#especially if you look at it from ironic perspective of “he's covered in blood of the british empire”

[stivkun]

[dogmetaph0r]

SIC 'EM

Chapter 4: ...and Stay

A/N: It's been...........literally two months slkdjgskljgs. Sorry y'all these just keep getting progressively longer and I got caught up in packing for vacation time. ANYway, it's here!! More mystery, more bickering, and more... weird, complicated layers of mistrust. Oh boy.

Pairings: M!OC x F!OC, M!OC x Tommy Shelby

Warnings: descriptions of violence, past child abuse, implied past CSA, blood and injury, vomiting, mental health issues, mention of suicide

Soundtrack: Please, Please, Please Let Me Get What I Want - Deftones (cover) // Are You Satisfied? - MARINA // Who Are You, Really? - Mikky Ekko

Summary: Following the headlines that turned Sam's world upside down, the Shelby family makes sense of the disaster at Aintree. Sam sees a vulnerable side of the legendary gangsters, Tommy gets some much-needed perspective, and Finn is... Finn. An unexpected message complicates matters.

Tommy and Arthur’s side of the story raised more questions than answers. The pair took it back to the meeting point under the grandstand, somewhere just before the race had begun. Sam’s panicked retelling of his day, the incident with Little Tsarina especially, had sent an ice-cold shot of anger through Tommy’s heart, only worsened with the warning that the next leg of their plan had to happen immediately. Somebody had caught on, and word was spreading through the police that capital-T Trouble had bought tickets for the race that day. There was no time to speculate on how the authorities could’ve been tipped off; if they knew what to look for, the police would find them too quickly to patch the information leak. Tommy had to adapt quickly, had to think three steps ahead of the police. People needed to be switched around.

While John was substituted for his snow-high brother, Arthur was sent out to track down the horse beater, following the scent of a man whom Paul had bumped shoulders with on his way to the stables. The man was old and gray, in no shape for a jockey and dressed too cleanly in his linen suit to be a veterinarian or a stablehand. His exit from the building raised eyebrows. Arthur pressured him, spitting venom and gripping his ironed shirtfront with bruised, white-knuckled fists as he shook him. But that man hadn’t been the one, proffering certification of his status as a jockey’s sponsor with trembling, arthritic hands. The lead went cold.

Turning instead to the rows of betting stands, Tommy figured his brother might have better luck looking for anyone hawking Tsarina as the future champion, someone looking to make a blood-soaked buck on the misguided bets of the gullible. They were unlucky there as well– the gilded signs and mahogany-framed chalkboards certainly dripped with deceit and fraud, but not evil. No musky scent of horse hair, no flecks of blood dotting their white socks, and no black-eyed haze of violence driving their appetite for more, more, more: money, power, attention, women, success. Arthur reached into his pocket for the silver clip binding together his personal supply of petty cash, his way in through the crowd as navy suits and felt bowler hats beckoned him forward to lay his bets and line their pockets. Rather than feeling the worn softness of a bank note, his fingertips brushed the torn edge of a scrap of paper, fresh ink staining his thumb as he freed it from his coat. The little slip was smudged, hardly legible and freshly scrawled out as though in a hurry.

  Psalms 94:1.

It didn’t mean anything to Arthur outside of the haunting pang of cosmic guilt it inspired in him, the thought of crumpling and tossing the holy scrap unbearable. He shoved it hurriedly back into his pocket, tongue stumbling over a whispered prayer before turning his attention back to his own godless pursuit of more, more, more.

Tommy, meanwhile, had been keeping tabs on the movement of the police and the Blinders as he slipped like water through the crowd. Well-dressed and charismatic, he fit in enough to slither all the way to the VIP section, where a proper vantage point offered the best view of the plan marching along as it should. It didn’t take long for the police to catch wind of the brawl in the tent, and it didn’t take much longer for it to escalate to an all-hands-on-deck order. Tommy gave the signal, and the Blinders struck like wolves on fattened cattle.

Licenses were burned, safes were broken, and the vast majority of the rich company men dominating the Grand National betting were driven away with little need for force. Arthur and Jim, of course, needed the tang of blood salting the air to feel like their job was done, but the operation was otherwise one of their cleanest. Quick, quiet, quit the scene.

Or rather, it was clean until the gunshots. Pop, pop, pop. Those weren’t police, armed only with wooden batons at what was meant to be a very peaceful, posh event. Those loud bangs were from something– or someone –far worse. The Blinders’ departure from the racecourse had to be rushed, and their drive even more so. It had ultimately been too much for Charlie Strong’s thrice-reanimated truck, which sputtered and coughed a filmy black haze until it rolled to a permanent halt in the grassy riverbanks of Tern Hill, radiator hissing and spitting like a mad cat.

That was where Sam had gone hypoxic from the strain of running on a broken rib, breath so short and shallow where he’d slumped to the floor of the truck that Tommy feared their ride home would arrive too late. When he briefly regained consciousness, he’d muttered something about God not being done with him. That, Arthur claimed, was how he remembered the note, tucked shamefully away into the pocket of his overcoat. He didn’t mention it– didn’t have the time, between barking orders for the men and fighting the cocaine shakes –until later, when the sun had risen on another day and the paper had arrived freshly-printed in bundles to the newsboys’ stands. Instead, it burned a hole in his pocket and itched at the back of his mind.

There was no time for anyone to drive up to Haydock that day; Polly had to reach Florence at work and let her know what had happened over the phone when they arrived in Birmingham. Tommy had made that decision as soon as the car pulled up beside the hospital entrance, a finger glued to Sam’s pulse as the man drifted in and out of awareness in the backseat. Scudboat had driven them there in record time, and from that moment on everything was in Doctor Matheson’s hands. So far, so good, for what they were working with.

The next morning’s paper was what threw everything out of balance. Grand National in Disarray!, the headline read in large, blocky font. Unidentified woman killed in brawl, police blame gang activity. The article went on to explain a limited version of events, nothing too outrageous until the very last paragraph. Police received an anonymous tip that the event was orchestrated by individuals associated with organized crime. “May God strike these wicked people down!”

Tommy read that final plea over and over until the black lettering began to flash in negatives behind his tired eyelids, scrubbed into permanency by fingers pressed tight to tender eyes as his mind ran around the few details he had. Sam’s defensiveness about his faith, his insistence on maintaining plausible deniability, the information that he hadn’t properly conveyed to Paul until Tommy stepped in to hear it himself… it didn’t spell out good things for their newest co-conspirator. Arthur’s note, resurfaced with a horrified shout of recognition, only stirred the already-boiling pot. The only thing they could do in their powerlessness was stew over the possibilities, building and scrapping plots to weasel the information out of Sam one bit at a time. And then, so early in the morning that the world was still tinted blue by the retreat of night, Monday’s paper came.

The next paper was nothing more than a trash tabloid, a way to sell drama to bored housewives and gullible grandparents, but by the time Tommy and Arthur had pulled in front of the hospital they’d passed no fewer than fifteen early morning workers gathered around the paper stands with their smokes. Politician’s Wife Shot At Derby!, Tommy's copy read. Woman shot dead at Grand National identified as Mrs. Agnes Clarke, wife of parliamentary candidate Lieutenant Clarence Clarke.

There, plain as day, was the sketch. It couldn’t have been more clear who the suspect was meant to be, from the heavy-lidded eyes down to the hair-thin scar on his upper lip. The article once again threw the blame onto some mysterious threat of a crime ring, the flames of rumor only fanned by eyewitness statements from the scene. One man heard word of the fight escalating over a woman. Another added that the man in the sketch was the one to fire the gun. The third statement, perhaps the most concerning, anonymously implied that the shot was intentional. That the man in question must’ve been a political extremist targeting Lieutenant Clarke for his campaign to sniff out police bribery. The paper ran far with this theory, tossing forth claims of everything from IRA involvement to Sicilian mafia ties and just about anything in between. But of course, a cheap headline capitalizing on tragedy was nothing without a name for their assailant. The Hangdog Killer, they dubbed him. “The shame on his face spoke volumes!”

“Hangdog Sam,” John whistled. “That’s got a ring to it.”

Fia scowled at him from her place leaning over the Shelby kitchen table, each page of the paper spread out before them on the wood surface gouged and stained by years of use. Sam’s eyes drifted aimlessly over the jumble of letters, scouring instead the composite sketch for any indication that it might not be him. But those were his eyes, that was his nose, that was his scar. There was no other conclusion he could draw– the public thought it was him. Him, a murderer. Him, an assassin. A terrorist.

“You understand how this looks,” Tommy said seriously. Sam nodded, sat at the table with his eyes glazed over.

“I’m telling you, Tom,” John said, wiping his hands down his face. “It’s not him. And you know I’ve got no reason to want him around, so you’d best believe me.”

Sam was torn between wanting to pat John on the back and punch him in the face. He did neither, opting instead to keep staring listlessly into his own sketched reflection for some sort of answer.

“He might not have planted that note or shot that woman,” Arthur grumbled, “but that don’t mean he couldn’t’ve tipped off the police, somehow. He had plenty of time alone on the racecourse day-of. Could’ve even made a call from the hospital, if he wanted to.”

Tommy nodded. “The way I see it, John, the only thing you can undeniably vouch for is that you didn’t feel a gun on him. That doesn’t disprove anything, even if it makes some things less likely.”

Fia rattled off a handful of insults in Rokka, mostly half-abandoned sentences describing how she saw it. She was pink in the face, eyes brimming with unshed tears as she said her piece. Tommy took it in stride, nodding when Fia cursed his thick skull and sighing when she listed his own varied offenses.

“For what it’s worth,” Paul said, squinting over the small print of one of the articles, “I don’t think you could’ve managed it, lad.”

Sam laughed mirthlessly, shaking his head as he rubbed at his aching temple. “Would that hold up in court? Your honor, Paul says I’m too much of a fuckup to go to jail.”

Paul raised his hands apologetically with an exaggerated shrug. “All I mean is that you’ve been busy,” he said. “We had eyes on you the whole way over, and you clocked in late enough in the morning that you couldn’t have been alone in the stables. You’d been accounted for all day. Couldn’t have had the time to be questioned by police, and if your higher-ups at Aintree suspected something was off with you, we’d’ve heard from them by now. You couldn’t have ratted us out, you couldn’t have lamed the horse, and you couldn’t have shot anyone. Not all on the same day, certainly.”

It was a fair point. Sam already knew his innocence, knew that even if he’d blacked out and done something terrible out of fear there was no way he could’ve seen straight enough to shoot with how hard John hit him. Knew that there was no way he could’ve had a gun on him if he couldn’t even afford the bullets. Knew that snitching on the Peaky Blinders would have been the end of his and Fia’s little cushion of savings, if not Sam’s life. But it helped, knowing that there was something besides John’s word about the shooting in the tent keeping him safe from the wrath of the Peaky Blinders. Three possible offenses down, countless to go. “What are my options? Do I even have a chance to defend myself here?” Sam asked, addressing the room at large.

“I wouldn’t ask questions like that just yet,” said Pollyanna Gray, taking an elegant drag from her cigarette with an arched eyebrow. “You might not like the answer.” She flipped one of the pages over, underlining a few key sections with a pencil. Sam flinched as she tapped the cigarette on a chipped ashtray, situated perilously close to the flammable newspaper.

“Can we do this… elsewhere?” Sam asked Tommy. “I’m sure not everyone has to be here.”

Tommy looked up from where he and John were dissecting a paragraph, looking around at his makeshift court: Polly, John, Paul, Arthur, Fia, Sam, some adolescent whose name he hadn’t gotten, and himself. The look Tommy gave Sam was unimpressed, eyes boring so coldly into him that he could practically feel the frost crystallizing on his skin. He blinked once, slowly, before returning calmly to the paper. That in itself was answer enough on its own.

Sam opened his mouth to provoke Tommy into telling him something, anything, when Fia placed a warning hand on the back of his neck. “Well, we ought to summarize what we do know, then. Sam, tell us once more what happened when you were alone in the hospital the first night?”

He sighed. It was a detail they’d been over a dozen times, each time more frustrating than the last as nothing seemed to satisfy Arthur’s insistence that he could’ve somehow made a call without the guard at the door noticing. As if he could’ve gotten up out of the bed on his own. Sam was tempted to bring up the number of times they’d had to call in a nurse to help him upright just to make sure he didn’t piss himself, but at this point he would do anything just to get some peace and quiet. His head pounded, and the layers of conversation happening above his ducked head only made things worse. “I went to sleep,” he gritted out, “and I had a nightmare. I woke up to the nurses restraining me.”

“But you weren’t restrained before that,” Arthur said, punctuating his point with a finger aimed at Sam’s face. “Weren’t no guards set outside the door yet. You could’ve gone down the hall and tipped off the police.”

“I was coughing blood,” Sam snapped. “You saw it. I wouldn’t have made it far.”

Arthur grumbled, but with a pointed look from Fia, he nodded reluctantly.

“And the next night?” Fia prompted.

“He was sedated,” Tommy admitted. “We were there as he fell asleep, and after that Isiah was guarding the door with Bill.”

Isiah, the young man he didn’t recognize before, nodded. “I can vouch for him, Tom. He didn’t move an inch all day. The only time I saw him awake was when they were forcing some food into him, and I watched that all too.”

“All of those nurses are on our payroll,” John said. “Same as Dr. Matheson. Not a single leak.”

Tommy was silent, nodding to himself with his hands on his hips. It was a habit Sam had come to associate with Tommy’s brain puzzling with a challenge, dissecting and examining each piece.

“Great,” Fia said, exasperated. “So, Isiah, you know that Sam couldn’t have tipped off the police in the hospital.”

“Right,” Isiah said.

“Paul,” she continued. “You say he’s been accounted for the whole day by the Aintree staff?”

“He’d been working just about the entire morning,” Paul said. “Wrapped up with that speckled mare, the one with the lame front leg.”

“Yes, exactly. John, you can confidently say that Sam wasn’t the shooter.”

“I’d bet Arthur’s last rusty quid on it,” John insisted. Arthur cuffed him on the back of the head.

“And Arthur,” Fia continued, turning her attention to the oldest brother. “You’ve given us reason to believe that someone put a note in your pocket that was written just shortly beforehand. That couldn’t have been Sam, because–” she looked at Sam, who nodded, resigned. There was no point in defending his pride if it cost him his head. “ –because he’s not been taught how to write.”

“Hang on, then,” Arthur interrupted, leaning over the table with his brows furrowed. “We don’t know that. All we have is a claim from you and the other Lees, and– no offense, Florence –the Lees are notorious for tall tales, right? An’ the other Lees besides yourself don’t exactly like the Lovells. Not much reason to flatter Sam’s readin’ level.”

Polly finished her cigarette, leaving the butt to smolder a lazy trail of smoke from the ashtray. “I can vouch for his illiteracy,” she said, a smirk on her lips. “This morning, I wrote him a check for all the money owed to him from the Aintree job. I shorted him thirty percent, and he thanked me for my business.”

From his right, Fia gasped and smacked Sam lightly on the shoulder with one of the papers. “We agreed, no checks unless I give them a once-over!”

Sam huffed a half-assed apology, head in his hands as the embarrassment only made the invisible vice wrapped around his head tighten a notch further. It hurt to look up, hurt to look down, hurt to do anything more than squeeze his weary eyes shut and breathe heavily into his too-sweaty palms. Nobody saw him flinch when Arthur’s fist thudded like a gavel against the surface of the table, nor heard him whine nauseously when Fia’s voice reached a watery pitch that forecast frustrated tears. It was a small dignity that nobody noticed him gritting his teeth about what hurt and what didn’t, the former outnumbering the latter by the dozens.

“Boys,” Polly’s voice cut through the chaos, sharp and stern yet greatly appreciated as the room went quiet in its wake. “You won’t accomplish anything by refusing to listen to anyone. How I see it is that Samuel is not your rat. Now, he’s no boy wonder–” Sam glanced up at that, frowning a bit at the self-satisfied look on her face when he opened his mouth to defend himself, “–but I do think he’s smart enough to not poke the bear, so to speak. He has no allegiances outside of the ones we already share.” She stepped away from the table, heels clicking as she circled around to look at another page. “That was why we wanted him, right? A lone actor in need of money?”

Tommy nodded contemplatively, stepping away to pace a bit through the living room with his arms folded across his chest. Sam cringed as the dust dancing in the light stirred, kicking up the memory of old cigarette ash. Every fiber of the fabric in this house seemed to be steeped in the noxious stink of old tobacco, foul and sulphuric. The more the Shelbys moved– pacing back and forth, grabbing a drink, sitting on a chair, fucking gesturing –the more it infiltrated his nose, roiling his gut.

“I think I need some air,” he croaked, making to stand shakily before a heavy hand landed on his shoulder.

“You’re not going anywhere until we figure this out,” Tommy ordered from across the room, and the hand (Arthur, he guessed, based on the way Isiah was busy reading the discarded sports section and John was off reasoning with Esme, who up to this point had steered quite clear of the nonsense) pushed him back down to his seat. The change in blood pressure and the grating in his ribcage was hell on Sam’s head, and he grabbed at his forehead in a futile attempt to keep his skull from pounding.

“Mate, he’s gonna be sick,” Isiah muttered, barely looking over the edge of the paper as the corner of his mouth twitched in a halted smirk.

Tommy huffed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Isiah, can you go keep Finn out of trouble for a bit, please? Go to The Garrison or something, tell Harry Fenton I’ll compensate him for a pint each for you boys.”

“Thought my perspective was crucial here,” he remarked, just a tad too sharp to be a joke. He folded the sports section and tucked it into his pocket anyway, patting Arthur on the shoulder as he passed. “Tom, seriously. He’s been ill all weekend. Nobody would be stupid enough to let him just wander about Birmingham like a stray. He can get some air, mate, nothing’ll happen.”

“I said,” Tommy snapped, pointing, “Go to The Garrison. Please.”

Sam put his head down on the table for a moment as Isiah’s irritated door slam rattled through his brain. Polly cast an admonishing look at Tommy, who glared exhaustedly at the front entrance.

“That wasn’t necessary,” she scolded. “He’s not a boy anymore. You can’t just order him around when he’s saying what you don’t want to hear.”

Tommy squeezed his eyes shut, shaking his head as he turned away. “His presence wasn’t needed anymore. He was free to go. All I asked was for him to tell us about the hospital, and now he thinks he can tell me what can and can’t happen under me own roof.”

Polly lit another cigarette, eyes widened in bemused astonishment. “You and I both know it’s more than that.”

The man whipped back around, his shoulders a tense line and his jaw set. Sam was struck with dizzying deja-vu, a glimpse of the very same version of Tommy looming at the foot of his bed that morning. No longer cold ice and sharp steel, but hot blood and blunt words. “I have been working,” he hissed, “day and night for this family. I have a son I haven’t seen. I’ve been gathering evidence, I’ve been making calls, I’ve been doing everything to make sure that this doesn’t hurt our success in Liverpool. So forgive me if I’m not being polite enough.”

“Our success!” Polly threw her hands up with an exaggerated eye roll. “Oh, god forbid we can’t afford another car. What will we do, build one with the factory we own?”

“Ada’s gotten her ideas into your head, I see. You know damn well what this could do for us.” Tommy snatched his hat and coat from the rack by the door. “I need a break. John, take Samuel upstairs and crack a window for him. He doesn’t leave this house until we know what’s going on.”

The front door slammed again as he left, and it would’ve been Sam’s breaking point if he weren’t already being escorted upstairs with a hand under his arm. His vision swam and blurred with pain as they made their way slowly up the stairs, John complaining under his breath about his bruised, wrapped-up hand and Tommy being a stubborn prick.

The second floor wasn’t warm and decorated like the sitting room. There were no shelves of fine china or little crucifixes or painted vases, no heavy curtains casting a colorful glow to this hallway. It was plain. A time capsule of years past, Sam imagined. A life before the Shelby family grew into the Shelby empire. Here, the wallpaper was stained and curling at the corners, scribbled with pencils and shredded by roughhousing from years and years of dirty-faced boys growing up into dirty-money men. The cigarette smoke wasn’t so strong here, blessedly, but it seeped sepia tones into what must’ve been mint-and-white stripes once upon a time, now faded to gray and more gray. A single gauzy lace curtain hung limply at the end of the hall, framing a smudged window looking out over rows and rows of similarly dreary houses sharing the little corner of Birmingham called Small Heath. It was strangely comforting, seeing this soft underbelly of the people holding a knife to his throat. He could imagine Arthur growing tall as hell overnight like a skinny tendril of ivy, Tommy learning how to bargain by begging Polly for something he knew he couldn’t have, John learning just how much he could get away with.

But there were hints of another sort of childhood here. John led him past one room, the door cracked just enough for Sam to catch pink floral walls and the glimpse of a tattered old doll. Ada, the sister. Must’ve been hers. He hadn’t met the woman, but Fia had told him enough from Esme’s wedding that he could extrapolate the rest. She used to chase rats with a gun, Fia relayed to him. It was all John said. As in… oh, hello! This is my sister, the one with the rat-killing tendencies! Sweet Jesus, what a family. He couldn’t imagine what it would be like, being raised with wild wolves for brothers. It had been so long since he’d last known what brotherhood felt like.

The room John led him into was claustrophobic, even as bare as it was. The busy wallpaper danced circles in his sight, dizzying enough to obscure details besides the immediate ones: a thin mattress on a metal frame, a privacy screen, an oak dresser, a chair, a tiny fireplace. John let him sit gingerly while he crossed the room to open the window, letting in a blessedly rain-fresh gust of air to wash out the smell of people. The weather had been too poor overnight for the scent of pig and coal to linger, and it almost smelled like home. Like the barest hint of greenery, thick with mud and wet stone.

“My wife told me I need to apologize to you,” John said, shattering the blissful silence. “But I did save your arse from trampling and from Tommy, so I think we’re even enough.”

Sam hung his head and breathed out a laugh through his nose. “That’s fair.”

“Yeah.” John leaned against the wall, gazing out at the alleyway below the window. “If I thought you’d done it, I wouldn’t’ve defended you.”

Sam nodded. “I appreciate that. But I’d assumed that was the case?”

It was John’s turn to laugh, shaking his head as though Sam had just said the stupidest thing he’d ever heard. “Don’t assume anything. People out here will lie about anything to get what they want from you.”

“What, like loyalty?”

“Like loyalty. Or favors. Respect. Fear, even.”

“Why are you telling me this?” The wallpaper stopped shimmering like snakeskin the more cold air he took in, so Sam breathed as deeply as his ribs could manage without protest.

John shrugged. “I dunno. Guess I feel bad that I put you in the hospital. That’s usually Arthur’s thing.” He turned his attention towards toying with some glass bottles and wooden knick knacks on the narrow mantelpiece. “And I guess you’re going to be my niece or nephew’s dad, yeah? There’s something to that, like it or not. You might as well get used to how our world works.”

Sam snorted, shaking his head slowly. “My God. Is that you saying the feud’s over, John?”

John glared over his shoulder. “Don’t get cocky, aye? I’m being civil. I’m not your pal.”

Sam raised his hands placatingly, relaxing in the wood chair as the fresh breeze settled his stomach and nerves. “Heard loud and clear, mate.”

They sat in silence for a while, listening to the distant roar-hiss of factory fires and heavy machinery. Sam could focus his eyes long enough now to take in more details of the dark room. Behind the divider was another bed, similarly plain and lumpy. The floor was as scored and stained as the table downstairs, the baseboards similarly scribbled-on in layers of old graphite and half-scrubbed crayon. The walls were decorated haphazardly with pastoral landscapes and mirrors, and a peek behind the painting just above his head revealed the reason for the strange positioning: a fist-sized hole in the wall, hastily patched with plaster and concealed with the fake-gilded frame. Sam let it rest back against the wall with a light thunk, startling when he heard John clear his throat.

“This was our room,” John said, watching Sam glimpse behind the veneer. “Me and Tommy. Used to share everything, back then.”

Again came the imaginings of a life before the Shelby empire: John and Tommy arguing over who was making more noise, doodling crude words into hidden corners of the wall, wishing for a stroke of luck to change everything. He imagined their father, and then wished he hadn’t. Arthur Shelby Sr. was the sort of man his father didn’t want around him growing up. Rotten soul, he’s got, Sam was warned. He remembered being very little and standing by the canal with his mother at some horse auction or another, listening to a pretty woman with raven hair and cornflower-blue eyes tremble out excuse after excuse. He’s so lovely when he’s not angry. He really doesn’t drink so much anymore. Oh, I promise, it’s not all that bad. You know boys will tell all sorts of stories. All sorts. His mum told his dad, and his dad told Sam: You’re not to be around that deviant Mr. Shelby without me, aye, chavo? And no matter what he asks of you, you don’t do it. And that was it. No more business was done between the Shelbys and the Lovells.

Sam dared to stand for a look at the collection of items on the mantle, finding his ribs were just as broken as they were a minute ago, but that his legs felt less like jelly. His fingers drifted over a mismatched collection of trinkets: little chipped seashells, a perfectly smooth river rock, a rusty old pocket knife, and a few little wooden animals.

“You whittled this?” Sam ran his hand over the back of a horse in motion, the grooves and worm-bitten holes of the driftwood catching on his fingertips.

“Oh,” John said, laughing. “Naw, that was all Tommy. This one’s mine.” He crouched to reach under the lumpy second bed, pulling out a little tin biscuit box. Brushing aside the usual fare for a teenage boy (a few newspaper cutouts of pretty women from underwear ads, some loose change, an empty pack of cigarettes with folded love letters tucked inside), he offered him what looked to be a lump of…something.

Sam rotated it carefully. Made of wood, some clumsy score marks, a few dark brown spots of blood where John’s fingers had evidently slipped and he’d nicked himself…

“…Is it a rabbit?” Sam hazarded the guess with the sort of caution one might use to answer a Sphinx’s riddle.

John scoffed. “It’s meant to be a gun, arsehole— give me that.” He snatched it back only to toss it and the tin box unceremoniously onto the old mattress.

They were silent for a while as Sam stared out the window, taking deep diaphragm breaths to avoid the burning rise and fall of his chest. Factory smoke rose in thick ribbons into the gray sky, with furnace fires sparking fiercely enough for Sam to hear and feel it from where he stood. A few childrens’ squeals pierced the air, and an old drunkard was shoved roughly from the back door of a house with a shout to not return until sundown. A city of contradictions. The sort of city that would explain the Shelby family.

“You’ve got a…a nice place,” he said awkwardly, feeling quite dumb with the look John gave him.

“You don’t have to lie.”

“No, I mean it,” he said, finding that he truly did. “You have a solid roof over your head, a city you run, and a family who’s got your back. That’s lucky, it is.”

John shrugged, leaning against the wall beside the window. “Guess so.”

Sam hummed, turning his attention back to the window to watch a skinny man wearing a peaky hat hurrying down the alleyway, checking frantically over his shoulder before ducking around a discarded pile of refuse. He sat eerily still, tense and rigid against the courtyard wall where only a glimpse of his hat and a blood-stained sleeve could be spotted.

“Hey, John,” Sam said, slow and cautious.

John hummed his acknowledgement, pushing off from the wall to see what Sam was watching so intently. He frowned when he saw the man, eyes narrowing.

“Is… is that one of yours? A Blinder?”

“Yeah,” John responded, seemingly aiming for casual and landing more in the realm of anxious by the way his voice cracked. “Yeah, as a matter of fact, it is.” John’s shoulder brushed his as he turned away quickly, kneeling to dig under the lumpy mattress for something– a revolver and a box of ammunition, Sam realized as John clicked each bullet in place in a practiced motion. “Stay here. Don’t move, you hear me?”

Sam opened his mouth to make a smart comment, but John didn’t stick around for an answer, slamming the door behind him.

Tommy felt anger boiling in his gut, tunnel vision setting in as he strode aimlessly down the street. Who the fuck did they think they were speaking to? Tommy wasn’t clueless. He wasn’t some naive first-time gangster trembling at the sight of blood on his shoes. He was a professional. A father, a soldier, a goddamned clay kicker. If he said wait and listen, they waited and listened. If he said shoes off so the Germans don’t hear their footsteps, it was fucking shoes off. If he said “Isiah, go to The Garrison”, he went, and if he said “Sam Lovell doesn’t fucking leave”, then he fucking doesn’t.

He could’ve just shot the man. Would probably cost his rapport with Florence and, by extension, Esme. It would cause ripple effects and he’d probably see himself on the bad side of the Lees again as well as the Lovells. For all he knew, the extended family was armed to the teeth and Sam’s guileless, awkward self was the odd man out. So, no, probably shouldn’t shoot him. But it would’ve been so much easier. Less complicated to have a feud than a sneaking suspicion.

People parted around him like water, crossing streets and herding children away by the sleeves of their school shirts to clear the way. Thomas Shelby, King of Birmingham. Fucking fraud. The past few days were taking a toll on him. He was losing his edge, not enough power behind his voice to control a handful of people, much less an entire city. He needed to hear from Grace. Just once, just to check in. That was all he needed.

Without even making a conscious decision, his footsteps led him directly to The Garrison. There would be a telephone there, at the very least. He could make a call and ask Grace to put Charlie on the line if he’d already woken from his nap. At the very least he could ask how he was doing. If he missed his father. The doors swung open, the scent of beer and liquor souring in his nose with a whoosh of air. Blinking to adjust to the darkness inside, the first person to catch his eyes was Harry behind the bar. And sat before him?

“Isiah.”

The young man looked up at him, disdainful and irritated. “What, Tom?”

Tommy didn’t really have an answer for that. He leaned against the bar beside him, flagging Harry down for his usual: a glass of whiskey, Irish only. Isiah snorted beside him, shaking his head and taking another sip of his drink. A pint of beer, just like he suggested. 

“No Finn today,” Isiah mentioned, feigning casual. “Too busy chasing some tail. Unsuccessfully.”

Tommy sighed, ignoring the stickiness of the wood under his elbows as he shifted his weight. “Sounds like him.”

They were quiet for a while, the only sound between them being the clunk of Tommy’s whiskey glass as Harry placed it in front of him. Isiah didn’t seem outright angry at this point, but his jaw was tense as he watched the lingering foam of his beer dissipate and reform as more bubbles rose to the top.

I’m sorry I snapped at you, Tommy should’ve probably said. “I had John crack a window for him,” he said instead, taking a deep swig of his whiskey. The burn traveled all the way down to his stomach and settled there, a reminder of the fire that had quickly gone out when he’d opened the door to The Garrison, mild embarrassment taking its place.

Isiah hummed a short, sarcastic little tone of intrigue: is that so?

“Your input was appreciated,” he tried.

That got more of a response out of Isiah. “Why do you still treat me like a child? Finny I get, he’s your kid brother, but c’mon mate. I’m 19 now, and I earned my razors fair and square.” He flicked the brim of his flat cap, the metal sewn within glinting in the low light.

Tommy huffed a slight laugh. Even when cross, Isiah couldn’t help but be proud of his early onboarding into the gang. “That you did, Isiah,” he said. “That you did.”

They drank in silence, nodding awkwardly through their unspoken truce. Men, Ada often groaned. You can’t ever just talk to each other, can you?

“Right,” Tommy cleared his throat. “Gonna make a call home. Finn’s out, you said?”

Isiah nodded. “I’ll catch up to him somehow,” he said as Tommy rounded the corner of the bar to find the storeroom in the back.

The dust tickled his nose and the whole room smelled sour from spilt beer and Arthur’s occasional drunken overnight stay, but it was quiet and private enough for him to let his guard down and hover impatiently over the phone. The operator took her sweet time connecting him to Arrow House, but a melodic voice soothed that irritation immediately.

“Hello?”

“Grace,” he sighed.

“Tommy.” He could hear the fond smile in her voice when she spoke, warm and bright.

Christ, he missed her. Missed her gentleness, her wit, her ability to think circles around him. Perhaps that was why he needed her immediately, when he could’ve just left that night and been home by the time the nanny put Charlie to bed. She would know exactly what to say, whether she realized it or not. Whether it agreed with Tommy’s bullheadedness or not. He’d never admit it to Polly or his siblings, but that was probably a large portion of his decision.

He smiled, safe in the privacy of the storeroom. “All’s well at home? No problems?”

He could practically hear her roll her eyes, shift her weight onto her right hip, lean into the curve of the telephone receiver like a cupped palm. When she spoke to the people she loved, she was as predictable as the rising sun. It was possibly the only time he could consider her predictable at all.

“All’s well,” she replied. Then, more animated: “I’ve run the numbers on the Liverpool expansion ideas while you were out, but I can’t get past that zoning issue in the city proper. Would you talk to Polly about moving slightly more east? It’s closer to the racecourse, this new space I’ve plotted.”

Tommy sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. Liverpool was perhaps the last thing he wanted to discuss, even with Grace. “Can’t you speak to her?”

She scoffed. “No.”

Well, figures. He chuckled, which coaxed a laugh of her own through the earpiece. “I will if you put the bossman on the phone,” he said, resting back on the edge of the small oak desk behind him.

“You drive a hard bargain,” she teased, the soft waves of her hair brushing the receiver as she switched the hand that held it. “He’s woken up a bit cranky, so we’ll need to tread carefully.”

Tommy gave her an understanding ahh, waiting patiently (“Just one moment, love.”) while she spoke to the nanny, biting his lip in anticipation. Then, the little man himself took to the phone.

“Baaa-h,” he babbled, inflected upward as though he were truly answering the phone on his own. He must’ve watched them use the telephone enough to know that the strange contraption had its own set of rules.

He couldn’t help the way his grin widened. “Hi, Charlie.” The warmth radiated outward from Tommy’s heart, relaxing away the tension he held from his neck to his temples as the little boy babbled and cooed over the line, Tommy oh-I-see’ing and is-that-so’ing between the mumbles and squeals.

Soon enough, though, Charlie began to fuss and needed some time to waddle about and stretch his legs, so the phone was once again relinquished to Grace.

“Quite a talker, our boy,” she laughed.

Tommy huffed fondly, shaking his head. Grace noticed the way he’d gone quiet, of course. How couldn’t she? Tommy had never met someone so cued in on the behaviors of others, even from such a distance.

“What’s wrong?”

Tommy ran a hand down his face, sighing. “The usual. Family breathing down my neck, business to take care of, and now this whole issue with Lovell…”

Grace hummed. “Run through it with me again?”

He did, recounting the events of the past few days and reluctantly admitting to where he’d been stumped in the last few hours. The more he spoke, the more it didn’t line up: how could Sam have planted the note? Did he even know how to shoot? By all accounts, it made no sense.

“Tommy,” Grace interrupted, right as a frustrated twitch was growing in Tommy’s eyelid again. “Have you considered that maybe… he hasn’t done it? That he’s just as confused as you are?”

It wasn’t really the answer he wanted to hear, but if she’d thought of something brilliant and he didn’t listen now, she’d hold it over him for the next month at least. “Go on.”

“Well,” she started, “of course I haven’t met the man, but does he seem the type to hurt a horse like that? Or let someone do such a thing under his watch? They’re important to your people, aren’t they? And he’s quite traditional, it seems.”

Tommy hummed.

“And–” a paper rustled (had she been taking fucking notes?) “ –from the timeline you’d given me, I don’t see how he could’ve had the time to play double agent.”

“And you’d know,” he added wryly.

“I would, thank you.” She didn’t take the bait, continuing on where she’d caught the scent of a theory. “Even if he had outside help, to threaten the King of Birmingham–” she added a bit of a sarcastic flourish, which was a bit warranted in Tommy’s mind, but nevertheless made him pout, “–and then manage to get caught up in the fray, leaving himself and his fellows vulnerable? That’s not strategic. The type of people who could pull this scheme off for this long would need to be brighter than that.”

Unfortunately, it made sense. Only a complete idiot would spearhead so many moving pieces without a way out, and no gang worth their salt would leave so many loose ends. So why would Sam, the man who objectively knew the most about Tommy and the Peaky Blinders than most people in the Liverpool area, be the disposable grunt they left behind? If he was too valuable for the Blinders themselves to snuff out, then any small-time gang up near Aintree would be downright salivating to keep him alive for their sake.

In a final act of resignation, he sighed, tilting his head back and fumbling in his breast pocket for a loose cigarette. “That’s what Isiah said earlier,” he admitted. “Said that nobody would be stupid enough to let him wander about Birmingham on his own.”

Grace vocalized her recognition quite the same way Isiah had just a moment ago, too perceptive for his pride’s liking at the moment. “And did you listen to his take? Or that of any of your foot soldiers, for that matter?”

“No.” He grabbed a packet of matches from a glass bowl on the dusty shelf, the newly lit end of his cigarette a warm glow in the damp, dimly lit room. “I only asked for the straight facts. Didn’t need conjecture.”

“Didn’t need conjecture,” she repeated, tutting. “But your own call is reliable enough? That this man is a traitor, that’s not conjecture?”

Ah, fuck. This was exactly where he didn’t need this to go. “That’s just how I am, Grace,” he rasped around the smoke. “Need to call the shots so that the blame doesn’t fall on anyone else’s bad move.”

Grace paused for a moment, her hums of consideration pointed but not unkind. “Think about why that is.” And then, with a quick goodbye and an I love you for the road, the line clicked and she was gone.

Tommy wandered back into the bright daylight to smoke a cigarette, feeling calmer but no less puzzled than how he had been before. In all honesty, he hadn’t ever really examined why he was the way he was. To Isiah, to Michael, to Finn. But it made sense, didn’t it? They just didn’t have that air of seriousness that age had given the people around him. Like they’d reached the right age but a switch hadn’t flipped, or like they were taking good care to wade slowly into the water so as not to break a single ripple. The war, he thought bitterly. The war was the switch. The war was that icy plunge. Perhaps it was what made Isiah more charismatic, or Michael more straight-laced, or Finn more forgiving. Nobody had pressed a shovel to their hands and demanded they dig for their lives. Nobody had made a soldier out of a boy like they did to—

“Tommy!”

The smoke caught in his throat, the shout so loud and close to him it forced the soot out through his nostrils like factory fire. Isiah had him by the upper arm, the grip a bit foreign and far-away like it usually was after he’d been lost in the mind’s tunnels for a bit. When had he gotten so close?

“Tom, there’s trouble,” he rushed. “Finn. He’s been—“

Tommy was moving before Isiah could finish his sentence, the young man jogging ahead to lead the way. Birmingham dispersed around them, women hurrying aside and old men bowing their heads to avoid eye contact as they passed. Curtains drew closed and doors locked in their wake as they swept through the town like a hissed rumor.

Tommy’s coat billowed behind him when he picked up speed. “Where, Isiah? Is he—“

“He’s alive. He’s fine, we made it out. But—“

“Fuck!” Tommy lost his footing on the cobblestones, slick with mud and…

Blood.

The wine red splash beneath his shoes hadn’t started to congeal yet, diluted by rainwater across the stones. But still, no sign of Finn. Isiah grabbed him beneath the arm, hauling him forward in a way that he never would have accepted had his baby brother not been in danger. “Not here,” Isiah said. “He ran off. Come on, this way.”

They found themselves on Watery Lane, but before Tommy could make a beeline for the house, Isiah skidded around the corner, hat nearly flying off his head as he sprinted down the back alleyway between rows of brown-bricked houses and dreary little courtyards.

Tommy saw three things in quick succession: first, Finn leaning against a wall, clutching his upper forearm with one hand. Second, the blood: slimy wet through the gaps of Finn’s fingers, dyeing the fabric of his sleeve pink. Third— and most crucial, this third —Sam Lovell, shoulders curled in and eyes wild, knife glinting in his hand. John’s hands were pushing back on his shoulders before he could advance far enough to crack the man’s skull on the rough cobblestone.

“Easy, Tom.” John sidestepped into Tommy’s sight line, snapping him from the daze of adrenaline. “He’s fine. He’s fine. Sam’s got him, we’re fine.”

Now Tommy could see that the knife was the small whittling blade from their childhood, so old it was no longer sharp or long enough to cause real damage. He let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding, an unseen tangle uncoiling from his innards.

“Tommy!” Finn pushed up from his spot on the wall, hurrying to his side with relief written all over his expression. “Did you see it? Did you see the fight?”

Tommy frowned. “No, Finn.”

“Well, I won.” He preened like a boy five years his younger, as though he’d evaded a schoolyard bully rather than escaped with his life.

“Sure looks like it,” Tommy nodded his chin towards the wound Finn was busy clutching. Finn flushed, stammering out excuses before he was cut off by John.

“It looks worse than it is,” John said. “He’ll need to flush it out but it’s pretty shallow. Just in a bad spot.”

Tommy grabbed Finn by the arm, forcing him to straighten it out with a hiss. As John said, it really wasn’t that bad: a clean, razor-sharp slash across the inner elbow, deep enough to draw forth a dramatic weeping of blood but not so deep to cause any real harm. The blood on the sidewalk must’ve not been Finn’s, he thought, letting himself sigh deeply with relief.

Sam cleared his throat, shifting his weight awkwardly from foot to foot. “Can I, um…”

“Oh!” John exclaimed. “Right, yeah. Sam’s been keeping an eye out here while we sorted things out on the streets. And I know—“ he held out his hand to prevent Tommy from speaking his mind on it, “—I know, you said he can’t leave, but I couldn’t just leave Finn out here with fuck-knows-who, and Sam was already on his way out here by the time I got myself straight.”

Sam nodded, wiping his sweaty hands on his trousers. “Got a glimpse of one of ‘em trying to come back and finish the job, but she ran off.”

Tommy’s brows raised. “She?”

“I think so,” he said. “Couldn’t chase her down, though, because… well.” He gestured towards his torso, where the whole of his ribcage was bandaged tight.

“There were four total. I couldn’t see most of their faces,” Finn chimed in, eyes wide, “but the woman… oh, she was sport, Tommy.”

Tommy pinched the bridge of his nose, John and Isiah breaking the tension with barking guffaws and slaps on each other’s shoulders like a pair of giddy sea lions. Leave it to Finn. As difficult as it was to keep him sheltered and safe from the dirty business, the bizarre and unguarded things that came out of his mouth made it worth it– a glimpse of the boyhood he was lucky to have. Still, he couldn’t walk around thinking with his prick in a city like this. He needed to be careful.

“Is that how they caught you unawares, Finn?” Tommy shoved him gently in the center of the chest, and Finn had the decency to look properly admonished. “Women? A pretty face and you’ll let them slice you to bits?”

Finn shrugged, but said nothing to save his pride. Isiah, noble soul that he was, swooped to his defense. “It was a proper ambush,” Isiah said, pointing at the bruise just now starting to bloom on his cheek. “We fought as best we could, but we had to split at some point. Just too much going on. Didn’t catch anyone’s face, not even the woman. So,” he stepped back to pat Sam on the shoulder, who winced piteously, “thank the Lord Jesus for Sam being one scary bastard. Kept ‘em at bay long enough for John and Arthur to try and sniff ‘em out.”

Tommy hummed, thinking back to what Grace had said. Did you listen to him? Everything in him screamed danger-danger-danger, to not trust this ghost of a person with what matters most to him. He swallowed, dry throat clicking. Yes, he was an unknown variable, and yes, he had been looming in the corners of his mind since the Aintree job went wrong, but… hadn’t he kept his brother safe with nothing more than a pocket knife, injured and tired? Hadn’t he disobeyed orders to put himself in the line of fire for a family that was debating the necessity of letting him live?

Think about why that is.

“Samuel.” He stepped forward, hand extended. Sam shrank back an inch, wary. “Thank you.”

Sam got the message and shook the proffered hand, brows still scrunched tight and eyes narrowed in suspicion like he was putting his fist into the mouth of a wolf. Tommy’s brain procured the image of a stray being offered table scraps instead of a kick to the side; the way it might slink forward, ears back and tail tucked to make itself smaller. Born to trust, raised to fear.

“No worries,” Sam said. “Just did what anyone would.”

The adrenaline wore off quicker than Sam would’ve liked, considering how nobody seemed particularly keen on letting him relax anytime soon. He considered tossing the knife, making a show of being unarmed, but… well, it was a perfectly good knife. A bit dull, sure, but not terrible. Most importantly, it wasn’t his and he had no authority to lose such a thing, so he resolved to stumble back down the alley and into the house on Watery Lane with the rest of them, the muscles of his back and chest taut and rigid around the pain.

It hadn’t been so much of a decision to join the fray as it was an impulse, an itch under the skin impossible to ignore. Something didn’t sit right about the young man hiding in the alleyway. He looked too young, too unsure of himself, checking so frequently from behind his hiding spot that he risked giving himself away to whoever was chasing him. John was taking too long to get there, and Sam? Well, he knew what to do with a fucking pocket knife, at the very least.

By the time he inched his way down to the bottom of the stairs, Paul was long gone and Fia, Polly, and Esme were having a quiet, heated discussion behind the large wooden doors separating the parlor from the betting room. Arthur was nowhere to be seen; probably off with John, if he were to guess. It was easy enough to slip out the front door, unseen and unheard. From that alone, Sam knew whatever had happened must’ve been serious.

Still, when he approached John and Arthur halfway down the alley, it shocked him that he went unaccosted for leaving the house. But looking at the boy leaning against the wall, whimpering against the stinging in his inner arm, Sam knew exactly who this had to be. Finn, the youngest, his mind supplied. No wonder they’d broken protocol so readily.

“Sam!” John’s shout caught his attention. “Sam, stay here, alright?”

That confused him even further. First, it was stay inside, now stay outside? “But–”

John ignored him. “Arthur, you take north and I’ll take south. We flush ‘em out, wherever they’re hiding.”

And then they left them there, just Sam and Finn and a three inch blade. The very same one he’d stolen from Tommy and John’s childhood room, and the same one he waved threateningly at a young woman prowling from the far end of the alley, something sharp glinting in her own hand before she turned and fled. The same one he used to open the letter Arthur brought back with him.

“Couldn’t catch up, but one of ‘em dropped this,” he grumbled, panting with the effort it took to run back to the house. Arthur let a crisp white envelope with no return address flop onto the table. On the back, printed in dark ink, were just three words: Brummies, be warned.

As Arthur read the words out loud, Sam suddenly felt that he could throw up at any moment once again. Damn his sore head and weak nerves.

They let him do the honors (or, perhaps, didn’t want to touch whatever was inside), the knife sliding below the seal as they watched on eagerly. Fia bit the skin around her fingers as Esme wrapped an arm around her shoulders, one hand rubbing her arm comfortingly. It came open easily enough; Sam wasn’t quite sure why he thought there would be an issue, as though he were defusing a bomb rather than opening a stupid fucking envelope. He shouldn’t have been sweating the way he was. At least, he didn’t feel the need to sweat until he saw the contents.

An obituary. He knew it by the polite little boxes labeled with polite little names, a paragraph under each like paper tombstones. He knew the face printed there as the grim special feature, freckled and messy-haired with ears that stuck out and skin dotted with pimples– the jockey, George. The one whose dreams were crushed that day when he pulled the nail from Little Tsarina’s foot.

“I know him,” Sam mumbled, awestruck and horrified. “Oh, fuck, I know him.” He did get sick then, stumbling just far enough outside and away from the table to avoid getting everyone else caught in the crossfire as they swept in to read it themselves. They were speaking over each other, arguing about something, but Sam couldn’t find it in himself to give a shit about anything until Fia’s small palm pressed between his shoulder blades, rubbing soothingly.

“You’re alright, Sam,” she whispered. “You’re alright.”

But he fucking wasn’t, and he didn’t realize it until he noticed that he couldn’t see past the tears blurring his eyes and dripping from his lashes. Fuck, fuck, fuck. He retched once, coughing around the thick, dehydrated saliva coating his mouth and the effort of holding himself upright. It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fucking fair. How could every single thing he touched die like this? What sort of curse had tainted his hands in such a way that wherever he went, plans failed? Dreams were crushed? People were hurt? He shook his head, flanks shuddering, shrugging off Fia’s valiant attempt at drying his eyes with a handkerchief. Things hadn’t been this way until the Shelby family entered his life… hadn’t they? Or had it begun before then, when the youngest Lee daughter decided to fall in love with him at 12 and then keep his baby at 24, image be damned? The more he ruminated, the more it sounded like he was the unlucky thing brought upon himself and everyone.

“It’s not your fault, Samuel.”

He looked up, not expecting Tommy to be standing in the doorway looking at him. He repeated it: “It isn’t your fault.”

Sam blinked at him, unsure if what he was hearing was genuinely coming from Tommy’s mouth or if it was some sort of cruel hallucination, a trick his mind was playing to make the shame easier to handle.

“I owe you an apology,” he gritted out, and just when Sam was sure he needed to be checked into a hospital for the insane, Tommy unfolded the obituary in his hand— that is, unfolded it all the way. Now Sam could see its entirety, complete with large black slashes of ink scrawled across the bottom of the full page. Fia gasped, covering her mouth with one hand.

“It’s the same handwriting as before,” Tommy explained. “Trouble’s followed us down from Aintree.”

“That’s- it can’t be from Sam,” Fia stammered. “I told you, Sam can’t—“

“Can’t read, I know.” Tommy stepped down from the doorway, handing the paper to Fia. “And that’s how I know he isn’t associated with whoever’s writing to us. Evidently, they have no clue.”

She took a moment to read over the message, frowning. Then read it again. And then a third time.

“Well?” Sam let the wall behind him carry his weight, the excitement of the day wearing off and leaving him exhausted and achy.

Fia shook her head. “It doesn’t make sense. Sam, it’s addressed to you.”

A cold sweat broke out on Sam’s skin, his stomach swooping like he’d dreamt of falling and woken with a jolt. He looked to Tommy for confirmation, denial, anything, his stone-cold demeanor betraying nothing. “What…what does it say?”

“Hangdog,” she read, voice tremulous, “keep your snout out.”

“And the back,” Tommy added, and now Sam could see without the obituary to hide behind that his face was ashen and gaunt. Had he slept any better than Sam these past few days? What a strange thought to have, worrying over a man who just an hour ago would have dumped his corpse in the canal if it meant going back home.

Fia flipped the paper, and George’s small, hapless face stared down at him like damnation painted on the apse of a cathedral. “Curiosity— oh, god.” She squeezed her eyes shut.

“Read it,” said Tommy.

A sigh, meek and resigned. “Curiosity killed the mutt. Revelation 6:8.”

The Book of Revelation. Images flashed through Sam’s mind like the movement of a zoetrope, too quick to grasp in his hands. His childhood, Sam’s mother holding his little hand in hers at a fresco-drenched cathedral now long gone, pointing, look! Look deeply and see the beauty of it. See the brushstrokes, see the light take shape. Horses, fearsome ones, thundering over the dome of the earth to rain hellfire. All manner of suffering to come, the sun blotted out by the wet, glossy eye of a ghastly thing; a slither of sinew and limp, rotted muscle bound up together around bone in the form of a—

“Pale horse,” Sam breathed.

Tommy and Fia shared a look.

“And I looked, and behold a pale horse,” he recited, possessed by the words like a man lit by the fire of Pentecost, “and his name that sat on him was Death.”

Tommy nodded soberly, taking the paper from Fia and folding it to fit inside his suit jacket. “I figured as much.” He glanced overhead, where the thin hazy gray of the sky was beginning to thicken into a thundercloud darkness. “The obituary didn’t say how the jockey died.”

Sam shook his head. “Wouldn’t be surprised if he killed himself, with the loss of a horse’s career like that. The time, the money… the bond, hell.”

“Or,” Tommy posited, “he was killed. Perhaps in investigating what happened to his pale horse, he learned something he shouldn’t have.”

“And now they’re angry because I intervened,” Sam said, crestfallen. “I was the one who told him it wasn’t an accident.”

Fia drew her shawl tight around her shoulders, expression grim. “And what does it mean for us?”

She was drawn into Sam’s side with an arm around her waist, going easily and sinking into the closeness. “Means we can’t go back to Haydock,” said Sam, voice laden with sorrow.

“I’d say it’s worse than that.” Tommy took a cautious glance up and down the empty street, then beckoned them in with a nod of his head. He shut the door behind them with a click, doing up three sturdy-looking locks with one last look through the peephole. “We still don’t know where they have eyes. Could be anywhere.”

Sam turned to see the rest of the Shelby family gone from the foyer, the sound of bickering over antiseptic and Finn’s pained yelp muffled through the kitchen door. With more time to process his surroundings, Sam could spy scattered evidence of many years of racketeering: a bullet hole patched in the wall here, a stain of god-knows-what scrubbed from the rug there. A gun safe tucked under the couch, even, the door flung open in Arthur’s haste to run after Finn’s assailants. Not a fortress by any means, if the twice-repaired bottom lock on the door was any indication, but somewhat of a safe haven for a family plagued by tragedy. A safe haven no more, he thought, shaking his head to clear the accusation away. No, this house had seen its fair share of violence before him. But this… this stalking, this couldn’t be normal going by Tommy’s reaction.

“I’m afraid,” the aforementioned man rumbled, “that Birmingham isn’t safe, either.”

Fia scoffed. An understatement from the start, her sidelong glance said.

“We can leave,” Sam said hastily, already grabbing Fia’s hand and making for the door. Tommy blocked their way, standing in such a way that there was no looking away from the winter coldness of his gaze. The fear in it, too, if Sam looked deeply enough.

“No,” Tommy said, patting Sam’s shoulder lightly. “No, no. Too risky to go alone. I couldn’t…” he glanced at where Fia had placed a protective hand over her belly, a habit she’d developed in the past few months, “...couldn’t live with myself if something went wrong.”

“Or you want to keep us under supervision, aye?” Fia grumbled, ignoring the way Sam shot her an admonishing look.

Tommy rubbed a hand down his face, visibly drained. “I want you to be safe,” he said. “It’s the least I can do. Just… just until this goes away. Until we can figure out who’s been after us.”

“Safe where?” Now Fia sounded anxious, the reality setting in that there really was nowhere to run if danger could be around any corner. “If we can’t go back, but we can’t stay here…”

“Warwickshire,” Tommy said. “I’ve property there, acres of it. Samuel and I,” he nodded towards him, which Sam rather wished he hadn’t, because the responding look Fia gave him was downright betrayed, “we discussed setting you up for the winter. The cold road’s no place for a new mother.”

Fia saw the reason in it. She had to, if she knew what kind of winter they’d be in for with a baby and a threat on Sam’s head. With one last we’re talking about this later look at Sam, she nodded. “If we have no other options.”

“Trust me,” Tommy said grimly, “there are no other options.”

[thefirstknife]

Sorry for the long ask, but as somebody who's recently been enjoying the tries revamp and the accessibility it gives to middling pvp players, I've been getting into the lore on the trials gear, and there's a lot of entries so I'm having trouble keeping track. I've mostly been interested in Sola, who only seems to come up a few times? She ends up torturing a guardian in the trials, looking for 'something inside them like in her.' It's interesting though, because the power she wields, (and seemingly seeks when Aunor catches her tracking an anomaly in arrivals) isn't described as darkness or stasis, but some kind of corrupted void light? I can't find mention of anything else like this, and I feel like there's lore entries I'm missing?

Anyways, Trestin, another trials guardian, gets killed unnecessarily viciously by Sola (I think, that lore entry mentions they're competing against Crimiq-5, who is on Sola's fire time, so this seems right) and later goes on to become obsessed with stasis, torture house salvation refugees as well as her own fireteam, and gets put down by Aunor as well. Is this a coincidence? Does Sola do what she does to Trestin because she sees the same temptation towards corruption? Or is it more direct? It almost seems like she passes it on, virulently, and I'm mainly wondering if that's something that has any other evidence when it comes to corrupted guardians. I figure you might know, I'm having trouble searching since some of it is trials gear, some isn't, and they don't all mention everyone's name

Took me a while to get the full info on this because I wanted to put all of the lore entries in order and they're kinda scattered around!

Okay, so, this story is told on Trials weapons lore. First batch was released in Season of the Worthy and then the sort of conclusion in Season of the Chosen. There's a minor update in Season of Arrivals on non-Trials gear (Temptation's Hook). The first batch of lore details a single Trials match between two fireteams.

One fireteam consists of Trestin, Yara and Sadhij. The other fireteam is Sola, Crimiq-5 and Katake. Roughly in some semblance of order, the lore on items is as follows:

The Summoner - This seems to be the start as it shows Trestin meeting up with her fireteam and going into the match. The one important thing to note here is that Trestin was apparently deeply affected by what happened on the Moon (during Shadowkeep and the discovery of the Pyramid) and seems to be resigned that the end is coming and that there's nothing anyone can do about it. It appears she was somewhat influenced by the Pyramid into despair and losing hope.

Astral Horizon - This is somewhere at the start of the match. Sadhij tells his teammates Trestin and Yara that he's going for one of the enemies (Katake). He charges with a shotgun and uses Thundercrash which completely obliterates Katake. No surprise there. However, at the end, there is a rifle shot and then silence.

Exile's Curse - This details the start of the match from the other team's perspective. We see the same event of Katake being Thundercrashed by Sadhij from the eyes of his teammate Crimiq-5 who warns Katake about being out of line of sight. Crimiq-5 witnesses Katake being obliterated.

Eye of Sol - Again from Crimiq's POV, he is standing in the back with a sniper rifle and he watches Sola attacking Trestin. He seems to be very distraught about this:

Sola had ripped through their previous opponents with off-putting ferocity, and Crimiq was ready for this to be their last match of the day. He looked over her through his scope. Sola's silhouette marinated in an eerie shimmer that distorted the air as she moved.

He shoots a warning shot at her position to keep the third opponent (Yara) in cover. Then he hears Katake's cry for help against the Thundercrash and aims there, killing Sadhij. That's the rifle shot at the end of Astral Horizon lore.

The Scholar - This moves us to Sola's POV, where it's described that she's torturing Trestin and telling her that she can feel "it" in her too. I assume that both Sola and Trestin were deeply affected by the Lunar Pyramid and were both in the early stages of corruption by it. Sola felt it in Trestin.

"So…" Sola's intent bit deeper, malleable claws that flexed against her prey's Light. They probed through blood and muscle to an umbral center. "…it's within you too."

After the torture incident, Saint steps in to end the match and reprimand Sola. He also reprimands Crimiq, but Crimiq says he doesn't want anything to do with Sola. This further angers Sola and she leaves, telling everyone they're "as good as dead anyway." Note the same kind of despair and loss of hope that Trestin exhibited even before she was attacked by Sola.

Tomorrow's Answer - This brings us a bit back to the final person who has a POV which is Yara who witnesses what Sola did to Trestin:

A violet shockwave pushed away the dust. Trestin knelt a few paces away, beaten. The Warlock bent her glowing hand into Trestin's chest plate, lodging a vortex grenade into her armor. Yara met her eyes and saw the Void overtake her. She did not hear the scream, or the splitting armor. She only saw flickers of Trestin break apart and scatter as the vortex ate away at her.

Sola lodged an entire vortex grenade into Trestin. Horrible way to die. Yara yells at Sola about Trestin not deserving that and Sola snaps back:

"None of us 'deserve.' It's about what you can get." The Warlock smiled and raised a hand of gnarled Void. "Brace yourself."

This shows how far gone Sola was. Definitely far more corrupted than Trestin. Presumably, Sola also finished off Yara in the match before it ended.

In Season of Arrivals, there's an update about this on Temptation's Hook. It's shown that Sola has been captured by the Praxic Order. The Praxics lead by Aunor know that Sola took another Guardian "to the outer system" and that they did not return with Sola.

I assume "the outer system" means Europa, but that's only because now we have additional information from Season of the Chosen. Since this is from Season of the Worthy, it could also mean that Sola and Trestin went out further into the outer system and met with the Black Fleet (the Black Fleet lurking at the edges of the system is mentioned in this lore). Sola also says some strange things:

"I learned the secret. The one your hounds have hidden away in that quaint little vault." Sola smiles red through split lips. "You're on the losing side."

"Do you think you have nothing to lose, or that I wouldn't take it from you? You're sorely, and soon to be regretfully, mistaken."

Sola spits in Aunor's face. "You have limits. You have masters." A twisted Light shimmers in Sola's hand as she moves to attack. "Enjoy hanging to death in your strings!"

This is probably referring to the presence of Darkness on Europa to which Sola and Trestin were either directly exposed OR they may have been told about it during their visit to the Black Fleet (depending on where they went exactly). It appears her Ghost was also exposed. Both Sola and her Ghost are contained by the Praxic Order: Sola killed and her Ghost disabled from resurrecting her.

The next, roughly chronologically would be The Messenger. Some time has passed. Aunor meets with Ikora about the problem of another corrupted Guardian who tortured Eliksni civilians, asking them about Eramis and how she accessed Darkness, as well as torturing her own teammates. It's revealed that the Guardian in question is still located on Europa and trying to access Darkness as well as that the Guardian's name is Trestin.

That leaves us with the final entry which is Sola's Scar. In it, we follow Trestin on Europa as she's nearing the Darkness obelisk, eager to get its power. She details how she betrayed her fireteam and what was driving her:

Over the radio, Lord Saladin's voice grew staticky: "Cabal incursion… Vex… up ahead." Without a word, Trestin's Ghost switched it off. There were others nearby to carry out the Iron Lord's orders. He wouldn't miss them.

She doubted anyone would—her ex-teammates least of all. She had betrayed them, or so Sadhij had screamed: "We're supposed to be the thin line drawn before the Darkness, you traitor!"

|| Thin indeed. So why not step over it? ||

Because they didn't have it in them. She checked. Cracked them both open and dug deep, just to be extra sure. But it wasn't there. That hunger, immense and buried, like the ocean under Europa's glacial crust. A riptide, undetectable from the surface, yet unrelenting in its pull. She never meant to betray anyone. She just wanted release.

|| Soon, you will have it. Soon, you will be freed. ||

She has brief memories of her fireteam, namely one of Yara's jokes. Darkness makes sure to tell her that such attachment is weakness. Just before Trestin reaches the obelisk, Aunor catches up to her and asks her to come quietly. Trestin disobeys and Aunor strikes her down with a sword.

I assume the name of the weapon where this lore is written, Sola's Scar, refers to the "scar" that Sola left in Trestin when she tortured her during the Trials match. Both Sola and Trestin seem to have been deeply affected by the Lunar Pyramid and it drove them to extremes which eventually led to both of them becoming corrupted and betraying the Light. It's interesting that in Sola's case, there's no Stasis involved: her Light was corrupted. Specifically her Void.

Not sure about Trestin and if she ever got Stasis and which other power and/or knowledge she was seeking from the Darkness, but either way the corruption of both of these Guardians came from the same source, entwined them together and eventually led to both of them being taken down by Aunor.

It's a really tragic story and the reason why I really like this type of lore about just some other Guardians and how they're experiencing the events we go through with in the game. Especially how it highlights just how much of an outlier the Young Wolf is and how things we do are really difficult or downright impossible for other Guardians to deal with. Both Sola and Trestin were victims of powers they could not handle.

[dwellordream]

“...Where the show had sensibly added yurts and merely forgot to have any way to move them, Martin has the Dothraki live in “palaces of woven grass” (AGoT, 83) which I assume the show did not replicate because the moment someone described doing that everyone realized what a bad idea it was and moved on to something more sensible like a yurt covered in leather. Grass and reeds, of course, can be woven. However, as anyone who has done so will tell you, the idea of trying to weave what is essentially a grass basket the size of a tent in a single day is not an enviable – or remotely possible – task.

Trying to move such a giant grass basket without it coming apart or developing tears and gaps is hardly better. And at the end, a woven-grass structure wouldn’t even really be particularly good at controlling temperature, which is its entire purpose! It is rather ironic, given that unlike the show’s Dothraki, Martin’s Dothraki do seem to use at least some carts, because Viserys is forced to ride in one (AGoT, 323) and so could bring yurts with them. They just don’t.

More to the point, it is very clear that Martin imagines the Dothraki subsistence system to consist almost entirely of horses. The Dothraki ride horses, they eat horses, they drink fermented mare’s milk. The Dothraki – as in the show – are presented as eating almost entirely horsemeat. They eat horsemeat at the wedding (AGoT, 84), and Daenerys’ attendants are surprised that she asks for any kind of meat other than horse (AGoT, 129), although Daenerys herself seems to have access to a more agrarian diet (AGoT, 198) and other characters observe that the Dothraki prefer horsemeat to anything else (AGoT, 272). There is no mention of herds of anything except people and horses moving with the khalasaar.

There is also no sense that the Dothraki are hunting big game like one would in the Great Plains; Drogo kills a hrakkar – a sort of lion, apparently – as a display of bravery (AGoT, 495) but there is nothing that would suggest the kind of bison-based subsistence system (at the very least, if that was the system, Daenerys would be well aware of it, because the camp would be awash in bison-products). I found no references to larger game and the Wiki only offers, “packs of wild dogs, herds of free-ranging horses, and rare hrakkar” which is, needless to say, not enough to make up for the absence of large herds of bison, especially for trying to feed Drogo’s camp of perhaps a hundred thousand people (or more!).

They clearly do not herd sheep. This becomes painfully obvious with the raid on the Lhazareen village. The Dothraki – Khal Ogo’s men – in raiding a sedentary pastoralist settlement, kill all of the sheep and leave them to rot. Dany sees them “thousands of them, black with flies, arrow shafts bristling from each carcass” and only knows that this isn’t Drogo’s work because he would have killed the shepherds first (AGoT, 555). And we are told that the people there “the Dothraki called them haesh rakhi, the Lamb Men….Khal Drogo said they belong south of the river bend. The grass of the Dothraki sea was not meant for sheep” (AGoT, 556).

We are told that the Dothraki have “vast herds” but this can only mean herds of horses, given that they apparently take offense at any other animal being grazed on the Dothraki and look down at shepherds in general (AGoT, 83). To be clear, for a nomadic people moving over vast grassland to spurn the opportunity to capture vast herds of sheep would be extraordinarily stupid. At the very least, thousands of sheep are valuable trade goods that can literally walk themselves to the point of sale (we’ll get to this idea that the Dothraki also don’t understand commerce a little later, but it is also intense rubbish; horse nomads in both the New World and the Old understood trade networks quite well and utilized them adroitly). But more broadly, as I hope we’ve laid out, sheep are extremely valuable for subsistence in Steppe terrain.

But Martin does not even do horse-string logistics right. While Daenerys eats cheese (AGoT, 198), we never hear of the Dothraki doing so. The Dothraki do have an equivalent to qumis, but no qulut, no yogurt. Even the frankly badass bit about drinking the horse’s blood as a source of nourishment does not appear. The horses themselves are also wrong. First, Daenerys and Drogo each have one horse they use, seemingly to the exclusion of all others. If you have been reading this long, you know that is nonsense: they ought to both (and Jorah too, if he intends to keep up) be shifting between multiple horses to avoid riding any of them into the ground. Moreover, Martin has imported a European custom about horses – that men ride stallions and women ride mares – into a context where it makes no sense. Drogo’s horse is clearly noted as a red stallion (AGoT, 88) while Daenerys’ horse is a silver filly (AGoT, 87). But of course the logistics of Steppe raiding revolves around mares; in trying to give Drogo the ultimate manly-man horse, he has actually given him the equivalent of a broken down beater – a horse only able to fulfill a slim parts of its role.

Finally, the group size here is wildly off. For comparison, Timothy May estimates that, in 1206, when Temujin he took the name Chinggis Khan and thus became the Great Khan, ruling the entire eastern half of the Eurasian Steppe, that the Mongol army “probably numbered less than a hundred thousand men” (May, The Mongols, (2019), 43), though by that point his army included not merely Mongols, but other ethnically distinct groups of steppe nomads, Merkits, Naimans, Keraites, Uyghurs and the Tatars (the last of which Chinggis had essentially exterminated – next time, we’ll get to the nonsense of the Dothraki being a single ethnic group).

That is, to be clear, compared to the armies of sedentary empires of similar size (which is to say, huge) a fairly small number! We’re going to come back to this next week, but the strength of Steppe nomads was never in numbers. Pastoralism is a low density subsistence strategy, so the steppe nomads were almost always outnumbered by their sedentary opponents (Chinggis himself overcomes this problem by folding sedentary armies into his own, giving him agrarian numbers, backed by the fearsome fighting skills of his steppe nomads).

Khal Drogo’s khalasaar, which moves as a single unit, supposedly has 40,000 riders (AGoT, 325-6); Drogo is perhaps the strongest Khal, but still only one of many. With 40,000 riders, we have to imagine an entire khalasaar of at least 120,000 Dothraki (plus all the slaves they seem to have – put a pin in that for later; also that number is a low-ball because violent mortality is clearly very high among the Dothraki, which would increase the proportion of women and children) and probably something like 300,000 horses. At least. Of course no grassland could support those numbers without herds of sheep or other cattle. As noted above, Isenberg’s figures suggest much lower density in the absence of herding – just under 70,000 nomadic Native Americans on the Great Plains in 1780 (and less than 40,000 in 1877), including women and children! But more to the point, no assemblage of animals and people that large could stay together for any length of time without depleting the grass stocks.

Even if we ignore that problem and even if we assume that the Dothraki have Mongol-style pastoral logistics to enable higher population density on the Dothraki Sea, my sense is that the numbers still don’t work. Even before Drogo dies, we meet quite a few other independent Khals with their on khalasaars – Moro, Jommo, Ogo, Zekko and Motho at least and it is implied that there are more. Drogo’s numbers suggests he should be roughly at the stage Chinggis Khan was in 1201 or so – with Chinggis controlling roughly half of the Mongolian Steppe, and his old friend and rival Jamukha the other half. But Khal Drogo has evidently at least a half-dozen rivals, probably more. It is hard to say with any certainty, but the numbers generally seem too high. Having that entire group concentrated, moving together for at least nine months (long enough for Daenerys to become pregnant and give birth) would be simply impossible inside of a grazing-based subsistence system, sheep or no sheep.

In short, no part of this subsistence system works, either from a North American or a Eurasian perspective. This isn’t actually much of a surprise. Martin has been pretty clear that he doesn’t like the kind of history we’re doing here. As he states: I am not looking for academic tomes about changing patterns of land use, but anecdotal history rich in details of battles, betrayals, love affairs, murders, and similar juicy stuff.

That’s an odd position for an author who critiques other authors for being insufficiently clear about their characters’ tax policy (what does he think they are taxing, other than agricultural land use?). Now, I won’t begrudge anyone their pleasure reading, whatever it may be. But what I hope the proceeding analysis has already made clear is that it simply isn’t possible to say any fictional culture is ‘an amalgam’ of a historical culture if you haven’t even bothered to understand how that culture functions. And it should also be very clear at this point that George R. R. Martin does not have a firm grasp on how any of these cultures function.”

- Bret Devereaux, “That Dothraki Horde, Part II: Subsistence on the Hoof.”

[wiypt-writes]

Stark Spangled Banner

Ch57: We’re In The Endgame Now

Intro: Steve and Katie, along with the rest of their team are locked in a fearsome battle, between light and dark, life and death. And it’s a battle they cannot afford to lose because they’re in the Endgame now…

Warnings: “Language!” Character death. Please have your tissues ready, we all know where this one is going and, well, I bawled like a baby writing it so…

Pairing: Steve Rogers x OFC Katie Stark

A/N: I’m REALY nervous about this one!! I hope I do it justice. It flits between perspectives so I hope you can follow it, and used a lot of visuals too. Once more HUGE, HUGE, HUGE thanks to @angrybirdcr​ for her wicked work.

Disclaimer: This is a pure work of fiction and classified as 18+. Please respect this and do not read if you are underage. I do not own any characters in this series bar Katie Stark and the other OCs. By reading beyond this point you understand and accept the terms of this disclaimer.

Chapter 56

Stark Spangled Banner Masterlist // Main Masterlist

“Stevie.” Steve heard Katie’s voice breaking through the fog in his brain. It was desperate, shattered, and something else inside him broke even more. “You gotta get up, Soldier,” she pleaded, shaking his shoulder, “come on, please.”

And then, suddenly, it was another voice he was hearing. A voice he hadn’t heard for almost a century, but it was clear as day, the memory as fresh in his mind as it had been the day she’d said it…

“You always get up Stevie, ya hear?” His Ma looked at him, wiping the blood from his split lip, ignoring his flinch. “No matter how hard they hit ya, you never give them the satisfaction of stayin’ down, lad, never. You push back, and eventually they’ll realise that they can’t fight forever.”

Steve grit his teeth as he rolled to the side, Katie’s hand still on his shoulder as he rest against his forearm, gathering his strength to push himself to his feet. He turned his face to look at Katie, her face plate was open and there were tears streaking down her cheeks, and she nodded to him.

“We need to try, keep him distracted until Tony and Thor come round. Hopefully the others can find their way back to the surface. And then if we can get the stones we can end this.” It was a long shot, beyond long in fact. Steve knew that. Katie knew that. But whilst there was hope, no matter how small a hope it was, or how beaten they felt, they had to try.

As he shifted again, ready to rise to his feet he felt Katie shift a little so she was shielding Steve with her body as she knelt by his side, and when he glanced up at her he saw her focussed to her left, utter hatred and fear clouding her pretty face.

“In all my years of conquest, violence, slaughter, it was never personal.” Thanos spoke as Katie and Steve both glared at him from their vantage point on the floor. “But I’ll tell you now, what I’m about to do to your stubborn, annoying little planet…I’m gonna enjoy it. Very, very much.”

And then, as they watched, behind Thanos, a blue light beamed down form the sky and when it dissipated it left what looked like thousands of soldiers stood in rows. Thanos had brought his entire army. The so called Children of Thanos, hundreds upon hundreds of Chitauri and those damned dog things they had fought in Wakanda…

Katie took a shaky breath, and let out a sob as she realised that any hope they had was gone. They might, just might have stood a chance against Thanos alone, but not against his full army. She locked eyes with Steve before he looked down at the ground, away from her eyes, his own tears filling his eyes as he understood this was it.

This was the end. For them, for their kids, for the world.

According to some, there’s a calm serenity that descends on you when you know your time is up. But Steve didn’t feel calm, he felt anger, hatred, and all towards himself. This was down to him, he’d brought this upon his family, his friends. He should have left those fucking stones in the past and dealt with his feelings of failure. Instead, here he was, a failure again. Beaten on a battlefield by the very man they actually killed some five years previously that was now about to wipe out the entire world. How fucked up was that?

“We are not going like this.” Katie was now openly sobbing as she shook her head, looking from Steve to the assembled army. “Not like this. We stand up, and we go fighting, you hear me?”

Steve glanced at the broken shield on his arm, swallowing as he remembered Jamie looking at him when he told him he used to be Captain America. His beautiful baby boy’s eyes that were so like Steve’s mother’s, wide with awe, and pride. Well fuck this. Katie was right, his Ma was right. If he was going, then he was going down fighting. Alongside his best gal, his partner, the woman who gave him more strength than any serum ever could.

With a low groan, Steve pushed himself to his feet, teeth grit, fierce determination across every line on his face. With a shaking hand he tightened the leather straps on his broken shield around his arm and stood tall, turning to Katie.

“I love you,” he choked out, holding out his right hand to grip her left gauntlet, “’til the end of the line.” She turned to him, her eyes streaming with tears before she reached up and pulled his face to hers, pressing a fierce kiss to his lips.

“The very end.” She stuttered out, before they turned to face their death.

Captain America and Supernova, Steve Rogers and Katie Stark, Man and Wife walked slowly towards Thanos, who simply stood, his head cocked to his right. However, they’d barely made it four foot when their communicators started crackling.

“Hey, Cap, you read me?”

It was faint…and broken…but it was a voice they hadn’t heard in five years other than in their dreams. A voice they would never forget. 

Both of them stopped dead. Steve’s mouth dropped open and he looked at Katie, raising a shaking hand to his head in an attempt to press the coms piece further into his ear, not quite sure he was believing what he was hearing.

“Cap, it’s Sam. Can you hear me?”

Both Katie and Steve’s chests rose and fell deeply as they tried to understand where Sam was. They knew Banner’s snap had worked, but surely if everyone came back where they had vanished then they should be in Wakanda. Nevertheless, Steve instinctively glanced upwards, and Sam spoke again.

“On your left.”

They both turned in that direction, and immediately saw a sparkling yellow circle forming in the air. As they watched, utterly dumbfounded, three figures stepped through and Katie realised from their Silhouettes alone who it was- Okoye, Shuri, and T’Challa in his full Black Panther garb. Katie’s hand flew to her mouth as T'Challa’s mask faded away, the King looking at Steve. The Soldier took a shaky and relieved breath and a thankful smile broke through the filth and grime that covered his face. T'Challa gave him a small nod, before he turned to Katie and bowed slightly, the way he always did.

Katie’s breathing suddenly became erratic as her sobs began again, but this time they were punctuated by laughs and stutters of utter relief which turned into a yell of pure joy when Sam zoomed in above them in his Falcon armour. They watched as he flew and circled back round, Katie’s hands flying into the back of her hair, gripping as she doubled over and cried, simply unable to believe it. 

Steve could do nothing but watch in a relieved, thankful and astounded awe as dozens and dozens more portals opened up all around the battlefield. He knew who the man that descended at the front was- Doctor Strange and he was joined by three people he also knew to be Rocket’s friends- The Guardians of the Galaxy- then came Spider-Man, his mask flopping down to reveal an alive and well Peter Parker behind it. Katie tore her eyes away to look for Tony who was now sitting up, a look of utter shock on his face. He found her eyes and gave a small twitch of his mouth as he scrambled to his feet, and turned to Thor who was now grinning ear to ear as he watched the portal that was bringing Valkyrie and the Asgardian army to their aid.

The chanting of the Wakandan Army rang around the battle field as row by row the guard stepped through another portal headed by Bucky, his gun held firmly in his arms and Steve watched his best friend’s handsome face which wore a look of resigned determination, and the number of people arriving to support the Avengers continued to rise as Dr Strange conjured portal after portal.

A familiar red energy alerted them both to Wanda’s appearance, where she landed not far from Bucky, her eyes blazing. And then, with a clang Pepper landed a few feet away from Katie clad in her own Iron Suit and Tony joined them, shooting his wife a proud look.

Finally there was a loud roaring, crashing noise and Katie and Steve spun to see Scott Lang as the Giant-Ant Man emerging from the rubble with Banner, Rhodey, Rocket and Clint. 

The group of thousands behind Katie and Steve up their fighting stances, brandishing whatever weapons or powers they had, battle cries loud and Steve looked around, almost bursting into tears himself at the emotions flooding his chest. He glanced at his wife who looked back, wiping her eyes, her breathing still deep as she couldn’t quite believe how all these people had come to help. Steve didn’t either, but all he knew was they had. And now they were almost if not completely equal on numbers. And they had hope once more.

In fact, they had more than hope. They had a chance. And that was good enough for the Captain. He’d beaten worse odds before, and he was damned sure they could do it again, especially when he turned to look at Thanos and saw for the first time something that looked like fear, apprehension even on the Titan’s face.

He turned to face Katie again as she gave him a nod.

“Call it, Captain.” Her voice was full of determination as her face plate slid back into place.

So, call it he did.

“AVENGERS!” Steve’s cry echoed across the battle field as he held out his hand, summoning Mjolnir to his palm. Thor landed by his side just as the hammer slapped into Steve’s glove and he glared up at Thanos, his teeth grit with utter determination. “Assemble.”

Behind him, Thor gave a loud battle cry as did Black Panther and the Avengers’ army began to charge. Katie, Tony and Pepper flying in formation with Sam as they sped forward. Almost instantly, the two sides collided violently, and the fighting began. Bullets, beams, punches, kicks, knives, spears all flying and smashing against one another. The air was filled with yells, grunts and the clanging of metal against metal as the battle raged on.

****

Thor and Steve found themselves fighting off a large group of the dog like creatures and somehow Steve ended up holding Stormbreaker. Not for long, because that belonged to Thor. His Thanos killing axe. No way was the God of Thunder letting the Captain wield that. 

“No no, give me that! Thor held out his hand, tossing Steve Mjolnir. "You can have the little one.”

Steve took it and shot off across the ground towards another group of Outriders. Above him, Katie, Tony and Pepper were circling back to back, their booster beams shooting at anything and everything, spiralling into groups below, helping anyone they could. Katie spotted that Clint was swamped a little so she flew down, freeing him before she shot into the air and found herself flying alongside Sam.

“Mrs R.” He turned to face her and she gave him a nod, smiling broadly although she knew he wouldn’t see her.

“Good to see you Sammy!”

“You know me, never one to miss a good fire fight!” He smirked, shooting his semi-autos at something that was flying into the air in front of him.

Tony shot down, barrelling into a group of Chitauri warriors, just like he had in New York. With a whoop he scattered them like bowling pins, landing and shooting off guns and beams, before something hit him hard on the side of the head and sent him soaring through the air. He landed, and pushed himself up on his elbows ready to fight but before he needed to, Lang’s giant Ant-Man crushed his assailant, striding away.

And then, the kid was there. Parker was running straight to Tony. In the suit Tony had made for him. The Billionaire blinked, retracting his helmet as Pete’s usual, incessant and enthusiastic rambles filled his ear.

“Hey! Holy cow! You will not believe what’s been going on. Do you remember when we were in space? And I got all dusty? I must’ve passed out ‘cause I woke up, and you were gone. But Doctor Strange was there, right? He was like, ‘It’s been five years. Come on, they need us.’ And then he started doing the yellow sparkly thing that he does all the time..” he started using two fingers to demonstrate Strange’s swirl in the air but Tony stopped him, the emotions of seeing the kid alive again were swirling in his chest, and with watery eyes he stepped forward and pulled the kid into a hug.

“What are you doing?” Peter asked, shocked at his mentor’s display of affection before he hugged Tony back. “This is nice.”

The fight raged on and on and on. But no one gave up, they knew they had no option but to win this, for the sake of everything and everyone on the planet, and none more than Steve, who was fighting with every goddamned bit of strength he had to get back to his kids and his wife.

Across the field he could just about make out Clint, who was sprinting like his life depended on it. Which, in fairness, it did. The gauntlet was clutched to his chest and he spoke into his coms, asking his leader for instructions.

“Cap, what do you want me to do with this damn thing?”

“Get those stones as far away as possible!” Steve instructed, punching another creature in the head.

“No!” Banner yelled back “We need to get them back where they came from.”

“No way to get them back.” Tony sighed. “Thanos destroyed the quantum tunnel”

“Hold on…” Lang spoke, and Steve saw the 100 foot or so man shrink out of the air. “That wasn’t our only time machine!”

The sound of Scott’s van horn, rang out across the battle ground and Steve immediately ran up a pile of rubble to higher ground, trying to spot the van, following the noise.  

“Anyone see an ugly, brown van up there?” Steve asked, looking up.

Katie shot above him and he watched her as she circled over the fighting armies before she stopped, hovering and pointing down underneath her

“Yes!” She yelled victoriously, as Valkyrie flew alongside her on her winged horse, shooting her a look.

“You’re not going to like where it’s parked!” The Asgardian finished, pointing her spear to it.

Tony flew up into the air shooting another Chitauri warrior off his, well, whatever the hell you called those flying scooter things, before he glanced down at Lang.

“Scott, how long you need to get that thing working?”

“Maybe ten minutes”. 

“Get it started.” Rogers instructed. “We’ll get the stones to you.”

And then as Tony watched, ready to cover Lang as he broke for it, a woman materialised next to him. Nothing should surprise Tony anymore, nothing, but it did. And he had absolutely no idea why.

“We’re on it, Cap.” She spoke softly, before the pair of them shrunk again and FRIDAY kept a lock on them as they flew away, no bigger than ants.

Okay, so maybe Lang didn’t need covering after all. Tony watched them via FRIDAY’s scanners as they flew towards the van, and he saw Katie and Pepper fighting in tandem, the pair of them bringing down a huge Chituari beast that looked like a gorilla. He grinned at the sight of his wife and sister kicking ass, and then spotted Strange in the corner of his eye, trapping a load of Chitauri in his magic, sending them through portals to fuck knows where, not that Tony gave a shit.

Recalling the conversation he had held on Titan with the Wizard, he suddenly felt a desperation to know, so he landed, turning to look at him.

“Hey. You said one out of fourteen million, we win, yeah?” He asked, glancing around. “Tell me this is it.” 

“If I tell you what happens, it won’t happen” Strange replied, and Tony groaned. Jesus this man was infuriating. 

“You better be right.” Tony shot back, pointing an iron clad finger at him.

As Scott was hot-wiring his van, because of course it was dead, the fight continued and the gauntlet was in some kind of relay across the battle field towards them. T’Challa took it off Clint and as Thanos advanced on the Black Panther, Wanda landed in front of him, her eyes blazing. She then began to fight Thanos furiously, and she seemed to be getting the upper hand as bits of his armour began to peel off him as rose in the air, surrounded by her red power as she attempted to tear him apart. 

In desperation, Thanos gave the instruction for his ships to fire down on the battle field, not caring whether he put his own army in danger as collateral. As the missiles began to hit the ground, everyone tried to dodge as best they could. Strange and the rest of his troops held up their arms conjuring magic shields to attempt to keep their allies as sheltered as possible.

Steve was too engrossed in the fight around him to pay too much attention to where everyone else was, but he heard his wife loud and clear, his ears tuned into her as they always where.

“Where are the stones?” Katie she asked frantically, and Steve had to admit, he’d kinda like to know as well. It was then that he heard Peter Parker yelling, and realised he had the gauntlet.

“I got this…” there was a scuffle "Ok, I don’t got this. Help! Somebody! Help!”

“Hey Queens,” Steve said, winding his arm back, “heads up!” He took a couple steps forward flung Mjolnir towards him. Peter shot his web at it, where it latched on and he was catapulted him through the air where Katie caught him.  

“Hang on, I got you, kid!” She assured him as they flew through the air and she tossed him to Valkyrie as she flew past, Parker’s yells ringing in her years. But, as Katie watched, the Asgardian’s horse was hit by the fire from Thanos’ ship and Peter was blasted to the floor.

“Tony, have you any idea how we can shut that thing down?” Katie asked desperately, looking at the ship. “We need that damned thing out of order to stand any chance!”

“I’m working-“ Tony began, but he trailed off as the cannons stopped, lifting upwards before they began to fire into the sky.

“What the hell is this?” Sam asked, as he flew alongside Katie, as the two of them fired at a couple more Chitauri in front of them.

“FRIDAY, what are they firing at?” Tony asked, his voice slightly worried.

“Something just entered the upper atmosphere,” FRIDAY replied.

Then a huge, bright ball of pulsating energy came surging down straight through the ship, where it then turned, and shot straight back up through it again, destroying the engines.

It was Danvers.

Katie’s mouth dropped open as the woman hovered above the now fast descending ship as it crash-landed in the river.

“Now that’s how to make an entrance,” Katie glanced at her brother where he was hovering not far away from her. He turned to look at her, and even though she couldn’t see his face she knew he was rolling his eyes.

“I used to make a perfectly good entrance, thank you Kiddo.”

"Danvers,” Steve glanced up, hardly able to keep the smile of his face, even though he knew this was far from over. But Thanos was worried now, he could see from the Titan’s body language, and that was enough of a boost for the Super Soldier to sweep straight back into Captain mode as for the first time since the battle began, he felt that they could actually win. “We could use an assist here…”

“What on?” Carol asked, flying towards Katie.

“We need to get the stones to the brown van…” Katie circled, and then she spotted Peter who was crouched in a crater, the gauntlet tight within his arms. She landed, her helmet sliding away and Carol gently dropped besides her and looked down at Peter.

“Hi. I’m Peter Parker,” he said, looking up at Carol, his breathing deep and his nose blooded.

Carol smirked, almost flirtatiously. “Hey Peter Parker. Got something for me?”

Peter pushed himself up and handed her the gauntlet, before he looked at the Army who was crawling towards them. “I don’t know how you’re gonna get it through all that.”

Wanda then landed next to Katie and glanced around, her red power surrounding her. “Don’t worry.” The Sokovian woman said as Valkyrie landed on her winged horse 

“She’s got help” Okoye stepped up alongside them all as she looked around. 

“Where’s Nat?” Wanda asked as Pepper landed next to Okoye. Katie hung her head slightly as she looked at her, as more and more of the women from the battle joined them- Mantis, then Shuri  Hope, Gamora and Nebula.

“She didn’t make it back from the mission to get the stones.” Katie said gently, swallowing as she shook her head.

Beside her, Okoye spun her spear in her hands, her face stoney as she eyed up the army which was advancing on them. “Then this…this is for her…” The Wakandan woman turned to Katie who nodded.

They began to stride forward and Thanos’ army charged a swarm of aliens, Chitauri and animals alike. Okoye took out the larger fighter that Katie recognised from the train station in Edinburgh as Wanda, her, Pepper and Valkyrie destroyed two leviathans. Carol Danvers shot straight towards the van with the Gauntlet, at a rate of knots, going through every blockade that was in her way with ease.

However, Thanos was hot on her tail.  

“She needs cover!” Katie yelled as she flew down, followed by Pepper as Shuri and Hope also stood tall, the four of them unloading their various weapons and succeeding in blasting Thanos backwards. Danvers sped past him, but through the heat and flash of various beams and weapons, no one spotted him launching the remaining half of his sword towards the van until it was too late. 

Steve felt the explosion and looked up at the huge flash of light, seeing Danvers being catapulted back through the air, her grip on the gauntlet lost and it fell to the ground. Then, it was almost like time slowed down as Thanos paused, looking at the Gauntlet, at the same time as Tony sat up and did the same. As Steve sprinted towards the pair of them Tony went to tackle him from behind only to be batted away to the side somewhere. Steve continued to sprint, he was almost there, almost, and then Thor landed swinging his lightning covered axe at the Titan before his hammer flew into his hand and he used both weapons to hold Thanos at bay.

Steve threw himself on Thanos’ back grabbing at the axe, pulling with all his might in an attempt to slice it straight through his neck. But it was to no avail. With a mighty head-butt Thanos sent Thor sprawling backwards and he reached up and pulled Steve off him, flinging him through the air like a rag doll. He landed hard, his head colliding with something, and he was out cold.

“Steve!” Katie saw him sprawled on the floor, and was about to go after him, but she saw Thanos reaching for the gauntlet. Surging her suit forwards she shot at him, desperation flooding her system, and she kept her beam going as she flew down. Her fingers grazed the gauntlet before a harsh kick to her head sent her flipping back and through the air with no control over her flight plan. She landed heavily, groaning as she felt blood trickle down her temple, zoning in and out, the sounds of the battle muting slightly as she lay on her back, her helmet flying open as she took deep gulps of air, blinking as the stars swam in front of her eyes. 

****

Tony, meanwhile, had come to. He sat up, and saw that Thanos and Danvers were locked in combat, Danvers’ hands were both wrapped round Thanos’ left and Tony could see that he now had the gauntlet. He grimaced as Thanos went to head but the woman, but nothing. It simply bounced off the energy surrounding her, a shocked and almost frightened expression crossing Thanos’ face.

At that, Tony felt a glimmer of hope, maybe she was their secret weapon. The one in fourteen million, six-hundred and five that meant they were gonna win. As he watched she surged upwards, forcing Thanos to his knees but the Titan pulled the Power Stone out of the gauntlet and clutching it in his right hand he hit Danvers hard and she flew through the air, landing harshly.

With pure desperation, Tony turned to look at Strange who was watching him. The magician simply raised one finger, which was trembling slightly. Trembling, Tony assumed, because the one win he foresaw was now at risk. But as he looked at the man, Strange’s eyes filled with sadness and Tony realised that it wasn’t Carol he saw winning the battle after all.

It was him. 

Tony now understood completely. And he knew what he had to do.

***** With a heavy moan, Katie sat up, just in time to see Tony grappling with Thanos. With an angry cry she fired her suit up again and shot forwards, but as she did, Thanos cast aside her brother easily. She bore down on him, shooting her beams, using her boosters, a loud yell escaping her mouth as once more she powered everything she had into her firepower. FRIDAY yelled a warning as one of the Chitauri Leviathons came straight for her and she just managed to dodge it by flying sharply to the right, but was caught heavily by one of its fins and for the second time in as many minutes she was spiralling though the air with no control. The heads up display in her helmet flickered slightly and there was ringing in her ears mingled with FRIDAY’s desperate calls. The ground was rising fast to meet her but just in time she managed fire up her thrusters and right herself in the air. Spinning round she saw Tony knelt up, his helmet retracted as he stared at the Titan, who was leering down over him with a twisted grin on his face.

“I am inevitable.” It was the second time Katie had heard him say that, only this time, he rose his hand which bore the gauntlet.

Katie’s desperate scream echoed around her helmet, and before she could so much as move, the Titan snapped. But instead of the beams of light and the shaking of the ground that had happened when Bruce did it, there was nothing.

Katie’s face plate slid back, because the thought the displays were damaged, but her eyes widened as Thanos glanced down at his gauntlet. She realised at the same time he did that the stones were missing. And then, as if in slow motion, the pieces started to slot into place, both figuratively and mentally.

Tony knelt tall, the stones twirling round his hand. Lights circled his forearm and bicep and he let out a loud yell, the utter pain and power consuming him. It burned into every cell on his body and it took everything he had inside him to keep himself upright. This was it the end that he always knew he was going to meet. And strangely, he wasn’t scared. Not for him anyway, this was his destiny, the only way it would ever end.

“We’re in the Endgame now.”

Morgan’s face flashed across Tony’s mind, then Pepper’s, then his sister’s as his head fell back, the power surging up his arm and shoulder. Pulling his head up with an almighty wrench, his eyes locked on those belonging to Thanos and he could feel the stones vibrating on his gauntlet, humming, almost like they knew what was coming.

Maybe they did, because, from the look on Thanos’ face, he sure did.

Well, eat shit, you fucker!

Tony took a deep breath, before he spoke with the most conviction he could ever remember having, raising his fingers.

“And I…am…Iron Man.”

 For a split second, Tony’s eyes flickered to his sister, who was watching the entire event unfold, paralysed in mid-air behind Thanos, her helmet retracted and mouth open in a silent scream. He gave her a soft smile as he concentrated hard on what he wanted to happen.

And then, he snapped his fingers.

The power surge made Tony collapse forward, his skin was burning and his throat felt like it was being closed off, and there was nothing but silence in his ears. He pushed himself to his feet, hand clutched to the arc reactor in his chest as he tried to speak into his coms, but the words wouldn’t come. Staggering a few feet, he stumbled to a large upturned piece of concrete laced with rebar before he fell down against it, hard.

****

Steve, who had just got to his feet was aware of a bright flash of light and the vibrating of the ground underneath him and knew instantly that someone had snapped. He spun round in desperate hope it wasn’t Thanos, and then, as he saw one of the dog-like bearing down on him he braced himself, aiming a hard punch to its head. But he connected with nothing. He paused, his eyes widening, mouth falling open in shock as he watched Thanos’ army turn to dust all around the field and he realised that they’d won. It wasn’t Thanos who had snapped, it was one of them. With a relieved sigh, he wheeled around expecting to see Thor or Banner with the gauntlet, his mouth suddenly going dry as he realised the effect it had on Banner the last time but they were nowhere to be found.

And that was when he spotted his wife, deactivating her suit as she ran, scrambling over piles of concrete and stones to get to someone.

****

Tony’s breathing was laboured and his eyes were fully wide when Katie finally reached him, grabbing his gauntlet clad hand.

“Tony, come on, look at me!” Her brother was dying, she realised that. But they’d won. And, as she looked at him, she knew he understood that too. Morgan, Pepper, Kiddo, Jamie, Emmy, Steve, their family were all safe. The world was safe. Tony tried to speak, and she knew he was trying to tell her it was okay, that he accepted what was happening, but his voice was merely a whisper.

“I…”

“Shhh, save your strength.” Katie gently placed her hand on the side of his head, down the cheek which wasn’t badly burnt and she was aware that someone had landed next to her. Rhodey dropped to his knee gently, his hand falling to Tony’s shoulder as he looked at his friend.

“Mr Stark?” Peter Parker landed between her and Rhodey. Katie turned her attention back to her brother as his head collapsed against the concrete, her vision blurring with tears as the kid continued to speak. “Hey Mr Stark, can you hear me? It’s Peter.” Tony’s face turned to the young man, a flash of recognition on his face as he tried to smile. “We won, Mr Stark” Peter took a shuddering breath. “We won, you did it Sir, we did it. I’m sorry, don’t….” He began to cry as Tony’s head lolled to the side and then Katie was aware of someone else behind them, gently pulling Peter up and away. Pepper crouched next to her right, gently squeezing Katie’s arm before she touched Tony on his shoulder, placing her other hand over the arc reactor on his chest.

“Hey,” She smiled said softly.

“Pep…” Tony managed to whisper as his hand fell on top of hers and Katie placed her own over his.

“FRIDAY?” Pepper spoke with a thick swallow, even though Katie knew there was no need to ask the AI. The stones had almost killed Thanos and Banner. Tony stood no chance. There was no way back.

“Life functions are critical,” the AI spoke and Katie bowed her head, her tears falling to the ground.

“Tony,” Pepper said softly, and Katie looked back at her brother, who was smiling up at his wife. Pepper gently smiled back, as he turned his head to his sister and she tried her hardest to keep it together.

“The stars,” he mumbled out, and Katie nodded choking back a sob as she gripped his hand tighter, finishing the saying for him.

“And back.” He voice was choked with tears and she reached up, wiping her face furiously.

Tony gave her a soft smile, as he turned back to Pepper who gently ran her hand up his arm. “We’re gonna be okay” she said, her voice soft as she glanced at Katie

“We all are.” Katie assured him, sniffing slightly.

His head lolled back once more and Pepper spoke gently, this time her voice cracked. “You can rest now.” Her hand brushed his hair back from his temple as he lay so still. For a second, Tony’s eyes glanced over Katie’s and she followed his eye-line to see Steve stood, stock still his face crumpled in sorrow. For a moment the two men locked eyes, Tony once more giving the faintest of smiles before his body slumped back against the surface behind him.  Pepper bowed her head as Katie glanced down at her hand, still over the top of Tony’s as the light went out in his chest.

He was gone.

Katie let out a soft sob as she removed her hand gently taking Tony’s with her. Kneeling up, she pressed her forehead against his, scrunching her face up against the physical pain that was brewing in her chest. Pepper leaned up to kiss his face as a silence fell around them, not one single sound coming from the battle field. Pepper dropped her head to Tony’s shoulder and then she too began to cry. Katie placed a soft kiss to her brother’s cheek, his skin still warm and then bowed her head, listening to Pepper’s sobs through the silence of her own.

Steve limped forward, dropping heavily to his knees besides his wife. “Katie…” He spoke softly as she turned to face him, his eyes were red and the dirt on the parts of his face visible under his helmet were interlined with the tracks his own tears had made. The two looked at each other for a second, before Katie’s face crumpled and Steve wrapped his arms around her as she buried her face into his chest, her small body shaking with silent sobs, hands fisting around the Kevlar of his uniform. Steve lay his cheek against her head, his own tears pouring down his face as he held her to him. His eyes scanned the immediate vicinity of the battle field and he saw Clint in the near distance, dropping to his knee, his head bowed, hand resting on his fist. In front of him T’challa did the same, then Carol, and then Bucky. Everyone around took the knee out of respect to their fallen warrior.  

It was Thor that broke the silence, but not by speaking. There was a huge rumble of thunder and Katie jumped, pulling back from Steve slightly, looking upwards as lighting flashed in the sky. The clouds that had descended with Thanos’ ship began to part slowly, a chink of the red sunset falling onto where Tony was sat, shards of light bouncing off his Iron Man suit.

Katie turned away from Steve and gently reached out with a shaking hand to close Tony’s eyes

“There, he could be sleeping.” She sniffed softly, her hand falling to Pepper’s shoulder. Pepper reached up and gripped it, almost painfully as she turned to her sister-in-law, her face streaming with tears. There was a moment’s pause before Katie wrapped her arms around her, gently stroking her hair.

“We should, we should move him.” Rhodey’s voice cracked. Taking a deep breath,  Steve pulled himself to his feet with a groan and he looked around.

“Has any of the compound survived?” He asked softly, wiping his face as Sam approached him.

“The Hangar area and the labs are totally gone, Cap.” Sam shook his ehad gently and Steve looked at him properly for the first time in five years “But some of the living quarters and part of the training facility seems to be okay.”

“Can we check it’s safe to house people?” Steve did what he did best, compartmentalised his feelings, parking for the time being as he shifted back into Captain mode. “We need to set up somewhere to treat the wounded.”

Sam nodded.

“I’ll come with you.” Rhodey offered before he looked at Steve. “I’ll get onto the Emergency Services and Ross too.” With that, Rhodey took off straight away whereas Sam remained where he was, his eyes fixed on Steve who gave him a weary smile.

“It’s good to see you, Sam.”

“Well like I said, when Captain America needs your help.”

There was a pause, before the two men hugged, clapping one another on the back.  Stepping back,  with a nod, Sam launched back into the air.

“I leave you for what, five minutes and you start another war?”

Steve spun round to see Bucky, watching him, a slight smile on his face.  For a moment, Steve stood still, just observing his friend before he rushed forward into a manly embrace, choking up once more.

“Jerk.” Steve gave a watery laugh as he stepped back, shaking his head.

“Punk.” Bucky retorted gently, before he looked down at Katie who was still knelt by her brother, her arm round Pepper. He gave a sigh and dropped his head.

“Sorry.” Bucky offered to Steve, not sure what else he could say.

Steve nodded, wiping his face as he glanced around, the Captain and the Sergeant both surveying the survivors. Banner was stood with Clint and TChalla, the three of them talking with their heads bowed. Clint reached out and patted Banner on the arm as the green man began walking towards where Steve was stood.

“Some of the living quarters are secure.” Rhodey spoke in Steve’s ear and he nodded.

“Okay, let’s set up some form of command centre, a triage maybe if we need it.” He took a deep breath and turned back to Katie as he dropped to his knee again, a little gentler than last time and he touched her shoulder.  

“Honey,” he spoke softly, wiping away the blood from her temple, “we can move Tony now, take him inside. That is if you’re ready.”

She turned to him, taking a deep breath she nodded. “Pep?”

Pepper gave a sniff and nodded as well.

“I’ll take him.” Banner spoke solemnly as he stepped forward. Katie watched as he picked up Tony’s limp body as easily as if it was a rag doll and set off walking through the rubble.

“I don’t want him to be alone.” Pepper spoke, looking at Katie, before she stood up and walked after Bruce.

Katie took a deep breath. She didn’t want to leave her brother either but she knew there was nothing more to be done for him, he was gone, and there were other people that needed their help. She turned to face Steve who was still knelt next to her. He reached out to gently cup her cheek with his hand, and it was then she noticed the bone-deep almost foot long gash down his forearm.

“Your arm.” She took his wrist in her hand and gently flipping it so she could look at it. “I’ll be fine.” He brushed off her concern.

Knowing better than to try and argue with him, she looked around and asked with a shaky voice. “Did anyone else…” “No.” Steve shook his head, instantly understanding. “There’s a few injuries but, everyone’s fine.” “Except Tony.” Katie’s breath caught in her thoat as the tears once more flooded from her eyes.  

“I’m so sorry sweetheart.” Steve’s voice cracked as he wrapped his arms round her and cradled her close, the pair of them lost in their grief for their fallen brother. *****

The night began to draw in.

Thanks to Rhodey, the Emergency services had swamped the area to begin a full clean up and treatment of the walking wounded. And there were so many people to greet, so many to thank, so fucking many. Once it was clear they were no longer needed, Strange transported everyone who needed to go back away, shaking Steve’s hand and informing Katie how sorry he was that there had been no other way to defeat Thanos.

But she wasn’t listening, Steve could see she’d gone into auto-pilot. And when she eventually told Steve she needed a break, he gave her cheek a soft kiss and watched her as she walked slowly into the compound, knowing full well that her breakdown would come later.

He continued to liaise with the military, speaking to Colonels, Captains, Commanders alike, but eventually he found himself alone, walking over the destroyed grounds, with absolutely no clue how he’d gotten there or how long he’d been there. All he knew was that it was dark, and quiet.

With a sigh and a glance down at his bandaged arm, Steve’s attention was caught by something shining in the beams of the searchlights that had been erected around the compound. As he looked harder, he noticed that it was a piece of his shield. Bending down, his fingers swept the dust and debris off the large piece of red, white and blue Vibranium. Picking it up, he swallowed slightly, remembering the horror and surprise he had felt as Thanos had hacked through it, as if it had been made of nothing but aluminium.

“So you met Danvers?” A familiar voice cut through his thoughts, shattering his peace.

Steve looked over his shoulder to see Fury stood behind him. He stood up and gave the man an exasperated look. “You were holding out on us.”

“In a fashion” Fury shrugged. “Code red only.”

Steve gave a snort, not in the least bit surprised.

“He’s a spy. Captain, he’s THE spy.” Tony said, gesticulating with his arms to make a point “His secrets have secrets.”

Steve looked down at the fractured piece of his shield which was held in his hand, before he glanced out over the now destroyed compound where the battle had been raging mere hours before and he shook his head.

“You know, all this, bringing everyone back,” he sighed heavily, “the victory kinda feels pyrrhic with losing Nat and Tony.”

“They both made their choices.” Fury sighed, softly. Both gave their lives for a cause they believed in.”

“Tony didn’t even want to do this, you know.” Steve shook his head. “He said no at first but I talked him into it.” “Since when did a Stark every do anything they didn’t wanna?” Fury turned to face Steve straight on. “He made a choice. As did Agent Romanoff. And you need to allow them the both the dignity of their choices by not blaming yourself. They clearly thought it was worth it.” With those words the Captain was catapulted way back in time to a conversation in a blown out London bar.

“You did everything you could. Did you believe in your friend? Did you respect him?” Peggy asked and Steve looked at her, incredulously. Of course he did. She nodded and continued “Then stop blaming yourself. Allow Barnes the dignity of his choice. He damn well must have thought you were worth it.”

“What?” Fury asked as Steve shook his head, a sad smile on his face.

“Nothing. You just reminded me of someone.” “I won’t ask.” Fury shrugged before he changed the subject. “I hear you and Nova have been busy these past five years. Couple of kids, huh?” Steve smiled as he looked at Fury, the thought of his children temporarily stemming the hollow feeling in his chest at the loss of his brother-in-law and friend. “Yeah.”

“Then you should go home. Be with them.”

“Is that an order?” Steve arched an eyebrow looking at him.

“You don’t work for you me anymore, you haven’t done for a long time, in fact I’m not sure you ever really did,” Fury smirked a little, “and I don’t think you never will again.”

He gave Steve a significant look, one which Steve instantly understood. This was Fury’s way of relieving him from his leadership of the Avengers.  It was symbolic more than anything because Steve didn’t need releasing from service at all. But this was closure. It was Fury’s promise to Steve that he would never be called upon to fight again if that was what he chose.

And he did choose. He was ready to quit. His fight was done. He had other priorities now, and everything they’d been through over the past few months had shown him that. Tony and Nat had both sacrificed their lives, so that he would keep his, and he wasn’t going to dishonour their memory by putting his family at risk ever again.

Steve looked down at his feet, before he glanced up at Fury, and held his hand out. “It’s been an honour,” he said, as Fury shook his hand, “but you’re right. It’s time for me to hang up my shield, for good this time.” He looked down at the broken metal in his hand, “well, what’s left of it.”

“Or you could pass it down.” Fury suggested as Steve looked back at him, snorting.

“I think Jamie is a bit too young, and Katie would murder me if I even-”

“I don’t mean to your son.” Fury cut Steve off, shaking his ehad. “But Captain America has been a symbol of hope for years. And that’s something the world is always gonna need Cap, regardless of who it is. So think about it, maybe there’s someone else worthy of that title and shield, broken or not.”

Steve watched, pondering his words, as Fury gave him a final nod, and turned back towards the destroyed buildings

****

Chapter 58

[thosch3i]

The finale of Ultimate Note airs 12/9 (tonight in China) for VIP. Thank you to this drama for bringing me my favorite Iron Triangle ❤ Longer discussion of why I love it so much, and why I strongly recommend it to book fans (especially those upset with certain previous adaptations) below the cut, apologies if it’s not fully coherent at times because I haven’t slept enough and also it’s almost 1am. But your TLDR is basically: characterization, plot, pacing, relationships are the best of any DMBJ drama. Iron Triangle especially.

First, the pacing of this show is excellent. Pretty much all cdramas I’ve seen or heard of have been inundated with filler, and the previous DMBJ dramas fall victim to this as well. Ultimate Note took 36 episodes to cover 4 book arcs, whereas previous adaptations have taken more episodes to cover far fewer. There’s really not any content you’d be wanting to skip, as almost all of it is plot-relevant or character-relevant.

Second, the plot is the most cohesive out of any DMBJ adaptation. Frankly, this isn’t saying too much, given the novel plot can also be confusing as all hell sometimes, but Ultimate Note goes above and beyond in pulling in information from later books and, if I heard correctly, common fan theories, doing their best to fill in the plot holes left by the author to create a more complete story.

Third, the female characters are actually done well. (As well as they can be, given the source material’s unfortunate habit of fridging its women.) For example, A-Ning’s decision to go the Tamutuo wasn’t because she was ~in love~ with some man. She is a determined individual who has made her choice about her path a long time ago, and she is willing to risk death to achieve her goals. Even her death was done about as well as it could have been--it wasn’t drawn out to the point of it being sickeningly cheesy, and Wu Xie tried his best to honor her goals and bring her to the Palace of the Queen Mother of the West (even emphasizing to Pangzi, “if you died, I would carry you too”). In addition, Chen Wenjin wasn’t stuck in some ridiculous love triangle. She loved Wu Sanxing, of course, but her loving a man isn’t made out to be her entire personality. Her goodbye to Xie Lianhuan is poignant but not mushy. She’s steady and sure in her goals, and she knows what she has to do in order to save herself. Yuncai’s character, as well, I think was handled about as well as it could’ve been given the source material. Her relationship with Pangzi wasn’t overexaggerated and nauseating, and I think their relationship was more tolerable in the drama than it was in the novel overall. (In addition, I prefer how they handled her death in the drama versus the novel--instead of just killing her offscreen, they give her a redemption, and show how she’d grown attached to her new friends, Pangzi especially, resulting in her hesitation to deal the final blow.)

Related to the above point: no added forced romances that destroyed the female characters’ personalities and reduced them to just love interests for men, thank god. Pangzi and Yuncai’s relationship was already there in the novel, but nothing about their relationship was distorted in the drama to the point of being annoying, and Yuncai is shown to have her own goals for cozying up to Pangzi (at first, at least). If you want to get technical about “added romances”, you could honestly argue that it’s Pingxie. (And Hei///hua, but I’ll be honest and say they’re not my cup of tea, so I won’t really be discussing them. However, I do think their characters, while also exaggerated for humor at points, were also done well, and their relationship--while AFAIK was not a really a thing in the books at all?--was written in a way that the development made sense, and their personalities compatible.)

But anyway, while Ultimate Note does make Pingxie seem closer to each other than they were in the novel, we do have to remember that the novel is from Wu Xie’s point of view, and he’s a little bit of a blockhead when it comes to noticing how much Xiaoge cares about him. (IIRC, he wonders if Xiaoge even considers him a friend in Zang Hai Hua...after Xiaoge’s literally called him his “only connection” to this world in book 8.) However, from an outsider POV, it’d be natural for us to see Xiaoge worrying more over Wu Xie. Because from Wu Xie’s perspective, what did he actually see? Xiaoge dropping in to save him a few times and often vanishing or turning away right after, leaving Wu Xie with mixed feelings and confusion about his value to Xiaoge. Xiaoge being aloof before they set off to Tamutuo, claiming that he is a person with no past and future, and that no one would remember him if he disappeared. (Xiaoge smiles before telling Wu Xie that he’s on Wu Xie’s side--that’s a smile that the viewers see, but that Wu Xie doesn’t.) Most of Xiaoge’s visible worry for Wu Xie in the desert was also when Wu Xie himself was not there to see it. During the scene where the fungus was growing in Wu Xie’s stomach, he was entirely out of it while Xiaoge visibly panicked about hurting him, and after the fungus was dealt with, Xiaoge only stood off to the side--only to smile faintly to himself, relieved, after Wu Xie wakes up. (Again a smile that the viewers see, but that Wu Xie doesn’t.) But because from an outsider POV we can see all this, while Wu Xie remains partly ignorant, lines like “thankfully, I didn’t bring death upon you” and Xiaoge calling Wu Xie is only connection to the world seem that much more logical, now that we can see some of the depth and development of how much Xiaoge does care about Wu Xie.

That brings me to the primary reason why I love Ultimate Note, because the main selling point for me on any franchise is not actually world-building or plot, but rather the characters and the relationships between those characters. And for DMBJ, the relationship I’m always looking for--and the relationship that the entire franchise ultimately centers around--is the Iron Triangle. And the mutual trust and the strength of the bond between this Iron Triangle is unmistakable; no one is treated as expendable.

As much as we have joked about Xiaoge's double standards with Wu Xie versus Pangzi, the end of the Banai arc especially and the last five episodes have cemented the importance of Xiaoge and Pangzi's friendship. Their relationship is often the weakest leg of the Iron Triangle in DMBJ adaptations, but Ultimate Note has nailed it. Pangzi helps carry Xiaoge out of Tamutuo, and Pangzi's the one who primarily takes care of Xiaoge after he loses his memories. There's also Xiaoge's clear worry over Pangzi after Yuncai's death, and his assurance that Pangzi won't die as long as he is here in the later episodes when the two of them are separated from Wu Xie--showing that the Iron Triangle is a triangle; Wu Xie isn't the single connection that Xiaoge and Pangzi's relationship hinges upon.

Pangzi and Wu Xie's friendship doesn't need much explaining: the two of them bicker like they're brothers, and they could probably star in their own buddy-cop comedy together. Both Pangzi and Xiaoge are shown to be clearly worried for Wu Xie after the Xie Lianhuan reveal, and even though neither of them quite know how to handle it, they are there for Wu Xie. And of course, there's the scene where Pangzi pours out the water while they're waiting for Xiaoge to leave the meteorite. Wu Xie cries for Pangzi when they're in the Miluotuo cave and he chooses to carry out Xiaoge first, and once again, his worry for Pangzi after Yuncai's death is palpable. Even when Wu Xie has to leave Pangzi in Banai, he instructs Xiaoge to look after him (not that Xiaoge really needed the instruction, anyway--that’s his best friend, too).

Wu Xie and Xiaoge's relationship needs even less explaining: anyone who's watched the show can attest to how much they care about each other. From Wu Xie's frantic scrambling to grab the tapes upon hearing they were from "Zhang Qiling" and Xiaoge's introduction in the show being him stopping outside Wushanju to stare up (longingly?) at the sign, we see their relationship unfold in all of its quiet pining and lingering looks. When Xiaoge claims no one would know if he disappeared from this world, Wu Xie doesn't hesitate in promising that he, at least, will. Xiaoge smiles before telling Wu Xie that he's on his side, and Wu Xie vows to walk with Xiaoge until the very end. During the entire Tamutuo trip, Xiaoge is visibly worried for Wu Xie--when the parasitic fungus grew in his stomach, that worry was the most clear. But Wu Xie worries for Xiaoge too: insisting on going to save Xiaoge from the snakes that night when they all went blind; swearing that even if he faces death, he would wait for Xiaoge to leave the meteorite; telling Xiaoge that he will take him home. (Related: the soft, almost vulnerable way Xiaoge tells Wu Xie “take me home” in episode 31.) Not to mention--even when Xiaoge loses his memories, he still remembers Wu Xie. (And Pangzi smiles knowingly right after that scene.)

There are too many character/relationship moments I could write about, but one that stuck out in particular was when they were facing the spiders, and Wu Xie stopped Xiaoge from cutting his hand and using his blood to make the spiders retreat. At this point, Wu Xie and Pangzi don't know the extent of how Xiaoge was (mis)treated as a child (and used as a blood bag, apparently), but they know about how "A-Kun" was captured used as bait. Wu Xie and Pangzi would never ask Xiaoge to bleed for them, no matter what. Not now, let alone 10+ years later. (I won't name names, but if you know what I'm talking about, then you know.)

Which brings me to my main point: the characters in Ultimate Note are the closest to their novel selves I have ever seen in a DMBJ adaptation, and this is objectively the best adaptation of the DMBJ novel. (Whether you prefer another adaption or not is your opinion--I absolutely love the Time Raiders movie, even though that plot is literally all over the place, and Xiaoge is decently OOC--but Ultimate Note is the best adaptation of the novel, and the characters are the most true to what they actually should be.)

You can see the innocent and naïve Wu Xie, but you can also see the developing confusion, frustration, and anger he feels because he's been lead around by his nose his entire life. And he is angry in the novel; he is a bit of a hot-headed bastard; he's not just a naïve child. I remember seeing some complaints that Wu Xie felt "OOC" in the first episode for being so furious with his San-shu, but I think his reactions were spot-on with how he felt, and how he wanted to react. A similar point is the scene where Wu Xie slammed Xiaoge against the car--aside from just being some fun fanservice, in the novel Wu Xie really was furious at Xiaoge for vanishing on him and never contacting him after leaving the Heavenly Palace in the Clouds. A lot of the novel is Wu Xie's inner thoughts, which are difficult to portray in a live action adaptation, but he really did pretty much want to pick a fight with Xiaoge about disappearing, and  Ultimate Note decided on how to express this frustration in a way that suits a drama adaptation. In addition, you can see how Wu Xie’s past experiences like the trip to Tamutuo has changed him in how he manipulates Panma into bringing him to the lake; and you can see how almost losing Xiaoge and Pangzi to the Miluotuo changed him as well, when he thinks he’s lost them for real in episode 36 (leading up to his decision to put on his San-shu’s mask by the end, despite the fact that “some masks, when worn too long, can no longer be taken off”).

As for Pangzi: even though he has scenes that were clearly exaggerated for comic relief, he has plenty of moments that build his character and the Iron Triangle’s bond. These include him pouring out the water while he and Wu Xie are waiting for Xiaoge, his grief over Yuncai’s death, his standing by Wu Xie during the hotel auction scene, and his almost mother-hen-like worry about Xiaoge while they’re entering the Zhang Family Mansion in the last five episodes. Not to mention, he’s really quite a smart and perceptive character, despite his goofiness: he sees through Xiaoge’s worry about Wu Xie, and he knows when to step in and liven the atmosphere (see: Wu Xie being all awkward about his gift to Xiaoge in episode 31, and Pangzi being there practically just for emotional support). Also in episode 31: Pangzi telling Xiaoge that he’s getting more and more humane (the implications about Wu Xie here are pretty obvious). All in all, Pangzi is a funny person; he is often comic relief, but he’s also a steadfastly loyal friend and someone who loves deeply and without regret. Initially we saw more of his humor, but we definitely got the depths to his character by the end of Ultimate Note.

Finally Xiaoge, who I’m discussing last because he’s my favorite character: for once, I can see the humanity behind the title “Zhang Qiling”, and in a way that isn’t OOC. Xiaoge isn’t treated as a free source of bug-repelling blood; he isn’t treated as some overpowered, untouchable idol; he isn’t treated as a rescue machine for whenever another character needs it. He is a human, not a god. For the rest, I think his actor’s words speak for themselves. (And now I really don’t trust anyone else except him with Xiaoge's character.)

Ultimate Note succeeded in capturing the nuances of its main characters: Wu Xie’s loss of his “tianzhen” and slow maturation to the man he will eventually become by Sha Hai; Pangzi’s outwardly humorous pseudo-caricature but inwardly deeply loyal and loving spirit; Xiaoge’s vulnerabilities, painful humanity, and the “heart” given to him by his mother, hidden beneath a seemingly impenetrable armor. This is an Iron Triangle that feels like the Iron Triangle, without needing say so much in words. This is an Iron Triangle with mutual respect and a friendship I can see and believe in.

In conclusion: Ultimate Note does the story justice; it does the characters justice; it does the relationships justice; and it did all this with a low budget and almost no promotion. You can tell the crew definitely cares about the source material.

My only complaint is that they couldn’t film the finale.

Rambling over! All my love to the Ultimate Note cast and crew <3

[my-writings-and-musings]

Could you do Himbo king Riptide with the oxygen loss?

Yes

But first

Thank you for giving him the best possible nickname and bestowing upon him the GREATEST of all titles he is forever the Himbo King in my heart oh my GOSH.

Part One: Here!

Part Two: Here!

Part Three: Here!

Part Four: Here!

Part Five: Here!

Part Six: Here!

Part Seven: Here!

Part Eight: Here!

Part Nine: Here!

Part Ten: Here!

Part Eleven: Here!

Part Twelve: You're Here!

Riptide

·Having often been dismissed or even mocked for his struggles understanding things that come so easy to others, he was relieved when you met him and were entirely accepting, turning his curiosity for earth to fondness for you in particular. For your part, you simply found his sweetness absolutely charming from the very beginning. While he also has a bit of a mischievous streak, that only contributed to the appeal, and the aquatic Autobot had you smitten fast. Now you're inseparable and everyone knows it. Today you're hanging out by the oil reservoir to chat, complete with some drinks to enjoy as you do so, though they're somewhat forgotten by the snuggle happy Riptide. Not being one for quiet contemplation doesn't stop him from enjoying mostly wordless cuddling sessions in the peaceful chamber.

·You're gaining a static charge thanks to his enthusiastic and cat like nuzzles against you, but you couldn't care less, especially because you know silent affection means he's quite content. A little kiss on his nasal crest earns you a growling purr, and when his optics meet your eyes you can see he's trying to think of something suave to say. The effort alone is sweet enough for you to willingly wait as long as he needs. Unfortunately, he doesn't get the opportunity to finish. There's a very mood ruining tremor that turns into a ground shaking quake, one that sends the reservoir turning over until a wave of oil is sent your way. Thankfully the bot you're dating is able to react on the spot, transforming into a boat and balancing you on his back until the ship grows still and the wave returns to the tank, at which point Riptide reverts to bipedal mode and holds you above the mess.

·Knowing that things aren't supposed to just tumble about, he tries to message someone for an explanation but finds he can't reach anyone. That immediately worries him, but not for his own sake. On instinct, he looks to your tiny form in his hands, knowing that any trouble will prove disastrous for your squishy self. Even if this is just a technical problem, you might get hurt, and he can't let that happen! He has to get you somewhere safe... The challenge of figuring out where is what's difficult, as the entire ship could be dangerous, and he's not accustomed to going away from potential trouble... You can see the panic growing on his face as you catch your breath, and a reassuring request to share the problem coaxes him into speaking.

·You listen diligently as he lays out the problem, his optics growing more worried as he explains the need to assist clashing with his priority to you, and admittedly the concern is touching. Had he been by himself, no doubt he'd have just fearlessly charged for the problem to help. Putting your own mind to the predicament, the possibility of a solution to all present issues becomes clear; the medical bay. No sooner have you posited the destination than he begins acting on it, cheerily praising the sense of it as he holds you close and starts moving. Despite being your proud protector, he doesn't mind leaving planning like this to you, as in fact it makes you and him a kind of dynamic duo. Now that the plan has been set, it's his job to be the muscle and keep you safe...

·There's a kind of comfort to be found in Riptide's arms, even with everything being so tense and quiet around the ship. Between his speed, strength and dedication, there's very little in the universe that could threaten you in his company. It makes you appreciate every moment being held so close to his warm frame. The big bot certainly notices you snuggling close in the silence, and he fights the urge to be talkative as he holds you closer, letting your small form settle naturally against his spark. Somehow he doesn't feel so on edge with you nearby. In fact, not much is scary at all with you in his life, and as an MTO he's spent a lot of time afraid. There's been so much fighting and death from the first day he awoke, and now he feels there can truly be something else for a change, even in moments like this.

·He knows enough about irony to realize that the ambush he walks right into is very ironic. Thankfully, he's honed his reflexes more than well enough to both dodge the first incoming hit and to move into a protective stance around you without hesitation. Outnumbered, he moves swiftly from the center of the circling aliens, each as big as he is but far slower. Shoulder checking one to facilitate an escape, he has just enough time to spot a little alcove a small distance ahead, and for your sake he makes an immediate decision. With a command for you to run, he releases you from his cupped palms and turns to fight off the attackers. All he can do is hope you understand and that he can fight off this many bad guys at once. Knowing that he has to, for both your sakes, doesn't help him as much as he thinks it should.

·Though you're more than a little rattled by the rush of action, you've learned enough in the past few months to recover from such things quickly, and the command for you to run is all you need to get moving. Loud sounds of combat fill your ears as you take off, but you don't stop. Cover is needed before you can check on your partner, instinct tells you. A shot from an energy weapon nearly takes away your hope of seeing him again when it hurls dangerously close. Heat singes your hair and makes you stumble, but you still manage to hobble behind a corner and into a human sized alcove. Only then, burned to a very uncomfortable but not dangerous degree, do you look back at Riptide. To your relief, he's managed to turn the tide of battle and is finishing off the last enemy with his bare hands, sharp dentae bared as he fights like a bot twice his size.

·From his own perspective, Riptide thought everything was a blur after he saw you stumble from a close encounter with blaster fire. Uncertain if you'd even gotten up, or what injuries you might have suffered, he'd gone into a rage assuming the very worst. The alien who'd taken the shot had been the first to go, their weapon crumbling in his servos to burn them with its acidic ammo, but pain hadn't been much of an obstacle in the face of worry. It had almost seemed like one blink of his optics had been all that passed between the start and end of the bloodshed. As soon as the last threat had been dealt with, his focus had shifted fearfully back to you, or at least where he'd last seen you. His spark almost sang to see you looking right back at him. Wincing from injuries he had been too preoccupied to feel before, he smiled through it all before kneeling to welcome you back to his arms in a careful embrace.

·Despite the burning afflicting your arms and face, bright pink blood was your first concern, especially that which dripped from a fist sized crater in his chest. Fussing over him without a care for yourself, you were lifted in a gentle hand as he tried to walk while reassuring you. Frankly, the discoloration to certain parts of your skin seems far more pressing a concern from his perspective, as he's never seen it look so flushed or give off so much heat. Suggesting that you take it easy the rest of the way to the medbay, he points out your still rapid breaths as a sign you need to relax. Even if he doesn't understand "breathing" he's seen it often enough to figure out you only speed it up when stressed. You find yourself surprised upon realizing you are indeed quite out of breath even now.

·Something lurches in his spark when he sees a disturbing slouch to your entire body, as if the adrenaline has finally faded and something awful is hitting you without its shield. Dizzy and quite exhausted, you lay yourself down in the palm holding you gently to try and regain some semblance of concentration, but find the allure of sleep to be growing by the second. Your brush with death must have taken a lot out of you... It's impossible to ignore how nice it is to relax and close your eyes. Even the pain of your injuries is so much more bearable when consciousness slips further away, and you suddenly can't think of many reasons to resist, even as your partner starts insistently asking why you want to sleep.

·Riptide goes right back to panicking as you start to power down in his arms no matter how he requests you stay awake. Tears start dotting his optics as the worst of possibilities run rampant through his mind, forcing him to run despite his own injuries to get you help before it's too late. What if you suffered some human injury he didn't know was possible during the fight? What if he couldn't get you to help in time? What if this was all his fault? Pleading for you to stay awake, he ignores the pain in his body as he continues to make himself run, half uncertain he's going the right way in his panic. Thinking borders on impossible with the hurt and grief warring inside of him. All he knows is that he can't lose you, and in the back of his processor a wicked bit of loathing taunts him for messing up in ways that a smart bot never would have.

·Limping into the medical bay, he brushes off immediate concern for his own injuries to hold you up and plead for somebot who knows how to fix you. The medics react quickly, having trained to treat humans with you on board, and First Aid informs him of a breakdown in the ship's atmospheric controls. Not understanding the finer details of the issue, he's nevertheless able to figure out you were in a kind of danger he wasn't even aware of. Seeing you be stabilized and bandaged makes him happy for only the shortest of moments. It hardly seems any of this could have happened if you had been with a bot who was smart enough to grasp these things. From the ambush to the delay just in getting you here, it isn't hard to conclude he's responsible for your suffering...

·Having not truly lost consciousness until the medics put you under to recover, you know where you are when wakefulness stirs your limbs, but that doesn't stop you from feeling a touch confused. Accustomed to waking in the presence of one particular bot, you stretch out your hand in a blind search for a familiar presence. A warm digit presses into your palm without delay. Opening your eyes to a beloved face partially obscured by an oxygen mask, you're relieved to see the injuries he endured protecting you have been patched up to the best of Autobot medical ability, leaving little more than a few bandages to mark their presence. However, the usually perky bot is looking absolutely distraught. Grey optics make it clear to you he's been crying. Without a pause, you ask him if he was hurt worse than initially thought, or if something terrible happened to someone else.

·At your concern he sheds more tears, both touched by your words and feeling wholly undeserving of their compassion. He can't help but say how all of your troubles are his fault, as anyone who was actually smart would have taken you here right away. They also would have been able to avoid walking right into an ambush, something only bots as slow as himself would do, because he's just so dumb. At his last word you grab his digit insistently, unable to stand up and stop such talk as you usually do when teasing gets to him. Hearing you say that such talk simply isn't true, that you adore him and he made the decisions that likely saved your life in addition to fighting off a team of aliens... Your words help, as they always do. Though he's still quite rattled at the idea of nearly losing you.

·Gesturing to his still healing wounds, you assure him that you're afraid as well, because there's a lot out there capable of hurting you both. But, together, you stand a chance. That gives him pleasant pause. Recalling how he'd compared the two of you to a kind of dynamic duo, he smiles and leans in to you as he does when seeking cuddles. Careful of your own bandages, you let him snuggle close and pet his crest just the way he likes, encouraging him to relax. Forming a protective wall around you, he's able to get some much needed rest alongside you, looking far more peaceful at the prospect of always having you beside him.

[cripplingaddictions]

Bakugo x Reader: Confession

Summary: After Bakugo’s mental breakdown with Midoriya outside the dorms, you take it upon yourself to get him to open up. Of course it isn’t easy, but you two had known each other for years. Bakugo realises how he really feels and claims you as his own.

Rating: SFW

Genre: Fluff, angst, lime

Word Count: 4.7k

A/n: I love comfort fluff and tending to wound tropes... and I also used the headcanon that Bakugo needs hearing aids, so that is included in this fic. I’m also sorry about the slow updates... I’ll have some headcanons out for haikyuu in the new future so stay tuned!

The crisp night air flooded through the open windows as you held a warm drink in your chilly hands. A fluffy blank landed on your shoulders as Mina deposited them off to everyone. You shifted yourself to meet Mina’s extraordinary eyes, nodding in thanks. Mina returned with a cheery smile of her own.

All the girls of 1A populated the couches, basking in the much needed warmth. A few boys sat amongst you, such as Kaminari, Kirishima, Ojiro, and Sero. Mineta desperately cried for help, wrapped in a cocoon of Sero’s tape after a perverted comment directed at Momo. Todoroki did as he always did, awkwardly standing slightly adjacent to the lively group, a keen but kind eye flickering between classmates as they contributed to the conversation.

“Everyone!” Iida marched up to your group, “Leaving the windows open in this weather is incredibly irresponsible! You will all get a cold!” His rapidly chopping hands paused momentarily to hurriedly pull all the windows shut.

“Thanks, emergency exit!” Kirishima waved at the class representative. A satisfied expression washed over Iida’s face.

You rolled your eyes, slightly smiling at them, before taking a prolonged sip of your warm beverage. Without spilling it, you pulled your legs up on the couch to cross them.

The class was happily celebrating a successful hero licensing exam. All but Bakugo and Todoroki. Hagakure and Momo had insisted they could join you too. It didn’t surprise you that Todoroki showed up but Bakugo didn’t, for one of them took it a lot worse than the other.

Bakugo was your childhood friend, knowing him since forever. There wasn’t a time you didn’t know each other, but not quite outdating him knowing Midoriya. You never really announced yourselves as “friends”, per se. It more so happened by consistently interacting, never really introducing yourselves. One of those friendships that “just happened”, neither of you remembering when you really met each other. Turns out, your mothers had been friends for years prior.

As you two grew older, and Bakugo became more and more like... himself, you did not condemn for anything he would say to Midoriya, being quirkless. Luckily, you happened to manifest a fairly powerful quirk, so he never judged you for it. He could never find himself to explode at you whenever you told him to back off. He may yell, but it never went further than petty insults. Of course, Mitsuki would have been appalled with him if he did. She definitely had a soft spot for you.

Once starting at UA, Bakugo’s ego slowly but surely began to deflate. He began to obtain standards, something that surprised you plenty. You noticed how he acted around Kirishima. That was when you realised the difference between how he treated all his peers. He seemed to rank them - most worthy of his friendship and time to least. Upon witnessing Kirishima - someone pretty high in those “ranks” - interact with him, you noticed the outside perspective. How nice he was to you and Kirishima, compared to people like Midoriya.

Eventually, you grew an odd feeling in your chest whenever he showed up to class. Top buttons undone and without a tie. Or when you caught a glimpse of his ember swirling eyes. Not to mention during training, rocking up in that hero costume of his.

You even began to play a little game. Testing him to see how long you could pester, order, or genuinely annoy him before he literally exploded at you. More and more of late, that time stretched. Unfortunately, your little experiment didn’t go unnoticed. All the girls of 1A knew, questioning you about it. You passed it off as something you thought would be funny. Only Mina saw right through you. She knew you liked him and constantly teased you about it to no end. Midoriya and Kirishima were the only others to notice you pushing his buttons more than usual lately.

Uraraka’s voice broke through your elaborate train of thought, “Y/N...”

“Yeah?” You answered.

“Do you have any idea where Deku is?” Her voice trembled slightly, her cheeks going slightly pinker as she rubbed the back of her neck. She couldn’t be more obvious about her crush on Midoriya, so you had nothing to worry about. “He hasn’t come back since Bakugo said he wanted to talk to him. I’m kind of worried about him.”

A huff left your lips, “In all honesty, I am too. There’s no telling what Bakugo wanted to talk to him about.”

“He might be seeking girl advice,” Mina chimed in, sending a sly wink in your direction.

You immediately took a long sip of your drink, hoping the cup hid your slight blush as you furrowed your eyebrows at Mina.

“I highly doubt it,” Tsuyu placed a finger to her chin in thought, “I’m not sure that Bakugo would need that kind of advice. Especially not from Midoriya.” Your gaze fell.

“He probably wants to kill him,” Jirou shrugged her shoulders, taking a sip from her own drink.

Jirou’s comment silenced the group of 1A girls. Only condescending sipping of drinks and the guys chattering filled your ears. Your attention left your drink to the sound of shuffling feet approaching. Bright yellow eyes met yours when the source of the shuffling feet sat beside you.

“Ladies,” Kaminari’s smooth voice wooed as he rested his arms on the back of the couch, “What’re you guys talking about?”

Dyed red hair, held up by a graphic bandana, flashed your peripheral vision as Kirishima took a seat next to you. He pouted slightly when you flashed him an almost sarcastic smile. The pout couldn’t mask that he could see right through you. Worry for Bakugo plagued your mind. There was no doubt Midoriya had improved his ability to use his quirk. If Bakugo had indeed wanted to fight him, he definitely underestimated him.

“I’m sure he’s just in bed, Y/N,” Kirishima placed a hand on your shoulder, “It is way past eight-thirty.”

You stifled a small giggle, nodding at Kirishima’s words and mentally thanked him for his optimistic nature. You continued to sip your drink in silence, occasionally tuning in to Mina and Kaminari’s chaotic conversation. Overall, you felt the homeliness of this family created through 1A. A homeliness soon to be destroyed.

A loud bang caused everyone to close their mouths, the worst case scenario filled your head. Luckily, when you followed it to its source, it came to a slammed door. An easy answer came to your mind; the wind. However, standing before the door stood Bakugo and Midoriya. Both definitely looking a bit rough around the edges. A gauze on each cheek, they looked defeated. They refused to reach each other’s eyes, or any other pair staring them.

You cautiously planted your cup on the coaster before you, as if you were afraid of agitating Bakugo, easily spotting the anger and emotion in his ruby eyes.

“Bakugo and Midoriya!” Iida rushed over to them in a flash, his arms chopping up and down in anger, “Where on earth have you been? Why do you look like you just got into another brawl with some villains?”

“Shut the hell up, four-eyes,” Bakugo snapped, grumbling to himself. He stuffed his hands into his pockets, before storming past the couches.

Before anyone could stop you, you leapt to your feet. Your drink left behind, you rushed after Bakugo. The blanket around your shoulders flowed behind you like a cape, you called out to the angry blond, “Bakugo!”

Bakugo ignored you, continuing up the stairs. Hurriedly, you sped up the stairs and overtook him.

Your body blocked his, “Bakugo, what the hell happened?”

His head continued to hang low, his blond hair falling to obscure his eyes from view as you desperately tried to meet them. Scratches, grazes and cuts littered his face and arms, some covered up with gauze. The two gauzes on his cheeks mirrored each other, lightly stained in blood. Dust and dirt smudged up his arms; his wounds weren’t properly cleaned. His hands stuffed in his baggy sweatpants shook slightly, from both physical and emotional pain.

“Shut up, Y/N,” Bakugo’s wavering voice protested, failing at any attempted aggression, “I don’t need to tell you shit.”

You heaved in a shaky breath, “True, but I want to know. I might be able to help you.”

“You can’t help me,” his voice raised, causing you to step back. You really wished you could see his eyes, to see what kind of pain he was in.

“You won’t know that until you tell me what’s wrong,” you sighed, trying your best to stay calm and not snap back.

“Get out of my way...”

Bakugo harshly barged his shoulder into yours, causing you to stumble to the side slightly. You stepped after him as he continued to his dorm, the most likely place you imagined he would storm off to. You caught up again, flinging an arm out in front of him. His warm, sweaty hand latched onto your forearm. Your heart skipped a beat, relishing the ironically soft touch.

However, the softness of his touch contradicted his tone, “Y/N, move... right now...”

“Bakugo!” You cried, not afraid of the slightly startled boy before you. 

You didn’t budge or flinch as you laced your fingers between the ones he gripped onto your forearm with. With a soft touch, you lifted his chin upwards to get a perfect view of his face. 

His cut up face held the softest expression you had ever seen. No crease sat between his eyebrows, grazes over his forehead. The gauzes taped to his cheeks hid the worst of his face injuries, letting a small amount of blood to seep through it. His eyes glistened with tears, about to be spilt. They stung red, from previous tears.

Katsuki Bakugo stood before you, with tears in his eyes.

The Katsuki Bakugo.

“You can tell me, you know,” You hushed, once his bloodshot eyes met your sympathetic ones, “I’ve always been there for you, like when you got your hearing aids.”

One hand still holding his, you let the other one slip up to expose the small black device in his left ear. It wrapped around the back, resting behind his ear. A soft sympathetic smile graced your features, as Bakugo squeezed his eyes shut. He entered a vulnerable state, allowing you to wrap an arm around his lower neck and pull him into a hug.

“Please...” You whispered, “It’s better if you let it all out.”

Bakugo awkwardly stepped out of the hug, slipping his hand out of your grip. His eyebrows creased again, squinting his eyes to hold back any tears. He shoved his hands into his pockets, and refused to meet your eyes again.

“I’m just fucking pissed!” He raised his voice again, “I’m pissed at myself. At damn Deku! How did he become someone so damn special? And I didn’t!? When I finally get fucking recognised for something... it’s because I ended All Might! Why me?”

Your breath hitched. All of Bakugo’s pain unloaded onto you. All Might’s end happened a small while ago. He held this guilt in for that long? No wonder he was angry. In a way, you felt privileged and relieved Bakugo opened up to you. You always tried to be there for him. You wished you could have been there earlier, to stop him ever feeling like this in the first place.

“Bakugo...” You hushed his uneven breathing. It almost sounded like he was about to have a panic attack, “You couldn’t have prevented it. No one knew that it was going to happen. The last person who should be blaming themselves is you.”

“I could have done something! All I did was stand and watch. I left as soon as I saw you call out to me. Damn it!”

“Look at me, Bakugo,” digging into his pockets, you removed his hands from them and held them in your own, “If you didn’t leave when I called you, not only All Might would have ended. You would have too. And I don’t know what I would ever do if you did.”

A sharp inhale came from Bakugo’s parted lips, before he trailed off, “Da-damn it...”

“I care about you, Baku,” you let your thumbs run small uncoordinated circles on the back of his warm veiny hands. You couldn’t force yourself to look into his eyes, afraid of how he would respond. “I care more than you can ever imagine.”

“I- I-, fuck...” He couldn’t form sentences, let alone words. You, of course, couldn’t blame him. Not only because of his current emotional state, but you knew it would take a little bit more to get something so sincere out of Bakugo.

“It’s okay,” you finally met his red eyes, trying to mask the glossiness of your own, “It’s okay if you don’t return my feelings... I won’t take it too harshly.”

A small cocky grin slid its way onto Bakugo’s disheartened features, “Who said I didn’t, baka.”

Little giggles left your mouth as you wrapped your arms around his neck. A newfound sense of confidence filled you. Not only did you let the burden of your confession lift off your chest, but he reciprocated the feelings. You couldn’t wait to tell Mina all about it.

“Now...” All sadness and sorrow had drained from Bakugo, a sudden huskiness melted off his words, “Let me claim you as mine.”

“Wait, wha-” Without warning, Bakugo cut you off by pushing you forward towards the elevator at the end of the corridor. A small laugh left you again upon witnessing the determination - no matter what it was for - return to Bakugo. The Katsuki Bakugo you knew and loved was back.

Without letting go of your wrist, Bakugo frantically pressed the elevator button, “Hurry up, you damn elevator!”

“Yelling at it want make it come faster, you know.”

“Shut up, Y/N.”

Once the elevator pinged, the doors slid open. Bakugo rushed you inside, turning around to watch as the doors slid shut again. No words were spoken, both of you urgently watching the elevator travel up to the level his dorm stood located in. You adjusted your hand in Bakugo’s grip, only for him to squeeze your hand tighter. The small action caused a tiny smile to tug at your lips in satisfaction. Damn, it felt good to finally have him.

The travelling between the elevator and Bakugo’s dorms happened so quickly it was all a blur. The only thing you knew was the sound of the door slamming behind you, before you were back up against the wall beside it.

Bakugo’s rough, calloused hands pinned your wrists to your side. There was no time to protest before the gap between you two closed. Your lips roughly fought against his a loosing battle. His lips felt chapped but soft at the same time. The taste of nitroglycerin lingered between your lips, the smell of caramel wafting into your nostrils. His hands let go of your wrists, finding a new home firmly on your hips only to press you further against the wall. Hands now free, they rushed into his hair. Silky blond locks weaved in and out of your fingers before you ran them down his neck to grip his shoulders.

The tickling of his tongue on your bottom lip begged your lips open, allowing it to slip inside your mouth. You desperately fought against his rough movements, only to lose. He took complete dominance as he slipped a knee between your thighs and propped you even further up the wall. In retaliation, you wrapped your legs around his waist, so he supported your full weight. Your crotch shamelessly pressed against his lower abdomen.

A gasp left your mouth as his warm hands glided up your curves and beneath your shirt. Bakugo’s skilled fingers ran patterns on the soft skin of your back, sending countless satisfied shivers up your spine. Your mouths continued to move in sink as his fingers slid along the skin just beneath your bra. The moan that escaped your mouth sent a wicked smirk onto Bakugo’s lips. Without warning, Bakugo’s lips left yours and attached to the soft skin of your jaw. You tilted your head to the side to give him more access to trail kisses down the curve of your neck. At the same time, one of his hands ran to the clasp of your bra. He fiddled with it, desperately trying to unclasp it before he gave up and detached his warm mouth from your neck.

“Damn it,” his warm moist breath tickled your neck, “How does this shitty thing work?”

You let a laugh leave your lips as you arched your back for your own hands to slip up your shirt. In an instant, you had detached it. The bra lacked straps, causing it to immediately drop to the floor.

A growl left Bakugo as he began sucking on the soft flesh of your neck. His warm, wet tongue pressed and flicked against it. The occasional sensation of his teeth grazing over your neck made a shiver slide up your spine. Bakugo’s large hands travelled back to the front, fanning over you exposed breasts. They travelled over them until he lightly fondled them in his hand, squeezing gently. Your hands on his shoulders quickly gripped onto the fabric of his black tank top. One of his thumbs flicked over your hardened nipple, causing his name to fall from your mouth in a pleasurable moan.

Bakugo greedily grunted, whispering against your neck, “Yeah, I like that, Y/N...”

His tongue continued to trail over your skin, sucking and flicking until he pulled away. Your eyes fluttered open, leaning down to press your forehead against his. Slowly, Bakugo’s hands trailed back down your sides and pulled out of your shirt. Your feet made it safely back down to the ground. When you attempted to meet Bakugo’s eyes, you found them trailing over purple bruises covering your neck, continuing up to the start of your jaw.

“Now you’re mine,” Bakugo brought you into a safe hug, letting you rest your head into the crevice of his neck. Your eyes squeezed shut again, delving yourself completely into his sent of caramel.

“As far as first kisses go,” you teased, letting a cheeky grin slide onto your face, “that wasn’t half bad.”

“Damn well, it wasn’t half bad!” His voice lifted higher, a familiar angry tone taking over. An even bigger smile came to your face once you realised he had almost completely forgotten the predicament he was in previously. “That better have been the best kiss ever!”

A little string of laughs left you, “Yeah, yeah. It was the best. You got me there.”

The silence continued for a little longer, until Bakugo retreated out of the hug. He cleared his throat before turning away from you. You took the opportunity to rush to his mirror, observing the damage he had done. A dozen or so purple hickies littered across your neck. They travelled all the way to your jaw and almost your ears. It would take a lot of foundation to cover those up, you thought.

“I’m definitely yours, it seems,” you turned to Bakugo, who only grunted, “I almost look as beat up as you.”

“I’m fine,” came his reply.

“You still need to clean those wounds and cover them up.”

“I don’t need Recovery Girl.”

“No, we shouldn’t bother Recovery Girl right now. I’d be happy to do it for you in the girls bathroom. Mr Aizawa is long gone, don’t worry about him catching us.”

“What about your annoying extras?”

“If any of the girls come in, I’m sure they’ll understand and make a pretty quick exit. I promise.”

Bakugo huffed in reply as you tilted your head in the direction of the door. You made your way to the door. As you reached out for the door handle, a bundle of black was thrown at you.

“Cover up, damn it,” Bakugo shoved his hands in his pockets and joined you by the door, “You don’t even have a bra on.”

“Oh, yeah,” you hurriedly unfolded the black clothing item, to find it was one of Bakugo’s plain black hoodies. You slipped it over your head and let it drop down a little further than your hoodies usually would. Caramel scent engulfed you, making it clear it hadn’t been washed since the last wear. Normally, that would disgust you, but it was your boyfriend’s. You plotted how long you were going to hold onto it in your head as you bundled the hood around your neck.

You gestured to yourself, only to receive a shrug from Bakugo. The shrug couldn’t hide the tiny reddish tint on his cheeks from the sight of you in his clothes. A victorious smile made it to your face, and you opened the door.

The journey to the girl’s bathrooms was uninterrupted. You led him there, linking pinkies the whole way. He hesitated to walk through the door, after all it was the female bathroom. The door shut suddenly behind you as you pointed Bakugo to sit on the bathroom counter. Swinging open the cabinet above the sink, you pulled out a small box of first aid supplies. You placed you hands on your hips after allocating the box a spot next to Bakugo.

“Take your shirt off,” you demanded, the authoritative tone desperately hiding the redness of your ears.

“Why?” Bakugo grumbled, mocking you with arms crossed.

“So I can see if you have any further injuries,” You opened the first aid box, pulling out a dry rag. Out of the corner of your eye, you spied Bakugo lifting his tank top over his head to reveal his toned chest and abs as you ran cold water over the rag. Wringing it of excess water, you turned to see him checking himself over for any injuries.

“Nothing,” Bakugo bluntly replied.

“Yes, but your ribs are bruised,” you pointed at the green patches of flesh along his sides. The mirror didn’t indicate any wounds or bruises on his back. Without warning, you dragged the moist rag over the bruises. A few droplets of water rolled down his chiseled stomach as he pulled back.

“That shit is cold!” Bakugo exclaimed, “I’m getting wet now, damn it!”

“It’s a rag with water, what did you expect?” You hummed, continuing to trace the bruised ribs softly with the rag. You leaned over the counter to grab hold of his closest hand, resting your sover it. “Stay still.”

Once you had finished, you gently gripped one of his forearms. The cloth traced his skin, washing it clean. You had to scrub it softly at some points, but avoided any of the open grazes and cuts. You travelled the cloth to run over his biceps, this time lightly dabbing at the largest graze. Your skilled hands couldn’t hide the blush on your face, especially with his fiery eyes watching your every move. They occasionally shifted to your concentrated features.

The cloth quickly passed over his shoulders and chest, before repeating the process on his other arm. This one wasn’t as scratched up as the other, making your job a lot simpler. Once you finished, you took a step back over to the sink.

“You’re probably gonna hate what I’m about to do,” you sighed, wringing out the rag after rinsing it.

“What are you gonna do?” He demanded, less agitated than he usually would be.

You didn’t answer with words but with your actions. Stopping the dripping of the rag, you dragged it around the gauze on his cheek. His hand swiped up, grabbing your wrist and pulling my hand away from his face.

“Die shitty rag! How dare you come near my face!”

A full hearted laugh left your lips, your head tilting back, “I’m trying to help you, baka. Please let me.”

Bakugo studied your face for a short while, until he ripped his eyes away, “Fine.” He left his cheek exposed, letting you place the rag back onto it. All the dust and ash had been scrubbed from his cheeks and nose. You softly dragged the rag over his forehead, softly dabbing it over a shallow graze. Once, your hand pulled away, you leaned up to place a soft kiss on his forehead.

“Are you done?” Bakugo rolled his eyes, pressing his bare back against the mirror.

You shook your head, “Nope. Not even close.” You placed the damp rag in the sink, digging around in the first aid box again. Bakugo groaned in annoyance, causing you to smile and shake your head again.

Cold plastic slipped between your finger tips - a small bottle of antiseptic. Pulling it out, you placed a few cotton balls next to it. Carefully, you dropped a small amount of antiseptic onto the cotton ball. You lifted it towards Bakugo, who grimaced at the sight.

“I can’t promise this won’t hurt,” you hissed in empathy, hesitantly detaching he hand from the counter. Pulling his arm closer, you dabbed the cotton ball onto one of the shallow grazes on his forearm.

Bakugo immediately pulled back, “Antiseptic can die!” You smiled, knowing that was his way of saying that it stung.

“It’s gonna sting a little bit,” you rolled your eyes, “I did tell you that.”

Your hand swiped out to grab his wrist in it again as he constantly ripped it away, “Katsuki Bakugo! It’ll get infected and hurt even more if you don’t let me do this!” You exclaimed in a playful seriousness.

“Say that again,” the grimace on Bakugo!s face dropped, his features now softer.

“It’ll get infected?”

“No, baka. My name.”

“Your name? Katsuki Bakugo?”

The smirk on his face now unmistakable, he placed a hand on your waist, “Yeah, call me Katsuki. I like when you say my name.”

A similar smirk crossed your face as you placed a hand over his on your waist. Without warning him, you took the cotton ball and frantically dabbed it onto the next graze. Katsuki grunted, whipping his arm out of your reach.

His eyes remained glued in the victimised graze, “What the hell? That was a dirty trick!”

“It worked, though,” you replied, drenching a new cotton ball in antiseptic, “That’s all that matters.”

“Whatever.”

Eventually, he gave up fighting against you, allowing you to finish applying antiseptic to grazes and cuts on his arms and shoulders without much fuss. You left the injuries covered by the gauze on his cheeks alone, immediately tending to the largest and most tender graze on his forehead. With your free hand, you pushed back his blond hair that shaded it. You kept that hand lovingly caressing the start of his hairline, while the other hesitantly dabbed at the graze.

Katsuki hissed through his teeth, causing you to slip your hand down the side of his face. You held his cheek in your palm and sent him an apologetic look.

“I’m sorry,” you placed the cotton ball down into the small pile of used ones under Katsuki’s observant gaze.

“I think I’m going to leave that one exposed. It needs to dry out to heal properly,” you explained thoroughly. A grunt left Katsuki as you pulled out more gauzes and a roll of bandage.

After a silent moment, you had successfully wrapped up his entire right forearm in a bandage. A large gauze covered a wide but shallow graze on his left shoulder and a couple of smaller ones littered over some small ones on his left bicep.

As you began to quietly pack up the first aid box, you felt a pair of arms slide around your waist. You stood on your tippy-toes to place it back in the cabinet, only for the limbs to wrap around you tighter. Katsuki’s breathtaking red eyes met yours in the reflection of the mirror, where you swayed in his arms in contentment.

“When I’m let off this shitty house arrest,” Katsuki grumbled into your marked neck from your previous activities, “I’m taking you out.”

“Yeah,” you laughed, leaning your head against his, “I’d love to, Katsuki.”

“It wasn’t a choice.”

A giggle left your lips, leaving both of you happy as you stood in each other’s arms.

[onepiece-writting-forest]

Hello my dear friend! I really loved your headcanons with Killer and Hawkins walking in on their crush, and i wanted to ask if we can have a part 2, where this time it's their crush who are walking in ~ SFW or NSFW i let you choose 🤗 (im pretty you were surprised by my request 👀👀)

[Part 1!] [Headcanon of Killer and Hawkins walking ino n their crush changing]

[Totally did not expect this ask...no... 👀 So Since I already like the setup, I will recycle that one. Especially the forest part with Killer, and i continued with Hawkins part. And I  made it SFW since it’s two characters and I didn’t want it to be too long ;°;  My apologies. Hope you enjoy!]

Your captain had given you the task to go collect something edible. May it be mushrooms, berries or any other obscure plant which wouldn’t poison the pirates. You were the ships medic, and you had the knowledge for it. Especially after you prepared yourself before your crew anchored at this nature-dominated island. You have found some fitting literature for this specific island which had given you the information on what to eat, and what to stay away from. 

While you walked in the humid atmosphere, you got thirsty at some point and followed the sound of the river. Your steps were light and quiet as usual. When you arrived, you felt a too familiar presents close by, and tensed up. You looked around, only to spot a wild blond mane. Staying hidden behind a tree trunk you watched him. He was closing the buttons on his jeans. His shirt, his mask and his weapons were laying in the grass. It seemed like he took a quick bath, his hair seemed damp from the water. Understandable considering how many days you’ve been on this island now. All the walking through mud and bushes didn’t do well on the crew hygiene. His bare back was turned to you, and you kept watching him from the distance. He didn’t move, just stood there. You noticed how his back muscles tensed up. His behavior was off.

Within seconds, Killer had one of his scythe in his hand, turned around and threw it into your direction. The speed the blade was spinning at you made your heart stop. Without even thinking you pulled your sword out, enough for the blade to keep the tip in the sword sheath, and blocked his scythe. It crashed against your blade, and made you stumble backwards for a bit. “You should know better to not stalk people when they’re changing.” Without his mask and his shirt, he walked over to you, his voice somewhat amusing. You needed a second to catch your breath, before you pushed your sword back in. Sneaking up on Killer wasn’t smart. “Throwing your  scythe wasn’t necessary.” You said with a sigh and stroke your hair back,  before you faced him. Seeing him without his mask wasn’t new to you. He was quite comfortable around you, and you were well aware of that. Yet, the way the sun hit against him and contoured his edges wasn’t something you were used to. He caught you starring, again.

Killer snipped in front of your face, trying to get you back to reality. You blinked a few times in irritation, before you pulled your eyes away from his torso and faced him.“I knew it was you. Wanted to test you.” He grinned slightly, and picked up his scythe to put it back into it’s sheath. He knew your skills, you wouldn’t be a member of this crew if you wouldn’t be strong. “Hope you enjoyed it.”  He tilted his head, self-confidence beaming from him. He knew how you felt for him, that’s what made him so cocky. Situations like this weren’t rare, the two of you flirted a lot when the others were not around. Throwing suggestive comments at each other whenever you could. You knew it was mutual, yet still hidden. “Of course, thanks for the show.” You said and grinned up to him. He clicked his tongue and bowed down to you, capturing your chin between his fingers. The way his broad form hovered over you made goosebumps spread over you skin. You didn’t back down, and leaned into his touch, a grin still hovering on your lips. “It’s not for free...” His voice was deep and raspy, almost a whisper.

This cat-and-mouse game was going on for a while now, and there were many opportunities you could have taken. Like this one. No one was around, no one would hear you two. However, you didn’t want this to be some friendship with benefits. You’ve seen this with many women on man-dominated crews. It seemed enjoyable, but you wanted something more. Your crush had developed into a love interest, and you were not a toy Killer would play with however he wanted.

Before he could react, you had your dagger pulled, pressed against his throat. It was in no way threatening, Killer was aware of that. It was rather playful, just like him throwing the his scythe. A smirk formed on his lips and he raised an eyebrow. You pressed the blade slightly against his skin, just to let him feel the cold blade. “Ask me out, and I will repay you.” Killers shoulders shook from the chuckle he held back. He loved that on you. You played along with all those dirty jokes and suggestive looks, however weren’t easy to get. A women with dignity and self-confidence. Just his taste.

“Alright.” He pulled away, and walked back to were his shirt and mask was. You put your dagger back and watched him gather his stuff with a smirk. “If we survive this shithole island, I will take you out. Deal?”

“Deal.”

You were really thankful that you were allowed to use his bathtub. It calmed your mind and relaxed your body more than ever. Not only taking a bath, but generally the atmosphere in his bathroom was so cozy. He had a good sense for decorating the room, and those essential oils for the water were amazing. He knew how to relax, that was clear. 

The last time he allowed it to you, without you asking. It was an offer you gladly took. This time, you wanted to ask him for a second allowance. The relationship between you and your captain seemed pretty down to earth from an outta perspective, yet you two get along really well. So well, that he indeed allowed you a second time. The crew had noticed that you sometimes got a different treatment from the captain, and they didn’t begrudged it. They actually liked seeing you two together and only waited for the moment when it would finally happen. Your personalities fitted perfectly for each other, which you had noticed as well. But for now, you thanked your captain for being able to use the bathtub again. You agreed on the evening, since the crew had business to take care of the whole day. 

That business ended in a bloodbath, a glory victory for you crew. Some small injuries but nothing to be worried about. Your clothes were soaked in blood which slowly beg an to dry and smell of iron. Dirt and blood from your enemies covered your hands and some drops even landed on your face. You felt disgusting and the only thing you wanted was that promised bath. A quick visit to your own room to grab your stuff, before you headed to the captains cabin. You knocked, yet no one answered. Thinking Hawkins wasn’t there, you opened up the room and peaked inside. It was empty. You closed the door behind you and were about to step into the bathroom, when you spotted that the door was open. You froze in place when you saw your captain sitting on the edge of the bathtub. He had his shirt removed, and tried to scrub the blood stains away. A red splash of it was on his face and on his torso. He looked like he came freshly from combat, which he actually did.

He didn’t look up, yet spoke to you which made you flinch just a bit. It felt like he didn’t notice you, yet he was well aware that you were in his room. He didn’t forgot the promise he made. “My apologies, I will leave in a minute.” You nodded and stepped into the room, to place your fresh clothes in your hand on a stool close by. He was still scrubbing his shirt, but at some point gave it up. He tried to remove the fresh blood as good as possible, so the later washing would do the rest. Looking up, he faced you, and watched how you placed your neatly folded clothes aside. His eyes then darted to the bathtub. He’d love to take a bath right now, he felt as dirty as you did. You caught him looking, aware of what he was thinking. A silent sigh left your lips as you sat next to him on the edge of the bathtub. “Hawkins...I think the thing between us is pretty obvious now isn't it?” He looked at you for a moment and nodded. He thought the same. “I guessed you would want to speak about it today. It was time anyway. Waiting longer wouldn’t do any good.”

There was a short silence between you two, both trying to think of words to say. The right words. You mind was circling over so many thoughts and questions you had, you couldn't decided which one was the right one. “...Should we?” You finally broke the silence and looked at the blonde one. This questions was probably one he could answer better than you. Not only with him reading cards, but also him having a good gut feeling for decisions. That was the reason he was the captain after all. He knew when the risk was worth it, and when not.  Hawkins looked into his lap and tilted his head. He was thinking about it. He had thought about it for a long time actually. And the answer was yes every time, the chance of a successful relationship with you only grew by time. However, he didn’t want to answer with a simple yes.

Actually, he didn’t answer you at all, and simply stood up. He turned around to close the plughole of the bathtub, before he turned on the water. You watched him curiously, knowing you captain would give you an answer eventually, which didn’t have to be verbal.  He took a few of the essential oils, looked at them and tried to decide which one to pick. A floral one got chosen. He let a few drops fall into the water and put the glass bottle back into the basket. The candles in the room got lit, and the bullseye covered with the curtains. When he closed the door of the bathroom and stayed with you, you knew you got your answer. It was a clear ‘yes’. A small smile formed on your lips and your heart raced liked wild. Even more when he began to strip down completely and sat into the tub. He looked at you, nodding into the water. You of course understood his silent demand, and removed your blood soaked clothes. Hawkins held a hand out for you and helped you get into the tub. You  made yourself comfortable between his legs with your back resting against his chest.

His arms wrapped around your form, and he leaned his head back, closing his eyes. “Well, since it’s official, how about we share my room as well. How does that sound?”

[thescatterbrainedwriter]

Crossed Wires pt.4

Flash Fanfic

Warnings: None

Word Count: ~3,000

Pairings: Oc x Canon

——

“Hey uh, is Emily alright?” Ralph asked wandering into the room and gesturing to the hall behind him. “She seemed kinda... off....” He paused pointing to Harry. “Are you-?”

“Harry, again,” he replied finishing his thought.

“Again? Wha?” Ralph asked puzzled.

“Yeah, you missed Lothario, Wolfgang and H. P.,” Cisco said forcing a smile. Ralph only became more confused by the unfamiliar name list and scratched his head. “So, those are.....?”

“Other entangled consciousnesses, yes,” Harry answered. “It would seem that, due to recent circumstances, they essentially have free reign.”

“Well that can’t be good,” Ralph commented. “No, it isn’t,” Harry responded rather curtly. “Did you happen to see where she was going?” Ralph shook his head. “I’m not sure of the destination but she was walking pretty fast down the hall to the elevator. Didn’t even say hi.” Harry rubbed his chin as he sunk into thought. There were quite a lot of places the elevators lead to, certainly there was a more sure way of predicting where she went other than checking each floor. “Was there any particular place she spent a lot of time in the past? Other than her room that is.”

They all paused to consider the question scouring their memories for any kind of clue. It had been quite a few years now since she was first held at the lab under instructions from Thawn so there was a lot of information to sift through. “Well, she has been spending more time at Jitters lately. Specifically the loft area,” Ralph offered. “Maybe she needs the distraction of so many conversations.”

“Yeah, but even before Eddie erased Thawn from the timeline she seemed to really like the pipeline,” Cisco countered. “Even leading up to when he eventually showed himself she would be down there.”

“She did train in the bunker a fair bit,” Caitlyn said thoughtfully. “I’m not sure about when we all went home but Dr. Wells did find her down there quite often.”

After a brief pause in consideration, Harry straightened his back and started to leave. “I know where she is,” he said as he left leaving everyone rather curious. It was only when he stepped inside the elevator and pushed a button that he realized he had no idea what he wanted to say. He smiled to himself and decided, just this once, he would go with it and see what happened.

Once the elevator dinged, he took a breath and stepped out making his way toward the large door of the pipeline. It was closed as always, seeing as they weren’t keeping metas there anymore nor using it to accelerate particles, making him momentarily doubt his choice but went ahead and opened it anyway. Slipping his hands into his pockets he walked out onto the bridge just outside the door and stood quietly looking around. “I know your here,” he said after a short while still observing the surroundings. Slowly Emily peeked around from underneath and floated up bringing a smile to Harry’s face. “There you are.” She kept her distance continuing to hover off the ground, still not quite convinced and very much worried about his condition, watching him warily.

“It’s Harry,” he assured. “It’s ok.” He reached out a hand beaconing her over and after a brief pause she took it landing softly in front of him. “So, wanna tell me why you came down here?” he asked.

“It’s... uh..... it’s quiet,” Emily replied still not quite relaxed, though not wanting to let his hand go. Her gaze was fixed on their joined hands and her thumb slowly ran over his knuckles while she considered the rest of her response. Harry just stood quietly letting her compose herself. “It, uh.... it..... was the only place where, when all this.... started.... where I figured, I’d have the best chance of,” she took a breath not having noticed she had been holding it and took the opportunity to quickly iron out what she was rambling on about. “I figured it’d be the best place to get any kind of... I dunno, hint or, glimmer of progress to getting home to my Earth. It.... also gave to opportunity to.... get away from Eobard.” Her eyes were still glued to his hand and he got the feeling she really didn’t want to make eye contact.

“Did it work?” He asked attempting to catch her gaze. “Getting any hints I mean.”

Emily shook her head. “No, not really. Flukes here and there but, not enough to give definitive evidence. Kind of like the wow signal.” After a brief pause she finally looked up, Harry’s face softening a bit in response. “Now, that can’t be all you came down here for. So, why are you here?” she asked.

Harry froze for a second getting distracted by her eyes, they held so many emotions at once it was difficult to discern what her current one was. He smiled and cast his gaze down with a small chuckle. “Ok, you got me,” he said before meeting her gaze again. “When I came back to the front, you were gone. Aaaand, everyone was looking down an empty hall, and when Ralph said you didn’t say hi, I knew something must have been up. You always make a point of greeting the team.” Emily smiled a little, her worry lessening just a bit. “Sooo, I came to see if you were alright. That and, inform you of an idea me and the other subconscious Wells’ thought up.”

“Oh?” Emily remarked in surprise.

“Yup, though it wasn’t easy given Lothario and Wolfgang fighting. Mostly Wolfgang,” he replied a little sourly.

“I bet,” she mused relaxing a bit more. “I’m surprised Harrison the Gray didn’t come up, or Sony.”

“Oh, they did. They were actually surprisingly helpful.” Emily raised an eyebrow in disbelief. “Ok, maybe not so much the wizard,” Harry admitted, “but they did help get different perspectives, like with the DeVoe problem.”

“Good to know you still have your council friends,” Emily smiled. “So, what did they come up with?” Harry looked down at his feet trying to formulate his wording. “Well,” he began, “it involves you, being in the vicinity. Like an anchor point.” She looked at him somewhat confused. “Look, it’s a mess.... in there. And, given your relatively strong connection to him, especially recently, it should help aim him in the right direction at the very least.”

“You really think that’ll work?” Emily asked, hint of hopefulness in her question.

“Worked for me,” he said simply. Bemused, a small smile began to spread over Emily’s face before her features softened to her usual demeanor. “Is it.... selfish of me... to not want him to be successful?” he asked after a brief pause. She looked at him a little confused. “What?” she asked cocking her head to one side.

“Is it wrong I don’t want it to work?” he asked again. Emily frowned sympathetically at him and sighed. “Harry...”

“It’s just,” he continued, “I feel like..... I feel like I.... lost time. So much time. Time grieving, being bitter, being so focused in being overly protective of Jessie, throwing my all at Flash problems, being scared...” Emily pulled him into a hug and just held him; she listened to his heart beat and his breathing become heavy with him explaining himself and trying to keep his composure. “Do you.... blame me?” He asked softly. She stayed quiet but he didn’t really need her to answer out loud. He knew what she would say.

“Do you know.... what my mom, told me? When I left home?” Emily asked after a long pause. “She said, when I told her I wouldn’t be able to come home for a very long while, when I told her it was for her safety, she said it was ok. And, it would be ok because, because she would keep me in a special place in her heart.” She rubbed her cheek on his chest and sighed deeply, Harry engulfing her in a firm hug. “So, whenever she was sad, she would go to that special place and.... it wouldn’t be so bad. And I did the same.”

“So, are you saying I should just be ok with this?”

Emily looked up and shook her head. “No, not completely anyway. I don’t expect you to, but, maybe.... this can make it a little easier?” He sighed heavily placing a hand on her cheek to gently stroke it. “I suppose,” he relented as his face softened. “Though it’s going to be incredibly difficult to come to terms with not being able to touch you anymore.”Emily smiled cheekily. “I’m sure Nash can cover that front.” He frowned unamused making her stick her tongue out playfully. “Not. Helpful,” he said dryly. Emily grinned wide prompting Harry to squeeze her in a hug again. “I’m going to miss this,” he lamented. She buried her face into him squeezing back before he let go. “Alright, ready to go get Nash?” She nodded slipping her hand into his as they turned to head toward the elevator. They rode up in silence but Emily was still tense, her hand alternating between squeezing and a relaxed grip and sticking particularly close to his side.

As they exited the open steel doors and made their way down the hall, which felt like the longest ever hike to Emily, Harry could feel her pulse in her hand from how high her blood pressure had spiked due to worry and stress. He gave a gentle squeeze to distract her just enough to earn her gaze. “Hey,” he said with a low almost raspy voice. “You really think the brightest minds of the former multiverse and the most stubborn geologist treasure hunter can’t pull this off?” She paused, then smiled for a moment before worry took over her face again. “No, I suppose not,” she admitted. “You’re all too stubborn to fail.” Harry smirked as they rounded the corner, everyone in the medical bay waiting for their return. Cisco smiled gently in welcome and one by one, everyone else mirrored it.

“We’re sorry we didn’t realize how not ok you were with developments,” Caitlyn apologized.

“I think I did pretty well, all things considered,” Emily responded trying to mellow her nerves.

“Ready to put it all behind you?” Cisco asked holding up the neural device. Emily glanced up at Harry who smiled down at her. “Ready when you are,” he said resolute. She took a deep breath and nodded, Harry releasing her hand to approach Cisco giving him a half wink indicating he was ready. They all walked into the med bay, Harry sitting on the gurney to get the device affixed and Emily lingering outside the door a bit.

“Now, this isn’t quite synced to Nash’s brainwaves,” Cisco explained pointing to the thing in his hand before carefully attaching it to Harry’s forehead. “It will gradually get there, but it’s starting at one similar to yours in order to ease the transition.” Harry nodded in understanding before looking at Emily. “I’m ready,” he said to no one in particular before Cisco initiated the program. Harry’s body became rigid and his eyes dilated as he stared into nothing, Cisco and Caitlyn monitoring his brainwaves closely and Emily, now barely breathing, felt worry begin to bubble again. “How are you feeling?” Caitlyn asked flicking her eyes between her tablet and Harry.

“It’s.... strange,” Harry managed to grunt out. It seemed like he was experiencing a measure of discomfort, and Emily hoped it wasn’t accompanied by pain. “M-my body feels.... fuzzy,” he continued. “No.... not fuzzy..... like static.”

“Is that.... good?” Emily asked.

“Well, it’s not bad,” Caitlyn tried comforting. “All the readings are within safe measure, blood pressure and pulse a little elevated but nothing too concerning.”

“Device still working perfectly,” Cisco added. “And it looks like his brainwaves are beginning to iron themselves out.”

“Snow....” Harry grunted again. “I think.... I’m about to...” his sentence was cut short as his consciousness was pulled from the front. The room was tense as his eyes went blank, his head lulled forward a bit but his body continued to stay rather rigid. Caitlyn and Cisco continued vigilant monitoring of the readings as Emily held her breath not daring to drop her gaze. A few more tense seconds passed before Harry inhaled sharply becoming alert again startling the group. “Harry?” Cisco nearly shouted in question. “Ah, no,” his voice said in yet one more curious variation. “Sherloque, but don’t.....worry. I’m just..... a placeholder. Nash.... Nash got swept away. Don’t.... worry, I’m here to.... help him get.... settled again.” His head fell back and alarms started going off sending panic shooting through Emily as Cisco and Caitlyn began to scramble. Ralph stood close to her in order to act as a grounding presence, hoping to distract her even just slightly. “Guys, what’s going on?” He asked for her.

“Working on it,” Cisco responded in stress and annoyance as he started making adjustments, Caitlyn was doing the same as she began regretting what they were doing. Emily’s eyes began to swell with tears as her stress started hitting an all time high even making Ralph become uncharacteristically tense. Sherloque shuddered making a loud noise causing the whole room jump, the alarms still going off as he fought to catch his breath. He placed a hand on his head and leaned back, the alarms finally stopping after a moment, and everyone stared in anticipation.

“Ugh, my head,” he complained. “It’s killing me.”

“Sherloque?” Caitlyn asked tentatively.

He shook his head. “No, no. It’s Nash, I’m back. Has it always been this bright in here?” He looked around the room as everyone started laughing in relief and his gaze landed on Emily. “Hey,” he said with a smile, one eye still closed from the headache. “Hey...” Emily replies in a raspy voice, the wave of relief threatening to push the tears over the point of no return and start an ugly crying event. She shuffled over to him and wrapped him in a tight hug burying her face into his chest. “Hwa- hey. Hey, careful. I have to remember how to breathe again,” he chuckled. “I’m just glad you found your way back,” she said quietly. Nash smiled down at her placing his hand on her back trying to comfort and calm her strained breathing from fighting her impending breakdown.

“We’ll have to keep him for observation for a few days,” Caitlyn said finally pulling her attention away from the readings. “Just to be on the safe side.”

“Yeah, you know, make sure his brain is just on one track,” Cisco added. “And wont do any mental gymnastics.” Emily turned to face them and nodded still keeping hold of Nash. “Yeah, ok. Understandable.”

“You pretty much live here anyway,” Ralph chimed in from the doorway. “So you’ll get word immediately if he needs anything. Or, you know, somethin goes wrong. Which it won’t, not with Caitlyn, Frost and Cisco on the look out.” Having finally let go of Nash, Emily turned to Ralph and made a face though understood he was trying to reassure her in his own way. Shortly after, Barry walked in having become curious of the gathering. “Hey guys,” he said glancing at everyone before settling on Nash. “Everything ok, Harry?”

“Ah, yeah but, not Harry,” Nash replied. “I’m Nash again, the one and only. Good as new too.”

“So far,” Caitlyn followed. “We’re keeping an eye on him for a while just in case.”

“Oh, ok. Yeah, that makes sense. Good to have you back Nash,” Barry concludes with a smile. Nash smiled back before glancing over to Emily who resigned to gently lay her hand over one of his. “Yeah, good to be back. So, I guess I’ll be the one staying over your place for a change,” he said with a wink turning his full attention to Emily. She raises an eyebrow trying hard to keep an amused smile from appearing. “Yeah, I suppose you will.”

“Will make it a lot easier to make visiting hours too,” he said raising his eyebrows. Emily’s smirk spreads a little more as her battle to keep a straight face was beginning to fail. “Mhmm, yeah that’s true,” she agreed

“Aannnd, well, given Caitlyn, or should I say Frost, will be busy with.... you know.... Flash things..... she might need....”

“Help?” Emily cut off. “So what, you want me to play nurse?” Nash blinked for a moment and froze, silent smiles adorned the faces around the room. “I..... uh.... well....” he stuttered before Emily finally broke into a smile. “As much as I would love to do that for you, I don’t want to compromise your recovery.” Nash raised an eyebrow in confusion as she glanced behind him toward Caitlyn who was catching on to what she was getting at. “Such distractions could hinder progress,” she continued, “but I’ll be sure to visit often. Don’t worry.”

“It’s true,” Caitlyn added. “Considering the circumstances in which it happened, we don’t want to risk too much of the similar stimulus doing the same thing,” She concluded and winked at Emily.

“Wh- bu-“ he stuttered. She winked sticking her tongue out a little leaving him defeated before gently patting his cheek continuing to smile. “But seriously, Nash, I want you to rest so you can get better as fast as you can. Alright?” He huffed but relented, placing his hand over the one on his cheek. “Ok.”

“So!” Emily said suddenly surprising Nash, “I’m gonna go pop over to your place and make sure it’s all squared away while you’re recovering and then I’ll be right back. Ok?”

“Hurry back,” he replied contentedly with a smile. With one last grin Emily popped away through a wormhole leaving Nash to settle in. Frost, who had resumed control once again, had taken over setting up monitoring his recovery progress. Her bedside manners had improved though she still wasn’t much of a fan of his jokes. Mostly because she didn’t really get them. None-the-less, she kept pleasant conversation with him, pleasant for her anyway, during her setting up and he did his best to behave. When Emily returned about two hours later, she hung around him far more often that she teased she would; not that he minded. She did give him plenty of down time to just rest and let his mind be calm which, after a while, he was rather grateful for. Maybe she does know more of this science stuff than she thinks and has led everyone to believe.

After having awoken late that evening, not even realizing he dozed off in the first place, he found the lab was dark and quiet. Momentarily taking stock of his surroundings he was somewhat startled to hear breathing and light snoring near by, finding Emily had *somehow* managed to curl up on a near by chair and fall asleep. He still had no idea how she could bend the way she did and was always in awe of the new stretches she seemed to come up with in her sleep. He smiles amused before noticing someone in his peripheral startling him again. Only when he recognized his own face but on another body did he relax. “Jee-zus!” he nearly screeched. “Honestly, I know you’re in my head and all but do you *really* have to do that?”

The figure just stands quietly making it difficult which Wells personality has come up let alone where he’s looking. “I apologize,” he said taking a step forward. “It took quite a lot to get here.”

“Ah, Harry,” he recognized. “Nice to see your face again. Or, well, mine...” Harry just sighed not amused with his attempt at a joke. “How are you feeling?” He asked Nash though still not quite making eye contact. Nash scratches his head in brief thought. “Well, the headaches aren’t so bad, and my head doesn’t feel fuzzy anymore,” he attempted at small talk. “So, why are you....?” He began asking.

“Take care of her, alright?” Harry interrupted. Nash pauses finally realizing Harry is looking at the sleeping Emily in the chair. “Uh, yeah. Obviously,” Nash began. “No, I mean it,” Harry interrupted again. “Take good care of her, understand?” Nash paused again somewhat confused just looking at him. Harry had glared at him infusing his last sentence with command before it softened and drifted back to Emily. “She’s a good one, a really good one,” he said somberly. “So if you do anything to hurt her, or don’t protect her, or otherwise make her angry enough to leave, so help me I will—“

“Who, hey, relax!” Nash defended flinching at the sudden two step charge Harry made. He may be a projection of his mind but his reflexes still registered a potential punch to the face. Could mental punches even hurt? “I knooowww, alright!” he said bracing himself. Emily stirred at the raised voice making both of them freeze. Once she settled back down Nash let out his held breath turning his attention back to Harry. “I know, ok? You don’t think I do? That’s why it took me so long to even say anything.” Harry paused thoughtfully finally giving Nash attention and not just fleetingly. “Yeah, I know,” he agreed quietly. “We had a conversation about it, over brownies no less.”

Nash smiled. “Yeah, she makes some really good brownies doesn’t she?” Harry smiles in affirmation. “Don’t worry, I’ll protect her to my best ability.”

“Good,” Harry concludes. “Because, it’s not so much I’m worried about her getting seriously injured; she’s really quite capable of doing that even when not in dire situations; but rather, if she does wind up getting hurt even if not in a physical way, she’s more than capable of beating your ass for it.” Nash froze and his face fell having never really thought of that making Harry chuckle and smirk. “So yeah, don’t make her mad. Understand?” Nash nods. “Yeah, yeah sure thing.” Harry chuckles one last time before disappearing. “Be glad she likes you,” he says with a wave.

Nash sits quietly in his bed going over what Harry had said. While he was very well aware what a catch she was, he never really considered how lucky he was, as well as the team, that she had become so fond of them. Her abilities were still not fully explained or explored, even in her own words, and from what they had observed so far would make her quite the formidable enemy should she so choose. He looked over at the chair she was in again, once again observing a new and more strange contortion, and smiled. “Yeah, lucky me.”

————————••••••••————————

~Fin~

[what-is-your-plan-today]

Stark Spangled Banner Ch 57: We’re In The Endgame Now

Intro The Time Heist worked, but at a cost. Natasha gave her life for the Soul Stone. Following a promise to make her sacrifice worth something, the Avengers continued their plan and succeeded in reversing the Snap. But along with everyone else, the biggest threat the Avengers have ever faced re-appeared.

Thanos.

 Now Steve and Katie, along with the rest of their team are locked in a fearsome battle, between light and dark, life and death. Simply put, it’s a battle which they cannot afford to lose because they’re in the Endgame now…

Warnings:

“Language!” 

Character death. Please have your tissues ready…there’s gonna be tears.

Pairing: Steve Rogers x OFC Katie Stark

Stark Spangled Banner Masterlist

So…I’m REALY nervous about this one!! I hope I do it justice. It flits between perspectives so I hope you can follow it, and used a lot of visuals too...  Please re-blog and leave your thoughts xxx

"Baby…” Steve heard Katie’s voice, it was desperate, shattered, and something else inside him broke even more. “You gotta get up…” she pleaded, shaking his shoulder, “Come on…”

Steve grit his teeth as he rolled to the side, Katie’s hand still on his shoulder as he rest against his forearm, trying to muster the strength to get up.

“Come on…” Katie whispered, “We need to try, keep him distracted until Tony and Thor come round….hopefully the others can find their way back to the surface. And then if we can get the stones we can end this.” It was a long shot, beyond long in fact. Steve knew that. Katie knew that. But whilst there was hope…no matter how small a hope it was, or how beaten they felt, they had to try. Steve turned his head to look over his shoulder at his wife. Her face plate was open and there were tears streaking down her cheeks. She looked at him and then glanced to her left, and he saw utter hatred and fear cloud her pretty face.

“In all my years of conquest, violence, slaughter... it was never personal.” Thanos spoke as Katie and Steve both glared at him, from their vantage point on the floor, Katie almost shielding Steve with her body as she knelt by his side. “But I'll tell you now, what I'm about to do to your stubborn, annoying little planet...I'm gonna enjoy it. Very, very much.”

And then, as they watched, behind Thanos, a blue light shot down and when it dissipated it left what looked like thousands of soldiers stood in rows. Thanos had brought his entire army. The so called Children of Thanos, Chitauri, those damned dog things they had fought in Wakanda...

Katie took a shaky breath, and let out a sob as she realised that any hope they had was gone. They might have, just might have stood a chance against Thanos alone, but not against his full army. She locked eyes with his Steve before he looked down at the ground, away from her eyes.  More of her tears fell as she understood this was it. This was the end. For them, for their kids, for the world.

According to some, there’s a calm serenity that descends on you when you know you’re time is up. But Steve didn’t feel calm, he felt anger, hatred…all towards himself. This was down to him, he’d brought this upon his family, his friends…he should have left those fucking stones in the past and dealt with his feelings of failure. Instead, here he was, a failure again. Beaten on a battlefield by the very man they actually killed some 5 years previously that was now about to wipe out the entire world. How fucked up was that?

“We are not going like this…” Katie said, openly sobbing as she shook her head, looking from Steve to the assembled army. “Not like this. We stand up, and we go fighting, you hear me?”

“You always get up Stevie, ya hear?” his Ma looked at him, wiping the blood from his split lip, ignoring his flinch. “No matter how hard they hit ya, you never give them the satisfaction of stayin’ down, lad, never. You push back, and eventually they’ll realise that they can’t fight forever...”

He glanced at the broken shield on his arm, swallowing as he remembered Jamie looking at him when he told him he used to be Captain America. His beautiful baby boy’s eyes that were so like Steve’s mother’s, wide with awe, and pride.

“You were Captain America?” Jamie frowned. “When you fighted with the Avengers?”

“Yeah” he sighed, running his hand through Jamie’s golden hair “I was.”

“Are you now?”

“I dunno.” Steve said, glancing back at his shield.

“I think you are” Jamie cocked his head to one side as his hand reached out to touch the shield. “Because Cap’s a hero and you’re my hero”

Well fuck this. Katie was right, his Ma was right. If he was going, then he was going down fighting. Alongside his best gal, his partner, the woman who gave him more strength than any serum ever could.

He pushed himself to his feet, teeth grit, fierce determination across every line on his face. With a shaking hand he tightened the leather straps on his broken shield around his arm and stood tall, turning to Katie.

“I love you.” he choked out, holding out his right hand to grip her left “’til the end of the line.” She turned to him, her eyes streaming with tears before she reached up and pulled his face to hers, pressing a fierce kiss to his lips.

“The very end…” she stuttered out, before they turned to face their death.

Man and Wife walked slowly towards Thanos, who simply stood, his head cocked to his right. They’d barely made it 4 foot however, when their communicators started crackling.

“Hey, Cap, you read me?”

It was faint…and broken…but it was a voice they hadn’t heard in 5 years other than in their nightmares about that fateful day they failed in Wakanda. A voice they would never forget. 

Sam.

Both of them stopped dead, Steve’s mouth dropped open and he looked at Katie, raising a shaking hand to his head in an attempt to press the comms piece further into his ear. They both turned to each other, their faces shocked, not quite sure whether to believe if they were hearing things or...

“Cap, it's Sam. Can you hear me?”

Both Katie and Steve’s chests rose and fell deeply as they tried to understand where Sam was. They knew Banner's snap had worked, but surely if everyone came back where they had vanished then they should be in Wakanda. Nevertheless, Steve instinctively glanced upwards, and Sam spoke again.

“On your left.”

They both turned, seeing a sparkling yellow circle to the left of Steve. As they watched, utterly dumbfounded, three figures stepped through and Katie realised from their Silhouettes alone who it was- Okoye, Shuri, and T’Challa in his full Black Panther garb. Katie’s hand flew to her mouth as T'Challa's mask faded away to look at Steve. The soldier breathed shakily and relieved and thankful smile broke through the filth and grime that covered his face. T'Challa gave him a small nod, before he turned to Katie and bowed slightly, the way he always did.

Katie’s breathing suddenly became erratic as she gripped Steve’s hand and the sobs began again, but this time they were punctuated by laughs, laughs and stutters of utter relief which turned into a yell of pure joy when Sam zoomed in above them in his Falcon armour. They watched as he flew and circled back round, Katie ’hands flying into the back of her hair, gripping as she doubled over and sobbed, simply unable to believe it. 

Steve could do nothing but watch in a relieved, thankful and astounded awe as dozens and dozens more portals opened up all around the battlefield. He knew who the man that descended at the front was- Doctor Strange and he was joined by 3 people he also knew to be Rocket’s friends- The Guardians of the Galaxy- then came Spider-Man, his mask flopping down to reveal an alive and well Peter Parker behind it. Katie tore her eyes away to look for Tony who was now sitting up, a look of utter shock on his face. He found her eyes and gave a small twitch of his mouth as he scrambled to his feet, and turned to Thor who was now grinning ear to ear as he watched the portal that was bringing Valkyrie and the Asgardian army to their aid. Katie could heard chanting now and she turned to see the full Wakandan Army stepping through another portal headed by Bucky. The number of people arriving to support the Avengers rose as Dr Strange continued to conjure portals, and Katie screamed as a familiar red energy alerted them both to Wanda’s appearance, where she landed not far from Bucky, her eyes blazing. And then, with a clang Pepper landed a few feet away from Katie clad in her own Iron Suit and Tony joined them, shooting his wife a proud look. Finally there was a loud roaring, crashing noise and Katie and Steve spun to see Scott Lang as the Giant-Ant Man emerging from the rubble with Banner, Rhodey, Rocket and Clint. 

The group of thousands behind Katie and Steve up their fighting stances, brandishing whatever weapons or powers they had, Steve looked around, almost bursting into tears himself at the emotions flooding his chest. He glanced at his wife who looked back, wiping her eyes, her breathing still deep as she couldn’t quite believe how all these people had come to help. Steve didn’t either, but all he knew was they had. And now they were almost if not completely equal on numbers. And they had hope once more.

In fact, they had more than hope. They had a chance. And that was good enough for the Captain. He’d beaten worse odds before, and he was damned sure they could do it again, especially when he turned to look at Thanos and saw for the first time something that looked like fear, apprehension even on the Titan’s face.

He turned to face Katie again as she gave him a nod.

“Call it Captain…” she said, her voice full of determination as her face plate slid back into place.

And call it he did.

“AVENGERS!” his cry echoed across the battle field as he held out his hand, summoning Mjolnir to his palm. Thor landed by his side just as the hammer slapped into Steve’s glove and he glared up at Thanos, his teeth grit with utter determination “ –Assemble.”

Behind him Thor gave a loud battle cry as did Black Panther and the Avengers’ army began to charge. Katie, Tony and Pepper flying almost in formation as they sped forward. Almost instantly the two sides collided violently, and the fighting began. Bullets, beams, punches, kicks, knives, spears, all flying and smashing against one another. The air was filled with yells, grunts and the clanging of metal against metal.

Thor and Steve found themselves fighting off a large group of the dog like creatures and somehow Steve ended up holding Stormbreaker. Not for long, because that belonged to Thor. His Thanos killing axe. No way was the God of Thunder letting the Captain wield that. 

“No no, give me that…”  he held out his hand, tossing him Mjolnir. "You can have the little one," 

Katie, Tony and Pepper were circling back to back in a 3, their booster beams shooting at anything and everything, spiralling into groups of the warriors, helping anyone they could. Katie spotted that Clint was swamped a little so she flew down, freeing him before she shot into the air and found herself flying along side Sam.

“Mrs R…”he turned to face her and she gave him a nod.

“Good to see you Sammy…” she smiled.

“You know me, never one to miss a good fire fight!” he smirked, shooting his semi-autos at something that was flying into the air in front of him.

Tony shot down, barrelling into a group of Chitauri warriors, just like he had in New York. With a whoop he scattered them like bowling pins, landing and shooting off guns and beams, before something hit him hard on the side of the head and sent him flying. He landed, and pushed himself up on his elbows ready to fight but at the same time the Giant Ant-Man crushed his assailant.

And then, the kid was there. Peter was running straight to Tony. In the suit Tony had made for him. The Billionaire blinked, retracting his helmet as Pete’s usual, incessant and enthusiastic rambles filled his ear.

“Hey! Holy cow! You will not believe what's been going on. Do you remember when we were in space? And I got all dusty? I must've passed out ‘cause I woke up, and you were gone. But Doctor Strange was there, right? He was like, "It's been five years. Come on, they need us." And then he started doing the yellow sparkly thing that he does all the time..” he started using two fingers to demonstrate Strange's swirl in the air but Tony stopped him, the emotions of seeing the kid alive again were swirling in his chest, and with watery eyes he stepped forward and pulled the kid into a hug.

“What are you doing?...” Peter said, shocked at his mentor’s display of affection before he hugged Tony back. “This is nice”

The fight raged on and on and on. But no one gave up, they knew they had no option but to win this, for the sake of everything and everyone on the planet, and none more than Steve, who was fighting with every goddamned bit of strength he had to get back to his kids and his wife and finally buy that fucking holiday home in Orlando that Katie had been eyeing up.

Across the field he could just about make out Clint, who was sprinting like his life depended on it. Which, in fairness, it did. The gauntlet was clutched to his chest and he spoke into his comms, asking his leader for instructions.

“Cap, what do you want me to do with this damn thing?”

“Get those stones as far away as possible!” Steve instructed, punching another creature in the head.

“No!” Banner yelled back “We need to get them back where they came from.”

“No way to get them back” Tony sighed “Thanos destroyed the quantum tunnel”

“Hold on…” Lang spoke, and Steve saw the 100 foot or so man shrink out of the air "That wasn't our only time machine!"

The sound of Scott’s van horn, rang out across the battle ground and Steve immediately ran up to higher ground, trying to spot the van, following the noise.  

"Anyone see an ugly, brown van up there?" Steve asked, looking up.

Katie shot above him and he watched her as she circled over the fighting armies before she stopped, hovering and pointing down underneath her

“Yes!” She yelled victoriously, as Valkyrie flew alongside her on her winged horse, shooting her a look.

“You're not going to like where it's parked!” The Asgardian finished, pointing her spear to it.

Tony flew up into the air shooting another Chitauri warrior off his…well, whatever the hell you called those flying scooter things before he glanced down at Lang.

“Scott, how long you need to get that thing working?”

“Maybe ten minutes”. 

“Get it started.” Rogers instructed  We'll get the stones to you.”

And then as Tony watched, ready to cover Lang as he broke for it, a woman materialised next to him. Nothing should surprise Tony anymore, nothing, but it did. And he had absolutely no idea why.

“We're on it, Cap.” she spoke softly, before they pair of them shrunk again and FRIDAY kept a lock on them as they flew away, no bigger than ants.

Ok, so maybe Lang didn’t need covering after all. Tony watched them via FRIDAYS scanners as they flew towards the van, and saw Katie and Pepper fighting in tandem, the pair of them bringing down a huge Chituari beast that looked like a gorilla. He grinned at the sight of his wife and sister kicking ass, and then spotted Strange in the corner of his eye, trapping a load of Chitauri in his magic, sending them through portals. Recalling the conversation they had on Titan, he had to know and so he landed, turning to look at the Wizard.

“Hey. You said one out of 14 million, we win, yeah?” he asked, glancing around “Tell me this is it.” 

“If I tell you what happens, it won't happen” Strange said back, and Tony groaned. Jesus this man was infuriating. 

“You better be right.” Tony shot back, pointing an iron clad finger at him.

As Scott was hot-wiring his van, because of course it was dead, the fight was raging on and the gauntlet was in some kind of relay across the battle field towards them. T’Challa took it off Clint and as Thanos advanced on the black Panther, Wanda landed in front of him, her eyes blazing. She then began to fight Thanos furiously, and she seemed to be getting the upper hand as bits of his armour began to peel off him as he hovered in the air, surrounded by her red power. Wanda was attempting to tear him apart. 

In desperation Thanos gave the instruction for his ships to fire down on the battle field, not caring that his own troops would also be hit. As the missiles began to hit the ground, everyone tried to dodge as best they could. Strange and the rest of his troops held up their arms conjuring magic shields to attempt to keep the troops on the ground as sheltered as possible. Katie and Pepper employing evasive manoeuvres as they sped across the sky, until a large explosion caught their attention and they glanced over to the bank of the river. One of the missiles from the ship had blasted part of it away and the water was now rushing up and over the edge and threatening to flood the canyon the battle was taking place in. After a nervous shout from Pepper, Strange jumped to it and conjured up his power, capturing the water in some kind of magic and holding it still. 

“Where are the stones?” Katie asked frantically, circling above, still dodging the fire. And Steve had to admit, he’d kinda like to know as well. It was then that they both heard Peter Parker yelling, and they realised he had the gauntlet.

"I got this…” there was a scuffle "Ok, I don't got this. Help! Somebody! Help!"

"Hey Queens," Steve said, "Heads up!" He took a couple steps forward flung Mjolnir through the air. Peter shot his web at it, and it catapulted him through the air where Katie caught him.  

"Hang on, I got you Spider-Kid!" she said, as they flew through the air and she tossed him to Valkyrie as she flew past. But her horse was hit by the fire from Thanos’ ship and Peter was blasted to the floor.

“Tony, have you any idea how we can shut that thing down?” Katie asked desperately, looking at the ship. They needed that damned thing out of order to stand any chance. The missiles were coming even harder now, and Steve dove to take cover behind a rock.

And then, all the noise stopped, and the cannons on the ship lifted upward and they began to fire into the sky.

“What the hell is this?” Sam asked, as he flew along side Katie.

"FRIDAY, what are they firing at?" Tony asked, his voice slightly worried.

"Something just entered the upper atmosphere," FRIDAY replied in both Tony and Katie’s ear.

Then a huge, bright ball of pulsating energy came surging down straight through the ship, and then back up through it again.

“DANVERS!” Katie yelled, watching as the woman hovered above the fast descending ship as it crash-landed in the lake.

"Now that’s how to make an entrance," she, glanced at her brother where he was hovering not far away from her. He turned to look at her, and even though she couldn’t see his face she knew he was rolling his eyes.

"I used to make a perfectly fine entrance, thank you Kiddo…”

"Danvers," Steve glanced up, hardly able to keep the smile of his face, even though he knew this was far from over. But Thanos was looking worried now, he could see from the Titan’s body language, and that was enough of a boost for the Super Soldier to sweep back into Captain mode, they could win this...

“We could use an assist here…” he looked up.

“What on?” Carol asked, flying towards Katie.

“We need to get the stones to the brown van…” Katie said, circling and then she spotted Peter who was crouched in a crater, the gauntlet tight within his arms. Gesturing to Carol she landed by Peter, her helmet sliding away and Carol gently dropped besides her and looked down at Peter..

"Hi. I'm Peter Parker," he said, looking up at her, his nose blooded.

Carol smirked, almost flirtatiously. "Hey Peter Parker. Got something for me?"

Peter pushed himself up and handed her the gauntlet, before he looked at the Army who was crawling towards them. “I don't know how you're gonna get it through all that” he said quietly.

Wanda then landed next to Katie and glanced around, her red power surrounding her.  “Don't worry.” the Sokovian woman said as Valkyrie landed on her winged horse 

“She's got help” Okoye said stepping up as she looked around. 

“Where’s Nat?” Wanda asked as Pepper landed next to Okoye. Katie hung her head slightly as she looked at her, as more and more of the women from the battle landed in front of them- Mantis, then Shuri  Hope, Gamora and Nebula.

“She didn’t make it Wan…” Katie said gently, and she heard Okoye gasp and then realised that no one had told the Warrior “She didn’t make it back from the mission to get the stones.” Okoye spun her shield in her hands, her face stoney as she eyed up the army which was advancing on them. “Then this…this is for her…” The Wakandan woman said, turning to Katie who nodded.

And then they attacked. Thanos' army charged while the women helped Carol Danvers go through the swarm of aliens, Chitauri, animals alike. Okoye took out the larger fighter that Katie recognised from the train station in Edinburgh as Wanda, her, Pepper and Valkyrie destroyed two leviathans. Carol Danvers then started flying towards the van with the Gauntlet, at a rate of knots, going through every blockade that was in her way with ease. Thanos, seeing this, started running towards her.

“We gotta cover Danvers!” Katie yelled as she flew down, followed by Pepper as Shuri and Hope also stood tall, the 4 of them unloading their various weapons and succeeding in blasting Thanos backwards. Danvers sped past him, but through the heat and flash of various beams and weapons, no one spotted him launching the half of his sword towards the van until it was too late. 

Steve felt the explosion and looked up at the huge flash of light, seeing Danvers being catapulted back through the air, her grip on the gauntlet lost and it fell to the ground. Then, it was almost like time slowed down as Thanos paused, looking at the Gauntlet, at the same time as Tony sat up and did the same. As Steve sprinted towards the pair of them Tony went to tackle him from behind only to be batted away to the side somewhere. Steve continued to sprint, he was almost there, almost…and then Thor landed swinging his lightning covered axe at the Titan before his hammer flew into his hand and he used both weapons to hold Thanos at bay. Steve threw himself on Thanos’ back grabbing at the axe, pulling with all his might in an attempt to slice it straight through Thanos’ neck. But it was to no avail. With a might head-butt Thanos sent Thor sprawling backwards and he reached up and pulled Steve off him, flinging him through the air like a rag doll. He landed hard, his head colliding with something, and he was out cold.

“Steve!” Katie saw him go flying, and was about to go after him, but she saw Thanos reaching for the gauntlet. Surging her suit forwards she shot at him, desperation flooding her system, and she kept her beam going as she flew down. Her fingers grazed the gauntlet before a harsh kick to her head sent her flipping back and through the air with no control over her flight plan. She landed heavily, groaning as she felt blood trickle down her temple. She had taken a bad hit there and felt herself zoning in and out, the sounds of the battle muting slightly as she lay on her back, her helmet flying open as she took deep gulps of air before it all went black. 

Tony, meanwhile, had come to. He sat up, and saw that Thanos and Danvers were locked in combat, Danvers’ hands were both wrapped round Thanos’ left and Tony could see that he now had the gauntlet. They were so close, surely…surely not. He couldn’t snap again. He grimaced as Thanos went to head but the woman, but nothing. It simply bounced off the energy surrounding her. And Tony felt a glimmer of hope, maybe she was their secret weapon. The one in 14 million, 605 that meant they were gonna win. As he watched she surged upwards, forcing Thanos to his knees but the Titan pulled the Power Stone out of the gauntlet and clutching it in his right hand he hit Danvers hard and she flew through the air, landing harshly. With pure desperation, Tony turned to look at Strange who was watching him. The magician simply raised one finger, which was trembling slightly. Trembling, Tony assumed, because the one win he foresaw was now at risk. But as he looked at the man, Strange’s eyes filled with sadness and Tony realised that it wasn’t Carol he saw winning the battle after all.

It was him. 

And then he understood completely. And he knew what he had to do. With a deep breath, resigned to his fate he threw himself at the Titan. 

With a heavy moan, Katie sat up, just in time to see Tony grappling with Thanos. With an angry cry she fired her suit up again and shot forwards, but as she did Thanos cast aside her brother easily. She bore down on him she shooting her beams, using her boosters and everything she had, but once again she was forced to quit after one of the Chitauri Leviathons came straight for her. She just managed to dodge it by shooting to the right, but was caught heavily by one of its fins and for the second time in as many minutes she was spiralling though the air with no control. The heads up display in her helmet flickered slightly and there was ringing in her ears mingled with FRIDAY’s desperate calls. The ground was rising to meet her but just in time she managed to pull herself round and righted herself in the air. Spinning round she saw Tony knelt up, his helmet retracted as he stared at the Titan, who was leering down over him with a twisted grin on his face.

“I am inevitable…”He said. It was the second time she had heard him say that.  And then he rose his hand which bore the gauntlet.

Katie’s desperate scream echoed around her helmet as she hovered in mid-air and before she could so much as move, the Titan snapped. But instead of the beams of light and the shaking of the ground that had happened when Bruce did it. There was nothing. Katie’s face plate slid back, because the thought the displays were damaged but her eyes widened as Thanos glanced down at his gauntlet. She realised at the same time he did that the stones were missing. And then, as if in slow motion, the pieces started to slot into place, both figuratively and mentally.

Tony knelt tall, the stones twirling round his hand. Lights circled his forearm and bicep and he let out a loud yell, the utter pain and power consumed him. It bore into every cell on his body and took everything he had inside him to keep himself upright. This was it the end that he always knew he was going to meet. And strangely, he wasn’t scared. Not for him anyway, this was his destiny… the only way it would ever end.

“We’re in the Endgame now...”

Morgan’s face flashed across Tony’s mind, then Pepper’s, then his sister’s as his head fell back, the power surging up his arm and shoulder. Pulling his head up with an almighty wrench, his eyes locked on those belonging to the Thanos and he could feel the stones vibrating on his gauntlet, humming, almost like they knew what was coming. Maybe they did. 

The bastards words echoed in his mind. “I am inevitable.”

Well, eat shit you fucker…

His eyes flickered to his sister, who was watching the entire event unfold, paralysed in mid-air behind the Titan, her helmet retracted and mouth open in a silent scream. With a soft smile he then turned back to the Titan and looked him square in the face, speaking with the most conviction he could ever remember having.

“And I…am…Iron Man.”

He raised his fingers, concentrating on what he wanted to happen, and snapped. The power surge made Tony collapse forward, his skin was burning and his throat felt like it was being closed off. He pushed himself to his feet, hand clutched to the arc reactor in his chest as he tried to speak into his Comms, but the words wouldn’t come. Staggering a few feet, he stumbled to a large upturned piece of concrete laced with rebar before he collapsed against it, hard.

Steve who had just got to his feet was aware of a bright flash of light and the vibrating of the ground underneath him and new instantly that someone had snapped. He spun round in desperate hope it wasn’t Thanos, and then as he saw one of the animals bearing down on him he braced himself, aiming a hard punch to it’s head. But he connected with nothing. He paused, his eyes widening, mouth falling open in shock as he watched Thanos’ army turn to dust all around the field and he realised that they’d won. It wasn’t Thanos who had snapped, it was one of them. With a relieved sigh, he wheeled around expecting to see Thor or Banner with the gauntlet, his mouth suddenly going dry as he realised the effect it had on Banner the last time but they were nowhere to be found. And that was when he spotted his wife, deactivating her suit as she ran, scrambling over piles of concrete and stones to get to someone.

Tony’s breathing was laboured and his eyes were full wide when Katie finally reached him, grabbing his gauntlet clad hand.

“Tony, come on…look at me…” He was done, he understood that. But they’d won. Morgan, Pepper, Kiddo, Jamie, Emmy, Steve…his family were all safe. The world was safe. He tried to speak, tried to tell her it was ok, that he accepted what was happening, but his voice was merely a whisper.

“I…”

“Shhh, save your strength…” Katie gently placed her hand on the side of his head, down the cheek which wasn’t badly burnt and she was aware that someone had landed next to her. Rhodey dropped to his knee gently, his hand falling to Tony’s shoulder as he looked at his friend, not saying a word. Katie turned to him, his eyes filling with tears.

“Mr Stark?” Peter Parker landed between her and Rhodey Katie turned back to her brother as his head collapsed against the concrete. “Hey Mr Stark, can you hear me…it’s Peter…” Tony’s face turned to the young man, a flash of recognition on his face as he tried to smile.

“We won…Mr Stark” Peter said, his breathing deep. “We won, you did it Sir, we did it…I’m sorry…don’t….” He began to cry as Tony’s head lolled to the side and then Katie was aware of someone else behind them, gently pulling Peter up and away. She turned to her right as Pepper crouched next to her. She gently squeezed Katie’s arm before she touched Tony on his shoulder, placing her other hand over the arc reactor on his chest.

“Hey…” she said softly.

“Pep…” he managed to whisper as his hand fell on top of hers and Katie placed her own over his.

“FRIDAY? ” Pepper spoke with a thick swallow, even though Katie knew there was no need to ask the AI. The stones had almost killed Thanos and Banner. Tony stood no chance. He was dying.

“Life functions are critical…” the AI spoke and Katie bowed her head, her tears falling to the ground.

“Tony…” Pepper said softly, and Katie looked back at her brother, who was smiling up at his wife. She gently smiled back, as he turned his head to his sister and she tried her hardest to keep it together.

“The stars…”He mumbled out, and Katie nodded chocking back a sob as she gripped his hand tighter, finishing the saying for him.

“And back…”

He turned back to Pepper who gently ran her hand up his arm “We’re gonna be ok” she said, her voice soft as she glanced at Katie

“We all are.” Katie assured him, sniffing slightly.

His head lolled back once more and Pepper spoke gently, this time her voice cracked. “You can rest now…” Her hand brushed his hair back from his temple as he lay so still, his eyes glanced over Katie’s shoulder to where Steve was stood, stock still, his own tears clouding his vision. He locked eyes with Tony who gave him the faintest of smiles. Steve nodded to him, his chest heaving with sorrow before his brother-in-law’s eyes stopped focussing and his body slumped. Steve saw Pepper bow her head next to Katie, and as his wife glanced down at her hand, still over the top of his, Steve saw the light go out in his chest.

He was gone.

Katie let out a soft sob as she removed her hand gently taking Tony’s with her. Kneeling up, she pressed her forehead against his, scrunching her face up against the physical pain that was brewing in her chest. Pepper leaned up to kiss his face as a silence fell around them, not one single sound coming from the battle field. Pepper dropped her head to Tony’s shoulder and then she too began to cry. Katie placed a soft kiss to his cheek, his skin still warm and bowed her head, listening to Pepper’s sobs through the silence of her own.

Steve limped forward, dropping heavily to his knees besides his wife “Katie…” he said softly, she turned to face him, noticing his eyes were red and the dirt on the parts of his face visible under his helmet were interlined with the tracks his own tears had made. The two looked at each other for a second, before her face crumpled and he wrapped his arms around her and she buried her face into his chest, her small body shaking with silent sobs, hands fisting around the Kevlar of his uniform. Steve lay his cheek against her head, his own tears pouring down his face as he held her to him. His eyes scanned immediate vicinity of the battle field and his eyes fell on Clint in the near distance, dropping to his knee, his head bowed, hand resting on his fist. In front of him T’challa did the same, then Carol, and the Bucky... everyone, all out of respect to their fallen warrior.  

Eventually it was Thor that broke the silence, but not by speaking. There was a huge rumble of thunder and Katie jumped, pulling back from Steve slightly, looking upwards as lighting flashed in the sky. The clouds that had descended with Thanos’ ship began to part slowly, a chink of the red sunset falling onto where Tony was sat, chinks of light bouncing off his Iron Man suit.

Katie turned away from Steve and gently reached out with a shaking hand to close Tony’s eyes

“There, he could be sleeping…”she said softly, her hand falling to Pepper’s shoulder. Pepper reached up and gripped it, almost painfully as she turned to her sister-in-law, her face streaming with tears. There was a moment’s pause before Katie wrapped her arms around her, gently stroking her hair.

“We should… we should move him.” Rhodey said, his voice cracking. Steve pulled himself to his feet with a groan and he looked around.

“Has any of the compound survived?” he asked softly, wiping his face as Sam approached him.

“The Hangar area and the labs are totally gone, Cap.” Sam said gently and Steve looked at him properly for the first time in 5 years “But some of the living quarters and part of the training facility seems to be ok.”

“Can we check it’s safe to house people?” Steve said, switching back into Captain mode. “We need to set up somewhere to treat the wounded.”

Sam nodded.

“I’ll come with you.” Rhodey said before he looked at Steve. “I’ll get onto the Emergency Services and Ross too.”

The two men nodded. Rhodey took off straight away whereas Sam paused.

“It’s good to see you Sam.” Steve said, with a soft smile.

“Well like I said, when Captain America needs your help…”

There was a pause, before the two men hugged. Stepping back, with a nod, Sam launched back into the air.

“Steve…”

He spun round to see Bucky, watching him tentatively.  For a moment Steve stood still, just observing his friend before he rushed forward into a manly embrace, Steve choking up once more.

“I leave you for what, 5 minutes and you start another war?” Bucky teased gently and Steve gave a watery laugh.

“Try 5 years you Jerk”

“Punk.” Bucky said gently, before he looked down at Katie who was still knelt by her brother, her arm round Pepper. He gave a sigh and dropped his head.

“Sorry.” he offered to Steve, not sure what else he could say.

Steve nodded, wiping his face as he glanced around, the Captain and the Sergeant both surveying the survivors. Banner was stood with Clint and TChalla, the three of them talking with their heads bowed. Clint reached out and patted Banner on the arm as the green man began walking towards where Steve was stood.

“Living quarters are secure…” Rhodey said in Steve’s ear and he nodded.

“Ok, let’s set up some form of command centre, a triage maybe if we need it…” he took a deep breath and turned back to Katie as he dropped to his knee again, a little gentler than last time and he touched her shoulder.  

“Honey…” he said softly, wiping away the blood from her temple. “We can move Tony now, take him inside…that is if you’re ready…”

She turned to him, taking a deep breath she nodded. “Pep?”

Pepper gave a sniff and nodded as well.

“I’ll take him.” Banner said, sniffing as he stepped forward. Katie watched as he picked up Tony’s limp body as easily as if it was a rag doll and set off walking through the rubble.

“I don’t want him to be alone.” Pepper said gently from her side before she stood up and walked after Bruce.

Katie took a deep breath. She didn’t want to leave her brother either but she knew there was nothing more to be done for him, he was gone, and there were other people that needed their help. She turned to face Steve who was still knelt next to her. He reached out to gently cup her cheek with his hand, and it was then she noticed the bone-deep almost foot long gash down his forearm.

“Steve…your arm.” she said, taking his wrist in her hand and gently flipping it so she could look at it. “I’ll be fine.” He said.

Knowing better than to try and argue with him, she looked around and asked with a shaky voice. “Did anyone else…” “No.” Steve shook his head, instantly understanding “Few minor injuries but…everyone’s fine.” “Except Tony…” she said, her breath catching as the tears once more flooded from her eyes.  

“I’m so sorry sweetheart.” Steve’s voice cracked as he wrapped his arms round her and cradled her close, the pair of them lost in their grief for their fallen brother. *****

The night began to draw in. Thanks to Rhodey, the Emergency services had swamped the area to begin a full clean up and treatment of the walking wounded. 

And there were so many people to greet, so many to thank, so fucking many.

Katie’s head was a complete mash. She was utterly numb. Hugs and tears were shared with the people they had lost 5 years ago, thanks were given to those who had stood by them and come to their aid, and then more tears were shed for the two fallen heroes. Eventually, she told Steve she needed a break and he gave her cheek a soft kiss, both of them knowing full well her breakdown would come later. She headed into the compound to find Pepper and her brother before he was taken away by one of Ross’ men, the Secretary having actually proven useful for once.

Strange transported everyone who wasn’t staying at the Compound back home, in the same way he had led them there. He bid goodbye to Steve, shaking his hand, before he himself disappeared.

With a sigh and a glance down at his bandaged arm, Steve’s attention was caught by something shining in the dim light. As he looked harder he noticed that it was a piece of his shield. Bending down, his fingers swept the dust and debris off the large piece of Vibranium. Picking it up, he swallowed slightly, remembering the horror and surprise he had felt as Thanos had hacked through it, as if it had been made of nothing but aluminium.

“So you met Danvers?” a familiar voice cut through his thoughts. 

Steve looked over his shoulder to see Fury stood behind him. He stood up and gave the man a weak smile.“Yeah. You were holding out on us all this time.”

“In a fashion” Fury shrugged. “Code red only…”

Steve gave a snort, no in the least bit surprised.

“He's a spy. Captain, he's THE spy.” Tony said, gesticulating with his arms to make a point “His secrets have secrets”

Steve looked down at the fractured piece of his shield which was held in his hand, before he glanced out over the now destroyed compound where the battle had been raging mere hours before and he shook his head.

“You know, all this…bringing everyone back…” he sighed heavily “The victory kinda feels pyrrhic with losing Nat and Tony…”

“They both made their choices.” Fury sighed, softly “Both gave their lives for a cause they believed in.”

“Tony didn’t even want to do this you know.” Steve sighed “He said no at first but I talked him into it…” “Stark never did anything he didn’t want to do.” Fury said, turning to face Steve straight on. “He made a choice. As did Agent Romanoff. And you need to allow them the both the dignity of their choices by not blaming yourself. They clearly thought it was worth it.” With those words the Captain was catapulted way back in time to a conversation in a blown out London bar, the evening he realised he could no longer get drunk.

“It wasn’t your fault.” Peggy looked at him across the table.

“Did you read the reports?” Steve shot back.

“Yes.”

“Then you know that’s not true.”

“You did everything you could. Did you believe in your friend? Did you respect him?” Peggy asked and Steve looked at her, incredulously. Of course he did. She nodded and continued “Then stop blaming yourself. Allow Barnes the dignity of his choice. He damn well must have thought you were worth it.”

Only this time, unlike Bucky, there was no second chance. If calling what Bucky went through a second chance was really accurate that is…

“What?” Fury asked as Steve shook his head, a sad smile on his face.

“Nothing.” Steve said, “You just reminded me of someone.” “Anyone in particular?” “Peggy.” Steve sighed, looking around at the ruins of the compound. “Well there are worse people to be likened to.” Fury considered what Steve said for a moment before he changed the subject “I hear you and Nova have been busy these past 5 years, couple of kids...” “Yeah we do, boy and a girl.” Steve smiled as he looked at Fury, the thought of his children temporarily stemming the hollow feeling in his chest at the loss of his brother-in-law and friend. They were safe.

“You should go home.” Fury turned to Steve.  “Be with them.”

“Is that an order?” Steve arched an eyebrow looking at him.

“You don’t work for you me anymore, you haven’t done for a long time…in fact I’m not sure you ever really did…” Fury said, smirking slightly. “And I don’t think you never will again.”

He gave Steve a significant look, one which Steve instantly understood. This was Fury’s way of relieving him from his leadership of the Avengers.  It was symbolic more than anything because Steve didn’t need releasing from service at all. Fury wasn’t his boss, no one was his boss, but this was closure. It was Fury’s promising Steve he would never be called upon to fight again if that was what he chose.

And he did choose. He was ready to quit. 7 years ago when he had been forced into it he hadn’t been, not really, but now he was. His fight was done. He was buying that fucking holiday home, and they were going to be a normal family, that did normal things, in normal ways. Tony and Nat had both sacrificed their lives, and he wasn’t going to dishonour their memory by putting his family at risk ever again.

Captain America was done.

Steve looked down at his feet, before he glanced up at Fury, and held his hand out. “It’s been an honour.” he said, as Fury shook his hand. “But you’re right. It’s time for me to hang up my shield, for good this time. “ he looked down at the broken metal in his hand. “What’s left of it that is…”

“Or you could pass it down.” Fury said as Steve looked back at him, snorting.

“I think Jamie is a bit too young, and Katie would murder me if I even-”

“I don’t mean to your son.” Fury said, cutting Steve off and giving him significant look. “Captain America has been a symbol of hope for years. And that’s something the world is always gonna need Cap, regardless of who it is. So think about it, maybe there’s someone else worthy of that title and shield, broken or not.”

Steve watched, pondering his words, as Fury gave him a final nod, and turned back towards the destroyed buildings

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[tessatechaitea]

Justice League International #8 (1987)

Is it weird that I have a newsstand copy of a comic book when I definitely was shopping at my local comic shop in 1987?

This cover has so many jokes to talk about that I probably won't have time to review the entire issue. My stomach is already sore for laughing so hard! Look at how the box marked "fragile" is about to fall onto the floor thanks to the carelessness of Blue Beetle and Booster Gold! Ha ha! And they're carrying the large box upside down! According to the label on the upside down box, it's going to Paris, France so it must contain Crimson Fox who is almost certainly swearing in French because have you ever tried to masturbate while upside down in a box being jiggled by two men?! The incompetence of those guys is hilarious! But the best joke is the one where the only woman on the team doesn't lift a finger to help and also can't make up her mind about the placement of a gigantic box that hasn't been opened yet! See how funny that is? Because who cares where the box is placed?! It's not like they're moving a desk or an end table and Black Canary is coming up with a floor plan! It's just a box that will need to be opened and then broken down and then thrown out! The other funny part is that yellow spray around Beetle's head and the shape of his mouth because I think it suggests he's about to call Black Canary a bitch! Ha ha! I probably left out the joke about the hernia although that one might just be implied. Also, it'll probably be a blatant joke later in the story. The issue begins with Jack Ryder on his right-wing radio call-in television "news" program fiasco of a show Hot Seat trying to get the masses to shit blood over the Justice League. It'll work because the masses in comic books (as well as the masses not in comic books because we've all seen how people who listen to and watch right-wing radio call-in television "news" programs easily believe the alternate reality fed to them because it speaks to their inherent biases and selfishness) are idiots. (That might be my favorite interruption by parenthetical reference I've ever written.) I also know that it will work because Glorious Godfrey only recently did the same thing a year or two ago and it worked. But comic books don't recognize time and space in the same way that we more logical and real readers do so the masses won't remember that they were fooled just a year ago by idiotic television pundits who don't mind seeing the world burn as long as they can cash a fat check over it. I doubly also know it will work because Millennium is coming up and I think that might be proof that maybe Jack Ryder was sort of right because aliens have infiltrated Earth and are pretending to be heroes and possibly even right-wing radio call-in television "news" hosts. I don't really remember much about Millennium except that it was weekly and there were Manhunters in it.

My favorite comic book characters when I was a kid were Blue Falcon and Dynomutt. I bet Jack Ryder was Sean Hannity's favorite. Tucker Carlson's favorite was probably Hitler.

This issue begins the long running joke that Martian Manhunter is addicted to Oreos. I fucking get it, man. Have you ever tried to melt an Oreo into a spoon, fill a needle with the liquid contents, and inject it straight into your bloodstream? Me neither because that's stupid, you dumb idiot. Why would you even suggest it? You need to inject them straight into your taste buds. J'onn, Mister Miracle, and Captain Atom are setting up the New York Embassy which leads to lots of jokes about shoddy construction and terrible wiring and lazy movers. At one point Captain Atom electrocutes himself and then destroys all of the wiring because he's the guy the United States wanted to represent them on the new international team. I'd say his penchant to escalate a situation straight to violence proves the United States made the right decision. Batman and Guy Gardner oversee the outfitting of the Russian Embassy with a little help from Rocket Manhunter #7.

Even Rocket Red has heard about Guy's serious brain trauma and yet nobody has even discussed getting him a medical check-up. What a bunch of bastards!

This is also the issue that begins the "Bwa-ha-ha-ha" gag (I think. Did it happen in an issue previously? Maybe?! Anyway, it really gets going here). That's the gag where somebody laughs when something terrible happens to somebody else. It's a great team building exercise, to laugh at a co-worker's pain! Or if it isn't, it, at the very least, helps develop personal morale. Nothing better than laughing at your manager after her credit card was stolen by a prospective new employee while the entire company was in a meeting, especially after learning that said card was pretty much just used at The Honey Baked Ham. Does that make if funnier? Or is this one of those dark humor things like when the same manager was super pissed at an employee I was training for not showing up for work the day before Thanksgiving only to learn later that she had died of carbon monoxide poisoning the previous night which caused her to erupt into crying jags for the rest of the day which I'm positive weren't for my poor co-worker but for her guilty feelings of being so angry at her. That's dark humor, right? The "Bwa-ha-ha-ha" gag begins when Booster tries to hit on a Parisian woman and gets shot down. Later, she winds up being the League's Paris Bureau Chief. And also maybe Crimson Fox?

This scene is well done in a book that often tries too hard for stupidly silly humor.

I'd say that these three pages (the scanned page being the third of the three) of interaction between Blue Beetle and Booster Gold is ground zero for what would become a great best friend relationship. Any interaction before this was just of the generic Blue Beetle making a stupid class clown comment to the group. But this foundational scene in Paris already feels like these two at their closest which, admittedly, is mostly Blue Beetle laughing at something dumb Booster Gold did. But I like to view this entire relationship through the lens of a Booster Gold mostly driven mad and insane from having to live through so many alternate timelines. Sure, the reader doesn't know about that aspect of Booster Gold yet (and won't for more than a decade). But I can't help but understand Booster Gold through that lens now. And his need for some kind of consistency and whimsy and, almost certainly, a need to be able to laugh at himself must be expressed through this relationship as a kind of therapy. In a universe where not even the timeline lacks consistency, Booster Gold finds solace in getting his balls busted by Blue Beetle.

Maybe I'm a dick who doesn't understand true friendship but this is totally what it looks like, right?

The issue ends with a Keith Giffen drawn story about the end of the Global Guardians, or at least the end of their United Nations backing. I'm sure it's a set-up for a future story but even if it were just a couple page story acknowledging the Global Guardians and how they're affected by a new United Nations backed team, it would remain an interesting moment. I don't need iron clad continuity in my comic book universe but I am entertained when writers acknowledge the waves their stories are making in that continuity. Plus it's drawn by Giffen which always makes it seem like I'm reading a story from the perspective of a madman. Justice League International #8 Rating: B+. How come when I publish a manifesto, people refer to it as a 'zine?! How do you get the fucking power to have your photo-copied screed with "art" considered a manifesto?! How many people do I have to rant at to get some Goddamned recognition?! "The Truth About Star Trek Transporters" is not a fucking fanzine, people! It's a manifesto of the alternate reality we're being asked to accept! The alternate reality of an alternate reality where people are being sent to their deaths every fucking mission only to be replaced by clones of themselves and nobody fucking cares! Probably because they're all clones of clones of clones and their ability to think rationally has diminished to the point of dogmatic stupidity! Am I the only one witnessing this while others simply think its some kind of retrograde perspective?! Does my antediluvian intellect subquester the means of proliferating the parallax of reality?! Does the inclusion of three hilarious dick jokes deny me the mantle of manifesto writer, oublietting my ego into an infinite mirror trick of endless zineian declarations?! Fuck this shit! And fuck that satellite that's been following me throughout this meandering conclusion!

[deejadabbles]

Spells of Defiance (Atem x Reader x Yugi) Chapter 5

Five: Friends

One //// Two //// Three //// Four //// Five //// Six //// Seven //// [Eight coming soon] 

Summary: The Circle of Magicians protects the world from rogue, murderous fey. The police who keep bloodsuckers and flesh-eaters in check. You’ve hunted vampires for years, earning a reputation as one of the best magicians in that field; but what happens when an encounter with a particular vampire makes your already fragile loyalties split?

Supernatural/Demon Hunter AU. Vampire!Atem x Reader x Incubus!Yugi (yes, a polyamorous relationship). Warnings for cursing, vulgar language, violence, and some sexual themes.

A.N.  Here's one of the songs I play on repeat while writing this series, in case any of you are interested! 

“Why didn’t you tell us you’ve never been to a movie theater before?!”

You actually couldn’t help but snicker at the look of pure exasperated incredulity plastered on Yugi’s face as you and the boys walked down the city street together. He looked downright horrified that they hadn’t treated the occasion with more care.

“It’s not that big of a deal. Besides, I could list the “fun” things I’ve done outside of the Circle way faster than I could list the things I haven’t done.”

Yugi sighed, looking beyond disappointed, “I just wish your first movie experience was something better than “Mimi the Neko’s Summer Vacation”!”

Again you chuckled and did not miss the amused grin on Atem’s face as he shook his head at Yugi. “It was a cute movie! Don’t feel bad, I liked it.” You gave Yugi a playful nudge with your elbow and were happy to see him grin back at you, finally putting the first movie debacle to rest.

The streets of Domino were alight with the neon signs and other pedestrians enjoying a night out. People with shopping bags, takeout containers, and various other holdings walked down the street, passing the vampire, the incubus, and yourself without any care. Not that any of them knew what the three of you were, but still. From what you remember of the walk over you were still five or so blocks from home, but the night air was cool and the company was more than pleasant. The way Yugi and Atem held hands as they walked made you smile for some reason, and despite the people bustling around you, it felt as if you three were walking in your own little bubble.

Then, you saw Yugi’s eyes go wide with delight as they landed on a cart parked on the very edge of the sidewalk. “Have you ever had ice cream before?” he asked, turning back to you with an expectant grin.

You opened your mouth to answer- but found yourself hesitating when your mind seemed to stall. You had been on the verge of saying yes, but, even as the answer came to your mind, the memory of eating the frozen treat did not. Surely you had tried it while out on missions. The Circle had given you a small allowance after all, and you often used it to try new foods. Perhaps the memory was simply wrapped up in the back of your mind somewhere.

“Yeah, I think I have,” you answered after recovering from the momentary falter.

Though he must have noticed the odd moment, Yugi elected to ignore it and instead grabbed your hand with his free one and pulled both you and Atem towards the icecream cart. He asked- no, more like told you to get whatever flavor you wanted as he looked over the few options available. Again Atem was smiling at his boyfriend’s cute behavior and gave you an understanding wink as he asked for an orange pop. Eventually, Yugi got a double scoop of strawberry on a waffle cone and you got the flavor that sounded most appealing. Again you couldn’t recall the flavor you had tried in the past but were certain you had done so before.

As you and the boys resumed your walk, treats in hand, Atem quickly took notice to you giving him an interested look. “You know I’ve never seen a vampire eat regular food before,” you commented.

Atem hummed, “Yes, I don’t suppose you would have. After turning, our taste buds are dulled to...regular foods. Most aren’t appetizing to me in the slightest, but there are a few foods, ones with potent tastes, that I’ll eat upon occasion,” he waved the popsicle to accentuate his words.

“What he’s not telling you, is that all of those foods are sweets,” Yugi interjected with a giggle, “He must have had a major sweet tooth back in the day.”

The information made you laugh, especially when the vampire in question looked almost pouty at being outed. “Careful, Yugi, or I’ll tell her about how childish your eating habits were when we first met.”

“Hey, my diet wasn’t that bad!” Yugi countered.

“Hamburgers, cheetos, and ramen cups are not a diet, my love.”

The monotone in which Atem delivered the burn was it for you, especially when Yugi’s mouth dropped open with a profound blush! You burst into laughter and almost pitched the last of your ice cream to the ground as you covered your mouth to stifle the giggles. You expected to hear Yugi say something sassy back, but after a few moments where you recovered from your humorous outburst, you looked back over at your companions and saw both of them smiling at you. A warm flush of your very own slithered onto your cheeks, but before you could be too embarrassed, Yugi sighed with a shrug.

“Hey, at least I make decent meals now.” He winked at Atem, “After his constant nagging to eat better I didn’t have much choice.”

“I did not nag-”

“Besides,” Yugi’s bright smile refocused on you, “now it’s not just me I’m cooking for, so it was worth it in the end!”

You had to swallow something that had formed in your throat before answering, and even then you only managed a weak, “Right,” as the three of you continued on your leisurely walk home.

Later that night, Yugi hummed happily to himself as he buttoned up his star-patterned PJ top to get ready for bed. He was quite amused that you had insisted that everyone get enough sleep that night when you three got home, stating that tomorrow might be a harrowing day. Just as he did with Atem, Yugi found it cute when you worried.

Atem was straightening up their sheets, his own mind working out the knots of the day’s events. A lot had happened that day and he wasn’t sure if he had properly processed the...potent emotions rolling about in his head. Now in the relative silence of their room, Yugi distracted with his own thoughts, Atem’s mind was wandering.

He still wasn’t sure what to make of the argument he’d had with you earlier. Yugi had once accused Atem of being too “self-destructive” (ironically, during a heated argument of their own) and at the time Atem couldn’t quite understand how to see things from Yugi’s perspective. To understand why such behavior would hurt him so much. Now, seeing you so willing putting yourself in unnecessary danger, Atem understood. He respected that you could more than hold your own in a battle, in fact, he was quite thankful that he had never been your target in a physical fight, but that did not mean he could stop himself from worrying over your safety.

Then there was everything regarding Marik. How the memories of that blood-soaked night still flashed in his mind’s eye. The bodies littering his family home, friends and loved ones alike. The screams ringing in his ears as he tried to get his mother and handmaid out of the house unnoticed. The way Marik whispered sick taunts in his ears as the vampire’s followers held his father down, making him watch as Atem took his last, painful, bloodsoaked breaths as a living, mortal man.

It hurt. Even after all these centuries, the memories hurt. But still, it had felt right to tell you, to open up to you. It had felt good, much like it had when he told Yugi about his past as the young incubus wrapped him up in a warm embrace. And despite the emotional turmoil he’d faced that day, Atem felt...hopeful. He was closer than he ever had been to bringing Marik’s mad schemes to an end, he could feel it. And for the first time in centuries, Atem wasn’t alone while trying to do so.

“It’s nice to see her opening up.”

Yugi’s light, cheery comment brought Atem out of his musings. He looked over as the incubus plopped down on the bed and elaborated in his comment.

“She always seems to have that moment of surprise when she does something, like call this place home, or open up about her past, but she’s still letting herself get closer to us.” Yugi took in a slow breath, his eyes staring unfocused but wistfully at nothing as he thought. “It’s nice, seeing her laugh too. When we were breaking you out of the Sanctuary some jerk of a magician started making these awful comments at her, so I decided to pay him back by putting an hour-long loop of gay porn in his head. When I told her what I did she laughed so much, I just,” Yugi shrugged, chuckling himself at the memory. “You could see that she isn’t used to letting her emotions out like that and she just looked so cute when she was laughing. Just like she did earlier tonight. I like making her laugh...” Yugi’s voice trailed off the longer he spoke, and Atem felt his chest flutter a bit at how sweet Yugi looked as he reminisced.

The vampire smiled as he sat down on the bed next to his lover, “Yes, it is nice seeing her open up to us. It can’t be easy, growing up in the Circle as she did. I’m sure there is so much more about her past that we don’t know about, but still, she’s kept her heart true and noble. She’s...quite amazing in that respect.”

“...You really like her, don’t you?” Yugi asked, tone quiet and eyes staring unfocused on the carpet beneath their feet.

Atem felt himself stiffen, his mind stalling as he realized that he should try to think of some response that would put any...worries Yugi might have at ease.

As if reading Atem’s mind, Yugi quickly said, still in that quiet tone, “You don’t have to deny it, Atem, even if I couldn't sense emotions, I can see the way you look at her. But,” his voice became a bit louder and more firm, as if trying to make sure Atem didn’t misunderstand him. “But it’s okay because...well…” The incubus shifted his position and faced Atem more fully, grabbed his hands and made Atem meet his eyes. In them, the vampire saw something sure and true, something simmering with passion and conviction, urging Atem to understand his next words. “It’s okay because I understand. I really like her too.”

Atem’s eyes went wide at that. “Yugi…”

“I know it’s a bit odd, but, I’m not even jealous when I see you looking at her like that, because I know that I feel the same way. Having her here with us, I don’t know it just feels...right. Like this is the way it was always meant to be. We haven’t even known her that long and it already feels like this is the way it was supposed to be.”

After a moment where Atem’s mind fully processed what Yugi was saying, the vampire tightened his grip on Yugi’s hands with affection. “I won’t deny it. From the first moment I met her I felt...captivated by her. Her strength, her wit, her noble heart, her beauty- all of it drew me in in a way that I could never explain.” He wanted Yugi to understand exactly what was in his heart, he needed Yugi to know every layer of these feelings, and know that feeling this way would never- could never diminish the love he felt for Yugi. Atem reached up and cupped Yugi’s face between his hands, relishing the sweet smile and almost teary eyes the incubus gave him. “In all my years on this earth, the only other person I’ve felt such a deep, immediate connection with, is you, Yugi.”

In response, he chuckled, smiled even wider, and placed his hands over Atem’s. “I feel the same way.”

Overcome, the vampire pulled his lover in for a kiss, spilling all his passion and affection into the intimate contact. Yugi met him with the same and wrapped his arms around Atem to pull him as close and physically possible. It was a sweet parallel to the first time they had confessed their deeper feelings for each other, and though the one they were admitting passion for was missing in that moment, they still relished the loving air. It had to be a positive sign that these admissions ended with sweet kisses instead of hurt feelings, didn’t it? But, all this simply raised even more questions, which Atem addressed after they finally broke their kiss and Yugi slid down to rest his head on Atem’s chest as they still held each other.

“So, what steps do we take now that we know our feelings for her?”

Yugi thought for a moment, allowing his mind to think of all the paths that may lay before them. “Well...if you’re open to it...I don’t mind the idea of- you know, opening up to her about all this and seeing where things go from there.”

“You mean...ask her if she wants to be with both of us? Together?”

The incubus nodded, still held against Atem’s chest, “Yeah, I mean, there are some relationships that are between more than two people. Are you okay with that idea?”

Though the answer wanted to fall from his lips the moment Yugi asked, Atem made himself hold back just a moment, so he could think it over without haste. Such a thing should never be decided in the heat of the moment without thought, or feelings could get hurt later on.

Even after allowing himself that practical moment's though, the answer was still the same. “Yes.”

Yugi gave a content sigh, “Glad it wasn’t just me, I was worried you’d think I was being a stereotypical unfaithful incubus.”

“I would never think that, Yugi,” Atem assured with a tender kiss on the top of Yugi’s head.

A bit of silence passed, Atem allowing himself to picture a future with both you and Yugi at his side, while Yugi let his mind work on another worry and concern over this whole situation.

“I don’t think we should tell her about our feelings yet.”

Atem blinked at Yugi’s sudden change of heart, “Why?”

“Well, think about it,” Yugi finally leaned back from his boyfriend’s chest and looked him in the eyes again, “I don’t want us to overwhelm her too soon, you know? The fight you two had today says that she’s barely getting used to the idea that people care whether she lives or dies! If we tell her all of this now, while she’s still getting used to being around people who care about her at all...I don’t know, I just don’t want to spook her.” Almost immediately Yugi made a frustrated noise and rubbed the back of his head in shame. “That sounded weird, she’s not a deer we’re trying to feed in the forest, but I just think that…”

“You’re right, Aibou,” Atem said, trying to put his incubus’ worry at ease. “We need to give her time. Time to get used to her new life, to us, time to sort out her own feelings before we overwhelm her with our own.”

Yugi sighed in relief that Atem understood and nodded his head with a smile. “Exactly.”

“And in the meantime,” the vampire started as he held Yugi tight again and laid both their bodies back against their soft mattress and pillows, “we simply need to be there for her.”

The incubus gave a sound of agreement as he closed his eyes and lazily wrapped his tail around his and Atem’s intertwined legs. They drifted off to sleep like that, happy and content and...hopeful about the future.

It wasn’t until you shot a glare over at the hair salon next door that you realized you were on high alert for Yugi’s overzealous fangirls as you helped him open up the shop. You had told him you would set the sign and display table outside while he did the rest inside and you supposed it was your subconscious need to protect Yugi from the unwanted staring that prompted you to do it. Your effort proved to be for the best when you saw the short blond wander outside for a smoke break- and frowned with a displeased sigh when she saw you instead Yugi. You put on a smile you knew must have looked fake as you waved at her, and her scowl only deepened. Satisfied with how she actually turned her back on you, you went back into the shop after setting up the sandwich sign.

“Thanks for doing that!” Yugi’s cheerful voice chimed from the counter, “I’m all ready here, so you can go ahead and flip the open sign if you want.”

You obliged, then wandered over to the front counter, hopping on to it and turning to Yugi. “So, is your werewolf friend still going to meet us today?”

“Yup! He’s a good guy and always willing to help me and Atem, I thought having his nose would be a good advantage while we’re staking out the possible hideouts, not to mention it can’t hurt to have a werewolf when fighting a vampire, right?”

You nodded, “Right. I usually cast a detection spell to get an idea of how many beings are in a building, but it’s best if I can save my energy for any actual fighting. Plus, his sense of smell will help us know if there’s just vampires inside, or if there’s any human bystanders we have to worry about.”

Yugi agreed with your words, then after a moment, seemed to hesitate. “Um..there’s something else I think I should mention about our friend. We told him about you, and how we trust you, but he’s had some bad run-ins with the Circle before, so he might be a bit suspicious of you at first.” Obviously he had meant for the words to come out differently, because he looked a tad panicked as he amended, “I mean, he won’t be super hostile towards you or anything! He’s not a bad person, it’s just that he might be wary of you at first.”

“It’s okay, Yugi, trust me I understand. Most fey aren’t going to like me, ex Circle or not.” Wanting to move on from his concern you changed the subject by saying, “So what are you going to do about the shop today since we’ll be leaving before you close?”

“You remember how I mention having a witch friend the other day? She sometimes helps me with the shop, so she’ll be watching it for us today. I can’t wait for you to meet her, I have a feeling she’ll like you a lot!”

Why did that comment almost make you want to do a double-take? Yugi seemed so sure of his statement, accentuated with that bright grin of his. “What makes you say that?”

His grin did not falter, “Well, she’s an easy person to get along with period but I think she’ll love how spunky you are, I think you two will be like peas in a pod!”

Your cheeks felt a bit warm suddenly and you found yourself rubbing the back of your neck, unsure how to answer. Yugi may have taken pity on your speechlessness and told you a bit more about both friends you’d be meeting, but his first customer of the day came in then and the conversation came to a halt.

For the next couple of hours, you simply helped Yugi around the shop, though there wasn’t much to do beside straighten up a few shelves. You of course eventually checked on the daylight ring you were making for Atem, after giving it plenty of time to absorb the rays of the sun. When the sigils on the metal glowed faintly as you touched it you sighed in relief; the enchantment was complete. It may not be the high-quality magic that would keep Atem safe from the sun for hours on end, but it would work for today’s mission.

Ring in hand, you contemplated whether you should warn Atem to still wear long sleeves and a hat as you walked back out into the main part of the shop. The sun might still irritate his skin, so the extra layer of cover might do him good. According to Yugi, his friends should be there soon so it was best to prepare now.

You were about to turn to the door leading upstairs so you could talk to Atem, but you were stopped when Yugi called out to you from the front of the store. Turning, you saw the incubus standing in the center of the store next to a young woman with short brown hair. She wore jeans with a stylish blue top that matched her eyes and she gave you a friendly smile the moment they met your own.

Yugi said your name before waving at the girl, “This is Anzu, the one who’ll be watching the store today! Anzu, this is the new friend I told you about over the phone.”

“Nice to meet you!” The woman- Anzu greeted as she closed the distance between you and held out her hand.

You took it and offered her your own smile, though you were sure it wasn’t as warm as hers. “Nice to meet you too, Anzu.”

“Were you about to take that up to Atem?” Yugi asked, pointing at the ring you were fidgeting with in your other hand.

“Yeah, I was going to warn him that…” you trailed off, casting a cautious glance at Anzu, who’s smile never faltered.

“Oh don’t worry, I know about the boys and their cute fangs and wings,” Anzu assured with a wink, “Judging by the crests on it, I’m guessing that’s a daylight ring?”

You didn’t bother hiding your surprise at her knowledge, “Yes, it is. I was just going to warn Atem that he may still want to cover up a bit before going outside. The sun might irritate his skin.”

“I can tell him for you,” Yugi offered, holding out his hand for the ring.

You faltered for a second, something told you that Yugi was trying to give you and Anzu time to talk. Still, not wanting to seem rude you handed the ring over with a “thanks”, and just like that Yugi was dashing through the door and up the stairs.

Not much silence passed in his absence before the obviously sociable Anzu continued your conversation. “You must really know your stuff to be able to make one of those. Enchanting’s never easy.”

“Eh, it’s not as good as it could be, but it’ll do.”

Anzu’s smile faltered a bit and she tilted her head at you. “You don’t have to downplay your skills, you know. I think that’s the Circle’s influence coming through.”

You couldn’t help but tense at her words. Yugi had called her a witch, but the term usually applied to humans who dabbled in the tiny bit of magic they were able to tap into. Given her knowledge of enchantments, the boy’s true races, and the Circle, this was obviously no ordinary white witch.

She must have sensed your tension because she held up her hand in pleading defense. “Oh, sorry, I guess Yugi didn’t mention that he told me a bit about you. He told me how you helped Atem escape execution,” her eyes drifted down to your scarred palm, “how you left the Circle in order to help them.” Her eyes snapped back up to yours and you were surprised by the profound sense of understanding that played in her gaze. “Yugi really wanted us to meet because he thought it might be nice for you to know another spell slinger who’s free of the Circle.”

“Wait...you-?”

“No, not me specifically, but I know a lot about the Circle and how cruel they are. My grandmother was like you, she was brave enough to leave them and start a new life.”

You knew you must have looked silly at how surprised you were at the statement. Magicians had been known to leave the Circle before, but it wasn’t common and the few times someone did, it was kept as quiet as possible. Even after a moment, all you could manage to say was, “Oh.”

Anzu was still understanding and patient with you as she went on, “Yeah. From what she said, it wasn’t easy starting over from nothing, but she managed it. Eventually, she even got married and had a kid, my dad. She made sure to tell me and my dad everything we needed to know about the Circle, just in case we crossed paths with them. She also taught us how to use our magic. I’m sure I’m nowhere near your level, but I know a thing or two.”

A smile found its way onto your face, “Now who’s downplaying their skills?”

Anzu giggled at that and you found the laughter infectious as you let out a small chuckle as well. “Well, I know you’re still probably getting used to your new life, but, if you ever want to talk to another non-circle magic-user, feel free to come to me, kay?”

“Thanks, Anzu, I appreciate the offer.”

You did, truely, she seemed like a genuine and kind person. So far Yugi and Atem had been a surprising source of solace the few times you had talked about your life in the circle. Talking with Anzu may not come as naturally, but getting to know her when you had the chance couldn’t hurt. Several questions about the girl's life outside of the Circle came to your mind, but for now, you started with a simple one.

“I’m curious, Yugi called you a witch when he told me about you, is there a reason you’re using that title instead of magician?”

Anzu gave a shrug, “Well, it’s partly because it helps me stay under the Circle’s radar. Go around calling yourself a magician and they’ll get pretty interested in you. But besides that,” Anzu lifted her chin proudly, “I like the name because it sets me apart from them.”

You smirked at the bold and proud statement, yes, you could see yourself getting along with Anzu just fine. When she turned towards the counter and went to set her bag down behind it, you followed her, noting that Yugi was taking his time fetching Atem. Anzu had apparently decided not to ask anything too personal of you yet, because her next question was simple enough.

“So did Yugi tell you anything else about me?”

“Not really, besides that he helped you find a missing girl in your coven once. And that you help with the shop sometimes.” Not wanting the conversation to taper off awkwardly, you continued with, “So how did you and Yugi meet?”

“Oh, we’ve known each other since we were kids. My family knew Yugi’s so we were always going over to each other’s houses and stuff,” she let out an almost exasperated laugh, “If you ask me I think Yugi’s grandpa was always interested in my grandmother. He was always flirting with her even with us kids in the room.”

You smiled at the thought. Yugi may not be the hopeless flirt that people usually thought of when the word ‘Incubus’ came to mind, but he certainly had his own charm and you had no doubt that he could turn it up when he wanted to; obviously he learned a thing or two from his grandpa. “Yugi’s mentioned his grandpa before, I guess the two were really close?”

“Yeah, they were,” Anzu’s smile didn’t leave but her eyes had a more serious look to them now. “His family wasn’t the stereotypical stuff you think of when you think about incubi and succubi. That’s why my family was so close with them. They really cared about and loved each other, and you can tell it made Yugi into a great man.”

You felt warm at the thought, the way Yugi welcomed you into his home like an old friend, how devoted and loving he was towards Atem, his bright eyes and smile, everything about him confirmed what Anzu was saying. Not for the first time, you found yourself wondering what had happened to Yugi’s parents, but more so you found yourself glad that Yugi had been given such a loving family. “Yeah, he really is.”

After a heartbeat, your eyes met Anzu’s again, and you were a bit taken aback by the knowing look twinkling in her eyes. Before you could question it however, the sound of Yugi and Atem finally coming down interrupted you. Anzu was an interesting woman, you’d have to take some time out to get to know her more when you had the chance.

You looked over your shoulder and found Atem trailing behind Yugi, who had slipped on a blue jacket. Atem had heeded your warning about wearing extra protection to some extent. He wore a long-sleeved shirt and thick jeans tucked into his boots, but he apparently wasn’t fond of hats and had swapped that accessory out for a pair of sunglasses that would keep his eyes from hurting.

“Wow Atem, aren’t you looking stylish,” Anzu chuckled.

The vampire gave the witch a smirk, “Hello, Anzu, I see you’ve met our new friend.”

“I have,” Anzu gave you a little wink, “I can see why you’re teaming up with her, she looks like she knows her stuff. Tough too.”

“That she is.” You noticed out of the corner of your eye that Atem fiddled with his daylight ring a bit as he said that, but the moment was quickly over when he turned to Yugi, “When is Joseph going to arrive?”

“Any minute now, you know how he is,” Yugi assured with a smile.

At their words, you noticed that Anzu's cheerful demeanor seemed to waver and her voice was less chipper as she said, “Are you guys sure you don’t want me to come with you? I don’t mind holding down the fort here, but I hate sending you guys into danger like this.”

Yugi, who had gone behind the counter while you three waited, put a hand on the girl’s shoulder. “Don’t worry, Anzu, we’ll be okay. We have a vampire, a Circle trained magician and a werewolf on our side!”

“Don’t forget about yourself, Yugi,” you added, “I’m sure those claws of yours aren’t just for show.”

You weren’t entirely sure, but you thought you saw pink creeping up from under Yugi’s collar- unfortunately you were all distracted by the scene when the shop’s bell clanged as the door was swung open.

“Alrighty, who’s ready to hunt some vampires!”

Startled, before your mind could register the words you spun on your heel, raising your hand and repairing a spell. Your mind yelled at you to stop when your eyes landed on a tall blond standing in the doorway with his arms wide.

“Really, Joey?” Anzu hissed at the newcomer, “There could have been customers in here, why are you going around yelling about vampires?!”

After closing the door with a kick of his heel, the man stepped inside. “Oh, hey Anzu! What’re you getting worked up about? Not like any humans would have assumed I meant real vampires anyway.”

Both Anzu and Atem sighed while Yugi only grinned at, who you would assume was their werewolf friend. The incubus opened his mouth to introduce you, but apparently this Joey was a step ahead. His eyes landed on you and with a raised brow, he started circling you.

“So, you’re the mage Yugi told me about?”

It took much- no, all of your self control not to turn and glare at him as he circled, his demeanor not exactly predatory, but not friendly either. “I am. You must be the werewolf.”

“That’s right. You got a problem with that?”

Atem gave a firm and warning call of Joey’s name, but you held up your hand as the man stopped in front of you again. Your eyes were firm on Joey’s, not challenging, but not meek or submissive by any means. “So long as you don’t sharpen your fangs and claws on humans, I don’t have any problem with you.”

Joey made a noise, something more human-like than a snarl, “I don’t hunt humans! I ain’t some animal!”

“Then we don’t have a problem.”

He stared back into your eyes for a long moment, and even under their intensity, you never faltered. The air was growing tense, you wondered if Yugi was about to jump in, the ever calm peacemaker, but then the wolf closed his eyes and let out a hoot of laughter.

“I like her! She’s got guts without bein all high and mighty like the other spell slingers.” He reached out and clapped you on the back, “If Yugi and Atem say you’re alright, then you’re fine by me.” Anzu and Yugi both seemed to let out a breath at that, and Joey turned to them and Atem to elaborate on his first question. “So, where’re we going hunting? I’m itching to take out some human killers.”

You hoped that Yugi had warned Joey that all these possible hideouts were only maybes and that there may not be any actual vampire killing that day, because the wolf seemed all too eager with this ‘hunt’ as you arrived at the first house. Atem actually had to pull Joey back from storming the front door, which left you wondering if bringing him along was actually a good call or not. Thankfully, when Yugi asked their friend to sniff the place out before doing anything rash, he seemed quite fine with the more cautious approach.

He walked the perimeter with the rest of you, his nose wrinkled and body hunched. You were glad it was the afternoon on a weekday, or the neighbors in this suburban block may have a question or two for your little group. Eventually, Joey leaned back, looking a bit disappointed as he said that there wasn’t even a trace of a vampiric scent around the property. Well, one down, four to go.

The next house wasn’t any better. The only thing different there was that Joey didn’t try to go in the front door and that there was a very protective cocker spaniel barking at you four from the windows the whole time you circled the house.

You were starting to really worry that your investigation was a complete bust as you arrived in the neighborhood for the third house and apparently you weren’t doing a good job at hiding your unease.

“You okay?” Yugi asked from beside you on the well-kempt sidewalk.

“Yeah, just worried all this trouble will be for nothing. I hate the idea of wasting everyone’s time.”

Yugi’s brows furrowed, “You don’t have to worry about that. Even if Marik isn’t hiding in any of these places, things like this take time, we know that.”

“I would have thought you would be used to investigations leading to dead ends at times, what with the nature of your job,” Atem chimed in from behind you.

You let out a short sigh, “True, but that’s when I’m by myself, not when I’m working with others.” Others who are relying on me to actually be of use, you added internally.

“Eh, don’t worry about it!” Joey assured, “If anything it’s just nice for Atem to get out in the sun!” He turned to the vampire in question, “It’s still weird though, seeing him out in the daytime, I don’t think I’ve even seen him awake when the suns up!”

“He’s awake, Joey,” Yugi cut in, “he just stays up in the apartment until sunset.”

You looked over your shoulder at Atem, wanting to see his ring, though his bare hands were tucked into his pockets. “How are you doing, by the way? Ring holding up?”

He nodded, “It’s holding up just fine. Trust me, I’ll let you know if I think I’m about to catch fire.”

“Please don’t joke about that,” Yugi groaned as your group finally came upon the third house.

It was a two-story brick building, not too large but not too small, and it was tucked away at the end of a dead-end street with a large yard separating it from the nearest neighbor. You took notice of the way Joey’s demeanor changed in a flash as you came up to the side of the house.

“Oh, there’s definitely a vampire in there alright.”

The rest of you seemed to tense under Joey’s words, though you were all relatively safe outside in the sunlight. On a closer look you confirmed that all of the curtains in the house were drawn tight, allowing no rays of light to come in, or for anyone to peak out.

“Can you tell if anyone else is in the house?”

Joey sniffed the air, drawing in deep, “I’ll have to get closer to tell.”

With that, the wolf stepped over the stone hedge lining the front yard. You were about to hiss after him, telling him to stay low and out of sight, but he was apparently more cautious than you first thought, and was careful to stay between the view of the windows as he went. You and the boys made to follow after him and you took a tentative look around at the two closets houses.

Your heart nearly jumped in your throat when you saw a face peeking out at you from across the street! It was an old man, looking at your suspicious group with a furrowed brow. You gave him a wave; oh yes, nothing to see here, just four strangers wandering into your neighbor’s yard, everything’s fine! He must have thought so in the end, because he simply shook his head and let the blinds fall back into place.

You were thankful that I line of trees kept you mostly shielded as you and the others walked around the house, Joey’s nose never resting. When he came to the back of the house he paused by a bush and motioned the rest of you to lean in.

“This is weird, I definitely smelling one vampire inside, but there’re older, staler scents, some human, some vampire.”

“Perhaps some of Marik’s servants have come and gone,” Atem suggested under his breath. The hard set of his jaw and the way his shaded eyes stayed on the back door to the house almost concerned you.

“Maybe, but either way we’re still going inside. I suggest you boys let me go in first,” you more said than asked.

“No,” Atem’s fangs were showing as he practically growled his next words, “Marik may have traps waiting inside. If he does, then I should take the damage from them. I can heal from practically anything, you can’t.”

Oh not this again. “Or how about we avoid any traps altogether. I’m a big girl, Atem, this isn’t my first time storming a vampire’s lair.”

You didn’t give him time to answer or argue, because you immediately rushed up to the back door, crouching low under the windows. You heard the three of them follow as you grabbed the door’s handle. There were several ways to get in, and though most magicians would have likely picked the lock or busted up with their bare hands, you relied on your talent with fire. Within seconds the thin metal of the knob was melting and sliding onto the stoop.

As quietly as you could you pushed the door open and took your first scan of the house. A kitchen lay before you, small for the nicer suburban houses, but this wasn’t the best one on the block by any means. Dishes were piled up in the sink and the stale smell of a neglected home filled the air.

Satisfied that nothing was going to blow up at the doorway, you stepped inside and the boys followed. Just off of the kitchen was a short hallway with two doors off of it and a staircase on one side.

“The smell's coming from upstairs,” Joey whispered to you.

Yugi opened his mouth to say something but you held your finger to your lips. It was almost impossible to sneak up on a vampire, even when they were sleeping, but you still wanted to keep as quiet as possible to postpone your detection. As you stepped towards the stairs at a slow pace, you looked over at Atem. He had taken his sunglasses off and he looked primed and ready to bolt up the stairs at a moment’s notice. There was something else though, something like suspicion in his eyes. Maybe he thought this was all too easy and, honestly, you might have to agree with him.

Your foot had just landed on the fifth step of the stairs when a loud BANG sounded overhead. Someone behind you jumped and your knuckles turned white on the railing as your ears strained to listen.

Growling.

More than that, it was a snarling desperate noise that was soon followed with another bang.

“Something’s trapped up there,” you whispered and another thud succeeded your claim.

“Someone trapped Marik in his own hideout?” Joey asked.

“I don’t think so,” Yugi answered, his eyes staring into the dark landing above. “I think it’s something else.”

Atem stepped up beside you, “Let’s find out.”

Since there was extremely little ambient light ahead, you lit a small flame in the palm of your hand before stepping up to the landing. The growling and banging were louder now, and it seemed to grow more and more erratic as you stepped down the hallway. It wasn’t hard to find the source of the ruckus, even among all the closed doors. The shaking wood and padlock over the door were dead giveaways. The metal screws holding it together were ripping away from the wood more and more with every thud and snarling growl until-

“Get down!”

You saw Joey grab Yugi as he threw himself out of the way of the flying door and something came charging out! In a flash of red and snarls the thing lunged at Atem before he could move. The vampire grunted in pain as he toppled to the ground with the thing and you saw that it had clamped down on Atem’s arm. Though the humanoid thing had him pinned, Atem still had the upper hand as it spilled his blood. With one swift hard punch, he broke its nose, sending it skittering back, hissing and spitting with pain. Joey grabbed it before it could recover and tried to put it in a headlock, but the thing struggled and writhed so much that it escaped his grip- though the cost was a sickening snap; a broken limb.

It tried to claw at Joey with it’s one good hand but with a harsh wave of your own, you sent the thing flying back into the dark closet it had been trapped in. A howl of pain and angry hiss in the dark later and it was lunging back at you from the shadows. It was too easy to grab the beast that time. The horrid creature was weak, broken, starving; acting on pure instinct and need to feed. And though you hated the fact, the merciful thing to do was to put it out of its misery. Before it could break free of your hold you gave it that mercy with one quick snap and it fell to the ground with its neck bent unnaturally.

As you and the boys watched it- no, the man’s face, which had been twisted and contorted like an animal’s, slowly returned to something that looked human. The man’s clothes were tattered and bloody and some obvious marks of abuse lay across the skin you could see. Maybe if you had gotten there days ago, you could have helped him, but not now, not after what Marik had done to him.

“A revenant,” you said with a defeated sigh.

“A- a what?” Yugi asked, not being able to take his eyes off of the body.

You made him look up at you, he didn’t need to see it, didn’t need to think about what the man had been put through before death. “How much do you know about vampires and how they’re turned?” you asked. Yugi shook his head, and his second-long glance at Atem told you that his resident vampire didn’t like to talk about it. “Well, there’s a reason the whole world isn’t overrun with vampires. Even if one tries to turn a human, there’s no guarantee they’ll survive. Most die during the process, like a virus tearing their bodies apart. Others who don’t turn into full-fledged vampires, but are a little too strong to die, turn into revenants. Their minds are gone, and they don’t even have the strength, speed, or healing powers that full vampires get. All they can do is act on their need to feed on blood. They’re husks, unable to think or feel, and usually too weak to survive more than a couple of days after being turned.” You let out a heavy sigh and ran your hand over your face. “Bonz said that Marik’s been taking humans from all over town. He probably tries to turn them all so he can grow his horde of minions.”

Joey’s eyes met yours, “So, when this guy didn’t look like he was going to turn full vamp, Marik locked him up in there and waited-”

“Waited for us to find him.”

Atem’s cut in made the rest of you look round, and you saw Atem, with his jaw clenched, staring into the dark depths of the closet. He stepped forward and turned on the light so the rest of you could see. There, scrawled in the sickly brown of dried blood on the wall, was a message. “You’ll have to try harder than that, your highness!”

Atem’s chest was heaving as he stared intently at the wall, his gaze looking as if it might start burning holes in the offwhite painted wood.

Beside you, you heard Joey question, “Your highness?”

“It’s...it’s what Marik calls Atem,” Yugi answered lowly.

The words were barely out before Atem let out a roar and drove his fist into the wall. The plaster gave way easily, looking like a busted eggshell as blood dripped down his forearm. A moment later Atem wrenched his arm back and you could see the bones and abrasions already healing. If only whatever was raging inside him was soothed so quickly.

Without a word, Atem turned on his heels and stormed down the dark hallway. Yugi, looking so forlorn that it almost broke your heart, watched him go for a second before turning to you and Joey.

“Give us a minute, kay?”

You and the wolf nodded as Yugi went after his lover. Once he was gone you turned your sights back to the body at your feet. He was young. Pale skin, head shaved, and marks on his lips, nose, and ears that said he likely had had numerous piercings. Marik, or rather, his followers likely picked him up at some rave club with the promise of a good time. Still, no matter the age, or lifestyle, no one deserved this.

“Can you do me a favor?” You asked, looking up at Joey, who nodded. “Can you go get a bowl of bleach water and a rag? We’ll need to clean that up,” you jerked your head at the bloody message.

When Joey started back down the stairs to do just that, you turned your sights down the row of doors in the hallway. After trying three of them, you found the linen closet, and took a nice silken white sheet from one of the shelves.

With as much respect and care as you could manage, you started wrapping the young man’s body up, arranging his limbs in a dignified pose. It wasn’t much, but it was better than rotting away in a messy heap until the owner came home. With some effort, you cast a teleportation spell and moved his body to the nearest hospital, where he might at least be returned to his family if he had one.

Seconds later Joey returned with the requested items and it didn’t take much to scrub the blood away. Bleach didn’t hide blood residue completely, but at least now when the owner returned from his work trip, he’d simply think his home was robbed and not the sight of a murder or two. You explained as much to Joey as you two walked back downstairs together.

Wanting to give the boys some more time alone, you took a moment to examine the kitchen. It was messy. Dishes stacked high, half-cut veggies lying rotting on the counter, containers of food open and forgotten on the breakfast bar. Very odd, considering vampires didn’t have to eat food and these certainly weren’t the potent types that would appeal to a vampire. And you highly doubted any homeowner with a professional job would be this sloppy before leaving on a work trip.

“Joey, you said that you smelled several human scents in this house?” You asked.

The werewolf gave the air a short sniff, “Yep. And it’s not just the owner's scent either. They’re just as fresh as the other two vampire scents I’m smelling, and I’m assuming one of them is Marik’s.”

“Interesting. Well, at least this whole trip wasn’t for nothing.”

“Huh?”

For now, you only answered him with a smile before turning and wandered back into the other rooms of the house. It didn’t take much to find where Yugi and Atem had gotten to, however, when you turned the corner of said room your heart gave a bit of a flutter. They were standing close, Yugi’s hands cradling Atem’s face as he whispered soft reassurances to the vampire. Atem had his eyes closed against the affection and held his hands over Yugi’s, letting himself calm his breathing, calm his anger, under the incubus’ care.

The scene was so tender, so intimate, and found yourself having to snap out of your staring state. You turned to leave them be but the moment you whisked behind the door frame, Atem called out to you.

Feeling more sheepish than you ever remember feeling, you leaned back into their sight, “Uh, sorry, I didn’t mean to intrude.”

“You didn’t,” Atem assured gently. He turned, still holding one of Yugi’s hands in his own as he asked, “So, where does this leave us? I doubt Marik has left anything behind that might help us find him.”

“Actually, he did. He really needs to learn to clean up after himself, or rather, clean up after his traveling companions. There’s evidence that humans and one other vampire were staying here with him.”

Atem raised an eyebrow, “Wouldn’t those humans be the ones he’s been killing and trying to turn?”

“I doubt he’s feeding the ones he’s killing.”

“So how does that help us?” Yugi asked, trying to sound hopeful.

“One thing that’s always hurt my investigation before, was the fact that even Marik’s followers don’t seem to know anything about him. Even though they’re doing his bidding, they don’t seem to have much interaction with him. But Joey’s nose and the mess in the kitchen proves that he has at least a few close followers who’re staying with him. Chances are one or all of them are the ones who go out and do his dirty work.”

Yugi smirked, “So if we find them, we’ll find Marik.”

“But how exactly do we find a lead on these close followers?” Atem asked a bit briskly.

That was the part that made your stomach clench like a vice. You knew you wouldn’t be able to avoid it for long, not with your limited resources now that you were severed from the Circle. The mere thought of this resort made your skin crawl a bit, but, you just couldn’t stand seeing Atem so upset at the loss of a lead. If any of your contacts had any info about these special lackeys, it would be the long-haired city lord himself.

You let yourself heave a heavy sigh, “I think it’s time we pay a visit to Pegasus.”

[wisdomrays]

TAFAKKUR: Part 56

Nanomedicine: A Novel Paradigm to Medicine

Nowadays, we have been accustomed to hear “nano-something,” and we hardly pay any attention to what this really means to us in our daily life. From the perspective of material science, nanoscience or nanotechnology deals with innovations and productions of materials on a nanometer scale (10-9 m) which exhibit unique properties with respect to their sizes and compositions. In general, such technologies could find applications in a variety of fields such as medicine, electronics, material sciences, etc.

The fascinating aspect of these materials stems from the fact that when certain particles or devices are manufactured on the nanometer size region by means of special chemical and physical methods, they start showing distinct properties dependent on size, shape, and elemental compositions (such as huge amount of light absorption/emission, plasmonic resonance, high surface area, ability to convert light into heat, desirable magnetic properties, etc). Each of these features have found many applications in technology and they provide superior properties when compared to conventional materials. This article will not cover each technology based on nanomaterials but rather focus on the medical aspects and applications of nanotechnology and the direction it is heading.

Nano-medicine is a novel branch of nanotechnology seeking to deliver medically relevant drugs and imaging agents to the desired sites of the body. Biomedical imaging and drug delivery fields are benefitting from nanotechnology to a greater extent because not only do nanomaterials provide unprecedented results in diagnosis and therapies, considerable amounts of incentives in the form of governmental and private funding also drive topnotch institutions and scientists to study these materials around globe. For instance, iron oxide—when designed and manufactured on the nanometer order—can compete with, if not replace, most of the commercial magnetic resonance imaging (MRI) contrast agents due to some of its attributes, (i.e., being much more sensitive) requiring a less amount compared to other contrast agents, non-toxic to humans, and easy to manipulate in terms of its chemistry. Nanometer-sized spherical and rod-shaped Cadmium/Tellerium/Lead sulfides and selenides, also known as “Quantum Dots,” can absorb and emit light from ultra-violet (UV) to infrared region (IR) and this phenomenon could be utilized to construct biomedical sensors capable of detecting biologically relevant species (such as blood glucose, tumor markers, hormones, and etc.) with great accuracy and speed. Even by using multiple colors emitting “Quantum Dots,” one can, in principle, detect more than one biological entity simultaneously. Furthermore, their superior emissive properties could be harnessed to develop sensitive and selective fluorescence imaging techniques and assays which can lead to simple and early diagnosis of diseases. Gold nanorods, if irradiated with IR lasers, can generate extreme local temperatures in the surrounding medium owing to “plasmonic resonance of surface electrons,” and this feature could be directed to killing of localized tumor tissues known as “Photothermal Theraphy”.

Another class of nanomaterial called liposomes can actually mimic lipid bilayer of the cell membrane which gives rise to a protective layer around organelles and nucleus, and maintains the transport of ions and molecules in and out of the cell. Synthetic liposomes, strikingly, can accommodate various cargoes extending from drugs to imaging agents in their inner cavity and render controlled release of its cargo as it circulates in the body, thereby providing longer bio-availability.

One of the most alluring uses of nanoparticle formulations in cancer therapy is their dimension. Certain sizes of nanoparticles can permeate into tumoral sites and be retained in that region longer than small particles or molecules. This extraordinary feature of nanoparticles, called “enhanced permeability and retention effect”, was utilized with liposomes to deliver chemotherapeutics to cancerous tissues effectively in a slow and controlled manner. In addition, chemical malleability of nanoparticles give rise to smart formulations which could respond to external stimuli in drug delivery applications. For example, the fact that cancer cells have lower pH values as compared to normal cells has been used to trigger release and delivery of drugs on site.

An alternative approach to conventional treatments is gene therapy in which the malfunctioning or mutant gene has been reintroduced into cells with a properly functioning one in order to restore the malady. Nanoparticles, especially polymeric counterparts, have shown promising results in encapsulating, carrying and delivering the gene of interest into desired cells.

Apart from synthetic nanoparticles, naturally occurring nanoparticles, have lately received great attention due to their unique structures and properties such as biocompatibility, uniform size, as well as suitability to chemical and genetic engineering. Plant and bacterial viruses, known as viral nanoparticles, have been tested for imaging and drug delivery applications, and because they infect only plants and bacteria, they are considered to be benign towards mammalians. Their inner and outer amino acids could be chemically modified with drugs and imaging modalities and cleverly engineered drug release mechanism could be invoked to operate upon external or internal stimulus.

Nanomaterials are, furthermore, suitable candidates for vaccine development. The immune system normally recognizes certain chemical groups on the surface of antigens (pathogens) and develops its defense mechanism based on this recognition. Multiple copies of these chemical groups could be chemically tailored around the surface of nanomaterial, and thereby could trigger the same immune response more efficiently.

The future of medicine will be shaped and enhanced through a targeted delivery of drugs and imaging contrasts into desired sites. Promisingly, nanoparticles will be able to assist in this regard to a considerable extent. Today’s cancer chemotherapy rely mostly on administering a variety of cancer drugs via intravenous (injecting through the vein) or oral means which delivers drugs to cancer cells as well as a considerable amount to healthy tissues which causes major side effects. In order to accumulate higher doses of drugs in tumor cells selectively and minimize nonspecific delivery, nanoparticles loaded with drugs and chemically decorated with “smart molecules” which have the ability to recognize cancer cells and specifically bind to them have been designed and tested successfully. These smart groups (organic molecules, antibodies, peptides and small molecules), surprisingly, have higher binding affinities toward some receptors over-expressed in cancer cells. Furthermore, encapsulation of drugs by nanomaterials provides a protective shell which prevents leakage of drugs to other sites.

An important drawback of cancer therapy is drug resistance in which cancer cells develop mechanisms to pump chemotherapeutics out of cells and decreases the efficacy of drugs. Nanoparticles, however, invalidate these resistance mechanisms by encapsulating drugs and should therefore not be exposed directly to surrounding cell environment. When nanoparticles reach the desired destination in the cell, an engineered mechanism or stimulus augment the release and drugs are expected to show their activity without any compromise.

It is fascinating to see how these small nanoparticles behave cleverly and orderly even though they look like inanimate and unconscious clusters of atoms. The extraordinary art, design and engineering witnessed in macro dimensions can also be seen in nano dimensions which means that a conscious and purposeful Hand of Power is present and visible in this nanoworld.

To sum up, nanomaterials could be ideal platforms for drug delivery and imaging applications and could complement the deficiencies in conventional therapies. Loading multiple copies of these entities into nanoparticles and devising clever mechanisms to target and deliver them into desired sites would be key elements in the nanomedicine of the future. We are living in a world where each of us has someone in our families or among our friends who are going through painful cancer treatments, which is a heart-rending and traumatic experience. Hopefully, nanomaterial-based therapies would give rise to solutions and success in battling against cancer. For in one prophetic tradition the Prophet Muhammad, peace be upon him, says: “O servants of God! Search for ways for treatment of illnesses. If God gives you ailments, for sure He bestows upon you cures for those.��

And why can’t this bestowal be in the nano form?

[jilyyall]

Animal Magnetism - Ch 9.

Edward Cullen was not a normal teenager; of that I was certain. But knowing that did nothing to stop the pull I felt towards him. And if what he was saying was any indication, he felt some strange pull towards me, too. It was like we were magnets struggling against hope to stay apart. I only wondered what would happen when we inevitably collided.

Chapter 9. Iron Will. FANFICTION.NET / AO3 Intro/1/2/3/4/5/6/7/8/9/10/11/12/

I took my time showering, dressing, and brushing my hair the next morning, trying to avoid my parents until they both left so that I didn't have to endure more questions about the mysterious Edward who drove me home. I ran out the front door maybe two minutes after I heard Renee's car pull out of the driveway, my truck key in hand.

And stopped, heart hammering in the damp air that promised rain momentarily, when I saw a silver Volvo where Renee usually parked. In the blink of an eye, Edward was outside and holding the passenger door open for me.

"Would you like a ride to school?" he asked. He was watching me carefully like he was worried I would have changed my mind about being near him, alone with him, in the last ten hours and thirty-two minutes.

"Yes. Thank you," I said, and walked over to him, trying my best to exude confidence even though I knew he could hear my heart hammering.

I brushed by him, closer than was strictly necessary, and slid into the car. He closed the door softly and instantaneously was sitting next to me, looking at me with that same expression he had when he'd done the same thing in Port Angeles.

"You're not going to scare me off with that," I informed him as I buckled my seat belt.

"I could scare you," he said with a thoughtful frown.

"I'm sure you're capable," I allowed, and shrugged. "But it doesn't make a difference to me."

"Yes, I remember," he said. "As it happens, I like being able to be myself around you."

For some odd reason, it sounded like he was frustrated. With me for not running away screaming? Very likely. With himself for not wanting to hide who he really was from me? Well, that seemed pretty likely as well, given what I knew of his personality and considering the several warnings he had given me that I would be better to stay away from him.

"You were going to tell me how your family was formed," I reminded him as he turned the key in the ignition.

He talked me through it, speaking quietly, carefully, as if expecting it to suddenly become too much.

"Carlisle found me dying of the Spanish Influenza in the summer of 1918 in Chicago. He was lonely, you see, after so long on his own, and had been considering making a companion for himself since he was having no luck finding one. He had treated my parents, but wasn't able to cure them. My mother… it was her dying wish that Carlisle save me. He saw something in me – I think I was especially perceptive even then, and he could see it. He was fond of me, so when it was clear to him that there was no saving me conventionally, he took me from the hospital – it wasn't hard to hide, so many bodies everywhere – and he changed me."

"I still, to this day, don't understand how he was able to stop from feeding on me. Mine was his first taste of human blood. I don't know how he's managed it, but in almost half a millennium, Carlisle has never fed on a human."

Half a millennium? I bit my lip, thinking of the young, attractive small town doctor, and trying to reconcile him with someone almost five hundred years old. It didn't seem possible, but how could I doubt Edward now?

"Do you remember it all from your own perspective? Or are they Carlisle's memories you have?" I wondered aloud.

"Some of both. I don't remember my human life very clearly, as I said last night, only small details that seemed important to hold onto. I remember even less from when I was dying. The fever was so intense…" he said, and I saw his grip on the steering wheel tighten. "Mostly, I just remember the pain."

"The pain? Of being ill?" I asked.

"No." He sighed and turned to look at me as he guided the car to a smooth stop at a red light. "The bite, and the subsequent transformation. It's days of agony, burning as the venom spreads through the body until the heart stops. And then, a different sort of burning when you wake."

"Hot iron down the throat?" I guessed, recalling the description from the night before.

"Something like that," he said with a wry smile, and his gaze flickered over me.

"Wait," I said, horrified. "Is it more painful now, with me? Even more painful than when you first woke up?"

"In some ways," he said, and shrugged. "When you first wake, it's different. It's… primal… the urge to feed… there's no fighting it. There's no caging the monster in. There is only the call of blood. Now, it's different. My body and my mind and my heart are constantly at war around you. You're lucky I'm a very stubborn being, Bella."

It was silent for a moment, one of those silences where I knew Edward was just waiting for my reaction. I looked at him, right in his eyes. "What about the others? How did they come along?"

He sighed and shook his head and I knew I hadn't given him the reaction he'd expected, the one he felt he deserved. Horror, I guessed. Or maybe repulsion.

"Esme was next. She fell from a cliff and was on the verge of death. He'd treated her in the hospital before, years earlier, had affection for her, and she for him. He couldn't bear the thought of her dying, so he changed her. They've been married for nearly a century."

"Then Rosalie. She was beaten and left for dead in the street. He brought her home and changed her. It was only two years later she found Emmett being mauled by a bear in Tennessee. She carried him more than a hundred miles back to Carlisle and begged him to change him for her. The amount of restraint she showed only two years after her own change was astonishing. To be able to resist all that blood when she was covered in it? It's not a simple thing, but she felt something for him and she knew he was going to be important to her."

"Did you see that in her mind?" I asked curiously. Somehow, I couldn't imagine Rosalie Hale sitting and talking with Edward about her feelings. But what did I know? I only saw the façade they put on at school. For all I knew, she was warm and inviting at home, and the stoic intimidating exterior in public was just a ruse.

"Yes. She used to be very annoyed with me that I could hear everything she was thinking," he told me. "She would try to block me out, but it didn't always work very well."

"And now?" I asked.

"There are no secrets in my family now. They are all free with their thoughts around me," Edward said, and scowled. "Too free, sometimes."

"You can't control it?" I asked. What must it be like to constantly have everyone else's thoughts in his mind when he didn't want them?

"I've learned to tune it out at times," Edward said dismissively. "In a crowd, it's almost like background noise. It's more difficult for me to tune out my family, though. The more familiar I am with someone, the stronger the connection."

"It must be terribly inconvenient," I said.

"Yes, it can be," he said, but he didn't sound inconvenienced. He'd clearly made his peace with the fact that he could so rarely enjoy true solitude. "They've each learned their own way of temporarily hiding their thoughts. Except for Emmett, who's never bothered to try. He's very open and honest and he doesn't see the point of trying to hide anything from me when I'll just find out anyway."

It all sounded very fascinating, and I wanted so badly to learn more about their family dynamic, but first I had to finish the story of how his family came together. "What about Alice and Jasper? You said they came together and found the rest of you."

"Yes. Jasper was changed when he was serving as a soldier in the Civil War, almost sixty years before me. He didn't have the same upbringing as the rest of us. He fed only on humans until he and Alice found each other in 1948. She helped him learn how to curb his instinct to kill humans, to control it after nearly a century of feeding on humans."

"Is that why he always looks like he's in pain?" I asked.

"It's part of it," Edward said. "It's more difficult for him to curb his nature. He struggles more than the rest of us."

"Why do you do it?" If it was so difficult, why did they bother to deny their instincts?

"We… have a fondness for humanity," Edward said slowly. "We respect the living; we see the people rather than the prey. And we don't… we don't want to be monsters."

"I don't think you're a monster, Edward," I said quietly. He looked dubious, as if he didn't quite believe me, but he didn't argue. "What's Alice's story?"

"She doesn't know," Edward answered. "She doesn't remember anything before she woke in the dark."

"Nothing?" I asked.

"All she remembers is waking up alone in 1920. She stayed that way until she and Jasper found each other, nearly thirty years later," Edward said gravely. "They haven't been apart since."

I pictured the smallest of the Cullens: flitting, pixie-like, fragile. Of course, that was just her appearance; I knew she wasn't defenseless, wasn't as harmless as she looked. All the same, I couldn't imagine the pain and loneliness she must have suffered waiting so long for her soulmate.

"It's so sad," I whispered, my voice breaking. I wondered, then, if it had been like that for Edward: lonely and sad. What was it like to be surrounded by happy couples, soulmates, to hear the force of their love in your mind, and have no one to share it with? I felt tears welling hot in my eyes and blinked quickly, swiping at a single errant tear. Embarrassed, I looked at Edward to see that he was staring at me again in stunned disbelief.

"Yes, it is," he agreed after a moment, his voice very gentle in the quiet space between us.

I realized that the car was no longer moving; we had arrived at school and parked close to the middle of the lot while he was speaking. There was a soft tapping on the hood of the car; the heavy clouds had finally produced the promised rain.

"Do you want your jacket back?" I said, feeling awkward; he was still watching me with that almost awestruck expression. I was wearing his jacket again, in part because I only had the one suitable jacket I'd left in Mike's car the night before, and partly because I'd been planning to return it to him as soon as I'd seen him anyway. That, and I couldn't get enough of the smell.

"No, Bella," he said softly, and there was something strange in his eyes. Hunger, I thought with a flush, but not the dangerous kind. "It actually serves its purpose on you."

He leaned over the center console, just like he had last night, and pressed his face to my neck and inhaled deeply again.

"Not that I mind," I said breathlessly as he began to run his nose along my jawline, just like he had done in Port Angeles. "But why do you do that? Doesn't it hurt you?"

"Yes," he murmured in my ear, but he didn't pull away. "It's enjoyable, though. And necessary. Think of it as if… I'm desensitizing."

He pulled away with a small, wicked smile. "That, and I like the way your heart races."

"Well," I said, swallowing thickly. He was still so close, his amber eyes inches from mine. I wanted him closer still. "I'm happy to help you desensitize. Feel free to continue."

"As much as I would love to – and, believe me, I would love to," he laughed ruefully, shaking his head, and then gestured out the window to indicate the full parking lot, "we have an audience, and they think we're doing something very different."

"Oh," I said, looking around in horror. I made eye contact with a couple walking in front of the car; the girl averted her gaze quickly, giggling to her boyfriend. I groaned. "Great."

"Are you ready?" Edward asked, reaching for the handle of his door.

"I guess." I sighed, though. I really didn't want to leave the confines of his car. I wished more than anything else that we could be alone again. I just had so many more questions for him.

Edward met me as I stepped out of the car, moving at a normal human pace, and shut the door for me. When he reached to take my books from me, I stepped back.

"What are you doing?"

He quirked an eyebrow, but otherwise didn't acknowledge my discomfort, taking the strap of my bag and sliding it off my shoulder.

"Bella," he said in a long-suffering voice. "Before the end of first period, everyone in this school is going to hear how we were just making out in my car. How would I look if I didn't even carry your books for you after that?"

"But, we weren't," I hissed, hurrying to catch up to him when he turned to walk across the lot.

"Would you like to tell them that, then?" Edward said. I could see the upward quirk of his lips; he knew I wouldn't say anything to anyone. "Besides, what we were actually doing is, in truth, much more scandalous. I'm only trying to preserve my reputation as a gentleman."

"It isn't 1918 anymore, Edward. You're being ridiculous," I said, then shook my head. I knew I wasn't going to win this one. "But, if I just think of it as protecting your reputation, I can bear it."

"I appreciate that. It's very noble of you," Edward teased.

I was aware of all of the eyes on us, but I couldn't find it in myself to care too much. I enjoyed being around Edward more than I hated the attention that came with it.

"Hey, where are the others? You usually drive them," I said, suddenly struck by the realization that his siblings were nowhere to be found.

He nodded to a bright red convertible on the other side of the parking lot. "Rosalie drove today."

"What does your family think about all this?" I asked. I knew I didn't have to explain that I meant us.

He was silent for a while. We were almost to the awning people usually crowded under when it was raining by the time he answered.

"Most of my siblings think I'm being irresponsible," he said carefully. "You have to understand that the entire family will be implicated if this ends badly. My parents just want me to be happy, so they're willing to support me in whatever decision I make."

"Is there something you haven't decided?" I asked very quietly. He had said I won't ever hurt you, Bella last night, and he'd said it more than once, so I was confident that he wasn't still deciding whether or not to kill me. What more was there?

"No, Bella," he answered. "I've made up my mind."

I still didn't think he was talking about the murder and blood drinking, but I knew it wasn't the time or place to push for clarification. "You said, most of your siblings?" I said instead.

"Yes," he said, his eyes narrowing in thought, like he was deciding how much to tell me. "Alice is very supportive."

"She is?" I said, surprised. I had never had any contact with any of the Cullens other than Edward and Dr. Cullen. I couldn't think of any good reason for his sister to like me, though I did remember her smiling at me the other day at lunch. "Why?"

"Alice can be strange sometimes," Edward said, still carefully choosing his words with a frown, and I remembered we couldn't speak freely here, not with so many people around. "She thinks you two will be the best of friends."

He glanced sideways at me, and smiled ruefully at what I was sure was the shocked expression on my face. "She has good reason," he added.

I filed that away for future clarification.

"Morning, Bella!" I looked up at Jessica's call to see her and Mike standing just ahead, under the awning several feet back from the light rain. Mike had my jacket folded over his arm.

"Hey, guys," I said when Edward and I drew level with them.

"Here," Mike said, handing me my jacket with a frown. "I thought you might need this."

"Thanks, Mike. You're a lifesaver," I said, swapping jackets as quickly as I could. Edward inclined his head when I handed him his jacket with a soft, "Thank you."

"Well, we'll leave you two to it," Jessica said with a sidelong glance at Edward. She gave me an expectant look that Edward pretended not to notice.

"See you in government, Bella," Mike said with a grumpy scowl.

"Yeah, sure," I agreed.

Edward chuckled when they walked away, stepping closer to me and lowering his voice. "She's planning to ambush you in Trigonometry."

"Yeah, I figured," I said with a sigh, then studied him speculatively. "What does she want to know?"

"She wants to know if we're secretly dating, or if we're just hooking up," he said at once. Then, after the briefest hesitation, "And if I'm a good kisser."

"But…" I stopped, and looked at him in panic. I didn't know any of the answers, except that we definitely were not hooking up. "What do I tell her?"

"I suppose you could tell her we're dating, if you don't mind. I think it would be easier than the alternative, since we'll be spending so much time together anyway," he said, grasping the handle of the door to the English building and holding the door for me.

"I don't mind," I said, then peered up at him shyly as we stopped outside my classroom. "I mean, it's kind of the truth… Isn't it?"

He looked at me with such tenderness, and stroked a single long-fingered hand through my hair. "Yes, Bella. You're right," he murmured, and then turned and began to walk away.

"Wait," I said, glancing warily at the people walking through the hallway. "What about that other thing?"

"Well, Bella, I'm afraid you're on your own with that one" he said, pausing at the door to give me a taunting wink. "But I'll be curious to hear how you handle it."

And then he was gone, leaving me to endure English class with Eric moping in the corner, and then Government with Mike shooting me furtive, sidelong glances. I knew he wanted to talk to me, probably to try to discourage me from seeing Edward anymore, but I was too preoccupied with the upcoming ambush to care.

Jessica was waiting for me outside of building six after my government class. It was a testament to how eager she was for gossip that she barely spared Mike a greeting before she hooked her arm through mine and practically dragged me along towards building five, and our Trigonometry class.

"Spill," she said as soon as Mike was out of earshot.

"About what?" I asked reluctantly.

"Did you plan to meet up with Edward last night? What happened after you left us? Did you hook up? Are you guys dating? Is he your boyfriend? Is he a good kisser?" She fired questions off rapid-fire so that my head was spinning by the time we walked into our classroom.

"Um," I said once I sat down. "No, I had no idea he was going to be there. I was as surprised to see him as the rest of you were."

"Why did he come? Just to see you? Just because he knew you would be there?" she demanded, leaning across the aisle to whisper so that we couldn't easily be overheard.

I shrugged awkwardly and tucked my hair behind my ear, acutely aware that Edward would be paying close attention to Jessica's thoughts.

"I… yeah, I guess so," I stammered. "We just went outside to talk… only to talk. And he gave me his jacket because I was cold."

"Because you left your jacket in Mike's car," Jessica said with a nod. "Did he really just take you home after? Or did you go somewhere else?"

"Well he was concerned that I hadn't eaten since breakfast, so we stopped at that Italian restaurant near the theatre."

"Oh, how thoughtful," Jessica said. "So, are you planning to hang out again? Are you guys, like, a thing?"

"Y-yeah, I… I guess," I said, ducking beneath my desk to rummage through my bag for my notebook and pencil. It was a pretty obvious attempt to hide my blush, I thought, but Jessica wasn't the most observant person, and I could only hope it hadn't registered in her thoughts. "He's driving me to Seattle next Saturday."

"Oh… But you guys should go to the dance!" Jessica protested.

"No, definitely not," I said, shaking my head firmly. "I don't surf, and I don't dance. Trust me, it's for the best."

"I bet Edward can dance," she said dreamily. "Rich kids go through classes like that all the time."

"I bet he can." I doubted if there was anything he couldn't do.

"Have you met his family yet? Has he met your parents? Has your dad pulled the Police Chief card and scared the crap out of him?"

"I've only met his dad. Dr. Cullen treated me after the almost accident," I reminded her. "Apparently, though, he thinks I'll get along well with Alice. He hasn't met my parents, but something tells me even the Chief won't scare him."

Jessica snorted softly. "I wonder if he'll pull the whole cleaning his gun routine when it happens."

Thankfully, class started just then, affording me a short reprieve from her questions. Of course, the second the bell rang she was at my side with more.

"Well?" she said impatiently, as if I had failed to answer a question she had asked two seconds ago, not an hour ago. At my blank look, she made a 'tsk'ing noise and lowered her voice to a hiss in my ear again. "Is he a good kisser?"

"Oh." I bit my lip, and hugged my books to my chest, thinking over my options carefully. She just assumed that we had kissed; I figured it was weirder for me to say that we hadn't, but I wasn't confident in my ability to lie to her. I decided on some semblance of the truth. "Um, you know… it's really embarrassing, actually, but every time he comes near me, much less touches me, I feel like I'm about to pass out."

Jessica giggled. "W-o-w," she said, drawing it out into a three-syllable word.

"Anyway," I said, quickly taking advantage of her silence as we approached our Spanish classroom. "Bring me up to speed on what happened after I left last night. You and Mike are looking pretty cozy."

"I know, right?" She squealed, her brown curls bouncing on her shoulders. "He dropped me off after everybody else even though Angela lives closer to him, and he kissed me!"

"That's awesome, Jess," I said with a genuine smile. It seemed Mike had taken what I'd said to heart, and had decided to leap into it with Jessica.

"Yeah, I mean, I didn't almost pass out or anything," she said, rolling her eyes playfully. "But it was really nice!"

"Are you guys going out again before the dance, or what?" I asked.

"I think he wants to go see another movie this weekend. A slasher flick this time," she said. "Oh, you and Edward should come!"

I pursed my lips in an awkward smile as I slid into my seat. "I don't know, Jess." I shrugged and reached into my bag for a pen. "Mike really doesn't seem to like Edward."

"Whatever, he'll get over it." She rolled her eyes. "I don't think any of the guys here like any the Cullen boys. It's just because they're all super hot, though. Don't worry about it."

We took our seats in Spanish just as the bell rang and I was relieved, for once, when Mrs. Goff announced a pop quiz. Next to me, Jessica groaned with the rest of the class.

"Who gives a pop quiz on a Monday? Seriously messed up. Anyway, are you having lunch with Edward again?" Jessica asked me as we started putting our books away after class. She paused, staring at something out the window. Turning, I saw Edward standing under a tree, looking at me. Jessica laughed breathlessly next to me. "I guess that's my answer. I'll see you in Gym."

By the time I stepped into the drizzle outside, he was standing there at the door with an amused smile. Once again, he took my book bag without preamble. "How did it go?"

I glowered at him and didn't answer; he already knew, of course. Hadn't he basically told me he would be listening in on Jessica's thoughts? He laughed at me as we started walking to the cafeteria and the mesmerizing sound made it difficult to feel awkward about the stares we were getting again.

"You nearly faint whenever I get too close to you?" He held open the door to the cafeteria with a smirk.

"Please. Like you didn't already know that." Following him into the line, I rolled my eyes. Then, in a truly terrible impression of his smooth, melodic teasing earlier in the car: "I like the way your heart races."

He took a lunch tray, slanting an almost nervous look down at me. "Are you annoyed with me already?"

"No," I assured him, eyeing the tremendous amount of food he piled onto the tray dubiously. He couldn't honestly expect me to eat all of that. "What? Half's for you?"

"Of course," he said with a wink for me, and a smile for the lunch lady as he paid her. She stared after him when he turned away; even middle-aged women weren't immune to his charm, I realized with a small smirk as I followed him.

He sat at the end of the same long, half-occupied table we'd shared the week before, but this time I chose to sit in the seat next to him. I worried my proximity would alarm him, but he moved his chair closer still, so close that our arms would brush each time I reached for something from the tray. I wanted to ask him so many questions, but I was worried that we would be easily overheard. Correctly guessing the reason for my hesitation, he smiled softly and angled his body toward me, leaning in.

"The other students here aren't as curious as you," he reminded me. "Besides, it's incredibly difficult to be overheard in a noisy, crowded lunch room. We can talk."

"Is it difficult for you to pretend to be just like any other person?" I asked quietly.

"In what way?" Edward said. He leaned his opposite forearm against the table, and his torso hunched slightly as he leaned towards me. We looked, I was sure, very secretive, but I figured most people would likely attribute it to new love.

"Physically, I mean. Like your speed. I know you said last night that you hate going slow, but is it difficult for you to move at a more … normal pace, for lack of a better term?" I clarified. "And the strength. I know you're capable of massive shows of strength. Are you, I don't know, concentrating really hard right now not to crush that?"

I gestured to his hands. He was fiddling absently with my empty soda bottle.

"Regarding the speed," he began slowly, pausing when someone walked behind us, "it's not difficult, per se, to move at a normal pace. It's just boring. And the strength?"

In a flash, the bottle was a ball of plastic no bigger than a golf ball. He smiled at me and set it down on table between us.

"It's very easy to do things like this, and like … other things you've seen," he said cryptically as a boy I recognized from my Gym class walked in front of us. I knew he was referring to the day he'd stopped the van from crushing me. "But it's not difficult to handle delicate things. Your hand, for instance."

He reached over and took my hand in his, slid his fingers through mine smoothly. I marveled at the bold contact – he'd been fairly careful not to touch me too much last night. He turned our hands over so mine was resting on top of his on the table.

"I could very easily crush every bone in your hand, if I wanted," Edward said with a quick flash of a grin. "But it's not that I have to try not to hurt you in that way, it's that I would have to consciously expend the effort. Do you understand?"

I nodded. It wasn't like the bloodlust where he was focused nonstop on not killing me. He was like a regular boy in respect to his strength, unless he actively chose not to be. "Is it difficult right now? In the other way?"

He smiled serenely and shook his head. "No, Bella. Or, I should say, no more than I can handle."

"Is it… normal? The, um, the effect I have on you?" I said hesitantly. "Is it very strong like this, very often?"

He frowned, his eyes narrowing with some sort of internal debate. Finally, he sighed, and shook his head. "While not unheard of, it isn't common," he told me, speaking so quietly I had to strain to hear him. "Occasionally, there will be one person who is particularly enticing, but I've never heard of it being this strong before."

"Has it ever happened to you?" I asked. I hadn't yet asked him if he'd always followed his family's way of life, but it was on my list. I just wasn't sure how to word it, or how comfortable he would be discussing it. Something he had said in the car earlier made me suspect that he hadn't always had such a strong will, hadn't always rejected human blood.

I don't know how he's managed it, but in almost half a millennium, Carlisle has never fed on a human.

"No," he said. "But to Emmett. Twice, when he was still fairly new. Once stronger than the other, but nothing like this." He danced his long fingers lightly along the wrist of the hand he was holding, right over the veins there. "He tried, but ... couldn't resist. He's the youngest of us, it's more difficult."

Over his shoulder, I saw his siblings at their usual table. They weren't looking at us, but that didn't mean they weren't aware. Alice and Rosalie were on one side of the table with an untouched apple and a banana in front of them as they looked at their boyfriends... husbands? Across from them, Emmett and Jasper were playing a very ordinary-looking game of paper football on the tabletop. Shocked by the normalcy of the scene, I turned to Edward. "Can they hear us now?"

"Yes, they're listening," he said, watching me closely. "Does it bother you?"

I thought about it. Did it bother me to know that anything I ever said could be overheard? I didn't want to hide anything from Edward, and I wanted his family to know that they could trust me with their secrets. I couldn't lie to myself and deny that it was strange, knowing that I could only be certain I had privacy if I wasn't speaking, but nothing had changed. For the two months I'd been here, every conversation I'd ever had could have been overheard by any of the Cullens.

I shook my head, and shrugged. "It is what it is. It's the world I live in now."

Rosalie Hale turned suddenly, and glared at me so harshly that I flinched. She was the most beautiful woman I'd ever seen, but in that moment, her face was the stuff of nightmares. Edward stiffened and his free hand curled into a fist on the table between us. He scowled and hissed a low warning under his breath without looking up. Casually, Rosalie turned her head back to the other Cullens and shifted back into the ordinary illusion with ease.

"I'm sorry about her," he murmured and I remembered he had said that his siblings, save Alice, weren't very happy he was spending time with me so publicly.

"It's okay." I shrugged, but I was shaken. She'd looked so angry, almost as terrifying as Edward had been that first day. Now, looking at him sitting so calmly beside me, it seemed like a lifetime ago I'd been certain he wanted me dead. "I get it. This isn't just dangerous for me."

"I'm not going to lose this battle," he vowed quietly, and I knew he said it for his family's benefit, and maybe even his own, as much as mine. "I couldn't survive it if I did. Not after knowing you."

"That iron will of yours," I murmured.

"I get it from my father," Edward joked, and I knew he referred to Carlisle.

FFN/AO3

[trinuviel]

A Bad Fit. Some thoughts on Daenerys Targaryen’s white costume in season 8 (part 1)

I’m a big fan of Michele Clapton’s work on Game of Thrones and I’m always excited when we get a first look at the costumes for a new season - so in light of  the recent season 8 teaser, I want to present my initial thoughts on Daenerys Targaryen’s new costume.

(GIF by @athimbleful)

At first look, this costume looks almost identical to the show-stopping white fur coat that she wore in the penultimate episode of season 7 when she flew beyond the Wall to rescue Jon’s company on the suicide mission she had sent them on. However, this is a NEW costume and it includes a number of interesting details.

Michele Clapton has a particular pattern when it comes to the use of costumes to create continuity between the seasons. At the beginning of a new season she often dresses a character in a costume that they wore at the end of the previous season, but with a few new details or alterations - this is a strategy that she has used with both Margaery Tyrell and Sansa Stark. 

The situation with Dany is a bit different here. It is a new costume but it looks almost identical to the season 7 fur coat at first glance. However, when you look closer you can see that the grey stripes of the season 7 coat has been replaced with a deep red colour, bleeding through the white like blood on snow.

Another interesting detail is the fact that the new coat is lined with red fur. 

Even her gloves have gone from grey to red.

Red and black are the heraldic colours of House Targaryen and while Dany wore black in season 6, Clapton only started to introduce small touches of red into Dany’s costumes in season 7 in order to signal that she is now starting to fully embrace her Targaryen heritage as she begins her conquest of Westeros.

It was a conscious choice of Clapton to withhold the use of red in Dany’s costumes until then - and that makes the introduction of the colour that more powerful when it was finally used.

People always say, “Why don’t you have this, why can’t you add that?,” and it’s like, “Well, sometimes you have to wait for that — you have to wait for the journey and for them to seek it out. With Dany in particular, finally we’re getting the [Targaryen] red. She was a confused woman, she was wandering … trying to seek something. And now she’s finally got her armor, she’s finally got everything, and she can finally echo the style of her brother with the extended shoulders and the red and the symbolism. He always had the big Targaryen [sigil] on his chest and now she’s got the big chain with the dragon’s heads on it.” (Michele Clapton to the Insider)

However, clapton still used the red very sparingly in the season 7 costumes. Red embroidery as a discrete accent to the edges of Dany’s power “suits” as well as the more conspicuous cape of pleated silk that invokes dragon scales. Dany’s season 7 costumes were generally dark, in shades from black to dark grey. The white fur coat was in many ways a radical departure from the rest of the costumes though had the same silhouette with the wide, pointed shoulders.

The white fur coat represents something new in Dany’s season 7 arc - something that interferes with her quest for the Iron Throne in the form of the threat of the White Walkers as well as her growing attraction to Jon snow.

I felt that there should be a definite shift in her look as she embarks on the mission of aiding Jon’s team trapped north of the Wall. I think it’s the first time that she has really been to the aid of another individual—let’s face it, she’s not going because of the Hound!—and she is putting herself at risk. (Michele Clapton to Vanity Fair)

While the coat is also connected to the loss of her dragon Viserion through the cream and bronze scale pattern on the back (which makes me very curious as to how the back looks at Dany’s new red and white coat), the white coat is very much to her feelings for Jon Snow. So it makes sense that she arrives in Winterfell wearing a variation of the coat now that they have become lovers. 

What is especially intriguing is that she’s obviously toned down the overt Targaryen symbols. She’s still wearing her Three-Headed Dragon chain but her hair has been spread over the front of her coat, obscuring this ultimate symbol of her Targaryen identity.

Incidentally, she had a similar hairstyle at her first, hostile, meeting with Jon at Dragonstone - but her hair was styled so that her symbol of identity and authority was clearly visible despite the loose locks of hair that falls down the front of her outfit.

Now this symbol is partially obscured - and you get a sense that she’s trying not to look intimidating when she’s meeting her lover’s family and her new Northern allies. Yet her costume still retains small details that is associated with her Targaryen identity- most notably all the dark red details. She is now wearing much more red than she did in the previous season. The wide shoulders are also retained and though it is a bit difficult to see, the shoulders are embellished with embroidery that mimics dragon scales, which is a feature that has characterized her costumes since season 3.

However, even here the look is softened by the materials, first and foremost the white fur but also by the use of what I suspect are silver Tila beads, which have softer corners than the shiny, sharp-edged black sequins that were used for her season 7 costume.

When it comes to Clapton’s costume designs, even the smallest detail is important because it carries meaning, it says something about the character.

I always try to make the clothes visually tell something. (FIDM Museum Blog)

I always try to tell that story — the costumes for me are narrative and you should be able to look at them [the characters] and understand where they are mentally in their journey. (Insider)

So all of these new details in Dany’s costumes are meaningful, they tell something about her character in relation to where she is in her narrative arc - and in the beginning of season 7, Dany is in completely new territory and in a new situation for her since she wants to make a good impression. She’s in the home of her lover, meeting his family - and she is also there trying to win over a people who has had a bad history with her family. They don’t trust a Targaryen, so it makes sense for Dany to try not only to tone down her Targaryen identity in her costume but also trying to affect a Northern style. 

In past seasons, Clapton has used Dany’s costumes to signal either her embracing or her rejecting a culture. During her marriage to Khal Drogo, she wears traditional Dothraki costume whereas she wears white in Meereen (season 5) to signal her rejection and mental removal from their culture.

”[The white] signifies her mental removal from some of the scenes that she has to be in — like in the fight pit. She doesn’t actually want to be there, so we wanted to show visually that she was removed. It was chaotic and bloody and colorful, and there was supposed to be this purity in the middle. She was visually removing herself from the things that she disagreed with.“ (x)

Once again, Dany wears white - and while her white fur matches the snow on the ground, it doesn’t match anyone else. Visually, she stands out like a sore thumb among all the dark-clad Northerners. So how does this relate to my claim that she’s trying to fit in? Well, some of the new details in her costume are rather telling.

Firstly, in the new teaser Daenerys wears a red neck cloth - and that is significant. Now it is cold in the North and she wants to keep warm - so a neck cloth is not unreasonable in this scenario - from a Watsonian perspective. However, all details have meaning in Clapton’s work and it is worth noting that Dany didn’t wear any kind of neck cloth when she flew North in season 7. That means that this new detail is significant.

I’ve seen a number of people say that it looks a bit like the high-necked undershirts that Northern women wear under their dresses, especially Catelyn Stark. There is indeed a resemblance but also notable differences. Dany’s red neck-cloth is not only made of silk but it is also tied in an ascot know whereas the high-necked undershirts that Catelyn and Sansa wear are in neutral linens and cinched at the neck with a string. The material itself is also wrong - the silk is too extravagant for Northern dress where it is the intricate embroidery that signals status and wealth, not fancy fabrics. So if this detail is meant to signify Dany’s attempt at Northern dress, it signals that she’s getting it wrong!

Secondly, in the EW cover photo Dany wears a variation of the red-white fur coat that we see in the teaser, only now another new element has been added - a white fur mantle across her shoulders.

This is a much more overt reference to Northern dress since fur-covered shoulders has been an element of Northern dress, and specifically Stark dress, since the very beginning of the story. This would be yet another example of Dany trying to signal her attempt to be close to the North, or rather Jon in particular. However, once again this costume element is close but no cigar - so to speak. It is placed directly on her coat and not attached to a long cloak like we see with Jon and Sansa. Thus, both in colour and silhouette, Dany doesn’t match Jon at all - creating a dissonant cord when she stands next to him.

Another aspect is the fact that Dany’s fur is all wrong when compared to the Northern cloaks - not just in colour but in the silhouette and texture of the fur as well. Dany’s white fur is longer and looks more wispy than the fur that the Starks wear. Furthermore, the fur cloaks of the Starks feature the whole animal (their heraldic wolf) from which the fur comes..

Once again, there’s a superficial resemblance that is actually undercut by small but significant details. It is like she’s trying to affect a type of dress that she’s unfamiliar with and getting it wrong. This is, in essence, Dany trying to cosplay a Northern aesthetic and still managing to look like an outsider.

Interestingly enough, Dany’s new shoulder fur does look similar to a couple of other costumes: Sansa’s white wedding dress in season 5 and one of Cersei’s black costumes in season 7. I’m not quite sure yet of what to make of this marked resemblance - other than Cersei is not a Stark and Sansa’s wedding dress was for an event that was not only horrible for her but it was also designed to make her a Bolton, to strip her of her Stark identity whilst using her claim to usurp the Starks as Lords of Winterfell.

There’s another interesting detail on the EW cover. If you pay attention, you can see that Dany also wears a red silk half-cape, similar to the ones she wore in season 7. 

However, whereas these capes looked natural with her season 7 costumes, it now looks like an odd fit with a heavy fur coat. This is not unsurprising since Dany’s season 7 costumes were inspired by the costumes her brother Viserys wore in season 1, which is a very conscious choice of Clapton:

“The silhouette,” [Clapton] explains, “purposely echoes that of the Targaryen style that her brother wore in Season 1.” (Michele Clapton to Vanity Fair)

“I think it’s quite interesting that we finally see her embracing her brother’s ambition,” Clapton says. “What does that say? You’re seeing the beginning of something. We’re not at the end yet and I think it’s very important at this moment that we start seeing who she is.” (Michele Clapton to Uproxx)

This isn’t really that surprising. She is after all, now trying to achieve her brother’s ambition of re-taking the Iron Throne. However, the combination of a silk half-cape with a winter coat that already has a shoulder fur just looks plain silly and impractical! The silk is flimsy when seen next to the fur, it is impractical and it is overkill. The red silk half-cape is part of Dany’s Targaryen style - especially as it matches what her brother wore.

However, this silk cape clashes with her “Northern” costume - she’s trying to be something she’s not because of her feelings for Jon (since the white fur coat is explicitly tied to her infatuation with him). This clash of different costume elements is rather interesting in the context of the politics of the story since the Northern Lords are vehemently opposed to any Targaryen, they value their hard-won independence and Dany is determined to rule all of Westeros, including the North. Thus, the costume reflect this uneasy alliance - written on Dany’s body. Despite her toning down the overt Targaryen style and attempting something that looks somewhat Northern, the red still bleeds through - she is a Targaryen conqueror who takes what she wants with Fire and Blood - even if she’s dressed like an innocent-looking white lamb.

A lot of people has also noticed how Dany’s new fur coat seems rather ill-fitting in the new teaser. She’s looks more bulky than when she wore the season 6 version of this costume. This doesn’t necessarily mean that Clapton and her team made a mistake. 

“I don’t think any costume should be looked at in isolation, rather, through the arc of the character. Each thing will tell a story. It might look like a costume is wrong, but actually it’s supposed to look like that. It’s telling you something about the character at the time.” (Winter is Coming)

Putting Dany in an ill-fitting costume just as she enters a new political situation, which is complicated by her emotional entanglement with Jon - it actually makes sense story-wise to put her in a costume that doesn’t really fit her subtly conveys that she is ill at ease. 

She’s now in a very unfamiliar situation in that she cannot just threaten people into submission because she’s infatuated with Jon and wants him to like her. She has to play a game of courtesy, which was never her strong suit. Even when she came begging for support in Qarth, she was never polite - instead rather threw a temper tantrum and screamed that she would take what was hers with fire and blood. As her dragons and armies grew, she never had the need to be a diplomat and be polite to the people she negotiated with because she had all the hard power and she wasn’t averse to using it. 

She isn’t her usual confident self, feeling like an outsider, which all the little details in her costume signals as I’ve outlined in this post. This outsider status is even underscored by the visual framing and blocking of the scene.

Dany is literally framed by Jon and Sansa who stand side by side as a united front. She looks small and she almost looks like she’s the one who’s the petitioner as she approaches the ruling pair of the North. It is also a shot that is eerily similar to the opening shot of Jon and Sansa’s parley with Ramsay before the Battle of the Bastards.

It is the same framing and blocking, only now it takes place in a much more confined space. Now the crucial difference is that the Winterfell scene is a scene of welcome but the visual framing imbue the scene with an interesting subtext that comes off as slightly adversarial, which fits well with Sansa’s cool welcome and Dany being visibly uncomfortable.

This is a case of the dialogue saying one thing but the visual language implying another, which is a strategy that the show used a lot in season 7. You have to keep in mind that the visual language (framing, blocking, costumes, non-verbal cues) constitutes half of the story - so a good way to create tension and subtext is to have the dialogue subtly clash with the visual language - and this is certainly the case here, both through the framing of the shot, the blocking of the actors and this is also embedded in Dany’s costume as I’ve laid out in this post.