speak to Harlan, and encounters Ransom for the second time in as many days. It ends about as well as the first time...

Warnings: Bad language. SMUT (NSFW)

Pairing: Steve Rogers x OFC Katie Stark

A/N: Part Two of my Two part Avengers/Knives Out Cross Over where Katie and Steve come face to face with America’s Asshole! The tongues are sharp and the knives are out! This is set in 2015 so way before the KO storyline so therefore contains no spoilers! You don’t need to have read SSB to understand or enjoy.

Main Masterlist

**Shout out to @icanfeelastormbrewing for being my Insult Partner when I was writing this!!**

Katie groaned and fluffed up her hair in front of the floor length mirror. She’d chosen a simple bottle green woollen jersey dress teamed with black tights and knee high tan boots wanting to appear smart yet casual for the setting at Harlan’s mansion. But for once it wasn’t her outfit or appearance that was causing her anguish.

Katie snorted and locked yes with him in the mirror “Oh yeah, can you imagine? Mr Thrombey, your grandson is an asshole. In fact, he isn’t just an asshole he’s the asshole, he’s America’s asshole…”

Steve chuckled as he dropped onto the bed “You might not have a choice if he’s already told him what went down.”

“You mean how you threw him over the bar?” she raised an eyebrow. Steve dropped his head and sighed.

“I’m sorry but, well I’m not having anyone speak to you or about you like that.”

“My hero.” Katie smirked at him, and he rolled his eyes as she chuckled. “Look, if Harlan had heard and was going to cancel he would have done it by now. I’ll just go and see what happens.”

She turned round and stepped into the space between Steve’s legs and his hands gently gripped her hips.

“You sure you don’t want me to drive you?” he asked.

“No, I’m ok.” she smiled, dropping a kiss to his mouth, her hands resting on his shoulders. “I’ll text you when I’m there and then when we’re done.”

Steve smiled, he was pleased she was feeling happy enough to take herself, this was a big step in her healing process.

Even if he knew he’d be on tenterhooks the whole time she was gone...

“Ok.” he nodded “I’m gonna go exploring, see the sights.” “Captain America playing tourist.” she grinned and he chuckled slightly, his hands sliding down to gently squeeze her ass.

“When in Rome.” he shrugged, “Or this case Boston. By the way sweetheart, your ass looks great in this dress.” “What is it you say to me?” she laughed, her hands sliding round to remove his from her rear, her fingers lacing into his “It’s all yours baby.” “Damned right.” he practically growled as she turned and headed into the sitting room area. Steve followed her, leaning on the doorframe and simply watching as she shrugged on her pea jacket that was resting over the back of the sofa. She picked up her laptop, checked her bag and wrapped a scarf around her neck.

“Walk you down to the car?” Steve asked, and she turned to face him smiling.

“Yeah, I’d like that.”

****

“Oh aren’t you handsome boys!” she grinned, as she continued to pet them.

“Excellent judges of character, too.” a female voice said. Katie looked up to see a dark haired woman stood on the steps by the front door.

“It’s nice to meet you Fran, I’m Katie.”

“Mr Thrombey is finishing off a call. Can I offer you a drink whilst you’re waiting?”

“I wouldn’t say no to a coffee.” Katie nodded, removing her scarf. Fran took it from her, along with her coat and hung them up on a stand byt the door before she gestured for Katie to follow her. They walked down a hallway which was lined with dark, panelled wood that opened up into a large, kitchen diner.

“How do you take it Mrs Rogers?”

“You?”

There was a pause and Katie sighed, summonsing every single bit of professionalism “Good morning Mr Drysdale.”

Ransom snorted “Mr Drysdale now, that’s not what you were calling me last night was it? I was a self-entitled dick, wasn’t I?”

Fran gave a snort which she hastily turned into a cough and Ransom shot he3r a glare.

“Well in my defence you did call me a hooker so…” Katie shrugged, taking attention off the housekeeper.

There was a moment of silence before Ransom broke the stare he was giving her and turned back to Fran.

“You got my biscuits Franny?”

“In the usual cupboard Hugh.”

Katie couldn’t help the disdain that crept across her face at his tone. He really was an insufferable jerk.

“Really? Hugh to the help and Ransom to others?” She looked at him “What do the dogs call you?”

“I dunno, go ask them. I mean you do speak dog don’t you, being one and everything?”

“Wow did you think of that all by yourself?” Katie rolled her eyes at his childishness “Guess your time at Harvard really served you well.”

“How did you know I went to Harvard?” he frowned.

“Isn’t’ that where all the spoilt little, trust fund babies go?” she glared at him. Truth be told she’d had FRIDAY look him up the previous night but she wasn’t about to admit that.

“Yeah and where was your brilliant education then?” he shoved another biscuit in his mouth.

“Oxbridge.” she shot back. Ransom paused, arching an eyebrow.

“What are you doing here anyway?” he said after a moment, clearly unable to think of anything smart to say about her choice of University.

“Mrs Rogers here is the Owner and CEO of Stark Independent Publishers and they’re going to be publishing The Colour of Revenge.” a voice said from the doorway. Katie turned to see Harlan walking into the kitchen, his eyes fixed on his grandson. “And whilst she is in this house on my invitation she is a guest, so you could do well to remember your manners.” Ransom looked at him, blinked, then threw his head back in a huge roar of laughter. “Wait. You have your own company, and you’re using another to publish your next book?”

“Yes Ransom, that’s correct.”

“Oh that…that is fucking priceless!” Ransom continued to laugh “I can’t wait for you to tell Walt,.”

Now Katie was utterly confused. There was clearly some Family dynamic at play, and she was even more puzzled when Ransom stepped towards her, offering her a biscuit from the packet.

“You poisoned them?” she looked at him, and he chuckled and shook his head.

“I’m eating them ain’t I?”

“Fair point.” she shrugged taking one “Thanks.” “You’re welcome Doll Face. Anyone that helps piss off my shit head family can share my food.” he said, and with that he blustered out in as dramatic a fashion as he’d entered, his laughter following him down the hall.

“You should be honoured.” Harlan turned to face Katie “He doesn’t normally give those out, they’re his favourites.”

“Yeah, without meaning to speak out of turn he doesn’t strike me as the type to share.”

Harlan chuckled and crossed the room, holding out his hand. Katie shook it, smiling. “It’s a pleasure to meet you finally Mrs Rogers.”

“And you too Mr Thrombey.”

“I told you on the phone, please, call me Harlan.”

“As long as you call me Katie.” she shot back and he nodded.

“Sure I can manage that, Fran, dear, we’ll take the drinks in my study.”

“Of course Mr Thrombey, I’ll bring them through.”

Katie followed Harlan out of the kitchen.

“I’m sorry about my grandson.” he looked back at her

“Don’t be.” Katie said, “We err, we actually met last night. He was in my hotel bar…”

“Let me guess, you didn’t particularly get on then either.” “Erm..there were a few words traded yes.” Katie said, before she sighed, deciding to be honest. “Actually, there were more than words traded. Steve, my husband, kinda got in a bit of an altercation with him. I was a little worried you wouldn’t want to do business if you had heard about it.”

Harlan chuckled as he led her down the corridor and to the right “If I refused to do business with everyone Ransom had a run in with I’d have a problem. But that aside, he hadn’t mentioned it. Although, I haven’t seen him since he stormed out of here yesterday after a disagreement with his mother and his cousin. He likes to flounce does Ransom, he has a flair for the dramatic. If you don’t mind me asking what did he say to you?” Katie explained as they walked, Harlan letting out a sigh as he shook his head.

“On his behalf, I apologise.” he said, opening a door and allowing her to step into the large study.

“It’s fine, I gave as good as I got.” she smiled and Harlan laughed.

“I don’t doubt that for a second Mrs Rogers” he said, closing the door. “Now, please take a seat and we can talk business.”

Harlan took the paper and gave it a quick glance over before nodding “How have you come up with the forecast sales numbers?”

“Yes, errr.” she swallowed again, shifting slightly “SIP is donating 100% of its revenue on your book to charity, although we haven’t made that public yet. I wanted to talk to you about it before we release anything to the press.”

“Charity?”

“Yes, several to be exact. We’re going to split it across organisations that help victims of sexual abuse, rape and other violent sexually motivated crimes.”

“That’s very commendable.” Harlan leaned back in his chair “And I take it that’s because of the subject matter?” “That’s one reason.” she nodded, hesitantly.

“And the other?” the old man pressed, his hands steeping together in front of his chin as his elbows rested on the large mahogany desk.

Harlan’s face softened and he let out a sigh. “I’m sorry to hear that, I truly am.” “So yeah, there’s an element of it being personal in there.” she swallowed, “I didn’t know myself that half of these support charities existed until a year ago and to me it’s more about the awareness, that people who find themselves in the position I did understand that there are people out there to help.”

Harlan nodded “How do you intend on using the book to do that?” “Well, with your permission…”Katie said, turning her laptop round to face him, to show him the various mock ups she had produced “...I’d like to include a foreword in your book, a little bit about why we have chosen to do what we are doing, so that everyone who buys a copy sees it. You have a huge established audience Harlan, and that kind of publicity is just something that no amount of money can buy. I’d also like to include a tagline about how the proceeds will be helping people in the advertising material and on the front cover.” “Will you be writing the foreword?” Harlan looked at her.

Katie nodded. “You’ll of course be sent a copy before it is finalised to ensure you’re happy with it.”

“Oh, no, that’s not…” Katie began to protest but Harlan shut her down.

Katie felt her eyes misting over and she blinked, looking away. Harlan passed her the box of tissues and she took one with a weak laugh.

“Sorry.” she smiled “I’ve just, well, no one knows what happened bar my inner circle so to speak.”

“Of course.”

“You have your own Publishing company, they’ve done all of your books for the last 25 years. Why have you chosen SIP for this one?”

Katie gave a grin “I see now why Ransom was so amused.”

“Do you always visit potential authors or is this visit purely down to the fact this book means something personal to you?”

“There is that, and, well, honestly? I’m just a huge fan of your work.” she grinned “Owning and running your own business should have some self-indulgent perks after all, right?”

They spent 15 minutes or so tying up the final bits and pieces before Harlan walked her to the door, helping her into her coat.

“It’s been a pleasure.” He smiled, shaking her hand again.

“I see he’s been out for his usual lunch appointment.” Harlan said. “Such a hard life.”

Katie laughed and with that she headed down the steps towards her car.

“Leaving so soon?” Ransom asked as she passed him.

“Work is done for the day so…” she shrugged

“If you have all that money, why do you bother?”

Katie stopped and turned to him. “Because I’ve never had it handed to me on a plate.” she said, honestly “One thing my brother instilled into me was that you have to work for things in life. Yes, I’ve had opportunities that most people wouldn’t but I’m eternally grateful for those and do this to prove that.”

“And the Avenging?” he asked, “Humour me, I’m curious.”

“I like to help people. It is what it is.” she shrugged.

“Putting your life on the line to help people with no thanks.” he shook his head “I don’t get it.”

“Fuck you.” Katie’s usual insult flew off her tongue easily, and she inwardly groaned knowing full well she’d given him an opening. And sure enough, the anticipated response came her way.

“If you’re offering.”

“Oh, believe me Mr Drysdale, I wouldn’t sleep with you if you were the last person on Earth.

“You wouldn’t be doing much sleeping.” he smirked, “And you’re forgetting something.”

“Oh pray, do enlighten me.” she said sarcastically. “You’re the one that mistook me for your husband, sweet cheeks. I’d say you must find something attractive about me.” “Don’t flatter yourself, you’re nothing like him.” she turned towards the car

“Oh, are we playing spot the difference?” Ransom chuckled and she gave a bark of a laugh and spun back to face him. “Your eyes are completely different, your jawline is nowhere near as square, your smile…well is it even a smile or are you suffering from trapped wind? I’m not sure and don’t even get me started on your hair.” she arched an eyebrow “Frankly my Stevie has more sexual appeal in his little finger than you have in your entire body and as for that lousy sweater you’re wearing…” “Ah, yes, you’re a sucker for spangly lyrcra…”

“More than happy to help you out there darling.” he winked. “I bet you’ve never kept a woman longer than a night have you?” Katie shook her head.

“Sometimes they don’t even last the night.”

“Oh, I can believe that, I’d run too.” she nodded. “Why would anyone want a jumped up little trust fund baby like you when they could have a real man between their legs?”

Ransoms face instantly slid from the playful, teasing smirk into something slightly darker and much, much angrier.

“You jumped up little bitch.” he said, his voice laced with venom as he moved closer to her. She held her ground, looking him up and down, simply raising an eyebrow as his voice grew in volume. “If I wanted you, I could have you. It’s that simple.” Katie felt her nostrils flare. After everything she’d just talked to his grandfather about, was this asshole seriously insinuating what she thought he was?

“You know what?” she stepped forward, glaring up at him “That’s the problem with people like you. You think you can just take what you want without the consequences. Well I got news for you, Hugh, that isn’t how it works.”

“Oh get off your fucking high horse!” Ransom bit back, his voice loud as he shook his head “I’ve had enough of your sanctimonious I’m better than you bullshit.” “It’s not bullshit.” she shook her head, “I am better than you. But then again, that’s not saying much as frankly I think you’re one of the most despicable people I’ve ever met, and trust me that’s saying something.” She looked him up and down once more, giving her best contemptuous glare before she turned on her heel.

“Now you listen to me…” he said, grabbing at her arm. In a flash she had twisted out of his hold and swept his legs from under him, putting all her body weight behind the movement, spinning and throwing him straight over her shoulder in a move she had learnt years ago from Steve. With a hefty thud and a yell he hit the floor, landing on his back. She knelt on his chest, her knee digging into his sternum, heel of her palm pressed straight against his windpipe.

“When I said yesterday I’d taken down bigger men than you I meant it.” she glared at him “Touch me again, and I’ll kill you myself before Steve gets the chance.”

“Get..off..me…” he snarled, but she didn’t move, instead she pushed on his throat a little harder, causing him to gasp for air.

With that she stood up, leaving him to take huge gasps of air as she turned to see the dogs careering down from the grassy banks surrounding the house, barking as they ran.

“Knives out, bitch.” She grinned to herself before she unlocked her car, settled in the driver’s seat and pulled away.

****

“I know, it’s better than I could have hoped.” she smiled, chewing on her ravioli. “I mean, the amount of money and publicity it’s gonna generate is off the scale!”

“I’m proud of you.” he said gently. She beamed at his praise and took a sip of her wine. “I take it then the whole Ransom thing wasn’t an issue?”

Ah crap, there it was…

Something flickered across Katie’s face and Steve frowned. ”What?”

“He err, he was there.” she said, looking down at her food, pushing it around her plate a little “We had an altercation.”

“An altercation?” he pressed.

“Yeah, at first he was fine. Even gave me a biscuit, long story.” she waved away his questioning glance “But er…well we had a bit of a heated discussion on the driveway as I was leaving. He grabbed my arm and…” “He did what?” Steve nearly exploded and the table next to them turned to look at him.

“Shhhh” she hissed “It was nothing, besides, I floored him with that nice little over shoulder drive you showed me. Then when he was down the dog pissed on his coat.”

“Wish I’d seen that.”

“Oh and I left a knife in his tyre” she shrugged, taking another bite of her food. Steve’s eyebrow raised.

“A knife.”

“Yup.”

“You took a knife with you?”

“Down my boot.” she smiled.

“You know, you scare me sometimes.” he said, taking a drink of his beer.

“Want something, Soldier?” she smirked, repeating the words he had said to her the other morning and he looked down at her lidded eyes which were sparkling with mischief.

Fuck, he loved it when she took control like this.

Eventually, when he could feel his stomach starting to tighten he gently pulled on her hair. “Baby…” he groaned “Get up here. I’m gonna lose it if you keep doing that…”

With a grin she released him with a pop and crawled up his body, her breasts dragging against his naked skin before she straddled him, and lowered her self down taking him in completely. Her head lolled back slightly as he bent his knees, allowing her to lean back against his thighs, hands resting on her hips as she began to move. With every roll she made, Steve was actively fighting his release, but it was becoming increasingly harder. His hand moved between her legs to stroke at her bud, and she let out a gasp, shuddering slightly.

“Don’t stop…” she cried, “Please, Stevie…”

“Ok?” he asked when he had finally caught his breath, she made a noise of affirmation unable to summon the power to speak at that point in time. Steve gave a chuckle and moved his head, nudging her face with his nose. She looked at him for a moment before she gave him a soft kiss.

“Stevie…” she said gently as he pulled away to look at her “We left the restaurant without desert.”

He arched an eyebrow at her “Seriously, you’re thinking about food now?” “Yeah, I got a hankering for something sweet.” “I’m not sweet enough?” He pouted.

She laughed “Not unless you’re hiding a pecan pie somewhere…” “Room service?”

She grinned and nodded, rolling off him. “Oh, and order a bottle of champagne.” “Pushing the boat out?” he said, shuffling onto his side so he could face her.

“When have I ever needed an excuse to drink fizz?” she looked at him.

“True.” he said, brushing her hair off her face before he leaned in for another lazy kiss.

“And then, when we’ve finished that I’ll let you run me a bath.”

“Oh, you’ll let me run you a bath?”

“Yup?”

“What’s in it for me?” “You can scrub my back.” she said, her hand sliding up his chest. “Oh well, when you put it like that, how could I possibly refuse?” he rolled his eyes as she laughed.

**** “You’ve done WHAT?”

“Biscuit?” he asked, offering the packet across the coffee table.

“No I don’t want a fucking biscuit you asshole!” Walt glared at him.

“Wow” Ransom mouthed, smirking.

“Ransom, enough…” His mother shot and he looked at her.

“What did I do?” he laughed.

“You’re being deliberately obtuse!”

“I haven’t said a word.” he sniggered “And I don’t plan on doing either. It’s the old man’s money. If he wants to give it away, so be it…I am curious though.” he leaned forward and looked at his grandfather “What did she say to convince you to part with it?” “It wasn’t what she said so much as what she did.” Harlan said after a moment’s thought, not wanting to betray her trust “Her company is donating their profits from what she openly admitted would be their biggest earning book to date. Says a lot about her don’t you think?” Ransom cocked his head to one side and shrugged, as the arguing once more began.

With a snort he stood up “Well this has been emotional, we should do this again sometime.” he said, “Grandfather…”

Cursing he bet to take a closer look, and noticed the knife that was expertly placed right in the middle of the tread at near the bottom and despite himself he gave a low chuckle, shaking his head.

“Well played Mrs Rogers, well played.”

****

@the-omni-princess @momobaby227 @geekofmanythings16 @angelofhell-666 @thewackywriter @marvelfansworld @cobalt-gear @asgardlover75 @jennmurawski13 @jtargaryen18 @saiyanprincessswanie @navispalace @patzammit @joannaliceevans-fanficblog @icanfeelastormbrewing @djeniiscorner @ayamenimthiriel @coldmuffinbanditshoe @disneylovingal @madzmilllz @sgtjaamesbaarnes @sweater-daddiesdumbdork

#stark spangled banner #steve rogers x original female character #steve rogers x oc #steve rogers #captain america #ransom drysdale #knives out #mcu #mcu fanfiction #marvel #marvel fanfiction #avengers #avengers fanfiction

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padfootagain · 5 years ago

Text

A Crimson Christmas (I)

Chapter 1: Saint-Malo

Here I am with a brand new series for my winter event 2019! I am answering the fake dating trope for Steve Rogers :)

Get ready to dive in some mystery for the holidays ;) It's not gonna be just fluff… although there will be some fluff, no worries!

Oh, and… canon? I don't know her.

I'm also very excited with this one, because I've decided to set the story in France, in one of my favourite places, that is not so far from my hometown. So I'm having extra fun with it :)

I hope you all like it!

Gif not mine

Word Count : 4086

There is a mystery in this story.

Or, actually, there are three mysteries tied up together in the events that will unfold here.

The first, and probably the most cryptic of all, concerns the circumstances of the death of a gentleman named Jean Le Kennec.

The second, and probably the most devastating of all, has to deal with the delivery of a package on Christmas Eve.

The third, and probably the most important of all, is to link with a man and a woman spending Christmas together because of a lie.

In order to describe the story as well as it deserves to be told, one should get a pretty accurate image of the city where the events will unfold, for the place itself is like a character in this tale. To do that, one should picture France first. Get as far west as you can on this tiny hexagon, then make your way North to the beautiful region of Brittany.

Landscapes as beautiful and wild as the ocean the land dives into, this part of France is one of the most interesting places you can go to in this country. Because of the magic of the landscapes, yes, but also because of the mystical atmosphere that hovers over the land. Houses of stones batted by the raging salty wind and heavy rains, boats of wood cracking through angry storms, and a past filled with druids, fairies and magic. The Celtic culture goes on there through the peculiar tongue still used by some, typical of this region, but also through the legends of disappeared ships, pirates and lost treasures, and Merlin and fairies in the Broceliande forest, of a king and a sword in a stone wandering there, and menhirs rising through fields to praise estranged gods.

In a word, this place is perfect for the kind of mystery this story will describe.

Concerning the inhabitants of this region, one would give a fairly accurate description of their character with ‘pig-headed but loyal’. Stubbornness is a common trait, and most might describe the people of Brittany as reluctant to change and foreigners, which might make them seem a little cold. But once you’ve earned their trust, there are no more loyal and generous people than them… in France at least.

Two more things need to be known about this local eccentric people, and they have to do with food. A 'galette' is a salty preparation, specialty of this part of France. It is basically like a salty version of a pancake made with a different kind of flour and filled, most of the time, with ham, cheese and an egg. They are not to be mistaken with 'crêpes', the dessert of the traditional meal. It is often filled with butter, or sugar, or chocolate, or salty caramel. Both have this similar form of a large and thin pancake, but the crêpes are sweet, and the two courses are made with very different recipes and flours. And Brittany people are a tiny bit touchy about the difference. Someone mistaking the two would have without a doubt once been thrown into a dungeon. Today, it is met with a tired sigh, and an explanation of the difference presented with a tone that truly means to tell 'if you make that mistake again, I will kidnap you in the middle of the night and throw you into the ocean during the next storm’.

The second element of food you need to know if you want to survive amongst this people is salty butter. Do not attempt to use sweet butter. The inhabitants will judge you and will think that, here again, the place where you belong is located closer to the bottom of the ocean than amongst them if you try. It is properly an insult to their entire culture.

Now that the people of Brittany have been introduced, let’s focus closer to where our story will take place. In Brittany, go all the way North until you hit the ocean, and a tiny bit to the East. You will find a tiny dot on the map there that indicates Saint-Malo.

The town stretches nowadays from the sea to further in the land, all the way along the beaches of brown sand. But this story takes place in the oldest part of town, around the castle.

Built on the edge of the sea, the castle is now the home of the city hall. All around it and a number of buildings, tall walls were erected to fight both the wild storms that strike the shores in winter, and enemy invaders.

Most of this part of town was rebuilt after the second world war, most of its buildings being destroyed by bombings and a large fire that tore to the ground up to 80% of the medieval houses that once stood there. The economic development of the town throughout the XVII and XVIIIth century, through the activities of the harbour, also led to some radical changes in the architecture of the town during that time. This was when the tall walls surrounded the city were built. The reconstruction of the destroyed town went on after the second world war to match in spirit the buildings that remained and yet expand the size of the streets to match the new needs that arose at this period. Which led to identical buildings filling up all the space, at the exception of the churches, the cathedral, the castle and the courthouse, along with the few houses that were still standing. All buildings have this rectangular, almost military stern look, but the use of this peculiar kind of stone to build them entirely, brownish-greyish shade of granite, gives the assemble charms that many tourists now adore.

If one of these tourists climbs up the steep and quite slippery staircases leading up to the walls, they will be able to notice, through the holes that once were meant for canons, that danger is never far in these parts. The large black rocks that crawl out of the foam and the waves are deadly for reckless vessels. The ocean is often violent, and large wooden trunks were planted all along the seaside in order to break the wrath of the waves before they would hit the carved stones of the wall. Many lighthouses colour the horizon in an attempt to clear a path for the sailors, and strongholds were built on large rocks and tiny islands off the shores of Saint-Malo to defend what was once a citadel and one of the busiest harbours in France. Most of these fortifications are unreachable at high tide, even today, and if someone was to find themselves stuck by the tide, they would find no way to reach the town again.

But through these rough elements, the beauty of the town is found as well.

Let’s focus further on, and we can begin our story by studying the tall blond man sitting up there, in a corner of a crêperie set against the inner wall of the old town, his galette gone and his empty plate waiting for a waiter to come and carry it away. The restaurant was decorated with taste, walls white and dark blue, meeting the shades of the ocean. The tiny tables were packed together to allow as many customers in as possible, and this American, who was distractingly looking out the window, seemed too big for the furniture. He had let his beanie and warm scarf on the table next to his plate, his warm coat set on his chair. It was raining outside, which was to be expected for this region, and even more so two days before Christmas. After all, the season of storms had begun.

He almost jumped when you came back from the ladies’ room to sit across him again.

"It won’t get any better before Christmas, you’d better get used to the weather," you told Steve with an amused smile, following his gaze to the street outside, where the rain was pouring, the wind so strong that the droplets fell at a weird angle.

"How did you convince me to spend Christmas here again?" Steve asked with a chuckle.

"I begged you. That’s how. And I promised that I’d owe you one.

"Hmm, yes, I remember now."

"At least, this isn't a real storm! We can still go wherever we please."

"I don't want to know more about these storms just yet."

"I didn't picture you as a man who would like to spend Christmas on a beach with sun and cocktails. I pictured you more… well, like you are now! Wearing a warm beige sweater and enjoying the cold of December."

"I can't believe I've refused that invitation from Sam and Bucky to go to Hawaii…" Steve shook his head and heaved a tired sigh, which only made you laugh.

"You're retired now! You have all the time you want to go drink cocktails under the sun!" you replied with a playful tone. "Besides, you would go crazy there. Doing nothing… that's not exactly you, is it?"

"Hiking there would have been great," he fought back, but he knew you were quite right, he fitted better in this cold weather than on a tropical beach. But he just loved bickering with you.

"But instead you helped a friend in need," you grinned.

"I still can't believe I'm doing this either," he shook his head again.

"Alright, so… let's say it all one more time. We've been together for a year, our first date was…" you left your lie for him to finish, checking if he had memorized everything.

"In New York, in Central Park, we went ice-skating," he answered with a tired voice that didn't match the amused smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

"Right! And now…"

"We're thinking about moving in together in New York, but we still need to discuss it."

"Have we thought of a part of town where we'd settle yet?"

"Not really, nothing is decided, it's a mere project for now."

"My mom will probably give you tons and tons of ideas for decorating an apartment, or places where we could live. Just… go along with it, okay?"

"Okay."

"They'll ask about the working together thingy, and both of us risking our lives as Avengers."

"Our relationship was never a problem in our work, as we can separate the two, and we are now both retired, so all is fine."

"I think you're ready, Mr. Rogers! Welcome to the Y/L/N family!"

"I wish I could say that it's a pleasure, but this whole business is utterly ridiculous."

"It's not! I won't survive another Christmas holiday with my parents trying to find me a boyfriend at all cost. Thank you for doing this, you're literally saving my life."

"I'm sure it's not as bad as you make it sound."

"Oh, no. It's worse!"

Steve let out a chuckle, the sound making you smile. After all, Steve's persona often oozed a saddened, melancholic aura. Most of his smiles and laughter didn't reach his eyes. These moments when you managed to bring real joy or amusement to his features were worth treasuring, and you always did so.

"And… I might have forgotten to warn you about something, but… hmm…" you slowly stuttered, suddenly choosing your words carefully and dropping your light tone for a more worried one. "My family might still hold a tiny little grudge against you… because of the whole… running-away-from-the-law-and-being-a-fugitive incident."

Steve's reaction was merely to place his face into his palm and heave a deep sigh.

"Sorry…" you whispered tentatively. "But it was a long time ago, I'm sure you'll do fine!"

"I hate you," was all he answered, his voice shushed by his hand.

"Of course, you don't. I'm your fellow retired super-hero! We should form a club for it or something… Call Tony, I'm sure he'd join!"

"You're babbling, and it won't make me forget the mess you've dragged me into."

"We've been through worse." You gave him a genuine smile, and the sight acted like a ray of warm sun touching cool skin. He could never be truly angry against you, detail that he found terribly annoying about you. His muscles instantly relaxed, and your smile carried the same message he always read on your lips then.

Everything would be alright.

You and Steve had been friends ever since that first mission against Loki with the Avengers. Of these new heroes, you and Steve had grown to be inseparable. Sharing ideals and your two moral compasses pointing in the same direction, your differences in personality were the greatest strength of the team the two of you made. You had helped him getting used to a new millennium, and he had been a strong support as you lived away from your family for years. You often thought that you had met each other at the best time, right when you both needed a friend the most. Maybe that was why the two of you had grown so close. Throughout this entire Avengers adventure, you had never let the other down, and none of you intended to act any different now that the two of you had helped defeating Thanos and owned a well-deserved retirement from the Avengers.

The future was a little blurry now. What to do with your life after spending years fighting?

You had decided to push the issue away for the holidays. For now, your family gave you enough of a headache without adding the big questions about your future.

"But I have to admit, that we have been through worse," Steve nodded.

"Like Singapore."

Steve rolled his eyes.

"I can't believe you're still bringing this up…"

"I broke my leg to save you! Because you were too dumb to guess that jumping off a building was not a good idea."

"I would have been just fine."

"You would have crushed your skull on the pavement. Do you have any idea of the amount of paperwork the whole team would have had to fill up if Captain America was turned into jelly like that? The answer is: an awful lot. I had to save you."

A tender smile grew over Steve's features. He had learnt to recognize that teasing tone of yours. He had grown into finding it rather cute. Sometimes, you hid your strongest concerns behind jokes. He accepted the boundaries around your heart, he had built tall walls around his too, after all.

"I'm pretty sure the paperwork will be worse if your parents are responsible for my murder," he replied.

"They won't be! They're adorable. And they're going to adore my fake boyfriend!"

You and Steve exchanged a smile.

"You can add that to your resume when you decide to look for work again: 'experience as a convincing fake boyfriend'. Might open some doors for you in the theatre business."

He couldn't refrain a laugh.

"Thank you for making such efforts to find me a job."

"You're welcome. Writing simply: 'ex-superhero, multiple experiences in saving the world against intergalactic threats' just ain't enough to find anything decent these days."

"You haven't told me what you've decided to do now."

"Because I don't know what to do. But I'll find out."

Another warm smile was exchanged, Steve's reaching the corner of his eyes but something sadder was still hidden in his blue irises. It was okay though, you would do better at making him smile next time.

You were interrupted by the waiter coming to take your plates and offer you the cards for dessert. It didn't matter though. For now, Steve was by your side, you reckoned it was all you needed to be okay.

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

"Okay, it's gonna be fine, just relax."

"I am relaxed. You're the one who's panicking."

"I am not."

"You are."

"Oh, shut up."

Your walk from the restaurant to your family's house was short, a mere few minutes. Your family had owned a house in the old town for generations, your grandmother liked to tell you the story of how one of your ancestors used to be a corsair. Some in your family had been fishermen or in the military as well, although these traditions had waned and your parents were now a nurse and a teacher. Which your grandmother laughed at profusely, as she had been working at the docks herself and found it funny to call them both traitors.

Your family owned a large apartment in a building close to the cathedral. The building itself had been rebuilt after the second world war, but the large family had made sure to get an apartment large enough for them all. Your corsair ancestor had brought fortune to your family, buying a large house at the time. If the apartment was nothing compared to the historical house, it was still enough for your large family to fit in. Your grandmother still lived there, and the rest of your relatives had been dispatched through the more modern parts of town, or some, just like you, had left the town to build a life elsewhere.

But the traditional Christmas and New Year celebrations were always set in the ancestral flat. This year, the Christmas dinner would include your grandmother, your parents, your sister and her wife, your brother and his wife along with their two children, one of your aunts and one of your uncles, along with you and Steve, of course. As you had pointed to Steve, you weren't so many this year – considering your grandmothers many brothers and sisters who sometimes were invited as well - and at the exception of your aunt and sister, all were living near or in Saint-Malo. Which was why you and Steve had a room waiting for you in the apartment. You had proposed to go to a hotel, but your grandmother had sounded so offended on the phone that you had to give it up. So, Steve and you would sleep in the same room…

Despite the journey to the building being short, the rain was falling heavily on the town still, and you were both drenched when you reached the stern home. Your suitcase made loud banging noises as you climbed up the streets, the wheels banging into the cobblestones. Steve was carrying a large army bag on his shoulder instead, his beanie glimmering with raindrops.

"I swear, if she's not home yet, I will murder someone," you mumbled under your breath as you rang at the door.

"We could use the time to visit," Steve replied, looking around him.

You raised a hand and put on a tired expression.

"I am jetlagged, I am soaked wet, I am cold, I am exhausted, I am stressed out. I need a warm coffee and some gingerbread, not an adventure under the freezing rain. We'll visit tomorrow, it's a promise. Right now, I just want to get warm and dry."

"We've just eaten, and you want gingerbread?" was all Steve found to answer, but he was terrible at hiding how amused he was.

"You're saying that because you've never tried my grandmother's gingerbread. It's a secret recipe, even I can't know it. She says it will be given to us at the reading of her will."

But the door opened and you could find shelter inside.

You used the old irony lift to climb up to the third floor, and went straight for the door on the left. Your grandmother was faster though, already opening the door for you to enter.

"Oh, Y/N! Je suis contente de te voir!" she held you in her arms tightly enough to make you worry about your ribs.

"Moi aussi, mamie," you smiled and hugged her as well, before turning to Steve, who was waiting on the threshold. "This is Steve. Steve, this is Martine, my grandmother."

"It's very nice to meet you, ma'am," Steve offered her his open hand, but she disregarded it entirely, and she hugged him and gave him the traditional two kisses on each cheek instead.

"Oh, none of that 'madame' nonsense!" she admonished with a laugh and a heavy French accent. "Martine is enough!"

She took a moment to study Steve a little more through her thick glasses, and gave you a knowing look.

"Pas mal, ma p'tite! Pas mal du tout!"

You gave her a desperate look, but Steve merely laughed.

"Do you speak French?" your grandmother inquired, although you thought she ought to have asked before dropping her 'not bad, kiddo! Not bad at all!' at the sight of Steve and shaming you all the way to the next century.

"Un peu," Steve shrugged. "I learnt a little during the war."

"He's fluent," you rolled your eyes at his modesty.

"Oh yes! You were turned into a… oh, how do you say 'glaçon' in English…? Icecube! Yes! Y/N mentioned that! But come in, come in! Oh, you poor things, you're all wet. Sacré pluie! It keeps on raining here in winter."

"Mamie, it rains all year long here," you joked, owning a gentle slap on your arm.

"Chut! I've prepared the second bedroom for the two of you. Get dry, I'll make you some coffee. Un café guérit tout! That's what my father used to say: a coffee heals everything."

You dropped your bags into the room, unsurprisingly discovering only one bed in the room decorated in an old-fashioned way. You took a moment to both change into dry clothes, before joining your grandmother in the living room again. You sat in the sofa while she brought you some coffee.

"Here, all hot! How was your plane?" she asked.

"The flight went well," you answered with a smile. "No trouble."

"And the trains? You arrived in Paris, right?"

"Yeah, that part was a bit of a mess."

"Ha, strikes again," your grandmother nodded. "Ought to keep the politics on their heels."

You and Steve both giggled.

"On their toes, mamie, not their heels."

"Same thing. Has to do with their feet anyway."

"When is everyone arriving?" you asked her, sipping on your warm beverage.

"Tonight, so we can all meet Steve!" she answered with a large smile towards your fake boyfriend.

"Where's Bouton?" you inquired, looking around through the old furniture that smelled like soap, salt and foam.

"Off somewhere. Bouton is our cat," your grandmother explained. "He comes and goes as he pleases, but he loves Y/N a lot. He used to follow her everywhere whenever she came."

"I heard about monsieur Le Kennec too," you said with earnest sadness. "I was sorry to hear about his passing. He was our neighbour downstairs," you explained for Steve. "He always had crazy legends and stories to tell when I was a child. Did you go to his funerals, mamie?"

"Yes. Sad thing. The funerals were yesterday. Fell down the stairs, apparently. He was an old man, after all. Still, he was in such a good shape for his age! I would never had imagined he could die like this."

"A shame. He was very nice."

"And a little crazy. But that's why we loved him. I'll miss him."

"Me too. But, how are you? How's your knee?" you asked, but the old lady brushed your question away.

"Bien, bien! I'm fine! I'm not the interesting one here! So, tell me everything! How did you start dating? Are you happy? When is the weeding?"

"Mamie!" you stopped her, but she merely laughed.

"Just a joke! But I still want to know everything! And more about you, Steve! We have the afternoon to talk, I want to know everything. After all, you'll have to face my son-in-law tonight, and he's very… protecteur?"

"Protective," you corrected. "Yeah… kind of."

"Y/N failed to mention that," Steve gave you a look, but you merely shrugged in silence.

An alarm dinged in the kitchen, and your grandmother hurried to get the cake she was baking. Meanwhile, as your grandmother refused your or Steve's help, your fake boyfriend turned to you.

"So, your father is going to murder me?"

"Possibly…" you answered, your head in your coffee.

He heaved a sigh.

"Nice…"

First, he had to face your grandmother, who seemed to be very nice, but still, the questions would be many, it was obvious. And he had never been of the talkative kind. Lying the whole afternoon promised to be a challenge he would have rather not defied.

How would the evening with your family unfold? That was another level of challenge entirely…

***************************************

Tag list : @ponycake27 @horsesreign @xinyourdreamsx @jbluevelvet @notkeppeki @daynigt-dreamer-stuff @fudgeflyss @stuckupstucky @snek-shit @suchatinyinfinity @i-padfootblack-things @buckybsarmy @heyohheyitsgabi@jigsawlover10 @emyyjemyy @addictedtofictionalcharacters

@rishlo @theshortegg @madamrogers @marvelcapsicle

#Steve Rogers #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers fanfiction #captain america #captain america x reader #captain america fanfiction #captain america imagine #marvel #MCU #imagine #fanfiction #fanfic #writing #winter event #winter event 2019 #steve rogers au #au

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fanfic-scribbles · 5 years ago

Text

Heroic Gestures

Fandom: MCU Captain America/Avengers

Summary: Bucky saves you, you save Bucky. In different ways, but still– it’s all in a day’s work for a couple of heroes.

(Shut up Steve.)

Quick facts: Romance – [established] Reader/Bucky Barnes/Steve Rogers – Nondescript Reader

Warnings: Some Reader peril, liberal usage of humor in a scary situation, little hurt and much comfort

Words: 2259

A/N: If you’re currently going ‘what gives, didn’t I see this this morning?’ yeah, that was a ‘whoopsie’ on my part; I posted it, had some technical glitches, tried to fix it on mobile while I was at work and borked it to the point where I had to delete it and wait until I got home. I promise I’m not spamming, I’m just technologically inept. Also anybody who can edit posts on mobile is smarter and braver than me <3

Today had been going so well– you ran some errands, you cleaned the kitchen, you changed the password on Bucky’s computer so he can’t skip out on quality time with you when he gets home from his stupid SHIELD thing–

“Where is it?”

You're not sure how an otherwise mostly-pleasant morning has topped off with you tied to a chair in the middle of your ransacked living room, but you are going to kick somebody for it.

“I don’t know what ‘it’ is!” you snap and then gasp when the man’s face contorts in anger. Okay, easy; don’t piss off the guy with the gun sitting in arm’s reach. “I- I don’t know what you’re talking about; I don’t, I swear.”

He sighs like you’re the dumbest person he’s ever met. Rude. You could say a lot of things about a guy who breaks into someone else’s home, throws everything all over the place, and then starts asking where something is without telling the person he’s asking what he’s looking for. But you won’t. Mostly because he has a gun. And a knife. And a lot of muscles. Really, you’re more of a lover than a fighter, and you intend to keep it that way.

Unfortunately the man in front of you has a face only a mother could love, and a personality that you hope no one would care for. He grinds his teeth and takes a deep breath, which is good, you think. “Earlier today, Tony Stark came by and dropped off a package,” he says slowly. He raises both of his thin eyebrows. “Ring any bells?”

Ah, Tony. You are so kicking him later. “Honestly, no,” you say, because it is unfortunately not uncommon for Tony to just ‘drop in’ from time to time to do things like leave weird ‘presents,’ or upgrade your security system without asking, or stick rude notes that are too funny to get mad at on the refrigerator. Steve and Bucky don’t know how he gets in. Well they should be happy to not-know that you are so revoking his key after today.

The man grips your chin to painful degrees. “I don’t!” you insist, panicking that this is about to get way worse. But then he suddenly lets go.

And then he hits you. Hard enough to turn your head. Hard enough that half your face starts to throb. Despite your attempts to keep cool, you tear up a little. “I wasn’t even that rough,” he says and yanks your face back into line. When he does you catch a glimpse of someone lurking in the shadows– and the familiar glint of metal makes you able to breathe again.

“It can and will get worse,” Big Ugly tells you very seriously. You almost smirk, because yeah, it’s going to. And you hope Bucky lets you get a kick of your own in for good measure. But Bad Guy lets go of your face and sits back, smug and self-satisfied. For now. “Now– what did Stark give you?”

You sigh. “If Tony left anything then it would probably have been for one of the other two Avengers I live with. You’ll have to ask them.”

The man’s eyes flit suspiciously, but he doesn’t look around, even as he acquires a large and menacing shadow. “Oh really?” he asks sarcastically, like he doesn’t believe you have even so much as a roommate. In a brownstone. In Brooklyn.

Tourist.

“So where are they?” he asks and leans just a little too far back, away from you, and towards–

Bucky strikes, metal arm like a shining silver cobra, and grabs the other man by the throat, hauling him up over the chair he’s sitting him and pulling him back gagging and gasping and flailing so your beautiful specter can growl into his ear, “Right. Here.”

“I can’t believe you didn’t let me kick him.”

“I didn’t want you anywhere near him,” Bucky mutters and keeps dabbing at your face. You didn’t even feel the blood so you must be cleaned up by now, but repetitive motions can help soothe him when he’s like this, and right now Bucky looks like he’s a million miles away. “Steve’s gonna kill me.”

Steve will do no such thing and you both know it, but it doesn’t seem like a particularly comforting fact right now. “He’s gonna have to go through me,” you say and put your hand over his to hold the cloth there. “How are you feeling?”

He gives you a Look. “I punched him.”

“So pretty good then?”

You catch a hint of a smile before he dips his head down low. “Hey,” you say and hold his face, bringing him back up. You rub familiar stubble with your fingertips and cradle his jaw in the palms of your hands. “It’s not your fault. He came because he saw Tony. It’s not Tony’s fault either. It’s his fault. You saved me. Nothing really terrible happened. Breathe, baby.”

He does. He doesn’t look all that happy or relieved about it, but it’s not your place to harangue him out of having emotions.

“That said, maybe I can get Tony to do a drop off in an Amazon locker next time.”

Harangue, maybe not. Encourage some others, definitely yes, and Bucky rewards you by breathing a brief laugh. He then shakes his head and goes back to dabbing your face. “Steve is going to kill me.”

You should have bet on it because when Steve comes home a couple of days later, Bucky walks in right behind him completely hale and hearty– much like Steve, who predicts your running jump with such aplomb that he drops his bag to the floor just in time to catch you. “You’re okay!” you say, legs wrapped around his waist, and you kiss him several times over while he takes you over to the couch and sits with you on his lap.

“Likewise,” Steve says and runs a gentle hand up the side of your face. You didn’t think you looked that bad, but he adds, “Bucky told me what happened. How are you feeling?”

Bucky is currently lurking in the big armchair off on the side, watching the two of you like he’s afraid to interact. You hope he got his kisses in when he greeted Steve at the airfield. Actually, scratch that– you hope Steve got his kisses in, because Bucky is full-on into self-flagellation mode for not having been psychic about a wanna-be terrorist stalking Tony for a delivery the boys weren't even expecting.

Still, you try. “I’m fine. Bucky swooped in, all knight-in-shining-armor-y, and saved me.” You smile at Bucky while still addressing Steve. “I’m no shrinking violet, but I felt braver when I saw him.”

Bucky perks up from his busy ‘Sit Morosely in a Chair’ activity. “Really?”

“Mm hm,” you say, still enthused with running your hands over Steve’s. Luckily he never seems to mind how touchy you get after a mission.

“I’m sure you were brave,” Steve says and brings up your hands to kiss them.

“Nope!” you say, too cheerful on purpose. You sit back on the couch and drape your legs across Steve’s lap. “So, here’s what happened: one day while I was out, completely unbeknownst to me, Tony came over and dropped something off.” You put Steve’s hands on your thighs and pat them. “And don’t worry; I have since talked to Tony about dropping by when one of us isn’t home.”

“So have I,” Bucky mutters.

“Shush! This is my story,” you say and shoot Bucky a glare. He crosses his arms and looks away, so you clear your throat. “Anyway. Unbeknownst to Tony, he was being watched by someone else. Dundunduuuu–”

“AIM,” Bucky murmurs and you glare at him again. He puts his hand to his mouth.

“So, I got home after running some errands and one of the mysterious evil people watching the house decided to make their move,” you say, but Bucky looks so sad again you think…why not have a little fun with it. “He forced his way into my apartment, but I held him off…” for five seconds, but you punch the air and say, “–with my untapped assassin powers!”

Steve lets out a startled laugh and Bucky looks at you like you’re crazy, but he’s stopped looking sad, so you run with it. You nod emphatically. “Yes, to my surprise, I held him off with magically discovered physical ability that would make even Natasha say “whoaaaa.’”

Bucky snorts and his hand is less for showing you he’s going to behave and more for covering up a smile. That’s way better, and totally worth the pain you’ll endure if Natasha ever finds out your impression of her sounds more like Bill and/or Ted than her. You grin and continue with your story. “We fought for hours. I was amazing.”

“Well, I have seen you catch a chip when it started to drop on the other side of the room,” Steve says thoughtfully.

You snap your fingers and point at him. “See? Same motivation.” You then mock a swoon. “Alas, my hubris got the best of me and I was defeated. I awoke, tied to a chair.” You put your hand to your chest. “My own fault; I underestimated my lesser-but-still-formidable opponent. So, he interrogated me. It was kind of scary, but I gave him nothing.” You lift your hands when you shrug. “Mostly because I didn’t know shit. But! Also because I’m brave and stout of heart and yadda yadda.”

Steve is doing real bad at trying not to laugh, and Bucky, though more composed now and trying to be stern, is cracking fast. Good. “And then.” You clasp your hands over your heart as though to keep it in your chest. “Bucky came out of the smoke and shadows and loomed over my lesser-but-formidable opponent.”

“We have a smoke machine?” Steve asks.

“Nope. He was just that awesome,” I said. “I was pretending to cry, to catch my lesser-but-formidable opponent off-guard. It totally worked; he was such a dummy. And then– and then!” You sit up because you’re at the best part, and Steve wraps an arm around your waist to help you stay steady on the cushions. “So I told my lesser-but-formidable opponent that Tony didn’t give me anything, but if he did it would be for the two Avengers I actually do hang out with–”

“‘Hang out with,’” Steve scoffs and pinches your thigh. You yelp and fall against him to make him stop.

“I’m at the best part!” you say and cover his mouth. He takes your hand and starts kissing it, but he’s paying attention (and it feels nice) so you allow it. “So- so he says, ‘where are they?’ and Bucky– cape flowing, lightning striking, shadows casting over his face–”

“Did I have a rose whip too?” Bucky asks dryly.

“I think you would look fetching in a domino mask, but that’s neither here nor there. Anyway, so- so Bucky says–” you drop your voice almost as low as you can, “‘–Right. Here.’ And POW! WHAM!” You swing, making punching motions at the air, so hard and numerous that you almost fall off the couch. Steve is still holding you and at one point he keeps you from diving face first into the floor. “Thanks,” you pant and take two more big, deep breaths to get back to baseline. “And then I totally forgot I had magical badass powers and let Bucky handle the situation, and he beat up the bad guy, and untied me, and I fell right into his arms because he’s my hero. And then some other boring stuff happened. The end!”

Steve claps and Bucky joins him, and you stand up to take a bow, as is your due. You then hop over and sit across Bucky’s lap. It’s hard for Bucky to mope with someone draped over him, as you have well learned from watching Steve. “You’re amazing–” you kiss him, “–and strong–” you kiss him again, “–and I love you so–” kiss, “–deal–” kiss, “–with–” kiss, “–it,” kiss kiss kiss.

“Fine! Fine,” he grumbles but he can’t hide that smile from you. “Shouldn’t you be harassing Steve? He’s the one who hasn’t been home.”

“I have a solution for that,” Steve says, suddenly next to you, and he lifts you into his arms.

“Hey!” You smack at his hand. It’s one thing when you’re making him catch you, it’s another thing when he initiates. You're supposed to be in charge, dammit. You’ve said so.

“I need to thank my heroes for taking care of the homestead while I was out,” Steve says and nuzzles your neck, dipping down to kiss and nip at your collarbone. You shiver and even Bucky looks entranced when Steve lifts his head and says in a deeper voice, “Are you in, Sergeant?”

Bucky manages a barely intelligible “yes” as he stumbles to his feet and follows you both to the bedroom. Steve doesn’t ask you but, admittedly, he doesn’t have to. You’re easy and you’re pretty okay with it. Also, you feel like after this week you deserve to be doted on a little bit. And you know you will be.

It’s good to be a hero.

However if they try to start dragging you to the gym with them, you’re going to show them some actual secret ass-kicking abilities.

#steve x bucky x reader #steve rogers x bucky barnes x reader #captain america reader insert #captain america fanfic #avengers fanfic #fluff #peril #tall tales

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merinnan · 5 years ago

Text

Nevermore - Part 6

“Shanghai?”

“Honestly, I think the hardest part is going to be flying over it on my way to the Shatterdome.”

Now that he was actually flying over the city, Lan Xichen wasn’t sure if his words earlier in the day were prophetic or a curse. The closer the chopper got, the faster his heart began to beat, until now it felt like it might leap right out of his chest. He leaned back in his seat, placing his clammy palms flat on his knees, and took several deep breaths. In, out. In, out. In, out. Once he felt his heartbeat stablilise and slow to something approximating normal, he felt ready to look out of the window again. He wanted – no, he needed – to see it again. To see how it had also healed over the past four years.

From the direction that they were approaching, many of the buildings looked the same. They would mostly be the same, he knew, since he, Nie Mingjue, and Meng Yao had been able to prevent Malerax from getting far into the city. That it had got into the city at all was still too far, but… He forced the hand that had clenched to relax. Yes, it had got into the city, but it had been contained. Most of the city had been spared. His eyes scanned over the buildings, until they were caught up the decorative logo on one of them.

A purple nine-petalled lotus adorned the side of one building, near the top. He didn’t have to be any closer to know how large the lotus was, or that it was made of steel. He recognised it well.

~~~

The lotus, ripped from the building the kaiju had smashed just before they got to it, was large enough to fit neatly into the creature’s clawed fist. When that fist hammered down on them, it was the lotus that smashed against Purple Lightning’s exterior, right where the CONN-pod was encased inside.

“These fuckers use tools now?!” Nie Mingjue shouted in disbelief as they twisted to avoid another blow.

// It’s probably mimicking us. // Meng Yao’s mental voice through the Drift was much like his physical voice, smooth and reasonable.

~ We did just throw a truck at it to get its attention, ~ Lan Xichen agreed.

Another blow collided with them, rattling them around in the motion-rig. Lan Xichen wondered if the steel lotus, with its pointed petals, did damage anything like the kaiju’s claws.

< Thanks, A-Huan, that’s such a reassuring thought. > Even Nie Mingjue’s mental voice sounded like he was speaking through gritted teeth.

The comm crackled to life. “Tools…? Oh, I see…” Lan Xichen could just imagine the headshake on the other end. “Geiszler’s gonna have a field day with this.”

“He can have a field day after we kill it!” Lan Xichen shouted back as they were hit again. He felt his teeth rattle inside his skill, and could feel the gouge in Purple Lightning from the lotus.

< When the fuck did kaiju get smart? >

“LOCCENT, are you sure this one’s a Category III?”

~~~

Lan Xichen blinked and shook his head, bringing his thoughts back to the present. It had been some time since seeing a lotus had brought those memories back so clearly, but then again, this was an identical lotus to the one Malerax had briefly used as a weapon four years ago. The building was further into the city now, though. He supposed that whoever used the purple lotus had decided that moving buildings was a better option than waiting for the original building to be rebuilt.

His gaze wandered towards the harbour. There was a large gap in the buildings that he could see – probably a few blocks of missing buildings, he guessed. The buildings immediately surrounding it looked like a mish-mash of new and of skeletal disrepair. He could still see the claw marks in some of them. Further past it, the buildings were clearly newer ones. That gap must be where they’d finally felled Malerax, and where he imagined its skeleton would still be, much like other fallen kaiju in other cities around the Pacific.

Moments later, when the chopper banked around to adjust its course to go out over the harbour to the Shatterdome, he saw that he was right. Malerax’s skeleton lay in that open area, picked clean by clean-up crews, black-market opportunists, and other scavengers both human and animal. The bones were bleached white after four years’ exposure to the sun, in stark contrast to the darkened and crumbling concrete ground and buildings around them. Now that they were closer, he could see the damage done not just by the battle itself, but by the Kaiju Blue released from Malerax’s corpse, poisoning the area around it. He could see the ribbons and signs marking the Exclusion Zone, and the tiny figures of the many people ignoring them to enter the Zone for reasons as varied as those doing it. Kaiju cultists, street gangs, black market vendors, tourists come to gawk…

Shaking his head, Lan Xichen looked away from the skeleton and past the Kaiju Blue-damaged buildings towards those which have been rebuilt in the past four years. The last time he’d seen the harbour and the buildings that lined the roads from the harbour to where the kaiju’s bones now rested, it had been devastated. Now, with the exception of the Exclusion Zone and the buildings around it, the only thing that gave away the fact that anything had happened was how new all of the buildings looked, and all of them in the latest architecture rather than the mish-mash that they had been. Apart from one, he noted, which looked like…his breath caught.

That building was etched in his memory. He was sure it had been destroyed in the fighting, and yet it looked exactly as he remembered it. Had he misremembered its destruction? Hoped that it had been destroyed, and convinced himself of it? Or had the owners simply decided to reconstruct it exactly as it had been? Whichever it was, he had not expected to see it standing there, a silent reminder of when things had really begun to go so terribly wrong.

~~~

“Lighting,” the voice crackled more than usual over the comms. Purple Lightning had been fighting Malerax for over an hour now, and both jaeger and kaiju had taken a beating. “Lightning, try to pull it further back towards the harbour. The bunkers are all full, but they couldn’t take everyone. Strike Teams are on the ground and setting up an evac zone.”

“Roger, LOCCENT.”

None of the pilots said anything else aloud as they moved in unison to have Purple Lightning catch Malerax’s wrist as it swung at them. They didn’t need to – with the three of them connected in the Drift, spoken words were unnecessary unless they needed, or wanted, LOCCENT to hear what they were saying. They took a step to the side and tried to haul Malerax past them, but the kaiju dug its pointed tail into the ground, anchoring itself in place.

// Damn, if our arm-blade hadn’t snapped, now would be a perfect time to cut that thing off. //

< Is the plasma cannon recharged? >

~ Not yet. ~

They moved closer to the kaiju, raising one giant metal foot and stomping down hard on the tail. The end immediately shot up out of the ground, and lashed around uselessly where it was trapped. The other clawed fist swung towards them, connecting with their chest and sending them staggering back a step, releasing the tail but managing to grab hold of the wrist. With both hands now in their grip, they leaned forward and wrestled the kaiju back step-by-step through the wreckage of cars and buildings.

There were people in that wreckage as well, Lan Xichen knew. He hoped that their slow, hard-fought path back towards the harbour wasn’t taking them through any wreckage where there were people still alive. He hoped that there weren’t many people in the wreckage at all, that they’d managed to evacuate into a bunker or away from danger. He hoped that, but he knew that it wasn’t likely. Malerax had been a lot faster in water than any kaiju before it, and had slipped past them while they were still landing in the water. They’d chased it through the harbour as fast as they could, but it still made landfall before they could reach it, and before the evacuation could get underway.

// Watch out for that tail! //

The warning came a moment too late, as the tail wrapped around one of their ankles and pulled. They stumbled, releasing their grip on one hand as they fell to one knee. Before they could recover and get back up, the kaiju was on their back, biting and clawing at the jaeger beneath it. One claw pierced through the gouge caused by the lotus earlier, and breached the CONN-pod.

< PLASMA CANNON! >

~ Almost there, but I can’t get a clear shot with it on our back! ~

Lan Xichen was sure he wasn’t the only one who gave a grunt of pain as the kaiju’s jaws clamped around their shoulder, but it meant the damn thing stopped wriggling enough for them to struggle to their feet, and from there to slam back into one of the buildings to dislodge the kaiju from their back with a screech of torn metal. As they turned to lay one hand on its chest, the plasma cannon recharge finally hitting green, it plunged one clawed hand through the hole it had made in the CONN-pod, tearing the hole wider and wrapping its claws around Nie Mingjue.

~ A-JUE! ~

// A-JUE! //

Both Lan Xichen and Meng Yao’s eyes flicked to their partner in horror.

< FIRE! >

“FIRE!” Nie Mingjue shouted at them as the kaiju ripped him out of the CONN-pod, cables and wires dangling in its wake. Lan Xichen felt like something was crushing his chest, a feeling which lifted as he felt Nie Mingjue’s presence ripped from his mind.

“A-JUE!” He wasn’t sure if he was the one screaming the name, or if it was Meng Yao, or if it was both of them.

“Lightning!” the crackled voice sounded both frightened and horrified. “We’ve lost Mingjue…neural handshake between Xichen and Yao failing…down to 50%...”

~ A-JUE! ~

Malerax’s fist closed around the ranger and rig it had just torn from the jaeger, then threw it to one side. Nie Mingjue’s crumpled form hit the building across what remained of the street, leaving a red smudge against the white stone as it fell towards the ground.

~ A-Jue… ~

“A…A-Huan…,” Meng Yao rasped out, voice shaking.

// A-Huan… // His mental voice was just as shaky, full of the shock at both the abrupt removal of Nie Mingjue from their Drift, and at the sudden death of their partner and lover. // Plasma cannon…you have to fire. //

Plasma cannon. Right. It was charged, had charged just before…

Lan Xichen clenched his jaw, moving Purple Lightning’s hand back into position from where it had dropped in shock of what had just happened. Nie Mingjue’s death was not going to be in vain. He fired the plasma cannon directly into the kaiju’s chest, and it bellowed in pain, pushing them away.

“Neural handshake at 60% and rising.” The relief in the voice was palpable, but Lan Xichen didn’t feel it. He felt something hollow in his chest, where something – someone – was now missing.

~~~

“…chen? Lan Xichen!”

Someone was waving a hand in front of his face and calling his name, voice full of concern. Lan Xichen blinked, then blinked again, aware of his heart racing and his breath coming far too fast. His hands were clenched into fists on his lap. He swallowed, took a deep breath, and looked to the young man opposite him with what he hoped was a reassuring smile on his face.

“It’s fine,” he said. “I’m fine.”

The young man – what was his name again? Wen Qionglin, that was it. His uncle’s assistant. Wen Qionglin still looked concerned.

“Are…are you sure?”

“Just a bad memory,” Lan Xichen said. He began to smooth out the rumpled cloth of his pants where he’d been gripping them, and focused on bringing his breathing under control. “It’s nothing to worry about, really.”

“Um, okay. We’re about to land.”

He nodded. “Thank you,” he said, before looking out the window again. The city was now behind them, and they hovered above the Shatterdome landing pad. He could feel them slowly descending. To one side of the landing pad, he could make out a ramrod-straight figure in a dark suit. Lan Xichen didn’t have to be close enough to see his face to recognise his uncle, Marshal Lan Qiren. Almost unconsciously his already straight posture straightened a fraction more, and he checked that his forehead ribbon was properly in place. Once done, he gave Wen Qionglin another smile.

“Well. Let’s do this.”

AO3

Nevermore Masterlist

#nevermore #pacific rim #mo dao zu shi #chen qing ling #the untamed #mdzs #cql #gdc #grandmaster of demonic cultivation #xicheng #3zun #lan xichen #jiang cheng #fanfic

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lolainblue · 6 years ago

Text

Phoenix -- Chapter 14

Jared:

After texting that I had arrived I waited patiently in the hotel hallway, arms full of packages, careful not to alert Jane to my presence by any knocking. After a minute a door opened and a tall woman with bleached blonde hair spotted me and waved me over.

“Shh. She's on the phone in the other room. If we're quick she won't notice.”

She quickly pulled some of the packages from my arms and headed back inside, motioning with her head for me to follow. I made my way in as quietly as I could, carefully placing the things I was still carrying on the table near the window.

“Okay, I think I know what to do with all of this,” she whispered as she surveyed everything. “I'm Marisol, by the way.”

“Yeah, I kind of worked that out,” I whispered back. "Thanks so much for doing this for us."

Marisol ushered me back into the hallway and gestured to the adjoining door. Once again I found myself standing about, now just holding a garment bag and a tote, while I waited for someone to let me in.

Marisol soon appeared at the neighboring door as well, welcoming me with a flourish. Jane was just inside, still talking on the phone, her back to me. I set my things down and waited. “I know, I know. But Roger and I will be back for a week in June. You know we wouldn't miss Daddy's birthday. We miss you guys too,” Jane spoke into her receiver as she paced. “Are Mitch and Audrey driving up with the girls?” There was another long pause. “Well give them all hugs and kisses from their Aunt Jane. I'll see you guys soon. I love you, Mommy.” Jane hung up the phone and sighed. She stood in place, tapping the cell against her open palm. I couldn't see her face but from the way she held herself – breathing deeply, sighing – I was pretty sure she was fighting some intense homesickness. I was glad I had carved out the time to fly to Texas to see her. Finally, she turned around, the light in the room catching on a little extra dampness in her green eyes. “Marisol, was that someone at the door...” She stopped when she caught sight of me, her jaw dropping open before her mouth turned up into the biggest grin I had ever seen on her. She squealed and threw her arms around my neck. “Oh my god, Jared! What are you doing here?” I waited for her to release me, giving her a quick kiss as I set her firmly back down on her feet. “Well I couldn't very well let you spend your birthday without me, could I?” “How did you know it was my birthday? I don't think I ever told you...” she trailed off then finished her own thought. “Roger. Of course. I suppose he thinks this makes up for ditching me to do that magazine shoot in Poland.” I didn't know if I should correct her or not. On one hand, it didn't seem to be fair to take the credit away from Shannon for at least trying to be somewhat selfless. On the other hand, I didn't like the way Jane stiffened any time Shannon was mentioned. This was her birthday. We didn't need any of that. I decided to let it go for now. “I was hoping to take you out for your birthday. I made some reservations and brought a change of clothes....” I told her as I gestured toward my garment bag, now slung across the back of a chair. “Oh no!” Jane looked stricken and I had to try to keep a straight face. I knew what was coming. “I love that you surprised me and all but I'm afraid I have a dinner meeting. There this new donor...” Marisol broke first, chuckling from her position near the door. “Yeah, about that..” I said. Jane shook her head. “It's you. The meeting is with you.” “I wanted to be sure you kept your schedule free,” Marisol explained. “You were in on this?” “Who do you think helped me pull all this off?” I asked. “But there's bad news too. We have rehearsals for the Australian VMAs and I have to fly back out. I'm afraid I have to head back to the airport by 4:30 am.” I expected Jane to be disappointed, but if anything, she seemed touched. “Your schedule is that packed and you flew out here just to take me to dinner?” She settled her arms around my neck, running her fingers through my hair while she gazed sweetly into my eyes. “Are you trying to win best boyfriend of the year?” I chuckled. “I thought we weren't using that word.” “Pssh,' Jane said, releasing me with a peck on the cheek. “I'm a writer. I'll do what I want with the words.” Marisol excused herself with a wink in my direction. Once we were alone I tackled Jane, pulling her over to the suite's small living area. “We've got a while before dinner. What would you like to do? Have you been to San Antonio before?” “Yes, but just for business. I haven't really gone out and done any sightseeing or anything.” “It's a great town. I wish we had more time here. I'm sure we could find plenty to do. There's an amusement park, I know you love those, but we don't really have time for that.” “No. When are our dinner reservations?” “Seven thirty.” “Well, what do you like to do when you're here?” “Well, there's a couple of great parks, kayaking, hiking that sort of thing.” “That's definitely out. I don't want to spend what little time we have driving out to things, getting sweaty and then driving back to change.” “Agreed. There are some great museums if you like that.” “Like painting museums or dinosaurs and mummy museums?” “Art. Contemporary. There's this amazing artist in residence program here, and we could take a stroll along the Riverwalk after while we wait for dinner," I suggested. “Hmm," Jane hummed, mulling it over. "I'm not much into art myself, I usually don't understand it, but I think it would be nice to go to an art museum with an actual artist. Plus I love watching you when you talk about things you're passionate about. Your eyes get so big and you're always licking your lips and fidgeting with your arms like you're trying not to overwhelm the rest of us. I love your passion.” I couldn't resist pulling her in for a kiss at that moment. Her lips were soft and sweet, tasting of some sort of fruity lip balm, and it struck me as a very Jane way for them to be. “And I love your softness,” I affirmed as I pulled her against me. “The world could have made you hard but you're still such a sugar cookie.” Jane laughed and rolled her eyes. “I am not.” “You are. And it's wonderful.” We got changed into our dinner clothing after that. I had brought something simple, black slacks and a black button-up shirt, but I wished I had chosen something a little brighter when Jane emerged from the bathroom. She was in a breezy floral sundress, white with pink and yellow roses on it, her hair in big loose curls that cascaded across her shoulders and down her back, and I stopped what I was doing and just watched her as the sun filtering through the drapes illuminated her features. She saw me gaping at her and smiled, the same way she always did when I complimented her, laughing and blushing, dropping her eyes, and that tremendous something that hung in my chest whenever I was near her shifted and surged. “Well, don't you look like Captain Emo,” she teased. “Do you need to borrow my eyeliner or did you bring your own?” “What do you think is in the bag?” I quipped back. “I have basic black, ultra black, limo black, glam black, charcoal black, nighttime black, daytime black, formal black...” “Smart ass.” She slipped into my arms without any further comment. “You look and smell amazing,” I told her as a rush of her perfume hit me. I recognized it as the same one she had been wearing on our first date, and I was sure I had smelled it on her before, probably that summer she spent part of the tour with us. “Same to you,” she said. “Even without the eyeliner?” I joked. “Don't get me wrong, I like the eyeliner. I do. But I think we can skip it for tonight.” She gave me a light kiss and stepped back. “Okay. Go show me some art.” Everything fell perfectly into place once we headed out. Jane was enraptured at the museum, although I wasn't sure if it was from the art or watching me explain it to her. She definitely seemed to be having a good time. Marisol texted me while I was taking Jane on our pre-dinner walk to let me know that everything was ready back at the hotel. I was so excited to have Jane see my surprise I was almost ready to skip our meal. I hadn't been out for dinner in San Antonio in ages, so I took her to this Italian place that one of Emma's friends recommended. I wasn't too impressed with it, I thought the food was just okay, but Jane really enjoyed her piccata dish. We got to talking about our upcoming schedules and I mentioned that we would be shooting a video in Antarctica. Jane became very animated. “Oh, I have been wanting to go there for ages!” “Antarctica? Really?” I marveled. Jane nodded and set down her fork. “I want to climb Mount Vinson. It's one of the seven summits, you know. I mean, not that I'm ever going to do all seven, but Vinson would be such an adventure....” “How did you even get involved in climbing?” “Mountaineering,” Jane corrected me. “Okay, mountaineering. You don't really strike me as the outdoorsy type, to be honest, Jane. You never mentioned so much as going camping before.” “I really hadn't done much outdoorsy stuff before a few years ago. Some camping trips with Roger, a little hiking, that sort of thing. But remember when I went to Machu Picchu? Those Canadian tourists that invited me to go on that Rainbow Mountain trek with them? I'm pretty sure I wrote to you about that. Anyway, I think it all started there. And then after I climbed Kilimanjaro, it became this whole thing...” “Wait, you climbed Kilimanjaro? When did this happen?” “When I was on my walkabout. I was always fascinated with that mountain, ever

since we read about it in school. I never seriously thought I'd climb it, but I was looking at these adventure travel trips, and they insisted Kili was doable if you were in good shape, and I had done well with the South American trek, and I really wanted to try. I'm so glad I did too. It was the most amazing experience.” I took a sip of my water. Catching up on all the changes with Jane had been its own amazing experience as far as I was concerned. “Well I don't think we're going to be near Mt Vinson but you're welcome to join us in Antarctica if you'd like,” I told her. Jane's smile faded a bit. “I don't think that would be the best idea.” “Jane, I'm sure it would be fine...” “You know, my mountaineering group is going to trek Kathmandu Valley in June,” Jane said, quickly changing the subject. “It's a social thing, really. There's a climb that's more of a hike, takes about three days, ends up at this fifth-century temple. Nothing you couldn't handle, I'm sure. You could come to that if your schedule has space for it. I think you'd have fun.” “Okay, I think my ego is a little bruised,” I laughed. “I'll have to see what my schedule looks like. Have Marisol send the info to Emma maybe?” Jane nodded and changed the subject again, chattering brightly about her plans to go home to her parents in a little over a month. I countered with tales of my most recent visit with my own mother. Everything continued pleasantly after that, and before long I was paying the check and helping Jane out of her seat. I sent a quick text to Marisol to alert her to our impending return. Jane wanted to take another stroll down the riverwalk, but the air had grown a bit chilly and of course, I was anxious to get back to the hotel to show her the rest of her birthday surprise. She seemed irritated that I didn't want to stay out and see the lights but I knew she'd forgive me once she was what Marisol and I had planned. I slipped through the door as soon as she unlocked it, wanting to see her reaction. Her expression rapidly changed from puzzlement at my odd behavior to awe, her eyes huge as she took in the room. As soon as I had left, Marisol had begun setting the room up. I had arranged for dozens of helium balloons, in pearly white and pink tones and long curly ribbons, to be delivered. They filled the room now, clinging to the ceiling in little clusters, reflecting the light from the candles that had been set up. Those were Emma's find, from a shop in Portland, giant versions of birthday cake candles in bright colors that echoed the ones on the cake set up on the table near the window. It wasn't actually a grocery store birthday cake – I think Tomo would have killed me if he had caught me buying her one of those – but I had explained the situation to the bakery where I had ordered it and they had done a fantastic job of making it look like a slightly nicer version of one. I hoped it would be enough. The table draped in crepe and covered with flowers, showcasing the presents I had brought with me, including one from Roger, one from Tomo and one from Shannon. I had been a little unsure about that last one, but I figured it would be more awkward to leave him out of it. “Oh my god, Jared. This is amazing,” Jane said as her face erupted into an enormous grin. “You didn't have to go to all this trouble!” She noticed Marisol then, standing in the corner where she had been keeping a watch over all the open flames. “And you too! Thank you so much!” “You're welcome. Enjoy your birthday. I'm off to bed,” Marisol told her, giving her a quick hug and then retreating to her half of the suite. Jane walked over to the table. “Oh Roger, spilling all my secrets I see...” she mused. “The cake is perfect, as I'm sure you know. You're so sneaky.” Once again I didn't correct her, just slipped up behind her and wrapped my arms around her waist. “Well, birthday girl, make a wish. We have a cake to eat and presents to open.” Jane smiled at me and then screwed her eyes tightly closed. After a minute she took a big breath and blew out all the candles, clapping her hands and cheering when she made it on the first attempt. “You're going to get your wish now. I hope you made it a good one.” “I did.” She turned around and placed her arms around my neck. “Thank you,” she continued softly. “This is so incredible. You have no idea what it means to me.” “Anything for you, Jane,” I told her before drawing her mouth to mine. She sighed and shifted in my arms, lingering there with her weight fully against me. I took the opportunity to trace my thumb over her cheekbones and run my fingers under her jawline, memorizing the lines of her face as she gazed dreamily back at me. “Oh yeah, presents,” she giggled finally, turning back to the table. “They're not all from me,” I pointed out as she picked each one up and shook it. I pointed out Roger's, and the one Tomo had insisted on sending when he found out where I was going, and then figured we'd get the most awkward one out of the way first. “This one is from Shannon. You don't have to open it if you don't want to." I figured I'd just pull the whole band-aid completely off so I added, "He's the one that told me about your birthday, by the way." Jane looked at the little box wrapped in red foil for a moment, running her fingertips across the folds in the paper. After a minute's contemplation, she nodded in agreement with some question in her head and then tore the wrapping away. Once opened, the box revealed a silver, Singapore chain bracelet with a single charm – a Ferris wheel. Jane twisted it in her fingers, her lips pursed tightly together. I thought I saw a hint of a smile returning to them before she abruptly closed the box back up and set it aside. “Okay, what's next?” she asked a little too brightly. I handed her another box. “This is the one from Tomo.” This time there was no hesitation as she unwrapped it, but she laughed when she saw the contents, and so did I when I pulled them out – a giant pair of fluffy slippers, made to look like chickens. “Tell him I said thank you,” she managed once she had stopped giggling. I handed her Roger's package next, a long box with a large card attached to it. Jane opened the card first and then frowned. “What?” I asked. “To Jane and Jared. Sorry for ditching you, Jane and apologies to Jared for my lousy behavior. P.S.: Janey, your real present is at Mom and Dad's.” she read aloud. “Okay, now you have to open it.” She continued frowning as she peeled the paper away, revealing a plain black garment box. She took the lid off, looked inside for a second and then gasped and slammed the lid back down. “I. Am going. To kill him,” she growled through gritted teeth. “What on earth is in there?” I asked as I tried to pry the box away from her. She wouldn't let go. “Come on, it has my name on it too.” Jane sighed and released her grip on the box. I pulled the lid back open and pulled the tissue paper aside, catching a glimpse of red satin, an o-ring, and a tag that read Bordelle. “Is that what I think it is?” Jane asked. “Well, if you think it's ridiculously expensive bondage-inspired boutique lingerie, then yes, it's exactly what you think it is.” “Yup. I'm gonna kill him.” “Oh come on. I'm sure he meant well. You haven't even taken it out of the box and looked at it properly. How do you know you won't like it?” “Are you going to wear it?” she asked sarcastically. “I don't know. Does it do anything for you if I do?” She gave me a playful shove and I erupted into laughter. “God, you're as bad as Roger is,” she said before taking the box back and shoving to the side of the table. She picked up another present. “Who is this from?” “That's from me, but so is the other one. You should open that one last.” I grabbed the larger of the two presents and exchanged it for the one she had been holding, letting the matter of the lingerie drop for now. “Here, open this one.” I hadn't had a lot of time to shop for a present for Jane, and the one I had chosen from her risked not being ready in time, so I had enlisted Emma's help. This box had been her find. It was a silk pashmina-style scarf in shades of gold and rose that looked like a sunset. Jane snatched it out of the box as soon as she spotted it, running the smooth fabric against her cheek. “Oh my god, it's gorgeous. Thank you.” Jane wrapped the new shawl around her shoulders before retrieving the box I had taken back from her earlier. It was wrapped in white paper with pink roses, to match the birthday cake, and she gave it a little shake while grinning mischievously at me. I didn't give her any hints, just waited patiently while she turned it over in her hands, shaking it again near her ear, before finally removing the paper. She smiled when she saw the necklace inside. “It's so pretty, thank you,” she said, not understanding what I had gotten her. I took the necklace from its cradle, unwinding the chain and locating the clasp so that I could put it on her. It was a simple white gold chain with a pendant, a piece of clear resin surrounded with a gold ring. It was what was in the resin that made it special. “I almost didn't get this in time,” I told her as she lifted her hair so I could fasten the piece for her. “The artist that does these is a friend of my mother though, and she did a rush job for me. I literally got it from her this morning, already wrapped. I hadn't even seen the finished product myself until now.” Jane grasped the pendant and lifted it for a better look. “She did a lovely job. Is that a flower petal inside?” “Yes,” I said proudly as stepped in front of her again. The phone call I had walked in on earlier was hardly my first introduction

to how close Jane was with her parents. I knew that she loved them very much and although she loved her life as it was she got homesick often too. This one had taken a little help from Roger, and some from her mother, but I thought we had pulled off something very special. “It's a peony petal. From your mother's garden,” explained. “It will stay preserved forever like that, and now you'll always have a piece of home with you.” Jane drew in her breath sharply and her eyes grew misty. “Oh, Jared. It's the most perfect thing.” She threw her arms around my neck, murmuring thank yous as she sniffled against my chest. I pulled her tight and waited for her to settle down again. I knew how sentimental she was. The piece had gone over as well as I had hoped. When she finally let go she grasped the necklace again, keeping it tight in her grasp as she turned back to the table. “Uhm... Jared?” “Yes?” “The cake looks delicious. You didn't happen to bring anything with which we could cut it or serve it or eat it did you?” “Shit. I should have known I'd forget something.” Jane smiled, against nestling herself in my arms. “Nevermind. This has been the most perfect birthday I've had in years anyway. And I know what I'd rather have than cake right now.” “Oh, what's that?” She bit her lower lip, giving me a sly smile. “You.”

@thepromiseofanend @msroxyblog @nikkitasevoli @llfd1977@mustlove6277@fyeahproudglambert @little-poptart @snewsome756@guccilowell @monicasanoli @lady-grinning-soul-k @pandaliciouz

#TB: Phoenix #jared leto fanfiction #shannon leto fanfiction #30 seconds to mars fanfiction #thunderbirds #Phoenix

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themarauderstheoutsidersandpeggy · 7 years ago

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Hi! I’d like to request a Steve x reader fic where Steve and reader started a relationship. Natasha being almost like a sister to reader, gets jealous & overprotective of her. Making sure Steve is treating her right & stealing her all the time for girl fun. Steve being clueless, thinks reader & Natasha have a secret affair going on because relationships are so different in 2017, & everything’s completely awkward later. Thank you! 😊 & sorry if the summery is a little long.

With her? - Steve Rogers x Reader (plus Natasha Romanoff x Reader - Platonic)

Summary: Your newly formed relationship with one Steve Rogers doesn’t go over so well with the woman you used to spend all of your time with. Your almost sister, Natasha Romanoff starts getting jealous and Steve takes her jealousy the wrong way.

Word Count: 2134

Requests are currently open - characters are stated in my bio

A/N: I got this request a few days ago and had nO idea how to write for this. Inspiration just did not strike me, but seeing as this was my first request, I was only able to do a few others first without feeling guilty.

@verdonafrost Hope you like it love!

Natasha Romanoff wasn’t usually a jealous person. She was strong, could hold her own, and definitely didn’t depend on someone else to make her happy. But you were just so damn cute. You had captured the team’s attention when you broke free from being a captive of Hydra, they were all amazed, you sure could fight. They had brought you into the tower since you had no place to stay, and your room had been close to Natasha’s. You woke up screaming one night, nightmares about Hydra still haunted you, and she was by your side in no time, reassuring you that even the strong had to break at some time. You were a few years younger than her, and from then on, she saw you as a younger sister.

No one was allowed to mess with you, literally ever. Bucky had startled you once, (you two had known each other fairly well during your stay at Hydra), he had come up behind you while you were on the couch and screamed. You, being rather frightened had screamed right back, and before Bucky knew what was happening she had sucker punched him right in the face. He still was afraid of her for this, seeing as she can be quite scary if you’ve messed with her.

There was never any hesitation from you to be close to Nat, she was awesome! You two really were like sisters, sometimes when people would hit on either of you when the team went out, the other would get up in their face and screech, “That’s my sister!”, without even thinking about it. It was quite terrifying.

This is why it took so long for Steve to admit his feelings, even to himself. He and Nat were certainly not enemies, so he absolutely cared what she thought. The only reason he had even told her how he felt was because he had gotten pretty drunk one night, though he swore he never had more than one drink. Anyways, he had run out of the bar, Bucky stumbling after him, trying not to get lost because neither of them could really see more than blurry lines. He had drunkenly run all the way back to the tower, and had actually tripped over you while you were on your way to the kitchen. He had rammed right into you, picked you back up, and then shouted an apology in your ear.

“Sorry! Do you know where Y/N isss?”

“Steve…..”

“Yeah Y/N? oH Y/N THERE YOU ARE HI”

The night had ended in several heated kisses and then Steve passing out on top of you on the couch. You woke up the next morning to a phone camera snapping a picture of the two of you, and then a hushed, exasperated, and very aggressive swear, as Tony realized that the sound had been too loud, waking the two of you up.

Almost a month later, you two were finally past the independent stage in your relationship, and spent every waking moment with each other. Natasha was not pleased. What used to be sleepovers turned into you and Nat trying to ignore Steve outside the door, listening to your conversations. Knowing that he was out there, your conversations turned to you gushing about him to her as though he couldn’t hear. What used to be training sessions between the two of you, became you gawking (understandably) at your new boyfriend’s incredible muscles. And worst of all, the number of hours she spent with you in general was decreasing rapidly. Five or six a day turned into three, three became one and a half, and finally, none. She had gone the whole day yesterday without even a hello from you. You had left your phone in your room, and apparently Steve had taken you out for a day of sightseeing, even though you lived in avengers tower and could see everything perfectly from the goddamned windows. She was certainly happy for you two, but she would appreciate if Mr. Muscles would stop whisking you away.

The morning after your tourist escapade, you woke up to the feeling of a vice around your arms. A vice with spectacular hair. He felt you shift slightly, trying to get a bit of wiggle room, and he squeezed you even tighter, nuzzling his face into your neck.

“Not ready yet darlin’.”

“Steve it’s ten minutes to noon.”

“So?”

“So breakfast?!?!”

“Mmmmm but lunch is closer, let’s just get up at noon.” And with that, you were enveloped once again in your snuggly boy’s arms. You were able to get one arm out without waking Steve, and you grabbed your phone which was softly playing “Black Widow” by Iggy Azalea, signaling that Nat was calling you. You smiled a bit at your clever choice in ringtones, and pressed the text button, not wanting to wake Steve. She was slightly annoyed at you, you hadn’t seen her at all for a whole day and now you were declining her calls? She read the text you sent, “Sorry Nat, Steve is still asleep and I’m trapped”, and decided that this demanded her action.

You and Steve both shot out of bed when an alarm sounded throughout the tower, this not having happened for quite a while now. Expecting the worst, you both got suited up and sprinted to the main level where everyone was standing. The moment you had your foot over the threshold of the elevator into the lounge, you were yanked back and your mouth was covered. You wanted to scream, but then you realized the familiar smell that enveloped you while in the “stranger’s” arms. Nat’s shampoo. You relaxed, having gone quite stiff when you were grabbed. She pushed you into the elevator and pressed the button for her floor. You gave her a questioning look, and she simply said, “I’m tired of him stealing you. You’re mine for today.”

You laughed, “let me at least tell Ste-”

“Nope, then he’ll try and join, I want a day of just us, like it used to be.”

“SO jealous,” You teased, and she smiled a little.

“Well I missed you!”

—————————————

Steve was so confused. One minute you two were walking together and the next, you had vanished. He was concerned, but Tony gave him a small smile and told him not to worry. Nat had told Tony that whatever happened that day, to not ever let Steve out of his sight.

Natasha Romanoff was full of surprises. She took you all over the city, you two got ice cream, you went on a jet ride to Albany with a jet that you “borrowed” from Tony, and you finished the day with some shoe shopping, because why the hell not?

You two walked into the tower, out of the elevator, and you were immediately wrapped up in Steve’s arms. Nat rolled her eyes, flopping down onto the couch and groaning.

“Long day?” Tony laughed, looking at her eyes which were wide open, trying not to fall asleep right there.

“Yes” she breathed, just happy for a few hours with you before you were whisked away again.

The next day, she woke up and walked into the kitchen, grabbing a glass of water on her way. She heard you giggle, and sighed, knowing that she would find you and Steve curled up on the couch. She walked in anyways. Oh look, there you were. She was right. She backed out, and got dressed, ready for day two. She walked back into the living room, finding you two in the same spot.

“Y/N? Get some popcorn, we’re having a movie day.”

“But you had her all of yesterday! Let me spend time with my girlfriend!” Steve whined, squeezing you tighter.

“You’ve had her for the past month!!! It’s my turn now!” Nat shrieked, grabbing your hand and pulling you to her room. Just before you left the room, you turned and mouthed ‘sorry’ to Steve.

“Nat! Wait!” She cringed, knowing your protests were coming.

“Yeah Y/N?”

“We can’t have a movie night without ice cream!” you laughed and ran to the freezer.

She smiled, knowing that you were back.

Now Steve was getting pissed. It was six days after Nat had stolen you, and he hadn’t seen you much since. He was getting worried that you two were… getting somewhere. He knew how different relationships were now, and he knew that you were openly accepting of the LGBTQ+ community. He just hoped you weren’t cheating on him with Natasha. He wanted to think you would never, but he really couldn’t tell, seeing as no one would let him within five feet of wherever the two of you were. He told himself that he would confront you tonight, and hope for the best.

You and Nat were laughing so loud, it should have been illegal. No one should be allowed to have that much fun. You had talked about Steve, only for a minute or two, Nat had demanded to know if he was treating you right, and you said yes, obviously. He wasn’t ever mentioned again. You two had watched four movies, with recouping breaks in between, because every single one of them made you two cry. You had each had a mountain of snacks, and were both so full it hurt. It was getting late, the clock almost striking eleven, when there were a series of increasingly aggressive knocks on the door. You both shot up, Nat running to get the door, and behind it, you saw Steve, trying to look nonchalant about almost having broken Natasha’s door down.

“Yes, muscles?” she questioned, a bit harsh because she was comfy and now she wasn’t.

“I need to talk with you both.” He stated, pushing past her and into the room, leaving a dumbfounded Nat in the doorway.

You sat down beside him on the bed and grabbed his hand, looking questioningly at him. Your face flashed with hurt when he pulled his hand away as fast as possible, as thought he was burned by your touch. He tried not to let it affect him, seeing as he was here to ask you if you had been cheating on him. Nat closed the door and sat down opposite the two of you. Steve took a shaky breath and spoke.

“Alright, I know Y/N and I haven’t been together for that long, but I also haven’t been around for very long since 1945, so I can’t really do anything about that. What I can do, is observe the current world, and I know that lesbians are a lot more common now than they were back then. If you guys have something going on, it’s gonna hurt a lot, but I’m gonna support you, even if it means losing you. That’s how much I love you darling. So, are you cheating on me? With her?” he finished with a strangled attempt at keeping his cool, and looked straight into your eyes. You traded open-mouthed gazes with Nat, and then burst out laughing.

Steve’s face turned into one of annoyance, pissed off that the two people he had just asked a very crucial question were laughing at him. You placed a hand on his knee in between fits of laughter, and looked him dead in the eye.

“I’m not cheating on you babe, especially not with someone I consider as close as a sister. I love you romantically, and her platonically. I hope you know I will hold this over your head for the rest of your life, dork.”

He breathed a sigh of relief and, giving a small smile, apologized for the accusations.

“It’s alright captain I guess being frozen for a few decades does really mess up the brain,” Natasha teased, still giggling.

Little did the three of you know, Bucky was laughing to the point of hyperventilation outside of the door. To this day, he has NEVER let his best friend forget the time he thought his girlfriend might have been cheating on him with her “sister”.

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #mcu #the avengers #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #tony stark #tony stark x reader

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duckachu · 6 years ago

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FIC: Rise all green / from the waves again

on ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15760647

It is not quite the end of the world. It will not be the end of the world for some time. Thor inhales, exhales. It feels like the start.

Thanos is the biggest thing any of them have ever experienced, up to that point. At the end of it, Thor is left eyeless, homeless, but not quite friendless. He stays on Earth for as long as he can bear, which is never very long, and then heads to the stars, Earth’s latest astronauts following close behind.

He tries not to feel the passage of time sliding by as he hops from planet to planet, fighting where he must and talking where he can, but it rolls over him like a wave, and when he looks up to breathe again seventy Earth years has passed, and Thor is staring down at Stormbreaker, feeling the magic – the magic of Heimdall, of the Bifrost – course through him. He says goodbye to Gamora and Quill’s daughter and Groot, with whom he’d been travelling with for the last few years, brings what trinkets he can, and lets the Bifrost overwhelm him until he’s standing on a field on Earth, lightning and ozone crackling around him.

He makes his way to the nearest city, asking around until he finds someone he knows – or rather, until they find him, since word of his arrival spreads quickly enough that before he knows it he stands in front of a nearly unchanged Steve Rogers, stepping forward for a hug. All these years, and they haven’t forgotten him.

Rogers leads him into the new Avengers base – still going strong – and shows him around. The base is small, barely worth a passing glance, and Rogers explains that the main one is on Mars, and most of the new Avengers are stationed there. The old guard, those that are left, are too attached to Earth.

“Tony’s dead,” Rogers says, slowing as they reach a small room. “In his sleep, they said. There was nothing anyone could’ve done about it.” His tone implies that he had tried.

They step into the room. It looks like the Collector’s collection, filled with memorabilia and souvenirs, except the place feels warm and soothing, like stepping into a hot bath. To Thor’s right is a row of Stark’s armors. The walls are decorated with hundreds of pictures: Iron Man flying through a New York Thor doesn’t recognize; Hawkeye perched on the edge of a building, bow tensed; Rogers helping a small child out from the window of a bus; Black Widow running through the streets, a dark blur of red and black; even Thor himself, his hammer a blur as he swings it in his hand.

Thor’s memory of Stark is bleak. He listens to Rogers reminisce warmly, talk about the battles they won together and the enemies they defeated in the decades that he’s been gone, and briefly regrets his decision to leave. The thought flickers out as quickly as it had come.

“Clint’s on Mars right now,” Rogers continues. “He thought about going further out into space, but stepped one foot inside a spaceship and decided he was too old for the whole thing. He’s retired, technically, but he helps everyone train. There’s a girl who’s taken up the Hawkeye mantle – you should see her shoot. Nothing like it, except for Clint of course.”

Rogers wears the burden of long life poorly, Thor can tell. Thor made his own peace with it long ago. Rogers’s stories are half nostalgia, half desperation, the battle against Galactus, tinged with a kind of frenzy.

“My friend,” Thor says, clapping a hand on his back during a break where they wander over to the kitchen to eat, “it’s good to see you.”

Rogers smiles. There are few new wrinkles to his face. There’s two grey hairs clinging to the back of his neck, but he moves with strength, purpose. “And you,” he says in return.

Thor stays.

He sees Rogers, Banner, Romanoff, and a few of the younger ones around the base from time to time, but he mostly keeps to himself. He explores the surrounding areas, travels to New York and London, Paris and Dubai, Tokyo and Rome, the cities that before he’s never had a chance to stop at, to enjoy. He sees footprints of the Avengers everywhere he goes: the rowdy coffee shops crowded with tourists in the shadow of an Iron Man statue, a Zen Whoberi family touring the Avengers museum housed in Stark Tower, which is dwarfed by the surrounding landscape, the Kree hawkers in the streets selling merchandise plastered with painfully inaccurate renderings of Humanity’s Mightiest.

He is recognized once, by an Asgardian leading her partner and child through the sights. Thor notices Alfhild easily (he recognizes all of the Asgardians remaining, which number too few to even bear thinking about), and they strike up a conversation.

Alfhild’s child is half Asgardian, half Krylorian, smile beaming from her pale pink skin as she asks, “Are you really Thor?”

Thor hefts her up, tosses her in the air a few times to prove it.

When they part, Alfhild leans in close to Thor. She tells him that the Asgardians dwelling on Earth are well taken care of, that they have families, that they still celebrate the old festivals and feasts. “Don’t be a stranger,” she says, brown eyes shining. Her hair falls down her back, braided the same way her daughter’s is. (Before the fall of Asgard, Thor would never have even glanced at her.)

“I won’t,” he promises.

That night, he eats dinner while sitting with Natasha Romanoff. The newer Avengers seem intimidated by him.

Romanoff watches him as she eats her pasta, quiet. She’s aged, but not in the way a normal human would. Her hair is half-white, her face lined, but she still moves gracefully, if slower, as if any moment Hawkeye and Iron Man will stride out into the kitchen and complain about the coffee.

“I met an Asgardian today,” Thor says, trying to fill the silence. Romanoff leaves him off-kilter. Rogers, he can understand, but Romanoff is a different beast entirely. “She said they lead happy lives now.”

Romanoff shrugs. “They live their lives. Move on. It’s what anyone would do.”

“Yes,” Thor says. He remembers the coldness of space. The darkness. For the first time in a long time, he thinks of Asgard – the shining city. He misses Loki. Heimdall. His father. His mother.

Romanoff’s mouth quirks up in an expression that doesn’t quite make it to a smile. “Steve’s heading back today with the newest recruits,” she says. “We’re celebrating their first completed mission. You’re welcome to join in.” She stands up, holding her empty plate.

That evening, Thor steps into the common room to hear the sounds of laughter and chatter – Steve making dinner, Natasha talking with the newest recruits, Bruce and his young protégé conversing quietly in a corner. The room quiets when he enters, but Steve turns around to smile warmly at him before returning to his task. Natasha gestures for him to come closer.

“I have a few people who want to meet you,” she says.

The young ones have bright, gleaming eyes, shifting with excitement and nervousness as they try not to stare at him.

Thor stays.

#fic tag #thor #mcu #infinity war

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bluepenguinstories · 7 years ago

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Happiness Overload Chapter Eighteen

My hands were shaking, both of them still gripped to the gun.

Marco looked down at the fallen figure that belonged to someone once known as ″Conrad″.

″Oh. Good job,″ he commented, then shrugged. His dull expression was not one I was used to seeing.

″N-Now what?″ I asked, finding it hard to speak, let alone breathe.

″Now we go our separate ways,″ he explained. ″With Conrad out of the way, that's one less roadblock. You did your part and alas, are no longer needed.″

He went back to walking away, but I wasn't having any of that. My blood was boiling. Really? That's it. I just killed someone and all you have to say is 'you are no longer needed'?

I shot at him. Multiple times. Not one of them seemed to leave a mark or even register.

″How could you just walk away? After you propped me up, made me feel like I was worth something? I thought I mattered! I thought for once in my life, I was important!″

I shot once more, he looked back just once, and smiled a half-smile.

″Oh, Kelly Roger. Don't you know? You were never important.″

Then he walked away, disappearing from view.

I tried shooting more, with all I had, but it all came up blank.

Why? Why was I firing a gun? Why did I have it in the first place? It makes no sense. None of this makes any sense. I thought I would be loaded with answers to these questions, but all I was drawing were blanks.

I tossed the gun aside, but to no avail. It was still there. Not in my hands, but looking down, I knew it was still there.

Why? Why did I shoot Conrad? What purpose did that serve? This was all set up, but I wasn't the type to shoot someone, so why? Yes, I was upset, but that was no reason to do something like that...was it?

Tears filled my cheeks. I dropped to the floor. That was so unlike me.

I shot someone.

This is so unlike me.

Yes, I shot someone. Blood filled my cheeks. Blood on my clothes, blood soaked on the floor. Blood or tears. One of the two. It was so hard to tell. That was okay. There was something beautiful about it all. Yes, I shot someone.

This is so unlike me.

Yes, I was never important but for the first time...I felt okay with that. I served a purpose. Or I served no purpose at all. I existed or I didn't. Something VERY unlike me gave way and I welcomed it. I...smiled.

″I'm so happy...″ I muttered.

My thoughts and my words were mingling into one. Everything mattered. Nothing mattered. Everything was such bliss. I felt his face...I felt like finger paints. I painted my face. I pulled at my hair, no longer needing such a solid red. I was laughing, grinning, all the while, I knew what I was at last: happy.

I'm so happy. I'm so happy. I'm so happy.

I'M SO HAPPY. I'M SO HAPPY.

I'M. SO. HAPPY.

″Clap along if you feel like a room without a roof,″ I heard along the corridors of these darkened halls.

How's there music playing if all the electricity's gone out? I wondered, until I took a few more steps and found the answer: the MP3 player of a fallen soldier blaring out through headphones. Seems whoever or whatever had been behind this massacre didn't even have the decency to turn the music off.

This may not really be the right time, but...

I went ahead and picked up the MP3 player, prying it off the hands of the fallen soldier. Seems it had a decent battery, and if lady luck was on my side, I saw no problem with listening to music while traversing this military industrial wasteland.

There was a hint of blood on the headphones, but after wiping it off with my shirt, I figured it was safe to use. Hey, I never said I was the most sanitary person!

″Let's see...ABBA...Earth, Wind and Fire...Arctic Monkeys...where's all the bangers?″ I pondered aloud as I scrolled through the player. Finally, I found something more fitting for the environment.

″Ah! Here we go! The Chrono Trigger soundtrack!″

In spite of the darkness, I was in total bliss, dancing and rocking out to the tunes. All was well until a booming sound could be heard, overtaking the noise from the headphones. I unlatched one headphone and looked up.

″Hey! What gives?″

The roaring sound grew louder and putting two and two together, I realized that it must have been the stomps of something huge.

Well, this is it. It's probably something fearsome, like a giant robot. Like a mecha of alien technology. Finally, this area will start to get cool. Maybe it's a metal gear.

Whatever was just around the corner, I wasn't planning on being in its way. Cool or not, death was death and I wasn't ready to die until I was sure Velvet was still alive. I looked around and found a door just a few feet away.

I ran in, surprised to find it unlocked, and slammed the door shut. The booming stomps grew louder and I could tell whatever that thing was was just outside the door.

″Chili churros!″ Is what I thought I heard, roared out in a low, thunderous bellow.

″Did I hear that right...?″ I whispered, and through the blinds I could see the shape of something massive, reminiscent of a Quagsire, which happened to be the evolved form of my favorite Pokemon. I shuddered. I couldn't look away, in spite of the fearsome sight my eyes beheld. This thing was rummaging through the corpses, chewing on limbs. My stomach turned, and so did the rest of me when I heard the cock of a gun behind me.

″What are you doing here?″ The voice snarled, hands firm on the trigger.

″Hey, do what ya gotta do!″ I reassured whoever was pointing the gun at me, even though I was sure said person didn't need reassurance.

I wasn't looking to get shot, but lemme weigh my options here: frog monster versus gun.

″Just great,″ the one who held the trigger spoke up. ″Now that the gate's destroyed, there's gonna be more tourists like you just barging in here.″

I sighed. ″This just ain't my day. There's some freaky thing right outside and I run in here to take cover only to have a gun pointed at me.″

″Tell me about it,″ the gun-owner replied. I noticed their hand was shaking.

″Say, why haven't you shot me yet?″ I pointed my right thumb out. ″Doesn't it say 'trespassers will be shot' or something?″

″I...″ Stalled my preferred cause of death. ″...I'm not good with guns.″

I burst out laughing, but I covered my mouth, as I knew what was just outside.

″Do you want to be shot so badly?″

Before I could answer, the walls beside me crumbled and crashing through was the large amphibious abomination.

I bolted across the room. The soldier [citation needed?] opened a hatch and motioned me to get in. I dived in, and soon the one who ought have shot me did as well. My companion [again, citation needed] sealed the hatch and started piling things (my guess would have been boxes and crates).

Encased in further darkness, I let out a sigh of relief, just before jumping where I stood from hearing the creature stomp and pound at the hatch from just above me.

″Shit!″ I seethed.

The one beside me struck a match, and although I still couldn't see worth a damn, I could tell that the free hand was motioning for me to follow.

″So...think we're safe?″ I asked, trying to break the ice.

″Fuck no!″ Yelled the response. Even if the ice was broken, there was a large enough chunk of it to sink a metaphorical Titanic.

″By the way, I'm not a tourist, I'm just...″

″Passing through?″

″...Looking for a friend,″ I finished.

″God, do you know how stupid that sounds? You're just looking for a friend in one of the most top secret areas in the world?″

″Wait. One of? There are areas more top secret than this?″

″Oh, buddy.″

″For real, though. I've got a friend who ran off saying she was planning on visiting Area 51.″

″She's probably dead, then.″

I gulped. ″You don't know that!″

″Top secret area? Yeah, I do.″

″I managed to sneak in pretty well.″

″In that case, one of those creatures killed her.″

I groaned. Ever the optimist, I see...

″You know, it would make me real happy if I knew your name. It beats thinking of you as 'that soldier who didn't shoot me', y'know?″

″Andrew Dobrev.″ He stopped for a second. ″...I wasn't supposed to tell you that. Call me Private Goodwill.″

″Eh, think nothing of it. People do all sorts of things in the heat of the moment. Goodwill's a good a name as any.″

He grunted and pressed on. I had no idea where we were going, but it felt nice to have a companion.

″Here, just past this door,″ he motioned. He opened the door, which happened to be an ordinary, wooden door. This whole tunnel was rather ordinary considering all that lied above.

Inside was a small room, filled with posters and a map of the facility. Save for a toaster and a coffee maker, nothing electronic could be found.

″This is where I hide when I want to get away from my boss!″ He declared, rather proud of himself and the little hideout. He took the match he was holding and lit an oil lamp in the corner of the room. The room reminded me of Conrad's crib that I never got to visit in this form and could only picture in my head.

″Was your boss a jerk or something?″ I quizzed.

He shrugged. ″Eh, not any more or less than any other sergeant. Just real annoying. Would talk on and on. Not to mention he sure loved to bring up his mustache no matter what the topic was about. Shame, really. Wasn't always such a weirdo.″

″What happened?″

″Don't really know, but I suspect it had something to do with those annual check-ups that are sponsored by the ETNA Corporation. I hear common side effects include memory alteration and mild delirium. I'd always lie and say I already had my check up. Didn't want to start telling people what an amazing forehead I had or some shit like that.″

″I feel ya,″ I nodded. ″I don't think a single part of me's amazing.″

He laughed a bit. ″Same here! All's I do is look at a bunch of monitors all day and point out if something looks out of the ordinary. Most of the time, it doesn't even matter! Guards around the whole perimeter, turrets, alarms, lasers, tanks, mechs, missiles, drone strikes. The whole gamut. Furthermore, you know who else watches monitors all day? Mavis Beacon. Not only that, but Mavis is good with computers. Me? I don't know shit. No matter how you look at it, I'm fairly worthless.″

″Hey, that's not true!″ I tried to comfort. ″I'm sure you're good for something!″

I sat down in a chair next to him. I swiveled around a bit, but he wasn't looking the least bit amused.

″Man, it is SO true. I'm such a coward, too. I mean, as soon as the power went out, my first thought was 'I better find the closest place to hide'. I guess that's what I'm good at,″ he snickered. ″Hiding.″

″Hey!″ I snapped my fingers. ″You're still alive, plus you saved my life when you could have killed me. Maybe being a coward isn't so bad!″

His eyes lit up. ″You may have a point there...″

I never knew I could be so good at the whole pep talk thing, but it made me feel all warm and fuzzy.

″So what's your story?″ Goodwill asked, to which I couldn't help but notice how he was actually engaging in conversation with me. He gave me the impression that he wasn't much for conversation, so I felt honored that he would take any interest in me at all. Then again, it could be that we were two survivors stuck in a room together. In any case...

″What do you mean?″ I asked in reply.

″About your friend and such.″

″Oh!″ I sat up. ″We were going along the Nevada highway when our ride broke down. She was all 'hey! Isn't Area 51 nearby? We should check that out!' and I was like 'Uhh...that sounds like a bad idea', but she didn't listen. While we made our trek, I met the love of my life and I settled down. However, my friend was still determined to go visit this place and I was too absorbed in the love I was receiving and how happy I felt for it to set in that she could seriously get herself killed, and I didn't want her to die. So I parted ways with my lover and set off to find my friend.″

″...How long was all this?″

I placed my finger on my chin.

″Hm...just today, I think?″

″Just today?″ He repeated.

″Yeah!″

He shook his head. ″So you gave up your happiness for the sake of a friend's happiness?″

My mind went back to what Euphoria asked.

WOULD YOU OPPOSE HER HAPPINESS IF IT MEANS SHE LIVES?

Maybe it would make Velvet happy if she died, but it wouldn't make me happy. So, if that was the case, I was still being selfish.

″Yeah...″ I smiled, though worried he would see through me.

″That's rather brave of you.″

I scoffed and smiled. ″That's not necessarily a good thing.″

″I mean, you probably knew you'd die before you even got to her, and there was a good chance she'd be dead before you even got to the gates. Well, you're alive and you made it here, so that's worth something. Though she could still be dead, and if that's the case, it could have been all for nothing.″

We sat there in silence for a long second.

″...Sorry to be such a downer.″

″It's all good! But even if she's dead, I want to know for sure. I don't want to do nothing, y'know? I found you, after all.″

″Too true. I don't know who survived and who didn't. It just hit us out of nowhere.″

″Well, how did it start?″

″I was watching someone try to climb the fence and got shot. Sgt. Michaels was droning on about his 'Jo-Ann' stories, and just after, the power goes out. He blames it on 'Jo-Ann' and goes to investigate.″

″So it wasn't Jo-Ann after all, but these frog things?″ I didn't even know who Jo-Ann was but I figured she must have existed in some capacity.

He shook his head.

″No, the power went back on. Just turns out a fuse was blown. Someone must've been using a lot of energy in one of the sections. The outage only lasted a second.″

I tilted my head. ″So...?″

″Well, I went back to looking at the outside monitors, and get this, there were three oddly shaped people. One of them, I was positive it was the one we ran into, ran right into the gate. Or fence. Whatever you wanna call it. Should've electrocuted the dude, but nope. Kept running through. I saw guards shooting, but no avail; fucking thing ate the guards, and the guns! Like, what the fuck, dude? I can get people, but weapons?″

″You can get eating people?″

″No, but, like, people are organic...give or take some mutagens, nanotechnology, yadda yadda. But a gun? That's not people. That's like eating an ax! Axes aren't people!″

I pondered the logic. It seemed to check out.

″So, then what?″

″Well next comes the tanks. Whoosh! Frog dude runs into the tanks and just beats on them as if they were nothing. Missiles get launched, smoke clears, the three are standing at one of the doors. One of them's wearing a trench coat and has some kind of pad. Turrets spring up, but they fire at the soldiers instead of the three. It's as if the one in the trench coat hacked into the turrets or something! Anyway, the trench coat one points to each of them and the three split up.″

″So there's more than one of those things?!″ My eyes lit up, disbelief overtaking me.

″Indeed. I have no idea what the other two are capable of, but I believe the one in the trench coat has intelligent thought, enough so to shut off the power to our facility.″

″That's what happened next?″

He nodded. ″I ran off as soon as it got dark. I didn't look back. Through the halls I heard screams, but I went off searching for a place to hide. I remembered my hiding place, but stayed on the surface just in case any of my colleagues came running in.″

″And the gun?″

″...Just in case one of those mutant things came running in. Or an intruder. Both in the case of those mutant things.″

I laughed a little, in spite of the seriousness of the tale. ″You had to know bullets wouldn't work on one of those things, though? You saw them survive through missiles on your monitor, after all.″

″What's your point? Why are you questioning my logic? It was a dire situation. People do stupid things in dire situations.″

″Yeah, maybe. I just figured if I didn't question it, who would? We're the only people down here.″

″Don't remind me...″ He groaned.

We sat in silence. The thought of the other two creatures similar to that thing I saw up there was enough to send shivers down my spine. It was clear that those three arrived here with something in mind and so far their plan was working. No need to be sneaky, just trash the place...that was probably their mindset. But what was the end goal?

Never worry about it. It's too much. Far, far too much, a voice told me. My own. I had no Ecstasy. My thoughts were my thoughts.

″Say, wanna play checkers or something? I would suggest chess, but I was never good at that game. Queen, pawn, what's the difference? Now checkers, that's the real shit.″

Oh. That was the situation. Private Goodwill was talking to me.

″I'm sorry. I just realized I should probably head back up.″

″You serious?″

″I ought to try to find my friend. Can't search while I'm cooped up down here.″

″Girl, you're nuts!″

″Well, I'm not a girl...″

″Oh, sorry. You're one crazy guy, in any case,″ he backpedaled.

″I'm not a guy...ugh, it doesn't matter.″

″Hey, it's okay! It's the current year! I remember just the other week I was in the break room standing in front of the fridge and Mavis just shoves past me all 'move, I'm gay!' and I was just like 'yep,' and let her through. 'Don't Ask, Don't Tell'? That was years ago, y'know?″

″Whoa! I just meant that who I am doesn't matter!″ I waved my hands about, also doing damage control. ″I'm a tourist, after all.″

I got up. My hands were shaking, which to him could be misconstrued as anger, when in truth, it was fear.

″You taking off?″ He asked.

I nodded. I couldn't bear to turn my head.

″I think I can help you find your friend, but it'll also lead to this place blowing to bits.″

″What do you mean?″

″It's simple, really: right now we're fine for the time being because the government could just chalk this up to a power outage, although they'll investigate sooner or later. Like, we shouldn't have an outage for very long, maybe a few minutes tops. An hour, two hours...that'll lead to some kind of investigation. But if all satellites and such have gone offline, then it might take them longer. I'd say a day, tops. That said, if the power were to come back on...″

He coughed.

″The government, or whoever is watching, would see all these dead bodies and take immediate action. I'm talking drones, missiles, nukes, bombs, the like.″

I gulped.

″At the same time, if the power comes back on, the central computer could show you where your friend was, if said friend was still moving about.″

I turned my head toward him, though shaking, managed to smile.

″Well, what are you waiting for? Gonna tell me how to turn the power back on or what?″

″You serious?″

I started walking out the room. Even without a light source, I figured it was a linear enough path. Just like Final Fantasy XIII.

″Fuck it!″ He called, and I heard his footsteps darting toward me. ″I'll go with you! You don't even know where it's at!″

I shrugged. ″Here I figured I'd just stumble upon it and it would magically turn on by itself. I may fail my perception checks, but always seem to roll high when it comes to luck.″

″I don't get it, but okay. Say, what's your name?″

″Just call me Cadet Value Village,″ I teased.

No reply. I thought I was being clever.

″Ugh, fine. Name's Blanc.″

That was my name, wasn't it?

Did they give it to me, though, or was it given at all?

Sharp pains could be felt where my arm was supposed to be. Something happened to it, but that still wasn't clear. Nothing was. Whenever I felt onto something, I got lightheaded.

I must have been some zombie, yet again, I wandered those apartment halls, and in that instance, entered the chambers of Juniper's workshop.

She was banging on something, to the right of her was a soldering iron, the left, a whole toolbox. Bolts scattered about, scrap metal hanging around. Not my environment.

I went to tap her on her shoulder. She turned around, arm raised in the air, ready to strike me with a wrench. When I entered, I must not have made a sound. Still in my trance, I tried to catch the wrench before it hit my head, not realizing I was using the arm I didn't have.

It went through the air, yet I still felt the pain. Somehow, things became clear.

″It's me!″ I shouted.

″Oh snap! Shit, dude! Sorry!″ Juniper snapped to her senses as well. ″What's up?″

″I don't know. I feel strange,″ I gestured to my body and placed emphasis on my missing arm. ″I don't feel well.″

She grinned. ″I'm sure it'll be all better once I finish making your new arm!″

I leaned my head over and saw what she was building: some metal frame in the shape of an arm.

″You really don't have to do that...″ I muttered.

She placed her hand on my shoulder. ″I know, but I've never made prosthetic limbs before and I love a challenge! Trent's all like 'we should just ask a professional to issue one. I'm sure I can find someone' but what does he know?″

″I don't know. But I think he has a point...″

″Bah! What do you know? You'd like having two arms, right?″

″Yeah...but really, you don't have to...you don't even know me.″

″Do you know you?″

That question took me aback, but I shook my head.

″People don't just wind up in a park with their arm missing! For all you know, I could've been a neo-nazi! Would you have helped me then?″

″Do you remember being a neo-nazi?″

″No...but I don't remember much of anything.″

″Don't sweat it, kiddo! Trent, Vesuvius, and I are just like that! We saw someone hurt, we wanted to help them.″

″It just feels weird...″ I trembled as I spoke. ″There must have been some reason I ended up the way I did.″

″Blanc, this isn't like you. You're so serious right now. You're usually so carefree.″

″Why can't I be both?″ I flared up. I shouldn't lash out at the one who's giving me a new arm. I couldn't help it, though. ″How do you know what is and isn't like me?″ My hands were shaking now. I looked down. There was only one hand shaking. ″I want to know what's like me! I want to know who I am, who I was! I hate not knowing!″

Ignorance isn't always bliss. It was only a matter of time before the facade dissolved.

Through tears and gritted teeth, I had to accept my position. I apologized for my outburst and returned to the room.

We made our exit, back to back. Although aware of the fates of the soldiers at our feet, we still believed it we had a better chance at survival if we looked to both sides of us.

″Hey, how much further?″ I whispered.

He shushed me and I grimaced. How rude. Why was he allowed to talk my ear off down there but once we got to sneaking around I had to be quiet?

″First of all, how dare you?″ I murmured, and just as I did so, from just down the hall, an explosion occurred. The walls crumbled and out from the newly formed hole was our good friend, Big Frog Man (I didn't know what else to call that thing). The two of us ran for it.

″See what you did?!″ Goodwill chewed me out. ″If you had just kept your mouth shut...″

″Dude, wasn't me! I swear that thing can smell us!″

Private Goodwill took out his gun and for a second, I thought he was going to play soldier. That was, in spite of the fact that I was pretty sure Big Frog Man was immune to bullets, or just ate them. No, instead, he threw his gun at the creature.

″What the fuck? We could have used that!″ It was my turn to give the lecture.

″We've already established I'm no good with guns! Keep running, we're almost there!″

That thing was hot on our tail; the stomping drowning out our own banter and quaking through the halls. Crashing into walls could be heard, reckless abandon and caution to the wind. Metal and concrete meant nothing and these halls were crumbling before us.

″CRONCH!″ Roared Big Frog Man and charged right into us. I felt the mass of the slimy and smooth belly press against me as I fell to the floor. My falling, in turn, caused Private Goodwill to fall.

Looking up at the beast, I realized it now: I wasn't looking at a Big Frog Man, no. Neither man nor frog, but rather a giant toad, mutated to the point of having a marginal humanoid appearance.

The toad raised its webbed bulging fists, and I knew I was about to be smashed. I had no reaction, no response. For so much more I wanted to do, I didn't even try to resist.

Could this be what it means to be happy? To be at peace in spite of being short of realizing a goal?

The fists slammed down, but instead of being crushed, Private Goodwill pulled me away.

″You're not allowed to die until I tell you how to turn the power back on!″ He barked, raising his fist and dragging me to my feet. ″Now let's get a move on!″

I nodded, and we made our best attempt to escape. Of course, Toadie (my new nickname for the thing) over here was enraged, just as one would imagine a toad to be.

″What was the deal back there?!″ Goodwill, too, was enraged. ″It's like you were in some kind of a trance!″

I opened my mouth, but before I could say what I wanted to say, I felt something huge and wet wrap itself around my waist and lift me into the air.

That's right; I forgot toads have tongues. I was going to be eaten, wasn't I?

What I wanted to tell Goodwill was, ″look at that frog!″ But I knew it would have been wrong, for it was a toad, and not a frog.

As the frog gazed at us, we gazed back. Surrounding us was an abyss, although probably real bummed out that no one was paying attention to it.

The frog's head tilted. I still felt sick.

″Come on! Let's get going!″ Mavis yelled.

I nodded, and started to walk away. Mavis ran up to me and held her hand to my back, which prompted me to run with her. The frog humanoid continued to watch and I thought we would get away scot-free.

In response to my thoughts, came a thud as Mavis fell to the floor. I looked down to see something wrapped around her ankle and Mavis screaming.

″IT BURNS!″

I traced my eyes down her, then traced what was attached to her ankle all the way back to the frog humanoid that sat before us; its tongue was wrapped around Mavis and from the looks of it, was squeezing tighter.

I had no weapons on hand. I didn't know what to do. I was still weak and my mind was scrambling.

I should have checked to see if that pistol was loaded. Oh, what good would it have done? What would I do? Shoot through this tongue? Then what? Blood gushing from her ankle, blood everywhere. Then I'd just throw up right on her. Would I really want to do that? Hell no. But I just don't know what to do. Furthermore, and I really considering trying to help out someone I considered an enemy? Well, she did save my life, too, so maybe it's quid pro quo. Except it's not because I've no fuckin' clue how I'm supposed to help her at all and yet here she is wailing and it's not a pretty sight.

I tried pulling Mavis, but she yelped even further.

″STOP! IT'S GETTING TIGHTER!″

In another context, I wouldn't have minded hearing that. Instead, I looked over and faced the freak with the tongue and charged at her, bringing my heel to her face. The frog humanoid reeled back, unlatching its tongue from Mavis and I added another swift kick to the face for good measure.

″Aw, yeah! I've regained my will to live!″ I ran back over to Mavis, who looked like she was working up a sweat.

″C'mon, we're better off running while we still can!″ I picked Mavis up. I was still in a limp, but I was willing to ignore that little detail just so long as we evaded that creature.

″It itches...″ she bemoaned.

″What does?″

I looked down, but couldn't see very well. She was seething, however. Behind me, I noticed the creature, still staring at us, not making a move.

″What does it want?″ I whispered.

Mavis leaned over and lifted her leg. I had my hand on her back, still dragging each other out of harm's way. She scratched at her ankle, meanwhile, and muttering.

″It still burns...″ I heard her say, and scratched harder.

I grabbed her hand. I couldn't believe what I was doing, but it was too late to stop myself.

″Hey!″ I snapped. ″If I have to hold your hand to keep you from tearing yourself up, so be it!″

She shook her head. ″I can't believe even with the sorry state you're in, you still have to show me up.″

I looked away. ″Let's not do this now,″ I scoffed.

Behind us, I could hear ribbit-like sounds.

″Polo...Polo...Polo...″

That's right. Just stay right there. We'll make it one way or another.

There was no making it. I tried to struggle, but all it did was leave me exhausted. I was stuck in place, about to be vored by a toad man.

″Hey! Buddy! Let go of the tourist!″ Demanded a voice I could welcome with open arms, as I felt a pounding against toadie.

I fell, my back taking in the cold and unkind embrace of the steel floor.

When I looked up, Private Goodwill was the one being grabbed by the toad man.

″What are you doing? How am I supposed to turn the central computer on?!″

He smiled and winked. ″Don't worry about it, kid! All you gotta do...″

I heard the words, but they didn't register. All that was being processed is someone I got to know in such a short span was sacrificing themselves before my eyes so that I could do something that would get this whole place destroyed.

″Now run!″ He roared, and I snapped to my senses, sprinting away from the sight. Far off behind me, I could hear a distinct crunching sound. Private Goodwill didn't make it, did he?

Which probably means that wherever Velvet was, she was dead too, wasn't she? God damn it, why am I even doing this?

In spite of those thoughts, I continued running until I reached a large, open room. In the center of the room was a platform with a series of monitors overhead. I ran to the platform and looked all around at the series of buttons and the computer systems that surrounded me.

This must be it. Now, what did Goodwill tell me?

Just a series of muffled noise. None of it did me any good.

Come on, brain! I pleaded. But my brain refused to listen. What good was having a brain if it didn't do its job?

Frustrated, I kicked one of the computers, and while it wasn't the smartest decision, I leaned over, and noticed a little switch off to the side. I pressed it, and all at once, a pulsating blue light illuminated the surrounding walls and ran its way across each hall.

I blinked, dumbfounded.

″I...I did it.″ Then I blinked once more. I grinned. ″Oh my god! That's all it took?″

I was about to jump for joy before noticing a translucent tall figure with silver hair standing off to the side, outside the platform.

″What a pleasant surprise. Hello, mistake,″ the figure uttered a hollow voice.

″Etna! It's been a while!″ I waved. I'd recognize that voice anywhere. ″What's up?″

″Enjoying an age of happiness thanks to my corporation,″ was her reply, lifeless as ever. She closed her false eyes and all was still. Then, she smiled. ″Unfortunately, our reunion must be short lived. Such a mess has been made of this place.″

She spread her arms out, and the next thing I heard was an echoing throughout.

″THIS FACILITY WILL SELF-DESTRUCT IN THREE MINUTES.″

I gave the wall a series of kicks. Mavis was standing just behind me, watching. I had let go of her as soon as the lights went on, thinking I could trust her not to have to hold her all the time.

″Great! What was the point in me even coming here if the whole place is going to be destroyed anyway?!″ After gaining some hope, the lights just had to come on and I just HAD to get that message proving that I really am just a reckless fool.

″I still don't know why you came here in the first place,″ Mavis replied, her delivery deadpan.

I laughed.

″You wanna know? You really wanna know? The whole reason I came here was so I could get fuel for the ship I stole from you guys in the first place! Happy now?″

″All that for jet fuel?″ She looked taken aback. ″You risked your life for...you know what? I can't believe you! I should just kill you right here.″ She said, before wincing.

I looked down. There was a deep, red rash spread around her ankle and it looked like the skin on her lower leg had just been torn off. She reached down to itch, and I snapped my fingers and pointed at her.

″Don't you even dare!″

″What does it matter? We're going to be obliterated anyway. Let me itch.″

″No!″ Then something clicked. ″I think that frog thing's tongue is poisonous...″

″Don't you mean venomous?″ She corrected.

″Why are we arguing when we're about to die?″ I shot right back.

She groaned. There was no sign of that frog thing on either end of the hall. I breathed a sigh of relief before remembering that where I stood would soon be a pile of rubble. My attention reverted to Mavis Beacon, who was scratching at herself.

″Hey! If you keep doing that you'll only have one foot to walk on!″

″What does it matter? We'll both die before then!″

Here we were again with the 'we're just going to die anyway' talk. It seemed like we kept passing each other a determination ball and whoever didn't hold the ball at the time had to hold the other one. It looked to be my turn to hold the ball.

I grabbed her hand. ″Because we're getting out of here!″ She stared, the look she was giving me one of confusion; in response, I had no choice but to look away. Whatever was going through her head, together we ran for it. It has been said that you can do plenty of things given enough confidence.

I'm pretty sure there's no path that can get us out of here in under three minutes, but let's see where this fake confidence takes us.

″Since I'm probably not getting out of here alive, can I at least ask you a few questions?″

Etna looked annoyed, like I wasn't taking the situation seriously, but the opposite was true.

″First, this has been on my mind for a while: what did you mean when I met you three years ago when you said 'there should never exist more than one of someone'? Didn't you kill the previous me right before I got there? So wouldn't that have meant there was no need to kill me?″

″Still, you had seen too much, you knew too much. You were somewhere you shouldn't and --″

″That doesn't change what you said!″ I interrupted. ″And what about me being a mistake?″

She shrugged and smiled. ″No matter. The world has changed in three years' time, just as it should. When we had that encounter, my company was still in its early stages, confined for the moment, to a single city. Even if your creation was a success, it was a mistake to allow your previous self to live as long as they did, let alone interact with you. Now, with our influence spread across the globe and our products expanding, whether you live or die is of little consequence.″

″Expanding? Expanding how?″

″We have entire rail systems dedicated to replacing people with more subservient and emotionally stable versions of themselves. In addition, it is mostly bloodless. With the elevators that are available, multiple people can ride and each get transported to their desired destination. No interference occurs with multiple people riding these subways and elevators and those who arrive at the desired destination are reported to be in better spirits than the ones who went in.″

Her rhetoric made it sound less invasive and evil than before, but there was still the implication that everyone was under her corporation's control at all times.

″So if whether I live or die doesn't affect you, can't you shut off the self-destruct sequence?″

Etna's expression changed from pride to a look of disgust.

″You aren't the problem. It's the other intruders.″

″Hey!″ My eyes lit up and I realized something. ″We have a common enemy, then! We can work together!″

″No.″ She shot me down fast. ″It would be much more efficient to demolish the facility than leave it as is. We have technology which can replicate entire buildings within seconds. Soldiers are easy enough to produce. It will be as if nothing As I said, whether you live or die is of little consequence. But make no mistake: you will die.″

The certainty of it all, the inevitability, her apathy. I had no words. I let out a sigh, knowing that unless I brought forth Euphy, there would be little I could do.

″Fine,″ I relented. ″At least let me ask one last thing.″

″Very well.″

″Is Velvet still alive? Is she safe? That's all I want to know!″

″That second-rate hacker?″

I gulped. ″Y-Yes?″

″She is alive. However, time is just about up.″

″Don't you think it's been more than three minutes?″

I didn't want to think about that. So that's exactly what I did. Not think about it.

″Shouldn't we dead?″

Still wasn't thinking about it. Nope.

Ahead were bodies of soldiers, still no end to the maze. I turned to Mavis who was trying to get me to admit how lucky we were to be alive.

″Do you know where we are?″

She shrugged. ″Sure, if I was at a computer, I could pull something up.″

″We don't have time to go back!″ I snarled. ″Any second, this place will blow!″

″You think I don't know that? I'm the one who's been reminding you.″

Constantly.

I shook my head. ″As long as we're still alive, we need to keep moving.″

She crouched down, short on breath. ″I don't get you,″ She huffed. ″What's the point? It's going to explode and we're both going to --″

″Because,″ I cut her off. I would have yelled, chewed her out, except I was a little tired out as well. ″I hate sitting around and waiting for death!″

″But it's hopeless!″

″Who cares if it's hopeless?! I'd rather die in the midst of trying than die doing nothing at all! Maybe it's not the right way to go but it's what I know best! If I'm not on my toes, I'm not happy!″

Mavis stared, wide-eyed, but not at me. Her gaze shifted above me. I thought she would be moved by my words, but nope. I frowned, crossed my arms, and looked up. Hanging from the ceiling was our good ol' frog friend.

We really should have died by now.

″Where's the earth-shattering kaboom?″ Etna wondered. ″There was supposed to be an earth-shattering kaboom.″

Indeed, I was still standing, and so was the facility.

″I can answer that,″ entered a muffled voice, something like Bane from Christopher Nolan's Batman, only a little higher on the register.

I looked in the direction of the voice and out from the shadows stepped a tall figure in a trench coat, wearing a salamander mask and a top hat so as to obscure their face. In their hands was a tablet.

″My friends and I would not appreciate it if this area were to cease so soon. Thus, I halted your sequence.″

Etna growled. There was a hint of fang being bared, and the idea of her showing any kind of emotion put me at further unease than I otherwise would have.

″Very well. I have business elsewhere,″ she started walking away, before exchanging looks with both the figure in the trench coat and I. ″There are explosives placed within the walls throughout. While the damage output of each explosive is small, and not as immediate as I would have liked, I think you will find the results most satisfactory.″

She disappeared, off to wherever AI CEOs go when they need to take a chill pill. My guess was virtual golf.

″She took the bait...″ The figure observed.

″Bait?″ I tilted my head.

I wasn't sure about this trench coated figure, nor the situation I was entrenched in. With Etna gone, I thought a weight would have been lifted, but then there was the thing about the explosives, and I wasn't yet sure what my next move should have been.

″I want to talk,″ they explained. I guess. Seemed to be dodging the subject.

″Fuck you! I've been talking to people all day!″ I cupped my hands and yelled. It should have ended with that, but apparently that wasn't good enough. The large figure set down their tablet and ran toward me. I tried to get out of the way; I jumped over the console, but the figure caught my right arm before I could get to the other side.

″You don't understand,″ the figure whispered, leaning against me, the cold mask a mere inch from my own face. ″I want to talk about happiness.″

″Yeah? What do you want to know?″ I tried breaking free, but the grip was too tight.

″I want to know happiness.″

″Shit, dude, me too!″

I tried kicking them in the crotch, but they backed away, still holding onto my arm.

″The fact of the matter is, I can keep pulling and dislocate your arm. Or, even better, rip it off. On top of that, the surrounding area is set to explode.″

Now here's Mark with the weather.

″However, it doesn't have to be this way.″

″Yeah, I know! You could let go for one!″

″My leader, Marco, has told me a lot about you. He tells me you have a way of getting through anything through a being called 'Euphoria'.″

″I don't even know who Marco is!″

Whoever this Marco person was, I could feel a sensation across every portion of my skin akin to someone dropping thousands of pins and needles. The idea that someone I didn't know would know about Euphoria and my connection to her was one I didn't want to think about, yet here the idea was in my face.

I used my free hand and punched the threat in the face with enough force to crack the mask. They reeled back and loosened their grip just enough to give me the opportunity to jump over and run out of the way. I kept running until I reached the corner next to one of the hallways, and just as I did so, an explosion went off and the shock wave sent me flying forward, burns across my back. I fell on my face and struggled to get up, the pain a force much like a brick being dropped on me. Except I was the brick. I screamed, but managed to pick myself up.

″Ah, it's starting...″ My delegated opponent observed.

I looked over, still standing in the center, with the consoles.

Right next to me was an iron rod. How convenient. I picked it up and stood tall, or in as serious of a stance as I could manage with my weak knees.

″How amusing. You wish to make a spectacle of yourself?″ They bellowed, before making an uproarious laughter, which seemed to grow just as the room around us was catching fire.

I huffed. ″I wish to see the face of my enemy!″

″As you wish,″ they chuckled, then took off their top hat and tossed it aside. Next came the mask, which as it lifted, I could see a smile creep its way along, spreading across the entirety of their face.

That's when I remembered Private Goodwill. Trench coat, tablet, toad...

″You're...″ I was about to burst into laughter as well. ″You're a Wooper!″

Just about my favorite pokemon ever, was staring me in the face. Well, minus the face antennae thing. Still, this was like a dream come true. It was too bad a wooper in a trench coat wanted to torture me for whatever reason.

″...I'm...what?″ The wooper was dumbfounded.

″No...that's not right. Pokemon aren't real. You must be one of those frogs!″

Frog-girl leaped down, but I jumped out of the way just in time.

″Polo! Polo!″ Her tongue was flapping about, but seemed to make no attempt to use it.

Mavis gave the frog-girl a swift kick to the face. ″This is for my ankle!″

Mavis swerved around as the frog held both hands up to her face.

″Po...lo...″

We ran off together. Just behind us, a blast tore into my eardrums. I looked back to see the walls behind us tear apart, one by one, and closing in on us. Flashes of light and heat great brighter and burned with greater intensity.

I see now. This is what should have killed us.

″Think the frog lived?″

I shook my head as we ran. ″The explosion must have boiled the frog.″

Oh, but I stood corrected. Above us sprang forward something pink, like a string. I didn't have to speculate on what it was, for our pursuer flew forward, propelled by her tongue.

″No. More than a frog,″ I gasped. ″Something else entirely.″

″I'm an axolotl!″

″Which is...?″

″An amphibian of sorts. Though it would be a disservice to say that's what I am truly. I was a human once, a scientist. My brethren started as frogs, toads, newts, you name it. I am an exception. I conducted experiments on the ones who would become my brothers and sisters, marveling at such results, I wanted to be a part of it. I took the blood of a salamander and --″

″Did I ask for your backstory?″ I groaned.

They shook their adorable, yet sinister head. ″I suppose not.″

The ceiling above was crumbling. Pillars dropping from above. The consoles got smashed by the falling pillars and I watched in awe as the axolotl person jumped out of the way and barreled toward me, arms stretched out.

I swung the rod overhand, but the axolotl caught it, held it tight, lifted the rod, along with me, into the air, and flipped me over. I landed on my back, and I thought I could feel my ribcage shatter, though it could have just been the pain telling me 'hey you've got some, um, broken bones'.

The axolotl leaned over, its sinister cute smile staring me down.

″Mr. Periwinkle, the toad, killed Private Goodwill, who died in order to bring you here. Polo, the frog, is confronting Velvet as we speak. Velvet, the one you came back here to save, when you could have stayed behind with Euphoria. You would have been fine. You can still be fine. All you see before you can be saved.″

″How do you know any of this?!″ I demanded, my voice wheezing.

″Marco told me all about you.″

″I don't know who that is! I already told you!″

The axolotl person planted one of their feet right on my chest.

″Don't you have any desires? Any goals of your own? Anything that makes you happy?″

I didn't even think I could bring Euphoria here if I wanted to. It wasn't like I wanted all this to happen before me, but I didn't know how to tell her that I needed her.

That's because you told her you didn't want her help. Now look what you did.

Their heel dug in further. I was being toyed with. Slowly squished like a bug, if I was even given that opportunity.

″What about you?″ I shot right back.

″Me? Why I desire happiness, just as everyone does. I wish to meet Euphoria, devour her, and gain her abilities. I wish to see a world in which a new species flourishes – neither human nor amphibian, but something between the two, something greater. Once that species takes over, that's when this world will be a better place.″

″Devour?″ I gulped, and asked.

″Marco told me it's possible. I have no reason to disbelieve him, not when he's given the amphibian people a home they otherwise wouldn't have.″

None of those things mattered to me and saying so didn't seem to register to this creature. Saying so at this point wouldn't matter either, but I knew now that there was no way I could bring Euphoria here, again, even if I could. I wasn't sure if it was truly possible to devour a formless angel, but I couldn't risk it.

I didn't know what to do, but if I could do anything, if there was some kind of miracle that could be performed, I wanted to fight back. I wanted Velvet to fight back as well. I wanted her to survive, even if I didn't.

First I was afraid, I was petrified. I thought things would end for us then and there. Explosions behind us, frog-girl in front of us. Mavis leaned over, however.

″Mind if I split?″ She turned to me and asked.

″What?″

″Just hold off froggy, 'kay?″

I growled before restraining myself. I had to remember I was looking a younger version of myself.

As Mavis ran off, the frog-girl hopped after her, but I ran up to give that frog a good kick in the face. That time, luck was not on my side (though the times it was I could count on one hand). Frog-girl wrapped her tongue around my shoe. Fuck this, I'm not sharing the same fate as Mavis Beacon over there.

I took off my other shoe and whacked the frog humanoid's tongue.

″Get out of the way!″ I heard Mavis' smug voice come back into view.

″I'm trying!″ I yelled back.

I decided to take off my shoe in an act of desperation and bolted for it.

In front of me was Mavis, holding a machine gun, and standing next to the corpse of a fallen soldier.

″What do you know? This thing still has bullets!″ She winked. I stood beside her and she pulled the trigger, unloading on the frog humanoid.

I wiped sweat from my forehead and smiled.

That should have been the end of it, but frog-girl over there still stood, having caught each clip with her tongue, and tossed them all aside. She then hopped after us.

″What. The. Fuck.″ I mouthed. There was nothing else I could say. No other emotions I could convey. Mavis and I looked at each other, and ran for it once again. Every so often she would look back and try firing a bit. All the while, more explosions tore apart the walls.

Fires erupted further and all the while, the surrounding walls were torn apart. This room, the size of a warehouse, was becoming a wasteland. I was positioned on the floor, being trampled on. However, I had my hands free.

Using what strength I could, I grabbed the iron rod and jammed it through the axolotl's leg. I pulled it out, as well as pulled their leg off me, and picked myself up. Blood and pus covered my shirt, having trickled down from the pierced leg.

Aside from a faint yelp, the axolotl gave no sign of pain and instead smiled wider.

″Ah, what a wonderful feeling.″

The consoles themselves caught fire and I dipped the tip of the iron rod in the fire, and just in time. As the axolotl reached toward me, I stabbed their arm, just below their shoulder, and pushed through, then pulled the rod up, and watched as the arm hung down, by just a thread of skin.

The axolotl roared and bellowed and I was huffing and puffing, marveling at what I had done and what I felt I had to do to defend myself. What I heard, what I saw, as blood sprinkled out from the socked where the arm should have been, indicated true pain.

″I...I did it...″ I didn't have powers like my other self. I didn't have Ecstasy or whatever else, but I still managed to hold my own.

The axolotl reeled their head back and seethed before leaning it forward and flashing a toothy, menacing grin.

Another arm sprang forth, growing out from the wound inflicted, and now there were two arms where there should have been one. Now I was dealing with a three-armed beast. Not only that, it seemed to be that the axolotl's leg wound already healed up.

″Don't you know anything about salamanders?″

″No. Marine biology wasn't my major. What the fuck?″

″Allow me to return the favor,″ the creature cackled before snatching the iron rod that I held with one hand, and pulling on the arm that held it with the other, both of the arms being on one side of the creature's body.

I screamed, as the socket was pulled, and dislocated.

″STOP!″ I screeched.

″Show me Euphoria. You don't have to endure this pain,″ was all the creature said.

I tried. I tried thinking that if all this went away, the axolotl, the explosions, everything, I would be happy. I thought that if my arm was still intact and I wasn't in any pain, surely then I would be happy. But nothing came of such thoughts.

″I can't...″ I sobbed.

″Then you're no good to me,″ was all the reply I got before my arm tore off and blood sprayed out from me in every direction. My screams were endless and all I could do was watch my severed arm being held onto by this creature. My vision became blurred, and I grew weak and weary.

″If you wanted to, all you have to say is 'having both arms again would make me happy' and it would be done. Think about it.″

I couldn't think about it. I couldn't think at all. It was all too much.

In a rather unconscious motion, I turned to my side and grabbed the rod with my remaining arm, not paying mind to the blood loss or its dizzying effects.

″You would rather keep fighting with no goal or purpose in mind than allow yourself to be happy? Why?″

″Because!″ I seethed. ″I don't know how to be happy!″

I could never figure out who I was, even after being saved by Conrad and Velvet three years ago, but I sure as hell would fight until my last breath to return the favor.

Sure. Maybe I won't get my arm back. Maybe I'll never be happy. But I don't really matter anyway.

″There!″ She announced. ″You now have a new arm!″

The pain was indescribable...something foreign pressing against me and making a new home within my body. It didn't seem like I could even move it around all that much; it was all loose and clunky. Still, I looked at Juniper.

″Thank you,″ I winced. The pain was enough to bring me to tears, but I think I would get used to it in time. I had to endure. I was on my way to a better life, whatever that meant.

Trent, Vesuvius, and Juniper were all standing there in her shop. I looked at each of them. Trent with his trepidation, Vesuvius inspecting my reaction, and Juniper, excited with her creation.

″I still think we should find someone to make them a legitimate prosthetic,″ Trent pointed out.

″I admit it's not perfect,″ Juniper tried saving face. ″What do you think, though, Blanc?″

I looked down on it. I wasn't sure if I could move these metallic 'fingers' yet, but I think it had its charms.

″It's great!″ I looked up and cheered. ″I'm really glad to have it!″ I waved it around and it felt like it would come apart any minute.

″Oh, but Blanc,″ Vesuvius inquired. ″Aren't you worried about your memories? Now that you're a little more healed up, don't you want to go back to your life before?″

That was right. I still didn't remember much, if anything at all. There came another sharp pain, but this one not seemed to have been inflicted by my new arm. This one was entirely on my face. Tears welled up, but I didn't know why.

″Blanc! Why are you crying?″

I wiped my face. I didn't know why I was trying, truth be told.

″Guys,″ I told them. ″I'm really happy living like this.″

″DYING IS OKAY IF YOU'RE HAPPY!″

That was what Euphoria told me when I asked about Velvet. But here I was, swinging an iron rod around, flailing around and missing this creature with every attempt at a strike. They grabbed the rod once more and kicked me down.

I fell once more and once again the creature stepped on me. I thought I could have kept going just a little longer, but I was mistaken.

DYING IS OKAY IF YOU'RE HAPPY.

But I wasn't happy and yet here I was, dying. Euphoria, you were supposed to be my guardian angel, and yet you weren't showing up.

″I don't want to die...″ I tried to say. The creature pressed their foot down so tight, though, that I couldn't find enough air.

Sure, I didn't want to die, but what did I want?

My eyes closed.

I couldn't ever figure that out. I wanted to know who I was for a while, but then after a while I think I realized that it never really mattered who I was. What mattered were the others who had goals in mind. Velvet wasn't too sure, but she wanted to make a difference in her own way. She was finding her happiness. I already found mine and still wasn't satisfied.

Conrad, my other self, they had The Flashbulb, but I never cared about any of that. My life was short and if anything could make me happy, it would be knowing that I could have done something to make someone else's life better than my own. But I wasn't even sure at this point if it was possible.

The air around me started to leave. I could feel the bones in me crack, and although the heel of my opponent let go, by then, everything was already fading. My eyes were open, as open as I could get them and I could make out the faint image of the axolotl, who I never even learned the name of, walking away, down some chamber through the floor that I never noticed. I thought that if I focused enough, I could see my severed arm being carried down with the figure.

I coughed up blood.

Can't say for sure...think a bone pierced my heart...a lot's leaking out. Maybe other organs too. Everything is failing me. I failed everyone.

I turned my head, my mouth, chin and neck covered in blood, and saw the shadow of two people running into the fiery room where I lay.

Are they running toward me?

It didn't seem to matter. I was going to miss everyone. I think I would miss Euphy most of all, the one who never came. It was hard to say whether that was a good thing or a bad thing. It was hard to say what anything was at all. More blood coughed up. Heavy gasp. I couldn't even say a word.

#happiness overload #area 51 #frogs #action #horror #surreal #adventure #happiness #euphoria #chrono trigger #writing #stories #writers on tumblr #happy #tragedy #velvet #etna #gumby

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imagineswriting47 · 7 years ago

Text

Wanted

A/N: This is for the Anon who asked Hiii can I request an Alec Lightwood / Matthew Daddario imagine? Reader is a rogue Shadowhunter that's been hunted by the Clave, so they send Alec after the reader. And they fall into a cat-mouse sort of game until Alec catches reader and reader kisses him, causing him to shock which gives reader time to escape? You can edit it if you didn't like the idea. I changed it some hope you don’t mind.

All editing mistakes are mine sorry. I am also going to keep requests open a couple more days so keep sending them in.

Summary: Reader is wanted by the Clave for her crime but its not all they made it out to be.

Warnings: None

Paring: Mentioned Magnus Bane/Alec Lightwood

Standing there on the roof after catching my breath I look down at the Shadowhunters that had been running after me I can't help but let out a laugh causing the four of them to look up to me all of them breathing heavily after the chase. With the heightened sight can tell that there are two girls and two boys down there on the street. Looking up at me with anger clear on their faces from me getting away from them.

“The Clave has been trying to get me for years what makes you think you can!” I yell down at them before turning and walking across the roof away from them; not giving them the time to answer or to get up here on the roof with me.

“You can't run forever!” I hear yelled from the street from one of the girls. Making me smile once again but it is anything but a happy smile; it was more of a grimace. Running is what I excel at now; but I don't want to run forever. This is not what I expected from life, and not where I wanted to be but I will make the most of it.

“Watch me.” I mumble to myself before breaking into another run across the remaining rooftop. I Jump from rooftop to rooftop making my way across the city much faster than I would if I was on the ground; but also loving being up here on the rooftops. Loving the wind in my face and the feeling of being free if only for a moment. Getting back to the apartment that I have been staying at since I got to the city, taking a deep breath I open the window out on the fire escape and climb into my apartment. Throwing my jacket across the one chair I walk over to the couch and drop down onto it; before toeing off my shoes. Letting out a deep breath I grab the blanket off of the back of the couch, pulling it across my lap I allow myself to get a couple hours of sleep. Knowing that for now I'm still free. Even If I do have work in the morning.

I wake up to the sun in my face telling me that I got more than six hours of sleep which is not something that I normally get. Pulling my shoes back on I grab some money and walk out to the street; keeping my head down to help me go unnoticed. Being invisible keeps me safe from the life that wants mine in anger.

I walk to a little bakery that is down the street; I order a bagel with cream cheese and some coffee before walking to a table that is at the back leaving me with a perfect view of the door. Allowing me to watch the door and have no one at my back to surprise me.

I watch people come and go from the bakery as they go about their lives without any of the knowledge about what is really going on around them. They don’t know about angels and demons and I envy them for that. Finishing off my coffee I stand up from my table and make my way out. I walk around the city before making my way to Central Park before heading to work.

When I first got to the city I had no plan to stay any length of time knowing that there was a big groups of Shadowhunters that resided in the city. But I fell in love with the city the moment I saw it; having never been to the States before I could not imagine going anywhere else. I felt comfortable here almost like I was home here. I quickly found a place to say using the last of the money that I had on me. The place was nothing great in all honesty. But it quickly became home; became all that I needed. Even if I was all alone here in this city.

Work was harder to find in the city but not impossible. I found work in a little shop on a street that the tourists do go to. It was perfect in every way, I made enough money to survive and not a lot of people came into the shop and that was just the way I liked it. Working with books was the best, and old books were even better. The woman that I worked for was kind. She took care of me when I need it. I love her like family.

Standing there behind the counter I watch people walk in front of the shop window. Deciding that it is going to be a slow day I rearrange the shelves and clean the dust from the books. I clean with a smile on my face when the door rings telling me that someone has walked into the shop.

“Mrs. Rogers how nice to see you!” I exclaim when I see who walked into the shop.

“I just came to see how you are doing to day. And to bring you some lunch.” Mrs. Rogers says to me as she walks slowly over to the counter.

Mrs. Rogers was a kind older lady of 78 its her book store that I am working in. She was kind and hired me on the spot when I walked in looking for a job. She claimed that she could see the I just needed someone to take a chance on me.

“You didn’t have to do that.” I say as I walk over to wear she stands and pulls out a chair for her from behind the counter.

“Indulge an old lady.” She says to me as I take a seat next to her. Mrs. Rogers takes the food out of the bag for the both of us. Having more than enough for the both of us to eat.

“So tell me Mrs. Rogers how have you been.” I say after a mouth full of my sandwich. She starts to tell me how she has been going dancing at the small church that she goes to. And all the men that she has been dancing with. After her husband died Mrs. Rogers was left all alone. Her own kinds having moved away for collage and then not coming back. Meaning that she has taken me in and started to treat me like her own child.

She stays late into the afternoon talking to me as we finish the lunch that she brought and as I work around the small shop. She leaves about an hour before I close the shop up to make her way home before the streets got even busier from other people that were getting off work. Money counted and moved to the safe in the back room. I close and lock up the shop with every plan to go home and not spend the whole of my night running from Shadowhunters. But nothing ever goes the way that I want when the sun goes down and the demons come out to play.

I was about ten minutes away from home when I heard it. The sounds of fighting going on down one of the allies that lead off of the main road. And judging by the fact that no other person is taking notice of the sound tells me that no one else can hear it, meaning shadow world. I slowly make my way over the the alley activating my glamor so the mundanes can't see. The Alley is dark and no place any sane person would want to walk this time of day.

I find a lone Shadowhunter fighting a group of ten demons and he is in no way able to handle them all; what I want to know is why is he alone he should have a partner. My first thought is to turn and leave the Shadowhunter on his own to deal with the demons but the decent part of me won't let me do that knowing that is left on his own that the demons would overpower him and kill him.

Taking out the blade that I always keep hidden on me I run down the alley and take out the first demon that I come across. With my help we easily take out the demons with the last of the demons bursting into flames the Shadowhunter that I helped turns and looks at me. “You!” He yells when he looks at me.

“Me?”

“You're under arrest under the authority of the Clave.” He says as he takes a step towards me. Great just what I need.

“Not again.” I mumble as I take off running down the alley. I can hear his footfalls behind me as he runs to try and catch up with me. Glad for the glamor that I activated I can try to lose him in the crowds that New York is famous for. Making sure that I don't run into to people I make my way down a side street. With his foot steps still adable behind me I know that I need to find some place to get out of sight and pray to the Angel that he does not find me.

Finding a small gap between two apartment buildings I make my way down them only to hear a strangled cry sound from behind me. Slowing my run I turn and see him on the ground with another demon to top of him; about to take a bite out of his neck. The man doesn't seem to be having any luck today when it comes to demons.

“Crap.” I gasp out between the harsh breaths. Once more I decide to save his ass from demons knowing that I could not live with myself if I let an innocent man die because I would do anything to help him. The blade once more in my hand I strike the demon down but not before it managed to get its teeth into his neck.

“Listen I need you to tell me where your Iratze is; I need to activate it.” I say trying to get him to tell me. He points to his side lifting the black t shirt out of my way I activate the rune. The Shadowhunter has passed out from the pain in the wound; I feel around his pockets hoping to find a cell phone and call someone. Knowing that I can't just leave him in the alleyway. Finding his phone in his left pocket I pull it out. I try to turn it on but I find that when one of the demons attacked him he must have broken his phone. It wont even turn on.

“Why me.” I activate my strength rune hoping that I will be enough to carry the man on the ground. Bending down I get my hands under his legs and his arms and lift him up. Thank the Angel for the strength rune even if it will not last long. I make my way to my apartment glade that in my running I have gotten closer to the building. Leaving my only four blocks from my home.

Once in the apartment I lay him down in the couch. I grab the blanket and lay it across him before walking into the kitchen pulling the things out of the fridge I would need to make a fresh vegetable soup it set to work on making my guest and I some dinner. It does not take me long as this has been something that I make a lot of beeing one of my favorites.

Leaving it to cook some I walk to the bedroom and get myself something clean to wear. Once i have them pulled on I pull my hair up into a bun getting it off my neck. Washing my face from the sweat that I have from all the running that I have done today. Walking back out of my room I close the door behind me before making my way back to the kitchen and pulling out the bowls and spoons and set them on the counter.

It is then that I hear the groan come from the couch. Looking over to him I can see him wipe his hands across his face before he opens his eyes. The confusion that goes across his face is almost laughable. But the look on his face when he remembers what just happened does make me start laughing causing him to jump up off the couch. He reaches for his weapons but finding them gone I say.

“I took them I'm not that stupid.” A smile on my face. “Would you like something to eat?” I ask as I motion to the stove and the pot of soup that is ready. When he says nothing I take that for a no.

“Well more for me.” I say as I turn my back and make myself a bowl. Grabbing my spoon I turn back to look at him.

“Why?” I hear him ask.

“Why what?” I know what he is asking I kinda just want to hear him say it.

“Why did you help me?”

“Yes I forgot I'm a criminal to the Clave. I guess they just didn't tell you why am I right? I’m not the horrible person they make me out to be you know. Are you sure you don't want any, I just made it.” I say to him as I continue to eat my soup.

“Why are you keeping me here?” The man asked.

“I’m not. You are free to go whenever you want, the door is not locked.” I motion to the door that leads out of the apartment. He turns and looks at the door with a frown on his face. He is trying to figure out what game I am playing at.

“I’m not deceiving you sweetheart, I really have no reason to keep you here. I got to leave my home now because of you.I’m Y/N by the way; and you are?” I finally ask him. I know that he knows who I am he just tried to arrest me, but I am being polite and I want to find out his name too.

“Alec. Alec Lightwood” He states simple as he turns and looks at me.

“You're the head of the Institute right?” He nods his head yes at my question. I set my bowl down on the table behind me it make an audible clunk as I do.

“Look if you are not going to eat, I want you to go; I now have packing to do because of you. I’ll give you back your weapons if you promise to leave when I do.” I say to Alec as I stand up straight.

“Why are you wanted by the Clave?” Alec asks me as he once again takes a seat on my couch.

“Why do you care?” I ask. You can hear the bitterness in my voice for what the Clave has done to me. But also the sadness for having to leave behind the only thing I have ever known. My home and my family my way of life and what I loved doing. Protecting people.

“Why did you save me?” He ask in retort to my question.

“Fair enough Alec. I went against orders; the wanted to kill a Warlock for a crime the he obviously had nothing to do with. A child could have told them that, they just wanted to kill him. I wasn’t going to let them kill an innocent man. So I helped him get away simple as that. I freed an innocent man from death and now the Clave wants my life in return for his.” I answer simply deciding that the short answer would be better than the longer one.

“You saved a downworlder?” You can hear the confusion in his voice when he asks me this question.

“Don't tell me you think all downworlders deserve to die. They are human too and I am sworn to protect human life.” I state the anger in my voice almost pliable.

“No I don't think that way I'm just surprised is all.”

“Surprised that someone care more about life than duty?” I ask him

“No surprised that you gave up everything for a downworlder. Not many would do that.” He says to me.

“I'm not like most people. And judging by the fact that you have not tried anything yet I would say you are to.” I say as I walk across the room and take a seat on the other side of the room from him.

“How do I know that you are not lieing to me?” He asks more to himself than to me.

“You don't. But you also must realize that I have nothing to lose to you by telling the truth. But everything to gain. My life is now in your hands; you can take me and turn me in or you can just walk away and let me live the mundane life that I have built for myself here in this city.” You can hear the truth but also the begging in my words that I have just spoken.

“What was the Warlocks name?”

“Zane. Zane Townson, why?” I ask Alec.

“I know the High Warlock here in New York he can find out if you story is true or not.” He says as he stands up from the couch. I walk into the kitchen and grab his weapons. Walking back into the room I give them back to him before saying.

“You might want to get going people are going to start looking for you soon if they don't hear from you. Oh and your cell it broke. I was just going to call someone from it to come and help you but….” I give him back his phone last.

He doesn't say anything as he walks out the door. When the door closes behind him I set to work on packing the things that I can take with me right now and leave the things that I will have to get once I get a new place to stay. It is well into the next day when I hear a knock on the door.

I jump into the air in fright. Not expecting anyone and knowing that no one knows where I live except Alec. Grabbing a blade from the bedside table I make my way to the door. Looking through the peephole I find that is is just Alec standing on the other side. I open the door but do not put the blade down as I let him into the apartment.

“I asked Magnus about your story. And he found Zane; he said you really did that.” Alec says to me once the door is closed not even bothering to turn around and talk to my face. I think I can almost hear pride in his voice as I walk around to stand in front of him.

“Magnus?” I ask in confusion

“Magnus Bane the High Warlock and….my boyfriend.” He says in a smaller voice at the end when he tells me that Magnus is his boyfriend. So Alec knows what it is like to care for someone you are told not to. He might just be what the Shadow world needs right now.

“Oh.” I say to him

“I'm not going to turn you in. I’m also going to get the New York Institute to stop looking for you as the head of it I can help you. But you are going to have to help me as well. If I ever call you to help you have to come.” He says to me like the leader that he is.

“I can do that.” I say simple. Happy to just be aloud to live my life and not be turned over to the Clave.

“I have to go Y/N. And thank you for saving my life my siblings and I have your back now.” He walks back to the door and pulls it open. Alec has stepped out of the door before I have the chance to call out to him.

“Alec wait! He stops and doesn't say anything as he turns and looks at me. “Thank you.” I kiss him on the cheek before closing the door. I think I have made an ally maybe a friend someday. But only time can tell.

A/N: I want to thank you for reading. If you liked hit that heart. now if you loved this hit the re blog. hope to hear from you soon!!

#shadowhunters #shadowhunters runes #Shadowhunters Fandom #shadowhunters fanfiction #shadowhunters imagine #Alec Lightwood #alec lightwood imagine #Magnus Bane

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trueloveseyeroll · 7 years ago

Text

When The Tide Turns (7/16)

Summary: The plan was to go to England, finish the case and head back home in a matter of days. Of course, nothing in Emma’s life ever goes according to plan. Not only does she end up travelling across Europe, looking for a Liam Jones in order to finish her case, she ends up travelling with Liam’s brother - an annoyingly handsome Killian Jones. And she doesn’t trust him one bit.

Rating: T, for language and a bit of violence later on

Beta-reader: Aina ( @forget-me-not-s ) has been such an invaluable help to me, especially with these next few chapters. Emma and Killian are headed for Barcelona, and unfortunately, I’ve only been there once myself. Aina, however, is from Barcelona, so obviously she’s been wonderful in helping me figure out where Emma and Killian should go and how to get the atmosphere of the city right. So THANK YOU, AINA!!!

Artists: these artists are seriously such talentented and amazing people, and they deserve so much praise!!! @theblacksiren - check out her beautiful artwork for chapter 1 here! @optomisticgirl created the awesome banner - and @fairytalesandtimetravel has created a true masterpiece for a later chapter, and it honestly brings tears to my eyes, it’s so beautiful.

Word count: ~3781 (68k+ in total)

A/N: just wanna give a huge thank you for the response I’ve gotten for this story, both here on tumblr and on ao3. I love hearing your thoughts, and I really hope you’re enjoying this little adventure! Now, on with the chapter! :)))

AO3

Emma’s day turned out to be quite busy - way too busy for someone who had barely slept all night and was living off coffee.

After she and Killian had agreed that going to Barcelona was their best option, Emma had to call the office and give them an update. Regina wasn’t thrilled with Emma’s progress. She certainly wasn’t thrilled with Emma going to Barcelona. But their work back in New York, trying to track Liam down through digital means wasn’t going very well either.

A stroke of luck (and a hasty packing and farewell to Belle) allowed Emma and Killian to be on the bus out of Valadilene two hours after their discovery of the clue. Another three and a half hours, and they were on the plane to Barcelona, ready for take-off.

Emma smiled at Mary Margaret’s text (just heard about Barcelona! Have fun!) and was about to set her phone to flight mode when another text chimed in.

And I hope you have time to call soon and tell me more about who this Killian Jones is... Other than him being Liam’s brother obviously. MM xx

Emma peeked at Killian beside her. She’d won the window seat, leaving him between her and some guy who might as well have listened to music without headphones, as loud as was he blasting it. Killian’s eyes were set on the seat in front of him. Once the plane started rolling his jaw clenched. And the more speed the plane picked up, the more Killian’s grip tightened on the armrests.

Emma smirked.

“Afraid of flying, Jones?”

Killian glared at her, but soon set his eyes on the seat in front of him again. “No, Swan, I’m not afraid. I just happen to prefer vessels that travel on land… or water.”

“You know, to me that sounds like you’re afraid of flying.”

“And to me, it sounds like you’re enjoying this far too much,” Killian bit back.

Emma only smiled. “I guess I am.”

She let him be though, and once the plane stopped its steep ascent, the tension in Killian’s shoulders disappeared. He relaxed in his seat, and looked out of the window to a dark sky. They were meant to land in Barcelona around eight PM, and from there, Emma looked forward to going straight to their hotel. Looking for Liam could wait until tomorrow.

“So, Swan, what does your boss think of you travelling around Europe with nothing but drawings as your map?” Killian asked conversationally, all earlier traces of discomfort gone.

Emma wondered why he’d ask that question, but didn’t think much of it. “She’s not exactly happy about it. Then again, I don’t think I’ve ever seen Regina happy.”

“Regina?” Killian asked. “I thought you were working for a Mr. Gold.”

“Oh no, he’s just the client - the guy who wants to buy The Brothers Jones. Regina’s my boss - the owner of Mills’ Associates,” Emma explained.

“Ah,” Killian said, as if she’d told him the answer to some difficult riddle. “What does this Mr. Gold have of interest in buying a small nearly bankrupt business anyways?”

Emma shrugged. “Expansion?” She eyed Killian, trying to read his expression. “Why do you ask?”

She thought back to her earlier theory. That Killian was only interested in finding Liam now to prevent Liam from selling the business; so that Killian could get a part in it. But why would he want a share in - as he said himself- a nearly bankrupt business?

Emma didn’t want to entertain the thought that with or without Killian’s prompting, Liam could refuse to sell. And like that, all Emma’s searching would be for naught. The sale wouldn’t go through.

“I was just wondering,” Killian answered. “The Brothers Jones doesn’t exactly strike me as a gold mine for multimillionaires.”

Emma sensed that there was something more behind Killian’s words. He didn’t say anything though, and Emma didn’t pry.

He wanted to believe his gut feeling. The gut feeling that told him Swan really was someone he could trust. That she wasn’t in league with that monster.

The plane shuddered through mild turbulence. Killian clenched his jaw again. He wasn’t afraid of flying, that much was true, no matter how much Swan smirked at him. Yes, he rather preferred sailing on the Jolly Roger, but he had flown plenty of times. He knew that statistically there was nothing to fear - that didn’t stop him from finding aeroplanes highly uncomfortable.

Beside him, Swan yawned once every second minute, and stifled a yawn every other minute. He thought of offering his shoulder again. Then again, he liked it better when she wasn’t glaring or yelling at him. A small part of him hoped she might end up resting on his shoulder on her own sleepy accord. A very small part of him.

But it wasn’t to be.

They landed in Barcelona and found their hotel without much trouble, both of them weary and ready for a small bite to eat and a bed straight afterwards. But despite his exhaustion, Killian lay awake long into the night. Either his head would flash with images of Liam or Gold or a blonde-haired lass who confused him entirely too much.

The mere sight of her walking towards his table at breakfast brought a smile to lips.

“Sleep well, Swan?”

“I slept,” was her grumbled response. She sat with a plate of toast and a cup of hot chocolate with whipped cream - and cinnamon. Killian filed away that detail for later. He himself had a full plate of almost everything the hotel had to offer - after all, he and Liam had always been taught that breakfast was the most important meal of the day.

An hour later, Killian and Swan were well on their way to the Catalan national museum of art. Clouds hid the sun, and a small breeze took away Swan’s hope of warmer weather - why she didn’t wear a warmer jacket, Killian didn’t understand. He couldn’t complain though - he quite liked the red leather jacket.

As the four white columns came into view, so did the museum at the top of several stairs. Fountains and waterfalls adorned the space by the columns and the path to the museum. Killian and Swan stopped for a moment, just to take everything in.

It was stunning. Absolutely stunning.

Killian had wanted to come to the MNAC ever since he found out where Liam’s drawing came from. But visiting the Catalan art museum - though interesting - didn’t seem useful in finding Liam. Now that Killian knew the columns played a central purpose, he was more optimistic.

“What exactly are we looking for?” Swan asked after they’d climbed a few stairs to study the columns more closely. “A hidden message?”

Killian ran his hand over the surface of the fourth column’s plinth - the column that wasn’t depicted in the drawing Swan had found. The cement was cracked in places after years of wind, rain, sun and tourists, but Killian found nothing that indicated a cache for the spyglass.

“I’m not sure,” he answered Swan, only half-lying.

She looked at him, disbelieving, as he went on to inspect the next column.

“So you’re just looking for anything? And if you don’t find it, we’ve come all this way to look at four columns for nothing?”

Killian stopped to meet her critical stare. “What were you expecting, Swan? To find Liam prancing about, or perhaps tied to one of these bloody columns?”

“No,” Swan answered, trying not to let him rile her up. “I think there’s something you’re not telling me. You’re not looking for just anything, I can tell that. You’re looking for something specific.”

“And what, pray tell, would that be?”

“I don’t know. Another sextant? Or some other ‘magical’ object?”

Killian tensed. He couldn’t know if she was merely a good guesser or if he was too obvious or if - as he feared - Swan knew more than she let on.

But there it was again. That gut feeling. Swan was a good person - a bit prickly - but she wasn’t a liar.

Unlike him.

Killian sighed and stepped forward, closing some of the space between them. “Fine. You’ve bested me, Swan. I am indeed looking for another object, though I’m sorry to say it doesn’t seem to be here.”

“What other object?”

“A spyglass.”

Swan all but rolled her eyes. “I should’ve guessed. A compass, a sextant and a spyglass - how fitting.”

“Aye. Of course, there’s a pegasus sail too.”

She looked at him as if he’d started speaking Russian. “A pegasus sail? You’re kidding me.”

“I wish I was.” At least then it wouldn’t really be lying, Killian thought.

From the looks of it, Swan didn’t believe him. He didn’t need her to believe it anyways - he only needed her to think he might be speaking the truth. If his gut feeling was wrong, a wild goose chase could come in handy later.

“What even is a pegasus sail?”

Killian shrugged. “Wish I knew, love. It would make it a bit easier to find it, wouldn’t it? As it is, I’m fairly sure the object here in Barcelona is the spyglass and not the sail.”

Swan still wasn’t buying it - at least not the part about the pegasus sail.

“And you thought it might be in the column? That you could just pull it out from somewhere in front of all these people?” Swan gestured to the tourists around them. There weren’t many, it being late autumn and all, but she had a point. People would surely notice if Killian opened a cache in one of the columns and pulled out a spyglass. And someone would have noticed if Liam had put the spyglass in the column, several years ago.

“Maybe the columns aren’t the final destination,” Killian mused.

Swan finished his train of thought. “It’s the museum.”

Emma knew Killian was lying. As they made their way up the stairs to the museum’s entrance, she debated what to do. Call him out on it, or wait and see why he wanted her to believe there was a pegasus sail?

Killian climbed the stairs in quick strides. Emma kept up the pace, even pushing them to walk faster.

The spyglass, she believed. Killian hadn’t told her the entire truth about Neverland and the magical objects, and well, a normal fairy tale contained three magical objects, not just two. The spyglass fit.

“Why didn’t you say anything about the spyglass before?” Emma asked, managing not to sound too out of breath as they climbed the stairs. “Or that you thought you might find it here in Barcelona?”

“Why didn’t you tell me about Liam’s drawings?” Killian shot back, not missing a beat.

“Because you haven’t really proved yourself trustworthy these past couple of days.”

Killian turned his head towards her, as if he could read her like an open book. “You thought that if I found a clue in the drawings I’d keep my mouth shut and leave, didn’t you?”

Emma didn’t answer him.

“Well, love, have I left?”

Emma still didn’t answer. They both knew the answer anyways.

Reaching the top of the stairs after three more steps, Killian stopped to look at her. “Forgive me if I don’t trust a person who clearly doesn’t trust me. But I’m keeping my word - we’ll find Liam together. Now let’s see if the git’s left us a spyglass inside this bloody museum.”

Killian strode on towards the entrance to the grand museum. Emma followed right behind him, contemplating his words.

She understood him. She hated to admit it, but she understood - had she been in his shoes, she would never even have told herself anything about Neverland. First of all, because it was crazy. Second of all, Killian was right; she didn’t trust him so why should he trust her?

But snapping at me doesn’t exactly make me want to trust you more, buddy, Emma thought, glaring at his back.

The interior of the museum stole Emma’s breath away - and almost her anger with it. The architecture was just as majestic on the inside as it was outside, with intricate columns, a pristine floor and a beautiful ceiling high above.

When she took in the numerous groups of people and a few guards lingering here and there, the real worry dawned on Emma. She angled her steps closer to Killian’s as they walked away from the desks, entrée tickets in hand.

“You don’t really think Liam hid the spyglass in here, do you?”

He smirked at her with a quirked eyebrow. “Why Swan, afraid to get your hands dirty?”

“Who do I look like - Nicholas Cage?”

Emma might as well have sprouted horns the way he was looking at her. “Why the bloody hell would you look like Nicholas Cage?”

“You know, National Treasure, with the treasure hunting and stuff, where he steals the Deceleration of Independence and...” Emma’s rambling explanation did nothing to lessen the confusion in Killian’s eyes.

“Sounds like a thrilling tale.”

“Yeah, but I don’t want to live it. I’m a lawyer, not some...”

“Pirate?” Killian finished for her. Not the word she was going for, but it did the trick. “Relax Swan, we’re not about to steal The Deceleration of Independence or anything of that scale. We’re just taking a look around.” He turned left, down a hall exhibiting medieval Romanesque art, a cheeky grin lighting up his face.

Emma followed with a huff.

She refused to ask Killian what he was looking for and if he was sure he’d find it in an old carved rock. She didn’t bother asking if he intended to look at every piece of art in the entire museum. She stayed quiet, going through the exhibitions at a pace equal to his. Her enthusiasm was much more feigned though.

Emma had first discovered it in the bus towards Valadilene, and several times after. Her silence was like a challenge to him. He liked a clever battle of words, a few innuendoes and a cheeky comment. Sooner or later, he’d be doing his best at goading her into talking to him. But she wouldn’t give in.

It was a childish thing to do, she knew that. The satisfaction, however, was too great for her to care. And maybe he’d reveal something that he shouldn’t have, out of simple frustration.

“Have you ever had a great interest in art, Swan?” Killian asked as they stood next to each other, studying a biblical painting in the Renaissance collection.

Emma shrugged. “Not really.” Then she turned and left to study the other wall of paintings.

Killian followed soon after.

“Liam was always fond of drawing,” he started. “As a boy, I’d copy everything he did - imagine my frustration when I was never able to draw or paint something quite as stunning as he.”

Emma was brought back to her own childhood, crayons in hand. Watching the other kids proudly write ‘to mom’ or ‘to dad’ with awkward letters and misspellings. Emma had no one to give her drawings to. No one who would think to keep them. Until Ingrid, of course.

“It’s fitting really,” Killian continued, “that he would plant a treasure map in his drawings now - one more chance to annoy the bloody hell out of me.”

Emma had always wondered what it would be like to have an older brother or sister. Someone she could look up to. Someone who would only tease her because that’s what siblings do. And in the end, they’ll always love each other. Because that’s what a family is.

Emma glanced at Killian, trying to gauge his feelings. He knew what it felt like to have a sibling. A whole family.

But he also knew what it felt like to lose them.

She walked away. Over to the next painting, unable to deal with whatever it was she felt. Sympathy? Jealousy? Compassion?

She almost bumped into a woman with red wavy hair and startling green eyes. But then the woman was gone and Emma was left looking at a painting of an all too familiar motive - another freaking ship.

She turned away immediately. Only to meet Killian’s eyes. She saw the confusion as it melted into realization, subtle as it was. He opened his mouth to say something, though Emma wished he wouldn’t. But the words died on his tongue. His eyes were caught by something else - the painting that Emma had turned away from.

“Does that look familiar to you, love?”

Emma turned around again to give it a second glance as Killian stepped towards her, standing beside her. “What, another ship?”

The ship was an old galleon, Emma knew not how old. From the Renaissance was her best bet. A typical Spanish ship. Like something from The Pirates of the Caribbean. In the painting, it sailed out into a cloudy night with a few stars peeking out high above, the cool light from the moon and the warm yellow lights from the ship’s windows reflecting in the waves.

“Do you not feel like you’ve seen it before?” Killian pushed. Emma darted a look at him, then followed his concentrated line of gaze back to the painting. She tilted her head a little.

“Well... maybe? I feel like I’ve seen a lot of ships in drawings lately.” She looked back at Killian, realizing what he was getting at. “You think Liam drew something like this?”

“Aye. I’m not entirely positive, but there’s something about it....” He turned his head towards her. “You didn’t happen to bring the album with you here?”

“What, to the museum? Does it look like I’m carrying a book on me?” Emma gestured to her person, no bag slung over her shoulder, and certainly no space for a book.

Killian shrugged. “One never knows with you lasses - you always seem to be pulling various items out of nowhere.”

“Sorry to disappoint, but the album’s back at the hotel,” Emma answered dryly.

Killian stayed quiet, his eyes following movements that Emma couldn’t see as he contemplated something. “What do you say we go back and check if our painting here indeed has been copied by Liam?”

“Sure, I mean, if you think it’s worth looking into. But what happened to the spyglass being here in the museum?”

“It might still be - but I’d rather not have to check every little crack in the wall or loose tile in the floor. And while Liam was skilled with a pencil or a brush, I was always best at a sleight of hand; something tells me he would’ve had a difficult time hiding away a spyglass with all these cameras and guards about,” Killian nodded at a security camera in the corner. “No, hiding a clue in a painting is a very ‘Liam’ thing to do, is it not?”

Emma looked back at the painting of the galleon. “So we’re looking for a copy of... Santa Maria del Mar,” she read, trying her best at a Spanish pronunciation. “Saint Mary... something...”

“Saint Mary of the Sea.”

Emma looked at Killian. That was a quick and confident translation.

“You speak Spanish?”

“Aye, a little bit.” Killian smiled and added, “you’d be surprised what different knowledge you can acquire when you try your hand at writing.”

Emma and Killian made it back to the hotel within half an hour. Emma made sure Killian didn’t ask her about the look he’d seen in her eyes when he spoke of Liam, or say whatever it was he was going to say before he noticed the painting. Instead, she asked him a few more questions about his knowledge of Spanish.

(“Why do you need to know Spanish for your stories?”

“I don’t.”

“Then why do you know Spanish? Or well, know a little bit.”

A shrug. “Procrastination, I reckon.”)

Killian asked Emma if she spoke any other languages.

(“I don’t think I remember anything from my high school French other than how to introduce myself.”

“Was this not your first time in France then?”

“No, it was. First time in Europe actually.”

“Ah. And how are you finding it here on the other side of the pond?”

“The reason I’m here could’ve been better... and the company.”

“You wound me, Swan.”)

Once they made it to the hotel, Emma let Killian into her room. Like in Valadilene, they shared a wall between their rooms. Fortunately, the walls were thicker here.

Upon entering, Emma felt something strange. She looked around her room trying to figure out what it was. Something just felt... off.

Her suitcase lay where she had left it on the side of the bed facing away from the door. The lid was closed but unzipped, the way she’d left it. Killian feigned interest in the view as she shuffled through her clothes to grab Liam’s album of drawings. It wasn’t like she had heaps of bras and lacy underwear packed. Why he felt the need to look away, she didn’t know.

She was beginning to realize, that her extended stay in Europe was either going to cost a trip to a laundromat or a clothing store.

The strange feeling, prickling at the back of her neck lingered. She grabbed the album and sat with it on the bed. Killian went to sit beside her.

With the album lying between them, Emma began to leaf through the pages. There were definitely drawings of ships. Lots of them.

Emma turned another page. Her hand fell away from the corner of the paper.

“That’s it,” she said, her voice not much more than a whisper.

Liam’s drawing wasn’t a perfect duplicate of the one in the museum. For one, he had used pencils, not oil paints. And Liam’s drawing had a few more stars lighting up the sky.

“I told you, Swan.”

Emma looked at him, effectively saying “Really?” without actually saying it.

“Does Saint Mary of the Sea mean anything to you then?” she asked.

Killian pondered it for a moment. “It does sound familiar.”

Emma pulled out her phone from her pocket, switching on her data. “Let’s see if what you haven’t learned through procrastination or whatever, can be learned through Google instead.”

A quick search gave them all the information they needed. Saint Mary of the Sea - or Santa Maria del Mar - was amongst other things, the name of a church. A church that also went by Cathedral of the Sea.

And it was located about two miles away from their hotel.

#csbb #my writings #cs ff #when the tide turns #chapter 7 #captain swan #cs fanfic #seriously Aina is amazing!!!!#and i'm so excited for the next chapter!!!

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