#like the first book is a good introduction to the violence and heaviness that will be prevalent thru the whole series but truly each book

[prophecyofgray]

i'm 9 yrs older than my little sister (same age gap between gregor and boots) so i always think of her as boots However it just today crossed my mind that she is now 11 which is the same age as gregor at the start of TUC. so i think i need to lie down now

[studying-with-k]

4/5/24

Give it up for the mid-first week of may! (I nearly passed away cause of the heatwave and the rains are finally here which is a blessing !!!) Also peep the stack of books I have that are books I wanna finish before I leave (I am as the people say cooked).

I really did enjoy the book protest and survive that really taught me a lot on the American Nuclear war policy which I call lie and threaten, not that the erstwhile Soviet Union wasn't any better (during the peak of the cold war). But it showed how NATO skepticism wasn't anything new especially back in the 1980s. Nuclear war policy at the time was a mad dash of how much can we store in our nations and balancing sovereign military power and agency of being a country. If you ever snag a copy I highly recommend it if you like reading about people worrying about nuclear war. The latter part of the book has a heavy focus on demilitarization which was really intriguing, cause mainly because I haven't personally come across a lot of texts dealing with that topic.

Other than that I did finish Fanon's On Violence and it was every bit interesting I knew it was going to be, I'm pumped to get to the chapter on national culture. hopefully whenever I get to start Ted Honderich's "Violence for Equality" I have a solid basis to work with.

I am around 25% through with Ilan Pappe's book and I HIGHLY recommend reading it matter of fact read all his work on Palestine for a really good introduction to their liberation struggle!!!

Also before anyone asks yes Calcifer is on a date, and yes he is photo shy.

[iobsessoverfictionalmen]

It's a highway to hell but, oh the things we do for love (7)

This fic is a Greek mythology au. This fic includes: betrayal, attempted human sacrifice, violence, choking, character death, cursing, forced marriage, mentions of nightmares, references to Greek mythology, enemies to lovers, and manipulation. It gets a bit suggestive at the end.

Tagging: @imwithyoutiltheendofthelinebucky, @greep215

Chapter 7

The day of your coronation as Queen of the Underworld dawned like any other.  The only indicators that this day was an important one were the suits of armour scuttling around ensuring that each and every one of the king’s demands for the coronation were met, the constant influx of guests that were arriving in the underworld and the decorations that Abigail, Dave, and Drake had arranged all throughout the underworld.

Word had spread quickly throughout the underworld about Minthe’s fate and your coronation.  Abigail was among the first to hear about Minthe’s fate and the second that she learned the news, she attached herself to your side and refused to be parted from you. 

Speaking of the goddess, Hades had called her into the throne room and had informed her that she was for all intents and purposes, grounded for tearing out a page from one of his books.  Abigail was still permitted to paint but for the next two weeks, she was banned from using magic unless Hades was present.  The goddess sniffled and had pleaded with the god to lighten her punishment with teary eyes but the god had remained firm.

Dave had loaned you some incredibly ancient scrolls that contained instructions on how to master powers and you found it very easy to chat to the older god due to the fact that he had become a god later than Abigail had and there were a few things that you two had in common.

Thanatos was perhaps the most surprising when the news about Minthe and your coronation reached his ears.  He eyed you with wonder (after ensuring that the story about Minthe was true) and then it was like a switch in him had been flicked.  Thanatos stated that you had “earned the right to call me by my mortal name, Drake.”  He also regaled you with tales about him discovering that he had magic before he journeyed into the underworld.

Of the three of them, Drake was the first to journey into the underworld and become Thanatos.  You learnt that he studied magic under Hades and he followed his mentor into the underworld.  You were tempted to ask Drake whether or not he knew what Hades’ mortal name was but you quashed that impulse.  If your time with Drake had taught you anything, it was that Hades would reveal his mortal name when he chose to.

Heavy clanging sounds brought you back into the present and you paused mid-step in the middle of your quarters.  With a dry laugh, you noted the fact that you had been pacing without realising it.  The door to your quarters swung open just as you decided it would be a good idea to run your hands down your coronation outfit and smooth out any creases.

Dave stood on the other side of your door with an impish smile, “Figured you’d prefer a godly escort rather than a tin metal one.”

You shook your head with a smile at the god’s antics once the realisation sunk in that he had used his powers to trick you.  You walked towards him and when you were close enough, Dave held out his arm.  After looping your arm through his, he escorted you through the halls and to the throne room. 

It didn’t take the two of you very long to reach your destination however, just as you spotted the familiar doors to the throne room, Dave drew to a stop and pulled you to the side, out of sight of the crowd, and looked at you seriously, “You won’t be doing this alone.  Take it one step at a time.”

“How did you know what I was thinking?”

“I’ve been where you are.” Dave pointed to himself, “My introduction to the court went pretty well if you ignore the fact that I set the king’s throne on fire.”

Laughter burst out of you as you looked at the god, “You have to tell me the story someday.”

“We’ll have all the time in the underworld after the ceremony.”

Feeling a little more at ease and with a grin on your face you assured the god that you were ready.

Dave led you through the doors and into the throne room.  The throne room was so lavishly decorated that for a minute, you thought you were attending a wedding back on Earth.  Then the guests turned to face you and Dave and you spied a wide variety of demons and other beings from different sections of the underworld.

Your breath hitched as you noticed Hades sitting in his throne at the end of the aisle.  As you approached, he rested his arms on the armrests of his throne and rose gracefully to his feet to greet you and Dave.  Your eyes traced his profile pausing to admire the way he looked in his black ceremonial suit.  Atop his suit, he wore a wrap and the two pieces of the wrap were fastened together by a round silver clip which rested on his left shoulder.

It felt like there was a better word to describe the clothing on top of Hades’ suit but you couldn’t think of it.  Then, without warning, the word appeared in your mind as if it had been there all along. 

“Himation.  It’s a himation.”

Dave stopped again.  This time you withdrew your arm from his and made your way up the stairs to stand opposite Hades on the dais.  The god held out his hands and with no hesitation, you placed your hands in his.  

The god squeezed them and warmth pooled in your stomach at the god’s act of kindness and reassurance.  Hades turned away from you and faced the pathway that you and Dave had walked up.  You moved your head in time to see Dave retreat several steps when he saw Drake and Abigail making their way up the aisle.

Abigail was dressed in a black and green chiton with flickering torches across her sleeves and neckline.  In her outstretched hands sat a smaller version of Hades’ crown.  However there were a few differences between Hades’ crown and your crown.

Your crown.

Somehow thinking the words made this ceremony feel all the more real.

The crown that Abigail was carefully carrying wasn’t made up entirely of gold nor did it have a ruby in the centre like Hades’ did.  This crown was made up of three very different metals.  The majority of the crown was made up of silver moonstone.  The moonstone made up about half of the crown.  The next metal that you noticed was dull silver and your eyebrows drew together when you noticed the symbols on it.  One of the symbols was the head of Medusa and the other was an upside-down anchor with a crustacean at the top of the symbol.  The upside-down anchor also had the letter A on the left-hand side of it.  The last portion of the crown was made up of bronze.

Drake walked three paces behind Abigail.  He stood tall and his clothing was similar to Hades’ although you noticed that Drake had added frosted tips to his hair, eyeliner under his eyes and he was wearing knee high boots that made him look taller than normal.

You knelt as Abigail approached the dais with the crown and you obeyed the instinct that told you to keep your eyes on Abigail while she placed the crown on your head.  The crown was lighter than you expected yet it thrummed with power and responsibility.

“Since I’ve known you the longest, my part of the crown is the biggest.  Dave and Drake added bits to the crown too.” Abigail whispered.

“I love it,” you uttered, matching her volume.

Climbing to your feet, you returned to standing opposite Hades.  This time you were the first to offer your hands to the god.  With a reverent expression, Hades placed one of his hands in yours and gripped it tightly.  He showed you the palm of his other hand and unspoken, a black speck appeared in it.  As you watched, more black specks appeared on Hades’ hand.  The black specks rose to join the others and at the same time, all of the black specks rose into the air.  They swirled around each other building up speed. 

You blinked and the specks sped towards each other at a speed that you didn’t know was possible.  The specks merged together creating a black pomegranate that fell back into the god’s palm.  With another unspoken command, the pomegranate was divided into quarters, allowing you to glimpse the reddish flesh that lay inside.

Hades searched your face for any signs of hesitation.  When he found none, he used his grip on your hand to pull you forwards and place one of the pomegranate quarters between your parted lips.  You bit down on the quarter and the juices from the fruit flowed into your mouth.  It was richer than anything you had ever tasted before but there was an underlying sweetness to the fruit. 

“If a pomegranate isn’t a perfect metaphor for the underworld, I don’t know what is.”

You swallowed the quarter and then Hades fed you the next one.  This continued until all quarters of the fruit were gone.  Hades’ finger grazed your lip and for a moment, it felt like the two of you were the only ones that were in the room.   In this moment, you knew that you were seeing the man behind the god again, just like when Abigail had taught you to navigate the corridors of the underworld after her nightmare.   The way he gazed at you with such intensity made you wonder why you considered leaving him and the underworld behind. 

Hades’ eyes lingered on your lips which unbeknownst to you had been stained red from the juices of the pomegranate.  His finger left your bottom lip and traced a soft path until it rested on your chin.  You registered additional pressure around your chin and realised that Hades was gripping your chin with his thumb and forefinger.  Your heart started pounding as Hades dipped his head and pressed his mouth to yours in a forceful and dominating kiss.

You had no idea how long the kiss lasted for but when Hades broke the kiss and moved a tiny amount away from you, you glimpsed many emotions swirling in his gaze.   You were able to identify pride, love, admiration, and a glimmer of lust before he released your chin and grasped your hand again.  The god then used his grip on your hand to turn you so that you were both facing the assembled crowd.

“Behold the Queen of the Underworld!” He commanded and the room erupted in cheers and applause.  The loudest of the cheers and clapping came from Abigail, Drake, and Dave.  Drake even stuck two of his fingers in his mouth and whistled a couple of times but after a disapproving look from Hades, Drake withdrew his fingers, cleaned them with a hanky that he conjured, stuck the hanky in his pocket and continued to clap and cheer loudly.

Hades let go of your hand and wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you into his side tightly.

“Look at your subjects.”  He ordered.

“They are your subjects as well Hades,” you reminded him.

“Maxim.”  He corrected.

You frowned at the god that you were happy to call your husband, “I’m sorry?”

“When I was human my name was Maxim Horvath.”  He lowered his head so that his lips grazed your ear.  These words were for you and you alone, “I haven’t used that name in quite some time but I would have no objection if you were to scream the first part of it when you and I are alone together in our new quarters.”

[moviemunchies]

By Frank, they did it! They made an excellent follow-up to Dune: Part One!

We’re going to have a couple of minor spoilers in this review; be aware.

After the events of the first movie, Paul Atreides has joined the Fremen in their fight with the Harkonnens. He becomes a leader among them, and even finds love in Chani, one of the lead freedom fighters. But his role as leader stirs some to think he’s their prophesied messiah. That’s a role he doesn’t want to take, because he’s foreseen how much violence it will lead to across the galaxy, and Chani (correctly) sees the prophecy as a method the Bene Gesserit use to manipulate and colonize. As the conflict goes on, however, Paul finds himself wondering if he has to use this image of himself as a messiah; not helping, his mother has started pushing his cult among the Fremen.

Gosh, this movie was great. The first movie and this one reminded me of what it was like to watch an epic film series, a sequence of stories told cinematically in a fantastical setting that build on each other, and together tell a coherent, complete story. Do you remember when everyone was trying to do that? I’m not talking about comic book films, obviously. A lot of films didn’t succeed, to be sure, but then teen romance films became A Thing, and then dystopian films became a thing, and then comic book films, and so most studios didn’t even try to do these kinds of epics anymore. So I was very happy to see Dune managing it.

I am bummed that we’re not going to receive an extended edition, like we did with Lord of the Rings. I know that these movies are already very long, but the director admitted that he cut a lot of things to make it all fit

The changes to the narrative are noticeable, to those who have read the book, but I think they work. A lot of people came away from the original Dune novel thinking that it’s a straightforward Hero’s Journey, and that the following books are a departure from that, even though there are hints throughout that book that Paul becoming a messiah figure is A Very Bad Thing. These movies maybe beat you over the head with that, though I think it ultimately works because, yeah, it’s a very bad thing, and it all goes south incredibly quickly.

Making Chani the main voice of the, “Wow, this messiah business is some BS, huh?” opinion is an interesting choice. It is a bit heavy-handed in how it gives you the intent of the messiah storyline to the audience; it is also good that someone has this view in the movie, because yes, the prophecy was invented to do what Chani says it was–manipulate a populace. I’m curious as to how the third movie, if it happens, will go with her, as the version in the book is fine with the messiah role. She has a large part in Dune: Messiah, and I don’t know how it will fit in with the version of Chani that’s in this movie. 

We should also talk about the Bene Gesserit? They’re interesting, but there is one part of the film that doesn’t quite work for me. Slight spoiler, but in this movie, it’s revealed that they’re the architects of the plan to wipe out House Atreides. That doesn’t make any goshdarn sense, given that they wanted Jessica and Paul to survive in the last movie, and it’s unclear what they would get out of this. It makes more sense the idea as it is in the books–that the Emperor wiped them out because he saw it as a threat to his power without direct action, but also a way to weaken House Harkonnen.

There are some creative choices in the direction of the way things look? Mostly I’m thinking of the Harkonnen homeworld in this film, which is a really fun change of pace. The way it looks is completely different from both Arrakis and the Atreides homeworld. It not only shows you what’s it like for a world under Harkonnen control, and the entire sequence develops their family. And it’s a great introduction to Feyd-Rautha, a key character in the proceedings of the story’s climax.

It’s a fantastic film. It’s an excellent sequel to the first one, and it displays just how much the director understands what he’s doing in telling a visual story. I love this and I want to see more of it. Not just in the sense of wanting to see the sequel (which I do), but I want to see more of these kinds of movies. The big epics, the ones that are telling big stories with epic battles in multiple parts, told by directors who know how to make them memorable instead of copying what’s already been made popular.

[wahlpaper]

Some Girls Do Review

Some Girls Do by Jennifer Dugan

CW: Abusive Parent, Emotional Abuse, Physical Abuse, Homophobia, Queerphobia, Legal Struggles, College Admission Struggles, Money Problems, Swearing, Underage Drinking, Blood, Violence, Discussion of Sex, Mentioned Transphobia, Outing, Bullying, Domestic Abuse, Misogyny, Classism, Slut-Shaming

5/5

Sometimes a book will give you something you weren't expecting. In my case, Jennifer Dugan's Some Girls Do gave me closure for Hayley Kiyoko's Girls Like Girls novel. They each have a relationship with a similar dynamic, even though they're set 15 years apart. It's what Kiyoko's book should have been. Some Girls Do also made me understand why I still had a draw to Dugan's writing despite her other books (more on this later). This novel was so sweet and well written, and it also understood how to handle the heavy material included.

Some Girls Do starts when Morgan transfers to a new school near the end of the school year in her senior year of high school. Ruby runs into her that day, almost. Despite their rocky start, these two girls can't help but be interested in the life of the other. Morgan is facing a legal battle with her old school, which had discriminated against her for being a lesbian. She's a track star, but this is leaving her future in question. Ruby is seen as white trash because she's poor and does pageants at her mother's request. Except she doesn't have much control over her life at all. What she wants is to fix cars, and she might have a plan to do that. Will Morgan and Ruby be able to help each other or will they make things worse?

My first introduction to Dugan was Hot Dog Girl. I liked the book well enough, I even recommended it to a few people. Ultimately, the relationship didn't really work in it. The love interest deserved better than the main character. I tried Verona Comics next. Shakespeare, comics, and a bi dude? That absolutely sold it! Unfortunately, the relationship was so toxic that I'm not sure how I made it through the book. Despite only having read these two books by Dugan, I never swore off her writing. Her books have been on my radar. I can tell they do well because there's always a line on Libby. I'm careful about putting books on hold because I don't want them all to come in at once, but I finally put two more of Dugan's books on hold (look out for Love at First Set in the future!). I'm glad I did, as I was enamored with Some Girls Do the whole time.

It should come as no surprise by this point that the thing I valued the most in Some Girls Do was the relationship between Morgan and Ruby. Only one was out and both were experiencing queerphobia within their communities. Morgan had recently left a bad relationship and Ruby didn't feel safe enough to commit to one, no matter the gender. There were a lot of chances for their relationship to not work, but the book explored what they could do about that. It never felt like Dugan was asking us to accept a situation that felt toxic as romantic. She learned, for sure. She also included a range of queer experiences and showed the importance of queer spaces for teenagers. Other queer identities included in this novel were trans, non-binary, and pansexual. Different experiences and situations were also explored. Not everyone has the same queer experience, but we can still be stronger and safer together. 

One thing I enjoy about Some Girls Do is that not everything has to be neatly tied up or turn out the way you expect for the characters to find happiness or a good future. The book absolutely has an ending, but there's the suggestion that the story is still ongoing for Morgan and Ruby. They still have things to face and enjoy in the future, but we got to be there while they went through this part. Although the pacing was confusing at times it didn't affect my appreciation of the novel. Dugan is great with plot and world-building, and now characters too. This book was released back in 2021, so I'm excited to see how she's grown since!

If you're looking for a heavy but wholesome queer teen love story, Some Girls Do by Jennifer Dugan is a great option. You'll get rewarded with 2 whole instances of the title being said by characters, relatable queer thoughts, and lines that make you laugh out loud. Go on and give the book a try, you know that some girls do!

[burnedhousehorizon]

The real problem with Don’t Look Up is not whether it’s a good or a bad movie, or whether it’s heavy-handed or not, but that its central allegory (comet heading for Earth = climate change) is flawed to the point of nonsense.

A mainstay of climate change theory (which I know the people involved in making Don’t Look Up are familiar with the at least the trendiest ends of, given that one of its production companies is named Hyperobject Industries) is the argument that climate change is an especially vexed and insidious problem due to its fundamental unrepresentability. A good primer on this idea can be found in the introduction to Rob Nixon’s book Slow Violence and the Environmentalism of the Poor, where Nixon talks about the fact that violence is “customarily conceived as an event or action that is immediate in time, explosive and spectacular in space, and as erupting into instant sensational visibility” (2)— but that the the violence of climate change is not like this, and therefore doesn’t fit into our assumptions of what violence must be. Nicholas Mirzoeff, in an influential essay on “Visualizing the Anthropocene,” talks about how human influence on climate can’t be seen, only visualized. And there are a thousand other theorists who have analyzed the attritional, distributed, displaced, and often stochastic nature of anthropogenic climate change. 

A comet impact, on the other hand, constitutes exactly the kind of spectacular violence that climate change does not. Indeed, the very first scene of Don’t Look Up establishes this: Jennifer Lawrence, as a grad student, sees the comet headed for earth. We, the audience, are shown several images that show the comet proceeding on its trajectory. The comet has a size and mass; it is compared to past impacts (Chicxulub) so that we can imagine the exact nature of its destruction. It has a location (somewhere off the coast of Chile) and a timeline: Lawrence’s character calculates, down to the second, the exact moment when it will hit. 

Furthermore, the comet’s impact will affect everyone on Earth equally. It is an event of total planetary destruction that does not differentiate between rich and poor. This is part of what makes it an attractive allegory for climate change, I suspect, as it allows filmmakers and viewers to elide exactly the issue that Rob Nixon talks about in his book: that climate change and other environmental crises do not affect all people on Earth equally, but rather allow for violence to be “outsourced” to the poor and, chiefly, to the Global South. If we imagine climate change as a comet impact, then it is a disaster that comes from out there, and we have no part in perpetuating its trajectory or choosing who suffers on account of it. In reality, we do. 

More broadly, what makes the comet an attractive allegory is that, by eliminating the uncertainty of climate change (its stochastic nature, its attrition, its displacement in time and space, its inability to viscerally touched or seen), it renders climate change simple to deal with. It suggests that there is an action we can perform to avert disaster. This is the philosophically optimistic approach. But the reality is that climate change is not this kind of problem. Climate change is embedded in our civilization, not incidental to it; it does not come from out there in space, but from every small action that we perform in our day-to-day lives and the enormous infrastructure, both material and ideological, that underlies those actions. The allegory of the comet allows us to believe that we do not have to address this issue in order to stop climate change. But again: in reality, we do.

[basicmyherowhore]

Stranger with Your Face [5]

[0] [1] [2] [3] [4] [6] [7] [8] [9]

Summary: Things seem to be falling into a sense of normalcy. You're happy in your new home with Katsuki and Izuku. Everything is great! Until one day...

Pairings: Various Mha x Reader, Bakugo x Reader, Midoriya x Reader

Warnings: Violence, physical attacks, use of needles for injections, bits of angst and self frustration

Notes: I'm sorry I keep lying about when new characters are going to be introduced lmao, but I swear you'll be getting not one, but TWO new boys in the harem! Also if you look closely enough, you might see traces of an introduction to one that will be joining later in the story. Things are slow now, but once our main boys are introduced things will be picking up! Who are you guys hoping to see join in?

Soon after moving into the apartment with Katuski and Izuku, you find that the three of you have fallen into a rhythm. Days come in and days go out but they all feel familiar. A continuing pattern almost.

You start your day with one of the two men waking you up to let you know they’re leaving for work. Izuku does it with a soft voice and a gentle touch. Katuski though, is a bit more heavy handed with more gravel in his voice. Their approaches are polar opposites, yet their intentions towards you are the same. They want you to have a good day while they’re gone and to let you know that you’re safe with the other hero. Neither of the men explicitly say these things, but you know that’s what they mean.

After you leave your room, you cross the hall to use the bathroom and brush your teeth. There are three toothbrushes standing in the holder, a green one, an orange one, and a light purple one. You didn’t pick your toothbrush out, but seeing the one meant for you amongst Izuku’s and Katuski’s gives you an odd sense of home. It’s weirdly comforting.

You head to the kitchen after you leave the bathroom, usually at this time whoever stayed home is working on breakfast. Katuski is easily the best cook in the house, but Izuku’s fluffy pancakes could give the blonde a run for his money. However, that’s pretty much all Izuku knows how to cook, so most often you eat out for breakfast when it’s his day home. Katsuki hates it, but you don’t mind at all. Especially because Izuku will let you sneak a sweet this early in the morning. Katsuki would loose his mind if he caught you eating sweets anytime before dinner.

If no one is cooking, you go to the snack cabinet and grab a breakfast bar or a fruit out of the fridge. After eating your small breakfast, you go on to continue your search for whoever is staying home on this day. If they aren’t in the kitchen, then they’re almost always in the living room.

The one exception to this is the one day you couldn’t find Katuski anywhere and began to panic thinking he’d left you alone. By the time he emerged from the room at the end of the hall, you were nearly sobbing. With a great relief at seeing his face, you flung yourself on him, wrapping yourself around him like a koala bear.

At first he meant to push you off of him, but when he realized how distraught you were he held you tight and apologized. He explained to you that the room at the end of the hall was his office and that he had some work he needed to attend to since he was spending so much time at home. After getting you to calm down he apologized for not telling you sooner and promised to tell you when he would be in there for a while. But he reiterated that you were not to go in there for any reason.

After locating your company for the day you usually find something to do with them until lunch comes around. Sometimes you and Izuku will read books, having your own mini book club. Katuski likes to watch shows with you, you only watch on the days he’s home so neither of you gets ahead. I’m very rare occasions, sometimes the men will take you out to go places. Most of the time it’s just the weekly trip to the hospital to meet with the doctors, but sometimes it’s an actual treat.

Katuski likes to take you out for lunch of these special occasions, but only to restaurants made for hero’s to eat in peace without being swarmed by the media. Izuku likes to take you shopping, but only if he calls ahead of time to rent out the mall for a block of time so the two of you aren’t surrounded by people. While you think both of these things must be ridiculously expensive, neither man has any qualm with spending that much money. Especially when it comes to guaranteeing your safety.

After lunch on a normal day everything seems to go much faster. With a full belly you tend to take a nap for an hour or so before getting back up and finding something to do. Whoever is home will do their best to keep you entertained until the third returns home for dinner.

When the third does finally get home, they’ll work on dinner together. You’ve offered to help many times but they always shoot you down. You hope to convince them to let you try cooking at least once. As dinner dishes are being rinsed and dried, you pick the movie of the night in the living room. Sometimes Katuski will make a snack for during the movie if he’s in a good mood. If Izuku makes the snack, it’s just microwaved bag popcorn.

The three of you watch the movie together in various positions. Sometimes if you’re feeling lonely, you’ll rest you’ll cuddle up to one of the men with your blanket. It’s always whoever you feel closest to at the time so it’s always changing. But both men accept your cuddles with open arms. You never notice how the one sitting alone glares at the other.

When the movie is over you’ll take a census of whether or not to play another. Usually the one who has work the next day will go to bed, but sometimes they’ll stay up for a bit longer and watch the first half of the second movie before turning in. Then you and whoever is left will watch the second movie. If you both manage to stay awake through that then you might start a third. More often than not you fall asleep during the movie. However, after the first night when you fell asleep on the couch, you wake up in your bed in the morning. Both men deny carrying you to your room, claiming that you walk there yourself and just can’t remember. But you never thought you were much of a sleep walker.

All of your days followed this pattern with small discrepancies here and there, but this was pretty much the general outline to your current life. Until it all changed.

The night before was the same as any other. Katuski stayed home with you that day so he was supposed to work the next day and Izuku was supposed to stay home. You and Izuku stayed up watching a movie until your fell asleep around 3 or 4 in the morning. Katuski left for work at 5:30. He didn’t say goodbye. It’s around 7 when you hear Izuku’s phone ring from the living room. You’re only half awake initially, but when his voice raises in panic it shocks all the sleep from your system. He begins rushing around the condo, unintentionally slamming doors and stepping heavily. You stand in your doorway watching his swarm about in a frenzy.

“Oh you’re awake. I’m sorry if I woke you up.” He halts when his eyes meet yours, giving an apologetic smile.

“It’s okay, it’s about time for me to get up anyway.” You give a small shake with your head, indicating that you aren’t upset. “What’s going on?” You watch as his small smile slips into a frown.

“I probably shouldn’t be telling you this, but I’d hate to leave you in the dark. This morning when Kacchan went to patrol there was a large scale villain attack. Three different areas in the city were targeted all around the same time so we’re assuming they were coordinated.” Izuku pushes his hair out of his face with a frustrated sigh. “There are a lot of hero’s and civilians injured and missing. Most of them are scattered in the debris. More and more hero agencies are being contacted to assist with search and rescue.”

As you listen to him speak you feel your heart rate begin to rise. “Is Katsuki okay?” You couldn’t disguise the worry in your tone if you wanted to, not that you even care to.

“The last that I heard he was fine. He’s not a hero that specializes in search and rescue but they’re taking anything they can get.” He pauses for a moment, taking in a deep breath. “That’s why I’ve been called in to help.”

“Oh.” Is all you can muster. It feels hard to breath and your hands suddenly feel clammy. Izuku can see your eyes beginning to glaze.

“I know, I’m so sorry. I know you hate being alone. We hate leaving you alone too.” He pulls you into his chest, giving you a tight hug in attempt to comfort you.

Usually it would have worked.

Over the near three months that you’ve spent with Izuku and Katsuki, you’ve grown very comfortable with the two men. It was to the point where hugs and cuddles were exchanged often. Being in either of their arms is where you felt safest because you knew that they would do anything necessary to keep you safe.

Since you know he’s leaving, this time it didn’t work.

“I wouldn’t leave right now if I didn’t think I absolutely had to. But there are a lot of people who need help right now and it’s my job to help them.” Izuku holds your face with gentle hands, his green eyes starring deeply into your own.

“I get it, it’s okay.” You nod with your eyes turned down towards the floor, not wanting to meet Izuku’s eyes. He can feel you trembling, shaking like a leaf in the wind. Guilt swarms within him.

“I-“ Izuku pauses, not wanting to give you an estimated time that may not be true. Izuku hates lying. “I’m gonna come back to you as soon as I can. Just promise me you’ll keep the doors locked. Do not open the door, no matter what.” This time Izuku forced your gaze to meet his own. His eyes bore into yours.

“I promise.” You squeeze his hands that are resting on your face. He smiles at you, silently thanking the stars that you were such a good girl...his good girl...

Though he hates to do it, Izuku has to pull away. There are people waiting on him. He grabs his duffle and jogs towards the door, sparring you one last glance as he goes. You give him a small wave as you watch him shut the door behind him, the locks sliding into place with a soft click. His thudding footsteps fade down the hall.

Once again you find yourself alone, with no company other than your thoughts. The silence and still air reminded you of being in the hospital. You hate the hospital. After remaining still for a few moments to collect yourself, you take a step forward moving towards the living room. All of your movements feel sluggish, like you’re in a dream and can only move in slow motion.

When you finally reach the couch you plop down on it, picking up the remote and flicking to the live tv stations. You’re curious to see if there is any live coverage on the attack that Katsuki and Izuku are dealing with. You flip to the news station but don’t see anything about it. Just the little scrolling bar on the bottom briefly mentioning two attacks on the city, as of now no fatalities but multiple injuries.

Reading those lines causes something to stir within you. People are injured, people are missing. And the heros are working hard to help them because that’s what heros do. You...You were a hero once. Or, at least you were almost a hero. But then you went missing for 7 years and life moved on without you. If you aren’t a hero, then what are you?

The news of your return isn’t mainstream yet, very few people even know that you’re still alive. To everyone else, those who once knew you or knew of you, what are you now? A memory. But it’s been so long, now it’s probably more like a forgotten memory. Something that was once so familiar, overtime became less recalled. You became so unimportant that you faded from people’s thoughts and eventually, from their memories.

You find it hard to be upset with the world around you through. It would be quite hypocritical to be mad at people for forgetting you, when you can’t even remember who you are. 24 years of your life are a mystery to you. You can’t remember who you were before you went missing and you can’t remember a millisecond of the time that you were gone. You are just a blank slate.

If you could just remember then maybe things would be different. Where did you go 7 years ago? Think, think, just think. Who were you with? You know the answer, just think harder. What did you do? It has to be somewhere in your mind. Why are you back?

Your head begins to throb as your force yourself to dig deeper, attempting to clear away the sludge claiming your memories. You double over on to your knees, your hands clutching at your head. It isn’t that you just can’t remember anything, no, now you see that something is blocking your memories. They aren’t erased or missing, simply buried. You tell yourself that if you just keep thinking, you’ll begin to pick away at the blockage.

A pain surges in your brain, you yelp in pain but continue on. You feel like your close to something, it’s on the edge of the fog. It’s a face. A man’s face that looks so familiar. But you can’t think of his name, it hasn’t made it through yet. If you keep pushing, you can get more. Just keep going, you say it like a mantra in your head. You’re in so deep you almost don’t hear the knock at the door. Technically, you don’t hear it until a knock turns into a bang.

You jolt back to reality, feeling clammy with a throbbing pain in your head. You feel dazed as you walk towards the door. You stand on your tip toes to see out the peephole. Its Katuski and Izuku. Had you really been out that long?

Something doesn’t feel right though. Why are they just standing there? They aren’t talking, aren’t calling through the door, they’re just standing there. Izuku’s voice from earlier echos in your mind.

“Do not open the door, no matter what.”

Wouldn’t they have keys to get in? They’ve never needed you to open the door before. No, something about this just doesn’t feel right.

“Y/N.” Izuku calls calmly, knocking gently at the door again. Katuski looks like he’s getting more annoyed by the second, the scowl deepening on his face. He pushes Izuku away to pound on the door as well, the loud banging ringing through the condo.

“I’m done fucking waiting.” Is your only warning before Katuski’s hands light up with sparks. You only have seconds to jump away from the door before it’s blown off of its hinges and broken it pieces.

Both men look around for a moment before their eyes meet your own, watching you lay mere feet away from them shaking.

“Y/N, why didn’t you let us in?” Izuku asks, a twisted look worming onto his face making you cringe. He didn’t look like himself at all. He tuts, shaking his head before leaning out the doorway and falling down the hall. “It’s open!”

Even with your ears ringing after Katsuki’s explosion you can hear the heavy thud of footsteps. Each one sounded louder than the last and as whoever drew closer you could feel dread flooding your stomach. Whatever is going on here can only be bad news.

“Took you long enough. And you had to blow up the door. Didn’t I say keep damage to a minimum.” A gravelly voice is heard just beyond your line of sight. It’s familiar, like you know it from somewhere, like you almost uncovered this memory but not completely.

“She wasn’t opening the door!” Izuku whines in defense, crossing his arms with a pout. You’ve never seen him act like this. You’ve never seen either of the two act like this, what is going on?

“Whatever, as long as it’s open.” A loud thud echos into the room as a boot stomps over a shard of the door. The rest of the man’s body follows, your eyes trail the length of his legs to his torso to his neck. All leading up to a heavily scarred face, staples seeming holding it all together. “Would you look at this? My little Doll, laid out right before me.”

The dangerous glint in his eye has your heart racing even faster than it was before. You attempt to crawl away, to scoot back, to do anything to get you away from him. But when a searing pain shoots through your ankles, you realize there was more damage done than you originally thought. For each inch that you manage to move away he takes another step forward until he reaches you.

You watch in frozen fear as the man squats down before you, eyeing you like a prize that he’d won. A scarred hand reaches out towards you and you flinch away, closing your eyes and bracing for incoming pain. Instead you are met with a gentle touch to your face. You hesitantly crack open an eye to see the strange man watching you, his gaze seemingly a bit softer now.

“You really don’t remember a thing.” He murmurs quietly, eyes scanning your face like he’s searching for something. “To be honest I’m not a fan of this new plan at all, but Crusty is adamant that this is the best for now.” He shakes his head disappointedly, reaching into his pocket and grabbing something you couldn’t see. “Don’t worry Doll, I promise I’ll come back to take what’s mine.”

It only takes a splint second for the man to lodge and inject something into your neck, drawing a pained cry out of you in the process. A new pain latches onto your body in the form of an burning in your neck that seems to be spreading. Your body writhes in agony, twitching in a way similar to being electrocuted. The man casts you one last wistful glance before standing and walking towards the two men standing in the doorway.

His hand glows a fiery blue before it strikes who you thought was Katsuki. You watch in horror as the man dissolves into nothing but a puddle of goo.

“What did ya do that for?” Izuku asks the scarred man who’s back is facing both of you.

“The double is dead weight, better to get rid of it now before someone else sees it.”

“But Jin did so much research for this one!” Izuku cries, starring down to where the lookalike Katsuki once stood.

“Doesn’t matter. It served its purpose, now its time to go.” Scar man glances over his shoulder once more scanning you for a moment. “Knock her out. Can’t have her calling anyone before we get far enough.” He makes his exit with that.

Fear surges in you as you watch twisted Izuku creep towards you, his smile replaced with fangs and his eyes tinged with gold. He grabs a large piece of rubble from the broken door and stalks towards you. You can only watch in terror as he closes in on you.

“Nighty night, Y/N-Chan! See you later.” Twisted Izuku smiles gleefully before smacking the large piece of rubble against your head. Your world goes dark.

...”y/n”....

....”y/N”....

....”Y/N”....

“Y/N!”

Your eyes shoot open, frantically searching your surroundings. When your eyes meet with green ones you jump into action, using your good leg to kick Izuku away and scrambling onto your hands and knees to crawl away.

“Hey! Hey! Calm down.” Katuski’s voice rasps, you can feel his arms grabbing you around your middle and lifting you off of the ground. You fight against him, swinging your arms back and back-kicking your good leg into his shins. “Fucking quit! It’s us, it’s Katsuki and Deku!” His loud voice freezes you, causing you to halt your struggles.

Izuku appears before you, trying to meet your eyes but you refused to look at him. “Y/N it’s us, you know us. We need you to calm down and tell us what happened.”

You hesitantly look up, meeting his eyes. They aren’t like they were before. They’re soft and gentle. They’re normal.

“Is-is it really you?” You whisper, eyes watering with tears threatening to spill over.

“Yes, it’s really me.” His tender tone causes you to crumble. You dive out of Katuski’s hands and into Izuku’s chest sobbing on his dirty hero suit. The two of you are sat amongst the chunks of broken door.

“It was you and Katsuki, but it wasn’t you and Katsuki! You can and broke down the door and then he came and jabbed me with the thing-“ You cut off by Katuski grabbing your shoulders to turn you towards him.

“Who came? Who was here?” His voice is hard but not threatening, genuine fear and concern laced his features.

“A man with dark scars and staples all over his face.”

You can see the visible dread spreading across Katuski’s face. He quickly masks it with rage.

“Fuck!” He cries, standing up and kicking rubble across the room. You flinch at his outburst, Izuku soothes you with a gentle touch, turning your attention back to him.

“We don’t have to talk about all of this right now. What’s important is that you’re still here and you’re safe.” You nod weakly at his words, though at this moment you don’t feel safe in the slightest. “Are you hurt anywhere besides your ankle?”

“How did you know-“

“When you kicked me you didn’t use your dominant leg and when Kacchan was holding you, you didn’t use both legs to fight back.” He answers your question before you can fully ask it. You realize that Izuku is always observing. “Please answer my question.”

“M-my head hurts, but that’s probably because they used blunt force to knock me out. And my neck hurts too. He...injected me with something.” You tentatively touch the sore area of your neck. Izuku follows the path of your hand with his eyes, gently moving your hand out of the way to look at the injection site. He internally cringes at the sight of the spider veins and bruising on your neck, but doesn’t give you any indication of its severity.

“Okay, we should get you to the hospital to get you looked at asap.” He gently lifts you from the floor, acting as a human crutch to keep any weight off of your bad leg. “Kacchan, pull the car to the front so we can meet you.”

Izuku’s voice must have snapped Katsuki out of his unmoving state. Anger is still clearly laced within his features, but he moves wordlessly out the door and down the hall towards the elevator. You and Izuku follow slowly.

Even with only one ankle badly injured, the other leg is still bruised and sore causing each of your steps to have a small limp. Izuku takes quick notice of this, scooping you into his arms and carrying your bridal style. He hadn’t even realized what he’d done until he looked down and noticed your flushed face.

“Ah! Sorry, it’s a habit. I noticed your limp.” He smiled at you bashfully, stepping into the elevators and removing one of his arms to press a button. His hold on you didn’t falter for a second, a small display of his unimaginable strength.

“It’s okay.” You mutter, looking away from the blushing man. “Thank you.”

\(•~•)/

Katuski and Izuku watch from behind a glass barrier as a small team of doctors examine you. You weren’t on the level with other patients because the staff wasn’t certain of what you were injected with and kept everyone’s best interest in mind.

After arriving at the hospital Katsuki and Izuku were ordered to remain out of the room for patient confidentiality, but they refused to go far and demanded for you to stay within their sight at all times. They weren’t coping with your attack well. Actually, they’re freaking out behind closed door.

“I can’t believe we let this happen.” Izuku bites his lip to silence the whimper that almost leaked out, feeling like a weak quirkless boy again.

“We?” Katsuki scoffs, sending a menacing glare towards the man standing next to him. “You were the one that left her alone. This happened on your watch!” As the blonde growled, Izuku could feel the guilt twist his stomach into knots. He buries it though, because he knows there was no way of knowing this would happen.

“Kacchan, I understand why you blame me. I’m upset with myself too.” Izuku hangs his head in shame. “But, the reality of the situation is that this could’ve happened on one of your days too. I was only gone for 25 minutes before the attack took place. The League was most likely waiting for me to leave to strike, knowing Y/N would be home alone. She needs someone with her 24/7 with no gaps in between and that’s something the two of us can’t provide her.”

“What are you saying, Fuckface? You giving up on her just like that? Because that’s something I’m not gonna do.” With a deadly rage Katuski grabs Izuku by the collar of his shirt. Izuku pushes Katuski away, starring the other right in his blood red eyes.

“No, Kacchan. I’m saying we need more help. We’re gonna have to recruit more people if we’re going to have a functioning 24 hour watch on her.” A look of understanding washes across the blondes face. “And we’re gonna need a bigger place to live to fit us all.”

[ashes-in-a-jar]

The Purrfect Alternative

Premise: Why would there be a cat in the archives? An archive cat fixit.

2.7K words

Rated G

(Tw: A bit of violence but it's against Jurgen Leitner)

This is a fic dedicated to the @jonsimsandcats event! Hope you enjoy it :)

"Sorry, you haven't seen a cat, have you?"

Jon gaped at the larger man who suddenly barged into the office. 

"I-I'm sorry, a what?"

"Uh, a cat, tabby I think." The man hurriedly explained.

"No. No I haven't. Is it.. Supposed to be here?" Jon knew book shops sometimes kept cats. Perhaps archives did as well. Maybe Gertrude had a soft spot in her after all.

"N-no actually. I, uh, I was feeding it on the way in but when I got up with my things, well, my hands were full you see, so when I managed to open the door it sort of slipped in with me? I'm so sorry, I have to find it before-"

"Okay okay calm down, stop." Jon held up his hand and let out a sigh. First day of the promotion and he's already stressed. But it's fine. He's fine. He can handle a cat. He's good with cats.

"Where do you work? Upstairs? Are you sure it came down here?"

"Yes, I saw it. And I just started working down here today? I'm Martin. Blackwood." He offered a hand. Jon automatically took it. Big and soft. He let go a bit too quickly and coughed. 

"Work here? Are you certain?"

"Yes, I'm supposed to let Jonathan Sims know about becoming an archival assistant. He's the head archivist Elias told me to talk to."

"Well that's one thing to cross off your list." Jon smirked. "I'm Jonathan Sims. Jon, if you please. And Elias did not mention you. Tim and Sasha were supposed to be the only new recruits." Jon frowned to himself. He'll have to have a word with Elias about this. It's fine now that it happened but keeping Jon updated could really help in preventing these kinds of awkward introductions with people he's supposed to work closely with.

"O-oh! Well, here I am now too." Martin chuckled nervously, fidgeting with the hem of his jumper.

Jon hummed "So you are I suppose. Well, let's not waste time on trivial matters, there is a cat that needs to be found." Jon got up from his chair.

"O-oh god, you're right. I'm so sorry for this." The other man apologized, remembering why he was there in the first place. It was clear that he now realized that the fact that the person he's asking to help him clear up his mess is his new boss could be very problematic for him. Jon easily sympathized with that kind of familiar pressure.

"It's alright, let's just, get this sorted." Jon was not willing to admit that a part of him was also just looking forward to seeing the cat. It would help distract him from his own stress, as it were.

Ten minutes later the two of them sitting on the floor in the stacks with a chubby tabby cat sprawled on Jon's lap. Jon was petting it affectionately while amicably getting acquainted with his new assistant. The man turned out to be a library veteran with useful cataloging skills that could help with the mess that was left down here. Having calmed down considerably, Martin had stopped fidgeting and was cooing at the cat who was head butting his large palm. Their presence soothed Jon in a way that surprised him. In the tranquil, quiet atmosphere of the stacks, sounds of cat purrs and Martin's low murmurs, he felt almost optimistic that despite his lack of experience and the large task ahead of them, he would be alright. 

-------

Paper meowed loudly behind him as Martin hurried down the tunnel with Jon and Tim at his tail. Martin glanced back as he reached an intersection and noticed they were too far behind, Jon limping on his injured foot. He hesitated, stopping and waiting for them to catch up. Paper came up and rubbed his leg before trotting down the tunnel on the right, tail held high and confident. Martin inhaled deeply to catch his breath, starting to walk again, this time more slowly. They managed to leave most of the fast worms behind and the ones down here were few and sparse enough to easily stomp down individually. Paper was making a game out of it.  He kept leaping onto some that crawled ahead of them, squishing them loudly with his paw. 

Jon and Tim caught up and the three followed Paper down the dark passage. 

"Yeah, get the damn crawlers." Slurred Tim. The CO2 he inhaled was not helping his coherency. 

"You know," gasped Jon, "I actually think they're larvae, given Jane's statement and-" 

"Jon, I'm going to have to ask you to stop now." Martin said, as calmly as he could, his voice a tad too high and loud. 

"... Sorry." Jon said sheepishly. 

They followed Paper down the forking paths, hoping the cat knew where in the seven circles of hell they were. 

Eventually they stopped seeing any worms as the path sloped up, ending in a sudden door. There was daylight filtering in from beneath it. Paper was eagerly pawing at it. 

"Uh, I think we found a secret way out of the institute." Martin could hardly believe their luck. 

"Excellent, now I can ditch work and no one will know I even left." Tim mumbled. 

"Tim, if you wanted to succeed in that endeavor, you should have not said that next to your boss." Jon commented dryly. 

The worm threat no longer being imminent, Martin allowed himself a nervous chuckle. 

They pushed at the door and with a bit of group effort, eventually managed to pry it open into fresh air. They came out into a narrow alleyway which turned out to be not far from the institute. As they walked (limped) down the street to find access to a working phone they heard someone cry out. 

"Jon? Tim? Martin!" They spotted Sasha hurrying towards them, carrying heavy bags of cat food. 

"Sasha! You're okay!" Martin exclaimed. "We were worried you'd get back and be caught in it like Tim had."

"Where have you been?" Jon inquired, straining to stand upright on his own. Martin came closer, gently supporting him by the hip on the opposite side of Tim. 

"We ran out of food for Paper, I figured I'd pop by the store for a moment to get some." Sasha said. "I came back when the building was being evacuated."

"Oh good, at least the alarm worked." Tim said tiredly. 

"What in god's name happened to you three?" She inquired worriedly. 

"Prentiss, we'll fill you in later. We need to make sure the ECDC is informed regarding the CO2 in the fire suppression system that needs to be activated."

"And get you to a hospital." Martin chastised, squeezing Jon's side. 

"Yes yes." Jon waved dismissively but all the while leaning further into Martin's side. He really wasn't discreet, Martin thought smugly. 

Sasha was about to say something else when a loud meow interrupted her. Paper was nosing into the bag, fully aware of its contents and who they were meant for. 

Jon dislodged from Martin and Tim and hobbled towards the cat. 

The cat turned and moved back into Jon's welcoming arms, as the archivist picked him up and stroked him fondly. 

"We are lucky on all accounts that Paper is such a smart cat." He murmured into the soft fur, injury forgotten for the moment. 

Tim chuckled, "cats always ruin evil people's plans, it's a well known fact. Anyway, Sasha, please call an ambulance for us?" He said, and promptly sat on the floor. 

Martin sighed with relief. For now, they are all safe and together. And that's all that matters. 

-------

It was all almost too much to take in. Luckily Paper was held tight in his arms as he listened to Jurgen Leitner ramble on about powers and fears and monsters and Jonah Magnus. He had been chased by a distorted form of his boss, who was apparently replaced by a monster Jon and the crew tried and failed to destroy, thus separating in the ensuing pursuit. In light of these events Jon now needed something soft to ground him in the face of so much new information. 

The discovery of Elias' death was a shock, especially given the fact that apparently it happened when he was trapped in artifact storage during the Prentiss siege a half a year back. 

He (that is, his doppelganger) told them back then that he was trying to reach the suppression system switch when he tripped down the stairs over one of Paper's many scattered toys, alerting Jane in the process and was driven back into the storage area. His account seemed to check out given he was rescued from there by the ECDC after Jane was dealt with. And given the few toys strewn about the stairs leading to artifact storage. Why Paper kept scattering his toys all over the building was beyond Jon but that wasn't the main issue at hand. After trapping the creature in the walls of the tunnels, Jurgen Leitner proceeded to reveal himself. Once Jon dragged him back to his office, and picked the protesting Paper up to calm himself down, he unveiled the truth of Elias', or Jonah's, whole operation. 

Turns out Jonah Magnus decided life was too short to enjoy once and did exactly what eventually happened to him. Talk about karma. Leitner explained that Gertrude's plan was to stop Jonah from... Something he was planning. Perhaps a ritual to end the world in a way the others would fail to do. That bit of information was on a tape of Gertrude which Leitner played for Jon. By the time they reached the part where Leitner said, “they needed to kill Jonah's main body then burn down the archives.” Martin, Tim and Sasha had arrived back at the office as well. 

"Jon? Jon! Are you okay?" Martin rushed forward, hugging Jon tightly, ignoring Paper's loud yowling at being squished in between them. Jon sighed, "Martin, thank god. I-I'm fine." He hugged him back, relieved his boyfriend was safe, as well as his other assistants of course. "It chased after me but he stopped it."

Tim raised his axe, "Jon are you sure he's not... Another one?"

"Yes I'm sure. That" Jon took a deep breath, "is Jurgen Leitner."

After the team's loud exclamations of disbelief he and Leitner updated them on everything they had discussed. As he was being hugged by Martin and holding the fluffy cat he slowly began calming down.

After Leitner was done a long moment of silence ensued.

"So," Sasha said slowly, "Gertrude's dead?"

"Yes, she was shot and then hidden by Jonah in the tunnels. Unfortunately I couldn't get out to allow for a proper burial, so I had to leave her there." He seemed sad admitting it. Jon did not feel sympathy for him. This man deserved none for his past and cowardice.

"And now, we need to, what, somehow find the center of the maze of tunnels to kill Jonah completely and burn the archives?" Sasha asked skeptically. 

"Yes, the whole institute in fact. I have a gas main in the tunnels ready to be ignited once we find the center." Leitner said.

"How do we do that?" Martin frowned.

"Maybe Michael knows?" Tim quipped. "He just helped us out of that situation with his own… corridor labyrinth. Maybe he'll be able to help."

"Okay, okay let's first take a breather and calm down. We'll figure out how to solve this." Jon said, raising his hand to slow them down.

"Yeah, I'll make us some tea." Martin added, "At least now that... Thing won't bother us for a long while."

"Let it burn along with this hell of an institute." Tim said harshly. Knowing how his brother was killed almost the same way, Jon felt strong sympathy for Tim rush over him.

Which was replaced with a different emotion the moment he turned to the man who saved him.

"Thank you for your help, now Martin, I need you to hold Paper for a moment."

Martin, looking baffled, took Paper out of Jon's arms. "Jon wh-"

Jon swiftly approached the older man and proceeded to sock him in the nose with the full force of his fist. The crew gasped in unison. 

"That's for everyone you hurt with your idiocy, you stupid old coward." Jon seethed and punched him again. He heard Martin chuckle and Tim whoop as the man whimpered and attempted to protect his face.

Jon was glad they were spared the horrible plans of a 200 year old evil man and that they had some semblance of a strategy moving forward. He was, however, equally elated for this opportunity to do what he fantasized about since learning of Leitner's existence.

And, he supposes, all of this can be indirectly attributed to Paper, the archive cat.

-------

Jon woke up to the warm snuggle of his lovely fiance and a mouthful of cat fur. 

"Pffff, Paper geerroff," he mumbled, uselessly trying to push the stubborn cat away. The chirping of birds mingled with the sound of highland cows grazing in the field near their cabin. 

After the success of their plan to end Jonah, after the fire had already burned down the horrors of that evil place, it took a while longer for their troubles to be resolved. They had to endure endless questioning and investigations of the police. Jon, who was weakened by the ordeal to the point of needing hospitalization, took a long time to recover and regain his strength. Leitner claimed it was lucky he was cut off from the Eye this early, or the consequences would have been much more serious. The others seemed to have been less affected, but once the archives were completely reduced to ashes they recovered, their jobs burned down along with everything else. 

Sasha found a new job as a researcher in a prestigious institute, nothing supernatural involved. Tim moved on to journalism, utilizing his curiosity and charm to their full potential. Jon and Martin opened a tea & book shop, if only to make Paper a real bookshop cat. They have been slowly setting it up and settling down until... Well, Jon proposed and they took a break. Traveled to Scotland with Paper on an early honeymoon to see the cows and enjoy the quiet. 

And quiet it was. Until Paper shamelessly began purring as loud as a train right in Jon's ear. Jon huffed in fond annoyance and got up, leaning down to give Martin a kiss on the head and then shooing the crime of a cat off to the kitchen. 

"You can't give me a moment of reprieve, can you?" He stretched and followed the cat out the bedroom. 

He filled Paper's bowl and sat on the floor leaning his back on the cabinet, closing his eyes as Paper chewed his food noisily. 

He must have fallen asleep because the next thing he knew, he was awakened by a soft tap on his head. He looked up blearily and smiled. The cat had long since finished eating and found a home in Jon's lap. 

"Morning love." Martin murmured softly, matching his tone to the serene atmosphere. After hesitating a moment, he bent down and sat next to Jon. Jon looked at him adoringly as he absent-mindedly stroked Paper, humming along to his purrs. Martin joined him, petting Paper, their hands occasionally (and very purposefully) brushing against each other. 

After a few minutes of calm silence, Martin spoke up. 

"You know, this reminds me of that first day we met. In the stacks."

Jon smiled at the memory. "Ahh yes, all three of us had a very fateful meeting there, didn't we? God, I was so stressed back then." 

"You handled it pretty well I have to say. Handled my nervousness pretty well too." Martin chuckled. 

"I was lucky you were there. You really helped me calm down." Jon admitted. "Well, you and Paper." Jon added fondly. 

"Paper was a really good archive cat wasn't he?" Martin said, leaning into Jon, pressing a warm, still sleepy kiss on his cheek. Jon closed his eyes, grateful for the events that led up to this moment of pure happiness, with his fiance and his cat. 

"Yes, the best cat in the world."

[damn-stark]

Survivor

Chapter 5 of Cherry

A/N: I really hope you guys like this and I promise there will be more Reiner and rc interactions ;)

Warning- Angst, SLOWBURN, Violence, LONG CHAPTER! Talks of death and blood.

Pairing- Jean Kirstein x reader, Reiner Braun x reader

Episodes- 1x17

(Let me know if you want to be tagged)

————

“Squad I’d like to present you to Cherry,” Levi introduces you to his own squad who quietly watch you with eyes filled with curiosity.

“It’s y/n,” you correct him through gritted teeth, as a happy smile spreads on your lips while you finally had the honor to meet the squad he had spoken about in his letters.

“It’s the same thing,” he remarks nonchalantly.

“Not really, because one is my actual name and the other—”

“Y/N? You’re alive!” You hear a voice exclaim before your eyes wander to the entrance of the room where you notice Eren walking in with his eyes wide and filled with a surprise and a bit of joy.

“Eren!” You exclaim happily, “you’re okay, right?”

Said boy walks over to you and nods to answer your concern filled question. “Yeah, I’m alright, are you? Are the rest of our friends?”

You hesitate at the sound of his question, feeling your smile falter at the memory of one friend who wasn’t so lucky to have made it. Eren doesn’t catch your fault though, his green eyes remain filled with concern whilst he waits for your answer that never came as Levi interrupted you. “Cherry, listen.”

You tear your eyes away from Eren and focus on Levi and nod, “right,” before you look back to the four members of his special operations squad. “I’m y/n.”

Levi eyes roll to you and then slide to his squad members, not giving them any kind of audible signal before they all begin to introduce themselves, starting with a tall blonde man that had his hair picked up and sported a goatee on his chin. “I’m Eld Gin.”

“I’m Gunther Schultz,” A dark haired man said right after, pulling your attention to him and letting you recognize that some of these members looked familiar, you probably had seen them before but you weren’t sure now. There were too many soldiers to keep track of, you only talked to the ones you saw the most.

“Hi, I’m Petra Rall,” the only woman in his squad spoke not so long after, offering you a small smile that you returned before your eyes landed on one last man with his light brown hair styled in a nice undercut haircut. One you couldn’t help but notice off the bat appeared a bit odd to you...appearance wise anyways—“Oruo Bozad.” He said nonchalantly with his arms crossed over his chest.

Slowly you tear your gaze away from him and give all the members one last look before you look at Levi beside you. “And of course,” he continued, “you know Eren.”

You nod and a grin slowly spreads on your lips as you solely look at Levi and grab his arm to ask one last thing excitedly. “So does this mean I can join, Levi squad?!”

“Yeah, can she?” Eren asks after you in a more hopeful tone. Perhaps because he was hopeful he’d have someone his age in the squad. But that wouldn't be the case.

Levi’s blue eyes shift to you and his eyes narrow before he shakes his head. “No. But you can earn your spot like they did and then we can talk.”

“Tsk.” You pull your hands away from his arm and sigh in disappointment.

“But,” he added as he unfolded his arms and shoved his hand in his pocket to pull out a folded parchment paper. “Here. It’s for you.” He says in a mischievous tone that you only caught as you took the paper and he began to walk out of the room. “I’ll give you a few minutes to talk to them before you have to rejoin the recruits.”

Before you could try to input something concerning the paper, or the fact that your friends were taking a tour of the grounds that you knew by heart, Levi leaves the room with all eyes on the paper he had given you. “Open it,” Eren points to the paper in your hand. You look down at it and think for a moment, before you pout at the realization of what he had given you so publicly.

“Why don’t you?” You sigh, as you hand him the paper and sit back in a chair to rest your chin on your hand as you prop your elbow on the table beside you.

Erens green eyes lifted from the paper in his hand to look at you with his eyebrows pinched together and his fingers under the fold. “Are you sure?”

“Knock yourself out,” you mutter bitterly, noticing the rest of the squad all had knowing smirks on their faces as Erens curiosity got the best of him. Like you, they knew that the paper didn’t contain anything worthwhile, Eren on the other hand still was getting to know who Levi truly was and expected to read something juicy. But as he unfolded on the paper, and his eyes scanned the inside, his eyes lost their spark, and his smile fell. He slowly lowered his hand and turned to look at you with his face twisted.

“It’s a chores list?”

“Yeah,” you groan as you drop your head to the table's surface. “I knew it. Ughh…”

“It says,” Eren interjects, “you can help the Levi Squad with their chores.”

“Stab my leg won’t you?” You grumble to the wooden table, hearing a few of the other members snicker, whilst Eren still had the need to remark to you.

“Why didn't you ever tell me?”

“What was she going to tell you, Eren?” You hear one of the guy members ask him in a playful tone, “that our captain was a clean freak? It would have ruined the illusion and his reputation.”

You pick up your head only far enough so you could peek one eye out, noticing that it had been Eld who had just commented that. “Plus, it’s always funny seeing the newcomers realize that Levi isn’t just Humanity’s greatest soldier.” You snicker, making everyone laugh and nod in agreement. “And you thought I was a clean freak before,” you smirk, “you hadn’t met him yet...you’re still getting to know him.” You fully lift your head to see him with both eyes, barely catching as Eren throws your chores list back to you with a look of disappointment expressed all over his face. “I hope he’s been treating you well.”

“Well he still has me sleeping down in the basement,”

Eren comments bitterly, “but I mean, I understand why he would. Besides that he isn’t bad.”

“Good,” you say before your attention gets suddenly interrupted by Oruo.

“Say kid, where is it the Captain got you from? Are you really his kid?”

“Uh,” you voice, catching his comrade Petra shaking her head at his comment while the others just sigh before you continue unsurely and confused. “He got me from his doorstep?” You blink a few times and notice he seemed to be deep in thought. “Levi is not my actual father...he—” you abruptly cut yourself off as your eyes refocus on the way his hair was styled in an undercut, the way he kept his face so nonchalant and had a similar cravat to Levi’s. You also couldn’t help but notice the way he stood and tried to keep his posture, his voice also began to echo in your mind and you couldn’t help but pick out the similarity there too. It was all something that made you slowly grin.

“...I see now,” you comment to him smugly, whilst your eyes scanned his outfit and lifted back on his face. “Your cravat is a shade off. And,” you pause to stand up and shift your posture and change your voice to mock Levi’s, “you should stand like this and lower your voice a bit more.”

Oruos eyes widened but he’s quick to catch himself, quick to turn down what you suggested to him as his comrades burst into laughter and Eren seemed a bit lost. “I don’t know what you’re talking about brat.”

You smirk and change back to your own posture and voice. “It’s okay, I find it funny.”

“Oruo,” Petra interjected, “don’t talk to the Captain's kid like that.”

“It’s okay,” you assure them, “I don’t mind, but really,” you then change your voice and your expression to once again mock Levi’s. “It’s like this.” You smile brightly and switch back to your own voice. “It was an honor meeting you all.” You begin to walk to the door and continue. “I guess I’ll see you all later, for now I have to go before he comes back and gets me in trouble.” Your eyes shift to Eren and you wave at him. “See ya later, Eren.”

As far as first days go, this first day as an official Scout was like the rest. There were introductions, touring, assignments, schedules on the classes every new recruit needed to attend to memorize Erwins formation for the expedition that everyone was going to join. Something that surprised you because from what you did pick up before you left, usually the new recruits wouldn’t attend the expedition, not until they had proper time to memorize the map. But this time it was different. But then again, perhaps it was just a new normal now.

And it’s not like you could just skip these classes, you were a recruit now. It was an obligation. Just like your chores were too. Nonetheless you preferred chores over the classes that you had to admit were dreadfully boring. No matter how much you claimed to like learning, these weren’t really the classes you wanted. Not only that, but learning that as recruits you were going to go on your first expedition in a month was really hard, for some more than the others. It was a good thing that reuniting with Eren lifted some of your friends' spirits after hearing such heavy news. Yours on the other hand lasted until the night.

As night rolled around, as you lay in your bunk and closed your eyes, sleep came but soon was interrupted by the same nightmare you’ve had the past month; the one where you’re underground again, basked in darkness and cornered by the dead bodies of Furlan and Isabel. Only this time, Marcos' body was there too. The darkness was invasive but you knew he was there now too; haunting your dreams and not letting you get any sleep out of fear of both the dark and their bloodied bodies.

You tried rolling to your other side, tried to find assurance in the orange-red flame from the candlelight that casted your body's shadow on the wall beside you, but it didn’t work. So instead of trying to sleep again, you quietly roll off of bed and grab a book from under your bed, quietly grab your candlelight and carefully tiptoe out of the girls bunk room to walk towards Levi’s room. You knew he hardly slept, so you knew going to him in the middle of the night was always welcomed. Not like he cared if you were there when he was sleeping too.

When you got to the outside of his door, you saw the soft candlelight peeking out from under the door and expected him to be awake. But as you knocked once and slowly opened the door after no answer, you were welcomed with the sight of him slouched over his desk fast asleep. You softly huffed out at the sight and quietly closed the door after you, walking in and placing your book on the bed to instead grab his pillow and blanket. “How many times,” you whisper to yourself as you make your way to where he is. “Have I told him to sleep on his bed?”

There was no point in trying to move him to his bed, you knew if you tried he’d wake up the moment you lifted him from the chair. So instead you did the thing you always did; you threw the blanket over his body, very gently picked up his head to move his things to the side and instead slide the pillow under his head, so he wouldn’t have to lay on the hard surface. “There you go,” you continue to whisper as you successfully step back without waking him up. “Goodnight, Levi.” You smile softly, turning back around to grab your book and lay on his bed to read instead. Finding comfort in hearing his soft snores fill the candlelit room; smiling to yourself as you read the book you were rereading and unknowingly passing out after some time. Much to Levi’s surprise as he woke up not so much longer after.

He groggily lifted his head off the pillow he was surprised to be laying on, and kept his eyes on you for a few minutes to try and realize that this wasn’t a dream. You were in fact back. When that realization hit him he didn’t hesitate to push himself off his chair, grabbing the blanket that slid off his body and the pillow on his desk. He quietly stepped to the side of the bed and threw the blanket over your curled up body, lifting your head to pull away the book that you were accidentally drooling on and placing the same pillow you left him, under your own head.

Before he sat back on his chair, he slowly leaned in to gently stroke your cheek with his knuckle as he still couldn’t believe the person he was seeing. He couldn’t help but sigh deeply as his mind tried to process the fact that you had aged up so much in the past three years he hadn’t seen you. He couldn’t help but notice that your face had changed, that your body had matured and was still doing so, that your eyes didn’t carry the same innocent glow they once did. He had wanted to keep you protected from all the ugliness the world had, but it was impossible, he knew that the moment he found you on his doorstep. Yet throughout the years he couldn’t help but be delusional to that certain fact.

He couldn’t be that way anymore, you both knew that. No matter how much he wanted to keep you secured under the security of his cape, and in the warmth of his arms. He had to let you spread your own wings now, experience for yourself all the dangers he dreaded you facing, everything life had to offer you. All he could do now was watch you grow, advise and protect you when he could without completely smothering you. He couldn’t help but think if this was the same good type of heartache his own mother suffered as she raised him...he just never expected to get so attached.

——

“Cherry seed.”

Your eyes fly to Jean after that nickname spills out of his mouth, and as you're sitting across from him you shoot him a feigned smile and snap back, “horse face.”

His dark eyebrows furrow and he scoffs, “don’t call me that.”

“Then don’t call me what you just did, two can play at that game and I'd hate to see you lose.” You remark while a smirk pulls on the corner of your lips.

Jean just shoots you a pointed glare before he takes a spoonful of his breakfast and changes the subject. “Where have you been? I didn’t see you all of yesterday, I almost forgot you existed.”

“I was busy,” you shrug as you prop your elbows on the table. “But you’ll see more of me from now on. I get no special treatment so I’ll be stuck as if I were actually new here.”

“Oh how poor of you.” Jean feigns pity before taking another spoonful of breakfast. “To be stuck with us fresh meat and not get an immediate promotion.”

“It truly does suck,” you answer sarcastically whilst you rest your chin on your hand and feign a pout. “To think I could’ve been your captain.”

“To think I lost such great honor.” He sighs deeply and then can’t help but mirror your faint smile before he focuses back on his breakfast, sliding his eyes to your empty space on the table. “You should eat,” he mutters with food in his mouth, “you’ve been skipping breakfast too much already.”

You sigh and roll out “I will,” slowly before you rest your head on your other hand.

“And don’t be giving it to Sasha,” he continues to scold you “and pretend you ate it either.”

“I will,” you repeat a bit more sharply; knowing that he wouldn't be the only one nagging you about missed meals anymore. You knew you had other sets of eyes watching you now too—“so,” you continue to change the subject. “How was your first night as a Scout, Hmm?”

“Right now it feels just like when I was a Cadet.” He shares, “it doesn’t feel any different and I don’t suspect it will until our first expedition.”

“I guess you’re right.”

Jeans eyes leave your slouched figure in front of him and catches the tall blonde walking your way. “Reiner is coming this way.” He tells you as he looks back at his plate.

You lift your head from your hand and straighten out your posture, trying to fight the temptation not to look at him over your shoulder and instead keeping your focus on Jean. “Quick, how do I look?”

“Like you’ve been lacking sleep for sixteen years.” He remarks, causing you to shoot him an icy glare before he continues to toruture you. “Now is your chance to tell him how you feel.”

You laugh nervously and shake your head. “Are you crazy? No.”

“You know he likes you,” Jean points out, “what’s the worst thing that can happen?”

“Uh, he can hear me.” You spat out. “And I embarrass myself.” You peek over your shoulder and feel your heart clench in your chest. “How about this,” you continue as you look back at Jean. “You tell Mikasa how you feel and I tell Reiner how I feel, yeah?”

Before Jean could answer, the man you had been talking about comes and sits beside you, sliding a plate of hot breakfast to you as he also puts down his own. “Thought you were running on an empty stomach.” He tells you, “you should eat. Wouldn’t want you passing out in the middle of training.”

You fully turn your head to the side and smile shyly, pulling your plate closer to you and sharing a quick lingering look with Reiner. “Thank you,” you mutter, tearing your gaze away as you caught Bertholdt sitting next to Reiner, noticing as you were looking back at your food that Jean was trying hard not to laugh at you. You ignore him however and hesitantly take a bite out of the breakfast Reiner brought you, swallowing before briefly glancing at Reiner and Bertholdt to address your concerned question to them. “How are you guys doing?”

“Well,” Reiner sighs, “the past couple days have really been something, but we’ll pull through. We always have.”

“Yeah,” Bertholdt agrees as his eyes leave Reiner and turn to you. “Reiner is right. You don’t have to worry about us, y/n. How are you?”

You shrug. “I’ll be alright.” You look at your food and take in another small spoonful, letting Jean's comment about Reiner echo in your mind, but nothing else beside that before your train of thought was interrupted as Connie, Sasha, Ymir, Krista, Mikasa, Armin and Eren sat at the same table. They all had their breakfasts and a more lighthearted look on their faces than the ones they carried yesterday. Sasha especially, as she seemed to be angsty to talk to you as she sat at your side and didn’t hesitate to address you.

“So y/n, is y/n your real name? Or is it Cherry?”

You lift your eyes from your plate and slowly slide them to Sasha, noticing that all of your friends' eyes were intently on you. “It’s y/n. Cherry is just something that Levi and some of the Scouts call me.”

“Why?” Krista probes.

“Well Levi does because,” your mind wanders to the story he had told you about the nickname, and you decide it’s too long to tell them at the moment. “Well it’s a long story, but Cherry is something he called me, and the scouts, well, when I came here, I introduced myself with my nickname, so it stuck.”

“Oh well you’re lucky,” Sasha continues with a goofy smile. “You’re nicknamed after a fruit!” Her brown eyes glow with excitement as she grabs your arm a little too tightly. “Can I call you Cherry from now on?”

“Uh, sure.” You shrug nonchalantly, looking at Krista as she also continued speaking.

“That’s such a sweet name, can I call you that too?”

“Go ahead.” You answer, knowing that you couldn’t be rude and say no.

“Hey,” Eren chimed in, “Hange said that the reason Levi calls you that is because you were...”

“It doesn’t matter,” you quickly cut off Eren, shooting him a warning glare before you avoid all the curious stares and begin eating again.

“Tell us what you heard, Eren.” Ymir commented smugly, shooting you a taunting look that you felt burning into your skull. “You can’t leave us hanging now.”

Again you tear your gaze away from your food and shoot Eren a cold warning look that he took as a sign to just be quiet and ignore Ymir instead. She kept pestering him, like Connie and Sasha did too, but he didn’t give in. The stare you shot him engraved into his head and scared him from saying the rest, whilst also reminding him too much of his captain's chilling look. That, or well the sight of Levi passing by you to place a cup of tea by your plate just made him avoid the subject completely. So instead he just let the conversation change before you all had to go to your class.

A class that was the same each day for a month straight; boring as you had to remember your maps and important positions for the expedition.

All until you only had the choice but try to recall it by pure memory as the day of the expedition finally rolled around.

“The 57th expedition outside the wall begins now!” Erwin's voice booms from the front of the formation, everyone not letting themselves fall behind, nor trying to focus on the Titans that already threatened your lives, instead letting the support squad do their work while you all rode ahead; luckily enough everyone making it out of the town alive and riding further out the wall.

Something that still felt so surreal to you. Even if where you were, was still considered being inside the walls. Nonetheless, it felt like a rush of both excitement and fear. Mainly fear. Because now you were on your own. Literally parting away from the formation on your own (not really), but as Erwin signalled for the long range scouting, your friends weren’t going to be by your side anymore, you were with your own squad, riding in the right flank with the search squad.

What damn luck. On my first expedition too.

The only reason you got put there is to be their messenger and shoot the needed flares. You weren’t to make contact with any Titans unless extremely necessary. Which was disappointing, yet relieving. And the more you thought of it, of what you were supposed to do, the memory of a lesson came to mind as you rode along your squad. “It will be mainly the search squads in the first column that will have contact with Titans. When they find a Titan, they will fire a red smoke flare. When a soldier sees a flare he relays the message in the same way. Using the flares to confirm the Titans location the commander will fire a green flare and indicate in which direction everyone will proceed. In this way everyone can avoid contact with Titans. However there will be instances due to the lay of the land or obstructions when a Titan will be found too late and is already inside the formation....”

“Y/N, shoot a right flare for that short ugly Titan approaching the right corner.” Your squad leader orders, causing you to look in the direction of the small Titan approaching, lifting your flare and shooting out a red flare whilst you cover your ear from the loud boom. Since it was small, the squad chose to leave it be and instead move away as the formation moved slightly.

“...Our past measures have worked only on the relatively easy-to-predict “ordinary” types. The variants, with their unpredictable behavior, are the only ones that demand engagement!”

“I hear you’ve already killed two Titans as a cadet?! That’s impressive!” Your squad leader exclaims her comment at you.

You nod stiffly and briefly glance at her before you refocus on the incoming land. “Yes, I have, but it wasn’t an easy task, nor was it alone!” Again you glance her way and notice this time her brown eyes were searching the area. Yet she still found a way to multitask.

“Two is still two.” She assures you, her eyes following yours as you watched a flock of birds rapidly fly from their tree and caw sharply as they flew past you. It wasn’t a sight to gawk over, or really think much of, but still your hands tightened around your horse's reins and your eyes narrowed ahead. You continued to ride in a careful silence, feeling the hairs on the back of your neck stand and chills run down your spine. Again you didn’t think much of that either.

But it was in that moment, the seconds after, where two Titans began to come after you, breaking apart from one another and aiming for both sides of your squad, their arms out ready to swing at you beneath them. However you all were smarter, you sped up and rode to the left side, pulling out your flare gun with your trembling hand and taking a red flare to shoot it into the sky—“good!” Your squad leader praised you, leading the way and pushing the horses to sprint away from the Titans faster.

Yet as you left those behind and moved with the formation, two more Titans came running, creating a dust cloud that covered the horde following after them.

“What the hell?” One of your squad members shouts as his eyes fixate on the horde all coming your way, picking up their pace as their eyes spotted their temptation, as if the sight of your approaching figures had set something off within them. “We can’t take them all! We’ll be caught up and only end up losing our own!”

Your eyes widen and your mind races with the thought that this is the most Titans you’ve seen clustered together. It almost looked like they were purposely baited together. It was off putting and made your heart race inside your chest...even more so as they began to break apart and target different spots of your squad, running faster as they did so. And regardless of their tactics you put a red flare in your gun and intended to shoot it as a couple of your comrades fought them to thin out their horde. But as your finger hovered over the trigger, you felt the ground tremble, and spotted more birds quickly fly away as if in a panic.

When you tried to figure out what felt wrong, suddenly another large horde came running your way, this time getting led by a taller Titan, a blonde one with features of a female, blue eyes and a glare that made goosebumps grow all over your body. Unlike the Titans it led, this one seemed to be on a mission, she ran like a human would and let the horde run past her as she stopped in her spot briefly. Her eyes appearing to watch over the chaos she delivered, and her expression painted as if she were thinking.

She let the horde infest and overwhelm your squad. While she left you all stunned and speechless, frozen as you had never seen an abnormal like her. Or they hadn’t. She reminded you of Eren's Titan. From what you could take note, she acted like him; in the manner they were both intelligent and in control—“This-this one is an abnormal,” your squad leader stammered as she tried to lead what was left of her squad from being caught by swinging hands. “Shoot out the black flare, y/n! We can’t let this one into the formation!”

You nod slowly, trying to guide your horse from the approaching threats, whilst you also struggled to pull out the black flare, feeling the canister almost slip from your fingers before you gripped onto it and then struggled to push it in the gun. From the corner of your eye seeing a red flare fly into the sky. Knowing that the signal was going to move the formation, even if you all had to lag behind to thin out the horde that was more trouble than any of you suspected. You still had to deal with the abnormal Female Titan that continued to prove your theory right.

Your squad leader began to go after her and the Female Titan reacted within seconds, snapping her eyes to your leader and surprising you even more as she reacted by bolting towards her. At the last second though, the Female Titan turned sharply on her heels and headed for the formation, only causing the reaction on your face to deepen as your eyes peeled back further, and your eyebrows pinched together. Regardless of your reaction albeit, this time you were aware, you broke from your stupor as your squad leader looked over her shoulder to shout out the same instruction as before.

This time you raised your hand and shot the black flare, hastily shoving the flare gun back in your pocket as you kept your attention on your squad leader approaching the Female Titan; hearing the cries in the chaos that was brewing from the scene you were leaving, hearing Titans jaws snapping, and bones cracking as you tried your best to follow the instructions given to you. It was a crude thing to do, evil; it made your stomach churn and your heart drop, but you had to keep riding along. They kept reminding that to you. They told you to run to inform the Commander of what rose in battle.

But as you begin to split away, your eyes slide to your squad leader shooting her grapples at the Female Titans body, and a sharp gasp leaves your lips the moment she flies in to swing at the Titans nape, and she swiftly swings her hand back to capture your leader in her grasp. She continues to peek over her shoulder, almost as if she was taunting those couple of soldiers after her before she gave an effortless squeeze that instantly killed your squad leader. Leaving behind only a gruesome mess that she dropped before she looked away and bolted away. Leaving you stunned and petrified on your horse.

At the back of your head you could feel yourself registering the fact that more comrades tried to chase after her, but you couldn’t act on any plan. Your mind came up blank as the brutal scene continued to play out ahead of you. All you could do was watch as the Female Titan evilly played with your comrades; swatting them away and stomping one into unrecognizable pieces and a thick pool of blood.

When you could snap from your speechless state was when a blood-curdling scream beside you rang in your ears, snapping your attention to the side to see a Titan bite down on a comrade and another swing at you, barely letting you swerve away.

“Shit,” you hiss sharply, accidentally stumbling back to where the chaos had brewed and being directly behind the Female Titan’s path. You tried to guide your horse back to your previous path, but as your Horse tries to ride back, from the thick of some trees a Titan jumped out ahead of you. Blossom jolted and skidded to a hard stop, crying out as she stood on her twos and fumbled back before she fell back down on all fours. You tried to calm her down as well yourself, “it’s okay, Blossom, it’s okay girl, I won’t let it grab you. I’m here.”

Albeit the moment you tried to run away, another Titan wasted no time to lunge at you from behind. It’s jaw missing your horse and you by an inch, and instead crashing into the Titan in front of you—Fuck yeah—a smirk tugs on your lips as you watch the smoke rise from their clashed bodies over your shoulder. But the moment was brief, because when you turn away and look ahead, the body of a dead comrade comes hurdling your way. You yanked at the reins to make your horse move away, but the body had been thrown too fast and crashed into your horse, making her cry out in pain as she fell forward and threw you off her back to harshly roll on the ground.

When you come to a hard stop, you feel your body crash onto something hot and wet, you pay no mind to it, just think it’s some Titan remains you saw a now dead Comrade kill. Instead your eyes flutter open, welcoming in the brightness, but instantly feeling them sting and noticing your vision was slightly blurry after the impact—concussion maybe? Nevertheless, regardless of your symptoms, you continue to try to push yourself to your hands and knees, feeling your palms slip on something thick and wet. You blink a few times to clear your vision, wasting no time on looking at the sky above and instead dropping your gaze to identify what was under your hands. Albeit instantly freezing as you recognize the thick crimson pool of blood and the gruesome body parts of a dead body under you.

It took a moment for your head to react as you kept your eyes glued to what was underneath, but once you blinked again, you quickly reeled back onto the clean grass. Feeling yourself pant and cry before your breakfast ran up your throat and escaped from your mouth. You gagged more violently, but your stomach just jerked as nothing came out but air, leaving you to finally wipe tears away and suck in air.

When you remembered to breathe out, whilst thoughts in your mind raced at a speed that you couldn’t keep up with. You could feel your body pushing itself to its feet and you could see your bloodied clothes as your eyes roamed down your body, but that was it. Every other feeling was absent, time only seemed to slow down around you. You knew you were looking for your horse, but she was nowhere to be seen. Instead you saw Titans in her place, coming at you from all sides, surrounding you and causing reality to slap you in the face and return everything back to its normal pace.

“Fuck,” you breathe out rapidly, “fuck. Fuck. Fuck!” You quickly move your hands to pull your blades out, eyeing all four Titans that were surrounding you, trying to see if there was a horse, or anyone who could help you at least create a gap to escape. But as you switched from side to side, all you saw was red painted on the ground. No living souls left to help. Of course you could try to create a gap of your own, there were enough bodies for you to hook your grapples onto, but it would all be useless without a horse to use to leave. You were completely and utterly rendered isolated, with only two blades to think of your salvation. To keep your hopes up.

But that hope was burned away the moment the Titans shadows casted over your body, and the sounds of their running mouths echoed in your ears and pulled you back to that disoriented state you fell under after you saw what you had crashed onto. You could see the Titans hands stretch out to try and grab you off the floor, you noticed their jaws open to show off their sets of teeth and slippery tongues in slow motion as time seemed to slow down around you; as the knowledge of your life coming to a brutal end invaded every single thought, numbing every single muscle in your body and drying your mouth and eyes so no tears rolled down your cheeks.

And perhaps the no tears part was half of your mind accepting death. It was on your first expedition, but who were you to fight fate? At least now you could reunite with Marco, Furlan and Isabel. That beautiful thought made you smile to yourself, made death something easier to accept. After all you had lived longer than you anticipated...Levi would miss you...hopefully. That was one thing that rattled your soul, but...hey, you would be with the family you had both lost, he could rejoice in that fact.

When he didn’t see me return and join what was left of the Scouts, would he wait for my hopeful return? Would he be angry when he figured out I was one of the fatalities? That I had broken my promise to stay alive? Your mind fell silent and you blinked away from the Titans to look at the blue sky and passing clouds. I’m sorry.

You draw in a deep breath and ignore the stench of death that filled the air and instead you focus on the slight smell of grass and sweet fresh air. Death wasn’t something you wanted, not like this...you always wanted it to be after a long fruitful life, outside between the trees and under the sky. But this, well this had to do, right? At least you weren’t in the dark, or underground. At least you were under the sky….Hmm, it is a beautiful day—you continue to close your eyes and let out a slow shaky breath. Expecting to picture Isabel's red hair and bright eyes, Furlans smug but yet sweet look, and or Marcos' goofy grin. But someone else completely comes to mind. Levi. A memory of him plays vividly in your head. A specific memory. Almost as if it was purposely chosen to show you.

“You have to fight, you can’t die,” you heard him whisper to your fragile and sick body, feeling as if his voice was hundreds of miles away, but still clear. “Not like this.You still have a lot to live for…” his eyes looked to the clear sky out the window and he sighed before returning his eyes back to you. “...and you still have a lot to discover,” he continued as he grabbed your hand from the bed. “I know that I may not be like Furlan or Isabel, but I promise I'll try, I won’t leave you. I’m still going to look after you, I’ll listen to your stories, I always do, I’ll read through all your findings, I’ll try to do as much as I can do with you. Just fight for me, y/n, please. I want you to live a long life, to experience everything life has to offer you with no regrets. Just survive. You can’t die. Don’t die. Fight and survive. Fight and survive....”

As Levi’s words echoed all over your head and the memory faded, something else sparked within you, electrifying your mind like if a bolt of lightning had suddenly struck your brain. It almost felt like an adrenaline rush had flooded your entire body, but it felt much, much stronger. You could feel much stronger and much more aware. Your eyes suddenly flew open and you drew in a sharp breath that filled your lungs with a relief that you felt after you resurfaced from the water. Every color that surrounded you was much more vivid, everything your eyes saw was much sharper; to the shortest distance and to the farthest. Something unfolded within you.

Suddenly every thought of death turned to the will to fight. Suddenly blood rushed through your numbed limbs, causing you to dig your heels into the dirt and fortify your grip around your handles. Time was slow, but it was different, you could feel your eyes snap to every location, spot every single movement; from the flapping leaves, to the flowing grass blades, the floating clouds and approaching Titan hands. Your mind instantly came up with an instant plan to escape your current dilemma. And before you knew it, you were shooting your grapple hooks and moving like lightning, faster than you ever have in your years of using ODM gear

One moment you were on the ground, ready to die, the next you were swinging under a Titans arm, swirling around the moment you unhooked your grapples to then shoot them again, and spin directly at the Titans nape. You jumped off their falling body to continue the same process with the others, feeling an instinct guide you, a sense knowing exactly what to do pump through your blood. It was like a rush. Something new and much more than an adrenaline rush. You felt yourself fly around like the wind.

It felt odd moving so fast, you could hardly understand it, hardly control your own speed, but you were grateful for it as it helped you take down the Titans that had once threatened your life. Now, you just watched their bodies slowly evaporate away and leave behind only thick white smoke before you let yourself fall back to the ground in the middle of where their bodies lay to slowly take in what you had done.

It was unbelievable, but there was no one else around for you to make excuses that it wasn’t you—yet you still couldn’t believe it. You looked down at your hands as if that was going to give you reassurance to what had happened, you looked at the sky and found reassurance in the fact that you were alive. You rejoiced in that fact for a brief moment before you were reminded why your life was put at such high risk, why your whole squad was now dead.

She.

It.

The Female Titan was at fault. It was all her fault. She played with your comrades as if they were toys, she brought hordes of Titans that killed your comrades, she was the reason you almost died. Now, you needed to kill her.

You stepped away from the Titans thick smoke their decaying bodies produced and searched for your horse, you called for her, but nothing, luckily another horse heard your call. That was better than nothing. “Good horse,” you praise it as you climb onto it and gently pat their side, giving the chaotic and bloodied scene one last look before you tell them to go.

Needless to say you were riding fast and in rage, focusing on that single mission, and luckily not running into more Titans on your way after the Female Titan. You may not know exactly where she was headed, but you had a rough idea; she seemed to be dead set on chasing the formation, she appeared to be after something, or someone, she—suddenly you lose your previous train of thought and a new thought sparks in your mind. One that causes you to slap your hand on your mouth and run your hand down your face.

Of course. Of fucking course. It can’t be just a coincidence that suddenly another intelligent Titan like Erens appeared out of thin air, after not showing any sign of herself before. And of course she appeared after Eren was announced to be a Titan shifter. She’s most likely after him!

You smile proudly to yourself and release a held in breath—sometimes I truly do surprise myself. Wow.

With a bit more resolve, you focus back on your path ahead, dropping your smile instantaneously and fueling with pulsing rage as you caught sight of the Female Titan.

She was on her knee, and her hand was covering her nape, while her eyes appeared to be focused on something. It was hard to notice what with your rage and your own goal in mind, but the moment you pushed yourself on top of your horse and shot your grapples at the tree beside her to hop off your horse, and press on the gas to fly directly at her, you heard and saw who it was that was keeping her busy. “Y/N?!” Jean shouted.

Your eyes briefly glanced at him beside another tree, before they shifted to Armin at her other side a few feet away, and lastly at Reiner below you riding on his horse. His own eyes watching you fly overhead.

Your lips tugged into a smirk and you continued on, releasing your hooks and letting yourself fall towards the ground as The Female Titan swung her hand at you, missing your body and trying to catch a glimpse of you as you flashed forward and hooked your grapples onto the ground a few feet away. You used the stable ground to flip in the sky and be facing her, using your fingers to press on your gas to hastily fly towards her in a blinding rage that made your figure appear like a gust of wind, or a flash of light as you faked going for her nape and instead stabbed your blades on her shoulder and circled your blades around them to weaken her limb. You flew past her and let your body fall forward before you hooked your grabbles on the tree beside Jean, letting your heels scrape the dirt before you pressed on the gas to throw yourself to the sky and flip around in the air and repeat the process with her other shoulder.

In the heat of the moment you didn’t even focus on the three boys that you were now with, your anger raged and blinded you, your newfound strength and speed kept you busy as you tried to control it properly. The Female Titan kept your mind locked on killing her, and you were close; after weakening both arms, watching as they flopped down, you aligned yourself at a perfect spot where you could swing your blades over her nape. Only as you spun forward, and lifted your blades to slash her nape; the moment you let out a frustrated scream, and felt your blades make contact with her flesh, instead of cutting her nape and killing her, your blades suddenly broke as the tips reached the middle of her nape.

Your eyebrows furrowed at the sight and your lips parted in a stunned surprise. “What the hell?!” You look back at her nape before blinking to look back at your broken blades, “what just happened?” Once again you look back at the Female Titan and instead of landing on the ground, your gaze narrows on her and you swiftly flip around to again fly towards her. “No matter,” you sneer whilst you hook your grapples onto the ground beside her. “I’ll finish you.” Instead of going to her nape, first you try to take out her eyes. It was a smart plan, but you didn’t catch the fact that she had healed an arm, you didn’t see her lifting her hand to attempt to grab you from the air. It could’ve been a foolish outcome, but you were saved.

Suddenly, the moment you unhook your grapples and try to press on the gas, you feel another body collide onto yours. They push you out of the way and have you stabbing your blades onto the ground so you could slide back and come to a stop without hitting the ground roughly. Again. And the moment you did stop, you snapped your eyes to where you had been shoved away from, and notice that it had been Reiner who had saved you from being crushed.

His eyes find yours for a brief second to share a short lingering before he tries to kill the Female Titan himself. Only just like she failed to do with you, she successfully grabbed Reiner in her grip. Causing you to drop your blades so you could jump to your feet and cry out his name as you saw her thumb crush his body in her fist. “No! Reiner!”

No. No.

You stepped forward mindlessly and clenched your fist around your handles. You waited, or really you were so stunned that you didn’t know how to truly react. All you felt was your heart sink to your stomach and your breath trap in your lungs.

The moment you could react and were going to try and get revenge for Reiner. Said man suddenly and impressively spun out of the Female Titans fist—“yes,” you grin slowly, watching in awe as he safely landed on the ground.

Nevertheless you couldn’t express such emotion because Jean suddenly grabbed your hand and began pulling you forward with the rest of the group. Leaving behind the Female Titan.

“I think we bought enough time!” Reiner exclaimed to all of you, causing you to look at the Female Titan over your shoulder after you let go of Jean's hand. “Hurry and let’s put some distance from this one! It won’t come after us unless it’s a cannibal!”

Just like Reiner had mentioned, the Female Titan went the other way, letting all of you run away. “Look at that!” You point out, causing Reiner to follow your line of vision and add more comments after you.

“The giant bimbo’s scared and going home.”

Only that didn't feel right. But you didn’t have a chance to point that out as Reiner pointed out the skills you demonstrated moments ago. “Hey, y/n what was that?! Where the hell have you been hiding that skill?! You were impressive!”

“That’s right, I noticed that too, you’ve never shown skill like that before.” Armin interjected from under Reiner's arm.

“You were moving like Mikasa and Captain Levi. What was that?” Jean chimed in too.

Your eyes turned to the boys and their curious stares, before you looked back at the horizon ahead and shrugged cluessely. “I...don’t know.”

.

.

.

.

Tagged- @expectoscamander , @greenygreenland @that-soft-lesbian-friend , @dai-tsukki-desu @usernamehere91 , @avocadopoosae

[lesbianakaashi]

The Forgotten Shounen: Katekyo Hitman Reborn

This is not a “Why you should watch/read khr” or anything like that. This is just me going into the deep dive and throwing my findings at you. I’m making this because khr used to be my favourite series when I was 15 (I had plushees, posters, tradingcards, the art book etc) and now as an adult I constantly find myself baffled at how unknow it seems to be.

1. Okay first what is khr?

Katekyo Hitman Reborn! or just Reborn! is a series by Akira Amano which was published in Weekly Shounen Jump from 2004 to 2012 (with 42 volumes) and got an anime adaption which run from 2006 to 2010 on Tv Tokyo (with 202 episodes and one OVA).

2. What’s it about?

Khr is a parody of the italian mafia and plays in a world where the mafia is heavily influencial. The protagonist is the japanese middle schooler Sawada Tsunayoshi who is known as “No good Tsuna” because of his failing grades, general weak and cowardly personality and weak physics.

He becomes aware of the mafia world when a 2 year old baby called Reborn arrives at his house claiming to be the greatest hitman and declaring himself his home tutor. Reborn was send by the 9th head of the Vongola famiglia who is ready to retire and looking for a new heir. Which of course, is supposed to be Tsuna and now it's Reborns job to shape him into a worthy sucessor.

Tsuna rejects the violence of the mafia world and refuses the position as the 10th. Thanks to Reborn and his general craziness Tsuna meets different people and starts to make real friendships. Reborn wants 6 of those friends to be Tsuna's future guardians, basically a group of people which will be closest to him in the vongola famiglia. Tsuna might have no interest in those positions but the friendships he builds with them become really precious to him.

Reborns arrivial also brings in the enemies of the Vongola family which leads to Tsuna being forced to engage in battles. Generally Tsuna openly avoids fights and prefers to run away but will put himself in danger for his friends' sake or because of something Reborn did.

Through out the series Tsuna matures and gains strenght but he never becomes a power fantasy. He's just a guy with many flaws who grows through the human connections he makes.

Personally I think the relationship between Reborn and Tsuna is one of the best student teacher reltaionships in all of manga only topped by Mob and Reigen from Mob Psycho 100. Especially the last arc really underlines their unique relationship to me.

Furthermore, khr offers a new and unique battle system: The flames. I'm not gonna go into to too much detail but the general idea is that one fights with their dying will flame which basically turns off your the savety switch so you can fight with everything you have. The flames are seperated into different categories such as: sky, storm, mist, rain, sun, lightning and cloud and have different attributes asigned to each one. Tsuna's use of the sky flame and his transformation when using it is still one of my favourite shounen transformations to this day.

3. What happened?

The series did really well and then not so well over the course of its serialisation. After the manga got an anime adaption it increased in populairty and video games, light novels, and other products such as CDs were created based on the series. Reborn is one of the best selling series of Weekly Shōnen Jump and has sold around 30 Million volumes overall. It was and still is very popular in Japan but rather unknown in the west.

According to the article "The Rise and Fall of Weekly Shonen Jump: A Look at the Circulation of Weekly Jump" khr was the 10th bestselling series in Weekly Shōnen Jump, with a total of 7 million copies sold in 2007.

This number increasing to 15 milion in 2008. Which placed khr into the 4th best selling series of 2008 in Japan.

Between 2008 and 2010 those sales declined but still kept strong with khr as the 6th top selling manga in 2009, 8th best selling in 2010 and then 24th best selling in 2012.

In November 2014, readers of the Da Vinci magazine voted khr number 17 on a list of Weekly Shōnen Jump's greatest manga series of all time.

After the anime came to an apprupt stop in 2010 for unknown reasons the manga sells took a visible hit. (Apparently the studio wanted to put the anime on halt because they were busy with other projects and give Akira Amano time to develop her story but I couldn't find any source for this claim) Furthermore, the rushed last chapters of the manga in 2012 declined the popularity of the series even more. There's no offical statement as to why the manga was ended in such a way but it's reasonable to assume that Jump either cut it considering the decreasing sales or Akira Amano choose to end it for personal reasons.

Nontheless, Tsuna not being included in Jump Force (a fighting game where you can play as different characters from Jump) in 2019 even tho he made it in earlier Jump Stars games also underlines the decreased interest in the series.

Rumors on a reboot or anime adaption of the last two arcs surface from time to time but are genereally unlikely. Artland the studio which made khr has gone bankrupt around 2015-2016. It might be taken on by another studio but rather uncommen especially with such an old series.

4. Art style

The khr anime ended over 10 years ago and the old art style might not be appealing to newer audiences.

Especailly because the anime adaption follows Akira Amanos old art style which heavily developed within the years. Here a picture comparing characters in the new art style:

A modern anime adaption in the new art style would be aesthetically pleasing. It would probably look similiar to Psycho Pass since Akira Amano did the concept art for this series.

(My personal art student hot take is that both art styles are unique and fun. Up to this day Akira Amano still has my favourite art style and even if the amount folds in the characters clothing is a little extreme I love it dearly.)

5. Criticism

The show is not without flaws and even if I greatly enjoy it it wouldn't be right not to adress them.

Daily Life Arc:

A lot of people view the first 20 to 25 episodes as fillers and quickly lose intererst in the series. This is due to the fact that Akira Amano inteded the series to be a gag manga and focuses the first chapters on world building, character introduction and comical narratives. It's rumored that the decision to develop the story into a battle shounen was made because the sales weren't doing well enough at first. So the first chapters/episodes may seem titidious but are necessary for the story and the development of the characters. The tonal shift from a more gintama like gag manga to a darker battle focused story can also be offputting to some viewers.

Either way a lot of people blame this arc when discussing why khr never got an english dub or didn't end up on Toonami. I've also read that the manga never finished serializing in the north america. However, it finished in other western languages like german and spanish.

Censoring:

The anime censors A LOT. From Gokudera's smoking habit, Yamamoto's whole character arc which deals with heavy themes such as depression and suicidal thoughts. The general bloodiness of the manga was censored and sometimes whole chapters and characters were left out even if those were important to the devolopment of others.

Filler episodes:

Out of the 202 episodes the anime has around 29 filler episodes which makes roughly 14 %.

Sexism:

Even if Reborn was written by a woman most female characters are rather flat and their storylines often tied to a male character in one way or another.

Genereal things:

Khr, like many other long running series, is sometimes criticised for a lack of world building or unpopular narrative choices.

6. Hope?

Khr isn't exactly dead. As stated before the series is still very popular in Japan and still gets new merch pretty regulary. There are also petitions floating around for a reboot or a new anime season but those never get a lot of traction. Furthermore #Reborn2期アニメ化 (#Reborn2ndAnimation) used to get some traction on twitter not too long ago. Last year the Anime News Network did a poll on which anime the readers would like to see a rebooot of and khr placed second.

Either way here's a collection of recent khr things I could find.

- In 2018 a new bluray set was released in north america

- The khr stage play reached yet another new season

- A mobile game was released last year

- Currently ongoing anime cafe event called "Concerto di Vongola"

- Last month there was an event with the former VAs and stage play actors where they discussed their favourite khr episodes.

- There has been an increase in blind reacts to the openings on youtube which might bring in a new fan base. The biggest one I could find had around 90k views and was made in 2019. On this note check out the soundtrack. The first openeing Drawing Days by SPLAY still makes me go insane (but I'm biased of course)

There also renewed hope for a new season/reboot because Shaman King, Inuyasha and Bleach got anounced for new seasons after a long hiatus. It's important to keep in mind that the circumstances for those series are differnt tho. For example bleachs new anime is often tied to the immense success of the gatcha game.

7. Conclusion

Khr is a series which used to be a flagship for Weekly Shounen Jump and is deeply beloved by it's fans, especially in Japan. It influenced other shounen series like bnha. It would be nice to see it gaining a bigger fanbase in the west :)

[demi-shoggoth]

2022 Reading Log, pt 10

46. Violent Victorians by Rosalind Crone. This book looks at pop culture during 1820-1870 in England, London specifically, and its embrace of violence. It covers the shift in news media from broadsides to newspapers, the rise and fall of the melodrama, and individual characters like Punch and Judy and Sweeney Todd. I think it’s interesting from a perspective of reading what British scholars are saying about British history—in America, it’s taken for granted that the Victorian obsession with respectability was a façade, whereas Crone spends a good deal of the book arguing that point against British scholars who have bought into the image of gentility and “civilizing impulse”. I’ve read whole books on most of the topics covered here in brief, but the book still has interesting and pertinent things to say, and is worth checking out.

47. The Ascent of Birds by John Reilly. This book is aimed at birdwatchers and amateur ornithologists, using bird examples to teach evolutionary theory. I’m approaching it from something of the opposite side—I have a degree in Evolution, but don’t know a ton about birds specifically. So I definitely learned a bunch from this book, both about birds and about various breakthroughs since I was in grad school. The book is arranged in something like phylogenetic order, with the earliest diverging clade of extant birds (the paleognaths; ratites and tinamous) first, and oscine passerines (the songbirds) last. Some of the many topics covered include biogeography, niche partitioning, rates of evolution, sexual selection, behavior and genetic bases for evolutionary change. This gets my highest recommendation if you are at all interested in either birds or evolution. It gets a bit jargon heavy at times, but does explain what that jargon is.

47a. Bestiario del Norte by Pablo Gallo. Usually I use the subheaders to indicate a book that I didn’t finish because I didn’t like it. In this case, this is a book I only sort of read. It’s in Spanish, a bestiary of folkloric monsters from various regions of Spain. And I am not fluent in Spanish. So with a combination of fading high school Spanish and Google Translate, I skimmed the introduction, read the monster entries, and skipped the lengthy section of bibliographies of Spanish folklorists. The book’s text stresses the pagan nature of many of the monsters within, particularly Basque creatures, in a way that feels slightly othering to me, but I could easily be losing the context through translation. The art is weird but not bad—it has a woodcut, collage style that is more designed to evoke the “feeling” of any given creature than its actual appearance. Imagine Terry Gilliam’s Monster Manual and you’re not too far off. My favorite thing I learned is that the alicorn, a Cantabrian unicorn, can trans your gender. I suspect it’s intended in a misogynist way (it can turn women into men on Saint John’s Day), but I prefer to think that alicorns are LGTBQ allies.

48. Twisted Menagerie Manual by Reid San Filippo and Bob Brinkman, et al. This is a monster book for “Umerica”, a setting hack for the Dungeon Crawl Classics RPG. Think a combination of Gamma World, Mad Max and American Gods. The tone of the game is wacky, and the monsters contained within are the same. Examples include autovores, which are literal monster trucks, can crabs, like hermit crabs but in dumps (they come in three sizes: soup, coffee and trash), cyborg dinosaurs with chainsaws for arms, and the like. The first two thirds of the book is in typical Monster Manual fashion, and the back third features bosses, tougher versions of some of the monsters with their goals, followers and plot hooks, and short adventure outlines (some of which use the bosses). Some boss examples include Dr. Augh, a Frankenstein monster (power wight) who runs a hospital that he collects spare parts from, or Rad Fink, a gearhead dragon who cruises the wasteland on a modified tractor-trailer. It’s gory, silly fun, and I now want to check out the rest of the Umerica line.  

49. Why Did the Chicken Cross the World? by Andrew Lawler. This book covers chickens, their history as domesticated animals around the world and the development of the modern industrial chicken, a bird barely recognizable as descended from jungle fowl. Chapters cover topics like the chicken’s role in the spread of humans across Polynesia, the search for the ancestral chicken that briefly engaged Charles Darwin, the role of cockfighting in Philippines culture and the Chicken of Tomorrow. Some of this stuff I knew (“The Chicken of Tomorrow” promotional filmstrip appeared on Mystery Science Theater 3000, and is the most important film they ever watched), but much of it was new to me. The book has a pleasant style and reads quickly, but I would have liked a photo plate section, or even some black and white images.

50. Eating to Extinction by Dan Saladino. The title suggests food that we are wiping out because we’re eating too many of them, but the opposite is true. This book covers food endangered by things like market forces, dying traditions, loss of biodiversity and global conflict. Thirty four different foods are highlighted, each getting a chapter about where they’re grown, their history and who (if anyone) is trying to save them. A recurring character is Nikolai Vavilov, the Russian scientist who first developed the idea of a seed bank, and starved to death in a gulag. Several of the foods covered were collected by him or his students, and many others are being preserved in seed banks that are intellectual descendents of Vavilov’s work. I feel a little proud, and a little lucky that my diet is diverse enough to have tried some of these (Salepo Island red peas, lambic beer). This book makes reference to several others I’ve read, including Why Did the Chicken Cross the World?, above.

[icequeenbae]

Desert Flower (m) Ch. 2 | BBH

Pairing: Baekhyun x Reader x Baëkhyun

Characters: EXO and X-EXO (not all of them mentioned)

EXO vs X-EXO dynamics, complicated relationships, angsty, action, smut (as usual)

Warnings: sorta mingling with your ex’s ‘evil twin’, mentions of blood/ violence (nothing too graphic… I suppose), Y/N gets teary a lot(?), explicit content, rough sex, unprotected sex

Word Count: ~13.5k (full), ~3.4k (Chapter 2)

Summary: Baekhyun, your beloved boyfriend of three years, suddenly breaks up with you and disappears from the city in an attempt to protect you. But leaving you alone and clueless means trouble will surely find you. For it is easy to spot a flower in the desert.

Masterlist   >> One >> Two (m) >> Three (m) >> Four (fin)

Author’s Note: This chapter is going to be a little different! There’s angst, there’s drama, there’s smut... You will find out what I meant by ‘complicated relationships’ 🤭 Don’t forget to share your thoughts^^

Tags: @blahblahblah-boo​ @baeklightsx​ @wooya1224​ @baekklove​

Chapter 2. Get him back

The day he left you it was pouring, and in your mind, it rained ever since. Hours turned into days, days turned into weeks, and weeks flew by. You did everything on autopilot, without thinking or differentiating between tasks. Everything around you was a grey mess, and you couldn’t maintain a single thought in your head, not one thought that didn’t have something to do with the breakup.

Was it even that? He just left, telling you that it was ‘for your own good’. Asking for no opinions. Frankly, you were angry with him. You would've been furious, but it was hard to tap into your irritation when it hurt so much in your chest. For the first time in your life, you realized that you were gone too far. So far, that you felt like a piece of you was missing now. The one you’d possibly never get back.

You also realized that you belonged fully to that friend circle as well — there wasn’t even anyone for you to talk to anymore, or wallow with, which made your sorry ass feel even more pathetic. Your entire world revolved around your protective boyfriend of three years, and now that he was gone it felt as unsafe as ever. Who knows, maybe it was your sixth sense alerting you as to what was to come.

It happened over a month after your last encounter with Baekhyun.

You were lounging in the campus library, mostly because your weeks of heartbreak caused you to miss a few deadlines, so now you had to take additional assignments to do well at the finals. Having no inspiration, or better yet, no one to hurry to, made you stay there for long hours, barely managing to get one task completed at a time.

The space was almost empty since it was rather late, and looking around you suddenly felt a tinge of nostalgia. Muttering that you should get ahold of your stupid self, you walked slowly towards the tall aisle with your useless book. In the labyrinth, you wandered for a bit, reminiscing of the first interaction with your… now ex? Your first boyfriend? Your first love?

The thought left a bitter taste in your mouth, and you opted for walking further as if surrounded by books you could somehow block your bubbling feelings out.

A strange sound caught your attention.

No idea why, you kept walking towards it, soon stepping around the corner and freezing on the spot.

Only a few feet away there was a couple making out. The girl was pressed harshly into the shelves and grunted, as her partner shoved one hand underneath her shirt to squeeze her breast, and his other one grasped her neck, adding to the obscenity of their misplaced passion. You were ready to flush tomato red and vanish on the spot when you noticed something… familiar.

That side profile.

You would never mistake it for anyone else’s.

Wide-eyed in shock, you almost jumped when the male turned around, dark irises foreign to you. His eyebrow raised slightly as he took in your distress with half-lidded eyes, not even bothering to stop groping the girl.

‘B- Baekhyun?’ You said in such a tiny voice that you barely even heard yourself.

The sound of your book dropping to the floor ripped you out of the stupor, and you turned around. Out of the labyrinth you ran, not even bothering to put your belongings back into your bag neatly. You simply grabbed everything from the table and kept running. The surroundings were blurry, but you could see one thing clearly – his lustful eyes, mocking your naivety.

It hurt too much. Unable to hold your tears till you make it home, you found yourself locked in the stall of the nearest bathroom. The way you cried there was almost physically painful, and you struggled to catch enough air as you did. Nor did you care enough to prevent yourself from making noises. Your whole body was shaking with your sobs, and you weren’t entirely sure you hadn’t gone crazy just then. From seeing what you saw. From reopening the still-hurting wounds and seasoning them richly with salt.

However long it took you to dehydrate yourself with the seeping sorrow, you managed to stop, hiccupping only every now and then. Finally shoving your laptop and notes into your bag, you got out of the stall. Walking up to a mirror on wobbly legs, you gasped at your puffy face and red swollen eyes. Not that you really cared, but it was quite late, so you had good chances of sneaking out and getting home unnoticed.

Unless someone would be purposefully waiting for you to show your face, of course.

You took notice of the dark figure across the hall momentarily after exiting the bathroom. Turning the other way, you increased the pace of your steps, almost breaking into running speed to put some distance between the two of you.

‘Hey,’ a voice called from behind, and you felt a hand grabbing your upper arm to stop you.

The nerve he had.

‘Don’t fucking touch me!’ You barked at him, ripping away from his grasp fiercely.

He blinked, letting go, and you almost hiccupped again at the sight of his hair – even more silvery-white now than when he left you, slightly unkempt (from the prior activities, no less). As he opened his mouth to say something, you beat him to it.

‘Don’t talk to me. Don’t even look at me. You make me sick!’ You spat, wanting to both claw at his beautifully sculpted face and to snivel pathetically again. Instead, you turned around and took off before he gathered himself enough to try initiating a conversation again.

Because… What the fuck was he thinking?

***

You fell ill. It probably wasn’t unrelated to what happened at the library, but you became so feverish that your roommate was on the verge of driving you to the hospital. Three days later your fever finally broke, however, you felt weak and drained and depressed for another week afterwards.

Staying at home, you kept rewinding back to the ‘event’. How could he? Coming back like that, and not even having the decency to not screw around right under your nose. You were repulsed by what you saw, and it was almost hateful how the heaviness in your chest only worsened. The bitterness of the situation added to it – he lied to you, just to be with someone else weeks, or, perhaps, even days, hours after. Maybe all of it was a lie, you didn’t know anymore.

This Baekhyun… You didn’t think you’d ever known him.

The subsequent week you avoided all of the crowded areas of the campus, dreading that you’d have to face him again. It would be impossible to maintain your calm in that case, so you took all of the possible precautions. But what could you have done if he was looking for you?

Upon your following encounter, you failed your attempt to vanish out of his sight the way you did before. It was essentially you walking into a trap, as you headed home rather late after finally squeezing your last important assignment out on paper. Not giving the outside world a single moment of attention, you stopped at the top of the stairs to put your phone into your bag and zip it up.

‘Aren’t you a mystery woman, Y/N,’ the voice almost made you drop your stuff.

You glanced up, taking notice of the murky figure, leaning onto a nearby tree. As he began walking in your direction, you turned on your heels and took off. It felt stupid to run from him like this, but you absolutely did not want to break down in front of him. You wanted to preserve at least some dignity.

As you flew down the stairs, you stumbled and almost dove headfirst to the ground. Thankfully, a swift limb wrapped around you before you could do that.

‘Are you dumb?’ He exclaimed into your ear.

‘Let go of me!’ You writhed in his hold, trying to free your body from the illusive familiarity of his touch.

‘You’re a danger to yourself! What the fuck,’ he swore under his breath, releasing you at once.

‘I told you to leave me alone. Do whatever you want, just stay out of my freaking life, Baekhyun!’ You yelled in his face, fuming from his shameless behavior. Why was he acting like nothing was even wrong with this?

‘Unbelievable. Your twin screws someone over, and you’re the one held accountable,’ he rolled his eyes.

Twin… what?

‘What are you talking about?’ You asked in bewilderment.

‘I believe, introductions are in order. I’m Baëkhyun, nice to meet you.’

***

That was… embarrassing. So embarrassing.

You had no idea there was, well, a live copy of Baekhyun walking around. And even though your ex-boyfriend was secretive, you couldn’t believe he left something like this out. Were you an actual joke to him?!

Baëkhyun said they weren’t particularly close. He explained to you that he hadn’t seen his twin in years, and his friends helped him obtain the little knowledge of his whereabouts that led him here. Thinking he could find Baekhyun by asking around he… got ‘involved’ with a girl or two. Or a dozen, who knows? But, apparently, your reaction the first time you’d met piqued his curiosity. When you flushed at the memory, apologizing profusely, he only said that he found it odd and strangely cute, the way you got upset with him.

‘I’m not as great of a guy as Baekhyun,’ he shrugged. ‘Not that I’m trying to be, anyways.’

You frowned.

After the way he left you, Baekhyun was not at the top of your ‘greatest people of all times’ list either. You could understand why your new acquaintance mentioned this, you had witnessed enough to gather that he was not at all well-behaved. Also, his ways of extracting information… Not very professional, to say the least. But who were you to judge? Now that you’d learned that he wasn’t your ex, you were genuinely ashamed of the hysteria of the past couple of weeks.

But Baëkhyun was different.

When he got your number and promised to text, you didn’t think much of it. You hummed and rolled your eyes – as if that was going to happen. Yet he surprised you by sending a quick message the following week. And then… you just kept talking. Which went on for a while, whilst you’d grown slightly addicted to it. Somehow, Baëkhyun became the only person who could take your mind off of his twin. So, even when you finally went on the long-awaited summer break, you stayed in touch with him. And not only via text – you’d been seeing each other on a regular basis.

Randomly at first – you’d just bump into him somewhere around the university premises, and he’d then suggest grabbing coffee. But as it progressed, you ended up inviting him over for dinner. Partially because you felt acutely lonely with your roommate gone, and partially because… you missed him. It was hard to put a finger on it – you’d initially thought that it was just misplaced longing for Baekhyun that pushed you towards his twin, and it felt so wrong. Almost like you wanted to use him to soothe the ache in your heart that had been bothering you ever since your ex-boyfriend had left.

Yet Baëkhyun seemed so magnetic. He hypnotized you with his blue eyes, which changed from the icy light color to dark, almost black, and were just as sharp as his twin’s. And his sassy smirk – the one he had plastered across his face almost always. Baëkhyun wasn’t warm like Baekhyun, yet there was still something about him that had you walking willingly into his trap. Maybe it was the mysterious glint in his eyes as he looked down at you or the way he sized you up whenever he caught a glimpse of you, like you were his prey. Being alone with him felt both dangerous and exciting, and you kept fooling yourself, basing your blind trust on nothing but his relation to your ex.

You never noticed how quickly he managed to build trust between you. And how you didn’t even know much about him, yet you did tell him a lot. Like that one time, he asked you where you thought Baekhyun was.

‘Wouldn’t I like to know,’ you chuckled, sadness in your voice. ‘He just left. I don’t think he even kept his phone.’

‘I always said he was the dumb one of the two. And to think that he’s the strategist,’ he snorted, splayed on your couch comfortably.

You looked at your hands in your lap, subconsciously calming yourself by playing with your fingers.

‘Stop,’ you shivered as his palm covered your fidgety hands. ‘Stop thinking about him.’

Eyes traveling to his face, you caught a glimpse of the frown that formed there.

And then he kissed you. Out of the blue, giving you no time to think or pull away.

And you let him. Grabbing at the soft leather of his pants, you allowed him to do as he pleased with you. Baëkhyun tasted familiar, though his kissing was anything but – rough and messy, lots of tongue and teeth, making your head spin with flaming passion. You didn’t resist when he pulled you into his lap, or when he ripped your clothes off, item by item. He was not asking and you were not thinking. It didn’t feel like something you should stop at the time. Rather, you thought you would’ve cried had he paused for longer than a second, so you kept clinging to him in response.

The demanding grip he had on your thighs only made you crave it more, lust seeping into your system as you wrapped your arms around his neck and rolled your hips into his. He emitted a deep sound, helping you grind on him.

‘Good girl,’ he gritted into your lips, landing a slap or two on your ass along the way.

As you kept going, your bare breasts grazed his skin, and your panties became soaked and sticky. You were probably flushed rosy red as you chased the tight feeling in your lower abdomen, his eyes hungrily taking in your frenzy. He slapped you again, a sharp hit resonating through you like electricity.

‘Baëk,’ you half-moaned. ‘Please fuck me-’

You couldn’t even believe that you were begging him like that, out loud. But the desperation grew as your body threw itself at him, demanding release.

He moved your panties out of the way, fingers instantly getting wet with your arousal.

‘Such a needy little slut,’ he murmured, making you shiver.

It was all new. The name-calling, the manhandling, the way he bit harshly into your lower lip and tugged at your hair. And somehow, it was exactly what you needed.

He didn’t waste much time to prep you, opting for taking his already hard length out and running the tip between your folds, making you jolt and cry out, nails digging into the back of his neck.

‘Sink on my cock and take what you want. Like a bad girl would.’ He addressed in a low voice, smearing the remainder of your lipstick over your mouth with his thumb. ‘Wanna be a whore for me?’

‘Yes,’ you muttered, and he smacked you on the ass again, emphasizing that you needed to be louder. ‘Yes!’

He let go of your hips, hands resting on your legs, allowing you to slam down on your own. You whimpered at the slight burn but kept going. Moving this fast wasn’t the way you were used to doing it, but all the more exciting for that. Using his shoulders to steady yourself, you worked your hips hard. A sheen of sweat on your chest glimmered as you increased the pace, wailing as his tip nudged at your cervix. He watched you with his dark blue eyes, hands kneading your ass, and filthy mouth guiding you.

‘Squeeze your tight little hole.’

Meanwhile, you struggled to maintain the tiresome pace, yet held onto the sensation of his girth pressing against your walls as he glided in and out of you.

‘Ah fuck, Baëkhyun!’ You moaned, feeling the tickle of perspiration making its way down your abs.

‘I know you’re close.’ He licked his lips seductively. ‘Want me to help?’

‘Yes, yes, please,’ you keened, leg almost cramping from the uncomfortable position.

‘Leave your begging for another time, baby. Like I said, if you want something, you should take it.’

You whined, head spinning at the suggestion. His eyes, expectant, traced the stubborn crease between your brows while you kept rocking your hips. Then, you did the first thing that came to your blurry mind. Your hands reached up to grasp his hair and pull hard, tilting his head back and leaving the long column of his neck exposed for the attack of your lips. Sucking a bruise on it harshly, you then used your teeth to ensure he’d have a bright mark in a few hours. Creeping up his neck and his jaw, you licked at his lower lip, and then into his mouth – like an animal would.

‘Oh,’ he smirked, hands seizing you and holding you down, with him snug inside you. ‘So, my good girl is not as innocent as she seemed?’ He teased, the lustful glint in his eyes boosting your confidence to the level of insolence.

‘Shut up,’ you replied firmly, sliding off of him and flopping backwards to finally get some circulation in your legs. ‘Stop slacking off and make me come, you asshole.’

His eyes flashed at your brazen words. Shoving you roughly until you were flat on your back, he grabbed onto your thighs, dragging you closer to him. Instantly you cried out as he landed two consecutive slaps on your pussy, holding his heavy hard-on at the base. Pleased with your reaction, he did it again, not saying another word before he bottomed out inside you. A new wave of arousal washed over you, and you clenched around him, eyes fluttering shut. He didn’t even think to spare you the morning soreness as he nailed you like an actual whore.

‘Ah right there, right there- oh fuck, Baëkhyun,’ you sobbed, clawing at his flexed arm, when he placed one of your legs over his shoulder and leaned forward, basically stretching you open for himself.

This position made you feel vulnerable, like you had no choice but to take everything he was giving you, but it was what you needed. His every thrust resonated inside, making your muscles clench, and ripping more curses and moans out of you. Even though his pace was rather brutal, there wasn’t too much pain along with it – Baëkhyun knew all the right spots.

Mouth agape, you arched your back in silent agony, and a few more hits of his thighs later came so hard that it almost made you pass out on the spot. The hand over your mouth muffled your scream, and he let your leg slide off of his shoulder, pressing his palm against it to keep you in place and prevent you from closing your knees.

Muscles contracting uncontrollably, you whimpered at his continued thrusts as you became too sensitive from the drawn-out pleasure, tears soaking your lashes by the time he finally pulled out.

Baëkhyun grunted lowly, and you opened your eyes to witness him jerk himself off at the sight of your swollen, fucked out pussy, not even blinking until thick ropes of his semen painted your lower belly.

Despite having just performed a thorough fucking, he lowered himself on his elbow slowly and brushed the rogue strands of hair away out of your eyes.

‘You’re a naughty one. I love it,’ he murmured, positioning one of his hands on your neck as he kissed you deeply. ‘Don’t worry, I’ll teach you how to be in control.’

And so, you let yourself fall down the rabbit hole. And there was no telling what you’d gotten yourself into.

>> Chapter 3

A/N: Whooo, Baёk is here, stirring some kind of trouble, isn’t he? 🤭 Our poor Y/N-ie is walking on thin ice. What do you think of their relationship? Feels a little bit like cheating, right? Technically it isn’t. But still, the darkness is always pretty seductive...

[desertno3]

Violet – Chapter Two (3/7)

When Sean finally meets his daughter, you wonder why you ever left him in the first place.

Sean Wallace x fem!reader Chapter Two: 1787 words

Prologue // Chapter One

A/N: Welp, sorry I said this would be up soon and then immediately went and took like two weeks to finalise it. Anyway, here’s the Sean and Violet interaction we’ve all been waiting for! Let me know what you think!

Taglist: @ysmmsy​ @prettyinpayne​ @the-a-word-2214​ Let me know if you want to be added to the taglist for this series!

“Can you help me colour this in, mum?”

You have to repress a tired sigh at your daughter’s request.

“Sorry, Vi, I can’t right now,” You tell her, scrolling through real estate listings on your phone. You’d been looking ever since the incident because there was no way in hell you were going to go back to your old place after what happened. “Maybe later, yeah?”

You hear her huff and when you look up, she’s already walking out of the room, crayons and colouring book in hand - no doubt on the hunt for someone else to ask.

You shouldn’t have been surprised at the way Violet had made herself right at home in the Wallace household, quickly warming up to everyone even though she’d just met them. It was just the kind of child she was. If she could, she would go right up to total strangers and talk to them but you’d made sure to nip that habit in the bud early, sitting her down and telling her why it was dangerous to do so. She was the most gregarious and self-assured little girl you’d ever known - and you were sure her Wallace genes played a strong part in making that happen.

~

Sean groans in frustration, leaning against the kitchen counter as he does so. Elliot had just called to say that the latest lead Sean had him following went nowhere and now Sean was wracking his brain to figure out who else could have been behind the intrusion of your home.

The intruder in question had been of no help, naturally. Sean had done what he could to pry information out of him but the man said nothing - and Sean wasn’t sure if it was out of loyalty or because he’d lost so much blood he couldn’t think straight. In the end, Sean didn’t even have to finish him off because the gunshot you’d inflicted did the job well enough. He decided he wouldn’t tell you that, though. You were shaken enough as it was.

“Are you okay?”

Sean’s jolted out of his thoughts by the little voice and when he looks up, Violet’s hoisting herself up onto one of the stools on the other side of the counter. She then looks at him expectantly, waiting for his answer to her question.

“I am,” Sean replies, still watching her curiously.

Besides the brief introduction where you’d told Violet he was your friend, he hadn’t yet properly interacted with her. For one, he had been too preoccupied with trying to track certain people down but the other reason was that he didn’t know how you would react to it if he did. You’d clearly been avoiding bringing up the topic of Violet’s parentage and he’d let you avoid it - for now. 

“Will you colour in with me?” She asks, taking him out of his reverie yet again. “My mum’s busy.”

Sean blinks at her, processing the request. He wonders if he should say no - after all, he has so much to do - but she looks so hopeful that he doesn’t want to. When he eventually caves and says yes, he’s taken aback by the fondness he feels at the way she beams and hops off the stool, coming over to him to take his hand and lead him to the living room where she’d already had her colouring book all set up.

~

You’re more than surprised when you come downstairs half an hour later and see the two of them sitting at the coffee table, colouring in together.

“What colour do you think should go here?” Sean asks her, pointing to a blank spot on the page.

“Green! No, wait!” Violet’s expression scrunches up as she surveys all the colours in front of them. “Yeah, green.”

You watch as Sean chuckles, complying with her wishes as he reaches for the green crayon. He starts colouring in the area while Violet happily observes, the section she was working on long forgotten as she peers intently at the way Sean was doing it.

You feel a slight pang in your heart as you watch them, knowing you had kept them from having moments like this. It’s a fleeting feeling, however, because Violet looks up and spots you.

“Mummy!”

“Hi, love,” You greet her, walking over to press a kiss to the crown of her head. “I see you’ve wrangled Sean into colouring with you.”

“We’re colouring in this page right now,” Violet says excitedly, showing it to you. “But we also did the one with the horses. You know, the one me and you didn’t get to finish?”

She flips through the book and shows you the page in question.

“That’s great, darling,” You tell her, fondly smoothing her hair down. “Now, why don’t you go outside and play for a bit, hm? Let Sean get back to his work.”

She nods, taking the crayon from him and putting them all back in the box.

“Thanks for colouring with me, Sean,” She smiles before turning and scampering off excitedly to the backyard.

“Don’t forget your hat!” You call out to her but she’d already disappeared around the corner, leaving a silence to settle between you and Sean in the living room.

“She’s a chatty one,” He comments, breaking the silence as he gets up off the floor. “Would fit right in with my dad’s side of the family.”

You just hum in acknowledgement, avoiding his knowing gaze. You’d always thought the same thing but you didn’t want to tell him that, not yet wanting to confirm or deny anything to do with Violet being a Wallace even though there really was no point in doing so - you knew Sean knew, even if you hadn’t yet spoken about it.

“Y/n,” He says, waiting until you actually looked at him. “Did you know you were pregnant when you broke up with me?”

There it was.

You’d spent the last few days waiting for him to bring it up - surprised he even let it stay unaddressed for this long - and yet you find yourself still completely unprepared to have this conversation.

You shake your head. “I only found out about a month after.”

Not that it matters. What matters was that you could have told him at any point during your pregnancy or at any point after Violet was born, but you never did. You scan Sean’s face desperately, hating that you can’t read him as well as you used to be able to. 

“I’m sorry, Sean,” You say and you think you’ve never meant an apology more in your life. “I thought it would be safer to keep her away. Even after I found out I… I didn’t think coming back to you pregnant was a good idea.”

“Still, I deserved to know about her, y/n. She deserves to know about me.”

You drop your gaze, ashamed. “I know. God, I know, okay? But I was scared.”

You know that doesn’t excuse anything but you had to be honest. He had to at least know why you did what you did at the time.

“Scared of what? Me?”

“Of the people you were working with!” You clarify. “I was scared that if they knew about her they might-”

“They would never even get close,” He cuts you off, his tone developing a menacing edge to it at the mere thought of anyone laying a hand on Violet. “I wouldn’t have fucking let them.”

There's a heavy silence in the air and you watch him sigh in frustration, trying to work through his temper. Your own heart hammers against your chest at finally being forced to face the consequences of your decisions.

“I would’ve kept you both safe,” He eventually says, his voice slightly calmer. “If you had just let me, I would’ve done it.”

“I know,” You admit quietly, remorsefully. “I know you would have. But at the time... Sean, your way of keeping us safe wasn’t my way of keeping us safe. You know that."

He purses his lips, remembering all the times in the past you two would argue because he would always get himself into more violent situations than you thought was necessary. The way you saw it, he was unnecessarily digging his own grave with every altercation he found himself in whereas he’d grown up being taught that violence was a necessary measure to keep certain people at bay, to remind them who was in charge, and to prevent them from threatening the people he cared about - namely you, at the time.

“I could never get my head around why you would go through all that trouble, Sean. But I get it now.”

His eyes bore into yours, his brow furrowing slightly as he takes in what you just said.

“What changed?”

You open your mouth to reply when you jump at the sound of banging at the window. Both of you look to see Violet on the other side of it holding up a football, clearly wanting you to play outside with her. You give her a nod, holding up a finger to let her know you’ll be out in a minute.

“I had her,” You answer as you both watch Violet grin and run down to the other side of the backyard. “I’d literally do anything to keep her safe, anything just to make sure she’s okay.”

Sean looks out the window for a long time, to the point where you think he’s still stewing in his anger, but then he lets out a little amused-sounding huff.

“What?” You ask, slightly confused.

“Now you know why I used to get into all those fights for you.”

Your expression softens at that but he doesn't see it. He's deliberately not looking at you, immediately feeling like he’s made himself a bit too vulnerable after saying that. He glances at Violet, kicking the ball around all on her lonesome, and it reminds him of the reason you’d returned to his life in the first place. 

“I have to make some calls,” He says, shifting back into business mode. “I have to find another lead.”

“I really am sorry, Sean,” You tell him, ignoring his change of topic. You needed to make sure he knew that.

He looks at you and sighs. “I know. And I get why you did it. As much as I fucking hate it, y/n… I do understand.”

It’s more than you could have ever asked from him. You nod and one last look of acknowledgement passes between you two before he disappears to his office and you head out to be with Violet, feeling lighter than you have felt in a while now that everything was finally out in the open.

[darlingandmreames]

I rewatched The Ritual the other night for the first time in a while and am officially Back On My Bullshit, which means lots of thoughts and opinions that I am now going to make everyone else's problem. So without further ado, here are my thoughts on The Ritual's themes, character dynamics, and how the movie (in my opinion) improved upon the book

(spoilers for both the book and the movie)

Themes

So what is The Ritual actually about? I mean, obviously it's about a freaky forest monster that kills people and grants one of those kinds of immortality where you really gotta read the fine print, but underneath all that what is it actually about?

The answer depends a bit on both whether you're talking about the book or the movie, and how detailed you're being about it. Both the book and the movie share the very broad theme of "moving on", but what the characters are "moving on" from is different in each. I'd argue that the book primarily deals with moving on from past chapters in your life- cherishing the good memories, acknowledging and accepting the failures, and moving forward without becoming stuck on either.

The movie, on the other hand, is very explicitly about trauma, pain, and grief, and the process of confronting and moving on (or NOT moving on) from those experiences. This is achieved by the introduction of Rob, a character who didn't exist in the book. His actual appearance in the movie is brief, but his death is the driving force behind the entire movie. It's sudden, violent, and senseless, and it provides a very distinct and viscerally present context for the character interactions moving forward (more on that later). Rob's death faces the characters with a complex, heartbreaking, and traumatic loss and allows the movie to explore what it means to confront and move on from something like that, as well as the consequences of NOT doing so, by making that pain and grief into a very real (and beautifully designed) monster.

And that's where the movie's second major change comes in: the portrayal of the cult. I.... admittedly didn't really care for the cult portion of the book all that much honestly. It wasn't bad and some of my favourite lines were actually from that part of the book, but it felt almost jarringly different from the first part of the book to me. I felt like the heavy metal teen cultists were very much at odds with the sense of sinister supernaturality the first part of the book had spent building.

I loved the cult in the movie though. These are people who worship the personified (monstrified?) pain and grief that stalks the forest. They were chosen to survive specifically because of their own personal pain ("why me?" "Your pain is great") and by worshipping the monster they're kept in the forest and granted an immortality that saves them from death but not decay. It's a beautiful look at the consequences of being unable/unwilling to move on from pain/loss/grief and instead being consumed by it. The cultists are defined by their pain to the point that it eventually warps them into something almost unrecognizable. By worshipping Moder they are literally unable to move on, both physically (they're stuck in the forest) and spiritually (they can't die). Whereas the cult in the book felt jarringly different in tone from the story leading up to it, the cult in the movie tied into the theme beautifully and provided Luke with a look at his future if he allows his own pain to consume him.

Which brings us to....

Characters

A stories themes are often best portrayed through it's characters, and in this case that mostly means Luke.

Luke in the book is....well, to be honest, he isn't really that sympathetic or even that likeable when we first meet him or really for a large chunk of the story, at least not in my opinion. He's a 36 year old man-child who's clearly still chasing the glory of his college days and who's life up until now has mostly been characterized by failures, flakiness, and not taking responsibility for any of it. And on top of that, he's angry. The kind of angry that's violent, easily provoked, and generally unwarranted. All of the characters are facing failures at the end of this chapter of their lives to some degree (such as Phil being separated from his wife), but Luke is very clearly the least well adjusted- and least sympathetic- of them. His character arc revolves around him learning to move on from this previous chapter in his life, accepting the good and the bad and finally being willing to move forward with determination. In the beginning of the book Luke is characterized by indifference and petulant anger that masks fear and doubt, but he ends the book with a desire to move forward and determination to survive.

The inclusion of Rob and his subsequent death COMPLETELY changes Luke's character though and, in my opinion, makes him FAR more compelling and sympathetic. We still get similar notes to where he starts out as we did in the book; whereas Rob, Dom, Hutch, and Phil have all clearly settled down and moved on from their uni days, Luke obviously hasn't. This is made clear in his suggestions for the lad's holiday, his wanting to get a bottle of liquor after they leave the bar, and his conversation with Rob when they're in the liquor store. Movie!Luke really isn't all that different from book!Luke in the first scene or two.

Rob's brutal murder profoundly changes Luke's character though. He's left dealing with the grief and loss left in the wake of Rob's death, as well as the guilt associated with not having been able to stop it. By taking a character that may not otherwise be particularly sympathetic or likeable and having the audience watch him experience a deeply horrifying and traumatic loss, the movie makes Luke into an extremely compelling character and set him for a far more emotionally engaging character arc as he struggles to cope with both his grief and his guilt.

As I mentioned above, the cult in the movie provides Luke with a glimpse of the consequences of allowing his pain and grief to consume him. Now, the cult in the book sort of does the same thing- the indifferent anger and violence of the cultists mirrors Luke's own anger covering his fear and doubt and shows what could happen if he embraced that part of him. But the cult in the movie, in my opinion, works far better in this role because they feel more thematically and tonally in line with the rest of the movie and because Luke is a more sympathetic character. His decision to accept or reject that path carries more weight because we care about him. Moreover, accepting the same path as the cultist would provide him with a community that understands his pain, something he very much did not have with his friends; we understand that accepting the cult is a bad decision, but we also understand why Luke would be tempted to do so. Simply put, we feel for him and that makes the presentation of this choice much more emotionally impactful.

Interestingly, Luke's character arc in both the book and the movie end with him developing the desire and determination to survive. It comes from two very different places though. In the book, it revolves around Luke's willingness to finally close out the previous chapter of his life- highs and lows and all- and move forward into the future despite the fear and uncertainty doing so may provoke.

In the movie, though, this decision comes within the context of Luke's survivor's guilt. He feels guilty over Rob's death because he wasn't able to intervene and this guilt is reinforced by the other characters, most notably Dom and, later, Hutch. His decision to reject Moder, to fight back and refuse to kneel, represents not only his decision to move on from his grief and trauma but also the acknowledgement that despite what happened he still has worth and his life is still worth living. It also resolves his struggle with his inability to help (which plays a large role in his guilt), something that comes into play in all of the deaths in the movie even beyond Rob's. In Hutch's death Luke tried to find him but was unable to find him until it was far too late. In Phil's death he's initially paralyzed before running away, both in fear, in much the same way he did in Rob's death. In Dom's death he was able to take the necessary steps to help Dom (dislocating his thumb to get out of the restraints) but was ultimately too late and was forced to watch Dom die anyways. By recognizing that he still has worth and that is life is worth living, Luke is able to act in spite of his fear and make the decision not to allow his grief, pain, and trauma to consume him.

No discussion of Luke as a character is completely without also discussing how he interacts with the other characters and hoooo BOY did the movie really ratchet those interactions up a notch or ten. The interactions in the book were well written but they admittedly felt a little one note at times (though this is also probably somewhat due to me viewing book!Luke as not particularly likeable or sympathetic). By including Rob's death the movie adds a layer of complexity to the character interactions that I felt really wasn't there in the book and we get to see the interpersonal effects of traumatic loss. Luke may have been the only one to witness Rob's death but they're all grieving him, and we get to see how that (and how Luke's friends' perception of his role in Rob's death) impacts and strains their relationships. As I mentioned earlier, we see very clearly that Luke doesn't have any real support or understanding from his friends; Dom does little to hide the fact that he views Luke as directly responsible for what happened and while Hutch does initially attempt to provide support, it comes off as superficial and he later admits he isn't sure whether he blames Luke. Luke is very clearly struggling with what happened but can't turn to the people he would normally rely on for support, and his interactions with his friends often alienate him and further reinforce the guilt and blame he's grappling with rather than provide any source of comfort. This, again, makes the temptation to submit to Moder and join the cult, to give into his pain and grief and loss and let it consume him, that much more compelling and his choice to reject it that much more meaningful.

Overall, the movie's decision to add in Rob and his subsequent death and to change how the cult was portrayed was, in my opinion, a truly excellent one and helped move the movie from a story I would've enjoyed but shrugged off into legitimately one of my favourite movies of all time. It allowed for a more thematically and tonally consistent story and made both Luke and his character arc more sympathetic, compelling, and emotionally impactful. When it comes to adaptations I generally tend to enjoy the book more than the movie, but this is one of the few exceptions where I truly believe the movie significantly improved upon the book

[basicjetsetter]

The Fall of Deus

♡ Pairing: Mob!Peter Parker x BlackFemale!Reader

♧ Setting: The Terrace Room in The Plaza Hotel, New York

♤ Warnings: Heavy Suspense, Language, Adult Themes, Violence, Gambling, Drinking

♢ Word Count: 6.5k

☆ A/N: No joke, this took me about two years to conceptualize. Two freaking years. But I can 100% say it was worth it to write every word. This is by far one of my most creative works and I love that I get to finally share it with you all. Please hit like if you enjoy it, leave me a lil’ comment and a reblog if you love it. Happy reading!

You couldn’t help but notice and admire how pretty the sky appeared when it was tinged in the auroral haze of an autumn morning and backdropped by the twinkling glass panes of New York’s notorious skyscrapers. Though autumn’s end isn’t for a couple of weeks, the lukewarm season allowed Manhattan a preview of winter’s frigid air. The city's constant roar hummed down to a distant lullaby as you walked up the steps and in through the doors of the Metropolitan Detention Center.

It’s an impressively modern building, one you’ve become intimately familiar with in the past couple of years. Everything inside screams order, from the plain white, bleach-scented linoleum floors to the rows upon rows of caged boxes containing a range of one-time offenders, serial criminals, and constant jailbirds. The first time you ever entered the establishment, it struck you just how much the atmosphere felt devoid and depraved, almost as if hope and happiness got stopped, frisked, and turned away at the door. You never liked staying more than necessary.

None of the four guards stationed along the main lobby walls paid you any attention as you marched up to the reception desk. Their inattention didn’t spawn out of contempt but out of fear. They knew who you were here for.

The receptionist, on the other hand, wouldn’t care if the Queen of England herself hop-scotched through the front entrance, bowed, and bestowed him the coveted Royal Crown on a jewel-encrusted platter.

He certainly never took an interest in your frequent visits. The first time you set foot into this building, a bright-eyed attorney anxious to speak with her first client, the oaf of a man merely grunted at your carefully constructed introductions and waved you off like a pesky fly. On a typical day, your exchange of words consisted of him curtly asking you to state your business while he half-listened to your response and stabbed at his keyboard with blunt fingers. Detaching his gaze from the monitor might have required exhaustion of his half-assed energy.

Today wasn’t unlike any other day. Phillips told you your client's location, even though you both knew the area by heart. Third floor. Cell Block E. Number 7. Always Number 7. Lucky Number 7.

Most of your ordinary clients got shipped to this facility and locked up with the rest of the inmates until you picked up their case. Unlike this particular client you planned on springing today, those other men lacked the say-so to determine their cell. None of them came close to his status. They didn’t have the power nor the money to hire a personal attorney, and none of their crimes could ever match those of the calculated, cunning man who controlled all New York's avenues and boulevards.

In the streets, he’s known as Deus. Depending on how close you are in his circle, he's either Parker or Pete. The name in the system is Peter Benjamin Parker. Your fiancé.

| Last Evening  |

“Stop fidgeting with your collar, Peter.”

“This fucking bowtie keeps… shit… it keeps choking me.” He growled out his frustration. “I’m going to fire that damn stylist.”

You threw him an exasperated glare as he ripped off the accessory. “Maybe if you hadn’t told him to pick any old bowtie, you wouldn’t be whining so much.”

“Remind me again why you're forcing me to wear this, anyway?” He paused for effect, placing his hand under his chin like Rodin’s The Thinker, and then snapped his fingers in dramatic realization. “Oh, right! Because Stark is a pretentious asshole, who thinks tuxedos are mandatory at all events thrown in his honor.”

Peter may hate the idea of wearing a formal tuxedo for the whole night, but you were going to enjoy every last minute of him in that attire, mainly because he resembles a model who stepped right off the page of a GQ cover. The low-lighting in this limousine certainly did its best to heighten your mood, highlighting the sharp angles of Peter’s clenched jaw. You’d have to remember to send Pepper a Thank You basket for planning the event as Black Tie.

“Can you at least pretend to get along with Tony tonight?” To see if his jaw could tighten any further, you coyly add, “He is the new Governor of New York, after all.”

Mission accomplished. Peter leaned his head back against the headrest and rubbed his eyes with the heel of his hands, the light that glinted off of his platinum Rolex creating a scattered array of lights against the black leather seats. You pried your eyes off the extension of his neck as he spoke. “Great,” he huffed. “That’s exactly what I need right now. A gloating Stark who’s now legally duty-bound to hound my ass. One more thing to think about.”

As the limo pulled up to a slow halt in front of the Plaza Hotel, you grabbed one of Peter’s hands and held it until his eyes met yours. You gave him a reassuring smile and said, “Everything’s going to be alright, baby.”

The driver opened the door before Peter could speak and held out his gloved hand for you. You’ve been to the Plaza Hotel on many occasions, mostly business, and yet the sight of the château-styled building at night, with its myriad of lit windows and its luxurious lobby never ceased to leave you breathless. The view effectually took your gaze away from Peter’s tux, but not for long. The moment he stepped out of the limo, bathed in the golden light of the building, you felt transfixed all over again.

Peter discreetly tipped the driver and then turned to face you, clearly not as impressed with the Plaza Hotel as you were. He placed his warm hands on the swells of your hips and pulled you in front of him. His eyes appraised you, from your stiletto heels to your tight-fitted, off the shoulder evening dress, traveling up to your chunky Senegalese twists elegantly laid over your shoulder. He let out a low whistle and said, “If looks could kill…”

You straightened his collar and opened up the top button of his gingham dress shirt for both your sakes, then swiftly leaned in and planted a chaste kiss on his lips. “You’re not too shabby yourself, Mr. Parker.”

He wolfishly grinned as you quickly detached yourself from his borderline caressing hold. You knew he’d want more than a short kiss, but you couldn’t afford to get sidetracked tonight.

“Behave,” you chided.

“And if I don’t, future Mrs. Parker?” he prodded, a huskiness in his tone that sent a delicious shiver through you. His steps slowly brought him closer and closer to where you stood, and you weren’t sure if you’d have the will power to move away again. One proper kiss wouldn’t hurt…

A disembodied voice groaned in your ear. “Book a room!”

Peter chuckled unabashedly. “Sorry, Ned.” Though he tried to appear unaffected, Peter made an effort to clear his throat and tugged at his collar. “You ready on your end?”

“Yeah. Mic’s clear. Computer’s up and running. I’m all set. Can’t say the same for you two.”

You glance accusingly at Peter, who waggled his eyebrows at you. “We’re ready. Sorry about that. You know how Peter gets when I wear twists.”

Ned verbally shuddered. “Don’t remind me. I still refuse to sit on my couch, by the way, even after washing it four times! You owe me a new couch, dude. For my trauma.”

Peter half-heartedly grinned at the ground and said, “Dude, if we pull this off, I’ll buy you a whole new furniture set.” The one half of his grin faded away, replaced with a grim line of determination and sobriety. “Where’s he at?”

A few clicks rang through your ear-piece, then Ned replied, “Not far. About twenty minutes away, on Queens Boulevard in Elmhurst. Might be a while before he reaches the Plaza, though. There’s a jam on the bridge.”

“Cool, thanks. Keep us updated.” Peter didn’t want you to catch his expression, but you didn’t need to directly see it to realize he’s in business mode, cold and calculated, little to no warmth or playfulness left in his brown eyes.

Copying your move, he took your hand and held it until you both stared at each other. Briefly, with your eyes locked in place, he searched for any sliver of doubt, giving you one last option to ditch and save face while he executes the plan solo. You did not doubt that he and Ned could somehow pull it off without so much as a hiccup. Odds always work in Peter’s favor. For the past three years that you’ve known him, he’s never lost a gamble. Tonight, though, the gamble must include you, a new piece to his complicated game—a variable. If anything were to head south, the last thing Peter would want is to implicate you.

You understood the risks: the potential loss of your career, your squeaky clean record, and possibly your life. You wouldn’t be here, with him of all people, if you didn’t trust the plan. So you didn’t sway, letting your eyes confirm where you stood on the matter. I’m sticking with you. This exchange passed in absolute silence, ending with a small nod and a lingering kiss to your palm.

It’s always surprising to see Peter without a trace of humor or good-nature in his eyes. It took you a while to acclimate to his night and day demeanor and even longer to trust which emotions were real and which served a purpose. As he slides a cocky smile back onto his face, one that graces every part of his features, and holds out his arm for you, you knew. He’s in his element.

The game’s begun.

♢ ♤ ♡ ♧

Not even five seconds into the Terrace Room and your jaw hit the floor. Pepper sure knows how to out-do herself.

The room displayed the same historic French charm as the outside façade, but much more grand, decorated with multiple crystalline chandeliers, large stone semicircular archways, and classical art adorning the ceilings. Somehow, Pepper’s touch of cream-colored table cloths, bouquets of immaculate white peonies, golden napkins, and floating candle holders added the perfect ambiance for Tony’s celebration.

True to his fashion.

The Man of the Hour is currently giving his speech at the head table as the Maître D’ checks your reservation and prompts a server to escort you and Peter to your table. It’s located not too far away from Tony's, near a stone wall and a divider separating the other tables. You weren’t entirely familiar with the three people who were already seated, but they graciously offered quiet nods of welcome. Peter grabbed your chair for you and smoothly pushed you in before taking his seat next to you while you strained to catch the last bits of Tony’s speech.

“… and I can truly say that without you, my amazing colleagues, friends, and organizers present tonight, this win would not have been possible. I thank you from the bottom of my heart. And um, yeah. Thank you, all.” Tony lifted his champagne flute into the air with a flourish and a winning grin. Peter rolled his eyes. “Here’s to an awesome four years as New York’s new Governor.”

Everyone stood up to give him a round of applause, Peter’s claps more grudging than encouraging, but you were glad he put in some effort. When he looked your way, you flashed him a loving smile and mouthed Thank you. He rolled his eyes again, playfully this time, and quirked his mouth up in an amused grin.

Live music picked up as soon as Tony took his seat, soft jazz that blended well with the onslaught of muffled chatter and clinks of silverware against glass plates. Servers incrementally brought out the main course of roasted beef filet dressed in tomato tarragon sauce and a side of arugula salad. Peter stifled a chuckle as he heard your stomach growl when a server placed the plate of food in front of you.

As another server leaned in to pour you a glass of wine, you held out a hand and gave him a polite smile. “No, thank you. May I just have some water, please?”

The young man nodded, but Peter piped up before he could head off. “Got anything stronger back there? Bacardi? Whiskey? Rum?”

“We have Vodka, sir,” the server stuttered out.

“Excellent. I’ll take a whole bottle of that,” Peter grinned and pressed a couple of $100 bills into the man’s palm. Peter’s effect on people never got tiring to witness. He and the server appear to be around the same age, somewhere near the 25-year mark, yet Peter's vibe reduced the server to stutters. You’d say the tux assisted with his air of importance, but you’ve seen Peter have that same effect on businessmen while wearing a shirt that read “I lost an electron. Are you positive?” and plaid pajama bottoms.

The server vigorously nodded. “Right away, sir.”

“Don’t drink too much,” you cautioned in a tone low enough for only Peter’s ears. “You know how you get, and I don’t want Tony to have an excuse to place cuffs on you.”

Peter scoffed and mumbled around a bite of salad, “If I looked at him wrong, Tony would cuff me.”

“Now that’s a little presumptuous, ain’t it, Petey?”

You jumped up from your seat and wrapped Tony up in a hug he warmly returned. “Congratulations! I’m so proud of you, Governor Stark.”

Tony waved a hand, yet a big smile remained plastered on his face. “Ah, come on. It was bound to happen. Policy is the new name of the game, but I’ll sure miss that courtroom. You missy, on the other hand, deserve all the praise in the world. Best and youngest attorney in the whole state. Mentored by yours truly.” He trailed off, glancing in Peter’s general direction. “Though I question why you waste your talents on the likes of him.”

Now sitting ramrod straight in his chair, Peter slanted his eyes toward yours as you silently pleaded with him to be cordial. Once he brought his eyes back to Tony, he jerked up his chin in recognition. “Stark.”

Tony nodded at Peter. “Baby-faced Criminal.”

“Hey, now!” Pepper swooped in, pulling Tony back a little so she could see you better. “Just look at you! Always a beauty in everything you wear,” she gushed, then put on a stern face for Tony and Peter. “No roughhousing, tonight, boys. I mean it.”

“I was just making a valid critique on my star pupil's decision to become the Personal Attorney to a well-known arms dealer, is all,” Tony defended. He threw up his hands and drew up an innocent expression that might have worked had it not looked so derisive.

Pepper, pursing her lips, nodded sagely. “Right. Okay. So you were being an ass?”

“Pep!” Tony protested incredulously. Peter didn’t even try to hide his triumphant smirk.

You rolled your eyes in defeat. Oil and water can never mix, no matter how hard you try. No, Tony did not take the news of you becoming Peter’s PA well, and he’s made sure to rake you over the coals bout it every time the chance arises. You’ve been Peter’s attorney coming up on two years, and there’s not a sign from either of them that the grudge will ever be let go, not even for your sake, though they do try when threatened.

“I want you two to say something nice to each other and then let the rest of the night go on in peace. Go ahead,” Pepper ordered, indicating for Tony to go first.

Tony took in an excessive amount of air, then puffed it out. “Alright, Parker. Um… I like how you ostensibly don’t know the rules to a Black Tie Event.” He ended with a gesture to Peter’s lack of a bowtie. The poor thing lies in a mangled heap on the floor of the limousine.

Peter ticked up his eyebrow. “I like how the stick up your ass seems to reach new heights every time we speak, Stark.”

Pepper sighed and grabbed Tony’s arm. “Not exactly what I had in mind, but I’ll take what I can get. Come on, you. There are many more guests to greet.” She tugged him along, throwing you an apologetic smile over her slim shoulder as they walked away.

Almost out of earshot, you could hear Tony say, “He calls himself Deus, for Christ's sake!”

They left you two in heated silence. Peter refused to meet your glare, instead choosing to chug down the freshly set out champagne flute filled with Vodka. He immediately flushed as he poured himself another glass full.

“Peter—” you started.

“Don’t say it. I tried, alright?” He slumped against the back of his seat, then shot you a surly frown. “You didn’t even mention our engagement to him. Again.”

You looked down at your untouched food, suddenly not hungry.

Peter’s eyes narrowed. “Were you ever going to tell him?”

An anchor of guilt plummeted to the pit of your stomach, chasing away the desire to eat anything for the next few hours. Your answer came out sounding whittled and nearly swallowed by the music. “Pepper knows.”

“And that tells me all I need to know,” said Peter, pushing away from the table and taking the bottle of Vodka with him.

You tried to stamp down the rise of startled panic by clearing your throat and evenly asking, “Where are you going?” A high octave managed to slip in on the last word.

“To socialize. Play some cards. Place a few bets. Criminal stuff. You want in?” He didn’t wait for you to answer, moving further and further away as a wave of hot anger replaced your shame. “Oh, my bad. Sorry. I forgot you probably don’t want your mentor seeing you ruin your perfect image with, what was it? The likes of me?”

He swaggered off, not a mere hint of his hurt evident in his show of arrogance.

You gingerly sat back in your seat, careful to ignore the inquiring stares from those who caught most of the argument. Your nails came close to puncturing your palms, and if your jaw clamped any tighter, it would snap. An annoying, persistent inner voice chimed out, He’s right, you know. It was probably Ned.

You understood Peter enough to know that Tony not being clued in on your engagement wounded him. He told everyone in his life about you—told Aunt May the second you finally agreed to go on that first date with him, nearly shouted to all the rooftops in Queens “SHE SAID YES!” when he proposed three months ago. Yet here you are, dragging your heels on telling Tony, one of the most influential people in your life, that you’re marrying the love of your life. He wouldn’t understand. Or, rather, he would, and he’d abhor your decision.

You’re not sure you could ever explain to Tony how Peter is your favorite star in the night sky. A big, glowing ball of light you spend hours upon hours admiring and appreciating. One that just burns brighter than all the rest.

Your engagement ring sparkled at you, winking as you moved it side to side and marveled at the simple yet elegant details of the inlaid sapphires and diamonds. Peter told you he picked it out a week before the proposal, but you knew he carried it around in his pocket for months, biding his time, waiting for the perfect opportunity. When he asked, you couldn’t say yes fast enough. At that moment, Tony and his aversion to Peter never crossed your mind, but it’s lingered ever since.

Guilt returned as a salve for your anger.

“Trouble in paradise?” asked a woman sitting at your table, a slight accent in her voice. She appears to be young, almost too young to be at this function. The glimmer in her eye and the hitch in her smile denoted a wise person. Goddess braids sat on top of her head like a crown, and she’s wearing a simple black dress with pearl studs that nicely accentuates her dark brown skin.

You uncurled your hands and blew out a held-in breath, kindly smiling back. “Something like that.”

She held out a hand. “Shuri Udaku.”

That name came with an inkling of recognition, but you couldn’t quite place it. You shook hands with the young woman, giving her your name. When you momentarily looked at your clasped hands, your eyes dropped down to catch the jewelry on her wrist. They weren’t pearls like her earrings. They were onyx and emblazoned with ivory symbols on each bead: Kimoyo beads, a technological revolution currently sweeping the nation, manufactured only by one woman. The realization hit you hard. “Hold on a second. The Shuri Udaku? Founder of Vibranium Tech, Shuri Udaku?”

“The one and only,” she answered, her smile growing wider.

This confirmation launched you into a field of questions and acknowledgments. It turns out she knows of your work as New York’s youngest attorney, but you know a bit more about her line of work because Peter always voiced his interest in her growing business. On the surface, Vibranium Tech is like any other technology company, issuing out new and improved ways of communication and medical treatment. In the underground, there’s been rumors of her interest in creating weapons—technological weapons unlike any the arms dealing business has seen before.

You didn’t want to bring up that facet of knowledge just yet. The normal conversation worked wonders on you, loosening your tense muscles and clamped jaw, all of them singing sweet relief once your body naturally released the tension.

“So, did I hear Tony correctly when he said your partner is the Deus?”

You winced and found yourself searching the room for a glimpse of your fiancé. He’s commandeered a table in the back of the venue, showing off his black and gold deck of playing cards to a group of interested guests itching to play a hand.

“Yeah, that would be him.”

“That’s so badass,” Shuri mused, leaning in conspiratorially. “Is he like the mob bosses in TV shows and movies? Like does he have henchmen? Bad-temper? High-speed car chases with the police?”

You genuinely laughed. “Not exactly. Henchmen, kind of. Bad temper is rare. And he’d never shut up about having a high-speed car chase with the police. No, he’s a little more lowkey than all that.”

Long ago, back when you were innocent to the life Peter led, you assumed that that’s precisely what it entailed—an exhilarating life of high stakes, exorbitant amounts of money, strong-armed goons, and reckless shoot-outs. That might be the case for a few bosses, but not Peter. He’s too strategic, and the ins-and-outs of his trade are too complicated to pin on just one person.

“Well, I, um…” she stopped, considered her words. You unconsciously drew in closer. “I may have a business offer for him.”

You kept your smile on, but it felt more commercial-like than friendly. “What type of offer?”

Shuri gulped down a generous amount of her red wine, then darted her eyes side to side before speaking lowly. “Would he be interested in high powered weapons?”

You raised your eyebrows but kept up your cool front. “Depends. In exchange for what?”

“Protection.”

A voice in your ear announced, “He’s here.”

You ignored it, focusing on Shuri. “From who?”

Shuri peeked around again to make sure no one paid any attention to your private conversation, but her examination stopped at the entrance. “From him.”

You cautiously slid your eyes to the main entrance, heart hammering a thunderous rhythm in your chest.

Brock Rumlow. Peter's rival and leader of a group named the Scorpions. A peddler/enforcer for the East Coast's largest mob: Hydra. Of course he’d try to pressure Shuri for the weapons.

He didn’t come dressed according to the occasion, opting for his usual tight-fitted black Tee and gray tactical pants. The visible half of his tattoo, a scorpion’s tail curling out from the cuff of his shirt, stood out against his tan skin. Two other men stood behind him, wearing almost identical clothes to Rumlow and sporting the same scorpion tattoo on their right bicep, not exactly hiding that they carried concealed weapons. All the voices in the room hollowed out to stiff silence, and even the band took its cue to halt. Your eyes found Tony in time to see his jaw tick for the briefest moment, and then he slid right back into a restrained version of his good cheer.

“Hey, hey! This is still a party, people,” Tony called out, addressing the guests. “Eat, talk, have a good time.” He signaled to the band to pick up the music, then crossed the room to chat with Rumlow. You’ve never seen him so keyed up.

You touched Shuri’s hand comfortingly, not taking your eyes off Rumlow. “I’ll see what I can do.”

She deflated gratefully. “Thank you.”

You nodded, already out of your seat and rushing to the back of the room, stopping short once you arrived at Peter’s table. He’s thoroughly invested in this round of poker, glancing back and forth from his cards to the nervous twitches of the five men and one woman at the table. You recognized four of them: Judge Nicholas Fury, Lieutenant Steve Rogers, Manhattan’s Chief of Police Sam Wilson, and District Attorney Natasha Romanoff. Sweat is perspiring on Steve’s forehead, Sam’s leg can’t stop bouncing up and down, and even Natasha, a woman known for keeping her cool while in the line of fire, is chewing on her lower lip. Fury's not fazed. He just seems tapped out.

From what you can estimate, about six hundred dollars lies in the middle of the table.

Sam and Steve speak at the same time. “I’m out.”

The other men followed suit, muttering their defeat. Fury dropped his cards down on the table facedown.

Peter wickedly grinned, zeroing in on Natasha. “Got any last words?”

Natasha squinted her eyes at his taunt. “Kiss my ass, Parker.” She put her cards down face up, showing her hand, and quirked up an eyebrow that dared him to top that: three Queens and a pair of twos. Full House.

Peter laid down his hand. Four 3’s and an ace. Four of a Kind.

A chorus of fucks circled the group as Peter cleared the table of the crumpled bills. Two new bottles of opened Vodka sit on the table as well, along with seven shot-glasses. Steve’s glass remains untouched, but the others look like they’ve drained two shots each.

“Bucky’s gonna kill me for losing so much money,” Steve muttered, twirling around his wedding band.

Sam sadly shook his head. “Dammit, man. I thought we had him this time, too.” He eyed Peter with suspicion. “What you got, kid? X-Ray vision?”

Peter ran a hand through his hair, causing a few curls to escape its sleek style. “Nah, jus’ luck.”

“Yeah, well, here’s to hoping your luck runs out,” said Fury, raising his shot glass and slamming it back.

You inched closer to Peter’s side. He reeked of alcohol, and his eyes are glazed over. You wonder how he’s even capable of sitting up, let alone playing people out of their money.

“Peter,” you whispered, putting your hand on his shoulder. His muscles tensed, but he didn’t shake you off. “Rumlow’s here.”

The remaining people at the table began to disperse in a collective gripe of loss. Peter didn’t say anything, only jerked his head in acknowledgment.

Your hand itched to slap him back into reality. “Peter, baby, listen. I’m sorry. I’m so, so, so sorry. I should have told Tony about our engagement.” Desperation sapped into your words. “It was stupid and childish not to, and as soon as I get the chance, I’ll tell him. But for the love of God, this is not the time to—”

“Well, well, well! Look who we got here! Deus, in the flesh!” boomed a disturbingly baritone voice. Rumlow, shadowed by his two men, plopped down in one of the empty chairs, sitting right across from Peter. He glanced at Peter first, then languorously landed his gaze on you. “And who’s this pretty lady you got here?”

“My fiancée,” answered Peter monotonously. He said it as if the words synonymously meant: just some chick. A dull kind of ache slashed through your chest as you dropped your hand back down to your side and took two steps away from him.

Rumlow pretended to miss the interaction, appearing to be in deep thought, and then clapped his hands once. “Oh! The attorney. I don’t believe I ever formally introduced myself.” He offered his large hand to you, grinning with his whole teeth on display. “Name’s Brock Rumlow.”

You reluctantly let him take your outstretched hand. His skin is blazing hot, to the point where your hand nearly felt suffocated. He brought it to his lips for a small kiss that twisted your stomach in knots. “Nice to meet you, Mr. Rumlow.”

Rumlow winked. “Pleasure’s all mine, sweetheart. And call me Brock.”

“Fuck do you want, Rumlow?” Peter bit out, picking the cards up off the table and shuffling them.

“Ooh,” tsked Rumlow. He made sure to lay another grin on you just to irk Peter. “Come on, Parker. Can’t a guy just enjoy some company once in a while? It’s not like I’m doing anything wrong.” He watched Peter’s movements, the cards haphazardly sliding back and forth from one hand to the next. “Playing cards, huh? You up for a quick game?”

You butt in with a pressed laugh. “Actually, we were just leaving.” Drunk Peter is overly confident. If Rumlow found that out, you knew he’d take Peter for everything he’s worth.

“So soon?” Rumlow glanced down at his watch. “It’s not even ten yet. What’s the rush?”

Peter cut you off. “No rush. I’m staying. You play Draw Poker?”

“ ‘Course I play Draw Poker, but that seems too simple for you, Parker. Don’t you wanna make it hard for me? A little Texas Hold ’em?”

“Draw Poker,” said Peter, splitting the deck against the table and flexing the cards enough to have them rapidly collapse into place. “Take it or leave it.”

A dark, mischievous smile brewed on Rumlow’s face as he watched Peter fumble with the deck and, at some point, entirely losing his grip. You discreetly watched him size up his opponent, dismayed to find that he likes the assessment. Hair is stubbornly falling into Peter’s eyes, eyes that anyone a mile away could point out are bleary and bloodshot. The flush from earlier deepened on his neck and flashed scarlet across his face—an easy target for a skilled player.

“Deal me in.”

The first game played out exactly as you feared it would. Rumlow and Peter agreed on a $100 ante to get the ball rolling, both pulling out a single bill from their pocket and placing it in the middle of the table, then they settled for a pot-limit. Though Peter’s shuffling skills lacked his usual finesse, he expertly dealt each of them a hand of five cards.

You leaned against the back wall with your arms crossed over your chest and watched the game unfold. Rumlow processes his hands at the speed of a bullet, snapping his eyes to his cards once he’s drawn, and immediately discards the ones he doesn’t like when it’s his turn. Other than the minutest crinkle in the corner of his left eye, you couldn’t tell when he felt confident or when he bluffed. He gave nothing away, not even an involuntary scratch to his five o’clock shadow. He was so in the zone he began to partake in the Vodka bottle close to his side of the table, swigging straight from the mouth.

On the other hand, Peter moved as if a millisecond was the equivalent length of ten years, scanning his cards more than several times with pursed lips, looking up at Rumlow, scanning his cards again, once, twice, three times, then reluctantly discarding some. He frequently shoves a hand through his hair to keep it out of his eyesight, but the same unruly strands find their way back to impede his vision. He scratches the shell of his ear when he’s about to draw, and Rumlow’s picked up the tell.

Rumlow never even had to do more than call. The confident drunk in Peter always raised.

The pot increased to about $1400 before Peter folded his hand.

As Rumlow collected his winnings, he suggestively lifted his eyebrows at Peter. “Care for round 2?”

Confident drunk Peter never backs down, even when he’s the dumbass who can’t remember that he’s brought fists to a gunfight.

You step back up to the table and put a restrictive hand on Peter’s wrist to keep him from picking up the cards. “Enough, Peter. You’re done. Let’s go home.”

“No, I’m not done,” he said, snatching his arm away from your touch. “Go talk to Tony or somethin’. I’ve got this.”

Rumlow caught your bewildered stare and shrugged his broad shoulders, a gesture that didn’t match his cocky smile. He has Peter right where he wants him, and there’s nothing you can do to stop him because Peter is a willing participant running on alcohol and no critical judgment.

You should have left right then and there, but your feet stayed rooted to the floor. You couldn’t leave Peter like this. Sighing, you pulled up a chair to the table and sat beside Peter.

“Don’t worry. I’ll go easy on him,” said Rumlow, putting on a smile too sardonic to be comforting. Too artificial to be genuine.

His lie didn’t surprise you. The hole Peter dug himself did.

The second round went similarly to the first. Flash decisions from Rumlow and molasses-like contemplation from Peter. This time, though, the ante came up to $200. As far as you knew, Peter is only carrying about $2500 in his pockets.

By the time the fourth round started, Peter’s Rolex lies on the table. The ante is up to $1000. Somehow the pot-limit became no-limit.

By the fifth round, Peter made paperless bets. Ante is $10,000. Rumlow knew Peter’s pockets went deep, and he’d keep at it until he struck gold.

Nothing you said stopped him. Peter hadn’t won a single hand. He’s desperate for at least one good hand; he’s got something to prove.

Rumlow kept drinking with each win.

By the seventh round, a crowd is around the table, watching in horrified interest as Peter raises the bet to one million dollars. The most significant amount you’ve ever seen him bet. So far, he’s held this hand for three draws.

Peter’s hair lost all semblance of its previous style, hanging over his forehead in disarray. He’s hunched over in his chair, his jacket’s off, and he’s rolled up his dress shirt’s sleeves to his elbows. His group’s signature tattoo stands out stark against his inner wrist: a roughly sketched spider.

Rumlow, eyes now as bloodshot as Peter’s and face just as flushed under his tan skin, asks, “Think you got something, Parker?”

“Do you?” Peter countered.

“I just might.” Rumlow ran a finger against his bottom lip, then smiled at his hand. “Why don’t you say we make this last Showdown a little more interesting, eh?”

A terrible queasiness wrapped around your gut.

Peter listened intently, his silence Rumlow’s indication to continue.

“$10 million. And the best trading routes. Including foreign connections. I want everything you got.”

You turned to Peter, placing your hand on top of his until he finally looked at you. Your eyes begged him to listen to you for once tonight. “Please don’t do this.”

His reply sounded tortured. “But I can. I have to.”

“Is winning really worth losing everything?” you asked, your voice cracking.

Rumlow chuckled ominously. “Oh, that’s not everything, sweetheart. We both know what’s left.” He gave you a meaningful stare.

Your eyes widened in disgust.

Peter snapped his gaze to Rumlow. “She’s got nothing to do with this.”

“No, but I want her. Imagine having New York’s best attorney in my arsenal. How many charges has she saved your sorry ass from, Parker? Five? All felonies, right? You lucky son of a bitch.” Rumlow’s smile is sinister. “Not that lucky tonight, huh?”

Peter spoke through gritted teeth. “Back off, Rumlow.”

“To have Deus wrapped around her finger, she must be pretty damn good. Is she, Parker?” goaded Rumlow, ignoring Peter’s warning. “Is she any good?”

Instinct controlled your hands as they seized Peter’s cards before he launched himself over the table and landed an ear-splitting blow to Rumlow’s jaw. Rumlow must’ve known the punch was coming. Still, he hadn’t expected the impact to be that forceful because his eyes blinked in astonishment. The two men behind Rumlow didn’t react fast enough, missing Peter as he stood above Rumlow, grabbed the handgun hidden in the waist of his pants and pressed the muzzle deep into Rumlow’s temple, finger on the trigger.

Rumlow shifted his eyes up to Peter. “Did I hit a nerve?”

Peter’s voice is lethally calm. “Say one more goddamn word about her and you’re dead.”

“Put that gun down, Parker!”

Tony. Shit.

Peter squared his jaw, never taking his eyes off of Rumlow. About six off-duty policemen and the venue’s guards have their weapons trained on Peter.

“I said put the gun down! Now!” Tony had pushed his way through the crowd, Sam and Steve right behind him. You didn’t notice until now how quiet the room became, everyone holding in a collective breath.

“Put it down, son,” Steve gently ordered. He spied Rumlow’s men, their hands tightened on their guns, and shook his head. “Don’t even think about it.”

Peter didn’t move a muscle. His chest rapidly rises and falls with each breath.

Sam, holding a pair of cuffs in his hand, tried getting through to him. “It’s over. Drop the gun, kid.”

A slow grin spread across Rumlow’s face.

“Peter,” you spoke softly.

His red-rimmed eyes met yours.

“Everything’s gonna be alright. Just put the gun down, okay? Please.”

Two heartbeats passed before his grip on the gun slackened, and he begrudgingly lowered his arm.

Steve and Sam seized on the opportunity. Steve disarmed Peter while Sam restrained Peter’s arms behind his back and tightened the cuffs around his wrists.

Rumlow massaged his injured jaw. “Guess that means I win, Parker.”

Sam yanked Peter back before he could charge at Rumlow. When Peter looked your way, he saw you still held his cards. “I’m still in play.”

“Wait,” you protested. Sam began to guide Peter up to the entrance. “Peter, I can’t—”

He nodded his head furiously, talking over his shoulder as Sam lead him away. “Yes, you can. You know you can, baby. Play the hand.”

You stared helplessly at Peter’s retreating form. It was all on you.

Rumlow watched, unperturbed; his cards still held tight in the hand that wasn’t nursing his jaw.

Slowly, you lowered yourself down into Peter’s chair, sitting directly across from Rumlow’s smirking face. Tony stared at you incredulously. It’s the first time you’ve ever seen him rendered speechless. The room’s chatter never recovered, either. All eyes stay glued towards the standoff.

The game is in your hands. Exactly as planned.

[starbuckie]

𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐭, 𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐰

challenge: 200 followers challenge by @angrybirdcr

prompt: “there may have been a slight misunderstanding, but nothing we can’t fix.” and locked in the trunk of a car

pairing: bucky barnes x reader

words: 5,504 words

warnings: post-endgame, bucky’s kinda a dick, enemies to friends(?), swearing, angst, mentions of violence, talk about sexual assault, guns, bickering, jealousy

summary: bucky had been adjusting to the new familiarity of having a stable routine, right until she walked in.

a/n: I DON’T NOT OWN ANY CHARACTERS ALL CHARACTERS BELONG TO MARVEL. okay, great, done that, but congratulations on 200 followers!! i had so much fun taking part in your writing challenge, so thank you so much. imma be honest, there’s not a lot of romance in this, it’s some enemies to friends type of shit and i genuinely did not think this fic would get so angsty and dark and actually long, but i had an idea and ran with it mid way through the old fic with this prompt. also i had an idea for an epilogue to this, so tell me if you want that part 2 because i am on the verge of writing it. this is not proofread by a beta, but i edited it myself and hope it is okay. anyways, now that we’re done with that, please enjoy this rollercoaster of a fanfic i’ve written.

main masterlist || sebastian stan characters masterlist

Life in the twenty-first century was strange, Bucky concluded. Though he’d been free of HYDRA for around nine years technically, being a fugitive and in another realm didn’t give him much time to learn about the modern world. As soon as he came back, Steve had left him and he had to move on without his childhood best friend. It was hard for him to adjust to this century, with the new rules and the whole scene in general, but he seemed to make it through just fine. He’d come to peace with the fact that there was no escaping the fighting at all, falling into a steady routine that became his holy grail. 

In the new Avengers compound in Upstate New York he felt content and more sure of himself than he’d felt in a very long time. Everyone in the tower was quiet and kept to themselves mostly, still dealing with the aftermath of losing so much in so little time. But in that silence Bucky felt like a free man, able to walk around without fear of being hunted down every second and time to really look about this new world.

There were still times when he woke up in a sweaty panic, disoriented and terrified until he realized he was in the safety of his room in the compound. He’d flinch at loud noises in the quiet and his heart would stop, something that went by unnoticed by everyone else, though he didn’t blame them for it. Bucky felt extreme guilt for the horrible things he had done as the Winter Soldier, memories of bloodied and dead bodies, bodies he had made fall to the ground motionless. It wasn’t him, he knew, but his hand still had pulled the trigger. When he found something new a smile would split across his face, ready to tell Steve what he had discovered, until he remembered that the rambunctious blond boy was gone, a wrinkled grey man with a new family in his place. It still hurt him to think that he had left him so easily, with barely a goodbye. Bucky still had days where he felt so incredibly tired, left still on his bed as horrible thoughts ran through his mind, anxious about the future.

But then he found new things everyday, things that seemed to outweigh the bad by a whole lot. He’d found cool ranch Doritos were the best chips and that he really liked the season of fall with the leaves falling around him as he took a serene walk. He found that he really loved Frozen, the songs and Sven the reindeer making him crack a smile every time he watched it. He found that he could sleep in on his days without missions and Wanda liked her pancakes with an unhealthy amount of syrup on the side to dunk them in. He found that Sam was actually really funny, always making the worst puns or the dirtiest jokes at the most inappropriate of times. He found a new sense of respect and warmth in the family they’d built together, learning how to go on without those that they loved. He found that he was really enjoying his new routine and his new sense of peace with himself.

All until she walked in.

Bucky could still remember the exact moment she flipped their world upside down. Sharon had fawned over her, talking about one of her old SHIELD buddies who was finally coming back to the states. After the organization fell in 2014, Y/N L/N fled to Hawaii, running away to the one place she knew no one would find her. She was done fighting, or that’s what she believed until Thanos showed up. 

It was shameful, really, that Y/N was aware of all the problems that went on, yet did nothing to help. They needed her help, she knew they did, but she couldn’t bring yourself to go help her friends. Originally she was trying for a settled down life, planning to retire from the constant fighting, but after a few failed relationships Y/N realized that she wasn't cut out for that white picket fence life. Those had just been the dreams of a fourteen year old Y/N L/N, left empty and hollow by the horrors she had seen during her time at SHIELD. There was nothing left waiting for her, no family, no friends, but she was too stubborn to get back into the fight, so she stayed in her humid Oahu apartment and waited for something interesting to happen.

Well, maybe Y/N shouldn’t have wished so hard, that “interesting thing” showing up in the form of being snapped out of existence by a large, purple grape.

When she came back she felt nearly indifferent, knowing that five years had passed by her, and though Y/N felt nothing but emptiness she knew that it was time to go back. It was her duty when she had joined SHIELD to always be there and protect, and she had failed that job. But Y/N was more than ready to make up for it. Nothing like Thanos could ever happen again, so she called Sharon, one of her closest friends and previous commanding supervisor at the organization. She was ecstatic to have Y/N back, probably a bit too much, and before she could have second thoughts the girl was on a plane overlooking JFK, ready to land in New York.

So when Y/N walked in, with a tight-lipped smile and butterflies anxiously fluttering in her stomach, Bucky couldn’t help but despise her. Maybe he had formed his opinion off of Sharon’s explanation of her past, but Y/N got the life of settling down that he didn’t and he was infuriatingly jealous. 

“Hey, Bucky, Sam, come meet Y/N!” Sharon said excitedly. Her hair was put back in a headband neatly, two suitcases in hand as she looked at the two tall, muscular men. Of course Y/N recognized both of them, she hadn’t been living under a rock. Keeping up with the news of the Avengers and remaining SHIELD officers had been one of the only things keeping her from coming back, hearing of the terrible fights and destruction done to whole cities. She recognized Sam Wilson, the infamous Falcon being marked down as a “war criminal” in 2016. She never believed that crap, if he and half of the other Avengers were locked up there had to be a good reason behind it.

Then, there was James Buchanan Barnes. Now, she knew him from her eighth grade American history books, reading about the brave Howling Commando who had given up his life for saving the country, but Y/N knew him better as the Winter Soldier from her time at SHIELD. The fight in 2014 had been brutal, hectic in all forms, but she’d caught a few glances at the metal-armed man. He hadn't been in his normal state, with being controlled and tortured by HYDRA at the time, but the kid inside of her freaked out, remembering memories of gossiping with her friends about how hot he was in the textbooks and how much of a hero he was. That man was still in there somewhere, hidden by decades of reprogramming and mind-wiping, and Y/N was finally seeing him in the flesh. She would be working with him daily, living in the same space as him. The thought made her giddy like a middle schooler with her first crush,though his presence was intimidating as well.

“Hi there, I’m Y/N L/N, it’s a pleasure to be working with you.” Sticking out her hand, she gave a bright smile, already growing out of her nervous state. 

Sam quickly shook Y/N’s hand, giving a warm greeting in response to her introduction. Then she turned to Bucky. “It’s nice to meet you, Bucky.”

His cold, dead glare locked onto Y/N, staring straight through her soul. It felt like he could see every insecurity and guilty action she had, and she didn’t like it one bit. “That’s Sergeant Barnes to you.” Without another word, he walked out of the room like a petulant child, leaving Sharon, Sam, and Y/N flabbergasted. 

“I’m sorry, Y/N, he’s usually more friendly than that, I’ll go check in on him,” Sharon furiously said with a painfully fake smile. Sam grabbed the new girl by the arm, linking it with his own and led her in another direction as he explained the usual training routine and schedule for the week. 

And while she was completely enraptured by Sam’s comforting words and the exciting compound, her heart still felt heavy from Sergeant Barnes’ cold greeting. 

-

She had tried to be nice. She really had. But after two months it was pretty clear Sergeant Barnes wasn’t getting any better, and Y/N was beyond pissed off. Childish, is what he was being, fucking childish. 

It started off with leaving every room she came into, blatantly ignoring her presence. When she would say hello every morning he’d grunt or even worse, he wouldn’t answer her at all. Y/N had begged Sharon if she knew why the sergeant was acting up, but she didn’t know either and just asked her to ignore him and his “crappy, old-man behaviour”. Sam wasn’t very helpful to Y/N’s cause either, but he was a great mentor and an even better teacher.

Sharon was really the only person Y/N had in her phone, her parents dead and no boyfriend accounted for. The rest of her family had wanted nothing to do with her when she joined SHIELD, but that was okay with her. She knew what she had gotten herself into, and it was an extreme risk to even be acquaintances with her. But now, living with several others in a compound that seemed so large after the great loss, Y/N became part of their family as well. 

It was nice to have friends again, as years of solitude on an island where she knew nobody had made her nearly desperate for more human interaction than with the teenagers who worked the cash registers at the grocery store. Y/N became an integral part of the Avengers (she could actually say that aloud now), going on missions and kicking ass just like she used to. Of course, Sergeant Barnes’ behaviour in and out of missions stayed the same, but she usually tried her best to not take it to heart and move on. After all, she couldn’t have everyone like her.

But one day they both snapped.

Y/N was sitting with Sharon and Wanda, eating lunch and talking over their most recent mission with them and Barnes in Cairo. It hadn’t been a necessarily bad mission, per se, but she had run back into the building to get Wanda out from under a fallen pillar, which apparently was “severely dangerous”. Looking back, she could see how it was, putting her entire team’s secrecy and mission in volatile danger, but Wanda was like her sister and in Y/N’s heart she knew that she had to. Bucky had had to grab them both, nearly dragging her back to the jet before the building had collapsed. He’d been beyond angry with Y/N for the stupid decision, but when they landed he just huffed and stomped away. The redhead was grateful for her and so was Sharon, but lunch was just for a simple stern talking about mission protocols. 

“Y/N, I know that you’re a fantastic agent and even better friend, but when we’re on missions we need that agent. You can’t let your feelings and outside life get in the way of our objective.” Sharon said in a firm voice. Y/N dropped her head in her hands and rubbed her face tiredly.

“I know, Sharon, I’m sorry, Wanda could’ve probably gotten herself out but I just let my instincts act too fast and ran back in without another thought.” She groaned. “Plus, I just caused more damage than anything else. It won’t happen again, I promise.” Wanda and Sharon nodded in understanding just as the Asshole Supreme walked into the kitchen.

“You talking ‘bout how Y/N fucked up the mission yesterday?” Sergeant Barnes grunted. While Sharon and Wanda gasped in shock, Y/N’s eyes were trained at the plate on the table in front of her, not daring to make a sound. She muttered out a sorry and got up to put her dish in the sink. As long as he was here, he was going to make her life a living hell, and as much as she wanted to lash out, it would be cause for her dismissal from the team. While her old, solitary life was what she had once dreamed of, Y/N now saw her future among these people, this family, somewhere she finally felt a part of despite Barnes’ horrid behaviour. “Sorry?” He scoffed, “Sorry doesn’t make up for the fact that I had to run back in for you. Sorry doesn’t make up for the extreme risks we all pull to save your ass out in the field.”

“Bucky, stop.” Sharon yelled.

But he ignored her words and sauntered over to Y/N with a knowing smirk, leaning down to meet her level. His warm breath hit her face and she could stare into his deep eyes, swirling like a raging storm of blues and greys. “You shouldn’t even be out there, L/N. I mean, you haven’t had training in years, it’s not like you were anything special either. Just another agent, hoping to get to work in the big leagues.”

“Shut up.” Y/N whispered meekly. Tears were just barely being held in, her chest feeling empty and hollow with anger and guilt. Is this what it felt like to want to kill someone with so much vengeance? 

“Where were you when Thanos came? Where were you, L/N? We needed all the help we could get, but there you are, in fucking Hawaii, with you little fucking margaritas on the fucking beach-”

“Shut the fuck up!” She screamed. The room went dead silent with her voice. None of the team had seen Y/N look so angry, so sad, so vulnerable, at one time. It was easy for her to hide her emotions and Wanda refrained from trying to toy with her mind, but shame was overwhelming the girl by the second and Sergeant Barnes was right, as much as she didn’t want to say it. She was a coward, thinking she could run away from the “hero life” so easily. They’d caught her, and Barnes was making her face that truth right now. “Don’t you think I know that? Don’t you think I know, that I was absolutely scared shitless of returning here, facing all of you after what you endured for so long?” 

Y/N took a deep breath, laughing mirthlessly as tears ran hot down her cheeks. “I’m sorry that I came back, I really am, but I’m trying my damn best to make up for what I did. Being scared is no excuse for why I ran away, I was fucking terrified of having one more thing to lose. My family is dead, SHIELD fell, and I had no one to lean on so I ran as far as I fucking could. But I’m back now, I’m ready to serve up to what I left behind, and you better fucking deal with it because this,” she jabbed a finger into his broad chest, “is not fucking it. I’m not going to live with your shitty behaviour anymore, Barnes.”

He, Wanda, and Sharon all watched as she slammed the plate into the sink, storming out of the room. They could hear her door slam shut, and the two women glared at Bucky.

“What the hell is your problem, Barnes” Wanda hissed in a scarily low voice. Fuck. He knew he’d messed up then, gone farther than he ever dared to with insulting Y/N, and both of the women were severely overprotective of the new Avenger. 

Sharon walked up to Bucky with large strides, delivering a slap to the side of his head. Yeah, he definitely deserved that. It was dead silent in the kitchen, the tension still high strung from the fight seconds before. “You better go apologize, Barnes, I swear to God this has gotten far too out of hand. You two have a mission tomorrow, estimated a month, and wheels are up at 2300 hours. I need you two to go get the intel quietly and undetected and we can’t have both of you arguing the whole damn time, so you better fix things by then.”

The blonde agent walked away, Wanda trailing behind her, but not without the middle finger from both of them. A mission? Tomorrow? With Y/N? This was going to be horrible. Bucky ran a hand over his face and trudged off to his room. 

It was going to be a long month.

-

Y/N stared out of the window as they flew over the clouds above the Mediteranean Sea. Eleven in the morning in Italy gave a clear view of the skies, light blue as far as she could see. They were ready to start their descent into Azzano and the woman glanced to the man beside her, his stormy blue eyes glaring in any direction but hers. The sergeant had avoided her all he could up until they boarded the jet, and even then he only spoke to her when necessary. “Hey, Barnes, we’re starting to descend, go get ready.”

The brunette looked over to Y/N and grunted in response. Oh well, it was better than him yelling at her. His little outburst in the kitchen had her pissed at him more than ever, but the words thrown around still rung true in her head. But now wasn’t the time to think about that.

She paid careful attention to where she was supposed to land, a shaded facility almost five miles south of where they had to get the intel from an old, but rebuilt HYDRA base. The same base where James Buchanan Barnes was once held captive, experimented on and tortured until Steve Rogers came to save him. Y/N didn’t care much for Barnes usually, but she also didn’t know how he’d react to being in a location with such horrible memories attached to it. They had both been at the mission briefing the day before of course, he knew what it entailed and he seemed unfazed, and he was always good at hiding his emotions. As the jet touched down finally, the agent thought back. Well, sometimes he was good at hiding his emotions.

Making sure her comm fit snugly in her ear, Y/N unbuckled herself from the seat, heading back towards the wall of weaponry they kept in the back of the jet. Barnes was already there dressed in hs black kevlar tactical suit, hugging his body nicely and vibranium arm on display. When he was around her he tried to hide it, and she saw him joking around and being comfortable in other’s presence with it out, wondering what made her so different. She personally found it fascinating, the beauty of the gold and black metal with the incredible Wakandan technology, but she respected his privacy and tried to not think too much about it. 

Y/N threw a vest on over her own navy blue tac suit, tightening her combat boots before she fully zipped up. Were they finally ready?

Three guns perched in holsters by her waist.

Two taps to her earpiece and Barnes’ breathing in her ear.

One mutual nod with the sergeant himself, and they were off, slowly making their way to grab the intel, not a trace to be left behind. 

-

Getting stuck in the trunk of a car was not in the plan. It definitely wasn’t. Bucky remembered every single inch and cranny of that meticulously planned out schedule, every move, every kill they had to make, but not once was it mentioned that Y/N was to get stuck in Baron Zemo’s car without any weapons on her.

“L/N, what the hell do you mean you’re in the back of Zemo’s car.” He seethed, already searching frantically around the large remains of the building for her. It had gone smoothly, she was just supposed to quickly check inside his car as he searched the base. It’ll be so much quicker if I do it, L/N, is what he had said, but now he regretted it. Like the incompetent fool she was, she was spotted and ended up shooting out half of Zemo’s goonies before dropping all her weapons to the ground and running when she ran out of ammunition.

“There may have been a slight misunderstanding,” Y/N whispered into her comm, “but nothing we can’t fix! Just come find me, Barnes, and all will be well.”

She could hear his angry curses and jostling, which she assumed he was running to come find her. It wasn’t entirely Y/N’s fault she had run out of ammo. Some of it must have fallen from her pockets during the shootout and when she saw the car she thought it’d be the perfect place to hide. Until she realized that no one else was at the partially burned down HYDRA base besides Baron Zemo, the person who Sharon had told her to avoid at all costs, and she was in his damn car. Practically her death note.

“If you had just listened to me you wouldn’t have been caught!��� Bucky furiously whispered through the comms. 

Y/N rolled her eyes, though he couldn’t even see her, and groaned. “I did listen to you, Barnes, I checked the damn car, but we weren’t expecting his guards to find me so I killed them and hid. Is that actually so bad?” 

“Yes it is!’ He explained. “Give me your coordinates.” She checked the small watch on her wrist, pushing a button on the side that gave a small holographic image of the time and her coordinates on a world wide map. Reciting them for him, Bucky followed, continuing to berate her as he did so. “And you’re right, L/N, I asked you to check the car, not fucking jump inside it!”

This time Bucky could envision her rolling her eyes as she groaned even louder in very Y/N L/N fashion. “Would you rather I be dead?” She asked. It had been a few seconds, but she still received no response. “Barnes?” Crackling. “Sergeant?” Absolute nothingness. “Sarge?”

The trunk of the car opened as the woman let out a squeak, the broad frame of James Barnes hovering above her, some dirt smudged around the annoyed expression on his face. “Don’t call me that.” He grumbled.

He reached his hand towards her, grasping her own tightly before pulling her to a sitting position. “Why, you had all the ladies calling you that back in the day?” She mimicked a much higher tone, nearly resembling Snow White if the princess were high on drugs and had a Brooklyn accent. “Hey, Sarge, we goin’ dancing? Sarge, you goin’ to give me some sweet lovin’ tonight? Oh, how I’d just love for you to shove your fat, ugly head up your a-”

A loud beeping from his wristwatch cut her off. With a glare, the man let go of Y/N’s hand, checking to see what the problem was. A small red tracker on the map moved, and both of them knew they were in deep shit. “Crap, Zemo’s coming this way. That’s one of the trackers I set up on the ground and we gotta go quick.”

Faint whistling from Baron Zemo made both of them panic as Bucky tackled her back down and quickly shut the door behind him. Footsteps were approaching, the whistling getting louder and a door opening let the two Avengers know that they couldn’t get out anytime soon. Y/N could feel Bucky’s racing heart against her chest, hers beating just as fast. He turned to face her, a lot closer than both of them expected, lips dangerously close and noses nudging against each other. Ther breaths mixed together, the hot air of the car doing nothing to help her current close quarters with the man. 

“Can you bust us out of here?” She whispered hurriedly, rather uncomfortable with the present situation.

“We’ll die if we leave now. He’s much more prepared than we thought and with half his men down he knows something is up. Zemo wasn’t even supposed to know we were here so we’re far too unprepared and you lost your damn weapons. There’s no way we can go out so we’re going to stick in here until he gets out.”

Truth be told, Bucky was terrified and had no clue what to do next. Being stuck in a small confined space with Y/N had to be his worst nightmare, especially after he didn’t apologize for his shitty behavior last night. And the night before. 

And the several months before that.

From his view Y/N seemed to be uncomfortable and as the car started moving, she wiggled around, struggling to get as far away from Bucky as she could. He too was extremely uncomfortable, but as her wriggling continued, his already tight fitting pants seemed to get even impossible tighter as she practically grinded on him. 

“Would you stop squirming around?” Y/N shot him what would’ve been a questioning glance if not for the pitch blackness of the trunk, and heard his loud sigh, warm breath fanning across her face. “I’m sorry, I’m having a situation, uh, down there and your wiggling isn’t helping it too much.”

Her face heated up, not knowing what to feel after he said that. Was he… flustered? Y/N had never seen Bucky Barnes anything less than grumpy or professional before.

When she said nothing, he assumed the worst and thought she saw him as a disgusting and creepy person. Before that moment he’d never had any particular care about how Y/N felt, but he knew that there were still a lot of perverts, if not more perverts than back in his day. With his four little sisters always getting catcalled and the crude men who thought women were their property, Bucky knew it was definitely terrifying to be assaulted or any situation such as this. 

There wasn’t much he could do, but he shifted so they weren’t lying down hip bone to hip bone. “Sorry if I made you feel uncomfortable, I don’t want you to think I’m a pervert or anything, it’s just been a while since I, well, y’know…”

“I understand, Barnes, but thank you for apologizing.” Y/N said carefully. It was weird to hear the now shy and surprisingly considerate sergeant apologize to her, but she had to admit that her respect for him had gone up. 

He cleared his throat in return, trying to turn in any other direction besides hers as they listened to the tires of the car bumping along the road, heart wildly thumping. 

It was quiet. Far more quiet than it had ever been when either of them were in the same room. As Y/N stared down at Bucky’s head, almost resting on her stomach, she saw the man she’d read about in middle school. For a moment she was able to look past the last few months of fighting and hatred, and see the noble sergeant she’d admired for so long. 

“You can rest your head if you want to, I knew keeping it up like that must be hurting your neck. I promise I’m okay with it.” She reassured him. With a small hesitation, Barnes submitted to his screaming neck muscles and laid his head on her stomach, the vest providing cushion. A few more seconds of silence and gathering courage, and she finally asked him the question she had been wondering since her first day at the compound. “Why do you hate me?”

I’m jealous, he wanted to say, but he wasn’t brave enough to say it. With a small sigh, he managed to get out, “I don’t.”

“Then why are you so cold to me all the time?” Emotions that were borrowed so deep inside Y/N’s chest seemed to come barreling out, seeping into every question that she asked. “Am I really that horrible an agent? Do you not think I’m trying my best? I know I made a mistake, I wasn’t there when you all needed me, but I’m trying so, so damn hard to make up for it. I swear on my life, and every one that comes after it, that I’m-”

“It’s not you, it’s me, God damn it!” Bucky exclaimed angrily. Both of their blood ran cold in fear that Zemo might have heard them, but the radio continued to drone on in the background, nothing seeming to have changed. He took a deep sigh and tried how to best explain it to her. Even though he’d probably never have Y/N’s forgiveness for insulting her so plainly and hurting her so much, he felt as though she deserved as much as his reasoning as to why he “disliked” her so much. It was difficult for him to say, having to also put his pride away for once to just admit it. “I’m jealous of you, Y/N. You got the sweet life for a while, and that’s all I’ve ever wanted. When you look at us who remain, not a single one of us was planning to be an Avenger. You were getting the dream home, the kids, the family that I’ve wanted since I was a boy back in Brooklyn, and all you had to do to get it was run away. It was so simple.”

Y/N’s eyes widened, not at all expecting that. “It wasn’t all too much ‘sweet life’, you know? It was my dream when I was younger, I thought being an agent was temporary and then I’d move into a big, old house with a loving spouse and have millions of little carbon copies of myself to occupy my days. But the truth about what we do is that we can only stay away from it for so long, Barnes. With people like us,” she squeezed her eyes shut, letting the final tears roll down her cheeks, “there’s no running away from the hero's life. It's just who we are. We’ve already done too much to change that part of our lives.” 

Y/N felt him nod through the fabric on her skin, sniffles letting her know that he was crying too. They were connected. All the shouting, all the yelling, the pain, the battles, the fore, the blood, the years of torture, all led to this moment. This historic moment in Y/N and Bucky’s relationship where they both waved white flags, wet faces and hearts filled with sorrow for the life they never had. 

“I’m so sorry for the way I dealt with my anger and jealousy, Y/N.” Bucky croaked. 

“I used to idolize you when I was a kid.” Y/N recalled with a faint smile on her face. “In the eighth grade I wrote a history paper on you, Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes, American hero and inspiration to all. And you know, I always kinda had a crush on you. Wondered what it would be like if you were still alive, if you would’ve gone home after the war, if you would’ve had a family. No matter what wild thoughts ran through my head, though, you were always my hero.” Bucky took her confession in shock, pure amazement and surprise coursing through his body. Maybe a little bit of sadness, longing for that old life, maybe a bit of bashfulness of her having a crush on his as a schoolgirl. “And then I met you and you were this grumpy, irritable old man who seemed to despise me as soon as I walked in the door. Definitely not what I had expected.” He opened his mouth, ready to apologize again, when her next words cut him off. “I want to start over, don’t you?”

How was she so calming? Her words were exactly what he needed to hear and didn’t need to at the same time. Her voice brought back all the old memories of running around New York with Steve as a kid, reminding him of his wise ma in a way. “There’s nothing I’d like more than that, Y/N.”

Y/N smiled to herself, looking towards the top of the car. “Perfect.”

And with the twinkle in her eye and his head resting on her stomach with a small grin, it really was.