czeniah

[aviangrian]

Hi!! I just bingeread Starboy and I am soooo hooked. I'm not usually a sports AU person but the F1 content in the fic almost has me invested enough to look more into the real life stuff (I've only ever seen one race with my family, and caught on to some of the stuff they watch on TV). I love the adrenaline rush of the racing scenes and reading all about each teams' reactions to their placements and everything, it's all just so fun. I of course love the Scarian in it, how could I not, but I'm also just enamored by all the other teams and relationships too, it's really interesting to see the balance between "competitor/enemy that could cost me my career" and "close friends that go clubbing and help me out during tough times" and the way all of the characters deal with it. And it's always great to see more of the "Scar fell first, Grian fell harder" storyline! I love a good Scar-centric fic that touches on his goals and life outside of Grian as well! It's just been such a a blast so far and I'm really excited to see where it goes from here, I can already tell I'll miss this world and these guys a lot once it ends. Much love to you, author, thank you for a wonderful story!

first off i wanna say thank you for giving the fic a chance! i have a whole tag on here for sports haha so i love it and i love seeing people who don’t typically like these kinds of aus reading my story! and enjoying it!! :D

one of the funnest parts of planning out this au was doing all the teams and dynamics. grian and scar cross a very dangerous line of “you drive for my biggest rival” and “i wanna kiss you 24/7”, but they aren’t the only ones lol. jimmy’s also crossed that line 1000 times w not just one person, but TWO haha. it’s fun having everyone w their own unique relationships w each other, even where grian and scar aren’t concerned!

my biggest gripe w romance novels lately have been the mcs not having any sort of personality outside of their relationships so i refused to let that be this fic lol. grian’s gunning for that world championship and scar wants to be the very best like no one ever was! they have lots of goals and ambitions outside of each other!

thank you for the ask! seriously it’s so nice and i love getting them. i also think about the last 3 chapters remaining and it makes me sad too :(

[roenters]

Thirteen reasons why is a cinematic masterpiece.

**SPOILERS BTW FOR THE ENDING OF THE SHOW AND STUFF SO BASICALLY IF YOU HAVEN'T WATCHED IT MAYBE DONT READ**

Thirteen reasons why is a show that knew exactly what it was doing. Sure, it might've taken me a couple years to get around to watching the last two episodes but I've crossed that line now and I think it's safe to say that I thoroughly love this show with my whole heart.

From the get to they do not shy away from harsh, cruel and upsetting topics that for many people: that is their life. The entire show is about all these devastating experiences and how the characters, how these kids/young adults will deal with the situation presented to them. They look at real responses, real issues. The events happen to the characters, the characters aren't just slotted in. There are real, damaging and lasting consequences. As we see in the finale, the horrific events of season one have continued to carry through the entire story. That central point of what started it all. And it was twisted into a good outcome.

The last episode contains Justin's death. I'll admit, I was having a full on breakdown. That shows you how well they get you emotionally connected to these characters. They make you feel as if they're real people because of how relatable they are and it's not the same sort of relatable as 'haha yeah they like the same things I do'. No. It's: they went through a severely traumatic thing and now they've got depression. They're currently dealing with events bigger than themselves and don't know how to cope. And the show explores that in a way that encapsulates the raw emotions people experience when these things happen. And yet, by the end, they'd managed to show the characters graduating. Living life. Surviving. And the end didn't leave you in tears. Instead you saw two friends connecting with each other again. Rekindling their love that had dimmed due to the events, unable to truly be free from the disasters that plagued their minds and emotions. They could just: be. With no worries that we're too big for them. Able to just be together.

It's unlike TV shows nowadays. There's nothing else really like it. Netflix did not cancel it after the first season (long live Dead Boy Detectives) and they most certainly didn't force the creators to shy away from the topics they wanted to involve. That's the nature of the show. It couldn't be done unless Netflix gave it the time and energy it deserved. The episodes are lengthy. The last episode is at least an hour and a half! But that's exactly the time it needed to take the audience through a fulfilling and satisfying ending. No stone unturned, no plotlines left unfinished. We don't see that a lot these days. They also didn't make it run on for too long - neatly wrapping it up and piecing their puzzle together until they had a full picture.

Additionally, I'd like to add a big part of the show is the amazing diversity they showcase and it is integral to how we percieve the characters. I'm not talking race, or sexuality, (although that is very diverse itself) I'm talking about the character's backgrounds. Some come from rich families, some come from poor families, some are close with their parents while others are pushed away and hurt by them. Things like a good security net and positive influences heavily impact a person and that is clearly shown in the show by making characters vastly different and using their backgrounds to show this. We also look at their own personal struggles and how they make characters individual, shaping them into who they are. How they find help, support or lackthereof and what they do as a result of that. It leaves us with a set of very well developed people who will each want to react differently to the situations presented in the show and many, many strong personalities. Each varying and unique.

I could not recommend this show enough. Of course, it's sad. That's because it's real and isn't scared of digging into the truth. But, at its core, you develop relationships to the characters on the screen, caring for them and relating as you watch them tackle the story one step at a time. They become a flurry of emotion and love and hate and actions and impulse and connections and thought and beliefs. They become people. And I think that is a very special thing.

(However, I will admit I didn't really like Ani in season three but- I digress.)

[misterewrites]

Intro to Jaime 101 and a Half

Hey everyone! E here hoping you are all good. It's time for a new chapter of Mirror's Edge! Haha been a while huh? I was actually writing a mini arc for welcome to an Underground cuz it felt right you know? Better to get all that put together and squared away. And now that that's done, here we are.

Umm the next thing I write will either be another's Mirror's Edge chapter, the last intro chapter before I get into actual story arcs or maybe some fandom stuff I haven't decided. 

Anyway, I hope you are all safe, sound, keeping your loved ones safe too, wear a mask, wash your hands, vaccinate yourself if you can, push to release the vaccines world wide and be careful. Have an amazing week and see you soon with a new chapter and or story! feel free to leave likes, reblog, comments and recommend this to your friends! I appreciate it, enjoy!!

Here’s the chapter over at a03 if you wanted have an easier time reading cuz tumblr hates me!

https://archiveofourown.org/works/30599756/chapters/80953405

Here’s the story from the beginning if you’re curious what’s it all about

https://archiveofourown.org/works/30599756/chapters/75486005

And here’s a link to all my stories 

https://archiveofourown.org/users/MrE42/pseuds/MrE42

Summary:  Jaime, adoptive sister of Finnrick and fiancée of Casey, is late to work. The Grimoire, magical library and hub of all knowledges is her workplace and she has thrown herself into it completely for whatever reason. Still with Casey lingering on her mind, she can't help but feel torn between her love of books and the love of her life.

-----

As Jaime hurried away from Willow’s Rook and Casey, she couldn’t help but feel disappointed in herself. She told herself under no circumstances she would see her fiancée but one glance towards his office and Jaime was knocking on his door without a second thought. A ten minute conversation later and now she was late to work.

She sighed, glancing downward towards the engagement ring snugly wrapped around her finger.

Jaime’s heart raced beyond her control as her fingers tingled with the warmth Casey’s cheek. She could still feel the pulsing of their hearts beating in time with one another, love and longing palpable in that moment.

“Jaime, why do you do this to yourself?” she murmured sadly “You said don’t see him. You said don’t visit him. You said you could handle this whole break and now we’re late.”

Jaime picked up her pace, power walking in hopes somehow that could shave off the seconds she desperately needed to avoid being reprimanded: The Grimoire may have been a library but it had a strict late policy both on books and personal.

-----

The Grimoire was as elegant as it was ancient: The library was one of the oldest buildings in Newton Haven, constructed when the city was little more than a mile of stacked bricks among swampland. Faded red stone archways and columns did nothing to belittle the power and importance of the Grimoire. Even the mundane folk could feel the magical force that radiated from within, a fantastic world beyond the threshold.

Of course there was a fantastic world hidden inside: The library was one of the major hubs for the magical community and it wasn’t uncommon to see various races searching the many bookshelves for whatever subject tickled their fancy.

The interior was elegant and timeless: The walls and floors were soothing shades of brown with furniture pulled from all eras of human history. Three stories of endless knowledge about countless subjects. Translucent spirits hurried back and forth, humming happily in death as they did in life while they performed their duties to the Grimoire. In the center, amid the hustle and bustle, stood a spiraling staircase that disappeared beyond the ceiling to the Librarian’s office.

There, just past the entrance and to the side, was a security desk with a figure lazily sitting upon it: He was humanoid, muscular and impossibly large, easily seven feet tall. His skin was gray as storm clouds and his eyes shone with an electric blue shade. His hair and beard were frosted white like he dove face first into snow. His uniform consisted of a dark blue buttoned up collared shirt that was one flex from tearing in two and old rugged jeans. His black combat boots were immaculately cleaned as he placed them on the surface of the desk.

He clicked his tongue as he slowly turned the page on the latest romance novel he had been enthralled by.

“Sinclair, you’re late.” He spoke softly but even a whisper couldn’t stop his voice from reverberating throughout the hall.

Passerby’s shot confused glances at one another but no one stopped at Dusty’s declaration

The storm giant sighed, rubbing his eyes tiredly “Sinclair, you’re not fooling anyone.”

Silence and more quizzical glances.

Dusty shook his head, disappointed as he snapped his finger.

The air smelled of fresh rain while a source-less thunder boomed overhead. Nearby, a person, previously invisible, flickered into existence. Their previously camouflaged self changed into a rainbow of colorful hues before bursting into a flurry of sea green sparks and revealing a sheepish Jaime, her hands raised in defeat.

“Sinclair.” Dusty’s voice was dry yet amused.

Jaime clasped her hands together as she made her way over to the storm giant’s desk “Dusty! I...”

“Am late.” he finished for her, a gentle chuckle escaping his throat “Remington again?”

“Whaaaaaa?” Jaime’s face scrunched into a false sense of surprise “No, no. Come on. Me and Casey are….well you see…..it’s frankly none of your business.”

Dusty nodded wisely “True. It is none of my business. Go on before I sic the ghosts on you.”

Jaime gave a quick curtsy before running as quickly as she could. Dusty rolled his eyes before returning to his romance novel he was previously captivated with.

-----

Everyone who worked in the Grimoire had their own personal office tucked away somewhere to ensure privacy for personal studies. Jaime’s office was in the back of the library, hidden behind the alchemy section. It was one of the wider offices, more akin to a school class room. True to her wizard background, it was messy: Piles of folders, books left open and hastily scribbled papers were sprawled about. A fairly sized cauldron sat ontop of her desk, currently not in use. Sticky notes littered randomly across the walls. And like any true wizard, a magical circle was engraved directly into the center of the room for varying purposes.

Despite the appearance of her lair, she was actually one of the more organized of wizards. Even her prodigal brother Finn’s lair wasn’t as well maintained and cataloged as her. Though, to be fair, she did have help most wizards didn’t.

Jaime placed her bag by the door, eyes searching about for her helper.

“Bartholomew! Bartholomew Ringtail, you here?”

A moment past before the sound of rustling papers and scuttling paws could be heard. Jaime reached into her pack and pulled out a bag of popcorn just in time for Bartholomew reach out for the treat.

Bartholomew Ringtail, like his name suggested, was raccoon. Light gray fur, little black mask over his snout and tiny adorable paws. However, unlike most of his kind, wore a small cap upon his head and that made him cuter than the average raccoon.

Well that and the fact he was magical.

While her brother was a master practitioner of powerful protective wizardry, Jaime’s skills lay elsewhere as a conjurer. Her strength came in summoning powerful familiars to further her goals.

Normally a wizard would have to spend time preparing the ritual, collecting the materials related to whatever being they were trying to bring onto this plane. Demons, angels, fey, constructs of strange and alien machinery from beyond human understanding. Anything could be summoned if you had the proper knowledge and power.

Normally such rituals would take hours if not days to perform: Time to gather magical energies, to search the planes of reality for your being of choice and of course drag it kicking and screaming to you. Also summons were temporary as beings not native to the plane could only be sustained by whatever magic brought them. Much like a timer, the magic would slowly fade and once empty any being summoned are forcibly returned from whence they came.

Jaime was much faster and more persuasive in her summoning spell casting. She could do it in a matter of minutes as opposed to days though it still required a massive amount of magical energy, Unlike other wizards, conjurer summons did not decay over time. Whatever they brought into this world stayed in this world unlike magic could no longer maintain their form, usually from being attacked over and over.

Bartholomew was one such creature. In fact Bartholomew was Jaime’s first summon back when she was a fledgling wizard being trained by her brother. She wasn’t hundred percent where exactly he came from but she was grateful for her longtime companion and friend.

Bartholomew popped open the popcorn bag and hurriedly began to stuff handful of the tasty snack into his waiting maw.

Jaime smiled brightly before glancing about room, quietly complementing which project to continue.

A wizard’s magic was as much studying as it was practice.

Finnrick once described the difference between wizards and other casters as using a phonebook. The others were given a phonebook by some higher power. The numbers were already written down and set. However, they could only use those numbers and each different caster had different numbers for different purposes.

Wizards, on the other hand, no such phonebook. They have work hard, study and call each number to understand what the number did. Aside from being tutored by other wizards or spellbooks or other sources of knowledge, the wizard must discovered and write down the numbers on their own, creating their own phone book. Of course that meant wizards weren’t as limited as the other casters and were free to discover a possible infinite amount of spells.

Jaime took a step forward when a voice called out to her.

“Hey sis!”

Jaime whirled around to find the smiling face of her brother Finnrick, fedora in one hand and a friendly wave in the other.

“FINNY!” Jaime cheered, racing forward and wrapping her brother in a tight hug.

Finnrick laughed before returning the gesture “Hey Jai, how you doing?”

“Good” Jaime broke away “Great even! I was just about to practice my spells. I’m still having trouble.”

“Sis.” Finnrick’s voice became firm “It’s visual as much as it is feeling.”

“I know, I know” Jaime shifted uneasily under his gaze “It’s just I usually just bring in heavy hitters, not be one.”

“Any wizard can stick to their strengths. Great wizards are well versed in all forms magic. Spar?”

Jaime gave a crooked smile “Loser buys lunch.”

“And dinner” he cockily added.

Jaime motioned to the circle but Finnrick was already on it. Clasping his hands, Finnrick murmured something too softly for her to hear then pushed his arms outward. A blue dome formed over the two, encasing them in a makeshift arena.

Jaime took her place opposite of her brother “Ready?”

“Sisters first.”

Jaime closed her eyes. She imagined a flame in the palm of her hand. She imagined the heat from the flame. She imagined how it shifted back and forth with a gentle breeze. She saw it clearly in her mind’s eye and then she willed it into reality

“Inferus!” Jaime shouted, her hands glowing with a sea green glow. The flame burst into existence, just as she created. She pulled her arm back and lobbed it with as much force as towards her brother.

Finnrick didn’t budge an inch while flame sailed his way. He rose his hand calmly and with a mighty swing, backhanded and sent the flame skittering across the floor.

Finnrick didn’t waste any time in his counter attack. His finger tips gleamed with blue magical energy and with a flick forward, unleashing a barrage of icicles.

Jaime outstretched her hand forward, sea green glyph forming in the air. A thin matching barrier appeared in front of her in time to catch the first of the icy attack but as the rest collided, cracks began to widen and spread with each successive blow.

“Don’t fight like me Jaime!” Finnrick scolded, sending another wave of icy daggers.

The barrier hadn’t lasted under the second barrage: The moment an icicle collided with her shield, it broke, scattering and fading out of existence.

Jaime, however, was prepared. She ducked and weaved under the attack, pivoting her heels like a graceful dancer while moving her way out of the line of fire.

Jaime twirled about, gathering the magic in her hands before sending outward. Long streams of flames began to swirl about like tendrils reaching for prey as she spun about.

Finnrick gestured at her with a finger gun and clicked his tongue, bringing down his thumb like a hammer of a gun. Jaime’s eyes widened with surprise as she felt some foreign entity began to shift and make her spell uneven. She tried to maintain it but Finnrick’s surge of magic was too much for her. The magic she held exploded, the flames vanishing as the force of the spell breaking sent her sprawling to the floor.

Finnrick was already on the move, arching his arm backwards before throwing forward a bolt of lightning.

Jaime sprung to her feet, leaning as far back as she could to narrowly avoid attack. The lightning bolt struck the dome but before she could react, it bounced and struck her directly from behind.

Luckily it was a training session and only gave a her a light shove forward. Jaime flapped about wildly before she manged to get her balance steady.

“Game, set and match!” Finnrick beamed with a grin.

Jaime rolled her eyes “Big surprise my genius brother won. The dome’s so small I barely had room to move!”

“Exactly!”

Jaime shot her brother suspicious glare.

Finnrick rose his hands “Hey, never let your opponent dictate the field of battle if you can manage it.”

“Yeah, I should’ve seen that coming” Jaime sighed.

Finnrick made his way over and wrapped his sister in a loving one armed hug “Remember sis, real life has no rules.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Jaime nudged Finnrick’s ribs playfully “Whatever you say cheater.”

Finnrick ruffled his sister’s hair playfully “Life lessons are important to share to your siblings. Need help with anything?”

“Oh you better be spending time with me. After that thrashing you gave me, you owe me big.”

Finnrick stood up straight, hand raised in a lax salute.

Jaime responded by poking his stomach.

“Oww, I give I give!” Finnrick chuckled “Why must you resort to violence?”

“Family upbringing I guess.”

The two siblings fell into a peaceful quiet as they began shifting and searching through Jaime’s notes.

“Jaime?”

“Hmm?”

“Question.”

“Answer.”

“Any word on the big move?”

Jaime stopped, her hands hovering over a book.

“No” Jaime murmured weakly “No word yet. They’re still debating I guess.”

“Mhm” Finnrick replied without much else.

Jaime turned to her brother “Finn, I…”

Finnrick rose a hand to stop her “It’s your life. Your choice. If this is what you want, then I will be happy for you.”

“But?” Jaime added in.

Finnrick pursed his lips, running his finger down the spine of a nearby book “I want you to be content as well. I know you…..I mean….you’re still wearing the ring.”

Jaime glance down to her engagement ring. She could still feel Casey’s warmth underneath her fingertips, his heart beating rapidly in time with hers.

“Think about it” Finnrick said with a hint of finality “Life’s too random to live with regrets.”

“So” Jaime cleared her throat, desperate to change the subject “Any news on your angel?”

Silence.

“Finn?”

She found him fidgeting with his fingers, his cheeks blazing a bright red as he averted his gaze.

“Finn! You found her?! And you didn't tell me?!”

Finnrick gave a shy nod, biting his lips nervous.

Jaime lunged at him, wrapping her arms tightly around him in a loving embrace “That’s great bro! When am I meeting her?”

Finnrick turned to her, unsure what she meant “What?”

“When am I meeting her” she repeated.

“Umm….why?”

“To interrogate her of course!”

“Jaime!”

“What? Just cause you like her doesn’t mean I do.”

“Jaime, don’t you dare!”

“Try and stop me!”

Finnrick dove for her but Jaime saw it coming a mile away. She pivoted on her toes, twirling out of the way of Finnrick’s attack. As her brother began to chase her around the office, Jaime quietly enjoyed this moment between siblings.

She was going to miss this when she left Newton Haven behind.

[shasta627]

Just A Dream

I really have no reason for writing this except that I love torturing my faves and making readers suffer haha! Actually though, this fic was inspired by the song “Just a Dream” by Carrie Underwood, so you can blame her for this too xD

It was two weeks before the wedding when it happened.

It was supposed to be nothing serious—it was just a few angry people, upset about issues beyond Avalor’s control—yet the outcome couldn’t have been more grave.

“Be careful,” Isabel said, her voice anxious. She wished he didn’t have to leave.

“I will,” Gabe promised, kissing her lips lightly. “I’ll see you in a bit.” He then disappeared into the night with the rest of his troops, hardly sparing a backward glance.

Isabel waited until almost midnight until she decided to retire to her bedchamber. She knew Gabe would come up to see her once he came back, but she wished it would be soon. The rioters had grown more and more violent as the days went on, and she couldn’t help but worry for her fiance's safety, even if he was the Captain of the Guard...

The sun was shining down on everyone as they stood silently in the cemetery, huddled together with their eyes transfixed on the earth as it was loaded up shovel after shovel. The evening was too bright, too beautiful to be holding such a mournful occasion, but it had to be done.

Dead silence settled over the small crowd as the workers finally set aside their shovels, wiping their brows as they gazed at the mound of dirt they’d just finished packing down. After smoothing out the top of the dirt again they finally stepped away, allowing everyone to properly mourn without two grave-diggers obscuring their vision.

Isabel tucked herself into bed, trying to imagine the blankets as Gabe’s arms instead, wrapped securely around her and protecting her, but not even her imagination could conjure such a conception.

She had almost dozed off when she heard a soft knock on her door.  

Immediately awake again, a smile crossed Isabel’s lips as she tiptoed across the floor to answer it, relief settling over her petite frame.

Yet her smile faded as soon as she opened the door and found Elena instead.

“Hey,” she greeted her sister, and then noticed Elena’s unusually ashen skin and bloodshot eyes. “What’s wrong?” she immediately asked, her heart beginning to beat furiously against her ribcage. “Is it abuelo? Your kids?”

“No, Isa, it’s…” Elena gulped, and Isabel suddenly couldn't remember how to breathe. “It’s Gabe...”

People began to slowly approach the grave, one at a time, as though caught in a trance.

Isabel felt as though she were watching it all from a distance, just standing in the background. But she was reminded all too well of the reality of her situation as she watched people place flowers wreaths on his tombstone while giving her looks of pity, their whispers floating through the air to meet her ears.

“Poor man, so young, with such a bright future ahead…”

“He’s never coming home now…”

“Just before their wedding, too…”

Isabel stood rigid to the spot, her head bowed as she stared at her engagement ring glistening in the evening sun, almost as though mocking her and what could’ve been.

Isabel didn’t wait for any more explanation. She raced outside the room and ran back to the entrance, running faster than she’d ever run before. Her heart was in her throat as she tried not to assume the worse. Was he missing? Was he hurt? She didn’t even know where she was running, she knew she just had to find Gabe. If she could just see him, everything would be alright...   

But as she skidded into the main entrance hall, she saw a group of guards carrying a comatose body into the palace and set it on ground, their expressions identical masks of horror and disbelief. Mateo was with them too, his face in his hands as his composure began to crumble before her eyes.

No, no, no! was all Isabel could think as she raced over to the body, her feet practically giving out beneath her on the last step.

Mateo noticed her immediately. “Isa,” he said, his voice thick with emotion as he rushed over to her. “I tried all I could do, but I was just too late…” She could clearly note the guilt heavily lacing his words as he gripped her shoulder helplessly.

But nothing could console her now.

For lying before her on the cold, palace stone, was none other than Gabe Nuñez, her fiance, the love of her life, with a large spear shaped hole just above his heart...   

It had taken one hour before everyone finally left. So many people had tried to approach her and offer comfort, her family especially, but Isabel preferred space, and was grateful that she was finally alone.

She stood on top of the freshly dug dirt, shivering despite the warm air, and stared at the the words carved into his headstone. It said he was a good captain, a loving son, and a hero to Avalor, but he wasn’t a husband or father. He’d never gotten the chance.   

Why’d you leave me? Why’d you have to go? Isabel silently thought in desperation, squeezing her eyes shut and wrapping her arms tightly around herself. She fell to her knees as Gabe’s lifeless face kept flashing through her mind. I was counting on forever...now I’ll never know. The tears slid from her cheeks onto the soft ground, her vision so blurred she could no longer make out Gabe’s name engraved into the dark stone before her.

How was she supposed to move on, knowing she would never see his endearing smile again, or hear his cheerful laughter ringing through the palace halls, or feel his soft, gentle lips gently caress her own…? They had their whole future ahead of them, and in the blink of an eye suddenly her whole world had shattered.  

A deep pain began blossoming inside Isabel’s chest and she dug her hands into the ground, trying to anchor herself to the earth and keep from collapsing entirely.

“Please,” Isabel gasped aloud, her body convulsing with tormented sobs. She could hardly breathe anymore. “Please, this can’t be happening to me, it’s just a dream...oh Gabe, please let this be just a dream...”  

Her anguished pleas echoed throughout the large graveyard, and were met with a cold, lonely silence.   

[wordsturnintostories]

12/ Remnants of Time

Glue | Chapter 11 | ... | Epilogue

Masterlist

Word Count: 4,135 Song Choice: R.E.F. Warrior’s Lullabye by Zack Hemsey; Redemption by Zack Hemsey  Special a/n: the last chapter of Remnants of Time! but there still in an epilogue. also, don’t underestimate the last chapter. haha, you have no idea what’s about to happen. hehe. (I hope it all makes sense.) please leave feedback!

Natasha came. She came with a look on her face that didn’t say anything, but when she was done taking care of Sam, who just groaned and whined a lot, she walked over to Steve. The blond wasn’t sure what he was expecting, but her face didn’t spoil any information regarding her thoughts or her emotions. Another weight weighed heavy on Steve’s shoulders - having left a teammate back, even if his reasons were justified. It shouldn’t have happened. After his fight with Tony, Steve had sworn to himself to never leave a teammate behind again. And yet, one assumption had arisen, suggesting Natasha might be working for Hydra or someone bad and Steve had fallen for the trick. He was ashamed.

And this unintelligibility radiating off Natasha just made it worse - Steve felt she punished him by pulling away every feature he normally used to read her. Her body language - silent. Her eyes - silent. Her hands - silent. She didn’t say anything and Steve had never been so irritated by the Russian before. For moments, he considered confronting her, but then he remembered how she had reacted the last time he’d done that. He frustratedly sucked in a breath of air. The redhead didn’t react to it. Steve didn’t have any words anyway. So he agreed to her silence. When Natasha didn’t get the cuffs off his hands, Steve nodded, grateful for a topic that could start a conversation. “They won’t go off. I’ve tried. Just go and get Zola and Lomawu. They-” Natasha shook her head. “I’m not leaving you back, Steve. We can only get this done together. And that is the whole truth.” With those words, she left the blond. Speechless, Steve sat on the cold ground of that basement. Natasha had promised she wouldn’t leave him. Like he had promised to not leave her. And done it anyway. Steve shuddered. She must’ve felt shaken, to be betrayed by him like that. But even if she hated him, Steve hated himself more for what he’d done. If she really would come back, how could he ever apologize for breaking their trust - and quite possibly their friendship?

Only a few minutes later, the Russian returned, with a glass full of a swishing liquid in her hands. “Why wasting our energy”, she finally smiled at him, “when there is a huge museum with tons of chemical substances right above us?” With exemplary care and petite fingers, Natasha poured some liquid - probably acid - onto the chains and set a chemical reaction in motion that freed Steve’s hands from those unnerving cuffs holding him captive. When the blond’s bare skin came into vision, it looked scarred and bloody. “Don’t worry”, Steve waved it off, “I’ll be fine. We should really get going, though. What do we do with him?” “I’ve got that covered”, Natasha promised. “Rogers. There’s one thing. Whatever I do, I need you to trust me to do the right thing.” Steve’s heart did a little jump. Natasha offered him a second chance. Just like that. Without hesitating. Without listening to any of his apologies or whatever. She knows what it’s like to make the hard call. Steve cleared his throat. Natasha was on his side and he wouldn’t mess it all up this time. “You were the only thing that Zola and Lomawu couldn’t anticipate in their plan. You’re our ace. I got your back.” With that, the two of them ran.

Natasha texted Clint mid-way. Steve and she had lost the way, whatever the way really was. Basically, the Russian was running and Steve just trying to follow and spot any possible ambushes or even enemy forces, but so far everything looked clear. He couldn’t afford to care about pedestrians right now. At least he was still in normal clothes. Those didn’t draw as much attention as Natasha’s dark suit. Clint wrote: The Remnant is here. Hurry up or you’ll - Wanda! - just hurry! The hospital is close. Run north now. His face hurt like hell, from that hit he’d taken from Bucky’s metal hand, but he didn’t tell Natasha that. Or about his neck, or his ear. She worried about enough things right now. He mustered her face that lit up when that hospital Clint was texting about came into sight, still way ahead of them. He wondered if she thought about Bucky. The image of the two Soviet spies snuggled up next to each other in that bed in Cologne reappeared in his mind. Maybe they were a couple and no one knew. More thoughts found their way through the supersoldier’s mind and he let them. Hopefully, his friends could have a life after this, he tried to imagine it. Bucky and Natasha. She let the brunet so close so fast. Steve smiled. Then, he noticed the eight level of the empty, abandoned hospital the looked like it was from the 50s. A window clinked loudly and then crashed. Someone’s head looked out of the hole, then an arrow flew past it. Steve’s forehead was in wrinkles. “What is it, Steve? What plan are you cooking up right now?” “How does Clint text while he’s fighting? I just can’t… picture it.” Natasha just stared at the blonde, as if he was the most bizarre person on the planet. Maybe he was. He shrugged. “He uses the speech-to-text function, Steve.” “Ha! So that’s how you text me while driving.” Natasha grimaced. “You’re too precious for this world, golden boy. Make sure to stay alive in the battle ahead!” In shock, Steve noticed the helicopter on the roof of the hospital. The rotators began to move right then and two persons were entering it. A woman and a man, from what Steve could tell. Zola and Lomawu. “Nat! Can you hit them?” She checked her handguns and shook her head. Their ranges were too short. “Didn’t bring my rifle. Sorry, Rogers.” Steve kicked a stone in disappointment. They were too late. But the fight seemed to continue on the inside. A scream reached Steve’s ears and he sped up.

The two of them sprinted up the staircases, perfectly warmed up when lunging into the fight. One thing Steve noticed immediately was how narrow the old hospital’s hallways were. He spotted dents and arrow shafts stuck in walls and scattered over the floor. A strong draft greeted them, proving what a wreck this building really was. Right now, Scott and what looked like an invasion of ants were attacked by the Remnant. Clint, however, tried to protect himself from the Winter Soldier. Wanda was the down, on the floor. She’d been hit. Steve ran towards the other end of the hallway, where the young girl tried to get back up. She struggled. Suddenly, a wall shattered, blocking his way. A person appeared in-between the debris. A growling person. With a knife. And a mask. And a blood covered face. The Remnant. Steve looked at her, quickly taking a defensive stance. Now he yearned for his suit.

The brunette woman was about to pounce on him when someone lunged at her from behind. Scott. More than brave, he pulled her hair. She hissed loudly and a shiver ran down Steve’s spine. She turned to Scott, kicking his legs away. He landed on his back and she jumped onto him. He was fast. He almost managed to tap his suit to make him shrink. But boy, she was much faster. In one move, she had both Scott’s arms pinned to the linoleum floor. Then, she did something Steve didn’t expect at all. A strange, low whistle rose over the fighting noise. It took a second to be returned. Natasha yelled something in the background. Steve didn’t pay attention. His eyes shot back and forth between Scott and Wanda. If he made a run for her- someone shoved him from behind. Barton fell right into him, stumbling. His cheek was bleeding. His bow was broken. The Winter Soldier charged at the two men and Steve grabbed stones from the broken wall. The Asset dodged and smashed every single one. “Bucky! Just-”, Steve screamed, but his friend didn’t listen at all. When Steve touched him, a knife slashed over his arm and a gun appeared. Steve kicked the handgun out of the Winter Soldier’s grasp. When he looked back up, Bucky was already on his way to re-engage with Barton. Screams came from the room next to Steve. The Remnant, Rebecca, had broken Scott’s forearm. A bone was unglamorously sticking out of it. His shrinking device was completely crushed. A knife gleamed in the Remnant’s hand. Blood ran over her fingers. Three deep cuts opened up Lang’s thigh. His flesh was torn to shredded. At that sight, Steve’s blood turned boiling hot. He scrambled to his feet, ran into the room and opened the door to smash the Remnant off Scott. She jumped back to her feet instantly. But Steve just pushed the next best thing, a hospital bed, and slammed it forwards. Then, he pulled the Remnant into his strong grasp. Something pinched his leg. Darts. The poisoned ones. He didn’t care. He just ran, anger had taken control. Steve crashed his victim against the next wall. Her suit collided with the stone roughly. Her mask fell, but Steve had to watch with shock how her arm turned metal from once second to another. How did she do that!? In battle’s defiance, he kicked her arm, making it slam against the worn out wall. The stones broke with a nasty crunch and she fell through it. Only then Steve realized it was the outside wall. Only then Steve realized it was the outside wall. Shit. He’d just thrown Bucky’s sister off the eighth story. When he put his head outside the hole, there was no body on the pavement. No blood. Nothing. Steve couldn’t see anyone. Where had she gone in that one second? 

Inside, someone gagged. Steve ran back. The Winter Soldier closed his hands around Wanda’s throat. But he stood so far away. Between Steve and him was half the hallway and a rapidly increasing pool of blood around Scott. If Steve just had his shield! Next, Steve’s hands grabbed whatever was around him and made a metal table whiz through the air, thumping right against Bucky’s chest. The brainwashed soldier opened his hands enough to have Wanda slip away. Clint tried his best but didn’t succeed at kicking the Winter Soldier. They fought a quick and intense hand-to-hand combat, which resulted in nasty oomphs and cries. When Steve looked up from Scott the next time, Barton wriggled on the floor, in between Bucky’s legs. His jaw already looked blue and the rest of his face was smudged with blood.  Steve’s attention was dragged away by a stinging in his leg. Another dart. And a third. Even a fourth before the blond realized where they came from. From above. From the hole in the ceiling. He could not jump away when a heavy-looking device crashed down. Steve kneeled over Scott’s unconscious body, caving in when the massive device plummeted onto his back. He couldn’t help but scream at the piercing pain. That definitely leave a huge mark on his back. The Remnant jumped through the hole in the ceiling, landing softly on her feet. Steve’s desperation grew. He wanted to run and help Clint. But if he left Lang, Rebecca would kill the unconscious Ant-man. He couldn’t do that. From the corner of his eye, Steve noticed Natasha coming in. Relief flooded his system. Natasha moved through the hallway, dodging debris like a dancer. A blade gleamed in her hand. The Remnant attacked Steve, using the distraction as advantage, and he huffed at the quick succession of punches being thrown at him. She knew his weak spots, he thought, she knew his every move. So he tried something else. Instead of punching her, he turned around, spotting exactly what he needed. A supply cabinet. Whatever was in there might save their lives. So he opened it, shuffled through the boxes. No medication but masks. Attached to cartridges spelling N2O. Laughing gas. Perfect. When the Remnant rushed at him, Steve quickly grabbed her arm, pulling her down. With his leg digging into her back and holding her in place, he had one chance to pull this mask over her face. And it worked. Steve held her arms together, he squished Rebecca as the laughing gas filled her lungs. She squirmed under his grasp, but relaxed after a few seconds. Steve didn’t let go. He knew he couldn’t underestimate her. She was dangerous. Suddenly, a knife was plunged into his side. How…? He stumbled in pain and the Remnant stood up. She grabbed this stick Steve had seen before, on her back. It whirled around in her hands. Steve was breathing heavily. Every hope he’d built up until now faded like it had been an illusion all along. The blond looked up. He wondered if his senses failed him or if his pain was just layering over them. He hadn’t even heard Natasha approaching. The Remnant fought with her now, the brunette’s stick creating a crescendo of cracks and slaps whenever she hit Natasha. The laughing gas didn’t seem to affect her at all. Steve got to his feet. His Ma’s words rushed through his mind. He could still see her in the white hospital bed. Most of the time, he pushed this memory away, but now it pressed into his mind with an unusual urgency. Her voice had been muffled through the breathing device on her face and her hands were covered in some kind of gloves. Steve still knew the rubbery feeling on his cheek when she’d caressed his face, when she had wiped his tears away. You will get through this. You’re stronger than this world, Steven. You’re an overcomer. And then she fell into an endless pit of silence. And Steve had become what his Ma had always seen in him. Grief crossed his heart once more. But it birthed a decision, one he had made a hundred times before. I’ll overcome this. Giving up isn’t in my options.

So Steve stemmed himself up, pulling the Remnant off a wide-eyed Natasha. Blood was smeared over the brunette’s face, probably from her nose. Her lips were cracked, too. Nat had collected a batch of scratch marks on her décolleté and throat. The Widow nodded at him and ran off. “Hold her there!”, she yelled at Steve but didn’t say anything else. But Steve couldn’t. The woman lunged at him and used a medical table to attack him out of the air. Right before she reached him, however, a red mist swirled around her figure. She hovered in the air. Steve triumphed on the inside. Thank you, Wanda! What happened in the next moments was too fast for Steve to understand right away. An arrow shot at the Remnant. She caught it before it could tear through her chest. Her arm turned silver. It deflected another arrow. Steve’s head whipped around in shock. Clint stood in the doorway, his broken bow fixed with medical tape. A third arrow was already in position. It made a chucking sound when it landed in Rebecca’s abdomen. Steve cursed. “Clint, stop! You’re killing her!” “Got my orders, Cap. T’Challa wants her dead.” “He- what!? Does he know she’s Bucky’s sister?” Clint lowered his bow, but the red mist still held the brainwashed assassin captive. “Are you kidding me!? How many more of your kind are there? Shit, I need a list”, Barton turned around to make eye contact with Wanda, “can you fix her mind?” Wanda hesitated, her fingers still spinning her scarlet veil. “I don’t kn- no. Not here at least, I - Oh, oh my god.” Her eyes had become huge and she covered her mouth in pure shock. Steve followed her gaze. 

On the other side of the room stood Natasha. She held a knife to Bucky’s throat.

Steve’s heart pounded heavy, pushed fear through his veins and cold sweat onto his skin. Could he believe what he saw? He didn’t want to, but when the first drops of blood rolled over his best friend’s skin, he wasn’t sure he had a choice. Bucky’s hair was in Natasha’s fist, she pulled his head up to expose his throat. To cut through it. Blood dripped over the silver blade. Steve recognized it as one of Bucky’s. But Steve was frozen in his spot. What was he supposed to do? What was Natasha doing? Would words be strong enough to pull Natasha out of whatever had stolen her sanity? Would she really kill him? She used to call him Yasha, with the sweet undertone of a deep-rooted love. Steve hesitated. Was it another lie? A trick? Clint shot a worried look at Steve. Wanda still held the Remnant back, but she was distracted too. Scott just continued to bleed out onto the floor, ants gathering around his unconscious self. I need you to trust me to do what is right. This was as far from right as it could get. Steve wanted to cry. His body wanted to punch something. His heart felt like Natasha had pierced it with a stick. To roast it over a scorching fire. Clint grabbed Steve’s arm. Do something, his eyes seemed to urge the super soldier. Thousands of words rung through Steve’s mind, but he didn’t know which ones to choose. He felt like every word was wrong. The Remnant growled from behind him. “What are you doing, Natasha!?” Steve’s voice cracked. “I’m putting an end to the fight. We need to destroy Hydra. And we know their weak spot. If they realize he’s dead...” But what if their weak spot is also mine? Steve mustered Bucky. His arms were lifeless, they were fixated behind his back somehow. His blue eyes were clear but pointed at the floor. Something with a handle was stuck in his side. Probably a knife. Suddenly, Steve noticed how Natasha’s necklace was missing, the one with the arrow. The one she never took off. Something wasn’t right. “This isn’t the right cho-” “Sometimes, you gotta make a right choice, not the right one. You said that. This is my right choice, Rogers.” Natasha sent him a challenging, but cold look. Steve sucked in a deep breath. Yes. He’d said that. He regretted it now. But choices never applied to Bucky. With him, there was no choice. Steve still refused to believe Natasha was serious. “You can’t-” She dragged the knife further along his throat. Bucky winced. More blood. To prove her point? To kill him? “Nat, I beg you-” “You taught me about sacrifice, Steve. It hurts. But it needs to be done. I’m the Black Widow”, she said mechanically and repeated something like a mantra, “Remember. Execute. Forget.” It was another of these moments Steve realized he wasn’t trying to save two people from brainwashing and conditioning, but three. Then, Natasha cut into the flesh. Bucky gasped. 

In a fraction of a second, a knife shot into the spy’s shoulder. The Remnant sprang into action, ripping herself out of the control of a distracted Wanda. Natasha hit Bucky’s head full-force with her handgun and he collapsed to the ground. A dart dug into Natasha’s arm but stuck in her suit. Wanda ran over to Bucky and placed her hands on his cheeks. Red mist appeared around him. “Steve!”, Wanda yelled. “Grab her by the neck!” Natasha fought with the Remnant, trying to keep up with the brunette’s speed. The Remnant seemed furious, she kicked the Russian into her face and stabbed her a couple of times. Her metal arm crushed Natasha’s gun. The Russian seemed a little dizzy, too. Her right arm seemed limp. “Steve, now!”, Wanda yelled again. Steve moved and tried to grab the Remnant’s throat. “By the neck! Hold her up!” “Her neck will break!” “Just do it!” So he did. He grabbed Rebecca’s neck, channeled all his leftover power into a firm grip and lifted her off the ground. To his surprise, she went completely still from one moment to the next. Everything dropped from her hands. The blades clanked against the floor, the sound echoing through the room in this sudden silence. The Remnant just hung there, almost like someone had pulled the plug. Her eyes went around the room, scanning it. But she remained completely still. Steve was stunned. If he had known it was this easy to stop her... “How did you know, Wanda?” She smiled. “He did”, she pointed at Bucky, who was still out of it. Bucky’s memories had saved them.

“Finally”, Natasha breathed. “Thank God that stupid plan worked. Barton, help me find a supply cabinet.” The two of them rushed through the rooms and hallways. Steve was relieved when they could somehow stop the heavy blood flow that originated in Scott’s leg. The boiling rage at Natasha’s stunt with his best friend was still there, but he swallowed it. Now was not the time. Natasha approached him with bad news. “Scott lost a lot of blood. But I know we have reserves in the Quinjet you left Wakanda with.” That was terrible. Steve took a deep breath. “I parked it in France, Nat.” “I know. It should be here in a minute. I already alerted medical assistance. There will be a doctor on board.” Steve was very grateful when Wanda relieved his arm by taking the Remnant for him. Now, he built himself up before Natasha, the woman he once thought he could trust. He grabbed her elbow when she made a step back. She winced. Steve noted that her arm was broken, so he gently let go. But she would have to talk. Too many secrets stood between them. “What game are you playing here? What do you really want?” “Vacation. I guess that’ll have to wait, though. To save all your asses, ‘til then?” A police siren broke the deafening silence. Steve still didn’t know which words to use with the spy before him. The low rumbling of a Quinjet sent relief though every person in the room. “We should go”, Natasha said. “Where to? We can’t go back to Wakanda. We need to hide.” Natasha smiled kindly and pulled something out of her pocket. A key? “The director of SHIELD gave me this. We have full access to a hidden base in the Swiss Alps.” As expected, Steve wasn’t satisfied with that. “SHIELD, huh. And what flathead was bold enough to dig them out of that pile of rubble?” “Steve, I can’t tell-” “You can and you will. You owe us a lot, Natasha, and this is the least you can do.” After almost cutting Bucky’s throat. Natasha nodded, her forehead wrinkled as if she was thinking hard which words to choose. “The director won’t appreciate it. His identity is more than highly confidential intel. His business with us is personal too, that’s why he insisted on contacting you himself.” “Who is it? Nat”, Steve’s voice sounded like a warning. “Coulson.” “Bullshit. He died on that helicarrier…” Natasha smiled, a smile that Steve had seen a couple of times before, in dark hallways and on airy rooftops. The smile that announced another trick by the Black Widow, one where she lured people into her net, making them see and believe something that was an illusion. It marked them as her victims. “Everyone dies at one point, Steve. Some just know how to turn it into a game.” The Captain stared at her, signaling the redhead to go on. “Sometimes, dying ensures survival. I’m a spy. Never wondered how I’m standing in front of you, alive, unharmed? In the Red Room, we practiced dying every day.” “You practiced lying.” ��Death is just like me. One truth out of many. Whoever believes it is a fool.” With that, she turned around, announcing their way out of this place. 

It happened on the stairs. In just a couple of moments, fate, or more likely fatigue, decided to turn everything around. Wanda stumbled over some debris on the stairs and fell. At the same time, she let go of Rebecca, who had stayed completely focused the entire time, waiting for a split second of weakness like this one. The Remnant jumped, probably the one with the most power in her legs out of everyone, and disappeared in the ceiling. Steve groaned. He could’ve screamed at everyone and everything. She was gone. They’d lost her. Sam had been right. Their whole mission was a disaster. The police sirens sounded really close now. “Come on, guys, get going!”, Natasha encouraged, leading them all to the Quinjet on the roof. She knew they couldn’t waste any time here. The world was in the mood to welcome Steve Rogers and his friends back yet.

The police cars made their way through Munich’s terrible traffic and reached one of the city’s old abandoned buildings. The old hospital was the place civilians had reported. Gun shots. Arrows. Red mist. A whole police squad entered the building, overly cautious and handguns raised. They were ready to shoot, to put their years of training into use. All they found, however, was a halfway collapsed eighth story and puddles of blood on the floor of an old, abandoned and decayed hospital.

Masterlist

Please leave feedback. My ask box is also open for your words/screams/tears/emotions.

Permanent Tags: @nataliarxmanxva, @aubzylynn, @inappropriatepirate, @buckysmusculararm, @coffeeismylife28, @mitra-k-w, @captainmomofoshosho, @sarahwroteathing, @engineeringgirlcve, @borderline-person, @tequilavet, @aquabrie, @221bshrlocked

RoT: @hollycornish, @learisa, @kanupps06, @dirajunara, @hchism, @ninjayjumper, @sumafamouxx, @lroa46, @garibaypau, @-supernatural-coffee-llama, @readingtoescape, @imhereforbvcky