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#When they said “we will have more Team Wings content” they meant it
meganechan05 · 1 year
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Team Wings in a nutshell
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And Rita would low-key be tempted to tease Morfonia with the swap, but has to refrain themself in the name of Absolute Neutrality.
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josnhoes · 1 year
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Not sure if my request went through but I’ll ask anyways. Can I request a vigilante!reader? I honestly don’t care about the gender. The reader is younger than Tim but older than Damian. They’re super smart and do tons of martial arts and just a total badass. the batfam has been trying to catch them for a couple of months since the reader been stealing their missions. So one day when the reader is stopping a drug deal and was about to leave. Night wing and robin (Damian) jump in front of them. They have a fight and Damian manages to knock them out. They take the reader back to the bat cave and put them in a cell or something, and like interrogate them. So they find out that the reader is a kid, orphan and knows their secret identities because like I said, they’re super smart. Bruce sees the potential and gives them a option. Ether be adopted by him or go to jail. Reader and Damian are against the idea but the reader has no choice but to agree?
Kinda got rid of the no choice thing. Since this is non-yandere, Batman isn't the type to force this or actually have reader arrested.
Content warnings: none aside mentions of canon style violence and crimes.
You never thought the Bat would stoop so low. Threatening you with jail time as if *he* and his not so little brood didn't do the same things you did. Vigilantism was a crime but yet there were sanctioned heros too! What you were doing wasn't any different from them. Would he have superman arrested if it was the same situation?
"This is bullshit Bruce." You glared. "Why have me arrested when I've been fucking *helping* you?" Normally you didn't curse so much but you were angry and handcuffed so you couldn't exactly lash out any other way.
He knew you knew who he and his brood were. You'd made that known as soon as you woke up threatening to release the information with proof if he didn't let you go. Which just made him want to help you more. As angry as you were, you were just a kid. A teen with no family who had so much potential, "It's because you were helping that I haven't turned you in yet."
Damien knew his father was bluffing. Bruce was not the type to get someone arrested over this behaivor. No he was more likely to have you leave Gotham or send you to work with a group to learn. "Father let us be done with this. Send them on their way. We don't *need* anyone else on the team nor in the manner. And *clearly* they don't wish to be here." Really Damien didn't want someone taking his place on the team. He was the blood son and the rightful Robin!
"Listen to him, I don't know what crawled up your batty butt; but this isn't fucking cool." You glare felt impressive but the two watching you could only picture a feral kitten hissing.
Bruce relented uncuffing you, "You have potential. If you change your mind and want a place to be taught and call home you know where I am." The fact it had been a bluff now painfully obvious to you.
"Don't count on it old man. I... I won't actually leak you and your family's identities." The second sentence was quieter as you left the cave.
Damien glared at your back as you left, "Father are you certain about this? They're a liability."
"No Damien I don't think they are." Brice hoped eventually you'd join him and the family until then he'd have the team looking after you where he could. Maybe you'd do better with Jason? Regardless he had work to do and was choosing to ignore the way his son was pouting....he meant glaring.
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emptydoorways · 4 days
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 𝄞 EMPTY DOORWAYS „
  + brand new look, same great taste!
i. about me⠀|⠀ii. tags⠀|⠀iii. socials
iv. my fandoms⠀|⠀v. frequent fronters
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 ♪  i. ABOUT ME ... hello! i'm henry (it/he), and i'm the guy who runs the blog and also am the host of the system. we don't have time to get into all that, though.
i'm primarily an artist, but i also occasionally mess around with text posts and edits, and i write on the side. it's gonna be a mixed bag with my content, so be ready!
i'm also liable to just... post things. like random thoughts or headcanons or character analysis and sometimes just absolutely incompressible nonsense. so if you see me on your dash with posts that read like i'm standing in front of a corkboard with pins and red string, this is your fair warning.
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 ♪  ii. TAGS ... to make navigating my block a little bit easier, here's a list of tags i use and what they're for!
 ♩  #doorways art ... for finished pieces, or works with more effort put into them.
 ♫  #doorways doodles ... for wips, or just silly little doodles.
 ♩  #doorways writing ... for snippets of fics, or links to entire works (AO3 only).
 ♫  #doorways asks ... every post that is me responding to an ask will have this tag.
 ♩  #doorways chats ... this is what i'll post things like headcanons, random thoughts, etc.
 ♫  #doorways reblogs ... what it says on the tin, i'll put this tag on anything i reblog from anyone else.
 ♩  #doorways drafts ... they probably should have stayed in drafts, but...
 ♫  #ace attorney new leaf ... for the silly little au in which everything is generally the exact same, but they're all silly little animals, in a sort of aggretsuko or animal crossing way.
 ♩  #objection is magic ... ace attorney, but if they were my little ponies. i might not post about this much, but if i do... you're welcome? i guess?
 ♫  #twitch attorney ... for the collab au between me and a friend that's ace attorney, but they're all minecraft twitch streamers.
 ♩  #ventureverse ... an original cast based in an mlp G4 adjacent universe, that's meant to have a more dnd-like plot than anything.
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 ♪  iii. SOCIALS ... this one will be short, this is just gonna compile all my socials and important links into one short place. ps, my side blog for reblogs and misc stuff is @emptierdoorways!!
 ♩  socials ... discord , twitter , tiktok , ao3
 ♫  links ... rentry , carrd , shop
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 ♪  iv. MY FANDOMS ... another quick one! this one is mostly important so you can know what you'll see my post about. i'll almost exclusively post about the first two, but anything after is a general possibility you may see on my blog. main ones are bolded!
 ♩  spinterests ... ace attorney, pokémon, my little pony, vocaloid, dying light
 ♫  hyperfixes ... cookie run, resident evil... other things?
 ♩  shows ... arcane, good omens, sweet tooth, inside job, our flag means death, be and puppycat
 ♫  games ... ddlc, danganronpa, fnaf, undertale/deltarune, the sims, rhythm games (generally), wobbledogs
 ♩  music ... will wood, mitski, adrianne lenker, phoebe bridgers, weird al, ewao, modern baseball, the front bottoms, glass beach, mcr, +more
 ♫  misc ... wings of fire, mcyt (very select few cc)
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 ♪  v. FREQUENT FRONTERS ... hey, remember when i said we didn't have time to get into all of that right now? guess what! now we do! we're getting into it now. we're a p-did system and these are our frequent fronters, their pronouns, their role, and their signoff. which may or may not be important, but just in case.
 ♩  henry (me) ... host, it/he — n/a
 ♫  charlie ... idk, he/they/it — 🦠
 ♩  edward ... private role, he/it — <?>
 ♫  klein ... the gay one?, he/she — 🗯️
 ♩  kristoph ... protector, he/him — 🎻
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 ♪  vi. FIN ... and that's a wrap! thanks for tagging along for this obnoxiously long intro post. i'll see you around! ta-ta!
        — emptydoorways 𖹭
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stillness-in-green · 1 year
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Chapter Thoughts — Chapter 383: Meek Spirits
Pre-cut Positivity—
O Rule and Mount Lady are a fantastic team-up.  Mount Lady is, in general, pretty boss this week.  I want to combine this and my last fandom and give her Barbatos’s mace-chan.  I also have to admire her exercise routine, given that winging around a solid metal wrench as wide as your leg and almost as tall as you are must take considerably more strength than e.g. wielding a similarly sized spear or club made mostly of wood.[1]
O The effects of Mina's efforts on her appearance are neat. The way the blacks of her eyes melt off??  I wonder if Curious’s could do that too, under the right circumstances.  Also, her horns extending out is a cool look, one that I don’t recall ever seeing before.  I wondered briefly if it was meant to represent a quirk evolution like Koda growing in that horn, but Mina’s seem to go kind of droopy afterward, so I don’t know if they’ll be permanently different in shape the way his seems to be.
Hit the jump for the rest. Note that I have seen the leaks, but I’m leaving the writing below as written pre-leaks, if only because I am very much going to want an accurate translation before I start talking in-depth about the Machia content in 385.
On Gigantomachia and the Limits of Emergency Situation Excuses—
The bit about Machia embodying “pure psychological scarring” is very…  Like, guys, That Is A Person.  He is not a symbol, not a metaphor.  He is a human being.  Apart from being a bad look in general, it's especially bonkers to dehumanize Machia in this specific fashion—“From the standpoint of ordinary people”—when the first thing the heroes’ do upon bringing Machia, the soul-numbingly terrifying symbol of everyday peoples’ trauma, under their control is to—stampede him fifty miles back across the landscape over the same path he took before?  What are they going to do, stop to yell at everyone they see between here and Jakku not to worry, he’s working under hero auspices now, please refrain from having any PTSD-induced panic attacks!
As I said last time, turning Machia against his own is the sort of thing trial-at-the-Hague war crimes are made of, or would be if this were an international conflict.  What’s even more maddening is the stench of double standard hanging over it: when Spinner turns up intending to rescue his ally use a mentally conditioned victim as a tool, he got a moralistic scolding from Mic about how “that guy ain’t gonna be your ace in the hole.”  But as soon as the heroes find themselves in a tight spot, all concerns about not using mentally conditioned victims as aces in the hole go right out the window.
The only difference between Kurogiri and Gigantomachia that matters in this context is that the person Kurogiri was pre-mental conditioning was friends with a hero, whereas Machia, so far as we know, has always been loyal to AFO.  That’s it.  If Machia had been best school buddies with e.g. Ryukyu, we would never have seen him used like this; the heroes would never have even thought about it.  We even know that’s the case because the heroes could just as easily have had Shinsou brainwash Kurogiri to open all the portals they needed to kick off this combat; instead, they had Monoma copy the Warp Gate quirk and use it under his own power.
Kurogiri is not to be used as a tool.  Eri is not to be used as a tool.  But Machia?  Break out the psychic hammer and tongs and start beating him into shape; the heroes have lots of uses for him.
I know there’s a measure of shrugging and saying desperate times call for desperate measures out there on this topic, and, indeed, that’s the way Kirishima and Tsukauchi both frame this—a back-up plan, a massive gamble.  But the heroes of BNHA are not just any sort of protagonists; they’re called, by both the narrative and as an in-universe job title, heroes.  That carries a connotation of ideal, of role model, of a character/person viewed as worthy of admiration and acclaim for their nobility and courage even under duress.
@robotlesbianjavert reminded me of a quote by Rich Burlew, author of the webcomic The Order of the Stick, that really encapsulates my problem with the heroes’ tactics and the big shrug those tactics elicit from certain portions of the fandom.
Burlew said, “Being heroic often means rejecting some tactical options that, while potentially effective, violate your personal moral beliefs.” While he was talking in the context of D&D characters with specific moral alignments, I feel it’s applicable when it comes to superhero comics, as well. Certainly it's a plot that comes up with marked frequency in the U.S. comics Horikoshi draws so much of his heroic iconography from.[2]
If I may use a more widely recognized sentiment, “The ends don’t justify the means.”  That’s the issue with the calls the heroes keep making, over and over again.  They condone things being done to their enemies that they would never condone in any other context.  This isn’t admirable Plus Ultra determination; it isn’t heroic.  It’s pessimistic and inconstant, useful only for securing short-term victories.
By all means, that’s a valid story to tell, and heck, sometimes the short-term victory is all you can get, so you do what it takes to get it.  That’s true in real life, too.  Certainly, if the narrative just wanted its leads to be able to do whatever it takes to get the job done, it could have framed them as being harshly pragmatic, doing whatever it takes to get the job done, dirtying their hands and making hard, uncomfortable decisions in order to keep people safe.  That’s the bread and butter of spy dramas and political thrillers! Heroism, however, especially in the sense of cape comic imagery and tropes that Horikoshi is using, requires harder decisions still.
A hero is someone who doesn’t take the easy way out.  They not only have to get things done, but they have to get things done in a way that doesn't betray the ideals they uphold. That means they don’t get to use villainous tactics and still call themselves heroes.  They certainly don’t get to castigate their enemies for their methods and then turn around and use those same methods themselves.
(More on this next time.)
Moments with Mina—
You know, I thought it was a little weird, back in the Class A vs. Deku fight(‘s aftermath), that Kirishima’s “thing” he tells Deku is that he saw the news story about some kid facing the Sludge Villain.  It felt so out-of-left-field, so random—surely there could have been something more relevant to Kirishima than a callback to the Sludge Villain that he had never once indicated he knew about?  But now I wonder if the selection wasn’t about Kirishima in that moment, but rather, undercooked set-up for this one.  Bringing the Sludge Villain back here instead of any place he might confront a character he faced before just felt like such a non-sequitur, but with the earlier setting, at least there’s that tiny bit of connection.  Save that it doesn’t come to anything here, either—I don’t even get the impression Kirishima recognizes him?
Instead, we get a moment for Mina, and—it leaves a bit to be desired, I’m very sorry to say.
O Firstly, okay, Mina failed against Machia before—froze up when she recognized his voice and had a brief, vivid flashback to the fear she felt when she first crossed paths with him.  Yet here, when she comes up against him again, he’s basically incidental to her.  Which, yeah, I guess you could say is progress—she’s come so far she saves Mount Lady from Machia as an afterthought.  On the other hand, though, we’re deprived of a big moment of her facing the fear she failed against before—which Kirishima got!—and instead get her taking out the Sludge Villain, with whom she has no prior interaction, to save Shinsou, so Shinsou can stop Machia.
Not only does her action, then, come down to another example of a girl’s action being crucial to enable and support a boy’s more decisive action, but she even credits it to the training she got from two boys—Bakugou and Shouto—rather than her own efforts.[3]
O Mina being the one to talk about Midnight continues to feel a little strange.  Midnight never had a close-close relationship with any of the students, but surely both Momo and Mineta had more significant moments?  And Momo’s not here; she’s being criminally wasted on the Sky Coffin battle.  Mineta certainly is here, though, and he gets a sum total of bupkis to say or do when faced with Midnight’s killer.
O I wish I didn’t find Hose Face’s writing this week so overwhelmingly exhausting (more on that shortly), because Mina’s line to him about heroes and villains both finding strength in numbers is interesting on its own merits and would be even more so if it weren't being wasted on such a flat caricature.
It has echos of things like Jeanist calling heroes and villains two sides of the same coin and Spinner spitefully accusing the MLA of being the same as him (bandwagon jumpers).  It’s also somewhat ahistorical in the sense that the story alludes a few times to the fact that groups of villains were fairly rare prior to the rise of the League of Villains/the fall of All Might.  Hero teams were likewise uncommon until they had to start banding together to fill the gap All Might left.  The MLA has certainly been cultivating strength in numbers for generations, but it’s still a pretty new thing to both “sides” of the conflict Mina’s talking about.
Anyway, it’s interesting, but I wish I knew where it was coming from.  The closest Mina’s ever been to facing the humanity of her enemies is keeping Shouto company in the wake of the Dabi reveal.  There’s Aoyama, too, of course, but there’s been no collective effort made to extend the class’s experience with Aoyama—forced into “villainy” against his will—to empathy about other villains they don’t know personally.  So wherefore this sudden empathy with villains looking for closeness with like-minded people?
O My final issue with Mina’s big proclamation is that it carries zero weight for her to disavow revenge when she’s never been shown to have a vengeful personality.  Mina’s cheerful!  She’s upbeat!  She doesn’t hold onto anger; she doesn’t brood; she’s extremely well-adjusted in that she cries when she needs to, to get it out of her system, and then she bounces back.
If Mina had been shown to have a particular fondness for Midnight,[4] then maybe I could buy her having to struggle with a darker turn.  In the story we have, though, she lacks both: she has no personal connection to Midnight more significant than “teacher whose classes I enjoyed,” nor did the story spend even a breath of time prior to this on Mina struggling to cope with Midnight’s death.
It’s the same issue I have with, say, Deku’s “mad drive to save.”  I can’t accept the characterization of Deku’s saving instinct as so intense it’s like a form of madness when the story continually fails to treat that instinct as in any way aberrant or alien to the people around him.  Likewise, I can’t applaud Mina for overcoming her rage or desire for revenge when the story never portrayed her wrestling with either.
Way to keep forcing Shouji to be the model minority for everyone else, though.
Hose Face and the Incongruous Belief Set
The PLF material this week is mostly just sigh-inducing and difficult to muster up much enthusiasm for discussing.  To recap, though, the members of the erstwhile MLA are taking every opportunity in this second war arc to double down on quirk supremacy despite tiny little issues like the fact that a great many ranking officers and members of high command have quirks that aren’t suited to getting them ahead in a society built around quirk supremacy. 
I mean, really.  Here’re some impromptu categories and characters that fit them:
Good but unrelated to the function they actually serve in the organization/plot:
o Skeptic – Makes active use of his puppets exactly once; otherwise does nothing that isn’t connected to electronics. o Curious – Quirk has combat applications, but they have little to no relevance to her day job of running the MLA’s propaganda arm.
Okay but not so impressive that you’d think they’d have what it takes to rise to high positions in the society they themselves profess to want:
o Hose Face – His emittance lets him float, and does—what else, exactly?  It’s clearly not lethal to the touch, given that he uses it to float a bunch of his allies, so at best, I can see it giving him a bit of extra punch if he boosts his attacks with it.  Not all that impressive or stand-out compared to things that hit harder or are more versatile. o Galvanize (Taser Dude) – Lightning is a great quirk, except for the fact that elemental quirks seem to be relatively common, so you’d be up against every other asshole in your town that has the same power as you but with some barely more than cosmetic variation.  Hard to make a name for yourself that way!
Just kind of whatever:
o Slidin’ Go – If he were getting as much mileage out of a slip-and-slide quirk as e.g. Captain Celebrity or The Crawler, he’d be more famous and recognizable instead of being basically a joke. o Brand (Pinstripe Shark)– If his quirk is so impressive, why does he bring a katana to the battlefield with him? o Scarecrow and Nimble - Are their heteromorphic appearances all they have going for them?  If not, we sure didn’t see them do anything else, even in the middle of pitched combat. 
Functionally useless in an every-man-for-himself world:
o Trumpet – If he had to live in a dog-eat-dog world where only the strength of one’s own quirk, zero other factors, determined who got ahead, he might as well be quirkless.
There are other issues, of course, but another one that’s on display this week is how quirk supremacy is nowhere to be found in the words of Destro or Re-Destro.  Nowhere in any line Rikiya has ever spoken, even in the privacy of his own mind, has Might Makes Right-style quirk supremacy been in evidence; he has unfailingly thought of nothing but liberation and building a better, freer world.  Here this week, Hose Face’s flashback entails a memory of Re-Destro calling himself and whatever audience he's speaking to comrades, equals, “one and the same.”  What part of your supreme leader calling himself and you equals is in accordance with the law of the jungle?
Seriously, guys, if the MLA were actually supposed to have believed all this in such a heavy-handed way all along, why was Geten[5] the only one who actually brought it up during MVA?  MVA is the arc that introduced the CRC; surely Hori wasn’t worried about the League fighting a bunch of violent extremists!  Or is it rather that he didn’t want to show the League allying with a bunch of violent extremists, so he downplayed the truth as much as he could?
Is it doublethink/groupthink, a cult-enforced unwillingness to ask logical questions if they run you into trouble with the dogma?  Is Hori just simplifying them because he’s rushing the ending and doesn’t have time to resolve their plot lines in the way that would be necessary if they were written as having valid points?
On both the Watsonian and the Doylist levels, I’m completely at a loss.
Stray Notes—
O Hose Face’s face hose gets torn apart, and I have some seriously pressing questions about whether he just lost a limb to what was functionally a hero’s attack.  I suppose it could have been a support item, but no lines between his quirk, his briefly glimpsed fighting style, and an enormous fucking hose on his face leap to draw themselves in my mind.  Again, if his quirk is a biohazard of some kind and he needs a mask to protect him from its effects, like Mustard, surely he wouldn’t use it to float his unmasked allies around the battlefield? So what is it, just dead weight on his mask to make him look creepier?
Anyway, there’s none of the blood spray that has tended to accompany traumatic limb loss in the series to date, but I do wonder.  It would be, I think, the only instance other than All Might pulping AFO’s face of heroic action maiming a villain to such an irrevocable degree.[6]  You know, just to exacerbate the severity of turning Machia on his allies even further.  God knows Shinsou doesn’t tell Machia to hold back, and those claws were plenty lethal against heroes, as we all well know.
O Not sure why Shinsou had to base his Persona Chords arrangement on recordings from Tartarus when he could have just gotten it from the phone call to the Aoyamas.  I wonder how much time he needs to program those voices in?  It definitely drives home that the heroes had been contemplating using Shinsou against Machia for a long time, though.  Which, again, would be perfectly fine if all Shinsou were doing were making Machia stand down.  Not so much all the rest of it, though.
O Would it kill Horikoshi to stop telling us the outcomes of these flashbacks before we spend whole chapters on them?? At least when Mirio came back during the war, we spent like a page and a half on the foregone conclusion before getting on back into the swing of things. The reason the fight with Spinner at the hospital had tension is because we didn't know the outcome in advance. What exactly would have been the issue with ending Chapter 382 with Machia showing up and hurling a mountain at the combatants without revealing that the target is AFO and showing Shinsou and Kirishima?
(Tune in next time for: trying to make heads or tails of what exactly Shinsou thought he was doing.)
------------------ FOOTNOTES ------------------ [1] I’ll take Scale Considerations the Author Probably Wasn’t Thinking About for $600, Alex.
[2] Consider, for example, Bad Future Timelines where the present-day heroes have to debate and, ultimately, defeat jaded dystopian future versions of themselves. Or the perennial question, "Why doesn't Batman kill the Joker?"
[3] This after crediting her Acid Man move as being inspired by Kirishima’s Unbreakable, too, recall.
[4] And I’ll note that both times she’s brought up Midnight, here and in the war arc when Mineta is fretting, it’s in the context of going back to Midnight’s classes.  She never actually brings up Midnight as her own person, Kayama Nemuri, because Mina doesn’t know Kayama Nemuri.  It’s always and only “Midnight-sensei, whose classes I like.”  It can’t be stirring and personal when it’s so staunchly removed from being personal.
[5] The kid whose name means Apocrypha, to repeat myself for the umpteenth time.
[6] Give or take the way the heroes have been pretty openly using lethal force against Shigaraki ever since he got out of the tube.
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commanderquinn · 1 year
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Good Space Chapter 1: Flower
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! i dont! keep these posts! updated! like i do! ao3!
that means you're going to find typos and shit (and possibly minor detail changes) that don't match the ao3 version! that's because im not going to bother fixing the tumblr posts until i finish good space as a whole. im only uploading them here as a backup tbh
master list / ao3 chapter link
She’s the one good thing about trips to medical in the Avenger’s Tower.
Every other day, at her direct insistence, her lab is the only place in the entire wing that he’s willing to go to. It smells warm and safe, nothing like the antiseptic that makes him want to break a limb. For the first two weeks, he tries to tell her that she doesn’t have to do this. He’s been looking after the link from his arm to his brain for years. There’s never been a problem with it that he couldn’t handle, and he’ll come back if anything ever feels off. No matter how much Steve hovers, she doesn’t need to waste her time on this.
By the start of the third week, he can’t bring himself to suggest that anymore.
psa: there’s some gross ass (sometimes detailed) nazi medical shit all through this fic, so if lobotomy talk of any kind is a no for you, skim over any brain talk. your best bet is just to skip the lab scenes where you can ❤️
fic title is a song by skrillex! we needed bouncy shit that vague hinted at plot. the chapter title is a moby song to lay out the v i b e s 👾 im always going to list these, so y’all have a song to listen to while reading
all i can think that needs to be said for canon clarity (ill make it all clear over time dw) is post-WS buckaroo got picked up by steve and sam to be taken for a shower and therapy. no civil war, no age of ultron. we're taking parts of it and doing other shit, you'll see. fury’s publicly alive and director again, shield got flushed out because mmmmm i said so i guess. no red room here. its not about nat, the lack of consent history hanging between them isnt something i want with this. i want to focus on other parts of their trauma bond. alsomaybeishipnatwithsomeoneinthis.
im sorry, but i never started wanda content on my end, and AI jarvis is comfy nostalgia i want to play in, so likely not a lot for her here. yes, we will be having shuri bully bucky, ofc, she’s the pin that holds this whole plot together (what else is new)
oh and i treat bucky’s arm as more of an atompunk feel rather than “the nazi’s had bleeding edge limb tech in ww2 that only affects bucky’s arm, definitely not anything else”
other than that, we’re firmly in good ‘ol stark tech magic and too many open wiki pages for all my plot device needs
also my grammar aint the good. i write these mf's in my spare time while baked af, you're gonna have to give a bitch a break babes 👾
Febuary 17th, 2018
"That's not what I'm asking about."
Tony throws up his hands from the other side of the conference table, then lets them smack back down against the polished surface dramatically. "Illuminate me then, Rogers. I'm running out of ways to explain that she's the best I've got to offer for this."
Steve pushes a hand through his hair with a frustrated huff. "I'm not a brain surgeon." 
"No shit, that's what she's here for."
"I meant that I don't know what the fuck I'm looking at."
"Now I know you're worried if you're willing to," Tony clutches at the front of his shirt in mock horror, "swear in public." Pepper smacks his shoulder without even looking up from her tablet. The sight would make Steve smile under normal circumstances. 
"You can hand me any resume you want, Tony. I'm telling you that I won't be able to see a difference. I know you're giving me a team who can do the work; I'm asking if they can do it while it's Bucky."
"Are you worried about his safety or theirs?" Pepper asks, finally looking over. Her tone isn't judgemental. If anything, it's veering towards the gentleness it has when she's talking Tony down.
"I'm not worried about theirs. I will be there every time. Even if he has a bad day, I'll make sure that—look. Nothing's going to happen. It's just...." Steve flips open the folder he's been carrying for a week. The edges of it are starting to wear down at this point. Sighing, he slides his summary notes to their side of the table. "He still doesn't... he doesn't talk about the previous escapes. No matter what his therapist tries. He just can't bring himself to do it. But it's not hard to get a clear picture of what used to happen. He does this every time. He builds himself a strong house, then a fallback point, and then he goes to work trying to fix all the damage alone, which he'll never be able to do. No one could. And there's not going to be a goon squad rolling in to drag him back anymore, so he's just going to—"
"Yeah, yeah, push him to help him; I grasped the concept the first hundred times," Tony cuts in. If he weren't so damn anxious, Steve might honestly feel bad about being so far up everyone's ass over this. "You've got me on board. So, what's the concern here? Will she quit the first time he bites her head off? That's a pretty chauvinist perspective, especially coming from you."
"She's had to put up with Tony long enough to befriend him; that should be proof enough." Pepper smiles as the nightmare himself points toward her in silent agreement.
Steve raises his hands amicably. "I'm not trying to insult anyone's professionalism. I'm sure she's had more than her fair share of problem patients to get where she is today. I'm... I'm more asking if—Christ. I'm sorry in advance, alright? But... Tony, I need you to look me in the eye and tell me that you'd have trusted her to get you home."
A stiff, all-consuming silence falls over the spare meeting room. Pepper and Steve waiting on bated breath; Tony frozen as he looks back at him with an expressionless face. 
Steve despises himself for doing this to him. The knowledge of what happened in that cave is something the man is unimaginably protective over. It took years—and a night of blackout drinking on Tony's end—for the story to even slip out of him. Talking about Yinsen is the only time Steve's seen him cry that he can remember. It was just one overflow, barely even two tears that got scrubbed off his cheeks within the first minute, but it was there. It's the only way Steve knows to get his point across.
Tony looks down at the table and adjusts his posture. His head shifts and his lips purse in that signature move of his, the one that comes up when he's forced to be a person. With feelings. Pepper's arm moves, no doubt taking his hand under the table. 
He looks back up, meeting Steve's eyes as his posture relaxes. "I wish they could have met. I think Yin would have gotten a kick out of her fashion taste. I think she'd have gotten an even bigger one out of putting him in it."
It's the most ringing endorsement he's ever heard the man give. More importantly, Steve knows just how much weight sits behind the guarded words.
"I've got their personnel files if you want them. They all volunteered them to you willingly."
"I'm alright."
"Do you want their names ahead of time?"
"No."
"Not even their first ones?"
"They can tell them to me."
"Okay."
"...."
"...."
"...What are they?"
"The ones that'll be behind the glass are Hannah and Wyatt." Of course Steve knows to start there, where his nerves will fixate the most. Asshole. "You probably won't even talk to the two of them today, but your main doctor for this will definitely offer to let you. Her name is Ava. She's going to check in with you for confirmation on a lot of things before she does them. I shadowed her for over a week, asshole. It's not about you; she does it for everyone."
Bucky grunts. "I wouldn't have jumped on her for it."
"No, you'd have sat there brooding like a petulant jackass instead, probably making her feel bad." Steve pauses for a long moment, fiddling with the paper coffee cup in his hands. "You should read Hannah's file, Buck."
"Why?" He shouldn't ask. He can hear the motive sitting in his best friend's voice. It's a fucking trap, and he fucking knows it, but he also can't stop himself.
"Her last name is Schuster."
He absolutely despises the way the situation makes his gut clench. They're dead. They're all dead, and the ones in their place have been declawed for much longer than he's been off ice. He's probably not even going to talk to the woman, at least not today. He might catch the sight of a name on a coat, however. Or on a chart.
He wanted to do this without letting old habits in. He wanted to at least start this feeling like a person, not a weapon. But he gets why the dickhead is trying to baby-step him into it.
Bucky holds out his hand. Steve silently passes him the tablet he keeps. Neither of them says a word as he reads the SHEILD file to himself, line by line. Taking in a stranger's entire professional life. Her family, her known associates, every residence she's ever held. It takes a moment of hovering his finger over the subfolder with her medical records to talk himself down from opening it. Nothing is lingering in those shadows; Steve wouldn't allow it. That's not a line he needs to cross anymore. 
He hands it back when he's done. "The other two?"
"Nothing I could think of. Ava's seen your hard limit list—you remember I told you I was gonna give it to one of your—?"
"I remember. It's okay. That's why you have it."
"Yeah." Steve takes another long pause. "You remember that she knows—"
"I know."
"Good. The others don't. She says they don't need to for any of it, and it's never going on record again." He looks over out of the corner of his eye. "She's going to bring it up today."
"I had a hunch."
"I just wanted to make sure it didn't surprise you."
"I know."
"Good." Steve picks up his coffee to drain the last of it in one swig. He tosses the empty cup into a trashcan by the wall a few tables over before looking back at him. He extends his now-empty hand. "Ready?"
"Not in the fucking least." Bucky raises his hand to lock with his best friends momentarily. "Let's go."
There's no wing in this tower—and he's been through all of them by now—that he dislikes more than medical. The place makes his skin feel like a thousand goddamn spiders are crawling all over him, and the smell of it, fuck. It sits in his head like a fog while it burns up the inside of his nose, making him want to break anything touching any part of him. He'd make Steve be here with him no matter what; that's a given. But the fact that there's going to be a doctor poking at him today while he's trying to power through it all makes the guy's presence non-negotiable. Bucky needs the safety net for the good of everyone in that room.
Steve doesn't try for talking to distract him, mercifully enough. There are times when it helps. Today isn't going to be one of them. He doesn't even have to bring it up for Steve to know, and the reminder that he's understood helps his nerves. It's been an incredibly long time since he had an incident. He's proud of every last one of those days. He won't be upset with himself—well. He'll try not to be upset with himself if that streak ends. But he really, really wants that day not to be today.
Bucky treats it like a mission. He's braced and ready for the antiseptic when they first get through the entrance. He doesn't flinch or huff through his nose at the invasion, not even as they make their way to the specialized divisions. He's walked these hallways before; he's walked every single one in the tower. It was the only way he could get himself to sleep during his first week here. Aside from a few trips to the emergency intake, he hasn't had to force himself back. 
He's definitely never bothered with meeting the specialists themselves. It took long enough to convince himself not to memorize the names of every staff member in the tower. He doesn't need to do that anymore. That's what his therapist and the Star Spangled Spandex keep insisting, anyways.
The door Steve goes for sticks out against the sleek hallway long before they reach it. It's painted, and not just a solid color; it's covered with a garden scene done by several different hands, going by the skill variation. Bucky runs his thumb over one of the hundreds of flowers as they walk past it to feel how thick the tiny acrylic mountains are. One of the petals cracks under the light pressure of the move, making him frown. The mural's not sealed at all, despite being long dried. Not the kind of thing maintenance usually overlooks.
An absolute shock of color hits Bucky's eyes when he gets his first look at the neurosurgeon's office. The walls he can spot from this side of the entryway are lined with tie-dye hanging cloths, and the floor is covered in fluffed-up, vibrant rugs. There's not a hint of SHIELD regulation left in the architecture, with all the walls that aren't glass holding even more heavy paint globs. Some of the murals are more flowers, but a majority of them are space themed. 
The stench of antiseptic fades the farther into the room Bucky goes. By the time the door shuts behind him, it's entirely replaced with the warm aroma of apples and cinnamon. A long, curved desk is off to one corner, pushed against the glass wall overlooking the city and covered in picture frames. An arrangement of chairs piled with pillows matching the rest of the decor sits in the center. Each one of them is fucking massive.
The room itself is separated in half by a thick glass wall. He can spot two doctors sitting behind an array of equipment on the other, equally decorated side behind the glass. There isn't any creative paint in there from what he can spot. If it weren't for that, he could almost forget that he's standing in a medical lab. 
Almost.
"Hi there," comes a voice to his right. 
The woman it belongs to almost blends in with the office once Bucky turns his head to look at her. The lab coat that comes down to her knees is a solid blue rather than tye-dye, but it's covered in stitched designs. Most of them are shaped like bees. Bucky barely stops his eyebrows from raising at the sight of the outfit underneath. Loose cloth pants hanging low on her hips, with even more bees on them, and a hand-knit top that would have been called obscene during most of the decades he woke up in. The bun she's pulled her hair into must have been done this morning; more than a few bundles are hanging down haphazardly. Bucky hasn't met a lot of brain surgeons that he knows of, but he doesn't remember any of them having glasses as thick as hers. He's pretty sure that good vision is something most of them need for the job. Not that he's nervous.
She walks over with a warm smile, already extending a hand to him. She's a short, round little thing. Barely five feet, if his guess is accurate. It always is. "I'm Dr. Ryder. You can call me Ava. I'm told you're my newest patient."
He accepts the shake with a nod and tries not to think about how sweaty his hand might feel to her. Wiping it against his pants would have been too weird. "James."
"But you prefer Bucky, right?"
"Yes, ma'am. Ava," he corrects himself quickly.
"Oooh, someone's stepped on some toes in the new century." Her smile takes on a teasing edge. "I'm originally from Canada; you won't find me taking offense. Ingrained cultural manners are a bitch to hold back."
"Careful, they're the only manners he's got," Steve warns, already heading for one of the chairs. 
"Ignore him. I'm house-trained," Bucky assures her. Taking his hand back, he hikes a thumb over his shoulder, needing something to stall with. "You sure you don't want someone to give your door a few clear coats? It'd be a shame to see all that work chip off."
Ava waves dismissively. "We redo it a lot; it's a relaxation project around here. It'll look different pretty soon." She points toward the glass wall separating the two halves of the office. "I've got the rest of the team working on a project to give us some space, but I can bring them in for a minute if you'd like to meet them?"
"I'm... I'm alright for now, thanks. I can meet them—whenever."
She doesn't insist further or comment on the blatant nerves in his voice. Her hand waves at the arranged chairs as she moves to sit in one. "Take your pick of the lineup, then. Typically I'd offer to take you to the corner of the roof that we've claimed for ourselves as an alternative. But, I need to keep you in environmental controls for sanitation, at least for the initial visit."
Bucky nods a few times as he sits in the one next to Steve's. His ass sinks nearly a foot into nothing but pillows, and his spine goes rigid. "Here's fine." 
He'd have said no anyways, not that he'll mention that. Too many open sight lines with his anxiety on edge. He'll be revisiting the roof before his next appointment to familiarize himself, though, that's for sure. His last trip up there was long before she was even hired. The mental image of bead strings and tye-dye throw blankets on patio furniture flits through his head. If she decorates the same way everywhere, he's guessing it won't be all that hard to find the space. 
Ava pulls up a tablet from the coffee table to rest in the middle of her folded legs. He's guessing she's into yoga in her spare time. One of her eyebrows arches at them in amusement. "You know, I've never actually seen someone fill one of these before now." 
"The benefits of dosed living," Steve quips, his tone a little too positive. It makes Bucky's foot start to bounce silently against the floor on instinct.
If she notices, the doctor doesn't mention it as she focuses on Bucky. "Steve tells me you prefer when doctors keep things direct with you."
Bucky shifts his eyes over to the man in question, who busies himself with one of the pillows, picking at the hanging fringe. Fucker's going to be hearing about this later, that's for damn sure. 
He looks back at Ava. Time to get it over with, he encourages himself. "Yeah, if you don't mind."
"Not at all. I know Steve's already told you, but I want you to hear it from my mouth. I have The Soldier's activation memorized."
He can't stop the gut instinct to swallow over hearing the words, but he nods. "I'm okay with it."
"It's not in any of my notes; it never will be. My team understands that there is a specific trigger in place; they need to in order to do their job. But they have no indication of what it is. I'll never write the words out or speak them where they can be picked up. Steve helped me with the pronunciation and the order when he first gave me your records, but you have my word that I won't be repeating them."
"You should," Bucky insists immediately. "If anything happens, you should, and you shouldn't hesitate about it."
"She knows, Buck," Steve assures him with a murmur. "I took her through the worst case drill. She's got a panic button on her."
"Steve tells me that my reaction time is fast enough for working on your case safely." Ava's head tilts to the side slightly. "Your comfort is the priority here. We can always run through a silent drill together if you'd like the reassurance."
He thinks about it. Honest to god, he lets himself sit in the idea of putting Steve's training to the test for more than a few moments. Neither of them push him for an answer. "I might take you up on that at some point."
She nods, the hair hanging closest to her face bouncing slightly. "Whenever you want. That offer is permanent. I'm taking this case on because I want to help undo what's been done; I'm not here to let it be continued, not even in research." Her eyes shift to Steve, with a bitter defiance building in them. "I trust that'll be clarified to the director if our work here ever reaches his ears, captain."
Steve nods, finally looking up from where he's moved on to picking at the pillow's stitches. "There's no more mud in that water. Fury understands how far over the line we went."
Ava doesn't look convinced in the least. Bucky doesn't blame her, not with the scattered memories of his role in all of it sitting in his head. When she looks back at him, the distrust leaves her eyes. "I'd like to get a better idea of what we'll be working with. I know that's probably going to be one of the most difficult parts of this, so we can try to get through it now if you'd like. Or we can wait until you're feeling more comfortable. It's entirely up to you."
Shifting slightly to straighten out his shoulders, Bucky nods. "I'm ready now."
It's an outright lie, but that doesn't really matter anymore. There's never going to be a time when he is ready. He still needs to do this.
"I'm going to need to adjust your head a few times today," she tells him with a relaxed, melodic tone as she stands up. She lifts a black briefcase from the coffee table and brings it over to rest on the arm of his chair, where he can easily see it being handled. "Is there anywhere you'd prefer me putting my hands? Or anywhere specific you want me to avoid?"
Bucky sees Steve shift his head slightly in his peripheral and wants to roll his eyes. Asshole. He'd have made a joke at the most; he wouldn't have been insulted. Probably. "I can't think of anywhere to steer you away from. You're good to do whatever you need to do."
She doesn't take him into the other section of the room like he thought she would. She doesn't even make him stand back up. All it takes to get the nightmare he's been dreading for years started is Ava pulling a wired, plastic wreath from the briefcase to put over the top of his head. She doesn't push a cold faceplate over his eye and against his temples; no bite guard gets shoved in his mouth. There's no frigid metal probing into the top of his neck to make his teeth buzz until he wants to rip them out of his jaw. The air around him isn't humid and suffocating like it was in that bunker. He can't hear the hum of electric coils or the squeak of leather boots on linoleum. 
He's not in Siberia. He's in New York. This isn't a HYDRA agent strapping him down. This is a hippie, who definitely smoked pot this morning, putting a sensor on his head that barely has any weight. 
"Here, hold this for me," she tells him from behind his chair, offering her tablet over his shoulder. He takes it silently, bringing it to rest in both hands. A digital scan of his brain is already being mapped out on the screen. It's the first time he's seen the anchor that wraps around his brainstem since the X-rays HYDRA used to leave up like trophies. "We can get a look at this thing together."
Bucky takes a deep breath in. It's… not a pretty sight. Whatever they put in him isn't registering in the bright blue lights of the rest of his brain. They're all dark spots, primarily lines branching out from the anchor that might as well be a black hole. 
"You see that?" Ava leans forward to run her nail up the path of one of the lines. It starts at the anchor, and it's attached to another point further up, but that junction is the source of even more lines that go all over. There's a fucking mechanical spider web in his brain. "That's your motor cortex, and those links are tethered to your arm, starting there. That—the one right there—is what's making your cybernetics work."
"What's the rest of it?" There's a fucking lot of it, whatever it is. A lot more than he remembers being put in. 
"Considering the intent of the Nazis that had you, the end goal was probably total control." Her finger moves, tapping several things that look way too fucking important as she keeps talking. "All of those there are connected to your essential functions: breathing, heart rate, consciousness. From there, they branched out into trying for control over your limbs. Jesus." She leans further over his shoulder and pinches at the screen to zoom in. "It looks like they were already building into your entire cognitive process."
"What does that mean?" Steve asks, worry rising in his tone. 
"It means they were reckless on top of being cruel. And fucking stupid—pardon my French."
"You're talking to soldiers, doc," Bucky reminds her quietly, his brows drawn in as his eyes trace the black spots in his grey matter. 
"Right. In that case, fuck every last one of them and the horses they rode... into whichever circle of hell they're burning in, I guess." Bucky's lips twitch slightly as she zooms back out. "They were venturing into parts of the brain that haven't been studied enough for human testing, even by today's standards. Blindly poking just to see what worked; my guess is because they knew that you could survive it. You see that big scary thing under your hippocampus?"
Bucky nods as she taps at the anchor. "Yeah. Yeah, that was… that was the first part. That got put in, I mean." He clears his throat when it starts to scratch. "I'm. I'm pretty sure it was the first part." 
"Do you want to know why you don't feel sure?" she asks gently. Her voice has dropped to something much softer. It makes him sit back in the overly comfortable chair incrementally. 
"Yeah," he tells her quietly, honestly. He wouldn't have a year ago. 
Ava circles her finger around the center of his brain, where one of the more prominent lines from the anchor holds several thinner, black branches. "That's your limbic system. It controls emotion, memory, behavioral habits, that kind of thing. They fried it at some point trying to get to your memories, I assume. My team has the photograph from your HYDRA file, the one with the X-ray from your initial brain surgery. I've studied it with my own eyes. That serum in your bloodstream is the only thing that brought you back from being a vegetable. The salvaged notes from the initial facility they kept you in mention months of unresponsiveness and varying levels of brain activity. 
"There's a reason you can't remember who you were then, Bucky. They wiped you clean because they knew you, out of all their test subjects, could recover from it. There wasn't enough left of your mind to hold memories, much less any kind of higher will." He hears her clothes shuffle behind him and sees Steve turn his head to look back at her from the corner of his eye. "I'm more than willing to testify to that in any court on Earth, captain. So we're clear."
"Understood," Steve replies, his voice thick. "I appreciate that."
Fuck, so does Bucky. Too bad he can't get his throat to open back up at the moment. 
"Now, let's talk about the hard part." He hears Ava sigh. "From what I can see, there's no way we can remove any of this. Not by any standard that I'm willing to entertain, at least."
Bucky shakes his head and tries clearing his throat again. It doesn't feel anywhere near as successful this time around. "That's fine. I don't—I don't think I'd… I wouldn't be ready for that. I just want to know it's not…."
"Capable of being controlled remotely?" she offers when he trails off. 
"Yeah. Aside from the code. I don't—that's not a problem. They're dead. Anyone else that had it, I mean." Christ, his foot's going to bounce straight out of his boot, right through the leather. 
"I can't make any kind of assurances at this stage when it comes to that. But you have my word that it will be my team's primary focus." Her hand pulls back, and he feels four of her fingertips lightly rest on his shoulder. "I'd prefer to check that connection point they left over your spinal cord before you leave today, but the rest of what we need for diagnostics can wait until another time."
Bucky pulls in a heavy breath through his nose. "Yeah. I'm ready to do that."
"I need to get a few things for it and check in with my team." She taps at the side of the wreath lightly. "You don't have to keep looking at the scan, but you should leave this on while I'm gone so we can get some basic readings."
"You're the boss, doc." He tries not to make it look like he's in a hurry to get the thing out of his hand when he dumps the tablet on his leg. 
"I'll be back in just a bit," she tells them, calmly shuffling off into the other half of the office. The glass door hisses loudly as she goes through it, confirming it's a sterile lab. The wall frosts over shortly after with the privacy screen activating.
Neither of them says a word for the first few minutes.
"Well," Steve finally offers up, his voice still as thick as when he thanked the doctor. "There's the confirmation you've been waiting for."
"That's not what that was—"
"Alright, you know what? Fuck you very much, Buck—"
"Fuck me? Fuck me? Yeah, I guess that's how it works now, what with you making alll the fucking calls—"
Steve's finger comes sailing into his face. "This affects more than just—" He stops with a short, muted groan and yanks his hand back to shove through his hair. After a moment, he lets it fall to his thigh in a clenched fist. "You want to sit here blaming yourself for it all, fine. I've got no right to tell you to stop when I'm still doing the exact same thing. But I'm pulling you through this whether," his voice goes high and mocking as he turns to glare a hole into the side of Bucky's head, "yooou like it or not. I let you fall once; I'm not fucking doing it again, asshole."
Bucky stares down a lava lamp sitting on the coffee table for a long, silent moment, his face pinched. He counts the number of wiggling blobs floating from the top to the bottom. He takes in their shared color and picks as close to a stupid paint name for it as possible. One by one, his photographic memory goes down the list of stupid colors from that stupid swatch wall at the stupid art supply store that Steve takes him to when he can't sleep at three in fucking the morning. He decides on fuchsia because it sounds extra stupid. There're twelve in total, they're fuchsia, and his best friend is as stupid as the name of their color.
The anger eventually eases up. "You're the asshole."
Steve sits back in his chair with a sigh. "Love you, too."
It takes a long minute of grinding his teeth for Bucky to force out the question that won't stop echoing in his head. "She doesn't know about the others?"
"She knows there were other attempts, but no, I didn't tell her any of them were successful. I left my notes in her file on what's been held back from her, along with the things she knows that her team doesn't. You can tell her whatever you want; that's up to you. I really think you should read through all of their files."
"Yeah?" Bucky snaps mockingly. "I really think you should kiss my ass."
Steve reaches out to grab one of the magazines from a stack on the coffee table. His posture is resigned and absolutely screaming I know better than you right now, idiot. "You should grow the fuck up."
There's no way the notes from HYDRA cover all his surgeries, not with this much framework built up inside his brain.
Steve warned her to expect something like this. The bastards passed Bucky around like a science experiment over the decades. Whenever a station was compromised, all of its records were destroyed to safeguard HYDRA's critical secrets, the work and confirmed existence of the Winter Soldier being one of them. Only a handful were raided by SHEILD efficiently enough to prevent further loss of his medical history. What remains is the scattered works of solitary minds spanned across decades. 
In Ava's opinion, not one of those minds should have been granted the mercy of seeing daylight again after their senseless, abhorrent, despicable crimes against the sergeant. Never in her life has she been a violent woman, but given a blunt object and five minutes with the lot of them, she'd have been very tempted to rebalance nature with ruthless gusto. 
A hand nudges at her arm, pulling her from her distraction with a quick inhale. "Sorry, repeat that?"
Wyatt's eyebrows pull in sympathetically. "Y'can hand this part off to one of us, boss."
"You can hand it off to him," Hannah interrupts briskly, her eyes never moving from where they're pressed against a microscope. 
"Y'can hand it off to me," Wyatt rapidly corrects with a warm smile. He drums his stylus against his arm and leans against the lab's center console. The movable hologram program Tony gifted them is already building detail into one of the darkest acts in human history. Right there, in front of one of the most gentle souls Ava's ever met. The contrast makes her stomach drop. "I mean it; y'know me, I got a real sweet touch. Betch'a the sergeant wouldn't even know I'd been there til it was over."
"Don't make me say it, Combs." Hannah almost sounds bored. The former marine is in a good mood today.
Wyatt doesn't even bother with throwing a quip back at her. He's usually wise enough to know when he's in a losing battle. Reaching out, he gives Ava's shoulder a supportive bump. "You said so yourself; he's alright with meetin' us."
Ava shakes her head, bringing her hand up to rub at the bridge of her nose. Her eyes are stinging hard enough to make them water. She shouldn't have pulled an all-nighter before this; it definitely isn't helping her frustration. "He's okay with it; that doesn't mean he's ready for it. You should see the way he's practically vibrating in that chair. There's not one part of this he isn't forcing himself through. I want to try to limit contact until he feels like he's in control of the space around him."
"That won't take long," Hannah comments quietly, reaching for another slide. "There are certain habits infiltrators don't lose."
"Speakin' from your own experience on that one?" Wyatt asks, curiosity creeping into his tone. Their eternal beacon of southern sunshine has yet to give up chasing details about her, unlike everyone else who visits their little medical corner. 
"Infiltrator is not the classification I would have given myself. I was never very subtle in my old line of work."
"Yeah, 'cause subtle's definitely the word I'd pick for your blunt ass now." Wyatt rolls his eyes and extends his hand to rapidly spin the projection of Bucky's brain with the flick of a stubby finger. "Either'a you looked at these trenches much yet? There's different cablin' in every major section. None of it's got a set standard, far as I can tell."
"I don't think he ever had the same doctor for more than two surgeries." Ava leans heavily against the console with a sigh, trying not to let herself venture into the mindset of a terrified soldier. She has to stay detached, or this will eat her alive before they're even halfway done. The enlarged hologram already hurts to look at in more ways than one. "Steve confirmed that HYDRA intermittently lost sections of his records through the years. All of this could be fractured by the decades; we won't know until Paige starts getting a read on the programming behind that main port."
"How do you want us to handle data transfer?" Hannah asks.
"Let's keep this off our internal server as much as we can help it. Tony sectioned off a virtual instance that we can burn when needed, but the only time you should be using that is for his scans. Put everything else on an isolated hard copy here in the lab, wherever you can do it without hindering the work. I want the equipment analysis kept as off-record as possible. I don't want this being recreated. By anyone."
"Definitely agreein' with you on that one, boss." Wyatt pokes his finger into the projection's left frontal lobe, halting its slowing spin. "I know we said extraction ain't the goal here, but I'm gonna be runnin' some sims on that when I've got the time. I don't like the idea of leavin' any'a this shit in, even if we do get it identified and nuked."
Ava nods and reaches up to give his shoulder a warm squeeze. "Let me know what initial paths you route; we can build from there. I doubt he'll be ready for any extensive work for years to come, but the least we can do is present him with some options." She takes a deep breath through her nose as she looks over the port connection on the hologram. "Alright, I'll be back after I finish his consultation."
"Good luck, boss," Wyatt encourages with a smile. "Tell the sergeant we said hi."
She waves her hand over her shoulder with a hum and braces herself to face her latest patient again. 
The sergeant himself is sitting just as stiffly as he was when she left, but the captain has moved on to relaxing with a magazine in his hands. They both look up at the sound of the door opening, with a laid-back smile on Steve's face and a forced one on Bucky's. She almost wants to tell him that he doesn't have to make an attempt. 
"Sorry for the wait; needed a quick check-in with the brain trust." And to not want to throw something heavy through Tony's fancy glass walls. "They wanted me to pass along their hello's. Dr. Combs, in particular, is very excited to meet you."
Bucky huffs a silent laugh through his nose as she returns to stand at the side of his chair. She doesn't try to move behind him for the moment. "Yeah, I'm sure I'm real—"
"Buck," Steve cuts in softly with a side eye in his best friend's direction.
"Fascinating?" Bucky's eyes lift to Ava's at her teasing guess, and his responding nod is sheepish. She smiles at the attempted manners. "Your case is as interesting as it is horrific, that's for sure. Lucky for you, we're a morbid bunch, so you can go for the gallows humor whenever you want." She taps at Bucky's arm with the pad of her index finger, trying to warm him up to repeat physical contact. "However, I'm pretty sure Wyatt is looking forward to asking for your autograph above everything."
The sergeant's eyebrows rocket toward his hairline. "What's he looking for? Love, The Winter Soldier?"
"Bucky." Steve doesn't even look over this time; he just drops one side of the magazine to pinch the bridge of his nose. 
The sight of an exasperated Captain America sitting in her office makes Ava snort loudly. She doesn't miss the way it makes Bucky's lips raise at the corners. "He comes from a long line of history buffs who believe accurate preservation is the best tool to prevent it from repeating. The guy grew up with battle models and field testimonials from every major war. I'm guessing he had some Howling Commando envy as a kid, though he won't own up to that on his end."
"He knows I was one of them for all of five minutes, right?"
"None of us were Howlies for long," Steve forcefully insists, one foot coming over to kick Buckys. "But that doesn't change the good we did while we were."
"It also won't stop him from chewing your ear off about it if you let him." Ava crosses her arms over her chest in amusement. "My advice is to stop him early. Definitely before he starts asking what you remember about the maps. You've got a real Milo Thatch working on your brain now." Bucky looks up at her in confusion. "Haven't gotten around to Disney movies yet? Milo's a character from Atlantis, one of my personal favorites. He and Wyatt share a certain level of academic excitement."
"I'll add it to the watch list." A small smile comes up, making her wonder what his cheeks look like when he really lets it go. "And keep the point of no return in mind."
She stops herself from gushing about the beauty of the art behind the movie, wanting to honor his headfirst approach. "You ready to get the last part of today's visit over with?"
His shoulders rise with another resigned intake, making her want to be ferociously violent toward the closest available Nazi. "I'm ready when you are, doc."
"My go-to hardware specialist built a prototype connector based on the scans Tony got during your initial intake. It's only the first iteration for the sake of data extraction, so be sure to speak up if anything feels off. Anything at all, even if it's just minor discomfort. She can work on changing it for the next build. I'm sure Steve can attest to Paige's efficiency at her job by now."
The slightest hint of a blush comes over the captain's cheeks at the teasing mention of his numerous visits to the engineering department. "Ms. Findley—"
"Does she ask you to call her that?" Bucky jumps on his best friend with immediately. Ava would feel bad about chumming the waters, but the banter is making him relax against the chair. 
Steve shuts his mouth momentarily. The blush gets a shade darker before he opens it again. "Paige is a very dedicated worker. And a lovely conversationalist. How do you two know each other? Through Tony?"
Now Ava really does feel bad. She puts a hand on her hip and tries to keep her smile from growing. "No, I'm the one who introduced them. She's been my best friend for about fifteen years now."
Steve freezes, and Bucky's grin takes over the lower half of his face. The sergeant sits all the way back, with shoulders that are perfectly at ease. "Oh, good. If I think of anything later, I can just have Stevie drop it off for me. I'd hate to forget between appointments."
Ava pulls the wireless reader and its port connector from the briefcase on Bucky's chair. She steps up behind him and tries not to let her eyes linger on how his smile lights up his face or how it warms her chest to see. Her free hand comes to rest on his left shoulder, leaving the exit door in his right peripherals. "This shouldn't take more than a few minutes at most. Ready?"
"Hit me." It almost doesn't sound forced. 
She lifts his hair and runs her thumb over the port once to brace him for the new sensations before lining up the connector. As she'd explicitly requested of Paige, the mechanism doesn't snap into place when she locks it in, meaning there's no responding vibration to move through his skull. The notes from Bucky's therapist that were passed along didn't mention it, but they hardly mention anything at all. There's a lot he's holding back, there has to be, and she's been trying to preempt as much of it as she can. 
Bucky's nails dig into the arm of the chair, and he inhales sharply. After a moment, his fingers start to relax one by one. Ava watches them all, her eyes moving between his hands and neck repeatedly, while the reader begins its data harvest. She gives him long enough to get a few steady breaths in. 
"Have you started any animated movie binges?" she prods, wanting to stall for time to get a closer look at his implant. With him letting her hold up his hair like this, it might be her only chance for the foreseeable future. 
"Sam's gotten me to sit through a few of his picks," he replies tensely. 
"Mmm. I'm guessing Mister Feathers is a Pixar fan." 
"I know that's an animation studio, but that's the extent of my expertise on the subject. Are they the ones who made Lilo and Stitch?"
"He did not make you watch that one first."
"He did, but that's technically not my first animated movie. We had them back in the 30s, you know."
"Some of us still call it animation's golden age," Steve mutters in the most crotchety old artist fashion, his eyes back on the magazine in his lap.
"Take a look around this room, Rogers," Ava sasses. "Do I look like someone who'd argue with you about its significance?"
"Point taken." 
Her eyebrows pull in while she looks over just how much of Bucky's spinal cord is exposed to outside influence. She knows how far the port runs thanks to the scans, but now she's getting an eyeful of movable hatching and flesh that will never get the proper chance to heal. 
"How are you handling the daily care of this?" she asks, running her finger around one edge of the port.
"I do it," Bucky tells her simply.
Her eyes lock on the back of his head in disbelief. "You do… what, exactly?"
"I've got a morning routine for it. Clear the excess buildup, sterilize the whole area, work the skin, that kind of thing."
"You understand that this has direct access to your brainstem, right?"
"I know." He shifts his weight in the chair. "I'm careful."
"I have several medical degrees, one of which is entirely focused on the human brain, and even I would hesitate to approach this on my own body. If anything that can give you so much as a hundred-degree fever touches this, you're dead, Bucky." She lets the hand not holding up his hair come to rest on his shoulder. "I'm not trying to scare you with this, but as your doctor, I need to make sure you understand the severity here. I don't want you doing this yourself anymore; I want you to come to my office for it."
"That's not necessary—"
"What time do you want him here in the mornings?" Steve asks, ignoring Bucky entirely. 
"I don't need to come here in the mornings—"
"It doesn't have to be every morning," Ava offers, wanting to give him a compromise. She's definitely not letting him go back to doing it himself. "I can set up a stable cleaning routine every other day whenever you have the time to come in."
"I have it handled, really—"
"I wouldn't push it past three days, though."
"Every other morning," Steve agrees. "That's perfect. JARVIS can keep an eye on the schedules for him."
"I've got working fucking eyeballs," Bucky almost shouts, making Ava and Steve finally let up. 
She squeezes her hand on his shoulder, half in apology, half in sympathy. "Yes, you do. But they happen to be in the front of your head. My eyes can see the back of your neck without a mirror, and they've got a decade's worth of disgustingly thorough medical training behind them. You came here because you're ready for this to get done. Now you actually have to let me do it."
Bucky lifts a hand as if he's about to argue but then lowers it with a soft sigh. "Yeah... yeah, alright. But I'm not always going to be here in the mornings—"
"She said it doesn't have to be the mornings," Steve cuts in again.
"You know what I mean, jackass. I'm not always going to be here consistently. I have, you know, a job that you try to boss me around on—"
"We can make sure you've got a trained medic to help—"
"No, Grant."
The words are said softly, and it takes a moment for Ava to even remember that it's the captain's middle name, but something happens in the wake of them. Steve's relentless push stops on a dime, and the fight leaves Bucky's shoulders. The two of them relax marginally, and Steve nods once. "Okay. So, we establish the routine here. Get it ironed out; get you practiced with it. Then I'll clear you for doing it yourself on missions. But if you miss even one while you're here, so help me—"
"I got it, I got it."
Steve watches Bucky with a tightly held expression for another long moment. Then he looks up at Ava with a nod. "He'll be here, and I'll make sure he's not cleared for another mission until you two have a stable routine for taking care of this."
Ava gives Bucky's shoulder another light squeeze. "I promise it'll be quick every time. I'll work with Paige on making you a field kit. In the long run, this shouldn't interrupt your normal day-to-day much at all."
"Appreciate the effort, doc." Bucky gives a soft grunt. "Sorry for the. Y'know. Pushback."
"I think the world owes you a little more than patience as backpay, Sergeant. I'm happy to help where I can."
Febuary 19th 2018
"I can handle it if you want me to."
"No. No, I... I can do it."
"You're sure?"
"You think I can't?"
"I think you look like you're about to throw up on my shoes."
"I don't like the idea of... starting off like that."
"That's why I'm offering to do it."
"No. It should be me. There are things you won't be able to explain."
"You can always fill in the blanks when she shows up for Soldat training."
"What a great alternative first impression! Hello, ma'am, not only am I a complete jackass, but I also delegate my role as—"
"You're not delegating; you're assigning the right person to the job. And this takes away the need for you to be a jackass."
"Leaving you to be a confrontational bitch in someone's eyes?"
"What's the issue there?"
"That's not what you are, Nat."
"Says who?"
Steve reaches out to smack the side of her arm. "That's one of my closest friends you're ragging on."
"She can take it." Natasha looks over at him, a bored hike to one brow. "Let's stay focused on what the doctor can take. This won't be like the therapists. We can't put him through multiple doctors on this. We'll only get one or two tries before he draws the hard limit."
He nods, turning his eyes back to the closed elevator doors. "Right. Right, it's for a good reason. I can do it."
"You don't have to. I can handle it."
"I know. But it should be me." He knocks the side of his boot against hers. "Thank you."
"Always. Let me know how it goes."
Natasha's off the elevator before the doors are even finished opening, leaving Steve to collect himself alone. He pushes off the back railing with a heavy sigh. No part of this is going to be easy to stomach. He's accepted that. He exits the elevator with a resigned set to his shoulders.
The medical wing is dark this late into the day. JARVIS already confirmed that the doctor is still in the building. From the AI's reports, she pulls late nights like this regularly. It bodes well for what he'll have to ask of her and her team.
He stops to admire the heavy paint on the outside of the lab's door. There's days worth of work here, clearly a labor of love. It takes until he's admiring the fourth flower of his perusal to notice that it's not all the same artist. He scans it a bit quicker after that, trying to take a guess as to how many different hands took part. His best guess is four.
Accepting that he's been inadvertently stalling, Steve pushes it open roughly. He probably should have expected the onslaught of color in the room from seeing the door. It still hits him hard enough to make him do a double-take through his exaggerated annoyance. The doctor sitting on the other side of a very large desk nearly jumps out of her chair.
"Christ Al-fucking-mighty," she swears, one hand coming up to brace against her chest. Steve gets nailed with a furious glare. "Knock much?"
Well, that's one test passed. "Are you Dr. Ryder?"
"I am. Who the hell wants to—oh." Recognition dawns on her face as Steve gets close enough to be illuminated by her desk light. The fury in her shifts toward indignance. "I happen to hold a lot of respect for you, at least during normal business hours. So, I'm going to give you the benefit of the doubt here and let you have a moment to explain yourself, captain."
He almost starts with an apology, but he catches himself in time. "I've been told you're one of the best neurosurgeons we're in contact with—"
"No, you've been told I am the best." She crosses her arms over her chest and leans back in her chair. Her head inclines toward him. "You can continue."
Steve's reservations about her being able to handle Bucky are leaving rapidly. It almost makes him smile. He holds it together with his best captain voice. "I need your expertise on a consultation. A private consultation. Completely off SHEILD books."
"Am I being roped into the organization's second overhaul?" There's bitterness lingering in her tone. The kind Steve remembers feeling on his own end for months leading up to Fury's near-assassination.
"No. When I say private, I mean private. This isn't under SHIELD purview. I'll be expecting discretion if you think you're up to the case, so we're clear."
The doctor's eyebrows sail up, and her head moves back far enough to hit her chair. "I'll be expecting you to hand over some details before I agree to a damn thing. As a follow-up, you can provide me with an explanation as to why this needed to be done an hour before midnight, with no forewarning and definitely no respect. Otherwise, you can turn your happy ass back around and go find the other neurosurgeons you didn't feel like harassing first."
Damn. He really should have gotten Natasha to do this; she's faster with proper comebacks. "You'll be given information as you need to know it. First, I need to make sure that—"
"First, you can fuck off." Her head shifts to one side as he pauses. "I don't respond well to authority, captain. I'm sure whatever's going on is very important if it's got America's Sweetheart making an ass of himself in the middle of my office on a Monday night. But that's not really my problem. It could be, were I given a reason to care about it."
"Does rectifying war crimes warrant your valuable attention, doctor?" The words feel awful leaving his mouth; she doesn't deserve to get barked at like this. But he needs an honest indication of how she'll react to a bad day.
Ava watches him with a slightly open mouth for more than a few tense moments. Then recognition dawns for a second time, and her eyes roll dramatically. "Oh, for god's sweet sake. You could have just asked if I have experience with PTSD patients. Hell, you were clearly sent by Tony, and I met the man at a veteran's benefit, so you could have asked him. Barnes' presence on the Avenger's roster isn't exactly a secret these days."
Steve holds himself still, then shifts his weight to one foot. "You met at a veteran's benefit?"
She nods slowly, with a bit of mockery behind the motion. "Yes. Almost a decade ago. He funds most of my work with the VA."
That hadn't been included in her resume. He didn't want to invade her privacy by pulling her file until she agreed to it. Steve feels heat rise to his cheeks. Then the anger starts to surface. "You know, I'm not one hundred percent sure I was supposed to know that."
"You think?" The words are bone dry, and her posture is still defensive, but there's a smile working its way up from the corners of her lips.
"Look, I...." Steve raises a hand to the back of his neck sheepishly. "I apologize. I promise it's not about doubting your professionalism—"
"It's about protecting family, yeah, I get it." Her arms don't unfold from her chest. But her eyebrows do come back down.
"He's very important to me. I want to make sure he's in good hands, that's all."
"Well?"
Steve's brows draw in. "I wasn't trying to dump the case on you right now—"
"No, idiot." Her eyes roll again, with much less aggression. "I'm asking if I passed."
"Oh." He nods, his cheeks still feeling far too hot. "With flying colors, so far. There's still a lot more to cover before we get Bucky involved, but. Yes, ma'am. I think you'll handle him just fine."
With a sigh, her arms finally lower. She extends a hand out in his direction. "Ava Ryder. It's very nice to meet you, Captain Rogers."
He takes her hand with a firm shake, inclining his head apologetically. "It's very nice to meet you, as well, doctor. You can call me Steve."
"You can call me Ava. So can James whenever I'm finally graced with his presence."
Yeah. She'll do just fine. "He prefers Bucky. And I'm sure he'll provide you with a much more agreeable first impression. All that can wait until you don't look like you're going to fall asleep on your keyboard, though.
Ava smiles warmly at him, falling back against her chair as she takes back her hand. "I'm looking forward to it. You can send me the details on the case at a reasonable hour to make up for scaring the shit out of me."
"Yes, ma'am." He tips his head respectfully, already backing up from her desk. "Sorry for the scare. And for being so disrespectful. He really is—"
"Important to you." She waves her hand dismissively before reaching up to push at her glasses. "I get it, don't worry. I'd be twice as much of a wreck in your shoes. You're doing fine."
Sometimes, on the rarest of occasions, there are benefits to having the worst moments of his life in the history books. "I appreciate that, thank you. You have a good rest of your night, ma'am. I'll send—I'll have JARVIS send you his file—"
"Captain Rogers is unaware of how to forward SHEILD files, doctor," the AI cuts in gleefully.
"I had my suspicions, JARVIS; thanks." She waves her hand again, this time in goodbye, as she looks back at her computer screen. "Please don't trip on my carpet and bust your ass on the way out of my office."
Steve pointedly turns on his heel, glad for the excuse to hide his burning face. He all but races to the door. "I'll be in contact, doc."
"Mhmm."
When he pulls open the painted door, he's almost unsurprised to find Natasha leaning against the other side of the hallway. She doesn't move at all, but one side of her mouth lifts in a smirk.
Steve lets the door shut softly behind him before cocking his head to the side. "Very cute. You two in on it together?"
"No, but sniffing out Tony's bait didn't take long. You'd have noticed, too, if you weren't so far up Bucky's ass." Her head tilts in the opposite direction as his. "Feel better?"
He straightens up with a nod. The motion feels confident. "Much."
—author's end notes, yoinked straight from ao3—
“what’s paige like?” well. to put it simply. she is every last ounce of karma that steve has earned by lovingly terrorizing his best friend 😌
i feel like the overall theme got covered enough with this to tell if the plot is for you or not. flirting starts next, but isn't super blatant until chap 4. i am in zero rush and will have no problem with dedicating an entire chap to cuddling tbh, this is a comfort project im in for the long haul. check back later for * to get full smut taste, current (possibly changing) map has it in chap 9. OR you can check back for kinktober, i have all 31 days outlined for these idiots. i need starfield to be good so i can do smut for that too, bethesda pls
keep in mind this will get sci-fi weird at times, and loosely ref/revolve around greek myth tropes bc iiiii like ‘em ❤️ im a fandom ancient who takes no issue with cleaning out the dickhead comments 😌 also i might edit shit. im still not clear on what ao3 will email about a bookmark (god willing its not edits that dont include a new chapter) but just in case i figured id warn for anyone who doesn't want email spam
im gonna try to keep ava and paige as vague as possible, aside from a few scattered physical details so i have SOMETHING to write. my favorite bucky fic in existence is a reader!fic (safe with me is Ungodly levels of good, and i dont just say that as a fellow west wing addict. i constantly forget that his apartment in it isn't actually canon and there're no m&ms hiding for eternity somewhere) so you wont get any judgment from me on replacing both of them right down to their names, that’s how im writing them!! it just feels unfair to tag it a reader fic with them being given SUCH a heavy “presence" i guess
main pov's (the undated ones) will always flip between bucky and ava. the dated ones are other characters pov's OOOOOOR its a flashback in which case it could be the two of them, but ill always try to make it clear whose headspace is focused up front, so i dont think ive set up a hurdle there
thanks for reading ❤️ i love and appreciate feedback immensely ❤️ feeds the brain chemicals 😌 no worries abt spoilers, i feel like anyone looking there knows what theyre risking lmao
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strawwritesfic · 2 years
Text
TYB!Byakuran Gesso x Female!Reader: Stay
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Summary: If this is to be your fate, you’ve seen it turn out much, much worse.
Rating/Warnings/Tags: All (Set during Curse of the Rainbow arc; no honorifics; not canon compliant; mafia!Reader; Millifiore!Reader; Reader’s flame unspecified; heavy exposition)
Challenge:  “160 Collective Drabbles” challenge by BobaPop on Lunaescence Archives.
Tag List: @imaginesfire​
Stay
Your life certainly wasn’t taking the path you had expected. Once a normal high school student with aspirations of going to college and making something of yourself, everything had come to a grinding halt when you’d woke up one morning with bizarre visions of the future. At first, you were quite content to pass them off as dreams. You, work for the mafia? You, dress in that ridiculous uniform? You, the sole romantic companion of that insane, white-haired man? Your subconscious must have been working overtime.
Or so you thought…until that same man–a boy now, really; no older than yourself–appeared flying next to your window at home. By the time Byakuran had convinced you to let him in, and then finished telling his story, you really had no option of writing him off as a hallucination, though several times later you wished you could have.
This strange introduction was what began something you could only describe as a downward spiral. Soon you were spending your afternoons after school with a crowd of rainbow-haired delinquents, and spending your time in school trying to keep Byakuran from getting you in trouble. Somehow you couldn’t believe this easy-going, hyperactive youth was the same boy that grew up to be the brutal, sadistic mafia leader that you’d seen. It was you keeping him line more often not nowadays.
Still, everything might have turned out alright had he not decided, out of the blue, to drag you to Japan.
“Japan? Are you kidding me? What are we supposed to do there?” you demanded after he'd announced his little edict to you on one of your nightly rooftop meetings.
“We’ve got a tournament to enter! We’ll be fighting…well, you won’t, I guess. You haven’t learned how yet, have you, [Name]?” His Cheshire grin made it plain you were meant to feel some insult.
Instead, you rolled your eyes. “I can’t just go off to Japan, Byakuran. I have school.”
“So quit,” he’d said, and did one of his little flips. Give a teenage boy a pair of wings and apparently he wouldn’t stop using them. “It’s not like you need a job anymore. You’re in the Millifiore.”
“I am not.”
He only flashed you another smile. “Besides, you’ll like Yuni. I’m sure of it.”
Whatever you said to the contrary, you really were a part of his little family. Your parents, when they finally found out their daughter was a member of the mafia, were going to be so proud. But that would have to wait, because you were soon on your way to a foreign country, meeting Byakuran’s old enemies–who seemed oddly content to forgive him for past-future faults–and watching your group get pounded in the name of a young girl–who, more oddly, looked exactly the same as she had in your visions.
But the final nail in the coffin of future Byakuran’s badassery was the idiotic stunt he and some of the other teams put together for the last round. Sure, they won, thanks entirely to Tsuna, but Byakuran didn’t come out of it with all his limbs intact. By all counts, he should have died. Yet there he lay in the bed, entirely whole, pouting up at you. All you could think of was the madman spurting blood from his back and savaging a fourteen-year-old boy. Oh, how the mighty had fallen.
“What’s that look for, [Name]?” he asked. “Feeling pity for your beloved boss?”
“Actually, I was thinking about how pathetic you are.”
“I’ve had worse,” Byakuran purred. “You know that. Don’t be so cold.”
“Seriously. What the hell?”
“You are worried! Don’t, [Name]. I’ll be better soon.”
“In that case,” you turned away, “I’ll just be leaving.”
“Wait.” His hand brushed against your wrist, though he did nothing further to restrain you. A brief but violent debate raged in your head until, at last, you spun back around to look at him. “Don’t go. Stay.”
“Why should I? You’ve been nothing but trouble since you showed up, and now you’re making me concerned for you.”
“Eh? Trouble?” For once, his violet eyes opened wide. They slid shut again a second later in another grin. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to cause you any trouble, [Name].”
“Bullshit.”
“It’s not, though! I like you, [Name]. I like you, and I think I have a chance to do things right this time.”
“Right?” you echoed.
He nodded. “I wasn’t very nice to you in the future. I want to make it up to you!”
With a long grumble of a sigh, you sank onto the chair next to Byakuran’s bed. “You want to make it up to me by interrupting me at school and dragging me along to dangerous fighting exhibitions with your team of misfits?”
“But you’re part of my team of misfits,” he said with a shrug. “And I just want to spend more time with you."
You answered with silence. Defeat was a thing you knew when you saw it. Still, you frowned at him until he lifted his hand again and placed it on top of the one you had resting on his blanket.
“Please don’t leave me, [Name]. Stay.”
You stared a moment longer. Byakuran’s smile softened at the edges. Slowly, you turned your hand over to hold his more properly. 
Maybe you’d been fighting this for too long. Clearly, the you from the future had had feelings for Byakuran even when he’d been a monster. It was nearly impossible to prevent yourself feeling those same things toward Byakuran when he treated you affectionately at every turn.
“You’re so annoying,” you murmured as you rested your arms and chin on his bed.
With the widest smile yet, Byakuran got himself more comfortable. “Love you, too, [Name].”
At least the prevented you having to speak the words yourself. It was late. You let your eyes drift shut. Right before you fell asleep, you thought you might have felt him playing with your hair.
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iceprincessviviane · 3 years
Text
Eyes in the darkness
Paring: Yandere!C!Technoblade x BookwormEnchanter!Female!Reader
Type: Romantic (Technoblade is yandere). Trilogy - part one. Next part.
Warnings: swearing, possessivness, yandere, angst, injury, sugestive content, threats, blood, silly jokes created by me.
Summary: Technoblade was watching Y/N for some time, trying to stay in the shadows. Unfortunately voices and thoughts won against the logic and he want her now on his side forever.
Author's note: Inspiration from a lot of things, but especially: Hades and Persephone, Beauty and the Beast. This used to be oneshot, but I changed my mind, ut will be trilogy. English isn't my first language, so sorry for any mistakes.
Words in red colour are Technoblade's voices.
Words in blue colour are Y/N thoughts.
Y/N didn’t know when was the last time she ran for her life. Probably during one of the pillagers attack on the village or maybe in the Nether. But none of them was that type. Now she was being chased by something way much more dangerous than besties. At the moment, she’s being followed by the Blood God himself. Despite the aching and pain of her muscles and her throat feeling dry from gasping for air, Y/N was still asking herself how did on earth this happen?
~*~
Y/N always loved books and reading, she came to Smp two weeks after Foolish arrival. Actually her friendship with him leaded her here. They exchanged the letters and she was interested in staying somewhere for a while. After some time, she decided to come. Her divine friend already started to build his summer home and had few buildings done. She stayed there for few couple of days, they decided to build something for herself. She already have met most of Smp members including Dream Team, Bench Trio and rest, but owning home, place for stay was good idea. Sometimes Y/N liked to be alone. Eret allowed her to build something behind his castle, it was always nice to have someone close.
It took time before she ended house, it was cozy one with big field in front, farms, cellars and most important - library with enchanting place. It was huge, biggest part of the house with plenty of regals and reading spots. Y/N loved to spend there time and collectin more books or texts. Foolish had a lot of ancient scrolls or manuscripts and liked to share them with her. They could spend hours discussing about their favourite ones.
Books caused that Y/N met Phil, because he was the second person on the Smp, which had great collection from centauries. Shark god took her at trip to Tundra. Y/N was excited to meet such person and nervous too. Happily, everything went all right, Technoblade wasn't that time in home, so they had chilling conversation. Winged man was very curious about her skills and enchants. Of course during his travells and lifespan he met enchanters, but didn't paid much attention to them. Now, he could meet one in chill ocassion. Their three had a lot of talking, giggling and being wholesome. Phil promised to borrow more interesting books and Y/N said, that she can give some enchantments.
When Technoblade came back he immediately felt, that Foolish was there with... someone else... someone new. It smelled like pine and old paper, very nice. Phil told him about visitors and Y/N, he ignored it a little bit, but voices... voices liked this smell a lot.
'So strange.' 'Which woman can smell like that?' 'Where is she living?'
}*{
Y/N was peaceful person with no intention to harm anybody, staying in her place. She stayed in positive relations with almost everyone, providing needed enchantments and helping caused, that a lot of members were friendly to her. Y/N liked to hanging out with Bench Trio, although they were sometimes so chaotic. Usually she went mining with Ranboo, when it was needed, cutting trees with Tommy for his buildings and staying in Snowchester with Tubbo. That is why she came with almost everyone, when Tommy and Tubbo were in Dream bunkier fighting with him. Discs were just items, but... Dream's obsession, it was dangerous and teenagers were her friends. After that a lot of things changed. Putting him into Pandora's Vault was meant to protect them, but she was getting cold shivers each time she looked at black walls of prison. Knowing that everyone could be locked there...
After Egg's influence grew stronger she tried to find some infromations about it and how could ghe possible defeat it, but that took time. Foolish and Phil were so helpful handing their ancient texts, to make research. Suddenly with crimson vines everywhere, Smp became less safer, at least she felt it that way. More members were busy with their business and stuff, they finally could do them, when Dream was locked. For example Foolish agreed to build big mansion for Tubbo and Ranboo, which got platonical marriage and Tommy started his hotel. Meeting Michael was so wholesome and funny, little zombie piglin started to like her and at each visit she read him fairy tales and stories.
Y/N decided to not think about bad sides of Smp, just being busy and tried to help, if someone needed it. Before Doomsday wandering around could be dangerous, especially for La'Manburg citizens, because Dream and Technoblade were unpleasant for them. Now she enjoyed visiting almost everyone everywhere. After a few visits, she could tell that something was wrong, Y/N couldn't tell what, but it was almost like being watched, blaming Egg and vines was her answer for that, but actually why? Why did it do that? She would never joined their side. Never ever. Sometimes she spotted the Phil's corws, but that wasn't a s surprise, birds were telling him a lot of informations around the Smp. Easy way to know almost everything.
}*{
Y/N was heading to her house, stepping at Prime Path. In opposite direction she spotted Quackity, slowly walking by from prison direction, which was surprise. She smiled softly to him and he smiled back.
"What's up?" Big Q asked when got closer to her.
"It's good I am coming back home, need to eat and get some nap, and you?"
"I... ended some buisness." His face stiffened and his look became more serious.
Y/N nodded little unsure about his changed emotions. Suddenly she spotted that his sleeve is covered in fresh blood.
"Are you hurt?" She asked worried.
Quckity looked at his shirt as surprised as she and frowned, he checked axe which hanged down from his belt.
"I guess so then, but I don't know where did that come from."
"Let me take care of this." Y/N suggested with warm smile. "My home is closer than Las Nevadas."
After a few moments he nodded in agreement. They together headed to her place. Weather started to become stormy, dark cloud covered the sun, threating to start raining.
Then went inside, but when she was closing door, feeling of being watched hit her with dubled strength. House was in the spine forest, but fenced and had a gate. In filed were some farms, trees and small garden, but everything seemed to look normal. Big Q sat on the couch in living room and Y/N brought bandages, water in bowl and even healing potion. He rose sleeve, wound wasn't long, but deep, something cut his arm, probably weapon.
"It doesn't look good, but you will be okay." She said after looking at cut.
"Good." He sighed with relief.
"What did make it? Do you have an idea?"
Big Q looked dead in her eyes and remained silence. Of course he knew what, but he didn't even noticed the wound before leaving the prison. Well, someone will pay for this.
"Maybe working at Las Nevadas, you know... I am still building there." He spoke after a while.
"Oh... ye you have right, but be careful next time." Y/N suggested and started to work on cut carefuly. Starting on cleaning, then gently bandaged it.
"Thank you." Big Q said after seeing the results.
"No problem, just don't walk around with untreated wound." Y/N giggled softly.
He stood up and moved his eyes on windows. Black clouds didn't go away, even became worse.
"I will go now, weather is getting worse, I want to be in home before storm." Big Q said with soft smile.
"Of course, see you next time."
After he left, big storm came, darkness fell upon the Smp, rain and wind were too strong, for coming outside. Y/N decieded to take a chance and nap. She baked some cookies and sit down on a couch with another book, which Phil borrowed her. Only the torches gave light, sometimes thunderbolt stroke and filled room with unatural blue light. Drops hit hardly, making loud sounds, but Y/N was too much into a book. Two hours has passed and slowly night was coming. She moved eyes to meet clock, yep that was supper time, put the book away and up, Gods thr storm didn't let go. Y/N watched for a while outside, then go to kitched. She grabbed blanket and wrapped it around her posture, damn there were cold.
Again feeling of being watched kicked in. She was alone at home, that was sure thing. Outside was deep dark and behind the windows was the wall of the water. Y/N bite her lip and shook head, it was just her imagination, a feeling which stayed for no reason after putting Dream into Pandora's Vault. She took an kettle and suddenly was seeing something in the corner of the eye, something red and unusual in the spine forest. Her figure frozen when she moved back eyes. Deep in the dark, around sprouce trees in the line of forest, Y/N spotted pair of shinning, red eyes, high above the ground. They were locked at her figure.
'This has to be spider... or something else...'
Right after this thought, ceature turned back and disappeard in the darkness, cold shiver went down at Y/N spine. What was that? And why it was here? At least she was safe in home...
}*{
'More.' 'Training is boring, let's find someone to fight.' 'We demand blood.'
Technoblade sighed and stopped, voices today were very, very loud. That was why he decided to train, but during it, they became even worse. He hid sword and walked into home. Phil wasn't here today, he had to do something, but didn't bother to tell him what it was. Blade went back to home by his old path through the forest. His training place was near the cottage, but still hidden from common people. All members of Syndicate knew where it was. First of all he need to take shower. When cold water touched his skin, he felt like even his bloodlust became less, quiet hiss left his lips. He earned some chafings this week. Next, he changed his clothes to common and made a cup of tea, then sit in the kitchen. Immediately his thoughts went to Y/N.
Somehow voices were acting diffrent around her and he even found himself acting that way. They were focused around Y/N and he was more calm, like just her pressence was comforting him. Technoblade remembered their first meeting, it was common day, when someone knocked on the door. He opened it and rose his eyebrows in surprise, outside was standing fragile woman, without any armor and only with trident on her back. They shared awkward eye contact, when suddenly she introduced herself as Y/N. Of course he saw her couple of times, but it wasn't officialy. Y/N has known who was he for sure, she swallowed hard and looked down with shyness. Phil yelled across the room, that she could come in. Ah yes... she loved to read books and his old friend was borrowing her them a lot. Technoblade again felt the spine and old papers smell, for him, it could stay here forever. After short visit, Y/N took books, gave back book of enchantment and left.
Techno's curiosity has increased, when he heard about her more. She was peaceful, friendly soul, completly opposite of him, maybe that was, why he felt so... diffrent around her and voices too. Piglin hybrid enjoyed watching her from the distance, in the shadows, but lately... lately it wasn't enough. Now he wanted to breathe at Y/N scent, holding her close and pressed soft kisses at forehead. He was under voices pressure so long and now his salvation was so close. But what would he make it? As longer he has thought of that, a diffrent ideas came to his head. She was delicate creature, he had to get plan at all. Techno knew almost everything about her: hobbies, traditions, friends and fighting skills. Phil told him a lot about enchanters, they could make enchanting books after years of studying and had magic talent sometimes. As they knew, Y/N could enchant books at any spell, so she had to studied a lot. Technoblade sighed and grabbed his cloak, time to keep an eye on few things.
'Let's not go quietly!' 'Let's go quiet as grave...' 'Blood for the Blood God!'
}*{
That was busy week, Y/N could only one time saw Foolish and Phil, but whole Smp seemed a little bit diffrent... luckily she was able to go on mining trip with Ranboo and Eret visited her with a couple of books, which were about Smp. Now was afternoon and sun slowly started to set, she was heading to her house, where waited for her snow fox, which she found in Snowchester. Cute, little ball of fur stole Y/N heart immediately. When she finally stepped inside, Snowflake - that how she named it, ran into her squeaking high.
"What happend my little one?" She knelt down and pet it's head.
Fox looked at her with big brown eyes and squeaked once more, then jump into her arms.
"Oh oh oh... are you afraid of something?" Y/N hugged Snowflake and looked around. Everything in home seemed normal, door was closed, in a field same, animals were quite nervous, but everything was good. She frowned and stepped inside, then put fox into basket with small blanket.
"I will bring you some berries, you will like it for sure." Y/N smiled gently.
Unfortunately, she didn't have any at this moment in home, Snowflake was there only for three days, so she couldn't make berries farm so fast, because she had to set up a space. Luckily, she lived around coniferous forest, so didn't even hesiatate, Y/N just grabbed backpack and went outside. Sun was lower in the sky, but still it was warm and brightly. Birds were humming quietly and around was quite quiet. Berries bush weren't so far, she founed some, but in order to make supplies, decided to find more, then plant them around the house. It would spared the time and work.
"Y/N." She heard deep, lazy voice and immediately turned at it's direction.
The Blade was standing under big sprouce tree with satisfied grinn on his lips. Eyes locked on Y/N figure, which completly froze at the sight of him. She have never been with him alone, in tundra always Phil or Ranboo were around, now it felt... strange and risky, she still remembered what happend to La'Manburg citizens.
"Technoblade." Y/N spoke softly, being careful to not crack her voice, despite building feeling of fear. She noticed, that piglin hybrid under his royal, crimson cloak was wearing armor, probably not his best one, but still enough to win fight. Part of hair made into bun, rest were freely in his back and shoulders. From his belt was hanging netherite sword and netherite axe was sticking out from behind. She spotted, that his weapons were a little covered in blood, same as his sleeves and parts of shirt. He was killing monsters right? Or just hunting? Uncomfortable, awkward silence reminded between them, only forest noises distrubed it from time to time.
Voices were too loud today, too agressive, too greedy, killing monsters and pillagers wasn't enough, Quackity has already tasted his steel, well he deserved that after showing up in Y/N home. He had so much fun with him, but after that he needed some rest, comfort and calm. That is why without even thinking too much Technoblade went straight to Y/N house. He hoped, that everything will change, that he finally will has some break from voices, violence and killing. Of course he liked his way to be... but yes sometimes, you have to make a nap.
"Are you wounded?" Y/N asked quietly breaking the silence. After all, if he needed help, she would help him, without hesitation.
Technoblade's grinn became more sinister, he put hand on sword hilt and slowly tilted his head on right side.
"This isn't my blood." He said without caring at all.
"Oh, that's good then..." Y/N whispered, but he could hear that.
Piglin hybrid studied her posture, she had only trident at her back, backpack in left hand, no armor, no more weapons. Poor little girl, that's not how you are going outside your home, she was literally unarmed in his eyes.
"So... what are you doing here? Alone? In the forest?" Technoblade asked and moved closer to her.
The way he spoke these words, made Y/N shiver inside, outside, she grabbed her backpack harder. Surely there was nothing to worry about, she has never done something wrong to him or Philza, she wasn't dangerous or wanted to has any power. Techno is probably just passing by. Suddenly he was so close, now she could for real see the height diffrence, for the gods sake, her head reached around his breastbone. Y/N looked up only to meet piglin hybrid's burning gaze.
"I... I was collecting berries for my snow fox. Something scared her, so I thought that she will calm down after getting some and I ran out of them..." she suttered and swallow hard.
"How sweet." Technoblade commented and his smile widened.
"So... you are just passing by?"
"Not really."
Sudden grip on her chin caught Y/N off guard. Technoblade forced her to look straight into his eyes. His face stiffened a little bit, she hissed quietly, when claws touched harder gentle skin. Then she realised... Blade's eyes were red and she heard, that it could glow in darkness. Her skin became pale and pupils widened. It was him, that time during a storm, he was watching her...
"What are you doing?" Y/N asked quietly, without any clue, what was going on.
'She is so innocent.' 'We love her scent.' 'Let her know.'
"I have something to tell you." He leaned and immediately her scent hit him harder, resisting to take deep breath wasn't that easy.
"What excatly?"
"I was watching you for a while Y/N. Belive me or not I found that interesting, because your pressence is calming for me, I can fall asleep while listening your voice and push away my violence behaviour, when you are around." He stroked her cheek by his thumb and smiled haughty. "I am always getting , what I want and I want that so badly, you can't even imagine."
Y/N shook head and made few steps back, leaving his grip, couldn't belive what she just heard. That's impossible.
"I don't know what to say... I can admit, that I had strange feeling of being watching but... I blamed the Egg..." She looked deep into his eyes, trying to put everything together. "What do you mean, you are always getting, what are you want? How am I suppose to understand that?"
"Listen sweetheart, we can do this in two diffrent ways: good or bad. If you choose first one, fine politely you will go with me. Second way? Well I can be very convincing, when I want to." Technoblade frowned.
None of this options was good for her. Y/N sighed and her shoulders dropped. She couldn't do anything literally...
"Come on princess. I can take care of you, I promise, you will be happy." He gave her his hand, but gripped sword hilt harder.
Y/N always avoided the conflicts and argues, never has started any, that was easier and better way to live. She could take care of her interests, powers anf friends by being supportive or neutral. Technoblade's behaviour made her shiver and feel sick, there was no guarantee that he will keep his words, even if it were sweet and promising. Y/N knew that fighting him was pointlees, he were ten thousand better than her, she didn't even have armor or second weapon. But surrender just like that? Without any resistance? She always was determinated, miss 'you can always find a way, solution'. Not a chance.
"I think I have better option, which lay in the middle." Y/N smiled gently.
"Well, tell me then." Technoblade rose his eyebrows with curiosity.
With one smooth move, she put backpack on and immediately started to run. The Blade's pupils widened, he burst out laughing.
"It will be funny."
She has known, that she needed to lose him in forest. Going to home wouldn't help, because door or gate couldn't stop Blood God. Lost him and then ran away from Smp, at least her current living location. Y/N realized that she couldn't even ask for help anyone. Probably Technoblade would come after her friends, helpers, so that was it. Y/N versus The Blade, she was on her own.
'How did she dare to run away from us?!' 'Chase her, catch her.' 'Faster, faster, faster!'
It seemed like running away from Tommy for fun, came in handy and long trips with Ranboo caused her to move fast through forest. Y/N nimbly jumped over obstacles and avoid rocks or roots. Her pace wasn't the fastes, but she could hold it for pretty long time. She wasn't thinking a lot, just tried to run away as far as she could.
'Don't look back, don't look back, it will make you slower.'
Hiding could be good idea, but not now. As long as he was close, she couldn't stop at all. Breaking through the forest was only hearing noise, soon, she heard her heavy breathing. Heading to unknown direction wasn't so wisely, but Y/N had no choice. After a few minutes, she stopped to catch breath. Around was sudden so quiet, cold shiver went down at her spine. Too quiet.
"Already tired?" Technoblade's voice surprised her from left side.
She turned head, just to see him leaning against the tree. In his right hand he held sword, didn't even look like he was running.
"You can't outrun me little one. A lot of people tried, now they are dead." He aimed sword at her. "We can end this farce here. I am not mad, honestly, you made me smile a little bit."
"You will have to catch me, if you want me going with you." Y/N said and then continue to run away.
"Oh I will princess, that's what predator does to the prey."
Y/N started to feel really tired, muscles aching, throat dry from gasping for air, hair dispelled and cheeks red. She ran for a while, but now had to stop. Technoblade immediately appeared in her field of vision. He was walking carefuly, but still looked intimidating.
"Don't come closer!" She released a cry.
Piglin hybrid stopped about eight meters away. He leaned sword against the ground and looked at her with curious gaze.
'Here she is, our reward.' 'Let's finally take her with us.' 'We like that sound.'
"I think, I just caught you." A little grinn appeared on his lips.
She looked straight into his eyes. Her gaze full of fear met a calm and determination. Y/N didn't even want to think what would happend, if he fulfilled his desires. Gods sake, she was free human being, none could take her freedom, she didn't ask for this. In an act of desperation, with the last of her strength, she used her powers. Feeling of warm through fingers and energy drained from her veins, but then burning light. In Technoblade's towards direction flew literally fireball, but he was too skilled for this. He made a dodge and looked at Y/N with mix of proud and shock. She dropped to her knees, struggling to stay conscious, despite the pain at her whole body and tired mind and unclear vision. Technoblade immediately was with her, he knelt down and support her, by putting arm around her waist. Y/N leaned back against his chest, fatigue prevailed over reason.
"Enough for today princess. You run out, if you will keep resisting." He whispered calmly.
"Please, please... please I don't want this, I want to go home." Her voice was cracking, tears strimming down at her cheeks.
"Hush darling, everything will be all right."
Technoblade's body radiated warm, his tone suddenly was so calming and sleepy. She wanted to close eyes so badly, but still fear was too big.
"You are safe, nothing can hurt you I promise."
After this words Y/N gave up and lost consciousness. Sun went down and shadows became longer and darker.
}*{
Phil careful closed the doors, then walked quietly down. Technoblade sat in kitchen with cup of hot tea, he immediately looked at his old friend, his eyes were worrying.
"Y/N is good, she lost consciousness, because was too tired. You said that, she used her powers."
"It was literally fireball, but I dodge that easy."
"Well, now we know about her powers at least... interesting, what you are going to do, when she wake up?" Phil asked and sat in opposite site.
"I know, that you are not glad about this, but I will figure this out. She won't cause any troubles." Techno's voice became deeper.
Winged man sighed and looked at his friend. He knew what he was going through, when voices became louder and demanded blood, each moment of silence or when they were quiet, Technoblade cherished and tried to make it worth. Phil couldn't be angry or mad for his friend about that deed, but... he was torn.
"Come on spit it out. I can see that you want to tell something important." Piglin hybrid said slowly.
"We were through a lot of shit, we know each other for almost ages and we blew up the nation for gods sake, kidnapping isn't the worst thing you have done, but..." Phil started and looked at Techno. "I wish you best and everything good, but I don't know how will I act around. Y/N has come to me for books, we were talking about stuff, I gave her cookies and tea. How will I explain, that I am supporting your decision? And I am always on your side." Phil said aloud his worries.
"I will give her time to get used to. After certain amount of time Y/N will understand." The Blade was lost in his thoughts.
He was so greatful of his friend statement, but still a little bit unsure. This case shloudn't affect on their relationship or Phil's life. Honestly Technoblade belived that his pressence will comfort Y/N at least, as he said they were close and enjoyed each other company.
"Someone will notice her disappering. What then? And Ranboo is visiting us a lot." Phil sighed a little.
"I've got this, trust me."
"I trust you with my own life." Winged man nodded.
}*{
Sunlight kissed her skin gently, when it showed up on window. Y/N felt softness under herself and on her back. Quiet sigh left her lips, when she opened eyes. In the room was very bright, but for sure it wasn't her room. Immediately cold shiver went down at her spine. Still weak, she tried to lift herself, because she was lying on stomach. Bed was big, with good beddings and pillows.
"Don't move, you are still weak." Technoblade's voice was soft, but loud.
Y/N bite her lip and then lifted head. He was standing near the bed and observing curiously, looking completly diffrent. White, linen shirt and high waisted, leather trousers, hair braided tighly. In this version he was... more open and accessible, not so scary.
"Where am I?" She asked slowly and rolled at her back with quiet hiss. Muscles still hurt and throat was dry.
"In my house, in tundra safe and..." He cut off, while noticed that Y/N is trying to get up. "What did I say?" He stepped closer and sat on bed.
She sat unsure on mattress, just to met Technoblade here, he gripped again her chin, as in the forest and forced her to look at him. This time it was more gently.
"Darling please..."
"You can't take my freedom!"
His eyes darkened immediately and Y/N regreted her words. She swallowed hard, when Blade looked deep into her eyes.
"Of course I can and I will, if you don't behave good. If you didn't notice, you aren't chained or tied, but pretty comfy in my bed." He said slowly with threat in his voice. "Think about it."
Technoblade released her and got up. She looked down thinking about situation, yes he didn't tied her, but still it wasn't good case. Y/N just wanted to be free, do stuff which she want and meet friends. Maybe Smp wasn't perfect, but still now it was her home, there were a lot of wars or argues, but she still had house and persons which she cared about and this was mutual, now everything was unsure.
"I am just afraid... " Y/N whispered quietly.
"As I said earlier you are safe here, you are safe with me. Nothing can hurt you." Techno grabbed bowl with soup and came back. "Here, eat, you need to recover."
"Thanks." She smiled weakly to him, took bowl and started to eat slowly.
'Good girl.' 'She will behave for sure.' 'We can teach her a lesson.'
Y/N was napping for the rest of the day, Technoblade gave her one of their books, so she wasn't bored. Probably tomorrow or next day she will stand up.
The sound of closing doors, caused her to closed book and put it away. Piglin smiled gently and took off his shirt suddenly. Y/N eyes became big.
"Wait wait wait..."
"Calm down princess, I am just going to sleep, nothing else." Technoblade smirked for her panic.
"So... where shloud I move?" Y/N asked looking around the room.
"Nowhere. You are staying here with me."
Immediately her cheeks went slighty red. She looked at him curiously. His pink skin seemed gentle from the distance, a lot of scars marked his chest and arms. Some of them little, some of them large, the biggest one was through both sides of chest. Technoblade released his hair and came closer. Y/N moved to make him some space. He laid down, she followed his steps but remain distance.
"Goodnight." She said and turned back from him.
"Goodnight sweetheart."
He blow up torches near the bed and silence fell upon them. Not even a five minutes passed, when Y/N felt sudden grip on her waist. She froze, Technoblade hugged her and pressed kiss on her shoulder.
"What are you doing?" Quiet whisper left her lips.
"Snuggling and cuddling." He whispered softly.
Y/N couldn't help, she giggled quietly. Techno took this as premission, her back touched his chest and second hand slowly stroked her hair.
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Note
Hiiiii!!!!! Happy February! Do you know any good High school AU fics with 20,000 words or fics with Derek and Stiles being the same age in school?
Hi @leavederekalonepls! I wasn't sure if you meant more than or less than 20,000. (or exactly 20,000?) So I went with more! Cause I will read a million words of high school au anytime.
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A Thousand Fiery Suns of Angst - Just Press Play by apocryphal
(1/1 I 20,934 I Teen)
All Stiles wants from life is to learn to control his magic, keep his grades up, and not die horribly while saving Beacon Hills from supernatural threats. It's all going pretty well until Derek Hale, werewolf extraordinaire, has to go and ask him on a date. That asshole.
Tonight, the foxes hunt the hounds. by TheBeastsWrite (orphan_account)
(16/16 I 21,096 I Explicit)
Stiles always knew finding a mate would be hard for him. He's not bright and beautiful like Lydia, or stong like Danny or adorable like Scott.
He was just Stiles, fox kid with ADHD who loved to draw.
Derek Hale was everything, popular, strong, smart and gorgeous.
They get put together on an English assignment and it doesn't go at all like Stiles expects.
So Shed Your Skin and Lets Get Started by halfhardtorock
(2/2 I 21,108 I Explicit)
He's sixteen and in the woods on the wrong side of the town-line and he's so fucking fucked.
He knows he's not supposed to run, they teach that to you in preschool (don't run from a Were, back away slowly and walk with care), but they never told you how it would feel, standing alone in the dark with your heart beating in your throat as those glowing eyes tracked you from the shadows.
Baader-Meinhof Phenomenon by secondstar
(6/6 I 21,317 I Explicit)
Being a teenager sucks. Being a werewolf teenager sucks even more. With a life full of holding back who he really is, not having any privacy whatsoever, and the seemingly sudden appearance of one Stiles Stilinski, Derek Hale's life just got a whole lot harder.
We Are So Intimately Rearranged by secondstar
(10/10 I 28,785 I Explicit)
A High School AU where there are no werewolves and no hunters. Stiles is getting ready for his senior year when he meets Derek at the coffee shop he works at.
If you asked me if I love him, I’d lie by dereksstilinski (greyslittlediaries)
(18/18 I 37,305 I Explicit)
Derek has already typed the entire report out and even got all of the stuff prepared for the poster that Stiles and him will have to present. Derek found that he actually didn’t mind doing all the work when it was Stiles he was doing it for, but he wasn’t going to let Stiles get away completely. He was going to get Stiles to come over and help with the poster, so help him god.
You're The Comeback Kid by capeofstorm
(1/1 I 45,478 I Mature)
Derek Hale doesn't do friends, not after the fire that claimed his entire family and landed him in foster care. He just wants to graduate and get on with his life. But Laura always said he was a bleeding heart and that's how he ends up with Erica Reyes as his best friend after he helps her through a seizure one day.
Erica's not content with being the loser epileptic anymore, not now that she's Derek's friend. She intends to become the uncrowned queen of the school because running things from behind the scenes is always fun.
Add in Stiles Stilinski, the guy Derek can't help but notice and help with some bully trouble.
And how the hell did Erica talk him into taking Isaac Lahey under his wing?
Strut on a Line, its Discord and Rhyme by xiaq
(21/21 I 61,811 I Teen)
“Carry me,” Stiles says.
“No.”
“But I’m injured.”
“You have a rash,” Derek says. “On your arm. Your feet work just fine.”
“Please?”
“No. You weigh almost as much as I do. And you ate a pound of chicken at lunch.”
"Well, yeah, but I pooped like an hour ago, so.”
“You’re disgusting.”
“Don’t play, you love me.”
I do, Derek thinks, relatively horrified. I really do.
Just the Same by ericaismeg
(7/7 I 68,066 I General)
Something is seriously up with the captain of the lacrosse team. There's just no way Derek Hale is human. *** “I was wondering if you're even human. You move so quickly. I mean, it's ridiculously fast. No human should be able to move that fast, y'know? It's unfair for us. I mean, it's obvious you work out, and I don't, so that could be why, but like...I was just wondering if you were human, that's all.”
“Stop talking, Stilinski, or I'll—”
“Put me on the bench all season?” Stiles asks knowing full well that Derek Hale can't threaten him with shit.
Sowing Season by WeAreTheCyclones
(3/3 I 253,020 I Mature)
Just a bunch of kids doing teenage stuff: starting bands and terrorizing teachers and hurting like hell and falling for each other. The usual.
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doctorstethoscope · 3 years
Text
Fighting Crime || A. Hotchner & Reader
Back at it again with another one shot for @ssahotchswife ‘s soft Hotch Saturday! No smut this week sorry folks. 
Warnings: alcohol consumption, canon-typical mentions of kidnapping/violence, pregnancy, suggestive content
Word count: 1.7k
You finished your paperwork first, which wasn’t unusual. Gathering up your files, you trekked up the steps and knocked twice on the door to Aaron’s office before letting yourself in. 
“This is done,” you said, extending the folder towards him. “And luckily for you, I left out the logs of what exactly occurred in my hotel room between the hours of 12:38AM and--” 
“Trust me, my memory is plenty fresh on that.” He smirked up at you. 
“JJ and Penelope have called for a celebration of our heroism at the bar tonight,” you informed Aaron, who peeked over your shoulder at the clock hanging on his office wall. It was 4pm.  “We can have a couple drinks and still get Jack for dinner. It’ll be good to have some non-work related adult time.” You told him, 
“I think that if you refer to the log of what happened in your hotel room at 12:38AM, you’ll find my preferred non work related adult---”
“Aaron!” You cut him off with a laugh, and your smile seemed to relieve some of the tension in  his jaw.
“You go ahead,” he tells you. “I’ll see what I can do here. Either way, I’ll come pick you up and we can get Jack together.” 
“Okay boss,” you smiled, leaving his office to go check on Spencer, who usually finished around the same time as you. 
“I’m going to be a little while longer,” he sighs. “Why don’t you go to the bar and grab our booth?” He suggested, and you took his advice. 
It had been a long case, but a successful one-- the unsub confessed, and none of the hostages were hurt, so it was one worth celebrating for sure. You walked over to the team’s normal spot, enjoying the warmth of the DC sun on your face. Jimmy, the bartender, spots you as soon as you make your way into the bar. 
“Hey, princess!” He calls out to you with a smile.
“Hi Jimmy,” you greet him as you slide into a barstool 
“What are you doing here all by yourself?” He asks as he slides you your usual-- a vodka tonic with lime.
“I’m just getting a headstart. The rest of the team will be here soon, so I’m going to grab our booth before it gets crowded.” You explain to him.
“Okay doll, I’ll be by to check on you in a little bit.”
True to his word, Jimmy swung by with another vodka tonic about fifteen minutes later, and JJ walked in shortly afterwards. 
“Damn, you beat boy genius!” You congratulated her.
“I know, it has to be a new personal best,” she agrees with a laugh as Jimmy reappears, placing two shots on the table for you both. 
“Cheers to a successful case” you smiled, extending your shot glass in her direction. She bit her lip. 
“Oh, I’m not drinking tonight, actually,” she tells you.
“You’re pregnant!” You exclaimed, downing your shot. 
“How did you know?” She asked, laughing as she passes you her shot.
“Well, I didn’t, but it was a good guess.” 
“I’m not really ready to tell the whole team yet.” She tells you shyly, and you’re quick to reassure her. 
“Of course, Jayje. They won’t hear it from me.”
“Thank you. Now take that, because they’re coming and they need to think I drank it.” She says, gesturing to her shot. You downed it quickly before the rest of the team could make it to the table. 
“Ladies, ladies, you started without me?” Derek grinned as he slid into the booth next to JJ. 
You were pleasantly surprised to see Aaron slip in next to you. You took his hand and squeezed it in your own before kissing the back of it. “I thought for sure you’d be holed up in your office to avoid this,” you confessed. 
“Yeah, well, my girlfriend is a cute drunk,” he said, leaning in to press a kiss to your cheek and taking advantage of the proximity to whisper, “and I caught you drinking for two.”
You and Aaron were coming up on a year of dating, and had told the team a few months back. There was a novelty to being a couple in front of the people you loved most, somehow even more exciting than the sneaking around them, that hadn’t worn off yet. Aaron wrapped his arm around your shoulders and you put a hand on his thigh as Spencer and Emily went to get another round of drinks. 
“No one knows yet,” You whispered back to Aaron, but you knew he would keep JJ’s secret. He was good like that.
You attempt to keep up with the flow of conversation, but between the cocktails and the shots, you’re beginning to feel the effects of the alcohol, particularly on your empty stomach. Emily and Spencer return and pass you another vodka tonic, and you make a silent determination to nurse this one more slowly. You tilt your chin up towards Aaron, who is listening to Penelope tell Spencer about the new frozen yogurt place that opened up by her apartment.
“You okay?” He asked, lowly, so no one else would hear. 
“Yeah,” you smiled back up at him.
“You’re drunk.” He states, chuckling at you.
“Noooo,” you argued, drunkenly. Luckily, Derek saves you from yourself. 
“Hotchner, you can’t monopolize her just because she’s your girl now. We all remember who took care of her when she first got here.” He teases Aaron, and you laugh. It was true. Aaron had been hard on you at the beginning, but Morgan took you under his wing. He took good care of you. “Come on pretty thing, we’re dancing.” Derek extends his hand towards you, and you see Emily and Penelope waiting for you as well. 
You sat up, untangling yourself from Aaron before giving him a quick peck, grabbing your drink, and practically racing the three of them to the dance floor. It felt like college, in all the best ways. The job was so stressful, and you didn’t let yourself get away from it nearly enough. Throwing your arms up in the air with Emily, letting Morgan catch you when you stumbled, and laughing with Garcia as she brought you another shot of who-knows-what, it felt like the Friday night after you turned in a term paper. Total bliss, fuck the consequences. 
“Guys, we have a case. It’s urgent, and it’s bad.” JJ came to pull you all off of the dance floor. 
Well, so much for fuck the consequences. You put a hand on Morgan’s wrist, a silent sign for him to support you-- you weren’t even sure if you could make it back to the office without stumbling. He placed a hand on the small of your back and guided you out of the bar, where the team was waiting in the street. You reached for Aaron and linked your arm with his. Even with his support, you stumbled at the brisk pace and the uneven ground of the cobblestones downtown.
“You can’t work like this,” he said once you were back in the elevator at Quantico. He wasn’t judging you or being mean-- but as both your supervisor and your boyfriend, he was concerned. “Maybe Jess can swing by and take you home, you can read Jack his bedtime story and sleep some of this off--” He said, as you all stepped out of the elevator and back into the office.
“Noo, Aaron!” You whined. “I want to fight crime!” You protested, pouting. If there was any doubt that you were drunk before, it was gone now. You heard Emily stifle a laugh from somewhere behind you. 
“Hotch, you’re going to send her home just to have her take a nap to sober up and then meet us out there? That doesn’t make any sense,” Morgan argues, but there’s no bite behind it. 
“Yeah, plus you need me to help you fight crime,” You add helpfully as Aaron directed you to your desk and all but placed you in your chair. 
“It’s a four hour flight. She can sleep on the plane,” JJ suggests as she brings you a cup of coffee, which you sip on gratefully. 
You could tell, even in your drunken state, that Aaron was torn, and you felt bad. As your supervisor, he knew he should send you home. As your boyfriend, he would certainly feel better if you were nearby, not to mention the fact that leaving you here meant you’d have to fly commercial to Montana the next morning, not on the safety of the team’s jet. He took a deep breath before making a determination. 
“You are going to eat something now, when we brief, and then you are going to sleep on the plane. You will not go into the field or to the crime scene until I say so. You will go straight to the police precinct, talk to no one, and start on the geographic profile with Reid. Is that clear?” 
“Yes sir,” you squeaked out, and the team erupted in giggles.
“Good girl,” he whispered for only you to hear.
45 minutes later, you had all but inhaled the fast food that Reid had brought you, and you were following Aaron out to the jet. You were the first ones on, and Aaron led you over to the couch, foregoing his normal spot for one where you’d be more comfortable sleeping. He pulled your favorite throw blanket out of your go-bag and covered you up, your head in his lap and your legs splayed out over the other end of the couch, 
“I’m sorry,” you mumbled, and he pushed a stray piece of hair out of your face.
“You don’t have to be sorry,” he tells you. “You didn’t know we would be called on another case.” 
“I know. That didn’t make it any easier on you, though.” 
“You shouldn’t worry about me so much,” he’s quick to correct you. 
“Says the man who’s letting me sleep my drunkenness off on an FBI jet so that he doesn’t have to let me out of his sight,” you teased him.
“Well, you wanted to fight crime so badly. How could I say no?” He smiled down at you. 
“I love you.”
“I love you too, sweetheart. Get some sleep.”
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littlemixnet · 3 years
Quote
To me, a good ally is someone who is consistent in their efforts – there’s a difference between popping on a pride playlist or sprinkling yourself in rainbow glitter once a year and actually defending LGBT+ people against discrimination. It means showing my LGBT+ fans that I support them wholeheartedly and am making a conscious effort to educate myself, raise awareness and show up whenever they need me to. It would be wrong of me to benefit from the community as a musician without actually standing up and doing what I can to support. As someone in the public eye, it’s important to make sure your efforts are not performative or opportunistic. I’m always working on my allyship and am very much aware that I’ve still got a lot of unlearning and learning to do. There are too many what I call ‘dormant allies’, believing in equality but not really doing more than liking or reposting your LGBT+ mate’s content now and again. Imagine if that friend then saw you at the next march, or signing your name on the next petition fighting for their rights? Being an ally is also about making a conscious effort to use the right language and pronouns, and I recently read a book by Glennon Doyle who spoke of her annoyance and disappointment of those who come out and are met with ‘We love you…no matter what’. I’d never thought of that expression like that before and it really struck a chord with me. ‘No matter what’ suggests you are flawed. Being LGBT+ is not a flaw. Altering your language and being conscious of creating a more comfortable environment for your LGBT+ family and friends is a good start. Nobody is expecting you to suddenly know it all, I don’t think there’s such a thing as a perfect ally. I’m still very much learning. Even recently, after our Confetti music video I was confronted with the fact that although we made sure our video was incredibly inclusive, we hadn’t brought in any actual drag kings. Some were frustrated, and they had every right to be. You can have the right intentions and still fall short. As an open ally I should have thought about that, and I hadn’t, and for that I apologise. Since then I’ve been doing more research on drag king culture, because it’s definitely something I didn’t know enough about, whether that was because it isn’t as mainstream yet mixed with my own ignorance. But the point is we mess up, we apologise, we learn from it and we move forward with that knowledge. Don’t let the fear of f**king up scare you off. And make sure you are speaking alongside the community, not for the community. Growing up in a small Northern working-class town, some views were, and probably still are, quite ‘old fashioned’ and small-minded. I witnessed homophobia at an early age. It was a common thought particularly among men that it was wrong to be anything but heterosexual. I knew very early on I didn’t agree with this, but wasn’t educated or aware enough on how to combat it. I did a lot of performing arts growing up and within that space I had many LGBT+ (mainly gay) friends. I’ve been a beard many a time let me tell you! But it was infuriating to see friends not feel like they could truly be themselves. When I moved to London I felt incredibly lonely and like I didn’t fit in. It was my gay friends (mainly my friend and hairstylist, Aaron Carlo) who took me under their wing and into their world. Walking into those gay bars or events like Sink The Pink, it was probably the first time I felt like I was in a space where everyone in that room was celebrated exactly as they are. It was like walking into a magical wonderland. I got it. I clicked with everyone. My whole life I struggled with identity – being mixed race for me meant not feeling white enough, or black enough, or Arab enough. I was a ‘tomboy’ and very nerdy. I suppose on a personal level that maybe played a part in why I felt such a connection or understanding of why those spaces for the LGBT+ community are so important. One of the most obvious examples of first realising Little Mix was having an effect in the community was that I couldn’t enter a gay bar without hearing a Little Mix song and watching numerous people break out into full choreo from our videos! I spent the first few years of our career seeing this unfold and knowing the LGBT+ fan base were there, but it wasn’t until I got my own Instagram or started properly going through Twitter DMs that I realised a lot of our LGBT+ fans were reaching out to us on a daily basis saying how much our music meant to them. I received a message from a boy in the Middle East who hadn’t come out because in his country homosexuality is illegal. His partner tragically took their own life and he said our music not only helped him get through it, but gave him the courage to start a new life somewhere else where he could be out and proud. There are countless other stories like theirs, which kind of kickstarted me into being a better ally. Another standout moment would be when we performed in Dubai in 2019. We were told numerous times to ‘abide by the rules’, which meant not promoting anything LGBT+ or too female-empowering (cut to us serving a four-part harmony to Salute). In my mind, we either didn’t go or we’d go and make a point. When Secret Love Song came on, we performed it with the LGBT+ flag taking up the whole screen behind us. The crowd went wild, I could see fans crying and singing along in the audience and when we returned it was everywhere in the press. I saw so many positive tweets and messages from the community. It made laying in our hotel rooms s**tting ourselves that we’d get arrested that night more than worth it. It was through our fans and through my friends I realised I need to be doing more in my allyship. One of the first steps in this was meeting with the team at Stonewall to help with my ally education and discussing how I could be using my platform to help them and in turn the community. Right now, and during lockdown, I’d say my ally journey has been a lot of reading on LGBT+ history, donating to the right charities and raising awareness on current issues such as the conversion therapy ban and the fight for equality of trans lives. Stonewall is facing media attacks for its trans-inclusive strategies and there is an alarming amount of seemingly increasing transphobia in the UK today and we need to be doing more to stand with the trans community. Still, there is definitely a pressure I feel as someone in the public eye to constantly be saying and doing the right things, especially with cancel culture becoming more popular. I s**t myself before most interviews now, on edge that the interviewer might be waiting for me to ‘slip up’ or I might say something that can be misconstrued. Sometimes what can be well understood talking to a journalist or a friend doesn’t always translate as well written down, which has definitely happened to me before. There’ve been moments where I’ve (though well intentioned) said the wrong thing and had an army of Twitter warriors come at me. Don’t get me wrong, there are obviously more serious levels of f**king up that are worthy of a cancelling. But it was quite daunting to me to think that all of my previous allyship could be forgotten for not getting something right once. When that’s happened to me before I’ve scared myself into thinking I should STFU and not say anything, but I have to remember that I am human, I’m going to f**k up now and again and as long as I’m continuing to educate myself to do better next time then that’s OK. I’m never going to stop being an ally so I need to accept that there’ll be trickier moments along the way. I think that might be how some people may feel, like they’re scared to speak up as an ally in case they say the wrong thing and face backlash. Just apologise to the people who need to be apologised to, and show that you’re doing what you can to do better and continue the good fight. Don’t burden the community with your guilt. When it comes to the music industry, I’m definitely seeing a lot more LGBT+ artists come through and thrive, which is amazing. Labels, managements, distributors and so forth need to make sure they’re not just benefiting from LGBT+ artists but show they’re doing more to actually stand with them and create environments where those artists and their fans feel safe. A lot of feedback I see from the community when coming to our shows is that they’re in a space where they feel completely free and accepted, which I love. I get offered so many opportunities to do with LGBT+ based shows or deals and while it’s obviously flattering, I turn most of them down and suggest they give the gig to someone more worthy of that role. But really, I shouldn’t have to say that in the first place. The fee for any job I do take that feels right for me but has come in as part of the community goes to LGBT+ charities. That’s not me blowing smoke up my own arse, I just think the more of us and big companies that do that, the better. We need more artists, more visibility, more LGBT+ mainstream shows, more shows on LGBT+ history and more artists standing up as allies. We have huge platforms and such an influence on our fans – show them you’re standing by them. I’ve seen insanely talented LGBT+ artist friends in the industry who are only recently getting the credit they deserve. It’s amazing but it’s telling that it takes so long. It’s almost expected that it will be a tougher ride. We also need more understanding and action on the intersectionality between being LGBT+ and BAME. Racism exists in and out of the community and it would be great to see more and more companies in the industry doing more to combat that. The more we see these shows like Drag Race on our screens, the more we can celebrate difference. Ever since I was a little girl, my family would go to Benidorm and we’d watch these glamorous, hilarious Queens onstage; I was hooked. I grew up listening to and loving the big divas – Diana Ross (my fave), Cher, Shirley Bassey, and all the queens would emulate them. I was amazed at their big wigs, glittery overdrawn make-up and fabulous outfits. They were like big dolls. Most importantly, they were unapologetically whoever the f**k they wanted to be. As a shy girl who didn’t really understand why the world was telling me all the things I should be, I almost envied the queens but more than anything I adored them. Drag truly is an art form, and how incredible that every queen is different; there are so many different styles of drag and to me they symbolise courage and freedom of expression. Everything you envisioned your imaginary best friend to be, but it’s always been you. There’s a reason why the younger generation are loving shows like Drag Race. These kids can watch this show and not only be thoroughly entertained, but be inspired by these incredible people who are unapologetically themselves, sharing their touching stories and who create their own support systems and drag families around them. Now and again I think of when I’d see those Queens in Benidorm, and at the end they’d always sing I Am What I Am as they removed their wigs and smudged their make up off, and all the dads would be up on their feet cheering for them, some emotional, like they were proud. But that love would stop when they’d go back home, back to their conditioned life where toxic heteronormative behaviour is the status quo. Maybe if those same men saw drag culture on their screens they’d be more open to it becoming a part of their everyday life. I’ll never forget marching with Stonewall at Manchester Pride. I joined them as part of their young campaigners programme, and beforehand we sat and talked about allyship and all the young people there asked me questions while sharing some of their stories. We then began the march and I can’t explain the feeling and emotion watching these young people with so much passion, chanting and being cheered by the people they passed. All of these kids had their own personal struggles and stories but in this environment, they felt safe and completely proud to just be them. I knew the history of Pride and why we were marching, but it was something else seeing what Pride really means first hand. My advice for those who want to use their voice but aren’t sure how is, just do it hun. It’s really not a difficult task to stand up for communities that need you. Change can happen quicker with allyship.
Jade Thirlwall on the power, and pressures, of being an LGBT ally: ‘I’m gonna f**k up now and again’
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wrenhyperfixates · 4 years
Text
Anything
Pairing: Loki x reader Summary: When the Avengers latest mission is to visit local schools, Loki’s insecurities start to get the better of him. But with you to there comfort him, he realizes that with you by his side, he can do anything. Warnings: a little angsty, but mainly fluff A/N: Enjoy :)
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Disclaimer: Gif not mine
Loki frowned, looking out the window, down at the Avengers getting into Stark’s limo. They were doing some kind of awareness week at schools in the city, something or other about being a good citizen and staying safe. The God of Mischief had been invited to come, but he didn’t think it a particularly good idea. He’d never done anything with children before, and he wasn’t sure this was the best time to try.
“Loki?” you asked out of the blue. He whipped around at the sound of your voice. “What are you still doing here?”
“Oh, hello, darling. I just did not feel like going,” he said with a shrug. It wasn’t entirely a lie, but he still felt bad. “And what about you?”
“They insisted someone stay in case of an emergency call,” you explained. You weren’t totally sold on his excuse, but were terrified of pushing him, especially because things were going so well between you recently. “So that means we’re alone, right?”
“Yes, darling. Indeed, it does,” he replied, a smile curling on his lips.
Faster than lightning, Loki was pressing his lips to yours in a passionate kiss. You’d been dating for a little over a month, but were keeping it a secret from the rest of the Avengers. You both had your own reasons for that. Loki was afraid they wouldn’t approve and try to come between you. You, however were worried that Loki would put too much pressure on himself to be perfect if they knew, ending in him pulling away from you, convinced he wasn’t good enough. But either way, you agreed it was too soon to let them know. Soon, Loki had you pinned on the couch with his body, the raw desire in his kiss only growing. All too soon, you had to break for air, but you were quick to recapture his lips after catching your breath.
After a while, you were content to just lay with each other, cuddling while a movie played in the background. You were talking, and it reminded you of his flaky excuse from earlier. You were still worried about pressing, but god damn it, he was your boyfriend and you should be allowed to check on him.
“So...” you began.
“So?”
“So what’s the real reason why you didn’t go with the rest of the team?”
“Ah,” he said. “That.”
“Mhm. You don’t have to tell me,” you replied, caressing his cheek, “but you can always talk to me. I’m here for you, Loki. I promise.”
“I know, darling. Thank you,” he said against your skin as he nuzzled into your neck. He didn’t want to trouble you with what was on his mind, but your eyes were so innocent and full of adoration that he couldn’t resist. “I am afraid. Afraid that I would not be good with kids, that I would frighten them. Afraid that their parents would learn of my visit and cause an uproar. Afraid that I will never escape my past.”
“Oh, Loki,” you cooed, filled with compassion. You wanted to take his face in your hands, but he was still hiding in the crook of your neck. You settled for intertwining your fingers with his. “You are so, so much more than your past. New York wasn’t even your fault, for crying out loud. You are amazing, kind, insightful, compassionate, intelligent, beautiful. The list goes on and on, I assure you. The only way to deal with your fears is to face them head on, don’t you think? They may not even come true.”
You could feel his tears staining your skin, though he was obviously trying to hold them back. You were overcome with a powerful need to comfort him, to protect him from the world. It was so unfair that after all he’d been through, everyone who had hurt him, he blamed himself for all this. That he worried he wasn’t worthy of love when he was, in fact, the most deserving person you’d ever met.
“My darling,” he whispered, his voice breaking ever so slightly. Your chest swelled with pride as you realized you were one of the few—possibly the only—people he let himself be vulnerable with. “I cannot thank you enough for your words, truly.”
“You’re welcome, Loki,” you replied, taking a page out of his book and kissing the back of his hand. “You mean the world to me, my love.”
“And you the same to me,” he finally lifted his head up, and you turned to look at him. “I feel I can do anything with you at my side.”
“Does that mean what I think it does?”
“Yes. I will go with the rest of the team tomorrow if, and only if, you come with me.”
“Deal,” you agreed, kissing along his jawline and starting another make-out session.
Luckily, you heard the Avengers before you were in view of each other, giving you and Loki a chance to untangle yourselves and move to opposite ends of the couch. You shared a smile before turning your attentions to the TV as if that’s what you’d been doing the whole time.
“Well, I hope you two had a nice time while we were out doing hard work,” Tony joked.
“Tell you what,” you replied. “You get someone else to hold down the fort, and we’ll go tomorrow.”
“I’ll stay,” Bruce volunteered, a little too excitedly. He never was one for social settings. “Have fun.”
After catching up for a few minutes, you were all setting about your various tasks for the rest of the day. Before meeting Sam in the training room, you gave Loki’s hand a quick squeeze and pecked him on the cheek. Once you were gone, a feeling of dread settled in the pit of his stomach. But he’d meant what he said, and he was willing to do anything so long as you were there.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“What do you mean we can’t visit the same classroom?” you incredulously asked.
“It’s too slow,” Steve explained. “We cover more ground, so to speak, if we split up.”
“But can’t Loki and I be a pair? Please,” you pouted.
“Sorry guys,” he said. “We have to stick to the plan if we’re going to get to all the classes.”
You frowned as he walked away. You understood where he was coming from, but felt like he should have been able to make an exception. But it seemed like there was no getting him to budge, so you dropped the matter.
“Hey, at least our classes will be right next to each other,” you tried to comfort Loki as you all walked towards your assignments. “I’m sorry I can’t stay with you though. I know I promised.”
“Oh, my sweet darling,” Loki replied, pulling you aside to give you a quick kiss. “It is not your fault. It is some Midgardian rite of passage, is it not, to be scared on your first day of school?”
You smiled at the way he was cheering you up, despite obviously being very worried about the whole situation himself. Honestly, you really couldn’t fathom why anyone was afraid of this gentle, beautiful man before you. Why he was afraid of himself.
“I love you, Loki,” you said, giving him a big hug. He melted into your touch. “You’re going to be wonderful. You feel ok with this, right? We’ll figure something out if you don’t.”
“I shall muddle through, somehow,” he assured you. “It is like you said, I must face my fears.”
You gave him one last encouraging hug and smile before disappearing into the classroom you’d be talking in. He took a deep breath before knocking on the door of his assigned room. The teacher, a middle-aged man with hair starting to gray, welcomed him. It was a little unnerving to Loki that he seemed to have no qualms with the God of Mischief entering the threshold. The class, too, was watching him with nothing less than rapt attention and bright eyes. Perhaps you were right, after all, and not as many people as he thought were still holding onto the image he’d had when he first came to Midgard.
“Hello, children,” he began after a nervous gulp. “It is lovely to be here with you today.”
“Hello, Mr. Loki,” they chorused back.
As he began the talk on safety, he relaxed a bit. It was a room full of third graders, for Norns’ sake. He had faced off against fire serpents and sea monsters. Surely he could handle a group of kids. And as he soon found out, he was right indeed. More than handle, in fact; he was great with them! As he waltzed out of the room and into the next, he wondered if he might have a family of his own one day. He didn’t know how you felt about adopting, but he was starting to like the idea. It didn’t go too well for him in his childhood, but he could ensure that some other innocent kid won’t go through what he did. Besides, the circumstances were entirely different. Though, he supposed he was getting ahead of himself, imagining having a family with you. Still, it sent a thrill right to his heart.
After a very successful morning, he met back up with you. Being the first two done with the presentations, Loki took the opportunity to whisk you away to a secluded hallway to kiss you again.
“So it went well, I take it,” you laughed as you broke away.
“Just as you said it would, darling. I even had fun.”
“Well then, congratulations, my love. I think that deserves another kiss,” you said, wrapping your arms behind his neck.
“I think that you are right,” he agreed, tickling you a little.
As your lips met again, you heard a loud, overdramatic gasp that could only belong to Tony. You both sprung back from each other, realizing the hallway wasn’t as private as you’d originally believed. Besides Tony, the other Avengers were all standing there, taking in the scene too. Shooting each other a nervous glance, you and Loki braced yourselves for whatever came next.
“You two,” Tony said, feigning utter shock and hurt, “are dating? Woe is me! How could you keep this a secret from us, your dearest teammates?”
“Spare me, Stark,” Loki said, rolling his eyes and taking your hand. If you’d been found out, might as well be confident about it. “Yes, we are together. And I, for one, couldn’t be happier.”
“Neither could I,” you agreed, going to kiss him again.
“Now, now,” Tony interjected. He stood between you and put an arm over each of your shoulders, leading the way outside. “No kissing in the halls. But you know what? I think this is the start of an awesome era for the Avengers. Just think of all the jokes!”
You giggled as Loki rolled his eyes again, though he was fighting a losing battle with a grin. As you got into the limo, fingers locked once again, Loki began to accept something. It was right what you’d said about that not being the real him at the Battle of New York. No, he was himself now. Someone different, perhaps better and stronger than ever before. And it was you in a large part who had helped him see that. He knew in that moment that he’d been entirely right; with you by his side, he could do anything.
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Text
So Give Me Hope In The Darkness
Dukeceit Week Day 4: Free Day
Janus comes to him scared and broken. And there is nothing Remus wouldn’t do to help him. 
AO3 Link: [here]
Word Count: 8855
Warnings: violence, dehumanization/people as test subjects, implied past abuse.
@dukeceitweek <3
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“Remus, the transport’s here. You ready?”
Remus looked up from where he had been meticulously finishing the last fold on the absolute best paper airplane he had ever made in his life. “The what?”
Roman, leaning against the doorframe of Remus’ office, sighed deeply. “For the love of all things Disney and musical theatre, Remus, check your e-mail on a regular basis.”
Remus glanced at his desk. His laptop sat half-buried in crumpled up reject airplanes, the screen dark, so he slipped his phone from his pocket to check his e-mail with instead and… oops. One official work order, sent over 40 minutes ago, and three more messages from Virgil that all read somewhere along the lines of “Jesus Christ Remus respond to this so we know you read it.” Which, of course, he hadn’t. 
“Uh…” Remus said helplessly. Roman scrubbed a hand down his face, then motioned for Remus to follow as he stepped back out into the hallway. Remus scrambled after him.
“I’ll fill you in, but we need to hurry,” Roman said.
“The hell do they need me for? Wasn’t it just another one of those underground lab bullshit raids? Those always turn up fucking zilch.”
“Not this one,” Roman replied and, well, shit. Now Remus was interested enough to shut up and let his brother talk. “They actually found, like, the real headquarters. Evil scientists and all.”
“Fuck yeah, good for them. Logan and Virgil have been working themselves to the bone...r. But why do they need me?”
Roman gave him a look. It was his it’s time to be serious now, Remus look. “They found a, uh…” he hesitated, looking for the right word. “A test subject.”
“Oh.”
Well that answered that.
By this point, Roman had reached the door that led out to the parking garage. He stopped at the door and gave Remus a pointed look.
“Yeah, yeah, I know,” Remus muttered. Quickly, he emptied out his pockets and shoved his phone, wallet, keys, a small notebook, a miniature lockpick set, and a pocket knife all into Roman’s waiting hands. The last time he’d tangled with an aggressive gifted, he’d gotten the entire contents of his pockets- as well as the pants themselves- reduced to a pile of molten plastic and ash. “Right. Here I go.”
“Logan will brief you. Be careful.”
“I’ll be fine, bro, chill out.” Remus patted Roman’s cheek- which his brother couldn’t do a damn thing about with his hands full of Remus’ stuff- then pushed the door open and made his way out to the intake dock.
There was already a small crowd gathered around, a safe distance from where the armored transport van had been backed into the receiving bay. Logan, Patton, and Virgil were there, of course. But the presence of a handful of armed officers was a surprise. Logan usually refused to allow the police department to send their thugs into situations like this. This sort of thing was what Remus was on the payroll for. 
“Wasn’t expecting a party,” Remus said as he approached his team. Logan turned away from his conversation with Virgil.
“Ah, Remus. There you are,” he said. “I take it you have read the work order?”
“I… skimmed it,” Remus lied. Logan looked unimpressed. 
“Well, just in case you missed anything important, let us recap. Virgil?”
“Uh, yeah.” Virgil stepped closer, looking troubled. “We found a gifted in there, probably a test subject knowing these bastards. He’s aggressive, borderline feral, and those jokers-” He jerked his head in the general direction of the uniformed police. “Didn’t fucking help the situation. I couldn’t reach him, but I don’t know if that’s cause he’s in a state of mind where logic and reason are completely out the window, or if he’s… like us.”
Remus nodded. His own powers would work where Virgil’s had failed, but only if this one wasn’t completely immune to the effects of other gifteds like he and Virgil were. He turned to Patton. “You got anything for me, pops?”
“Of course!” From the pocket of his white doctor’s coat, Patton produced a small capped syringe filled with bright blue liquid. “I had to guess at the dosage, though.”
Remus accepted the tranquilizer and shoved it in his pocket. It would be a last resort. Looking to Logan, he asked, “Any ideas on powers? What to watch out for?” He was not pleased to see Logan grimace.
“We don’t know yet. The base is still being swept, so it will likely be some time before we will know what, if any, information was found on this subject.”
There was a heavy thunk from inside the armored van that made Patton jump. 
“Sounds like we don’t have that kind of time,” Remus mused. “Somebody wants out.”
“He was restrained when we found him. Blindfolded, too,” Virgil offered. “So he needs either visual, touch, or both.”
“Really narrows it down there, Virge,” Remus said with a huff. There was another thunk. “I’m going in. Standard operating procedure?”
Logan nodded. Remus nodded back, then looked to Virgil. 
Virgil led him through the crowd of uniforms, snapping at a few of them to move back, and up to the back doors of the van. He met Remus’ gaze. There was another thunk.
“Ok, now!” Remus said. Virgil tore open the door. Remus threw himself at the gifted on the other side, and Virgil slammed the door shut behind him.
He hadn’t been sure what to expect, so when he collided with a much smaller body, his momentum sent them both sprawling across the back of the van. Remus was bigger and stronger though, and didn’t have the disadvantage of being blindfolded, so he flipped the smaller body easily beneath him, wincing slightly at the hiss of pain he heard, and pressed a palm firmly against the bare skin of his neck.
“Why don’t you take a nap,” he growled. His power reached into the body, weaving its way into the circulatory system to slow the heart. Or, well. It tried to. He couldn't get a hold anywhere.
“Fuck. You are like us,” Remus muttered; more to himself than to the other, who was becoming increasingly difficult to hold down as he writhed and struggled against Remus’ weight. With his free hand, Remus reached around to try and fish the syringe out of his pocket. But the movement put him off balance. The gifted threw him off with a sharp jerk and scrambled away.
They both staggered to their feet on opposite ends of the cramped space, and Remus got his first good look at the gifted. His long blonde hair was a tangled mess, and he was still blindfolded- though he tracked Remus’ location enough to bare his teeth at him. Some sort of restraint seemed to be keeping his arms behind his back. Remus kind of wanted to murder whoever had done this to him.
“Hey, look, I’m not trying to hurt you,” he offered, even though he knew Virgil had already tried using his literal powers of persuasion on him. “I swear, I’m just trying to help you. But you need to calm the hell down.”
The gifted had pressed his back up against the wall of the van. Talking wasn’t going to do shit. The sooner Remus ended this the better. He rushed the gifted again; the gifted spun out of his grasp, and his hand closed on… feathers? The fuck? Whatever. The gifted had cornered himself against the back wall of the van. Remus spun sharply and slammed his weight into him. Winded, and with his back pinned into the corner, there was a precious few seconds where the gifted made no move. That was enough time for Remus to slip the cap off the syringe and jam it into the gifted’s thigh. 
His muscles immediately went slack, and Remus carefully lowered him to the floor, mindful of the goddamn wings he could now see were strapped down tightly against the gifted’s back.
“What the fuck did they do to you?” he asked sadly. He leaned over to bang three times on the van wall to signal the all clear to Virgil. A sudden, sharp pain raced up his other arm, and he jerked back with a yelp. The gifted had apparently gathered enough strength for one last act of defiance and had lashed out to fucking bite him, what the hell? Remus pushed him back down to the floor, and this time he stayed down. 
One of the back doors to the van eased open, and Virgil peeked in. Remus turned to him, and the whole world spun.
“Ah, fuck,” he managed. “Venomous. Cute.”
And then he promptly blacked out. 
-
Remus woke up in one of the dimly lit rooms of Patton’s infirmary. Patton had a vendetta against fluorescent lights, instead opting for soft, warm lights that didn’t give everyone headaches. Remus was thankful for this every time he woke up here- which was often- but especially now. His head was throbbing, and he kind of felt like he’d been hit by Virgil’s big armored transport van. Which he had before (his own damn fault) so he knew exactly how it felt.
His phone buzzed. Wincing at the movement, Remus glanced over to the small table beside the bed where his phone sat amid the pile of his other belongings. Which meant he had been out long enough for Roman to stop by and leave again. His phone buzzed again, so despite his body screaming at him for doing so, he reached over and grabbed it.
His team’s groupchat was filled with missed messages from the past hour. He scrolled through the most recent ones with a slight frown.
Nerdy Wolverine 
Patton, please give us an update on Remus’ condition.
Daddy 
He’s gonna be just fine, kiddos, he’s just sleeping it off.
Daddy’s Favorite 
👏👏👏 
Surly Temple 
Oh joy.
Daddy’s Favorite 
You were just as worried as the rest of us, Dr. Gloom.
Surly Temple
You can’t prove that.
Daddy 
Calm down, kiddos.
Nerdy Wolverine 
Patton, I would also like an update on the subject.
Daddy 
Are you sure? There’s kinda a lot to talk about.
Nerdy Wolverine 
Something brief, then. I will come by the infirmary when this meeting is over.
Remus 
Logan, texting during a meeting??? 😱😱😱
Surly Temple
Remus!
Daddy’s Favorite 
Wake up, Sleeping Beauty!
Remus 
I lived, bitch.
Daddy
I’ll be right there! Don’t you dare sit up!
Remus was already in the process of sitting up when Patton burst through the door. He winced slightly at the pain, but moreso at the disappointed look Patton gave him. 
“Uh-uh, you lay back down, mister,” he said. Remus sighed.
“I’m perfectly fine, pops,” he whined, but laid back down anyway, because even Remus knew better than to argue with Patton.
“Maybe, but you know the drill,” Patton replied. Remus made a noise of protest, but let Patton take his vitals and check him over. Then after an eternity- or more accurately, about five minutes- Patton stepped back and said, “Alright kiddo, you’re all good. Take it easy though. Maybe go home after the debrief, ok?”
Remus sat up now that he was allowed to. “I can’t believe that little fucker bit me,” he scoffed. He glanced down at his arm, where it had been bandaged up. “What happened to him? Where is he?” 
Patton looked a little uncomfortable, which more or less answered Remus’ question. The agency would be forced to hold the gifted here until the illegal lab had been fully cleared out and all the paperwork filed; and, well, there was a good chance Logan’s bosses would send in government officials to “assess the mental stability of the liberated test subject,” which was really just shitty politician speak for “see if this could become a huge scandal and decide if it was better to just make it all disappear.”
“Fuck,” was all he said. Then he got unsteadily to his feet. “Where’s Logan?”
Patton put a hand on his shoulder to help steady him. “He’s in a meeting with the chief of police. They’re trying to take the case.”
“Teach won’t let ‘em,” Remus said proudly. “I’m gonna, like. Go sit in my office. Cool?"
Patton eyed him suspiciously, but nodded. Remus gathered up all of his stuff from the table beside the bed, and darted out the door before Patton could change his mind. 
-
When Janus woke up, he immediately became aware of three things, in consecutive order.
First, he was somewhere he had never been before. That realization did not come as a surprise. He, of course, distinctly remembered the whole… “getting dragged out of his cell by people he didn’t know” incident. Usually he knew better than to lash out, but… there had been so much noise, so much unfamiliar chaos, and in his fear, he hadn’t known what else to do. And of course, it hadn’t done him any good; it never did. And now he was here. Wherever “here” was. 
The second realization did come as a surprise, as he sat up on the cot where he’d been laid, and looked around the sparse, softly-lit room: he was completely unbound. His wings were still instinctively pressed against his back, but they twitched at the realization and slowly unfurled to their full span. He winced slightly as tendons snapped into their proper places for the first time in a very long time but then he sighed in relief as the fragile bones settled. 
He had only just begun to catalogue the state of the rest of his body when a voice startled him into the third realization: he was not alone in the room.
“Damn, look at you!”
Janus flinched so hard he almost hit the wall the cot was pushed up against. He brought his wings around him protectively, and turned his eyes on the man sitting on a plastic chair near the opposite corner of the room. He narrowed his eyes as he recognized the voice of the man from the truck. 
“Hey, hey, don’t ruffle your feathers at me like that,” the man laughed. “Sorry about before, man. It was the only way to get you off the truck.”
Janus didn’t say anything. But he shifted so he was crouched on the cot rather than seated, in case he needed to dart away quickly. That seemed to amuse the man further.
“Relax, I ain’t here for a rematch. You kicked my ass fair and square. I just wanted to see how you were doing.”
Janus glared.
“I’m Remus, by the way. You got a name, snake-bird?”
He stood up as he said it, and Janus instinctively flinched back. The man-Remus?- didn’t look like the bad people, dressed in baggy jeans and an alluringly soft-looking green flannel. The bad people always wore white coats or body armor, depending on what they were planning to do to him that day. But… maybe they were just trying something new.
The man hadn’t moved closer. He was watching Janus with a look that fell somewhere between sadness and anger, and it kind of made Janus want to curl up into a ball and hide. 
“I, uh… I guess they treated you real bad down there, huh?” Remus said slowly. “Look, I know you’re scared, and you’re probably super confused, but you’re safe now. I can at least promise you that.”
He didn’t wait for any sort of response from Janus this time, instead turning to riffle through the bag that had been leaning up against his chair. He withdrew a fluffy, pale yellow blanket. He looked between it and Janus, and while Janus wasn’t the best at reading facial cues, he thought for a moment that Remus looked… embarrassed. Then, he moved forward a few paces and set the blanket down and backed up again.
“Here, uh… that’s for you. If you want it. Anyway, yeah. I’m gonna just.” He edged toward the door. “I’ll leave you alone now.”
“Janus.” His name leapt from his tongue before he could stop it. His voice was raspy, and his throat was sore, and he was still afraid- terrified- but still he ground out the words that made Remus pause in the doorway to look back at him. “I’m… Janus.”
-
The file Logan put down in front of them was almost the size of the textbooks Remus used as doorsteps in college (rather than their intended use) and for a moment, they all just stared at it. Then, Remus said what they were all thinking: “Well, fuck.”
“I hate to agree,” Roman sighed. “But yes. That.”
“Of course there will be much more to go over after I have had the time to fully analyze these files, but I thought it imperative I explain the current situation to you all as soon as possible,” Logan said. He was seated at the head of the conference table. The rest of the team was seated around the table except for Virgil, who paced restlessly nearby. Everyone- even Remus- stayed quiet, because when Logan talked, everyone listened.
“With this file, and similar documents recovered both from the most recent site and from previous sites, as well as the recovery of a live test subject, our case is more than sufficient to ensure those responsible will not walk away from this.” 
There was a collective sigh of relief. Virgil, who had been working on this case alongside Logan for years, looked especially relieved. He collapsed into the chair next to Remus, and Remus leaned over to ruffle his hair with a grin. 
“You guys should be proud,” Patton exclaimed. “You worked so hard to see this through!”
“Well it’s not finished yet,” Roman pointed out. He nodded to the file in the middle of the table, that none of them had dared to open yet. 
“Roman is correct,” Logan said. For a moment, he looked very tired; then, he adjusted his tie, and continued. “We must first ensure we have indeed apprehended all parties responsible. There are more names in these files than persons in our custody. Additionally, there is the matter of the test subject-”
“Janus,” Remus interrupted. Everyone gave him an odd look, so he clarified, “His name is Janus. He told me.”
“...Janus, then,” Logan amended. “Janus is to remain in our care until he can be evaluated. If he is deemed capable, he will be free to go once the investigation is closed.”
Logan did not, nor did he need to, state what would happen to Janus if he didn’t pass the evaluation. The agency’s evaluation essentially just looked to see if a gifted could still be considered a “person,” or if they had gone “feral”- and not in the fun way. Feral gifteds got locked up somewhere and were never seen again.
Remus, like all gifteds, hated it; but the government viewed them as dangerous. And a gifted that wasn’t in complete control of their mind, and thus, their powers, was considered too dangerous to let go free. Regardless of what trauma had made them that way in the first place, and if, with proper care, they could heal from it. It made Remus sick.
“They’re not taking Janus,” Remus spat out, interrupting whatever Logan was going to say next. “I won’t let them.”
“Ree,” Roman said gently. “We may not have a choice.”
“No. You guys haven’t seen him- he isn’t aggressive, he’s just scared.”
“Do you know how many people it took to get him into the damn truck?” Virgil snapped. “Oh and also, he bit you? You’re immune to gifted powers and he still knocked you out?” 
“Think about it from his perspective. You’ve been trapped in literal hell for who knows how long, and then suddenly you’re getting dragged out by people you don’t know, blindfolded and tied up, to go who knows where? I’d bite too.”
Patton looked heartbroken at Remus’ words. Virgil didn’t look convinced. But it was Logan who spoke.
“We have time,” Logan said. “Until the investigation closes, he remains in our custody. We make the decisions regarding his care.” He cast Remus a meaningful look, and repeated, “We have time.”
Remus understood.
-
He left Janus alone for the rest of the day, because he figured the guy probably could use some time to calm down. He even managed to persuade Patton to put off any sort of medical examination for the time being- partly for the same reason, and partly because Remus would need to be there in case Janus reacted badly, and Remus still sort of felt like shit and he just wanted to go home and sleep.
So Remus had gone home, passed out for like 15 hours, and woke up feeling a little less like death and decay. 
The benefit of going to sleep at like 2pm was that, even after his stupidly long “I got bit by something venomous” nap, he still made it back to the agency at the crack of dawn. It was quiet, none of the police department’s goons hanging around, and Remus, with his years of practice, could sneak easily past Logan’s office. 
He peeked in through the little window in the holding cell door. Janus himself was nowhere to be seen- instead, there was a Janus-sized blanket mound curled up on the floor in the corner of the room. The sight made Remus smile fondly.
“Damnit, you’re actually kinda cute,” he muttered. And then promptly decided he was not going to overthink that.
Remus camped out outside the holding cell until the headquarters came to life. The mornings were always a flurry of activity, even moreso today what with yesterday’s events. He saw the moment the noise from the hallway woke Janus up- the gifted poked his head out from under the blanket, mismatched eyes blinking sleepily, and then quickly vanished into the blanket mound once more. It was stupidly adorable. 
An intern came by with a tray of food for Janus, and Remus stopped him from approaching the door.
“I got this, kid,” he said with an amused grin. “This is way above your paygrade.”
The intern handed over the tray with a look of relief and scampered off. Poor kid.
The blanket mound stirred when Remus stepped into the room, but there was no further indication that Janus intended to come out. He shut the door behind him, and walked over to crouch down near- but not too near- the blanket mound.
“Good morning, sleeping beauty. I take it you like the blanket?”
The blanket shuffled backward a few inches. Remus set the tray down on the floor in front of him.
“I don’t really know what kind of food you like, so hopefully there’s something here you'll eat,” he said, eyeing the assorted fruits, toast, and eggs that had been sent up. “But like, if you want something else, you can tell me.” There was no response, so Remus stood up slowly and backed away. “I’ll just… be over here, then.”
He dragged the plastic chair to the opposite end of the room to give Janus as much space as possible, and plopped down in it with every intention of waiting him out.
It took about forty minutes of idly scrolling through his phone before Janus emerged, slowly and warily, mismatched eyes darting between Remus and the plate of food. Remus glanced toward him.
“Go ahead. It’s yours. Cold by now, I’ll bet.”
It took a further ten minutes for Janus to make up his mind and emerge fully from under the blanket and approach the plate- but when he finally did, he downed the food so fast, Remus was surprised he didn’t choke.
“Guess you like everything,” he mused. “Fuck, did they even feed you down there?”
He wasn’t really expecting an answer, because Janus was moving back toward his blanket. But rather than vanishing again, Janus sat down facing Remus, with his back to the wall, wings draped around his body like a blanket, and the actual blanket across his lap.
“They did, sometimes,” he replied. His voice sounded a bit rough still, like it had been a while since he’d used it, and quiet enough that Remus had to strain to hear him from across the room.
“Shit, man, these people fucking suck. How long'd they have you?”
Janus seemed to consider the question, but ended up just shaking his head. “I don’t know.” He avoided Remus’ eye for a few minutes, but he looked like he had more to say; Remus just waited in silence until finally, Janus asked, slowly, “Why am I here? Who are you?”
“I’m glad you ask, bud,” Remus answered. He stood up, and Janus flinched back slightly, feathers puffing up a bit. Remus moved a few feet closer, and then sat down on the ground so he was level with Janus. “It’s kinda a long story, but the short version is that it’s our job to go after the kinds of people who do this sort of shit. And the people who took you are gonna go to jail for the rest of their fucking lives for what they did.” He hesitated for a moment, then added, “They ain’t gonna lay a finger on you ever again. I promise.”
Janus eyed him carefully, like he wasn’t sure if he could believe what he was hearing. Remus couldn’t blame him. And then he was gone, vanishing back under the yellow blanket. Remus cleared his throat awkwardly, and stood up.
“I, uh. Yeah. I guess I’ll leave you alone then.” He paused at the door, and glanced over his shoulder. “You want more blankets? Some pillows, maybe?”
A muffled “Yes,” was the reply. Remus, again, could not help but smile fondly to himself.
-
Sleeping on the floor meant that Janus could stay alert to anyone approaching his cell, by sensing the vibrations in the ground. By his third visit, Janus could easily discern Remus’ gait from that of the others that passed down the hall.
He brought pillows and more blankets, just like he said he would. And then he asked if he could bring a friend in.
“He couldn’t give you more than a quick once-over when you first got here,” Remus explained while Janus sat on the floor and inspected his new blankets, marveling at how soft they were. “But he wants to make sure you’re not hurt anywhere.”
“I’m not hurt anywhere,” Janus said quickly. It wasn’t totally a lie; he wasn’t hurt anywhere specific, he just sort of hurt in general. That was normal though. 
“Ok, I’m gonna pretend I believe that,” Remus huffed. “But even so. He’s gotta do it sometime soon.”
Janus cast Remus a sideways glance. He still wasn’t sure what to make of the situation, and he still wasn’t sure how much he could trust these people. The ones before had never shown him kindness- he’d been grabbed off the street in his early teens and treated like an animal ever since. This new place… it felt different from anything he’d experienced before, and that made him wary. 
Being shown kindness and then having it taken away was worse than having never been shown it at all.
“Okay,” Janus said finally, because he didn’t think he was actually being given a choice in this. 
“Okay,” Remus echoed. He seemed unconvinced, which sent a small spike of anxiety into Janus’ chest, because the last thing he wanted to do was upset Remus. The man had brought him blankets, for goodness’ sake. “I’ll text him.”
Janus decided to busy himself with nervously running his hands through his oily feathers. His wings badly needed grooming, but he didn’t know how to ask for brushes. Would they let him have brushes here? He wasn’t allowed them at the old place. He was so lost in that thought, that he didn’t sense someone approaching the door until it was being opened.
“Hey, pops, come on in,” Remus said. Janus glanced over, and was immediately gripped by panic. 
He didn’t recognize the man, and his expression of “cheer fading into concern” was an unfamiliar one, but it was the white coat he wore that Janus recognized. He knew what the white coat meant.
He got caught in his pile of blankets as he tried to scramble to his feet. He tripped and crashed to the ground; out of the corner of his eye, he saw Remus make a grab for him. But he was too quick, kicking off the blanket that had tangled up his legs and springing to his feet. He used his wings to balance himself and buffeted Remus over the head in the process.
“Janus- fuck-” Remus staggered back to avoid a second blow from Janus’ thrashing wings. The man at the doorway looked torn between rushing in to help and backing away. Janus bared his fangs at him, but he was shaking so badly, he felt like a small breeze could topple him.
The man took a step closer, hand held out, but Janus barely heard his words- “Oh gosh, kiddo, I’m not gonna hurt you!”- over the blood pulsing in his ears. His back hit the wall behind him, and abruptly his legs gave out. He slid down to the ground and curled his wings over his head. 
“Janus?” Remus’ voice sounded far away beyond the curtain of feathers. “Hey, you gotta talk to me here.”
“I’ve been good,” Janus managed to choke out. “I- Please don’t, I’ve… I’ve been good.” He curled further in on himself, fully expecting to be struck. 
But nothing happened. The door opened and closed. Then silence. Janus risked a quick peek through his feathers and found that the other man was gone. Remus sat a few feet away.
“It’s ok, he’s gone,” Remus said quickly. Janus did not lower his wings, but the shaking abated slightly. 
“I’ve been good,” he said again, a little more firmly this time. “You promised.”
Remus looked unnerved. He scooted a few inches closer and asked, “What did I promise?” 
“That they… they wouldn’t hurt me again,” Janus hissed. Then, softer this time, “I’ve been good.”
“You have been good, but that doesn’t have anything to do with… wait, did you think…” Remus looked confused, his brow furrowing slightly. “Patton isn’t one of them. Is that what you thought?”
Janus just glared.
“Oh, snake-bird.” Remus’ eyes softened. “Patton’s one of us. He’s ok.”
“He looks like them,” Janus growled. “White-coat.”
“White coat… oh, shit, man, I didn’t even think.”  The sudden volume of Remus’ voice made Janus shrink back into the safety of his own wings. “Oh, shit, sorry. Hey, come back. I’m sorry.” 
Janus folded his wings back with a huff, and gave Remus an unamused look. Remus gave him a soft smile in return.
“I mean it. Patton is one of us. I can tell him to take off his coat. He won’t touch you unless you tell him he can. And you can tell him to leave, at any point, and I’ll throw him out myself. Deal?”
Janus searched his face for a long time. Remus seemed… so distressed. What would be the point, of faking that? There would be no reason to fake any of this, would there?
(Or maybe there was, and he was just too blinded by the hope that his nightmare had finally come to an end to see it.)
But slowly, reluctantly, but unable to shake the small seed of trust in Remus that had just started to take root, Janus said, “Deal.”
-
After the small fiasco that was Janus and Patton’s first meeting, things actually went rather smoothly. Patton wasn’t able to give as thorough of an exam as he was hoping. Janus was too skittish for that. And he had flat out refused a blood draw, which Remus had kind of expected. 
But at the very least, Patton was able to sign off that there were no signs of physical trauma that demanded immediate medical care, which was really all Logan’s bosses wanted. 
Despite his initial reaction, it seemed like the experience with Patton actually helped Janus feel more confident in his new situation. He grew more comfortable exercising his new control over his body and his space, even going so far as to tell Remus to go away when he wanted to be alone. And when he asked for brushes for his wings one day, Remus left work then and there to go get them. When he came back, Janus was waiting at the door for him.
“Well then, eager beaver, I hope I got the right stuff,” Remus said. He handed over the bag. It was way more than the two brushes Janus had asked for, but Logan had given him the company card and, well, Logan should know better than to do that. 
“Anything is better than a rag and my own hands, which is what I usually use,” Janus said. Remus very politely did not make the joke he so desperately wanted to make. “Is that… a bottle of dish soap?”
“Sure,” Remus answered as Janus pulled the little blue bottle of Dawn dish soap out of the bag. “They use it to clean crude oil spills off penguins and shit and, like, a penguin's a bird, right?”
Janus sighed deeply, but he was smiling, and Remus would steal him the sun if it meant Janus would keep smiling.
“Anyway, uh…” Remus shifted awkwardly. “I can, like. Leave you alone, I guess. If you want. Unless you want… uh, never mind, I’ll go-”
“Would you help?” Janus asked. He glanced down at the bag in his hands, and added, with much less confidence, “Um. There are parts I can’t reach.”
“Yeah, of course,” Remus said immediately. “Just tell me what to do?”
Janus guided him to sit down on the ground, and then plopped down next to him. He carefully spread one of his wings out and, after a moment of hesitation, let it drape across Remus’ lap. Remus tried not to feel too overwhelmed by the incredible amount of trust Janus was putting in him right now. 
“Here,” Janus passed one of the bristle brushes to Remus- one of many that Remus had bought- and then chose one for himself. “Just go with the growth, please. But if you find any loose feathers go ahead and work them out. Gently, though.”
Remus obeyed. He brushed carefully through the feathers, marveling at their soft golden-brown color. Even covered in oil and grime, they were beautiful. But after a few minutes, Janus frowned. 
“Everything ok?” Remus asked. He was suddenly afraid he was brushing too hard, or hurting Janus somehow, even though Janus had given no indication that he was in pain.
“It’s just…” Janus sighed helplessly. “They’re so dirty.”
He looked almost on the edge of tears when he said it, which was enough to put Remus immediately into I will do anything for you mode. “Do you want to try the Dawn? One time Patton used it to wash a cat he found that was all grimed up and shit, and it worked real well.” 
Janus seemed to consider it. He glanced over toward the door that led to the little private bathroom attached to the holding cell, then shook his head. 
“There’s not enough space in there,” he said. “We’ll make a mess.”
“We can go downstairs,” Remus suggested. “There’s showers in the employee locker rooms. Plenty of space.” 
Janus looked skeptical. “Is that allowed?”
It was, technically, not allowed. Janus had not been evaluated yet, and he wasn’t really allowed out of holding until he was. But… well, if they were quick, no one would notice. What was life without a little risk?
“Sure!” he said. “It’s fine.”
“...Okay. Sure.” 
Grinning, Remus got to his feet and gathered all their supplies back into the bag. Then he beckoned for Janus to follow.
“Logan’s in meetings for most of the day, and Roman’s off on assignment,” he said. He eased open the cell door and peered out into the empty hall. “And Patton’s usually swamped with paperwork in the afternoons. Everyone else who works here is too scared of me to say anything.”
Janus didn’t question it. Remus led him down the hall and paused to make sure the stairwell was also empty before leading him down the two flights to the ground floor. Janus seemed nervous in the unfamiliar surroundings. He clung close to Remus, close enough that he almost ran into him at several points. Remus tried to give him reassuring smiles and the occasional word of encouragement. 
There were voices in the break room, so they had to go around to get to the locker room. It was usually empty at this time, and today was no exception. Remus held the door open and ushered Janus inside. 
“The showers are over here.” Remus pulled back the curtain and leaned in to turn on the water. “You a warm water person or a cold water person?”
“Warm,” Janus said quickly. “Please.”
As the water warmed up, Remus helped him to pull off his soft flannel shirt (one of many Remus had bought because the agency-provided shirts were those horrible starchy t-shirts and Janus had hated them.) Remus was amazed at how much healthier the scaled half of his face and body looked after just a week of proper meals and consistent rest.
“Are you sure this isn’t going to turn everything blue?” Janus asked when Remus passed him the bottle of Dawn. He still looked vaguely unconvinced about this whole thing. 
“Nah, it won’t, don’t worry!”
Janus sighed. “Ok, but if it does, I shall never forgive you.”
“If I turn your wings blue, I’ll buy you so many blankets, they’ll fill up your whole room. Ready?”
“Well that makes me want my wings to turn blue,” Janus said. He followed Remus into the shower stall. 
It took longer than Remus was expecting to wash out all the years of grime from Janus’ wings. It was especially difficult closer to the point where the wings met his back, because Janus couldn’t reach there on his own. Remus worked through those spots carefully, and it wasn’t until he was almost done that he realized Janus had gone silent. 
“Hey, you good?”
“Mhmm.”
Remus leaned over to catch Janus’ eye, only to find his eyes were closed. There was a content look on his face.
“...did you fall asleep?”
“No.”
“You totally did!” Remus grinned. “You fell asleep standing up!”
Janus opened his eyes to glare at him, but the glare was tempered by the obvious half-dazed look of someone who had, in fact, just woken up. 
“...Ok, maybe I did for a moment there,” Janus huffed. The glare became a pout. “It just feels nice.”
Remus let his grin soften into a smile. “Good. I’m glad.”
The sound of the locker room door opening and closing startled them both. Remus pulled back the curtain just enough to look out into the locker room- and he immediately came face-to-face with Virgil. 
“Oh. ‘Sup, Virge.”
Virgil was eyeing him suspiciously. “What are you doing?”
“Uh… a smoothie?”
“That’s not… Remus, that’s not how that meme works. And you’re not even holding a smoothie.”
“Worth a shot.”
“Are you showering with your clothes on?”
“Sure, doesn’t everyone?”
Virgil’s eyes flicked toward the ground, then back up to Remus. “You realize I can see there’s someone in there with you, right?”
Remus also glanced downward. The curtain stopped about six inches off the ground. “Uh…”
“And I can also see the pile of feathers on the floor that you sure as fuck better not try and wash down the drain.”
“I’m not that dumb.”
Virgil sighed. “Hello, Janus.”
Janus hesitantly poked his head out from the other side of the curtain. “Hello.” 
“The fuck are you guys doing?”
“We’re not having sex if that’s what you’re thinking,” Remus said. Janus made a choked sound and vanished back into the showers.
“There is no universe in which I was thinking that,” Virgil growled. 
“No universe? Not even one?”
“What the fuck are you doing down here?”
Remus rolled his eyes. “If you must know, snake-bird here looked like a penguin in an oil spill. We’re washing his wings.” A pause. “Hey, since you’re here, wanna hand me a couple of towels? The big fluffy ones Patton hides.” 
Virgil walked away grumbling, but by the time Remus had finished rinsing the soap out of Janus’ wings and shut off the water, Virgil was waiting outside with a stack of Patton’s fluffy light blue towels. Remus took one and wrapped Janus up in it.
“What’re you up to, Emo?” he asked as he took a second towel and started toweling off Janus’ dripping wings. 
“Logan sent me to find you,” Virgil answered. He was watching the scene unfold in front of him with a look that Remus didn’t bother trying to decipher. “You weren’t answering your phone.”
“Probably ‘cause it’s sitting on my desk. What’s Teach need me for?”
“He wants to talk. Work stuff.”
“Oh.” Remus looked at Janus. “We should, uh. Probably get you back upstairs before he comes looking for me himself.”
Janus nodded. He gathered up the brushes and, after a moment of eyeing Virgil cautiously, reached over and snatched up one more of Patton’s fluffy towels and shoved it in the bag as well. At Virgil’s look of incredulity, there was nothing else for Remus to do but burst out laughing. 
-
As it turned out, Logan would probably not have been upset over Janus’ field trip downstairs, because when Remus finally made it to his office, the first thing Logan said to him was, “Would you be opposed to letting Janus stay in your home?”
Because apparently, Logan had pulled some strings with his bosses to get Janus out of holding; he had argued that spending his time in a home environment- instead of a type of confinement similar to what he’d endured for a large portion of his life- would vastly improve his chances of passing the assessment. The higher-ups had agreed, with the stipulation that Janus be released into the care of one of Logan’s team.
“Of course he can come home with me,” Remus had said, almost automatically. It was a chance to get Janus out of the box he’d been stuck in all this time. There was nothing that could make him say no.
Janus had seemed hesitant at first, but ultimately agreed to it. So the next day, they had packed up the mountain of pillows and blankets, the bag of brushes and stolen towels, the couple of books Logan had sent up to keep Janus occupied when Remus couldn’t, the snake plushie Virgil had apparently dropped off the night before, and the multicolored cake Patton and Roman had brought by for him that morning that was now half-eaten, and hauled it all over to Remus’ apartment. For a guy who’d been dragged out of hell with only the clothes on his back, Janus sure had a lot of shit to move.
Janus had balked at getting into a car, so Remus talked Patton and Roman into driving his stuff over for him, and then walked with Janus to the apartment. It wasn’t that far, and, Remus realized with a stab of guilt, it was probably the first time Janus had seen the sun in a long time. He kept pausing to close his eyes and tilt his head up toward the sunlight for a few moments at a time, before darting after Remus. Remus didn't stop him. 
It slowed them down to the point that when they finally got to the apartment, Roman had let himself and Patton in, brought all of Janus’ stuff up, and then left. Which was just as well- Janus had met Roman only once, and had seemed oddly jumpy around him.
“So, yeah,” Remus said, after showing Janus around. “You can just grab anything you need. I don’t really keep anything fragile in here ‘cause I tend to break stuff, so don’t worry.”
It was odd, seeing Janus standing in the middle of his living room, with his wings- which after their scrubdown, actually had a soft golden sheen to them- folded carefully against his back. But he seemed relaxed in a way Remus hadn’t seen before. Logan was right.
That evening, Remus got Janus settled into the bedroom.
“Where will you sleep?” Janus asked tentatively as Remus dumped all of Janus’ blankets onto the bed. 
“Huh? Oh, I’ll just be in the other room,” Remus replied. “I sleep on the couch half the time anyway, no big deal.”
“Oh.” was all Janus said. Remus made sure he was comfortable, and then went to pass out on the couch.
When he woke up sometime late in the night, he wasn’t quite sure what had woken him. Remus was, historically, a heavy sleeper. He’d once slept through a monsoon in a cheap tent. If he was tired enough, he could probably sleep through an earthquake. 
He turned his head to squint out into the dark apartment, and could just make out that the bedroom door was ajar. Remus stood up to go check on Janus- and then promptly tripped over Janus.
Remus yelped, and collapsed into the blanket nest that had appeared on the ground next to the couch; Janus yelped, on account of being tripped over, and scrambled out from under his pile of blankets. They both stared at each other through the darkness for a moment, and then both spoke at once.
“Are you ok-”
“I’m sorry-”
They both paused, and then Remus laughed.
“Shit, J, almost gave me a heart attack there. You ok?”
Janus looked a little sheepish. “Yes. I’m sorry.”
“Hey, it’s ok. What’re you doing sleeping there, though?”
“Um…” Janus looked down at his hands where he was clutching the snake plushie. It was stupidly cute. “I couldn’t sleep, alone. I thought I’d sleep better… out here.”
Remus blinked at him, still half-asleep. And it was probably because he was still half-asleep that he said, “Do you want me to sleep in there with you?”
Janus, after a moment, nodded.
“Ok. I can do that, snake-bird. It’s ok.” 
Remus helped Janus stand up, and they moved the blanket mound back into the bedroom. The rest of Janus’ blankets and pillows had been made into a nest wedged into the space between the bed and the wall. Remus smiled fondly. 
“Didn’t like the bed, huh?”
“I feel safer on the floor,” Janus said, looking embarrassed. “I can… sense vibrations in the ground. I know if someone’s coming up to me.”
“Oh. That makes sense.” Remus glanced between the nest and the bed, and shrugged. “I got the bed, then.”
He laid down, while Remus clamored over the bed to get to his nest and then promptly burrowed under the mountain of blankets. And as he was drifting off, Remus could have sworn he heard a soft sigh from Janus, of something that could, perhaps, be contentment. 
-
Janus had never slept so well before. Tucked into the space between the bed and the wall, in a room so unlike the cement-walled cell he’d spent years calling home- and with the soft snoring of Remus, the man he had tentatively come to trust, nearby, Janus slept through the night. And the night after that, and the night after that.
So when he woke with a start the fourth night, it took him a few groggy minutes to piece together why he was awake. He was still curled up comfortably under his blankets. Remus was snoring away in the bed above him. And then the people in the kitchen took another step toward the bedroom, and the vibrations in the floor raced up to Janus’ body. He sat up in a panic.
“Remus,” he hissed. No response. He reached up and grabbed at Remus’ shoulder to try and shake him awake. “Remus!”
Remus grumbled something incomprehensible, and did not wake. Starting to feel frantic, Janus crawled up onto the bed and shook Remus harder. At the same moment that Remus’ eyes fluttered open, the doorknob turned.
“Janus?” Remus asked, voice rough with sleep. Then the door was flung open. Flashlight beams fell across them both as men poured into the small room. Janus turned, baring his teeth, and spread his wings to shield Remus behind him.
“Take him, alive,” one of the men ordered. Janus squinted through the harsh glare of their flashlights to pick out who was speaking. “Kill the other.”
No. Absolutely not.
Janus caught the leader’s eye and summoned his powers to him. The man tried to look away, but even in the gloom, Janus’ powers held him rooted to the spot. 
“Sleep,” he snarled, forcing all of his power and will into the command. The man dropped to the floor.
In the seconds it took for him to wrest the leader’s consciousness away, the other men had fanned out around him. Janus whipped around to his left, but froze when he felt the cold muzzle of a gun touch the back of his neck.
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” a voice behind him sneered. A man to his right reached to grab him. There was a crack and a grunt of pain behind him, and the gun fell away- Remus appeared on his right and swung what looked like a crowbar. There was another sickening crack, and the man grabbing for Janus immediately collapsed in a heap. 
The momentum of the swing propelled Remus up off the bed and into the next armed goon. They both fell backwards- Remus knocked his gun away, and as they hit the ground, a whack from the crowbar meant only Remus stood back up.
“Janus, get down!” he shouted suddenly. Janus turned- there was one man still standing, and he had his gun leveled at Janus’ chest. Janus froze. A gunshot rang out.
Janus felt himself hit his mound of blankets. Remus had shoved him off the bed. Hesitantly, he peered up over the edge.
Remus had bowled the man over onto his back amid the sheets and now sat on top of him, a hand grasping at the exposed skin of his neck. The man, rather than struggling against Remus’ grip, was clutching at his own chest. He convulsed, then fell still.
Janus put a hand on the ground. There were no more in the apartment. He climbed up onto the bed.
“Remus?” 
No response. Janus hesitantly reached out to touch his shoulder. At the same time, Remus slumped forward and slid to the ground.
“Remus!” Janus cried out in alarm. He vaulted over the bed and crouched down next to Remus. There was blood soaking his shirt.
“Remus, fuck. Why’d you do that?” Janus hissed. He gathered Remus up into his arms and tried to put pressure on the wound. Remus gazed up at him with glassy eyes.
“I promised,” he said weakly. Janus looked down at him.
“What did you promise?” he asked, probably sounding a little hysterical. Remus gave him a gentle smile.
“I promised they’d never touch you again.”
-
A neighbor had heard the gunshot and called the police, which was just as well, because Janus had no idea how to work Remus’ phone. The police had come and whisked Remus off to the hospital in an ambulance. Virgil came to take Janus back to the agency so that he wouldn’t be left alone in what had now become a crime scene. Janus made sure to bring his pale yellow blanket, the first one Remus had given him.
The investigation that followed revealed the intruders to be the extra names Logan had been searching for, and had returned to try and reclaim Janus before leaving town. With this, Logan could finally put the case to rest.
Remus was fine. When Janus was finally allowed to see him a few days later, he had just grinned and said, “Still not as bad as that time Virgil hit me with his truck.” Janus was not amused.
With the investigation closed, the agency could release Janus to be evaluated. Everyone gathered in Logan’s office to wait anxiously.
“He’s gonna be fine,” Roman said in what was probably supposed to be a reassuring tone. It did nothing to soothe Remus’ frayed nerves.
“Yeah, but what if something goes wrong, like they spook him or something-”
“If he can tolerate Princey randomly belting out Disney songs, he can tolerate anything,” Virgil scoffed. Roman glared. Patton stifled a giggle. Remus opened his mouth to reply, but in that moment, the door opened. Logan stepped into the office- behind him came Janus. 
“...Well?” Remus asked impatiently. His eyes were fixed on Janus. 
Janus glanced toward Logan. Logan gave a slight nod, and a smile spread across Janus’ face.
“I’m free to go.”
Remus sprang up and engulfed Janus in a hug. Janus clung to him tightly, and his tears of joy soaked Remus’ chest. 
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Text
If you’ll have me
Bucky x insecure!reader
Summary: my entry to “The Other Punk’s 500 Writing Challenge” by the lovely @buckys-other-punk I chose the prompt: “I want you to remember: you deserve this”
The reader moves to the avengers compound, she soon learns how easy it is to fall for a certain supersoldier and how easy it is to give into the lies your brain tells you, and how hard it is to see your own worth in a building full of superheroes.
Warning: panic attacks, self-image issues, anxiety, bad writing, fluff of course, all the themes from the 2012 avengers mindset, endgame!steve is non-existent and everyone is alive bc wow I changed the timeline!
Word count: 4,677
A/N: this prompt could have gone in a spideypool comic kinda way- sarcastic and witty and funny; Or in the direction that I took, I’m at a rough spot so I decided to write the kind of fic that I could use right now. This is the first time I’m sharing my writing, to anyone. So hopefully my nerves won’t be the death of me.
A/N 2: so, I planned this to be around 2k but it got out of hand and the characters did whatever they wanted, I had no control and so the plot is different than what I originally thought.
You can’t say no to Tony Stark, you learned that very early on in your friendship. It was absolutely impossible. So when he out of the blue showed up at your apartment at 2am with a request to move out of your house and into the Avengers compound… you knew there was no way out.
Unlike your best friend, you were more introverted, the thought of moving into a big compound full of superheroes and gods was scary for a civilian. But tony needed you, and you are nothing if not loyal to him.
Ever since the fight between tony and Steve, he told you how lonely he felt in the big tower, after they made peace and settled back into the tower- even though they talked it out and were understanding, tony wanted you around.
“It’s to ease the tension, you are easy to get along with, they will all love you. And you got me to talk about my emotions so maybe you could help them. A little normal in our chaotic life, it’s purely logical.” He said to you, but you could read him better than that. Yes, his argument was logical, but he just wanted a friend.
So of course, you agreed. Working for Pepper was so much better than your old stupid job, she was an angel compared to your mean boss. So a month later you moved into the compound and settled in with Pepper on your new job as her assistant.
When you first met the infamous Winter Soldier he was back from a visit to Wakanda just a few days after you moved in. You noticed his left arm was different from what you’ve seen on the news- it was now black and a little golden, no red star in sight.
He was laughing with The Falcon and ran his fingers through his short hair when tony walked with you into the common room his arm around your shoulder as you walked towards the two avengers. Tony told you everything, so you knew about their past and while he told you how they both decided to move on from that you where still a little nervous.
“Y/N meet: Birdie and Spiky.” Tony gestured forward as he took you to meet the two avengers “Guys, this is the incredible Y/N.”
“I’m Sam, pleasure to meet you.” He nodded to you and shook your hand “this is Spiky.”
“Spiky? Really Tony, you could do better than that, my hair is not that spiky.” He shook his head but you could hear the amusement in his voice. That was a good sign you thought, but that was before he looked at you and you saw his eyes, the blue piercing through your soul. “I’m Bucky.”
“Y/N” you raised your left hand to shake his, you could see a slight tension forming in his eyes as he raised his vibranium hand to meet yours, eyes studying you. You smiled at him.
He flashed you a smile that made your heart skip a bit. This is definitely going to be a problem.
“Are you a new recruit?” Sam had asked you then.
“Oh no, I’m just a friend.” You looked at tony with a smirk “apparently this guy can’t function without me so I decided to move here, for the sake of saving the world from the worst cook ever.”
“It was one time Y/N! I did not mean to blow up your microwave.” Tony looked betrayed as he looked at you.
“I present to you one of the world’s greatest mechanics ladies and gentlemen!” you waved your hands towards Tony. You could see the amusement in his eyes, giving in his failed look of annoyance.
“I already regret my decision,” he groaned and rolled his eyes at you. “I hate you.”
“No you don’t.”
“Well, it was very nice to meet you Y/N,” Bucky redirected the conversation to you again, A sincere look on his face. “I hope we will see you around more then.”
“Unfortunately, we have to go, Cap is waiting for us.” Sam nodded towards you and Tony. You returned a goodbye before tony swept you away to show you his new project.
“What was it back there lover boy?” Sam teased Bucky when you were out of earshot. Bucky looked back at you and shook his head.
“Don’t know what you are talking about, Wilson.”
“Sure” Sam laughed at him but let it go.
As much as you hated to admit that tony was right, it didn’t take long for the team to warm up to you and take you as one of their own. Two weeks later and you found your place there. Natasha and you became quite close as you, Wanda, and Pepper occasionally had girls night.
Tony was smug all day long when one day at the lab Bruce told you that you’re very calming to have around. When Steve and Sam agreed and said it could have a good effect on the team Tony’s smugness somehow increased. It was very annoying. No one should ever let Tony be proved right.
Thor was the biggest puppy you have ever met, basically a Labrador. You found out his slight obsession with pop tarts, and you took it on yourself to educate him on some pop culture because let’s be honest who would turn down an opportunity to watch your favorite movies with someone who wouldn’t object to any of them. When you one time watched the Sherlock Holmes movie with Thor and Steve came in and said he didn’t watch it, you decided it is absolutely essential to have a movie night. You found Clint in the vents shouting an agreement to you.
Even though you managed to befriend Thor, Loki and you soon became good friends. He appreciated your skill of lie detecting and you two often sat and read books together.
Then there was Bucky, your friendship started to form when you joined in on a prank on Sam. You and Bucky ran so fast, dying of laughter, as Sam chased you around with his brand new sparkly pink wings.
From there you friendship blossomed, but to your dismay so did your little crush. It started from invitations to go on walks, to him coming to your door in the dead of the night in seek for comfort after a nightmare. You always let him in. you’d listen to him if he wanted you to, and you distracted him when he didn’t.
Your best friend never showed up to breakfast so you’d sit next to Bucky instead. In movie nights you found Bucky saving you a seat next to him every time until he didn’t have to, it was a silent agreement amongst the team.
You never would have expected the next development though: Bucky was a cuddler. It started small, a hand on the small of your back in the morning when he entered the kitchen. Then an arm in the dark around your shoulder, stroking your arm as you all sat and watched a movie.
“Can I just maybe lie down?” he asked one night. It was 3am and the dark circles under his eyes made your heart ache. You just nodded but were surprised at his actions. You assumed he meant to lie down on the bed rather than sitting against the headboard. He lowered himself on the bed and put his head on your thighs and began to talk to you. You got over your momentary shock to listen to what he wants to talk about, absentmindedly you found yourself stroking his short hair. It was soft and from his content sigh he seemed to enjoy it too.
Imagine the Fourth of July. Now, imagine it with a bit more… Tony. That’s exactly what happened to Steve’s birthday party. Tony told you all about what he was planning weeks before, and you two worked about it endlessly since then. You were a bit annoyed at first, it was way too extravagant to your taste but now that you’re standing at the entrance, looking down from the stairs at all the people there, you couldn’t help but feel proud. The people there varied, from the avengers to the agents you didn’t recognize and all sorts of people who you assumed were high profiled? Never the one to initiate a conversation with a stranger you went ahead to the bar to try and find Tony.
Instead, at the bar you found Natasha who sat there with a drink, scaring away anyone who tried to bother her, you of course she welcomed.
“I’m so glad you came! I know it’s not really your thing but this place looks amazing, so is your dress!” Natasha gashed at you.
“You look absolutely incredible Nat!” you took in her tight short stress and how well she looked in it, she was your friend but you could feel the discomfort start to grow. You smoothed down your skirt. “Do you know where tony is?”
“he is probably talking to some rich assholes who are leaning in to his every word” she joked with you, “I think I saw him with our birthday boy so maybe you should ask him.” She nodded to behind you.
“Steve! Happy birthday!” you rushed to hug him. “How do you like the party?”
“Well, tony sure has expensive taste, it’s lovely Y/N.” America’s golden boy smiled at you.
“Speaking of tony, have you seen him?”
“Yeah, he was actually looking for you earlier, he’s right there.” Steve pointed to the other side of the room where tony stood with Pepper, surrounded by a group of people.
With a short thank you, you attempted to make your way there, casting tens of apologies as you tried to shuffle through the dancing crowd. From the corner of your eye you spotted Bucky, sitting on the couch next to a girl who was basically sitting in his lap, you saw the smile on his face, you never saw that kind of smile on him before. In an attempt to ignore the twist in your stomach, you continued pushing people until you found Tony, surrounded by a whole new group now. When he noticed you and the look on your face, he whispered to Pepper who then diverted the conversation away from Tony- who slipped away towards you.
“Hey darling, I tried to find you earlier.” He told you as he gave you a hug.
“It took me a little longer to get ready I guess.” You looked behind you to see Bucky still with that girl, you adjusted your dress.
Tony took in your actions. He knew you too well.
“Do you want to go outside, a little bit of fresh air could help?”
“No, no you love these parties! I can’t take you away from that.” You dismissed it quickly.
“Well fine, if you want me to enjoy it so much then dance with me.” He dragged you to the DJ and you heard him ask for a couple of slower songs, and then dragged you to the middle of the dance floor. You heard your favorite song playing and tony enveloped you in his arms, immediately comforting you. “Do you want to talk about it?”
“There isn’t really much to talk about, you know how sometimes these parties can trigger me. Sometimes it can make a person like me feel a bit inadequate I guess.” You leaned your head on his chest.
“You’re better than all of these people sweetheart, you’re my best friend tell me who made you feel like this and I will personally give them a free ride to Antarctica.” You could see him doing that which made you laugh.
“With all the penguins? That sounds fun though.” You argued.
“Oh you’re right. I guess I’ll have to think of a different place then. Do you think Barnes would like the desert? I mean with that metal arm it must heat up-”
“Wait what? Why would you say Bucky?” that sneaky son of a bitch.
“Come on, I saw you look at him, did he make you feel bad?” tony looked you in the eyes this time, sincere.
“No,” you shrugged. “I just saw Nat and all these beautiful agents and then I saw him with one and I guess it just made me feel bad way too fast. He didn’t do anything wrong.”
Some days were worse than others, some days it was just a few passing thoughts, some it was thunder and dark lingering clouds.
“Well, there isn’t a point in me telling you how gorgeous you are because you will never believe me, even though you are and I should probably get you an eye doctor, maybe schedule something with Dr. Cho. Anyway, if this is because of Barnes, then I can assure you he only has eyes for you.”
“I don’t need an eye doctor!” you hit his arm and laughed, before putting your head back on his chest. “And about the other thing, I doubt that. I think maybe he should be with someone more like him, which makes more sense.” You still looked around, not seeing Bucky anywhere.
“I don’t think you should make any sort of decision when you’re this anxious. I don’t think you’re capable of clear judgment in this situation darling.” He said to you quietly, worried overtones in his voice.
“I’m fine Tony, I’m not that anxious.”
“your hands are shaking Y/N…” as he told you that, you looked at the hand you put on his chest, his hand now cradled it as you saw it shaking. How did you not notice it? When tony saw as you realized what was happening he knew there was no room for argument. “I’m taking you away.”
You put up no fight as he quickly managed to take you away without drawing too much attention. You didn’t see Bucky searching for you in the crowd after that.
Bucky sat there on the couch, happy for his best friend as he enjoyed his party. He was smiling uncomfortably as the girl next to him scooted closer to him. His mental health got a lot better, and his confidence grew- he felt the man he once was but newer, most of the time. Big crowds still managed to get to him though. He nodded along to the girl next to him who refused to call him anything but James, he tried to be polite. He hated the crowds, you would know that. He thought. Then he heard your favorite song playing from the far side of the room, there he finally saw you, dancing with Tony. He knew tony was your best friend, but he still felt a tug at his heart as you put your head near his arc reactor.
He has been pondering on when to tell you about his feelings for you, confident that you wouldn’t turn him down. The two of you grew so close, you were an absolute angel to him. He saw you hit Tony’s arm and suddenly his smile turned genuine. He knew you felt the same way as him, it was hard to ignore. You seemed almost as happy as he is when the two of you are alone. Maybe he could tell you tonight.
“James? Are you even listening to me?” the girl called him.
“Yes, sorry, your name is August right?” she nodded at him. “Sorry but I have to go, I have a couple of things to do.” He got up then and went towards where he last saw you, but you where nowhere to be found.
The next day tony seemed to be stuck at your side, you tried to tell him that you’re fine but he insisted to “borrow you from Pepper because he needs an assistant.” Or so he claims. Apparently he needed an assistant to buy him ice cream in your favorite flavor or to cook him a meal which coincidentally happens to be your favorite desert- to give him credit he did try to help but he might have tried to mix the eggs with the flour and got it all over the counter. You burst into a fit of laughter and he told F.R.I.D.A.Y to order pizza. So, the two of you sat in the kitchen with your pizza, after cleaning the place.
“I might have to borrow you from Pepper more often, you are a great assistant.”
“Yeah, sure” you played along before setting your pizza down. “Thank you Tony.”
“Anytime” He smiled at you through a mouthful of pizza.
The kitchen door opened, and in stumbled Steve and Bucky, who for once slept in today.
“Well hello boys, what got you looking so bad?” Tony smirked at them.
“It’s all Thor’s fault, he brought the Asgardian mead.” Steve said, you laughed at his hangover state, it was rare but precious.
“Hey doll, I didn’t get to talk to you yesterday, couldn’t find you.” He smiled at you, his rough voice nearly killed you- you were certain. You looked over at tony as you stumbled over what to say.
“We left early, she claimed I was too drunk and should get some air.” He winked at you “isn’t she just the best Barnes?” he then looked at Bucky; you swear you hated him sometimes.
“An absolute angel,” Bucky replied, assessing tony. “But you seem okay enough.”
“Yes well I tried telling her, but she insisted.” Tony easily replied and matched Bucky’s stare.
“How did you manage to get him to actually listen to you Y/N? That’s impressive.” Steve commented, oblivious to the slight tension as he made coffee.
“Years of practice I guess, it is hard to accomplish because he sure can be an ass sometimes.” You kicked Tony under the table to look at you. He only smiled.
“Capcicle doesn’t like that kind of language Y/N.” you heard Steve groaning as he put a coffee cup in front of Bucky who was seated next to you, and sat in front of him next to tony.
“That happened years ago Tony!”
“Doll, I was wondering if you wanted to watch a movie later maybe?” Bucky leaned in to ask you, before you could answer though, Steve spoke up.
“Why is there flour on the counter?”
“On your ass too, you picked the wrong chair.” Tony helpfully chimed in “you know, those pants do nothing for your ass.”
“Tony messed up the kitchen, I guess we didn’t clean it all.” You said apologetically and got up. “I actually have a lot of things to do for Pepper today, since tony stole me, so I should probably go start on that.” You exited the room, looking forward to a distraction at work.
“Tony, you know you shouldn’t cook!” Steve patted the chair, and then sat on it again.
“Hey, I was only trying to help Y/N in baking a cake, I had good intentions!” tony defended.
“Why was she making a cake in the afternoon?”
“Relax Barnes, I asked her to bake me a cake but when it tragically somehow blew up we settled on pizza.” Tony lifted up his slice of pizza in proof. “Why do you care anyway?”
“What kind of question is that?” Bucky looked at him quizzically. “Tony, is there some sort of a problem?”
“I’m just asking, why do you care about her?” Steve noticed the change in the question but Bucky just looked confused.
“I care about her because she is my friend, just like the rest of you here!” Bucky was getting angry by the second, where was this all coming from?
“Yes, but do you care about her only as a friend?” tony asked and this time Bucky noticed the change and his anger all melted away.
“No.” he admitted, not bothering to hide it. “Were you just trying to get me to confess my feelings?”
“They learn things so fast, don’t they Steve?” he looked at an amused Steve who just nodded.
“Even I couldn’t get him to say something. Good job Tony.”
“Okay, I am leaving, this is clearly an ambush.” Bucky left the kitchen then.
Bucky was headed to his room to clear his head, hoping you won’t be as busy tomorrow. He was in the hallway when he passed your room, it was then that he heard your TV on; he recognized the theme song of Brooklyn Nine-Nine playing. Why were you watching TV when you said you’re working? Bucky went to his room and decided to let it go.
For the next week Bucky studied your moves carefully. You started to avoid going out with him, making excuses that he could easily read as lies. At night you accepted him with open arms to talk about his nightmares, but he noticed you smiled less now. When movie night came along he found the seat next to him empty as you sat next to tony, he wasn’t the only one to notice it. That was it for him.
“Nat,” he found Natasha the next day alone in the common room. “Do you know if Y/N is upset with me?”
“Probably, yes, I don’t know why though.” Natasha shrugged.
“I don’t know what I did, she is still nice to me but she avoids even being in the same room as me.” Bucky sat next to her. The assassin put her book down finally and paid attention to Bucky. “I don’t know what to do; I can’t accuse her of anything. I just feel something is wrong. We were really close.”
“I’m sure it’s nothing major, you should talk to her.” Natasha put her hand on his, to try and comfort her friend. She’s seen the way you looked at each other, it was impossible to miss the connection.
You entered the room, unaware of the conversation until you looked up and the two avengers stopped talking and looked at you, but you looked at the position they were in, you were clearly interrupting a private conversation.
“Oh, sorry, I didn’t realize you were here. Sorry, I’ll leave you two alone.” You exited the room before Bucky even stood up, he came to seat back down but Nat kicked him.
“What are you doing? Go and talk to her!” she all but commanded him. He wasn’t going to fight Natasha, that’s just a lost cause.
You were safe in your room, it was all fine. Everything was fine. You couldn’t have expected that falling for an avenger would be a good idea. They are different from you, you’re just… you. They are superheroes. Everyone in the building is either a highly trained agent or one of the top scientists in the world. You were just Tony’s friend, here to support him and maybe bring some normalcy to the superheroes. How could you possibly compete with all that? Your lungs felt too tight, it’s like you could barely breathe.
“Miss Y/N I am recognizing symptoms of a possible panic attack, would you like me to call Mr. Stark?” F.R.I.D.A.Y called to you, snapping you out of your daze.
“No, don’t call tony, or anyone, can you just talk me through breathing?” the AI complied until you managed to calm down and get your breathing right. Bless Tony Stark, anxiety can fuck off.
“Miss, Sergeant Barnes is requesting to open the door; I have shut it alongside any outside noise, would you like me to lift it?”
“Yes F.R.I.D.A.Y, thank you.” You could handle it. You opened the door to see a frustrated Bucky. “Hi Bucky, what do you need?”
Bucky just stepped right into your room and shut the door behind him.
“I need you to tell me what did I do wrong?”
“What? You didn’t do anything wrong.” You were confused now.
“Then why the hell are you avoiding me? I thought you were happy, I thought you wanted me around.” Oh, how could you explain this to him without him taking pity on you?
“Of course I want you around Bucky, it’s okay it’s not that. I’m just giving you space. It’s alright.” You tried to assure him, while also hoping you could convince yourself.
“Giving me space? Doll I don’t want space away from you. Why are you pulling away from me?” he reached for your hand, his metal arm trying to bring you closer.
“Bucky, really it’s alright. Just let this go.” You pleaded him.
“No it’s not alright, I’m not alright. Because the woman I’m in love with is pushing me away and I don’t know what to do to bring her back to me!” He confessed to you, the frustration in his voice gave away to the longing look in his blue eyes.
“You- you what?” you stopped trying to resist him, your shock letting him pull you closer, he was holding both your arms now, keeping you close.
“I’m in love with you. Is it really that hard to believe?” He questions, his voice low now, as if someone might hear, and he wanted to keep this intimate moment just for the two of you.
“No.” you said before collecting yourself. “No, you can’t be in love with me.”
“Of course I can, it’s really easy to fall for you doll.” Bucky huffed a laugh. “I thought you felt the same way, do you?”
“I…” Could you really lie to a supersoldier? Would you lie to Bucky? “I do. Of course I do, but you don’t understand. Bucky, you’re a superhero, a supersoldier. I’m on the other hand just a girl with too much anxiety who happens to have the best friend in the world which is why I was even allowed to live here in the first place. You deserve so much better Bucky, you really do. And I- I don’t deserve you.” You hang your head low, if only he could realize that, it will hurt less. Your eyes were watering but you blinked them shut.
Bucky’s right hand came to your chin and held it up. You are an absolute idiot. Bucky mused at what you said.
“Doll, if there is one thing that I learned in therapy is that even after everything I did, I can still become the man I want to be and I deserve to get happiness. You make me so happy doll, you really do. But you deserve happiness too. Tell me, do I make you happy?”
“Yes, very much. But-”
“No. You deserve all the love and happiness in the world and if you’ll have me, I promise to keep you happy, always. I know I can’t solve anxiety, I have it too. But you help me with it, so I’ll do whatever I can to help you.”
You looked into the sea in his eyes, trying to find any doubt, but all you found was determination to make you understand, to make you believe it. And for a moment you did. That was all it took.
“If you’ll have me, I promise to make you happy and make sure you are loved, always.” You whispered. “Thank you.”
“No need to thank me, I just- I want you to remember, you deserve this. Whether it’s happiness with me or with someone else. You deserve to be loved by your friends, and if it’s here than this is your home and we’re your family. You deserve love and support and if it’s me then please, will you have me?”
“Yes. I don’t want anyone else.”
The next thing you knew, his lips crushed into yours, pouring out all of your emotion to the kiss. This feels right, this is right. Maybe you’re worthy of a happy ending after all. Maybe you’ll find it right here, in this compound, with Bucky.
Little did you know, in the far away land that is Tony’s messy lab, F.R.I.D.A.Y notified him per his request about your panic attack. Now, with the monitors turned on, he watched the two of you with a smile at his lips.
“F.R.I.D.A.Y? Tell Steve he owes me 20 bucks.”
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13uswntimagines · 4 years
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You Don’t Have to Say it for Them to Know (USWNT x Baby!Reader)
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Request: If you are comfortable with it could I request something where Reader is a select mute and the baby of the team so they are all overprotective of her and cuddle her all the time(reader likes it) and maybe in a movie night she says her first words to the team and her teammoms Ali and Ashlyn but just if you are okay with it?
Author’s note: Things in bold are in asl. I hope Y’all enjoy this! Hit me up with Questions or if you just wanna chat. 
You bit your lip, idly swinging your legs back and forth as you sat on the trainer’s bench, just waiting for the game to end. It was a stray elbow from a Canadian defender that had landed you here and almost felt bad for the woman (Emily, Lindsey, Becky, and one of your team moms Ali had decided to see how many times they could make her hit the floor after you were taken off the pitch for stitches). 
The USWNT was known for being protective over younger players, but the way they were towards you was on a whole other level. First and foremost, you were only 17. Secondly, you were incredibly quiet, and not in the usual sense. You had selective mutism. 
You really hated the term selective mutism. It made people think that you got to choose when you could talk. News flash: you couldn’t. And they’re probing to try and force you to talk way more annoying than anything else. Soccer had been your only safe haven growing up. It still was. Talking wasn’t required on the field. 
The thought of meeting the team petrified you at first, and it was definitely an adjustment for them. But they took it all in stride. They were determined to make their newest, littlest forward feel comfortable. That meant learning to talk to you instead of about you, and that just because you couldn’t talk didn’t mean you couldn’t communicate. 
It had taken time, but you had found your place on the team. You were Alyssa and Becky’s crossword buddy, Carli’s ice bath buddy, Tobin’s go-to juggling buddy, Christen’s yoga buddy, and the youngins pranking buddy (none of them would dare prank you). You had a special relationship with everyone on the team, but no relationship was more special than the one you shared with Krashlyn. 
Krashlyn took you under their wings immediately, going as far as to learn sign language to make communicating easier for you. They had become your designated roommates, something you were incredibly restful for. You always felt safe with them, both on and off the field, they were the backbone of the department of defense after all. 
The banging of the door (and the noise of your teammates) caught your attention, and you lifted your head to greet them. You smiled brightly as Ash hopped up on the table beside you and threw her arm over your shoulder. You carefully nuzzled into her warm, large frame. 
“Hey shorty, you doing alright?” She asked softly, Ali joining her other side and running soft fingers through your hair. 
 You rolled your eyes, halfheartedly signing I’m not short. You’re just a giant 
“No kid, you’re smaller than Chrystal. You’re a shorty” Ali laughed, her thumb brushing over your slightly pink cheek. 
“It’s your sign name anyway,” Emily snorted, hopping on the table, knocking Ali out of the way and jostling you in the process. Your team moms (and Emily’s girlfriend) glared at the woman. 
She wasn’t wrong, not really. Your best friend from back home was deaf, and in the 2nd grade, she had given you the honor of a sign name. You were always small for your age, so you had accepted the special variation of shorty that she had given you. 
It also helped that Emily’s sign name (a variation of bubbles) was equally funny. 
“What did the doc say, babydoll?” Ali asked, rolling her eyes at your interaction. She was glad you had come out of your shell a bit, especially around the youngins. It had taken time, but everyone could tell you felt more comfortable around them. 
No concussion. But like 13 stitches I think? They said I could leave after the game You gestured towards Ali, waiting for her nod before turning back towards Emily  And shut up Emily. 
“Alright, let’s go so we can all get some much-needed rest,” Ashlyn said softly, scooping you up into her arms. 
Movie night? You asked, pushing your bottom lip, and batting your eyes out dangerously. 
“Absolutely” Ashlyn nodded, ignoring the calls of the team that she was a pushover. Maybe she was, but you were too cute to deny. 
*****
You smiled, leaning back into Ashlyn’s warm frame as you watched the youngins bicker about movie choices. You pulled your stuffed Dino, Roary crosser to your chest. It was amusing to watch Sam and Rose bid for Tangled, while Emily and Lindsey were dead set on the Princess Bride and Mal and Terina were insistent on the Titanic. 
“Alright, we need a tie-breaker,” Alex said finally, shaking her head. She wanted to be able to go to sleep at some point tonight. 
“Which one Meep Meep?” Kelley asked you, and you froze. The smile fell from your lips as the eyes of the entire team turned to you. Emily, Rose, and Mal each held up a picture of their respective movie. 
You blinked thinking for a second, before raising your hand and pointing towards The Princess Bride, before settling back between Ashlyn and Ali. Lindsey and Emily cheered in excitement, racing to get the movie started. 
“Good choice kid,” Ashlyn smiled, nudging you from behind, and pulling you closer to her. You could feel how proud she was that you had answered the team, even if it was pointing. You bit your lip. God how much you wished you could tell them how they made you feel. 
Ali glanced over at you, noticing how quiet (quieter than normal) you were being and your lack of witty comeback. Her eyebrows furrowed at your bit lip and the look of concentration on your face. “You ok darling?” 
You nodded, glancing at the woman and sending her a small smile. She seemed to accept the response, retiring her attention to the movie. You thought over the things your therapist had taught you. How trying to force yourself to talk would only make it worse. If you were going to do this, you were going to have to relax. 
You took a deep breath, allowing the warmth of your team moms to settle you. It calmed your nerves and just as Westly uttered his true love line, the words bubbled quietly from your lips. 
“I really love you guys,” You said softly, closing your eyes in contentment. They made you comfortable and warm. 
You missed the wide-eyed looks from the team, Turing your face into Ali’s chest. She rand her hands carefully through your hair, whispering “We love you too,” into the crown of your head. 
You were safe and loved, and they knew you loved them too. Even if you had only said it once.
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Day 15: 🐍 Eclipsed 🐍
A letter arrives in the mail. It is plain, unassuming—just as any letter would be. Normal paper, normal handwriting. Normal, normal, normal... Save for the flourish in the final few paragraphs and the signature. You doubt you would be able to distinguish it in a pile of papers if you just went by most of the body of the lettet. Perhaps that was the intention of the sender, though: to be unassuming, and to strike when one least expects it.
A small bottle has come with the letter. There appears to be a mixture of powders and dried herbs inside of it. It smells wonderful—vaguely like your favorite food, though when you show off the contents to Grim, he tells you it smells like tuna instead. The label on the bottle reads “Special Seasoning by Jamil V”.
***Spoilers for chapters 4 and 5!***
Ramshackle Prefect,
Kalim insisted that I join him in sending you a letter of gratitude. He hovered over my shoulder for quite some time, begging me to proofread his own letter for him or asking me what I planned to write in mine. Honestly... that boy causes me so much trouble. In the end, I was able to wave him off and properly gather my thoughts.
Regarding the “winter break incident”... I do not regret my actions one bit. Condemn me if you wish, call me evil—but never say that I was not chasing my aspirations.
You have no idea what it is like to be me. Do you realize the disparity between myself and Kalim? He is the golden boy—the sun. And I—the moon, perpetually eclipsed and drowning in darkness.
I am forever fated to operate as a servant from the shadows, for the sake of a boy that barely understands how ignorant he really is. He can only smile so carefreely because he is unaware of how the other half lives. How we fight and claw and struggle to survive, to cater to those at the top.
It would be a different matter entirely if I had willingly signed up for this lifestyle. But I did not. From the moment I was born, my destiny had already been decided. It is one that will forever be tied to Kalim’s. I am bound by my bloodline, and its history.
I desire so much more than that.
Would you tell a broken winged bird he is not meant to return to the skies? A finless fish he should perish on land because the water will not welcome him? A venomous snake he should not bite because the world tells him it is wrong? No. They will do as any animal would—when backed into a corner, they will strike back.
I was tired of playing second fiddle to Kalim, tired of seeing him be praised for doing the absolute bare minimum, while I worked to the bone doing his duties. Holding myself back from excelling so that he, by comparison, would look better. I was always limiting myself. Stopping short of shining too brightly. Reaching for the stars that I could not see, right as they slipped out of my grasp.
I began to resent him—Kalim, and everything that he represented. I wanted to seize all that he had for myself. It was only fair. I had put in all the effort for him, so it only made sense for me to claim the titles and the credit as well. Because I want to shine, too. I want to be acknowledged, recognized, praised.
Selfish? Perhaps. I have never claimed to be a good person. It is only fools like Kalim that will continously insist that I am, or that I have the potential to be. Even worse are the people like Azul, who only approach me with shady intentions in mind. The sparkle I seek is not tied to teaming up with others. It is only within myself that I can grow and improve the strength of my skills.
This is who I am: Jamil Viper, unabashedly so.
In a way, I suppose I am almost thankful for the “winter break incident”. Though I was not successful with my plot, I was finally able to show my “true self”, the “me” I was repressing for Kalim’s sake. I can be myself, at long last, and excel at whatever endeavors I please. The cruel, conniving “me”... Of course it scared everyone.
... Kalim, that idiot. Even after all of that, he believed in me and talked the rest of Scarabia into giving me another chance. He had always been good at smoothing things over—perhaps a trait inherited from his father. “Why?” I asked him. “Why did you do it? For someone like me?” And Kalim’s only reply was... “Because I like you, Jamil!”
It is a simple answer, as to be expected of him. No matter how many times I told him I didn’t want his pity, he continued to brush it off. He said if I didn’t want to be friends, we could be rivals instead. “You don’t need to hold back anymore. Take me on with everything you’ve got!”, so he said.
Being “myself”. Having “more”. The sun finally left, and the moon’s light was no longer overshadowed. At last, my wish has come true—although not in the way I expected it to. So, for that... I thank you.
At VDC, I could dance and sing my heart out—I could shine the brightest I ever could. I surpassed Kalim, just as I had always wanted, garnered the praise I had long sought out. Me, Jamil Viper. They were cheering for me.
Ramshackle Prefect, consider my help at VDC as payback for your “help” during winter break. I had the foresight to clear out the audience and staff members before Vil-senpai’s Overblot, and I even came to rescue you on the magic carpet. With that, my debt is repaid—and I am free to act as I please.
Well... Perhaps that is not entirely true. It is not so easy to cast off the shackles of servitude the Viper family wears. I will continue to serve at Kalim’s side. It is not because I enjoy his mediocrity or his idiocy. This is simply a decision I have made of my own will, as I have deemed it to be the least troublesome for myself.
I will see where things go from here, and alter my plans accordingly. One day, I hope to break free entirely, so that I may finally grasp those diamonds awaiting in the sky. For now... I am content being “me” and coexisting with Kalim, just as the sun and moon do.
Best regards,
🐍 Jamil Viper 🐍
Scarabia Vice-Dorm Leader
Basketball Club Member
Second Year NRC Student
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ad1thi · 4 years
Text
underrated stevetony fics rec list (P1)
i feel like a lot of really good stevetony fics get swept under the rug because this is such a big fandom and sometimes people miss out on quality content?? so this is a rec list of some of the stevetony fics i feel like everybody should have read/ be reading
Edit (31.12.2020): this got very long (i had almost 50 fics on my list, so ive decided to split this list into two parts. part 2 will be out soon!!)
Edit (20.02.2021): part 2 is out now!!
//
picture me in the trees: @ifmywishescametrue
Tony and Steve were childhood friends that almost became more, but Tony moved and they lost their chance. Thirteen years later, a chance meeting brings Tony back into Steve's life.
Free: @iwanttopizzamanyou
"Steve reads, and the words dance in front of his eyes, because while this used to be his dream, what he wanted, all he can think about is how this Hell will soon become his full time life."
Steve discovers fame, with fans waiting for him in the lobby and girls passing him their numbers after the shows. It used to be what he wanted, he supposes. Except his future managers keep asking more and more from him, and he's not sure his old life will survive. Tony is ready to help, and compromise, but Steve maybe isn't anymore.
making it work: @/ironarm 
“Just tell him you don’t want to see him anymore,” Clint replies, finishing the end of his burger and starting to crumple up the wrapper, “It’s not like you love him or anything.”
“Clint, if I thought I could get rid of him about a week ago, I would have. But for some fucked up reason, I can’t lie to him. It’s like, I see those baby blue eyes, and bam. Whatever barrier that I built up from childhood trauma is gone.”
Clint chokes on the last piece of his burger, almost resisting the urge to smack Tony on the side of his head.
Tony was a fucking idiot.
Boys Like Us: @naferty
The video had been a mistake. One of the biggest mistakes he had ever done in his life, and considering Tony Stark had done a bunch of shit in his younger years, and even older years, that was saying something.
It was just that none of those things were as embarrassing as that video.
He blamed Clint for everything
Stained Fingertips: @thesoundofnat
“I don’t really believe in magic,” he said, clearing his throat. “But I’m almost certain you’re a goddamn wizard, Steve Rogers.”
Steve would remember those words for the rest of his life.
(Or, Steve is maybe slightly obsessed with drawing Tony. Not that Tony minds.)
Inhale, Ex-Sail: @summerpipedream
"Rich pirates decked out in top-of-the-line black market gear,” grumbled Tony, ”why don’t I have the budget to make those again?’
Rhodey inched back so that he and Tony were back-to-back. “We’re apparently law abiding citizens now, which means having to pay taxes.”
Tony scowled. “Urg, right. Remind me why I wanted to do that again?”
Rhodey rolled his eyes. “What was it you called him last time? Your sweet tart? Your apple pie in the sky? The wind beneath your wings? Hopefully he’ll fly here fast enough so we don’t get killed. Or worse, mugged.”
Tony Stark Bingo K1 - AU: Steampunk
As Constant As A Star: @atsadi
The Swan Princess AU
As young children, Prince Anthony and Princess Natasha of neighboring Midgardian kingdoms are betrothed, and spend their summers together every year until they are wed. Tony adores his headstrong friend Nat: it’s her scowly little companion Steve he’s not thrilled about at first. But soon Steve goes from being a thorn in Tony’s side to being his dearest friend – and much, much more than that. Despite Steve feeling the same way about Tony, the pair still dance around each other for years as Steve struggles to accept his feelings for another man: especially one already betrothed to another. Not to mention that Tony is a prince, and Steve is nothing but a squire.
But before they can make peace, Tony is kidnapped and dragged into the beginnings of another conflict in the nearby magical kingdom of Asgard – he really hates magic. With his potential usefulness diminishing by the day, Tony races to escape even as Steve, Natasha, and their friends race to find him and bring him home.
And—just to make matters worse—Tony has been trapped by a powerful spell and turned into a swan, of all creatures. He really, really hates magic.
Always Yours: @hollyjollyhope
Getting kidnapped is normal for them, at this point. But there's nothing normal about this.
And suddenly, Tony has a choice to make.
Oxeye Daisy (patience): @s-horne
“You make me want things I can’t have.”
Steve startled at the voice from behind him and turned around to see Tony standing in the kitchen doorway. He stared straight at Tony for a long moment. The room was quiet, time stretching out in a thick and uncomfortable silence as neither man dare to move nor opened his mouth to speak first.
White Clover (a promise): @s-horne
“Hey, sweetheart.”
Tony lifted his head as he tried to focus on Steve’s voice. When he managed to open his eyes and blink a bit of the blurriness away, he was rewarded with a gentle smile being shone down at him.
“There you are,” Steve said. “Was worried I was going to have to talk to myself.”
Though his tone was light, Tony knew what he meant. It was no secret that Tony was physically weaker and a hell of a lot more human than Steve was and was therefore struggling more with the lack of regular nourishment that came with being held hostage.
“Course not,” Tony said back, voice hoarse but plastering a smile on his face all the same. His head was pounding and his eyes couldn't stay open. “Would I ever do that to you? You’d never get a sensible answer.”
Acta non verba: @firebrands
unapologetic fluff about two idiots who can barely keep it together with how hard they're crushing on each other
or:
tony has to help steve with math + a halloween party = a good time for everyone, eventually
you take me higher than the rest (everybody else is second best): @firebrands
tumblr fill for adi & anthonydarling, who asked for "'Prank' war, but the kind to see who can make the other blush the most in public" from this prompt list
Adjacent, Against, Upon: @firebrands
A political AU!
Steve Rogers is running as the Mayor of somewhere, America. Tony Stark, his campaign manager, deals with a candidate who isn’t interested in lying, and just wants to do good by these citizens, god damn it.
song of unrest: @omg-just-peachy
How was Steve supposed to reconcile all of this? The way he looked so different but still felt so much the same? It made Steve’s head spin. He knows he shouldn’t care so much, that he is what he is, but he just wants to know.
Paint The Town Blue: @omg-just-peachy
Ten years since he’d seen or spoken to Tony Stark, ten years since they’d broken up to go away to school. And now this email. It could be his only chance to see Tony again.
Camelot: @weethreequarter
For one shining moment, there was Camelot.
In 2019, Karen Page meets Captain Steve Rogers to conduct an exclusive interview on his late husband, President Tony Stark.
In 2007, Steve meets Senator Tony Stark and falls in love.
he thinks he’s lancelot (but he’s more of a sir lamorak): @theotherwasdeath
Tony knows firsthand that violence isn’t funny. So why oh why does he think that the scene playing out in front of him, Steve and Victor Von Doom in a knock-out, drag-down fist fight, is absolutely hilarious?
wildflowers: @tinytonysnark
“So,” Steve begins, clapping his hands together, “the city of SHIELD is in debt. The big ups have sent for financial advisors, all the way from DC! They’re gonna take a look at the city’s spending and make some cuts.”
He squints at the camera against the morning sun shining through the courtyard, “I’m not that worried. Everyone here in the parks department is an important member of the team and absolutely needed.”
The camera swings towards the office where from the large glass window, Natasha can be seen picking up the ringing phone before immediately slamming it back down onto the receiver.
[A Parks and Rec AU]
trinkets of your affection: @starklysteve
Kissed him once for every year I loved him, Steve had written.
By that count, Steve owes him five more kisses now.
Tony traces the words, hands trembling, and tips back a shot of Howard's ancient whiskey. None of it burns anymore.
One day, he'll have lived more days without Steve than there are words in the diary.
For the first time since he'd woken with shrapnel in his chest, Tony fears the future.
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Or, five things Tony keeps to remember Steve by, and one thing Steve gives him to remember.
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