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littlemisslipbalm · 4 years ago

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Little Border Town

Summary: It begins with a man and a woman, as it always seems to. One lives in France and the other lives in Italy, technically, but they’re also neighbors. Various issues arise between these two and they can’t ever seem to see eye to eye on anything. Will they ever move past their petty fighting or is the little town they live in doomed to only gossip about what Harry and Y/N are fighting about today?

AKA: Harry and Y/N are neighbors that fight all the time, the whole town wants to know when they’ll just fuck.

Featuring italrry as well as mustachrry! and running italrry... I hope y’all like! this is just part one, so much more is in store so pls let me know what you think :) lots of love - first fic that’s not named from a quote said in the story I’m shook!! the growth, the range...she has it apparently! side note: i had to change the gif from italrry/mustachrry bc something is whack with the formatting and either the keep reading or the title keeps disappearing so i tried some stuff to resolve it *sobbing*

Word Count: 8.5k | Warnings: swearing, mentions of relatives death, bickering, otherwise tame for now?

Pt. 2

There’s a little town that straddles the border between Italy and France. It’s just a little ways from Nice on the French side and Ventimiglia on the Italian side. The population is rather small and the tourists who come are usually either returners or are very very lost. One street you’re in France and the next you’re in Italy. It can be confusing to newcomers, but the locals love it -- for the most part. These streets are easily delineating as French or Italian by the little country flags that hang above all the shops or in the windows.

It’s a coastal town with cobblestone everywhere and bright painted buildings. The water is a soft blue and the wind barely ever brings any waves greater than a foot high. There’s a shop for everything and it seems to be frozen in the past from the outside, thankfully if you step into the tiny bed and breakfast there is wifi. The sun almost always shines down on this sweet piece of paradise, the winter does however bring gusting winds and thunderstorms. Those storms rattle the little town and afterwards you’ll find the residents picking up the pieces that have fallen off the shops.

Now, this little border town, with its streets separated by French and Italian customs, well almost all of them, it seems imperative to mention. There, in the exact middle of the little town, is one street that is split down the middle, half in France and half in Italy. The locals from the French and the Italian sides love that street the most because it has this certain dynamic spark of change that brings them together, makes them unique. Except for two locals that seemingly hate this street. These two locals aren’t actually true locals either. They both moved there a couple years ago.

Harry, from the Italian side, owns the shoemaker and repair shop. He hailed from England and moved to the little town when his great uncle, Joe, had sent him a letter pleading for him to take over his shop so that he could retire. Harry, ever the traveler, hopped on the next flight out to Italy and then traversed by train and bus until he reached his Joe’s home. Like most of the shops, there was a living space above the shop area. Harry lived there with Joe until he passed away a few years back leaving Harry to tend the store alone. He didn’t mind too much, being left there alone. He had always loved Italy and to get to live in the countryside in a little cobblestone town and own a shop was a dream come true. After living there for two years, he had bought a sailboat that he would take out when the shop was closed. He also had bought himself a motorcycle that he would ride to the next greatest city if he was ever in dire need of more of a nightlife as a 26 year old. He loved it, his own slice of paradise… except for his thorn in his side.

Y/N, from the French side, owns the bookstore, which carries lots of vintage books and records. She had moved there after college. In school, she had studied French and taken a year abroad in Paris and had traveled down to Nice for a month. While in Nice she had made a few friends and one of them had come from the little border town. They had insisted they all go there for a weekend. When Y/N stepped foot onto the street she now lived on a few years before, she fell in love. Seeing the little Italian and French flags in the windows and potted plants with a view of the sea had been so endearing to her.

She was drawn to the bookshop and had chatted up the old French woman who ran it. The woman had reminded Y/N of someone but she couldn’t quite place her finger on it. It was strange for her because she often found these connections with older people, she felt like she had known this woman her whole life. Y/N went back into the store the next two days she was there to talk to the woman again, Marie, she had learned. Before she left the little town she left her number with Marie and kept in some contact with her. After about a year though, their communication fell off. Y/N was sad but understood that life can be busy for people and that she obviously wasn’t the most important woman in the little border town bookkeeper’s life. Or so she thought. In the middle of the summer after she graduated college, Y/N was backpacking through Iceland and got a call from who she assumed was Marie. She was ecstatic and answered the call immediately. Sadly, it wasn’t Marie, instead a friend who had been given her will to execute. In her will she had left Y/N the bookshop. Her reasoning was similar to why Y/N had liked Marie so much, she said that Y/N had reminded her of her sister who had died unexpectedly in her teenage years. Being so far from home at the time and completely consumed with love and loss, Y/N had agreed to take over the shop without any hesitation.

She got home and informed her parents of her choice and moved to the little border town as soon as she could. She lived in the little area above the shop that Marie had also gifted to her and she tended the shop downstairs. The living area hadn’t really been cleaned out and Y/N had found an old collection of vinyls in the corner of the bedroom. As much as she wanted to keep them to herself, she thought it would be a good addition to the shop and had made a section for records in memory of Marie. She loved France and the coast, she bought a little car and would drive to Nice every so often or to the more sandy beaches along the French coast. It was quiet and different from the life she had maybe expected, but taking over a bookshop because a kind stranger had gifted it to you as one of their dying wishes wasn’t something Y/N could ever turn down. Her soul was too sweet. At least it was for most people, not for her neighbor though.

Her neighbor was the shoemaker, Harry. Their shops lived against one another even though he was on the Italian side and she was on the French. They were located exactly at the split between France and Italy. With less than a foot between the buildings, they saw a lot of each other. On their first interaction, Y/N had seen too much of her neighbor, meaning she had seen all of him. Their shops were similar to track homes, meaning they were built completely the same only mirrored. This meant that the windows of their bedrooms matched up exactly, she wondered who had thought that was a good idea after her first night. When Y/N had first moved in it was August, she left her window open and without the shade down to let as much fresh cool air in as possible. With her jet lag, she had found herself wide awake at about three am. Pacing around her room in the pink silk tank dress she had decided to sleep in, her eyes froze on her window - or rather, who she saw through her window. The light from her room and the moon were strong enough to illuminate the tanned and tattooed skin of the naked man in the room next to her. He held a bowl in his large hands that he seemed to be spooning cereal into his mouth from.

His half-lidded eyes flickered to the light coming from the place next door. The bookshop had been closed all summer and no one had been living in the upper area for a little longer than that so he had gotten into the habit of leaving his window open. He was half drunk after stumbling his way home from the tiny bar down the street. He had decided a naked cereal run would be a good idea to tide over his cravings. But upon seeing the girl wearing lingerie a mere two feet away from him, separated by the screens on their open windows, he realized that wasn’t actually true. His eyes widened only slightly as he saw her, his drunkenness allowing him to keep his blushing to a minimum. His drunken confidence kept him from covering himself as he lifted a single brow and made a salute with his spoon hand before going back to his bed.

She stayed at the window for a moment after the naked man disappeared and then quickly ran back to her bed. She shut off her light and tried not to think about everything she had seen. She tried to not think about his toned arms that flexed as he moved around his food, or the tattoos that lined every part of his body (the tiger and ferns seared into her mind specifically), or his tousled chestnut hair, or his searing green eyes, or the full mustache that held a little milk from his cereal. She tried, she really did. But how was she supposed to face her neighbor ever again after that. Maybe he wasn’t her neighbor, she reasoned, maybe he was an acquaintance her neighbor had just spent the night with. That wouldn’t be better! Her hands grabbed her other pillow and shoved it over her face trying to force herself to go to bed.

The next day, she had been working out front of the bookshop, beginning to repaint the windowsills of the shop with some navy paint she had found in the back to give it an updated look. It was early and she hadn’t expected to see anyone at all. Her jet lag still ailed her and caused her to be up bright and early. This was her second run in with the shoemaker, this time though, both to her dismay and joy, he was fully clothed. He wasn’t watching where he was going and almost toppled the both of them over as he left his store front, locked the door behind him, and then set off down the street. His large body, covered in short black running shorts and a mesh grey tank top, bumped into her almost immediately. He was still fiddling with his music on his phone as he began his run. She jumped back and dropped the paintbrush from her hand. She yelped as his body collided with hers and he stopped in his tracks. His eyes scanned her and took in the light wash cuffed jeans and moss ribbed tank top she was wearing. They widened when he recognized her face, the expression of shock similar to that of last night when she had seen him in his bedroom. He smirked and took out one of his earbuds. She grabbed her paintbrush from the ground as he extended his hand to her.

“I’m Harry,” his hand is greeted with hers. He speaks to her in English and she decides it’s probably best to follow along with whatever someone else began with. She worried that she’d run into a lot of Italians who didn’t know French or English and she’d have some trouble. His eyes flicker to the bits of blue already littered on her hands and in her hair.

“Y/N.” She nods, avoiding eye contact with the man she had already seen too much of. At least he’s not your neighbor’s lover, he’s just your neighbor. She also notices how he doesn’t apologize for running into her.

“You were spying on me last night,” his hand returns to his side and his smile quirks up again as he watches her face flush. His nicely groomed mustache twitches, trying to contain his laughter.

“I was not!” She finally looks up at the taller man and takes in his tanned face that is even more attractive in the morning light and up so close. The hat he wears is funny, a blue trucker’s hat that read “If you ain’t a fisherman, you ain’t shit!”, and she would laugh if she couldn’t already tell he was going to be extremely annoying.

His smirk continues and he barks out a laugh. He removes his sunglasses to really look at her now. “It’s alright, I work hard for this,” he gestures to his body, “glad someone appreciates it. Just means I’ll need to be installing a shade now, I guess.”

“You don’t have a shade and you walk around your room naked?” She ignores his first bit of conversation. She can’t think about his body or how it had looked last night. She sets down her paintbrush and folds her arms across her chest, trying to figure the man in front of her out.

“No… but it’s not all my fault. You had your shade open too! Who’s willingly up at that time of night anyway? I was just fixing myself a snack after the pub.” He raises his brows triumphantly at her, feeling confident that he has gotten the upperhand in the conversation.

She narrows her eyes at him as she finally registers that his accent isn’t Italian or French. He’s British and she wonders what he’s done to get himself in this little border town. He also seems to own the shop beside her since he locked the door behind him. He was peculiar, but she couldn’t dwell on what she thought about him since he had just accused her of being a peeping tom.

“Someone is up at that hour because she just moved and has terrible jet lag and can’t sleep. The place has been completely closed up for months and I needed to get as much cool air in as possible before the hot day. That’s why I was up and that’s why my shade wasn’t down.” She stands up straighter and rolls her eyes at him, muttering something in French to herself about annoying men. She smiles to herself when Harry doesn’t seem to understand. He obviously can tell she said something, but he doesn’t know exactly what. He could understand a good bit of French and he could speak some, but if someone spoke quickly and quietly, like she had just done, he wouldn’t be able to make it out. He figured it was something rude, though, with the way she sounds and begins to turn from him.

“Are you here to stay?”

“Yes.”

“Well, welcome to the best place in the world. It was so nice, two countries couldn’t decide who got to keep it and decided to split it.”

His arm sweeps out around him, gesturing to the street around him. She smiles up at him before following his arms movement. His arm had more tattoos than she had realized from her eyeful last night. She noticed the intricacies of all the black ink and again she had a million questions that she had to keep to herself. He was arrogant, conceited, impatient and a little bit odd and she knew all of this after barely one conversation. At least they could agree on one thing, they loved this town.

He looked back at her after scanning the street and saw her smiling in wonderment at everything around her. This brought a fleeting genuine smile to his face, knowing she was happy to be there. He had known Marie and was sad to see her go less than a year after his great uncle. He had always thought that Marie and Joe were both secretly pining over each other. Constantly stopping into each other’s shops and waving from their windows at each other, but Joe had always shaken his head at Harry when he mentioned it.

His smile faded when her eyes came back to his fac face face. Her smile disappeared as well. “Right, so, see you around…?” He said, already forgetting her name. She scoffs when she realizes what happened and then repeats her name. He nods curtly before replacing his sunglasses and single airpod and starts running again. She calls after him, “Thanks for the apology!” and then mutters to herself, “le con” knowing she shouldn’t shout that down the street where other people speak French. He doesn’t hear any part of it, his music up high enough to drown out the sounds of the world.

Y/N settled into the bookshop fairly easily, but she never failed to mention how unhelpful Harry had been:

“Yes, well, it’s been going pretty good...except for this one man. Well, I’d hardly call him a man - a boy. My neighbor, actually, he owns the shoe shop...no, nevermind that, he practically made it his mission to make my move the hardest thing in the world...Harry -- yes, that’s his name, Mama… well I don’t know, It’s just Harry. - it doesn’t matter! He’s been in my way at every turn… yes, both physically and metaphorically...I’m not kidding! And I’m not being dramatic… Well, It was nice talking to you. Love you, talk soon.”

That was her first telephone conversation with her mother since arriving in the little town. Maybe ten days after she arrived. Naturally, she had it in the downstairs area of her home, the bookstore. And naturally, Harry had wandered in, to discuss one of their shared planters, and overheard her entire side of the conversation and gathered the rest from his own imagination. When she had laid eyes on him after setting down her phone, she rolled her eyes at the smirking Chesire cat look on his face.

“You would be the kind of man to eavesdrop, hm?” She restacked a group of books that were already in order.

“Thought I was a boy?” his smirk remained on his face. He strided closer to the counter she stood behind.

“Like I said...What can I help you with?” Her voice drips with venom as she finally turns her eyes to look at Harry. His smirk still remains on his face now that she is making eye contact with him. He’s clad in a t-shirt that has some baseball team on it with burgundy corduroy flared jeans. She notices the strain of the shirt over his chest and biceps and avoids the scoff of how vain he must be to keep himself in that good of shape for tending a shoe store in the South of France, or rather Northern Italy…

“Right, Thought I’d pop in and tell you that one of our planters is shared. So you’ll have to talk to me before replanting anything. I noticed you coming in with tulips the other day.”

“The ones on the front of the street?” He nods as her head turns to glance out the front window. “Why the hell do we share a planter?”

“Because, my late great Uncle Joe and Marie fancied each other.” Her eyes went wide at his words, trying to think of Marie having a crush on someone. “They were never together, never admitted the fancying, but they always did the planters together. They each had one of their own and then bought the third together, said it made sense to make the shops look nice...I know it was just so they had more to tend to - together.”

She hums, taking in everything that he said and how his eyes shine slightly just at the mention of his uncle. His voice had perked at the story he had just spun for her and she smiles thinking about the idea of love and loving someone so much that you’re content with simply planting flowers together. It seemed really old-fashioned to her, but it also brought even more charm to the town she now called home. Romance was still alive here, or so she hoped.

“Okay, I’ll make sure to let you know when I’ve decided what flowers I want to put in there.” She turns around, assuming the end of the conversation and getting back to work. She doesn’t really find a reason to entertain Harry anymore than necessary. Like she told her mother, he was constantly in her way or being naked in his room, something she had chosen to leave out of her conversation with her mom.

“You’ve misunderstood me. Maybe my English is getting rusty, I rarely speak it since everyone else knows Italian.” She flips around at his rude comment, eyes alight with fire once again. “If you want to replant anything, which I don’t understand why you would, the flowers I put are wonderful, we’ll have to discuss it. It’s not you just telling me you’ll be doing it. We own it equally and I won’t let you bulldoze my hard work.”

“On a planter?!”

She sticks on a sickly sweet smile as she tries to refrain from laughing. “I guess the countryside really can make some people enjoy the simpler things in life…” With that she walks to the back of the shop, leaving the stunned Harry to see himself out of it. When the little bell rings, her stifled laughter can be heard among the books.

It doesn’t matter what it is, Harry and Y/N are able to make a fuss about anything and the whole street, if not the whole town, had quickly figured that out. No one had a problem with Y/N, they welcomed her with open arms. Marie had told the entire French side and a good amount of the Italian side how wonderful and tenacious she was. How Y/N reminded Marie of her sister and upon meeting her, many agreed. But the first time Harry and Y/N had a public row, at the bakery in the center of town, on the French side, everyone was quick to realize that there was bound to be trouble between the two. It was a stark contrast to the loving comments and endearing looks the previous owners had always engaged in when they were still alive. This fight was maybe a few days after the planter business and Y/N had tried in the following days to get him to change the planters to no avail so she was in an especially pissed off mood towards Harry.

“Could you be taking any longer?” Y/N rolled her eyes as she stood behind her tall neighbor, her foot impatiently tapping a beat against the stone floor.

Harry stood hunched in front of the display case, scanning for exactly what he wanted and desperately trying to remember what he had come here for. He was a bit more dressed up that day, his mother had been coming to visit him for the first time in a while and he wanted to look nice and have a special treat for her when she arrived. His trousers were a deep navy that matched the navy of the stripes on his sweater vest, the blue pinstripes of the button down underneath was a slightly lighter shade, but blue nonetheless. He had rolled up his sleeves past his elbows, showing off his various tattoos and sinewy arms. As his eyes scanned over the case again, he ran through his mental list and bit at his lip, knowing he was forgetting something. He barely even heard her drawl out her insult, the tapping of her foot eventually getting his attention due to its faltering.

She straightened upright from her hip jutted position when he didn’t even bite at her unkind words. Her foot stopping its melody. As she was about to give another go, Harry turned around and she gave him her full look of displeasure.

“Country life requires a bit of patience. I doubt you’ve ever had to wait your turn in your life, but you’ll have to get used to it here.”

Her eyes roll instinctively. She noticed that they seemed to do it just at the mention of his name or the sound of his voice. She had always thought herself a lover of the British accent, citing Downton Abbey and various famous musicians - Freddie Mercury, George Harrison, Elton John, etc. - as members of that little island who were formative to her identity, loving them for their talents as well as their accent. Yet with Harry’s deep meandering British voice, she found herself wishing to be anywhere but in its presence. She found that he took so long to ever get out an actual full thought and when he did it was barely coherent. He also never failed to let his sarcasm or smugness drip into his tone, causing her to audibly be aware of the smirk on his face even if she couldn’t see it. The image flashing across her mind no matter what.

“You’ll have to let me know when you’ll be here again…” His eyebrows quirk at her odd response and it’s her turn to smirk up at him. She’s already satisfied with her quip even though she’s only gotten half of it out. His mouth opens to question her, but she finishes her thought. “That is, so I can plan around you. If I have to alot a whole day to the boulangerie just waiting for you… I’ll never get settled.”

Harry scoffs and a fleeting expression of actual offense flashes across his features before turning around to finish his order. The others in line and the worker are all equally wide eyed and she hears some hushed whispering behind her, but it’s in Italian so she can’t make it out. The worker eyes Y/N as she rings up the rest of Harry’s chosen items. The worker smiles softly at Harry, feeling for the man she had known long enough to know that he wasn’t as rude as he was being with Y/N. She was also taken aback at Y/N’s response, but hadn’t seen her be rude otherwise so she had to assume it simply had something to do with the man.

When Harry is all set, he turns to leave and pass Y/N again. His eyes narrow and his words once again are turned nasty. “I wouldn’t mind if you never got settled,” he said before muttering something in Italian under his breath and leaving the store. She assumed it to be nasty as she eyed the couple behind her giggling, before walking to talk with the worker.

She shook her head trying to rid herself of her cold exterior that she kept having to conjure up for Harry. Now smiling, she asks for her items in French, happy to be speaking the language that brought her so much joy rather than English which seemed to be reserved only for Harry now. She hadn’t gone to the Italian side very much yet and the people she had met over there so far had spoken French to her once she had introduced herself.

As the worker finished with Y/N’s order, she asked in a hushed tone, in French, “How do you know Mr. Styles?”

“Harry?” Y/N guessed, not actually knowing Harry’s last name until now. The girl behind the counter smiles quickly before nodding. “Mon voison” she sighs and contains the accompanying eye roll when she sees the girl blush at the idea of being neighbors with Harry. “He’s a brat,” she continues and the girl laughs lightly before saying, “I think he’s rather sweet… not bad to look at either.” She looks out the window of the shop wistfully, like Harry’s still there and Y/N whips her head around, afraid he knew that she was talking about him. Thankfully, he was gone and Y/N laughs to herself when she feels the anxiety that had gripped her for a moment dissipates. Shaking her head at the girl, she grabs her items and change from her before making a break for the door.

It was soon after that incident that Harry and Y/N’s squabbles became notorious throughout the little town. Drama wasn’t common there and any sort of excitement was the talk of the town. It made sense that this was snapped up by the gossipers from the French and Italian sides alike.

Anne, Harry’s mother, was stopped the next day, when she was out for coffee and Harry was still at the shop, and was asked why her son was so angry at the new bookshop owner. She thought it made sense for her to drop into the bookshop next to her son’s shop after hearing that. Walking into the shop, she was greeted with the smell of lavender and the sweet melody of a love song. She immediately smiled at the charm of the bookstore, feeling like there was a bit more life in it then there had been the last time she had come in. Harry had told her that Marie had passed, but not that someone new had taken over and she was eager to meet them, especially now that she had been told about the town gossip.

A messy haired, but bright eyed Y/N came trotting out of the bookshelves at the sound of the door opening. A smile beamed on her face when she saw the mature brunette woman standing just inside the doorway. “Bonjour! Bienvenue!” She greets as she smooths some of her unkempt hair. Y/N had been digging around the back shelves of the store searching for a specific book one of her other customers had asked about yesterday. And much to her dismay, she wasn’t being very successful. When the woman only says “Bonjour” and makes no inclination that she plans to speak more French, Y/N believes it’s safe to assume she’s a tourist and switches to English. “Can I help you?”

Anne laughs happily to hear English and walks over to the counter that Y/N had walked behind. “Yes, Hi! My son lives here and I’ve just come to visit him. He didn’t tell me someone had taken over Marie’s shop.” Y/N perks at the name of Marie and she smiles sincerely at the woman now. Not quite a tourist, yet not quite a local, she noted for herself.

“Yeah, I’m Y/N. I was a friend of Marie’s, so to say, and she left me the place.” Pausing, Y/N turns over the vinyl that had just finished side A, and then returns to her place at the counter. “I’m still really new, but it’s a small town. I don’t know of many other people who weren’t born here who live here, though, who’s your son?” She rests her elbows on the counter and leans on them while staring at the kind woman. She had noticed the British accent, but hadn’t connected the dots yet. It wasn’t uncommon for people to have a British accent when they spoke English so it didn’t necessarily mean she was from England. But maybe Y/N should have noticed the light eyes and brown hair, maybe that should have been an indicator as well. Or the way she had said ‘my son’ and nodded in the way of the shoe shop. But no matter what, it came as a shock when the woman with the coffee in hand said what she said next.

“My son is your neighbor! He runs the shoe repair shop. His great uncle, my ex-husband’s uncle, left it to him a couple years ago.” Y/N’s eyes widen so much so that she has to blink a few times to assure herself they haven’t popped out of her head.

“Harry...is your son?” She speaks slowly and Anne smiles at the girl. She nods and Y/N nods back, taking the news in. He has a mother...she guessed she should have expected that. It had been unlikely that her theory of him being sent straight from hell to make her life just like it was accurate.

“Here you are mum! What are you doin’ in here?” Harry rushes through the door when he sees his mother inside from the window. Y/N rolls her eyes on cue, but still notices the soft adoring look on his face while he gazes at his mother. She supposes she can concede that he isn’t the spawn of satan now. His look hardens when he turns to Y/N, who has straightened up to her full height upon his arrival.

“I was just meeting the new bookshop owner, Y/N!” She looks between Harry and Y/N. “What’s this about you being angry with her?” She asks more to Harry, but Y/N hears easily. Harry’s eyes flash at Y/N and her eyes widen once again, but shrugs to Harry, having no idea where his mother had gotten that idea.

“What did you say-”

“I didn’t say anything! I’d just realized she was your mother right before you walked in!”

“It’s true. Someone said something about it to me at the coffee shop. Of course, I didn’t even know the book shop even had a new owner, so I decided to come by.”

“It’s nothing, mum,” Harry insists.

“Harry and I...we just don’t exactly see eye to eye. But, I’m sure we’ll warm up to each other eventually,” she easily lies through her teeth, knowing she really couldn’t see herself ever being friends with this prick. “Feel free to look around the shop, it’s not exactly to my liking yet, but then again, I am just getting settled. Otherwise, you two should enjoy your time together. I’m sure it’s not often you can make the time to journey all the way out here.” She smiles sweetly at Anne, choosing to ignore Harry completely.

“Thank you, Y/N. Harry can be an acquired taste for some, but just below that exterior of his, he’s a giant softy.” Harry groans at his words, Y/N’s smile only grew.

“Au revoir! Good Day!” She calls when they leave the shop rather swiftly. It seemed to her that Harry was desperate to get his mother out of the shop as soon as possible, while Anne was happy to browse and look at what had been changed in the shop.

Their early unhappy encounters were now months ago. But encounters of a similar caliber happened at least once a week. It’s hard to avoid a neighbor who you seem to find anything they do to be an annoyance, even their existence. They saw each other around town and at their shops and in their bedrooms. Even though they didn’t particularly like each other, hated was actually the correct word, the drawing of the shades was a near impossible task with the heat that plagued the little town between August and Mid-October.

They had fought over who could leave their shade open and who couldn’t because Harry believed only one of them had to close it to maintain privacy but then he wouldn’t settle on an agreement on taking turns closing shades. Y/N argued that they could both leave them open if he would agree to stop walking around his room naked all the time, but he refused that as well, at first. He conceded after a week of having his shade drawn that he would wear boxers. Therefore, practically every night, Y/N and Harry would see each other before bed since they actually seemed to have the same sleep habits. Sometimes she would have to yell at him to close his window if he came home with a guest and he would yell at her to turn off her light if she was reading or watching television in bed too late.

Thankfully, it was approaching the end of October and the weather would begin to change. There wouldn’t be a reason to have the window or shade open and they at least wouldn’t have to see each other right before bed.

This morning, Y/N is up early, she found it amazing to wake up early here, something she had never done before this little border town. It was teaching her new things about herself and changing her, but she liked it. In deep forest green flared pants and a long sleeved rainbow striped shirt, Y/N is watering the planters in front of her shop as well as the little ones attached below the windows. It was always a little cool in the mornings, but she had checked her weather app and seen that it was actually going to be the first cold day of the season. The first cold day since she had arrived actually. As much as she liked the sun, she also loved fall and winter, so she was excited to experience them for the first time in the little border town.

She smiles to herself as she moves around gracefully. In her back pocket, her music plays softly, Paul Simon sings lovingly to her. She hums along and moves to deal with the planter at the edge of the sidewalk. But she’s foiled by a man she seems to think about far too much for how much she says she dislikes him. Harry jogs back a half step upon realizing he has run into her yet again. One would assume that one of them would either change their routine or know to step out of the way or really just be a little bit more aware of their surroundings with how many times this has happened since Y/N’s arrival. Of course, their stubborn personalities actually require them to be unrelenting in this area of their lives as well. Much like the shade debate, the who was in the way of who debate is still majorly undecided.

“Oi!” He looks down at his shirt and it has a substantial wet spot on it. She had spilled some of the watering can’s contents.

“Excuse you!” She says simultaneously, not realizing she’d gotten water on him.

“I’m not the one who just threw water on someone.”

“Neither am I. You ran into me, it’s not my fault you never look where you’re going.”

“You’re just always in my way. This has been my route for ages, I’m not going to change it just because you moved in next door.” His hands fly around in annoyance and anger.

“You’re unbelievable!”

“Well! I can’t stand you!

“Clearly!” “Cleary.” They’re both huffing out insults that don’t seem to really be going anywhere. Harry has straightened his posture for once and she actually finds his true height slightly intimidating. They both breath for a moment, finding no other words to fill the tranquil morning silence that they had just disturbed.

“Are we ever going to have a conversation where we’re not at each other’s throats?” She sighs, feeling upset that the nice Fall day was suddenly ruined for the rest of time just because of this.The bickering with Harry was tedious and she couldn’t keep going like this. Being in a completely new place and running a small business was hard enough as it is. Something snapped in her just then, hoping to squash a part of her life that is causing her stress and exhaustion.

Harry’s expression falters, his eyes losing that glint of angered passion for a moment, he wasn’t expecting that response. It wasn’t necessarily mean, it was more like she was resigned. Simply done with the conversation. He felt his anger and annoyance slip away rather quickly at her question. She sees his mustache twitch, which she realized happened when he was either amused or confused. She didn’t think what she said was funny so she presumed he wasn’t sure what to make of what she had just said. Her head tilts to the side and waits for his response. Her watering can falls to her side now, making herself a little more comfortable and leaving only a small amount of air between her and Harry.

“Tired out already? Thought you were more of a competitor than that.” He mirrors her by tilting his head as well.

“I didn’t realize we were in any sort of competition.” She stepped forward and straightened her posture a little, feeling challenged by the tone he had taken. She may have a kind and soft exterior for most, but she was nothing if not fierce in her core. She was an Aries afterall. She wondered what Harry might be, she wasn’t super into astrology, but she was sure that he wasn’t an Aries. Aries were fiery and passionate and were very unwilling to admit defeat, so he had just hit the exact right note to keep her from squashing their now long-standing quarrel.

“We’re not. I just thought I had met my match, guess I was wrong.”

He looks off in the distance to be nonchalant, like he wasn’t trying to bait her even if that’s exactly what he was going for. Sure, he found her annoying, for whatever reason. But he had realized when she had posed the question, that he hadn’t had this much excitement in a while. Nothing and no one really challenged him in the little border town, his work was easy enough, money wasn’t tight, friends were easily made, and partners for the night were easy to find. He didn’t dislike any of those facts, truly, he counted himself lucky and was overjoyed that he lived there. But the verbal sparring he engaged in with Y/N fulfilled a need he hadn’t realized was going unsatisfied. He would never admit it, but she was often a highlight of his day. Getting into a little quarrel with her brought a smile to his face when he recalled it later. The bird she had started to flip him before bed made him genuinely laugh. He liked it, so when she seemed to want it to end, he did what he knew would make her change her mind. Tease her.

“I see...bonne journée, cul.” She decided to bid him farewell, knowing he didn’t plan on apologizing any time soon. She turned her body from him and Harry understood enough French that she had ended the conversation with a “good day”. He also knew that she had called him an “ass” as well. His brows raised for a moment at the insult before giving a flicked salute in her direction and jogging off for his morning run.

For some reason, after a moment of knowing Harry had gone she glanced up in his direction and watched his retreating figure. And for some reason she found herself looking back down at the flowers and smiling to herself. Somewhere inside her she was glad Harry hadn’t given into her veiled request to stop fighting. It was a strange sensation because as tiring it was to bicker with him, she feared if they stopped then they would stop talking at all and her heart panged at the thought. She didn’t know why and she didn’t care to know why either.

The bell of the book shop chimes and Y/N pops up from behind the counter. She had been crouched out of sight trying to organize the books of notes on customers Marie had left that Y/N had only just found. She hadn’t realized the cabinet existed in the counter so when she accidentally slid it open she was a little taken aback. Still, she was quickly distracted by the new customer. Her cream collared shirt was unbuttoned to where her collarbone and decalotage were on display, some gold medallions hanging around her neck today. Her worn light wash blue jeans were barely visible behind the counter due to her height. In her hair was a classic red bandana, pulling back her hair out of her face save for the strands that worked themselves free on their own accord.

Her smile was wide, happy to see the first customer of the day as she pinched at her shirt to make sure it was in place. Her posture slumped immediately when she realized that her first customer wasn’t a likely customer at all, instead who else but Harry. A mischievous glint in his eyes as he strolled in and right up to the counter. He leaned his large body down to rest his head in his hands and look up at her. He crossed one ankle over his other, getting comfortable as he stared wickedly up at her.

She wet her lips and took a step back. It was her first look at him today, apparently missing him on his morning run. Maybe she should have thought something of that after their encounter yesterday, but she didn’t. Like most days, his trousers were high waisted, Gucci likely - how he afforded them, she had no clue - and his usual shirt had now been accompanied with a striped red, black, and yellow open cardigan. His hair looked wet like he had just taken a shower, most of it was pushed up but a few strands fell over his large forehead. His mustache looked freshly trimmed and the rest of his facial hair had yet to leave any shadow after his obvious shave.

“Harry.” She says definitively, regarding him with even contempt.

“Ice Queen.” He levels, eyes narrowing.

She scoffs immediately. “At least give me something original...or accurate maybe. I may not like you, but ice queen? Hardly.”

He genuinely chuckles at her quick response and nods, agreeing easily with her for once. “You’re right. It was weak, I’ll admit. Feel like you need a nickname though, thought something really rude might upset you.” He smirks cheekily. His agreement doesn’t make her feel like she’s won at all, unsurprisingly.

She rolls her eyes at his comment. “Care to let me know why you’re gracing me with your presence today, Mr. Styles?” Moving around the counter, she begins to walk to the back of the shop, assuming Harry would follow her if he needed to. He apparently did and walked after her after realizing she wasn’t coming back.

He gives a half-laugh, “Yeah, I came in for a new record. I saw you decided to restock them...thought I’d pop in. It’s easier to get them here than order online...Curtain-hater.” He adds the name as an afterthought.

She glances at him from the bookcase she’s standing at, her eyes shifting to meet his. A smile fades into her features as she can’t contain the giggle at his new attempt at a nickname. She then wrinkles her nose, “That isn’t good either, but proficient try, I guess.” She gives him points for actually relating the name to her in some way, but it still doesn’t incite any anger in her which she knows is what he is going for. She probably should question herself why she’s helping Harry to nickname her something rude, but alas, she doesn’t. He nods solemnly, knowing she’s right again. He needs to find a nickname for her and he doesn’t know why, but he’s glad she seems alright with him giving her one, so long as it is fitting.

Her body shifts from the bookcase over to the boxes she had gotten to hold the vinyls. She had a small collection since the place was small overall, but Marie’s old collection had sold successfully so she had restocked afterwards, this time choosing some of her personal favorites.

“I’m not sure of your taste...I know you bought Marie’s Ella Fitzgerald album last time.” She sifts through the records, trying to find something she thought he might want. Like she said, she didn’t know what he liked, but she prided herself on knowing music and as an owner helping a customer, she wanted to please Harry. She knew he liked Ella from his previous purchase and she knew he liked Marvin Gaye in the evenings when he had guests - how very cliche she would add. “I mostly got in 70’s/80’s rock...Elton, Queen -”

“Got any Paul Simon?” Harry cuts her off and she looks at him surprised. Her fingers stopped when she looked up at him, their tips placed on the peaks of the albums covers. “Thought I heard it here the other day?”

Her face perks up at the mention, she loved Paul Simon. “That was on my phone, but I do actually. Well, it’s Simon & Garkunkel. I can order something from just Paul Simon whenever I have to order again if you want?” Their gazes are holding each other’s, her fingers still rubbing over the pointed edges of the two albums she had between her hands. Harry’s watching her and leaning against the table the boxes sit on.

He nods after a moment. “That’d be great.”

“You’ll have to tell me which records of his you already have so I can order something new for you.” She grabs the Simon & Garfunkel album and flips it to Harry so he can look it over.

He regards the Parsley, Sage, Rosemary & Thyme cover reading over the fine print with all the tracks listed on the bottom right. “Thanks,” he mutters out after another moment of silence. It was rarely this quiet between these two, so it was different. “I’ll take it, Shrimp.”

“Oh my god!” She gasps before bursting into a fit of laughter. He had actually made her laugh and his eyes widen at the sound, almost confused that she hadn’t scoffed. Her laughter was far louder now then the half-hearted chuckle she had given earlier, which really was probably just another scoff. This laugh was loud and unbridled, but melodic and fun. In the back of Harry’s mind, he noted that he liked it. The first bullet point on a list that was likely to grow. “That works, just the perfect amount of rude. I love and hate it at the same time.” She finishes before walking back to the front. Harry saunters after her, pleased with himself.

“I’d like to say I wasn’t looking for your approval, but I guess I sorta was,” he ponders out loud as she takes the record back from him to type in the correct spelling into her relatively new computerized system. She twists her mouth to the side of her face to refrain from smiling anymore and then hums. Her eyes flit back up to Harry’s triumphant smile and for once she doesn’t want to slap it off of him.

“People-pleaser…” She prods him easily. His smile falters only slightly, not out of unhappiness, but of borderline jealousy.

“How do you come up with that so easily? It just rolls off the tongue,” He asks seriously, confused by the woman before him. This time she laughs as she hands him back the record and a copy of his receipt.

“I’m well read, that usually helps, but maybe it’s just my intrinsic wit that gives me an edge,” she raises her brows slightly, before beginning to walk off now that their exchange is done. She’s surprised she doesn’t want to rip her hair out after that encounter, but she figures she should simply count her blessings. “Au revoir, trouser-boy!”

He rolls his eyes as he turns on his heel and exits the shop, amused rather than annoyed with the bookkeeper.

enjoy! lmk what you thought :) part 2

#harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fan fic #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x you #harry styles fluff #harry styles smut #once the slow burn ends #harry styles angst #harry styles oneshot #harry styles one shot #harry styles imagine #enemies to lovers!harry #enemies to lovers #slow burn #the france italy one is a fever dream au #little border town #not proofread at all

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angstsfordays · 4 years ago

Text

Beautiful Pain (4)

Chapter Four- Now or Never

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Enhanced! Reader

Summary: Post-Blip, you started to feel lost when most of the Avengers team are gone. Coping with your loss, you still find hope in the connection with your remaining friends. However, it is not easy as everyone is trying to figure their lives after the Blip.

Having a long history with Bucky ever since you both saved each other from Hydra, you were still glad you had Bucky after all this time. However, as you try to give Bucky space to find himself after being pardoned for his past, you start to wonder if you should ever cross the line of friendship before it’s too late.

That thought might have to be put on hold though, when you, Sam and Bucky find yourselves having to deal with threats that continue to rise in a post-Blip world.

Chapter synopsis: Your supposed ally leads you to an unlawful nation where danger lurks at every corner. Bucky starts to see you in a different light.

Warnings: Sexual objectification. Very bad undercover work. Calling Sam daddy. Sexual innuendos.

Word count: 4.8k

Notes: I am very humbled that people have been enjoying the story and liking it so far! This means to me a lot as a novice writer! ☺️

I had a lot of fun writing this chapter, felt like I got more to expand for the Madripoor episode. I love to know what y’all think of it so far! 😘

The tag list is still open! Let me know if you want to join with a message or comment in the chapters!

Previous: Prologue | Chapter One | Chapter Two | Chapter Three

Next: Chapter Five

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As Zemo made arrangements on his end, you did not know what to expect. You, Sam and Bucky were brought to the tarmac of a small private airport, your attention was brought to the private plane that Zemo was leading you towards.

Sam made a comment on Zemo’s wealth and the latter explained that he was practically royalty before the Avengers destroyed his country. Touché.

You took the seat right across from Zemo and you couldn’t help but put your guard up around the man. He could sense the tension all over your face and offered champagne to which you declined. You wanted to make sure you were fully sober around this guy.

As you looked on at the exchange he had with his steward, he almost looked decent for a moment. You wouldn’t have thought of this guy to be a manipulative and scheming man that caused that chain of events many years ago.

“You don’t know what it’s like to be locked in a cell.” Zemo started off after having a sip of his champagne. He then paused in his actions as he looked over all of you and corrected him.

“Oh that’s right, you all do. My apologies.” Rolling your eyes, you crossed your arms as you leaned into the comfort of the plush aeroplane seat.

Sam tried to get Zemo to start talking but the baron brushed it off for a moment as he looked at a book in fascination. As Zemo brought up a familiar notebook, he asked who Nakajima was.

Your eyes perked up at the familiar name and you immediately turned to look at Bucky who instantly pounced on Zemo and grabbed him into a chokehold. Bucky warned him not to touch his notebook or he would actually kill Zemo, probably with his bare hands.

As Bucky settled down in his seat once more, you gave him a knowing look but he averted his eyes to avoid eye contact. The conversation then took a more light-hearted turn as Sam tried to describe how Steve noted down his suggestion of the Trouble Man soundtrack in the notebook that now was passed onto Bucky.

Sam asked if Bucky liked it too and the super-soldier replied that he liked 40’s music to which Sam look almost offended that Bucky didn’t share his taste in music. Bucky looked like he didn’t even want to bother but he clarified that he indeed liked it just to get Sam to back off.

Zemo decided to join in the conversation and put his two cents. Sam was surprised at how Zemo managed to eloquently describe the music style. Afterwhich, Sam went on to say how everyone loved Marvin Gaye while Bucky agreed that he did too.

Sam added that Steve adored the singer too. Hearing this, Zemo commented that Bucky must have looked up to Steve very much.

Yes, we all did. You wanted to add that in too.

Zemo, however, then took the liberty of giving his view on Steve. He talked about how dangerous it could be to idolize super soldiers like Steve and start to disregard their flaws, thus allowing him to not be held accountable for the repercussions that stem from his actions. Even if that meant the formation of movements, the fighting of wars, the loss of innocent lives.

Sam gave him a warning to better stop talking but Zemo continued on. When Zemo noticed how you started shaking your head in dissatisfaction, he gave a light chuckle before speaking directly to you.

“Miss Y/N. Contrary to my own personal views on enhanced individuals, I do find you fascinating, The files I read on you only make me more curious. Can I ask some questions?” You could feel the attention being put on you in the room and you grew slightly uncomfortable.

“What do you want?” Hoping to act nonchalant to mask your nervousness, you crossed your legs and leaned back into your seat.

“You have no family history. You grew up in an orphanage, am I right?” Nodding at the facts he laid out, Zemo carried on.

“You couldn’t have possibly been experimented on. You have gotten into any accidents?” You shook your head in response.

“Chemical exposure, radioactive bites, cosmic ray exposures….those are the possibilities that an ordinary person could obtain superhuman abilities according to the theories online.” Unimpressed, you continued to shake your head at him.

“Tell me. I’m curious.” You couldn’t entertain the likes of him but seeing how he was leaning in to wait for your answer, you gave an indifferent expression before speaking.

“It appeared out of nowhere. Someone committed arson in the local convenience shop where I was at the time. I was trapped with the elderly shopkeeper and I thought we were both going to die. A burning beam was falling onto us and I thought that was the end. I suddenly emitted a burst of energy that managed to put own the fire and incinerate the beam into ashes.” As you retold your story, memories of your fear from that time came back.

“The shopkeeper lost consciousness but I saw everything. I wasn’t sure if it was me but I ran away. I couldn’t’ return to the orphanage because I was afraid the police would find me. I lived on the streets for a week before my powers manifested again.” Your eyes fall to your fidgety hands, cracking your knuckles as it gave you some sort of relief.

“A kid was crossing the street without his mum knowing and a car was speeding on the road. I tried to reach out and pull him back in but the car was just inches away from us both. I caused a scene that couldn’t be ignored. S.H.I.E.L.D managed to find me and took me in.” Zemo’s eyes were tracking your every movement and expression in a way that Bucky didn’t like. As if you were something up for display and Bucky put his foot down.

He was getting protective of you and did not want Zemo to harbour any hidden intentions. Who knew what Zemo was thinking of?

Zemo spoke up before Bucky had the chance.

“Fascinating just fascinating. It’s like your powers had been dormant inside you all along. Are you even human?”

“Last time I checked, my blood is still red.” Your sarcastic response earned a laugh from Zemo and he stroked his chin as he continued to observe you quietly. Sensing he had more thoughts in his mind, you returned the questions back to him.

“You hate enhanced individuals so much, would you get rid of me if you had the chance?” Growing a smirk, Zemo wasn’t expecting you to ask him that and he was more than eager to give his reply.

“I am undecided, but you’re different. I can see you are more discreet than the others, just like Bucky over here.” Zemo made his final remark before he moved on to talking about the location that you were headed.

His words sunk in and you kept on thinking about how he hit the nail on the head.

Yes, you had to be more discreet. You could never proudly show off what you had, instead, you had to keep yourself hidden in order to protect yourself.

Recalling your S.H.I.E.L.D days, you remembered how you were told to keep your powers on a low profile by Director Fury himself.

Your lab results came back and it was discovered that you had a special gene in your DNA that could be identified. There weren’t any references or connections to existing research and findings so you were viewed almost as an abnormality.

It was then later discovered that your powers were connected to your life force and if you ever over-exerted yourself, you could possibly die. That almost happened back during the civil war between the Avengers. It was the first time you ever used your powers on a larger scale and you had even passed out at the end of the battle.

You remembered waking up in a hospital bed on the raft.

When you found refuge in Wakanda, you got to learn more about your powers with Shuri’s help. She believed as long as you trained your stamina and built up your strength, you could control your powers without ever worrying about being drained. That’s how you found yourself the privilege to receive special training with the Dora Milajae under King T’Challa’s request.

You definitely owed the Wakandans big time.

Seeing how you were uncharacteristically down, Bucky wanted to check in with you out of concern. However, he chose to restrain himself, thinking that you probably one to be left alone. He wished he could do more for you like you do for him.

-------------------------//---------------------------

Before you knew it, you landed in Madripoor. An island nation that was lawless and dangerous, yet home to the darkest of black markets and underground businesses. Zemo said that all of you could not go in as yourselves and had to basically go in undercover.

You couldn’t hold back your laughter when Sam changed and came out in a fancy printed suit. He was to act as a real life promiscuous and rich man who really could have been his doppelgänger when you saw a picture of the man.

However, you weren’t one to laugh when Zemo asked you to act as one of Conrad Mack aka Smiling Tiger’s fling for the night. When you first received your outfit, you threw it back in Zemo’s face.

You were not the most comfortable with sexy and revealing clothing personally so you couldn’t imagine yourself wearing it at all. Zemo tried to convince you that Smiling Tiger’s women were all of a certain type so you had to go through with it in order to fit in.

Letting out a groan, you snatched the little champagne dress with an open keyhole back. The front was designed to give a loose look that shyly reveals your cleavage. The dress held onto your shoulders with thin straps and it overall gave the impression of a silk slip dress.

When you put it on, you wiped your clammy hands on the silk material and grimaced at how it barely covered your ass. You were grateful that the shoes you received had thick block heels as you had forgotten how to even walk in high heels anymore.

Swiping on the red lipstick for the final touch, you took a deep breath to calm your nerves as you looked in the mirror. You got this.

Stepping out of the changing room, you were met with the full attention of all three men and you put a finger up to warn them of making any unneeded comments.

“Damn Y/N. I mean this in the nicest way possible but this is an entirely different look for you. In a good way, of course.” Sam tried to compliment you seeing that you weren’t fully into your outfit.

“Thanks, Sam.” You knew his intentions were always pure and good, so you didn’t mind it much. As he and Zemo went off to discuss something, you saw that Bucky was still looking at you intently. He must think you look weird, you thought.

In all the years that Bucky have known you, it was the first time he has seen you looking like this. You always had gone for casual and comfortable looks in your daily life. The only time he has seen something different was when you put on your tailored suits for formal events.

He had to do a double-take when he saw how the little dress number hugged your figure in the right places.

Bucky knew he shouldn’t continue looking but his eyes fleeting quick glances when you were looking elsewhere. He always felt that you were one of the most beautiful people he knew on the inside, the fact that you could look past what he did and accept him for he was. He never felt that he had to pretend to be fine when you’re around because you were there to accept him for better or worst.

Seeing you now stirred up a different feeling inside of him. Why did you suddenly seem so attractive this time? He did not want to be that guy who viewed women differently because of the way they dressed. In fact, he was never the kind to like someone because of the way they look but more of how they make him feel.

However, observing how bashful and shy you look in front of him, Bucky suddenly felt rather nervous himself. He saw you taking a step towards and he swore his breath hitched as his mind was registering this scene in slow-motion.

Your hands came up to put his dog tags inside his black shirt before going for the zipper of his jacket. Your eyes fleetingly met his for a moment before you started saying something.

Bucky wasn’t able to process it as he was entirely focused on how you were casually helping him as you normally did, but his mind can’t help but think of it as an intimate gesture.

You continued to buckle up the belts of Bucky’s harness and couldn’t help but to relish in the act of caring for him. This was probably the only time you could fulfil your feelings of wanting to be close to him without crossing the line.

“All done.” Once you have adjusted the straps on his shoulder to make sure they were comfortable, you glanced to see Bucky looking down at you in a daze.

“Hey Buck, you there?” Calling for his attention, Bucky snapped back to reality as he saw you staring at him with a curious doe-eyed look. Clearing his thought, Bucky scrambled to recall what you had said and just continued looking at you in question.

You went on to ask if the straps were comfortable to which he nodded curtly. You grinned in satisfaction for a short moment before it fell into a tight-lipped smile.

“Bucky, are you really ok to go into character? I know how hard you worked to get away from all of that.” Implying how he had to act like the Winter Soldier for this undercover mission, Bucky took a deep breath before answering you.

“I’ll be fine. It’s just for this mission.” You just silently nodded at his words before signalling that you two should get a move on.

-------------------------//---------------------------

All of you were heading to Low Town as Zemo named to find his informant, Selby. Zemo reminded everyone to stay in character regardless of the situation, if not the mission would be compromised and your lives could be at risk.

Zemo gave you a personal warning to avoid using your powers if possible. If your powers were revealed publicly, there was a high chance you were at a bigger risk than the rest because people would want to take you for their own.

It was not every day an enhanced individual with superpowers walks into Madripoor and you would definitely become a prize to be coveted.

You were first greeted by the hustle and bustle of the nightlife crowd. The neon signs lit up the incredibly dark streets followed by the loud booming music that could be heard from some of the places that you passed. Your eyes were focused on Zemo’s back as he led all of you to the location, refusing to make eye contact with anyone else.

Entering the crowded bar, you could hear Zemo speaking Russian to Bucky. You weren’t familiar with the language but you could make out one world, Soldat.

Sneaking your arms around Sam who was caught off, you gave me a pointed look that told him that the undercover work starts now. He gave you a brief nod before rolling out his shoulders and you pressed yourself closer to him, putting your acting face on.

All of you stood by the bar where the bartender greeted all of you.

“Hello, gentlemen. Wasn’t expecting you, Smiling Tiger.” The bartender nodded to Sam. His eyes moved over to meet yours before greeting you, Miss. You gave your best smile in return.

“His plans changed. We have business to do with Selby.” Zemo told the bartender. You could see the shift in his eyes and saw someone from out of the corner of your eye moving away. Shifting your stance, the bartender didn’t acknowledge Zemo’s words and glanced back to you again.

“New face?” His comment was directed towards Sam but seeing how Sam was hesitating, you realised that he hadn’t had much experience with undercover work at all. He was a military man not a spy or agent after all.

“Hopefully, the last.” You giggled shyly and looked up to Sam with an affectionate gaze before giving the bartender a wink.

The bartender nodded curtly before asking Sam (Smiling Tiger) if he wanted his usual. Sam nodded silently in an efforts to prevent himself from doing anything out of character.

You caught Bucky looking at you as he leaned sideways on the counter. Your silent exchange was a way for you two to check in with each other and a brief smile mirrored on both of your faces before you turn to see the bartender taking out a snake from a big jar.

Trying to control your expression at the disgust coming up your throat, you subtly swallowed heavily at the sight of how the bartender slit the snake open. Sam who had his back turned for a brief moment was shocked to see what was presented on the counter in front of him.

Zemo tried to continue to put on the act and acted like it was nothing out of the ordinary. Your global knowledge and several visits to Asia made you realised why this was the Smiling Tiger’s favourite. Snakes infused into wine was touted to be an aphrodisiac to help a man increase, ahem, stamina.

Bucky felt almost bad for Sam and looked away briefly. You could see Sam gulping down nervously when the bartender added the finishing touch to the drink and you gently rubbed his arm for emotional support.

“I love these.” Sam managed to say through gritted his teeth and clinked his glass with Zemo. Your own bile almost resurfaced and you quickly turned your head to hide your nervous gulp.

Putting up a thumbs up awkwardly, you wanted to facepalm when the bartender looked back at Sam with a dubious expression.

You knew you needed to do something so everyone’s covers won’t be blown. Putting on a sly smirk, you let a hand move up Sam’s chest slowly and sensually before resting it where his heart was.

“Looks like you and I will be in for a long night.” Adding a slight giggle, you pretended to act shy after you spoke your words. Sam was trying his hardest to not look bewildered at your act while Bucky was trying to suppress a sudden wave of annoyance that washed over him.

He knew that this was an act but he still didn’t like it for some reason. He had to admit that he was not expecting you to get into character so well, seeing that this image you were presenting was the furthest cry from who you actually were.

The bartender looked slightly less suspicious of all of you before he went away. You could feel Sam heaving a sigh of relief beside you and you did the same alongside him.

Another man came up to Zemo, telling him of how he was unwelcomed in the area. Zemo putting up a cool façade, explained he had no business with someone named the power broker. Zemo restated his business here once more before the guy left.

Zemo explained that the power broker runs Madripoor and it was best you all stayed under his radar. Moments passed before another guy came up behind Zemo and Zemo turned to Bucky talking in Russian once more.

The instant the man placed his hands on Zemo, Bucky went into winter soldier mode. Everyone’s attention was directed to the scene happening. The whirling sound of Bucky’s vibranium was heard clearly as he was nearly crushing the man’s hands and went ahead to knock him over.

More and more people started to gather fool’s courage to take on Bucky. You saw how he easily took down everyone with barely any sweat.

“Didn’t take much for him to fall back into form,” Zemo commented to you and Sam, and in all honesty, you wanted to choke him like what Bucky was doing to another guy on the bar’s counter.

Hearing the continuous clicking of guns from everyone in the bar, your senses were now alert at the possibility of having to break character and use your powers.

“Stay in character or the whole bar turns on us.” Zemo whispered into your ear and grabbed onto your hand before you could even think of doing anything.

Zemo got Bucky to back down and the bartender told you all that Selby was ready for your visit. Sam checked in with Bucky to which he responded with a curt nod.

As you made your way along the back end of the bar, you could see the stacks of cash all over a table and the armed guards that filled up every corner of the room.

“You should know, Baron. People don’t come into my bar and make demands.” Selby turned out to look like what you would imagine her to be. She sat comfortably on her couch with a dominant presence and seemed like she was not someone easy to deal with.

Zemo tried to reassure her that he was making offers not demands to quell her mood. Selby asked how Zemo was able to escape from prison and Zemo replied smugly on how people like them always found a way.

As Zemo tried to shift focus onto the order of business, Selby wasn’t still into it. Making a comment about Sam’s taller than usual height, Sam not knowing what to respond just nodded in silence.

She even purred at him teasingly before her eyes landed on you.

“Who’s this pretty little thing you have here? Where are you from?” Selby’s eyes narrowed in as you sense everyone starting to look flustered by the unexpected question. You were just meant to play a background character but didn’t expect the sudden attention.

Biting your lips into a furtive grin, you snaked your hands around Sam’s biceps. “Daddy picked me up from the club that I was working at. He says I am his one and only now.”

The men all tried to stop their jaws from dropping to the floor at your sweetly coy act. Who were you?

“Hmm…” Selby hummed while she looked you up and down. “You can do better, sweetie,” Selby remarked smugly before giving a subtle gesture to herself.

Lips forming into an ‘o’, you feigned a surprised reaction at the flattery. You tried to send a flirtatious look back so that Selby would be in a better mood.

Your act was rewarded when Selby grinned wider and asked Zemo for his offer. In exchange for information on the super-soldier serum, Zemo was willing to trade Bucky in pretence. He added how he would give Selby the codes word to control Bucky, treating him like an object.

A wave of anger started rushing through you as the scene unfolded and you glanced to see how Selby became more intrigued.

“Hmm, I have plenty of strong men already working for me. What else can he offer?” Zemo was taken aback by Selby’s words, thinking that she would already be interested in Bucky.

As the men were grappling to come up with a good response, you went on your first instinct and spoke up.

“Well he is rather handsome, isn’t he?” Everyone’s focus turned onto you and you took a breath to continue as Selby gave you an expecting look.

“Not as handsome as my daddy here but-” Walking around Sam, you headed towards Bucky who was trying to look unbothered but dying of curiosity on what you were about to do.

“He seems like fun to play with.” You purred as you gazed at Bucky’s profile. You gestured for Bucky to face you and could see how he was still staying in character. Running your fingers down his five o'clock shadow, your eyes glinted as you batted your lashes flirtatiously before looking over your shoulder back at Shelby.

“You can’t help but imagine having a good time with him. Super soldier serum should have some perks, no?” Your hidden innuendo was loud and clear to everyone in the room. If this didn’t appeal to Selby, you didn’t know what will.

Sam was trying his hardest to maintain his expression as he couldn’t believe his ears. Never in a million years would he think the sweet and innocent Y/N he knew actually dared to speak like that.

Bucky did his best to tighten his jaw and continue his stoic facade to hide the shock from what you had just said.

Never did he thought you would take the situation to such a turn. Your improv was unexpected and he couldn’t believe the woman in front of him was actually you.

Your sudden bold and cheeky persona was doing something to him. Your innuendo about him started to make him feel hot in his ears. Bucky had to clench his fist tightly to get himself to hold it together as he felt his heart racing out of nowhere.

He didn’t know what was happening to him but he knew you were having some sort of effect on him.

“Of course, that’s my silly opinion.” Turning to face Selby with a mischievous smile to keep up your character, you noted her looking at you thoughtfully as she rubbed her chin.

“Not just pretty but you’re witty, aren’t you?” Selby noted as she grinned like a Cheshire cat. Satisfied with your input, Selby then revealed what she knew about the super-soldier serums.

Apparently, there was a doctor, Dr William Nagel who has been helping the power broker to create the serums here in Madripoor. When Zemo tried to probe further about Nagel’s location, Selby decided that Zemo was overstepping.

In the very next moment, you could hear a vibration of a phone and saw Sam reaching out to his jacket.

Great, all of your covers might be blown. Selby demands that Sam answered it on speaker. The tension in the room could be cut with a knife. To carry on the act, Sam reluctantly proceeded to answer the phone.

A woman’s voice came up and in the next sentences spoken, you realised that she was his sister, Sarah. Oh boy, this wouldn’t end well. You closed your eyes in prayer as you hoped it can go over smoothly.

Taking a sharp intake of breath, you looked to see Bucky glancing down in shared unease. Sam was doing his best to make sure his cover won’t get blown. You thought all was going well but when you heard Sam’s name from Sarah, you knew you were all toast.

Selby immediately called for all of you to be killed and in that moment, all hell broke loose. Selby got shot in a blink of an eye and her guards were up in action. Bucky pushed you behind him protectively as he fought off Selby’s men.

Once all her guards are dealt with, Zemo called for weapons to drop and you took the back exit.

Making a swift escape, all of you tried to play it cool while taking long quick strides. The sound of the first gunshot made you jumped and sprang into a run. You saw Zemo took off in another direction but you didn’t have time for him.

You, Bucky and Sam decided to sprint ahead. “I can’t run in these heels.” Sam cried out and you retorted in annoyance.

“How do you think I feel? Mine’s twice as taller than yours!”

Bucky reached over to grab your hand and interlocked your fingers together. His super-speed was practically lifting you off the ground, dragging you like a rag dog.

"Hey! What the hell man? What about me?" Bucky ignored Sam's whining and focused on not letting your hand go.

Not knowing where you are headed, a sense of dread started pouring on you and you grew anxious by the second. People on motorbikes were starting to drive up behind you three.

You were wondering if it’s time to not give care and actually use your powers for real this time. All of a sudden, the two people on the bikes behind you have been shot by someone from above and you stopped in your tracks to locate that individual, fearing you were next.

Zemo reappeared from the shadows and claimed that you all might have a guardian angel.

“Drop it, Zemo.” The familiar voice brought relief as you matched it to the face that emerged into your sight.

Your smile at the thought of a friendly face faltered when she continued pointing a gun towards all of you. Sharon didn’t seem as pleased as you were. Turns out she had to fall off the grid and found herself in Madripoor after the turn of events many years ago.

"Y/N, is that you?" She took a double-take on you, probably not used to seeing you dress up like this.

"Hey." You awkwardly replied. The moment didn't last as Sharon trained her eyes on the men and continued to be hostile.

Your heart dropped as you hear her telling of how she was unable to be in contact with her family anymore. She had become a fugitive and still is. An immense amount of guilt washed all over you when she retorted about how she wasn’t backed by the Avengers.

You weren’t batch mates with Sharon back in S.H.I.E.L.D academy but you became friends when you crossed paths during work. You could not believe you haven’t reached out to her all this time.

Bucky pleaded with Sharon for her help and Sharon gave a thoughtful look at all of you. When she saw you with your uncomfortable expression, she gave a sighed and stated that she wasn’t done discussing the topic.

Offering refuge in her place at High Town, all of you accept it.

You sat beside her in the front and the two of you exchanged silent looks before she started the engine. What were the odds of seeing her again in Madripoor?

You hoped to be able to get a chance to talk to her later.

-------------------------//---------------------------

Tag list: @tanyaherondale @spookycereal-s @cataves @conflicted-noxsirius

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x oc #bucky x you #tfatws #marvel fanfiction #the falcon and the winter soldier #bucky barnes #beautiful pain #angstsfordays #bucky barnes fanfiction

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deprecavi · 4 years ago

Text

Kaeya had managed to get Jean to agree to let Klee out of solitary confinement with a solemn promise from the girl that she would behave and his own word that he would keep an eye on her. He wanted Klee to have a chance to play Aether’s game before Aether stopped creating matches, the traveler had already indicated that he would only be setting them up for another day or two. Albedo was working on duplicating some of the ideas Kaeya had come up with for their own version to play with Klee at a later date, but Kaeya was going to take Klee out for an actual match first.

She had invited Diona along and Kaeya met up with Aether flanked by the pair of them, Klee practically bouncing with excitement, using Kaeya’s hand she was holding to propel herself slightly higher. Diona had declined the offer to hold hands, insisting she was quite old enough to walk on her own thank you. She had also very seriously informed Kaeya, when Klee wasn’t listening, that she was only coming because she’d heard Aether saying they were going all the way to Liyue again and she wanted to check for potential cocktail ingredients out there. Kaeya offered to try them if she mixed anything, and she gave him a disgusted look.

Aether transported them out to Quince village using the teleport technology that Kaeya found immensely handy but also thoroughly disorienting each time he used it alongside the traveler. No one else seemed capable of activating it but Aether, so usually Kaeya rarely came out this far, as it was a long journey to do so. Diona looked slightly queasy for a moment and Kaeya could sympathize, remembering the first time Aether had taken him along via teleport. Klee’s enthusiasm had momentarily waned as she took a moment to reorient herself.

Kaeya, for his part, was admiring the scenery. The multi-leveled terraces that made the main geography of the village were beautiful in themselves, sweeping formations of low stone walls, but the colored flowers contained within only made things even more aesthetically pleasing. He noted the area that Aether was leading them toward contained significantly more scarecrows and remembered that the traveler had indicated that was his newest idea as a disguise. He’d apparently abandoned the notion of boxes and barrels, as there were none placed in the area for the trio to use.

A tall woman who looked like she meant business was waiting as they entered the area Aether had set up for the game, and the traveler introduced her as Ningguang, the Tianquan of the Liyue Qixing. Kaeya arched one eyebrow at the title, wondering what such a figure was doing, agreeing to play a game with literal children. She did not quite match up to his expectations of her from the correspondence she and Jean shared, and he suspected she might be the type to take this game very seriously despite playing with rebels as young as Diona and Klee. He just hoped she would give the rebels enough time for Klee to get a real taste of the game.

Aether had clearly already set expectations with Ningguang, as he turned to Kaeya, Klee, and Diona instead to explain the new area. There were numerous dead snags in the watery areas of some of the terraces that were hollow and could be hidden inside by someone of Klee or Diona’s size, though Kaeya doubted he could fit into one. The scarecrows were also an option, red and blue and scattered throughout the fields. Kaeya could also see a couple of trees toward the back of the area that looked promising as vantage points, high above the rest of the area, not to mention a small house he could easily scale.

When Aether gave the signal for the rebels to hide, Diona dashed off on her own immediately but Klee followed Kaeya. He kept his pace to something she could match, mindful that his legs were quite literally longer than her entire body, jogging as she dashed beside him. The time to hide wasn’t going to be quite long enough to get all the way up into the trees if Klee was coming with him, so he stopped in one of the higher terraces instead.

“How about a scarecrow?” he suggested. Klee nodded enthusiastically.

“Klee will hide with big brother Kaeya!” she announced. He didn’t have the heart to tell her the best strategy was for the rebels to all hide separately. He helped her climb into the blue scarecrow, tucking her securely inside it so that her glaring red was not visible, wondering if perhaps he should have opted for a red one instead. He climbed up to a second scarecrow himself, the straw tickling his face as he wriggled into the space Aether had designated for the hiding rebels. As usual, Aether’s hiding places were designed with people his own height and shorter in mind, leaving Kaeya and other tall players to struggle to adapt.

Below them, Aether signaled for Ningguang to start hunting. She circled the watery terrace first, examining the dead snags before heading up past Kaeya and Klee toward the higher ground.

“Stay still,” Kaeya breathed a warning at Klee, who had started to wriggle with the delight of being overlooked when Ningguang went by. She obediently went still, though he heard her small muffled giggle. Ningguang was attempting to scale the cliff face toward the back of the area, though she kept slipping. Her shoes were not meant for climbing, and neither was that dress. She clearly realized that herself, as she turned away and went to examine the trees Kaeya had been eyeing. Perhaps it was for the best that he hadn’t followed his initial instinct, she was clearly a sharp hunter when it came to strategic locations.

Kaeya suspected she had only overlooked him and Klee because of how mundane their hiding place was, she’d gone to check the more clever spots first. Beside him, Klee was shifting again, trying to keep an eye on the hunter and still giggling over the thrill of the game in general. She had moved enough that part of her red hat was now visible and Kaeya thought again that he should have opted for a red scarecrow to hide her in. It wasn’t the same shade of red, but it would have been less glaringly obvious than the blue was.

“Klee, when I give the signal, I want you to run,” Kaeya instructed, noting that Ningguang had also seen the tell-tale red fabric of Klee’s hat from her vantage point and was making her way back down toward them. He didn’t think she realized he was also there.

“Ok!” Klee agreed brightly. She wiggled loose and waited, watching him rather than Ningguang. Kaeya waited until Ningguang was a few steps away.

“Go!” He called, extricating himself from the scarecrow so rapidly that it essentially disintegrated, throwing himself between Klee and the hunter. Klee leapt down and dashed off, laughing. Ningguang, caught off guard by Kaeya’s sudden appearance, switched targets immediately and reached out to capture him instead. “Let her have a little fun, hm?” he suggested with a chuckle. Ningguang let out a low laugh in return.

“I intend to win.” She gave him a gentle shove toward Aether’s vantage point and Kaeya shrugged, strolling over to wait by the traveler. Klee was still racing across the terraces below, a bright beacon of red easy for Ningguang to track amid the orange and yellow flowers.

“Next time I’m getting her a different jacket,” Kaeya commented to Aether, who laughed. Ningguang, despite her heels, easily caught up to Klee with her long legs and neatly captured her second rebel. Kaeya spotted Diona in another terrace, with no disguise, putting a flower in her mouth experimentally. She was clearly more caught up in the notion of finding a new ingredient for her cocktails than playing the game and it was a wonder Ningguang hadn’t already noticed her.

“Did I run good?” Klee asked breathlessly as she trotted over to Kaeya and Aether. Kaeya laughed and ruffled her hair through the hat affectionately.

“You ran very well, Klee. Keep it up and you’ll outrun me someday.” She beamed at him proudly and tugged at his trailing decorative overcoat.

“Pick me up!” she demanded, and he complied, placing her on his shoulders so she could have a better view of the playing field. “Run Diona!” she hollered at her friend, whom Ningguang had just spotted as the girl chased a butterfly. Diona looked back toward Klee, saw Ningguang bearing down on her, and jumped, her cat tail stiffening in a way that was almost comical to Kaeya. She took off at a dead run, but the height advantage Ningguang had gave the hunter an undeniable edge and she neatly captured her third rebel.

“Ah well, that’s a loss for us. Better luck next time,” Kaeya chuckled. Klee bounced on his shoulders.

“Let’s play again!” she demanded, and Kaeya laughed, looking at Aether.

“Well traveler? Do you have another round set up?” Aether laughed and said he’d work on it for them.

#windtrace #genshin impact #kaeya #klee #diona #ningguang #i finally had a match with a klee player and it was somewhere i hadn't written yet #and when they literally hid right beside me i couldn't help writing this #i was sitting there like klee no you can't hide right next to me #but klee would absolutely want to hide with her big brother #ningguang did catch me instead of klee but klee didn't escape for long #those tiny legs only get children so far lol #genshin impact writing #my writing #oops i forgot to tag #aether

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lupinsx · 5 years ago

Text

Petty Rivals

masterlist

Request: Hii💓 I absolutely adore your writing! Could you maybe write one where the reader is a slytherin and she’s on the quidditch team, and she has a sort of rivalry with Draco (on and off the pitch lol) and she gets severely injured during one of the matches and Draco is surprisingly really worried about her because she got really hurt? Sorry about my english haha :) Thank you!!

Pairing: Draco Malfoy x Slytherin!Reader

Summary: You and Draco hate each other, always competing in sports and academics. An injury to your head might just be enough for him to put aside their petty rivalry.

Word Count: 2.4k

part two

a/n — Thank you for the request! I apologize for how long this took, it's been a busy week for me. I hope you enjoy it! (UPDATE: Part two is up! Click the link above to read Hopeless Romantics).

——————————

"Hey Y/N, quick question, are Chasers usually this slow?"

You stopped in your tracks and whipped your head towards the direction of the voice. Draco Malfoy stood arrogantly next to his broomstick, arms crossed with a smirk on his face making your blood boil.

You were on the stands, approaching your water bottle as the rest of the team took a break. It's been an hour of practice, and so far, all Draco did was catch the Golden Snitch a couple times before resuming his observations. You knew such boredom would lead to him over analyzing your every move, but you had underestimated to which extent.

Rolling your eyes in irritation, you responded with a sneer, "I don't know, are Seekers usually this useless?"

There was a chorus of groans coming from the seats where the rest of the Slytherin Quidditch team sat. They were sick of you two arguing every chance you could — admittedly, everyone was.

Ignoring the annoyed glares coming from the team, Draco strided towards you with a mocking chuckle. "Very funny, but you're gonna have to keep up with the rest if you want to stay on the team."

"I don't see Flint trying to kick me out anytime soon."

"Don't be too sure about that, Y/N."

"Why you insolent little git!"

You and Draco stood inches apart, ears tuned out to the comments from your teammates. He was only slightly taller than you, making him tilt his chin up to hold an intimidating stance. You merely held his glare with an equally harsh look.

After a moment of silence and thick tension, Marcus Flint stood up and held your collars back to separate you two. While Draco sent you a sly smirk, you kept your glare directed at him.

"As amusing as this petty rivalry is, it's getting quite annoying. Bring this attitude to the pitch on Saturday and I'll have no trouble bringing in substitutes."

"You heard him, Y/N, don't be annoying," Draco teased, making you reach your arm to slap the back of his head. As he hissed in pain, Flint glared daggers at you two, releasing his grip as he walked away in defeat. It seemed like nobody could get you two to stop.

"Practice dismissed, I'm done with you guys," Flint announced in exasperation. The rest of the team was quick to follow after.

Rolling your eyes, you walked to the railing and picked up your broom. "You can leave now, I'm going to stay to practice."

"No, I'm staying to practice!"

Neither of you ended up staying to practice that day.

~~~

"The cuts are supposed to be diagonal, not vertical!"

"I'm sorry Draco, I'm trying."

"Try harder then."

You let out a frustrated groan and rolled your eyes in annoyance. It was hard enough that you were paired with Draco for Potions, but he couldn't make it any more bearable.

Taking a deep breath to calm your anger, you resumed cutting, this time trying to abide by his directions. Though, it didn't take long before he snatched the knife from your grip and began cutting it himself.

"It's this simple. Seriously, how have you managed to survive in this class?" he asked with a condescending sneer. It took all of your might not to hex him into oblivion at that moment.

Your hands balled into tight fists as you looked up at him in irritation. Jaw clenched and teeth gritted, you muttered, "I've managed quite fine, thank you very much."

"Hmph, I doubt it," Draco said very cockily while he added the cut fluxweed into the cauldron. You hated people looking down on you, talking as if they were your superior. You had enough of that throughout your lifetime; you didn't need Draco to put you down further.

When it came to Quidditch, you were able to withstand the constant teasing and give a couple insults yourself. You were already assured and confident in your skill, so the meaningless comments never got to you. But when it came to Potions, you were never the best at it. It was one of your weakest subjects, so you felt hurt when the best student in the class spoke so lowly of your abilities.

Without regard to the furious expression on your face, he continued in a mockingly high-pitched tone, speaking as if you were a child, "Now, would you like me to cut the knotgrass for you too or do you think you can handle it yourself?"

It was at this moment when your thinning patience broke.

Slamming your fist onto the table, you glared at him with all your strength. He looked shocked for a moment while the rest of your classmates suddenly tuned in to the commotion.

"Stop treating me like a baby! It was a small mistake, I'm sorry. But I don't need you acting like an condescending asshole because of it."

It was a relief that Professor Snape wasn't present to witness your outburst, but it wouldn't have mattered to you anyways. Grabbing your bag, you stormed out of the room, making sure to slam the door on your way out.

Draco avoided the gaze of his classmates and continued working on the potion, but he couldn't ignore the sharp pang of guilt he felt in his heart.

~~~

For the rest of the week, you were adamant on ignoring Draco. He would often look up and prepare to approach you whenever you'd enter a shared class, but you were skillful in avoiding him. Too many teachers walked in at just the right moment for it to be a mere coincidence.

Once Saturday rolled in, you were quick to enter the Great Hall. You timed your morning so that you'd be done your breakfast by the time the rest of the Slytherins arrived. Thankfully, your plan worked accordingly, as you were just finishing up your plate when the dining hall began getting populated.

Upon noticing Draco alongside the rest of the Slytherin Quidditch team arrive through the door, you got up and prepared to leave.

"Y/N! Gone so soon?" Pansy Parkinson asked, jogging to your side. You gave her a shrug and an apologetic smile as your pushed open the exit.

"Sorry, need to clear my head before the game," you said, not feeling as sorry for lying. She nodded and flashed you an encouraging smile, one that you returned kindly before leaving the Great Hall.

You immediately headed towards the pitch, wanting to begin warming up on your own before the team arrives. Walking through the soft grass, you closed your eyes and simply took in the sunlight. It was a beautiful day, and you were fortunate to be able to spend it playing Quidditch.

You loved the sport, ever since you were seven years old. When your dad bought you a mini broomstick that levitates two feet off the floor, you absolutely hated having to get off it at the end of the day. Once you were finally able to get your hands on a real one at age ten, you felt as though you finally found your true calling. It was a sweet moment, and you found yourself smiling softly at the thought.

As you listened to the birds chirp in the distance and relied on your muscle memory to bring you to the pitch, you suddenly felt a hand grab your wrist and lightly jerk you back. Your eyes flew open in shock, only to be met with a pair of stormy grey ones staring back at you.

"I'm sorry," Draco said, keeping his grip on your wrist. You fought the urge to suddenly accept his apology, reminding yourself of how he was acting earlier into the week.

You rolled your eyes and slipped your wrist out of his enclosed palm. "Yeah, and?"

He blinked at you for a moment, not expecting your icy response. Then, Draco's face twisted into an annoyed expression, diverting his eyes from yours. "Well fine then, can't say I didn't try to apologize."

"You're unbelievable!"

"And you're insanely entitled!"

"You—" you suddenly paused you sentence, noticing your teammates coming out through the doors. Remembering what Flint said last practice, you bit your tongue back and simply stormed off with a glare. You didn't want to sit out the game for the sake of a mere barb.

The locker room felt tense for you two after that. You refused to glance at him while the team captain gave his brief speech. When you all huddled in for a cheer, you relocated upon seeing him by your side. It was a relief you didnt have to work with Draco on the pitch; otherwise, you would have gladly accepted a substitute.

With your brooms mounted and teams in position, you all flew into the air, ready for the game to commence. As the whistle blew, you immediately rushed into action.

It was a relatively successful game so far. Slytherin maintained a lead by a couple points, but the opponents, Ravenclaw, was always quick to catch up. Though you were able to score quite a bit for the team, you were beginning to feel a little tired.

"Y/N, keep up with them!" you heard being shouted from afar. Briefly glancing to the voice, you weren't surprised to see it was Draco who called out to you.

Of course, at a time like this he still wouldn't quit.

You continued flying alongside the other Chasers, staying in the formation that was planned. You managed to gain a few more points through this, but it still wasn't a very sizable difference.

"90-70! Slytherin is in the lead, Ravenclaw close behind."

"Won't be leading for long if you keep flying at this pace," Draco said, swooping down lower to meet your level. He left before you could respond, but you chose not to react and instead focus on the game in front of you.

Eventually, you noticed Ravenclaw gain possession of the Quaffle, grabbing your attention. You immediately flew to the Chaser, merely a little over an arm's length away from reaching for the ball.

You extended your arm as far as you could. Flew as fast as your broom could handle. You were so close to grabbing the Quaffle. So painfully close.

"Y/N!"

Draco's voice took you out of your zone. He was shouting for you once again, most likely to insult you as he has been throughout the game. You snapped your head towards him in fury, only to see him rapidly pointing behind you with wide eyes.

What does that even mean?

You soon found out when a large Bludger came hurling towards your head, knocking you off your broom. A chorus of gasps was heard from the audience as you began free-falling down to the field.

It was terrifying. It felt like gravity had a tight grip on your entire body as it pulled you down seemingly faster than the speed of light. Your eyes were squeezed shut in fear, head pounding from the hit, body laid limp and nearly unconscious. Death itself seemed a mere moment away.

Until suddenly, a broomstick came swooping down, attempting to reach you fast enough to prevent a harsh landing. Draco's eyebrows were furrowed in determination as he extended his arm towards your figure.

And just as you were about to share a less than pleasant kiss with the grass, Draco caught you by your collar, before grabbing the back of your knees to hold you bridal style. He then landed on his feet, still carrying your semi-unconscious body in his arms.

"Pause the game! Someone bring Madam Pomfrey!" shouted Madam Hooch, exiting her position in the stands to go over to you guys.

The Slytherin Quidditch team flew lower to see what's going on, along with a couple curious Ravenclaw players. It was a relief to them that you didn't hit the ground, but the impact from the Bludger was enough to knock you out.

As Madam Pomfrey came rushing onto the pitch, Draco refused to let go of your body. He was visibly shaking, worry evident in his eyes and uneven breath. He was so close to losing you, and the mere thought of that scared him.

"Mr. Malfoy, you may let her go now. I'm going to take her to do some examinations in the hospital wing," the witch said calmly, giving Draco a reassuring smile. "Don't worry; she's in good hands."

Draco still looked hesitant, keeping a tight grip on your body. "I'll carry her there."

Without hearing his suggestion, Marcus Flint flew down to the grass to approach him. He glanced at your unconscious body with a concerned expression before looking back up to Draco.

"Draco, come back up. We need our Seeker. For now, we'll bring in a substitute for Y/N," Flint said, giving him a small pat on his upper back. Draco immediately shook his head in refusal.

"No, I'm taking her to the hospital wing."

"Whoa, where did this change of attitude come from?" Draco merely rolled his eyes in response, walking away with you in his arms. Madam Pomfrey was quick to follow after, keeping a close eye on your condition.

He carried you all the way into the castle, and towards the hospital wing. Upon arriving at the bed, he laid you down gently, careful not to cause any further pain. You remained asleep throughout the entire process.

"Will she be alright?" Draco asked impatiently, his gaze directed to your still figure. His hand made his way to your forehead, delicately caressing the area you got hit.

Sending another grin his way, Madam Pomfrey nodded in assurance. Draco stepped away for a couple minutes for her to properly treat you. It was painful for him, watching how your eyes would squeeze tighter every once in a while despite being unconscious. He wanted to take away your pain away, to have prevented your injury earlier. But he couldn't. And it killed him inside.

"You look awfully worried," Madam Pomfrey said jokingly as she turned around to grab a vial. Her words broke Draco out of his brief trance. Looking down, a small blush appeared in his cheeks.

"Of course I am, I'm her—" he suddenly cut himself off. I'm her what? Friend? Enemy? Petty rival?

He didn't know what he was. All he knew was that he desperately wanted you to be okay.

Petty rivals it is, then.

——————————

a/n — Thank you for reading! Please like, comment, or reblog to give feedback or show support! Requests are open, so feel free to send what you'd like to see written to my inbox!

#harry potter fanfiction #draco one shot #writing #draco malfoy imagines #draco fanfiction #my prompts #harry potter one shot #draco malfoy one shot #draco malfoy #draco x reader imagines #draco malfoy x reader #draco x reader #harry potter x reader

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dailyexo · 4 years ago

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[INTERVIEW] Lay - 200819 Rolling Stone India: “How Lay Zhang Claimed The Throne of M-pop”

"The singer-songwriter and producer offers an in-depth look into his latest record ‘Lit,’ his evolution as an artist and finding the balance between East and West

When I last spoke to Lay Zhang in 2018, he was embarking on an ambitious but daunting journey to bring Mandarin pop aka M-pop to the world. “I hope they think, ‘This artist isn’t bad,’” he had said with some trepidation in his voice. “I hope that they find my music special and maybe… they’ll want to learn more about me and Chinese music.” The singer-songwriter and producer aspired to create a true hybrid of traditional and modern music, a sound that defines our generation’s ability to package the past for the future.

Zhang, more commonly known by his stage name LAY, first debuted in 2012 as a member of world-famous K-pop group, EXO. Although he remains a member of the group, he’s spent the last couple of years in China to focus on a solo career and spotlight his own country’s burgeoning pop scene. It’s a process he kicked off with his second studio album Namanana in 2018, but he was still some time away from realizing his dream of pushing Chinese pop to a global stage.

It’s been nearly two years since our conversation for Rolling Stone India’s November 2018 cover feature, and any signs of trepidation are a thing of the past for LAY. We could chalk it up to him being two years older and wiser, but I’d like to think it’s because he kept his promise to bring M-pop to the world. If Namanana was just a dip in the pool of fusion experimentation, his latest studio album Lit is the deep dive.

“It is the evolution of M-pop for me,” LAY explains. “I wanted to take it to another level. When you hear the Chinese instruments, you know it is a different sound and vibe. The style is more pop, R&B, and hip-hop influenced with the Chinese instruments thoughtfully mixed in.” Comprising a total of 12 songs (all written and co-produced by LAY) Lit was released as two EPs instead of one LP; the first dropped in June while the second made its appearance in July. Nearly every track presents a fresh blend of traditional Chinese instruments like the hulusi, guzheng, flutes and gong with modern genres like trap, R&B, soul, hip-hop, future bass, dubstep and more. It’s a complex, refined and intricate record, utilizing production techniques that clearly outline LAY’s growth as an artist over the past two years. In retrospect, Namanana comes across a slightly more naive record–innocent and optimistic with a hope that international audiences would embrace both M-pop and LAY. Lit however seeks to take a different path and carves out the future LAY envisions with cool confidence and fearless production.

The tracks seesaw smoothly from Mandarin to English and back, with LAY showcasing both his vocal and rap skills. It’s an extremely powerful and expansive album, hair-raising at some moments due to the sheer surprises the artist packs in (at one point I hear what sounds like the tabla on “Call My Name” and it catches me totally off-guard.) Some of the collaborators on the record include big names like hip-hop hitmaker Murda Beatz, Grammy Award-winning producer Scott Storch, composer and producer Mitchell Owens and Grammy-nominated songwriter Mike Daley to name a few. For the title track “Lit,” LAY recruited China-native Anti-General who created a vicious and chilling trap/dubstep beat to complement lyrics that decimate LAY’s haters, gossip-mongers and the media, challenging them to come forward and take him down if they dare. The track sees the singer-songwriter rightfully crown himself a ‘king’ and leader in the music industry.

If that wasn’t enough, the music video for “Lit” is without a doubt one of the best released in 2020. With hundreds of extras, dancers, impeccable CGI and a compelling storyline, it’s more movie than music video, portraying LAY as a warrior king who refuses to be defeated. As executive producer, music director and co-choreographer on the project, LAY pays homage to China’s rich history and culture with tons of historical references and traditional symbolism. I tell him I particularly loved the symbolism of a white lotus emerging untouched and pure from the black ink–representing LAY’s rise in the industry–and he shares that the magnificent dragon that appears at the end was his personal favorite. “It was super important that we added it in,” he says. “It represents my wishes, aspirations and my relentless desire to always pursue perfection in the works that I create. I want my dancing, visuals, and music to be the very best it possibly can be.”

Lit is also thematically more complex and layered than any of LAY’s previous works, exploring concepts that revolve around confidence, love, fame, the media, success and more. “The album continues to explore chasing your dream,” the singer explains. “This time it’s about more personal things in my life. Like hometown, family and self-doubt.” A phonetic play on the word for lotus (莲 / lian) in Mandarin, ‘lit’ is a clever pun used to describe LAY’s similarity to a lotus and his prowess as a musician. He named the album after the lotus because of the symbolism of it growing and blossoming from dirt or mud. The lotus also continues the theme of duality with Lit’s two-part release, and, according to LAY’s team, “represents a new birth plus a new sound in the midst of all his past achievements.”

The album’s success more than speaks for itself– when the pre-order for Lit went live on China’s QQ Music streaming platform, nine certification records were instantly broken as it surpassed 1.5 million pre-orders within seven minutes and 19 seconds. This immediately pushed the EP to Number One on QQ Music’s daily and weekly album sales charts. Lit has also made LAY the best-selling artist in China in 2020, with a whopping 2.5 million records sold. It’s a testament to his drive and determination as an artist, the attention to detail and refusal to back down. The record’s international success was no less, hitting top 10 positions on iTunes charts across 32 countries, bagging 21 Number One spots and firmly cementing LAY’s position as the global megastar that he is.

Some things however, never change; brand deals, TV shows, multiple singles, EPs and collaborations keep his schedule completely booked and– just like back in 2018– it’s extremely tough to pin him down for a conversation. He’s currently in the middle of filming a reality show and has several other projects in the pipeline, but still makes the time to catch up and answer a few questions for Rolling Stone India. In this exclusive interview, LAY details his most successful record yet, the journey of finding the balance between East and West, dealing with the dark side of media attention and why the relationship between an artist and their fans needs to be a two-way street.

Congratulations on the release and tremendous success of Lit! It is an absolutely phenomenal record and I was thrilled to see you explore so many new streams of production. Can you tell me a little bit about the process of making this album and do you feel you met your own expectations for it?

For this album I wanted to mix in Chinese traditional instruments and tell Chinese stories. It is the evolution of M-pop for me. I wanted to take it to another level. When you hear the Chinese instruments you know it is a different sound and vibe. It is hard to say if I met my own expectations. As an artist you never ever feel your work is perfect. You can always find spots where you can improve. But I think what I was able to do with my team in the time we had was great.

You dove deeper into the fusion of tradition and modernity on this album than Namanana—there was a larger variety of Chinese instruments used as well as bilingual wordplay with language in the lyrics. In what ways do you feel you’ve evolved as a producer and songwriter since that album to Lit?

I am still trying to find the right style and combination to share my music and Chinese culture with the world. Lit was an example of my growth. I had this desire to include traditional stories and instruments from Chinese culture. Trying to find the balance with the Western music was challenging. I had to think and spend a lot of time arranging the chords around and fitting everything together. Also with this album I am talking about things in a more personal level and taking time to explain with more of an artistic style. I feel like I am growing up on this journey.

Lit is the first part of a series of EPs which will make a whole LP—why did you want to release it in this format and when did you begin working on the record?

I split it into two parts to give time to people to listen to it. I feel like if I released 12 songs at once, people may not give enough time to listen to each track. But when there are just six tracks each time, then it gives people time to listen more carefully. I started this project maybe early 2019.

The title track “Lit” is about your battle with the media, hateful netizens and malicious comments/rumors. Does it get easier over time to deal with this obsessive analysis of your life or does it never really ebb away?

It will always bother you, but over time you learn to deal with it. You focus on it less and less and back on what you love doing. When I make my music or learn dance or do anything I love, I kind of forget about it. Just focus on your goals and dreams and everything else becomes background noise.

The music for “Lit” is, in my opinion, the best of 2020 so far. Can you tell me a little about your role as the executive producer and music director on this project? How did the concept come about?

I was very involved in the project. I oversaw a lot of things that happened and discussed with almost everyone on the team on how to achieve my vision. When I was making the song I was thinking about how do we share Chinese culture. I thought filming in an ancient palace would catch people’s attention. It took off from there when discussing with the director. We started adding more and more elements of Chinese culture. We were trying to tell the story of Xiang Yu, a warlord who rebelled against the mighty Qin Dynasty but wasn’t able to conquer China. I’m Xiang Yu, but I’m trying to change my fate and succeed in my goal.

You incorporated Chinese Peking Opera in the music video version of the track and visual elements of Peking Opera in the album art for “Jade”–What was the motivation behind that decision and is there a particular story that the opera section references?

I wanted to bring people back in time to ancient China. I reference the traditional Chinese story of Xiang Yu and his love, Concubine Yu, so then I added in select passages from the Peking Opera Farewell My Concubine which tells their tragic story.

You displayed your incredible skills in dancing in this music video and you recently talked about how dancing was a way for you to show the audience who you are. Did you feel a sense of relief that the audience can see you or understand you a bit better after the release of “Lit”? Can the audience ever truly understand an artist?

It feels good to know people can see me and understand me more. I don’t think people can ever understand an artist completely. But they can relate to many things. I think that is a challenge for an artist to see how they can use their music to connect with people. It is a worthy challenge.

How do you hope that the artist you are today crafts the Lay Zhang of tomorrow?

I always believe in working hard and improving. I hope that the Lay Zhang of tomorrow continues to keep looking for ways to improve his art. I hope he never gives up his dreams.

Last time we spoke, we talked about Asian traditions represented in global mainstream pop culture. Now as you’ve grown as a megastar, you are one of the leading names in pop filling that space, bringing your heritage to the stage. Why is it important for our generation to see ourselves and our histories represented on these platforms by artists?

It is important for people to remember where they come from. They should know their own history and how their culture came to be. Also, it lets other people know another culture and have a deeper understanding. It can stop miscommunication and it helps people be closer to each other.

Why do fans need to see themselves in an artist? Does it work the same on the other side, do you as an artist see yourself in your fans?

I want fans to be able to relate with an artist. It is important for a fan to see themselves in artist and an artist to see themselves in a fan. When you can see each other you are able to understand each other better. You can connect with each other and really feel things.

I absolutely love the ‘Re-Reaction’ videos you have been doing for years and it means a lot to your fans that you take the time to do it. Why did you want to do this series and what does it mean to you to be able to connect with your fans like this and see them react to your work?

I am curious to know what fans and people think of my work. I want to know where I can improve. I want to keep growing as an artist. But also I want to let my fans know that I am reading their comments and I see everything they say.

Other than releasing more music, what are the rest of your plans for 2020? Do you have any film projects that you’re looking at taking up or are you planning on doing something completely different?

I am busy filming a TV drama and a few reality TV shows for the rest of 2020. A very busy schedule.”

Photo links: 1, 2, 3, 4

Credit: Rolling Stone India.

#EXO #EXO M #Lay #200819 #exo im #exo m im #lay im #p:news #t:news #fs:rolling stone india #comeback:Obsession

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the--highlanders · 4 years ago

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Fusion

In which Zoe and the Doctor argue, and Jamie knows more about the future than they expect him to.

on ao3.

“So here’s what we’re going to do.” Swinging her arm in a wide arc across the table, Zoe scraped out a chalk half-circle. The shape was almost startlingly accurate, near-perfect in its evenness – but then again, Jamie thought, he should have stopped underestimating Zoe’s precision a long time ago. “If we assume the ships are spread out in a roughly circular formation -”

“Why not an elliptical formation?” the Doctor interrupted. “Surely that’s more likely. We know the fleet performed a slingshot manoeuvre from Zakhten -”

“But a circle would make more strategic sense,” Zoe argued. “If they were to fire on us from an elliptical formation -”

“Can we make that assumption in our calculations -”

“Listen,” Jamie said loudly, sitting forward to plant his hands palms-down on the table. “Listen!” The Doctor and Zoe paused, both looking over at him with a touch of guilt, like a pair of scolded children. “We don’t have time for this right now.”

“I, ah -” Clearing his throat, the Doctor tugged at his coat lapels. “I suppose you’re right. Do go on, Zoe.”

She scowled at him for a moment longer, but turned back to the table and the chalk in her hand quickly enough. “So,” she began again, her voice still sharp, “if we assume...”

Leaning back in his chair, Jamie folded his arms behind his head and let his mind wander as Zoe sketched out her thoughts. It was at times like this, he thought, that he was glad the Doctor and Zoe could be so fussy over their theories. Oh, they liked to think they were above being petty, both of them – Zoe with her logic, the Doctor with his certainty that he knew what was best. But they tended to end up at loggerheads somewhere along the way, and Jamie himself would have to step in and break up their more heated debates. That was his little bit of usefulness, the thing that kept him from feeling totally out of place between them. They might know more than he could ever dream of, but they still needed him to keep them on track.

They were bickering again now, though Jamie had lost track of the conversation for just slightly too long to know what had started it. The Doctor had grabbed a piece of chalk of his own, and was scribbling calculations over Zoe’s diagram, ignoring her tugging on his arm.

“Did you compensate for air resistance?” he was asking.

Zoe huffed, crossing her arms over her chest. “Of course I did. I do know what I’m doing, Doctor.”

“Ah – yes, I’m quite sure you do, Zoe. But something about these calculation still isn’t adding up -”

“I’ve told you, it’s because you forgot to put the constant in here -”

“They said it was an hour ‘til launch, aye?” Jamie put in, injecting as much boredom into his voice as he could muster. “It’s only been -” He glanced at his watch, then at the clock on the wall. “Twenty minutes? An’ you’re still no closer tae figurin’ out what ye want tae do with these rockets.”

Zoe threw him a withering stare. “You see, Jamie,” she said, in that slow, patient voice she knew perfectly well he hated, “this is rather important. So we need to make sure we get it completely right.”

“Aye, I know,” he replied just as slowly, glaring right back at her. “That’s why I think ye ought tae work together instead of jumpin’ down each other’s throats every five minutes.”

Startled into silence, Zoe glanced over at the Doctor, who simply shrugged. “That’s what I’ve been trying to do,” she murmured, though with too much sheepishness to sound entirely genuine.

Satisfied, Jamie sat forward, resting his elbows on the table and propping his chin up with his hands. He could just about make out the rough shape of the thing, though Zoe’s diagram was all but illegible now, covered in a mess of lines and numbers and shapes. They had settled on the ships ringing in the planet in a semi-circle rather than a half-oval, but Zoe had lost the fight over where the commanding ship was, and its location had been scribbled out and scrawled in a few times over. Twisting his head around, Jamie watched a new string of words emerge behind the Doctor’s chalk stub. Hydro fusion engine, he mouthed to himself as he read. Explode on impact.

Something about that sounded terribly familiar. Almost like he had heard it before – and not too long ago. But where?

Not on this planet, he was sure of that. It had been longer ago. Certainly not on eleventh-century Earth – and not the week before that, either, at that holiday resort on a meteor – maybe hunkered down in a snowstorm shelter on Zelius Minor, a few weeks ago now -

No, he realised. It had been none of those. It had been almost a month ago, on an uninhabited planet so remote that even the TARDIS had not known a single name for it. A galaxy liner had crashed there, blown off-course by something the Doctor called stellar winds. And, as it turned out, some great space-beastie that ate the dust from nebulas. They had landed in the middle of the crash response, and with a wince he remembered how his shoulders had ached after a few hours of carrying people out of the wreckage. It might not have been so bad had the crash not been radioactive. The paramedics had handed him a bulky suit that slowed his movements and grew stuffier and stuffier the more he breathed in it, but they had assured him it would be better than the alternative.

He paused.

The site had been radioactive, yes – because of the ship’s engines. And they were the same engines that these ships had.

The Doctor and Zoe were still arguing over some insignificant little detail. Pushing himself up to stand at the table as authoritatively as they did, he pressed his hands down on the wood again, inadvertently blurring one or two of the myriad calculations.

“Ye said it was a hydro fusion engine,” he said, nodding first to the Doctor, then to the spot on the table where those words were scrawled out. “A wee while ago.”

“Ye-es.” The Doctor spoke slowly, like he was trying and failing to figure out what might be coming next. “Quite common, in ships of this type. Nothing I -” He exchanged a glance with Zoe. “We didn’t expect.”

Zoe nodded – and they might have been missing his point entirely, but Jamie had to admit it was a welcome change to see them agreeing with each other again. As glad as he was that they needed him, brokering some sort of peace quickly grew tiring. “We’ve established that the rockets will cause irreparable damage long before the explosions reach the engines,” she added. “It doesn’t matter what type of engines the ships have.” But then she turned back to the Doctor. “I still think -”

“I’m no’ worried about that,” Jamie said hastily, leaning forward as far as he could until he was almost putting himself between them. “I mean – they’re radioactive, aren’t they?”

As one, the Doctor and Zoe leant back, blinking at him. “Well – yes,” the Doctor said eventually. “Yes, I suppose you could put it like that. They depend on the fusion of particles to release energy, you see, and – ah -” He faltered. “Yes, you could say it’s radioactive.”

“An’ anythin’ that breaks off them’ll be radioactive too,” Jamie pressed on. “An’ those pieces are gonnae fall back down onto the planet.”

“Ah,” was all the Doctor said.

Zoe was no more eloquent. “Oh,” she added. Her mind was almost visibly turning over – but her next words told Jamie that she had been pondering something else entirely. “Jamie,” she said slowly. “You didn’t even know what a tablet was, last week.”

“I figured it out when ye explained,” Jamie protested. “It’s just that everywhere has different names for them.”

She scowled at him, only frowning harder when he reached over to push at her shoulder. “How on Earth do you know what a hydro fusion engine is?”

Jamie opened his mouth to throw some joking answer back to her, but paused when one did not spring to mind as easily as he had hoped. The Doctor stepped in instead, sweeping his sleeve over the table and leaving behind a mess of white powder on both wood and fabric. “There’s no time to lose,” he said, hurrying over to pull on Zoe and Jamie’s sleeves and lead them out of the room. “We must stop the launch. If any of those fragments hit the planet – if they should hit a populated area -”

“The consequences would be enormous,” Zoe agreed. “But we have to do something. About the fleet, I mean.”

“Rockets first,” the Doctor said, his tone as brisk as his stride. “Something later.”

Huffing, Zoe turned back to Jamie. “But how did you know?” she said. “I mean, you can’t have been taught about them. Surely,” she added, sounding rather less confident.

For a moment, Jamie was tempted to lie, to say that of course he had learnt about hydro fusion engines as a child, who had not? But Zoe looked so earnestly baffled. And besides, the weight of their urgency was far too heavy for him to be able to carry it off for long. “I just remember it,” he said at last. “Ye know – a wee while ago, with that other ship. Ye an’ the Doctor talked about it. I don’t know what it does, or why it’s radioactive, just that it is.”

“But – you know about hydro fusion engines,” Zoe insisted. “And not about – all sorts of things. Simple things, things that were around decades before my time.”

Jamie tipped his head towards her. “’Spose so. I dinnae really think about it.” It would be odd, he supposed, if he were in Zoe’s place. Listening to someone talk about a sickle without knowing what an anvil was. “But it’s all the future to me. Doesnae really matter when it’s from. I know it or I don’t.”

“I suppose so,” Zoe parroted. She scrunched her face up, visibly mulling it over. “I just can’t imagine it. Not seeing how things build on each other.”

“I can see that, alright. Just no’ always – what’s buildin’ on what.”

“But that’s the point -”

The Doctor was halfway down the corridor already, and he turned, all but hopping from one foot to the other in his impatience. “Come on, you two!” he called back to them. “We don’t have much time.”

“We’re coming,” Zoe called back, pushing herself onwards a touch faster. Jamie matched her speed, striding on beside her, and watched as her expression softened, the confusion fading away. When at last she glanced over at him, it had turned to something more affectionate. “You’re one of the strangest people I’ve ever met, Jamie McCrimmon.”

He grinned. It was not often that Zoe looked at anyone like that, so freely and easily. Strange, perhaps, that she should be looking so happy when they were hurrying down a corridor to stop a rocket launch that would wipe out half a planet’s population – but maybe that was another thing that should not surprise him about Zoe. “Is that a compliment?”

She broke into a smile at that, taking his hand, and he squeezed hers in return. “Yes, it is.”

#second doctor #fanfic archive #my writing

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duhragonball · 3 years ago

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[FIC] Luffa: The Legendary Super Saiyan (151/?)

Disclaimer: This story features characters and concepts based on Dragon Ball, which is a trademark of Bird Studio/Shueisha and Toei Animation. This is an unauthorized work, and no profit is being made on this work by me. This story is copyright of me. Download if you like, but please don’t archive it without my permission. Don’t be shy.

Continuity Note: This story takes place about 1000 years before 66 years after the events of Dragon Ball Z.

[27 February, Age 850. Toki Toki City.]

"I'll be honest," Trunks said. "I don't know if we can rely on her."

He stood in the kitchen of Chronoa's house, his lavender hair casting a gloomy shadow over his concerned brow. The Vault of Time looked like a fortress in the center of the Time Nest, a daunting structure of grey stone. In sharp contrast, the Supreme Kai of Time lived in a modest Capsule house, with rocket engines and other half-assembled machines scattered all around it. The epicenter of this clutter lay inside the house, where Chronoa maintained a collection of gadgets and nick-nacks. Some were displayed on overcrowded shelves, while others lay in various piles strewn in every room. Trunks had cleared an assortment of vacuum tubes off the stove to brew tea.

"You made the wish," Chronoa said from her sofa. "You asked Shenron for a strong ally, one who could help you defend time itself. And Shenron granted your wish. He sent you Luffa. Do you think the Eternal Dragon made a mistake?"

"The Dragon doesn't make mistakes," Trunks said. "At least, that's what I would have said before today. But now, she's blown a mission, and she's terrified at the thought of trying again. What's worse, we can't afford to send anyone else in her place. The enemy made a big play in that battle with the Ginyu Force, and if we reset the mission we might lose our chance to track them. Oh, and I almost forgot how she got you hurt."

"You're being unfair," Chronoa said. "Healing Luffa's injuries was my call, not hers. You saw how upset she was. I didn't think we could wait to get her to the hospital."

"That doesn't mean I have to like it," Trunks said. "Your healing ability transfers the wounds of others onto yourself. You've used it on me before, and I'm grateful, but... A power like that... Well, it bothers me. I don't know how else to put it."

"It has its uses," Chronoa said. "You can learn a lot about someone by taking on their pain for a little while."

The staff at the Toki Toki hospital had healed the Kai, but her movements were slightly stiff and more careful than usual. Most people wouldn't have noticed, but Trunks could tell. The healers in Toki Toki City were capable of restoring a person to perfect health in a matter of moments, but somehow they never seemed to finish the job properly when it came to the Supreme Kai of Time. He didn't know why that was, or what it meant. So he chose to focus on the kettle and making sure he had the correct burner turned on.

"Are you ready for the water?" Chronoa asked.

Trunks was about to ask what she meant, and then the kettle began to whistle. As he reached out for the handle, he noticed a slight distortion around the kettle's surface. Then he looked back and saw the Kai holding out her hand towards the stove. He had seen her do this before, using her control over the flow of time to speed up or slow down the movements of objects, but he hadn't considered how this could be used to boil water.

"Uh, thanks," Trunks said. "I guess that's one ability I can get used to."

He prepared the cups and brought them to the coffee table next to the sofa. Then he double checked the sofa for any loose circuit boards or cogs. When he was sure the cushion was clear, he sat down beside her.

"You're so sure that Luffa will recover from all of this, and then she'll come back and see this mission through," he said. "I don't suppose you can speed that up the same way you did the kettle."

"Maybe I could," she said with a childish grin, "but I'm in no hurry with her. It's like we always say around here: There's time."

"I know," Trunks said. "I mean, I understand that Toki Toki City sits outside of the normal flow of time, and that it doesn't matter if we send her back to Namek today or a year from now. But we still have to send her back eventually, and until we do, we can't do anything else in the meantime."

"Sure we can!" Chronoa said. "We're having tea, aren't we?"

"I... I'm not gonna win this discussion, am I?" Trunks said with a sigh. "All right, fine. Could you at least share with me why you're not worried about Luffa? Maybe then we could both enjoy our tea."

"Sure!" Chronoa said, "Why didn't you ask sooner?" She set her cup on the table and held up her hands to start counting her fingers as she spoke. "First, I know enough about the Dragon Balls to know they wouldn't let us down. Second, I've learned a thing or two about Saiyans from working with you, Trunks. I don't think she'll give up on this. She's too stubborn. And third... if there's one thing I know about time, it's that it doesn't matter how you start. It's how you finish. Each of those wounds she took tells a story. I'm nothing special when it comes to fighting, but I could tell this much: she was battling harder than her body could handle."

"What do you mean?" Trunks asked. "Are you saying she lost because she overexerted herself?"

"I mean," she said as she picked up her cup to sample the tea, "she's stronger than she's letting on. I don't know if she's sandbagging for some reason, or maybe she doesn't realize what's happening to her. But she's giving it everything she has. More than she has to give, really."

"And that's supposed to make me feel better?" Trunks asked. "What good will it do us if she burns herself out before we get to the bottom of this case?"

"Well, it's a good thing she has you for a partner, then," Chronoa said with a smile. "Besides, I think you need to give Luffa some more credit. She knew better than to dive right back into the mission. I'm sure she's taking some time to rest and recover before she tries again."

"I hope you're right," Trunks said as he sipped his tea.

*******

[3 November, Age 762. Earth.]

Luffa used to be the Legendary Super Saiyan, but she no longer had that extraordinary power. She didn't know why, unless it had something to do with her attempted self-destruction on Planet Nagaoka, or the intervention of Shenron, a mystical dragon who had reached out across time and space to pull her out of that battle and into the ranks of the Time Patrol. Luffa had fully expected to die on Nagaoka, but instead she wound up in the distant future, an era where the Saiyan species was nearly extinct, and the legend of Luffa had been utterly forgotten. With no other prospects, she threw herself into the work of the Time Patrol, until she was traumatized during a mission involving a bodyswap with the villainous Captain Ginyu.

Fear and shame had given way to boredom, and Luffa had decided to try a different activity to take her mind off her troubles. Her roommate had suggested a "Parallel Quest", and she had found a pair of Time Patrollers who offered to show her how they worked. They had planned to handle all the fighting while Luffa sat back and watched, but things had gotten out of hand.

"Luffa... run!" begged Ravi. The enemy had defeated him almost instantly, and Ravi's boyfriend, the Saiyan Mosh, was the next to fall. As Luffa knelt beside Ravi, the enemy floated high above and charged a ki attack in his index finger. Ravi's advice was very sensible.

Except Luffa couldn't run. "I'm stuck!" she told Ravi. "Some kind of psychic hold..."

"I can... reverse it!" Ravi promised. The Earthling held up his hand and offered it to her. "Take my hand, and be ready to move."

Their enemy was another Earthling called Chiaotzu, but he looked nothing like the little person Luffa had encountered in other missions to this era. Chiaotzu was at least four times his original size now, with bulging muscles and a look of unthinking hatred in his eyes. When Ravi saw him, he addressed Chiaotzu as his Master. It followed that Chiaotzu had taught Ravi how to apply this psi-lock, and how to reverse it.

And then, just as Chiaotzu fired his beam, Luffa felt her body slip free of the psychic power, and she leaped out of harm's way. The ground beneath her exploded into a fiery crater, and she alighted onto the top of a butte.

Ravi wasn't pleased with her decision to bring him along for the ride.

"What're you... doing?" he asked. "I'll only slow you down! You gotta... get Mosh out of here!"

"That's exactly what that big goof is counting on," Luffa said, gesturing toward Chiaotzu in the distance. "As soon as I put you down, he'll slap another psychic whammy on me, and I'll be finished. But as long as I keep you close by, you can protect me from those weird powers of his."

"Girl, that won't work!" Ravi protested. "He'll just come in close and pick you off! You can't fight and carry me at the same time!"

"I'm not going to fight him," Luffa said. "Not yet, anyway. I have to save your lover first."

"He...! I...! I mean, we're dating, but we aren't that serious yet!" Ravi stammered.

Luffa might have apologized for the presumption, but Chiaotzu opened fire one again, forcing her to hop from one rock formation to the next to stay clear of his attacks. The hard part came when she reached Mosh's position, and had to carry them both. Their combined weight was no trouble, but the easiest way to handle a Saiyan of Mosh's size was to drag him by his tail, and Luffa felt bad for putting him though such an undignified situation. Luckily, his ordeal was brief, as she made it to their time machine soon after.

"Inside!" Luffa shouted as she kicked open the canopy with her foot and dropped Mosh in. The Saiyan was nearly as tall as the corrupted Chaiotzu, but the time machine was big enough to hold three passengers, so she knew they would fit with room to spare. "You'll be safe in there."

"Luffa wait!" Ravi cried. "We--"

She might have stopped to listen, except Chiaotzu had closed in on her while she was dropping them off. With her arms free, Luffa swatted aside his ki blasts, but then he locked on his psychic hold, and she was immobilized in midair.

"Come on!" she growled, unable to do anything else. "Free shot, if you're brave enough to take it!"

For Chiaotzu's part, it wasn't a matter of bravery, but rather the irrational rage that consumed his thoughts like a brushfire. He charged toward Luffa, and began to pummel her with his massive fists. Luffa had been in a similar pinch while fighting Guldo of the Ginyu Force, but she decided against the strategy she had used before. In that battle, she had push against the psychic lock with her own telepathic abilities. At the time, it had seemed sensible, but she didn't want to become over-reliant on her Saiyan telepathy. She wasn't sure it would be available the next time she faced Guldo...

The next time... while she was trapped in...

... in Captain Ginyu's body...

As Chiaotzu worked her over, the realization hit her that much harder. Despite her fears, without really being aware of it, she had already made up her mind to go back and try again. She had come to this "parallel quest" in an effort to distract herself from the Ginyu mission, but in her heart of hearts, she was still fighting that last battle, even as she fought a new one against this mutated Chiaotzu.

There was something terrific and horrifying about this. It was as though her Saiyan heart would push her forward no matter badly she wanted to give up. Saving Ravi and Mosh had almost been second nature to her. Less than an hour ago, Luffa had been curled up in a fetal position in the shower.

And then, at last, the answer came to her. If Chiaotzu wanted her to hold still so badly, then she would oblige him. Instead of using her power to try to break free, she concentrated her energy inwards, using every last bit of it to fix herself to that spot. She clenched her teeth as she waited for the next blow, and when it came...

There was a loud 'clang', and Chiaotzu reeled with pain as he clutched his fist. Thanks to her ki, Luffa's body had no give to it whatsoever. She had been unhurt, while Chiaotzu's aching knuckles left him in too much pain to maintain his hold on her.

"That trick won't work on me anymore," she snarled. "Get that through your thick skull. You'll have to try something else if you want to defeat me.

He glared at her with those wide, enigmatic eyes, then said only one word: "Corn..."

"What?"

Then he rushed towards her, throwing punches and kicks with incredible speed. "Coooooorrrrrrn!" Chiaotzu wailed, seemingly for no reason.

"My name's Luffa, not Corn, you idiot!" she screamed. Fast as he was, she managed to weather the assault and responded with an explosive wave. It wasn't enough to defeat him, but it did give her some breathing room.

She pressed the attack, and danced around him, shifting left and right through the air to catch him off balance. But whenever she went in to strike, he was always ready to block.

"Hold on... You're good," Luffa said. "But not this good. What are you trying now...?"

(Luffa, he's reading your mind!)

She suddenly heard Ravi's voice in her own thoughts, and she glanced back at the time machine to make certain he and Mosh were still inside. Chiaotzu capitalized on this by kicking Luffa in the head. The blow sent her down to the ground, hard enough to shatter a nearby hillside, but not enough to defeat her.

"Oh, is that right?" Luffa grumbled after coughing up some dust. "I should have figured that out sooner."

(In my native era, Chiaotzu was an old man,) Ravi explained. (I didn't have much going for me, but he took me in. I was stealing food from his farm, and he invited me to join his dojo. He offered me a chance to become a warrior. This... this isn't how he's supposed to be!)

"I know that," Luffa said as she dodged another Dodonpa. "He's been corrupted by the same evil magic as the others. In this time fragment, the enemy must have used their power on him instead of Vegeta. Or... hell, I don't know."

"Nine...!" Chiaotzu groaned. "Minus... One!"

Luffa threw a punch, expecting him to block and counter. She fully intended to reverse his counter, but instead she was surprised to see her punch connected this time. It wasn't enough to stop Chiaotzu, but it did stagger him.

"Well now..." Luffa said with a grin, "maybe you're not as tough as I thought." She tried to follow through with a roundhouse kick, but Chiaotzu blocked this one and caught her in a throw. Before she could escape, Chiaotzu caught her with another psychic hold, and she was helpless to stop herself from being hurled into a cliffside.

"Left! Right!" Chiaotzu screamed. "Right, right, right! Left!"

Luffa took her frustration out on the rubble that surrounded her, blasting it all away until she was standing in the center of a crater. "I've had enough of your riddles!" she shouted back. "Do your worst. I won't back down until--"

"Disappear!" Chiaotzu said in a dreary monotone. And then he did disappear. Or at least, it seemed like he had. Faster than Luffa's eyes could follow, Chiaotzu suddenly appeared behind her, and caught her in a full nelson. With his immense size and power, the pain of the hold was incredible.

"Dis... a... peeeear....!" Chiaotzu said as Luffa grunted and struggled to break free. "Wish..."

"Shut up!" Luffa shouted. "You'll wish you were dead when I'm finished with you!"

But for all her bluster, Chiaotzu's psychic effect was making it difficult for her to escape the hold. Luffa considered herself an expert on such things. Joint locks were one of her specialties, and every hold she knew was accompanied by the way to escape. But these all depended on being able to control herself, and her body just wasn't responsive enough.

(Luffa, that's it!) She heard Ravi in her mind again. (He wants you to beat him!)

"Oh he does, does he? Well... he's got... got a funny way of showing it," Luffa snarled.

(Listen to me! When I was younger, he told me the story of King Piccolo. The Demon King gathered the Dragon Balls to wish for his youth, but Tien Shinhan told Chiaotzu to stop Piccolo by trying to make a wish first! 'Wish for King Piccolo to disappear!' that was what Chiaotzu tried to say, but Piccolo killed him before he could get it out!)

"Left, right, left right!" Chiaotzu droned on. Suddenly, Luffa felt herself moving forward. Chiaotzu's hold was as tight as ever, but he was floating forward, sliding across the air like a stone sliding over ice. He drove Luffa into a mesa. Then another, then another. Each time, the stone broke apart on Luffa's face like a punch from an angry giant.

(He wants you to kill him! To beat him) Ravi said. (That's his wish!)

"And how--ow! Does he expect me to do that?! Ow! Dammit!"

"Nine! Minus! One!" Chiaotzu wailed.

(That's it!) Ravi said. (When he fought Krillin in the World Martial Arts Tournament! Master Chiaotzu was always bad at math. Krillin beat him by calling out arithmetic problems, and he'd get so flustered trying to solve them that he'd leave himself wide open!)

"Fine!" Luffa muttered. "Hey, Chiaotzu! What's the square root of twelve?!"

She tried to kick at his thighs, hoping that she could cramp up his quadriceps muscle enough to make him loosen the full nelson, but instead Chiaotzu's psychic attack intensified, and she could barely move her leg enough to tap him with her heel.

"It didn't work!" she shouted, just as Chiaotzu drove her face first into another butte.

(That's because it was too hard!) Ravi said.

"Well, is he bad at math or not?!" Luffa demanded.

(Whoa, easy now. Easy,) Ravi said. (We're on the same side here!)

Luffa knew this on a factual level, but she was getting sick of Ravi's voice in her head, almost as much as she was sick of Chiaotzu's power locking up her muscles.

"What's six plus two, Chiaotzu?!" she shouted, desperate to get this over with. She almost hoped it wouldn't work, if only to disprove Ravi's suggestion. And yet...

"Uh... uhhhh..." Chiaotzu grumbled, and Luffa could feel her toes again, and a slight relief in her shoulders as his grip slackened.

"Hah!" Luffa said as she twisted her arms and slid free of Chiaotzu's hold. She withdrew to a safe distance, then opened fire with a volley of ki blasts. She expected Chiaotzu to avoid or deflect them, but they were nothing more than a diversion anyway.

"On your left!" Luffa shouted as she rushed headlong at him. Sure enough, Chiaotzu turned, expecting her to attack him on that side. She swerved at the last possible instant and blindsided him on his right.

"Ino...Shiko...Cho..." Chiaotzu moaned.

"Two minus three," Luffa said. It was almost disturbing how easy this was becoming. She hesitated a moment before trying a kick to Chiaotzu's abdomen, and yet she still managed to land the blow, and the elbow smash between his shoulders after that.

"What's 'InoShikoCho'?" Luffa asked aloud, hoping that Ravi was still listening.

(It's what he called one of our practice drills back at the dojo,) Ravi said. (Only... I don't know what that has to do with anything.)

"Don't worry," Luffa said. "I'll try and find out for myself--" As she spoke, Chiaotzu lumbered towards her, and she ducked under his massive hands and grabbed hold of his face. She hadn't tried a telepathic reading in a long time, but in her last Time Patrol mission, she had seen the Saiyan Son Goku use it on Krillin, which led her to suspect that she had recovered enough of her former strength to do the same. The Saiyans had a peculiar range of psychic talents, but before Luffa could reminisce on this, the images came flooding into her mind.

His name was Chiaotzu, and long ago he had trained under the Crane Hermit, a master whose skill was matched only by his cruelty and bitterness. The Old Crane School taught the ways of treachery and deception. Among these lessons was the InoShikoCho, a beast with the body of a boar and the antlers of a stag and the wings of a butterfly. To raise money during their training journeys, Chiaotzu and Tien Shinhan would use the InoShikoCho to grift small, isolated villages. The Crane Hermit had adopted it as a pet and trained it well, but it could pretend to be a wild animal when needed, and Tien and Chiaotzu would unleash it in villages, then offer to "capture" the beast... for a price. After pretending to subdue the InoShikoCho, and collecting their reward, they would move on to the next village and repeat the process.

But one day, Son Goku intervened. Stumbling upon the three of them sharing a meal between villages, he learned of their trickery, and when he tried to expose them, Tien was forced to betray the InoShikoCho to cover his tracks. After that, Tien and Chiaotzu knew that the creature would never trust them again. Eventually, Chiaotzu felt a similar grief when Tien defied the Crane Hermit, and Chiaotzu had to choose a side. The Crane Hermit swore he would have revenge, and when he returned, it was with his brother, the assassin Tao Pai-Pai, who beat Chiaotzu so badly at the World Martial Arts Tournament that he had to be carried out on a stretcher.

And this was what ran through Chiaotzu's mind now while he fought Luffa. Beneath the mindless rampage forced upon him by the dark magic, there was an undercurrent of sadness and regret and longing to be done with betrayal. As Ravi had said, in this moment, Chiaotzu wished for nothing more than to be made to disappear.

The depths of this despair shocked Luffa, so much so that when she snapped out of her mental link, Chiaotzu was able to knock her back with a well-placed chop to her neck. It was not enough to defeat her. Luffa knew that it would never be. For in spite of the increase in power the dark magic gave Chiaotzu, he was still holding back. The Earthling had that much willpower, at least.

"I see," Luffa said to him. "So this is the resolve of you Earthlings, then. Even in this sorry state, you keep fighting to resist this power that's come over you. It's impressive. Four minus three."

She dodged his next offensive and went around him, catching him in a belly-to-back suplex. This wasn't enough to stop him, but she was no longer trying to defeat him. Now that she understood how to beat him, she could secure victory at her leisure. Until then, she simply used her attacks to buy enough time to say her peace.

"I might not look it," she said, "but I used to be somebody important, a long time ago. Left left right." Chiaotzu fired the Dodonpa again, but she grabbed his arm and spoiled his aim, then swung around and brought her knee into his face.

"I'm not telling you this to brag. I'm not much of anyone now, not anymore. But I'm telling you this because I want you to know that I'm someone who impressed a lot of people, and you've impressed me today. Not sure if you can understand what I'm saying, but I needed to get it off my chest, okay? Your students, your memories, your pride, everything you are keeps fighting, even after your mind and body have been corrupted like this. It's... comforting. Twelve plus six. Galick Gun."

Now she was ready to defeat him. The Galick Gun she fired came quickly, with as little warning as she could give. That made it weaker than it could have been, but Ravi's prediction was true: Chiaotzu was so distracted by the numbers that he was virtually defenseless. Even a weak Galick Gun would be enough to knock him out. She intensified the power anyway, once she was certain he was too overwhelmed to stop it.

"I see what I have to do now!" she shouted. And then with a savage cry, she chased after Chiaotzu, and leaped down beside him where he fell.

"You've shown me the way," she said in a low voice as she checked to make certain he was beaten. The dark energy dissipated, and his body began to shrink to its normal size. "I'm in your debt, Earthman. I guess I should cook something tasty for your student Ravi, who honors your teachings."

Satisfied that the immediate danger was over, Luffa gathered Chiaotzu in her arms, and went back to the time machine to collect Ravi and Mosh.

*******

[28 February Age 850. Toki Toki City.]

"That should hold, for now anyway."

In the Time Vault, Trunks and the Supreme Kai of Time stood before the large table at the center of the atrium. She had just finished performing a supernatural treatment on a section of parchment from the Scroll of Eternity. Trunks did not even pretend to understand how it worked, but she said it would help, and that was good enough for him.

"Let's hope it lasts," Trunks said. "I've checked for signs of enemy activity. Nothing so far, but I can't believe they'll stay quiet for long. If they strike again... I don't suppose you can contain the ripples from two time anomalies, can you?"

The Kai looked up at him with a confident smirk. "Hey, I can do a lot of things, you know?" This made him feel a little better, but there was still a hint of worry in her eyes that kept him from smiling.

"At least we know if they strike somewhere else, we can send other Time Patrollers to deal with that," Trunks said. He gestured at the scroll on the table, which still roiled with purple energy. "But we can't resolve this current anomaly without Luffa, and there's no telling how long that could take."

"She'll be back," Chronoa said. "And we'll manage until she's ready."

He was about to reply, when suddenly a third voice called out.

"Trunks!"

He had already turned to face the entryway before he heard the voice. His ki senses had told him who it was, but he was still surprised nonetheless. Luffa marched up to the table with purpose and laid a casserole dish on the table with a loud thud.

"Luffa! Y-you're back?" Trunks asked.

"I would have gotten here sooner, but I wanted to make sure Chiaotzu was okay, only they told me I couldn't bring him back to the city. Parallel Quest stuff. It's over my head."

"You went on a Parallel Quest?" Trunks asked. "We thought you were resting..."

"After that," Luffa went on, "I made pasta for Ravi and Mosh. Took me a while, but I'm pleased with how it turned out. I made too much, and this is what wouldn't fit in the refrigerator. You like lasagna, Trunks?"

"Uh, sure," he said.

She stared at him, as though suspicious of his answer. "Good. Help yourself." She then looked at the Kai and added. "You too, Chronoa, if gods eat this sort of thing. Oh, you know what? I didn't bring any plates."

"I've got some in my house," Chronoa said. "We'll manage, but we really need to talk about how we're going to handle this scroll..."

"We already did talk about that, remember?" Luffa said. "And it's pretty simple. I'm the only one who can finish the mission, because of how I got bodyswapped with Captain Ginyu, right? So I'm going back in there, right now, and I'm going to finish it."

"Hold on," Trunks said. "You were in pretty rough shape a few hours ago. Are you sure you're feeling up to this?"

"I've got it all figured out this time," Luffa said. "Trust me."

She didn't even look at Trunks as she spoke, but instead leaned in and took the scroll before anyone could stop her. And as she vanished into the past, Trunks saw a sadistic grin on her face.

He wasn't sure if that was a good thing or not.

NEXT: The Bluff.

#dragon ball #lssjluffafic #luffa #trunks #chronoa #ravi #mosh #chiaotzu #toki toki city

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fyexo · 4 years ago

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200819 How Lay Zhang Claimed The Throne of M-pop

“’Lit’ continues to explore chasing your dream. This time it’s about more personal things in my life. Like hometown, family and self-doubt.” Photo: Courtesy of Zhang Yixing Studio

“I don’t think people can ever understand an artist completely. But they can relate to many things. I think that is a challenge for an artist to see how they can use their music to connect with people. It is a worthy challenge.” Photo: Courtesy of Zhang Yixing Studio

Lit is the first part of a series of EPs which will make a whole LP—why did you want to release it in this format and when did you begin working on the record?

How do you hope that the artist you are today crafts the Lay Zhang of tomorrow?

I always believe in working hard and improving. I hope that the Lay Zhang of tomorrow continues to keep looking for ways to improve his art. I hope he never gives up his dreams.

“I want to keep growing as an artist. But also I want to let my fans know that I am reading their comments and I see everything they say.” Photo: Courtesy of Zhang Yixing Studio

Why do fans need to see themselves in an artist? Does it work the same on the other side, do you as an artist see yourself in your fans?

I am busy filming a TV drama and a few reality TV shows for the rest of 2020. A very busy schedule.

Riddhi Chakraborty @ Rolling Stone India

#exo #lay #t: interview #album: lit

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peoplelikegames · 4 years ago

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Steam Games Festival: I played so many demos. My thoughts...

I spent a few days playing as many of these demos as I could and wrote down some rough impressions.

Black Book (Morteshka): Heavily atmospheric and steeped in Slavic mythology. You play as a Slavic woman named Vasilisa, attempting to bring back her husband, who has committed suicide, back from hell in an effort to save him from the eternal damnation that their religion believes befell those who commit suicide. She becomes a witch after venturing through the gates of hell and back. The gameplay takes several different forms, depending on what you’re doing. It’s got some point-and-click adventure game elements during the more exploration focused scenes. Sometimes you’ll find herbs that can be used as items later during combat. The combat plays out like Slay the Spire and other deck builder games of the ilk, with the key exception of the spell slots. Instead of the standard 3 energy system restricting card usage each turn, here you have 3 slots that can be filled with spells that correspond with the slot type. You have 2 Order slots (big spells) and 1 Key slot (little spells) you can fill each turn. It’s a small twist to the formula that opens up a lot of interesting possibilities and combinations. In between fights and the point-and-click scenes you’ll get to interact with people you meet along the path to your destination and make choices that effect the story and your character. Vasalisa’s journey looks bleak and full of death, and I’m interested to see where it goes.

AK-Xolotl (Daniel Piqueras Constantin): Fast paced, adorable and aggressive top down shooter. Very simple gameplay of shooting down waves of enemies picking up weapons and items that drop when they die. Feels great to play. Good movement, good dash, not much else to ask for. Really quick and snappy shooting and simple gameplay loop me keeps playing again and again just to get a higher score and see what new stuff it has to throw at me. It’s got really cute pixelated graphics and lots of forest critters with guns. The game also features an absolutely filthy death metal track that’s a perfect representation of how aggressive the game really is. Just a really quick and dirty time that definitely makes me want to see the finished product. Also, I love the lil axolotl guy.

Despot’s Game (Konfa Games): Rogue-like dungeon crawler where you control a mob of humans. It’s a pretty cool and complicated battle system my only problem is I can’t help but feel like I don’t have enough control on the outcome of the fights. It’s almost a little like Totally Accurate Battle Simulator in that way. Basically, your run begins with you purchasing a bunch of little humans and different weapons to give to those little humans which will give them a class. Give a little guy a medkit and now he’s a healer, give someone a gun and they’re a shooter now. Humans with classes have special abilities they can activate when there are enough classes of that type on the field. Like an Auto Chess (Auto Battler?) game, if you have, say, 2 or 3 Fencers on the board, your fencers will now have access to their special ability, a dodge roll. Position your people in what you hope is a tactical formation and start heading for the dungeon exit. Most rooms consist of a fight, which plays out automatically. When you press go on a fight, your troops and the enemies will all start fighting until only one side remains. This is where the game loses me a little bit as it’s unclear how much of a difference positioning makes or what more I should be doing to change the outcome. Did I win this time because that unit was farther up than last time, or did the AI just play it out slightly differently that skewed in my favor? I can’t tell if the changes I’m making are actually making a tactical difference, or if the AI routines are just clashing with slightly varying results each time. You’re gonna lose units a lot but they are pretty disposable, with frequent shops for buying reinforcements or new gear. And every unit contributes to your mob’s total hunger meter, which deplete with every new room you enter. You have to buy food to feed your troops to keep them from losing effectiveness. Bigger team=greater food consumption. Gotta find a balance with your money and spending it on new units, new weapons, and food. I really wanted to like this game more because I really dig the hook of building up a mob of little guys with cools powers and I like the unit synergy system as well, but the perceived lack of control over how the fights play out and the game’s edgy humor ultimately pushed me away.

Dead Estate (Milkbar Lads): Fairly generic zombie shooter rogue-like (there’s gonna be a lot of rogue-likes). Your standard twin-stick kind of shooting you’d find in the Binding of Isaac or Enter the Gungeon, except here you can jump, adding some verticality. Explore each room, kill the zombies, find the key and then find the elevator to the next floor. Sometimes you find a new gun or shop along the way. The movement feels pretty slow and the rooms feel small. Too many times would I walk into a room, fight three of the same zombie then walk int next room just to see two more of that same zombie. Too many times did I have to walk back across a whole level at a snail’s pace. Needs more enemy variety and to move a little quicker. The shooting is a little better, I like how the game makes its weapons feel distinct by how much it kick it has. More powerful weapons will push you back with each shot. Unloading the mini gun felt chaotic and rumbly that make you slide back and wiggle in a fun way. You can usually kill most enemies before they’re even able to do anything makes them unique, rendering most enemies the same “zombie that walk towards you for second before you finish them off.” Didn’t really draw me in or entice me to see what I might encounter on higher floors.

Foregone (big blue studio): This one feels a little like a watered down Dead Cells at first, AT FIRST. It’s a little slower and less snappy but it’s still very fun. Plus it’s more of a linear 2d action platformer with lots of loot. I like the loot aspect here quite a bit; watching a bunch of currency fly out of enemies is satisfying in a “headshot kill in Destiny kinda way.” Just a bunch of fun particles and a frequent gear drop that has you constantly popping open your inventory to equip your new gear and make those numbers go up. If that’s your kind of fun, you can definitely find it here. Lots of weapon variety on show here and most, if not all, of them feel unique. Just wish the combat was little tighter, which since this is a demo, I assume will come in due time. The game could also do a better job of informing the player that they’re taking damage, which made it difficult to hone the timing on the dash to avoid taking damage. And I’m hoping the environments of the full game become a little more diverse and sprawling, right now it feels like it’s mostly individual rooms/levels of engagement at a time. Excited to see how the full release pans out.

Tunche (LEAP Game Studios): Immediately drawn in here by the beautiful hand drawn art style. It’s a brawler roguelike and if you know what those two words mean in the context of video games, that’s all you really need to know. The brawler combat is what it is, very combo and juggle heavy, enemies that take dozens of hits to kill, fairly bland and just flat land environments. Walk forward until you’re stopped, fight a bunch of waves of enemies, rinse and repeat. Except this time you occasionally get upgrades after finishing rooms like “chance for attacks to cause burn” and “chance to regain health on hit,” your standard rougelike fare. With the territory comes the roguelike difficulty, and this game is plenty tough with the amount of enemies it throws at you and how limited your health pool can be. All of the art and the animations are what really shine here, and if you’re into that brawler style combat, this seems like a pretty good one of those.

Power of Ten (Pew Times Three): Next up we have a top-down space shooter roguelike. I like the minimalistic pixel art style in this one. It helps with atmosphere and you making you feel like a small ship in a large system. Your goal is to power planetary shields on inhabited planets throughout the system by gathering resources from asteroids. While you’re hunting asteroids, pirate ships will randomly attack a planet, pulling you away from resource gathering into a space dogfight against the pirates. That push and pull of gathering resources to fuel a planets shields while simultaneously protecting the planets whose shields are not yet charged is the core loop here that I really like. Conveying solid, core gameplay loop that’s engaging is exactly what you want to get across in a demo, and they definitely deliver that here.

Jelly is Sticky (Lunarch Studios): A lovely, casual sokoban puzzle game. Sliding around and rearranging cubes of jelly into oblong structures to match highlighted areas within a given space. You’ll encounter jellies of different qualities along the way, all with their own quirks around how they like to stick. I really like the non-linear structure in the over world, letting you navigate around between levels from all of the jelly-archetypes at any time. Solving sets of levels will unlock jelly in the over world you can stick to and rearrange to give you access to further levels gated behind walls and other triggers. It’s an appreciated extra layer of depth you don’t expect from a puzzle game that could have very well presented it’s levels in an ordered, level-select screen.

Potion Craft (niceplay games): In this game you play as a budding alchemist trying to make your mark on the world in your newly acquired (stolen possibly?) alchemy shop. Its an alchemist simulator. It’s presented in an “alchemy text book diagram-style” that’s immediately endearing. Every day, you collect ingredients like herbs and fungi from your garden and then it’s time to open shop. Customers come and share their plight, asking for potions of different types. They’ll offer different prices for potions of different potency which you haggle up further (or lower, if you mess up) through a simple timing mini game. The actually potion making is puzzling and unique, if not occasionally limiting. Ingredients you add to the cauldron determine a path that the potion icon in the center will follow across a fog covered map. Add more ingredients to add length and direction to the path, trying to build the path in a specific way that will lead to a “?” destination marked on the map. Name the potion, choose a bottle and label, and brew it. You’ll learn what it does, and can save the recipe for easy use again later. The only downside is how limited the ingredients are makes it very punishing when experimentation results in failure, all those ingredients are just lost. It seems like the game really wants you to just fill the orders at hand instead of blindly exploring into the fog to see what weird stuff comes up, which is my favorite thing to do so far. This is still easily one of my favorite demos of the bunch and has to be seen for oneself.

Aeon Drive Prologue (2awesome studio): This is definitely one of the ones I wanted to like more than I did. A self proclaimed “speedrun action platformer” and it demands that go fast. Very short 2d platformer levels with an ever ticking clock. If the timer reaches zero before you reach the exit, you fail the level. Consumables lined throughout the level can be used to add more time to your clock. This game is very punishing, one hit from anything, from enemy to stage hazard, will cause you to fail and restart. Very quick movement and a focus on chaining together different moves to find different paths through the level. There seemed to be benefits like special collectibles for taking more inventive, alternative paths, but the ticking clock really kept me tunnel-visioned on the most clear cut route through the level, meaning I only ever small a very tiny portion of each one. I’m not the type of person to butt my head against how to pull some crazy route as opposed to the clearly laid out one in front of me. Unfortunately, that clearly laid path just isn’t very fun to take. There’s also a dagger you can throw and teleport to, which I found difficult to aim and not as fun to use as it sounds. There is definitely something here, it’s just ultimately not for me.

Medievalien (dOOb games srl): Action RPG roguelike in a medieval world that has been invaded by aliens. You play an amnesiac protagonist trying to undo the calamity through repeated attempts from within a magical (or scientific?) time loop. Commence genre mashup. Nothing particularly stands out here. Two weapon slots and two throwables slots, lots of different items to fill them. Your weapons consist of bows, crossbows, and staves, and the throwables are bombs of varying elemental effect. It’s fun to play but fairly middling. The low poly art style doesn’t do anything for me and the soundtrack was forgettable. Still, if you’re like me and enjoy ARPGs and roguelike, it does the thing well enough to scratch the itch.

Minute of Islands (Studio Fizbin): Right out of the gate this 2d narrative platformer hits you with gorgeous hand-drawn art. A poisoned, decaying world that is beautifully drawn and animated. I’m gonna day this is not the best demo. The pace is very slow and the objectives are linear and don’t even register as puzzles. This game calls itself a puzzle platformer yet there were no puzzles to be found in this demo. I’m assuming the demo is trying to preserve story details so it starts at the beginning and only gives you a small slice from there. So maybe the game introduces more puzzle elements later in the game. But what’s left in the demo is not very compelling to play. The impressively detailed environments and atmosphere are only driving forces so far. But extremely strong forces at that.

Alekon (The Alekon Company): This feels like spiritual follow up to Pokemon Snap in all of the best ways. In its most basic form, the game plays exactly like Pokémon Snap, but builds on the nearly 30 year old classic in several key ways. Creatures in this game are called “Fictions” and whenever you take a picture of a new fiction, the creature also appears back in the game’s hub world. Once back in the hub world, you can talk to the fictions who have moved in and they’ll give you small quests to do that’ll usually reward you with key game features, like a zoom function for the camera. There’s a great feature that involves capturing photos of a fiction in all of its potential poses, which will unlock the ability to “see through the eyes of the fiction.” So when you’re looking through the album of your saved pictures, you can apply a fiction filter to see the image as a particular fiction would see if through their own eyes. Also, once you’ve unlocked all of the different routes in a specific biome, you gain the ability to “wander.” Wandering is free from the rails of the standard routes and allows to explore every inch of the biome and find other fictions that were previously hidden. It’s also a great space to snag that perfect picture of a fiction you couldn’t get while riding the rails. The creatures themselves are kind of hit or miss so far in their design. Sometimes it’s literally just a seal, sometimes it’s a ridiculous alien thing, but it seems like the personalities of the fictions are what makes them unique. Even though I didn’t care for the designs, I found myself endeared toward the creatures once I found them back in the hub and helped them with their troubles. There’s some good writing in these bits that really helps sell me on these creatures. Lots to love here if you’re into games about snapping pics of critters and throwing donuts.

Eat’n Eaten (Gaëtan Benoit): A cartoony tower defense game with bug plants. Bugs that grow from plants. It has a really fun and easy to understand “food chain management” system for building up units. It almost feels like it was designed to translate easily to touchscreens for mobile devices. Your soil has 100% nutrients, plants grow and feed off nutrients, plants grow apples which you can pick who will then become your units. When an apple dies it’s corpse returns nutrients to the soil and it’ll drop a seed that will grow into a new plant. If you don’t pick the apples off the plant long enough for them to consume extra nutrients, the apples will become a caterpillar. Pick the caterpillar off the plant and now you have a more offensive unit, who needs to eat apples to survive. The game only builds on the loop from there; the way bugs will level up into new or stronger forms after eating enough fruit, or how the game will add spiders to your team who will then need to eat caterpillars to survive. Manage this whole food chain to keep a steady supply and distribution of units against waves of enemies. I don’t know if that seems confusing when put into word like that but it’s really quick and simple to pick up they way it is presented. It can definitely get a little frantic at times but that’s when the game is at it’s most fun.

Dorfromantik (Toukana Interactive): Chill, colorful, tile placement puzzle game about building a village landscape. You start with a deck of 85 hexagonal tiles, and it doesn’t end until all the tiles have been placed. You’re placing tiles with the intent to line up as many like edges between adjacent tiles, making longer and longer networks of landscapes of matching type. The way the scoring works and how the game conforms matching sides together does a good job of making the best place to put your tile one that not only scores well but also looks good in the context of the interconnected village landscape you are ultimately trying to craft. I would kill for this game on Switch.

Unsouled (Megusta Game): An isometric pixelates dark souls-style action game. Described as an “ultra-brutal” game with “fast-paced and savagely rewarding combat,” Unsouled comes exactly as advertised. The combat in this game is very difficult and I am simply not the person to conquer it. It’s really fast paced yet proper movement and combat requires consistent timing and punished button mashing. Every thing you do has to be deliberate and calculated as it’s easy to lose control of the battlefield very quickly. Even just a few enemies can be dangerous as they all can dodge and block and roll just like you. The game is unafraid to put the pressure on and throw ten enemies at you all at once engaging from different ranges. The game demands that intimately learn the combat systems if you want to keep your stamina and health high in the heat of combat. I’d bet that if you’re a fan of Dark Souls or souls-like games, this game has all that difficulty but a different pace of combat that doesn’t feel derivative.

Rogue Invader (Squishy Games): Immediately I love the look of this game. It’s got this old school 1-bit black and white look to it. It also opens up with a fully animated and voice acted cutscene. The game is actually pretty difficult. It’s a side scrolling shooter where you’re part of an army in invading an alien planet one soldier at a time. You’re also managing weapon heat and breakage, and carry weight effecting run speed. Each soldier gets body armor and a pistol but you can equip them with a rifle and helmet from your armory. Which you’ll definitely want to do considering you die in one shot if hit in the head. When you’re soldier dies, they lose the gear you equipped them with and the new soldier needs to be equipped with whatever you can craft in the forge. This is where I ran into issues with hardy ever having enough materials to craft a helmet, go into a mission and die early to a single stray bullet to the head, and subsequently not earn enough materials to make a helmet. The evasive controls like jumping, running, rolling and taking cover all felt clunky in my hands, add that to fact that bullets often just miss even if you’re aiming right on an enemy, and it made for a pretty unsatisfying game to play.

Devastator (Radiangames): How is this not just Geometry Wars? Because this shit is just geometry wars. Fortunately, Geometry Wars slaps so this game is still pretty fun. But just go play Geometry Wars. There, I mentioned a different game like five times more than the game this was supposed to be about.

ANVIL (Action Square): Co-op top down shooter roguelike with space marines. It’s like a run-based Starship Troopers game. It’s pretty great. The three characters unlocked in the demo all have different weapons and abilities resulting in very distinct play styles between classes. There’s a fairly simple loop to each floor: search the floor for the boss, along the way areas will be filled with enemies, who’ll drop money, which can be used to buy passive upgrades from chests found throughout the floor. The upgrade system allows you stack multiple of the same upgrade for increased effect. Lots of variety in the enemy type really keeps you on your toes. Unsurprisingly, it just feels good to mow down mobs of space bugs.

Orbital Bullet (SmokeStab): A 360 degree shooter platformer. It’s a really cool gimmick actually, you move in 2d but in ring around a 3D space. It’s makes for some cool looking environments and depth from having inner and outer rings you can switch between. Really fast and arcade-y feeling. Snappy movement and gunplay. There’s seems to be a lot offered here among different weapons, in-run upgrades and meta upgrades that persist between runs. Which makes this a roguelite, as opposed to roguelike, which I tend to prefer. I like having something upgrade outside of my runs to make me feel stronger or different going into the next run. The games has a sort of ancient alien aesthetic, it feels industrial and monolithic. The bursts of neon in the walls, enemies, and weapons really pop among the ruins of the stone temple. Watching your weapons’ shot glide along the curve of the world is an effective visual as well. Just because I clearly like to compare to games so much, this game feels a lot like Resogun meets Downwell, and that’s just fantastic.

Chicory: A Colorful Tale (Greg Lobanov): A colorful and cartoony adventure game about painting that takes a small but welcomed bullet hell turn. You play as a cute little pup that claims the power of The Brush after it’s wielder (and your master) disappears along with all of the color in the world. Searching for cause and hopefully the solution, you embark on a journey to repaint the world and make your mark as the new wielder. Once you pick up that brush you can start coloring in literally everything in the world. It’s fun and charming the whole way through. You can help the townsfolk bring color back into the lives and color in their houses to their satisfaction. Use the paint to navigate the world by growing and shrinking plants by erasing/coloring them. The demo is a little thin but definitely makes me interested to see what fun stuff the game has in store for these paint mechanics.

Genesis Noir (Feral Cat Den): Okay this game was a trip. I barely have any idea what I just played but I know I really liked what was happening. It’s a heavily stylized point and click adventure game where it feels like you exist within an improvisational Jazz album. Train tracks becoming notes on a cello. Getting into a cosmic jazz-off that plays like a game of Simon and ends with your opponent on the wrong end of a mob hit. I think? Honestly this game is so trippy it was difficult to keep track of what was going on. And occasionally it was a little ambiguous as to how you’re supposed to proceed, which lead some random click and dragging around the screen until something clicks. It actually seems like it could turn out to be a really good example of a story and experience that can really only be through video games. Not quite an animated film, not quite a comic book or visual novel, but instead a fantastical, interactive amalgamation of many things. Whatever this thing may be defined as, it’s something unique and special.

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anxiouslyfred · 5 years ago

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Love After Exile - Begin to Ask

Okay this fic was and has returned to being my passion project alongside one other, main reason you get this is because it gets typed up first draft while the other is in a notebook.

*Edit* This story has reached it’s conclusion in Part 9. all parts linked at the end

Summary: Virgil loved Remus and Deceit long before they fell out. Now he’s dating Logan after beginning to recognise similar feelings. It doesn’t help him much that the hidden sides are coming around more often and he still loves them

Formatting: There’s a shifting POV, anytime you see Bold starts of a paragraph then there’s been a perspective shift. I try to keep the person you’re now reading the view of mentioned in that first line

Pairings: Analogical from the start, eventual Analoceitmus though that’ll take a few parts

Warnings For this part: abandonment, Deceit, Remus,

Virgil had been kicked out by the two people he knew he loved and it hurt. It felt like he was being stabbed by his emotions sometimes.

Deceit and Remus had rejected him, insisted he was getting too light when everyday he had been trying to admit his feelings towards them. In fact that even fed into them kicking him out. Deceit could tell when he told lies, when his words weren't fully honest and apparently when he was just refusing to mention something important to them, and his emotions, his anxieties over telling them about them, had become big enough that Deceit began asking what was on his mind, asking him to just say what he was refusing to.

Then he took too long to say and came the last day he lived with the Dark Sides, protected by Deceit. They gave him the choice or tried to, either he could at least come clean over whatever he was hiding or he could leave. Virgil tried, he tried so hard that day to actually speak the words but among them Love was a word that was never uttered, emotions either had visible or physical outlets or they were pushed past, moved over. He had no clue how to even begin speaking about romance and love without being told he was just copying Morality or Princey and that forced him to leave. They waited on him to make the choice, watching his mouth open multiple times, as tears began falling down his cheeks but eventually he just nodded and walked away to find somewhere else to live in Thomas's mind space.

Neither of them expected to find him among the Light Sides when they started making themselves known to Thomas, nor did they expect him to be wrapped around Logic the first time they showed up unannounced outside of a video.

Deceit mentioned then that if he ever wanted to say what he hid they'd be all ears but Virgil had buried himself into Logan in response. He wanted to insist it was history, yell and tell them that it might have meant something once but not any more, not now he had Logan who understood him and struggled to find his own way of describing supposedly good emotions too, but that would have been a lie too.

Logan knew everything though. When Roman insisted they had feelings for each other and somehow locked them in Logan's room without his agreement everything came out. All of Virgil's fears, worries, and anxieties over how he can't say things because he'd just be mimicking the others, how he had tried before but been unable to and he actually had just left his room floating in the mind space that wasn't run by either group of Sides and everything about Remus and Deceit that crossed his mind. None of his words were eloquent but Logan had treasured being the one told them, especially when it had ended with his confusion over Logan himself, knowing he was getting feelings towards him that seemed similar to the ones he still held for the others but even more scared now because Roman had called it out, he knew another side could tell if he had romantic feelings now.

When Virgil curled into him more tightly, Logan observed, and raised an eyebrow at the concern and sudden raised weapon in Remus's hand. He watched Deceit smirk and could tell that at least some of the reaction was faked. Most importantly he saw Roman freeze, eyes shooting to Virgil just beyond where the pair could see and understanding dawn on his face as his focus turned to the sides he had titled Dark.

“If neither of you understand Virgil after living with him for so many years then I cannot believe he should tell you anything he doesn't want to.” Logan's words had the focus on him now and the man in his lap relaxing ever so slightly. “Please remove yourselves for any further discussions however. I would prefer not to have my partner in distress, nor any blood on the carpet depending on who is harmed with that weapon, Duke.”

The pair actually leaving at his suggestion was mildly surprising but at least his stare at Roman prevented anything further in regards to Virgil's emotions being said.

Deceit held grudges when things were hidden from him that he couldn't quite figure out and he'd thought that had been the case with Virgil, but the reaction to his words, the tears when he was made to leave, everything had him questioning what was actually being concealed. The reactions he'd thought were just from the shame of trying to hide something from the one person in Thomas's mind that would know didn't make sense anymore, no more than Logic seeming to know or even calling Virgil his partner.

In the embodiment of chaos and rejected inspirations a lot more was happening than Remus knew how to show. That was His Friend, His Anxiety now wrapped around someone completely different. He was possessive and jealous and had never imagined that kicking His Person out because of something he was doing could result in him becoming Someone Else's let alone seeming upset by the words of the only other person Remus saw as His. That label was the only thing that stopped Deceit getting clubbed at the first reaction. Deceit was His too, and that showed no signs of changing. They worked together in unison, balancing ideas, sharing talk of philosophy and religion just as they had done with Virgil before everything began to change and he began to stare and lose track of conversations.

A glance as they returned to their home in the mind space said they'd try to work out what they were missing alone before bringing their memories together. If Logic thought they should understand at least why Virgil wasn't telling them something then they would work it out somehow.

Roman had always wondered at how Thomas actually labelled his sides, unknowingly or not. He and Remus were both labelled Creativity but that only ever factored in a small amount of what each stood for. He was still slowly figuring out what his brother covered, beyond intrusive thoughts and the darker aspects of creativity but his own role, the gifts given to, in Thomas's view, the good Creativity? He was all too aware that the romantic feelings and the excitement to plan and arrange events including dates came from him. He knew when any of the sides he was near held romantic love for another, even if it was still in the fledgling stage of attraction. When he'd locked Logan and Virgil together it had been fledgling feelings he'd reacted to, the buzzing slightly irritating him, but after the visit from the darker sides, the only way he could describe what came from Virgil was True Love and it wasn't for Logan but his brother and Deceit.

He didn't dare question or mention it though with Logan standing guard as he was, so retreated to his room to do something he rarely allowed himself to. His mirror could help him deliberately seek out the romantic emotions in other sides, initially it was just in regards to Thomas's own romantic prospects to know if everyone was actually interested in the men he dreamt of but he'd learnt over Thomas's last crush it also included the ones separate from Thomas too. Even if Deceit and Remus were unaware of any romantic feelings he'd be able to learn if there was even a seed of them there and that's what he wanted to do that evening, after checking on Logan's feelings to the matter at least since Virgil's overwhelmed everyone else's after Deceit's comment.

A knock at the door interrupts him after working out that Deceit has some although Remus remained unknown. “If you're about to warn me against locking you all in together, or even just Virge with them then neither would work. Remus is Creativity too.” He dead-pans at Logan stood outside his door.

“Neither of them know so don't tell them.” The instruction is hushed and Roman can see Logan's door still ajar as he nods, waiting to see if any further information would come. “A lot more happened leading up to V ducking out than just what we did but if you want to do something to help or feel like you're interfering in this, move Virgil's room here. It's beyond time that he actually lived with us.”

Anxiety's room caught his attention outside of any thoughts of romance finally, and for all they had visited with Thomas he had no clue where in the mind it was other than not in their house. He could allow the request as long as it was outside of wherever his brother lived and Logan would know the issues that had come from the two Creativities crossing their realms of influence. It had left Thomas with a major migraine a few times, so for this to be asked he knew it couldn't be there.

/\/\/\/\ Part Two /\/\/\ Part Three /\/\/\/\ Part Four /\/\/\/\/\ Part Five /\/\/\/\/\ Part 6 /\/\/\ Part Seven /\/\/\ Part Eight /\/\/\ Part Nine /\/\/\/\

#virgil sanders #logan sanders #Analogical #remus sanders #deceit sanders #roman sanders #sanders sides fics

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fanfictionisliteraturetoo · 5 years ago

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A Supernatural Christmas Carol (Chapter 1)

Series Summary: After a rough year, the reader is having a hard time doing anything besides work. When Dean encourages the reader to celebrate Christmas with Sam and him, the reader declines. After their disagreement, the reader retreats to her room. Throughout the night the reader is visited by four unexpected visitors. Will these visitors be able to help her have a change of heart before it’s too late?

Chapter One Summary: The reader is trying to find a new case, when Dean reminds her it’s Christmas Eve. The reader and Dean have a disagreement about whether or not they should take a break from hunting for the holidays. After their disagreement she returns to her room where she is visited by someone from her past.

Pairings: Dean x Reader

Warnings: Angst and character death (an OC, no main characters).

Word Count: 2,160+

A/N: This is loosely based on A Christmas Carol by Charles Dickens. I will be writing five chapters to follow the format of the book. This first part doesn’t have much Dean x Reader but the following four parts will. I’m hoping this series will be completed on Christmas Day. Wish me luck. Merry Christmas and Enjoy!

I sat in the war room on my laptop searching for a case, completely unaware that today was Christmas Eve. Earlier this year, I severely injured my left leg which didn’t allow me to do much hunting. On top of my physical injury, my heart was also injured. My sister joined a sinister coven of witches who used their magic for riches, success, and power. After months and months of not hearing from her, she finally reached out to me and asked to meet up. I immediately packed up and headed for Oklahoma where she claimed to be. Once I arrived the situation quickly turned south, and literally went up in flames. My sister was where she said she would be but she wasn’t who I thought she would be. Before I stopped hearing from her, we talked at least once a week. I attempted to keep her distant from my hunting life, to protect her. When she went missing I wasn’t sure if she was dead or alive. As soon as I saw her in that diner I knew something was off. The situation ended with her lighting the diner on fire in an attempt to throw me off her track, but in doing so she almost killed me. That’s when I knew my sister was gone.

These injuries made it difficult to leave the bunker. I often felt stir crazy as I watched Sam and Dean come and go. In an attempt to be helpful, I crafted myself into the bunker’s personal caretaker. With my leg still on the mend I couldn’t do a lot of the heavy lifting but I did manage to do some basic chores along with lots of organizing. Between all the things the Men of Letters had collected, combined with things brought in by the Winchester’s, the bunker needed some serious assistance. However, most of my time was spent in the war room or the library, surrounded by lore books, my laptop, and my journal. I was now the team’s main case finder and researcher. I missed hunting and for now this was as close as I could get. I couldn’t help my sister, but I could help plenty of other people by helping the boys catch monsters.

Today felt no different than any other day. I got up early, made the boys’ breakfast, and started searching for cases. I was coming up dry and had been for days. I was just getting into some weird, but promising, internet pockets when Dean came in.

“Merry Christmas Eve (Y/N)!” Dean cheerfully greeted me as he entered the room.

“Eh it’s just another day” I muttered, as I continued to scroll through tabloids

“It’s just another day? (Y/N) it’s Christmas Eve! You can’t be serious?” He teased.

I had honestly forgotten about Christmas, and even with Dean reminding me I didn’t really care. Working was helping me feel like I was in control. After the year I had, what little control I could gain over my life I quickly took.

“I am Dean. We’re hunters, we don’t really have time for that sort of thing.” I replied, closing my laptop in defeat. I wasn’t going to get anything done at the moment.

“Exactly my point sweetheart,” Dean pulled up a chair beside me and sat down. “We’re hunters. Sometimes we need a little bit of normalcy to balance us out. Plus the holidays are a great excuse for pie!” He laughed.

I simply replied “You can have pie any day,” and stood up to collect my things. Perhaps I could find another spot to do my research.

“Why are you so tense?” Dean questioned, standing up with me.

“What else can I be, when I live in a world full of monsters?” I retorted. “Sure it’s Christmas Eve but people are still dying Dean. People are losing their sanity, their homes, and their family because of the evil that’s out there. The longer we sit here and play house, the more likely it is someone falls victim to another untimely death.” With that I grabbed my things, held them close to my chest, and headed for the exit.

“(Y/N)!” Dean grabbed my shoulder, turning me to face him. I could see his eyes glittering from the tears he was holding back. I knew I had hurt him, but I didn’t know how to fix it. I was not going to change my mind. There was too much at stake for me to worry about the holidays.

“Dean! You can celebrate Christmas if you want to, just leave me out of it.” I curtly replied, causing Dean’s hand to drop off my shoulder. I wanted to run to my room while I had the chance but I could tell he wasn’t done with this conversation yet.

“Listen, this job is hard (Y/N), but a lot of good comes from it. Every time we gank some douchebag the world is a slightly better place. I know that sometimes it feels like a never-ending battle, but I wouldn’t trade it for anything. However, I also know how important it is to rest up occasionally so you don’t burn out. And on top of that I know that it’s important to open up to others, so that the darkness you fight daily doesn’t get bottled up, until you can’t handle it anymore,” He paused. “(Y/N) I know you’re trying to make up for the terrible year you’ve had, but you’re turning into someone I don’t recognize. I’m worried about you, hell we’re all worried about you! There’s no way for me to understand everything you’re going through, but I do know what it’s like to lose people. Please let me help you?” Dean’s words made my heart wrench. I couldn’t open up to him. It wouldn’t solve anything and it would cause me to lose focus.

Before Dean finished speaking, I heard Sam enter the room behind me. He must have been standing there for a while, unsure whether or not he should come in and join the conversation. Sam went immediately to Dean’s side and crossed his arms. Once Dean was finished, Sam spoke up.

“Dean’s right (Y/N), we are worried about you. We just want to help.” Sam delicately declared.

For some reason what Sam said struck my nerves. Perhaps it was due to the thoughts of my sister plaguing my mind or perhaps it was due to something else. Deep down I knew both of them were trying to help. I knew that I shouldn’t lash out at them. Unfortunately for them, my anger and sadness overcame my logical thoughts.

“I didn’t ask either of you to be worried about me,” was all I could say. I turned around and briskly headed towards my room. I could feel Sam and Dean’s eyes on my back. The whole ordeal made my heart feel like it was in my throat. Breathing became difficult, and upon arriving to my room I quickly closed and locked my door. To my despair, I put my studies aside and dropped onto my bed. Of course I was disappointed in that interaction with the boys, but I couldn’t let that get in the way of my work. Once I caught my breath I sat up, went over to my desk, and dove back in.

Eventually, I came across a blog that claimed to be a dedicated witch tracking blog. Thoughts of my sister continued to consume me. I tried to read through the blog, but my mind would not focus. I turned off my laptop and set it aside, then bent down and picked up the Celtic legends book on my floor. Hoping that reading would pull my mind somewhere else, I opened the book to where I left off. For a few moments I was able to read without any problems but the words quickly became difficult to understand, just as the webpage had done. I reread the page in front of me a few times with no luck.

“Whatever,” I grumbled, placing the book down. I rubbed my temples in the hopes that I could get myself to focus on the task at hand. When I picked up the book again I was shocked by what I saw. The golden design on the cover had completely shifted its shape. I threw it down and scooted away, trying to observe it from afar. I blinked a few times but the image remained the same. The golden spirals now curled elegantly to form a portrait of my sister. I had used this book plenty of times before and it had never changed like this.

Even though she was made of golden swirls, she looked the same. Beautiful tresses of hair framing her face, full lips, and eyes that pierced the soul of whoever looked into them. I decided to scoot closer to investigate, my eyes fixed on the book, when suddenly the design was normal again.

To say I wasn’t frightened would be a lie. But I sat down anyway and tried to get back to work. I picked up the book and inspected it, half expecting the cover to change again. But there was nothing on either side. No image of my sister remained. The stress from fighting with Sam and Dean combined with the overall stress from this year was getting to me. I read for a while longer and somewhere along the way fell asleep at my desk. I started to wake up as a chill filled my room.

When I sat up to move to my bed, I could see my breath. This was not normal for the bunker and I started to get nervous. I shoved my hands under my mattress in search of my rock salt gun, but it was nowhere to be found. Just as I was about to call out for Dean, a figure appeared before me.

To my shock and horror, it was my sister. She looked similar to how I had seen her last, but instead of looking angry she looked sad and instead of being tangible she was transparent. I felt sick to my stomach and even though I wanted to scream, I couldn’t bring myself to say or do anything. I was paralyzed with fear and confusion.

“I really am here, in case you’re wondering. And yes, I am dead” She said while we observed each other from across the room.

“Um…sit down…sit down” I motioned towards my desk chair. She sat down across from me while I sat on my bed. “What happened? Why are you here?” I asked, still unsure if I was awake or if I was having another nightmare.

“What happened? Basically everything you said would happen.” She laughed. “The other witches felt threatened by me, then they plotted against me. Not only did they kill me, but they tethered my spirit to roam the earth. A spiritual ball and chain if you will. I haven’t been able to figure out how to get rid of it yet.” She explained. “But that’s not why I’m here. I’m here to apologize to you and help you before I turn into a vengeful spirit. I know now that everything you did was to protect me, I just couldn’t see it at the time. I am so sorry (Y/N). I threw my life away. I don’t want you to secure the same fate as me.” I began to cry as she spoke. My sister had been dead to me for months, but now she was actually a spirit sitting across from me. What was I supposed to do with that?

“Sis…I am going to everything I can to find those witches….and I will find a way to unchain you,” I sobbed.

“Don’t worry about that right now. Like I said, that’s not why I came here (Y/N). I am not the only visitor you will have tonight. Three more spirits will come to you. They each have a message for you. If you do not listen to them, you will never be able to overcome the challenges that lie ahead. Starting at midnight and following one hour after the next, they will come to give you their messages.”

“Why can’t they come all at once? Who are they?” My heart was racing. Usually when I interacted with ghosts they were already at the vengeful stage. It was worrisome to me to deal with spirits in this way.

“Remember what I’ve said already. Don’t throw your life away. And Sis, I love you. Good luck.” And with that she stood up and backed away. I shot up and tried to chase after her, but I wasn’t fast enough. She was gone.

Whether if it was due to the fatigues of the day or the interaction with my ghostly sister, or how late it was, or most likely a combination of all of these things, I went straight to bed. I felt greatly disturbed but sleep overcame me quickly.

#dean x reader #dean x you #supernatural christmas #spn christmas #a christmas carol #dean winchester #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural fic #christmas #A Supernatural Christmas Carol

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gaiatheorist · 4 years ago

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A little knowledge...

I keep starting this, and then deleting it, that’s either an indication that I’m trying to process as fully as i can, or that I’m being avoidant, and slipping into another depressive episode, I’ll keep an eye on it.

I have an untidy heap of paperwork at the side of my desk, it’s not ‘on’ the desk yet, because I’m not quite ready to fill it in. There’s no deadline on it, so it’s ‘floating’, rather than ‘fixed’, and the formatting of it is doing my head in. It’s the end-of-course review and coping plan for the Trauma Stabilisation Group I finished last week. I told my son a few days ago that the ‘mentals’ write their own coping plans, and he was incredulous, I’m relatively good at planning, and taking all factors into consideration, but the new medication, and the appeal against the denial of my disability benefit, and, well, 2020 are taking a toll on me, I’m slipping.

‘Introduction to Trauma Stabilisation Class’, three 90-minute sessions, delivered via Microsoft ‘Teams’, on account of the Covid-19 pandemic, we’re too unwell to be left to our own devices, so the online group was the least-bad option. It’s free, I know a fair few people who have had to pay for their own therapy, because they can’t access NHS treatment, and I know I’m part of a very small, but fortunate number, to still be on NHS lists. Groups of people with mental health issues are always a bit of a gamble, there’s the waiting-room-contagion factor, where some people will exchange symptoms and ‘unhelpful coping mechanisms’, and the weird mix of characters that are inevitable. This was either my third or fourth ‘Introduction to...’ group, and the online format was differently stressful to the in-the-flesh ones. I know ‘most’ of my group-dynamic bad habits, and there’s always a little bit of my cognitive functioning occupied with telling myself *don’t* do this, or that. In a nutshell, I’m a watchful show-off, the ‘feeling small and vulnerable’ part of my C-PTSD would, historically, lead me to muck about, or attempt to dominate groups, throw in my autistic ‘organising’, my professional desire to help, and the fatigue and over-stimulus from the brain injuries, and I *could* be a nightmare in groups.

I was honest with the triage staff right from the beginning, it’ll be in my notes that I acknowledge my tendencies to ‘take charge’, as a means of coping with so much in my life that’s been beyond my control, it’s not all deliberate, and it’s sometimes really useful. I’m a sheep-dog, which is productive when I’m rounding up stragglers, and pointing them in the right direction, less-so when I’m distracted by a squirrel outside the window.

Being what I am, and knowing what I know from my previous career is a double-edged sword. I know the fancy words for the theories and processes, so can be mildly irritated when the language has to be dumbed-down to the lowest common denominator. It does have to be, though, on the previous course, we had a couple of participants who couldn’t read the text on the worksheets (formatting issue, too much text crammed onto each page, to save on photocopying costs, they strained my eyes a bit) I can’t do my (TM) Autistic thing of assuming that, if I ‘know’ a thing, everyone else in the room does too. I can do my helpful thing of re-explaining something the facilitator has said if the group don’t seem to ‘get’ it, or clarifying something a participant has said if the facilitators misconstrue it. (One of the staff on the previous course was an absolute horror for that, she wasn’t listening actively, just barrelling on with what she thought had been said, people stop volunteering information when that happens.) I’m not there to ‘help’, or to ‘lead’, though. One of the participants in this last group threw a bit of a tantrum, she’d dominated most of the speaking in the previous session, and flipped when I was given air-time to explain something. That was hard to deal with, because I automatically switched to Mentor-mode, and very nearly lost track of the content trying to think of a way to alert one of the facilitators to check in on her, and try to bring her down from her agitated state before she hurt herself.

I’m dabbling with the slightly paranoid theory that some participants, or even facilitators might think I’m a Mystery Shopper sort of thing. My ‘old’ practices and processes made a lot of people ask “How do you DO that?”, the ‘Matilda’-thing, I just do, I’m exceptional at a lot of very difficult things sometimes, but I can’t use oven-gloves, and, especially recently, I’ve been forgetting a lot of words. Other participants might think I’m a smart-arse, I am, it doesn’t matter, I imagine I frustrate the facilitators because I can give theoretically correct answers, but can’t consistently apply the theories in my own life. I’m not there to make friends, we all have to sign contracts of expectations saying we won’t form relationships, I understand that, an elective empathy with other high-end mental health cases is never going to be a good thing. My curious combination of conditions makes me a bit of a distance-er anyway, I stick as firmly as I can to the procedural pathways, it’s a process-with-purpose, not a popularity contest.

I’m struggling with the ‘be kind to yourself’ angle again. It’s not in my nature, I don’t know how. That bumps heads with the ‘normalising nice things’, even at this level of mental health intervention, we’re encouraged to ‘savour the taste of your favourite food’- food is just fuel, I don’t have a favourite, and, when people start banging on about chocolate, or cake, or whatever, I don’t get it. Visit a favourite place, phone/meet up with a friend, listen to uplifting music, go for a walk, buy yourself flowers, have a haircut, all of the ‘normal’ nice-things leave me cold, I don’t really have hobbies or interests, very few things spark my oxytocin or dopamine responses, I’m not a joyful type, that’s my baseline-normal, not a press-the-panic-button indicator that I’m depressed.

“You’re just not trying!” Luckily, nobody ‘medical’ has trotted that one out, but it’s been the backing track to my life pretty much forever. I am trying, I’m trying very hard, especially since the brain injuries. There’s been a slow realisation that I have to pick my battles wisely, though. I’ve long maintained that anyone who’s ‘always’ happy must have a flap in their back where the batteries go, I’m not advocating living in a constant state of ‘Eeyore’ gloom, but constant joy must be bloody exhausting. I’m not always moody or maudlin, I’m just sort of ‘flat’, not particularly animated or enthusiastic about much, but I can engage for short periods when I need to. “Smile, love, it might never happen!” can get right in the bin, and, as the internet pointed out the other day, telling someone to ‘just think positive’ as a cure-all is ridiculous. Well-meaning, but oblivious people will chip in with their intrusive-insensitive opinions of how a bit of yoga, or more vegetables are all we need to be all-better, and it’s a challenge to not point out that some of us are a bit beyond ‘just snapping out of it’.

That’s not defeatist. I’m autistic, my brain runs on a non-standard Operating System, the updates don’t always load, and I have to make a hell of a lot of work-around adaptations. Sometimes life’s like walking everywhere with my shoes on the wrong feet, and sometimes it’s like my appliances have come with the wrong plug, and I have to stick a spoon-handle in the Earth socket to make them work. On top of the autism, I had a succession of adverse experiences through the course of my life, which have left me with C-PTSD. I have a telephone-directory of medical conditions, and the icing on the cake was the brain haemorrhage five years ago, I have brain injuries, bits of metal plugging up aneurysms, and one area of ‘risky’ defects on my brain-stem. Those are facts, I have a file of medical paperwork about two inches thick, but the UK disability benefit departments have decided to latch onto the fact that I’m not on any medication for mental health issues. (I’ve tried lots, none of them worked long-term, and now we know we’re dealing with a neurodevelopmental disorder, and physical brain damage, I don’t think a bit of Prozac is going to help.)

Knowing that my brain is physically and chemically different to ‘most’ people’s is not a get-out-of-jail-free-card. These are reasons, not excuses, and I’m doing what I can to work within and around my limitations. I’m not unique, or a special unicorn, I’m disabled, and damaged, and trying to work with the fragmented NHS. One of the issues with the trauma course was the assumptions. I absolutely don’t blame the facilitators, they’re working with pre-prepared material, and a ‘difficult’ cohort. I did gently correct the course-leader, when she started listing ‘normal’ coping mechanisms, the walk-in-the-park, cup-of-tea-with-friends type ones. Some of those ‘simple’ activities are incredibly difficult for some of us, that’s why we’re at this level of intervention, if we could have ‘just’ joined a knitting circle, or taken up photography, we’d already have done it. I explained the need for pacing, the other two participants had limited impulse control, so giving the ‘shopping list’ of strategies was a bit risky, I know I have a tendency to over-reach, so need to be careful with myself. None of us had mentioned nightmares or flashbacks, but they’re on the standard list of indicators for PTSD. There was an assumption that we all had them, in the same way as one of the other triage practitioners, ages ago, told me “It’s not PTSD, because you don’t have nightmares.” I have auditory and olfactory flashbacks and hallucinations.

The doctors that didn’t make further investigations for the mutated migraines before the aneurysm ruptured. The gyneacologist that told my HUSBAND “There’s nothing physically wrong with her.”, the Occupational Health doctor who told me “It’s not vertigo, because that’s spinning.” and “It wasn’t a stroke, because you don’t have one-sided weakness.” I know they have to have lists of diagnostic criteria to start from, but Little-Miss-Autistic here spent far too long just-trying-to-cope because I didn’t fit neatly into their matrices. (Don’t get me started on DWP/PIP ignoring reams of evidence, and just picking out that I turned up to the assessment with my trousers on the right way around...)

I know too much about some things, and not enough about others. My ‘flat’ presentation gives the impression that I’m calm when I’m not, and coping more than I am. The review for the trauma class isn’t until September, and I genuinely don’t know what the next step will be. I’m already on the waiting list for the ‘Compassion’ course, and the very long waiting list for the Specialist Neurodevelopmental Service in the city, to see if there’s anything ‘else’ I haven’t already tried to work within and around the autism. I’ve slipped through a million holes in a million nets, because I know enough to give the answers I ‘should’, the biggest irony is that when I answer “I don’t know.”, the assumption is that I’m being defensive or difficult. A little knowledge is indeed a dangerous thing.

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justlightthefirstspark · 5 years ago

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United vs Chelsea - Conti Cup Semi Final - 29/01/2020

So the line up and bench for this one was interesting. Aimee Palmer was cup tied for this one, having already lined out for Sheffield United earlier in the season, Ella Toone is currently serving a 3 game suspension following a (questionable) red card vs Spurs, and both Kirsty Hanson and Leah Galton are out injured, which led to a very sparse bench, and pretty much the same XI as vs City. Lauren James started in place of Jane Ross, which was very clearly a good idea.

First half:

This game was a little cagey to start with, but ultimately a lot better than Saturday’s showing vs City. LJ had a decent shot around 6 mins, after some great build work from Groenen.

Abbie’s constant back passes to Earps returned, as did my anxiety. To be honest, Earps never looks completely comfortable to be on the receiving end of back passes so I don’t understand why the majority of that back 4 insist on playing that way so often?

Aside from those back passes, I though Abbie had a really good game. At least until she was forced off injured deep into the second half. She played an absolute stormer from the first whistle, and she was literally everywhere. Had a decent chance to get the first goal too around the 25 minute mark, very unfortunate to have that header go straight at Telford. She really, really redeemed herself after that performance vs City at the weekend.

‘27 - some Wales on Wales crime. Sophie Ingle booked for an almighty challenge on Hayley Ladd. Fair enough, the way Hayley fired herself into Ingle may have made it look more than it was. Entertaining tho. I’m also gonna take this opportunity to confess that I may be a little bit (a lot) in love with Hayley Ladd. I gotta be honest, I didn’t really know much about her before she signed in the summer, but she’s really, really great. I feel like she’s kinda underrated a little bit? Anyway, I genuinely don’t think this girl feels any pressure, like at all. A little bit like LJ I guess. She just gets her head down and does her job - calm and cool 100% of the time. I would very much like her to stay forever. I’m definitely gonna have to start watching more of this Wales team aren’t I?

‘34 - Earps with a cracking save. I feel like she’s more of a shot stopper than anything else, her distribution can be a little off sometimes, but she did really well to deny Chelsea there.

I think James and Arnot linked up quite well last night, especially around the 40 minute mark, unfortunately Lizzie was called just offside. She’s really impressed me (whenever she gets a shot) this season tbh, I hope she manages to get herself in the XI more often from now on.

‘42 - Jess Sigsworth pulling double shifts again. She’s constantly down around that back four, helping out and sometimes doing other people’s jobs for them and I’m kinda terrified that she’s gonna run herself into a brick wall at some stage? Like I think it’s fairly clear that we need to reinforce and add depth and quality defensively but I also think it’s pretty clear that Jess isn’t the answer to that particular problem, as impressive as her drive and her work rate is.

‘43 - United should have been clear and away on the counter there. There was an earlier challenge from Ladd (I’m pretty sure) that the ref took an age to make up her mind on, and by the time she decided to call it back, Groenen (again, I’d have to rewatch to be 100% certain) was up and over the halfway line on the break. Annoying af.

Halftime:

Tbh I thought United did really well to not have conceded and to still be in the game at the half. The first half as a whole was pretty decent, Chelsea ultimately had the better chances and were the slightly stronger team. I just wish we could have taken the few chances we had in the first half and made something from them, Telford isn’t the world’s best keeper and I feel like we could have tested her more and I was kinda disappointed we didn’t.

Second half:

‘47 - a fairly decent (surprisingly. It’s no secret we’re pretty piss poor at set pieces) from Zelem resulted in Amy heading just over, which hurt my soul. (I wanted her to score so bad youse have no idea)

‘52 - Arnot had a decent chance, and was 100% in cause Telford came about 82739 miles off her line, but unfortunately it was cleared away. (Sidenote: I HATE when keepers come off their line and out of their box like that, even opposition keepers. It just really shits me out. Anyway)

‘53 - a decent Chelsea opportunity goes wide. I saw somewhere (twitter probably) that it took a deflection, but I’d have to rewatch to be certain. FA Player get your shit together and upload the game so I can double check challenge 🙄

The game really started to come to life around the 50 minute mark. Both teams had decent chances within about a minute of each other, and United’s intensity really stepped up - they came out guns blazing in the second. Both teams pressing and passing really cleaned up around this time too.

‘61 - decent chance for Sigsworth. Angle was just too tight, but I think the build up was massively overworked. She passed it off the Zelem who held it for a little too long imo, before sending it back to Jess who lashed it into the side netting. Think Jess could have made something of it first time but hey, what’s done is done now.

Game started to get a little scrappy heading into the last 20 mins - back to the rushed and mismatched and intercepted passes of the first half.

‘70 - Chelsea free kick saved well by Earps.

‘71 - Goal - Chelsea. Really tight angle, just about squeezed home. Really good work from Mjelde in hindsight but I feel like Earps could have saved that one. I hate to blame her entirely but she really should have done better with closing that one down.

‘72 - almost an instant response from United. LJ had a fantastic chance to equalise but unfortunately scorched it over the bar. I’m not gonna lie, I expected a little better from her there, but I understand the urgency.

‘73 - pretty soft yellow for Sigsworth

‘74 - Ross 🔁 Arnot.

Seemed like all the wind was sucked out of United after that goal, approaching the 80 minute mark. Most of that intensity and urgency was still kinda there and evident in small bursts, but was mostly lacking.

‘80 - United forced into a change. Harris (don’t talk to me) 🔁 McManus. Abbie took a bit of a blow around 20 minutes in, committing a challenge she was ultimately booked for. Fair play to her, she played through it, but she was definitely struggling for a while there. Apparently she was on crutches after the game, so I hope it’s nothing too serious. Also interested to see what Casey does with that back 4 if she’s out for a while. Amy obviously goes back in and CB but it would appear Martha is higher than Ökvist in the pecking order, which is annoying. I get that Casey is more defensive minded and might not want to play two more attacking FB’s at once (Ökvist & Smith) but Martha... 🤐

‘84 - James had a great ball in that forced a corner that - you guessed it - nothing came of

‘85 - Earps had a great block to deny Chelsea a second (and really and truly kill me off)

‘88 - Harris decides to try her luck from a little way out. It was a decent shot to be fair, given the circumstances, just couldn’t get the dip it needed and never really troubled Telford on it’s way over the bar.

4 minutes at the end of the 90 but United couldn’t get anything to stick, which was massively unfortunate.

Two semi final defeats in a row is absolutely gut wrenching, and very hard to take, but last night taught me a lot about this team. I personally thought that this game was miles better and such an improvement on Arsenal away last season. They were much better all round, in every position than last weekend vs City. To come so close against the 3 best teams in the league 5 times now and walk away with nothing is hard, and I feel so bad for those girls. They give their all everytime they step out on that pitch, and they deserved more. This week in particular. Seeing them all in literal bits at the final whistle nearly broke me tbh.

But it’s becoming more glaringly apparent as the season goes on that we are in desperate need of a more clinical, stone blood killer up top. I’d also be open to giving Mikalen a run in goal to prove herself - I think Earps has been a bit off lately.

Galton and Hanson were massively missed last night, and I think we could have done with Toone as well, but oh well.

I had my issues with the ref as well last night, I have to say. I thought she handled the knocks and (most of) the bookings correctly, as well as the penalty shout (which was not a penalty, sorry Jess) but she missed a clear foul on Jackie (59 mins) as well as a clear tug on Arnot (64 mins) in the second half. I also thought LJ was very lucky to get away with just a yellow for her foul on Ingle at the end of the first half, looked a little more like a red to me 😬

Hopefully Galton will be back for Sunday - she absolutely tore Reading to shreds the last time out and I would very much like to see more of that 🔥, but I’m kinda worried about that midfield trio too. The last thing we need is three defeats on the bounce, but they must be dyinggg cause they literally never, ever stop.

I know this one is a little later than usual and the format is slightly different too, but I was watching the men (for some reason) as well, and it was kinda hard to keep track of two games at once lol. Plus I just wasn’t really in the mood to try and to this last night. Also - if anyone has critiques or corrections or questions about my opinions or anything else pls don’t hesitate to drop them in my ask and I’ll edit things and answer whatever as best as I can ✌🏽

#that was... a lot #this annoyed me more than last year’s SF tbh #i also have seem to have a lot of opinions #sorry - i think #muwfc #manchester united women #my writing

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