#you reminded me i need to finish their character profiles

[tosahobi-if]

hi! do you have any ro descriptions?

posted here! but here are some smaller details + some updates:

jinwol: beauty mark under his right eye and under the right side of his lip. blue-black hair and eyes.

yul: mc's height + 1cm UNLESS the mc is under 168cm (5'6), as their minimum height is 169cm (~5'7)

iseul: pale green eyes, pin-straight, jet-black hair tied in a ponytail with a single braid.

xst: violet eyes with a lighter ring around the pupils. dark, thick hair usually tied up in a half-up half-down bun.

[just-here-with-my-thoughts]

"Just when were you planning on telling us that?"

@summer-of-bad-batch week 10 alt prompt

Fandom: The Bad Batch Characters: Wrecker, Hunter Set after season 3 when everyone is living happily on Pabu Word Count: ~1060 Read Here on AO3

Synopsis: Wrecker discovers that Hunter has been learning a new skill.

“Hunter? That you up there?”

Wrecker crested the rise of the hill, breathing slightly laboured from the climb in the Pabu sun. His stamina hadn’t been the same, not since the quick succession of injuries during their assault on Tantiss… but that was long ago now, wounds healed to silvery scars, and only the occasional tightness in his chest to act as a lingering reminder of the trauma his body had been through.

Hunter was sitting on a small promontory, and Wrecker was immediately suspicious of the flustered look oh his brother’s face, the way his arms were folded defensively across his chest.

“Yeah. It’s me. Why? Do you need me for something?”

The clipped sentences only added to the sense that Hunter was being disturbed from his lonely vigil, and Wrecker’s face creased with concern.

“No. Thought I heard music.”

Now Hunter’s cheeks coloured, and he quickly turned his face away so that only his tattooed profile showed, the dark ink on his skin hiding the effect somewhat. The afternoon breeze picked up the ends of his long hair, stirring it about his shoulders, which moved in a shrug.

“Must be mistaken. You get tinnitus sometimes. Maybe it was that.”

“Yeaah,” said Wrecker slowly, disbelievingly. “But tinnitus don’t usually sound so melodic, y’know?”

He ventured across the small distance that separated him from his brother. Hunter shifted in response, moving his body deliberately as though to block Wrecker’s path… or perhaps his view.

“What’re you hidin’, Hunter?”

“Nothing,” said Hunter fiercely, but his scowl was too petulant to be taken seriously. “Just… enjoying some time to myself. What do you want, Wrecker?”

“I definitely heard music,” Wrecker deadpanned, mirroring Hunter’s folded arms and letting the weight of his gaze settle on his squirming brother. “An’ singing.”

“I wasn’t–” came the beginnings of Hunter’s defensive reply, before he met his brother’s gaze and deflated somewhat. “–singing that loudly,” he finished, his brows twisting in a small, embarrassed frown.

“Hah!” A delighted crow escaped Wrecker as he dumped his weight next to his brother, landing a friendly if too-hard punch on his shoulder which made Hunter wince. “Knew I heard something! Where was the music comin’ from? You got a recording?”

He was leaning to look past Hunter now, not difficult with their height difference, although Hunter still made a valiant effort to block his view.

“No. Just… drop it, Wrecker.” Hunter’s voice was even gruffer than usual, the words muttered sullenly.

“Is that a guitar?”

“No!” A blatant refutation of the truth.

“You’re learnin’ to play guitar? Jus’ when were you plannin’ on telling us that?”

“Wrecker!” The sharp note of command entered Hunter’s voice, admonishing, and despite himself it had Wrecker straightening to attention.

Hunter glared for a moment more, than sighed and reached behind him, carefully lifting the small guitar and passing it to his brother.

Wrecker turned the instrument reverently, placing his large fingers on the strings and giving it an experimental strum. Then he extended it back to Hunter, beaming.

“Play for me.”

That drew an immediate scoff. “No way.”

“C’mon Hunter! Please? I heard it whilst I was passin’ down below. I climbed all the way up here to see what it was.”

Hunter’s sullen blush was firmly back, lips pursed in a thin line as he looked away from Wrecker’s scrutiny.

“I’m not very good.”

Wrecker nudged their shoulders together, swaying them both.

“Yer only gonna get better with practice.”

“I…” Hunter’s hesitation ended in a long, bitter exhale. “It’s a waste of time. It’s not a skill I can use. It’s no use to anyone on the island.”

“But?” prompted Wrecker gently, when the silence between them had lingered too long.

Hunter reached out slowly and took the guitar back, fingering the strings and then tweaking the tuning of one of them to his liking.

“But I like how it sounds.” It was a confession in a small voice, whispered in confidence to the wind and the sky and his waiting brother.

“Who’s been teachin’ you?” asked Wrecker, but Hunter shook his head.

“No-one. I’ve just been figuring it out myself.”

“Play for me,” Wrecker asked again, but this time his voice was gentle and he ducked his head to peer into his brother’s face. “Please?”

With a reluctant frown, Hunter carefully positioned his hands and picked out a slow tune. The melody lilted, a little erratic as he paused to consider where he was moving his fingers, but every note a beautiful harmony with the next.

Wrecker was beaming from ear to ear. “Hunter, you’re good,” he said, softening the brash edge of his enthusiasm to something tender and encouraging. “An’ you sing as well?”

Grimacing, but before needing to be prompted, Hunter added a low, crooning accompaniment to his playing. He sung almost under his breath, his always smoky voice rough and unpolished yet forming a perfect accompaniment for his hesitant but melodious guitar tune.

When he finished, he quickly discarded the guitar and pulled his knees up to his chest, hooking his elbows over them and gazing out distantly over the island which dropped away from their elevated position.

“Don’t tell anyone,” he said, a gruff plea.

“Why not?” asked Wrecker, bemused. “Hunter, y’know it’s okay to… to learn a skill that doesn’t feed people or put a roof over their heads, right?”

Hunter merely shrugged.

Wrecker carefully examined the tense line of his brother’s shoulders, then draped his arm around him and pulled him into a one-armed hug.

“Thanks for playing for me.”

Hunter’s exhale was shaky with nerves. “That’s okay,” he muttered, leaning carefully into Wrecker’s side.

The brothers sat together in silence for a time, watching the seabirds wheel against the cloud-strewn sky.

“You could play at the solstice festival,” he suggested after a while.

Hunter snorted a soft laugh. “What part of ‘don’t tell anyone’ did you not understand?”

“Will you at least play for me and Omega? At home?”

Hunter tucked himself sulkily under Wrecker’s arm. “I’ll think about it.”

Wrecker tilted his head, resting his cheek on Hunter’s hair

“You’re smart. And skilled. At more than jus’ war.”

He felt the shudder of Hunter’s body as he sighed out some of his tension, body uncoiling just a little.

“Thanks, Wrecker,” he said, voice low and heartfelt. “You’re the best.”

[steppin-on-the-last-train]

Happy Xmas (War Is Over)

Natasha Romanoff x Taskmaster!Reader

Summary: Settling down within S.H.I.E.L.D hasn't been easy, but Christmastime is here, and Clint Barton extends an invitation that seems too good to be true. You follow him to his farmhouse where you're met with a few surprises. With Natalia by your side, you try to accept your new life in America, and maybe find some holiday spirit along the way.

Foreword: Happy Holidays everyone! This is a beast of a fic (14.5k words) so strap in. It's also very much an original character just written in second person, but I hope you enjoy.

You sat slouched on a sofa in the common room of SHIELD headquarter’s residential wing. You weren’t sure why the designers had felt the need to include this room. Spies weren’t well known for their extroverted nature. But the holidays had left the area quiet, rather the entire building seemed to have wound down with the slowing nature of the cold and snow outside. You found the space to be useful when you became sick of staring at the same four blank walls of your standard issue apartment. Having recently defected from Russian ranks you and Natalia weren’t allowed to leave campus without an escort, which left you exactly three places to spend downtime. Your room, Natalia’s room–which looked exactly like yours save for a book Barton had given her–or the common area. 

The two of you were working on the latest mission report. Well, you were supposed to be working on the write-up, but the end of year evaluations had been released and yours begged to be raked over. So Natalia worked on hers, fingers diligently tapping away at the keys. She was sitting sideways along the couch, legs lounged over your lap and back to the armrest. You didn’t know how she found the position comfortable. You narrowed your eyes at your computer screen and the unkind words it harbored. “Do you think I am uncooperative and have a tendency to disobey the orders of superiors?” You asked the redhead.

She looked up from her laptop, eyes searching your profile. “Where is this coming from?”

“The end of year assessments,” you frowned. “They are out.” 

“I thought we were working on the reports for the Minsk mission.” She raised a reprimanding eyebrow. 

“I was,” you said, dragging out the second word ever so slightly. “But they are just so tedious now. Why do they need to know the amount of bullets I used? I miss when all we had to do was take a photo of the dead guy for proof of accomplishment.” Natalia nudged your ribs with her foot. “Ow,” you complained.

“We do this because it’s the normal thing to do. Because what we do in the field is necessary, but the violence has to be justified so we can continue doing our jobs.” She tucked a strand of hair that had escaped from her braid behind her ear. “We’re with the good guys now,” she reminded gently. “The world may still be brutal, but we don’t have to be anymore.”

“So we count the bullets,” you concluded.

“So we count the bullets,” she stated. A moment of silence passed, only the sound of Natalia resuming her typing filling the air. That was something you were still getting used to. Silence always preceded something terrible, the inhale before you faced hell on earth. “You are uncooperative.”

“What?” You asked, turning to face her indifferent expression.

“Your question from earlier. I’m answering it.”

“You too?” You shook your head. “You are supposed to take my side, not Fury’s.”

“You are the person who let themselves get captured by the enemy after you heard they’d gotten to me. And,” she paused, “if you finished that report you’d get to the part where you chose not to listen to Agent Riley.”

“I had it handled,” you said, reaching for your coffee cup on the side table.”That man thinks he knows what is better just because he has fifteen years on me. I think he is too cautious. That is why the Americans are leagues behind us in intelligence. They do not have the guts to do what needs to be done.”

“We are Americans now,” she reminded. You wrinkled your nose. “I mean for all intents and purposes, you get that.” She put her laptop on the coffee table and sidled next to you. You could feel her warmth bleed into you where your bodies met. Her knees pressed into your legs, her shoulders turned into your chest. “You can do it, I know you can,” she whispered, taking your hand.

“Do what?” You asked dubiously. 

“Beat them. Unlearn what they taught us. You just have to make an effort.” She put a hand on your cheek, fingertips caressing the side of your face. You almost swore she wanted you to kiss her. You swallowed down nothing but a bubble of air and desire. Not today.

You looked at her, gaze narrowing. “I am here, am I not?” Two large windows allowed the morning light to stream in behind Natasha and wash her in a fresh aura. The blue sky shined bright as fat snowflakes whirled down to meet the pavement of the U.S. capital. Far below, pedestrians hustled from building to building, jackets pulled tight against the cold. Your heart began to pound when you thought about calling this place home. Everything was just so wrong. “I think fighting the urge to run is about all I can manage right now. I believed in the cause, at least I think I did. Turning my back on the Red Room, on him any faster and I think I might break.”

“I know, and I see you. But you have to show them that,” she said, tapping the now black computer screen.

“Like you do? Do not tell me you actually trust anyone here.”

“I don’t,” she said carefully, as if there might exist an exception. “But you have to cooperate, to let someone else take the reins for now.”

“I do not know if I can.” You bit your lip and traced the room with your eyes. The clean, modern furniture and the off-white walls. You knew you shouldn’t but you missed the familiarity of the old wooden mansion. “I am not like you Talia. I cannot see the good in people.”

“And I’m not asking you to. Do you trust me?” She asked, eyes that reminded you of the dawn of spring boring into yours.

“Always,” you breathed, not missing a beat. “You are the only thing in this world that makes sense to me.”

“Then follow my lead. I’m worried about you. I don’t want you digging a hole you can’t climb out of.”

“Okay, I will try.” You were not sure you meant it. Humanity given too much freedom would eat itself alive. A familiar mantra marched across the back of your mind like the incessant buzz of an insect. Correct and control. Correct and control. Correct and control. Correct–

A noise from down the hall caught your attention. Quick footsteps heading your way echoed into the room. You looked at Natalia. The two of you had thought everyone else had left the building for the holidays. 

A frazzled Clint Barton walked into the room, looking about to take off in a full sprint. He wore faded blue jeans and a flannel shirt with the sleeves rolled halfway up his forearms. A duffel bag hung over his shoulder, storing a fair amount of his belongings if you had to guess. He glanced in your direction, but refused to slow his stride. You watched him go, when suddenly he dug his heel into the ground and spun around.

“What are you guys doing here?” He asked as if just now processing your presence. 

“Working,” Natalia answered. You liked Barton well enough and there was no question that you owed him an unpayable debt for sparing Natalia’s life. He looked unassuming, quick to smile and kept a short crop of hair as blonde as a field of wheat. You weren’t quite on casual speaking terms though, not because he bothered you, no. It’s just you weren’t keen to talk to anyone except the girl still halfway sprawled across you. 

He furrowed his brow and adjusted the strap across his shoulder. “It’s Christmas Eve,” he stated plainly, as if that in itself was explanation enough. 

“It is,” Natalia agreed. 

“Well you can’t sit in here all day.” He made a sweeping gesture about the room and all of its bareness and almost surgical detachment. His gaze lingered on you for a moment, silent surprise weaving its way across his face. Feeling off put, you fixed your posture, spine straightening and causing Natasha to slide away. You had yet to encounter him outside of a professional setting, but here you sat wedged into the couch and rather at ease. You wore sweats, albeit SHIELD issue, but still something you’d normally not be caught around in.

“And why is that?” Natalia asked, tone laced with faux confusion. She blinked at Barton, eyes doe-wide.

He shifted his stance and rubbed the back of his neck. “You’re really going to make me say it?” He waited, looking at Natalia indignantly. “It’s sad. You can’t stay at work during Christmas.”

“What would you suggest we do?” She asked, still playing her one-sided game. Bemusing to you, but not so much to the Hawkeye.

“I don’t know. Go home? That’s what I’m doing.” Home, you thought. If you ran back to the place you still called home, SHIELD would call for your head. Even still, the house beckoned out to you in your dreams; not warm, never safe, but structured and oh so familiar. Come home my child, a gruff voice compelled. Come and take your rightful place as my sword and shield. 

Something behind Natasha’s eyes flickered for a moment before disappearing behind a wall of apathy. “There’s not exactly a home for me to go back to.”

“Oh. That’s right. Erm,” Barton stammered. “I’m sorry. Sometimes I forget.”

“Forget that I’m an outsider?”

“That’s one way to put it I suppose. I mean, you’re one of us now, right? We all come from different places so in a way we’re all outsiders. Most of us have pasts we’d rather forget. You don’t do the kind of thing we do because you grew up with two loving parents,” he said.

Natalia tilted her head, hair brushing against your neck. “And where did you come from?”

He smiled, one side of his mouth pulled slightly higher than the other. “Nice try Romanoff. Put a couple of beers in me first and you might have better luck.”

“Oh that’s right, I forgot. Fury found you wandering around the sewers,” she teased. You didn’t know who she did it. How she joked and spoke so freely. How she saw a friend and ally where you saw a threat and a future enemy.

“Ha ha,” he said dryly, lips still curled in a smile. “You’re actually not too far off.” He waited before saying more, eyes flicking to you as they often did when the three of you gathered together. Patiently offering a chance for you to join the conversation, but never calling you out. You were running out of excuses to mistrust the man. “Even still, you guys ought to get out of here. Drive to New York or something. They put up a giant tree in Times Square. I’ve never seen it in person, but,” he raised an arm for emphasis. “Huge.”

This time Natalia’s expression fell for long enough even Barton picked up on it. She turned away from him and stared down at her hands. “I’d love to see that,” she murmured. “We can’t leave though. Not yet. Not without an escort from an authorized superior.” Technically there was nothing stopping you from leaving the building. You’d picked up the nasty habit of prowling the streets in the dead hours of the morning after a nightmare left your hands shaky and your heart clawing its panicked way up your throat. Natalia however had not made one move even remotely close to toeing SHIELD’s strict line. A fact made clear when she’d caught you sneaking back in as the sun rose one morning. You’d promised not to do it again with an overwrought frown on your face. You went out again the very next night and left a mugger to bleed out in an alleyway.

“Oh, that’s right.” It was Barton’s turn to look away. “You know what?” He asked, lifting his chin and pulling out a cell phone. He let the duffle bag down from his shoulder and onto the ground, putting the phone to his ear. Natalia looked at you and you shrugged. She knew him better than you anyway.

“Hey honey,” he said, not bothering to turn away or lower his voice. You didn’t know he had a girlfriend. Between the way you had only ever seen him consume pizza and his obsession with trying to make the most difficult shots possible on missions you had assumed he was single. “I’ve got a pair of stragglers here at the office.” He paused, sucking on his teeth for a moment. “I know, I know I was just about to get on the road I promise. I’ll still be home by five. No, I’ll be careful, I won’t get a speeding ticket this time.” He adjusted the phone and flicked his gaze in your direction. “Yeah, Laura, it’s them. You know me. They don’t have anywhere to go and I thought.” He paused. Slowly, a dopey grin curled onto his face. “Yeah, I do. You know I wouldn’t suggest it if I didn’t.” A final pause. “Okay. I’ll see you later. Love you.” He stuffed the phone back in his pocket and looked up with new excitement sparkling in his eyes. “Have you guys ever been to Iowa?”

Natalia shook her head. “No. I’ve got a soft spot for the Midwest though.”

“Well, what are you waiting for? Go pack for a few days. Laura’s going to kill me if I’m another minute late,” he said, hoisting the bag over his shoulder. 

Natalia’s eyes went wide and she opened her mouth, speechless. Even you were taken aback. Was Barton really inviting you to his home? Certainly he didn’t trust you yet. You hadn’t even been at SHIELD for a year, the first six months of which you spent firmly locked in a cell. Yet there he stood, hands in his pockets and waiting for you to move your ass and follow him out. “I didn’t,” Natalia started. “When I said we couldn’t leave I wasn’t asking for you–”

“Nope. Don’t do that. I want to. You guys are never going to be comfortable here if you’re not extended some freedom. Trust me, I know.” You watched the other man with suspicion, waiting for the trap to spring. The SHIELD agent who had spared Natalia’s life when he had explicit orders to put an arrow through her heart. The American who believed in the good in people and making the world a less gruesome place in the small way he could. The person who extended a hand to others in a time of crisis. “I used to spend Christmas alone and cold without a home. Then I got Laura and I couldn’t be happier. But it can get lonely just the two of us out there. If you really would rather stay here I won’t force you to come,” he said matter-of-factly. “But I would really appreciate the company, and I know Laura would love to meet the two of you.”

Natalia shifted, putting one foot on the floor. She looked at you and you knew she wanted to go, but wouldn’t if you said no. But oh, you would do anything for her. Subtly you nodded. You didn’t care how much you were struggling, you’d pull yourself together for the weekend. “We’re in.”

You pushed yourself off the couch and went back to your room to pack what little you had. All of your clothes were plain which you didn’t mind, but something about knowing they were SHIELD issue left you feeling claustrophobic. You gripped a black dress shirt in your hand a little tighter than you needed to. To you it screamed, you are not free. We own you now. You threw your toothbrush and toothpaste in alongside the clothes before stopping at the bedside table. Carefully you pulled open the drawer and snagged a little necklace from inside. Tucking it into a side pocket you jogged out to find Natalia and Barton waiting in the lobby.

Barton’s truck was nowhere near extravagant, but it held a sort of coziness that only came from years of ownership. Natasha sat in the passenger seat while you took the back, wincing when you found the lack of legroom. The interior smelled of old air freshener, dirt, and worn leather. “Strap in,” he said. “We’ve got a long ride ahead of us.”

Barton tuned the radio to play Christmas music and introduced you to his atrocious singing as he belted along to ‘Santa Claus is Comin’ to Town’. As you left the thick jungle of Washington D.C. and moved west across Virginia the city whipped away as the sun traveled across the sky. When you reached the interstate proper and were well away from the prying eyes of the urban center you finally allowed yourself to relax a little. Natalia began to hum along to a new song, a small smile on her face. Barton turned the volume up a notch and you leaned your head against the cool window pane, eyes tracking the snow covered countryside. 

At a gas station in Ohio Natalia asked to switch seats with you. She curled up in the back using a sweatshirt as a pillow and closed her eyes, pretending to sleep. You checked the rearview every few minutes and eventually she had fallen asleep for real, lips parted slightly and breathing slowing down. 

Barton had given up on his singing endeavor and had reduced himself to whistling and tapping the steering wheel to the beat of the radio. As you passed a sign welcoming you to Indiana he spoke up. “Okay, truth time,” he said, stealing a concerned glance at you before staring back at the two lane road before him. The truck's wheels ate up yards of the sun bleached asphalt. “Can I be honest with you?”

“Yes,” you said.

“Don’t take this the wrong way but you’re not gonna kill me in my sleep tonight, right?” He asked, trying his best to clear the nerves from his voice.

“No. I like you, Barton. And even if I did not I owe you a great debt,” you said. 

A crease formed on his brow. “A debt?”

You looked back at the woman sleeping soundly in the back of the truck. Her feet were tucked up on the seat, head laying on a sweatshirt stuffed in between the window and the headrest. You thought it might have been the most at peace you’ve ever seen her. “Yeah,” you breathed. “For giving her a better life.” One that I never could, you thought.

“I didn’t do it looking for any favors. Not from her, and certainly not from you or Fury,” he insisted. “Fury was pissed of course. He knew who I was when he hired me, but I still think he underestimated my loyalty to my gut. And you,” he said, nodding in your direction. “You were a wildcard no one saw coming.”

“Good or bad?” You asked, already sure of the answer.

“To be honest, I’m not sure yet. I think that’s still up to you,” he said.

You held a groan back. Moral dilemmas made your head ache. You’d wanted a straight answer. Tell me how to be good. “What do you mean?”

 He ran a hand through his hair, spiking it up in three different ways. “Well, you’re good out in the field. Like scary good, and I know you’ll watch my back. That’s the most important thing,” he said. “But then we get back and I see you pacing around the compound like you’re stuck in a cage. I guess I’m just not sure what’s going through your head.”

You clenched and unclenched your fist, overcome with the urge to tell the other man more than you’d told any of the SHIELD shrinks in a year. He felt safe and genuine, but you knew that was an impossibility; you knew people to be horrid pretenders. You opened your mouth anyway, Natalia’s urges for you to try ringing in your ears. “I can follow orders on a mission no problem. Shut off my brain and listen to authority. Protect your team, take the shot, retrieve the files. That is what I was built for,” you sighed, eyeing Barton warily. Waiting for him to snap at you. “But when the job is done, and I have time to sit and think on it…I feel like I have just ripped myself in half.” 

“That’s, well, that’s some intense shit,” he said, tipping his head. “What I can tell you though, with absolute certainty, is that General Dreykov is a bad man. For me, for SHIELD, for her…” Clint said. You knew very well who he was referring to. “There’s no gray area there, man. We’re going to shut him down.”

“I know," you said, short and quick. You knew that's what they all said, but Dreykov had protected you for a long time. He had raised you. He had loved you as his own. You didn't want to see him in a cell, or worse, in a grave. “I cannot get it straight in my head. Everyone has been telling me that working for SHIELD is a step toward being better, to making something of myself. If that is true, then how come the longer I am here the more I feel like I am betraying everything that makes me me?” You knew why. Something inside you was broken and twisted beyond repair. It made you see the world backward. Everyone around you could smell the festering rot of the mangled heart inside your chest. They just needed an excuse to put you down for good.

“Well, you are just about the most Russian person I’ve ever met,” he said. You tried your very best not to glare at him when he looked over. “Before about five minutes ago the only sentences I’d ever heard you speak were two word acknowledgements in the field. And the accent. You’re playing it up, right?”

“Maybe a little.” You were more than capable of fixing it and putting on an American one, but you felt entitled to keep this little part of yourself. To remind yourself and everyone else where you came from. The pressure to conform was a constant torrent but you refused to let them win, for better or for worse.

“As for actual advice…I would say don’t look at it from a good versus bad perspective. In this field, none of us are really good. Not even at SHIELD. I don’t care what some of those righteous assholes think. Forget what anyone told you before and what anyone tells you now,” he said, drumming his fingers along the steering wheel. “Take a step back and compare the before and the now. How did it make you feel?” He asked, stressing the you. “What cause do you believe in? Tough thing is there’s not a right and a wrong answer. Took me a hell of a long time to figure out what I thought about it all. I used to operate strictly outside of the law and now I’m a fed,” he said, shrugging. “Just know I’m rooting for you.”

“And if I come to a conclusion you do not agree with?”

“I’ll make sure to give you a headstart,” he said, winking and throwing you a playful smirk.

“Ah, I am grateful Barton,” you said, cracking a smile. It felt good, like feeling the sun on your face after being inside for a long time. You reveled in the feeling while it lasted.

“No. No more of that Barton stuff. It’s Clint.” He said, shaking his head. “Unless we’re on a mission. Then it’s Hawkeye.”

“The infamous Hawkeye. Tell me, Clint. Where do you get a name like that?” You could tell he was fond of the alias.

“Would you believe me if I told you it’s from the circus?”

A million questions crowded your mind. You looked over, mouth hanging open. You didn’t know much about circuses. They had shown you all a cartoon once about an elephant that had giant ears and could fly. It led the other circus animals in a rebellion against the human handlers. In the end the ringmaster cut its ears off and strung them up as a lesson against exceptionalism. “You were in the circus?” You asked.

“Even better,” he answered. “I was raised up in one.”

“Did you have elephants?”

“No,” he scoffed, chuckling. “We were classier than that. All acrobats and good old fashioned theatrics. I used to sharpshoot. Struck apples off of people’s heads. That sort of thing. Although when I wasn’t on stage I was running through the audience, taking wallets out of pockets.”

You squinted your eyes at him. “Baby Barton raising hell. I can see it. And it would explain the mess in here.” You scuffed your shoe on the floor, stirring up bits of dirt and dried mud. Items crowded the backseat next to Natalia. A winter coat, a pair of sneakers, a hunting knife, handle worn from use. The cupholders were stuffed with old receipts and loose change, and something rattled in the glove box everytime the truck took a left turn. 

“It’s messy in here?” He asked, glancing about the cabin. “I don’t think it’s too bad.”

“You are funny.”

“No, I'm being completely serious. Doesn’t everyone’s car kinda look like this?” His bewilderment would be slightly endearing if you weren’t such a neat freak.

“No, not really. I will help you clean over the holiday,” you said, leaving no room for protest. “I cannot stand the ride back like this.”

“If you insist. Just don’t throw anything out without running it by me. I promise everything in here is important.”

“Whatever you say,” you said, eyeing a stack of coffee cups wedged in the door.

“Can I ask something? I mean, I don’t want to overstep.” You were learning Clint did not do well with silence. 

“Go ahead.”

“What’s the deal with you and Natasha? Are you dating? It’s been killing me trying to figure the two of you out.”

“No, uh, we are not,” you stuttered. “We are friends.” Even that label seemed to hold too much weight. You weren’t supposed to have friends. And to befriend one of the Widows no less. You were above them, primed to not only serve the Red Room, but to be the embodiment of its crusade. Dreykov’s right hand. The Taskmaster. 

Clint had the nerve to scoff. “I’ve seen you just about butcher an entire compound of enemy combatants without batting an eye. And you can never ever tell Fury this but you intimidate the other agents more than he does.” He took one hand off the wheel and stretched it out, flexing his fingers. “And as far as I can tell the only person who can get you to listen to anyone but yourself…” He pointedly stared at the rearview mirror. “I didn’t even recognize you earlier back at SHIELD. You looked so, unagitated. Like you finally managed to dislodge that stick up your ass.”

“Ha, ha,” you laughed dryly. “You know, I am going to find something to shove up your ass.”

“You were letting her lay on you like a cat. You can’t tell me you guys haven’t slept together.”

You glared at his profile until he got the hint and faced you. “That is none of your business.”

“Okay, okay. I’m sorry I crossed a line,” he said. Your chest twisted with an unfamiliar sensation. One that made its way to your face in not quite a smile, but certainly an expression of gratitude. You bit down hard on the inside of your cheek. Apologies were new for you. 

“It is alright,” you said, vehemence leaving your voice. “It is just complicated. We had,” you hesitated and took a deep breath. “We had more than we should have in, um…before. They tried to keep us apart, make me think she was as heartless as the rest of the world.” You stared out the windshield, not willing to risk eye contact with Barton. A bug came flying at the truck and splattered green guts right in your eyeline. “And for a while I believed them. I hated her. But I was wrong. It is actually the opposite. Natalia is just, she is good. She stupidly stuck by me and dragged my head up from the sand when I was intent on suffocating myself.” 

“I’m no expert, just a guy with a wife and a couple of kids, but that sounds a damn lot like love to me,” he said. 

A choir of sardonic voices roused to action in the forefront of your mind. What do you know of love? You bite the hand that needs you, do you understand? You bite it clean off. A bitter laugh lunged from your throat before you could stop it. “You are wrong. Love is a fantasy to hold over the heads of the masses.”

“Wow.” Clint blinked dramatically, twice. “I didn’t think it was possible, but you just got even more Russian.”

“Fuck off, Hawkeye,” you said, grinning freely. 

 “Seriously though, I’ll never understand what you guys went through. Not in any way that counts, but the fact you made it out together tells me how fucking strong the both of you are.” He flicked his gaze to you. “There’s something there for you to think about too, but you gotta find it on your own.”

But you would rather take a knife to the chest than admit to harboring any sort of four letter words for Natalia. “Wait, you have a kid?” You asked, turning the conversation back on Barton.

“Yeah,” he said, smile reaching up to crinkle the corners of his eyes. “I have two now, if you can believe it. My oldest is Cooper. He’s a little over three. Lila is the baby. They’re why I was a little nervous about bringing you out. My number one priority, before SHIELD, before the mission, before myself are those kids.”

“And you were driving me all this way worried that I would turn on you? That I might hurt your kids?”

“Well, you know. Don’t trust anyone, especially other spies. Especially Russian spies if you’re American. I was fairly sure, but there was a voice in the back of my head asking ‘what if,’ and I had to ask,” he admitted.

You wanted to tell him you’d never hurt a little kid. That he shouldn’t have worried. Except you had, so so many times before. “How do you feel now?” You asked instead.

“A lot better. Glad to know you’re not a robot.” Silence grew as the radio paused in between songs. You laid back against the seat and watched the plains rush by outside. The speakers came back to life and a new sickeningly cheery jingle began to play. “I love this one,” Clint said, turning the volume back up. He hummed with contentment and drummed his fingers on the wheel, looking over at you. “I am going to teach you all about the joy of Christmas music, just you wait.”

“Oh, great,” you remarked wryly. The small grin on your face however betrayed your stark tone. Maybe this place wasn’t so bad after all.

—

The old Chevy fought its way up the snow covered path toward the farmhouse in the middle of the field. White and red lights hung from the roof and wrapped the pillars of the porch in heartwarming hues. A little plastic snowman stood ambassador to the front door, waving a mittened hand and welcoming the incoming entourage. Clint parked a couple dozen yards from the house, grumbling about how he’d have to dig the truck out before he left again. Natalia hopped out, eyes wide as she took in the home. Your breath puffed out in visible clouds, but you hardly felt the cold. You were raised in the deathly Russian winters. 

The front door cracked open, a woman standing silhouetted in the warm light behind her. “Clinton Francis Barton! You better get inside right now,” she said, a wide smile brightening her voice.

“Clinton?” Natalia asked, walking close behind Barton up to the porch.

“Yeah, yeah. Now you know my biggest secret.” He trudged up the stairs, snowflakes dusting his shoulders and hair. Laura met him in the doorway with a kiss. “Sorry we’re a little late,” he said.

“You’re excused this time, but only because you brought guests,” she said. Up close you could see she had big brown eyes and brown hair that fell to her shoulders. The inside of the house beckoned, the haze of meat and pine wafting outside. You dragged your feet along the stairs. You didn’t belong here. “Get inside now, you’re letting all the heat escape.” She patted Barton on the butt as he trod inside, fondness lacing her eyes as she looked after him. Natalia stood at the entryway, not yet stepping up into the house. “I mean you two as well,” Laura insisted, ushering you through the door.

“Daddy!” A little boy came barrelling around a corner, wrapping his arms around Clint’s leg and staring up at him with a toothy grin. The house immediately opened up into the living room, a worn brown couch facing a fireplace and an evergreen tree adorned with ornaments and twinkling lights. To your left a staircase spiraled upward and disappeared to a second floor. You stomped your shoes off on a welcome mat, watching the slush melt away. 

A drumbeat of footsteps pattered your way and suddenly the child was wrapped around your leg, his fingers digging into your calf. Your muscles tensed and you began to lift your leg to shake him off, heart in your throat.

“Coop!” Laura scolded. “I’m so sorry, I don’t know what’s gotten into him. He’s usually pretty shy around strangers.”

But Cooper didn’t listen and you didn’t kick him away. This kid was not a threat. He ogled up at you with wide eyes the same shade as his mother’s and hair somehow blonder than his father’s. “Hi. I’m Cooper,” he said with the grace of someone just learning to speak.

“Hi,” you said, heat rushing to your cheeks at being startled by a three year old. 

“Who are you?” He asked.

“I am a friend of your father’s,” you said, also telling him your name. 

“Looks like you’ve been replaced, Clint,” Laura teased. “Come on, buddy, let’s get up. Daddy’s got to show them upstairs.”

But he only sank down further, sitting firmly on your shoe and jutting his lip in a pout. “Walk with me.”

You looked at Natalia, a tender smile on her face. “It’s alright,” you told Laura. “I can take him upstairs.”

“Are you sure?” She asked. “I can make him get down.” 

“Yeah.” You couldn’t explain the tight feeling in your chest whenever the boy smiled up at you. “Are you ready?” He nodded eagerly and you took a step, following Clint up the stairs. Cooper giggled the entire time, clinging on with little hands.

“I hope you guys are okay with sharing a room. We’ve got Coop and Lila in their own rooms right now. Lila keeps you up at night, doesn’t she buddy?”

He nodded against your knee. “Lila cries a lot.”

“This is great,” Natalia said. “Thank you.” You and her still slept in separate rooms, but at this point you would have been willing to sleep out in the barn if he told you to. You hadn’t realized how crazy you’d been in that SHIELD compound. The wind whipping against your face outside had been like finally breathing deeply after having your head held underwater.

“The door on the end is the master bedroom,” Clint said, pointing left down the hall. “That’s Coop’s room, then there’s the nursery, the bathroom, and finally,” he stopped, opening a door to the right. “Here’s the guest room. I’ll let you guys get settled. Take your time. I’m going to help Laura get the table set.” He knelt down, scooping Cooper up under his arms and lifting him high in the air. The toddler shrieked as Clint settled him on his shoulders and stomped downstairs.

You set your bag down as Natalia moved around the room, running her hand over the nicely made bed. You cleared your throat, nerves and a foreign feeling clashing in your mind. “I can sleep on the floor.” 

She turned to you sharply. “You know I would never ask you to do that.”

“I know. But I am offering.” You walked over to the window, pushing the curtain open and peering outside. You couldn’t see much of anything, even with your enhanced eyesight. Even still, the countryside was a refreshing landscape after being firmly locked in the city. But the wilderness sheltered different threats. The red dot of a laser sight burned your retinas, and glowing yellow eyes stared blankly back at you. 

Natalia pulled your hand into hers, lacing your fingers together. “We’re okay here,” she mumbled into your shoulder as if reading your mind. 

“Do you really believe that?”

“I do,” she said, coming to stand in front of you. You wrapped your arms around her and rested your chin on top of her head, imagining you could shield her from all harm this way. “Listen.”

You strained your ears, searching for alarming sounds. The wind outside stirred quietly, enough to flurry the falling snow, but not so aggressive as to rap the window pane. Beyond that there was only quiet. No footsteps prowling around the back of the house. No click of a rifle’s safety being switched off. “I do not hear anything,” you said.

“You’re listening for the wrong things,” she said.

You frowned, glancing around the quiet room. Through the closed door the lazy tune of an American Christmas song made its way to your ears. You recognized the singer. Elvis Presley. The King of Rock and Roll. Laughter charged the music with a warm undercurrent. The infectious snicker that belonged to Barton mixed with the high-pitched giggle of his son to create a different kind of melody. You dropped your shoulders and let all of the air out of your lungs. Natalia pulled you closer until her spine pressed flush into your front. Her hands felt like ice, but you didn’t mind. You had always run hot. 

“Barton asked me if we were a couple on the ride up,” you said.

“Oh yeah? And what did you say?” She asked, watching the snow swirl in arcs outside. The wind rushed down, only for the next gust to excite the flakes into the navy sky again. 

“I told him it was complicated. And that we are friends.”

“And what if we made it less complicated?”

You pulled away to tug off your sweatshirt, feeling feverishly warm. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, what if we gave it a shot? We can call it what we want, we don’t have to call it anything at all. You could stay in my room some nights, or I could stay in yours. Maybe I’d let you kiss me,” she said, scrunching her nose and lifting one eyebrow. 

You laid the shirt on the bed, folding it into a tight little rectangle. The offer dangled in the vanilla scented air, taunting you. There must be a candle burning downstairs. You wanted so badly to say yes. To give yourself over to Natalia completely. Somewhere in between your heart and your throat the words got caught. A dark entity snagged what you wanted to say in its rows of jagged teeth and ripped it to shreds. “I think our friendship works,” you said. 

“Yeah, you’re right,” she sighed. “I was being selfish.”

“No, you were not. You could never be selfish. I am sorry,” you said, kneeling beside your bag and placing the sweatshirt inside. You would slit your own throat if Natalia Romonava asked you to. How cruel was it that you couldn’t tell her you cared? 

She crossed the softly lit bedroom, coming to rest by the door where you hung your head in defeat. “There’s nothing you need to be sorry for,” she said. Her voice washed over you and carried away some of the pain in your chest like the sea’s cool tide. Her fingers combed through the short hairs at the base of your neck. You leaned into her, resting your forehead on her leg. She smelled of the air after a storm and the beginnings of a fresh wound. “Come on. Let’s get downstairs before they put out a search warrant.”

You pushed yourself from the ground, an all too familiar action, and followed her into the greater expanse of the house. 

“There you are,” Clint greeted, pulling cups out of a cabinet. “Just in time.”

“Hi,” Laura smiled, crossing the kitchen and offering a hand. “I didn’t properly introduce myself before. I’m Laura.”

“Natasha,” Natalia said, shaking the woman’s hand.

“Cooper, come wash your hands!” Clint called. The boy ran in from the living room, making a beeline for the sink.

“Nice to meet you, Mrs. Barton,” you said, clasping her hand. Her palm held faded callouses. 

“Oh, please. It’s Laura. You come to my house, you call me Laura. Gosh, Mrs. Barton makes me feel old,” she said, smiling good-naturedly. “You two make me feel old. How old are you?”

“Twenty one,” Natalia answered. 

“Oh, wow,” she blinked widely. “Clint, you’ve got a run for your money. You might have to retire soon.”

“Tell me about it,” he said. “You should try sparring with Nat, hon. I’ve never been more sore in my life.” Clint scooped Cooper up and set him at the table. “Alright buddy hang tight, I’m gonna go grab your sister.”

“How are you guys doing at SHIELD? Fury not giving you too much grief I hope,” Laura said, grabbing a couple of plates and handing them over.

“You know Fury?” Natalia asked, recalculating the other woman.

“Oh, yeah. I knew Fury before he was such a hotshot. I knew him when he was still an ambitious agent gunning for the reins.” She scooped a bunch of mac and cheese into a bowl and carried it around to Cooper. “Feels like yesterday I was in the field though.”

“You were a SHIELD agent?” You asked, interest peaked. 

“Yep. Had a fancy codename too. People used to call me the Mockingbird.” The three of you settled at the table, plates filled with turkey and potatoes and sauteed green beans. “Don’t tell Clint I told you this but when he joined he chased after me for months before I’d even look in his direction. Don’t let him ever fool you, he’s always been a big dork.”

“Don’t tell Clint what now?” He asked, walking in with a baby in his arms. She couldn’t have been more than six months old. Natalia’s eyes went wide, her mouth parted open. She looked as if she were about to spring from her chair. You knew she had a soft spot for kids, but didn’t know it ran this deep. You looked from her to the baby and back again, head tilting. She’d never looked that excited to see you.

“Just sharing your most embarrassing moments,” Laura said. 

“Great.” He took a seat, cradling the baby in one hand and picking a fork up in the other. He pointed the utensil across the table at you and Natalia. “Just remember I’m still your superior,” he said. 

“The food is great, Laura,” you said in between bites. You forced yourself to slow down. You guessed you hadn’t realized how hungry you were until you sat down. SHIELD cafeteria food was certainly less than subpar. 

“Thank you. Clint, you better take notes from this one. The kid has better manners than you.”

“I’ll have you know that you chose to marry me,” he retorted.

“That I did,” she conceded, dipping her head. “And I’ve never had cause to regret it…so far.” 

“So far? Clint asked. “How could you ever say no to this face?” He jutted his bottom lip out and pouted.

Laura shook her head and grinned, almond eyes sparkling. “You are a child. I’m raising three children.” She turned away from her husband. “Anyway, I was asking you two about SHIELD. Clint told me you’ve taken the place by storm.” 

“It’s been good,” Natalia answered carefully. In the face of two senior agents, you had to choose your words carefully, even if one of them was retired from the organization. She donned a coy smile you recognized as one reserved for when she was chasing an objective and dipped her chin, peering up at the couple. “Everyone’s just been so great. We’ve been getting along perfectly, haven’t we?”

You took the signal and nodded in agreement. “I have found SHIELD to be an exceptional establishment.”

“I honestly think Fury would take that as an insult,” Clint said. “There’s no penalty for criticism. There’s a reason we’re spies and not soldiers.”

Natalia tilted her head, listening. You knew she gave the archer’s words considerable weight. “I think the director would agree that it’s considerably better than where we came from,” she said. “Which makes it near perfect in my eyes.”

Your leg bounced underneath the table, on the verge of taking off. To hear Natalia sing the song of American praise grated on your nerves. The worst thing was that she sounded genuine. She liked working under Fury. To you SHIELD was a pit stop on the way to a new life. For the woman who everyone underestimated and no one but you could decipher however, there was no escape plan, no next step. She’d convinced herself this was home.

“I’ll drink to that,” Clint said. “I’m where I am now because of SHIELD. And I wouldn’t trade this for the world.”

Laura practically beamed. “You sweet talker. I love you.” The feeling like you didn’t belong here roiled over you like a nauseating fever. You snapped to attention when you heard your name. “How are you adjusting?” Laura asked, eyes far too sympathetic.

“Fine,” you grimaced. You couldn’t help but think back on the lengths SHIELD had gone to glean information from you and remold you to a proper agent. In the end, they had been weaker than you. You were cast iron forged in the backwoods of Russia. You did not adjust. You did not yield. 

“What does Fury have you working on?” She asked. “I know I can’t have the details anymore. I don’t think I’d want them anyhow, but...He’s getting you guys back out there all right?” 

“Yeah. They call us Strike Team Alpha. We have been working with Agents Coulson and Hill to–,” you cut yourself off. You had been working to track down the Red Room and formulate a strategy to take out Dreykov. You complied enough to be deemed cooperative, but kept vital intelligence to yourself. Even still, time trickled away like sand in an hourglass. They’d have him before long, and you weren’t certain you could stick around to see it through. “We have been busy,” you pivoted. “We work with Clint a lot. Your husband is a good man.” 

“That he is,” she agreed. “But don’t discount yourself either.”

“Do not worry,” you said. “I know exactly what kind of person I am.”

“We all think we know who we are,” Laura said. “But most of the time it’s not as simple as we think. Lives are multi-faceted and it’s impossible to understand every part of ourselves as we should.”

“She’s right, you know,” Clint added. “I never thought I’d work for the government, much less ever be a father. But here I am.” He looked down on the sleeping baby tucked in his arm, running a thumb over her chubby cheek.

Under the table Natalia tugged on your pinky finger, intertwining her finger with yours. She squeezed softly and the action sent a current all the way to your heart. She had a smile on her face when you looked over, cat-green eyes glimmering with hope. “See?” She asked. “We can be whoever we want to be now.”

You nodded, even if it was just to reassure the woman beside you. Without order, without someone’s heels to follow you didn’t know who you were. And the prospect of discovering you weren’t worthy of all you’d been given...well that scared you more than the thought of a bullet carving a neat hole through your brain.

Clint cleared his throat and stood, walking to the counter and grabbing more food. You stared at your now empty plate, stealing a glance back at the countertop with the dishes of food. You stamped down on the flare of desire in your stomach, sitting silently and stacking your hands in your lap. “You can have more,” Laura said gently.

You shook your head quickly. “I am alright.” You were to never take more than what was allotted. 

“I’m serious, we’ll never eat all of this food. Please, take more,” she insisted.

You nodded, slowly getting up and slinking away from the wooden dining table. Natalia picked up the conversation. “So, you don’t work for SHIELD anymore then?”

“No,” Laura said. “I opted out of field work when I got pregnant with Cooper and when we decided to have Lila I took myself out of the game completely. Even being a deskbound spy has a way of taking over your life.” She picked up a napkin and wiped Cooper’s cheesy face off. “At that point I knew I had greater priorities than to SHIELD. Being a parent wouldn’t be everyone’s first choice but it was the right decision for me. We moved out here from the city a little over a year ago.”

“What do you do now?” Natalia asked.

“I’m a counselor for military personnel and veterans,” she said as you sat down again. Your foot caught on one of the legs and the table jumped a few inches.

“Sorry,” you cringed, gingerly pushing it back into place.

Cooper’s eyes went wide and he clapped his hands together with little coordination. “Again.”

“The table is pretty dense,” Laura explained. “We had trouble moving it in here and now Cooper’s made a game out of trying to push it around. Clint won’t touch it though, he’s worried he’ll hurt his back.”

“Ah,” you said, staring down at your lap. You didn’t like people knowing how strong you were. Nothing good had ever come from it. The serum was a fear tactic, a killer’s tool. The doctor’s at SHIELD had been practically drooling with questions when they found out, needles armed and ready behind their backs. “Must be lighter than you remember.”

“I’m done,” Cooper announced, slamming his spoon down. 

“Cooper Barton!” Laura chastised. “What do we say when we’re done?”

The toddler grumbled, pushing his empty bowl away. “May I be excused?”

“Yes you may,” his mother answered.

He jumped from his chair and ran around the table back to the living room. Clint ruffled his thick brown hair as he sped past. “Attaboy,” he saluted.

Laura carried the dishes over to the sink, running the water and filling the basin. You stood abruptly, snapping to attention. “I can take care of it.” You’d been sitting around for too long and letting people work for you. You needed to do something with your hands. She waved you off, not sparing a glance. “Please,” you said, ants crawling beneath your skin.

 She turned to you and something on your face must have given you away. “Okay. You’re not going to hear any argument from me.” 

You gathered up the rest of the plates from the table and scraped the food scraps into the trash. Chore rotations had been part of the routine growing up and the repetitive nature of scrubbing plate after plate calmed you some.

“Let me help,” Clint offered, handing the baby off to Laura and joining you in the kitchen. 

“Why don’t we go out to the den?” Laura offered to Natalia. “Let the boys clean up in here.” She whispered into the redhead’s ear as they left the room. You couldn’t make out the words.

You handed a clean plate to Clint for him to dry. “Thank you,” you said. The kitchen was cozy, all wooden floors and off-white countertops. The fridge stood across from the sink, decorated in crayon drawings and various magnets in the shape of dinosaurs.

“You’re welcome. Laura gets on me all the time for forgetting to clean up anyway. Figured I could earn some points while I’m home.”

“I meant for bringing us here,” you clarified. “It has been, nice.” Nice was a safe word. “You have a nice home. You were right. I think I was–hm, what is the term? Something crazy. Like when you are stuck inside for too long.”

“Stir crazy?”

“Ah yes. I was being stir crazy,” you said. “I am glad to be far away from the compound, from the job, all of it.”

“You were going stir crazy, not being stir crazy,” he said.

“Ah. I do not struggle with languages too much, but the figures of speech are always difficult to follow.”

“I’m glad you’re comfortable here. It’s nice to be able to share this with someone,” he admitted. “Fury is literally the only other person who knows about this part of my life. It’s kind of exhausting walking around pretending it doesn’t exist.”

LIttle footsteps came pounding around the corner and into the kitchen. Cooper crashed into Clint’s leg, tugging on his shirt to get his attention. “Mama said I have to help. Lila is sleeping,” he panted.

“Why don’t you dry this off for me, bud?” Clint handed him a rag and a plastic cup.

You watched the boy as he cleaned the cup, tongue poking out of the side of his mouth. “I will protect your secret, Clint. I know Nata-” You caught yourself before finishing the second half of her name. “Natasha will too.” The sound still felt awkward on your tongue.

“Thank you,” he said, laying a warm hand on your shoulder. The muscles in your back tensed, pinching your shoulder blades together. You inhaled and counted to five. You didn’t pull away. “I’ve made a lot of dumb decisions in my life, and I mean a lot. Taking a chance on the two of you though…that I don’t think I’ll ever regret.”

Part of you preened at the praise, no matter who’s lips it fell from. The other part reared at the fact you responded to someone other than your designated handlers. “You are welcome,” you said.

“Done!” Cooper announced, handing the dry cup back to his father. “Can I go play now?”

“Yeah, sure bud. We’ll be right out.”

You put the last plate away and drained the sink before joining Natalia and Laura in the living room. You froze when you rounded the corner and saw Natalia. She held Lila in her arms, the most tender smile on her face as she watched over the baby. Laura knelt by the fireplace, stoking the logs before shutting the grate. The mantle held little framed photographs of the Barton family and red and green stockings hung over the fire. A Christmas tree stood in the corner, yellow lights shining like halos. A star topped the tree, inches away from scraping the ceiling. Natalia sat on the couch cradling the baby as she played with one of her fingers.

Cooper slid onto the bench at an upright piano, mashing away at the keys. “Not right now, Coop,” Clint said. “You ought to be winding down for bed. We all have to be asleep for when Santa comes, remember?” You blinked at the instrument, starstruck. Longing filled your chest like air in a balloon. 

“Fine,” he whined, but listened and scooted from the bench.

Natalia swiveled her head, careful not to shift and disturb Lila. “Does one of you play?”

“I used to when I was little,” Laura said. “The piano belonged to my grandparents originally. I don’t think I could play much of anything anymore.”

“I can play.” Clint piped up.

“Twinkle Twinkle Little Star does not count, babe.”

“You know who can play?” Natalia spoke up. You imagined the expression on her face, one eyebrow raised and mouth poised in a smirk. 

“Who?” Cooper asked, rounding the couch and sitting on the coffee table. 

“I’ll give you a hint,” she said. “They’re in the room with us right now.”

“Is it me?” He pointed to himself, little eyebrows furrowed as deep as he could make them go.

“Nope,” Natalia answered, voice sing-song sweet.

“Is it you?” He twisted his head to the side and pointed at Natalia. She shook her head and Cooper looked around the room, eyes catching on his mother and father before landing on you. “Your friend,” he said. 

“Yep,” she said. You could hear the smile in her voice. 

“I knew it. I knew it,” he insisted. 

You tore your gaze away from the piano as attention fell onto you. “Oh.” You waved them off. “I would not say I could play. I posed as a pianist in a hotel lobby for a mission once a long time ago. Memorized some music that is all. I am not classically trained.” You crossed your arms to ward off the unease that accompanied so many eyes on you.

“Do you still know it?” Laura asked. 

“Yeah, I do.” Your peculiar memory would never allow you to forget. And you’d never tell a soul, but sitting there at a piano all night long had made you feel alive in a way nothing had before. But that couldn’t be. Musicians were jesters, and you were no fool. 

“We’d love to hear it,” Laura said, picking Cooper up and settling down with him on her lap. “If you’re comfortable. I hate the thought of the piano just turning into decor.”

“Okay,” you said. You were never one to shy away from a task. “I am afraid I do not know any Christmas songs.” 

“That’s all right. I’m sure whatever you know will be beautiful,” Laura encouraged.

Clint stood in the corner, eyes upturned to the ceiling. He perked up, springing into action. “I’ll be right back,” he said, jogging upstairs.

You took a seat on the polished wooden bench, stroking the keys and marveling at the instrument. You warmed up, playing a couple scales and conjuring the music in your mind’s eye. The patterns were as fresh as the day you had played them. The notes from the aged piano were by no means comparable to that of the expensive grand you’d used before, but somehow the music sounded sweeter here. As you struck the opening bars of Beethoven’s Moonlight Sonata you craned your neck to find Natalia’s gaze. She smiled at you and you couldn’t help but mirror the expression. Your heart picked up its beating and your head buzzed with a strange feeling. You felt as if you might explode with it. 

You took to the music like you took to fighting, or dancing. You didn’t struggle with movement like other people did. Ever since you could remember you could watch and replicate. Eventually you learned to mimic a fighter’s strategy so that you could predict their next moves. Flay their neck into a gushing fountain before they could touch you. 

Your foot pumped the pedal in time with your left hand and when you closed your eyes you could see the notes weaving into the dark. You liked how the music elicited harmony instead of chaos. Music didn’t scrape the skin from your knuckles or leave you lying on the floor with the world spinning around you. You changed the song, easing into Chopin’s Nocturne in E Flat. 

Clint came marching down the stairs, CD player in one hand and a disk in the other. He stayed quiet for a moment, busying himself with finding an outlet to plug the player into. Finding a natural way to end the song prematurely, you slowed your hands and lightened the force with which you struck the keys. Clint stood near the other end of the couch, doing his best to look patient. 

“Barton?” You asked.

“I told you earlier that I was going to teach you the joy of Christmas music,” he said. “Well, here you go. Now you can play along and really appreciate the music.” He knelt down and pressed the play button. 

An easy tune filled the living room, bathing all in attendance in a sense of peace. Time seemed to slow, and for a moment, you forgot about the world outside of the farmhouse. All that mattered was the family reaching out in embrace, two parents and a little boy. Their smiles shone brighter than the blazing fire in the hearth. You watched the woman settled on the couch, absorbed by the baby in her arms. She looked up at you as you traced the curve of her jaw with your eyes. Natalia’s pupils were wide when she met your gaze, and she caught her bottom lip between her teeth. You looked away first to stare at the piano instead, focusing on the music instead of the way your cheeks warmed in a way that had nothing to do with the temperature.

You caught onto the song as it began to repeat, taking a shallow breath before following along. Just like with anything else music obeyed a pattern. Once you unlocked the way the parts fit together, the rest of the song revealed itself to you. All you had to do was continue the line of code. The next track played, prompting Cooper to sing along. Imperfection had never sounded so flawless. 

The CD turned out song after song and you let yourself get lost in the game. You didn’t recognize any of the pieces, but Christmas music had a distinctive charm to it. Some might call it magical. You sat back for the first thirty seconds of each song, picking out the tempo and key. The notes charged your hands with energy which you poured out into the latter half of the song. Each one was unique, a victorious smile forming on your face when you pulled together the entire arrangement in your head.

When the tracklist ended you took a breath, feeling lighter than you had in a long time. Laura took Lila from Natalia, holding her tight against her shoulder. Her hand, a mother’s hand, rested on the sleeping baby’s back. “I’m going to put her down,” she said, just loud enough to be heard.

“Hey bud.” Clint gently shook Cooper awake from where he’d fallen asleep on the couch against his leg. “It’s time to brush our teeth and go to bed.”

The boy only turned further into Clint’s body, refusing to be stirred. 

Clint stood and picked him up. “I’ll be right back,” he said.

Only after his footsteps had receded upstairs did either one of you move. Natalia pushed herself from the couch and stretched. Her arms extended toward the ceiling with a dancer’s grace. She took a seat next to you on the bench and laid her head on your shoulder. “That was amazing,” she said. “You’re amazing, you know that?”

“That is all you,” you said. “I did not know you were so good with babies.”

“Me neither,” she admitted. “When Laura asked me to hold her I was so nervous at first. I thought I might drop her or pinch her or that I’d make her cry.” She lifted her head, her gaze soft as a lamb’s. You wanted to preserve it so that no one may ever taint it, including from yourself. “But she was okay.”

“That is because you are a good person. They say babies have a sixth sense for that sort of thing. Like dogs.”

“But, I’ve hurt so many people,” she said, voice fragile like a twig in a storm. “I’m afraid…I'm afraid I’ll never be able to redeem myself.”

“No. Do not say that, Natalia. You are the best person I know. The fact you care so much means you are already there.” You huffed a quick exhale. “I think you are the only person who cannot see how big your heart is.”

“They say the holidays are for spending time with the people you love the most,” she whispered, tracing the lines on your palm with her finger.

You stayed quiet.

“I’m glad that I’m here with you,” she said.

Another window, another chance to dive off the deep end. I think I’m in love with you, you thought. The laws of society had been drilled into your head by the Madames and reinforced by what little exposure of the world you’d received. Natalia stood in defiance to all of them. She was a sapling in a field of ash, and refused to be uprooted. She turned to grace like you turned to anger. She was infecting you, and you couldn’t push her away.

Footsteps sounded down the stairs and you shut your previously parted mouth. The words scattered into the recesses of your throat. “Hey guys,” Clint said. “The kids are down and Laura and I still have a lot of Santa’s work to do. You’re more than welcome to stay down here and watch TV or whatever. We’ll be around. Just holler if you need anything.”

“Okay,” Natalia said. “Thank you.” He turned to go. “And Clint. Merry Christmas.” She smiled.

“Merry Christmas,” he said, giving a sharp nod. 

You yawned. Between the food and the warmth and the music, tiredness had snuck up on you. “Let’s go upstairs,” Natalia said.

“Okay.” You left the piano behind and made your way upstairs. You brushed your teeth and splashed water on your face in the hall bathroom. The shower curtain was adorned with colorful flaming monster trucks and a little blue step stool gave height before the sink. Cooper must have primary use of this one. 

Natalia sat on the edge of the mattress in the bedroom, untangling her braid with deft fingers. You stole a pillow and dropped it on the floor on the other side near the door. “What are you doing?” She asked.

“I am going to sleep.” You didn’t meet her eyes.

“Why are you being weird? We’ve slept in the same bed before,” she said.

“That was different,” you insisted.

“How so?” She asked, infuriatingly patient.

You crossed your arms over your chest and rolled your shoulders back, shadows of old handlers and teachers flickering behind your eyes. “Because…because there were lines before. Ones we did not cross.” Emotional ones. “It was survival. You were a warm body.”

A smudge of hurt clouded over Natalia’s bright eyes. She blinked and it disappeared. “You don’t mean that.”

You paced the length of the room, wishing you could run farther. You meant it and you also didn’t. “Of course not. I am sorry,” you breathed. 

“Then come here. All we’re doing is sleeping. I’m not letting you stay on the floor like a dog.” She combed through her hair, waves of red cascading down past her shoulders. 

Except it wasn’t just sleeping. If you indulged in this vice once you’d never want to quit it. You’d paw desperately at her door every night. You shook your head and backed away like a spooked horse. “I have slept in worse places.”

“Is it me?” She asked, shoulders slumping with the words. “Do you not trust me?”

“No. No, it is not you.”

“Then what’s the problem?”

You shook your head as if to fling the question away. The problem was that you weren’t cut out for relationships of any kind. Didn’t she know how dangerous you were? Shouldn’t she know that you bit? “There is no problem.”

“I know you well enough to know when you’re not telling me something.” You started to get the feeling this wasn’t really about where you slept anymore.

“Can we talk about this in the morning?” You tried, rubbing furiously at the back of your head.

“No. I hate feeling like you’re not comfortable around me,” she said. “Is there something wrong with me?”

“No. I trust you with my life. You know that.” Your voice cracked at the end. It was never her fault, and you hated yourself for not being able to be what she needed. To reassure and support her. To be normal.

“Then please, tell me what’s going on.”

“I–”

“What are you so afraid of?” She asked the question at barely more than a whisper, but the words lit a spark in you like a gunshot. 

“Leave it Natalia,” you commanded in Russian, spinning on your heel. You fixed her with a cold stare, no longer seeing her as you should be. Perched on the bed sat the Black Widow, and she had broken rank.

“No,” she scolded, rising to meet the challenge. “You don’t get to talk to me like that. We are not in the Red Room. Do you understand?” Anyone else and you would have seized them and smacked them clean across the cheek. Anyone else and they’d have a dozen fresh bruises to remind them of their place. But this was Natalia. And you’d never hurt Natalia. You clenched your jaw and drew your lips back, fighting the urge to pound the wall in. 

“I hate you.” You felt as if you’d just barely outran an onslaught of attackers, and they were still watching. 

“No you don’t,” she said, face still as marble and expressive as a wall of stone.

“Why are you here? Why will you not leave? You are the reason I am like this,” you said, voice cracking as a growing child's did. If it wasn’t for her you’d be perfect, you knew it. Instead she tempted you down a path of distraction, convinced you to embrace weakness.

“I’m here because I will always stand beside you. Always,” she said as if it was all too simple.

“But you left. You were going to die and leave me alone.” Defecting to SHIELD had not been her original plan. Letting them kill her was. Lucky it had been Clint Barton behind the trigger that night. “And now I am stuck here because of you and I hate it.”

“You feel stuck?” For a second the wall slipped and a flash of hurt escaped Natalia’s gaze.

“Yes,” you said. “I do. You ruined my life.” Red hot anger ignited itself within you. And it was all aimed at the woman before you.

“I didn’t make you do anything. I never have,” she said, shaking her head. “You’re here because you know deep down that the Red Room is an awful place. A place that takes little children and beats them into weapons.”

“It made us strong.”

“It broke us.”

You grimaced and kicked aimlessly at the ground. “I still cannot stand it here.” The wrath began to dissipate. Shame swelled to take its place.

“We are safer now than we ever have been.”

“I cannot trust you. You are a Widow. You–You are lying to me. You always have been.” Paranoia twisted smiles into smirks, kind words into carefully crafted scalpels. She’d learn all of your weaknesses and leave you gutted on top of her rotting pile of victims.

“I am not a Widow. Not anymore. Do you understand?”

You grunted an acknowledgement.

“Markov.” She called your surname. “Yes or no.”

“Yes,” you ground out. “I understand.” Regret pooled in your belly like bile. She had asked what you were so afraid of and you’d gone and shown her. The closer Natalia became the less control you felt you had. Emotions twisted together in a whirlwind inside your head, mutating into a throbbing mass of anger. Natalia handled her emotions, always choosing the correct words and wearing the face she wanted people to see. Dreykov had taught you that pretty words were for the Widows and the women. Unchecked, the rage festered until your hands shook with it. “I do not want to hurt you,” you said, switching back to English with an accent hanging heavy over the words.

“I know,” she sighed. “But you do, you know. When you lash out at me it hurts.” 

A dozen excuses ran through your head. None of them even came close to making it up. You were just a bad person. “This is why you have to let me sleep on the floor.” You felt as though you’d finally been allowed to regain control of your body after some raging force had overtaken you. It left you dizzy with the shame of your words.

Natalia didn’t say anything. Her green gaze bore straight through you. Vulnerability raked at your spine as if she held your bleeding heart in her fist.

“Please,” you added. You did not beg.

“You can sleep on the floor,” she relented. The cool release of relief soothed your aching mind. “But you have to promise me something.”

“Okay.”

“Promise me that when we get back you’ll work on talking through whatever’s going on in your mind. If not with me that’s fine. But you have to talk to someone.”

The offer was steep. The urge to shut it all in was more than an instinct. Being guarded was the key to your survival. “Fine.” If tearing yourself apart meant Natalia could find peace, you would rip the flesh away yourself. “I can do that.”

She blinked as if she hadn’t expected you to agree. “Here.” She held out a blanket that had been folded at the end of the bed. 

“Thank you.” You shut off the light and laid on the floor. For a moment before your eyes adjusted you couldn’t see a thing besides pitch black. Your heart thundered in your chest as shapes began to fall back into focus. The rectangle dresser, the thick bed frame, the moonlight filtering in through the blinds on the window. Covered in the rather large blanket and supported by the carpeted floor you fell asleep. 

You dreamt most nights. Vivid atrocities doused in blood and the screams of pigs to the slaughter. The tip of a sword, plunged through the hearts of the guilty and innocent alike. A metal fist, knocking you sideways and ramming you in the face until your eyes swelled shut. Never stopping until its master called it off. Faceless bodies behind surgical masks, watching as you writhed under a spotlight like a bug under a magnifying glass. A burn beneath your skin so violent your jaw locked with the pain and you felt as if you couldn’t even draw the tiniest of breaths. 

None of them held a candle to the nightmare that cursed you tonight. It had visited since you were small, and it came often. Not just the feeling, but the memory of being suspended in limbo.

Your limbs froze, even your neck refused to lift your head as you stared at a single spot on the popcorn ceiling. The walls, the fear-soaked smell of your own sweat, the buzz of a lamp to your right all closed in on you. You couldn’t cry, you couldn’t speak, it took everything you had just to breathe.

Time stretched on and all you could do was lay there and stare at the ceiling. You tried to focus on the drone of the lamp instead of the heavy panting a foot away from you. But you never could completely. Your chest constricted with every breath but never reached the point of constriction. Your stomach crackled with repulsion, but bile never rose into your throat. You forever hung teetering on the edge, violation wrapped around your frail body. 

I’m trapped. I’m trapped. I’m trapped. I’m–

Your eyes flew open and you sat up, knocking skulls with someone else. A strangled noise leapt from your mouth into the silent air. No buzzing lamp. No heavy breathing besides your own. Your limbs had become tangled in a blanket and you thrashed to free yourself. 

Your head snapped up at the sound of your name. The word lassoed your mind and hauled you to the present. Concerned green eyes peered at you in the dark. You knew those eyes. For a second you imagined they belonged to a child no older than thirteen. She wasn’t supposed to be in your room. She wasn’t supposed to see you like this. “What are you doing in here?” You thrust your hand out to keep her away. “Get out.”

“Hey,” Natalia said, voice as gentle as the evening breeze. Her kindness would get her killed. She spoke your name again and the illusion dissolved some more. “You’re safe. You were dreaming. We’re at Clint Barton’s house in Iowa.” 

You got to your feet on shaky legs, looking through the woman in front of you. The room around you was not the one in the lingering dream and not the one you grew up sleeping in. 

A cool hand found your cheek and tilted your gaze down. “Come back,” Natalia said.

The shadows fled, no match for her. Not truly gone, but subdued for now. “I am sorry I woke you,” you said. 

“Don’t apologize.” She drew a breath. “I was awake anyways.”

“I guess sleep is not especially kind to either of us.”

“No. I guess not.” 

She pulled away, stepping into the splash of moonlight on the wall. You thought she looked like an angel, or maybe a ghost. Either way she looked ethereal, as if she might turn to smoke if you reached out to touch her.

“I thought you said you’d grown out of them,” she whispered, facing the light, and away from where you hunkered out of its reach.

Your jaw twitched. “I lied.”

She nodded to herself. Disappointed but not surprised. You thought she might berate you for it, present a list of the consequences until they were seared into your brain. Instead she just extended a hand and said, “Come here.”

You fell into her and let her pull you onto the edge of the bed. You sat there, feet planted on the floor. “I hope I did not wake anyone else,” you said.

“You didn’t,” she said, settling down beside you. “You were so quiet. I almost didn’t notice something was wrong.”

“What happened?”

“I just…had the feeling something was wrong. That I needed to check on you.” She turned your forearm up and traced her thumb over the pulse point on your wrist. “Your forehead was all sweaty and you were breathing super fast. You seemed so scared.”

“I am okay,” you said.

“It’s okay to not be sometimes. I think I’m starting to learn that.”

“I really am.” You wanted to say more. You chewed on your lip, staring at the door as if it could tell you what to do. Natalia, so small yet stronger than you in a million ways. She deserved to know how much she meant to you. “I am always more than okay when you are with me. You make me feel safe.”

“Do you mean it?” Her eyes met yours, pupils blown amidst the fern green iris. You wondered if it was because of you or the dark. 

“Yes,” you said. “You are the best thing that has ever happened to me. I think…I would go through all of it again just to keep you.”

“I don’t know if I’m worth that much.” You wished she could see herself through your eyes so that she understood. 

“Natalia Romanova, you are worth the entire world.” Hesitantly you leaned over and kissed her temple, lips just grazing the soft skin. You pulled away, scanning her face for any sign of reproach. “Was that okay?”

“It was more than okay,” she said. She leaned her weight against you, shoulders pressing into each other. 

You sat like that for a while, listening to the sound of her gentle breathing and basking in the peaceful moment. Maybe if you could remember how you felt now you could summon the strength to serve SHIELD. You allowed your mind to wander to places you normally didn’t entertain. Someday you and Natalia would have your own place like this. A bubble no one else could touch where you could sit just like this every night. You would never have it though, only the filmy mirage of pretense.

Natalia moved to the other side of the bed, laying down on her side. “Come lay down with me,” she said.

You didn’t want to return to the floor, but you weren’t sure you could stay on the bed either. 

“Please.” Behind you the best dipped and a pair of arms slid around you. One of her hands came to rest right above your heart. She tucked her chin into the space between your neck and shoulder and involuntarily, you dropped your head against hers. “It is Christmas after all.”

Natalia tugged you down and you let her, lowering yourself until your back was flush against the mattress and your head lay in her lap. You refused to move your legs, leaving them draped over the side. “I am so sorry for the things I said earlier. I did not mean it.” Shame stabbed at your lungs and behind your eyes. Your jaw ached with it, and your tongue was sour with traces of your own bitterness. 

“It’s okay. I understand,” she said. You didn’t deserve her tenderness.

“You should not have to, Natalia. It is not fair for you to deal with.”

“Remember when we promised each other we’d never leave the other one alone?” 

You huffed a dry laugh. “We could not have been more than fourteen years old.”

“So more than old enough to know what we were saying,” she countered.

“It will happen again,” you said, tone darkening. 

“And I’ll be there when it does.”

“I cannot control it. Sometimes things happen and I feel everyone is out to get me.” You flicked your gaze away from her face. “Then the shouting and the hateful words and the rage comes. I do things I cannot take back.”

“That’s why you need people who know that that isn’t really you. Who know you’re kind and loyal to the bone. Who will help you heal.” 

“I am not sick,” you insisted. 

“I know. But we need to understand whatever this is,” she said. “Before it gets you into trouble with the wrong people.”

You took a deep breath, ribs shuddering like the bars of a rusted cage. “I am scared,” you whispered. 

Natalia ran a calloused hand across your cheek. “I know,” she said. “Just know you’re not alone. We’ll figure this out together.”

You nodded your head, afraid that speaking might reveal the lump in your throat.

“Come on, let’s get some rest,” she said, tugging on the collar of your shirt.

 “You are unbelievable,” you mumbled.

“What happened to me being the best person ever?”

“You can be both.”

She peered down at you, eyes alight with mischief. “I haven’t heard a ‘no’.”

Exhaustion had broken down your resolve, and you’d have a better chance of sleeping through the rest of the night in the bed. “Okay.” Your agreement had nothing to do with the way Natalia blinked slowly at you, nor the way she had taken to sifting her fingers through your hair.

“Finally,” she said, lips quirking up in a victorious smile. “You’re almost as stubborn as me. Not quite though.”

“Yeah, whatever,” you said, pushing yourself fully onto the bed. “Do not make me change my mind.”

You laid down and Natalia settled her head on your chest. “You’re so warm,” she said.

“Is that why you wanted me up here? Cause you were cold?” 

“No,” she said as she pressed her cheek further into your collarbone. “Go to sleep.”

“Goodnight Natalia.”

“Goodnight.”

You woke in the morning not to the terror of memory infiltrating your mind but to sunlight illuminating the space before your eyelids. You blinked rapidly, clearing away the morning bleariness. You couldn't recall the last time you had started your day after sunup. 

“Hey there, sleepyhead,” Natalia said, still buried into your side. Under the sheet her legs tangled up in yours. 

You yawned, stretching your arms above your head. “Have you been awake long?”

“No,” she said. “Just a few minutes maybe. I think we should get up though. I imagine Cooper will be awake soon. It would be cruel to keep him waiting. I remember how exciting Christmas morning was.” She said, sounding far away. “It wasn’t real, but…there is something really magical about this time of year.”

You rubbed gentle circles on her upper back in between her shoulder blades where you knew she held tension. “It is real now, no? For the Bartons and for us, Christmas means something?” 

“Yeah,” she breathed, crinkles around her eyes when she looked at you. “This is real.” You had a feeling she wasn’t referring to the holidays anymore.

“Before we go downstairs I have something for you,” you said. You palmed the thin silver necklace that had been stored in your bag. “Turn around and close your eyes.”

“Should I be nervous?” She asked as she faced away from you.

“No, no.” You clasped the chain around her neck. “Okay you can look now.”

Natalia examined the charm, cupping it in her hand. “I um—I didn’t get you anything.”

“And you do not need to,” you said. “You are all I could ever want.”

“Where’d you get it?”

“Clint took me out. I was saving it for the right time. Now seemed perfect.” You looked at the little silver sword strung hilt to blade tip along the necklace. Your signature weapon. “Do you like it?”

“It’s beautiful. Thank you,” she said, smiling up at you in a way that made your head go empty and quiet. You felt as if everything might be okay when she smiled at you.

“It is, uh…It is to remind you that I am always on your side. That I am always with you even when it may seem like I am not.” Your heart pounded with fear she may reject the gift. She would cast it aside, and you with it.

“It’s perfect,” she said instead. “You’re perfect.”

“Merry Christmas Natalia.”

“Merry Christmas.”

A/N: The drive from D.C. to Iowa is definitely NOT doable in the time they make it in the story.

[yunarim]

╰┈➤ summary : you and your reliable partner grim are the most famous interdimensional travelers under the Official Isekai Association. you're used to traveling into psychological thrillers and horrors. however, this time something goes wrong, and you suddenly turn into the protagonist of… an otome game?!

— characters : jade leech, leona kingscholar | kalim al-asim, azul ashengrotto | lilia vanrouge, idia shroud

⌞tags⌝ : gn reader, fluff at times, occasional angst, typical manhwas tropes, mention of a typical isekai manhwa death by truck hit... yeah, you go from the first route to the last (from jade to idia), hence the parts are connected — w.c. : 4.6k+

⌞notes⌝ : i've been reading too much isekai mangas/manhwas lately and here we go lmao. also forgive me for not writing for so long, i've been experiencing a huge burnout ;; i originally intended to write for dorm leaders but then gave it a second thought and came up with another plan hhhhhh i hope i'll manage to finish other chapters on time but pls be patient with me, i'm preoccupied with too much work lately 😭😭

You sigh and stretch out your hand, looking at it while lying on the bed, and wonder, how in the dimension did you manage to land in an otome game realm. You heard your colleagues complaining how annoying those can be, not to mention many of you forgot about romantic relationships long long ago—when you probably got hit by a truck in your original world?—and to think you somehow appeared in a world which didn’t belong to your department. 

Your specialization was horror and psychological thriller stories, and even if you possess no magic (which is strange, given after transmigrating for so many times, you don’t remember getting magic abilities at least for once, but whatever), you’ve got an excellent, strategic mastermind. And if something dangerous happens, you have your partner and friend, Grim.

“It’s been a while since we’ve isekaed into a high school setting,” you say to yourself, system windows appearing before your eyes. 

“Main goal: TO GET A HAPPY ENDING WITH *name*!!”

Ah really…

You set a reminder and throw a quick glance at already fallen asleep Grim before going to sleep yourself. If you can’t escape the world until you complete it, then so be it.

“Event: TO BECOME A SCHOOL COUNCIL PRESIDENT: success!!”

One mention of a school student council you’ve encountered in many worlds (though possessing not really sweet memories of dealing with many psychological intrigues and schemes), and the local headmaster named Crowley happened to be fairly overjoyed and excited to proclaim you as a council’s president, much to everyone’s indifference chagrin. 

You were quite surprised to realize that the school that large didn’t invent such a common structure. On the second note, it was easy for you to operate and deal with information provided through leading the council. Much to your chagrin this time, you needed to pick a route to escape this world.

It was an otome game. You couldn’t care less at first, assuming you and Grim landed in another horror, however a fantasy atmosphere lingering everywhere made you two slightly confused. And the conclusion was made right after you saw heart-shaped indicators above six people’s heads. 

“Do you remember what our colleagues told us about otome games?..” You asked Grim, sitting in the auditorium that Crowley assigned as the Council’s room. 

“Nah,” Grim yawned. “Not my field.”

“As if it’s mine,” you frowned. “What, not even MC’s words? She ended up transmigrating into a closed apartament and had only 11 days to get an ending…”

“Come to think of it, we have 11 days till the festival.”

You raised your head, turning to the voice’s source, and slightly parted your lips. 

“Jade,” you said, standing up. “Good afternoon.”

Jade Leech, to be more precise. You’ve scanned through his profile when you first interacted with him two weeks ago when you ended up transmigrating here in Twisted Wonderland. As expected of a fantasy world, he wasn’t a normal human being, but belonged to merfolk. You don’t remember having much experience with them, and maybe picking him as your first route wasn’t exactly your best choice.

“Good luck on surviving the event,” Grim said, jumping off the chair he was sitting on, and headed to the exit.

“Ah,” Jade’s feigned surprise made you blink at him questionably. “How unfortunate, you’re supposed to help us with the preparations, Grim-san.”

You saw a system window popping up above your head as a reminder of not forgetting your main goal, and sighed.

“Not this kind of event he meant…” You mumbled, knowing exactly well that Jade heard you. 

“How about we discuss the budget, Yuu-san?” Leech took a seat beside you, to which you nodded. 

Appointed as a council’s treasurer, Jade actually managed his sources with an outstanding performance. Since you had no experience in entering otome realms, it was quite hard for you to predict what was going to happen next. Your fellow transmigrators you barely saw in the interdimensional space used to exchange their thoughts on their journeys before traveling to the next world, and somehow you, who witnessed a ton of horror stories, possessed psyche of a solidity, while otome novels and games travelers happened to be constantly overworked and heavily damaged in terms of their minds.

You never asked why. They’ve mentioned the necessity to go through an endless amount of routes and paths, to make people fall in love with them, and then leave them behind in their worlds. You also heard the system was erasing their memories, so they would live happily after experiencing love and joy of being loved, but the system never really cared about the travelers themselves. 

The department you were assigned to provided you with a psychotherapists’ help if needed after coming back to the office, so you would heal after experiencing terrible things and emotional drainings, but your and Grim’s emotional state has never reached the point of damaged position. 

Some of your colleagues even stated that you were emotionless and—

“Yuu-san?” you found Jade leaning closer to you, his face showing slight hints of a false worry made of politeness. “Is everything alright?”

“Yes, I am sorry. Let’s continue.”

“I’ll be honest with you,” Leech stood up and came to the bar counter of the Mostro Lounge you’ve been occupying for the council discussions regarding the upcoming festival. 

“You don’t seem like the type to be honest with people,” you let the conclusion slip of your tongue before meeting his gaze you couldn’t decipher. 

“Then would you like to consider this an observation? A remark of sorts.”

“Alright then.”

“Sometimes it’s quite peculiar how you’re so composed and calm for a magicless person who got here in a school of magic,” a majestic coffee aroma filled the room. “Not to mention we’re fairly… uncommon individuals here.”

“You seem quite normal to me,” you answer emotionlessly, closing your eyes. “But you can say my opinion of what ‘normal’ is may differ from others. Yours, too.”

“Then I would be really willing to know how exactly.”

His voice suddenly appeared really close to your ear, but you didn't even raise an eyebrow, accepting a coffee cup from his elegant hands and looked at him.

Normally you wouldn’t want to have people interfering in your business, but a heart-shaped vitreous icon with a pink liquid in it made you widen your eyes in surprise. 

There was no liquid in it before. 

Now that you think about it, yes, your colleagues said there were indicators showing your progress, and apparently you really made it further, somehow managing to get Jade interested in you more than he was. 

“You’ve seemed to be spacing out a lot lately, Yuu-san.”

“Now that the festival is almost here, I guess I’m slightly nervous.”

“You don’t seem to be the type to get nervous so easily.”

You suddenly chuckle with a light grin on your face at his reversed pun and sip a coffee he brewed.

“It’s brilliant,” you compliment his work, staring straight at his mismatched eyes and seeing something in there. “May I ask you to brew this exclusively for me when the festival comes? In order to celebrate our successful and thoughtful work.”

“It would be my greatest pleasure.”

You had no idea about how romance works, but you did know you needed to get on Jade’s route as quickly as you could and come back to the office immediately. You wanted to get the detailed information about how you ended up transmigrating into an otome game, so now, sitting in the library and reading mycology books, you hoped to find something useful.

“Aha!” You exclaimed, summoning your transmigrator’s interface and taking a screenshot of a book page containing a mushroom’s drawing. “This is it!”

A mushroom which could be served as a component of a firework supplement, making it iridescent in rainbow colors right in the sky, which also was overflowing when put in soil. You found yourself smiling at the thought of Jade’s reaction, and headed to the mountain near the school.

Unfortunately, you’ve spent all the transmigrator currency you’ve earned during the previous isekai on preparations to the festival, thus you couldn’t afford any equipment for climbing. Well, even if something happens, you still have the system to save your progress, so you could reload and try again. Thinking about the demerits you could get for being not careful and damaging your body made you cringe, though.

You've reached the mountain, and a deep dark forest loomed before your eyes, a cold and moistened fog made you shiver in displeasure. How unfortunate that such a beautiful colorful mushroom grew in such an obscure place.

You made your way further, checking the map with the system tools, and took one more step to darkness. A small iridescent light on the ground made you rash towards it, and you grabbed the mushroom you were looking for.

“Here you are!” You smiled, grabbing more of them, but…

A sudden feeling of ground slipping under your feet made you scream in horror and turn off all the system signs, alerting you about the danger you’ve encountered. 

Who knew there was a cliff?! 

You tried to grab onto the branches of the occasionally falling trees to slow down your uncontrolled flight, but they were more likely to do more harm than good. You somehow felt someone’s gaze on you, but there was no time to think it thoroughly. You were ready to collapse on the damp ground, but a sudden prehensile grip prevented your fall, and you opened your eyes in a daze.

“Are you alright?!”

You could promise a genuine—this time—worry slid over Jade’s confused face, but he quickly tried to regain his composure. You took a look at his grip and wondered if he’s going to let you go, but at your gaze he instead tightened it, holding you even closer.

“What were you thinking, going to the forest unequipped…”

“Don’t worry,” you’ve tried reassuring him, but receiving only a frown. “I would have survived.”

“Falling from this height?” He asked, his voice raising slightly. 

“”... I believe you’re not the type to worry about others,” you mumble.

“What made you think I was worried?” He chuckled, still not letting you go. “Would have been troublesome if you died on the school grounds.” 

“No,” you answered with a suspicious calmness you’d better hide. “You’re worried. Your pupils tremble.” 

“... Let this be at least in theory,” he sighed. “But what made you come here?”

“Oh,” you sigh and finally unclench your scratched fists and hand over only one mushroom you’ve managed to preserve. “Here. I wanted to give you this mushroom. It’s iridescent and can be used for— Huh?”

Jade chuckled, looking into the sky which suddenly shone pretty bright with glimmering stars, and sighed heavily, finally letting you go of his grip, but holding your shoulders nevertheless, obviously scared of you falling. 

“So you did this for me.”

“Yes, I did, but what… Ah.”

You looked up at his head where the heart icon was, seeing the liquid feeling almost to the top, and gasped. 

So he was genuinely worried.

“It seems you’ve realized something,” he said, fixing a strand of your hair and smiling rather wearily. “I’ve never thought you’re the type to risk your life for getting gifts, Yuu-san. Especially for me, given how actually twisted I am.”

You found yourself giggling softly at his remark.

“I’m the twisted type myself. I believe.”

When the festival came, you thought you wouldn't be able to see Jade due to how busy you two were.

He was busy with calculations, and also constantly disappeared in the kitchen due to the insufficient number of workers, but somehow everything went smoothly.

You were greeting the guests by showing them the area and were up all day long actually dreaming of laying down, while Grim helped with the special effects on stage spraying his blue flames along with the rest of the guys.

Finally, it was time for the fireworks show, and you, making sure everything was under control and the visitors were enjoying the show, went to the roof of the school, dreaming of relaxing on the bench alone.

Being in an otome was tiring you out more than you thought it would, and you laughed at how you presumed you would just allure the love interests and get back home. 

You grew to genuinely like Jade maybe not as a love interest, but maybe even someone closer than a character of another world. 

“Resting here all alone?” 

A familiar voice was heard, but you didn’t dare to look, continuing keeping your gaze fixed on the night sky, knowing exactly well who came.

“Ashengrotto has finally freed you from the kitchen?”

“You could say so, even though Leona-san asked for an extra meat dish I’ve created yesterday…”

“Is that so…” You smiled as Jade sat right next to you, lying on the bench. “The fireworks show is going to start soon, right?”

“Not just soon,” he chuckled. “Right now.”

There were loud bangs just after a thin thread of light pierced the night sky and burst into a bouquet of multicolored lights that shimmered in rainbow colors right under the stars, and you released a smile from your lips, surprised at your sincere joy.

“It’s beautiful.”

Jade silently watched the show with you and then bent over your face, covering the view of a clear night sky when the show was over. An unfamiliar expression on his face made you blink in surprise. 

“It is beautiful, indeed.”

“Somehow I feel you’re not talking about fireworks?..” You questioned, chuckling, and gasped the second after.

The heart icon was fully filled, a bright pink light radiating from it and covering Jade’s cheeks with a slight pink hue. Or wasn’t it an icon?..

“You know, Yuu-san,” Jade smiled. “You were right when you said I’m not the honest type, but right at this moment, let me tell you something.”

“I’m all ears.”

“Thank you for your beautiful gift,” he said. “I’ll treasure it. And also… you.”

You couldn’t bring yourself to say something, stretching your hand and touching his cheek, cold because of a night breeze and maybe just because he was always naturally like that, and dared to cover his eyes with your hand. 

“Thank you for appearing in my life. I’ll treasure you too.”

And with that his soft chuckle dissolved in a bright light and system notifications, congratulating you with getting a happy ending.

Happy ending, starting again in your room with a piercing pain in your heart.

“Ah…” You said, seeing Grim sleep peacefully next to you. “So that is why they said otome games are hard to escape.”

Shit, you thought, waking up the next morning. 

You came to the conclusion that it wasn’t really necessary for you to fall in love with the love interest (it was enough just to open up to him?), and weren’t sure if Jade really grew to like you. 

But you definitely came to a realization that it was painful to see him in the hall, talking to his brother and noticing you, nodding in a greeting way with a familiar feigned politeness, a glimpse of warmth, which appeared in your previous walkthrough, was no longer lingering underneath his eyes. 

You found yourself wanting to taste a coffee he brewed for you exclusively, but he was no longer here by your side, his profile image became gray, and a ‘COMPLETED’ line appeared in capital letters in the system interface. 

Was that it? All the feelings both of you developed turned into a finished story without any chance for rereading it? Otome games were unfair. But transmigrating still was your main job you couldn’t decline, and even in thrillers and horrors you used to enter so often there were people who you genuinely liked and treasured.

Still, you knew that once the story ended, you got back into the office and traveled to another world, then another, and another, and… There was no point in developing feelings anymore.

You chuckled to yourself when Jade passed through you, and raised your head, meeting someone else’s intense gaze.

Leona Kingscholar. The system made a melodious sound, letting you know about your next ‘target’. You quickly checked his profile, appearing right before standing in front of you Leona, and wondered, what type of a character he would be. 

Slightly older than his classmates, and he also belonged to royalty, how very interesting. You closed the system interface with a snap of fingers and greeted your next… target.

“Good morning. May I help you… Eh?”

Leona approached you, his face suddenly extremely close to yours, and sniffed your neck, then clavicles and stared at your eyes, allowing you to notice how beautifully the emeralds of his were shining.

“What a strange smell.”

“Excuse me, I took a shower in the morning.”

“Not that,” Leona sighed, a heart above his head being absolutely empty and transparent. “The smell, not of magic, but similar. Also like that fish guy.”

“Fish guy?..”

He was probably speaking about Jade, but how in the world did he manage to sniff that?! Your eyes widened in shock for a brief moment. 

“If you’re talking about Ja… Leech, then maybe it’s because hu just was there.”

“Whatever,” Leona shrugged, sniffing you once more, to which you attempted to distant yourself. “There’s also a dirt smell. And also raining, alcohol, hospital… A blood? What the hell, herbivore?”

Now this wasn’t funny at all. The last world you’ve transmigrated into was centered around a story about doctors, crimes and, well, the usual horror stuff you had to deal with, and how did Leona manage to casually sniff it on you like that?

Naturally, you wanted to get rid of any suspicions and shrug it off, but you also needed to get him on your side and find a way to reach a happy ending with him. A slight fearful thought of collecting people’s hearts like some sort of a hobby slid through your mind, making you nauseous, but you swallowed the feeling and forced a cheeky smile.

“Care to figure it out?”

Leona looked at you with an unreadable emotion and made his way to the exit, leaving you all confused.

“It’s not my business, herbivore. But do something about this smell, it’s disgusting, Savanaclaw students are really sensitive to the smell this strong.”

“As if I can just wash it away…” You mumbled to yourself, following Leona’s distancing figure with your gaze and parting your lips in a surprise way when noticing a little amount of pink liquid in the heart above his head.

So you did pique his interest, after all.

The progress with Leona’s route was incredibly slow and strange. You took the sequence the system suggested automatically, providing you with calculations regarding the difficulty on each walkthrough, and at first you blinked questionably at Leona’s one, seeing only 40%, since now you’ve been feeling all 100%. 

He wasn’t hard to find — the botanical garden was his second alma mater, and yet when his words he said to you the first day of his route lingered in your mind, ‘It’s not my business’ line repeating in your head like an annoying pop song, you almost thought that it really was not his problem at all, as if he totally didn’t care.

You almost convinced yourself, but small steps you took towards him also helped you in discovering concealed aspects of his character.

At first you visited the botanical garden just out of a habit you’ve managed to form in other isekais, and ended up finding Leona there without fail every time. At first you were silent, observing him and his unwavering composure—you thought of that as indifference—but not so long after you took the first attempt to start a casual conversation.

“Leona,” you once said, seeing him sleeping under the tree and knowing he heard you talking. “Do I still, uhm, reek?..”

“I sense the strong smell of that fish guy.” 

How in the world did Jade’s lingering scent still remain on you?

“And also that bat.”

“Bat?” You asked, wondering who he meant. 

“Lilia Vanrouge.”

You knitted your brows together at his reply. You saw Vanrouge only once, right before Leona came into the garden one day, and briefly talked to him. Lilia was also listed among your potential ‘love interests’, but a 100% difficulty level was confusing to you, and the one talk you had did really confirm that he’s going to be a tough character to deal with. To make him fall in love with?..

“I see… I wonder how it works for you beastmen, your sense of smell.”

“Like a second skin,” Leona opened one eye and glanced your way. “I don’t get how you humans live with such a short range of smell.”

“I think that’s only about you,” you suddenly said, meeting Leona’s gaze. “No one from Savanaclaw other than you mentioned what I smell like.” 

A short pause stretched between you two, but somehow you didn’t find it unpleasant, more like relaxing and thoughtful. Kingscholar chuckled, tapping on the spot beside him with his tail and attracting your attention.

“Yes?”

“Come here.”

You did as he said, wondering what was that about, and ended up being held in his arms. He sniffed you once again, but with more care and politeness than he did the first time, while you couldn’t tear away your fixated gaze on his bright focused eyes.

“Those strange scents are still on you. What kind of life did you live before getting here, herbivore…”

“And you said it’s not your business, huh,” you grinned and gasped the second after he suddenly laid on your lap. “Hey!”

“It’s still not my business though.” He answered, closing his eyes and resting comfortably. “But don’t get near other Savanaclaws. It’s really a disgusting smell.”

“Which is why you’re on my lap, am I being correct?” You chuckled. “Still, I don’t think others have the audacity to come near me. Or such a strong sense of smell like you do. You’re impressive, Leona.”

For a moment you thought he stopped breathing, but then heard a bitter laugh coming from his lips.

“One day you’ll take your words back.”

Till today you really wondered what he meant by that, seeing no particular reason to actually question his skills. Even despite his poor attendance and self-deprecating lines, he really was an amazing, outstandingly clever person you really did want to get to know more.

And today an occasion came up, when you visited the botanical garden again, now it was more out of a habit, and found Leona with the first-year students you didn’t know, challenging him in chess. 

“Good afternoon everyone,” you greeted them, hearing excited ‘hello’ from other students and receiving a light nod from Leona. “What are you doing?”

“Miserably failing to win Kingscholar-senpai in a chess match,” one of the students answered. “No one has succeeded yet…”

“Check and mate,” Leona announced, when the first year he played cried out of indignation. 

“How are you so talented in chess, Kingscholar-senpai!!..”

“Hmph,” Leona chuckled, but you somehow knew somewhere underneath his ever-so-mighty persona he was genuinely happy to receive those compliments. “Right, herbivore. Come play with me while I’m in the mood.”

You tilted your head, thinking beforehand. You couldn’t remember the last time you played, but possessing a naturally inquisitive and quick-witted mind due to your job, you nodded, taking a seat in front of him.

The match was silent, and if at first you heard first years hitched breaths, during the second hour passing of the match, even those students left, leaving a silence lingering between you two. 

“I really admire you, Leona,” you dared to break the silence, seeing Leona’s hand holding a chess piece stop for a second. 

“Flattery will take you to nowhere,” he replied, performing an en passant of your pawn, to which you pouted. “Huh, you can be cute sometimes.”

“And you can be sweet, I see,” you flirted back. “But… I’m sorry. Checkmate, Leona.”

Two knights endgame, huh. 

Leona was staring at the chess board for a fairly concerning amount of time before bursting into laughs. 

“W-what’s wrong?..”

“Remember I said you’ll take your words back?” He raised his gaze to meet yours. “Take it now. Tell me I’m not impressive anymore now that you’ve outsmarted me.”

You raised an eyebrow at him, feeling annoyed.

“What are you saying.”

“I can’t believe it, huh,” he laughed again. “You, a magicless human, out of people… Hah! What a ridiculously clever herbivore you are. It pisses me off.”

“You know what? Shut up.”

You grabbed his shirt, seeing his absolutely unimpressed expression, and clenched your fists with even more force than you thought you would, and pressed your forehead to his, chess pieces scattering around the table. 

“Even when you have no one to believe in your abilities, even you yourself doubt them…” You took a deep breath. “I myself will be that one person who will believe in you AND believe you.”

You heard a splash, realizing it was the liquid in the heart above his head filling half of it, and then a genuine laughter came from Leona’s chest.

“You’re insane, herbivore.”

You really were insane, indeed. 

To the point you couldn’t even take a quick look at Leona in the past week due to him being anywhere but near you, which annoyed you for sure. You had a whole month planned for you two to spend together in case his route appeared too difficult to reach an ending, so many things to witness, but instead…

Instead you managed to meet Jade thrice or even more, then stumble upon Lilia ‘ku-fu-fu’-ing at you cheerfully and mysteriously, and all those were driving you crazy slowly. You wanted to have a chat with Jade who portrayed no such interest you used to witness in his route, much to your dismay, but you also wanted to finally find Leona and genuinely get to know him more.

“Oh, Yuu-san.”

You were resting at the school yard, students walking here and there, chatting and playing, and you saw Jade approaching you, nodding to him.

“Good afternoon.”

“Oya, isn’t it Yuu?”

… Jade and Lilia. And no signs of Leona or whatsoever. You blinked at them, trying to conceal your honest feelings, and listened to them talking.

“It’s rare to see you all alone,” Jade noticed. 

“Indeed, you could be often seen in Leona’s company. Did you two have a quarrel?”

“We…” Despite how much you wanted to protest, you weren’t sure anymore. 

“We have not.”

A sudden warmth spreading in your chest and a heart pounding faster than it was made you turn to Leona, who appeared behind your back, and you smiled at him.

“Herbivore,” he called you, shoving his nose into the crook of your neck and making you giggle. “One week of me being busy, and you already have such a strong scent of those two. How come?”

“Look who’s talking.”

“My my, do you have a problem with us?” Lilia obviously tried to tease Leona, but the last one suddenly fell silent.

“Leona?..”

“Yeah, I have one.”

His arms enveloping you made you yelp softly, and an unfamiliar burning on your cheeks made you bite your lips and stare at Leona’s cheeky expression.

“I liked it more when you had an aroma of garden’s flowers on you more. And also…”

A kiss he pressed on your lips was bright, passionate, also confusing to everyone else, and very much awaited by you. 

“That way I don’t need to worry anymore. Care for another game of chess, herbivore?”

You smiled at him, wanting to reply instantly, but the heart icon above filled to its max, and splashing beats of bright light covered your watering eyes. 

“Yes, let’s play one more time, Leona!..”

You… 

You really were growing to hate otome games to your very heart.

© yunarim 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐝. 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭, 𝐜𝐨𝐩𝐲, 𝐦𝐨𝐝𝐢𝐟𝐲, 𝐨𝐫 𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐦 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬 𝐚𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐨𝐰𝐧.

[ruumirmir]

"Hey, hey- did you hear? Lord Regrator promoted someone as the new branch manager of our bank!"

"Don't tell me... it's him, isn't it?"

"But of course, I heard the harbinger is playing favorites now-"

.˚ *꒰ঌ There's a new Venator Dux in town ໒꒱* ˚.

Pantalone x Male!Reader | Part of the Loverboy series .���·˚

𓆩♱𓆪 Summary - When you feel the caress of a mask; an identity, Who do you become? Or, a profiling of Pantalone's loverboy. 𓆩♱𓆪 Author's note - Finished cooking Pantalone's Loverboy a little bit more with this character layout. While a good chunk of his aesthetic has been pinned down, I probably won't go further to draw any sort of outfit or character design for him. As of now, I'm keeping his finer details ambiguous enough to classify as a M!reader. @eluxcastar comrade wake up new Loverboy content just dropped.

➷ 𝐅𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐢 𝐕𝐞𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐤

Under the hierarchy of Regrator's ordinance, Fatuus above a certain level of authority don masks signifying their position. Ordinary agents working with classified business information must never run the risk of disclosing their identities after all. One such mask, dipped in a red of warning and adorned with a platinum wing on it's brow is the telltale identity of the bank's Venator Dux. Whether you stand against him in a negotiations meeting, or battle, he's no less intimidating without it.

➷ 𝐇𝐲𝐝𝐫𝐨 𝐕𝐢𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧

"Hydro represents faith, regardless of how misguided it maybe." "This vision is given to people who either have a strong dedication towards something, or have a desire to help or protect others." From wind to water; That day celestia's eye honed in on the fool falling past a shattered window, dragging down another with him. "How amusing..." they'd think, and brush past the reject to bestow heaven's blessing upon the far more pitiful one.

➷ 𝐁𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐮𝐱

Also called 'wine red' or 'black rose'. Like the lovely wines of plum occasionally imported from Liyue. Like blood to snow in the region colored head to toe in muted greys and blues.

➷ 𝐂𝐡𝐨𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐂𝐨𝐬𝐦𝐨𝐬

A flower that smells like fresh chocolate. They symbolize peace and tranquility. It is said that Chocolate Cosmos in particular mean “I love you more than anybody can.” Is it more obvious. He offers to pin it on the Harbinger's coat with a knowing grin. A frost-sensitive flower; It requires partial sun or full sun, and flowers from mid to late summer. It cant flourish naturally in a frost-bitten habitat and is artificially kept in greenhouses, only glimpsing the sun every few days through tinted windows. Pantalone barely needs to lift a finger to commission a set of cosmos flowers turned to jewelry for his Loverboy to wear.

➷ 𝐁𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐒𝐰𝐚𝐧

A Black Swan signifies an insight about yourself that changes your position from one of victim to victor. Black Swan is a graceful reminder to move from any position where you feel powerless and at the mercy of external forces; it is time to reclaim your personal power. A coin always has two sides however; The black swan theory states that, "It is an unpredictable event that is beyond what is normally expected of a situation and has potentially severe consequences."

➷ 𝐐𝐮𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐒𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝

Equal parts strategic leader and hands-on agent, the Venator's blade is no less mightier than his pen. Come hell and high water, his feathered quill can enlarge thrice over to chase down it's targets with a mind of it's own, like a missile dart. You wouldn't fare better in close quarters either. The feather reinforced with hydro can sharpen it to the degree of splitting icebergs and necks alike. Why else do you think his ink occasionally flows in hues of red?

➷ 𝐈𝐜𝐲 𝐖𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐫, 𝐂𝐢𝐠𝐚𝐫𝐬, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐃𝐚𝐫𝐤 𝐂𝐡𝐨𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞

The steely frost seeping into his coat, A heady spice from the smoke warming the air, and the slow bittersweet aroma that doesn't hit you until after he's gone; an aftertaste.

➷ 𝐆𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐎𝐥𝐝 𝐅𝐚𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐝 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐁𝐨𝐲

"I can serenade and gently play on your heart strings Be your Valentino, just for you" "I'd like for you and I to go romancing Say the word, your wish is my command" "Ooh, love (there he goes again) Ooh, lover boy (he's my good old-fashioned lover boy, ooh) What're you doing tonight?"

➷ 𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐅𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐭𝐲

"Faithfulness to something to which one is bound by pledge or duty.""In the shimmering expanse of ice and snow, I pledge my unwavering devotion and undying loyalty to the illustrious Tsaritza, sovereign of this frozen realm. As the frost bites deep and the chill of winter grips our souls, I stand firm in my resolve to serve her reign with pride and honor." "With every breath, I swear to defend her name, her realm, and her legacy, even if it means laying down my life upon the icy plains, for in her sovereignty lies the very essence of our existence. Today, I embrace the cold embrace of eternity, knowing that I have lived and died under the banner of our revered Tsaritza, with unwavering loyalty burning bright within my heart..." And he didn't mean a single word of it. He wondered when that would be the death of him.

[ssa-dado]

Aaron Hotchner - Symposium Series: updates!

I've just finished writing the whole Act 1 of the series (woohoo!).

It has 10 chapters, with the last one being the most heartbreaking - yes, even worse than "Synthesis" - because, as you've leart to know, I’m quite the sadist when it comes to these things.

Recently, while browsing through the Criminal Minds timelines (which, as we all know, make absolutely no sense), I was reminded that the first part of "Omnivore" (the George Foyet case) is supposed to take place around 1998 - aka the exact time this fic is set.

This case as you know is incredibly significant for Hotch - not only for his future but also because it marks his first case as lead profiler (woohoo!).

This made me curious to try document it, and if I did, it would definitely deserve an extra chapter of its own.

PLEASE COMMENT IF YOU WOULD LIKE TO READ THAT. 🤌🤌🤌 I need feedbacks

If there's enough interest, I’d consider making this Foyet prequel chapter 10, and the chapter that was originally going to end Act 1 could serve as some sort of interlude - a bridge between the two acts (I always imagine the structure like Hamilton). Would you be okay with that?

And 🤌🤌 what would you want to see unfold in this Foyet prequel? 🤌🤌 Don’t hold back, I’m all ears!

Love you all

Extras: I went to my grandpa's house yesterday and found these relics - my 6-year-old high school philosophy notes about Plato. Here are 2 of the 30 pages of notes, feel free to mock me for my hideous handwriting. Funny how some stupid things like these end up inspiring me to write stupid characters for stupid stories.

[diamondzart]

You know, I have an infinite amount of respect towards this guy.

He is obsessed with this crab from “Moana” so much that he not only has him as a profile picture and mentions him in almost every single video no matter what a video is about in general. He always finds a way to remind us how much he likes Tamatoa. The character that only has like 5 minutes of screen time and practically zero character development. This is just that connection between a person and a fictional unit that is so strong that it leaves me speechless.

And more than that, he is not ashamed of constantly talking about Tamatoa. He doesn’t care if people think it’s weird, he just doesn’t care that some may consider him cringe. He embraces this hyperfixation with all of his soul and enjoys it eternally. He made a 1,5-hour long video essay about a fucking Moana crab, going so deep into the analysis of this character that you might think the creators of the movie didn’t even go half that deep.

When I talk about my hyperfix a lot, I can’t help the feeling of shame. I feel like I’m annoying people around me with the thing I am truly passionate about. It’s just that I can’t contain all this passion inside, I feel the need to release it, and when I do, I start feeling kinda empty because all of thet just flew out into open space and didn’t come in any sort of a feedback. As if people I was talking to just wait for me to finish this outburst and move on. They don’t really listen to me, and that what brings that feeling of dreadful emptiness. Maybe that is really like that.

But this guy? Just says “fuck it”. He doesn’t care. He wants to flood the heads of the viewers with his Tamatoa obsession, and he goes for it. This is the level of self-confidence I crave for. I want to shake both of his hands and say how unbelievably cool his obsession with Tamatoa is. And that all that “I won’t talk about my hyperfix because it makes people around me uncomfortable” may be not really that bad…

One day I might make such a video about doctor Nefario.

Yes that was basically the point of this post, everything else was just a build up for that. I’m done.

[d1ana-m0nd]

╭─► ❝The Servant: Umbrella Academy's Servant❞

Five Hargreeves × Female! Reader || Written by Diana (d1ana-m0nd)

➢ Description : It's a well known fact that Sir. Reginald Hargreeves adopted 7 children to save the world from it's impending doom. Though, the number of children will change from 7 to 8 once a close friend of his, Rita Rossweisse was on her death bed and requested him to take in her child, who fortunately was born on October 1st 1989.

➢ Word Count : 4,553

➢ Links : Masterlist && Character Profile

Chapter 4: Man on the Moon

Ever since the other numbers chose to leave the academy, Number One and Number Zero were the only numbers behind left. Luther mostly spent his day lazing around, uncertain of what to do next as he awaited for Mr. Monocle's missions. Y/N kept herself busy by doing her assigned chores and helping Pogo and Grace around the house, and visited Vanya from time to time under Mr. Hargreeves' orders.

Today was the same routine for Number One. The only difference was that Luther thought it would be a great idea to ride a bicycle around the house, whilst drinking a container of milk. The servant noticed this through the CCTV and giggled but, you cut off your amusement short because you had orders to follow through.

You turned on the PA system and called over the larger male's attention. "Attention, Master Luther. Mission alert. I repeat, mission alert. Mr. Hargreeves' request for your presence in his study room."

The dirty blond male stopped his shenanigans and hastily placed the bicycle against the wall, as he hurried to his room to dress up into his superhero suit. Once he finished dressing up, you escorted him to his father's office.

Heading to his father's room you couldn't help but, sneak glances towards his direction. Was he comfortable with you? Is he fine with working alone in missions? Would he mind if you assisted him?

"Do you have something on your mind Y/N?" Luther quipped, most likely catching onto the smaller girl's glances.

You let out an airy chuckle, "I'm sorry, It's just… I'm worried for you."

The larger man raised a brow, "Why would you be? I've handled a lot of missions by myself, this one is nothing new to me."

"I suppose you are right," You sighed and added, "Though that doesn't mean you can handle everything yourself, sometimes you need other people to help you."

Number One nodded, "Yeah, I see your point but," he ruffled your hair, "You have nothing to worry about, I'm Dad's Number One for a reason."

You forced yourself to keep your lips into a smile; You didn't want to tell him that being number one means nothing when it comes to life threatening situations…

"Also, Master Luther, please refrain from messing with my hair." You reminded him as you tried to salvage the neatness of your hair, which made the larger male giggle.

When you've both arrived at Mr. Hargreeves' office, you were quick to stand by the patriarch's side prepping his tea as he spoke to Luther.

"There's a biochemical substance, unknown, but dangerous, especially in the wrong hands. As my Number One, I need you to deal with the threat." The older male commanded as he jotted down things on his priceless notebook.

"I'm ready. But, uh..."

"Yes?"

"You don't need to call me by my number anymore." Number One requested.

Mr. Hargreeves' and you were intrigued by Luther's words. Why would he point out something so miniscule and have no importance to the mission?

"Why not?" Mr. Monocle inquired, his sharp gaze on Luther.

The larger male stiffened under his father's gaze, it made him feel small but pointed out. "Because I'm the only one left."

"Ah." The older man didn't seem surprised by his son's statement, though he shrugged it off as he went back to writing where he left off.

"Ouch. I'm totally not here." You sarcastically thought brushing off the pain of being ignored, was Luther even aware you were still in the same room? Or did he forget you were still there?

When Luther left the room, you raised a question to the head of the Hargreeves' family, "Mr. Monocle may I raise a question?"

The older male merely nodded and gestured for you to shoot your question.

"Why am I not sent to missions with Luther? Wouldn't it be better for him to have assistance rather than doing them alone?" You mused, subtly pointing out the dangers of doing the mission by himself.

"Ah. Simple," Mr. Hargreeves' paused as he drank his tea then spoke, "You will serve as a hindrance. Number One knows how to deal with missions by himself without my orders. You, on the other hand, would need guidance on every step of the way. Which is something I don't need in missions."

You couldn't help but bite your lower lip. Your throat was clogged with colorful words that were wanting to be spewed at the patriarch's direction, though you knew your situation better now. You were merely a servant in everyone's eyes, not a person who wants to help…

Unexpectedly, the mission Luther was sent to almost got him killed. The last thing he'd witness as a human is gunfire going off, metal clanging, air hissing, loud clattering and banging as he battled with his opponents. The whole fight ended with the larger male groaning in pain, as his body was covered with bullet wounds, knife slashes and burns from the fight. Making haste, you and Grace hurriedly pushed the wheeled stretcher to the infirmary.

"Hurry! Let's get him inside. Get that gear off him." Reginald ordered you and Grace to assist him.

The injured Luther was wheezing in pain as you took out the scissors and cut away the gear that was in the way.

"Paddles. Quickly!" Mr. Hargreeves' commanded, Grace charged the paddles then placed it on Luther's chest. The paddles whirred and buzzed but Number One was unresponsive.

"Again."

You turn up the paddles and increase the voltage. Whilst Grace charged it up and placed it on Luther's chest awaiting for his pulse to become more stable but got nothing.

The monocle cursed as he saw no improvement, "Damn it! Bring me the serum. Pogo."

Pogo walked up to Mr. Hargreeves' side and gave him the serum that was mixed with your blood and Pogo's, a modified serum that could save his life. The older man hurriedly inserted the serum into Luther's veins and pushed the liquid into him. For a moment, everyone went silent since Luther wasn't wheezing in pain anymore, unsure of what to do next, but they left the room as soon as Reginald told them to.

ㅤㅤㅤ❲ T H E ☕ S E R V A N T ❳

It was early in the morning, most likely around 5 am. Pogo woke you up to share his discovery with you. Groggily, you followed his lead, when your eyes met a deactivated Grace, your eyes widened, immediately awakened from your tired state.

“Mr. Pogo, was this part of the plan or did the masked people do this to her?” You murmured, your hands gripping onto the fabric of your sleepwear.

The advanced chimpanzee wore a sullen look glancing at Grace, “Mr. Hargreeves expected this would happen but, he didn’t plan to do this to Grace.”

“So it’s the masked people then… By any chance, did Mr. Monocle anticipate that other people would get involved?” You asked your eyes narrowed at the ground because you didn't know how to take your anger out.

“Yes, yes he did.” Pogo replied which made you sigh, this made you think one thing.

“Mr. Pogo… does Master Hargreeves not trust me?”

The formal chimpanzee looked away, guilt weighing his heart. “I’m afraid not.”

You could not help but feel like crap. As the servant of the Umbrella Academy and as Number Zero, you've done everything in your power to please Mr. Hargreeves and serve his family. However, in his eyes, what you were doing was not good enough, you were not trustworthy enough. As the servant of the Hargreeves family, were you not perfect enough… Did he see the cracks? The flaws you have tried so hard to hide? You could not help but blame yourself for being so incompetent and being unable to keep up to their expectations.

The older chimpanzee noticed that the servant seemed bothered by his admission, based on how she was staring into space whilst she fiddled with the fabric of her pajamas. He decided it would be best to redirect their discourse.

“Y/N you should use this opportunity to run away now. You plan to monitor Five right? Leaving now will give you a headstart.”

You shook your head no, ”I cannot… Master Luther’s already suspicious of me, I would not want to create any more discord between us.”

“Understandable," Pogo nodded, " Please inform the others that are left behind, regarding the state we found Grace in.”

The servant bowed to Pogo and did as you were told. You informed the ones who were left behind in the academy: you told Diego before he departed early in the morning, you looked for Vanya but couldn't find her, the same could be said to Klaus, you told Allison and planned to tell Luther but the Rumor stopped you claiming she would tell him herself.

You were planning to start doing your chores along with Grace's tasks but you suddenly recalled Klaus' absence. His absence worried you a bit, because his 'disappearance' occured after the masked people came to terrorize the house looking for Five.

“By any chance Miss Allison, have you seen Klaus? I can’t seem to find him.” you questioned the older woman, hoping her answer would ease your worries.

The woman in curls shook her head but wore a small smile, “Don’t worry about it Y/N, he’s probably out there doing his own thing. You have nothing to worry about, he’s a grown man and he can take care of himself.”

You forced yourself to smile once again; you understood that she meant well but it felt wrong to brush off Klaus' absence at a time like this. Though you told yourself that maybe you are just overthinking things, might as well redirect that energy to the chores that needed your attention.

ㅤㅤㅤ❲ T H E ☕ S E R V A N T ❳

It was a cloudy day, Lance, the prosthetist, spent his morning walking his dog. Once he finished taking his dog out for a walk, he carried the dog and headed to his car. Unaware of the danger he'd face the moment he stepped foot into his car. He unlocked the back door and carefully placed his dog on the backseat then went to the driver's seat to start the car.

Out of nowhere, someone blinked to the passenger seat. Before he could react, a knife was pressed against his neck by the brunette boy that had been "harassing" him, rather, threatened and scared the crap out of him for days.

"Oh, Jesus!"

"One chance. That's all you've got. One chance to tell me exactly what's going on in that lab." Five placed the blade against the prosthetist's neck, harder.

"I... I manufacture prosthetic devices for fake patients. I bill the insurance companies and then sell them for cash on the black market." Lance rambled, sweating bullets as he feared for his life.

The boy brought up, "Including eyeballs?"

"Yeah, they're my biggest seller. I mean, they sell like hotcakes. I... I've got a list, a waiting list, probably 20 buyers."

"So, the serial number I told you..."

"Uh, could've already been bought. Yes, off... off the books."

The brunette boy glared at Lance and sighed, "I needed that list, Lance. Names and numbers, and I need it now!"

"I don't have it!" The prosthetist exclaimed but, Five pressed the blade further into his neck. "I mean, not on me. The only copy's in my safe at the lab."

The boy withdrew the blade and sat on the passenger seat comfortably, like he owned the car. "Well, you start the car, then. 'Cause we're going on a field trip."

Lance let out a sigh of relief, "Okay."

"Now." Five threw a cold glare at the doctor's direction.

Despite being half Lance's size, Five's glare was enough to urge him to start the car, "Okay."

ㅤㅤㅤ❲ T H E ☕ S E R V A N T ❳

Once Luther woke up and was caught up to speed with the situation, he made a beeline to Five's room with Pogo and you in tow. The larger male rummaged through Five's things and room to look for something of use. At the moment, you and Pogo were trying to reason with him.

"Like I said, Master Luther, Number Five hasn't lived in this room since he was a boy." Pogo said watching over the comically larger male crouching and looking for something that could help him.

Luther nodded, "Yeah, I know, but we need to warn him. He doesn't even know we were attacked. He doesn't know they're looking for him, he doesn't know…"

Unexpectedly, a new pair of footsteps caught everyone's attention, everyone's eyes were redirected to the man in leather who just entered Five's room. It seemed like he had the same plan as Luther.

"What are you doing here?" Diego narrowed his eyes to Number One.

"Uh..." Spaceboy sighed then shifted his attention to his brother, "Do you know about Mom?"

"Y/N informed me before I left." The Kraken said and added, "It looks like you got what you wanted, one way or another, right?"

The whole room was silent with the latino's remark. The dirty blonde merely sighed in response to his brother's remark. Their relationship has always been like this after all, one upping the other over the smallest of things.

"Wanna tell me what you're doing here?" Luther questioned the other male.

"Looking for Five." The knife wielding vigilante briefly replied.

"Let me guess, you're gonna save the day." The larger male snided, as he rolled his eyes knowing his brother's antics.

Diego narrowed his eyes at Number One, "It's what I do. Asshоlе."

"Really?" Spaceboy stood up and looked his brother in the eye. "Last I checked, you mopped floors."

"And what do you do? Sit on the moon for four years, waiting for orders?"

Although that insult wasn't directed at you, it stung. Though you wouldn't voice that; what you said and felt didn't matter at the moment.

"Keep on being a loyal soldier after everything our father did to you."

"Master Luther and Master Diego, arguing will not be of any help in trying to find Master Five." You tried to meditate the situation but your words fell on deaf ears as the men kept arguing.

"What? You mean save my life?" The larger male defended his father.

"No, I mean... turn you into a monster."

Luther let out an exasperated sigh in response to his statement. He tried so hard to hide it from the others but they now know the truth. It was embarrassing to say the least, even though he knew he couldn't hide it forever. He couldn't help but wish they didn't see this side of him.

"Can't hide it anymore, champ." Diego mockingly pointed out.

"He had a difficult decision to make, and he made it." The dirty blonde defended their father again.

"Grow up, Luther. We're not 13 anymore."

"Making difficult decisions to save others, is what leaders do, by the way." Spaceboy desperately added, as he tried his best to paint their father in a good light.

The latino scoffed, "He sent you on that mission all alone. Almost got you killed."

"Yeah, well at least he was there. Where were you? You and everyone else in this family? You walked out." Luther hissed as he glared at Number Two.

"Everyone, please calm down-" You tried to pacify the situation but got interrupted instead.

"And thank Christ that I did, or I would have ended up just like you." The Kraken looked at him in disgust as a eureka moment occurred in his head. "Let me ask you a question. When you watch one of these nature shows…"

"Diego, please." The advanced chimpanzee begged knowing where he was going with his question.

"Does it turn you on?" The knife wielder wore a smug expression that angered Luther. It tempted Spaceboy to physically wipe off the expression on Diego's face.

"So what? Is he just an animal to you, too now, Diego, huh? Don't-"

"Enough! This house was attacked. We barely got out with our lives. And Grace... she wasn't so lucky. Your brother is missing, and this is how you rise to the occasion? Take your nonsense elsewhere. Now." Pogo's voice boomed which caught everyone off guard.

"Sorry, Pogo." Luther apologized.

"Yeah, sorry, Pogo." Diego muttered.

"Wow. It's almost like I wasn't here trying to calm them down as well." The girl silently remarked, hating the fact that no one in this household took her seriously. Was it because she looked like a little girl?

ㅤㅤㅤ❲ T H E ☕ S E R V A N T ❳

By some miracle, Luther and Diego decided to team up with you to go look for Five. They added you to their search party, since you were the one who Five kept by his side ever since he came back, and you probably had an inkling of where he was heading to. Number One was hesitant to let you join but Number Two managed to 'persuade' him. The Spaceboy, the Kraken, and the Servant headed to where they last saw the van was parked.

"This is it. He's still here. This is Five's van. Go. Go." Luther urged the others to hurry.

They - Diego and you - did as you were told and hurried. You opened the back door whilst Diego and Luther fought over the passenger seat, until Diego gave up as he rolled his eyes and reluctantly opened the sliding door at the back. The three of you looked all over the van for any signs of where Five was.

Diego whistled loudly, "I know where to find Five." He took out Vanya's autobiography, the first page littered with equations and a library stamp. The library was hours away from their current location.

"I should stay behind just in case Master Five plans to come back here." You said, assuming the possibility he would come back to the van.

The dirty blonde seemed hesitant to let you stay behind without anyone keeping an eye on you but Diego butted in before his brother could say anything nonsensical - his words, not yours.

“Yeah, we need someone to check on the van just in case he comes back, just message me if he comes.” Number Two ordered which you bowed to.

They left you behind to head to the libraries that were nearby, with Luther occasionally peeking over his shoulder making sure you'd stay in the van. You sat on the passenger seat and waited for Five to show up.

As time passes, you grow bored, your attention drifting from one thing to another. Suddenly, you saw two well dressed people entering the prosthetic building. They wore similar suits to the masked people but, you couldn't verify if they were the same people since they didn't wear a mask. Out of caution, you called the police over the nearest phone booth and reported them about suspicious individuals entering the building.

Just in cue, Five arrived at the prosthetic building. As he and Lance were heading to the entrance of the building, the brunette smelled something familiar - fire. Alert coursed through the boy's veins, he hurriedly ran to the entrance of the building. The fire from within the building roared and the fire alarm rang for help, which increased the adrenaline and his pace. He was about to enter the entrance and try to salvage the only lead he had, only to be pulled back by his collar, the glass shattered and exploded which grazed Five.

The flabbergasted brunette sat on the pavement watching as his only hope to save the world was burning right in front of him. He felt helpless watching it all burn away, it was the only thing he could do, as he thought of one thing, we are all doomed.

"Master Five, are you alright?" You asked as you removed your hands from his collar and crouched to his level, a worried look etched onto your facial features.

"What are you-" Five was taken aback by your presence then narrowed his brows at you. "How long have you been here?"

"Long enough to see the masked people come in…" You muttered looking away, you had a gut feeling he would lash out on you again.

"Why didn't you stop them!?"

"I didn't know I was supposed to stop them, I assumed you were already inside, that's why they came in. Plus, you told me to stay out of your way last time, so I just called the police again-" You tried to explain only to be interrupted by a glare and Five scoffing at you, "You're useless!"

"You haven't changed one bit!" The brunette hissed, venom seething through his words; It made you flinch. You tried to assist him to stand up, only for your hand to be swatted away.

"You are still a puppet waiting for someone to pull your strings. You can't even think for yourself without someone's orders! Is it that hard to think for yourself just for once?!" The boy exclaimed angrily as he stood up in his own accord, without your assistance.

"You know my goal is to stop the apocalypse but, you let this happen."

"I'm sorry, I didn't know I was supposed to -"

"You not knowing does not cut it! You just lost me the only lead I had!"

You froze in your place, as you fidgeted with your skirt's frills. Five was right… Despite following orders, you have caused nothing but trouble to him and everyone else. You have tried your best to help everyone but, why do you keep messing up everything?

"Rossweisse, If your plan all along was to sabotage me then, expect me to get rid of you. Luther already told me you might have something to do with the old man's death and I could care less about that but, you getting in my way is something I won't stand for." Five declared as you watched him walk away, again. A heavy weight on your heart.

You left the front of the burning prosthetics building, noticing the sirens were getting louder, to avoid any more attention you sat on a nearby park's bench, Five's words deeply engraved into your head. The only thing that brought you back to reality was the sound of your phone's notification going off.

You did as you were told and met up with Diego and Luther. You carried Delores, whilst the larger male carried the drunk Five in his arms. Throughout the whole walk, you were quiet because your own thoughts were clouding your head.

"Well, we can't go back to the house. It's not secure. Those psychopaths could come back at any moment." Luther pointed out.

The latino suggested, "My place is closer. No one will look for him there."

The brunette in spaceboy's arms belched, which made the dirty blonde sighed and gave Five a 'look'. "If you vomit on me..."

"You know what's funny? Aah! I'm going through puberty." The boy scoffed then continued speaking, "Huh. Twice. And I..." Five chuckled under his drunken breath, "I drank that whole bottle, didn't I? That's what you do when the world you love goes bye-bye. Poof, it's gone. What are you guys talking about?"

"Two masked intruders attacked the Academy last night. They came looking for you. So I need you to focus. What do they want?" Luther questioned, eagerly awaiting answers from the boy in his arms.

"Hazel and Cha-Cha." He drunkenly answered with a poor attempt of a smile.

"Who? You know, I hate code names." Diego remarked as he played with the knife in his hand to calm his nerves.

The boy explained. "Ah, the best of the best. Except for me, of course."

"The best of what?" Spaceboy pestered his 'younger' brother.

"You know, Delores always said she hated when I drank. She said it made me surly…"

"Well, you certainly act the opposite of it." The girl internally pointed out, as Five was more tamed than his usual self.

"Hey!" The male in black leather impatiently shouted.

The drunk Five smiled drunkenly, unaffected by Diego's impatience, "Hm? Yeah?"

"I need you to focus. What do Hazel and Cha-Cha want? We just wanna protect you." Number Two reasoned, only for his worry to be scoffed at.

"Protect me? I don't need your protection, Diego. Do you have any idea how many people I've killed? No. I'm the Four frickin' Horsemen. The apocalypse is coming." The brunette explained then vomited over Luther's shoulder then went back to sleep.

The 'Five search party' arrived at Diego's place, which is the Boiler room underneath Al's place. Luther carefully placed the sleeping Five on Diego's bed. Whilst you placed Dolores on an empty chair and sat beside the top half of a mannequin.

The latino took one good look at the boy's sleeping figure, "Funny. If I didn't know he was such a prick, I'd say he looks almost adorable in his sleep."

"Well, don't worry. He'll sober up eventually. Be back to his normal, unpleasant self." Luther muttered, keeping his voice down, while you silently agreed to his statement.

"Yeah, I can't wait that long. I need to find out what his connection is with these lunatics before someone else dies." Number Two said as he paced back and forth.

"All that stuff he was saying before… What do you think he meant by that? Y/N, do you know what he meant by it?"

You were about to answer Luther's question but footsteps that were approaching Diego's room caught everyone's attention. The vigilante cautiously approached the door and readied his blade as he cracked the door open ready to throw it at the 'intruder'.

"You throw another one of those goddamn knives at me, I'm pressin' charges!" Al exclaimed angrily, most likely exasperated by how it was a common occurrence.

Diego let out a sigh of relief and fully opened the door, "What do you want, Al?"

"I ain't your secretary." The gym owner snarked with a grouch, "Some lady called for you, said she needs your help."

"What lady?" Number Two placed his blade back into place, curious about the lady Al was referring to.

"I dunno. Some, uh, detective. I think she said her name was, uh, Blotch or somethin'." The old man tried to recall as he scratched the back of his nape.

"Patch? She needs my help…"

Al nodded confirming the name was what he heard then added, "She needs you to meet her at that motel, a dump on Calhoun."

"When?"

"About half an hour ago. Uh, said she found your brother."

"Well, that doesn't make sense…" Diego looks at his 'missing' brother who was currently snoozing on his bed.

"Klaus…" You muttered and then pointed out, "He hasn't been home since the shooting, the masked people probably took him as hostage!"

"Go. I'll wait here," Number One said, well more like gave his brother permission to leave. Without another word, Diego slammed the door closed as he ran.

"...With them." Luther muttered as he glanced at you and Five. The awkward atmosphere reigning the boiler room.

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[bonkers-4-hatter]

@sacredwarrior88 asked: To celebrate my birthday today, may I please request headcanons for Hotch, Derek, and Spencer having a female S/O who owns a bar that’s famous for selling special drinks based off certain characters like this?

Of course!!!! I know I already told you, but Happy Birthday! I hope you had a great one!!! I hope you enjoy the headcannons hun!! <3 <3 <3 You're amazing! :)

--

Headcannons with !Female S/O that make drinks around their personalities:

Hotch (The Black Manhattan):

You were closing up the bar for the night, you decided to close early since Aaron said he was leaving work early.

He recently closed an intense case and you were glad he was listening to your advice of taking a break before jumping into more work.

The front door of the bar opened and Aaron walked through locking the door back up and made his way toward you.

You noticed his feet dragged a little bit making you worry.

"Hey there handsome, sit down I got the thing you need."

He smiled softly at you and sat at a barstool.

You started to pull out ingridients and glasses. You saw the perplexed look on his face.

"I know that look Aaron, we can talk about it at home, for now let me make you a drink, something new I thought of. You'll like it."

You can see his eyes analyzing the ingridients in front of him. "Coming up with a profile for the drink I'm making?"

He gave a short laugh. "Something like that Y/N."

I grabbed a glass and filled it with ice, adding Rye, Amaro, Aromatic Bitter, Orange Bitters and stirred. Aaron had a relaxed look on his face as he watched me work.

Straining the liquid in a double old fashioned glass, I garnished it with an orange peel on top and slid it out to him on the bar top.

"One Black Manhattan on the house"

Aaron thanked me and took a drink.

"It's an elegant drink that has a bittersweet taste, but the aftermath leaves your mouth sweet and wanting more...kinda like you Aaron."

He laughed finishing the drink. "It was a great drink Y/N, can I give you a tip?"

"Sure?" I wasn't sure where he was going until he leaned over the bar top and kissed me.

Spencer (Lemon Lime & Bitters):

It was late, about 3:00 AM and you were cleaning up from a busy Saturday night. You let your two employees go as your boyfriend Spencer said he was coming to help you close up.

A soft knock on the front entrance made you look up.

Spencer was there with a smile on his face waving. I went and let him in giving him a hug as I closed and locked the door.

"Thank you for helping Spence! You're the best!"

"Of course Y/N, I'm sure you're exhausted after tonight. I wanted to make sure you got home safe and I didn't want you alone here."

You smiled and grabbed his hand, leading him to the bar.

"Take a seat, I'll whip up a drink for you, and yes, it'll be 99% non-alcoholic, I promise."

Spencer smiled happy you remembered he was taking new medication and couldn't really drink.

"This drink reminds me of you, but since you love your puzzles, I'll let you try to figure it out as I make it."

He smiled as I started to gather my ingridients. I saw his eyes glancing at the labels and I could practically see the gears turning in his cute little head.

I fill a glass to the top with ice, chopped a lime in half and squeezed the juice of half of it into the glass. Then, I filled the glass with lemonade then topped it off with five drops of Angostura Bitters before stirring and adding a slice of lemon and lime.

Sliding the drink over to Spencer, I gave him a warm smile. "Here we go, one Lemon Lime and Bitters on the house for one cute special agent."

I saw his cheeks flush. "Thank you Y/N." I watched as he took a drink as he let our a sigh.

"It's really refreshing and kind of sweet with the lemonade."

"It reminds me of you Spence. Someone who's refreshing, sweet and pretty to look at."

I laughed as his face turned beet red.

Derek (Cuban Old Fashioned):

It was winding down at your bar as a familiar face walked in. It was none other than Derek himself with a swagger in his step as usual.

"Hey babygirl!" His voice was loud and proud as the few stragglers looked up at him as I waved back a goofy smile on my face.

I ran around the bar and hugged him, as he hugged me back. "Alright, you guys gotta go, my girl needs to close up."

The few stragglers who were intimidated by him followed his instructions as they slugged off thorugh the front door which I closed and locked up.

Turning to Derek, I put my hand up to my forehead and 'swooned'. "Oh, my hero." He laughed at my dramatic display before cleaning up the tables the stragglers were at and flipped the chairs upside down so the cleaning crew could sweep.

I was finishing some things behind the bar as he slipped into one of the barstools, his eyes following me as I cleaned.

"Ya know, it's rude to stare at a bartender when shes not making you a drink." He laughed and looked me up and down. "Then how about makin' me a drink babygirl?"

I roll my eyes but get some ingridients out. "One mystery cocktail coming up...wanna take a guess at what I'm making mr. profiler?"

I take a cocktail shaker out and add bourbon, simple syrup, fresh lime juice and Angostura bitters. Filling it with ice, I pop the top on and shake it all vigorously.

I did a few tricks with the cocktail shaker, flipping it, shaking it behind my back, all the pretty things to get you extra tips.

Grabbing a chilled coupe glass, I strain the mixture into the glass and top it with some Prosecco and garnished it with fresh mint leaves. Sliding the drink over to Derek, I blew him a kiss.

"Here you handsome, one Cuban Old Fashioned. Wanna take a sip and see why I think this drink is you?" He grinned and took a sip as he let the flavor linger like I taught him to do. He had a puzzled look on his face. "Okay, I give, tell me what this is me Y/N."

"Well, it has a complex flavor mixture that makes you taste something different each time, but underneath it all, it has a sweetness that's addicting and once you have a taste, you're always coming back for more."

Derek downed the rest of the drink and bit his lip looking at you from across the bartop. "Better hurry and close up babygirl, becuase I'm about to show you something else that comes back for more...and more...and more."

You've never closed up the bar faster in your life after those words were said.

[fangirlingfromdownunder]

Comfort on the Road

Summary - Part 42 in the Comfort series

Pairing - Dean Winchester x Reader, Reader x Sam (platonic), Reader x Bobby (father-figure), Andre (OG Character) x Reader (best friends)

Series Masterlist | Masterlist

A/N: In case I haven’t been saying it enough lately, I just wanted to let you guys know how much I appreciate you all: all your likes, comments, reblogs and even if you’re a silent supporter I appreciate it all the same. You guys constantly remind me why I love writing so much. So, thank you so much! I hope you enjoy this week’s chapter. 

Once he pulls into the designated hotel car park, Dean gathers up all his purchases, slinging the bulging clothing bags and the bag of hearts over his arms while carefully balancing the cardboard tray of coffee and pastries in his right hand as pushes the door shut before making his way to the elevator. In front of your door, he attempts to pull his key card out of his pocket without dropping everything before resigning himself to knocking. 

You rush over at the sound of the knocking and peek through the glass hole before swinging the door open for your husband. Seeing his full hands and the bags hanging off his arms you quickly step aside to let him put everything down on the table. 

“I was gonna ask where you snuck off to but all this answers my question.” Once his arms are empty you wrap yours around him from behind and kiss his shoulder over his flannel. “I know you’re not comfortable with this set-up. Thank you for trying for me. This means so much to me.”

Dean turns around in your arms and sits his hands on your hips as he kisses your lips softly. “I know you’re still struggling from the pregnancy. If this is what you need, we’ll make it work.”

You feel the hot tears welling up just from the mention of your loss but you try to push them down as you rest your head against his chest. He pulls you close and rubs your back and places a soft kiss on the top of your head.

Once you gain back a little composure you look up at his face and say, “Let’s eat and then go see Garth and Bess. We can figure it out from there.”

He nods, kisses you again and then lets his hands slip off your hips. As he looks over your head he notices Destiny sitting on the bed watching you. As you sit down and start investigating what Dean picked up for breakfast he grabs the bags of clothes and sits them on the bed. 

“I got you some clothes that should hopefully fit. I obviously don’t know what you like so I just got a bunch of options.”

“Thank you,” she says quietly as she looks curiously at the bags. 

“I also got you some more of those hearts from last night.”

She nods and starts to pull some items out of the bags before scurrying off to the bathroom to get changed. As she disappears behind the door Dean comes back over to sit with you at the table and eat the now colder pastry and coffee. When you think he’s not looking you blow him a kiss – but of course he saw it – and then finish devouring your delicious breakfast. 

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

An hour later you’re all showered, dressed, packed up, and on the road again towards Wisconsin. You teach Destiny how to play some games on your phone and then give it to her to play while you use Dean’s to text Garth and let him know you’re on your way to see him and Bess. After you send the text you watch the road for a while before looking over and watching Dean’s concentrated profile while listening to the soft rock music filtering through the radio. 

After a while, you decide to ask one of the questions that’s been on your mind for a while. “Why Miami? Why Florida?”

Dean shoots you a quick, confused glance before fixing his eyes back on the road, “Huh?”

“I mean, did you just drive as far east as you could or was there a reason?”

“I wasn’t really thinking until I crossed that final border. Then I spent a few hours in Tampa…in that field. It’s not the same during the day. Or without you. I made the most impulsive decision of my life there, and I couldn’t help but wonder if I made a mistake that night. If I did it for the right reasons.”

“And? Did you?”

He glances back at you and you can see the love but also the fear and sadness in his eyes. “I don’t know. I guess by that night we were already too far gone, you were already…pregnant. But if I could go back to the night in the barn…”

You just nod and stare out your window trying to contain your disappointment in his words, despite your understanding. You spin your rings around nervously as you feel your disappointment turning into frustration. Glancing back at him you quietly say, “You want to know what I’d change if I could go back to that night?” 

Hearing the subtle edge in your voice he knows better than to respond with the sarcastic, pessimistic remarks in his head. Instead, he stays silent and focuses on the road. 

“I’d make Andre pull the car over so I could go back and get your number. I’d erase all the pain, longing and bad, emotionless one-night-stands that filled the months after. That’s my regret. Not saying yes, not the ectopic pregnancy, not the wedding, not even the pain I caused Sam by choosing you instead when I finally found you guys. What I do regret is all the other men I used to try and forget you and the time I didn’t get to spend with you.” You pause to brush the tears off your cheeks and take a deep breath to continue. “So, yeah, I’d love to go back to that night. But not for the same reasons you’re thinking.”

Despite his attempted concentration on the road, you can see his eyes and cheeks are as wet as yours. Neither one of you having the right words to say, you both watch the road in silence as you rest your head against the passenger window. Eventually, you feel the lull of the steady car and overwhelming emotions start to drag you to sleep. Just before you drift off completely you feel the comforting weight of a hand on your thigh.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

Your eyes start to flutter open as you feel the car slowing down. You look at Dean confused and still half-asleep. He notices your movement as you sit up stretching and squeezes your thigh softly.

“You can go back to sleep. The kid just needs to pee,” he says as he pulls up at a Gas N Sip. 

You turn around and smile at her. “Come on then. Let’s find a bathroom.” You get out and open her door for her before leading her around the side of the building where you know the bathroom will be; you’ve been to hundreds if not thousands of these across the country and they’re all set out the same. You let her go inside first while you wait outside the door. After a few minutes, she comes out and you tell her to go find Dean while you go. 

Dean and Destiny are walking to the car as you come back around the front of the building. Dean opens the backseat door for her and then turns to you. As soon as you’re within arms reach he pulls you close and kisses you. 

When he pulls away he keeps a hand on your cheek as he softly says, “For the record, whenever I picture myself happy, it’s with you. I only regret putting you in danger.”

“How many miles did it take you to come up with that?”

“Too many.” 

“What you did this morning tells me all I need to know.” You lean up and kiss him. As you kiss, you reach into his pocket and pull out the keys quietly. “You love me. Now come on, we’ve still got hours to go.”

He pecks your lips again and then pulls away. “I felt that by the way. You can get her started, I’ll be right back.” He hands you a plastic bag full of snacks and drinks he bought in the shop and turns around to walk around the side of the building. You go around to the driver’s side, dump the snacks on the passenger seat and start the engine. After a few minutes, Dean comes wandering back, leans on the driver’s side door and raises an eyebrow at you through the glass, warning you to move over. You just shake your head and he has no choice back to go to the passenger side when you lock your door. 

Once he’s in you drive out of the parking lot towards the highway. Then he looks over at you and says, “You’d better be careful with my baby.” You glare at him and he puts his hands up in surrender and adds, “I was talking to the car.”

You shake your head as you focus back on the road, happy that the mood in the car is lighter now. You glance in the rearview mirror at the little girl and smile. “You good back there?”

She nods but then says, “Your phone went black.”

“That’s okay, it probably needs more battery. Pass it to Dean.” He turns around in his seat and reaches over to take it off her. When he turns back around you tap his thigh. “I know you didn’t sleep much last night, take a nap. I got this.”

“You sure?”

You glance over at him deadpan. “Yes, I’m sure. I promise I won’t hurt your precious car.”

“Alright. Wake me up if you need a break.”

“Of course. Actually, first…” You look in the rearview again, “Hey, Sweetie, tell Mister DJ here what you wanna listen to.”

“No way,” he says shaking his head, “Nope. She’s gonna ride with us, she’s gotta learn the number one rule. Driver…”

You sigh, “Picks the music.”

“Shotgun…”

“Shuts their cakehole.” You sigh again. “Fine.” You nod and go back to focusing on the road for a minute and then you glance back at Dean. “But you know what? The driver picks to listen to whatever Destiny wants to listen to.”

“I don’t know any music,” she says quietly. 

“Alright, that’s okay,” you say as you meet her eyes in the rearview briefly. You look back over at Dean then. “You know which one I want.”

He opens the glove compartment and pulls out a cassette with your name written on it in his writing. He ejects his Zeppelin tape, puts your mixtape in and lets the music fill the car. He takes your hand from his thigh, brings it up to his lips and kisses it before placing it back in your lap so he can lean against the window and take a nap.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

Tag list: (Leave a like or comment on this post or let me know below if you want to be added to the tag list for this series)

@bitchwitch1981, @muhahaha303, @justrealizedimmascifygurl, @mcdowell-123, @leigh70, @marvelsmarauder, @losa12308, @tapedeck-hearts, @luvjaida, @peachtxa, @ambearsstuff, @shadow-of-a-cloud, @slut-for-buck, @iprobablyshipit91, @sassy-pelican, @fallenlilangel99, @heavenlyhopeful0, @nelachu2423, @ladysparkles78, @canyouimaginethatstory

[magolandandfriends]

Hello Magolor and friends, I have been watching your tale play out for a while and its interesting to me. I also brought a gift *place four bags of popeye's chicken in front of them* Its four chicken tender family meals making it 64 pieces of chicken twenty biscuits 20 sauces and 8 sides. I didn't know what you may want so I got 4 sides of fries, 2 sides of mashed potatoes and 2 sides of mac and cheese. Oh right and before I forget I had two questions. First, Magolor are you feeling any side effects from your little heatstroke incident. Second, I saw that Zan Partizanne and Susie are a couple so I was wondering if anyone else among the four of you (sans susie given my earlier point) or other people you know are in relationships. - The Wanderer, Guardian of Omndell

⋆｡ ﾟ☁︎｡ ⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡ ⋆ ⋆｡ ﾟ☁︎｡ ⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡ ⋆ ⋆｡ ﾟ☁︎｡ ⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡ ⋆

[ They’re all happy. Very happy. Certified :D moment. ]

Magolor: No I haven’t been feeling any kind of side effects! It’s been a month since I fainted I’m doing perfectly fine! No need to worry!

⋆｡ ﾟ☁︎｡ ⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡ ⋆ ⋆｡ ﾟ☁︎｡ ⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡ ⋆ ⋆｡ ﾟ☁︎｡ ⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡ ⋆

[QUESTION 2 ANSWERED VV]

Susie: That’s oddly specific-

Taranza: Trust me if I knew why I would tell you but- also don’t tell Marx I told you this I’ll never hear the end of it

Susie: oh don’t worry I won’t. I’ll just use this information to mess with him

Wanderer belongs to: @the-omndell-chronicles !!

(…. It’s been. Almost a month. Since I answered an ask. And it’s been. Almost 3 months. Since I’ve gotten this ask. Um. So how y’all doing)

(Anyways HOLY FUCJING SHIT ITS BEEN ALMOST A MONTH SINCE I FED YOU GUYS WITH MY ASKS IM SO DAMN SORRY- like I said before- college started, i had to wait for my new iPad to arrive, I have to do actual assignments now and I’ve been B U S Y, and this ask wAS SUPER LONG- I had to restart it twice because I wasn’t happy with how it was turning out)

(BUT WOWWWWWIE THIS ONE WAS A FUN ONE. EVEN THOUGH I RESTARTED THE SCRIPT DURING THE WORKINF PROGRESSES THIS ONE WAS A FUN ONE AND I ENJOYED IT. I NEED TO PROPERLY PREPARE MYSELF FOR THESW LONG ASKS-)

(AND DAILY REMINDER ESPECIALLY WITH LIFE STARTINF TO GET MORE BUSY FOR ME. YOURE ASKS ARENT BEING IGNORED. NOT ONLY AM I LETTING A WHEEL PICK FOR ME BUT IM SUPER BUSY NOW. This time I’m going to focus on the asks from July before I go back to the wheel BUT hopefully now that this big one is finished they’ll come out quickly- I’ll try to get 1-2 out by the weekends but if not then please forgive me)

(And to those that read my tags on posts that were marx and Magolor focused- where I get extra silly. Yes this is technically a part where it starts to pick up but it’s more of a prologue if anything so do with that what you will)

(Ok anything else I wanna say- oh yes- Magolor isn’t lying he hasn’t been experiencing any side effects that were linked to the fainting incident. But his friends are keeping and extra close eye on him when the weather is hotter than usual. Man I hope something like that doesn’t happen again that would be cra-)

(OKOK ONE LAST BIT IF IMPORTANT INFO- I normally draw characters from the magoverse for silly and fun but this time I tried to draw this askers OC wanderer for fun- I tried goikg based off the text post that was on their profile but if I messed anything up then I DEEPLY apologize- I’ll try to make fixes if I don’t forget-)

[ghostflowerhotpotch]

Clinging too much to the Mask

Or Miles' is neglecting his civilian life for his hero one.

Something I love about Across the Spider-verse, is that no one is truly evil, but that doesn't justify their actions. Likewise, the heroes aren't perfect, in some cases they actively need to work to own their mistakes, and in others, they need to learn a more simple lesson.

I think this last one can apply to Miles. Because while he is doing his best, I feel the story tries to point out that despite "balancing" his double life, he may be prioritizing one over the other.

We get to see this before we properly get to see Miles, who instead of being in this meeting-

He is going around the city.

Not gonna lie, in my first viewing, I felt Rio and Jeff needed to cut Miles some slack; like sure they were being kind of harsh because they didn't know what was going on, but Miles was truly trying hard!

However, the more I rewatched the movie, and the more I keep looking at certain things, the more I realized that Miles' parents are being WAY nicer about all of this than other parents I had seen, and also, that even if you have the context he is not handling this very well.

Let's start with this scene, shall we?

So, Rio and Jeff want to talk about university opportunities and scholarships, which I feel is a bit early for a fifteen-year-old, but if he wants to get into the best Physics program in the nation, I guess it makes sense needing to start early. I am assuming Miles had at least mention wanting to do big things; which is of course what his parents want because they know what he is capable of; so I wouldn't be surprised if they arranged this meeting SPECIFICALLY because Miles set his future on this.

But regardless if it was Miles's idea or his parents, the fact on the matter is this: he should be here.

Because let's remember, he isn't skipping this meeting because the Spot or a villain with a bigger profile was causing a ruckus, we saw him slinging around the city as if he was strolling, and when he goes to get the Spot, he first does this:

I know Spider-man is known for witty remarks and Miles is definitely not an anomaly on that front, but you cannot tell me he didn't explicitly want a patty and it just so happens to have a bad guy in the place; he may have not grabbed himself hasn't the Spot not being there but I bet he would have gone to this shop ruckus or not.

Even if that wasn't the case, he is already late for the meeting; but he still took his time to patrol the city for, as far as we can tell, no real reason besides just checking around.

I get that he is Spider-man and has responsibilities with the city, but when Miles has an important meeting to be in, and he decides just swinging across the city is more important than being there; we have to admit that this is a problem.

And the longer we spend in 1610 the more that shows.

This monologue feels like it can be unrelated, at first.

Miles doing the Spider-man presentation makes sense; it has been established in this franchise as a device to present the characters, so having him update on his spidey-situation while following the trope presentation they had done before it's perfect to match the tone of the first movie.

But I am also a firm defender of "weaponize tropes to press further the message of the story" and I think having Miles do this presentation can support how much emphasis he puts on his hero life.

Last time during the first movie, he did his own spidey-presentation at the end, but he also talked about finishing his essay, and doing art with his dad. In this one, we only get mentions of things related to being Spider-man, you can argue that including his uncle on the recap may also be involved because he died just in the time he was becoming Spider-man.

(This is also to remind the audience of this plot point for the ending but shhh we are focussing on other things here.)

This is nothing new for Spidey-people, Gwen the more repressed she is the more she clings to her duty, which only makes her repress more and makes the cycle continue. Peter B was okay with the idea of staying behind even if it meant dying, and let's be real here, part of the reason he was okay with it was that dying as a spider-man is an idea he made peace with years ago, but confronting MJ about what happened was scarier.

This also happened in the first movie.

This is before they know they may die if they stay, however, you have to admit is a tad unsettling that after being told "You will need to destroy your only way to get home," everyone IMMEDIATELY says they will do it.

Forget being superheroes, no one has any doubts? Any fears of how long it would take to go back home, if at all?

Peni and Gwen worry me especially because I know why those two may just prefer to ditch their home dimensions for a good while (Gwen because she already lost her Peter, was in a flaky relationship with her dad, and probably was neglecting other people too. Peni if you had read some of her comics is not that surprising, heck I want to get her out of that dimension myself.)

I could go on, because I don't think we had seen a Spidey person in this franchise who isn't putting way too much emphasis on their hero identity; but you get the idea. This is a common problem.

And Miles is no different.

When we go to the Party for his dad (something his mom reminded him of before he bolted out to capture the Spot,) we see that the Party is in full swing. Music is in, people had already started digging in the food, and kids are playing.

Look, growing up my family had parties like this, fairly often growing up. This one is to celebrate Captain Morales obviously, but I had been at family reunions that are easily this size.

Considering the size and for who is the Party, I am surprised they didn't call him non-stop when he didn't show up to help put everything up (because I am having a hard time believing he wouldn't be expected to help to put everything,) it was already late when the first person showed up, so by this point, this is beyond lateness.

And where he is at?

JUST NOW he is picking up the cake, AS SPIDERMAN.

Miles, mijo ¿Qué estás haciendo? Para este punto de la partida yo ya estaría haciendo mi testamento.

(Trans: Miles, son, what are you doing? By this point I would be doing my will.)

Ok jokes aside, I don't know what's more unbelievable, that he is just now getting the cake, or that he is doing it in the Spidey costume.

This tells us EXACTLY what he was doing before coming up to pick this cake.

Last time we see him, he told his dad he didn't believe The Spot would come back, which means he didn't exactly think there was any danger. Nothing in the movie shows or tells us there was another big emergency he didn't need to attend to, either; and it has CLEARLY been a few hours since that moment since the lightning has changed.

Don't tell me he came in with his Spidey suit to get a better deal or something, the woman clearly doesn't care about it; and even then, at any moment he seems to find a way to change just so he can move around the city more easily.

Not to mention that while he was trying to come to the Party, this happened.

In case you need to make sure what's happening, since this moment happens in a few seconds during Jeff speech; because someone was stealing shoes (with a guard who is clearly not giving a shit,) he sent a web to stop him.

And rather than just, going on with his day, he stops to sign some autographs and pics, to the point someone else thinks the taxi is waiting for a new client, which the guy obviously accepts.

Honestly, once this moment clicked for me I feel a little dumb to not realize that this is actually a thing Miles needs to confront about himself and not just the natural back and forth that is expected with this life.

And you can see it in other things too.

Miles isn't a loner, or at least he wasn't one in Into the Spider-verse.

I remember that when I saw the movie the contrast surprised me, like many other people, I had grown up with plenty Peter Parker adaptations, where he is most of the time, a nerd that deals with bullying to some degree. Even with Miles being his own character, I was surprised that at least in his old school and neighborhood, he not only has friends, he is basically a popular kid.

Now in ATSV? That seems to have gone away.

Is such a small detail in both movies, but it still shocks me every time I think about it hard enough.

Miles had tons of friends, or at least people he definitely got along with; people who said that miss him and such. Even if we never hear a name from him; look at the people greeting him at the beginning at ITSV, go to see the movie and see how much Miles scrolls on his contact list; there is no way in hell he wasn't close to some of these people.

But all of them seem to have gone away by this movie, not only did neither of his parents think of asking about anyone in the neighborhood, Miles himself only scratches the names of his spidey-friends. This either means Rio and Jeff know enough of the people in the neighborhood to be aware Miles is not going out with any of them; or the relationships had deteriorated enough that neither party even thinks of the possibility of being with any of them.

That's...that's a lot.

Look, I am not going to say Miles changing school wouldn't affect his previous friendships, I know exactly how that works.

But in ITSV, Miles said it himself, he still lives here, none of them look like they live too far to be impossible to hang out with; and despite that, the only friend he seems to have is Genki; who aside from being his rommie, is the only person he has that knows his secret.

Which is probably, the only reason they are close enough for Miles's parents to know about him.

To top it all off, this shows that Miles isn't exactly shy, he may have not been fitting too well with his classmates at first but it has been over a year, and he should have been able to make more friends. If he wanted to.

And is not the only thing suffering.

I am not sure if the joke is that Miles is trying to soften the blow and the teacher is telling on him, or, that he legit forgot the number of classes. Considering it was obvious the woman was going to know and had no incentive in hiding this from his parents; I am inclined to believe Miles actually forgot how many classes he lost.

Considering how spidey emergencies work, 6 classes isn't that big of a thing, assuming this is the only class he has lost classes on. Knowing how the hero gig works you could expect more, but for my own sanity I will pretend it has been only these.

There is a big chance he missed those classes for really, bad situations where he needed to be there. However, we aren't actually sure; and considering the direction this movie is going, it is very feasible he may be messing around a few times.

And look, Miles grades are freaking amazing; seriously I was doing a lot worse in school without any hero business involved. But even if he obviously puts some level of priority in his studies, you can see that this is a struggling battle.

Not to mention the elephant in the room, that is the fact that the reason we know he is working so hard to have good grades, is because he wants to go to Princeton University.

Miles can't give the exact reason as to why in this scene, but this is really all we need to hear:

I really don't need to explain myself further, but because I already had the image at hand from something else, here it is.

The only not related to Spider-man is that he is somewhat prioritizing, and has to do more to see the other Spiders than his actual future.

I think this becomes more obvious when you remember that as smart as he is with Physics, in the first movie he wasn't really interested; despite what he knew he was trying to fumble that class like the rest of them, trying to quit. The only thing he seemed passionate about was his art, which is the other class that he is doing amazingly.

I had seen people argue Miles' dream will probably be related to art, if it wasn't because seeing the other spiders has become even more important than that, deciding to try to get into the best Physics Program in the country just to see if he has a chance to meet them again. That's a lot of time, effort, and work; and is not even about him or what he wants to do for the rest of his life.

In a way, this movie comes to a conclusion about it, but I think I want to talk more about that when we focus on Miles' parents.

Thank you for reading, hope this gives you guys some perspective about Miles; I feel I don't see a lot of people picking up on this, which is a shame since I feel the story with his family gains a deeper layer by having both parties struggling in their own areas.

[kattywonders]

KIKUFUKU

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

The sun was already to focused on the earth to care about the moon. Smothered by the shadow of Saturo Gojo, a name to grand to shine a grain of light on Itsuki Gojo. The younger sister of strongest sorcerer Jujutsu in modern history who can never measure up to the height of her brother. Traveling through the word of cursed spirits, teenage feelings, guilt, loss, and complex family issues. Chapter one Uploaded !!

⋆⭒˚｡⋆READ BEFORE CHAPTER ONE !!⋆⭒˚｡⋆

Hello! I am Kat, the author of this fic! Before we start, I want to explain a few things! First of all, which may make or break who will read. In this fic, I will try to not make it too tropey (no clue if that’s how it’s spelled). But I cannot promise anything; I will try my best! Another make-or-break is grammar. I will use checkers and stuff, but grammar is my weak spot, and I don’t want that to stop me from writing! Now, talk about the fic itself, which, of course, will contain spoilers for the second season, movie, first season, and manga.

The story may be written in the third person from Itsuki’s POV all the time, unless it changes from time to time. It follows Itsuki Gojo and her life in the JJK world. It will focus on all of her relationships with the people around her in the story! There will be no smut because I am uncomfortable with writing such and most of the characters are underage, and no weird sibling relationships besides UI UI and Mei Mei. I am using a fan-made technique from Reddit, so all the credit for Itsuki’s technique goes to Callum-AL02! I will explain the technique when she uses it! The story of JJK and its characters goes to Gege, as it is his work! I will aim to make the characters as close to their show personalities as I can! I will add TW to the chapters if needed, but if I forget any, remind me!

If you have read this far, thank you! I will try to finish the first chapter as quickly as I can! This was mainly for forewarning for readers! If you have any questions, ask away, and I will try to answer. Thanks for reading!!  This fic can also be found on AO3 that I will link !!

https://archiveofourown.org/users/noNameFound/profile

[hypersomniagame]

HYPERSOMNIA JUNE DEV LOG : “FASHIONABLY LATE”

Hi! I already wrote this entire dev log but I closed the tab by accident, so it's now 10:55pm and I'm going to try and speedrun writing something that took me an hour to write.

For all of you who follow HYPERSOMNIA, you should already know what the gist is here I've been saying this for 6 months.

if you don't know what this is or are confused on what HYPERSOMNIA is read the other dev logs i've said this like every time lol

So, just as a heads up this log isn't going to be super long with new content because I have been insanely busy these last few months! I just graduated High School and the last few months have been me cramming to make sure I pass and could graduate and now I am!!! Yay!!!

I won 2 awards at my grad (One of them being excellence in arts :D) and the other I was given a check for 200$ so I snagged one of these!

Super happy I finally got a display tablet for drawing, I've wanted one of these since I was like 14 and it feels awesome to have one now. I got this thing super cheap too, this thing usually goes for like 300-350 Canadian and I got it for 130! Super super happy about this.

That's all from me personally, but I would like to say just as 1 last thing before the updates, Happy Pride Month to all who identify as LGBTQ+, I myself am queer and just want to remind all of you that you are loved and accepted. Hopefully I can get this out before midnight so it's still pride month LOL

OK! NOW FOR UPDATES! I don't have too much to share today but I do have somethings I want to show off.

First things first, I've been respriting some characters! Ross and Jack are the biggest edits I've made so far so I'd like to show them off.

(Left is old, and right is new!)

Ross' walking sprites were updated! I was kind of dissatisfied with how Ross looks like he's struttin' everywhere so I redid it to give him a more casual walk. I'm very happy with this change and I plan for it to be the base walking animation going forward. I also updated his side profiles slightly to look closer to the key art I illustrated.

Jack also had his idles redone! He I think was the biggest thing I needed to resprite, his old sprite is kind of cluttered and poorly detailed so for his new one I simplified a lot of the shading and reshaped his hair and mask. I think it came out really well.

Also, just earlier I was working on music for the game.

I'm really happy with how this came out, I just got high and made Half-Life music (Which is what I was aiming for LOL)

Hopefully I can get to a point where I can finish off the soundtrack for the demo and post it all. Some friends of mine were a bit sad I delisted the tracks I had up initially so I hope to get those up again soon.

I've also been storyboarding out some early game cutscenes, I can't show a lot because it's all a bit spoiler-y but I will put this in the log.

And one last thing too, THE MOTHER DIRECT!

on July 27 at 6PM ET, MOTHER FOREVER will be hosting the MOTHER Direct, which HYPERSOMNIA is a part of!

There'll be a ton of indie games, fan projects, and other things relating to or inspired by the MOTHER series! Please give it a watch if you can. If you can't make it, the event will remain on MOTHER FOREVER's YouTube channel, and I'll be uploading HYPERSOMNIA's trailer on YouTube, Twitter, Steam, and here. If you do catch the stream or end up watching it after, leave a comment! Tell 'em Ferris sent ya. Do it, or I'll cry. I'm expecting at least 1 "Ferris sent me!" or I'll cry. I swear, I will do it!

If this is your first log you're reading, or even your first time seeing ANYTHING relating to HYPERSOMNIA, I got a whole bunch of links for you to check out if you wanna know more about me and my stupid little game.

TWITTER

YOUTUBE

STEAM

UNIQUE INDIE RPG'S [SHOW US YOUR GAME!]

[PREV] [ABOUT HYPERSOMNIA] [NEXT]

[jinxedruby]

Febuwhump Day Seventeen: Hostage Situation

Featuring Time, Warriors, and Wind. This is the conclusion to Wind getting kidnapped (day four: obedience and day thirteen: you weren't supposed to get hurt).

Well, this sure is long. Fun fact: I wrote this by hand and wrote so hard that my fingers were tingling by the time I finished haha

Heads up for some graphic injury and several minor character deaths (they're all bad guys and none are very graphic).

AO3

First part | <- Previous part | Next part ->

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

Time stood beside Warriors, staring out at the river beyond the harbor. Water lapped at the numerous boats and ships moored at the docks, the fresh smell of the river filling Time’s nose. Sky stepped up beside him, peering out toward where the river stretched nearly to the horizon, only the slightest strip of land visible on the other side.

“Wow,” he said quietly. “Are we sure this isn’t an ocean?”

“Doesn’t smell like it,” Legend replied from where everyone else stood behind Time and the others.

“I didn’t know rivers could get this big,” Hyrule murmured.

“Which is why we need to find the sailor as soon as possible,” Warriors stated, turning to address the group. “There are a lot of ships. We should split up so we can cover more ground.”

Everyone paid the captain rapt attention as he split the group into pairs. Normally, that sort of job fell to Time, but his fingertips tingled and the roof of his mouth buzzed, millions of thoughts drumming against the inside of his skull. He could hardly focus on a coherent train of thought aside from save him, save him. He felt immensely grateful that Warriors could focus and strategize. He’d have to thank the captain once all of this was over and Wind was safe.

“Old man, you with me?” A tap on his shoulder snapped him out of his thoughts. Warriors stood in front of him, gazing at him with a carefully neutral expression. When Time nodded, Warriors continued, “You and I will search the middle few docks here.” He turned to point them out and Time nodded again.

“What about the watchman?” Four asked as the pairs began to split off. “Won’t he notice us poking around the ships?”

“If this is anything like my era, the watchmen are there to make sure no one shoves off in the middle of the night,” Warriors replied. “Just don’t do anything loud and they shouldn’t bother us.”

Four nodded before heading off toward the docks with Twilight. Warriors turned to Time again.

“Ready?”

Time nodded sharply, gaze hardening as he looked out over the ships. He set off toward them, Warriors beside him. Time had to consciously remind himself not to run, despite the angst and impatience prickling under his skin. They passed by one or two errant crew members but weren’t given a second glance. Time had remained out of his armor and Warriors had removed his spaulder and scarf in order to keep a low profile. They’d also left behind their shields as Warriors worried that the moonlight reflecting off of them would draw too much attention. With only their weapons strapped to them, they could pass off as generic guards hired onto ships.

The dock creaked beneath them as they stepped onto the wood, their footsteps joining in with the rhythm of the water flowing and pushing against the ships. Several of the boats were small enough that they could simply peer over the edge and see no one aboard. The other larger ones required boarding and therefore stealth. As Time slipped past a crew member watching the deck, he remembered sneaking through the Gerudo and pirate fortresses. These men were far less observant than the Gerudo, making sneaking onto and off of the ships unseen that much easier. The cover of night certainly helped as well. He and Warriors methodically checked every ship along the dock as quickly as they could while still being thorough. With every ship they checked and no sign of Wind, Time grew more anxious. When they searched the last ship with still nothing after an hour had passed, he felt close to exploding. Warriors squeezed his shoulder reassuringly as they walked back up the dock.

“There are a lot of ships, old man,” he murmured.

That hardly made Time feel better. He clenched and unclenched his hands, trying to control his breathing. When they began down the next dock, he blurted out what had been on his mind since Wind was kidnapped.

“They thought I was his father.”

Warriors half-turned to him, brow pinched.

“In… in the moment, I…” Time pursed his lips, digging his nails into his palms.

Warriors rested a heavy hand on Time’s shoulder. “We’ll find him.”

Time let out a slow breath and nodded. The second dock took just as long to search and proved just as fruitless. Another hour gone, daylight creeping ever closer. Third dock. Nothing. Time pounded his fist against the side of the last boat on the dock. Warriors shot him a concerned glance, but he looked almost as close to snapping as Time felt. When they began the trek to the next dock, Time glanced at the ones further away to try and get a glimpse of the others. He thought he saw a blond head over the edge of one of the ships, but it was hard to tell. In any case, he could see no indication that the others had found anything. He and Warriors started down the fourth dock and Time felt close to simply screaming for Wind and hoping to get a response. He clenched his jaw to prevent himself from doing that and spooking the traffickers into hiding even better. When only three ships remained at the end of the dock, Time’s heart sank. Two ships and a boat. He could see from where he stood that the boat sat empty. That left two ships. Cogs, he thought he remembered the captain calling them.

Warriors pointed to himself then to the ship on the right, just as he’d done at the ends of the last three docks. Steeling himself, Time headed for the cog on the left. A shadowy figure moved about on the deck and Time ducked down, hugging the side of the ship and moving toward the gangway.

“You sure we shouldn’t grab another one while we’re here? We paid that customs officer off.”

Time went still at a voice from the cog, heart thudding in his ears.

“I’m sure.”

Time’s eye widened, blood freezing. That voice. Evenin’, gentlemen, he could hear that voice drawl.

“If the kid’s father survived, he’ll be making a big fuss. ‘Sides, that officer will only look the other way for so much. He hears about kids going missing, he might decide to grow a conscience.”

Time’s hands shook. This was it. This- this- Warriors. He needed to tell Warriors. After several tries and with monumental effort, he stepped away from the cog, slinking across the dock to the ship Warriors had gone to search.

“Oh, shit- Hey! We got a problem!”

Time’s head snapped around at the shout, fearing he’d been caught. But the figures aboard the cog weren’t looking at him, they were running toward the center of the ship, vanishing out of sight behind the sides. Boots pounded on what sounded like stairs. Several exchanges passed back and forth, muffled below deck. Then Time heard the words ‘kid’s gone.’ His chest tightened, eye widening. Quickly, he turned back to the ship Warriors was on.

“Captain!” he hissed as loudly as he dared. Warriors appeared over the side of the ship after a few moments, eyes round. Time pointed to the cog and he heard Warriors suck in a breath. The captain raced toward the gangway with soft steps, hurrying down it and joining Time to head to the cog. The voices from below deck raised, Time catching words like ‘don’t know’ and ‘here somewhere.’ Did Wind escape after all? Time glanced around, noticed the captain doing the same, but he didn’t catch sight of the fluffy blond head or blue tunic. Time reached the gangway first, creeping up it with Warriors just behind him. He stayed low, cautiously poking his head over the side of the ship when he was close enough. Moonlight spilled across an empty deck, warm torchlight emanating from a staircase in the center, leading below. He carefully stepped onto the deck, heard the soft thud of Warriors landing behind him. As they moved toward the stairs, the conversation below deck became clearer.

“-tching the deck the whole night, I swear, he couldn’t have gotten past.”

“Which means, like I said, that he must be down here somewhere,” the man that first approached Time and Wind said. “Stop panicking and start searching. It’s a small space, he doesn’t have that many options. Go watch the stairs to make sure he doesn’t slip past.”

Hurried footsteps came toward the stairs and Warriors and Time quickly moved around to the back of them so they wouldn’t be easily spotted. A sharp thwack like someone kicked something sounded, followed by a chuckle.

“Resourceful little brat, aren’t you?” the first man called.

Footsteps thudded on the stairs, the head of a different man appearing below Time and Warriors. Time carefully withdrew his gilded sword from its sheath on his lower back, silently stepping around the side of the stairs, remaining just out of the man’s peripherals. The man jogged up the stairs and turned around with a huff, agitatedly scratching the top of his head. His eyes darted toward where Time crouched and he froze, going bug-eyed. He opened his mouth to yell but Time moved faster. He whipped his sword about, slamming the flat of it against the side of the man’s head. Warriors was there before Time could blink, catching the man as he crumpled before he could hit the deck and alert the other traffickers.

None of that mattered though, as the second man that had followed the first up saw everything.

Before Time or Warriors could move, the man put his fingers to his lips and let out a sharp whistle. Warriors cursed and drew his blade as footsteps pounded from below them. The whistler took a step back down the stairs, yanking a knife from within his coat. Three more men appeared behind him. Then they all rushed up the stairs.

Time blocked the first blow with his sword, returning it with a strike of his own. The tip of the blade nicked the man in the arm, who grunted, stumbling back down a step. Another took his place, slashing at Time. Time automatically lifted his right arm to block before remembering he didn’t have his shield. He caught the blade on his forearm, clenching his teeth as it sliced through his brown undershirt and into his skin. He resisted the urge to step back, parrying the next attack.

Warriors yelped and Time glanced at him out of the corner of his eye to see the captain fall to one knee. The man Time knocked out had already woken back up and sunk a dagger into Warriors’ calf. The moment the captain went down, the men on the stairs surged forward. Time jerked forward to block a blow aimed for the captain’s neck while Warriors twisted around to fend off the man behind him. In moving, Time left an opening for the men to slip past him up the stairs. He dodged a swing, stepped so he stood directly beside Warriors, turning to face the traffickers. They circled like sharks, jumping back when Time slashed at them. He tried to find a moment to switch to the biggoron sword, but the attackers gave him no respite. They traded strike after strike, forcing Time to go on the defensive as he tried to remain as a wall between them and Warriors so the captain could recover.

The deck lurched beneath him and he staggered back into Warriors. The other men lost their footing at the unexpected motion as well, the fight halting momentarily as everyone focused on regaining their balance. A loud clatter sounded behind him.

“What are you doing?!” one man shouted.

“They’ve got company!”

Time risked a glance over his shoulder to see a different man, one that must have snuck around the other four, dropping a long pole onto the deck. The gangway lay on the dock, presumably having fallen from the cog when the man shoved away from the dock. The ropes keeping the ship in place were cut clean through. Two figures sprinted down the dock and Time recognized them to be Sky and Hyrule, the two that had been searching docks closest to him and Warriors. By the time they reached the end, the cog had already drifted too far away and Sky had to grab Hyrule to keep him from running right off the dock, the traveler not stopping fast enough.

Time didn’t get a chance to see what they did next, whipping back around to defend against the men. One lunged forward and Time ducked under the swing. He shoved off one foot, driving his shoulder into the man’s gut and knocking him back down the stairs. The man tumbled with a series of thuds and yelps as the others dove at Time. He blocked one attack which left him unable to dodge the other, knife slashing across his shoulder. He forced the first attacker away and stepped backwards. His back hit something warm and solid. He stiffened, turning, only to find Warriors fending off both the man that had stabbed him and the one responsible for undocking the ship. He turned back just in time to intercept an overhead swing with his sword, riposting and leaving a deep gash in the man’s chest. One knife clanged against his sword, another deflected off his arm and leaving another deep cut. He gritted his teeth, trying and failing to find a moment to grab his biggoron sword. Between Warriors at his back, the four men surrounding his front and right, and the stairs to his left, he had very little room to maneuver.

One man made a clumsy swing, overextending. Time knocked the knife aside, throwing the man off balance. Then he followed up by running his sword through the man’s gut. The man’s eyes bulged before Time ripped his sword free and he collapsed. The remaining three hesitated. In a flash, Time swapped the gilded sword for the biggoron sword. He swept the massive blade out in front of him in a half circle. The first man in its path failed to dodge in time, receiving a devastating slash along his middle. The others leapt back with a cry as he fell, his blood pooling beneath him and mingling with the other man’s. Time pushed his advantage, stepping forward and swiping the claymore in front of him again, forcing the men further back. A sharp yell from behind him spoke of Warriors’ success and a thrill of adrenaline rushed through Time as he realized they could win this.

“Let’s everyone calm down!” a bellow carried across the deck. A yelp accompanied it that made Time’s blood run cold. He glanced back toward the stairs he’d moved several feet away from and his heart stopped.

The man that had first approached them stood at the top of the stairs with a smug grin. His fingers twisted into the sun-bleached blond locks of Wind, a knife pressed to the sailor’s throat. Wind writhed in his grip until the blade pressed against his skin hard enough to draw blood, a mixture of anger and fear etched into his face. Blood roared in Time’s ears as he watched, eye stretched wide, hands shaking.

“You two are going to put down your weapons,” the man said casually. He yanked Wind’s head back so more of the sailor’s neck was exposed, tilted the blade more directly against his throat. “Alright?”

“You won’t kill him,” Warriors spat. Time’s gaze darted over to see Warriors staring down the man with utter loathing, knuckles white around the hilt of his sword. “He’s merchandise.”

The man cocked his head to one side and flashed a grin at the captain. “You’re right.” Then in one swift movement, he pulled the knife away from Wind’s neck and plunged it into the sailor’s arm, dragging the blade along toward his elbow. Wind yelped, high-pitched and sharp, as Warriors and Time both shouted. Heat rushed into Time’s face as he watched blood soak into Wind’s sleeve. The man flicked the knife, blood droplets scattering from the blade, before returning it to rest against the cut, drawing a small gasp from the sailor. “Nothing a potion can’t fix.”

Time could barely see straight. Pure rage boiled in his chest and throat, flooding his head. Unconsciously, he took a step toward the man and Wind, but stopped as the man shoved the point of the blade into the gash again. Wind gave a strangled shout, digging his nails into the man’s arm in an attempt to free himself, but to no avail.

“I’ll repeat myself as many times as it takes,” the man said, smile dark. “Drop your weapons.”

Half a beat passed and the man stabbed the knife deep into Wind’s arm. He twisted the weapon and Wind screamed, the sound piercing Time’s very soul. Time tore his hands away from the hilt of his sword, the blade clattering to the ground at the same time as Warriors’. The man’s grin widened and Time’s blood screeched through his veins with a hatred stronger than any he’d ever felt before. His skin burned despite the cool air pulling past him as the cog drifted farther and farther down the river. He was so focused on watching the tears roll from Wind’s eyes that he didn’t see the shadow racing toward them across the water until the last moment.

The oncoming boat rammed directly into the cog. The impact sent everyone flying with shouts. A couple men unlucky enough to be near the edge sailed right over it, plunging into the river with distant splashes. Time tumbled across the deck, colliding with another body. He ripped himself away as pandemonium erupted around him. More men came from below deck, shouting about a breach in the hull. The man he’d crashed into attacked, launching himself into Time. They toppled back, Time sent a punch into the man’s jaw. His shoulders hit something hard. He recognized it as the side of the ship. The man wrestled his way on top of Time, aiming a blow at his face. Time let it hit, instead reaching to plant his hands on the man’s middle. Then he shoved, curling and kicking the man up and over his head. The man fell over the side of the ship with a yell. Time sprang to his feet before even hearing the splash, head reeling slightly from the hit. He glanced around for his sword, discovered Legend and Wild on the deck, coming from the boat they’d crashed into the cog with.

A holler from his right alerted him to a man running up in his blind spot. The man slashed, Time ducked under the swing. He dove forward, catching the man off guard, and shoved him over the side and into the river. He turned back, remembered the gilded sword, yanked it from its sheath. He heard a grunt and spun to his left to see two men pinning Warriors to the deck. All three were unarmed and the captain kicked at them as one fisted a hand in his hair and slammed his head back into the deck. Time darted up to them. He stabbed one through the back, the other noticing the fatal blow and leaping aside. Legend appeared behind the man and smashed the hilt of his sword into the man’s temple. Warriors stumbled to his feet, Time reaching out to steady him.

“I’m- I’m good,” Warriors panted as he regained his footing. His injured leg gave beneath him but he managed to catch himself before falling. “Get the sailor!”

Time nodded and darted away, head swiveling as he looked around for Wind. He vaguely became aware of water burbling underfoot, but he couldn’t care about that. Wild fired arrows from across the deck but switched to his sword when a man got too close. Legend leapt back into the fray with a cry, tempered sword gleaming in the moonlight. Then he spotted Wind, the sailor clutching a knife in his good hand and fending off a trafficker. Time took off toward him. He made it two steps before a body collided with him, bringing him to the ground. The impact knocked his sword from his grasp, sending it skittering across the deck. He twisted, managing to knock the pair of hands away before they could wrap around his neck. He punched man in the gut then shoved, pushing him over and sending them rolling so Time was on top. He grabbed the man’s head and slammed it against the deck. Then he did it again, and again, until the man fell still. He scrambled to his feet, gaze darting to where he last saw Wind. He located Wind just as the sailor sank the knife into a man’s gut, sending him down. Wind slumped forward with a gasp, staggering slightly. He didn’t see the first man approach from behind.

A red haze flooded Time’s vision. Before he knew what happened, he sprinted across the deck, careened into the man, and brought him down. The man’s shout cut off with a gag as Time grabbed his throat, pressing all his weight down into his hands. He’d kill him, he’d kill him, for everything he’d done to Wind, to his son. Everything the man would’ve done, everything he would’ve allowed to happen, everything, everything-

Something popped under his hands then all at once someone grabbed his shoulders, trying to pull him back, shouts filling his ears.

“-dead, he’s dead, Link, please!”

Time blinked and his grip loosened. Warriors yanked him back with all his strength and pulled him back off the body. Neither expecting the sudden motion, they fell to the deck in a tangled heap, Warriors ending up half beneath Time. Legend appeared above Time, grabbing his hand, pulling him up. He said something that Time didn’t register, Time glancing back almost numbly to make sure he hadn’t hurt Warriors. Then he caught sight of Wind. The sailor staggered toward him, arm drenched in blood, bits of flesh jutting out of the wound and through the hole in his sleeve. A cry tore itself from Time’s throat and he wrenched his hand out of Legend’s grip, lunging for Wind. Wind’s expression crumpled just before Time collided with him. He gathered the sailor into his arms, shaking as he clutched the back of Wind’s head and held him tight against his chest. Wind’s body hitched with a sob, arms coming up to hug Time in a death grip. Time rocked back and forth, arms shaking as he stroked Wind’s hair, tucking the sailor’s head beneath his chin. Wind was here, he was safe, and Time felt quite certain in that moment that he would never let him go ever again. Then Warriors appeared at their side, squeezing Time’s shoulder saying they had to go, ‘I’m sorry, we have to move, now.’ Time stared at him for a long moment before sound came crashing back properly into his ears. He’d hardly noticed its absence until it returned. Water roared below deck, rushing in through whatever breach the ram caused and filling the cog.

“The ship’s got a raft!” Wild yelled. Time looked up to see the champion standing at the back of the ship, one leg up on the ledge. “We can take it to shore, but we have to go now!”

Warriors shook Time’s shoulder. “Come on, Link, we have to move.”

Time nodded jerkily, unsteadily getting to his feet and keeping his hold on Wind. The sailor made no comment on being carried, hiccupping and burrowing deeper into Time’s shirt. Time, Warriors, and Legend hurried to join Wild. Warriors stooped to grab Time’s gilded sword as they passed it while Legend darted away to grab the biggoron sword where it had slid across the deck. Once they approached, Wild turned and jumped off the back of the ship. Time’s heart fluttered with panic before he reached the side and saw Wild standing on a dinghy lashed to the back of the cog. Time secured his hold on Wind before jumping the short distance down. Wild had already begun attempting to untie the dinghy by the time he landed. The champion cursed, fumbling with the knot as the cog let out a loud groan, tipping slowly to one side. Time stumbled and quickly sat down, taking one hand off of Wind and bracing it against the thwart to steady them.

Just as Wild gave up and reached for his sword, Legend jumped forward, deftly undoing the knot. The dinghy plunged and Time’s stomach fell away. The boat slammed into the water with a splash, water jetting up the sides and raining down on the heroes. Legend snatched oars from beneath the thwarts. He sat at the dinghy’s bow, stuck the oars in the water, and rowed. Two powerful strokes had them gliding across the water away from the cog. Another loud groan reverberated across the water. Time looked back just as it rolled belly-up. The boat Legend and Wild had rammed into it got pushed beneath it, sinking below the surface. The river slowly swallowed the cog, bringing the bodies of the traffickers into its embrace.

Wind shivered in Time’s arms. Time looked down at him, suddenly aware of something warm and wet seeping into the front of his shirt. He gently pulled Wind back to see the sailor’s arm curled between them, blood soaking into both of their clothes.

“Potion,” Time said, voice raspy. His head snapped up to look at the others frantically. “Potion, he needs a potion!”

Wild and Warriors both reached into their pouches, withdrawing bottles.

“Drink yours, Captain, you’re hurt,” Wild said, holding his out to Time. Warriors didn’t argue but he didn’t drink either, watching as Time grabbed the bottle. Time pulled the cork out with tingling fingers, holding it to Wind’s lips. Wind lifted his good hand to it and tilted it back, gulping it down. The others all watched, making sure he drank it all. As he did, the flow of blood from his arm stemmed, the wound closing. He finished it with a gasp, sitting up a bit straighter in Time’s lap as he did.

“Alright, Sailor?” Warriors asked softly. Wind nodded a bit unsteadily, sinking sideways into Time and resting his head on the old man’s chest.

“Captain, drink,” Wild gently reminded him. Warriors watched Wind for a moment longer before knocking back the potion and sighing with relief. Since the dinghy moved along at a steady pace, Time wrapped his other arm back around Wind, enveloping the sailor in warmth. Wind wound his arm around Time’s waist, pulling himself closer.

“Thank you,” he whispered.

Time’s heart squeezed. The exhaustion of the battle, the pain of the cuts in his arm, the stress, the panic, the rage, everything came crashing down all at once. A wave of dizziness struck him, chest and extremities tingling. He exhaled through his nose and rested his cheek on Wind’s hair. He held Wind close, feeling the sailor’s little torso expanding and contracting with each breath. He closed his eye and held Wind just a little tighter.

[zukoromantic]

HAPPY BELATED CHRISTMAS AND A HAPPY NEW YEAR TO @smarter-than-the-smarties !!!!!

I know i'm not exactly early, but I'm your secret santa for @duckblrsecretsanta2023 ! :D I hope you're having lovely holidays! ^^🩵

I love your taste in characters and decided to write a small Agent 22 mission fic where she chases down a certain scientist! I hope you enjoy it! It reminded me how much fun these characters are, so I for one was happy to work on it <3

(thanks to @ai-higurashi who beta read!)

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

Agent 22 looked at the city in front of her. Everything seemed normal. Busy, naturally for a city of this size, but normal.

SHUSH had gotten information that Black Heron had made her way to Paris. And of course Bentina had been the one immediately sent to follow. She had had several encounters with the woman. A scientist with a bigger sense for drama than could be found on any stage in the world. Which was the only reason she qualified as a threat at all.

Currently, 22 was seated in a news helicopter surveilling the city, along with a SHUSH coordinator and a pilot.

”She will undoubtedly try pulling a stunt at one of the landmarks. We should keep an eye on the city from the sky.”

Additionally, she had suggested the design of a news helicopter to keep a low profile. Sure, it was bigger than they would usually be, but it was more convenient to have some space.

Technically, the mission coordinator should have had a word in the planning, but Bentina usually took charge on most parts of a mission.

It was one of the reasons people weren’t exactly keen on working with her.

That didn’t matter to her though. Her focus was on the mission at hand at all times. It was only natural she would make sure everything went as smoothly as possible.

At least the coordinator was the one keeping in touch right now with SHUSH headquarters.

“22, we got word. Black Heron has been sighted on the Eiffel Tower.”

“Of course she has." The Eiffel Tower had been her number one guess. It was not just the most famous but also the tallest one of the sights in the city. Plenty of attention.

“What is it that she’s doing?”

“They don't know yet. She seems to be armed, highest platform, everyone is making their way down as we speak. We will land right now as close as we can and get up the tower.”

“We don’t have time for that. Get me as close to the tower as you can.”

“22, that -”

“Got it.” Before the coordinator could finish his objection, the pilot had already set course. Much to her colleague’s dismay. “We are going to attract plenty of unwanted attention! Besides, this is far too unsafe.”

Beakley didn’t so much as spare him a glance. “It’s either us or her. If we find time to land and get to the top of a structure that’s about a thousand feet tall, it will be too late. Send support now to assist with the arrest, I am getting to her now.”

While talking, she got up from her seat and grabbed some of her tools that she had stored away in a box.

One of them, a rope gun. Beakley positioned herself in front of one of the doors as they hovered down and closer to the landmark.

She couldn't see Heron from their position. She was most likely at the other side of the platform and had other things to do than paying attention to the helicopter.

“Can’t get closer than that!”, shouted the pilot from the front.

Beakley took a breath. It wasn’t her first time doing this, but she had to focus.

Steady aim.

Focus.

Shoot.

A rope dashed out of the gun straight to the top of the tower.

Hit.

It was a SHUSH special gadget. The tip functioned like a simple suction cup but about eighteen times more effectively. She would need it if she were to slide down on this rope.

Quickly, she fixed her end of the rope in the helicopter and snapped the handle into place before holding onto it tightly. Thank goodness she had done this a hundred times.

The last thing she heard before daring the final step was her coordinator instructing her to not be too reckless. As if she of all people needed a reminder.

A jump and her feet lost solid ground. With a high but still controlled speed, she soared through the air towards the tower. Heron still wasn’t in sight. The woman must be very occupied so as not to notice her arrival.

Better for her.

She prepared to jump off at the right moment. She needed to be careful not to crash into the -

Now!

22 let her hands loosen the grip and she fell into the space between the fence and the wall; landing in a way to deal as little damage as possible to her own body.

The loud thump she landed with felt appropriate however, as it wasn’t exactly like falling into pillows.

But she had learned not to dwell on any pain. She had obtained no injuries, so she could proceed undeterred.

With the sound however, she suspected that Heron must have noticed her at last.

“What kind of reporter are y-” an unmistakable voice yelled from her right in the square pathway, allowing Beakley to face the correct direction.

A woman in a short reddish dress - covered by a black cloak for once - and a long pointy beak showed up at the corner. Her eyes darted between the rope contraption and the agent in front of her for a moment.

“22?! Is there anywhere you won’t follow me?” Despite the surprise in her voice, Black Heron was also obviously displeased.

22 didn’t bother replying. “Whatever it is you’re doing, surrender now and SHUSH will consider a lighter sentence for your crimes.”

Heron’s expression shifted to annoyance.

“Always so to the point. You’re not even curious what my plan is? I go through all this effort and you expect me to surrender without even revealing anything?”

Beakley didn’t allow herself to be irritated by this madwoman. She didn't know if Heron had set up a timer of sorts earlier for a bomb or any other dangerous device. So she needed to hurry. However, if the scientist was so keen on sharing information, it might be faster to get a quick information from the woman herself.

“Did you plant a bomb up here?”

“A bomb? Don’t be silly, where’s the fun in that? I’m not that kind of terrorist! That’s far too impersonal.”

Apparently, Beakley wouldn’t get much information this way after all. It would be faster if she made her talk.

She dashed forwards towards the woman - only to halt in her movements when she pulled something from her dress.

“Nuh-uh, 22! What’s the rush with you?”

It wasn’t the first time Beakley had a gun pointed at her. But this one looked odd. It seemed too large to be carrying regular bullets. She had no idea what it could possibly fire. Which, unfortunately, meant that she had no idea if she could dodge whatever might be fired at her.

She scanned the environment and considered her options. The gap between the two women wasn’t large but enough to give Heron time to shoot if Beakley were to attack her.

For now she would let Heron monologue about her plan and then when she was a bit more distracted disarm her.

“I took a lot of time to prepare this, you know? I managed to build devices small enough to bring up here undiscovered that will release the biggest firework you have ever seen!” Her eyes lit up. “They’ll display my name and face for everyone to see!” She followed up with her signature maniacal laugh.

Beakley ignored the urge to call Heron out on her ridiculous plan and used the opportunity. It was good she could count on the scientist to ramble herself into losing focus.

In the blink of an eye, 22 did a roll on the floor to Heron’s left side.

Heron’s gun went off. But Beakley didn't feel herself getting harmed, so she remained on task.

While getting up, close enough to Heron, she kicked the woman in the legs, “OWch, can you -”, before she slapped the gun out of her hands.

“How dare you interrupt me when I’m making a speech?!”

Beakley quickly grabbed her opponent’s arm, but simultaneously checked to see what she had fired at her and if it was still dangerous. It was something shaped like a little rocket with smoke coming out of it. It was probably to leave people unconscious. She had never seen this weapon on Heron’s hands before and for a moment she wondered what else she managed to come up with since the last time she saw her.

This was her mistake.

Heron used the moment to slip out of the agent’s grip and run the other way.

Beakley cursed herself for it and gave chase.

“Stop this, Heron! You’re obsessed!”

Heron obviously did not have a lot of room for talking, being the one followed. But she could never resist a conversation, Beakley had found.

“I’m the obsessed one?! You’re the one chasing me across borders! In fact, I must be a pretty big deal for you to always get so worked up about me.”

She slid onto the ground, arriving at one of two boxes she had fixed to the ground. Before she was able to fumble with it, Beakley caught up to her.

She tackled the scientist, making sure her hands were far from the contraption. These must be bearing the fireworks she had talked about. Being so close, she took note of something metal wrapped around the woman’s torso. Another weapon? Whatever it was, she would make sure it would do her no good.

“Obsessed? Your attention stunts are a nuisance at best. I'm just the one cleaning up your messes.”

She couldn’t believe a woman like her was accusing an agent like herself of being obsessed. Far from it. This scientist with way too much free time on her hands was proving to be more annoying than Beakley would like to admit.

“My attention stunts? You got up here in a helicopter!”

“What other choice do you leave me?!”

Beakley was getting sick of this woman. She didn’t have time for this.

She pushed her, pinning her wrists to the ground. Help was on the way, but she would have Heron arrested before that.

And yet, to her surprise, she was met with a smile.

“Oh, pretty forward, aren’t we, 22?”

If Beakley had had to describe her tone, it would have been - flirty? That couldn’t be.

“What are you talking about?”

The smirk didn’t fade. “If you wanted me like this, all you needed to do was ask. I suppose, this is the city of love after all…”

Beakley wanted to loosen her grip, but she couldn’t. She wouldn’t let herself get distracted. This was just Heron’s way of attempting to throw her off.

“The only place I want you is behind bars. You are nothing but my assignment!”

Bentina held her stern gaze against the sudden fire in the scientist’s eyes.

“Oh, come on! Aren’t you having at least a little bit of fun? You chose this life the same way I did. Don’t you feel the tension?”

It was a trick. Beakley wouldn’t respond.

“Tracking down the enemy, trying to catch them, just barely having them escape, only for your paths to cross again next time?”

Now that made her take offense.

“I am NOT letting you escape.” To prove her point, her grip tightened.

Heron lifted her head slightly, looking even deeper into the agent’s eyes.

“Don’t be so sure, ma chérie.”

With these words, she took a breath and hit her elbow against her dress pocket, smashing something inside.

Before Beakley could realize what was happening, smoke started to rise from where she had aimed the hit. The same concept as the rocket.

As quickly as she could, Bentina also took a breath and held it. But it was a bit too late. She had to cough and let go of the woman underneath her to cover her face with her arm.

Naturally, this allowed the scientist to wriggle her way out of the position.

Beakley tried to grab her, but everything happened so fast, it was no use.

She heard something explode.

“I’ll see you next time, 22!”

The next thing she saw was Heron standing at the safety fence, having damaged the metal enough to break her way through it.

She had dropped her cloak and jumped off the platform.

Bentina stumbled towards the hole in the fence to discover that Heron had leapt and - taken flight. A pair of metal wings on her back allowed her to soar away safely.

She formed a fist and punched the still intact part of the fence. She had been so close.

Next time, she would get her.

She remembered what Heron had said about chasing the enemy. What would be fun about needing to take care of such a frustrating person’s messes?

She’d put an end to her. For SHUSH’s and everyone else’s sake.

I suppose this is the city of love after all…

The villain’s words echoed in her head. Maybe it was a bit for her own sake as well. And maybe this one time she would consider not including every part of a conversation in her misison report.

Maybe even she could make an exception once in a while.

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I don't know if it counts as light angst, but it was what i was originally going for, Beakley is so bitter...! <3 Once again, hopefully you enjoyed it either way!

Happy holidays 🎉✨