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okkotsuus · 1 year

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ex encounters (bllk pt.4) !

features: alexis ness ... tabito karasu ... eita otoya ... kenyu yukimiya

contents: bad exes, general tw, confrontation, harassment, google translate german, strong language

tw for the exes: controlling, domineering, power struggle, accusations, fighting, public scenes, revenge, grabbing (shoulder), trying to get back together, harassment, manipulation, gaslighting, falling out of love, wanting you back, possessive themes

notes: FINALLY FINISHING THIS SERIES and desperately hoping this will cure my writer's block </3

pt.1 — pt.2 — pt.3

like kaiser, ness would be so pressed that your ex would even have the audacity to so much as even think of you. but unlike kaiser, ness would not be trying to throw hands: bro would just be gaslighing your ex into thinking he can't stand a chance against him.

you met ness online, trying to learn german through an anonymous messaging forum: where he was trying to learn your native language. the both of you had no clue who the other was, becoming online friends for years, long before you had ever even met your ex.

when your ex came into your life, ness noticed that you were online less and less. when asked, you gave the sheepish answer that your boyfriend didn't support you learning german, not wanting you to know a language that he didn't.

despite the red flag that was, and all his other warning signs, you stayed with him. you still learned german, now only messaging your pen pal when your lover slept or was away.

but, one day, you came home to your (now ex) boyfriend sitting on the couch. he found out you were still messaging ness, and he was mad.

it lead to a blow-out fight, you ended up having to flee and stay with a friend, collecting your stuff over a week while he was at work. you never saw him again.

eventually, you finished learning german. after a long discussion, ness agreed to meet you at the airport. the second you touched down in berlin, you rushed out the gates to see that cute boy with caramel hair and magenta tips holding your name on a sign. that would be the man you'd come to love so very dearly.

eventually, you and ness moved in together in germany, for his soccer career. you returned home with him for the holidays, to visit family.

as ness and you walked hand in hand through the streets of your hometown, bantering idly in german, you stumbled across a face you thought you'd never see again.

"ah, i see that i was right to not want you to learn german..." his voice said from a little further away, eyes glaring at the two of you. you instantly stiffened, and ever perceptive ness instantly figured out what was happening, muttering a quiet "verdammt" under his breath.

as your ex sauntered closer, ness wordlessly stood in front of you. though he wasn't the most imposing figure, you could see his distaste written plainly on his face, sneering at your ex.

"you left me for a german terrier... i see your standards really lowered..." your ex mumbled, chuckling as he glanced at ness. "keep it up, just try me schwein..." ness threatened, squaring his shoulders.

this went back and forth enough until ness had finally barked out enough insults with that near-crazed look on his face that had him shaking his head and storming away.

your boyfriend, turned to you, like a dog awaiting praise. it had you giggling and cupping his face to press scattered kisses along his cheeks. "thank you, mein held..."

"anything for you, mein schätzchen. i'd do it for you in a heartbeat..."

karasu would be smug at first before quickly getting annoyed. he would want to throw hands, shoving the guy away and mocking him, probably gets the cops called on him. at least he doesn't look bad in cuffs ig??

when karasu was introducing you to a group of fans who watch bllktv, you didn't expect to see your ex. "wow, y/n, what are you now... a gold-digger?" he taunts, stepping into your view.

your boyfriend was off to the side, signing things, blissfully unaware to your torment as his back was turned to you. so, you decided to be the bigger person and just ignore him.

your ex was one of those run-of-the-mill revenge people, would make fun of you at any given chance now that you were separated. you don' even remember why you broke up, probably some snide comment of his that ticked you off. but one thing about him was that he hated being ignored.

karasu, who heard a guy's voice and figured you were getting hit on. he knows that you're a catch, and he trusts you, so usually he lets you humble people on your own unless things get out of hand. well, things got out of hand.

he spun around when he heard you yelp, eyes meeting the hand that gripped your shoulder. in an instant he was shoving your ex away from you, guiding you so gently behind him that it contrasted with the same movement he had used against your ex.

"trash shouldn't touch treasure." he spits, glaring down as you ex stumbles on his feet. just like that, with a shout, your ex charges back at karasu.

like a professional, karasu throws him back again, this time with more force. but desperation does something to inhibition and your ex lunges back again, sending a punch across your boyfriend's face.

karasu just chuckles, wiping the blood from his nose as he grabs your ex's collar with one hand and socks him with the other, sending him to the ground.

they continue this one-sided fighting until flashes of blue and red flare in the corner of your peripheral. then they're both in cuffs and all three of you including those fans from earlier are being questioned.

then, karasu walks away from his cops, rubbing his now-restraint-free wrists as he saunters up to you with that coy smirk. "hey there pretty thing, your jailbird's back..."

he's taken aback as you jump into his arms, hugging him tight as your hands hold him like he was fragile. he just smiles, wrapping his arms around you and kissing he side of your head with a gentle affection.

"hey now, don't cry. i'd gladly get cuffed again for keeping you safe."

otoya is another smug one, but unlike karasu he is not eager to be fighting. otoya's smart and knows just what to do, plays innocent if it ever gets to the point where cops come in.

of all people in the world, otoya has certainly had his share of running into an unpleasant ex. he's the one who will understand you best, which is why he stands next to you with a cocky grin as your ex desperately tries to explain how he's better for you than him.

"i don't have a history of cheating... unlike present company..." your ex digs, shooting a smug look at otoya, who grumbles out a "c'mon, it was one time..."

you just chuckle, shaking your head in exasperation with a heavy sigh. "no, you didn't cheat. but you're still a manipulative asshole." he huffs, rolling his eyes and mumbling curses under his breath.

"you pretentious bitch, i never once hurt you. it was all for your betterment because you can't take care of yourself." your ex spits, getting closer until otoya puts an arm between you two.

"don't talk to what's mine like that, back it up bud." otoya muses with a grin, pushing your ex back lightly, putting himself between you two. your ex stammers, glaring at you over your boyfriend's shoulder.

seemingly, all was fine until the next time you were out with otoya, your ex appeared again: delivering the same take-me-back speech. it was getting tiring and you felt your patience begin to wear thin with every emotionally-charged word that spilled from his lips.

you groaned, running your hands down your face with a tired sigh, otoya silently wrapping an arm around your shoulder.

"listen, i think you should just go, man. this is getting pretty pathetic... i know that y/n's a real catch, but sometime's you gotta know when you can't reel a babe in..." otoya says, somehow getting even more smug as he presses you into his side, leering down at your ex.

eventually, after a few more snide remarks from otoya, your ex finally gave up. allowing you to slump in your boyfriend's arms, letting ot a tired sigh as you kissed his cheek. "thanks, 'toya..."

"i know why he's so desperate, there really is no one like you. makes me happy that i ended my player streak for you..."

an angel sent from heaven. arguably the best person to run into your ex with. yukimiya is calm and composed enough if your ex is temperamental, and he's tall and handsome to scare anyone else away. 10/10 literal perfect man.

yukimiya’s a pretty boy, he’s tall and lean with an angelic smile. he’s a catch, by far the best man you’ve ever dated. he only proves this to be even more true when the two of you run into your ex.

there wasn’t necessarily any bad blood between you two, he had just suddenly broken up with you on the claim that “he fell out of love.” it hurt you like hell, of course, but there was no reason for you to resent him for it. so you two left on good terms, occasionally wishing a happy birthday to the other until the friendship too fizzled out.

then you met yukimiya through a mutual friend and fell hard, but he fell harder. so here you are, happily sipping a blue slushy while yukimiya held your hand and chattered about soccer.

“blue was always our favorite…” a voice rang from behind you, yukimiya stopped drinking his red slushy as he turned with you. there he was, your ex with a sheepish grin.

you quirked a brow, confused. you hadn’t talked to him in nearly a year, ever since you and yuki had started dating.

he smiles sweetly at you, the kind that has you realizing where this is leading. “sorry, i’ve just been nostalgic about us lately…” he said with a chuckle, hand rubbing the back of his neck.

your eyes flit over to your boyfriend, catching the furrow of his brow. yukimiya was a really nice guy, he wasn’t a fan of confrontation. but you are.

so you grin at your ex, waving a hand dismissively. “sorry man, i’m in a very happy relationship…”

the second he tries to protest you swiftly shut him up, sticking out your tongue. at first, your ex was confused, then he realized that your tongue was purple. his eyes flit between your blue slushy and yukimiya’s red one, sighing and walking away.

yukimiya’s face goes bright red as he stares at you, “that’s not why your tongue is purple, you just wanted to try mine!” he protests.

you chuckle, grinning at him, “yeah, but he doesn’t have to know that…” yukimiya just sighs before grinning back at you.

"i don’t like lying, so why don’t you let me do it authentically…"

okkotsuus 23

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serene-sun · 1 year

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𝕻𝖗𝖎𝖉𝖊 𝖎𝖓 𝕭𝖊𝖗𝖑𝖎𝖓 🏳️‍⚧️

Pairing: Swiss x trans OC

Warnings: crying, self doubt, coming out, trans topics

Word count: 1k

Summary: tonight’s show in Berlin ends up taking some wheight off of their chest.

A/n: completely inspired by today's pic of Swiss with the trans flag!

“Ha!” Swiss squeaked, throwing his guitar pick into the sea of waving and cheating fans.

I come up behind him, sneaking up to scare him.

The lights are loud, and everyone seems so happy. I love this, this after-ritual feeling. Its been a great night, no mess-ups and no difficulties.

“Boo!” I pounce onto the ghoul from behind, attaching to his back as he stumbles forward.

“Oh, you scared me!” He breathlessly says

“Haha, sorry, couldn't help it!” I laugh, feeling him smile as I get off him.

“Oh, look we're about to do final bows.” Swiss direct my attention to the other ghouls lining up with Papa.

“Oh yeah,” I say, grabbing his hand and prancing over there with the jolly ghoul.

It has been only a few months since I was summoned, apparently, they needed backup and extra bass. Since the moment they searched for my element mark, and found that my summoning was very difficult, they have always checked in on me daily. I grew very close to Swiss, as he was after all the first ghoul I laid eyes upon. I never got too close to get intimate or physical, I was always fearful they would find things they didn't like. One was that I had in fact, not been born a guy. Another is that I had several scars from the times that I had lived. I assumed they knew, but when they never said anything and went on like I was normal…I couldn't bring myself to let them down.

They all assumed I was normal.

Some bright colors catch my attention, my eyes latch onto the flag that Swiss was holding.

Swiss tries to take my hand, I stand between him and Phantom.

“Hey, you ok?” Swiss can tell something is off.

“Yeah, yeah, what's that?” I already know that the flag he's holding is that of the trans community, but I double-check, I also don't want to bring it up myself.

“Oh, this? A fan threw it on stage, it's the trans flag, probably because it's pride month ya know?” Swiss finishes, and yet my eyes can't decide if I should look at his pretty eyes shining through the mask or the flag that felt like it hated me.

After we bow, we all head back to the dressing rooms. A bunch of gasps of relief echoes down the hallway as tails fly out of pants, and strangled hood masks come off of sweaty hair and messed up black-out makeup.

“Hey, you sure your ok? You were shaking pretty bad, and that wasn't adrenaline shakes haha.” Swiss gives an honest smile, making sure I was ok for the 2nd time that day.

I comb through my hair with my fingers, the glamour fading as small claws appear. I wince at occasional knots and tangles within the long black curls.

“Yeah… it's nothing.” I try my hardest to give a fake smile, but it fades away as soon as his eyes leave mine.

It's not like I hated the way I was, it's just that I never wanted it to become my personality. So I completely stopped saying it, letting the choice of having pride in it go. It's not like I hated the flag either, it just felt like being so close to it, was making it closer to them figuring out the obvious thing about me.

“Here, come with me.’ Swiss takes my hand again, I now notice how sweaty it is, but I follow him as he guides me down to the dressing room that he shared with Rain, Phantom, and myself.

“You started acting weird when you saw the flag, Are you sure you're ok? Don't lie, I know it was more than nerves.” Swiss pulls me into the room and turns the lights on.

I start to panic, my chest feels tight, my hands feel numb and my face feels hot.

I start to pick at my nails with my other hand, bringing them together at my waist.

Everything I want to say, I swallow.

“Nothin.” I say Brittle

“If you feel nothing, then why are you shaking?” Swiss asks, low.

His words ring the bells of panic in my head, my ears go down, and my tail stays still between my legs as if I've been injured.

“It’s- hard…to explain.” My voice cracks

Dammit, he definitely knows now

“I feel that you are scared, and I want you to know that there's nothing to worry about.” Swiss rubs my arm assuringly.

For once I hate that he can practically read my mind, that was so connected. Although I feel the warmth and fuzzy yellow glow in him, I'm still too frightened to tell him.

Maybe it's not fear, maybe it's the acceptance I have to have before I can say it

“It's alright. It's ok if you're not ready.” Swiss sighs, trying to make it seem like it's not bothering him.

“Swiss, promise you won't see me any different?” I ask, a tear falling down my cheeks silently.

The multi-ghoul turns around, wiping away the tear and cupping my face.

‘Of course not!” He says, his other hand cupping the other cheek just as lovingly.

Is this the part where I die?

“You do realize it's okay if your trans right? You're the same person, it just gives me more knowledge.” Swiss tilts his head

I stay silent, I feel my blood stop moving, my heart stops beating, my brain stutter.

“How?” I know he can finish my question.

“When you were summoned, the only thing you wore was the eternal red flames of hell. When I searched for your element mark, I had to look across your abdomen.” Swiss has a bit of a smile, and he turns away to finish packing his bag.

“You act as if being trans is a bad thing, it doesn't change who you are.” Swiss chuckled, “And it sure as hell doesn't make up your entire personality.”

I stand there like a complete idiot, “You knew I was trans this entire time?”

“What? We all did, don't be silly.” A new voice enters the room, it's Rain and Phantom coming to pack their bags for the hotel.

I panic, how much have they heard? Have the others been listening too?

“Come along now! We're about to be kicked out, another band is playing here tonight.” Papa’s voice rings down the hallways, and several tired “okay”s hum together.

“Come on, don't be upset, nothing to worry about.” Swiss pats my back throws my bag at me, and walks out the door.

I'm still so stunned, I falter to walk behind him.

“Alone or not, you gotta walk forward.” Rain passes by me, I must be walking slowly.

“In the end, it's your presence that matters.” I hear Swiss say, staying in place to catch up.

I feel tears prickle up, so you don't see me differently? So you do still love me?

#serene sun nocontext #the band ghost #ghost band #serene sun writes #the band ghost x reader #nameless ghouls x reader #nameless ghouls #the band ghost swiss ghoul #swiss ghoul x reader #nameless ghoul swiss #swiss ghost #ghost the band #the band ghost oc #swiss x transmasc reader #rain x reader #phantom x reader

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oliviaamendola · 11 months

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[ 𝕥𝕖𝕩𝕥 ] - 𝓉𝑜𝓂 & 𝑜𝓁𝒾𝓋𝒾𝒶

tom: do we come to the reality that friendships as adults is just another area in out adult lives that we have to figure out? i do miss the days when you could just say you liked someone's shirt on a playground and they become your best friend. i try to be but you're kind and i can't overlook that. it takes a lot to be kind these days. it was lovely to see you in berlin, love. did you have a good time getting to be a part of the culture? it fascinating to be at a proper oktoberfest. when i tell you that mia loved getting to meet you, i truly mean that. she absolutely loved your little family and that makes me realize we need to get together more often. care to make this a monthly thing? now that would be hilarious to see! went the opposite direction on the skills but how lovely your house would be when he's older and can play music for you all. christmas carols on the piano? i may have to crash your holidays. i have a feeling that scarlett and mia will be running over these boys before they even know it. i can only send pictures if you promise to send me them in return because this smile? why are they always so precious when they don't have teeth? pure gums. she's got a beauty to her then and i have no doubt that she gets it from you. would you say that weston looks more like danny then? i can see the similarities in their features. oh, i would never. besides, we all get overly emotional about our kids. they're our greatest treasures, least that's how i see it so you're fully warranted to go off about how much you adore them. they're yours and the best parts of you, yeah? has it been nice having kids close together? i tend to think about having more kids, now more than i ever have because mia is getting closer to being one but... it's mental thinking about her growing up and being a big sister eventually. i know that i'm ready but i just need the greenlight from nat since she's the one that calls that shots. she had a relatively easy pregnancy with mia but i want her to be ready more than anything. one of five? ah, one more and i am so i do get it. are you the youngest? oldest, like me? how has the season been going for danny?

Liv: it's just harder. when you're a kid, you see your friends every day at school or in the neighborhood. when you're an adult, your friends could be all over the world so it takes actual effort to keep the friendship. which i don't hate at all, because the people who want to be in your life make that effort. it doesn't mean you talk every day, but effort is effort in my eyes. what's the sense in being mean? feels like a wasted effort in my opinion. germany was really fun! i'd never been before so it was amazing to be there during such an iconic time. big fan of the dirndl. have you been before? aww, what a sweetheart! mia is stunning and you might have a little model on your hands. can we? i could kiss her cute little cheeks all day long and scarlett loved having someone a little more alert than her brother to play with. if you ever want to come to vegas to catch a game, let me know. though i wouldn't be offended if vegas is the last place you want to visit 😂 my entire family is musical – we all sing and play at least one instrument. danny has a nice voice and plays the guitar, so it's really not an option that these kids will be musical in some way. you're more than welcome to crash any time, especially if we're in rhode island because christmas there is nothing short of pure magic. of course! you don't have to ask me twice considering my camera roll is mostly of them. and you better be sending mia pics in exchange! aww, thank you. obviously i think she's gorgeous but it's nice hearing it from an unbiased source too! a little bit! his eyes are darker, but he reminds me a lot of scarlett so it'll be interesting to see if he grows more into his amendola side. ideal for me, because a mini danny would be the cutest thing! hopefully they're the best parts of us. it's all any parent wants for their kids, right? i've enjoyed their close age range. it's hard right now because they're both so dependent on us but i think that they'll be close when they're older. and it helps that we're still on diaper duty with scarlett so we didn't get spoiled with having to go back to them. i've heard that's the worst, haha! one is still little, but there's no right or wrong way to go. you have to do what's best for you and your family, and sometimes it just happens and it's a nice surprise when it does. whether mia is one or eleven, she's going to be an amazing big sister! smart man to realize it's your wife who calls the shots! every pregnancy is different too. scarlett was a fairly quick birth and weston came twice as fast, which was slightly terrifying but not at the same time since we had already been through it once before. you're the oldest? how old is your youngest sibling? no, i'm right in the middle – the neglected middle child, which speaks so much to my personality haha! @tcmhcll

#text: tom h.#ooc: moving this here if you don't mind!

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oldbutnotyetwise · 1 year

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The View From Where I Sit

My perspective has changed over the last year, both literally and figuratively. A year ago I was walking around, albeit with a slight limp, with no idea what was waiting up ahead for me. Now, less than a year later, I am confined to a wheelchair. I assure you, it is a pretty drastic perspective shift.

One of the definitions of perspective is “a point of view”. My point of view has changed from someone who stood around 6’2” to someone who now is always seated and views life from somewhere around 4’. I’m not sure, looking at life from 4’, was that where I was in Grade 4 or 5? One of my few attractive traits to the opposite sex over the years was my height, it allowed my date to wear high heels if she chose to, and I would still be taller than her. Just another box that I no longer would receive a check mark in.

Previously when we went out shopping together and would part ways, my wife just had to stand still and look around and she would see my head wandering in one of the aisles. Now when she loses sight of me she has to walk along the ends of aisles to see where I have rolled myself to. This is further aggravated by the fact my dear sweet wife is a worrier if she hasn’t seen me for a few minutes there is a panic that arises in her similar to a mother who has lost a four year old toddler in a Super Store. This also applies to loud noises around the condo, any bang, bump or crash brings her running from the other room, as she enters her eyes sweep the floor expecting to see me sprawled out and helpless. What she normally sees is me looking down at whatever I have dropped, perhaps using some inappropriate language while I ponder if I really needed whatever it is that is now laying on the floor out of my reach.

My need to be in a wheelchair also brings with it a constant condition of dehydration. You see if I need to pee it is a big deal, I can’t just pop into a nearby restaurant or even just go and pee behind a tree. More often than not the restaurant will not be accessible, or if it is, the washroom won’t be. Do you know how many restaurants I look at enviably wishing I could try them out, but the step, or steps at the front door may as well be the Berlin Wall. So the point being, I limit my liquid intake so when I go out I won’t be in a urinary crisis. We walk our dogs three or four times a day, I can almost hear them snickering at me as they casually squat and pee wherever and whenever they want to go. I’ve even had to forgo my treasured after lunch tea for fear it will interfere with the afternoon dog walk.

When we lived up north we had our go to restaurant, Match, at the North Bay Casino. It had good food, good service, decent prices and was totally accessible with an accessible washroom. We haven’t found a comparable place in the Cambridge area yet. We recently took my wife’s daughter out for her birthday dinner. The call was made ahead of time to the restaurant and they said yes they were “Accessible”. We arrive and roll up to the front door, no automatic door opener. The door gets held open but there is a ridge at the front door that the wheelchair can’t get over. A fellow customer is kind enough to help get me and the chair through the door with me feeling like the spectacle I very much have become. We have our dinner, and everything goes smoothly but then I need the washroom before we go. I go to the accessible washroom but it is locked, I wait and wait and things are approaching Crisis Level and I am desperate enough to try to get myself into the regular washroom when the Accessible washroom door opens and out walks our able-bodied waiter who has just had the dump of the century. He can’t even look at me, and I am seriously angry because I had already paid the bill and given him a good tip which I wish I could now take back.

My wife’s favourite restaurant is Swiss Chalet, as you approach you will see the friendly wheelchair sticker in the window, they even have the buttons to open the front door, so can someone explain to me why there is no automatic door opener on the washroom? Just picture for a second me in my manual wheelchair, I need both hands on the wheels, having only one hand on the wheel you will just be going around in circles, so if both hands are on the wheels how am I going to open the heavy bathroom door, especially on the way back out when the door opens in?

You see places call themselves accessible, stick the handicapped sticker up at the front of their establishment, but they really aren’t and to the best of my knowledge there are no set standards that are enforced as to what “accessible” really is. So I will be that dehydrated guy sitting in the corner the restaurant that has no stairs, but I will be sulking because I can’t have a beer because ….. well we all know that as quickly beer goes in, it comes out.

When we had to leave our northern home I wanted to go somewhere else where no one knew me. I didn’t want my old friends and coworkers seeing this retired detective, runner, hiker, dog walker rolling around in a wheelchair. I am in a new city, I’m just that guy in a wheelchair that is often seen out walking, I use this term very loosely, with his dogs, wife and/or daughter. No one knows me and I kind of like that anonymity as more and more of my body stops working.

A very dear friend has loaned me her old electric wheelchair as she has a new one. First thing you need to know is that these things are the cost of a small car, they tend to run from $25,000 - $45,000. They are 400 pound monsters capable of doing much damage if you are not careful. Within about thirty seconds of trying it out for the first time I ripped the end piece off the kitchen island in our new condo because I hadn’t noticed one of the foot rests had turned out. So far I have managed not to drive it through any of the glass doors in our Condo building. Now all those nice sloped sidewalks that look like they are designed for wheelchairs, not all of them are. I am constantly scraping the bottom of the wheelchair or getting myself stuck when trying to cross streets. These are things I never would have noticed until I was actually using a wheelchair. The manual wheelchair which we often use when going out is even worse, the front wheels hit a ridge on the sidewalk or doorway and it is almost like an eject button has been hit as the wheelchair suddenly stops but I’m still going forward. More often than not I have to go through the doors backwards.

I’ve always been quite happy in my role as a wallflower, the guy who isn’t really noticed and who just sits back and watches everything that is going on. Well those days are gone, there is nothing at all discreet about a 6’2” guy sitting on a 400 pound power wheelchair. There is no getting around it, I am now a spectacle. One day as my wife was helping me into my wheelchair she spotted someone on the restaurant patio who appeared to be taking our picture. I was tempted to go up and offer to pose for him if he was so interested in taking my picture but chose instead to just ignore it. I tend to be a pretty observant person so I see the looks when people think I don’t notice. Now I admit I have no idea what they are thinking when they look at me, is it pity, curiosity, compassion or perhaps discomfort at being so close to the disabled person. The point is, I miss the anonymity of blending in and not being noticed.

I will tell you about a recent visit to an Ikea store, a place that I mistakenly presumed would be “accessible” because they are such a forward thinking store. I attempted to use two of their Accessible washrooms, neither was big enough for me to get off my wheelchair and use the toilet. One of them had such a sharp turn going into the washroom I managed to get myself lodged in the doorway because besides the sharp turn, I was also trying to hold the door open as there were no automatic door opener. Yes I was making a scene, jammed in the bathroom door, trying to dislodge myself while people were standing there waiting to get in. The other thing I was constantly was turning down aisles only to find them blocked by merchandise on skids causing me to have to back out because there isn’t room for me to turn around. I don’t know that I will return to an Ikea store anytime soon. I emailed Ikea to tell them of my experience when I visited their store, but never received a reply.

Our new Condo is right beside a rather large theatre that would appear to have some good shows coming up. My dear wife is working so hard I thought it would be nice to take her to the upcoming show but there aren’t many seats left, and there certainly aren’t any “accessible” seats left. In the old days I would have just bought those tickets even if the seats were in the middle of the row, that’s not possible anymore. Lyle Lovett is coming to the next town over soon, I’ve always wanted to see him perform in person, but to be honest, the thought of being in a wheelchair, surrounded by hundreds if not thousands of people makes me pretty uncomfortable. So once again I will be staying home.

Now those are some of the negative things I have encountered so far, but I have also experienced much kindness from friends but also from strangers. The truck driver that sees me waiting to cross a busy street and pulls his truck across two lanes to block traffic so I can get across. The cars in the long stream of traffic that stop, again blocking traffic so I can cross. These aren’t one time things, these are things that happen frequently. The people who hold the doors open for me, or hold the elevator, yes maybe they would do that even if I wasn’t in a wheelchair but I think I am shown more kindness because of the wheelchair. All the incredible kind, caring people involved with the Sunnybook Hospital, ALS Society, all the care people that have looked after me so well up until this point. So many amazing people I would have never met if not on this challenging journey.

Some former work colleagues and friends came and we all went out for lunch wandering downtown (they wandered, I rolled). We were enjoying our visit and not paying attention as the sky turned dark and a torrential downpour started. Now normally you would call an Uber or Cab, and they could have, I even encouraged them to, but they refused because they didn’t want to leave me racing through the rain in the wheelchair on my own. One friend got a large garbage bag to help keep my seat dry and then we rushed back to the Condo and upon arrival we were all drenched…but we were also laughing and I was grateful, these three friends know how important it is to stand by your friend, through thick and thin, wet and dry.

A rather sad note, travelling in the power wheelchair does not fool my iPhone into thinking that I am walking. For the guy who once would average around 10,000 steps in a day, my average over this last week is 54 steps a day, and I assure you each one of those steps was exhausting.

So I am adapting to life at this new lower perspective, and although there are many, many challenges that come with living your life while seated, there are also many good things if you take the time to look for them. Life is just as beautiful from 4’ as it is at 6’. Perspective is your point of view, both where you see the world from, as well as how you chose to see the world.

What goes through your head when you drive or walk by someone in a wheelchair? Do you ever stop to ponder what your life would be like if you were the one in the wheelchair?

#wheelchair Perspective ALS

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casspurrjoybell-19 · 1 year

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TORN - Chapter 17

*Warning: Adult Content*

Berlin Cahill had never felt so tired in his entire life.

Both his body and mind were spent beyond belief and the trauma of today's events was really getting to him.

It was supposed to be the perfect day, the day that he officially became Luna of Oasis' pack and completed his bond with him but of course the Goddess had never seemed to be on his side in times like this.

Even though he was extremely nervous at the time, beyond the wall of fear that he'd built was a field of excitement, one that he only got a taste of before it was completely ruined.

‘On top of that, my tummy was beginning to bother me. Just my luck.’

It's hard to explain how it felt when Berlin saw Max's face walking down that aisle but the best word to encompass it had to be dread.

He dreaded seeing his face again, the one that he thought he knew oh-so-well.

A vivid image of the demented state of the features that he once admired, stolen and twisted, was burned onto the back of his eyelids, taunting him.

Each time he snuggled deeper into the covers with Hannah and Brook on either side of him, trying to drift off to sleep, his eyes would snap right back open as he whimpered softly in fear, trying to keep his voice down each time as not to wake his two friends beside him.

What did he do to deserve to have such a complicated life?

He only wanted to live with a loving mate, be held in his strong arms every night and bare his children.

He wanted to be a happy couple, the kind that go out on dates on the weekends and struggles to raise their litter of pups without pulling their hair out.

Instead, Berlin got a demon who possessed the body of his ex-Mate, who undoubtedly wanted me and probably Oasis also, dead and one loving mate that wanted to do nothing but protect and care for him.

Why couldn't he just choose Oasis and be done with this entire situation?

It was really becoming too much for him to bare and he was sure that it has barely even begun.

‘I'm so weak...’

Turning his head into his fluffy pillow, Berlin inhaling deeply as tears began streaming down his cheeks.

Oasis' scent that clung to the soft fabric filled his nostrils and he found himself only crying harder at the reminder that he wasn't beside him.

‘I want him... I want Oasis.’

Despite the fact that Berlin begged Oasis to stay with him tonight, he could practically see the bloodlust in his eyes when Max was dragged away into the basement.

He could tell that he was debating the options, however his need to torture the demon who threatened his Mate’s life easily dominated his sanity.

Before the Alpha descended the crumbling stairs to the basement, he instructed Hannah and Brook to watch over Berlin while he "attended to business".

Although Berlin didn't like the idea of being watched all of the time, he has to admit that their presence next to him in bed was at least a bit comforting and he definitely needed as much of it as he can get right now.

He peeks my head out from under the covers and turns his head to the right, only to be met with Brook's sleeping face.

It was safe to say that even when she sleeps she looks like a model.

Reaching out a finger, Berlin gently pushed back a curly piece of hair that slipped in front of her eyes, not wanting it to tickle her nose and make her wake up.

That’s when he saw it... it was barely a flicker but Berlin’s teary eyes were fast enough to detect the slight movement that reflected in the wide window.

Who would be able to get into the Alpha Wing without Oasis' permission?

Berlin sat up in the bed, trying to be gentle with his movements so that he wouldn't disturb his friends.

A chill went down his spine as another movement registered in the corner of his eye.

A dark figure ran past the door in a flash and Berlin immediately slipped off the bed, padding slowly towards the dark hallway.

He wrapped his arms around himself to try and find some warmth as the chill of the night was causing goosebumps to rise on his skin.

Pursing his lips in confusion, Berlin peeked his head out of the door, squinting down the left side of the hallway before turning his head the other way, only to be greeted with green eyes that were so bright that they seemed to glow in the dark.

"W-what are you d-d-doing here?" Berlin breathlessly stuttered out, much too scared to move.

In fact, he was surprised that he could choke out those simple words.

His Wolf Casey was helplessly whimpering in their head and Berlin knew that he was a moment from taking over from pure fright.

A soft but sinister laugh came back in response and before he knew it, a gun was pointed to his head and his arms were trapped behind him.

Berlin let out a scream so loud that it could've broken a wine glass.

He was frantically struggling against the hold of the imposter that had him so tightly bound in their arms but his measly strength was nothing compared to how strong they were.

Tears streamed endlessly down his face, blurring his vision as he was practically dragged across the room towards the window.

"I've got him, boss. I'm exiting at the moment, prepare the van," the person holding Berlin commanded through some sort of headset and Berlin’s eyes widened at the familiar tone.

However, before he was able to confirm, someone else did.

"Callie?" came Brook's surprised voice from the bed and Berlin could've laughed out loud with how happy he was at the sight of both Brook and Hannah sliding out from underneath the covers.

The relief he felt was unreal.

‘We're saved,’ cried Berlin’s Wolf, Casey, although they were both unaware of what was about to transpire.

Before he was able to get over the shock of Callie, someone who he thought was his best friend, working to kidnap him, two gunshots rang through out the room.

Berlin could've sworn that time moved in slow-motion as Brook and Hannah fell to the floor, blood trailing across the hardwood floors before he was yanked out of the window.

He let out a cry of anguish, clawing for his friends and sobbing harder than ever before.

Just when he thought things couldn't get any worse, fate turns against him once again.

"Please, save me..." Berlin begged, desperately attempting to reach Oasis through their straining mating bond.

If only they'd finished the ceremony...

"Ouch..." he whimpered as he was thrown into the back of a van roughly, his fragile frame bumping against the walls as he felt the vehicle lurch forward.

"Ugh, your crying is so annoying," said Callie, reaching into a black pouch on her hip to pull out a syringe filled with some sort of thick, pink liquid.

"Hopefully this will shut you up."

Berlin couldn't fight or protest when she moved over to him as fast as lightning, pressing the needle into the side of his neck.

The pricking sensation was barely registered in his mind as he sobbed against the dirty floor of the van.

He just wanted to sleep.

‘Sleep.’

That sounded like an amazing idea.

Without another thought, he allowed the drowsy feeling to cloud his senses and take him off into a state of nothingness.

*****

It took no time at all for Oasis to reach the Alpha Wing.

His legs had a mind of their own and their only thoughts were consumed with Berlin.

Oasis heard Berlin trying to contact him through their link as he rushed to him, however it was far from being fully established and resulted in a faint sound of static instead.

He silently begged the Moon Goddess that he was alright as he approached his bedroom, his blue eyes clouded around the rim with red.

Blood-lust.

He'd left the torture chamber without touching the demon, which was something that never happened to his victims.

Max had simply laughed like a maniac when he saw Oasis sprint away at the sound of Berlin's scream, chanting a song that sounded vaguely of 'Mary Had a Little Lamb'.

The man was definitely clinically insane and that gave the Alpha all the more reason to skin him alive.

The first thing that Oasis noticed was the empty bed, which sent his instincts into hyper-sensitivity mode.

Berlin's scent was strewn throughout the room along with the faint tinge of his friends' as well.

It only took half of a second longer for him to pick up on the pungent stench of blood.

My head snapped to the side, taking in the sight of the two girls on the floor with blood pouring profusely from two wounds in their abdomen.

‘Shit.’

"Ortiz, put the pack house on lockdown. We have a breach. Benji, I have two wounded in the Alpha Wing. I need you here immediately," Alpha Oasis instructed through the pack link, cursing to himself when he picked up fresh scent of Berlin along with another faintly familiar one belonging to one of their newer pack members, Callie, near the open window.

It was slowly fading, no doubt from the slight breeze that entered the room but he’d always be able to recognize the tantalizing scent of his mate.

Oasis guessed that his Wolf, York was right to protect Berlin from those 'friends' of his.

‘It was surprising, as the horny Wolf was hardly useful for anything else other than getting his dick hard.’

Red began to creep further into Oasis’ line of sight as he let out a growl, York forcing himself to surface when it began to sink in that Berlin was most definitely gone.

With a roar of anger as well as agony, he turns to run back towards the torture chamber.

‘Max. That fucking bastard. I should've killed him when I had the chance.’

"Alpha," the voice of Oasis’ head warrior, Luka, pierced through his link and the fur on his hackles stood on end at the urgency of it.

He'd left Luka to watch over the Incubi when he ran to check on Berlin and it was easy to tell that something was wrong through his tone of voice.

"What the fuck do you want?" Oasis growled back at him, his voice sounding deeper as York began to take over once again.

"It's Max. He's gone."

The Alpha could practically feel Luka's face paling through the link at the pure anger he shot back at him.

He was so riled up that he couldn't speak, let along respond to him as he turned the corner that led to the chambers.

Luka jumped at Oasis’ sudden appearance in the damp basement but he couldn't care less.

Just as he said, the pole Max was previously attached to was barren, the shackles left open and dangling.

Alpha Oasis roared out with rage, stomping his way over to the pole and flattening the hard metal against the floor with the swipe of his hand.

His chest heaved and his eyes began to fill up with tears as the weight of the situation dawned on him in one fell swoop.

‘Berlin is gone. My baby boy is gone. My Angel was ripped from my arms by a deranged asshole.’

Oasis falls to the ground with a sob, feeling nothing like the powerful Alpha that he usually is.

The most important part of his life was taken from him and he felt nothing more than emptiness.

He'd get him back, no matter what he had to do.

He swore to protect Berlin and he would never give up on that promise.

Not until his very last breath.

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jimblejamblewritings · 2 years

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little situation | part 31.

Summary: For years, HYDRA had been trying to use the samples of Steve’s DNA to make another super-soldier. They finally succeed and when S.H.I.E.L.D. breaks her out, Cap is forced to come face to face with his kid and figure out parenting on an Avengers’ lifestyle.

Warnings: maybe potential childhood trauma but nothing really

Pairing: Steve Rogers x blackdaughter!reader, avengers x child!reader, peter parker x black!reader

Word Count: 2.7k

Previous Part | (Series Masterlist)

The paint on the star had chipped away completely over the years. He had become a nomad, feeling like he didn’t have much to live for. Not when he lost his second chance, a chance he shouldn’t have even gotten and Steve was sure there wouldn’t be a third. If you asked the old Avengers where Steve Wilson-Rogers— he couldn’t bring himself to drop the Wilson in his name— was, they wouldn’t know. They stopped knowing Steve’s location by the middle of the first year. His social media went dead, most of theirs did. They didn’t call him, he called them. Once every two or three months. A single voicemail sent to everyone to know he was alive and doing as well as he could.

He didn’t really go by Steve either. On the off chance one of the Avengers managed to actually pick up Steve’s call before he got it to voicemail, they didn’t address him by anything other than Cap. He wasn’t Captain America anymore, he had left the shield with Tony. But he also wasn’t Steve— that was a name that belonged to his family. So he became Cap, staying in ratty motels around the world and helping people from the shadows but never staying for long and never being seen by many people.

The only time anyone truly knew it was Cap was the tattoo artist in Berlin. The man was starstruck but didn’t say anything, the world— the half that still existed— had learned what he had gone through. So the artist worked on Steve in absolute silence: the outline of a large star on his left bicep and two more around it. There was also a secret, smaller tattoo. Another star in the same shade of pink as your suit behind his right ear. When it was done, Steve paid the man and walked out to never be seen in that part of Berlin again.

Natasha and Rhodey got the most contact with him. After finishing a job he would send them a text of where they could pick up the bad guys he had tied up for them. There was always a hope that they might see Steve when they went to retrieve the people but he never showed. It went like that until the third year when he broke. He couldn’t keep punching through his grief and eventually it all made him numb. So Steve went back to New York, back to his old home in Brooklyn.

Nothing was there, everything still in the apartment at the compound. And nothing was really added the longer Steve stayed. He became a grief counselor. He wasn’t sure if it was because he hoped that helping other people process their grief would eventually help him or if it was because being a counselor was Sam’s old job and it felt like being close to him. He told everyone they had to move on, learn to process but it wasn’t easy for him so how could he expect others to do it.

He finally found himself slowly getting through it by the fifth year. And Steve thought he might be able to stop running now. So he got on his motorcycle after his latest counseling session and started to drive. The compound still looked the same. That was nice, at least one thing was still the same. Steve entered just as Nat was throwing a dry sandwich back onto her plate.

“I’d offer to make you dinner but that would be more depressing,” Steve joked, it didn’t come out as light as he used to.

Nat smiled a little just seeing his face. “You here for free laundry?”

“And to see a friend.”

“Clearly, your friend is fine.”

“You know, I saw a pod of whales coming over the bridge,” Steve said.

“In the Hudson?”

“Fewer ships, cleaner water—”

“If you’re about to tell me to look on the bright side, I’ll throw this sandwich at you.”

Steve laughed before taking a seat at the table. He apologized, the speech was a force of habit from being a counselor. Even he didn’t really believe it. Steve was surprised that Nat was still in the business of being an Avenger. But her will was a little more than his. Although based on the woman in front of him, Steve suspected she would leave soon as well.

They engaged in small talk, Nat being very careful not to say anything that might have remotely related to you. It was awkward and hard but something both of them appreciated. Just being with each other. Old friends, two of the original Avengers. A notification popped up on the hologram and Nat swiped it without really paying attention.

“Hi! Hello? Is anyone home?” a voice called out over the intercom. “This is Scott Lang. We met a few years ago at the airport!”

The two of them turned towards the hologram screen. They weren’t actually seeing Ant-man. They couldn’t be seeing Scott, it was impossible. He was someone who they had on the list of Avengers that got snapped. But here he was on the screen, standing on the front door. Natasha quickly pressed the button to let Scott in. He paced back and forth in attempts to collect his thoughts.

“Have you two ever studied quantum physics?” Scott asked.

“Only enough to make conversation,” Nat said.

“That’ll do. Right, five years ago, before… Thanos, I was in a place called the quantum realm. It’s like its own microscopic universe. Hope she was my… she was supposed to pull me out but then Thanos and I got stuck there.”

“I’m sorry,” Nat said. “That must have been a long five years.”

“But that’s the thing. It wasn’t five years, for me it was five hours… Time works differently in the quantum realm, we don’t know how to navigate right now but what if we did? I haven’t been able to stop thinking about that. What if there was a way we could enter the quantum realm at a certain point and time and exit at another? Like before Thanos.”

Steve and Nat looked at each other. Steve didn’t want to start giving himself hope again. But Scott seemed so sure, like he knew what he was talking about.

“You’re suggesting a time machine?” Steve asked.

“Um, yeah. A time machine.” Scott scratched the back of his head. “Never mind. It’s crazy.”

“Scott, I get emails from a raccoon. Nothing’s crazy anymore,” Nat said.

“So who do we talk to about this?”

The car slowly rolled to a stop in front of Tony’s fancy cabin. Tony, who was carrying his kid Morgan, watched it stop and Steve step out followed by Nat and Scott. Tony set Morgan down and told her to go inside as the others approached the porch of the house. He looked at the serious faces of the three adults in front of him. Tony came back out with four glasses and started pouring water as Scott talked.

“Now we know what it sounds like. But after everything you’ve seen is anything really impossible?”

“You guys are talking about messing with the Planck scale, triggering Deutsch Proposition. You do this… you’re not coming home.”

“But I did.”

“No, Scott. You accidentally survived. That’s different. Billion-to-one cosmic fluke. I’ve got a good thing going here. If there’s no logical way for me to safely execute said time heist, I’m not doing it.”

Morgan came outside. “Mommy told me to come save you.”

“She did? Thank you sweetheart.”

Tony noticed from the corner of his eye how Nat and Scott turned their faces to look at Steve who seemed to tense up after watching the whole interaction. The glass in his hand dropped and Steve looked down as if he was suddenly aware of where he was.

“Sorry,” he mumbled as he bent down to pick up the glass and put it back on the tray.

“Cap, I’m sorry but it—”

“It’s fine, Tony.” Steve looked around and his eyes briefly landed on Morgan. “I’ll be in the car when you guys are, uh, done.”

Steve walked off before Nat could grab him. They all watched him get into the car. Tony walked inside with Morgan, leaving Nat and Scott to stay on the porch.

“What are we going to do now? We need him, we can’t stop,” Scott said.

“We’ll need a bigger brain.”

Tony was on dishwashing duty for the night— he and Pepper liked to switch off chore duty. The water on the nozzle sprayed out. Tony scrambled to turn it off and grabbed a dry dish towel to dry down the area that had gotten sprayed including the shelves. As he dried the shelf he picked up the picture frame that had gotten sprayed. Tony swiped over it with the dish towel once before pausing.

It was the picture of you, him, and Peter playing chess in the lab. He and Pepper had put the picture up when they first moved in. There was also another picture of you and Peter in the house: It was two days before fighting Thanos, Halloween. You and Peter were going to a house party, both of you surprisingly excited for it. Naturally a cheesy couple’s costume was necessary and of course it was going to be Tinkerbell and Peter Pan. You two wore goofy smiles on your face because Tony had something silly right before he took the picture, wanting a more natural smile.

Morgan had asked when she first saw and was old enough to talk causing them to have to explain. Not that the little girl really understood and just thought you guys were on a trip that’s been lasting for five years. Tony set down the picture back in its spot. He told himself he was going to bed but ended up in his home study instead asking FRIDAY to pull up some simulations.

Testing time travel was something Steve never thought he’d be doing. As far as he was concerned, waking up years into the future was time travel enough. He stood next to Bruce as he started up the machine. You used to love hanging out with Tony and Bruce in the lab, that was all Steve could think about. Sometimes he’d find you up way too late on a school night with the two of them working on whatever you were working on. He’d mention the time only for Tony to interrupt saying they had just one more thing. You would beg for five more minutes that would turn into an hour with Bruce promising he would get you upstairs as soon as possible.

This would’ve been something you wanted to watch, you would probably be helping Bruce if you were there. Steve watched as each test run brought back Scott but not normal adult Scott. He was old, and then a baby, and then a teenager, and then old again.

“Bruce! Bring him back,” Nat practically yelled.

“I’m trying.”

Twice more as a baby and finally adult Scott was in front of them. Visibly shaken at ageing so much in such a short amount of time. Steve rolled his eyes and walked outside while Bruce was celebrating what he considered “a minor victory”. It wasn’t working. Well it was, but not in the way they needed. Steve played with his wedding ring.

“I’m sorry guys,” he said to himself.

The alarm on his phone rang and Steve pulled it out to turn it off. His home screen was still the same picture of the four of you. Steve unlocked his phone to turn off the alert that read, Sarah’s Birthday. He shouldn’t do it because it only made grieving worse but every year Steve opened his photos to the video Sam took on your last birthday. This year was no different as he pressed play for the video to start:

The compound was littered in balloons and confetti as you sat on the couch after school in the apartment. You were in pajamas and pretty tired but still had your birthday girl sash on and crown. Bucky and Clint passed behind the couch briefly to hand you, Nat, and Steve large mugs before disappearing from the frame, although their sounds of laughter showed they were still in the room.

“You’re such a pushover, babe,” Sam’s voice came from behind the camera.

“I think Dheaidí looks perfect,” you laughed, taking a sip of your drink.

Your only request for your birthday was that everyone had a self-care day with you. They agreed but only Nat and Steve did every single part of the routine which included hair steaming and acrylics.

“You know she just likes messing with you, punk?” Bucky’s voice was off screen.

“I have years to make up for Uncle Jamie, don’t ruin it.”

“Yeah, Barnes don’t run it,” Nat joked. “When are we ever gonna see Steve like this again?”

“My bad.”

Sam’s voice was loud since he was the one filming. “Happy Birthday, sweetheart… Steve say something to your child.”

“You just want to see the nails.” He rolled his eyes.

“Oh I’m saving this memory, we’re not letting this disappear on us.”

Steve sighed and set his drink down and so did you.

Happy Birthday, Sarah. I hope this day was everything for you. I love you, doll. Steve signed as the nails clicked.

You gave him the biggest smile Steve had seen to date. You looked past Steve when Clint called your name.

“Favorite present you’ve gotten?”

“Being back this year. Dheaidí,” you answered with no hesitation.

“Really?”

“No. The bracelet you and Aunty Laura got me.”

You giggled and turned back to Steve. Sam had almost missed this part of the video because he and everyone else was laughing. You were looking at Steve.

You’ll always be the best present since I was twelve. Thank you for always being there for me, Dheaidí. My favorite person in the world… you’re tied with mom.

Well, I don’t think anyone could ever beat your mother.

The video cut off after you gave Steve a hug and he kissed your temple. The video always made Steve smile. There weren’t lots of private, candid moments of you two caught on camera. Especially since the first few years, Steve didn’t really think about it. He sighed and put the phone.

“Happy Birthday, Babydoll,” he said to no one in particular as he looked at the sky.

A car entered the compound and abruptly stopped in front of him. Tony rolled down the window.

“Let me guess, he turned into a baby.”

“Among other things.”

“EPR Paradox,” Tony said as he stepped out of the car. “Instead of pushing Lang through time, you could push time through him. Tricky, dangerous. Someone could’ve warned you against it.”

“Okay, Tony you did. We get it. So you just want us to give up?”

Tony just looked at him.

“What?”

“Here, fully functioning time-space GPS. Should fix the problem.”

“Tony…”

“Wait. So we get the stones, okay. But I have priorities. I have to keep what I have at all costs. We don’t change right now, we just bring them back. And maybe not die trying.”

Steve nodded in understanding like Tony knew he would. If anyone was on the same page as Tony when it came to family, it was obviously Steve. And he wouldn’t ruin Tony’s now. Tony walked to the trunk of his car and pulled out Steve’s shield.

“Had to wrestle Morgan for it, she’s been using it as a sled.”

“More use than I would’ve given it,” Steve gave a dry chuckle as he took the shield back.

(Part 32)...

#steve rogers x teen!reader #steve rogers x reader #peter parker x black!reader #peter parker x reader #avengers x teen!reader #avengers fic #marvel fic

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the-iceni-bitch · 4 years

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A Birthday Gift

Pairing: Nomad!Steve x fem-Reader

Word Count: 5665 (I know, I know)

Summary: The nomad crew have been holed up with you for months and tensions are high. Nat, being an unrepentant pot stirrer, decides to arrange a pleasant birthday surprise for you.

Warnings: Explicit language, explicit sexual content, explicit descriptions of consensual violence, SMUT! PORN! 18+!

A/N: Hello my fellow hoes and sluts! My birthday is today and it has me in some kind of mood, so I hunkered down and blasted out this fic. @stargazingfangirl18‘s lovely Tree Trimming fic has my holes quivering for some hot Nomad sex, so please sit back and enjoy my birthday present to all of you!

You had always hated your birthday.

Fortunately, Nat was completely willing to take your mind off it with a good sparring match. The snow was falling heavy outside of the large windows on the side of the gym, but the minor exertion was keeping you pleasantly warm. You’d been on the mat for almost an hour, but you still couldn’t seem to get your mind to focus.

Of course, it didn’t help when Rogers came in, glowering, to work the bags, giving you a wary look before he settled into his routine.

Nat and the rest of the team had been with you for almost 3 months now. When she had called you after the events in Berlin, to arrange a potential safehouse for her and her compatriots, you of course offered to have them join you at your isolated lodge on the Snæfellsnes peninsula. You were as off the grid as they come, and with the help of your Wakandan friends, still able to provide the modern creature comforts you were sure they had become accustomed to at the Avengers compound.

You had missed Nat, after all. It had been almost 7 years since you last saw her, but the grin she gave you when they landed in the early Autumn made it seem like she’d never left. You got to know everyone else over the months as well. Sam and you bonded quickly after you introduced him to Aquavit and spent the next 2 days helping him slowly move back to solid foods. Vision of course took everything that happened in stride, and while you couldn’t say you were friends, you had developed a mutual respect for each other. Wanda took longer to warm up (understandable after everything she had been through) but when you told her about the time you had spent in Sokovia, she quickly came out of her shell, and the two of you would often stay up through the night reminiscing about your homes. Even Barnes had softened once he got a look at your weapons room and you took it out to the Fjord to test out some next gen tech Shuri had sent you.

The only problem was Rogers.

No matter what you tried, it seemed that every time you got near him his hackles went up. You could feel him watching you constantly, and whenever you met his gaze, he would simply clench his jaw and stalk off like a cat.

“He’s just overprotective.” Nat always said. “He’s a big papa bear protecting his cubs. He’ll warm up.”

You snapped back to the present as Vis and Wanda wandered into the gym chatting idly. She had convinced him to join her out in the snow for a brisk hike, and was now laughing lightly as she brushed a dusting of soft flakes off his shoulders. Bucky was working his way down from the weights level, patting his neck dry with a towel. You heard the pounding on the bags stop, and glanced over to see Rogers unwrapping his hands as he stared at you, but this time he didn’t break eye contact when you met his gaze.

Those deep blue eyes disarmed you, and you lost your concentration for a split second. Nat seized her opportunity and crawled up your back, wrapping he legs around your neck and shoulders to try to get you into a submissive position. You tried to regain your composure, but your instincts kicked in for just a moment, and when you drove yourself back into the mat to break her hold, you landed quite a bit harder than you intended and thought you heard a snap as she gasped out in pain.

“Shit, Nat you good?” You scrambled onto your knees and looked at your friend with concern. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Rogers striding over, jaw clenched and brow furrowed. Vis and Wanda stopped their conversation to glance over and Bucky moved quickly to intercept his best friend with a hand on his chest.

Nat broke the tension with a laugh, and everyone in the room relaxed. “God, Y/N, guess you’re still an aggro bitch. I though I might’ve had you for once.”

“Jesus, Nat. I’m sorry, lemme grab you some ice. Anything broken?”

“Don’t think so, just a bruised ego. Look at you, you haven’t even broken a sweat.”

You tossed a pack to her from the freezer, along with her typical post spar electrolyte drink. She gave you a wink as she pressed the pack to her ribs, and you could only shake your head at her.

“Steve, you wanna take over for me?” She said to the large man who was now leaning against one of the windows, only half listening as Barnes tried to distract him, while glaring at you.

You both snapped your heads around to stare at her and started protesting over each other while she grinned back and forth between you.

“That’s probably not a great idea…”

“Don’t want to hurt her…”

“Oh my god, you two are ridiculous. Y/N, you obviously still have to work out your birthday issues, and Steve, you’ve been complaining for the past 3 weeks that me and Buck are getting too predictable.”

“Y/N, it’s your birthday? We should bake you a cake!” Wanda exclaimed, always the little ray of sunshine.

“That’s ok Wand, please don’t.”

“Should we perhaps sing?” Vision was now adding his two cents to the discussion.

“No singing. Thank you, so much, for that, Nat.”

“She’s right Rogers, you’ve been looking pretty bored during our sessions, change of pace might be good for you.”

While you were eternally grateful to Bucky for getting the topic off of your birthday, you really didn’t think Rogers was going to go for this.

“Fine, we’ll give it a shot.”

You looked at him with surprise, but gave a shrug and nodded. You definitely still needed something to take your mind off the day. You loved Nat, but always felt the need to hold back during your sessions, and it might be nice to take the safety off.

Nat looked like the cat that ate the canary for some unknown reason, as she giggled and clapped her hands before setting down onto one of the stools to observe. Bucky looked relieved as he leaned back against the wall, chugging the contents of his water bottle. Wanda and Vis went back to their flirty conversation, content to let you two do your own thing.

You unzipped your hoody and threw it to the side, stretching your neck and bouncing on the balls of your feet to loosen up. Rogers looked you over, eyes lingering over your tattoos that you realized he’d never seen since most of them were easily covered by a long sleeve shirt. He pulled his own sweatshirt over his head, and you had a hard time not taking a second to appreciate just how good his torso looked in a simple grey tee.

“Jesus, you two, just get to it.”

The look you shot Nat was pure poison. You weren’t sure what her game was, but you’d be sure to break out the vodka later tonight and get it out of her.

You squared up with the captain, keeping a loose stance on the balls of your feet while he brought up his fists and shrugged his shoulders.

His first strike seemed sluggish, and you slapped it aside easily, frowning at him. He shuffled forward, throwing a few more jabs that you also dodged. Was he holding back on you?

The next few shots he tried to take all but confirmed it; he was pulling his punches. You ducked around them easily, starting to get frustrated. You stepped inside his reach and delivered three quick strikes to his abdomen, followed by an open-handed push to the center of his chest, causing him to take two steps backwards.

His eyes narrowed at you. He was just hoping to get Nat and Buck off his back. Nat had been trying to get him to interact with you for months, but there was something about you that set off warning bells in his head. He trusted Nat and Nat trusted you, which should have been good enough, but he couldn’t get over the thought that there was something dangerous about you that he couldn’t figure out. He’d hoped that a quick spar would appease Nat and get whatever was bugging him about you out of his system, but he had expected you to be on Nat’s level of physicality. The contemptuous way you slapped his blows aside, and the way you got under his guard fast, only made him more wary.

You saw him adjust his stance and tucked in his arms, and gave him a small smirk as you stepped back and raised your fists again.

He moved forward quickly this time, throwing a quick combo of punches aimed at your head and torso and trying to get his arms around you for a hold. You still dodged his strikes easily and when he tried to put you in a hold, you delivered a swift knee to the juncture of his waist on his left side, dancing back again.

His long hair had fallen into is eyes at this point, and when he straightened back up, the look of appraisal he gave was laced with frustration.

Your breathing was still even and relaxed, and Nat had been right, you hadn’t broken a sweat at all in the past 45 minutes. You loosely rolled one tattooed shoulder and gave him a grin, practically begging him to try again.

He clenched his jaw and rushed you. You kept dodging his blows or batting them aside but when he brought his foot around suddenly you moved a little too slow and felt it glance off your cheekbone. He took advantage of your brief surprise and moved behind you whip fast, wrapping one arm around your neck as he braced the other around your right shoulder and he tried to force you to the ground. You sprung your legs off the mat, raising them above your waist before swinging them back down as you got your left hand behind his head and grabbed the back of his tee, then used your momentum to fling him over your shoulders and toss him 15 feet across the room.

He shot up fast and turned back to with a look of complete shock on his face as he crouched into a protective stance. He stared at you like that for a beat before clenching his jaw and straightening up, rolling his head to right.

You followed his line of sight, perplexed. Bucky had jolted off of the wall and looked ready for a fight, flicking his gaze between you and Rogers. Wanda was staring at you with surprise, but was still relaxed. Vis looked at everyone around the room in confusion, trying to understand where the sudden tension had come from. The only person who seemed unfazed by what happened was Nat, all doe eyed innocence as she sipped her drink, not making eye contact with you or Rogers.

Poor Sam chose this moment to wander in. “Hey, Y/N, I heard it’s your b-day. You ready for me to drink you under… What happened?”

“Fuck’s sake Nat, you didn’t tell them.” You hissed at her.

“It didn’t really seem important, Y/N. Besides, it’s your secret.”

“Not a secret Nat. Jesus.”

“Someone want to tell me what the fuck I missed?” Sam was still flicking his gaze around the room, trying to figure out what was happening.

“Y/N just threw Steve across the room like a ragdoll.” Bucky said.

“Oh, word? Interesting.” Sam said.

“Someone want to explain this situation to me, slowly?” Rogers was looking murderously between you and Nat, and you honestly could have killed her yourself.

“Oh, did everyone not know about Y/N’s brain implants?”

All of you looked at Vision when he piped up, and he got a grin on his face like he had just solved an especially difficult puzzle.

“Baby, I think it’s safe to say only you and Nat knew.” Wanda whispered to him.

“But wasn’t that why we came here? Y/N has been hiding from multiple governments for years and her expertise has been very helpful in shielding us from both the United Nations and Stark industries.”

“Yeah, honey, just assume that you’re the only one who knows what you’re talking about.” Wanda said exasperatedly.

“Oh, well then, Y/N was part of an experimental program run by HYDRA under the guise of SHIELD during the 1990s where adolescents received brain implants designed by Dr. Emil Zola to increase sensory perception, decrease pain receptors, and specifically, maximize the efficiency of fast twitch muscle fibers via the phosphagen system, allowing use of these muscles for longer periods of time without negative effects. This was of course after multiple failed trials with a new super soldier serum.

“The program’s graduates were deployed at the beginning of the second Gulf War, purportedly to hunt terrorists, but were also used as HYDRA’s own assassination squad in the eastern hemisphere. The program was discontinued at the end of 2007 and it was thought that all the graduates were culled, but Y/N simply disappeared on mission at the Wakandan border. I admit, I was a bit surprised when she greeted us as she’s presumed dead by most intelligence agencies, but I thought her history was the reason we chose this location. Did I miss anything?” Vis looked at you with genuine interest.

“No that’s pretty much it, thanks.” You said flatly, running a hand over your face.

“See, not that big of a deal.” Nat shrugged.

“Well, Vis and I are going to head to bed.” Wanda chirped up, looking nervously between you, Nat, and the two super soldiers who were now staring at you again. She ushered Vision out of the room quickly and shushed him as he tried to ask if he had done something wrong.

“You really didn’t think this is something I might have wanted to know Nat?” Steve had now turned his attention back to your friend, murder written all over his face.

“No, Steve. Like I said, this is Y/N’s business and it changes literally nothing about how much I trust her. I can’t help it that you got your panties in a bunch over some perceived threat when I told you over and over again that I would willingly put my life in her hands in any situation.”

“You should have told them Nat.” You shook your head at her. She was still playing some sort of game, you could tell, but you didn’t know what.

“Ok, fine, I’m sorry. I just didn’t think you wanted the drama, or to have Barnes look at you like some little lost lamb.”

“Aw geez, Buck, stop looking at me like that or I’m going to punch you. I’m fine.”

“Ahm, sorry.” Bucky’s look of overwhelming sympathy would have been heartbreaking if it had been directed at anybody but you, and you really couldn’t handle that right now. “I’m here to talk if you ever need it.”

“Thanks, Barnes.”

“Besides, you and Steve are both in desperate need of a good fuck, and I thought an impromptu discovery like this would give you the push you need.”

And there it was.

“Well, I’m going to have to make it a rain check on those birthday drinks Y/N, look at the time, it’s… 6 PM. Let’s go Barnes.” Sam was now looking everywhere except at you and Rogers as he did his best to drag Bucky, who was doubled over crying with laughter, out of the gym.

You and Steve glared at Nat as she just sat there grinning, looking overly pleased with herself. A flush was creeping up Rogers neck as his fists tightened and loosened. You could see his jaw clenching under his beard and the tendons on his neck stand out in a look of absolute fury.

“You are such a meddling bitch, Romanoff.” You growled at her. Sure, it had been a while, but you were plenty capable of taking care of yourself, which you had told her after she plied you with three bottles of good Russian vodka.

“Yep.” She hopped off her stool and tossed her ice pack into the freezer. “I’m gonna leave you two to it. Talk, fight, fuck, do something. Your sexual tension is bringing down the vibe.”

She easily dodged the kettle bell you lobbed at her head with a laugh as she scurried out of the gym, closing the door behind her.

After about a minute of uncomfortable silence, you and Rogers turned back to each other. His face was no longer bright red as he looked at you, but you noticed something new in his gaze. His pupils were dilated as he peered at you through the hair that had fallen into his eyes. His breathing was deeper as he stepped closer and looked down at you. You were quite a bit taller than Nat, but still only came up to his eyes. He had moved his gaze to your chest, which was rising and falling in a slightly faster rhythm as he took you in, before moving it to your lips, then back up to your eyes.

“Wanna talk?” he asked.

“Nope.”

“Fight?”

“OK.”

You both took several steps back, retreating to your corners. Some unspoken agreement passed between you and Steve ripped off his t-shirt and sweatpants, until he was down to only his boxer briefs. You removed your sweats as well until you stood there in your sports bra and boy shorts. Neither of you examined whether you were doing this to increase your range of motion or for some other, hungrier reason.

You gazed at each other for a beat, drinking each other in. Steve rolled his broad shoulders and neck, bending from side to side briefly as you watched the muscles in his abdomen tighten and relax as he stretched. You reached your arms over your head before folding yourself over to wrap your arms around the backs of your thighs, twisting yourself to loosen your back muscles and feeling his eyes on you the whole time.

After straightening back up, you each gave each other a swift nod then rushed forward wordlessly.

You managed to gain the upper hand first when you vaulted over him as he dove at you, wrapping one arm around his throat as you carried your momentum and brought him to the ground, coiling your legs around his torso like a snake and stretching his right arm out with yours, pinning it in place.

He reached his left arm over his shoulder and punched you in the face.

You let go of him with a grunt and rolled up quickly, but he was able to get behind you and grabbed your left wrist with his right hand, hauling you over his shoulder while his left arm wrapped around your thigh and he drove you backwards into the mat, knocking the air out of your lungs before rolling over to try to pin you.

You got one leg between the two of you and drove your foot into the center of his chest, sending him flying across the room to crash into the free weights. You didn’t give him a chance to recover before charging back into him driving a fist into first his ribs, then his hip and causing him to buckle over before you wrapped one knee around his chest and rolled forward, slamming him into the ground so hard the floor cracked as you went to straddle him.

He caught your knee and carried you into a kneeling position before throwing you into the sandbags with enough force to knock one loose. You landed heavily and grabbed a kettle bell, whipping at him. He barely dodged it as he covered his head and it glanced off his forearm, giving you enough time to rush forward.

He caught you in the center of the mat and twisted you over him until you were pinned; one of your wrists in each of his hands above your head, legs wrapped around your thighs forcing them apart as he pressed his whole body weight into you.

You stopped struggling finally and stared up at him. You both were breathing heavily and covered in sweat. Steve’s hair was falling into his eyes, which were now lust blown as he stared at your lips. You could feel the muscles in his torso twitching against you as he held you in place.

He suddenly released your wrists without a word, and brought one hand behind your head to pull your mouth to his hungrily. His tongue ran along your lower lip and you opened yourself up to him, sighing into his mouth.

His other hand worked its way down your back as his legs loosened their hold on yours and he pressed your hips into his. You felt him start to grind his hardened cock into your mound and let out a low moan. He growled into your lips before releasing your head and started to kiss and bite his way down your neck, drawing soft whimpers from you as he did.

When he reached the tops of your breasts he pulled away from you suddenly to skim one hand up your abdomen before hooking three fingers under the edge of your sports bra and slowly drawing it over your head, eyes boring into yours as he did so. Once his obstacle had been removed, he nuzzled his face into the valley between your tits before gently sucking a bruise there as his beard scratched against your skin. He then moved his mouth to first your right nipple, then your left; rolling them between his teeth and tongue as you pressed your chest further into his face with a gasp.

He continued his downward journey, dipping his tongue into your navel before he reached the top of your shorts. He slowly drew them down your thighs and off until you were laying underneath him, fully bare and wanton, your cunt clenching around nothing as he stared up at you, resting his chin on your lower abdomen as his eyes asked you a silent question and you nodded, almost imperceptibly.

He drew your knees over his shoulders and pulled you down until his beard was flush against your mound. He nuzzled into the soft hair there before kissing the inside of your thighs slowly, his beard scratching the soft skin there as he gently ran the edge of his teeth up to your juncture then back down at an agonizingly slow pace. When you felt him breathe against your entrance, you wrapped one hand in his hair and moaned, and when his tongue found your clit you screamed and arched your back into him.

His tongue slowly circled your clit as he brought up his right hand and brushed his pointer and middle fingers through your arousal slowly, before inserting one finger into your pussy at a deliciously slow pace. You felt him smile against you as you moaned, wrapping your thighs around his neck as he moved in and out, curling his finger against that soft, spongy spot over and over again before adding another finger.

His tongue had stopped drawing it’s slow circles and was now pressing and releasing against you at faster intervals, causing your breath to hitch in your chest as you writhed against his face. He held a third finger at the edge of your entrance and when you pressed yourself into it, he inserted it into your canal, stretching you so good you let out a thin whine. He shook his head back and forth quickly but gently, adding a brand new sensation before he began to suck on your clit.

All the breath rushed out of you at once as you brought your second hand to press his head further into you. His fingers were fucking into you fast now and you felt the tension in your abdomen building as he alternated between sucking and licking at the small bundle of nerves. When he finally latched on, at the same time he curled all three fingers against your g-spot, you came apart around him, screaming his name as your thighs wrapped around his head like a vise as every muscle in your back tightened, thrusting your torso off the mat violently before you sank back down, relaxing as Steve helped you ride it out.

His name was the first thing either of you had said in almost 15 minutes, and he didn’t want to break the silence now. He was afraid if either of you spoke, you’d break the spell that seemed to have settled over you. Instead of saying anything, he gently pulled you down until you were straddling his waist, then nuzzled his face into the juncture between your neck and shoulder before resting his forehead on yours and staring into your eyes.

You looked back at him, blinking slowly as you moved your hands down to his hips and slipping your fingers under the edge of his boxer briefs. You slipped them over his hips slowly, and you felt his legs shifting in between yours as he moved himself to help you remove them, never breaking eye contact with you. You matched each other’s breathing as he shifted his hips and lined himself up at your entrance, his eyes giving you a pleading look. You shifted your hips closer to him, and he slowly breached you with his tip, closing his eyes as he did so and letting out a low moan from the back of his throat. He started thrusting into you slowly, trying not to collapse on top of you as he held himself back.

You brought your face up to his and slowly kissed him, gently drawing your tongue along the outside of his lips. The hand you didn’t have buried in his hair moved to his lower back and pressed him into you further, and you softly whispered against his mouth “Please…”

He let out a feral growl and settled his full weight on top of you as his hands moved from their supportive positions. One moved underneath you to hold you against him as he fucked into you fast, the other buried itself in your hair as he wrenched your head back and ran his teeth over your throat, nipping at the small hollow at its base. His hand on your back tilted your hips so each drive of his brought him flush against your clit, and you started breathlessly whimpering as he drove into you at a punishing speed.

Your second orgasm came almost without warning. You felt yourself flutter around him one moment when he suddenly tilted your hips just right and you were seeing stars, your body spasming as an uncontrollable wave of pleasure crashed over you repeatedly.

Steve still wasn’t finished though. He gave you a kiss like a starving man before pulling out of you suddenly. You groaned at the loss before he flipped you over fast and slammed back into you, causing you to let out a cry as his tip kissed your cervix.

He maneuvered you into the position he wanted quickly; one knee hooked over his leg and brought up close to your side with your other leg stretched behind you. He brought one arm underneath you to wrap a massive hand around your throat while the other tangled itself in your hair and drew your head back enough for him to kiss you hard, shoving his tongue down your throat as he continued to drive into you.

You had another orgasm almost immediately. Your pussy was fluttering and clenching like crazy as your body almost vibrated with pleasure. Steve still wasn’t slowing down and you were having so much trouble catching your breath you were worried you were going to pass out. You couldn’t stop driving your hips back into him though, matching his pace and feeling the tension in your core begin to gather again. You rolled your eyes back in your head and let out a thin whimper as you moved a hand between your thighs, trying to gain some sort of control over your own pleasure before your brain short-circuited.

Steve ripped your fingers from your throbbing clit with a growl and replaced them with his own, drawing harsh circles around the overstimulated bundle as you gasped and whimpered. He moved the hand he had at your throat to cup your chin, and tugged at your bottom lip with his thumb. You opened your mouth to gently nip at the rough pad as you felt his hips start to stutter, and he when he bit into your shoulder harshly you let out a scream and came apart violently, shaking underneath him uncontrollably.

His own release was right behind yours, and you felt his hot spend coating your insides as you fluttered around him and he wordlessly roared into your ear. He collapsed on top of you, burying his face in your neck and breathing deeply as he moved his hand from your face to softly cup your breast, lazily rolling one nipple in between his fingers and you came down from your respective highs.

You felt him softening inside you as you started to untangle yourselves. He slowly pulled out and you let out a small sigh at the loss of him. You heard him groan as he caught the sight of his cum slowly leaking out of your swollen cunt, and he left a slow trail of kisses down your spine before gently turning you over.

You wrapped one hand around the back of his neck and pulled your face up to his, kissing him deeply as your other hand trailed through the hair on his chest before coming to rest on his abdomen. He rested his forehead against yours again as you both got your breathing under control, before he broke out in an absolutely sinful grin.

You both started laughing then, the previous tension completely broken as you buried your face in his neck and he held you close to him, shaking with laughter.

“Oh my god, I really did need a good fuck.” You said breathlessly, tears leaking down your cheeks.

“Yeah, well I’d say we shouldn’t give Nat the satisfaction of knowing she’s right but I doubt she wasn’t listening in this whole time.”

“Jesus, of course she was. She’ll never stop meddling now.”

He grunted in agreement before giving you a brief kiss to the top of your head, then you separated yourselves to stumble around and locate your clothes.

The gym was an absolute wreck. Aside from the crack in the floor, the weight racks had fallen over in a domino effect after you had kicked Steve into one and two of the sandbags were leaking everywhere.

You were both covered in bruises from the sparring session and the stiffness you always felt after overexertion seemed to have multiplied tenfold as you struggled to pull your sweats back on, groaning at how tight your muscles were. Steve seemed to be feeling it as well as he let out a hiss through his teeth when he pulled his sweatshirt back over his head.

Once you were both dressed, he stalked over to you like a cat and wrapped his arms around your waist and pulling you in for one more kiss.

“Guess we should go face the rest of them.” He said, resigned.

You groaned as he dragged you out of the gym, hand in hand, to endure what you were sure was going to be a chorus of cat calls and innuendos, but when the two of you arrived in the living area, it was just Nat curled up on the sofa, giving the two of you a satisfied smirk.

“Where is everyone?” You asked her, looking around to see if maybe they had moved into the kitchen.

Nat threw back her head and laughed. “Oh they all ran out into the snow once you two really got started. I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone look as embarrassed as Bucky did in my entire life. He forgot his shoes.” She was crying with laughter.

“Outside, Nat, it’s freezing out there!” The sun had already gone down with how late in the year it was and once that happened, the temperature would drop severely.

“I told them but they couldn’t handle it. Bunch of prudes.”

“Yeah, while you sat here and listened, you pervert.” You and Steve started pulling on boots and coats to head out after them.

“I’m the pervert! While you two had the world’s loudest fuckfest less than 20 feet away from the rest of your housemates, hey!” You had thrown her coat at her face and she caught it to shrug around her shoulders. “They probably had to go out five miles before they weren’t able to hear you.”

Steve growled at her as he ripped the front door open and headed out with you on his heels.

“Oh, you’re welcome by the way! It sure would be nice to get some appreciation for your birthday gift, Y/N… shit.”

Steve had lobbed a snowball the size of a golden retriever at her that she barely dodged at the last minute, cursing under her breath.

Steve wrapped an arm around you as you headed out into the fields to find your poor housemates and apologize, nuzzling himself into your hair with a grin. “Happy birthday.” He murmured to you, giving you a quick kiss before ruining the moment by bellowing “Barnes, get your dumbass back here, you forgot your boots!”

You grinned at him, looking up at the sky where the borealis had started and thinking that maybe birthdays weren’t so bad after all.

#chris evans smut #smut #steve rogers #nomad steve #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x you #steve rogers x y/n #writing

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yelena-bellova · 3 years

Text

Safe Haven: tfatws!Bucky Barnes x fem!reader

chapter three - Chapter Four: Madripoor - chapter five

Series Masterlist

Plot: Y/n, Sam and Bucky pay an eventful visit to Helmut Zemo in Berlin, heading to Madripoor soon after to get answers about the serum.

Word Count: 7.4k

Warnings: spoilers for episode.3, angst, violence, description of injuries, a few crumbs for the slow burn, breaking the law and looking good doing it

A/N: These chapters always end up being so long lol. I was going to include the nightclub scene but it would’ve made it too long so sorry, it’ll have to wait a few more days. Forgive my shitty Russian translations, I’m on Google Translate and that’s not saying a lot.

----

“Not that it makes a difference, but I still don’t like this.” I’d voiced my displeasure about meeting with Zemo several times since we’d arrived in Germany. Even though we were already being led through the high security Berlin prison hallways, I still felt the urge to state my opinion.

The guard that was guiding us gestured towards a door, “He’s just through the corridor.”

“Give us a sec,” Bucky said, the three of us coming to a halt in the middle of the hall. “I’m gonna go in alone.” “Why?” Sam asked.

“You’re an Avenger, you know how he feels about that,” Bucky looked to me, “You, I’m trying to keep as far away from him as possible.”

“It’s not like you two were known for frolickin’ in the sun together,” Sam remarked.

“I’m gonna say it again,” I took an assertive step forward, “I don’t like this.”

“He was obsessed with HYDRA,” Bucky pushed, “We have a history together. Trust me, I got it.”

Taking my cue from Sam, who didn’t fight him any more, I nervously watched Bucky stalk down the hallway to the corridor that led to our possible next step.

“Is he really okay?” I asked, watching Bucky’s figure until he disappeared, “I feel like we’re going a little too far with this.” “He’s invested, which means he’s desperate,” Sam answered, leaning his back against the wall, “This is a little too much though.”

I copied his posture and we stood in silence, the occasional guard passing by. “What happened last night after I left the room? C’mon, you come out crying and you thought I was gonna let it go?” “Bucky and I were just…” I sighed, remembering the change that had happened between our two conversations, “Learning to get along. I told him about Steve, that’s never fun to relive.” “Ah,” Sam nodded, “Can I ask you something?”

“Hm?” “You’re not mad at me that I gave up the shield, are you?”

My brows knitted together as I looked over at him, “Why would I be mad? Your decision wouldn’t have changed even if I was, would it?” “No, it wouldn’t have. But you were close to Steve too, you care about his legacy,” he went on, “We’re all angry about Walker. I don’t care if Bucky’s upset at me, but I always care if you are.” “Someone ever tell you you care too much sometimes?” I playfully nudged his sneaker with my own, “Of course I’m not mad, you know I support you no matter what. You made the right decision for you and you have nothing to apologize for. Bucky and even Steve don’t need to understand why you chose to give it up. Would it have been cool to say that my brother is Captain America?” I coaxed a laugh out of him, “Of course, but it doesn’t change how I see you. I’m just proud to say my brother is Sam Wilson.” He poked me with his elbow and smiled, “Now I remember why I keep you around.” “Y/n Y/l/n, Falcon’s Ego Booster.” We were sharing a laugh when Bucky came back around the corner. “That was quick,” I observed. He’d been in there five minutes tops.

“We’ve got our next stop.”

————

“What are you talking about? You wanna break Zemo outta jail?” Sam questioned in the dark, “Where are we, Buck? Have you lost your mind?”

“We have no leads, no moves, nothing,” Bucky replied, shining his flashlight around to try and find the power switch. I couldn’t clearly make out where he had brought us to, he’d brought us through the back door of the building. “So because we’ve hit one dead end, you want to spring one of the most dangerous men in the world out of prison?” I asked, shining my flashlight at Bucky causing him to throw a hand up to shield his eyes, “Bucky, I don’t-“ “Like this,” he finished, “I got that, but we’ve got eight Super Soldiers on the loose.” “Zemo’s gonna miss with our minds, especially yours,” Sam interjected, “No offense.” I made out Bucky’s silhouette reaching up a beam, a loud click of a switch and the lights began to turn on. “Offense,” he scowled.

With the lights on, we could finally see that we were in an auto shop. I was glad to be out of the prison but I wasn’t seeing the correlation between it and freeing Zemo.

“Super Soldiers go against everything he believes in,” Bucky continued, “He is crazy, but he still has a code.” “I’ve been on the wrong side of that code and so have you,” Sam countered, I’d heard in detail about the havoc Zemo had caused and the ramifications of his actions had caused Sam and Steve to become fugitives. Never mind what he’d done to Bucky…”He blew up the UN, he killed King T’Chaka and framed you for it. Did you forget that? You think the Wakandans forgot about it? It’s a rhetorical question, they didn’t. I know why this matters to you, but it’s pushing you off the deep end.”

Bucky stood in front of us now, “We don’t know how they’re gettin’ the serum. We don’t even know how many of them there are,” Sam turned his back in frustration, “Look, let me just walk you two through a hypothetical. Can I walk you through a hypothetical?”

“What did you do?” Sam asked suspiciously, turning halfway to meet Bucky’s eyes.

“I didn’t…” Bucky’s looked away briefly, “Do anything.”

“Then by all means,” I leaned up against a beam and crossed my arms, not believing him at all, “Let’s ride the hypothetical train.” Bucky frowned at my sarcasm before launching into it, “The weakest point in any system isn’t the software, the hardware, it’s the meatware. The human element. Now, in this lockup, it’s nine to one, prisoners to guards. And if two prisoners start fighting, then the protocol says four guards have to respond.” “So why would two prisoners randomly start fighting at that moment?” Sam asked.

“Who knows? There could be many reasons…But the point is, these things escalate. Lockdown procedures would have to be initiated and with all those bodies flying around left and right, wouldn’t be hard to slip down a hallway or two. And if the fire alarm got tripped while the prisoners were being separated, someone could use the chaos to their advantage.”

“My gut is sounding off every alarm it has right now,” I commented from my place across from Bucky.

“Yeah, I don’t like how casual you’re bein’ about this, this is unnatural,” Sam replied finally, “Are you- and where are we, man?” A nearby door closing caused us to turn our attention towards it, a silhouette appearing soon after through a curtain. The shadow became a man and walked through the cloth divider wearing the face I’d had etched in my brain since the day it hit the news.

“You son of a bitch,” I mumbled, creating a ball of energy quickly with my hands. “Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Sam’s voice rose, walking with me towards the man, “What are you doin’ here?” Bucky was quick to throw himself in front of us, “No, listen. I didn’t want to tell you ‘cause I knew neither of you would let this happen.” “What the hell did you do?” I exclaimed.

“We need him,” Bucky said. Sam pointed to Zemo, “You’re going back to prison!”

“If I may,” the Sokovian man began, removing the hat of his stolen prison guard uniform.

“NO!” the three of us yelled at the same time. He hung his head, “Apologies…” Bucky turned back to Sam, “When Steve refused to sign the Sokovia Accords, you backed him. You broke the law, and you stuck your neck out for me,” when Sam averted his gaze, Bucky chased it, “I’m asking you to do it again.”

“And what about her?” Sam gestured to me and the ball of energy I still had formed in my palms, “What happens when she breaks the law?” Bucky’s pleading eyes drifted to me, “He’s our only shot at getting any answers.” My mind was wrestling with itself, his rightness was inevitably going to come at a cost we would all have to pay. On a technicality, yes, I could plead innocent to freeing Zemo. A coconspirator charge, I wouldn’t be so lucky with. But stopping the Flag Smashers meant saving lives and that wasn’t something I could walk away from. I deformed the energy in my hands in cautious surrender, “I’m already breakin’ the law by going against the accords, I need to make it worth it at least.” Sam shot me an exasperated glance, but he didn’t fight me.

“I really think I’m invaluable…” Zemo began from his corner.

“Shut up…” Sam warned, effectively shutting him up. Sam thought it all over for a second before pressing his flashlight to Bucky’s chest, “Okay. If we do this, you don’t make a move without our permission.” Zemo shrugged, “Fair.”

The three of us shared an uneasy look, there was no going back now. “Okay, Zemo, where do we start?”

“Follow me,” he smiled, leading the way out of the auto shop and expecting us to follow. Sam went first, eager to keep his eye on Zemo at all times while Bucky and I brought up the rear.

“I didn’t want to have to go this route,” he said from beside me as if he owed me some explanation for his actions. I sighed, trying to shut off the part of my brain that was screaming at me, “Just be right.”

We maneuvered through a few corridors until we hit a room filled with beautiful antique cars. “So our first move is grand theft auto?” Sam asked. “These are mine,” Zemo corrected, “Collected by family over the generations. I spent years hunting people HYDRA recruited to recreate the serum. Because once it’s out there, someone can create an army of people…like the Avengers,” he dug through one of the cars to pull out a bag and coat, “I ended the Winter Soldier program once before. I have no intention to leave my work unfinished.” My eyes unavoidably flickered to Bucky, observing his reaction to hearing his old code name. He simply watched the man continue speaking. “To do this, we’ll have to scale a ladder of lowlifes.”

“Well, join the party. We’ve already started…” Sam commented.

“First stop is a woman named Selby,” Zemo stated as he headed for the exit, “Mid-level fence I still have a line on. From there, we climb.”

Sam, Bucky and I left a gaping distance between us and him, we were still highly suspicious and I had a feeling we would be until our temporary partnership came to an end.

————

Zemo had gotten word to somebody that we’d be meeting them at a private airport in Berlin and flying to someplace called Madripoor. Somehow we’d made the journey without being recognized, even those of us who were wanted across the globe. “So all this time you’ve been rich?” Sam asked as we made our way towards the private plane.

“I’m a Baron, Sam,” Zemo answered, “My family was royalty until your friends destroyed my country.”

Zemo greeted the man standing outside the plane, who was dressed like a butler, in Sokovian. “Well,” I crossed my arms and watched one of the world’s most dangerous men exchange cheek kisses, “If we’re going to work with a criminal, at least we picked one that comes with transportation.” “Please,” Zemo said, gesturing for us to follow him up the plane’s steps. Sam awkwardly bowed to the butler and headed up. Bucky extended a hand towards the jet for me to go ahead of him before following closely behind.

When we filed into the plane, Sam and Zemo were already seated. I moved to take the chair across from the baron, wanting to keep as close an eye on him as I could. Bucky’s flesh arm reached out quickly and grabbed my shoulder, I turned to question him and met his wary expression. “Sit with Sam,” he muttered quietly, our faces close enough that I could feel his breath as he’d spoken. It dawned on me that he wanted me to have the safer position. I answered with a nod, maneuvering around him to sit across from Sam. Even though his hand had left my arm, I could still feel its print through my jacket.

We had been flying for maybe twenty minutes when Zemo’s butler, Oeznik, came in carrying a glass of champagne for Zemo and offering to whip up some food. It astounded me how to the world, he was evil yet to his servants, he was a joy. “You don’t know what it’s like to be locked in a cell,” the baron said before looking over at my brother, “Oh, that’s right. You do.”

Sam bypassed the jab remarkably, “Why don’t you tell us about where we’re going?”

“I’m sorry, I was just fascinated by this,” Zemo held up a book, “I don’t know what to call it, but this part seems to be important. Who is Nakajima?”

Not two seconds after the name had left his lips, Bucky out of his seat with his metal hand wrapped around Zemo’s neck. My heart stopped as I watched him lean over the man threateningly. “If you touch that book again,” he growled, “I’ll kill you.” This was a side of Bucky I had yet to see, the one that straddled the line between his dark past and his true self. As he sat back down, tucking the book in his pocket and refusing to meet my eyes, I could tell he wasn’t pleased with how he’d acted. I wasn’t in a place to criticize but I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t been slightly worried when his fingers hit Zemo’s skin.

“I’m sorry,” Zemo said, “I understand that list of names. People you’ve wronged as the Winter Soldier.” “Don’t push it,” Bucky rasped, collecting himself after the scene.

“I’ve seen that book,” Sam spoke up, “It was Steve’s when he came out of the ice. I told him about Trouble Man, he wrote it in that book. Did you hear it? What’d you think?” “I like ’40’s music,” Bucky shrugged and looked out the window, “So…” “You didn’t like it?” Sam exclaimed.

“I liked it,” Bucky replied unconvincingly.

“It is a masterpiece, James,” Zemo chimed in, his hands forming a triangle, “Complete, comprehensive…It captures the African-American experience.” While my brows raised at the European’s surprising education, Sam’s furrowed. “He’s out of line, but he’s right. It’s great, everybody loves Marvin Gaye.”

Bucky shook his head, “I like Marvin Gaye.” “Steve adored Marvin Gaye.” “He did,” I chuckled, reminiscing back to only last year, “Played him almost anytime I got in a car with him.” “You must have really looked up to Steve,” Zemo said, “But I realized something when I met him. The danger with people like him, America’s Super Soldiers, is that we put them on pedestals.” “Watch your step, Zemo…” Sam warned. “They become symbols. Icons. And then we start to forget about their flaws. From there,” he shrugged, “Cities fly, innocent people die. Movements are formed, wars are fought,” Zemo turned his attention to Bucky, “You remember that, right?” As a young soldier sent to Germany to stop a mad icon. Do we want to live in a world full of people like the Red Skull? That is why we’re going to Madripoor.” “What’s up with Madripoor?” Sam looked between the two men, “You guys talk about it like it’s Skull Island.”

“It’s an island nation in the Indonesian archipelago,” Bucky grumbled, “It was a pirate sanctuary back in the 1800s.” “It’s kept its lawless ways, but we cannot exactly walk in as ourselves,” Zemo’s unsettling eyes moved back to Bucky, “James, you will have to become someone you claim is gone.”

With the way Bucky’s expression had changed in mere seconds from complacent to tortured, it didn’t take long to decode what Zemo was insinuating. “No,” I blurted out, “That’s not fair to ask of him.” “I admire your devotion, Y/n,” Zemo complimented with his lips to his champagne flute, taking a quick sip, “But you know nothing of how Madripoor works. If you want to get to Selby, we must have protection. More than that, we must have leverage. James can provide us both by simply playing a part.” “Devo-?” I shook my head, sidestepping Zemo’s comment, “That’s not playing a part, that’s like reliving every nightmare you’ve ever had. I-it’s like-“ “Y/n,” I turned to see Bucky’s chair rotated towards me, looking helpless and determined all at once, “We need in.” “Yeah, but…” I started to protested before seeing his eyes, those ocean blue eyes I was growing to feel comforted by begging me to let the subject go. I clenched my own y/e/c ones shut in frustration, “Okay.” “Now that that’s settled,” Zemo stood from his seat, “I will find us something to change into, we will need to blend in where we’re going.” ——

The silver dress Zemo had chosen for me was…it made me wonder just what kind of scene we were planning to enter. It was more revealing than anything I typically wore, but gorgeous nonetheless and fit perfectly.

As I was finishing my makeup in the bathroom of the plane, I had to take a second to steel myself for what was to come. This wasn’t just dallying with Super Soldiers any more, this was dancing with the criminal underworld. Zemo hadn’t told us yet the roles we were playing, only that we needed to stay in character at all cost. I had never felt more out of my depth, but had no choice but to rise to the occasion. Giving myself one last check in the mirror, I unlocked and exited the bathroom.

“Okay, I hope whoever I’m playing is bad with heels,” I held up the elaborate shoes Zemo had matched to my dress, “Because there’s no way I’m going to be graceful in these.” Sam looked up from tying his dress shoes, dressed in a maroon suit patterned with yellow circles. His eyes scanned my outfit unapprovingly. “Uh uh,” he protested, going full protective big brother, “Nope. It shows too much.” “It doesn’t matter what it shows,” I said, bending over to strap on the shoes, “It’s what I’ve got.” “She’s right,” Zemo chimed in, putting his jacket on, “You two are supposed to be rich, glamorous travelers of the world. You need to look the part,” he nodded towards me, “You wear it well.” I politely smiled at the baron and looked up to Bucky, perched in the far corner of the jet. His gaze was fixed on me, eyes quickly traveling down my body before quickly locking with mine. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed hard, his plush lips parted ever so slightly. I found myself just as drawn into him as he seemed to be with me, for a few seconds it was just the two of us shutting our surroundings out. It was…something. “You look nice,” Bucky finally said, his voice slightly strained.

My lips quirked upwards, “Thanks.” “It is time for us to leave,” Zemo announced, bursting the bubble Bucky and I had built, “You’d better get used to those shoes quickly, we’ll be making most of the journey by foot.” He hadn’t been lying. We departed the runway and walked our way towards the city. Madripoor looked beautiful on the outside, the high-rise buildings lit up in all different colors emitting a glow across the waters.

“We have to do something about this,” Sam finally exclaimed, holding the lapels of his patterned maroon suit, “I’m the only one who looks like a pimp.” “If you’re a pimp, what does that make me?” I gestured to the amount of skin I had on display, “Suck it up, Wilson.” “Only an American would assume a fashion-forward black man looks like a pimp,” Zemo added as we crossed the large bridge leading to the city, “You look exactly like the man you’re supposed to be playing. The sophisticated, charming African rake named Conrad Mack, aka the Smiling Tiger.” Sam took Zemo’s phone from his outstretched hand, “He even has a bad nickname.”

I leaned over to look at the picture of Sam’s doppelgänger, “Hey, be nice. That’s your twin you’re talking about.” “And you,” Zemo addressed me, “Conrad is known for entertaining beautiful women, one after the other,” he ignored the faces of disgust Sam and I made at the thought of acting as a couple, “You will be playing tonight’s date, no need to come up with a name or a story as his dates are typically just arm candy.”

“So I’m supposed to just sit and look pretty?” I side eyed Zemo in annoyance, “Great.” “You smell this?” he asked the group.

“Yeah, what is that? Acid?” Sam asked.

“Madripoor,” Zemo answered, “No matter what happens, we have to stay in character. Our lives depend on it. There’s no margin for error. High Town’s that way,” Zemo pointed towards the part of the city I’d been admiring, “Not a bad place if you want to visit, but Low Town’s the other way.” We approached a car waiting for us at the end of the bridge, ready to take us into the darkest part of the city. Bucky, who had remained silent since the plane, climbed into the backseat first while Zemo took the passenger’s side. “Let me guess,” Sam remarked as we moved to get in the car, “We don’t have any friends in High Town.”

“I’m guessing not,” I muttered, ducking into the back seat and sliding till I was pressed against Bucky. He didn’t make a sound, he barely even registered my presence. I was about to ask him if he was alright when I realized what he was doing. We all had our roles to play and Bucky was doing just that.

Sam climbed in next to me and we took off, me sandwiched between the two men trying to convince myself that I could do this. I could pretend to be someone I wasn’t to get answers, but my nerves was convincing me I was going to mess it up for us. No margin for error, Zemo’s words bounced around in my brain. He’d said our lives depended on it. They depended on whether or not I could keep it together. Sam must have sensed my anxiety because I felt his palm slide against my clammy one and squeeze. I sent a shaky one back, taking what comfort I could that I didn’t have to do this alone.

We were escorted in by a motorcade till we got to the seedier part of the city, the bridge we parked under painted with graffiti. Sam helped me out of the car and Zemo took our group through the back way into the city. As we crossed the overhead bridge, looking down into the city, I began to feel like my life had suddenly become some fever dream. Even more so once we entered the city and I was surrounded by people from all walks of life. Smugglers were making deals, guards were stationed outside buildings with machine guns, forgers were trying to sell to people. It was like nothing I’d ever seen. Sam kept me on his arm the entire time, selling our characters while still retaining his protective nature. We followed Zemo into a crowded bar, weaving our way through. “Here we are,” he announced quietly, our fellow patrons took notice as soon as they caught sight of Bucky, “Gotov podchinit'sya, zimniy soldat?” (Ready to comply, Winter Soldier?)

I tried my best to keep my face neutral, though an unwelcome chill went down my spine as Zemo began his act. It was wrong. It wasn’t fair to Bucky or his recovery to make him do this.

We approached the bar and the bartender came over immediately, “Hello, gentlemen. Ma’am. Wasn’t expecting you, Smiling Tiger.” “His plans changed,” Zemo explained, “We have business to do with Selby.”

The bartender looked over suspiciously at Sam, “The usual?” Sam nodded casually in response and the man walked away to begin prepping the drink. What took us by surprise was when he reached for a jar containing a dead snake rather than the bottle of alcohol. He proceeded to lay the reptile on a cutting board and slice its stomach open, I looked up to Sam who was doing his best to keep his composure. “Ah, Smiling Tiger,” Zemo jeered, “Your favorite.”

The bartender removed a piece of the snake’s guts and sunk it into a shot glass filled with vodka. I covered my mouth with my clutch to conceal my delight at the sight I was about to behold. Sam caught the action and addressed the bartender, “You know what? She’ll have one too.” “Oh, no, I don’t think so,” I quickly protested, waving it off as if it were a shot of tequila and not an animal intestine.

“No, girl, I insist,” Sam grinned phonily at me.

“They actually upset my stomach,” I giggled, glancing to the bartender, “Can’t hold my liquor to save my life, I’ll be up all night sick if it touches my lips. But you enjoy, sweetheart.” The bartender didn’t pay much attention to the exchange as he set the shot glass in front of Sam, who looked unconvincingly between the glass and Zemo. “I love these,” he stated, holding it up for us all to see.

“Cheers, Conrad,” Zemo clinked his glass against Sam’s.

Sam made several, hopefully convincing, noises of excitement about his drink. After giving it one last look, he shot it straight down, holding a thumbs up to the bartender afterwards.

“How badly are you trying not to throw up right now?” I whispered after the man had left.

“I can’t even hear you right now,” Sam replied in a strained voice, focusing on keeping the drink where it needed to be. An intimidating bearded man made us all turn around, he looked to Zemo. “I got word from on high. You ain’t welcome here.”

Zemo, ever the cool and collected presence, turned to the man. “I have no business with the Power Broker. But if he insists, he can either come and talk to me…” Zemo gestured to Bucky, standing at his side.

“New haircut?” the man asked Bucky, who stayed silent.

“Or bring Selby for a chat,” Zemo finished.

The man left, leaving us with questions. “A power broker?” Bucky grumbled, “Really?” “Every kingdom needs its king,” Zemo replied, “Let’s just pray we stay under his radar.”

“Do you know him?” Sam inconspicuously asked. “Only be reputation the baron answered, “In Madripoor he is judge, jury, and executioner.”

I spotted another man approaching us, this one walking with a purpose. Zemo looked to Bucky, the show was about to start. “Zimniy Soldat,” Bucky nodded once, “Attask.” (Winter Soldier, attack.) As soon as the stranger thumped Zemo’s shoulder, Bucky sprang to action, his metal hand grabbing and twisting the man’s arm. He pushed him to the center of the room where he proceeded to twist it further before dropping him to the ground. The groans coming from him were sickening as he lay helpless, clutching his most likely broken arm. As another patron came up to attack, Bucky moved fast to disarm him before power kicking him into a table several times. I clung to Sam’s arm even tighter as Zemo shoved someone forward for Bucky to punch, sending him sliding across the floor.

“Didn’t take much for him to fall back into form,” Zemo slyly observed, from my side. It took everything in me not to send him flying across the room right then. He was enjoying this.

When Bucky lifted a man by his throat and slammed him down on the bar was when guns all over the bar were cocked. Sam grabbed onto Bucky’s metal arm, ready to pull him back to us and to reality. “Stay in character,” Zemo whispered, dead serious, “Or the whole bar turns on us.” Sam dropped his arm as Zemo leaned into Bucky, “Molodets, soldat.” (Well done, soldier.)

“Selby will see you now,” the bartender said, watching the scene in awe. Bucky slowly let the man go, gasping and groaning for air once he was freed. Sam looked over warily, “You good?” When Bucky faced us, his eyes met mine before they met Sam’s. I wished I could have concealed my reaction better for his sake, but the second he had attacked was the first time since we’d met that I’d been properly scared of him. It made the incident on the plane look like nothing. My mind knew he was just acting, pretending to be someone he once was for the sake of furthering our mission. But my blood ran just as cold with fear as it would have if the Winter Soldier was standing in front of me. Bucky’s eyes now were watery, filled with pain that he’d worked hard with his therapist to get through, now being brought back to life. Had the bar not been watching and had I not needed to stick with Sam, I’d have been at his side trying to make sure he was alright. Instead, I could only watch as he sniffled, nodded to Sam and followed Zemo to wherever we were going next.

We were escorted upstairs through a series of hallways with a heavily armed guard following us. A white haired woman sat in the middle of the room we were led to, tapping her fingers against the couch she lounged on. “You should know, Baron, people don’t just come into my bar and make demands.” Zemo smiled, “Not a demand. An offer.”

Sam and I took our places standing next to Selby, Bucky stood watch across from us, back in his act.

“A lot has changed since you were here last,” Selby spared a look at Bucky, “By the way, I thought you were rotting away in a German prison. How did you escape?”

“People like us always find a way, don’t we?” Zemo shrugged, “I’m sure you’ve already figured out what I’m here for.”

Selby pointed a blind finger towards Sam, “You’re taller than I’d heard, Smiling Tiger,” she eyed Sam suggestively and gave him a purr before turning her attention to me, “And what a lovely little dish you’ve got with you.” Internally I was struggling to stay calm and had never felt more exposed with the thin materiel of the dress over my body. “What’s the offer?” Selby grinned at Zemo.

“Tell us what you know about the super-soldier serum,” Zemo replied, rising from his seat to circle Bucky, “And I give you him, along with the code words to control him, of course. He will do anything you want,” Zemo rubbed Bucky’s chin, playing with it to provoke him but knowing he could get away with it. I felt sick to my stomach.

“Now that’s the Zemo I remember,” Selby approved, “I’m glad I decided not to kill you immediately. Yeah, you were right to come to me. Arrogant, but right. The super-soldier serum is here in Madripoor. Dr. Wilfred Nagel is the man you wanna thank. Or condemn, depending on what side of this you’re on. The Power Broker had him working on the serum, but…things didn’t go as planned.”

I squeezed Sam’s arm, we were getting answers. The crazy, chaotic plan was actually working. “Is Nagal still in Madripoor?” Zemo asked.

“Oh, the bread crumbs you can have for free,” Selby’s flirtatious demeanor shifted as she stood to business-like, “But the bakery is gonna cost you, Baron. And before you get all cute, don’t think you can find Nagel without me.”

A sudden vibration tickled my arm from Sam’s suit pocket, it was his cell phone. He pulled it out hesitantly and looked down at it, I glanced over to see that it was Sarah calling.

“Answer it,” Selby ordered, Bucky had moved behind her to give us protection if need be, “On speaker.” The armed bodyguards moved in closer, it was clear we had no say in the matter. Sam unlocked his phone and pressed the speaker button, “Hello?” “Hey, um, we need to talk about this situation,” Sarah’s voice filled the air, sending an all too brief wave of peace through me, “It’s been drivin’ me nuts.”

“What situation exactly are you talkin’ about?” Sam replied stiffly. “Are you high? You know what situation, it’s the only situation me and you have.”

“What situation, Sarah?” Sam’s voice grew louder, “Say it.”

“The damn boat,” Sarah replied just as hard, “And watch your tone, okay? I let you slide at the bank.”

Sarah. The boat. Home. And here I was standing in a designer dress meeting with Indonesian crime bosses. Two unbelievable worlds were colliding on the call.

Sam scoffed and nervously chuckling, “Yeah, the bank. Laundered so much, yeah, they’ll come around.” “If that was the case, then why’d they dog you out, Big Time?”

“Yeah, you damn right I’m Big Time. You’ll see,” Sam paused menacingly, “When I have that banker killed.”

We almost had Selby convinced as I watched her pace around the room, we were so close to- “Cass! What’d I tell you about the Cheerios? I don’t have time for this!” Sarah yelled, “Sam, I’m sorry. Let me call you back, and make sure Y/n is with you too.” “Sam? Y/n?” Selby echoed the names, “Who are you? Kill them!”

A second after she had given the order, a bullet shot through the nearby window and struck her chest fatally. The four of us sprung to action, Sam landing punches on the guard stationed behind us while I used my energy to pull the machine gun from his grasp. Across from us, Bucky took care of the other guard. I handed the weapon to Sam and we took our positions in the back of the room, ready to retaliate against the hidden assassin. “They’re gonna pin this on us,” Sam panted, our backs against the wall.

“We have a real problem now,” Zemo said, unbelievably calm for someone in our situation, “So leave your weapons and follow my lead.” Bucky ripped the lock on the back door and the four of us filed down the staircase quick as we could. It dropped us back off in the middle of the city, we hurriedly made our way down the street where all heads were turning to us. “This is not good,” Zemo hurried. The words hung in the air for a grand total of five seconds before bullets started to rain down around us. Bucky, Sam and I tore down the street where in the chaos, Zemo took off in another direction.

“I can’t run in these heels!” Sam yelled over the gunfire. “Oh, I don’t wanna hear it,” I exclaimed, struggling to keep up with them in my stilettos, “Screw it!”

I threw my hands out to my side and lifted off the ground, keeping low enough to dodge any shots but stay close to Sam and Bucky. Two motorcycles sped after us promising more bounty hunters, Zemo caught up with us and killed two lone gunmen hiding behind a dumpster. Two perfectly aimed bullets came out of nowhere and lodged themselves in the heads of the cyclists chasing us.

“You seem to have a guardian angel,” Zemo observed as the three of us looked around for our savior.

“Well, this is too perfect,” a woman’s voice said, she appeared seconds later drawing back her hood and pointing a gun toward us, “Drop it, Zemo.”

Bucky stepped forward disbelievingly, “Sharon?” Sharon Carter. I recognized her only from the pictures I’d seen of her on the news when the shitstorm that branded her an enemy of the state went down. As she strode forward, ready to strike down the man responsible, I couldn’t say with certainty if she was an ally or not. “You cost me everything,” she seethed.

“Sharon, wait,” Sam, ever the steady presence, held a hand out and carefully came towards her, “Someone recreated the super-soldier serum and Zemo had a lead.” “Well, that explains why you guys are here and Selby’s dead.”

“So what are you doing here?” Bucky asked.

“I stole Steve’s shield, remember?” she answered, her face contorting, “I also took the wings for your ass,” she aimed her gun at Sam, “So that you could save his ass,” then at Bucky, “From his ass,” the gun landed on me after Zemo, “Your ass is new.” “I’ve had one hell of an initiation, trust me,” I replied, standing my ground between Bucky and Zemo.

Sharon turned back towards Sam, “Unlike you, I didn’t have the Avengers to back me up so I’m off the grid in Madripoor.”

“Don’t blow that smoke at me, I was on the run, too,” Sam recalled. “Was. Is. Big difference. I don’t speak to my family anymore,” Sharon shook her head sadly, “I can’t. My own father doesn’t know where I am.”

“Listen, Sharon,” Bucky stepped forward, “We need your help. Please.” Sharon mirthlessly chuckled to herself, sighing afterwards as she made her decision. “This isn’t over. I have a place in High Town, you should be safe there for a while.”

While Sam roughly shoved Zemo forward to keep him in his line of sight, Bucky pressed a gentle hand to the small of my back to act as a guide through the dark alleyways. “You okay?” he asked quietly, quickly looking over at me. With everything he’d gone through in the last twenty minutes, the fight in the bar, the unshed tears in his eyes, Zemo talking about him like he was property to be traded, I couldn’t understand why he was asking if I was alright. He was what I was concerned with right now. “I will be once I get out of these shoes,” I joked, trying to get him to smile if at all possible. A corner of his lips turned upwards in a blink-and-you’d-miss-it flash, mine doing the same right after in some sort of relief.

Sharon led us to her car parked down a different alley, Sam shoved Zemo in the front seat while him, Bucky and I squeezed in the backseat once again. The difference between Low Town and High Town was visceral, Madripoor may have been dangerous no matter where you went but High Town provided a little more safety. When we arrived at Sharon’s house, greeted by two burly guards, the feeling of protection increased. The first room we entered was filled with artwork, statues and other priceless works that told us exactly what Sharon had done to afford her lifestyle in High Town.

“Looks like breaking all those laws is treating you well,” Sam commented as we walked through the room.

“Well, I thought if I had to hustle, might as well enjoy the life of a real hustler,” Sharon shrugged, far too goodheartedly for a true criminal, “You know how much I can get for a real Monet?” Sam grinned at his friend, “Deactivate your hustle mood, you sell fake Monets.”

“No, she means real,” Zemo corrected, “This gallery is specialized in stolen artwork. Monet. Van Gogh. Classics.” “I kinda thought that was implied,” I said, following Sharon and Zemo and beginning to relax in the shockingly calm environment, “No offense.” Sharon scoffed, “None taken, a girl’s gotta do what she can to survive. By the way, who are you?”

“Y/n Y/l/n,” I answered, “Sam’s sister.” “Hmm,” Sharon hummed, looking me over once before turning around to hurry Sam and Bucky along, “Come on, you guys need to change. I’m hosting clients in an hour. You,” she pointed to me, “Second door on your left, I’ll bring something up for you.” At the promise of shedding the over exposing dress and blistering heels, I had never moved faster in my life.

————

I took the opportunity to catch my breath while I could, the night had been a little too exciting than any of us had wanted. Sitting on the edge of Sharon’s bed with my elbows balanced on my knees, I felt the adrenaline rush I’d been running on start to subside.

The door opened, bringing in Sharon and her garment of choice. “This looked like it would fit you,” she said, tossing me a black jumpsuit that looked ten times more comfortable than what I was in. She walked over to her wardrobe and pulled out an outfit for herself, “I gotta change too, back to back?” “Works for me,” I replied, turning around and beginning to unzip the dress.

“So you said you’re Sam’s sister but your last name isn’t Wilson?” Sharon asked, I could hear the sound of her clothes hitting the floor.

“We grew up together,” I freed myself of the dress and kicked it to the corner of the room.

“That doesn’t explain why you’re here though,” she said, “This is probably the shittiest family road trip you could go on so clearly there’s a reason.” I looked over to the wardrobe, a pair of black boots sitting on the floor next to it. I used my energy to levitate them and landed them at Sharon’s side. Her dry chuckle served as her reaction. “I kinda begged him to bring me,” I explained as I pulled the jumpsuit up my body, “He was going to send me back home before John Walker decided to not so subtly threaten me with the Sokovian Accords, figured I’d be safer here with them.” “Safer?” Sharon scoffed, “Did he say this before or after you were being shot at by bounty hunters?”

“Well, between getting shipped off to jail and going undercover with a superhero and a Super Soldier as protection, I’ll take my chances here.” I heard Sharon walk away, presumably finished dressing. I zipped up the suit and tightened the belt, turning around after to find her leaned up against her dresser with her hands in her pockets. “Look, I know we just met but let me do you a favor and shed some light on the subject of heroics. It’s all bullshit. The whole costume, nickname, swoop-in-and-save-the-day act is all hypocrisy. I get that you’re young, you’ve got,” she waved a hand at mine, “Whatever that is. Maybe you want to do some good, maybe you just want to feel like you’re a part of something. Maybe you didn’t think it through at all and just thought it would be cool to run with a superhero. But if you’re smart, you’ll get your ass on a plane to anywhere but here and stay clear of all this.”

There was so much going through my head that I wanted to throw back at her, proving her speech completely wrong. Then I remembered that this woman had sacrificed more than most had and the government had turned their backs on her. She’d stuck her neck out for Steve and Sam and had been punished for it. Plus, she was kind enough to give us refuge when she had every right now to. I wasn’t in a place to criticize her. If anything, she should have been a cautionary tale. “I’ve had these powers all my life and have never known what to do with them,” I responded, “I want to help people and this is the best way for me to do that. As easy as it would be for some people to walk away, this is personal and I can’t leave now.” Sharon stared back at me silently before pushing herself off the dresser and brushing past me. There were layers of her expression, if I could peel each one back I thought I might get to the sadness I suspected she felt regarding her current life status. She opened her wardrobe, pulled out a pair of combat boots and handed them to me. “Then take a step back and ask yourself how far you’re willing to go. And if the three of you live long enough to get there, is it going to be worth the hell that’ll come afterwards?” She gave me a half smile before leaving the room, her heavy words hanging in the air. Steve had been my friend, Sam was my brother and Bucky was quickly climbing the ranks of people I cared about. I was going to see this through to the end with them, but what was the end? Was it retrieving the rest of the serum and stopping the Flag Smashers? Was it only two of us returning? One? None? Questions I didn’t have the answers to swirled in my mind as I stared at the door, wondering what awaited us for the rest of the night.

----

A/N: Next chapter is going to be...let’s just say there’s gonna be a lot of developments. A lot. Hope you guys are enjoying it, let me know what you thought or if you’d like to be tagged.

Safe Haven taglist: @tanyaherondale @wanniiieeee @asoftie4bucky @edencherries @i-reblog-fics-i-like @ttalisa @gcfty @withyoutilltheendofthismess @rinaispunk @weirdowithnobeardo @felicityofbakerstreet @godlypotterwhodiaries @eternalharry @voguesir @mizz-kraziii @okayline @smellmymisunderstoodfluff @wanderin-stories @nicklet94 @intricate-melody @aesthethickks @stumbleonmywords @simplybarnes @21bruhs @lostinwonderland314 @superbookishhufflepuff @kaelyn-lobrutto24 @zozebo @fandomxreaders @kittengirl998 @sarai-ibn-la-ahad

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x fem!reader #bucky barnes imagine #sam wilson x reader #sam wilson x platonic!reader #marvel imagine

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r6shippingdelivery · 3 years

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i think the thing that bothers me most about the whole zofia and ela thing is that it feels like a massive retcon. like did anyone else read Zofia bio? because to me it heavily implies that zofia might have killed their dad?? like ubisoft???? hello?? and it sounds more like zofia tried to reconcile with ela rather than Ela trying to reach out to her sister and being rebuffed?? idk whatever man

but i love the shot of the two opposing sides in the parking lot and you can see Thatcher in the background because the SAS are losing Smoke after all this time! like how did that conversation go?? was Mike just like a "disappointed but not surprised" dad when Smoke decided to go or was he more all out angry with him? and also Lion seeing Finka go! they were partners so it must be hard for both of them too! and he most likely doesn't know her reasoning since very few people know about her illness :(

Oh, I am so very annoyed that they retconned the lore of the sisters (although retconning lore is a staple of Siege's writers, they always change stuff to suit their needs atm, leaving a mess to piece for the fans). Although I do not really share the same conclusions you reached. Lemme explain:

We're told that the sisters grew up being distant due to Jan Bosak playing favorites, Zofia accepting his harsh methods due to the trauma of when bullying classmates almost drowned her - she wanted to become stronger so she wouldn't be vulnerable again, while Ela struggled and rebelled under her dad's strict authority. They did NOT work together in the early years of their careers, Zofia went overseas and met her husband in Mali, and Ela dropped off the military school, went to art school in Berlin, and later joined a small PMC group.

When Zofia went back to Poland to get married, her wishes of a small ceremony were hijacked by her dad, who turned it into a marked celebration, reuniting the clique of politicians who took power after the assassination of Poland’s president. Zofia was shocked to see two former suspects among the crowd, embraced warmly by her father. She left the party early, feigning illness. While investigating what she’d seen, Zofia discovered she was pregnant (literal excerpt from her bio). She kept that pregnancy secret, probably out of fear or uncertainty. And in the following months, her dad committed suicide. Allegedly.

After the death of her dad and the birth of her daughter, Zofia learns Ela is joining GROM and it's then when she attempts to reconnect with her sister while following her into Rainbow. None of that bullshit of "we were a team for years, but when father died you left me alone", it's the fucking opposite of what their bios say!!

From Harry's psychological report of Zofia, we learn that Zofia struggles with her father's death. She doesn't believe it was suicide and asked if I can recover his autopsy report (again, literal excerpt). So no, this indicates she's obsessed with uncovering the truth, she suspects those politicians who organized the assassination of the president killed her dad too, maybe to tie loose ends. And she's obsessed with discovering the truth, Harry even hints she's asked him to use his connections to let her access those reports, but he doesn't think he has those kinds of connections, nor does he think it's necessarily a good idea to indulge this obsession of Zofia, cause it won't bring her closure.

As for how they might react to some of the ops joining Nighthaven, I'm not about to especulate about what will happen cause they re-write and tweak the characters and their motivations every single time they make up something new 🤷

I don't think Thatcher was pleased, nor understanding. He is an old person with very rigid views of work (as seen in his interactions with Dokkaebi in The Hammer and The Scalpel), and I'd wager with a callsign of "Thatcher" he's conservative, patriotic, and old fashioned. So he would not take it well, nor be understanding like a dad figure, imo. As for Finka... do we really know she joined NH? The only people we see in the car with Kali are Ela and Smoke, the latter welcoming Ela to the NH family. We assume IQ, Pulse and Finka also joined cause they were around the cars too, but we don't know for sure. We don't know either if Lion and Finka are close or not as work partners. Although, seeing how last year she was siding with Ash and defending her and looking for a brawl with the people siding with NH, it would be a surprise for everyone if she joins NH. As you said, only Doc knows about her condition, so they wouldn't see it coming.

#rainbow 6 siege #r6s #rainbow six siege #anonymous

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ofoceansandtombsanew · 3 years

Text

chapter list ⚜️ next chapter

summary: “Don’t wait for me, okay?” After months of clinging to the hope that your ex-girlfriend would suddenly change her mind about the break up, you take it as a sign from the universe it really is time to move on when your sweetheart of a roommate confesses her long-held feelings for you. When Historia shortly returns from Berlin, however, it becomes quickly apparent that lingering feelings remain on both sides. But between your complicated relationship with Historia and your newly developing relationship with Mikasa, you aren’t sure which to embrace. Trying things over again or taking steps towards something new?

tags: fem!reader, pan!reader, modern!au, college!au, roommates, exes, armin being a scorpio, past!eremin, ereani, jearmin, chapter is mostly unbeta’d because i’m a lazy bitch, catch the tik tok reference

a/n: major dedication to @cafedanslanuit because we both laughed way too hard thinking about the tiktok scenario that i had to add it to a fic i wrote at least once. let me know what you guys think, tis my first time trying to write a love triangle ever.

| | CHAPTER 1 | |

In the lackluster chatter of Sina Cafe, the last possible question you wanted your friend to ask finally reared its ugly head. “Did you hear that Historia’s coming back?”

“Oh really? Cool. I didn’t hear about that.” You replied cheerily, well aware of Pieck’s sleepy steel blue eyes observing you carefully. That technically wasn’t a lie, you hadn’t verbally heard the news from anyone. It only was information you’d acquired by randomly stumbling upon your ex’s story when you refreshed instagram for the millionth time the other day. And like every other day you’d done ever since Historia left for Germany a few months ago for an internship at the Berlin branch of her family’s company.

The family that you weren’t even sure knew of your existence as Historia’s girlfriend. Ex-girlfriend, you quickly reminded yourself.

The family Historia hadn’t ever told you much about in the first place despite your many attempts to learn more about them.

Then a week before she left the country, your girlfriend of one year broke up with you. Things blew up from there, you grimaced internally at the memory of how things fell apart. You at least made up and kept in contact a bit after she left, but it didn’t take longer than a few weeks before Historia suggested that maybe you both stopped to make things easier.

I just need to figure myself out. Don’t wait for me, okay? I don’t know how things will be when I get back, so you shouldn’t wait for me. Love you, bye. That was the last text shared between you and things had been radio silent ever since.

“It’s crazy she’s been gone for three months, it’ll be weird seeing her again.” You hoped you smiled convincingly enough as you went on. “Did she tell you directly or post it on her Insta or…?”

Pieck gave you a look of exasperation, “I know you’ve been on her page basically everyday, you know.”

Of course you did. You sighed and saw your disgruntled expression reflecting in your unsatisfying cup of coffee. Not your preferable drink at this overpriced cafe but their tea all tasted like hot leaf juice. “I didn’t look at it for a couple of days before this, at least.” You offered weakly. It was only because you were busy with work but it still counted for something.

Pieck’s expression was a mixture of empathy and something else you couldn’t place. “You know it’s only gonna make it harder to move on from her.”

“I know.” It had taken the better part of a month for you to change your lock screen photo from a picture of you and Historia at the beach. Then you completely rendered that decision pointless when you promptly made it your homescreen photo instead. If Pieck knew about that, she was at least kind enough to not mention it.

“What’s the plan when she gets back?” Pieck asked you instead.

You shrugged, “I dunno. We stopped talking a couple weeks after she left.” You pursed your lips thoughtfully, remembering Historia’s last words again. Don’t wait for me. “She never really said we wouldn’t ever get back together once she got back…” you trailed off before adding truthfully, “but she never said we would either. She just said to move on.”

How one moved on from the one who was your perfect match in almost every way, you weren’t sure. It wasn’t like you thought that the two of you would ever get married one day; you definitely weren’t thinking that far into the future. But I dunno, I really thought we’d make it for the unforeseeable future. “It’s like, I want to move on but at the same time I don’t. And the dumb part is, I even tell myself it isn’t even like I need to just throw myself into any relationship but I could just date around at least but it’s weird.” Especially knowing Historia would be back any day now.

“You could always download Tinder again.” Pieck suggested, gesturing towards your phone. “Maybe just to see if getting back with Historia is something you actually want or if it’s the familiarity you’re missing…” Pieck trailed off for a moment. “At least try out her advice. We don’t know what Historia is thinking either, especially if you haven’t talked in a while.”

You made a face almost immediately. “And risk seeing semen retention guy who didn’t believe that the pandemic was a thing?”

“Bumble?”

“I don’t trust an app that got sponsored on Riverdale.”

“…. Her?”

“Everyone on that app is non-committal.”

Pieck gave you an annoyed look that would even put the ones from The Office to shame. “What?” You shrugged defensively.

“You’re being picky on purpose.”

“I’m not being picky.” You squeaked.

Pieck raised an eyebrow incredulously, “considering this was just about you going on a few dates with random people, it’s coming off as picky.”

You shrugged your shoulders again, ignoring the uncomfortable pangs in your stomach. “I just wanna meet someone in person if I start messing around with people again.” Blonde locks and bright blue eyes came to mind. You picked up your coffee for the first time in a while to prevent yourself from answering any comments Pieck could make.

The tension in the silence that followed between you was thick as you sipped your lukewarm drink. Pieck sighed, “so.” Her change in tone indicating a change in topics was relief-inducing. “How are things with the whole Armin, Eren, and Annie Thruple situation?”

You made a sound that was half way between a groan and choked laughter. “Don’t get me started, it’s still a mess.”

“Is Armin still pretending he doesn’t know who they are?”

You gave Pieck a look that screamed ‘you know damn well Armin’s scorpio ass is still doing exactly that.’ Pieck giggled into her coffee in response. “Mikasa’s still trying to be neutral about the whole thing because they’re all childhood friends, but I really don’t think that’s gonna last long.” I mean, Armin still doesn’t mind hanging out with us as long as we don’t mention them. “It was already bad enough Eren’s ass cheated on him, but he cheated on Armin with Annie of all people.”

The Thruple situation, as Pieck put it, was the latest drama causing a funky split in your group of mutual friends.

It all goes back to Christmas Eve last month when Armin called Mikasa asking if the two of you could help him move out because he and Eren broke up that day. Not only did they break up, but Eren told Armin that he was seeing someone else and when Eren left that morning to go see his mystery lover, Armin went through Eren’s MacBook and saw that the other person was Annie.

Annie Leonhart.

Armin’s ex from first year.

Armin wanted out immediately and needed help moving all his things. So of course you and Mikasa rented a moving van to give him some assistance. You just weren’t expecting, once you finally arrived, the next thing out of the blond man’s lips to be: “Take everything.”

You still remember the pause as you and Mikasa shared a look of confusion. “What do you mean ‘everything’?”

“I mean ‘everything’.” Armin seethed, bloodshot eyes bulging as he frantically continued packing what you were sure was half of a drawer of clothes Armin had bought Eren throughout the years. “He had nothing when we got together and moved in here, I’m leaving him with nothing.”

And everything you packed despite Mikasa’s initial weak protests that Armin could at least be reasonable about this.

You packed 90% of Eren’s clothes.

The MacBook.

The PS4.

The TV.

The dishes Armin inherited from his late grandfather.

Your body racked painfully as you tried and failed to hold back to the laughter at your recollection of the day. “I still can’t believe he even made us take the Christmas tree. The fucking tree, Pieck!” Armin literally made you tie the Christmas tree on top of the van, ornaments and all, before you drove out of the parking lot of what used to be Armin’s apartment complex.

Ornaments fell and broke on the street as you drove by like you were some modern adaptation of the Grinch. It took only an hour before Eren called Armin furiously and a heated shouting match broke out between them as Armin paced in yours and Mikasa’s apartment. And in your apartment Armin stayed for a week before he moved in with Jean who was looking for a new roommate.

Needless to say, Mikasa told you things were very awkward at the Jaeger Family Christmas Party as Carla and Grisha awkwardly asked who Annie was and what happened with Armin. Then that awkwardness flowed right into your friend group and everyone was picking sides.

Team Eren or Team Armin or Team I’m Staying the Hell Out of it. You were on Team Three with Mikasa on this one. Scratch that, Mikasa was on a completely separate fourth team of trying to get Eren and Armin to reconcile.

You breathed after the last of your laughter escaped you. “It’s honestly kind of adorable how hard she’s trying to get Armin to at least give Eren’s laptop back.” For now, though, Eren was stuck using his older half-brother’s old one. “I keep telling her to let Eren and Armin be but you know how she is. Stubborn as hell.”

Pieck smiled good-naturedly, “Even if they’re fighting right now, Armin and Eren have known each other for years. They’ll come around on their own time.”

Hopefully.

You checked the time on your phone and made an ‘oop’ of surprise. “Gotta get goin’, Mikasa’s clocking out soon.” When your roommate left earlier that morning for her shift at a popular import store, Reeves’ Imports, she’d sounded dead tired. Shortly after Mikasa had gone, you made quick work of asking Pieck if you could meet up at a location closer to Mikasa’s job instead. “The assholes should be easing up on her shifts now that the holidays have passed but she’s still basically going in every day she doesn’t have class.”

Even the basic Walmart you worked at was trying to respect your availability now that the holidays were over and classes would be starting again.

“Has she talked to human resources about her availability yet?” Pieck questioned with a curious look.

You nodded but the frown remained on your face. “She said they want to keep this up basically until the first week of class, so she wants to tough it out.” How Mikasa was so stubborn when it came to the well-being of other people but was fine tolerating shitty working conditions was a mystery to even Eren, her foster brother. It was almost like Mikasa was allergic to receiving any extra help from the Jaegers now that she was legally able to take care of herself.

She even got a scholarship to your school despite the fact Eren’s parents said they would have no problem paying for her tuition and other fees. Once the two of you decided to move out of the school dormitory in favor of getting a cheaper off-campus apartment, it didn’t take Mikasa long to find a job either. All this while maintaining her high grades. Whenever you remembered this information, it really was a wonder Mikasa hadn’t collapsed from fatigue yet.

“I’ll talk to her about it again. They think because she’s the best employee they can milk her dry if she’s on vacation.” You sighed, suddenly feeling mentally exhausted.

Pieck smiled reassuringly. “I’m pretty sure if you asked, Mikasa might listen to you.” You snorted in disbelief causing your friend to chuckle. “Stubborn as she can be, Mikasa really does value your opinion so I think she’d listen to you. You’re good for each other. She keeps you from being a complete mess, you keep her from completely working herself to death. Match made in heaven.”

Your parents were certainly impressed the first time you visited in a while that you washed the dishes completely unprompted. It’s amazing what happens to a person when you live with Mikasa Ackerman. You scooted your coffee to the side. “Tell ‘em to toss that for me, will you? I gotta get going.”

Pieck’s smile shifted into something more playful. “You don’t have to get the coffee if you hate it so much.”

“The tea’s even worse.” You clucked, digging through your wallet for your portion of the bill. “I’ll tell you more about the Thruple thing later.”

“Tell Mikasa I said ‘hi’.”

“I will if I remember.” You teased. With a wave of your hand, you made quick work of texting your roommate as you made your way to your car.

[‘Hey I’m coming to pick you up See you in a few uwu’]

It didn’t take long for you to spot your roommate in the parking Reeves’ Imports, long black hair pulled into a ponytail and darkening bags beginning to develop under her eyes. “You didn’t have to pick me up, I could’ve taken the bus or Uber.” Mikasa said the moment she opened the door.

“Oh I was already in the neighborhood.” You replied with ease. Even before you knew each other well when you first started rooming together, Mikasa always had that motherly air to her. When Mikasa’s eyes lingered on you with a look of suspicion, you snickered. “I was! Pieck and I met up at the Sina Cafe down the street from where you work.”

“You hate Sina.” Mikasa answered matter-of-factly, closing the door. “You complain whenever we see one.”

You opened your mouth to argue that point but you promptly closed it remembering the last of your exchange with Pieck. Maybe you did complain a fair bit about Sina even when an opportunity didn’t present itself. You snorted after a moment, “anyway, I really enjoyed the coffee I had last time so I decided to give them a fair shot.” You slowly managed to maneuver the car out of the parking lot.

A lull followed and you pointedly looked at Mikasa who was smiling appreciatively but tiredly. “Thanks for coming all this way.”

“Don’t mention it.” You grinned, tapping a melody of victory on the steering wheel.

With that, a comfortable silence fell over you as Mikasa looked out the window at the buildings and passersby. People like you who looked good even after working for eight hours are the worst. You thought jokingly, unable to hold back a smile yourself as you redirected your gaze to the road. Still it was no exaggeration that Mikasa was regarded as one of the prettiest people in your group of friends. When the two of you were both out and about, it wasn’t too rare that someone would approach to ask Mikasa for a bit of her time. In all your time knowing her though, you’d never seen her go on dates.

Maybe Mikasa was even more picky than you, if Pieck’s exasperation from earlier was anything to use as a basis. Or maybe she was just focusing on her studies. Or maybe she was aro ace and you were a dick in assuming anything concerning why Mikasa never went out with anyone.

We’ve been living together since first year and I don’t even know her sexuality! At the next red light, you glanced at Mikasa in a mini-panic only to see a pair of gray eyes were already directed at you.

“What?” You fumbled, hoping she didn’t somehow sense your internal dilemma.

“What?” Mikasa’s cheeks looked a tinge pink in the afternoon sun.

“Nothing, I was just thinking about how you never go on dates with anyone.” Surprise danced in gray eyes at your statement along with something else you couldn’t quite place. “You’re like, the best person I know and people are always hitting on you so it’s a surprise you haven’t even been on one.”

If there was any confusion about Mikasa’s face earlier, the red painting her face was certainly the cause of embarrassment this time. “It doesn’t happen that often.”

“Achoo!” You sneezed exaggeratedly. “Sorry. Allergic to bullshit.”

“It doesn’t!” Mikasa protested as you glanced at her briefly in disbelief. Mikasa began playing with the fraying thread of one piece of her uniform. “Well… not that much. I’m too busy to date.”

“Too busy or just not in the mood?” You treaded lightly on the prospective landmine to try and gauge her reaction. When Mikasa awkwardly shuffled, you decided to lay off. “We don’t have to talk about it, I just realized we don’t usually talk about relationships and stuff. I mean, unless we count. Well, you know.” The many times you rambled about Historia and the subsequent period of time when Mikasa was your pillar of support when you were absolutely wrecked after your breakup. “But you don’t have to, like, feel like you have to date anyone.”

Mikasa thankfully didn’t look upset. “It’s fine. I want to date, the opportunity just never presented itself.”

“Are you into someone right now?” When there was no immediate response, your eyes practically bulged out your sockets. “Really?! Who?! Do I know them?!”

“Eyes on the road.” Mikasa demanded, flustered with a sharp look as the light turned green.

“Mikasa. Into someone.” You murmured in awe, wondering who could have caught the beautiful woman’s attention. “I’ve entered a new reality.” You glanced at her as she stared pointedly out the window, embarrassed expression reflecting in the window.

It vaguely crossed your mind as a thought: Dating Mikasa, huh? Mikasa would be an amazing girlfriend. Awkward she could occasionally be, she was a very loving person even if she could sometimes be a bit smothery. But when it came to the times you were sick or didn’t feel like leaving the house because everyone seemed to be on eggshells around you after things with Historia, Mikasa was always the person right there that you could depend on.

It was ridiculous to think that when you’d first been delegated as roommates in the dorms, you were somewhat afraid of her. Intimidated by how quiet she was and her piercing looks. It only took a few weeks before Mikasa eventually asked if she was making you uncomfortable out of concern of how you treated her like she would bite your head off at any moment.

Now she was the person you were undoubtedly sure would be your ride and die until the end of time. Historia came to mind again and you forced the memories to the darkest crevices of your mind.

You almost felt a vague sense of envy. The ride back home was neither tense or uncomfortable, though some sort of feeling sat between you both. It persisted even at the grocery store where you picked up some ingredients to make a quick meal for the night.

Mikasa’s expression was contemplative as you entered your home. You gave her a warm look. “I think you should tell them. Only an idiot wouldn’t want to go out with you.”

“I-” Mikasa fumbled over her words at your suddenly statement. “She’s not really looking to date anyone right now, I don’t think.”

You set the bag of ingredients for the poor man’s attempt at pizza on the counter top. “You never know until you try though, right?” Mikasa made a doubtful sound as you continued on. “Just tell this girl how you feel and let the chips fall where they may. It isn’t gonna make the friendship awkward or anything. And if it’s just some girl from campus or something, either way it’s her loss.” You weren’t exaggerating when you said that.

Maybe things would be completely different if Mikasa had been your girlfriend from the beginning. Whether or not that was just genuine food for thought or you just being upset about your failed relationship, you weren’t sure.

“Whoever you’re into, they’ll be literally the one of the luckiest people in the planet. So shoot your shot. Rejection’s better than regret, alright?” You gestured your shoulder in the direction of the bathroom. “Go ahead and shower up, alright? I’ll finish take care of the pizza.”

Mikasa paused for a bit then nodded and you sighed quietly. It would definitely be a bit more lonely in the house if Mikasa actually started seeing someone. Maybe Pieck’s right and I should just download Tinder again. You glanced at your phone, considering it heavily. You definitely didn’t want to risk seeing semen retention guy again though.

“Hey.”

“Need something?” You looked to the hallway where your roommate stood, noting how rigidly she was standing. Please don’t ask me about Tinder, please don’t ask me about Tinder. Her fingers clenched tightly at her scarf she held carefully in her hands. “What is it?” Mikasa bit her lip for a moment before opening her mouth and closing it again. You set down the bowl you were holding. “Mikasa?

“Would you like to go somewhere sometime?” Mikasa finally managed to ground out after a few more seconds. You were about to tell her that was a no brainer when Mikasa continued on, a mixture of embarrassed yet hopeful. “On a date?”

It took a bit for your mind to process what you’d been asked as Mikasa stared back awkwardly waiting for your answer.

“She’s not really looking to date anyone right now, I don’t think.” Mikasa said.

“Me?” You asked dumbly. It wasn’t the first time you were certain you were dreaming or phasing into an alternate reality. There was definitely no chance in even the hottest depths of hell that Mikasa, of all people, would ask you out. “You were talking about me?”

Mikasa seemed to deflate at the query. “For a while now.” She replied quietly. “But you were dating Historia before.” Mikasa snapped into an expression more serious. “I’d never take advantage of the fact you’re broken up with Historia but- but you said that I should at least ask and see what would happen. It doesn’t have to be serious, just to try and see.”

Wow.

“At least try out her advice.“

“You’re good for each other.”

Almost without thinking, you blurted out: “Um then yeah. Let’s go on a date. The two of us.” You cringed inwardly at your phrasing but Mikasa didn’t seem to mind, not one bit, as she smiled the widest you’d seen in recent times since her hectic work schedule began. “You have to promise to get your hours shortened or have more days off though.”

There was a mixture of feelings running through you. Guilt, excitement, anxiety, a vague sensation of one part of you shaking you senseless demanding to know what you were thinking.

“I can do that.” Mikasa promised, cutting off your internal cacophony of emotions. She looked downright elated. “Um, I’ll go and get in the shower now. Thank you hearing me out.”

Your heart thrummed nervously as you smiled back. “Yeah, you’re welcome.” You wanted to kick yourself in the shin for your choice of words. “Wait, no- I mean thanks to you too. For telling me- well, not that it’s something- just go take your shower.” Yeah, this was actually happening.

Mikasa smiled wordlessly before turning around again, leaving with a much more relaxed stride. For the first time in a while, the thought of going on a date didn’t sound or feel completely repulsive. You still felt awkward, strangely guilty. Planning to go on a date when Historia was going to be back in the country at any moment felt wrong at some base level in you.

But maybe Pieck was right in that you should at least go on a few dates. At least with Mikasa you knew that it wouldn’t completely ruin everything between you if things went south.

In the corner of your eye, your phone lit up and you leaned over to see what your newest notification was.

hisu_reissxoxo has a new story.

With how quickly you unlocked your phone to see her newest update, you felt like you were a struggling addict.

Finally back home! It was nice, Germany! Historia’s caption read over a picture of the airport growing distant in the background. She even made an accompanying post, her most recent photo being her favorite place in Berlin.

‘It was fun, Germany. See you again some time.’ Was the caption inscribed. It only took seconds for likes to flood in with how many devout followers Historia had. It wasn’t like she’d noticed I liked this if I do it now when everyone else is doing it. Your grip on your phone tightened, fingers tingling as you deliberated your next move. With two quick taps, your heart clenched as the heart icon lit up and you set your phone away, face down.

You thought of Mikasa’s excited smile.

It was time to put this chapter of your life behind you, you decided as you continued moving about in the kitchen.

#look she's writing #snk #snk x reader #aot #aot x reader #historia reiss x reader #historia x reader #mikasa ackerman x reader #mikasa x reader

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anjuschiffer · 4 years

Text

Undefined

Happy Valentine’s Day @m3owww! Hope you enjoy it Phi!

Thanks to @eat0crow for organizing this exchange and Panda for helping me with the title!

Yes, I know I went overboard...

AO3

Marinette remembered the first time she got something from her soulmate.

It was a battery, or so she found out when she showed it to her parents.

“Maman, what’s this?” She asked her mother as she showed her the black box-like battery.

“Where did you get this?” Sabine asked, taking it and examining, wondering where her 10 year old daughter got it. After all, she didn’t recall them buying it.

“I didn’t get it from anywhere. It just...appeared on my desk.” Marinette explained, watching as Sabine showed the box to her father.

“This looks like a camera battery.” Tom gave the battery back to Marinette, then looked at Sabine, watching as she connected the dots. “Seems like your soulmate might be into photography.”

“Soulmate?” Marinette asked, staring at the battery.

Soulmates. Only five percent of the world’s population had one or rather, the ability to find theirs. They came in various forms and at different ages, so it was always hard to know if you had a soulmate link, bond or mark.

As for the Dupain-Chengs, it seems like Tom and Sabine belonged to that five percent. Sabine and Tom found out they had soulmates when they met at a flea market in Paris. The two had noticed that the timer ticking on their wrist was edging closer to 0, causing them to panic. For the two believed that it was a timer that marked the death of their soulmate.

As the two dashed to find a place to possibly cry at, the two crashed into each other, Tom catching Sabine by her wrist to prevent her from falling. As the two apologized, it was then that they found out that they were soulmates and that the timer was counting down to when they were going to meet. Upon realizing this, they both began to laugh.

Marinette asked them why her soulmate link wasn’t like theirs, Sabine explaining that each soulmate pair had a different bond. As for Marinette, it seemed to be a lost and found link.

If either of them lost anything, say a pencil, then the other will find it.

Sabine noticed that Marinette seemed skeptical of it.

“Try throwing out the battery out the window.”

“What? No!”

“Trust me.” And so Marinette did, after preparing herself for 10 minutes. When she went outside to look for it, it was gone.

Seeing as it was true, Marinette began to purposely lose items frequently, hoping that her soulmate would get the message that she knew about him. That she was eager to meet him. But despite her hard efforts, her items never went over to her soulmate, the items landing or staying in the spot Marinette had thrown at.

Because of this, whenever Marinette would try and show her friends her bond, they half-believed her. Only one straight up thought she made up the story to get attention: Chloe.

But then again, Chloe didn’t like anyone, so Marinette kept telling her friends of her various attempts, eagerly telling them how she couldn’t wait to meet them.

Soulmates…as much as Tim wanted to ask his parents about it, he chose not to.

Tim looked at the tiny medallion in his hand, his fingers running over the three letters engraved on it, quickly putting it away when he heard his mother’s footsteps, quickly burying himself into his homework, pretending to flip between pages when he heard the doorknob of his room turn.

Janet walked in, Tim pretending to figure out a calculation out, quickly scribbling some nonsense onto his paper.

“I see that you’re working hard.”

“Mr.Sommers said that the next exam will cover factorization, so I thought I would do a few for practice.” Tim easily lied, adding a final number before looking up to acknowledge his mother.

She had that look again. “How long would you be out for this trip?” Janet jumped a bit. “You talked about it with Mrs.Romanov just yesterday, when you found her at the bookstore to buy some books for the flight. When we were at the storefront, remember?”

Another lie. Yes, his mother had gone to the bookstore with Tim, but the thing was that Janet had sent Tim off while she told Mrs.Romanov about her next exertion. How she told Mrs.Romanov if she knew of any nannies to take care of Tim while she was going to be out for the next two months.

Despite knowing Tim was capable of maintaining himself, she didn’t want the school to bother her again for not leaving him behind with adult supervision. It was starting to get on her nerves.

“Oh that’s right. How did I forget?” His mother recalled, not once doubting his retelling. “We’re excavating in Riqqeh, Egypt for a month.” Tim watched as his mother let out a sigh. “Probably more cemeteries, but then again, you never know until you dig.”

“I see.” Tim said, burying himself back into his homework. “Hope you find something more interesting than skeletons then.”

“I promise to bring back a souvenir, okay?” His mother walked to him, placing a cold kiss on his forehead, Tim noticing his father’s name etched on her collar bone. “Make sure to go straight to sleep after you finish that page, understood?” A nod. “Good night, Timothy.”

“Good night.” He simply said back, watching as she closed the door.

Taking out the medallion, Tim stared at it.

He had a soulmate somewhere out there...a soulmate he dreaded to meet...and yet hoped that perhaps they wouldn’t end up like his parents…

Tim opened a secret compartment in his pencil case and placed the medallion there, thinking about it until he went to sleep.

—

Soulmates. Everyone is always eager to meet them, but no one ever tells you how to keep that same enthusiasm after you meet them…

Tim’s parents met when Janet had tagged along with one of her friend’s excavation trips, meeting Jack in Berlin.

The minute the two saw each other, their world turned more colorful, the two becoming infatuated with one other when they found out they were soulmates. After showing each other’s names etched onto their collarbones, the two quickly planned their marriage.

Marrying in Gotham was a dream come true for Janet...but that dream lasted a mere months before the world went back to being its bland self. With each having their own dreams, careers and goals, Janet and Jack started to stray from each other. Meetings and trips took time away from one another. And the time they would see each other, they would simply talk about work, work and nothing else. Not even a single ‘want to take a break?’ or ‘how about we go out for dinner tonight?’

It was like being at another board meeting, being professional with each other.

They only drew close to one another when Janet found out she was pregnant with Timothy, Jack taking some time off work to make sure Janet had various maids checking on her before returning back to work.

On the day Timothy was to be born, Jack was there, holding Janet’s handing during the delivery. He held his son once before handing him over to Janet and leaving, mentioning about having to go back to work.

Jack would then go on to see Timothy at home, being lulled to sleep by the handmaid, telling Jack of Janet’s meeting with the board about an upcoming visit to Mexico.

There were few times Tim actually remembered going out as a family and while from the outside it looked like any other family outing, Tim knew why they were out in the first place: rumors.

“Have you heard? Drake’s little boy was seen walking home by himself! What parent lets their child go home by themselves? ”

“Timothy? But he’s only six!”

“Heard they plan on sending him to a boarding school. Poor thing.”

While the family outings were influenced by rumors, Tim found joy in them because it was the few times he was able to go to places he had desired to go before. Like the circus....even if that one ended in a tragedy.

But even good things had to come to an end. Years went by and Timothy grew to be very independent. That was when all the maids and servants were shooed off, leaving Tim all alone.

It didn’t help that they did indeed end up sending him to boarding school.

But Tim managed to get used to being alone, and has been for the past two years.

Years passed and Marinette no longer kept trying to lose her items. Despite her various attempts, she couldn’t manage to send them over to her soulmate, finding it disheartening it.

But as of these days, Marinette didn’t have the time to try it again. Or rather, she could no longer afford to lose her belongings or let them out of her sight.

While she had gotten used to getting her things taken away from her thanks to her friends borrowing them or Chloe playing a “prank” on her, getting bullied by two people at the same time was starting to take a toll on her and the brand she was trying to set for herself at the age of 15.

If she dared to let her eyes wander, then they would either fall into the hands of Chloe or of Lila’s. When Lila transferred to Dupont, Marinette didn’t honestly care about her lying, after all, they were nothing but white lies. So she never bothered to actually make friends with the girl. But even with the lack of communication, Marinette apparently did something to Lila because one day she was cornered in the bathroom and was threatened.

Marinette was kind but she knew when enough was enough.

“I would like to see you try.” She practically spat into Lila’s face before leaving the bathroom those weeks ago.

So here she was, being bullied by both her bully since l'école primaire and her new found one in lycee.

But between the two, Marinette preferred her personal things end up in Chloe’s hands than Lila’s. Chloe at least gave them back, but Lila? They never returned in one piece or even worse, they didn’t come back at all.

“Marinette? Where is your-”

“Mme Bustier...I promise you I did do it. I had it.” Marinette stabilized her voice from erupting into panic as she failed to find her assignment that she swore she had in her bag. “You can even ask Alya. She saw it.”

“That’s true Mme Bustier!” Alya quickly defended, although she wondered what happened to the paper as she saw Marinette safely tuck it away. Yes, Marinette could be clumsy, but unorganized and scattered brain? That she was not. She was meticulous, precise and always punctual. So how did that paper leave its place?

“Regardless, it’s not in my hands.” Mme Bustier sighed. “You’ll have to stay after class.” That caused Marinette to panic. She couldn’t afford to stay after school. She had a meeting with a client as soon as school ended.

“But Mme Bustier!”

“I’m sorry Marinette, but-”

“I can’t afford to stay after class! I have a very important-”

“Marinette.” Mme Bustier sternly stated. “Rules are rules. You’ll have to come after school, whether you have a very important appointment or not.”

Marinette managed to not scream as the bell rang, watching as everyone filed out, Alya lingering behind.

“Marinette, I could-” she shook her head.

“Alya, I’ll be alright.” She gave her friend a sheepish smile. “And go on without me. Perhaps my client will understand when I explain it to them via text.” Despite Marinette’s reassurance, Alya nodded and left the classroom hesitantly.

Bracing herself for her punishment, Mme Bustier got a phone call from the main office, looking at Marinette and turning her attention back to the phone. With a few ‘oui’ and ‘be right there,’ Bustier turned to Marinette.

“They need me for a few minutes downstairs, but that doesn’t mean you are free to go. Stay here while I check what they need from me.” Mme Bustier ordered, Marinette burying her face into her hands as she slammed herself into her desk.

She lifted her head once again, sending a quick text to her client about running late. Once that was over, Marinette took out her sketchbook to look over her designs, taking out a red pen to add some additional revisions.

She didn’t know how long she had been like that, but the moment she heard the door open, her head snapped upwards, a frown on her face when she saw Lila and not Mme Bustier.

“What do you want?”

“Nothing much.” Lila said, dragging her fingers on the desk Marinette sat at. “Just this!” She exclaimed, snatching the sketchbook from under Marinette’s hand.

“Give it back!” Marinette screamed, quickly chasing after Lila around the class.

“Oh come one Marinette! I just want to-”

“They’re very important commision designs for a client-” Marinette attempted to reason, almost grabbing it back from Lila.

“Is that so?” Lila hummed, quickly opening the sketchbook and looking at the designs. “Wow. You weren’t kidding!” A grin made its way to her face. “It’d be too bad if something bad happened to it.”

Marinette’s eyes widened and the next thing she knew, she had managed to grab the sketchbook from Lila.

“There’s no way in hell I would let you.” Marinette said in a low voice.

“Oh? Then let’s see you try!” Lila yelled, attempting to grab the sketchbook from Marinette.

The two waltzed away from one another as Marinette kept her sketchbook away from Lila’s grasp. The two were on each other’s toes until Marinette had to run around the classroom, having to knock over Mme Bustier’s chair to keep Lila away from her when she got too close to comfort.

“Come on Marinette! I just want to see-”

“No way in hell Lila!” Marinette screamed, feeling as Lila dug her nails into her shoulder when she ended up cornering her by the windows, Marinette trying her best to not wince at the pain.

The two girls kept clawing at one another until Marinette couldn’t keep Lila at bay anymore, trying to find a way to keep her sketchbook safe from Lila. As Lila kept pushing her, Marinette’s hand hit the window, almost knocking down the metal rod that was used to pull down the shades. That’s when it hit her.

Taking in a deep breath, Marinette kicked Lila away from her, ingraining Lila’s expression of surprise into her memory. As Lila goy up and charged to grab the designer’s sketchbook, Marinette flung it behind her head, silently praying for its safety.

After all, everytime she had tried to lose an item, it never worked. But this time, just this one time, she hoped it would work.

Meanwhile, Lila watched as the sketchbook flew out the window, watching as it fell down to the ground, only to disappear before it hit the grass outside.

Lila stepped back, her eyes darting from the missing book to the panting Marinette who glared at her with daggers for eyes.

“Not this time Lila. Not this time.” The classroom door opened, causing both girls to look at the doorway.

“What is going on here?” Mme Mendeleiev practically shouted, causing Lila to lose all color in her face.

Crap.

—

Tim watched as his English teacher started to walk down the desk aisle, watching as he started to collect their writing assignment assigned yesterday. Seeing as he was drawing near, Tim reached into his bag, when he felt an unfamiliar texture brush against his knuckles. Peering into his bag, he noticed a leather book with a red strap securing it.

Deciding to check it out later, Tim took out his assignment and handed it in, watching as Mr.Hughes simply nodded as he took it, walking down the other row of desks to take the assignment.

As class progressed, his mind drifted to one thing: the book. Tim pondered at how the leather book had gotten into his bag and who it belonged to.

Was it from someone in his class? Was it part of a prank?

He was snapped from his thoughts once the bell rang, signaling everyone that it was lunch.

Tim scurried to the school’s library, heading up to the second floor and turning a right to where his favorite spot welcomed him. A lone desk at the corner, next to a radiator that warmed him in the winter and a wonderful view of the campus as well.

Ever since the death of his mother around a year ago, Tim was able to convince his father to pull him out of boarding school and to transfer him to Gotham Academy. He told him how it was less costly and better yet, closer to home. He agreed.

Making sure that he was comfortable, Tim took out the leather book, his fingers analyzing the bumpy leather texture. Perhaps he would find the owner’s name inside. If not, he will take it to the lost-n-found in the main office. Carefully, Tim took the red strap off the edge of the book, taken aback at the sketches on the paper.

Light feather markings under layers of darker, bolder strokes of graphite looked back at him in the shape of a dress. Side notes in French in a vibrant shade of black ink were meticulously jotted down, red ink being additional notes to the already long list of critiques.

As he turned the pages, Tim saw one dress design after another, designs for hats, caps, shirts and even leather jackets were in there too. Names of fabrics he had never heard of before racked in his mind as Tim kept admiring each sketch. He also couldn’t help but notice the signature on each page. MDC.

MDC.

As he reveled in the initials, trying to make sense of them, he let out a hiss as he retracted his hand from the book, noticing a small bead of blood emerged from his finger...blood?

Tim looked back at the book, noticing that there was a single needle poking out from the sketchbook’s satin bookmark, a silver medallion-

Medallion?

There was no way.

Tim closed in on the medallion and there it was, the initials, MDC. Just like the one he found written on the rose-gold medallion he found years ago.

But why now? Why now after five years of not losing a single thing?

Time had gone by so quickly that Tim literally jumped when the bell rang for the next class, Tim quickly scrambling to gently put back his soulmate’s things into his bag and head for geometry class.

Thanks to the fiasco with Lila, Marientte was held back even more, leading to Marinette having to reschedule her appointment with her client.

Thankfully, the client understood the situation Marinette was just in, even going as far as waiting for Marinette to set the new meeting date. Something about having been there before.

Wrapped in a lavender scented blanket, Marinette stared at her phone screen in front of her that blinked several times before turning black. Then it would turn on again.

On. On. On. On. Off. On…. Off. On... Off...On. On...

Marinette didn’t bother to flip it over either, knowing that the vibration of the incoming calls and unread text messages were going to remind her of the incident with Lila...and how she didn’t have access to her sketchbook anymore.

Her stomach grumbled in annoyance, Marinette only then remembering not having eaten in hours and its been a long time judging form the darken sky outside.

Deciding to actually eat something before she started to feel nauseous from not eating, Marinette was surprised to see a crumpled piece of paper next to the tray of food her mom had brought her. Where did the paper come from?

Opening it up, Marinette felt her heart stop.

I don’t know why, but I have your book…

Thank god she studied a bit of English! Marinette read the next lines.

The designs...are very nice. But guessing from the notes on the last page, you need it back. How exactly do I do that?

That stumped Marinette because to be honest, she didn’t know how. Every time she had tried to before, it never worked. Only this one time where she really needed for the link to work, it worked. But...they managed to easily lose their things…

Grabbing a piece of paper, Marinette wrote back, crumbling it and headed towards her skylight. Opening the hatch a bit, she threw it, going back to her food, hoping it got through.

Tim was minding his own business, listening to NIghtwing give the squad a run down of their latest problem when he eyed a crumpled up paper by his foot. Hoping no one would notice it, he quickly placed it under his foot and waited for the debriefing to finish.

Crouching to get it, it seems like he wasn’t as subtle as he had wished to be as Jaime got to it first.

“What you hiding from us, compa’?” Jaime asked Tim as he uncrumpled the paper. “¿Qué diablos es esto? What is this? Can you even read this?” Jaime pointed at the French written on the paper.

“Yes, I can.” Tim said, huffing when Bart leaned onto his shoulder, peering into the note in Tim’s hands.

“Why am I not surprised?” Jaime said. “Not only are you super smart, but now you’re bilingual too? Let me guess, you're actually multilingual?”

“Actually, he is.” Bart chimed in.

“No manches güey. Seriously?”

“If I remember correctly: Spanish, Cantonese, Russian-”

“And German.” Tim finished, quickly picking up his pace. “Now if you excuse me, I have a few things to do.”

“Hey! At least tell us what it says! Andale, no seas malo.” Jaime pleaded but simply got a wave goodbye for an answer. “Fine! But don’t forget about tomorrow’s mission, eh?”

As Tim left Jaime and Bart behind, he headed to the zeta tubes to head back home, thanking Alfred for the lift home, acknowledging his father as he made his way to his room.

He made a beeline for his bag, taking out the sketchbook, scared to even hold it now that he knew who it belonged to and how much it could potentially be worth.

He laid down the wrinkled paper on his desk, rereading the note.

Just lose it. Try to toss it out the window or something. That’s what I did. It’s how our link works after all.

Tim took a deep breath, both relieved that there was a possible way to return the book and nervous it wouldn’t work.

Taking the sketchbook, he opened up his bedroom window, looked down below and took a deep breath. He took a step back and with one swift move, he tossed the sketchbook out the window, wondering if it made its way safely back to its owner.

After what seemed like an hour, Tim found a crumpled piece of paper on his desk, quickly jogging towards it and opening, feeling a wash of relief flow out of him, Tim let himself smile as he looked at the paper.

It worked! Thank you so much! My name is Marinette...what’s yours?

Months flew by, Marinette now being in her senior year and grinning from ear to ear as she read Tim’s latest text to her, ignoring Alya’s nagging on packing for their trip.

Ever since the sketchbook incident, Marinette found out the reason as to why she was never able to “lose” anything to give to Tim. Or rather the two reasons why the link wasn’t working.

First off, Marinette had been intentionally losing items and always had her eyes on where it would land, which actually cancelled the link. Second, Tim’s fussing over the soulmate link caused it to weaken over time, which further didn't allow Marinette to send him anything over.

Through various days of aggressively sending each other notes, Tim decided to embrace the link while Marinette assured him that she would try to keep her enthusiasm to a low. Keyword: try.

Getting tired from the constant note throwing, Marinette suggested exchanging contact info. It’s how Marinette learned that Tim was very meticulous, and that was coming from his share of contact info. He had an email, phone number, fax number all carefully labeled with even hours in which Marinette was allowed to contact him.

At first Marinette thought he was a stick in the mud, but then Tim had to explain to her about time zones and how he was still in school and afterschool programs most of the week...oops. How did she forget about time zones and school of all things?

Using Marinette’s phone number and email, Tim was easily able to know where exactly Marinette lived, but that’s all he was able to figure out. It wasn’t exactly easy to figure out more about your soulmate when an enthusiastic Dick hovered around you upon knowing about Tim’s soulmate. It got worse when Tim officially moved into Wayne Manor after his father’s death.

But even with Dick hovering like a hummingbird, Tim found texting with Marinette soothing. To have a friend outside of school, out of the Justice League, to have a friend where he could just be Tim...it was...relaxing. Especially when he heard of Lila’s moving due to her mother’s job.

After all, it’s not like he had something to do with it. Absolutely not.

Of course, there were a few times he almost spilled the details, but he was easily able to catch himself, oftentimes redirecting it towards Marinette’s day or her latest commission.

Sometimes they would even video chat, although rarely thanks to time zones. But the few times they did, they would each ingrain each second they spent with each other, as they never knew when they were actually going to meet one day… even if it came closer than what either of them thought.

Tim reread his text for the umpteenth time, his mind still trying to process the message before realizing he hadn’t answered back.

Metropolis? As in, the city where the Man of Steel resides?

She...she was heading to Metropolis? In two days?

Thank Kon for dragging him here!

Marinette: Yup! To think we were able to win Luthor’s scholarship trip! Can you believe it? I can’t wait to see what his program could offer! When I found out that Luthor was holding a scholarship trip for those who would win his Foundation for the Arts’ essay competition, there was no way I was going to let that chance go! Especially when I heard that the trip was extended to the winner’s entire class, regardless of nationality. It would basically be our second senior trip before the first one ^^

Must be very excited then.

You bet I am!

To think...to think he would be able to see her in person… He watched as his happiness wrote for him.

Tim: Wanna hear something that would make the trip more exciting?

What would make this trip even more exciting?

Marinette hummed into the palm of her hand as she watched Tim type.

Tim: I’ll get to see you. Face to face. I’ll be in Metropolis for the next week...what are the odds?

Alya never saw Marinette turn red so quickly, watching as Marinette almost fell off her bed.

“Marinette! Oh my god, Nino! Help! She’s on cloud nine!”

Marinette fanned herself as she bit her lip, fiddling with the green ribbon she had wrapped around her wrist in case she wanted to tie her hair up.

Today was her second day in Metropolis, Marinette now nervous compared to when she first arrived the day before.

After having a tour of Metropolis University, Bustier’s class was able to have the day to themselves and as if on cue, Tim texted her if she was free even though she had already shared her itinerary with him the moment she recovered from her shock those days ago.

So now here she was, standing in Heroes’ Park, wondering if she looked foolish standing in front of Superman’s statue.

Or perhaps because she looked so out of place. Who wears a sunhat nowadays? Oh wait, she did...why exactly? Because freckles.

Marinette looked at her phone, wondering if she got the time wrong. No. She was literally a whole ten minutes early.

So why-

“You scream tourist you know.” A voice said, snapping Marinette from her thoughts. As she turned to see who it was, she felt her heart skip a beat.

He always seemed short, but...now being faced to face…

“Well, sorry for having freckles. The sun-” Marinette pouted, caught by surprised when Tim cupped her face.

“Freckles? I never knew you had them. Then again, you can’t really see them when they’re so small and through a screen at that.”

Marinette listened as her heart threatened to jump from her chest, more so when Tim realized what he was doing. Pink dusted his face. “Sorry, I-”

“I-It’s alright.” Marinette managed to find herself saying, pulling her hat closer to her face. “I...I also wasn’t expecting you to be taller than me.”

That caused Tim to sputter.

“You thought I was-”

“Hey! In my defense, I only had furniture to get some type of knowledge of how tall you were. Seems like I was wrong.” Marinette confessed.

The two stared at each other before laughing, Marinette attempting to reel in her heart with each laugh Tim let out. She didn’t think they would sound so different to what she was used to listening to through the phone.

When the two managed to compose themselves, Tim and Marinette looked at each other again. Marinette dusted off nonexistent dust off her yellow-canary shorts, readjusting her black purse that crossed her red blouse. Tim cleared his throat.

“Well, let’s start this again.” Marinette nodded, a smile on her face.

“Hey. My name is Marinette Dupain-Cheng.” She comfortably answered back, clasping her hand with the hand Tim offered. “I’m happy to finally meet you, Timothy.” Tim squeezed her hands, noticing how her hand fit perfectly in his.

Perhaps this was where his parents went wrong. Perhaps this is why their relationship didn’t work...lack of communication...lack of appreciation and affection…

But he won’t let them end but like them, not when he knows how much she means to him.

Giving her hand a squeeze, Tim smiled at him.

“As am I, Marinette.”

#maribat #timari #anju writes #MaribatDrabbleExchange

305 notes · View notes

indiee19 · 3 years

Text

In My Room (Part 2)

Alex Turner x reader

Summary: Part two of In My Room. Alex asks and takes you out on a date.

warnings: fluff

word count: 1967

A/N: Part three is currently being made

✿✼:*ﾟ:༅｡.｡༅:*･ﾟﾟ･⭑ ✿✼:*ﾟ:༅｡.｡༅:*･ﾟﾟ･⭑

When you woke up, you felt cold and alone and you moved you hand to feel around the bed for Alex. When you couldn't find him, you opened your eyes, blinking to adjust to the light and to wake yourself up.

"Alex," you said, looking around the room, searching for Alex. You sat up in the bed, your mind flashing back to last night. He came out of the bathroom in just his boxers.

"Yeah, love?" he asked, walking over to the bed, sitting down beside you.

"Nothing, just wondering where you were," you said. Alex smiled and leaned in to kiss you, you pulled back after a split second of the kiss.

"Wait. I haven't brushed my teeth yet," you said.

"It's fine, I don't care," he said and leaned back in to kiss you. You still refused to kiss him without having brushed your teeth, so you pushed him away. You wanted to kiss him again, you really did, but you didn't want morning breath while kissing him.

Alex sat back and you got up, walking to the bathroom. "Is there a toothbrush I can use?" you asked.

"Yeah, there should be a spare in there," Alex replied, getting up and showing you where it was and handed you his toothpaste.

You began to brush your teeth after Alex left, brushing your fingers through your hair once you were done. After you were done, you walked out of the bathroom and saw Alex putting on his pants.

"Can I kiss you now?" he asked, walking over to you and grabbed your waist. You nodded and he smiled and kissed you, his hands moving from your waist to your ass. He bit your bottom lip, demanding for entrance into your mouth and you complied, his tongue exploring your mouth. You could taste the last cigarette he'd had, more than likely while you were asleep.

You pulled away and cupped Alex's face. "You have really pretty eyes," you said. Alex blushed and playfully nudged your nose with his and you laughed.

"Yeah, but your eyes are even prettier," he said. You giggled and he let go of you and you walked over to the pile of your clothes. You picked up you shirt and put it on over your bra, taking off Alex's boxers and putting on your panties and pants.

You finished getting dressed and Alex walked over to you.

"Love, w-would you maybe ... I don't know ... want to go out for lunch with me?" Alex asked, grabbing your forearm lightly.

"Are you sure? B-because I don't want to interfere with your life," you said. You wanted to say yes, you wanted to go, but you also didn't want him to feel obligated to take you out.

"Yes, love. I'm sure," he replied, kissing your lips softly. "Okay, then. I'd love to go out to lunch with you," you said.

He smiled for probably the hundredth time since you'd been with him for the night. Then, you wondered what the public would think about this. He is Alex Turner so there was bound to be someone to spot you two together.

"Alex, what if someone, like, i don't know, paparazzi sees us? What would they think?" you asked. It took Alex a minute or two to find a way to respond to that question.

"Well, then I can just tell them that you're my new girlfriend, if you would want to be my girlfriend, that is," he responded nervously.

You didn't think twice. "Yes, Alex. I'd love to be your girlfriend." He laughed in excitement and picked you up, grabbing the underside of your thighs, kissing you passionately, spinning you around. You giggled at his excitement. He was more adorable than you had initially thought.

Alex kept walking around and spinning you around in the room in his arms, nearly tripping over his shoes. You laughed at his clumsiness and he put you down on the bed.

Alex grabbed his shoes and started to put them on, sitting down beside you. You looked at him confused.

"What? Get ready, love, we're leaving as soon as we can," he said and finished putting on his shoes, grabbing yours and handing them to you.

"Why so soon?" you asked.

"Because, love, it's already half past eleven," he replied, handing you the shoes again.

You didn't reealize that you slept that late, you would normally get up at ten—and that would be the latest you would get up at.

You took the shoes and began to put them on. Alex was waiting impatiently, excited to take you out on the date. Once you finished putting on your shoes, Alex grabbed you hand and pulled you up off the bed, quickly grabbing your handbag for you and handed you.

"Well, aren't you in a rush," you laughed when Alex opened the door and rushed you out of the room.

"I'm excited to take you out, love," he replied, quickly grabbing his wallet and shoving it in his pocket, shutting the door and grabbing you by the waist, walking down the hallway to the elevator with you right by his side.

When you turned the corner you saw Miles standing in front of the elevator, patiently waiting for it. Miles heard you and Alex turn the corner of the hallway and turned around, walking to you and Alex, giving the both of you a hug.

"There you are, Al," Miles said. "Nice to see you again, love. I were hoping that you would come with Al."

"You just saw us last night, Mi," Alex said. Miles hugged you and kissed your cheek.

"Yeah, but I still missed you. So, anyways, what did you two do last night?" Miles replied. Neither you or Alex could figure out what to tell Miles. When you couldn't think of something to say, you turned to Alex, hoping that he could come up with one.

"Well, we ... we talked and ... w-watched a movie and then we went to sleep. Right, love?" Alex said, tripping over his words, looking at you then back at Miles. "Oh, and I asked her to be my girlfriend earlier and she said yes," he added, kissing the top of your head.

"Oh, well that's great, Al," Miles said enthusiastically, hugging you and Alex once again.miles key congratuating you both, saying how happy he was for you and saying that Alex was lucky to have you.

The elevator dinged and the doors opened and after a few people got out, you three stepped inside and Miles pressed the ground floor button. Alex kept his arm around your waist, wanting you to be close to him at all times.

Once you reached the ground floor and got out of the elevator, Miles said his goodbyes. "I'll see you later tonight, Al ... and hopefully you too, love," he said and walked away after giving you both a big hug.

"What's later tonight?" you asked Alex, walking to the exit with him.

"There's a gig tonight. It's the last one we 'ave here in Germany, actually," he said sadly, looking down at the ground. It was only then that you realized that even though you were now his girlfriend, that you wouldn't see him until he came back or if you visited him and you looked down at the ground, sad.

Alex noticed your mood change and he tried to cheer you up. "Hey, I know you literally just agreed to be my girlfriend not even an hour ago, but we can make it work, I promise," he said. You smiled and the two of you began walking to down the sidewalk.

"So, where are we going to eat?" you asked, trying to change the subject.

"Well, where do you want to go?" Alex said. You thought for a moment and a place that reminded you of Alex immediately came to your mind. "It's a small corner restaurant and it reminds me of you," you said.

"Okay, lead the way then, love," Alex said. You took his hand and began leading him to the restaurant. It was about a seven minute walk and Alex and to stop every few minutes because a fan would want a picture, an autograph, or both.

You didn't mind waiting on him though, it was normal for him, and you would've done the same if you saw him and hadn't met him at the pub last night. After stopping quite a few times, you both eventually made it there at 11:55 A.M.

You went up to the counter and ordered your food, Alex doing the same and placing the order under his name. You and Alex found a table and sat down. You remembered something from last night and asked Alex about it. "Alex, why'd you pay my tab for me last night?"

"I-I payed your tab for you, because when I first saw you, I-I ... guess that I kind of formed. A rush on you. And then I started wondering if you would want to get to know me, and I guess that I was right," he explained, becoming a stuttering mess.

You told him how sweet that was and his face flushed. Yours and Alex's food came not long later and it didn't take either of you long to finish your food. While you both ate, you made conversation, like what you did for a living and about your family and you asked about his family as well.

By the time you were both finished it was already 12:59 and you were full. Alex got done not long after you and you both got up and went to the counter to pay the bill.

"Alex, let me pay this time," you said. You were thankful that he wanted to pay, but you also wanted to pay him back for paying for your tab and for the taxi last night.

"No, love. I asked you out so I'm going to pay," he said. You kept insisting that you should pay for your own food, but Alex didn't budge and when it was your turn to pay in the line, Alex was already getting the money out of his wallet and payed before you could reach into your bag and get your wallet out.

You and Alex left the restaurant and began walking back to the hotel. "Where are we going now?" you asked, kissing Alex's cheek.

"I was think that we could either go back to the hotel or we could look around until it's time for the gig," Alex replied, kissing your cheek in return. "So, which one do you want to do?"

"I think we should look around Berlin, I'd love to show you some of my favourite places here," you answered. Alex grabbed your hand and interlocked his fingers with your and lightly swung it with his. "Okay. Lead the way then, love," he said.

You started to lead him to the Berlin Wall Memorial, excited to sho him around. Alex for some reason stopped and you turned around to face him.

"You alright, Alex?" you asked, grabbing both of his hands.

"Yeah, just ... do you ... would you possibly want to come to the show tonight with me?" he asked, locking eyes with you.

"Of course I would," you said and then you kissed him, wrapping your arms around his neck and his wrapping around your waist. He pulled away and his forehead rested against yours.

"We should get going then if you want to show me around, unless you want to take this back to the hotel," he said.

"Okay, come on, Alex. We have a lot to visit before the show," you said, grabbing his hand and leading him to where you wanted to show him.

#alex turner #arctic monkeys #matt helders #jamie cook #alex turner arctic monkeys #alex turner smut #smut #alex turner x reader #alex turner fanfic #fanfic #alex turner fluff #fluff

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notafraidofredyellowandblue · 4 years

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Flake interview 2020-01

Not a new interview, but relatively recent, Flake with "Der Standard" 2020-01 before an appearance of Flake in Vienna (author Stefan Weiss), don't think there's a translation on the website, so here's a shot..:

Rammstein keyboardist Flake: "The reunification was a mess"

Christian "Flake" Lorenz hits the keys not only as a keyboardist, but also as an author. A conversation about controversial views on the GDR, fireworks and climate protection

At Rammstein he is the "keyfucker" - GDR jargon for keyboard players. His real name is Christian Lorenz, but he has been calling himself "Flake", pronounced in German, of course, since his youth. For a quarter of a century, the native of East Berlin has been the alien in the German rock band, the thin freak among the strong musclemen. In the meantime, Flake also hits the keys as an author: In "An was ich mich so erinnern kann" (2015) he wrote down his GDR experiences, followed in 2017 with "Heute hat die Welt Geburtstag", a literary autobiography about Rammstein. On March 26, Flake will come to Vienna's Globe Theater for a reading.

STANDARD: We are currently celebrating 30 years of 'Die Wende' *1). Your joy is limited, as one knows. How do you perceive the anniversary?

Flake: 'Die Wende' and reunification of Germany have to be separated. I experienced the change as a punk at the time. The ossified old concrete headframe of the GDR Politburo was also our enemy. We didn't want this idiotic regime anymore and we fought to loosen it up. When the wall came down, we didn't know what to do with the freedom we suddenly had. But then began an incredibly exciting time in which we tried to develop professionally, politically and musically in every direction.

STANDARD: And then came the reunification.

Flake: A lot went wrong from then on. We were annexed as a useless country, entire biographies were declared worthless, companies were closed so that the western companies could expand. We have been reset to such an extent that resentment and disappointment have built that have persisted until now. By and large, the reunification in this form was a mess.

STANDARD: If you look at Germany's east today, right-wing populism has recently had great political success there. A legacy of reunification?

Flake: Many people are disappointed because certain promises have not been fulfilled. But they already had the political left in their lives, now they are trying it with the right. Personally, I cannot understand how one can vote for the AfD *2). But those who do are doing it in large part in protest against the mainstream parties. It is clear that the AfD cannot meet expectations either. If the AfD were to rule, many people would notice very quickly that it is not getting better, but worse.

STANDARD: You grew up in the East Berlin punk scene. What are the differences between the East and West punks?

Flake: There was a fundamental difference: the Ostpunks didn't need any money because life was absurdly cheap, rent around 25 marks. The koney you made from one concert lasted over a month. So you could make the music you wanted to make and not just the music that sells well. Absurdly enough, it made us very free.

STANDARD: There were also IM Stasi informers among your band colleagues at the time (IM: unofficial employee, note). Aren't you angry with the repressive surveillance state of the GDR?

Flake: I'm not angry with IM informers in the bands. Because their IM status often made it possible for the bands to exist at all. The Stasi didn't lock up its own people. The best example of this is the GDR band 'Die Firma'. It was founded by IM informers. The gag was that 'Die Firma' ('The Company') was actually a synonym for "Stasi". Covered by the Stasi, they then sang anti-subversive texts. Almost brilliant really.

STANDARD: Do you understand when it is said that the GDR was an injustice state and that Stasi repression was a kind of terror?

Flake: I can understand it when people say that who have experienced it and suffered from it. But personally, I can't say that the whole state was bad. I don't want to know how many innocent people have been or are being imprisoned and monitored in the West. I do not find the generalization of the "unjust state" okay.

STANDARD: Would Rammstein have been conceivable in the GDR?

Flake: We wouldn't have founded a band like Rammstein within the GDR because it would have been the wrong answer to this system. We founded Rammstein because we noticed that our punk music wasn't getting anywhere in the West. It took harder stuff.

STANDARD: You have retained a kind of socialism within the band. Nevertheless, Rammstein is a millionaire company. Were there moments when you thought: The money could not only destroy our character but also the band?

Flake: Rammstein is a company where money fluctuates a lot. We have a lot of employees, we buy tons of pyrotechnics, we have a huge stage, costumes, our own electricity network, we shoot extremely complex videos. The money that remains private can actually hardly harm us, because it is so limited. We really have to make sure that the plus-minus calculation works out.

STANDARD: In your book "Heute hat die Welt Geburtstag" you describe the 25 years of Rammstein as a long partnership: It has become calmer in bed, but you understand each other blindly. Is divorce even an option?

Flake: Divorce is definitely not an issue. It's like a very long marriage: You don't even think about divorce anymore.

STANDARD: In the midst of tough muscle men, you were always the figure that breaks everything, especially in the interaction with singer Til Lindemann, who sometimes roasts you on stage like a cockroach. It looks like the traditional comedian constellation white clown and stupid August, Laurel and Hardy with SM components. How important is that to the show?

Flake: We developed that more by accident. We never made it up: you are the strong one, I am the weak one. At our first concerts we always stood around very haphazardly, then we started pushing and provoking each other. When I watch a normal heavy metal band I get bored easily. We always have something going on.

STANDARD: Do you sometimes long for a role change at Rammstein? To be the strong one for once?

Flake: Nah, I have other worries. With those couple of concerts, I can handle my role well enough.

STANDARD: Can you even enjoy appearances or does that only come afterwards? After all, a Rammstein show is precision work.

Falke: What do you mean enjoy? I enjoy when everything runs smooth and everything works like a machine. There are good and bad concerts, at the good ones we take off like an airplane.

STANDARD: Rammstein mixes black romanticism with black humor. You yourself love the blues, which often sails in similar waters. Can you draw joy out of melancholy?

Flake: The blues is the best example of this. Sadness and comfort go hand in hand. All of popular music arose from a problem of the respective author. This is exactly what you want to hear when you are not feeling well yourself. During puberty you normally don't want to hear "Walking on Sunshine" either.

STANDARD: Traditionally, there is also joy in melancholy and morbidity in Vienna. Is that the Eastern European impact?

Flake: Slavic music is very melancholic, on the other hand the Goth culture comes from the west. So I wouldn't really pinpoint that to anything local.

STANDARD: It is said that Rammstein did more to preserve the German language than all the Goethe Institutes put together. Are you proud of that?

Flake: Yeah. But the interesting thing is that we are regarded more highly abroad than in our own country. In Germany there is a lot of ranting: We are dull and foolish about Germany - complete nonsense.

STANDARD: Rammstein has always been compared to the totalitarian parody band Laibach. They recently played in North Korea with the aim of appearing subversive. Is something like that conceivable for Rammstein?

Flake: We'd have to think very carefully about what we want and why we want it. If that were to help someone, okay - but only to be able to say, "We're subversive now," that's not an argument.

STANDARD: For reasons of climate protection, there is an increasing number of missile bans. A topic for Rammstein?

Flake: We played a concert in Chicago once. The local fire protection was so rigorous that we shouldn't even have lit a match. Complete ban on pyro. We went on stage and said: either we are leaving because we are not allowed to make a fire here, or we are playing without. The audience wanted the latter, of course. And it became one of our best shows. You have to weigh it up a bit: should you stop all things like a Rammstein show for climate reasons? But I totally understand that there shouldn't be any more bangs on New Year's Eve. I was in Vienna once at the turn of the year, and there was relatively little banging. I thought that was good. Berlin is one of the most terrifying cities on New Year's Eve. There it's pure aggression.

Notes:

*1) i kept 'Die Wende' as the term for the political transformation in east germany, not sure what the official english phrase is

*2) AfD, short for 'Alternative für Deutschland' or 'Alternative for Germany' is a right-wing populist political party, often characterized as far-right, known for its opposition to the European Union and immigration

#flake interview #rammstein interview #interview 2020 #again with the marriage analogy #😊#rammstein #flake lorenz

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