#from ALL the many and failed P-Rank runs

[evol-astraea]

"Insufferable." *[REDACTED]*

[pinchraccoon]

Pinch Reviews: Pizza Tower

It's been a hot minute since I reviewed a game here, my apologies, other projects have had, and still have, my utmost attention at the moment.

From March 26th to Marth 31st, I played Pizza Tower, an indie platformer heavily focused on level exploration, speed, and tight controls, that's heavily influenced by games like Earthworm Jim, and more apparently, Wario Land.

From the very moment I first saw the game I knew that it would be fun, as was evident in its unique and infectious art style that absolutely reeks of late 90s-early 2000s "crude" cartoons, like Ren and Stimpy or Ed Edd n Eddy. This game's art style hits REALLY hard, and serves to not only provide this game with significant visual intrigue, but the way that characters squash and stretch in such an exaggerated manner contributes significantly to allowing the player to understand enemies movements, as well as those of the main playable character, Peppino Spaghetti.

Speaking of, this game consists of a cast of varied, and memorable characters, many of whom follow a specific theme or reference. For example, the two major main characters Peppino and Gustavo are obvious caricatures of Italian-American pizza chefs, Peppino taking on a fearful demeanor the majority of the game, while Gustavo is combative, cute, or pensive most of the time.

Pizza Tower's character design strength doesn't end there, however, as just about every enemy, boss, or otherwise is EXTREMELY lovable in their own way, assisted by PT's incredibly focused art style, and tongue in cheek delivery of just about everything it does. I would be remiss, however, to not mention my absolute favorite thing about this entire game, bar none. Behold: BRICK

Otherwise known as Stupid Rat, this big guy is my single favorite thing about Pizza Tower. Genuinely. Something about his little hands, his chubby body, and those stupid eyes facing in two different directions makes me absolutely adore these little guys. I smile every single time I see one in a level.

But I digress, Pizza Tower's gameplay is *also* fun beyond fun. Pizza Tower consists of about a dozen and a half levels and 5 boss fights. Each of the levels consist of a goal to collect as many "toppins," which are little pizza topping characters with eyes and legs that need to be freed from cages, to earn money to purchase the boss gate, allowing Peppino to travel further up the titular Pizza Tower. Every level in PT has a unique theme, complete with a unique powerup or gimmick that helps to differentiate the gameplay loop, as well as provide the player with new tools and challenges the entire runtime of the game. I really love this approach to level design, all too many platformers don't feel the need to provide the player with either new challenges or kit options, or, better yet, challenges to use new kit options on, that allow the player to really get creative or technical in the ways that they solve the problem, which, in Pizza Tower's case, is how to route through the level as quickly as possible.

Regarding kit options, Peppino, and Gustavo but slightly less so, have a genuinely intimidating amount of tech to work with built into them intentionally, that the player is encouraged to use to master levels, so as to run through them as quickly as possible. Pizza Tower has a ranking system, ranking from D to P with Pizza Face Medal. Players earn better and better ranks as they complete the levels with increasing points, gained from performing specific actions and defeating enemies while in combos. After reaching the "end" of a level, the player destroys a specific enemy that triggers "Pizza Time," a period where the player has to reach the beginning of the level, with slight variations opening up throughout, in order to escape the level with what they earned. There is only one way to truly "fail" a level in Pizza Tower, and that's to let the Pizza Time timer run out, and for Pizza Face, the invincible enemy spawned by the timer running out, to catch you, ending your run. However, players cannot achieve the highest ranks, P and P w/ Pizza Face Medal, by *just* doing the run back once, no, players have to do it twice, without dropping a combo, and collecting every collectible, in order to P rank a level. Three laps if players want the P rank with Pizza Face. In order to reach this end, players have to become intimately aware with the level in order to construct a route that will work, as well as exactly what inputs to perform when in order to defeat scattered enemies, avoid traps, and collect everything they need, all while travelling BLISTERINGLY fast. Attempting to P Rank any level in Pizza Tower is no joke, but has also been some of the most fun I've had in a platformer this year.

Bosses consist of fights in which Peppino has to use the boss's attack patterns against them in some way, similar to playing Kirby without a copy ability. There are less of these, but despite the lower quantity, each of them are interesting, fun, themed fights that each play extremely different from one another. One floor you'll fight a pepper who's an artist, who fights like a typical platformer boss, the next you'll fight a blob of cheese with a gun, while you also have a gun and can shoot back. It's very silly, and is an excellent capstone to the equally silly floors of this game.

Finally, I want to loop back around to thematics to discuss level themes to tie everything together. I adore most all of the levels in this game. I don't think this game has a level that is downright unenjoyable to be in, from a forest of gnomes, to a FNAF inspired level, to a city filled with Pigs, to a level where you just play golf using the elderly as balls, I rarely feel that Pizza Tower has no ideas. It is crude, stupid, and reveling in it for the entire runtime of the game. This attitude and stylistic consistency allows players to feel eased into continuing their persistence against the myriad challenges, and the effort made to keep the game fresh level to level provides significant replay value, as leaning into thematics allowed Pizza Tower to explore the player's kit even further, incentivizing players to master not just the Peppino, but each individual level.

I would easily recommend Pizza Tower. Might be the best game of the year, honestly. It's wild that it came out fully in January too. I've noticed that this year has been pretty excellent for releases, both indie and, in some cases, corporate. I certainly think that Pizza Tower's landmark quality early this year set the tone for this year, and it's commitment to originality and extreme fun will inspire developers and creatives to do their own thing and make the game they want to play more than anything else.

Also listen to the soundtrack, it bangs!

[fictionfixations]

man im gonna miss the owl house.

its a fucking masterpiece. that ending. Its all wrapped up in a nice and pretty bow and im so happy and im actually crying its precious to me like how gravity falls was, and amphibia (i admit im not the biggest fan of amphibia, with as fear of bugs and also holy shit thats a lot of 'filler' thats technically not filler because they DID have to wait like months to be able to venture outside but eHHH) gravity falls and its entirety was precious and nothing can match watching it for the first time amphibia was pretty and quirky with characters i genuinely cared about and the world building was cool and the owl house is a whole... IT HAD GAY, it had magic, it hAD BOOKS, it had so much stuff that i really liked and im so happy about it. and all of their endings made me cry and im still crying shut up oh my god and i didnt watch the episode like yesterday because i forgot and got distracted (haha sorry) and i want to make something to never forget but i already have the amity necklace, the season 1 poster (because season 2 had sold out by the time i checked sob, huNTeRRR) AghH but its in a pretty bow now and i have nothing to write about it. the perfect show honestly has to be the one that there's nothing that you can add to it because its perfect.

theres nothing that makes me want to add on to it, nothing to build out angsty and sad scenes (i mean it had everything i wanted LMFAO. anything else would have to just be like either a drabble, or like canon divergence and therefore hunter pov. because i am the writer who mainly writes male pov, clap clap) AND IM HAPPY FOR HIM HE HDWUISAHDIUA oh my god i just saw the flapjack grave oh my god it just spawned a new set of tears (I HAVENT FINISHED WATCHING THE CREDITS I HAVE WORDS TO SAY)

OH MY GOD AMITY (THEY ALL LOOK NICE. also can i backtrack and talk about how gus reunited with his father, with the illusions of multiple hims and then his dad was just hugging them all and that made me so happy??) also back track further LUZ WAS ROCKING THAT TITAN STYLE and she still has the litlte marks on her eyes (it was probably makeup though maybe? i dont remember if she had that after she turned back i dont think she did? idk) OH OH OH DARIUS (thats abomination coven guy right. oh my god i forgot what their rank was already LMFAO) NAD AND AMITYS DAD ?????? RAINE YOU LOOK SO PRETTY EM(ira? I FORGOT HER NAME. I JUST REMEMBER ED AND EM NAMES ARE FAILING ME RN) OH MY GOD THEIR DESIGNS next thing you know on youtube: nolstalgic the owl house lofi HOLY SHIT IS THAT GUS?

YEAH THATS HIS PALISMAN- HOLY SHIT ??? OH MY GOD EDA. AND SHES WEARING RAINES EARRING THING *SOB* AND HER ARMS A HOOK. OH MY GOD I LOVE HER /P AND THE LIGHT GLYPH im rewatching this so many times im so happy, this is like a literal timeless show in my eyes (like how you can watch gravity falls over and over AGHHH)

OH DEAR STEVE--- its just so perfect and im repeating myself and AGHHHH also can we talk about how they taught the collector what mortality was? i think thats the right word (i was about to say morality haha) LUZ JUST BRRR but like halfway through i remembered that papa titan (like the one from. i think it mightve been the first of season 3...? like when they go through theres that waving guy who sounds like hes running and panting and yelling 'hey' in the background, and i remembered 'OH IS IT HIM') and just oh my god *exaggerated hand movements*

oH MY GOD (and i know thats not the actual light glyph we had before- i know this because i tried drawing it once)

LOOK AT THE LITTLE HORNS AND THE DIAMOND SHAPE ADNWUIAS HDAIUD YEAHHHHHHH MORE LEARNING

i need to take a moment before i cry again my hands are shaking. im going to miss this show. i really hope i can find out what to write in the future (AHAHA unintentional pun to the episode 'in the future') EDIT: NO ITS FOR THE FUTURE, IM SO DUMB ahhh i want to immortalize it. i have this bad habit of forgetting things easily (on the plus side, YEAHHHH i can finally put my half a semester of spanish classes to use for luz!!)

[liugeaux]

Disco Panic! - Ranking Brendon’s Albums

With Panic! at the Disco “breaking up” this year, I think now’s a fitting time to throw out my official ranking of all P! at the D albums. I've been a fan since A Fever You Can't Sweat Out and at the time I thought, man this is a band I'm going to like for a long time. While I was right in some aspects, I was wrong to think that it would be a “band”. The hostile takeover that Brendon Urie orchestrated after their second album left me feeling uneasy, but as a music fan I was willing to give it a chance.

Prior to putting this together I was unaware that Ryan Ross was the primary songwriter on the first two albums. Given this info, Urie surrounding himself with creatives and maturing as a songwriter makes the successful transition even more impressive. I don't think it started off amazing, but the Brendon Urie Project really paid off in the long run. You'll see what I mean in the list below.

By no means do I think this breakup is permanent. I feel like Urie is content being a dad right now and has enough money to make it super comfortable. Inevitably, Panic will be back just like My Chemical Romance, just like Fall Out Boy, just like Motion City Soundtrack, just like Yellowcard ... they all come back, and until then, here is my ranking.

7. Viva Las Vengeance

Let’s start this off with a dead fish. Viva is not good. I don't know what happened after Pray For The Wicked, but something went wrong. Where the previous two albums were full of bold and big anthems that play to Urie's strengths. Vengeance strikes out every time it steps to the plate. Usually I have something good to say even about albums I don't love, but there is a very little good to say about Viva Las Vengeance. It feels like Urie wanted to write show tunes but lost the nerve at the last minute, then tried to pivot into a heartland rock album and  failed at doing both. If somehow this does end up being the last Panic album, it's sad they went out on such a stinker. Just skip this one, trust me.

6. Vices & Virtues

Luckily this list gets much better, very fast. Vices & Virtues’ only sin is being rote. After the departure of Ryan Ross and John Walker, the direction Brendan  took the band was decidedly backwards. It’s no secret that Pretty. Odd. was a fraction as successful as their debut. Vices & Virtues feels like a conscious choice to attempt to reignite the spark that made the first album shine so bright.  Because of this, nothing on Vices & Virtues feels fresh. The songs are good and many of them even stand out in the greater Panic catalog. Even with the clear effort to sound like Fever, the quirky and unusual nature of the band is watered down, leaving only a costumed theatrical feeling. When this album came out, it felt like Brendon was fine with the band turning into the next Offspring, a band that hasn't changed their sound in 30 years. Taking into consideration that this was basically Urie’s debut album and Butch Walker was at the production reigns, it ends up being an easy album to recommend.

5. Pretty. Odd.

Thematically, Pretty. Odd. and Vices & Virtues could not be farther apart. Where Vices trades in the familiar, Odd very much lives up to its name and is quite the departure from its predecessor. As the boldest album in the catalog, I'm not sure the band realized they needed to write singles to be released to radio. It's full of '60s-esque psychedelic experiments and I've always felt this album was the band doing their very best Sergeant Pepper impression. The production is subdued, the tracks meander and Yuri's booming voice is painfully underused. Ryan Ross even does some singing, and if that doesn't scream Beatles, I don't know what does. Oddly enough, this album is the perfect sophomore effort. Its the logical next step following Fever and only expands on the band’s efforts to explore new ideas, songwriting techniques, and unexpected genre busting sounds. It’s a shame the band fundamentally changed following its release. I would have loved to hear a third album from what was essentially the original Panic. 

4. Too Weird to Live, Too Rare to Die

After the relatively safe Vices & Virtues, and following the departure of Spencer Chamberlain, the last remaining member of the original band, the Brendon Urie Project is now in full swing. I feel like the criticisms Urie received from Vices directly led to Too Weird to Live, Too Rare to Die being more experimental in a lot of areas. Gone are most of the theatrics and feux-Victorian set dressing, and enter a more synthesized pop and consequently more modern album. It's dancey, and catchy and Urie finally accepts the fact that he's an amazing singer. This and the next two albums are full of big home run swings that display Urie’s intention to remain relevant. There’s an open effort to not be pigeon-holed as that sad boi who can’t grow out of his high-school drama-kid phase. Now that he was flying alone Brandon had to prove he was worth the time. Tracks like Vegas Lights, This is Gospel and Girls/Girls/Boys, set the tone for what the next 5 years of Panic at the Disco would sound like. It retained the experimental nature of the first two albums while allowing those experiments to include elements of popular music more-so than any release before it. Brendon Urie grew up, and instead of making music for his weird drama club homies, he's finally making music for the masses. It's not a perfect album, but it's the equivalent of Babe Ruth calling his shot. 5 years after the seeds were planted in Weird, that energy blooms into Panic’s biggest hit, High Hopes.

3. Pray For the Wicked

Speaking of High Hopes, Pray For the Wicked is the most confident album in Panic’s entire catalog. The production is tight, the hooks are violently catchy and Urie’s voice has never sounded better. If we're going to make a car analogy, this album is firing on all cylinders. Wicked feels like the exclamation point on a return to dominance. The break-up of the original line-up creatively set Urie back several years and it wasn’t until High Hopes hit radio, that Panic was what fans always wanted them to be, the biggest rock band in the world. It isn’t as brash as Death of a Bachelor, but it shares the sleek pop sensibilities of its predecessor.  Wicked’s only crime is not being as good as #’s 1 and 2 on this list. Silver Lining, Say Amen, and Hey Look Ma are as good of a 1-2-3 punch as any band would hope to have just once in their career, but for Panic, these five-star songs aren’t even their biggest hits.  

2. A Fever You Can’t Sweat Out

Fever sits as a unique jewel of an era of music that saw the excesses of its time and chose to bask is the emotions that came with it. Fall Out Boy, My Chemical Romance, Taking Back Sunday, and the other poster-children of mid-2000’s “Emo” rock, shared a similar world view and lyrical tone. Where those songwriters felt like they needed music as therapy, Panic sounded like a group of theater dudes who just needed an outlet. They were more talented than they were confident and that led to them slotting easily into the “Emo” world. Acoustic riffs, electric crunch, upbeat, youth-fueled songs, and a healthy experimental kitchen-sink mentality. The journey of Fever feels like the boys in the band were let loose in the Fueled By Ramen instrument closet and after 10 minutes, in what can only be described as A.D.H.D.-voice, you hear from the back “Dude I found an accordion!” That spritely excitement is the energy the whole album carries, and its infectious. Sadly, due to the direction taken for their second album and the subsequent departure of Ryan Ross, Fever never got a “proper” follow-up. This leaves it as the biggest outlier of the genre during that era. Track by track, by the time you get to the big hit, I Write Sins, Not Tragedies, you’ve already been showered with so many Emo riches, that Sins seems like a formality. 

1. Death of a Bachelor

With the departure of Ross and ascension of Urie as the sole creative voice, the transition wasn’t super smooth (see Vices and Too Weird). Death of a Bachelor was the first Urie fronted album with a voice. Urie finally had something to say. He finally understood the theatrics he’d been wearing as a costume for years and grew into what he was supposed to be. Lyrically, Death of a Bachelor lives up to its name. It serves as a bookend to Urie’s youth and celebrates the excess of adolescent freedoms and passions. It’s nostalgia in real time, a bachelor party as a new beginning and a critical look in the mirror as Urie washes off the puke stains from his big-boy pants. Too Weird, set Urie on the journey through “anything goes” production and Bachelor shows significant growth in that direction. The previous 2 albums were produced by Butch Walker and while that is always a formula for quality, Walker can be a bit hand-holdy in his direction. Bachelor eschews that by having Urie take the production reigns. Listening to the result, leaves it evident that he was ready. The song Death of a Bachelor might perfectly encapsulate Urie’s era of the band. Dynamic production, huge vocals, personal reflection, raw ambition and a learn-by-doing attitude, its wonderful. 

Hopefully, time will be kind to Panic. Had Urie not stepped up and worked his ass off, they might have drifted into 00’s emo obscurity. Inevitably, when they announce a return with either new music or a tour or both, the music in this list will be gilded as a precious expression of a very specific time in pop music and more specifically Urie’s talent.  

Cheers

[frontproofmedia]

What in the World is Going On with the Seminoles?

By:Joseph Correa

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What in the World is Going On with the Seminoles?

College football is an unpredictable sport; few storylines have been as perplexing and jaw-dropping as the sudden fall from grace of the Florida State Seminoles. Two games into the 2024 season, fans, analysts, and even casual observers are left utterly baffled, wondering: What in the world is going on with the Seminoles?

Just weeks ago, Florida State was riding high, ranked No. 10 in the nation, and poised for a run at the expanded College Football Playoff. Now, after a shocking 28-13 loss to Boston College on Monday night – their second consecutive defeat – the Seminoles find themselves in a 0-2 hole, their playoff dreams evaporating faster than morning dew in the Tallahassee heat.

Yes, the season opener against Georgia Tech in Ireland was disappointing. Still, it was a loss from which many believed Florida State could recover. After all, strange things can happen in overseas games. But Monday night's debacle against Boston College at Doak Campbell Stadium? That was a different beast entirely – a home-field meltdown that has sent shockwaves through the college football world.

"Sick to how this season started," head coach Mike Norvell admitted in the post-game press conference, his voice tinged with a mix of frustration and disbelief. "I failed in preparing the team to be able to go out and respond tonight."

It's a stark admission from a coach who, mere weeks ago, was being hailed as the architect of Florida State's resurgence. Now, he's left to pick up the pieces of a shattered game plan and potentially a shattered season.

The numbers tell a tale so grim it's almost hard to believe. Florida State's vaunted offense, expected to be among the nation's best, was held to a paltry 21 rushing yards for the entire game. Even more shocking, the Seminoles' running backs combined for a mere 26 yards on the ground. Quarterback D.J. Uiagalelei, brought in as a high-profile transfer to elevate the passing game, completed just 21 of 42 passes. While his 272 passing yards and a late touchdown to Kentron Poitier provided a glimmer of hope, it was ultimately too little, too late.

But the offensive woes are just the tip of the iceberg. Multiple NFL scouts had claimed that the Seminoles could boast the nation's best defensive line. Yet, against Boston College, this supposedly elite unit was gashed for over 200 rushing yards. Eagles quarterback Thomas Castellanos orchestrated a balanced attack, throwing for 106 yards and two touchdowns while adding 73 yards on the ground. Running back Treshaun Ward, a thorn in the Seminoles' side all night, racked up 61 receiving yards and 77 rushing yards.

Perhaps the most telling moment came in the third quarter. With Boston College already up 14-6, Castellanos connected with Kye Robichaux for a touchdown that pushed the lead to 21-6. It was a gut punch from which Florida State never fully recovered despite a valiant fourth-quarter effort.

As the final seconds ticked away and Boston College celebrated an improbable victory, the questions began to mount. How could a team with so much promise fall so far, so fast? Is this a case of early-season jitters, or are there deeper, systemic issues in Tallahassee?

The harsh reality is that Florida State's title hopes are effectively over. Once considered contenders, the Seminoles now risk joining the ignominious list of the most overrated preseason programs in college football history. Their path to the College Football Playoff, which seemed manageable with only one preseason top-10 opponent on the schedule, has crumbled beneath their feet. Losses to Georgia Tech and Boston College have not only jeopardized their ACC title aspirations but have essentially eliminated them from CFP contention in what can only be described as one of the most confounding starts in recent memory.

For Boston College head coach Bill O'Brien, the win was a statement of resilience. "I'm very proud of these guys," he said. "To come down here against a team that really in their minds had to have this win, that's a heck of a statement for BC."

Indeed, it was a statement – not just for Boston College, but about the state of Florida State football. As the Seminoles head back to the drawing board, they face tactical challenges and existential questions about the program's identity and resolve.

The road ahead is long, and fortunes can change quickly in college football. But for now, the Florida State faithful are left to wonder: Is this simply a stumble out of the gates or the beginning of a long, painful fall? Can a team that was dominated in nearly every facet of the game – from the trenches to the skill positions – find a way to salvage their season?

One thing is certain – in Tallahassee, the reset button has never looked so tempting. As the Seminoles grapple with their new reality, the college football world watches with bated breath. They wait to see if this storied program can somehow right the ship or if they're destined to become a cautionary tale of preseason hype and regular-season disappointment.

Featured Photo: • Melina Myers, USA TODAY Sports

[ruiniel]

Remember

Fandom: Demon Slayer: Kimetsu no yaiba

Pairing: Kokushibō x fem!Reader

Count: 1.3k

Rating: 🔞

Tags & Warnings: Multichapter, Darkfic, Angst, Ambiguity, Past Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Reincarnation, Toxic relationship, Codependency, Blood kink, Flashbacks, Kokushibō's wife, her name is Hisami, References to childbirth but nothing graphic, POV Second Person, Tsugikuni Michikatsu POV, Emotional Sex, Mild Smut, is it gratuitous yes and no, Human!Kokushibō, Kokushibō | Tsugikuni Michikatsu-centric, Sengoku Period (1467-1590), if there's anything Upper Moon One fears it's his memories

On AO3

Part I - Part III - Part IV - Part V - Part VI - Part VII - Part VIII - Part IX

II.

The world used to be bloodier. As he ponders this, another thought emerges: it also used to be more beautiful. But… he’s ceased caring about such things, long ago.

This is a refuge as any other since he’s roamed this world: this too-bright place with its garish nighttime illuminations. Now it bears a different name, but much has changed in four centuries, after all.

And yet… as he kneels on the roof, the moat around what was once Fukashi Castle is still here, the surrounding verdant scenery and mountains are yet present. The still waters mouthing at the structure are a black void, offering an upside-down image of the building with its crow-like wings and the bright red bridge leading up to it—the image of an alternate dimension.

He tries to ease into the world beyond, and fails. His thoughts ripple and churn in an endless mill.

Why now?

Of all the times and all moments past, why did it have to be now that he remembered? A half-forgotten memory made flesh, one that forced a shameful retreat with nothing but words and questions and an achingly familiar face.

A shift. Upper Rank One opens his eyes.

“Why are you here?”

The newcomer nonchalantly sits on the roof close to him, crossing his legs. “Greetings, Kokushibo-dono, I hope you’re having a peaceful night?”

Kokushibo says nothing. He’s not once humored any of the others that man has brought into the fold, nor does he intend to begin. Things are fine as they stand.

“I’ll take that as a ‘yes’!” Doma chimes, his long, pointed nails twirling a lock of silver hair. “I must say, you certainly know how to choose your dwelling places, Kokushibo-dono, the scenery is marvelous!” the upbeat tone continues.

“Doma.”

Upper Rank Two looks his way with his bright, rainbow eyes, snapping his fingers. “Oh yes, to the point, right. Well, I wanted to report a strange, or, no!—a rather intriguing event! Quite recent.”

Kokushibo rises to his feet. He gazes up at the sky, gripping the handle of his sheathed blade.

“A very interesting person stumbled into my temple, you see,” Doma continues, speaking with that everlasting smile plastered on his face, a bit faster now for fear of losing his audience. “With a very interesting story besides! A pretty young lady, if I may say so. She’d heard of me and how so many people trust me with their woes and troubles, she said, which was rather sweet of her. She did tell me right off that she most certainly did not believe in ‘this sort of thing’, not until recently at least, but she had the most peculiar story and did not know where to go!”

“Why should this interest me?”

“Because—and here lies the most curious part—she thought she was being haunted! Either that, or she was going insane. And as you know, I do not believe ghosts exist.”

Because you are empty of feeling or memory.

“... but she was so distraught, and I’d fed recently, thus I decided to oblige her instead of eating her.”

A curious tremor runs up his spine. “I have no time for this.”

“Wait, wait! Now comes the intrigue: it did not take much to compel her to speak in the greatest of detail, after all human minds are so feeble. She described this… ‘ghost’ to me. She said…” He ponders, as though trying to remember. “She said it was a man, who looked like a samurai from ages past. He had long, dark hair, and not one but three pairs of burning eyes! She said he disappeared, and might not return, but did not know what to do in case he did. Isn’t that interesting, Kokushibo-dono? Where ever would a mortal get such a notion?”

“Say what you mean.”

“Far from me to meddle in my upper's business and I don't know if it’s someone who escaped, or why. But... I do know we are not to reveal ourselves to mortals and… well, I believe she will return to the temple, I made an exquisite impression, and promised to do some research.” Doma’s shining gaze melts to a dark, bloody crimson. “Would you like me to... handle this situation for you, Kokushibo-dono?”

His teeth are grinding. He’s never been so inept as to not gauge an enemy’s ways, and beneath those fake airs Upper Rank Two hides a ruthlessness and ambition that might have been admirable, were it not so honorless. “What I would like, Doma... is for you to get out of my sight.”

Doma appears stricken for a breath, but the smile returns like a beacon, and his eyes regain their multicolored luster. “Apologies if I’ve offended you, I only thought you’d like to be made aware of—”

“... leave.”

The demon claps his hands together and stands with an elegant flourish. “As you wish. Until next time.”

After Doma makes himself scarce, he kneels again. His gaze sweeps over the inky moat, the silent mountains in the far distance. He closes his eyes.

There is no thought to waste on this. None of it matters, none of it should. If anyone is foolish enough to step into Doma's territory... then that is their fate.

None of it matters.

He'd not expected it to be this way. The union of clans through marriage and strengthening of social ties he always saw as an upcoming duty to fulfill, but in him brims a new kind of contentment when you lean against his shoulder, the simple intimacy of your body warmth at his side: the comfort of having someone to hold.

The marriage ceremony has concluded days before, and he feels… relief. The sake you shared was on your lips that night, and his cheeks flush as he recalls what followed.

“I like the musicality of it.”

Michikatsu looks at you, an eyebrow raised, running slender fingers over the flute in his hand. He nuzzles your neck, smiling. “More than the koto?”

You twirl a dark lock of his hair between your fingers. “Is that strange to you?”

You’ve known each other since childhood. You’d always been a part of his life, and with fondness he remembers the many escapades through the hills, the passion in your eyes as you raced after him to the despair of your minders, your bruised knees when you fell after a dare.

“I thought you knew by now, that nothing about you is strange to me, Hisami.”

You hum, shifting your weight so he has no choice but to lie down on the futon, his arms around your waist. This closeness feels complete, irreplaceable. He knows this, perhaps he always did.

“So, will you?” you murmur, a teasing finger tracing his lips. “Will you teach me how to play?”

His body tenses at the slight touch, sweet fever melting his senses. Michikatsu buries his face against your neck, breathing in your scent. “Will you have the patience for it?” He knows you, he knows every expression on your face and what it means, the exact places your skin is marked by barely discernible scars from your covert adventures years past.

Your voice bears the slightest reproach, your fingers sifting through his hair, along his scalp, and shudder after shudder races through his nerves. “Do you think so little of me, my husband?”

Your words, though soft, cut him like a blade. It is the first time you refer to him as such, and the sudden, renewed urge to honor and protect and have you overwhelms him. It feels like waking from a shallow dream, the pale imitation of a former existence. The emptiness, the stubborn feeling of inadequacy gripping his mind like pinchers, the restlessness of not knowing a clear path or choosing a purpose are all forgotten, drowned in the murmur of your voice and the urgent beats of your heart against his chest. He tastes the word on your lips, relishing the soft gasps it yields.

“Well?” you ask, eyes closing as he grazes your lower lip with his teeth.

“How about… you let me show you what I think…” he says, a trembling hand grasping your hip.

The sheen of your smile agrees, and he will not—cannot—begrudge you this defeat.

Author note

The name 'Hisami' depending on how it's written can mean 久藤珠 - 'long lasting wisteria gem' or 久藤美 - 'long lasting wisteria beauty'.

Fukashi Castle was the original name of Matsumoto Castle, whose origins go back to the Sengoku period when the Tsugikuni brothers would have lived.

Part III

[walkonandtwo]

The most hated citizens in America, Referred to as Other.

For many years these Indians were tramps, vagrants, objects of charity, panhandlers, and casual laborers around Great Falls, Havre, Big Sandy, Box Elder, and other Montana towns,” the author observed. “The white people of Montana looked upon Rocky Boy’s people with contempt and called them scavengers and alley cats, because many of them gleaned their food from garbage cans.” [Foster p214]

Foster continued, “Unwelcomed outside the towns where they sought food, the Chippewa and Cree bands suffered both hunger and harassment by local officials. . . Eventually conditions became so bad that the destitute bands won the support of a few sympathetic and influential citizens of Helena and Great Falls. . . As their circumstances worsened, the landless bands intensified efforts to secure support for a reservation. Rocky Boy, less burdened than Little Bear by the Stigma of being Canadian Cree, was more successful . . . efforts to secure a reservation for the Rocky Boy began in earnest. Initial attempts to locate the band on the Blackfoot or Belknap reservations failed when reservation officials, like those on the Flathead Reservation, opposed situating the band within boundaries or on allotments nearby. A variety of problems and misunderstandings subverted every effort to secure land, including the hostility of some of Montana’s native people toward the Metis members of the band. Fort Peck reservation briefly became a possibility for settlement of the band until the agent there assured government officials that the resident Indians (traditional enemies of the Metis) would never tolerate “French mixed bloods” on or near their land. The comment of Fort Peck’s reservation agent reflects the double bind under which the Rocky Boy Chippewa labored. When the argument suited opponents, they might be accused of being Canadian Crees and therefore the responsibility of Canada. On the other hand, since many members of the band were Metis, they might be accused of being “French breeds” and not Indian at all. [Foster pp215-6]

The Hostility of the Montana tribes definitely did not facilitate finding a home for these people.

In the face of heated opposition from nearby the population and press of nearby Havre, Rocky Boy was ultimately successful in securing a reservation for his band and that of Little Bears in 1916. The Army had closed down its Fort Assiniboin near the Bear Paw mountaisn just south of Milk River, near where it had run down Chief Joseph’s Nez Perce band in 1877. Rocky Boy’s petition for the surplus land was able to gain the support of crucial Great Falls and Helena business people. Some Metis names from among the many mixed-descent relatives of the two bands that were submitted to Washington included the Allery, Belcourt, Bushie, Courchane, Capalete, Dechamp, Demontyne, Favel, Hamline, Houle, Henderson, Jackson, Ladue, Larance, Morissette, Sangray, Valley, and the Walls families. Officials would actually only submit 658 names to Washington, and 206 of those were denied enrollment. The final roll of July 16, 1917 included just 451 individuals. Though some of those dropped from the rolls . . ”eventually won enrollment, many more joined the Little Shell band members in the growing ranks of Montana’s “landless Indians.”

[Foster p 217-18]

In 1907 as part of a broader effort to severely limit non-European immigration into the U.S., and ultimately citizenship, the Bureau of Immigration and Naturalization made a number rulings involving the Metis. The Bureau confirmed the ineligibility of “half-breed Canadian Indians” for U.S. citizenship.

Strengthening this ruling was a 1909 district court case that found that persons who were half white to be half-breeds and, as such, belonged to neither of the parent “races.” . . . “French breeds” remained in danger of deportation. Again, the publicity left the impression that all Metis were illegal Canadian half-breeds with no rights to U.S. residency or citizenship. . . . No longer in public documents or publications were Rocky Boy Metis referred to as “French breeds.” And since, in Montana French breeds were associated with Canada (and possible deprotation), the Chippewa-Crees were unlikely to identify themselves as Metis, Michif, or Mitsif as did many Turtle Mountain enrollees. For mixed-descent people in Montana, even more than those of North Dakota, a mixed-blood designation risked not only loosing rights as Indians but also as U.S. residents. [Foster p219]

As for actual deportations, they did happen. One junior officer that got in on the action while on assignment with the 10th Cavalry was First Lieutenant J.J. Pershing. In 1896 he arrested a group of Crees encamped near Great Falls. For two months Pershing and his African American Troop D covered a thousand miles of Montana territory “rounding up” Crees who were subsequently deported. [Foster p176] . Good training for taking on Poncho Villa on the southern border in 1915, and then Hindenberg and Ludendorf on the Western Front in 1918.

The battle of Poplar River, Montana, fought between the U.S. Army and Gall's Sioux on January 2, 1881 was witnessed by the Courchene family, who were camped nearby.

He is listed with his family at the South Fork of the Sun River, Lewis and Clark County, and also a John Courchene, age 20 born in Canada is listed in 1880 at Judith Basin, Meagher County, Montana. He was either enumerated twice or the were two John Courchene's in Montana at that time.

[spockandawe]

I was thinking about this post, as I frequently do, and got distracted thinking about the differences between Jiang Cheng and Jin Guangyao’s approaches to parenting Jin Ling. Because I do think they both do love him very deeply, even if one of them dropped the ball very badly in the end, and the more I turned it over in my head, the more it feels like they’re trying to work through their own damage and correct for the mistakes of the previous generation (something that I do think is a deliberate running theme in the story, especially when it comes to parental relationships)

Jin Guangyao had a mother who loved him, right from the start. Even before he realized that Jin Guangshan was never going to be a good father, he never had any reason to doubt the way his mother loved him. What he did struggle with was more... security, in a practical/financial sense. His mother supported them, but the first time he got knocked down a flight of stairs, it was because a john tried to ditch her without paying, which suggests that the loss of a paying customer was a big deal for them. I don’t think she failed him, and I think she genuinely did as well by him as she could, but I also don’t think his childhood was very secure. And after her death, when Jin Guangshan turns him away from Jinlintai, he’s at loose ends, and suffers from his father’s deliberate neglect. He has to take a low-ranking position with the Nie forces, because he doesn’t have many options, and he suffers from that insecurity in other ways too, like having weak cultivation because he wasn’t given an opportunity to learn early enough.

Jiang Cheng, on the other hand, was raised wealthy from the start, and never lacked for money. But his mother was relentlessly critical of him and his siblings, his father blatantly favored his adopted brother (and Wei Wuxian’s entrance into the house was linked with his father ordering him to give up his dogs, who were basically his only friends, for Wei Wuxian’s sake), and there are persistent rumors, which his parents do not do a good job of debunking, that his father would have totally preferring hooking up with Cangse Sanren instead of the mother he actually has. Right in front of him, his mom chews out his dad for not loving his kids enough, just because she gave birth to them.

So Jiang Cheng is bitter, angry, and threatening, but he also makes sure that Jin Ling knows his love is unconditional, no matter what. He gets upset at Jin Ling for not coming to him for help when he needs help, even when he’s also upset at Jin Ling for being stupid and reckless. He’s also apparently made good on these sentiments in very material ways, because when Wei Wuxian asks Jin Ling about all the threats of grievous bodily harm, Jin Ling is like ‘pfffffft, as if he would ever HIT me’. Jin Guangyao is manipulative and controlling, and by the end of the novel, he’s compartmentalized his emotions enough that he’s willing and able to threaten and hurt Jin Ling, if that’s what it takes. But Jin Ling is supported in every material way that Jin Guangyao never had, in ways that don’t require Jin Guangyao to expose his emotions as openly as Jiang Cheng does. When seven-year-old Jin Ling gets into a fight with the other children and trashes his room, Jin Guangyao doesn’t tell him to come to him for help, and he doesn’t demand to know who upset him, he comes to Jin Ling with a spiritual puppy instead, and gives her to Jin Ling as a gift.

Neither of them does a perfect job of parenting, and given their backgrounds and baggage, I also wouldn’t really expect them to do a perfect job. And by their natures, it’s a lot easier to break down Jiang Cheng’s internal processes than Jin Guangyao’s :P But the more I think about this, the more I’m convinced not only that they both spent thirteen/sixteen years doing the best job they could. And not only that, I’m also more and more convinced that they were both working as hard as they could to not fail Jin Ling in the way they felt their parents failed them.

[rint4ros]

can i please request bnha reverse comfort headcanons where the boys are feeling not good enough for the reader and begin to cry and the reader comforts them? preferably with kirishima (my comfort character), kaminari, shinsou, and bakugou! <3 don’t worry abt it if ur uncomfy with writing it tho ofc!

comfort (kirishima, kaminari, shinsou, bakugo x reader)

genre: angst (?), fluff overall

about: your boyfriend is the one who needs some reassurance this time.

a/n: oo a new mha rq <3 tysm for the request!! i’m sorry this is more of a “explaining how they feel” type of thing..... it feels good to put a new writing out after so long, haha

kirishima eijirou

- kiri just wants to be enough for you, he always has those days where he doesn’t feel like he is. your heart breaks when you find out he feels this way :((

- he doesn’t want you to see him cry, that’s just showing his vulnerability to you, and he hates it. but you always reassure him, it’s okay!

- you let him cry in your chest, hugging his head close to you, telling him it’s okay, he’s always enough, and maybe even more than enough.

- “eiji, don’t cry, you’re the best boyfriend anyone could ever ask for... please don’t cry.”

- you’re literally heartbroken when you start to see tears slipping out of his eyes ☹️

- his voice wobbling when he says “b-but i- i feel like i never p-put enough effort, and- and” you give him a little peck on the lips to make him shush.

- you n him talk it out, and he explains how he has gotten a lot more commissions and that means less time to spend with you, and is just insecure about how he just isn’t enough. of course, you keep reassuring him that’s it’s okay, you don’t care how long he’s going to be away, and you will always wait for him.

denki kaminari

- babie is also a victim of insecurities. denki feels that he is too dumb, too ugly, and just too unworthy of your love and affection.

- when he short wires, he always needs your care, and he just feels like he’s too much of a hassle. kami also is insecure that he’s too low on the hero rankings, and is afraid he can’t protect you like he promises.

- of course, all these thoughts and insecurities are untrue! you tell him he’s one of the best boyfriends ever </3 he’s obviously worthy of your love.

- “baby, i trust that you will always protect me no matter what, no matter what rank you are. you’re still a pro-hero, and you will always be my hero. okay? don’t cry, oh please don’t cry denki..”

- seeing your boyfriend cry is one of the worst things ever. you can hear his sniffles, and his tears stain your shirt. it breaks your heart ;((

- you play with his hair, and you can feel his body calm down and fall further into your chest. he’s asleep! you’re glad hes calmed down.

- “i love you, don’t ever feel that way about yourself. you’re perfect the way you are.”

shinsou hitoshi

- hitoshi has always been insecure since his high school years, and when he’s a hero, it’s not different. even more after he got with you, the most perfect human being he has ever met in his eyes.

- ‘toshi thinks he will never be good enough for someone like you, someone who is so loving, so kind, so sweet.

- “i’m never enough” “they’re too good for me” “i’m the worst.” these are the thoughts he tells you while crying into your chest.

- “toshi, baby. you’re always going to be enough for me. i only love you, and no one else. i don’t even see what you see in me!”

- your cat crawls into your lap too, nuzzling against the both of you, calming down shinsou a bit. “see, even mochi is reassuring you, ‘toshi!”

- he definitely feels better after letting all his emotions go, and your comfort always makes him feel good.

bakugou katsuki

- we all know katsuki has many of his own insecurities, and never tells them to anyone for his own image. when he’s around you, he wants to be a strong figure, someone who can protect you from everything and everyone.

- after losing to izuku many times in the past, and even now, he starts to feel as if he isn’t strong enough to even protect you from harm. of course, these things aren’t even true.

- “i know i shouldn’t care about what rank or whatever deku is, but i can’t help but... but think i’m not strong enough..”

- it was really a rare sight to see your boyfriend in such state. the last time you saw him cry, was when he failed to save a civilian.

-“katsu, it’s okay to feel weak at times, but you will always be strong no matter what, and i trust you will always come to save me, no matter the situation. so please, don’t cry, i hate to see you cry..”

- your hands running through his hair, massaging his scalp to make him calm down. he hated being vulnerable like this around you, but he can’t help it, and it feels comforting when you hold him like this.

- he promises he will always protect you.

[newgeht]

Hey, Gwen!! For the dialogue prompts, can I request Remura + "You said no, right? Please tell me you said no." Thank you! ^^

Thanks so much Sky! Just for preface, this takes place at the beginning of the Aoi War arc in Sandra.

Ao3 -----------------------------------------------------------------------------

It was odd. Odd that this battle upon the sands was never consumed by the taut heat of the land, its thirst for sustenance ripening the war that continued. Homura raged on the field, scuttling through the unquenched crowds of Nero’s army. Her mere flesh would not stop her from cutting her foes down, but the three suns beat her with every slash of her sword. Tis was her dragged weakness! 

“All focus on the dark haired one!” For Mother’s sake, she had spoken her inner musings once again. Many more of these lowly soldiers had surrounded her. “Overheat her!” 

Homura was at a standstill. If she could find one of her fellow crew members, they could help her through the simmering heat. She drew her sword close by her side, the blade’s heat radiating against her cheek. From which she drew upon the energy, she let out a fearsome cry, “Single-Sword Attack: Snake Bite!”

Lunging forth she effortlessly blew an opening through the ranks. Running as fast as her tired legs could take her, dodging the flying bullets. A bowl of dust swirling about as she made her escape. Soft rays of light bounding about Eden’s enemies coming to a singular image. There were so many Rebecca’s, could this have been a mirage. Homura had been the only one sent to this sector. 

“Seems like you have this handled, I’m heading back to the city sector.” Rebecca’s laugh rang out as the soldiers piled up around them. 

Homura shook her head, the sweat soaking into her garments. She could barely see with the salt in her eyes. 

“No? You said no, right? P-Please tell me you said no.” Her teammate chided with humor, before settling with disbelief. Rebecca huffed and shot a suspect guard trying to creep closer. Fury raveled out of her sharp tone, “I’m trying to have a conversation here, have a little respect!” 

Homura struggled with her hubris, much like an exhaust failing to pump she stumbled forward. “Help me.” 

Rebecca stabilized her with the grace of her divine hands. A pang of guilt throbbing through her, she was supposed to be the sword. Homura had failed. 

“Don’t worry, you’ve done enough Homura. I’ll take you back to the rebels.” She threaded her limbs around her slim frame, effortlessly popping Homura onto her back. Never had she realized Rebecca’s physical strength. “After this is all over, we can take a bath at home.” 

Rebecca zipped through the surrounding city blocks. The hot breeze unwelcomed upon her face, but at least she was here. Homura let the rest of her exhaustion go, accepting the bliss of being saved for once. 

[themrsackerman]

A Little Fall of Rain

Pairing: Levi Ackerman x Reader

Warning: Angst, violence, blood, death

You love him. It was all you needed to know.

It didn’t matter that he doesn’t feel the same way or that he ignores your gestures to show him how much you care. You were just grateful that he doesn’t bluntly shuts you down. Levi always thought it was just a silly childish infatuation, that you would soon grow out of it like most of his cadets ever did. You thought so too at first. But the more time you spend around him, the more reasons you find to fall inevitably deeper in love with the man.

Outside the stoic demeanor of the man hailed the Humanity’s Strongest soldier, he was actually a caring person. He has his own way of showing it. Its not entirely obvious most of the time, but if you look closely, if you get past the brash scolding and intimidating gazes, you will see how much he actually does care. Specially those under his squad.

You worked your ass off to improve in order to get in his squad. Driven by your admiration for the corporal and with Hange and Mike’s help, you were quick to master the combat and titan slaying. You gained rank over time and was soon able to fight along side Levi.

The captain himself would be lying if he say you did not impress him, because you do. You started out from this weak, clumsy recruit to someone Erwin handpicked to watch Levi’s back in most missions.By now, you had been with him to countless missions and one of the handful he trusts with his life.

You swallow hard and took one last look around you before the walls’ gate finally opens. Memorizing the faces of your companions and giving stiff nods of encouragement to those who meet your gaze. Expeditions always had your stomach turning no matter how many times you have gone out. Each time, fewer familiar face return; each time you lose someone you have come to know and love. 

You idly wonder when will this nightmare end, if this will ever end. You thought of the journey ahead and wonder if you’ll be able to come back to this confinement you call home. Commander Erwin stressed how important and dangerous this mission will be and you feel that in your bones now seeing the usual stoic face of your corporal so intense. Levi meets your gaze and he jerks his head to the side, signaling you to take you place beside him in the formation as the gates open fully. The grip you had on the lead rope tightens, turning your knuckles white as you urge your horse to move forward.

You have one mission. This is what you’ve trained for and this is the only way you can express your unconditional love for him. Protect him, at all cost.

It all went downhill so fast..

All around you, your comrades fell. Your ears were ringing, muffling the sounds of battle cries, anguished screaming and the world crumbling around you. Hot thick blood runs past your eye from a cut on your forehead which you wiped haphazardly as you push yourself off of the ground. You pushed a big breath into your lungs in effort to calm your racing heart, looking around wildly trying to locate the only person you could fathom to think of right now. 

“Captain Levi.” you mutter breathlessly, your stumbling turning into sprints to run after the man slaying titans left and right. The beast had titans swarm Levi and adrenaline rushes through you.You winced in pain, feeling parts of you that is surely either bruised or wounded. But you continue forward, grabbing a horse and racing forward to take your place behind your corporal.

“Watch out!!” you yell out of sheer panic, your own body moving to its own accord as you aim your odm gear on the nearest titan, abandoning your horse in order to get to Levi as fast as you could. Amidst the horde of titans commanded by the Beast titan, you lurch forward to slice of the grasping hand of titan threatening to capture the captain.

Levi couldn’t help but turn to look at the shrill of your voice, alerting him of the imminent danger he wasn’t able to foresee. It all happened so fast. One minute you were yards away from him, the next you were saving him from being grabbed and crushed by the titan chasing after him. Levi scowls, he’s being too careless, too blinded by his rage.

“Go Captain!" you assure him and gestured for him to keep going. Levi gave you a quick grateful nod and surges forward. You tried your best to keep up with him, eyes darting all around to make sure Levi makes it to the Beast titan and finally take down the bastard. You see and hear your comrades fall all around you, tears of rage and sorrow fills your eyes as you continue to forward.

Got to focus.

Got to watch his back.

Keep him safe no matter what.

Protect him at all cost.

At all cost.

Trailing him and taking down each titan he missed, you realize his gear is running out of gas. “Captain!” you yell, trying to get his attention. “Stop! You’re running out of gas!” You grunt as you try to keep up with him so that you’ll be able to catch him once he does run empty. Levi was too engrossed by rage, chasing after the beast that wiped out his fellow soldiers. “I promised him!” Levi screams, jaw clenching tight as he continues forward.

You see the last of the steam come out of his gear as Levi killed the last titan and your eyes widened. He’ll fall into the titan’s hands in front of him if you don’t do anything. So you put everything you have and thankfully reached Levi in just a nick of time. You wrap your arms around his torso and shielded him with your body as you both fall to the ground having no titan or trees around for your odm gear to latch on.

“NO!” Levi yells as he rolls to the ground after you caught him, glaring at the titan carrying the beast titan further away. The ground shakes underneath him as his fist slams down out of frustration. Levi’s eyes widened as he hears you coughing, realizing your presence. 

“Y/n?” he mutters, turning around only to find you lying on the ground.

“No, Y/n.” Levi shakes his head, rushing to your side. “It’s okay.” you say weakly, making an effort to smile up at him. Levi’s blood ran cold. This smile was different. It was unlike the warm ones you usually gave him. Your lips tremble as your breathing becomes shallow. And then you felt it. Warmth, spreading right below your ribcage.  

Blood trickles down from right below your left rib, soaking your uniform. Both you and Levi looked at your wound and saw the huge gash start to drench the lower half of your body with your own blood. You frowned as you placed a hand over the gash, feeling disappointed and ashamed. “I’m sorry, Captain.” you say, voice dropping to a whisper as you feel your strength slip.

“Shit.” Levi mutters breathlessly as he lifts your body from the ground. “Cadet, look at me.” he commands, holding you against his body as he inspects your wound closely.

Is this how I go out? Am I dying? You thought as you look up the blue sky above you. You grin, comforting yourself, I kept him safe, at least. And I get to die in his arms.

“Y/n!” Levi calls, giving your cheek gentle shakes until your eyes met his. Your eyes and mind were drifting off. All you know at the moment is that Levi is holding you in his arms and his beautiful face just inches away from yours. A bittersweet smile stretches your lips. You’ve always wanted this. And even if you only get to have it with the last few remaining breaths you have, you wouldn’t trade it for anything in the world.

You winced when you feel him press his hand against the wound, trying desperately to stop the bleeding. “Fuck, hold on.” he mutters, ripping his cloak off of his shoulders and pressing it over your wound. Levi then curses to himself as he checks your gear and realized you no longer have gas too.  He looks around wildly, where are his comrades? Have they all fallen too?

Levi inhales deeply and held you in a better position. “You’re going to be fine.” he says, but more to himself than to you. “Y/L/N, hey, look at me. You’ll be okay. Just hold on, Hange’s right on our tail they should be here soon.”

You watch his green cloak turn to an odd shade as your blood seeps through it. You sigh and smiled up at him, patting his trembling hand that he holds over your wound. You’ve worked in the infirmary long enough to know that this isn’t the type of wound you can just patch up. And as much as you’d refuse to believe, you doubt anyone else is coming to your rescue right now. You gave him an apologetic smile. “It’s okay, Captain. Don’t worry.” you say weakly and Levi felt his heart clench.

No, please. Not her too. He thinks idly, guilt and regret coursing thick in his veins. “It will be. Just hold on, I’ll look for-” he started to move but you grip his wrist with all the strength you have left and shake your head. “Just,” you swallow hard and search his bluish gray orbs, pleading “Can you just p-please, stay? With me? Until I-” you start to stammer, tears starting fill your eyes. “You and I both know I can't walk this out, Captain.” you say, smiling sadly.

Levi freezes as reality hits him. His usual stoic expression melting as he holds your face, nodding. “I won’t leave you.” he assures you and he felt his heart break at the way this mere statement lit up your entire face. Your smile is still as warm and beautiful even at the circumstance you’re currently in. The fact that this might be the last time he sees this makes his stomach turn. He tucks the loose strands of your hair behind your ear, murmuring “I promise.” His voice cracking in the slightest.

“Thank you, Captain. And I’m sorry I failed you.” your brows furrow. Levi shakes his head vehemently, a dry laugh escaping his lips. “No way in hell, Y/n. You saved me countless times. I’m still standing because of you.” His brows furrow as he feels your breath get more shallow and saw the blood that had pooled beneath you.

“If there’s anyone here who failed, it was me. I failed to protect you.” Levi leans down and planted a chaste kiss on your forehead. “I’m sorry.” he whispers.

Your eyes drift close, you feel so tired. “I’d do it all over again for you.“ you say, voice barely above a whisper. You looked up at him and finally, you confessed.

“I love you, Captain Levi.”

Levi felt the air got knocked out off of him, realizing that deep down, in some sort of way, he does love you too. Maybe not in the same way as you do, but enough to feel his usually unfeeling heart tear in his chest. He loves you and he’s going to lose you. Just like he lost his Mom, Farlan and Isabella.

Levi sighs, forcing out a small smile as he held your face. He then leans in and gave you a kiss. Are you just dreaming this? You blinked and placed a hand against his cheek. It feels so real. You smile against his lips and tried to kiss him back. Levi’s face crumple in sorrow but he kept kissing you, tasting your salty tears. Or maybe they were his, tears of regret he swore he will never feel again but he does now.

As Levi pulls away, he wipes your tear-stained cheeks then kisses your nose and your forehead. “I know you do. And there is no one else who could have loved me the way that you did.” he says, leaning his forehead against yours. You smile and gave in, letting your eyes fall close again. Your body no longer feel heavy. You felt afloat. Like you’re in a dream. You feel his soft breaths tickle your cheek and his familiar scent brought you peace.

If this is a dream, yeah, you wouldn’t mind not waking up.

“If there is a life after this one, I'll make sure to find you. And find some sort of way to make it up to you.” he says sincerely, wiping the tears that escaped your closed eyes.

“I’d like that.” you whisper. Levi waits for you to open your eyes again, holding his own breath as he listens to yours.

But he didn’t get to see those e/c orbs again.

Levi watches your smile fade as he feels your hand falls limp against his hold. His heart shatters to pieces feeling that you’re truly no longer there anymore. Levi touches your face one last time, and sent you off with a last kiss on the forehead. Promising himself to make sure your sacrifice was not for naught as he reclaims his sword from the ground.

[onyxiana-is-obsessed]

Who Are You? | Katsuki Bakugou x Reader x Tamaki Amajiki

AN: This one’s... a roller coaster xD Pronouns used: She/her Length: 3.5k words

Summary: You see your husbands, Katsuki and Tamaki, die right in front of you but when you come home, you see them alive and well right there. Who are they?

Warnings: Poly (BakuTama) + You, blood, angst, light swearing

POST EDIT: No one said anything about the banner but I still deleted it <3 I don’t need it ^w^

Full Name: (y/f/n) Quirk: (y/q) (again there are examples of your quirk being used, but there's nothing specific so you can alter it to be yours) Age: 25 Hero Name: (h/n) Hero Rank: 5

"No!" (f/n) yelled as the villain repeatedly stabbed Katsuki's chest. The weakened blond only grunted in pain as the knife impaled his torso over and over again. The powerful villain smirked and threw Katsuki right at (f/n), who reached out and caught him, but fell to the ground with him, unable to continue standing. She turned him on his back, desperately trying to stop the bleeding, but there were just... so many stab wounds.

"Baby! N-no! K-keep your eyes open!" (f/n) cried, tears falling onto Katsuki's face. Her hero suit was now covered in his blood; some even getting onto her face as she pushed her hair out of the way. Her hands were shaking uncontrollably; she was shaking uncontrollably.

"(f-f/n)..." Katsuki breathed out, his bloody hand reaching up and weakly cupping her cheek. This wasn't happening. It wasn't real, it just wasn't.

"S-stay awake! FOR ME!" She yelled, watching as his eyes moved from hers and towards the dark ceiling. "Suki! B-baby! Stop! This isn't funny!" She yelled, sobs escaping her lips. She'd never felt so vulnerable before, except when she was watching her husband die in front of her eyes. Her eyes widened as she watched the light leave his beautiful ruby eyes. She wailed, hugging his body closer, finding any solace in the now cold body. Was he always so cold? No... his quirk... it made him warmer. "C-come back! D-don't leave me... I-I-"

"Don't forget this one." The villain called, holding up a weakened Tamaki by his hair. He grunted, blood spilling down his mouth. (f/n) placed Katsuki down and stood up, slowly inching closer to the two.

"P-please don't! H-He's my ev-everything... do-don't take him away too." She sobbed, making the tall, merciless villain smirk.

"Then beg!" He demanded and without hesitation, (f/n) fell to her knees.

"Please. I'm begging... don't do this." The villain laughed, but (f/n) didn't care, she needed Tamaki alive. He was everything she had left now and so it didn't matter what she did, it didn't matter who saw what, she just... needed Tamaki alive.

"Ah, you're cuter on your knees. But no can do." (f/n)'s eyes widened as the villain grabbed Tamaki's head and twisted it, a sickening crack ringing through the silence. (f/n)'s heart stopped, and she couldn't breathe.

"N-no..." She muttered, standing up to run to the villain, but he had other plans. He threw Tamaki's corpse at (f/n), causing him to collide with her and fall back onto the ground. He was heavy. Quickly scrambling up, (f/n) grabbed Tamaki's head, which limply laid in her arms. His eyes were open... with no sign of life. Anger burned in her chest and she could feel herself coming apart. They weren't gone, no they were just sleeping. They were tired and they needed rest. But (f/n) still needed to handle the villain... right?

Blood for blood.

No.

No.

No.

Tamaki and Katsuki would never approve of something like that. How dare she even think of that?! Tears rolled down (f/n)'s cheek as she hugged Tamaki's head, she was shaking again. Her face, suit, hands, everything was covered in blood. She begged every god out there to just let this be some nightmare. She'd wake up any second... because none of it was true.

Her quirk forced itself out, making her let out a loud scream she was holding back, shattering all the glass in the building and around the nearby buildings. Everyone felt the immense shock wave, as screams were heard outside, along with car alarms.

The burst was strong enough to push the villain back, slamming him into the wall, knocking him out immediately. (f/n) stood up, tiredly pulling Tamaki's corpse towards Katsuki's, where she sat down and just sobbed.

~**~

(f/n) stumbled into her house, shutting the door behind her and locking it. She leaned against the wood, slowly sliding down. She covered her mouth with her shaky, bloody hand as the realization hit her.

They were gone.

No more hugs, no more late-night cuddles, talks, no tickle fights, no competition to see who could make Tamaki blush the most, no more nights were the three cooked a meal together, no more giving Tamaki food and having him guess the mystery ingredients, none of that. Everything all taken one in one night... because she was too slow.

(f/n) failed to save them. They were supposed to have each other's backs, they were supposed to take care of each other... so how did this happen? They weren't... even supposed to be there tonight. Her eyes traveled to the picture frame on the wall and a sob left her lips.

It was a picture of Katsuki and Tamaki at the amusement park. The three had gone together and they took so many pictures that day, it was truly one of the best days of their lives. In the picture, Katsuki stood next to Tamaki with his arm around the dark-haired male, who was blushing with an ice cream in his hand. However, they both had bright smiles on their faces as (f/n) took the picture. She remembered that day vividly... realizing she'd never have another memory like that again.

Something snapped inside of the woman, anger flowed through her veins and her hands flew to her hair. Her eyes shut tight and she could feel her quirk starting to overload in her body. She began to hit her head, pulling at her hair and let out an ear-piercing scream. Her quirk was starting to build up pressure around her again and she was slowly losing her grip on it.

Both Tamaki and Katsuki awoke with a terrifying start. Instinctively, Katsuki pulled Tamaki into him, pointing his other hand towards the door. Since Tamaki's quirk wasn't very useful at the moment, he needed to rely on Katsuki. However, after a few seconds, they realized the screaming was coming from the living room.

"Th-that's Bunny!" Tamaki yelled, making both of them frantically get out of bed and run towards the source of the screams. Their eyes widened at the sight of their wife on the floor, crying, hitting her head, and covered in blood. Lots of blood.

"Baby!"

"Bunny!" Both of them ran to her, grabbing her hands in an attempt to stop her from hurting herself. They tried to shush and talk to her, but her screams were just so loud. Katsuki covered her mouth as Tamaki tried to get her attention.

"(f/n)! I-It's ok!" Tamaki was scared, he was shaking. He'd never seen (f/n) like this, never. Aside from her breakdown, she was covered in blood. All on a patrol?

"(f/n)!" Katsuki yelled. The two leaned in closer, holding her, having no other way to stop her. The second their scents filled her nose, she stopped screaming, or even struggling. She opened her eyes, fear laced in her stare, as she felt them whispering in her ear. She wasn't able to keep up, however, their words just seemed to blur, like everything around her.

This wasn't real. It was a trick. They died, Katsuki died in her arms, and she watched the villain snap Tamaki's neck.

The fear in her eyes morphed into anger. How dare anyone impersonate them? In front of her? Her hands moved, her fingers enclosed around their neck as panic crossed their faces as (f/n) used her quirk. She threw them both into the wall behind them and before they could recover, she was in front of them. Her hand was at their throats and she was starting to squeeze.

"Who are you?!" She demanded.

"Bunny!" Tamaki choked out, both he and Katsuki grabbed her hand in an attempt to loosen her grip from their throats.

"Don't call me that!" She spat. "Who are you?! How dare you impersonate them?! I'll kill you! I'll splatter your blood on these walls!" Katsuki had no choice, as much as he didn't want to, he quickly pressed his hand onto her chest, letting an explosion go off.

(f/n) screamed as she let go, giving Katsuki and Tamaki a chance to escape. However, the latter had frozen up, making the blond grab his hand and run with him. They both ran upstairs, running into the master bedroom and shutting the door, with Katsuki locking it.

"Wh-what's wrong with her?" Tamaki asked, falling to his knees. Katsuki ran to his side, wrapping his arms around his frightened husband. "Wh-why? Splatter... our blood on the walls."

"It'll be ok, something must've happened on her patrol tonight," Katsuki muttered. Tamaki's shaking hand reached up to touch Katsuki's arm. His grip tightened when they heard banging on the door. Both of their grips tightened as they flinched at the violent sounds.

"I'll tear you apart!" They heard. "You took them from me! You took away everything I had! Now I'm gonna take your lives!" They winced at the loud crash and banging on the door. "I'LL KILL YOU THE SAME WAY YOU KILLED MY GROUND ZERO AND SUNEATER!"

Their home was reinforced against most all quirks, so their doors and windows couldn't be destroyed easily. That's why (f/n) couldn't get in, especially for cases like this. Since the woman couldn't get in, all she could do was hit the door.

Both Katsuki and Tamaki were starting to piece things together. There must've been a villain attack during her patrol and she clearly thought something happened to them both.

"W-wait... sh-she thinks w-we're dead?" Tamaki stuttered.

"What? Babe! W-we didn't die! We're still alive!" Katsuki yelled through the door. For a moment, the clatter stopped, giving Tamaki a chance to speak.

"Bunny! We're r-right here... it's us." Silence. They heard a soft sob, but it was quickly followed by a growl.

"Shut up!" She kicked the door. "I-I saw them! I saw their dead bodies! I saw them die!"

"We're right here, dumbass!" Katsuki yelled, making her scream and slam her hands on the door again.

"Open the door, you bastards! I'll tear you apart! OPEN! THE! DOORS!" (f/n) yelled, punching the door, repeatedly. Tamaki covered his ears, feeling the world start closing in on him. She was scary! She was so fucking scary. Katsuki held him tighter, as he tried to comfort the male over the incoherent screaming.

"It'll be ok, Tama," The blond rubbed his arms, making Tamaki whimper as tears slipped out of his eyes. "Shh, don't cry baby." (f/n) was only making it worse, but there was nothing Katsuki could do. Except go out there and fight her. He'd lose, though. (f/n) was stronger than him, she'd worked so hard to strengthen and control her quirk, it was amazing, when she wasn't coming after you. With the rage and fury she had, she'd for sure kill him. Katsuki pressed his hands onto Tamaki's trying his best to muffle his own voice. "SHUT UP, (F/N)! YOU'RE MAKING TAMAKI CRY!"

"Come out here, cowards! I'll give you both something to cry about! OPEN THE DOOR!'"

"B-Bunny wants to k-kill us?"

"No," Katsuki said, "She's... she's just confused." The blond held his husband close while their wife banged on the door, repeatedly.

(f/n)'s vision blurred, her chest burned and her hands stung from all the attacks on the door. Her hands came to a slow stop as she let out a sob, weakly hitting the door.

"Why are you villains so cruel? Y-you took away my everything." Her voice cracked as she took deep breaths, trying to calm herself. "Why?"

"We're right here, (n/n). It's us." Katsuki reassured, his arms still around Tamaki's shaking form.

"Kill me too, then." She could hear them gasp. "Kill me too and send me to them..."

"B-Bunny! D-don't say that!" There was another bang on the door at Tamaki's words.

"I said don't call me that!" She screamed. "I... watched them die. I watched the light drain from their beautiful eyes! No more cuddles, movie nights, no more laughing with them, no more tickle fights, no more saving the world with them. You took away two beautiful people! Two beautiful heroes, sons, husbands... they were... good people. They were my heroes dammit! They were my drive! My passion! My entire fucking world! How dare you impersonate them?! I'll spill your blood, I swear I will! I'm gonna grind you into dust!" Now it made sense, whatever villain she went up against must've done something to her with their quirk.

"(h/n)!" Katsuki called out, trying a different tactic. "What you saw wasn't real! We're fine! S-Suneater and Ground Zero are fine!" She scoffed.

"You're still going with that? Pathetic." (f/n)'s phone buzzed and she looked down. Knowing they wouldn't open the door, she stepped back for a second, quietly talking into the phone. "What?"

"(h/n)! They're fine! It was the villain's quirk!"

"What?"

"When the villain woke up, both Suneater and Ground Zero's body turned to dust, he confirmed they were both fakes. He can create illusions, pretty realistic ones. However, he escaped and he's headed your way!"

"What does he want with me?"

"I don't know, but do not fall for his tricks again-" (f/n) stopped paying attention when the door slammed open and she saw the same villain standing there with a smirk on his face.

"(h/n), we meet again." Beside him, both Suneater and Ground Zero appeared, smirks on their faces. Her eyes widened as she dropped her phone. They... they're real. (f/n) touched the door, slowly knocking on it.

"It's us! We swear!" Katsuki called out. They were fine, but she had no time to relax.

"Keep Suneater safe, Ground Zero." (f/n) said before she glared at the villain. "I'll kill you, you bastard!" Katsuki almost blushed at how perfect she sounded screaming his all-familiar line.

"Wow, sounding a lot like Ground Zero there!" The villain yelled, getting both Tamaki and Katsuki's attention. He followed her here?! What did he want with her?!

"DIE!" She screamed as she jumped over the railings and down to the villain. If... if they weren't in such a high-stress situation, Katsuki would've been so damn proud of her. Her quirk was in lethal mode as (f/n) quickly killed the two clones and attacked the villain.

(AN: Neither "lethal mode" nor "enraged mode" are a "setting" for your quirk, it's just another way to describe how angry you are)

He stood no chance against her enraged mode, she was just too damn fast and too strong. Her rage fueled her drive and she was unstoppable. Through her phone, her friend, (f/h/n), heard her and immediately sent the police to her home.

(f/n)'s quirk was too much, she grabbed the villain's arm and pulled, slamming him into a wall, then onto the ground. She pressed her knee onto his back, pulling his arm behind him and pressing her hand on his head.

"MOVE AND I'LL KILL YOU!"

"That's... not very... heroic of you." The villain struggled.

"Do I look like I care?"

"You're so f-feisty! I like it!" He laughed, making her slap him.

"What do you want with me?"

"You... Missy, arrested a few buddies of mine a wh-while back," The villain's voice came out strained, due to all the pressure on him. "I-I'm just g-getting revenge."

"Pathetic." She growled. "You and your entire band of useless villains. Can't help anyone if you're dead."

"Wh-what kind of h-hero are you?" He laughed. "Are you even a hero?"

"Take away my Suneater and Ground Zero and then ask me that."

"I already did."

"Then no."

"S-Stain wou-would never app-approve of you."

"I don't care. Now shut up." She raised his head slightly and slammed it onto the floor, making him grunt. It'd only taken a couple of minutes before the police arrived.

"POLICE!"

"He's down!" (f/n) yelled back, which gave Katsuki and Tamaki the ok to open the door. They saw the police run into their home and arrest the man underneath (f/n). As he stood up, he looked at both men and gave them a smirk.

"It was fun killing you both." (f/n) kicked his leg, making two cops grab her and pull her away, while the others dragged the villain away.

"Let go of me. I'm fine." (f/n) demanded and they obeyed, once the villain was out of sight. They took her outside, getting her statement, which they'd failed to get earlier since she ran off. The entire time, Katsuki comforted Tamaki in their room, letting him know everything was ok. He was still shaking after everything.

After about thirty minutes, (f/n) was done. She shut the door and looked up towards the master bedroom, which was just barely visible from the front door. After locking up, she slowly made her way up to the room, where she heard both males talking. She stopped for a second, right by the door.

"She was... so scary." Tamaki muttered.

"Well... at least we know she cares for us." Katsuki added. "But yeah, she's pretty scary. I don't blame her... if something happened to both of you... I'd probably lose my shit just like that."

"Yeah... me too." The three had been friends since high school. Katsuki and Tamaki had met first, on the day Tamaki was introduced to class 1-A. Over time, they became friends, extremely close friends. They hadn't started dating officially, but were practically at that point. (f/n) had transferred in late and was placed in Class 1-A as well. Boy, did she take the school with surprise with her quirk, which was rather rare. Her quirk was (y/q) and she already showed great promise with it. Enough to where the Big 3 were interested in her.

(f/n) became great friends with Katsuki right away, who ended up introducing her to Tamaki. Sure, Katsuki and Tamaki both had powerful quirks, but they were really nothing compared to her, especially not the way she used it.

Soon, they began dating and eventually married each other. It was fair to see why (f/n) lost control the way she did. Anyone would've.

(f/n) sighed inaudibly as she stood in the door frame, both males looking up at her. Her eyes scanned their figures, but instead of running to them, she just stayed there, on guard.

"A-are you ok?" Katsuki asked.

"The... clones... they were so realistic." She murmured. They stood up and her eyes followed their figures, being careful.

"C-Can we come closer?" Tamaki asked, making her look up at him. They could see the desperation in her eyes.

"You're... real right? Not some figment of my imagination or something?"

"We're real, babe. As real as you." She moved towards them, slowly at first, but then picked up the pace. Her arms wrapped around both of them as they hugged back tightly.

"B-by the way, Bunny," Tamaki started as the three pulled apart. "Wh-who's blood is that?"

"Oh," She looked down, her entire suit was covered in blood, as well as her hands and she even had blood on her face. "Well... it was Katsuki's. Or at least his clone's. "I should shower."

"Why don't we help?" Katsuki smirked.

"Aren't you both tired?" (f/n) asked, making both of them shake their heads. Especially Tamaki.

"No, you chased away any need for sleep a while ago." He answered, his hand running through his hair. (f/n) looked away, shying away a bit.

"Oh yeah, sorry about that. I... got so angry when I thought they killed you but then decided to pretend to be you."

"Scared the hell outta me," Katsuki muttered, making (f/n) giggle.

"Wow, the great and mighty Lord Explosion Murder scared of a little girl?" He gawked at her.

"L-Little girl?! You almost broke our door down with all that banging. Which, by the way, might I add, the way you screamed "DIE" almost made me blush. Looks like I'm rubbing off on you. Now we just have to wait for Tamaki to scream die before going into a fight and we'll be set." (f/n) only giggled as she started walking towards the bathroom, when Katsuki caught her arm. "No, come back." He pulled her back, placing a loving, passionate kiss on her lips. When they pulled apart, she blinked a few times, only to be surprised by Tamaki, who poured just as much passion and love into his kiss.

Yeah, it was them.

[master-of-nyom]

Confidence in Each Other Chapter 8 sneak preview

As much as he would’ve liked to just rage and act up on his frustration, Tooru was trying to restrain his murderous urges, not keen on exposing any kind of weakness to someone who was undoubtedly his greatest enemy. Or as close as it can get when it comes to highschool volleyball. Squashing down as much of the unbridled fury bubbling underneath the surface of his carefully sculpted mask of indifference, he bit back, “No need to go all modest now, we both know that by ‘players’, plural, the great Ushiwaka-sama means only himself.”

“That seems to be your own misconception,” Ushijima replied without missing a beat and Tooru felt a few veins on his forehead pop, in an entirely Iwa-chan-esque fashion. “Though I see nothing wrong in admitting one’s own strength.”

Tooru snorted, “It’s called being an asshole.”

“What’s wrong with being self-assured?” 

This was going nowhere. Ushiwaka was his usual Ushiwaka-self and that meant that they could be at it for ages and still not reach whatever-the-point the spiker was trying to make. If he even had one. 

And frankly, Tooru’s patience for that kind of thing has run out sometime during his third year of middle school so, without any more preamble, he leaned forward with the most disdainful expression and spat out, “Oh nothing really. Stay in that perfect little bubble of yours, I don’t care. Just get it through to that thick skull of yours that I have no intention of joining you there. I don’t need to bow to anyone to be the strongest.”

One blink. Two. Minute tilt of a head to the right, “Then how come you’ve yet to defeat me? There’s a clear contradiction here.”

Suddenly, Tooru’s at a loss for words. Ushijima was a man of many talents, it seemed: aside from being a nationally ranked spiker, undoubtedly the strongest in the prefecture, he was also unnervingly skilled at riling Tooru up. And, more often than the setter would like, hitting where it hurts. That one question, asked with an innocence so out-of-place it felt like being hit by a bullet train, spiked up all of Tooru’s insecurities and made them flare up in neon bright “DANGER! DANGER!” Cause really, why hadn’t he come out victorious even a single time? He was in perfect form, so much that even the press recognized it and wanted to interview him. ‘Only to talk about the “formidable opponent” he faced.’ The blockers didn’t really get a clear read on him. ‘Until late in the match.’ His serves were as sharp and accurate as usual. ‘Except those times when they ended up either outside the court or on libero’s hands.’ His tosses were on-point, perfectly suited for every spiker on their team…

Sensing Tooru’s internal turmoil, or maybe just making use of him not responding to add those few words that never fail to haunt him in his dreams, “You should’ve come to Shiratorizawa.”

‘Were they really?’

He thought about Mattsun, reading his tosses and squashing his and Iwa-chan’s strongest weapon like one would an irritating bug. Thought about Makki, fooling him with his emergency tosses like a magician diverting his attention from trickery in plain sight. About Suga-chan, picking up his serves one by one, like it was the easiest thing in the world…

“Tooru?”

***

Did I say 8 days? Scratch that, let’s make it now, shall we?

I low-key forgot how much work I can get done in one sitting if I actually make myself do something productive. Also, fuck studying eh?

That being said, Chapter 8, Take One for the Team, will come out in the next few days as I finish the absolute last scene (and see if I manage to top the whooping 11k from last time, cause it’s looking really like it might be the case :P ) and with it a whole bunch of angst that we are surely NOT prepared for.

Also, this chapter will be unbeta’ed as my friend is even more busy with exams than I am (I have half of mine already finished, she hasn’t even started) so we die like men because really, I just can’t wait to post and I’m sure you can’t wait for me to do so either ;)

Yours truly Master of Nyom, over and out!

[afewmarvelousthoughts]

The Devil’s Daughter Ch. 1

Master List: @afewmarvelousthoughtsadmin​

Pairing: The Winter Soldier X Reader (Bucky X Reader)

Summary: Born and bred to be a monster worthy to lead Hydra into a new age you must decide if you will become the beast they always intended or perhaps something greater... Someone worthy even, of love. 

Warnings: Literally all of them. 18+ only and please read with caution if you’re triggered by violence of any nature.

A/N: Well. Here we go. 

I won’t lie. Writing this was cathartic and I hope that it may be the same reading it. Some serious ANTIFA fuck this up vibes. 

Love y’all. 

TAGS ARE OPEN

You weren’t sure how long you’d stared at your hands. 

They seemed strange things, somehow beyond your comprehension. Attempts to flex the fingers on them had resulted in only an unsettling twitch, you knew that wasn’t the right response, and they were somehow both burning and cold in equal measure. 

In fact, your whole body felt like a contradiction. Something known, yet foreign. Too much feeling, too little. Too hot, too cold. Too still, yet constantly something was moving. 

Had you always been able to feel the flow of blood through your veins? Did each hair follicle always hum as the air moved around you? Who… who were you?

All the memories of the past 20 years hit you with the force of a train. 

Frantically you begin to pace in the small white room, your heartbeat increasing with each lap, your breathing turning into a rapid pant. Your mind steadily piecing things together, for better or worse, pulling who you were back into sharp focus. With that clarity comes something else.

Taking a deep breath your pacing stops. 

There wasn’t a word for what you felt. This emotion went farther than rage, conviction, or vengeance. You think you’ve felt it before, in fleeting moments, but now it’s amplified - along with everything else it seemed - now-

A creaking under your hands draws your attention, pulling you away from that line of thought. With confusion, you gape at the metal bed frame beneath your hands. You’d taken hold of it when you’d stopped pacing and now the metal was crumpled and twisted. 

It worked, you realize. It actually, bloody, worked. A small chuckle trips over your lips - you’d genuinely thought you’d end up like Pierce’s daughter, dead. 

A few weeks ago was the first time you’d seen Eric in almost a year. 

He’d been different in a way you couldn’t name since that night with The Soldier. You knew it wasn’t that he actually remembered what happened - if he had you’d no doubt he’d have come close to killing you - but perhaps an impression of something stuck. Regardless, when the time came for you to go to uni a few months later he’d set you up with your own flat and sent you on your way, saying that you needed ‘time to explore yourself.’ 

It was the one kindness he’d ever done you. 

In the last three years, you’d crafted a new version of yourself. 

She was normal, relatively speaking. Studied business, partied in SoHo with friends, had a string of short - albeit far from vanilla - affairs with several people, fairly typical stuff. 

The only time you saw Eric was for required formal events, someone ascending the ranks within Hydra or the random social event. It totaled to perhaps six or seven in three years. Which was why you were shocked, and a bit unsettled, to see him at your graduation.

You’d been worried his presence would keep you from enjoying the moment with your friends, that he’d pull you into some droll dinner to pretend he was a caring and proud father. Instead, he’d simply given you a cold congratulations and instructed you to meet him at his office the following Monday. 

It still put a damper on your entire celebration - all you could think about was what the hell he wanted from you. Not even the distraction of a beautiful woman clad in leather had managed to remove your worry. 

There had been a million things you’d thought this meeting would be about. You’d run countless scenarios in your head. None came close to what your father shared with you from across his polished desk. 

“We feel it’s time for you to join The Council.” He said as though he was commenting on the weather.

“I-I’m honored.” you stammer a bit grimacing internally. He raises a doubting brow at you before striding over to the stocked bar cart to begin pouring a drink. 

“You’ll be taking the third seat.” You almost choke on your tea. “Is that a problem?” He asks over his shoulder. 

“Not at all,” you say, willing your voice steady. “What position will Jennifer Pierce be taking in that case?” Alexander Pierce headed the US arm of Hydra and to your knowledge, the third seat had been intended for his daughter. 

“Jennifer Pierce is dead.” 

“Ah.”

“Of course-” he says, turning back to you and taking a sip of scotch before continuing- “there can be no ascension of this kind without a trial to test your worth.” You knew as much, Hydra always demanded a pound of flesh - at minimum.

“She failed hers.” Jennifer was many years your senior, had done years of fieldwork and been a trusted confidant of her own father if, she failed whatever trial this seat demanded… “You will not.” 

“Can you hear us?” A male voice asks over hidden speakers bringing you back to the present. 

“Yes.”

“Can you tell us your full name?”

“Catherine Eileen Clayton.”

“What is your date of birth, Catherine?” Ah, cognitive tests. 

“The third of January 1983,” you sigh. “I’m twenty years old, a double Capricorn, and very in control of my faculties. Can we move on?”

A buzz sounds by the door. The noise grates against your newly sensitive eardrums, causing you to grimace. When it opens Eric stands in the corridor, a proud, if not smug, smile on his face. 

“I knew you were born for this,” he extends a hand. You eye it before looking up to meet his gaze. Rather than take it you remain unmoving, waiting for him to tell you what came next. For a fleeting second his eyes narrow before sweeping his arm to beckon you from the room.

“There is one final step before you’ll be ready to ascend to your seat on The Council,” he begins to stride down the hall, expecting you to follow. 

“And that is?” He stops dead in his tracks. Your heart leaps into your throat as you recognize the set of his shoulders, instinctively you brace for a blow. Instead, he turns slowly to you, his expression unreadable as he observes how you haven’t moved. 

“You can rot in that room or follow me obediently to find out.” A too familiar chill crawls up your spine and settles in your chest. Without another word, you follow him. 

As you make your way through the labyrinthine corridors of Hydra’s London base you remember being dropped down here at 10, and having to find your way out - none of the adults you encountered would even acknowledge you existed. You remember training in one of these many blank rooms - both physical and mental - though, torture may be a better word. 

The chasm that opens in your mind almost feels like home, one you haven’t been to in a little while. Quickly you turn your thoughts to how your blood seems to hum through your veins, how loud your steps are, the low tension in your muscles - anything to pull you away from that beckoning void. 

Eric stops in front of a nondescript door, pressing his thumb into the handle. An unseen mechanism whirs to life followed by a distinct click. Before he opens the door he turns his eyes on you, studying. 

“You’ve done well thus far,” he turns the handle, looking forward. “Don’t disappoint me now, Catherine.” You don’t miss the order in his tone. A voice whispers, Yes Papa, but you refuse to let your tongue form those words. 

With bated breath, you follow him. It’s much like a room you remember from long ago, a cell where he showed you exactly the kinds of monsters that Hydra could craft. Behind you the door closes, the locks sliding back into place. 

A cell lies on the other side of the room. Through the bars, you see a woman, nude, her back to you. Deep red hair tumbling in thick waves, her ragged breath scraping over your ears. 

No, you beg silently, not her. Please not her.

Once you and Eric enter the cell, the woman turns red-rimmed eyes to you both. Relief thunders through you as you release the breath you didn’t know you’d been holding. This wasn’t Natalia, they hadn’t brought her here as a sacrifice to whatever future lay before you. Though, now the question rattled in your brain, impossible to ignore. 

“What is this?” You ask, lazily gesturing toward the woman. 

“What do you think?” 

“Can we stop with the riddles? Just fuc-” 

You were clearly out of practice. When his backhand cracks across your cheek it leaves you reeling, ears ringing, though you don’t fall. Once you blink your vision clear you look back to him, attempting to keep your face straight. 

“I believe I asked you a question,” he sighs out. 

You answer, “I assume she’s failed in some way, showed some unforgivable weakness.” You try to stop the words but they come anyway, “But you cannot expect me to kill her?”

“Oh? And why is that?” It’s your turn to sigh. 

“Honestly, that is hardly a test. If it gets things moving forward I suppose I will,” the woman shifts her back against the wall at this. “I just don’t know what that will prove.” He smiles, slowly. Clearly you got something right. 

“Perceptive. Killing her would be nothing for you, even before,” you swear the sick bastard looks proud. That void threatens once more, something whispering from the darkness. You push it away. 

“However, you’re wrong about her crime. She’s not here for being weak or unworthy, rather, she has refused to fall in line. We have no need for an unbroken horse.” He pauses, striding to the other side of the cell.

With his back turned, you look into her eyes. They burn with a fire you recognize - for an instant, you’re 11 again, you can feel the weight of that gun in your hands, hear your Mother’s voice- 

“But you won’t be putting her down.” The sound of another lock clicking draws your focus to where Eric stands, hands behind his back. 

A panel slides open with a swish. Eric steps aside just enough and you see him, The Soldier. 

He’d been gone when you’d woken in the late afternoon years ago, like some macabre guardian angel. Habitually, your fingers stroke the scar on your palm, remembering how gentle he’d been as he sutured the cut. 

The woman begins to sob. A broken, “No,” slipping out here and there.

Eric turns back to you, a wicked smile coloring his features. “The Fist of Hydra,” he walks back to stand beside you, The Soldier doesn’t move. 

“You remember him don’t you?” Your heart begins to beat a tattoo of alarm against your ribs. “I showed him to you when you were a child.” 

“Yes,” you will your heart to quiet, feeling like it’s loud enough for the whole room to hear. 

“It’s one thing to take a life and quite another to put the blood on the hands of someone else.” He looks down at you, “You’ll prove you can handle that, and The Soldier, by utilizing him to remove this stain from our ranks.” 

He looks over his shoulder at the woman, “Be creative. He hasn’t been let loose in some time.” With that, he strolls casually to the far corner of the cell, leaning back against the wall as though he was about to watch some kids play football.

The Soldier steps forward and the panel behind him slides shut, disappearing as though it never was. You study him, searching those pale eyes for some spark of recognition. Whatever had been there before was long gone, all that stood before you was a weapon, a tool waiting to be put to use. It chilled you. 

Behind you, the woman still weeps. It makes something bitter rise in you - pathetic, she was nothing like your mother. Even so, words you hadn’t allowed yourself to remember for so long rise in your mind.

“Always remember that you are more than this.”

“No.” One crisp, clear, syllable. It may as well have been a bomb. 

“Excuse me?” 

“You’ll be better than all of them as long as you remember.” Your mother’s voice echoes in your mind.

Languidly you slide your eyes to Eric, “I said, no.” 

Everything goes quiet as his anger builds, a fire slowly eating all the oxygen in the space. What was coming would likely consume you leaving nothing but a husk behind, you don’t care. It feels good. 

Despite the waves of rage rolling off of him, his face remains impassive as he approaches you. A couple of feet away he stops, head tilting to the side as though he was seeing something puzzling.  

“She’s done nothing worth a death sentence.” You state matter of factly. 

“You’re questioning me?”

“No,” god that word felt so good, intoxicating. Maybe you were mad from the power it seemed to give you. It was the best explanation for your next words. “I’m telling you you’re wrong.” 

You read once that wolves show their teeth before they attack. Devils, you know, do the same. 

Eric’s smile is broad as he slips his suit jacket off his shoulders. Your eyes track him as he hangs it over the horizontal bar of the cell. Unhurriedly he unbuttons his cuffs, methodically rolling the sleeves up to the elbow. When he speaks again, he’s unbuttoning a single button to allow him room to tuck away his tie.

“Then how would you address the situation, Catherine?”

“I wouldn’t.” He steps toward you, on instinct you move back, not wanting to allow him a close range to strike.

“You’d allow disrespect to stand? Allow this stain to spread?” Another step forward, another retreat from you. 

“No.” 

“Then what? You’d do nothing to handle this weak-”

“You said yourself she isn’t weak. In fact, it seems to me, the problem is your own weakness if you can’t handle one-” 

Stupid. That’s the only word echoing through your skull as it slams into the wall behind you with enough force to knock a lesser person unconscious. 

Right now you’re not thinking about the bent metal of the bed frame in your recovery room. You’re not thinking of your sensitive ears or the weeks of preparation, or that you lived through the procedure when others have died. 

No. 

Right now you’re a little girl again, realizing your father is the Devil for the first time. Right now you’re the same powerless thing you’ve always been in his presence, the fear of a lifetime suffocating you. 

“Would you like to finish that statement?” Eric growls. You shake your head, too afraid to speak. “I thought not.” His fingers dig into your neck. 

“You’ve grown far too bold. Forgotten where you belong.” He takes a deep breath, eyelids fluttering as though the smell of your terror was intoxicating. “Perhaps you need a reminder.” 

“I’m sorry, Papa,” god you hate yourself for those words. 

“No,” he reclaims the power you’d felt so briefly. His knee pries your thighs apart, “You will be.” 

When his head dips down, the grotesque feel of his tongue against the skin of your neck almost makes you wretch. Before you close your eyes in an attempt to block out everything happening and all you know is to come, you catch The Soldier’s intent stare. 

He looked as though he was straining on an invisible leash, his entire body coiled tension begging for release. 

He’s waiting on something, you think as teeth sink into your shoulder. The pain brings clarity. He’s waiting on me. 

All it takes is one nod to break the invisible tethers binding him. With terrifying speed, The Soldier strikes, pulling Eric from you, pinning his arms and legs, rendering him immobile. To his credit he didn’t struggle, knowing he couldn’t break such a hold. 

“Release me, Soldat!” Eric barks in harsh Russian. The Soldier doesn’t even flinch, his eyes remain locked on you, awaiting an order. “Soldat!”

The fear which had paralyzed you seeps away as your senses begin to return and you stare at Eric. He looks angry but still calm, never willing to let his facade fall for long. Under the surface though, you can hear the racing of his heart, it seems to pick up at the same pace your own slows. The vein in his throat pulses, his breath is barely controlled, and you note the small beads of sweat beginning to form on his skin. 

Weak, something hisses from that void. This time you don’t silence it - you agree, you welcome it, this darkness he so proudly fostered within you. Now you allow the void to rise. He made you this. Killer. Demon. Weapon. The void whispers. And it is not wrong. You were all these things and now-

You kneel before Eric, gripping his chin in your hand. 

“I don’t think he listens to you anymore, Papa,” you say, the final word laced with mockery. You pat his cheek as you stand and pace away, purposely showing your back to him to be sure he knew you were no longer afraid. That you’d never be afraid of him again. 

“I do think you had a point earlier though. About putting blood on someone else’s hands being different.” You turn back to him, wanting to look into his eyes as you say, “It would be a shame to waste such a prime opportunity to learn. Don’t you think?” His eyes widen in understanding that now, the void he created would consume him.

“Soldier,” you look to him, those cold blue eyes unwavering. “Break him, but do not let him die.” 

You had worried for a moment that you needed to be more specific in your commands. After all, you wanted your father to suffer at least a taste of the horrors he’d done to others throughout his life. It only took a few moments for you to see that you worried in vain. Be it training or retribution, The Soldier methodically broke Eric down in ways that would cause the most pain without the release of death. 

For what may have been hours you remain entranced by the scene before you. Every cry of pain was a symphony. The blood on the cold concrete a masterpiece. 

This was for your mother. For every person, he’d hurt. For the child, he’d broken and forged into something irredeemable. 

This was justice. Or at the very least, the justice you understood, the justice he deserved. 

“That’s enough,” you sigh contently. Without hesitation The Soldier stops, stepping away from Eric. 

Your father’s face is almost unrecognizable. Blood, tears, snot, and vomit all paint his features into something different, something grotesque. The outside finally reflecting the sickening soul beneath. Slowly you take in the rest of his broken body, stopping at the wet stain on his trousers. 

“Piss? Really, Eric, you’re embarrassing yourself.” You press your boot to his throat as he’d done to you when you were a child. 

“You once told me, that dangerous miscalculations only served to land one under the boot of those worthy of bravery. Do you remember?” He makes no move of acknowledgment, only stares up at you with one defiant eye - the other swollen shut. 

“Oh you must,” you press harder and he gurgles. “It was just before you made me put a bullet in my mother’s head.”

“Tell me, Papa,” you spit the word. “Am I brave enough now?” 

You lift him from the floor as though he’s nothing but a rag doll and slam him into the wall where he’d pinned you earlier. Exhilaration didn’t come close to encapsulating this feeling. 

“I believe I asked you a question,” you say in an echo of his own cool tone. 

“You… little… devil,” he manages to say with a mouth missing several teeth. A laugh, bright and ringing, pours from you.

“I am the devil you made. Aren’t you proud?” 

With one hand on Eric’s throat, and the other on his chest, you begin to push your fingers between his ribs, pressure increasing bit by bit. 

The tattered fabric of his shirt and his flesh begins to give way beneath your steel fingers. A whimper rises from him that slowly forms into a cry of agony. All you can do is smile as you feel the wet heat around your hand. 

A little further and you feel the beat, the pulse of life that had animated this man for all his days. 

“Goodbye, Papa,” you whisper as you squeeze and feel that pulse cease. 

The silence that follows is absolute. 

Everything in you, and around you, quiet. 

Eventually, you let him drop to the floor in an undignified heap, stepping back. Only then does the void recede enough for you to feel anything more than triumph. Even then, you feel no regret, only the heavy knowledge of the price your actions would demand. 

A trembling breath escapes you as soft shifting sound draws your focus from what you’d done and back to The Soldier. He stands straight, quietly observing you. When you meet his eyes you’d swear there was satisfaction there. 

Fuck it. You’d likely die for this and even with him by your side you were not going to get out of this building unless they let you out. 

“Care for a drink?” You ask, lips quirking in a smile. He says nothing, just cocks his head a bit to the side. You shrug, “Suit yourself. I’m getting one.” Or several. 

To your surprise, the door to the cell opens. You stroll out hearing him just behind you. Good. 

“Hey!” A woman calls out. “What about me?” Honestly, you’d forgotten about her entirely. 

“What about you?” Is all you toss over your shoulder as the cell slams shut behind you. 

There was nothing you could do for her now, hell there wasn’t anything you could truly do for yourself. It would be a miracle if you made it back to Eric’s office without a bullet in your head. The Soldier may even be the one to put it there, he may be biding his time - though something in you doubted this. 

You’d spared the woman all you could, the rest would be up to her. 

The private elevator slides open, revealing Eric’s office, not a guard, soldier, or assassin in sight - well, save for the one you rode up with. You’re surprised but not relieved. They’d come, and soon. 

You raise your hands to rub your face only to be hit with the copper tang of blood - your right arm covered almost to the elbow. Suddenly you’re too hot, burning, your chest tight.

Outside the floor to ceiling window, London glitters like something in a fairytale. You rush to it, pressing your face to the cool glass, forcing your mind to focus on the city around you. Even through the thick glass, you can hear the rush of the wind, the slightest hum of traffic below. 

Breathe, Catherine, you try to coach yourself. Breathe. But you can’t. 

The blood paired with the city sounds that should have been impossible for you to hear makes you realize something you’d been foolish to miss in the first place. They would not kill you. Not now. 

Eric had once said that Hydra didn’t make a habit of wasting good parts, one look at The Soldier was a fair reminder of that. Before, you’d been valuable enough but ultimately replaceable - now you were an investment. 

“Someone is coming.” The Soldier’s voice cuts through your panic like a knife. You turn to see him by the door, arms crossed. Whether he was keeping you in or others out you couldn’t know. 

Taking a shaky breath you nod, “Thought they’d be faster about it if I’m being honest.” As the doorknob turns his hand moves for the knife in his belt. Interesting. 

“No,” you shake your head. He stands at attention instead, looking more like a blood-spattered statue than a man. You lean against the desk as the door swings open to reveal -

“Secretary Pierce?” You don’t try to hide the surprise in your voice, he wasn’t exactly who you’d expect to come for you. 

“Miss Clayton,” he smiles brightly. “I wasn’t sure if you’d be here. It’s been too long,” he holds out a hand. 

“Ah,” you hold up your red right palm. “Haven’t had a chance to freshen up. Please, make yourself comfortable,” you gesture to the bar cart. “I’ll just be a moment.” 

Freshen up? You lean against the bathroom door judging yourself. Freshen up. As though you’d been out for a light jog rather than literally shoving your hand through your own father’s chest. Freshen up. Christ. 

You catch your reflection in the mirror and freeze. 

Blood not only covered your arm but had soaked into your shirt, staining your chest, leaving splatters up your neck and on your face. Despite the gore, you looked fresh, skin dewy and bright, your eyes sparkling. It painted an unsettling image.

Even so… you smiled. 

He was dead. That bastard you’d once called Papa. Dead. By your hand.

No matter what followed, no matter what they did to you, your Mother had her justice today. They couldn’t take that away. 

You wash your hands as best you can and wipe some of the blood off your face. Getting rid of the rest would be impossible right now and there was a part of you that didn’t want it gone. Let them see it. 

“Sorry to keep you waiting,” you say exiting the bathroom. 

“No apologies needed. Honestly, I wanted to give you time to process before speaking with you, but the others thought it best we move quickly.”

“I see,” you turn to the bar cart to make a drink. 

“So?” You sigh as you take a seat in the wingback across from where Pierce had settled himself. He sips his drink before speaking. 

“Of course we want to give you time to transition. It will be an abrupt change to your lifestyle, especially for someone so young - but we feel confident that you’ll manage spectacularly. You’ve always-”

“Excuse me, Secretary-”

“Alex, please.”

“Alex,” it felt strange to call this man who you’d known your whole life by his first name. “I’m not sure I follow. I just committed treason and-”

“I’d view it more like taking out the trash.” Your eyebrows shoot up in surprise. Alex looks like he wants to spit, “Your father was... dedicated, to the cause. However, there are some sins that simply can’t be overlooked.” His intense eyes meet yours. 

“We didn’t know for certain until today how far his depravity went. I don’t ask you to forgive us for that, but as a father, I would never have let that…” He shakes his head, taking a deep drink. 

“I’m sorry,” he looks to you confused. “About your daughter. About Jennifer.”

His face softens, “Thank you.” He sneers, “Your father-”

“Eric,” you correct him. 

“Eric,” he nods, seeming to understand. “He said-”

“Let me guess, ‘Blood will out.’” 

“Yes, as though it was a personal failing - her death.” You look away, disgusted. “But you are not him.” Your gaze shoots back to him. 

“Miss-”

“Catherine,” you say smiling. 

“Catherine. You are what we’ve waited so long for. A child of Hydra, fit to lead us into the new age.” Your eyes narrow. “You’ll be taking your - Eric’s seat.” 

You can’t help but be shocked. Taking what should have been Jennifer’s seat had been enough of an upset, to take Eric’s… It would mean-

“It will be an honor to have you serve with me in the first seat.” The first seat, the head of The Council that governed Hydra, was always held as a joint position. “And it will be an even greater honor when you ascend even higher.”

“Higher?” There was no higher seat. 

“In time.” Alex leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees, looking up at you. “While Hydra has many heads it has always been in need of a strong body, one that will not easily bow to the weight of time or illness, one that has transcended so many of our meer human weaknesses. I believe that you were meant to be this body, Catherine.” 

“I… I’m humbled,” you almost choke on the word. It was the right response though, judging by Alex’s smile.

“I will take that as you accepting,” he says it like you have a choice. 

“Of course!” You force joy into your tone. 

“Fantastic!” He stands, raising his glass. You join him. “To a bright future. Hail Hydra!”

“Hail Hydra,” you echo as your glasses clink together. The whiskey tastes like dust on your tongue. 

“As I said, we want to give you some time to transition. However, we will need to move quickly to ensure things continue to run smoothly.”

“I completely understand. I shouldn’t need too much time.” You look around this office, a space you’d spent so much time, a space filled with so many terrible memories. “Mainly, I’ll need to… clean house.”

Alex gives a knowing nod, “Absolutely. You have full power to change and remove,” he holds your gaze for a moment, “whatever and whomever you see fit.” 

“Thank you.” Your eyes settle on the soldier. That sense of conviction from earlier floods you again, the slightest rumblings of a very dangerous idea making their way around your mind. 

“Also,” you stride to the bar cart and refill your drink, making a gesture to do the same for Alex. He accepts. “While I can no doubt protect myself, I will need some additional security to allow me to more fully focus on the needs of the organization. No doubt, there will be those who will see this ascension as overstepping on my part.”

“Unfortunately,” Alex concedes. “You can, of course, have any security detail Eric employed.” He catches your cocked brow, “Ah, yes. Well, you can have your choice of Hydra for your own detail.”

“I had a thought actually,” you take a sip before continuing. “I’d like The Soldier.” Alex looks from you to The Soldier, still standing in the same place he was when Alex had entered.

“The Soldier…” He says thoughtfully. 

“Yes. I’d prefer to not have to doubt the integrity of my security detail, especially given the unique situation I’m finding myself in. Typically someone in this position would have had years to form their inner circle - I haven’t had such a luxury.” 

“Of course,” you add, “he’d still be at the full disposal of Hydra should he be needed.”

Alex nods, “I see no problem with it. He’s housed under European jurisdiction as it is and you clearly have a steady command of him - no small feat I’ll have you know.”

“Lovely.” 

“Any other immediate needs to make this an easier transition?” Alex asks sincerely. 

“Just one,” you walk back to the chairs and sit. “The woman Eric was going to have killed. What was her crime?” Alex shifted, seeming a bit uncomfortable.

“She was a Brown Widow,” he began. 

“A what?” You’d never heard of such a thing. 

He purses his lips, “Of course, Eric wouldn’t tell you about the Brown Widows.” He sighs, “The Brown Widow program is a sister to the Black Widow program. Brown Widows are trained in much the same way, in fact, they begin in the Black Widow program before being hand-selected to be Brown Widows. They’re chosen for having a more… genteel temperament if you will. More suited to domesticity than your typical Black Widow graduate.” 

A memory tingles in the back of your mind, just out of reach. 

“Your mother was a Brown Widow.”

You wanted to marry a spider, your mother had spoken those words when she’d garroted Eric the night she died. 

“Her death was not sanctioned, Catherine. I tried to push for an investigation-”

You shake your head, “It’s in the past.” 

“She was a spectacular woman. Eric always had to have the best-”

“So the woman?” You don’t want to think about your mother anymore. Can’t bear the weight of knowing that she could have killed Eric at any time, could have run, but she didn’t… Because of you. 

“Yes,” he clears his throat, “the woman from this evening, was a Brown Widow. She’d been assigned to a lower level associate. He was apparently… unpleasant.” You note that Alex won’t meet your eyes and suspect you know what kind of unpleasantness he means. “She may have removed a specific part of his anatomy in retaliation before fleeing.” You bite your lip to restrain a smile. 

“Is she dead?”

“Not at all. We agreed with your decision. Some punishment should likely be metered but not what Eric had in mind.”

“I’d like to have her as my personal assistant.” 

“Oh?” 

“What better way to foster loyalty than saving someone’s life?”

Alex smiled, “Wise. I’ll have her sent up.”

“Thank you. I feel that puts me in a good position to get moving quickly.”

“I couldn’t agree more,” Alex says finishing his drink and standing. He sets his glass on the side table and extends his hand once more. 

“This couldn’t have been a better outcome, in my opinion, Catherine. You’re going to do incredible things. This is only the beginning.”

You take his hand, giving it a firm shake. “I couldn’t agree more, Alex. Thank you for the opportunity.” 

“We will connect soon.” 

“I look forward to it,” you open the door to let him out. 

As soon as he is on the elevator you call out to Eric’s former secretary. “Anita, can you join me?” You don’t wait for an answer, instead, you turn back into the office to refill your drink and wait. 

She enters a minute later, nervous energy rolling off of her. Her eyes grow wider by the second as she takes in your blood-soaked form leaning casually against Eric’s desk. 

“Slackjawed isn’t a good look for you, Anita.” She snaps her jaw shut. 

“W-What can I do for you Miss Cathe-”

“Madam Clayton will do.” Her eyes somehow manage to get wider, making her look like one of those popeyed pugs she doted on. “Will this arrangement be a problem for you?” The vile woman had served your father longer than you’d been alive.

“No, Madam Clayton, of course not.” 

“Good. I need a change of clothes. One for The Soldier as well, and clothing for the woman being sent up - she should be about a size eight.” 

“Yes, Maam.” She turns, her wiry frame trembling. 

“Oh. One more thing, Anita.” She freezes, no doubt expecting something awful. “I want every bit of information on The Soldier. I’ll need all of this within the hour.” Nervously she eyes the statue-like man, you can hear her heartbeat rise. 

“But, Madame Catherine… I… I don’t.”

“Anita?”

“Y-yes?” You hold her bulging eyes, staring her down until you knew she was about to break. 

“My father wouldn’t tolerate excuses. Neither will I. Is that clear?” 

“Of course,” she squeaks. “Yes, Maam.” With one last glance at The Soldier, she scurries from the room. 

Rounding the desk you finish the rest of the entirely, and annoyingly, ineffective whiskey before plopping down hard in the desk chair. Looking across the room you see that The Soldier had recrossed his arms, eyes studying you with unnerving intensity. 

A lifetime of violence had taught you how to scent it. Right now, it was beginning to crackle in the air. 

He moved so quickly you almost missed it. Almost. 

Your hand moves under the desk, gripping the Glock you knew would be waiting. As he went to vault the desk you push the chair back, rolling you toward the window and aim right between his eyes. He freezes, crouched on the desk, murder in his eyes. 

“I am not your enemy,” you say softly, remaining seated. 

“Hail Hydra,” he sneers. His hatred feels like a slap. 

You release the gun, letting it dangle on your finger, from the trigger before you stand slowly, hands up, and place it on the desk before him. Leaning in so close you can feel his breath you return his hard stare. 

“Fuck. Hydra,” you growl. 

Never had you been grateful that this room was off the grid, Pierce had confirmed that earlier. Had they eyes or ears here they’d have known the things Eric had done to you. Even so… you didn’t dare say anything more. 

It must have been enough because his mood shifts back to a skeptical neutral. Slowly he backs up, standing on the other side of the desk. Neither of you speak, you just stare, assessing if you were friend or foe until a buzz sounds from the phone on the desk. 

“Yes?” You ask pressing the intercom button. 

“I h-have the clothing you requested. The woman should be up soon.”

“And the information on The Soldier?”

“I’m getting it to-together now.” That tremulous little stammer was beginning to grate your nerves. 

“Bring the clothes.” 

One bag contained three pairs of black boots, practical though none of you would leave here in them. The other revealed three sets of black hoodies, caps, tees, and bluejeans. They’d do. 

“Here,” you hold out the pile of clothes to him. He eyes them. “Look, even if you weren’t covered in blood you can’t go out on the street looking like Edward fucking Scissorhands.” Did they have a point in dressing the man like he was on his way to a cheap dungeon?

Finally, he takes them. 

“You can use the bathroom,” you turn to pull your own clothes out. “Oh, and be sure to check them for-” He nods, turning for the bathroom. Clothing could easily conceal trackers and bugs - it was why the boots would remain here unused. 

You meticulously check the clothes provided for you and the woman, pleased to find nothing suspicious. In the small closet where Eric kept a few changes of clothes, you find the trainers you were hoping for. They’d be far too large for either you or the woman but at least you knew they’d be clean. 

Just as you pull the plain black tee over your head The Soldier walks out. His own tee stretches tight across his chest, the metal arm somehow seeming more alarming when paired with the plain clothes. Still, no one could deny that the man was a specimen. 

Drawing your eyes away you pluck the card of hair elastics from the bag, handing one to him. “If you wanted to pull your hair back.” He takes it, his eyes landing on your throat. 

“You still have,” he gestures to his own neck.

“Oh, right. If they come with the woman would you mind letting them in?” He says nothing. With a sigh, you duck into the bathroom to remove the lingering traces of blood. 

You hear the door to the office open followed by a muffled cry of alarm. When you pop your head out of the bathroom the woman stands, still nude, in fighting form. Much more firey than when she was in the cell.

“Don’t fucking come near me,” she growls in an American accent. The Soldier stands several feet away, hands tucked into the pocket of his jeans, hair up in a low ponytail. 

“He isn’t going to harm you,” you say stepping out. Though, you didn’t entirely know if that was true. He’d been ready to eviscerate you not a half-hour ago. The woman throws you a wild glare. 

“I’m Catherine Clayton,” you grab the hoodie intended for The Soldier from the pile and toss it to her. Christ, they couldn’t even be bothered to give the woman a towel to cover herself with. It’s just long enough to cover her.

“I know what you are,” she spits. What. Not who. 

“I highly doubt that.” The woman didn’t know the half of it. “Drink?” You ask nodding to the bar cart. 

“So now I’m invited to drinks?” You can’t help but smile. 

“In defense of my rudeness earlier, I truly thought I’d be dead or worse by now. Seeing as that’s not the case,” you shrug. 

“Whiskey,” the woman says, stepping closer but still keeping a wary eye on The Soldier. 

You pour her a glass and look to The Soldier, “And you?” He simply glares and turns to resume a vigil by the door. 

Surprisingly she sniffs the glass only once and downs it all in one go before you take a drink. You raise a brow and reach for the glass to refill it. 

She shrugs, “If I’m going to go out there are worse ways than poisoned whiskey.”

“I’ll drink to that.” You gesture for her to have a seat. She eyes eye chair and simply leans against it, you don’t miss the slight spark of defiance in her chestnut eyes. 

Rather than sit in a chair yourself you hop onto the desktop, facing her, and wait for her to ask the question. 

“What do you want from me?”

“I’d like to offer you a job.” She looks at you disbelieving. 

“A job.” You nod. “I’m not sure if you’ve seen my resume lately, but I didn’t exactly leave my last position on amicable terms.”

“I’m well aware. In fact, it’s what made you a prime candidate for the position.” She studies you as you continue. “I’m not looking for someone loyal to the cause. I need someone loyal to me.” You can see the flames of curiosity begin to rise. 

“And what does loyalty to you look like?” She asks before taking a sip of her whiskey. 

“Details will come in time. But, from what I hear of you, I feel our intentions may align nicely.”

Finally, she pushes away from the chair and steps closer, “Fuck it. I’m in.” You hadn’t expected it to be so easy. Your skepticism must show. 

“Look, I’d rather answer to a woman than another mouth breathing wanna be Mussolini. And,” her stare intensifies, “anyone with the spine to put down that monster like you did today is pretty good in my book.” 

She extends her right hand. Smiling you hop off the desk and take it. 

“I’m Mara.”

“Pleasure.”

“So,” you release your shake and she finishes her drink, “what do ya need from me boss?” 

“On paper, you’ll be my personal assistant.”

“And off the books?” 

“We’ll get to that.” You nod to the clothes, “For now go ahead and get changed. That hoodie is his.” Tension visibly rolls over her. 

Without another word, she grabs the clothes and disappears into the bathroom. A moment later the intercom buzzes. You press the button but say nothing. 

 “Ma-Madam Clayton, I have the f-files on The Soldier you requested.”

“Good. Before you bring them, how much cash do we have on hand?”

“Oh, I can provide you with the ca-”

“I asked a clear question, Anita.” You’d all need a place to stay until you could get your private finances sorted. With Eric gone it should be easier to do so, especially since you’d spent the last three years building a stockpile even Hydra couldn’t trace. Still, for the next few nights you all needed a safe - or at least safe enough - place and using a card would let Hydra know exactly where you were. 

“Yes, so-sorry Madam. We have over one hundred thousand-”

“Bring me forty of it along with the files.” You shut the intercom off and wait for the tentative knock. 

It comes as Mara steps out of the bathroom. She eyes The Soldier as he opens the door and warily drapes his hoodie over the wingback before standing beside you. 

Anita, carrying two banker boxes stacked beneath her chin stumbles in. The Soldier catches her by the shoulder before she topples, causing her to freeze until she catches sight of Mara. Her expression shifts from shock to indignation. 

She pulls away from The Soldier’s grip, blustering to the small table sitting between the wingback chairs. Straightening her dowdy blouse she plucks a thick envelope from the top. 

“The files and money, Madam Catherine.” She shoots Mara a filthy glare. Mara responds with a fox-like grin that further flusters the older woman. 

“Madam,” she clips out in a nasal tone as you pull the money out. 

“That will be all, Anita,” you don’t even look up at her as you ensure the bills are all there and authentic. 

“Madam,” she says again. Slowly you raise your eyes to meet her pathetic attempt at a confident glare. “This-this, woman,” she spits. “She’s to be disposed of! Your father wanted-” The rest of her words are lost in a garbled scream, your grip on her throat trapping the sound. 

For a split second, you’re a bit disoriented by the speed at which you moved, so much so that you almost squeeze too tight. With effort, you relax your grip. This was not her time to die. 

“Anita,” you purr, “who’s blood do you suppose that was earlier?”

“Mr-Mr. Clayton,” she manages to eke out. 

“That’s right!” You say in a tone one may take with a child. “And knowing that, do you suppose I give one holy fuck about anything that beast wanted?” You stare into her bulging eyes, watch her pasty skin burn red with fear and shame - both tasted so sweet. How many times had she turned a blind eye… 

She shakes her head. 

“Good,” you toss her to the ground. She rolls onto all fours, gasping for air as she crawls away to put distance between you. 

“Oh, and Anita,” her whole body goes rigid. “If you ever bring him up again, I’ll do things to you that would make the Devil himself cringe. Do we have an understanding?”

She nods. 

“Excellent. That is all, Anita.” She manages to rise to her feet, though her body remained deeply bowed as she scuttled out the door. 

You could feel the eyes of the others on you. 

“Does anyone here have a problem with how that was handled?” You ask. The Soldier simply looks at you with narrow eyes. 

“Not me.” Mara hops onto the desk. One out of two was good enough. 

“Here,” you tuck a wad of bills into your pocket and hand her the envelope. “That’s thirty thousand pounds. It should be more than enough to get us ensconced in a good hotel. I’d prefer a penthouse, two bedrooms, with clear sightlines to the roofs of the surrounding buildings. But mainly something as private as possible.” She nods. “Book a room for yourself as well.” 

You cross to one of the bookshelves, giving the bottom a swift kick. The old mechanism groaned as it slid open to reveal a small closet filled with an arsenal. 

“Help yourselves.” 

“Nice,” Mara comments with sparkling eyes. The Soldier doesn’t make a move. 

“There’s another elevator in there,” you tell her. “It will take you to the street.” 

“Where should we rendezvous?”

“French House,” it would be easy enough for you and The Soldier to disappear into the ever-crowded pub. 

“Got it,” she slips a gun into her waistband. “Shoes?” 

“Oh!” You kick off your blood-spattered black trainers. “Take these. I found another clean pair.” 

“See you soon!” Mara tosses over her shoulder as the elevator closes. 

Within two hours you’re walking into the Dome penthouse over The Hotel Cafe Royal. The terrace overlooked the London skyline and provided an easy escape should it be necessary. 

“I have to admit, Mara. I’m impressed.”

“Don’t be,” she kicks off your old trainers, slipping into a new pair. “Money talks, so it wasn’t exactly difficult.” You look out one of the curved windows to the terrace. 

“What now?” She asks from behind you. 

“Now,” you sigh, “rest.”

“Seriously?”

“Yeah. Order food to your room, have a soak, get drunk. Whatever you need.” You don’t mistake the relief that floods her face. “I’ll ring you tomorrow,” you hold up the burner phone that matched her own. 

“Ok,” she sighs. 

“Thank you, Mara.”

“For what?”

“For trusting me this far.” 

“Don’t make me regret it,” she says with a wink. The Soldier reenters the living room and she studies him. “Be careful.”

You nod, “Goodnight.” With that, she leaves. 

“I’m taking a bath,” you say to him. “I assume you chose your room?” His brows knit, a bit confused. 

“There are two additional bedrooms, what did you think I was going to have you do? Stand at attention all night?” His cold glare is enough of an answer. “Pick a room. Order food. Do whatever you want.” You turn on your heel and stalk toward the bathroom. 

You sink under the scalding water, hoping it will help clear your mind, allow the fragments of a plan that had been ricocheting around in your skull become something solid and tangible. Instead... it reminds you of the hot slick feeling of Eric’s blood. 

Gasping for air, you fling yourself from the tub, sending the small table of neatly stacked towels flying into the wall. With no small effort, you force your eyes open, half expecting to see your whole body coated in the thick red substance. 

There’s nothing. Of course, there was nothing. Nothing besides The Soldier, standing in the entrance, concern coloring his features. 

“I’m fine,” you huff, cheeks burning a bit from embarrassment. “A little privacy?” He seems to flush a bit himself and heads wordlessly from the room. 

A shower was clearly the best option. 

You wrap yourself in a plush robe before stepping from the bathroom, expecting to see the soldier in the living room. But he wasn’t there. 

No matter. You head onto the terrace, taking in the spectacular view and relishing the cold night air on your damp skin. 

Now clarity comes. 

You hear the rustle of someone behind you, the slightest hum of gears indicating that it was The Soldier. 

“I’m going to burn it all down.” The words feel electric on your tongue. “All of Hydra.”

Your mother was wrong. You were not more than this, more than them.

She was also wrong about evil. Sometimes the only thing strong enough to defeat it was an equal… 

Your father had made you such an equal. Honed you into a weapon, something as dark and deadly as Hydra itself. Being bred in the belly of that beast you knew its anatomy, its every weak spot, every flaw. 

They wanted to make you the body. Instead, you’d be a cancer, consuming the beast from the inside out. 

You turn to him, “Is that going to be a problem for you?”

His intense eyes seem to sparkle and a slight smile curls his lips. 

“Not at all.”

Relief surges through your body. You knew what you wanted to accomplish was an olympian task and without the strength and fear The Soldier afforded you - well it would have become a near-impossible one. 

A knock draws both your attention. 

“I ordered food,” he says beginning to turn away. “For both of us.” 

The gesture catches you so off guard that it renders you immobile for a moment. When you finally make it inside he’s moving the boxes filled with information on him to the ground to clear the table for food. 

“I wasn’t sure what you’d like, so I ordered several things.” The cart was stacked to bursting and the smells rising from it made your mouth water. But there on the bottom, a familiar package catches your eye. 

Chocolate digestive biscuits. The same kind you shared with him on that night so long ago. Silently you bend to retrieve them, looking from the biscuits to him a couple of times before speaking. 

“You do remember.” He nods. Confusion roils, “Then why did you charge me earlier if-”

“People change.” He pulls the cover off of a trey revealing a cheeseburger and fries and moves it to the table. You think he’ll say more but, instead, he starts eating. The growling of your stomach convinces you to not press the subject and instead locate the curry you can scent hiding under one of those covered trays. 

Honestly, you’d never felt this hungry. You tear through the red curry and move on to another tray, this one housing a second burger and fries. It’s not until you’re done with that and are nibbling on a poor excuse for pizza that you actually slow. 

“I guess I was hungrier than I thought.”

He smiles a bit, taking a slice of the pizza, “I think it’s the serum. I’m always hungry.”

You study him for a moment, “Any other insights on that front?” 

He shrugs, “Things can be overwhelming,” he clears his throat, “sensations. Even your own body can seem too loud. You feel… more. Everything’s dialed up so you may be stronger, harder to kill, but it doesn’t mean shit hurts less.” That was actually very good information. “I’m sure there’s plenty of information in those boxes.” You don’t miss the bitter edge in his voice. 

Silence hangs thick for a bit until he asks, “Did you choose this?” 

“Choose what?” You meet his intense gaze. 

“The serum. Did you let them do this to you?”

“Do you think my bastard father would have let me choose something like this?” You scoff. Anger flares in your chest, “No.” You push away from the table and begin to pace. 

“I was simply informed that whatever life I thought I could build for myself was over. That I had to, yet again, prove myself worthy of something I never wanted and never asked for. That I had better not, disappoint.” You feel your body start to shake, “Because even my death, death at their hands, would have been a disgrace.” 

“I got milk too,” he says behind you. 

“What?” The statement seemed absurd until you turned to see him pouring two glasses, the biscuits on the table. Somehow the sight tamps down the flame of your rage. 

“Oh,” you collapse on the couch, hiding your face in your hands. Maybe emotions, like sensations, were dialed up because you couldn’t seem to get a hold of yours.

“I’m sorry,” his voice comes from closer than you expect. Looking up you see him kneeling before you, worry etched across his face, a lock of hair falling from his ponytail. 

“I didn’t… I should have…” He seems to struggle to find the words suddenly. “I don’t have space to speak freely… ever. And I-”

“You’re free. Or as free as I can make you.” You couldn’t truly grant him freedom that you yourself didn’t possess, but you hoped it was something. The emotion that shows in his eyes is beyond words but it makes your chest constrict all the same. 

“Thank you,” his voice cracks a bit at the end and he quickly stands. 

For the next hour, you both burn through the biscuits in comfortable silence. Once they’re gone you slump back into the deep cushions of the couch, exhaustion crashing over you. 

“I could sleep for three days.” You wished. Sleep and you had a tense relationship at best. 

“You should rest.” He says. 

Sighing you nod and stand, turning toward the master suite attached to the living room. 

“Actually,” he begins. You look back. 

“Yes?”

“You should probably take one of the back rooms. Less direct access from the terrace.” He had a point, there were no actual doors to the master bed or bathroom, just an open space cut up with walls that didn’t quite reach the high ceiling and the terrace wrapped around almost the entire suite. 

“I’ll take whichever. Lead the way.” You hadn’t really inspected the other rooms. 

He guides you to the one furthest from the entry assuring you that he’ll hear anyone who comes. 

“You’ll be safe,” he says, reminding you of the vigil he kept for you years ago - protecting you from the monster in your own home. You nod, in acceptance and open the door. 

“One thing,” you turn to him. “What you did back there, to Eric. Was that because I-“

“I did it for both of us.” You don’t think you imagine the slight spark of satisfaction in his expression. 

“Goodnight, Catherine.”

“Goodnight.” You realize suddenly that you don’t know his name, he never offered it, and knowing what little you did about him you wondered if he even knew… 

That would be the first thing you’d find in those files tomorrow. You couldn’t give him true freedom, not yet, but you could damn well give him his name back.

---

TAGS: @mywinterwolf​  @disagreetoagree​  @breezy1415​  @peachthatdrinkslemonade​  @wonderlandmind4​  @stevehesaidabadlanguageword​  @buckysstar​  @for-the-love-of-the-fandom​  @siriuslycloudy2​  @wildmoonflower​  @cutie1365​  @this-kitten-is-smitten​  @nighttwingg​  @handplucked​  @jewelofwinter​  @whiskeywinter89​ @damnaged-princess​ @the7intheimpala​ @saaamsayshi​ @7minutes-tomidnight​ @amorluzymelodia​ @auroraluna777​ @leniaana​  @awkwardlyhot @ilovespideyyy​ @jaxthebookworm​ @docharleythegeekqueen​ @olympos-92​ 

NOTE: Why does The Soldier remember her? Given what we know about him I feel like that may be one of the biggest (most frustrating) questions at the end of this so I just want to share that you’ll get the answer in the next chapter. 

[dreaminginthedeepsouth]

LETTERS FROM AN AMERICAN

July 21, 2021

Heather Cox Richardson

The story that grabbed headlines today was that House Speaker Nancy Pelosi (D-CA) rejected two of the five people House Minority Leader Kevin McCarthy (R-CA) chose to put on the House select committee to investigate the January 6 insurrection. McCarthy immediately withdrew all of the five people he had appointed, accusing the Speaker of partisanship.

But let’s call this like it is. The Republicans killed a bill to create a bipartisan select committee to investigate the insurrection. Then, when Pelosi set up a select committee instead on the exact same terms that Republicans had used to set up one of their many Benghazi committees, McCarthy tried to sabotage the process by naming as three of his five picks men who bought into former president Trump’s Big Lie and challenged the votes on the night of January 6.

One of those men, Jim Jordan (R-OH), is known for disrupting hearings; another, Jim Banks (R-IN), after being selected to sit on the committee, said that Pelosi “created this committee solely to malign conservatives and to justify the Left’s authoritarian agenda.” Banks has repeatedly tried to blame Pelosi for the response of the Capitol Police on January 6, when, in fact, it is overseen by a three-person Capitol Police Board. It is likely that McCarthy chose Jordan precisely to push Pelosi into rejecting him: McCarthy did not make Jordan the ranking member on the committee despite his seniority.

Pelosi refused to accept Jordan and Banks but did accept Troy Nehls (R-TX), who also voted to challenge the results of the 2020 election. Nonetheless, McCarthy made a show of pulling all his appointees from the committee, saying “this panel has lost all legitimacy and credibility and shows the Speaker is more interested in playing politics than seeking the truth.”

But, of course, one of Pelosi’s own picks is Republican Liz Cheney (R-WY), who voted with Trump 92.9% of the time, but who recognizes the insurrection as one of the most dangerous threats to our democracy in our history. She responded today to McCarthy, her party’s leader, supporting Pelosi’s decision and telling reporters that the Speaker had “objected to two members and the rhetoric around this from the minority leader and from those two members has been disgraceful. This must be an investigation that is focused on facts, and the idea that any of this has become politicized is really unworthy of the office that we all hold and unworthy of our republic.”

Cheney said she is "absolutely confident that we will have a nonpartisan investigation."

On January 13, of course, McCarthy said: “The president bears responsibility for Wednesday’s attack on Congress by mob rioters. He should have immediately denounced the mob when he saw what was unfolding. These facts require immediate action by [Trump] to accept his share of responsibility.” Now, six months later, Republicans have lined up behind the former president and are seeking to sabotage the investigation into the January 6 insurrection, clearly unhappy about what that investigation will reveal.

In the Senate, a vote to advance the $579 billion bipartisan infrastructure bill failed today, but 11 Republicans eager to make the deal work delivered a letter to Senate Majority Leader Chuck Schumer (D-NY) indicating their intention to vote for such a bill once it is hammered out. Schumer has promised to bring the procedural process up again if it has the votes to pass. If Republicans refuse to join the measure, Democrats can simply fold it into the larger bill they’re hoping to pass through reconciliation without the Republican votes necessary to break a filibuster.

McConnell has taken a stand against the Democrats’ infrastructure plans. In a speech on July 6, he focused on the larger package, saying: “The era of bipartisanship on this stuff is over....This is not going to be done on a bipartisan basis. This is going to be a hell of a fight over what this country ought to look like in the future and it's going to unfold here in the next few weeks. I don't think we've had a bigger difference of opinion between the two parties.” But many Republicans recognize that the infrastructure package is popular, and they would like to have their names on it rather than giving another win to the Democrats. Schumer has given them more time but has made it clear he will not let them run out the clock.

Meanwhile, Senate Minority Leader Mitch McConnell (R-KY) told reporters today that no Republican senators will vote to raise the nation’s debt ceiling when a deal cut two years ago to suspend the ceiling ends on July 31. McConnell wants to see spending cuts to bring down the deficit. (It is worth noting that the Republicans just demanded that funding to beef up the IRS to catch tax cheaters be stripped from the new infrastructure bill, although the commissioner of the IRS, Charles Rettig, estimates we lose $1 trillion a year in unpaid taxes.)

During the Trump administration, Congress voted at least three times to raise the debt ceiling. Under Trump, the nation added $7.8 trillion to the national debt, about $23,500 for every person in the country. The bulk of this debt came before the coronavirus pandemic. Trump’s 2017 tax cuts, which chopped the federal tax rate from 35% to 21%, hurt revenues at the same time that administration spending increased dramatically. And then the pandemic hit.

Under Trump, the deficit rose 5.2%. The only presidents to raise it faster in their terms were George W. Bush, under whom the deficit rose 11.7% as he cut taxes and started two wars, and Abraham Lincoln, under whom it rose 9.4% as he paid for the Civil War.

The Democrats are treating McConnell’s threat to shut down the government as political posturing. White House Press Secretary Jen Psaki said: “We expect Congress to act in a timely manner to raise or suspend the debt ceiling, as they did three times on a broad bipartisan basis during the last administration,” and Senator Brian Schatz (D-HI) tweeted: “We are not going to have a ‘big fight’ over the debt ceiling. We are just going to handle our business like grownups.” Senator Chris Murphy (D-CT) added: “We don't bargain over the debt ceiling. We just do our jobs. And if you choose not to do your job, then you answer for the consequences.”

The takeaway from today is that McConnell and McCarthy seem to have lost control of their caucus, while the Republicans’ posturing is increasingly out of step with the national mood. Pelosi called McCarthy’s bluff, Schumer warned his Republican colleagues that he will not let them sabotage Democratic priorities by running out the clock, and Democratic lawmakers are taking advantage of the erratic behavior of Republican lawmakers to suggest that they, the Democrats, are currently the only adults in the room.

—-

Notes:

https://www.politico.com/newsletters/playbook/2021/07/20/rip-bif-493649

Acyn @AcynCheney: She’s objected to two members and the rhetoric around this from the minority leader and from those two members has been disgraceful 3,579 Retweets16,325 Likes

July 21st 2021

https://www.washingtonpost.com/opinions/2021/05/07/cheney-was-more-loyal-trumps-agenda-than-stefanik-trump-only-cares-about-loyalty-him/

George Conway @gtconway3d... to their dishonesty.  The top House Republican, Kevin McCarthy, had chosen Representatives Jim Banks and Jim Jordan among his five picks for the Jan. 6. panel. Both voted against counting electoral votes for Joe Biden hours after rioters ransacked the Capitol. https://t.co/htlCfKKa3c256 Retweets1,147 Likes

The New York Times @nytimes

July 21st 2021

https://www.cnn.com/2021/07/21/politics/january-6-committee-jim-banks/index.html

https://www.politico.com/news/2021/07/21/congress-bipartisan-infrastructure-deal-500408

https://www.washingtonpost.com/opinions/2021/07/20/democrats-may-soon-wage-ultimate-kitchen-table-campaign/

https://thehill.com/homenews/senate/561720-mcconnell-vows-hell-of-a-fight-over-biden-infrastructure-plan

https://www.nytimes.com/2021/04/13/business/irs-tax-gap.html

https://www.propublica.org/article/national-debt-trump

https://www.washingtonpost.com/us-policy/2021/07/21/republicans-debt-ceiling/

LETTERS FROM AN AMERICAN

HEATHER COX RICHARDSON

[smegdwarf]

But Who Could Love Me? (Rimmer x Reader) - Chapter 15 (1/2)

Warnings: All fluff!

Summary: Basically giving Rimmer the love he deserves.

It was finally exam time and Rimmer was bouncing on his feet faster than Tigger on drugs.

“Oh I can’t do this” Rimmer grumbled as he paced up and down nervously.

“Why did you agree to it then?” You smiled as he came to a stop.

“You were kissing me!” Rimmer rambled “Do honestly expect me to process anything being said to me when we’re kissing?”

“Yeah I guess not” You giggled as Rimmer continued pacing again.

“Why did you suggest this?” Rimmer mumbled “I’m gonna fail, I know I am”

“Arnie, stop pacing!” You kept your voice calm as he came to a stop in front of you “Once you get over this hurdle of anxiety you’ll smash it”

“How?” Rimmer looked terrified, he’d done the exam so many times and failed, he had next to no hope left in himself.

“You’ll be fine, take a few deep breaths and just focus on answering the questions, don’t worry about anyone else. The boys don’t know you’re taking it again and I won’t love you any less, ok?” You managed to gently move his arms from across his chest as he took a deep exhale “Darling you can do this!”

“Arnold it’s time for your exam” Holly reminded him as the door to the exam room opened.

“Oh god, wish me luck” Rimmer looked at the room.

“Arnie you don’t need luck, you’ll be fine” You stood on your tiptoes to kiss him on the cheek “Go get ‘em!”

Rimmer gave you a worried smile before walking into the exam room, you waited until the doors were fully closed before leaving. Making your way down to the hanger to meet Kryten and Lister in Blue Midget.

“Ayeee there she is!” Lister exclaimed.

“Sorry boys had to take care of something” You smiled as you joined them at the dashboard.

“No problem ma’am” Kryten smiled.

“Shall we get this baby going then?” Lister grinned as he and Kryten started the start up procedure.

“How long will this take?” You asked curiously, wanting to make sure you were back before Rimmer finished the exam.

“About an hour or so” Lister replied “No boyfriend?”

“He’s busy” You replied bluntly.

“Busy? Doing what?” You could tell he was still grinning.

“Just busy ok” You were far more concerned about how well Rimmer was doing, hoping he hadn’t just walked in the exam room and fainted or was just writing ‘I’m a fish’ over and over.

“Alright sorry I said anythin’” Lister turned to look at Kryten.

“Look can we just focus on getting to this planetoid?”

“Erm yes ma’am” You could tell Krytens panic mode was kicking in.

Luckily you and the boys really weren’t too far from the planetoid so as long as you could get the other two to move quickly you could be back in time to meet Rimmer.

“Mr Lister, sir, this planetoid doesn’t have a breathable atmosphere” Kryten turned to Lister.

“Well I guess I’m staying here then?” Lister replied sarcastically.

“Come on Krytes, let’s get this over with” You sighed, with you and Kryten not needing oxygen you decided to go and explore.

Hopping off Blue Midget you were greeted with a barren wasteland. Some kind of sand covered the surface for miles.

“Well this is a bust?” You grumbled.

“See anything?” Listers voice bellowed through the speaker in your watch.

“Nope!” You replied, putting extra emphasis on the n and the p.

“Suggest we walk around ma’am” Kryten suggested as you started walking.

“There’s nothing here Krytes?” You really weren’t in the mood.

The two of you had walked for what felt like almost 5 miles and still there was nothing.

“Krytes can we call it?” You groaned.

“Wait!” Kryten stopped, looking at the scanner.

“Kryten there is nothing here!” You almost shouted, your temper threatening to bubble over.

“But ma’am, the scanner?” Kryten replied.

“The scanners are over 3 million years old” You sighed.

“It says there’s a life sign?” You took the scanner from Kryten's rubber hand.

“That life sign...” You grumbled as you gave the scanner a good whack “Is Lister in Blue Midget!”

“Ah” Kryten replied sheepishly.

“Remind me later and I’ll see what I can do to update them, can we go now?”

“Erm of course and yes ma’am” Kryten looked at you a little embarrassed.

As you trudged back to Blue Midget, it was getting more and more likely that you were not going to make it back in time.

“So it was completely empty then?” Lister asked.

“Can’t this thing go any faster?” You groaned impatiently.

“We’re going as fast as we can man” Lister replied, a little taken back by your attitude.

“This is Blue Midgets top speed ma’am” Kryten chimed in as you took yourself off to the storage room.

As soon as Blue Midget hit the floor of the landing bay you were out the door in a heartbeat, pelting along the corridors and cursing the lifts for not going fast enough.

“My god I really am turning into Arnold” You chuckled to yourself as the lift reached your floor before pelting down one last corridor.

“There you are!” Rimmer gave you a tense smile while you were doubled over trying to catch your breath, some of your pixels flickering from running so fast.

“Sorry I’m late” You tried to take a deep breath “Lister and Krytes wanted me to go check out a planetoid with them”

“It’s alright, it was only a couple of minutes” Rimmer replied.

“How did it go?” You asked as he shrugged.

“Can we talk about something else while we wait for the results?” Rimmer asked as you took a seat on the floor with your back against the wall.

“I really need to exercise more” You laughed through deep breaths as Rimmer sat down beside you.

“Or you could just walk along the corridors like a normal person?” Rimmer smiled, placing his hand on your thigh.

“You should know by now that I’m not normal” You tilted your head back against the wall as you looked at him.

“It’s what I like most about you” Rimmer chuckled “That and...”

“Yes alright” You laughed as you stopped him “How long does this usually take?”

“A few minutes ...the longest few minutes of your existence” Rimmer continued to make jokes to distract himself from the overwhelming anxiety that was threatening to surface.

“Wake me up when they’re ready” You smiled as you let your head rest on his shoulder.

“Oi don’t fall asleep on me” Rimmer teased as he gently nudged you in the side before resting his head against yours.

“I’ll try not too” You giggled as you put your arm underneath his as your fingers entwined.

“Did you have fun with the others today?” Rimmer tried to keep the conversation going.

“Not really” You sighed.

“Really why?” Rimmer looked at you a little sad.

“Well the planetoid was empty for one, just miles and miles of sand” You replied “and I was too worried about you in that exam”

“Hey you don’t need to worry about me?” Rimmer smiled as you raised your eyebrow at him “You know what I mean”

“I just want you to be happy that’s all” You gently caressed the back of his hand with your thumb.

“I am happy, I’ve got you haven’t I?” Rimmer spoke softly as the machine in the wall in front you started making noises before chucking out an envelope “Here we go!”

Rimmer stood up first, offering you his hands to help you up and gesturing for you to take the envelope.

“Sure you want me to open it?” You asked, the envelope shaking a little in your hand.

“Positive” Rimmer took a deep breath out “Oh god”

“Remember...” You smiled opening it “No matter what this says I still love you”

“Just tell me” Rimmer was starting to get impatient, clear in his mind that he had failed “I’ve failed haven’t I? Why do I keep doing this to myself? I know I’m never going to pass the damn thing so what’s the point? ...what?”

A small smile started to spread across your face as Rimmer looked at you confused.

“So... when should I start calling you officer?” You grinned as his mouth dropped open.

“Are you...” Rimmer was completely speechless “You’re messing with me right?”

“Darling you did it, you passed the exam!” You tried to get a reaction out of him.

“Can I see it?” He asked for the paper, taking it from your hand and pausing to look at it “I ...I actually passed?”

“I told you you’d smash it!” You smiled sweetly as a grin slowly took over Rimmer’s face as he lifted you off your feet and span you round “Congratulations officer!”

“I can’t believe I actually passed it” Rimmer grinned as he put you down, his eyes meeting yours “and I couldn’t have done it without you”

“Hey this is your accomplishment” You spoke softly “Want to go tell the others?”

“They’ll just find a way to ruin it” Rimmer sighed.

“Not if they want an ass kicking from me!” You laughed as Rimmer smiled “Come on let’s go!”

You tugged his hand but he didn’t move as he pulled you back towards him.

“Wait” Rimmer held your hands in his as he leant into kiss you, resting his forehead against yours “Thank you!”

“You don’t need to thank me” You replied.

“But I want too, I couldn’t have passed that exam without your help and support” Rimmer spoke softly, his hands moving to your waist as he pulled you in for one last kiss.

“You’re welcome, officer!” You smiled, it was going to take some time for both of you to get used to Rimmer’s new rank.

“Let’s go tell the others” Rimmer replied, taking your hand in his as you started walking.

Thankfully the others were all in Rimmer and Listers sleeping quarters when you walked in.

“Oh you alright Y/N, Rimmer?” Lister mumbled not taking his eyes away from the tv screen.

“That’s Officer Rimmer to you Listy!” Rimmer smirked as you gave his hand a squeeze.

“Oh get out of town Rimmer” Lister shot him down.

“He’s bluffin’” Cat grumbled.

“You didn’t take the exam again did you sir?” Kryten looked worried.

“I knew this would happen, they don’t believe me?” Rimmer looked at you for help.

“Right smegheads, at the table!” You commanded as the other three dropped what they were doing and immediately scurried to the table, earning a slight chuckle from Rimmer beside you.

“How are you going to get us to believe he passed the exam?” Cat furrowed his brows as you gave Rimmer a nod as he stepped forward to place the exam results on the table “No way!”

“He did it? He smegging did it!” Lister exclaimed.

“Oh congratulations sir ...or should I say officer!” Kryten smiled.

“Thank you Kryten” Rimmer replied.

“How on Io did you pass that exam?” Lister still couldn’t believe it.

“Did you use a mind patch again?” Cat stuck up his nose.

“Ahem!” You loudly cleared your throat to suggest they shut up before you gave them a whooping.

“I passed because I had a little help” Rimmer smiled sweetly at you, his arm appearing round your waist as he pulled you into his side to kiss the top of your head.

“Oh for crying out loud” Lister moaned “How many times do I have to tell you?”

“Ah Listy, Y/N already ranked over you and now I’m an officer we can do whatever we want and there’s nothing any of you three can do about it” Rimmer had a smug grin on his face.

“Yeah I know” Lister sighed “but honestly man congratulations”

“Thanks Listy” Rimmer gave him a nod.

“Yeah congrats” Cat was hesitant to say it but he knew you’d never let him forget it if he didn’t.

“Hey why don’t we have a party?” Lister grinned.

“What?” Rimmer looked a little confused, he couldn’t possibly be being nice.

“To celebrate you passing the exam and becoming an officer, we know how much you’ve wanted it and you deserve a proper celebration” Lister smiled, you were starting to wonder whether you were actually dreaming, Lister being nice to Rimmer was a very rare occurrence.

“I don’t know” Rimmer mumbled.

“Hey you got a break, make the most of it!” You smiled.

“Alright then” Rimmer looked over at Lister.

“Brutal, Krytes you’re on food and drink, Cat you’re with me let’s go! Party starts at 8” Lister threw out orders before him Cat and Kryten all left the room.