#(he knew she would never have left the dog) and on the news article there were SO many comments of people who were only sad about the dog | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

natrogersfics · 1 year

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PREVIEW - Game Plan: Chapter 9

Artwork by @faith2nyc Catch up on Chapters 1-8

There’s something about the air in London that makes Natasha crave tea. She couldn’t exactly prove it, but as she fills her mug with freshly boiled water, she can’t help but give the theory some credence. Coffee has been her caffeine fix of choice for as long as she can recall. She does not dare go a day without it, and yet, every time she finds herself across the pond, she catches herself reaching for a nice cup of Earl Grey instead.

“I’ll make a tea drinker out of you yet.”

“It’s either this or the swill in your cupboard also known as instant coffee,” she retorts without looking back as she plunges the tea bag into the mug, letting it steep. “Seriously, why even bother keeping any?”

“Mobius keeps it around for when he’s desperate.”

With her drink in hand, she turns to find Loki standing by the doorway of his kitchen, a sleeping puppy nestled securely in his arms. “That man is a glutton for punishment.”

“Oh, you’ve no idea,” Loki says with a wiggle of his eyebrows, prompting her to chuckle as she makes her way over to them.

“Good morning, Fenrir,” she coos, running her free hand over the dog’s shiny black fur. Loki, ever the clean freak, hadn’t been too happy when his sister had dropped Fenrir off at his place yesterday, citing a work emergency that she needed to attend to. Taking in the current scene, though, one would never have guessed that her friend had spent the entire day complaining about having to pick up after the pup. She looks back at Loki, smirking. “I told you you’d eventually fall in love.”

Loki scoffs. “I believe that’s the same thing I said about your new hair color.”

As if on reflex, she reaches for the tail end of her now very blonde braid. Yelena had barely left her apartment when she received a phone call from Loki asking her what time her flight was arriving. He hadn’t bothered to ask her how she was doing or for clarification on the news articles she knows he’s seen circulating online, and she knew it’s because he already knew the answer to those. And while she had insisted that there was no need for her to fly out, Loki was having none of it. Either he would fly out or she would, but one thing was for certain, he wasn’t going to allow her to be alone during her leave. Despite her best efforts to persuade him otherwise, she knew there wasn’t any use in arguing with Loki when he was as determined as he was in that moment, and by the next day, she found herself on the redeye to London and walking straight into Loki’s awaiting arms upon landing in Heathrow.

That was nearly a week ago. Since then, there’s been seemingly bottomless bottles of Bordeaux, midnight baking, trips to the spa, and endless shenanigans that’s been nothing short of a salve for her soul. It was on her fourth day when she was accompanying Loki to get a trim when the receptionist had asked if she herself wanted anything done. Perhaps it was from the energy of being away from all of her woes and being digitally off the grid (Loki had taken her phone from her when she landed), but before she could give it too much thought, she found herself nodding and being led to the seat next to Loki.

If she’s being honest, she hadn’t put too much thought into what she wanted done. The only thing she knew was that she wanted a change, and between her hair having always been a fiery scarlet and her having already experimented with jet black box dye in college, bleaching it felt like the natural option. Nevertheless, as the foils were stripped away from her head later on to reveal her newly golden locks, she didn’t miss the slight wave of unease that permeated through her at the sight.

Not that she had permitted herself to flounder in the emotion for long. With a sigh, she had quashed the feeling as quickly as it had come. Change, as unsettling as it can be at times, is the only constant in the world. That’s what she had told Yelena not so long ago. And with that reminder, by the time the stylist had finished washing and running each section of her hair through a dryer and a roller brush, she found herself at peace with her decision.

“I wouldn’t say I’m in love with it,” she says. “It’s definitely growing on me, though.”

“Then I echo that sentiment when it comes to this mongrel.”

“Did you or did you not let him sleep in your bed last night?”

“I needed something to keep me warm while Mobius is away,” Loki says, sighing in concession when she shoots him a withering glare. “Fine! Him, I like.” He reaches over to pet Fenrir between the ears, the dog all but melting into his touch. “His owner, on the other hand, leaves much to be desired.”

“Hela is not that bad,” she reasons.

“Isn’t she?” Loki challenges. “She’s high-maintenance, full of herself-”

“How many conditioning treatments do you have in your shower again?” she asks, biting back an amused smile. Despite Loki’s harsh words for his twin sister, she knows that in his heart of hearts, he does not truly mean them. If Loki’s smarting at the moment, it’s only because Hela had gone from being the publicist for the club rivaling Loki’s to being the publicist for the entire Premier League within the last year. And, in the good name of sibling rivalry, Hela has taken every opportunity since to remind Loki of her impressive feat.

“You told me that the tangerine one made your hair feel soft as silk,” Loki reminds her. The doorbell rings before she can respond, though, prompting him to make a face. “Speaking of.” He looks down at Fenrir in his arms. “I am truly sorry you have to go home with the devil incarnate.”

“Be nice,” she scolds, shaking her head as she follows him. Loki pulls the door open to reveal Hela, her long onyx hair falling like a glossy curtain around her face as she stands at the doorstep, looking ever the power executive that she is in a black pantsuit and green silk blouse.

“Fenrir!” Hela exclaims, reaching to take the dog from Loki’s arms. “Mummy missed you, my love!” She nuzzles the top of Fenrir’s head as she adds, “I’m terribly sorry I had to leave you in such modest dwellings.”

Loki’s voice rises a decibel. “Modest dwellings?”

“Hela, hey,” she interjects, handing Loki her mug as she steps between him and Hela and ignores the scowl the former directs at her. “How have you been?”

“Oh, just fabulous, darling,” Hela says as she leans forward to give her a kiss on each cheek. “A little tired, but I suppose it comes with the territory.” She shrugs. “The Premier League being the most competitive in Europe and all.”

“I’ll bet,” she says, smiling back at Hela even as she elbows Loki when she hears him mutter something unkosher over the rim of his mug.

“What about you?” Hela says. “What brings you to town?”

“Nothing really,” she says before nodding towards Loki. “This one had invited me to stay over, and since I had time off from work, I figured why not.”

“Are you still working for the Avengers?” Hela asks, to which she nods. “The allure of American football has honestly always evaded me, but from a business standpoint, I can’t help but admire the NFL’s reach and its penchant for being one hell of a profitable bastard.”

She chuckles quietly. “Allowing commercials during the game has its perks.”

Hela hums, her expression growing pensive for a second, before her emerald eyes suddenly light up. “Have you ever considered hosting an NFL game here in London?”

“Hela, Natasha is here on holiday,” Loki tells his sister sternly. “Let’s not ruin it with talk about work.”

“It’s fine, Loki,” she says, placing a hand on Loki’s arm before looking back at Hela. “Besides, as happy as I would be to help you out, Hela, I’m afraid making that kind of arrangement is way above my pay grade.” She shrugs. “I work for the Avengers, not the entire NFL.”

“Not yet, that is,” Hela says with a wink. “Besides, you wouldn’t need the entire league, just two teams. If you could get the Avengers to agree, that’s half the battle already won.”

“True,” she concedes, “let me see what the GM-”

“Though I suppose your Quarterback is finding himself in quite a pickle these days, isn’t he?” Hela says before she can even finish her sentence. “What, with his pregnant ex showing up out of the blue like that.”

“Hela,” Loki says, a veiled warning in his tone.

“Whatever strategy your PR team thinks they’re using to save him is absolute bollocks, by the way,” Hela says, ignoring Loki as her gaze moves towards her. “Between us publicists, what in the world is happening over there?”

“I wouldn’t know,” she says, keeping her tone even. “I’m strictly focused on the team’s PR now.”

“Well, that explains everything,” Hela says, shaking her head. “Frankly, if he has even the slightest interest in salvaging his image after all this, he should have just admitted to being the father from the very beginning instead of whatever it is he thinks he’s doing right now.”

“What are you talking about?” she asks at the same time Hela’s name falls pointedly from Loki’s lips again.

Hela eyes her and Loki, looking at them as though they’ve each grown another head as she takes in the confusion on their faces. “This morning’s pictures,” she says simply, shifting on her feet to settle a squirming Fenrir. “You know, the ones of him and… Peggy, is it? They’re coming out of what I assume is her prenatal appointment, hand in hand.” She scoffs. “I know everyone likes a happy ending, but for goodness’ sake, you just drove your team to a second consecutive loss and now you’re out frolicking with your ex without so much as an official statement?” Hela’s face twists with annoyance. “The optics, people!”

From her periphery, she catches the way Loki’s gaze shifts towards her, but she keeps her eyes on Hela as she shrugs. “I’m sure they have their reasons.”

“Just be glad he’s not your problem anymore,” Hela says before sighing. “Anyhow, Fenrir and I best get going.”

“Best idea you’ve had yet,” Loki says, eliciting a glare from Hela as he reaches for the doorknob.

“Oh, one last thing,” Hela says, peering over Loki’s shoulder as he lets out an exasperated sigh. “How long are you in town for?”

“I leave in two days,” she says.

“In that case, the League is having a charity event tonight. There’ll be drinks, dancing, an auction. Not to mention a parade of handsome lads.” Hela smiles. “I’d love to have you.”

“Seriously?” Loki says, “Natasha didn’t fly all the way here to-”

“Actually, that sounds great,” she interjects, ignoring the surprised expression that makes its way onto Loki’s face. “Thanks, Hela.”

“Brilliant, I’ll have them add you to the guest list,” Hela says, her smile faltering as she turns to Loki. “I suppose you’re welcome to attend as well, dear brother. Assuming, of course, you don’t wear… whatever it is you’re wearing right now.”

“As if people will have time to dissect my sartorial choices when your face will be there!” Loki says, watching as Hela, practically cackling, retreats down his driveway. With a huff, he pushes the door shut and turns back to her. “Have you gone mad?”

“Like you didn’t want to go,” she says, her statement an accusation more than anything else as she recalls how he’s been complaining about Hela withholding his invitation to this very event – the same one that’s slated to have every executive in the League in attendance. Before her, Loki feigns indignance for another beat before sighing in concession, making her scoff. “So, are you going to drive me to get a dress or what?”

Loki purses his lips, as if to ponder her question. “We’re stopping for scones first, right?”

“Obviously.”

#Romanogers #Game Plan #natrogers #preview #one night stand AU

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werdlewrites · 8 months

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masterlist - ao3 - kofi - twitter @ djomamma

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summary: “Honestly, ma’am, I-” “January 1967,” she cuts in, earning a wide-eyed stare from the stranger at her side. She meets him halfway, smiling at his look of surprise. “Yeah, I was there. You’re not the first person t’ask. Just the first one that wanted t’talk, rather than shut me up.” warnings: missing persons? smoking, mentions of blackmail kinda, gov conspiracy, somethin' fishy is goin' on here wc: 2,177

If lying was so wrong, why did it come so easily? An excuse made up, barely thought out before it flew off of his tongue. It’s believable, and no one takes a moment to question it. What would the Chief of Police, Jim Hopper, have to hide anyway? A man who served his community with a firm hand and brutal words of punishment or encouragement as young rebels found themselves in his office for the third time that week. If lying was a sin, he’d be drowning in misery as the mortal line is finally severed. “It’s better this way,” he tells himself. Take the hit and act as a shield to spare others from the painful truth. A truth not everyone is ready for. So the pile of secrets grows tall like a tower, swaying in the breeze and threatening to collapse at any moment. He knows it’ll bury him someday, and it’s worth it if it means protecting fragile hearts. It’s difficult to ignore as he waits in his car, feeling the shadow loom like a heavy cloud on him while the neighborhood shines bright. It was almost like a beacon to guide him here—just outside of Hawkins, where no one knew his name. He was just another man on a morning drive. Receiving pleasant waves from strangers as they walk their dog past him. No one asks, and no one seems to care—they are too engulfed in their own stories, actively being written out. Hopper catches himself watching every individual pass through his rearview, checking for suspicious behavior or if they cast a second look. They never do, and it’s freeing. He allows his mind to settle, redirecting focus to the quiet house just down the street. A single-story home painted in pristine white with accents of gray and wooden beams to support the gable. It’s a stark contrast to the photograph in his hands—clearly redone in the years since the news article had been printed. No longer abandoned, but instead thriving with life.

A station wagon is soon slowing to a crawl before the house, climbing the small hill in the driveway. The doors are quick to open, and smiles are seen on happy faces as they linger in an unheard joke. The young couple reach into the backseats to pluck twins from their car seats, both seeming to have just woken from a long nap. Together, they seek comfort in their home and bask in the warmth of a growing family. It’s what he expects, yet it's still gut-wrenching. In the thin silver lining of hope, he had envisioned an older pair wandering in their lonesome, forever looking for their lost girl. But it was clear they were long gone, and he was back to the start. With a heavy sigh and a photograph in hand, he slips from the car and studies nearby houses. Some are more modern, while others remain stuck in the past. It was his best bet. Even if he left with nothing, the path would have narrowed by some. He starts with the house just next to the family, a simple introduction, and a quick question to follow. “I hate t’be a bother,” he would say with a nervous chuckle. “But I-I’m uh, working on a case. I just wanted t’see if you knew anything about the house next door and its previous owners?” A look of suspicion lights up in their eyes before they give only disappointing answers, shutting the door between them. He goes door to door, finding no clues, and it’s wearing him thin. He’s wasting time, knowing the longer he’s gone, the more worried his coworkers will become.

A final attempt is made as he stands on the welcome mat of a cozy home. The door was painted a dull blue to welcome you in closer, with flowers and other foliage all well kept and glowing. Various clicks of undone locks are heard one after another, piquing his interest with a raised brow. The door is barely cracked, with brown eyes peering through, studying the stranger in silence before widening the entrance. “Can I help you?” It’s an older woman—somewhere in her sixties and hardly dressed for the day. Her pajamas peeked through a thick and hastily tied robe, her lips still wet from coffee. “I’m sorry t’disturb you, ma’am. I just have a question about—" He takes a pause, suddenly finding himself uneasy under her stern stare. “Your home.” “My home?” she questions, brows pulled tight together. “Y-yeah, uh, how long have you lived here?” Her head tilts, and he can feel the uneasiness radiating from the woman—the lack of trust is painfully obvious. Hopper digs for his badge and offers it out to her in haste, hoping to keep her from running away. “I’m workin’ a case,” he defends. The unnamed woman slumps against the threshold, arms now crossed, as she finally gives in. “Since 1958,” A spark of warmth ignites in his chest, and he feels almost sickened by the race of his heart. “D’you know anything about a missing family? It would have been after you moved in. Just, uh, just down there.” Brown eyes follow after his pointed finger, and he doesn’t miss the way her arms tighten. Shoulders are now scrunched together, and lips are held in a thin line. “Nope.” It was a popular answer. No one seemed to know or care, despite singing their praises in reports. Well thought of and vanishing without any warning. Without hesitation, the Polaroid waits out in the open between two fingers, and she observes in silence. “Nothin’ comin’ t’mind?”

This time, there’s no response provided. Her stare lingers on their faces, and even after it’s been tucked away, she remains in their grip. The officer's posture sags with defeat, his heart slowing to a steady rhythm as the fire sizzles out into nothing. “Thank you for your time, ma’am,” he states with a nod of his head, already tracing over his steps to stand in the sunlight once again. By the time he’s halfway down the curved path, his hand wiping across frustrated features, she calls out. She stands where he was once, practically squirming in her skin with lips parting to speak yet unable to find the right words. “Y’look, uh, y’look like you could use a cup of coffee. Big mornin’ for you. Working a missing persons case, and all.” A heavy sigh meets his lips as he stands with hands purchased on tilted hips, pushing through the heartbreak to appear confident and stable. “I’m fine, thank you. I should really-” “I can get you a fresh cup. You could sit and relax for a few minutes.” “Ma’am, I really-” “I was just about t’do some gardening,” she interrupts with a step forward. “You could sit in the back with me.” The man remains frozen. Words have failed him, and the aggravation was building to a powerful force against someone who didn’t deserve it. She was just a lonely woman looking for someone to talk to. He’s seen it all before—until the atmosphere takes a sudden shift. “Really, officer. I insist.” Dark eyes flicker towards the siding of her home, where a tall, white fence awaits, guarding her plants. It’s suspicious—enough to shut him up—and he nodded in acceptance at her offer. She seems satisfied, nearly relieved, as she instructs him to wait at the gate before slipping into the shadows of her home.

The wait is painful yet short-lasting. Picturing the woman frantically moving through her home just to meet him on the other side, chest heavy from a hidden burden she so clearly wanted to be free of. Whatever it was, he was willing to listen. She seems breathless at the gate, offering out a mug of fresh coffee like she promised before letting him slip inside. In the distance, he can hear her muttering, “The neighbors will love this.” He says nothing just yet, watching as she flits around her yard, continuing to mumble nonsense to herself. “Everything o-?” The man is cut short as she holds a single finger to tightly sealed lips, waiting impatiently for him to take the hint, and he does so with concern in his stare. She shuffles off towards a few stacked basins, purposeful details cut away, allowing running water to spill freely on an endless loop. That, paired with the high-pitched ting from dancing windchimes, is enough to settle her rattled nerves, and she sighs out, “There we are.” Her robe has come undone in the haste, seeming less put together as she takes a seat just near a small table. An ashtray rests at the center, just next to a pack of cigarettes. Her fingers are quick to snatch it up and stick one just between her lips. “You going t’just stand there, or what?” Her eyes dart towards the empty seat just on the other side, and he caves with reluctance. This change in her had struck his interest. The coffee remains untouched, hands falling to rest between parted knees while he drinks in the dying garden. There’s beauty, still. But winter weather comes fast, claiming vibrance and turning all too dull green. “Honestly, ma’am, I-” “January 1967,” she cuts in, earning a wide-eyed stare from the stranger at her side. She meets him halfway, smiling at his look of surprise. “Yeah, I was there. You’re not the first person t’ask. Just the first one that wanted t’talk, rather than shut me up.” She takes a long drag from her cigarette, eyes cast out at nothing in particular. “So, you lied?” “T’cover my ass, yeah. You would too if all you had was on the line.” The ash is flicked away, her stature seeming more relaxed than it had been only moments ago—finding some trust in the man from out of town.

“You were threatened?” he asks, watching as her lips form a faint smile. “Threatened, paid—anything t’keep my mouth shut.” It’s all too familiar—now understanding why they were outdoors, suffering mother nature's wrath instead of warm in the comfort of her home. The woman’s sanctuary may have been under surveillance the same way his had been or still is. “What can you tell me?” A look of disbelief falls on him, unimpressed by his bravery as he marches out into the unknown. “Why are you working a case from the sixties? That’s over and done with.” Chilled hands rub together as a strong gust sweeps through, goosebumps quickly trailing along his skin. “Personal interest,” he offered. He can’t tell if she buys it, but it captures her interest, and the once-dusty book from the past begins to unfold. “Not much I can tell you. No one knows what happened."“But you knew of them, right? Who they were?” “Everyone did,” she answers with a short laugh. You could almost see her mind flipping through the pages, reliving an old life. “Got along well with everyone. Made enough of an impression for people t’worry.” She’s taken notice of his mug; coffee is still at the brim. The woman doesn’t hesitate before stealing it away, letting it drown out the taste of tobacco on her tongue. “Pretty private, though. Always the guests and never the hosts. I assumed it was related t’their…’disappearance.’” She ends with quotes. “You don’t think they ran off?” “Oh,” her answer is strained, holding the smoke hostage in her lungs before it spills out in a flood. “I think someone made them run. Random cars showing up, parked right outside their house. Men in suits at their front door every other night,” she scoffs, finally stamping out the lit end in the glass tray. “Real spooky shit.”

Together, they sit in silence. Her mind retells every encounter crystal clear, like it had only been yesterday. Hopper could only conjure up possibilities, attempting to recreate the scenes of a man storming across the yard to scream at unwelcome visitors. “They were new parents. Just barely adjusting t’life before they went missing. Poor thing was only a month old. I hate t’even think about what could have happened.” The puzzle is becoming more complete with every confession she gives, yet it’s still hard to make out. Like it’s been pieced together in the dark, squinting to find the fine lines of a story. “What was the kid's name?” The woman doesn’t answer right away, lips pursed in thought, before hushed words dance through the November air. So soft, it gives chills worse than the cold winds to kiss his cheeks.

“Nature’s first green is gold. Her hardest hue to hold. Her early leaf’s a flower, but only so an hour. Then leaf subsides to leaf. So Eden sank to grief, so dawn goes down to day. Nothing gold can stay.” The poetry grips at her heart more than she anticipated, her eyes now sorrowful as she hears an old friend's voice recite lovely words from a book. “It was Lynn’s favorite Robert Frost poem. Said she would name her kid after it, whatever that means.”

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buddieisgoingcanon2024 · 5 months

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I posted this before, but I think that R knew that the relationship was over after that Vegas date in 2022. Who invites a couple - that doesn't live in Vegas - on a romantic evening unless one or both partners realize that the relationship isn't working anymore? He totally stopped posting her and interacting with her right after that. Plus, she was relentlessly trying to get his attention a lot before the infamous V-Day post with throwback pics that many were confused about what was going on.

The V-Day post was pretty bad for them, they usually didn't come right out and say there were problems. She clearly stated that he was becoming someone she didn't recognize or love and he called her a nightmare. Everything pretty much went off the rails after that with R deleting pretty much everything of her on his Insta, while she went all in on that dog that seems to be nowhere to be found (btw where are all the dogs, especially the two she most recently adopted?).

That Hello article was eye-opening, but what happened the night before is when everyone realized this wasn't just a small fight. She deleted him from her Insta and blocked him. They did have this small little moment a couple of weeks before the article stating they were a family always, which makes me think this is when R let her know he was officially leaving and got the ball rolling on their separation (still don't believe they were ever married because they never celebrated that day after the “ceremony”). I have changed my mind on the article drop so many times, but I now think this was a shot at C because she was stalling about making concessions about money and/or house. Look at how long it took to finally get her out.

I do wonder if the fake reconciliation and his showing up to her events (and taking her on a trip) was a compromise to get her out of his house, set up her new place, and finalize everything. I truly believe that they were not living together for almost all of 2023 and used her new place (R’s place that he kept for his art) when they were not staying at the house with the kids.

I also believe that C tried to use the Europe trip as a reconciliation, but R was not having it. All her posts were to prove something, but R was putting in next to no effort. If you can find her birthday pics, look at his face, he doesn't want to be around her (he definitely gained weight during the strike and think it is because of this shit she was putting him through about the separation). So much of their interactions were for her to put up a front for her friend’s wedding at the end of September. She is not someone with the confidence to show up to that type of event alone. During this time, he barely acknowledged her but started putting on a better front after people were questioning it and calling it out. Let's remember that they never kissed during this “reconciliation” and they never had a problem with PDA when things were good or when they were willing to put on a show.

I am also of the belief that the screenshot - whether his (I also think his circle knows if he is bi and C has been subtly hating on the LGBTQ community for a while now) or someone close to him - was intentional because she was stalling again or thought they were trying again. I have seen theories that some think she left him over this, but I think that is far from the truth. I truly believe she would still be with him if she could.

C continues to play the victim to this day on her unfiltered account. She used to keep that away from her main but has thrown shots at R about leaving in the fall, etc. I definitely think she is doing the revenge body to prove a point, but I don't think she gets why R left her.

Thanks anon for this explicit and put together answer. I loved reading it.

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div1nity · 6 months

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CYBERPUNK 77 HEADCANONS ! this was meant to be just basic lil things but turned into writing the whole verse just lazily &. in bullet point form oop :( .

physical profile : shoulder length brown hair , heterochromia - left blue eye is real , right eye is a brown cybernetic . visable cybernetics include : neck , both cheeks , visable line across nose , two down chin ( idk face is very much the first photo ) / fashion , studies , musings can all be found on the pinterest board .

it's essentially a the watch dogs verse , though with slight changes of which tech companies &. the big bads in charge , all that shit . coraline was active in 2013 &. was a typical hacker , being a thorn in arasaka's side from day one . it was a slow progress , it wasn't just them she went after &. honed her skills &. became better , stronger in her abilities to be able to go after the mroe elite companies .

as the years go on , she has thousands of expose pieces under her belt . . . which is exactly the problem . she puts so much effort into her work , what she does all for it to mean nothing in the end . she can't do shit if the people wont work with her - restlessness settles in , she begins to hate so violently , she wants justice - wants the world to be better , she knows it can be if people just woke the fuck up . year after year , nothing ever changes - falling into the trap of ' fine , i'll do it myself ' &. picking targets to go after , leaking their sins online before putting a bullet in their head . . . it depended on the day how unhinged the scene would be left behind .

coraline has travelled world wide for her work , never staying in the states - there have been several million news articles about ' LETHALBLUE ' across countries &. continents .

for a long time , she refused to get cybernetics - coraline has body issues in the sense of not feeling connected to herself , disassoation can be a real bitch &. at times it can become self destructive . having cybernetics meant there was nothing stopping her slamming a knife into her arm &. plucking out an eyeball . it was also an act of rebellion , she didn't need hardware to do her job , didn't need to give in to be good - she like feeling human , grounded , it gave her a touch of the past .

but in a world where tech was ever evolving &. the human body was getting left behind . . . it became impossible . especially after one job that went completely sideways , after taking down a commanding officer in the japanese army who was looking to make robots a norm on the battlefield - the whole place went into shut down , forcing coraline to stay underground for a few weeks , cramped in an abandoned subway station . i lowkey headcanon the only reason she got out is because of rogue ( coraline doesn't have friends but idkidk i can see them having a weird relationship based on intense mutual respect &. having slight history because they knew each other back in the day :( )

it was a CLOSE CALL , it was the first time coraline has ever been worried . she went to a ripperdoc that she's worked closely with for years - stealing tec for him in return for info , on the current area , on clients - his name is droid &. he's fucking crazy , but he's an artist &. good at his work &. wouldn't trust anyone with her body other than him .

she goes mia for a long while , people presuming her to be dead . though in this time , she's getting used to new hardwear , replacing , testing it out . focusing her attention on BDE production in nightcity - she fucking HATES the way sex is handled in the 'new world' &. tbqh it makesher sick to her stomach , especially as someone who used to be an independent sex worker before giving it up completely to focus on vigilantism .

the point is she loves humanity while fucking hating it at the same time , she's slowly driving herself insane putting the worlds problems on her shoulders - she doesn't shy away from her immortality in this verse , actively saying ' you're not going to be around to see how this ends , i am ' &. people mistake it for delusions of grandeur , but its truth .

#v: cp | to be decided.#cora in this verse is just violently vibrating and wants to rip apart everyone and everything while still trying to /help/#im so :(#AUGH #THIS IS NOT AT ALL PROOF READ BTW BE WARNED SIOFHSIF

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ghostsbrokenbyfairytales · 1 year

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This can't be happening...

tw: death mention mention of lincoln @endlessreruns and zoë @ambercast

luke always read the paper, especially as school started nearing it was his way of keeping up with ‘town gossip’ so he could understand what his students were talking about most days. that and he just genuinely enjoyed reading the articles that were written since it gave him something to do while drinking his morning coffee.

the memorial section was never an easy read, some names were familiar and some faces were too but todays quick glance at that section made him stop in his tracks and almost drop his mug.

was he dreaming? he had to have been. there was no way that was real when they’d just made plans to see each other again tomorrow. luke was finally gaining enough courage to potentially tell lincoln how he felt about the man or at least hint at it.

lady noticed something was wrong almost immediately, she’d become essentially his therapy dog since the storm first showed up and she got good at recognizing when luke needed her and right now was one of those moments. she was nudging his leg with his head trying to trick him into putting the paper down to pet her but his eyes were glued to the page. he didn’t want to believe it was true, he had to know if this was some sick joke that someone at the paper decided to pull or if he was about to never see his best friend ever again.

he headed for the commune, the place he knew he’d get his answer and purposely left lady at home so she couldn’t make him wonder anywhere else in town. luke knew the rules, he would visit lincoln at his workshop a handful of times until the murders started happening and the rules became more strict. usually with food in hand ready to make sure the man was actually eating instead of burying himself in whatever project he had at that time.

that’s why when he arrived at the commune he started by knocking on the door and asking for sunflower, mentioning he wanted to ask about lincoln. that’s when she told him, in a more private setting of course and confirmed that lincoln had in fact passed away. luke didn’t know what to say, all he could give was a quick thanks and he was gone just as fast as he’d arrived.

he felt breathless but in the worst way possible, like he’d just been told the most earth shattering news and for him it was. except he wasn’t showing it. his face was blank, emotionless… in a way he looked calm. he didn’t feel calm though, on the inside he felt like he could scream or cry. luke wasn’t sure where his feet were taking him but it sure wasn’t back home.

the house was familiar, not super but just enough to remember the last he was here. it was after a date with zoë, one where he walked her home to make sure she’d gotten home safe and before dusk. knocking on her door he waited for an answer to see if she’d even open it and when she did all he could do was look at her in silence for a few seconds.

luke knew this was wrong, he’d be using her and while he wanted to hate himself for this he couldn’t bring himself to care. he wanted to forget so when he finally spoke all he asked was, “can we do-over?”

she agreed. whatever her reasoning was he didn’t need to know just how she didn’t need to know his and he didn’t go inside until he was invited, closing the door behind him. the rest would be kept between the two of them and the four walls of her bedroom until the next time he’d needed a distraction from the pain.

#luke | musing #tw death mention

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coffeeheartaddict2 · 2 years

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This life (9/13) No Escape

Book: Open Heart (book 1)

Pairing: Ethan Ramsey x Casey Valentine

Warnings: ****trigger warning- this series deals with issues of abandonment and addiction- reader discretion advised****

Language, sexual references, mentions of characters deaths, punch thrown

Rating: 18+

Summary: A trip to Providence gives Ethan a different perspective and a plan in the background, a realization gives another dynamic change and the fallout. Louise’s past finally catches up with her and a news article she sees gives her the courage to reach out.

Disclaimer: Characters, dialogue (actual and paraphrased) belong to Pixelberry.

💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔

It was the morning after he spectacularly quit from Edenbrook, the place where he had given a decade of his life only to have it all come crashing down. The face of a distraught Casey haunting him all night. He felt bad that she had become collateral damage in his fall from grace but he had let her in and when he let people in it always ends badly. He had a shower and packed a bag. He went via Naveen’s lakehouse, he saw him sitting on the deck reading a book. He was relieved about that. He then left. He knew he needed to get out of Boston but had no idea where. He was on autopilot so he was not surprised that he pulled up at the place where his pain started, his childhood home.

Alan was not home, Ethan surmised that he must be at work. He let himself in and was greeted by Jenner. He took him for a walk. His old neighbourhood was a far cry from the Boston Waterfront and even though it looked the same, everything had changed and it was where everything changed for him that fateful august day 25 years ago. Jenner enjoyed his walk and Ethan decided to make a start on dinner.

Alan turned into his street after a shift. He had to look twice as he approached his house. Ethan’s car was not what he was expecting to see. He was always happy to see his son and it had been awhile but he knew he was busy. He pulled up and entered the house. He was greeted by dinner being cooked.

“Don’t get me wrong Ethan, I am happy to see you, but what are you doing here?”

“Can’t I just come and visit my dad and my dog?” Ethan retorted. Alan was taken aback, he had not seen Ethan this upset and dejected since the falling out with Tobias.

“Of course you can Ethan, not what I meant, I am

Happy to see you but also surprised.” Said Alan. “You never come down mid week unless it is a holiday so what is wrong?”

Ethan took a breath to compose himself but to no avail. He started to cry.

“Naveen is dying, my good friend Delores died and Casey, who has been helping me with Naveen I don’t think I can help, especially with raising suspicions of anything untoward happening between us even though it has not.

Alan was shocked. He knew of his disdain for interns generally and he was surprised that there had been one that he had spoken somewhat fondly about but to see his son in his kitchen devastated and broken partly because of her was a shock. Alan had to ask if his feelings for Casey were more than professional.

“Of course they are dad, I do not know if it is love but certainly more than what I should be feeling.”

Alan does not know what to say. He had never had too many girlfriends and he certainly never suspected that Ethan thought it maybe love with any of them. It was moments like this that he missed Louise. He and Ethan were also closer and also offering a female perspective that he could not. All Alan could do was state you will figure something out. Alan was also saddened about Naveen. He knew that Ethan looked upto Naveen but also Naveen was a father figure that Alan wished he could be but was not. The resentment from Alan was brief. Alan knew that he would go on to do great things and was glad there was someone there to push him in the way he could not bring himself to do.

Ethan went to bed after dinner he was exhausted, the troubled and lack of sleep catching up with him. He is awoken by his phone. It is Harper. He answers it.

“Hello Ethan, I am glad you answered. I was calling to make sure you are ok.” Said Harper.

“I am not ok Harper. I need time to figure some stuff out. I am safe though, I am in Providence with dad.” Replied Ethan.

“Glad to know you are safe Ethan…”

“How is the investigation going against case…I mean Dr Valentine” asksEthan, hoping her association with him has not tarnished her. Harper sighs before continuing.

“I know you have maintained that you have not favoured Dr Valentine in anyway Ethan but that slip of the tongue was telling. I am glad you are well Ethan”. The call ends.

The next day he calls Harper. He feels like he is in a slightly better head space and wants to talk about his quitting and getting all of his paperwork finalised. He is informed that Casey has requested an Ethics hearing. Ethan does not hesitate in asking if he can testify for her.

“Absolutely not Ethan. The hospital has been awash with rumours of something going on for awhile now. I have seen some interactions that give some of the rumours creedance. You getting up there and testifying is only going to add fuel to the fire.”

“I can be impartial Harper, you know it, I know it.”

“The answer is no Ethan. End of discussion.”

Ethan hangs up in frustration, the original reason forgotten. Despite Harper telling him he can not testify, he feels he has to do something. He knows that Casey will be hard pushed for a fair hearing. He thinks to the email he received from Teresa when she made it to Paris, how happy she was to have made it there. All of which was made possible by Casey. She did not give up when others did. He also had the contact details for Luis. He sent the following email.

To Luis

My name is Ethan Ramsey. I was one of the many doctors who got to know your mother, Teresa. We were all saddened by her passing. As you know she embarked on a journey she had been wanting to take her whole life. Enclosed is a picture she sent us of her at the Sacre Couer . As you know she wanted more than anything to go there. I know she passed away but shouldn’t we be glad that she got to go on her own terms. As you know she did resent the treatment for Rhodes Disease. Being couped up in hospital all that time. The doctor who gave Teresa the drug did give her the chances and risks and Teresa s chose to go ahead with it. She was doing what it took to give your mum quality as well as maintaining quantity. Sadly there was no quantity but surely the quality of what she did have is worth it. If you have any further questions please feel free to contact me.

Regards

Ethan Ramsey.

Next he contacted Alma, he knew that she was appreciative for what Casey did for Delores and baby Ethan. Alma was thankfully willing and able. I hoped it would help her but I was still feeling like a poison chalice so I did not hold out too much hope. I head back to Boston again via the lake house. Naveen is still alive.

I have been back a day and a half. I am again wallowing. My mind turns to Casey, hoping that she will get a fair hearing, how I wish I could do more to help her. I receive a message from Casey wanting to talk. I ask her to come here, I do not like texting. About 30mins later she arrives at my door. I make comments about joining a cult, even though all I want to do is rip her dress off and take her where she stands. I offer her a scotch. She takes it. The question I dread comes.

“Will you testify for me at the Ethics hearing.”

I tell her I can’t. That I am too damn biased. In that moment I know Harper is right no matter how hard I tried to deny it. She tells me she came to learn from the best, to learn from me and I tell her this is me. She reminds me that I taught her to never give up and that is what she is doing. I tell her that I no longer work there and in all reality she will not be for much longer. A realization dawns on me and I can see Casey coming to the same realization. I do not know who moved first but when out lips hungrily meet again, all I wish I did at Miami come flooding back. I carry her to my room. Our lips only separating to get her dress off. She asks to show me the view from the windows. I oblige but Casey in her underwear is at that moment a better view. I stand behind her, kissing her neck. I then start to caress her breast. It is as beautiful as I remember it. A rush of carnal hunger washes over me. I turn her around, fall down to my knees and worship her the way she should be. Reality is no comparison to what my imagination had conjured. Watching Casey succumb to her climax was exhilarating. Casey gets me out of the rest of my clothing whilst we make our way to my bed. She says she does not want to forget this night and I said neither will I. I kiss her, pouring all my emotion into it as I slowly enter her. She feels even better than what I imagined. I start off slow, wanting to savour and enjoy Casey. This is more than just sex for me. I quicken my pace and and she starts to clench. I moan as a kiss my way down to her breasts. Casey’s moans get loader, bordering on screaming. She moans my name and tries to get out how close I know she is. I assure her that I have her. She falls, her climax triggering mine. In my wildest dreams I could not have imagined a more perfect time together. Over the course of the evening we go another two rounds. I fall into an exhausted but satisfied sleep.

I am awoken the next afternoon by Casey. Telling me she has figured it out. In my hangover induced confusion I ask her what. She tells me it is Naveen. She runs through her methodology and I agree with her conclusions. She tells me that need to do phage therapy and have what is making Naveen unwell. I get up but the room spins. Casey goes to make her hangover cure. It is disgusting but it does the job. She kisses me, telling me it is for luck. I tell her I am going to need more luck before I kiss her again. The only thing stopping me from going further is the fact Naveen needs saving. We get the therapy made. On the way to Naveen’s lake house I can not help but be proud of her. She had not given up when I had. We arrive at Naveen’s. He is still alive and I administer the phage therapy. The scrawny intern is there. The only thing stopping me from ripping him to shreds is that he helped Casey with Naveen. He says he is leaving to go to Kenmore. I said I would give him a satisfactory reference. Casey leaves with him. She wants to stay but she has a trial to prepare for. She asks me if I will attend and I will be there if she wants me too. I state that I will be.

Trial day arrives and the suit Casey chose is very distracting. I stay up the back. Alma is there ready to testify. My biggest card is Luis Martinez. I have not heard back from him. Surprisingly so far Casey is holding her own. She has picked patients well. She also has Dr Yannick, Dr Calais and Dr Myles come in and speak in support of Casey. Now the country club is making sense. Then Luis comes. Walks up to Casey and hugs are and announces that he is dropping the lawsuit. I breathe a sigh of relief. Then the door opens. It is Naveen. The panel are of course shocked. Naveen then goes on to explain what was happening and how Casey gave up her time preparing for the trial in solving his case. He calls for a vote. It ends up being unanimous in Casey’s favour. In that moment I never felt more wrong about anything. Naveen was saved, my work in the background I think helped and Casey still had a career. I slowly make my way down to congratulate her. She then punched Declan Nash. I shouldn’t but I do feel proud of her especially if some of that punch was for Mrs Martinez. I let her go with her friends. I make my way to Naveen and he is regaling Harper about how I was treating him. He requested there be no action taken. I am relieved to hear this. I chat to Alma and I am glad to hear that baby Ethan is going well. Finally I get to see Harper. I know there is stuff from my quitting that needs finalization but instead of that I am offered my job back. There is no mention of if the competition is still running. I go through all the paperwork. I finally make my way to Donahue’s. I am met by Casey who proposes that we head to her place before we return to our roles. I am saddened but agree with the reasoning. We have a night filled with passion and tenderness and it is then that I know I can not go back to a pre-Miami footing with her. It is then I decide to put an expression of interest to go down to Brazil. I end up staying and we are busted by two of her friends. We are eventually back at work for announcements. Harper is stepping down as chief and instills Naveen. Then the kicker, Casey is awarded the Junior fellowship on the team. On one level I am proud but the rest of me is in a panic. All I know is that if I continue a romantic relationship her achievements would be tarnished by the rumour mill. I say that we sort this out but I have no idea how. The day goes on and the week. I note that Casey is only talking to me on work related matters which I am thankful for as I have no answers. I then get the email I am hoping for. I am wanted on the Amazon team. I make a meeting with Naveen. He questions my intent and I could not hide the ulterior motive. He asks me to tell Casey but I can’t. The hospital is not safe and I do not want to do so at Derry’s.

That left her coming to mine and I know that if I tell her at mine it would lead to her convincing not too and given how I think I feel I know she could be successful. So I decided to be a coward. The morning I fly out I am torn. I realize that I am no better than the woman that abandoned me all those years ago. Whilst waiting to board at Logan I text that I am

sorry but did not say what for. What they had started to build meant a lot to him but he could not have that ruin her. As much as it was going to hurt I needed to rid myself of the feelings he had in order to be the mentor I needed to be.

I hit the ground running work wise but the evening after dinner is my downfall. My mind shifting between the nights we were intimate and the rest haunted by the hurt that I know I have caused. After a week I know the plan is futile. I pen letters that I know will never be sent. In a way I am dreading going back. I doubt that Casey would want to give me the time of day when I return but it is the medicine I have to take. I take solace in that I am returning to her in some way. The knowing that I am acting just like the one person I never wanted to be like haunting me. Various media outlets are with us too, sharing the work that the team is doing. I begrudgingly do my part but I am there to work.

Two months fly by. It is time to face the music of my cowardice. I hear her friends before I see them then I see Casey. I make my way over, calling her rookie. She tells me she is not one anymore as she is now officially a second year. I tell her it was a force of habit whilst I am internally chastising myself for calling her something so familiar. She stays back after last call which surprises me. She tells me why I did not contact her. I tell her we were in the depths of the Amazon. I then tell her we needed to reset and that is why I went. I do badly wanted to kiss her but I could not. How I don’t return her kiss surprises me. I tell her it is not a matter of want, because I do but I can’t. I can tell she is angry at me but I know in that moment that I will be struggling to keep those feelings buried.

Whilst in the Amazon Louise sees a news article in a waiting room of a community clinic in Southy. She reads it and takes a double take at a photo she sees. It may have been nearly 26 ago but she knew that was Ethan. She knew he would go on to do great things in life but in her wildest dreams did not think he would be a leading doctor helping those less fortunate. Louise’s addictions were starting to take a serious toll on her health. She was only 59 but most days she felt so much older. She was seeking treatment for an infection which she was able to get but she knew she could not keep this up forever. Rehab was not an option due to the cost. She did not know how much time she had left on this earth but she knew she needed to apologise to Ethan for the harm she caused him. She decided though to reach out to Alan. It took her a week to get the courage to make the call. She calls the number that she is surprised she remembered.

“Hello, you have reached Alan Ramsey” said Alan as he answered.

“Hello Alan. It is Louise”

Alan is shocked and did not know what to say.

Louise then said.

“I want to contact Ethan, can you help me?”

Alan was shocked. He had hoped this day would come but as time went on the hope got smaller.

“I need to think on this Louise, it is a shock. Can I call you another time?”

Louise gives Alan her number and hangs up.

Alan is shocked, he always suspected that if Louise ever called it would be to speak with Ethan but did he have the right to give his details out. He thought the best case would be to get more information and pass onto Ethan and let him decide but he was troubled too, nearly 26 years had passed and he could not help but be suspicious of any intent.

Louise is surprised that Alan took her call but was relieved that he wanted to have a think about getting her in contact with Ethan. While she waited she took another hit hoping it will dull the pain of the thoughts in her head.

Authors note : well this seemed to get long but I had alot yo cover and some that I have done in various fics as well so I was straddling thr line of repeating myself but meaningful to this story.

Coming chapters we will see more of Alan and Louise so fair warning there and as stated before when we get to post attack we will be following my timeline.

Tagging: @jerzwriter @jamespotterthefirst @potionsprefect @liaromancewriter @tessa-liam @cariantha @genevievemd @binny1985 @schnitzelbutterfingers @ofmischiefandmedicine @crazy-loca-blog @a-crepusculo @bex-la-get @lucy-268

@choicesficwriterscreations @openheartfanfics

#open heart #ethan ramsey #choices fanfic writers creations #casey valentine #Louise Ramsey #Alan Ramsey #Naveen Banerji #this life #fotw

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jodilin65 · 4 months

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Today I am not as energetic as yesterday. I'm not sure why since I slept 7.5 hours and got a good sleep score. I did wake up a little more so maybe that's why. Overall, however, it does seem like the new bed could be helping because in the month that I've had it, I've had 8 tired days not counting the time the storm woke me up and then when the power went out. I normally have about 12 to 15 tired days within a 30-day period. So unless I'm just having a good month, it could be helping.

Today I'm going to be making stuffed mushrooms for the first time. I'm going to mix spinach and cheese in olive oil with bread crumbs. I'm also going to make us burgers when he gets up. Doubt I'll get around to trying the fried banana recipe today. I got some rainbow trout but I don't know if I'll have that today either.

My insurance company kept their word and I got my $100 Visa card for letting the nurse come to the house.

Went from Orchard Park to West Seneca, New York.

Irma was nice enough to surprise me with a message asking how Ray was doing and how my health was. I was wondering if anyone was ever going to take the time to reach out to me first and not message me only because I messaged them. She's probably more curious about what Ray's been up to than my health but that's okay. I told her he left in the middle of the month but probably isn't going to put palm trees in the middle of his boring yard because it would prevent visitors from parking on the gravel alongside the driveway. I also told her that my health is good as far as I know although I do still struggle with fatigue.

Just being prediabetic can cause fatigue. I really hope to hell I never end up diabetic but if I do, maybe it will motivate me to eat healthier as it did with Andy. I eat healthier more than I don't but I still have too much sugar at times. Even skinny athletes can become diabetic, though. Genetics is a big factor and it definitely runs in my family.

I still have that cramp in my lower right stomach. When you don't have a gallbladder the bile is dumped directly into the liver and I think that could be what I'm feeling although I don't know why it would take a whole year after having surgery. I did read that some liver conditions, including cancer, can cause pain to come and go but I just can't see it being that. Lab work is scheduled for the 31st so I'll find out soon.

Read an interesting article on the link between violent nightmares and the onset of autoimmune diseases. I've always had nightmares on and off but I definitely had a ton of violent nightmares when we were in Jesse's trailer around the time I suspect my thyroid crapped out on me. I attributed most of them to my psychic side warning me of trouble ahead which there certainly was due to the recession. Maybe there was more to it, though.

I wouldn't call them nightmares, but I did have some unsettling dreams last night. In one, I witnessed a murder and pretended I hadn't seen anything. Although the details are hazy, it seemed like I had a couple of roommates who were killed by intruders, leaving me unharmed for some reason. Acting oblivious, the killers insisted I travel with them to the northeast, promising to let me return afterward. We made the trip, and I hoped they would keep their word and let me go.

In the last dream, we lived in a typical neighborhood but you could still only have no more than two dogs per household. We had a one-story house, but next door was a large, old two-story house. I had wandered through it when it was vacant, so I knew what it looked like inside. A large Black family moved in, and while they seemed nice enough when we met, I was still worried they might be noisy.

One day, I peeked through the stockade fence surrounding their backyard and was shocked to see at least eight adult golden retrievers and twice as many puppies. When the woman living there found out I knew about the dogs, she seemed worried and told me to ignore it. I assured her it was no problem as long as they didn't bark, although I secretly intended to report them.

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hahahahahangst · 1 year

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Angeleyes (Be The Young 42)

TW: [suicidal thoughts, self h*rm, violence] Other tags: [sister fic, canon-level violence, angst] All chapter titles are song titles, some of them translated from Italian songs. We start from the first season and make out way through the series. I will occasionally break canon✨ .

Summary: Emily Reed, born and raised in Portland, is preparing her admission papers for Stanford, medical school. One night, a fire erupts in her house. All that is left is a letter and a name: John Winchester.

"After reading this whole letter, call John Winchester. [...] He’s your real father."

MASTERLIST

Angeleyes

Sometimes when I'm lonely, I sit and think about him And it hurts to remember all the good times When I thought I could never live without him

“It has to be code, right? There’s no way somebody built a castle on top of a hill of dogs.” Commented Dean, distractingly scrolling on Emily’s laptop as she stood behind him. They had met Becky, who gave them a message from Chuck on a possible weapon that could kill Lucifer.

“Good one, Sherlock.” She commented, sarcastic. “Give me that, okay?” She took back her computer and pushed Dean out of his chair. “By the way, Sam, I love your new girlfriend. Doesn’t give me the same weird vibes as Ruby did.” She said it without even looking up from the screen. Dean reluctantly moved to the chair in front of Emily and exchanged a quick look with Sam.

“Ruby was never- she wasn’t my girlfriend and Becky isn’t either!” Lamented Sam.

“Sure, kid. Whatever makes you sleep at night.” Emily kept browsing as Sam stared at her, his eyebrows raised. She quickly lifted her eyes above her screen and saw Dean, bent on a book, trying to hide a laugh.

When Bobby arrived, he did it with the unmistakable sound of the Impala. Shortly after the sound of the car, was the sound of someone knocking on the door. Bobby entered the room.

“You weren’t followed, were you?” Asked Emily, closing the door. She hugged the man. //what

“You mean by angels, demons, or Sam's new superfan?” He smiled.

Emily went to sit on the couch with her laptop, trying to get as much info on Micheal as she could before they left. Bobby opened up a book and explained who Micheal was. Emily didn’t pay too much attention, completely wrapped up in her research. A few minutes later, Bobby handed her a book that she placed on the floor next to her, waiting to finish the article she had been reading. Her attention was brought by Sam standing next to a pile of books, just staring at them.

“Kid? You all right?” Asked Bobby, preceding Emily.

Sam turned around to face him. Emily knew what was about to happen: Sam was going to try and apologize again. She had been feeling most of Sam’s guilt for the previous hours, slowly radiating in the back of her brain like a never ending elevator song.

However, Emily was sure Bobby would not have reacted like she did or like Dean did, so she didn’t have much to worry about. He was going to be understanding.

Right?

Emily lifted her eyes off the screen to look for Dean, who was trying to stop Sam.

“Sam, stop it.”

“Lilith did not break the final seal. Lilith was the final seal.” Confessed Sam. Emily exhaled and rolled her eyes. She looked at Bobby. “You guys warned me about Ruby, the demon blood, but I didn't listen. I brought this on.”

Dean turned around, disappointed, as Bobby walked closer to Sam.

“You're damn right you didn't listen. You were reckless, selfish and arrogant.” Said the man. Sam tried to apologize again, but Bobby wasn’t having it. “Oh, yeah? You're sorry you started Armageddon?” Emily closed her laptop, surprised by the man’s reaction. “This kind of thing don't get forgiven, boy. If, by some miracle, we pull this off...I want you to lose my number. You understand me?” Sam nodded, but he didn’t look more bothered than before. Emily focused on Sam’s figure and on his feelings. She had not done it in a while, trying to contain them in a corner of her brain, where they mostly went unnoticed unless he was feeling something very intense. He wasn’t only feeling guilty anymore. She could not distinguish it clearly, in the whole mess that Sam’s thoughts were, but she was almost sure it was sadness.

“There's an old church nearby. Maybe I'll go read some of the lore books there.” He said, grabbing his backpack. She watched him leave the room and the second he turned the corner, her mind was flushed with just sadness. As Sam walked more and more far away, however, his feelings disappeared from Emily’s mind, finally leaving her alone with her own thoughts.

Dean caught her staring at the still open door. “You know, Emily, why don’t you go check if he’s okay?” He said. Emily was raised from her trance and scoffed. “You really gonna pretend like you’re not worried?”

“Worried?” Emily repeated. “Try furious.”

He nodded towards the door. “I don’t buy it. I know you, kid.”

“Shut up.” She mumbled.

“Emily, just go.” He sighed. “The Miracle girls need each other.”

Rolling her eyes, Emily stood up and put in her bag her laptop and the book. One of the things she hated the most about her and Dean somehow getting along was how she could not hide anything from him anymore. She could try, but he usually caught up very soon.

Reluctantly, she said goodbye and left the room. Sam was not too far away, Emily could still see him at the end of the street. She jogged to him. “Hey.” She said.

Sam turned towards her, surprised. “Wh-”

“Dean forced me, don’t let it get to your head.”

Sam exhaled and shook his head. “Right.” He whispered. They walked in silence towards the church and then sat in the small library.

Sam started taking notes from a book, writing on a piece of paper. Emily did the same, but she used her laptop as a shield between her and her brother.

Emily, can we- Asked Sam, using telepathy for the first time since they were helping Anna. He closed his book.

“No.” Emily said, cutting him short. A little cloud of dust flew out of Sam’s book and settled back on the table. “We need to do research.”

“Why did you come here if you’re not even going to talk to me?”

“As I said, because Dean told me to. Take it up to him.” She went back to her notes. “Also,“ she added. “Stop using the fucking telepathy, okay? I don’t-” She hesitated. “Just stop.” She concluded. Sam reopened his book with a sad sigh. All his sadness flushed in the back of Emily’s brain. She closed her eyes and breathed deeply.

Sam quickly glared at her. “Are you okay?”

“I swear to god, Sam, if I hear your voice, your thoughts or your feelings for one more second I will start throwing punches.” She said, rubbing her eyes. “I’m sorry, I- I don’t know how to stop it.”

“Do I look like someone who cares?” She pointed at herself.

“No, sorry, I-”

“STOP SAYING SORRY AND START DOING SOMETHING!” She yelled. Her voice echoed in the almost empty room. Clenching her fists, frustrated, she tried to recollect herself. “Listen, you’re sorry. I get it. You said a dozen times just in the last twenty four hours.” She sighed. “But repeating it over and over won’t change anything.” Sam looked at her, silent. “I used to trust you with every single cell of my body. I trusted you enough to follow you in your meetings with Ruby, I trusted you enough to-” She scoffed. “It took me years to trust anynody like that. After dad died, I knew that it didn't matter what was happening, or what I was feeling, I knew I could count on you to be there with me. Then you died. And when you died, everything else in my life died with it. Then I die, I come back and you-” Emily hesitated. She looked at the ceiling. “It felt so good to have a sibling again, and then you decided to… fuck it all up.” She pinched her nose, exhaling sharply. “I told you you were not gonna get a second chance if you chose her. I'm sorry, I-'' She stared at him, looking for the right words. “I wish I could just forget everything, but I can't.”

“Okay.” He whispered. Emily glanced at him one last time before she went back to the book she was trying to read. “I think I'm gonna head back to the motel, I-” Sam hesitated. Emily didn’t dare looking up from her book, completely ignoring the fact that he didn’t need to see that she was crying, he knew she was crying. “I'll just go.” He concluded before he left the room.

The second Emily heard the door close, she released all the tension in her body. A sob went past her guard. She rolled her eyes at herself and held her breath. One side of her was screaming that she should just forgive him and pretend nothing ever happened, she did it with Dean, she could do it with Sam. But the other side said no: it said that Sam had broken her trust before, on multiple occasions, that he had all the chances he needed, but he screwed up twice. That he didn't deserve a third time and that forgiving Dean was okay, it was different.

She was dead.

He was dead.

Nobody suspected there would ever be real life consequences to what happened in hell.

Forgiving him was okay, even though what he did was thousands times more painful than anything Sam could ever do. On various levels.

She walked out of the church and took her phone out of her pocket.

She had one unread message from Dean. She opened it. It was very quick:

911 hospital

#be the young #be the young update

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rogersevans · 2 years

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Enchanted | IIII

Summary: You didn't expect filling in for your colleague would have the most successful man in Boston besotted with you.

18+ Content Below the Cut, Minors DNI

masterlist | one | two | three

“He what?!” Lizzie shrieked through the speaker as your moved around your kitchen, pouring yourself a large glass of wine whilst the food you had in the oven cooked.

“Don’t make me repeat it.” You grumbled, rubbing your temples to dull the headache that was currently working its way behind your eyes. “It’s like I have a stalker, but without the creepiness.”

“It’s still fucking creepy. It’s like he has this hold on your life, all he needs now is a basement in his house to keep you there.” The blonde shrieked through the speaker and Ari’s low chuckle could be heard on the other end. “I can totally see him making you his basement wife. Did you know that was a thing?!”

“I don’t think you’re helping.” You appreciated the striking contrast in his tone compared to Lizzie’s, even if it did have the tiniest hint of disapproval to it.

“She isn’t.” You grumbled back, resting your phone on the counter as you bent down to check on your cheap oven meal you grabbed on your way home from work. You don’t know how Ari had become a part of your daily life, but here the beefcake was providing you advice and guidance on how to deal with your... situation.

“Did you respond to him?” You didn’t, too angry to think of a witty response. The anger never left you all day or two weeks after the fact. It still burned inside of you, making your skin feel hot and prickly with how bothered you became whenever you thought too much about it. You’d spent the past two weeks stomping around the office, muttering to yourself as you watched in envy as Ellie flitted about attending endless interviews.

Especially when she’d been given the opportunity to interview Mrs Mackie. The one name on top of your bucket list to interview. Your boss fully aware of this, but still held eye contact with you during the morning briefing as she alerted Ellie of the good news. A slick smirk tugging at the corners of her lips, like she was enjoying it.

Ellie had approached you, tail between her legs, hat in hand and the biggest puppy dog eyes she could muster. You liked Ellie, you found her to be bubbly and eager to please. You’d worked next to each other for the past year and she was the least annoying co-worker in your office. But there was a reason she worked on the fashion, she was a fumbler, constantly tripping over her own words. You almost lost your temper when Ellie danced around the subject of asking you for help in preparing for the interview with the most powerful woman in Boston. But you knew it wasn’t her, more like your boss advising her to do so.

So, you stayed late all that week to help her prep for the Friday interview. You were convinced Ellie had your number on speed dial by this point.

Your boss was surprised when you sent over your finished articles by Thursday afternoon, a day earlier than she’d asked. Convinced you’d fail meeting the deadline with Ellie relentlessly pestering you. Like she wanted you to fail, like it was your fault Chris Evans had reprimanded her in the first place.

Three texts from Chris sat in your messages, and all three had gone unanswered. But, of course, left on read. You found yourself re-reading them as Lizzie waffled on about her day in the background:

Chris: Enjoy your first day back, Princess.

Chris: What? No thank you?

Chris: Go to dinner with me.

The third text had you faltering, blinking at your screen in shock. It had come through earlier on your walk home. Almost two weeks of blissful silence from him.

Well, that’s if you don’t count the younger looking man that had been seen outside of your apartment and office on numerous occasions. His blue eyes would ungracefully look elsewhere whenever yours met them.

On the third night of his watchful presence, you startled him when you rapped your knuckles against the blacked-out window, a Tupperware of something in the other. You learnt his name was Jake, that he worked for Chirs, unofficially, too scared to ask him to elaborate you handed him the Tupperware before darting back into your apartment building.

Now you felt used to his presence. You’d built up a routine with Jake. You’d learnt that he wasn’t the smoothest of talkers, he fumbled a lot, made a lot of references you didn’t understand. A techy genius. Every night at 6pm on the dot, you brought him down some food. Every night something different.

You remember hearing Jake call out to you when you stopped dead in the street, making sure you were ok. The sound of him cutting the engine brought you back to the present to stop him from getting out of his car. Dismissing it as reading something you read online.

It took you a few minutes to regain composure, your eyes re-reading the message when you stepped into your apartment building. Your fingers twitching to reply to him, something snarky perhaps? Anger mixing with something you weren’t sure of. Something that felt a lot like... Butterflies? That’s when you felt it, your heart hammering against your ribs, winding you. Your palms sweaty as you reached to press the button for your floor in the elevator. A warm feeling blooming in your chest, making your cheeks flush.

As you re-read the message now you couldn’t stop your mind from picturing what he would wear to a date. Would he be dressed in a perfectly pressed suit? Or would it be more casual? Does he even own a pair of jeans? Wait, hold the fuck up. Did you want to go on a date with him?

Before you could answer your own question the sound of another call coming through had pulled you from your reverie. Your mouth going dry and the sight of the name.

Chris.

“Shit.” You mumbled, suddenly flustered as you stood from your bent over position.

“What? What’s wrong?” Lizzie asked, ignoring how you interrupted her story.

“Nothing. I’ll call you back.” Was all you said before deciding to end the call and accepting Chris’s. “Evans.” You greeted him curtly, placing your palms on the counter top, starring ahead of you.

“There you are.” He called through the speaker, his voice deep and soft. His tone indicating that he was happy to finally hear from you. “I was beginning to think you were ignoring me, princess.”

“I just answered to tell you to fuck off.” You spat, earning a low chuckle from him. “Stalking can land you five years of prison time, as well as a hefty fine.”

“You don’t seem to have a problem with it. What was it tonight? Casserole? Very domestic.” Chris hummed in response. Of course, Jake had told him you’d been feeding him.

Rolling your eyes, you spun on your heels to turn the oven off before turning back to your phone. “Oh yes, Jake, I like him, he’s very charming.” You purred into the speaker, smirking when you hear him huff in annoyance. “He knows how basic human communication works. Unlike you.”

It took him a couple of minutes before he could respond, calming his nerves. You were trying rile him up and it was working. He hated the effect you had on him, the hairs on the back of his neck sticking up with irritation.

“Go out with me. Just one date.” He gently purred at you, causing your heart to flutter furiously.

“My answer is still the same. No.” No matter how much your heart rate increased around him, how nervous he made you. The answer will always be no. No matter how much you felt yourself wavering with each no.

“You’re going to make me beg, aren’t you? Don’t make me beg.” He pleaded softly, his tone light.

“Oh please, have you ever had a women say no to you before?” You couldn’t stop the roll of your eyes thankful he couldn’t see you as you found yourself leaning into the call. Resting your elbows on the counter and your chin in your palm. Genuinely interested in his answer.

“Well-”

“On second thought, don’t answer that question.”

“Common darlin’,” he drawled, his accent coming out thick as he spoke and rendering you weak in the moment. “I’ll beg, don’t think I won’t. Is that what you want? Get me on my knees?”

You didn’t mean to stay silent you had the perfect response lined up. But his accent caused the words to fizzle out on your tongue, your mouth opening and shutting a few times before he spoke up again.

“Say the word and I’ll be round within the hour, on my knees baby.” He cooed from the other end, a deep chuckle rumbling through his chest when he heard your squeak of a you wish in response.

Sebastian watched from his seat next to Chris, his eyes lighting up in delight when he heard you hang up on his friend. Not being able to hold back his laughter. “You’re fucking whipped, you know that right? And she won’t even give you the time of day.” His fist now balled up and covering his mouth to hold in his laughter.

“Shut it, Stan.” Chris snarled, twiddling his phone between his thumb and index finger before sliding it into his pocket. His mind on your response and how your voice had become higher in pitch when you spoke.

“I think it’s sweet, Evans finally got himself a girl. Who knew you were capable of human emotion? Me and the Mrs had bets on when the time would come, she doubted you.” Anthony mocked from his chair, sat opposite his friends. They’d been having a meeting when the topic of conversation had changed to you, Chris doesn’t even remember how it happened. But one daring comment from Sebastian about how Chris didn’t have the balls to ring you and ask you out had him dialling your number so quick he almost stuttered when you answered.

“Damn straight I did.” Came a fourth voice, a lot softer than their deeper ones, making all three men turn their heads in the direction of the door.

Mrs Mackie. Anthony’s girl. She had been somewhat of an enigma over the years, rarely seen in the eyes of the media, but her presence was strong within their world. She and Chris had been friends since they first opened their eyes, born days apart from one another, her being the eldest. A fact she liked to remind the Bostonian of. She had more experience in their field of work then all three combined, her father being the head of the biggest crime family in Boston. Something that rivalled the Stans.

A thing of beauty, she had every man she met falling at her feet. Including her husband. They met when they were teenagers, Chris had shielded her from his friends at first. Until she had him pinned, giving him a mean Chinese burn, forcing his hand. Like she always did.

Anthony was 18 when they met, two years her senior, and he still remembers the feeling of butterflies erupting through his entire stomach when he first laid eyes on her. He became enamoured with her, spent time getting to know her, driving her to school, showing up at her bedroom window unannounced in the middle of the night, they’d spend hours talking. It took him three months to get the courage to ask her out, he remembers it perfectly, she’d cornered him in her room. Demanding to know when he was going to ask her out.

“There she is.” Sebastian cooed with a beaming smile, ignoring Anthony’s eye roll.

“You doubtin’ me?” Chris greeted his longest friend, his tone light and teasing as he stood to plant a gentle kiss to her cheek, giving the small of her back a gentle rub.

“Don’t I always?” She quipped back, giving his arm a quick squeeze before moving round to greet Sebastian with a tight hug. “Someone needs to keep you in check.”

Both men watched as she sauntered around Anthony’s desk, resting her hand on his shoulder before giving his lips a quick peck and shoving his shoulder for him to move. It never ceased to amaze them how soft he was for her. It shouldn’t shock them how he lifted himself up from the chair with ease in seconds and holding the chair out for her. But it did.

From the moment they met they knew he was a goner. From the across the room, she had him in the palm of her hand, then her eyes met his and he was falling so deep they struggled to pull him out.

“Now, who’s this poor girl and what have you done to her?” Leaning back in the chair, she smiled when she felt Anthony’s hands rest on her shoulders.

“You told her?” Chris directed at Anthony, his brows shooting up in surprise.

“Not everything.” He clarified with a wave of his hand. “I told her there’s a girl. But I thought I’d let you fill her in.” Smirking across at him, earning a huff from Chris.

Chris began explaining the whole story, from the first day he met you in the elevator to now. Too caught up with his story and finding himself becoming frustrated at how things had transpired between you both. The hard stare, one that if looks could kill he’d be 6ft below quicker than he could blink, coming from the fiery female directly opposite from him going unnoticed by the frustrated brunette. Her annoyance growing the more Chris spoke.

It happened all at once, like a blur of colours as she stood from her seat, her hands firmly pressed against the desk as she leant over and lifting one to smack him upside the head. Everything about the woman might be tiny in comparison to the bulky, and pure muscle of the three men in her presence. But make no mistake, her strike was powerful.

It had Chris faltering mid conversation, leaving him to rub where she’d just smacked him and mumbling a quiet, what the fuck. Blinking at her as he watched her sit back down, leaning forward and her nostrils flaring. “What the hell are you doing?” Silence is her answer, Chris becoming confused quicker than his brain could catch up. “Let me get this straight,” she continued, holding her hand up to silence his ramblings when he did deicide to speak. “You cornered this poor woman in your office, encouraged to talk about something you knew you’d have a problem with, then have the audacity to get her suspended?!” Shaking her head in anger, mumbling something about how dumb men are.

“I got her, her job back!” Chris tried to reason with her, his hands going up in surrender. Anthony and Sebastian both tittering to themselves at this point, standing off to the side. Anthony loved seeing his wife in action, nothing got the blood rushing to his dick quicker.

“Don’t even get me started on that.” Her voice now low as she snarled. She had a lot of passions in her life, a lot of things she cared about. The main one being her family, specifically her daughter. Which lit the fire within her to create a more equal society for her to grow up in. She fought hard for women and their rights. “You do realise women have to fight so much harder than men, just to be heard? Do you think I got to where I am because of my talent or dedication? No, but I worked hard to make people see past my last name.” Taking a deep breath through her nostrils, she allowed her eyes to flutter shut, taking the time to calm down before she opened them again. “You took her job away from her and then gave it back! Do you have any idea of how powerless that made her feel?”

“Baby.” Anthony cooed, taking a step towards the desk tentatively, wanting to help his friend out. Watching the 6ft man cower under her stare, knowing how intimidating his wife can be.

“Don’t defend him,” she demanded with finality, her head whipping in his direction and her brow arched. “Or do you want to spend the night on the couch?”

“You’re on your own on this one, man.” Was all Anthony said before he ushered Sebastian out of the room, ignoring his protests and whines of Evans is having his ass handed to him right now and I’m missing the show.

“Now,” she continued once the door clicked shut, taking in Chris’s sheepish demeanour. “You like her, don’t you?” His opened, then closed, then opened again. He did this a couple of times before she interjected. “I thought you did. Although, it’s a funny fucking way of showing it.” She huffed, relaxing back into the big leather chair. “This isn’t the 40’s. You can’t just throw your weight around, act like an alpha male and bang your chest to get her attention.”

“I don’t do that.” Chris defended weakly, his chest puffing out in defence and brows frowned. Oozing alpha male attitude.

“You’re such a fucking ape.” She grumbled in return, making Chris snort in retaliation. The tension suddenly easing in the room. “But you’re my best friend and I love you, Evans.” The soft smile that now graced her lips, had his unspoken anxieties settling in an instant. Not that he would ever admit it, but she scared the shit out of him. He remembers how she used to pin him with one hand when they were kids, no underestimation that she could still do that now. No matter their age.

“So, out of pity. I’m going to help you.” He beamed across at her and she couldn’t help but return it back to him. “But,” she warned, dragging the word. “You do as I say, none of that CEO energy bullshit. You want the girl; you listen to me. Got it?”

Chris couldn’t have nodded quicker, almost giving himself whiplash. On the edge of his seat, listening intently to every word she spoke. Detailing her plan.

Sundays were your favourite day. You always took the morning to tidy your apartment and then spent the rest of the day on couch, it was your re-set day. Everyone knew this. Which is why you couldn’t help the confusion in your tone when you answered the call from Scarlett.

“Scarlett? Hey...” She never rang you. She hardly rang her own sister at times, she was more of a texter you’d come to learn over the years. Always claiming to be too busy to call people.

“Are you dressed? If not, throw something cute on, we’re going a BBQ.” She greeted with a cheer.

“A BBQ? What? Scar, its Sunday-”

“I’ll pick you up in ten minutes.” She sang through the speaker before the line went dead, leaving you confused.

Ten minutes later you found Scarlett letting herself into your apartment, key in hand as she pushed the front door open with her hip and lifting her sunglasses so they rested on top of her head.

“How the hell did you get a key?!” You shrieked, pushing yourself off the couch to rest your hands on your hips, your brows shooting up in shock.

“What? I got one cut.” She explained simply with a shrug of her shoulders. “I have one for Lizzie’s as well, just in case of emergencies.” You’d normally find the sentiment sweet, knowing Scarlett wasn’t one for tender moments. But you were to irked that someone had the nerve to disrupt your Sunday routine.

“Scar-”

“You’re not dressed! Come on dingus! I gave you strict instructions, we’ve got places to be, people to see!” Not giving you time to protest she marched over to you and started pushing you towards your bedroom. “Now, you go shower and I’ll sort you an outfit out.” Opening your bathroom door and shoving you in before closing it behind you, not giving you room to interject. Leaving you stood in your bathroom, shocked and confused as hell.

20 minutes later you found yourself in the passenger seat of her car, things had been silent since you left your apartment. The baby pink sundress she had picked out for you rested mid-thigh on you, the hem tickling your skin whenever you moved. The white high-top converses complementing the outfit nicely.

“Wanna tell me what we’re doing?” You finally asked, eyeing her suspiciously from your seat.

“I told you, going to a BBQ.” Remaining tight lipped about the situation, you felt ambushed and flustered. You didn’t like surprises, in fact you hated them.

“Ok,” you huff. “Where is this mysterious BBQ?”

“The Mackie’s.” She mumbled, her eyes never leaving the road in front of her.

“What!?” You shrieked, making the blonde across from you wince. “Are you kidding me?!”

“Don’t panic, alright? I know his wife, she’s a good friend of mine. Total sweetheart. Until you piss her off. But you won’t, because I’ll be there!” What else didn’t you know about Scarlett? It's like she led this double life. The version you and Lizzie were involved in, and the other where she had dealings with the seedy underworld of crime. How flippantly she explained that she was ‘good friends’ with Mrs Mackie, like she was just some regular Joe she’d met at work.

“Why am I even invited? This is weird. I don’t know them.” You whined once you took in the mansion Scarlett had parked outside of, mumbling a quiet ‘fuck’ to yourself. It was like something out of a murder mystery, like you’re about to step onto the set of Downton Abbey. The pink blossom trees surrounding the property making it seem less, off with your head.

“Mackie liked you, plus she wanted to meet you.” The blond shrugged simply, grabbing her bag from the backseat and jumping out of the car with you shortly following behind.

“Meet me? Why?” Rounding the front of the car, your hands smoothing down the hem of your dress. Now you wondered if the dress you were forced to wear was too short, too casual. But as you took in Scarlett’s casual denim shorts and loosely tucked in AC/DC shirt, that had seen better days, the uneasy feeling settled within you slightly.

“She heard what happened at the club, and everything that happened with Chris.” Her hands coming to rest on your shoulders, giving them a comforting squeeze. “Stop asking so many questions and just enjoy the day.” Not giving you another second to protest, she grabbed your hand and lead you around the side of the property, clocking the guards protectively dotted around the property and covering every exit.

You hadn’t even rounded the corner of the side gate when you were greeted by hostess in question, her arms tightly wrapping around you and smile stretching to meet her eyes. “I can’t believe your powers of persuasion worked Johansson.” The rare photos of her circulating the internet had nothing on her beauty in person, there was no hair out of place on her head and her makeup had been applied perfectly. You know the barley there look, that leaves you wondering? Yeah, she nailed it. Her height towered over you only slightly, and her embrace felt like you’d known one another for years.

She was doing nothing for your confidence.

“I’ve heard so much about you.” She teased, reaching over to hug Scarlett, her hands rubbing up and down her back.

“Weird. I haven’t heard a thing about you.” You quipped back, your eyes playfully narrowing in on Scarlett when they released one another.

Her laugh reached your ears and you swore you’d never heard anything more poetic. No one had a perfect laugh, you knew this, if you laughed too hard, you’d snort. Lizzie’s genuine laugh was more of a wheeze and Scarlett’s was more of a cackle. But no. The woman stood in front of you right now had laugh that sounded like it had been crafted by angles.

Ok. Maybe that was a bit dramatic. But you were finding it hard to believe this woman had any flaws.

“My husband told me you were funny.” Anthony spoke about you? Does that mean Chris speaks about you to him? “I’m glad you could make it.” Her tone genuine and her eyes sincere, distracting you from your thoughts.

“I didn’t have much of a choice.” You grumbled, again, your eyes playfully narrowing in on Scarlett’s green ones, earning an eyeroll from her.

“Would you like a drink? Beer? Wine? Cocktail?” Her brows waggling at the last suggestion, her eyes dancing between you and Scarlett. You’d never felt so out of place somewhere.

“Beer is fine.” Was your only reply, Scarlett agreeing with you. You both watched as she spun on the heels of her flip flops, sauntering through the crowd of people, her smile never faltering.

You took the time to actually look around the back garden, if you want to call it that, it more resembled three soccer pitches together. It was beautifully decorated, fairy lights strung throughout, a BBQ- which looked like something they’d bought from the space station, situated by the backdoor, a bar sat beside it with 2 freaking bartenders behind it muddling drinks. A massive pool sat in the centre of it all and off to the far right, a giant children’s climbing frame. The garden was packed with people, some faces you recognised and some you didn’t. The sight of children running around and laughing was something you would’ve picked out of a movie.

“Where’s my favourite girl?!” You heard a gravelly voice call from behind you, looking over your shoulder you caught a glimpse of Chris, your brain going still in the moment.

He wore a navy-blue t-shirt and matching trunks, sunglasses rested on the bridge of his nose shielding his eyes from you. He was crouched and his arms open wide and the corners of his lips reaching his eyes in a beaming smile as a young girl ran into them, knocking him back and landing on his ass, both finding the interaction hilarious as he held her close, one hand holding her head and the firmly wrapped around her tiny frame.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” You grumbled, turning back to face the rest of the party. There were those pesky butterflies again, fuck you butterflies.

“Oh, don’t tell me. You’re going soft on him?” Scarlett teased a knowing smirk now evident as her elbow nudged your side. “What? You see him with a kid and suddenly your legs are spread?”

“You’re disgusting.” You huff in annoyance.

“And you’re only human.” She quipped back quickly before Anthony’s wife could hear as she approached you both, three beers in hand. Resisting the urge, the look over your shoulder again, a warmth blooming in your chest at the sound of his laughter.

This was going to be a long day.

#chris evans #chris evans fic #chris evans x reader #chris evans x y/n #chris evans x you #chris evans x fem!reader #chris evans x female!reader #chris evans x female reader #chris evans x f!reader #chris evans fluff #chris evans angst #chris evans fanfiction #cevansedit #cevans #evansedit

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natrogersfics · 1 year

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Game Plan - Chapter 9: Someone You Loved

Artwork by @faith2nyc Read on AO3

“I’ll make a tea drinker out of you yet.”

“Mobius keeps it around for when he’s desperate.”

With her drink in hand, she turns to find Loki standing by the doorway of his kitchen, a sleeping puppy nestled securely in his arms. “That man is a glutton for punishment.”

“Oh, you’ve no idea,” Loki says with a wiggle of his eyebrows, prompting her to chuckle as she makes her way over to them.

Loki scoffs. “I believe that’s the same thing I said about your new hair color.”

“I wouldn’t say I’m in love with it,” she says. “It’s definitely growing on me, though.”

“Then I echo that sentiment when it comes to this mongrel.”

“Did you or did you not let him sleep in your bed last night?”

“Hela is not that bad,” she reasons.

“Isn’t she?” Loki challenges. “She’s high-maintenance, full of herself-”

Loki’s voice rises a decibel. “Modest dwellings?”

“Hela, hey,” she interjects, handing Loki her mug as she steps between him and Hela and ignores the scowl the former directs at her. “How have you been?”

“I’ll bet,” she says, smiling back at Hela even as she elbows Loki when she hears him mutter something unkosher over the rim of his mug.

“What about you?” Hela says. “What brings you to town?”

“Nothing really,” she says before nodding towards Loki. “This one had invited me to stay over, and since I had time off from work, I figured why not.”

She chuckles quietly. “Allowing commercials during the game has its perks.”

Hela hums, her expression growing pensive for a second, before her emerald eyes suddenly light up. “Have you ever considered hosting an NFL game here in London?”

“Hela, Natasha is here on holiday,” Loki tells his sister sternly. “Let’s not ruin it with talk about work.”

“Not yet, that is,” Hela says with a wink. “Besides, you wouldn’t need the entire league, just two teams. If you could get the Avengers to agree, that’s half the battle already won.”

“True,” she concedes, “let me see what the GM-”

“Hela,” Loki says, a veiled warning in his tone.

“I wouldn’t know,” she says, keeping her tone even. “I’m strictly focused on the team’s PR now.”

“What are you talking about?” she asks at the same time Hela’s name falls pointedly from Loki’s lips again.

From her periphery, she catches the way Loki’s gaze shifts towards her, but she keeps her eyes on Hela as she shrugs. “I’m sure they have their reasons.”

“Just be glad he’s not your problem anymore,” Hela says before sighing. “Anyhow, Fenrir and I best get going.”

“Best idea you’ve had yet,” Loki says, eliciting a glare from Hela as he reaches for the doorknob.

“Oh, one last thing,” Hela says, peering over Loki’s shoulder as he lets out an exasperated sigh. “How long are you in town for?”

“I leave in two days,” she says.

“In that case, the League is having a charity event tonight. There’ll be drinks, dancing, an auction. Not to mention a parade of handsome lads.” Hela smiles. “I’d love to have you.”

“Seriously?” Loki says, “Natasha didn’t fly all the way here to-”

“Actually, that sounds great,” she interjects, ignoring the surprised expression that makes its way onto Loki’s face. “Thanks, Hela.”

Loki purses his lips, as if to ponder her question. “We’re stopping for scones first, right?”

“Obviously.”

Hela sure knows how to throw a party. That much is evident as she and Loki stand amongst the sea of people mingling across the expanse of Whitehall Suite, taking in their surroundings. Chandeliers hang off the high ceiling of the room lined by Victorian pillars, its lights accentuating the crisp white cloth covering each and every elaborately set table. All around, servers in tuxes roam about, offering guests champagne and a wide range of hors d'oeuvres, while the marble statue of the Premier League Lion stands as the proud centerpiece of the evening on stage. This event is the very epitome of luxury and elegance – not that she expected anything less from an event planned by someone related to Loki. While he insists that genetics and a birthday are the only things he and Hela share, there’s simply no denying that their tastes are identical.

“Can you believe my sister wasn’t going to invite me to this?” Loki fumes from where he stands next to her, looking dapper in his navy pinstripe suit and his hair slicked back.

“You and I both know that she was going to invite you eventually,” she says, rolling her eyes before taking a sip of champagne.

“Everyone who is anyone in the League is here!” Loki says as though she had not uttered a response. He points towards a man standing close to the stage, his golden suit jacket contrasting against his dark skin. “That gentleman there? That’s Heimdall. He’s the President.”

“Then what are you still doing standing here?” she asks, waving him forward. “Network!”

Loki contemplates the idea for a moment before sighing, his expression chastised. “You know what? No. Work takes a backseat tonight. I’m here to have a great night with my best friend.”

“And as your best friend, I’m telling you not to pass this opportunity up,” she says, looking pointedly at him.

“No work tonight, and that’s final,” Loki says. “Now, tell me.” He points towards the acrylic stand propping up the poster for tonight’s auction. “What’s our cap for tonight?”

When Hela had mentioned an auction this morning, she had assumed it was for novel, high-ticket items. It was not until she and Loki walked into the venue that they discovered it was actually a First Dance Auction and that bidders would be vying for an opportunity to dance with players from the various teams. It’s an opportunity she could not care less to pursue, and as far as she’s concerned, her checkbook isn’t coming out to play this evening.

“Please,” she says, all but snorting at the idea. “The only thing I’m indulging in tonight is the bar.”

“I can see that,” Loki says, watching as she downs what’s remaining of her champagne before setting it down on the cocktail table before them. “It’s for a good cause, you know.”

“Call me crazy, but I’m pretty sure that I can still practice my altruism without participating in this…”

“Meat market?” Loki offers.

She chuckles. “Your words, not mine.” Her gaze falls back to Heimdall, who appears to have moved into conversation with someone else. She squints in an attempt to get a better look, taking in the dark hair and the burly figure of his new companion, and her eyes suddenly widen. She taps Loki’s shoulder, nodding in Heimdall’s direction. “Isn’t that-”

“Skurge,” Loki finishes for her, the disdain evident in his tone as he turns to see his least favorite client talking to Heimdall. “Of course he would have the balls to walk up to the President.”

She recalls what Loki has told her of Skurge’s antics – particularly the weekend Loki spent putting out the media firestorm that erupted after the Goalkeeper had one too many drinks at his local pub and decided to leave the establishment with nary a stitch of clothing. She cringes. “You should intervene. Now.”

“What for?” Loki posits. “The man has probably ended his career by now. And besides, I’m off the clock.”

“Look, you can deal with this now or you can let this fester,” she points out. “Either way, we both know this is going to be your mess to clean up. Might as well get ahead of it.”

“Are you sure?” he says, the conflict evident in his eyes. “I mean it, Nat, I didn’t come here tonight to work.”

“It’s okay,” she insists, sighing when he does not look convinced. “Seriously, Loki, go put out that fire then meet me at the bar so we can both drink our weight in champagne on your sister’s tab.”

“I love you,” Loki says, giving her a kiss on the cheek. He turns away, only to stop and look back at her. “Don’t get into any trouble without me.”

“You really think I could get into trouble without you?”

“In that little number?” Loki says, gesturing towards the black, one-shouldered cocktail dress she’d picked up this afternoon. “Opportunities abound.”

“Go,” she says, shaking her head when Loki leaves with a wink.

As Loki disappears into the crowd, she makes her way towards the bar and to the first open spot she can find to ask the bartender for a refill. “Actually,” she says not even a second later, “is there any chance you could make me a Manhattan instead?”

The bartender nods, turning away as she mouths a thank you. In her temporary moment of solitude, she lets her eyes wander across the room, watching all the sharply dressed men and women – many, she assumes based on their build, to be players – engaged in conversation over half-finished drinks. She’s far from a stranger to these types of events, but for the first time, she’s happy to be a mere spectator instead of the one pulling the strings behind the curtain.

“Your Manhattan, miss,” the bartender says, setting down the coupe containing the amber-colored cocktail before her.

“Thanks,” she says, lifting her drink to her lips as the bartender leaves.

“Someone willingly ordering bourbon in England. I have seen it all.”

Her ears perk up in intrigue at the comment – particularly at the low rumble of the American accent it’s uttered in – and when she turns, she sees that it’s come from a man in a dark gray suit, his penny-tinted glasses shining underneath the lights. She shrugs. “I figured it would even out all the tea I’ve been drinking.”

“Well, you’re much better at assimilation than I am.”

“What makes you say that?”

“You just admitted to willingly drinking the hot brown water they insist on calling a beverage here.”

“You make it sound worse than it is,” she argues even as she fights the smile trying to make its way across her lips.

“It tastes like a wet paper bag.”

She arches a brow up in question. “How do you know what a wet paper bag tastes like?”

“I’m going to have to plead the fifth on that one,” he says. “I haven’t had nearly enough alcohol to tell you about that.”

“Is that so?” she asks, chuckling in amusement when he simply nods. And though she hesitates at first, she finds herself taking a step back to give him access to the bar. “Sounds like you should order something then.”

“Yeah?” he asks. “You really want to find out about how I know what tea really tastes like that badly?”

“If only for science.”

His grin grows wider. “Science, right,” he says, lifting his finger to grab the attention of the bartender. He, too, orders a Manhattan, and for reasons she can’t quite place, that brings another smile to her face. As the bartender walks away, he extends his hand out to her. “I’m Matt, by the way.”

She takes his hand, giving it a shake. “Natasha.”

“I’m telling you, Zeppola’s on 7th has the best cannolis in the city. If you haven’t had them, you’re missing out.”

It only takes halfway through their first round of Manhattans for the conversation to take off between them. What starts as a dissection of the things England does better than the States, eventually morphs into not only them ordering another drink, but also Matt delving into the things he does miss about home – the cannolis from his favorite hole-in-the-wall bakery in Hell’s Kitchen coming second only to his friends and family. She likes to think it’s Matt’s quick on his feet wit and the no-fuss attitude he exudes as he casually leans an arm against the bar, picking at the tiny plate of olives, but somehow, she’s not all that surprised to learn that he grew up in New York as well.

“The way you talk about them, it’s like the cure to the world’s problems,” she says just as she finishes the last of her drink and sets the coupe back down on the bar.

Matt smiles. “Watch world peace permeate once everyone in the world gets a hold of them.”

“I’ll be sure to grab one the next time I have a bad day at work then.”

“Speaking of work,” Matt says. “I don’t think you’ve mentioned what you do.”

“Neither have you,” she points out.

“Ah, but I asked first,” Matt says, shrugging. “You snooze, you lose and all that.”

“You know, you leaning into that loophole is very telling,” she says, nodding when Matt raises his brows in intrigue. “It’s very attorney-like.” Matt’s only response is to shrug before he mimes zipping his lips. When his silence does not let up, she sighs. “I do the same thing every stressed-out person you see running around this room does. I work in PR.”

“In sports?” Matt says, prompting her to nod. “Any team I might know of?”

“Are you familiar with the Avengers?”

“The Avengers?” Matt says, a touch of disbelief coloring his tone. “As in, the New York Avengers?”

“The very same,” she says, watching the way his face lights up with her confirmation. “I take it you’re a fan?”

“Are you kidding me?” he says. “Sundays in the Fall were my favorite. My dad took me to as many games as possible. My current occupation might say otherwise, but I love the NFL.”

“And what is this occupation you speak of?” she asks. “Besides being an expert at identifying what tea actually tastes like, that is.”

Matt laughs, but before he can get a word out, feedback from the speakers catches the attention of the entire room, and they both turn towards the stage to find Hela standing at the podium with a microphone in hand.

“Well, I guess that answers my question of is this thing on,” Hela quips, eliciting a chuckle from the crowd. “Now that I have your attention. Good evening, ladies and gentlemen, and thank you for attending the Premier League’s first annual First Dance auction! All proceeds from tonight will go to the Wildlife Conservation Society to support their efforts to protect lions from poachers.” Hela points towards the statue of the lion towering over her from behind. “This is a cause that’s obviously close to our hearts, so remember to keep that in mind when you’re writing your checks tonight.”

As Hela goes on to explain the mechanics of the auction, she leans in closer to Matt. “Can you believe they’re actually auctioning off their players?”

Matt turns to her. “Actually-”

“First up, let’s all welcome to the stage, the star Striker for the Red Devils, Matt Murdock!”

Her eyes widen at Hela’s words, and before her, Matt’s expression turns into a cross between a smirk and a cringe. “So, about my job…”

She watches in both amusement and disbelief as Matt leaves to make his way towards Hela just as the crowd cheers him on. As he does, a montage of his season’s highlights plays on the gargantuan monitor above the stage, the reel ending in a game-winning bicycle kick.

“I am so sorry I took so long,” she hears someone say, and it isn’t until Loki’s towering over her, his expression aggrieved, that she realizes he’s returned. “Skurge was being a total-” He pauses before he can say anything else, sighing deeply. “Not important. Anyway. Was that Matt Murdock I saw you talking to?”

“Uh huh,” she says, quickly looking back at the stage to see Matt now standing next to Hela.

“For those of you who don’t know, Matt here is from across the pond,” Hela says. “With eighteen goals so far across all competitions this season, he is also currently the League’s top scorer.” The crowd cheers, prompting Hela to hold a finger up. “But there’s more! Off the pitch, you can find Matt catching up on true crime podcasts, practicing martial arts, or taking long walks across London at night.” Hela wiggles her brows suggestively at the last one. “Isn’t that romantic? Now, let’s start the bidding at a thousand pounds.”

“Leave it to my sister to turn what’s supposed to be a classy event into a total circus,” Loki remarks as hands go up in the air and people yell out numbers.

She hums in response, watching and listening as each bid goes higher and then higher still. And she’s not sure if it’s the alcohol running through her veins or the adrenaline from the turn of events tonight, but suddenly, she finds herself raising her hand. “Ten thousand!”

Next to her, Loki’s eyes grow wide as saucers, his jaw practically hitting the floor. She does not dare meet his gaze, though, choosing instead to keep her eyes trained on Matt, who’s already beaming at her from ear to ear.

“Ten thousand pounds!” Hela exclaims, waiting for a counter. “Do I hear eleven thousand?” When she’s met with silence, she begins the countdown. “Going once… going twice… sold!” Hela points her mallet at her. “To the lovely lady in noir!”

A few glasses of champagne, a couple of Manhattans... The second the auction ends, she mentally takes stock of the drinks she’s had tonight as she makes her way towards the table by the stage to drop off her check. In theory, she could blame her actions on the alcohol, but she knows just as well that the excuse is feeble. She’s many things, but a lightweight is not one of them. Whatever it is that made her audacious enough to bid on the handsome stranger she’s just met tonight – the same one she’s learned also happens to be the star of the League – it’s sure as hell not what she’s been drinking.

Not that she gets the chance to pinpoint exactly what has her acting this way. The second she hands her check to the attendant and signs her name on the clipboard of donors, she finds Matt standing there, his hands tucked into his pockets.

“You are just chock full of surprises, aren’t you?” he asks, a smile gracing his face.

She smirks. “That’s rich coming from a man who announced his occupation via highlight reel.”

“I swear, that was one hundred percent a coincidence,” Matt says, holding his hand up in promise.

“And here I thought you just liked the theatrics,” she notes, causing them both to laugh. “I guess I figured if a couple of drinks couldn’t get the paper bag story out of you, then maybe a dance would.”

“You’re really not going to let that go, huh?”

“You can’t offer up something like that and not follow through!”

“Then I guess we’ll have to see how well you dance,” Matt says, holding his hand out to her and nodding towards the dancefloor.

She shakes her head even as she takes his hand, allowing him to guide her to where all the other participants are already gathering. Matt leads her right to the center of the room, the largest of the chandeliers hovering just above them. As he does, her eyes meet Loki’s from a few feet away, her best friend shooting her an amused smile as he, too, lines up with his partner. She smiles back at him. There’ll be a discussion about this later, but for now, she’s only too happy to live in the moment.

“Ladies and gentlemen, are we ready for the first dance?” Hela asks into the microphone from where she’s still on stage, eliciting nods from the couples all around. “Then give it up for tonight’s band, The Warriors Three!”

Matt Murdock can dance. If the way he had led her effortlessly into a Waltz as the band began to play was not evidence enough, by the time they’re halfway through the song and he lifts their hands and pulls away slightly so she can twirl outwards, she’s thoroughly convinced. It’s when he pulls her back into his arms, the both of them continuing to sway, that she notices that his lips have pulled up in a boyish grin. “What?”

“Your smile,” he says, “it’s infectious.”

“You’re smooth, Matt Murdock,” she says, looking away momentarily in an attempt to hide the blush that tints her cheeks. “I’ll give you that.”

Matt chuckles. “In case I haven’t made it obvious, I’ve really enjoyed getting to know you tonight, Natasha.”

“And in case I haven’t made it obvious,” she says, her smile mirrors his. “The feeling is mutual.”

“Yeah, I think the hefty bid made that pretty obvious.”

“Those were for the lions,” she quips, laughing when he feigns disappointment.

“In all seriousness, though,” Matt says just as the song ends and the band transitions to the next. “I’d love to know more about you. Maybe…”

If Matt had a question at the end of his sentence, she does not hear it. The second the next song begins to play, the soft strum of the guitar filtering into the room, her breath gets caught in her throat, the room around her all but fading as she’s brought back to a completely different night – to the last time she had heard this very song.

“This isn’t a dream, right?” she asks, her hands falling to Steve’s bare chest as he pulls her closer and they move to the song he’d selected on his phone. “You, me, the last few hours…”

“If you have to ask, then I don’t think I did my job right,” Steve quips, chuckling when she looks witheringly at him. But then his thumbs are rubbing soothing circles against her hips, over the material of his shirt. “Yes, this is real.”

“Good,” she says, smiling up at him, “because there’s nowhere else I’d rather be right now.”

“Good,” he echoes, “because I wasn’t planning on letting you go.”

Despite the many things she wants to say, the words evade her. How could she possibly, in this moment, accurately depict how effervescent and fearless she feels in his arms, under his reverent gaze. What combination of words could capture all of that? There is none, but more importantly, she realizes that there doesn’t need to be. For there isn’t a narrative that she needs to take control of here. No watchful eyes they need to evade. This moment is theirs and solely theirs, and the feeling in her gut right now – the unmistakable certainly she has for her feelings for him – she doesn’t need to voice it because it’s reflected in his eyes too, clear as day. So instead, she brings her hands up, cupping his face as she pushes up on her tiptoes to capture his lips in hers.

“I love you,” Steve whispers when they pull away, his eyes never once leaving hers.

“I love you, too.”

“Natasha?”

The sound of her name snaps her out of her trance. She blinks once, twice, another time, and when her vision focuses, she finds Matt staring back at her, confusion evident in his features. She shakes her head. “Sorry, what was that?”

“I asked if I could take you to dinner tomorrow night,” Matt says, his brows furrowing. “Are you okay?”

“I… um,” she says, her eyes wide as takes a step back from him. “I’m so sorry, Matt, I have to go.”

She turns away before Matt can respond, weaving her way through the still swaying couples on the dancefloor. Faintly, she hears Matt call out to her, but that only causes her to hasten her steps as she finds her way towards the exit as fast as her heels will permit her. She makes it to the large mahogany doors when someone catches her wrist, and though her first instinct is to pull her hand away, she relaxes when she looks back to see that it’s Loki holding onto her.

“Let’s go home, yeah?” Loki asks as he studies her face.

She nods, letting out a breath as Loki places his hand on the small of her back and they make their way out.

She’s sitting in the alcove of the window, staring out into the night when she feels a sudden warmth envelop her, and she looks to see that Loki’s draped his suit jacket over her shoulders. “Thanks.”

Loki only nods as he settles down next to her, content to let the silence permeate between them for a little while longer. “Natasha, what happened?” he asks eventually, shifting to face her. “One second, you and Matt are dancing, and the next thing I know you’re running out of there like the room is on fire.”

When her eyes meet Loki’s, she finds that the concern in them has only intensified since they walked back into his apartment. “The song that the band played during the auction…” she begins, “Steve and I-”

Loki does not let her finish her sentence, opting instead to place a comforting hand over hers. “Nat,” he says, the look in his eyes softening. “If it’s guilt you feel…”

“It’s not guilt,” she says quietly, running her free hand over her face. “I had fun tonight, Loki, and I hate how I left Matt that way.” She shakes her head. “He didn’t deserve that.”

“Then why did you?”

“I saw the pictures,” she says, sinking her teeth into her bottom lip at the admission. Ever since Hela had mentioned the new pictures of Steve and Peggy, she hasn’t been able to get them out of her head. It wasn’t until she saw Loki leave his phone on the credenza as he went to pick up his suit from the cleaners that she saw the opportunity to look them up for herself. Surely enough, the pictures were exactly as Hela described, and though she’s been convincing herself all this time that none of the pictures she’s seen thus far mean anything to her, if tonight is any indication, it’s apparent that she’s been lying to herself. She looks back at Loki, expecting to be scolded, but is instead greeted by his knowing expression. “You’re not surprised.”

“I figured there was a reason you’ve been acting off tonight,” Loki says before shrugging. “But if you think I’m ever leaving you here again while I pick up my dry cleaning, you’re sadly mistaken.”

Loki bumps his shoulder jokingly against hers, and she rolls her eyes even as they share a chuckle. “I suppose I should be angry…” she says a moment later. “I should be angry that he told me he couldn’t be with me because he needed to focus on his career, and I’d accepted that because we promised that we’d never get in the way of each other’s dreams. But then… Then he turned around and seemingly got back together with his wife.” It’s the first time she’s ever stated the reality out loud, and she has to pause to steady her voice. “I should be angry that he didn’t even have the decency to tell me to my face that he was firing me, and because of that, now my career is hanging in the balance.” A tightness builds in her throat at the words, but she swallows it down. “I should be angry that I can’t escape him. Not when I pick up my phone, not when I turn on the TV…” Mistakes she can handle, she’s made many in her lifetime and has weathered the consequences. But never before has she been constantly reminded of any mistake she’s made – none of them haunting her the way this one seems to everywhere she goes – when she’s trying to move forward. Tears begin to prick her eyes, blurring her vision, and she lets out a scoff. “I should be angry for every reason I just mentioned, but I’m not… I just miss him instead.” She shakes her head. “How pathetic am I?”

“Hey…” Loki says, giving her hand a squeeze just as tears begin to stream down her face. “You listened to your heart, Nat. That doesn’t make you pathetic.”

“Yes, it does,” she insists, placing a hand on Loki’s arm when he begins to disagree. “I should hate his guts, Loki. But instead, the second I heard that song play… the only thing I could think of was how badly I wanted it to be him standing in front of me.”

“Oh, Nat,” Loki whispers, wrapping an arm around her as he pulls her to his side. She rests her head against his shoulder, and he drops a kiss to her hair as she wipes the tears away with the back of her hand.

“What’s happening to me?” she asks later on when she’s gotten her breathing back to normal.

Loki lets out a long and winded sigh. “Natasha,” he says, his hand still running up and down her arm consolingly, “love is… well, it’s shit-”

“You couldn’t have told me that sooner?” she deadpans.

Loki gives her side a poke, eliciting a chuckle from them both as she shoves him lightly in return. “As I was saying before you so rudely interrupted me,” he says pointedly, and though she knows he can’t see her face at the moment, she cracks another smile nonetheless. “Love is shit. It makes you question everything you thought for certain you were sure about. It makes you think the worst things about yourself… it drives you to do things you never in your wildest dreams thought you’d do.” The hand she has resting on his knee tenses at that, and Loki reaches to cover it with his own, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “It takes a fair amount of madness to fall in love, and yet, people still do it because when it’s not shit, it’s utterly rapturous.”

“So what you’re saying is…” she says as she lifts her head off his shoulder, turning to show him the brow she has raised. “I’m not pathetic, I’m just insane?”

“I’m saying, only the courageous fall in love, Nat,” he says. “Contrary to popular belief, no one truly falls in love blindly.”

“I don’t think I follow.”

“We know what love does to people,” Loki says. “We hear it in songs, we read about it in stories… see how it changes the people closest to us. Life is littered with warnings about love. It’s why not every person is strong enough to open the door when it comes knocking.” He shakes his head. “So no, Nat, I don’t think listening to your heart makes you pathetic or insane. I think it makes you fucking brave.”

For a moment, she can only sit there, taking in Loki’s words and considering this brand new perspective. Ever since her leave began, she’s been berating herself for allowing this all to unfold, for not knowing better and not making smarter choices. But above all, she’s been disappointed in herself for still harboring the same feelings she has for Steve as though the last two weeks didn’t happen. As though her heart doesn’t feel as though it’s been eviscerated beyond repair and the new life she only had a brief moment to want, to envision – the one where she got to be with the person she loves and still conquer all her dreams – didn’t crumble as quickly as it had materialized.

In all her wallowing, not once, however, has she stopped to consider the fact that while things hadn’t turned out the way she wanted, she still took a leap of faith to set them all in motion. She deviated from her carefully devised plans. She allowed herself to for once, want something more than success. She let someone in, let them see parts of herself that only people truly closest to her get to see. She fell in love – something she’s never done before. And if only for that, perhaps she deserves some credit.

With that revelation, she sighs, though for the first time in weeks, it’s in relief. “Have I told you how much I freaking adore you?”

“Once or twice,” Loki says, smirking. “Never hurts to hear it again, though.”

She rolls her eyes, pulling him into a tight embrace nonetheless. “Thank you,” she whispers, to which Loki mumbles something about not mentioning it. And though this isn’t the first time she’s felt grateful to have him in her life, she finds herself thanking her lucky stars that their paths have crossed in this lifetime just the same.

“Speaking of being brave, though,” she says, letting out a sigh when they eventually pull away. “I think it’s time I face the music.”

“What are you going to do?” Loki asks.

“I am going to enjoy my last two days here with my best friend,” she says, smiling at the look of approval Loki gives her. “And then I’m going to go home and do what I should have been doing from the start.” She shrugs. “I may not know what to do about my heart, and truthfully, I’m not sure there’s a quick fix. But what I do know is that I can still prove to everyone that I am still the right person for this promotion.”

Loki smiles. “And don’t they dare forget it.”

There wasn’t time to give Pepper the speech she had rehearsed repeatedly in her head since she boarded the plane back to New York. Nor was there time to discuss the million and one requests from the press for comment about the Ravagers beating the Avengers on the latter’s return from bye-week, marking not only the team’s second loss in a row, but also endangering their playoff chances. There wasn’t time at all to ease back into her job. The second she walked back into HQ and into Pepper’s office, the look on her boss’ face made it clear that there was a more pressing situation that needed to be triaged.

The situation in question came in the form of the Pro Bowl Game, the one time a year fans got to see all-star players from across the league compete against each other in an exhibition game to remember. This season’s game was supposed to be held at Baxter Stadium – home to the Illuminati, the current Super Bowl champions – but a sudden electrical malfunction at their grounds had taken a wrecking ball to those plans. Why the league would award the event to a venue whose electrical grid is powered by an experimental conductor was beyond her, but based on the desperate tone of Commissioner Coulson on the other end of Pepper’s line, all but begging the Avengers to host the game at Marvel Stadium, she knew that there was no use in pointing out the obvious oversight.

And so began her craziest work week to date. There were promos to edit, a media campaign across the social platforms to roll out, and so many more logistical nightmares that needed alleviating that by time game day rolled around, the only thing keeping her, Darcy, and Wanda on their feet were caffeine and sheer will.

As she leans against the railing though, looking down at the main concourse of the stadium where a mix of fans, players, staff, and families stand huddled around the various booths and concession stands, she can’t help but feel a surge of pride for all the hard work she and her team have put in.

“We actually pulled it off.”

The statement comes from Wanda, and she turns to see her coworker also watching the scene unfolding beneath them in disbelief. She chuckles. “Is that surprise I hear?”

“Are you telling me you aren’t surprised?” Wanda asks, gesturing wildly towards the concourse. “We just pulled off a last-minute Pro Bowl switch. Do you know how badass that makes us?”

Despite the cool façade she’s been trying to keep, Wanda’s words cause her lips to tug up in a wide grin. Cramming what the Illuminati’s PR team had a month to prepare for in a week was always going to be a Herculean effort. Nevertheless, their team wasn’t deterred. She smirks. “We are pretty badass, aren’t we?”

“Hell yeah,” Wanda says before nodding towards one of the booths. “I can’t wait to hear what the boss has to say.”

Her eyes wander towards the cotton candy stand to see Pepper in line with a bouncing Morgan in tow. While the success of this event was always a priority for her, a part of her has to admit that she was also glad that despite everything that’s occurred and all they were yet to discuss, Pepper had entrusted her to spearhead this initiative. It's for that reason that she doesn’t push back when Pepper mentions that their impending conversation can wait until after the game, and why she’s been willing to forgo precious sleep in the name of ensuring the team didn’t fumble this event.

“Yeah…” she says, watching as someone approaches Pepper just as she and Morgan reach the front of the line. When she recognizes the long brunette locks of Daisy Johnson, her brows immediately furrow in confusion. “Isn’t Grant our Marketing rep today?”

“He is,” Wanda confirms, following her gaze. “Oh, Daisy’s probably here to ask about Fitz’ shoot tomorrow.”

“The one for Stark Tech?” she says, recalling one of the last few meetings she had prior to going on leave where they discussed Fitz becoming the new face for the latest smartphone Tony was launching. “Since when does Daisy handle shoots?”

“Pepper had brought her in while you were on leave to help ease the workload between Darcy and me,” Wanda says. “She’s doing really well, actually-” The sound of her phone ringing cuts Wanda off, prompting her to reach into her pocket. She looks at the screen before sighing. “I’m sorry, it’s my mom. She’s probably already here with my boys.”

“Go,” she says with a smile, “I’ll meet you in the box.”

As Wanda leaves, she turns and makes her way into the awaiting elevator, taking her phone out just as the doors close and it begins to descend. She peruses her calendar, taking in the events she has listed, and surely enough, she sees the cancellation notice on the Stark Tech shoot along with a note from Pepper informing her that Daisy’s been assigned to run point. She rolls her lips, trying to quash the disappointment that falls over her. Ever since she returned from leave, her focus has been solely on the Pro Bowl game that she hadn’t even noticed the project had been pulled from her.

The elevator dings as it arrives at the ground floor, but her eyes remain trained on her phone as she exits and continues to search for what else she may have missed. She’s so engrossed in her task that it isn’t until her phone practically flies out of her hand that she realizes she’s walked right into someone.

“Shit,” she mutters at the same time the person apologizes, and though she’s vaguely aware of the person reaching down to pick her phone up, she freezes. It’s been weeks since she’s last heard the low rumble of that voice. Nevertheless, she recognizes it just the same, and when she looks down, she finds Steve, already clad in his uniform, picking up her phone.

It’s not as though she didn’t expect to see him here. Not only is this game being hosted in the Avengers’ home field, but it’s also meant for the best of the best in the league, and with the second-best passing record so far this season, he fits the bill squarely. But for the first time in weeks, work has consumed nearly all of her mental real estate that she’d almost forgotten that inevitably, she would have to face him, too.

“Doesn’t look like there’s any damage,” Steve says, still inspecting her phone from where he’s kneeling on the ground.

She squares her shoulders. “Good to know.”

The second the words leave her mouth, Steve’s head whips up, his eyes filling with surprise when he sees her standing over him. “Natasha.”

“Hi, Steve,” she says quietly, giving him a single nod.

Steve’s eyes never once leave hers as he rises to his feet. “You dyed your hair.”

“I did, yeah,” she says, before nodding towards her phone. “Can I have that back?”

“Right, of course,” he says, handing her the phone.

She mumbles a thank you as she slips the phone back into her jacket pocket. “I should get going.”

“Natasha, wait,” Steve says just as she turns to leave. “Please.”

For a split second, she hesitates, before ultimately deciding to turn back. She crosses her arms over her chest. “Is there something I can help you with, Steve?”

“No,” he says, his expression a cross between conflicted and taken aback. “I just… How are you?”

“Steve,” she says, an exasperated breath falling from her lips. “It’s fine, okay? You don’t have to do this-”

“But I do, Nat,” Steve says, cutting her off. “Look, I know you were placed on leave and I-”

Relief floods her entire being when she suddenly feels a pair or arms wrap around her legs, and she looks down to find a pair of big brown eyes staring up at her. “There’s my guy!” she coos as she bends down to scoop Nathaniel, Clint’s youngest son, into her arms. “Look how big you’ve gotten!”

“And so much faster,” someone chides, and she looks up to see Laura, Clint’s wife, approaching with Clint and their older children, Cooper and Lila, not far behind. Laura wraps her arms around her, pulling her close. “There she is!” Laura all but squeals. “It’s so good to see you, Nat! Love the new hair!”

“Thank you,” she says, returning the hug. “It’s so good to see you too, Laura.” As they pull away, she shoots Clint a smile, who in return nods his hello, before she gestures towards Steve. “Oh, Laura, I don’t know if you’ve already met, but this is Steve Rogers, the Avengers’ Quarterback.”

“We met a few times after games,” Laura says, walking around her to give Steve a one-armed hug. “Nice to see you again, Steve.”

“Likewise,” Steve says.

Silence befalls them, but luckily not for long as Darcy’s voice, loud and thunderous, comes over the PA a second later. “All players report to the tunnel, I repeat, all players report to the tunnel!”

“And that’s our cue,” Clint says. “Come on, Cap, we better go before Darcy hunts us down.”

Steve nods even as his gaze remains trained on her. The look on his face is one she can’t quite put her finger on, so she settles for a simple, “Goodluck.”

“Thanks,” Steve says before he and Clint make their way towards the field.

“All right,” she says, turning back to Laura and the rest of the Barton clan once Steve and Clint are out of sight. “Who’s ready to go up to the box?”

“Do they have those snacks up there too?” Cooper asks, pointing a thumb over his shoulder and in the direction of the kettle corn and cotton candy stands.

“Cooper Barton, have I ever let you down?” she opines.

“Never!” comes the reply of all four of the Bartons surrounding her, eliciting a laugh from all of them as they make their way towards the executive box.

Two touchdown passes from Steve to Johnny Storm, the Illuminati’s wide receiver, put the NFC division up over the AFC by the time the halftime whistle blows. The match starts feistier than is typical for an exhibition game, mainly because John Walker, the outside linebacker for the AFC who’s known for being quite the hothead, can never seem to take it down a notch. Things settle once the referees issue the AFC a ten-yard penalty after Walker intentionally tripped Pietro on a run, and if she’s being honest, so does the interest of most people in the executive box in the game itself. It’s especially the case for her and Laura, the both of them having sat through enough of these matches that the yearly event had lost its luster long ago in their eyes.

“I can’t believe Nathaniel is four already,” she says, shaking her head in disbelief as she watches the boy stand alongside his siblings and Wanda’s sons, Billy and Tommy, the five of them watching the halftime festivities unfold down on the field through the large glass windows. “Feels like it was just yesterday when I posted his birth announcement on the Avengers’ Instagram page.”

“I can’t believe it’s been almost half a decade since Clint joined the Avengers,” Laura says.

“Clint was my first ever assignment,” she recalls. “It’s still crazy to me that he chose me, a rookie, to be his publicist.”

“And thank God he did,” Laura says, bumping her shoulder against hers. “We wouldn’t be here without you, Nat.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” she says, brushing off the eyeroll Laura gives her in response.

“You’re the one being ridiculous,” Laura insists, her lips parting to say more when she’s interrupted by a whine. They both look towards the children to see Wanda already rising from her seat to investigate the cause of the squabble. Laura sighs. “Speaking of ridiculous. I better help Wanda out with this one.”

She chuckles. “Looks like you’re up, momma.”

“Be right back.”

She watches Laura approach the kids, letting out a quiet chuckle at the sheepish looks that fill all three of their faces as both Laura and Wanda shoot them stern glances.

“You know what else is ridiculous?”

The question prompts her to look behind her where she finds a man seated in the row above, his arm stretched across the back of the seats as he rests one ankle casually on his knee. Intrigued, she arches a brow up. “And what’s that?”

“I think it’s ridiculous that someone could pull together a last-minute hosting gig for the Pro Bowl Game and not have a single portion of this afternoon go down in shambles,” he says, his hand gesturing towards their surroundings. “And yet here we are… As if this game was meant to be played here all along.”

“The magic of a great management team,” she says simply.

“Perhaps,” the man says, a nonchalance to his tone. “Perhaps it’s just the work of a brilliant mind. I mean, how else would an ailing franchise also turn their reputation around so quickly?” He gives her a better view of his hazel brown eyes as he leans forward, as if to tell her a secret. “Clearly, there’s a strategic mind behind all of it, just pulling all the strings with carefully devised media campaigns and events.” He chuckles. “I, for one, know the team over at Baxter Stadium are ashamed to their core.”

She’s no stranger to running into boastful guests in the team’s executive box. Family members of players and staff aside, she knows the only types that end up in this space are high net worth individuals who buy into it for the geotag on their socials and who couldn't care less about the game. But connections are everything in this business, and there’s a reason some of the most consequential deals earn its legs in this very box, so she indulges the man anyway. “You think so?”

“I know so.”

“And how could you possibly know that?”

“Because my company runs their marketing and PR for them,” he says. “I know each and every person we have on payroll and know for a fact that not a single person on it could pull off what you’ve just done here today.” He smiles. “I’d like to change that, Ms. Romanoff. More specifically, I’d like for you to change that.”

“That’s pretty arrogant, don’t you think?” she says, schooling her expression into a neutral one in an attempt to conceal her surprise over him knowing her name. “Outwardly poaching me, at my workplace no less...” She tilts her head to the side. “Some might even call that unethical.”

“For those who have never had to fight for every opportunity, I suppose,” he says. “Regardless of what you’d like to call my proposal, though, my company still has a vast portfolio of clients just yearning for guidance, and I know that there isn’t a person working in the industry today that’s more qualified to provide that than you, Natasha.” He rests his chin on a closed fist, shrugging. “Why waste your talent on one team when you can have them all?”

She’s used to people being bold, but she has to admit that the level of brazenness this man is exhibiting is novel, even for her. “You’re seriously offering me a job?” she asks, nearly scoffing when he only nods. “I don’t even know your name.”

Rick Mason CEO, Real Pro Communications

Her thoughts race a mile a minute as she sets the business card down on the desk before leaning back into her chair. She had waited all of five minutes after Mason had excused himself from the Executive Box, citing an important call he had to take, before informing Laura and Wanda that she too had things she needed to take care of in her office.

If her due diligence is accurate, Real Pro Communications really does have the robust portfolio Mason had bragged about, with clients ranging from a good chunk of the teams in the NFL to every sports league imaginable. The mere thought that she could sink her teeth into this opportunity – one that’s inexplicably fallen into her lap – brings a zing of excitement to her that she realizes she hasn’t felt in quite some time.

As intriguing as this new opportunity is, though, she finds that she’s also not completely sold on it. It’s not as though she’s unhappy with her job. She loves this team, this organization. Pepper is the best mentor she could possibly have asked for. Darcy and Wanda, her dream team, are practically like her sisters. And despite the challenges she’s faced in the last few weeks, she can’t discount the fact that this team has provided her with a myriad of opportunities to hone her skill set and grow professionally, trusting her with the largest initiatives despite her relatively short time in the field.

Then again, there’s still the matter of her promotion hanging in the balance. While Pepper had said that their conversation could wait, with the pressing matter of the Pro Bowl, she wonders now how much of it was out of necessity rather than her boss still having the utmost confidence in her. She thinks back to the fact that one of her assignments had been reassigned from under her, but the second the thought comes unbidden in her mind, she chastises herself internally for even entertaining it in the first place. Pepper has always been her biggest champion and their relationship has always been based on trust and mutual respect. If Pepper had plans of withholding her promotion – or worse, firing her – she would have said so the second she walked into her office last week. What’s more, Daisy is as talented and hardworking as they come. If she’s been afforded this opportunity, it’s only because she deserves it.

The sound of her phone vibrating against the wood of her desk interrupts her thoughts, and she reaches for it to see Pepper’s name flashing across the screen. Quickly, she taps the answer button before bringing the phone to her ear. “Pepper, hey.”

“Are you still in the stadium?”

“Yes,” she says, her boss’ unusually clipped tone prompting her to rise from her seat. “I’m in my office. What’s wrong?”

“Get down to the clinic, stat.”

The call drops, and as her home screen appears, she finds it littered with notifications. The topmost bubble filled with capital letters catches her attention first, and as she reads its contents, she leaves the door wide open behind her as she sprints out of her office.

AVENGERS BRAWL AT THE PRO BOWL

Chapter 8 | Chapter 10

#Romanogers #Game Plan

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jayjeebee · 3 years

Text

I think Jeff Azoff sold Harry Styles.

I've been talking about this since 2018 but my friends @sockgate @alwaysyousunflower @fortunatelyshynerd @finewallsline28 @thatumbroshirt really put the pieces together and solved it.

Kisses for their sexy big brains.

So this is rough, because I'm lazy. Feel free to add info.

Theory

Harry and Jeff have been on the outs since 2019 at least.

Harry making remarks about not liking LA, and selling property in 2018-2019.

Harry filmed all of the Fine Line music videos aside from Adore You without Jeff present.

Harry conducted most of his promotional interviews without Jeff present.

Jeff was present at Harry’s One Night Only shows, at the arena Jeff’s family invests in.

Harry making remarks about not liking Halloween – the Harryween shows were announced by his team a week later.

Harry not being seen with Jeff outside of work functions for at least two years.

Jeff’s wedding to Glenne was obviously fake. Their extended families weren’t there and girlfriend wore an off the rack dress with loose hems and didn’t wash her hair.

The wedding PR stunt was done to promote the Holivia fauxmance.

Theory

Olivia Wilde was seeding Shia LaBeouf as her boyfriend for DWD promo

Given that she was seeding a break up from Jason as early as April 2020, she most likely cast Shia with the intention of a PR romance to keep this movie promo run interesting.

When Shia’s behaviour led to the studio firing him Olivia went on a public campaign regarding appropriate workplace behaviour and feminism. I believe this was all intentional as a defence against her soon to be realized PR stunt.

It’s clear Jeff and Olivia have been connected through business since at least 2018.

I believe Jeff gave Harry to Olivia for DWD promo.

I believe Harry knew there would be some sort of stunting involved, but we have no way of knowing if he knew the details. A one year contract is most common in Hollywood – Ben Affleck and Ana de Armas are a good example.

Harry wearing the Umbro shirt in September 2020, one week after signing onto DWD, indicates that he knew what was coming and tried to reassure the fandom in advance.

Theory

Jeff is still financially invested in a number of revenue streams, including CAA, Warner Brothers, New Line Cinema, and various other institutions where he would benefit selling Harry to CAA/Olivia for DWD.

Connections

Booksmart – 2019, directed by Olivia Wilde

Anderson Paak, Full Stop Management client, has a song on the soundtrack

Lizzo, Full Stop Management client, has a song on the soundtrack

Olivia promoting Lizzo’s music in December 2019

Ted Lasso – 2020, produced by and starring Jason Sudeikis

Produced by WB Television

Don’t Worry Darling – 2021, directed by Olivia Wilde

Starring Harry, repped through CAA

Theory

Jeff is financially invested in Olivia more than Harry.

Olivia released her own homemade teaser trailer without the approval or acknowledgement of the studio (no acknowledgement from the studio, nothing on their official accounts)

Jeff and multiple people affiliated with HSHQ posted the teaser.

Harry himself hasn’t acknowledged it.

The HSHQ account posted the teaser.

Lizzo, Full Stop Management client, has repeatedly posted the trailer. These videos were reposted by Olivia.

Harry was never a long term investment for Jeff. His team fully expected the hype around a former boybander to die by the time he hit 30.

Jeff has other, more lucrative investments, and as we can see from his work over the last few years, he has never worked to cultivate Harry’s fanbase.

Jeff has essentially moved on from Harry in everything but name.

Whether Harry has been cutting business ties for the last two years and we are just not seeing the results of this, remains to be seen.

Update - Jason's team won an Emmy for Ted Lasso and they thanked WB before anyone else. k.

TIMELINE (not comprehensive I cbf)

2013

Harry Styles meets Jeff Azoff

Jeff is still working as a manager at CAA Music

Irving Azoff resigns as Chairman at Live Nation and creates Azoff MSG Entertainment

*Backed by the Madison Square Garden Company, which Irving invests in

https://www.nytimes.com/2013/09/05/business/media/irving-azoff-starts-new-entertainment-business.html

2015

Speculation that Harry has left Modest and has signed with Jeff; these rumours are confirmed in February

https://hitsdailydouble.com/news&id=299496

2016

Jeff quits CAA to start form Full Stop Management, financially backed by Irving

https://www.billboard.com/articles/news/6898391/jeffrey-azoff-exits-caa-new-company-exclusive

Harry stars in Dunkirk. Jeff follows the social media accounts, but there are no posts.

*Dunkirk is a Warner Bros fil,

2017 – 2019

Focus on Harry’s music career.

2020

Shia LaBeouf cast for DWD.

Olivia Wilde photographed alone repeatedly from April 2020 onwards, likely seeding a break up with Jason Sudeikis.

In June, rumours spread about Shia killing dogs on the streets of LA.

By July, Harry Styles is rumoured to be linked to Don’t Worry Darling. He is cast early September.

Harry doesn’t acknowledge DWD, and to this day has not said the name of the movie or posted about it on social media, nor has he liked anything related to the cast aside from cast follows.

By early October, Olivia starts seeding a romantic connection with Harry. Fans and media don’t notice it because, well.

Jason and Olivia are papped hugging and kissing on the street outside their house in December.

2021

Harry and Olivia spotted holding hands at Jeff Azoff’s ‘wedding’ in January.

What follows is a frankly insane year long campaign in which Olivia tries to convince the world she is dating Harry.

HSHQ and Jeff interact with Olivia. Harry never does on social media.

Here is an Irving Azoff timeline up to 2010 – Irving has had ties to WB since at least 1989.

https://hitsdailydouble.com/news&id=280194&title=THE-LONG-RUN:-AN-IRVING-AZOFF-TIMELINE

If we really want to lose our minds, Irving has money in WB, where Danielle was employed in 2016

https://twitter.com/STREAMLIGHTSSUP/status/678807703427223552?s=19

#harry styles #stunts #jeff azoff #olivia wilde #holivia #don't worry darling #dwd #pr stunts #big brains at work

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sometimesbeforeitgetsbetter · 3 years

Text

Off the Record | Stiles Stilinski

Pairing: Stiles Stilinski x reader

Summary: High school in Beacon Hills, as told through the eyes of one inquisitive journalist who has a knack at getting on Stiles Stilinski's nerves.

Warnings: idk there's like a couple curse words lmao. also, spoilers? if you haven't finished teen wolf I guess??

Word count: 8,227

A/N: hi hi this is my first fic I'm posting on Tumblr (not to say that this is my first fic ever...anyway)! before you start, I just wanna say that there's a couple things that might be off from the show but please just ignore them. like I think it's bs Lydia brings Stiles back and not Scott in 6b so I righted that wrong. but I hope you enjoy and please let me know what you think of it! thanks for reading!!

All my life I’ve wondered why people didn’t question what happens in Beacon Hills.

It’s no secret that our town is unusual, but when odd things seemed to happen, people would just turn a blind eye and go about their business.

I, on the other hand, couldn’t let it go. I was inquisitive by nature, and my mom never knew how to answer my questions.

Why do we have so many animal attacks?

What happened to the people that disappeared in the Preserve?

Why did his eyes glow like that?

That last question almost caused my mom to get me a therapist – which probably would’ve helped me regardless – but she just continued to answer with her usual responses.

They just feel threatened by us, dear.

They’re in a better place now.

I’m sure it was nothing – you probably just saw some reflection in his eyes.

But no matter what she told me, I wasn’t satisfied. I knew there was something bigger going on, something my mom couldn’t explain, but I wasn’t sure what. As I got older, however, I realized that if I kept voicing my concerns, I’d be seen as the local crazy person – which, at the time, was the title reserved for my neighbor, Donna Romano, who always went to Town Hall meetings to complain about how some supernatural creatures were traumatizing her dogs every time she took them out at night to urinate.

Out of fear of sounding like Donna, I kept my suspicions to myself. I observed the strange actions of those around me and kept note of the bizarre events that happened in town. I found that it was something I was good at – observing. Always watching, but never voicing my opinions. Eventually, it got the best of me because I grew really quiet at school. But I didn’t mind. I liked being a wallflower.

One day in the fifth grade I saw my mom reading the Beacon Chronicle and I had an epiphany – journalists investigate weird, inexplicable events, so I should be a journalist. Reading the news became my favorite pastime, and by sixth grade I decided I would join the high school newspaper, The Daily Beacon, when I became a freshman. I figured maybe it would give me an outlet to investigate the odd occurrences in the town without looking like a lunatic.

But in sixth grade, I noticed that some of the odd things had stopped happening. There were less animal attacks and disappearances from the Preserve. Some people had even left town, including the last of the Hales, whose house had burned down that same year.

I didn’t give up hope though. I kept my head down and waited for things to get weird again. In the meantime, I wrote for enjoyment. In eighth grade I started shadowing a girl named Anna that was a part of the Daily Beacon, and I started writing articles – album reviews, movie reviews, school news.

Everything was going smoothly until my sophomore year of high school. Suddenly the weird things were happening, and I was sure that there was one person that was at the epicenter of it all – Scott McCall.

“...Angela, you’re covering the new faculty; Thomas, you’ve got the new Vegan Support Group club some juniors just created; and y/n, you’re covering lacrosse try-outs,” said Andrew, the editor-in-chief of the Daily Beacon.

I groaned slightly. “Andrew, couldn’t I write something a little bit more...my style? Like what about the one freshman class that boycotted their summer reading and is facing suspension?”

He gave me a slight look. “y/n, you know how important this lacrosse piece is. You know what that sport means to the school. You should be glad I’m giving you this opportunity,” he scolded. “Besides, Marlene is covering that class and is already interviewing their teacher.”

I nodded slowly and tried to refrain from rolling my eyes. I knew that Andrew meant well – he had been like an older brother to me ever since my freshman year – and he was right about the importance of lacrosse. I stayed quiet until he dismissed us, then mentally prepared myself to spend my afternoon watching some jocks exude machismo on a field.

When my last class was over, I walked over to the lacrosse field and found myself a spot on the top of the bleachers. It gave me an excellent vantage point – until a couple girls sat down right in front of me. The redhead I recognized to be Lydia Martin, the school’s resident popular girl. We’d been in class together all our lives, but I couldn’t remember a time she ever talked to me. I’m sure she didn’t even know I existed, just like the majority of the other people in our grade. The other girl, however, I didn’t recognize. I found out her name was Allison by overhearing their conversation. She was new and must have just moved to Beacon Hills.

The shrill sound of Coach’s whistle knocked me out of my thoughts. Tryouts started, and I watched as Scott McCall, a boy from my grade, was nearly knocked out by a lacrosse ball to the face. I winced but wrote down the event in the notebook I had out for documentation.

The next ball that went Scott’s way didn’t hit his face though. He managed to catch it in his goalie net. I couldn’t help but be a bit surprised – like Lydia, I’d known of Scott my whole life though he probably didn’t know me at all. But that meant I knew he was an asthmatic that wasn’t particularly skilled at sports.

“He’s actually pretty good,” I mumbled to myself as Scott continued to catch every ball that came his way.

I didn’t realize how loud I must’ve said it though because at my remark Allison turned around. “I was just thinking the same thing,” she said, obviously surprised. “Do you know him?”

I shook my head and quickly turned my attention to my notebook to write down the surprising turn of events. “Are you writing about this for the school newspaper?” I looked back up at Allison’s question. She was paying attention to me?

“Um, yeah, I am. I’d rather not write about sports, but here I am,” I joked lightly.

She let out a beautiful laugh at my statement. “Well, I’m glad you’re here. I’m Allison, and you are…?”

“y/n,” I answered. “Nice to meet you, Allison.” Suddenly the crowd roared, and I remembered why I was there. Allison, too, smiled and turned her attention back to the game. Lydia hadn’t said a word, but she was focused on watching Scott absolutely demolish Jackson Highmore, who, in my opinion, needed to be knocked down a few pegs anyway.

The more I watched Scott though, I got this weird feeling. He was good – too good. I tried to ignore my feelings and just focus on writing notes for the ridiculous lacrosse piece, which would include the headline: “Sophomore Scott McCall shines at lacrosse tryouts and becomes team co-captain.” But deep down I knew there was something up with him.

A few days later, I was sitting behind Stiles Stilinski, Scott’s best friend, in English class. Even though I’d had nearly all of my classes with him, we never talked. It originally was because I had a minor crush on him and was afraid I’d pass out if I spoke to him, but eventually it just morphed into me not speaking to many people and being convinced he didn’t know of my existence anyway.

But this one day, I was committed to speaking with him. I had to know what was going on, and if there was one person that knew anything about Scott’s new-found lacrosse talent, it was Stiles.

“Hey, Stiles,” I spoke up from behind him.

The brunette turned around, slightly confused but with that soft smile on his face. “Oh, hey, y/n. What’s up?”

I swear my heart stopped beating for a second. He knew my name? He knew who I was? I shook myself out of my thoughts before I went down the rabbit hole of the implications of him knowing me.

“Oh, nothing much. I’m just writing a piece about lacrosse tryouts for the school newspaper and I was just wondering if you had anything to say about it,” I explained.

He tilted his head slightly and shifted in his seat to more fully face me. “Um, yeah sure. I think it’s going to be a great season, especially since we’ve gotten some new leadership. My boy Scott’s co-captain now, so those Devenford Prep guys won’t know what hit them!”

“Speaking of Scott, when did he get so good at lacrosse? Would you say it’s natural talent?” I pressed a bit, hoping he’d say something that would give me a hint as to what was going on.

Stiles’ eyes squinted a little, and his head tilted slightly again. He seemed to be at a loss for words, which was unusual for the fast-talking, sarcastic boy, but he quickly recovered. “It’s definitely...natural...talent. He’s been working extra hard recently to hone his talent and skills so he could bring his A-game to this year’s tryouts.” When he finished speaking, he looked pleased with himself, and I could tell he had let out a small sigh of relief.

What are you hiding?

Though I didn’t know it yet, at that moment my rivalry with Stiles Stilinski began. He and Scott were hiding something, and I was going to find out what it was.

“You’re telling me that a girl is in a coma after the school winter formal and you don’t want me to write a story about it?”

Andrew leaned against the desk and crossed his arms. “It’s not that I don’t want you to write it. I just think it’s a tense time right now. The administration is receiving a lot of flack right now because of the winter formal fiasco, and Ms. Blanchard told me that we may want to avoid stirring the pot right now,” he explained. “That is not to say that we abandon our journalistic integrity and commitment to informing the student body, but we just may want to be sensitive to our environment right now.”

I trusted Ms. Blanchard, the faculty sponsor of the Daily Beacon, but not reporting on Lydia’s comatose state felt wrong. She was well-known at school, and students deserved to know the facts of her situation and how it had happened.Well, maybe I was lying to myself by saying that the real reason I wanted to pursue the story wasn’t the fact that something inexplicable had happened at the dance and I had to figure out what it was.

Andrew could sense my disappointment. “Look, maybe for now you can start collecting information and sources, and I’ll talk to Ms. Blanchard. Maybe she can advise us on how best to proceed.”

I threw my arms around Andrew in a quick hug. “Yes, thank you! I promise I’ll be sensitive when asking sources. I know how difficult this must be for the people close to her.”

“I know you will,” he said, chuckling lightly.

With a smile plastered on my face – perhaps a little inappropriately considering the topic I was excited to cover – I left the small newspaper office in search of my first source: Stiles Stilinski. He had been Lydia’s date to the dance, so surely he must know what happened to her, right? “No, I don’t know what happened,” Stiles angrily responded when I cornered him at his locker. “We were separated for a bit because she went looking for someone. When I went looking for her I–” he stopped suddenly, as if choosing his words carefully. He wouldn’t meet my eyes as he spoke.

“The next thing I know, she was at the hospital in a coma. They told me Jackson had found her out on the field when I went to check on her at the hospital,” he explained.

Something wasn’t adding up. “Ok, but where were you the rest of that time? You didn’t go looking for her when you didn’t see her for a while? What about when she had already been checked into the hospital?”

“What is this – an investigation?” Stiles shouted as he slammed his locker shut. I took a step back, eyes wide at the sudden display of aggression. Maybe I pushed too hard, I thought. Stiles rubbed a hand over his face and took a deep breath. “Sorry, I….I didn’t mean it like that. There’s just a lot going on, and my dad has been up my ass about those details too. To be honest, I can’t tell you where I was. The time just flew by and all of a sudden I’d realized I hadn’t seen Lydia for a couple hours. I wish I had been there for her, but there’s nothing I can do for her now other than check up on her.”

Running a hand over his buzzed head, he shot me a forced smile and said “good luck with your article” before walking away.

I was at a loss for words, trying to put the pieces together in my head. Surely he couldn’t have had a part in Lydia’s injury? There’s no way. But his defensiveness was off-putting–

“Hey, y/n!” I was snapped out of my thoughts by Allison approaching me from behind. “What were you talking to Stiles about?”

“Huh? Oh, um, I was just asking him about…” I remembered that the funeral for Allison’s aunt was happening and didn’t want to mention the additional stress of her best friend being comatose, so I opted for a white lie. “Biology homework. I wasn’t really paying attention in class today.”

“Oh, I didn’t realize you two were friends,” she said as she leant against the lockers.

I shook my head violently. “We’re not.” I’d grown too close to Allison for her to not pick up on my feelings though.

“You say that now, but–”

“I have to get to class. See you at lunch, Ally!”

Other things that year were weird, but none warranted any further investigation via newspaper article. Sure, I was wondering about Erica Reyes’ sudden transformation into the ultimate baddie, the mysterious deaths of a mechanic and Isaac Lahey’s dad, numerous paralyzations at the Jungle, and a death of someone at a secret rave, but Andrew thought it would be best for the Chronicle and Ledger to cover those bigger events. In fact, the only other unnatural event that happened that I had to cover for the newspaper was Stiles’ unbelievable winning streak at the lacrosse championship. I would have quoted him after the game, but I really didn’t want to speak to him and anyway, he had disappeared for a bit right after the team won.

I could tell that things were happening, but it was all hidden from public view. I even noticed Allison’s behavior fluctuating. The arrival of her grandfather shook things up, and while he gave me a bad feeling, I couldn’t exactly figure out why. Lydia was more troubled than usual after coming back from the hospital even though she tried to act normally. Jackson was going through something and was more angry and aggressive than usual, but I wasn’t close enough to him to ask him if he was okay.

Over the summer, I spent a surprising amount of time with Lydia. Allison spent her summer in France, but she asked me to keep an eye on Lydia to make sure she was okay, especially since Jackson had moved to London during the summer break. I was surprised how much I enjoyed spending time with the redhead, and we hung out when I wasn’t working at my internship at The Beacon Chronicle, which my mom had convinced me to apply for after she noticed how irritated I was that I couldn’t pursue some of the stories I wanted.

By the time Allison came back before the start of school, it felt like Lydia and I had been best friends for the longest time.

“So, Allison, have you talked to Scott at all this summer?” I asked when I was sitting in the backseat of Lydia’s car, Allison in the passenger seat.

She shook her head. “No, I think I still need some time. He...hides things from me and I don’t know if I can trust him.”

I nodded my head, understanding the feeling. I still couldn’t place my finger on what had happened between them or what Scott was involved in. Though I comforted her when I found out they broke up, I didn’t really know why they’d done it.

“What about you, y/n? Have you talked to Stiles at all?” Allison asked, looking back at me in the backseat.

“Why the hell would I talk to Stiles?” I questioned, confused.

She and Lydia shared a small look that I couldn’t decipher before she shrugged her shoulders. “I don’t know, but you guys are more similar than you may think. I don’t know why you guys act like you don’t like each other though.”

The car rolled to a stop at the stop light, and all of a sudden I noticed a familiar baby blue jeep approach next to us. “Speak of the devil,” I mumbled. Lydia and Allison didn’t notice Stiles staring and waving at first, but when they did the car was filled with awkward tension.

The next events were a blur: Lydia running the red light, both cars stopping in the middle of the road, and a deer running straight towards us, nearing killing me in the gap between the front seats. We were shaken, and the boys ran towards us when they saw what happened.

“Are you okay?” Stiles asked Lydia, but he kept looking at me. I nodded slightly and he turned his full attention back to Lydia.

“What was wrong with it?” Allison asked as Scott got closer to the deer.

“It was scared,” he explained. “No, terrified.”

Things got progressively weirder after that. On the first day of school, I interviewed our new English teacher, Ms. Blake. She was nice enough, but it was unfortunate that her class was the one that a whole flock of birds decided to burst through the classroom windows. By the time the police arrived, I was already drafting up a story in my brain: Why are the animals acting weird in Beacon Hills?

I had overheard Stiles talking to Scott about the deer’s weird behavior and the number of deer-related incidents in California, so I swallowed my pride so that I could talk to him and maybe get some stats and information on the whole situation.

I walked up to him when he was sitting alone, texting on his phone. “Hey, Stiles.” “y/n? What’s wrong?” He had genuine concern written on his face.

“I overheard you and Scott talking about deer-related incidents earlier,” I noticed how he tensed up at my statement, “and I was wondering if you could help me with a piece I’m writing? It seems like you know all the stats, so maybe...you could write it with me?” It pained me to finish that sentence, but I figured it might be easier to figure out what was going on if he was helping – especially if he already had inside information.

I think for the first time in his life, the talkative boy was speechless. “I understand if you don’t want to or you’re busy–” I said quickly, trying to give him a way out.

“Yeah, sure.”

I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t caught off guard by his response. “W-what?”

He smirked slightly. “Yeah, sure. I’ll help you out with your article, y/n. Collaborate with you, if you will. We can work on it at my house tomorrow afternoon if you want.”

Nodding and agreeing with the plan, I left the chaotic English classroom.

The next afternoon, I felt like I was walking into the lion’s den. Going to Stiles’ house felt foreign, but what was even stranger was seeing him in casual clothes in a comfortable environment.

He answered the door wearing some sweats and a t-shirt, looking more comfortable and confident than I’d ever seen him. “Hey, y/n. Come on in,” he greeted.

I thanked him awkwardly, and we walked to his dining room table to get set up. “Sorry, I need to go grab my notes from my room. Be back in a sec,” Stiles said before leaving me alone in his dining room.

After a moment of silence, Sheriff Stilinski walked in wearing his uniform. “Oh, y/n! What are you doing here?” He had seen me a couple weeks ago in the police station when I was requesting documents for a story for the Chronicle. Though journalists and cops don’t often have a jovial relationship, he said that he liked me because of my commitment to the truth and respectful nature.

“Hey, Sheriff. I’m writing a piece about the animals acting weird, you know, with the deer accident and bird incident, and Stiles said he’d help me since he has a bunch of statistics on deer related car accidents.”

“Stiles is helping you? Well, I’ll be damned.” When he saw the confusion on my face, he rushed to explain himself. “No, not like that. It’s just, you’re all organized and focused, and Stiles is….Stiles.”

I was laughing heartily when the boy himself walked back into the room. “What’s going on, Daddy-o?”

“Nothing, son. Just catching up with y/n here. I’ve got to get to work, but you’re welcome anytime, y/n.” He said before patting Stiles on the shoulder and heading off to work.

Stiles looked over at me oddly when he placed his notes on the table and sat next to me. “Since when are you all buddy-buddy with my dad?”

Shrugging, I said, “Ever since we started grabbing beer every Thursday night while you’re at lacrosse practice.” His jaw dropped slightly, and I laughed again. “No, idiot. We’ve just interacted a lot because of my internship. Now, can we get started on the article?”

After the article was published, my next assignment was writing about the track meet a couple weeks later. I found out Allison and Lydia were riding together to the meet, so I tagged along.

Both girls were extremely tense the whole ride, seemingly concerned about something going on in the bus. We were only a few cars behind the bus full of track runners (and lacrosse players who were forced to attend the meet), but the stand-still traffic was a force to be reckoned with.

“Do you think we’re too close?” Allison asked.

“Honey, if you were any closer I think you’d mount the bus,” Lydia said sarcastically. She got a call from Stiles and looked over at Allison. “Hey, Stiles,” she dragged out the ‘hey,’ tension obvious in her voice.

She listened to what he was saying, something clearly wrong. “What do you mean he’s not–” she stopped when she remembered I was in the car, “healing?” She finished the question quietly, probably hoping I wouldn’t hear.

Healing? Is he injured?

“Yeah, ok, just find a way to get Coach to stop. We’ll meet you there.” She hung up and told Allison to pull off at the next stop.

When we got to the rest stop, I could see everyone hurrying to get off the bus. Allison parked the car, and we quickly went to the bathroom where I saw Scott nearly passed out on the floor. “Oh my god, is he okay?”

“Yeah, y/n. He’s fine. At least, he will be,” Stiles responded. He positioned his body in front of me a little bit as if he was trying to block my view of Scott.

I gently pushed him aside so I could see and was shocked to see black blood coming from the injured boy. “What the hell is going on? Why is his blood black?” I ran forward to get closer, kneeling next to Allison.

“It’s nothing. We just need to stitch him up and he’ll be fine.”

“Stiles, don’t fucking lie to me. I can see that he’s obviously not fine.”

“He’s right,” Allison said quietly. “We need to stitch him up. I need something to stitch him together with.” She looked around before remembering something in her bag.

I shook my head. “We need to tell Coach. Take him to a hospital or something.”

“No!” All three of them yelled at me.

It was quiet for a moment, all of us deciding where to go from here. “Just…” Stiles started, “please go and make sure the bus doesn’t leave without us. We’ll handle this.” I got up and slowly made my way to the door.

As I reached for the door, a hand grabbed my wrist. “y/n,” Stiles said, “it’ll make sense someday. Just trust us for now. Trust me,” he pleaded quietly out of earshot of the girls and Scott.

“I do,” I replied quietly, not meeting his eyes, before pulling my hand from his grasp and leaving the bathroom.

That night, we all had to stay at the Motel Glen Capri because of the postponed meet. I didn’t like its energy, and neither did Lydia. “A lot can happen in one night,” she said.

Though it was supposed to be two to a room, I convinced Coach to let me room with Allison and Lydia. Admittedly, Coach didn’t need much convincing because I was saving the school money by doing so. Once we got our room key, we went up to our room on the second floor.

“I’m going to go get a snack from the machine,” I told Lydia once Allison was in the shower.

She nodded. “Sounds good. I’m going to the lobby. There must be something we can do about these towels that reek of nicotine.”

Grabbing a couple one’s from my wallet, I made my way down the hall to the vending machine where I ran into Boyd and Stiles. As I approached, I could hear Stiles trying to talk to an unresponsive Boyd, who subsequently punched a hole through the glass of the machine, grab his snack that the machine refused to give him, and walk away.

“What the hell was that?” I asked Stiles as I walked up next to him.

He shrugged. “I don’t really know, to be honest.” He reached into the machine to grab his snack and tossed one to me as well.

When I got back to my room, a shaken Allison and Lydia were hurriedly talking about something. “Oh, y/n! You’re back. You won’t believe what just happened…” Allison started

She recounted the story of Scott’s bizarre behavior in the bathroom, and Lydia filled me in on the counter that they have at the front desk. “Can you imagine having a counter for the number of suicides that take place in your hotel? Crazy,” Lydia said. Taking her phone out, she sent a quick text to Stiles telling him that we all needed to talk.

We met him in the hallway a couple minutes later. “What was the text for?” Stiles asked when he saw our little gathering.

“There’s something going on with all the…” she looked over at me before continuing, “guys. You know, Scott, Boyd, Isaac, probably Ethan too.” I tried to connect the dots between all of them, but I didn’t really know what they all had in common. Scott and Isaac were both on the lacrosse team, but from what I could tell they didn’t have a particular fondness for each other or Ethan.

“I think someone’s going to die tonight,” Lydia said decisively.

“Why do you think that?” I asked, but it seemed like I was the only one questioning her line of reason.

She shook her head slowly. “I just...have a feeling.” After a moment of silence, she told us about hearing something from the room next to ours through the vent, so we decided to investigate it. Room 217 seemed empty and locked, but all of a sudden we heard the sound of a saw from behind the door.

Stiles busted the door open, and we opened it to find Ethan turning the saw on himself. “Ethan, stop!” I yelled as we ran into the room. Stiles started wrestling him for the saw, but luckily Lydia saw where it was plugged into the wall and unplugged it.

The next thing that happened was completely unexpected to me. Ethan grew fangs and claws, his eyes blazing red. What the fu–

Allison and Lydia rushed forward, wrestling his claws away from his torso where he had been planning on slashing himself. In the struggle he fell on the space heater, which apparently brought him out of whatever state he was in. He ran out of the room soon after. When we tried to question him about what he was doing, he couldn’t answer us. He had been out of control, and it made Allison realize we were forgetting someone.

“Where’s Scott?” She asked suddenly. When no one could answer, we all decided to split up – I’d go with Allison to look for Scott while Stiles and Lydia went to find Boyd and Isaac.

Scott wasn’t in his room. Allison and I ran all over the motel, looking in every crevice. At last, we decided to check the school bus, and that’s where we saw him. Standing drenched in gasoline, a flare lit up in his hand.

“Scott…” I approached quietly, careful to not make any sudden movements.

It was then that Stiles and Lydia joined us. I watched as Stiles walked into the gasoline, my breath catching in my throat as he nearly sacrificed himself. Scott was talking, but I didn’t really understand what it meant. He said that his life was better before the bite.

Stiles eventually talked Scott down, but the flare rolled into the gasoline. Luckily, Lydia was able to make sure we had all gotten out of the way. I’d ended up next to Stiles on the ground, and though we made eye contact, no words were spoken.

We spent the night in the bus because none of us could bear the thought of spending another second in that cursed place. Coach woke us up in the morning, definitely thinking the worst about what we may have gotten ourselves into, but whatever he was thinking wouldn’t possibly compare to reality. What was reality? I couldn’t have really told you at that point. I didn’t understand what we’d just lived through.

Before the other students started loading onto the bus, Stiles slid into the empty space next to me. “y/n, you know that all of this,” he made a grand gesture to Scott and the others as well as the motel, “is off the record. You can’t tell anyone about this. About what happened.” I held eye contact with him for a moment before nodding. “I wouldn’t tell anyone. To be honest, I don’t even really know what I would tell people, but I wouldn’t.” He nodded, a sad smile on his face as he looked down and fidgeted with his hands. “But Stiles,” I said as he looked back up at me. “Please help me understand it all. You can trust me, I promise, I just want to understand. I want to help.”

With a deep sigh, Stiles nodded once more. “Okay. I’ll tell you everything.”

When Stiles said he’d fill me in on everything, I didn’t realize he meant everything. I couldn’t believe how oblivious I had been to everything that had happened in the past year. Sure, I knew something weird was going on, but how was I supposed to know it was supernatural?

Finding out that my little corner of the world, little old Beacon Hills, California, had werewolves (and a kanima, pack of alphas, and whatever the hell a Darach was) was a lot to process. It was unbelievable, but Stiles helped me believe it.

I could tell that he didn’t fully trust me though. There was something in the way he looked at me that told me he was wondering when I would be done with my source acquisition and I’d write the next big exposé: Supernatural Beacon Hills: How Werewolves Have Been Hiding In Plain Sight. I didn’t know how to assure him that I was on their side and wouldn’t expose their secrets.

As the year progressed, things simultaneously made more sense and less sense. To defeat the Darach, we had to perform a sacrifice for the parents that had abducted, and Deaton – the veterinarian that had taken care of every family pet we’d ever had – told me I had to hold Stiles down during it. He said we had some sort of connection, but I guess that’s what mutual loathing does to people.

In the end, we won. We beat the Darach, the alpha of the alphas Deucalion left, and Scott became an alpha himself. But it was still just the beginning.

The sacrifice did something to Scott, Stiles, and Allison that we didn’t fully understand. Deaton said they left a door open, which only made it harder for Stiles to trust me because he could barely trust himself.

Knowing about the supernatural didn’t preclude my other responsibilities though. I still wrote for the Daily Beacon, much to Stiles’ displeasure, but I enjoyed it. So, on the first day of school I interviewed our newest faculty member – Mr. Yukimura. He and his family had just moved from New York, and his daughter Kira was in our grade. She was nice, but shy, so I invited her to have lunch with us.

Surprisingly, Kira jumped right into the conversation at lunch by mentioning bardo, the Buddhist concept of being in an in-between state.

After lunch, I caught up with Allison to walk to our next class. “Hey, Allison, could I ask you a favor?”

“Of course! What’s up?”

“Well, I don’t really know how to ask this but...I need help learning to defend myself, I guess? It’s just that I’m going to be helping you guys now, and I actually want to be helpful, so I want to protect myself so you guys don’t have to worry about me,” I admitted.

Allison smiled softly. “I’d love to help.” I returned her smile, suddenly giddy, yet nervous. “But, I think you should know that my...aim...has been off since the sacrifice.”

I could hear the disappointment in her voice. “Nonsense, I’m sure that you’re still the best shot in this school.” She shook her head. “It’s never been this bad.”

Touching her arm lightly, I gave her a reassuring smile. “We’ll figure it out together.”

A few days later, I was surprised when I was paid a visit by both Scott and Stiles while I was sitting in the library. “To what do I owe this pleasure, boys?”

“We need your help.” I perked up at Scott’s statement. “We’re trying to solve the Tate case, you know, the one where Malia Tate disappeared all those years ago after that car accident, and we could use your help tracking her down.” He looked over at Stiles and nudged him with his elbow.

“And, you can write a piece about it. Not including all the details, if what we think happened is true, but you can still write something factual,” Stiles said, still displeased that I was writing for the newspaper.

To annoy Stiles, I acted like I was really thinking about it for a minute, but then laughed lightly. “Yeah, I’ll help you guys. Where do we start?”

Pull yourself together, y/n. You’re a journalist. You’re supposed to report on tragedy all the time. Be objective.

I took a deep breath and wrote the first line for what would be the cover story of the next Daily Beacon issue.

Junior Allison Argent, 17, died in an unfortunate carjacking incident last fall.

Before I could write any more, I got a phone call from Stiles.

Oh, thank god. “Stiles?”

“Do you want to come with us to Mexico?” He blurted out.

I couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled from my chest. “What? Mexico? Why? When–”

“Tomorrow.”

“Stiles, are you insane? Even if I wanted to, there’s no way my parents would ever let me go.”

“We’re all telling our parents we’re going camping, if that helps at all,” he said with what seemed like a hint of disappointment in his voice.

I was quiet for a minute, but my mind was already made up. “Why? And who exactly is going?”

“Scott, Lydia, Kira, Malia, and I have to visit some hunters and see what they know about Derek being missing.”

As soon as he mentioned Malia, my mouth started curling into a frown. It’s not that I disliked the werecoyote, it’s just that she and Stiles had been pretty full on since they hooked up at Eichen and started dating. I wasn’t jealous – though I’m sure Lydia would argue otherwise since she’s convinced I like him or something – just...weirded out by their relationship.

I sighed. “I want to help, but I really can’t tomorrow. School starts back up in a couple days, and I need to finish this elegy for Allison and come up with a bunch of assignments for the staff writers…” I trailed off, thinking about all that I had to do before the coming week.

“Oh yeah, I forgot. Ms. Editor-in-chief over here has a life outside of us,” Stiles joked.

Andrew graduated at the end of last year and left his glittering empire to me, though suddenly I felt overwhelmed at the prospect of running a newspaper while being way too involved in the town’s supernatural endeavors. It didn’t bother me last semester, but after Allison…

“I’ll just see you guys when you get back, okay?” I told Stiles. He made an unintelligible noise of agreement. “And try not to let anyone get killed.” “Yes, mom,” Stiles said sarcastically. I could almost hear the smirk in his voice.

When the pack got back, I was surprised by the events that had taken place. “What do you mean it’s a young version of Derek?”

A few days later, I had to cover the spring lacrosse tryouts. Though I wanted to assign it to someone else, I had to do it myself because everyone was busy with the assignments I had given them.

To my surprise, a new freshman, Liam Dunbar, showed everyone up at tryouts – even Scott. I took note of how he seemed almost athletically superior to everyone, and I wondered if he was supernatural.

“He’s human, I’m sure of it,” Scott said as he came up next to where I was sitting on the bleachers, scaring me out of my mind in the process.

“Jeez, Scott. A little warning next time would be nice. But how do you know?”

He shrugged. “I can just tell. He’s just a really great athlete.”

“He’s going to be a great pain in my ass, I can tell,” Stiles said, sidling up next to Scott.

I took note of their reactions, writing down Scott’s comment – about being a great athlete, not human – to consider while writing my piece.

“Oh no, don’t tell me you’re writing a story about him,” Stiles groaned.

“You know I have to write one about the tryouts, and he just happens to be the star player of today,” I told him. “Sorry, Scott.”

Scott waved me off, but Stiles was still upset about the situation. “No, don’t give him the ego boost! He’s already a little shit, and an article about him would make it worse.”

Taking a break from my note-taking, I looked over at the brown-haired boy. “Stiles, have you even talked to him?”

He looked at a loss for words. “N-not really...but I can see his arrogance from a mile away!”

I rolled my eyes. “Well then, if you’d excuse me, I’m going to write up a fantastic story about a talented up-and-coming lacrosse player.”

The article became the next issue’s front page, but I almost wished I hadn’t given him as much attention when Scott turned him into his beta.

The rest of the year didn’t go as planned either, but isn’t junior year supposed to be everyone’s worst year?

As much as I liked helping out with the supernatural problems Scott and the rest of the pack were having, it was hard knowing about what was going on and not being able to write about it, especially when all of the mysterious killings started up. We eventually found out about the deadpool, but I could write about a kill list of Beacon Hills’ resident supernaturals, could I?

At the end of the year, I finally had to make the trip to Mexico with the rest of the pack. “Stiles, I’m going. You can’t stop me!” I attempted to open the passenger door of the jeep when he reached out and shut it from behind me.

“No, it’s going to be dangerous. We don’t even really know what we’re facing,” he tried reasoning with me. “I can protect myself,” I said, thinking of the training that Allison had given me. “Besides, I can’t just sit by and wait for you guys to come back. I need to try helping Scott.”

Realizing that I wasn’t going to back down, Stiles removed his hand from the side of the door and opened it for me. I nodded a quick thanks as I hopped into the vehicle.

I wasn’t expecting to fight Scott that day, but we all did in order to return him from his Berserker form. At the end of the fight, I had a few cuts and bruises, but nothing I couldn’t deal with.

As Derek drove away with Braedan, I could feel that things were changing. “I can’t write about any of this, can I?” I asked somewhat jokingly.

“Off the record,” Stiles replied from where he stood next to me.

“Stiles, what’s wrong?”

“Oh thank god, you remember me!” He said as he grabbed my hands. He’d been running down the hall frantically when I saw him.

I looked at him with concern on my face. “Yeah, of course I remember you? Why wouldn’t I–”

“y/n, it’s the Hunt. The Ghost Riders. I saw them, and now they’re coming for me.” He was breathing heavily, eyes sweeping the surroundings for signs of the Ghost Riders. His eyes locked on something to his left, but when I looked, I couldn’t see anything. “They’re here. We have to go,” he said, pulling me towards the parking lot. We got into his jeep, but he didn’t start the car. “Stiles, what are you doing?”

“It’s too late.” I could see the look of grief on his face. “No, don’t say that. It’s not–”

“It’s the truth,” he cut me off, turning to look at me. “Promise me you won’t forget.”

I shook my head. “I won’t. But Stiles, I can’t do this without you,” I could feel a tear escaping my eye and slipping down my cheek, my emotions getting the better of me.

Stiles reached forward and wiped the tear away before placing his hand on my cheek. “What do you mean? You’re one of the smartest, most inquisitive people I know. If I had to trust anyone to find a way to stop the Ghost Riders, it would be you.”

I couldn’t help but smile at his honesty. “Yeah right. Lydia will probably figure it out before me.”

He shook his head. “You can do it. I trust you.” I could tell there was more he wanted to say, but he turned to look at something through the window over his shoulder. “Can I tell you something? Off the record.”

I couldn’t help the laugh that escaped my mouth. “Yes, of course. What is it?”

He took a deep breath. “I don’t hate you. I know it may seem like I’ve never trusted you or that I don’t care about you, but it’s actually the opposite. I...really really like you,” he admitted.

I was stunned. Stiles likes me? He was searching my face for any indication of feelings as I sat there silently.

“Oh, shit,” Stiles mumbled. “Ok, forget I said that. Well, you won’t need to forget when you forget me in a minute–”

I cut off his rambling by placing my lips on his. They were warm and familiar, as if they were made for mine. “I like you too,” I mumbled when I disconnected, my eyes still closed from the interaction.

But when I opened them, I was alone in the baby blue jeep.

All semester, I’d felt that something was missing, but I couldn’t figure out what it was. Or who it was.

But after months of searching for it, we finally figured it out. Lydia had gone into a banshee trance to discover the word “Stiles,” and it brought back vague memories for me when I heard it. The feeling of soft flannel. A sarcastic laugh. Red string around my finger. A hefty wooden baseball bat.

The collection of memories made sense when we all finally got our memories back and remembered the person we were missing from our lives.

We traced the trail of clues to the sewers, where Scott tried to bring back Stiles because of their brotherly love for one another. I thought it would work, but the portal closed and Stiles hadn’t appeared. Come on, Stiles. Where are you?

We had to fight the Ghost Riders off, making sure they didn’t turn our beloved Beacon Hills into another ghost town. I’d run into the high school, looking for something to use as a weapon when I ran into someone in the hall. A tall, brown-haired figure wearing a flannel shirt. “Stiles?”

He turned, and smiles emerged on both of our faces. I broke into a run again, right into his arms. “I can’t believe you’re here. You’re really here.” I mumbled, the sound muffled against his shirt.

“I knew you could do it,” he said.

I pulled back slightly and looked up at his face, suddenly nervous. “That night in the jeep...did you hear what I told you before you disappeared?”

A soft smile rested on his face. “Of course I did. It was the one thing that kept me going, especially when I was stuck with Peter.”

“Peter Hale? Why the hell were you with Peter Hale?”

Stiles shook his head. “We can go over that later. For now, there’s one thing I’ve been wanting to do.” I was a little confused, but I understood once he leaned in and connected our lips.

This is what I’d been missing, and I was never going to let it go again.

I watched from afar as Stiles gave his trusty baseball bat to Mason, who didn’t seem to appreciate the hunk of wood.

“Have you told him yet?” Lydia asked as she appeared next to me.

I shook my head. “We haven’t really had time to talk about that stuff. I think he doesn’t really want to think about it just yet and what that might mean for us.”

She nudged me with her elbow, silently telling me to go over there and talk to him. Rolling my eyes, I walked towards the familiar blue jeep and familiar mess of brown hair.

Liam and Mason had already walked away, and Scott and Stiles were standing and talking at the jeep’s trunk. “Hey, y/n. I’m just heading out, but I’ll see you guys later,” Scott said as I came up and Stiles threw his arm around me.

We waved as Scott left, and Stiles pulled me closer. “Hey,” he said, looking down at me with an affectionate expression.

I pulled him over so we could sit in the open trunk. “We need to talk.” I could see the panic flare up in his eyes.

“Oh, um, okay? Is everything okay?”

Chuckling lightly, I nodded. “Yeah, we just haven’t talked about college at all,” I explained.

His head dropped. “Yeah, I know. I just don’t want it to ruin what we have here, and I don’t even know what life will be like outside of Beacon Hills, and I feel like we just got together and now–”

“Stiles,” I cut him off. “I’m going to GW too.”

His eyes widened at my confession. “You...you’re going to GW?”

I nodded, a small smile on my lips. “I committed a while ago. I’m going to study journalism there.”

I watched as a smile spread across his face. Then, it was replaced by a quick smirk. “Oh great, you’re following me there, huh? I just can’t seem to get rid of you.”

I shrugged. “What can I say? I’m going to need someone to give me the inside scoop on the FBI’s antics.”

He looked pensive for a moment. “I think what you’re describing is illegal.”

“Not if it’s in the public’s interest. But maybe it just needs to be off the record,” I admitted. Stiles laughed. “Oh, it’s definitely going to be off the record.”

#stiles stilinski #teen wolf #stiles stilinski fic #stiles stilinski x reader #scott mccall #lydia martin #allison argent #hot take: scott should have brought back stiles in 6b not lydia #teen wolf fanfiction #stiles stilinski imagine #stiles stilinski one shot #dylan obrien #isaac lahey #dylan o'brien

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dumbbitchenergy17 · 3 years

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Bringer of Chaos

With the reveal of you as the UA traitor, 1-A and the Pro Heroes now have to face the war coming to them. By the Bringer of Chaos.

Words- 6.6K

UA!Traitor x MHA, Tomura Shigaraki x Reader (Sibling Relationship)

Warnings: MAJOR Character death, violence, death, Stockholm syndrome, angst, and lots of sadness

A/N: For the readers quirk it’s chaos magic just like Scarlet Witch as well as hero costume. This isn’t a crossover making the reader Scarlet Witch, just that that quirk works for the story and I couldn’t think of any other villain costume. Anyways hope you all enjoy.

Was it fear that she felt.

All their eyes on her.

Heroes think they were in the right but how many people died by their hands. Why say you're a hero if you can’t save them all right?

You had always had a dangerous quirk when you were younger, both your parents were quirkless but when they had you, you had one. Chaos Magic is what they called it the ability to tap into and utilizes the chaotic forces of the universe, capable of warping, manipulating and/or reconstructing reality and probability as well as the very fabric of existence. They had no clue where it came from and from which side of the family passed it down. Two quirkless parents raising a child with a strong quirk, they had no clue what to do.

You were pulled out of school after your quirk had manifested and you made a stuffed animal bear come to life, scaring the class and teacher and forcing you to transform it back to a regular toy. With such a strong quirk your parents were afraid that you could hurt someone when your quirk grew stronger and you were homeschooled for the safety of you but mostly the safety of others.

Society deemed people without quirks useless and not successful, if you had one you better hope it was powerful and flashy or you wouldn’t be going anywhere with your life. When you were younger you looked up to heroes, they saved the day and kept everyone safe from the bad guys. You remembered sitting on the couch with your parents watching the news and seeing the heroes save the day and you would stand up and turn to your parents saying you would become a hero and save everyone. They would smile and tell you if you worked hard enough you would be the next number one hero. With your childhood you were happy everyone was safe, until they weren’t.

The police and heroes said there was nothing they could have done to save them, it was a break-in. They had shown up and slaughtered your parents leaving you there sitting in between their bleeding bodies alone. That was when you knew heroes couldn’t save everyone, the society they live among is corrupt. Heroes looking after popularity votes and looks instead of actually saving lives. Ironically there were others they had similar ideals as you did. You were passed around from foster home to foster home but, no one wanted to deal with a child whose quirk was too dangerous; they didn’t want a villain-like kid.

You were six when you ran away after another foster family sent you back after you had made the dog they had got as a welcoming gift disappear never to return. You kept running until your legs wouldn’t let you move anymore and that’s when he found you.

A portal had opened in the alleyway you had collapsed in and out came a man followed by a boy. The man wore a some sort of ventilator mask that covered the entire of his face and neck, next to him was a boy who had a disembodied hand covering his face. The man never told you his name just holding his hand telling you that you would be able to get revenge on the heroes. You grew to see him as your new father and the boy who told you his name was Tomura as a brother. He was a few years older than you but the time you spent together was when you were meeting father or him watching you train your quirk. Another person in your life when you joined what was now the League of Villains was Kurogiri, father was rarely around so he watched after you and Tomura, he taught you everything you would need to know.

When you joined UA you main goal was to bring down the hero society following after Tomura’s lead, him always reminding you that you would get your revenge. You played your part well not holding back when in fights against villains during the USJ, Kamino Ward, everything fell into place. With talk about the UA traitor within the teachers no one suspected the girl who seemed to have little hold on her quirk, but how wrong they were. All this led to now your former friends looking at you in fear and horror, when it was revealed you were the traitor.

You were completely surrounded by her former teachers standing around you ready to take you down and you kept your gaze on your class.

“Y/n don’t make this harder than it is, please just surrender.” Mr. Aizawa held his scarf in both hands ready to attack if you made any sudden moves.

“And if I don’t? Can you really stop me?” You glance at your teacher and he faltered slightly in his stance.

“You’re completely surrounded by pro heroes, so we can take you down.” Present Mic said making you smirk they have only seen what you showed at progression with your quirk. UA only knows the most you could do is change the integrity of a few objects, nothing on a large scale. They barely gave you time to react with Mr. Aizawa sends his capture weapon towards you to wrap it around you, activating his quirk making his hair rise up and float. The weapon goes straight to you half of it landing on the ground behind you.

You look at him with a bored expression, finding humor in him and the others' shocked expression. “Did you think it would be that easy?” You knelt grabbing the end of his capture weapon and he tries to use it but it doesn’t affect you. “What would a simple cloth feel like if it weighed more than that.” A red haze covers the cloth leading up to his neck and slams into the ground, the weight of the scarf alone slowly starts to suffocate him. Present Mic and Midnight rush to him trying to pry the scarf off him.

“Mr. Aizawa!” Class 1-A yells seeing their teacher struggle. Dropping the scarf from your end you look around at your teachers who know they can’t stop you and your classmates.

“Don’t think this is over,” You hear an explosion and someone running towards you, “You bastard get back here!” Bakugo yells, holding his hand out sending a huge explosion. The smoke clears and there is Bakugo panting out of breath looking around for you, but you’re nowhere to be found. The red haze surrounding Aizawa’s scarf disappears, sending him shooting upwards, throwing it off him as he coughs and wheezes. The 1-A and the Pros look to where you once stood, if that was just some of your power, they had no clue what was in store for them if you came back.

In an abandoned warehouse the league hears footsteps heading towards the room they were in. Each of them ready to fight and kill the intruder, the footsteps getting louder until it was right in front of the room.

“That’s funny thinking your quirks could stop me.” A familiar voice calls out through the door as they open it. You stand in front of them and they relax welcoming you in. Standing away from them was Tomura Shigaraki, he was scratching his neck frantically but stopped when he heard your voice. You walked closer to the man you saw as a mentor, as a brother. You stood next to him as he looked out the warehouse window showing the vast city that was part of Japan.

“Tomura...it’s time.”

With your reveal as the UA traitor the school was put on lockdown immediately once you left in fear you would return but not alone. Your face was plaster across the news worldwide ranking you as national alert. News articles found everything about you with your parent’s death, your disappearance from the orphanage to your life at UA. They speculated that you could be in correlation to the league which made you more of a threat, if you had connections to All for One or Tomura Shigaraki.

“Funny how one moment you were just a UA student, now you’re public enemy number one.” Spinner smirks, tossing you the latest newspaper that talked about you. You smirked as you made the newspaper disappear before it could hit you and reappear behind Spinner hitting him in the back of the head.

“They say the same crap as always, not my fault heroes don’t know how to do their jobs.” You go back to laying on the couch closing your eyes, blocking out the noise of the villains around you. You hear the door open and footsteps bounding towards you jumping on the couch crushing you under their weight.

“Y/nnnnnn I missed you so much when you were gone. It’s boring being the only girl here with Mange gone and you always at UA.” Toga wraps her arms around you squeezing the living life out of you.

“Toga if you don’t let me go, I swear I will turn you into a bug.” You open one eye glaring at her and she sighs getting off you mumbling under her breath.

“How much longer do we have to keep waiting we’ve been in this stupid warehouse for the past week.” Dabi said, kicking a can away from where he was standing.

“Yeah I wanna fight, no let’s relax.” Twice responses, god they were annoying as hell.

You huff sitting up look at them, “When Tomura says he’s ready we’ll go until then shut up and let me rest.”

“And why should we listen to what you have to say, you’re younger than any of us.” Dabi gets up in your face and you clench your jaw waiting for him to do something.

“You should watch what you say next, we know who could win in this fight.” You stand both of you up in each other's face.

“Yeah what are you gonna do about it, huh” He smirks and he goes to speak again but his breath hitches as he grabs his throat.

“What’s the problem Dabi? Have something to say?” He falls to his knees as he tries to breath but is unable to. “You feel that right your lungs are failing on you, do you know how easy it is to kill you right now.” You squat in front of him grabbing his face, your hand covered in a red haze when you use your quirk.

“You made your point Y/n stop it.” Toga grabs your shoulder.

“No, he seems like he has something to say right, Dabi.” Tears fill his eyes as he is practically blue in the face.

“That’s enough Y/n.” Tomura calls out and you stop using your quirk as him and Mr. Compress enter the room. Dabi sucks in air coughing profusely Twice, Toga, and Spinner goes to his aid as he regulates his breath lightheaded from the rush of new oxygen. “You all act like children.” Tomura says walking past you all going to the window looking out to the city.

“Whatever.” You roll your eyes sitting back on the couch. “The Nomus are ready, my army is ready.” He turns to look at you all. “You all know what you have to do, so get to it.” He says and they all leave, Dabi walking past you glaring at you with you glaring back. Leaving only the two of you left in the room, you stand next to him as you both look at the calm city that will be thrown into chaos.

“Father would be proud of you Tomura.” You place your hand on his shoulder and he nods.

“You know what to do, you are the biggest piece in the puzzle. You know UA in and out, give them hell.” You nod looking at the man you see as family, the calm before the storm.

“I’ll see you on the other side Tomura.”

The van you were in stopped a few blocks away and you climbed out of it looking back at the villains sitting in it. “Don’t fuck it up Y/n.” Dabi says and you smirk. “You just do your job.” The clothes you were wearing transform into your old school uniform. The league drives away leaving you to walk the rest to UA, they would have no clue what hit them.

With your disappearance UA had been hesitant but continued school as normal, with the dorms they had up campus security and included a strict curfew for the safety of the students. Many students were surprised when they heard that you were the traitor while others found it ironic that someone from 1-A the hero course was actually a villain. 1-A atmosphere had definitely change since the reveal, some were easier at coming to peace that who they thought was their friend was actually a traitor while others still couldn’t believe it. The class seemed dull with you gone. You had put on a convincing performance, actually forming friendships with your classmates some seeing you as family which broke them even more. Midoriya lost some sort of sparkle since you had left, he saw you as one of his closest friends and felt like this seemed like his fault why didn’t he see the signs. Your curiosity for everyone’s quirk specifically his, you seemed to have a love for heroes and he had shown you his notebook with list upon list of everyone with their quirks and their strength and weakness. He let her get exactly what she needed that would affect heroes and the students because he saw her as a friend.

Mr. Aizawa went on about the lesson but Izuku drowned out most of his talking his gaze to the window showing the walkway to the front of the school. Every few minutes he could see cars driving past the entrance, but what caught his eye was someone walking down the path that led to the building. From this distance he couldn’t make out a face but they were a student from the uniform, but why were they there? It was already the middle of the school day and they should be in class. As if his questions were answered an alarm went off shocking the students

“Intruder alert! Please evacuate the building. Intruder alert!” The intercoms repeat as the alarm continues.

Everyone is grabbing their bags, “It’s probably just the press like last time.” Kirishima says as they get ready to leave, but Midoriya is still locked onto the figure walking to the building, they had no school bag and didn’t seem like they were in a hurry as they got closer. Whoever was walking looked up towards the building and Midoriya felt ice enter his veins seeing their face.

“Hey Deku come on we have to go.” Uraraka grabs his arm to pull him away from the window but he is frozen in shock and fear. His classmates look at him confused at his unnaturally pale face.

“Deku you idiot we have to leave.” Bakugo yells at him standing at the door where Mr. Aizawa was waiting impatiently as they needed to evacuate as a group.

“She’s here.” Midoriya said, and the class had a pretty good idea who “she” was.

“None of you leave this classroom, you got it.” Mr. Aizawa pushed them back in, closing the door, locking it and rushing to go to the other teachers leaving 1-A locked in the class unable to do anything but watch out the window.

“This is crazy, why is she back?” Kaminari said as they all tried to look out the window to see you.

“Whatever reason the Pros will stop her.” Ida said having faith in the heroes.

“You saw what she did last time she was here she almost killed Mr. Aizawa!” Mineta cried out.

“If it’s a fight that’s coming I’m not gonna sit around and wait for her to get here. Where’s the button to open our lockers” Bakugo yelled, going to Mr. Aizawa's desk looking for the button so they could get their hero costumes.

“That isn’t smart Kacchan we thought she wasn’t that advanced with her quirk but if she is that strong and involved with the league of villains we are ants compared to her.” Midoriya tried to reason with him.

“I think Bakugo is right,” Momo said which shocked most of the class, “We need to be logical with this, she’s back here for a reason, she wouldn't be coming back if she didn’t have a plan or someone specific she’s after. She is not our friend anymore right now she’s the enemy and if we want any chance of surviving this we can’t be on a lower level than her.” With Momo’s speech their thoughts were decided, they would have to prepare to fight if they wanted to come out of this alive.

You knew the Pros would be here any minute after you heard the alarm go off. You stood in front of the fountain waiting for them to arrive, you knew that this fight some people wouldn’t make it out but the heroes need to get the punishment they deserve. The loud screech from Present Mic when using his quirk could bring anyone down caused you to press your hands against your ears. You could endure this if it meant saving up energy for your quirk. You felt the capture weapon surround your body and the screaming stop and you collapsed to the ground.

“Ms. Y/n we weren’t expecting you to show up but it seems that we were still able to take you down.” You knew you couldn’t use your quirk unlike last time when that had been an illusion you just needed to wait.

“Funny Nezu you always think you're one step ahead.” You smirk looking up at the principal, “I know I’m always one step ahead.” You could smell the fire and there it was the blue flames growing from the forest.

“It’s the League of Villains!” Midnight gasped coming out of the forest were hordes of Nomus each with different quirks.

“You're sure you’re one step ahead?” You smirk and they knew you were just a decoy. The teachers outside had no choice but to deal with the Nomus heading towards the school and to where you were.

Leaving just Aizawa and Nezu to deal with you, “You are much smarter than I expected.” You shrugged and Aizawa tightened his weapon making you laugh

“I was told to give them hell.” With that you swept your foot out from under Nezu and Aizawa causing them both to jump back, with the split second it that Aizawa eyes closed you vanished from his binds. “Truly wonderful time seeing you again, but the fight has barely begun.” Aizawa doesn’t have time to fight you as he is attacked by a Nomu.

Nezu studies you and you stare back at him, “I don’t understand why you’ve done this but we will stop you.”

You grin “You heroes say that but we both know how this ends.” You disappeared from the battle leaving the teachers fighting the Nomus and the students inside defenseless against you.

“Where did she go?!” Sero said seeing you disappear from their view. With the doors locked they couldn’t leave so they stood in the classroom in their hero costumes waiting for the fight to come to them.

“We know that she’s with the league for all we know they could be in the building already and with the teachers outside we would open for an attack.” Midoriya said seeing you easily get captured only for you to be a decoy for the league to appear, it was genius.

“Midoriya, always thinking about the correct things, that was something I liked about you.” You said making the class turn from the window to where you were sitting on top of your desk in the back. “Great to see you all again.” You smiled and your classmates grimaced at you.

“You're a bitch you know that.” Bakugo hissed, making you frown.

“That hurts my feeling, Kacchan.” You hopped off your desk walking towards them, none of them moving when you stood in front of your classmates.

“You guys are smart putting on your costumes, cause out there seems like the final battle, but this is the beginning of the war.” You said and conveniently when you finished rumbling when through the building and loud explosions went off.

Out the window the view showed buildings away from UA erupting into flames explosions happening every few blocks. 1-A watched in horror that this is what she meant by war not just UA and the league, the entirety of villains and heroes battling it out; utter chaos. “With that we sadly won’t be needing you all. I say this as your former classmate and friend, stay the hell out of my way I don’t wanna hurt you.” The class doesn’t have time to fight back or anything when it feels like the ground is taking out from under them and they are warped away.

The teachers outside are struggling with Nomus keep showing up, suddenly they all freeze and walk away from the heroes heading to the building stopping in front of it as if they were guarding it. Aizawa wipes away the blood from his face “What the hell is this.” He sighs.

“Mr. Aizawa!” He hears his students yell out to him and sees them running towards him.

“What are you all doing here I told you to stay inside.” He scolds them

Ida steps up from the group, “It was Y/n she appeared in the class and then warped us all away, there were other students as well. I believe everyone in the building is now outside.” Aizawa looked back to the building that was guarded by Nomus.

“We don’t know why they would take the building but remove the students but we need to take headcount to see if everyone is actually outside. With what is happening in the city and here heroes are spread thin. This is exactly what they had planned but why go after UA and how is Y/n involved in all this.” The teachers didn’t deal with any problems with the league or Nomu they all just seemed to stop after the students were outside. Part of the forest that was destroyed by the flames was used as a base for heroes and students, everyone was outside not a single student was missing. Which put out the question of what they were after.

“Not a single student is missing, heroes from outside of Musutafu are coming in, but even then we don’t know how many villains or Nomus they might have.” Midnight told Nezu. Some of the teachers were together discussing their next plan while others were watching the students.

“We can assume that the League is in the building, we need to figure out a plan to fight them but also keep the students safe.” Aizawa said, looking over to where his class was.

“The only two people that have a decent amount of info on the league would be Aizawa and All Might.” Nezu said, “You had Y/n as a student though she never showed us the full potential of her quirk, you know her as a student. Whether her personality she showed to everyone was a lie, lies are built on truth. We need to remember she is still a child she could be manipulated to believe what she’s doing is right.” The teachers nodded, you were just a child that could be forced in the middle of this war, “Does anyone know where All Might we need some more information on the League.” The teachers looked at each other, no one had seen All Might at all. With him becoming quirkless because of Kamino he wasn’t outside when the heroes fought the Nomus. Then it hit the heroes, that’s what they were after.

“You think they figured out you are gone yet? All Might.” You asked, turning away from the window to where All Might sat tied up. “Think the new Symbol of Peace is going to be able to stop this.” You walked over to where he was and sat down in front of him.

“Y/n I don’t know why you’ve done this, but being with the League of Villains will not help you get what you want.” He tries to reason with you.

“What I want you can’t give, the next best thing is getting revenge on those who failed to save them.” You looked at the frail man sitting in front of you. “Do you know what it’s like losing everyone in your life? My parents died because you heroes failed to protect them. You call yourself a hero but you still fail to help those in need. I wanted to become a hero but my quirk was too dangerous for the public. I had no one when they died, no one wanted the girl whose quirk was literally chaos. They found me, took me in and raised me, they were the only ones who actually cared for me.” You said, tears forming in your eyes recalling your horrible childhood.

“They took you in because they saw your quirk. All for One only saw you as a pawn in his game, Shigaraki “raised” you so you would fight alongside him instead of against him.” All Might explained and you stood up, the chair behind you slamming against the floor.

“You’re wrong..they care for me.” You point your finger at him proving to him but he could see that you were doubting yourself.

“They’re using you Y/n what you are doing is leading you down a path that you can’t turn back from.” You turned away from him looking out the window seeing the Pros standing on the pathway, waiting for the fight to begin.

You could see heroes all around Japan here ready to fight, you could also see UA students ready to fight including 1-A. “Those idiots.” You mumbled. “This is the end for heroes All Might, I will get my revenge.” You exit the room walking down the hallway to the main conference room where the League was waiting as well as villains from all over Japan.

Tomura looks at you and you nod telling him you're ready, “Our time for hiding in the shadows is over, the reign of heroes will end today.” The villains cheer rushing out going to fight the heroes. You don’t move as villains pass by you including members of the League leaving as well. You feel a hand on your shoulder making you look up, “Are you alright?” Tomura asks and you nod, the sick feeling still in your stomach from what All Might said to you.

“Tomura...I’m not a pawn in all this.” You knew that you were needed in getting your revenge that’s what father told you, but were you expendable if need be.

“You are the one that is going to change the future, a bringer of chaos, Master will be proud of us both.” Tomura said and you felt the tension in you loosen a bit, “You be safe okay Tomura.” He doesn’t say anything just nodded and left you alone. What you were doing was right, the path you were following was dark but was the right one.

The showdown between villains and heroes as they stood on opposite sides neither moving yet. “We have visuals on Shigaraki and other members of the League, no visual of Y/l/n.” Aizawa heard through the comm links everyone was given, there were four squads made, squad 1 deals with underground villains, squad 2 deals with the Nomus surrounding the building, squad 3 will deal with the League and Y/n if she shows up on the field, and squad 4 will being helping in the rescue of All Might. Most of the top Pros were involved in squad 2 and 3 while lesser heroes dealt with the lesser villains and the All Might rescue.

“How long are they going to keep standing here, either fight or surrender.” Endeavor said looking at the villains standing there waiting.

“Everyone behind us!” The heroes turned and there was Y/n with villains behind her as well as a few Nomus.

“It’s an ambush!” Aizawa yells and the villains on both sides rush to attack the heroes in the middle. The thundering footsteps rush past you as they attack heroes in front of you, with your entrance on the field you disappear appearing back in the room where All Might was in.

From the window you could see Villains and heroes fought for their lives, many getting injured, some fatally wounded. “You see this All Might, heroes and villains together fighting for their lives, where’s the peace now. There is only chaos.” You glanced behind you looking at the former Pro before turning back to watch the fight.

“I’m sorry.” You hear All Might say, “I’m sorry we couldn’t save your parents, you don’t deserve to have all this hate and sadness in your life.”

You froze staring down watching your comrades and allies being hurt and your former friends and mentors dying due to your goals. “I wanted to help people. I wanted to be the kind of hero that saves everyone so no one is alone in their life. You can’t save me All Might you said so yourself I’m too far down this path to be saved.” You turn to him and he sees glimpses of the person you were in school, a curious girl with a strong quirk ready to help anyone in her class. You were just a child but you have had more problems than anyone has dealt with in a lifetime.

“We can help you, just help us stop this, we can get you the life you always wanted.” All Might pulled against the restraints pleading to you.

“We both know how this fight ends, I’m never going to get that happy ending.” You turned around to look back at the fight when you saw the door entering the room was slightly open. “Smart All Might, distract me with some sappy excuse so the heroes could get in and save you. Who’s here, someone who could be invisible, Hagakure or Asui I know you were working on camouflage with your quirk.” You call out a red haze surrounding your hands ready to fight the intruder. You have no time to react when the window you were standing in front of shatters due to an explosion, another being sent to you sending you flying across the room. You hit the wall, denting it slightly, looking up to see Bakugo, Midoriya, Todoroki, as well some heroes and other students from other classes. “You’re all so good, coming to save him it’s pathetic.” You spit out blood that pooled in your mouth.

“Fight then, though a school uniform wouldn’t be the best suited for this.” Bakugo smirks looking at the uniform you were still in. You smirk getting up groaning slightly from how hard you hit the wall.

“Let’s change into something more suitable.” You slowly walk to them your outfit changing as a red haze starts from your feet changing your clothes. You now wore a red chestplate with angular faulds extending into an ankle-length skirt, elbow-length red fingerless gloves, black trousers and thigh-high boots, and an intricate red crown.

“You had to ask.” Todoroki looks over to Bakugo. Bakugo rushes towards you sending an explosion at your face but it fazes right through you.

“Gonna have to try harder then that.” You laugh now on the other side of the room holding All Might in your grasp blasting the people by him away. A blast of ice is sent to you but you dodge out of the way, with the ice distracting you. Midoriya punches you in the gut sending you flying out of the building down to where the fight was. Bakugo jumps out of the building grabbing onto you using his other hand to send an explosion sending you both shooting straight into the ground making a small crater.

Bakugo hears a groan and smirks, “Not that quick are you..” The dust clears out and Bakugo is shocked to see Midoriya underneath him instead of you. “How the hell did she.” He gets up pulling up Midoriya who holds his ribs in pain. “Where the hell did she go.” He looks around at the fighting around him not given much time to think as villains attack him.

You smirk running through the fight trying to find Tomura even if they were able to rescue All Might the heroes had just as many casualties then you did. You see Tomura disintegrate someone's arm pushing them away, but you could see he was getting overwhelmed with many Pros after him. You rush towards him but a wall of orange flames blocks you from reaching him. You turn to see who sent the flames and there was the number one hero Endeavor.

“You killed innocent people.” He says making his way towards you.

“I’m reshaping the future” You get ready to fight and Endeavor sends a blast of fire towards you and you could feel the heat from the blast. Before it could hit you blue flames appear blocking the attack.

“Go we both have our jobs.” You see Dabi standing in front of you, the flames growing in both men’s hands, both him and Endeavor ready to fight. You nodded running off to Tomura, Dabi can handle himself, like he said we each had our own jobs. You see Snipe aiming his gun towards Tomura and you stand in front of him. The bullets float in midair and you send them flying back in different directions. Some hitting heroes, others hitting villains you couldn’t care as long as Tomura was safe.

“They got All Might, what now.” You stand back to back with him using your quirk to break heroes bones, sending people flying across the field.

“Get the league here we leave now.” He answers, pressing his hand on a hero's face instantly disintegrating them. You spread your hands out closing your eyes, getting a picture of each member on the field and warping them to your location.

“That was a weird feeling.” Toga giggles, throwing a knife into someone’s leg.

“Time to go now.” Tomura says.

You hold your hands out and a portal opens up in front of you. Villains that are close to the portal rush to it as they don’t want to be left behind, and the heroes see this and rush to stop you all.

“You guys go, I can handle them.” You sent a wave of energy towards the heroes nearby, sending them back. “See I got thi-”

You heard it before you felt it. In all the noise and chaos happening around you it’s funny how this small noise from far away you heard. Maybe your quirk knew what was going to happen and in some sick way warned you knowing you wouldn’t be fast enough to stop it. Two sharp pains went through your body and you jolted a bit when they hit you. Why did it suddenly feel like everything was in slow motion, why was it hard to breath, god why is everything so quiet.

You look over at the League and you see Toga screaming but being held back by Mr. Compress, Spinner was standing there shocked looking at you, and Twice and Dabi were holding Tomura back as he struggled in their grasp screaming your name. All this was happening but it was quiet. You look down at your costume and you see two bullet holes blood staining it, one in your chest where your heart is the other in your stomach. Time sped up and the noise returned as you fell to your knees coughing out blood.

“Y/N! NO LET ME GO!” You hear Tomura scream, you hold out your hand.

“Go!” You wheeze, grabbing your chest as you cough up more blood. You look at each of them taking in an image of them as Mr. Compress pulls Toga through the portal, Spinner following after him, you see Tomura still struggling trying to get to you. You make eye contact with Dabi and just nod and he gives you a solemn one back using all his and Twice’s strength to pull Tomura through. You look at Tomura and smile, you would see each other some day.

“Tomura you look after me just like a big brother does! That’s what Kurogiri told me when I asked him.” A younger version of you smiles up to Tomura and he looks at you kneeling down to your height.

“I’ll always be with you and protect you.” He placed his hand on your head making sure to keep one finger up. You smile and giggle hugging him tightly burying your face in your chest.

“Thanks Tomura.”

With the last amount of strength left in you, you wave your hand closing the portal once Tomura has completely disappeared. You feel your weight shift unable to keep yourself up on your knees and fall to the ground. You saw green lightning and they caught you before you hit the ground. You see Midoriya’s face above you yelling out to someone but you're focused on the sky and how you could see the colors change as it almost reaches sunset.

“Hey come on stay awake help is on the way just stay awake.” You see his tear filled eyes stare down at you.

“Why..I’m a bad guy.” You wheeze and he laughs, tears filling his eyes.

“No one is ever truly bad.” You smile looking back towards the sky, “Hey come on don’t give up on me.”

You hear footsteps run up and it’s Aizawa and All Might. “Come on Midoriya.” Aizawa goes to pull him away but you grab Izuku’s arm.

“Please don’t leave me.” You whimper, tears filling your eyes. Izuku nods with tears in his eyes falling. “You heroes...always see the good.. in others...it’s nice.” You smile looking up at the sky and a tear slides down your face, and you wince feeling the sharpness in your chest. “I don’t wanna die.” You cry and that breaks the heroes standing in front of you.

“Your not going to help is going to be here any minute.” Aizawa reassures you and nods.

“The sky it’s pretty…tell them I’m sorry.” You cough your breathing getting more shallow and faint and you could swear you saw two figures standing above you. “momma... papa.”

She felt fear at first but it was inner peace as you saw a bright light.

Midoriya looks down ready to comfort you to tell you that help is coming, but stops when he sees you. Your gaze is on the sky, your eyes blank, a small smile on your face finally at peace.

Izuku lets out an anguish cry when he sees your chest not rising anymore. He cries for many reasons, the pain you went through to make you a villain, the hate you must have felt fighting your former friends, and him and all the heroes failing you.

The battlefield was silent as they looked at the young boy holding her body, many heroes felt guilt ebb at them for letting a misguided child die due to this life. Students from UA are lost at words from the loss of a former friend and student, they never expected this to come this far. Students from 1-A cry, seeing their classmate hold the body of their former classmate. Teachers and heroes that knew her look away not wanting to see her body in fear they would fall apart or cry in front of others.

This day would be remembered for years to come as the day the heroes failed at saving one girl that needed the most saving.

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