#we never learn exactly what happened in the broadcasting room

[fortune-maiden]

I doubt the series will go in this direction but I really hope a future novel has the other Sakuta from Vol 9 turn out to be our Sakuta space/time traveling and we get to see both the broadcasting room event and the thought process behind his note. And why the first event leads to Ikumi Akagi’s appearance at Minegahara

[sophieswundergarten]

Who wants to see me analyze the Emergency through the lyrics of a song that's been stuck in my head all week? Nobody? Cool, I'm afraid we're doing it anyways

[Verse 1] And this week the trend Was to not wake up 'till 3PM I picked a few conscious hours that I chose to spend And slept away the rest of them And this week the trend Was to crash and burn and then return again To practice the life that I pretend Provides enough to get me through the weekend

This first set is highly reminiscent of what the Emergency makes people feel. The desperation, hopelessness, and pressure that drives people frantic because "No one's at the wheel", but the inability to escape the cycle of it. No one is satisfied or peaceful or fulfilled, but there isn't a solution on the horizon.

[Chorus] So I say give me a solution And watch me run with it Then You gave, You gave me a solution What have I done with it? 'Cause I was absolutely sure I had it all figured out way back then And now it's this minute, this hour, this day

Mr. Benedict had a solution, and he was trying to give it to everyone, and there was even a small moment where it seemed like he was beginning to gain a tiny bit of traction, but then Curtain started kidnapping and brainsweeping the operatives who were working on fixing it. For a split second, Mr. Benedict had a hold of what needed to be done, but then everyone who could help was taken away and people got bogged down in the instant feeling of panic.

[Verse 2] And this week the trend Was to backstab every single one of my friends And leave a voicemail message trying to make amends All the while hoping things work out in the end

This verse is what I imagine the kids felt like at the Institute, as they were working so hard to take down Curtain, but the messages were wreaking havoc on them. Specifically, Sticky's struggle with whether or not to trust Curtain, and Reynie's imaginary letters to Miss Perumal. Everyone is hoping and wishing for it to work out but they're scared because they don't know what's going to happen.

[Verse 3] This week the trend Was to borrow all the strength that You could lend To keep my head above the water and not descend Back to where I said I'd never go again

The only thing that I can liken this to is Milligan. It fits so perfectly with him relying on Mr. Benedict and the others when he initially loses his memory, and the swimming when escapes the Institute as well as his escape from the book version of the Waiting Room, and how he has to return to the place where Curtain hurt him so badly and took Kate from him. He has a very instrumental part throughout the whole story of the Emergency.

[Chorus]

[Bridge] And I just want to get mugged at knife-point To get cut enough to wake me up 'Cause I know that I don't want to die Sitting around watching my life go by And what we take from this is what we'll get And we haven't quite figured it out just yet Because all of us are all too stuck Strapped to a chair, watching our lives blow up Stuck watching our lives blow up

The first four lines are a little extreme, but I think that they communicate the desperation that Mr. Benedict and co. feel about how important it is that the Emergency be ended, and how it is a sharper and more clear emotion than the general, dull desperate feeling that the messages are broadcasting. The middle two describe the way the kids feel during their whole mission: Unsure of who exactly the Sender is, deciphering the morse code riddles, and even up until the Whisperer is destroyed and figuring out Curtain's password. They have a lot of figuring out to do, but once they've finished and they get to look back on it, they find they have learned a lot. The last three lines fit the final confrontation in the Whispering Gallery quite well, in my opinion! Obviously, how the Whisperer (in the books) has the manacles that trap the boys, and that they think trap Constance. And, of course, Curtain's wheelchair being a part of the Whisperer, and him watching as his life's work is destroyed, but that destructing is what will allow the rest of society to regain their lives.

[uncleasad]

In other news, tonight Hallmark Channel reran what I’ve decided is one of my favorite of their movies, A Royal Runaway Romance (some possible spoilers hereafter).

One of the reasons I like it is because it doesn’t have that tired, formulaic trope of “partway through the second hour, one character, put in a tough situation, does something that hurts the other character or that the other character misinterprets in a hurtful way, and they refuse to talk to each other for most of the last half-hour until someone comes to their senses in the closing minute or two.” Those situations always feel so contrived, even forced, to me, particularly when the couple refuses to talk/explain/hear the other person out. Yeah, bad stuff happens, people make mistakes, couples have fights…but the not talking/not trying never seems realistic and always grates on me.

This movie instead goes with a more straightforward “your purpose here is to help me with X” and feelings develop along the way, but they’re both mature enough to understand that while they have these feelings, their purpose is X, not romance. So while there’s a bit of heartbreak, it’s not the kind that comes from betrayal (or “betrayal”) or the like, but more the kind where you know the cool person you hung out with (and liked) at summer camp is going back to their life, too, and you’ll never see them again (as one example of the type).

Another reason I really enjoy this movie is Philippa Northeast starring as Princess Amelia, who is lovely and kind and trying to find her way/place. (Ms Northeast looks a bit like Emilia Clarke and Lena LuthorKatie McGrath—perhaps exactly like if they had a daughter 😂—so there’s that. And that pink dress, wow 🤩 Kudos to the costume designer.) Her excitement for seeing America is both charming and contagious. (Plus, now I want s’mores!)

This is also one of those movies where I’d like to see a sequel. There’s the expected happy ending, but there’s so much room—perhaps deliberately so?—for more adventures before Amelia becomes queen. I’m not exactly sure how you’d work the “romance” angle without falling back on the tropes I find trite—I’d like to see them exploring and learning about each other similar to the the way they did in this film, but as a couple rather than two strangers. A romance adventure? Dunno. (Hallmark made romance-in-a-sequel work for a whole series of “Season in the Vineyard” films with Rachael Leigh Cook, but I’ve only ever seen the first one, so I don’t know how that worked.)

The other thing this rewatch reminded me (I can’t believe this movie came out in 2022—it was either the week before or the week after Katherine McNamara’s groundbreaking one [I thought I had a post about Kat’s movie, but I can’t find it under the expected tags, and we all know tumblr search is absolutely worthless])—is that, in spite of their ability to (sometimes) move beyond that contrived conflict, these Hallmark movies have yet to move beyond other formulaic elements: Amelia has a person-of-color “best friend” (assistant) and a really cool fun gay uncle. I’ve seen commercials for a winter/Christmas movie with two Black leads, and there was Kat’s aforementioned movie where she ends up with a woman (the way her sexuality was never defined, only explored, felt beautiful—like a vision of an ideal world—but I can’t help but wonder whether it was specifically downplayed)…they’re still (almost) all straight, white couples at the center. And while I adore many of the Hallmark leading ladies (“providing regular employment for actresses who portrayed Uncle Asad’s favorite bit-part broadcast-network characters since 2002” 😂) and enjoy many of the movies, they’re just not reflective of the world we live in…and so very far behind most of the rest of the networks out there. It makes me very sad.

[mylawcitrus]

On a recent Tumblr experience:

I went live. I had a lonely heart and shit to say. So I just went there and ranted, told the story of my exes, started to talk about technology, about stuff people did, stuff that happened. I can't remember how or what exactly I disclosed things, but I do remember that I was more or less trying to look good, and I still had long hair. And the first person who said hi to me was someone whose username I couldn't really read.

I endedd the call, and went to see who that was. I was just starting a job in a new company. And so I learned that she was from Turkey. I said hello, and she answered in English. She started it. "How you doing" and a wink. I was like... not a Friends reference where I'm the one getting hit on. After my ex sang Wicked Game on a videocall. Not that. And so I learned that she didn't actually speak English, and used translator. But that was after I asked to see her. I must've been really pushy, but I think I was just making like, a blunt suggestion: "did you wanna keep talking? I have a link". And she went to my Whereby.

There, I remember her saying "you show? For me? Wow". And she liked it. So much I asked her to show and she did, kind of like someone who's never done it before, except that she was not a freaking teenager, she was quite near my age I think, or somewhere in the late 20s. She even had a Master's degree, I learned.

Then we smoked a cigarette together. And we tried to talk. And I learned a sentence: "I like you", in Turkish. That's how I wanted to end the call. And so I did, I she messaged me every day. Including like, while I was supposed to be working. So it got a little problematic.

But then, she quickly started to do lives herself. And it was all her friends. She had many, oh my. A lot of Turkish Tumblr users, that surprised me. So the room was packed, and I had no idea what they were talking about. And I know it was a local thing, because the chat was all in Turkish. And then the people, sometimes 4 at a time, who broadcasted, were also Turkish. I didn't dare to ask. Maybe she wanted me to.

And now that I remember, she saw me play the guitar. And I can't remember what I played, maybe some Tim Reynolds, but she stayed and enjoyed it. On Tumblr Live, you could see who joined in the order that they joined, but you couldn't see who had left. I assumed she stayed the whole time, and I was like... "really? Someone would do that?" And I even had the idea of blogging about Tumblr Live, but nobody else did, and the commpetition was Twitch.

So the idea died, and my relationship with this girl, Mehtap, also kinda did, even though she's friends with me on Facebook. We can't speak without translation. I sent her a message last time translating from English to Turkish, copy pasted it, and sent it over Messenger. It shows "sent" and not delivered. I'm not sure what that even means.

But I got included on a Tumblr list of one of the funniest people I saw on live, @wh0-is-sh3, and it's a thing that I was hoping would work but I'm absolutely not familiar with Discord and I'm still stuck at Skype contacts and messages that haven't gotten a response, and I don't understand Snapchat except that people scam others too easily, and this is it.

My biggest interest when I came to Tumblr was posting poetry, some of which I've deleted because I found it to be too painful. But that's how I met @smakkabagms and, later, @heartofmuse. Then I had the privilege to be followed by the @bottlecap-press, who posts very innovative poetry and helps new authors get visibility.

If you're looking for the everyday thoughts I used to post, not in poetry form, I'll ask you to follow my on https://www.threads.net/@ivoescobar89 -- I'm on there most frequently.

Thanks, and if you have a similar meetup story, let me know in the comments and DMs.

If you have time, check out my Linktree on the bio.

[haroldgross]

New Post has been published on Harold Gross: The 5a.m. Critic

New Post has been published on http://literaryends.com/hgblog/rebootquels/

Rebootquels

If it feels like you’re getting a lot of the same these days in broadcast and streamed entertainment, you are. Studios are consciously digging into their licensed properties and rebooting them to various degrees of success. But a few have really surprised and proven that while there are a limited number of plots, good writers can make their stories sing.

Quantum Leap

This has been the most surprising of the reboots. It manages to embrace the social Pollyanna of the original show, but layers in today’s TV sensibilities. It even has multiple plots and a great arc to the first season that both fully resolves and leaves it open for going forward on its own terms.

Raymond Lee (Top Gun: Maverick) takes on the lead of our lost and forgetful leaper. But unlike the original series, we have a complete view of the control room and a collection of other characters and stories to follow in addition to him. Caitlin Bassett brings her real-life military background to bear on the series, while Mason Alexander Park (The Sandman, Cowboy Bebop), Ernie Hudson (Ghostbusters: Afterlife), and Nanrisa Lee fill out the rest of the homebased crew. If you enjoyed the original series, you’ll love this one. It takes the same ideas and expands on them in very unexpected ways, building a more complete world and self-perpetuating adventure.

Winchesters

A solid and clever hand-off from Supernatural. And it even resolves some of my frustrations with the end of that long-running series. It is distinctly aimed at a younger audience and has much more of a Scooby gang vibe than the earlier series, but the cast work well together and the snarky dialogue keeps it all rolling nicely. Drake Rodger (The In Between) and Meg Donnelly are the core story we know (Sam and Dean’s parents as young adults). They aren’t exactly what you might have imagined from the original show, but they are close enough and work well together. Backed up by Nida Khurshid and Jojo Fleites, the foursome are an entertaining group of monster hunters…all with demons of their own. Demetria McKinney (Motherland: Fort Salem) and Bianca Kajlich add a little returning adult perspective throughout the series, but the focus is really on the core of younger players.

There are, of course, many cameos and nods to the original series, but never too heavy and, in the case of this first season, just enough to give it legs. It isn’t brilliant, but neither was Supernatural at the start. This prequel has enough gas to find its own way and travel forward. It has even learned the most important lesson and added humor from the start.

Fantasy Island

Now in its Sophomore year, this show is proving it can change and shift to keep it vibrant. It is still light fare, but it remains fun and with complicated relationships and rules. And, to its credit, it got me to come back, which I didn’t think was going to happen. Is it overly simple at times, sure…but it is Fantasy Island after all, not Reality Island. Doesn’t mean it doesn’t feel absurd at times, but the quick resolutions are built into the idea. Much like Quantum Leap, the shift of the show to “behind the scenes” of the main action is an interesting and compelling change. For generally light fare at the end of an evening, it does just fine.

Night Court

This is the least interesting of the reboots. It does less with the material and veers less from its progenitor. It doesn’t make it unentertaining. Heck, a 22 min bit of fluff, especially with John Larroquette (The Librarians) returning as a nicely evolved Dan Fielding in the mix, can certainly fill a bit of an evening. But Melissa Rauch is no Harry Anderson, and the crew as a whole isn’t quite the ensemble it needs to be yet. It may still get there, but it isn’t much different from the the first series, and even with some of the good bones to work from, it still doesn’t know quite how to land the humor the way the old show always could. I’ll still give it some time, but it isn’t top on my list on any night yet.

[amortentiaparker]

be enough ⇒ p. parker

“Would it be enough if I could never give you peace?”

summary: peter tries to break it off when spiderman gets in between your relationship.

pairing: peter parker x fem!reader

word count: 3.4k

warnings: just one f bomb and a few swear swords sprinkled in

A/N: my first peter oneshot <3 likes and reblogs are appreciated! also, please do not repost anywhere— even if you’ll give credit.

inspired by peace - taylor swift

High school is finally over and New York was surprisingly good to you. The weather reflects the warmth in your heart whenever you think about the days of freedom ahead. You weren’t worrying too much about college, in fact you were excited for the new journey that you were going to take. With Peter attending MIT, thanks to Tony Stark’s so called pull, and you attending Boston University in the fall, you two agreed to make the most out of New York during the summer; despite already having grown up in the city.

Today, you two were set to go to Coney Island. You and Peter prided in the fact that you were New York locals, knowing every nook and cranny of the often romanticized city.

But after watching a certain Olsen twins movie during the time when he forgot his Star Wars DVDs, you two decided that it would be fun to go exploring New York through the eyes of tourists. Just last week, he purchased matching I love NYC shirts for you and him from a vendor across Delmar’s, which earned him odd looks since the residents knew that he was definitely a kid of the city. 

The sky was clear and you couldn’t help but close your eyes, smile to yourself, and bask in the sunshine. You were waiting for Peter by your fire escape, knowing that he will still climb up even without his Spiderman suit. But you knew that he had it on him, no matter where he is or who he was with. 

You found out about his secret identity during junior year, even when you two weren’t together yet. You felt bad that you found out accidentally, through Ned who accidentally showed you a selfie of him and Peter wearing the suit sans the mask. You remembered how red Peter’s face turned and how Ned gave him a sheepish, apologetic smile. Turns out, Peter let it slip to his best friend that he was starting to develop feelings for you which lead to Ned playing wingman.

You felt bad that the discovery happened without it going according to Peter’s terms. His shocked face and stuttering left you wanting to pinch his adorable cheeks and assure him that nothing will change. But of course things did change- but for the better.

The two of you got even closer than before during junior year. By the end of the school year, you were sure that something was definitely there, so it was disheartening when you learned that you were off to some Mediterranean country for the first month of summer break. 

But even after everything, you treasured the summer time because it was when you came back from vacation with your family that Peter asked you to go on a date with him. 

And now here you were, nearly a year later, wearing a blue sundress similar to the one you wore on your first date with your favorite brown-eyed boy. The window to your bedroom was open, ABBA playing softly in the background, and the summer breeze gently blowing your hair to the side. It was serene. 

A ping! rang through the air.

Peter <3: you ready, pretty girl???

And within a second later, your boyfriend was already standing at your fire escape. You smiled at him and Peter returned the loving gaze. His eyes scanned you up and down which made heat rush to your cheeks. 

After grabbing your belongings from a nearby desk chair, you double checked if everything in your room was in place before taking Peter’s outstretched hand to help you out the window. When you two got off the stairs, you took it as the time to check Peter out, just as he did to you.

He looked very handsome in his white button up shirt, levi’s, and blue satin jacket. You smirked when it was his turn to blush and you tugged at his jacket to give him a small kiss on the lips. You intentionally opted to leave your jacket behind so he can give you his for when the summer night breeze settles in later. Peter nudged his nose with yours once your lips have separated. 

“You wore that on purpose.” You whispered teasingly as you tugged at the sleeve of his jacket; the shade similar to your dress.

“You wore that on purpose.” Peter repeated as his hand slightly pushed up the hem of your dress with the palm of his hand. 

You felt that familiar heat on your face return, so you decided to place your head against the crook of his neck and left a kiss by his sweet spot. Giggling, you pulled away when he groaned. 

“We’re gonna be late, pretty boy.” You grabbed his hand and proceeded to tug him along as you skipped down the pavement. 

Luckily, it was a weekday, meaning that even though it was a nice summer day, there weren’t many children around to wreak havoc on the amusement area. There were old couples, but there were also teenagers hanging out with their friends. You and Peter giggled to each other like children when you two recognized some younger students in Midtown that were obviously on their awkward first date.

“Ice cream or cotton candy?” He asks as he snakes an arm around your waist and places a chaste kiss on your shoulder. 

The two of you eventually got some ice cream on waffle cones, but that was after you spent your energy playing games and riding the attractions. You argued that Peter might throw up if you two got the ice cream right before getting on the cyclone. 

The sun has set by now, and the night sky is illuminated by the stars up above. Bright lights overpower the darkness, creating a glow on everybody’s faces. And as you expected, Peter’s jacket was now around your shoulders. It didn’t take a lot of convincing anyways, his heightened senses immediately noticing the goosebumps that littered your skin. 

You two walked hand in hand by the boardwalk, with his thumb occasionally rubbing circles on your knuckles- which the butterflies in your stomach went frantic for.

You two shared a giddy smile, as if an unspoken inside joke had just occurred, but you knew it was just Peter sensing the flips your heart is currently doing. In the back of your mind, there was a voice saying that he’d still know either way if he didn’t have his spidey senses. You found yourself giggling out loud at how adorably ridiculous “spidey senses” sounded. 

“Whatcha laughing at?” Peter playfully squinted his eyes at you. 

“Nothing.” You laughed even harder which caused your boyfriend to tug you closer to him. 

Peter raised his ice cream closer to your face and you squealed and tried to get free from his grasp. He was eating triple chocolate for god's sake! 

“Tell me,” He chuckled and brought the cone closer. “Or else.”

“Is that a threat, Spiderman?” You whispered the last bit. 

The grin on your boyfriend’s face widened and next thing you knew, you felt the cold touch your cheek. You gasped, but didn’t pull away. All you wanted was to listen to Peter’s contagious laugh forever.

The laughter died down, but a look of content washed over both your faces, a faint smile still painted on your mouth. 

Peter brought a thumb to wipe away the ice cream smudge on your cheek. It was as if time slowed down and he was the only thing on your mind.

He has consumed your thoughts and there’s not a day that goes by in which you don’t think about him. You can see that his hand still hovered over the side of your face and his eyes held a sparkle that not even the fireworks that were bound to go off later could match. I’m so in love with Peter, you thought to yourself. 

Pink blossomed across Peter’s freckled face and you knew that you had accidentally broadcasted your thoughts aloud. 

“I’m so in love with you too.” He said, voice soft- but you could hear it clearly above all the noise.

“We should go to the park.” You suggested. Peter knew exactly what you were referring to as he admired the dreamy gaze on your face. 

He nodded and laced your hands together once more. He placed a kiss on your forehead and you sighed in contentment. Life was good, peaceful even. 

The walk was filled with laughter and stories exchanged between you two. Whether it was a memory already told or one that was dug up from the back of your minds.

You quickly spotted the familiar wooden bench and the two of you made your way towards it. It was perched next to a tree which gave the perfect amount of shade, not that you needed it tonight though. 

You ran your fingers over the wood and smiled wistfully, “This is where you first kissed me.”

“Yeah,” Peter nodded before chuckling. “I was so nervous.”

“I know,” You teased. “But you’re big, ol’ strong Spiderman.”

“Spiderman doesn’t kiss,” Peter rolled his eyes playfully. “But so did I, so I didn’t know what to do.”

You couldn’t help but smile at your boyfriend’s sudden shyness. Looking around, you noticed that the park was mostly empty save for the vendors and a few women in business attire. But nevertheless, nobody was paying attention to each other.

You swung your legs over Peter’s, you sitting on his lap as you faced him. His arms found place on your hips on instinct and for a moment, the two of you sat there, eyes flickering from the other’s eyes and lips. 

You only got one kiss in when Peter gently pushed you away from him and he stood up from the bench, alertness and caution evident on his face. 

“I’m so sorry, baby.” He pleaded, guilt dripping from his voice.

“What-”

He quickly pulled you to the side and unzipped his backpack. A frown settled on your face as you saw the teddy bear he had won you earlier next to the familiar spandex suit. Settling behind the large tree, Peter started to undress and got into his suit, frantically looking around to see if anyone was watching. You did the same and made sure there was no onlooker. 

As you were about to express your concern, a sudden explosion filled your ears, causing you to scream. 

“Shit!” Peter exclaimed. His gloved hands pulled you to him. “Are you okay?”

All you could do was nod as the two of you looked over to where black smoke was rising into the already polluted air. An orange glow started to show, but it was not calming like the one back in the amusement park. Unable to speak, you listened to Peter and heard him talking to Karen about the commotion. 

“Y/N,” He pulled you from your thoughts. “Stay here, okay? Don’t go anywhere, not until I’m back.” 

“But, Pete--”

“Baby, please,” You could hear the desperation in your boyfriend’s voice. “Karen already predicts it won’t spread here so just stay, please.”

“Okay,” You frantically nodded. “I love you, be safe. Please, please be safe.”

Tears were starting to blur your vision and the last thing you could properly comprehend was Peter slightly lifting his mask to press a kiss to your forehead before he swung away with his webs. 

An hour has passed, and you were still shaking in fear by the bench. You had clutched Peter’s backpack to your chest and tried to calm yourself down by taking in his scent that lingered on the jacket. A faint scent of smoke filled your nostrils, but you clung to the smell of cinnamon mixed with fresh linen.

You received multiple texts from friends and family, but only gave them a short reply reassuring them that you’re fine. Physically, you were, but your mind was going into dark places. Your thoughts couldn’t stop from conjuring up negative ones. As much as you wanted to check on Peter, you knew that it would not benefit anybody because it would distract him from doing his job. 

“We gotta go!” Peter suddenly appeared in front of you. He didn’t wait for an answer before he pulled you into him, right arm secured around your torso.

You squealed as you two ascended into the New York skyline. You just hoped that your nails weren’t digging holes into Peter’s suit because of how hard you were clinging onto him.

“Peter!” You cried out. You heard him mutter an apology under his breath as he continued to shoot webs from building to building.

You kept your head tucked under his neck throughout the entire journey. You didn’t even know where you two were going but the fear mixing in with the adrenaline held you back from asking questions.

You felt Peter’s momentum slow down and you noticed that it was brighter and louder now. Honks from taxi cabs clashed with sirens from fire trucks. He helped you settle on your feet, and kept you steady when your legs went all wobbly.

You were at your fire escape.

Taking a few deep breaths, your heartbeat eventually calmed down and you took in Peter’s shaking form. You heard him let out a sob and panic rose in your chest again.

“Baby, hey, what’s wrong?” You asked with a soft tone, and started to gently lift up the bottom part of his mask.

His breathing was frantic and you continued to completely take off the mask that clung to his skin. Peter wasn’t meeting your eye and you knew that his senses were still going haywire. You cupped his face in your hands.

“Hey, Pete..” You cooed. “Breathe with me, yeah?”

You two started to synchronize your breathing pattern and you felt his jaw starting to relax underneath your touch. He finally looked you in the eyes and the tears forming in his waterline broke your heart.

“Are you hurt?” You asked, starting to open your bedroom window with one hand while the other remained on his cheek.

“I—” Peter started but eventually let out a sigh. He started helping you lift up the window and helped you crawl inside your room.

You were confused when Peter was still by the stairs and wasn’t budging.

“Come on in, it’s okay.” You reassured him. You knew by the look on his face that he was blaming himself for how your night turned from peaceful to one involving you inhaling in smoke.

“Come here, it’s okay,” You stretched out your arms and started to pull him into your room. You knew that he was complying since you wouldn’t be able to move him by an inch if he wasn’t.

Your arms didn’t let go, but rather tightened around Peter’s figure when he set foot into your bedroom. You rested your head against his chest and let the faint sound of his heartbeat calm you down. A small smile crept on your face his hand rested on your waist and the other started caressing your hair softly.

“I’m sorry.” He let out. You only hummed in return, letting him know that you were genuinely fine with the events of tonight. “We should—”

You kept quiet, waiting for him to finish his sentence. You pulled away when he didn’t.

“We should what, Pete?” You whispered as your hand came up to cup his cheek again. To be honest, you didn’t know why the two of you were whispering. The apartment was empty and you wouldn’t be bothering anyone.

“We should..” Peter trailed off once again. You could hear him swallow because of how quiet it was in your room. “We should break up.”

You immediately retracted your hand, “What?”

“I’m so sorry, Y/N,” Tears were fully streaming down his face now. “But it’s for the best.”

You could not comprehend what he was saying. Something definitely happened earlier by the fire that was causing him to say such things. You never pushed Peter to tell you about things going on with his life as a superhero.

Of course, you ask him to share fun stories and what it’s like, but never have you pushed him to share the horrors that he has seen. You know Peter well enough that he will tell you about it whenever he was ready. And you respect that. But this time was different.

“Peter, what happened?” You asked firmly.

“It’s– it’s me, okay? You being with me is dangerous and I don’t know what I would do if something happened to you.”

“Peter, what happened?” You repeated, crossing your arms. “At the fire. You know that I am perfectly capable of handling myself.”

He lets out a frustrated groan and buries his face in his hands, “I know that! Don’t you think I know that? But.. but out there, there are seriously messed up people that won’t go down from a pepper spray to the face.”

You softly gasped as he started to raise his voice, but you stood your ground, “Peter, what—”

“He said your name!”

The room was quiet now. Silence between you and Peter had always been comfortable, the kind that only two people that truly understood each other rejoiced in. But you didn’t like the silence that followed after Peter’s words. His eyes bloodshot, and the lips you absolutely adored wobbling.

“He said your name, Y/N..” Peter continued with his shaky voice. “Said he knew you.. that you were my weakness.. and then I was filled with so much rage I lost control and he still got away.”

“Oh, Peter.” You cried. Tears were now falling down your face too as you cradled Peter in your arms. He was bigger than you, but right now, a scared boy shivered in your embrace.

You could never be mad at him. Not truly. And you understood where he was coming from. You would find yourself doing the same thing if you two switched places.

The two of you continued to hug each other in the dark, with silent tears running down your faces. But by the time you felt each other’s breathing to calm down, you two got up from the carpeted floor and you helped Peter get dressed.

It was quiet when you helped him out of his suit that smelled like smoke and into some fresh pairs of sweatpants and corny graphic t-shirt that he left by your place.

Eventually, you two settled on your bed, with Peter resting his head on your chest and you running your fingers through his chocolate curls. The silence was better this time around. But still, words need to be said and this was not some argument you two could just set aside for another day.

“Please don’t leave me.” You whispered and you felt Peter tense up.

“Never.” He found himself saying. But it was true. Peter could never leave you, no matter the circumstance.

“I love you so much, Pete..” You started. “And the guy from earlier was probably just some lowlife loser who starts fires with cheap hardware store gas.”

Peter’s contagious laugh rang softly in your ears and you continued your little speech. “So who the fuck cares about what he says? You’re a goddamn Avenger.”

Peter lifted his head and rested his chin by your stomach, “Yeah, but..”

“No buts, Parker,” You tutted. “I can kick some ass myself, ya know?”

Your boyfriend laughed once again and Peter found himself hovering over you. He placed a kiss on your nose as he laced one of your hands together.

“And I can teach you some sweet Spiderman moves.” Peter smiled against your lips and you found yourself mirroring his expression.

“I’m sorry. I’m an idiot for trying to break up with you.”

“There’s nothing to be sorry for, Pete.” You reassured him, squeezing his hand that was holding yours for extra measure.

You two fell asleep in each other’s arms after mindless talking and soft lingering kisses on each other’s lips. It was a cold summer night but Peter was right there, keeping your brittle heart warm.

[extremelyblackandwhite]

ascendance - 04

PAIRING: mob!bucky barnes x reader

WARNINGS: abduction, age gap (reader is 23, bucky is 37)

A/N: hello!! i hope you enjoy this new chapter as i dive more into bucky’s past. italics in this work symbolise a flashback in case anyone’s confused. hope you enjoy it xx

> NEXT CHAPTER | MASTERLIST

The entrance hall of the Barnes household was pilled up with people. Between his mum barking orders left to right and caterers bringing food in and out, the once silent room turned into a busy crossroads which meant James had retreated back to his room. He was sat down in his bed, cashmere black suit on and hair pushed back, Dead Souls opened on top his legs. He was lost in between the small black letters printed on the yellowing paper, so lost that the sound of his window opening went by him until a loud thump woke him up from his literary daze. Bucky looked up to see his younger sister, sat on the floor of his bedroom by the window with her dress partially on and hair messy due to the windy weather outside. He sighed, closing his book and putting it off to the side.

    - Can’t you climb into your own bedroom? - Bucky got up from bed, leaning down to help her back onto her feet.

    - Yours is closer. - she brushed the dirt off her baby pink dress picked by their mother. - Shouldn’t you be downstairs?

    - Shouldn’t you be in your bedroom? 

    - Touche. - she pointed. - Can you not tell mum? She’ll freak out if she discovers that I went out on dad’s big day. 

    - Go on, I’ll keep mum occupied while you sort out that bird’s nest hair. 

    - Thank you! - she smiled, giving him a short hug. - What am I gonna do when you go to Princeton? Who’s gonna cover for me?

    - I guess you’ll just have to form an alliance with the maids.

Y/N and Bucky were silent, barely speaking to each other if even looking into each other’s eyes. She merely remained there in her operatic costume, the corset doing the best of jobs at enhancing her female features and almost making her look like a femme fatale out of a classical movie in rich red and green fabrics decorated with what he guessed where heavy metal gold pieces resembling precious jewels and golden rings. He did not know which production they were putting on, he hadn’t even heard her sing before but she looked like she belonged in that stage, like she would have been showered in praise the moment the spotlight grazed her. 

She paced around the living room not exactly sure what to do, the beads which made up her skirt and would suddenly peak to show her legs making a slight rustling noise as her eyes studied the book shelf which was filled with tons and tons of books from the classics to mere economy books. Maybe she could read them whenever the tension between of them wasn’t so apparent. She couldn’t help but sometimes look at the badly fixed window and wonder if she could make it, maybe when he wasn’t looking, maybe when he was sleeping yet looking at him; tall, muscular, fast, definetely much stronger than her, she knew that even if she managed to get outside, he would easily get her back. Her mind battled her positive side as she wondered if this was it, if this was home now. Suddenly, her old flat no longer seemed old and she would give everything away if only she could go back, back to being told to do errands that really did not concern her, to stepping on bobby pins laid on the ground, to way too strong makeup which looked ridiculous in proper daylight. She would give everything, if she could go back to what her life had been. 

The man whose name he hadn’t even dignified himself to tell her yet was sat on one of the high chairs by the kitchen with his eyes trained on her. She briskly turned around, arms crossed under her chest with an almost child like pout of someone who had just been punished. In reality, I’m the one who’s being punished here, he thought to himself.

     - You could tell me your name. - she said, not looking into his eyes, instead rubbing her worn out ballet shoes against his hard floor. 

     - You don’t need to know my name. - he was quiet yet imposing. Y/N could not deny he seemed to have a strong presence despite barely raising his voice. It was almost magnetic as if he was made to be looked at, yet she felt he didn’t want to be seen. 

     - What if I need to call out for you? 

     - I would know. There’s no one else here, is it?

Y/N did not reply to this, instead rolling her eyes and sitting down on the couch. There was not much to do in the small one bedroom apartment other than pace around, eat and watch television. Her hand flew over to the remote, pointing it at the TV to turn it on which opened on the news channel. She guessed this was the way she had of now knowing what was happening outside the four walls she was being held captive in. There wasn’t much happening and even if it was, all the local news could talk about was about the upcoming mayoral election. It was a circus with advertisements and rumours flying around about each and every candidate and while it was almost painfully enjoyable to see men over thirty acting like gossip mean girls in school, everyone knew who was gonna win. 

She’d always been told that behind every great man, there’s a great woman and in this particular election it couldn’t be anymore true. The favourite candidate to win, Robert Moore, also known as Bobbie, was married to an senator’s daughter but not just any senator, Senator Barnes. She was too young to remember his policies or even his public persona, yet from what she knew, he had been a very well liked and well respected Senator, coming from a prominent family and building an even more prominent family. Being married to Rebecca Barnes, now Rebecca Barnes-Moore, was a one way ticket to a good career in politics. The two stood in the television screen, side by side in an almost JFK and Jackie Kennedy fashion with sunny smiles looking like the picture perfect Americana couple. It seemed all his ads showed him, his wife and their new born baby. High school sweethearts, it seemed.

    - Are you gonna watch that the whole day? - she turned her head around, looking at his annoyed expression, whiskey glass in hand. 

    - They look good together. 

    - It’s a circus. - he snickered, sitting by her side. 

    - What are you? An anarchist? - those words flew out of her mouth without any filter, mostly out of nuisance. - Her father was a great politician and he is young and likeable.  

     - Young and likeable ... sounds like great political traits. 

     - What do you know about politics?

     - What do you know about politics? Do they have a crash course in politics at whatever company you were in? 

She rolled her eyes, turning the volume up to listen to the broadcaster tell the love story of the future mayor and his wife. Her face softened as she heard what was probably a highly modified version of the actual truth yet she couldn’t help but slightly smile at the idea of it. They seemed in love and as someone who had a degree in pretending to be in love while singing, it warmed her heart to see it. She liked that idea, the idea of Ms and Mrs Americana, the idea of having someone to lean in. Well, she liked the idea of someone. Sure, maybe the man whose name she still didn’t know and was starting to believe was never going to learn was right, it was a circus, all elections are but she couldn’t help but be pulled by the myth of it, by the we against the world mentality no matter how morally wrong it was. 

She continued to watch the coverage of the election run as the man next to her got up from the couch to pick up a phone call. Her hearing slightly moved towards what he was doing, mind always thinking of escaping but even though he was talking on the phone, his gaze was trained of her as if she were his prey. He mumbled something on the phone before turning it off and moving his eyes to text someone yet after that his eyes were on her once more. 

    - Try not to escape for the next hour.

    - Do you have a nameless anarchy convention to attend?

    - Billy is coming to watch over you. No funny business. 

    - Will. - she corrected him. - He doesn’t like being called Billy. 

    - As long as you don’t pull a mission impossible on him, I will call him whatever you want. 

Will didn’t take long to arrive, dressed in a tennis-like outfit as if he had been pulled away from tennis which sounded like something he’d do. Bucky exchanged a few words with him before leaving the two of them together. He trusted Billy, or Will, was smart enough not to let her escape or run away. God, he didn’t even want to think about what John would do to him if she escaped, much less what he would do to her if she escaped. He made his drive to John’s condo in fifth avenue, parking his bike somewhere before making his way up. The condo was always weirdly filled with chatter talk yet he could see no people, it was as if the ghosts of the people he had taken out followed him in his own home and Bucky couldn’t say he pitied him. After all, he had his own ghosts too. 

He looked into John’s office where he was sat in the couch, the coverage of the election run on the television on low volume. John’s eyes immediately found Bucky’s figure looming at the entrance, never really entering, just standing behind the line which separated the hall from the office. 

     - How’s the roomie? - he motioned his hand for him to come in. - Still pretty?

     - What do you need?

     - I just got an invitation to a fundraiser. Zemo’s going so I want you to go. 

     - I can’t, I have her to watch over Y/N. She’s not very keen on remaining in the flat.

    - Chain her up for all I care. It’s in two weeks and I’ll be damned if I’m there by myself with Zemo. Besides it’s your sister’s fundraiser, I always love to see Rebecca. 

    - She’s not gonna be there. - his jaw locked. - A fundraiser for the mob? It’s mostly free alcohol and networking with them not showing up. 

    - Maybe you should bring your roomie. She’s pretty and if anything I’m sure she can sing and if not maybe she can entertain in another form. 

    - The NYPD is probably looking for her, it’s not wise ...

    - Do you make the rules? - John interrupted him, leaning against the couch with arms crossed. - You seem to have forgotten who makes the rules, soldat. 

    - I just don’t think ...

    - You don’t think. - he interrupted him once more. - This election is important and since I do not have the right person here to get ahead, I will make do with what we have. I don’t give a fuck about what you do when you’re at your flat but she is mine. She is my get out of jail card. Are we clear, soldat?

    - Yes. 

    - You can go now. - he dismissed him. Bucky turned around, eyes open wide yet emotionless face as if he were disconnected from his own consciousness. He guessed it was for the best to remain disconnected, to not know what was going on.

He drove himself back home, standing alone at night looking at his flat; the window still broken while the lights were flickering. He thought about running off, starting his bike and running off into the night and just drive until the tank was empty but he couldn’t. He had strings, strings which kept him tied to where he was right now. He guessed that now she was another string keeping him here. 

Bucky sighed as he walked back to his flat, opening the door to a rather serene sight. Will was by the kitchen watching the football game while Y/N was laid across the couch, book in hand which he recognised as one of his old ones. Her hair was different, she probably had taken off her wig and for the first time since those few minutes in the costume room. It looked soft, framing her face and getting in front of her eyes as she herself got lost in the room. Will excused himself, leaving just as he noticed Bucky before he could be yelled at by using his television. Yet again, Y/N and Bucky were alone in that small flat. She looked up from the book and at him before returning to read.

He left her with the book, walking to his bedroom which was probably now more hers than his to grab one of trousers and hoodies before returning back to the living room. Still reading. At least she wasn’t trying to break any more windows. He put the hoodie and trousers by her side, turning off the television as more screams for the football match came through. 

   - You can change into those. - he pointed at the clothing, getting her attention as she closed the book. - Those beads can’t be comfortable. 

   - Oh 

   - The bathroom’s there. - he pointed at one of the few doors in the flat. - You can shower too, there’s towels. 

   - Thank you. - she grabbed the things he had put out for her before leaving him in the living room by himself.

And then it was just him once more, alone, tied to this city which screamed everyone’s name but his.

TAGLIST: @lookiamtrying​ @buckyswillows​ @blossomslibrary​ @juliesland​ @iloveshawnieboi​ @unmagically​ @red-head011​ @poisonous00​ 

[helpistolethesecharacters]

Death Does Not Discriminate Between The Sinners And The Saints

It Takes And It Takes And It Takes

Part 2

Tony Stark x Male Demon Reader

Word Count: 3609

@charliedakotariley I hope this is all you wanted in your original request. Sorry I took so long to get to the actual stuff you put in your request. I hope you enjoy this!

-----------

Y/n didn't know what was going on. One moment he had been fighting Thanos's forces in Wakanda, the next, everything was getting weird. Enemies were turning to dust all around him. Worse than that, so were some of his allies.

It was bad enough that he had been separated from Tony, but now he wasn't sure if he would ever see him again. Who ever had done this was going to regret it if Tony was dead.

Y/n took a step, but before his foot even connected with the ground he was gone.

The next thing he knew he was waking up in the fields outside the city, alongside all the others. Everyone was pretty much in panic mode until a man with a deep red cloak started floating and took control.

Apparently they had been gone for five years, but more than that, there was an even bigger battle ahead of them than the one that they had just been in.

The floating guy did some odd form of magic that opened up a portal into another place. Y/n knew that then was not the time, but he felt himself go all giddy at the thought of real magic! Maybe after all this he could learn some!

The floating guy had introduced himself at some point, Y/n was sure, but he hadn't caught it and now didn't really seem like the time, so he just mentally dubbed him 'Floating Man' and moved on.

Then they were all rushing into battle, and Floating Man was not wrong. It was brutal, but Y/n couldn't help but feel he was in the wrong place. There was somewhere he needed to be, a tug inside that was pulling almost to the point of pain.

Y/n growled and dropped his perception filter, it was just draining him and he had more important things to worry about. He used the pause in onslaught to do a spin that sent a large swathe of enemies flying. Thank God for his tail, he had missed being able to give his all in battle.

In the space he had just given himself, he spun slower, looking for where it was he needed to go.

Y/n knew immediately exactly where he was meant to be. Tony was about to tackle Thanos.

Y/n smashed his tail as hard as he could into the ground and using the momentum of the shockwave caused by it, he leapt over the battlefield.

His eyes widened in horror as he watched Tony sass the mad titan. He had those damned infinity stones just about in place on his Iron Man glove. He would die if he tried to use them!

Y/n slammed into Tony at full force and wrapped himself around the stupid self-sacrificing genius just as he snapped his fingers. The energy coursed through the two beings and Y/n could feel it trying to overcome them. He knew there was a price for holding such power, but he wasn't about to let Tony pay it on his own.

He held on tighter and let out a roar, forcing himself to hold on and not be torn apart by the power of the stones.

"Don't you dare give up on me Tony! We'll go out of this world together or not at all, do you understand me?"

And then it was over. Thanos's armies were defeated, turned to dust, as was the mad titan himself.

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

It had been five years since the Avengers had managed to bring everyone back and Y/n still couldn't believe how lucky he had been. If he had been even just a second later in getting to Tony, he might not have made it.

As it was his heart had taken some serious damage, and Y/n hadn't come out of it scot-free either. He had aged noticeably.

Where he had looked near his mid twenties for centuries, he now looked to be closer to forty than thirty, but he would never consider the alternative. What were a few hundred years to him when he would get to wake up in Tony's arms because of his actions.

But he could no longer ignore the thing that had been bothering him for the last ten or so years. Tony was getting older. And, ignoring magical space stones and stupid ideas, Y/n was not.

Every morning Y/n could see more differences. Tony was aging, and normally that wouldn't be a bad thing, after all, it means that he's alive to have the chance to age, but it was becoming more apparent as the days passed, and Y/n couldn't help but realise that one day in the not so distant future he was going to be without Tony once again. Forever this time.

Everyday as he noticed the changes in Tony, Y/n became a little quieter, a little more withdrawn. He didn't want to waste the time he had left with Tony, but the spectre of death was looming ever nearer, and this time there was no other realm to break into to solve the problem.

Y/n had felt a momentary surge of hope when he remembered the gift the Queen of Asgard had promised him, but that was extinguished when he remembered what had happened to Asgard.

The sinking in his chest was getting worse. There was a pain that was consistent, a deep thrum inside that wouldn't go away. Whenever he thought about the future, or Tony dying it came back. He could sometimes forget about what was coming, but he would inevitably be reminded and the pain would resurface.

Y/n thought fleetingly of his more carefree days, when all he wanted was to cause as much chaos as he could, and he could just swan away from it without a backward glance. Tony had made him so much more than that, without even trying. He had made him feel things and there wasn't a day that went by when Y/n could bring himself to regret meeting Tony.

But that sweet joy and love was now soured by the passage of time, and Y/n wasn't sure how much more he could take.

How could the mix of love and time bring so much pain and joy. Why could he not just have the joy, why did the pain have to come with it?

Y/n was standing in their kitchen when it happened. He was hit with a wave of pain so deep he buckled at the feeling. He had just taken another message from Tony's doctor about not putting too much strain on his heart, and he couldn't help the hopeless feeling washing over him.

He could feel time slipping through his fingers, and there was nothing he could do to slow it down.

His heart gave a particularly hard thump as his emotions got the better of him.

Y/n felt a searing pain starting in his chest that was physical rather than the almost unbearable emotional pain he had been dealing with. He gasped as tears dripped down his face. He only noticed when a hissing noise came from the ground by his feet, that the tears weren't the normal salty water, but actual lava.

It clicked suddenly, what was happening to him, but Y/n couldn't think through the fugue of his feelings. He had heard of it in stories but never seen it in person. Demons don't normally fall in love, so they aren't affected by things like the deep depression of watching someone you love die when there isn't anything you can do.

The thing is, demon's hearts are literally made of super heated volcanic rock. Demons were never made to deal with such strong emotions, so when a demons heart breaks, it happens literally. Lava erupts from anywhere it can force it's way out, then it starts to break down the rest of the body. As far as the stories are concerned, there might be a way to save them before they have broken down entirely, but no-one had managed it yet.

The stories hadn't prepared Y/n for the pain, but after so long only feeling hopelessness and despair, Y/n welcomed this new pain. Finally, something had come to save him from the eternity that was a future without Tony.

He could feel the lava in the burnt out husk that used to be his heart flare brighter as another wave of heat seared through him. The lava was actually burning away the blood that had been running through his veins.

Y/n had to get out of there. He couldn't do anything about the trails of melted stone that his tears were leaving behind, but he couldn't let Tony see this.

He would be with him again in their next life.

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

Tony was starting to worry. He had been sticking a bit closer to Y/n lately because he had noticed the other man acting strangely. He seemed more and more sad as the days went by. This was something that Tony had needed to keep an eye on. He didn't want to lose Y/n to something that he could help to fix.

He hadn't thought much of it when the other man had rushed out of the room to grab the phone when it rang that morning, but it had been a while since then and Y/n hadn't come back yet.

He heaved himself off of the couch and groaned at the distance.

"God, it's a long way up these days."

He had only taken half a step in the direction his wayward husband had gone when Friday alerted him to a news broadcast of unusual activity on one of the islands off the coast closest to where they were at the moment.

He watched in disbelief as the news caster reported a seeming impossibility. The island was apparently home to a volcano, which was erupting. It was pure luck that it was an uninhabited island, but there would be far reaching results of the eruption.

Tony turned up the volume with a flick of his wrist.

"This is particularly baffling for scientists everywhere as this island has never been on anyone's radar for volcanic activity. Apparently this is just another case of nature getting the better of our understanding of science, which will have our scientists scratching their heads for decades. We have managed to get some footage of the eruption from a distance, and it is a truly harrowing sight."

Tony was transfixed. It really was awe inspiring to see something like that right in front of him. He couldn't help but feel a sinking sensation. There was no way that it was a coincidence that his literal demon husband was missing right as this was happening, right?

"Y/n?"

Tony made his way into the kitchen, calling out for this husband at the same time. He was getting really worried now, but was trying to calm himself. Everything was probably fine.

Tony tripped over something and landed sprawled on the ground. He looked around to find the offending item, but was met with the sight of their kitchen floor melted in a trail that led right out of the room.

Tony followed it with mounting fear. It led out their front door. After that the trail got further apart the further away from the house it got.

Tony swore as he summoned his suit. He hated being right.

---------

Tony was starting to think that fate hated him. Okay, to be fair he couldn't fault fate for sending him Y/n, but the demon could be the biggest drama king. Yes, Tony was aware that that was kind of like the pot calling the kettle black, but that didn't change the fact that it was true.

He was circling the island now, because of course the trail of fire and melted ground had led him there.

Tony let out another string of expletives as he flew close enough to land.

The island looked like what Tony though hell would look like. There were puddles of lava everywhere, and anything that wasn't a melted pile of rock was on fire or long ago burnt to ash. Tony was sweating in his suit, but he also knew that taking it off, even just the head piece, would be a death sentence.

"Y/N!"

He yelled as loud as he could, which, with the suit already amplifying his voice, was pretty loud.

There was movement from something off to his left.

Tony shifted to face it and was confronted with a sight that broke his heart. His sweet husband, always so concerned for Tony, was clearly breaking apart.

He had burn tracks down his cheeks where his skin hadn't been strong enough to withstand the lava. Y/n looked every bit the demon he had been when he first showed Tony what he was. He must have dropped the perception field once again, because Tony could see all of his demonic features. The horns which had once been shiny and sharp enough to gore even super soldiers, were now dull and flaking, just as broken as the man they were attached to.

Tony could see Y/n's chest glowing with the reds and oranges of fresh lava from where he stood.

Tony was frozen. He didn't know what he could do to fix this. But there had to be hope still, Y/n had recognised his voice even if he might not have understood the word.

"Stay there! I'll be right back. We're going to fix this, don't give up on me yet Y/n!"

After some quick thinking, Tony managed to concoct a plan that was only semi-crazy.

He flew as fast as he could in a tight circle just close enough to the ocean to encourage some of the water to form into a whirlwind of water and air. Once he had enough (he hoped), he sent it flying in the direction of his husband and the island.

He stood back and watched, sick fear pooling in his stomach as he saw the water hit. There was intense hissing and a fog filled the air in response to the water coming into contact with such a hot substance.

Tony couldn't wait any longer, so he landed as close as he could get to the place Y/n had been standing.

He found him laying in a puddle of water staring up into the fog. Tony removed the suit's head piece and both gauntlets, discarding them without a second thought.

He reached out to Y/n with shaking hands.

"What were you doing? What happened?"

Y/n turned deadened eyes on Tony.

"Time is a cruel Master who we must all answer to."

Tony had no idea what to do with that, but he really didn't like the look in Y/n's eyes.

"Yeah, but not today. You see that bastard, you kick his ass, you hear me?"

That got a tiny spark of life back into Y/n's eyes.

"Tony? How?"

Tony could have sobbed in relief. Y/n was coming back to him.

"Hey babe, I should be asking you that."

Tony pulled Y/n up into his arms. It was awkward with him still mostly in his suit but he wasn't about to take the time to remove it. He had a husband to bring back from the brink of something he still didn't understand.

"You gonna be alright?"

Y/n just burrowed into the side of Tony's neck.

"You scared the crap outta me, Y/n/n. What was that?"

Tony let Y/n pull back just enough to be able to see him. He wasn't letting the other man out of his arms for a long time after this.

"You can't deny it Tony, time is passing. I just couldn't bear the thought that you will pass so long before I will."

Tony felt his brow crease in confusion, but he waited for his love to continue.

"As a demon I have a much longer life span as you know. When you die I will be all alone. You'll be gone, forever. How am I supposed to live without you now that I know what it's like to live with you?"

Tony felt his heart breaking for Y/n. He could understand where he was coming from, but that still didn't explain this situation. He opened his mouth to question him when Y/n continued.

"Demons don't normally feel emotions as strong as love, and the loss that comes with it. We aren't built for it. Our hearts can overload. When that happens, they literally melt inside us. I'd been told the stories, but to be honest I didn't realise there was any truth in them."

He took a shuddering breath.

"When I realised what was happening, all I could think was that I couldn't take you with me when I died from it. So I left."

Tony let out a long breath.

"Okay, there's a lot to unpack there, but a steaming crater in the middle of nowhere isn't the place to do it. Let's get you home."

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

True to his word, Tony had barely let Y/n go since they got back home. He had whisked him through the kitchen with barely enough time for him to take in the ruined floor before he found himself on the couch wrapped in a blanket with Tony wrapped around that.

"Next time, tell me. Next time something is bothering you like this, let me in. There might be something I can do to help, but even if there isn't, we would still shoulder that problem together. There's nothing I would rather do, than try to help lighten the load."

Y/n vaguely registered the words. They sounded familiar to some distant corner of his mind, but he was still feeling pretty numb.

"Together, or not at all," Y/n echoed his words from that long ago battle.

He was rewarded by a soft squeeze from his husband.

"Exactly. Now, before you get all mopey again, there's a message from someone in New Asgard on the machine."

Y/n's head snapped up. There was no way it could be related to this.

He turned to Tony, feeling hope well up in his heart.

----------

In the years since Valkyrie had become ruler of New Asgard, the kingdom had flourished. Perhaps their greatest feat had been the resurgence of magic in their peoples. Battle prowess had been the sought after trait for centuries on Asgard, but now they were on a planet that wasn't capable of inter-realm travel. There was nowhere to go and fight monsters to prove their worth.

Once they realised that their new ruler was trying to bring them back to their former glory instead of just making sure that they survived, they began to take charge of their own lives. They dusted off old tomes of magic that had somehow found their way into the belongings people had managed to bring with them, and soon the vast majority of them were once again using magic.

The reason this had been their saving grace, was because a young woman, a descendant of Idunn, had been playing around with her magic and followed a strange magical signature.

What she had found had brought the people of New Asgard hope. Hope that they could once again be great. She had found a single golden apple, buried in the wreckage of the Avengers compound. It had been protected by a spell strong enough to save it from the battle of Thanos, as well as the passage of time.

A note had been rolled up and stuffed into the box with it.

"Man of Iron,

The Queen of Asgard has bequeathed the enclosed item to you upon the occasion of her death. You are receiving it now, due only to the petty revenge it is to give such a boon to a human. Be grateful it is more pleasing to me to disobey the All-Father than to seek revenge on you for your part in my imprisonment on Asgard.

Loki, Ruler of Asgard."

The young woman had immediately taken the box, note and all, to Valkyrie. The decision would ultimately be up to her of what to do with it.

Valkyrie had decided that the needs of her people could be served at the same time as fulfilling the late Queens last wishes. It would just take a little longer to get it to Stark.

They had used the seeds to re-grow Idunn's orchard of golden apples. The Aesir would be able to retain their long life after all. Now that they had an entire orchard, they had enough for their people as well as fulfilling Queen Frigga's last wish that Tony Stark be granted the long life of an Aesir.

----------

When Y/n and Tony arrived in New Asgard they were amazed at the transformation the previously small fishing village had gone through. Y/n smiled at the area. It would never be the same as what they had lost, but they had the opportunity to build themselves a new future and they had taken it with both hands.

Y/n stood in the orchard, tears running down his face as he held out a single golden apple to his husband.

Tony had been unsure when Valkyrie had explained about the apples, how they were the source of the Aesir's long life and more sturdy bodies.

He hadn't known how he would feel about living a longer life than all the other people he knew, but as he stood in front of Y/n, looking at the life he was offering him, he realised he would never choose anything else. As long as he had Y/n he could survive anything.

He stepped forward and accepted the apple.

[bleufrost]

There's Just Time (A Loki x reader Fanfic)

Chapter One: We've Met Before

Summary: You were an explosion waiting to happen who found love in the arms of a hurricane. Loki saw you as an angel that calmed his demons. For you, he was a savior that taught you to trust your abilities, yourself, and others. When he died, you were broken. You clung to any hope possible and watched as it all fell away. With nothing left, stories from your youth flooded back of a mysterious force that controlled time and space, and you knew that you would do anything to see him again...even if that something meant teaming up with the Time Variance Authority to capture the man you love.

A series of murders catch Mobius' eye. A familiar face catches yours.

Words: 3,118

Warnings: grief, mentions of self harm, death

Prologue

If you'd searched the whole wide world

Would you dare to let it go?

The pews of this church were far less comfortable than you could have possibly imagined. You let your feet dangle for a moment before pushing them up on to the pew in front of you. A bored yawn echoes in the empty halls and your eyes fall closed as the workers around you continue to struggle to make sense of the scene. When you try to breathe, you notice that the air is far too still.

“It’s great to see you making yourself useful.” The soft sound of shoes stop steadily next to your seat. With an annoyed huff, you push your feet down and sit up, looking at Mobius.

“I could be far more useful if you’d let me use my goddamn powers.” He sighs and stares down at his watch. “You know I can’t do that. Now come on, you’re a smart kid. What does this all look like to you?”

Your eyes don’t leave him for a few seconds. There was a time where you would have tried to run off; take what you needed to jump from place to place and find Loki on your own. Not now though. You know these people are far more powerful than they let on. You know that you need them if you’re ever going to see him again.

With that in mind, you walk over to the candlelit section, Mobius following closely behind. The bodies are spread out on the floor, each with wounds in a pattern far too familiar. Gunshots were never your forte. Stab wounds on the other hand, you were taught well by the best on how to both treat and inflict.

“They were stabbed.” He nods and squats down to inspect the wounds of one body more closely.

“They’re all consistent with the others. Look at the position of the bodies.” Your eyes glance over each of them. Some look defensive, but in a sudden way. Almost as if…”They didn’t know something was coming to them until it was too late. It was a blindside.” Mobius rises and pats your shoulder. It makes you uncomfortable, he’s trying desperately to be your friend and you don’t really know why. You both knew you weren’t here because it was your first option.

“That makes six attacks this week.” Your fingers tingle with the need to feel something. If you could just tap into the energy here, it could make everything so much easier. There is endless knowledge in the atmosphere of a room, especially one where such horrific things occurred. It was infuriating that they you couldn’t use a part of yourself that you had learned to depend on.

“Those are just the ones we know of.” Mobius walks around the side of the room again, just in time for your frustration to bubble over. You stare him down and, even without your abilities, you know he can feel the anger that courses through you.

“I thought you guys were all knowing.” You step toward Mobius and one of the soldiers lifts his gun. Mobius quickly puts a hand up to order him to stand down. He walks closer to you, arms up in attempt to defuse the situation. His patience pisses you off even more.

“This is a variant we’re talking about. You know better than most that those aren’t so well regulated.” He watches you closely as your jaw clenches. He’s right and you know it. It’s just felt like an eternity since any sign of Loki has come up. You were on edge, without your powers, and working with people you didn’t fully trust. Playing it cool was the only way to keep your position as Mobius’ partner though, and you had to remember that.

“Right.” You nod and turn away right as the shuffle of feet sounds from down the hall. A small child runs by and Mobius follows, along with a few of the crew. You’re not so quick to see what’s going on though. Right now, you need to think. The bodies around you were alarming. The stab wounds even more so. There was no way that Mobius didn't recognize the same signs you did, but you weren't about to broadcast it with the small chance that he didn't already know.

You had been working with Mobius for a little while now. You weren’t exactly sure how long because time has a weird tendency to move differently at the TVA. It was long enough to establish that, while you weren’t the most fond of him, he held a certain faith in you that the others lacked. Still, something was off, you just didn’t know what yet.

That’s what made all of this even more concerning. If your suspicions were even close to correct about the recent murders…you knew where your loyalties were held, and it wasn’t with Mobius or the TVA. Loki was somewhere out there. For a brief moment, before you had your powers stripped from you, you could almost feel him. It was the connection to his energy that tethered you to him when you first met, and it was a similar one to what called you to him back at the revisit to New York. There was something that kept hope in you that he was still alive, and the feeling stayed with you until the moment you entered the TVA.

Every once in a while, out here in the field, you think you can still feel little shards of it.

Your mind stops wandering when you see Mobius take something from the child to be examined. It was a little blue package, but the glowing teeth on the child are what really catch your eye. You make it just in time to see the kid point out the stained-glass imagery of the devil. Horns protrude from his head like a crown. It all felt too familiar: the god-like being, horned crown, stab wounds, and tricky nature of a blind attack. The anger, the mistrust. Your eyes can’t seem to tear away for a second, but when they do, you can’t help but stare at this kid. Something was definitely not right. Why was he so calm?

Mobius watches you from his place by the doorway and takes it all in. You can see it when you look back at him; the knowing look he gives you. It’s unsettling to think that your thoughts are so easily deciphered when you don’t have your shield to hide behind. He doesn’t ask any questions though, and for that you’re almost grateful. He says something else to the kid, but you aren’t listening anymore.

“Alright, let’s head out.” Mobius takes your arm and guides you back to the main hall. Part of you thinks these little gestures are to establish trust. Mobius truly has given you no real reason to dislike him. As a person, he appears inherently good. Without your ability to read him though, you never know what to trust. The fact that they seem adamant to keep them from you, while not his decision, makes you weary of the whole organization.

“Any of that seem odd to you?” He looks between your face and the rest of the room quickly. You know he’s trying to make it seem like he’s not watching you that closely, even though he is. Keeping your face as steady as you can, you choose your words carefully. Focus on the gum, not the horns. Not the stab wounds.

“Yeah, the gum was weird as shit. Definitely not the usual candy for this time period.” You brush his arm off of you and move your body around to feign looking over the church in attempt to hide the action. “You never know though, they might be more modern than we think.” He watches you with a straight face that breaks out into a smile instantly. Mobius nods and grins at you.

“I agree. No time variance there.” His voice is sarcastic and playful in that moment, but his face falls serious again. “What about the devil?”

You do everything in your power to not flinch or make any indication of discomfort at the question. “What about the devil? I feel like it could be a clue, but it could also just be some kid who learned from a very early age that any evil is done by a creature with hooves who lives in hell.” He continues to watch you and you continue to be as nonchalant as possible.

Finally, he nods. “Maybe.” Mobius turns and you pause to breathe for a moment before following him back to the TVA.

Upon your arrival, things move incredibly fast. Thoughts of the case are abandoned in favor of a much more urgent matter.

A call came in immediately. Before you even had a moment to settle yourself back into the usually stale atmosphere of TVA headquarters, Mobius was rushing you into a room. You almost miss the fact that the air is not stale in the slightest; in fact, it almost felt as though it was crackling with electricity.

“I need to know that you won’t do anything stupid.” The words left his mouth with urgency. The constant glances over his shoulder to the awaiting hall a clear sign that he knew something you didn’t.

Your eyebrows scrunch in confusion, “What are you talking about?” He turns and paces the floor. Once. Twice. Three times before his movements halt.

“The Loki you know isn’t here. He never will be. You understand that, right?” His device flashes in his hand. You don’t know what the flashes mean, but you do know what he’s implying. Loki’s here. Somewhere in this building. In the same general place that you are. Loki is here.

Mobius continues to wait for a response. His foot taps with impatience. “When I took you in, we promised each other that our partnership wasn’t over when we found him. You can’t go rogue on me or this is all over for everyone, do you understand?”

Your breaths come out in rapid little puffs as your mind tries to wrap itself around the unspoken truth here. Mobius is right in theory. This isn’t the Loki you knew at the time you lost him originally. This Loki is still afraid. He’s angry, hurt, confused, and so far from trusting you. Where Mobius is wrong though, is in thinking you aren’t familiar with him at all. You know Loki in all forms, and if it takes a little extra time to make up for lost memories, that would be more than okay with you.

“Hey, I need an answer.” Mobius’ voice was barely registering with you, but you heard it. He’s on edge and you almost panic at the thought of potentially not seeing Loki as soon as possible if Mobius doesn’t think you can handle it.

“I understand and I’m not going to do anything stupid.” You can’t speak the words fast enough and as Mobius searches your eyes for any sign of deceit, you know all he sees is honest desperation. You would do anything to be with him again. That’s the truth.

With an affirming nod, Mobius leads the way to a section you recognize as the courtroom.

The air here is thick, almost unbreathable. The crackles turn to little sparks as you near the doors. How is it that in a place that banishes magic, Loki can still make the ghost of yours come to life? To say that you aren’t prepared to see him again would be an understatement. You traveled through time itself to be near him again, but the prospect of achieving that goal never actually felt like a fantasy you could fully entertain. How very like him to bring your wildest dreams to fruition in the most obscure of moments. Your thoughts all come to a sudden halt when you hear the faint sound of the most narcissistic angel to ever utter a word.

“…because they traveled through time. No doubt in a last ditch effort to stave off my ascent to god king,” Your mouth falls open in silent shock. Of course the first thing you hear from him in years is an accusation, you assume, to have you arrested instead of him.

Your gaze falls on him and you feel a weight lift off your shoulders as you see him, truly see him, moving, speaking, and having just as big a flair for the dramatics as usual. He’s here. He’s alive. He’s okay.

Mobius nudges you to follow him and you both attempt to silently take your seats in the rows lining the courtroom. Your heart pangs as Loki mentions Tony, but you sit and listen, nonetheless. He continues to argue with the judge, bringing up your old team and reminding you of just how much things have changed irreparably.

“Perhaps you can provide me with a task force and resources, and I can return and eliminate them for you.” His hands are spread confidently, but they immediately fall when you let out a short laugh. The comment caught you off guard and a part of you loved that he still thought he could squash your team so easily. Even after all that happened in New York, he never gave up and you loved that about him; even if his determination was a bit misplaced at the moment. Loki is nothing if not confident in his abilities to charm and disarm.

Your hands fly to your mouth immediately when you realize that the majority of the courtroom is staring at you.

That’s when it happens. His gaze pierces into you like a dagger, sharp and oh so welcome to do whatever damage it pleases. Your hand goes down, stopping at your chest where you can feel your heart pounding. Tears slowly well up in your eyes, but you blink them away as quickly as they came.

Loki tilts his head to the side subtly. You know he recognizes you and you know your lame attempt to hide your pain and love was seen right through. He doesn’t say anything though. Even though he was just offering to hunt your team down for sport and turn you in to gain his freedom, he says nothing to indicate you should be on trial. Instead, his eyebrows scrunch together, and he continues to stare at you. There seems to be a hint of sadness in his eyes, but you know you’re just imagining it.

The judge clears her throat, calling the attention of the room back to her. Loki’s eyes slowly move from yours. You continue to watch him though. It isn’t irrational to fear he might disappear at any moment. Not with him, and definitely not here.

You barely listen as he learns many of the same things you previously did about the Time-Keepers and his inability to use magic here. His attempts to conjure his daggers pulls your focus, but not in the same way a conversation would. No, you swear that you feel the frustration and utter helplessness that courses through him. You know the feeling, but this rushes over you just as fresh as the day you lost your powers. You can't be feeling it from him though, and that is reestablished in your mind as his magic fails to conjure.

What does call your attention is the sentencing that Loki receives and the sheer panic of potentially losing him again. You move to rise, ready to put up a fight because you know that being this close and failing is not something that you want to survive. In that moment, you don’t care if they kill you instantly. You just can’t live in a world without him. Not again. If you could find a way for him to escape, a way to feel him one more time and know that there is a chance that he could be okay, that he could live and learn to love again…well, death wouldn’t be so bad at all.

Before anything could happen though, Mobius pushes you back into place with a firm hand and rises. He runs over to the stand, speaking to the judge in whispers that you can’t decipher. Your lip trembles and you choose to scan the room for an escape route instead of focusing on Mobius, and Loki’s impending doom. When you find Loki again, his eyes are fearful and searching just like yours. You’re too preoccupied to notice when his worried gaze lands back on you. You don’t see when the fear slips from him and turns to calmness for a reason that he can barely understand.

The few seconds that Mobius spends by the stand feel like a lifetime, but his words are worth the wait.

“Alright, Loki you’re coming with us.” You have never felt more grateful for the man in your time here. Mobius takes hold of a collared Loki and guides him to the door. Loki shrugs his hand off and glares at him. “Who is us?” You take that as your cue and rise to fall into step on the opposite side of Loki.

Loki’s eyes find you the moment you’re next to him. The first time you met back in New York, you were young and still in training to fight. They had put you in the field out of desperation. When you came face to face with Loki then, you had felt small and insignificant. His confusion when he wasn’t able to control you had sparked a subtle interest in him, but you were still just an insignificant child in the eyes of a powerful god.

Now, standing next to him, you didn’t feel small in the slightest. You felt just as powerful as he had taught you to be. Even if he didn’t remember the endless time you spent together, the nights you cried over the torment your powers put you through and the days he could barely see himself through the monster he thought he was. Even if he had no memory of picnics in the park, dark nights spent teaching you to dance beneath the stars, movie nights, and laughing as you screamed lyrics at the top of your lungs in an effort to get your family to sing along (Tony, Wanda, and Thor often did); it was okay. All you needed was each other. The rest would fall into place.

“Hi. I think we’ve met before.” You give him a smile and continue walking beside them. Loki’s eyes don’t leave your face and you feel him staring as you all leave the courtroom behind. Finally, he shakes from his thoughts and offers you a soft nod.

“Yes. I believe we have.”

a/n: ahh first chapter done! I really hope you guys like this. please feel free to leave any feedback/suggestions you have to make my writing or story better. I appreciate any interaction so so much xx

Tags: @adefectivedetective @peachlobotomy666 @unfortunatelyymuggle @st6jimmyandtheidiots @cheydanoa @thenerdyniallgirl @jessalynjones1989 @00schasez @lunala-luvgood @floweaus @fangirltrash15 @bandsruinedmylife @mydelusionalworld-7 @uada-animus @randomfangirl7 @effmigentlywithachainsaw @drakesfiance @phantomr0se @payton-1-jones @letscici @strangemaximoff @hassbite @magi-no-aladdin @littlesouthernrebel @jessiejunebug @coppercorn-and-cauldron @orighami @wrappedinlokisarms @dark-night-sky-99 @unicornsandgliiitter @oatballsoffury @themusingsofmany @darkprincessloki92 @lokiedokiee @shegatsby @cherrygeek86 @beckymarvel

If you want to be added or taken off this list, just shoot me an ask!

[makeste]

BnHA Chapter 290: It’s Touya Time

Previously on BnHA: Iida and Hadou showed up like a couple of Pennsylvanias and Georgias to bail Shouto out at the last minute. Ochako and Toga had an exceptionally strange fight which consisted of Toga being all “guess what Ochako, I used your quirk to murder someone, how do you feel about that”, and Ochako being all “I do not like that”, to which Toga was all “:(”. There was some doll-stealing and some bookcase-yeeting, and then Toga left in tears because Ochako was all adamant that murder has consequences. Anyway so I have absolutely no idea what Toga is thinking now, but I guess we’ll have some time to stew on it, because we ended the chapter by cutting back to the Iida+Hadou+Shouto VS Afomura battle, which was interrupted by Gigantomachia and the LoV showing up like a bunch of Floridas to ruin everyone’s nice day.

Today on BnHA: Horikoshi hands the mic over to Dabi and is all “take it away, kid.” Over in Room 315 of Musutafu General, Rei is all “may I please watch some TV” and the hospital staff is all “sure”, and so she tunes in just in time to catch Todoroki Touya’s Peabody Award-winning documentary “Number One Hero, Number One Fraud: The Todoroki Enji Story”, which is being broadcast nationwide courtesy of Skeptic and his magic laptop. Meanwhile in Jakku, Dabi is all “I’M TOUYA, BITCHES”, and Shouto and Enji are all, “(゜◇�� )”, and Dabi is all, “anyway so just to sum it all up, because of how much of a jerk Endeavor was, I am now Evil.” Everyone continues to be all “(ﾟoﾟ)” except for Dabi, who is all “└(˘▾˘┌ )≡ ( ┐˘▾˘)┘≡┗( ˘▾˘)┛≡┏( ˘▾˘)┓≡┗( ˘▾˘)┛” for pretty much the rest of the chapter. Idk. Just let the man have his fun, guys. He’s waited a long time for this.

y’all I have a confession to make. I am technically not spoiled for this chapter thanks to my robustly paranoid system of spoiler-tag-filtering, which is extensive enough that it pretty much will catch whenever someone so much as breathes something even remotely new-chapter-related. that being said, I like to think that I am capable of making basic logical inferences! and so the fact that for the past 36 hours, my dashboard has pretty much nonstop consisted almost entirely of this...

...has led me to conclude that MAYBE, POSSIBLY, PROBABLY, BUT ALSO DEFINITELY, a certain someone is finally going to reveal his ~secret identity~ woop woop. lmao

anyway so everyone, please remember to act surprised though, as we would not want Dabi’s feelings to be hurt at all. he has been planning this moment for the last decade or so and I wouldn’t want him to feel like all of that effort was for naught. so just play along, okay. OH MY, IF IT ISN’T THE LEAGUE OF VILLAINS’ MYSTERIOUS DABI. WHATEVER COULD HIS ARRIVAL POSSIBLY BE HERALDING, I JUST DON’T KNOW

“Dabi’s Dance” lmao. I’m sticking with Touya Time myself. ngl I had this recap title planned out for at least the past year or so. just waiting for that day to finally come

anyway so some people in some building somewhere are all “TURN OFF THE TV IN ROOM 315” and idk. I’m guessing the LoV is hacking the airwaves to livestream the reveal, as predicted

-- oh shit. UHHHHHHHH

did she always have this TV or did she get it just recently?? jfc of all the times for the hospital staff to finally loosen up

um... so that’s... (・＿・；)

well but I mean, she was gonna find out one way or the other at some point though. like you can’t really just keep her locked up and isolated from all news of the outside world forever and ever and ever. granted, this isn’t exactly the ideal way for her to learn this particular bit of information, but it’s not really ideal for anybody else either! EXCEPT DABI, THAT IS. have yourself a day you funky little terrorist

oh shit what is this?? it’s not live???

over in Jakku, a red-faced, sputtering Dabi makes a frantic grab for Skeptic’s laptop. “WAIT, NO, JESUS, NOT THAT TAPE!”

lol. but seriously Dabi are you even wearing a shirt. like I’m not one to slutshame anyone bro, but it’s just, exactly what type of mood were you looking to set here??

anyway so we really are cutting back to Jakku now, and Gigantomachia is all, “MASTERS”! which, I wonder if he really did use the plural? that’s right Machia, both of them in one place now! that sure is convenient for you huh

lol what is this with all this AFO monologuing. you’re really gonna make me read through this when I’m sitting here all sleep-deprived from election week. JUST GET TO THE TOUYAS. WE WERE PROMISED TOUYAS!!

sigh

“tee hee it’s fucking hilarious how goddamn powerful I am now lol”

alas, in spite of myself I do have two serious takeaways from this. one is that AFO is still controlling most of Tomura’s body behind the scenes, which both does and doesn’t bode well for Tomura (like, at least he’s not dying, but the long-term implications of this for his free will and such certainly are not Good). and two is that this confirms that Ujiko did give Tomura at least one powerful mutant quirk, which explains why he was still so deadly and indestructible even when Aizawa was using Erasure on him (since Erasure doesn’t work on mutant quirks, just emitter and transformation ones)

MEANWHILE ON TODAY’S EPISODE OF “TODOROKI SHOUTO’S TERRIBLE, HORRIBLE, NO GOOD, VERY BAD LIFE”

I like how he doesn’t actually say that he can’t take on Gigantomachia. just that he can’t take on him and Afomura at the same time. that’s confidence, baby. that right there is why you always draft Todoroki Shouto in the first round for your fantasy team

HADOU!!!!

OOOH, TOMURA’S ALL “MAN, THIS GIRL’S WAVE POWERS AND THIS KID’S ICE POWERS ARE A SUPER-STRONG COMBO DAGNABBIT.” YESSS I LIKE THAT, TELL ME MORE ABOUT HOW COOL AND POWERFUL THEY ARE

HOT DAMN LOOK AT THAT

um but not to take away from this exceptionally cool moment or anything, but why is Endeavor dying and shouting “RUN” down there in the corner um

oh

excuse me. not to take away from How Bad This All Is, but!!

just a little, smol, IidaBaku for everyone. Iida, who apparently doesn’t know a damn thing about first aid and is all, “hmm that’s a pretty bad-looking puncture wound he has in his left shoulder there, I think I’ll just let his arm dangle freely like that and I won’t bother taking off his heavy gauntlets either. I mean. he’ll be fine, probably.” smh. at least Shouto probably cauterized the wounds

EXCUSE ME WHAT

TIME FOR MORE OF THAT GOOD OLD FASHIONED SHOUNEN RIDICULOUSNESS I GUESS LMAO. KACCHAN YOU HAVE A HOLE IN YOUR TORSO. THERE IS A HOLE IN YOUR TORSO, AND YOU LOST LIKE FOUR GALLONS OF BLOOD, BUT SURE. “PUT ME DOWN” HE SAYS. FIRST OF ALL, PUTTING ASIDE THE FACT THAT YOU ABSOLUTELY SHOULD NOT BE CONSCIOUS, THE FUCK ARE YOU EVEN GOING TO DO, LIE DOWN AT THEM?? LISTEN, YOU SWEET IDIOT. TAKE HEED, BELOVED DUMBASS!!

ah well. I guess he gets to watch the Touya Show now too then lol

LMAOOOO now Machia’s lifting Tomura carefully in his palm like a broken action figure and Spinner is all “THE FUCK, YOU LOOK LIKE DEATH WARMED OVER”

“oh hey there Spinner. well let’s see, I woke up from my three-month coma and destroyed a city, had my body incinerated, and am currently being possessed by a diabolically evil potato. but please, tell me more about everything you've been through”

AW YISS AND THE FOCUS NOW SHIFTS TO THE TODOROKIS. EVERYTHING IS PROCEEDING EXACTLY AS WE HAVE FORESEEN

Endeavor my dude. it’s as if you want to die here. also holy shit, that bit about his lungs definitely does not bode well for him either

MOTHERFUCKER

GO AHEAD AND SIGN YOUR OWN DEATH CERTIFICATE, WHY DON’T YOU!! FLAGS UPON FLAGS. JESUS CHRIST

meanwhile Dabi’s just waving at ‘em

lmaoooo please oh please Caleb please keep this ‘EYYYYYYY’, it’s fucking perfect kdlshk;hg

AHHHHHHHHHHHHH

(ETA: so as you will see very shortly, I completely missed this detail in my first read-through because I was so anxious to get to the reveal page, but THIS MOTHERFUCKER LITERALLY DOUSED HIMSELF WITH INSTANT HAIR DYE REMOVER THAT HE’S JUST BEEN CARRYING AROUND IN A LITTLE HIP POUCH APPRENTLY SINCE THE BEGINNING OF TIME. MOTHERFUCKER. I HAVE NO WORDS.)

IS THIS THE TIME. IS THIS THE MOMENT?! HERE IT COMES SLKFHS BRACE YERSELVES LADS

EYYYYYYYYYYYY

OKAY EVERYONE JUST LIKE WE PRACTICED!! SURPRISED FACES ON THREE! ONE... TWO... (•̪ o •̪) !! okay how was that

LMAO ENDEAVOR

at least Shouto looks properly stunned. Enji just looks like endeavor.exe just straight up stopped working

meanwhile Deku’s out here trying to do the math on this latest surprise family reveal! first Tomura is related to Nana, and now this. what’s next. who are you related to, Spinner. he rips off his boots to reveal engine legs and declares himself Iida’s long-lost uncle

oh shit Touya

it’s as if a million fanworks suddenly cried out in terror and were suddenly jossed. who knew that all this time he was secretly sporting a crop top scar

also, THIRTY?! holy shit son you been busy

la la la two-page spread of Touya casually driving the dagger into Endeavor’s hero career and rocking the foundations of hero society as we know it la la la

la la la!!!

OH IS THAT THE END OF THE STORY THEN

almost got confused for a sec. there’s two monologues happening at once here. Endeavor doesn’t even know that his dirty laundry is being aired out nation-wide as we speak ffffff

btw while I appreciate the close-ups of Enji and Shouto here for sure, ngl I would also really love to see everyone else’s reactions right now. SHOW ME BAKUGOU AND THE LOV YOU COWARDS

is his hair actually turning white all of a sudden?? your hair dye just reacts on command??

(ETA: in all seriousness though, the hell kind of hair dye was he using? all he has to do is pour a bottle of that stuff and not even lather it in and it’s just gone just like that?? what the fuck would have have done if it ever rained lmao.

and this motherfucker just goes and leaves the dye remover in afterwards, too. I have never dyed my hair in my life and even I can tell you that’s probably not a good idea, Dabi.)

is this it. is this the legendary Dabi Dance in action. lmfao

oh hey what the fuck

so you figured you’d just murder your innocent younger brother to get revenge on dad, huh. well that’s nice

is that really all there is to the origin story though?? feels like we’re still missing a huge chunk of it. what was it that finally sent him over the edge? or was the trauma of being created as Endeavor’s perfect little hero tool and then being subsequently rejected by him enough on its own? because I’m still kind of confused on the part where he goes from “abused and discarded by his father” to “killed thirty people and was plotting the murder of his own brother” to tell you the truth

(ETA: lmao the initial fandom reaction to this did not disappoint. listen guys. people can be traumatized and shaped by awful circumstances that are completely out of their control, and grow up to be people they wouldn’t have grown up to be if things had been better, and all of that absolutely sucks, but. it doesn’t mean they get a get-out-of-jail-free card for all of their future actions, either! the tragedy of this situation is that terrible things happened to Touya, and he then went on to do terrible things himself. the tragedy of it is that this is exactly how the cycle of abuse keeps repeating itself on and on and on. maybe one of the people Dabi killed had a child who will now grow up traumatized themselves, and potentially go on to pay it forward themselves when they grow up. the tragedy is that the eye-for-an-eye justice that Touya is seeking out won’t actually make anything better in the end. the tragedy is that we understand why Touya is so angry, but that anger has basically warped him into the gleefully sadistic dancing figure we see in this chapter who has stopped caring about anyone else’s pain or suffering and just wants his own revenge.

anyway. basically what I’m trying to say is that it’s possible for the concepts of “Todoroki Touya was an innocent child and a victim of abuse” and “Dabi is a grown-ass motherfucking adult who killed thirty people and PROBABLY NEEDS TO BE HELD ACCOUNTABLE FOR THAT” to coexist lol. like, y’all wanted your moral grey, well HERE YOU GO lmao, eat up.)

lol but LOOK AT THAT BOY DANCE HIS LITTLE HEART OUT though

Todoroki Touya confirmed not a fan of the Endeavor redemption arc huh. well we all saw this coming lols

anyways here’s a sexy Touya for y’all

you really are the most theatrical bitch I s2g lmao

also for real though, what is happening with his hair? anime team in shambles here. they’re probably just gonna double down and keep it red. too bad though cuz this is a surprisingly good look on him

SO MANY CLOSE-UPS OF THE TODOROKI FACES

friendly reminder that Dabi without a doubt REHEARSED this speech like a thousand fucking times. LET US FALL TOGETHER!! COME DANCE WITH YOUR SON IN HELL. apparently if you fake your own death in middle school you will never mentally age past that point and will remain a permanent chuuni

OH LMAO THAT’S THE END

we really just gonna end on “DANCE WITH YOUR SON IN HELL”, huh. very well then. you know what song to play, Horikoshi. one, two... YOU ARE MY DAD. YOU’RE MY DAD!! BOOGIE WOOGIE WOOGIE

[panharmonium]

is that meant to be an excuse

the WAY kakashi turns his back on the eldest and most highly-ranked officials in the village

and then he up and walks out of the room while koharu is in the middle of her next sentence

literally he just - walks out.  he doesn’t excuse himself or say goodbye or bow.  he doesn’t even let her finish speaking.  he leaves while she’s in the middle of talking and then shuts the door in her face.  

file this next to ‘kakashi faces down orochimaru’ in the drawer of kakashi’s most badass moments.  the level of disrespect kakashi broadcasts here is staggering - in no way would his behavior during this conversation be considered acceptable by anyone who doesn’t understand the context, but he isn’t just being an arrogant little shit for no reason, and this isn’t simply a right-wing/left-wing philosophy clash, either.  kakashi just learned all the dirty details about the uchiha massacre. he knows what these two did.  

even though kakashi is the one who reminds naruto (rightly) that they can’t just unquestioningly accept any story madara uchiha tells them, he acts this way with the councilors here because deep down, he believes what he’s been told.  he can’t say anything about it until he has proof, and he’s too smart to act on information that could still be a lie intended to destabilize the Leaf’s rebuilding efforts, but he’s clearly been thinking about it ever since madara appeared in the Land of Iron, and we can see here that ultimately, after doing his own internal analysis, the conclusion he’s drawn is that madara was probably telling them the truth.  however shocking and impossible a state-sponsored genocide + subsequent cover-up may have sounded to kakashi at first (and however much he may not have wanted to entertain the possibility of it having occurred), he suspects that madara’s information is true.  he thinks this is probably what happened.

it’s not a conclusion he draws without cause, i don’t think.  i imagine that for kakashi, this revelation feels more like a blurry picture coming into focus, as if he’s finally received the key to decrypting something that never made sense to him.  i’m watching this show for the first time, so there are some things i’m not clear on, but my impression is that kakashi knew itachi through ANBU before the uchiha massacre went down, and if that were the case, then i can only imagine how incomprehensible his crimes must have seemed at the time, to people who were familiar with him - it must have sounded impossible.  but kakashi and everyone else just had to accept itachi’s sudden turnaround as the reality, because impossible as it seemed, there was no alternative explanation for what happened.

but now, though - kakashi’s not stupid.  he is, per naruto’s own words, smarter than shikamaru.  as soon as madara uchiha presents him with a different possibility, things that never made sense before start to fall into place.  all the incomprehensible puzzle pieces that never fit together finally start to make sense within a bigger picture.  sasuke’s survival.  itachi being careless enough to let himself be spotted and accosted in the hidden leaf before he could get anywhere near naruto.  danzo sending sai to assassinate sasuke without tsunade’s knowledge or permission.  sai’s curse mark.  the report gaara gives kakashi about the five kage summit (where danzo was discovered to have stolen shisui uchiha’s sharingan eye).  and this -

kakashi can’t act without proof, but he knows.  he knows it’s true.  for the first time in years, things actually feel like they make sense.  and now, in this episode, he’s supposed to report to these two councilors as if he doesn’t know that they aided and abetted in a genocide against sasuke’s people, coerced a child into murdering his own community, covered the whole thing up, and are currently trying to get rid of the evidence by having sasuke assassinated?

kakashi can’t say anything yet, but he is coldly furious.  that narrowed eye says everything.  he knows he has to keep his mouth shut, because technically this could all still be a fabrication, and even if it’s not a lie, tipping his hand too soon could prompt the destruction of any evidence that might eventually enable this crime to be proven and dragged into the light, but the way he slaps these elders with disrespect here speaks volumes.  the cold contempt in his voice, the way he turns his back to them, the way he walks out of the room while they’re in the middle of a sentence - is that meant to be an excuse?

a reminder, for perspective: kakashi just returned from a confrontation where he thought he was going to have to kill his own kid because sasuke was so unbalanced by rage and pain and grief that he felt irresistibly compelled to destroy everything and everyone in his path, and now kakashi is supposed to just sit here and be deferent to the people who started this whole ball rolling years and years ago, back when sasuke and itachi were both just innocent children? 

no.  he shows them his back.  he shuts the door in their faces.  he does everything except flat-out tell them “i know what you did,” and while they may not know exactly why he’s behaving like this, they definitely know that the new hokage isn’t interested in any of their “advice.”

one other thought before i wrap this up: kakashi is the LAST person these two would ever have wanted to find out about their misdeeds.  he’s not some isolated child coming apart at the seams who can be discredited and eliminated - he’s one of the most renowned and respected jonin in their village (in ALL the villages of the shinobi world, in fact).  he’s also not distant enough from the situation to brush off these accusations as nothing more than rumor - he’s too intimately connected to the uchiha, to sasuke, to itachi, to obito, to the legacy of a dead community and the rightful inheritance that he carries inside his own body.  and most importantly of all, he’s not indoctrinated enough to accept whatever cold, shinobi-code calculations these people would try to use to justify their decision.  

kakashi doesn’t care if the shinobi code says the extermination of the uchiha clan was an acceptable loss.  doing the right thing in defiance of the shinobi code was young!kakashi’s entire character arc.  he used to be the “fall in line” kid, because he thought following the rules could protect him from pain, but after his friend teaches him a better way to be, he chooses to upend his entire life and reinvent himself in that friend’s image.  kakashi has remodeled himself after rulebreakers - specifically, people who refused to sacrifice the lives of others for the sake of a nebulous “greater good,” despite society’s rigid demands that they do so.  one of those people was his own father, a man who was crucified and ultimately destroyed by the culture he rejected, and the other was obito uchiha - a member of the same clan that danzo and the Leaf administration chose to sacrifice for the so-called “greater good” of the community.  

kakashi will never accept any excuses for that.  he will never give the administration a free pass on slaughter, even slaughter for the sake of a future “peace.”  the entire foundation upon which he’s built his post-obito philosophy is that you can’t sacrifice others for the sake of your mission, not even if the rules say it must be done.   you can give up your own life, yes.  but you NEVER offer up somebody else’s.  it’s not a right or worthy thing to do, and it never creates a lasting peace - as we’re seeing right now, with sasuke’s retribution.

when you get right down to it, kakashi is this administration’s worst nightmare.  i am really looking forward to the day he and sasuke and yamato and naruto can finally blow this conspiracy wide open.

[an-aura-about-you]

the fallout from Martin's dead end cafe job, 2009

The (Brief) Disappearance of Martin Blackwood

From the Files of the STP

Coffee shop romance? Nah. Office romance? Yeah! With a little bit of bailing your supervisor out of jail:

Jon’s flat is small and mostly tidy, just on the right side of lived in before things get messy. There are music charts scattered on the coffee table, a type of foldable futon with some cushions lined up against the wall next to it to form a type of couch on the floor. There’s a little alcove of a kitchenette, which barely looks big enough to hold the kettle in it. The one bedroom has a comfortably unmade bed and a Designated Clothes Chair. The reasoning behind being here is Jon’s flat is closer than Martin’s and he thinks it will be more comfortable to wait here than at the cafe.

Martin wholeheartedly agrees.

“Make yourself at home,” Jon says, dropping off his laptop bag by the coffee table. “I don’t know how long it’ll be before Claire calls, but we could probably get pizza?”

“Sounds good,” Martin agrees, working out how to get to the floor couch. “Alright if I move your table a bit?”

“Sure,” Jon calls from the bedroom, taking off his jacket for now. “And you can stack up the music, too, if you don’t wanna wait for me.”

“Thanks,” Martin calls back.

So they clear off the table, they order a pizza, and they wait.

For what Martin isn’t entirely sure. Jon hasn’t gone into detail, specifically said he couldn’t go into detail yet, that the whole of it will come out after Claire calls. But first she’s got to call. And Martin doesn’t know what happens after that. So, for now, he’s just spending time with Jon.

“So,” Martin begins, tucked in the corner of the room on the floor sofa. “When did you know you were psychic?”

Jon shrugs a little bit from his comfortable slouch next to him, one knee propped up. “Sometime after Claire found me. Apparently, it’s a thing that can just develop. Like allergies.”

“'Like allergies?'”

“Yeah, people can just develop allergies they’ve never had before as they get older. So like allergies if allergies were a brain thing.”

Martin snorts at that. “Not as bad as allergies, I hope.”

“Not exactly great, either. Most of the time, it just is what it is.” Jon folds his arms over his propped up knee. “Claire said sometimes it’s triggered by events tied to the Ethereal Realm. Makes you more susceptible to things like visions of the past, premonitions of the future, thoughts, memories, feelings, pretty much anything that gets broadcast over the ethereal waves.”

“Huh. You don’t think that means I’ll become psychic, too, do you?”

“Dunno. We haven’t figured out any rhyme or reason why this person and not that one. And some people can just be born with it but don’t always know what they have. Which kinda makes sense if you think about it.”

Martin eyes him. “Does it?”

Jon shrugs. “I mean, I didn’t think anything was weird about being ace because, until I learned about asexuality, I thought everybody was like me. Why wouldn’t someone who’s been psychic their whole life think the same thing until they learn about it?”

“Fair enough,” Martin concedes with a laugh. “Though I guess I didn’t have the same luxury? Thinking everybody was like me at one point, that is. I dunno, I picked up pretty quickly that I wasn’t straight, but that’s being the boy dreaming of a prince instead of a princess.”

Jon grins at him, turning to kneel on the floor sofa. “Speaking of.”

“Oh?”

“You said you wanted to go to a show, but we’ve got our album done. I’m afraid it’s princesses this time around, and it’s a pretty tragic ending, but…” Jon shrugs. “Wanna listen?”

Martin nods just as there’s a knock on the door signaling their pizza is here. It’s not long after that the two are set up with their food and their music.

“I really like your narration,” Martin says near the end.

“Yeah?” Jon replies. “It’s hard for me to hear sometimes.”

“Why?” he asks while getting another slice of pizza. “I know you said that before, but you didn’t really explain it.”

“It’s weird listening to recordings of my voice so much. I have to do it for the music to make sure it’s right, but it’s a relief when it’s done and I can go back to hearing my voice the way I hear it.”

“That makes sense,” Martin agrees. “If I think about it like that, I probably couldn’t be in a band. Not as a singer, anyway.”

Jon opens his mouth to say something else when his phone rings. “This is probably it,” he says, picking it up to answer. “This is Sims.”

Martin can’t hear the other side of the call, but Jon grins wide and gets to his feet.

“Excellent,” he says. “I’ll be there shortly.” With that, he hangs up. “Martin, could you please watch my flat while I bail Claire out of jail?”

“I’m sorry, you’re doing what?!” Martin asks, standing up to join him.

Jon clasps his hands in front of his face. “Right. Explanation. Ah, the short version: remember how I warned you not to take a job at the Magnus Institute?”

“Yeah?”

“It’s very possible that it’s about to collapse. Business-wise, not physically. Claire has taken… certain actions to free a Mr. Elias Bouchard from someone controlling him, actions that were done with Bouchard’s consent but look very much like an attack on him. So now Claire’s in jail, and I have to go bail her out.” Jon puts his hands on the back of his head. “Is that enough for now?”

“Wait, you’re saying Mr. Bouchard is under someone else’s control?” Martin asks.

Jon puts his hands in front of his face again, as if praying. “I’ll go into more detail later if I can. That’s probably as much as I can get away with saying unless you actually join the Ministry. But I’ve really gotta go.”

Martin thinks back to his flat and the CV he’s been reworking to give to Siobhan for review before turning it in at her office. It’s a little hope, but it’s still there, and from everything he’s been gathering from his own experience, there’s precious little that’s supposed to be said, anyway. So he nods. “Okay. A-and thanks for the warning about the Magnus Institute.”

Jon nods before grabbing his jacket. “Of course, Martin.” And with that, he heads out the door.

-

Martin can’t remember the last time he’s been this nervous or this stunned at a job interview.

Of all the people he planned to talk to about his CV and qualifications, Actual Goddamn Cat Burglar Trilby wasn’t even on the long shot list. (Queen Elizabeth II was probably the last name on the long shot list. This is better, though. Trilby by comparison is respectable.)

Trilby, for his part, carries an air of expertise befitting his years. Granted, Martin didn’t know how many of them were spent under the title Occult Researcher until now, that he’s actually spent about as much time doing this as he had being a gentleman thief at this point. But he wears it well.

“So, good under pressure, experience in a day job that could easily serve as cover, familiar with objects that have ties to the Ethereal Realm, minor ability to bluff psychics that could be developed into a real skill, and-” He picks up a letter on his desk. “-a streak of compassion our office apparently needs. Why Mr. Sims thought to include that last one in his recommendation for you is beyond me.”

“Jon wrote a recommendation for me?”

“As did Ms. O’Malley and Ms. Wyndham,” Trilby adds as Martin attempts to process that. “Which is more than most applicants get, even with relevant schooling. Let’s be honest, an actual encounter is rare among those with relevant schooling but often more valuable.” He smiles. “From my own particular experience, I got more money for a real silver necklace than the concept of a gold necklace.” He collects the papers on his desk into a neat stack. “The Ministry technically has to approve you for you to officially be employed by them, but if they don’t, you’re more than welcome to work for us in the STP. Either way, there’s a job here for you if you want it.”

-

Martin looks up when he hears someone approaching the new library section he’s been building in Artefact Storage, fully expecting it to be Siobhan. (Who would’ve guessed? New job, same supervisor.) He gives a bright smile, however, when he sees it’s Jon joining him. “Hey, Jon! Was wondering when I might run into you.”

“Hey!” Jon calls in return as he approaches. “How’s your first day of work going?”

“As well as can be expected?” Martin answers with a shrug. “Still a little nervous.”

“I’m sure it’ll be fine,” Jon assures him before setting down a newspaper on a nearby desk. “Here. The rest of the explanation. And Claire thanks you for your discovery of A Disappearance, however accidental your use of it may or may not have been. It was instrumental in her mission to liberate Elias Bouchard from the control of Jonah Magnus.”

Martin looks over the newspaper article, a curious case of an attack on the head of the Magnus Institute in which Claire Wyndham was found gouging Elias Bouchard’s eyes out with a serrated knife.

“Frehorn’s Blade,” Jon explains, pointing out that part. “She could’ve used anything, really, but Frehorn’s Blade allows the user to take control of the mind and soul of the one they kill with it. Makes banishing someone like Magnus easier. God, I wonder what kind of earful he tried giving Claire before she did.”

“And A Disappearance?”

“Helped shield her from Magnus, who had made his deal with the King’s Eye and has powers similar to that of a psychic. Hence…” He points at his own eyes with two fingers to finish the sentence. “Oh! I didn’t even tell you the part where we’re fairly certain the Peter you encountered before finding that pamphlet is from the Lukas family. They have financial ties to the Magnus Institute, but we’re not sure right now if that means they’ll do anything with it. We’re-”

Martin looks up when Jon stops. “Ah, you were saying?”

Jon shakes his head. “Well, I started the joke. I might as well finish it: we’re keeping an eye on the situation.”

Martin makes a snort of a laugh through his nose before he continues reading the article. It states that, in spite of how brutal the attack appeared, the now blind Bouchard has chosen not to press charges against Wyndham. He actually thanked her. The fate of the Magnus Institute is still in question according to the newspaper, but it’s very likely Martin’s not going to be the only new recruit to the Ministry of Occultism soon, and there’s going to be a lot of new things to sort in Artefact Storage if it’s not kept in the Institute’s building. He might end up with a proper Librarian title before long.

“So that day when Claire and Siobhan were having that meeting in the office?” Martin asks.

“A séance to contact Bouchard,” Jon answers. “28th July is the best day to attempt such things, the day when the barrier between the Physical Realm and the Ethereal Realm is at its thinnest.”

Martin nods at this. “I think that explains everything, then.” He hands the paper back to Jon. “Thank you. I’m glad you told me.”

“Glad I got the chance to,” Jon replies, taking the paper.

But after that, Jon still doesn’t leave.

Martin smiles at him again. “Ah, was there something else?”

“Yes, actually,” Jon says, fidgeting with the paper for a little bit before folding it and tucking it under his arm. “I was thinking, it being your first day- ah, I know you said you’re nervous, so I understand if the answer’s no, but- I mean, if you’re hungry, would you-? That is, I’d like to take you out for a celebratory lunch date?”

Martin swallows, taking in everything about the moment. “So, when-” He licks his lips without thinking, and Jon seems to be watching him just as intently as he’s watching Jon. “-when you say a lunch date…?”

“I mean a date,” Jon quickly clarifies. “Unless- unless you’d rather- if you don’t like food?” He puts his hand to his forehead. “I mean, it doesn’t have to be a date if you just want the food, but if you’re not hungry right now but still want to get out for your lunch break- o-or if you don’t want the food and want to get out on your lunch break and consider it a- a d-date, then-”

Martin doesn’t even think, just reaches out to lower Jon’s hand from his forehead much in the same way he did when prompting him to put his wallet away.

Jon abruptly shuts up at the touch, pulled out of the circles he was talking himself in. “Martin?” he quietly asks, looking at the point of contact before meeting Martin’s eyes.

“I’d love to go on a date with you,” Martin answers just as softly. “Heh, have for a while now. Not sure how that got past you.”

“I mean, I do try to give you your privacy,” Jon says, but his mouth gently blooms into a smile as he does. He turns his hand so he’s properly holding Martin’s instead of just touching it. “But I think, now that you’ve said it, I could feel it coming off of you.” He slowly knits their fingers together. “Feeling it isn’t the same as naming it, after all.”

“Some psychic you are,” Martin playfully chides, leaning a bit closer and squeezing Jon’s hand. “No wonder you’re just Assistant Psychic Investigator.”

“Hey, Claire says I have great potential,” Jon protests with a little shove. “When she’s not cooing about how I look like a junior version of Trilby.”

“You do dress like him,” Martin points out.

“It’s just a suit; I don’t even wear a hat.”

“And you’re both the sort to wear a suit working a shift at a cafe, aren’t you?” Martin asks, gesturing to his own outfit of a jumper over a shirt and jeans, still very much the sort of thing he might wear working at the cafe.

Jon tugs at their joined hands a little bit, ready to lead him out. “Hey, that was one shift. But that reminds me not to take you to the cafe for our lunch date. Not today, anyway. Maybe once we’re not sure to be the hot office gossip. That’s the one terrible thing about my supervisor being a Psychic Investigator.”

But Martin stands still even as Jon tries to pull him along.

Jon stops and looks back. “Hmm? You haven’t changed your mind or anything, have you?”

“No, it’s not that,” Martin assures him, tugging him back. “I was just wondering-”

“Yes,” Jon immediately answers, moving in a bit closer.

Martin’s mouth drops open a little. “Yes to what?” he asks.

“Yes, you can kiss me,” Jon clarifies, reaching up to brush his fingers along Martin’s cheek.

“Maybe you’re a better psychic than I tho-”

But the rest of Martin’s sentence gets lost against Jon’s mouth, a tender, tentative brush of their lips together repeated twice, thrice to make sure it actually happened, staying close afterwards, reluctant to part.

“Oh,” Jon sighs, the breath of it on Martin’s mouth.

“Yeah,” Martin agrees. And then, “Thought that would come at the end of the date.”

“Why wait for that if we want the kiss now?” Jon asks, actually drawing away this time and resuming pulling him along to go to lunch.

“Will I have to worry about you reading my mind?” Martin asks in return, following along this time.

Jon looks at him over his shoulder with a little roll of his eyes. “I mean, just because I know what name to put to it now doesn’t mean I’m just scrolling through your brain like I’m on my phone.” He presses his lips together in thought, and Martin has to give him the benefit of the doubt since he’d very much like to kiss him again. “I’ll keep that in mind, though. So I’m not just talking over your thoughts.”

“Hey, you said yourself that you do what you can to control it,” Martin says, giving his hand another squeeze. “But thank you.”

Jon squeezes his hand back, smiling up at him.

Martin smiles back and asks, “So, where are we going for lunch?”

And Jon resumes pulling Martin along, talking about this perfect little Italian place near their building, occasionally squeezing their joined hands as they go.

[mikauzoran]

Lukadrien: Zebras Can’t Change Their Stripes: Chapter One

Read it on AO3: Zebras Can’t Change Their Stripes: Chapter One

A whole week had passed since The Breakup, and Luka was still reeling.

“You brought this upon yourself,” he reminded bitterly as he rolled over and found the space on the bed next to him empty and cold.

He kept telling himself, “You broke up with her”, “It was the right thing to do”, and “You couldn’t keep waiting for her to move on. That wasn’t healthy”, but the words never quite sank in.

One week later, he was even more of a mess than when he’d finally gotten the courage to break things off. The pain of being without her, knowing that it was really over, was worse than having her by his side knowing that she was thinking about someone else when she kissed him.

At least before he’d had a place in her heart, even if it was only second.

With a groan, Luka pushed himself up to sitting and grabbed his phone off the nightstand.

There was a text from Juleka berating him for drinking too much, not returning her texts, and taking crap care of himself.

Rose had also sent him a message reminding him about family dinner that Sunday.

Jacob, the bassist from his band Eternal Nocturne, had texted him not to be late for the auditions for a new lead singer that afternoon.

Luka cursed, setting his phone down without replying to anyone. He scrubbed his face with both hands and then forced himself to kick the covers off and get up.

It was already almost noon, and the mature, adult part of his brain knew that he had to get his stuff together. He was twenty-six, and he’d been through breakups before. He would survive this one as well…even though it didn’t feel like it at the moment.

He pushed himself out of bed and began to search around for something clean to wear.

He really needed to do laundry. And the dishes. And the grocery shopping.

Luka winced as he uncovered a lacey pink bra with white polka dots under a pile of jeans that reeked of alcohol and stale bar smell.

He needed to make a breakup box, put all of her leftover things in it, and send it back to her.

His heart sank at that realization, the finality of it.

He put the bra back under the jeans and promised himself he’d deal with it later. When he was feeling better…. Whenever that happened to be.

The important thing just then was to find something that could pass as clean so that he could get to the audition and not let his bandmates down. He was already disappointing himself and his family. He needed to do right by somebody at least.

 Adrien was screwed.

He’d been back in Paris for two days, and, already, his funds were almost entirely used up. He’d found a cheap hostel in Pigalle where he’d been able to shower and get a decent night’s rest without having to worry about anyone bothering him, but he wouldn’t be able to stay there for much longer unless he found work.

That was turning out to be much harder than anticipated. In Paris, people were a lot stricter about having to have valid identification to secure employment. They were also a lot more persnickety about hiring Adrien Agreste, even if it was just to wash dishes, clean hotel rooms, or wait tables.

Maybe he could talk to the owners of the hostel about working the front desk. He’d done that before in Nice and Lyon.

If the situation really got dire, he could always try to find someone like Nino from his past who would be sympathetic and maybe let him sleep on a couch or something until he could get back up on his feet again.

He didn’t want to do that, but it was beginning to look like he had no other choice. It had been four years since his father’s arrest, four years since Adrien lost his family, his fortune, and even the ability to use his own name. He’d thought that maybe people would have cooled off and moved on, that it was safe to come back to Paris, back home…but it wasn’t looking like it so far.

He was starting to think that it had been a mistake to return, but he couldn’t bring himself to regret it. He was tired of roaming the country and scraping by, and he couldn’t go on like that any longer. He wanted to establish roots and make a place for himself. He wanted to feel grounded again.

He was determined to figure things out and make it work, and if that meant going door to door to every restaurant, shop, and hotel in Paris until he found a job, that’s what he was going to do. He was through running away; it was time to settle down and make a life for himself.

He wasn’t sure what that life would look like, but if it included years of hard work, a partner who saw him and not his father’s crimes, some children who inherited his mother’s smile, and a pet or two, Adrien would be content.

He just had to find a job first so that he didn’t end up on the street nicking food out of restaurant dumpsters again.

As he descended the steps into the Métro, a flyer advertising auditions for a lead singer for a band caught Adrien’s eye.

He stopped and studied it, noting that auditions had begun twenty minutes prior at a bar just a few blocks away.

He grabbed the flyer and took off at a jog.

 “No one’s coming,” Jacob grumbled half an hour into the audition time when it became apparent that not a single soul was going to show up.

“Doesn’t look like it,” Josie the drummer agreed, tipping back on her barstool so that it balanced precariously on two legs. “So, what are we going to do without a vocalist?”

“Yeah, we’ve got that gig coming up this weekend,” Jacob reminded, chewing anxiously on his bottom lip.

Josie and Jacob both looked to Marc—guitarist, keyboardist, and the band’s unofficial leader/mum.

“Josephine, don’t do that; you’re going to fall,” Marc sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “…I mean, I can cover lead for one night.”

“Who’s going to do your backup vocals, then,” Josie demanded, setting her stool legs back on the ground.

“Luka can,” Marc informed.

Jacob snorted. “Luka’s drunk.”

“Luka is not drunk,” Marc growled defensively. “He knows better than to show up drunk. He’s just hung over, isn’t that right, Luc?”

“Yes, and I’m nursing a killer headache, so if we could take the volume of the talking down a few decibels, it would be greatly appreciated,” Luka groaned, pulling his newsboy cap down a little further to shield his eyes from the bright light emanating from the stage where the people auditioning were supposed to be performing.

“And who’s going to do Luka’s backup vocals?” Josie persisted, lowering her voice out of consideration for Luka.

“I don’t know. Jacob?” Marc suggested uncertainly.

Josie let out a bark of laughter. “Jacob can’t walk and talk at the same time. How is he supposed to play and sing?”

“Josie,” Marc scolded. “Be nice.”

“No, she’s got a point,” Jacob cut in. “I’ve walked into poles before because I didn’t see them because I was talking to someone. Multitasking really isn’t my strong suit.”

Marc opened his mouth to reply, paused to consider his words, and then shut his mouth.

“Excuse me?” a new voice called out.

The band turned their heads to find a thin, scraggly young man standing in the doorway.

He had scruffy, wild blonde hair and piercing peridot eyes, and it was impossible to say how old he was exactly. He looked young, but he had one of those ageless faces that could have just as easily been twenty as forty. His clothes had been expensive, good quality when they were new, but now they were well-worn and showing their age.

“Are auditions over already?” he inquired, taking a tentative step into the bar.

The door closed behind him, and now that he wasn’t backlit by the daylight pouring in from outside, Luka could see him clearly.

His eyes widened as he recognized his former crush whom he hadn’t seen in four long years.

“No, we’re still going,” Jacob informed.

“You here to try out, Kid?” Josie asked with a big smile, turning on her stool to face him.

Adrien nodded, holding up the flyer in his hand. “I just learned about the audition, like, ten minutes ago, so I don’t have anything prepared in advance, but I’m a good singer with a pretty expansive range. I’m a quick study too, so, if you teach me, I’ll pick up your songs right away.”

“All right,” Marc agreed with a grin. “Go ahead and take the stage, and we’ll see what you’ve got. What’s your name?”

“Émile,” Adrien responded with a smile as he took his spot in front of the microphone. “Émile Dupain.”

Luka frowned.

Surely, he wasn’t mistaken. The years had changed Adrien, yes, but he wasn’t that different. Luka knew that face, those eyes, that smile.

“Nice to meet you, Émile,” Marc greeted amicably. “I’m Marc. I play keyboard and some guitar depending on the song. I also do backup vocals.”

“I’m Josie. Percussion,” Josie took over. “This idiot is Jacob, our bassist,”

Jacob gamely raised a hand. “Sup.”

“and Mr. Doom and Gloom over there is Luc,” Josie completed the introductions. “He plays guitar and does backup vocals. Ignore him for right now. He just broke up with his girlfriend, so he’s kind of in a funk. Normally, he’s the nicest person, so give him another week and you’ll be best friends.”

“Thank you for broadcasting all that, Josie,” Luka grumbled as he waved at Adrien, just waiting for him to recognize Luka.

He worried that if Adrien were trying to conceal his identity, he wouldn’t appreciate the reunion, but a part of Luka hoped that Adrien would be excited to see him again. Luka was certainly happy to see Adrien.

“It’s nice to meet you all,” Adrien replied, friendly expression not changing in the slightest. “What kind of music do you guys usually play?”

Luka fought down a tsunami of disappointment at Adrien not seeming to recognize him.

“Usually alternative or punk,” Marc supplied, not appearing to notice the way Luka slumped in his chair. “We mostly do covers, but we have our own songs too. Our next show is Saturday, but we’ll just be doing covers for that one, so it shouldn’t be too hard for you to get up to speed if we decide to hire you.”

Adrien nodded. “Sounds good. I’m a hard worker, so I’ll get the music memorized right away and be ready for the show.”

“Have you ever been in a band before, Émile?” Josie inquired curiously.

“Yes,” Adrien answered with confidence. “I’m a little out of practice at the moment, but I played keyboard and did a little bit of backup vocals.”

“What kind of band was it?” Marc asked.

“Uh…the genre’s called kawaiicore, if you’ve heard of it,” Adrien informed, shifting his weight from one foot to the other.

Jacob’s forehead furrowed in concentration as he tried to recall. “It sounds familiar, but I’m coming up blank. What’s kawaiicore?”

“You know when I showed you Babymetal?” Luka reminded.

Jacob’s face lit up, and Josie started to nod too.

“Like Kitty Section!” Jacob exclaimed.

“Yeah!” Adrien perked up. “That’s—”

He cut himself off and went pale when he realized that telling them that he had been the keyboardist in Kitty Section was just as good as revealing his identity.

“That’s right,” Adrien completed. “Like Kitty Section. I can do other genres, though. I can sing anything: musical theatre, opera, jazz, pop—whatever.”

“So, what will you be singing for us today?” Marc prompted, very interested in seeing what Adrien would come up with.

“Well, I’ve kind of been living under a rock lately, so I’m not exactly up on what’s popular now,” Adrien hedged. “I mostly listen to music in Japanese, so maybe I could just sing something so that you can see if my voice is a good fit for you guys, and then you can give me a list of songs you usually do so that I can memorize them.”

“Sounds fair,” Josie replied with a shrug. “So, what are you going to sing?”

Adrien bit his lip and took a deep breath, scanning his mind for a song that would show off his abilities.

“Do you know Charles?” Luka spoke up. “That was popular a couple years ago. If you know that one, I could play the guitar part along with you.”

Adrien had been the one to introduce the song to Luka, and they’d played it together with Kitty Section with Adrien doing the main vocals. Luka still played that song from time to time when he was feeling nostalgic.

On stage, Adrien’s eyes widened in surprise. “Uh…yeah. Yeah, I know Charles. It’s one of my favourites. You wouldn’t mind?”

He narrowed his eyes, trying to get a better look at Luka’s facial features, but the hat blocked Adrien’s view, and it was difficult to discern Luka’s face clearly in the dim lighting of the bar when contrasted with the blinding lights on stage.

“I’d be happy to,” Luka assured, reaching down to grab his guitar off of the amp where it lay.

“Thank you,” Adrien replied with a big smile that made Luka positive that he hadn’t been mistaken about “Émile’s” identity. “Ready when you are.”

Luka counted them in and began to play.

Adrien blew the band away with his vocals. His voice was smooth and lyrical, gliding over the notes like a swan across a pond.

“He has really clear intonation,” Marc hummed softly in approval to his bandmates after listening to Adrien sing for a bit.

“And he wasn’t lying about his range,” Josie chuckled as she drummed out the rhythm on her thighs and danced in her seat.

“I certainly can’t hit those notes,” Jacob laughed.

“Neither can I,” Josie snorted. “Well, maybe on a good day, but not the way he does. He just shoots all the way up there and drops back down again like it’s nothing.”

“It’s so clean too,” Marc added. “His voice doesn’t crack or squeak or waver or anything. He hits those notes dead center, and then he stays there until it’s time to move to the next note.”

“I think we struck gold,” Jacob snickered.

“He’s super cute too.” Josie smirked deviously. “He’s sure to attract a crowd. We just need to put some eyeliner on him and get him in leather pants, and—”

“—Distracting me,” Luka hissed quietly so that he wouldn’t interrupt Adrien.

Jacob waggled his eyebrows as he whispered, “What? Imagining Émile in leather pants?”

“Jacques,” Luka warned testily.

“He’s totally your type, though,” Josie joined in helpfully. “I think a new romance is just the thing to get you over your breakup.”

“Jacob, Josephine,” Marc called quietly but firmly. “Leave him alone.”

Josie and Jacob both held up their hands in a placating gesture and let the subject drop.

Luka redoubled his focus on his fingers, trying to banish the thought of Chat Noir from his mind.

“Waraiatte sayonara,” Adrien finished softly and then looked to the band for their judgment call.

Jacob started clapping, and Josie wolf-whistled.

“Can we do that song sometime?” Jacob directed at Marc. “I bet the bass part is killer.”

“Yeah!” Josie cheered. “I can’t wait to get my drumsticks on that.”

“I don’t see why we couldn’t,” Marc agreed and then turned back to Adrien with a smile. “You really can sing. That was great.”

“You think so?” Adrien asked with a breathless giddiness, starting to squirm in excitement.

“Definitely,” Luka assured. “You sing like an angel.”

“Make him sing something else,” Josie demanded of Marc who had the grace to blush.

“Josephine, I can’t just make him sing for us,” he sighed and then looked to Adrien. “Would you mind singing something else?”

“Not at all,” Adrien easily agreed, eager to please.

He needed the job desperately, and if he could get paid just for singing, that was certainly easier than anything else he’d done for money the past four years.

“Um…let me think of something else I could sing for you,” he mumbled, chewing on his lip as he wracked his thoughts.

“…Do you know Ranbu no Melody?” Luka suggested. “That’s another one I could play along with you, if you’re familiar with it. I only know the minute and a half that was used as the Bleach opening theme song, though.”

“Yeah, I think I remember how that version goes,” Adrien fibbed.

Luka and Adrien had watched portions of Bleach together, and Adrien had sung along with all of the openings. If Luka still remembered the guitar part, surely, Adrien remembered the lyrics.

Luka counted them in again, and Adrien proved not to have forgotten at all. He sang with every ounce of confidence and enthusiasm that he had back when they’d been teenagers watching anime together.

It was reassuring for Luka to know that, even though Adrien might have changed in the years they’d been apart, there were some things that remained the same.

“How do you know all this weeb music, Luka?” Jacob wondered.

“The Boy was a total anime nerd,” Luka explained with an affectionate smile.

Jacob and Josie let out soft “Oooooh”s and started to nod.

The Boy was practically a mythical figure at this point in their friendship. Luka had talked a lot about The Boy over the years, just like he’d talked a lot about The Girl. Luka had dated many people and loved a small handful, but no one had penetrated so deeply into Luka’s heart as Adrien and Marinette.

“…He’s really good,” Marc observed, visibly delighted as he listened to Adrien. “He puts a lot of emotion into his voice, and I am loving it.”

“Yeah,” Jacob chimed in. “I have no idea what the hell he’s saying, but I feel it, Man. It’s intense.”

Luka’s smile turned melancholy as he remarked, “If I remember correctly, the song is about soldiering on and taking on whatever difficulty is in front of you and then carrying those experiences forward to present them to the person you want to spend your life with. It’s kind of like…we’re the sum of our experiences, and the singer hopes that the person they love will accept them anyway, even though they’ve got cracks and jagged edges in places.”

“Wow,” Josie whispered. “That’s…deep.”

“That’s what I got out of it, anyway,” Luka quickly added. “The Boy translated it into French for me, and then I kind of interpreted it artistically, taking some liberties, but that’s what I got out of it.”

“I like this song,” Jacob decided, tapping his foot along. “I like this kid.”

“We’re adopting him,” Josie decreed.

“Yeah.” Jacob nodded resolutely. “I need to get him to show me more weeb music. I feel like I’ve been missing out.”

“Wooo!!!” Josie cheered loudly as Adrien finished. “We love you!”

“Sing more!” Jacob encouraged as he clapped.

A blush spread across Adrien’s cheeks like fire catching on dried grass.

He rubbed at the back of his neck and looked to Marc for instruction, sensing that Marc was the leader of their little circus.

“I think it would be good if we all played something together to see if we mesh well as a band,” Marc decided. “Would that be okay with you, Émile?”

Adrien nodded enthusiastically. “Yes, of course.”

Jacob turned to Luka. “What song does he know that we could all play?”

Luka shrank, semi-hiding behind his guitar. “Why are you asking me?”

“You did the psychic thing with the songs in Japanese,” Jacob reasoned with a shrug. “Do it again.”

“Yeah,” Josie urged, reaching across Marc to poke Luka. “Do it.”

“I don’t know,” Luka grumbled. “How about This is Gospel? We play that one sometimes.”

And he had taught Adrien how to play it on guitar, so maybe Adrien remembered the lyrics.

“I know that one,” Adrien offered.

“Awesome!” Josie trilled, jumping down from her stool and heading over to the stage to join Adrien.

Once she reached him, she pulled him into a crushing hug.

It was kind of cute. Josie was a statuesque six-foot-two, and Adrien was only five-eight. (Five-ten with shoes on, he used to always insist, sensitive about his lack of height.)

“Hi. We’re adopting you,” Josie informed him as she pulled back with a grin and then abruptly turned on her heel and headed for her drum set.

Marc shook his head, getting up and making his way to the stage to turn on his keyboard.

“Josephine, don’t scare the poor kid,” he chastised wearily.

“I’m not!” she insisted. “I’m being friendly!”

Marc placed a hand on Adrien’s shoulder as he passed, assuring, “She means well. If we ever make you uncomfortable, just say something, okay?”

“It’s fine,” Adrien assured, wiping at the tears beading at the corners of his eyes, hoping that Marc couldn’t see. “I’m just…I’m not used to people being so friendly. I don’t…people don’t hug me. Ever.”

Marc frowned at that, his mum senses kicking in. “Do you like being hugged?”

Adrien nodded.

“Okay then.” Marc didn’t even hesitate as he pulled Adrien in for a hug—not a guy hug with a pat on the back, but an honest to goodness hug.

He pulled back with a smile, instructing, “Just let us know whenever you want a hug, okay? You’re family now. Family get hugs whenever.”

Adrien had to actually bite his tongue to hold in a whimper. He couldn’t find his voice to reply, so he nodded and rubbed away the tears that were quickly taking the previous ones’ place.

“I’ll give you a hug in a minute, Kid,” Jacob assured, picking up his bass. “I’m just lazy, and I’m already set up over here.”

“Same,” Luka latched onto Jacob’s excuse, figuring that now wasn’t the best time for a reunion with Adrien.

Josie counted them in and started the heartbeat-like rhythm that began the song.

Adrien took a deep breath and sang.

The full sound of the band all playing together resonated powerfully through the bar, giving Adrien chills.

It wasn’t perfect. The timing was a little off in places, and Adrien needed to learn his cues if he was going to sync up with the others. They needed to work out the backup vocals and other little things to make the performance come out smooth, but they were starting in a good place. They could polish this up and make it shine.

It felt good to be playing with a band again. Adrien hadn’t realized how much he’d missed making music with others, being a part of a team.

He’d been so alone these past four years.

Partly that was his own fault. He’d run away both literally and figuratively and shut people out who otherwise would have been there for him. He’d let pride and shame and fear of rejection win…and now he was finally realizing how exhausting it had been.

Now that these nice people were opening up to him and accepting him into their little family, it finally dawned upon Adrien that he’d been foolish to try to make it on his own for so long. He hadn’t realized how draining it had been until he’d been offered the chance to rest.

He needed to call Nino and reconnect.

He needed to find Marinette and apologize for giving up his Miraculous and taking off because he’d been overwhelmed after his father’s arrest and hadn’t felt worthy of being Chat Noir.

He needed to fix things, fix his life.

As the song came to an end, a feeling of calm and peace settled over Adrien.

He was still broke and not sure where his next meal was coming from or if he’d have a roof over his head in the intervening days between now and the show on Saturday when he’d presumably get paid, but, oddly enough, he felt a little better about things.

“We killed that,” Jacob preened as he set down his bass and went over to join the others on stage. “Excellent work, Kid,” he announced, pulling Adrien into a hug.

“I’m guessing I got the job?” Adrien hazarded a guess, looking around at his bandmates for confirmation.

“Oh, definitely,” Josie assured. “You know that one meme? ‘I’ve only known Émile for twenty minutes, but if anything happened to him, I’d kill everyone and then myself.’”

Adrien cracked up, beaming. “I don’t think anyone’s ever felt that strongly about me before.”

“Poor boy. And now he’s stuck with us,” Jacob snickered, giving Adrien’s hair a tussle.

“Let’s exchange contact information so we can get ahold of you,” Marc suggested. “Are you available tomorrow? We’re going to need a lot of rehearsal time between now and Saturday in order to be ready.”

“Yes. I’m available,” Adrien quickly confirmed. “I don’t have a phone, though, so if we could communicate by email, that would be great. I’m le chat de la princesse de la nuit on gmail. All lowercase and run together.”

“Yeah, no problem,” Marc assured, getting out his phone and opening up a new email. “I’ll email you all of our numbers and emails so you can get in touch with us. I’ll email you again later with the place and time. It’ll probably be Phantasmagoria over in the eighth arrondissement. You know it?”

Adrien nodded. “I had a friend whose band played there. He used to sneak me in before I turned eighteen.”

The fond smile on Adrien’s face gave Luka some hope that maybe he was still a good memory for Adrien and that Adrien wouldn’t be too upset when he realized just whose band he had inadvertently joined.

It didn’t occur to Adrien until later to wonder if Luka still played at Phantasmagoria and if Raoul the bartender still worked there and would recognize Adrien.

“Good,” Marc chuckled. “I’m glad you know it. Like I said, I’ll confirm place and time later this afternoon.”

He then turned to Luka. “Hey, Rich Boy. Would you mind picking up a phone for Émile? It’s going to be really inconvenient if we can’t get ahold of him.”

“You don’t have to do to that!” Adrien looked frantically between Marc and Luka. “I’ll-I’ll pay you back when I can. I promise.”

“Don’t worry about it, Angel,” Luka assured with a kind smile as he got up and started to put his guitar away. “My bio dad got hit with a huge dose of guilt a few years ago for never bothering to find out I existed let alone pay child support for me, so I’ve got a ridiculous trust fund that I don’t know what to do with now.”

Adrien’s brow furrowed, and he wanted to protest out of principle, but even he had to acknowledge that it would be really useful to have a phone, and he was too down on his luck to afford one.

“Thank you. I really appreciate it, Luc,” he replied with sincerity.

“Sure thing.” Luka smiled, giving Adrien a wink and doing an internal victory dance when Adrien smiled back at him.

“…Well, I guess if you guys don’t need anything else from me, I’m going to head out,” Adrien excused himself politely, starting to make his way towards the door. “It was lovely meeting you all.”

“You too, Kid!” Jacob assured, and Josie seconded the sentiment.

“We’ll see you tomorrow, Émile.” Marc waved him off. “Be safe.”

Adrien returned the wave and turned to go.

Luka bit his lip, debating with himself.

“What’s that face you’re making?” Josie snickered, coming back to perch on her barstool.

“You should go ask him out to coffee,” Jacob suggested as he came over, making a shooing gesture at Luka.

“Jacob will babysit your stuff for you,” Marc volunteered.

Luka looked to Jacob, and Jacob shrugged.

“We all want you to start feeling better soon,” Josie explained, giving Luka a soft smile. “Spending time with someone new will be good for you.”

“Just don’t come on too strong so that you scare him off,” Marc cautioned. “Don’t do that heart-song stuff. He’s a good kid, and we need him for Saturday.”

Luka rolled his eyes, handing his guitar to Jacob. “Thanks, guys, but this isn’t a romantic thing.”

“Uh-huh,” Josie agreed disingenuously, a cat-that-ate-the-canary smirk pulling at the corners of her lips.

“Have fun,” Jacob snickered.

Luka shook his head, making for the door.

He looked back and forth once he got outside of the bar and just happened to spot Adrien turning the corner.

He raced after him, slowing down as he began to catch up because he figured the last thing Adrien needed was someone he didn’t recognize barreling towards him and making him think he was in danger.

He decelerated into a walk and took a few deep breaths before calling out, “Adrien!”

Adrien froze, every muscle in his back going tense as he slowly turned.

“I’m sorry. I think you’ve confused me with someone el—” he started to say but then stopped short as he got a good look at Luka in the light of day without his cap obscuring the view.

Adrien’s eyes widened, his cheeks lost all colour, and his mouth dropped open.

“Luka?” he breathed, his heart stopping in his chest.

[bedbellyandbeyond]

What Happened?

(Story Post)

“…A severe weather anomaly in the Thunder Bay area took place last night, at 11:45pm…” Dax heard the sound of the radio as he slowly woke up. He was exhausted and rather sore all over, his body feeling like a pile of bricks. “…Locals reported seeing a big bird made of light fly through the clouds while scientists are saying the lightning, in combination with Canada Day fireworks, may have appeared similar in shape to a bird…” Dax couldn't ignore that and he sat up straight, looking around for the source of the news broadcast. There was a little clock radio on the bedside table reading out 5:44am. Moments later, he realised he didn't recognise his surroundings. He wasn't at the hotel but he was in a bed. He was alone in a room with wooden walls and big glass windows. There was a closet and a dresser, with little wooden animal figures lining the top. Outside, he could see over a small lake. It was awfully familiar.

The bedroom door opened and Kent stuck his head in, glaring at Dax. “So you're awake.” “What? Where am I?” Dax asked. “What happened?” “This is my room, dumbass,” Kent said. “Now get the fuck out.” “Um, how did I get here?” Dax asked. Kent narrowed his eyes. “You don’t remember flying in here like a bat out of hell?” Dax shook his head. Kent huffed. “Best you don't, then...” “Please, I... All I remember was going back to the hotel with Nathan, and then... Then...” He wracked his mind. “I don't know... I don't remember a thing.” “Again, it's best you don't. Get out.” “You don't understand!” Dax said desperately. “I never lose control like this anymore! This isn't normal for me! I need to know what happened. I can't let this happen again. It sounds like a whole city saw me!” “At least the bird's all they fucking saw...” Kent grunted. “You came falling in like a shootin' star and then barge into my house and into my bedroom.” “Really?! I'm so sorry!” Dax apologised. “Please tell me I didn't hurt you!” “Hurt me?” Kent scoffed. “Fuck no... You think you could hurt me, veggie boy? Get fucked.” “So, then... What?” Dax asked. “What did happen last night?” Kent clenched his jaw. “Nothin'. You went to sleep.” Dax blinked. “...Seriously, Kent. What happened?” Kent just set his jaw and didn't make eye contact. Dax started to panic. “...Don’t tell me... We didn't... You and I...” Kent just retreated and closed the door behind him. “Get your clothes and get the fuck out!” he called through the door. Dax dropped his head into his hands. “No... Shit, shit, we can't...” The aches of his body told him otherwise though. He got up with the blanket wrapped around his waist, and looked for his clothes. He found them on the floor and pulled on his boxers before hobbling to the door, opening it again. His eyes found Kent standing in his kitchen watching his coffee pot drip. “Kent,” Dax said getting the bear man's attention. “We need to talk about this.” “We absolutely do not,” Kent growled. “Your bags are there.” Dax looked down to find his and Nathan's overnight bags at his feet. “I need to call Nathan... Let me borrow your phone.” Kent huffed and went through his kitchen drawers before he pulled out a smartphone and tossed it to Dax. Dax wasn’t prepared and fumbled it, but his managed to catch it. “Be careful! These things are fragile and expensive...” Kent just shrugged. Dax tried to turn it on but he got nothing but an empty battery symbol. “It's dead...” “Yep.” “You have to keep it charged up,” Dax said. “Where's the charger?” Kent frowned. “Don't know.” Dax groaned in frustration. “Have you ever charged it?” Kent shook his head. “Nope.” “So, I imagine you never took the charger out of the box,” Dax assumed. “Do you have the box?” Kent opened the same drawer again and pulled out the box onto the counter. Dax went over, giving the bear man wide berth, and took the box before going through it. He pulled out the phone charger and looked around for an outlet. “Hopefully this thing charges fast,” he said as he found an outlet by the light switch and plugged it in. “Although it'll be a pain if you never even set it up...” “It's set up,” Kent said. “It went off a whole lot before it crapped out.” “It just lost charge,” Dax said. “It's probably like brand new. They even provided you a case and screen protector. I wish people gave me free thousand dollar phones...” “That thing costs a thousand dollars?” Kent exclaimed. “You have to be kidding me!” “No, this looks like the latest device...” Dax said. “I can't google it right now, but these big brand ones can run you anywhere from $1000 to $1900 depending on if it's the fancy version or not.” “Shit, you ain't joking...” Kent went over and picked up the phone where it was charging. “If I'd known, I would've pawned it off immediately...” “Good thing you didn't since you're going to have to use it if you want to be in contact with your kids,” Dax said crossing his arms. Kent sneered. “I’d just buy a normal land phone.” “Um, you're off the grid. Your house literally isn't near any telephone lines. It's a miracle you have cell reception in the first place.” Kent groaned and put the phone down. “Still though... How am I supposed to use this thing anyway? There's no real buttons and my hands are too big." “No, they're not. Look, there's accessibility settings in the phone to help you out if you really need it,” Dax said, picking up the phone to see if it had enough charge to turn on. He got a happy little jingle and the logo appeared. “Yes! Alright, after I call Nathan, I'll show you how to use it.” “Don't need it,” Kent said firmly. Dax frowned. He stood up straight and looked Kent dead in the eyes. “Look, asshole. You have been nothing but rude to me this entire visit. I get it. I'm the other guy. I'm the one Nathan chose to raise his kids with. I'm the one in the way of you having a happy little family or whatever... But I'm really not your enemy. Nathan has said a lot of bad things about you, but I gave you the benefit of the doubt because I didn't know you. I even tried to convince him to bring the kids up to meet you in the first place. And now that we're here, I still think you deserve to see your kids, but you need to show me at least a tiny ounce of respect. I'm literally just trying to help you. Nathan, like everyone else in the ‘First World’, is smartphone dependent. If you can't use one, he's not going to bother trying to reach you some other way, and you're not going to see your kids. Let me show you how to use the damn phone.” Kent crossed his arms and didn't say anything. Dax sighed and just tried to figure out if he could access his contacts online through Kent's phone. When he managed to log into his own account, he found Nathan's phone number and called it. After a couple rings, Nathan picked up. “Hello?” “Nathan, it's me, Dax!” “Dax? Oh, thank god... Are you alright?” “I think so... I'm at Kent's. I'm using his phone,” Dax explained. “Yeah, I'm on my way over now. APID tracked down your location, but they insisted on me waiting until they had everything under control around here before they let me come get you... I'm really glad you're okay. You really scared me last night.” “Nathan, I'm so sorry... I honestly have no idea how I even ended up here,” Dax said. “The thunderbird took over and I...I don't understand what happened to me... It's been years since I've lost control like this, and it's never been this bad...” “It's okay, babe. What matters is you're safe and it's over. I'm coming to get you. Just relax, okay?” “Yes, alright...” “Can I talk to Kent for a moment?” “Sure.” Dax offered the phone to the bear man. Kent took it and grunted into the receiver. “Nate?” “Yeah, hey... I'm coming to get Dax and you better be nice to him. He's freaking out, and I'm kinda freaking out too, so give him a break.” “Veggie boy's fine here,” Kent said. “Don't get your knickers in a twist.” “What state was he in when he got to your place? Did he cause any damage?” Kent hesitated. “...No, he just swooped in and passed out...” “Okay... Well, we're ten or fifteen minutes away. You can tell me everything when I get there.” “There's no everything, that's it. You should be telling me what the fuck happened for sparky to come bustin' in here in the middle of the damn night.” “Aw, did he ruin your beauty sleep, big boy?” “Shut up... Come get your boy toy and y'all can get the fuck out. Go back home and get my kids for me.” “That's pretty much the plan,” Nathan said. “You just have to uphold your side of the deal.” “I already trained you some, damn dog. I earned my time with my damn kids.” “You're gonna see them. Relax.” “I better.” “Give me back to Dax.” Kent handed the phone back before going to his room and closing the door behind him. “Nathan, I want to apologise again if I hurt you at all...” Dax said. “I never wanted you to see me at my worst...” “Dax, you've had to be there at my worst countless times already. I'm willing to do the same for you. I care about you.” “...Thank you, Nathan. That means a lot.” “I'll see you in ten, okay?” “Okay. See you soon.” “See you.” Dax hung up the phone and walked it over to Kent's bedroom. He knocked on the door gently. “Hey, let me show you how to make a call before Nathan gets here... Then you can show him what you learned.” The door opened and Kent stood there, looming over Dax. “...Are you plannin' on tellin' him what transpired last night?” Dax shuddered. “...I still don't know exactly what happened last night. You still need to fill me in on the details.” Kent set his jaw. “What do you want me to say?” Dax pursed his lips. “...If I cheated on Nathan, I need to know.” Kent glared at him. “Nothin’ happened!” “I know you're lying to me,” Dax said. “I know you're scared of being gay or having feelings for men and whatever, but this isn't just about you. My relationship is at stake here!” “You think I don't fuckin' know that?” Kent growled. “Do you think Nathan would let me see my damn kids if he found out I fucked his limp dick boyfriend?!” Dax stepped back, his body feeling weak suddenly. “Oh god... So we did... We actually did...” Kent grabbed Dax's shoulder. “Listen, celery stick. Nothin' happened if no one says anythin' happened. Got it?” Dax shook his head. “But what did happen? I don't remember a thing... Did you...did you take advantage of me?” “Advantage?” Kent snarled. “Are you insane? You came on to me! You came into my fuckin' room and tried to ride me!” “Maudite château de marde...Sacrament...” Dax rubbed his temples. “But you let me?” “Don't try to fuckin' blame me,” Kent growled. “There was something wrong with you, you had all these damn pheromones reekin’ up my damn room, I didn't have any damn control. The bear had control!” “I fucked a bear?!” Dax felt like he was gonna pass out. “Well, no. I was still mostly human,” Kent said. “It ain't that time.” “If you didn't transform, you were in control!” Dax said. “You didn't fuckin' transform and you weren't in no damn control!” Kent said. “I’m not a therianthrope, the Thunderbird has different levels of control, it's all complicated!” “Well, I'm complicated too, damn it! I ain't fuckin’ no man on purpose!” “Bullshit!” Kent grabbed Dax's arms and turned them both around before shoving him against the wall beside his bedroom door. “Listen, you little bitch!” Dax gasped in pain. “You're hurting me...” “Nathan ain't going to hear about this,” Kent growled. “Nothin’ happened. Do you understand?” Dax frowned looking up at Kent. “I'm not going to lie to him.” “I will fuckin' kill you,” Kent threatened. Dax didn't back down. “And then what? Nathan will be here in minutes with agent Hanover. You'd be arrested on the spot, sent back to the US, and they will execute you for real this time. You'll never meet your children and they truly will be the kids of a murderer.” Kent just glared at him a few more seconds and then he squeezed Dax's wrist, digging his thumbs in. “Why do you want to tell Nathan? You want to lose him?” “Of course, I don't, but I...” Dax bit his lip. “I understand what it's like to be cheated on. I know how horrible it feels to be lied to and to be made to feel guilty about something someone else did. But I love Nathan, and this was a mistake. The best chance for this all to work out the best possible way is to be honest and work through it together.” “...That's hippy crap,” Kent said. “He's going to kick your ass to the curb.” “Then...so be it,” Dax said. “But I trust Nathan to be a better person than that.” Kent just let go of Dax and walked back to the kitchen in a huff. He opened the fridge and pulled out a beer. Dax exhaled, his heart racing faster than he wanted to let on. He rubbed his wrists and found small punctures where Kent had dug in with his sharp nails. They bled a little. “I can still show you how to use the phone...” Dax offered, trying to be the better man. “I'll need a couple Band-Aids first, though...” Kent popped the lid off his beer with the edge of the counter. “Bathroom, under the sink. But don't bother with the damn phone. Nathan’ll be here soon...” “Well, if we got started, we'll at least look like we're getting along when he gets here,” Dax said as he went to the bathroom. Kent grunted. “Fine. But get dressed.” “You don’t have to tell me twice…”

[madeunmexico]

So that broadcast is going to be the end of him and this is Andrea at her peak bad behavior. I'm glad William called her out on it and that it prompted for some real talk with Lena. They almost admitted to their joint bad reactions. Setting that ending up.

Look, I'm annoyed about Lex but Nyxly is fun to watch as a villain. She doesn't want to be alone, sounds like someone else. Are we going back to the totem needing her to prove herself. And when Kara takes the totems back she no longer has to prove herself??? These are stupid. I get that there was no room for the gauntlet but show, YOU SET THE RULES, even if they're not consistent.

Nice that they went back to space for that fight, and that's the end of the metal suit. Good cause it was annoying.

Look I feel back for Brainy, although why couldn't I hear Winn!, but dude had no awareness that this is exactly what K/M went through when he asked him to leave because he was needed. The exact same speech!! Although the whole mixing with the big brain does sounds terrible, I'm not ok.

The sister moments have been missed but damn that was brutal. I know Alex is a new mom but Kara has experience. Thankfully it will be different for Esme and Alex will learn to be less reactive. And I'm glad that they talked it out and although they talked about Esme and Alex living their truth, Kara wasn't part of that assertion.

That was a fun party and of course they get interrupted with the worse news. These people may never dance again, I swear.

Look I knew it was going to happen but it sucked none the less. They have done such a good job at making William the moral voice this season and that relationship with Esme is absolutely adorable. Him helping her put on her pick sweater 🥺🥺

And the fact that he recorded his own death, fuuuu...sucked.

[anika-ann]

The 5 Times Steve Felt Betrayed - Pt.1

and the 1 Time He Felt Like He Was Betraying You

Type: mini-series to a series (part 1 & part 2 & Part 3),  Avenger!reader AU.

Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader, Matt Murdock & reader         

Word count (ch1): 2400

Summary: After the fiasco in Nigeria, the world is fed up with dealing with the Avengers’ mess. The Sokovia Accords are invented. It’s understandable that the team is divided.

But Steve would never expect that The Accords would wedge a split between the two of you as well. And he sure as hell wouldn’t expect your disagreement not to end there.

Warnings: mentions of cheating, talk about what happened in Lagos during CA:CW, langauge, angst? (I mean, check out the title)

A/N: So, this mini-series is a part of the Melting Hearts ‘verse and follows the events of CA: Civil War, sometimes only referencing and kinda expecting the readers to knwo what’s up ;) obviously some things will be slightly altered.

Will be posted in double chapters (1st &2nd time, 3th & 4th, 5th+1)

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1. (Cause & Consequence)

“Our people's blood is spilled on foreign soil. Not only because of the actions of criminals, but by the indifference of those pledged to stop them. Victory at the expense of the innocent… is no victory at all.”

Steve shut the TV down, placing the remote control on the table. His fingers went to massage the bridge of his nose.

It was everywhere – a month after the fiasco in Lagos, they were still talking about it in the news. This time it was the king of Wakanda speaking, questioning the activities of the Avengers team.

And during the past weeks, he had barely been the only one.

Steve was well-aware of their mistakes – of his mistake. The way he had lost it with Rumlow was unforgivable, especially with so many lives lost. Wanda might have been the one to send the exploding man into the building full of civilians, but Steve was watching the source of the tragedy every goddamn day in the mirror.

He had failed to deal with the HYDRA mercenary. Wanda had saved Steve’s life when she removed the burning man out of his reach, accidently blowing up a building. You had tried your best to put out the fire in the building with your powers, but the damage had already been done.

It had been a collective error. But Steve knew that if they hadn’t been in Nigeria in the first place, many more people would die. And it was what he was trying to hold onto, some days handling it better than others.

If the public thought they didn’t feel remorse at what had happened, they were very, oh so very wrong.

He winced when the voice of the reporter he had just shut down evaded his ears again, and frowned.

He knew it couldn’t be you – you weren’t home, which was just another thing to make him feel like crap. You were spending a lot of time away lately – Steve couldn’t help but wondering if it was his fault too, if he had driven you away with his dark thoughts.

And then there were moments when he wasn’t sure if it wasn’t simply you not being able to look at him, not seeing him in the same light as you had used to when you had said yes to his proposal.

Were you gone because you were judging him for freezing at Bucky’s name? For not handling the situation? He couldn’t help but feel a little betrayed. Loving someone… it shouldn’t be about expecting something back, but… after all the support he gave you whenever you were struggling? He thought you would be there for him.

But maybe it was just too much for you, dealing with yourself and comforting him at the same time – it would only confirm his theory about you feeling guilty for some of the victims.

However… why wouldn’t you try to deal with your own feelings with Steve? He was hundred percent sure you thought you could have done more, be there sooner, hell, stop the explosion yourself. He knew you felt like it was your failure as much as his and Wanda’s – or at least he believed so.

But why were you seeking shelter somewhere else? He was your fiancé – a person you had agreed to spend the rest of your life with – so why weren’t you with him in a time like this? Your relationship had been very intimate from the very beginning after all, only blossoming into more with time.

So why had you gone to see another man again? He couldn’t help the nagging pang of betrayal and jealousy. You always said you needed to see Matt Murdock. How could it not get into his very core and wound him there? Especially when after those meetings with Matt, you always seemed restless, jumping at the slightest of sounds, often escaping to the gym, claiming you needed few more moments alone.

“I’m sorry,” you would always say, a regretful smile on your lips, your gaze avoiding his. “I just… I guess I just need to hit something and I don’t want you to see me like that.”

And then you would hug him, kiss his cheek gently, sometimes pressing your lips to his for a split second and you’d be gone. Truth to your words, you would always come back exhausted, but somewhat calmer and offering affection with more urgency than usual to make up for the lost time.

Steve had no idea what to think about that or how to approach the matter.

What he knew he could do, however, was to walk into Wanda’s room and turn off her goddamn TV, because he was sure the voice was coming from there – no one had watched the news with more intensity than her, always coming after any new bits about the incident in Lagos so she could torture herself.

That girl was way too much like you.

“It’s my fault,” she stated when she acknowledged his presence. It was hard not to, since he had turned off the broadcast.

“That’s not true.”

“Turn the TV back on. They’re being very specific.”

“Well, what they say on TV is a load of— stupid things. We both know that I should have handled the situation way before you had to intervene. People died. And unlike what they say on the news – that’s on me,” he said, heavily seating himself next to her on her bed.

She gave him a sorrowful smile. “Well. I guess it’s on both of us.”

And not on the three of us, Steve’s mind supplied helpfully in an instant and he sighed at the intrusive voice in the back of his head.

“She’s out again. I’m sorry. She’s taking it pretty hard, especially considering it wasn’t her fault at all,” Wanda offered gently and Steve mentally cursed at the mind-reader slash empath slash million other things. “She’s afraid too. She worries for you, because of the way the mission affected you. But she’s not blaming you.”  

Steve eyed her, meeting her honest gaze full of compassion.

“Well, she could say that by herself, but she won’t. Instead…”

“You know… she was very fast at learning how to build a wall in her head to shield her thoughts from me. I can’t read her mind… but I can always tell there’s a lot on it when she comes back,” the Sokovian informed him and Steve stiffened.

Yeah, that was exactly the thing he did not want to hear.

“The thing is… she’s terrible at hiding her emotions. I… I’m not gonna pretend I don’t know what crosses your mind from time to time, I don’t need to read thoughts for that, or emotions. But I can tell you that she only has feelings for you, Steve. Her heart – it’s always with you. She’s carrying it on her sleeve, but it’s yours. You got yourself a good woman, Captain. A troubled one, sure,” she chuckled softly, apparently pleased she felt Steve’s relief. And relieved he was; you weren’t cheating on him. You weren’t thinking about cheating on him. You still loved him. You didn’t blame him. It was as if he could breathe again, indescribable weight falling off him. “But a loyal one and good one.”

Steve covered her hand with his, determined to sooth her as well. “Well. I knew from the beginning that you two were too much alike.”

“Thank you, Steve,” she smiled at him softly and Steve wished he wasn’t imagining the slightest relief in her eyes as well.

“No, Wanda. Thank you.”

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2. (Empty Promises)

The Sokovia Accords. A miraculous solution to the problem of the uncontrollable bunch of (mostly) superhumans that hold no responsibility for their action.

Go. To. Hell.

Steve wanted to burn the hundreds-pages document to ashes. It was nonsense. The document just shifted the blame to someone else and wanted to put all of them in check; in a way Steve didn’t like at all.

As long as he remembered, all he wanted was to do good – to serve his country, sure, but mainly to serve the people in it, serve a good purpose. And this regulation went straight against it. Hell, it went against the promise he had once made to the man who gave him the power to fight for a good cause, because he had thought Steve could value it. And he did. He heard Doctor Erskine’s voice as clearly as if he was sitting on the opposite bed at the Camp Lehigh, the night before the procedure.

‘Promise me, that you will stay who you are. Not a perfect soldier – but a good man.’

Being a perfect soldier meant obeying orders and not thinking twice it they meant doing the right thing or not. Being a good man meant standing for what he believed was good with his whole heart.

Signing this peace of— paper would go against everything he believed in.

“We’re not perfect, but the safest hands are still our own,” Steve finished the argumentation and that said it all.

He looked up at Tony with intense glare, his blue eyes gleaming with severity. The air felt too heavy to breathe, the silence itself weighting a ton.

It was your timid voice that cut it in the end and what you said made Steve’s heart ache.

“That’s not something all of us can say about themselves, Steve.”

His attention shifted to you, his lips parting at the well-known expression on your face. His shoulders slumped with a sigh.

Apparently, he had been right about Nigeria – you did feel guilty. And the beginning of your new life with powers had branded you forever as well; this was just another prove of that. A scar for life – the way you saw yourself after killing the scientists on accident, it was affecting you every goddamn minute of your existence and some were just more difficult than others.

“No matter the mistakes we have made, the lives lost on our watch – it doesn’t outweigh the good we’re doing,” he opposed you gently before turning back to Tony to make a point. “The good we might not be able to do if we sign.”

The billionaire huffed. “If we don’t do this now, it will be done to us later. That’s a fact. And it won’t be pretty.”

“You say they’ll come for me,” Wanda stated with scary steadiness to her voice and all eyes snapped to her.

“We would protect you.”

For some reason, Steve’s gut twisted at Vision’s measured voice. A discussion started all over again and Steve was slowly losing the grasp on who was on which side. He glanced your direction as you were observing the fighting team quietly, a troubled expression on your face – the very same he had seen all too often, every time you had come back to the compound.

With sudden urge to comfort you, he rose to his feet and made his way to you. It was when his phone vibrated in his pocket, announcing the worst possible news.

Peggy Carter had just died.

“I gotta go.”

────── ·❆· ──────  

You had gone to London with him, together with Sam. It was… difficult. Soul-crashing. Steve knew that this day would come, possibly very soon, but it hit him like a train, the blow knocking him to the ground.

The blows just kept coming and Steve would love to make a cheeky comment about him being able to do that all day, but this beating was hitting him on places that really, really hurt and he couldn’t bear it. He cried when he carried the casket. He didn’t have the capacity to feel ashamed for it.

God knew you had been there for him as a silent support the whole time; even when he was shamelessly staring at the woman he knew as a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent and she introduced herself as Sharon Carter. Peggy’s niece.

To be fair, it wasn’t just the revelation of her relation to Peggy or her appearance – it was her, quoting an amazingly strong and inspirational woman, who had, just like Steve, always only wanted to do the right thing. It moved him in a way he wouldn’t be able to put into words if anyone asked him to do so.

You had given him a moment alone only when he had asked for it – you had left the church with everyone else.

It surprised him when he heard the door opening again after what could be a minute; but it wasn’t you. It was Natasha. Bringing up the issue of The Sokovia Accords that Steve had backburned without even realizing it.

His opinion hadn’t changed and he refused to leave to Vienna with Natasha. It was when you replaced her in the otherwise empty church, approaching him slowly and timidly, when he realized that you were about to that though.

“You’re coming with her,” he stated, unable to keep the bitterness off his tone.

Just another punch into his solar plexus. Sure. He could do this all day.

Your smaller hand caught his, for once warmer than his own despite the cold air of the church. Your eyes were on his too, searching in his face. He didn’t have the strength to hide anything from you now.

“Unless you want me to… no, not now. I don’t need to sign publicly – I’m a long way from Black Widow’s popularity and fame.”

“You know that’s not true,” he opposed wryly, too weak to snatch your hand away.

It felt too heavy against his, almost foreign; he hadn’t known if you had made up your mind and decided to sign, not until that moment, not for sure. Now he did. Yet, there was a comfort he was seeking in your touch, because it was something that always helped to calm him down, ground him. He was vainly chasing after the feeling now.

Sensing his struggle, you hesitantly brought your hand up to cup his cheek; on instinct more than anything else, he leaned into the touch, closing his eyes. Your thumb skimmed over his skin, affectionate, giving.

“And you know I don’t need an audience,” you whispered. “I… I can’t imagine what you’re going through, Steve. I want to be here for you, if you want as well. Work can wait.”

Your words, your touch, your affection – it should all bring him peace, but it just wasn’t coming. His first true love had left this world, left him, and now it felt like you were leaving him too – leaving him behind and betraying an oath you had premised when you let him slip an engagement ring on your finger.

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Part 2 (the third and the fourth time)

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Thank you for reading!

I decided to post it here on tumblr in double-chapters, because they would be reatively short otherwise... but posting it as one monster chapter would be a bit much... I think.

Have a good start of your week!